//------------------------------// // Interlude 1 // Story: The Lunar Rebellion // by Chengar Qordath //------------------------------// Because Shadow’s autobiography is an account of her own life and actions rather than a proper narrative of all the events of the Lunar Rebellion, there are some aspects of the conflict which she does not focus upon because they had little relevance to her. In order to correct that and provide a broader sense of scope to my readers, I’ve taken the liberty of including some additional material for added context. While “The Assassination of Apple Tree by the Coward Danver Carrot” is technically a work of historical fiction, I found it to be well-researched enough to be accurate, and far more readable than a proper academic text. Given the rather contentious nature of the subject, there’s a lot of biased research on the matter, especially where folklore and popular legend take the place of proper history. Thus, with the author’s permission, I’ve opted to include a few excerpts from his book to provide the readers with more information on what’s going on with the earth ponies. I would also like the apologize in advance for the rather unique flavor of this excerpt. Blame the original author of the book, who decided to have everypony talking in thick modern country accents. I’m not sure how accurate the accent is compared to how ponies actually spoke nine hundred years ago, but I suppose he would sound rustic, so using an equivalent modern accent works for conveying that impression to readers. It all started with a real simple idea. Them that works the land oughta own the land too. Things used to be that way, back in the old days. A farmer had as much land as them an' their family could work; no more, an’ no less. S’only proper. But the thing is, some farms ended up bein’ bigger an’ better than others. That let them farmers get a little richer than the others, an' eventually some of them started figurin’ they oughta have more on account of havin’ more money. So they bought up more land than they could farm, then went an' started hirin’ ponies to work the spare land. Now, that ain’t such a terrible thing just by itself, but the whole situation kinda ended up like when you got a snowball rollin’ down a hill. Them big farmers get more land, which gets ‘em more money, which they use to buy up even more land, an' ... well, y’get the idea. Pretty soon, ain’t nopony except a couple folks owns any land, an' them’s livin’ up in fancy mansions puttin’ on airs while the rest of us are still in the dirt, doin’ a real earth pony’s work. Pretty soon, things got to the point where them magnates—that’s what them rich ponyfolk took to callin’ themselves—well they pretty much controlled anythin’ an' everythin’ When a small group of ponies ends up havin’ all the land an’ all the money, it ain’t gonna be long before they’re pretty much runnin’ the whole thing.  Sure, we got us a nice democracy here instead of things bein’ run by a buncha highfalutin’ nobles or some army types, but all that votin’ don’t count for much when all we got’s the choice of votin’ for one rich pony or another. Sure, they might differ on a couple a things, but they all agreed that it oughta be a government made up of magnates an' runnin’ things for the magnates. Reckon that’s about where Ah come into the picture. ‘Twas a hot summer, ‘bout like most. The sorta day that makes me glad Ah had the good fortune to be born into the Apple Family. Y’see, the nice thing about runnin’ an apple orchard is you get to spend a lotta time workin’ in the shade. Poor Danver, workin’ the next plot over tendin’ to his carrots, well he didn’t have nothin’ but the hat on his head ‘tween him an’ Celestia’s sun. After a couple hours of watching him bust his back an’ sweat so bad he was readier to keel over than a drought-worn tree, Ah decided to have a little mercy on ‘im. He’s a good ol’ boy, an’ it was just the neighborly thing to do. “Hey, Danver! C’mon over here an’ set down a spell!” Ah thought it over for a moment, an’ added. “Got me a bit of cider Ah mighta forgotten to mention to the overseer, if’n you want somethin’ to drink.” Danver’s ears perked right up when Ah mentioned the cider. Ain’t nopony can say no to a good ol’ mug of cider after a hard day’s work. Sure enough, Danver ambled on over, an’ by the time Ah done run to the house an’ back to get a couple wooden mugs of the stuff, he’d gone an’ gotten real cozy. Soon’s Ah was in hoof’s reach, he took that mug of cider an’ done swigged half of it down so fast it probably didn’t do more’n brush his tongue. Farmin’s thirsty work. “Thank ya kindly, Tree,” Danver done said. “Ah surely do wish Ah could set down for a spell, but Ah can’t spare more’n a couple minutes ‘fore Ah gotta get back out there.” “Bumper Crop ridin’ ya hard?” “Ayuh, he most surely is.” Danver grumbled an’ took him another swig of that cider. “Says Ah ain’t brung in enough last two harvest, an’ if’n Ah don’t do better this time ‘round mah family’s off the farm.” “Ain’t right.” Ah bucked one of my trees, just on account of it all. “Ain’t proper that some fancy city stallion up in Manehatten can take ya offa yer land, just cause yer goin’ through a couple dry years.” “That’s the rub though, ain’t it?” Danver rolled his shoulders in a helpless shrug. “It ain’t mah land, it’s his. Ah just work it.” “Still ain’t proper,” Ah growled. “Y’got a wife an’ kids t’feed, an’ yer stuck workin’ a dried up piece of land ain’t no good for nothin’, an’ then ya gotta give half yer harvest to some magnate ain’t never done an honest day’s work in ‘is life, an’ then pay taxes on what’s left after. It ain’t right. An’ then ya hear tell ‘bout some of the other stuff they get up to.” Ah started feelin’ right ornery as a couple of the stories Ah done heard sprang to mind. “Didja hear ‘bout what happened over near Trottingham way? Ah done heard from mah cousin Adamac who heard from his sister-in-law Brown Barley, who done heard from one of her friends that the magnate up there’s a real piece of work. Makes folks leave their daughters an’ wives up at his mansion fer a week if’n they don’t make their quotas.” “Ah dunno if’n there’s anythin’ to it.” Danver drank the last of mah cider. “Ain’t y’ever noticed that them kindsa stories always come from somepony who done heard it from somepony else who heard it from another somepony who lives halfway ‘cross Equestria?” If’n Ah was ornery before, now Ah was downright riled. “You callin’ mah kin a liar?” “Now hold yer horses, Ah ain’t sayin’ nothin’ like that.” Danver put up his hooves like he was tryin’ to calm down a Timberwolf or somethin’. “Ah’m just sayin’, there’s a lotta talk goes around, an’ Ah ain’t sure there’s anythin’ to all of it. If we’re hearin’ ‘bout it all the way out here, d’you really think it ain’t been nowhere else? Tell me a magnate’s puttin’ the squeeze on his sharecroppers, an’ Ah’d believe it. That kinda thing ... nah. S’just too much. Ain’t no way Chanc’ler Celestia’d let ponies get away with somethin’ like that.” “You reckon she knows?” Ah took a drink of my own cider to get some of the dust out of mah throat. “She ain’t left Canterlot since mah grandpappy was younger’n me.” Danver thought it over for a spell, then slowly nodded. “Reckon you ain’t wrong. Ah ain’t sayin’ it’s all as bad as ya think, but it surely could be better. Don’t see as there’s any point in flappin’ our jaws ‘bout it, though. End of the day, that’s just the way things are, an' ain’t nothin’ that you an’ me can do that’s gonna change it.” He stood up an' stretched, his joints lettin’ out a buncha pops. “Ain’t nothin’ we can do but keep on workin’ an’ hope we can provide for our own kin.” “An’ hope yer magnate don’t steal the food outta their mouths,” Ah shot right back. “If’n it gets under yer tail that much, y’could always just move out to the frontier,” Danver tossed out. “Ain’t no magnates out there.” “Eeyup, reckon Ah could.” Ah snorted. “If’n Ah cared to be eaten by one of them manticores or dragons or whatever monsters they got livin’ out there. An’ soon’s the place get to the point where folk can live like real ponies, you know them magnates is gonna swoop right in an’ buy everythin’ up.” Ah just shook mah head at the whole idea of it. “No sir, Ah ain’t bustin’ mah back turning a buncha dirt an’ rocks into a proper farm, only fer some big city pony to buy it all up.” “Then just pony up an’ deal.” Danver shrugged. “Ain’t nobody got time to spend on gettin’ mad over what can’t be changed.” “Why can’t it be changed?” Ah askt. “Somepony oughta do somethin’ ‘bout it.” Danver just went an' snorted at me. “Shoot, you sound like yer aimin’ to up an’ run fer office.” An’ that’s when it hit me like the bolt of lightning that went an' split that tree over on Farmer Joe’s field. “Well shucks, Danver. That ain’t a half-bad idea.” “You pullin’ mah leg?” Danver glared suspiciously at me. When Ah didn’t go an’ say Ah was just funnin’ him, he went an’ got downright antsy. “Now don’t go talkin’ crazy like that, Tree. If’n it get ‘round yer figurin’ on buckin’ the system, it’s gonna bring all kindsa trouble down on us. An’ y’aint gonna win, anyways. How’re you even gonna run for office an’ put food on the table for yer family at the same time? B’sides, y’aint gonna be takin’ on all the resources them magnates got an’ winning.” Ah had mah mouth halfway open t’say somethin’ when Ah figured out that Ah didn’t have nothin’ t’say to that. Danver had a damn good point: ain’t no way Ah could win, ‘specially not if Ah needed to put in time on the farm to keep mah kin fed. It just weren’t practical. “Hay,” Danver grumbled, waving a hoof. “If’n yer gonna go an’ do somethin’ like this, y’might as well go an’ challenge Chanc’ler Celestia herself. Ain’t nopony runnin’ ‘gainst her yet.” “Dadgum, Danver, you really are sharper than a sickle sometimes!” Ah grinned an' clapped him on the back. “That’s exactly what Ah’m gonna do! That way ain’t no magnates gonna get in mah way, an’ Ah can get lot more ponies to up an’ listen to me if’n Ah’m goin’ all over Equestria! Ain’t there some kinda ... y’know, a campaign fund or somethin’? Ah know Ah done hear two elections back one of them magnates ran just t’get a tax break.” “You serious?” Danver looked at me like Ah’d just sprouted a horn from my head an' started whining about there being mud on my hooves. “Like, fer real serious?” “Ah surely am,” Ah told him. “Well, shoot.” He slapped a hoof on his haunches. “Ah tell you what, if’n you actually manage to go an’ do somethin’ crazy like that, Ah’ll be yer campaign manager. But Ah’ll tell ya right now, if’n you manage to pull that off, you can shave mah tail an’ start callin’ me a mule.” Nine months (and a good chunk of the novel) later... “So how ya feelin’ today, mule?” Ah gave mah campaign manager a big ol’ slap on the back. “Aw, shut yer mouth,” Danver grumbled. “Ah still don’t even know how Ah got roped into this.” Ah tapped a hoof on mah chin. “Well, as Ah recall it all started with you an’ me out in the field—” Danver interrupted ‘fore Ah got any further. “Ah know, Ah know. Still can’t rightly believe it, though.” The Carrot smacked a hoof against the side of the wagon pullin’ us along. “Ah mean look at us. Less’n a year ago all we had on our minds was how to survive the next harvest, an' now our families got food in their bellies an' we’re ridin’ on inta Manehatten itself so you can give a big ol’ speech to all the swells livin’ in the big city.” “Sure is somethin’, ain’t it?” It was kinda startlin’ how easy it’d all been. Don’t get me wrong, there was a lotta trouble early on. Took a lotta just t’get folks to up an listen’ t’me for five minutes. Most farm folk figure it don’t matter none what goes on in the rest of Equestria, as long as their little patch of land is taken care of. The local magnate’s gonna be what matters t’them, not a buncha ponies dressed up in fancy suits an' ties up Manehatten way. Most ponies just figured Ah was just crazy or blowin’ a bunch of smoke when Ah started talkin’ ‘bout runnin’ fer Chanc’ler. Guess that did kinda work out, though. Don’t reckon the magnates never woulda let me run if’n they cottoned to what Ah was really aimin’ to do. They just all figured Ah was off on some damnfool adventure, an’ once Ah done got beat by Chanc’ler Celestia Ah’d come on home with mah tail b’tween mah legs an’ get back to farmin’. Probably why they actually let me get the campaign money that’s s’posta go to anypony’s runnin’ for office. There’s s’posta be election funds, so the rich don’t have no unfair advantage when elections start up.  Funny thing, but anytime a farmer who runs for office without stoppin’ by the local magnate’s first, hat in his hooves while kindly asks permission to exercise his democratic rights, it just don’t work out. If he don’t get the magnate’s say so, it turns out there ain’t no bits left for ‘em. ‘Budget cuts,’ they call it. A big load of horseapples, Ah says. But ain’t nopony worried about me yet. Ain’t none of the fancy types in big houses gettin’ waited on hoof an' mouth by servants ever bothered to stop on by when Ah’m talkin’ to ponies down in the mud an' dirt where real work gets done. They ain’t heard what Ah gots to say. They don’t get that it ain’t about Celestia at all. That’s just a way to get my message out, an' enough bits that Ah can actually spend some time talkin’ instead of bein’ tied to a plow all day to put food on the table. The real target’s them. Ah aim to get folks thinkin’ it’s past time we pulled them fatcats outta their fancy houses an' made them share the wealth a bit with all the proper farmfolk doin’ the real work. The land rightly belongs to them that works it, not a buncha highfalutin’ fancy-pants ‘gentleponies’ ain’t never gotten dirt on their hooves since the day they was born. There was just one little ol’ problem. Settin’ down with a couple dozen farmers in a village square an’ just havin’ a little straight talk was one thing, but now Ah had a whole ‘nother kettle of corn: Ah was headin’ into the big city to give a bona-fide speech. Now, call me silly or a coward if’n y’want, but the idea of standin’ up in front of a whole crowd of ponyfolk an’ flappin’ mah jaws scared me worse than bucket of rattlers. It was a durn fool thing, but Ah think Ah was less scared that one time Ah ran into a wild timberwolf. Hay, all Ah had to worry then was dyin’. Not all them ponies sittin’ there, lookin’ at me. Judgin’. “Aw, relax already.” Danver reached on over an' clapped me on the back. “It can’t be half as bad yer afraid of.” Ah done forgot mah speech. There Ah was, standin’ on a stage in front of all of Manehatten, an' Ah didn’t have nothin’ to say. Well, truth be told it weren’t even fraction of Manehatten had as far as ponyfolk went. But in a city the size of Manehatten, if one pony outta a hundred decides to drop on by to have a listen just outta curiosity to hear what this crazy farmer runnin’ ‘gainst Celestia herself has to say for himself, yer still gonna end up with a pretty big crowd. An’ right now, every single one of them must think Ah was a goldurned idjit. Ah’d had a speech all nice an’ put together in mah head, but now it weren’t nowhere to be found. Maybe next time Ah oughta see about writin’ it down on some paper. T’be honest, mah letters ain’t all that great, but even a speech that takes a minute or two to puzzle out was better’n none at all. Danver poked me in the ribs with one of his big clodhopper hooves. “Tree, you been standin’ up there with a simple look on yer face for near a minute now. G’wan an’ start talkin’ already!” Well, applebuckin’. Think it woulda been real easy to just call it quits right there. Hang up mah hat an’ head on back to the farm an’ grow another crop of apples, then give half of ‘em to Bumper Crop ‘cause Ah was workin’ land the law said was his. Think Ah mighta done that if’n Ah weren’t born an Apple. See, if’n there’s one thing all us Apple ponies have in common, it’s that ain’t a one of us ever learned how to quit. Lotta ponies just give up when they know they’re beat, but us Apples? We git mad. Ain’t nothing gets an Apple riled quite like the idea that we was fixin’ to lose somethin’. So, hay—maybe Ah was goin’ down, but Ah damn sure aimed to go down swingin’. Ah cleared mah throat, an’ got down to it. “T’tell y’all the truth, Ah had mahself a real pretty speech all written up in mah head an' ready for y’all, but soon’s Ah stepped up here an’ got one look at all of ya, the whole durn thing just flew right outta mah head. So, reckon Ah’m gonna hafta make it up as Ah go along an’ hope that don’t make too much a mess of things. Hay, that dang speech probably weren’t no good anyway. Ah ain’t no pretty speaker, Ah’m a farmer. Don’t reckon Ah know much beyond how to take care of an apple tree or pull a plow. “But Ah’ll tell ya one thing Ah do know: the way things are now ain’t right. Ah ain’t sayin it’s some kinda horrible mess can’t never be fixed, but it ain’t right. Now, Ah hope y’all don’t mind me askin’ a question, but how many of y’all are farmers?” More hooves’ than Ah expected went up. Guess it shoulda figured, though; plenty of simple farmfolk got business in the big city. “An’ outta those of you who ain’t farmers, how many got kin in farmin’?” Even more hooves reached for the sky. Well, looks like Ah ain’t quite as lost as Ah was afraid of. “Shoot, now this whole thing just feels downright neighborly. Just got one question for you: how many of you farmfolk, or your kin, actually own the land they work?” Durn near all the hooves went down. “Reckon most of y’all end up handin’ out half of every harvest to some magnate on account of him ownin’ the land, don’tcha?” That drew a lot of grumbles an' nods outta everypony. “Even if ya luck out an’ get one of those good magnates who looks after the folk on his land, he’s still takin’ a chunk outta every harvest to pay fer all that lookin’ after, ain’t he? Same way as a real farmer takes care of his prize pig.” That got folks to talkin’ a bit more. “An’ even if yer one of those lucky fellas what owns his own land to work, Ah reckon you gotta deal with them magnates squeezin’ hard as they can to try an’ make it so’s you got no choice but to sell out to them, don’tcha?” Well, the good news was that Ah had folks listenin’ now. Thing is, even with all the farmers in the crowd, there was still a lotta city folk too. T’be honest, Ah don’t rightly know much about city livin’. Did know a couple things though, just from the talk a pony hears from kin an’ around the village. Still, that was enough to spitball it. “An’ Ah reckon things ain’t no different for most of you folks what’s got roots right here in Manehatten. Sure, you might have banks an' bosses instead of magnates, but at the end of the day it’s the same ol’ story, ain’t it? Y’got the rich folks up top, an’ us on the bottom. “Now Ah don’t know how all that sounds t’you, but t’me, that don’t seem very fair. Ah reckon it’s time we got a fairer deal. What do ya’ll think?” From the looks of the crowd, Ah think Ah weren’t doin’ half bad gettin’ some of them to listen. Problem is, just ‘cause they was listenin’ didn’t mean everypony liked what they was hearin’. One fella decided to have himself a couple words about that. “That all sounds real nice, Mister Apple Tree, but what’s any of it got to do with you runnin’ ‘gainst Celestia?” It was a darn good question, an’ one Ah didn’t have much of an answer to. Thinkin’ about Chanc’ler Celestia got me to ponderin’ on it, an’ that’s when the answer hit me like a bolt outta the blue. “Now folks, if’n Ah was to ask y’all to describe what it is a magnate is or what those kinda folk does, would y’all say it’s a pretty fair description to say that magnate’s somepony who spends all their time in a fancy house, livin’ fancy ways, an’ not gettin’ their hooves dirty with an honest day’s work?” Weren’t nopony there could argue with that. The next part was what really got folks thinkin’, though. “Now, the way Ah see it, we got two sorts of ponyfolk. Ponies who spend sixteen hours a day bustin’ their backs just t’feed their families, an’ folks livin’ off all that hard work we do. So tell me this: when’s the last time you saw Chanc’ler Celestia pullin’ a plow, or spendin’ all day busting her hump down at the docks? Last Ah heard, she spends most of her time in a fancy palace. Sorta like them magnates do, except bigger. So, if’n there’s two types of ponyfolk out there, which kind d’you figure she is? Dunno ‘bout you, but Ah figure it’s past time we had somepony lookin’ out for the little pony.” From there, Ah had to deal with answerin’ a whole bushel of questions. Don’t rightly know how many of the folks who listened to what Ah had say actually thought Ah had the right idea, but some of ‘em did. Hay, a couple even found me after an’ told me they were reckoning on actually votin’ for me over Chanc’ler Celestia. Didn’t plan things that way, but it was downright flatterin’. What really mattered, though, was that once Ah was done Ah had a whole lotta ponies thinkin’ about things they used to take for granted. Reckon the first step to making change is getting ponies to realize that they can change things. Goin’ by that, Ah call this a pretty darn good speech.