Was it normal, for the streets to be so empty?
Under Sombra's rule... there had been an exact time and place assigned to everypony. A time to work, a time to shop. A time to teach and a time to learn. A time to sing their praise towards the palace and another which took place in the evenings, which had apparently been more of a lullaby. And with that schedule drawn up and fully understood, just about everypony would always be found in their designated place at the ordered time, excepting the ones who'd been a little bit late and thus effectively reassigned themselves to the laboratory.
She hadn't been able to get rid of all of it, for some of the set hours had a basis in common sense, with only the punishments emerging from cruelty. Work hours, shopping hours, school hours: most of that had survived, along with the desperate surge of fear which hit whenever a crystal pony realized they were on the verge of being late, with the secondary meaning of that last word not quite forgotten. So right now, flying over the light-scattering roads... yes, there was a chance the streets had originally been meant to be so empty, because it was work time for many, along with learning time for the youngest. (And she was still working on getting rid of the texts Sombra had dictated, with the exception of copies she was saving for the library and Canterlot Archives, because even crimes against history needed to be on the court record.)
But there were more shops opening every week, and with the tightest time restraints lifted, a few of the crystal ponies were beginning to venture out with the intent of at least finding out what it was like to consider using them, although she was now starting to wonder if that was because the restoration of that portion of the capital had created something which had come across as a virtual order. But still... it meant that even if there weren't ponies visibly heading towards the shops, she was guaranteed to find a number working within.
So she flew over the capital, heading for the central shopping district, keeping her focus on the empty streets. And there were times when it seemed as if she heard things from below: little gasps which preceded the closure of a window or the slamming of a door. When she'd originally sped away from the palace, almost fleeing from desperate praise wearing the constantly-slipping mask of honesty, she could have sworn she'd heard a brief explosion of sound at the main gate, something like a snort of surprise exhaled with six times the normal force -- but she'd been moving at speed, it hadn't registered as a threat, and so by the time instinct allowed knowledge to fully pass through, she'd already been too far ahead to truly consider doubling back. She'd probably just startled a few Guards, armored mice reacting to the shadow of a crownless hawk.
And if that had been it, their reaction wasn't unique.
[/hr]
"Hello!" Cadance beamed as her field carefully closed the sparkling door. She was keeping her voice pleasant, with her volume low enough that it wouldn't drown out the little crystal bell set just above the top of the frame, still ringing its tiny alert of her presence. "Oh, isn't this just a beautiful little shop! What do you sell here -- oh, cordials!" So many crystal decanters, with a full spectrum of liquids adding their own shifts to the rainbow-filled light. "Yes, that's right, I did say production could begin again! And you're already back in business, just a mere two moons later. It's quite impressive, really, especially given the variety you've already got in stock. I suppose there must have been a true demand motivating such a fast revival, Miss -- Mister -- um... excuse me..."
She looked around again. A complete lack of ponies met her gaze in every way.
"...does... anypony work here?"
Silence proudly stepped in and tried to provide an equal opportunity answer.
"...hello?"
Consistency seized the throne, and Cadance went through a brief moment where as far as she was concerned, consistency could have it. But she rallied quickly.
"I... um... just wanted to talk. To whoever runs this beautiful shop. Somepony must work here, right? Or maybe -- you just stepped out and left the door unlocked, because... well, it's not like anypony ever stole..." Not under Sombra's rule, at least not more than once. "So maybe I should just wait... until you come back, and..."
...if there's nopony here, then who am I talking to?
Cadence repressed most of the sigh, then looked around again. There was a closed door behind the sales counter, presumably leading to a storage room. And while the display cases and shelves were, at most, translucent, the door and counter were mostly opaque, which meant --
-- actually, now that she was looking directly towards the counter...
She carefully trotted forward, being exceptionally cautious in her movements and keeping a constant proprioceptionary eye on her wings: crystal ponies were, on average, a little smaller than those from Equestria's three main races and even with that size difference factored in, the aisles were still exceptionally narrow ones. It took ten precise hoofsteps against tone-sounding floor, with a pause to let the music fade from each, before she began to hear the too-fast breathing.
It was hard to glance down behind the mostly-opaque sales counter in a gentle manner. But she tried.
"Hello?"
The iridescent green fetal position ball of pony trembling against the rose base, finally visible as more than a shadow, said something. Between the near-whisper, vibration, and the fact that the mouth was tucked into the body, she couldn't figure out any of the content. It could have been a greeting. It could have been a gasp. She was desperately hoping it hadn't been a prayer.
"...please look up?"
Reluctantly, the body uncurled just enough to let her see the jawline: a stallion, and an exceptionally small one.
"Princ --" and he stopped.
He was breathing far too quickly, and she -- seemed to be on the verge of matching him. She hadn't felt her own pace shifting, didn't know why it was happening. But the sudden urge to weep... that she understood all too well, and far too much time passed as she fought it off. Sparkling grey eyes watched the process without blinking, or comprehension. But fear... fear stocked every shelf, and there weren't enough cordials in the Empire to make it go away.
"Talk to me," Cadance said. It had not been an order. To her own ears, it had sounded like a plea.
The little head shook, almost tucked back in.
"You heard the Decree," she helplessly said. "Everypony did, didn't they? I hate the Ear, I hate just touching it, but it works. You know what I asked for. There has to be something you want to say about -- well..." Her volume was dropping. "...you're affected by the new laws more than a lot of ponies. Your product was banned for... a long time. You wouldn't have this shop under Sombra. You wouldn't..." Be. "...have this new opportunity. But it's hard to make a perfect change. Maybe I made the taxes too high. A minimum age requirement for purchase could have been the wrong idea, or that age is too low, or I should have added more years... I don't know, and part of that is just because I've never sold this sort of thing. But -- this is your business. You must have some ideas about what the government should and shouldn't do with it, just because it is yours. When it comes to the new policies, it puts you in a position to offer --" and it was so hard not to swallow before saying the words, it was becoming so hard to talk at all "-- honest criticism."
He breathed, and just barely.
"So -- please..." And with that, pleading had become begging. "Talk to me. About those policies, which I know you're aware of, or you wouldn't have been able to open at all. What could I have done better? Is business good just on word of mouth, or should the palace be doing more to let ponies know you're out here? Does your tax burden feel too high? You -- you have to have an opinion..."
And based on what resulted, his only expressed opinion was that breathing was becoming harder by the moment.
Her next move -- the last move it felt like she could make at all -- was done on instinct, and she didn't realize it had been a mistake until much later. She trotted around the counter. She slowly lowered herself to the floor, about half a body length away. And she tucked herself into the smallest bundle of life she could manage to become -- which, even as the smallest of the alicorns, left her too much larger than he was, something which blocked out the symphony of rainbows to cast a looming shadow...
But in that moment, all she felt was that it was the last thing she could do to make herself into less of a threat. Wings still at her sides, head low, facing partially away from him, with her horn partially covered by an awkwardly-positioned foreleg.
"...please?"
Silence, but for that too-fast breathing.
"I..."
No, there was one thing she could say, the thing which had worked with Jasper, if only for a moment. "...I give you an exemption from the Decree. Long enough to tell me why you won't use it, because... there have to be things you wanted to say, you must have wanted to say some of them when he was still here and... he's gone, he's dead, and..."
...I'm not him.
Please... please don't make me into him...
The words were a whisper. But they were words.
"You -- you said --"
Her head came up. Eyes which had begun to brighten due to freshly-coating moisture started to lighten from within. "Yes?"
"...that if we could only say something nice... not to say anything at all..."
Feathers trembled, her tail vibrated, her entire body seemed to be trying to collapse in on itself --
"-- and I... I obey..."
She had never learned how to teleport, despite all of Celestia's attempts at instruction. Never managed to master the feel, and part of that had been from a subconscious refusal to surrender sky and ground for even the most momentary experience of the nothing that was the between. But she found herself outside the cordial shop without being entirely sure how she'd gotten there, with no memory of the transition, and for the briefest of moments, she thought she'd done it. Right up until she heard the final crash from the impacted display cases she'd pushed aside during her gallop.
She stood in place, trying only to breathe, letting the tears come to their own natural conclusion. It took some time. And then she moved towards another shop.
Then another.
And another...
[/hr]
It was an old joke, and one she'd never found particularly funny, let alone seen any truth lurking within. But Celestia had been the one to casually mention it, during a talk about bad assumptions, battle tactics, and the disasters which came when the two combined. Cadance had asked her if she had any which came to mind immediately, and after an extremely visible sorting period, the eldest of the alicorns -- no, elder, for at the time, there had been but two -- had said the words.
'Well... for starters, I thought there was no way a minotaur could be faster on the ground than a pony. And it turned out they are. Over a very short distance.'
She'd been surprised, and more than a little disbelieving: it was the latter which had gotten into her response. 'How?'
And Celestia had ruefully smiled. 'They... have less legs to sort out.'
Over a very short distance: she'd never been able to picture that. Two legs versus four: it didn't make any sense to have two win.
And over a very long one...
He was in excellent shape: that had been obvious at the very first glance. Muscles everywhere, with many of them being used to support more muscles. But that was in the upper body. The lower had visible strength, but not as much of it -- and during anything approaching an extended run, had the task of carrying all that muscle mass around for the duration.
He wasn't panting when he came around the corner, hand using a newly-placed street sign (written in Equestrian, planted for the benefit of those six -- seven tourists) for a pivot point, swinging his entire body around without losing speed. But he was close to it, and the sweat flowed down his body, outlining those muscles in rivers of frustration.
"Found you!" His pace began to drop as he approached the fountain, desperate (and, to her, low-speed) run starting to slow into a more normal walk, at least once she took the strangely hard hoof impacts out. (The road held against them, and threatened to do so forever.) "One set of wings in the whole red-tinged Empire, one alicorn out of three in the world -- the only thing easier to spot than you should be a red cape, and I've still been chasing you down the whole damn morning! Couldn't get in to see you yesterday, couldn't make your Guards understand that anyone would want to see you, and then you went right over my horns..."
She slowly pushed herself upright. The crystal fountain was... actually, she didn't want to think about what must have gone into that beauty right now, much less the orders required to bring it forth. But the water had been pure, and tears needed recharging.
Her face was dry now, but for a damp snout. But the tracks were still worn into her fur, they made her reluctant to fully face him -- and so she turned away.
Or it could have been something else.
Still... certain things remained visible from the back.
"...what the buck happened to your mane?"
She almost smiled. Instead, she quietly said "You're not the one I wanted to notice," and refused to turn.
He was getting closer. His breathing was somewhat labored. "Most of yesterday, part of the morning, trying to get to you without charging the palace. Doing it the right way because I figured that somewhere, you had to have a Guard who'd at least wonder why I wanted to see you so badly. To stop you -- and it's too late, it's way past noon by now and it's too red-tinged late..."
The fountain... was one of many, each beautiful in its own different way: the only thing they had in common was the horror which had inspired them. Every distinct district in the capital had a central fountain, and all of them had seeming rust at the base. (It didn't change the taste of the water, at least after she told herself that for the sixth time.) Cadance hadn't gone far for this one, had remained in the primary shopping district, the only pony on the streets at all. Because...
"...do you know what you did?" Iron Will demanded, and the words kicked against her flanks.
It felt as if it was taking an effort to keep her eyes open. "They're hiding," she softly replied. "They're all staying out of sight, as best they can. So if the Guards try to find them, summon them to the palace so they can speak with me, they might have a chance. Some of them are better at it than others. Maybe a few have secret cellars or cubbyholes from his days, hiding places which -- never worked. But they also felt they had to go to work, or school, so they went, and... maybe there's a channel of communication, something I don't know about. The magic for the Ear might not have come from nowhere. Lesser spells, passing the word from building to building, or just a single brave pony, trying to gallop ahead..."
He charged.
He had been behind her. And then he was in front of her, before she could truly reconcile the movement, recognize that movement had even taken place. But two legs had moved at a short-burst speed which four could not match, and now he was standing there, great breaths going in and out through widely-flared nostrils, hands clenched into fists. And she couldn't move.
Lost within his shadow.
"YOU -- BUCKING -- IDIOT!"
Muscles gleaming. Arms motionless at his sides. But hands vibrating, and eyes focused into an anger she'd never seen...
"...what?"
"Do you know how I found you?" Another shout, but not as loud this time: there was enough room left in her hearing for echoes, and some of them almost resembled the sounds of hooves moving across crystal floors, muffled by walls. "I followed the trail of fear, Princess! Every little refractor you made collapse in their own store, that one mare who was still shaking behind the tree in her garden, and I don't even want to think about what would have happened if you'd gone into a school! I told you! You can't give them an --"
She... had meant to try a school next. The instinctive honesty of children --
"-- it takes one pony!" She didn't know where the volume had come from. She could only hope there was more of it. "One pony to talk, one pony who honestly criticizes me and has nothing happen! One so that everypony else can see it's safe! That pony is somewhere in the Empire, they have to be, maybe galloping ahead to -- warn... They can't all be -- somewhere, one pony, Mr. Will, one pony who isn't -- isn't..."
"...broken?"
His knuckles were going white.
" -- I... I didn't say..."
He stared at her. Stared down. She wasn't used to that, not from anypony -- anyone -- other than Celestia. And it felt like his height was the least of it.
There was silence for a time, and it seemed as if there were more hoofsteps within it. Approaching walls, and perhaps even windows. There might have even been a quartet nervously proceeding down the road, but she decided that was probably somepony in that general direction who'd just left a window open.
"No," the minotaur finally said. Back to a normal speaking level, at least for now, and his hands were beginning to relax. "Maybe that wasn't what you were going for, at least verbally. Afraid, that could have been it. Scared, sure. But broken was somewhere in there, at least for your mind. Princess, I know what you want to do. I can't be mad at you for that, and -- I'm not, whether you wanna believe it or not. But I've been charging around for hours, following your trail, seeing all the little refractors who dropped in your wake. I know you hate that, I know you're trying to stop it, and that's what all this is supposed to be about. But you made the wrong decision, and you're following up on bad with worse."
"I'm their Princess." It was the only protest she seemed to have. "I have to be the one who --"
And he cut her off. With a raised hand, a snort, and a stomp of his left hoof.
"Yeah, maybe it could happen that way," he shrugged. "One pony says something and nothing happens, so all the others feel they could try to speak. Or... they figure that pony's working with you. Being a, I'm pretty sure you're familiar with the term, stalking horse. They don't talk, they read off a script, and the boldest ones, they'll see it and talk -- and that's how we identify and get rid of the boldest, ain't it?"
The gasp went into her wings, straightened her tail. "I -- I wouldn't! He would have, but --"
"-- they don't know! But it's what they're thinking about, Princess! Because they were slaves, they were slaves up until two moons ago, and slaves learn every trick the masters have to find the ones who might rally the rest into trying for freedom! Sombra was pretty damn good at what he did, wasn't he? Held off the other two, even beat them back if you believe some of the oldest stories, forced a thousand-year stalemate because there was a chance that when he showed up again, he wouldn't have to worry about them any more. One Tartarus-freed expert at being a dictator, along with being a bucking master. They've got a lot of reasons to be afraid, Princess, and yeah, they're putting it on you. He ain't around, so it's going to you, isn't it? And you don't want that, because you aren't him. But they can't see it, and they can't hear it, because you talked yesterday and do you know what those words were?"
Her wings flapped, brought her up to his eye level and maintained the hover. "They were freedom! To speak! The most fundamental freedom, the deepest right there is!"
He was staring at her again. She did her best to give it right back, and found it more difficult than she ever could have imagined.
"This is kind of a longshot here," and the tone was conversational. "But hey, there's a chance, so why not? So -- you ever met a mare named Fluttershy? Yellow fur, pink mane, three butterflies on each flank, probably a really pretty pony if you've got the eyes to see that sort of thing and I can't get the hang of it full-time, name's kind of what you might call indicative of her personality, at least what I got to see of it --"
She blinked. "Fluttershy? How do you know --"
It got a deep, bitter laugh out of him. "Seriously? Small continent we've got here, huh? No matter what the geography tries to say. But I know she's never told you about me, because you didn't know me at all in the garden. So... she's the pony I had to give a refund to. Because she showed up at my little session, listened to my words, and -- she took the wrong thing from it. One thing, and just kept flying with it. Now, I've reworked my lecture since. Done what I could to keep it from happening again. And because I gave the wrong words to the wrong pony at exactly the wrong moment, and they were my words, part of what happened with her is my fault. I'm not gonna deny that. And I'm thinkin' the same thing happened with you."
Fluttershy -- attending an assertiveness training seminar? She had known the mare exactly long enough not to see it.
"But y'know something? I ain't taking the whole blame on that one." He spread his arms as his eyes rolled slightly: an injured air of deliberately false innocence. "Because yeah, it was my words that triggered her mistake. But she's the one who kept making it. I talked to some ponies on my way out of town, I told you that yesterday. They said her friends were trying to warn her. Trying to pull her back. But she had her words, even if they started as mine, and they just kept going around and around in her head because she'd convinced herself they were the only solution. Taking up more and more space until there was pretty much nothing else left. My fault for giving her something bad she could listen to -- but hers for not listening to anypony else. And I rework my material, come all the way into the North to do my good deed for a lifetime, and guess what?"
He leaned closer. His voice dropped. The oddly-silly tie fell away from his broad chest.
"The Ancients felt like doing a little goring today, because the first part happens again!"
She wanted to pull back. She would not.
"I heard what you said, yes," Cadance told him. "And I found some inspiration in it, because you're right. They were slaves, and in their hearts, they still are. But if I just find that one pony --"
"And now we've got the second part!"
Those couldn't be hoofsteps, could they? Perhaps his own two were just tapping, so fast and so close...
"You listened to me once, and you got the wrong words, somehow," he snorted with frustration. "Plus those words are all you wanna hear. But you listened to me once -- so let's go for twice and see if something else sinks in. Princess -- Cadance -- you tried to solve a problem with the problem. You gave them an --"
And from well below both their eye levels, "...Princess?"
They both glanced down.
Cadance had never seen Lapis trembling so fast, and that was being compared against a depressingly large collection of experience. The blue coat was breaking up light in vibrating waves, sending assaults of fearful prisms into the water. "It's... it's going on three now... the Cabinet... your budget meeting... I had to... I'm sorry, I am, but I..." She risked the briefest of glances at the other party. "...um... I know that if you want to speak to... to... that's your choice, and I don't want to make it seem like I would ever... or interrupt... but it's nearly three, and the Cabinet... they...
"Lapis..." There were no words which would calm the little secretary. There never were. And yet she still tried. "...you did the right thing in coming out to find me. The budget meeting is important." Because there was a chance that her one brave pony was there, although that required a wince hard enough to let the force shove aside a lot of prior sessions. And as far as interruptions went...
"Mr. Will?" Cadance continued. "You may have noticed my having spoken to you. Face to face. Eye to eye. With both eyes. And that, along with several other, more physical clues, might suggest that I'm not Fluttershy. Now if you truly want to pick up this discussion later, feel free to drop by the palace. We may have dinner. In fact, we might start having it up to nine times. For now, I have a budget meeting to attend. One where I'm hoping my Cabinet will be honest with me, and criticize the proposals. Lapis, I'm going to put you in a field bubble and fly you back with me: it'll be quicker, please don't be afraid of it. Good day, Mr. Will. Until we can call it a good evening --"
"-- what are you so afraid of?"
The words had been oddly soft, as gentle as her own, far too careful to have emerged from such a rough body...
The question went in. It went deep. And it landed in a place where if she was very lucky, she would never have to think about it again.
"--or you could just get on the train. Your choice, really. Please don't forget to submit your invoice. Good day, Mr. Will."
She took Lapis into her field, blue on blue, trying to ignore the soft gasp. Got a little altitude, turned towards the castle...
The minotaur spoke, one last time. She mostly ignored it, and flew.
"...Princess?"
"What is it, Lapis?" There was no point in confronting her about having spoken without criticism, either, although Cadance supposed somepony could have said something about the lack of attention to detail in nearly missing the crucial meeting.
"...he... he just..."
She waited.
"...you heard him... didn't you?"
"Yes," she calmly said, and dodged a thermal.
"...he just said you were being stupid..."
"I know."
"...and you just... you..." She heard the little mare swallow. "...the Cabinet meeting... you're..."
"We'll get there on time."
"...you're not going to like this..."
[/hr]
The light reflected off the conference table, scattered throughout the meeting room without hitting a single refractive coat.
"So they're all sick," Cadence repeated. The words were calm. They had to be.
"...that's what they said. And that they'd be happy... to try and reach a make-up meeting tomorrow... or even late tonight..."
Let me guess. Steadily, "After nine?"
"...but they didn't want to get you sick."
The twelve-hour crystal flu. There could have been a medical journal article in that, if the disease had just actually existed.
"One pony," Cadance evenly said. And that pony hadn't been in her own Cabinet.
"...Princess? Is there... one pony you want me to... summon?"
"No," Cadance said, and tried to keep the weight out of her words. "Not a one." Because they won't come to me of their own will, and they're afraid when I come to them, when it's one on one, when they don't have numbers or any way to support each other, when the one who might speak is isolated...
No. I'm not beaten yet. Sombra's not going to win. Because there's the strength of one, and there's so little of that left, after everything he did --
-- but there's another kind of pony strength...
[/hr]
She looked at the Ear, and desperately hoped it would be for the last time. Reared up, brought both forehooves down on it.
"I'm sorry, everypony," an entire Empire announced on her behalf, "because I know this is going to disrupt everypony's evenings, and dinners, and the late work shifts, and -- everything. But this is an emergency, and that means I have to issue one more..." The words seemed oddly bitter in her mouth. "...Princess Decree."
The roads took a deep breath.
"Everypony in the capital is to gather in front of the palace by seven tonight. Everypony."
A long pause.
"The first Decree will still be in effect."
She dropped back to floor level, and waited for the last scream to fade away. It seemed to take far longer than it should.
And now...
...now, it'll be the herd.