6 - Selenite, Part I
4:32 - 22/03/995 - Fledermaus High School
I really wished it hadn't come to this.
As the students throughout the school's many corridors and hallways collected their things from their lockers and made their way outside, either flying or walking or catching a bus, I was standing outside Principal Electric's office. Not due to being called there, I hadn’t been. I was there by choice. I’d have rather been anywhere else, but this was all I had left with all other civil avenues exhausted.
Getting home after all the buses had left wasn’t my worry, home was within flying distance and I frequently stayed at school after the final bell for history club or for a nice quiet environment to get some homework done quickly. Having an empty classroom to myself or being in the library when it was only me and similarly mannered ponies provided an unparalleled environment for proper studying. The school was amazingly accommodating for that sort of thing.
My worry was in the ways it had just become much less accommodating.
Once I’d gathered my courage, I firmly, yet carefully, knocked on the door.
“Come in!” came the jovial, youthful voice of Principal Mind Electric.
I pushed the door open and entered. “Hello, Mr Electric,” I said, closing the door behind me.
His office was inviting, and at first glance a pony would have a hard time believing a high school principal worked there. The walls were painted with abstract patterns in varying intensities of warm orange, the checkered carpet part teal and part blue. The space was assorted with trendy decorations, including movie posters on the wall and statuettes of board game pieces on the various surfaces. It was complete with a large window on the wall behind him, giving a wide-reaching view of the school’s yard below and the brilliant night sky above.
Upon hearing my voice, he stopped reading whatever he had on his desk and his glance shot towards me. “Selenite?” he said, eyes wide. “What do you need? Is this about the new rules?”
A pegasus managing a school where nine out of ten students were thestrals, he was a strange but likeable pony. Still in his mid-thirties, his rose-coloured coat and short magenta mane displayed few signs of age. Tonight he was dressed in typical smart-casual clothing, a simple beige sweater over a white shirt with a pair of glasses resting on his snout. His wardrobe was rarely severe, and he wasn’t above wearing a dorky bowtie a lot of the time. It was easy to tell he was passionate about his job simply from the way he carried himself on a night-to-night basis, often smiling and offering a helping hoof to students. A pony in authority who’d want to lend such a hoof is what I’d have needed.
“You already know it,” I said, climbing up onto a chair in front of his desk. “Need I go over my reasoning again?”
He smiled. “I’m sure it wouldn’t hurt.”
Inching closer, I put my hooves on the desk. “The new rule forbidding thestral students from tail hanging during school and the removal of hanging bars is discriminatory, prejudiced, and infringes on basic aspects of our way of life. Resting by tail hanging comes as naturally to us as sitting on clouds comes for pegasi or using magic to carry out common tasks comes for unicorns, both of which are allowed. The stated reason for this new rule is student safety, but there have been no more instances of this practice causing harm to a student or harm to school property as unicorn magic use or pegasus cloud sitting, not even accounting for the proportion of students of each tribe. Given these facts and without an alternative explanation that addresses our concerns, I and the vast majority of other students politely request that this policy be reversed.”
The whole time I spoke his eyes and ears were locked forwards, sitting still. It was like our roles had been reversed. Once I was done, he spoke. “Well Selenite, I believe you and the rest of the student council already lodged a formal complaint, and I'm doing everything I can behind the scenes to address your concerns. What else is there to say?”
Hearing him invoke the student council of all things made my fangs grind. I had a seat on the student council as the representative of my grade, secured as I had the support of the school's history club. The club, armed with the lessons from successful and failed election campaigns of yesteryear, made a concerted effort to promote me to our peers and even got me elected council president. But all the council really did was hold a meeting every Wednesnight during recess, and the most consequential thing we did in those meetings was organised the annual prom. Every decision we made had to be approved by school authorities, every meeting was closely monitored, and every topic of discussion was strictly narrow. Earlier in the year the council member representing a class in the grade above mine was removed when they stopped showing up to meetings, and their replacement was so unengaged they might as well have not shown up themselves.
Needless to say, a statement from the council opposing the EEA's new diktat amounted to jack squat.
“That was a week ago Mr Electric, and all we got back was the same nonsense about student safety,” I barely tried to hide the resentment in my voice. “They’re not listening to a word we have to say.”
“Their word is final, Selenite,” he sighed. “I’m doing all the work I can to make sure they hear what you’re saying, but I can only do so much.”
My jaw was tensing, and I huffed out heavy breaths through my nostrils. “Could you tell me what you mean by ‘working behind the scenes’, Mr Electric?”
“I’m sorry, I’m not allowed to share that with a student,” he said.
“Well, from my perspective, I’m not seeing any results from your ‘work behind the scenes’,” I said, folding my hooves. “So, please tell me. What am I not seeing? Otherwise I’m left to assume that this work you’re doing amounts to nothing.”
After that he went quiet and still. Any signs of warmth faded from his face, eyebrows sinking and lips straightening. His eyes moved to the desk, and the piece of paper under his forehooves. Slowly, he pushed the paper towards me. “This is a letter from Superintendent Neighsay, Selenite. I-” a pause, “I shouldn’t be letting you see this. As an employee of the EEA I’m bound by certain confidentiality arrangements, but as your educator I feel it’s only right that you read it.”
Cocking my eyebrow at Principal Electric, I dragged the paper closer and spun it around. I picked it up and started to read.
Principal Mind Electric
I understand that you and some of the other faculty have concerns regarding how the Fledermaus High School student body may receive the new policies. I am writing to tell you that your worries are well founded, which is precisely why it is of utmost importance that this policy be implemented to the letter.
While it is unfortunate that students and parents have rejected the explanation of the policies being for student safety, this is of little concern and doesn’t change the fact that this sort of policy is needed. Bats have long lived segregated from the rest of Equestrian society and still hold delusions of equality with the three tribes, what they do not realise is that unless they throw away their vile superstitions, learn their place, and accept Equestrian society for what it is they will never have a place amongst ponies of the three tribes.
This matter is especially urgent as the year 1000 draws closer, considering how the bat religion (which, bizarrely, your school has an adjacent temple to) alleges that this date will herald the return of their wicked goddess. There is a real danger that members of your student body will be radicalised into extremist action as a result. Assuring that this race is kept in check is a matter of utmost national security.
As educators, we have a duty to not only teach facts and information, but the proper way to live and act civilized. When your students are overwhelmingly bats infested with such a dangerous ideology, this applies in your case especially. Should you fail to implement an EEA directive, either through incompetence or intentional inaction, I will have no choice but to find a pony more suitable for your job. I’m sure there are countless other ponies who realise the threat of Nightmarism more than you do.
I will travel to Fledermaus High School this coming Friday, the 25th of this month. As you are still operating at night time I will come then, around 10pm. I expect to see this policy fully in force when I arrive.
Signed,
Superintendent Neighsay
My anger boiled over as I read the letter. Once done I threw the page back onto the desk, and all pretences of civil courteousness had dropped from my glowering face.
“Assuring that this race is kept in check?” I flared, still in disbelief that the language would be that brazen. “Infested with a dangerous ideology? And this pony is our Superintendent?”
"You see what kind of asshole I'm dealing with here?” he groused, running his hooves through his mane. “Excuse me, I shouldn’t swear.”
I’d fallen back into my seat a little when he swore; I’d never seen him that upset before. Quickly, I recomposed myself, straightening my tie. “Has it not occurred to the Superintendent that this sort of policy will only further alienate thestral students?”
He groaned. “I've tried telling him that, but he won’t listen. He is obsessed with controlling and regulating anything he doesn’t see as ‘proper’. And if I don't go along, he'll kick me out and replace me with some hoofpicked dogmatic psychopath! What am I even supposed to do?”
I couldn’t think of anything to say.
“I know this policy is bogus,” he said, burying his face in his hooves. “I don’t want any part of it. I can’t ever truly understand what it’s like to be a thestral in Equestria, but I’ve worked my whole career at this school trying to make things the best I can for thestral students, even if it means reorganising my entire life. Sure, changing to daytime classes might work for me, but they won’t work for you and the other thousand thestrals at this school, nor will this policy or anything else that the EEA-”
“What's this about daytime classes?” I asked, feeling myself become more tense.
“That-” he paused. His mouth opened and his eyes widened as his gaze turned to empty space, then put a hoof to his forehead. He turned back towards me. “They’re planning to do that at the start of the next academic year.”
“What!?” I practically jumped out of my seat.
“I had the same reaction you’re having now,” he groaned.
Running a hoof through my mane I stammered whilst trying to form a sentence, until I broke out ranting. “What- what the hell do they think they’re doing!? Do they have no shame!? There’s not a parent or student in town who’ll stand for this, we plan everything around the night! Have you been around town during the day? Do any of these EEA meddlers know anything about Fledermaus? Stars, what’s next, are they just going to fire every thestral teacher?”
His mouth tightened shut at that last comment.
“They’re not going to stop until they think they can lord over us as their puny subjects. And-” I glared at him, “and you’re just letting it all happen?”
His mouth finally opened. “I don’t like it, but I have to go along with it.”
“And what are you going to do Frinight, when he comes here?” I asked, pulling my seat closer.
“Ideally? Try to change his mind one last time,” he frowned. “Realistically? Pray I’m not replaced with a yespony.”
Feeling deflated, I released a frustrated breath. I realised I could argue with him for hours, but I knew nothing would come of it. “I suppose there’s nothing else to discuss then?”
He shrugged. “I’m afraid not, sorry.”
“Right.” Abruptly I hopped out of the chair and rushed to the door, choosing not to say anything else. I yanked the door open and got halfway through.
“Oh, Selenite?” he called. “One more thing. Close the door please.”
I stopped and turned back into the office. As requested I shut the door once I’d stepped inside.
“I know I can’t stop you from telling others what I’ve told you, but please try to leave me out of it,” he said politely. “I’m already in the EEA’s bad graces, and if they knew I’d shown a student a letter from Neighsay, I’m done.”
I made an indistinct murmur and half nodded, then made my way out.
4:48 - 22/03/995 - Berzel Family Residence, Fledermaus
Home was only a ten-minute fly from school, and flying was my preferred way of getting around. There wasn’t a single bit of level terrain anywhere in Fledermaus owing to the fact it was built high up on sharp uneven mountainsides. Walking through the town was quite literally full of ups and downs, times where you’d be struggling to ascend a steep slope and times where you’d barely keep your footing descending a similarly steep slope, all within a space of time so short you’d barely realise. Owing to the elevation, it wasn’t uncommon for a cloud to settle on the town itself and shroud the streets in thick fog, as was happening that night. It was considerably easier to find where you wanted to go by flying, at least without the fog.
Our home didn’t look like much from the outside, given that it was partly built into the rocky mountainside. Every house on the street appeared similar, like the front of a normal large house had been shoved into the stone wall. Yet this concealed the surprisingly spacious dugout home on the inside, practically an artificial cave system furnished for ordinary living with most of the walls keeping the natural grey exposed-stone appearance.
Using my key, I opened the front door and entered. “Mom, Dad, I'm home!” I called out, shrugging off my backpack.
“Hey kid!” I heard my father cheerily call from another room.
“Hello dear!” I came my mother’s voice from the kitchen. “Just making dinner!”
I quickly made my way through the landing and into the kitchen and saw my mother peeling a butternut squash. Then a thestral mare in her mid-forties who was coloured purple all over, Mom was short when put next to the average mare but still a good bit taller than I was. I had to reach up a bit to hug her, even when she leaned down. She was working on the large island at the centre, which held the stove, fancy ventilation fans, and a great deal of space for meal prep. We had a dining room for special occasions, but eating in the kitchen was just more efficient.
“Is Poca home?” I asked upon entering.
Nodding with an affirmative “mmhm”, Mom pointed to the door. “He went straight to bed when he got home. I don't even think he changed out of his uniform.”
I snickered. Anypony who knew my brother knew he wasn't one who cared about looking presentable. Or sounding presentable. Or smelling presentable. There had been times when he'd gone whole weeks without a change of clothes, and if ponies didn't know his sister was the filly who consistently wore her uniform spotless and tidy, they'd assume he was from a family of paupers.
“How did it go with Mr Electric?” Mom asked, discarding the peeled squash skin into the trash.
I groaned whilst climbing up onto a stool by the island. “He says he doesn’t like the changes but he has to go along with them.”
“That’s expected,” Mom said. She started carefully chopping the squash into small cubes.
“And it gets worse,” I said. “Next year they’re moving everypony to daytime classes.”
A startling thud sounded through the kitchen as Mom slammed her knife through the squash and into the cutting board. “That’s unexpected,” Mom said, her face still calm. “Getting that brazen, are they?”
“You don’t know the half of it! He showed me this awful, racist letter he got from the Superintendent, straight up says he'll be fired if he doesn't implement the new rules,” I explained.
“Superintendent Neighsay?” Mum asked, preparing to peel some turnips.
“Yeah, him,” I said. “Do you know him?”
Mom groaned. “Not personally, thank Nightmare. One of the worst Celestials there is. What’s Electric doing about it?”
I rubbed the back of my neck. “I believe him when he says he's working hard behind the scenes, honestly. But the EEA's word is final. What else can he do?”
Mom scoffed. “Mr Electric's nice and all, but just look at how he's dealt with all of this. It makes him look spineless and unprincipled, pardon the pun. If he had any backbone, he'd make every effort to resist the changes and actually try to keep us in the loop and work with us. Appeal all the way up, drag his hooves on implementing the policies, simply not enforce any of it, find and exploit loopholes, leverage how liked he is with staff and students, hell, go on strike if need be, the list goes on. I’ve brought this all up to him at PTA meetings, and all he says is that he’s ‘exploring those options’. You and I both know what that means.”
“Well, yeah, I know,” I said, “but the poor guy could get fired if he doesn't do what the EEA says.”
“He should be prepared for that,” Mom said, making a pointing motion with her empty hoof. “If he doesn't stand firm when the going gets tough, what does he even stand for?”
“But wouldn’t it be better to have a sympathetic principal who actually listens to us rather than an EEA-imposed psycho?” I suggested.
“Honestly?” Mom frowned. “I’d rather have to deal with one who’s obviously an enemy compared to a false friend. They’d implement the same policies at the end of the day, one’s just more brazen about it,” she explained, with subtle gestures to accompany her words. “Imagine a chimaera, something that’s obviously dangerous. Big, snarling, out for your blood and they make sure you know it. You see that, fight-or-flight kicks in. But compare that to a cockatrice. A cockatrice tries to trick you, hides in the bushes so you can’t see its body, makes you think it’s just a poor little chicken lost in the jungle, and by the time you realise what it really is you’re already half made of stone.”
“Right,” I said. Mom was always a fan of detailed metaphors. It’s certainly something that rubbed off onto me. “What do we do then?” I asked, worry seeping in.
“Metaphorically, don’t fall for its stare. But literally-” Mum stopped abruptly, almost literally biting her tongue. She held her breath and glanced off to the side. Some quiet moments passed. Turning her gaze back to me, she breathed out. She ceased her silence and spoke clearly and calmly, her voice never wavering or stammering. “Since going through Mr Electric or the PTA’s a dead end, you and every other thestral have to act on your own initiative or you’ll get nowhere. Make a demonstration of protest, of defiance, something. Show the EEA we can’t be held down and force them to back off. The student body is overwhelmingly thestral, you can reach out to them. They’re probably just as angry as you are. Most teachers are thestrals too, and I know they want to do something about this sh- rubbish, actually want to do something. One or two I see at the Lunar Temple say they might resign over it. Plus, I know there are plenty of non-thestral teachers and students at the school who’d happily join up as allies. Their hooves can be forced through a collective act of resilience, and at this point, it’s the only option.”
Something always fascinated me about the way Mom spoke in such a matter-of-fact and lucid way about things that seemed so ambitious, sometimes dogmatic. She was often like this when giving amateur sermons at the local Lunar temple every Moonnight, taking a hardline position or announcing a bold call-to-action and making it sound like regular common sense.
“Say, what was on that letter from Neighsay, specifically?” Mom leaned in close with an inquisitive eyebrow up. “Sounds like something worth knowing.”
I recited the letter to Mum. Even though I’d only read it once, I’d remembered enough of it in broad detail to properly convey all the relevant information. I especially remembered the horrible racist language Neighsay used to describe thestrals, which I made no effort to conceal or downplay.
While I spoke Mom remained still and calm, yet I noticed her fangs were showing. “What a bastard,” she said once I’d finished.
“You don't look surprised,” I noted.
She shrugged. “I'm not. Neighsay's one of the worst, been known for years. It doesn't surprise me at all that's how he writes in private. Of course, they’d put a frothing hardliner in charge of your school district, we’re some of the most devout Lunarists in Equestria. Bastards won’t stop until we’re crushed into dirt,” she grumbled, her eyes had gone down to the chopping board and her cutting hoof was idle. Suddenly she raised her head and looked right at me. “What was that part about the year 1000, again?”
I recalled that specific paragraph and summarised it. “That they want our ‘race kept in check’ for the year 1000 in case any of us are ‘radicalised into extremist action’.”
Mom’s eyebrows shot up and the frown faded. “Really?” she said, a smile slowly forming along with a small laugh. “They’re afraid,” she chuckled, putting her kitchen knife safely to one side.
“You think?” I leaned towards Mom.
“Oh yes,” Mom grinned. “They know she’s coming back, they know she’ll galvanise us and lead us to victory, and they’re scrambling to do something about it,” she said, giving me a tender look. “Come here,” she held her front hooves out.
I hopped out of the stool and walked around the island so we could embrace each other, allowing ourselves a few moments to savour our familial closeness. I held her tightly, she softly cuddled me. A joyous smile on my face, a delicate warmth on hers.
“You are so lucky, Selenite,” she whispered. “In the prime of your youth, you will witness Her return. Countless generations before you dreamed of living to see such a night. Never forget that. Never stop being grateful for being born at the time you were.”
“I know, Mom,” I whispered back, smiling.
She pulled me in closer. “And when that night comes, all who have wronged us will know Her vengeance.”
I nodded my head, holding Mom close.
We held the hug for a few moments longer. After releasing each other, we shared a warm and hopeful smile. “I'll see you at dinner,” she said. “I love you, Selenite.”
“Love you too, Mom,” I said.
Mom continued to prepare dinner and I took the time to get some homework out of the way. Little else happened in the morning. At some point, I ran into Dad strumming a pleasant, mellow tune on one of his guitars, and we had a brief conversation regarding much the same sort of things I’d talked about with Mom. He'd brought some public attention to the EEA policies utilising his notoriety as a well-known musician, but that didn't amount to much more than a few headlines in one or two national newspapers. Not enough to sway the EEA at any rate. Later at dinner, a hearty vegetable stew, Mom and I relayed what we’d discussed to Dad and Poca in more detail and we even managed to fire Poca up a little. After dinner, I burned through a few chapters of a book I’d had my nose deep in for the last few nights, Leather Petal’s Discret Dynasty in Decay: Buildup to the Aquileian Revolution 971-980. Diligently taking notes of every important detail, I wondered what I could apply to my current situation.
It was getting light outside before I knew it, Mom and Dad were setting off for bed once I’d finally decided to put the book down, and I made my way up. Brushed my teeth, took off my uniform, had a quick shower, put my pajamas on, and was off to bed.
But sleep seemed so distant from me. I lay in bed completely still, struggling to keep my eyes closed and finding little comfort. I’d turn over and try to find a more sleep-worthy position to no avail. Groaning, I sat up. Directly across from where I slept was my bedroom window, the curtains still open as I noticed a fiery orange threatening to engulf the night sky and snuff out the stars.
Yet framed nearly perfectly at the centre of the window, I saw the Moon in all its graceful glory. I gasped, I swear it felt like the Mare in the Moon was looking right at me from all those thousands of miles away like She was expecting something out of me as She was dragged closer towards the horizon.
I crawled out of bed and stood by the window, gazing back at Her with my mouth hanging open. My window provided a great view of the whole town, but my focus was solely on the Moon. She knew of our struggle, her lunar gaze saw all that went on in the night. She’d led us before and She’d lead us again. She was just waiting for the word, for one of Her loyal subjects to reach out to Her.
Deeply bowing, back raised and head low with my forehooves together, I whispered a prayer.
Mare in the Moon.
Hear our pleas.
As your loyal subjects, we ask for your guidance.
We ask for guidance as we face our wicked foes.
While you are banished from us physically,
You guide us in spirit and in our dreams.
We beg of you for strength and courage.
Just as you stand by us we stand ready for you.
The hour draws nearer every night,
May you come to us under a banner of triumph,
And may you wield a sword of righteous vengeance.
Our salvation lies with you.
In the cursed days where you remain imprisoned,
I will make you proud.
And on the blessed night of your great return,
I will make you proud.
Until the night there are no more foes to vanquish,
I will make you proud.
Satisfied, I got up and closed the curtains before I returned to bed, allowing myself to gently glide into Her magnificent dreamscape.
17:01 - 6/04/1008 - Lunar Castle, Everfree Forest
A door clicked open, and another pony entered.
“Rarity!” Sweetie exclaimed, leaping from the sofa.
All eyes turned to the open door and the white unicorn mare who'd just entered. Dressed in a night maid's uniform which consisted of a sleeveless midnight-purple tailcoat over a smart blue shirt with an upturned collar, fully complete as her silky-smooth purple mane was up in an extremely tight bun. Her sapphire eyes displayed a noticeable weariness behind their elegant beauty.
“Sweetie Belle darling!” Rarity held her forehooves out as her little sister ran up to her, and the two shared a warm hug. “So nice to see a friendly face at the end of the work night!” Rarity said as she released Sweetie.
“Heya!” Moonatik popped through the door, following Rarity. “Uh, I’m here too!” he said, before quietly shuffling into the background.
Rarity then looked to the other ponies in the room, and her eyes went wide. “Warmaster Selenite? Mr Nightshade? My, what an unexpected delight!”
Sol and Selenite returned kind greetings.
“The Warmaster was telling us her cutie mark story!” Scootaloo said, waving to Rarity. “Hey, uh, Sweetie, Rarity, could we stay a little longer while she finishes?”
Rarity gave a shrug. “I don’t see why not. I don’t believe I’ve ever heard her story before. Selenite darling, could you perhaps summarise so far?” she said, leaning towards Selenite with a smile.
“Of course”, Selenite smiled. “This was back when I was in high school, 995, and the EEA were planning on bringing in a bunch of new anti-thestral rules. Banning upside-down hanging, banning Lunarist worship, forcing us to have class in the day-”
“Mmchm,” Apple Bloom loudly cleared her throat, interrupting Selenite. Everyone turned to Apple Bloom, her eyes were locked forward in a manner to deliberately dodge contact with anypony else.
“Something wrong, Apple Bloom?” Rarity asked.
Quickly noticing how she had become the centre of attention, Apple Bloom brought her head up and tried to think of something to say. “No, it’s just- um,” Apple Bloom mumbled. A moment of silence, and she sucked in a deep breath. Suddenly she snapped around towards Selenite, a hoof pointed at the Warmaster. “You said ya didn’t like how the EEA were makin’ rules for bat ponies that forced ‘em to live like other ponies, that’s the whole point of your story,” she said hastily, but clearly. “Y’all we’re bein’ made to live in a way that didn’t- uh, vibe with ya tribe… right? A-and y’all thought that was unfair?”
Selenite smirked. “Yes. It’s more than just unfair to-”
“So why are y’all forcin’ us to live in this eternal night?”
Aside from Apple Bloom’s heavy breaths, the chamber fell deadly silent.
“Well, um,” Selenite began, shuffling on the spot. She bit her lip and glanced to the side, her smile fading. “It's- It's not really our call to make. The sky, the sun and the moon, that's the domain of the Empress. If she wishes to paint the heavens with stars, aurora, and nebula against a brilliant backdrop of omnipresent ebon at all times, that’s her call. I have no say over that.”
“Oh, that's horseapples!” Apple Bloom spat back, prompting gasps from her friends and furrowed eyebrows from the adults. “Yer still servin’ her! Yer still enforcin’ her orders! How can ya say it ain’t got nothin’ to do with ya?”
“The hell does horseapples mean?” Sol murmured to Rarity.
Showing no concerns with Apple Bloom’s comment, Selenite continued to speak calmly. “I stand by the Empress and serve her faithfully because of everything she’s done for us. In war, she has led us to victory over those who would’ve destroyed everything we hold dear. In peace, she has guided us kindly and fairly-”
“Kindly and fairly!” Apple Bloom repeated in a mocking tone. “Y’all think anypony’s gonna buy- uh?” she stopped as she felt something tug on her leg. Scootaloo had shuffled next to her and was trying to grab her attention.
“Hey, AB,” Scootaloo said, presenting her friend with a cold scowl. “I wanna hear the story, could you not?”
“Seriously?” Apple Bloom pushed Scootaloo’s hoof away.
“Besides,” said Selenite, “we’ve done nothing to outlaw traditional earth pony, pegasus, or unicorn ways of living. Nopony’s being forced to eat mangoes or live in caves! Sol, has the Empire done anything to you that's made your life as a unicorn harder?"
“Hm, not in any way I can think of,” Sol said. “I lived in Manehattan when the Empress came back, and I have to admit it was a lot easier for me and my family to find good paying jobs after the rebellion. Plus, joining the Lunar Army led me to discover who I am.”
Giving Sol a smirk, Selenite turned towards Scootaloo. “And you, what's your name?”
“Scootaloo, Warmaster!” she shouted, sharply sitting up straight.
“Scootaloo,” said Selenite, “has your life as a pegasus changed for the worse?”
“Uhhhh,” uttered Scootaloo in a protracted manner, her eyes darting from pony to pony before settling back on Selenite. “No, Warmaster?”
Rarity then stepped forwards. “Might I add, while I personally might not have received, hm,” she tugged at her uniform, “the best deal out of all this Lunar business, after I’d heard all about what Equestria's thestrals have been through it is only right that the rest of us give them a fair chance! Oh, and having some real competition in town is honestly quite thrilling!” Rarity said, her eyelids twitching as she put on a broad smile.
Selenite raised her head, smirking with pride. “Our actions might seem strange sometimes, but they are all important steps to building an Equestria where ponies of all tribes can thrive together. The long road of progress is bound to have a few bumps.”
Apple Bloom released a quiet grumble. “Sure,” she said whilst tilting her head back. A great deal of stubborn earnestness ran in the Apple family and Apple Bloom was yet another expression of that. She knew Selenite’s hollow assurances were just that, and could think of a dozen examples of how she had been forced to live a way alien to her. But with the deck stacked against her, she knew it best to keep her thoughts to herself, even if this was a unique opportunity to confront one of Nightmare Moon’s number-one minions.
“Warmaster!” Scootaloo hopped up. “Could you please carry on?”
“Ah yes!” Selenite giggled. “Where was I?”
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Well that sure explains a lot. Glad that her principal is a least a great guy.
i.imgflip.com/56n5ei.jpg
He could always just pull a Twilight and leave the EEA all together.
Best Mom of The Year material right here.
I wonder why this feels rather accurate.
A point, the young one makes.
Something tells me that Rarity is more so saying these things because she is in the presence of the Warmaster, then because these are her true feelings.
While it's very clear and understandable, why EEA and Neighsay were trying to stomp Nightmarism and Culturkampf thestrals, doing so by oppression and rapid direct attacking of ways of life only galvanize these oppressed even more. Also being personal about thing isn't good for cause and Neighsay. I can say it from experiences of my nation, as we were target for such policy (with intend of removal of our nationality) for long time. About Apple Bloom's rant (which is pretty on point), unfortunally Vae Victis and revanchism are always a thing.
What happened to Neighsay and others from EEA in this timeline, Moonatik? Especially, as one of most mighty persons in Lunar Empire saw direct proof of their hostillity to them?
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you'll find out next chapter :)
Just here to comment how cute that interaction was between Selenite and her mother. Arlia telling her daughter how lucky she is and then Selenite praying to Nightmare... it's not just the obvious exposition but these small bits, too, that make the world feel more alive chapter by chapter.