Flanked on both sides, Dandelia paid no mind her to escorts as she was led into Bank Square. Of course he would be here, at this place, as this place was once his headquarters. Mariner Financial & Trust had been stripped of its name, its branding, and the enormous anchor adorning the front had been pulled down just after the failed coup. Where else would he go to lick his wounds, but to the place that had once been his palace?
From the looks of it, the building was quite damaged, but seemed structurally sound, at least at the moment. Even damaged, it was quite a structure, a distinct feature of the Manehattan skyline. Just a hair over one-thousand feet tall, it was the world’s tallest brick building, with about eightyish or so floors. Some called it a wonder of the world, but in Dandelia’s opinion, the brick and glass building was tacky—just like Mariner.
Then, she saw him; he stood near the front entrance, surrounded by a dozen or more of his fellows. When he saw her, he started moving right away, and she could not help but notice that his face showed signs of relief. Of course it did; a peasant posing as a prince. How it must trouble his mind, and how comforting it must be to be back in the presence of one’s betters. It took effort to keep her face neutral, because she wanted nothing more than to sneer with contempt.
“Lady Dandelia—”
“I am Princess Emeritus of the Night Court, She who ruled in Princess Luna’s stead until her return.” Dandelia’s words were cold, frozen, and utterly lacking in emotion. She drew herself up to her full impressive height, as was befitting a royal, and then she leveled her gaze upon the approaching earth pony wearing an alicorn’s skin, a contemptible monster that would have to be put down.
But now was not the right moment.
Tilting her head slightly, she looked up at the phallic monument that Mariner had built for himself; feeling disgusted, she did not look at it for long, and with a snort, she brought her gaze to rest upon Mariner once more, who seemed to be struggling. His face was a bit twitchy and there was a bloody gash along his jawline.
“Things have not gone to plan,” Mariner said, stating the obvious.
“Where is my grandson?” she demanded, her tone firm, spoken in much the same way that one spoke to a servant that was a colossal disappointment. She saw Mariner wince, and silently celebrated that she could wear away at his confidence.
“The sorcerer undid our unity with words,” Mariner replied as his head shook from side to side. “I thought it to be a matter of willpower, but I was wrong. Even weakened as he was, the sorcerer has a curious power. He turned us against one another. Many were swayed by his silver tongue and there was a huge fight. Some questioned my leadership. My vision. I do not know where the sorcerer is at the moment, but I am planning to recapture him.”
Willpower. To his credit, Mariner had remarkable willpower. Earth pony willpower. Dandelia studied her father’s former business partner, noted each and every facial tic, and was somewhat impressed at how calm Mariner seemed to be. From what little that was known, most Ascendency alicorns were volatile and more than a little insane. It didn’t take much to provoke them, and to cause them to fly into a rage.
“I miss Caper,” Mariner mentioned, his expression now one of exquisite sadness. “His counsel was invaluable. There was no finer business partner. Without him, none of this would be possible. He was just the investor I needed to realise my dreams. Well, both he and Lord Sunfire. Both are males of means…” His words trailed off, he blinked a few times, ground his teeth, and then looked Dandelia right in the eye.
“Have you come to join me?”
Jaw firm and set, Dandelia somehow kept her cool. “Just what is it that you hope to accomplish?”
Mariner twitched, and his wings rustled against his sides. For a brief moment, it seemed as though he might explode, as if he was containing something that threatened to come bursting out of his skin. His eyes turned glassy, as if a torrent of tears might come rushing out at any moment, and the pavement cracked, split, and crumbled beneath his hooves when he stomped.
“Why should godhood be exclusive to princesses?” he said at last, his every word reedy, almost a shrill whine. “The lottery of destiny is cruel and untenable. Why should one be born with the destiny to be a pauper and another born to move the sun? It is all so senseless… so meaningless. You yourself… what makes you fit to rule, other than birth? Some strange quirk of fate? This city is built upon the suffering of those born to be paupers… and I have come to put an end to all this. When we are all gods, when we can all choose our futures, we shall be free.”
What drivel.
What dreck.
So infuriated was she, that Dandelia wasn’t even sure where to begin. Some had to rule, while others had to serve. Such was the way of things. Then there was the matter of Mariner’s hypocrisy; he proclaimed himself the leader of his band of malcontents and ruled over them with an iron hoof—or did, until encountering Sumac. It took all of her willpower to suffocate a furious laugh, and maintaining her neutral expression was exhausting.
“The Lord of the Sunfire Barony is quite an enlightening fellow,” Mariner said to Dandelia. His words were only a little screechy, and so far, he seemed to be holding everything together. “An earth pony… just as I once was. What dreadful quirk of fate caused him to be born as such? Why was he denied the privilege of magic? Of power? Why was one born to rule put into such a humble body devoid of power?”
Dandela felt her ears twitching, and was annoyed that she couldn’t stop them. Earth ponies had magic—exceptionally powerful magic. Princess Celestia moved around the sun and planets with earth pony magic. She had trouble holding back her distaste, and with each passing second, she became more and more convinced that Mariner was an idiot of the worst sort. Just being in close proximity to him made her brain ache. Why, Lulamoon Hollow’s very existence was owed to the earth ponies, who kept the land fertile without the sun. White hot contempt made her neck prickle, and for a time, she considered schooling Mariner in the ways of magic.
Unicorns might bend and control reality, but earth ponies held dominion over life.
Tongue-tied, tongue dried, and with her lips feeling like cracked parchment, Dandelia considered her options. This was not a situation favourable to her, but she held some advantages. These… imposters wearing alicorn skins were not well-schooled in magic. They were all brute force, with undisciplined telekinesis as their primary weapons. From what little that was known, from Prince Blueblood’s intelligence report, most did not have even a rudimentary understanding of spellcraft, or even the remedial understanding of those who’d completed magical kindergarten.
“After hearing the plight of the Lord of the Sunfire Barony, I was ever-more motivated to do something about the unfairness of all of this. We all deserve greatness… to live up to our full potential.” Mariner squirmed and his impressive muscles knotted beneath his skin. “The great gifts can be divided… split up and shared equally. Princess Celestia, we already know that her magic can be stolen from her. Taken. Why should only one pony have all that power? It should be taken from her and a fair portion given to all, equally.”
“So you think all of this is justified?” she said at last.
“I will confess, extreme measures had to be taken. Revolutions are hardly ever bloodless.” Mariner paused, his lip quivering, and his eyes turned glassy with tears once more. “You want to hear me say that I am a monster… well, I am. Do not think me foolish, I am fully aware of what I’ve become. All of this is necessary. How else could this happen? Righting this wrong was almost impossible, so I’ve taken the form of a creature that does the impossible as a daily occurence. This is just a first step, a clumsy one I’ll admit. We’re still learning how to walk.”
“How many foals have you destroyed to make this first step possible?” she asked.
Mariner’s expression turned to one of pained guilt. “Even one is too many. But necessary. I’ve had to step outside the bounds of ethics and morality. At the cost of a few lives, I can give millions a better future. I suppose you’re worried of Sumac’s fate. Regrettably, it is necessary. A sorcerer is a rare gift to the world. It cannot go to waste. With but one life, we can facilitate great change. Level the playing field. In the glorious future I’ve seen, these awful misdeeds are recognised as a small price to pay.”
Dandelia struggled to maintain her stony, stoic mask.
“Every single pony has the right to power.” Mariner struggled with his words, and his speech was halting. “Every single pony has the right to magic, to flight, and to great strength. As individuals, we are not whole. We’ve been parted out and made lesser, perhaps to keep us dependent upon the alicorns that rule us. Each of us exists as a mere part of a greater whole, and that is a dreadful crime against us. We deserve better. Every foal born deserves to know the joy of flight, the wondrous discovery of magic, and the stamina and strength of earth ponies.”
She found his words abhorrent, but hid her repulsed reaction. The others had let down their guard now; they were not a disciplined sort, not soldiers. Most of them weren’t even looking at her, or watching her for signs of treachery. Even Mariner had lowered his guard so that he might indulge himself in what he thought was a sympathetic ear. She had him monologuing, which meant that he was lulled into a sense of false security.
Dandelia Lion Lulamoon was a pony of an exceptional and storied bloodline. A princess by birthright. Before Princess Luna’s return, she had briefly sat upon the Throne of Night, and ruled the Night Court, just as her father had done. Her loyalties were to Equestria; not herself, and perhaps, not even to the Royal Pony Sisters. She was a devoted servant to the land, who also just so happened to serve the Royal Pony Sisters, as long as they too served the better interests of the land.
Mariner’s entire monologue reeked of self-serving selfishness.
She cast her stern gaze upon the city around her, a city now in ruins. Flames rose from whole neighborhoods, the sky was filled with acrid smoke that burned the eyes, and there was a blood-red haze obscuring the troubled sun. The cacophony of chaos could be heard all around them, the complete and utter lack of harmony. Dandelia had grown up troubled, never quite knowing her purpose. She never fully understood the point of life and living. Ruling was something thrust upon her, a duty, like having a foal and continuing her storied bloodline. It was something expected, demanded of her.
But today was not a day to rule, no.
Today was a day to serve.
Taking a deep breath, she made peace with what she was about to do, and hoped that another who also served would be able to return Sumac to Beatrix. Perhaps Blueblood would be successful, or Night Light. She paused when she thought of Night Light. He loved her, for all of her faults, he loved her. If only things had been different—if only she had been born different. She loved him, and Twilight Velvet as well. Together, the three of them had ruled the Night Court. She’d given them power, influence, and all the social capital she could muster.
Night Light would look after Beatrix and Sumac, she decided.
She had to look after Equestria.
“If I were to join you, what would be expected of me?” she asked.
Mariner blinked, hopeful.
“How might I serve this glorious future?”
A glimmer of hope blazed to life in Mariner’s eyes, his lips moved, and he struggled to respond. “Stability…” The word was almost stammered, and he had trouble spitting it out. “Not all of us have to go through the transition. We need somepony whole of mind… with clarity of mind… until we can get everything sorted out. Once we understand the process, you could ascend, of course, so that you too might share in your rightful reward.”
“So what I hear you saying is, you need somepony to bring about the stability of rule.”
Confusion flickered in Mariner’s eyes and he stood there, blinking and slack-jawed.
“You’re asking me… a born royal, to aid you in organisation. Is no one else up for the task? Who rules in this glorious future? Who is in charge? I hear you telling me not to transition, to remain as I am, so that clarity of mind is maintained and that my natural gifts, that of rulership, remain intact.”
Somehow, Mariner was now even more confused as he tried to make sense of what had been said. His lips flapped together, but no words came forth. When he blinked, he almost looked sleepy, as if he’d just woken up, and he was clearly having great difficulty forming a sentence. Dandelia reveled in his utter lack of response, she gloated that she’d exposed him for the simpleton that he truly was.
“I still remember our discussions over tea,” she said to him. “You had such entertaining ideas. Such notions of wealth and power, and what could be done with wealth and power.”
“Your father, Caper, he hoped that we would marry for practical reasons,” Mariner said as he worked to recover himself. “I must confess, I found you captivating.”
“Caper saw your true colours though, and distanced himself from you. He found out about you.” Dandelia felt a cold prickle in her belly, but refused to be ruled by fear. Not now. She’d spent too much of her life being afraid, and today was not a day to give in to fear. “His reputation suffered because of his associations with you.”
“I told him what I was planning,” Mariner confessed. “Well, some of it. I wanted to include him.”
“Sometimes, I wonder why he said nothing, and allowed all of Equestria to fall down when you made your grab for power. Blackmail? A misguided sense of friendship? Why did he abandon his sense of duty?”
“I’d like to believe that there was a part of Caper that believed I was in the right,” Mariner replied. “Just like I believe about you. I’ve always admired your intelligence, Dandelia. Beauty has never appealed to me. I’m not like other earth ponies. Always saw my sexual desires as a distraction, something to keep me from my goals. But there was something about you… about your mind.”
“Oh, I am flattered, Mariner.”
“I mean that sincerely, Dandelia.” Something that was almost a smile contorted his face unpleasantly. “Caper and I had a complicated relationship. We were business partners, but so much more. Co-conspirators, I suppose. He helped me and I helped him. I rigged the stock market while also feeding him inside knowledge. I paid him back for all that he’d given me. When I finally came into my own, I was able to finance all of Caper’s magical experiments and make his dreams come true.”
“Yes…” Dandelia almost hissed out the word. “My father’s… experiments.” She never knew much of what he’d done, because she felt better not knowing. Wizards experimented. In the old days, this was no big deal. A wizard experimented and all of magic benefited. But now, in these modern days, certain experimentations were frowned upon.
Caper did the frowny sort of magic.
“Caper once told me that he was a Dark in all but name, but I found myself in disagreement,” Mariner remarked. “Met quite a few of the Darks. All of them were quite mad. Lunatics, in the truest sense of the word. Caper didn’t quite shiver the skin like the Darks do. He was sane, for the most part. I do not wish to speak ill of my allies though. Without the Darks, I would have been discovered a whole lot sooner, and my plan exposed. They made this possible.”
Dandelia hardened her heart, looked Mariner right in the eye, and put on her best, most fetching smile. While she had graduated from Princess Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns, her real magical instruction came from several Dark tutors—family members trusted to teach her the Dark arts. While dark magic was frowned upon, and Dark magic even more so, Dandelia believed that such magic could, in fact, serve a noble purpose.
She had once saved her grandson with it, after all.
“Did you know that Caper had the Darks cast a hex on the Sunfire Barony? Lord Sunfire started making demands… wanting more and more in return for what he’d given. The final straw came when Lord Sunfire threatened to go whispering into Celestia’s ear. I still can’t believe that this was pulled off. It almost fell apart so many times, in so many ways. It does prove one thing though, one incontrovertible, fundamental fact.”
“And what would that be, Mariner?”
“Wealth, like magic, makes anything possible. I came to this country with nothing. Look at what I have done. What I have made happen. All of this”—he extended a hoof and waved at everything around him—“all of it, it was my doing. Even if I fail, which I don’t think is possible, so long as wealth exists, somepony else can pick up and continue my great work. Wealth is the great enabler. It is the only thing that can threaten the rule of the Royal Pony Sisters, and I have proven that beyond a shadow of doubt.”
“Are you suggesting that wealth is a greater force than magic?” she asked.
Mariner’s face brightened with a wry, twitchy smile. “Perhaps.”
Dandelia too, also smiled; she was going to show Mariner just how wrong he was…