//------------------------------//
// A perfect outcome? 
// Story: Lies, Damn Lies, and Statistics 
// by kudzuhaiku 
//------------------------------//

The nearly deserted beach was silent, save for the cries of seabirds and the soft lapping of waves against the pale white sand. Shining Armor stood in a dramatic pose, his mane and tail windswept, his ears waving in the tropical breeze. Nearby, a trio of alicorns stood watching him, each of them solemn. Three stood as one, united, together, with the lone unicorn as the outsider. Unable to look back at them, Shining Armor kept his eyes focused on the distant ships on the horizon.

So much had been said.

So little had been said by him.

So much could be learned by listening.

A paddlewheel steamer ship in the distance blew its horn and Shining Armor thought for a moment of how some things were built to last. The paddlewheel steamer certainly was; ships of that design hadn’t been manufactured for almost a half-century. Newer, more efficient models had replaced it, yet this old vessel steamed on, and would continue to do so for a long time, no doubt.

As a unicorn, he was a tough nut to crack. His magic shields were now part of storied legend. But he was not built to last, not like Cadance was. He and his daughters had one thing in common, but it offered only cold comfort; they would all die of old age. Cadance, Celestia’s most successful animancy project yet, held a sliver of Celestia’s immortal soul. When he and Cadance had merged tiny slivers of their souls together to make Flurry and Skyla, this immortality had not been passed along—but it could be. Animancy, the magic of souls, was a great mystery to Shining Armor, and trying to understand even the most basic concepts left him with a headache.

What good was unicorn pride exactly, if it impaired his ability to be a good father? Was his pride more important than his duty? Though he had many reasons, his public declaration had the weight of truth to it; the common unicorn could make a difference. He had tried to rally his tribe to do more, because he expected more—demanded more. Though he had never given voice to it, Shining Armor envisioned himself as something of a leader for his tribe. Rather than lead with talk and so many pretty words, he led by example, striving and struggling to hold himself to the highest possible standards, and then pushing himself just a little bit beyond that.

Shining Armor was envious of Gosling’s revitalisation of the pegasus tribe and the restoration of pegasus pride. Together, with the help of Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy, Gosling had reminded the entire pegasus pony nation that they had two known champions, two Elements of Harmony; Kindness, and Loyalty. After the Day of Insurrection in Cloudsdale, Gosling had steered the course of the pegasus tribe back into goodness using nothing but words, actions, and example.

Equestria was full of unicorns, but much to Shining Armor’s dismay, the many wakeup calls went unheeded. Sure, there were some fine individual examples, but as a whole, as a tribe, it seemed as though the unicorns were content with mediocrity, something that frustrated him to no end. If anything, unicorns bore the stigma of secret shame, for many had left Equestria in search of Grogar, lured away with promises of power.

As he stared at the horizon, Shining Armor came to the conclusion that he had done as much as he could as a unicorn, and that if he wanted to do more then drastic measures had to be taken. He needed to somehow be a better unicorn. Had he really reached the end of his unicorn potential? Could he do more for unicorns and ponykind—or, indeed, the world—if he were an alicorn?

Was he held back by his own pride?

“This feels like a defeat,” he said aloud to his family. Reconsidering, he shook his head, took a deep breath, and turned to face them. “Or maybe my own limited perspective holds me back from seeing the truth about all of this. What you said in the aquarium really rattled me, Cadance. That bit about me understanding and being angry about this not being done sooner. I am aware that there is a bigger world than what I am capable of seeing. This makes me feel small.”

The trio of alicorns said nothing, but stood there, looking sad and somehow wise.

“We unicorns have a rough go of things,” he continued. “Earth ponies are practically born knowing what they need to do. I’ve talked with Maud Pie and we’re… well, I guess you could call us pen-pals. She’s always given me sensible advice. To be truthful, I’m not even sure how this friendship started. We were both in the same place at the same time at just the right moment. Funny huh?”

Still, the alicorns were silent.

“Pegasus ponies have to learn how to fly, and their potential is unlocked. It’s not hard. Flight camp is relatively easy.” Dropping his head, Shining Armor stared down at the sand. “But being a unicorn… magic is complicated. Schooling starts as early as equinely possible and continues for a lifetime, potentially. Education is expensive and tutors are hard to find. This isn’t like learning how to play the piano or the flugelhorn. Magic schools only have so many desks available. The really good ones remain good by keeping the number of students they accept low so that the teachers actually have a chance to teach. We’re a tribe that fails to see its own potential. So many of us go uneducated. So much potential talent is wasted, left unnoticed in the vast urban sprawls of our big cities. We can barely operate public schools as it is, much less magical academies. Earth ponies and pegasus ponies balk at the idea of paying increased taxes for special unicorn schools, and this, of course, is understandable.”

He tried to lift his gaze, and found that he couldn’t. “Cadance”—he shook his head from side to side while a long pause manifested and his thoughts coalesced—“I’ve seen my own lies, damn lies, and statistics. They are bewildering, terrifying, paralysing… and I can’t even begin to see a solution. I wish I hadn’t been so hard on you for yours, given how I live in fear of my own. Sometimes, I live in denial of them. I’ve seen the numbers, Cadance. There is a huge problem with no apparent solutions. It is a problem that is only going to get worse and worse as the population grows. More and more unicorns will be resigned to something less than mediocrity. I’ve stared down the uselessness of my own tribe… we’ve been defeated by our own complexity.”

“So you cling to your own unicornhood to be a shining example. A beacon.” Cadance’s voice was almost gentle thunder, a powerful, commanding voice that radiated immense authority. “You stand defiant in the face of impossible, overwhelming odds, and for this, all of us admire you.”

Again, he shook his head. “What good is this futile struggle and my stubborn refusal to change if it holds me back from being a better father? I’m more than a unicorn, I’m also a dad. A father. Now I am in the position where I see… no, I know I could be doing more. I could be a better example to all. That’s the trouble with armor; it is rigid and inflexible, hard and unyielding. Celestia warned me… she told me to be careful about living up to my namesake.”

“And this is why you strive for compromise?” Cadance asked.

In response, Shining Armor nodded.

“Shiny”—Cadance’s soft, gentle thunder caused her husband’s ears to twitch—“have you considered the example that you offer right now?”

“What do you mean?”

“You are a unicorn that has lived up to his fullest possible potential. More than that, a pony, if you set tribe aside. You stand upon the very cusp of greatness, the precipice of illustriousness… you could be one of the great and shining lights in the world… but you refuse to budge. For all of your accomplishment, for all of your achievements, of which there have been many, you refuse to take your well-deserved reward and then go even further.”

“But I…” The words died in his throat and Shining Armor, though he made a valiant effort, could not refute what his wife had said.

“Does the world not need a fine of example of accepting the consequences of living up to your potential? Look at Sunburst and all of the great good that he does. There is a pony who lives up to his potential and then pushes himself beyond what he is capable of when the situation demands. Did he not take to the field of battle when the ice orcs invaded? Ultimately, that choice was his, and he made it. He did not refuse the call when it came.”

Sighing, Shining Armor listened, his heart heavy and his senses dull.

“Little Sumac, a pony with such humble aspirations, he’s rejected a position of royal rule. But when Flurry, his friend was in danger, and the Crystal Empire needed him, did he not act like a prince? He stood up to his own mothers and bravely defied them. When the call came, when the situation demanded it, the most fragile and weakest of we alicorns thrust himself into danger. He even risked the wrath of Princess Celestia with his bold and cunning plan, doing something that he knew that she would not approve of. Little Sumac stuck his neck out and risked the axe falling upon it.”

“Forget about all of that,” he said to his wife, whilst he struggled to keep his many thoughts in check. “For right now, my primary concern is being a better father. Look… let’s come right out and face it; I am not the best father. I can’t be. As Emperor, I have a ton of duties. My work takes me away from home for months at a time. I am absolutely riddled with guilt sometimes because I feel like—no, I know there are times when I fail my girls. And now, I have this chance to make things right—no, not right, but maybe better. Everything else can fall where it may.”

“That is not a good reason to do this,” Cadance said to her husband. “This decision should be more than that. For better reasons.”

“I am but a simple unicorn, and this is all my perspective has to offer,” he replied. As the last word left his mouth, he saw a flash of anger in his wife’s eyes. Though he felt a twinge of regret, he did not apologise, but he did think about armor being rigid and inflexible. “Look, just do it. Sort me out. Fix me. That’s what this all comes down to, doesn’t it? Twilight never even got the choice and I suppose you didn’t either. Maybe it’s better if the choice is never offered. I don’t want to turn my whole life upside down trying to adapt to a new body with new perspectives and new abilities, but that is unicorn me. Maybe alicorn me will look back at unicorn me and think, ‘hey, that pony is an idiot.’ Maybe once I’m past this point I’ll finally understand and everything will be okay again.”

“Shining Armor—”

“Don’t you ‘Shining Armor’ me,” he said, interrupting and pointing his hoof. ‘Ultimately, it doesn’t matter what reason I make this decision for, or if I make the decision at all, really. Once I’m like you, none of this will matter for me. I’m dying, Cadance. That’s how it is. Unicorn me is dying and I’m going through those five phases of grief. When this was first proposed that I give up my unicornhood and become an alicorn, I denied it flat out.”

When Cadance had nothing to say, he continued, “And then I was angry about it for a long time. I was. Trust me. I never showed it, but I fumed about it. I didn’t want this choice. I didn’t need this complication thrown into my life. I resented all of you for dumping this on me. I had to come up with reasons why I said no so I wouldn’t look like a selfish prick, because I’m the darned Emperor and I’m not allowed to be selfish.”

Flurry shuffled her hooves in the sand and leaned up against her mother’s leg. Squirming, Skyla did the same, and she gave her little wings a sad shake. The two fillies took a moment to look at one another, but remained silent. Reaching out her wings, Cadance stroked her daughters and tried to comfort them.

“I tried bargaining with myself, telling myself I would deal with this later, once my schedule cleared. Once I had certain things done. When certain goals were met. But I kept adding things to my to-do list and new goals presented themselves like magic. I got stuck here for quite a while, and then I went back to anger, because anger felt better and motivated me to work even harder so I could ignore all of this even more.”

His wife’s silence was palpable and left Shining Armor with a feeling of discomfort. “After all of the bargaining and telling myself that I’d do this once my daughters were grown up and I had less to do, I was depressed. And I don’t mean a little depressed, I mean I was really, really depressed, because I knew I was only delaying the problem. I had made it Future Me’s problem, and I felt just awful for tossing it off on Future Me. I’m even more depressed right now because all of this could have been avoided if what was best for me had been just done for me. The girls don’t get a choice when it comes time for them to get their shots. We do what is necessary for them and they don’t get a say in the matter. We just hold them down and stick them and we deal with the consequences as best we can.”

Reaching out one wing, Flurry Heart began to rub her bottom with a thoughtful, pained expression.

“So this is my acceptance. Just do it, okay? Get it over with. Stop drawing it out. A mistake was made in giving me a choice. It’s messed up my whole life. So fix it. Just… do it.”

The trio of alicorns all looked at one another, as if trying to reach some silent consensus. Shining Armor tried to control his breathing, because his barrel felt tight, as if some invisible force was crushing it. With some minor sense of amusement—an odd, but not unwelcome thing, given his situation—he realised that he had fallen back on what he knew as a parent to help make his point. As a unicorn, he wasn’t in a good place to make decisions for himself, just like his daughters were in no position to make choices such as saying no to shots. He had fallen back on what he knew, and there was a curious sense of pride for having done so.

He smiled, a warm, genuine smile; acceptance felt good.

“As Cadance, I am hesitant.” The pink alicorn cleared her throat. “As an alicorn, I am certain. As your wife, I have some reservations about all of this. But as an alicorn, I am relieved that you have come to your senses. I must confess, this troubles me more than I’d care to admit. I know what should be done… what is necessary… but there is a part of me that expresses grief at the idea of the unicorn that I’ve come to know and love dying. Your choice of words has left me shaken, Shiny.”

“Is this denial?” he asked. Seeing his wife’s response, the way her face darkened, his smile became more of a smirk. “Is that anger I see?”

“Shining Armor, I demand that you take this with some seriousness. I spoke from my heart.”

“Bargaining.” When he said this word, he saw Cadance bite her lip, and both of his daughters appeared confused. He sighed, feeling bad for reasons he could not comprehend. He was almost certain that Cadance was indeed, depressed, but he could not bring himself to say anything about it. She had backed him into a corner and now, all of this was the end result.

Unicorn Shining Armor was putting up a fight, pointless as it might be.

“Come now, Cadance. We can’t let our feelings as ponies trip us up and prevent us from doing what needs to be done.” He made a broad, expansive gesture with his foreleg at the world around him and thought of one more thing to say. “Let’s set an example for our girls, Cadance. We both know what needs to be done. Our feelings make it messy, and it is unpleasant, sure, but that doesn’t change the fact that it is necessary. If we turn away from this now, what are we teaching them? So come on… let’s get this over with. I know that Celestia has taught you what to do. All of you have been waiting patiently for this moment to arrive.”

In his wife’s eyes, Shining Armor saw sadness, but also grim determination.

“Skyla?” Cadance turned her eyes down to her youngest daughter.

“I feel bad,” Skyla whispered to her mother, “but this feels right. My alicorn instincts tell me that there is only one way to make this better.”

“Flurry?” Cadance turned her head and looked down at her oldest.

“Don’t you dare ask me.” Flurry sounded angry and her eyes were turbulent, even stormy. “My alicorn instincts tell me to smash face and lay waste. Mom, we both know that Skyla was meant to rule and I was meant to see her rule enforced. Do whatever.”

The smirk on Shining Armor’s face vanished. Something about what Flurry had said and her resignation left him with a curious feeling, something he could not identify. His first instinct was to feel bad for Flurry, but thinking about it, was this the beginning of acceptance? Was she—would she settle into her role? Her destiny? Or would Flurry, the Storm Princess, always be a tempest in a teapot? Excitabat fluctus in simpulo? Something about Flurry’s attitude left him hopeful.

Stepping away from her daughters, Cadance approached. Shining Armor’s belly was suddenly damp with sweat, as was the underside of his dock. Each step that Cadance took filled him with abstract terror. His end approached. Soon, he would be undone and whatever he once was would be no more. Something else would replace him.

“Will this hurt?” he asked. Mouth dry, his belly now soaked, he licked his lips, nervous.

“No, Shiny. Why would it hurt?”

“Uh, sprouting wings. New flesh. New bones. Sounds painful.”

“The body changes to mirror the soul,” Cadance said to her husband. Her words held a princessly calm but her body showed evidence of her turmoil. Ears twitched. Her folded wings flapped against her sides. Her tail whipped around her hind legs, restless. “Now, Shiny… take a deep breath, and cast aside your worry, fear, and doubt.”

Doing as his wife requested, Shining Armor drew in a deep breath…





When he exhaled, a grey featureless expanse surrounded him. There was light here, but he couldn’t tell where it was coming from. It came from everywhere and nowhere all at once. Cadance was a brilliant, luminous being of incredible beauty, somehow capable of floating without flapping her wings.

They were not alone. A paper pony sat upon the grey expanse that was almost—but not quite—like clouds beneath him, and she was watching floating moving pictures, movies projected upon nothing. Shining Armor tried to view the moving images, to take in their meaning, but all of them changed, with each of them now showing scenes from his life. Both his accomplishments—and his failures.

The paper pony’s horn glowed and a massive book popped into existence in front of her face. Said book had his cutie mark on the cover and looking directly at it made his vision fuzz over. Perhaps even more curious, the paper pony held a terrible familiarity, but try as he might, he could not put his hoof upon her identity. It was most certainly a she though. She opened the book and appeared to be reading something with great interest.

With her every movement, the paper alicorn crinkled.

“And so, Shining Armor took the vacation that would end his life as he knew it.” The paper pony shook her head, her voice familiar, and Cadance let go with a soft, musical laugh that echoed through the surrounding nothingness.

“Do I know you?” he asked, intrigued by what he saw.

“Not yet,” the paper pony replied with a magnificent smirk. “But give it a few moments and a new pair of eyes, and you will know me. I am the star that will forever sparkle, I Am the Light of Friendship.”

When Shining Armor tried to say the name that came to mind, he found that he couldn’t. Most curious, most curious indeed. Cadance’s wings touched his neck and he felt something being tugged from him. It wasn’t unpleasant, but it was weird. Something was drawn out from him and it took him a moment to realise that he was looking at his own soul.

“You know, Cadance… there is another way,” the paper pony said and this caused the pink alicorn to pause.

“Another way?” Cadance, who held Shining Armor’s soul between her graceful primary feathers took a moment to peer in the direction of the peculiar paper pony. “What do you mean, another way? Do explain.”

“He is to be the light that will forever shine, The Light of Virtue. That part is written in Ink. But there is room for compromise. It is in his nature to compromise on what he can, part of his Virtue. We should allow for that.”

“Compromise?” Shining Armor tried to ignore the curious sensation caused by having his soul outside of his body.

“Speak then, Librarian, so that we might know.” Cadance, still holding her husband’s soul, waited.

“Graft a fragment of your soul with his. Give him time and perspective. He’ll need that for the trials to come. But with that, give him what he craves. It is possible for him to remain a unicorn—at least, for a time. He can be the Light of Virtue… the great example to unicorns.”

Shining Armor felt a dreadful temptation, at least, for a time, but then the wrongness struck him. Why hold himself back? Why be an example to only one tribe? What ruler would only understand one third of his subjects? This compromise felt dangerous, wrong even, and turning his head, he looked down at his own soul, held between Cadance’s wings. No—no, this compromise sounded dreadful and held the portent of wrongdoing.

What he said surprised him: “No. No compromises. No half measures. This is too important. Too meaningful. It stinks of tribalism.”

“The final test is passed,” the paper pony said, sighing out the words. “Of course his virtue would hold him steadfast. I never doubted it for a second. Continue, Cadance, for he is worthy. Do as you will.”

“Librarian?” Cadance blinked a few times, clearly confused.

“Oh fine,” the paper pony said, sighing out her words in an exasperated huff. “Look, I tried to reassure you, Cadance. A part of you still hesitates. You hold back. I made up a little meaningless test to help reassure you and ease your mind. But keep in mind, this is your test.” Smiling, the paper pony pointed to a floating image projection that showed Celestia’s smiling, expectant face. “Can the foalsitter complete her animancy homework? Questions, questions. You know, as a filly, I can remember doing your homework so you and my brother could do what you and he liked to do in his room.”

Cadance sucked in a sharp inhale and then: “Uh—”

“I have the book right here, Cadance. Well secluded, I see all.”

With a furious pink blush, Cadance set about her task and with a look of intense concentration, she began reshaping her husband’s soul while the paper pony watched with relaxed interest. Shining Armor was treated to the rare sight of seeing one’s soul being reshaped like clay. Bewildered, overwhelmed, he couldn’t think of what to say, nor did he wish to disturb his wife while she was doing something as important as reshaping his soul. Then, using her wings, Cadance pushed her husband’s soul back into his body. He was overcome with the most curious of sensations as his mind and body began their great change.

But perhaps most important of all, as he underwent the change, as his eyes and mind opened to new possibilities, Shining Armor began to understand; almost right away, he started to regret the time that had been wasted…