Chapter V
The close council’s table was just as large as it had always been, but with well over twice as many ponies filling the room, it somehow seemed too small nonetheless.
All of Twilight’s advisors had been displaced to other seats brought in for the occasion. Occupying their places instead were an eclectic collection of ponies: Pegasi Polemarchos, their armor-grey peytrals embedded with insignia of commanders and cities both past and present; a pack of unicorn nobility, each bearing the bright colors of their houses - though all upstaged by Blueblood himself, who despite his age had appeared in a cape so long it had to be hung over the rear of his seat.
Here, the sitting Chancellor of the Earthkin, an enormous stallion who seemed to rival Big Mac in bulk (if not in height) and practically morphed into a boulder when hunched down, watched the room through eyes that were entirely too sharp and cutting for his sedentary appearance; there, a trio of Thestrals universally so dark in tone they almost seemed to blend together quietly whispered to one another in their lilting tongue.
Cadance, of course, murmured into Shining Armor’s ear. The vast and shaggy bulk of a Yak and a dragon coiled in an almost feline fashion regarded each other with the cautious poses of proud creatures trying to judge when the other would force a defense of that pride.
The Duchess of Maretonia - herself a mare barely of age, after her father had passed - sat in friendly conversation with an eagerly chattering changeling of Hive Heterocera.
It was, Twilight thought, maybe the only true friendliness in the room. The rest exuded a sort of latent, perpetual poisonousness - not so much the sharp acidity of hostility, but a sort of low-lying miasma much like the invisible clouds of foul gas which could sit atop a swamp.
Much of it was directed at her.
Nonetheless, Twilight drew skyward, raising her chin above the heads of all the other ponies there, and tapped her hoof sharply on the table’s surface. “Gentlemares, Noblestallions - please, let us begin.”
The atmosphere in the room fell still, but it was more the chill of death than a welcomingly quiet attention. Twilight pointedly refused to swallow, nervousness long since having been crushed in such public moments.
“Gentlemares, Noblestallions - the core reason I have asked you here today is… an incident, ten days ago, during my morning court hours. No doubt many of you have heard of it. No doubt some of you may even have heard the rumors I was… perturbed by the accusations.”
Her hooves resting atop each other on the table, Twilight lifted herself fully erect - and watched as so many eyes followed her. “I am here now to tell you that these rumors are, in part, true… because the truth is there is some truth, in a way, to her accusations. I am not Celestia, nor am I Luna. I am not either of the ponies that has governed Equestria for untold ages, and I am not the esteemed council which unified us before that time-”
And a low snort issued from one of the Thestrals, which was quickly silenced by a blade-edged look from one of the Polemarchos.
“-I am myself,” Twilight concluded, “and while that might seem an obvious statement, I think that we should focus on what that really means. I am not like any ruler that has come before me, and our government is not like one that came before us. It is a new age, and this demands a new charter for Equestria.”
“What,” asked the Earthkin chancellor in a surprisingly reedy voice for a pony of his considerable stature, “are you proposing for us to do, Princess Twilight?”
A slight tilt of Twilight’s head, and the ponies of her council fanned out to visit seats around the table, scrolls in their magic and in their mouths.
“I propose a renewed charter that defines the basic nature of Equestria. No great changes to what government we already have, although I have added clauses reflecting those who have chosen to remain a part of Equestria even through times of great loss,” she said, nodding her head towards the Heteroceran changeling who eagerly buzzed her wings in return.
“...forgive me, Princess Twilight,” Blueblood drawled, “but I believe this paragraph would add additional official - representation,” and his tone suggested that perhaps intrusion had been the first chosen words, “each of which would hold the same authority and representation as the delegates of the three tribes do today. You’ve said there are no great changes, but I find that to be a rather great loss of authority. Do the rest of you?”
He couldn’t have read that deeply so fast. Someone leaked a copy to him. Finding out who will have to come later.
As a low rumbling rose around the table, Twilight also rose - coming to her hooves, to her full height that lifted her well over the others present.
“No. No, I do not. Because I am not reading this as a cold calculator of power. Gentlemares, Noblestallions - what is Equestria? Is it just a game we play? Are our subjects pieces on a board, to be snapped up and hoarded for points?
Twilight shook her head, wings spreading and hoof tapping sharply against the table. “Being part of Equestria is about being generous, even if it pains us to give something up. It is about being kind towards each other, even when we disagree. It’s about being loyal to what we’re all part of, even when it costs us.”
But not about being honest with each other. Not today.
“That is what has kept us together before. It is what will hold us together now. And it is why I will be giving something up too.”
In the silence that followed, the dragon at the table uncoiled herself. “Are you speaking of… abdication?”
Twilight’s eyes flitted to her, meeting the slitted, serpentine eyes of her counterpart. They were not Spike’s eyes, no - his had yet to become so narrow and cunning. But they were close enough she could read them.
Not greed. Curiosity. Maybe even a little fear.
“No. I propose to give something far, far greater than a throne and a bit of metal,” she said.
“The power of Sun and Moon is rightly Celestia and Luna’s. I cannot bring day or night on my own. But they have given me this conduit to that power.” A hoof rose to touch her chest, where a medallion hung beneath her peytral on its platinum chain. “They have entrusted me to do with this as I see fit… and in this new age of Equestria, I propose that power should be shared in the spirit of friendship too. In exchange for re-signing your loyalty to Equestria, I propose that so long as I sit upon the throne of Equestria, all of you should have a voice in its use as well. I propose to establish a council, with yourselves seated as representatives, to form a counterbalance. At a two-thirds majority, the council will be able to overrule my use of Sun and Moon.”
The silence that followed was absolute, but may have been better compared to the sea withdrawing before a tsunami given the absolute torrent of noise which followed. Over a dozen voices, raised in vigorous clamor, shouting as much out of pure instinct than over any other voice in particular. Out of the corner of her eye, Twilight saw Raven’s ears pin back, while Folio outright took a huge step back to place Sir Breeching between himself and the tumult.
Twilight couldn’t blame him. He’d been unfortunate enough to stand nearest the draconic representative, who now was beginning to smoke from both nostrils as his claws gouged deep into the meeting table.
It was only when there was a sharp flash and the table ground - Hive Heterocera’s delegate shifting herself to something three times her normal bulk and possessed of far too many spines - that Twilight held back no more.
She stood, both wings spreading to twin fans of broad violet feathers, and spoke with a voice magically amplified ten times over.
“Stop this, all of you.”
It was not the Royal Canterlot Voice, but it was enough.
Around the table, the tumult ceased (at some seats, perhaps a bit begrudgingly). To Twilight’s disappointment, Blueblood had not keeled over from a heart attack. His mouth hung open, a fresh interjection half-formed on his lips which Twilight silenced with a sharp glare and point of her still-lit horn.
Folding her wings, she fell back to her haunches again.
After a moment, the others did as well.
“...this is, of course, a major change. I am sure any of you are worried about being excluded from such a thing - but this is a gesture made in the name of friendship. I will not demand you sign fully at this moment, without notice or warning. What sits before you is only as a preliminary measure of agreement, indicating your interest in participation.”
And they will agree, because they will see me as a foal for talking of “friendship” and not strategy.
But also because so long as one signs, the others will not dare keep themselves out. And for that, I can rely on-
“I can already tell you,” Cadance said firmly, “that the Crystal Empire will join in this. Because I agree with Twilight: This is a new era - nowhere moreso than the Crystal Empire. They never had a chance to formally join Equestria the first time; this is a twice-blessing for the Crystal Ponies. They need to move on from their past; this will give them a future.”
Several heartbeats passed, heartbeats which seemed an eternity, heartbeats in which each ponderous tick of the council room’s great clock seemed to stretch forever and each tock land with the weight of a landslide-
“This is absurd,” a voice - not Blueblood’s perpetually petulant tone, for a change - interjected. All eyes turned to the lone griffon at the table - a guest of the Polemarchos, Twilight guessed, by the medals on his chest. “I cannot even sign this, but even I see how insane it is. She asks you to give your word now, without chance for discussion, debate, or analysis!”
Or subterfuge and deal-cutting, Twilight thought.
“If you will read the document before you,” Raven cut in with a tone honed to a knife edge from years of experience, “then you will see that, again, what is before you is preliminary alone. There will be ample time for all of you to return to discuss this with the other nobility, councilors, subjects, champions, chieftains, and all you represent.”
“I will swear this oath,” the Duchess of Maretonia said, her voice small. “Maretonia is small, but Equestria has never forgotten or neglected us. We should be friends. Time for something new.”
“It’s you who are too new,” the Earthkin chancellor rumbled, “too new to your throne, filly. You are signing away your freedom.”
“No,” said one of the Thestrals in her lilting tongue, “the filly is right. A new moon rises tonight. We should have a chance to make it our own. The heads of the Free Families will sign. This, I swear to you.”
Surprise coiled through Twilight’s belly, before the Thestral mare met her eyes and gave her the answer: A gaze of pure, cold anger bedded upon vicious spite.
She doesn’t approve. But she can’t bear to see Luna’s gift outside of her control. Can’t bear to see anypony else holding it without Thestrals having a hoof in it.
I… can live with that, I guess.
If there had been any other hesitation, now it was broken: One after another, quills found their way into mouths, magic, talons, and wings. Some faces were eagerly joyful, others showed eager opportunism, some lifted their quills only begrudgingly…
But quills rose, dipped into their wells, and scratched across the parchment nonetheless.
Folio stepped forward cautiously, the bowl of steaming wax held in his muzzle. Quick twitches of his neck dripped a medallion of wax onto each. Various totems of leadership - a signet ring, a talon-cut gem, a carved - Twilight swallowed - carved length of bone were pressed to wax.
“Today,” she said softly, “we begin something new. Equestria isn’t unchanging. Equestria is constantly renewing itself. Figuring out where we stand is never not a challenge… but I’m glad to be doing it with all of you.”
A few cheered. Some just nodded. Two or three muzzles dropped in frowns, or eyes narrowed in suspicion. But all had signed, and that, Twilight figured, would be enough. *
“Now, why don’t we have a proper celebration? Because if there’s one thing one of my friends has taught me, it is that there is nothing that is not worth having a party over. So there’s some refreshments in the next room - yes, Rift, I made sure to bring gems this time - so we can go over and enjoy ourselves a little bit?”
“There is a trap in this, Your Highness,” Rift said. She took another bite from a spear of quartz, daintily held between two claws, and chewed. Twilight wondered if the reminder that her jaws could crush solid crystal was intended as intimidation.
“Oh?” Twilight said instead, drawing her own cup to her lips in careful mirroring to the dragoness’ action.
“Yes. I cannot quite see it yet, but there is. It was clever of you, this ploy.”
“Oh?” Twilight repeated, her eyes flicking about to judge whether anyone was close enough. The hall was large enough that the small crowd of advisors could split into individual groups, and decorated by richly-embroidered tapestries whose beauty was of secondary importance to the way they smothered all conversations to a muted murmur, so long as each group kept their voices low.
I wonder how many deals have been cut in this room. How many causes were found, agreements formed…
Twilight had chosen to station herself near one corner, adjacent patch of sun streaming in from a window - a cooler spot, but also one from which she could watch nearly the entire room with little motion needed.
The socializing - and deal cutting - was almost done now, the patch of sun almost traversed over to the wall.
Rift’s pupils, narrows and slitted, flicked over to study the alicorn. Teeth, pointed and knifelike, were exposed as a small smile turned the corners of the dragoness’ mouth. “You herd types,” she murmured, “always falling in line. One begins to gallop, the rest follow. You are using your allies to pull the others along.”
“It is in our nature to cooperate,” Twilight parried. “Though if you insist on knowing, the basic idea of my proposal did come in part from a dragon as well.”
“Perhaps that is why it smelled so familiar. I thought there was a draconic touch to it.”
Tearing her eyes away from where Halazi was deep in conversation with the other Polemarchos, Twilight turned to raise an eyebrow at Rift. The dragoness shrugged, tourmaline scales glittering in the sunlight.
“Dangle something desirable before somedrake - somepony - and let them catch the scent. Then draw them closer and closer. Perhaps you will not bring them all the way - or perhaps moving from where they slept is what you desired in the first place. It is a dragon’s strategy, yes…”
“Well, he was very helpful,” Twilight said without any dishonesty.
“...but a desperate strategy.”
“You see through me entirely, Lady Rift.”
“And you do not even try to deny it.” A low thrum built in Rift’s throat, her neck inflating and pulsing as she did. “I find myself wondering, why a Princess of Equestria, so full of years yet to come, is so eager to let go of the greatest power your kind have ever held? And so there is a trap. There must be a trap. But I cannot yet see it.”
Turning her eyes to the floor, Twilight let her tail flick about her haunches once - a deliberate show of ever-so-slight uncertainty. “Would you believe, Rift, that I simply don’t believe that this is the right thing to do? That this power should be shared? That I do not want to be a tyrant?”
“That is a very, very pony thing to say,” Rift growled, “and one that I would believe. In fact, I think very highly of your move here. How can I not? You do a kindness to us, knowing that some dragons still look upon ponies as little more than a nuisance. Or, a source of riches to pilfer.”
“But you do not trust it.”
“You are Celestia’s pupil. Student of the Sun. Taught at the hooves of She who grasped the power and guarded it carefully. No, I still smell a trap.”
“Do you think Ember will acquiesce to this?” Twilight said, her change of topic blunt enough to draw an internal wince.
Rift grunted sharply, bobbing her head in a deeply inequine, lizardlike fashion. “Yes. To reject being part of it would risk her rule over the other dragons. She has bet everything on closer ties with Equestria.”
Exactly like Sir Breeching estimated she would.
“The right choice, in my opinion too,” she added.
“Oh?”
“This is a valuable thing you offer. And I shall be curious to see its outcome too. You know, of course, that it will only apply to the younger, the hoardless, and those two old and sleepy to guard their own hoards.”
“Yes. Many of the solitary adults don’t respect the Dragon Lord’s authority, yes,” Twilight said. “I understand.”
“Hmm.” Rift regarded her with glittering eyes. “Just making certain you understand what you are buying. I will be eager to see what your trap is, when it is sprung. Now-” Her nose tipped skyward, nostrils flaring. “-I believe I do smell something rotten upon this air.”
An apology was forming upon Twilight Sparkle’s lips when movement caught the corner of her eye. She turned about - not to slowly, not to fast, as a Princess should - and found Blueblood, threading his way towards her, a vanguard of flunkies at his side.
“Ah,” Twilight simply said.
“I will leave you to face this foulness,” Rift said, something not quite a grin on her face as she turned to pad away. “Best of luck, Your Highness!”
I will need it.
“Princess, a word?”
Even his voice was enough to make her want to paw at the floor and give a little snort. Instead, Twilight turned about yet again and dipped her head in greeting. “Of course, Your Highness. I have a moment.”
Then she looked at him.
Blueblood was, she had come to learn, not an utterly idiotic stallion. There was a certain cunning behind his icy blue eyes which had served him well as he circulated through Canterlot’s social circles and moved ponies like pawns around him. A certain awareness deeper than the empty-headed dolt he seemed at first.
Right now, those eyes were cold with bitter rage.
“I must concede defeat, Your Highness,” he said, voice devoid of any hint of the fury his eyes so completely showed. “You have outmaneuvered me quite cleverly with this.”
Twilight opened her mouth, but found there was little she could say which her mind had not already formed retorts for.
It was a moment of weakness that cost her as Blueblood continued: “Your measure will pass, I can see that much already. And as Platinum’s scion, I must be compelled to add my seal to this ‘new charter’ when it does, lest that legacy be lost to my line.”
“I would have thought that regaining some say over the unicorns’ historic claim to Sun and Moon would have appealed to you,” Twilight said carefully.
“That,” spat Blueblood, “is not what you have done. You have diluted that authority. Instead of competing with two tribes, now we must vote-” the word was spoken as though it were venomous, “-with so many others.”
“Celestia did not give you any say in when she raised Sun or Moon. And like it or not, Equestria has changed.”
The second she said it, she knew it was a mistake. Blueblood’s already-bitter eyes narrowed yet further. “Princess Celestia was closer to me than many ponies of my own blood. You are not her. She did not compel us to agree to her whims for raising either.”
“I am… sorry you feel that way, Blueblood. I truly am.” Twilight let herself sag, ever so slightly, as she spoke. “I don’t know if you will believe me when I say I wanted this to be better for everyone. I don’t know if you will care. But it is the truth. There isn’t any cold attempt to bind you to me here. I truly want this for all of Equestria, in the name of Friendship.”
For just a moment, she thought there might have been something - a twitch of his brow, a flicker of his eye, a twitch of his ear. For that heartbeat, she dared to hope.
Then it was gone, masked again under cold fury.
“Well,” Blueblood hissed, “you will get what you desire, Princess. ‘For Equestria’. You have won that much. But I will make sure I can drag it out as far and long as I can. I will see that every tortuous point is debated in the House of Nobles, drawn out as long as I can, so that you will bleed every bit I can draw from you.”
Without waiting to be dismissed, he spun about and trotted off, head held high.
A few steps distant, he turned back, malice glittering in his eye.
“You may have her crown, her stature, her years,” Blueblood said, “but I will make sure that they know you aren’t a real princess.”
The ache which shot through Twilight’s heart was arrested before it could show on her face. Not that it mattered; Blueblood did not wait to see what effect his verbal harpoon had upon her before he resumed his retreat, his circle of attendants closing around him.
Not until he had vanished did Twilight dare to let out a breath. She felt her ears lay flat, but brushed it off with a lash of her tail, turned about-
And almost jumped out of her hooves as she found her vision all but eclipsed by a pair of golden-yellow slitted eyes. When her heart had ceased to threaten to leap from her chest, Twilight managed to dip her muzzle in greeting to the pony before her.
“Lady Mellowglow,” she murmured, “thank you for your support.”
The thestral mare regarded Twilight with a look that was anything but mellow - hard, pointed, and searching. Finally she gave a low grunt, and leaped from the cushioned seat she had stood upon to raise herself nearly to Twilight’s height.
“Walk with me, My Princess,” she said, and Twilight found herself doing so without even thinking about it.
Few other ponies were left by then, and Twilight did not object when Mellowglow’s course took her from the reception chamber and out into the palace’s hallways. They walked without spoken words, only the hollow sound of hooves on stone and carpet marking their passage.
“Thank you for coming to this,” Twilight finally said, the silence having become too heavy for even her broad body to bear. “I know it must not be easy, staying up this late into the afternoon.”
“Do not bother me with smalltalk,” Mellowglow snapped back, and Twilight found her jaw tightening.
The smaller mare drew to a stop amidst a long, winding hallway; it took only a turn of Twilight’s ears to confirm that their course had taken them far from any of the aides, servants, or adjutants who roamed the palace ceaselessly.
“You should not judge the vain prince too hard,” Mellowglow said softly. “Her Highness Celestia was the pillar of his world. The tree which shaded him. The only one who treated him as a stallion, not a Prince.”
“I’ve tried, but I think he still sees me as that one unicorn who came to the Gala and ruined his evening.”
Mellowglow flicked her tail. “He loved her, as one loves kin. His boorish tone is his own failing, but his anger is the anger of an orphaned child. He sees you undoing what she wrought, and he finds his world adrift. As we, close-kin of Luna, so feel too.”
“Mine as well,” Twilight murmured.
Mellowglow grunted again, a strange clicking sound, and spun about in a sudden, sharp motion. “Your thanks for our support are accepted,” she said, “though you do not deserve the promise I gave. Luna’s gift was not yours to give.”
“I know how you feel about the gift I’ve been given, and how I’m using it,” Twilight said, meeting the smaller mare’s gaze easily.
Before she could continue, however, Mellowglow hissed sharply and drew her lips back, exposing pointed teeth that gritted together. “You think you do, My Princess. You think you do! But the powers you play with are old. You are like a filly now, pulling wooden blocks from a tower, not seeing that it teeters perilously.”
“Lady Luna,” she added in a blade-edged voice, “did not see this either, until the tower fell and she was lost to us.”
Twilight winced, but shook her head. “If I’m ‘pulling blocks from a tower’, Mellowglow, then it’s because I see that if I don’t, the whole thing will come falling down eventually.”
I’m not a real princess.
“I believe you.”
Snapping her head back up even as her ears folded back, Twilight blinked in surprise.
“I believe you,” Mellowglow said, “in that you believe this. Your intentions are good. Your beliefs are righteous. I have seen enough to know, you believe in your friendship. But you do not understand what Luna meant to us. The Free Families have long memories; we remembered Luna when everypony else had reduced her to a foals’ tale. Her gift was not yours to give.”
“More than that, Mellowglow. I know I’m not Luna. Or Celestia. I -” Twilight found her voice faltering, and swallowed hard. “I know I can’t be either of them.”
“Yet you allowed a fool of a mare to shake you so deeply, you went to all this.”
No. I was already well and shaken long before that.
But Twilight did not say that.
Instead she shook her head and said, “When that pony yelled at me in the open court and set this whole thing off, it wasn’t because I thought everypony should treat me like Celestia or Luna. It was because I’m not them. If I were one of them, I wouldn’t have to do this.”
“I know this,” Mellowglow said, her voice somewhere between a hiss and a sigh, “and I know you believe this is best for all of us. And yet, you will learn to place your pieces more carefully in the future.”
“Maybe so,” Twilight answered. “You think the Free Families will sign? Without trouble?”
“Without trouble? You ask much, My Princess. But the math is clear; if you accept the costs of the boon you ask, then you will have your new charter.”
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And there it is.
The Dragon is actually thrust with her Snout into the Trap and does not see it.
Because if they all sign, then yes, they gain a vote . . But they also in writing
accept and ratify her right as Ruler of Equestria.
Why aren’t there Princess Celestia and Luna tags?
11898536
Besides as a certain sunflower was fond of saying, the sun always rises, both blueblood and marigold thought the power was theirs by some divine right, but even in the magicless future of G5 the sun and moon rose and fell.
Twilight traded fake power for real power, power derived from the will of the people will trump so called divine right any day.
11898669
Because them not being there is the whole Problem.
11898712
And if somebody ever doubtet her legitimacy, she could just go:
"Oh, not a real princess, not a legitimate ruler am i? Then this Accord is null and void and i no longer feel myself bound by it."
Of course she would not, but it would be a perfectly fine reasoning.
I honestly don’t understand the significance of this proposal. That two-thirds majority can… what, agree to let the world die? At least impose eternal night or day until the deadlock ends? Will every dawn and dusk require a successful motion? Yes, it’s a way to have Equestria recognize Twilight’s right to rule, but her apparent sacrifice seems like little more than giving the rest of the council enough rope to hang themselves.
11899059
No no, it is about who gets to control the sun.
Imagine if you will, the desert or ice bound folks getting it.
Now why should they not change it so it benefits them as
it has befitted the developement of equestria all this time?
The Yaks could thaw out their lands, make them arable and
not be cold as a freezer anymore.
The desert bound could make it so that the days are cooler
and the nights longer so they can get an actual working climate
that allows for them to do more farming as well.
And i do not have to tell you what the Bats would do.
They would not care about much as long as they got their moon
up in the sky for the majority of the time instead of the vile day star.
The Dragons . . they don't actually need it, but it is power over all
the other and everybody wants that for themselves.
The Dragons could just demand better trade conditions or lands to
be returned to them that they consider to be theirs by law or tradition.
"Oh you will not cede this for you basically worthless piece of land that
we want because it used to be ours before you came and stole it and
celestia happened to agree? Well, we do not agree and now we have
the sun. Have fun with your upcoming desert or being frozen untill your
crops fail. We can still live in those conditions."
Edit:
And just to put the icing on top of the cake, have you counted how many
parties there are that get to vote?
Fully HALF of them are at least nominally pony.
So chances are they will just vote for each other because:"i may not like
those ponies much, but they are still PONIES that will keep the status quo
as it is right now and not changelings, dragons, yaks or Griffins that could
decide to do who knows what with that power"
11899205
There are no middle gears when it comes to altering the motion of the sun or moon. (And may whatever gods are listening help them if it turns out the power works more along the lines of rotating the planet along its axis.) It impacts the whole planet no matter what, and trying to rig it for selfish benefits will only lead to ecological devastation, mass famine, worldwide disasters, and a number of retaliatory wars declared by whoever survives. This feels like a nuclear standoff in terms of an option too terrible to even consider employing.
11899227
Did not stop Celestia from making sure it was allways perfect for Equestria and her little Ponies.
She even betrayed her own Sister for it and misused the Elements of Harmony to make sure it
would not be changed from what she considered perfect for her domain.
Why should the other races care?
They are not as into friendship as the ponies and different from the ponies they actually have
a combat ready population to defend themselves and their lands of they decide to optimize the
way day and night works for themselves.
If they ever managed to overrule the votes of the ponies.
11899059
To me it is all about the fact it would recognize her right to rule. In order to do this, Twilight is basically giving away a symbolic but ultimately useless power.
Control of the Sun and Moon have become the symbol of power, ironically by lessening control of this symbol would solidify the rest of Twilight’s rule.
11899059
It's a mix of what 11899205 and 11899248 said. There are some minor adjustments which could be made with them, short of entirely desertifying or freezing an area. Of course, there also may or may not be some more destructive wartime uses of it. But it's also a largely symbolic power, exchanged for a largely symbolic oath of loyalty to the Equestrian throne. Then again, the power of the goddesses, even if indirect, is nothing small to sniff at.
The question is, then, why is Twilight so eager to give this power up to a council she obviously only partly trusts?
11902060
Because She has become a Politician.
It is what they do.