> Lunar Rebellion: The Golden Path > by Chengar Qordath > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > The Golden Path 1 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- I could scarcely believe mine own ears when Her Majesty informed me of her intentions. “And how long will you be absent from Canterlot?” Celestia frowned and let out a soft sigh. “I cannot say for certain. If it is naught but an ordinary nest of Blightspawn the matter should be resolved quickly enough. If it is a sign of a larger problem...” She shrugged. “It will take as long as it takes.” I frowned at her. “And why must you attend to this matter? The supreme ruler of Equestria is needed in the capitol ruling over all of ponykind, not traipsing about as a monster hunter in foreign lands.” Celestia answered me with an unamused glower. “Because my treaty with Argentium is several hundred years older than thee, Sunbeam. If she calls upon mine aid, I shall not leave her wanting.” She held up a hoof to forestall my inevitable objection. “If I left the matter to magi and soldiers many of them might perish. A Blightspawn nest is dangerous to those inexperienced in facing them. Not to mention I owe her a boon for her part in forging Shadow’s Armor.” She grimaced. “And though ‘tis unlikely, if this nest is a sign that Blackfyre is violating his terms of surrender, she will need mine aid at once.” Shadow cleared her throat and spoke in her customarily deferential tone. “We understand there is a debt of honor that must be repaid, Commander. Nonetheless, your absence from Canterlot will cause concern. The civil war is a recent enough memory that many will be unsettled by the sight of an empty throne.” “Of course,” Celestia favored us both with a smile. “But that is why I have called upon the two of thee. I am blessed to have thine aid and can think of none more capable hooves to guide Equestria in mine absence.” Shadow and I exchanged a look, and I broached the question that weighed heavy in both our minds. “It will of course be our pleasure to serve you, Your Majesty. However, I must ask exactly how you wish us to do so. An extended absence with an uncertain date of return could lead to no shortage of problems. Petitioners are annoyed enough to learn that their concerns will not be heard when ‘tis only a week’s delay. A wait that could last months and with no certainty as to when their concerns would e’en be addressed...” “I agree,” Celestia answered. “And in light of that, I must ask thee to do more than merely watch o’er Equestria until my return. I must appoint a regent.” A regency. Such a thing had not happened since before the beginning of Celestia’s reign, when Unicornia’s monarchs were still mortal. Entrusting the full power and authority of the throne to another was not lightly done, and one of the advantages of an undying monarch was that we no longer needed regents to o’ersee the throne when the monarch was either too young or too old to rule properly. But now there would be a regent once more. A pony other than Celestia herself would wield the full authority of the Equestrian throne. ‘Twas a heady prospect to consider. Shadow cleared her throat. “Will we be joint regents, then?” “Neigh.” Celestia sighed. “A regency will be an uncertain enough time as it stands, but ‘twould be worse to muddy the waters by appointing two regents. Any who mislike the ruling of one would immediately petition the other for redress, and should thine opinions conflict...” She need say nothing more. She valued myself and Shadow as advisors in no small part because our opinions contrasted one another so sharply. Though neither of us would seek to openly undermine our co-regent, it was entirely possible a matter would arise where we passionately disagreed and could find no middle ground. Should such circumstances arise, ‘twould be far better for Equestria if one of us had final say in the matter. Though ‘twould irk me to be o’erruled by Shadow, the mare heeded my advice often enough and when she went against it that rarely lead to disaster. And there was no doubt in my mind that Shadow would be her choice. Celestia respected my skill as a politician and heeded my advice, but she did not love me as she loved Shadow. Not to mention mine own naked ambition; if she named me regent before departing half the realm would suspect me of murdering her, disposing of the corpse, and forging the documents. Small-minded fools always fail to grasp the truth of their betters. No doubt it pleased them to imagine me as such a vain and petty creature, so disloyal to Her Majesty that I spent mine every waking moment searching for an opportunity to plant a dagger in her back. In a way, ‘twas no different than the pornographer who had recently been sentenced to a week in the stocks as punishment for his lewd tales and images involving much of the court. Whether ‘twas the intrigues of court or more carnal matters, it pleased the peasantry to imagine their rulers as base creatures no different from them. They could not accept that there is a natural order to the world where superior ponies inevitably rose to the top of society, and so they comforted themselves with foolish fantasies that their betters were foul and corrupt. Celestia was objectively their superior in every measurable way, so they reduced her to a wanton slattern no better than a common harlot. Foolishness. Instead they should seek to better themselves, as I had. The nobility were foolish to think that breeding was the sole determiner of quality, elsewise the daughter of a mere glassblower could never have risen above all of them. Neigh, I had forged mine own destiny in fire and blood, achieving greatness through naught but raw determination. Those who held low stations in life did so by choice, whether they confessed as much to themselves or not. They called ambition a sin to excuse their own crippling lack of it, and pretended that their small, meaningless lives were somehow better or purer than the lives of those who actually accomplished great things and made Equestria a better place. Sadly, no matter how foolish their perspective, there were many of them. Even ignorant fools could have a profound effect in sufficient numbers. And really, loathe as I was to admit it, Shadow was likely the better choice. She could rule as ably as I, and with far less controversy. Thus, I was quite surprised when Her Majesty turned to me. “Sunbeam Sparkle, I hereby name thee as regent o’er all of Equestria, from now until my return.” Thankfully, a lifetime of service to Her Majesty and within the royal court has trained me to carefully hide my true thoughts. I smiled gratefully and bowed, the very picture of courtly grace. “It would be my honor to be of service, Your Majesty.” Celestia answered me with a dry smile. “You might think otherwise after spending a full day on the throne. And yes, you are expected to sit in it. ‘Tis a useful symbol to show that thou art wielding my full royal authority, rather than acting as a mere caretaker until my return.” “Your full authority?” I pressed. “Aye.” She chuckled. “Or near enough. Obviously I intend to return as soon as possible, and I should be most upset if you decided to redecorate my royal quarters and abscond with my private possessions.” She spoke the words lightly and only touched on frivolous matters, but I had no trouble seeing the deeper implication behind them: though I might wield the power of Queen in her absence, she would hold me to account for mine actions upon her return. Not that I had any plans to abuse her power in petty or self-serving ways, but she seemingly felt the need to warn me off from doing so regardless. How irksome. Shadow cleared her throat. “I presume I shall continue to exercise my role as Lady Protector of Equestria in your absence, Commander?” “But of course,” Celestia answered with one of those fond smiles she only ever spared for Shadow. “I would also ask that you do everything you can to help Sunbeam. Just as I have relied upon thine advice, I know she will as well.” More fine words that hid another barb and limitation within them. E’en if I held the regency and Shadow did not, that was merely a matter of which of us could o’errule the other should that become necessary. Until we reached that point, I was expected to work alongside her. Not that I had any intention of cavalierly ignoring the mare’s advice to begin with. Only a fool ignores good counsel, and e’en when Shadow disagreed with me her words were still worth hearing. At worst it forewarned me of what objections I would hear from others, and on a few occasions she had e’en given me cause to reconsider mine own opinions. The last thing I wanted to do was seem unwilling to comply with a largely reasonable request. “Of course, I would hardly want to ignore the advice of a dear friend like Shadow.” I idly let one hoof companionably fall upon Shadow’s shoulder. As always, the contact sent an odd sort of thrill through me. I think perhaps ‘twas the muscles I could feel beneath her skin, and I was intimately familiar with exactly how well she used them both on the battlefield and in other pursuits. The last time I had bedded her it had left me sore for two days afterwards, but I did not regret it for a moment. If Celestia knew what precisely I was thinking of Shadow, she gave no sign of it. “I am sure thou wilt come to depend on her as much as I have, though I do hope we have no need of a Lady Protector in mine absence.” “Aye.” Shadow, evidently more aware of my mind, brushed my hoof away. “I am glad to be of aid, Commander. Though we all hope for our long-o’erdue peace to continue in your absence, should Equestria need a protector I shall not be found wanting.” My eyes flickered down to her armor. The craftsmareship truly was exquisite, and I was not saying that simply because I was one of the ones that had made it. After all, Her Majesty was leaving to repay Argentium for her own role in the armor’s creation. Though I am quite proud of mine own contributions, I was under no illusions as to who played the greater part. E’en the greatest mortal magus cannot measure up to immortals with centuries of experience and the raw strength that comes with eternal life. During the Rebellion the enchantments upon the armor had allowed Shadow to face the Avatar of Nightmare Moon in open battle on essentially equal terms. I suspected Celestia had allowed her to keep it after the war as some sort of insurance against her going mad as Nightmare Moon had. A noble but foolish sentiment; if I wore the crown, the armor would have gone straight into the royal treasury. Items of such power should not be used lightly. Of course, trying to strip Shadow of her armor would doubtless be seen as a gross overreach of mine authority. And Celestia’s maudlin reasoning aside, I saw no reason not to allow Shadow to retain it. Afterwards ... unless Shadow died in battle I would likely be well into my dotage or dead myself ere she passed. The Armor’s fate would be for Celestia to decide. There was no sense in worrying about decisions to be made decades hence in the face of more immediate concerns. “Is there anything I should be aware of regarding my duties? I do recall several upcoming items on the royal agenda...” Celestia nodded. “Of course. Most of it will be the standard business of court: hearing petitioners and o’erseeing royal justice. Also, I am sure you recall the new hospital the Order of Sol Invictus will be opening this week. Thy generous donations went far to aid its construction. I had hoped to attend the opening ceremonies myself, but since I will not be available my regent shall suffice.” Ah. Of course, one of those foolish public appearances. Her Majesty placed far too much value on such public pageantry and made herself too available. A monarch’s presence, like many other resources, becomes far less valuable if it is too commonplace. Not to mention such appearances inevitably distracted her from more productive uses for her time. However, there was no point in reviving that old debate once more. At least, not today. “I recall we were due to receive an ambassador as well.” Celestia grimaced, which almost certainly did not bode well. “We are. Ambassador Silver Tithe has asked me to grant him an audience on behalf of his gods, though he did not say what he wished to discuss.” I sighed and rolled my eyes. “The Golden Path again? Doubtless someone offended their so-called gods.” Celestia shot me a faintly disapproving frown. “When meeting with an ambassador, ‘tis important to show respect to their culture and beliefs no matter how strongly one might disagree with them in private.” I held my tongue. She was right, of course. I was not foolish enough to tell the Golden Path that the so-called gods they worshipped were just a bunch of low-level spiritual beings with delusions of grandeur enabled by a band of useful idiots. However, if I spent too long thinking it during the audience I might say or do something to reveal mine utter contempt. Open disdain is not the best tone to set for a diplomatic meeting. Shadow sighed and shook her head. “I am curious to hear what he might wish, though I doubt ‘twill be a worthwhile conversation. Silver Tithe always reminds me of one of my sire’s old sayings: ‘The larger the smile, the sharper the knife behind it.’” “We should not assume the meeting will end badly ere it e’en begins,” Celestia chided both of us, even though she had to know we were right. Her next comment gave as much away. “If the both of thee expect it to end badly, it surely will. With an open mind there is always a chance, howe’er slim it might seem. The meeting will be tense enough as it is. Ambassador Tithe wanted to meet with me and me alone.” “I see.” Curious, but not unheard of. ‘Twas no secret that anything said at court in the morning would be the talk of the town come suppertime. “Well, if I am regent he shall have to content himself with meeting me.” Celestia nodded along. “I will seal a letter to him explaining that thou hast my full confidence and mine apologies for being unable to attend to him myself. That should hopefully smooth over any ruffled feathers. We do not wish for him to feel snubbed, after all. Thou also hast my full authority to bargain in my name and make reasonable agreements and declarations.” “‘Reasonable agreements’?” I queried. “Aye.” She shot me an impish grin. “If I will o’erturn it the moment I return from Northmarch, consider that to be unreasonable.” “Then I should rule as you would?” “I would not ask you to predict my thoughts,” Celestia answered, her smile firmly in place. “Rule as you would rule, but remember that you rule in my name.” I scowled at her, suspecting she was enjoying herself at my expense. “That is not so easy a task as you make it sound.” The merry twinkle in her eyes confirmed my suspicions. “If the task is not an easy one, then I should count myself fortunate that I have such a singularly talented regent to carry it out.” Damn. The mare had trapped me within a cage of flattery. Part of me wondered if this might be some devious plan of Celestia’s to temper my ambitions. Give me charge of Equestria under the most hellish conditions possible so that I would learn how unpleasant leadership truly was and content myself with the current status quo. For all her seeming benevolence, she had a devious mind and a frightening knack for outmaneuvering her opponents. I had a sinking feeling she had performed another such maneuver, and I was only just beginning to suffer from it. Well, if that was her intention I was not about to give her the satisfaction of knowing it was working. I cleared my throat and returned to business. “And what should I tell Equestria regarding your absence? The truth, or...?” Celestia shrugged. “I see no reason to hide the truth. Knowledge that their queen is off aiding an ally and striking down creatures of nightmare should not cause any panic, and might subtly remind a few troublemakers that my benevolence is not weakness. Any lie would risk being found out, and I see little to be gained from it.” “As you say,” I agreed. “Honesty is simple enough.” A few might complain about her venturing off to slay monsters in another land when Equestria had troubles of its own, but most of them would be naught but short-sighted fools. Anyone with a measure of vision would grasp the importance of honoring alliances and ending threats before they e’er reached Equestria. If half the tales I had heard of the Blightspawn were true, I much preferred for Celestia to destroy them long before they neared our borders. Celestia nodded. “This is not the first time I have left Canterlot. I will still tend to the heavens, and I have left the day-to-day governance in the realm in capable hooves. I have every confidence that thou shalt rule well.” She smirked. “In fact, I worry that you might rule so well that Equestria does not e’en wish for me to return.” “Such a thing could ne’er happen,” Shadow answered, ever the dutiful servant. “‘Tis most unlikely,” I agreed. While Shadow’s answer came from loyalty to the crown, I simply stated an obvious fact. Where Celestia had the devotion of much of ponykind, I could only think of one pony in all the world who similarly loved me, and Midnight had little choice in the matter. ‘Twas a fact that occasionally irked me, but the feelings of the ignorant masses mattered little. If they did not appreciate of their betters then I would simply rise above their scorn and show I was the superior mare through my actions. To start, I would show them all that I could be an excellent regent. If all the world expected me to be a self-serving lout, then I would defy the fools by being a very paragon of responsible governance. Though I held no hope of winning the love of the fools, Celestia and Shadow might well realize they should heed mine advice more often once I proved myself. I would sooner have the approval of those two than the mindless devotion of countless throngs of easily led fools. There are times when managing mine own daughter is every bit as bothersome as ruling o’er of Equestria. Midnight has always been a rather unusual child, at least insofar as I understood such things. As she was mine only child I had little to measure her against, but Shadow and Celestia were both experienced in such things and concurred that she was unique. It should come as no surprise, then, that her puberty was every bit as unusual as every other aspect of life. Still, there were evidently some matters where she did not stray too far from the norm. That would explain why when I returned to my quarters I found her standing before one of my mirrors with most of my cosmetics neatly organized around her. I had never especially cared for such things, but social norms demanded I use them when mingling with the high and mighty at court. While a bit of magic could achieve most of the same effect, it was often more efficient to use mundane means. I cleared my throat. “Midnight, what art thou doing?” Midnight let out a startled squeak, then spun around. “Um, looking in your mirror, Mother?” Her face was a complete mess, made all the worse by a near-competence that made her mistakes all the more glaring. The blush was too close to her nose so it looked like she had a terrible cold or had been out drinking, and my foundation was completely the wrong color for her. Small surprise, given her coat was much darker than mine. I tutted and shook my head. “Thou really must learn how to apply that properly. I suppose I should be glad you did not find any of my more valuable cosmetics.” Thankfully she had not gotten into my perfume stocks, or I might have lost hundreds of bits. A preposterous expense just to change how I smelt, but observing the expected social norms often requires one to do things that are patently ridiculous. Midnight answered me with a sour look and an insolent tone. “You said you would teach me how to do this.” I repressed mine irritation with her. Lately she had grown more and more willful, as children are wont to do at her age. My small filly had become a lanky mare who, while not quite full grown yet, was at least near enough to it that she resented being treated as a child. No matter how plain ’twas that she was not yet truly an adult. This latest bit of minor defiance was just another example of that. “And I shall teach thee, child. The world does not always move as quickly as thou wouldst wish. I have many duties, and soon shall have e’en more.” Midnight answered with an exasperated sigh. Doubtless she believed Celestia was leaving the capital and naming me as regent purely to vex her. Children of that age often seemed to believe that the world revolved entirely around them and their petty concerns. “That is what you said last week. And the month before that.” “I have said it because ‘tis true,” I answered with an unamused frown. “I am second only to Her Majesty, and only Shadow stands as mine equal. Such a post comes with many responsibilities.  Starting next week there will be e’en more, for Celestia named me Regent of Equestria for the duration of her absence from Canterlot.” Midnight frowned at me, tilting her head to the side. “Why you? Could Her Majesty not name Shadow as regent?” A question I had asked myself when the decision came down, but hearing it from mine own daughter’s lips was most irksome. “And why should I not be regent? I have been in her service far longer than Shadow e'er was.” My daughter stared at me unblinkingly. “Because ponies will not instantly accuse her of trying to overthrow Her Majesty and start a reign of terror and tyranny where ponies are thrown in jail and executed at the merest suspicion of disloyalty, the severed heads of traitors decorating all public buildings until the crows and raven pick the skulls clean as spies and agents of the crown lurk in every corner of the kingdom whilst terrible wars are waged in your name. None believe that Shadow as regent could end in a dark age falling over Equestria that would make Sombra’s rule over the Crystal Empire seem like reasonable and even-hoofed in comparison.” Midnight blinked, her head cocking to the side. “Such ideas are of course foolish.” “Naturally.” I did not see the need to indulge my daughter’s morbid flights of fancy by acknowledging them. Her fascination with death and suffering did not appear to be harmful, but ‘twas off-putting to most who did not know her well. “Evidently Her Majesty knows that I would not do such a thing, and cares not for the foolish thoughts of the mob.” “I see.” Midnight nodded slowly. “To be named as her regent is a great honor. How long will Queen Celestia be gone?” I shrugged. “It is unclear at this time. Likely she would not e’en need to appoint a regent if she were certain when she would return. She has business in Northmarch, and the task could end quickly or require an extended absence.” “Then ’tis entirely possible you could rule o’er Equestria for months or e’en years,” Midnight concluded. “If there is an element of danger to her mission, you might e’en find yourself with an empty throne.” She rubbed her chin. “Though I would never wish ill upon Her Majesty, that would grant you the opportunity to crown yourself as the new queen, and I would become a princess. That would be an interesting turn of events.” She frowned into the mirror. “What are your plans for when she is gone? Will you take this an an opportunity to destroy your enemies, grind them under your hoof, and have a party?” I scoffed and shook my head. A child’s understanding of politics. “Celestia will return in due time, and I would not give her cause to think I have abused her trust. As much as this is an opportunity, ‘tis also a great threat.” “How so?” She studied herself for a few moments longer, then began rifling through my cosmetics for something to correct the damage. I sighed and readied a cloth to clean away the mess my daughter had made of herself. “Because if Her Majesty has any cause to think I have misused my power as regent, I will suffer for it. A few month’s indulgence is not worth a lifetime of lost power. Mine enemies will doubtless spend the entire regency searching for any decision they can use against me upon her return, and I would be a fool to aid them.” I put the cloth to work on her, scraping away the blush and foundation both. Starting o’er from nothing would be far easier. Midnight grumbled and tried to squirm away like a petulant child. “I can clean myself, I am not a filly anymore.” “Perhaps thou canst clean yourself, but thou didst not.” I put a hoof on the back of her head to hold her in place, but she offered no more resistance beyond more of her half-hearted complaints. Once I was close to finished she let forth with an especially melodramatic sigh. “So what will you be doing? Why give you power if nothing is to be done with it?” I nearly rolled mine eyes. Children have such a limited view of politics. “I shall certainly be using my power. Just because I should not act in a manner radically opposed to Celestia's wishes does not leave me utterly restricted. In fact, it might e’en be a chance to show her how wise she would be to heed my words more often. T’is a chance to show how my ideals translate to practical action with tangible results.” “I know you would like that.” Midnight nodded slowly, then frowned and tilted her head to the side. “But I do not know why you would like that. Have you not often said that one of the most important things to understand about others is what they want, and why? If so, then surely it would benefit me to know why you wish to influence how Her Majesty rules o’er Equestria.” My daughter’s curiosity appeared to be as endless as ever. I suppose I should be grateful she was at least asking me these questions at decent hours rather than disturbing myself or others in the wee hours of the morning. Despite my best efforts to break her of that particular eccentricity, she had clung to it most stubbornly. “Because I am the best suited to do so.” Midnight cocked her head to the side. “And that is the only reason you should hold power over Equestria, because you are the best at doing these duties?” I shrugged. “What other reason wouldst thou suggest, child?” Midnight nodded to the stack of books sitting next to her. “Some of these books say otherwise. This one suggests that only the noble in heart should rule, for example.” I scoffed. “Nobility is pointless without the competence to bring those goals to light. What good is a ruler with a noble heart if ‘tis accompanied by such poor judgment that their decisions lead to endless disasters? Will good intentions comfort those who starve when famine, plague, or war strike due to the crown’s mismanagement? Recall that Queen Silver Dreams of Old Unicornia might have been a paragon of virtue, but her poor choice in friends and allies lead to one of the most infamously corrupt royal courts in all our history.” “I see.” Midnight frowned thoughtfully. “This book made the opposite argument. Competency matters little without the moral center to guide it. King Sombra and the Nightmare would hardly have been better rulers if they were more capable of executing their plans to plunge Equestria into eternal darkness and damnation.” “To which I would respond that competency includes setting reasonable goals,” I answered smoothly. I had debated the matter with Shadow and Celestia; mine own daughter would hardly best me. “A capable ruler realizes that unleashing unending misery upon the populace is a pointless endeavour. A ruler’s strength derives from the strength of their realm, and weakening that power in pointless displays of egotism and madness accomplishes nothing.” Midnight frowned at the book. “I do not know why you assign me these books when you think them wrong.” “Because others do not think so, and knowing how others think is valuable,” I answered. “And challenging one’s own beliefs ultimately refines and strengthens them, or reveals them to be wanting and in need of replacement. If I ne’er allowed mine own ideals to be challenged, they would become little more than mindlessly repeated dogma.” My daughter slowly nodded. “That does seem logically sound. Though another thought has just  occurred to me.” She stared up at me unblinkingly. “You said that a ruler derives their strength from the strength of their realm. But in the past, you have criticized other forms of government from deviating from this norm.” “Aye,” I agreed. “We saw it readily enough in the old system. Each of the three pony tribes jockeyed for supremacy within the realm, and the governments of the other two tribes suffered for their internal divisions. The individual Ephors often competed for position within their own ranks rather than focus upon what was best for all. As for the Earth Pony Republic...” I snorted contemptuously. “Electoral governance must be one of the most foolish experiments e’er devised by ponykind. It produces leaders who have only two incentives: to secure re-election, and to enrich themselves as much as possible for the limited time they are able to hold office. They have no reason to govern well, merely catering to the whims of the mob in whate’er way will provide them with immediate gratification. If their policies would lead to ruin in a decade’s time ... well by then they shall no longer hold office, and their successors would be blamed for it.” “Would not the same apply to your regency?” Midnight asked calmly. “Historically there have been regents who sought to extend the regency for as long as possible, and many of them were notorious for abusing their office.” “Precisely,” I agreed. “The difference is that my regency is a distinctly temporary thing, and I shall be held to account by a wise and clear-sighted leader rather than an easily manipulated mob of uninformed fools.” I sighed and ran a hoof down my face. “Though thy words do cast a new light upon it: the earth ponies looked at all the worst aspects of our temporary regencies, then somehow crafted a government which makes all those temporary flaws a permanent institution. A truly impressive feat of madness.” I thought it over a moment, then shrugged. “Though we are uniquely blessed with Celestia as our ruler. An immortal monarch solves many of the inherent flaws in the system. We need not dispute the succession, or fear that our next queen will be insane or addled. A simple, orderly continuity guided by a single pony’s will.” Midnight cocked her head to the side. “So if Equestria had mortal rulers and you were instead serving as regent to a child queen, matters might be different?” “Mayhaps,” I agreed with a helpless shrug. All manner of absurdities might result if one changes the fundamental facts. Rather than allow my daughter to go down a tangent of ‘What if?’ questions that could consume hours of our time, I applied myself to something more immediately useful. “Now, let us get to teaching thee properly. If thou art to be a regent's daughter, thy place is next to me at court—and I will not have my daughter looking anything less than the finest jewel in all of Equestria.” If mine own child looked wild and undisciplined, the rest of Equestria would have no faith in mine ability to lead them. Midnight nodded and favored me with one of her unique smiles. I would have to remind her not to smile so long as we were in court. “Very well then, Mother. I was considering coloring my mane. Mayhaps with pink, or with black. Or even both.” I sighed and massaged my temples. I had a sinking feeling that trying to teach my daughter how to make herself look presentable would be far more bothersome than such a simple task ought to be. The next several hours would prove that fear entirely justified. > The Golden Path 2 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Celestia’s throne was not half as comfortable as one might think. It should perhaps not be a surprise; thrones were designed to look grand and impress visitors with the power and majesty of the one occupying it. As with the crown, scepter, elaborate costumes, and other the royal accoutrements, comfort was at best a secondary consideration. Celestia had once confided that the old saying about how the head that wears the crown shall always be uneasy was not only true in the metaphorical sense, but also in a quite literal one on account of the weight of the crown jewels. Doubtless why she preferred to dispense with them whenever a less formal style would suffice. Even if comfort had been a consideration in the design of Celestia’s throne, it had naturally been designed with her own rather more substantial anatomy in mind. I disliked the symbolic implications of the fact that I was too small to properly fill out the throne. Pity I could not make a new one better suited to my size, but there were dozens of reasons that would end badly. And so, uneasy rested the buttocks that occupied the throne. Not quite as quotable as the saying about heads and crowns. My daughter stood nearby looking quite satisfactorily presentable. Taking the time to instruct her in the art of personal appearance clearly had not gone to waste, even if it had required disabusing her of a few of her odd notions. The skull-shaped brooch pin had been a small enough concession to her eccentricities, especially since it convinced her to otherwise conform to convention. In truth, mine own appearance vexed me far more than my child’s. I might occupy the throne, but ‘twould hardly be fitting to adorn myself in the royal style. However, that begged the question of what manner I should present myself in. My usual garb as a magus was simply too ordinary; if I looked as my old self I would continue to be treated as such. ‘Twas at times like this that I envied Shadow her culture: none would think it amiss if an old soldier of Pegasopolis simply kept to the same armor she wore on all other occasions. Her utter refusal to play the games of court politics was one of the things I found alternately delightful and endlessly frustrating about her. Mayhaps I should purge the court of all its useless nobles in Celestia’s absence. Her Majesty would doubtless be wroth with me when she returned, but her short term ire would be offset by her long term gratitude. Pity she would almost certainly not see it that way, and would likely undo the reforms. In hindsight, we should have planned to properly exploit the opportunity presented by my regency. I could ram through reforms, and upon her return Celestia could undo enough provisions to calm the nobles while leaving in place the most important changes. Alas, without some prearranged plan such a gambit would be unlikely to succeed. In any case, I had already lain the groundwork for the irrelevance of the noble class. I could wait for their downfall to come in its own time. As they yet continued to exist, I needed to play their games. I ultimately chose to take a measure of inspiration from my dear Shadow and emphasize a more martial aspect for my time as regent. ‘Twould set me apart from the rest of the court, which had largely abandoned martial fashion once the war ended. Not that I had any desire to dress in the foppishly impractical excuses for armor that had dominated when such was in fashion, but I saw no harm in a few decorative elements to my uniform. There was but a thin layer of bronze o’er my breastplate, and while my fur-trimmed cape was rather heavy and impractical ‘twould be easily discarded in the event that it became an impediment. I also altered the manner in which I applied mine own cosmetics, emphasizing lines that I normally blurred. The end result was a far more severe and mature mien than I normally favored—one that suited a ruler far better than a courtier. Though no less attractive, if I was to judge by the approving look in Shadow’s eyes when I first entered the room. I settled upon Celestia’s less than comfortable throne. “It is to be petitioners today, aye?” “It is,” Shadow confirmed. “Shall we begin?” I waved my acquiescence. “By all means.” Taking petitions was one of the oldest traditions of the royal court. The right to bring a matter before the monarch and request that they rule upon it directly was one of the oldest ones in all Unicornia and enjoyed by all citizens in good standing. Or at least, such was the letter of the law. In practice it took quite a bit of influence to even submit a petition for consideration, let alone have it actually heard by the throne. Pity I didn’t have the time and freedom to redraw the entire structure for how such matter arrived before the throne. It could be one of the few uses for the democratic processes the earth ponies had once used, at least once we had sufficient measures to weed out the possibility of mob rule and corruption. Perhaps once Her Majesty returned and I had the free time for such a project. For the moment I could only hear out the cases before me. Most of them were relatively mundane disputes that should have been resolved well before reaching the throne, but such was the joy of leadership. If they could solve all these problems themselves they would have no need for a queen in the first place. Another fine example of such arrived before me when the majordomo announced the next petitioner. “Dawn Cumulus wishes to the petition the throne for redress.” The mare who had once been Dawn Charger marched into the room. Her feathers were matted even to mine eyes, likely preened in haste out in the halls at the last moment, and her close-cut mane and tail looked as though they had been combed through with a barely sober hoof moments before. Some attempt had been made to disguise the bags beneath her eyes, but ‘twas ultimately undercut by the impotent glare she spared me as she grumbled under her breath. Doubtless she protested the reminder that her clan name had been stripped away as punishment for her and her brother’s crimes. She should be grateful I let her keep her head. Compared to that, a name was a small price to pay. “How fitting to have Lady Protector Shadow join us when she is the one most responsible for my current woes.” Dawn spat the title out with no small amount of venom as her eyes settled on me, and I could plainly see the resentment burning within them. “Though your presence is a surprise. Is this some jest, or has Canterlot dispensed with pretense about who wears the leash and who holds it?” I had no inclination to indulge her pettiness. “Thou art free to leave, or else condemn thyself to a week in the stocks with thy next words. The next petitioner is a war widow whose husband was slain by some of your former kin, and now needs the crown’s aid to see to her children. She would doubtless appreciate not having that delayed by thee. If, however, thou wouldst petition the crown rather than disrespect it...” Dawn scowled as the palace guards began closing in, then held up a hoof—likely the closest she would allow herself to come to an actual apology. “I have come with a legitimate petition for the throne, regardless of who sits upon it. Specifically, a stallion of Clan Kicker who has harassed me unceasingly. His superiors have ignored my petitions for redress, and no other authority will move against your Lady Protector’s clan.” Shadow let forth with a sigh that made it all too clear she knew precisely what Dawn spoke of. I turned to her. “Explain.” “She speaks of Morningdew Kicker.” Shadow spared an annoyed look for Dawn. “Her father. He has made several attempts to approach her to rekindle ties.” Dawn scowled and shook her head. “I have no father. I know my family; many of them are dead. Morningdew is naught but a stranger to me.” I sat back in my chair to let Shadow and Dawn debate the matter, that they might provide me with all the information needed to make my decision. Shadow frowned at her. “I know that Morningdew is all but a stranger to thee, but that is precisely why he wishes to become better acquainted. I would think thou wouldst seek the comfort of family and clan again.” Dawn scoffed. “‘Clan and family’? Such would be a hollow mockery of what I know. What comfort could Morningdew’s clan offer? What family could I have among strangers who so eagerly betrayed their own and were richly rewarded for it? Do not think I have forgotten that you have the blood of my sister on your hooves.” “Lance’s death was a tragedy I would have prevented if I could,” Shadow answered coolly. “And thou wouldst be wise not to make enemies out of those who offer their friendship. Thou art as much a Kicker by blood as a Charger. E’en if thou wouldst not join our clan, ‘tis cruel to deny thine own father the chance to know thee.” “He is no father of mine,” Dawn growled. “Morningdew's offers and presence are unwelcome, and I would have them cease. Immediately.” “I see.” I frowned and considered the matter. On the balance, I was inclined to ignore a spiteful mare who had nothing but hate in her heart. However, I did not have the luxury of such things. “Has he acted in violation of the law?” “Is it illegal for a father to care for his daughter?” Shadow answered at once. “He cares for me?” Dawn scoffed and shook her head. “Until he first approached me, I could not have picked him out from a crowd if Shield’s life depended on it. E’en his name was an enigma until after the war’s end, and he is only father to me in that he lay with my mother and put me upon her. I have no desire to come to know him better and would be left in peace.” I put Shadow to the question once more. “Why does he persist when ‘tis plain that Dawn wants nothing to do with him?” Shadow cleared her throat. “If I might speak bluntly of private matters?” “Of course,” I threw up a quick spell to blot out the hearing of our many observers to enclose only myself, Shadow, and Dawn. Once the spell was in place Shadow wasted no time getting straight to the point. “Dawn is in a sorry state. Morningdew had all but forgotten his daughter until the guards called him after she became involved in an ... altercation at one of the local taverns. She is apparently quite notorious in most of them for her heavy drinking and belligerence whene’er the war is discussed. After she was less than grateful when last he vouched for her, Dusk was inclined to let her cool her hooves in the cells for a few days. The guards then saw her father’s name in her records and...” Shadow grimaced and shook her head. “When Morningdew learned that his daughter was a sot whose life was in such shambles that e’en her own brother seemed near to giving up hope in her, he felt he was obligated to do something. He had only remained out of Dawn’s life at Bright's request; she always felt she should be the sole parent of her brood. Now Bright is dead, and he sees a daughter in desperate need of guidance.” “I neither need nor want his help,” Dawn snarled. “Striking a few drunken fools who dared to dishonor the memory of my fallen kin is no crime.” “Thy fallen kin were traitors to the realm who broke their oath to Equestria and would have put us under the reign of the Nightmare,” I reminded her. “Many will speak ill of them, and not without cause. Learn to endure it, or thou wilt eventually give cause for a duel.” Dawn stubbornly stood her ground. “If that is how it ends, then so be it.” Shadow let out a frustrated sigh. “You see what we must deal with?” “Aye, I do.” I let the spells drop as I announced my decision. “Regardless of the circumstances, Dawn Cumulus is an adult. She is free to make what decisions she will so long as she follow the law and sees to her duties and obligations. If she wishes to spurn her father, that is also her decision. He should respect her wishes and leave her in peace.” Dawn blinked and stared at me in shock, doubtless stunned that I had ruled in her favor. She was not the only one—Shadow was halfway to objecting when I shot a rather pointed look her way. Thankfully, my dear friend was not half so ignorant of the ways of courtly politics as she liked to pretend, and she held her peace. Open discord ‘tween the two of us would end badly. E’en though I outranked her, I knew that her clan and many others would flock to her side if the Regent gave one order and the Lady Protector another. Once our business in court was finished I would show Shadow the proper solution to the matter of Dawn. Morningdew could hardly force her to see him as a father. Appealing to mere sentiment was ne’er a wise a choice and e’en more foolish when none existed. Dawn had no reason to think fondly of him, so ‘twas no surprise she rejected any effort on his part. However, her own actions offered the ideal solution. My warning that eventually she would cross a line was as close to certain as any prediction could be. History has shown time and again that those who turn to liquor for comfort meet one of two ends: either they destroy themselves, or they reach a low enough point to come to their senses and turn against their vices. Should Dawn reach such a point, she would need a father who could stand by her side and help her rebuild the life she had cast aside. Or perhaps she would ne’er discover such sense, and instead find her death in the bottom of a bottle. But that was hardly something to bring up to Shadow. And in any case, trying to badger Dawn into changing her ways seemed unlikely to work. In all likelihood the added stress would merely give her another excuse to indulge herself. Dawn, not being privy to my private thoughts, stared at me with a faintly confused frown. “I had not expected to find justice from the throne, least of all when you held it.” I saw the chance to make a statement and rose to my hooves. “This throne does not stand for the unicorns, pegasi, or earth ponies. This is not the throne of the nobles, the guilds, or the clans. This is the throne of Equestria, and all loyal citizens are entitled to equal protection beneath it.” That remark earned the approving murmurs I’d hoped for. Only a couple of the nobles grasped that my statement made it quite plain they were not entitled to any of the special privileges they felt they deserved, and none of them seemed inclined to comment when ‘twas plain the crowd was against them. Dawn Cumulus scowled faintly but said nothing more, and departed with a curt nod. I smiled and settled back into a throne that felt a touch more comfortable than it had a few minutes ago. “Send in the next petitioner.” After the public meetings and petitions came the private sessions. The first of these was one I had not been looking forward to: Ambassador Silver Tithe. Perhaps there were greater fools than the Golden Path to be found somewhere in the world, but I could think of few. Perhaps the rebels had been their equal, but then the rebels and the Golden Path ultimately fell into the same affliction. When presented with the chance to draw their own destiny, free of some so-called higher power dictating their fate, they promptly created a false one to make slaves of themselves once more. At least when the rebels had stood for an end to immortal rule I could understand their position. Once they changed their cause to becoming slaves to the Nightmare it was naught but madness. The Golden Path suffered a similar affliction with their false gods. Alas, for now I must receive them as a dignified and noble regent, rather than a vizier who could be somewhat more open with her disdain. Silver Tithe strode into the throne room, wearing a smile just a touch too wide to be genuine. The zony had dressed himself in a somewhat understated version of the latest court fashions, eschewing the large hats and excessive jewelry that many favored even as he draped himself in blue and purple silk. The vibrant colors offset his otherwise dull coloring; between a grey coat and relatively faded striping he looked almost uniformly grey. When he spoke, his words all but oozed friendly obsequiousness. “Regent Sunbeam, on behalf of the Golden Path I am delighted to congratulate you on your ascension. Such an honor for your goddess to grant you authority over her domain in her absence. I had hoped to meet with the great Celestia herself, but it is truly delightful to know we will get to spend more time together. And really, this is a minor matter that is hardly worth troubling a divine being over. I’m sure we can resolve this quite well on our own.” If it was that minor, he wouldn’t have brought it up to Celestia in the first place. Once more I regretted that my new position didn’t give me the option of telling him to stow the flattery and get straight to the point. “Thank you for your kind words, Silver. What matter was it you wished to discuss with the crown?” “I’m sure you’ve heard by now of the incident in Manehattan,” Silver drew himself up to his full height, righteous indignation entering his voice. “I cannot imagine what your customs officials could possibly have been thinking. Can you imagine?! The sheer unmitigated arrogance it must take to seize the property of a god?!” I was sorely tempted to remark that such could only be exceeded by the arrogance needed to believe oneself to be a god. Alas, while Grand Vizier Sunbeam could make such a cutting remark, Regent Sunbeam could not. Shadow cleared her throat and filled the void. “Our port officials were performing their duties. All trade vessels are required to provide a full cargo manifest upon entering our port, as well as paying all customs duties associated with that cargo. Your master’s vessel failed to report any of the crossbows our inspectors found hidden behind smuggling panels.” Silver immediately shifted back to charming magnanimity. “Oh my dear Lady Protector, you exaggerate. Cargo inevitably shifts around on a ship at sea, and it is only natural that a few things might slip out of sight. I am quite certain that the captain had no intention of leaving such an important part of his ship’s cargo off the manifest, it was just a minor little paperwork error. I assure you, we will discipline him for this lapse once he returns.” He shifted back to me. “Now that we’ve cleared up this minor little misunderstanding, I trust we can move on to happier topics. When should the master expect to have his ship released?” My daughter saw fit to enter the conversation in her usual manner. “How will the captain be punished by your gods? Will he be set afire, his skin turned into charred flesh while it cracks away from his bones? Or will he be smote by lightning that will leave him a sizzling and twitching corpse? Or will he be simply hanged like a common brigand, his neck snapped and his body swaying for all to see and the ravens to feed upon?” She blinked, staring at him. “I think ‘twould be most useful to know what form of justice your gods bring upon those who displease them. I am rather curious—I have never met a god before.” Silver blinked a couple times, staring back at her. Hardly the most unusual reaction to my daughter’s morbid flights of fancy. Eventually he managed to find an answer. “I would not presume to know the mind of a god.” Midnight frowned, tilting her head to the side. “But surely you know how they tend to punish the wicked? Have they not punished those that displease them? I have heard that blasphemers are often dealt with harshly in Freeport.” Silver spared a quick glance for me, but when he saw I was not inclined to silence my daughter he turned to her with another one of his unctuous smiles. “Yes, the gods have many ways to punish the wicked. However, that is but a single part of what they do, and not even the most important. They guide us, lift us up, and help us achieve all that we might hope to.” “I see.” Midnight went silent for long enough that Silver had presumed she was finished and was about to resume his business. When she finally spoke he jumped in surprise. “So how will the captain of this vessel likely be punished? He has violated our laws and caused a diplomatic incident. Mother is not likely to see him let go if he is not to be punished.” Silver shrugged. “As I said, that is a decision for the gods to make.” “Do your gods personally decide upon the punishment of every single lapse that occurs in Freeport?” Midnight queried. “That seems like it would quickly become dull and vexatious. Would it not be more efficient to establish general rules and guidelines for their mortal followers to enforce on a day-to-day basis?” Silver chuckled indulgently. “Perhaps it might seem that way to you, child, but the gods are far greater and wiser than us.” Midnight frowned and slowly cocked her head to the side. “Why is that?” Silver stared at her for several seconds, seemingly at a loss for words. “Because they are gods.” Midnight’s head slowly tilted back in the other direction. “What are your gods? I have only heard a little of them.” Silver smiled, evidently back in his comfort zone now that he could discuss the virtues of the beings he’d somehow deluded himself into thinking were gods. “The gods guide us, for they are wise in all things. Much like your Celestia, they teach us what is right and wrong, guide us towards a bright future, and show us the way forward. Freeport is truly blessed, for the gods walk among us and share their beneficence with us.” While Midnight considered this, Shadow leaned in and discretely whispered. “Should we be allowing her to do this? Thou knowest her questions could continue for hours.” “Aye, and it amuses me to watch someone else suffer them.” Though Shadow and Celestia had dealt with their share of my daughter’s insatiable curiosity, I would always be her first and favorite victim. Howe’er, Shadow was not wrong to raise such concerns. “I will put an end to it when the time comes.” While Shadow and I discussed, Midnight seemed to have decided upon her next inquiry. “You say that the gods walk amongst you. Is that not because the Golden Path summoned them and made them possess people?” Silver nodded along. “We followed their instructions to help them take corporeal form in our plane of existence, yes.” “Why would they want to be here?” Midnight asked. “Could they not give instructions from their home plane? An ethereal being embodying an abstract concept would likely find being confined to a single corporeal form incredibly restricting. What would a god even need with a physical body that can bleed, and grow tired or hungry?” Silver frowned at her. “They wished to bless us with their presence, for Freeport is favored above all other nations. The zebras and gryphons have no true gods at all, and even Equestria has but a single goddess to watch o’er them.” Shadow frowned. “Celestia is not a goddess, though she may seem like unto one. She is wise but not omniscient, and powerful but not omnipotent.” “That is so,” Midnight agreed. “But I have heard many call her a goddess. Most agree that while divine beings have powers and abilities far beyond those of ordinary ponies they do still have limits to their capacity. She is an immortal being of incredible power and wisdom, but she is not a goddess. Otherwise she would demand we worship her.” Silver smiled. “It reminds me of one of those delightful turns of phrase I heard once while I was taking the sights in Equestria: ‘If it walks like a duck, talks like a duck, and looks like a duck, it’s probably a duck.’ Though it seems somewhat disrespectful to apply the same saying to a divine being, it would seem to be the case here.” Much as it irked me, he had a bit of a point. Though Celestia had never presented herself in a divine light she still had largely fallen into that role. And e’en if she did not declare herself a goddess, she certainly had not done anything to discourage those like the Cult of Sol Invictus who did venerate her. More fools them. Mine own opinion on her ... the old saying that familiarity breeds contempt seemed the best way to explain my feelings towards Celestia. That is not to say that I hated her or held her in contempt, but rather I knew her far too well to see her as the perfect all-knowing wise and benevolent being so much of Equestria thought they knew. She was a great mare, but not a flawless one. Her extended melancholy after her sister’s banishment had planted the seeds of the rebellion, and her hesitation in acting decisively allowed those seeds to blossom. I had long suspected that a part of it stemmed from the fear of her own power. When the rebels accused her of exiling her sister out of naked power lust they could not have been further from the truth. Celestia doubtless tortured herself over having not done more to save Luna when in all honesty she had gone too far. How many had died in the Rebellion that might yet live had she cut her sister down rather than allow her exile? Mine own daughter had nearly been among the fallen, and if she had been I would ne’er have forgiven Celestia for her mercy. Aye, a wise ruler must respect the power they wield and use it cautiously. However, there is a great difference between caution and fear. She concerned herself so much with the possibility of being a tyrant that she sometimes failed to be an effective leader. Or mayhaps she hoped to lead ponykind past the point of needing leaders such as herself by lifting everyone else up to her level. A noble sentiment and one I supported in conception, but e’en among equals there are those who command and those who follow. “Celestia is not a goddess,” I concluded. “Whatever her abilities and gifts, she does not choose to be nor does she conduct herself as divine. Our choices define who we are far more than a few natural gifts.” “I can think of a dozen counter-examples easily,” Silver answered breezily. “But I am sure we do not want to turn this into a debate over philosophy and theology. We would hardly want to bore your daughter.” Midnight blinked and stared at him. “I would not find such a discussion boring at all. There are many interesting matters to discuss. If you disagree with Mother about the importance of personal choice and presentation, then what makes your gods truly gods?” Silver closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “The fact that they are gods. They are eternal, all-powerful, all-knowing perfect beings the likes of which no mortal could e’er hope to match. Thy mother says that it is a matter of choice, but I would contend that I could no more be a god than thou couldst be a gryphon.” “Ah, I see.” Midnight frowned in thought. “So if your god is all-knowing, did he know that his crossbows would be misplaced and undocumented, and his captain arrested for smuggling? I would think he would not be so upset if he knew such a thing would happen well in advance.” Silver scowled, his patience plainly exhausted now that she was poking holes in his beliefs. “Children should not ask such blasphemous questions.” I knew the time had come and promptly waved Midnight o’er to my side. “I think thou hast asked the ambassador enough, child.” My daughter’s ears drooped as I put an end to her curiosity. “Oh. Very well then.” I turned back to Silver Tithe. “Thank you for bringing this matter to my attention. I will consider your request, ambassador.” Silver frowned. “With all respect, regent, I had hoped to provide my master with the news that his property would be returned once this meeting was over.” “Then I am sorry to disappoint you,” I answered. “Howe’er, a matter of this much importance merits careful consideration.” I had expected him to back down at this point, going back to his usual smiling obsequiousness. Instead, Silver did something I had not been expecting. He stood his ground. “Regent, the gods do not like to be kept waiting. I am afraid that I must insist on having an answer at once.” “I see.” Evidently Silver had forgotten one of the most important rules of diplomacy: ‘If you need an answer right now, then it will be no.’ “In that case—” He must have seen how it was going to go, because he quickly cut me off, switching back to such an excess of oily charm I was surprised he did not leave a trail on the floor. “Of course, I am sure I can explain to the gods that you merely wish to ensure that their property is returned properly and with all due haste. While Celestia would of course act with utmost urgency to correct this wrong, I know that you doubtless have many concerns and duties. I would not want to deprive you of the pleasure of informing the Great God Veritanu personally that you will be returning his property to him.” That last remark was unexpected. “Did you say—” “Oh, a thousand apologies,” Silver oozed. “I suppose in all the excitement of discussing minor legal matters and the fascinating theological debate I had with your daughter, I forgot the most important fact of all: Equestria will soon be blessed by the presence of one of the gods themselves. My Lord Veritanu was most eager to visit Equestria once I sent him word of the latest developments. I do hope you will be willing to receive him with all the honors and dignity that a visiting god deserves.” Shadow and I traded a look. One of Freeport’s false gods coming here? And evidently deciding to do so immediately after he learned that Celestia was no longer in Canterlot, no less? That was decidedly ominous. However, Regent Sunbeam had only one response that Queen Celestia would approve of upon her return. “Of course. We would be honored to receive him.” > The Golden Path 3 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- To say that I was displeased to learn that we would shortly have to play host to one of the Golden Path’s so-called gods would be a gross understatement. My choler was up, and as soon as I left the public eye I was quick to vent my spleen. Thankfully only Shadow and my daughter were there to hear it, and both of them were accustomed to facing me in a wroth mood. My tower had more than enough defenses to keep away anyone with an unhealthy degree of curiosity, especially within my more modestly appointed and heavily defended private quarters rather than the luxurious but less secure rooms I used to receive less trusted guests. Or to be more precise, guests who were not Shadow or Celestia. With our privacy ensured, I could finally speak my mind. “Damnation! Bad enough we must endure Silver’s simpering obsequiousness, but now we must see him grovel before one of the abominations he worships! Doubtless it will expect us to show it the same mindless obedience it enjoys from its followers. Why could it not just remain rotting in Freeport where ‘twould be much easier to pretend it does not exist?!” Shadow, as was her custom, weathered mine anger stoically. Once ‘twas plain I had said all I intended, she offered her own thoughts. “I am curious to know why this Lord Veritanu has come all the way to Equestria for what seems a relatively trifling matter. A bit of relatively petty smuggling and a tax dispute hardly seems worth the trouble of spending weeks away from Freeport.” She frowned and tapped at the floor a few times. “In Pegasopolis, we had a saying: ‘Opponents always move in ways that make sense to them.’” ‘Twas not difficult to grasp the point she drove at. “So if his actions make no sense to us, then it must be on account of him knowing something that we do not or else not knowing something that we do.” I scowled and shook my head. “Or the twisted abominations that call themselves gods are utterly mad, and driven by whims beyond our comprehension.” “Yet e’en in madness there may be a method to it,” Midnight spoke up. “If this mad creature hears voices in its head demanding one day that it capture a dozen innocents, flay them alive, and then wear their skins as a cloak whilst bathing their blood, it will do so. ‘Twill also seek to placate the voices within its shattered mind if they demand it pick wildflowers.” She blinked, her eyelids moving slowly and out of synch with one another. “There is still a kind of logic to its actions. The creature merely acts upon perceived facts that none but itself see as real.” She cocked her head to the side. “Perhaps if we heard the same voices within the privacy of our own minds, we would act much the same.” I snorted. “If thou dost e’er hear a voice other than thine own within the privacy of thy mind, I expect thee to have the good sense to ignore it.” My daughter stared at me for several seconds, then slowly nodded. “I see. I shall do my best to remember that.” “See that thou dost.” Were I any other mother raising any other daughter, I might have assumed the entire exchange had been a bit of tongue-in-cheek wit. Considering my daughter’s history and considerable eccentricities, it seemed entirely too likely she would need to take that advice quite literally at some point. Not that Midnight ever took things any other way. I had hoped that Midnight might fall silent now that I had answered her first interruption, but she spoke up once more. “You have often said that the key to manipulating others rests in a firm understanding of what it is they desire. If that is so, then would it not be prudent to find out what is is that this Lord Veritanu wants?” “Aye, ‘twould.” Shadow idly patted her head. “The obvious answer would be that he wants his ship and cargo back, but that hardly seems a prize worthy of the time and trouble of a personal visit to Equestria. The cost of making the trip and abandoning his interests in Freeport would likely be higher than the value of a single vessel.” “Aye, there is some hidden agenda here.” I scowled down at the floor. “Which is the problem with thy suggestion, my child: we do not know what he wants. That makes him far more dangerous, and his actions harder to predict.” “Perhaps the cargo is not so mundane as it might appear?” Shadow suggested. “A possibility worth investigating,” I agreed. “I will—” I hesitated a moment. Under other circumstances I might take the lead in such an investigation. ‘Twas perhaps a small measure below my station, but ‘twas far from unusual for an Archmagus to do a bit of field work. The matter was plainly important to Equestria’s security given Veritanu’s involvement, and an Archmagus might uncover things that ordinary investigators would miss. However, I was no longer an Archmagus; I was the regent. Rulers do not have the luxury of abandoning their post. Veritanu might be a threat, but he was one of many problems that assailed the realm. If I focused all my time and attention on him a dozen new problems may arise in my absence, and every other matter needing the crown’s attention would fester like an untended wound. While an Archmagus could handle things personally, a ruler often had no choice but to delegate such things to her subordinates. And so, Sunbeam the Regent answered. “I will have one of our better magi look into the matter. Morning Star, mayhaps.” If there were any hidden enchantments upon the captured weapons, Morning would surely find them as well as I could. Mayhaps e’en a touch better, given her more frequent experience in such matters. My daughter frowned, her head slowly tilting to the side. “You are sending Morning Star away? Will this mean I cannot continue my lessons with her?” Of course the minor inconvenience to herself would be Midnight’s primary concern. “No more than a temporary disruption, my child. Her duties to the crown must take precedence over her duties as thy tutor.” “I see.” Midnight stared at me unblinkingly. “Will you be teaching me yourself, then?” I sighed and shook my head. “I could not always spare the time when I was Vizier, let alone now that I am regent.” “Ah.” My daughter’s moods were hard to read, but in this case her disappointment was plain. “However,” I cut in ere she could lapse into sullen silence, “we have much more important lessons to cover regardless. Thy time with me in court takes precedence o’er magical training, regardless of whether Morning is here or not. ‘Twould be foolish to squander the chance to train thee in the higher arts of leadership.” “So I am to spend the majority of my time every day with you, watching and learning by your example?” Midnight queried. “Precisely.” One of my daughter’s unique smiles appeared. “Very well then, Mother. I shall study most carefully during our lessons.” Shadow smiled and chuckled softly. “Have a care, Sunbeam. You have seen how voraciously she can study when she sets her mind to it. She might learn enough to replace thee someday.” “I should hope so. Is that not the natural order of things?” I scoffed and shook my head. “Unlike our queen, I shall not live eternal. Somepony must carry on my legacy once I am naught but dust.” I gave my daughter an idle pat on the back. “Though if she could eclipse me in time to  uncover what Veritanu seeks, ‘twould be much appreciated.” My daughter nodded gravely, an expression of utmost serious determination on her face. “I shall endeavour to uncover his darkest secrets, Mother.” I should have known Midnight would take my idle remark with utmost seriousness. No matter, so long as she did not get any especially curious notions in her head. “No need for direct action, my child. We have others to see to such matters.” “Indeed we do,” Shadow agreed. “I shall put Gale to the matter at once.” A frown tugged at her lips. “Though there is one matter I did not need my daughter’s insight to spot: the Commander feared that Silver would be offended by her absence. While I expected him to be as sickeningly obsequious as he always is, he seemed all the more eager to have his master visit once he learned that Celestia will not be here to meet him.” I grimaced and nodded. “Aye, he does not seem nearly so perturbed as one would expect. I have dealt with no shortage of lesser officials who were offended to learn that Her Majesty would not hear their claims, yet now a foreign leader seems e’en more eager.” Shadow scowled. “I daresay he sees an opportunity.” “Mayhaps. Conventional wisdom is that any monarchy in the midst of a regency is vulnerable to threats from within and without.” I took a seat, idly tapping the table in front of me. Simple hardwood, not nearly so grand as one would expect from the most powerful mare in Equestria, but far more practical. “I feel I should be offended by the implication that Equestria is weaker under my rule, but how the masses perceive things need not be aligned with reality. And all too often a perception of weakness can create it in fact.” I sighed and shook my head. “While I might be an equally effective or even superior ruler in some regards, Celestia the immortal and powerful alicorn holds a number of advantages o’er Sunbeam the mere mortal magus. Especially given the beliefs of the Golden Path.” Shadow grunted. “Certainly a being that fancies itself a peer to Celestia will see you as its lesser. Which begs the question of what they will do.” Her eyes narrowed. “Dost thou think they would invade Equestria?” I scoffed. “With what? Thou art a better general than I, but e’en I know that Freeport cannot hope to equal our numbers on the battlefield, let alone the time needed to organize, muster, and supply such an invasion force. Especially one that must cross a thousand miles of ocean to reach our shores. Celestia would return well before they could prepare if they started now, and if they had already begun our spies could not have missed it.” “Aye, e’en if they could somehow manage to take territory, they could ne’er hope to hold it.” Shadow paced back and forth across my modest carpets. “Something swifter then, more quickly prepared and with a much more limited objective. A raid, mayhaps? They could find no shortage of plunder and slaves in Manehattan, and leave ere we could muster a full response.” I thought it over. “A raid would make more sense, but still seems a rather large risk compared to the rewards they could expect to reap. I am sure you would insist upon a swift and brutal reprisal at once, and I would firmly agree with you. E’en if Her Majesty wished for a more peaceful solution, which I think unlikely, the two of us would prevail upon her to punish the Golden Path brutally for daring to strike at us.” Shadow nodded grimly. “Aye, but that might be more easily proposed than done. The same ocean that makes it hard for them to invade us would hinder our own reprisal, and both Gryphonia and Zebrica would object to us gaining ground within Freeport and disrupting the balance of power.” “Aye, naturally annexation or setting up a puppet ruler would be unacceptable.” A cold smile worked its way onto my lips. “Sacking the city and burning down the palaces of all their false gods before stringing their corpses up along the docks for the sport of the gulls? That is an entirely reasonable response.” “That would send a most powerful message,” Midnight agreed. “The bodies of the perfidious beings that dared to imagine themselves gods on public display so that none could enter the harbor without first seeing the gruesome fate that would befall all who dare to make an enemy of Equestria. Sailors, pirates, and merchants the world over will tremble when they pass beneath the slowly rotting corpses, watching as the ocean birds gorge themselves upon the slowly rotting flesh of our enemies, and fish swarm beneath them eager to devour the few morsels that slip past the birds’ beaks.” She slowly nodded to herself. “I cannot think of a better message to send to all who would dare strike against us.” Shadow stared at my daughter askance, then shook her head. “Still, there are times she manages to surprise me.” She cleared her throat. “If not an attack, then what could this Veritanu hope to accomplish?” “If we knew the answer to that, this conversation would be over,” I groused. My daughter had been in deep thought judging by the faint grimace she had worn for the last few minutes. My child was eccentric, but I had learned to read most of her odder moods. When she finally spoke, ‘twas plain she had found a solution to whate’er problem vexed her. “Have you not called the gods of the Golden Path abominations, Mother?” “Aye, for that is what they are,” I confirmed. She nodded to herself. “Did not Her Majesty leave to destroy other abominations, namely the Blightspawn of the Northern March? It seems like a rather concerning pattern that abominations are so active of late.” Shadow frowned and shook her head. “It seems far more likely ‘tis merely be coincidence. Not everything is connected. The Blightspawn are little more than wild beasts, a far cry from the false gods of Freeport.” “Aye, collaboration ‘tween the two seems unlikely.” No sooner had I dismissed my daughter’s suggestion than a new possibility emerged. “Although ... the bodies used by the Golden Path’s false gods are plainly unnatural, and Blackfyre is the inventor of such fleshcraft. And he has the intelligence to arrange such a thing and would certainly stand to gain from creating a force like the Golden Path.” I scowled and shook my head. “Though how he could have possibly arranged such a thing when he has been long imprisoned and carefully watched, I cannot imagine.” “Such would strike me as difficult to arrange,” Shadow agreed. “The seeds of the Golden Path were planted centuries ago, and I suspect that if this was some plan of his he would have struck while we were in the midst of a civil war, not three years after ‘twas settled.” “Aye, we were far weaker then.” I sighed and shook my head. “Far more likely the Blightspawn in the North and Freeport’s latest machinations are wholly unrelated.” Despite my confident words, my rest that night would be uneasy. Veritanu arrived a week later. Unusually fast, considering the distance ‘tween Freeport and Canterlot, so the false god was either well en route before telling us of his plans or possessed some means of travelling faster than should be possible. News of his arrival seemed to have preceded him, and the royal court was far more crowded than usual. Small surprise the many nobles, officials, and leeches of Canterlot were eager to lay eyes upon such a mysterious and exotic guest as one of Freeport’s gods. The throne seemed to fit me especially poorly today. Much as I grasped the symbolic importance of occupying the vacant throne, the unavoidable fact was that its normal occupant was a much larger mare. I had yet to find a fully comfortable way to set myself that still looked appropriately dignified. I had been halfway tempted to give in to the lurking absurdity of Canterlot and dress myself in especially massive and elaborate costumes to better fill out the throne. I suspect that e’en if I had, the effect would be somewhat less impressive than desired. As if the idle thought conjured him into being, Silver Tithe strode into the room dressed up in a particularly elaborate and atrocious costume. Whatever tailor was responsible for it ought to be strung up for wasting such valuable materials on such a poorly designed outfit. I was far from an expert in fashion, but I was not blind. ‘Twas plain enough that such asymmetry in jarring colors was unpleasant to look upon. Perched dutifully by the side of the throne, my daughter frowned at him and cocked her head to the side. “His choice of clothing is ... curious.” Judging by the proud smile on his lips, Silver was quite unaware of how much his choice of clothing offended mine eyes. “Regent, always delightful to see you again. Especially on such an auspicious day.” With considerable effort, I managed to compose my face into something resembling a welcoming smile. A regent must play her part in the coming farce. “Ambassador, what causes thee to grace our court once again?” Silver matched my false smile with one that seemed twice as wide and half as genuine. “Regent, it is with considerable delight that I announce the arrival of the great god Lord Veritanu within Canterlot. He will be gracing you all with his presence shortly, and eagerly awaits the chance to resolve this minor misunderstanding that has delayed his efforts to reclaim his rightful property.” He cleared his throat. “I would say more, but I would not dare presume to speak for the gods.” He turned to face the doors, bowing so low that it was all but groveling. All other eyes turned to the doors as they slowly opened, and the fabled Lord Veritanu strode in. The first thing that struck me about the creature was his sheer size, on par with Celestia herself. Unlike her he was a mere pegasus, though the strange transformations wrought upon him included a pair of bull-like horns in imitation of her natural one. The aura of power that surrounded him also felt far less gentle and benevolent than hers, akin to being clubbed o’er the head with his supposed superiority where Celestia rarely let it show. As the false god strode into the hall he let his golden eyes sweep o’er the crowd, a hint of poorly concealed contempt within them. However, a moment later my eyes spotted something far more interesting than the massive false god in his bright white robes and golden armor: several smaller figures, clad in brightly burnished steel plate. Shadow espied them as well, a frown tugging at her lips. “‘Twould seem that some of the wayward Chargers have returned.” “Aye, and in violation of our laws.” The exiles openly wore their clan symbols, banned since the end of the war and the disbandment of their clan. ‘Twas irksome to see our laws flouted, but not worth causing a diplomatic incident o’er. Especially when it might well have been a deliberate provocation on Veritanu’s part. Shadow looked the former traitors o’er, then leaned over for a quick whispered conversation with her daughter. She then dutifully relayed the information Gale had provided her. “Mors leads them. He was a sergeant during the war, but his squad deserted in the later part of the siege. He is one of the more prominent figures within the exiled Chargers.” “I see.” So a deserter rather than an exile? That seemed like information I could make use of, though I was not sure how. Such concerns quickly faded from my mind when Veritanu cleared his throat, sparing an irritated glance for the ponies gathered up at court. Silver stepped forward. “It is customary for mortals to bow in the presence of a god.” I restrained the urge to utter the first half-dozen less than diplomatic responses that sprang to mind. “Freeport’s customs are not ours. We did not intend to show your master less respect than was his due.” Silver smiled hopefully, looking around the room. Apparently he thought that everyone would start bowing now that he had explained the rules. He was wrong. Once it was clear none of the ponies would bow to his abomination he sighed and shook his head. “You make me sad.” Veritanu finally spoke, his voice a deep rumble that sent shivers down my spine. “Do not judge them too harshly, Silver. They are like children, left uneducated by their own goddess. Perhaps in time they will learn.” Mayhaps I had gone too far in diplomacy. Celestia would ask me to seek peace, but I would not stoop to accepting insults to myself or Equestria. “I assure you, our education is quite sufficient on when to and not to bow. There is only one pony in Equestria that we bow to, and you are not her. You are guests in Equestria, and we ask that you respect our ways.” Veritanu’s eyes fixed themselves upon me as he slowly marched towards the throne. “You say that you only bow to one pony. Very well; I am no mere pony. Thou shouldst acknowledge thy betters and show them the respect they deserve.” I refused to give an inch. “Indeed I should, and will do so when I meet them.” For a moment I wondered if the false god would opt for a confrontation then and there, but Silver hastily stepped forward with an insincere smile and a nervous chuckle. “I am sure we can excuse a few minor lapses in protocol in the name of diplomacy. No insults were intended.” The corners of my mouth twitched up into a smile as false as Silver’s and as pleasant to look upon as my daughter’s. “Aye, we both wish for friendly relations between our respective nations. I see no reason to sour this meeting o’er a minor point of protocol.” Veritanu took another step forward, so he was halfway onto the dais and physically towering o’er me. Doubtless he expected his sheer physical presence to make me flinch. If he thought that would work, he plainly had not done any research on the mare he faced. When I refused to back down he snorted softly. “Quite. There is no need for discord here. I expect my property returned, and a full apology. Grant me that, and the matter will be settled.” Tempting as it might be to push back and send the false god home with nothing, Shadow and I had decided on a different course. Celestia’s desire for peace at any reasonable cost was often irksome, but as her regent I should carry out here will. “Your ship and any property not seized as contraband will be returned to you once any outstanding fines and fees are paid. Hopefully this will resolve the misunderstanding between our nations.” Veritanu scowled down at me. “You hold my rightful property to ransom, refuse to return all that is mine e’en if I should pay, and offer no apology?” I sat up as straight as I could within Celestia’s o’ersized throne. “Your ship’s captain violated our laws by smuggling contraband goods into one of our ports. I would be within my rights to have the ship and all its cargo seized and auctioned off to the highest bidder. Your agents violated our laws. If there is anyone here who should apologize...” “Gods do not apologize to mere mortals.” Veritanu growled. “Nor are they subject to the laws that bind those beneath them.” I smirked. “Not e’en the laws made by another deity? You do refer to Queen Celestia as such, so I would think you would respect her laws. I assure you, our current customs regulations were signed law by Her Majesty.” Veritanu’s voice dropped down to a dangerous whisper. “Thou art insolent. ‘Tis a wonder thy goddess does not smite thee for it.” I shrugged. “She seems to find it quite charming, else she would not have named me as her regent. Do not think that I will bend to your will just because I am mortal.” Veritanu snorted, and his voice returned to its full volume. “So there is no confusion on the matter, do you refuse to return what is rightfully mine, or to apologize for the theft of divine property carried out by Equestria’s agents?” I cast a quick spell, granting myself just a touch of the Traditional Royal Canterlot Voice to make my point all the stronger. “As I said, once our investigation is finished and any outstanding fines or fees are paid your property will be returned.” I could not resist the urge to sink in one final barb. “But as a reportedly omniscient god, I am sure you already know that.” Veritanu’s head snapped back in shock. ‘Twould seem the false god who demanded slavish obedience from his slaves was not accustomed to being disrespected. “This is not over. You will regret your insolence.” He whirled on the spot, storming toward the exit before Silver could even try to come up with some new attempt to slime his way into our good graces. As the abomination fled, I murmured one last parting shot at his back. “We will see who regrets their actions this day, beast that thinks itself a god.” That evening Shadow asked me to join her at her clan’s compound, with utmost discretion. I drew the natural conclusions any mare would from such a request, and devoted some time to my appearance while providing Midnight with a new book to ensure she would be suitably occupied for the rest of the evening. I left instructions with the castle staff to ensure she would be properly prepared to join me at Court in the morning. Hopefully they would not let her indulge too many of her odd impulses in the realms of fashion. While my daughter’s eccentricities were hardly a secret, it would not do to have them on public display for all Canterlot to gawk at. The journey to the Kicker Clan compound was simple enough. A few spells sufficed to mask my presence from any curious passers-by who might wonder what the Regent was doing out at such a late hour. Not that Shadow and I had e’er gone to great pains to hide our occasional liaisons, but we both exercised the reasonable degree of discretion expected from mares of our age and standing. We were hardly a pair of young fools who could go gallivanting about in public. While passing through Canterlot itself unnoticed was relatively simple, the Kicker clan compound was another matter. Not that my spells were incapable of fooling many of their number, but alert soldiers were far harder targets and there were trained warlock hunters within the clan. If they saw a figure skulking about under heavy magical concealment they might well assume ‘twas something far more dangerous than a mare seeking a night’s pleasure. Thus, I restricted myself to simpler, less concealing spells. Any guards skilled enough to pierce such illusions would quickly grasp my intentions and set about willfully blinding themselves far more effectively than any spell I could manage. Soon enough I arrived at the entrance to Shadow’s private quarters. There were no guards outside her door; obviously they had already been dismissed in the interest of discretion. Pity I could not simply translocate myself into her quarters, but she had not built a fire for the night. E’en if she had, after how disastrously my first teleportation into her private quarters had ended I saw no reason to repeat the experience. Far safer to simply walk up and knock on her front door. Shadow opened it a moment later, quickly ushering me in. “Good, thou didst receive my message. Gale will have...” She trailed off uncertainly as I shed my travel cloak to let her have a look at mine efforts. I had certainly gone to no small trouble to appear appropriately ravishing for the occasion, so it only seemed appropriate to ask her to admire mine efforts. Shadow stared at me for several seconds, then coughed and cleared her throat. I had the rare treat of seeing her cheeks flush, and a hint of awkward embarrassing slip into her stance. “It ... would seem there was a miscommunication about the nature of this meeting.” I turned to her with a raised eyebrow. “It seemed quite clear to me. ‘Meet me in my private quarters tonight. Employ utmost discretion.’ What meaning didst thou expect thy lover would take from such a message?” Shadow remained silent for several seconds ere she answered. “In hindsight, perhaps I failed to include some necessary details.” “Clearly.” I crossed my forelegs o’er my chest and glowered at her. My erstwhile lover had already seemed quite chastened, but not enough for my liking. Once my displeasure had been suitably conveyed, I moved on. “Why am I here then?” Shadow seemed entirely too eager to move on from her blunder. “Gale arranged a meeting with an important information source regarding Veritanu’s arrival in Canterlot, and his likely intentions and desires.” “Ah.” I briefly considered mine own appearance in the mirror. “I am not dressed appropriately for such a meeting.” I breezed past her, deeper into her quarters. “Thankfully, I thought ahead and prepared for such eventualities. I do hope thou wert not so foolish as to remove my materials from thy washroom.” “And risk thy wrath for doing so?” Shadow shot back dryly. “I have already earned enough of thine ire as it stands.” “Too right thou hast.” I stepped into the washroom and quickly set to correcting my appearance, once more becoming The Regent rather than a mare prepared for a far more relaxing and pleasurable evening. Shadow wisely left me to work, save for finding an old dress I had left behind on a prior evening and laying it out for me. Had she done more I likely would have vented my ire at her. Not that her absence made me any happier, but absent a target to unleash my anger against it gradually faded away as more important matters took the fore. Though she was a fool if she thought the matter entirely forgotten just because ‘twas no longer at the forefront of my mind. Thankfully, I had succeeded in making myself reasonably presentable by the time Shadow’s daughter arrived with her guest. Much like myself the guest had come hooded and cloaked, though doubtless they had far different expectations on how this meeting would go. Gale’s eyes quickly flicked o’er to me, and she nodded slightly. “Good, we are all here. Our guest would prefer to have this done as quickly as possible.” The stranger threw back his hood and dropped the cloak, revealing himself as Mors Charger. “Aye, the longer I am absent gone, more likely my presence will be missed. Not that Veritanu watches me that closely, but if he should learn of this meeting...” “‘Twould likely be thy death,” I agreed. I looked him o’er, trying to take his measure. A grizzled, one-eyed soldier who was likely of an age with myself or Shadow, but looked a good decade older. Doubtless a result of a far less healthy lifestyle. “Which begs the question of why thou art here to begin with. I would have thought thy god would have thee at his side to worship him, or whatever it is Veritanu needs from thee.” Mors shrugged. “I suspect the only reason we are here is to ruffle some feathers by virtue of being clan members in Canterlot. He could have picked far more prestigious honor guards, but none that would upset the powers that be quite as much as we would.” He snorted and shook his head. “Though I was but a bondspony anyway, hardly true clan.” He nodded to Shadow and Gale by way of contrast. “Bondsponies are sworn to the clan and bear the name, but are not full members of the clan,” Gale explained for my benefit, though I had already gathered as much from prior discussions on clan structure. “Curious that the exiles chose thee for a leader.” “Some of the old ways are not quite as valued as they once were,” Mors answered. “Evidently they prefer me to any of the true clan who joined us.” I snorted and shook my head. “If Veritanu thinks a few Chargers will be enough to distract me, regardless of their place in the old clan hierarchy, he was greatly mistaken.” Mors moved over to one of Shadow’s seats and made himself comfortable. “Aye, ‘tis naught but a bit of petty needling. You no doubt noticed he enjoys such displays of power.” “So we did,” Shadow agreed. “Let us not waste time on idle pleasantries. Why art thou here?” Mors shrugged. “Your daughter did give me a very nice bag full of bits.” I frowned. “So thou hast been bought? Small surprise for a mercenary.” I had always been of two minds when it came to mercenaries. On the one hoof, their motivation and desire was refreshingly simple and straightforward. However, a soldier whose loyalty I could buy could just as easily be bought by one of mine enemies. “I prefer to think of it as more rented than bought,” Mors answered with a dry smile that tugged at the scar lines radiating from his missing eye. “Though 'twould be more accurate to say I found a way to be paid for what I already intended to do. Namely, inform you of Veritanu's intentions.” That was a curious response. “So quick to betray thy master?” “My master?” Mors snorted and shook his head. “Just another client, and not one I am especially fond of. Not that I have found many of those.” Small surprise the false god had not earned his loyalty. Howe’er... “Why should I trust thy words? Thou wouldst not be the first to come to me in the shadows of night claiming to have valuable information for me. This could just as easily be a ruse on thy client’s behalf, or merely a petty scheme to take a few bits from us and offer nothing of true value in return. Those who were once of the clans have no shortage of reasons to hate Equestria.” Mors looked between myself and Shadow, the snorted. “Aye, true enough. I cannot say I care for either of you. The two of you lead the conquest of Pegasopolis and sundering of all the clans save two. No doubt the both of you have the blood of my kin on your hooves. ‘Twould be no surprise if I sought revenge. If nought else, I owe some earth pony guerilla a debt for this.” He tapped at his empty eye socket. He fell silent for a long moment, then scoffed and shook his head. “But the clans brought their doom upon themselves; the two of you merely finished off the last rotting remnants. I did not choose exile rather than live in a clanless Equestria. I deserted the rebel army well before the war’s end, when my clan fell under the sway of an abomination who named warlocks as her close advisors. Mayhaps I could have gone into the swamp like the Stalkers, or tried to slip through the siege lines like some of my high-clan kin. But then, I was in a field hospital in Manehattan recovering from losing an eye when it all went mad. And ... I had no desire to fight ‘gainst mine own, e’en if I could no longer believe in their cause. Far better to simply ... exit.” “A better reason than most give for desertion,” I murmured. “Though I can hardly fault thee for thy choice when ‘twas to my benefit. Thou hast more sense than many of thine kin. If there had been more wisdom in those days Pegasopolis might still be standing.” “Wiser ponies would have found a way not to fight a war in the first place,” Mors answered. “But to answer thy question, I cannot say I like any of you. Or e'en that I do not have many good reasons to hate you. But old hates no longer burn so hot in my heart, and Veritanu ... let us say that a few years of life in Freeport has given me cause to dislike the current masters of the city e'en more.” ‘Twould be a lie to say I was not curious. “What occurs in Freeport that so disquiets thee? Mors grimaced. “You know Veritanu and the rest of Freeport’s gods are not natural creatures. Their existence requires ... sustenance.” “Illuminate me.” I had heard no shortage of rumors, gossip, and implausibly lurid tales about what passed in Freeport. Reliable first-hoof accounts from those who had spent time in the company of one of the false gods were far harder to come across. “E’en in Freeport we cannot say for certain,” Mors confessed. “Or at least, they make an effort to hide it. You know the Golden Path began as a religious movement to bring justice to Freeport, and their false gods were supposed to be spirits of pure justice. Doubtless they thought it poetic to feed their new gods with the blood and souls of the worst criminals in Freeport. Now ... suffice to say Freeport’s prisons are frequently empty, and anyone arrested for any significant crime is ne’er seen again.” Shadow scowled as the picture came into focus, and mine own expression doubtless mirrored hers. I put my thoughts into words that would make the right impression on Mors. “We all have blood on our hooves, but I have always made a point of ne’er shedding it unless ‘twas needed. Few things are less necessary than the existence of Freeport’s false gods.” I rose to my hooves, pacing about. “So 'tis blood magic that sustains them. Not that I can say I am surprised. Blood is a potent source of magic, and one many abominations partake of.” “So I have heard.” Mors frowned. “Which is no small part of why I came here to warn you about Veritanu. In case you have not already guessed, his intentions here are less than honest. Veritanu's star has been fading amongst the gods of Freeport since he picked the wrong side in a few power struggles. He needs a quick victory to boost his standing, and he seems to think that an Equestria with no Celestia to defend it is his best hope.” Ah. I should have known. Most foreign policies are ultimately the result of internal pressures. Our recent disagreement with Gryphonia sprang to mind, born in no small part out of growing tension ‘tween the Ephorate and Her Majesty. Or in this case a leader whose power and influence were fading, and so he opted for one of the most common maneuvers any tyrant seeks to build up their reputation: a victory o’er another nation. None would think a conqueror weak. At least now I knew something; what Veritanu wanted. A small thing, but ‘twas the first part of unraveling the puzzle for how to destroy him. “So he seeks the prestige of a foreign victory. But what sort of a victory?” “He aims to force you to give him back his ship and apologize. The how of it...” Mors shrugged. “He does not trust me enough to reveal all his secrets.” “It seems rather petty stakes,” Gale opined. “A single trade ship with a few smuggled goods is hardly the sort of prize that would strike terror into the hearts of his enemies.” “Because ‘tis not the ship itself he seeks,” I told her. “It is the act of us returning the ship. He wants all his rivals to see him go to Equestria, demand something of us, and then we publicly comply with him.” Shadow nodded grimly. “He doubtless calculated the stakes carefully. We did say that any grand attack on Equestria would inevitably result in retribution from Celestia upon her return. A single smuggling ship being returned to its owner? I am sure there have been leaders willing to start wars o’er such thing, but the Commander is not one of them.” “Does he think we will bow to him because his demands are relatively petty?” I snorted and pawed at the floor. “If he thinks I will do such a thing, he does not grasp who he is dealing with. He thinks Equestria under my command weak and vulnerable, that we will cave to his demands without our so-called goddess here to hold our hooves? Neigh, if anything our resolve is far stronger in her absence.” Mors chuckled. “It seems your reputation was not exaggerated, Regent. Pity Veritanu does not seem to care about such facts. He sees you as naught but another mortal to be swept aside by his divine power. Though I would still be wary, since you defied him earlier I expect he intends to put you in a position where saying no would be difficult.” “But of course he will.” After all that Mors had told us I hardly expected him to back down. To do so at this point would just damage his already tattered reputation e’en further. “The question is how. Currently he has nothing to bargain with and no way to force me to comply with his will.” Shadow’s countenance darkened. “Doubtless he intends to change that.” “He can try,” I growled. “And regret it for the rest of his short existence.” Mors frowned at me. “Can you kill him?” I grinned, a part of me almost looking forward to what would come. “I have had a great many enemies whose deaths I decided upon. Not a short list, and one that includes such notables as the Avatar of Nightmare Moon. None of those enemies currently draw breath. If Veritanu joins that list, he can share their fate.” > The Golden Path 4 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- To her credit, Shadow made good on the impression she’d mistakenly given me as to what the evening’s activities would entail. ‘Twas enough that I was more than willing to forgive her for the lapse. At least, until such time as I could gain some advantage by reminding her of it. Just because I had forgiven her did not mean I needed to forget the wrong or surrender any chance of gaining recompense for it. Howe’er, such concerns were for another time. For now, I was quite comfortably settled ‘gainst Shadow, enjoying her presence. Though I tried not to allow myself to be distracted by shallow physical qualities, ‘twould be a lie to say I did not find her rather muscular frame ... invigorating. Though in her case ‘twas helped by an engaging personality and sharp mind; a good body with nothing more is useful for naught more than passing pleasures. I rolled slightly to the side to find a way to settle myself more comfortably, and spotted a pair of all-too-familiar eyes watching us from the darkness. I sighed, closed my eyes, and a took a slow, calming breath. “Midnight, did I not provide thee with a book to entertain thee until my return in the morning?” My daughter nodded dutifully. “Aye, you did.” She held her copy of Meditations on an Ethical Framework for Good Governance. “I have finished it and now have questions. Per your standing rules regarding such matters, my inquiries are indeed of both utmost urgency and importance.” Past experience taught me that my daughter’s definitions of those terms would differ considerably from mine own. Rather than attempt to explain that to her, I opted for a different tactic. “Midnight, what have we established about when thou canst enter my room late at night?” “Only when there is an emergency,” she promptly recited. “Such as warlocks bashing down our door, intent on slaying you with vile magics, leaving your body a charred corpse and to take me away for foul sacrifices in the dead of night so that they might summon some dark god with which to terrorize Equestria.” Ah, progress. Pity I knew ‘twould be fleeting. Otherwise I would not be having this conversation with her. “And is this such a situation, my child?” “Neigh.” She started at me unblinkingly. “Howe’er, this is not your bedroom. It is Lady Protector Shadow’s bedroom. Surely you were aware of this?” I let out a resigned sigh. Of course. In hindsight, I should have realized that Midnight would spot and exploit such a loophole. “In the future, observe that rule regardless of where I might take my sleep. Now, what didst thou wish to ask?” Our conversation must have been loud enough to stir Shadow, as she rolled o’er with an irritable grumble. She opened her eyes and immediately spotted Midnight. “Ah.” That single word spoke volumes. Plainly she was all too familiar with my daughter’s late-night curiosity and utter failure to grasp that ponies did not like to be disturbed in the wee hours of the morning. “I see Lady Protector Shadow is awake as well. Good, a second perspective is always valuable.” She held up the tome. “This book says that the best rule is by a benevolent absolute ruler. In the past, you said that the primary purpose of most forms of government is to arrange for a peaceful transition between rulers. How then do we ensure that the absolute rulers would always be both benevolent and competent?” “Our current commander does make those matters rather less of a concern,” Shadow pointed out. “An immortal need not worry about transferring power.” “That is indeed so,” Midnight conceded, “but is Princess Celestia not an anomaly? No other nation in all the world is ruled by one such as her. Argentium may be immortal, but she is more of a grey eminence ruling o’er a loose confederation. Other immortal rulers such as the Golden Path or Chrysalis of the Changeling Hive would hardly qualify as benevolent under e’en the most generous definition of the term. And of course, the problem of succession still weighs o’er every mortal regime.” “So it does,” I agreed. “The false gods of Freeport were doubtless conjured in an effort to replicate the success Equestria has found under Celestia’s rule.” “Though we say the effort failed, was the Golden Path so wrong to seek a ruler like Her Highness?” Midnight pressed. “If the best ruled nations are ones ruled by an all powerful benevolent ruler such as suggested here, then is it not logical for all nations of the world to seek to create such beings?” “Perhaps,” I allowed. “But the false gods of the Golden Path are not benevolent, and most of their power is wasted when they scheme against one another. Regardless of intent, they are a failed experiment. Not only that, they expose the most obvious flaw in rule by immortals: the threat of stagnation. If the Golden Path were mortal, they would pass on and a new generation would take charge. Instead they linger on, fighting the same internal struggles for centuries.” Though I was not foolish enough to say it, ‘twas hard not to also think of Her Majesty. While she might have eventually shaken off the lethargic melancholy that had once consumed her, she had remained within its grasp for longer than the lifespan of any mortal pony. If not for the war and the Avatar of Nightmare Moon, she might ne’er have shaken it off. Immortal rule preserved the ruler’s virtues, but also their flaws. Shadow spoke, her tone making it plain she wanted nothing more than an end to the conversation and a return to her rest. “I am glad we could answer thy question, Midnight. I shall have one of my guards escort thee back to the tower.” My daughter either failed to grasp the meaning behind Shadow’s tone or was simply so caught up in her curiosity that she did not care. She can be somewhat oblivious to the moods of others, but she is no fool. And damnably stubborn when in one of her curious moods. “So their error is that they failed, not that their goals are wrong?” Much as I would prefer an end to the conversation, I had to correct her. “Their error was in thinking they could not find the answers on their own—that they needed some higher being to decide such matters for them. While Celestia rules us well and ably, ponykind is entirely capable of surviving her absence. Her Majesty has been gone for weeks, and we continue on much as we did when she o’ersaw us. We do not desperately scramble about, vainly seeking new immortals to replace her. Equestria benefits immensely from her, but we existed ere she was born, and shall continue after e’en she is gone.” My daughter frowned, cocking her head to the side as she considered this. “So you think Freeport was wrong to make their false gods, e’en while you acknowledge that there are advantages to immortal rule?” “Aye.” I felt my drowsiness fade away as my mind awoke to challenge before it. “Celestia is a queen. She guides us, and rules us, but she does not claim to be all-knowing. Gods tell their followers what to think. Celestia gives us freedom to decide for ourselves. Rather than seek higher beings to tell them the truth, the Golden Path should have found their own answer. Much as thou shouldst do, child.” Shadow nodded approvingly. “Aye, consider all that we have told thee. Any further answers we might provide would deprive thee of the chance to find them for thyself.” My daughter frowned and shook her head stubbornly. “But I still have many questions that are in need of answers. How will I know the correct ones?” Shadow sighed and rose from bed, using one of her wings to gently usher Midnight towards the door. “I have every confidence thou wilt be able to uncover the truth.” “And by finding them thyself, thou wilt grow wiser,” I added, opening the door so that she could hasten my daughter’s departure. My daughter planted her hooves, passively struggling against Shadow’s efforts to remove her. “But what method should I use to uncover these great philosophical truths? Surely ‘twill be more effective if there are others I might discuss my ideas with? Mayhaps I could return in an hour’s time to share my conclusions with both you?” Shadow and I shared a look, and she relented, temporarily releasing Midnight. “I will see if Gale can spare some time to discuss this with thee.” Midnight paused, frowning thoughtfully. “You are certain ‘twould not be too much trouble? I would not wish to disturb her so late at night.” Shadow shot an exasperated look my way, no doubt sharing my silent incredulity that she thought nothing of disturbing the both of us yet hesitated to intrude upon Gale. I swear my child goes out of her way to find ways to vex me. She is of an age where such behavior is far from uncommon. If her goal was to vex us, then Midnight’s next question proved quite suited to the task. “I have a question on a different matter: you two share the same bed, but why do you not live under the same roof as most ponies who do so? The two of you have engaged in coitus for some time. Would it not be expected that you might wed?” Shadow froze at the question, then displayed the rare sort of courage and leadership that had allowed her to guide the city through a long and brutal siege. Or rather, that is what she should have done. Instead she departed the room with unseemly haste to retrieve her daughter, leaving me to face Midnight alone. Clearly courage on the battlefield did not translate into all other areas. Though mayhaps I should not judge her too harshly. I would be happy to let her field the question while I occupied myself elsewhere. I sighed and did my best to answer her. “Because Shadow must be with her clan, and I must be in my tower. We both have many responsibilities that would preclude such.” Midnight frowned. “Why? Clan heads are normally expected to marry to continue the family line, and the great majority of Archmagi and Grand Viziers have been married. Surely thy ranks would not be an impediment.” Vexingly, she was not wrong. Rank was naught but a convenient excuse. The truth, as it often is, was far more complicated. For one, there was the matter of Shadow’s son, Ash. The boy might be mine, but I could hardly be certain of that. He must have been conceived late in the war, at a time when I had bedded her but had no reason not to expect that she had other lovers. And if he were mine, she doubtless would have told me as much. ‘Twas entirely possible one of the other rumors was true: that he was the get of Rightly Doo in some final tryst, or simply the son of some unnotable stallion she took into her bed for a night’s pleasure. Or mayhaps ... Shadow had o’ernighted with Her Majesty. I had ne’er found any proof that the two of them were lovers, but I knew from personal experience that Shadow could be discreet. ‘Twas hardly unusual for the lady protector to be in conference with Her Majesty late into the night, and it might be entirely innocent. Or it might not. The thought of asking Shadow to wed, only to be rejected and told that she preferred Her Majesty to me ... neigh, that would not stand. Howe’er, I could hardly say such things to my daughter, especially when Shadow might well o’erhear them. Fortunately, Gale arrived along with her mother to put an end to my daughter’s curiosity. “More late night inquiries, Midnight?” Midnight nodded, holding up her book for Gale’s consideration. “Yes. I have many questions. The philosophy books Mother gave me provide a great many matters demanding deep thought, but give me vexingly few answers. To make matters worse, they often contradict one another. I devote considerable time and effort to understanding one author, only to immediately read that the author is a fool and his ideas wrong-headed in my next book. ‘Tis most vexing.” “I see.” Gale smiled down at her. “Well, perhaps we could discuss the matter with one another and find clarity.” Midnight frowned. “Neigh, I would not wish to disturb thee from thy rest.” Once more I was vexed that Gale was the only one she showed such consideration. “‘Tis no trouble at all,” Gale assured her after receiving a pointed look from Shadow. “In truth, I was already awake seeing to Ash. A bit of sophisticated conversation would be most welcome after my brother’s rather more limited vocabulary. He is of an age where he is most eager to speak but has not yet grasped how to do so properly.” Midnight cocked her head to the side. “I see. Then I would be happy to assist thee with deeper conversation.” She dutifully trotted o’er to Gale’s side, letting Shadow’s daughter shepherd her away from the both of us. I let out a relieved sigh once she was safely out of earshot. “I must remember to employ an expert to write a truly exhaustive list of rules. My daughter is entirely too skilled at finding gaps through which she can pester me with her endless curiosity.” Shadow grinned and lightly prodded me with a wingtip. “I believe that is a trait she inherited from thee, my love. Certainly there has been a time or two when thou didst find most creative interpretations of the Commander’s orders.” I found those words entirely too vexing, and feared I knew the reason they affected me so. “‘Tis entirely too likely thou art right.” “In a way, ‘tis instructive,” Shadow pointed out. “In her, thou canst see some of the qualities that others might see in thee. For all that thou might complain of her endless questions on morals and philosophy, I recall that thou wert always eager to discuss those topics with me.” “The situations are hardly comparable,” I groused. For a moment I was tempted to vent a small portion of wrath upon Shadow, but such would be foolish. I was master o’er my emotions, and in any case ‘twould be far more productive to address the true cause of my ire. “I take it thou heard her last question?” “Aye,” Shadow confirmed, grimacing. “She is rather damnably good at asking awkward questions, is she not?” “Another trait she likely inherited from me,” I conceded. “Doubtless so.” Shadow sighed and walked o’er to the window, staring out o’er the moonlit city. “And 'tis a fair question to ask, especially for a child her age. I fancy I am already all but a second mother to her in some ways. ‘Tis hardly surprising she might seek to have that status codified, especially given her nature.” “Aye, Midnight would be far more at ease with a written declaration than she would an unspoken agreement.” One of the things my daughter and I did not share in common, I could grasp certain subtleties that eluded her. “And in truth, ‘tis a question that is rather difficult to answer in a way she will find satisfying. Though I have pondered at it for a time.” Shadow nodded slowly. “I would be lying if the thought had not crossed my mind as well. We have been ... companionable for some time. I enjoy thy company.” Neither of us said anything more for some time. Considering the circumstances, I would hardly put my heart and pride out in the open for her to crush. I suspect she feared to do the same for me. Or mayhaps she had other reasons not to make the offer. Mayhaps she preferred silence to finding a diplomatic way to reject me. If she did enjoy Her Majesty’s favor in the bedchamber, how could I e’er hope to compare? As with the regency, I was merely a passable but inferior substitute for Celestia when she was not present. Shadow finally broke the silence. “Is that something thou wouldst like to see happen?” Ah. that was a considerably loaded question. One I had no intention of risking a direct answer to. Far safer to let her answer first, and then respond once I had gauged where her own feelings on the matter were. I would sooner die than suffer the humiliation of her rejecting me while clumsily trying to spare my feelings. “I suspect 'twould be very complicated.” A faint frown flickered across Shadow’s face, though I was uncertain what she meant by it. “Yes, I suppose 'twould be. Not that courtship is e’er an easy matter. Gale has certainly gone to no shortage of trouble with Dusk, though I can hardly fault her for her mixed feelings regarding the stallion.” “Yes, quite.” Small surprise her courtship with the turncoat had been tempestuous. Doubtless they would wed eventually, but she seemed in no hurry to do so. Shadow nodded slowly. “There are also political considerations. The Commander values us for our contrasting opinions and conflicting arguments. Were we partners, that would doubtless become slightly more troublesome.” She shot a dry look my way. “Not that I doubt thou wouldst be any less contentious with thy spouse, but ‘twould be a complication nonetheless.” “Aye, undeniably so.” We hardly needed the distraction of wondering if there were any deeper meaning behind whether or not we shared a bed after a contentious political argument. “Making an official partnership would also doubtless stir our enemies. The appearance that we contend with and counterbalance one another would shatter if we wed.” Not that I expected either of us to alter our opinions merely to accommodate our spouse, but perception need not align with reality. Shadow nodded gravely. “Aye, no small consideration. There are already those who feel that thou hast too much power and influence by holding the posts of Archmagus and Grand Vizier. Doubtless they will frame any wedding as thee acquiring power o’er me as well.” “Or the inverse,” I pointed out. “There are those who feel that the Lady Protector holds too many powers traditionally reserved for the nobility. Now thou wilt not only hold influence o’er the most influential noble post in the realm, but can e’en intrude into the private affairs of the magi. Not that thou wert without influence before, but ‘tis a matter of degrees.” “Aye, as it stands I can only order them in military matters,” Shadow agreed. “And e’en then, I would not intrude into thy sphere without at least consulting thee if at all possible. Mine enemies would doubtless claim I intend to use thee to meddle in strictly internal affairs of policy, rather than restrict myself to my proper place.” “Just so,” I confirmed. “And so a wedding would be more trouble than ‘tis worth. Fortunately, I have plans in place to secure our legacy for generations to come.” Shadow regarded me with a raised eyebrow. “Is that so? Thou art ambitious.” I answered her with a dry smile. “Surely this is no surprise to thee. I should think thou wouldst be more stunned were I not ambitious and driven.” “Aye, ‘tis more the scope of it that intrigues me.” A frown tugged at her lips as she untangled my political plans. For a mare who claimed to disdain politics, she performed quite well at them. “No doubt thou wouldst have young Midnight inherit all thou canst give her, as I will give what I can to my children. Then if I am fortunate, the Equestria I give to them will be better for my time as lady protector.” Her eyes lingered upon me. “But I suspect thou hast more in mind than simply providing for thy daughter to inherit all thou hast built.” “Aye, what I have achieved thus far is only the beginning of my true plans,” I agreed. “For all that I have achieved, there is much yet that remains undone. I think reshaping Equestria to match my vision is a task of such magnitude that ‘tis beyond a single mortal lifetime. ‘Tis only prudent to ensure that if I cannot see to its completion, others finish the task.” “Thou wouldst ask thy children to carry on thy work then? That is no small burden to place upon them.” A hint of disapproval entered her voice and expression. “Especially when thou hast not even recognized one of them.” Ah, this old discussion. “I fully intend to recognize Daylight when the time is right. The magi would never stand for both my children gaining Archmagus posts. Already they resent that I used the war to fill the vacancies with sensible and capable ponies rather than cater to their whims. The next conclave is sure to be contentious, and Daylight will face an uphill battle in securing his post. Were he my acknowledged child ... impossible. He would ne’er gain the post he deserves.” “Be that as it may,” Shadow maintained stubbornly, “he is thy son. He deserves to know his mother, regardless of political considerations.” “And he will, when the time is right.” I had considered sharing the truth with him privately, but that seemed a needless risk. ‘Tis well known that secrets become less secure the more they are shared, and ‘twas dangerous enough with only myself, Shadow, and a few ponies from the Order of Sol Invictus knowing the truth. Doubtless Shadow would also say I should tell his father, but e’en were I inclined to do so, I could not say with certainty who that might be. In my youth I had been quick to use the advantages of being a comely mare, and the world has ne’er been short of those eager to whisper secrets in the ears of e’en a temporary lover. Daylight had simply been the product of one such liaison, one I had been quick to put to good use. A part of me regretted not having the opportunity to raise him as I had Midnight, but circumstances had changed considerably in the decade between their respective births. Shadow pointedly cleared her throat. “The Commander will doubtless offer thee some manner of boon if she is pleased with thy performance as Regent. If you cannot recognize Daylight on his own merits, ‘twould not be unreasonable to ask that she grant him some other favor. He has certainly earned some reward for his work in the war.” “That does merit consideration,” I allowed. I thought upon it for a moment, then shrugged. “No point in lingering upon such possibilities. If Her Majesty feels I have earned such a boon, then I can decide upon what ‘twill be.” Shadow regarded me with a raised eyebrow. “Is a boon thy heart’s desire in all of this?” “Hardly.” My heart desired many things, most of which were quite frivolous. Which is why I rarely listened to it. “But if I should receive one then why not make the most of it? Howe'er, such is a matter for the future. We have more immediate concerns.” “That we do,” Shadow agreed, looking me o’er as a smile grew upon her lips. “I have little desire to discuss politics and the future. Especially when we could instead focus upon present matters. We are both awake, and enough so that returning to rest does not yet appeal. Though we could hardly leave the bedchamber at this late hour...” ‘Twas hard to guess what she was driving at. I smiled, slowly dragging a hoof along her wing. “Well, perhaps we could enjoy ourselves by returning to bed?” Shadow let out a low, approving rumble. Then she moved with her customary directness, picking me up and carrying me back to the bed. “A finer idea was ne’er spoken.” She promptly set to work proving the merit of my suggestion. Alas, such idle pleasures could not endure forever. Eventually, Regent Sunbeam had to sit upon her damnably uncomfortable throne once more, enduring all the unpleasantness of leadership with relatively few of its joys. Still, I had chosen my duty and I would execute it well. ‘Twas a matter of pride, if naught else. When the history books wrote of my regency, they would say that I ruled well and ably, not that I was a self-serving fool. Shadow stood at my side, as a Lady Protector should. My earlier maudlin ponderance on the prospect of marriage seemed rather foolish in light of that. Who cared if we went through an unimportant bit of ceremony to add slightly more societal weight to our romantic endeavours? She was my partner in a far more important sense. The mare would stand at my side and support me so long as I was true to her commander. As I would ne’er betray Her Majesty, that made Shadow my partner in far more meaningful ways than mere marriage. Once I had finished resolving a relatively minor property dispute, we moved on to the next item on the royal agenda. Judging by the grimace on Shadow’s face, I could guess what ‘twould be e’en before she forewarned me. “Silver Tithe has requested a private audience. Without his god this time.” “Small favors,” I murmured. “Though no doubt he carries a message from his master.” I cleared my throat and addressed the court properly. “The throne will grant ambassador Silver Tithe of the Golden Path a private audience at this time.” Much as I would have loved to turn the unctuous little slime out on his ear, a regent does not have the luxury of such things. Once the Royal Guards finished clearing the gallery Silver strode in, wearing a smile far too wide and welcoming to be genuine. As was his custom, the ambassador had done himself up with an appropriately elaborate and preposterous costume. His attempt to be charming made my skin crawl. “Regent Sunbeam! Such a delight to see you again.” Considering who I was speaking with, it seemed all too appropriate to welcome him with a false smile of mine own. “The pleasure is all mine. What causes thee to grace the court with thy presence once more?” Silver smiled and waved forward one of his Charger guards, who bore some mysterious covered item. Shadow frowned suspiciously, but I waved her down and let the ambassador speak. “I know the meeting with Lord Veritanu was ... perhaps not entirely as productive as we would have liked. I wanted to make sure there were no hard feelings, and perhaps present you with a small token of our esteem to ensure that all is well.” Ah, so he was resorting to bribery then? Well, if he thought a few baubles would be enough to persuade me to give his master back his ship, he was sorely mistaken. Pity ‘twould not be diplomatic to call the bribe what it was. “I assure thee, relations between Equestria and Freeport have not been damaged. They are no worse than they have e’er been.” Silver let out a melodramatic sigh, then beamed at me as if I had told him he had just been awarded a million bits. “Such a relief! You no doubt know that I want nothing more than for Freeport and Equestria to enjoy peaceful and harmonious relations.” For a moment, I suspected he would immediately press me about the ship once more, but evidently he knew ‘twould only irritate me. “Still, I hope the gift I prepared for you is pleasing.” The more Silver insisted upon giving me this present, the more concerned I became. When it came to diplomacy, there was no such thing as a freely given gift. Silver stood to gain something from this, whether ‘twas simply a blatant attempt at bribery or he had a subtler agenda. “And what is this gift?” “Oh, just a small trifle,” Silver murmured with false modesty. He removed the cloth, revealing a large and perfectly clear glass bowl. Though I had learned only a few basics of glassmaking ere devoting my life to more productive pursuits, I knew that ‘twas no small feat to make a bowl so large, well-shaped, and perfectly clear. Clearly he had chosen a skilled crafter for the gift, and doubtless chose it specifically because he knew of my heritage. The daughter of a glassblower would naturally appreciate high-quality glassware. Silver took a step forward. “If I might approach the throne?” I nodded. “Thou mayest.” Shadow met him halfway to the throne, taking the bowl and giving it a cursory inspection. Or at least, it might appear nothing more than cursory to most. I knew that the enchantments ‘pon her armor and helm would be more than sufficient to locate and defuse any magical traps, not that I expected Silver to be so blatant. Still, ‘twould be foolish not to check. E’en Silver knew that much, judging by the soft chuckle he let out. “I assure you it is perfectly safe, Lady Protector. Howe’er, I know you are simply doing your part, so do not worry, I take no offense—security knows no favorites.” “Neigh, it does not,” Shadow agreed. After a few more seconds she grunted and nodded. “All seems well with it.” She passed the bowl along to me. I took the bowl from her, submitting it to mine own inspection. I found nothing amiss with the bowl itself, at least in terms of magical or mundane traps. Howe’er, when mine eyes settled on the maker’s mark at the bottom of the bowl, I realized what game Veritanu and Silver were playing. They had best hope I was mistaken as to their intentions, else they had very foolishly just signed their own death warrants. “This bowl was made locally, I see.” “Indeed it was!” Silver answered with a delighted smile. “My lord Veritanu was so pleased by the craftsmanship that he asked the maker to open a new glassblowing shop in Freeport. The artisan was quite delighted to accept.” Ah. So it likely was what I thought. Well, best to confirm it ere I took action. “And the name of this artisan?” “Mosaic, I believe.” And there ‘twas. A false god had just decided upon an especially elaborate and unpleasant form of suicide. “I see. Moving to Freeport is quite the change from Canterlot.” “Oh, most certainly,” Silver agreed. “My lord Veritanu will doubtless be happy to assist Mosaic with the expense of setting up a new shop in a new city. The gods are most generous to those who please them.” His smile faltered briefly. “I do hope the gift pleased you.” “Of course,” I answered diplomatically. “’Tis a fine gift. Tell thy Lord Veritanu that I will properly thank him for this in due course.” “Excellent!” Silver favored me with another of his false smiles. “Shall I carry any other message, or will that be all?” “I am sure I can tell him what I need to personally,” I informed the sycophant. “I will take some time to consider how best to respond to this action. I assure thee, ‘twill be an appropriate response to the diplomacy thy master has shown.” Silver smiled, and dipped into a half-bow. “Very well then. If there is nothing else, I shall take my leave.” Tempting as ‘twas to order him seized and carted off to the dungeons, I let the little worm go. His master would doubtless respond if I took his servant prisoner, and I had no doubt that for all Silver’s status, he was naught but an expendable minion to his so-called god. Shadow frowned after the ambassador once he had left. “Hmm. That was vexing.” “Vexing?” I snarled and hauled myself up from the throne. “That is the least of it. That smug little worm. I should grasp him by the throat, set him on fire, and toss him from the tallest tower in Canterlot. Neigh, that would be too swift. First I shall make him watch as I butcher his false god before his very eyes, and only when all that he believes in has been reduced to ashes before him shall his true suffering begin!” My daughter stared at me, her head tilted to the side. “What did he do to deserve such a fate?” She stared down at the bowl, frowning at it. “I see no flaws in its construction that should merit such harsh punishment. Though ‘tis curious that our family crest is in the place where a maker’s mark would normally be.” I snarled and began pacing back and forth. “Listen with thine ears, child. Hast thou forgotten what our family was ere we rose so high in Her Majesty’s favor? Hast thou learned nothing of what I have taught thee about hearing what has not been said, what is 'tween the line, and how messages can be sent through a variety of means?” Midnight grimaced, trying to puzzle through it. “I am afraid I do not understand, Mother. Perhaps you could explain it to me?” “It means,” I snarled, “that Silver and his damnable abomination have made a hostage of my brother, and intend to use him as leverage to make me do as they wish. Doubtless this is how he intends to gain his petty victory, and the blackmail is delicately done in a way that can be easily denied if taken into the open.” Naturally my daughter focused on the least important part of that revelation. “Your brother ... does this mean that I have an uncle?” “I do not recall thee speaking of him,” Shadow murmured. “Though I do vaguely recall Gale mentioning it when she first investigated thee some years ago.” I growled and waved their questions away. “Aye, Mosaic took o’er our family's glassmaking business after our parents died. Last I heard he enjoys reasonable success in his field. In truth, I have not spoken with him in some time.” Midnight frowned at me. “Mother, I have many questions.” Of course she did. “This is hardly the time for this, child. Veritanu would use my brother to force me to comply with his whims and turn my regency into a farce. That is far more important than satisfying thy idle curiosity.” My daughter stubbornly planted her hooves, refusing to let the matter rest. “Be that as it may, I still have questions.” I let forth an exasperated sigh. I knew my daughter well enough to grasp that I would know no peace until I satisfied her. “Then I shall answer them as we work.” Shadow regarded me curiously. “I take it then that thou hast a plan for how to rescue thy brother from Veritanu’s clutches? And no doubt punish him for daring to take one of thy kin hostage.” “Aye,” I snarled as the pieces began falling into place. “I do have a plan. Veritanu shall rue the day he thought to contend with me.” > The Golden Path 5 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- When it comes to the affairs of magi, preparation is key. As one of mine old masters was fond of saying, a failure to plan is ultimately a plan to fail. Though I had seen the value of keepings plans flexible in order to adapt to changing circumstances, that was not so much an argument against planning as an argument against excessively rigid, inflexible plans. If I intended to go to battle ‘gainst one of the Golden Path’s leaders, it seemed only prudent to prepare properly for the upcoming duel. Though they were false gods, they had strength enough to meet any who had dared challenge them for centuries. Pity Her Majesty had not thought to do so herself, but events kept her far too busy to go out and challenge every ruler whose practices she found distasteful. Especially when Freeport’s location made it both difficult to attack directly and too strategically important for Gryphonia or Zebrica to brook our interference. Fortunately, in this case the other nations of the world could hardly fault me for acting. All I needed to do was ensure that ‘twas plain that Veritanu was the aggressor, and that this did not represent some attempt by Equestria to exert hegemony o’er the islands. And, of course, I would need to win. Far easier to ensure my narrative remained the one accepted by the world if Veritanu was not present to offer a competing one. To that end, I was hard at work constructing one of the most elaborate containment circles I had made in some time. ‘Twould do no small amount of damage to my personal savings, but there was little point in saving my bits if it ended in defeat. Perhaps once Her Majesty returned I could persuade her to compensate me for the expense. I would be fully within my rights to make the choice myself as regent, but shifting royal funds to my personal account would carry too much of an appearance of impropriety regardless of the circumstances. In the worst case, a few bits were far from the greatest sacrifice I had made for Equestria. I frowned down at the circle as I moved on to the next set of runes. “Midnight, more silver dust.” My daughter promptly set about pouring more into a bowl for me. Howe’er, the stubborn frown upon her lips forewarned me of what would be coming. “Mother, I still have questions that need to be answered.” “So thou hast mentioned several times in the last two hours,” I groused. My daughter stared at me, her eyes blinking slowly as they often seemed to do when she was particularly perturbed. “So I have. My questions remain unanswered.” I sighed and resisted the urge to snap at her. ‘Twould do no good; Midnight could be most stubborn when she set her mind to it, and few things brought out that stubbornness more than forcing her to go with unsatisfied curiosity. If I wanted a moment’s peace my only choices were to send her away or answer her. Tempting as the former was, constructing the circle would be much more bothersome without a capable assistant. “Ask, then.” Midnight passed the bowl o’er to me with a frown. “Why have you never told me that I have an uncle?” I sprinkled the dust into the runes, then used a quick blast of fire to melt it and fuse the material into place. “’Twas not important.” My daughter tilted her head to the side quizzically. “But I have heard it said that family is one of the most important things in the world. Shadow finds it so important she maintains a large extended family in the form of her clan, and though the nobles are foolish they too put a great deal of importance upon ties of blood and family.” “But we are not pegasi, and only nobles by happenstance,” I answered her. In truth I had been more than a little tempted to refuse the noble title circumstances forced upon me or repudiate it at a later date. Howe’er, such would likely be unwise. “Mosaic is a skilled but by no means remarkable artisan. I do not see how knowing about him would change anything.” I inspected the circle, nodding to myself once I was reasonably certain all was well. Then moved on to the next section. “Diamond dust.” Midnight went back to the supply table, though the frown did not leave her face. “But he is mine uncle. Why have we never visited him?” I sighed and tried to think of the best way to explain several complicated reasons to a very literal-minded child. “Because there would be nothing to gain from it. When last I visited my family, ere thou wert born, 'twas quite plain we now resided in different worlds.” I realized my mistake as soon as I saw Midnight’s confused frown. “Different worlds? But I thought we all existed on but one globe.” I sighed and made a note to put a book explaining the idea of metaphor on my daughter’s reading list. “They lived the lives of common artisans, while I was a magus and politically active. Our attempts at conversation showed that we shared little in common beyond a bloodline.” “Ah.” Midnight passed me the bowl. “I still do not understand. I often fail to fully grasp what you mean, but we still converse. I think you enjoy explaining such things to me.” “At times,” I agreed. Midnight had a sharp mind and was eager to learn. Whene’er her ceaseless curiosity did not become vexing or was not ill-timed, ‘twas enjoyable to explain the ways of the world to her. In that, she was quite different from the others in our bloodline. “Because the life of a courtly mage and that of a glassblower are very different. Whene’er one of us attempted to discuss anything more than idle pleasantries, it soon became apparent that we lacked much in the way of common frames of reference. I told them of my work at Court or my magical accomplishments, and was met with polite smiles and blank incomprehension. And doubtless seemed much the same when told of all that passed within their own lives.” Midnight remained silent, watching carefully as I sprinkled the diamond dust into a new set of runes. Once I was done, she finally broke her silence. “Is this why the nobility refuse to consort with commoners?” I scoffed and shook my head. “No, that is a matter of foolish beliefs that their bloodline or ‘pure breeding’ somehow makes them superior to the commonfolk, something I am sure thou knowest I do not believe in the slightest.” Especially as the nobles would always regard me as naught but an upjumped commoner, whate’er title I might hold. Midnight’s lips pressed together as she considered this. “So you merely do not wish to speak with them because you hold different professions?” I closed mine eyes and took a deep breath. The complexities of social interaction were difficult for Midnight, and so she struggled to find concrete facts within a morass of vague, ephemeral feelings that often lacked clear explanation. I did my best to provide her with one. “The last time we spoke, ’twas awkward and unpleasant for all involved on account of a lack of common frame of reference.” “Oh.” Her ears fell flat against her skull. “You do not like one another?” I frowned and shook my head. “I would not say we dislike one another.” My parents and Mosaic had certainly fulfilled their expected societal roles with the expected level of proficiency. I had no reason to think ill of them, merely... “Our lives did not o’erlap. They lived as artisans, and I as a magus and eventual Grand Vizier.” “I see.” Midnight stared at me unblinkingly. “And this is true of my grandparents as well?” “Aye, while they lived,” I confirmed. “Oh.” Her gaze dropped to the floor, one hoof awkwardly scuffing along it. “I would have liked to have met them.” I was at something of a loss for words at her response. After several seconds I realized the likely reason I could not find an easy explanation or justification for mine actions: because none existed. Awkward conversation made a poor excuse for why she had not met her grandparents. E’en if she ultimately agreed there was little common ground, she deserved the chance to meet them and make that choice herself. “Aye, perhaps it would have been better if thou hadst.” Midnight’s frown grew. “And ... what of my mother’s family? Are they—” “Dead with her,” I cut her off. The lie that I had gotten her upon a paramour would not stand up to intense scrutiny, and after Nightmare Moon’s cultists had kidnapped her I had all the more reason to keep her true heritage hidden. Midnight’s curiosity knew no limit, and the Nightmare would be quick to take advantage if she dug too deep. My daughter grimaced at the news, and she let out a heavy sigh. “Alas that we cannot commit foul forms of necromancy to communicate with their dearly departed spirits, wrenching them from the hereafter to today so that I might converse with their tortured souls.” I knew better than to assume that my daughter was not entirely sincere with her remarks. And in truth, ‘twas a pity that she could not come to know our family in some way. “Neigh, we cannot.” The two of us stood in silence, struggling to find any new words to add further clarity to the matter. I felt a curious sort of regret, an unpleasant sinking sensation in the pit of my stomach as I realized that I had wronged my daughter. Doubtless my parents would have enjoyed meeting her too, regardless of her eccentricities and the circumstances of her birth. Alas, we cannot change the past. Merely work to make a better future, with Veritanu’s destruction and Mosaic’s freedom being a vital step along that path. “A ruby, child. The large one.” Midnight nodded dutifully. “Of course, Mother.” She walked over to the shelf, though without the level of enthusiasm she usually showed while assisting me. She picked up several gems, placing them side by side to find which would be the largest. Judging by her listlessness, I thought it best to offer her some assurance that I would correct past mistakes. “Once the matter is resolved, I will see to it that thou canst at least meet Mosaic.” I carefully inspected the setting for the ruby, making sure every measurement perfectly matched the requirements. The slightest error in the containment circle could end very badly for all involved, most importantly myself and my daughter. “I would like to meet my uncle ere he dies.” Midnight watched as I set the gem in place, her head slowly tilting to the side. “What are you planning?” I saw no reason to mince words with her. “Veritanu’s downfall.” “Of course, but how will that be done?” She frowned down at the circle. “And what part will our efforts here play in bringing doom upon him? Do you plan on luring him to our basement with false promises, then murdering him where none shall see such that the disposal of the body will be much simpler?” I scoffed and shook my head. “No, nothing so blatant as that.” Midnight walked around my circle, studying it intently. “Then how will you see to his downfall? Through some political machination? No, if ‘twas purely political you would not need to construct such an elaborate magic circle, unless ‘twas a precaution ‘gainst attack. Will it be some combination of force and politics, then?” “In a post such as mine, all actions are political,” I pointed out. “There is a careful balance to be struck ‘tween subtlety and shows of force. In this case, I lean more towards the latter. The time has come to send a message to Veritanu and his ilk, not to mention any others who might think Equestria vulnerable with Her Majesty’s absence. Veritanu would not be half so bold were Celestia here, and if he is not swiftly punished for it others might well see weakness and move to exploit it. There is nothing more fatal than being seen as too weak to defend oneself. Thus, the need to send a clear message.” Midnight frowned. “I do not see how sending him a letter will cause his destruction.” For a moment I wondered if Midnight was mocking me. She was always literal-minded, but usually not to this degree. Regardless, I made my meaning plain for her. “Veritanu’s destruction shall be the message, child.” Comprehension dawned in her eyes. “Ah, that type of message. His body shall be hung upon a gibbet for the sport of the ravens, and all the world will know that the same fate awaits them if they dare make an enemy of you.” She blinked with ponderous slowness. “But will that not cause a war with Freeport? Slaying one of their leaders cannot go unanswered, especially if ‘tis done publicly so as to send a clear message.” “Aye, if 'twas naught but wanton murder,” I agreed. “Fortunately, there are alternatives to that. Veritanu’s rivals among the Golden Path will not lament his downfall if ‘tis plain he brought it upon himself, nor will they go to great pains to avenge him so long as ‘twould be a risky enterprise with uncertain prospects—something his death will doubtless signal. Immortals fear death far more than mortals, for they fail to accept its inevitability as we do.” “Many do not,” Midnight pointed out. “Necromancy is built entirely upon the refusal to accept that death is the inevitable end of life. I imagine the same is true of fleshcrafting, or several other forms of dark magic. Howe’er, ‘twould make sense that those who use magic to try to stave off death fear it more than those who accept it.” She paced about the circle, nearly tripping into it when she managed to tangle herself upon her own gangly legs. Clearly she was still adjusting to her growth as she transitioned from filly to adult. My daughter did her best to keep her head held high and pretend the stumble had not happened.“What do you have planned?” “Something quite simple.” I warded her off with an upraised hoof ere she could cause any further damage with her clumsiness. “Juris.” “A duel.” Midnight nodded. “That would make sense; dueling is well-respected. Her Majesty’s prohibition upon you dueling to the death obviously would not apply when you have royal authority, and so long as you can justify your actions she will doubtless understand. Though there is one matter that yet eludes me: how will you claim that Veritanu wronged you? You cannot mention your brother without the matter escalating.” I answered her with a dry smile. “Who said that I would be the one to challenge him?” One of Midnight’s eyebrows quirked up. “Ah, I see now. Doubtless the immense pride that comes from falsely believing himself to be a god will make it easy to provoke him into demanding satisfaction from you, and if he challenges you it would remove several of the potential problems I foresaw. The other false gods and foreign powers would be far more inclined to see his demise as self-inflicted if he demands the battle, and Her Majesty can hardly fault you for defending yourself against an attack. It would also contain any potential diplomatic fallout by ensuring that he is the one who violates the laws of hospitality.” “Indeed so.” I smiled, feeling a touch of pride in my words. “One would almost think I had carefully considered all these factors when crafting my plan for his downfall.” Midnight nodded gravely. “I would hope so. There is still the question of how precisely you will provoke him into challenging you without giving so gross an offense that perception turns against you. Though given the immense pride of a false god, I would imagine you can find some way to push him without crossing the line of decency.” “I should imagine so, aye,” I agreed. A frown tugged at my daughter’s lips. “Howe’er, there is still one significant problem left to account for.” At my intrigued look she explained. “If you challenge Veritanu to a duel then you will have to kill a creature that claims to be a god. He may be a false one, but he would not claim the title and hold it for so long if he were not significantly stronger than most mortals.” “Aye, that much is true,” I conceded. I smirked, letting a hint of pride enter into mine own voice. “But then, I am the Archmagus of Canterlot. I am quite a bit stronger than most mortals as well.” “That may be so,” Midnight agreed. “But still, is it not dangerous? Would it not be wiser to allow Lady Protector Shadow to take the field? Her victory o’er the Avatar shows that she is capable of facing beings e’en greater than the false gods of the Golden Path in battle.” “Shadow is not the regent,” I countered. “It is not her kin that Veritanu holds hostage nor her power he has challenged. Neigh, this must be my battle.” Doubtless there were already those who said that Shadow should be regent, not I. Letting Shadow fight my battles would only amplify that perception. “Veritanu is dangerous, but not more than I can manage. In no small part because of our efforts here.” Midnight looked down at the circle, frowning at it. “But circles only work to contain or concentrate magic. Unless Veritanu is physically present here, I do not see how this would be of use in combating him.” I answered her with a knowing smile. “All shall become clear in time, child.” Midnight scowled at me. “That is needlessly vague and does not answer my question.” Considering the circumstances, I think ‘twas entirely understandable why I issued my next command. “When we are finished here, carry the following message to Shadow: ‘All is ready, she is to proceed as I have ordered.’” Midnight’s scowl deepened. “That is e’en more mysterious. How can I properly convey such a message when I do not understand its meaning?” “Thou needs not understand the message to convey it,” I answered. “But ‘twould be far less irksome,” Midnight grumbled. “Alas, the world does not bend itself merely to avoid irking thee,” I teased. “A message only Shadow will understand is far less likely to be o’erheard and turned ‘gainst us. Once that errand has been seen to, return to the tower and remain in safety.” Midnight sighed and nodded reluctantly. “I suppose I can understand the need for secrecy, e’en if ‘tis most frustrating. Do not worry though, Mother. I do not intend on putting myself in mortal peril. If Veritanu captured me he would no doubt put me to torture, cutting and burning my flesh in an effort to force me to reveal your darkest secrets. That would be extremely unpleasant, and I have no desire to experience it.” “I should hope not,” I murmured. My daughter’s head tilted to the side. “There is no other way I might aid you?” “Neigh, merely ensure that thou art safe ere the battle is joined.” I would have troubles enough without worrying after my daughter’s safety. Midnight nodded dutifully. “That should not be difficult ... I think.” “Good.” I put the finishing touches on my magic circle, then quickly looked her o’er. “For there is nothing in this world more important to me than that.” Midnight frowned at me quizzically. “My safety is of such paramount importance?” A foolish question, but then she was but a child. I could hardly expect her to grasp the responsibilities of motherhood. “It is.” “Oh.” Midnight approached me, slowly and awkwardly extending her forelegs. It took me a moment to grasp her intentions, but then I stepped forward and wrapped a foreleg around her in turn, embracing her. ‘Twas a customary means of showing affection, though one we rarely indulged in. As I held my daughter, I could not quite recall why we did not do so more often. ‘Twas pleasant enough in its own way, e’en if the proximity was somewhat unusual for both of us. My daughter had been less inclined to seek such closeness since the training incident. ‘Twas gratifying to have such again, e’en if ‘twas only for a moment. Life, I have found, is often made up of such all too brief moments. All was in readiness by the next day, so ‘twas simply a matter of calling Veitanu to court and putting the next stage of the plan into motion. ‘Twould be simple enough so long as I had predicted his moves properly, and I was sure I had. I made certain ‘twould be a public session of court for maximum spectacle, not to mention dozens of witnesses to confirm the account. All the better, I would need a few witness accounts to help confirm that Veritanu was wholly in the wrong. Matters would be considerably more complicated if I did not indisputably hold the moral high ground. The false god arrived with his sycophant and the Chargers. Doubtless the mercenaries had done the actual work of capturing Mosaic; the false god would not dirty his hooves with such work, and Silver was no warrior. Perhaps I would have to settle matters with them after Veritanu’s death. Then again, what point to punishing the instrument when the one who wielded it was already slain? Mercy could be a potent tool, and a mercenary who owed me a favor might be useful in the future. As Veritanu strode up to the throne, the superior smirk upon his lips told the tale. He doubtless thought he had come to hear my capitulation. He could not have been more wrong. I found myself answering his smile with one of mine own. I was most certainly looking forward to grinding this false god into the dust and wiping the smirk off his lips. “Lord Veritanu, thank you for answering my summons so promptly.” The false god answered me with a bored sort of look, as if he were an indulgent parent enduring a child’s demands for attention. “I look forward to the swift return of my property.” It took no small effort on my part to keep any hint of enjoyment from entering my voice as I cut his legs out from beneath him. “Ah, my apologies, but it seems there was a misunderstanding. There is going to be a delay in the return of your property.” Just as I had hoped, the smirk instantly vanished off his lips. When next he spoke there was the barest hint of a growl in his voice. “How much of a delay?” I shrugged helplessly and began to recite my carefully prepared script, taking care to sound appropriately contrite as I did so. “I am afraid I cannot say quite yet. I just received a letter from the Manehattan harbor master, and he has informed me that there were already three other incidents of smuggling that require his thorough attention. As per Queen Celestia's decrees, such incidents are to be dealt with in the order they are discovered. What is more, I am also sorry to report that the dockmaster's office is currently understaffed due to an ague that seems to have swept much of the city. Perhaps something brought in by ship. It has been known to happen from time to time.” Veritanu’s smile fully reversed itself, becoming a full-fledged scowl. “How. Long?” “Much to my regret, I cannot provide you with a precise answer at this time.” I sighed, as if I truly regretted that. “As I said, the dockmaster is currently o’erburdened with his duties, and the dock’s staff is in the midst of an audit ordered by Her Majesty ere she departed. As such all the dock’s paperwork is being carefully reviewed, and if any irregularities are found that could cause yet more delays as those matters are resolved. And, as I mentioned, there is an ague afflicting many of the workers. For the moment it seems to be a relatively harmless disease, but if it continues to spread then much of Manehattan might need to be put under quarantine. Which, of course, would include a complete shutdown of the docks and barring any ships from leaving port.” Outright rejection of Veritanu’s demands would have risked Mosaic’s safety, but there are far more nuanced approaches to take. I had certainly suffered my share of obstinate officials and nobles who clung tenaciously to whate’er scrap of power they held and did all they could to disrupt and delay mine actions. More than once I had been sorely tempted to set the offending parties aflame. If mine own temper could be so tested, imagine that of a false god who is not used to receiving anything other than instant and complete obedience, and plainly believed himself above the laws of mere mortals. Veritanu glared at me, and I was almost certain I heard to beginnings of a growl rumbling in the back of his throat. Silver Tithe quickly stepped in to defuse the crisis with his typical unctuousness. “While I am sure there are a great many burdens afflicting your harbormaster, surely you could expedite the matter of Lord Veritanu's property in light of his status and the diplomatic implications.” I rubbed my chin and made a show of carefully thinking it o’er, e’en though my mind had been made up long before they entered the room. “I considered that myself and made several inquiries into the matter.” I let out a somewhat exaggerated sigh. “Alas, I am afraid ‘twould seem that my hooves are tied. The decrees governing such matters were put in place by Her Majesty, and only an express order from her may change the investigation queue for foreign ships coming into Equestria's ports. Queen Celestia did not wish to seem like she was showing indecent favor towards any one of our neighbors.” “Ah.” Silver grimaced, but rallied quickly. “Surely as her Regent you have some discretion in to act such matters.” “On many matters, yes,” I agreed. “Howe’er, in this case I would be directly contradicting one of her previous orders.” I sent Silver one of the same unctuous smiles he had so often directed towards me. “I am sure thou canst understand that I would not presume to o’errule a goddess.” Silver opened his mouth, then closed it with a grimace. I had neatly captured him within a trap of his own devising. He could hardly ask that I defy divine orders. E’en though he doubtless knew that I did not regard Celestia as divine, his own belief system said otherwise. He could hardly incite me to blasphemy while his own god stood at his side. Veritanu intervened ere his servant could flounder too gravely. “Thou wouldst not o’errule thy goddess then. That is wise. But surely thou couldst do so if a god commanded thee to.” “Perhaps,” I conceded, “Howe’er, I would have to be speaking to a god to consider such a thing.” I settled into the throne, letting my eyes rest unflinchingly upon the false god. “Otherwise, I must apply the law equally to all.” Veritanu’s head snapped back as if I had struck him across the face. Shock quickly gave way to anger. “Thou wouldst dare?!” I feigned ignorance. “Dare what, my lord?” Silver Tithe quickly stepped in, entering the conversation with a polite cough. “Ah, regent, what you said could be misunderstood to mean that you were denying Lord Veritanu's divinity. Obviously that was not your intention, but...” “Yes, I should hope my intent was perfectly clear,” I answered, carefully controlling my tone. “I was under the impression that the status of Veritanu's divinity was self-evident for all to see.” “Of course, of course.” Silver smiled hopefully, to his credit trying to defuse the growing tensions. Howe’er, a look from his master made it plain who was in control. “And, in the interests of diplomacy, would you please state for the record what exactly that status is?” Clever. I suppose I should have known that Silver would not let me dodge about the question to let an insult hang in the air without being openly stated or refuted. Howe’er, I had no intention of letting him have his way. “In the interest of diplomacy and my status as regent, I would not wish to state anything that might be misconstrued or interpreted, or imply an untruth. Her Majesty has not made any official declaration as to the divinity of the leadership of the Golden Path, and ‘twould be most improper for me to do so in her absence.” Judging by the snarl lurking just beneath his words, Veritanu’s temper had already begun to fray. “Thou art insolent, mortal. Grant me what is mine.” I answered him with a polite smile. It has been my experience that few things offend angry people more than remaining perfectly calm and polite in the face of their rage. “I assure you, my lord, you will receive everything you deserve as soon as I can deliver it. I have invested considerable time and resources to ensuring that the resolution of this matter is thorough and the outcome indisputable.” “Enough empty words!” Veritanu seemed on the verge of shouting, but had not quite crossed the threshold yet. “Tell me when my property will be returned.” “I will do so as soon as I have a certain answer to the question,” I assured the abomination. “As I have explained, matters are not entirely within my control and I must account for existing laws and outside circumstances. I promise you, I will bring the matter to a satisfactory conclusion. Or Her Majesty will, should the delay extend until she returns. Which is a distinct possibility.” “Unacceptable,” Veritanu snapped. “If my property is not returned on the morrow, there will be grave consequences.” I ignored the threat as empty bluster, shrugged helplessly. “Mine apologies, but I have done all that I can to aid thee.” I let the word hang in the air for just a second ere I corrected it. “You.” Judging by the fire within the false gods eyes, he had not missed the minor aggression. Doubtless no mortal had dared to address him so familiarly, and any who had met with a swift and unpleasant end. Silver stepped into the conversation once more, doubtless trying to prevent his master from losing all self control. His words oozed with blatant flattery. “I am sure a politician of your considerable skill, connections, and influence could find a way to smooth over any wrinkles in the process and fulfill my lord’s request.” I had the perfect answer for him. “I could send a message directly to Celestia and ask for her permission to o’erturn her standing orders, though given she is roaming the North searching for Blightspawn that process could take some time. I will also have our dedicated and capable scholars peruse our lawbooks to see if any other options are available to us.” Silver glanced up at his god, evidently waiting for some signal ere he continued. “I am sure you will do everything within your power to see to it that Lord Veritanu's property is returned as swiftly as possible.” “I assure you, your master will receive everything that he rightfully deserves.” I wisely refrained from explaining that what he and his kind rightfully deserved was a swift and painful demise. “Now, I believe our business is concluded for the moment, and I have other petitioners who wish  to have their cases weighed by the throne.” One of Veritanu’s hooves slammed down on the floor, sending cracks through the marble. “We are not done! I am a god! Thou wilt not dismiss me to rule upon a dispute ‘tween two farmers regarding ownership of a pig!” Ah, lovely, the so-called god was going to throw a tantrum like a young child denied sweets. Neigh, e’en Midnight had always had the sense to confine herself to no worse than sullen silence and grumbled complaints when she was a young filly. “I am most sorry, Veritanu, but the time I have allotted for this meeting is quite spent. We are already five minutes late for my next appointment. I will inform you as soon as anything changes with the status of your ship.” Just as I had hoped, Veritanu would have none of it. “I will not be dismissed like some lowly mortal servant!” Silver stepped in, trying to placate his god. “My lord, perhaps we—” He got no further ere Veritanu silenced him with a glare. Regardless of his debatable skill as a diplomat, Silver could not do anything other than obey in the face of god’s wrath. Of course, the false god’s childish rage played perfectly into my hooves. The more unreasonable and irrational he looked, the easier ‘twould be to explain his death and ensure that the blame for it fell squarely upon his own shoulders. I changed my tone, adopting the one I usually reserved for when Midnight was being especially willful. “There is nothing more to discuss. I have told you all that I can at this moment. If you would be so kind as to allow others to have their chance to address the throne...” “No!” He roared loud enough to make the rafters tremble. “Thou wilt give certain assurance that my property will be returned to me at once, or I shall not be held responsible for the consequences that will follow.” As any good parent should, I met the tantrum with total control. “My lord, I believe your humors are out of balance. Doubtless you are very tired after the journey from Freeport. Perhaps you wish to be escorted to your quarters for some rest?” “I shall not rest until my demands are satisfied!” Veritanu’s eyes narrowed. “Think very carefully about all that thou wouldst lose by defying me.” Ah, and there it was. An actual threat. I need not restrain myself quite so much. I felt my head tilt slightly to the side as I spoke, and idly wondered whether Midnight had acquired the gesture from me, or I from her. “You may wish to be careful with your words, Lord Veritanu. I will remind you that you are a guest in Her Majesty's court, and bound by the laws of hospitality. Your words sounded dangerously close to a threat.” Veritanu’s voice dropped to a low growl that did not carry past the throne. “Were we in Freeport, I would rend thy soul for this insult.” As we were speaking privately, I saw no reason to hide my contempt from him. “Then ‘tis good we are a very long way from Freeport. Though even if we were there ... better monsters than thou have tried it, and yet here I stand.” “For now.” Veritanu drew back, pulling himself up to his full height and returning his voice to full volume. “There is a custom in this land, by which we might gain justice when all other forms have been denied.” Ah, perfect. “Aye, you speak of juris ungala. Do you wish to declare your right to seek justice on the dueling ground?” “I do,” Veritanu declared. “Name thy champion.” “I will not.” I rose from the throne. “As the Regent of Equestria, it falls upon me to accept such a challenge.” I smiled and tossed my head, shooting a look o’er to crowd to ensure that all eyes were upon me. “And accept I shall.” Silver Tithe frowned up at me, and must have guessed at my intentions. Doubtless he realized that I was far too confident and entirely unsurprised, and mayhaps he e’en guessed that I had desired this very outcome. He tried to whisper a warning to his false god, but Veritanu brushed him off. “So be it. Thy successor will have to grant me what is mine.” “That will only be a concern if thou art victorious,” I shot back. “I have ne’er lost a duel.” “Thou hast ne’er faced me,” Veritanu shot back with a cold smile. “But enough talk and bluster. The truth of thy doom shall be apparent once we reach the dueling ground.” Despite the considerable risk of the coming battle, I could feel myself growing excited at the prospect of a proper duel. I had not faced a truly challenging enemy since the war. “Then let us dance and see how much of a god you really are.” It had been some time since I last went into battle, and e’en longer since I had engaged in a proper duel. Thankfully, I believed in being prepared for all eventualities, and had been specifically readying myself for battle against Veritanu. I arrived at the dueling ground as ready as a mare could be to slay a god. My mithril chainmail sat easily across my shoulders, and beneath my robes I carried a veritable armory of potions, ingredients, daggers, and all manner of other items that would aid me in battle. Veritanu, by contrast, looked far less prepared. The only thing to change about his appearance since his arrival at court was a set of pure-white platemail. A closer look showed it to be far too thin to be effective—mere costume armor. I found that more concerning than a relief. Evidently the false god believed himself capable of defeating me with nothing beyond his own twisted gifts and warped anatomy. Veritanu’s eyes settled upon me, and a cold smile tugged at his lips. “Regent. I suppose I should be glad thou didst dress so well for thy funeral.” “You intend this to be a duel to the death then?” I queried, loud enough that all the crowd could hear me. Unsurprisingly, all of Canterlot’s well-to-do had turned out for the match. ‘Twould certainly be the grandest and most impressive duel fought in recent memory, and ‘tween one of Equestria’s greatest duelists and a self-proclaimed deity. I would have been more shocked if we had not drawn a massive crowd. The false god chuckled. “I am not in the habit of letting those who defy me live.” I was a touch surprised he would be so bold. “Surely thou must know that e’en if thou art victorious, Celestia would not forgive the murder of her regent.” “‘Murder’?” Veritanu repeated incredulously. “This is a duel, one thou didst enter into willingly. I gave thee the option of naming a champion to fight in thy stead.” His voice dropped down to a cruel whisper intended for my ears alone. “Do not overestimate thy value to thy goddess. I doubt she remembers any of her advisors from a century ago. Nor will she remember so much as thy name a century after thou art gone.” I scoffed and ignored the barb. If Celestia had a flaw, ‘twas that she remembered the past too often. I pitched my voice for the crowd once more. “Lord Veritanu, hast thou come to see the error of thy ways? Dost thou seek to apologize for your behavior in court?” “What a curious thing, that a mortal demands apologies of a god,” Veritanu commented. “But as a god, I am magnanimous with my lessers. Stand down now and I shall grant thee mercy.” “Why would I do that when I am in the right?” I smiled, feeling my blood pumping as battle neared. “And why should I back down from a duel where I will be the victor?” Veritanu spared me a contemptuous look. “A mortal cannot defeat a god any more than thou couldst fly into the heavens without wings.” I thought back to my brief experimentation with flight spells when it seemed we might need to storm Cloudsdale to put an end to the pegasus rebels. “Do not be so quick to tell a magus what they can and cannot do.” Veritanu rolled his shoulders and tossed his horned head. “Enough posturing. I have nothing more to say to a corpse.” “Strange, I have ne’er known a god to be impatient.” I smirked at him. “But we both know thy true nature. Thy death will merely be the proof of it.” I wasted no time going on the offensive the instant the duel began, hurling a blast of flame straight for the abomination’s head. I had little hope that ‘twould kill him, but it should at least force him to show his hoof. Veritanu did nothing to block or dodge the blast, simply letting the fire wash o’er him. His mane swiftly burned away, but the flesh itself seemed unmarred. Once the flames passed and I could see Veritanu clearly, I realized that he was in fact far more armored than I had seen. A thick, almost resinous sort of fluid covered his body. It had been all but transparent, but in the wake of my flames it had taken on a slight yellowish tinge. Evidently ‘twas some manner of defense against flame. The false god smirked. “Surely thou didst not think 'twould be that simple?” “Neigh, if thou fell so quickly ‘twould merely have been a disappointment.” I followed up with a wave of ice shards, each sharp enough to cleave flesh from bone. Veritanu’s wing snapped out and swatted the attack aside. Considering the normal toughness of flesh and feather, a normal wing would have been shredded by such a thing. His remained untouched. Plainly he was far harder to wound than his appearance suggested. Veritanu let out an exaggerated yawn. “Art thou done playing at battle? Shall I end this?” “Done?” I shot back. “I have not e’en begun! Only a fool plays all their cards in first round.” I smirked and tossed my head, letting my unburned mane fly out for contrast against his bare skull. “Though I will give thee one warning: I would never have become archmagus if a small measure of resistance to heat and cold were enough to best me.” I felt a tingle building in my horn as I prepared my next spell. ‘Twas one of the reasons I preferred not to channel lightning as much as other elements. The tingle was somewhat unpleasant and very distracting. Copper Spark had always been better at manipulating it. Pity the rebels killed him. I unleashed the lightning bolt at Veritanu. Howe’er, much to my surprise it did not strike home. Instead he moved so quickly he seemed a blur, rolling beneath the electrical blast. The lightning bolt carried on to crash against the wards at the edge of the dueling ring. The spells kept the attack from carrying on into the crowd of onlookers, though most of those in the impact area still scattered and dove for cover on instinct. As soon as Veritanu returned to his hooves I realized that his wing had grown quite a bit larger than I recalled. As I watched it continued to expand until it grew nearly three times the size it had been moments ago, and the feather tips transformed into viciously hooked claws. I barely had time to bring up a solid plane of ice to block the attack ere it crashed into me. I would have preferred a more active defense rather than merely blocking him, but given the speed and defenses he had displayed thus far ‘twould be unwise to rely upon any attack stymieing him. Though no duel has e’er been won by remaining on the defensive, many have been lost due to inadequate defense. As I watched, Veritanu’s other wing narrowed and extended, becoming a thin, flexible tentacle. He whipped the new limb at my head, and I barely ducked beneath the blow in time. I could hardly allow him to pin me down with one limb while the other swiped at my unprotected flank, and encasing myself entirely in a shield would surrender the initiative to him. ‘Twas past time I changed the circumstances I found myself in. Though illusions had ne’er been a particular specialty of mine, an Archmagus is skilled in all disciplines of magic. I quickly conjured up an illusion of myself before turning invisible, rushing to a new position as quickly as I could without giving myself away. Once I had a clear shot at the abomination’s back, I slammed a fresh lightning bolt into him. This time the attack struck home, but to less effect that I would have liked. It seemed that the same resinous coating that protected him against fire also sufficed to disperse electrical attacks. How inconvenient. To make matters worse, I had given away my ploy by attacking. Veritanu turned his back on my illusion, his nostrils flaring as his eyes shifted to blood red. “Surely thou dost not think I can be hidden from so easily?” “I am simply taking thy measure, abomination.” I reached into my robes, finding the bottles of alchemical fire I had prepared for the battle. A quick flick of my hoof scattered them about the battlefield, setting off a dozen small fires seemingly at random. Veritanu scoffed, evidently assuming I had intended to strike him. “Thine aim is slipping. Is it fear that weakens thee, or exhaustion?” His tentacle lashed out, perfectly seeking me out despite the invisibility spell I was hidden beneath. Fortunately, ‘tween his boasting and mine own training I was not taken by surprise. I conjured up another ice shield to catch the blow, this time adding several spikes to it so that I might combine offense and defense. ‘Twas a fine idea, but the tentacle’s flexibility and resinous coating allowed it to avoid skewering itself upon my defenses. I would need to find some way to remove his resin ere I could destroy him. “Ah, thou thinkest my blow missed?” I grinned and tossed my mane as I watched the fires begin burning all across the dueling ring. “Tell thyself that if it brings thee comfort in thy final moments.” As Veritanu leveled his next blow I leapt into one of the fires, reappearing in one of the blazes behind the abomination. I took advantage of the multiple conflagrations I had begun, using the difference in pressure ‘tween hot and cold air as a foundation for my next attack. When I struck the abomination with a blast of impressively high-pressure air, not e’en his gelatinous coating could protect him. Plainly ‘twas more focused on heat and piercing blows than broad blunt trauma. ‘Twas most gratifying to see the false god knocked from his hooves and reduced to scrambling in the dirt. I grinned triumphantly. “Thou canst not protect thyself from everything, fiend!” I hurled several throwing darts at the beast, ones that Shadow had loaned me from her personal stores. The projectiles sank into the beast with admirable efficacy, their mass carrying them through the resin with enough force to pierce his flesh and draw blood. Or at least, what passed for the abomination’s blood; normal blood was not such a bright and unpleasant shade of yellow. Veritanu’s eyes flicked to the wound, then narrowed. Evidently it offended him that a lowly mortal had shed his divine blood. “I will enjoy killing thee slowly,” he snarled. His skin bulged out, thickening into a white carapace that rippled with lines of teal and purple. “Savor this petty victory in thy last moments.” “Count thyself fortunate that this is not a duel to first blood, else I would already be the victor and thou wouldst return to Freeport in shame!” I leapt into another blaze as the abomination charged towards me, and when I emerged in my new location conjured up new illusions bursting from several other flames. I remained near the fire along with my illusions, both to maintain my mobility and to baffle any attempt to tell the real me from the false with heat-vision. I then fired a new lightning bolt at the monster, trying to strike the metal darts that had pierced both resin and flesh. Veritanu was not inclined to accomodate my plans. His wings returned to their original shape and carried him o’er my attack with a single powerful flap. “First blood means nothing when this battle will be decided by the last!” He quickly banked around, then swooped in upon me, ignoring all the illusions. “I can smell thee, foolish magus!” “My thanks for that knowledge!” I once more tested the limits of my skill, tapping into the earth to quickly create a wall of solid stone ‘tween myself and the false god. That done, I drew another of the many potions I had prepared for this battle, hurling it to the side of the wall. The noxious green cloud that emerged when the glass shattered and the ingredients within reacted with one another was deeply offensive to mine own nostrils. To a being who had enhanced his sense of smell as much as Veritanu must have... Veritanu let out a furious snarl as he slammed a hoof into the wall, instantly sending dozens of cracks through the solid rock. A second blow demolished it completely, and he followed that by  flapping his wings with such force that it nearly bowled me off my hooves. Far more importantly, it scattered the flames next to me and left me with no avenue of retreat faster than mine own hooves could take me. “Thou art running short of tricks, magus,” Veritanu gloated. “I shall catch thee soon enough.” “Pity for thee I already have thy measure!” I gathered up the last of the heat from my dispersed fire, using it to create another high pressure air blast. Given the strength the beast had already displayed, I could ill afford to let him close with me. A moment ere my spell would have struck, Veritanu’s resinous shell seemed to bubble a short distance out from his fleshy armor, only to go flat again when the spell hit. The false god smirked. “Surely thou didst not expect the same gambit to succeed twice!” He closed in, far too fast for me to hope to escape him. Another shield spell would be pointless after how easily he demolished my rock wall, and so I had only one viable choice. I attacked, unleashing an impressively powerful blast of pure light straight at the creature. If not for the wards around the dueling circle, I likely would have blinded many of the onlookers. I certainly hoped ‘twould do the same to Veritanu, though the light I directed at him should hopefully be of sufficient intensity to burn him to a crisp ere there was any reason to worry of blindness. Those hopes quickly faded when I felt a massive blow slam into my shoulder, sending me rolling to the ground. I tried to quickly return to my hooves, but the process was not quite as smooth and painless as I remembered it being. ‘Twould seem I was no longer the young, nimble duelist who could take a blow, shrug it off, and then easily spring back to her hooves. Much like Shadow had complained of at times, I had reached an age where skill and experience must substitute for the full vigor of youth. ‘Twas most fortunate that my attack had some effect upon Veritanu, else I ne’er would have had time to recover from his blow. E’en as I staggered back to my hooves, Veritanu stood blinking owlishly, staring down at his chest. The resinous coating that had covered it was now completely absent, and the flesh beneath was the cherry red of a mild burn. Hardly as devastating as I would have liked, but at least I had broken his defenses. “A god who bleeds and can be o’erwhelmed by an attack from a mere mortal?” I taunted. “That hardly sounds like a god to me!” As I had hoped it would, the mockery pierced him far deeper than any blow I had struck in the actual battle. With an enraged snarl, the false god hurled himself at me. His wings expanded into massive claws, and if he succeeded in bringing them down upon me I doubted that e’en my best defensive spells would suffice to hold him back. Howe’er, I had ne’er been one to defend when I could attack instead. As the abomination closed upon me I unleashed a gout of fire concentrated to such a fine point ‘twas no longer the usual orange-yellow, but rather an almost painfully bright shade of blue. I aimed it directly at the exposed spot upon Veritanu’s chest, intending to take advantage of his lowered defenses. The abomination staggered backwards with a roar, and I could plainly see the charred flesh where I struck him. He quickly fell back, shielding his chest with his wings while fresh resin poured from his body to cover the wound. “Does a god bleed?!” I taunted. “Does he cry out in pain when a mortal strikes him?!” I seized the initiative, conjuring up a solid pillar of ice that erupted from the ground beneath him, slamming into the false god’s belly. Veritanu did his best to roll with the blow, letting it carry him up into the sky ere he used his wings to stabilize his fall. He snarled down at me. “Bold words to hide thy weakness! Surely thy strength is flagging!” “I have strength enough to defeat thee!” Not that I would e’er admit it, but the spells I was using were quite taxing, and the one blow he’d stuck me had left my entire body aching. Not that I had any intention of allowing such to stop me. As he took to the skies I took advantage of the currents of hot and cold air flowing throughout the dueling field, whipping the air around him into a miniature maelstrom. More’s the pity, Veritanu managed to hold his course despite being buffeted by the winds. As he began his final charge towards me, I saw what I had been waiting for the entire duel. His so-called divine power was all but crackling off of him, and the flesh around his eyes and the wound in his chest was beginning to flake, as though his body was beginning to struggle to contain all the power channeled through it. I made my move, using a spell I had learned from the stallion who took me in as his apprentice once he saw my potential and raised me up from obscurity. I drew two more of the throwing darts Shadow had loaned me, these of considerably higher quality and carefully ensorcelled, with an adamantine chain strung between them. I hurled the weapons at him, watching as the two darts plunged into his wings while they were once more covered in thin flesh and feather rather than the resin and carapace that protected him whilst he was on the ground. As soon as the weapons struck home they turned and plunged towards the ground, the adamantine chain pulled Veritanu down as well, and pinned him down once their spikes plunged into the earth. I had dimly hoped that the attack might have sufficient force to slice the false god in half, and perhaps that would have been the case if not for his unnatural physiology. As it was, the chain pinning him in place was more than sufficient for my purposes. Veritanu’s eyes widened in shock as he realized his situation, and he let out a mighty roar as he struggled to free himself. He doubtless would given enough time, if only because the enchantments holding the spikes within the earth would eventually lose their strength. But then, I had no intention of giving him that time. In the aftermath of the civil war and facing that horror that was The Avatar of Nightmare Moon, I had put Magus Morning Star to the task of studying the Avatar, how it was made, and how we might prevent such creatures from coming into being. Or failing that, what weaknesses such abominations had that we might exploit. Though my concern at the time had been a new clash with Nightmare cultists, her findings applied just as well to other beings like the false gods of the Golden Path. Or at least, such was my theory. Despite the dull pain coursing through my body and the weariness of the battle, I smiled. I had very much been looking forward to this. “I see thee, false god. Let us pluck thee out of thy shell, so that all the world might see thee as thou truly art.” I cast my spell, targeting not Veritanu’s body, but the connection ‘tween his flesh and spirit that used it as host. ‘Twas not a spell I could have cast at any time, save when that connection was already so mighty that the flesh struggled to contain the power within it. All I needed to do was amplify that one small aspect, and the body began to destroy itself from within. That still left Veritanu’s spirit to contend with, but I had already taken other measures to address that. I smiled down at the thing that had once called itself a god as its flesh crumbled, now too weak to e’en cry out in protest as his long-delayed death claimed him. “Now, my lord, I will teach thee the price for reaching beyond thine ability. I asked thee before if a god can bleed and cry out in pain. Now I ask: Can a god die?” Veritanu gave me no answer. Or rather, he did not speak any words. His silence as his body crumbled into naught but dust was quite a sufficient answer to the question. Dead silence settled o’er the dueling ring, save for a pained groan as Silver Tithe sank to his knees, staring at what was left of his god as the wind scattered his ashes to the wind. Considering the circumstances, I could not resist a small measure of mockery. “Do not despair, ambassador. Thou art blessed. Few indeed are those who can say they were witness to the death of a god.” Doubtless Midnight would complain bitterly that I had denied her the chance to witness it. A shiver ran down Silver’s spine. “I do not ... how can this...” He turned to me, seeming like a lost child. “What do we do now?” I chuckled, though there was no humor or mirth in it. His master’s ashes had not e’en finished scattering, and already he searched for someone else to tell him what to think. Hopefully my answer would be of some use to him. “Thou must do what all who are free do. Decide upon thine own fate.” > The Golden Path 6 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- I returned to my tower once the immediate aftermath of the duel had been settled. With the thrill of battle long since faded, the minor wounds and bruises Veritanu had inflicted upon me had begun to feel far less minor. I might have allowed a medicae to see to me, but my wounds were not that severe and I had prepared for the possibility that I would need some treatment. I was not in the habit of allowing others to tend to my personal health when I was more than capable of doing so myself. Especially now that I was regent; ‘twould not do to have a common chirurgeon see me grunt and groan in pain. A regent must be above the frailties of mortality. As soon as I was safely within the privacy of my tower, I shed my robes and removed mine armor, letting out a soft groan with the mithril rings passed o’er a tender patch of flesh. The sound drew my daughter’s attention, and Midnight quickly came down from her room to seek me out. “Mother, are you well?” “Far better than Veritanu,” I answered pithily. I settled into my chair, letting out a grunt as my body protested the movement. “Couldst thou fetch me the green potion and poultice I laid out on my desk, child?” Midnight frowned at me for several seconds, her eyes carefully studying me as she took in the bruises that had begun to appear. Eventually, she relented and retrieved the items I had asked her for. “What happened?” “I was victorious, but the beast did manage to land a blow,” I answered, taking the items and making certain they were the correct ones. Not that I doubted my foresight or Midnight’s dutifulness, but better to waste the time of a second check than find myself accidentally consuming poison. Midnight looked me o’er once more. “Are you injured?” “Not in any way worth mentioning,” I assured her. “But I think I shall be quite sore for the next few days. Fortunately, there are solutions to that.” My daughter stared at me as I uncorked the potion bottle and drank deep of its contents. The liquid within tasted especially foul, but it should at least dull the ache spreading throughout my body. Once I was done, the next question came. “Did you destroy Veritanu?” “I did.” Midnight continued to stare at me, blinking very slowly, one eye slightly before the other. “Why am I not allowed to go into the basement?” I sighed. “Because I am in the midst of a project that should not be interrupted.” “What is that project?” “Something I would not want thee involved with, child.” I answered testily. “‘Tis not safe.” Midnight frowned at me. “That is vague and uninformative.” Her frown deepened. “Far too much for it to be unintentional. Why do you not wish for me to know what you are doing hidden away in your basement? I did assist you in constructing an especially elaborate magic circle. Is there some being captured within it? When I moved past the privacy spells you placed o’er the entrance I heard terrible screams. Pity I could not find my way past the lock upon the door to learn the cause of them.” “Did it not occur that I had locked the door for good reason?” I groused. “Thou art too curious for thine own safety, and if thou wilt not relent I shall be forced to take stronger measures so thou dost not pry into matters that should not concern thee.” Midnight tilted her head to the side. “Why do you refuse to allow me to know things? You have always said that learning would be to my advantage.” I sighed and suppressed the urge to snap at my daughter. Though her seemingly insatiable curiosity and refusal to accept anything other than an immediate and full answer to questions was often irksome, in this case the pain from my injuries was doubtless making me e’en more choleric than my usual custom. “Knowledge is good, but thou art yet a child and thy curiosity could lead thee to dangerous places.” Midnight slowly tilted her head to the opposite side as she considered this. “What sort of  danger? And what knowledge might be dangerous?” I began to long for silence. “I keep thee in ignorance to preserve thy safety. Telling thee the very secrets that could put thee in danger would defeat the purpose of that.” Now that the potion had begun taking effect, I set about applying the poultice to my wounds. Or at least, the ones I could easily reach. ‘Twas not long ere I found myself testing the limits of what I could see on my body. I could perhaps have used a mirror, but my daughter was present and would doubtless benefit from a task to occupy her o’er curious mind. “Apply this to my back where the bruises show, child.” My daughter let out an aggrieved sigh as though I had allowed myself to be injured simply to cause her this minor inconvenience. “Very well, Mother.” Despite the complaint, she set about tending my injuries with admirable efficiency. “I merely wish to know what unearthly screams echo from the basement and their origins.” I let out a soft sigh as the poultice began its work, gentle warmth soothing my sore muscles. “I will tend to that presently, child. And on the topic of dangerous curiosity, intruding upon what thou knowest to be an extremely powerful summoning circle containing a very angry entity would be an excellent example of such.” “I see.” My daughter remained silent for some time, evidently considering this new information. Mine answer must have satisfied her, given the change of topic when at last she asked her next question. “How did you defeat Veritanu? If I am to judge by all the preparations you made, ‘twas not simply a matter of setting him aflame and listening to his monstrous howls of agony as the stench of burning flesh assaulted your nostrils until at last pain and the destruction of his flesh o’erwhelmed him and broke all resistance.” I sighed and shook my head. “‘Twould take some time to explain the details of the spell to thee, and I am tired. Suffice to say I separated the spirit from the host.” I knew that answer would not satisfy her for long. “A more detailed lesson will come once I am rested.” My daughter nodded gravely. “I would like that. There may come a time when I too need to slay a false god, and ‘twould be wise to be prepared for such an eventuality.” She scowled petulantly. “Though I am greatly disappointed that I did not get to see a god die. ‘Twould have been a truly unique experience.” “‘Twas not so grand as thou wouldst hope,” I assured her. “Veritanu died the same as any other mortal, albeit with more difficulty on my part. Considering his minions took Mosaic as a hostage, I did not think it wise to have thee close to hoof whilst I slew their false god.” Midnight frowned, cocking her head to the side. “Would they risk kidnapping me in full view of the public in the middle of a duel?” “I thought it wiser not to give them the chance.” ‘Twould have been a gross violation of the rules of dueling and common decency that would have spelled doom for Veritanu and all who followed them, but why take the risk they would do something exceedingly foolish? Midnight sighed heavily. “But when else will I have the opportunity to see a god die?” I could not stop myself from smiling. “If the spell I used to destroy Veritanu becomes commonly known? Quite often, I should hope. And as a magus of Equestria, ‘tis only proper that I inform all other magi of the new spell I have created, and how it might best be used. It might e’en spread beyond our borders to other kingdoms.” My daughter stared at me unblinkingly. “Do the gods of the world offend you so gravely that you would show all the world how best to kill them?” “The world would certainly be better off without the likes of the Golden Path or the Avatar of Nightmare Moon,” I pointed out. “I cannot see how anything but good could come from the means to destroy them becoming common knowledge. Mayhaps ‘twill even break them of the delusion that they are divine beings.” A faint tremble shot down my daughter’s spine at the mention of the Avatar, and her expression hardened. “Will we be going to Freeport to cast down their false gods? Will we show them for the frauds they are while destroying them before all their worshippers, so that they may wail in despair at the uplifting disaster we have smote them with?” Tempting as the idea was... “Neigh, we have other responsibilities that preclude launching such a crusade, and the other nations would object to us launching a war of conquest against Freeport. For now, this defeat will be enough.” “I see.” Midnight frowned down at the floor. “Your brother should be free now? I should hope Veritanu’s followers do not subject him to some horrible fate as retribution for the death of their false idol.” Her gaze turned to me. “But doubtless you considered that possibility and have already taken action to address it. Perhaps relating to the cryptic message I conveyed to Lady Protector Shadow?” “Perhaps,” I allowed with an approving smile. My daughter was already developing a mind for devious maneuvering which would doubtless serve her well as she grew into her own. Ere my daughter could trouble me with further questions, the guest I had been eagerly awaiting knocked at the front door to my tower. The guards I had posted outside it since becoming regent would have kept out any who did not have legitimate business. I would have to see if I could persuade Her Majesty to continue allocating some to me once my time as regent was finished. In my youth I had foolishly believed that going unguarded showed confidence in mine own abilities. Now, I grasped the symbolic weight of such guards, as well as the fact that for all my power, I could be taken unawares. I quickly put my armor and robe back on, and checked the mirror to ensure that I once more looked the part of Regent Sunbeam. When I opened the door, I found both my brother and Mors Charger waiting on the other side. “Ah, good. Thy timing is impeccable, mercenary.” While my daughter did her best to peer at the two guests whilst I occupied the doorway, the one-eyed mercenary grunted and nodded. “I thought it best to comply with your wishes as precisely as possible. I certainly do not want to be on the bad side of a godslayer.” He snorted softly. “Not that I e’er believed them gods, but they are powerful.” “So they were,” I agreed. “Less so now that all the world has seen they are mortal.” I looked the mercenary o’er, considering my next words carefully. “Thy company can depart in peace. I trust thou wilt recall this mercy when the time comes.” “I will not forget,” Mors rumbled. “As I expect you will remember who brought your brother back when Silver wanted to avenge his fallen god.” He turned about and likely would have departed had I not spoken. “I am sure thou knowest that Celestia has offered a full pardon to any rebel soldiers who would swear loyalty to the crown once more, providing they were not guilty of foul or infamous crimes.” “I have heard.” Mors chuckled softly and shook his head. “Not to say I have ne’er been tempted, but what we have built in Freeport ... it may not be much, a pale reflection of a society that might have deserved to fall, but it is ours.” “Then make the most of it.” As the mercenary left, I felt a curious sort of kinship with him. Both of us had been born to low stations, yet seized greatness when the opportunity presented itself. A small part of me wished I could do as Mors had, set out to build something entirely of mine own making rather than help Celestia in creating her better Equestria. But ... neigh, a passing fancy. Equestria was better with me, and I better with it. With Mors departed, Mosaic shed his hooded cloak and strode into my tower. He shared much of my looks, though where the blue in my coat was so faint ‘twas often mistaken for white, Mosaic was indisputably blue. His orange mane simply mixed the colors of mine, and we shared green eyes, though I thought mine a touch more vibrant. His forelimbs were dotted with small scars and burn marks, much as our parents’ had been. The legacy of a lifetime spent handling and shaping molten glass. Midnight’s head slowly tilted to the side as she studied him. “I have many questions.” Mosaic’s attention remained upon me for the moment. When he spoke, there was a faint rasp to his voice that I did not recall at our last meeting, though that had been more than a decade ago. “I suppose I should thank you for my safety, though by all accounts I was only taken captive on your account.” His eyes flicked to Mors’s retreating form. “Still building alliances, I see.” “Always.” I quickly checked him for injuries. “Your involvement in this matter was unfortunate. I hope you are well enough?” Mosaic nodded sharply. “Aye, other than being held I was not mistreated. And you?” I shrugged. “A few minor scrapes from slaying the mercenaries' paymaster, but nothing that bears commenting on.” “I see.” He said nothing more. Neither did I. As the silence dragged onwards, I remembered why my visits to him and my parents had eventually ceased. Midnight took the silence as permission to indulge her curiosity. “You are mine uncle, yes?” Mosaic shifted his attention o’er to her. “Ah, the daughter I have heard much talk of. Aye, I am thy mother’s brother.” Midnight nodded gravely, then fixed him with an especially intense inquisitive stare. “I wish to know everything about you.” Mosaic shrugged. “Well, I suppose there is no harm is answering a few questions. I confess I have been a touch curious about thee as well.” I felt I should give him some knowledge of the forces he was playing with. “I should warn thee, when she says she wishes to know everything she is not jesting. If there is an end to her curiosity, I have yet to find it.” “And yet you always say that having more knowledge would be to my benefit so long as ‘tis not too dangerous for me,” Midnight countered with her typical willfulness ere she returned her attention to Mosaic. “What was it like growing up with Mother?” Mosaic shrugged. “I imagine much the same as any family, at least until she left. Though most fillies at her age would not be quite so...” He hesitated, searching for a word. “Well, she was already conjuring fires hot enough to make a few basic experiments with molten glass. Doubtless that is what brought her to the attention of the magi.” “I see.” Her eyes flicked to me. “Why did you ne’er tell me this, Mother?” I shrugged. “The details hardly seemed important, and my tale was far from atypical. I displayed magical prowess far beyond what would be expected of a child my age, and so drew the interest of a magus who made an apprentice of me.” “I see.” Midnight returned her attention to my brother. “Are you married? Do you have a family?” “I am, with two children.” A proud smile tugged at Mosaic’s lips. “Both fine young stallions who are learning their father’s trade.” Midnight’s stare grew e’en more intense. “Can I meet them?” Mosaic smiled and nodded. “I am sure we can arrange that. I would imagine they are equally curious about thee. I know I have faced my share of questions as Sunbeam’s star rose.” “It is always important to answer questions,” Midnight agreed with utmost gravity. “You own your own glassmaking shop, then?” “I do,” Mosaic confirmed. “A master glassblower and member of the guild’s council, in fact.” His eyes briefly flicked to me as he mentioned the latter. Doubtless he suspected the guild had offered him that promotion in the hopes that having my brother high in their ranks would offer them more influence, not to mention his shop had grown in prominence since mine own rise to power. The Sparkle family name certainly commanded more respect, and had made it far easier for both my father and my brother to secure loans to expand their business. Midnight nodded along. “I am glad to know our family has found success. May I see some of your works?” “Aye, certainly.” He glanced around my foyer. “Though if mine eyes do not deceive me, the glassware within this tower is the product of my shop.” “I would hardly settle for anything less than the best Canterlot offers,” I answered airily. “And regardless of any other factors, certain standards should be upheld.” A smile tugged and Mosaic’s lips. “In any case, Midnight, both you and your mother are welcome to visit my shop at your leisure. We do have a few things that are much more impressive than bowls and goblets.” I saw no reason not to accept the offer. Midnight plainly wished to be closer to her extended family, and in truth it had been far too long since I had properly visited my childhood home. “We can perhaps make time once Her Majesty has returned.” Mosaic slowly nodded. “Aye, that would be good. It has ... been a long time since we were a proper family.” “So it has,” I murmured, feeling strangely self-conscious. ‘Twas not a pleasant feeling. Midnight struck into the awkward silence with all the subtlety one might expect of an overly curious and willful child. “Why are you estranged? So far as I have heard, there was no great evil or terrible argument that led to the sundering of ties.” Tempted as I was to rebuke her, it seemed wiser to allow Mosaic to answer her. My brother let out a heavy sigh. “Because your mother and I lead very different lives. There was no place in hers for a glassblower, or in mine for a politician.” “My decisions have already caused thine uncle enough trouble as is,” I pointed out. “And this is not the first time he has suffered complications on mine account.” Mosaic shot a look my way, evidently surprised to hear my words. Though why should he be? ‘Twas no surprise that his shop’s fortunes had been indisputably influenced by mine own career. Several nobles who had long been clients now refused him any patronage, while others had now taken to purchasing from him as a statement of support for my policies. Troubles he could have done without when he would much prefer that his work was judged purely on its own merits. Still, it should hardly be surprising that I did not wish for such things. “‘Tis only natural that some of mine enemies would strike at my family merely to vex me, and I would prefer it if they did not see thee or thy family as a target. Thou hast little to do with the policies I promote, and I have no desire to see thee to suffer because of mine ambitions. I regret thine involvement in this matter, and the distress ‘twill doubtless cause thy family.” I shot a pointed look Midnight’s way. “Something my daughter should keep in mind.” Midnight frowned. “But you protected your brother from Veritanu, and doubtless made any others who thought to use him against you lament that choice.” “Aye,” I agreed. “But he should ne’er have been brought into these conflicts to begin with. That was Veritanu’s first error, and for that he suffered. The distance ‘tween us has offered him some measure of insulation from mine own actions.” Mosaic nodded. “I would certainly prefer not to be involved in such political affairs. I have troubles enough managing guild politics, I have no need to involve myself with the clashes of queens, nobles, and whate’er Veritanu was.” His gaze shifted to me once more. “Though I confess, I had not considered that you remained distant from me for that reason. I had thought it a matter of...” He trailed off uncertainly. “Shame?” I finished for him. “No. I have made no secret of mine origins. I simply know the life I have chosen and the life you have. We have little place in those lives for one another.” “I see.” My daughter’s ears fell flat against her skull, and her gaze dropped to the floor. “Then...” Mosaic cleared his throat. “Still ... e’en if a certain distance would be for the best, we need not be strangers.” “Aye, I am sure a balance could be struck.” I shrugged. “If naught else, my daughter and I could always make our visits discreet.” Midnight nodded and shared one of her unique smiles. “Aye, I can move most stealthily when the circumstances call for it. I would welcome the opportunity to know mine uncle, as well as his wife and their children.” “And I would like the opportunity to know thee better, niece,” Mosaid answered. “And thee as well, sister. Thou art ... not the mare I remembered from years ago.” “The one constant in this world is change,” I murmured, already considering how best to arrange the meeting we all desired. “I cannot say ‘twill be easy, nor can I undo the past, but if we wish to grow closer as a family we will find a way to make it happen.” Once we settled the matter of our family, Mosaic returned to his shop and the wife and children that were no doubt fearfully awaiting his return. I endured my daughter’s questions for some time afterwards, both on the matter of my duel with Veritanu and old history and family. Once I had finally set her to bed (barring the risk of her nightly curiosity) I could finally turn to the unresolved business in my basement. As I stepped past the protective spells and opened the doorway to see the circle once more, the being trapped within it let out a furious howl and slammed itself against the barrier. Despite the flashes of light and the creature’s berserk cries, my defenses did not e’en come close to breaking. Considering the time and funds I had invested into the circle, I would have been most surprised if it were anything less than perfect. Not that I would be in any position to complain of its failure if the being in question succeeded in escaping. Despite the dangers, I could not help but smirk as I strode into the room, watching as the ball of light and energy hammer itself futilely against my defenses. “Hello, Veritanu.” My spell had done a commendable job of sundering Veritanu from his host body, but that was only part of my goal. Given sufficient time, resources, and determination, the Golden Path doubtless could have recovered the wandering spirit and provided him with a new body. I was not in the habit of allowing mine enemies the freedom to return and seek vengeance against me, not to mention my family. Far wiser to end the matter here. “Thou wouldst dare?!” the formless spirit howled. “Thou wouldst dare imprison a god?! Thy suffering shall be legendary! Tales shall be sung of it a thousand years hence!” “There are few things less dignified than a god reduced to naught but hurling out empty bluster,” I commented. “What canst thou do?” Veritanu taunted. “Hold me here for a time? I shall escape soon enough, and once I do, all the world shall tremble to behold the vengeance I shall rain down upon thee!” “Perhaps thou couldst escape,” I conceded, though I judged that to be impossible without some outside aid. “But I do not intend to give thee the opportunity to do. This will be thine end, false god. All thy power shall be sundered, and what remains will not be enough to hurt a fly.” “Never!” Veritanu howled. “I am the very incarnation of truth and justice! Thou couldst ne’er destroy such as me!” He was not entirely wrong. The complete destruction of spiritual entities like Veritanu was not possible through any known spell. Howe’er, there were a great many things short of destruction one could suffer. “Thou wilt surrender thy power to me. All that the Golden Path made of thee, anything beyond thy most basic essence. Then, and only then, will whate’er remains of thee be granted leave to depart.” Though Veritanu’s utter destruction would have been preferable, his complete neutering and claiming that stolen power for myself seemed the next best alternative. Due care would need to be taken to ensure that there was no possibility of corruption, but I had the false god as a prisoner and completely within mine own power. There would be time enough to ensure I was at no risk. Mayhaps purging the spirit of the dark powers the Golden Path had granted it would even be to its ultimate benefit. Supposedly the beings that had become the false gods had once truly been benevolent entities embodying the virtues they now made a mockery of. If that were indeed the case, then whate’er would eventually be reborn from the shattered remnants of Veritanu would be more like its original self, and less the abomination the Golden Path had made it. The possibility of Veritanu’s reformation into a less wicked being was at best a secondary goal; far more important would be that whate’er this new creature would be, ‘twould be a great many years ere the spirit truly gained cohesion. If ‘twere benevolent, so much the better. If the new Veritanu sought vengeance, ‘twould be much diminished and at the earliest would be a threat to Midnight’s grandchildren in their old age. First, howe’er, I needed to break Veritanu’s will. The spirit certainly had no intention of cooperating. “Surrender my power to thee?” the spirit snarled incredulously. “I would ne’er do such a thing!” “Then thou wilt remain here for a very long time indeed,” I countered. “So be it!” Veritanu snapped. “I am an immortal, a god! Hold me for the entire span of thy life, ‘twill be naught but the blink of mine eye! In time, all that thou hast wrought will be lost, and yet I shall remain. E’en after a thousand generations, I would not bend to thy will.” “Mayhaps not, if all I had to persuade thee were boredom.” I drew out the first of several scrolls I had prepared especially for this occasion. Scrolls with Veritanu’s true name written upon them. Or rather, very slight variations upon that name. To know a spirit’s true name gave a measure of influence o’er it, and there were few things more unpleasant to them than to hear that true name mangled and misshapen. Doubtless my detractors would make mocking comment on the fact that I had somehow found a way to torment a creature that had no body and was incapable of feeling pain or any other physical sensation. “Thou wouldst defy me for a thousand generations?” I mocked. “I think we shall see if thou canst endure e’en a thousand minutes.” He did not. The next few weeks of my regency were far less exciting. ‘Twould seem that Veritanu’s demise sufficed to put an end to any notions of challenging my right to the throne. Certainly watching me end a god was more than sufficient to intimidate a few pampered nobles who had yet grasped that the new Equestria had no need of them and their ilk. Pity I would not be able to abolish the class entirely within my lifetime, but at least I had laid the foundations for future generations to finish the task. I was hard at work going o’er official documents and letters before affixing both the royal seal and mine own to each of them. One of the more tedious aspects of leadership, but only a fool attaches their personal seal as well as that of the crown to an unread document. ‘Twould not do to accidentally sign away a portion of the royal demesne. I was an hour into that work when somepony knocked upon the door to mine office. As Midnight would likely not have concerned herself with such courtesies and the hour was relatively late, it would have been either a guest or messenger of some importance. “Enter.” A pegasus mare I did not recognize strode in. Her armor marked her as one of the Kickers, as did her significant height. “Regent Sunbeam, I have a message from Queen Celestia.” “Ah, good.” I set the paperwork aside for the moment. “Set it down then.” Rather than setting down a letter or scroll, the soldier stood perfectly still. There was a sudden flash of light, and when it cleared, Queen Celestia stood before me, her disguise shed and a knowing smile on her lips. “Greetings, my regent.” I suppose I should have been surprised by my queen’s sudden appearance, but I had suspected she would return in such a manner. Thankfully she had not chosen to engage in something far more public, like revealing herself before the entire court. “Your Majesty,” I greeted with a wry smile. “Not quite the return I was expecting from you, but I imagine you will be making a much more glamorous official return on the morrow.” The Queen dipped her head, acknowledging my point. “I thought I would make an unofficial visit to make sure I was up to date and give you a bit of time to prepare for the transition of power.” “Naturally.” I shifted the paperwork back a touch more. Let her go through it all if she was returned. “I trust the hunt for the Blightspawn went well, then?” “Aye, the nests are no more and all the beasts we could find have been seen to.” A faint frown flicked across her lips. “Blackfyre naturally denied any involvement, and the wards we have o’er his lair were not tripped. It might well have just been a few survivors from the war as he claimed. Howe’er...” “From all I have read he was a canny foe.” Though I fully grasped Celestia’s reasons for letting him surrender rather than drag out a long and costly war, the elder dragon’s survival sat ill with me. Intelligence, ruthlessness, and immortality were a very dangerous combination of traits for one’s enemies to possess. “If he had any scheme, ‘tis thwarted for now.” I smiled at my queen. “And it is good to have you back.” Her Majesty returned my smile. “It is good to be back. I admit, I dearly missed my home. ‘Tis good to leave every so often and see the world more often, I seem to recall a certain advisor chiding me for isolating myself too much from my subjects. Howe’er after the battles in Northmarch, I think I have earned a measure of rest in Canterlot. I hope thy last few weeks were not near as eventful as mine.” I settled back in my chair, considering how best to put it. “We have had our share of excitement, but nothing your regent could not see to.” “I had every confidence thou wouldst rise to the occasion.” Her eyes flicked to the stack of papers that awaited her. “So what transpired while I was away? By thy words, I presume you faced far greater dangers than papercuts.” “There was a minor incident with the Golden Path.” I chose my next words carefully. “The false gods of Freeport sent one of their own here, demanding that we release the smuggling ship our customs agents captured. When I refused to bow to his whims, he threw a tantrum and challenged me to a duel, ignoring all the rules of diplomacy and hospitality. I think poor Ambassador Tithe was embarrassed by his god’s behavior. Regardless, Veritanu died at my hooves for his error.” By the end of it Celestia’s eyebrows had risen quite a bit, and a hint of disapproval tugged at her lips. “I see. Well, other than slaying a visiting head of state, didst thou do anything else of note?” “Quite a few other less exciting matters.” I shrugged. “I thought you would prefer to know of the most important events first. I imagine Ambassador Tithe will have something to say on the matter once he learns of your return.” “Doubtless he will.” The Queen frowned at me. “What did he do to provoke thee? And do not try to say that ‘twas entirely his own doing, I know thee too well to believe that.” I saw no reason not to tell her the truth, and would not have lied to my queen regardless. “When I refused his attempt at diplomacy, the false god took my brother as a hostage and threatened his life if I would not meet his demands.” “Ah.” Her frown did not fade, but after a few seconds she sighed and shook her head. “I wish it would not have come to something like this.” I was in no mood to endure a lecture delivered from hindsight. “Is that so? You have no love for the abominations of the Golden Path. Or hostage-takers. Should I have humiliated both the throne and myself merely to spare the life of a being who deserved his doom many times o’er?” The Queen held up a hoof to cut me off. “I think you mistake my meaning, Sunbeam. I regret Veritanu’s death as I would that of any intelligent being, not to mention the complications that will doubtless arise from him passing. Who can say how the Golden Path will react to the loss of one of their gods, especially at the hands of a mortal mage. Much trouble may arise from this, and all of it could have been avoided all too easily.” I opened my mouth to object, but she spoke o’er me. “By Veritanu, not by thee. The crown cannot bend to the whims of a criminal who takes hostages. Though ‘tis a pity it came to violence, he was the one responsible for it.” “That he was.” Not that I had especially objected to the chance to slaughter a false god. “In any case, I should think I managed the regency admirably.” Her Majesty smiled and chuckled softly. “As confident in thyself as always, I see.” I answered her smile with one of mine own. “And why should I not be?” “That is the question,” Celestia agreed. “From all thou hast said, thou wert quite capable of serving as a fine regent. Shadow certainly did not dispute that account.” Ah. So she had visited Shadow first. I might have known. “You named me as regent precisely because I would reign best, no?” The Queen smiled down at me. “Dost thou think I would make anypony my regent if I did not have confidence they would be capable?” “I ne’er imagined you would choose someone less than capable,” I agreed. After a few seconds of thought, I did voice what had lingered long within my mind. “Although ... I did perhaps wonder why you chose me. Not that I lack for qualifications to hold the post; I am an expert at statecraft and would know how you would wish to rule far better than most. Howe’er, Shadow could perform much the same task and is clearly your favorite.” “Is that jealousy I hear in thy voice?” Celestia probed with a wry grin. “‘Twould hardly be proper for a queen to play favorites or set her two closest advisors against one another. But to answer thy question, while I think Shadow could do the task and do it well if given to her, I severely doubt she would enjoy the duty. I fear what would happen to anypony who came to court after she had been forced to mediate several disputes among especially petty and vexatious petitioners. She has a very low tolerance for the more foolish aspects of Court.” Ah. I had long suspected that Shadow’s claims she was no politician could be more accurately rendered as saying that she had an extremely low tolerance for the follies of politics. “Aye, I suspect that if forced to listen to two stuffed-up fools arguing o’er ancient claims for hours, she would eventually decide to seize the land for the crown as neither of them seemed capable stewards, and order both of them flogged for wasting her time.” “She does not suffer fools as well as we do.” Her eyes flicked to me. “Or is at least less subtle than thou in thy retribution. ‘Twould be best if I did not return to find the heads of half Equestria’s nobles mounted on stakes o’er the palace gates.” I did not entirely agree that Equestria would be worse for such a change, but I knew Her Majesty would not approve of such sentiments. Mass executions do tend to unsettle the masses and cause no small amount of terror and instability, regardless of how justified they might be. “Neigh, that is the outcome all expect of me.” Celestia shook her head. “And yet but a single death in mine absence, and that of a foreign tyrant rather than one of our own. I do hope they appreciate thy remarkable restraint.” She leaned in and privately whispered. “‘Tween just the two of us, while I do not entirely agree with thine assessment of the class as a whole, there are certainly individuals within it who make a very good case for the nobility’s complete abolition.” Too right they did. The remnants of House Line remained especially vexatious. I had pushed Her Majesty to strip the house of all lands and titles for their patriarch’s treason, but she felt it wrong to wholly dispossess members of the family who had no involvement in the crime. Howe’er, now was not the time to drag up old arguments. “Half of them seemed convinced the regency was a lie and I had murdered you to seize the throne for myself.” Not that any of them had dared say so within my hearing, especially after Veritanu’s doom. The Queen let out a soft snort and shook her head. “Ponies have a way of making up all sorts of stories. The things I heard while in the North ... let us say that rumors are already wild, and once they have passed through enough mouths to reach Northmarch, they are impressive works of fiction. Perhaps once matters are properly settled I can share a few of the most fanciful with thee and Shadow. We could do it during one of our nightly romps, after the two of thee reveal thy status as hidden stallions and my secret lovers.” I scoffed. “That sounds remarkably tame. I shall see if I can schedule some time between plotting with foreign powers and all your past, present, and future enemies, selling my soul to all the demons in the world, seducing the High King of Gryphonia, and keeping the sun carefully hidden ‘neath my robes whene’er ‘tis not in the sky.” Celestia and I shared a laugh at the foolishness of such tales. “Regardless of the fanciful tales swirling about thee, I would like to thank thee for thy service in acting as my regent. There were challenges far beyond what I expected thee to face, and thou didst an admirable job of it. I think if duty calls me away again I shall be far more willing to leave, for I know that my subjects will be in capable hooves.” I ducked my head, not quite a proper bow but I would hardly stand up just to lower myself once more. “My thanks, Your Majesty.” Celestia took a deep breath, and when she spoke there was a weight to her words. “I think that mayhaps there are truths ‘tis past time I shared with thee. When I first met thee, I thought thee to be a vicious, cold-hearted, evil mare who thought only of expanding her own power. Howe’er, that was long ago, and much has happened since then to give me a better understanding of thee. Thou hast proven to be unflinchingly loyal to me and Equestria, even when it might have been easier or dearly tempting to betray me for thine own advancement. And I have also come to see thy virtues, as well as thy flaws.” I was silent for some time after she finished. There was a great deal to take in. “Those ... are not words I had e'er expected to hear from thee.” I quickly corrected myself. “You. My apologies.” “Thou hast earned my words.” Celestia murmured. “And with how long and closely we have known one another, I think we need not stand on formality. At least so long as we are not in full view of the public.” She chuckled softly. “Honestly, considering some of the arguments we have had, I am surprised you feel the need to address me formally. But then, I imagine to thee such arguments were always part of thy service.” I shrugged. “I would be a poor advisor if I did not warn thee when thou wert in error. Though I suppose at times I let my passions get the better of me.” “Something we have all been known to do in the midst of a heated discussion.” Celestia smiled at me. “And I think if thou wert less passionate, thou wouldst not be such a useful advisor. Not to mention that thy daughter, Shadow, and myself have had our influence on thee.” A recent conversation had shed some fresh light on that. “Aye, mine own brother said I was much changed from the mare he knew when we were young.” “Time has a way of changing us all,” Celestia agreed. “And for thee, those changes have been for the better. Maturity suits thee, Sunbeam.” Her eyes flicked o’er me, and a mischievous light entered them. “‘Twould seem thou art in agreement, if thy current manner of presenting thyself is anything to judge by. If thou wilt forgive me for saying so, ‘tis a quite becoming look.” “Thank you, Your Majesty.” I smoothed out my robes. “Though I initially chose it to appear a more proper regent, I think I might keep it for occasions when I need to look a proper statesmare. Of course, there will be times when my beauty, wisdom, or deadliness ought to be emphasized instead. Howe’er, such a change is relatively minor.” “Thou art quite the master of appearances, Sunbeam.” Her Majesty chuckled softly. “Perhaps I should seek advice from thee on that topic someday. Though I would say that I have no shortage of experience with change and reinventing myself. I am certainly not the mare I was a century ago. Or before I met thee.” She smiled and set a hoof on my shoulder. “Aye, thou hast had an influence. Thou hast certainly challenged my views on any number of topics, which can be nicely refreshing.” “I should hope so.” I smiled proudly as my thoughts turned to Midnight. “As I always tell my daughter, all views must be challenged. Those that are wanting can be revealed, while those that are true grow all the stronger for it.” Celestia nodded approvingly. “You have taught her well, e’en if encouraging her curiosity and tendency to ask questions has occasionally vexed us all. Still, I like to think I am stronger for having met thee. If naught else, I am far more able to articulate why my desires for harmony are better for Equestria. And ... mayhaps there are times when I need an advisor who is willing to challenge me. I can make an error as easily as any other pony. I am a better queen with thou at my side, Sunbeam Sparkle.” I felt a curious sort of thrill in the pit of my stomach. I think ‘twas ... vindication. “Then I have achieved all I sought to as thy grand vizier.” “I am glad to hear it.” She smiled down at me. “Well, I hope thou art willing to hand back the reins of power. I should be most upset if you intend to murder and depose me after we had such a lovely talk.” I scoffed and shook my head. “Not that I did not enjoy the opportunity to see what I might achieve in your absence, but just as I have made you stronger, so you have made me stronger. I am a better chancellor and mare for knowing you.” I took a deep breath. “I know that you think I am ... damaged. If that be so, then who better than you to make me whole?” Celestia gently set a hoof upon my shoulder. “We all have our flaws, Sunbeam. What matters is whether or not we seek to rise above them. I think there is a reason thou hast made such a study of honor, ethics, and morality, e’en if thou dost not agree with them. Why thou hast attached thyself to me. Thou art a driven mare, and not one to tolerate foolishness or willful weakness, least of all in thyself. Much as thou wouldst address a flaw in thy spellcasting technique, thou hast made a study of compensating for and working around the affliction within thy spirit. I cannot say that thou art the most virtuous mare I know, but thou hast devoted considerable efforts to bettering thyself. That speaks well of thee indeed.” I felt a curious sort of relief. I suppose a part of me had always been troubled by the thought that Celestia judged me as mad or at least badly flawed. As she said, I had little tolerance for any weakness within myself. To know that in her eyes I had done much to address that was ... I could not quite put the sensation into words, but ‘twas pleasant. “That is so? It is one thing to have flaws, and another to refuse to acknowledge or address them.” “Something thou hast done as well as thou couldst.” She rested a wing upon my back. “Though I have no intention of leaving the capital again any time soon, if I must I will do with every confidence that thou wilt watch o’er my ponies well in my absence.” I bowed my head to her once more. “Thank you, Your Majesty.” She held up a hoof. “Now now, I am not officially returned yet, and I have already said that we need not stand on formality when ‘tis but the two of us. I think we must spend at least some time taking advantage of these unique circumstances. I have a few thrilling and frivolous tales of my time in Northmarch, and I should hope thou wouldst do me the favor of sharing some of thy stories as well.” We did precisely that for hours. ‘Twas perhaps the first time in all the years I had known her when Celestia was not my queen, but ... dare I say, my friend.