Unsigned message deciphered by Diarchy codebreakers, delivered secretly by a Paladin during a brief visit while accompanying Saint Rainbow Dash
General,
The Saints bless all, but bestow the greatest power to those who can anticipate and act in accordance to their will without needing to be told.
Your predecessors have all sat idly by as heretic ponies at your borders plant their insidious roots, content merely to defend. But you aren’t like them, are you? Your acumen is higher, and the Saints will witness it, much as they acknowledged mine and made me one of their Paladins.
Seek those like-minded, and together you can triumph. Follow your heart’s ambition, and be rewarded beyond your wildest imagination. Stop waiting, and do what those less faithful won’t.
Your country will thank you for it.
Wispy clouds whipped past high in the sky above Emberglow as she and Rarity continued to soar south. They’d been flying for some time already, but between some convenient updrafts and their steady pace, they weren’t tiring much.
As her mind threatened to wander to uncomfortable places, Emberglow fidgeted with the sleeves of her Discordant robes, finding the familiar fabric small comfort. She preferred these to her armor, at any rate.
The twin Knights Resplendent accompanying them - literally, as they were identical twin sisters - contrasted in their more striking armor. Rarity, meanwhile, was unclothed. Her “adventuring suit,” she called it.
Rarity had really come into her own these past few years. The confused mare out of time was now the confident, courtly, and composed co-ruler of an entire nation. Sometimes Emberglow even marveled that she had such an incredible mare as her partner.
She wondered what was going through Rarity’s mind right now. Wordlessly, Emberglow watched Rarity, hoping for some acknowledgement.
Rarity, catching her expression out of the corner of her eye, looked back with gentle eyes and a winning smile. Emberglow smiled back.
Soon, they were close enough to the mountain to make out the individual buildings in the mostly reclaimed city. There was the palace and its surrounding buildings in the complex, worn white stones shining in the daylight. However, as she and Rarity passed over the city streets, Emberglow noticed that the usual forms of ponies going about their business within the city walls were curiously absent.
Alarm bells went off in her head.
Emberglow turned, shooting Rarity a look of concern. “Of all the times I’ve visited as ambassador to Old Canterlot it was never this empty. Something’s off. Do you think it could be…?”
Rarity’s eyes only betrayed an unwavering determination. “If there is a duplicitous Saint in the city, so be it. There’s nothing we can’t face together, right?”
Like magic, Emberglow was reinvigorated, buoyed by her wife’s reassurance. “Right.”
Wind Tunnel and Wind Chime, their guards, also, smiled.
Emberglow shook her head to banish her remaining doubts, and the four of them broke off into a glide, descending into Old Canterlot. The sun cast jagged shadows upon the scene where it hit the myriad crumbling spires of the city.
Beneath those shadows, Emberglow discovered where all the creatures had gone. A large crowd of ponies and other creatures were amassed in Cathedral Row.
Still, she couldn’t help but notice Rarity’s impressed expression out of the corner of her eye. “Oh my, how lovely. They’ve built a veritable melting pot of worship. You can clearly appreciate each group’s distinct cultural values from the architecture. And that crystal tree transplant in the middle must be the memorial you’ve told me about, darling.”
“It is,” Emberglow replied, her thoughts elsewhere. She had planted that tree herself, to remember Flurry Heart. And Bubblegum. “As much as I’d enjoy giving you a tour, now’s not the time. We need to investigate.”
“Quite so. Saints or no, something notable is certainly transpiring, to occupy the attention of so many,” Rarity commented, her gaze fixed down below. “No sense in dallying.”
“Yes,” Emberglow said, before adding, “Let’s keep to the back at first.”
“A good idea. I wouldn’t want to derail proceedings with my presence,” Rarity noted, sounding a bit coy.
Emberglow failed to hold back a giggle. It was the small things.
Still, Rarity was back to business shortly, and she turned to their guards. “We’re ready. Please take the lead and cover us.”
Wind Chime and Wind Tunnel both nodded before descending.
Course set, they carefully banked towards street level in a wide arc. Emberglow kept her good eye fixed on the assembled creatures. They were all bunched together in a thick semicircle centered on the least visually impressive but most inviting of the Row’s constructions, tiers of wooden benches dug out of the earth forming a small storytelling amphitheater, the centerpiece of bat pony faith.
The seats were packed, so a good chunk of the surrounding hoof-worn road was further occupied by compressed bodies nudging and jostling each other for better views.
At least, she hoped that was why they were shoving each other.
Due to their low approach, Emberglow was unable to make out the figures in the middle. But as she got closer, she was able to recognise a good number of familiar faces, including old schoolmate Astrolabe, Grand Master Ambrosia of the Radiant, and many of the Knights Angelic escorting her.
However, the blood rushed out of Emberglow’s face when she spotted her parents Textile and Needle Point sitting opposite them on the far side of the amphitheater.
Memories of crushing past visits to their new shop in the city flooded back. Her tail twitched as her hooves contracted into her barrel. Her teeth clenched behind her lips.
Noticing, ever attentive as she was, Rarity hummed reassurance. “What is it?”
After a beat, Emberglow said only, “My parents are here.”
Rarity hummed in sympathy, her expression firm. “We don’t need their approval. We’re adults, too,” she stated plainly.
Emberglow sighed, letting her emotions escape with her breath. That pressure wasn’t healthy. “Well, whatever this commotion is, it’d have to be big to get Mom and Dad to leave the store at this hour,” she noted.
“You’d know better than I would,” Rarity replied. “I can only recognize a scant few faces.”
Nodding once, Emberglow bled off her remaining speed and touched down softly behind the twins, Rarity landing by her side with a sweep of her elegant wings. As Rarity perked her ears, straining to hear through the susurrus of the townsfolk, Emberglow gestured to the most knowledgeable pony with room nearby: Grand Master Ambrosia.
The four of them quickly walked up to her, the Knights all exchanging perfunctory acknowledgements. Casting a furtive look through the crowd, Emberglow spoke up. “Grand Master. Apologies for the interruption, but, uh, what’s going on?”
Ambrosia didn’t flinch, instead pivoting around smoothly to face her before replying. “Ambassador Emberglow. Lady Rarity. Some strange ponies arrived out of the blue a while ago, calling themselves Saints and reciting scripture. Then everypony else started showing up, half to listen, the other half to argue. Frankly, I’m still unsure what to make of them, exactly.”
It looked like Heartwing’s contacts had been right on the money. “That’s why we’re here as well, to see for ourselves,” Emberglow explained. “Evidently we aren’t the only ones.”
“Have you seen them?” Rarity asked. “Are they truly so convincing that Knight and commoner alike would believe my friends have somehow come back to life after over a thousand years?”
“It’s not just your old friends: One of them is the spitting image of you, Princess Rarity,” Ambrosia said through pursed lips. “She’s claiming that the princess is the fake between them.”
Rarity’s tail swished back and forth in contemplation, her eyebrow practically shooting into her mane. “Is she, now?” Rarity slowly said.
“But all they’ve done so far is preach, right?” Emberglow inquired. “These Saints haven’t instigated any violence?”
“No, Emberglow, they’re still just debating theology,” Ambrosia confirmed. “Creatures are starting to get riled up, though. Listen.”
Emberglow did, going still as she strained her ears to pick out the individual speakers. “— cannot truly expect us to believe you, right?” exclaimed a mare with a faint lisp that identified her as a bat pony. “Besides, Rarity was already found!”
“Regardless, we are here. And we have forever served the Diarchs. Only by their grace have we returned to preach the truth.”
Emberglow stiffened. That voice! It sounded exactly like Rarity’s! She turned, wide-eyed, to look at her wife. Rarity’s own expression had morphed into something inscrutable.
“But why now, though, my Saints?” asked a young stallion in marine fatigues. “We could have used your wisdom years ago, before the revolt!”
It was not this Saint Rarity who replied, but a different mare, one with an odd accent, one which tickled with familiarity at the edge of Emberglow’s memory. “You may not understand yet, but a greater crisis yet looms, and now is the time to prevent it. Have faith in us.”
Rarity’s eyes widened in recognition, but she stayed quiet. Ambrosia, meanwhile, was eying them inquisitively.
“Tell us more about this crisis,” someone demanded.
At this point, Emberglow couldn’t contain her curiosity any longer, the need for understanding overwhelming her remaining patience. Without wasting any more time, she began squeezing her way towards the center of the semicircle and into the amphitheater proper, gently pushing past ponies who were too focused on the speakers to object. Soon, she got close enough to see.
Emberglow froze.
It was a second Rarity.
The resemblance was uncannily exact, save for her complete lack of a horn and wings. It was as if someone had plucked the Saint version of her wife right out of the collective imaginations of everypony who had ever read the Book of the Saints.
Standing next to Saint Rarity was the spitting image of the very mare who had bestowed Emberglow’s Element upon her. This Applejack had the same tied back, hay-yellow mane, and the same rich orange coat as the earth pony Emberglow had met once in that plane beyond. The only thing missing was her weathered hat. Instead, both she and Saint Rarity were clad in iridescent, single-sleeved robes the likes of which Emberglow had never seen.
Her jaw slowly hinged open. The very idea of someone impersonating her wife, using her name to act in a way she never would, had already filled her with discontent, but actually seeing the impostor was another beast entirely.
How was this possible?
Emberglow stood there, her jaw working to find an objection. Too many words wanted to escape at once, her mental and emotional gears catching and putting her at a frustrating loss.
Rarity pushed past her on her right and into the open with purpose and poise, the familiar, calming contour of her wings brushing against hers. Emberglow’s confidence returned as she stopped to watch.
“Oh my goodness, that iridescent fabric is simply stunning!” she declared, interrupting the Saints. Her eyes gleamed with wonder for a moment as she studied their outfits. But that wonder faded as she lifted her focus to the mare sharing her face. “However, that loose-fitting cut died with ancient Roam,” she continued, gesturing dismissively with a wing as her brows creased. “It’s prone to bunching up and wholly unflattering to the figure. If you’re trying to impersonate me, you’re doing a mediocre job of it.”
Immediately, the onlookers burst into a minor fervor.
“It’s the princess!”
“I’m seeing double!”
“Oh boy, here we go.”
“Now things are getting interesting.”
Emberglow’s heart was starting to race, and her focus bounced between the Saints, Rarity, and the awe on numerous faces. Even Emberglow’s parents bore resentment and lingering pain on their faces. The conflict in her chest tied her tongue, her legs stiff.
“If it isn’t one of the heretic ‘princesses’ of the Crystal Empire,” Saint Rarity noted with a hint of disgust. “A mare whose very body exhibits her hubris.”
Rarity barked out a laugh, holding a hoof to her chest. “I’m the one showing hubris? You, with the audacity to pretend to be a version of me that never existed?”
“Yeah, who are you, really?” cried a pony in the crowd.
“It’s not audacious, it’s the truth,” Saint Applejack stated plainly. “Meanwhile, you are the one whose existence is impossible. Ours is backed up by numerous historical records.”
“That’s a load of rubbish and you know it!” Rarity snapped, her temper clearly fraying already. “I was never an earth pony to begin with!”
“No, you’re the fake! Arrest her!” a stallion in a blue tunic pointed, practically leaping from his seat. When Wind Tunnel forced her way toward him, interposing herself between him and Rarity, other ponies glared.
“Oh, be quiet,” Astrolabe interjected, somewhere to Emberglow’s left with a pointed look down her muzzle. “I know petty when I see it.”
“Seconded,” said Ambrosia, who had pushed through the edge of the crowd herself by now and was struggling to observe the situation dispassionately, her tail swaying to betray her building agitation.
“Screw you, winged freak! That’s proof enough!”
“Why’re you here, anyway?”
“Yeah, leave us be!”
“Let the Saints speak, abomination!”
Emberglow suddenly realized exactly how to play this. “Forget these meaningless accusations!” she cried, cutting through the chain of disdain. “It’s simple. Whoever has more wisdom for every creature is the real Rarity,” she declared, head held high.
It might exacerbate the conflict, but at least this would give Rarity more openings to say her piece. Emberglow could see tensions were slowly heating up. Necks strained high over shoulders, more seated ponies were rising, harsh whispers echoed in the confines, body heat stifling even in the mountain air, even as the sun was partially shaded by the spires of the Row around them.
If anyone could keep this pot from boiling over, it was Rarity.
“Oh? And what might those ‘teachings’ be?” Saint Applejack said, looking down her nose at Emberglow, even though she stood below her in the bowl of the theater. “The same paranoid rhetoric that destabilized an entire nation, plunging it into chaos?”
Rarity grit her teeth in frustration. “That wasn’t me, that was Steadfast Word’s doing!” She paused, taking a deep breath and bouncing the coif of her mane. “As princess, I follow in Twilight Sparkle’s hoofsteps and endeavor to spread friendship to all.”
“‘All,’ you say?” cried an old mare wearing a full-length frock. “Including monstrous beasts like griffons and dragons?”
“Watch your tongue, mare!” shouted a black-coated griffon by the back wall. The pair glared at each other in contempt.
Rarity held up a hoof, Wind Chime leaning to the side to make space. “In the Crystal Empire, people don’t need to hide who they are, or who they love! All races are treated with fairness, dignity, and respect. The same cannot be said here.”
A wing snapped. “Of course not!”
A hoof stomped. “Some races simply do not belong in polite society!”
A voice cracked. “We can’t trust you!”
For each loyalist rejection came a counter from one of Emberglow’s comrades.
From Wind Chime: “She has every right to speak!”
From the griffon: “Strive for Harmony, hypocrite!”
From one of the Knights Angelic: “Keep it civil, or we’ll remove you from our city!”
The rising tension made Emberglow reel as the crowd buzzed and vibrated like a wasp’s nest, liable to unleash a frenzy of stings at the slightest provocation. A seed of fear planted itself in her gut.
Meanwhile, Saint Rarity was an ocean of calm in the storm as she made eye contact with Rarity. “These responses illustrate our judgment clearly. So long as there is disunity amongst people, there will be fear. Griffons, dragons, these creatures have a right to live in happiness like ponies do, but that happiness is best found among their own kin.”
Emberglow snorted at that. “Why did you paint other races - even unicorns and alicorns - as totally inequine, then?”
The corners of Rarity’s lips turned up in approval, beaming briefly at Emberglow in pride before facing the Saints. “I’ll tell you why; it’s because the Book of the Saints was written as nothing more than propaganda by a spiteful, power-hungry mare.”
“Exactly,” Emberglow added. “You’re just trying to smooth the edges off her vitriol.”
More ponies objected to her words. Emberglow hadn’t expected any different at this point, and she tried to tune it out and focus on those she knew nearby instead. Astrolabe was looking equally uncomfortable and overwhelmed, though to a lesser extent than Emberglow felt. Only her locked knees gave it away. Grand Master Ambrosia, meanwhile, showed only a deep concern.
“Not only that; why persecute ponies for being different?” Rarity was ignoring the interjected commentary and press of bodies around her to focus solely on the Saints. “We are all unique individuals to begin with; our Cutie Marks attest to that! Confining every last pony inside the same heterosexual, cisgender box and throwing them into a literal box if they try to leave is simply not healthy!”
“You tell ‘em! Let ponies choose!”
“But that’s heresy!”
“We’re not here to discuss that,” interjected Saint Applejack matter-of-factly, the loyalists quieting as she raised a hoof. “But we can if you’d like.”
“Don’t just let that slide.”
“Reprimand those fools!”
Emberglow turned to Rarity, who was also peeking sidelong at her. The look in her wife’s eyes was firm. They could counter any argument thrown at them, certainly, but did they want to, or should they encourage the Saints to cut to the chase?
Before Emberglow could decide, Saint Applejack chose for them. “The short answer is that the Diarchs do not actually object to same-sex or interracial relationships. They merely wished to quash the fear of difference and the violence that brings. The sin in these actions is only in the strife they invite, not in the actions themselves.”
The uproar from both sides was nearly deafening. Emberglow’s ears pinned to her skull reflexively. Their Knights immediately moved to protect them, same as with Ambrosia and hers. Surrounded by a sudden cacophony, Emberglow froze, only able to watch as the marine stallion from before burst from his seat and surged towards the Saints.
Before he could get close, a figure lunged out of the narrow, shadowy alleyway behind the amphitheater. They were at least twice Emberglow’s height, with spindly limbs that looked gangly and unsettling, yet they moved swiftly. With a single monochromatic, metallic arm, they held the marine back, humbly shaking their head ‘no’. On their temples, the number twelve was printed.
Presumably, this was one of the Paladins Emberglow had heard about, a direct protector of the Saints.
And thank goodness both sides had security personnel ready to de-escalate, Emberglow thought. This was already teetering on the knife's edge of turning into a full-blown riot, and the Saints hadn’t even gotten to whatever “revelation” they were presumably here to share! She could acutely feel the adrenaline in her veins.
Rarity visibly flinched in surprise, her expression aghast. Emberglow had no clue if this was a reaction to the ponies’ aggressive behavior or the Paladin’s somewhat ghastly appearance. Probably both.
The combination of the Paladin’s arrival and a pair of disapproving furrowed brows from the Saints managed to slowly return everyone back to at least the facade of calm, at least.
Saint Rarity took a breath. “It seems many of you have unfortunately misinterpreted the intent of our doctrine. Ponies are creatures of harmony by nature; prone to ostracize or even force out anyone who does not conform with the community. We only wished to prevent that suffering.”
“Bullshit!” cried the batpony from earlier as she wrapped a protective hoof around the mare next to her. “Not being able to be with the ones you love is way worse!”
“I never picked that up when reading the Book at all,” Emberglow’s dad Textile said, sounding confused.
“No, no, the Saints are making sense!”
“So, what, we’re supposed to accept the fillyfoolers and coltcuddlers among us now?” asked the marine.
“It would be nice if you did, yes,” went a Knight Angelic.
“But the Saints said ostracizing them is natural!”
“Then just keep your malice to yourselves,” insisted the griffon with a wave of a claw.
“Whether punished or not, they’re still permitting hatred!”
The old mare from before clapped her bony hooves. “Don’t question them!”
As the sharp fervor built, shouts overlapping and voices impossible to pick apart, Emberglow noticed the conflict on Astrolabe’s face. Her gaze flickered over the figures between them to meet Emberglow’s, rubbing one white-robed forehoof against the other in shame.
Mixed emotions churned fiercely in Emberglow’s gut, memories surfacing. Memories of her own intimate joy and brutal heartache. Memories of her once hostile interactions with Astrolabe and Green Fields, now together in exile. While they had made amends since, this did not erase their shared past.
With this clarification from the Saints, could Astrolabe’s life have played out differently? No active persecution to worry about, no avoiding relationships that might grow into love, only disdain from bigots and the pain of self-loathing to be outgrown in time.
As ponies traded shouts around them, Rarity squeezed backwards, pushing against the angry swell of the amphitheater beyond capacity with the Knight’s help. She brushed a hoof through Emberglow’s mane, her pupils darting across her face.
“Do not dwell on might-have-beens,” Rarity insisted, for her ears only. “You found your true self. And now maybe more ponies in this country will get that chance, too.”
Before Emberglow could thank her, a voluminous ringing sound struck her ears with almost physical force, drowning out everyone. It was so loud that dust was shaken off the roofs of the various churches and shrines around them. Blinking, Emberglow saw a large teal-blue bell of magical energy dissipate from above the Paladin’s head as the mighty chime’s echoes faded. They lowered their hand, a gnarled wand clasped between their fingers.
That was one way to do it.
Once everyone had ceased their protests and the Saints in the middle once more commanded full attention, Saint Applejack calmly surveyed the whole group. “Thank you, Silent Sorrow. To those who wish to pursue such relationships, I understand your feelings, but you must keep the big picture in mind. The Diarchs’ greatest wish is to build a peaceful whole for as many ponies as possible, and we work to achieve that. You must put your neighbors before yourselves. So for now, let us get to the heart of this visit.”
Saint Rarity hummed in agreement. “Yes. It is time we shared the true reason we came here, to the headquarters of my Knights. We bring tidings of a new blessing the Diarchs are prepared to bestow upon all who require it.”
“Indeed. It took a bit to get everything ready, but now we have,” Saint Applejack explained.
Emberglow watched carefully as she reached into her shimmering robe and pulled out a bronze pendant, hanging from a cord. She hoisted it high in her hoof with a triumphant pose. When Emberglow squinted, she could barely make out that it featured the Marks of all six Saints.
The Saints were… giving away accessories for national pride? Emberglow’s brow quirked. Even Rarity, normally a proponent of all things fashionable, looked baffled.
“What exactly is that?” Grand Master Ambrosia asked. The audience at large was still cowed into a tense quiet.
Saint Applejack met her clear scrutiny with a more level one of her own. “A solution to a different problem of division amongst ponies that this nation has faced since its inception,” she answered, gesturing to Silent Sorrow.
With a knowing smile, Saint Rarity took over, raising her voice to address the whole crowd. “These amulets, when worn and activated, can make you completely immune to the effects of unicorn magic! No longer will ponies need to cast out or execute their kin! So much needless suffering will now be prevented!”
Relieved gasps echoed throughout the amphitheater. Emberglow met Rarity’s eyes again.
Now, the fear in them was plain.
“Incredible!”
“That’s some miraculous magic, if it’s true.”
“How come nopony else ever thought of that?”
“We’re saved!”
Emberglow’s gaze whipped back and forth as she gauged the crowd’s response. The Diarchy loyalists were elated at the news, cheering, while most everyone else grew even more agitated, limbs twitching or tightening in barely contained ire.
Meanwhile, the Saints simply waved their hooves, signaling for the tumult to settle from their position in the theater’s dead center. They weren’t even glancing at each other.
With that single push in the wrong direction, they might very well lead the unity Emberglow and her friends were working towards to crumble before it truly began to show.
At the surface level, these amulets seemed like a simple safety tool. But fearmongering over unicorns and other creatures like kirin would only intensify as they spread through the Diarchy, regardless of any level of ‘integration’ they facilitated. Moreover, the potential ramifications went far beyond safety. They could easily also be used as anti-unicorn weapons. A chill swept down her spine at the thought.
Emberglow opened her mouth to object over the din. “Are you truly so blind that you would accept a workaround rather than open your hearts?”
“And that’s assuming the things even work,” added one of the Knights Angelic.
Rarity narrowed her eyes, her skepticism and dismay equally present on her face. “Indeed. That may be the case, but I doubt it. Why, such a powerful and specific charm seems entirely too far-fetched to be possible at all.”
“Hear hear!”
“I bet those things are actually pure horseshit!”
“You tell ‘em, Princess!”
Rarity watched the Saints intently, maintaining her poise even as Emberglow danced anxiously in place next to her.
Before they could speak, the loyalist old mare raised a shaky hoof and leveled a deep, sour glare at Emberglow and Rarity. “No poisonous theories! Let the Saints finish!”
“Yes, please, continue!” cried Needle Point. Emberglow’s mother’s voice was heavy with desperation. As other ponies echoed her mother’s sentiment, believers hungry for their words and wishing for surety, Emberglow’s mind whirled.
The Saints - and Silent Sorrow - did not look put off by the disbelief in the least. Once the exclamations had largely ceased, Saint Rarity nodded and cleared her throat. “We shall. As I was about to explain, Saint Twilight, guided by the Diarchs, has perfected a quick and easy process for crafting these amulets, one which our comrades are distributing to various metalworking and rune-carving factories as we speak. We will arrange for the nation to cover the low costs involved, to ensure they are available freely.”
Needle Point’s eyes widened. She and Textile’s necks craned to see over the crowd, rapt with attention.
Emberglow bit her lip at the sight of her parents completely wrapped around the Saints’ hooves. True, their faith hadn't wavered in the last few years, but it still stung to see it right in front of her. What Saint Rarity actually said hardly registered.
Desperate to look at anything else, Emberglow’s gaze settled on Astrolabe. She, meanwhile, was laser-focused on the Saints. “How can we believe you? You’d have to provide a demonstration, first,” she proposed.
“And we will,” Saint Rarity confirmed before facing her counterpart. “I would ask you to volunteer your horn, princess.”
“Me?” Rarity repeated, pointing to herself. “I assumed I didn’t have your trust. Much as you don’t have mine.”
“You have a reputation with the creatures here our words fail to reach,” her counterpart explained. “Better yourself than somepony unknown.”
“That makes sense,” Rarity began, “but I’m afraid I must decline.” Then, she fanned out her wings as much as she could with the limited elbow room. “Whatever game it is you are playing here with the people of Old Canterlot, I will not fall for it,” she declared.
“Good,” Emberglow said, voice low so only Rarity could hear.
“How dare you refuse!” someone reprimanded.
Saint Rarity, though, was nonplussed, and simply cocked her head to the side. “Oh? I’d assumed you would take the opportunity to prove us wrong in front of this crowd. If we were bluffing, we would have lost all credibility in an instant.”
“Which implies you aren’t,” Emberglow noted, her ears itching as she formed backup plans. Earnest forthrightness wouldn’t cut it in this situation. She pressed forwards slightly, jostling to get a better view of the amulet Saint Applejack still held.
“Of course the Saints wouldn’t lie to us!” yelled the young marine stallion, slamming his hoof down onto the side of the bench.
Emberglow took a deep breath, powering through the collective scent of agitated bodies. She really needed to regain her mental balance, too, do her part to counter the Saints’ objective here, now that it was revealed for all.
“Maybe they aren’t,” Emberglow began. “Maybe they’re just omitting crucial details instead. What’s the catch?”
Beside her, Astrolabe gasped. “A good point! Is there a downside to wearing one? These amulets won’t ricochet spells into bystanders, will they?”
“While your concern is appreciated, that’s not how they work,” Saint Applejack answered, peering upwards at them. “Saint Twilight ensured they were perfectly safe.”
“Obviously!”
“Then show us! Where’s that demonstration?”
“A public demonstration can certainly be arranged here,” Saint Applejack confirmed, nodding. “We’ll just need somepony to wear the amulet,” she said brightly, searching through the eager faces in the crowd.
However, it wasn’t a loyalist who answered. “I’ll do it. For both Raritys,” said Ambrosia. “As leader of the Knights Radiant, it should fall to me.”
Her Angelic escorts immediately voiced words of protest, but they fell on deaf ears. However, her resolve was clear for all to see, and she only needed to reply with a look to quiet them down.
While their eyes still shone with worry, her guards did not stop her as she marched down the steps to stand next to the Saints.
“Alright.” With a nod, Saint Applejack looped the amulet around her neck. “This’ll be very simple. All you need to do to turn on the amulet, Grand Master, is push the button in the middle. You’ll be able to feel it working. The same button turns it off. Once you are ready, Silent Sorrow will try to attack you with his magic. When wandcasting, a Paladin’s magic is essentially a far safer version of a unicorn’s, not tied to emotion or instinct.”
Turning to the Paladin, she added “Please demonstrate the spell you will use.”
Silent Sorrow nodded, raising his wand once more. With little fanfare, he pivoted to face a nearby metal rubbish bin nestled at the edge of the alley he’d arrived from, the ponies nearby wisely shuffling away to make space.
As many in the crowd began to whisper amongst themselves in anticipatory or nervous tones, Silent Sorrow charged his spell. Once it was ready, he pointed his wand at the bin, and three bolts of lightning struck it in rapid succession from above. Emberglow flinched at the light and noise.
Once the afterimage faded, she saw that the bin had fallen over, spilling its contents. Said contents were now little more than a pile of ashes.
Gulping, Emberglow looked back at Ambrosia, but she showed no signs of having second thoughts. Instead, she simply hit the button on the amulet and took a few steps back. A brave mare, indeed. Her composure didn’t waver as Silent Sorrow turned his gaze on her, either. A hush fell over the mass of onlookers as all watched with bated breath. In this single moment, the Row was at peace once more. Emberglow knew none present wanted Ambrosia harmed, albeit for different reasons.
Once more, Silent Sorrow readied his magic. The bolts of lightning struck Ambrosia dead-on.
Absolutely nothing happened.
There weren’t even any thunderclaps this time, let alone any transfer of force or patch of singed uniform. Silent Sorrow’s stance relaxed somewhat.
Sounds of awe and admiration rose from the crowd. Emberglow balked, and Rarity did the same next to her.
They did function. The gravity of this news was too big to play off completely, Emberglow knew.
Despite the evidence, others remained unconvinced. “Clearly that Paladin just used a different spell,” stubbornly scoffed the prior griffon.
“What’d you say?” uttered the marine, his voice laced with ill intent.
“Are you daft?”
“Calm down,” Ambrosia ordered, her expression hard. “The amulet worked true, though I cannot say how.” She squared her shoulders and pierced the Saints with her gaze. “However, I felt drained, lethargic while it was on. As if my pegasus magic was tapped out. Do you have an explanation for that? Moreover, are there other negative effects? Is unicorn magic the only type they block?”
The crowd took the opportunity to weigh in.
“Enlighten us, if you are, in fact, the embodiment of honesty!”
“How exactly do they work?”
“They’re blessed, didn’t you hear that part?”
“A valid question, Grand Master.” Saint Rarity noted, splitting her address between Ambrosia and the rest of the throng. “The method Saint Twilight used to craft these unicorn defense amulets, as ordained to her by the Diarchs, involves the generation of a localized field of magic nullification which closely wraps around the wearer’s body. Much like the battery in a rune gauntlet, all magical power needed to maintain the field is drawn from the surrounding area, so they’ll continue to work so long as they aren’t completely broken to pieces.”
“Of course,” Rarity hummed in understanding. “So it’s almost like an antimagic zone, only more compact.”
“What does that mean?” asked Needle Point.
Saint Applejack cleared her throat politely. “It means that, while active, these amulets will nullify all magic.”
As this addendum sunk in, renewed murmurs of confusion percolated through the crowd. Even some of the few Diarchy-loyal Knights seemed put off. Emberglow, too, was just as baffled as she was appalled.
If the amulets nullified magic in general, this presented even more new problems. While their amulets were on, pegasi wouldn’t be able to fly, earth ponies would lose their resilience, and Knights wouldn’t be able to cast! To Emberglow, this made it even more likely the amulets could be misused.
Meanwhile, Saint Applejack and Saint Rarity didn’t react much to the change in reception at all. They stood unflinching, as if barely invested one way or the other. As they met the prying eyes of those around them, the atmosphere fell into a silence so tense the air seemed liable to snap.
“We know what you are thinking,” began Saint Rarity, enunciating precisely, “Why do these amulets make it more difficult for Knights to do their jobs? However, this is the will of the Diarchs. Protecting the lives of adult unicorns and foals alike with these amulets will help widen the foundation of the Diarchy: her ponies. More hooves make for light work.”
Emberglow highly doubted that the four full Diarchy orders would be so quick to agree. Her old scars ached, her injured eye burned.
The griffon from earlier wound up voicing this for her. “Fat chance the Mystics will agree to that without a fuss, even if Saint Twilight herself is the one telling them.”
The grumbling of the crowd surged into another low roar. The disapproval of those the Diarchy indoctrinated drowned the amphitheater in noise, their previous enthusiasm for the Saints’ blessing fading with the unveiling of its full measure.
Ambrosia’s eyes darted about. Even as she still had the floor with the Saints, she was hesitant to speak in haste, her jaw working.
“Is that really going to make us any safer?”
“Keeping the peace is hard enough as it is!”
“The Vigilants and Mystics are stretched thin already, they shouldn’t have to worry about unicorns on top of all the other heretics!”
“Forget the Knights, having unicorns around helps us how, exactly?”
Rarity couldn’t help but flare her wings at that, scowling. “Maybe because they’re ponies who deserve to live their lives without being exiled or killed?”
Her Saint counterpart, however, was as calm as a pond at midnight. “Precisely. Being born a unicorn, and posing a danger to your friends with surges of wild magic, is a cruel existence, and the Diarchs wished to reduce the cruelty in the world through Saint Twilight, and all of us,” she said. “This way, all unicorns born in the Diarchy can keep living amongst their kin without having to fear for themselves or others. Today is a glorious day for all!”
Saint Applejack projected her voice to address the entire crowd, even the suspicious or forlorn. “You hear that? No longer will innocent foals be ripped from their parents’ arms forever. No longer will prejudice against magic cloud your hearts. Thanks to this gift, ponykind may at last be truly united!”
At this proclamation, there was a pregnant pause as those standing and seated alike soaked that in, adjusting their opinions. Emberglow shot Rarity an encouraging look. Now was the moment to press their fresh advantage, take the reins of this discussion back from the Saints’ grip.
Rarity got the message loud and clear, rearing back and stomping her own hooves, drawing all ears of the crowd with a sharp crack. “Integrating unicorns back into your country is unquestionably a good thing. But this doesn’t address the fear you feel, which is the root of the problem. Ponykind was united before segregationists reared their heads.”
“Yeah! Without that fear, these amulets wouldn’t be necessary!”
“We don’t need more tools of suppression!”
Giving silent thanks to her wife for solidifying her own resolve, and to her like-minded fellows, Emberglow took a step forward. “Exactly. A peace built atop roots of constant suspicion is no peace at all,” she declared, her voice thick and heavy with raw emotion.
“What she said!”
“And what’s stopping the clandestine killings of unicorns from continuing anyway?”
“I assure you, such actions will no longer be tolerated,” Saint Rarity said loudly. “We are already in the process of enlightening problematic Knights and clergy not amenable to this more moderate course so they may see the error of their ways.”
“Oh, is that so?” posed Ambrosia, scrutinizing the pair intently as she spoke. “Stop dancing around the issue. What undisclosed consequences does ‘enlightenment’ have for the ponies who receive it? ”
Saint Applejack met her firm glare without a trace of anger. “None at all. It simply lets Saint Twilight into their heart, so that she may supervise them at all times. With her watching their every move and conveying guidance when needed, it will be impossible for the killings to continue. All unicorns will be safe, from others and from themselves.”
“D-Do you truly mean it? What happened to my… my son won’t happen again?”
Emberglow had to do a double-take. It was her mother, stumbling out of Textile’s reach and towards the Saints. Her earlier outcry suddenly clicked.
My son, she’d said. Emberglow’s brother. Lucky Break.
Oh Celestia.
“It won’t,” Saint Rarity reassured, simply.
Needle Point collapsed to her knees a step before reaching her. Her body shook with grief as tears streamed down her face, sobs scraping her throat raw. Emberglow could only stare dumbly as her wife’s monstrous doppelgänger embraced her mother in a tender hug as dozens of creatures watched. From his spot further back, her father, too, cried silently.
For once, nobody interrupted the moment, not even the belligerent old mare.
Emberglow’s heart ached for her family, her eyes growing watery for the brother she’d never known, even as pangs of dread roiled in her gut.
The solemn, reverent façades of Cathedral Row, suddenly seemed to loom over her, more gravestones than sanctuaries. The deaths of unicorns, past and present, lives slipping through their collective grasps into the void.
Even Rarity was showing hesitation now, her ears folded as she draped wing over Emberglow’s back. But for once it didn’t really help. Her insides were still all twisted up. This whole situation was surreal.
Only once her mother had shed all her tears did the tableau seem to unfreeze. Ponies and other creatures traded looks of excitement, pride, doubt, and disbelief in equal measure. Enthusiasm for the amulets was returning, yet all manner of conflicting ideas were voiced, bouncing through the throng.
“I’m not sure how I feel anymore.”
“The side effects seem worth it, right?”
“The princess has to cooperate now. Otherwise she’s basically admitting foals should keep dying!”
A leaden ball settled into her stomach. Emberglow looked into her wife’s eyes, their muzzles nearly touching. In those perfect blue pools were emotions Emberglow could feel, yet had no words to describe, for she knew they were the same emotions she was feeling.
When Rarity didn’t, or couldn’t, piece together the right words to reenter the discussion, Emberglow took that responsibility upon her own shoulders. She pulled away, hammering her focus back into place.
“Okay, maybe the Saints’ plan appeals to some ponies,” she admitted, sparing a hesitant look towards her mother. “But it’s still built on the fundamental foundation of a lie: that they are the Saints, and thus have authority. Which they don’t, because they can’t be.”
At this, the remaining objectors present burst into a fresh furor of outcry and condemnation. Traces of bloodlust, a bubbling thirst for retribution, emerged behind the eyes of many in the throng at the mere audacity of somepony questioning a Saint’s fundamental integrity.
Emberglow bristled. Perhaps that had been a mistake.
However, Rarity nodded firmly to Emberglow before stomping a few paces towards the Saints, reaching the steps. She slashed a forehoof in front of her, cutting off their voices if not their animosity. “My dear Emberglow has a point. We still haven’t fully addressed the elephant in the room: that there are two ponies present claiming to be the real Rarity.”
“And I truly do not take offense to your claim,” reassured Saint Rarity with a small, magnanimous smile. Though it didn’t put Emberglow at ease in the least. Even the light of the sun now seemed to have turned harsh as the Saint spoke.
“Yes, you should admit you’re the fake!” insisted the crone, who waved a wrinkled hoof at Rarity. But a stern glare from Wind Chime cut off any further comments she may have had.
Astrolabe sighed, still near Emberglow. “Arguing about that won’t change the appeal these amulets clearly have for many ponies here. What matters in the end is what those with authority decide is best for the people under their care.” She turned toward Ambrosia. “Grand Master Ambrosia, may we hear your thoughts?”
Ambrosia, scratching her chin in thought, was suddenly drawn out of her self-possession as she noticed the crowd’s attention congealing on her. She blinked, taking a moment to gather her thoughts. “Well… it could certainly be worse. Even with the amulets in play, unicorn foals will technically still have their magic, and they have a family to gain on top of that. The alternative is convincing the Diarchy to revise the Book, an impossible ask.”
The bat pony mare’s jaw dropped. “Grand Master? You can’t seriously be considering going along with all this, right?”
“At what level we should cooperate is her call to make, alongside Grand Master Magenta Mirror,” Astrolabe noted, glancing between Ambrosia, the bat pony, and other immigrant holdouts in the crowd. “But she’d probably also listen to the princess were she to weigh in,” she added, before turning to eye Rarity expectantly.
More faces spun Rarity’s way. She paused to carefully consider her response.
“There’s always room for friendship and compromise,” Rarity stated diplomatically. “While there are superior methods of maintaining peace and fostering harmony, with or without Knights, this plan the Saints have brought may have some small merit.”
While she’d schooled her bearing into one of outward neutrality, the undercurrent of conflict in her tone was obviously apparent even to those who weren’t intimately familiar with her mannerisms like Emberglow was. Having to actually agree with a point her own warped impostor was making couldn’t be comfortable.
Still, maybe the Saints could compromise, too.
Emberglow fluffed her wings and exhaled once, gazing down at Saint Rarity and Saint Applejack. “Can you wait on distributing the amulets so we can iron out any kinks?”
“Change the course set by the Diarchs? Preposterous!”
“Heretic!”
“Exactly. You should stay quiet and be grateful for all this,” said Textile. Emberglow hadn’t seen him stop crying. “This already sounds far better than the old norm. What part needs changing?”
Emberglow frowned. That was hardly the point she wished her father would make.
“The ‘old norm’ for you would’ve been to hunt down and slaughter just, kind ponies like Her Highness on the spot just because of what’s on their head!” exclaimed the bat pony mare.
“And what’s wrong with that?”
“Why change what isn’t broken?”
“The old way doesn’t make our Knights’ job harder!”
“Only those unsightly creatures like that devil princess right there need be hurt!”
“How dare you, murderer!”
“Do not stoop to that barbarous level!”
“But it’s what we already do?”
“Do you want to be arrested right now?”
Emberglow reeled. Whatever unexpected changes these Saints’ coming wrought, it would be difficult for them to twist her birthplace into anything worse than it already was.
Emberglow bit back a retort in defense of her beloved as Rarity took a calming breath. “I very much do not appreciate what some of you ponies are not-so-subtly suggesting,” Rarity noted, her tone carrying an angry undercurrent. “I’d rather wear one of those amulets myself than let anypony else lose their horn on my watch.”
The thought of her wife losing her horn again nearly made Emberglow double over in sympathy. Her composure was certainly beginning to fray under stress as old emotional wounds reopened. A few more tugs on her metaphorical string, and she could very well unravel. If this escalated any farther, Emberglow would need to just grab Rarity and fly off, then take time to pick up the pieces and put herself back together.
“Then why don’t you?” the marine stallion asked, eying Rarity. “It’s not as if you need to have magic to command that faithless country of yours, right?”
“No, but she does need it to raise and lower the moon,” Emberglow pointed out matter-of-factly. “I’ve watched her do it.”
Astrolabe’s brows rose at that. “While I don’t necessarily go by the Book there, I still find that notion very hard to believe. The sun makes light and heat by itself, it probably moves by itself, too.”
“That has to be wrong,” Textile countered, frowning as he shielded Needle Point’s ears by holding her head against his barrel.
“It is,” Saint Applejack said in confirmation.
For an instant, Rarity looked dumbfounded, but this was quickly replaced by a dismissive huff. “Surely you can’t mean to imply that you Saints could move the sun and moon in mine and Sunset’s stead?”
“Of course not,” Saint Applejack elaborated. “That is the domain of the Diarchs. They have always moved them.”
“You would say that, wouldn’t you?” Rarity wore a smug grin. “Then how about another demonstration?” She opened a wing, sweeping it upwards as she stepped further forwards. “Go ahead and ask your ‘Diarchs’ to move the moon right now, put it in the sky above beside the sun, for all to witness! If they can, that is.”
Hope glowed anew in Emberglow’s chest at Rarity’s idea. As if the two of them would actually answer. Then the Saints would be discredited in front of the entire city for real this time. Then they might be able to halt the proliferation of these amulets before it begins!
As the crowd speculated one way or the other, the two Saints shared a look, as if conferring silently, before Saint Applejack bored her gaze into Rarity. “Do you seriously expect the Diarchs would disrupt the order of the sky for everypony in the world simply to prove a point? For a creature who claims to have known them, you clearly don’t understand them.”
“Aha!” the batpony mare declared, pointing a hoof dramatically. “Did you hear that? She deflected!”
“She certainly did,” Rarity proudly confirmed. “And that’s hardly what I would call ‘understanding.’ That’s a logical inference at best. I knew Celestia and Luna personally, as ponies.”
She spun to face the crowd, raising her voice. “Did you know that Princess Celestia was a terrible actress, or that she was deathly afraid of chickens? Did you know that Princess Luna had a pet opossum named Tiberius, or that she would eat pineapples whole? I could share dozens of such personal anecdotes, if requested. If you truly knew them as well, you, too, could share stories of them not found in the Book.”
Her Saint counterpart narrowed her eyes, her tail flicking. “Even if we did, there’s no way to prove whose stories were true and whose were fabrications.”
Fresh murmurs began to percolate through the crowd, while others applauded Rarity or cried out objections. But even those who had been effectively calling for Rarity’s horn before were beginning to hesitate.
The emotional whiplash was straining Emberglow near to breaking, and surely others were feeling it too. Nonetheless, she pressed further. “That’s two for two now on times you’ve evaded our requests,” she said, smiling triumphantly. “Shall we go on, or are you ready to admit your true motives here? You’ve made your points and shared the existence of these amulets, yes, but you likely won’t accomplish anything more here today.”
“That’s right! Leave our city!”
“Keep this stuff in your churches!”
Even Emberglow had to admit that was a bit of a reach. Still, to the credit of everyone present, this did not devolve into another frenzied shouting match.
Or worse. Yet.
Instead, they simply waited to hear how the Saints would reply. But naked hostility lingered in many pairs of eyes. Some even looked ready to throw punches at the drop of a pin. Each of the Knights, and the Paladin below, were prepared to intervene should that happen, firm and alert.
“Perhaps we should return to the topic at hoof,” suggested Ambrosia, who held herself with practiced dignity. “I’m gleaning that you didn’t come here just to entreat yourselves to us before making this announcement; you wished to ask the Knights here to help distribute the amulets,” she deduced.
“That’s correct,” Saint Rarity confirmed. “We would like for all six of our orders, Radiant and Angelic included, to oversee this holy mission. As wise as we are, we don’t yet know the names and faces of everypony in the Diarchy, or their individual needs. Nor are there that many of us. That’s why we are entreating you to assist us, alongside the High General, Grand Master Magenta Mirror, and the others.”
“Better us doing it than these Paladins, at least,” Astrolabe said, her tail swishing behind her with anxious energy as she pointed at Silent Sorrow. “As with any prescribed remedy, the amulets won’t work for everypony, and could easily cause harm in the wrong conditions.
“If this is going to happen either way, I believe we should be the ones taking care of it,” added one of Ambrosia’s escorts. “What do you think, Grand Master?”
She took a long moment to mull this over. The creatures hanging on her response instantly quieted as she eventually resumed speaking. “I will need more time to ensure these nullifying amulets are passed along freely and responsibly. And to meet with the other Grand Masters.”
Touching the single amulet still around her neck, she continued. “You can leave this one here with me. And I would also request samples be distributed to the Orders. But know that I would have appreciated being briefed about this in advance. Saints or otherwise, making a public spectacle of a new innovation to entreat favor for your own aggrandizement isn’t how professionals operate.”
“All that we do, we do to reinforce the unity the Diarchs require,” Saint Applejack rebuked, even as some of the crowd began to protest on their behalf. “But I understand, and we will take your feedback into consideration. Saint Twilight can pause the distribution to all outside our Orders for now.”
Emberglow sighed in relief, the remaining adrenaline leaving her body. She now found herself emotionally exhausted. “Are you finished?” she asked. “As delicate and important this issue is, I imagine you, and many creatures here, have other responsibilities to return to.”
The Saints didn’t speak for a long moment.
“Say something!”
“Lady Emberglow here is correct in that we’ve said all we needed to,” Saint Rarity eventually said.
“Then I suppose this is goodbye?” Emberglow posed. “The residents of Old Canterlot can take it from here.”
Only after having another wordless exchange did Saint Applejack clear her throat. “Yes, it seems our visit today is at its end. We trust you to evaluate the amulets and begin their distribution shortly, Grand Master Ambrosia. This will cement the Diarchs’ satisfaction with you.”
“Come along, Paladins. Yes, you as well, Shockwave.”
Instantly, a shape descended from above. A second Paladin had been hidden behind the steeple of one of the churches, standing on the roof! After landing in an empty spot beside Silent Sorrow with effortless ease, Shockwave inclined their covered head, marked with a three.
Saint Rarity gestured with a foreleg, and the nearby ponies stood from their spots on the benches and shuffled off to the sides to make a wider aisle up the tiered rows for the four of them to leave single-file. The Saints climbed up with their heads held high, saying nothing as their robes scintillated in the light.
Paladin Shockwave, following behind them, whipped their covered head around to study the shorter creatures around him. “Did you find meaning in the words of the Saints?” they posed. “To find greater meaning in one’s existence… there is no greater pursuit.”
On that, at least, Emberglow could agree. She wondered what meaning the Paladins themselves got out of all this.
“Please disperse peacefully, all of you,” Saint Rarity added. “Return to your normal routines. Saint Applejack and I have other places to visit our wisdom upon. Safe travels and a blessed day to you all.”
The four of them soon vanished completely beyond the crowd.Upon their departure, the oppressive weight of the impending maelstrom abated, for now. Loyalists dispersed from the semicircular arrangement and melted into little cliques, departing for their own homes or other destinations. Others departed one after another now that the spectacle had run its course, many going right back inside houses of worship on the Row itself to gossip about the fallout of this fresh development.
The rest waited, forming a line in front of Ambrosia, asking what tests she would perform, or if they could try the amulet out for a bit. The Knights Angelic were watching very carefully to make sure nobody on either side made trouble.
Only now did the tension begin to bleed out of Emberglow’s body. One wrong move, and the assembled creatures could have coalesced into a violent mob, crashing through the city in an avalanche. Emberglow counted her lucky stars that the Saints had only made requests, not demands.
She huddled close to Rarity. Just leaning into her helped settle Emberglow’s nerves, but more words, even calming ones, wouldn’t come. Rarity, too, was silent, stiff apart from her wandering eyes.
Rarity was trying to hide it, but Emberglow could tell when her wife was afraid.
Emberglow looked away, eyes roving about for a distraction. The hateful crone was slowly hobbling away on old joints, spitting phlegm onto the stones over her shoulder in contempt in Emberglow and Rarity’s direction.
Other couples and families of all kinds held each other much as they were, sheltering from the past and future in each other’s hooves. Her wings tensed involuntarily as Emberglow made eye contact with her parents, who watched them with undisguised shame and pity.
Sighing, Emberglow turned to Rarity. There wasn’t anything left to be done, here. If those Saints, or any others, returned in their absence, she could trust her many allies here to act as opposition in their stead.
“Should we follow them, you think?” Emberglow asked.
“No,” Rarity replied, tiny cracks of her own mental exhaustion only Emberglow could recognise peeking into view. “We’re bound to run into them again eventually, so long as we all seek to change the Diarchy.”
Emberglow flexed, cracking her spine. “Then let’s go. Heartwing and Terminus will need to hear about all this.”