Canterlot hadn't changed a single bit since I was last here, two years ago. It was all the exact same architecture, the exact same aroma, the exact same ponies, the exact same wealth as always. Not that I can throw stones in that direction... or could, I guess. I hadn't actually had much experience with Canterlot itself, per se; most of my time here had been spent at the palace, first under glorified house arrest and then in what amounted to a self-imposed exile. Celestia had, to her credit, attempted to socialise me with ponies – undermined by most of them being roaring twatflaps, of course, but there were at least a few decent apples in the cesspool that I had the pleasure to meet.
Hopefully, this visit would change that, a little bit. My plans were to stay here for at least a few days after the Summer Sun, doing a little bit of field research. The main celebration was tomorrow morning, which gave me about ten hours of work-time to use before then, factoring in my sleep schedule (which could practically be measured in geological epochs; I rarely slept for less than nine hours) and my own preparations for the announcement closer to the time.
I'd shown up to the palace along with Blueblood (who quickly went his own way) early in the afternoon the day before, most of which I'd spent talking with Celestia about the logistics of the Summer Sun Celebration, and how I was going to fit into it, as well as some less important matters. She was kind enough to offer me a guest room in the palace for me to use for the week, which made a very pleasant change to my now-usual living room couch back home.
Now, though, the next morning, I had some research to do.
The plan was to try the Canterlot Library first, as a sort of general information gathering – facts, figures, whatever useful I could glean, really. I was still woefully uninformed about the general state of affairs in Equestria, and what little I knew was either outdated or second-hand, from, eh... biased sources. Independent research was necessary.
Second, was a session of mingling with the high-and-mighty of Canterlot. Not during the Summer Sun, of course – not only would I be busy with my whole shebang, but also I would be practically joined to the hip with Celestia the whole time, since I was technically a foreign dignitary, and security was understandably wary of me going off unsupervised. Not to mention me needing some actual legitimacy, in order to not look like a complete idiot in front of thousands.
Afterwards, though... the nobility just couldn't resist the chance to throw after-parties after important events, and the Summer Sun was no exception. Technically speaking, it wasn't open to the public, but with any luck, my proximity to the Crown, in addition to my own status as a sovereign, should hopefully be enough to get me through the doors. If not, well... at a pinch I could ask Blueblood for a favour, or if not then I could simply try vox pops on the street. That'd get me some high-up perspective which, whether I liked it or not, would be extremely valuable.
Finally, if there was any time left in the week, I hoped to find a few of the common folk, mostly around Canterlot instead of inside it proper, and ask for their viewpoint. It was low priority, since I doubted there'd be many ponies living around Canterlot with any meaningful insight – though at least I'd discarded my earlier notion that there weren't any of them here at all. Someone, after all, had to be running all the stores and salons and restaurants and sewage outlets, and it wasn't going to be any aristos.
So, with that in mind, and with a veritable scrapbook of blank paper in a repurposed saddlebag, I set off towards the library. It wasn't too far from the palace, only about ten minutes away, though I was still attracting some attention. Many, many ponies I came across stopped whatever they were doing to stare at me, some whispering amongst themselves. Fortunately, a few seemed to recognise me, and soon the word had spread that, no worries, it was just that weird creature from a while back that the Princess vouched for. By the time I had reached the library, even aside glances were hardly being thrown my way.
The Canterlot Public Library was exactly how I had imagined it would be – massive, antique, and incredibly garish. It was organised as one enormous space, the bookshelves that served to cordon off areas reaching up multiple stories, with no apparent way to retrieve the books held that high up. Practically every single piece of furniture was gilded in some fashion or another – even the reception desk had a golden image of two ponies circling a star embossed in its front.
"Why, hello there, mister," said the librarian, dropping me out of my rubber-necking. "First time in Canterlot?"
I dropped my gaze down to the reception desk, along with the pony behind it. She was a pretty typical-looking unicorn, with a tight bun of a mane and some thin, reedy glasses that just screamed 'elevated book nerd,' together with a neat smile that spoke of blissful fulfilment in her position. "Not exactly," I said by way of answer. "I was here two years ago. It's just my first time seeing the library in person."
"Ah!" Her acid-green eyes lit up in recognition. "You must be that human, then! I'd wondered whatever happened to you, ever since you disappeared! I'm glad to see you weren't dragged off by the minotaurs, after all!"
"That's right," I confirmed. Really? Minotaurs? Even after all this time, rumours still cling to me...? "I'm the human. Adam Inns, First Minister of the Free State – though I probably shouldn't be saying that just yet." I gave her a contrite smile. "I'm just here to do some reading up, staying on top of current events. It's part of my job now, I figure."
"Of course, of course!" She nodded happily, trotting around her desk to reach me face-to-face. "What kind of material are you looking for?"
I allowed myself to be led by her deeper into the maze of bookshelves. "Hmm... let's see. My top priority is finding out about the socio-political situation in Equestria. Economics, quality-of-life, that sort of thing. See how satisfied the average person is with the Diarchy's administration. Maybe... check if there've been any major upheavals in recent memory."
"I see," the librarian said, immediately making a pinpoint turn into another passage. "Any particular time period?"
"Eh," I shrugged, speeding up to try to keep her in my line of sight. "Anything within the last... ten, fifteen years? Maybe up to forty for the bigger stuff."
I had to give her credit: she knew her way around the place. No sooner than I had finished speaking, she had already trotted off to another corner of the library, her muzzle locked in a single direction like a book-seeking missile. Soon, we had reached a small reading area, with a desk and chairs arranged in the middle of yet more excessively-tall bookshelves. Already, books and journals were fluttering down from their places to land on the desk, each suspended in a brilliant jade aura that cut out the second they landed on the table. "Here you are," said the librarian, not looking away from the shelves. "This is some material to get you started."
There wasn't much in front of me, I noticed. "Is this it? Don't you have any newspaper clippings, or anything like that?"
"What? No." She turned her head, left, then right, apparently searching for something. "We don't store anything of that nature here. You'd need to ask in the Royal Archives for that. It's in their name, after all."
Bugger. Looked like a large chunk of the Equestrian zeitgeist was off-limits, then. There was no way in hell Celestia was gonna allow me in the archives. She'd made that crystal clear to me when I'd asked, during my first stay. "I see," I said instead. "Well, I suppose this will do for now. Thank you for your help."
"You're very welcome," she said, immediately retreating back to her desk.
Better get on with it, then. I sat down on the too-small chair, unrolled my first blank sheet, and cracked open the first book, a small tome called Equestria After the Long Night. It sounded more like a post-apocalypse novel than anything useful, but I soon realised that it actually dealt with the immediate aftermath of the Equestrian civil war, about a thousand years ago.
The recovery period, as it was known, lasted for about thirty-five years, during which things were very unpleasant for the common pony. Celestia had grown lethargic, apathetic, presumably from having to now raise and lower the moon as well as the sun, which meant the central government was running at, effectively, half-capacity. Corruption was rampant, and neglect and degeneration was commonplace. It reminded me quite strongly of the period of chaos just after independence, from my own homeland – minus the whole magic thing, of course.
During this time, many towns and villages, the ones that slipped through the cracks where the big, populated cities couldn't, banded together in sort of quasi-federations, sharing supplies and services as needed, though they were ultimately still under Equestria, and willingly disbanded once Celestia finally got her head out of her arse (or, more likely, out of the bakery) and woke up again. The larger cities, full of important people, still got attention from the Crown directly, and so largely rode it out unscathed, though perhaps a little more austere than before.
Interestingly, although Equestria was still incredibly vulnerable to invasion – especially from the griffins and minotaurs, both of which had strong, warlike governments at the time – nobody even tried to have a crack at them. The worst it had gotten was a border skirmish between Trottingham and a griffin settlement, which had since been dissolved. I guess it'd be pretty difficult to invade when their ruler can hold a magnifying glass to your forces like a little kid going up against an anthill.
This was all well and good, but it wasn't really what I was looking for – this was practically ancient history. I needed something more recent.
History of the Evergreen; The Goldbeak Dynasty; The Age of Chaos; The Coldline: Equestria and the Crystal Empire... there was a lot of ancient history to get through. It was, in short, absolutely worthless. I had specifically asked for the modern period, right? Was I being punked right now?
Oh, no, here we... are? Eventually, near the bottom of the pile, I found an incredibly odd title staring me in the face – An Abridged History of the Equestrian Tax Code. A thrilling read, to be sure, but right now it was the best lead I had. Reluctantly, I cracked it open.
And gawped.
Holy fucking hell, what in the fuck is all this? I had inadvertently stumbled across a gold mine. The author, one Diligent Scribe, had, true to their name, been absolutely meticulous in their cataloguing, going back all the way to when it was first established a few years after unification, when it was a simple tithe of one's harvest. Since then, it had steadily evolved, from introduction of new crops, to new manufactured goods, services, industry, all the way to the date of publication, six years ago – a total history of three thousand years and change.
Diligent Scribe had logged each and every single change in it, from changes in existing laws to all-new ones, down to the exact day of each, and even giving the reasons why it had been done, or failing that, speculating on the cause, complete with information to corroborate it. Christ, and this was only the abridged version...
Hold the phone. Am I seeing this right? I flicked back from the modern age, back to a few hundred years, then back further, back into the antebellum period... Yeah, looks like it. Oh – no, there's one.
No tax had been meaningfully lowered for the last four-hundred and fifty years; tax cuts were generally rare, happening mostly before the Long Night. The last time it had happened, Celestia had finally caught wind of some dodginess, and had axed most of the Treasury Bureau, wiping more than a few exorbitant rates with them. It had served its purpose, for all of about eighty years, before hikes again became the norm, and rates rose past their previous level once more.
The last rate that was lowered was a trite one, about a hundred and ten years ago, concerning the legal difference between cookies and cakes, giving different rates for each. The change was a simple three-percent reduction for the latter. That was it. From then on, it was all either hikes for old ones, or making up new ones. The author did not make any special mention of this.
I checked back again, this time looking for the causes behind introducing new laws. For some, it was simply to close loopholes, as any good tax code has to, for instance to stop ponies from getting around the intoxicants' charges by concentrating them enough that they could get away with calling them cleaning products. Most, however, were introduced swiftly following the invention or introduction of some new technology, or product. Things like snowploughs, or new farming implements, or heating gems, or what have you. Many others were hiked up in tandem with them.
I'd read enough. Putting the book back down, I checked for any other books that might give me more to work with. Nothing leapt out at me immediately, so I chose to stand from my seat – whereupon one more title decided to make itself known to me.
Eyes in the Walls: Intrigue in the Court, ALW 650 – 975.
Now this looked like it would be right up my alley. A good look into the machinations of the Equestrian nobility was something I could use damn well, considering I was planning to talk to some of 'em. Sitting back down, I opened the tome.
Ooh. Apparently, six-fifty was a big year for the court, after the establishment of a Chancellery of Public Information Dissemination and Control. Some series of nasty scandals had rocked the highest levels of the aristocracy – and thus Celestia's government – which had quickly spread among the general population. Trust in the Diarchy was at unprecedented lows, which was saying something considering who was at its head, and it appeared drastic measures had to be implemented.
Thus, the PIDC was born, empowered with control over mass media and official propaganda distribution. Standard information control, as far as I saw it, though perhaps better suited for wartime rather than internal instability... although I didn't see anything about actually punishing those who had set the scandals off in the first place, so probably they were just too high up to merely dismiss without serious civil unrest following. Yeah... I can see that.
Over time, though, as the PIDC grew steadily busier and busier, things started to unravel somewhat. A little thing here, some infidelity from a baron there, and things slowly began to grow out of control. In ALW 731, the pony in charge of the chancellery, one Duke Loudmouth (seriously? Why would anyone name their child that?) petitioned for an expansion of their powers to include surveillance on problem individuals, ostensibly to head scandals off at the pass, or at least to do some damage control before they were discovered. What surprised me was that it was actually accepted.
Thus the PIDC metamorphosed into its final form, a combination PR firm and intelligence agency. Most of its time was monopolised by the Court, of course, as per its original mission statement, but a few expansions and budget surpluses allowed it to reach further and further into Equestria – first the big cities, like Baltimare and Manehattan, then into regional hubs like Appleloosa, Ponyville and Los Pegasus, and then into a select few tiny settlements that were deemed hotspots for trouble. (I suspected it was more nobles trying to fall off the radar for their nookie by going to the middle of nowhere, but whatever.)
Of course, somebody had to actually head the chancellery, and of course it had to be one of the nobles themselves. A bit of a loophole there, I figured, but whatever. Nowadays the PIDC seemed more like it was just a parent company of the major Equestrian newspapers, including the Manehattan Times, the Daily Bugle, even the Canterer, right here in Canterlot. I idly wondered how much dirt the chancellery had on me, considering it was the Canterer that blew the whistle on me in the first place.
Hmm. Well, this was all terribly interesting, but I had gotten myself sidetracked. None of this really told me that much about Equestrian society, per se, unless I felt like connecting some dots, which I didn't really have the time for right now. Oh... shit, lost track of time a little bit, there. I'd already spent four hours in here, and I still had appointments to keep. I made a mental note of the names of those books, to track down and analyse later, and stacked them all up neatly in the designated space. The scrolls I had with me - now chock-full of shorthand notes - went back into my bag.
On my way out, the librarian called to me. "Did you find what you were looking for?"
"Not exactly," I returned, pausing briefly. "But I think I still learned something new today. Thanks for your help."
"No problem!" came the cheery reply from behind me, as I hurried out the door. "Come again soon!"
In the evening, I had found myself with Celestia in the dining hall. It was getting pretty late, with only about an hour or two of sunlight left in the day, and I did need to get to bed earlier than usual to make the Summer Sun rendezvous, but the Princess had insisted I come along. Not that I would have refused anyway, despite my need to recheck my notes and finalise my plan of attack, because...
"Mmm," I hummed around a magnificently succulent chunk of beef fillet. "It's been too long since I had some decent bloody meat around here." I could practically feel myself absorbing the protein.
Celestia hid her grimace of disgust remarkably well, digging into her own meal, some kind of multicoloured flower salad. "I am glad you approve of it. Griffon exports are infamous for their extortionate rates."
"A small price to pay for quality." If there was one thing I missed about Canterlot, it was the chefs. My own culinary ability was only enough to ensure I didn't starve; I couldn't really afford to expand my knowledge, nor to experiment. Besides, I didn't have much variety in my diet to begin with. "I would have been fine with just fish, you know. Was there really a need to go all out?"
"It is customary to offer visiting dignitaries to Equestria meals matching their native cuisine," explained Celestia. "You made it clear to me that your species requires meat to survive."
"Technically, we only need the protein from it. We can live just fine as vegetarians, as long as you don't mind fish, or... I dunno, vitamin supplements or something. I only told you I'm omnivorous."
"Adam." Her tone was quite motherly, as if I'd just been caught out in a lie. "I've spent three thousand years reading between the lines of every interaction with other ponies. Don't think I can't see through you too. Supplements are not a staple of one's diet."
"Sure," I dismissed, growing bored with the topic, instead stuffing more delicious food down me. After a few moments of flavour, I resumed. "So, while I've got you here, I figured I could ask you to remind me exactly what I should expect tomorrow morning. Y'know, while I've still got time to rewrite and re-memorise my speech."
"Of course," she said. "The first event will be, of course, the Call of the Sunrise at six-thirty, at the central square. I shall give the customary speech to start, then raise the sun. After that, the general festivities will begin; we shall travel around Canterlot and its surroundings for most of the remainder of the day, taking part. Finally, at the end of the day, a short speech concluding the celebration, and the Call of the Sunset, will cap the festival off."
"Really?" I paused to finish off the remnants of my meal. "I'd have thought there'd be... a little bit more to that, to be honest. Is the whole day really just going to be walking around the place, drinking punch or something?"
"Of course not," said Celestia, mopping up her own dinner. "My little ponies always create their own events for the Summer Sun Celebration. Whatever they choose, we shall partake in."
"Saves you the trouble of coming up with your own itinerary, right?" Celestia only smiled knowingly.
All I could do was shake my head, pushing my now-empty plate away. A servant immediately appeared at my side, taking the plate in their magic, before disappearing once more. "Darn," I said. "I can't think of a good time to make my own speech in all that, if it's just gonna be one big street party for the day." The sunset might not send a great message, and there's no way-
"Why not? Could you not simply give it during the Call of the Sunrise?"
I looked up at her, shocked. Oh... apparently there's yes way she'd agree to that. "I... didn't think you'd want me muscling in on your big thing there," I admitted. "It's your celebration, after all."
"Nonsense," she dismissed airily. "An achievement such as yours deserves to be celebrated. The Sunrise would only be enriched by your announcement."
I frowned. "...Okay." That was a little bit of a one-eighty from her previous stance on the matter. I tactfully declined from mentioning it to her, though, in case it'd make her change her mind. Being able to give my speech at sunrise was one hell of a windfall, at any rate. "Excellent." Then, my frown intensified, along with the escape of a despaired groan. "Oh, Christ, you're gonna make me get up at four in the fuckin' morning to get ready in time, aren't you?"
"Do not worry, Adam," crooned Celestia, smirking victoriously. "I'll get you ready for your big day tomorrow."
"Thanks." I didn't bother to acknowledge her words further, raising myself from my seat. "In that case, I'd better clock out early tonight. I've still got some revisions to make." I heard Celestia inhale as I turned to the door, but before either of us could do anything more, they opened in a purplish glow, revealing the figure of a unicorn that definitely didn't fit in with the rest of the palace staff. She only had eyes for Celestia, though, running inside at full tilt towards her.
"Oh, Princess! There you are! I've been looking all... over...?" She finally recognised my presence in the room, skidding to a halt and peering at me in incomprehension. Her cheeks coloured from their base lavender to a much redder tint. "...oh," she managed. "E-excuse me-"
"Ah, Twilight!" called Celestia, at once managing to snap her attention back towards her. "I am always glad to see you, my faithful student." She spread her wings wide, inviting this 'Twilight' to jump into a hug with her, which she did at once. "You've just caught me in the middle of a dinner with a friend."
"Technically the end," I interjected, as Twilight disentangled from Celestia and looked back to me. "Never hurts to be precise."
"Adam," began Celestia, spotting something come over Twilight with a glance of disquiet. "I'd like you to meet Twilight Sparkle, my personal protégé and faithful student." She motioned her over with a hoof, which Twilight responded to with a careful walk over to me. "Twilight, this is First Minister Adam Inns, one of my closest friends and confidants."
"Pleased to meet you, Miss Sparkle," I said, extending a hand, which Twilight quickly grabbed (with just a little too much enthusiasm) and shook.
"Please." Twilight smiled shyly. "Just Twilight is fine."
"Then by all means," I returned. "Call me Adam." I turned to look to Celestia for a brief moment, catching a nod, and looking back down to the unicorn. "Now, as much as I'd love to stay and get to know the Princess' own protégé, I do have work that needs doing before tomorrow. I'm afraid I must bid you two adieu."
"Of course," said Celestia, as Twilight already turned to trot back to her with eager steps. "I'll see you in my office tomorrow morning." Spinning on my heel, I waved vaguely behind me, and left the dining hall.
Some confidant I am, I thought, amused, as I made my way back to my guest quarters. She hadn't ever mentioned a student to me before. Probably wasn't too relevant, in any case, but still...
I let the situation slip out of my mind, instead returning to my task at hand. Right, the Summer Sun Shindig... speech at sunrise, then the rest of the day around Canterlot doing stuff, then a finale at the end. Gonna have to rework my speech a little, now that I can cram all my oblique metaphors in about new dawns. Hopefully the audience won't be restricted to the upper class, otherwise I might just get booed off the stage...
Before I knew it, I had arrived at my quarters. I didn't let the sight of gratuitous luxury sway me, instead moving over to the desk with my notes. I quickly got to work.
Right. Gotta praise Celestia slash Canterlot slash aristocracy at the start, then talk about Hooves, then the Free State, then gotta sell the concept, then throw in something about the sun. Bases are all more or less covered, except... I scribbled passages out here and there, replacing them with more suitable ones, perhaps thicker with feeling than before but certainly more fit for purpose.
The excursion at the library had given me some ammunition, as well. I didn't want to go all-in, as it were, based on only a few scant references in books that had since lost any relevancy to the modern day, but it did still give me a few ideas I could use. Those that sounded good, went in.
After only twenty minutes of work, I had a more-or-less finished draft. Reading it over one more time didn't reveal any flaws, so I decided to let it rest. Soon after, seeing the sun turn an even more brilliant shade of yellow through the window before it descended below the horizon, I decided to let myself rest too. Big day tomorrow, Inns.
Big day, indeed.
Six-fourteen.
"Are you sure this is how you wish to proceed?"
"Yes, I am, Princess. You asking me that five more times isn't going to change my mind, you know."
A wooden platform had been erected in the Canterlot square. Celestia and I, along with a couple aides for each of us, were in what amounted to a backstage area, hidden from view of the public. I could already hear a dull roar murmuring from behind the platform. Celestia was staring at me, and had been ever since she'd heard my post-it-note version of my speech. I was trying to avoid snickering, ever since the thought that it was a stare of suppressed lust had hit my brain. It kept the realisation that I was about to go up to a crowd of thousands out of there, at least.
Right now, we were waiting for a pony to go up and announce the beginning of the festivities. It was supposed to be the mayor of Canterlot, but apparently they were off sick with TB or something, so we had to get Prince Blueblood in instead. Naturally, he was off across the other side of the city, in some upper-class wine club. Fuck only knew why he thought it was a good idea to go to a wine tasting at two in the morning.
"I am only making certain that you know what you are going to do," said Celestia.
"Mmm," I replied, intelligently.
Six-sixteen.
“Adam?” A pause. “Are you sure you-”
“Yes,” I snapped. “I’m sure.” I tugged at the collar of my three-piece, tailored specifically for the occasion. It wasn’t terribly well put together, being a little baggy in places, but it was quite snazzy regardless. It made a big change from my usual basement-dweller attire, at any rate. “Christ, if I’d known you’d be like this I’d have arrived a day early and gotten it out of you then.”
This time, Celestia had nothing to say. She just kept staring at me.
Six-eighteen.
I rehearsed the event in my mind. First Blueblood, to introduce the Princess, who’d give her speech, and call me up at its end. Then I go, speak my piece, then leave it to Celestia to finish it off. It was delightfully simple, but that didn’t make the prospect any more appealing. Public speaking was not one of my strong points, and never had been. I could only hope I got absorbed enough in my speech to bypass my near-crippling anxiety.
I resorted to pacing back and forth. The simple motion of walking forward never failed to clear my mood and sharpen my faculties. A churning mass settled in my stomach that I tried my damnedest to ignore. I hoped and prayed I wouldn’t lose my voice halfway through.
“Adam?”
“Yes,” I all but shouted. “I am sure!”
Six-twenty.
Celestia ignored my outburst. “Perhaps you need something to calm the nerves?” She gestured vaguely in the direction of one of her assistants, who immediately scrambled over to her. At Celestia’s nod of the head, they then turned their focus on me.
“No, thank you,” I told them. “I’ll be fine.” I had to work pretty hard to keep a tremble out of my voice. “Just keep talking at me, Princess. Maybe that’ll help.”
And immediately… “Are you sure you want to do this?”
Snrk. Despite myself, something approaching a laugh snuck out of my throat. “Oh fucking hell.” My voice was noticeably airier than before, at least, along with my mood. Celestia had actually managed to snap me out of my funk, a little bit. “I swear, if you ask me that again, I’m gonna get Blueblood to read my speech for me. Then we’ll see who’s laughing.”
Six-twenty-two.
“That can be arranged,” said Celestia, smirking, as she glanced at something behind me. Turning around revealed to me that Prince Blueblood had finally made his appearance.
“Ambassador!” I called, grateful for any distraction. “Not to disparage you in any way, but you seem to be making a habit of arriving fashionably late.” Other than a nod, Blueblood didn’t acknowledge me, heading instead immediately up to the stage.
“You have one more chance to back out of this, Adam,” said Celestia, concern written all over her. “You don’t have to force yourself to do this.”
“I’m not forcing anything, your Majesty,” I replied. “I’m doing this for a good cause.” Just gotta remember that, when I’m up there…
Showtime. The murmuring behind the stage stopped at once, where Blueblood’s voice rang out to replace it. Celestia made her own move, checking over herself, then me, then the stage itself, one last time. Finding nothing out of the ordinary, she nodded once, and started up the stage. I made my own way over, just to listen in. I didn’t need to – an aide would give me my cue – but I could still be curious, and Celestia might give me something to throw in besides.
“Greetings, my little ponies,” began Celestia’s speech, ringing out clearly through the whole square. “I am glad and happy to see so many of my beloved subjects in front of me today, gathering to celebrate the peace and harmony that has been the foundation of Equestria for thousands of years. The achievements of all ponykind, be they cultural, scientific, or otherwise, are nothing short of incredible.”
I mostly tuned out the rest of it, mostly consisting of the usual aggrandising of Equestria, her subjects, and herself. It was surprisingly hollow, for how much she struck me as a kind and caring ruler. Maybe that was because her audience mostly consisted of the Canterlot citizenry, much of which doubled as her government, and thus had to be tailored specifically not to fuck with them.
Honestly, though, it seemed like a fine enough speech. Certainly much better than most addresses to the nation from back home that I could remember, since this one was not, at first glance, full of lies, bullshit, exaggeration, and an undercurrent of crippling despair underlining the whole sordid affair. Still flew in through one ear and out the other, though.
Six-twenty-five.
“However, before the Call of the Sunrise begets a new year for Equestria, I have one final announcement to make.” Welp, looked like my number’s up. No time to hesitate now. An aide waved a hoof at me, then the stage, and I dutifully climbed the steps, although I didn’t move further than the wall that hid me from the audience. “First Minister Inns, if you would kindly.” Oh shit, not even a prelude? Celestia turned her head to me from the podium, stepping back from it, and both her and the aide beckoned me out.
With slightly shaky steps, I exited the safety of the backstage, and took my place. Celestia stayed off to the side, giving me plenty of space.
Oh fuck me. A veritable sea of ponies stared at me from down below. That’s… a lot. That’s a lot of people. My breathing sped up, along with my heartrate. There had to be at least ten thousand of them. How in the hell did they squeeze so many in here?
There was no way in hell I could do this. I’m gonna fuck up, my speech is gonna be crap, I’ll be booed off the stage, there’s no way I won’t be… there’s no fucking way I can do this!
But there was. All those faces, staring up at me, were expecting me to do it. I couldn’t just stand here and gawp like a twat; that would be infinitely more humiliating than just giving my speech, crap though it may or may not be. I had to do it.
And so I did.
Even if it turned out a bit crap in the end.
I cleared my throat, trying to make sure my voice wouldn’t crack, or be too scratchy. “Ah, yes,” I began, far too quietly to be heard. I blinked, and tried again, this time loud enough to carry over the whole audience. “Good morning to you all. I’m afraid I must ask you to excuse any slip-ups that I might make; unfortunately, public speaking is not a forte of mine.” Yeah, great job, Inns, lower their expectations right at the start of the fuckin’ thing. I shook the errant thought out of me, and continued.
Step one. “For those of you who might not have heard about me, or might have forgotten, my name is Adam Inns. I arrived here in Equestria just over two years ago, through… unusual means, with only the clothes on my back to my name, and no way to return home. I was lost and confused, fearing that I would lose everything in this strange new land I’d found myself in, and doubtless I would have – if it weren’t for her Majesty, Princess Celestia, who, in her benevolence, offered me a helping, er, hoof, when I needed one most.” The ponies in the audience seemed to be eating it up, at least, which made me feel a little bit better. My speech gradually became more fluid; thicker and more genuine.
“I had found myself without a home, and the Princess gave me a room at her own expense, and eventually a home of my very own. I had found myself without a livelihood, and the Princess offered me one at the Court, at her own expense, and eventually allowed me to make my own. I had found myself without even anyone to call a friend, and the Princess offered one in herself, at her own expense, and eventually allowed me to find my own.” I kept the smile off my face, if not out of my tone. “In my original home, this would never have happened; not to somebody as unimportant as me, at any rate. To have the sovereign of a nation care so deeply for others, even those who are such total outsiders as I am… I speak no hyperbole when I say that to me, Equestria is quite possibly the closest thing to utopia as I can imagine.” I paused, seeing the audience swelling with pride. Makes sense, I guess, them approving of non-ponies kissing the earth they trod on.
Step two, then. “Unfortunately,” I continued, injecting some sorrow. “Not everyone was as fortunate as I was.” That quite decisively deflated the spectators, I saw. I gave them no time to gather themselves. “’To err is human,’ goes a saying from my home. Mistakes are a part of life, after all, and though Equestria may certainly be better than anything from there, it is still far from perfect – even today. Only three weeks ago, I received a visitor at my door – which, incidentally, is as close to being in the middle of nowhere as it might possibly be – asking for my help.” I raised my voice now, to properly convey my point. “They told me that they had been forsaken by their peers, left without a home, without a livelihood, and yes, without anyone to call a friend. They told me that they had nowhere else to go, any longer, and that they were now pinning all their hopes on me, in the desperate hope that finally, at long last, someone would reach out, as the Princess did to me, and offer a home, a livelihood, and a friend.”
I looked over the crowd again, seeing them eerily captivated. I found, to my surprise, that my anxiety had all but disappeared. “But that wasn’t the end of it. Only a scant few days later, a family of five came to me, seeking precisely the same thing – a home, a livelihood, a friend. This time, however, it was not the work of a mere pony, or even a group of them. This time, the culprit was Equestria itself.” The shocked gasps that followed were like music to my ears, though they swiftly reduced to murmuring and whispers. “Even the Princess, with all her power and morality, is not omnipotent, nor is she omniscient. Ponies are bound to fall through the cracks, left abandoned simply because the bureaucracy couldn’t get to them in time, or wasn’t even aware of their plight.” That’s enough of that, methinks. Let’s not derail the subject. “That’s not right. Not in Equestria.”
Step three. “Now, there’s one last detail about myself I’ve neglected to mention to you all.” I cleared my throat again, this time for effect. “Four weeks ago, I received a visit from Princess Celestia, herself. I won’t go into specifics for the sake of privacy; suffice to say that a series of events unfolded, at the end of which I was given sovereignty.” Another wave of gasps. “As a practical joke.” The exasperation with which I said the phrase at least morphed the crowd from shocked to amused. Evidently, they were quite familiar with the Princess’ tendency for poorly-thought-out merriment. “And yes, her Majesty played it out to the fullest extent. Allow me to introduce myself properly – First Minister Adam Inns, of the Free State of the White Tail Woods.”
Time to go in for the kill. “Now, to be sure, initially I had wanted nothing to do with this. I was perfectly content to continue my life as it was, in a cabin in the woods, reading the days away.” I’d only now realised I had lost track of time, and had to check quickly. It was only six-twenty-eight; plenty of time left before the Call. “It was all a big joke, after all, not worthy of consideration, and certainly an intrusion to my idyll – with no offense intended to your Majesty, of course.” I briefly dipped my head towards Celestia. “However, her Majesty had given me real, tangible power through the course of her actions. The visitor I received was what finally made me realise it – that, even unintentionally, the Princess had given me the power to change lives for the better. With that power, I could afford to give them a home, give them a livelihood, and give them someone to call a friend – and, yes, to do the same to those who came after her.
“That is what I offer to you now, Equestria – nothing less than what the Princess has already given me. For those of you who are without a home, I offer you one. For those of you who are without a livelihood, I offer you one. For those of you who are without friends, I offer you one.” I took in a deep breath, staring down as many single ponies in the crowd as I could make out. “And I’ll go one step further. To the tired, I offer a place for you to rest in. To the needy, I offer a place for you to be cared for in. To the hungry, I offer a place for you to be fed in. And above all, to the alone, to the unwanted, to the forsaken, I offer a place for you to find a community in.”
Six-thirty.
Step five – finish it off. “Let this Summer Sun Celebration bring a new dawn over all Equestria, where nopony ever has to go hungry, or homeless, or forsaken, ever again!” I threw my arms out wide – afraid for a split-second that no-one was going to react, or worse, start booing for trying to steal the show – but then, almost immediately, an ear-splitting cheer rang out throughout the Canterlot square, the crowd practically leaping up into the air. I quickly stepped back from the podium, allowing Celestia to take my place.
With a practised ease, she lifted into the air, wings outstretched but holding still, eyes glowing a brilliant white, soon to be followed by her horn. The darkness of the night quickly gave way to the dawn of a new day. The crowd hollered all the while, their eyes only for their princess.
I closed my eyes, breathing deeply, basking in my emotions. That was surprisingly easy, once I’d gotten into it. Sure, the butterflies were still there, though settling down now that I wasn’t in front of anyone, but for once that didn’t stop me from giving it my all. Huh.
Celestia trotted up to me, having concluded the sunrise ceremony. “A fine speech, Adam,” she said, eyeing me critically. “An excellent oration, too. I must admit, you’ve surprised me.”
“I’ve surprised myself,” I replied, a little breathily. “I can’t believe I managed to get through that whole thing without stumbling over myself once.”
“A shame,” she said. “You could have gone far in Canterlot.”
I smirked. “Should’ve thought of that before you gave my supreme overlordship to me, Princess.” I jerked my head forward. “Now then, I believe we have some celebrating to do.”
“Quite right.” Celestia and I walked off the stage side-by-side. In truth, I was looking forward to spending the rest of the day hanging around Canterlot – not to mention with my friend, Celestia – even if it was just a formality.
It also helped me distract myself from contemplating the repercussions, of which I didn’t doubt there would be many – and few of them good. Fuck it. As long as I can do some good, it’ll all have been worth it.