When Heavens Divide

by Mediocre Morsov

17

Luna exited the realm of dreams with a smirk. When she woke from her own sleep, the world would be forever changed. Celestia would see just how many ponies disapproved of her imperialist vision, and then she’d ultimately shed her ambitions and embrace democracy! At least, that is what she hoped. There was no need for needless suffering.

Luna felt a familiar presence reaching into her mind and spun around, searching the shadows cast by dawn’s light in panic. Sweat ran down her face. For a moment, she had sensed something all too familiar, something that had haunted her dreams, her mind, and her very soul for centuries. Searching with all her power, she could not find the entity. It had always been lurking, hiding, lying in wait; a constant threat that could ensnare any unsuspecting pony and kept at bay only by great effort on Luna’s part.

With a shudder the alicorn realized how lax she had grown in her duties regarding defense. Most of the monsters of the realm had been vanquished, but this enemy was eternal – forever part of her, yet capable of infecting others. Her vigilance had faltered, and ponies could suffer as a result. Luna slowly felt her confidence return as she realized the Nightmare had passed, returned to whatever hole it slithered out of.

She chuckled to herself, though it was taut with anxiety.

Today would be a day of victory; not a day to jump at shadows.

Celestia crumpled the letter Gutsy Gust had been elected to deliver her. She spared a withering glare at the stallion as if it were his fault, and even his usual stoicism eroded beneath it. Sighing, she vented her exasperation at the political climate. So what if the city-states were going to vote to secede or not? It was their right, wasn’t it?

Where does it say that, though?

The thought had come unbidden to her mind. Government in the realms of ponies had forever been a tricky business, always vague and unsure. There was no universal law code – though Celestia had begun working on one more than once – and there was no overarching constitution until she and Luna had made one. Or rather, two. There was no guarantee of rights, only the unquestioned reign of the godlike alicorn princesses. Princesses who earned their titles, despite the misconception many had they were born into it.

Celestia furrowed her brow at Flurry Heart, that adorable oddity.

Don’t get distracted, her mind whispered, your nation is crumbling from dissidents.

Celestia snorted at the word. Dissidents? She had let ponies move about and settle their own lands in the past, hadn’t she? Was that dissidence?

Of course not, her thoughts assured her, that was with your sanction.

That was true enough. Perhaps… perhaps she should make some sort of final announcement before they voted, to help them see the light. Despite their fears of nationalizing, even the democratic upstarts viewed her with great respect and reverence. They trusted her; one thousand years of peace and security would do that, after all.

Celestia might have lacked Luna’s dream magic and the capacity to enter into the hidden world of dreams, but she was one of the most powerful sorceresses in the entire world, and had more than a millennium of studying powerful spells behind her. A little brain-wracking, and she found a spell that would get her point across. For the rest of the day she’d be drained, but that was alright. Her nobles had been all too eager to pick up much of her royal duties so she could have more time to herself, and as long as they abided by the laws she placed before them, she was happy to let them do so.

But that wasn’t quite right, was it? She was all for a hooves-off method of governing, but she still had responsibilities…

Your subjects can go a few days without you looking over their shoulder.

Celestia chuckled at her thoughts; of course they could go a little bit without her. She should trust her subjects. They weren’t foals, after all.

Gathering what she needed through her guards, Celestia prepared, perhaps, the most powerful spell she had cast in nearly an age. Harnessing her magic, she set the runes and chanted the incantation, her eyes glowing white with divine energies. With the final syllable uttered, she projected her image from the sun’s light, so her visage filled the sky wherever the sun shown. True, a good portion of pony city-states were still in darkness, but those regions were predominantly imperial anyway, and so they weren’t at risk of secession.

Thousands of ponies gasped in awe at the celestial image looking down upon them with motherly affection and grace, almost painful to look upon and yet too warm and inviting to ignore. Thousands bowed, even those who swore they had no masters. Most were moved to tears by the sight, unable to contain their emotion. Prisoners crowded to their barred windows, desperate to see their goddess whom they believed had forsaken them. Every laborer paused to watch in awe, and no overseer or boss could bring themselves to scold them, equally unable to ignore their ruler.

“Ponies of Equestria and beyond,” Celestia’s voice was carried along the wind, as if it too were a part of nature, “many of you are about to participate in an election that will shape the future of our lands and our race. Many of you will be heading to your ballot boxes on this day to decide whether or not ponykind will be united or fractured, driven by fears that the reign of the nobility and the Princesses is no longer enough.

“Before you vote, I must ask each of you to consider a few things. Do you really conceive that I might be some hidden tyrant? In over a thousand years of rule, have I done anything to make you – my subjects, my people – question me? Have I not ruled sincerely and with great care for your wellbeing? If I have failed in some way, please let me know. I do not wish to see our lands divided any more than any of you; it breaks my heart to see my subjects so displeased with my efforts, so disheartened by my rule.

“I beseech each of you to consider the impact your secession will have on our kind, how it will divide us in the face of a growing threat. I beg you to recall the period before the Princesses, before ponykind was united, when the windigos spread their icy bitterness over the world – a time when disharmony nearly killed the world. Keep these things in mind as you head to the ballots today.”

Celestia’s image faded out, leaving ponies staring at the clear autumn skies with confused expressions. Their inner turmoil reigned, their confidence in their unspent votes suddenly diminished. When had Celestia failed them as a leader? Democracy was untried on a national level, and the alicorn who endorsed it was notorious for her great betrayal and millennium-long banishment. Could such things be discounted? Was secession the right path? These newfound doubts came to mind mere hours before the time to vote arrived.

Back in Canterlot, Celestia reclined in a bed, recovering from the energy expended on her spell. She smiled to herself; if that speech failed to bring more back to her fold, then nothing would. It was short and to the point, rather how she enjoyed making her speeches. There was no need for grandiose gestures or theatrics; her mere presence was often enough to evoke awe in her subjects.

“I am… rather stunning, aren’t I?” she murmured to herself, drowsy from her drained energy.

Yes, her thoughts purred as she slipped into a nap, you are.

“Wow, you’re that far already?” Apple Bloom’s drawl snapped Spike out of his reading.

Jumping slightly and spinning on his seat in the cafeteria, he blushed at the filly in front of him, more at her closeness than anything else. His heart twisted in confusion over what exactly he was supposed to be feeling, and he felt even worse as he wondered where Starlight had been hiding. He shouldered those thoughts aside; he was dating Apple Bloom. Sort of.

“It’s a pretty interesting read, though I haven’t it made it much further than Cinder Crisp’s introductory notes,” Spike explained.

“Cinder Crisp?” Apple Bloom prompted.

“The stallion who wrote this book,” Spike explained, “Quite a prophetic name, apparently.”

Apple Bloom gagged at the image of a burnt-up pony in her mind before looking over her drake-friend’s shoulder to try and read the journal. She pouted at the fact she could only make out every tenth word; more than she had expected, but less than she had hoped for.

“Have you learned anything about your powers?” the filly asked.

“No, not really,” Spike sighed, “Being a journal, there’s not really a table of contents to work off of. Sometimes he talks about dragon biology, sometimes about culture, legends, language… he kinda goes all over the place.”

“Well, if the answers aren’t in there,” Apple Bloom nuzzled her head into Spike’s cheek, prompting him to use his claws to gently scratch her other cheek, “then you can always ask Ember. She’s the Dragon Lord! If any pony knows about dragon magic, it’ll be her.”

“Anybody,” Spike corrected.

“What?” Apple Bloom raised an eyebrow.

“Anybody, not any pony,” Spike explained, “Dragons aren’t ponies.”

“Whatever,” Apple Bloom giggled, unaware how it made Spike bristle in annoyance, “The point is, she’ll know how to help you.”

“Provided I can see her,” Spike grunted.

“Why wouldn’t you be able to see her?” Apple Bloom furrowed her brow.

“The way things are going I don’t think they’ll let me visit the Orduud…” Spike shrugged.

“That’s silly,” Apple Bloom snorted, “You’re the ambassador to the dragons! They need you, for Celestia’s sake!”

“Somehow I don’t feel they do,” the dragon sighed, closing the book. He marked his place for later reference; Cinder Crisp was getting to something called Thurdojun, whatever that was. “Isn’t it bad luck to see my filly-friend before a date, or something?”

“That’s brides and weddings, silly,” Apple Bloom giggled, knowing Spike was joking. Her cheeks blushed at the fact he called her his filly-friend, though.

“Oh yeah,” Spike chuckled, standing up. Both of the youths almost jumped back in surprise, eyes widening.

“S-Spike,” Apple Bloom scanned the dragon up and down, awed that she had to crane her neck more than a little to see his head, “You’ve grown even bigger!”

“I didn’t even notice,” the dragon looked down at the filly, stunned by his growth spurt; he must have been at least as tall as Ember, now, “I was so busy reading this journal on the way in here, I didn’t even bother to look around. Huh. I thought the walk was shorter this time around.”

“They were right,” Apple Bloom gave a goofy grin, “that is a lotta dragon.”

“Yeesh, and they say guys are bad,” Spike snorted, green-tinted smoke emitting from his nostrils, “Darn, and I just got new clothes, too. There’s no way the Boutique can get a new set made in time for tonight.”

“Aw, you were gonna dress up for our date?” Apple Bloom was touched.

“Of course,” Spike smiled, feeling some of his trepidation die away. Apple bloom was… cute. He didn’t have that allured sensation he had gotten from Rarity, or that deep-seated connection he had with Starlight, but the farm-filly was attractive in her own ways. The dragon was reminded of the idea that had pushed him to agree in the first place: perhaps he could learn to love her.

“There you two are!” Scootaloo almost dry-heaved after barreling into their group, doing a double-take at Spike, “Whoa, are you-? Never mind! Something huge just happened!”

“Something bigger than Spike?” Apple Bloom half-joked.

“The democratic city-states are supposed to vote today!” Scootaloo huffed, regaining her breath; evidently, she had come a great way at top speed to deliver the news, “Celestia used some kind of spell to be seen all over Equestria, though, and right before the vote!”

“What?!” Spike and Apple Bloom asked as one.

“What did she say?” the filly demanded.

“I just saw it,” Scootaloo had completely regained her breath, but was visibly shaken, “She basically called out all the democratic ponies as selfish, trying to rip up Equestria, and that her rule has been pretty good for the last thousand years, and that we need to be united now more than ever.”

“How dare she!” Apple Bloom hissed, having the good sense to make sure none of the abundant guards in the cafeteria heard her.

“Well, I mean, she has a point,” the pegasus chuckled, both her friends staring at her in astonishment, “What? I thought it made sense, myself. It sounded a lot better how she said it, trust me. She’s right; we should be united.”

“Isn’t freedom worth anything to you?” Spike asked, remembering the trapped feeling he had carried for most of his life.

“Of course it is!” Scootaloo shot back, then grimaced, “But Sweetie Belle might’ve been onto something when she said security was more important.”

“When was this?” Apple Bloom asked, stunned.

“When we were outside a few minutes ago,” the pegasus explained, “I rushed in here to tell you before, well… before things got crazy.”

Apple Bloom and Spike exchanged raised eyebrows of curiosity. Before they could ask for an explanation, the craziness hit the cafeteria.

“Looks like your silly little republic is falling flat on its face, traitors!” one of the Day Guard jeered at a Night Guard. Suddenly the cafeteria was divided between the two camps, though most only looked ready to intervene, not actively taking part in the argument that was unfolding.

“It’s not treason to support a democratic institution,” the Night Guard retorted, “especially when one of our leaders supports them!”

“Bah!” the Day Guard waved a hoof, dismissively, “Guards like you give the rest of us a bad name! You just sit back and let Empress Luna slip up, rather than intervening. If the Night Guard was the same a thousand years ago, I’m not surprised she fell for some demon’s tricks.”

“You dare to insult our leader?!” the Night Guard seethed, and even the most disinterested of his comrades glowered at the Day Guard.

“You don’t even use her title!” the Day Guard chortled, “Empress Luna! And you claim I disrespect her, cur?”

“I’ll bathe in your-!” the Night Guard started to charge, fangs bared, before another Night Guard landed in front of him, glowering in disapproval. The first Night Guard stopped and cowered back. “S-Sir Night Bane! My apologies, I… I lost my temper.”

“The time for honor duels is past, Private,” Night Bane said, “Besides, such effort would be wasted on this tin soldier; he knows nothing of honor, and certainly nothing of dueling.”

The Night Guard collectively snickered as the loudmouthed Day Guard took a step forward, outraged. Gutsy Gust stopped him with a wing and shook his head, which was enough to keep the Day Guard from escalating things. A great many of the Royal Guard had swapped details due to politics and now stayed silent or distant, unwilling to get in a conflict with their former comrades, so the rage slowly abated rather than grew. Within a few minutes, the cafeteria returned to functioning normally, though conversation was subdued and an obvious tension in the air.

“That was intense,” Spike noted.

“Yeah,” Scootaloo gave a mirthless chuckle, “You should have seen outside; what few republicans were here were being chewed out by imperialists, and only a handful bothered to argue back, the rest of them going into hiding all flustered. It’s like Celestia’s speech made every supporter of the republic suddenly… I don’t know.”

“Doubt themselves,” a new voice suggested, prompting the youths to turn. Spike felt his heart beat faster and drop simultaneously at Starlight Glimmer, looking full of contempt.

“Yeah, they did seem kind of self-doubting,” Scootaloo thought about it.

“It figures Celestia would pull something like this,” Starlight sighed, pointedly avoiding looking at Apple Bloom or Spike, unable to do so without crying. The youths’ cheeks were flushed in shame, though for different reasons regarding their confusing state of affairs. Starlight figured it would be better to ignore the elephant in the room and focus more on the deterioration of their would-be country. “News is cycling pretty fast; I got a letter from Sunburst about the Crystal Empire’s trepidation in a division of our kind. His views were… painfully pragmatic.”

“He’s an imp, I take it?” Apple Bloom asked.

Starlight spared her a look of surprise for the derogatory slang, but nodded.

“His reasoning is the same as most ponies,” the unicorn ground out, “They want stability and to feel safe, rather than the burden of being allowed to exercise freedoms and personal rights. It’s cowardly, but what can you do?”

“I don’t think it’s cowardly to want to be safe,” Scootaloo rolled her eyes, “Yeesh, all of you are being really mean about this. If it’s not Sweetie Belle busting my chops for wanting freedoms, it’s you guys insulting me for wanting security. I know politics is complicated, but do we really need to insult any pony – or non-pony – that isn’t in your camp?”

Spike blinked, pleasantly surprised someone had remembered to mention non-ponies without his prompting.

“Sorry, Scootaloo,” Starlight relaxed a little, “I guess we are letting this get a little away from us.”

“It’s just that we want ponies on our side,” Apple Bloom explained, “A republic can only work with the ponies’ support.”

“Starlight, do you even want to be part of Luna’s republic?” Spike asked, more than a little exasperated that Apple Bloom happened to only talk about ponies again. His frustration was the only thing letting him look at the unicorn.

Starlight spared an empty glance at him, her ‘I cannot show weakness’ façade chipping for only a second before hardening again.

“I support democracy,” was all she said.

“But you don’t support this kind of democracy!” Spike groaned, “You and Luna used to debate and hash out details, and now you refuse to say anything. It’s whatever Luna wants. The republic we were working on is her vision, not yours or mine or Apple Bloom’s.”

Starlight faltered, knowing the dragon was right, but Apple Bloom bristled.

“Even if all of that were true – which it ain’t! – we’ll be a democracy,” the filly explained, “Decisions will be in the hooves of ponies.”

“And?” Spike prompted.

“And?” Apple Bloom repeated, confused.

“And non-ponies,” Starlight filled in the gap. Apple Bloom rolled her eyes.

“I might forget to say it, but it’s implied, Spike,” she huffed.

Spike was about to retort when Starlight interrupted, pointing at the cafeteria’s clock, “It’s time. The voting has begun.”

Everyone grew deathly silent, even the guards, staring at the clock in anticipation before realizing they had no idea how long it would take. Slowly ponies pulled themselves away from watching to return to their usual duties, eager to distract themselves from a turning point in history. Apple Bloom left with Scootaloo to attend Celestia’s class, saying she looked forward to the date. Spike politely said the same, though he was still dreading it. Left alone, he and Starlight spared a hurt glance at the other before quickly absconding from each other in silence: Spike to read more from the journal, and Starlight to find something to occupy her time until the night courses.

Scootaloo and Apple Bloom made their way towards the classroom but were intercepted by Gutsy Gust before reaching it.

“The Empress is recovering from a powerful spell she cast earlier today,” the pegasus explained, briefly, “Unfortunately this means her class is cancelled today. I’d appreciate it if you informed the others.”

“Oh,” Apple Bloom blinked in surprise, “Sure thing.”

The fillies walked away, searching for Sweetie Belle and the twins. Oddly, they found Flim with Big Mac talking to some of the Night Guard in the courtyard, most likely about the vote. They approached them, waiting for them to be noticed before they spoke.

“The friendship lessons were cancelled today,” Scootaloo explained.

“I appreciate you keeping me up to date, but I’ve already dropped Celestia’s class,” Flim explained in as polite a tone he could muster.

“Wait, really?” Scootaloo asked, “Why?”

“Celestia’s lessons are… restrictive,” Flim grimaced, “Surely you’ve noticed it? It’s also a lot of work with no reward!”

“I thought she had positions set up for you two in that new financial thing?” Apple Bloom asked.

“I’d rather make my own way in the world, rather than regulate others,” Flim muttered, “Luna says we don’t have to worry about regulation in the Republic.”

“Isn’t unregulated business kind of dangerous?” Scootaloo asked. She didn’t pay much attention to those sorts of things, but she had seen her fair share of poor business choices having painful consequences on communities, such as Filthy Rich’s conquest of small businesses, or other business-ponies’ use of wealth to disregard laws.

“Oh, the things kids say,” Flim chuckled.

“I don’t pretend to understand it, myself,” Big Mac chimed in, “but if Luna says unregulated business can work, then I trust her. After all, aren’t republics built on freedom or something?”

“That makes sense,” Apple Bloom said, almost immediately.

Scootaloo furrowed her brow. Wasn’t there more to a republic than freedoms? Wasn’t there supposed to be checks and balances to promise security, even at the cost of limiting some ponies’ – and non-ponies’, she reminded herself – freedoms? Bah, maybe she should have taken those political courses… Still, something about how willingly Big Mac and Apple Bloom were to take Luna’s recommendations rather than debate hot points was… troubling. What was the point of being allowed to vote if nobody thought about what they were voting for and just agreed with the leadership?

Deciding it was better left to the politically-inclined, Scootaloo sighed and walked away as Apple Bloom attached herself to their little cluster. The pegasus filly went in search of Sweetie Belle and the other twin, almost unsurprised to find they were hanging out with members of the Day Guard. Scootaloo was beginning to see a pattern, and it wasn’t comforting.

“Celestia cancelled the friendship class today,” she informed them.

“Empress Celestia,” Sweetie Belle corrected, haughtily.

“Quite right,” Flam nodded.

“Right…” Scootaloo rolled her eyes, ignoring the sudden stoniness in the guards’ expressions, “Sweetie Belle, did you want to hang out, or something? Apple Bloom’s distracting herself from her date with politics, or something just as boring, but that doesn’t mean we can’t have fun, right?”

“Oh, I’d love to,” Sweetie frowned, “but Flam and I were going to practice some of our spells. Why don’t you and Spike practice your fighting?”

“That… class was canceled,” Scootaloo grimaced, “Permanently.”

“Oh. Well,” Sweetie Belle tapped her chin, “what about Starlight?”

“What about Starlight?” Scootaloo raised an eyebrow.

“Well…” Sweetie Belle led Scootaloo out of earshot of the others, looking around to make sure they were alone, “Surely you’ve noticed how close she was with Spike? And how they’ve been avoiding each other suspiciously right after Apple Bloom asked him out? Seriously, can you not feel the tension?”

“What’s your point?” the pegasus sighed.

“You should try hanging out with Starlight and Trixie,” Sweetie suggested, “Every pony else is kind of freaking out about the political climate, y’know? If I remember correctly, you and Trixie cared the least, right? And Starlight could probably use a friend right now.”

“It would be nice to hang out with some ponies who aren’t talking politics for a change…” Scootaloo nodded at the plan, “Alright, I’ll go see what they’re up to.”

Scootaloo sighed, longing for her scooter. She had packed it, but naturally there were rules against riding it through the castle grounds. Why couldn’t she fly? Even Sweetie Belle’s magic had developed over the years, but Scootaloo was still grounded. And not for lack of trying. She was so deep in thought that she slammed into Trixie and Starlight without realizing it.

“Did Rainbow Crash teach you that, too?” Trixie asked, dryly.

“Sorry,” Scootaloo picked herself up before helping the older mares, “I was looking for you two, actually.”

“Well, you found us,” Starlight giggled. Scootaloo could tell it was somewhat forced, her not-so-subtle relationship troubles bleeding through. Trixie’s annoyed expression temporarily lapsed into concern for her best friend before she returned to glaring at the pegasus filly who had – quite literally – ran into them. “What’s up?”

“I just thought we could hang out, y’know?” Scootaloo shrugged, “Class got canceled, and Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle are talking politics with guards…”

“Boring!” Trixie declared.

“Exactly!” Scootaloo grinned, “So, I figured since I’ve barely spent any time with either of you, maybe now is a good time to start.”

“I don’t see why not,” Starlight smiled, “What about you, Trixie?”

“Fine,” the magician huffed, “Trixie didn’t really get to do anything since last Saturday, and even then it was just Guys’ Night.”

“I thought you liked being the OM?” Scootaloo asked.

“Trixie will neither confirm nor deny that,” the blue unicorn coughed into her hoof dismissively, “What is there to do in Canterlot?”

The three ponies shifted around uncomfortably once they realized they had no idea what to do in the capital city. None of them had really spent a lot of time there, if at all.

“Um,” Scootaloo saw Spike in the background, now incredibly easy to spot with his height, “How about we ask Spike? He used to live here.”

She immediately regretted the decision on seeing Starlight’s face twist in pain, Trixie eying her worriedly. How could the pegasus filly forget the point of hanging out was to distract Starlight from her romantic troubles? Not make them worse!

“I-I don’t know,” Starlight forced a chuckle, “Apple Bloom probably wouldn’t appreciate me – us! – hanging out with her drake-friend.”

“You know anyone else who knows Canterlot?” Scootaloo pointed out, annoyed by the hesitancy, “You two shouldn’t try to avoid each other.”

“What?” Starlight asked in a voice that was entirely unonvincing, “We’re not… that’s not what we’re doing. You’re crazy – why would we be doing that? Come on…”

Scootaloo only glared at her older friend.

“Is it that obvious?” Starlight pouted.

“Yes,” Trixie answered for the pegasus, “Scootaloo is right, too: you can’t keep avoiding each other. We’re all friends, aren’t we?”

“You don’t want to avoid your friends, do you?” Scootaloo asked.

“Oh, fine!” Starlight rolled her eyes, “Yeesh, you two are worse than Twilight, you know that?”

“Trixie will take that as a compliment,” the magician smirked in triumph.

The trio approached the dragon who had managed to unconsciously navigate towards the library while reading. Clearly, even after two years away, he still had the castle’s halls memorized. Starlight felt her heart flutter and her face heat up. He was taller than her, probably even taller than Ember. Truth be told, she hadn’t stopped thinking about that since she saw him. Dragons changed so… much. Ponies were the same shape, more or less, from foalhood to adulthood, but dragons went from bipedal creatures to lumbering quadrupeds over time, if her memory served her. Why was he suddenly growing? It wasn’t even a consistent growth!

Her need to know more almost betrayed her as she missed her friends calling her, but she snapped out of it in time to see Spike turn to look at them. He paled considerably and looked ready to bolt.

“Spike, wait!” Starlight called out, arresting his escape. The dragon tensed, unwilling to face her. Scootaloo and Trixie followed the pink unicorn, trusting her lead. Starlight grimaced; what exactly would she say, anyway? “Look, this is silly.”

“What’s silly?” Spike asked, trying to play off the elephant in the room.

“How we’re acting,” Starlight giggled, the sound of her laughter easing his tension, “We’ve been avoiding each other. I’m sorry for that. Can’t we just… go back to the way things were?”

Spike eyed her, his expression unreadable as he ran through his own thinking on it. Things were so confused between them. Ultimately, though, he wanted to be around her, even if they were only friends. He smiled and nodded and they both felt instantly relieved. Scootaloo and Trixie let out the pent-up breath they had both been holding.

“What did you want to do?” the dragon asked, not used to looking down at his friends.

“We don’t really know what there is to do,” Scootaloo explained, “None of us have really lived here.”

“We need an expert on the local scenery,” Starlight said, unable to keep a flirtatious edge from her voice. Rather than be uncomfortable, Spike rolled with it; after all, that was how they acted before.

“Well, I am the expert on the best holes-in-the-wall in Canterlot,” Spike chuckled. Trixie seemed pleased, though Scootaloo felt worried.

Putting her trepidation aside, Scootaloo followed the group, eager to distract herself from the smoldering glares and conniving whispers of the armchair politicos every pony had turned into. It didn’t take long for the dragon to change all that. Scootaloo was amazed as Spike showed them from one little-known pleasant place to the next, from donut and coffee shops to parks. Shops that appeared unimpressive turned out to hold an assortment of curios none of them had ever witnessed before. Restaurants none of them would have even noticed turned out to serve some of the best food they had ever tasted. Best of all, everywhere they went, they were welcomed warmly – any friend of Spike, they said, was a friend of theirs.

“Your reputation here is almost as glowing as your reputation in the Crystal Empire,” Starlight giggled.

“Wait,” Scootaloo said through a mouthful of gourmet cupcake, “all that stuff you said about saving the Crystal Empire was true?” she swallowed, “I thought you were exaggerating!”

“Oh, it’s true, alright,” Starlight nodded, “They have a giant crystal statue of him in town square and everything.”

“What does Trixie have to do to get a statue?” the magician asked in a huff, “We already saved Equestria…”

“Well, I did save the Crystal Empire more than once…” Spike chuckled, “Maybe you could save Ponyville a few times?”

“Twilight doesn’t have a statue,” Trixie pointed out, “neither do her friends.”

“True, but they do have stained windows dedicated to them in the castle,” Spike noted, “and Twilight became a Princess.”

“Ha! Trixie doubts she could become a Princess,” the magician thought about it, “You know, permanently.”

“I wonder if pegasi can become Princesses,” Scootaloo thought aloud, blushing at her friends’ stares, “It’s just a thought…”

“A very interesting one…” Starlight tapped her chin, thinking about it, “Twilight was a unicorn… I wonder if Luna and Celestia were, too?”

“Trixie thought they were born alicorns, like… forever ago.”

“Twilight said Flurry Heart was the only born alicorn,” Spike explained, “That means Celestia and Luna must have been something else before they became Princesses.”

“Wow, so I could become an alicorn?” Scootaloo gaped, “That’s kinda cool.”

“’Kinda’?! That’s amazing!” Trixie gushed.

“What’s the matter, Scoots?” Spike asked, “I thought you wanted to be a Princess? I mean, you asked and all.”

“The question was… how did Celestia phrase it? ‘Merely academic’,” Scootaloo imitated the Empress’ tone, “I really don’t want to be.”

“Why not?” Trixie asked.

“They’re immortal, aren’t they?” Scootaloo frowned, “I don’t really want to outlive everybody I love, y’know? I mean, what if I fall in love? I’d have to watch them die!”

“Unless you’re in love with another alicorn, of course,” Starlight smirked, looking directly at Trixie, who blushed in response.

“Yeah, but aren’t alicorns all mares?” Scootaloo snorted, “Wait, you don’t think I ‘play for the other team’ do you?” The pegasus then noticed Starlight giggling at Trixie’s discomfort and the pieces fell into place, “Oh. Ohhhhhh… Oh!”

“Wow, really?” Spike asked the magician, “Which Princess?”

The mares – Trixie included – deadpanned at the dragon.

“Right…” he chuckled, “I guess you’ve only been close to one before. I wouldn’t have to call you mom, would I?”

“Trixie would prefer you didn’t make her feel quite so old…” the magician’s cheeks flushed, “You… don’t have a problem with it?”

Spike exchanged looks with Starlight and Scootaloo before smiling.

“No,” he admitted, “Why? Should I?”

“Well, I- Trixie did enslave Ponvyille once…” Trixie said, eyes downcast, “and she hasn’t exactly been a good friend in the past…”

“Twilight considers you a good friend, Trixie,” Spike assured her, “and you weren’t in control during that whole enslaving thing.”

“Besides, she forgave me for enslaving and nearly destroying the world,” Starlight giggled, “You’re overthinking it, Trixie.”

“B-but-”

“Look,” Spike sighed, “Twilight has changed a lot since we moved to Ponyville. Maybe, when she was younger, she’d hold your past against you, but Twilight hasn’t said a word against you in years,” Spike thought about that, “Well, a year anyway.”

“You give surprisingly wise romantic advice, considering how shot your own romance is,” Trixie snorted at her remark before realizing it was intended to be a private thought, “Oh! I-I mean-”

“Er, so how about this kebab?” Scootaloo interrupted, deciding now was as good a time to change the subject as any, “I never expected grilled pineapple to go so well with grilled onions! What kind of spices do you think they use?”

“Salt…” Trixie murmured, face still flushed in embarrassment, “paprika, I think…”

The rest of the meal was enjoyed in awkward silence, broken occasionally by overhearing other groups mutter about the vote going on. The party left to follow Spike to one of his favorite hideaways – a small patch of soft grass along a creek running through the outskirts of Canterlot, hidden by a bridge and shady trees. The four sprawled out, basking in the sinking sunlight and enjoying a degree of peace away from the busy city.

“Yeesh, Spike, you proved to be the best guide,” Starlight said.

“Yeah, today was amazing,” Scootaloo laughed, “I almost forgot about the vote!”

“Even Trixie is curious now,” the magician yawned, waking up from her nap, grass in her mane, “how do you think it went?”

“We could go find out,” Spike looked at the position of the sun, “I need to get ready for my date with Apple Bloom, anyway.”

“Hopefully she’s not too distracted by this republic stuff,” Scootaloo sighed, “She’s probably the smartest of us, but she tends to get carried away sometimes…”

“Either way, I’m not going to be late for my first date,” Spike stood to his full height, stretching out his arms. Starlight blushed at the lithe musculature that now lay beneath his scales. She had always found his rotundness cute and endearing, and she was proud to say physical attraction was a minor concern of hers, but… tall, sleek Spike was even more attractive to her, especially when he was being noble and responsible.

It only twisted her heart a little that he was being noble and responsible about another mare. Maybe the pain would go away in time.

The quartet returned to the city, noticing with mounting tension the change in attitude of the ponies. The city looked almost in a state of riot, with crowds of ponies shouting and screaming in outrage, guards struggling to keep the mobs from attacking smaller groups who wore triumphant smirks. Things only got worse the closer they got to the castle, the crowds larger and more volatile. Demonstrations and counter-demonstrations were raging, ponies in a tumult over what they assumed correctly to be the vote.

“There she is!” one of the ponies raged, pointing at Starlight, “Get her!”

Starlight blanched as a mob swarmed towards them, but they stopped in their tracks as Spike stood between them, drawing himself above them and snarling. Before they could regain their courage, another mob – much smaller than the first – got themselves between Spike and Starlight’s would-be aggressors.

“Get her out of here!” the ringleader of the second group declared, “We’ll hold them off!”

Spike was stunned but did as ordered, leading Starlight and the others through a series of little-known back alleys to bypass the courtyard and enter the castle subtly. The Day Guard on duty eyed them with contempt but let them in.

What they hay was going on?

Apple Bloom checked the clock again. It was almost 5:00 PM, and she hadn’t seen Spike for some time. Their date wasn’t until 7:00, so it wouldn’t be a problem, but… She shook her head as she noticed an excited Night Guard rushing to their little group. The Night Guard barracks was usually off-limits to civilians, but it was now overflowing with secret supporters of the Republic, civilian and military alike. They grew silent as the Night Guard approached, steadying his breath.

“What news?” Night Bane asked. Every pony leaned in, expectantly.

“The votes have been tallied,” the guard huffed out, “the Republic will be created.”

Immediately the ponies cheered, Apple Bloom and Flim included. Apple Bloom let her cheering die when she noticed the messenger wasn’t finished. Slowly the cheering petered out as others realized the same. The Night Guard looked too nervous to continue.

“But?” a new voice rang out, drawing all eyes to its source. Most of the ponies immediately bowed at seeing Luna striding into their midst, but she urged them to quit the archaic habit. She waited for the Night Guard to continue.

“…But only five city-states voted to join,” he finished, “the others were plagued with… indecision.”

“Which city-states?” Luna asked, her voice and face betraying nothing.

“Prance, Marexico, and Stalliongrad…” the Night Guard said, then paused, “Madame… are you aware of the message…?”

“Continue, soldier,” Luna ordered, gravely.

“Within Equestria proper…” the guard swallowed, “…only Appleloosia and Las Pegasus voted to join…”

Luna exhaled slowly.

“And the election?” she asked. It was unknown in the waking world, but she had the leaders of each republican city-state put it on the ballot.

“Which one?” the guard asked.

“The… the one for President,” Luna clarified, “There was another?”

“Indeed,” the guard smiled in spite of the situation, “They wanted to surprise you with a name for the Republic.”

“Then the results for both,” Luna nodded, sharing in his smile. She already knew their chosen name – it was hardly a surprise.

“As per your suggestion,” the guard chuckled, “Starlight Glimmer has almost unanimously been elected President of the Lunar Republic.”

“Well, at least there is some good news,” Luna smirked, “even if they did have to use such a ridiculous name…”

“Starlight is President?” Apple Bloom gaped, “Wait, when did you have all this recommended? I never heard about any of this!”

“She had us gather in the dream realm,” Flim explained, “Adult stuff – no fillies under voting age.”

“Wait, you’re putting an age limit on voting, too?” Apple Bloom pouted.

“It’s the same as the age of consent,” Luna explained, “That is to say, dependent on the city-state’s definition of ‘maturity’.”

“Only Appleloosia and Las Pegasus…” one of the civilian ponies muttered, “I can’t believe Manehattan backed out…”

“I can’t believe my hometown backed out too,” another added.

“This is a nightmare…”

“I thought all of Equestria would be behind us…”

Luna eyed them all with sympathetic pain, clearly not expecting this. If any city-states were to back out, she figured they’d be the ones with imperial pasts and thus more prone to relapse. Prance might have been one of the earliest democratic city-states, but it had also been one of the most successful imperial city-states – and historically fluctuated. More surprising was Stalliongrad, a city-state infamous for being one of the harshest imperial city-states until recent decades saw it violently convert to democracy. Even now it had traces of its imperial policies complicating their democratic institutions, and if any city-state would revert, Luna had expected it to be Stalliongrad.

“Soldier,” she spoke up at last, silencing the quiet despair of her supporters, “you mentioned a message?”

“Yes.”

“What did it say? Who sent it?”

Every pony was deathly silent. The guard couldn’t bring himself to speak. Night Bane approached her and whispered in her ear. The widening of her eyes a fraction and a hardness to her jaw was the only betrayal of the flash of murderous rage that surged through her before she put it in check. She allowed herself to calm down, putting on her best face and smiling. Immediately her supporters perked up, not expecting this turnaround.

“My friends, there is no need to despair,” Luna said, “The Republic lives, and while it is small now, I have no doubt that in time – seeing us succeed – the others will remember their desire for freedom and join us. We will stand together through this trial, and we will stand tall.”

The ponies nodded, slowly, her words soothing their psyches. It was a setback, not a defeat. Luna wouldn’t allow herself to succumb to her dismay or anger, now all-too-aware of the presence of that… Nightmare. It was a duty she had let slip through her grasp in her eagerness to modernize and unite her race.

“Apple Bloom, Flim, Big Macintosh, please accompany me,” Luna said, “Night Bane, send for Starlight Glimmer.”

“I believe she’s outside of the castle with my former squires,” the pegasus informed her, “but I will tell the guards to keep their eyes peeled. If any of them still listen to me, that is.”

Night Bane flew off to carry out his orders while Luna led her confidants to her personal study. Flim and Apple Bloom looked around in awe, but the filly noticed Big Mac seemed familiar enough with the place. She narrowed her eyes in suspicion. Was Big Mac being sweet on Luna behind her back? Actually, considering how the Crusaders tried to meddle with his love life before, it shouldn’t have been a surprise he’d keep any romances secret.

“I’m honored to be invited here, Luna,” Apple Bloom said, looking at the arcade machine propped in the corner; the top scores were all LULU except one which read KAOS, “but why are we here?”

We are waiting to congratulate our mutual friend – and the future President of the Lunar Republic,” Luna smiled, levitating a crate of bottled drinks from a closet. Flim blanched as he recognized them. “I never knew my sister had vineyards… It almost cost me a foreleg and a hind-leg to afford this crate. Did you know it’s the last batch of Princess Berry Pop in Canterlot?”

“You don’t say…” Flim wiped sweat from his brow.

“I don’t know why Celestia shut down production,” Luna tsked, “Oh well! There’s no better time to drink it then at a celebration.”

It didn’t take long for the guest of honor to arrive, along with her friends. Apple Bloom joined her brother and Flim in greeting them, but noticed how confused and worried they looked. What had them so spooked?

“Congratulations, Madame President,” Luna greeted the pink mare as she drew closer, startling her even more.

“Wait, what now?” Starlight blinked, looking at Spike as if he could explain. The dragon only shrugged.

“You were on the ballot to become the leader of the Lunar Republic,” Luna explained, smiling, “and you won. You are now the first President of the Lunar Republic.”

“I-I can’t believe this…” Starlight swayed, quickly being supported by Spike and Trixie by her sides, “This is so sudden… I-I didn’t even know I was on the ballot! I never volunteered!”

“I nominated you,” Luna said, “You are an appropriate age, you have leadership experience, and you have a sharp mind for politics.”

“This is just… so weird,” Starlight sat down, still trying to take it in. Luna levitated a beverage to her which she chugged down, “Is that why those ponies tried to attack me?”

“Ponies tried to attack you?” Flim gaped.

“Some other ponies helped us escape,” Scootaloo added.

“The situation within Canterlot has… deteriorated,” Night Bane summarized to Luna, “The Roy- I mean, the Imperial Guard is busy quelling riots, but things are tense. I imagine it’s like this in every city-state.”

“I didn’t expect rioting over this…” Luna frowned, “How is my sister handling the situation?”

“Celestia hasn’t been seen since earlier today,” Flim explained, “She, uh… she left with my brother to somewhere in the castle.”

“Oh, so now she takes my advice?!” Luna rolled her eyes, “And really? Into the castle? She must be in her private study.”

“Wow, Flam works fast,” Scootaloo noted, drawing eyes towards her, “Oh, come on! You were all thinking it!”

“Anyway,” Luna shook her head in an effort to get an unwanted mental image out, “I know you’ve just gotten into your office, but you will need to select a Chancellor soon, and familiarize yourself with the Lunar Republic’s laws and your duties.”

“…On top of class?” Starlight murmured, too stunned to think clearly.

“Consider yourself graduated,” Luna smirked, “with honors.”

“Oh cool…” the unicorn shook her head vigorously, regaining awareness, “Wait, a Chancellor?”

“Yes,” the Empress of the Night nodded, “Anybody you think will fulfill the role. We don’t have detailed laws, yet, but the general consensus so far is that political offices must be held by ponies who are citizens of the Republic and adults.”

“What about non-ponies?” Spike asked.

“Er…” Luna’s eyes widened in surprise, “Perhaps… down the road. I’m not sure if a unified Equestria should begin with a non-pony in office. Things are tenuous now, and with only five city-states behind us, we cannot be expected to-”

“Five?!” Starlight exclaimed, “What happened to all of the other city-states supporting us?!”

“My sister sent out some message moments before the vote,” Luna scowled, “Apparently it was quite persuasive.”

“Apparently,” Starlight deadpanned, “Alright, well if I can’t choose Spike or Apple Bloom since they’re too young…”

Her eyes drifted towards Big Mac and Flim, but both shied away, clearly not interested in the responsibility such an office would force on them. In truth, Starlight wasn’t eager to put them in that position, either. Flim was too eager to be a business-pony with no regard to the impact his quest for profit would have on their young nation’s economy – if they even had an economy with five city-states… As for Big Mac, Starlight seriously doubted his agricultural skills would translate well into managing a nation’s infrastructure. Her eyes turned to Trixie who merely shook her head. Again, Starlight figured, probably not the best option.

“I appoint you, Luna, as Chancellor of the Lunar Republic,” Starlight decided.

“W-what?” the alicorn’s eyes widened. Starlight was surprised; she figured Luna had planned this decision, but it seemed the Empress of the Night had no interest in being an officeholder in the Republic. “I am an Empress; I cannot perform duties for both nations! If I am a leader in both, then I will not be effective in either! Worse, I will be viewed as a traitor to both camps and undermine support for the Republic as a whole!”

“So we have to pick sides, now?” Starlight challenged, “If that’s the case, then which side are you on? The Republic, or the Empire?”

“I cannot pick a side in this,” Luna shook her head, “not without jeopardizing everything. I must stay in the Empire and convince Equestrians to support the Republic. In time, I can smooth over relations and we can move forward, but until then… I dare not risk it.”

“Ugh!” Starlight growled, “Who else is there?”

“There is one mare in Canterlot who might be interested…” Night Bane brought up. Starlight nodded for him to continue, “Senator Mare of Ponyville arrived recently. She’s a supporter of democracy, and I’m under the impression she’s not pleased with the changes Princess Twilight has been making to Ponyville.”

“Twilight’s been changing things?” Spike asked, “Mayor Mare isn’t, well, mayor anymore?”

“Princess Twilight has been converting Ponyville to the imperial system dictated by Empress Celestia,” Night Bane explained, “much against the wishes of half her subjects, if rumors are to be believed.”

“I will approach Senator Mare about this,” Starlight sighed, tossing her bottle into a recycling bin as she headed for the door.

“But, your celebration…?” Luna almost seemed hurt.

“I’ll celebrate when there’s peace,” Starlight growled out, irritated she had been forced into this position, “Until then, save me a bottle of that soda!”

With that, Starlight left.

The party had been going well enough, despite the tension. Twilight had convinced Rarity and Rainbow Dash to attend and, after some coaxing with cider, Rainbow had become amiable once more. Slowly, ever so slowly, the tension of the vote was forgotten, as was the tension about Fluttershy’s sovereignty. Slowly they looked past it all and remembered their friendship which had stood countless trials.

Too slow, it turned out.

“Princess!” a voice shouted moments before something heavy slammed into the door of Fluttershy’s cabin.

Startled, the homeowner answered her door to find a dazed Derpy Hooves lying on her doormat, eyes spinning from the impact. The party waited for the gray pegasus to recover from her impact, standing on her legs. Staring at the Princess of Friendship – and at some part of the ceiling – Derpy looked close to tears.

“Princess!” she began, “You need to return to Ponyville quickly! Everything’s gone crazy!”

“What?” Twilight blinked, looking over her shoulder at her friends before looking back at the mail-pony, “What happened?”

“The vote for the public thing!” Derpy said, “I-I don’t know what’s going on, but every pony started yelling, then they started fighting, and now all the muffins are burnt, and the Doctor told me to come get you, and-”

“Okay, okay!” Twilight said quickly, trying to soothe the increasingly-emotional pegasus before she wound up with a hyperventilating mare on Fluttershy’s doorstep, “Girls, we need to go! Ponyville needs us!”

Without even a second thought, they rushed out of Fluttershy’s cabin, a stunned Discord following them hesitantly. Derpy, startled by their suddenness, took a moment longer before following. Within a few minutes they were back in Ponyville, shocked at the unfolding chaos. Carts were overturned, windows smashed in, and ponies openly fighting each other. Few noticed the approach of the mares who had saved their lives countless times; even fewer cared. Only a handful of ponies – mostly Cheerilee and the children – were trying to stay out of the fights, boarding up windows and hiding. Twilight saw the disharmony and felt her blood boiling over.

“What is going on here?!” she demanded using the full force of her Royal Voice.

The fighting immediately stopped, her subjects flinching back. Those closest to her were physically knocked over and stunned, and even after seconds lapsed in its wake, Twilight could still hear the echo of her demand reverberating through the town. Normally it would embarrass her, the idea that she had overdone it, but in this instance, she felt she had underdone it, if anything.

“Princess Twilight!” Octavia huffed, coming out of a crowd, limping. Vinyl Scratch was clutched to one of her hind-legs, gnawing at it like some kind of coyote, but Octavia ignored her. “These republic curs are openly defying your rule!”

“As if!” Vinyl dragged herself up from the ground, “All we wanted was to have our vote! Ponyville is a democratic city-state!”

“Ponyville is ruled by an Alicorn Princess!” Octavia shot back, prompting a new wave of arguments from the crowd that had just stopped arguing.

“Silence!” Twilight shouted, stunning them once more, “Ponyville isn’t allowed to vote to secede!”

“Now Twi, hold on a minute…” Applejack began.

“No, I’m not going to humor any pony with this,” the Princess huffed, “I’m sorry, but I won’t risk disharmony in Equestria because a few of you want to vote on silly issues that don’t affect most of you, anyway!”

“We have a right to participate in our-” one pony began.

“Yes, you do,” Twilight interrupted, “and you can do so by participating in the City-State Council I’ve designed – as per Celestia’s recommendation. You elect members to it, and they work with me in governing Ponyville.”

The republican towns-ponies hesitated, unsure how to react to that. The imperial towns-ponies only seemed slightly curious at the suggestion, wondering why the Princess would even need elected officials to help her. Frankly, it seemed like pandering to the masses to them.

“If democracy is so important to you,” Twilight began, much calmer, “then I will not stop you from leaving to go to this new republic. However, I beg you to please just try out this system. It’s almost identical to what we’ve been doing, but with the laws many of you asked for to help protect you! Don’t give up on Celestia, not yet. Please don’t give up on me…”

The republican towns-ponies looked down in embarrassment at Twilight’s humility and sincerity. Immediately the fires of their discontent were snuffed out, replaced by shame at having gotten so worked up over something that, in the moment, seemed inconsequential. Slowly, one-by-one, the republican towns-ponies bowed or quietly left. Pleased, the imperial towns-ponies also bowed. Twilight looked over her shoulder to see Rarity and Rainbow Dash nodding approval. Applejack, Pinkie Pie, and Fluttershy looked conflicted, but nodded to show their support of her decision.

The Princess sighed in relief. She had averted a major crisis and managed to preserve her composure the entire time, avoiding making the situation worse. She smiled at her subjects, trying her best to imitate Celestia’s usual grace.

“Now then,” she said, “let us work together to clean up this mess and rebuild our town, shall we?”

Slowly both groups of towns-ponies joined her and the other Elements in repairing Ponyville, singing songs and repairing more than just broken windows and splintered storefronts. Twilight felt elated at the crisis she had averted, feeling she had fulfilled her duty as the Princess of Friendship. It was a brilliant sensation, one that filled her with hope. Ponyville had been saved, which meant that the rest of Equestria – and the older pony city-states outside Equestria – could be, too.

She had no idea the tempest that was building outside of their humble little town.