Day 22: Cape Harness
Zebraria bloomed in a thousand colors. Bright tribal runes and signs of good fortune had been painted on every wall and over every door. The streets were paved with pastel stones, each one hoof-fitted into place and worn by the centuries. Banners hung from every archway, depicting the veldt, or Equestria, or whimsical images of magical creatures at play. Even the jacaranda trees that lined the streets had come into bloom just in time for Twilight’s arrival, and clouds of pink petals filled the air, curling and dancing on every breath of wind.
They could see it all from the Palace of Shadows. The throne room sat atop its highest floor, roofed only in open stone archways with nothing between them. It watched the whole of the capital, and it bathed in the sunlight, its edges lined with sparkling gold and its throne anointed with gems that caught the beams and shone. A carpet of petals swirled under Twilight’s hooves as she approached the dais and bowed her head low before the old zebra there.
“I greet you, Kuishia of the Open Sea,” she began in a deep, solemn tone, “Ruler of All Zebra, King of the Pwani Tribes, Master of Rivers, Protector of the Veldt, He who conquered the Jungle, and the Far Lands, and the Sky Tribes. I come in the name of She Who Is the Tyrant Star, and bring you her goodwill, and her gifts, and her friendship, and my own.”
“Rise, Twilight Sparkle,” replied the old zebra. He was as bedazzled as his palace, clad in a silk robe of emerald blue, with a fiery red half-cape tossed over one shoulder. His mohawk mane was colored with bright paints, and an expansive collection of jeweled anklets rested over all four of his hooves. So naturally did he fit into the space that it almost seemed he was a part of the room, and atop his head rested a heavy crown of gold.
Twilight rose, and he spoke again, his voice softer and less formal. “Please. Be welcome in my lands. I accept your friendship, and offer my own in return. Long has Celestia been a friend to the zebra; may your reign be as bountiful and as just.”
Spike kept his expression carefully neutral, but he couldn't help but flick his eyes to see the smile playing across Twilight’s face. She blushed, just a little, and the old zebra smiled back at her. “It’s been a long time since a diplomat looked that happy to see me. I’d forgotten how relentlessly friendly you Equestrians are.”
“I’m…” Twilight blushed hotter, and her ears folded back. “Just excited to see Zebraria. Your country has a fascinating history, and I know a zebra named Zecora who’s taught me so much about your magical traditions. And it’s…” Her hoof brushed the floor. “You know. My first major role as a princess.”
He chuckled, though a coughing fit interrupted his laughter. A servant quickly appeared beside the throne, but the king waved him away, forcing the fit to subside on its own. “I know,” he said, voice still rough. “Don’t worry. I had considerably less grace a year after I put on the crown. You’re taking to the role quite well, if the opinion of an old zebra counts for anything.”
It seemed that it did, for Twilight’s expression perked up a bit. Before she could reply, though, the king continued, “Have you met my daughter, Kifo?”
He gestured, and another zebra appeared beside his throne. She was young—younger than Twilight even—and her short frame hardly made one think of royalty. She wore no crown, no golden attire, no decoration of any kind save a set of practical steel horseshoes. Her cutie mark was a stylized spinning wheel, and she looked more like a young craftszebra than a ruler, but there was something about how she walked. She moved with quick, decisive steps. She looked Twilight in the eye, her own straight back and raised head in sharp contrast to Twilight’s nervous smile.
“Oh, uh… hi!” Twilight pulled back a few degrees, staring at Kifo with uncertain eyes. But the young zebra offered her hoof in the Equestrian style, and the two shook gently. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“And you as well,” Kifo replied. Her tone was light, friendly, with much less of an accent than her father. “I’ve always wanted to meet an Equestrian princess. I once attended Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns for half a term, studying Equestrian magic as part of my journeyman’s education, but I don’t think we ever met.”
“Oh. Really?” Twilight’s ears perked up. “I didn’t know that zebra studied unicorn magic. I’d always assume that hoof-based magic was a variant on Equestrian earth… uh…” She cleared her throat and looked at the king.
“No no,” King Kuishia said lightly, pausing a moment to cough into his sleeve. “Please, go. The time I could keep up with young intellectuals is long past.” His tone was warm, and he waved them off, leaving his leg on the rest instead of returning it to the chair. “I’m afraid that there are several vital affairs of state that will keep me busy this evening, so if you don’t mind, I’ve asked Kifo to keep you company. She shares your love of magic, and knows our kingdom like the underside of her own hooves. I’m sure you two will get along quite well.”
“Oh, uh… yes. Thank you, your Highness.” Twilight bowed once more for good measure. “May we…?”
“Of course. Go. Enjoy my kingdom.” King Kuishia waved them away. Twilight and Kifo turned to go, walking out through the glorious rain of color into the palace below. They struck up a conversation almost at once, with Twilight making inquiries as to what Kifo had studied. Spike followed them, a respectful distance behind Twilight, but he paused when he came to the stairs down. There in the doorway, he hesitated, and he looked back at King Kuishia.
“Something else you needed, young dragon?” Kuishia called, and Spike froze to the spot, one hand graced on the doorframe. He held that pose for several long moments more as Twilight and Kifo’s voices gradually grew more distant down the steps. Then he removed his hand and stepped away, moving back into the throne room and all its colors. King Kuishia still sat there, bathed in light, staring out through the open archways at the capital below.
“Uh… your Highness.” Spike bowed low, but his pose was stiff. “Please, forgive me. I’m not much of a diplomat. I’m not a diplomat at all, actually. I’m just Twilight’s assistant. But…” He cleared his throat. “Are you okay?”
The king eyed Spike for a long moment, then let out a snort of breath. “No.” He said plainly. “I’m dying.”
Spike didn’t know what to say to that. So he stood there, and said nothing at all. The king gestured, and a servant came to remove his robe. When he lifted his leg from the rest, Spike could see that the spot where he’d coughed into it was splattered with blood, the folds of the robe having only just concealed it. “I’d appreciate it,” he said, “if you would not tell Twilight. This is her and Kifo’s only chance to bond as friends, before dreary affairs of state force them to sit on opposite sides of the table. I don’t want their time together ruined by useless fussing.”
Spike still didn’t say anything, staring down at his feet. And so the old zebra patted the edge of his throne. “Come here, young dragon.”
Spike did as he was told, and sat by the old zebra’s side. Spike hadn’t quite appreciated how old he was from the court floor. His elaborate clothing mostly concealed his appearance. The robe had hidden the wrinkles in his skin, and the dye in his mane concealed how much of it had fallen out. His face was lined by more creases than stripes, and what stripes he had were closer to grey than black. He did have a cutie mark, but it had faded so far, Spike couldn't make it out. A spear, perhaps. Or maybe a rod.
“Do you know your omens?” he asked Spike, quiet and calm. So close, Spike could hear that his breathing was labored. “Divination magic? Augury?” Spike shook his head. “No, of course not. Forgive me, I know it is something of a rarity in Equestria. But here it is something we all must know. Magic is everywhere, and the slightest of creatures can warn of the greatest of circumstances.”
He picked up a hooffull of the swirling petals on the floor, and offered them to Spike. “Jacaranda trees signify many things: birth, growth, the coming of spring. It is a good thing when they bloom, and they have a particular affinity for royalty. The trees in the palace bloomed the day I was born, and again on the day Kifo was born. And now every tree in the nation is blooming at once. It’s an omen on a spectacular scale.”
He smiled gently, and let Spike take the pedals from his hoof. “But observe. They’ve only bloomed a day ago, and already their petals are falling off in droves. The trees are sick. Soon they will be bare.” Spike looked down at what he’d been given, the petals pink and curled, rustling in his fingers as the wind stirred around them. “Do you know what that is an omen for, young dragon? When petals fall from a flower.”
“Death,” Spike answered, his voice as quiet as the king’s. He didn’t look up, but sat stiffly, and stared down at the petals, like if he stared hard enough he might be transported away from where he sat.
“Endings,” the king corrected him. “Which can certainly include death. But I don’t need the trees to tell me that night fevers and coughing up blood is a bad sign.” He let out a weak chuckle. “And in any case, I’m not that important. The trees in the palace have always cared for me, but the ones in the city never liked me enough to pay me much mind.”
Spike continued to stare at the petals in his hand, and it was only after a long moment he worked up the nerve to lift his head and meet the old king’s eyes. “What does it mean, then?” he asked, a little of the strength coming back to his voice.
“End of an era,” he said, struggling for a moment to breathe. A brief cough wracked him, and when he spoke again, he sounded tired. “My rule has been very long, little dragon. My friends are gone. I am the last piece of the world I grew up in. And when I go, it all goes with me.”
Spike’s jaw opened and shut, and he struggled for words. “I’m sorry,” he finally said.
“Why?” King Kuishia asked, glancing over at Spike. Then he rolled his eyes. “No, nevermind. I forgot you’re Equestrian. Your immortal princesses spoil you.” He let out a little sigh. “Out here, rulers die. It’s why we have heirs.”
“It’s still sad,” Spike said, brushing two of the petals together between his fingers. They were smooth, and soft, with that gentle waxiness of a healthy leaf.
“It’s life.” He actually laughed. “Come now. I was a fine ruler in my day, no mistake. But even if I could, do you really think my zebras want me to cling to life for another forty years? Doddering about on the throne and telling stories about their great-grandparents?”
Spike didn’t answer, and after a moment, the king lifted his crown from his head. “Here,” he said, handing it to Spike. “What do you think of it?”
“The crown?” Spike stared at it, only gradually taking it where it was offered. It was deceptively heavy, gold all the way through, its ornate edges depicting ships and waves and great zebra warriors at sea. “I don’t know.” His voice strained and his tone rose, the tension in his body showing itself. “I mean it’s… it’s pretty, I guess. Why?”
The king smiled and took it back, giving a small shake of his head. “She’s not going to wear it.”
“You mean, Kifo?” Spike blinked, uncertain. “Why not?”
“Because it’s a relic of the past,” he said, gesturing out to the city all around them. “The crown belongs to the Pwani Tribes. Once, that was all our family was. Rulers of a little strip of land on the coast. Until my grandmother raised an army, marched inland, and became the Master of Rivers, the Protector of the Veldt, she who conquered the Jungle, and the Far Lands, and the Sky Tribes. All titles I inherited from her, through my mother.”
He let out a distant mutter, and his eyes went out to the horizon. “But when I took the crown, there were still zebra alive who remembered my grandmother’s hooves on their necks.” His words remained friendly, even conversational. “I’ve spent fifty years trying to heal the wounds she inflicted. And now, the inland tribes don’t think of themselves as conquered. They’re our neighbors. They look Pwani in the eye and treat them as equals and aren’t afraid of being whipped for it. And so, Kifo doesn’t think it’s right that their ruler should play favorites.”
He glanced at Spike, and indicated his red half-cloak. “She’s going to keep the shoulder cape. That’s the one that signifies Ruler of all Zebra. But even that’s going to change. Empress of Zebraria. Like her Orlovian friends.”
“Isn’t…” Spike hesitated. “I mean, isn’t that a good thing, though? You tried to bring all the zebra together, and you did. She’s building on what you started.”
“It is!” he said, and for a moment, his tone was almost mischievous. “But how would you feel if Celestia abdicated the title of ‘pony princess’ and insisted that she was ‘Queen of Equestria?’ If she started calling you ‘my subjects’ instead of ‘my little ponies.’ There are creatures that live in Equestria that aren’t ponies, after all: diamond dogs and minotaurs and more changelings than you’ll admit.”
“That would…” Spike bit his lip, his tone strained. “I mean, that would be fine.”
“I’m sure it would be fine,” he agreed, words still light. “But that’s not what I asked. I asked how you’d feel.”
Spike wrapped his arms around himself and looked away into the throne room, with all its colors and swirling petals. “I’d feel weird. Bad, I guess. But what does that matter? Feelings don’t set national policy.”
“Forgive me, little dragon, but that is simply untrue.” His tone was solemn, and he shook his head, but it was with a lighter air he added, “Don’t worry though. Celestia has a leveler head than most. And I don’t think she’s going anywhere just yet.”
The two passed some time in silence, staring out at the city through the open arches. Cape Harness was a fine settlement. Neat rows of adobe buildings stretched as far as the eye could see, and the streets were wide and clean. The sea glittered past the harbor, and Spike could see vast fleets of merchant ships tied up there. Nearly all of them flew the Orlovian flag.
“Can I ask you something?” Spike asked. The king shrugged. “How are you so calm?”
“You have to think about these things, when you’re a king. From the day you take the crown, zebra are urging you to have children for the day they’ll take your place. It gives you a long time to consider what sort of legacy you’ll leave when the day finally comes.” He drew in a deep breath, and though his chest rattled, he seemed a bit better when he let it out. “It’s a shame Kifo never met her mother.”
Then he grew quiet again, and his head grew heavy, and he stared at the shadows on the floor.
“And of course,” he abruptly broke the silence, seeming to spring back to life out of his haze, “every zebra has the day they realize they’ve gotten old. That was about four years ago for me.” He chuckled, gesturing at himself as though to highlight some foolishness. “She was fourteen then. And she came to me and insisted we needed a division in the army trained for mountain combat. And I asked her why, since our domain has no mountains, and our only real enemy is Saddle Arabia, which is mostly desert. And she said we needed them to attack the griffons.”
He made a broad, sweeping gesture with a hoof, still smiling at some internal joke. “Which was a little odd, since we’ve always gotten along well with the griffons, they’re completely inoffensive, we have no territorial claims against them, and in any case, they’re half the world away. I assumed it was an excuse, to spend more time abroad with her friends from school. And I granted her request, because when you’re fourteen and the child of a king, training entire military units as an excuse to go skiing is a thing you do sometimes. And then there were zebras, with mountain picks and sleds and little military wool hats.”
He rubbed at his jaw, and his smile gradually faded. “Then, the ambassadors from the Water Palace and Tawantinsuyu came to me and offered their personal thanks for my reassurances of support. And there were gifts, and titles, and beautiful mares, and Orlovia offered to build us ten thousand miles of new railway in the veldt, and gave us three new steamships. That’s when I realized I didn’t understand how the world worked anymore.”
He tried to go on, but started hacking and coughing into his hoof. Spike reached over to help, but was sharply pushed away, and he could only watch as King Kuishia continued to wheeze. Blood splattered the floor and the base of his throne, and dots of it touched his white coat. At once, servants appeared as if out of nowhere to wipe it away, and just as fast, they were gone. Kuishia managed to stop the fit, drawing a weak, wheezing breath. He gestured, and another servant appeared with a cup of water, and he drank gently.
Spike waited until he was done, and then spoke with a clear voice: “Do you want to attack the griffons?”
“Hardly.” He snorted. “They’ve never done me any wrong. And even if they had, they’re barely worth conquering.”
“Then why don’t you put a stop to it?” Spike demanded, his voice growing louder. “Why don’t you give the ships back and tell them it was a skiing trip for your daughter and not some political message?”
“What good would it do?” He gave a helpless shrug. “I don’t like it, but I don’t like the railroads either. I don’t like the smoke, or the noise, or how there are zebras with funny accents in my court yelling at me about broken plumbing on the other side of the continent. But what can I do? Rip up the rails? Cut the telegraph cables? Chain the villagers in their huts and command them to appreciate the veldt the way we did?”
“That’s not even close to the same thing!” Spike snapped, not fully aware of just how loud he was getting.
King Kuishia considered Spike for a time, tilting his head. “Isn’t it?” he finally asked.
“Of course not!” His eyes narrowed, his tone firm. “A country doesn’t need to go to war.”
“A country doesn’t need rails.” Kuishia said, only the faintest note of reproach entering his words. “A country doesn’t need electricity. We got along just fine without them when I was young. But the zebra want to travel. They want to stay up late. They want imported coffee, and chocolate and all the other things that used to be exclusively for the royal court. That means we need coal, and coal means smog in the air, and grease in the water, and grime in the rain. Just like having an aggressive standing army means distrust, and intrigue, and spilled blood. But who am I to tell them no?”
“You’re their king!” Spike’s voice climbed to its peak, until he was shouting.
King Kuishia considered that for a moment, and then said simply: “Not for much longer.”
Spike looked down at the floor, and his little claws clenched, forming fists so tight it hurt. He had to force himself to relax them, opening and closing his fingers. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice unsteady.
“It’s alright. You’re hardly the first emissary to abuse his diplomatic immunity so he could yell at me.” King Kuishia waved it away, with his hoof and with his tone. It was like nothing had happened. “She does love it though. Kifo. She loves a country where her zebra can travel freely. She loves seeing the markets thrive. Every day she’s badgering me with numbers about literacy rates or public health. When we built the Tajiri Canal, she opened it by swimming in the locks. So she could be the first zebra to swim in the eastern and western oceans at once.”
He tapped his chest twice. “I raised my children, all of them, to know the difference between right and wrong. And I know Kifo loves her fellow zebra more than she loves whatever it is that lives in those numbers. But she wants this. And they want this. They all want…” He gestured out at the harbor. “They all want this world. Of railways and wires and steamships and little wool hats. The railway didn’t change Zebraria when we laid the tracks. It changed Zebraria by existing. And now we have to live with it.”
The king swirled his hoof, and a simple wood cup appeared in it. Though there was no glow, or other sign of magic, it filled itself before Spike’s eyes, the hot tea inside bubbling and letting off a pleasant scent.
After a moment, Spike took it, and sniffed the tea. The king’s eyes widened a little, and he pulled his head back, but then he chuckled and nodded. “Spent six years learning how to do that,” he said ruefully. “Because a king of shamans should be a shaman. These days, zebra just jam a shard of imperial crystal into the underside of the cup. Makes it so easy a foal could do it.”
One of the pink petals landed in the cup of tea, and both Spike and the king’s eyes darted down to it. Spike swirled it for a moment with the tip of a claw. “I think I get what you meant now,” he said slowly. “About omens.”
“It’s too bad we don’t have more time,” the king said, his mouth drawn out into a line. “It’s been so long since I had the chance to teach omen-reading to anyzebra. Or, any dragon. There’s an art to it, you know. It’s always guided me throughout my reign. It’s how I knew Kifo was going to be my heir.” He swallowed. “Though my friends were always better at it than me.”
Spike sipped the tea that the petal had fallen into, and with a soft inflection, said: “Even Celestia?”
The king looked back, and Spike looked him in the eye. “Because, I know pony magic never put much emphasis on divination. And I think if she could see the future, she’d get beaten up by changelings less.”
“Heh. That may be so,” he agreed, starting to turn away back to the city.
“Would you like to write her a letter?” Spike asked before King Kuishia could finish the motion, and he looked back. “I can send it to her right away with dragon magic. She’d get it instantly. I’m sure she’d love to hear from you.”
“Oh…” King Kuishia paused a moment, then waved the idea away. “I don’t know.” He spoke slowly. “I don’t know what I’d have to tell her.”
“You’re not the only one who doesn’t have many friends left, your Highness,” Spike said, adding, “I think she’d be happy to hear whatever you have to say.”
After a moment, the king nodded, and Spike pulled out his little quill and started to take dictation. It was just past noon, when he sent off the first letter, and he received a reply not half an hour later. He continued to write, to send, to receive and to read, as the sun worked its way across the sky. He listened to and wrote stories of politics, and intrigue, of shamans and spirits, and even some tales of the mares of the royal harem that were not quite suitable for his age. Eventually, it grew dark, and the king had to go join his council and his daughter, but with his last letter, he promised he’d write to her at the next morning.
Spike showed up at the very crack of dawn, quill and parchment in hand, but the Palace of Shadows was empty, and the petals had blown away.
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It's almost more of a spike story than a Twilight & Spike story. I do feel your building something for Spike and it's going to be awesome!
Hm. I'm surprised that you've not responded to my comment on the previous chapter. Did you miss it?
Well, anyway, on to the next one!
"it’s edges lined"
"its"?
"the dais, and bowed"
"dais and"?
"Ruler of All Zebra"
As in the previous chapter (which did contain a "zebras"), was that meant to be "Zebras"?
"to the zebra, may your"
"zebra; may"?
(Also, again, do you mean to use "zebras"?)
"Just excited see Zebraria"
"to see"?
"reply though"
"reply, though"?
"continued: “Have"
"continued, "Have"?
"craftszebra then a ruler"
"than"?
"Twilight pulled back a few degrees"
I'm not sure what this is meaning, I'm afraid. Is... Twilight moving her head back, with the angle measured between the back of her neck and her back?
"that zebra studied"
Again, "zebras"?
Though I am now thinking that it may perhaps have been the "zebras" in the previous chapter which was an error.
After reading further: Ah, but there's another "zebras" later in this chapter.
"always assume that hoof based magic"
"always assumed that hoof-based magic"?
"no.” King"
"no,” King"?
"one hand graced on the doorframe"
"placed"?
"No.” He said"
"No,” he said"?
"staring down at his hooves"
"feet"?
"from a flower."
"flower?"?
"taking it where it was offered"
I'm afraid that I'm not sure what you're meaning here; sorry.
"know,” his voice"
"know.” His voice"?
"Master of Rivers, the Protector of the Veldt, she who conquered the Jungle, and the Far Lands, and the Sky Tribes"
"Master of Rivers, Protector of the Veldt, She who conquered the Jungle, and the Far Lands, and the Sky Tribes"?
"there were still ponies alive"
"zebras"? Or were some of the conquered indeed ponies? If so, why are the conquered zebras not mentioned? Or were all of the conquered ponies?
"Ruler of all Zebra"
For plural form correction, if applicable, "Zebras"?
"all the zebra together"
As above, "zebras"?
"Equestria.’"
"Equestria?’"?
"diamond dogs and minotaurs and more changelings than you’ll admit"
And, you know, the odd dragon...
"himself, and looked"
"himself and looked"?
"air he added:"
"added,"?
"Nearly all of them flew the Orlovian flag."
So, let's see, big trading partners with Orlovia (who seem likely to be initially blamed for the death of Prince Chain Link, as I recall reading a certain other power was for a certain other assassination), their ruler is a sick old
manzebra (and I believe I detected some deliberate thematic mirroring between the splendor of his garb hiding his condition and the early-stated splendor of the palace of which he was described as a part)..."zebra are urging"
"zebras"?
"demanded, his growing louder"
"his voice growing"?
"rails.” Kuishia said"
"rails,” Kuishia"?
"the zebra want to travel"
"zebras"?
"Spike’s voice reached his peak, until he was shouting."
"voice climbed to a peak, until"? Not sure. That just sounds a bit odd to me, sorry.
"where her zebra can"
"zebras"?
(I've not marked the "zebras"; those, I think, would be pretty easy to search for yourself if they are indeed the ones in error, but "zebra" seems more likely to crop up in places you'd not want it changed if it's the plural you desire.)
"Canal, opened it"
"Canal, she opened"?
"her fellow zebra more"
"zebras"?
"appeared in his hoof"
"in it"?
"The king’s eyes widened a little, and he pulled his head back"
Hm. Some sort of faux pas to do what Spike just did, perhaps, the king's initial reaction to it swiftly but not entirely cleared by "This is a young foreigner who doesn't know"? If not, I'm not sure what that was.
"zebra just jam a"
"zebras"?
"the pedal had fallen"
"petal"?
"adding: “I think she’d"
"adding,"?
Yeah, after the end of the second-to-last paragraph, I thought that that might be next...
Well! Another excellent chapter for the readers, even if it may have been somewhat mixed for the characters. I continue to very much indeed enjoy this story. :)
Ah, another wonderful (if not sad) chapter. Quickly becoming a favorite story of mine this is :D
Excellent chapter
I've always liked zebras, and I'm curious to see how different people handle them in their stories and worldbuilding. This chapter did not disappoint!
Now I'm curious why it's called the Palace of Shadows, when the throne room seems designed to be bathed in the sun as much as possible.
7520080
80 Days, the game that revived the interest in the book and inspired these stories by different authors, has Passepartout as the PC, hence the story is told from Spike's POV.
#2016
edit:
Political snark aside, this is a really poignant chapter. Thank you for writing it.
7505015
Hey!
Just wanted to let you know, I saw this. I am on a teeny tiny chromebook right now, so I won't be able to actually correct the mistakes you spot until I get home Wednesday, but I always notice your posts. Just forgot to reply since i had it flagged to come back to later.
Spot on observation! That is actually the intended reason it's called the Palace of Shadows, even though it's positioned to always be in the sunlight. Rulership is a thing of secrets and lies, always concealing the truth from those you do not trust to posses it.
7513299
7520080
It's a Spike story, but Spike's relationship with Twilight is a huge part of who he is as a person, so their interactions get front-and-center stage quite a lot. Really glad to hear I pulled it off with this scene.
7520106
Wow, I did not think anyone would get that.
Yes. Spike sniffing at the tea uninvited is a faux pas, because it presumes the tea is being offered to him, and one does not make presumptions of a king if one wishes their head to remain attached. But after a moment of surprise, the King realized that Spike didn't know what he was doing, and let it slide.
7520192
7521006
mlpforums.com/uploads/post_images/sig-3906977.Rarity_happy_S4E13.png
This makes me happy!
7521409
Because rulership is a thing of secrets and lies, and ruler and shaman alike must know that it takes more than a sunny day to drive away darkness.
7522181
Too real! Too real!
Thanks, man. I really love the period of history 80 Days (and by extension, this) is based on. I tried hard to capture the spirit of the times.
7522457
Ah, no problem; thanks for letting me know you saw it, though. :)
I'm glad I happened to look down and see it, though, as FIMFiction neglected to notify me of your notification.
"Spot on observation!"
Thanks. :)
"That is actually the intended reason it's called the Palace of Shadows, even though it's positioned to always be in the sunlight. Rulership is a thing of secrets and lies, always concealing the truth from those you do not trust to posses it."
Ah, hm, that I did not get. Makes sense, though, I think. Is that also the in-universe reason? I didn't pay much attention to the name, I'm afraid, mildly interested but thinking that there were a great many unproblematic possibilities. At the most basic level, the more parts of the palace there are in the sun, the more parts there are to cast shadows.
Thanks for the information. :)
7522470
Oh, very pleased I did, then. :)
I also like that you put a detail like that in even though you expected no one to notice. :)
(And while it's pretty much what I was thinking, thanks for the elaboration.)
Great chapter. The Zebras not-so-subtly suggest that a change in leadership is required for a country to keep improving.
My prediction: When Twilight gets back to Equestria, having learned so much about the modern world, that's when Celestia tells Twilight she is either dying, or just abdicating her throne to Twilight.
Son, I'm cry ;_;
Also, she's "Kifu" at one point.
So much world to be learned. So much life to be lived through others that have lived it before him. So much innocence to lose. This is clearly more of a Spike story than anything else, and I'm loving every moment of it.
This is phrased a little awkwardly, as you say <eye, her own straight back> as if describing the zebra's eyes or gaze first (like "staring straight back at her"). A small change would make it read better, like reversing the descriptors (i.e. <her own raised head and straight back>).
There's that word again, and I'm not sure whether I think it fits well enough, or whether the "humanity" of the word should be removed.
This is the first of a lot of instances where I can tell you're using "zebra" as a plural, like using "man" to mean "people", but at some points, like here, it makes the phrasing feel wrong.
Assumed.
I'm not entirely sure if this is actually incorrect, but I'm used to <one hand graced the dooway> or <gracing> without the <on>. Perhaps <placed on> would work just as well here instead?
That second line should also end in a question mark.
This could read better as <with his hoof as well as his tone>.
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But damn if you didn't get me to tear up by the end of this chapter. King Kuishia is such a compelling character -- a ruler who has had his fill of ruling, who knows what it takes to lead and how strong both he and his daughter need to be, for their people, and for themselves. You manage to pack so much character into his actions as well as his dialogue that I couldn't help but become attached, to the point that his inevitable passing at the end of the chapter hit me harder than I expected it to. But, then again, I am a proud member of the Kleenex Club, so maybe I should have seen it coming.
Season 9 premiere:
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I intend to write a more thorough comment once I've read the whole story, but I'd like to say I'm really, genuinely liking it thus far, even with some minor gripes. The one I keep coming back to in this chapter, for all its sagely feeling and genuine wisdom, is that the king seems to have given up. Unless I'm missing something, he's still the king, he still has power, but he's willing to let some embers potentially spark into fires because his time is running short, and his sole justification is basically "it won't matter". It's a very grim note to end your reign on, to me.
Only reading through the comments did I pick up on some subtleties you included. At first, I somehow thought Spike was talking about Celestia in the sense that she wasn't making as many friends. Only now do I realise that they've both outlived many of them, and that's what he meant. The tea as well, and Spike's presumption to smell it. It's the sort of thing I sometimes try to put in my works as an author, but I don't seem to notice it so much while reading. I get the feeling I should remedy that pretty soon, if the rest of the story keeps this up.
This chapter hit me unusually hard.
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Thank you! It's my favorite chapter of the whole story.
I thought her name was Kifo.
Also, I didn't leave comments on the last several chapters because I was enjoying myself too much to stop and quote things along the way. I love the characterization of Spike in this one, and how much it focuses on him. I'd like to see more of Twilight, but I think we'll probably get there at some point, and I'm patient.
This story feels like a series of nice little vignettes, and I like the feeling of that. Obviously that shouldn't surprise me, given the source material, but I've liked all the side characters so far, and they all feel like real people. I'm glad I took the time to start reading this one.
Oooh, this one was very different. And, huh, Spike really was shouting in the old man king's face in his own courtroom. Bold move. But the offer to write to Celestia was a lovely one. Any thoughts on roughly which region of Africa this is sort of styled around? I was thinking Tanzania, but mostly because 'Zebrica' makes me think of Zanzibar.
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It's a mish-mash of several East African nations. Any of the coastal nations that didn't get directly colonized, and so found cause to ally with the European powers that were against England and France.