//------------------------------//
// Making Way 
// Story: Inward Eyes Wide Open 
// by Thought Prism 
//------------------------------//

I stepped through the flickering portal, leaving Ponyville behind and reappearing in the middle of my Canterlot estate. My medallion's power cut off as soon as I was fully past the threshold, leaving no noise save for the clack of my hooves on the polished hardwood floor. The study was as I'd left it, which was to be expected. Not a speck of dust could be found on the cherrywood desk, or the highbacked reading chairs. Finally, I could resume some semblance of normalcy. And yet, despite this peace, and the almost euphoric rush that had come with the return of my stolen magic, I found myself rooted in place. All had been resolved; the psychotic filly was now where she belonged. After a substantial delay, work must resume. However, something in the back of my mind stopped me from tackling now urgent tasks.

Perhaps I was just tense. Understandable, given all I've suffered through of late. Shedding my cloak and placing it on a nearby coat hook with a small flourish of telekinesis, I shuffled over to the small standing bar, where a bottle of 883 vintage Bronze Hills scotch waited. I poured a generous amount into a crystal glass - with no ice, it improperly dulls the flavor - and seated myself. Taking a sip, I stared at the amber liquid, though my focus was elsewhere.

Could I be... anxious? Such mundane stresses typically gave me a wide berth, my mind occupied by larger concerns. My position is quite secure, despite the audacity of young Princess Twilight. Though I hold nothing against her as pony, far from it, she and I have rather different ideas when it comes to curriculum and teaching methodology. However, she doesn't have the power over the EEA. Such is my domain, as friendship is hers. At least for now.

I swirled the scotch in my aura before taking a second drink. Friendship. To think, I would be saved from nefarious clutches by motley group of creatures, no two alike in race. Canterlot, deep in the heart of Equestria, saw relatively few visitors from afar. Especially outside the various Galas, which were frankly not worth attending. So, practically all of my experiences with non-ponies before Twilight opened her school were certainly quite negative. 

A bitter snort escaped me as the painful memories resurfaced. A few years ago, my butler revealed himself as a grotesque insectoid monster, pinning me down out of nowhere and cocooning me in a claustrophobic pod of sticky ooze. Later, a rampaging giant with too many limbs had eaten my very life force, leaving me practically unable to move even without any bindings. And then, an entire army of hairy beasts flew in by airship, stripped me down, and threw me in chains along with the rest of the city! I mean, really, who would blame me for being suspicious of the sudden influx of foreign creatures to study under our nation's greatest champion after all that? What other conclusion could I have drawn?

Evidently, though, non-ponies weren't all bad. That being the case... how come I'd never heard of any good examples? My head rose, this thought a particularly troublesome one, as I faced the wall opposite me. There rested a bookcase, filled with a carefully curated selection of impactful nonfiction works. I scanned the spines, suddenly noting a pattern among many of the titles. The Unabridged History of Equestria, Equestrian Geography, Scientific Advancements of Ponykind. While comprehensive in scope, that scope, in many cases, nevertheless ended at Equestria's borders.

Suddenly tense, I downed the rest of my libation in one great gulp, setting the glass aside. Until today, I'd been operating under the inference that the reason for Equestria's isolationist tendencies was that the other races of the world were irrelevant. While not necessarily inferior to ponies, they were still discussed rarely, treated as unimportant. 

I could feel my brows furrowing. In point of fact, I could not recall ever learning much of other intelligent creatures over the course of my lifetime, from foalhood through university. Casting a look to the side, I hummed aloud in perplexity. Above my desk hung multiple framed diplomas: doctorate degrees in law, economics, and education. If somepony as highly learned as me had such little exposure to other races, odds were good most everypony was taught the bare minimum on the subject. That begged the question: why? And how did we reach such a poor state?

I knew that the EEA guidelines did not mandate the addition of álogology* to the curriculum of every school, of course. As a relatively advanced, niche subject, it was only defined in a subsection. The fault, then, mayhap lies with the individual institutions. But, most teachers simply teach what has come to be commonly accepted as required learning and nothing more. Ponies tend to focus their efforts on the sole pursuit with which their talent aligns from a young age; there is little point in expanding beyond that save curiosity. 

Who sets the standards, though? It is ponies like myself, the elite, I realized with some shock. The commonfolk look up to us, follow our example almost as much as they do that of the princesses, and they aren't the problem. Celestia is only one pony, after all. She can only do so much by herself. That's why she appoints chancellors to control various institutions in the first place, usually the most qualified pony for the job based on merit. I achieved my position in that exact manner, decades ago.

But did I deserve my seat? Though it also slipped past all of my predecessors, I too neglected to pick up on a blind spot in Equestrian schooling so massive you could fit a future fear-fueled genocide campaign through it. The tradition of keeping our intellectual pursuits focused inwards likely started out with the same ignorance it now perpetuates, and it merely persisted to the present day out of habit. This despite the clear benefits to the alternative in unique viewpoints, unknown arts, and, yes, friendship. Could Equestria have been even more prosperous today had we opened our minds to outsiders centuries ago? We will never know, and the blame lies, in part, with me.

I let out a shuddering breath, leaning against the armrest, shaken. Would I really continue business as usual, now? This fresh revelation imbedded in my mind cast my every prior action into doubt. The fineries in every corner of my study now seemed to taunt me with their superficial nature, evoking my skin-deep success. What other missing or unknown factors were impeding my judgement? How qualified was I, truly? Did I have enough wisdom to accompany my great knowledge, to wield such control over a critical aspect of pony life? 

Finding myself unable to reach satisfactory answers to these questions, I knew what must be done. 





When my conclusion had not changed after a long night of sleep, I resolved to follow through immediately. As soon as I had fed, dressed, and groomed, I raised my medallion for the last time, forming a gateway directly to the heart of Canterlot Castle. Baffled faces and surprised whispers greeted me on the other side, the throne room filled with a long line of ponies, largely of the pompous, noble persuasion. Only the beauty of the morning light filtering through the windows and bathing the marble floor in color saved the dignity of the space. Princess Celestia, flanked by her adjutants and administrative aides, sat upon her throne, its silver counterpart empty, as she presided over the start of Day Court, her own routine ever stable even after a most dire crisis. Her brows rose as I entered, the reflexively lowered spearpoints of the guards retracting as their wielders recognized me.

"Why, Chancellor Neighsay, it is unusual of you to simply drop in unannounced like this," Princess Celestia said, her voice silencing the murmuring throng.

I gave a shallow nod of acknowledgement. "Indeed. However, this is an important matter, and I believe the in all likelihood petty concerns of these single-minded supplicants can wait, your highness."

As the amassed nobles gasped at my perceived gall, the princess covered what I suspected was a smirk of great amusement behind a hoof. "Well then," she began. "In that case, I suppose I should hear you out, then, shouldn't I?" 

Now came the difficult part. I met Celestia's warm eyes with mine, wondering what she saw in them. "I have come to officially tender my resignation as Chancellor of the EEA."

It was the princess' turn to gasp. "Really? I mean, that is fine, of course. Your service to the country is not forced. But what brought this on, if I may ask?"

My lips pursed as I struggled how best to word a succinct response. "I suppose it is because Equestria has changed for the better, in ways I had not considered possible, and I am ashamed of my own foolishness." Pausing, I passed the medallion to Celestia, and the aura surrounding the artifact turned from orange to gold as she accepted it. "In this new age, the EEA needs somepony with a matching perspective, one I do not believe I can adopt without lingering bias. My educator's heart would not let me ignore this truth once I'd found it."

At this, Princess Celestia's ears perked as she looked me over with that uniquely concerned gaze of hers. I stood, unwavering, as she mulled over what I'd told her. Eventually, she must have deemed my explanation satisfactory, as a soft smile formed on her muzzle. "I understand. Thank you for bringing this to my attention so quickly... Neighsay. I will begin the search for a suitable replacement immediately. I think I already know just the 'unicorn' to ask, though I'm not sure she'll agree."

I blinked at her odd choice of emphasis, but didn't linger on it. "Excellent. I am glad you accept my decision, your highness. I shall not take up any more or your precious time." After dipping into a shallow bow of respect, I turned around, slowly trotting towards the exit the old-fashioned way. 

However, as the entitled attendees of court lanced me with their annoyed glares, fresh anger rose within my breast, and I stopped momentarily to share some last words, knowing full well they would likely go unheeded by those listening. "All of you would be wise to turn some fraction of your attention beyond this single city and its rulers for once, lest you find yourselves missing other individuals and matters of immense impact." 

After a final huff, I departed with quiet grace, leaving those gossiping fools, the throne room, and my tenure as Chancellor behind for good. I wasn't quite sure what I would do with myself from now on, but I could rest easy knowing the EEA would be in better hooves going forward. Ones more suited to stepping into the bright future Twilight Sparkle and her friends had carved out for all of us.