Heya, Sunny!
How’s it going? It was so good to hear from you before. I miss you so much and can’t wait to see you again. Also, step up your game, because Dashie had a feeling you were teasing her. Sure, she was a bit mad, but probably not as mad as you’d hoped. We did get a good laugh out of it though.
Sunset, we all saw what Queen Celestia did to those meanies from Heliopolis. By the light, it was awful. I know they deserved it for what they did, but still, I felt icky after that. But, I guess that was the point.
Other than that, things are pretty much same old, same old here. Everyone’s finishing up the harvests from the summer and getting ready to plant for the fall. A couple months, and it’ll be time for the Fall Harvest Festival! I’m excited, but it won’t be the same without you, Sunny. Maybe… do you think you could ask Lady Inkwell really, really nicely if you can come? I’m sure she’d be okay with just a couple days. Right? Right?
Lyra, Flitter and Lilac have come by a couple times to ask about how you’re doing, so we told them about what’s been going on. They’re worried about you. Maybe you could write them too? I’m sure they’d love to hear from you and know you’re doing okay.
Anyway, write when you can. Maybe send something to Tender Heart and everyone at the orphanage. And Bronze. I’ve seen him a couple times at the Sweet Shoppe, and he misses you.
Lots of love.
Pinkie Pie
Hi, Sunset,
Granny signed the documents Lady Inkwell wanted before she’d let us send the cider. I don’t know why she’s being like this about it, but if this is how it has to be, I’ll trust her. She’s the queen’s hand after all.
We should have the first order ready for you in the next couple weeks.
Please take care of yourself, sugarcube.
AJ
P.S. - Thanks for the heads up that Pinkie and Dash were planning something. It didn’t stop them, but I was at least sorta ready when they decided to paint monster faces on all the trees in the north orchard. I’m still gonna make them clean it up, but we got a laugh out of it.
The sound of Sunset and Raven’s footsteps echoed through the marble corridor as they walked into one of the deeper passages below the Cathedral of the Sun. Sunset’s sounded soft next to the sharp clack of Raven’s high-heels as the elder phoenix-born led them through the labyrinthine passages. Looking up at the royal seneschal, Sunset tried to get a sense of what was in store for her, but as ever, Raven was completely unreadable.
Sunset was nervous.
Almost painfully so.
Because today marked the beginning of her fourth month of her tutelage on Mt. Liakeed.
And the first of her lessons on how to run the Western Territory.
Neither Queen Celestia nor Raven had told her anything about what the lessons would actually be, nor had they given her anything to help her prepare. Instead, the queen had simply told Sunset that Raven would meet her an hour after dawn at her suite and that Raven's government and legal lessons would now be a regular part of her routine.
She had known this day would come. Raven herself had told her after the phoenix-rite she’d eventually be tutoring Sunset in how to be an archduchess.
She just wished she knew what she was in for.
As they passed through another bend in the corridor, Sunset reached up to Philomena and softly caressed her bondmate’s wing to calm her mind as it threatened to blaze out of control. Sensing Sunset’s distress, Philomena reached her head around and nuzzled Sunset’s fingers with the flat of her beak, their bond opening to send reassuring feelings to Sunset.
Sending back feelings of gratitude, Sunset tried to imagine what exactly she and Raven would be doing. Would she be giving her lessons on how the government worked? Sunset dismissed the idea, because she’d seen it during the council meetings she’d attended. Was she going to be teaching her about the day to day of being an archduchess? It was possible. It wasn’t like she had any idea how to actually run a territory. But it couldn’t be that hard, right? After all, if someone as arrogant, incompetent, dumb and ugly as Highblood could do it, then how hard could it be?
At the thought of Highblood, a chill went down her spine as her mind was unwillingly drawn back to the last time she’d seen him.
The queen had been true to her word: one week after declaring his sentence, she had transformed the sky above Solaria into a giant projection of the site of the execution. Unfortunately for Sunset, she hadn’t gotten to watch it from a distance.
She had had to be present.
At the execution.
With the rest of the phoenix-born.
She had had to witness as the fourteen former nobles, bound by their wrists and hung from a pole, had been carried by a pair of massive featureless, androgynous galatea onto a platform on the east side of Mt. Liakeed. Once they had arrived, the galatea had placed the two ends of the pole onto a pair of pillars at the base of an immense, vertical cliff face halfway up the mountain’s slope, suspending the prisoners five meters off the ground. To Sunset’s horror, none of them had even been given the dignity of being allowed to wear clothes.
Then, in a flash of sunlight, Queen Celestia had appeared in all of her radiant glory.
She’d watched as, one by one, the queen had lifted each of the condemned from the line with her magic and, after pressing them to the cliff faces, touched their chests with her right index finger, sending the mourning glories ripping through their flesh to pin them to the stone. Sunset had wanted to close her eyes and turn away as the vines bored in and out of each one, twining around and through them like some sort of hideous brown ropes. Or cover her ears as the sound of their pleas for mercy or horrified screams quickly devolved into shrieks of agony as the vines became flush with leaves and set to their grisly work.
But she hadn't been able to, because Raven had told her that she had needed to witness all of the executions. Because all of Solaria needed to see her stoically watching the execution to cement to them that the dream being inflicted on Highblood and his co-conspirators earned them no mercy or sympathy from any of the phoenix-born.
So she’d forced herself to watch, her mind constantly going through her meditations to keep herself composed, and flooded with love from Philomena to keep her from looking away.
Still, the worst of it had been Queen Celestia herself. Her cold, indifferent glare as she had claimed each prisoner in turn had filled Sunset with a dread unlike any she'd ever known.
The queen had saved Highblood for last, his begging for his life having quickly deteriorated into agonized shrieking as Queen Celestia had infected him with the vines and turned away with scarcely more concern than one would after stepping on a cockroach and throwing the body onto the waste pile.
And then, it had been done.
All of the heretics had been consigned to die on the cliffs of Mt. Liakeed. Sunset had followed Raven as she and the rest of the phoenix-born had walked to a wyvern-carried gondola that would return them to the Cathedral of the Sun, while Queen Celestia had returned to her castle in a flash of light.
Sunset hadn’t had any lessons for the rest of the day. Or the next two for that matter. Instead, Raven had insisted she take some time off and spent it with Roseluck at her private estate in Chromos to work through what she’d just witnessed. Sunset had been grateful for the break, and the chance to process everything.
Seeing an execution itself hadn’t been what had shaken her so badly. They weren’t anything new to her. She’d watched plenty of thieves, bandits and other criminals hanged or beheaded in Golden Tree after the rangers or the sheriff caught them. It was just a fact of life in a town on the edge of the frontier where the loss of a horse, a portion of a harvest, or a sack of radiants could mean life or death.
This had been different.
This hadn't been quick and clean.
This had been divine punishment that would take decades to be completed. And one meant to not simply end a life.
No. It was one meant to make their deaths utter, unending, unrelenting agony and suffering from which there was no respite or release save for the release of final oblivion.
But what was more, it was a message to all of Solaria. A message that said, “If you think yourselves above the queen’s sacred laws, you will be punished and you will suffer.”
The two days had come and gone quickly, and she had returned to the Cathedral of the Sun to resume her lessons like nothing had happened.
It’d been harder than she’d imagined to just go back, but she’d managed to eventually put the experience behind her by burying herself in her studies.
For the most part anyway.
“Sunset, we’re here,” Raven said, her voice yanking Sunset out of her brooding.
“Huh?” Sunset said, before feeling her face flush, the sound of Philomena’s snickering passing through their bond. “Oh, right, sorry… So, what are we going to be doing?”
Looking up, Sunset saw that Raven was standing in front of what appeared to be nothing more than a simple wooden door. In fact, it looked like all the others they’d passed on their way.
“We’re going to be playing a game, Sunset,” Raven said as she opened the door and ushered Sunset in.
“A game? We came all the way down here to play a game?” Sunset said incredulously as she stepped into the room then froze with amazement. The room was huge, easily large enough to fit her suite with space to spare. The floor appeared to be made of one enormous pane of thick glass with a small walkway along the edge. Below the glass was a pit filled with what looked like a massive amount of fine, crystalline dust. The room itself was bare save for two short, raised platforms on the edges parallel to the wall with the door into the room half way along their length, each one of which included a golden phoenix-perch.
“Yes, but not just any game,” Raven said as she followed Sunset in. As she closed the door behind them, the room lit up with a set of light glyphs, bathing it in soft, white glow. Reaching up, Raven offered her right arm to Dylis, who stepped onto the limb. As Raven extended her arm straight out ahead of her body, he took to the air and flew to one of the perches. “We’re going to play a game that will help you understand what it takes to lead a state.”
Walking along the edge of the pit, Raven led Sunset to the platform opposite the one where Dylis had landed. As they were walking, Sunset looked around the room and down at the dust, inspecting everything she could, trying to understand exactly what this place was. Now that she was looking closer, she saw hundreds of lines of runes marking the marble walls both above and below the glass, as well as etched into the edges of the glass itself.
She didn’t recognize most of them, and the ones she did know were all very high level; most were tier five at minimum. Each of the runic circuits was impossibly complex and were beyond flawlessly executed in the fine details of their craftsmanship.
Sunset froze as a thought entered her head. A terrible, incredible, profoundly mind-boggling thought that caused her to stop in her tracks and gawk in awe.
“Raven, is this whole room an amp?” Sunset gasped as she looked around with renewed wonder.
Raven stopped and looked back over her shoulder at Sunset, a slight, pleased look in her eyes.
“Very astute observation, Sunset. It is indeed. Probably one of, if not the most complex amps in existence, if you’ll allow me a small bit of pride. I should know. I built it.”
Sunset’s jaw dropped.
“You made this?” Sunset said as she spun in place, looking at as much of the room as she could, and tried to ignore the annoyed sensations coming through her bond as Philomena expressed her displeasure at being twirled while trying to grip the pauldron on Sunset’s shoulder. “How long did it take? Don’t amps take years to design and create?”
“They do, Sunset,” Raven said with a small smile. “For this particular amp, I’d say the whole process of developing all the spells, researching and devising the runes and inscribing them in just the right way took somewhere around thirty to forty years.”
“That long?” Sunset gasped. “It took that long to make?”
“Yes, it did. But, I’m sure you’ll be impressed by the result of that investment. Now, before we get started,” Raven said as she turned her attention to Philomena, “Philomena, I’m afraid I’m going to need you to wait for Sunset on your perch.”
Lame, Philomena sent as Sunset brought her arm up, allowing the phoenix to step on.
Having finished fledging in the last month, Philomena’s juvenile plumage had finally replaced all but a few small patches of her hatchling down. Now, she was covered in dull red, yellow and orange feathers that, while similar in color to her adult plumage, weren’t as bright or vibrant as her siblings.
And with her full plumage came the capacity for flight.
Yea, Sunset sent in reply as she held her arm out, giving Philomena the space she needed to spread her wings and take to the air. The young phoenix was far from graceful, but she managed to reach her perch and land with only a little unsteadiness.
Hah! Stuck the landing this time! Philomena sent as she turned around on the perch to face Sunset, a proud look on her face.
Good job, Mena. I guess there’s a first time for everything, isn’t there? Sunset sent with a teasing lilt.
I’m not going to take flying criticism from you, sunbutt. Not after how long it took you to just manage hovering.
Hey, turnabout’s fair play, featherbutt. You gave me crap while I was learning. I get to give you crap. Fair’s fair.
A feeling of annoyance came through their bond as Philomena narrowed her eyes and hunched her shoulders while lowering her head at Sunset, a gesture that Sunset had learned was more or less the phoenix equivalent of blowing a raspberry.
“When the two of you are done with whatever little teasing match you’re having,” Raven’s voice cut through their glaring contest, causing both Sunset and Philomena to jump with surprise, “we can get started.”
“Yes, Raven. Sorry,” Sunset stammered as her cheeks flushed in embarrassment. “I’m ready.”
“Good. Please, stand in the ring,” Raven said as she indicated a gold-trimmed circle set into the top of the platform.
Doing as she was told, Sunset climbed onto the platform and stood in the spot Raven indicated.
“Okay, now what?” Sunset said as she looked around the platform, trying to understand what it was for.
“Now?” Raven said as she floated into the air and drifted over to the other side of the room, landing on the sister platform. As soon as Raven was settled, Sunset felt the runes light up with flame. As they did, the dust in the pit sprang to life, shifting around like a living thing as it coalesced into what looked like a massive contoured map, complete with tiny trees, mountains, towns and savannahs. Once formed, the dust solidified and took on color, making the entire map's surface look like a tiny, shrunken world.
“Now, you’re going to play a game. One where you are in charge of a town, and your objective is to make it prosper,” Raven said as she folded her arms behind her back and regarded Sunset critically.
“What? How am I supposed to do that?” Sunset said as she looked up at Raven, then back down at the newly created miniature landscape.
“Allow me to explain,” Raven said as she gestured to the map. “The map below represents your ‘territory,’ the place that you are going to govern. Your objective is to keep both your land and people healthy, safe and prosperous. At any point, you can make a declaration, be it in response to something you see, any change you wish to make to laws or policies, how the ‘people’ use the land, or bring up proposals for things you want done. As you do, the map will take your orders, and determine the most probable outcome given the current conditions on the map, including how the people you govern feel about you and your rule, and how it will affect the land itself. Should your territory become uninhabitable, your town revolts against you, or more than 50% of them die, the game will end. Until that point is reached, we’ll keep going. But as soon as things reach a fail condition, we will reset and try again. Do you understand?”
Sunset glanced down at the map, then back to Raven.
“That’s all?” Sunset asked simply, a smile on her face as she did. “That sounds easy enough.”
“Does it now?” Raven said with a slight curl of her lips. “There is one more thing you’ll need to know. Every so often, I’ll be able to introduce ‘crises’ into the scenario. Things that will add complications and require you to make quick decisions. Things like, but not limited to, wild weather, natural disasters, bandits, or hostile species moving into an area. For the first few rounds, the game will be kept simple, and I won’t introduce any major disasters or complications. But, as you learn, I’ll begin to toss embers onto the tinder to see if you can stop it from igniting. Keep in mind that your standing with your people will be determined not just with how well you govern, but how well you handle any crisis that comes up, either as a result of my intervention, as well as your actions or inactions.
“Now, since you’re from the Western Territory, the map will be working with the cultural mindset of a typical, modern westerner when determining how the populace responds to you and your rule. That way, you’ll be working with a familiar social structure. Do you have any other questions?”
“What happens if I don’t fail on the first round?” Sunset asked as she crossed her arms over her chest and regarded Raven.
“Then we keep going until our time is up, and resume where we left off the next time. Once I feel you’re ready, we’ll move to larger regions until you’re governing an entire regional territory.”
Sunset smiled as she surveyed the map.
“I’m glad you feel ready for this, Sunset,” Raven said, pulling Sunset out of her head and back to the real world. “Well, shall we get started?”
“Ready whenever you are,” Sunset said confidently.
You sure you got this, Sunset? Philomena sent, her tone uncertain.
Come on, Mena. How hard could it be?
*****
“And that’s it for this attempt,” Raven said in her neutral, teacher’s tone. “I’m impressed. You lasted a bit longer this time. Thirty effective years on this run before the famine you caused sparked a rebellion.”
Sunset stared down at the map listlessly, her spirit sinking even further as she watched the dust break apart and collapse back into its resting state. Truthfully, her performance didn’t feel that impressive.
Not to her.
“That makes twelve runs, Sunset,” Raven continued. “Do you want to try again? Or do you want to take a break?”
“Let’s… I don’t get what I’m doing wrong,” Sunset said as she clenched her fists and glared at the pile of inert crystalline dust, her temper flaring as her frustration mounted.
Things always started off well.
She kept her people contented for the first few years of each run, either staying out of their way or giving them things that she thought would make them happy. But, slowly but surely, things would begin to fall apart, and she was always forced to scramble to keep the game going for as long as she could. But when she fixed one problem, another two would inevitably spring up.
And in the end she’d be left with either a rebellion, the populace dead, or her lands having to be abandoned because they’d been ruined by one thing or another.
“Alright, that’s the last run for now,” Raven said firmly as she held out her arm for Dylis, who flew to her. After transferring him to her shoulder, she floated into the air and over to Sunset. “We’re going to take a break, and then we’ll discuss your performance and what you can learn from it.”
Looking up at Raven, Sunset’s brows furrowed. Seeing Raven’s impassive, non-judgemental, stoic face, Sunset felt her temper flare. Something in that look told Sunset that Raven had planned this.
“You knew this would happen, didn’t you?” Sunset said as she glared at Raven. “You knew I would fail.”
“I did,” Raven said simply, Sunset’s glare bouncing off her like it was nothing more than a gentle breeze. “Now, as we head back, I want you to think about why I would want that. And before you answer, remember that everything you’re learning is done for a reason. Even when you are meant to fail. So, I want the two of you, which means you too, Philomena, to come up with some ideas why you were meant to fail. And what you think the main mistake you made was that led you to fail.”
She wanted me to fail because she likes seeing me suffer? Sunset sent as she walked up to Philomena’s perch and floated up to allow her partner to step onto her arm. Despite being able to fly on her own now, Sunset wasn’t about to have Philomena try landing on her arm for a while. Not after the last time where she had ended up with bloody talon marks on her forearm.
I’m sure that’s not the answer she’s looking for, Philomena sent as Sunset drifted back to the floor and allowed her to step onto her shoulder.
Doesn’t make it untrue, Sunset retorted as she began to follow Raven out of the room.
Now you’re just being grumpy, Philomena teased as she bumped up against the side of Sunset’s head. If she wanted you to suffer, she could have made you sit in a room with paintings of Steel and Blueblood.
I said she wants me to suffer, not claw my eyes out in horror.
Same thing.
Not even close to the same thing.
If you insist.
Sunset gave Philomena a quick mental poke, getting an annoyed one in return, before they shared a quick, mirthful sensation with one another as they followed Raven out the door.
*****
Sunset and Philomena found themselves once again sitting with Raven and Dylis in Raven’s balcony garden. As before, Raven had prepared a pot of tea, though this time she’d also included a small, midday meal. They’d eaten in silence, Sunset stewing in her frustration as she watched the serene and unreadable royal seneschal slowly and precisely eating her meal.
There were times she admired Raven for her stoicism. And times she found it infuriating, especially when she was on the receiving end.
This was one of the latter times.
Raven slowly set down her utensils and, after wiping her mouth and moving her plate off to the side, laced her fingers together and rested them on the table. Then she fixed Sunset with one of her ‘teacher’ looks.
“So, Sunset, Philomena, I trust you’ve had time to think on and discuss my questions.”
“Yes,” Sunset said tersely.
“Then, please, I would like to hear your answers,” Raven said as she turned her palm up towards Sunset.
Taking a deep breath, Sunset braced herself.
“You wanted me to understand just how little I knew, or how unprepared I was for the task of actually ruling a place, right?” Sunset said as she fixed Raven’s eyes with her own.
Raven’s mouth slowly turned up into a slight smile as she closed her eyes and nodded. Sunset’s heart skipped a beat as her previous frustration almost instantly evaporated at Raven’s reaction.
“Good, Sunset. Very good,” Raven said proudly, before her face returned to its resting neutral. “Now, I would love to hear how you and Philomena came to that conclusion.”
Sunset’s elation died down a bit. Mostly because she knew she’d have to be completely honest with Raven about her thought process.
“Well, at first I thought you were doing it to torment me and make me mad,” Sunset admitted with a nervous chuckle. “But, Philomena and I discussed it for a while, and she convinced me that I was just being stubborn and frustrated.”
And I was right! Philomena chimed in.
Yes yes yes, you were right. Can we move on?
Let me have this, Sunset.
No.
Receiving an annoyed poke through their bond, Sunset pressed on.
“After Philomena convinced me to stop taking the whole thing personally, we started to think about it in terms of the previous lessons from the queen. At first, we decided that it was about me learning from my mistakes in the game, but that didn’t feel like it was the point. If it was, we would have probably stopped between each run and discussed things. But we didn’t. Instead, we’d just reset and start again.”
A silent nod from Raven told Sunset to keep going.
“So then I thought that maybe the failure might have been the point, since you and the queen have told me a bunch of times how important failing is, and learning from the mistakes. But, we decided that wasn’t it either, because there really wasn’t any way for me to learn from the mistakes because I didn’t know what my mistakes were.”
Raven nodded again.
“After that, we changed our line of thought, and considered maybe it was a test of how long it took for us to give up. With how quickly you’d reset the map and have us start again, we thought you were testing our determination and endurance. But, that didn’t sound right either, because the point of this was learning to govern. If you wanted to test our mental fortitude and endurance, the queen could do that. So, this had to do with learning about governing and ruling in some way.”
Another nod.
“We were stuck for a little bit. Then Philomena suggested that our original idea of the failure being the point might be correct, but thought that maybe learning from the failure wasn’t. That got me thinking that maybe, it wasn’t about what I learned, because I hadn’t actually learned anything beforehand to try out. And, that’s when the spark ignited for us. I didn’t know anything. I had no idea what I was doing. But I was certain that I did. I had just assumed that I could run a town because I thought it would be easy. And that’s when the fire sparked to life: the idea was to help me understand just how little I knew about being a ruler, and make me realize how much I still needed to learn.”
Raven’s pleased smile returned.
“Well done, both of you,” Raven said.
Sunset basked in Raven’s praise, before her face dropped a little.
“But… I don’t get something,” Sunset said as she looked down at her hands. “If you wanted me to understand that I didn’t know anything about ruling, why didn’t you just tell me?”
Raising her arms off the table, Raven leaned on her elbows and steepled her index fingers.
“I could have. And you would have probably believed me. But this way, you’ve earned that wisdom for yourself, rather than had the knowledge handed to you,” Raven said.
“There’s a difference?” Sunset asked, her brows furrowing with confusion.
“There is. Which is another piece of wisdom that you’ll earn, in time,” Raven said as she poured both of them another cup of tea. “But, enough of that. Let’s move on to the next question: do you know what your greatest mistake was when you were playing the game?”
Sunset frowned.
We… didn’t come up with anything for that, did we? Philomena sent nervously.
No, we didn’t. We spent all our time on the first question.
Should we tell her that?
Sunset sent an unamused feeling to Philomena, who sent a return poke.
Mena, you know the answer.
Tell the truth?
Tell the truth…
Letting out a sigh, Sunset composed herself and looked Raven in the eyes again.
“We didn’t come up with anything. We spent all my time on the first question. Sorry.”
“That’s disappointing, but forgivable,” Raven said. “In that case, I’d like us to work through it together: you, Philomena, and myself.”
Sunset considered that, before something popped into her head.
“So, just three of us?” Sunset asked as she looked at Dylis.
To her surprise, he narrowed his eyes at Sunset before looking at Raven and shaking his head.
“Umelerate vinte lema palasa meche enalese. Chemete tili benara falamesa.”
Time froze for a moment as Sunset gawked at Dylis. Her shock wasn’t just from hearing him speak the phoenix tongue. It was that she’d heard him speak at all.
“Wait, you can talk?!” Sunset shouted.
Sunset’s declaration prompted both Dylis and Raven to chuckle, the former looking like he was rolling his eyes, while the latter crossed her arms and leaned back as she regarded Sunset.
“Of course he can. All royal phoenixes can, once they learn their language,” Raven said with an amused smile as she reached up and affectionately scratched Dylis behind the ear, making him trill happily. “He just prefers not to, since most sun-gazers can’t speak phoenix, and he can’t speak Solarian. Wrong type of throat.”
“Oh,” Sunset muttered, feeling a little embarrassed. “I thought it was just Queen Lumina. But… wait… if Dylis can’t speak Solarian, why can Queen Lumina?”
That got an amused eye-quirk from Raven.
“Come now, Sunset. Queen Lumina may not be Queen Celestia, but is it such a stretch to imagine she has the magic needed to make herself understood?”
“I… suppose not… “ Sunset admitted. “So, what did he say?”
“He more or less said ‘I’m not the one getting or giving the lessons here, kid,’” Raven said with an amused smile. “‘But I appreciate the consideration.’”
“Um, you’re welcome, Dylis?” Sunset said, her voice uncertain.
“Lirane makecha,” Dylis replied.
“‘Don’t worry about it,’” Raven said as she translated for Dylis before returning her attention to Sunset. “But, we’re getting off topic. We’re going to try working out what was the most consistent and most damaging mistake you were making when trying to govern your territory. How about you and Philomena come up with an idea, and we’ll discuss it.”
Sunset sighed and wrung her hands.
“Can you give me a hint?” Sunset asked.
“Of course. I’d be happy to,” Raven said before taking a drink of her tea. “Why does the perspective of a mountain differ from that of a butterfly?”
Sunset blinked at Raven.
“Um…what? What does that have to do with this?” Sunset asked, her tone perplexed.
“It has everything to do with it. Take some time to consider what I’ve just said with Philomena.”
Grumbling, Sunset downed her tea in a couple of gulps, before setting her mug down with a little more force than needed. Propping her head in the palms of her hands and resting her elbows on the table, she closed her eyes and opened her link with Philomena a bit wider.
You got all that, right? Sunset sent.
I did. Didn’t seem helpful though, did it? Philomena asked. Do you have any ideas?
No. What does a mountain and a butterfly have to do with anything, especially ruling a town?
I mean, she’s probably not literally talking about a mountain and a butterfly.
I figured. This is probably a metaphor of some sort. Figuring it out is the problem.
We could try thinking of the ways they’re different. Maybe we’ll come up with something that way, right?
Worth a shot. Sunset blew a huff out of her nose. Well, the obvious difference is that one’s a big mound of inanimate rock, the other’s a tiny bug.
You can build things on a mountain, while a butterfly is too small to have anything built on it, Philomena added, giving Sunset the amusing picture of a butterfly holding up a castle built with its back.
Thanks for that image, Mena, Sunset sent dryly. But, seriously, mountains have grand, majestic beauty, while butterflies are beautiful in a delicate, colorful way. And, you can mine metal and rock from a mountain, but the only way a butterfly is useful is if you leave it alone.
Mountains cast long shadows, while butterflies barely cast a shadow at all? Philomena sent uncertainly.
Sunset considered that.
Maybe. Let’s see… Mountains don’t really change over time, while butterflies grow from caterpillars, become chrysalises, and then become butterflies. Sunset felt her mind latch onto an idea. Wait, maybe that’s it? Mountains are steady, while butterflies change over their lifetime. It’s not obvious like their size, but it is something fundamental. Steady and immobile versus mercurial and protean.
Should we ask Raven? Philomena inquired.
She did say she’d help us work through it, so I guess no harm.
Opening her eyes and meeting Raven’s, Sunset gathered her nerve.
“A mountain is different from a butterfly because a mountain is steady, unchanging and unmoving, while a butterfly goes through changes throughout all its life, and is in constant motion.”
Sunset’s heart sank as Raven didn’t immediately reply. Instead, she steepled her fingers and rested her elbows on the table.
“You’re on the right track,” Raven said with a nod. “But, mountains are not static. They do change. They change with the seasons. They change as they’re eroded by the elements. They change and grow as the land pushes them upward, or wastes away around them.”
Sunset scrunched her face in confusion. She hadn’t ever really considered that a mountain could change over time. They’d always just seemed… static. Eternal.
“But, wouldn’t most of those take forever to happen? Other than the seasons thing at least.”
“That’s right, they do take a long time. Just as mountains last a long time,” Raven replied sagely. “Now, while you’re on the right track, consider that I didn’t ask about how mountains and butterflies differed. I asked how their perception of things might differ.”
“I don’t understand.”
“We’ve established that a mountain is something that can last for thousands of years. But, how long does a butterfly last? How long do they live?”
“Uh… I don’t know? I guess they don’t live long, right?”
“No, they don’t. Most won’t live for more than a year. Two at most.”
Sunset heart felt a sudden jolt of pity at the thought of such a short lifespan.
“Only one year? That’s all they have before they return to Nitor?” Sunset asked, a bit of sorrow creeping into her voice.
“Yes, Sunset. Most butterflies only have a year or two before returning to Nitor’s Heart.”
“That’s… so sad,” Sunset said as she looked down at her mug.
“Not so, Sunset,” Raven said sympathetically. “To a butterfly, that year of life is full, because to them, that is how long they’re supposed to live. So their perception of their lives is in the context of that year. Just as the perception of how long a life should be lived is seventy to a hundred years for a sun-gazer. In that year of life, a butterfly lives just as fully as a sun-gazer does in theirs.”
“Still, that seems so short,” Sunset said morosely.
“To us,” Raven corrected with a gentle tone. “But to a butterfly, we’re probably strange. We’re huge, impossibly powerful beings that seem eternal and unchanging, for in the time they live their lives, we have scarcely changed at all. It’s all about how one perceives things.”
Sunset considered that. Then, a thought struck her.
I feel that, Philomena chimed in happily. You think you’ve figured it out.
I do. Sunset couldn’t help but smirk at the realization. To a butterfly, a sun-gazer must seem so strange and unchanging. Just as to either a mountain would seem even more unchanging. But to the mountain, both would seem so transient and fleeting. A mountain would see years and years go by like a flash in its lifetime, but to the butterfly, those years would be an eternity.
Wait, I think I get it. They all perceive time differently, because of how long they live. A mountain would see things in the frame of centuries, while a butterfly would consider them only day by day.
Exactly.
But how does that relate to the issue of governing a town?
I have an idea. Let's see what Raven thinks.
Squaring her shoulders, Sunset took a deep breath to steady herself.
“Raven, was my biggest mistake that I was thinking like a butterfly, not a mountain?” Sunset asked as she met Raven’s eyes.
“Perhaps. Why don’t you explain what you mean?”
Nodding, Sunset could feel her excitement growing.
“I was only thinking about what was happening in the short term. I was thinking like a butterfly, and treating the game like the only thing that mattered was the immediate, because that was all I thought I needed. But I didn’t think about the long-term. I had no plan, no ‘mountain-like’ perception or a goal. I was flighty, and chaotic, not steady and steadfast.”
Sunset’s face began to turn up into a smile as she saw the tiniest hints of one touch on Raven’s lips.
“That’s what I did wrong. I went in without a long-term goal, plan, or idea of what I would do beyond my immediate actions. I focused too much on the now, not enough on the future.”
The sound of soft applause filled the air as Raven gently clapped, her face filled with warm approval.
“Good. Very good. Both of you,” Raven said as she looked back and forth between Sunset and Philomena. “And why is that so important as a phoenix-born?”
“We’re like mountains, aren’t we? So we need to think like mountains.”
“Almost,” Raven said, causing Sunset’s enthusiasm to dampen just slightly. “While it’s true that we need to think in the long term like a mountain, we can’t be so static and unmoving either. Tell me, is there any value in the perception of the butterfly?”
Sunset considered that a moment.
Raven wouldn’t ask that if there wasn’t, would she? Sunset sent.
It’s Raven, so I don’t think that’s safe to assume.
True…
“Yes?” Sunset offered. Seeing Raven gesture for her to continue, she pressed on. “…because to the butterfly, each day is precious, since they have only a year to live. And the way the year plays out for them changes depending on whether they’re a caterpillar, a chrysalis, or a butterfly.”
“And do they have the same needs all year?”
“No, they don’t. A caterpillar needs leaves, while a butterfly needs flowers.”
“So their needs change over time, and can change quickly?”
“Yes, they can… wait, so what you’re saying is that I need to consider things like both a mountain and a butterfly. I need to be able to think in both the short and long term. Is that it?”
“That’s it exactly,” Raven said warmly, causing Sunset to flush with joy. “As a ruler, you need to see both the short term, and the long term, while considering the ramifications of your actions in both. Nor can you let one dominate the other. Think only like a mountain, and your subjects will be miserable, because you’ll be thinking only of the long term rather than their immediate needs. Think only like a butterfly, and you’ll only focus only on the now, not about the consequences of your actions for generations to come.”
As Raven’s words sank in, Sunset’s elation died down.
“That sounds really hard,” Sunset admitted.
“It is. But, like any skill, it’s one that you get better at with time and practice. From now on when we have our lessons on governance, every so often we’ll be using my map to test what the ideas and methods you’ve learned. Think of it as a way to figure things out without having actual lives on the line.”
Sunset’s blood ran cold at that thought.
“Oh, right… someday it won’t be practice. It’ll be real.” Sunset gulped at the thought of having so many lives in her hands, including her oath-sisters and all of Golden Tree. Nay, all of the Western Territory.
“It will. But that’s why you’re going to learn. And why we’re going to practice and find a style of governing that fits not only you, but the Western Territory. But, that’s enough of that for now,” Raven said as she offered her arm to Dylis and rose to her feet. “Why don’t you and Philomena take a break, and then we can begin with the first, basic lessons on how governments function and the law making.”
“Goody,” Sunset grumbled in an unenthusiastic tone as she also offered her arm to Philomena and got to her feet.
*****
Sunset’s quill danced across a sheet of parchment on her desk, a messy string of notes filling the page as she consulted her runic manuals. Behind her, the floor was littered with dozens of crumpled-up sheets, each one discarded with contempt.
Sitting behind her, Sunset could feel Philomena’s concerned eyes on her as she sketched out a new runic circuit, only to growl in frustration and toss it aside before grabbing a fresh leaf and starting anew.
Okay, that’s it, Philomena sent as she leapt from her perch and glided over to Sunset’s desk, landing roughly on its surface. What are you working on? Because ever since we got back from your lessons, you’ve been face deep in your books.
Her concentration broken, Sunset shot Philomena a scathing glare. It had little effect on the phoenix, who returned the look with one of her own.
Breathing out an annoyed sigh, Sunset closed the book she was examining and tossed the quill down.
Just taking Raven’s advice, and thinking long term, Sunset said as she leaned back in her chair, her arms hanging limply beside her.
Oh, and how are you doing that by giving yourself a headache and sore eyes? Because that sounds like both a short and a long term problem.
Mena…
What? You’ve been acting… weird. Even for you, Philomena sent as she looked down at the mess of half-drawn runes and copious notes in arcane script. Sunset could feel her confusion at all of it through their bond. And what is all this?
Like I said, I’m trying to plan for the long term, Sunset said as she rubbed her eyes with the palms of her hands. Today made it pretty clear I’m not ready to rule the Western Territory. Yet. And everything around Highblood’s treason made me realize that I need to be vigilant when I do.
Philomena cocked her head as she considered what Sunset was saying.
It sounds like you’re expecting trouble.
I am. After that first council meeting, and everything that went on with the phoenix-rite, I think that not watching our back is one of the biggest mistakes that we could make.
I thought that would be letting your sisters Pinkie and Rainbow attend council meetings.
Funny, Mena, Sunet sent with a sidelong look at her partner. Honestly, that’d probably be up there, if only for the chaos they’d cause, and the headache I’d have trying to keep them from getting arrested. A bored Pinkie or Rainbow Dash is just asking Discord to look your way.
It’d be entertaining though.
For a little while, then I’d probably have to spend the rest of the evening getting whatever Heliopolan noble they decided to glue to their chair to drop the charges, Sunset sent with a shudder. Thanks, but no thanks. I like my sisters alive and free, thank you very much.
In any case then, what’s all this got to do with this desire to feed your perfectly reasonable paranoia? Philomena sent as she gestured with her beak to the mound of papers Sunset had discarded or was in the process of writing notes down on.
Just something that Raven’s little riddle got me thinking about.
The mountain and butterfly thing?
Yea, Sunset sent as she leaned forward and rested an arm on the desk. There’s another answer to her riddle that came to me after we ended our lessons: a butterfly is small enough to see things that a mountain can’t. The mountain sees things at an enormous scale, but a butterfly can see the tiny details. And can hide itself so that nobody knows it’s there.
You lost me a little there, Sunset, Philomena sent as she walked over to her bondmate and gently nudged Sunset’s hand with her beak.
Mena, I’m going to be an artificer. And that means I’m going to be able to enchant things. Raven’s made it pretty clear with that room-sized amp of hers that the power of the flame is far more versatile than I ever imagined, Sunset sent as she lifted her hand and affectionately petted Philomena’s head.
That’s nice and all, but you still haven’t explained yourself.
That’s because I haven’t really figured out what exactly I’m going to do yet, Sunset admitted as she lowered her hands and shuffled the papers on her desk. All I have is an idea: find a way to use the ability of a butterfly to hide in plain sight to my advantage. And see things that maybe certain individuals want hidden. Something I could make that could act as my eyes and ears in places where the people who want to hurt us didn’t want us to get to.
It sounds like you want to make your own personal Eyes of the Sun, Philomena sent as she walked to the edge of the desk and, spreading her wings, took to the air, landing on her perch moments later.
Something like that, Sunset sent as she rose from her chair and started gathering up the discarded papers. All I have right now is an idea. I don’t even know if it’s actually possible, but if I can make it work, well, it’d give us a huge advantage while playing the game against the Heliopolans.
Doesn’t sound like a lot to go on.
It’s why I’m getting started now, Sunset sent as she walked across the study and to the fireplace. Thing is, figuring out the runes for the kind of enchantment I want is going to take a while. And, it’s just the first part. I know some of the basic processes for enchanting, but it’s mostly just theory outside making and powering temporary runic inscriptions or basic spell tempering. To make something with a permanent enchantment is a bit beyond me at this point, even if I could use my flame like I used to.
Sounds like a waste of time to me, Philomena sent. Wasn’t there another lesson we got today about recognizing when we don’t know enough?
Sunset shot her a sidelong glance.
Hence all of this, Sunset deadpanned as she lifted the pile of crumpled papers, before she tossed them into the fireplace. After taking a deep breath and focusing her mind, she transformed her hair into a single, long tendril and extended it to the pile of papers. Once in contact with the mound, she concentrated on making her hair searing hot, causing the parchment to ignite. Relaxing her focus and gasping from the effort, her hair reverted to its natural state. I just have to face the fact that I’m not ready to even begin figuring out what I need to do.
Well, glad you’re being reasonable about it, Philomena sent with a smug lilt.
First bit of wisdom that got dumped on me today, Sunset sent as she walked back to her desk and slumped down into her chair. Still, nothing says I can’t start brainstorming ideas for later. After all, the queen also said I should have a goal when I make things. Might as well try to come up with something to do just that.
Just don’t drive yourself crazy about it.
Nah. That’s your job, Mena, Sunset sent as she looked back over her shoulder and smirked at her bondmate.
You’re hilarious, Philomena sent with a huff.
I try.