//------------------------------//
// Gathering Shadows 8 
// Story: The Lunar Rebellion 
// by Chengar Qordath 
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As soon as I could politely excuse myself from my fellow ephors, I sought out Commander Celestia. Whilst the title might no longer be hers in the eyes of the law, I suspect ‘twould be some time before I could bring myself to think of her in any other way.

I found her within the Commander’s Residence, gathering her followers and belongings as she made ready to depart. Archmagus Sparkle was, thankfully, notable only by her absence. Several lesser unicorn officials milled about the room, and my own entrance drew no shortage of hostile stares, but Celestia was quick to put an end to such displays. “Leave us. We would have words with Shadow in privacy.” Her servants were quick to follow her wishes.

Once ‘twas but the two of us in the room, I spoke my mind. “Commander, I offer you the hospitality of my clanhold for the remainder of your stay in Pegasopolis.” Whilst Cloudsdale did have lodgings set aside for visiting foreigners, they were sparse even by our own standards. Traditionally, visitors of any importance would quarter with one of the major clans, enjoying their hospitality. Clearly, my fellow Ephors would not make an offer to her after they had so recently deposed her, and I would not see her dwelling in a building more suited to common soldiery and visiting messengers than the true Commander of all Pegasopolis.

Commander Celestia gave a rueful shake of her head. “I have said before, Shadow, that in privacy thou might address me merely by my name.” Her ears fell flat and a haunted look crossed her eyes as she added. “And ‘twould not be wise to address me a by a title that I no longer possess. ‘Twould go poorly if thy fellows were to hear thee speak so.”

“If my words would offend some, then so be it. You are my commander, now and always.” I stepped forward and offered a salute.

“Neigh.” Commander Celestia gave a sad shake of her head. “Whilst thy loyalty is greatly appreciated, Shadow, that title has been taken from me in accordance to Pegasopolan law.” She turned from me, walking to one of the room’s windows and gazing out at the city. “And though it shames me to admit it, I cannot even bring myself to say that the Ephorate was wrong to act as it did. I have erred in my rule over Pegasopolis. Badly erred. I have taken thy loyalty for granted far too long, and this is the result.”

Her gaze drifted upwards, until it lay upon the very sun she controlled. Though ‘twas hardly surprising given her nature, I was still struck by the fact that she seemed untroubled by staring directly at the sun for an extended time. “It is said by many that I am like unto a goddess. All-powerful. All-knowing. Flawless. Would that such things were true.” She let out a heavy sigh. “I wonder if perhaps I have allowed myself to listen to such foolish talk for too long. If on some level, I began to fancy that such things were true. If I have forgotten what I truly am.”

She gave a bitter little laugh. “A goddess? ‘Tis a poor jest indeed.” She turned from the window and once more faced me. “The truth is far less flattering. I am simply a very silly alicorn, who once had a very clever idea: the creation of a mantle of power, drawn from the sun’s own energy. A feat anypony else might have managed, had they sufficient knowledge and magical skill. A mantle anypony might wield now, were they granted it. There are many, I suspect, who would use that power more ably than I.” She fell silent for a time, undoubtedly drawing 'pon memories more ancient than even my father's grandfather. “I’ve far greater knowledge than any ordinary pony, aye, but I’ve found little joy in that. In truth, my knowledge often only serves to make that which I am ignorant of all the more obvious. Clearly, my great wisdom does not extend to the realm of proper governance.” Her head fell, her eyes fixed ‘pon the clouds beneath her. “And yet, I am named a goddess. As I said, ‘tis a jest.”

I struggled to find the words with which to answer her. I was unaccustomed to seeing my Commander in a state of such melancholy. ‘Twas unsurprising, in the wake of her removal from power, but it still cast her in a light which I was unaccustomed to seeing. She spoke to me not as Commander, Queen, or Chancellor, but merely as Celestia. ‘Twas a most disturbing thing. “Does it pain you so much, to have a title you seldom exercised taken from you?”

“It is not a matter of titles,” she answered me. “In truth, it matters little to me whether my subjects name me Queen, Commander, Chancellor, or Fool. All have been quite applicable at times. I think I could be quite content were I to cease ruling over Equestria and devote my days to simply travelling Equestria, performing whatever manner of foolery came to mind. If I am truly honest, I suspect I would enjoy such a thing far more than my current duties.” She gave a resigned shake of her head. “Alas, I was born into royalty, and must take up the burden of leadership. What pains me is not a matter of titles and honors, but one of failure. I have failed my subjects. Failed them so badly that now they no longer believe me capable of ruling over them.” 

“Com—” I caught and corrected myself, lest my words cause her further pain. “Celestia, that is not the way of it. The discontent within Pegasopolis is directed towards Sunbeam Sparkle, and only reflects upon you on her account. Once tempers have had time to cool...”

Celestia gave a single shake of her head. “Neigh, the ephors had the right of the matter. She is—was my grand vizier. A pony I chose despite her flaws, despite knowing full well the depths of her ... unsoundness.” (1)

1: While psychology was in its infancy at the time, several accounts of Sunbeam Sparkle make reference to her being mentally damaged or unsound. Most modern experts believe she suffered from some variety of antisocial personality disorder. Although making a proper diagnosis from a few biographical accounts is obviously impossible, her behavior in Shadow’s memoirs and her daughter’s is usually consistent with such a diagnosis.

Though I was pleased to hear that Celestia had seemingly chosen to dismiss Sunbeam Sparkle from her service, I could not help but wonder at why she had even entered it to begin with. “If she is so flawed, then why make her your vizier?”

“Because of an idea,” the Commander answered me simply. “A foolish one, perhaps, but one that has troubled my mind frequently of late. Ever since my own sister’s ... troubles.” A pained grimace crossed her face at the mention of Luna, but it quickly passed. “For all the trouble that the likes of Discord and Sombra have caused, ‘twas Luna’s turning which struck the deadliest blow against Equestria. Dost thou grasp why this should be?”

The answer was obvious enough once I gave it a moment’s thought. “Not only did a great new evil emerge, but Equestria lost one of its staunchest defenders in the process.”

“Just so.” The Commander offered me a slow, pained nod. “The greatest victory one can gain is not the destruction of one’s enemies, but their conversion. To take their strength and make it one’s own. It is a lesson I learned at great cost, and now hope to apply to other arenas.”

I grasped her meaning easily enough. Sunbeam Sparkle was, to all appearances, an utterly wicked and foul mare. Ruthless, ambitious, and magically powerful. I cannot imagine that her naked lust for power would go unsatisfied if the Commander had denied her access to it through legitimate means. “Was that your purpose in employing her, then? To take one who had the potential to become a great evil, and use her strength for the betterment of Equestria?”

“Aye,” she confessed. “To take a mare who seemed destined to become a villain, and forge her into something better. ‘Twas a noble thought, but I do not think I succeeded in the endeavour. Not fully, at least. I hoped to turn her into a good mare, and all I’ve succeeded in doing is making her an evil mare in the service of a good one.” She let out a pained sigh. “Every time I begin to think that she might finally have taken it upon herself to cease her wicked ways, she enacts some new depravity. I grow tired of daring to hope, only to be bitterly disappointed in the end.”

“If that is the case, then why have you waited so long to dismiss her from your service?” I asked of her. “Why continue to allow her into such a position of power and favor?”

“Because of that hope which I could not bear to release.” Celestia sighed and gave a bitter shake of her head. “Because I was so fixed upon the idea of turning a villain into a good pony that I could not bring myself to face the painful truth.” She gave a disgusted little snort. “There are times when I can barely stand the sight of her. When it takes all the self-control I possess not to cast her into some pit alongside every other abomination I’ve faced, to linger in darkness until she is utterly forgotten. She fancies herself my stalking horse, the mare who does those things which I cannot or will not bring myself to do. That she might sully her reputation to keep mine untarnished. Nothing could be further from the truth. The things she has done in my name disgust me.”

Celestia turned away, refusing to meet my eyes. “And I think what sickens me most of all is that she is one of the best viziers I have ever had. That her wickedness has proved so effective where decency has failed to find a solution. That an evil mare might accomplish more good than a decent one.”

“But the break between you and the ephorate lies entirely at her hooves!” I protested. “Were it not for her actions, this entire crisis would not have come to pass!”

“Dost thou truly think it so?” Commander Celestia gave a resigned shake of her head. “Thou thinkest too kindly of me, then. Thy loyalty has blinded thee to my faults and assigned blame to her for my errors. ‘Twas not Sunbeam Sparkle who chose to neglect Pegasopolis for more than a century because she let grief blind her to her duties.”

Celestia turned to me once more. “Is it not a common belief in Pegasopolis that when a subordinate fails, the fault lies with their superiors for choosing a pony unsuited to the task?”

To my sorrow, I could not deny the point I saw her building towards. “That is so, Commander.” Thankfully, she chose not to comment upon my error in using her former title. “It is a leader’s duty to choose tools which are fit for purpose. However—”

She cut me off with an upraised hoof. “Do not weaken thy words to salve my pride, Shadow.” She gave a slow, pained nod. “If a commander must choose the proper tool for the task at hoof, then what is to be said of my choice of Sunbeam Sparkle for my vizier? I knew her and her faults, and still chose to trust her council and employ her services. I chose to employ her in this matter as well, when I might have excluded her.” She sighed, and slumped down against the floor. “Neigh, Shadow. While I am not pleased with her service, I must bear the greater measure of responsibility in this matter.”

I found myself torn on the matter. My heart wished to deny her every word, to scream that she was blameless. And yet, my mind told me that there was truth in her words. She had chosen Sunbeam Sparkle as her agent and representative. Rather than linger on this train of thought, I opted to seek another. “My fellow ephors are far from blameless. They acted too quickly to condemn you, and your dismissal was needless. You already sought to mend what errors you had committed, and though I am loath to admit it, our society is troubled.” I felt my ears flatten against my skull as I continued. “I think in the matter of Clippings, we are so certain that the practice is ended that we refuse to give the idea proper credence. I experienced as much in speaking with my own daughter. Rather than seek truth, I began with my certainty that no Clippings were occurring and then sought the means to confirm it. That is a poor way to go about finding any truth.

“Further, there is the matter of Valiant Doo.” I gave a disgusted snort at the thought of the murderer. “His crime was foul, and yet half of Pegasopolis would name him a hero. For murder. Has the honor of Pegasopolis become so fragile that we must become little better than reivers in order to defend it?”

Celestia’s eyes closed for several seconds, and then she gave a slow, thoughtful nod. "There is much in Pegasopolis that troubles me.” She turned from me for a few moments, then gave a pained sigh. When she faced me once more, her shoulders no longer slumped with weary melancholy, and there was strength and determination in her words once more. Whatever dark mood had taken her seemed to have passed, hopefully for good. “I must regretfully decline thy offer of hospitality, Shadow. I fear my continued presence in Pegasopolis would be detrimental to any hope of resolving this matter without any further discord.” She gave me a piercing look. “What canst thou tell me of the ephorate’s plans and intentions for the future?”

Despite the circumstances, the request took me unawares. “Commander—Celestia, in the eyes of the law you are no longer my commanding officer, but a foreign leader. If I were to tell you of what the ephorate has discussed in private...”

“Thy fellow ephors might well view it as a betrayal,” she concluded for me. “I will not mince words or attempt to couch the matter in technicalities. I, in my capacity as a leader of a foreign power, am asking that thou inform me of the internal affairs of thine own government.” She let out a heavy sigh. “I regret the necessity of it, but at this time tensions could not be higher. No doubt many will say that while my removal as Commander was within the bounds of Pegasopolan law, it presages an open rebellion against my rule. It would ease my mind greatly if I could have thy word that such is not the case.”

I could scarce believe my own ears. “You would have me betray Pegasopolis?”

Celestia met my eyes, her gaze pained, but unflinching. “I would have thee do what is best for all Equestria, not merely the portion of it whose population was born with wings.” She let out a heavy sigh. “There will be much fear and uncertainty on all sides in the wake of my removal as Commander of Pegasopolis. I suspect that the ephorate fears me far more than I fear it, and would calm those fears as well.” She stepped forward, and offered me her hoof. “I offer thee my solemn word that I’ve no intention of retaliating against Pegasopolis for my dismissal. There will be no military action, and I’ll not use my power as leader of the other pony tribes to exert pressure against Pegasopolis. Though it is with a heavy heart, I accept my dismissal, and will abide by the ephorate’s decision.”

A long, painful silence reigned ‘tween us as I considered my answer. Unfortunately, there was but one answer I could give. “With all due respect, Celestia, I cannot speak to you of the private discussions of the ephorate at this time. Such a course of action would be highly improper and in violation of Pegasopolan law and custom. Despite my disagreement with my fellow ephors’ decision, I am an ephor of Pegasopolis.” I considered my words carefully, and amended. “However, it is our stated policy that the ephorate has no right to interfere in the affairs of unicorns or earth ponies, just as the other pony tribes should not involve themselves in our own internal matters. This stated policy would preclude any move to threaten your rule over the other pony tribes.”

Celestia studied my face for several long moments, then very slowly nodded. “I see. I would ask that thou inform thy fellow ephors that I’ve every intention of upholding the Equestrian Accords, despite the recent unpleasantness.” (2) She let out a heavy sigh. “I have no wish for conflict between the pony tribes. If I am to be restored as Commander of Pegasopolis, it will only be when Pegasopolis itself welcomes me, not because I’ve forced them to accept me unwillingly.”

2: The Equestria Accords were a series of treaties between the three pony tribes which effectively lead to the creation of Equestria proper. Among other things they outlined Pegasopolis’ responsibility for weather and defense, the earth ponies’ duty to provide food for the other tribes, and Unicornia’s obligation to oversee the sun and moon, as well as providing other magical services such as the enchanting of gear for the Pegasopolan military.

I offered her a worried frown. “You truly think matters so dire? You speak as though you fear the ephorate is moments away from war with the other tribes.”

“I think caution prudent in this matter,” Celestia declared. “I do not think ‘twould be wise to give the ephorate cause to feel threatened if I wish for continued peace.” She gave a slow, sad shake of her head. “I know some of my advisors would suggest that I cut off Pegasopolis’ food supply or some similar measure in order to punish your tribe for removing me.” She gave a pained, insincere smile. “And I know how Sunbeam Sparkle would answer those advisors. Though she be cruel, she is not a fool. She grasps that a poor, starving army in close proximity to undefended food and wealth is a recipe for war. Likewise, any army that fears they will soon be poor and starving.” She gave a single shake of her head. “Better that I take a century to regain my office peacefully, or never regain it at all, than to shed a single drop of blood to reclaim it by force of arms. Wilt thou convey that message to thy fellow ephors?”

“I will,” I assured her.

“Then I thank thee, Ephor Shadow Kicker of Pegasopolis.” To my surprise, she bestowed a single chaste kiss upon my forehead. (3) “I thank you for speaking with me as one mare to another, before we attended to matters of state. Hopefully, when next we meet, it will be in better circumstances.”

Though neither of us knew it at the time, that hope would go unfulfilled.

3: It bears mentioning that Equestrian social norms in regards to things like kissing have shifted considerably since Shadow’s day. At the time, a kiss of this sort would be a normal platonic gesture of affection for a trusted and close subordinate. In general, the Equestria of Shadow’s days was far more open to using kisses to convey non-romantic forms or love and affection, compared to modern times. It seems a pity that kisses have become more restricted in their meaning over time.





After parting ways with Commander—neigh, at least for the moment she was my former Commander—Celestia, I intended to make my way back to the clanhold. There was much to think upon, and I had need of my father’s counsel. First, however, I would need to retrieve my daughter. Now that Celestia had been legally stripped of the title of Commander, Gale could hardly remain in her hetairoi.

To my immense displeasure, but not surprise, Gale still remained with Midnight Sparkle. Which meant that she now was in the company of Sunbeam Sparkle as well. My displeasure at being forced to endure Archmagus Sparkle’s presence once more was significantly lessened by the fact that she was gathering her possessions and making ready to depart. Whilst she packed, Gale sat off to the side with Midnight, entertaining the filly with cloudcraft.

I cleared my throat to announce my presence. “Gale, I have need of thee once more. I am certain Archmagus Sparkle can attend to her own child’s needs.”

“I have some familiarity with the process,” the Archmagus commented dryly. “Midnight, it is time you allowed the ephor to have her daughter back.”

“But mother!” Midnight whined, “Gale promised to take me to a play and get me ice cream, and after we finished that she was going to show me how to disembowel an earth pony in three moves!”

Gale offered the young filly a playful grin as she rose. “My apologies, young Midnight, but duty calls. I am sure we shall meet again.”

“One can but hope,” the filly groused, crossing her forelegs over her chest and pouting.

Sunbeam Sparkle opted to insert herself into the conversation. “It seems unlikely, I must say. Now that I am no longer Grand Vizier of Unicornia, I suspect the ephor will take far less interest in my affairs.” She let out a haughty sniff. “Oh, the Archmagus of Canterlot is still a pony of some importance, but ‘tis only a matter of time before that honor is lost to me as well. Though Her Majesty has no formal power to dismiss me, I am certain my fellow magi will be quick to seize upon my moment of weakness.” (4) She turned to me, a faint sneer on her face. “Does my downfall please you, Ephor?”

4: The Archmagus of Canterlot was formally chosen by an assembly of all ranking magi. While this arrangement officially meant that the selection of an Archmagus was a purely internal affair, as a matter of practical politics many non-magi had a say in the matter. While it was not uncommon for magi as a whole to have rocky relations with the nobility, an Archmagus was expected to work alongside the monarchy, and thus Celestia’s open disapproval was a political kiss of death.

I considered my answer carefully, if only to ensure that I did not give her cause for juris ungula. I would not have objected to such a conflict earlier, but now that her political collapse seemed all but certain there was nothing to be gained from further antagonizing her. On the battlefield, a broken enemy should be pursued until their strength is utterly shattered, to ensure that they cannot rebuild their forces. On the political battlefield, things work somewhat differently.

Unless I chose to end her life in juris ungula, I would gain little by further pursuing any rivalry with Sunbeam Sparkle. She was already removed from power, and I doubt Celestia could be persuaded to do her any further harm without some new offense. I suspect that despite her harsh words earlier, Celestia had hoped that this reprimand might serve to push Sunbeam Sparkle along the path to redemption. If she had not learned decency in power, then perhaps she would force herself acquire it in the hopes of regaining her former position. I thought such a thing unlikely, but ‘twould seem that Celestia is far more given to hopes and dreams than I.

While I would not go out of my way to humiliate a beaten foe, that did not mean I intended to lie simply to spare her feelings. “I think ‘tis better for Unicornia and Equestria both that you are out of power, aye. To the extent that I think Equestria benefits from your removal, I am glad of it. However, I take no pleasure from your personal troubles.” I could not entirely restrain my contempt as I added. “Unlike some, I’ve found that the sight of another’s suffering rarely gives me cause for pleasure.”

The Archmagus let out a faint snort. “Ah, ‘twould seem that despite your fine words, my downfall does bring you some pleasure. So be it, then. I suppose I should at least thank you for attempting to spare my feelings in some small way.” She let out a bitter little snort. “‘Tis a small kindness, but far more than I am likely to receive from my own kind.”

Had she been another pony, or I more naive, I might have been moved to pity by her words. However, neither of those proved to be the case, and so I did not allow myself to be so transparently manipulated. “There is a saying ‘mongst the earth ponies which I think most applicable to your situation, Archmagus. ‘One reaps what one sows.’ You’ve nopony to blame but yourself for your current misfortunes.”

“I am certain it pleases you to think so.” She offered a smile that would have better suited an alligator than a pony. “In any case, your desire is granted, and I am removed from power. And all it cost you to achieve this was the removal of Her Highness as Commander of Pegasopolis. Do you think that a worthwhile exchange?”

“That was not the way of it,” I growled at her.

“Wasn’t it, though?” Her cruel, predatory smile widened. “You cannot have failed to grasp how in attacking me, you also attacked Her Majesty. Did you truly think all the discontent you and your daughter helped stir would immediately calm the very instant I was removed from power?”

I opened my mouth to deny the words, but found that I could not. Had Celestia herself not said that her choice of subordinates reflected upon her as well? In condemning her vizier, did I not implicitly condemn her judgement in choosing that vizier as well? With a troubled frown, I answered the Archmagus. “Your words are not entirely false.”

Sunbeam Sparkle’s vicious and predatory smile shifted to one that was more resembling of an appropriate equine expression. Not only that, it was tinged with something that might have been worry, had I seen it on the face of any other. “There will be consequences for what has come this day. You realize that, do you not?”

“I do not think anypony has failed to grasp it. The choosing of a new Commander for the first time in more than a century is a momentous event.” I am sure the common soldiers would soon be gossiping madly about who the new Commander would be. “Commander Celestia does not intend to dispute the Ephorate's decision.”

“I did not believe she would.” An unreadable look crossed her face. “I do find it intriguing that in spite of her deposition, you still name her as Commander. Is that merely a lifetime of habit, or a sign of something else?” She gave an uncaring shrug and a dismissive wave of her hoof. “No matter. In any case, Her Majesty’s stated intentions will not keep your fellow ephors from harboring their own suspicions and worries.”

Though I knew it was likely true, her words carried a tenor of insult that I did not care for. “No doubt many of your fellow unicorns will be busily plotting a way restore her to power as well.”

“I will not pretend to deny it.” She placed several robes into a small valise. “Such is the nature of politics. Everypony plots for power, even ones such as you who fancy themselves above such things.” She paused, and thoughtfully tapped a hoof to her lips. “In truth, the maneuvering ‘tween unicorn and pegasus is of little consequence at the moment. ‘Tis the earth ponies who will move next; their elections are but a month away.”

“What of them?” I scrutinized her, trying to gain some idea of what she intended from this conversation. “I would expect that Celestia will win against token opposition, as she has in the past.”

“Do you truly think the earth ponies blind to what passes in the clouds? That the ephorate’s decision will not affect them in any way?” She shook her head, and let out reproving hiss, as if she were scolding young Midnight. “Celestia’s reign over all three pony tribes has persisted for so long because nopony had thought to call it into question. Now that the pegasi have brought the possibility to mind, many will grant it credence. Her every action and policy is now open to question and debate, in a way it has not been since long before we were born.” A dark scowl crossed her face. “I think it likely Her Majesty will face far more opposition than anticipated in the upcoming election.”

“I am rather less convinced of its likelihood.” My wings gave an aggravated flick as I considered the matter. “Four ponies might err, but ‘tis far harder for however many earth ponies would constitute a majority to make the same mistake.” A grim smile crossed my face as I turned to more pleasant matters. “I am curious to see who shall replace you. Much will rest on their shoulders.”

“As grand vizier or archmagus?” Sunbeam Sparkle smiled once more, the expression more akin to that of a particularly polite shark than anything conveying genuine warmth. “Those are two very different questions, but both of merit.”

“I shall ask for an answer to both, then.”

She ceased packing her things for a few moments as she pondered the matter. “For grand vizier, I suspect it will be my old foe in the court, Duke Polaris. He has opposed me on nearly every issue he could since I became grand vizier and even exerted what influence he had in attempt to prevent me from becoming archmagus.” The Archmagus let out a snort that would hardly have suited the refined court of Canterlot, though a moment later she restored her composure. “Most of the nobles look to him for guidance, and in Unicornia whenever an Archmagus and the magi are in disfavor, ‘tis the nobles who are likely to enjoy the benefits.” She directed a particularly wicked smirk at me. “A shame. If you found me intolerable...”

I did vaguely recall Duke Polaris from my interactions with court and the nobility. From what little I’d seen of the stallion, he matched every negative conception I had of the Unicorn nobility. An obsession with bloodlines, and the worst sort of groundside hedonism. Still, one cannot fully judge a pony based on a first superficial impression. “Who shall replace you amongst the magi, then?”

Sunbeam Sparkle idly hummed to herself as she put some trinkets away in her bags, as if her impending loss of power bothered her not at all. “A tougher question. One can never quite determine how an archmagus conclave will go. So many factions, and all prone to rapidly shifting opinions and forming alliances, then breaking them at a moment’s notice.” No doubt Sunbeam felt perfectly at home in such an environment. “Very few ponies foresaw my own rise, until the matter had already been settled.” She gave the matter slightly more thought. “The three I think are best positioned at the moment are Terra Stratus, Lady Instance, and Vanguard Action. I would also not rule out Baronetess Ahfa. She’s a poor magus, but from House Polaris. The new Vizier will back her as much as he can.”

I considered her answers, and gave a look to my daughter. Gale gathered my meaning quickly enough, and offered a single nod. Given the current tense state of affairs, ‘twas only prudent to keep appraised of events within Unicornia. That matter resolved, I turned to the Archmagus once more. “Well, 'twould seem we shall at least be spared the dubious pleasure of each other's company in the future.”

“So ‘twould seem, for the moment,” she agreed, her smile not faltering in the slightest. “However, one can never quite predict the course of events. I certainly have no intention of lingering in political exile indefinitely. Mayhaps in a few years time, I will have regained all that I’ve lost, and more besides. It is not in my nature to accept defeat.” She gave a quick, dismissive wave of her hoof. “Ah, but I make a poor guest, speaking only about my own troubles and concerns. ‘Tis only polite to make the expected inquiries as to your health and fortunes as well. How would you rate your own standing ‘mongst your fellow ephors?”

A question that troubled me more than I would care to admit. When they began the process of deposing Celestia, Swift Blade had alluded to prior conversations on the matter. Conversations I had not been privy to. That my fellow ephors would discuss such important matters while excluding me was troubling. Regardless, there was but one answer to give. “I am an ephor, as always.”

Sunbeam Sparkle let out a faint, carefully neutral murmur. “For now, I suppose.”

I scowled at her. “Your meaning?”

The predatory smirk on her face widened. “I wonder, have you ever had the displeasure to be amongst the minority in a political struggle? Especially when the stakes were perceived to be significant by your peers?”

I misliked the implication, though I could not deny it. As a matter of policy, the Ephorate and Pegasopolils as a whole preferred consensus ‘mongst it’s leaders. No doubt my fellow ephors would attempt to sway me to their side when next we met. And if I could not be swayed... 

“I tire of this conversation,” I quickly announced, lest I pursue that troubling line of thought any further. “Gale, let us away.”

A note of triumph entered the Archmagus’s smile as she saw the weakness in my armor, but in truth I cared little for her petty victory. “One last warning for you, Ephor. I suggest you protect you and yours, for I think you will find there will be very few ponies willing to do that in the coming days if you retain your convictions.”

As I departed, I offered my own response. “You have cast all decency and conviction aside. How many ponies rally to your banner, now that you are in need?”

No doubt she would have offered some witty retort of her own, had I given her sufficient time to conjure one. Instead, I made my exit. Gale followed shortly afterwards, lingering only long enough to offer a final hug and kiss to young Midnight before her departure.

The matter of farewells attended to, Gale and I made our way back to the clanhold. ‘Twas difficult not to note the mood of the city as we walked Cloudsdale’s streets. There was an odd mixture of energy alongside a strange sort of release. ‘Tis a difficult thing to put into words; the closest metaphor I can think is likening it to what a city seems like in the eye of the storm. There was excitement at the new and unexpected direction Pegasopolis had taken, accompanied by joy at the impending departure of the unicorns, but underlying it all was a certain tension. A feeling that the crisis we’d weathered was but the first of many.

I found my father in his quarters, reclining on a large and comfortable cloud whilst being read to by one of the young apprentices. Much as the loss of his eyesight and subsequent retirement from the field of battle had pained him, I suspect that in some ways the fact that he could no longer enjoy the written word was an even sharper blow. Every soldier knows that age will eventually take them from the battlefield, should they survive long enough for such to be a concern. The loss of one’s hobbies and diversions, however, is not a thing we are so prepared to accept. I’ve many fond memories of reading a tome alongside my father in my youth, interrupting him as needed to ask questions and generally make a nuisance of myself.

I put a hoof on the young apprentice’s shoulder, and took the book from him before giving the young colt a gentle but pointed push towards the door. After searching the page for a moment, I resumed where he had left off. “Indeed, whosoever shall look at the sedition and misgovernment which befell the other pony tribes, to whom they were as near related in blood as situation, will find in them the best reason to admire the wisdom and foresight of Lyequinegus. For these other tribes, in their first rise, were equal, or, if there were any odds, they lay on the side of the unicorns and earth ponies, who, in the first allotment, were thought to have been luckier than the pegasi; yet their happiness was of but small continuance, partly the tyrannical temper of their kings and partly the ungovernableness of the people quickly bringing upon them such disorders, and so complete an overthrow of all existing institutions, as clearly to show how truly divine a blessing the pegasi had had in that wise lawgiver who gave their government its happy balance and temper. But of this I shall say more in its due place.” (5)

5: While Shadow does not mention the name of the book, this quote indicates that it comes from Palaminarch’s biography of Lyequinegus. Lyequinegus herself is a figure of some mystery, to the point that some modern historians have suggested that she is more of a legendary figure meant to represent the series of lawgivers and reformers who gradually transformed the pegasi from nomadic bands of raiders to a structured, organized, and civilized society. Given that written records from the early tribal days are fragmentary at best, the matter is unlikely to ever be resolved.

I continued on for some time, until father put one of his hooves on mine. “I thank thee, Shadow, but I think we’ve more important matters at hoof than dusty old tomes. What canst thou tell me of the removal of Celestia as Commander?”

“A great deal, as I was present for it.” The memory of what had passed there, and afterwards when I spoke with Celestia, still weighed heavily upon me. “My fellow ephors feel that she has not adequately performed her duties, and voted for her removal.”

“That much I had gathered already.” Though Father’s tone was light, he turned to me with a deeply troubled frown. “But I note that you speak of your fellow ephors doing this thing. Dost thou seek to distance thyself from their decision already?”

“I do not approve of it.” I shook my head, then cursed myself for the motion. ‘Twas not as if Father could see my body language. It has been more than a year since the light left his eyes, and still there are times when I forget myself in front of him. Especially in times such as then, when I was troubled. “The matter was decided at four votes to one.”

“I am sure former Commander Celestia appreciates your loyalty, mother,” Gale assured me.

“No doubt.” Father brought a hoof up to his chin thoughtfully. “However, when my vision faded and I could no longer properly execute the duties of my station, I retired. That is the way of things: nopony can hold command indefinitely, and those who cannot properly perform their duties should be removed from power.”

Father’s words cut me to the quick. “She is not an unworthy Commander, Father.” I was surprised by how much heat my own voice carried, the passion of my words. “Aye, she has erred in her leadership of Pegasopolis, but nopony can truly achieve perfection. She has seen her errors and taken all reasonable steps to correct them, but the other ephors would not hear her. If a single mistake were to be the undoing of every single officer, then nopony would ever ascend to the rank of ephor.”

“Well reasoned,” Father conceded, nodding to me. “E’en so, I wonder if a temporary removal from power might not be to her benefit. Deprive her of the office for a few years, and when she regains it she will do so with a much greater appreciation for our ways, and the wisdom to properly honor them in her role as Commander.”

That thought did calm my fears, somewhat. Though I still disliked the idea of removing Celestia from power at all, a temporary removal as a sign of the ephorate’s disapproval troubled me far less than the idea of a permanent dismissal. “Thou thinkest it likely, then, that she will be restored to power after a time? The others did not seem as though they intended their removal of her to be a temporary measure.”

“There is too much that binds the three pony tribes together for her removal to persist indefinitely,” Father argued. “And if the current ephorate will not restore her, another will. ‘Tis one of the advantages of immortality—she can be restored by our grandchildren easily enough.”

“Indeed.” My eyes travelled to Gale, who seemed largely content to remain respectfully silent whilst her elders spoke. I had high hopes for my daughter; it would greatly please me if I could emulate my father in passing my title to my daughter when I reached the age of retirement. In truth, Gale had not yet displayed the qualities of leadership I’d hoped for. That is not to say she had failed me in any regard; she was in every sense a superlative daughter, but she seemed to lack the natural spark of true leadership. I think she would make a much better proedos than a leader in her own right. (6)

6: Proedos was a Pegasopolan title generally used to denote a closely trusted advisor and second-in-command, similar to the executive officer of a Guard unit or the grand vizier of Unicornia. If Shadow were to have been appointed to the office Celestia offered her, this almost certainly would have been her title (unless the ephors chose to bring back the old title of Hypatos instead, which seems unlikely given that it carried a connotation of placing Shadow above the other ephors, while proedas merely states that she is Celestia’s close subordinate). Shadow’s own thoughts here seem to be an accurate prediction, given that Gale rarely held battlefield commands and eventually served as the second Grand Vizier of Equestria.

Future matters were hardly a concern for the moment, though. We had no shortage of problems in the present to concern ourselves with. “To think that I might not even live to see her restored to her proper place sits poorly with me. As does the thought of continuing to participate in the governance of Pegasopolis when I disagree with my fellow ephors on such an important matter.”

“And what wouldst thou do regarding the matter?” Father questioned me. “Regardless of thy opinion, the ephorate has voted and she has been removed. Wilt thou end all thy future speeches much like Catrot the Elder did? Will thy every sentence be accompanied by an unending refrain of ‘and I also believe that Celestia must be restored?’”

I confess, the thought had a certain appeal to it. I suspect it would go poorly with my fellow ephors, though. I do wonder how the old ephorate endured Catrot’s unending demands to reclaim Manehatten from griffon occupation. I do wonder if perhaps Commander Luna’s decision to finally do so was driven not by a desire to free the city’s earth ponies, but merely to finally silence Catrot. ‘Twas a cruel irony indeed that Catrot himself did not live to see the task finished. Much as I would likely not live to see Celestia restored.

“What other options have I, Father?” The words came out with weary resignation. “I cannot accept the decision my fellow ephors have made. To remain silent would be to accept it by my submission. I must protest the wrongs that my eyes perceive.”

“Then thou wilt quickly anger and offend all thy fellow ephors,” he cautioned me. “A choice has been made, and they would not have made it unless they were committed to it. The longer you protest that decision, the more your bonds of friendship and service will weaken. Wouldst thou be diminished to naught but an empty seat on the council, friendless and ignored?” His voice softened, and he put a hoof on my shoulder. “Wouldst thou be sundered from Rightly? Thou must be aware of how he shall react to thy words.”

“I do not wish such a thing,” I confessed. “I am torn ‘tween my duties to Celestia and to Pegasopolis.”

Father considered the matter for a moment, then gave a grave nod. “Divided loyalties are one of the greatest problems that can afflict a pony. Have a care that thou dost not find thyself dithering as to which loyalty is the greater. For my part, I would say that Commanders come and go, but Pegasopolis endures.”

To hear such words from my own father stung. To think that even he supported Celestia’s removal. “Thou wouldst counsel that I resign myself to this wrong?”

“Such is my advice, daughter.” He let out a heavy sigh, and sank against the clouds he rested upon. “I have grown old, and suffered many ills in my time. What might I have done, had I devoted my life to raging against these injustices? I think that would be a waste of a life. Sometimes, the wisest course is to accept that which we cannot change, and focus our attentions upon that which yet remains within our power to alter.”

Prudence dictated that I accept Father’s words. Sadly, I could not accept them. For all that I knew he counseled the more intelligent course of action, I could not bring myself to believe it right. “I am sorry, Father, but I cannot. I cannot bring myself to accept this wrong. I must protest it, e’en if it means that I must speak words that would turn my brother and sister ephors ‘gainst me. E’en if it means I must stand alone ‘gainst all Pegasopolis.” I took a deep breath and stiffened my resolve. “Father, thou didst teach me from an early age that I should stand firm for my principles. That what I believe to be right should not bend and sway simply because my morals were inconvenient at the moment. ‘Tis an easy thing to hold to one’s beliefs when those are popular and untested. ‘Tis quite another keep thy principles uncompromised when temptation rises and all stand opposed, when ‘twould be prudent to take another course of action.”

Father regarded me for a long time, then waved a hoof for me to approach. I did, and helped guide his hoof to my shoulder, and then his lips to my forehead. “I am proud of thee. Truly, Shadow, thou hast grown to be a fine mare.”

“If that is so, it is only because I had fine fathers to guide my steps.” I allowed myself a moment of weakness, and embraced him. He wasted no time in returning the gesture. After a moment’s hesitation, Gale embraced the both of us as well.

We remained so for quite some time, overcome by the strength of our feelings. At last, father regained his composure and spoke once more, though his words were still thick with emotion. “Shadow, while I would still counsel another course, I ask that thou continue to do what thou thinkest to be right, e’en if it means we disagree. And know that regardless of thy course, thou shalt as ever enjoy my unflinching support in the matter. If any in the clan or the Gerousia question the rightness of thy actions, then they shall find that they must answer to me.”

I pressed my cheek against Father’s for some time, simply enjoying the closeness of him. E’en if his body had grown older and weaker than it once was, I still felt like a young filly in his grasp. To me, he would always be that symbol of strength and protection which all good fathers represent. Just as I hope that I shall always be a proper mother to Gale, and any other children and grandchildren I might have, unto the very end of my days.





For the first time since joining their number, I dreaded the thought of meeting with my fellow ephors. Always before, I had eagerly awaited the chance to speak with them about matters great and small. Rightly above all others, naturally, but each of the others had their charms as well. Whether it be the brash impulsive energy of Bright Charger or the gruff, dogged simplicity of Steel Striker, all of the other ephors had proven to be pleasant company. That such a thing had changed now disconcerted me.

Bright Charger was due to host our latest meeting, and so I made my way to the Charger clanhold shortly before the appointed hour. Their bastion was rather unique by the standards of Pegasopolis: first and foremost, it is notable for being the largest of all the clanholds in Cloudsdale. While the Chargers were one of the greatest clans of Cloudsdale, to judge by their compound one would think that they outnumbered the Doos and Kickers combined, when in truth they were merely of comparable size.

There were many reasons for the size of the Charger clanhold. As implied by their name, the traditional tactics of the clan placed heavy emphasis on the lance and the flying charge. ‘Twas a highly effective form of fighting when properly executed, but one that required far more space to practice than weapons like the wing-blade and the hammer-hoof. Especially when it came to practicing maneuvers such as coordinated mass charges. A training yard where dozens of ponies refine the tactics of a full-speed charge naturally must include sufficient space for them to reach charging speed before their attack.

However, not all of the clanhold’s size was purely practical. The Chargers also had a reputation for two traits that seemed to inevitably drive them to expand their clanhold. First was a tendency towards impulsiveness—more than one Charger has added to the compound on little more than a whim. Secondly, the Chargers have long been known for a certain tendency towards pageantry. That is not to say that they are strutting peacocks like one finds ‘pon the ground in Canterlot or the wealthier areas of Manehatten, but I suspect that there is a similar driving principle. 

The desire to display the greatness of their clan through the grandeur of their home and possessions was one I could somewhat comprehend. Certainly none could deny that the state of a clanhold reflected ‘pon the nature of the clan itself. Thankfully, the austerity forced ‘pon all pegasi by virtue of living ‘mongst the clouds prevented the ostentatious displays of the Chargers from growing too excessive. Indeed, the compound’s rising spires and rainbow fountains gave the entire area a level of magnificence rarely seen in pegasi homes. And yet, I could not help but think that the overall effect was as much off-putting as impressive. Much like in Canterlot, upon reaching a certain level of exorbitance the Chargers’ extravagance began to lose its impact. One fountain is grand—but when they exist by the dozen, they quickly become tedious.

Bright Charger’s clan was out in force today. Dozens of pegasi in the distinctive polished mirror-sheen steel of her clan milled about, mostly occupied with the usual military exercises. However, this time they moved not with the casual ease of long practice, but with a sense of urgency and purpose. ‘Twas not at all unusual to see a clan’s ponies training at arms, but this time I could not help but wonder if there were something more to the matter. Mayhaps Bright Charger simply hoped to impress her fellow ephors with a martial display, but I could not help but think along darker pathways. Her clanponies did not move as if they sought to make a fine display; rather, it seemed as if they were preparing for war.

A troubling thought indeed.

Though I arrived before the appointed meeting time, I was the not the first to do so. Rightly stood outside the clanhold’s central building, idly watching the Chargers as they went through their preparations. Upon noting my approach he gave a respectful nod, though I noted the way his ears lay flat against his skull, and there was an unusual note of hesitation in his voice. “Shadow. ‘Tis good to see thee ‘pon this day.” He hesitated for a moment, then added. “I trust that thou art well?”

“Tolerable enough,” I answered him coolly, but politely. ‘Twas difficult to summon my normal joy at seeing him when my mind lingered on all that divided us. ‘Twas he who had cast the deciding vote to remove Celestia from power, and of all the ephors who had seemingly chosen to exclude me from the discussion regarding her removal, his betrayal cut deepest. I had not thought myself so unimportant to him that he would cast me aside at a moment’s notice in the name of political convenience. “How does this day find you?” My tone made it plain that my choice of pronoun was deliberate.

Had Rightly’s ears gone any flatter, they might well have receded into his skull. ‘Twas somewhat pleasing to see that he looked properly chastened for his actions. When he spoke, there was a strained casualness to his tone, as if he were struggling to keep up the appearance that nothing was amiss. “Well enough, Shadow. How fares thy honored father? I've not had time to speak to any of the geronts since our gathering.”

“My father is quite well, as is my daughter. The remainder of my clan also endures with no troubles beyond the usual.” I was in no mood to exchange small talk and idle pleasantries with Rightly. In truth, now that we stood face-to-face, I was quite wroth with him. “You regret that you’ve not spoken to my father recently, then? 'Twould seem that you have not had the opportunity to speak to many who might be deserving of your words, of late.”

Rightly offered me a small, dour nod. “Much to my discredit.” He turned, and his gaze lingered long on the Chargers as they practiced their craft. When he finally answered me, there was a gentle and almost apologetic tone to his voice. “The haste with which recent events have proceeded has caught me ill-prepared to speak to even those closest to me. This is something I hope shall change swiftly, now that the storm has passed.”

“One can but hope.” Though his words had the tenor of an apology, it was not yet enough to dispel my wrath. It would be some time before I could bring myself to forgive him fully for the slight I had suffered. “I am pleased to see that I am at least invited to this meeting of the ephorate. I had begun to wonder if Celestia was the only one you met in secret to depose.”

Rightly gave a barely perceptible shake of his head, one most ponies who do not know him as well as I might not have seen. “Such a thing could never happen, Shadow. ‘Twas not my intention to see thee absent from the last council, and Steel also stood in opposition.”

That news was intriguing, and somewhat cooled my fury at last. “Truly?”

“Aye.” He glanced ‘cross the training yard, to where Bright Charger herself stood, directing some of her clanponies through their combat drills. When he spoke, there was a slightly shamed air to his words. “In truth, the hours prior to our meeting with Queen Celestia were largely spent arguing on the matter of whether or not we should bring thee to the table. The matter went undecided, despite devoting all the time of our meeting to it.”

“Ah, so that was the way of it.” I was glad to hear that I’d not been intentionally cast aside by Rightly. Though the fact that two of my fellow ephors mistrusted me stung, the thought of Rightly treating me so would have been far more painful. “I take it 'twas feared that I would break my fellow ephors’ confidence and speak to Celestia of the matter the instant our meeting was adjourned?” If I am honest, I would have been tempted to consider such a course.

Rightly remained silent for some time, a carefully neutral look ‘pon his face. No doubt I’d placed him in as difficult a position as I myself had faced yesterday when Celestia made her request. Worse, even, if he shared those same doubts, but sought to repress them. When he finally answered, the words came out with the sort of slow deliberation I usually associated with Steel Striker. “I fail to see the difference such actions would make, in truth.”

So he confesses his suspicion that I might have forewarned Celestia, given the opportunity. I think I might well have done so, if only in the hopes that warning her of the depth of the ephorate’s discontent might allow her to better address their concerns. However, she had already gone to considerable effort to do so, only to see her offerings dismissed out of hoof and even turned ‘gainst her. I gave a slow, reluctant nod. “Aye, it would not change the outcome. 'Twould seem that the matter was already decided, regardless of anything I or Celestia might have done.”

“Thou speakest as though we have declared damnatio memoriae upon her, or made the choice on a whim,” he grumbled discontentedly. “Celestia's removal may be temporary, at least to her measure of time, but ‘twas neither lightly done nor undeserved.”

“More’s the pity that I cannot know such things, seeing as you felt the need to exclude me from the discussion.” My words might have been unfair, but the wound caused by my exclusion was yet a fresh one. I cannot be condemned for giving words to my pain when it was yet so fresh. “What weight is there to a decision which is made in secret, while all dissenting voices are silenced? I had not thought my opinion so unwanted by thee, e'en if it differs.”

Rightly went silent for a time once again, but when he finally broke that silence his voice was quiet, but carried an emphatic tone. “Shadow, thy exclusion was not a thing I desired! I argued ‘gainst it with such vigor that we spent two hours talking of little else! I regret only the fact that in my zeal to debate the point, I effectively conceded the matter by exhausting all the time we could spare.” He stepped forward, coming within an intimate distance of me. “Thy counsel holds great value to me, e'en when it diverges from my own opinions. Mayhap e’en moreso in such times; ‘tis of great value to have a pony willing to question my choices.”

“I am glad to hear it.” The words were scarcely louder than a whisper as they left my lips. “Though we disagree on this matter, and are likely to do so for all the rest of our days, I would not have such a disagreement sunder the bond ‘tween us.”

“Nor would I.” Rightly once more spared a quick glance for his sister-in-law. “The choice to exclude thee yet smoulders. Steel's own displeasure is present as well, if silent.” A faint smile crossed his face as he amended, “Well, moreso than is usual for him.”

“That must be a great silence indeed, if it is noticeable from him.” The light mood engendered by Rightly’s words could not last long, however. Especially not when Bright Charger crossed my field of vision as she demonstrated a charging technique for the benefit of her clan. “Still, two amongst our fellows argued for my exclusion. ‘Tis almost tempting to make an issue of it.”

“While I understand thy displeasure with it, I must ask that thou restrain thy choler, dear Shadow.” His tone was gentle and calming, yet held a slight hint of unyielding authority underneath. “I would prefer to resolve such matters swiftly, quietly, and bloodlessly. In a time when the Commander's seat grows cold, public disunity would be cancerous to Pegasopolis, and present an open target to the lingering machinations of others.”

That point could hardly be argued. The rift ‘mongst the ephorate was troublesome enough when it consisted merely of a difference of opinion. Already we had suffered one murder over political matters; any further displays of violence would only encourage those who sought to resolve disagreements in blood rather than debate. Even if my clash with the others took place while carefully constrained by the rules of juris ungula, it would be seen as an endorsement of political violence, and could quickly escalate matters beyond all control.  “Aye, ‘twould not be wise. Regardless seeking juris with Swift Blade would hardly be a fair contest. He has many virtues, but he is no warrior. And despite my offense, I would prefer not to face Bright Charger in the dueling ring. I am not too proud to admit that ‘tween the two of us, she is the better at single combat.”

“I would prefer to avoid such confrontations at all, dear Shadow.” A troubled look crossed Rightly’s face as he added, “Especially ‘tween thee and Bright. Of all the ponies in the ephorate, ‘twould pain me most if I were forced to bury one of thee.”

“Then I shall do all that I can to ensure that this does not come to pass. I would not wish to cause thee pain, whether in my victory or my defeat.” After a moment’s consideration I stepped closer to him. “I am glad there is no discord 'tween us, at least.”

Rightly moved nearer as well, so that there was but half a pace ‘tween us. His new position also showed his back to Bright whilst she attended her charges. “As am I. Now that I view matters with hindsight’s benefit, I believe that I should have sent for thee, rather than argue the matter with the others like a belligerent colt. Thy presence at the meeting, e’en if half our number objected, would have resolved the matter. Yet I felt it more important to sway the others to my own position than to seek a proper resolution to the matter. In that I erred, and did thee a wrong.”

“Thy error is regrettable.” I offered him a gentle smile to take the condemnation out of my words. “Yet also forgivable. I too have sometimes found myself so diverted. ‘Tis easy to become so concerned with being seen to be correct that one neglects to actually take the proper course of action.”

“I am grateful for thy grant of absolution, dear Shadow.” The smile he gave me in return was small, but seemed all the more genuine for it. “Thy presence has ever been a gift to me, o'er the past year.”

“As has thine own, to me.” My tongue darted ‘cross my lips, a sign of my own nerves. ‘Twas silly for a mare of my age and maturity to act so nervously before a stallion, yet I could not entirely restrain myself. ‘Twould seem that all the old poets, bards, and philosophers were quite correct: love could make a fool out of even the wisest ponies.

Rightly closed his eyes and slowly took a breath, then met my gaze with his own as he extended a hoof to me. “Let us move forward together, then.”

I had some difficulty finding my next words. I had long anticipated the day when we could finally bring ourselves to speak of the growing feelings ‘tween us. Now that the words were actually being said...

Enough. I was no blushing maiden to be undone by a few words from a stallion, however fine he might be. I took his hoof in my own. “When matters are more settled we must discuss the course we shall chart. Would that we could speak of such things now, but...”

“We’ve too many other duties that must occupy our minds for the moment.” Rightly held my hoof for a few moments longer, before reluctantly releasing it. “I look forward to our talks of the future, but before we tend to that we must address the problems of the present. Let us put aside personal matters and convene as ephors, and equals 'mong ourselves. Pegasopolis looks to us for leadership, especially now that it has no Commander.”

Would that such were not the case. More’s the pity that Rightly and I could not find the chance to speak of our mutual affection in less turbulent times. Or mayhaps ‘twas a blessing in disguise; ‘ere these troubles began, we were both content to suffer in noble silence whilst Rightly mourned his wife’s passing. The threat that we might be sundered by political turmoil had finally driven us to speak openly of such things. Regardless, now was not the time for such thoughts. “Indeed. We shall attend our duties for the moment, and set aside those other matters for better times.”

For a time afterwards, we contented ourselves with watching the Chargers at their craft. As befits their name, the Chargers based much of their tactical doctrine around the lance charge. However, it would be a mistake to think that the Chargers simply blindly attacked and lacked any tactical diversity. While the lance was the core of their strength, knowing when and how to apply that was just as important. The Charger tactical doctrine was to find the enemy’s weakest point, and strike with overwhelming force. To shatter formations, kill leaders, and reduce armies to little more than disorganized mobs.

A bold and dangerous way of war, but its effectiveness could not be disputed. However, aside from my own clan’s ways, I am fonder of the methods used by Rightly. His clan and my own are much in accord, when it comes to seeking open battle: neither of us will commit to a full clash until we’ve all but assured our victory. However, where my clan preferred subterfuge and indirect strikes to sap the enemy’s strength, Rightly’s skill lay in the realm of politics, planning, and preparation of the battlefield. To maximize his own advantages, while removing those of the enemy and inflicting new ills upon them. While the methods differed, the end result was much the same.

Eventually, Bright Charger noticed that our conversation had drawn to a close. She removed her helm and set aside her lance before approaching us, an easy smile on her face. “I trust my clan has properly shown the mettle?” Rightly and I both assured her that they had. “The appointed hour nears. I expect our fellow ephors shall be joining us shortly.” 

Rightly gave a short nod. “Very good, we’ve much to discuss and little time to discuss it. With every passing hour in which leadership is uncertain, our citizens grow more apprehensive. I hope that—” Whatever Rightly was about to say next was swallowed by the sound of metal on metal as two of Bright’s clanmates slammed into each other far closer above our heads than I cared for. Rightly spared them an annoyed glower. “I didst not expect a rain of mail links when thou didst offer to host our meeting, Bright. A curious tactic.”

“I thought it prudent to run more vigorous exercises than normal, in light of recent events,” she explained.

The implications of that statement sat poorly with me. “You speak as if war is coming, even though Celestia has already given her pledge of peace.”

“I pray that her pledge is genuine,” Bright answered me easily. “But she’s given us little reason to trust her word. 'Tis prudent to see to the readiness of our defenses.”

Rightly gave a grim nod at her words. “Celestia's departure is a promising gesture, though Sunbeam Sparkle adorning a rope would be a more telling indication that she wishes for peace, and there will be no further errors in the Queen's judgement. I hope the necessity for such drills is short-lived.”

“As do we all,” Bright frowned at two of the younger ponies, barely out of their foalhood, training with lances that seemed almost comically oversized. “Even if we cannot trust their word, the fact remains that war is in none of our interests. ‘Twould be as harmful to the earth ponies and unicorns as ‘twould be to us. More, quite likely.”

“All governments look to their own interests first and foremost,” Rightly declared. “Such is true even here, and war so seldom is in anypony’s best interests.”

I saw an opportunity to offer an olive branch to my fellow ephor. While my exclusion from the council still wounded my pride, nothing good could come of nursing a grudge on the matter.“Whatever our other disagreements, I trust the entire ephorate is in accord in its desire for peace.”

“Naturally.” Bright Charger turned to me, and after a moment’s hesitation spoke. “Your exclusion from our discussion on Celestia’s dismissal was unfair, but at the time it seemed a political necessity. I apologize for any offense given, and hope that the incident will not unduly poison our friendship.”

I was unsure how best to respond, if only because I was torn between my desire to settle the matter and my knowledge that more conflicts were all but inevitable regardless. After some time, I settled ‘pon my response. “I accept your apology in the spirit it is offered, and hope that any future conflicts ‘tween us can also be settled easily and amicably.”

“As do we all,” Bright agreed.

Rightly offered the two of us an approving nod. “Very good, then. Returning to the matter at hoof, I think we can all agree that readiness for conflict does not reflect desire on our part, but is only prudent in these tense times. If nothing else, ‘tis quite possible the griffons or some other power might believe that the current political instability has rendered Equestria vulnerable to attack.”

Bright made a vague noise to signal her agreement, though her attention seemed focused at the entrance to the compound. “The others approach. ‘Twould seem we are to begin soon.”

“Ah. Good.” Rightly ran a hoof through his mane, removing a single steel link which must have found its way there from the earlier clash. “Were I to linger here any longer, I might don my helmet. I find myself unprepared for such weather.”

“I think ‘twould be simpler for us to meet indoors,” Bright Charger offered, directing a perturbed look at the broken link of mail. “Though first, ‘twould seem I must speak with the trainers. Cuts and bruises heal, but repairing armor is a far larger task.” Once she’d spoken with the ponies supervising the training yard, she made her way to her clanhold’s central complex, while I and the other ephors followed in her wake.

As we walked, I found my course kept me near Rightly’s side. I was gladdened by the regard he had shown me, and yet as we walked a most curious and troubling thought occurred. While I knew it could not possibly be so, I found it difficult for me to fully remove the idea from my mind. The very idea that Rightly might have played ‘pon my affections to bind me more tightly to the ephorate just as my loyalties began to waver was absurd.

And yet, I could not entirely remove the treacherous thought from my head. Fie upon politics, for making me think such things.

Bright Charger had set aside one of the finer rooms in her compound for our use. Though most unwinged ponies would simply see another room filled with clouds, we all appreciated the additional comfort provided by resting couches spun by the best cloudcrafters. (7) She had also arranged for refreshments in the form of small steel bowls of fruits set alongside each of the couches. ‘Twas a small measure of hospitality, but a much appreciated one.

7: Most groundpounders think all clouds are the same, and even a lot of weather ponies don’t really know much about clouds beyond the basic stuff that’s actually relevant to weather work. Sure, just about any pegasus can do basic cloudshaping, but there’s a huge difference between that and what a properly trained cloudshaper can do. For starters, high-level clouds like cirrus are great for making hard surfaces to imitate land-based furniture and architecture, while stratus and low-level cumulus clouds are softer and fluffier, making for great cushions and beds.

The five of us took our seats in a rough circle, myself between Rightly and Steel, whilst Bright Charger sat at Rightly’s left, and Swift Blade ‘tween her and Steel. As befitted her place as our host, Bright Charger called the meeting to order. “My fellow ephors, I must thank you all for honoring my home with your presence.”

“As we honor you for your hospitality,” the four of us responded, as tradition dictated.

Bright nodded to each of us in turn before she continued. “I think it best if we dispense with the usual ceremony and pleasantries, in light of the situation. We have several matters of grave import to discuss, and I am disinclined to delay such while we all make polite inquiries as to the health and wellbeing of each other and our respective clans.” In truth, Bright Charger had never shown a great deal of patience for such idle chatter even in more settled times. Like many of her clan, she preferred decisive action to extended discussion.

When nopony objected to her suggestion, she continued.  “I propose that our first order of business be the selection of a new Commander, given that the office is currently unoccupied. I suggest that we name Rightly Doo to the post.”

“I object,” I spoke the words quickly, before the others could voice their agreement with the choice. ‘Twould have been all but impossible to bring the matter to discussion if I allowed the other ephors time enough to voice their approval. Once the votes were cast my dissent would be little more than a minor annoyance, but by striking early I could at least bring the matter to discussion.

Swift Blade was first to address me. “By all means, elaborate on the matter. What is the nature of your objection? I take it you have another candidate in mind?” Though he did not speak the words, ‘twas clear he expected me to suggest restoring Celestia.

I had no intention of doing such a thing. While I certainly wished to see Celestia returned to her proper place, I was well aware that my fellow ephors would not hear of it. I saw little point in destroying what credit I held ‘mongst the ephorate in pursuit of a lost cause. Better to seek and win a smaller but no less meaningful victory. “Celestia’s removal is but a day old. We’ve not had time to make a proper review of all potential candidates.”

Though ‘twas but a delaying tactic, it could prove a useful one. In a few weeks, once passions had cooled and the others had more time to consider the wider implications of their actions, I might have a better environment to plead Celestia’s case. Once we went about selecting our new leader, that pony would almost certainly hold the post until their retirement to the gerousia. Such a thing would mean Celestia would have no hope of regaining her post for years.

I was surprised when Steel Striker spoke next, his voice a low rumble like a restive thunderhead. “Appointing Rightly would also leave a seat in the ephorate unoccupied. Need to decide who would fill it.”

Bright Charger gave a faint scoff even she offered a conceding wave of her hoof. “Reasonable enough points, but how long do you propose we leave Pegasopolis without its Commander? If it comes to that, we can endure an absence in the ephorate far more easily. There will still be four of us to attend to matters.”

“Managed well enough for the last century,” Steel grunted.

“Nevertheless, an appointment of such scale is not one to be made in haste,” I countered. “Better that we do without a Commander for a short time to ensure that we’ve chosen the best pony for the job.”

“You’ve some objection to Rightly, then?” Swift asked.

Had I not spoken to Rightly before the meeting began, that question might have unnerved me. As it was, I still selected an apple from the bowl at my hooves and chewed thoughtfully ‘pon it, so that I might have a few seconds to consider my answer. “I think Rightly would make an excellent Commander, but I’ve not yet had occasion to know the virtues of every single pony in all Pegasopolis. E’en if Rightly is ultimately selected, ‘tis proper to give other candidates due consideration.”

“A compromise, then,” Rightly proposed, idly picking out a few grapes from his own bowl. “Shadow and Bright’s points are both reasonable, so I would suggest we name one of our number as Acting Commander, until such time as we can see to selecting the best-qualified pony to properly fill the office. Is that acceptable to all?”

Bright Charger, Swift Blade, and Steel Striker all nodded. After a moment’s hesitation, I reluctantly did so as well. Though ‘twas all but certain that the Acting Commander would simply be confirmed when the time came, arguing the matter further would only serve to make me seem unreasonable. Better to accept a partial victory now than to squander what little I had gained. “Agreed. ‘Twould seem we are in accord on the matter.”

The others nodded once more. The matter settled, Bright Charger made the obvious move. “Unless there are any further objections, I propose that we elevate Rightly Doo to the post of Acting Commander of Pegasopolis.”

“I second the motion,” Swift Blade announced.

I forced myself to hold my tongue. I’d already spoken as well of his quality as I could, but ‘twas beyond me to actually cast my vote in his favor. However, active opposition to his candidacy would do nothing but set me ‘gainst all my fellow ephors once more, and possibly wound his pride. ‘Twould be a difficult thing for us to speak of plans for our future when all the wagging tongues in Pegasopolis spoke of how I was his chief opponent in the ephorate. In the end, I chose the middle course. “I abstain from voting in this matter.”

All eyes turned to Steel Striker, as Rightly was obviously barred from voting in the matter of his own appointment. Once more, the taciturn stallion surprised us all. “I would suggest another candidate.” Rightly and Swift both met his statement with polite curiosity, though Bright Charger gave an aggravated flick of her tail, seeming quite displeased by the emergence of yet another complication. Her discontent only increased when Steel named his candidate. “Shadow Kicker.”

I could scarce believe my own ears. He would name me, the only pony opposed to Celestia’s removal, as her replacement? I had certainly not expected such a move.

For once, Bright Charger and I were in accord. “Have you taken leave of your senses, Steel? Why would you even suggest such a thing? Is this some manner of jest?”

“Peace, Bright,” Rightly gently chided his sister-in-law, before returning his attention to Steel Striker once more. “By all means, explain your reasoning.”

Such was the importance of this matter that Steel actually spoke several proper sentences to make his case. “The new Commander will have to work with Celestia. Need to negotiate for food and magical gear; she still has the other two tribes. Best if the pony doing that can get along with her. Trusted. Respected. Going to be hard for any of the ponies who voted her out to do that.”

Swift Blade nibbled on a date, a thoughtful frown on his face. “Thy argument is more compelling than I’d expected, Steel. In addition, ‘tis no secret that there is a great deal of tension and uncertainty regarding relations ‘tween the three tribes at this time. Selecting Shadow would send a clear signal to Celestia that we wish for continued good relations, not pointless conflict.”

“Well of course relations would be better when she takes all her marching orders from Celestia,” Bright Charger growled. “What is gained by removing Celestia if we simply allow a proxy to rule in her stead? And that is not to mention that she is the youngest of us; ‘tis most unusual to elevate the most junior member of the ephorate.”

“Unusual, but far from unprecedented. There have been many younger ponies who’ve held the post of Commander in the past.” Rightly turned and favored me with a fond smile. “Shadow is no fresh-faced filly, regardless. As regards thy other concerns, Shadow is better than that. Though she opposed Celestia’s removal, I believe that if she were named as the new Commander she would faithfully discharge the duties of her office.”

Flattering as it was to hear such words from Rightly, the very idea that I might be named as Celestia’s replacement stirred unsettling feelings in my heart. For a moment, I was sorely tempted to accept the offer. As Commander, I could do much to help pave the way for Celestia’s eventual restoration, if all went well. That is not to mention that it would calm the current tensions. And ‘twould be a lie to say that I was not somewhat tempted by the thought of holding high office.

However, to actually take the post from Celestia’s hooves... for all that I could see the benefits of such a course, I could not escape the idea that such an act would constitute a betrayal of the trust she had put in me. I would go from her faithful servant to her equal, the leader of another sovereign nation. And as Rightly said, once I became Commander, I would be constricted by bonds of duty. There would be times when the interests of Pegasopolis came into conflict with those of Unicornia and the earth ponies, and such would inevitably create conflict between myself and Celestia as well.

I held up a hoof to forestall any further conversation on the matter. “Though I am honored that some of my fellow ephors feel me worthy of taking on the post of Commander, even on a temporary basis, I feel that I must respectfully decline any such offers, and clarify that I have no intention of serving as Acting Commander of Pegasopolis.”

Rightly and Steel Striker both frowned at my declaration, but voiced no objection. Bright Charger, unsurprisingly, seemed pleased by my withdrawal. I do hope that the rising conflict between us over political matters did not continue; I had no wish to make an enemy of her. Yet despite the earlier assurances and her offer of hospitality, I had begun to fear that our differences were growing in severity. I can only hope that once the matter of command is set aside, matters will normalize ‘tween us.

“So, ‘twould seem that Rightly is our Acting Commander then,” Swift Blade concluded. He consumed a few olives, a slight frown on his face as he chewed. 

Rightly gave a single grave nod. “I shall do my utmost to serve with distinction, and restore honor to the post of Commander.”

“Of that there is no doubt.” Swift tapped a hoof against his chin. “And yet I am still troubled. Take no offense, Commander, I do not question your ability in the slightest. However, I do wonder if there is anypony who can contend with the will of Celestia. She is an immortal being of immense power and experience, while you are but an ordinary mortal.” After a brief silence, Swift dismissed the thought with a shrug. “I suppose that must be the way of it, though. There was only one pony who could ever stand as Celestia’s true equal, and she lies sealed in the moon.”

“More’s the pity that Commander Luna fell to madness,” Bright Charger opined. “My grand-uncle Dawnburst told me of some of the tales his grandfather told him when he was but a colt. Those tales certainly made her seem far better a leader than her sister.”

“Madness.” Swift glanced upwards, the faintest hint of a smile on his face. “Yes, that is what the histories say. But then, I imagine that had Luna triumphed, we would have tales of how Celestia was a power-mad tyrant who sought to destroy the ancient rights of the pony tribes. ‘Tis the victors who write the histories.”

Rightly pointedly cleared his throat to put an end to the tangential conversation. “Now that we’ve chosen an Acting Commander, what other matters lie before the ephorate to resolve?”

Bright Charger turned from Swift Blade, and offered Rightly a smile. “First, I think I should congratulate thee upon thy elevation, brother. While there are a number of administrative matters to attend to, I think there is one other matter of particular import to discuss. The earth ponies shall be electing a new chancellor of their own soon.”

“So?” Steel offered with his usual brevity.

Bright shot a faintly annoyed look at the laconic stallion. “I should think the relevance obvious. Celestia’s opponent—Apple Tree, I believe the name was—has begun to gain considerable momentum. I think ‘twould be in the interests of Pegasopolis to aid her in whatever way we can.”

“Neigh.” I did not even realize I’d spoken the words until after they left my lips. ‘Twas bad enough that Celestia had lost her position in Pegasopolis. If the earth ponies removed her too, ‘twould be all but impossible for her to ever recover. Much of my hopes for her restoration rested ‘pon the idea that Pegasopolis would be at odds with the other tribes for as long as Celestia ruled them. If she were removed by the earth ponies, those hopes would be naught but ashes and dust in the wind.

Such reasoning would hardly prove compelling to my fellow ephors, however. Thankfully, I had other means by which to defend my position. “Have we already forgotten how offended we all were when the unicorns sought to insert themselves into the internal affairs of Pegasopolis? And now we propose to subject the earth ponies to the same indignity? Let them elect who they will as their chancellor. ‘Tis a strictly internal matter.”

Steel gave a sharp nod. “Not our business.”

I was unsurprised when Swift Blade moved to support Bright Charger’s position. ‘Twas becoming clear that the battle lines were drawn, and factions were forming. Steel seemed favorably inclined to my own position, at least insofar as maintaining relatively friendly relations with Celestia and moving cautiously went, while Bright Charger and Swift Blade seemed more inclined to take action. Rightly occupied the middle ground, content to hear both sides make their case before operating as the swing vote.

“I hardly think we need do something as invasive as the unicorn inspection,” Swift Blade answered smoothly. “Such activities would indeed be most inappropriate. However, we can hardly ignore the fact that our position is much more secure if Celestia no longer holds sway over the earth ponies. There are certainly measures we can take to encourage Apple Tree’s victory without crossing beyond the bounds of propriety.”

Bright Charger offered a sharp nod. “We need hardly campaign for her openly to aid her candidacy.”

Rightly closed his eyes in thought for several seconds before he spoke. “In times when the earth pony elections actually had meaningful outcomes, ‘twas common for Pegasopolis to send an envoy to those candidates who seemed likely to win. ‘Tis a useful means of gaining the measure of the new potential chancellor, and ensuring a smooth transition of power and continued good relations ‘tween the tribes. ‘Twould be entirely fitting and proper to do such a thing in this case as well.”

My ears flicked at the words entering them. “This is unwise. We speak of not seeking conflict with Celestia, yet now you make plans to undermine her? In doing this, we play in the hooves of Sunbeam Sparkle, or whoever is to take her place at Celestia’s side. We would prove ourselves enemies to Celestia, rather than simply ponies who held grievances with certain lapses in her performance.”

“There may be some truth to your words.” Swift Blade conceded, “Yet peace is best maintained by bringing all parties to relative parity. A situation where two of the pony tribes stand united ‘gainst the third is inherently unstable. Better that we offend a few unicorns by acting to preserve peace than allow such a volatile imbalance of power to persist.”

Steel scowled at nothing in particular. “Politics. Ugly business.” 

“Thus, why I care so little for it,” Bright Charger announced with a cavalier toss of her head. For one who so disliked matters political, she did display an impressive degree of skill. “However, as good stewards of Pegasopolis, ‘tis our duty to act in a way which protects the interests of Pegasopolis. Can any here deny that, as things currently stand, Celestia’s defeat would be to our benefit?”

Much to my chagrin, ‘twas not a weak argument. So long as the ephorate sought to maintain a degree of independence from Celestia, ‘twas only logical that they weaken her position among the earth ponies. However, such a move ill-suited my purposes.

“Shadow?” Rightly prompted. “Wouldst thou say anything further on the matter?”

I could conjure no reasons beyond those already given. “I repeat that we must avoid entangling ourselves in the internal political affairs of other tribes, lest we find ourselves as intrusive as the unicorns.”

“A fair point,” Bright Charger conceded to my surprise. “Which is why I would suggest that for now we adopts the compromise measure suggested by Acting Commander Rightly.”

‘Twas a distressingly effective final gesture. In one fell swoop she’d associated her measure with Rightly and made herself seem reasonable and even-hoofed. Though it pained me to confess it, Bright had gotten the better of me. Though ‘twas inevitable, perhaps; from the start, she’d held the far stronger position.

Though it came as little surprise, it still pained me when Rightly offered a quick apologetic look to me before nodding his consent. It came as no surprise, though; Bright had done well in prompting him to offer a solution on the matter. Anypony would be inclined to favor a course they had suggested themselves.

After several long seconds, Steel Striker also offered a reluctant nod. “Rightly’s idea works, long as we don’t get sucked in any further.”

Damnation, Steel was not standing with me on this matter. Not that the outcome would have changed if Rightly had already been persuaded, but I would prefer not to find myself alone once more in my opposition. “I vote against this measure.”

Rightly offered me a faintly apologetic smile. “Understood, Shadow. The measure passes at four votes in favor, one opposed.”

I began to experience a quiet sort of dread building in the depths of my stomach. I could not help but suspect that ‘ere the day was out, there would be many more matters brought to vote, and all would end with a similar majority. I felt less an ephor, and more an unwelcome guest. There was nothing I could do to alter the course of the ephorate, save a few minor delays. 

I faced the indignity of being an ephor, and thus being tied to the ephorate’s every decision, whilst having little ability to affect the ephorate’s policies. I could not even distance myself from their choices beyond a few private assurances. Though the ephorate may dissent in private discussion, ‘twas most unseemly for such disagreement to be taken into the public realm—especially when discussing matters that we’d already ruled upon. E’en if I had chosen to become the Acting Commander, I likely would be forced to implement and support policies I had no faith in.

I was helpless. Trapped. The situation was intolerable.