Council of the Moon
The shadow of the Castle of Friendship hung over the sprawling town of Ponyville like an ever-present stormcloud. It kept some of the smaller houses in darkness for most of the day and allowed a chilly breeze to sweep through the streets below. It was within the embrace of that shadow that a broad earth pony left his small abode, stumbling to shove a stack of papers into his worn saddle bags so that he could lock the door behind him. The wind picked up and ruffled the fur of his green coat and made a mess of his short, seafoam mane.
The earth stallion leveled a glare at the castle as he finally locked the door behind him and swiped one hoof over his ruined mane. After a pause, a sigh escaped him, and he turned his steps in the opposite direction, towards the station. It felt weird to turn his back on the object of his studies, its shadow still loomed over him and sent a brief shiver up his spine. He hesitated but a moment before pinwheeling around and racing up to the base of the castle one last time.
With any luck of course, this would not be the last time, and he told himself so as he sucked in deep breath after deep breath in front of the incline of stairs leading up to the door. The Council of the Moon had accepted his dissertation to be read for approval tonight. No, he rethought with a faint snort. Not with luck. He glanced almost defiantly at his flank where a cutie mark of four golden hearts arranged to resemble a clover sits. Not luck. Intellect.
The wind picked up again, and the earth stallion closed his eyes as it seemed to tug him towards the ancient crystal doors. Soon, he promised the castle, and turned his back to it once again as he raced towards the station, and the train that may very well leave without him if he didn’t hurry.
~~~***~~~
“Chance of Ponyville?” a middle-aged unicorn mare asked dully from the doorway of the council chamber.
“Yes!” The earth stallion jumped a little, the papers balanced so carefully in his hooves spilt onto the floor. He stifled a groan as he began to hastily gather them up. To his horror, the unicorn just watched him over the rim of her glasses as he amended his mistake alone, and rolled her eyes when he finally managed to grip them all between his teeth.
“This way please,” she said tartly as she directed him with a dismissive wave of her hoof towards the open doors. “You’ll have fifteen minutes to speak, and fifteen to take questions. Please keep things brief, we have other matters to listen to tonight besides yours.”
Chance cast a bemused glance behind him towards the vacant waiting room before trotting behind her into the chamber.
To say the layout of the monthly meeting place of the Council of the Moon was intimidating was an understatement. The council’s head, an impatient looking unicorn mare sat at a podium raised more than twenty feet above the council room floor. Around her circled two rows of council members, also raised above floor by many feet. Chance swallowed harshly when his brain quickly calculated the alarming percentage of unicorns in the room. He could spot a hoofful of pegasus among the ranks, and one very elderly earth pony, but otherwise they were all Canterlot elite. All unicorns. A much smaller podium had been placed in the center of what Chance could really only call the pit, with the entire council looking down at him it couldn’t be described as anything but. The structure of the room itself, the way the speaker was clearly meant to feel small beneath the watching eyes of the council far above them, was intentional.
Still, Chance managed to puff out his chest and make his way to his tiny podium without so much as a tremble. He placed his sheaf of papers on the white marble surface as gently as he could and swallowed as he realized that he must have scooped them up out of order when they scattered in the waiting room.
Above, the head of the council cleared her throat in an unflattering manner that made the mole on her cheek twitch. “Anytime that you’d like to begin, mister . . .” She raised a hoof to her mouth to cover a clearly feigned yawn.
“Chance,” Chance intoned stiffly.
“Mister Chance, then.” She finished with another, smaller yawn. “Go on, if you’d please.”
He had no time to try and sort his papers into the proper order, so Chance merely bunched them into a less blustered looking stack beneath his hooves and directed his gaze upwards towards the rows of unicorns. “I’ve come here to present to the Council of the Moon a simple proposal,” he began, proud when his voice didn’t waver. “I seek permission to be allowed access to the Castle of Friendship.”
A lower murmur rippled through the ranks before the head of the council cleared her throat again. “You can’t be serious,” she said. “The castle has been sealed for almost a thousand years.”
“I’m completely serious,” Chance replied steadily.
In the front row, a petite little pegasus mare leaned over the edge to address him. “And what do you expect to gain by being allowed such permissions?”
Chance noted with curiosity the way the unicorns around her edged themselves a little further away when the pegasus spoke, the way the head of council glanced away and didn’t not fully acknowledge her. So he turned his full attention on the pegasus, whose white feathers fluff up at the recognition. “The return of the Princess of Friendship.”
The silence that fell over the council was deafening, and even the little pegasus looked startled. A few unicorns had all but reared back in their seats, hooves clutched to chests and muzzles as if they’d been struck. When the hush finally broke out into a sea of whispers, Chance gave them a moment before he interrupted.
“It is said that we ‘lost’ our princess when the Great Gryphon War drew to a close,” he said over the trailing wisps of conversation above him. “But in my studies I’ve come to believe that the truth of the matter is that we lost ourselves. We lost our sense of Harmony as citizens of Equestria.”
“How dare-” the council head started, only to be cut off by the white pegasus mare stamping her hooves forcefully against the edge of the dais. The unicorn mare clamped her mouth shut before huffing out, “Ivory Spirit,” between gritted teeth.
“Zealous Belle,” the pegasus, Ivory Spirit said curtly in return.
For some reason this served to aggressively silence the entire council. Chance pretended to shuffle his papers for a heartbeat if only to create a bit of noise after that bizarre outburst. “As I was saying,” he continued, “It’s clear at the very least that we no longer mingle the way we used to. Earth ponies keep their hooves rooted to the soil upon which they were born. Pegasi live and die without ever leaving the trading ports in the clouds.” He swept his gaze meaningfully around the room, challenge in his golden eyes, “And our cities are overcrowded with twice the amount of unicorns as there are pegasi and earth pony residents combined.”
The council head made as if to open her mouth again to object, but thought better of it when Ivory Spirit cast her a vicious glare over the heads of the unicorns around her. Chance did his best to imitate the expression under the probing eyes of the rest of the council. “Once, the most powerful magic of all was also considered to be the simplest. Friendship. We used to all work together in unity, in harmony where ponies of all walks of life were equal. Princess Twilight Sparkle set an example that we should have been upholding in her absence. Your council room is round in a poor imitation of her table, for your head sits above you all.” He gestured to Zealous Belle, pleased at the fury that lit in her eyes when those below her begin to murmur, heads bent together. “A true leader considers herself equal to everypony around her when in their council. She treats all words as though they are worth hearing, no matter who they come from. The Princess’ council was made up of equal representation of unicorns, pegasi, and earth pony alike.” He bowed his head reverently towards the old, earth pony mare at the back of the council, pleased when she smiled and dipped her chin towards him in return. “We should be emulating her,” Chance said with a tap of his hoof to the podium. “We have dishonored her by conducting ourselves as we have for nearly a thousand years. My fellow ponies, we did not lose the Princess of Friendship, we lost ourselves. And in doing so, we lost the greatest magic Equestria has, the Elements of Harmony.”
This time, Zealous Belle spoke unabated. “We know exactly where they are. The Tree of Harmony sits outside your very doorstep, Chance of Ponyville,” she said snidely.
Chance scoffed, “A well known fact. Bravo. But it’s also common knowledge, councilmare, that the Elements continued to exist within their bearers. Has no one before me ever questioned why we no longer have any bearers.”
“Besides the obvious answer of death?” a unicorn stallion with a dark plum coat and even darker mane asked. “The Elements died. If you must ask silly questions of us, please provide answers that aren’t so inane.”
“Gladly,” Chance grinned. “You see, my fellow ponies,” he swept his forehooves around the room, gesturing to all and none in one broad motion, “it is my belief that the Elements of Harmony have the potential to reside within the hearts of anypony. Much like with our Princess, we only considered them lost to us because we ceased looking for them. How many of you can consider the pony next to you a friend?” The accusation echoed in the chamber, making silence fall among the ranks of the council once more. “That’s what I thought. If we had truly preserved the lessons Princess Twilight Sparkle taught us, the castle might still have open doors. It is my belief that if we seek to rediscover the Elements within ourselves, then the Princess who once left us out of grief may yet return. If I’m granted access to the castle, I’ll seat new ponies upon the abandoned thrones. We all know the stories, don’t we? About how without the other five, the Element of Magic loses its power? Not because it is somehow incompetent, or its bearer a poor spell caster, but because it represents the strongest, simplest form of magic in the world. The Magic of Friendship.”
Chance dropped to all fours beside the podium and paces to the edge of the council floor before beginning to make his way slowly around the full loop of it. “Without Harmony, we will eventually lose what little we have left. Without Harmony, ponies have lost the power to become alicorns. Without Harmony, we face new and greater threats every day that we struggle to fight against because we are no longer a kingdom united. If I can be given access to the castle, I believe that Harmony has a chance of being restored, and with it our lost Princess returning to the country that loved her and loves her still.”
Head held high, Chance waited as the whispers turn into a ripple of conversation above him. This was the moment he’d waited for, studied for his whole life, and he was ready.
A navy and sea-green unicorn mare raised a hoof for silence before she voiced her question. “Your entire proposal hedges on the idea that Princess Twilight Sparkle is still alive. No one has seen her for nearly a thousand years. How can you be so sure she did not choose to join her friends?”
The parting remark was so callous it almost made Chance reel. He tried not to feel too angry about it, a thousand years was more than enough time for such statements to seem mundane to most, and he reminded himself of that before he replied. “The other Princesses know when one of their own has died. Or so we’ve been told. The magical waves of power released upon an alicorn’s death are hard to miss, even for mortal ponies. None of us remember of course, it’s been more than a thousand years. But we have two Princesses who do remember, who felt the earth shake with grief and overflowing magic when Princess Celestia and Princess Cadence were killed in the war. Posing that question here is the same as posing it to Princess Luna. She believes Princess Twilight Sparkle is alive. Who are we to think otherwise?”
To his relief, his words effectively silenced the council once more. A few reverent heads turned to glance at the stained glass window behind the head of council where the faintest hint of moonlight could be seen amongst the stars.
“Excuse me!” Chance whipped around to see Ivory Spirit leaning over the edge again, her wings flared out at her sides and the strands of her pink mane that weren’t curled into a tight bun shading her eyes. “If, in theory, the Elements can indeed reside within the hearts of anypony, do you expect every mare, stallion, and foal to gather around the crystal table to summon the lost Princess back?”
“I believe that the table will have the power to choose the successors to the thrones around it on its own,” Chance returned. “We have stories of how it was used to summon the Element bearers across Equestria in times of great need. For all we know, it could still be summoning them, new guardians, old guardians, waiting for the thrones to be filled again by those deemed worthy.”
The pegasus mare tilted her head slightly. “Deemed worthy? If Harmony exists in the hearts of everypony, or so you say, how can there be some who can be declared more worthy of one of the thrones than their fellows.”
“Because the Harmony in our hearts is weak,” Chance said lowly. “It has diminished and dimmed until it’s almost unrecognizable. I can count on my hooves the number of ponies who would go out of their way to help somepony else if there was no reward in it for themselves. That’s not Generosity. And I’ve yet to meet a member of the Canterlot elite who did not spit out at least one lie through their teeth, even if it’s lily-whitest lie you’ve ever heard. That’s not Honesty. To even get here I had to read my dissertation to small town mayors and councils first, when a unicorn could have done half, no, even a forth the work I did in order to be allowed to stand before you. That’s not Kindness. You share secrets and gossip with your fellow council ponies rather than good news and smiles. That’s not Laughter. And worst of all,” he turned to direct his words at the council head, “You fail to uphold the teachings Princess Twilight Sparkle left to us, and then question why she chose to leave us, rather than recognize the fault within ourselves. That is not Loyalty.”
In the wake of his final speech, the council remained hushed. The head councilmare rested her steely eyes on him without a word, and Chance wondered if the silence was meant to convey his dismissal. Unsurprisingly, it was Ivory Spirit who spoke up once more.
“Thank you, Chance of Ponyville,” she said slowly, each syllable hitting Chance’s ears like the drumbeats of a funeral march. “You have spoken, and the council has listened. We will bring your written proposal before Princess Luna this evening, and consider what you have requested.” She lifted her wings and took to the air for a moment before lighting down directly in front of him on the council floor. He diligently passed his messy tack of papers into her waiting hooves, and as she tucked them against her chest and as she gave him what appeared to all outsiders to be a curt bow, he heard her whisper, “When you leave, take a right, a left, then another right, and wait in that hall.”
There was no further fanfare as the same councilmare who escorted him in left her seat to escort him out and into the now empty waiting room. Once he was all but shoved through the door, it banged shut behind him with a finality that sent a slight shudder through his frame.
There was almost no choice but to follow Ivory Spirit’s curt directions as the emptiness of the castle halls loomed before him. “Right, left, right,” he muttered to himself as he tentatively started to creep down the passageway directly to his right. There wasn’t a single guard lining the halls, and Chance took his time at every wide window he passed to admire the night sky outside. His second right stopped him short however, as he found himself in the long walkway that lead directly to the throne room. Images carved reverently with stained glass lined each side of the hall.
He’d seen pictures of them before, but never had he been able to see them in person. He knew every story depicted in those windows by heart, and he stopped to admire each of them with something akin to reverence. The defeats of enemies and the crownings of leaders were all showcased in this hall. He paused before an image of Twilight Sparkle facing down down a massive twister, surrounded by her friends. It seemed so odd to stand in person beneath the refracted light the moon cast through the glass, the colors dancing across his fur. In the distance, he could see the glass visage of the Storm King, and tried to place himself in the horseshoes of the ponies standing so proud and strong together in the face of such insurmountable peril.
“I’ve often wondered if the ponies of today envy friendships portrayed in these windows the same way I did long ago. In many ways, I suppose I still do.”
Chance almost jumped out of his skin at the sudden intrusion of the strange voice into his thoughts. He whirled around and nearly tripped over the ornate rug spanning the length of the hall. A giggle reached his ears as he righted himself, and he met the eyes of Ivory Spirit, who had a hoof to her muzzle in a belated attempt to muffle her laugh. But it wasn’t her Chance’s gaze was ultimately drawn to, but her shadow of an escort.
Despite his own stature, Princess Luna stood taller than him, and Chance’s muscles stiffened as her curious expression froze him in place. Transfixed, he focuses on the constellations that swirled in her mane as he tried to recall any sort of royal protocol from his studies. His readings had focused primarily on Twilight Sparkle, rather than Equestria’s only remaining monarch, and he suddenly found his knowledge inadequate when faced with her regality.
A hoof adorned in a slipper of the softest metal Chance had ever felt tapped him lightly on the underside of his chin, and his eyes lock with that of Princess Luna. “Rise, Chance of Ponyville,” she said gently. “I speak to you as an equal.
Chance hadn’t realized he’d fallen to his knees until she began to nudge him to his feet. Beside her, Ivory Spirit suddenly seemed almost like royalty herself, a smile on her face that conveyed knowledge beyond her years. “Y-you’re the Princess’ student,” he stuttered.
The petite pegasus fluffed her feathers out a bit, “Well, yes . . . I try to make that too obvious during council meetings though.”
“You clearly held some deal of sway over them regardless,” Chance complimented. The pegasus fluffed up even more, and ducked her head behind a wing as Princess Luna sent her an amused glance.
“Ivory can be a bit . . . Loud about her convictions,” she chuckled, “But from what I’ve heard, so too are you, Chance. But I must warn you of something no book could have told you. Only an Element of Harmony can reopen the castle.”
Chance briefly felt himself deflate under such a confession, but as his eyes began to lower, he caught sight of the stained glass eyes of Twilight Sparkle behind Princess Luna’s shoulder. No, if he let such a thing stop him now, then he wasn’t worthy of starting this journey in the first place. “Then I’ll open it,” he said before he could fully consider the words. “I’ll open the door myself.”
Luna smiled again, amusement sparkling in her gaze. “You?”
“Yes,” Chance reaffirmed. “If I’m not worthy of beginning this, then you are free to find someone else.”
To his shock, Luna looked nothing but pleased with his response. She nodded to her student, who straightened up, immediately attentive. “Ivory, write up a letter of permission for Chance to take back to Ponyville with him. Make sure it allows him access to anywhere and anything he needs in order to fulfill his quest.”
Ivory Spirit had already procured a scroll and quill from Celestia knows where and was scribbling away before Luna finished speaking. Chance glanced between them, a dizzy sort of giddiness welling up within him with every new beat of his heart. “I won’t let you down,” he said swiftly, lest there be any concern. “I will restore the Elements and I will find Princess Twilight Sparkle.”
Luna glanced at him out of the corners of her eyes, her gaze fond, almost familiar. “I know you won’t,” she said softly. “Feel free to ask for additional aide from me at any time, Chance of Ponyville.” She levitated the scroll away from Ivory Spirit as the last few words were penned, and with a flash duplicated it, the original rolling up and returning to the pegasus, and the other wrapping itself in a ribbon and moving to hover just below Chance’s nose.
He took it in his mouth without further instruction. “Thank you,” he mumbled more or less coherently around the scroll. “I’ll do my best.”
“I know,” the Princess repeated, and with a motion of her wing guided her student and herself towards the throne room and the rooms beyond. Chance stared after them for a while, stunned at all that had occurred in a matter of minutes, scroll still held carefully in his teeth.
