//------------------------------// // 5 // Story: When Heavens Divide // by Mediocre Morsov //------------------------------// 5 Celestia leaned her chin on her hoof, glaring over the side of her chariot as it flew back to Equestria. She was tired and angry. She had left her own Summit! Her crowning achievement in diplomacy, and the sheer idiocy of her fellow ponies had driven her away in a rage. Things were falling apart worse than she thought all because of a simple oversight she had never corrected. That fact, that it was her fault, made her even angrier. The anger, of course, was just a crutch she was childishly clinging to; in truth, she wanted to weep. “Um… Princess Celestia?” a voice snapped her out of her thoughts. She sighed, heavily, and turned to face the two sales-ponies with icy contempt. She didn’t know them, really, but had heard reports of their swindling from various sources, namely Applejack. Now they seemed oddly subdued, compared to their reported behavior. Then again, they were dealing with an ancient Princess who had, only hours ago, demonstrated her fury with violent power. Even opportunists would tread lightly. “What is it?” she asked. “W-well, Flim and I wanted to thank you for getting us out of there when you did,” the mustachioed brother – Flam, Celestia remembered – said. “And, of course, for the ride back to Canterlot!” Flim added. “Of course, of course!” Flam agreed, “Can’t forget that, now can we?” “I couldn’t very well leave an Equestrian citizen behind, now could I?” the Princess of the Day muttered before furrowing her brow, “Wait, you two are Equestrian citizens, yes?” “My brother and I consider ourselves world citizens, Your Majesty,” Flim explained, “We are, of course, loyal to Equestria above all others.” “The best business, in Equestria,” Flam grinned, “Land of opportunity, it is!” “How have ponies fallen so far?” Celestia murmured, “I remember the days of Starswirl the Bearded, learning of how ponies bested the vicious Windigos with harmony and solidarity. Have a thousand years of my rule weathered that bond? My failure is great…” “Don’t say that, Princess!” Flim gaped, feeling – for the briefest of moments – a genuine concern for their leader, “You just need a new angle, is all.” “Flim and I know all about working new angles,” the hairier of the two nodded. “A new angle, huh?” Celestia snorted, cynically, “I have tried to lead by example, but I cannot guide my fellow ponies while bogged down in my ceremonial duties.” “Issue edicts to them,” Flim suggested, “Make them obey your teachings!” “Good idea, brother!” “That’s a horrible idea!” Celestia snapped, “I am not their ruler! I might control the sun, and be the oldest of the Princesses, but I am not the ruler of all ponies. I will not impose my will on sovereign lands.” “Pardon my saying so, Princess,” Flam said, “but it’s not imposing if they already consider you their ruler.” “Indeed!” Flim agreed, “You heard those stuffy bureaucrats, prattling on in there!” “Besides the Marexican, all of them saw you as their leader!” “Some of them worshipped you!” “I am not divine!” Celestia seethed, barely keeping from erupting in flame again. Flim and Flam flinched back, and Celestia winced at her lack of control. This wasn’t like her; she never lost her temper like this. She brought her humor back into control with some effort. “My apologies. This whole ordeal has taxed my patience, thought that is no excuse.” “It’s alright, Your Majesty,” Flam chuckled, “We’ve been known to wear on others’ patience.” “Yes, Applejack has mentioned it more than once,” Celestia mused with a smile. The smile faded when she saw the brothers fluster and shuffle dumbly. She tried to change the subject. “Why in the world did Twilight send you to Yakyakistan, anyway? I know you two are not the most reputable subjects, but banishment isn’t like Twilight. Prince Rutherford mentioned something about ‘cool heads’?” “Ah… that…” Flim said, significantly slower than his usual fast-paced speech. “Well…” Flam cleared his throat, “my brother and I were under the influence of a particular potion.” “And we needed to be separated from some pony as a result,” Flim added. “A love potion?” Celestia’s eyes widened. It was her best guess based on that information; she had read in one of Twilight’s friendship reports about the Cutie Mark Crusaders using a love potion on Cheerilee and Big Macintosh, that failing to separate them would have resulted in the effects being permanent. “How did the two greatest swindlers in Equestria, who so frequently sell fake elixirs, manage to fall for something like that?” “You are too kind, Your Majesty!” Flam bowed as deep as he could from his seat, “Did you hear that, brother? The greatest swindlers in Equestria!” “Indeed I did, brother! Truly an honor coming from the leader of that fair land, herself!” “Truth is, Princess,” Flam returned his attention to their host, “Flim and I have a bit of affection for the pesky, peach pony who keeps foiling our fortuitous plans.” “Indubitably!” Flim agreed, “It became too much to bear, but neither of us had the spine to ask her out.” “Simply shameful.” “Very shameful!” “Dreadfully shameful!” “And?” Celestia interrupted their attempt for pity. “Er, well, we contracted the youthful Apple Bloom to concoct for us a temporary draft of amore, some liquid courage to help us ask her out!” Flam explained. “Needless to say,” Flim chuckled before deflating, “…our affections were unrequited.” “Princess Twilight was forced to send us away in the meantime so the potion could wear off.” “You imbibed in a mind-altering substance and harassed a young mare in an attempt to force her into an amorous relationship with both of you?” Celestia gaped, “I… I’m pretty sure I’ve written laws against most of those things…” “It wasn’t our intent to harass her!” Flim said, hurriedly. “We had no desire to force her!” Flam said on top of his brother. “Relax,” Celestia giggled, “I am merely toying with you. I apologize for the dark humor, but my mood has been a little dreary of late.” “No worries, my dear – eh, Princess!” Flam said, correcting his usual line when addressing mares, “Flim and I have heard far worse.” Celestia couldn’t help but feel a small smile tug at her lips. How long had it been since someone casually addressed her with something as simple as a ‘dear’? Aside from Luna, she hadn’t heard anything like it since her mentor, Starswirl the Bearded disappeared. Or Discord and his attempts to annoy her, but those made her smirk out of amusement more than anything. “Please,” she smiled, warmly, “my friends call me Tia.” “F-friends?” Flim exchanged looks with his brother. “Don’t look so shocked, you two,” Celestia chuckled, “I was mentor to the Princess of Friendship. I believe I’ve distanced myself too far from my subjects; perhaps it is time I begin putting time aside from my duties so I can mingle.” “That’s… very inspired,” Flam said. After a moment, he added, “Tia.” “I’ve always heard you’re overworked with royal duties,” Flim said, “Won’t you be missed?” “My sister Luna has been wanting to give more authority to our subjects,” Celestia noted, “It would probably go a long way if I appointed some of the more progressive nobility to take over for my duties, and in turn they could appoint commoners into higher positions to alleviate some of their duties.” “Ah, the Ponzi Scheme!” Flam grinned. “The Pyramid Scam!” Flim agreed. “So-called ‘trickle-down economics’!” Flam chortled and his brother joined in, “A classic!” “It’s not a scheme,” Celestia scowled, “It’s a chance to give more responsibility in government to non-nobles. I’ve… recently discovered that how we do things in Equestria isn’t exactly fair.” “Of course it’s not,” Flam agreed, “but that’s what makes it so grand!” “I don’t follow,” the Princess furrowed her brow. “Competition for wealth inspires ponies to strive for their very best!” Flim explained, “Why, just look at Flam and I!” Celestia gave both of them a flat stare before sighing. “Even if you were exemplars of the virtues of competition,” she said, “I cannot allow such inequality to ferment. For even a single pony to be wealthy, a hundred others must be destitute; that’s the simple truth of it. Besides, there is a disproportionate amount of power held in too few hooves.” “You’re starting to sound like those republican types,” Flam noted, “Fancying democracy this evening?” “Flirting with it,” Celestia giggled, “In truth, I don’t think it’s necessary, especially after witnessing how unreliable so many ponies are. You heard those delegates; half of them have completely abandoned or twisted my teachings! Could you imagine if I simply left all law and government in their hooves? There’d be endless debates, all ending with erasing some part of my teachings to serve their ends! No, what I’m suggesting is simply making government more efficient.” “More efficient, eh?” Flim tapped his chin, “I think I can imagine this, yes. What do you think, Flam?” “More efficiency in government,” Flam mulled it over, “Sounds profitable to me!” “Well, that’s good enough for us!” Flim grinned, turning back to Celestia, “Flam and I will help in any way we can, Your Maje- er, Tia.” “That’s good to know,” Celestia smiled, “I wish to school the two of you in business ethics. Then… then I would like you to do important work for the good of Equestria.” “What in the name of horn swaddling are ethics?” Flim blinked. “I guess we’ll find out, brother,” Flam shrugged, “Alrighty, Tia; we’ve already said we’d help. What kind of work?” Celestia looked back out over the passing landscape beneath her chariot. “For too long the selfishness of ponies has been allowed to run rampant,” she explained, “Corporations have formed, businesses that have swelled to monstrous proportions and consumed all around them. They are incredibly beneficial in many regards, and very efficient and convenient, but their leaders are corrupt and driven by a greed for wealth that puts even dragons to shame. If they continue to run their course, unchecked, they will burn themselves out and take every pony else with them. “For their own safety, as well as that of Equestria’s subjects – pony and non-pony alike – they need to be restructured. After I am done educating the two of you in the finer points of how to run a business with ethics, in line with my teachings, I want you to set about bringing the major business leaders of Equestria together and teaching them the same. They will submit to new edicts that limit wealth, regulate capital, and allow for a balance between competition, wealth, and equality.” “Sounds brilliant, Tia!” Flam whooped, then frowned, “If only I had understood a word of it.” “You will,” Celestia smiled down at the ocean they were passing over, “in time. Soon, all of Equestria – all ponies of every land – will remember my teachings and their oaths.” Flim and Flam exchanged a worried look while Celestia was focused on the ocean, but neither said anything. Celestia was their ruler, and they had sworn to that against their better judgement. She wasn’t like the naïve Twilight; one could not outwit a millennium-old deity who had planned things out centuries in advance. For better or worse, they had to trust her. … Twilight watched from the balcony of her castle, watching the battle unfold before her. Somewhere in her mind she was astonished that she could look out over her once-pristine town and not breakdown at what she was seeing. The skies were like some ancient tapestry of suffering: storm clouds bursting with arcs of lightning, glowing red from fire as pegasi, griffons and dragons battled for supremacy. Their bodies, burnt and broken, tumbled from the heavens to rain down upon their fellow combatants. A fierce melee was unfolding in the streets of Ponyville, earth ponies wielding improvised weapons and fighting tooth and hoof against stampeding yaks. In some areas, ponies would suddenly turn on each other and reveal themselves as changelings. Rainbow Dash’s wing of Wonderbolts were scattered and being picked off one-by-one, while Rarity lead the unicorns and the remaining ponies in a defense of the castle, the broken and retreating militia fleeing to the safety of its walls. The others had left months ago. Twilight felt the vibrations from her balcony – the storm of thousands of hooves galloping, the shaking of the air as screams and war cries were thrown about. A new vibration caught her attention. It caught everyone’s attention, pony and non-pony alike. The fighting stopped, even in the skies. A thumping drew closer, like booming thunder. The ruined husks of buildings were shouldered aside by a massive bulk. Thick musculature encasing bones harder than steel. Twilight would never have recognized her former assistant of not for his hide of thick, diamond-hard purple scales and crown of green spikes. Fangs capable of carving through the strongest of gems bristled in a maw that could swallow an armored stallion whole; a maw that leaked green fire and black smoke. “TWILIGHT!” Spike declared his challenge, rising to his haunches, his head coming level with her balcony. “Oh, Spike…” the Princess of Friendship allowed her sorrow to break through the façade of self-control she had worn through the entire battle, “Why?” “BECAUSE YOU FAILED,” the dragon whispered, yet it carried like distant thunder. Those emerald eyes, larger in diameter than Big Mac was tall, looked at her with a combination of hatred, grief, and pity that made the Princess’ heart break like brittle glass. “NOW… FACE YOUR FAILURE!” With a scream born from the depths of her agony, Twilight flew into the air, trying to rise above Spike as he drew himself out to his full height. She circled around the tallest tower of her castle, arcing in for the attack and firing a powerful magical bolt. Purple magic danced across Spike’s scales, eliciting a roar not unlike a volcano erupting. He replied with a wave of eldritch flame. Twilight hardly had time to envelop herself in a shield. Even with all her power she strained under the seemingly endless inferno spawning from Spike’s gullet. How long could he sustain such an attack? How long could she hold out? Already the bubble was cracking. “Twilight!” a voice rang out, nearly shattering her attention and costing her life. Spike paused and the Princess of Friendship took the opportunity to ascend above the clouds where the wingless dragon could not follow. She gasped for breath as soon as she was through the tumultuous cloud cover. Looking around for who had cried out, she saw Princess Luna descend from the moon. Hadn’t it been daylight? It had been impossible to tell through the clouds and fires. “Princess Luna,” Twilight panted, “Have you brought reinforcements? I feared Canterlot had been destroyed!” “Twilight, this is only a nightmare,” Luna said, soothingly. Her horn glowed in rich blue. Twilight watched as the clouds whitened, the lights within dying down. The clouds began to break and through the breeches, Twilight saw Ponyville restored. There was no invasion, no war. The young alicorn heaved a sigh of relief and collapsed upon the cloud she stood on, though she was no longer physically fatigued. “Oh, thank Celestia!” she heaved, then chuckled, “Or, I guess I should be saying, thank you, Luna.” “It is my duty,” Luna said, grimacing, “One I have been neglecting, of late. I apologize for that. How long has this particular nightmare been afflicting you?” “I’ve been having a series of these dreams ever since you visited,” Twilight confessed, “The first two weren’t this bad, though. The first one was about Spike leaving to return to the Dragon Lands after another fight…” “And the second?” Luna pressed. “I… I was following his progress through reports,” Twilight confessed, “Ember was still the Dragon Lord, but she and the others were following Spike, for some reason. I couldn’t understand it all, since the reports were sporadic, but he traveled to the Griffonstone and Yakyakistan, too. They… they called him the Thurdojun.” “Do you know what that means?” Luna asked. “I’m not familiar with dragon,” Twilight sighed, “At any rate, it was just a nightmare. I suppose you’ll tell me I just need to talk it out with Spike.” “My job is to help my subjects interpret their dreams,” Luna smiled, then frowned, “Yours, however… they seem almost prophetic. They aren’t structured in the usual way. There is an overarching plot, and to my eye, I could detect nothing overly extraordinary or bizarre about your dream. In nearly every pony’s dreams, there is some element that is out of place, some overlooked detail that reveals the lie. In yours, there was none…” “Are you saying this will happen?!” the younger Princess was horrified. “Fear not, Twilight,” Luna said, calmly, “I am saying, this could be a warning of a potential future. It is not uncommon for alicorns to be gifted with prescience and scrying magic. All of us have the talent of divination in some form, but what is important to remember is that this nightmare is only one of infinite possible futures. As the Princess of Friendship, it is likely your magic is allowing you to see this result in an effort to help you avoid the ultimate friendship crisis.” “Then I need to talk to Spike,” Twilight sighed, “I’ve been avoiding him too long. My friends are also falling apart over this silly democracy thing you mentioned. Oh, sorry; I forgot you supported it.” “I still do,” Luna murmured, “but we can discuss politics another time. For now, you should attempt to mend the rift between you and your friends before it spirals out of control. Apologies go a long way.” “I suppose I’ve been a little close-minded…” Twilight chuckled, nervously, “Alright; I’ll find Spike as soon as I wake up and talk this out with him, then Starlight, and then we’ll end this feud between our friends!” “I’m pleased to hear it,” Luna smiled warmly before beginning to fade, “My time grows short, Princess. I have many more dreams to visit before it is through, but yours was most pressing. I know you shall triumph!” With that, the Princess of the Night vanished and Twilight felt herself slip into another, more pleasant dream. … Luna flew through the realm of dreams, making stops where things were most critical. Here a stallion’s dreams foreshadowed suicide if left unchecked, there a mare’s dreams put her on the knife edge of insanity. Starlight Glimmer’s dreams had been erratic, switching between a utopian vision of the future and a dystopia produced by her failures in delivering it. Each of Twilight’s other friends had their dreams warped by frustration or outright anger. A million others besides. By the time she returned to the waking world it was almost sunrise. Sleepy, Luna strolled into the dining room at the same instant Celestia did. Luna stopped, her tired mind trying to process why Celestia was there, scowling and without pancakes. “Did I do something wrong?” the younger of the two asked before realizing what was out of place, “I mean, is the Friendship Summit over already?” “I don’t want to talk about it!” the Princess of the Day groaned as she walked past the sleepy Luna. Tailing her were two red-maned stallions in striped vests and straw hats that Luna vaguely recognized. “That bad, hm?” Luna mused to herself, frowning. Her poor sister; that Summit had been her pride and joy pet project for the last few months, and she had been dreaming of it for years, toying with the idea for centuries. Ultimately, however, the need for sleep overrode her concern and she returned to her room. Before going to be, however, she levitated a journal to her writing desk and opened it, preparing a quill and some ink. It was a habit she had to keep records of her nightly duties, as well as her thoughts and concerns, within a journal. It was a cross between a dream journal and a diary, and Luna frequently referred to earlier entries in an effort to track recurring dreams in her subjects. She did so now, but to track recent events more than dreams. She frowned at the C.E. dating method she had used her entire life: the Celestial Era. Being the younger of the two, even the calendar had been named in honor of the reigning Princess. Celestia had claimed that it had never been her intent, especially since they were co-regents, but it had been one of the many barbs to drive Luna into possession by Nightmare Moon. Now, though, Celestia was pushing for a new calendar system to celebrate her return, but the best she could do was convince a large portion of her subjects to refer to C.E. as the “Common” Era. Of course, that was very recent. Her journal entries were always written with the date of when the night began, rather than the morning she was writing them. Very tried, she decided to skim. Wednesday the 11th, October, 1074 CE, My sister received grave news from Princess Twilight Sparkle… I decided to gather more information, but this resulted in disaster… Thursday the 12th, October, 1074 CE, Against my better judgement, I’ve been allowing Discord to spend time with me. He’s quite charming when he isn’t dousing me in chocolate milk; I can see why Tia had a crush on him before our battle (whoever is reading this, don’t tell her I wrote that!) Luna smiled at that entry, despite the fact she had avoided her duties that night. Now she stared at a blank page. Friday the 13th; the monthly night of bad luck… Why had did she have to take her responsibilities back up on that day? Sighing, she dipped the quill in the inkwell and set about writing. Friday the 13th, October, 1074 CE, I have just returned from a grueling amount of dream duty. I deserve it, naturally, since I have neglected my responsibilities for two days and a night in order to play games with Discord. He’s even better than me at Pony Slaughter, but whoever is reading this better not tell him I said so! The nightmares I faced today were some of the worst I’ve seen in a long time, especially Twilight’s. Hers smacked of prophecy, and that concerns me. I would much rather Pinkie Pie’s nightmare about a pony-eating cake turned out prophetic than Twilight’s vision of a race war… She mentioned that Spike had been referred to as the Thurdojun, which seems to be some kind of title in dragon. I usually fell asleep during Starswirl’s lectures on the dragon language, and a thousand years truly takes its toll on unused knowledge. Even Twilight didn’t know its meaning! I will ask Dragon Lord Ember about this title; if she can’t answer it, then I will be forced to do research… Luna proceeded to list elements from the other dreams she had entered, compared them with previous dreams of the same subjects to see if anything was recurring, and then went into a fitful sleep, slumped over her desk. Her dreams were nearly as troubled as those of her subjects.