The Fall of Morninglight

(( This entry is dated December 30th of last year ))

My sojourn to the east, to Cervidas, was indeed a wondrous week spent abroad - but I am happy to have returned to my own lands and to be amongst my own trees once more.

The Cervidas King, known to me as Kian and known to the Cervidas deer simply as “the Lord of the Forest”, bid me visit their lands for a year’s end celebration and to show off his land and his people… And, of course, whilst I was there and so enjoying a holiday he hoped to engage me on refining the taxation I levy to Cervidas exports that travel through Roanoak.

I was happy to oblige him on all accounts.

You see, the primary export of the Cervidas people is soft, precious metals. And while Canterlot’s profusion of Unicorn jewelry smiths have access to Equestria’s wealth of fine crystals and gems; this serves to highlight Equestria’s limited precious metal resources…

Meanwhile Cervidas has very limited coal resources, and what they do have cannot fuel forges of sufficient scale or heat to meet their growing industrial needs.

As Roanoak is easy landfall across the ocean from Cervidas, and the forges of Roanoak produce very high quality steel, this brings about our shipping arrangements with them… I convert precious metal into steel for Cervidas, and make my profit on the movement of gold and silver into Equestria.

It is a good arrangement that produces favorable results for all three Lands.

The topic His Majesty desired to discuss was the taxation I levy upon private resellers. To protect my shipping interests, I tax the movement of goods to and from Cervidas though my ports by any third-party… This allows free enterprise by way of specialized resellers, but keeps their costs of doing business in smaller quantities or privately somewhat universal, as they all must cover the same taxes. And this serves to keep their costs parallel to Empire costs, so the variations in expense on either end remain relatively the same despite the carrier.

He seeks to have me raise those taxes based on increasing private shipping to and from Cervidas, to deter such free enterprise… For Cervidas culture is rather isolationist, and he is finding the increase in exposure of his lands to be – unpleasant.

Of course, he also desires to increase his price for his exports accordingly as to absorb the financial excess the elevated taxation will create… And in this his ultimate desires are rather transparent…

But, enough about the drudgery of commerce and the vagaries of international politics… I have spent the last week discussing such, and it is a topic best left for balance sheets, not personal journals.

With regard to Cervidas itself, it is a wondrous place of vast ancient forests – a bit cold for my liking though… We ponies do not have the thick seasonal coats the Cervidas deer do, and I was ever thankful for my heavy petticoats, scarves, and hats. And, as the Cervidas deer are entirely a woodland race, they have something of an aversion to open fires… So my overall impression of the land is simply one of cold…

But the Cervidas deer are extremely warm and friendly – once they get to know that you are not a danger to them. For as a general rule the Cervidas deer are very skittish and wary, and do not take well to strangers.

This was made evident upon my arrival in the capital, Concordia. Typically my arrival at a place is met with a certain ‘pomp and circumstance’ of crowds and sharply appointed officials. But as I stepped from the airship and onto the wooden platform, there were actually more of my attendants than there was delegation to greet me…

In attendance to welcome me was just the King himself, two armed and armored bucks, and a doe that seemed to be some sort of functionary who was tasked with remembering everything that was said or happened.

I shall return to this doe in a moment, for she truly fascinated me. But before I get into that, I really must describe Concordia – or at least as well as I am able…

I mentioned above that the Cervidas deer are a woodland race… This needs to be clarified; for you see while ponies may live in a wooded area and therefore be known as ‘woodland ponies’, the Cervidas deer will change one’s opinion of the term forever.

As it is winter in Cervidas, as I stood on the deck of the Imperial airship in my full regalia, and several layers of warm clothing I was told by the Griffon Captain of the vessel, whom I assume to have been piloting such things since he was old enough to reach the wheel, that the approach to Concordia was not something I should miss.

He is gifted with both his piloting skill, and understatement…

We approached what can only be described as a very large forest in fall, but as we continued to draw closer for a span of nearly a half an hour, very large became a term I could no longer use… The trees were immense, hundreds of meters tall in fact, and as we slowly sailed past the periphery and into the gigantic branches, the world all-around took on the colors of autumn… And I began to feel a bit like a small bird amidst an endless forest.

Looking down between the branches as they passed under the hull I could see the loamy ground below, and it appeared we were some fifty meters above it, but if one merely looked ahead, one could easily be forgiven for assuming they were merely piloting down a tunnel – if said tunnel were made entirely of tree branches…

For what must have been another hour we sailed on through the trees, which once one becomes accustomed to the thought, becomes much like traveling amidst the tall spires, buttresses, and bridges of an immense castle. And, as one becomes accustomed to the oddity of that thought, one begins to notice what would appear to homes… These are not immediately evident, for they appear to be mere extensions of the trees – as if a house, windows and all, simply grew in that spot.

But, once you see one of the homes, the rest becomes apparent: spiraling walkways, vast gardens, lanterns that glow with a golden phosphorescence, and pathways along the immense branches. Even small shops and other businesses are nestled amongst the branches… Concordia is an entirely arboreal city.

But as amazing as this was, it does not prepare one for the approach to the Great Tree.

At the very center of Concordia lies the single largest living thing I have ever seen in our world. It is a tree of such magnitude as to be rather unfathomable in fact. The trunk of it is of sufficient size as to make it appear flat, and the bumps and whorls of its bark appear to be a craggy cliff face…

And as the airship turned and moved along the surface of the tree towards an obvious landing area I was struck by the incongruent image of flying next to a mountain, but knowing that what I saw was a living thing.

We soon landed and the airship was tethered, and I stepped from the airship onto a wooden platform… But it was not ‘lumber’, no element of it was cut or assembled and my hoof falls did not echo as they would on dried wood. This was simply a round, flat area that appeared to be little more than an immense tree branch that was quite conveniently the right shape and size to act as an airship landing.

As mentioned, only the Lord of the Forest, Kian, two of his personal guard, and an assistant, met me. And as we exchanged pleasantries I could not help but to keep looking about at the world I found myself in – which elicited a polite chuckle from His Majesty, and a blush from myself.

Immediately afterward though, as my stevedores lifted my baggage magically, the King’s eyes grew wide with wonder and he faltered in his welcome speech. I recalled at that moment that the Cervidas people do not have such visible magic – and I took the opportunity to politely chuckle as well.

As a people, the Cervidas are a bit taller than the average pony, but far more lithe. I would guess they, in general, weigh about half to two thirds as much as a pony, with the bucks being definitely larger than the does. And the antlers on the bucks are quite astounding, and an obvious point of pride as they tend to be polished and decorated.

The Cervidas deer are also very, very agile – amazingly so even. I am known for my fluid movement and attention to both place and time, but during my visit I continually felt as clumsy and gangly as a foal. The deer leap about their forest with nary a care, using their cloven hooves to find purchase where none could be seen and simply bounding back and forth between branches to gain higher levels of their arboreal home, or dropping ten meters at a dead run as if it were nothing.

Even with my wings, I could not move about the forest with as much quickness as the deer did.

And so, that evening was spent in rather informal discussions with His Majesty over all manner of things not related to laws and treaties - mostly because we both desired to know more about each other as a people.

I discovered that the true magic of the Cervidas deer is their mastery of the forest. They can influence and shape the very trees of their land to create their homes and gardens, as they require. And I witnessed this power first-hoof as His Majesty simply willed a shelf to appear in his study to place my gifts of maps and books of the Manelands upon. It was … magical to see.

The power was subtle and to an untrained eye one would not know how such a feat was performed. But if I am anything it is observant of magic, and as such I noticed the faint green lines of power radiating out from where his hooves touched the tree... And the patterns his spellcraft created there were beautiful.

I also discovered, by way of my gifts of maps and books, that the written word is highly treasured in their society. Writing for them is difficult given the lack of materials to fashion a workable quill or ink, and as such reading and writing are not prevalent. In this regard they have cultivated an oral tradition, and as such they have astounding memories.

The assistant I mentioned earlier? Her purpose is to observe and remember, in exacting detail, everything the King does or says… A living journal trained from an early age to miss nothing, and remember it all. And their powers of observation are definitely equal to this task, those large eyes and ears miss – nothing.

They also venerate nature, in all of its forms, and for them there are no holier days than the first of spring and the last day of fall. The event I was there to see was a ceremony to ‘call back the sun’. For a week after our Longest Night, the deer have a ceremony where a fire is kindled on that night, and held aloft in the main hall of the Great Tree for several days.

Four deer, in daily rotation, cause the Great tree to grow a complicated weave of new shoots and branches that contain the fire and hold it aloft in the middle of the hall – but this must be done with care as the fire consumes the new growth. Too slow, and the fire falls and potentially sets the place on fire. Too fast, and the fire is smothered by the tree.

The first four deer are bucks, and they both kindle the fire and hold it aloft from midnight until dawn, and the other shifts are does and they take over from dawn until the next dawn. And on the final day the first four bucks take over at dawn, their antlers covered in vines and plants, and they each in succession relay the fire from the hall and walk it slowly down the great spiraling path to the forest floor, holding it above them in their antlers as they cause the vines to maintain it. This procession ends at a nearby river where the fire is extinguished.

I was to observe the final day, walking solemnly with His Majesty behind the bucks that would relay the fire down to the river. It was a very solemn affair, with the winding path to the river lined with deer that were there to pay their respects to the sun.

For my part, I got no end of curious looks. I am told that for many I would be the first pony they had actually seen, and an Alicorn at that… They all know of us, of course, but few had ever actually seen or been so close to a pony. And as the event was to signify new beginnings, his Majesty thought my being there, walking the path with him before his people, would fall in line with this new beginning and be a powerful symbol.

The procession was moving, His Majesty’s speech was empowering, and when he suddenly announced me and stepped aside so that I may speak – frightening.

I am told it is their tradition to speak from the heart and to avoid overly wrought words. And by putting me on the spot like that, his people would hear truths that may otherwise be hidden under layers of pre-arranged diplomacy.

Now that the shock and fear has subsided, I think I like this tradition…

So I stepped up onto the dais and, as I always do, flared my wings to get attention – and the several hundred deer before me nearly bolted into the forest… The panicked intake of breath practically created a breeze in that clearing – and I still feel horrible for giving them such a fright.

But, other than that one issue, the rest of the event went well. I am told I gave a good speech and it strengthened the belief that Pony-kind was not out to hurt Cervidas.

The remainder of the trip was uneventful. Hours discussing taxes and tonnage, and working out the vagaries of payments in both directions…

Ultimately, I believe I shall have to visit Concordia again in the future. For I believe we have definite friends there across the ocean.

I wish I could say my return home was so uneventful…

Apparently, whilst I was away there was a bit of an insurrection with regard to both the Imperial Guard and the resident 13th Legion from Equestria.

I am still reviewing the report and gathering information, but it seems various elements of the Guard were working on ferreting out a plot to attempt and bring another Changeling hive into being upon Roanoak soil…

Being as this worked so well up north in Morninglight, Imperious took this as a clear and present danger and had all of his available resources working on discovering the perpetrators…

Oddly, three of the perpetrators turned themselves in on the evening of the 23rd.

Questioning ensued, testimonies were acquired, and evidence was corroborated; which all led to the apparent return of a very dangerous Changeling known as Sans Serif.

During this, somehow, a portion of the citizenry and two off-duty guards appeared in the barracks, armed, and attempted to either escape with the prisoners or interfere with questioning.

This leads me to believe they are, or were, part of the group responsible for this attempt at sedition and as such, by action, are culpable for treason. I come to this conclusion based on two observations:

One: Three key members of the Changeling cell turned themselves in and were offering information for amnesty.

Two: The citizens and off-duty guards involved attempted to stop the divulging of this information.

The complication here is that due to the armed nature and the numerical advantage of the ponies invading the barracks, the Guard was forced to use lethal force to maintain control of the situation. As such, questioning of some of these seditionist elements is no longer possible.

Even more complicating is that one of the deceased, according to reports, was an agent working for a recently shuttered intelligence-gathering agency for the Equestrian crown.

I know that Canterlot has no love for the Changelings, but these events do lead to some disturbing questions that I need to have answered. Questions regarding how far one must go in the chain of command from the Diarchy before they begin to hear Changelings are not all that bad.

In closing, while I do find these events upsetting for I do not revel in the extinguishing of a life – any life – I also do not have the luxury of a moral high-ground in this. Weighed against the potential evils of a Changeling hive and its insatiable appetite for my people, those who have sided with the Changelings should take this event as a sobering portent of their future…

To those who side with the Enemy I shall simply state: Believe what you will, follow those you will, see the world as you will – but if you are seeking to turn my people into mere cattle for Changelings, if your purpose is in any way contrary to the wellbeing of my ponies… You need to be prepared to meet a similar and unwavering fate.

So mark my words.