Twilight composed herself. There were some questions to Last Light that needed answering. She had a bit of time, and then a meeting with the Gryphon Emperor. Tanzil had been invited to Canterlot for a day or two so the two nations could be on the same page concerning the Silo incident.
First, however, she needed to come clean.
“Princess? What can I do for you?” Director Shield said, clearly surprised by the call.
“Is this line secure?”
With a few taps of the keypad, the video connection shimmered.
“It always is, but I’ve just activated our highest levels of encryption. What’s going on?”
“How have you avoided having spies in your midst?” Twilight asked pointedly. “There was…a glitch with the previous communication. I heard what Mally said. Is it all true?”
Toxic let out a tired breath, his shoulders sagging for a moment. He looked away as if collecting his thoughts. The pony that looked back at Twilight was a very different individual than a few seconds ago. There was a fierceness, a fire and drive within the eyes that had drawn tens of thousands to the organization. There was also the ever-present restraint, the feeling that many words were held back.
“I already sent a message to Discord for that stunt. I wasn’t pleased, but I was grateful in a way,” Toxic admitted. “Yes. Everything she said was true. However, I won’t apologize for it.”
That made Twilight stare, and Toxic met her gaze without so much as a waver. There were many times the mare forgot that Toxic Shield, and his nation, had the blessing and protection of beings on the same level as the Tree of Harmony. That wasn’t without reason.
The leader of the Last Light Organization had faced things far more terrifying than a Princess, and it showed. She suspected that the Organization’s counsel led day-to-day formalities because Toxic refused to put up with the diplomatic games.
Considering the occasional rumors of theatrics that occurred around the stallion, such a thought wasn’t out of the question. A few instances involving Toxic and rude diplomats gave credence to that.
“Then my question is certainly valid,” Twilight muttered. She wanted to apologize but it didn’t fit. She wouldn’t, not to Toxic at least. Mally deserved to hear those words. But first, business. “Have you had any spies? You say Equestria is rife with them.”
“Yes, to both that question and statement,” Toxic rumbled.
“How have you ferreted them out? I would request that you share your methods so I can push efforts in Equestria to do so.”
There was the slightest wince on Toxic’s face.
“Our methods are incompatible with yours, Highness.”
“How so?”
“They were promptly executed.”
Twilight stared, her thoughts grinding to a halt.
“What?”
Toxic tapped a few keys, bringing up a few reports to glance over.
“We had spies in our midst about five years ago. That was a few years after we fully realized the threat that was out there was a singular entity, the Stairway Company. We used similar but more thorough magical scans and tracking than you are likely comfortable with. But it was a time of war, for all intents and purposes. It was when we learned they were embedded in the highest levels of government across multiple nations, and they were trying to do the same with us. After extensive investigation and confession, the agents were de-horned and executed within our court system discreetly. We haven’t had any issues since.”
“That that’s not right,” Twilight said before she could stop herself. Equestria’s requirements for the death penalty were the strictest in the world, if not utterly abolished at this point. To know this Organization was operating on such a level, to create an artificial wartime environment to root out a few creatures…
How could they?
“You’ve always seen yourself as better than us,” Toxic said sadly. Despite the disappointment in his eyes, then was a non-negotiable strength. “It’s been obvious for a while. But that’s why you’ve failed. You recognize the lesson of the world but haven’t internalized it.”
“Don’t lecture me, Toxic Shield,” Twilight growled, “I know how to run a nation!”
“To a point,” the unicorn snipped back with a glare, not about to be intimidated. “You think I don’t?”
His brazen response nearly made the mare snarl, but Twilight held her tongue.
You own a large militia and a bunch of islands with good but childish intentions. There’s a difference.
“You know how to run a nation with certain rules. The world doesn’t always obey those rules, Highness. There’s one lesson I worry you haven’t understood,” the stallion said.
“And what would that be?”
Toxic’s eyes narrowed, his respectful demeanor hanging on by a threat. Twilight knew she was being prideful, but she didn’t care. She hadn’t dedicated years of studying politics and learning from Celestia to be lectured by just some-
“Some creatures in this world only respect the gun and sword. Power. They only answer to it. They will respect nothing else,” Toxic sighed, expression softening to that of concern. “I worry you won’t learn that lesson until too late. Such creatures would gladly take advantage of your friendship and hospitality. We’d be there to help if you were in trouble, however.”
Twilight’s previous thoughts fragmented. Guilt stabbed her in the heart. Had she written off this pony just because of her own prowess?
More than that, have I never taken this organization seriously?
Have I never taken Toxic seriously?
“And that’s why you killed them? To what, send a message?” she asked, stowing her other thoughts.
“And because of their crimes. We sent their severed horns to the executives of the Company. We warned them that if they sent so much as a single creature to our island again, we’d use maximum force to destroy the organization down to the last creature, across every nation,” Toxic said. “We received a single word in response. ‘Understood.’ We haven’t had any issues since.”
Twilight was quiet for a few moments as she collected her thoughts.
“Why didn’t you warn us?” she finally asked.
Toxic’s sad smile told her all she needed to know even before he spoke.
“We did. Multiple times. The messages were clearly lost in the bureaucratic winds, intercepted, or not taken seriously. We tried to warn you for years. I believe you said that I was reading too much into things during our final exchange, one of many. I took that as a sign that further warnings wouldn’t be taken seriously. The subsequent attempts proved me right.”
Did I say that? Dismissing his warnings over and over again?
Have I been wrong for so many years?
The thought hit Twilight harder than she thought possible. Was her system truly so inefficient, so corrupt that not only could one fall through the cracks, but it allowed evil to fester and grow? Cracks began to form in her mind. Had she been too trusting, too removed?
“My organization walks a dangerous line, Highness. I acknowledge that. The process so many creatures believe in doesn’t always work. We are here for when it doesn’t,” Toxic said.
“You would have taken on the Company if they hadn’t stopped?”
Toxic was quiet for a moment, his brow furrowed.
“I don’t know. It would have been a war across all fronts. But we’d have won. The threat wasn’t made idly if that’s what you’re asking.”
That statement alone was telling. Twilight knew they were powerful, but such a statement spoke to a far greater strength publicly known.
“If you knew they presented a danger, why didn’t you? The war across all fronts?”
He shrugged at that, the fire in his eyes fading to general tiredness.
“Ultimately, because we abide by the laws of Equestria and other nations so you all can live in peace,” Toxic said, “We value our relationships, and such a conflict would have destroyed our relations with every nation influenced by the company and done more harm than good. I question that last statement, however, with the new information. Perhaps we should have acted with the evil we now are discovering. We’re certainly preparing if the worst should happen.”
“You mentioned covert operations in that previous call and some investigation teams. I assume these preparations have to do with that?”
Twilight’s question immediately made the guarded look come back into Toxic’s eyes.
“I’m not going to answer that question, Highness. My previous statement stands. We take the brunt of public perception so the majority of creatures in your nation, and others can live in blissful ignorance of the evil that exists whether the rest of the world wants to acknowledge it or not.”
It was an insult, advice, or both. Twilight chose not to comment on it. She made a mental note to talk to Celestia about this.
“If anything, please take my words as warning,” he said. “The operatives we executed weren’t some harmless creatures. They were responsible for more than fifty murders in our nation, ten of them being children. They didn’t deserve the painless death that was given to them. Many voices certainly wanted the opposite of such a merciful sentence.”
That made Twilight’s eyes widen.
“We’re prepared to meet this evil head-on. If Equestria or other nations aren’t, that’s why we’re here. I mean to try and show points of improvement, not blithely condemn your nation.”
“And yet you do.”
Toxic didn’t disagree, the unicorn shrugging in acknowledgment.
“I started this organization in part because Equestria failed me. Specifically, Celestia did, in a similar way Equestria has failed Arcane. Nobody is perfect, but it’s clear to me now that there are failures systemic within Equestria, not bound to an individual, and therefore my stance has to be bolder. I know our actions can be antagonistic. But if the end result is for the better, then so be it.”
Twilight couldn’t hold her tongue at that. She had tried to be civil with this organization. Celestia had given her lessons and pointers specifically concerning Last Light, yes, and maybe the Princess should have put more effort. But this was not the cordial conversations you have with diplomats! She didn’t have the patience of Celestia, and she had tried to be friendly with both Toxic and his rag-tag group of islands.
“You’re a bit antagonistic yourself, Director. You haven’t been like this in past talks. Another ruler condemning another isn’t how friends act to one another.”
“Friends?”
A dangerous glint showed in the unicorn’s green eyes at that, and with that single word, the mare abruptly realized she’d pushed Toxic too far. The diplomatic mask on the unicorn’s face shattered, and there was no more respect in his gaze, only a general, unmasked distaste. It was as if a light switch had been flipped, an invisible line crossed from where there was no retreat.
“We’re not friends, Princess Twilight Sparkle,” Toxic growled. “Why would we be? You certainly haven’t extended a hoof in friendship. You’ve clearly never taken me or this nation seriously.” There was a brief flash of pain in Toxic’s gaze as he spoke those words, the unicorn continuing. “I’ve been patient with your rule, but I don’t play politics like other creatures. This situation has pushed me to my limit of tolerating your, and Equestria’s ineptitude. I’ve left the pleasantries to the council, but this event has required my personal attention due to the failures of multiple nations, mainly Equestria’s!”
I truly did fail. I really haven’t learned.
Celestia, you tried to tell me. You tried to warn me for years. Over two hundred years to learn and I’m still a student in so many ways.
I’ve been a fool.
“That’s hardly-” Twilight began, wanting to backtrack now more than anything, but the unicorn wasn’t having it. The mare realized that the reserved pony she had been conversing with over the years was very much a forced, professional pleasantry. Celestia had warned Twilight multiple times that Toxic’s relationship, while at least somewhat mended with herself, it was brand-new with the younger Alicorn. But Toxic had always seemed friendly.
Yet the pony speaking to her now was far more genuine than any friendly interaction in the past. There was no mask, no buffering of respect. Twilight hadn’t realized how fragile their relationship was. Toxic’s friendliness hadn’t been out of trusting Twilight, but Celestia’s choice of a successor.
I didn’t try hard enough to be a friend. I assumed you’d accept me as you accepted Celestia. And you did, for your part. You gave me the benefit of the doubt, but did I do the same?
Did I give you a chance?
I was wrong.
Toxic wasn’t done, not even close. All Twilight could do was listen. Speaking her mind had gotten her into this mess, after all.
“I doubt you’ve ever listened to a mother cry herself to sleep because you failed to rescue her son. Have her beg you to intervene. Had to tell her no because laws have to be followed, public perception and politics meant more than a life,” Toxic spat in disgust.
“I have to live with the knowledge that we could have saved Arcane if we dug deeper into the rumors. But we trusted in Equestria’s process and investigating further would have damaged our relationships. So, the perception of Equestria was deemed higher value. The same nation who continually lambasts our ‘cult-like, military structure’ yet throws a temper tantrum if we’re a few minutes late to any crisis across the globe!” he snarled. “I’ve heard nothing but silence from you when these criticisms come to light. No defense or even acknowledgment that Equestria’s complaints might be negatively impacting us!”
The unicorn’s green eyes were narrowed with barely-contained anger, the beginnings of a snarl forming on Toxic’s lips.
“I think it’s time Equestria had a reality check of what the real world is like. Of how our blood and tears are shed in silence so your subjects can have a life of harmony and peace which lets them voice their grievances against my nation!” It was only then that Twilight saw him shaking with frustration and rage as the stallion slammed a hoof onto the metal floor, a loud clang echoing around the room. None of his words surprised her, however.
The fact he was only now berating Twilight spoke to the unicorn’s self-control. Last Light had only given measured responses to any criticisms, and Twilight had been foolish enough to think nothing had been internalized for over a century. This had been festering for some time.
And I ignored it because I partially agreed.
“As time has passed, I’ve only grown to loathe even more the political games that seem to be as ageless as myself. Perception meaning more than someone’s life. The first time I saw it happening I put on a suit and rescued Varti’s daughter. I’ve borne the brunt of failed promises of rescue and safety before. Because of Equestria’s inadequacies, I now am burdened with the same failure as Celestia because of you.” His last word was a condemning, almost hateful growl, the word hanging on the air. The furious glare of the unicorn’s eyes didn’t leave Twilight. There was no fear in his eyes, no sense of respect for a crown. If anything, the unicorn was talking down to Twilight, and it threw her off guard.
“But this time it wasn’t because I overestimated myself, but both you and your nation’s capabilities. I won’t have that happen again, and it’s clear our agreements need to be revisited and modified immediately to reduce any potential weaknesses Equestria may impose on our operations. If I must put on my armor to save the ponies Equestria is unable, or unwilling to, then so be it. You may be perfectly content to put the needs of the many over the one without a second thought, but my nation was built to save that one creature! “
The shimmering of a breastplate began to adorn the unicorn’s frame, tears welling up in his eyes. “They might be just a pony to you, Highness. But we’re all willing to sacrifice at the chance of saving one voice crying out for help. Can you say the same?” the stallion’s voice was stern, his eyes locked onto Twilight. Ancient metal pauldrons weaved onto his shoulders, a fire burning in the stallion’s eyes as he stared down the ruler of Equestria. The mare could only realize one of her many failures was treating this pony as a typical diplomat.
But he’s not. Toxic’s a warrior.
“You’ve saved the world before, Princess. But if there was just one voice in the darkness begging to be saved, would you go against everything to try? What would you risk to save the one creature nobody else cares about? What would you do to save the single innocent voice begging against all hope for help?” His eyes narrowed, the armor across the unicorn’s chest glowing a soft blue.
“Would you even try?”
Twilight’s mouth hung slightly open. She didn’t have an immediate response as Toxic stared at her. The hesitation made shame tear at the mare’s heart. Toxic believed every word as the armored stallion glared at the ruler of Equestria with an unshakeable strength.
I haven’t learned the lesson you tried to teach me, Celestia. I treated him like just another pony, the leader of some local charity club. I never took him seriously, deep down, because he didn’t have the training or the study. He wasn’t chosen to rule.
I let my status go to my head.
I made the same mistake. I thought everything I did was right.
I never thought I was wrong.
“I thought not,” Toxic said softly, a thread of disappointment underlying his words. The stallion’s steely gaze still didn’t leave Twilight’s.
“Director, can we-”
“Consider this a professional courtesy,” Toxic interrupted with a dismissive wave of his hoof, “that as a fellow ruler, I’m informing you that at least one of our fleets will be patrolling near the facility in the Badlands to handle any breaches. We’ll offer Arcane Flare a place here in our nation, as we’re the only organization with anti-chaos measures to give him a comfortable life. If he accepts, I’ll inform you of such. Any further communications will be sent through the Counsel’s delegation to Equestria. They have a team specifically focused on this matter. As an additional courtesy, we’ll share relevant data concerning the Company and appropriate operations and deployments within Equestria on a need-to-know basis.” The unicorn paused, and the rage cooled for a moment.
There was a genuine softness in his green eyes now, a tender pity as he looked at the Princess. With what felt like an electric shock, Twilight realized Toxic’s expression was sincere, even though anger tried to push it aside.
He still wants to help.
Not just Equestria, but me.
“I truly want you to succeed, Princess, even if my words are condemning,” Toxic said softly. “But I cannot have your or Equestria’s growing pains affect those who trust me with their wellbeing and safety. I have creatures to care for too, you know. They may not be as numerous as Equestria’s, but their lives are worth more to me than your nation ever will be. That’s a lesson I was forced to learn long ago. That’s the only time I can let myself think of many needs outweighing one of anything. I don’t think you’ve ever realized that we have similar worries. That we’re more alike than different.”
The stallion took a deep breath, shaking his head before looking up. “When your rule began, I had hoped that you’d continue to treat me and my nation with the same respect Celestia did during her reign.” The stallion smiled sadly, genuine grief and disappointment radiating from his green eyes. “I’d even hoped we could be friends. I’ve tried to reach out as best I could, but…”
Twilight’s heart dropped out of her chest and into her hooves as the stallion’s eyes dampened, the pony shaking his head and looking away.
“I was wrong. Take care, Princess Twilight Sparkle. No matter what, we’re here if you need us.”
The connection was terminated, and Twilight was left staring at a blank screen with both a million words she wanted to say…and none of them being fitting.
His last words had been soft and utterly without anger or condemnation. Only regret. And they drove a knife into Twilight’s heart all the same. A cold ball of horror stood where Twilight’s heart once was.
Even after all he went through, I looked down on him. I looked down on somepony who could have been a friend even when time passes for everyone else.
Celestia even tried to guide me. All I had to do was continue what she had started. To give the bare minimum of respect to a fellow nation as I’ve done countless times before and see them as an equal.
I failed.
The tears flowed freely, Twilight angrily slamming a hoof down on the table and causing the wood to shatter into dust. A stray magical spark punched a hole in the television screen, the mare gritting her teeth. Toxic’s outburst had been hurtful, rash, and utterly condemning of both Twilight’s actions and Equestria as a whole.
And he was completely right.
I took his respect for granted, took his friendship for granted.
“You certainly haven’t extended a hoof in friendship.”
Toxic’s recalled statement made the mare’s eyes widen, her jaw quivering.
‘I had even hoped we could be friends.’
This pony had hoped to be friends with the Princess of Friendship, and what had she done?
I never tried to be his friend. I always thought he was just a pony.
The words hit her with the force of a physical punch to the gut. The thought couldn’t be taken back and they screamed inside Twilight’s mind. Toxic had uttered them first, but now the true meaning of them tore into the mare’s heart and mind like a serrated axe, laying bare all of Twilight’s failures.
‘They might be just a pony to you.’
Her sides began to shake with horrified, self-loathing sobs, Twilight covering her face with a hoof as she leaned against the couch at her side. The regalia was tossed off her head almost spitefully, the mare’s heart wracked with guilt that couldn’t be explained in words.
The one pony who needed to know that I was on their side and the Princess of Friendship didn’t even try to befriend them. I looked down on him.
Because I thought I was better. That I wasn’t…
Twilight didn’t even register how much time passed. All she could think about were the systematic failures. Everything was categized in her mind. There were so many. Hundreds, thousands of missed chances to treat Toxic Shield as an equal, to hold his nation at the same status others had. To show that Twilight wanted to help, that she wanted to be a friend. The organization and Toxic had reached out regularly over the years, inviting her to some function or another. And while she had attended a few out of courtesy, there hadn’t been much else of an effort on her part.
Or any effort, for that matter.
Twilight had been friendly, but that was very different. She had been a ruler trying to talk down to a foal, especially with their ‘one versus many’ viewpoint. The burden was on her to extend friendship, not Toxic. He had done so with Celestia and likewise trusted her successor. But why would he try and befriend her, a ruler who clearly had been radiating nothing but prideful superiority in every conversation? Even with Twilight’s suspicions and looking down on Toxic’s nation, he had been friendly and courteous despite his personal feelings. The invitations to Twilight still were sent despite her views along with Equestria’s unchallenged and childish criticisms. That showed more of his character than hers.
But the Princess of Friendship had not only ignored somepony who could have been a friend but simply brushed them aside. Of the few creatures in the world who could have been a friendly face as time passed, she hadn’t even extended a genuine hoof in friendship. She had been naïve in thinking her silence concerning Equestria’s critics against Toxic’s nation had been unnoticed.
I’ve only ruled barely a decade or two more than Toxic. But I never even gave him or his life’s work a chance. A warrior who has built a nation dedicated to helping others, and I looked down on him. Despite having the blessings of creatures I trust and other rulers like Emperor Thunderwing and his Order, I still didn’t see him as my equal. All because I was chosen to rule and I had the studies to back it up.
All because I thought Equestria was better.
Because I thought I was better.
I thought.
A chime went off, signifying her next meeting, but it only pulled Twilight slightly back to reality. She really should go to her personal chambers and cancel the meeting. The Emperor would-
“Princess? Are…”
Tanzil’s voice trailed off. Twilight couldn’t see him through the tears. The makeup spell on her face was useless at this point. She was hardly the picture of a mare who had her affairs in order, let alone royalty.
She didn’t care.
Tanzil easily put the two and two together. He was a smart gryphon, and far more empathetic than most. The shattered table and hole in the television were signs enough for him. A feathery wing tentatively draped itself over her shoulders. No words were said, but Twilight appreciated the comfort a friend could offer. No judgment, simply a caring presence as he sat next to her. The Emperor carefully removed his crown, placing it off to the side. The gesture was symbolic enough. This wasn’t a moment between two rulers, but friends.
At least I didn’t ignore Tanzil.
Why couldn’t I have been so open with Toxic?
Why couldn’t I have tried to be his friend? To take seriously his life’s work? Haven’t I wanted the same respect?
When did I start to think I was above all of that?
When did I think I was different?
Twilight knew her own failings were the answer. She wasn’t better than the unicorn, not even close. Even with his stern words, Toxic promised to help her, and Equestria if they needed it. That spoke to the integrity and determination of the unicorn’s character, along with his nation. And what had Equestria ever offered them in return? What had Twilight offered to a fellow creature untouched by time other than prideful conversation?
Can I still fix this?
She didn’t have an answer to that.