"As much as I'd like for us to hang out, there are other things I need to do," Sundance said, and he made every effort to hide his twinge of guilt. "That's part of the job too. I have a new mouth to feed, I'm told. And by now, school must be out. Also, in the coming days, Megara the Lioness will be whipping me into shape so I can learn how to fight. I'll give this as much attention as I can spare."
Argyle's smile was warm and gracious. "You worry too much, friend. Do what needs done. Do not fret about me and my efforts to work myself into an early grave. The Crystal Empire's plan to build a hospital complex is brilliant, but flawed. Since I'm not doing much else at the moment, due to rather unfortunate circumstances, I do believe I will give this a good sorting out. This could be good for Fillydelphia as well."
This gave Sundance pause, and he considered his new friend's words. They were in need of warm bodies. Workers. Beyond just workers, they needed a township with service staff, hospitality workers to look after the needs of families that chose to stay at the hospital with those in recovery. Sundance's optimism, like the rising sun, cast a warm glow upon him, a reassuring sense that everything would be just fine and work itself out somehow.
Before he could say anything, Earwig breathlessly burst out of the stairwell and into the room proper. She'd barely come to a skidding halt while she spat out the words, "Pegasus courier. For your friend here. He just landed."
"Oh dear," Argyle said. "A bearer of bad news, no doubt."
"Maybe it'll be good news," said Sundance, who basked in the warm afterglow of his optimism.
"Doubtful." Argyle's face, a theatrical canvas, now appeared as though he drank unsweetened lemonade. "Detestable circumstances be damned. Some pack of fools probably burned down something else in Fillydelphia. Or perhaps that cancerous asylum exploded. Who knows what dire events have unfolded."
"Let's go and find out," Sundance suggested. "If it's bad news, we'll sort it out together."
The courier, as it turned out, was just a colt—a colt only barely into his adolescence. He stood on the grass near the yacht surrounded by the elder guardsponies, and when Argyle approached, the young colt bowed his head. The older guards, the retirees, had expressions ranging from solemn to grim—which didn't make Sundance feel good about the situation at all. Something about the contrast between old and young drove home the situation and tapped into the powerful cistern of emotion that existed at the bottom of Sundance's soul.
This news would not be good—but it might very well be expected.
Argyle composed himself with a short inhale, a pricking of his ears, and he stood a little taller. It was interesting to see how the refined earth pony handled himself, and Sundance wondered how much he might learn if he were to watch Argyle so that his mannerisms might be studied. By Sundance's own estimation, Argyle was everything a baron, a leader should be, and his behaviour inspired Sundance to be a better pony.
"Mister Ascot—"
"Please, just call me Argyle. Dispense with the formalities and get to the point."
"Mister Argyle Ascot… sir… I come with terrible news."
"I am no longer mayor of Fillydelphia," Argyle said, his voice flat and devoid of feeling. "What happened, exactly?"
"I don't know the full details," the colt replied, and it was obvious that he struggled to recall the details. "They tried to have a recall election from what I understand, but the city council voted against that measure. Then a group of judges, magistrates, and city officials declared a state of emergency. The city council was dismissed, a new council was appointed by the emergency committee, and then the new council and the emergency committee voted to remove you from office. Princess Twilight Sparkle sent a full report. It's in my bag."
"How very democratic of them." These words were a dry deadpan and Argyle practically spat them out one at a time. "I suppose my first act as Regional Governor will be to have them all removed from their positions. Though I reckon that will make everything worse. Anything else I should know?"
"I am to relocate you to Canterlot immediately," was the colt's hesitant response. "For your own safety. Intelligence suggests that threats have been made against—"
"Intelligence, indeed. As if I didn't get the message when the mob burned down my house with me and my family inside of it."
Quite without warning, Sundance's mouth surprised him with the following words: "He'll be staying right here."
"But I have orders—"
"And I am giving you orders," said Sundance.
"But I have orders," the colt insisted.
"Scout Pinfeather, this is a good defensible position," one of the elder guards said to the colt. "Nothing but wilderness for hundreds of miles in every conceivable direction. I daresay this is a safer location than Canterlot."
"Rats," another one of the old guards said.
"Yeah, those. Rats."
"But what about my orders?" asked the colt. "Princess Twilight Sparkle gave me very clear instructions."
"We'll send you home with a full explanation," one of the guards offered in return.
"But… orders," the colt stammered.
"While all of you sort this out, I must go and be with my family." Argyle stood so rigid and still that he didn't appear to be breathing. "Sundance… I thank you for your hospitality. It is a boon and a blessing in these troubled times. Now, I must beg your patience and forbearance, as I do not wish to be disturbed for a time. Good day to you, sirs."
"I understand," Sundance said while the young colt attempted to deal with the situation.
"Princess Twilight Sparkle attended my cute-ceañera" the colt said. "I don't want to disappoint her. Do you have any idea what I had to do to get appointed to her?"
"This is friendship business, Scout Pinfeather" an old guard said, his voice gruff and impatient. "The Princess of Friendship will understand. Argyle, before you go, you should get those documents in his bag. They might prove to be informative reading."
"Why yes, of course. Thank you."
"But… orders…"
As he headed for the orphan's bunkhouse, Sundance silently suffered a crisis of faith. As was so often the case during his moments of doubt, he thought of his mother. What might she say about this? She was an opinionated pony. It wasn't just Argyle being removed from office, but everything, every event that rippled outward in the chaotic string of consequences. In Sundance's own opinion, Argyle struck him as a good pony. His willingness to expose himself to Corduroy was all the proof that Sundance needed.
And a good pony was stripped of office for what?
For what good reason?
The world did not make sense to Sundance and during his moment of self-doubt, he could not help but wonder if Princess Celestia and her fellow royals should be given absolute control. Should the little ponies bend their knees to the larger? Equestria was tearing itself apart—and had the freedom to do so. It made him think of his own rule and as he hurried along, he felt the icy claws of doubt rake along the length of his spine. He had bumbled his way to success either by accident or fortunate circumstance; or perhaps a mix of both. What did he know of rule?
He seemed incapable of forming his own opinions, it seemed, and even now he focused on what his mother might think. It made him stop; he came to an abrupt halt and thought about what his mother knew. She was a little pony full of flaws and some truly wretched opinions. So why was it during a moment of crisis like this one that he thought about what she might think or how she might react?
Thoroughly disgusted with himself, he snorted and then stood there, shaking his head from side to side.
This was a world where the wicked prospered and the good were struck down. A world where the ultimate source of goodness stood passive for fear of accusations of tyranny. Sundance found himself living in a world of spoilt foals and a parent who lived in fear of their offsprings' temper. Princess Celestia would sit back and allow them to shit the bed, both metaphorically and literally. And then she would let them wallow in it.
For the briefest of instances, Sundance was overcome with intense inarticulate rage.
But the rage did not last long. He was not a pony given to rage, but rather, a creature given to passive contemplation. Was this how it started? Did he just experience a possible deviation from the well-lit path? A moment of rage, of hot, thoughtless anger, followed by how things should be. The lurid temptation of good intentions, along with the motivation to do things how Princess Celestia would surely want them done—if she took action. Is this how it started? Was this the way a pony stumbled off of the path?
His rage scared him—as well it should.
Sunbeam Shimmer operated on the principle of how things should be and that was her flaw. The metaphorical clouds parted and Sundance saw everything with perfect clarity. A great fire of calm was stoked within him, which burned away some of his dross. Now he understood the danger of anger, of rage, and a misguided sense of righteousness. Wary, now more so than ever, Sundance would not allow himself to be led astray from the well-lit path. Princess Celestia—his distant grandmother—had her reasons. Whatever those reasons were, he would respect them—even if perhaps he didn't agree with them.
After all, what did he know?
He was one of the bed shitters—a bed shitter put in charge of other bed shitters.
At least he knew and somewhat understood the motivations of his fellow bed shitters.
Now outside of the door of the bunkhouse, he paused for a moment to collect himself. Something within him had changed. Perhaps not a profound change. Maybe it was growth. It might be time to come out from beneath the shadow of his mother's wing. He had his own wings—and perhaps it was time to cast his own shadow. While he was not yet a parent, not a father in the way it mattered most, fate had seen fit to give him those in need of shelter. Not his offspring, but the barony's offspring.
Mindful of what they might learn from him, he pushed open the door…