//------------------------------// // 14 // Story: When Heavens Divide // by Mediocre Morsov //------------------------------// 14 Twilight looked at the Map. It was almost dead in its silence. Something of its luster had been lost, though she couldn’t decipher why. Her instincts told her a friendship problem was brewing, but the Map wasn’t telling her anything. Walking around Ponyville she had seen looks of resentment pass between ponies who, just days earlier, were close friends. Lyra and Bon-Bon, Vinyl Scratch and Octavia, Lotus Blossom and Aloe… At least her friends were becoming friendly again. Laughter returned to their hanging out. Things were joyous once more, but… Twilight felt an undercurrent. Laughter seemed a little forced between them, as if they were all trying to get over something. Whenever they overheard two ponies get into an argument, even if it wasn’t about politics, her friends would still shoot each other brief, venomous glares when they thought no pony was watching. She still remembered one argument from Thursday evening when she was strolling with Rarity and Pinkie Pie… “Your music is far too loud!” Octavia had snapped at her roommate, pulling the headphones from her head in a surprising display of anger, “If you can even call this music!” “Well, I don’t need to take criticism from some uncreative hack who just replays the same music from centuries ago!” Vinyl shot back, “Write something original before you criticize a real artist!” The shouting match continued as they passed, and Twilight felt her wings tense up. Looking back, why hadn’t she intervened? “Some ponies, right?” Pinkie Pie had snorted, trying to defuse the tension they had all felt. “Indeed,” Rarity agreed, “Then again, Vinyl Scratch never did have a respect for the true musical arts.” Twilight felt her feathers ruffle. Rarity had taken the side of Octavia, who coincidentally was a supporter of the ‘established’ system. News had drifted from Canterlot by that point that the city-states were in a tizzy over uniting Equestria as either an empire or a republic, and apparently two mares at a spa had sparked a riot over which system was preferable. Octavia and the others who supported following the monarchy were coming to be called imperialists, imperials, imps, and even tyrants; Vinyl Scratch fell into the other category, the republicans, democrats, liberals, or progressives. None of those titles were derogatory like ‘tyrant’, but they were slung around as slurs by the imperials. “Vinyl Scratch’s work is just as much art as the silly old fuddy-duddy music Octavia plays,” Pinkie Pie said, trying to hold back her temper for Twilight’s sake. “Of course you’d think so,” Rarity mumbled. Twilight had tensed and even Rarity grimaced as she said it, but Pinkie had thankfully chosen to ignore the comment. The rest of the evening had been silent and charged, and the two friends left the Princess with something like remorse, but at least there had been no exploding tempers like earlier. Now it was Friday once more and Twilight couldn’t help but remember the previous week when things had become so strained. She had hoped those days were behind her. “Hey Twi!” Applejack’s voice broke her troubled thoughts. Looking out her window, Twilight was pleased to see her five friends waiting outside with their pets, “Are you coming, or what?” “Of course!” the Princess beamed, “I don’t think Owlowiscious would forgive me if I missed our playdate!” Pushing the foreboding to the back of her mind, Twilight gestured for her owl to follow her. They would enjoy the day out, and then she’d make a plan to deal with the problems besieging her subjects. There was nothing to worry about. … Spike parried the oncoming blade, struggling to stay to Scootaloo’s right. He had always been pretty docile, slow to action, and just generally slow; the pegasus filly was a spitfire, rearing to take him down. Anytime he maneuvered to her weak side, she’d use the trick Night Bane had taught her to flip the blade around in her mouth. Where once he was on the side with the pommel, now he was on the side with the blade. Scootaloo didn’t make much use of defense, her constant strikes and speedy maneuvers leaving little enough opening for the drake. At one point, Spike had considered simply outlasting her, trusting to his defenses then striking when she was tired, but… …Scootaloo just couldn’t run out of steam. “Enough!” Night Bane barked. Although it had only been a day, the two youths had learned to instantly obey instructions, no matter how hard the adrenaline was pumping. They began panting, looking towards their instructor. “Our time today is up; you two should get ready for your regular classes.” “How did we do?” Scootaloo asked between gasps for breath, expertly sheathing her wooden sword. “You’ve both improved in blade-work since yesterday, which is impressive considering both your age and the short amount of time,” Night Bane said, but obviously there was some criticism coming, “but you both lack dimension. Spike, you need to be more aggressive. You need to take advantage of the openings she gives you. If speed is the problem, try disrupting her attacks. And Scootaloo, you can’t rely entirely on attacking – you’ll burn yourself out against an opponent, and you’ll be too exhausted to counter any attacks against you.” “Yes Sir,” they bowed their heads slightly in unison. “I expect to see some improvement by tomorrow,” Night Bane cautioned, then smiled, “For then we shall begin the spear.” “So soon?” Spike asked, “It’s only the third day…” “You two can handle it,” Night Bane chuckled, “Besides, you’ll be working with those two weapons every day for the entire semester; even the Royal Guard don’t get sixteen weeks of training. But that’s enough training for today; you’re dismissed, squires.” Again the two youths bowed their heads before unbuckling their sword belts and putting them up with the other training equipment. During the day, the courtyard was often used by many ponies, so it was more practical to train in the same building as the Royal Guard. Exhausted, the pair met up with their fellow students in the cafeteria, Big Mac and the twins leaving to get their training in with Night Bane before their classes started and leaving the youths alone with Trixie and Starlight. “You two look exhausted!” Starlight gaped. “Scootaloo’s pretty intense,” Spike grumbled, gratefully taking some offered gems and wolfing them down, “You must be a pretty good dancer.” “Dancer?” the pegasus almost choked on her sandwich, “Why would you think that? Apple Bloom is the ballerina.” “I’ve noticed that fighting is a lot like dancing,” Spike shrugged, “I figure if you can learn one, you can learn the other.” “Hear that?” Scootaloo smirked at her friends, “You two should try it; get a chance to dance with-” “Scootaloo…” Apple Bloom warned. “It was one dance!” Sweetie Belle frowned, “I’m beginning to think you’re teasing us to cover up your emotions.” “What?!” Scootaloo reeled back as if struck. Spike just furrowed his brow, wondering what they were talking about. “Come to think of it, you give us both a lot of grief over…” Apple Bloom’s eyes drifted to Spike then back to the pegasus, “…that guy. The fact you’re not dropping it, well, it seems like maybe you’re the one with the crush.” “I have a crush on R- I don’t have a crush on anybody!” Scootaloo scowled. “Really?” Sweetie said. Scootaloo waited for some jocular remark, but the unicorn filly seemed to be deep in thought for a moment, a blush creeping across her face. “So… if I were to ask Rumble out on a date when we get back, you wouldn’t care?” Apple Bloom and Scootaloo widened their eyes at Sweetie Belle and even Spike could sense the sudden tension. Starlight stood up, sensing it too. “Let’s go watch the guys spar,” she suggested, nudging Trixie. “Oh, but this is about to get juicy…” Trixie purred, yelping when Starlight tugged on her mane, “Alright! Fine. I suppose watching stallions hitting each other with sticks is entertaining enough.” “Come on, Spike,” Starlight said, “You can explain what’s going on.” “Uh… sure,” the dragon knitted his brow as he left. Were they talking about Rumble? How in Equestria did all three of them have a crush on Rumble? Whatever, he had classes to attend. “Are you serious?” Scootaloo asked once they were relatively alone. Only Royal Guards were around, but they ignored the fillies. Soldiers might be gossips, but school-filly crushes weren’t really an issue they debated. “Why didn’t you ever mention it before?” Apple Bloom asked. “Scootaloo has a crush on Rumble, and hers was so much more obvious,” Sweetie sighed, “plus, they’re both pegasi and obsessed with the Wonderbolts. I don’t share a lot of interests with him.” “I don’t share any interests with Spike,” Apple Bloom sighed, “Frankly, he’d be a better fit with you, Sweetie.” “But I’m not interested,” the unicorn sighed, “Look, I’m sorry Scootaloo, but y’know how crushes are.” “It’s fine,” the pegasus sighed. Oh man, how was she supposed to compete with Sweetie Belle? Rumble was a good friend, but he still treated his fellow Wonderbolt fan as one of the guys; Scootaloo had no doubt he’d feel awkward if she made an advance. “Can we talk about something else?” “Sure,” Apple Bloom nodded, “We’ve got a quiz today, remember. Y’all have studied, right?” The fillies began trying to focus on the coming test, reviewing their notes and pushing their romantic drama to the back of their heads. … “So, what have you got planned for this Guy’s Night?” Starlight asked as they strolled to the practice yard, “Another quest to rescue Princess Shmarity from the Squizard?” “Oh please…” Trixie muttered quietly. “Come on, Glim-Glam,” Spike snorted, “you know I haven’t used Princess Shmarity for, like, six campaigns now.” “It’s hard to believe you really wrote her out,” Starlight smirked, “’Glim-Glam’?” “I’m trying out nicknames,” Spike chuckled, “I guess I could just call you Star.” “Trixie likes Glim-Glam,” the magician chuckled, “Spike and Glim-glam off to watch Mac and Flim-Flam. It has a nice ring to it.” “I suppose me saying I prefer ‘Star’ isn’t going to make a difference?” Starlight asked, still smiling. “I think it’s been decided,” Spike and Trixie shared the smirk, “Ah, here it is.” “You two can’t fight at all!” Night Bane exclaimed, “I might as well let you both fight him. Flim and Flam glared at the Night Guard, covered in bruises and scratches while Big Mac looked entirely unscathed, but wore a guilty expression. Night Bane gestured for them to take stances, two-on-one. Maybe there’d be a fair fight. At his signal, they began, and unsurprisingly the twins displayed their usual mistakes, but… Night Bane’s eyes widened as he realized as soon as Flim messed up, his brother covered for him, and vice versa. While they were barely competent alone, together they were equal to Big Macintosh. Soon, Big Mac struggled to keep up with their magical thrusts and parries. They flanked him, striking in unison without ever seeing the other. How could they function with one mind like that? Still, they were not fighters. Big Mac wasn’t either, but he had the physicality for it. Even together, Flim and Flam couldn’t best the farmer’s raw strength and steady maneuvers. He battered their swords aside, striking them in their ribs and necks with as much self-control as he could muster. Still the twins collapsed, winded but uninjured. “Well,” Night Bane noted, “that was certainly an improvement. Oh look, an audience. You three might want to step up your game; mares are watching.” “Unless one of them is a blonde wearing a brown hat,” Flim picked himself up, remembering who had just beaten him up, “Uh… let’s just forget where I was going with that.” “You sure like my sister, huh?” Big Mac asked, relenting a little. Something about beating a guy up and getting to know him through combat helped change one’s opinion of them. Flim wasn’t too bad, and at least he was trying to improve himself to impress Applejack rather than move onto their farm like Trenderhoof had. “My brother and I don’t usually jump through so many hoops for just any pony,” Flam said, helping his brother up, “Now, let us try to impress the mares present.” “Maybe they’ll pass it along to the Princesses for you two,” Flim suggested with a chortle, drawing blushes out of his brother and Big Mac. On the sidelines, Spike explained what was happening to the two mares. “See how Big Mac deflected that shot?” he pointed out, “That’s a parry. Also, notice how Flim and Flam are working to get to either side of Big Mac. We call that a flanking maneuver.” “I know what a flank is, Spike,” Starlight chuckled. “Nice double entendre,” Trixie smirked. Flim and Flam finally succeeded in scoring a point on Big Mac, which judging by their numerous bruises was the first time that afternoon. Spike continued to explain what was happening the entire time they dueled, but soon even Trixie understood the rules and the terms used. Before long the duels ended and it was time to get ready for Celestia’s class. Spike and Trixie said their goodbyes to Starlight for now, promising to hang out later. Starlight found herself going into her usual studious state, excitedly and eagerly listening to her mentor. Celestia was still in a mood over current affairs, it seemed, but stopped in the middle of her lecture when she noticed how bruised the twins were. “Flam?” she asked, looking hurt herself, “Oh, and Flim, too. Goodness, what happened to you?” “Chivalry practice, Princess,” Flam stretched, trying to play it off as nothing, “Night Bane forces us to run through some hoops, but our skills are quite advanced.” “Indeed, quite advanced!” Flim agreed. “Ha!” Starlight couldn’t help it. She smiled sheepishly as they glared at her. “My sister is a brute, sometimes,” Celestia tsked, using her magic to straighten out Flam’s clothing and comb his hair. Almost as an afterthought, she did the same to Flim. “I was expecting her to lecture you on the finer points of the chivalrous code and respect for the nobility; I should have known she’d only focus on combat!” “She talks about the nobility, too,” Flim interjected, “Why, just the other day she explained… uh… well, I can’t quite recall what she was saying.” “There was definitely nobility involved, though!” Flam nodded agreement. “Why did you even sign up for that silly course?” Celestia demanded. Both brothers looked at each other, confused, then back at the Princess. “You recommended it,” they said in unison. “Oh, yes…” Celestia muttered, “Let’s return to our friendship lessons. We have a quiz today.” “Alright girls,” Apple Bloom smiled at her closest friends, “it’s a good thing we studied!” Celestia tried to enjoy handing out the tests. She usually liked all things scholarly, but now Flam was covered in welts and Luna was trying to democratize Equestria. Even seeing her students putting themselves to the challenge lacked its usual appeal. Why, sister? … Apple Bloom awoke the next day feeling refreshed. It took until she was brushing her teeth to realize she had just completed her first week of classes. It had certainly felt longer than a week, but that meant she only had fifteen more to go until the semester was over. How long had Twilight been in school? Presumably around ten or maybe a little younger, then up until she moved to Ponyville… Apple Bloom spit the mouthful of minty saliva in her mouth. That was something like a decade, at least! “Will I be in school that long?” she wondered aloud as she cleaned up her sink. Showering, Apple Bloom chose to spend the hour before breakfast reviewing her notes from the Ancient Lore class the night before. Luna had started with stuff they’d already known, the popular legend of the Windigos. Looking back at Celestia’s notes, Apple Bloom reviewed the most recent musings on the Compendium of Compassion. No wonder Twilight liked Starswirl so much; the guy was a genius. Apple Bloom only regretted she couldn’t use active magic like unicorns. “Enough studying,” she smiled to herself, “It’s Sated Day, and Princess Celestia always stresses enjoying the weekend with friends.” The farm filly pondered briefly why the Princesses had such an emphasis on friendship when they themselves had almost no friends nor time to hang out with them. She reckoned it had to do with some kind of self-sacrifice on their part. It was very noble. Would elected leaders have to make that kind of sacrifice? Would having personal friendships be a problem for leaders? “No, no thinking about class,” Apple Bloom shook her head as she ventured to the cafeteria where the others were gathering. The pancake breakfasts by Celestia were long gone, sadly, both Princesses too busy in their particular attempts to unite Equestria. Apple Bloom hadn’t really expected them to be a daily thing, anyway. Sure, they were the personal guests of the Princesses, but that honor didn’t mean they got daily breakfasts like that… “Wow, you’re actually later than usual,” Sweetie Belle said as Apple Bloom approached their table, “Don’t tell me you actually slept in.” “Of course not,” Apple Bloom snorted, “I took the time to study.” “Careful, Starlight,” Trixie joked, “looks like there’s a new mini-Twilight.” “Har-har,” the other mare snorted, but her humor was muted. “What’s wrong, Glim-Glam?” Spike asked, wincing as she shot him a glare for using that name. “Celestia’s teachings have gotten more… abrasive,” she sighed, “and Luna has started to ignore my suggestions entirely.” “Are you talking about that debate you two had last night about government control of industry?” Apple Bloom asked, “I thought it was a pretty fair balance, myself.” The decision they had come to – or rather, the decision Luna had come to – was to have a largely unregulated, free market industry, but that the government could seize control of the markets in times of emergency. To Apple Bloom, it sounded good, though she didn’t understand economics near as much as she’d like. “It’s pretty much the same as the current system,” Starlight grimaced, “Really, it’s just begging for trouble. I mean, ponies like Filthy Rich have carte blanche to run their businesses however they want, building monopolies, and destabilizing entire areas for their personal benefit.” “Wouldn’t that lead to an emergency?” Spike pointed out, “Couldn’t the government intervene then?” “I suppose, but the business-ponies could make the argument the government is infringing on their rights,” Starlight sighed, “We’re planning on uniting Equestria as a single nation. If we let independent companies run the markets competitively, they’ll seize every resource they can and try to crush the competition. Before you know it, all of Equestria’s resources will be controlled by a handful of ponies and not the government – a government run by the regular ponies, mind you.” “And dragons,” Spike added, a little annoyed, “and all the other non-ponies.” “Sorry, Spike,” Starlight smiled, weakly, “force of habit.” “No offense, Starlight,” Apple Bloom said, “but I think you’re exaggerating. Democratic thought is built on the principle that every pony – and non-pony – has an equal say in government, and equal opportunities elsewhere. If Equestria was a republic, the ponies would expect freedom. Why in the world would they want the government to control everything? And if they don’t want the government to run things, why would they want a small group of rich ponies running everything? It doesn’t make sense.” “Well, I’d like to point out that if the government is run by the ponies and non-ponies equally,” Starlight chuckled, “then a government-run market and industry would be run by the citizens.” The unicorn’s smile faded. “I might be overreacting, but that argument isn’t really what bugged me; it’s the fact Luna is shutting me out most of the time.” “She listens to you,” Apple Bloom said, “She listens to all of us.” “Listening and taking our suggestions are two different things,” Starlight noted, dryly. “She only ever adjusts the parts about ponies and non-ponies when I stress it,” Spike said, “and even then, it’s as an afterthought.” “She listens to me,” Apple Bloom frowned. “That’s because everything you suggest is something she’s already open to,” Starlight sighed, “She doesn’t want to listen to new ideas.” “Have you ever thought that your ideas just don’t work?” the filly shot back, a little upset by Starlight’s words. The pink unicorn’s ears folded back and she looked genuinely hurt. “Apple Bloom…” Big Mac warned. “No, she’s right,” Starlight sighed, “I’m just disappointed in the class. I thought… I thought I’d learn how to better present my ideas, and that I’d be encouraged to push the limits on them by Luna. Instead, she just ignores me.” “To be fair, she’s busy with the constitution,” Apple Bloom said, something of an apologetic tone entering her voice, “I’m sure she’ll focus on being your mentor again as soon as Nightmare Night’s over.” “Nightmare Night?” Scootaloo asked. “The end of the month,” Starlight explained, “Luna has until then to submit her constitution.” “That’s quite the coincidence,” Sweetie giggled, “Luna has a project due by Nightmare Night. It’s kind of her holiday, isn’t it?” “Yeah, I guess that’s a little weird,” Starlight noted, “Of course, she could always submit it early. We haven’t been doing much to it at this point except proofreading. Like I said, she’s not taking any suggestions for changes.” “I think it looks pretty solid, myself,” Apple Bloom said, confidently, “Besides, it’s just a rough draft to give to Celestia; then they can work on a better version.” “Provided Celestia even accepts it,” Starlight muttered, “Be honest with me, guys; am I the only one that will care if they turn Equestria into an empire instead of a democracy?” “From how Celestia described it, it won’t be that different from how things are now,” Scootaloo said. “To be honest, I’d kind of prefer it,” Sweetie shrunk back at the startled looks from Spike, Apple Bloom, and Starlight, “I-I mean, I’ve never lived in a city-state where I had to know about policies and vote on stuff. It sounds like a lot of work, and what if every pony makes the wrong choice? Then there’s all the debates, and inevitably there will be a losing side and a winning side… it just sounds really divisive.” “Yeesh, you guys and your big words…” Scootaloo rubbed her temples, “I’m not afraid of change, but I’m pretty indifferent to all of this. Empire, republic… as long as things don’t become unjust, then I’m fine with either.” “What if they do become unjust?” Starlight asked. “Then Rainbow Dash and the other Elements of Harmony will come in and stop it,” the pegasus filly snorted, “duh.” “We shouldn’t be too reliant on the Elements,” Starlight warned. “You should relax, Glim-Glam,” Big Mac said, slowly. Starlight groaned; not him, too! “I’m sure Luna knows what she’s doing. Uh, and Princess Celestia, too.” “These are immortal Alicorn Princesses, after all,” Flim pointed out. “Over a thousand years of wisdom resides in each of them,” Flam nodded, agreement, “We should trust them.” Starlight nodded, too, but it didn’t seem right in her head. How could you trust, or even relate to, beings who had ruled over commoners for a thousand years. An alicorn was almost another species, their power and immortality making it impossible for them to fully relate to regular ponies. There was nothing for it, of course. Starlight realized the only conclusion with resignation. As long as alicorns existed, they’d run Equestria. … “I’m surprised you two decided to show up,” Starlight noted, looking at her fellow students as they set up a game of Ogres and Oubliettes. Flim and Flam were there, sure as rain, which made the others cautious. “I didn’t think this was your sort of thing…” “It’s not,” Flim stated, flatly. “What my brother means to say,” Flam smoothed out Flim’s words, “is that we don’t have many friends in Canterlot outside of your little soiree, and we’ve also been given over to trying new things.” “Princess Celestia was busy?” Trixie asked in a deadpan. “Why are you here?” Flim decided to ask instead of answer, “I was under the impression you didn’t like these sorts of things.” “The Great and Powerful Trixie,” the magician said with a flare, “…wanted to try her hand at being the Oubliette-master. She has a wonderful skill with oratory.” “I promised her she could narrate if she’d come,” Starlight shrugged, “I like bigger parties. Thanks again, Spike.” “I don’t mind,” Spike smiled, “I was actually surprised she already had such a well-developed campaign ready…” “Do Flim and Flam have their character sheets?” Trixie asked, hurriedly. “Yes, yes…” the clean-shaven twin smirked at her reaction, “Now, show me why this is such a fun pastime.” Starlight was rather distracted throughout the campaign. She couldn’t help but think about what the future would hold. An important decision on the governance of Equestria was in the works, but her friends all seemed unconcerned about it. Governmental changes were a cause for concern, weren’t they? Shouldn’t there be more reaction? From looking around the castle and Canterlot, it seemed like only the delegates and representatives of city-states cared; the regular subjects were set loyally for their city-states and thus didn’t see it as an issue. After all, they would win. Starlight knitted her brow. What would happen to that confidence and lack of concern when one side didn’t win? … Luna braved the storms of tumultuous dreams. Ponies had grown increasingly restless in their sleep, unconscious fears boiling over at night where they were suppressed by day. The democratic city-state dwellers feared the loss of freedom; the imperial city-state dwellers feared anarchy. Luna tried to offer hope to both, promising the former that there was a good chance Equestria would unite as a democracy, and trying to convince the latter that democracy wasn’t anarchy and their fears were unfounded. While the republican city-state citizens’ dreams did grow calmer, the imperials only grew more panicked. Luna had put the work off too long, using more and more of her time – time that usually went to her royal duties – tweaking the constitution she desperately wanted to present to her sister. Secretly, though… secretly she knew Celestia wasn’t going to give her the time of day. Sighing, she entered another dream, this one of the Marexican representative that had been sent alongside the Germane and had set all these events into motion. The Princess of the Night gaped at the scene before her. She remembered Marexico when it had been like the imperial city-states, before they had adopted the model Prance used; she remembered when Prance, itself, had been imperial, and Trottingham had been the most progressive of city-states, long before Ponyville had been founded. Marexico had always been very festive and bright, and the uniforms of their guards and civil servants had matched, all vibrant hues. The culture had hardly changed, but the uniforms had become more drab and efficient while retaining something of their old identity. In this nightmare, however, the old uniforms were back. Luna blinked at her surroundings. The streets were broken, half the lights didn’t work, and many ponies were forced to live in makeshift slums in alleys. Intimidating stallions wearing the bright uniforms of Marexico’s past marched past with sneers at the destitute. Ahead of Luna was the only well-maintained district in the entire city-state, closed off and protected by a wall and armed guards, besieged by the destitute. Luna walked through without trouble, finding the Marexican representative on the other side, looking distressed but well-off. “Princess Luna!” she bowed deeply, “My Lady, whatever are you doing here? We’ve already sent this month’s taxes…” “Be at ease, Spring Dahlias,” Luna said, drawing up the representative’s name from memory, “You are having a nightmare.” “You can say that again,” Spring Dahlias sighed, looking about her with disgust, “Do you see this division? It is just as in our past.” “I visited imperial Marexico often in my youth,” Luna said, “I do not remember such stark contrast.” “A thousand years ago there wasn’t,” Dahlias agreed, “but within a few centuries of your banishment, things became worse. Princess Celestia became so busy, managing the entire kingdom herself, and raising the sun and moon, so much of governance fell to the nobility. Without any pony looking over their shoulders, many of them became corrupt.” “I see,” Luna nodded, thinking back to her brush-up courses on history when she had returned. None of them had mentioned corruption, but that certainly explained the rest of it. “The corrupt leaders inspired ponies to move out, seeking to form their own city-states…” “Yes,” Dahlias smiled, weakly, “For those who stayed in the city-states, they struggled to change the system. Trottingham imposed a constitution that forced the nobility to listen to their subjects and imposed a checks and balancing system. Prance, however… well, the nobility had to be removed, which displeased Celestia and many others. Marexico had to do the same.” “Interesting,” Luna mused, feeling a new wave of emotions. Why had this been obfuscated by the historical accounts? Luna decided that, as soon as she had some free time, she’d have to read accounts of such events written by ponies from the area and not from outside observers, like she had been doing. “If Equestria goes imperial, I won’t stand for it,” Dahlias said, suddenly, startling Luna, “I won’t! Marexico will secede and stay a sovereign republic. I will not allow this division and suffering to return!” Luna opened her mouth to say something about how she should trust in her leaders, that they wouldn’t allow something like this to happen again, but… how could she? It had happened under Celestia’s watch, during a time of peace and prosperity. Celestia had allowed the city-states to govern themselves with the nobility in charge, and they had grown corrupt with that independence. Now she would do the same all over again. What right did Luna have telling this mare, or any other citizen of Equestria, that they had to stay in such a nation? A detail caught her eye, though. “Why are you on this side of the wall?” she asked. “I am a government official,” Dahlias frowned, “and… and I am descended from the noble family that originally governed Marexico. My birth alone guarantees my status if we return to the old ways, which is unfair. I earned this position myself, not by my birth.” “Is all your family so successful?” the Princess asked. “No,” Dahlias snorted, “many are poor or middle class. That is more their fault than the system, though; they were not forced into it.” “I have a student who would say no pony should be poor…” Luna mused, but dismissed the thought. Starlight’s ideas were not very applicable, and besides, it was too close to the deadline to try alterations. “I will give my full support for any democratic city-states who wish to secede.” “Truly?” Dahlias gaped, “What if Equestria becomes a republic and the imperial city-states threaten secession?” “That is unlikely,” Luna said, meaning it was unlikely the imperials would secede. In truth, it was unlikely Equestria would become a republic, either. “If they do, the ponies will suffer without their leaders and see the success of the republic, and they will make the decisions Prance and Marexico made.” “Will you join us?” the representative asked. Luna noticed the dream was already shifting back to the modern Marexico, with newer architecture and cleaner streets, happier ponies walking about with no divisionary walls. “If we are forced to secede, I fear none will follow or work together unless we have an alicorn supporting us.” “Republics are supposed to be run by regular ponies…” Luna said, “I would not be a Princess, and I cannot abandon Equestria…” “You would not be!” Dahlias assured her, “Roughly half of Equestria’s population is within democratic city-states running off the republican model! If we seceded, who is to say that we are not the true Equestria and that Celestia failed us as a leader?” “I do not like where this is going,” Luna said, feeling anxious. “We need a leader who can bind us and stand their own against Celestia,” Dahlias said, “at least at first. Please, Princess… your subjects are crying out for freedom, a freedom you support! Will you not join us if push comes to shove?” “I…” Luna stammered, then sighed in resignation, “I cannot turn my back on my subjects.” Dahlias’ face fell. “…nor can I ignore a cry for freedom,” the Princess continued, offering a smile as Dahlias’ eyes alighted with hope, “Very well. The decision shall be made soon, so gather your allies – in secret! – and let them know. If my sister sees how we are willing to leave for this cause, she will surely reconsider and – at the very least – we can reach a compromise of some sort.” “As long as Marexico is not forced to return to noble rule,” Dahlias sighed, relieved that they could avoid conflict, “then we will continue to be a part of Equestria.” “I would also recommend appointing your leaders for this impromptu republic,” Luna suggested, “It will help our cause if it looks like we’re already organized if and when we need to leave. Celestia might ignore our demands if it looks like we’re nothing more than disheveled protestors.” “Understood,” the representative nodded, quickly. “Between now and waking, my dear Spring Dahlias,” Luna smiled as she began to fade, “pleasant dreams.” Luna returned to the waking realm to find she still had some time left before her usual bedtime. The Princess of the Night approached the constitution, but as she reread it, she found there was nothing left to tweak. It was as close to perfect as she wanted it to be. Yawning, she decided to go to bed. She would submit it to Celestia later in the afternoon, in front of the assembly, and her sister would listen, or suffer the consequences. Luna couldn’t help but smirk as she fell into her own slumber at the prospect of putting her sister on the spot on a Sunday, of all days. … “We have to train?” Spike asked through a yawn, his fellow squires beside him, “Even on a Sunday?” “Will the enemy avoid attacking on a Sunday?” Night Bane demanded, “I think not.” Knowing there was no point arguing with their instructor, the squires remained silent and awaited instructions. Night Bane ran them through their usual drills in sword and spear, then had them pair up as best they could. Typically, the bouts ran with Flim and Flam working as a single combatant, since even together they were just barely a match for any of the others. Night Bane sighed at their display. They were trying, but they just weren’t warriors. Frankly, only Scootaloo seemed a genuine warrior. Spike and Big Mac were trying as well, and they’d certainly make excellent fighters in their own right, but their interest wasn’t fully into the art like Scootaloo’s was. Big Mac aimed to return to his farm one day; Spike was more interested in matters of the heart. Scootaloo, though… she would pursue the art as far as it got her for she strived to prove herself to Rainbow Dash. A futile endeavor, since the Wonderbolt already believed in Scootaloo, but it gave the pegasus filly the spunk to keep striving. “Our time is up, squires,” the Night Guard said, “but before I dismiss you, you should know that Princess Luna will no longer be instructing the chivalry course.” “What?” Scootaloo asked, stunned. Her fellow squires were equally confused. “Political matters,” Night Bane said, gruffly, narrowing his eyes as he noticed Gutsy Gust watching them from the edge of the training yard. Was he keeping an eye on Flim and Flam, as he often did, or was Princess Celestia having him switch focus exclusively to Luna’s courses…? “I will take it upon myself to instruct you in the arts of chivalry. I am not a heartless taskmaster; in fact, Thursdays will actually be days of recuperation. You will train every other day, as we have been doing, but the class will be purely focused on the more philosophical elements of chivalry.” “Um, Mr. Night Bane?” Scootaloo asked with trepidation, “Are you alright? You seemed a little distracted through most of the session.” “Very astute, squire,” Night Bane grunted, “I suppose current events has me concerned. It doesn’t concern you, of course. Enjoy your Sunday and stick to your studies, alright?” “Yes Sir,” Scootaloo nodded. Night Bane watched them clean up their gear and leave, noticing Gutsy Gust had stayed after they left and only departed when the Night Guard looked up at him. Between that and all the sudden transfers between Night and Day Guards… Night Bane shook his head, chuckling. He was overreacting; things wouldn’t get that bad. Would they? … “What is the meaning of this, Luna?” Celestia barely kept her voice from seething. The Princess of the Night had burst through the doors, awake far earlier than usual, and barging into the midst of a heated political situation. The republican city-state representatives had started a coalition, threatening secession if Equestria went the route of imperialism. Celestia was confident they didn’t have the approval of their governors, and certainly not the consent of the governed as their constitutions demanded. Surely it was just an empty threat? Still, the Princess of the Day sensed Luna’s hoof in all of it. “The meaning of what, sister?” Luna wore a mocking smile. “The democratic city-states are threatening secession if I do not agree to make Equestria a republic!” Celestia exclaimed, surrounded by outraged representatives from the imperial city-states. “Then it is a good thing I have finished the constitution draft,” Luna decreed, loud enough for all gathered to hear. “The what?” Celestia blinked. “Have you already forgotten?” Luna sneered, “You promised that if I finished a constitutional draft by which Equestria can function as a republic, you would appraise it and – if it was to your liking – we could discuss converting Equestria to a republic.” “Your Majesty?” the Germane representative paled, looking back at Celestia, “Is this true?” “I did promise that we’d discuss it further…” Celestia said, rigidly, “if it seemed sound.” “Then take a look,” Luna said, levitating the parchment to her sister. Celestia unrolled it and gave the document a cursory glance, skimming through it. There were many minor flaws and some serious issues, but it was a good start. It could, feasibly, work with some more development. But Celestia was not in the mood to entertain such designs. “This won’t work,” she said, flatly, “I’m sorry, sister, but Equestria will be an empire. It must be in order to survive.” “You barely even read the document,” Luna looked hurt, snatching it back with her magic and startling her sister, “Very well. If you won’t use it, then may it serve the secessionists well as a template.” The constitution was given to Spring Dahlias, startling the conservative members of the assembly and especially Celestia. “You would support these… traitors?” the Princess of the Day asked, coldly. “I would allow them the right to govern themselves,” Luna retorted, just as cold, “a right you have suspended, apparently.” “I will not allow this!” Celestia raged. “This is a co-regency, sister,” Luna reminded her, “You have no right to force them to stay without consent, nor do you have a right to mobilize any effort to force them to stay without my shared consent. Let them go in peace.” “We hope to remain peaceful allies with-” Spring Dahlias began. “Leave,” Celestia said, suddenly, without emotion. The representatives stood motionless and silent, unsure what that meant. “ALL OF YOU LEAVE!” Celestia howled in her Royal Voice, white fire dancing across her body. In a panic, the mortal ponies fled except for the Guards. Celestia briefly thought about dismissing them as well, unwilling to have any witnesses for this petty affair, but decided she had let her composure slip enough. Calming only slightly, she glared down at Luna. “We were supposed to unite Equestria, and you have taken every opportunity to keep us divided.” “I could say the same of you, sister,” Luna shot back, unfazed by her sister’s theatrics; it was nothing she hadn’t seen before, “You refused to even discuss the constitution, and you have often flaunted your views over mine.” “I have a millennium of experience governing these lands more than you,” Celestia said, “I know my subjects, and I have governed fairly.” “You are out of touch,” Luna grimaced, “They worship you as a goddess while they disregard your teachings. Your nobility – the kind you wish to reinstate in the city-states – is prone to corruption and abuse of power. Your system rewards opportunism, and you cannot see it from the gilded cage you’ve built for yourself here in Canterlot.” “And you can?” Celestia rolled her eyes. “I see it and more,” Luna stood straighter, her dark aura balancing out Celestia’s blazing one, “I have roamed these lands at night and seen the standards ponies and non-ponies live in, the obvious discrepancies between classes, between castes, and between species. I have seen into their dreams, seen the conceit of the unicorns and the wealthy, and the fear of the impoverished earth pony and pegasus, and the non-pony. The nightmares of the nobles, the wealthy, and the unicorns are almost entirely superficial and miniscule compared to the sea of fears that haunt the remaining population, and yet you cannot see it! “How can I expect you to see it when the only ones around you are wealthy politicians and unicorn students?” Celestia’s wrath had eroded the longer Luna had talked, her anger being replaced by shock. Luna had spoken true, of course, but… but that only enraged Celestia further. To imply that she was a prisoner, to imply that she was out of touch! It smacked of insult, as if Luna were saying she was a fool. The alicorn felt her rage boil up and then violently suppressed it. “Are you going to join them?” Celestia asked, coldly. “I will offer them my support,” Luna said, calmly, “and I will work with them in camaraderie. In time, I hope we can be – at the very least – allies. Someday, I dream the empire you wish to build will look at their success and we can reunite, adopting their constitution. Until that time, however, I see no reason to appear weak to this so-called Orduud beyond our borders, nor do I see a reason for there to be hostilities between the city-states.” Celestia felt her anger ebb away and felt more than a little ridiculous for having gotten so worked up. What was she thinking? Luna wasn’t trying a power play or anything. In time, the city-states would reunite – just not the way Luna thought. Celestia was confident the republic scheme would probably fall through, even with Luna’s patronage, and they’d rejoin Equestria as a whole. “My apologies, sister,” Celestia smiled, meekly, “I fear I’ve been paranoid of late.” “I believe we all have,” Luna chortled, gently, “If you will excuse me, I think I’ll take a power nap before my duties tonight.” “Of course,” Celestia agreed, “I could use a nap myself.” “It is the day to worship the Sun,” Luna smirked, “Do not feel ashamed to pamper yourself a little. Perhaps you should spend some time with Flim and Flam… or rather just Flam.” “Only if you agree to a spend some time with Big Macintosh tonight,” Celestia smirked in turn. Luna thought about it. “Agreed,” the Princess of the Night responded, startling Celestia, “Enjoy your date.” Celestia was left stammering as Luna confidently strode out of the chamber. The Princess of the Night felt her smile slip the closer she got to her bedchamber. She had very nearly sparked a confrontation right then and there. Only by keeping a cool head – something incredibly difficult for her – had she managed to avoid an incident. Now she had to continue her duties while helping manage the upstart republic, and would likely have to aid in restructuring the rest of Equestria into an empire. After all, if she didn’t help with that and let Celestia do all the work, then she would essentially be saying Celestia was the sole empress. It was too much work, even for an Alicorn Princess. What she needed was an assistant to work with the republic. Smiling as she drifted into her nap, Luna realized the perfect mare for the job.