//------------------------------// // Chapter 22 // Story: Sharing the Nation // by Cast-Iron Caryatid //------------------------------// — ✒ — “We were hoping that we could speak to you about that,” said one of the Celestias approaching from deeper into the castle, immediately setting all of the dragons on edge. “Oh yeah?” Ember said, discreetly fidgeting with the ring on her finger. “You may relax,” Candesca said. “We have not come to antagonize you. We were previously unaware of how the ring came into your possession, but now that we have been so informed, we recognize its validity as well as its necessity.” “Alright…” Ember hesitantly said, relaxing only a little and keeping an eye on the sister that hadn’t spoken. “What’s there to talk about, then?” Corona took half a step forward, clearly conscious of Ember’s scrutiny. “To start, we have in our custody two unconscious, injured dragons who have proven to be violent. They are already much more manageable than they were yesterday, which we thank you for, but I believe that you made a statement during your speech regarding how such dissenters would be treated, and there is no time like the present to show them that you are serious.” Ember silently considered the suggestion, and Spike figured that she would probably do it. Really, it was a good idea and he didn’t see any reason not to. “Indeed,” Candesca continued, nodding in the direction of the small, black dragon riding on Fluttershy’s back. “And considering their injuries, it would even be the compassionate thing to do.” “…Aaand you ruined it,” Ember said with a huff. “Fine, though. Might as well make an example of them.” The Celestias made no comment on Ember’s seeming lack of empathy and led the group out to the castle gardens where a small group of royal guards were standing watch over two very large piles of gauze with two of what now counted as adult dragons sleeping on top of them. Fluttershy passed an annoyed Slag off onto a somewhat bewildered Carnelia as she went to check on the unconscious dragons. Ember and the others were slower to approach, but morbid curiosity won out in the end. The first thing that Spike noticed actually had nothing to do with the dragons’ injuries, but was instead their appearance. When Ember had changed Spike and the others, she’d had a very specific look in mind. They weren’t anything resembling twins, but they were all built to a fine degree of slender athleticism with their own individual qualities differentiating them. That clearly wasn’t the case with the rest of dragonkind. They had still been de-aged to that special sweet-spot that would allow them to be either bipedal or quadrupedal, but everything else had much more in common with their original forms, which was to say, “They could use a diet.” “Well, call me avocado toast, then, because I know the perfect way for them to lose ten stone,” Ember joked, cracking her knuckles and preparing to chickenify a couple of jackasses. Everyone stared at her. “What?” she asked self-consciously. “How do you even know what avocado toast is?” Spike asked. Ember looked at Spike like he was an idiot. “Avocados come from the dragon lands. That’s why they look like dragon eggs. Avocado trees sneak them into dragon nests to trick dragons into incubating them.” Everyone continued to stare at her. “Uhh, Ember…” Spike had no way to respond to that. “I don’t think…” Ember rolled her eyes at Spike. “Oh, and I suppose you know the dragonlands better than me?” Spike wanted to roll his eyes right back at her. Instead, he looked expectantly to Slag and Carnelia. “Sorry, Ember” Carnelia hissed. “Yeah,” Slag agreed from in Carnelia’s arms. “Someone was pulling your leg.” Ember looked like she was about to continue being dismissive until she realized just who had chipped in. “Wait, really? You mean I—nevermind. Avocados still come from the dragonlands,” she told Spike, then immediately changed the subject. “Whatever. Let’s just get this done.” Ember stepped forward and made a face at the burns running down each of the unconscious dragons. Even at this size, they were pretty gruesome. Drift was right behind her. “You said it was Rainbow Dash that did this?” “It’s more like they did this to themselves,” Spike corrected. “But yeah, Rainbow Dash is the one made of rainbows and lightning.” “Isn’t that kinda worse, though?” Drift asked. “I mean, I feel like I should tell you to remind me not to shake her hoof.” “She’s safe… ish,” Spike weakly insisted as the group watched Ember lift her hand and shrink the two dragons into infants. Kindle shuffled uneasily as she watched. “These are the dragons that were looking for Ember, right?” “Yes,” Candesca confirmed, politely neglecting to mention the third one, whose bones Spike didn’t see. “Right,” Kindle said. “It’s just not pretty seeing whelps that young with injuries like those.” She… had a point, Spike thought. For all the smaller their wounds had become, they were still twisted lines of burned flesh running down the dragons’ sides which would no doubt be very painful when the two dragons eventually woke up. Fluttershy, oddly, didn’t comment on the now-infantile dragons or their injuries, instead choosing to busy herself cutting clean sections of the dragons’ previous dressings down to size. Candesca quickly stepped in to help her, while Corona turned to Ember. “Thank you, Empress,” Corona said, dipping her head in a bow. She even made it sound sincere, title and all. “Rest assured, they will be taken care of for as long as their convalescence lasts. There will be no charges pressed in spite of the fact that their aggressive poking might very well have injured a normal pony, but a second offense will not be looked on so lightly. As we have already seen today, even a very young dragon can still be a great danger when properly motivated.” “Not sure why I’d care, but okay?” Ember said. “You have declared yourself as the leader of your race,” Candesca said, joining the conversation once she was done helping Fluttershy. “You are, at some level, now responsible for them. My sister is simply reassuring you that your people will be treated with honor and fairness both here and now and in the future.” Ember straightened at the reminder of her position. “Err, right,” she said, going along with it. That might not be how dragons worked, normally, but it was how they worked in the empire. “If I may ask, Empress,” Candesca said, changing the subject once again. “You’ve spoken of bringing culture and civilization back to dragonkind, which is a noble endeavour. How do you see yourself progressing towards that goal in the near future?” Spike winced. That… was a bit of an abstract question for Ember, but so long as her answer wasn’t ‘with my eyes,’ it’d probably be fine. He needn’t have worried. “Leading by example, of course,” Ember declared. “I suppose, with my father no longer an issue, I shall have to move out of Spike’s basement.” Well, maybe a little worrying, Spike corrected, then his mind caught up with the actual implications of that. Ember moving out? This would be great! If he could get rid of Ember and the others, he could finally have some peace and quiet! “Actually, you should speak to Twilight Sparkle about that,” Candesca mentioned. “She was thinking along similar lines and was looking forward to getting her library back.” Goddammit. — ⭗ ✹ — Celestia Corona and Celestia Candesca spent a short while talking to Empress Ember about what her so-called rule would actually involve, making suggestions here and there. They would have liked to have talked longer, but Ember clearly didn’t have the patience for long discussions on statecraft just yet. They would have also liked a copy of the book on the dragon empire that she kept mentioning, but she was insistent on keeping the one she had close to her chest and the Celestias had never heard of another copy. Given how old it would have to be to be a first-hand account, there no doubt wasn’t one. That was a shame, but it was only a curiosity. More important was what she actually intended to do with the information, and she wasn’t shy about sharing it. It was… a work in progress. That wasn’t what the Celestias were thinking about on their way back to their chambers, though. “It’s not very subtle when you’re actually looking for it, is it?” Corona asked, rather disheartened. Candesca reluctantly agreed. “No, it isn’t.” “We have to do something,” Corona insisted. “This cannot continue.” “What do you suggest we do that we aren’t already doing?” Candesca asked. “Things might get better now that the situation is at least partially resolved.” “Do you really believe that?” Corona asked. “I fear we would just be putting the matter off until another day and we already know how that turned out last time.” “That won’t happen,” Candesca said, attempting to reassure her sister with a casual bump of the shoulder. It didn’t really work. “You can’t guarantee that. We shouldn’t ignore it.” “Okay,” Candesca said. “If you have any suggestions, I’ll listen.” — ✶ — “I distinctly remember you chastising yourself for even suggesting this,” Luna said, having located her missing marefriend behind a pile of books in the Canterlot Archives. “Something about you being able to come here on any day of the week instead of wasting time that you could otherwise be spending with your friends.” Twilight shrank into her shoulders at being caught, but she had her reasons. “Come on, give me a break,” she said, not terribly contrite. “I planned for a public event followed by a casual celebration and maybe an early private dinner. There’s only so much cuteceñera cheer and noise that I can stand before I need to take a break, and I’m not the only one who bailed early.” Luna set herself down next to Twilight and leaned into her. “Yes, well, I daresay my sisters were not expecting us to be on Spike’s side. They seemed rather unsettled when they left.” “I don’t see why,” Twilight said, taking the chance to nuzzle Luna back. “It’s just the sort of nonsense I used to get into as a filly. Admittedly, I don’t think I ever indirectly enabled a coup of a foreign power, but it all worked out for the better. “They are stressed,” Luna reminded her. “I know,” Twilight acknowledged. “But you’d think they’d be relieved.” “It’s not always that simple,” Luna said. “If it were me that had been struggling with a problem only to have it solved by someone else for their own reasons, I can imagine that I would be quite disheartened.” “I don’t think it was that,” Twilight said, trying to pin down the impression she’d gotten from the Celestias as they’d been leaving. “Well, you said it. They were unsettled, not depressed.” Luna hmmed. “I wouldn’t rule it out,” she said. “Sister always was used to being in control and on top of things. Unsettled would fit her in this situation, especially on having her accusations rebuffed.” Twilight thought about it and agreed. “Well, I hope they can reconcile those feelings. It would be a shame if they held it against Spike.” “Ah, yes,” Luna said. “Those pesky little things called ‘consequences.’ I, too, feel that they are best avoided.” “Ha-ha,” Twilight laughed sarcastically. “That’s fair, I suppose, but Spike is… Spike. He’s so earnest that I’d question whether he even knows the meaning of the word ‘mischievous’ if I hadn’t tested him on the flash cards myself.” Luna was unconvinced. “Really?” she said. “Because I’m pretty sure I’ve seen him sneaking cupcakes from the break room.” “That’s harmless,” Twilight said, defending him. “I’ve always let him manage his own eating anyway. Now, if he was taking other people’s food from the fridge, that would be a different matter.” “If he were doing that, I might consider banishing him to…” Luna stopped to think. “Where do you banish a dragon to?” “The center of the earth?” Twilight suggested. “Yes, that,” Luna said. “Anyway, nonsense aside, I suppose I see your point, though you might still have a blind spot for him.” Twilight shifted in place and admitted, “Maybe a little.” “So, how goes the research?” Luna asked, reminding Twilight where they were and what she’d been doing. Twilight looked down at the book in front of her and brightened. “Oh! Right! Well, I was right, of course. Portals should be doable, but I’ll be completely on my own in modifying them to suit my needs. It turns out that ponies willing to be so wasteful with their magic aren’t usually the subtle type.” “Except for you,” Luna said, nuzzling Twilight supportively. Twilight, though, feigned a pout. “Am I being insulted? I feel like I’m being insulted.” “Feel free to defend your honor,” Luna told her. Twilight hmphed and said, “Isn’t that supposed to be your job?” Luna gave Twilight a long look and claimed, “Conflict of interest,” making Twilight blush. — ✶ — Twilight had had her break and found what she needed in the Canterlot archives, so it wasn’t long until Luna dragged her back out to find the rest of her friends. The one they ran into first, though, came with some baggage. “Oh, for—! Not more ponies!” Ember griped aloud. “I’m sorry?” Twilight said, not having expected this kind of reaction. She looked to Spike and Fluttershy for any sign of an explanation. “Sorry,” Spike said, unintentionally echoing Twilight. “She doesn’t mean anything by it.” “Yes I do!” Ember insisted, crossing her arms. “We just got done talking to the Celestias about…” Spike stopped to search for a word, eventually summarizing it as, “Celestia things.” Having grown up under Celestia’s tutelage, understood instantly. “Ah, well, you’ll get used to it.” “Get used to it?” Ember asked, incredulous. “Uh-uh. No way. We talked—I even listened—but that’s it. We’re going back to ponyville and staying there.” That was unexpected. “Didn’t you come here just to see her?” Twilight asked. By the look on her face, Ember had completely forgotten about that, but she just doubled down on her statement. “Like I said, we came and we saw, so we’re done now. They’re not that impressive up close anyway.” That was interesting if it wasn’t just bluster and Twilight filed that information away for later. Actually, given the level of irritation and impatience Ember was exuding just standing there, later was probably a good idea for anything that wasn’t urgent. “Alright, well, the original plan was for us all to be here until dinner, but I don’t see that happening since Rarity and Applejack will probably be dragging the crusaders back home as soon as they can get away,” Twilight explained, moving to make her way around the group of dragons. “Enjoy your trip and good luck on the whole… empress thing.” Ember stiltedly thanked Twilight for the well-wishes and immediately seized the opportunity to leave. Watching them disappear around a corner leading to the castle’s main hall, Twilight shook her head and shrugged. “Well, she’s kind of abrasive, but I’d be a hypocrite if I didn’t give her at least a little slack for only being able to deal with other people for so long.” “It’s good that you recognize that,” Luna observed. Twilight thought about that for a moment and said, “…I feel like I’m being insulted again.” “She’s really not too bad,” Fluttershy said, startling Twilight, who had forgotten that she was there and so hadn’t realized that she’d stayed behind. “Gah!” Twilight shouted, jumping behind Luna. “Ah, that’s right. You went with them to care for the injured one?” Luna remembered, draping a wing over Twilight to protect her from the scary yellow pegasus. Twilight sheepishly blushed and shrugged the wing off. “Oh, yeah. How did that go? Come to think of it, I don’t think I saw Slag with the rest of them.” “Oh, um, she was there,” Fluttershy said. “But she’s easy to miss.” “She is?” Twilight said, confused. “I mean, she’s black, but dark colors don’t exactly blend in around here.” Twilight gestured around to the predominantly white and gold architecture and red carpets. “I believe that Fluttershy was referring to the dragon in question being the size of a hoofball now,” Luna chimed in. “Oh. How did I miss that?” she said, processing the idea. “That… That’s brilliant!” she exclaimed. Fluttershy mumbled something that might have been the meekest, quietest, “Thank you.” “Shoot,” Twilight cursed. “Now I’m wishing I went with you instead of getting dragged to that cuteceñera.” “You were already wishing that anyway,” Luna pointed out perfectly reasonably. “Okay, but still,” Twilight said. “I’d have loved to see that and take notes on the effects. I’m sure they tried aging her back up, and if Slag is still that size, that means that the wound came back when they did. Comparing the before and after at the same size would be fascinating. I’d expect to see a loss of detail, but what if there wasn’t?” “That does sound interesting,” Luna said and looked back in the direction the dragons had left in. “But something tells me getting her to indulge you might be an issue.” “You just caught her at a bad time,” Fluttershy insisted. “Really. She reminds me of Rainbow Dash.” Twilight considered that and shivered. “No. If you gave Rainbow Dash her own empire, there would be a lot more dancing and preening.” “So, Ember is more like Applejack, then?” Luna asked. “What? No,” Twilight said, not seeing that at all. “Why would… okay, it still doesn’t fit, but the fact that you can compare someone as rude as Ember is to Applejack really shows how much we need to fix this thing with her avoiding the city. I mean, this is Applejack that we’re talking about! The mare who shakes hooves like a paint mixer and shoves apples down your throat at every opportunity!” “What a flattering description,” Luna snarked. “The meaning of friendship is in the mild psychological trauma that we inflict on one another,” Twilight fondly asserted. Luna frowned. “I’m sure that I should be able to refute that, but I cannot.” “…It sounds about right to me,” Fluttershy admitted. — ✒ — Having grown up in Canterlot, Spike found the absolute desertion of the streets eerie. Technically, the streets had been deserted on the way in, too, but with the dragons having crawled back into their holes it almost seemed like a ghost town. The innumerable eyes peeking through curtains at them as they walked down the street put the lie to that, though. Rather than a ghost town, it was more akin to a city under quarantine in the wake of a plague. A plague of dragons. Spike believed that they’d done pretty well that day, but that was not the collective noun that he wanted for his race. “So we’re just going to… go home?” Spike said. “What else would we do?” Ember asked in turn. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “It just feels… empty. You changed the entire dragon race today, but it doesn’t feel like we won.” Ember scoffed and said, “That’s because we didn’t. We let daddy get away with the scepter.” “Would he go back to whatever hoard or lair he has?” Spike asked. “We could go back to the dragonlands and look for him.” Ember fidgeted with the ring of Ashmund as she considered it. “He might, but… he has the scepter,” she said, sounding almost disgusted with that fact, or with herself for letting it stop her. “So we ask Twilight to do it?” Spike suggested. Ember grit her teeth and looked back the way they came. It would be rather awkward going back now after Ember had all but stormed off, but this was kind of important.