Starlight Glimmer knew she wasn’t going to enjoy the tournament.
She hadn’t intended to go at first—some parts of Accipian culture just weren’t meant to be appreciated by ponies. They weren’t the only nation like that. Thanks to her connection with Twilight, she’d visited Yakyakistan at least once, and been thoroughly appalled by the time she left. But the yaks enjoyed it, so who was she to judge?
This was different, though. This wasn’t just slavery, something that deeply upset most ponies who heard about it even though they had little cultural analogues to compare against—these were slaves fighting. She had almost written a letter to Celestia the moment she heard about this but learning that it was more an athletic event and that contestants didn’t die cooled that desire somewhat.
She tried very hard to enjoy herself as things got underway. She enjoyed her Accipian food—much more flavorful than most Equestrian dishes, though she couldn’t bring herself to dare anything made of meat. Once he learned she intended to come, Velar had invited her to attend in the emperor’s personal box—another way to reinforce the rule of his family, but Starlight didn’t mind that. Given all she’d seen over the last several months, Starlight Glimmer wanted house Virtue to be the one that kept ruling.
If Vengeance takes over, Equestria is doomed.
At first, she had elated in the purpose of this tournament—slaves who competed here could actually earn their freedom! But not very many would win today. Many more would be beaten bloody, bringing glory to the clan whose color they wore. The birds called it a tournament of freedom, but it was really just another excuse to get drunk and fight a lot.
At least the yaks only break objects, instead of each other.
“There are griffons down there,” Starlight pointed out, after the first round had finished and she noticed the contestants grouping up by species. Velar had already explained the next round would involve teams matching up different species, so not unlike the Equestria games. “Why?”
“Birds can be slaves,” Velar said, in that uncomfortable voice he always used when answering questions he didn’t want to hear. “Why wouldn’t they?”
She struggled to form a coherent response. “Don’t you… isn’t it wrong to… do that to one of your own?”
Velar laughed. “Species doesn’t determine station, Starlight.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “I don’t see many who aren’t griffons in the citizen box.”
“Well…” he floundered. “Alright, it’s not that common. Mostly it happens when someone can’t pay their debts. If they get high enough, and you don’t have a family to pay, then you pay it yourself. Most birds don’t let themselves get into that position, though. It’s more common for… for others. But it’s not as bad as it sounds. It means not fighting for a job, it means food, and shelter, and membership in a clan. It’s often voluntary. Everyone wants security in their lives. I know it might be difficult for you, but imagine you were born into a bad situation. Your family has poor land to farm, and not much of it. Your crops fail, and winter comes. Either you can starve, or you can sell yourselves to a good family. I know which one I’d choose.”
Barbaric, she thought, but was smart enough not to say. Everything Velar said to justify this only made it seem worse to her. The tabloids back in Equestria were going absolutely crazy with slave stories. The most persistent rumor was that griffons had already broken the treaty and were keeping pony slaves. She’d never seen any, and yet…
As Starlight looked down at the arena floor, she could make out a group of a dozen or so ponies—smallest by far of any of the racially-divided masses, but still greater than zero. She felt her whole body tense. “Not-prince Velar,” she said, unable to keep the twinge of anger from her voice. “Didn’t you say that only slaves could compete in this tournament?”
He nodded. “Even former slaves are unable to fight, yes. Not unless they’ve been invited to a shared bout… It’s sacred law.”
“Then why…” She rose from her chair, horn glowing off and on, but she didn’t actually cast any spells. There was no spell that could help her escape from this. “Why are there ponies down there?”
Velar seemed confused by the question. “Because they’re… because they’re competing? Because they want a chance at—”
“Freedom,” she said. Then she had a spell. Her horn glowed, and something appeared in front of her, hovering in the air. She saw a few of his house-guard tense, but then they saw she had only brought paper and they relaxed. Maybe they realized that if Starlight intended to kill someone, there wasn’t anything their stupid swords could do to stop her. “Right here, Velar. Do you recognize this?” she pointed at the scroll.
Starlight was aware of eyes on her—her volume had attracted the royal family’s attention, as well as several of the guards. She ignored them all.
“No,” Velar said, as oblivious as ever. “That looks long, whatever that is. Is it something to do with combat in Equestria, maybe?”
Of course, stupid! He can’t read! So, she read for him. “Upon arrival in Equestrian territory, the people of Accipio will forfeit all ponies they own, to be returned immediately by airship to any port of call. Any earth pony, pegasus, unicorn, crystal pony, or thestral shall be considered free, regardless of the depth of their debt or the seriousness of their crimes.” She looked up, snapping the scroll closed. “Explain to me how you haven’t violated the treaty, every last one of you?”
“Because…” Velar seemed to be catching on slowly. His family still watched, though they didn’t interfere. Perhaps they would, if Velar didn’t have an answer. She was very curious what this emperor might have to say about a violation of Equestrian trust. “Because we aren’t in Equestrian territory, Starlight.”
For once, she was the one who was baffled. “W-what?”
“This is new Accipio,” Gaius said, speaking before Velar could. “Ambassador, there is another section. Further down, I believe. Guinevere, do you remember?”
She nodded. “Land rights are point sixteen. You’ll find it there.”
Starlight opened the scroll again, scanning down as fast as she possibly could. But the empress didn’t wait for her to finish reading.
“This is our territory now. Every acre is an Accipian province, this whole blasted dry rock you gave us down in the Badlands. Ours until the end of the treaty’s terms, at which point we agree to return this territory to you without violence. Well, Accipio is still buried in ash and worse, and we both know we won’t get ordinary growing seasons for a decade if we’re lucky. The ponies down there never left Accipian territory. That treaty was signed before any birds landed here.”
It hit Starlight Glimmer like a physical weight then. Ponies were experts with all forms of conversation and diplomacy, it was true. Even the griffons acknowledged it. Yet somehow, impossibly, they had found a way to hide something in the treaty that even Celestia hadn’t noticed.
Of course, she didn’t notice, idiot. She was busy trying to keep the world from ending. She trusted you to be the one to read the treaty. Even Twilight, who had less power over the land (and thus more time to follow current events), had largely trusted to her judgement. “B-but… when you got here, there were… there was a whole airship full of pony slaves you gave back!”
Gaius shrugged. “We never signed anything saying we couldn’t voluntarily free any slave we chose. It is the right of any master to grant freedom to the slaves, releasing them from his household.”
Starlight barely heard as he continued. She could see the truth in it—a diplomatic ruse. The ponies returned to Equestria had been wretches, the descendants of distant Equestrian colonies that had been slaves for many lifetimes. They had been sickly, hungry—not abused, perhaps, but not terribly skilled either. Not strong earth ponies, or powerful unicorns, or fast pegasi. Only the weak.
They tricked us, Starlight realized. Send the ones they don’t want to take care of anymore, and we might not get specific with our investigation. And they hadn’t. Starlight hadn’t bothered being on the ground to do enforcement. As a matter of fact, that was very much against the terms of the treaty. Violations were to be reported and mediated by the emperor’s house and the princesses directly. The birds had not been willing to tolerate constant supervision in their midst, as they had been with the constant threat of volcanic death looming over them.
“I should… I should go.” Starlight backed away, banishing the text of the treaty with a flash. “I think I… I think I need to write a letter.”
Velar shrugged, though she could see from his expression he was disappointed. “The most interesting contests always happen on the second day. Will you be back tomorrow at least?”
Stupid not-prince has no idea what this means. Starlight shifted uncomfortably from one hoof to the next. “I, uh… I’m not sure.” She vanished in a flash.
Tucked away in the back corner of new Scythia was a stone building made to look just like the newer ones slowly rising around it. But Starlight’s secret retreat didn’t have a door—only airholes that even a foal might have trouble getting through.
The proper embassy was elsewhere, with a staff of half a dozen ponies and guards provided by the emperor. Starlight Glimmer had considered herself lucky to have them—even joked with those guards, grateful that the patches on their uniforms meant she was in the presence of reasonable birds.
They were griffons, but they would give up their incivility. They’d given up keeping pony slaves, eventually they would let go of the practice entirely.
Yet, they hadn’t. Everything she’d thought—the common defense she always sent to the tabloids when they wanted comment from the Equestrian ambassador—had been wrong. Griffons did have ponies as slaves. Their agreement to free them was meaningless, at least in their eyes. It would only be enforced if they entered Equestria.
Or so they thought.
Her safehouse wasn’t actually hard to find, considering it was in the center of the pony quarter. This was where the weather ponies and farmers they had sent were living, so long as they served in New Scythia. Half of them probably suspected what the sealed stone shell was used for. Inaccessible shelters were a long-time tactic of skilled unicorns.
But none of them were unicorns, so she couldn’t be disturbed.
Starlight Glimmer started down at the empty scroll in front of her. A dozen half-written letters were already burning in the hearth, crackling a rhythm to her distress. In the distance, she could hear metal banging, the stomping of hooves, an occasional cheer. Some of the slaves fighting in that makeshift arena were ponies. She had left the event behind, so she wouldn’t be able to see for sure if none of the later fights got ponies killed. A good reason to go the next day, perhaps. If ponies were fighting to the death for entertainment here, well… maybe the tabloids would be justified in their outrage.
Eventually she settled on the simplest possible response. Starlight Glimmer would have to own up to her mistake, and to be certain that the princesses learned about it immediately. It would be worse for all involved if this information made it back to Equestria using a different channel.
So she explained the treaty—explained how she’d been fooled. Gave her estimate of the number of remaining slaves based on the ones she’d seen in the stands of the tournament.
She had told Velar that she didn’t ever want to be a princess, and she meant it. Whatever terrible decision might be waiting to be made vanished with the scroll in a puff of magical flame. Wiser hooves than hers would be the ones to make that determination, with the fate of Equestria weighed in the balance of their choice.