Places of Power Within the Pony Wars

by Wings of Black Glass

The Lumahina Empire

There is a saying among the Ponies, “history is almost as old as Lumahina.” There is much truth to the statement. The city of Lumahina has been inhabited for so long that there are no records of when or how it was founded. Perhaps the story is written somewhere in an archive long forgotten, but no one knows for sure.

What is known is why the city was founded where it is. At the settlement’s heart stands an immense and extraordinary tree, hundreds of meters wide and high and ages-old uncounted. It has thrived for eons, growing steadily and strongly just as the Empire around it did. Hidden within the incredible trunk is a temple, a Nexus Temple. The energy within had sustained the tree since long before any Pony was there to see it. The founders of Lumahina knew the tree was valuable and unique and settled down around it.

Those who knew what to look for saw the Nexus’s magic and how it affected the tree and studied that power. Just as the tree drew eternal life from the Nexus, so too could the Pony spellcasters. In time they learned to duplicate the effect to some degree, extending their lives for decades or longer. Over the very long generations, they learned to refine and improve upon the magic until they could sustain life for as long as they so chose.

These were the first immortal monarchs of Lumahina. To their closest supporters, they gave the boon of prolonged life, often centuries, so they could serve and support for longer. When the eldest monarch grew tired of managing the growing Empire, he turned it over to his daughter and retired to a sprawling palace constructed in the very branches of the tree of souls. Many years later, she gave the crown to her son, and then he did the same. On and on down through the centuries this went.

It is by no accident that the rulers are known as Princes and Princesses. Those who left the details of the Empire to their heirs still commanded great respect and control of the magic that grants extended life. Often they would provide advice and suggestions to the ones who handled the day-to-day activity of the government. When these “suggestions” were not followed by the heirs, they were encouraged to change their minds by withholding the gift of longevity and immortality until they cooperated. By this means, the Immortal Council retained power throughout the centuries.

Although the immortality spells were closely guarded secrets, they were also used to reward highly valued servants and supporters. This resulted in an upper class of extremely long-lived aristocrats and wealthy merchant lords. Those beneath them on the social ladder had no means of upward mobility aside from trying to gain the attention of those above them. Even worse for those lower classes, most of them were unaware of the immortality magic in the first place. From their perspective, the upper class and nobility simply lived much longer or never died at all, as they always had.

The approach of “this is how it’s always been” was pervasive in the culture. For untold generations, the populace was watched over and ruled by the same figures. Rituals and festivals remained unchanged when they were overseen by the same people year after year after decade and century. Once the nation was old enough and its history firmly established, if someone wanted an answer to a question about the distant past, they could ask someone who was there. Change came slowly, if at all. After all, it’s always been this way; why would it be otherwise?

One consequence of such long life was that those with the power to gather wealth to themselves kept that wealth. The rich became more affluent, and as they rarely died, their wealth remained their wealth. Entire cities would fall under the control of a single individual who would determine what the citizens would do and pocket much of the resulting profit. They would then patronize individual families to provide specific services, which would pass these skills down to future generations. The result is that many lineages of woodworkers, artists, engineers, teachers, blacksmiths, servants, or any other trade can trace their origins many generations past, often to the same individual that still pays them.

Managing an entire city by one’s self is tiresome and time-consuming. Grain needed to be distributed, workers assigned to tasks, thousands of tons of stone and lumber needed to be hauled from one end of the Empire to the other. Most of the nobles found it too much work and assigned administrators to handle specific tasks or industries, patronizing this new administrative citizenry like any other skilled family. This new management caste quickly became indispensable, taking all the little details and jobs the aristocracy simply no longer cared about. Although few of them understand exactly how important they actually are, the Empire would crumble into anarchy overnight without them.

As the Empire expanded, the cities and settlements under its flag sent much material wealth back to the capital. The city is old now, probably the oldest continually settled location anywhere in the world, but it doesn’t look the part. Ancient buildings were torn down and replaced with better, larger, more spectacular ones. The immense economic power of the Empire, all flowing back to one point, has made it fabulously beautiful and elaborate. All the various noble and wealthy have long since built up homes and public works in marble and polished stone spires. Extensive private gardens and public parks filled with trees provide the illusion that much of the area is still forested. The city practically sparkles in the sunset light between the canopies.

Despite the staggering wealth inequality, there’s isn’t actually much of a slum district within the capital. Those without patrons quickly get pressed into service and sent somewhere else or have already been long established. Even those poor ordinary ponies live in relative comfort, their patronizing nobles having built them suitable accommodations generations ago. Sometimes this was out of altruism, but more often due to simply not wanting to have ugly buildings to look at and plenty of money to waste on it. It was not uncommon for some rich noble to mock another for not being rich enough to afford suitable housing for their servants and underlings, and they might improve those buildings out of spite against the one taunting them.

Because of the glamor of Lumahina, its many territories have long sought to emulate it. The incredibly ancient nobles have adopted the language it speaks, its preferred architectural style, and customs and rituals, down even to the settlements’ layout. They then encouraged the populace to take these traditions and take them up for themselves. The culture of the Lumahina spread like this all across the lands it claims. While there are undoubtedly regional variants, an ordinary citizen can travel from one end to the other and still feel comfortably familiar, assuming they can afford to make the journey.

In this way, the culture has, in many ways, remained static over a very long time relative to other nations and cultural groups. Outsiders sometimes think this has left the Lumahina a staid and stagnant people. The usual retort is that whatever culture they have come from is obviously unstable and chaotic, or it would be just as old. Lumahina commoners take great pride in being part of a society that has outlasted all others and created a magnificent city as the capital. The civilization is remarkably stable as a result of the very loyal populace.

Even though there is much wealth disparity, it would be a mistake to assume the typical Pony has a dismal and miserable life. Despite the low literacy rate, history and legends and myths are passed from generation to generation through a robust oral tradition. When not working, the commoners played at a series of sports or entertained themselves with music and song and dramatic performances in large amphitheaters. Several times per year, festivals are held to celebrate old traditions or essential dates, most significantly the Lumahina new year on the winter solstice. The most significant other festival celebrated the great tree, the only time of the year any of the royal immortals ever show themselves to the public.

An Empire as old and wealthy as the Lumahina has had many enemies over the centuries. Those nations surrounding the growing Empire were jealous of the wealth, power, and immortality of the Lumahina ruling Princes and Princesses. Invasions in the earlier years were not uncommon, but as the Empire grew, they became less frequent. A large and stable population also represents a large base of conscripts for a defensive army. Once the Empire was vast enough, it became a daunting proposition to even attempt an invasion. Perhaps even worse, one would also face generals who generations of experience and had defeated dozens of attacks already.

The modern Lumahina doesn’t have a large standing army; it doesn’t feel it needs one. The only continually active military forces are the guardian forces of the nobility. In places where there are local threats, such as monsters and on some of the borders, garrisons help maintain security. On the edges of the Empire stand several significant fortresses, representing the most prominent military force inside Lumahina. These fortresses are only kept at full strength during times of disruption in the nations on those borders.

But the Empire prefers to use its most significant advantage to outlast its foes. Time. The experienced generals prefer to avoid massive direct confrontations, harrowing invading armies, and ambushing their supply lines. This maintains their own forces and safely keeps them out of danger as well, violence being one of the only things that can end an immortal’s life. Eventually, the invading nation exhausts its supplies, wealth, and willingness to continue the invasion and withdraw. Aggressive leaders and foes eventually fall to internal forces of their own chaotic cultures or just old age and cease to be threats.

Despite the power they control, the Lumahina Empire does not expand quickly. The more lands a noble controls, the more work they have to spend maintaining and less time to enjoy themselves. These immortals also despise allowing additional immortals to their number. At this point, the Empire already contained enough land, population, and wealth to happily satiate the nobility and their tastes, and they have little desire to grow even larger. From time to time, the Immortal council allows a city on the edges to join the Empire. Sometimes the city or small nation asks to join; on other occasions, one is bequeathed in a will by a forward-thinking leader who wants to secure his people’s safety.

In recent centuries only one nation has posed a significant threat to the Empire, the expansionist Sunbound Kingdom. Although the Twilight Lands form an effective natural barrier between the two superpowers, many on both sides viewed the other as an existential threat. Fortunately, a wise administrator named Halo convinced his King to begin talks with the Lumahina Princess to ensure the two would not end up at war. His idea for a Conclave between the two gained support among the immortal council, and the two nations have maintained healthy discourse between them ever since. In recent years King Halo has begun drafting a permanent alliance treaty, securing peace between the two for time immemorial.

However, his plans were not to be. In an event now called the final Conclave, King Halo was assassinated, and an attempt was made to end Princess Midnight’s life in retaliation. The newly crowned Queen Solarflare was unwilling to return fully into peace talks, and communication broke down. Many of the immortals who had disparaged the Conclave from the start were now convinced it was a mistake to even try. They viewed the Sunbound Kingdom as just another upstart that would eventually fall apart and collapse, and that view gained popularity even among the commoners.

The exiled Princess Moonlight tried to warn them of what was coming, but they didn’t listen. For months the immortal council ignored the furious Sunbound monarch until they received spy reports of massive armies being mobilized. Having never faced a nation that could afford such a force and the will to see it done left them unprepared. They scrambled to being forming conscript armies to bolster what little they had already. A nation built on always having enough time suddenly found itself without time to spare. Only the Twilight Lands’ dramatic enchantment gave them enough reprieve to prepare and train soldiers to see this coming war through to the end.