//------------------------------// // 20 // Story: When Heavens Divide // by Mediocre Morsov //------------------------------// 20 Monday, the 30th, of October “I’m sorry,” Fluttershy held onto a fragile smile, “she’s been staying with you… how long?” “Only a few days,” Discord said, “I lose track in my own world, you know.” The pegasus’ eyes flitted to the griffon she had never reconciled with, then back at her… best friend. The idea that Discord would have any female over at his place without telling her grated on her nerves, despite the fact neither of them would outright confess they were a couple. The fact said female had stayed several nights in his home while he was away from Fluttershy’s side made her anxious. Picking up on that, Discord smirked but his eyes betrayed some offense. “Fluttershy, you’re not jealous, are you?” he chuckled, “You should know I’d never replace you.” “I’m sorry, I know that,” the pegasus relaxed a little, “It’s just Gilda and I didn’t get off to a good start, and the idea of you and her being alone for so many days… I was worried when you didn’t immediately return from your visit to the Orduud.” “Ah, yes,” the draconequues sighed, “I wanted to return immediately, but considering things were going haywire in Equestria, I decided to lie low. Ponies seem to be lashing out more at non-ponies with the Republic becoming official, so I felt it best to keep her out of that mess. At least at first.” “Hey,” Gilda spoke up, face set in irritation, “I’m right here, so if you could avoid talking about me like I’m not, that’d be great.” “Oh, sorry,” Fluttershy blushed in embarrassment. She knew what it felt like to be ignored. “I’m just a little peeved at all of this happening behind my back.” “I appreciate you trying to protect me, Discord,” the griffon said, “but I really don’t need it. I just wanted to come to Equestria for a little bit, see Rainbow Dash, and try to enjoy being around creatures that aren’t paranoid and hateful.” “Well, Rainbow Dash should be free today,” Fluttershy nodded, “Actually, would you mind if I come, too? I haven’t been on the best terms with her, either.” “Really?” Gilda raised an eyebrow, “I thought you two were, like, besties or something?” “The situation in Equestria has become rather polarized,” Discord explained, “Politics, you understand? Dear Fluttershy supports the Lunar Republic, while Rainbow Brash doesn’t.” “Ugh, even here I have to deal with politics?” the griffon seemed disgusted, “Wait, Rainbow Dash doesn’t like the Republic? Aren’t they, like… into freedom and stuff?” “Oh yes!” the pegasus smiled, but it disappeared almost immediately, “Rainbow Dash prefers being loyal to Celestia, though. She has a very strong sense of obligation to the Wonderbolts and to Celestia, and she thinks the Republic and the desire for freedoms are somehow acts of betrayal.” “Great,” Gilda sighed, “Now I get the feeling she’ll think talking to me will be an act of treason, too!” “I doubt that,” Fluttershy said, “You’re an old friend. Maybe seeing you will be good for her?” “Yeah,” Gilda shrugged, “maybe. If you two wanna come along, I’m not gonna stop you.” With that, the griffon left with her acquaintances in tow. The flight to Rainbow Dash’s house was largely uneventful other than Discord’s chatter, but Gilda had grown used to that after spending several days with him. She still didn’t understand how he and Fluttershy were best friends – and it was impossible to conceive how they might be something more. They were simply too different, but she wasn’t about to ask them to quit hanging out. She had been raised on horror stories of the reign of the Lord of Chaos, and it was obvious that his dedication to Fluttershy had transformed him; Gilda had no desire to reawaken what he had been simply because she didn’t understand their relationship. Rainbow Dash opened her door as soon as they landed, seeing their approach from inside. She seemed happy, but also guarded. “Gilda?” the cyan pegasus asked, “I thought you’d be with the Orduud?” “I needed some space from those chumps,” the griffon explained, rubbing the knuckles of her talons against her plumage in feigned disinterest, “They’ve turned into real jerks. Except Rutherford and that Ember chick – they’re pretty decent.” “Why are you in Ponyville?” Rainbow Dash cocked her head to the side, confused, then beamed at a realization, “Wait! Did you come all the way here just to see me?” “Don’t get your feathers in a bunch,” Gilda looked over her shoulder, blushing in embarrassment, “But… yeah. I guess I did come here just to see you.” “Ah yeah!” Rainbow reared, cackling, “I knew it! You’re turning into a softy.” “Watch it…” Gilda smirked. “Sorry!” Rainbow pranced in place, “I don’t listen to marshmallows.” “That’s it!” Gilda playfully charged the pegasus and the two zoomed out of the house and into the sky, racing in increasingly-difficult maneuvers while laughing. Fluttershy and Discord only watched. “I’ll never understand all these different shades of friendship,” the draconequues confessed. “Don’t worry,” Fluttershy flashed a modest smile, “No one can ever understand everything about friendship.” “Don’t let Twilight hear you say that,” Discord chortled. Finally, the two speedsters landed, hardly tired, on Rainbow’s porch with the others, laughing. Their mirth put Fluttershy and Discord in good spirits, though the mischievous Lord of Chaos was usually in good spirits, especially with Fluttershy by his side. The cyan pegasus invited them into her home while she prepared drinks. Discord muttered something under his breath about how Fluttershy was a better hostess, but a nudge to the ribs from the yellow pegasus silenced his criticism. “So, besides getting roped into that group,” the pegasus poured her friends each a glass of carbonated cider, “what have you been up to?” Gilda took a second to answer, not sure if she wanted to bother explaining why she had originally, willingly supported the Orduud or if that would simply lead to more problems. Deciding it wasn’t worth it, she decided to answer the question. “I’ve mostly been busy rebuilding the griffons’ society in small parts,” she explained, “Traveling around, teaching my fellow griffons to be less arrogant and brash, and be more helpful and kind. Met a really friendly one named Gabby. Jeeze, was she friendly…” the griffon’s tone suggested ‘annoying’ would have been a more apt description. “How’d you end up in the Orduud, anyway?” Rainbow asked, “Did they force you?” “What?” Gilda seemed offended, then calmed herself, “Look, until recently the Orduud has been a really good group. I mean, that’s not saying much since it’s only been like… two weeks? But it got a whole bunch of races to talk and intermingle and buddy up. The original vision held by the Triumvirate was that ponies would eventually join, too, but somehow leaders like that pompous jerk Grigori are convincing others we need war with the ponies.” “How can a group that wants war with ponies be good?!” Rainbow gaped. “Did you seriously ignore everything else I said?” Gilda scowled. “She has selective hearing when it comes to politics,” Fluttershy couldn’t help the remark and Discord stifled a guffaw. “Don’t you start, secessionist!” the cyan pegasus snapped, then struggled to calm herself, “Sorry, I just… So, they were good, but now they’re not, and that’s why you left?” “Sorta,” Gilda shrugged, “I mean, they aren’t what I’d call bad yet, but more and more of the griffons, yaks, and dragons are listening to leaders like Grigori and Garble, and less to the Triumvirate.” “Who is the Triumvirate?” Fluttershy asked. “Oh, the three non-ponies leading the silly thing,” Discord explained dismissively, “They’re nice enough, I suppose, but they really need a vacation.” “Dragon Lord Ember, Prince Rutherford, and King Pharynx,” Gilda explained, “That last one really doesn’t sit well with most of the Orduud. See, the changelings aren’t really part of the Orduud, so it’s bugging everyone that one of the leadership positions is being filled by them. Grigori has been trying to rile everyone up against them. He’s got the camels in a frenzy pushing for war with Saddle Arabia for some reason…” “He sounds nuts!” Rainbow exclaimed. “Oh, he is,” Gilda nodded. “That, too, was my professional assessment,” Discord chuckled. “Is the Orduud going to attack us?” Rainbow asked. “I doubt it,” Gilda snorted, “Ember, Rutherford, and Pharynx are pretty strong leaders. Grigori is just a backstabbing ankle-biter. Even the muscle-heads barking for war will choose strong leaders over a guy like Grigori.” “Well, if they want a fight, send them my way!” Rainbow slammed her hooves together, “I’ll show them how tough ponies can be!” Gilda smirked, but inside she actually tried to visualize it. The ponies were small, had thinner hides than any race in the Orduud, lacked claws, fangs, or talons. Their magic was some of the most powerful in the world, but very few unicorns could achieve anything beyond levitation. They had flight, but aside from Rainbow Dash’s impossible speed, there was nothing unique about that. Their only physical strength was in their bucking, but like the unicorns, only specialists had any exceptional strength. Perhaps, Gilda mused, the ponies’ numbers would help them in a war… She shook her head clear of the thoughts. She had left the Orduud to get away from their obsession with war, and there she was thinking about it! “How does the Orduud work, anyway?” Fluttershy asked, “If I remember correctly, aren’t all the races involved their own separate governments? You made sure to use Ember, Rutherford, and Pharynx’s titles, so I’m assuming they all have their leaders still in place. If that’s the case, what keeps the races’ leaders following the Triumvirate?” “Uh, well,” Gilda scratched her chin, trying to remember how it was explained to her, “We’re kind of a confederation. The leaders of each race have agreed to follow the leadership of the Triumvirate because, well, the three leaders have the closest ties with ponies and – originally – the Orduud wanted to avoid conflict. Really all any of us wanted was to be treated with courtesy and respect by ponies, but that didn’t happen.” “What are you talking about?” Rainbow demanded, “I respect you!” “I appreciate that,” Gilda chuckled, “but I mean, we wanted our nations to be treated equally with yours.” Rainbow Dash bit her tongue, conscious of the fact she had almost said no other nation was equal to Equestria. Although her opinion hadn’t changed on that, she realized from her previous discussions with her friends that saying something like that would just anger and offend. Instead the pegasus merely nodded, which caused the griffon to raise an eyebrow. It was a strangely subdued action for the Wonderbolt, but rather than question it Gilda changed subjects. “So, what is there to do in town?” she asked, “I hear you had to help rebuild the place after some kind of riot. I’m imagining there’s not much left?” “Actually, Gilda,” Fluttershy interjected, “since you’ll be extending your stay in Ponyville until the Orduud calms down, maybe we could help you find a place to stay? Not that Discord or I mind guests, but neither of our homes are designed for extended visits.” “I get it,” Gilda snorted, “Alright then. Dash, you wanna help me look for a place to stay for a few… I don’t know, weeks? Months?” “I’ll help you find a job, too,” Rainbow beamed, “Unless you’ve got untold riches I haven’t heard of to pay all those bills.” “Good point,” the griffon chuckled. “I believe you mentioned something about baking while you were staying over?” Discord brought up, “I’m sure Pinkie Pie knows a perfect job for you somewhere.” “She won’t mind the competition?” Gilda meant it as a joke, knowing that while she had quickly become one of the best (probably the best) bakers in Griffonstone, she was still leagues behind Pinkie’s confectionary skills. “Oh no, she’s gotten over that kind of competition years ago,” Fluttershy answered anyway, “She’ll probably help you get everything up and running, too.” “Yeah, Pinkie’s cool like that,” Rainbow Dash nodded. “I remember,” Gilda smiled involuntarily, “Sure, why not? I guess I’ve missed her more than I’d care to admit.” “Well then,” Rainbow opened her door for the others, “what are we waiting for?” … Starlight looked at the reports on her desk. At first she had been elated to finally receive some work, but the reports were all troubling. Despite Chancellor Mare being in charge of domestic policies, many of them overlapped with international policies, or otherwise required her authorization. Then there was her work with Flim on trade policies. In between the torrent of papers, Starlight had tried studying the structure, laws, and constitution of the Lunar Republic. The whole thing was a mess, which was to be expected since they had built it in a matter of weeks. Even with all the effort on Luna’s part, and all the preparation the city-states had gone through, the entire system was built on shaky foundations and fit to collapse in on itself. All of the policies and laws the senate was trying to pass were stopgaps rather than lasting solutions. Unfortunately, Starlight had no authority over that, so she returned her attention to foreign affairs. “Is this report… accurate?” she asked her aide. “As accurate as can be, I reckon,” Apple Bloom drawled out. Starlight hadn’t hesitated in making the filly her assistant, despite the fact her presence painfully reminded the unicorn of a certain dragon. “What does it say, anyway?” “You didn’t read it?” Starlight was surprised, then impressed, “Of course you didn’t. You’re a good kid, not sneaking peaks at other ponies’ mail.” “That didn’t answer my question,” the filly snorted. “The report states that Saddle Arabia is currently being invaded by the camels,” Starlight said, choosing not to hold her punches, “They’ve requested military support from the Empire, but for some reason they aren’t sending any.” “What?!” Apple Bloom gaped, “Wait, we’re at war with the camels?!” “Saddle Arabia is, apparently,” Starlight grimaced, “We can’t get involved.” “You can’t be serious,” the filly scoffed, “Those are ponies that are being attacked! Sure, they didn’t join the Republic, but we have to help!” “I appreciate your enthusiasm,” Starlight gave a mirthless chuckle, “but we can’t afford this right now. We don’t even have a military!” “If Celestia ain’t going to help them, some pony has to!” the filly demanded, “You should take this opportunity to make the Lunar Republic a symbol of dependability for all of pony kind!” Starlight was about to retort, but stopped short. There was merit in Apple Bloom’s idea, but there was also a great risk. Aside from the Royal Guard and city-state police forces, no land inhabited by ponies had had anything like a military since King Sombra. It could look bad, especially if the Orduud – whom the camels were a member – took the Republic’s intervention as an excuse to retaliate. But, it could also serve the Republic greatly. Celestia and the Empire were either unaware or simply didn’t care about Saddle Arabia’s plight, so if the Lunar Republic offered aid and fought off the camels, well, they’d be the heroes… “I can’t do any of this anyway,” Starlight shook her head, “the Senate won’t allow it.” “Did you even read the constitution?” Apple Bloom asked, “The President has the power to declare war, and during wartime, if the Senate isn’t cooperating, she has the power to call a state of emergency and bypass the Senate. If they won’t help you, then you can just go around them.” “What a horrible system!” the unicorn blanched at what she was hearing, “Are you saying all I have to do is declare war in order to seize power?” “Well, you’ll only be able to bypass the Senate,” Apple Bloom shrugged, “You’d still have to work with the Chancellor, but since the Chancellor can be appointed and dismissed by the President in the first place… You know, now that I’m saying all this out loud I can see how it might be a problem.” “Ugh, whatever,” Starlight groaned, “let’s get the Senate to approve this idea of yours. Maybe I won’t have to flex my muscles.” “I think we’ll be in luck,” Apple Bloom offered a hopeful smile, “Last I saw it was all any of them were talking about. I wouldn’t be surprised if the military plan is back on the table.” “Then what are we waiting for? An invitation?” Starlight laughed as she led the way out of her office and out of her mansion. The Lunar Republic Senate was held on the estate dedicated to their government by their wealthy supporter, but just because it was held outside made it no less grand. They quieted down as Starlight entered their arena, several senators giving respectful greetings towards her. She returned the greetings before asking to bring something to their attention, which the Senate was fine with. Chancellor Mare stepped down and let Starlight take the stage. “I wish to put forth a request that we build up a military force to aid in the defense of Saddle Arabia from the camel invasion,” she said plainly, trying to ignore some of the indignant cries of the senators, “Now, before any of you go ballistic, I also want to point out that we have an obligation to the defense of all Equestria – not just to the city-states part of the Republic.” “I agree,” Braeburn said quickly, forestalling protests from the four other senators, “We need to send aid immediately.” “We can’t just build an army overnight,” Prance’s senator pointed out. “Speak for yourself,” the Stalliongrad senator let out a bark of a laugh, “Stalliongrad can produce an army of a hundred ponies within the week.” “Poorly-trained conscripts aren’t exactly what we had in mind…” Spring Dahlias muttered. “If I might make a suggestion?” Chancellor Mare spoke up, drawing all eyes to her, “There have been numerous resignations in the Imperial Guard due to recent events. It might be possible to recruit these soldiers to train troops in each city-state.” “That’d be a good idea,” Braeburn smiled at the suggestion. “No offense, Chancellor,” the Prench senator grimaced, “but it sounds as if you are suggesting a centralized military.” “That would be efficient,” Starlight pointed out. “It would rob the city-states of their identities. Prance has a proud military history, and my constituents will not appreciate abandoning their traditions and giving their foals over to military service for other city-states.” “What the-” Starlight did a double-take, “I’m sorry, but aren’t we a nation? Aren’t we supposed to work together?” “Working together is all fine and dandy,” the Las Pegasus senator spoke up, “but asking ponies to fight for city-states they’ve never even been to? Especially a city-state like Saddle Arabia, which hates our guts? That’s asking too much.” “Then I have another suggestion,” Chancellor Mare preempted Starlight’s rebuttal, “What if we raise a volunteer army trained by the formal Imperial Guard?” “And who would fund it?” the Las Pegasus senator sneered, “War isn’t cheap, and I think I’ve made it clear Las Pegasus has no interest in the war.” “What if there was a reason to be interested?” Apple Bloom spoke up, surprising Starlight. “Who let a filly in here?” the Stalliongrad senator asked. “She’s my ai- er… my Secretary of Administration,” Starlight said, trying to give Apple Bloom some leverage. “How could we have any interest in getting involved in a war between nations who don’t support us?” Spring Dahlias asked. “Well,” Apple Bloom thought about it, “for one thing, Saddle Arabia and the other pony city-states would see our intervention as a good thing, wouldn’t they? In fact, since the Empire isn’t doing anything to help, it might inspire a whole mess of them to join us – which would only make the Lunar Republic stronger and wealthier.” Braeburn arched an eyebrow at his cousin, not sure when she had become so ambitious, but the other senators looked at each other in contemplation. Seeing her moment, Starlight stepped in. “In addition to the prestige we’d get with the other city-states,” she said, “if we beat the camels, we could negotiate terms in a treaty – trading rights, mutual defense pacts, and recognition of the Lunar Republic as an official nation. Since they’re part of the Orduud, this could also open the door for negotiation with them – something the Empire refuses to do.” “That’s a lot of trade opportunities,” the Las Pegasus senator grinned slowly, “definitely worth a small military investment.” “The prestige…” the Prench senator’s eyes glittered with memories of his city-states foregone glory. “The power!” the Stalliongrad senator chuckled, eagerly. “And what if the war doesn’t go as expected?” Spring Dahlias asked the hard question, “What if we’re forced into a war against the entire Orduud? What if Saddle Arabia and Cameloo make peace and we’re stuck fighting the war on our own? What if the Empire takes the opportunity and conquers us? What if we can’t keep up the horsepower and no pony enlists?” The senators were silent again, and even Starlight and Chancellor Mare mulled this over. “I say we have the opportunity to liberate all of Equestria with this action,” Apple Bloom stamped her hoof, “I say we can make the Lunar Republic the pony nation, that we can make her strong and prosperous and prove to the rest of the world that we aren’t just a bunch of dreamers, but doers! We can save Saddle Arabia.” “I choose to stand by my cousin,” Braeburn grinned, “She seems to know what she’s saying.” “Stalliongrad would be honored to march for the Republic.” “Prance has never shied away from a fight.” “Las Pegasus will expect a full return on our investment, but we’ll join too.” Every pony looked at Spring Dahlias, who only sighed in resignation, barely nodding her head. “Well then,” Starlight smirked, “let’s get to building that army.” … “Tia, please!” Flam pleaded. The alicorn sighed and glared down at him from her velvet cushions padding the dais she enjoyed looking down on others from. Flam hadn’t thought it possible, but she looked even more ostentatious with greater amounts of gild and fine silks, in bright reds, oranges, and yellows. The whole thing was bordering on garish. “What is it now, Flim?” she asked. “I’m Flam…” “Whatever.” “Er… well, it’s just that you haven’t been doing any of your royal duties lately-” “Who are you to dictate to me my duties, worm?!” Celestia sat bolt upright, flaring her wings. Flam blanched at the sight of them; they were losing their feathers, becoming spindly, fleshy things with spines that made his stomach churn. The teeth in her mouth had become sharper, more pronounced, like fangs, and her eyes had returned to that dark hue he had hoped he’d imagined. “Cameloo has invaded Saddle Arabia!” Flam continued, “We need to do something!” “Ugh,” Celestia rolled her eyes, “Can’t those sand-shufflers solve their own problems for once? I swear, if it’s not Saddle Arabia whining about the camels, it’s Germane mewling about their crop shortages.” “Th-that’s another thing,” Flam chuckled without mirth, “the crop shortages are causing a famine, and there are reports of… um…” “Spit it out, Sham,” Celestia scowled. “There are reports of windigos, Your Majesty,” Flam swallowed hard, “Rumors from the north that the cold is creeping in, sightings of wolfish beasts in the snowy winds. It’s only October. Even in Germane it shouldn’t be that cold.” “It’s probably the pegasi being lazy in their work,” Celestia spat, “Pegasus and earth pony city-states are breeding grounds for dissent, always complaining about how they have to work… Not like unicorns. Model citizens, unicorns.” “Yes, well,” Flam coughed into his hoof, “I suppose they are just… rumors.” “Exactly,” Celestia chuckled, “Anything else?” “The attack on Saddle Arabia, Your Majesty…?” “They can hold the line,” Celestia sighed again, “If it bothers you so much, get the Diet to do something about it.” “I’m just a member of the Friendly Finances Bureau,” Flam pointed out, “I’m not even a noble! I have no authority in the Diet!” “Hmm?” Celestia arched an eyebrow then called over one of her secretaries, “You there. By my order, Flam is to be raised to nobility and given a seat on the Diet. Understood? Here is my seal. Ensure the paperwork is done properly or I’ll see you in iron-wrought chains.” The secretary gulped, nodded, and galloped off. “Within the hour you’ll have your authority,” Celestia smirked, “So get out there and make things happen. I don’t want to see you back here until you have nothing but good news to report, understood?!” “Y-yes Tia…” Flam kowtowed before skulking away. His heart felt like lead. Perhaps if he could solve the Saddle Arabian situation his beloved Empress of the Day would return back to normal? Celestia watched him leave, feeling something very deep inside her, locked away. She couldn’t seem to smother the candle flame of her former self, but she could contain it. Reflecting on herself she remembered she had to meet Cadance at the train station within the hour. Seeing her transformation in a mirror, she cringed. Somehow she knew that, under normal circumstances, her apotheosis would be instantaneous – one minute a pure alicorn, the next a demonic thestral – but she was actively attempting to suppress the change, and seeing her body shift so slowly was disturbing. Focusing all of her willpower, she suppressed the changes, reverting back to her alicorn state with great difficulty. The change was becoming harder to suppress with each passing day. “Time to greet my favorite niece,” she sighed. … Pharynx felt like hatchling at feeding time, barely able to contain his excitement. He looked at the mass of warriors gathering in their camps at the foot of Griffonstone. Herds of yaks, flocks of griffons, and dragons too. They were so different… The yaks gathered in loose formations, hardly even deserving the word. The griffons on the other hand performed drills in serried ranks, focused on order and discipline. Finally, there were the dragons: independent warriors whose thick hides, hardened scales, claws, fangs, and fire made each one more dangerous than a dozen of the yaks and griffons combined. They had developed strategies for the three races to cooperate despite their different tactics. Usually the yaks served as the backbone of their force, supported by wings of griffon aerial support. The dragons were as independent as ever, going where they were needed either on land or in the sky. The only thing they lacked were magic users to counter the ponies’ greatest advantage, but their numbers and the surprising swiftness of their strike should be enough. He was all set to meet with Grigori and Garble when he heard a familiar voice behind him. “I don’t remember scheduling any drills for today,” Dragon Lord Ember stated as she approached, Prince Rutherford by her side. Pharynx could see from her expression that she knew exactly what was going on. “What do you think you’re doing?” Pharynx stayed silent, conflicted on how to act. Every impulse told him to lie, to try and come up with an excuse or an argument to defend their plan, but another part demanded why he should have to do that. This was the correct course of action, wasn’t it? There was no reason to be ashamed; the pro-war faction was not the villain. No, if anything it was Ember’s regime of catering to the ponies that was wrong. She and Rutherford had already lost control of the Orduud through their weakness. Still, his hesitation prompted Ember to continue. “Grigori is a fool for trying to start a war with the ponies,” she stated, “and you’re twice the fool for following him! You think that army down there can really conquer Equestria? It won’t even be able to stand up to one of the alicorns, let alone four!” “Your lack of faith in the Orduud is despicable,” Pharynx spat, “No wonder you lost control. We have a plan to take Canterlot while the Princesses – or whatever they’re calling themselves these days – are away. We’ll distract them, then seize the capital from under their muzzles! With Canterlot and their goddesses held hostage, the ponies will be forced to meet our demands.” “What are demands?” Rutherford asked. “Well, uh…” Pharynx blanked. He hadn’t actually been told what the demands were. Grigori had promised a war – conquest, riches, and glory – and that had been enough for most of them. “Whatever we want!” “Even if you could incapacitate their most powerful alicorns, that still leaves three others, and the Elements of Harmony. And the Pillars, wherever they are.” “The battle will be quick, and those halfwit heroes won’t even know Canterlot’s in danger until it’s too late,” Pharynx argued, “When we take the capital, the rest will fall.” “And plans to take Lunar Republic?” Rutherford asked, threateningly, “We saw them. You dishonor Orduud; try to conquer new nation while at war with old!” “Oh, so the ponies lose a few city-states!” Pharynx scoffed, “We’ll ransom them back in exchange for the donkey, zebra, and buffalo lands.” “What about Cameloo, huh?” Ember demanded, “We have reports they’re at war with Saddle Arabia, and we’ve seen your plans. There’s no support for the camels!” “Once we take the capital,” Pharynx repeated, growing irritated, “the ponies will make peace!” “Many promises,” Rutherford muttered, “Talk cheap.” “Yeah, well tomorrow night you’ll see that our actions are worth far more than cheap talk,” Pharynx snapped back, “Unless you two have some kinda muscle to stop us, I suggest you go back to your paperwork or whatever it is bureaucrats hide behind.” “Gah!” Ember raged, turning on her heel and leaving, “I should have had Thorax here instead!” Rutherford merely snorted in disdain, shaking his shaggy body, before turning and following Ember. With such a simple gesture, Pharynx realized, the Triumvirate had been dissolved. He knitted his brow in thought over that. Ember and Rutherford’s authority was gone, even in name, and with it his own. Grigori could seize power openly, but once the assault was over that might not be as clean-cut as it sounded. Grigori was old, weak, a schemer, and wasn’t even leading the attack. Once the fighting was over and the rule of might makes right instated, the dragons, yaks, and griffons would erupt into a feud over who should rule, and Pharynx knew even Grigori’s schemes couldn’t save the Orduud from the inevitable infighting… The changeling looked at the army again, now conscious of the likelihood they’d be at each other’s throats in a few weeks. Was there a leader strong enough to unite them all? ... Spike fidgeted at the post office entrance, trying to make himself smaller to draw less attention. He failed miserably. If he stood on his hind legs and craned his neck, his head could reach the roof of the single-story building. Normally this would have excited him, but his newfound size was hard to get used to. On the trip there he had broken a patio table and three windows on accident, earning him scowls of hatred from the increasingly pony-supremacist elitists running Canterlot’s business. He couldn’t even fit into most buildings anymore! Fortunately, his filly-friend could. “Sorry Spike,” she sighed in her southern drawl as she exited the building, “still no mail from Twilight, for you, Starlight, or Trixie. The mare at the desk said Ponyville was still a little unstable, what with Flutterhy’s secession and that riot that happened over the vote. Maybe Twilight’s duties as a Princess are keeping her busy?” “Maybe,” Spike sighed, though he hadn’t gotten his hopes up, “She might also be having trouble without an assistant. I mean, she’s had me by her side since her school days!” “That is a long time,” Apple Bloom nodded, sagely, “Hey, I got an idea!” “What’s that?” Spike asked. “Well, since classes got canceled awhile back and all I have going on is my job as – heh-heh – Secretary of Administration, we could visit Ponyville for a few days!” the filly suggested, looking up at her now-towering drake-friend. When he returned to all fours he wasn’t much taller than Discord until he sat upright; that new neck of his really added some height. “That’s a great idea, AB!” Spike gave a fanged grin which terrified, awed, and excited Apple Bloom in equal measure. The dragon frowned suddenly. “Except I don’t think I can fit on the train anymore.” “If only you had wings,” Apple Bloom tsked. “Funny you should mention that,” the dragon chuckled, “Apparently we get those at the onset of puberty, but I have no idea when that would be for dragons.” “It’s something to look forward to, at least,” Apple Bloom giggled. “Maybe they can hook up a freight car?” Spike tapped his chin, “No matter. We’ll get there somehow.” “I reckon we could join Flim on his vacation to Ponyville in a few weeks,” Apple bloom suggested, “That’d give us time to properly plan.” Their conversation was interrupted by a familiar thestral landing before them. Spike struggled not to bow. It was a good thing he did, too; in his newer form, he wasn’t sure he knew how to bow anymore. Night Bane studied the dragon a moment before looking down at the filly. “Madame Secretary,” he nodded in greeting, “I’ve gathered the former members of the Night Guard interested in joining the Lunar Republic’s army.” “Whoa, what’s all this about?” Spike blinked, “Army? Former Night Guard?” “You didn’t tell him?” Night Bane arched an eyebrow at Apple Bloom. “The Lunar Republic is building an army to help Saddle Arabia fend off the invasion from Cameloo,” the filly explained quickly, “Night Bane and some of the other Night Guard are volunteering to train them. They, uh… got laid off.” “Really?” the dragon raised his eyebrows in surprise. “No!” Night Bane scoffed, then regained composure, “I mean… Luna suggested some of us retire and seek other ways our skills could benefit pony-kind.” “So she encouraged you to quit the Night Guard and join the Lunar Republic?” Spike smirked at Luna’s blatant support for the nation she couldn’t officially join. “I didn’t quit,” Night Bane scowled, I retired. This was the request of my Princess, even if she refuses to acknowledge the title, so I follow it.” “You’re a lot more… open now,” Spike noted. “I’m no longer in the service,” Night Bane smirked, “technically I’m something of a mercenary now, so I don’t need to act like I have a training sword up my butt the whole time.” Spike’s face flushed at the crass humor, but Apple Bloom laughed loudly at the joke. The dragon had always found it odd how the Crusaders always held a much cruder sense of humor than he did. Sweetie Belle was by far the worst, but none of them were exactly squeaky-clean. Finally, something from earlier clicked in Spike’s head and he turned on his filly-friend. “Wait, we’re at war with Cameloo?!” he demanded. “So far it’s just Saddle Arabia,” Apple Bloom explained, slightly startled, “The camels swooped out of the desert separating their cities, from what I heard. Celestia hasn’t responded yet.” “The Night Guards who have followed me into retirement didn’t need much convincing,” Night Bane grunted, “Word around the barracks is that there are no orders to mobilize the Guard. The nobles and the Diet are too busy debating whether or not it’s worth the effort, and no one has seen the Empress in days. Well, no one other than Flam and a few servants she has sequestered away.” “Does Luna know?” Spike asked, “Surely she can do something. She’s an Empress too, isn’t she?” “Unfortunately, the title itself doesn’t carry much weight,” Apple Bloom explained, “See, Luna’s openly opposed the Empire and Celestia, and has rejected the title. The Diet, the nobles, and the Imperial Guard pay her lip service, so to speak, but won’t do a thing she says.” “So the Diet is just going to argue until Celestia orders them to do something?” the dragon gaped, “Wow, that’s a horrible system.” “You’re preaching to the choir,” Night Bane grunted, “I’m just glad the same thing didn’t happen in the Republic.” “How long until you guys are ready to help Saddle Arabia?” Spike asked. “Well, our recruiting drive just started, but ponies in all five city-states are galloping in to serve, and message is circulating in Imperial city-states, too,” Night Bane said, “The recruiting process is modeled on the old Royal Guard system, so I’d say recruiting and processing will take… a month or so?” “Can Saddle Arabia hold out that long?” Apple Bloom asked. “I’ve served in one of the skirmish campaigns between Saddle Arabia and Cameloo,” the thestral looked glassy eye with memory for a moment, “The camels are tough fighters, experts in desert warfare, but so are the Saddle Arabians. They’ll keep fighting even if they lose all their cities, raiding out of the desert. I have no doubt they’ll last months, if not years, on their own.” The youths took the veteran’s word on the matter and with nothing else to discuss, they departed. “I need to get back to work soon, Spike,” Apple Bloom said, “I hope you can find something to entertain you until the next time we meet?” “I’ll see if Scootaloo’s busy,” Spike replied. “I said something, not some girl,” Apple Bloom chided. Spike looked down at the filly in surprise, then cracked a wry grin. “Wait, are you jealous of me hanging out with Scootaloo?” he asked. “Hay no!” Apple Bloom scoffed, “Well… maybe a little. I mean, you spend a lot of time with her, and I’ve always gotten the feeling you don’t… feel that way for me. I can’t help but feel paranoid about you hanging out with other fillies.” The dragon was silent for a moment, unsure how to respond. The truth was he didn’t feel that way for Apple Bloom. Yet. He was confident the more time they spent together, the more chance there was for true love to… bloom. Sure, he spent a lot more time with Scootaloo than his filly-friend, but that was because she was fun to hang out with and the only pony in Canterlot not picking a side. “Do you feel that way about me?” Spike asked, feeling stupid as soon as he said it. He expected Apple Bloom to angrily round on him, to chew him out and remind him that she was the one who confessed, but instead she actually contemplated the question, a guilty look on her face for some reason. “That’s a stupid question,” she said, almost absentmindedly, “I gotta go to work, Spike. Talk to you later, alright?” “Uh… alright,” the dragon lowered his snout so they could rub noses briefly, though it lacked warmth. Once she disappeared, he groaned in agitation at his stupidity. “When am I going to understand girls?” “Probably never,” Scootaloo spoke up, prompting the dragon to turn around and wrap his neck around the corner of the nearest building. Sure enough, in a cart in the alleyway, lay the pegasus, snacking on an apple. She gave a smirk and a nod. “’Sup?” “How long have you been eavesdropping?!” Spike hissed out. “Eavesdropping?!” Scootaloo feigned offense, jackknifing to her haunches, “I’m just taking a break from my job!” “Oh, that’ ridic-” the dragon began, then paused, “Wait, what job?” “Since Sweetie and AB are busy most of the time and classes got canceled,” Scootaloo explained briefly, “I’ve been working as a delivery filly for a fruit store. I’m the fastest deliverer in the city, thanks to my scooter.” “Why not just go back to Ponyville?” the dragon asked, “I mean, I know the other Crusaders are your best friends, but why not go home and hang out with Rainbow Dash, or your other classmates, or your family, or-” Scootaloo blanched at the mention of her family and interrupted, saying “Hey, why don’t you go back to Ponyville? I mean, at least I got a job! What are you doing except tanking with your relationships?” Spike winced back, scowling. The pegasus flinched, realizing her words had come out way worse than she meant them to. She rubbed the back of her head, knowing she needed to say something quick or he’d run off to brood and she’d lose the only friend in Canterlot that wasn’t too busy to hang out with her. Realizing she had nothing else to say than the truth, she decided to open up. “Sorry,” she sighed, “I just… I don’t want to go back to Ponyville.” Spike raised an eyebrow, but by this expression she could tell he wasn’t any closer to forgiving her, so she continued. “Look, this is a really personal subject. I’m serious, it’s a secret I’ve kept from everybody except Rainbow Dash,” she said, “and before you ask, no it’s not my crush on Rumble.” When she thought about the gray pegasus she found her attractions waning fast. Even the idea of Sweetie Belle dating him didn’t bother her anymore; he was a good friend, but that was about it now. Now Spike was interested, so she took a deep breath before continuing. “I don’t want to see my parents again,” she confessed. Spike blinked, then shook his head. “You have parents?” the dragon asked. He got the impression she was a homeless orphan, but in retrospect that didn’t make sense since she could clearly afford to be clean, fed, and maintain her scooter. “Why wouldn’t you want to see them? They don’t… they don’t abuse you, do they?” “I wish,” Scootaloo confessed, “even that would be a relief. No, they don’t do anything to me, or for me. My entire life, they’ve always been too busy for me. They leave me with a really neglectful babysitter, like 90% of the time – I’m not even joking! – and they’ve forgotten my birthdays at least four times. Why do you think I’m out of the house so much?” “That’s terrible,” Spike said. Scootaloo was about to snap at him about pity, but she saw in his eyes and actual empathy and understanding that made her pause. “Why do I get the feeling you understand what I’m going through?” she asked. “I never knew my parents, so I’ve always had these little fantasies about what it would be like if I ever met them,” Spike chuckled, scratching his cheek, then he frowned, “but then something occurs to me… There’s only three ways my egg could have ended up with Celestia: either it was stolen, or lost, or… sold.” Scootaloo frowned, too. “I have fantasies that my parents loved me, but I’ve seen how dragons were and I’m not so sure. I doubt Celestia would buy a stolen egg – and she certainly wouldn’t steal one herself! – but I also doubt a dragon would misplace an egg. The only logical solution, then, is that my parents… sold me.” “Spike, you don’t know that…” Scootaloo said, softly. “True,” the dragon chuckled, “but that’s not the point. The point is, I might not have parents, and I’ve fantasized about having a family, but I’ve also brooded on being neglected by said family. I haven’t experienced it, like you, but I’m more familiar with the idea than most others.” “I really am sorry for snapping at you earlier,” Scootaloo sighed, “you didn’t deserve that.” “It’s fine,” he smiled, “To be honest, I’m glad you’re staying in Canterlot. I’d miss you if you left.” Ba-dump. Scootaloo blinked, face paling. Did her heart just skip a beat? Uh-oh. “Anyway, did you want to hang out?” the dragon smirked, “I bet I could beat you at sparring now.” “No!” Scootaloo blushed as she heard her voice hit a new octave, “I mean, I have so many more deliveries to make before I’m off work, and then I have to meet Sweetie Belle for… uh… a pie… contest.” “Oh, that sounds cool,” Spike said, “Is it a baking contest or an eating contest? Can I sign up?” “Er…” Scootaloo shut her eyes in frustration. Why had she said a pie contest? “It’s… the number pi?” “…The number pi?” Spike deadpanned, “Is that the best you’ve got?” “…Yeah.” Spike laughed loudly, his deeper voice splitting the air like a thunderstorm. Scootaloo felt her wings pomf for an instant, but she got them under control before her noticed. “Look, if you and Sweetie Belle want to gush about Rumble, it’s none of my business,” he said with a smirk, “but you should come up with a better lie than that.” “R-right,” she chuckled, weakly, “A-anyway, I’ve gotta go.” “Sure,” Spike nodded, “I’ll see what Trixie is up to. She’s in the same boat as me, last I remember.” “Sounds good!” the pegasus fled on her scooter, shouting back “Good luck with that!” The dragon shook his head, amused, but then turned his efforts to looking for the only friend he had left who wasn’t busy. ... The train pulled into the station and once all the regular ponies had emptied their cars, a carpet was rolled out, the Imperial Guard flanking either side. Cadance exited the private train car dedicated to royalty, holding herself with regal poise as she was greeted with trumpets and fanfare. She kept her shock hidden at the sight of the martial display and masses of cheering ponies. It was larger, with more soldiers and the civilians seemed to force their excitement, but this alone was not too shocking. No, what truly surprised her was her aunt. Celestia waited in a gilded chariot, wearing a fine silk dress of fiery red beneath a suit of golden armor, etched with glyphs that blazed with magic. Atop her head, in place of her old tiara, was a new crown of electrum. A slot rested in the center, allowing the Empress of the Day’s horn to fit through, and this was flanked by eight golden horns – four on either side – to create the illusion of a sun. Aside from this, Celestia was nearly draped in gold and silver jewelry, bejeweled from horn to hoof in rubies, topaz, and diamonds that made her look ablaze. Beside her was a mustachioed stallion who, despite his own ostentatious finery, looked thoroughly whipped. The Princess of Love could sense there was a problem there involving the heart. Cadance worried internally if, perhaps, Luna had not exaggerated Celestia’s condition. She kept all of her anxiety hidden, of course, with an ease that could only be achieved through years as a practiced states-pony. Once she reached the chariot, she made sure to bow low and gracefully to the Empress. “Princess Cadance,” Celestia purred out, too predatory for the Princess’ liking, “it is a pleasure to see you. Luna gave me such short notice – I hope this little greeting I threw together isn’t too pathetic? An Alicorn Ruler deserves only the greatest of introductions.” “It’s actually a little much, Aunt Tia,” Cadance giggled, but the laughter died when she noticed Celestia’s expression darken, “But it’s very thoughtful. Thank you, it is an honor.” “Of course it is,” Celestia’s smile returned, “You will be the first Princess to reaffirm your oaths in person. You even beat Twilight to it; aren’t you lucky?” “I… came to visit family and have a diplomatic meeting with leaders of the Lunar Republic,” Cadance said, “I wasn’t told about any reaffirming of oaths.” “I need to ensure your loyalty,” Celestia motioned for her to join them in the chariot, “You see, Luna has rejected her title of Empress, and is openly supporting dissent among my subjects. She has the Republic building a military, of all things!” “Surely there’s a reason?” Cadance asked, gaping at the very notion of an army being built up. “Cameloo-” Flam began, but was silenced by a glare from Celestia so threatening that even Cadance flinched back. “Ignore him,” the Empress stated flatly, “Suffice it to say, there’s an incident occurring in the east – rumors, really – and the traitors are using the opportunity to make gains through conquest.” “That doesn’t sound…” Cadance began, but grew quiet at her aunt’s withering gaze, “Aunt Lulu would never support a regime like that.” “I thought she’d never betray me, once upon a time,” Celestia gave a snide smirk, “she is full of surprises, that one.” The carriage made it inside the castle grounds before the Empress spoke up again. “Will the rest of your family be joining us tomorrow for Nightmare Night?” she asked, “I’ve planned for the festivities to be quite educational this year.” “I was worried the city might be too dangerous for Flurry Heart, but security has certainly improved,” Cadance dressed her criticism up as a compliment, “What do you mean by ‘educational’?” “As you know, Nightmare Night celebrates the vanquishing of Nightmare Moon, and my sister’s banishment to the moon for her crimes,” Celestia explained, “I intend to make sure ponies remember it is a night to remember treason.” “It’s evolved beyond that,” Cadance argued, “It’s a holiday about costumes, treats, and harmless scares now.” “It’s lost its true meaning,” Celestia ground out, “I would delight in seeing my grandniece tomorrow. Won’t you humor me?” Cadance opened her mouth, then closed it again. She thought it over before nodding once. “I’ll send word to Shining Armor and Sunburst as soon as I have the time.” “Excellent!” Celestia almost cackled. Cadance’s eyes watched the gates close behind them, guarded by dozens of stony-faced guards. The castle grounds were filled with soldiers, pompous nobility, and servants trying to make themselves as small as possible, afraid to look up. The sight was heart-wrenching, but Cadance dared not speak up. Everywhere she looked was a sight of blind obedience, haughty command, or silent resignation. How had everything fallen so far so quickly? Cadance jumped a little when her aunt spoke again, taking her by surprise. “Tomorrow will be a night to remember,” the Empress purred out, and for the briefest of seconds, Cadance could have sworn… …something was different with her eyes.