”Give me life, and end this strife!
~Unknown
“Ashes to ashes, soot to soot,” Spike muttered to himself as he slowed to a stop, peering down at the spine of a book. His claw traced the tattered cover, testing its resilience. Aged, like every book in the Castle of the Two Sisters, but not one of the few that crumbled to his touch. Twilight would insist on restoring it, especially with the worrisome burnt streaks he examined as he pulled the book from the shelf.
Spike turned the book in his claws, searching for a title. Through the dark streaks, he tried to make out the cover’s pattern.
A rainbow and… explosions? Magic? Magic explosions? Spike furrowed his brow as he made his way to his throne of books, staring at faded hues. Plopping down, he cracked the tome open and peered at the nearly illegible scribbling, pausing only to cough as a considerable amount of dust floated into the air.
The first line was completely incomprehensible, leaving Spike no choice to bit his lip as sweat beaded his forehead. It’s definitely a date. A journal, perhaps? Maybe Twilight missed one of Princess Celestia’s journals...
Finding nothing interesting on the first page, being only the ramblings of one who had no idea the purpose of such a journal, Spike flipped through the tome and chose a random page to skim so he could identify the old book.
“Dear diary… Oh finally, something readable,” Spike muttered as his eyes scanned the pages. “King Geōrgios the Tyrant has ignored the treaty and seized the colony hives, forcing the lesser queens to submit or face punishment for treason.”
Spike reared back from the tome and cocked his head, skimming through the next passages. “This was written by a changeling? Why would it be here…?”
Spike chewed his lip as he slouched over the scribbling. Hm… history is history, so Twilight is going to want to see—er, read its contents. But what is changeling history doing here? Maybe I should…
He flipped the page and continued reading on his throne of literature.
The owner of the contents was a young female, but no name was given. Worker caste, but enlisted in the militia as war with the tyrant king loomed over the horizon. A waking nightmare of a timid worker seeking only to feed her young, and risking enslavement to do so. Spike growled as familiar faces of previous foes flashed through his mind’s eye. Evil never changes.
“A manticore?!” Spike cried out as he traversed over another smudged page. “The king was a manticore?!” He sighed. Well, it isn’t too out there. He flipped the page and continued reading about the atrocities of the tyrant’s acts. He was manticore of the highest breed, ruthlessness and cunning beyond its kind’s normal capabilities, and capable of the greatest evils.
Wow, I’d rather play cards with the Diamond Dogs than ever meet this guy, he thought, shivering as he read what happened to the rebels. Nope, make that Discord, and he cheats.
At last, the tome’s contents turned to lighter days. The owner was assigned a colony outside the manticore’s influence, where at last the entries detailed her life rather than her fears. The friends she made, her young’s development, and her duties as a worker.
I’ll have to ask Twilight about castes later, Spike thought as the owner described her visit to the marketplace. Sounds kind of like cutie marks. Didn’t know changelings had something like that. Or about this whole rebellion.
Spike licked a claw, grasped the corner of the page, and flipped.
Slave.
Sighing, he fought the temptation to throw the journal aside, fighting the urge to burn the book to a crisp. Of course. A nation of changelings oppressed by an evil manticore, and they still have slaves? Idiots!
“Oh, I have to read this,” Spike muttered as the owner approached the slave market. “Work on the fields has slowed as of late, requiring more hired hooves. Without a steady income, a more ‘permanent solution’ is in order. So, with a heavy heart, I was forced to purchase one of the furry creatures. One had a front and a strong back, but was purchased by one of the noble caste before I could even lay eyes upon him. Shame, he was handsome and young. Might have fed for weeks before draining him dry. I settled with a young striped female, and for a good price too!”
“Blah blah blah, she became like family,” Spike muttered as he skipped passage and passage of fluff. Excuse after excuse merely sickened him further. “Right.”
“That’s it, I’m done,” Spike grunted as he stood up, tucking the book underneath his arm as he walked through the ancient library. “If Twilight catches me in the Everfree Forest this late again, it’s going to be chores, chores, and chores all week!”
Spike paused and chuckled to himself. “Like I’ll notice a difference.”
“Caste? Why do you ask?” Twilight asked as she skimmed the book given to her as a “gift” from her mother, something Spike wasn’t keen on correcting.
Spike traced a circle with foot, rubbing his elbows. “Uh, I just looked at it a little. Something about workers and, er, slaves.”
“Slaves, huh?” Twilight raised an eyebrow as she set the book down on the wooden table of her library and home. “Slavery was abolished long ago, except for—“
“The Crystal Empire, yeah,” Spike finished for her. “But even that’s over now, thank goodness.”
Twilight smirked. “Indeed, my studious assistant. Taking an interest in learning history? Did Shining or Cadence say something?”
“Nope,” Spike admitted, “I was just curious after looking at the book. What is a caste?” He took a seat opposite Twilight and tapped the table as he waited for the pondering scholar to answer.
“Well…” Twilight furrowed her brow. “A caste is irrelevant in a culture with our destinies branded upon us. A cutie mark shows the chosen destiny of the individual, but a caste is what one is born into. Like nobles, or… slaves.”
“I see,” Spike said as he leaned forward. He motioned toward the open book before Twilight. “But the one in there doesn’t seem very… oppressed.”
“Oh, slavery wasn’t the same for every culture.” Twilight rubbed her chin. “Changelings weren’t known for physical—“Twilight shook her head. “This is an uncomfortable subject, Spike. They worked, were fed and treated well for the most part, and that was that.”
“And how do you know that?”
Twilight smirked. “After the failed invasion, I did a little more research on my own. I do know a bit about changeling culture, Spike. Besides, they abolished slavery a few hundred years ago anyway.”
Spike’s thoughts turned to the changeling queen that had stolen Cadence’s identity many moons ago. “Are you sure about that? Their magic worked on Shining well enough.”
“You’re forgetting one thing, Spike,” Twilight cocked her head as she skimmed a new page of the burnt tome. “Just become somepony is capable of something doesn’t mean they’ll always do it. Queen Chrysalis was evil, yes, but that doesn’t mean all changelings are evil. I mean, just think about it.”
Twilight waved a hoof as her eyes remained on the pages. “Put this into perspective. You were born into the care of another race, and you basically work for no pay. Does that make you a slave?”
“No!” Spike slammed his claws on the table, piercing the wood. Smoke trailed out of his nostrils as he tried to contain his breathing. “I am not a slave! I have friends! I have family! I’m loved and respected and I have a place here!”
“You don’t think this slave didn’t either?” Twilight probed as she rested a hoof on a passage. “Because right here is about the changeling teaching the zebra how to read, and how she nannies for the children. Look, it even says she’s considered family. Sound familiar?”
Spike crossed his arms and glared at Twilight. “It’s different.”
Twilight beamed as she closed the tome. “That’s right, Spike. It is. Besides, if the dates on this journal are correct, the zebra doesn’t have to worry for too long. Slavery was abolished once the Treaty of Nations was signed by the High Queen and Princess Celestia. If there’s one thing the two agreed on, it was the greed of the manticore tyrant.”
“Greed?”
“Well yes, mister historian,” Twilight said before sticking out her tongue. “The only reason he kept taking and taking was the insane taxes he implemented on his empire. Not much you could do with a ruler with paralyzing spines, but many of his subjects found them beyond reasonable. Of course, the subject is much more complicated than simple taxes, but the king was evil.”
“But the changelings… slavery…” Spike stared down at the table. “They weren’t evil?”
“No Spike, they weren’t. Slavery is wrong, yes, but everypony makes mistakes. Some are just worse than others… But hey!” Twilight slammed the table with a quick jab of her hoof. “When slavery was abolished, the zebras and changelings stood together as one! King Geōrgios didn’t stand a chance against a united nation!”
“Heh, that sounds kind of like us.” Spike chuckled. “Hearth’s Warming Eve, and the windigos.”
“And don’t forget the unicorn nobles didn’t exactly treat the other races fairly.” Twilight stood up as she stood up and turned toward the bookshelves, leaving Spike to his thoughts.
Huh… I guess we aren’t so different after all, he admitted to himself with a chagrined shrug. Maybe Zecora or Princess Celestia will know a bit more about this.
Slam! went a new tome as it landed before Spike. Twilight’s magic enveloped the book as the pages flipped past and landed on a particular section. Rather than words or diagrams, a simple pattern decorated the page: black and white stripes behind a green sun.
“Hey, that looks just like her cutie mark…” Spike scratched his chin. “So it wasn’t an explosion…”
“Yes, the Celestial Star,” Twilight purred as she hugged her young assistant and student. “The symbol of the zebras’ history, and the changelings’ as well.”
Without a word, Spike stood up and strode out of Twilight’s grasp. She lowered her foreleg and watched as he bounced up the stairs and jumped onto her bed. He reached for his quill and parchment and began writing down his own thoughts.
Dear Princess Celestia...