//------------------------------// // 13 // Story: When Heavens Divide // by Mediocre Morsov //------------------------------// 13 “This isn’t exactly as fun as I thought it would be,” Rarity confessed with a sigh. “I think there’s a reason we don’t usually hang out,” Rainbow agreed. Their attempt to spend one of their free days at the spa together had proven a failure. Rarity couldn’t quite bring herself to apologize to Fluttershy for the “Monday Fiasco” as they had silently agreed to call it, and without her favorite spa partner, Rarity had to talk Rainbow Dash into a pampering. The sporty pegasus proved nearly as hard to convince as Applejack, but Rarity wasn’t on speaking terms with the farmer, either. After twenty minutes of pampering in awkward silence, the pair realized that – out of all their friends – they probably hung out the least. Neither could think of a thing to talk about. “I miss Fluttershy and Applejack…” they muttered in tandem, startling the other and blushing in embarrassment. “Perhaps we should try apologizing again,” Rarity suggested. “Why bother?” Rainbow sighed, “One of us is just going to say something to upset them again. I mean, sure we could apologize for supporting the current system – which we shouldn’t – but neither of us our liars; we’ll just let it slip at some point or another that we haven’t changed our minds. Then they’ll just get worked up again!” “There are other systems?” Aloe asked after finishing washing Rainbow’s mane. The pegasus blinked, having forgotten the spa ponies. “I have a friend from out of town,” Lotus Blossom said, “She comes from a town where they elect their leaders. Isn’t that something?” “Wait, so we can choose a leader other than Mayor Mare?” Aloe’s eyes widened. “Oh, no!” Lotus laughed, “Ponyville isn’t like that; Mayor Mare has been in office almost forever and above her is Princess Twilight! We can’t elect leaders.” “Exactly!” Rainbow Dash said. “I recall hearing that some towns let the towns-ponies vote on issues,” Bulk Biceps rubbed his chin, joining in on the conversation, “That might be a good idea.” “Well, we can’t let just any pony vote on decisions that could affect the whole town,” Lotus said. “Why not?” Aloe demanded, “If every pony is affected by the decision, shouldn’t they have a say?” Rarity and Rainbow sank into their seats as the spa ponies argued more heatedly, drawing in the opinions of the other customers until the peaceful spa became a tumultuous riot of political debate. Hearing the arguments that they themselves had made, the unicorn and pegasus cringed; they did sound pretty intolerant, suggesting certain ponies had more rights than others. Had they sounded like that? How degrading… “What have we done?” Rarity asked Rainbow as one pony pounced at another. The first blow thrown, the others joined in on one side or the other. Wide-eyed, Rainbow and Rarity snuck out of the spa and into the growing crowd outside, all watching curiously. Among them was a tired Applejack toting a cart of apples for sale. She blockaded the escape of her departing friends, forcing Rainbow to glide over the cart and loop around. “What the hay is going on in there?” the farmer demanded. “Oh, some silly political dispute!” Rarity said, dismissively, unwilling to look at the farmer. “You two opened your mouths again, didn’t you?” Applejack smirked. To show there was no malice in it, she offered both of them a free apple. “Well…” Rainbow grimaced, choosing to bite into the apple to avoid answering. “We… were actually discussing apologizing to you, Fluttershy, and Pinkie Pie, actually,” Rarity explained, still avoiding eye contact. “Oh,” Applejack’s smirk faded. She forced a smile on her face. “It’s alright; y’all don’t need to apologize.” “I’m not going to apologize for believing what I believe,” Rainbow sighed, “I believe in the system as it is – Element of Loyalty, and all – but I will apologize for hurting you. It’s an unfair system, and I don’t want you to think that we think you’re… not valuable. To us.” Rainbow Dash winced at how that sounded. So cheesy and uncool… Maybe she could Sonic Rainboom out of there…? “I’m sorry, too,” Applejack sighed. “What in Equestria are you sorry for?” Rarity’s eyes bulged. “Thinking so poorly of you two,” the farmer confessed, “I should have known better than to assume you two meant any ill by it.” “Yeah, you were being a little judgmental…” Rainbow said, earning a ‘ladylike’ elbow to the ribs that stole the breath from her lungs, “but, uh, so were we.” “Tell you what,” the farmer chuckled, “I’m about to unload these apples at Filthy Rich’s store. After that, why don’t we meet up with the others and try and find something to do while the spa calms down?” “Something, huh?” Rainbow raised an eyebrow. “Been awhile since we’ve had a race…” Applejack suggested, earning a grin from the pegasus. “Well, what are we waiting for?” she asked, “Let’s get those apples delivered!” The trio walked away, their spirits on the mend. Rarity spared a look over her shoulder as the arguments boiled over into the streets and the towns-ponies split into groups. Surely this would all blow over… … “You guys look awful,” Apple Bloom frowned at the twins at the group study session. Big Mac had taken to joining their group, using Spike’s presence as an excuse to be more direct in his protection. “The Old Ponish class ran later than we thought…” Flam confessed. Despite his exhaustion, him and Flim had made considerable progress in their studies, keeping pace with the fillies in their readings. “Soon we’ll be able to win over any mare with classical poetry, brother,” Flim chortled, then paled at a looming Big Mac, “…I mean, soon we’ll be respectable and educated stallions who mares may or may not find attractive.” “I doubt it,” the red stallion rumbled. “You should take a night class, Big Macintosh,” Apple Bloom suggested, earning a bewildered look, “I mean, you’re pretty honorable and protective… You should take Luna’s chivalry course.” “Yeah, that’d be awesome!” Spike agreed, “Think about it; the two of us training as knights by Luna, herself! She slays monsters all the time!” “The three of us,” Scootaloo corrected, “Don’t forget about me.” “Or us,” the twins said. “Are you two going to jump in on that, too?” Sweetie asked Trixie and Starlight. “Trixie only came for the magic course,” the magician sighed, tossing a copy of one of the political manifestos aside, “She’s tried the politics thing; it’s very boring.” “It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours yet!” Starlight pointed out. “Trixie is just as surprised as you!” the magician confessed, “She thought she’d last at least a week, but alas, it was too boring.” “What about you, Starlight?” Scootaloo asked, preventing the pink unicorn from retorting, “Are you going to take the chivalry course? It’s tonight!” “Well, that does sound pretty fun, but…” Starlight shrugged, “I’m more of a sorceress or warlock than a paladin.” “…What?” Sweetie tilted her head. “I’m a studious spell caster,” Starlight explained, “not a swords-pony.” “I guess I’ll be the only girl, then,” Scootaloo sighed before seeing Spike standing next to her, “Spike, have you gotten taller?” “You know, I couldn’t really tell,” the dragon smirked, “but standing next to you fillies, it’s starting to show.” “Actually, it looks like you’ve grown since we’ve left the castle,” Starlight said, doing a quick measuring of Spike, “If this keeps up you’ll be taller than Celestia in a month!” “That’s a lot of dragon,” Scootaloo shot her friends a mischievous grin. “Sure is,” Starlight said before Apple Bloom or Sweetie Belle could retort, surprising the fillies. Even Big Mac raised a questioning eyebrow, but from what little time he’d spent with Starlight, he knew she made odd jokes. Her cheeks flushed as she realized nearly every pony was eying her. “Anyway, has every pony written their letters home?” “Eeyup,” Big Mac nodded, the others nodding agreement – all but Flim and Flam, naturally. “Good!” Starlight beamed, “We can send them this Saturday after we’re done with our weekly classes, just in case something interesting happens.” “If only I understood how I send letters,” Spike grumbled, “then we wouldn’t have to wait.” “Have you tried asking Princess Celestia?” Scootaloo asked, “I mean, she is the one who, uh…” The pegasus fell silent, not exactly sure how to word it. Acquired? Purchased? The fact Spike’s birth had seen him as a piece of property was a thoroughly awkward point, but the dragon only nodded at the idea. “She should know,” Spike agreed, “I mean, if Twilight didn’t.” “You could always try asking Princess Luna, too,” Sweetie Belle suggested, “She’s very knowledgeable on…” Again an awkward silence. Sweetie winced at the fact she had almost said “monsters”. Dragons were an ancient enemy of the ponies, one that had been feared and treated as beasts in the past. This time, Spike grimaced while he nodded. “Alright, I’ll ask her, too,” Spike sighed. “So…” Starlight broke the awkward silence settling in, “Guy’s Night is Saturday, right?” “Eeyup,” Big Mac cleared his throat. “Ooo, a Guy’s Night?” Flim rubbed his chin, “Am I to understand this is a soiree filled with masculine antics and debauchery?” “Uh… something like that?” Spike chuckled. “We play a board game,” Scootaloo smirked at the others’ consternation, “What? Oh come on, you didn’t really think it was a secret, did you?” “It really wasn’t,” Starlight whispered to Spike. “I know, but it’s the spirit of the tradition!” the dragon groaned, “And Ogres and Oubliettes is not a ‘board game’; it is a sophisticated and in-depth tabletop role-playing game.” “Nerds…” Trixie muttered under her breath as she lazily flipped through some of the other books the students had gathered. Some of it wasn’t too boring, but she certainly wasn’t going to take a class over it. “It’s surprisingly fun, though Sweetie and I rarely join in,” Apple Bloom said, “Rainbow Dash got Scootaloo to try it, and she got us to try it, and well… now there’s something of a secret society in Ponyville.” “Secret society in…” Flim repeated, shaking his head, “I’d prefer the debauchery, personally.” “If Discord visits, then you should talk to him,” Spike chuckled, “I’m sure you three would get along great.” “That’s a horrible idea!” Apple Bloom gaped. The Lord of Chaos and the Flim-Flam Brothers? Hitting the town up?! “What’s a horrible idea?” Celestia asked, coming in to check on them as she often did between various royal duties. “Uh… nothing,” the farm-filly said quickly. Fortunately, Celestia seemed pretty distracted. “Tell me, did Luna talk about her constitutional duties with you last night?” the Princess asked instead, “I’m curious what she might have said…” “Duties?” Starlight’s eyes widened, “I thought that was just a group project.” “A group…” Celestia murmured, eyes widening as both her and the unicorn drew the same conclusion, “Luna is having you help her draft the constitution?” “Whoa, what?” Scootaloo shook her head, “So Equestria’s going to turn into a republic now?” “Absolutely not!” Celestia decreed, then blushed at her forcefulness, “I mean… I promised her we would discuss it further if she could finish a reasonable constitution by the end of the month.” “Sounds like you’ve already made up your mind,” Starlight frowned at the alicorn, drawing a glare from the Princess. To her credit, Starlight didn’t even blink in the face of those steely eyes. “There is a serious harmony emergency running rampant in Equestria right now,” Celestia explained, evenly, “Due to an… altercation at the World Friendship Summit, the non-ponies have formed a military alliance while the republican and imperial pony city-states have begun arguing against one another. Both sides are begging me to unite them under one nation.” “A single pony nation?” Sweetie Belle asked, “What would that even look like?” “The same as it is now, essentially,” Celestia smiled, disarmingly, “I planned on adopting the Trottingham constitution; hooves-off governance of the city-states so they can be fairly sovereign, each region governed by royalty, a flexible tax code… It would be the same as it is currently, but we’d have centralized leadership and a more unified community protected by a uniform set of laws.” “You could have all that under a republican constitution,” Apple Bloom pointed out, “I recommended Appleloosa’s constitution as our template, and it’s pretty similar to the Trottingham one, only leadership is based off of local elections.” “You can’t elect a pony above a Princess,” Scootaloo snorted at the idea, then frowned, “Wait, can you?” “The way Princess Luna puts it, it sounds like we can,” Apple Bloom said, “Doesn’t the Trottingham model have two leaders? One for foreign affairs and the other for actual governance?” “Indeed,” Celestia said, “but the Alicorn Princesses are expected to fill both roles.” “Twilight delegates governance of Ponyville to Mayor Mare most of the time,” Starlight pointed out. “Seems like the best way to meet in the middle would be to have the Princesses be in charge of foreign affairs with some kind of veto power,” Apple Bloom thought aloud, “and then us regular ponies could elect leaders to run the government.” “Good idea, but we can tweak it…” Starlight said, getting closer to the filly and writing down ideas on paper with a quill. “This is not up for debate!” Celestia said through gritted teeth, “We have decided this matter, already, and it is a decision for royalty. We are the rulers of Equestria, and we will cede power if and when we decide it is time.” “With all due respect, Princess,” Starlight said, standing defiantly while every pony else slunk back, “if it were decided, why would Luna bother with drafting a constitution? I was under the impression Equestria was a co-regency, and that that meant both of you needed to agree on this?” Celestia sighed, her anger giving over to weariness. A taut smile adorned her lips as she studied the strong-willed mare before her. “I am surprised you’ve taken to my sister’s lessons with such gusto, young Starlight,” she said, “Your doctrine is not in line with democratic thought.” “…I’ve been making amendments,” Starlight murmured. “Let me pose a hypothetical to each of you,” Celestia said, suddenly, “If you were to become an alicorn – you individually, not as a group – how would you feel that having such power no longer warranted authority? You would be a defender of the realm, by birthright a leader of a portion of Equestria, and because some ponies want to debate over issues that could easily be decided by an educated leader, you have been denied your right to rule. Worse, because of ponies who do not understand the dangers of the world, they have put into place laws that bind you and keep you from using your alicorn powers to defend them from said dangers.” “That’s pretty presumptuous,” Starlight scowled, “Just because there’s a democratic government doesn’t necessarily mean they’ll keep alicorns from doing their jobs.” “You’d be surprised what kinds of laws can pass when ponies are in a particular mood,” Celestia said, dryly. “Well, maybe the regular ponies can defend Equestria,” Scootaloo suggested, “Like the Wonderbolts and the Royal Guard?” “The Royal Guard defend the Princesses, not Equestria,” the Princess sighed, “There are barely enough to manage the castles as it is, and they haven’t faced a proper threat in ages. As for the Wonderbolts, they do aid with weather disasters, but I doubt they could handle something like a war.” “So we make an actually military,” Starlight suggested, drawing stunned looks from her friends, “What?” “A military build-up would not be advisable, given current affairs,” Celestia noted, “How about I pose this another way? Who would be the logical ponies to lead Equestria? Powerful immortals with more than a thousand years of experience as rulers and defenders? Or any pony off the street? If it came down to a vote, how many would elect the Princesses over any other candidate?” “We’d probably all vote for the Princesses…” Apple Bloom confessed. “Exactly,” Celestia sighed, sympathetic pain in her eyes, “Turning Equestria into a democracy would be futile, because every pony would ultimately vote for the Princesses. It is, however, a decent way to run local communities. I vow I will not tamper with those that operate by it.” The Princess looked at a clock on the wall, “Oh dear, time to return to the grind… See you later today, my little ponies.” After Celestia left, the males unwound, feeling the tension in the air evaporate. Spike looked enraptured by Starlight while the stallions only looked horrified. What she had done was borderline insubordination! It took courage, certainly, but Celestia had just roundly pointed out how redundant a democracy was. “Why am I even taking this class?” Apple Bloom scowled, “Politics is useless; nothing’s gonna change!” “Don’t be so sure, Apple Bloom,” Starlight narrowed her eyes, still glaring at the doorway Celestia had left through, “Change is the natural inevitability of life; it can’t be denied, and no pony can resist it.” The unicorn mare allowed herself a bleak grin at her words. “Not even a Princess.” … Dragon Lord Ember sighed, contentedly as she fell backwards onto her favorite basking rock in the Dragon Lands. Finally, the Orduud’s initial meetings had ended and the leaders could return to their homelands, sending various delegates and ambassadors to do the footwork in their steads. Ember curled herself into a loose spiral, letting the volcanic heat seep through the igneous formation and into her scales. Her eyes drifted shut… “HOW DID IT GO?” a voice like a mountain crumbling snapped her out of her near-nap. With a sigh, Ember sat up to face her father, the former Dragon Lord, Torch. He was a massive dragon; the largest Ember had ever seen. Legends said there were far older, more ancient dragons deep beneath the ground, that their backs supported the world and they were in a timeless sleep. Supposedly that’s where earthquakes came from – the dragons shifting in their sleep. Of course, those were just old legends. “How’d what go?” Ember asked. “THAT SILLY FRIENDSHIP SUMMIT, OF COURSE,” her father growled, “YOU CAME HOME IN A HUFF,ORDERING A BUNCH OF DRAGONS TO OTHER NATIONS. I CAN’T TELL IF THAT’S A GOOD THING OR NOT.” “The Summit fell apart,” Ember said, “Princess Celestia was the only pony who showed up that respected us; Twilight couldn’t make it, so it was just us against an army of intolerant jerks!” “AH, SO YOU SENT OUR KIN TO BURN AND PLUNDER!” Torch rumbled with laughter. “What? No!” Ember snorted at the prospect, “I did think about it, though. No, after the Summit fell apart, us non-ponies – that is, us, the changelings, the yaks, the donkeys, the zebras, the camels, and the griffons – made our own group, called it the Orduud, and now we’re working together. The dragons I sent are going on ambassador missions; we’re going to do military exercises soon.” “…YOU FORMED A MILITARY ALLIANCE AGAINST THE PONIES?” her father asked after some quiet thinking, “I’M NOT INTO THIS FRIENDSHIP FAD YOU YOUNG DRAKES ARE TRYING, BUT ISN’T THAT THE OPPOSITE OF FRIENDSHIP?” “Look, just be glad I had a hold on my temper,” Ember groaned, “If I had torched the place – which those pony jerks deserved, frankly – we’d have several armies of ponies up here by now led by four all-powerful alicorns.” “WE COULD TAKE THEM,” Torch rumbled. “We shouldn’t have to…” the Dragon Lord mumbled, “Anyway, this military alliance is just to make sure the pony city-states quit expanding into non-pony territories. Before I left, the buffalo tribes and several other groups expressed interest in joining, but only as neutral parties.” “SO THEY WANT PROTECTION BUT AREN’T WILLING TO HELP US?” Torch snorted, the gesture creating a heated hurricane of soot, “COWARDS.” “In the case of the buffalos, they’re pretty much surrounded; if we had to fight, the buffalo would be destroyed almost instantly,” Ember explained, “Frankly I’m surprised the zebras and the donkeys aren’t neutral; they’re in just as much risk.” “WHAT DID YOU SAY YOUR GROUP WAS CALLED?” Torch asked, “THE HAIR DO?” “The Orduud, dad,” Ember rolled her eyes, “It’s Old Yakish for ‘the Horde’. We wanted the Horde, but apparently that’s copyrighted.” “HUH,” Torch grunted, thoughtfully. “What?” his daughter asked, looking up at his wandering expression. “JUST AN OLD LEGEND MY GRANDFATHER USED TO TELL,” Torch murmured, “IT WAS ANCIENT EVEN WHEN HE WAS YOUNG.” “Whoa,” Ember’s eyes widened, “What’s it about?” “I’M NOT THE BEST AT THESE ORAL TRADITION THINGS,” Torch sighed, stretching out alongside his volcano, “THE GIST OF IT WAS THE PONIES WOULD EVENTUALLY EXPAND BEYOND THEIR BORDERS.THEY’D BECOME SO POWERFUL THEY’D TRY AND CONQUER US.IT WAS A PRETTY SILLY STORY, ACTUALLY; THE PONIES? CONQUER US?” “That is pretty funny,” Ember chuckled at the idea of those squishy, friendship-obsessed creatures conquering anyone, “But what did it have to do with the Orduud?” “THE LEGEND SPOKE OF A DRAGON, SOMETIMES BORN OUTSIDE THE DRAGON LANDS, SOMETIMES AN ORPHAN…” Torch struggled to remember all the details, “ANYWAY, THE DRAGON WOULD UNITE US, AND IN SOME STORIES OTHER NON-PONIES. THEN THERE’D BE AN EPIC FINAL BATTLE BETWEEN US – THE ‘GREAT HORDE’ – AND THE PONIES.” “Wow, that’s something,” Ember whistled, “There was more than one version?” “FROM WHAT MY GRANDFATHER TOLD ME,” Torch rumbled, “THE STORY BECAME PRETTY POPULAR WHEN THOSE ALICORN SISTERS TOOK OVER AND STARTED EXPANDING.SO, NATURALLY, EVERY DRAGON HAD THEIR OWN VERSION OF THE STORY.THE HERO’S GENDER, AGE, WHERE THEY CAME FROM, WHETHER THEY HAD PARENTS… EVERY DRAGON HAD THEIR OWN OPINION.EVEN THE OUTCOME OF THE BATTLE VARIED, BUT THE ‘GREAT HORDE’ AND WHAT THEY CALL THE HERO STAYED THE SAME.” “So the hero had a name?” Ember asked, her drowsiness forgotten with this tale from her heritage. “NOT A NAME,” Torch shook his head slowly, “A TITLE. THURDOJUN.” Ember tilted her head, raising an inquisitive eyebrow, “What the heck does that mean?” “I DON’T KNOW,” Torch shrugged, “IT’S OLD DRACONIC; MINE’S PRETTY RUSTY SINCE EVERYONE USES THE NEW STUFF.IF YOU DON’T KEEP USING IT, YOU LOSE IT, Y’KNOW.” “I know, dad,” Ember sighed and rolled her eyes, “Maybe I’ll ask one of the Princesses.” “HOW COULD A PONY KNOW SOMETHING ABOUT US WE DON’T KNOW?” Torch snorted. “Because they actually write everything down,” Ember laughed, “Unless you know where the legend is carved? And how to read Old Draconic?” Torch conceded the point with a grunt. “STILL, AREN’T YOU AT WAR WITH THEM?” “No!” Ember scoffed, “This will all blow over, and soon our groups will probably merge and put this all behind us. Right now, though, things are rough.” A moment of silence passed between them as they laid side by side next to volcano, watching the layers of red-tinged sulfur clouds pass. “This Thurdojun…” Ember said, slowly, “he’s an outsider? An orphan?” “SO ONE LEGEND SAYS,” Torch rumbled, turning to eye his successor, “AND I NEVER SAID THEY WERE A GUY.” “I only know one dragon that wasn’t born in the Dragon Lands,” Ember said, “It just seems pretty coincidental.” “YEAH, WELL DON’T PUT A LOT OF STOCK INTO APOCALYPTIC STORIES,” Torch chuckled, “YOU’RE THE DRAGON LORD, NOW. SAVE LOOKING FOR THE THURDOJUN UNTIL AFTER THE PONIES START CONQUERING LANDS.” Ember shared in her father’s laughter at the idea, but inside she was worried. Saddle Arabia’s expansion into Cameloo, Appleloosa’s seizure of the buffalo lands… and weren’t all the pony lands formerly inhabited by other races? If that wasn’t conquest, what was? … Apple Bloom wasn’t sure how she should interpret the classes she was taking anymore. Celestia’s friendship lessons had become more aggressive, her interpretations on Starswirl’s Compendium shifting away from “let bygones be bygones” to “sometimes you have to forcefully help others see the truth”. Flim and Flam took to these lessons with their usual level of enthusiasm, but the Cutie Mark Crusaders occasionally exchanged looks of concern over Celestia’s sudden lack of smiles. The farm-filly then thought back over the political science class that just ended. Starlight and her had contributed greatly to amending the proposed constitution, especially now that they knew how serious it was. Spike offered a few points on phrasing it so it wasn’t exclusive to ponies, but there were so many allusions to equines that some inevitably slipped through the gaps. “Does Appleloosa have two leaders?” Luna asked, raising an eyebrow at their suggestion, “Would it not be more efficient to have one overall leader?” “It would, but checks and balances are pretty important to democratic systems,” Starlight giggled, “You don’t want this to turn into Our Town, right?” “No, I suppose not,” Luna conceded, “still, I believe one leader would be more efficient. It works for Appleloosa, and I am a firm believer in social contracts. A leader is only a leader so long as she has ponies to lead.” “And dragons,” Spike added. “Yes, Spike,” Luna giggled, “We shall keep the single leader, alright?” “Oh,” Starlight frowned, “I just thought that, since there would be so much work, it would be better to split the office in two…” “Equestrians are used to a singular ruler,” Luna said, “It is a co-regency, but if it came down to listening to my sister or me, who do you think most ponies would defer to?” Her students stayed silent. “We could style the leadership more on Ponyville,” Apple Bloom suggested, “One leader for foreign affairs, the other for domestic, but one has supreme authority over both duties.” “Which office would that be?” Spike asked. “Well, the Princesses usually focus on foreign affairs and leave everyday governance to their subjects, so that model should work,” Apple Bloom suggested. “Two elections for two leaders seems a little redundant,” Luna murmured, “If the foreign affairs office already has overall authority, shouldn’t she also be allowed to appoint the domestic leader?” “That doesn’t sound very democratic,” Apple Bloom said, “We need a checks and balance system… Oh! How about every city-state elect a representative so they have a voice in government? They can have veto power over the foreign affairs officer’s choice in domestic leader! They can even propose laws and such.” “That sounds… fair,” Starlight conceded, but was disappointed. The foreign affairs leader still had a lot of power… “We should probably name the offices.” “Let’s see…” Spike looked through his notes. He didn’t contribute much to the actual discussions, but he was the greatest note-taker and minutes-keeper Luna had ever seen. “There isn’t really a national-level title since there’s never been a nation… you can’t elect Princesses… How about president? Means they ‘preside’ over stuff. Could be a good title.” “Sounds good,” Apple Bloom agreed, “but for which office?” “How about we find two titles then decide which fits best,” Starlight suggested, still trying to get over being snubbed. “Um… premier? Maybe…” Spike thumbed through his notes, “Oh, here’s a good one! Chancellor.” “Chancellor?” Luna smiled at the title, “That sounds nice, actually. What does that mean?” “Secretary, I think,” the dragon shrugged. “If that’s the case, it’s obvious President should be the title for the overall authority office, while Chancellor is the appointed office for domestic affairs,” Luna said. The others nodded agreement, and Starlight agreed it sounded good. The rest of the meeting had been searching out flaws and trying to tweak them so the constitution could work on a national level. There was still so much to sift through… Could they even finish it by the next Friday? Apple Bloom left the class feeling a different kind of exhausted than usual, surprised to run into Scootaloo. “Hey every pony – and Spike,” Scootaloo beamed, “You ready for the chivalry class?” “It’s all I could think about, honestly,” the dragon chuckled, startled when the pegasus put him in a sudden headlock. “Are you sure?” Scootaloo smirked, “Your reflexes seem a little slow…” Spike used his newfound reach to wrap his arms around the filly’s torso, lifting her up and falling backward, forcing her to let go with a squeak so she could brace herself for the fall. They hit the tile with an ‘oof!’ and started laughing in a jumble. Scootaloo noticed Starlight and Apple Bloom glaring at her and couldn’t help snickering. “What’s wrong, ladies?” the pegasus stood up, “Jealous?” “Jealous?!” the two spluttered, shooting glares at each other as much as at Scootaloo. “Why would I be jealous of you two acting like goofballs?” Apple Bloom scoffed, “Rolling around on the ground… we’re in a castle, for goodness’ sake!” “I think you know that’s not exactly what I’m talking about,” the pegasus snorted, wrapping a foreleg around Spike’s neck and bringing him into a friendlier headlock to demonstrate how physically close the two could get without feeling awkward. “Okay, Scoots, don’t make it weird,” Spike laughed, still not sensing the tension. “I’m not jealous,” Starlight lied, expertly putting on her most disarming face. It had been a dream, of course. She knew Spike would go with someone closer to his age than her, and honestly wasn’t this better? She should just rip the bandage off sooner rather than later, right? “In fact, I think you two look cute together.” “What?!” this time Spike and Scootaloo spluttered, shoving away from each other, faces flushed in embarrassment. Their reaction made Starlight smile and even Apple Bloom had to cover her mouth to avoid guffawing. “You know I like Rumb…” Scootaloo winced, “I mean, let’s go Spike! They’re being weird.” “Yeah, no joke,” Spike laughed, following Scootaloo. He looked over his shoulder as Starlight departed, feeling his heart sink. When was he going to learn to quit getting his hopes up over fancy unicorn mares? Starlight was so perfect, too… He didn’t even notice Apple Bloom watching him with the same grief he watched Starlight with. Soon they met the others in a courtyard, and Luna arrived shortly after that, having finished her task of putting class materials away. As with all their courses, it would only take two hours and then they could sleep it off at 8:00PM. With her was an older member of her Royal Guard dragging a cart they couldn’t see the contents of. He was a pegasi, or at least had wings of a sort, though Scootaloo had only seen the like on bats. Jet black coat, glittering, dark-blue eyes, and glinting fangs sent a shiver down the young pegasus’ spine. Were the Night Guard born like that, or was sorcery used to change them? “Good evening, whelps,” Luna greeted them in a significantly harsher fashion, glaring down at them in contempt that was at odds with the almost-motherly enthusiasm from half an hour ago, “You are here because you wish to be trained in the arts of honorable combat and chivalrous virtues. The training will be grueling, exhausting, and will have to be carried on beyond these weekly sessions. Every day you will meet with Night Bane when you have free time and will train for no less than two hours with him; you will read the works of Equestria’s greatest knights and heroes, and you will show me that you understand the virtues of knighthood; you will be expected to accompany me on nightly runs against the monsters that threaten our lands when I call upon you to do so, no matter the hour. Those of you with weak fortitudes should leave.” Flim turned to do so and was pulled back by his brother. “You expect me to help slay a monster?” Scootaloo gaped, feeling a rush of terror. Sure, the idea had flitted through her mind, but it wasn’t like any of them actually expected to use their lessons beyond the classroom. “I’ll handle this, Your Highness,” the Guard, Night Bane, growled out, approaching Scootaloo. He towered over her and she felt her knees grow weak, sinking lower. “Are you afraid, filly?” “N-no…” Scootaloo squeaked. “You don’t sound so sure,” Night Bane cocked his head, smugly, “I’ve heard of you. You’re the protégé to the Element of Loyalty, aren’t you? Rainbow Dash must be dumber than she looks if she’d force a scared little filly under her wing.” “You take that back!” Scootaloo snapped, her fear overridden by a moment of blind anger, “Rainbow Dash is the coolest, greatest pony in Equestria!” Night Bane smirked in triumph, looking at his Princess. “My mistake,” he conceded, “she seems plenty brave to me, shouting defiantly in the face of her instructor like that.” Scootaloo’s face flushed in embarrassment, but her friends were nodding in approval. Night Bane strolled among the remaining candidates, taking measure of each of them. A curious raised eyebrow at Spike; a dragon knight? That was unusual. Unimpressed looks at the Flim-Flam brothers. He stopped at Big Macintosh and narrowed his eyes at him, secretly pleased at him tensing up. “The Lady of the Night attended a carnival with you once, did she not, farmer?” Night Bane growled, “They must grow them big and dumb out there for you to pass up making that a regular thing with Her Highness.” Big Mac gulped, eyes sliding to the cold visage of Princess Luna, a blush creeping across his cheeks. “Well, they aren’t the worst lot I’ve seen,” the veteran declared as he strolled back to Luna’s side, “I have no doubt we can turn each of them into a proper defender of the realm, provided they put in the effort.” “I wholeheartedly agree, Night Bane,” Luna nodded, using her magic to levitate items out of the cart. A heavy iron-wrought ball, decorated in spikes and attached to a wooden shaft by a thick chain slammed into the ground, startling the would-be knights. “This,” the Princess said, “is a morning-star.” “Cool…” Scootaloo’s eyes widened. “I agree,” Luna allowed herself a small smile before slipping back to her more militant demeanor, “This is my weapon of choice, but each of you might find something else that works for you. Typically, a Royal Guard is expected to be expert in the arts of spear and bow, and sometimes sword, but a knight… this is a far older tradition. You will be expected to master all Equestrian weapon-forms that you are capable of performing.” “Capable of performing?” Spike repeated, questioningly. He flinched back at the dark glares from the Princess and her assistant. “I shall tell you this once, squire,” Luna said, “interrupting your instructors is very ill-advised,” Spike gulped and stayed silent, “An answer is, however, in order. You might have noticed that the Royal Guard is made up of predominantly earth ponies and pegasi, but that unicorns have been known to join their ranks. While I by no means want to discourage ponies from trying any and all skills that they can, we can only instruct martial art forms based on common ability. For instance, all three can wield swords and spears well enough, pegasi and earth ponies using their mouths and hooves where a unicorn can use either or their magic. Some weapons, however, are too difficult for any but a unicorn to wield.” “Or too dangerous,” Night Bane added. “Quite, though I have seen non-unicorns become experts in even weapons designed exclusively for unicorns,” Luna said, “This morning-star, for instance, is extremely dangerous for one without magic to wield, but it can be done. Even with magic, there is a great risk of striking one’s self with the head. It’s quite painful.” “You will begin your training with spear and sword,” Night Bane explained, “but in time, you will be allowed to practice with other weapons. Every warrior has their preference, but a true knight must know how to wield anything at their disposal.” Luna levitated a series of sticks and thick, wooden versions of swords. Flim and Flam took theirs with levitation, while Big Mac and Scootaloo carried theirs in their mouths, holding their heads awkwardly from being unused to the weight. Luna stopped at Spike and furrowed her brow. “You will be interesting to train…” she confessed, “Ponies learned the art of the sword from griffons, who used their talons to grasp the handles. I imagine you can do the same with your hands, but we cannot teach you any forms.” “If I may, Your Majesty,” Night Bane said, drawing her attention, “I have studied ancient griffon martial arts manuals on the subject; I believe he can learn the forms from them. Beyond that, the basic principles are the same.” “Then I will leave the training of Spike’s forms to you, Night Bane,” Luna smiled, but it disappeared when she looked at the recruits, “Now, squires, we shall teach you the basics of weapon safety, then we shall go into your first true chivalry lesson: understanding the nobility.” The squires exchanged curious expressions, not understanding the connection. “I see it’s been awhile,” Luna allowed herself a chuckle, “I must confess, it was difficult to find ponies to fill the ranks of my Night Guard. The ancient ways of the warrior have long been forgotten. Since we have so much work to do, and so little time to do it, imitate Night Bane’s stances while I explain.” Night Bane drew his own sword, which Scootaloo stared at in awe: a deeply curved blade with wide spines along the back, imitating the shape of a bat’s wing. He held it in his mouth, head slightly tilted the opposite way to counter the weight of the blade, his muzzle protected by a guard. Flim, Flam, and Big Mac attempted to draw their blades, but it was slow going and filled with fumbling, their necks unused to reaching back for something at their belts. Scootaloo, naturally dexterous, unsheathed her wooden sword in one go, but struggled to keep the blade aloft due to its immense weight. Night Bane sheathed his own blade and walked amongst them, fixing their postures and explaining how to hold attention to the blade and always watch where it’s pointing, noting that one wrong turn of the head could accidentally spear the pony next to them. Meanwhile, Luna began her explanation. “In the days of my youth, before my corruption at the hooves of Nightmare Moon, the Royal Guard was much the same as it is today, but we would have champions among them who were true leaders among warriors,” she said, “They were lords and ladies of the nobility, trained to fight and function independently in the field, unlike the Guard who are expected to fight as a unit. They were of noble blood and were as much general as they were warrior, able to command the Guard in battle. Night Bane is currently one of a handful of my Night Guard that have been trained in such ways, and thus one of the commanders of my force. Celestia also has her own such champions, and you are of course familiar with Shining Armor in the Crystal Empire.” “Who?” Flim and Flam asked in tandem, voices muffled by the handles in their mouths. “You will be expected to understand military strategy,” Luna continued as if the twins hadn’t spoken, “I will not train you in the arts of leadership, for being a leader is not something that can be taught so much as learned. Observe your betters, imitate their manners, and in time you might understand how and why we lead. Then you might be a leader.” “Princess Luna?” Scootaloo asked, her voice also muffled. The Princess raised an eyebrow at her, waiting, so Scootaloo expertly sheathed her sword despite only seeing it done once. “All this talk about nobility and betters… Nobles are born into their families, right?” “Yes,” Luna nodded, slowly, trying not to smile as Scootaloo asked the questions she wanted the filly to ask. “If nobles are born, and they’re better, then why are we training?” the pegasus tried to stay firm, but really wished she could rub her foreleg to alieve her anxiety, “I know I’m not in your political class anymore, but you seemed so intent on democracy, which is all about us being equal – I think. I don’t understand how you can follow a system that teaches about birthright while teaching one about every pony being born with the same rights…” A perfect opening, just as the Princess wanted. “I was not always so fond of democracy, young squire,” Luna confessed, “It took me some time to adjust to the changes the world had gone through, but when I did, I began to study and embrace them. I found I admired much of democratic thought, but I too realized there was a conflict between my ancient notions of chivalry and my new fondness for democracy, but then I realized something astounding.” “What?” Scootaloo asked after Luna had paused. “Many of the noble families are different, now,” Luna explained, “Houses that were, a thousand years ago, the definition of all things noble in Equestria, had been corrupted in my absence and punished with loss of title, while families that were unimpressive or destitute before my banishment have become the masters of great fortunes and power. The Elements of Harmony also opened my eyes, for I saw two earth ponies from agricultural roots, and to middle-class pegasi, rub shoulders with an as-yet-unnoticed unicorn business-mare and a librarian, all of which became the saviors of Equestria. More impressive still, I witnessed that same librarian become an Alicorn Princess. “I have learned that birthright is meaningless. In the end, true nobility very well might be something you are born with, but it is not inherited. So I have amended the ancient art of chivalry to be more in line with my newfound democratic ideals – any pony can become a knight, provided they show knightly virtues.” “Aren’t knights supposed to serve lords, though?” Spike asked, holding his sword in a series of stances that Night Bane corrected, working from the Night Guard’s memory of griffon stances, “If we elect our leaders, who would knights serve?” “An interesting question,” Luna mused, “I had planned for the Royal Guard to become the Republican Guard if we transitioned, and for them to swear oaths of allegiance to the constitution before the leaders. They would still guard the castles and the Princesses, but they would guard the elected leaders as well, and if any leader proved corrupt, they would choose the constitution above the leader. Logically, knights would do the same.” “Do all knights look the same?” Flim asked, going through stances slowly, in-step with his twin. “Flim once sold ‘original’ murals from Nippony depicting fancy knights, but they looked a lot different from ours,” Flam added. “Different city-states have their own takes on knights, and newer ones like Appleloosa don’t have any at all,” Luna explained, “Nippony is one example, but Saddle Arabia is another, influenced by the camels as we were from the griffons. Despite differences in appearance and weapons, each city-state once had warriors dedicated to lords and ladies.” “Are we bringing them back?” Scootaloo asked, unsheathing her wooden blade and duplicating Night Bane’s stances in-step with the others. “Hopefully,” Luna smiled at the fact the filly had already figured out how to speak with the handle in her mouth, “Now, enough chit-chat. You will practice changing between these three stances for the duration of the class. You will see Night Bane every day hereafter, and he will teach you the spear. I expect you to be proficient in both by next week.” Within twenty minutes, only Big Mac was keeping up with Night Bane without struggle, the others unused to continuous physical exertion. It had seemed so easy, waving a wooden stick around, but the muscles in their necks and jaws, and in Spike’s arms, grew steadily fatigued. Luna eyed each of them in turn, but let her eyes flit over Big Mac a little longer. He was slow, his movements heavy, but they were by no means sloppy. The farmer was steady, reliable, and his sword strokes reminded Luna of scything fields of wheat, almost hypnotic in his motions. The twins were almost as hypnotic, their movements organized, their blades dancing as one, levitated by their magic. A few more months of training and they’d give the Wonderbolts a run for their bits in terms of organized movement. Her eyes drifted to the two most promising students, however. Scootaloo and Spike had the most genuine interest in the course, and both were giving it their all with impressive results. Scootaloo’s natural dexterity and her raw determination to perfect physical tricks had her moving with surprising grace, refusing to tire at the weight of the blade. Luna found herself watching Spike, as well. She had never seen swords wielded in the manner they had originally been intended, but here was a dragon mimicking the forms of griffons. It was far more graceful than a pony could imitate with their muzzles, though still unrefined. Logically, though, a dragon didn’t really require a sword; their claws and fangs were strong enough to cut diamonds, and their fire had magical properties. Seeing even the twins’ magic flicker, even Big Mac’s strength begin to falter, Luna called an end to their session, immediately reverting to her more cordial attitude. Night Bane prepared towels and canteens of water for each of the squires, which they guzzled gratefully. After cooling down, they began to file out, but Spike turned back towards Luna. “Princess Luna?” he asked. “Yes, Spike?” she replied, stopping in her task of repacking the cart. “You know a lot about… monsters, right?” the drake asked, looking sick at the word. “Of course,” Luna said evenly, though concern was writ on her face, “Why do you ask?” “Do you know anything about dragons?” Spike asked and Luna’s eyes widened. With a signal to Night Bane, the guard finished packing the cart and left the two alone in the courtyard. “I know much about many of pony-kind’s ancient enemies,” Luna confessed, “I am not sure how well my particular knowledge will be of use, however. I studied them so I could defeat them; I know little about their culture and history outside of their legends and military history.” “What do you know about their fire?” the dragon asked. “That all of it is particularly hot, but each dragon is capable of performing certain feats with their breath that others cannot,” Luna shrugged, “For instance, you can deliver letters with yours, and it only appears to work on letters.” “Can I control it?” he asked, “Like, where to send it?” Luna studied him for a moment, thinking. “I believe I have a book in the library on dragon magic,” she said, “Why don’t you attend the magic course Monday? Perhaps I can teach you something.” Spike smiled, nodding at the offer before his fatigue slammed into him. Yawning, he bid farewell before dragging himself towards his room. Luna watched him depart, contemplating his growing size. He had been shorter than the Cutie Mark Crusaders, hadn’t he? No longer. Perhaps she should read more on dragons when she had the chance, but her constitution took precedence. Celestia would see Equestria’s future was as a republic, one way or the other.