Through A Glass Darkly

by SpaceCommie


Mine Is The Sunlight

“The strategy, the vision, the plan for the future!” Cadence muttered underneath her breath, shuffling through a stack of memoranda while neatly sidestepping one Ms Accounts Receivable. “Oh, hello, Reesy.”

Cadence had gotten enough of pomp and circumstance in her old job. No need for formality now. And it made her feel better to have everyone stop looking at her with such awe.

“Oh, good morning, Cadence!” the mare said.

The clocks had already struck sixteen, and Celestia only — come to think of it, not even her — knew what time it was supposed to be based on the position of the sun, but that wasn’t the point of the greeting. It was one of the little changes Cadence had suggested since ending up here, a reminder of what they were fighting for. Coming up with that sort of thing was a welcome relief from juggling the hundred different things that came across her desk — well, Shiny’s desk, for all that counted — every night.

They were running low on kerosene with no apparent explanation; lamps had, if anything, been less in demand as the sols tried to make as much use of the thin sunlight as they could.

The Diamond Dogs who had smuggled in the last shipment of guns were still refusing to leave on account of the lockdown, and there had been a few altercations between them and some of the more traditionalist among the sols over the meat the dogs had carried with them from the dayside.

The physical embodiment of the sun (a subject of myth and prophecy for untold centuries) and her husband were shouting at each other.

“I am not the bad guy here! She killed those ponies. Not me!”

“Those deaths could have been prevented.”

“This is a war! Casualties happen.”

“Of tens of thousands of innocents?”

“Nobody living in Canterlot is innocent,” Shining said, his voice dangerously low. “They’re a lot of collaborators and traitors selling out their own people for apartments and better food.”

Cadence poked her head into the room. “Oh, hello there, honey. Anything your favorite collaborationist can do for you while you’re busy?”

Shining scowled. “That was different for you, and you know it.”

“They didn’t make the system, Shiny — “

“They just keep the machinery of oppression running. They’re complicit as anyone else.”

“Maybe they don’t see themselves that way. I didn’t.”

Celestia coughed. “Now is perhaps not the time for philosophy. The fact remains that you lied to me, Shining Armor.”

Shining glanced at his wife, and shrugged. “I didn’t want you to worry.”

“Ah,” Cadence said. “A classic.”

“Sun in the sky, I thought one alicorn was bad enough,” Shining Armor says.

“Aren’t you a charmer.”

“As for myself,” Celestia said, “I would go to contest my sister, come what may, if it were not for your insistence that I stay.”

“Then go! We were doing fine without you!” Shining shouted, pointing at the door. “If you don’t want to help, then you can leave.”

Silence hung in the air.

“Shining Armor,” Cadence said, “I hope you don’t take it too personally when I tell you that this is absolutely insane.”

“No, why would I?” Shining asked. “Oh. You think you can do my job better than me. Right.”

What job?’ Cadence almost said. Almost.

But Celestia spoke first. “Shining Armor, you are relieved.”

Shining gawped. “What?”

“You are relieved,” Celestia repeated. “I discharge you from your duties to me and to this cause.”

“You can’t do that!” Shining objected, then paused and turned to Cadence. “Can she?”

Cadence bobbed her head in a noncommittal sort of way. “Technically, she has always been the true leader of this organization. You were the regent, remember? We drafted a constitution a couple of years ago.”

“I said it was a bad idea then, too.”

“But agreed to abide by it.”

“I didn’t expect that the Sun would have such a profound misunderstanding of the conflict we’re engaged in,” Shining said.

“None has said that you cannot speak prettily about it,” Celestia said. “I hereby remove you from your post. A new regent will be appointed forthwith.”

“You’re making a mistake, princess,” Shining said. “I should have consulted you about Canterlot, I’ll admit, but — “

“Honey, can I stop you there for a minute?” Cadence asked. “Celestia, who did you have in mind as his replacement?”

Celestia smiled beatifically — a hard trick to learn, Cadence knew. She said, “I hope you would serve.”

Shining Armor slammed a hoof on his desk, his face working, and he was breathing heavily. But when he spoke, it was quiet. “I can’t believe this,” he said, and walked out of the room without even bothering to slam the door.


“Ouch!” Discord said. “My goodness, that was positively painful to watch."

Shining sat sullenly on his bed, staring at the wall. Discord waved a paw in front of him. “You are listening, aren't you? You know, I've always thought the most important thing in any relationship is communication. Why don’t we talk anymore?”

“I don’t like you very much,” Shining said.

“Whatever. Listen, I know a way to fix this, but you have to listen to me very carefully.”