//------------------------------// // 15 // Story: When Heavens Divide // by Mediocre Morsov //------------------------------// 15 Twilight found herself staring at the Map again for most of the Monday morning. No pony came in to stop her, for no pony lived with her. Nor dragon. The Map seemed lifeless, and its magic was beyond her understanding – it was beyond even Starswirl’s understanding. She needed someone even wiser than him. With a grimace, she went out to retrieve someone who might not have been wiser, but had knowledge in powerful magic. A mild-paced trot through Ponyville brought her to the woods where a cottage rested, isolated from the light and pollution of even the smallest towns. The alicorn knocked on the door and was greeted almost instantly by bumping noises and laughter from the other side. “Just a moment!” Fluttershy’s voice giggled from the other side. Twilight felt herself pale at what she might be walking into. The door opened and she saw there had been nothing to worry about. Well, at least nothing suggestive. Discord was there as she had predicted, though wearing a frilly apron and holding a tray of doughy gingerbread ponies. The only cause for concern was that some objects had begun defying reality around Discord, namely one of Fluttershy’s vanity mirrors which was folding in on itself through origami and taking on the aspects of whatever it became. Here a swan, there a bear, and so on, Twilight’s startled features reflected in every angle. “It’s quite lovely, isn’t it?” Fluttershy asked, her face joining Twilight’s in the reflections, “I think I might ask him to keep it as a swan, though I’m worried it would frighten the other animals.” “It is unique,” Twilight admitted, tearing her eyes away from the crystalline creature and seeing Discord put the gingerbread ponies into the heated oven. Immediately they started screaming, but Discord closed the door and whistled over them. Slightly disturbed, Twilight couldn’t help but feel a pang of loss at seeing the apron, so similar in design to Spike’s. “Is there a problem, Princess?” Discord asked with a wry smile, “Don’t worry, they weren’t real ponies I turned into cookies or anything; that’d be too many calories.” “I need your help,” Twilight said, figuring there was no point beating around the bush with Equestria’s oldest prankster. “Alright…” Discord’s smile widened, “I’m intrigued.” “I don’t think the Map is working…” Twilight said. “I can’t help with that,” Discord’s smile faltered, “My powers are centered around random acts of creation and change – not reparation.” “Surely you know something about the Map?” Twilight allowed her desperation to show. “I’m sorry, Twilight,” Discord sighed, snapping a chair beneath Twilight, “The only thing I know about the Elements and anything they spawned was that I could be imprisoned by them. Have you tried contacting Starswirl?” “I don’t know where he is,” Twilight teleported a postcard with a grimace, “The last postcard he sent me was from Las Pegasus.” “’Wish you were… her’?” Discord read the card, trying not to laugh, “My, that’s a pretty unicorn in the picture.” “Discord…” Fluttershy warned. “Alright, alright!” Discord chuckled, “It’s good to see the old oaf has mellowed out with age, at least. I’m sorry, Twi, but unless you want me to turn it into something else, I can’t really do much. Ooo, how about a fondue machine?” “I’ll pass…” the Princess sighed, “I know there’s a friendship problem, but the Map won’t send us anywhere. It’s not telling me anything.” “Maybe we’ll find out soon,” Fluttershy said, “A little birdie told me that Canterlot has reached a decision about the political situation. I’m sure Celestia will be in contact shortly. Or the other group.” “The other group?” Twilight rounded on Fluttershy. “Well, she told me that some of the city-states are seceding, but I don’t know which ones,” the pegasus offered a conciliatory smile, “Canaries don’t have words for political ideologies.” “This is horrible!” Twilight groaned, “The whole point of restructuring Equestria was to keep us united!” “I’m sure it will blow over,” Discord snorted, “One side will be more successful than the other, ponies will be unhappy, and in no time you’ll all be singing and baking cakes.” “Discord, have you heard anything about the political situation?” Twilight asked, “You are friends with the Princesses, aren’t you?” “Me?” Discord smirked, “Well, they haven’t reached out to me, but this Orduud group has offered me a seat at their meetings as the representative of the draconequues peoples. Largely redundant since I’m the only one I know of.” “The Orduud?” the two ponies asked. “Some silly little group of non-ponies that are trying to unite in order to keep Equestrian expansion out of their borders,” the God of Chaos waved a hand dismissively, “I do believe their alliance is what prompted this silly squabble in the first place.” “Are you going to join them?” the alicorn asked, cautiously. “I don’t plan on joining any side!” Discord laughed, “I’m a spirit of Chaos; not a mortal obligated to allegiances. Besides, the only reason I bother visiting your dimension these days is to spend time with Fluttershy and occasionally participate in Guy’s Night… which I missed, last night.” “He was helping me dig a new pond for the fish,” Fluttershy beamed. Twilight narrowed her eyes at the two as they exchanged half-lidded expressions and knowing smiles. Was the term “best friend” just a cover in Ponyville, or something? Or was Twilight reading too much into the situation? When things were less dire, the Princess vowed to take some lessons on relationships from Cadence. “Well, I suppose there’s nothing for it…” Twilight sighed, “Your birds can transmit news that quickly?” “Of course,” Fluttershy giggled, “and they aren’t my birds. Unfortunately, I seem to be the only pony capable of understanding them. Even then, sometimes things are lost in translation.” “Too bad,” Twilight frowned, “I miss Spike. I hope I get a letter from him soon.” “It is Monday,” the pegasus reminded her, “Canterlot is very close. Even if they sent them Saturday evening, it’s possible letters could arrive today or tomorrow.” “That’s true!” Twilight brightened at the prospect of being pen pals with her… dragon-son? She wasn’t sure she could start referring to the drake as her son, per se, but that was certainly the place he held in her heart, and it was obvious he felt the same. “Still, I wish he were here.” “I fail to see how the ruler of Spiketopia could fix the map,” Discord said, putting emphasis on Spike’s roleplaying creation. “I don’t wish him back to fix the map,” Twilight snapped, slightly, “I just want him back because I miss him. He’s been a constant presence in my life for… well, more than half my life! Now the castle’s empty and every pony in town is at each other’s throats and I don’t know what to do.” “The smartest thing would be for you to declare neutrality until the whole silly thing blows over,” Discord said. “Whatever Celestia decides, I’ll follow her example,” Twilight smiled, “She is a wise leader; she’s never let me down before.” “There’s a first time for everything, Princess,” the draconequues chuckled. Twilight narrowed her eyes, wondering if the Spirit of Chaos were behind all of this. He had a track record for betrayal, even if it had been awhile, and his powers could inspire disharmony amongst ponies. Still, to orchestrate political divisions that had been present for at least several centuries – centuries in which he had been frozen – would have required a level of foresight, planning, and manipulation beyond even Celestia’s ability. Ponies thought of alicorns as goddesses, but the Princesses denied such titles because they recognized their own limitations. Discord embraced the title “God of Chaos”, though… Perhaps his powers were beyond those of any one alicorn, even Celestia. Twilight filed the idea away for later. Perhaps Discord was the culprit, but she had learned to quit jumping to conclusions that could damage friendships, and as annoying as he could be sometimes, Discord was her friend. Accusing him of orchestrating a race war and civil war simultaneously would very likely destroy their friendship. Who did that, anyway? “Do you two have plans today?” she decided to ask, “I don’t want to butt in, of course, but… Well, I’m kind of lonely.” “What else is new?” Discord asked with a smirk, earning a shy elbow to the ribs that even an immortal spirit of chaos could feel, “Er, I mean… Fluttershy and I were only going to have a tea party, maybe cause some mischief. I have to attend a conference tomorrow.” Twilight raised a skeptical eyebrow and even Fluttershy looked unconvinced. “I’m serious!” Discord scoffed, “I do have a job. Sort of.” “I wasn’t aware being the God of Chaos involved conferences,” Twilight murmured. “He makes copies of himself and does all sorts of wacky antics,” Fluttershy whispered and giggled to her friend, “He calls it ‘Me Time’.” “My dear, you really shouldn’t share all my secrets,” Discord chortled, “Is there anything you would like to do, Princess?” “Well, what do you two normally do?” Twilight asked. Fluttershy and Discord went bug-eyed, sparing a quick glance at each other. “Nothing,” they said quickly. Twilight opened her mouth to ask, then shook her head. “How about we have a spa day with the others?” Twilight suggested. “That sounds nice,” Fluttershy smiled, then frowned, “But what about Discord?” “I don’t see why he can’t come along,” Twilight smirked, “Surely the God of Chaos wouldn’t mind a little pampering…” “Why, I’m flattered!” Discord chuckled, “I always assumed you never invited me because you were embarrassed of me.” “It wouldn’t be very friendly of me if I did that,” the Princess giggled, “Now, let’s enjoy the day!” Twilight led the way to their friends’ houses around Ponyville, trying to ignore the mounting tension of the towns-ponies and wondering when news would arrive from Canterlot. Hopefully a royal decree would set everything right. … “Your technique is sloppy,” Trixie noted, slurping on the straw of her drink. It was one of Flim and Flam’s latest creations. How they found time to make new drinks was beyond her, but darn it all if they didn’t make catchy slogans and interesting flavors. Before her lay the heap of squires, glaring up at her. Night Bane stood over them, sword in his muzzle and raising a skeptical eyebrow at the magician. “Like you know anything about martial arts forms…” Scootaloo muttered, picking herself up. Why was she surprised their instructor had floored the five of them? Sure, they had numbers, but he was considered one of the few knights left in Equestria for a reason. “Of course Trixie does,” Trixie snorted, hopping from the bleachers and levitating Flim’s sword before her. In a surprising bout of strokes and parries, she demonstrated the correct technique before returning it to Flim’s side. “Trixie might not be a fighter, but if there’s one thing she understands, it’s show-pony-ship and sleight-of-hoof. “That’s all well and good, but you can’t expect us to keep up those forms in the heat of battle!” Flam cried. Trixie sighed and rolled her eyes, taking up Flim’s sword. “If you require a demonstration, Trixie will oblige,” she murmured, “En garde.” Flam furrowed his brow and performed their usual practice strokes against the magician. Frustratingly, the blue unicorn executed the counterstrokes perfectly, years of working complicated card-shuffling giving her magic a dexterity and finesse the twins lacked. Flam increased the pace and the magician matched it. Finally, his frustration blinded him and she whacked him on the shoulder. “Whoops,” she smirked, reveling in his glaring. “You should be a squire with us!” Scootaloo beamed, “That was amazing!” “Trixie is quite amazing, yes,” the magician giggled, “but she simply isn’t interested. Besides, perfecting the forms is only one part of it; don’t you also have to be willing to get hurt and fight monsters and stuff? Trixie might be many things, but brave she is not.” “You went into the changeling hive to save Equestria, and all you had were smoke bombs,” Spike pointed out, “I think that’s pretty brave.” “Starlight seems to have a thing for charmers…” Trixie chortled before looking over her shoulder to make sure the other unicorn wasn’t nearby, “Anyway, Trixie has no interest in knights or war. She certainly has no interest in being hit by sticks.” “That’s probably best,” Night Bane grunted, unable to prevent the smile on his face at seeing his students humbled, “It’s almost time for Princess Celestia’s class. You girls should get ready.” The squires cleaned up and divided into their usual class groups. Flim, Flam, and the Crusaders trotted to the Celestia’s classroom, discussing their grades and new strategies for studying. Only Apple Bloom excelled at the subjects, but her gumption and ability teetered on the unnatural. The twins were in the middle of discussing how to apply their lessons to business ethics, since the Princess of the Day had begun assigning them more work in that area, when the group arrived at the classroom only to be greeted by Gutsy Gust. “Apologies,” the pegasus muttered in the slurring speech he rarely used. In the entire time he’d been ‘protecting’ Flim and Flam, he had spoken less than a hundred words. “Princess Celestia has canceled class today. She is making an important announcement soon. You are welcome to attend.” “Must be important,” Flam muttered. “That’s the most you’ve spoken since we’ve arrived!” Flim agreed. “I wonder if this has to do with the republic?” Apple Bloom mused. Gutsy Gust tensed, his eyes blazing with scorn for only an instant before he returned to his usual, lackluster appearance. “If you wish to attend the proclamation,” he muttered again, “follow me.” The Royal Guard led the way to the main hall where the Princesses often dealt with their subjects, and the students followed with nothing better to do. The hall was filled with members of the administration, diplomats, representatives from every city-state, prominent members of society from nobility to wealthy business-ponies to politicians. Prince Blueblood himself had arrived, looking as self-absorbed as always. The students joined their fellow Ponyville citizens near the back. Princess Luna sat, sanguinely, in her throne, avoiding looking at her sister, yet also keeping her face blank of emotion. Celestia herself was resplendent, radiating light. Starlight and the others had been gaping and now the friendship students could see why: the Princess of the Day had donned golden armor, ceremonial and expertly engraved with runic script. Resting upon her shoulders was thick cape of shimmering fabric that flowed in a similar manner as her mane, though in the colors of a blazing fire – reds, oranges, yellows, and whites. Upon her head, a newer, more impressive tiara, fashioned as a laurel wreath with a strange winged-horn icon at its apex. Luna wore her usual garb, which had always seemed stunning and yet now insufficient compared to her sister’s ensemble. None gathered knew it, save for the Princesses and their personal aides and servants, but two suits of armor, two capes, and two crowns had been fashioned long ago for just such a moment as this and set aside while the Princesses matured. The intent was that one day they would both feel ready to claim the title of Queen, but neither had seen the point of it – especially since one had been banished for most of their reign. Now the garb was being taken up for them to claim the titles of Empresses, but Luna had refused to don a symbol of authoritarianism as ostentatious as that. Celestia grimaced inwardly, realizing how ridiculous she looked standing there, the only one of the co-regents dressed in such a manner. Worse, she realized many of her subjects were looking up at her with renewed awe, basking in her glory as if she were the goddess they made her out to be. Celestia suppressed the bile such a realization formed in the back of her throat, suppressed her disgust and shame, and used her powerful sorcery to open twin portals to the locations of the two absent Alicorn Princesses. Cutting through the air, these shimmering circles showed the stunned visages of Twilight Sparkle in the middle of Ponyville, trotting with her friends towards the spa, and an exhausted Cadence rocking Flurry Heart asleep, Shining Armor and Sunburst beside her. “Aunt – I mean – Princess,” Cadence bowed and Twilight mirrored the motion, “What is the meaning of this?” “News travels too slowly between the Crystal Empire and Equestria,” Celestia’s voice carried with the strength of the Royal Voice without any of its overbearing forcefulness, “I have an important decree for all pony city-states, and there can be no delay. Through the millennia, the lands of ponies have been bound through friendship and harmony, but in recent years this has not been enough. “Our lands have often been beset by foreign enemies and their intrigues, and our citizens have often been pitted against one another out of petty rivalries. No more shall these divisions be allowed. This is a call to all of the pony city-states to honor their vows and submit to the Twin Crowns of Equestria. I, and my sister Luna, are henceforth claiming the titles of Empresses of the Equestrian Empire and consolidating political authority towards Canterlot. Every city-state, from Manehattan in the east to Vanhoover in the west, from the far-off islands of Nippony to the deserts of Saddle Arabia, and every land where pony has laid hoof, shall reaffirm their vows to us and unite as one, glorious nation. “We do this not to seize power. We have governed from afar, offering great personal freedom to the city-states, for over a thousand years. We unite and centralize power now only at the behest of our subjects, in response to fears that such disharmony would leave us weakened against foreign enemies. Now we shall be united, and in our unity, we shall be secure.” Celestia patiently waited as her booming voice’s echoes died out and the effect of her words finished settling into the hearts and minds of all present. Twilight and Cadence looked as dumbfounded as her subjects looked awed or horrified. After a pause that crawled on like eternity, the Germane representative stepped forward. “Although I have no power in the decision my Lord will make, I am certain he will honor his vows to the Princesses – nay! – to the Empresses!” he swore, “If they do not, have no doubt that I shall!” “The same goes for Saddle Arabia, Celestia willing!” the Saddle Arabian representative, newly-arrived, assured her. At once the representatives from imperial city-states affirmed their loyalty to the Equestrian Empire, certain their city-states would make the right decision. Only Trottingham and a few others hesitated; the republican city-states stayed completely silent about their loyalty, eyes locked onto Spring Dahlias. “Centralizing governmental control back to the nobility and our monarchs is all well and good,” the Trottingham representative began slowly, looking to his fellow holdouts, “but some city-states will be concerned about economic freedoms and the rights of non-nobles to generate capital for themselves.” “You need not fear, Sir Redcoat,” Celestia smiled, softly, her radiance not diminished in the slightest by so humane an action, “I modeled the Equestrian Empire’s constitution on the Trottingham model. There are some emergency powers we, the Princesses, and the nobility can implement in times of emergency, but by and large, lawmaking will remain with the hands of local governments, and businesses will be free to practice with minimal regulation. I am sorry to say that some industries have become corrupt, and a firmer hoof will be needed to steer them back to a system of justice and harmony.” The republican city-state representatives exchanged mixed looks, some warily approving Celestia’s move, others sickened by it. The imperial holdouts looked concerned by regulation. “Is it really necessary to regulate industries?” Sir Redcoat asked, licking his lips. He not only represented the city-state, but the Trottingham Trading Company, which had monopolized maritime trade and strangled competition. The TTC was exactly the kind of business that Celestia would regulate, and that meant Sir Redcoat was liable to lose bits… “Most businesses will only have to meet a standard set by the newly-created Imperial Friendly Finances Administration,” Celestia explained, patiently, a dark glint in her eye as she stared down the imperial holdouts, “Some businesses with a… shall we say, overwhelming control, will be absorbed by the Empire and used for the benefit of all of Equestria. Trottingham has nothing to fear from this, for all those with economic interests will be offered equivalent positions in the nationalized business, or financial compensation. These changes will be few and far between, and will open business positions to ponies of all classes – provided they are approved by the Imperial Friendly Finances Administration. Surely a loyal city-state, supporting the Empire and the Empresses, will not mind this small cessation of control? After all, it is the basis for the imperial system you claim to support.” “Hear! Hear!” one of the republican city-states muttered, darkly, glad to see the imperial holdouts put on the fire. The loyal imperial city-states eyed the holdouts with cold suspicion; the republicans eyed them with contempt. “Of course, Your Majesty,” Sir Redcoat bowed at last, feeling cold inside, “Trottingham will almost assuredly submit to the Equestrian Empire. We are loyal to the Twin Crowns.” “Excellent,” the dark glint in Celestia’s eye disappeared and she was back to her usual, benevolent self, radiating goodwill. She turned her gaze to the republican city-states, expectantly. “The offer is still open, and I would urge you to take it.” “We appreciate it, Your Majesty,” Spring Dahlias bowed her head, slightly, quite at odds with the deep bows the other ponies performed, “We are democratic city-states, however, and as such, we reserve our oaths of loyalty until our city-states are properly appraised of the situation and our citizens have had a chance to vote on the issue.” Celestia only nodded, seeing the resolve in their eyes. If every pony in their city-states was like them, it was almost certain they would secede. “I wish to add something,” Luna spoke up and Celestia suppressed a creeping dread. Allowing the newly-raised Empress of the Night to take the center of the stage, Celestia returned to her throne, feeling even more ridiculous in her golden plates and jewels. Luna stood tall, her face stoic and with reserved passion. “It is my fervent hope that Equestria will one day be united in its entirety, and that all ponies will be free to travel between these lands that the moon and sun shed light upon. It is imperative that all ponies, regardless of caste or city-state, be given the right to decide their own fate.” The republican ponies, including Starlight and many of the Night Guards, nodded at her words. Spike found himself frowning at the use of ‘ponies’ without ‘and non-ponies’ following. Neither Empress had mentioned the non-ponies. He was the only non-pony present, but he had worked to draft that constitution as hard as the ponies in the group. “And, should this debate result in an unfortunate division of our lands,” Luna continued, “it is my fervent hope and my most humble request that whatever nations are born out of it will allow dual-citizenship to all ponies, rather than turn their brothers and sisters away out of petty politics.” Celestia writhed on the inside, resentful that her co-regent would ever entertain the very real possibility of secession aloud. It was tactless and blunt, but then again, that had always been Luna’s style… All the same, Celestia agreed with the sentiment. “Agreed,” the Empress of the Day nodded, “We shall see to it – if such an eventuality were to occur – that it will be as painless as possible for Equestria’s citizens.” Secretly, both Empresses wondered if they could keep such a promise… “Princess Cadence,” Celestia turned her attention to the portals, “Princess Twilight… You are the rulers of the Crystal Empire and Ponyville, respectively. Being Alicorn Princesses, your overall control will stretch to city-states beyond those territories. It is a great responsibility, but I am certain you are ready for it. We will await your formal oaths of loyalty to the Equestrian Empire.” “Aunt… I mean, Empress Celestia…” Cadence was wide-eyed while her male companions were speechless, “This is so sudden. I wasn’t even aware there were issues occurring in the south.” “All will be fine, Cadence,” Celestia assured her, “I can count on your loyalty to Equestria, of course?” Cadence hesitated. She didn’t have a full picture of the situation, but if her aunts were in agreement – which appeared to be the case – then she would trust their decision. “Of course, Your Majesty,” the pink alicorn bowed, “The Crystal Empire will join the Equestrian Empire.” “Excellent,” Celestia said in a sigh of relief, “And you, my faithful student?” “I am confident every pony will be pleased to be part of a larger community!” Twilight said, putting on a too-large smile. In the corner of the portal, Celestia could see Fluttershy look away from the Princess of Friendship, but her pink mane hid her expression. Unknown to the alicorns, the pegasus had looked away in disgust. “I, myself, will certainly follow any path you set.” “Wonderful,” Celestia beamed. With three alicorns for the Empire, and the republican city-states yet to vote, Celestia was confident Luna’s silly republican ambitions would fall apart quickly. “Now, if there is nothing else, I will close this-” “Wait!” a quiet voice sounded. Soft as it was, it carried through the chamber and stunned even the Empress of the Day. In the portal, Fluttershy had stepped forward, gently shouldering a shocked Twilight aside. Celestia’s eyes widened a fraction at the resolve in the pegasus’ own. “Yes, Fluttershy?” the Empress asked. “I want to be independent,” she said, simply. Celestia blinked. “You are a citizen of Ponyville and Equestria, though,” she pointed out, “You have obligations to your city-state and to your country. You must respect the decisions of your leaders.” “Decisions I had no say in!” Fluttershy stamped her hoof, eliciting gasps of shock from the imperial representatives, “Twilight is free to join your Empire, and any pony who wants to follow her can do so, but I’ve learned that I shouldn’t be pressured into doing what others tell me to do if it makes me feel uncomfortable, and submitting myself – or the lands I’ve set up for wildlife – to an Empire where ponies don’t have a voice in government makes me very, very uncomfortable!” “You cannot live isolated…” Celestia said, irritation evident in her voice, “What about your friends? What about your family?” “Am I not allowed to visit them simply because I don’t live in the Empire?” Fluttershy cocked an eyebrow, surprisingly brave. It took a supreme effort for some of those in the crowd not to applaud her while others gasped at the audacity. “I do not take up any of Equestria’s resources. I live in the wilds, away from Equestria’s industries and cities. I trade for supplies rather than make wages, so I don’t have to pay taxes. Besides the fact I was born in Cloudsdale and am a registered citizen of Ponyville, there’s nothing tying me to Equestria; therefore, why do I need to be a part of it? Why can’t I be considered a foreign national?” “How in Equestria do you know all this stuff?” Twilight muttered beside her. “I dabbled in some of your law books after Starlight and you got into that fight,” the pegasus answered, simply. “Those lands you inhabit may be wild,” Celestia smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes, “but they belong to Equestria. They are in our protection.” “I don’t see any walls closing them in,” Fluttershy said, defiantly, “I don’t see any guards out here. What are you protecting, anyway? These creatures are under constant threat from rampant business practices, pollution, and violence!” “Fluttershy, I am your Empress…” Celestia warned, “I can take those lands by force – you know I can.” “Oh can you?” a voice echoed around the chamber, causing ponies to look around in a panic as chocolate milk rain fell from nowhere. Celestia glared at the abomination that appeared in front of her. “Hello Tia, long time, no see!” “Discord…” Celestia muttered, “What do you want?” “To negotiate a settlement for Fluttershy’s sovereignty,” the draconequues chuckled. “And why should I negotiate?” Celestia asked, cautiously, “Are you here to threaten war if I don’t let your filly-friend have her land?” “Filly-friend?” Fluttershy’s cheeks flushed more at the fact Celestia callously declared them as such than the insinuation they were romantically involved. “No, no, nothing so crass!” Discord waved a hand, “Can you all give us some privacy?” With a snap of his fingers, everyone except for himself, the Empresses, and those in the portals was teleported outside of the hall. “Now then, I believe you should know that I have been offered a wonderful seat on the Orduud – those non-ponies you’ve so expertly displeased.” “…And?” Celestia asked, sighing at how thoroughly-ruined her proclamation had become. “…And I’m willing to refuse allying with them and sign whatever silly non-aggression pact you want me to,” Discord said, a mischievous smile growing on his face, “provided you allow Fluttershy her independence and her lands as a protected, sovereign nation for her and her creatures.” “You’re kidding,” Celestia gaped. “I would take that offer,” Luna said, “If Discord allies with the Orduud and we ever had to go to war… I’m confident in our abilities, but I would not invite unnecessary destruction unto our lands.” “There are valuable resources in those woodlands,” Celestia said, “resources Equestria has a claim to.” “Tell that to the buffaloes,” Discord said, darkly, “How about I throw in another consideration? If you do not grant this request, not only will I side with the Orduud, but I’ll simply teleport Fluttershy’s forest lands – resources and all – to my dimension? Then Equestria will have a hole in the ground large enough to make the Ghastly Gorge look like a crack in the sidewalk!” “Alright, fine!” Celestia snorted, her irritation boiling over again, “Fluttershy, your lands will be protected. I will sign the law into effect as Discord signs the non-aggression pact. But Discord?” “Yes Tia?” the God of Chaos asked, amused. “Never threaten me – or Equestria,” the Empress of the Day said, quietly and with the intensity of ten thousand white hot suns, “ever again.” Discord’s smile faded along with his amusement. Some concern crept into his eyes as he looked between the sisters. “What happened to you two?” he asked, quietly, half to himself, “No matter. A deal’s a deal, Your Majesty. I bid you adieu.” The Lord of Chaos rolled in on himself and disappeared into thin air. An instant later, Fluttershy vanished just as suddenly, startling the Princess of Friendship standing beside her. Before Celestia could sigh in frustration, the doors to the hall finally opened and the Royal Guards who had been pushing on them with all their might tumbled in a heap, a crowd of displaced politicians and notables following closely. Starlight and the other students made it over the heap and ahead of the rush, bowing as they came close to the dais upon which the sisters stood. “Princ- I mean, Empresses!” Starlight said, “Are you alright?” “We are, Starlight,” Celestia said, “We reached an agreement on Fluttershy’s estate.” “Indeed,” Luna strode beside her sister and spoke loud enough for the representatives to hear, “Fluttershy has earned her sovereignty, and she does not even have a city-state behind her. Surely this a first in pony history.” Celestia looked at her younger sister, her eyes burning with betrayal and rage, but her face utterly placid. For her part, Luna only smirked triumphantly at her sister. The news that a single pegasus had claimed independence for her lands would inspire hundreds, if not thousands of ponies to secede even if their city-states did not. Celestia was almost seeing red, unsure whether she was more infuriated with her sister’s insolence or Discord’s interference. “Fluttershy has her own country?” Spike’s eyes widened. “It’s… more like a nature reserve,” Celestia forced a smile onto her face, her mind cooking up an excuse, “In fact, I intend to knight her and charge her with its protection.” The look of shock on Luna’s face was worth it and the Empress of the Day’s smile became genuine. “I thought you had to train to become a knight?” Scootaloo asked. “Knight is a title that can be rewarded as well as attained,” Celestia explained, “and some things have changed since my sister’s punishment. For instance, there are different ways to attain knighthood, all of which are for service to the crown – mine or another Princess’. Why, Sir Redcoat here was knighted for being a skilled diplomat.” “It’s true,” the Trottingham stallion chuckled, pleased to have been mentioned. “What about dashing good looks?” Flam asked. “And daring bravado?” Flim asked right on top of his brother. “That’s all well and good, but be realistic,” Celestia said, causing the squires’ cheeks to flush in embarrassment, “Do you see any stallions prancing about in shining armor besides the Royal Guard? No. Do you want to know why knightly orders were disbanded?” “Why?” Big Mac asked. “Because they were unnecessary and ineffective,” Celestia said simply, “Their training was costly – it’s far cheaper and easier to train and outfit a unit of soldiers than it is to invest a lifetime of training into a single combatant. The only reason I wanted you to take the chivalry course was because of the ethics the class taught. Knights are supposed to have a respect for the nobility, tactfulness in diplomacy, and a working education in all things.” “I see you’ve turned knights from the adventuring heroes of yore,” Luna said, disdainfully, “into a throwaway title for bureaucrats.” “Equestria no longer requires swashbuckling, cavalier brutes running around looking for trouble, sister,” Celestia snapped, “We are entering a civilized age. I expected your classes to reflect that…” “We were interested in the class because of the swashbuckling,” Scootaloo explained, chuckling nervously when Celestia turned her eyes upon her, “I’m not really interested in jobs that aren’t, well… active.” “There are plenty of jobs in Equestria for that,” the Empress of the Day dismissed the filly’s opinion, turning to the greater part of her subjects, “Return to your city-states. They have until the end of the month to declare their loyalty or independence; let them know there is no pressure, but that for every city-state that abandons Equestria, we shall be weaker for it. The Royal Guard will be constructed into the Imperial Guard. Control of city-states will fall back into the care of the nobles, but each city-state may appoint civilian representatives to a new political forum we’re creating to help balance the power of nobles and even Princesses and Empresses.” “A new political forum?” Spring Dahlias asked, cautiously. Luna felt her heart sink, worried that the republican city-states would get cold feet and simply submit to the Empire. “Indeed,” Celestia nodded, “It is called a senate. Due to complaints by many of our subjects that authoritarian rule is unjust – and indeed, it is certainly more than a little unfair – I, um, we thought it would be best to have a body of politicians from each city-state to represent them in the overall governance of the Empire.” “And how will they be appointed?” Spring Dahlias challenged, “Who are they representing? The common ponies?” “They will be appointed as their city-states see fit: noble approval or election,” Celestia explained, patiently. Her sister had inspired a severe disrespect in alicorns, apparently… “But you already said the Princesses and nobles will have control of the city-states again,” Spring Dahlias pointed out, gritting her teeth, “Can they override democratic institutions?” Celestia felt her jaw harden. “Yes,” she said, simply. The republican city-state representatives turned away and began to file out, bitterness etched into their faces. “I have not dismissed this lobby, yet.” “With all due respect, Empress,” Spring Dahlias only half-turned back, “many of us have a long way to travel in order to pass this information to our city-states. It’s best not to dally.” Celestia bit her tongue and let them file out. Only one remained, talking to the students. She thanked and dismissed the imperial city-state representatives who bowed graciously and departed. She waited until the students left with their representative friend and the doors were shut before rounding on her sister. Luna wore a confident smirk, challenging her sister with a dark glint in her eye. Celestia shuddered in barely-suppressed rage before turning and leaving herself. Luna sat back in her throne, reveling in this small victory. Her sister looked like a dictator, even to some of her ‘loyal’ city-states and the Princesses had looked uncomfortable with the decision. In time, as the economic and political backlash did its work, Luna was confident more and more would join the Equestrian Republic. Oh, it wasn’t official yet, but Luna had seeded the groundwork, delivering the constitution and a working layout to Spring Dahlias and the other representatives in a secret meeting. Luna had even dropped hints on a certain mare to be appointed to office, though that mare was completely unaware of such designs… … “Sunburst,” Cadence said, not looking away from the point where the portal had been, “you’ve been in regular contact with Starlight, correct? And she has been staying in Canterlot this past week?” “Y-yes, Your Highness,” the Crystaller blinked, surprised at the question. “Has she mentioned any of this tension?” the Princess of Love turned to face her subject, seeing Shining Armor’s alert concern. “No!” Sunburst shook his head, “Well, she has mentioned all her involvement in political courses and helping draft a constitution for a republic, but I never got the impression from her letters that there was a serious division or conflict! We’re pretty isolated up here, so this is the first time I’m even hearing about any of this!” “This is bad…” Cadence murmured, “I sensed a lot of love lost between my aunts. I’m worried this could escalate.” “It won’t come to anything too bad, dear,” Shining Armor assured her, “Even if the Empresses came to blows, the Royal – I guess Imperial – Guard would never turn on itself. We’re brothers in arms!” “I hope you’re right,” Cadence looked down on Flurry Heart with worry, “This is not the environment I would want to bring our daughter up in…” … “I can’t believe Appleloosa sent you as a representative, cuz,” Big Mac said, “How long have you been here?” “Just rolled in yesterday, actually,” Braeburn sighed, “It’s a plum right mess. Sheriff Silverstar couldn’t make heads nor tails out of all this, but we worked hard to build ourselves a sovereign city-state, and none of us are too keen on the idea of bowing down to some nobles we ain’t never heard of.” “Aren’t you loyal to the Princesses, though?” Sweetie Belle asked, “Or, I guess, the Empresses?” “Well, I’ve always considered myself faithful to them,” Braeburn shrugged, feeling put on the spot. “But only when it’s convenient?” Sweetie asked, earning a glare from Apple Bloom, “What? I’m just pointing out that every pony was loyal to Celestia, but as soon as she tries to unite Equestria, half of them don’t want to follow her. It doesn’t make any sense!” “Bah, you’re just a foal,” Braeburn shook his head, “You wouldn’t understand.” “Well, I’m a stallion and I’m inclined to agree with the filly,” Flam said. “Oh, you only want to support Celestia because you’re sweet on her,” Flim rolled his eyes, “I support free enterprise, and so I support these republic fellows. They seem to appreciate entrepreneurs such as ourselves!” “I thought we agreed not to limit ourselves?” Flam pulled his brother aside, though the rest of the group could still hear their argument. “I happen to still be interested in making bits, brother,” Flim jabbed a hoof into his twin’s chest, “and I know you do, too. You might be fine with Celestia trying to turn us into her new financial thing-a-ma-bobs, but I don’t want any part of it! This whole school thing is boring. There’s no risk, no thrill, no profit – and no peach-tone farm filly!” Big Mac raised an eyebrow at that but the twins were still oblivious that every pony could hear them. “Well, I’m not leaving Celestia’s side if I can help it!” Flam said, defiantly, “We have a good thing here, brother. We’re housed, we’re fed, and we’re being giving promising careers! Aren’t you sick of running around all over heck and creation, swindling ponies out of bits only to blow our fortunes? Don’t you think it’s time we finally build up a fortune with a purpose?” “Say it ain’t so, brother, but you’re starting to sound sedentary!” Flim gasped, “Do my ears deceive me or are you truly wanting us to settle?!” “I like it in Canterlot,” Flam blew his moustaches out, “and I’m tired of running; we’re not getting any younger! Think for a moment, Flim; would joining the republic really be profitable? Who cares if they don’t regulate business-ponies! You’ve paid attention in class, surely – you know that’s a disaster!” “My ears!” Flim covered his ears, wincing, “I think they’re bleeding!” “Oh, don’t be so melodramatic!” Flam shook his head, “Forget it! Go off and join those starry-eyed dreamers, but when they fall flat on their face, don’t come crying to me!” “And that goes double for you!” Flim retorted. “Yeesh, is this going to happen with all of you?” Scootaloo asked, noticing that Flam and Sweetie Belle had unconsciously grouped closer together, while Starlight, Flim, and the Apples had separated themselves. Only she and Spike bridged the gap, neither of them picking a side. Trixie stayed by Starlight’s side, naturally, but didn’t look interested one way or the other. “No, we can stay civil,” Starlight said, confidently, “After all, we’re all friends, right? Even if we move to the Republic – if it even forms! – or stay in the Empire, that won’t change. It’d be no different than having friends in Griffonstone or the Dragon Lands; just because we’re in a different land doesn’t mean we can’t be friends, right?” “Right…” the twins murmured, reluctantly. “Big Macintosh,” Braeburn turned towards his cousins, "Apple Bloom… I got no right asking you to get involved, but I don’t want to see our family divided over this. When the Republic is formed, will you join us?” “How do you know it will be formed?” Starlight asked. “I… I can’t say, not yet anyway,” Braeburn confessed. Secret meetings with the Empress of the Night were secret for a reason, especially when one of the subjects discussed was the pink unicorn. “What if Ponyville doesn’t join?” Apple Bloom asked. “If Ponyville joins the Empire instead,” Braeburn grimaced, “I was hoping you guys would move to Appleloosa to support the Republic.” “Leave Ponyville?!” Apple Bloom gaped, “I can’t do that! All my friends, my school… everything!” “Apple Bloom, you’ve already left all that behind,” Starlight pointed out, “All that would happen is a separation from your friends, and I’m sure you can visit each other. Of course… you would have to leave the farm…” “There’s no way I’m leaving,” Apple Bloom shook her head, wrapping her forelegs around Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle, “The Cutie Mark Crusaders will never split up, not permanently!” “My sis is right,” Big Mac said, “She can’t be expected to leave everything behind. But… I can.” Everyone turned in surprise towards the stallion except Braeburn who smiled in approval. “Big Macintosh…” Apple Bloom became teary-eyed at the prospect of her brother, who had always been a stable constant in her life, suddenly disappearing. Not for the first time she wondered if she had taken his presence for granted all her years. “Don’t fret, Apple Bloom,” Big Mac smiled, “I’ll visit often.” “I appreciate this, cuz,” Braeburn sighed in relief, then turned towards Starlight, “Would you join the Republic? They say you will, but I’ve never met you, so I don’t have a measure of your commitment yet.” “I helped draft the constitution,” Starlight said, “and I won’t participate in another dictatorship. Wait, ‘they say’? Who are ‘they’?” “Uh…” Braeburn’s pupils shrunk, “That’s not important. Anyway, I’m glad I could talk to you guys again before I left. Tell Applejack and Granny Smith I said ‘hi’.” Before Apple Bloom could open her mouth, Braeburn galloped out of there. The filly turned her eyes back on Starlight in curiosity, but the unicorn was just as confused as she was. Big Mac made a move to talk to her, but she turned away from him, too angry to deal with him at that moment. “Come on, girls,” she muttered, “we have class.” Scootaloo opened her mouth to point out they still had an hour before classes started, but Sweetie Belle stopped her, so the fillies simply filed out in silence. Flim and Flam glared at one another sullenly, deciding to follow the fillies. “I think every pony’s taking it pretty well,” Trixie said with a weak smile, trying to break the tension. “Yeah,” Spike muttered, looking at the ceiling of the castle’s halls, “…every pony.” … “Oh, why hello there, Twilight!” Rarity smiled while answering the door, “We were just about to invite you on a day out on the town.” “We?” the Princess of Friendship briefly forgot her dilemma to look past the fashionista and see Rainbow Dash waving back. “Yes, Rainbow Dash came by for a visit and we agreed it would be a good idea to get you away from your books and Applejack away from her farm for a little bit,” Rarity offered a sad smile, “You are both quite lonely these days.” “That…” Twilight hesitated. It’d be easier to explain if she had all her friends together, so she forced a smile. “Actually, we should get the others; I have something important to tell all of you.” “Pinkie Pie is hanging out with her sister at Sweet Apple Orchard,” Rainbow Dash explained, “We were going to meet up at the castle, but I guess we can head over there. I’m not sure where Fluttershy is.” “Fluttershy won’t be joining us,” Twilight scowled, “I’ll explain when we’re all together. Rainbow Dash, can you get them to meet us in the town hall? I need to make an announcement to my subjects.” Rainbow Dash and Rarity exchanged concerned looks, but the pegasus agreed and flew off to accomplish her task, sensing the urgency of the situation. The unicorn followed the Princess to town hall, waiting as Twilight explained the Mayor Mare and her assistants how dire the situation was. Without giving anything away, she convinced them to set about getting the word out. Within the hour, most of town arrived in the square before the town hall, her friends included. Twilight took the stage, Mayor Mare behind and to her side. “Citizens of Ponyville,” Twilight decreed in her Royal Voice, “The Princesses have united the various pony city-states into the Equestrian Empire and crowned themselves the Empresses. Changes in government will have to be made, but I want you to know that your day-to-day lives will be unchanged.” The crowd erupted into confused murmuring and furious glares. Twilight saw every range of reactions. Some ponies were surprised, thinking the prospect of unification as unlikely, not believing the rumors that had been circulating. The vast majority, however, were split between smug sneers of accomplishment or bitter glares of resentment. Bon-Bon was an exception, being a known Celestia supporter and yet accepting the birth of the Empire as if it were just another moment of little consequence. Octavia smirked at her roommate, who only looked away in disgust. Some, like the Cakes, were worried at the rising tension. Others, like Dr. Hooves and Derpy, simply moved on, taking it all in stride. Now came the hard part, Twilight realized. “I should also mention that there’s a faction of city-states attempting to create a republic,” the Princess explained, “and they will likely accept any pony who wishes to join. I would encourage you all to stay loyal to the Empresses, but I can’t stop you if you want to leave… I’m confident that both groups – Republic and Empire – will stay peaceful and allow an exchange of citizens and goods, so it shouldn’t be too inconvenient.” “Why isn’t Ponyville joining the Republic?” Vinyl Scratch demanded, her question met with a chorus of similar questions. “Because I’ve decided it’s best to stay loyal to Celestia and to Equestria,” Twilight snorted. What a silly question. “Mayor Mare leads Ponyville,” Cranky Doodle pointed out, “You’re the Princess of Friendship, not Ponyville.” “The Princesses rule Equestria,” Twilight frowned, “I mean, that is what the title implies, isn’t it?” “I say that’s for Mayor Mare to decide!” another pony cried out, and dozens more shouted agreement. “Princess, if you wouldn’t mind?” the Mayor whispered. Twilight moved closer, listening to her quiet words. “Ponyville isn’t like most other city-states, as you know. We had a tradition of elected offices and ponies having a voice in government before you came here, but we’re also loyal to the Princesses…” “Empresses,” Twilight corrected. “Ah, yes, right,” Mayor Mare giggled, “We’re loyal, make no mistake, and you are a Princess whose castle is in Ponyville. Technically, Ponyville falls to you, but if you ignore our tradition of more active leadership by the ponies in government, well… the citizens will be restless. I recommend you declare Ponvyille as a neutral city-state – a bridge between the two extremes. You are the Princess of Friendship, and from what I know of the situation, most of those in favor of starting a Republic are west of us…” “I… suppose that could work,” Twilight grimaced. She saw the logic, but allowing Ponvyille to not be loyal to the Empire felt like a betrayal against Celestia, “I guess I don’t want my subjects being unhappy or trying to revolt. Alright, we’ll try it.” Forcing a smile on her face, Twilight returned to her subjects who were now divided into their two camps. “Ponyville will stay neutral!” The two camps eyed the Princess in surprise, then each other in confusion. The republic-supporters seemed disgruntled, but their anger was subdued; the empire-supporters looked disappointed. Bon-Bon seemed annoyed, but accepting. Twilight wondered if every pony hated compromises. Then again, she’d rather have every pony slightly disappointed then one side feeling horribly wronged. The crowds dispersed after a time of asking questions the Princess had no answers to, and soon it was only Twilight and her friends again. “Well, that was a lot to take in…” Rarity muttered. “Yeah, I feel like a balloon that’s been stretched almost to popping!” Pinkie Pie clutched her head in her hooves, “Now I feel like all that air’s been let out. What a bummer!” “It’ll get better,” Twilight lied. At least, it felt like a lie to her. “Twilight,” Rainbow Dash said, all seriousness, “where’s Fluttershy?” Her friends all turned their eyes on her and the Princess felt herself tense. Slowly, she told them about the pegasus’ bid for sovereignty… … Despite all the drama of the day, and the canceling of classes, Luna had been kind enough to keep her Monday magic course open. Trixie pranced in place, even more excited than Starlight to get started. Flim and Flam had reluctantly showed up, but eyed each other with disdain. Starlight was pleasantly surprised to see Spike join them, though she couldn’t fathom why he’d attend. Before she could ask, the Empress of the Night entered the courtyard where she had ordered them to meet. “Good evening, students,” she greeted, her pleasant attitude quite at odds with the poorly-hidden anger Celestia had been strutting around with over the last week, “It astounds me how far we’ve come in such a short time. This is my first time teaching you on a Monday, yet it feels as if you have been here for months!” “It’s… certainly been eventful,” Starlight offered a weak grin. “It has indeed,” Luna smiled knowingly at the unicorn, though she couldn’t fathom why, “But let us not worry about politics for tonight. Spike, I am glad you’ve shown up. I can’t teach you anything about what you wanted to learn.” “Oh…” the dragon looked crestfallen, but not particularly surprised. “However, I did find this old book in my personal collection,” Luna smiled as she brought a book out of a collection she had brought with her and levitated it into his hands, “It’s in Old Ponish, but it’s a collection of old legends Starswirl’s mentor compiled when exploring the Dragon Lands.” “…There’s some pony older than Starswirl?” Spike asked. Mustn’t laugh… Luna strained herself. “Indeed!” the Empress managed to say with a straight face, “Of course, this was but one of several mentors. Pity what happened to him.” “What happened?” Sweetie Belle asked. “Burnt to a crisp,” Luna explained, casually, “Fortunately, that journal survives, a wonderful written record about dragon cultural legends. I want you to have it, Spike.” “I-I can’t just take this from you!” the dragon blushed in embarrassment, “I can’t even read Old Ponish very well.” “’Very well’?” Sweetie repeated, “Wait, you can read Old Ponish?” “Hardly,” Spike rubbed the back of his head. “He’s being modest,” Starlight giggled, “He used to help Twilight and me translate old works.” “Either way, you have more right to the book than any other creature in Ponyville,” Luna explained, “You are the only dragon who lives amongst our kind, and beyond a few scholars, there are no ponies with any interest in dragon legends. Even if you never read it, it would serve a greater purpose in your possession than sitting on a forgotten shelf in our library.” “I…” Spike blushed, then bowed deeply, “Thank you, Empress Luna.” “Please, don’t call me that,” Luna frowned, “All of you may call me Luna, if you wish.” “I thought we had to refer to our instructors by their titles when in a classroom setting?” Flim asked. “Normally that would not trouble me,” Luna sighed, “but I detest the title Empress, and my sister has revoked our titles as Princesses. Until I have a title I can respect, just Luna will do. Now, let us begin. Trixie?” The blue unicorn blinked in surprise, having stayed silent and tense the entire time. “Y-yes Princ- Emp- uh, Luna?” Trixie asked, visibly shaking. “I have a good feeling about you for this kind of magic,” the Empress of the Night smiled, “for we shall be learning illusion magic.” “I-illusion magic?” Trixie’s anxiety slowly became overridden with awe. “Indeed,” Luna said, before eyeing Flam, “By any chance did my sister spend some time with you yesterday?” “No,” Flam was taken by surprise. “I knew she’d chicken out,” the alicorn muttered, “No matter! Look here, my little ponies, for this is an apple.” Luna levitated a bright red apple before them. In an instant it became an orange and the students gasped. Somewhere in the castle, Apple Bloom’s ear twitched and she furrowed her brow. Dark magic was afoot against apples; she could just feel it. Back in the courtyard, Luna turned the apple into a variety of other objects. “You can change apples into oranges?!” Trixie gaped. “You can turn them into teacups, so why are you surprised?” Starlight asked. “Because no pony can turn apples into oranges!” Trixie scoffed, “It’s impossible!” Starlight opened her mouth, thought better of it, and closed it again. “I did not perform a miracle, I assure you,” Luna giggled, “I have simply cast an illusion spell on the object, making it appear as something else.” Luna explained the process in detail, and all the unicorns aside from Starlight were relieved at how simple it was. The ex-Princess placed a wooden block in front of each of them and let them go at it. She was pleased to see that Sweetie Belle’s rumored ineptitude for magic was greatly exaggerated – either that, or the filly had improved her abilities. Where Sweetie pulled off the trick with little strain, the twins struggled and got flustered, but Luna patiently walked them through it again until they got it right. Luna raised an eyebrow at the objects they had created: Flim had produced an apple, Flam a tiara. Moving onto Trixie, she saw the unicorn succeed in making the block look like a pink teacup. “That’s very good, Trixie,” Luna beamed, “Now, every pony try and make the item look like something else.” Starlight had absolutely no problem, getting bored with the simple spell and absentmindedly making the wooden block look like Twilight, Sunburst, Discord, and any pony else who came to mind. Sweetie succeeded in making her block look like her sister, which impressed Luna; the alicorn had assumed only Starlight had the skill to make a pony-sized illusion. The twins tried to make their blocks look like ponies too, but failing this they settled for plushies. Luna smirked at the Applejack and Celestia plushies, and at the heavy blushes on the abashed twins’ faces. Moving onto Trixie, Luna waited patiently but began to look concerned as she saw Trixie, teary-eyed, turn the wooden block into a teacup over and over again. “Trixie, are you alright?” Luna asked. “O-of course!” Trixie lied, sniffling, “I-I just need a moment to… concentrate.” “Take your time, dear,” Luna smiled. She noticed the magician had dropped her use of third-person… Trixie blinked at being called dear. Aside from Rarity and Discord’s attempts at being polite, she hadn’t heard anyone call her such in a long time. The magician inhaled to steady her breathing, then repositioned her stance. She waited for the moment when her mind was clear, struggling to suppress old memories. Rather than suppress them, she surrendered to them, letting old aches float through her. Without realizing it, she had made the wooden block look like a mare, the sight of which made her throat tighten up. “Who is that?” Starlight asked, wondering why the mare was making Trixie react so. Whoever it was, she was pretty: orange coat, blonde hair, and a curious sunflower Cutie Mark. Her best quality, though, was the encouraging, loving smile on her face. In an instant, the illusion dissipated and Trixie stood there, paler than Starlight had seen her in a long time. “Trixie, are you alright?” “What?” the magician blinked and shook her head, “Of course Trixie is alright! Why wouldn’t she be? She is simply… surprised she pulled off the magic trick so well.” “You did a most exemplary job,” Luna agreed, “You should be proud of yourself. I think this has been enough for magic lessons tonight; practice this often and I am certain you will have it mastered by next week.” The unicorns exchanged looks of surprise; the lesson had only lasted thirty minutes and had been relatively simple, but they all knew it was for Trixie’s benefit. The magician still looked strained, but no pony was going to press it. Luna put a comforting hoof on Trixie’s shoulder before departing. The twins and Sweetie Belle likewise left, and soon only Spike and Starlight were left in the courtyard with the blue unicorn. “Who was she, Trix?” Spike asked. The unicorn stayed silent, so he grimaced. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked such a personal-” “My mom,” the magician interrupted, watching the stars. “You’ve never talked about her,” Starlight noted, “Or your dad, come to think of it.” “Let’s just say…” the unicorn sighed, “Trixie’s been avoiding them for some time.” “Because you used to do some bad stuff?” Spike asked, “You’re friends and students with the Princesses! I’m sure they’d be impressed with you, not ashamed.” “Trixie has not seen her mother for several years, not since she was a filly,” Trixie explained, still stargazing, “and her father rarely showed up even then.” “How… did you and your mother get separated when you were just a filly?” Starlight asked, afraid of the answer. Trixie hesitated, but figured she could confide in her best friend. And Spike, too, of course. The dragon had become almost a packaged deal with Starlight. “Trixie was accepted to Princess Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns when she was a filly,” she explained, “Her mother dropped her off. I was so nervous, biting on my hoof like a fool!” the magician chuckled at the memory, but her mirth faded, “Mom always told me ‘Trixie, one day you will be great and powerful. You just need to believe in yourself.’ When I failed my entrance exam, I couldn’t bring myself to face her, and… Well, Trixie has not seen her since.” “Trixie…” Starlight put a comforting hoof on her friend’s shoulder. Trixie looked into her face with a grateful smile, but it faded at the anger on Starlight’s face. “How could you leave you poor mother all worried like that?!” “Trixie was just a filly!” the magician frowned, “She wasn’t thinking… Trixie was very selfish back then, and by the time she met you and became a better pony, well… She feels like her mother wouldn’t want to see her.” “Surely a mother would want to see their missing child again, right?” Spike asked, half-talking to himself. Trixie felt shame flush her cheeks. “Trixie is not even sure where to look…” Starlight sighed and shook her head before smiling and wrapping the magician and the dragon into a group hug. “As soon as we have a break in classes, I’ll help you look for her,” she promised. “And don’t pretend you don’t want to,” Spike chuckled, “or that she doesn’t want to see you. We’re doing this, Trix. Even if it takes years!” “Alright, alright!” Trixie snorted, but was blushing, “You’ve worn down the sad and sulking Trixie! Now, can we go? Trixie needs her beauty sleep.” Starlight relinquished them and they retired to their rooms. Lying down to sleep, Starlight wondered if the republican city-states would really go through with their secession or not. She was still trying to wrap her mind around being under a dictator, but realistically, wasn’t that her whole life? Celestia and Luna weren’t bad rulers, so why should she feel bad? Still, the idea of living under an Empire made her feel sickened. Maybe she’d feel better in the morning.