//------------------------------// // Hearts And Minds // Story: Tales From the Phoenix Empire // by Chengar Qordath //------------------------------// It is only natural to be curious about the progress of my element bearers, especially in light of some their recent trials and tribulations. However, in doing so I face one of the age-old problems of anyone attempting oversee another: the observer effect. All of them will radically modify their behavior in the presence of their Empress, no matter how much I try to remain in the background. The only solution is to remain hidden in the course of my observations, something that I am fortunately quite able to do. Divination is not my forte, but with nearly a millennium of experience in the magical arts even my lesser talents are still considerable enough that neither Twilight nor Sunset detected my scrying spell. My element bearers are assembled in my vault for their weekly meeting, attempting to unravel the secret of the Elements of Harmony. Just as they had done for the last eleven months. Progress has been somewhat less than I would have hoped. Sunset is hard at work channeling several new spells into Twilight’s element, while Twilight herself alternates between recording results and reading through several of the tomes I loaned them. I know for a fact that Twilight has already read each of them several times, and while I commend her worth ethic I doubt she will glean any new insights from a sixth reading. She doubtless already has the books memorized by now. While my students are hard at work on one of the elements, the rest are occupying themselves in other ways. Fluttershy and Ditzy are exchanging idle gossip and catching up, while Rarity alternates between reviewing her lesson plans and making a few tweaks to her Sapphire Guardian costume so the belt will stop riding up over the course of several hours of patrolling. Rainbow Dash is the most openly impatient, rolling her element about in her hooves as if it is nothing more than an oversized ball. After several minutes of this, she finally gives voice to the thought that has been brewing in her mind for months. “This is stupid.” Rarity closes her notebook, sighing. “I hate to say it, but she has a point. I’m sure Sunset and Twilight are doing their best, but I don’t feel like we’ve made any real progress with these elements since the Empress first showed them to us.” Ditzy grimaces and nods along. “I’ve done dozens of tests and checked every resource I have, and I still have no idea what these things are even made of. Never mind figuring out how they’re supposed to work.” Twilight groans and slams her book shut. “I just don’t get it. Nothing seems to be working. I’ve spent months researching these things, and I still haven’t gotten any closer to figuring out how to activate them.” Rainbow scoffs and rolls her eyes. “So this has all been one big waste of time. Great.” Sunset shoots an annoyed look her way, but quickly regains control of her temper. “Maybe we just can’t activate them under controlled conditions? Considering they’re supposed to be some sort of magical superweapon that destroys great evils, they might just be dormant until there’s some sort of evil force for them to oppose.” “Possibly.” Twilight frowns down at her element, carefully inspecting it. “It definitely feels like we’re missing something. Like there’s a 2500 piece puzzle, but we only have 2499 of the pieces we need.” “I think we’re missing a lot more than just one piece,” Ditzy murmurs. “The question is where we’re supposed to find the answers. I doubt the Empress would hold anything back if these are as important as she’s making them out to be.” “She might if she felt like it,” Rainbow grumbles. Sunset rolls her eyes at Rainbow’s typical sourness. “Considering how important using these successfully is, I can’t imagine why she would. Can anyone think of any reason why she’d want to make it harder for us to save her own empire?” Twilight frowns and pokes her own element with a careful hoof. “It might be she was hoping we would find out something about them that she hasn’t been able to on her own. That makes way more sense than her bringing us together to try and find out a bunch of information she already knows. Maybe if she wanted independent confirmation for her own conclusions, but you’d think  she’d get it in an less strangely convoluted way if that was the case.” “I’m not really good at analyzing magical artifacts,” Fluttershy agrees. “I’m afraid that unless it’s armed combat, unarmed combat, battlefield tactics, field medicine, pediatric medicine, pathology, preventative care, or veterinary medicine, there’s really not a whole lot I can do to help.” “Nice humble brag, ‘Shy.” Rainbow chuckles as her friend’s face lights up in a modest blush. “Still, none of this makes sense. If she’s got no idea how these things are supposed to work or how we make them work, why’s she betting everything on us?” Twilight grimaces, her eyes dropping down to the floor. “Knowing the Empress, this probably isn’t her only strategy to defeating Nightmare Moon.” One of her hooves slowly scrapes along the floor. “She always tells us it’s important to have a backup plan. Actually, you want more than one backup, just in case the first one doesn’t work out either. And ... well, she’s had nine hundred years to plan for Nightmare Moon’s return.” Ditzy nods along thoughtfully. “It’s one of those basic rules that gets hammered into us in engineering school: test everything, and then make it twice as good as you think it needs to be. I mean, the Elements are basically the equivalent of an untested prototype. You don’t bet everything on something you can’t count on.” She scowls and nudges her element. “But ... at the same time, just because the Empress probably has a backup plan doesn’t mean we should just give up. I don’t want to let her down.” Rainbow grunts and scowls at the floor. “For once, we’re all on the same page. I’m not okay with giving up and hoping Plan B is up to the job. For all we know, they’re having just as much of a bad time as we are, and are desperately hoping we don’t drop the ball.” Sunset clenches her teeth, rising to her hooves. “Yeah, there’s no way we’re giving up and failing. Not if I have anything to say about it.” Her horn lit as she shot a beam of raw power into one of the rocks. The rock slowly lifted into the air, suspended in a magical field that matched Sunset’s magical aura. When that does not yield the results she wants, Sunset closes her eyes and groans in effort, her horn lighting up almost painfully bright. Ditzy and the other pegasi shield their eyes with their wings, while Rarity uses her notebook to block the light. Twilight is the only one who does not turn away, worrying at her lower lip as she watches her lover’s work. “Sunset, be careful—you can’t just brute force it! The backlash could really hurt you!” Sunset gasps and releases the spell before it can go any further. The backlash from her spell would have knocked her back against the walls if not for Twilight cushioning the blast. The Element of Harmony settles back down to the floor, seemingly unchanged. The others stare at it hopefully for several seconds before Rainbow finally voices their collective frustration. “Aaaand nothing was accomplished.” Twilight sighs and nuzzles her lover. “It was a good effort.” Sunset grimaces and returns the touch. “Thanks.” The disappointed frown on her lips makes it plain how little Twilight’s words comfort her. Rarity frowns thoughtfully, taking a closer look at the element. “I don’t think we're going to accomplish anything with brute force.” Ditzy nods in agreement. “Another engineering rule of hoof: if you have to force it, you’re doing it wrong.” “That sounds right,” Twilight concedes. “If it was just a matter of raw power, I’m sure the Empress could have done the job without us. She picked the six of us for a reason, so logically whatever we need to do to make these stones work has to be something only we could do.” Rainbow scoffs and rolls her eyes. “Yeah, assuming your Empress made the right calls. Let’s face it, you two aren’t exactly wowing us with your record of success.” There is a collective intake of breath among the other ponies in the room at the barb. Twilight frowns at her, tension thick in her voice. “What’s that supposed to mean?” “It means what it sounds like,” Rainbow counters, refusing to back down from the budding conflict. “It means you can’t cut it. It means that when the pressure’s on and ponies are counting on you to succeed, you screw up and fail. Maybe that’s fine when you’re just a student, but ponies are gonna die if you mess this up.” Sunset groans and runs a hoof down her face, muttering several less-than-cordial things about Rainbow under her breath. Twilight meets the challenge directly, scowling at her. “Is this about the Elements, or is this about your friend?” Rarity pointedly clears her throat, making a token effort to defuse the argument they all know is inevitable. “Now now, let’s stay civil. I know we’re all a bit frustrated, but yelling at each other is hardly going to help.” Rainbow ignores her, glaring at my younger student. “Oh gee, did I hurt your precious little feelings? I’m so sorry that I’m still upset that your screw-ups got Cloud killed. It was so thoughtless of me to actually care about my best friend. Clearly I should think more about how hard all this is for you, and less about the fact that one my friends is dead because you can’t do anything right!” Twilight glares back in response. “For someone who wasn’t there, you seem to think you know an awful lot about what happened and what I should’ve done. Like I told you the last twenty times you got on my case, there wasn’t anything I could’ve done about it! Your friend was gone before I even knew she needed help!” Rainbow’s eyes flick to Ditzy and Fluttershy, silently seeking their support. Fluttershy refuses to meet her eyes, while Ditzy grunts and drops her gaze to the element rock resting between her hooves. Each of them handles the pain of loss in their own way; Fluttershy hides it within her heart and sheds her tears in private, while Ditzy hides from it, finding new projects and distractions to leave her with no time to dwell upon her loss. Rainbow lashes out at the world, trying to find someone to blame. She stormed towards the younger of my students, her wings aggressively flared out. “You really don’t get it, do you?! She was one of my best friends! Unlike some ponies around here, that means something to me! You don’t just forget them, or cut them out of your life because you had an argument!” Rarity steps up, quickly interposing herself between the two of them. “Rainbow, perhaps we should step out for a bit of fresh air? You know how terribly stuffy this vault can get with six ponies stuck in such a small room...” Rainbow scoffs and waves her away with a wing. “Pretty sure you can find your way outta here without me. I’m just a little busy dealing with the complete nag whose incompetence got my best friend killed!” Twilight groans and buries her face in her hooves. “For the last time, it wasn’t my fault! Empress above, you’re treating me like I’m the one who actually killed her!” “You as good as did it!” Rainbow snaps back. “I know you didn’t care about her like I did! I would’ve done anything to save her! You didn’t—Cloud didn’t mean anything to you, so you didn’t try hard enough to make it in time. And the Empress thinks you’re supposed to have some magic loyalty powers? Give me a break.” Twilight’s eye twitches, her teeth grinding. “I don’t need to listen to this. Not from somepony that wasn’t even there. If you’re such an expert, tell me how I was supposed to save a pony who was already dead before I even knew anything happened to her?! I’ve tried to be patient and understanding considering everything you’ve gone through, but I swear, if you don’t back off...” Rainbow scoffs and rolls her eyes. “Oh, what’re you gonna do?” Her eyes narrow venomously. “Lemme guess: you’re gonna threaten me with the Ministry of Heart too? From what I’ve heard, that’s pretty much your go-to solution to ponies telling you things you don’t wanna hear.” Rarity loudly clears her throat again. “I think that’s more than enough out of both of you. Perhaps it’s time for both of you to go for a powder break. You can come back once you’ve settled down enough to work together.” Ditzy and Fluttershy move in to take charge of their irate friend. Ditzy gently but firmly puts her hooves on Rainbow’s shoulders. “Rarity’s right, Rainbow. Let’s take a break.” Fluttershy nods, occupying Rainbow’s other side. “This isn’t helping anything.” For a moment it seemed as though the argument had been at least temporarily defused, but then Twilight broke the tentative truce. “What did you mean when you said that threatening ponies with the Ministry of Heart is my go-to solution? I’ve never done that.” That shatters whatever hope there was for a de-escalation as Rainbow angrily shakes away her friends, unleashing a baleful glare on my student. “Horseapples! So now we know you’re liar on top of everything else! Cadance told me what you did, and what you threatened her with.” She scoffs and tosses her head. “You’re supposed to be loyalty, but I don’t trust you to have my back. Maybe that’s why this group hasn't gotten anything done!” Twilight’s eyes narrow. “You talked to Cadance? Why would she even...” Her eyes widen as all the pieces fall into place. “You’re part of the Circle, aren’t you? That’s why Cadance told you everything!” Ditzy looks between the two of them, her eyes losing focus as she tries to track both mares at the same time. “Rainbow’s part of the what? What circle? What are you two even talking about?” Sunset holds up one of her hooves. “Wait wait wait, Starlight was mixed up with them too. So let me get this straight: Rainbow’s part of the group of crazy rebels that got her friend killed? Where the hay does she get off giving us a hard time about it?!” Rainbow snorts and rears up on her hind legs, looking as if she wants to charge my students. “I—that's a lie!” Twilight is not impressed by her bluster, scowling and standing her ground. “Is it? Why are you talking with Cadance about me threatening her then?!” “Because we’re friends!” Rainbow shoots back without a moment’s hesitation. “She could use one after what you did!” “When have you two ever been friends?” Twilight demands. “Cadance has been in Northmarch for the last year, and she never so much as mentioned you to me!” Rainbow snorts and shakes her head. “Oh yeah, I’m sure she tells you all about every friend she makes, especially after what you did to her last time she trusted you with something. What, are you upset that you didn't threaten her with the Ministry enough?” Twilight flinches back, and Sunset quickly rises to her defense. “You are just an unbelievable nag. Makes me wonder if maybe the reason you’ve been on our cases so much is because you were mixed up with Starlight. After all, both of you were running in the Circle. For all we know, Cloud Solaris found out about something you two were up to and...” Fortunately, Fluttershy and Ditzy got over their shock at the implied accusation before Rainbow herself did. I doubt one of them alone would have been able to hold Rainbow back. “You—you feathering, lying...” Rainbow snarls and tries to push her way past Ditzy and Fluttershy. “Lemme go! When I get my hooves on that worthless—” Rarity groans and buries her face in her hooves, perfectly mirroring my own thoughts on the matter. I will need to have a discussion with Sunset later to remind her that just because someone angers her is no excuse for saying something so deliberately hurtful and provocative. There is a time and place for driving a pony into blind violent rage, but it is almost never a good idea to do so with someone you need to work with the next day. Rainbow puts up a few more token struggles before finally giving up. “Okay, okay...” She waits  for Fluttershy and Ditzy to let her go and drop their guard, then tries to rush Sunset again. “You lying nag!” Fortunately, Fluttershy and Ditzy know their friend well, and catch her before she can get away and attack Sunset. Ditzy tried to reason with her. “I know she was completely out of line saying that, but she’s not worth it.” Deprived the opportunity to inflict any physical violence, Rainbow resorts to words. “Starlight was just a nut! I told Cloud she was bad news! Dammit, if she’d just listened to me...” Twilight sighs and slowly nods in agreement. “Starlight being a nut is probably one of the few things we can actually agree on.” Rainbow snorts and shakes her head. “Oh, please. You’d just love to shift the blame for Cloud’s death on anypony else, wouldn’t you? That’s why your stupid nag girlfriend is trying to make it sound like it’s my fault just because I’m in the Circle, even though that’s a total load of horseapples because Starlight got kicked out years ago. Because that means that you two didn’t screw up! But guess what? You did!” A painful silence settles over the room, until it is carefully broken by Fluttershy. “Rainbow, are you part of the Circle? Because what you just said made it sound like you are.” Rainbow freezes, realizing what she said far too late. The obvious solution would be to lie to her friends, but in the heat of the moment she hesitates. The delay drags long enough that any denial would sound insincere. She grimaces, plainly realizing the dilemma before her: to either tell an obvious lie, or admit a dangerous truth. She ultimately opts to take the middle road. “That’s ... um ... I can’t really say.” Fluttershy and Ditzy exchange a look, subconsciously taking a half-step away from her. Ditzy is the first to voice their shared thoughts. “That isn’t a no, Rainbow.” “It’s basically a confession,” Twilight points out. “No it isn’t.” Rainbow grumbles weakly. “S’just ... not saying.” Sunset crosses her forelegs over her chest. “So then, miss honesty, why don't you just say it outright? If you’re not part of the Circle, say it.” Rainbow glowers at her, regaining a bit of her fire. “You’re one to talk about your elements, Miss Magic. It’s pretty feathering obvious your magic isn’t up to the job. Not only did you screw up and get Cloud killed, you’re so bad at what you’re supposed to be doing that you don’t even have a rock like the rest of us!” Sunset is about to retort when Rarity finally snaps. Even the most composed and poised etiquette teacher can only endure so much. “Enough! I simply cannot endure this any longer! We are supposed to be a team, but all the rest of you ever want to do is hang out in your two little cliques and snap at each other! Well I am sick of it! Absolutely sick! Rainbow Dash, I understand how painful it must be to lose a close friend, but stop lashing out at the ponies who tried to help you just because you can’t accept Cloud’s death! Twilight and Sunset, try to show just a little more understanding that Rainbow is going through a difficult time, and is saying things she’ll probably regret once she has the time to think it over! Perhaps Twilight was onto something when she said we needed to work together—it certainly explains why we haven’t made a smidge of progress despite spending almost an entire year! We aren’t a team! We’ve never been a team! We’re just a bunch of ponies who don’t even like each other, crammed into a single room and ordered to find a way to save the world!” She rises to her hooves, her magic yanking open the door. “Out! All of you, out! And don’t you dare come back here until you’re capable of working together!” Rainbow starts to open her mouth, but Rarity doesn’t let her say one word. “I said OUT!” As the rest of my element wielding team slowly files out of the room, staying as far away from each other as they could while also giving Rarity a wide berth, I cancel the scrying spell and sink back into my throne. I can only find one word to sum up my thoughts on the matter. “Well ... Horseapples.” The facts before me lead to a single, inescapable conclusion. I do not like it. I have made a point of not going to that place for many years, and would have been quite content to ignore it for the rest of my immortal life. Or at least until she finally broke down and asked me to come see her. However, far more than my pride was at stake. I would not allow my empire to fall and my children to suffer because of my own stubbornness and wounded pride. Indeed, I had perhaps allowed this unspoken feud to drag on for far longer than I should have. Not that I had no cause for my anger—her actions had been deeply offensive—but allowing it to persist for so many centuries had not brought me any joy. I had simply become accustomed to our estrangement. It is a strange feeling to approach the Everfree Forest knowing what lies within, and even stranger to be doing so alone. I am somewhat accustomed to the pageantry that inevitably accompanies the role of ruler of most of the known world. Such displays of power are one of the many requirements of wearing a crown, for a ruler must always stand above their subjects. Those who suggest that I or any other monarch should cast aside the trappings of office to mingle with the commoners fail to grasp the nature of power or rulership. That is not to say that a ruler should be cold and aloof. An Empress who has no contact with her subjects might become divorced from all reality, surrounded by courtiers and sycophants. However, that contact must always be in the guise of monarch and subject. A ruler who casts aside such trappings might be tolerated as a curiosity for a time, but will soon be naught but an object of contempt. The common workers are not so foolish as to be deceived by a ruler who plays at sharing their experiences before returning to a sumptuous ten course banquet and bedding down in a palace surrounded by an army of servants. I am pondering over political philosophy to delay this meeting. It is a rather foolish thing to do. Perhaps inevitable, though. One does not lightly end an eight-century estrangement. That said, I am no coward. I take a deep breath, then step into the hidden cavern beneath the ruined castle. She is waiting for me. Not that she has any choice in the matter, given her current form. It is very strange to see the mare I once knew as a massive crystalline tree, but her presence is undeniable. Even though I have not felt her for more than eight hundred years, I could never forget Celestia. I move forward until I am plainly within her field of view, then stop. I have come this far to break the silence, she can at least do me the courtesy of speaking first. Celestia finally breaks centuries of silence once it is clear I am waiting for her. “Sunbeam. It’s been a long time.” “Yes.” I glare at her, making no effort to hide the resentment in my voice. “It has.” If my obvious anger concerns her, she gives no sign of it. Not that I could read a tree’s body language, but her tone seems light enough. As if this was just a casual meeting, rather than a reunion after eight centuries. “Too long. You could have visited, you know. My current form makes it rather difficult to come to you.” My teeth clench at her light-hearted refusal to acknowledge the obvious. “I never visited because you never invited me. You never even told me you were still alive.” Once more she refuses to engage me. “How alive I am is something I imagine the scholar could spend many years debating.” “You’re alive enough,” I snap back. “We’re having a conversation, aren’t we?” “That much is true.” The tree’s crystalline leaves shift in a nonexistent breeze. “And should you wish to speak to me, I am sure you were more than capable of coming here without my invitation. It is not as if I asked you here today. How long have you known?” “Midnight told me,” I answer simply. “You’ve known where to find me for eight centuries, then,” Celestia answers calmly. “And yet it took all this time for us to see one another again.” “I should never have heard it secondhand from Midnight,” I snap back. “I deserved to hear it directly from you. So why didn’t I?” The tree’s leaves rustle to produce a sound almost like a sigh. “Because you would have tried to stop me. As I aged and grew older, you made your feelings on the matter quite clear. You would never have sat back passively and allowed me to do as I thought best.” “I thought you were dying!” I snarl. “The whole reason I was acting that way was to keep you alive! I never wanted to lose you!” Celestia is silent before some time, and her voice is softer and more subdued when she finally responds. “I am sorry for that. It seems that both then and now, there are times when we cannot truly understand one another.” I sigh and run a hoof down my face, trying to suppress the annoyed growl bubbling up my throat. “You always have had a singular talent for vexing me. Fine, enough ancient history. I suppose you already know why I’m here?” “I think you’re here for more than one reason,” Celestia answers. “Though I suspect that what finally drove you to move past your anger is the Elements.” “You’re right.” I grimace and admit something I’d rather not. “They aren’t coming together, and I can’t fix this on my own. I need your help.” The tree is silent for some time before finally answering me. “I think the problem stems from the fact that you tried to force them to come together instead of trusting destiny to bring them together in their own time.” “So I should sit back, do nothing, and pray some ephemeral guiding force directs things properly?” I scoff and shake my head. “I recall how well that ended with your plans regarding Lance Charger. Talking about destiny is just an excuse for passively ignoring what you know you have to do and hoping it all somehow works out in your favor.” I scowl and begin pacing. “Perhaps I made mistakes. Perhaps I acted too soon, or perhaps not soon enough. Losing Aedile Pie and needing to rely upon one of my secondary choices for Laughter might have disrupted everything.” Celestia’s branches dip. “Her spirit burned brighter than most, and it pained me to see it so cruelly snuffed out.” “The Nightmare outmaneuvered me,” I confess. “Perhaps fatally. Or maybe that’s just an excuse, and the team would have failed even if they had her.” “They have not failed yet,” Celestia assures me. “Nightmare Moon can still be stopped. Just because the team has not come together yet does not mean they will fail when the time comes. You still have several weeks before her return.” “You’re right,” I allow. “They could work.” The emphasis I place on the word make my thoughts on the matter clear enough. Celestia’s voice becomes a touch firmer. “They are still your best option to both contain Luna and purge her of her madness.” “And one I fully intend to use,” I remind her. “But I hardly think I can rely solely upon them, given the problems with my chosen team of wielders.” A hint of wryness enters her voice. “I do not think you would, even if the team had no flaws, perfect chemistry, and a proven record of success with the Elements.” “Would you?” I ask simply. “No,” she concedes. “I have every faith that the Elements will be used successfully, but the price for failure is too high to ignore the possibility that something could go awry. I am sure you are familiar with the old expression about the best laid plans of mice and mares.” “And there you have it.” I sigh and take a seat next to the tree. “As ruler of Equestria, I must consider every possibility. You know she might force my hoof.” The tree darkens slightly, and anger tinges Celestia’s voice. “You promised you wouldn’t take it that far unless you had to.” I rise to my hooves, glaring at her. “Do you think I’m breaking that promise?!” I jab at her, my hoof thudding against her crystalline trunk. “You left me to clean up your damned mess with your sister! You know I don’t want anything to do with her—the damnable bitch tried to murder my daughter! And yet, I’m still giving her a chance, purely for your sake, and you have the unmitigated gall to question my honesty in doing so?!” Celestia says nothing, weathering the story. Once I finish, a long, awkward silence hangs in the air between us. When she finally responds, it takes me by surprise. “I’m sorry. I know I have asked a great deal of you, and shall ask for more ere this is done. Luna is ... a difficult issue. Can you blame me for not wanting to fight my sister? She’s my flesh and blood. I love her. Nothing she will do can ever change that.” In a sudden moment of clarity, I realize the truth. “You’re afraid to face her.” “Yes,” Celestia admits. “How could I not be? As always, your logic is as undeniable as it is distasteful. I know that the Elements may fail, and that if they do ... Nightmare Moon must still be stopped. I have not forgotten what she did during the civil war, and that was a mere puppet to her will. Luna herself...” Another rustle passes through her leaves. “I do not know which outcome would horrify me more. That I might hesitate to act against her and allow my subjects to die, or that I would act swiftly and decisively, and not hesitate to cut down my own sister.” “Which is why you placed all your hopes on the Elements of Harmony,” I concluded. “Not just them.” One of her limbs slowly creaked down to rest on my shoulder. “I have trusted you with Equestria, and the fate of my sister. The two most precious things in the world to me.” Her response leaves me at a loss for words. I suppose some part of me has always believed she thought of me as a flawed, broken thing. There was no denying that in my mortal life, my mind had been twisted by things that medical science would not even begin to understand for many centuries, and I often felt she only tolerated my presence because of my brilliance and unique perspective. It ... it has weighed upon me to know that she viewed me in such a way, despite my many years of loyal service. I enjoy a few moments of contentment before the ugly truth rears its head once more. “If you trusted me, then why make the Circle?” Celestia’s branches rustle. “The Circle was intended to help prevent something like the Lunar Rebellion from ever happening again. I became far too content in Canterlot, living comfortably in my palace surrounded by courtiers who told me what I wished to hear. It was vital to make sure that you didn’t stray too far from the righteous path.” I scowl up at her. “So you thought I would go mad with power and turn into some sort of ridiculous tyrant if I wasn’t constantly supervised? That you needed agents seeded throughout my government who could remove me from power at a moment’s notice? Why make Cadance an alicorn at all? Are you already grooming her as my replacement?” “No,” Celestia answers firmly. “Cadance’s ascension represents her fulfilling her own destiny, and is not an attack upon you. It was never my intention for the Circle to be your enemy. I wanted to make sure that you would always have good council. I know how hard that can be to find sometimes. That is why you were among my closest advisors during my reign: even when we disagreed and I overruled you, my own thoughts were that much sharper for being challenged. When you took the throne, you valued my own advice just as much. However, I knew I would not always be there. Someone would need to speak with my voice after I could no longer do so.” That ... did explain quite a few things. A hint of wry amusement enters her voice. “They do come to me now and again for my advice and wisdom. Or at least, Cadance and Rainbow do. I will admit that some elements of the Circle have their own opinions.” “I’ve noticed,” I shoot back dryly. “Which is one of the reasons I would prefer to hear everything directly from you. The Circle does seem rather redundant.” Celestia chuckles softly. “Merging my essence with a magical tree was a mad enough idea that I felt it wise to cultivate a backup plan. Not to mention I do still need agents to go out into the world—one of the disadvantages of my new form.” “There were better options available than becoming a tree,” I grouse. “I believe I offered you several of them.” “You did,” Celestia allowed. “I think that, despite the obvious drawbacks, I made the right choice.” “You may believe that if you wish.” Considering the eight hundred year estrangement her decisions had spawned, I have a rather low opinion of her decision-making capabilities in this matter. However, tempting as it would be to restart an old argument, there seems little point in it when the matter is a moot one. Especially since I have more pressing matters on my mind. “How much will you hate me should the worst come to pass?” Celestia says nothing for a long time, doubtless trying to decide on the most diplomatic way to answer my question. Her answer confirms it. “No more than I would hate myself.” I scoff and shake my head. “That is not an answer.” A soft sigh whispers through her leaves. “Sunbeam, she is my sister. The only family I have left. No matter what crimes she commits, she will always be my sister. Can you blame me for wanting to save her?” “No.” I draw myself up to my full height and do my best to find some equivalent to her eyes. “But how many of my children need to die to save your sister?” Her long silence makes the truth plain enough. Regardless of her love for her sister, she cannot in good conscience allow others to die so that the Nightmare may live. “If the Elements work as intended, you should be able to stop Luna without needing to ask that question.” “Thus explaining the considerable effort I have gone to in securing them and trying to forge a team that can properly wield them.” A team whose very failure has prompted me to come here. I know what I must say, but it certainly rankles my pride to speak the words aloud. “If you have any advice for how to bring them together...” “I would be happy to help,” Celestia assures me. “However, friendship is not something you can force to happen on your own timescale. It needs to grow organically.” “Yes yes, a very charming sentiment,” I grouse, waving a dismissive hoof. “But the safety of the Empire, countless innocent lives, and the fate of your sister all depend on them becoming friends within the next few weeks.” “I’m aware, Sunbeam,” Celestia responds testily. “And you are not wrong. We might have little choice but to resort to extreme measures. Sometimes shared adversity can create the strongest of bonds, when the right elements come together.” “So throw them all into danger and hope they bond over it?” I scoff and shake my head. “And to think, ponies said that I was the amoral and manipulative one.” “I wasn’t suggesting you hurl them into mortal peril and hope for the best,” Celestia answers mildly. “Simply that even if destiny should be guiding them towards using the elements, sometimes destiny needs a little poke in the right direction.” I scoff and roll my eyes. “Destiny. Must we have this discussion again?” “Much as I enjoyed our many debates on the topic, I think it's clear we won’t change each other’s minds at this point.” Celestia made a sound that was oddly like clearing her throat—something quite strange to hear considering she had no throat. “However, philosophical debates aside, you can’t deny that something needs to be done. Considering how close we are to Nightmare Moon’s return, I am sure we both agree that we cannot afford to take a slower, more gradual approach to preparing them. I would think you of all ponies would be at ease with taking a more proactive stance towards binding them together.” I rise to my hooves yet again, slowly pacing back and forth. She was quite right, of course. However, it was quite a bit harder to find a way to do it that sounded acceptable. “I can’t say I’m wild about the idea either,” Celestia assures me. “As you said, it is more than a little manipulative, and there are many ways it could end badly. However, as I am sure you would have counseled me, there are lives on the line. Manipulating and deceiving a half dozen mares to save the entire world and my own sister is unpleasant, but it is a relatively small price to pay all things considered.” I grimaced and nodded, though a small part of me could not help but be amused by how our arguments had been almost juxtaposed. Perhaps it was simply a matter of our perspectives and desires; Twilight and Sunset were my descendants and students, while Nightmare Moon was an enemy I would gladly cut down if not for her sister. To Celestia, my descendants were naught but distant figures she only loosely knew measured against her own flesh and blood. Or perhaps I was merely using my sudden attack of conscience as a convenient excuse to do what so many of the less enlightened members of the Circle accused me of—wanting to give up on the Elements and cut down a mare I had every reason to want dead. No. I would not end her. I would not give the damnable fools in the Circle the satisfaction of it. I would not let them murmur about my supposed bloodlust, and how Celestia had been a fool to ever trust me. I would not fail Celestia herself, not in this task. Wouldn’t it be such a lovely little coup to show them all that I was a far better mare than any of them gave me credit for? And more importantly... I gently lay a hoof on Celestia’s trunk. “I have more than half a mind to uproot you, drag you back to Canterlot, and make you deal with this mess yourself.” Celestia chuckled, one of her limbs bending down to rest on my shoulder. “That is certainly one way to do it, though I would recommend against it. I’m sure you know how many leylines this tree is rooted to, and where they all lead.” I was well aware of exactly how impractical the idea was, and had not seriously been considering it. “Then maybe I should move my court here and find some way to make a throne room that can fit a tree.” I smirk at her. “Or, given the exact nature of what you are now, I could always turn you into a new throne for myself.” Celestia sighs patiently. “Sunbeam...” “It would keep you very close at hoof for whenever I want your advice,” I point out. “Is that the way of it, then?” Celestia asks. “Underneath all the anger and annoyance, what you really want is to have me by your side once more? I would think it much simpler to just say that, rather than empty bluster and threats we both know you would never carry out.” I am tempted to snap at her once more, but she is right. Denying that would only make me weak and foolish. “I miss you. I have for many years. Even arguing with you.” “I have often found myself missing you as well,” Celestia concedes. “It is, perhaps, one of the occasional issues with the Circle. Most of them regard me with such reverence that they would never dare to argue with me, especially not as passionately as you did.” “So why hide yourself away?” I demand. “For many reasons,” Celestia answers cryptically. “No small part because I was tired.” I scowl at her, surprised by the emptiness of her response. “You spent eight hundred years hiding from me because you were tired?!” Celestia’s tone remains even and patient, though I know her well enough to catch the barest hint of irritation in her tone. “I didn’t hide from you, and you know it. With the benefit of hindsight I should have been more assertive in contacting you, but I had little reason to think you wanted to see me. The last years of my mortal life were often ... contentious. At the time, it seemed best to allow a few years for tempers to cool, and for you to fully come into your own as a ruler.” I grimace, but can’t entirely fault her reasoning. Despite the many years she spent as my nominal servant and advisor, there were many within my court who still looked upon her as their true queen. For the first few years of my reign I had barely been able to even hold court when she wasn’t present, while she frequently had to inform me of royal matters given over to her that should have come directly to me. The stress of that seeming refusal to acknowledge the changes, combined with the fact that I had never wanted to take her throne to begin with, had led to many arguments. “I expect that so long as you remained alive and in Canterlot, I never would have ceased haranguing you to take the throne at my side, as all the world seemed to want.” “You can be remarkably stubborn when you set your mind to it,” Celestia agrees. “It is not simply a matter of stubbornness,” I counter. “It is simply trying to obtain my goals. You know I wanted to rule at your side, not replace you.” “We don’t always get what we want, my little pony.” Celestia chuckles bitterly. “I am sure you recall many of our arguments from before you ascension. More than once, you said it did not seem as if I even wished to rule, and that I should give over the crown if I had no desire to wear it. I would have thought you would be glad I took your advice. I have had a great deal of time to reflect upon that, and ... you were right. It is very hard for a good mare to be queen.” She sighs. “The Lunar Rebellion shook me, you know that. So much senseless death from a few simple mistakes...” “Yes, you did err. That is precisely why you needed a co-ruler.” I grimace, and admit a truth I usually prefer to ignore. “And ... I suspect it is why I need one too. I am not so proud that I am entirely blind to my flaws. Not to mention that we were both at our strongest when working together. You challenged me to justify my beliefs and explain my reasoning, and I did the same for you. In the end, both our decisions were stronger for it.” My eyes narrow. “You had best hope I never find a way to yank you out of that tree and shove you back into your body. I think if I do, I will simply demand that you share the throne with me instead of politely asking.” “I am surprised you haven’t tried yet.” Despite having no face, I can hear the grin in her words. “I’m figuring out the details,” I counter testily. “I wouldn’t want to destroy the Tree in the process of removing you. But considering we’re both immortal, I have plenty of time to work out all the kinks in my plan.” “That you do,” Celestia concedes. “Though I will say I am quite happy with my current state of being, and would prefer that you not disturb it. Despite what you might think of the Circle and what its goals are, I am quite content to let you play your part while I play mine.” Normally I would be very happy to hear Celestia admit that I was right and she was wrong, but long experience taught me to beware whenever I thought myself triumphant over her. Celestia did not win arguments with long careful lines of logic or passionate please, but by changing the very nature of the discussion. It was such a well-laid trap that had resulted in me taking up the crown, after all. I always try to avoid making the same mistake twice. “Elaborate.” “I never wanted to rule over ponykind,” Celestia clarified. “What I wanted was to guide them to harmony and enlightenment, and to protect them from the dangers of the world. The crown was merely a tool to allow me to achieve that. You of all ponies should understand that, given the level of insight we both hold. Ponykind has unlimited capacity for greatness, and they wish to achieve it—all they need is a light to show them the way.” I stare at her for several seconds, as the truth slowly sinks in. I want to be angry at her, but I find that I can’t help but me amazed by the sheer audacity of it. “Oh you clever nag! Celestia the queen will always be a fallible and imperfect ruler, but Celestia the martyr with her message of love and harmony...” I chuckle and shake my head. “You die while I become the ruler of most of the known world, and yet somehow you still managed to come out on top.” “I do have my moments,” she agrees with a touch of false modesty. I sigh and shake my head. “Why do I think we would both have been much happier if we had this conversation eight hundred years sooner?” “Likely because we both would be,” Celestia concedes. “You could have come to me sooner.” “You never invited me,” I point out once more. Celestia sighs. “Sunbeam, we haven’t seen each other in eight hundred years. Do we really want to argue about this right now?” I chuckle softly and answer with a wry grin. “Well, we do have eight hundred years of missed argument to make up for.” “I suppose we do,” Celestia agrees, glowing brightly as the tree shakes. I suspect she might be laughing, though there’s no sound to confirm it. “Still, I would prefer to discuss other matters before we start debating philosophy, ethics, and the political changes you’ve made to Equestria in my absence.” “We do have quite a bit of catching up to do,” I agree. I lie down amongst her roots, resting my back and head against the trunk. “Where shall we start?” “How about with Midnight?” Celestia suggests. I cannot help wistfully sighing at the mention of my daughter’s name. “Ah, my child. I miss her more than even you or Shadow.” For a moment I wonder if she might suspect something of what passed between me and my child, and decide it might be best to distract her. “And considering I’ve spent nearly nine hundred years as a celibate because you and Shadow were the only remotely acceptable partners I could have taken...” To my mild irritation, Celestia ignores the remark entirely. “She was your daughter. It’s only natural that you would love her dearly.” I answer with a flat look. “You were always frustratingly difficult to fluster.” Once more, an amused note enters her voice. “Weren’t you just saying you enjoyed being challenged? I was just trying to be accomodating.” “Yes, I am sure that was the truth of it,” I counter dryly. “But you are not wrong. Now then, tell me a story of my daughter—one I don’t know.” “Oh dear, one you don't know?” The tree lights up, and I have the distinct impression that she is thinking it over. “Hmm, well there was the one time the two of us snuck off for cake when she was only a filly...”