The Egg and the High Wall

by swirlstar

Rating: teen
Tags: Princess Celestia, Twilight Sparkle, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Alternate Universe
Length: 18062

Twilight tries to find common ground between her mentor and her town, amid Equestria's largest-ever civil disobedience campaign.

"We have no hope against the wall: it's too high, too dark, too cold."

Years of discontent boil over as Ponyville citizens stage an occupation of Market Square, demanding reforms that Canterlot will not consider. Caught in the middle, Princess Twilight is immediately thrown into the mess of histories, politics, and emotions that have led up to this unprecedented moment - and may also jeopardize her close relationship with Princess Celestia.

Can Twilight find a solution before her beloved hometown tears itself apart? Or will Ponyville's protestors learn what they have always known - that it is pointless to challenge the power of a god?

===

This story contains invented Ponyville slang and stretched interpretations of canon, so be warned.

Thanks to Politicalunrest2400 for a quick pre-read of the first two chapters.

Inspired by the Umbrella Revolution, the three-month long occupation of major roadways in Hong Kong from Sept-Dec 2014. (Declaration of interest: I was a participant in the Revolution.)

The opening sentence in the description is from Haruki Murakami's speech upon accepting the Jerusalem Prize in 2009. He was talking about Israel and Palestine then; the quote went viral in Hong Kong and was re-purposed for the purposes of the democratic movement there.

Artwork is obtained from MLP wiki images which are then processed through Paint.net. Obviously there are no images of ponies rioting in MLP, so don't look at the picture too closely.

Published 2015-08-07 19:30:02 UTC
Last updated 2015-09-25 16:42:55 UTC

Chapter 1 - When Ponyville Benefits...

Chapter One – When Ponyville Benefits…

“When Ponyville benefits, Equestria benefits; and when Equestria benefits, Ponyville benefits even more.”

Princess Celestia rarely interrupted other ponies’ presentations, a fact that Twilight Sparkle should have picked up on. The Project Engineer was in the process of summarizing the benefits of the Equestrian High-Speed Rail Project, and he had just gotten to the part specific to Ponyville when the Princess made her comment.

It seemed like the sort of innocuous truism that her mentor was fond of spouting: Twilight had become immune to it, and she brushed it off with a smile and a nod. In fact, the whole Project itself seemed excessively important for its caliber, something that would normally be within the pay grade of a functionary like Mayor Mare. Of course Twilight knew the stated reasons – it was a national project, the Government was sinking a billion bits into it, its construction would need the co-ordination of a hundred bureaucracies – but still, she couldn’t help but feel that this was simply yet another lesson in the Crash Course to Alicorn Administration, Head Professor: Princess Celestia.

Or perhaps Twilight’s brain was just rationalizing her slothfulness. Even sharp minds are dulled through lengthy grind, and this Engineer’s grinding was endless indeed. Hour upon hour spent on timetables, fare mechanisms, and transport systems; diversion after diversion on Equestria’s geology, Diamond Dog politics, national park finances... it had gotten to the point where the Engineer could’ve asked the purple pony to choose between building the line beside a volcano or over an active fault, and Twilight would have simply tossed a coin and have done with it.

“...and that concludes my presentation, Your Highnesses.” The accursed Engineer finally switched off his blasted projector. “Now I have tried to cover all aspects of the Project as thoroughly as possible, but I’m sure that Your Highnesses will still have questions you would like to ask. I’ll answer them as best as I can.”

Count me out, Twilight thought sarcastically, and not just because she literally could not recall a single word that the Engineer had uttered for the past hour. As is the case for all living things, a craving only gets more intense the closer it is to being satisfied, and at that moment the purple alicorn craved a nice bowl of hay salad beside a mug of cocoa… No, the Princess will just have to save me on this one.

Twilight looked expectantly at her mentor. Princess Celestia’s eyes were serenely closed, light enough to indicate that she was not under stress; she neither smiled nor frowned. She was contemplating: going over the mountain of information that the Engineer had so disrespectfully dumped upon her, drawing up her list of ten no-doubt piercing questions, preparing to turn even this insufferable horse into a stuttering ball of nerves.

“I- “

At that moment, Twilight’s stomach decided to signal its impatience with a loud, audible rumble. Faster than the blood shooting towards the purple pony’s cheeks, Celestia’s eyes flew open: her pupils were calm yet slightly-unfocused, the sort of look one would expect from a monk whose meditations one had interrupted. The white alicorn was good at those looks – even though her eyes hadn’t yet focused on anything in particular, Twilight knew her mentor was thinking about her.

Princess Celestia rose from her chair. “I thank you, Dr. Caboose, for your time – should we have any questions, we shall let you know.” She shook the Engineer’s hoof (oh, what a shellacking he just avoided!), then guided him to the other end of the hall and sent him on his way. The ornate doors closed with a metallic clang.

The heat on Twilight Sparkle’s face only grew stronger as she heard her mentor’s hoofsteps proceeding ever closer. She knew her teacher well enough to know that she wasn’t even going to be slightly angry about the noise. But even as the only sound Celestia was making was her hooves clip-clopping across the marbled floor, Twilight’s shame at her own lack of decorum had risen to such an extent that she at the very least had to slide off her seat and face her mentor, preparations for curtseying or even kowtowing at the ready depending on the level of royal displeasure.

She needn’t have bothered. As soon as the Twilight caught the first glimpse of the Princess anxiety and shame fled her; she felt the weights lifting off her back. Celestia was smiling: not simply a faint smile that indicates a patronizing acceptance of flaws, but a full-on glow, the warm beam of a mother to foal, a grin that not only refused to chastise Twilight for interrupting her questions but in fact thanked her for taking that onerous burden away from her. Had Twilight been a bit less shameless, she would have rushed over and wrapped her forelegs around the Princess herself.

“My faithful student,” the Princess cooed as she gave a few gentle strokes of Twilight’s mane, years and years of practice ensuring that her caresses were the best caresses as far as the purple pony was concerned. “Poor thing… ” A simple pop of her horn, and the formerly-bare hall turned into a homely kitchen – not the Castle kitchens, mind, with their vaulting beams and stern paintings – no, just an average kitchen of average proportions; formica counters, wooden cabinets and a haphazard collection of pans hanging against a lemon-chiffon wall.

Despite never having seen this particular kitchen before, Twilight was familiar enough with the standard layout that she instinctively shuffled left and fell into a chair, a small wooden table spreading out before her and another chair beyond that. She was so familiar with the layout, in fact, that she could turn towards the wall and there it was, a corkboard with a cutesy free calendar and some pinned-on post-its – except, of course, these notes were all reminders for things like “High Table with the Griffon King, 11/02” and “Agri policy: remember to ask about wheat subsidy reductions!”

“So what do you want, Twilight?” Princess Celestia was hunched over the kitchen counter, her form silhouetted by the dusk now settling over the view of Canterlot. She had tied back her wavy mane into a ponytail, with a white apron with a flower embroidered on it draped across her front. In that moment she looked more like Twilight’s own mother than the reigning Princess of Equestria.

The purple alicorn wasn’t a stranger to her mentor cooking: every now and then when nothing particular was happening, the Princess liked to indulge in a bit of baking and the occasional exotic recipe from Castle cookbooks. But in previous times Twilight could at least view herself as a partner, a helper to the Princess, both searching for a substitute to ‘Essence of Changeling’. But this time was different: the Princess was clearly serving Twilight. It wasn’t scary and the purple pony wasn’t horrified or particularly moved by the scene; it was just an indication that their relationship had gone up by another however-imperceptible notch, and the thought of that sent warm feelings down her spine.

Celestia turned her head around and Twilight realized that she hadn’t answered yet. “Oh! Um… just a hay salad, please. And a mug of warm cocoa.”

With the smallest of smiles the Princess turned and began her culinary work. A salad bowl levitated to her left; she began to shred the leaves and hay neatly laid on the cutting-board. At the same time she began humming a tune, that melody which all housewives seemed to know. The cool evening air, that well-hummed song, the chop-chop-chop of diced leaves… Twilight closed her eyes, soaking in the domestic bliss.

“Would you like eggs with this?” Princess Celestia asked, facing Twilight once again, two eggs levitated next to her head. Twilight peered past her and at the egg-blue bowl, in which contained all sorts of vegetable goodness.

“Yes, please- ” Twilight said before quickly doubling back on her words, “-but not boiled. Scrambled, please.”

The Princess nodded and took one of the suspended eggs in her hoof, gently bringing it against the kitchen wall. With a light tap – crack – she dented the brown shell, spider-like lines racing from the cratered wound. Then a creak, and Celestia’s two hooves parted the hemispheres as if they were hinged, the translucent whites flowing down into the mixing bowl, a muted plop as the yolk fell into the mixture.

What a strange idea the egg is! Twilight thought to herself as the Princess dispatched the second egg with similar ease and began whisking the yolks with a teaspoon. For a container designed to house life itself, it certainly doesn’t seem very sturdy.

Tak-tak-tak went the gas cooker – fwoomph, and the stove was alight. The Princess reached for the pan, butter-oil sizzling as the instrument was brought up to a cooking temperature. The yellow mixture was then poured in, the egg-remnants crackling and popping.

Celestia swirled the pan around and prodded the congealing mix with a wooden spoon. She was less distracted now. “So what did you think of the Engineer’s presentation, my faithful student?”

Twilight was suddenly brought back to earth. “Oh! Um – it was very informative, definitely. I liked the part where he mentioned that Fillydelphia considered burning their entire city down to get rid of the Parasprites.”

The white alicorn didn’t react. “I thought you looked rather bored for the latter half of it,” she commented.

Darn it! “Well… um…” Twilight stammered, a few deceptive scenarios flashing before her eyes.

The Princess chuckled. “Oh, it’s quite all right to feel that way, Twilight. Stars know, I was bored stiff by the end as well.”

The eggs were now cooked. Celestia pushed them off the pan and onto Twilight’s bowl, white wispy smoke contrasting with the darkening sky. “I suppose you could treat that as a lesson – even when every inch of your mind wants to be somewhere else, we still have to pay our guests some level of respect.”

Two warm bowls levitated over to the wooden table, Celestia sitting opposite her student. “It was a bit unfortunate, however, that Dr. Caboose ignored my request for a concise presentation,” she said as Twilight began spooning out her egg-salad mix. “For that last part was really what I asked you to come here for. May I have some coffee, please?”

Twilight received the two mugs levitating over to her and placed them on the drinks machine behind. “You mean the reasons why the Rail would benefit Ponyville?” she asked, recalling the Princess’ interjection. “But- “

“Yes, Twilight,” the Princess said, her motherly tone overlaying Twilight’s voice. “And I know what you’re thinking – you think the reasons are obvious – but all the same, I want you to hear them yourself.” The white alicorn nodded appreciatively as Twilight brought over her cappuccino. “You know that the Ponyville Phase of the Project will be initiating in a few weeks.”

“Yes – Mayor Mare brought me up-to-speed with the basics of the Project.” Twilight watered her mouth with a nice gulp of cocoa. “Land acquisition – terrain formation – superstructure construction – it all seems to be administrative procedure from here on out.”

Twilight had hoped that her enumeration of the Project’s phases would demonstrate her familiarity with the undertaking and re-instill her mentor’s confidence in her. Instead, she got a worried frown in return.

“This project is very important for Equestria,” Princess Celestia gently reminded her student. “When it’s complete, we’ll have linked all the regions of the nation together into one single high-speed network. And each station on that network will serve as an economic hub for its surrounding region. This isn’t just about a few trains, Twilight – it’s a national strategy. And I want Ponyville to be an integral part of it.”

This is serious business, Twilight realized, though for what reason she was still unsure. “Do you think the Ponyville Phase will run into trouble?”

Celestia took her time to respond, turning her gaze towards the fading scenery as she took a deep sip of coffee. “Have your friends said anything about this at all, Twilight?”

“Not… really,” Twilight replied, perplexed by this turn in conversation. Does she expect us to talk about this grown-up stuff? “I mean, Applejack’s brought it up once or twice, and you can hear that she doesn’t like it, but nopony else has said much– w-we don’t talk as much as some ponies might think,” the purple pony clarified hastily. “Usually when we meet, it’s either because we have to fight monsters, or it’s a pet-day, or a birthday… I mean, we all have work to do, and it’s not like we’re any less friends because we don’t gossip… ”

“No, no, I understand; I totally understand,” Princess Celestia quickly nodded, eager to dispel any notion that her student was somehow underperforming. “You’re the perfect student, Twilight, and I couldn’t have wished for anypony better. It’s just-”

The white alicorn paused and thought for moment, trying to find a way to re-phrase herself. “Not everypony in Ponyville is happy with the Project, my faithful student,” she finally revealed. “I just don’t want you to be surprised by something that happens out of the blue. It’s one of the things you’ll pick up as you get more familiar with the position – you can’t just look at things from your perspective; you have to know what other ponies think as well. Sometimes, their opinions will even change depending on who they’re talking to.”

“…depending on who they’re talking to,” Twilight murmured, making a mental note of this doubtless-critical advice. She had a vague idea why her mentor specifically mentioned that. “Okay – I understand. I’ll try and figure out why ponies are opposed to the Rail, Princess Celestia, and I’ll make them see the light.”

The bowls and mugs were now empty. “I have every confidence you’ll step up to the challenge, dear,” Princess Celestia beamed, leaning over and giving a friendly pat on Twilight’s mane. “It’s not an easy task, and I won’t think any less of you if you miss the mark.

“But for now-“ The white alicorn got up, observing Luna’s stars rise from on the horizon. “It’ll be quite past bedtime when you return to Ponyville – you need all the energy you can get, Twilight. Let’s walk together to the castle entrance.”

Twilight Sparkle smiled warmly as her mentor’s foreleg curled gently around her shoulder. “Thank you, Princess.”

Chapter 2 - Depends On Who They're Talking To

Chapter Two - Depends On Who We're Talking To

Princess Celestia waved until she was obscured from view.

Twilight was actually feeling quite alright as the chariot pulled away from Canterlot Castle. But somewhere over Saddle Lake, the purple alicorn’s vaunted capacity for self-doubt kicked in once again, and she started to worry.

Princess Celestia’s parting advice repeated itself, shrill and sharp, as if it had only been said a bare second ago. Sometimes, their opinions will even change depending on who they’re talking to… was Celestia hinting that Twilight’s friends were deceiving her? That they – the bearers of the Elements – were liars? The thought sent a shiver down Twilight’s spine. No, no; that can’t be true, she instinctively thought, her right foreleg launching into its fanning routine. It was impossible – they had been been through so much together – even if, Celestia forbid, they had befriended her with less-than-noble intentions, their friendship had to be genuine now!

Such reasoning calmed Twilight down a great deal, and slowly she felt the thudding in her head die away.

That still left the original question unanswered. The chariot dipped below cloud level as the alicorn mulled over the possibilities… well, she had spent enough time around Applejack to know that there was a difference between not lying and telling the whole truth – so that must be it! For whatever reason – position, fear of Celestia, or perhaps just because it had never crossed their minds – her friends had not told her the whole story about their opposition to the Ponyville High-Speed Rail Project.

Well, that is going to have to change. “So I’ll have Spike set up a lunch date for us all, and then ask what’s going on!” Twilight exclaimed, slamming her right forehoof into her left with a satisfying smack, the floor motionless under her. The alicorn looked up: the jagged edges of Ponyville Castle loomed overhead.

The charioteers looked at the alicorn bemusedly. “We have arrived, Your Highness.”

*

“Fluttershy is busy with Harry the Bear, Pinkie Pie’s gone to visit family, Rarity is still having her beauty sleep and I am not waking Rarity up from her beauty sleep.”

Only Applejack and Rainbow Dash could make Twilight’s little lunch, and even then only for a short while, which for the alicorn was acceptable enough. After all, both of them could be counted on to be ‘in’ on the municipal gossip, and the fact that both also tended to be frank with their views was an additional bonus. So as Twilight walked down Mane Road, she was feeling rather confident that the task before her would be one easily completed: somewhere above getting ingredients for dinner, somewhere below observing the latest celestial anomaly.

That one remark made by Celestia stubbornly refused to leave her be, however, and it was acting increasingly like some sort of mental filter. A slew of tiny observations began to creep into the purple alicorn’s worldview: the eyes that fixated themselves on her, even for the briefest of seconds – the way bodies reflexively straightened as she passed – even the fact that a few ponies would cross a street-junction early in front of her, seemingly to avoid being on the same side of the road. Twilight suddenly felt lonely and vulnerable, a chill she hadn’t experienced since her coronation days: back then, she was afraid that her status would isolate herself from Ponyville’s citizens. That fear proved unfounded, but dismayingly, she now realized that ponies still behaved differently in her presence.

It’s baggage you’ll have to carry, she concluded sadly.

The alicorn was approaching the junction of Mane and Lunar. The saccharine form of Sugarcube Corner rose in front of her; behind it, Market Square bubbled. She waited for a few carts to turn the corner, noting that even drivers, who presumably had more pressing things to look out for, stared at her for a split-second before shifting gazes... she crossed Lunar Street and heralded her arrival at the café with a dainty tinkle.

“… so I then told the squid, ‘you’re lucky I hea-do, pal, ‘cause when I roll the camera I’ll fry everypony’s prawns!’”

“Suh. So everythin’ was fifty-five after that?”

“Haven’t heard from the ball since.”

“Suuh.”

Applejack and Rainbow Dash were already sitting at the table, jabbering excitedly about… something. Twilight’s ears wiggled as she approached: it didn’t sound like Equestrian to her. Was it something she didn’t know? She could hear Princess Celestia’s words drifting back into her mind, and she tried hard to tune it out.

“Hey, girls!” Twilight slid into an empty seat with a smile and a wave. “So sorry for the short notice, but I really need to talk to somepony about this… strawberry milkshake, please!” she announced to the waitress scrambling to take her order. “…or at least, that was what I was going to do until I heard you two talking.”

Applejack averted her eyes in an obvious pretend-lie. “Oh that? Heh. Just our… um… secret language,” she teased.

Twilight narrowed her eyes. She could hear Rainbow stifling a laugh, evidently pleased that she knew something Twilight didn’t – a moment truly rare and treasurable.

Well, that just won’t do. Twilight hazarded a guess. “Is it slang?”

The orange mare responded with an exasperated sigh and a throw of her forelegs. “Got me fair and square, Twi’. Shucks, I ain’t no good at lyin’.”

“Hey, that’s supposed to be a good thing.” Twilight glanced at Rainbow’s crestfallen face with satisfaction. “That said, I’ve never heard you girls use slang before.”

“We only use it when we talk between ourselves. Kinda rude to talk like that when you don’t understand, you know.”

“Fair enough, but I’ve never heard anypony here use it before.”

The farm pony and the pegasus exchanged knowing glances. “Twi’, this ain’t just normal slang – this is Ponyville slang. You only pick it up when you’ve been here some, and even then you have to make an effort. Pinkie don’t speak it, and Fluttershy don’t neither. Rainbow only knows ‘cause she has to coordinate with us farm ponies over the weather. But that’s why she’s my fend,” the orange mare concluded, curling her foreleg around the pegasus with a cheesy grin on her face.

“Fend,” Twilight deadpanned.

“‘Friend’ without the ‘R’ and the ‘I’,” Applejack explained. “Oh, Twi’, we said you wouldn’t get it- “

“Oh no, I didn’t mean that!” the alicorn interrupted hastily, trying to avoid seeming like she was dismissive of this new discovery, which had somehow passed under her nose, undetected, for all this time. “I mean… erm… ‘fend’ is a bit underwhelming… for… but hey, what do I know?” the alicorn suddenly perked up, enthusiasm rising in her voice. “You know what – I do want to know more about it! A new word – a new language! It’s almost like discovering a new universe! Or a new spell! Or- “

“Chill out, egghead: it’s just slang, okay?” Rainbow Dash said, bemused at her friend’s nerdiness. “Even between me and AJ, we don’t use it all the time- ”

Too late! Notebooks, quills and other such stationery were already orbiting the alicorn’s head like planets. “Ready and waiting, Professors,” she declared. “Now teach me everything about Ponyville slang!”

Rainbow Dash and Applejack looked uneasily at the rogue strand of hair now sticking up from Twilight’s mane. “Erm- ”

“Let’s start off with that conversation you were having when I came in,” Twilight proposed, quill hovering in anticipation. “Something about ‘squid’, right?”

That jogged memories. “Right… yeah,” the cyan mare began tentatively, scratching her head. “Okay. So I was talking to Applejack about how this bean counter at Weather was telling me off for not being productive. I think he was just annoyed about me telling him about the Wonderbolts Reserves and how I need to work shorter hours because of it, especially as I’m getting policing duties now as well.”

The alicorn paused mid-sentence. “Wonderbolts Reserves do policing?”

“Part of ‘community integration’ or whatever. Really it’s just a way to get on the brass’ good side without having to do much… not that any thief is going to escape from me!” Rainbow Dash puffed out her chest to make her point. “Anyway. So I challenged him to find one piece of work I hadn’t done. And the stupid squid couldn’t do it.”

“’Squid’ means anypony who works for Government,” Applejack clarified. “You know, ‘cause squid got ink in their blood. And they also blow it out of their- “

“Anyway,” the pegasus continued. “… so I told the squid, ‘you’re lucky I hea-do, pal, ‘cause when I roll the camera I fry everypony’s prawns!’”

“Okay.” Twilight copied down the sentence in her fledgling lexicon. “’Hea-do’, ‘roll the camera’, ‘fry everypony’s prawns’... maybe even ‘pal’. Basically, this sentence makes no sense to me – unless it was about seafood, maybe.”

“’Pal’ is just pal. ‘Frying prawns’ means firing ponies. ‘Roll the camera’ means to work hard, though sometimes it means to fight. ‘Hea-do’… ” the cyan mare smirked. “It’s what I’m awesome at: not working hard.”

Twilight examined her notes once, twice, three times. “So what you were saying was that the bureaucrat should’ve considered himself lucky that you don’t work hard, because if you did work hard, you’d have everypony in the Department fired?”

Rainbow shrugged. “Pretty much. Doesn’t sound half as cool when you say it though.”

Applejack laughed. “One of the things you’ll learn about Ponyville slang, Twi’, is that it’s a bit more… down to earth than normal Equestrian.”

“That is the definition of slang, you know.” Twilight couldn’t resist a snark as she made a note of it in her notebook. “AJ, you then also said something about a ‘fifty-five’, a ‘ball’ and a… erm… ” the purple alicorn pursed her lips, trying to recreate the sound. “That word that sounds like ‘sooth’?”

“That’s ’suh’. It’s a… sorta… word you say when somepony does somethin’… cool, I guess. Admirable. Like if Rainbow tells me that she did a Sonic Rainboom? I’d definitely say ‘suh’ after that… or maybe not.” Applejack glanced nervously at the pegasus frowning and crossing her forelegs. “A Rainboom’s probably too big for a ‘suh’. It’s more like… well…

“Well, you’ll know when to use it when you see it.” The orange mare shrugged apologetically. “Slang’s like that. ‘Being fifty-five’ means everythin’s fine and dandy. And ‘ball’ means stallion. Obviously.” Applejack snickered, suggestively placing her forehoof between her hindlegs.

Twilight grimaced. “Thanks.”

“It’s really not that special, Twilight,” Rainbow Dash said. “Just a couple of words changed here and there, that’s all… ”

“But it does make Ponyville different from the rest of Equestria,” the alicorn observed, turning pensive. The milkshake arrived and Twilight clamped down on the straw; the air brimmed with possibility.

She could not believe it. Was it only a scarce ten minutes ago when she thought that she knew all there was to know about Ponyville? And yet here she was, now, looking at the town as if she had never been here before, a vast unknown confronting her, like an ocean stretching towards the horizon. Again Twilight felt a momentary chill course down her spine. Was it excitement, or was it fear?

Rainbow Dash snorted, half-derisively. “Heh. So you’re a localist too, Twilight?”

Twilight was suddenly wrenched out of her thoughts. “What?”

“Shucks, Rainbow, don’t tease,” Applejack gently chided, her tone turning serious.

The pegasus ignored her. “You know, ‘localist’. Somepony who only cares about Ponyville and nowhere else – sheesh, Twi, do you know anything about this town?” Smirking, Rainbow Dash leant closer and ostentatiously held her hoof against her cheek as if telling a secret. “You know, I can tell you that AJ is a localist- “

“I ain’t one!” came the protest, less good-natured than perhaps Applejack meant it to be. “Just because I don’t like the Rail- “

“You can tell Celestia I totally support the Rail,” Rainbow Dash continued whispering to Twilight, enjoying the effect she was having on the flustered orange mare. “I totally am not the pony blocking her plans- “

“Wait, wait: slow down!” Twilight’s mind was reeling from yet another wave of information. Had she been that ignorant of Ponyville? “Let me catch my breath… ”

The pegasus leant back and rubbed AJ’s mane good-naturedly. In a single sitting she had managed to rib Applejack and Twilight – a good run, all things considered. "Just a joke, Applejack... "

“Alright,” Twilight exhaled, still slightly confused by the whole situation. “First things first: I don’t tell the Princess on you ponies. I don’t – I’m not a snitch,” she declared earnestly. “Secondly: what’s this about localists?”

“Really?” Rainbow sniggered. “You see, egghead, that’s why you’re an egghead.”

“Fine! I admit I don’t know anything about Ponyville! Now tell me about these localists!”

Applejack gave a long and audible sigh, as if expecting this talk long coming. “’Localist’ is some word thrown around ‘gainst those who don’t support the Rail Project. Sayin’ we only care about Ponyville and not about the good of The Big Tribe... Equestria. Which ain’t true- “ she interjected, pre-empting Rainbow Dash’s response, “ -we just think there's no reason for our town to be buildin' another line.”

“Why not?” the cyan mare demanded. “Building the Rail means that we can get to Las Pegasus within a day. Can you imagine that? Even I’d like to try it out!”

“The cost, Rainbow? The folks who'll lose their homes? The smoke and the noise?”

“Farmers and tree-huggers,” the pegasus dismissed, rolling her eyes. “You think nopony else has thought of these issues before. You know a few months back, Cloudsdale was raising the same Tartaros about the Rail.”

“And what happened?” Twilight asked impulsively.

“The Rail got built. What did you think was going to happen?” the prismatic mare replied, looking at the purple alicorn as if she had just come out of the madhouse. “You do know that Princess Celestia backs the Project, right?”

The answer was expected, but Twilight still felt a pang of discomfort at the way Rainbow phrased her answer.

“Anyway. I’m not here to tell you what to think.” Rainbow leant back and checked the time. “Just in case you didn’t know, Twilight – and I bet you don’t – there’s a protest against the Rail happening in a few hours. You can always check that out if you’re interested in what ponies are saying about it. I’ll definitely be there: on the other side, but still.”

Twilight frowned. “The other side?”

“Police duties, Twilight. Did you even listen to me?!”

“I… ” the alicorn’s cheeks flushed a bright pink, unaccustomed to being outmaneuvered by her prismatic friend.

“Whatever. I’m sure AJ will take good care of you once you’re there. Just be careful and make sure you don't get your face plastered all over the Foal Free Press tomorrow. There’s a briefing down at the Station in five - so I gotta scram!”

Applejack looked on as Rainbow tossed out her share of the bill and slipped out of the window.

“Rainbow’s a good friend,” the orange mare observed simply. “Even if she’s got the wrong ideas.”

Twilight, in the absence of anything meaningful to say, decided to slurp up the remainder of her milkshake.

"Twi':" The orange mare turned to the alicorn. “I don’t know what they told you about me – about us – but we ain’t doing this just for kicks. We Ponyvillians have grievances and they need to be addressed.”

“Do you?” Twilight frowned, uneasy. “But I’ve been here so long and everything seems fine- “

“You don’t know nothin’ about Ponyville, Twilight.” Applejack’s voice, unexpectedly harsh and steely, cut through her friend’s excuses like butter. “I’m sorry – but you don’t.”

Twilight fell back, her pride bruised and sore. Applejack was staring straight at her, unsmiling, serious. There was an earnestness that had seemingly flared up out of nowhere, behind those green irises, and at that moment the alicorn realized they were not talking as friends.

“There are some things you can’t ‘git’ by reading old books, Twi’. Some things you can’t just learn locked up in your fancy little Castle. This Rail thing, Twilight: it’s bigger than what you think it is – bigger than what Rainbow thinks, maybe even bigger than what Celestia thinks!”

Twilight blinked and stayed quiet as a mouse.

“It’s more than a few farmers losin’ their land, more than a few extra visitors poured into our town; it’s even more than outsiders coming in and talkin’ down at us like we’re foals- Twilight, it’s about the system: we want to change the system!”

The purple unicorn tried hard to absorb what Applejack was saying, but it was a losing fight. Secretly she felt Applejack’s enthuasiasm to be clichéd, generic in its sales-pitchiness. How many times had she heard words to that effect from activist Canterlot students? How many times had she been impressed with the ‘urgency’ of so-and-so situation, the ‘importance’ of this-or-that policy? And yet once the events came passed and the dust settled, the alicorn usually found that there was precious little different about the world, and ponies thought and lived as they had always done.

“The system?” she responded dumbly.

Applejack got up from her chair, her form silhouetted by the noonday sun. Market Square and Town Hall chattered in the background. “The protest starts at four - we start at the construction site outside of town and march all the way down to Town Hall. Whatever answers you’re rootin' for, Twilight, you’ll be better off finding them there than askin' me about it.

"I bet Celestia’s asked you to investigate, hasn’t she?”

Twilight lowered her head and bit her lip in a sort of shameful admission - and in an instant the orange mare remembered that Twilight was a friend.

“Don’t worry so much about it, Twi’," she comforted, sheepishly walking over to the purple mare to give a kindly, genuine pat. "We all got these things we have to do. Maybe some good’ll come out of it, even.” A few coins clattered onto the table. “Here – fourteen buds for the Q; I’ll pay your share.”

Chapter 3 – The System Is Other Ponies

Chapter Three – The System Is Other Ponies

The ‘system’ is other ponies.

That was all Twilight could think of as she trotted away from Sugarcube Corner, away from Applejack now returning to the farm for some last-minute business. The alicorn originally had something else scheduled for this particular time slot, but she had forgotten what it was. Her mind was a mess and she wandered around town without direction nor purpose.

There was simply too much to take in. First there was Princess Celestia’s advice and then the discovery of an entire subculture right under her snout; Rainbow Dash proceeded to dump a heap of information about an Anti-Rail protest and now Applejack talking about ‘the system’… like whirlwinds these new revelations whipped their way across Twilight’s mental landscape, buffeting the library within, toppling the carefully-categorized bookshelves and scattering their contents to the four winds.

“You don’t know nothin’ about Ponyville, Twilight.” Applejack’s impetuous comment rose like lightning above the storm; she could imagine the sneer on the orange pony’s face, the sheer disdain. The farm pony had intended that sentence to hurt, and hurt it did: deep down, Twilight knew that Applejack was right, that she in actuality knew so little about the town she ruled over – but it is not in the nature of hearts to admit defeat so easily, and already Twilight’s wounded ego was formulating all sorts of bitter ripostes against everything that her orange friend had said.

The system is other ponies! All this opposition, this discontent, these concerns – if this Rail was so hated by the ordinary Ponyvillian, their complaints would have forced changes to Celestia’s plan long ago. So where’s the anger? Where’s the action?

Twilight looked up indignantly, the marketscape of Market Square laid out before her. Produce du jour lay everywhere: under rippling awnings, atop wooden carts, and besides creaky crates; their shadows melded in among the shaded cobbles. The air, heavy with scents of fresh fruit, heated coals, perfume, and the ethereal sparking of magical brews – and in the midst of it all, foals buying for parents, parents buying for foals, wives for husbands and friends for each other... what was there to indicate the slightest hint of discontent in this town?

That’s the way Equestria works! If you have a complaint and enough ponies share it, the policy gets changed... Princess Celestia listens to every subject, but you can’t just expect her to bend to every single request! So in the end, if the Princess dismisses your argument, then that’s only the fault of your lack of support.

The alicorn was not so naïve to believe that Equestria’s government was perfect, but she was convinced enough that it was a benevolent force. Too many times, she had seen Princess Celestia break her back on some law or some policy to think any other way. All that work – was it not done to keep her subjects safe, healthy, and happy? Oh, but those under her are not like that – all the same, were they not working for somepony who tasked them with such well-being? Did their careers not hinge on achieving this single goal?

That was what annoyed Twilight the most when she heard ponies railing against the government of Equestria: it simply possessed no motive to oppress them! The things it did, the aims it set ultimately had to be responsible to a being whose overriding attribute was benevolence – so what were the malcontents angry about?

Increasingly the opposition to the High-Speed Rail seemed less about principle, and more opposition for opposition’s sake, like a teenage rebellion against one’s mother. Twilight might understand (barely), but she could not agree: not when it concerned the future of an entire town, not when it seemed so… ungrateful. Perhaps it would be another matter if the majority of Ponyville’s citizens had come out against the move – but so far, they hadn’t.

And thus, the system is other ponies.

Her mind concluded for now, the alicorn looked up just to see Carrot Top bobbing up and down frantically, having spent the past few minutes attempting to capture the royal attention.

“Princess! Princess!”

Obligingly, Twilight dashed over to the stall, dark thoughts scattering away as she saw Carrot Top’s face break out into a grin. Things like that always reminded the purple pony of her purpose, made her feel more than just a monster-defeating superhero.

“Oh, you came just in time, Princess!” Carrot Top announced, irises shifting ever-so-slightly towards the curious heads turning in her direction. “There’s a great inflation-busting offer on for carrots – one bit for three, two bits for eight! We’ve also got you other great deals for ‘taters, turnips, cucumbers, you name it!”

“Wow- oh, wow!” Twilight exclaimed, instinctively reaching into her bag. The prices were indeed a deal, much more than what Spike could normally get (but then again, he wasn’t an alicorn princess – Twilight wasn’t stupid). The pantry was still well-stocked to her knowledge, but there was no harm in getting a few more of the less-perishable goods, and in any case…

“Um, that’s a great bargain, uh, fend,” Twilight stuttered, trying out her Ponyville slang. “Guess I should say, um, ‘suh’ after this?... erm… anyway, how many buds- “

“’Sooh’? What are you t- oh Celestia, you speak Imp!“ Carrot Top gasped, her foreleg inadvertently smacking her cheek; she swooned. “By the Nine, Twilight Sparkle’s a- Twilight’s an Imper!” the goldenrod mare bellowed for all of Market Square to hear. “Our Princess is a spuddin’ Imper!”

Twilight gulped, feeling cold sweat forming on her nape. “Uh- hey, Carrot Top, I just- “

“You’ll be gettin’ no complaints from this puss, here!” the vendor exclaimed, producing a bag of iridescent carrots from under the counter. “Here – five zap carrots, fresh as vomit, no buds accepted! Now go tell the rest of the tribals to learn our language, sta?”

Carrot Top’s hysterics had attracted a crowd around the stall. Twilight looked around, embarrassed: a mixture of interest, approval, inquisitiveness and… disappointment? Yes, there it was: that one pony just off the left to the rear, frowning and shaking his head in a sort of resigned surprise. Twilight wasn’t sure if he was commenting on her vocabulary or on something that Carrot Top said, but either way, it unsettled her, and she could feel her heart beat faster.

Carrot Top was not helping. “So where’d you learn to speak Imp, ee? Was it AJ or studyin’ in that fancy castle of yours? Damn fifty-five, I swear I’d never see the day a tribal squid was goin’ to learn Imp… T-H certainly doesn’t do anythin’ to help- ”

“Why should the Princess learn such a vulgar language?” somepony from the crowd suddenly piped up, emboldened by his anonymity. “‘Spuds’ and ‘pusses’… it’s like being in a whorehouse- ”

“Spuddin’ slime!” Carrot Top angrily retorted, whipping towards the section of the crowd that housed the unwelcome interjector, now cowed and deathly silent. “Piece of mustard-ball tribal! Why don’t you come out instead of hidin’ around like a bug, and we’ll roll the camera in front of everypony, sta?- ”

“Hey, hey, hey!” Twilight interrupted, remembering quite clearly that ‘rolling the camera’ was a Ponyville term for fighting. “I don’t want any cameras to be rolled here and I don’t want to hear anypony calling each other hurtful names. I just learnt some Ponyville slang- “

“Imp!”

“-ok, Imp – I just learnt a few words and wanted to try it out; I didn’t mean to start a fight, okay? So why don’t you all just calm down, and- “

“Hey!” A very familiar voice swooped down from the skies. “Whatever you ponies are doing, knock it off- Twilight!”

Rainbow Dash touched down next to the purple pony, clad in the navy-blue barrel-and-leg padding uniform of the Equestrian riot police. “Wow, you sure do attract the crowds, Princess,” the pegasus said, lifting up her visor. “Guess I should’ve told you not to use the lingo when so many ponies are around. Some of them get real twitchy about the issue…”

“Great, a turtle,” Carrot Top muttered under her breath.

Back turned to the offender, the pegasus felt free rolling her eyes in exasperation. “Come on, Carrot: don’t be such a low-B. You don’t like tribals – I get it. Just keep that to yourself, and I won’t have to invite you for coffee, sta?”

Twilight could see Carrot’s lower jaw grinding as Rainbow tried to usher the crowd away. “Sta; but only for you, Rainbow,” she finally conceded, settling behind her stall. “Though you ain’t getting’ no special discount on Tank’s lettuce for a week!”

“Whatever – I’ll just ask Twilight to buy for me next time… alright, ponies; show’s over!” The blue pegasus announced to the crowd, forelegs waving dramatically in an attempt to get the crowd to disperse. “Come on, move!”

*

“…’Imp’ is short for ‘In-Ponyville’, and those who aren’t Imp are from The Big Tribe, so they’re called ‘tribals’. ‘Puss’ is obviously the opposite of ‘ball’, and ‘spud’ is a word that I’m not supposed to say while on duty. If you’re asking a question with an open-ended answer, you use ‘ee’; otherwise, you use and answer with ‘sta’. ‘Low-B’ means idiot. ‘Turtle’ – policepony. ‘Invite for coffee’ – arrest... Celestia’s sake, Twilight, you’re working through the language like a dictionary!

And here we are at ‘T-H’ – Town Hall!” Rainbow Dash said, having escorted Twilight across the length of Market Square. It was a longer trek than one would expect. “Got business with the Mayor?”

“I think I do now,” Twilight groaned, rubbing her forehead with her hoof. “I thought I knew everything about Ponyville… but then the slang, and the argument… ”

“Hey, it’s not so bad – we got ponies who are working day and night to try and make it better,” Rainbow Dash said, attempting a reassuring embrace of her lavender friend in spite of her armor’s contours. “Celestia’s sake this thing, making it so hard to move…”

Giggling gratefully, Twilight examined curiously the armor that she had occasionally seen in the news – they were frequently seen, though she couldn’t recall a time when they were ever used. Its dark, hulking form gave Rainbow Dash a bulk and menace that, in any other circumstance, the pegasus would have been profoundly unhappy with.

“I didn’t know Ponyville had riot gear,” the alicorn commented.

“We didn’t – Chief Constable had to import from Griffonia. The higher-ups are concerned about trouble at the protest later on – you know, occupation of the construction site, imps and tribals arguing, that kind of stuff. My view: I’d probably just trust the townsponies to keep it together.”

“I kind of understand their concern,” Twilight responded, still somewhat shaken.

“Ha! Trust the pony who’s done this more than you, pal – we’ll be fine.”

*

“You never told me about the protest,” Twilight stated, slightly accusatorially.

Mayor Mare always looked tired. Even on a Monday nine o’clock, the tan pony would look haggard, ragged, bags under her eyes and frazzles in her hair, a steaming mug of coffee to her right. Twilight always found that odd: she used to attribute it to the ravages of age, at least until she found out that the Mayor was barely older than her own mother, which only made things even more odd. Was the alicorn herself destined for such a fate?

I hope not, Twilight thought, as she watched her bureaucratic counterpart – or perhaps the better term was squid – take a long sip from her mug of coffee. Twilight might not be the most style-conscious of her generation, but Celestia darn it, she was too young to give up on her looks!

The mug landed back on the wooden desk with a thud. “Low-intensity protests happen almost every week in Ponyville about one thing or another, Your Highness,” the Mayor mumbled, voice soft and toneless as if reciting statistics. “This protest should turn out no different.”

“That can’t be true. You’re calling up riot police to maintain order. And I just went through a nasty confrontation between locals and outsiders.” Twilight reasoned, leaning towards the Mayor. It was a strong blend that the Mayor was drinking, a strong blend indeed. “Look. I know about the opposition to the Rail. I know of the tensions surrounding this town. I want to help, in any way I can. As Princess of Friendship, I know I can do something about this!”

Mayor Mare tensed up, looking at the eager alicorn with strange eyes. They were gray and sterile, to be sure, but there was something in them that seethed. There was nothing else out of the ordinary in the Mayor’s tired face, and that only accentuated the strangeness.

Taken back, Twilight hastily retreated. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t- ”

“Oh, not at all, Princess,” the Mayor said casually; her eyes flickered and she sank into her chair. She still felt rigid, somehow, and for that reason the alicorn refused to let down her guard. “I’m delighted that you take an interest in Ponyville, Twilight, and I – and the rest of Town Hall, of course – will be willing to help you in any way.”

The alicorn patiently sat as the Mayor signed off a few more documents, slowly composing her thoughts. “It’s true: we’re having a bit more trouble with… local tensions… than usual,” the tan mare finally began, setting down her pen with a clatter that echoed around the room, silent as the grave. “I must stress that this has always existed as an issue in our town – ever since ponies started to come in from Equestria, anyway.” Her gaze met Twilight’s, and it was still as uncomfortable as before. “It’s a deep-seated issue, very rooted in culture and history. But it’s not serious and, rest assured, we will monitor the situation closely as it develops.”

“Not serious?” the alicorn challenged. “The argument I saw in Market Square sounded pretty serious.”

“Ponies like to argue, Twilight: you know that.” Mayor Mare put on her best forced, mysterious smile. “I heard the dispute from up here too, you know. Ms. Top’s never been the most restrained of ponies – all the more so now, when there’s an actual issue of debate making the rounds.”

So far, so evasive. Twilight grimaced. Mayor Mare clearly didn’t want the alicorn to intervene, and Twilight was half-inclined to follow her lead: if this was a matter so tied up with the identity of the town, then she definitely wanted to make sure she was well-read before wading into the issue. The last thing the alicorn wanted was to make things worse without knowing what she had done.

“Can I ask if there’s a link between the localists, and the anti-High-Speed Rail protests?” Twilight pressed gently.

Mayor Mare frowned slightly. “Opposition to the Rail comes in many forms – environmental, budgetary, agricultural, relocative and so on – all of which can be construed as part of some vague ‘localist’ agenda. Most of the opposition consists of young adults who – let’s face it – form the bulk of every protest movement. They are bored and idealistic, and this type of activity naturally appeals to them.”

There was something in Mayor Mare’s explanation that was… unconvincing, and Twilight felt it. It certainly didn’t provide a satisfactory answer as to why this protest had Town Hall on edge, and the alicorn was sure that the Mayor was hiding more than a few facts from her. Oh, how she would have loved to rake the Mayor over the coals, and have her spit the truth out in the manner of a detective novel – but ever since that fateful meeting with Applejack, seemingly so long ago, Twilight was no longer sure of what she knew: she felt like playing it safe, and to play it safe she had to be light-hoofed and cautious.

“Do you think I should go to the protest?” Twilight suddenly asked.

Mayor Mare gave an involuntary twitch. “What?”

“Should I go to the protest. Ask what the protestors want. Maybe I can- “

“Ahem. Your Majesty,” the tan mare interrupted, more forceful that she had earlier been. “I- I don’t wish to be impertinent, but… ”

The Mayor fumbled around for a few seconds before deciding to go with the direct answer. “You’re not just an average pony, Twilight. You’re royalty: you can’t just go down there and be seen opposing your own Government. It would... it would…” She took a deep breath, amazed. “You’d be going against Princess Celestia.”

“The Princess isn’t like that. She’ll know that I’m just trying to help,” Twilight replied, a little glibly.

Mayor Mare stared worriedly at the alicorn opposite her. “Please, Twilight,” she pleaded in a low voice. “Don’t do anything rash.”

Chapter 4 - Destiny

Chapter 4 - Destiny

The door to the Castle Library swung shut, but the echoes reverberated on and on.

That was a reason why Twilight did not yet feel adjusted to her crystalline palace. Those echoes: they reminded her of the size of the palace, of Tirek and his destruction, and of the old Golden Oaks Treehouse. Vaulting buttresses and stained windows could well impress, but they were no match for the cocooned safety of a small warm nook.

One day, Twilight promised herself. One day, I will install artificial ceilings in this room... She stifled a yawn – Celestia, did the revelations of the past few hours tire her out!

But work beckoned. “Spike,” the alicorn called out. “Spike!”

A door on the far side of the library opened and from his little cubby-hole the dragon emerged, rubbing his eyes after a nice sleep disturbed. “Oh… hey, Twilight,” he grumbled. “Back from the protest already?”

The alicorn yawned. “Ah… no, Spike, I went to Town Hall to- who told you about me going to the protest?”

“Applebloom told me that AJ told her that you told AJ,” Spike responded, reconstructing a perfect reverse-chronology. “Said she and the Crusaders were going to try getting cutie marks in social activism.”

That’s one occasion when I hope those fillies won’t succeed, Twilight thought. “Spike, please get me the following books: ‘Regional Histories of Equestria, Vol. IV’, ‘Old Ghosts – Exploring the Ruins of the Everfree’, and ‘A Hiker’s Guide to Historical Ponyville Sites.’”

Spike looked on, as Twilight groggily tried to stifle another yawn. “You know that afternoon naps and local trivia combined make you an old fart, yeah?”

“Very funny, Spike,” the alicorn muttered, nestling into her favorite reading pose and sweeping away last night’s study (equations and stargazing) to one side of the table. She really should have gone to sleep last night, as Princess Celestia had advised. “Oh- wait!”

Spike stopped dead in his tracks. “Hm?”

“Spike, have you ever heard of Imp?”

A confused frown. “What?”

“Ponyville slang? Words that don’t sound Equestrian?”

The dragon scratched his forehead. “No, not really,” he said. “I guess sometimes I hear things that I don’t understand, but I thought that was because I didn’t know better.”

“But you play with the Cutie Mark Crusaders; you play with Applebloom. You must have heard her say something.”

The dragon frowned. “I’m pretty sure I could understand everything she was saying.”

“Nothing at all? No ‘rolling the camera’? No ‘Low-B’? No ‘suh’?”

“No!” The dragon exclaimed, grumpy already and frustrated with this occult questioning. “Maybe if you’d leave the house for more than once a week, I’d have more time to notice these things!”

Twilight made a face at him. “I’ve told you a thousand times: you don’t need to limit yourself to the Castle whenever I’m around.”

“Yes, but my Dragon Code, Amended… argh!” Grumbling at his impotence, Spike trudged off to find the blasted literature.

The alicorn watched him labor away, sympathetic yet distracted. There was no particular reason to believe that Spike wasn’t telling the truth, but it was certainly odd that Applejack would speak Imp and Applebloom wouldn’t – perhaps the filly only spoke it with her family, akin to Applejack’s stance on the matter. Certainly there was a clubbish and exclusive air about the community of Imp-speakers; probably should have expected that of a language whose term for foreigners was ‘tribals’.

Spike came back with the requisite items – ‘Holy Celestia, these books aren’t even unwrapped!’ – and soon departed to his own business; Twilight began to read. Stuff for old farts indeed: dirt-brown paths snaking through seas of verdant grass, picturesque pathetic towers crumbling amid evening skies, tangled cobwebs and grasses, ‘Once a quaint backwater scarce distance from Canterlot, the Ponyville region has rapidly seized the national imagination due to its old-age charm…‘, but eventually the purple pony began to exercise a firmer grasp over the material.

Before Twilight’s mind initially floated a picture of modern-day Ponyville, the farms and the roads, the Everfree and the running waters; and slowly with each new packet of information she began altering the landscape: removing the rails, the houses; trimming the forests and re-adjusting the rivers, all the while feeling the ghosts of a distant time draw ever nearer…

*

Mane Street was a long, dusty road that stretched out some length before it rounded a corner behind a copse of trees. On every inch the wind blew, kicking up clouds of dust that then clung to the surface, insignificant and miserable. The gusts came from the so-called ‘storm breezes’, common this time of year, and while they did herald the arrival of a storm they never really adhered to schedule: the rain could fall in a minute's time or it could fall tomorrow; nopony knew.

Beyond the stamped path on the right, the earth descended at a steep angle until it touched the marshy riverbed, center crossed by a line of especially tangled green. On the left stood pockmarked buildings of wattle and daub: not particularly impressive structures, age warping them out of shape until they resembled nougats, but civic pride was nonetheless enough to keep their walls whitewashed and clean – ironically making them even more resemble the sugary snack. Signs swayed lazily from them like necklaces, bearing names like ‘PONYVILLE ING & IMB’ and ‘PARADISE HEA-DO’.

This was hardly a prestigious site for Celestia’s first capital.

“Stars, fend; don’t stray from the music so much and give other ponies a lookin’ chance, sta?”

Twilight turned to see a cloaked pony, evidently very unhappy at having her view blocked by the much taller alicorn – the effects of nutrition, no doubt – who was tapping her shoulder impatiently.

“S-sta. Sorry,” the alicorn apologized, moving out of the way. With one final glare, the mare took her spot amongst the crowd, thinned and stretched out along the line of the dusty road. Silent, the ponies anticipated.

Twilight took the opportunity to gaze once more at her surroundings – the lumpy buildings, the dusty road, the trickle of a stream that could not even fill its bed – and could not feel anything but the most supreme irony.

“And they’re back, ponies! Fillies and gentlecolts – let’s break our hooves for the return of the famous Fifty-Fifth!”

Upon the signal provided by the announcement, the crowd reared up as one and roared its approval. “Suh! Suh! Suh! Suh!” they chanted, fierce and determined, chanting the spirit of a hundred wars and a hundred victories. The earth shook with every coordinated stomp; the air pulsated with every cry. “Suh! Suh! Suh! Suh!”

The whitewashed buildings, the dusty road, the stream that could not fit its bed; yet Twilight could not help but be mesmerized, be taken by the untrammeled zeal of the patriots, by the grain-husks now falling like hail from second floors, by the great sun-on-white flag of the 55th just emerging around the corner, bringing tales of valor and deliverance across the great sweep of The Big Tribe…

Melancholy, for the alicorn knew how it was all going to end. Already Celestia's Sun was crowning in the northeast a certain purple mountain, slopes barren and wild – but one day, on that very mountain, would sit the new capital of Equestria, rid of all misshapen buildings, ill-paved roads and trickling streams. Canterlot, proud and strong, would proceed to completely eclipse Ponyville as a trade and political center, leaving the latter to decay over centuries into a barren wasteland, forlornly awaiting re-settlement from its former children…

“Suh! Suh! Suh! Suh!”

A peal of thunder darkly rolled across the azure and sunny skies. Pop… Pop… Pop…

*

“Twilight, Twilight! Wake up, for Celestia’s sake- wake up!”

“What- huh? Spike?” Twilight grumbled, feeling the dragon’s sharp claws dig into her coat and send pain shooting up into her addled brain. “Look, if I’ve- “

Pop.

Twilight's ears twitched. The thunder was real… was it even thunder? It sounded too different, lasted too short… it sounded more like a large balloon popping...

“T-twilight!” Spike’s voice was shaking, unsteady. Pop. “B-balcony!”

Twilight rarely saw the little dragon so scared before, and his fright was fast transplant itself to the alicorn. Pop. “Spike? What’s happening? What’s that noise- ”

“Come- on!” Spike exclaimed, tugging at Twilight’s forehoof, trying to drag her towards the glass doors. Pop. Confused, and suddenly wide, wide awake, the alicorn broke into a gallop, yanking open the balcony doors, skidding to a halt upon the deck.

It was dark outside, the cool air settling over her coat and making her hairs stand even more on end. Ponyville’s nighttime chatter seemed exceptionally vibrant tonight, with somepony making some announcement over a megaphone. But then another Pop, and then – screams?! – coming from the direction of-

“Town Hall!” Spike yelled, climbing on top of the railings and craning his neck for a better look. Twilight quickly dashed to his position, eyes wide open in fear.

Town Hall was still there, illuminated by streetlight orange, but a green smoke was fast obscuring the structure from view. Fresh plumes were making their way up from the ground, from Market Square – buildings and rooftops were obstructing the open space before the Hall, but through the gaps Twilight could see detritus and trash, at least in the parts which weren’t obscured by the crowd were, but-

A green smoke trail arced into the air, and in a second exploded in a shower of sparks, deathly white – Pop – for a split second no other sound existed, but soon screaming as the crowd swarmed away from the epicenter, now fast-filling with a cloud of impenetrable green…

“Tear gas,” Twilight breathed. Unbelievable. “The protest… the police… tear gas… ”

Spike was about to say something before his cheeks suddenly filled up and he blew out a scroll with a burp. A quick glance - “Twilight! No!” he exclaimed, clutching one of Twilight’s hindlegs in a panic, for the alicorn had already stretched her wings out wide, ready to fly towards the chaos-

Twilight started at the sudden weight. “Spike I have to go down there and stop this!” she exclaimed, trying to pry her assistant’s claws from her leg. “Ponies are in danger- “

“No – Twilight – “ Spike said, clinging for dear life as Twilight tried to ease him off, swinging his head in the direction of the scroll in the hopes that Twilight would notice. “Princess Celestia- “

“Give me that!” the alicorn shouted, lunging at the scroll, hapless Spike smacking on the ground like an anchor. Twilight’s heart was beating like mad, mad like never before, she was blinking hard, breathing shallow. Pop – ponies in the distance screaming, trying to get away, the muffled blaring on the megaphone. With shaking hooves, the alicorn picked up the scroll and began to read.

“STOP TWILIGHT

Twilight,

Ponyville situation extremely dangerous – stay away – coming over, ASAP!

Celestia”

“T-twilight?” Spike pleaded, rubbing his bruised scales. “D-don’t… ”

With a heavy heart and a sigh, Twilight put the scroll down, adrenaline coursing through her veins like fire, urging her on. She had half a mind to disobey, but- “The Princess wants me to stay,” she murmured. Another Pop unleashed a fresh cloud of tear gas over Market Square; the screaming was unbearable. “Spike, I- she seems... scared.”

“I…” The shock of what had just happened caused Spike to temporarily fail at speech. “Maybe she’s just… I- “ He flinched again at the sound of another Pop, making motions to return indoors and to safety. “She.. she just wants you to be safe, Twilight.”

“I know… ” Twilight mumbled, viewing glumly the situation so close, yet so far away. Her hooves were still shaking, a bit, but at least she now knew what the danger was, what its likely outcomes and limitations were; she could calm down now – or do something about the situation. “But now I’m supposed to just sit here, and look at… this… happening?”

Pop – scream. That same pony was screaming into the megaphone – for the love of Celestia could that pony please shut up?. Twilight had never been struck with tear gas before, but it likely wasn’t anything pleasant: she shuddered to think about what the situation below was like – confusion, terror, blood… and all while I’m just sitting here, watching this like a movie!

Devoid of all other options, Twilight began to sniffle and cry.

Spike scrambled to her side, doing his brotherly best to comfort the alicorn in spite of his own fears. “Twilight, you know the Princess cares for you – there’d be nothing that would break her heart more than you getting hurt over this… we should go back inside; go back and…” The dragon struggled for words. “Celestia, I hope the Crusaders are all right,” he whispered, for a moment lost in his own thoughts.

Twilight was too upset to even give a response, and Spike’s mind was too muddled to nudge her on. And all the while, green clouds of tear gas continued to swirl and swirl around Market Square, and the screaming carried on into the night.

Chapter 5 - It Will All be Over Soon

Chapter Five – It Will All Be Over Soon

A single golden ray materialized near the Castle roots as dawn broke over Ponyville: slowly it crept up the walls, higher and higher, rising until it reached the level of the library window; suddenly it burst forth, and immediately flooded the interiors with a soothing warmth.

Twilight groaned at the unfamiliar feeling, creaking open blurry and encrusted eyes to find that she was slumped over her by-now dog-eared copy of Regional Histories, the poor book sporting an unsightly splodge that led up to the corners of the alicorn’s mouth through a silver bridge of drool.

The alicorn's head was throbbing; it had not been a pleasant night. “Ugh, Celestia… need to-” Suddenly the memory of what had happened hit her like an oncoming train; she sat upright, feeling her brain shift and turn like a sackful of bricks- “Town Hall!” Twilight yelled out, anxiously…

But everything was calm: just the warm light embracing specks of dust and thread, just the lazy fwap-fwapping of a nearby fan. Thin curtains rustled in time with the morning breeze, and beyond them the land richly illuminated in vibrant colors. There seemed precious little different about this world, and for a moment Twilight believed that the ponies would think and live as they had always done-

“They are still out there, Twilight.”

The alicorn whipped around: Princess Celestia was sitting on an adjacent table, porcelain cup to her lips; a pot of coffee smoldered beside her. She looked unperturbed, and the grace of her poise and the steadiness of her demeanor seemed to Twilight to be like a marbled statue, serenely gazing down on all the curious creatures who came to admire her.

“They’re still out there – the Occupiers, my faithful student. I have ordered the Police to stand down,” the Princess commented, softly, apologetically. “I didn’t want to alarm you.”

Twilight blinked as she slowly processed the information. “Was anybody hurt?”

“Twenty, maybe thirty. No deaths. But those are likely only the serious injuries – the rest have stayed inside, and of course we have no way of divining the situation there.”

The purple mare’s ears twitched. “Inside?”

At this point Celestia sighed, and set down her cup with a nervous clink: outside a songbird chirped, obliviously striking up that tune which all its kin across Equestria seemed to share. “Yes – the occupiers have barricaded themselves within Market Square. The center of Ponyville is effectively a no-government zone…”

“W-what?!” Twilight exclaimed, disbelieving. Tear gas and barricades and occupations – these were hallmarks of societies beyond Equestria, less-fortunate places condescendingly described in newspapers and television reports. For this to happen in pony country, and Ponyville at that- “What can we do? What will you do? I can’t- “

“Twilight.” Princess Celestia held up a golden-shod hoof. “We’ll talk about this later – but for now, you should go clean yourself. You’re a mess…”

The lavender alicorn could feel the white alicorn ushering her out of the Library, feel the Solar Princess’ magic entwining with her mane, gently working out the knots and kinks in her hair. “Stars, dear, you’re a mess – last night, last night must have really gotten to you… ”

Princess Celestia stopped before the door to Twilight’s rooms. The purple alicorn instinctively turned back, and saw that in the half-shade of the morning light Equestria’s sovereign had possessed less of the stoicism than she had earlier presumed: her eyes were sunk, her form stooped, and her lips trembled. Unsteadily the Solar Princess opened her mouth to speak, but something choked off the flow of her words.

The Princess exhaled deeply and averted her eyes. “Twilight…” she began again, ashen-faced. “For what it’s worth: I’m sorry for placing you in this position.”

*

Twilight tried, but she could not wash and she could not brush. The soap suds slipped and slid round and round the drain, and the wildly-flailing water barely flowed before it was shut off once again. Skimming a towel over her dampened form, the alicorn hastened to join the others in the dining-hall.

Spike had prepared omelettes and together the three of them ate in silence. Knives and forks chattered as pony and dragon alike diced up their food with industrial speed, keen to get the whole business over and done with. Twilight, having finished first, began looking impatiently at her other co-eaters, her mind skittering rapidly between angst and anticipation: in moments of lucidity she wondered if all leaders felt thus in times of crisis; she felt bad for them and hoped that Equestria had not played a part in their stress.

Princess Celestia was the last to lay down her cutlery. She had been brooding in silence, and while her face remained impassive as ever Twilight was attuned to the swirls in the wind, the sparks in the air, and the chill that announced darkening skies. While Spike cleared the dishes, the Solar Princess stared determinedly at the table surface; she then got up and, without warning, strode to an empty part of the room. Now her gaze was fixated upon a wall, and once again in her form Twilight recognized the outline of a monument, but now one that had spent an eternity within an empty cave, alone and forgotten.

“Twilight – Princess Twilight – please believe me when I say that I have rarely begged anypony for their understanding before,” the Solar Princess began, uneasiness masking itself as its opposite. Panicked, the purple alicorn rushed to her side; Celestia gave but a passing acknowledgement. “All these years, ponies have either accepted the logic of my benevolence, or else they have not possessed the strength to resist. You know what the result of this has been, Twilight; you know what Equestria is like today, and by no means is it a bad result."

Twilight opened her mouth and attempted to say something, but no words seemed able to come out. What could she possibly say? The alicorn did not want to just answer with a glib 'yes' and seem vapid and uninterested; answering 'no' was evidently out of the question. So like a fish out of water the purple unicorn commanded her lips to seal back up, and hoped that her mentor would graft her best intentions onto the silence.

It did not seem that the Princess was looking for an answer, anyway. "My dear student..." she began again, voice dreamy – Twilight could feel an alicorn's foreleg glide over her shoulders, pulling her close; Celestia felt tense and shivered at the touch. “Do you remember that time when you asked me how Canterlot was built?”

"Um… y-yes," the purple alicorn stumbled, initially taken unawares by the question’s spontaneity; she calmed down and thought about it again, and in light of what she recalled about Old Ponyville the query seemed eminently more reasonable. "You told me about the craftsponies hewing rock out of the hillsides, the magical cranes where two ponies would walk on the treadmill and one would operate the controls... the stone cutters and the wood-carvers brought in from all over the land, and the architect who showcased every pony building style within your new city..."

Celestia chuckled. "Yes, of course you'd remember," she praised, and pressed her student a little closer to her; they maintained their poses for a while longer, and when they finally parted the Solar Princess was ready to reveal her thoughts.

"My faithful student," she began tentatively, cautiously. "This situation is not what I had in mind when I rose you to this position, and I would have done almost anything to stop this burden from falling on your shoulders, had I been more vigilant... but there are things that even I do not have the ability to control, and it seems Fate has decided that you are to preside over this... Occupation." The white alicorn crowned her prose with a wispy sigh, almost resigned in its nature: "For all intents and purposes, I rely on you."

Twilight felt her blood run cold at the mention. "Rely on m-me?" she stammered, feeling the weight of responsibility grind down steadily upon her head.

"Yes: just as I do not intervene in Cadence's affairs and Luna's nightly visits are none of my business, so would it be poor form for me to intrude directly into your Kingdom," Celestia answered simply. "And I think we can assume that your friends in Ponyville form part of that Kingdom.

"But fear not, Twilight," the white alicorn quickly consoled, reaching out to the terrified student. "I won't leave you alone to deal with this. I'll always be reachable in Canterlot, always ready to give you advice and support should you need it; the good ponies at Town Hall too, they are your loyal subjects, they will be there to aid you. We should talk to Mayor Mare - she's holed up in Town Hall now; we can teleport there and discuss the ongoing situation."

"Yes, of course!" Twilight nodded hastily, accepting her mentor's solution as soon as it was proposed; she was only too relieved to hear the Princess' comforting words, to see the steadying smile that now rose over the Solar ruler's visage. No small reassurance it was, the knowledge that however bad the raging storm about her, the Princess of Friendship would always have her sturdy rock to lean upon.

*

Mayor Mare's lair, perched right at the tip of the cylindrical Town Hall, was like a scene from some musty old novel: heavy curtains covered all the windows, resulting in drab yellows and silhouetted browns splayed out everywhere; the heating had run through the night, and the room now felt unseasonably warm. Scattered everywhere were crumpled papers and orphaned documents: in drawers, on the rug, amid armchairs - and in the middle of this sad spectacle was Mayor Mare, prostrate and snoring loudly over her wooden desk.

Vague chatter wafted up from the ponies of Market Square, and in its blurriness the noise almost sounded normal, though of course the real situation was anything but; it was very strange indeed, that feeling of being able to just close one's eyes, clear one's mind and then pretend that nothing extraordinary was happening at all in the town… undoubtedly Ponyville was now going through historic times, but what surprised Twilight the most was that the minutes and hours still felt so painfully… mundane.

Meanwhile Princess Celestia strode over to the oaken desk. "Mayor," she commanded, nudging the sleeping mare. "Mayor!"

The tan pony let out a very unladylike snort. “Huh? What?” she groaned, slowly animating into life. “Oh, ah- Your Highnesses!” she exclaimed, launching out of her chair and hurriedly bowing with her glasses, mane and tie askew – a manner more clown than politician. “Yes, yes, Princess Celestia, and you too, Princess Twilight,” she mumbled, motioning to the chairs before her. "Please, sit..."

The alicorns acknowledged greetings and slipped into their seats. “We continue our conversation, Mayor,” the white alicorn began simply, placing her forelegs together in contemplation. “And from now on, I do not intend to leave Princess Twilight out of the loop. Her participation in this is essential, and I want her informed as to every development. What lies in front of us is indeed a challenge, though not wholly unprecedented; given unity and prudent management, we can see this Occupation off without much trouble.

“Let’s be honest and put this in perspective," the white alicorn continued, rehearsing a speech that she had long ago composed. "There is no question as to the outcome of this Occupation. Ponyville is not important to Equestria; the country does not revolve on the whims of a single provincial town. I will not yield on an issue to which the rest of Equestria has clearly registered assent – especially when a certain segment of Ponyville seems intent on holding the entire country to ransom!” The Princess rapped on the desk to emphasize her point. “This Occupation will fail and we are going to build the Ponyville High-Speed Rail, whatever the opinion of these malcontents.

"That said, I have no intention of suppressing this demonstration through extreme force," Princess Celestia declared, smoothing out a blank piece of parchment before the other two ponies. "Not for me, the methods of King Sombra. In any case, my analysis of the Occupation allows us to defeat it without recourse to violence, provided we manage our response deftly and with skill. So with a view to this-" and the Princess began to write, "-I want to note down three points that I expect the Government to adhere to, in dealing with this delicate situation.

“First and your topmost priority: arresting contagion. We must prevent the Occupiers from gaining broader sympathy, both within Ponyville and in the rest of the country. Obviously there will always exist the stubborn radical who insists on the validity of this form of protest, but the large majority of ponies can be reasoned with to see the light.

“In this vein, you must compete for public approval. I don’t want the Ponyville Government removing protestors with plain brute force: that reflects well on nopony, and the scars will take decades to heal. Time is on our side: ponies need to make a living and eventually this disruption of Market Square will become too much for them; if the occupiers can be goaded into violence, so much the better for us. But we must not concede this ground to our opponents.

"Lastly: everything the Government does must be seen to come from its own initiative. The royal institution will not be associated with the beating and gassing of mares and fillies, and neither will the public appreciate extensive intervention coming from the distant halls of Canterlot. Us Princesses can express our opinions, of course, but Princess Luna and I will categorically deny instructing you on how to deal with this protest; so too with Princess Twilight, although obviously the citizens will expect her to be involved to some extent. But if you dare drag her name through the mud… ” and at this point Princess Celestia’s voice grew sharp and steely- “… then so help me.”

The commands were thus issued: Princess Celestia rotated the finished parchment over for Mayor Mare's perusal, and the quill that had hitherto been held in the Solar Princess’ aura collided onto the surface with an unnatural clack. The white alicorn now reclined back into her chair, eyes turned towards the plaster sky. "Questions," she stated simply.

The room retained its deathly silence.

"Th-these are good proposals, Your Majesty!" Mayor Mare hastily replied, giving the document but the briefest of passing glances. "Yes, they are good indeed, and the Government will of course follow them to the utmost of its ability..." the tan pony cast a concerned glance at Twilight Sparkle. “We will do everything to make sure the Princess' name is not sullied…"

The purple alicorn did not say anything and chose to observe the two ponies sat down before her. Mayor Mare was jittery, sweating: her eyes darted uneasily between the alicorn on her right and the alicorn on her left, and it was quite clear that she worried desperately about their silence, and feared that she had offended one or both of them; Princess Celestia, on the other hoof, remained as serene as usual, if a little colder than what Twilight reckoned of her: she continued to stare at the plaster, dignified and distant, and in that moment Twilight thought that her mentor's form actually more resembled a facade, and that all her poise and words merely formed the covering stone, behind which hid real emotions and real insecurities.

Mayor Mare had said her piece, and as if in response Princess Celestia exhaled, seemingly releasing all the air she had gathered in during the previous minute. "Thank you, Mayor," she said, voice returning to its dulcet tones. "I trust your ability to sail the ship of state during these troubled times, and as I have told Princess Twilight earlier: it was not my intention to place you in this unhappy position. Do you have anything you wish to add?"

"Yes, actually," the tan pony immediately answered, a long-running concern bubbling up to the surface. "We’ve confirmed that Applejack is one of the Occupation's ad hoc leaders. Now Princess Twilight is of course a friend of hers-"

"Yes, of course," Princess Celestia acknowledged, turning her head towards the purple alicorn. "Twilight, I trust you understand what's at stake here – please, don't go to Market Square, not for any reason! We can’t compromise the Government’s stance on the matter..."

"I-I won't," the purple alicorn replied, fully cognizant as to the implications of such an act.

The Solar Princess smiled appreciatively at her pupil’s prompt response. "There. It's not so difficult," she said gently, patting the purple alicorn on her back. "My faithful student, I promise you this – it will all be over soon."

Chapter 6 - Market Square

Chapter Six – Market Square

Did Twilight fully realize what she was getting into, when she agreed to scorn the Occupiers at the Princess' request? Perhaps not - but then again, the lavender alicorn could not quite believe that the task before her was something beyond compare. For the normal rhythm of study would surely save her - words upon words, numbers upon numbers, sweeping away everything before it like an ocean tide, until all that was left of the previous night were shades and distant memories.

Strangely heartened by the thought, Twilight hastened back to the Castle, purging her desk of all unnecessary work; in their place she substituted magic tomes and alchemic scrolls, all standard texts, of the sort she knew would not take much brain-power to digest... and with that, the alicorn sat down, stretched her back and began to read.

But as Celestia's Sun drifted idly by, a strange thing began to happen.

The thought of the Occupation absolutely refused to leave her mind. It sat in the space between the words, and spread along the bottom of every page; the curves on every letter reminded her of the coiling smoke, and amid the scholarly silence she seemed to hear the distant cries of desperate ponies. Simple formulae grew complex and increasingly difficult to read, and the more she focused the more the page turned into a maze of roads and alleys, ethereal protestors and ethereal police engaging in a desperate game of hide-and-seek... panicking, the alicorn drew in the curtains, only to see fire lighting up the Ponyville sky; she stumbled into bed and sought out rest, but immediately felt her blood curdle as her heart thudded to the pop of the dreaded tear gas... Twilight pressed hard against her temples, thrashing about the bed as if she was struck with a bout of the colic. "Please, get out of my head!" Twilight hissed, a helpless beggar as her mind charted on a course of its own.

Celestia darn it - she was the Princess of Friendship! Right now, she should be on the front lines, bringing ponies together and finding a way out of this catastrophic mess! Sure, she might not be as familiar with Ponyville as she once supposed, but she knew the town well enough - knew the ponies well enough - she knew she could be of use, somewhere! Surely she could tell the Occupiers that her presence did not mean an endorsement of their methods! Surely she could tell Princess Celestia that her appearance was the only way this affair could be solved! Surely-

A knock on the door snapped Twilight out of her thoughts. "T-Twilight?" Spike called out uneasily. "Are you alright?"

The alicorn took her time to respond: there was cold sweat on her brow, and after wiping that off she still had to peel away the blanket that had wrapped itself around her, somehow. "Y-yeah," she stammered. "I'm fine..."

Spike was unconvinced. "Can I come in?"

A pained grimace: the alicorn knew what Spike was going to ask, and for that reason she had studiously kept him out. "Spike, I don't-" she began, and immediately erased what she was about to say - it wasn't fair to treat him like this; she at least owed him an explanation. "Actually, why not," Twilight sighed, unlocking the door with a click. "Come in."

The door opened and the baby dragon slowly crept inside. His sickly face looked like he had eaten an entire crate of raw limes, and his scales drooped at their very tips; adjusting to the dim light about the room, Spike's eyes quickly darted around to locate his surrogate sister, sprawled out on the creasy and battered bed. "Twilight... are you really alright?" he whispered worriedly.

The mare let out a wisp of air, eyes focused on the glassy ceiling. "The biggest protest in Equestria is happening a few minutes down the street, and I'm stuck here trying to pretend that it's not there. So what do you think."

Spike brought over a stool and sat by her bedside. "It can't be that dangerous," he remarked.

"It's not so much about the danger, Spike. Princess Celestia thinks I'd be sending the wrong message if I appear anywhere near the protestors. Other ponies might start doing similar things to gain attention."

"Well, I guess that makes sense," the dragon conceded. "But what are you and the Princess going to do, then?"

At that point Twilight felt her eyes moisten slightly, a gust of hot air spewing out of her nostrils.

"Nothing."

Spike was predictably taken aback. "O-oh!" he exclaimed, trying to sound understanding; his slumping shoulders and stooping form seemed to indicate anything but. "I thought..." The rest of the dragon's speech faded into the ether, and for the next few minutes the room was consumed by a total and oppressive silence, and nobody thought of anything at all.

Spike eventually grew tired of playing with his claws, and slowly worked up the courage to mumble once more. "You know, I was listening to the radio the whole afternoon... the protestors weren't happy about your absence at all. They called you some pretty mean names."

Twilight blinked and pretended not to have heard him.

Maybe...

"I had hoped you would at least know what happened to the Crusaders," the little dragon continued, staring blankly at his claws. "Applejack's the leader of the movement, so Applebloom's likely still inside, and I have no idea what's happened to her... oh, Celestia," he groaned, burying his head in his hands. "What a total mess-"

"I have to go to Market Square," the lavender alicorn suddenly declared, rolling off the bed in front of a surprised Spike. "I can't just sit here and do nothing; at the very least, I have to try and talk some sense into Applejack!"

The little dragon paused and looked up, strangely calm despite this unexpected show of defiance. "I thought you were worried about Princess Celestia," he commented, in his heart silently egging the alicorn on.

Twilight Sparkle answered his concern with a smile, a shimmer and a gleam, and as she determinedly threw open the blinds to let the sunlight back in the dragon saw the erstwhile alicorn transformed into another pony entirely, an earth mare with gray coat and crops of chestnut hair. "She won't know if you don't tell her," Twilight drawled, her voice a couple tones lower than usual. She looked over her cutie mark of a single polished stone. "You can call me Pebbleshine."

Spike got up and circled about this brand new mare, helpfully checking for chinks in the transfigured armor. "You should probably wear a sweater or something," he finally advised. "Ponies are walking down the street with clothes on."

*

Twilight-as-Pebbleshine walked down Crystal Street, sweater over her barrel and trepidation in her heart. It was not so much the fear that she would be caught out in public - no, her magic was too strong for that - but more the anxiety that came with disobeying Celestia's orders. It felt like a betrayal, a total disappointment of her mentor's faith in her - but it couldn't be helped! For this was too important a situation for the alicorn to just sit idly by; perhaps the disappointment was just the price she needed to pay for Ponyville to free itself from this mess.

Still, there were other contingencies that the magical prodigy, in her adrenaline-fueled haste, might not have considered fully: what to do if a policepony accosted her and attempted to 'invite' her to the police station 'for some coffee', as the slang went? She'd probably have to teleport away, wipe off her disguise, bolt back to the Castle and hope that nopony recognized her - that said, one could conceivably trace the magic residue... scenarios like these left a lump in Twilight's throat, and a part of her was now audibly regretting her earlier bravado.

Just ahead was the Y-junction between Crystal and Star, with Ponyville Park blooming a block away. Tilting unsteadily on the pavement was a government cart, painted white with big, bold markings spelling out 'POLICE' on every side; before it three policepony reservists were idly holding vigil, huddled and chatting in the shade. They still carried the previous day's riot gear about them, though their helmets had long been cast off; restrainers, aerosol canisters and receivers provided a dash of color amid the menacing black. As Twilight approached one of them saw her and nudged the others as a warning; they all turned and stared sullenly at the newcomer. The intensity of their gaze unnerved the disguised mare, and unwisely Pebbleshine stopped before the trio and stared unblinkingly back.

The policeponies inevitably interpreted this as an insensitive taunt. "Don't you have a riot to be going to?" the one closest to Pebbleshine challenged, a pegasus stallion Twilight recognized immediately as Thunderlane.

"What's going to happen if I say 'yes'?" came the reply, half-question and half-retort.

Thunderlane's face darkened, angry blushes glowing on his cheek. "You want to find out?" he growled, hoof snaking towards his belt.

Both of his partners hastened to stop the stallion. "Thunderlane!" one of them reprimanded, seizing the pegasus' hoof and holding it in place; another turned towards Pebbleshine, trying and failing to suppress an accusatory glare.

"You are well within your rights to participate in that... public event, Ma'am," Amethyst Star muttered darkly. "So long as you stay within the boundaries of the law, and respect police action." She groaned as the duo uneasily guided Thunderlane to rest. "Now is there anything you wanted to ask?"

"Actually, I'm a newcomer to this town and I was hearing things about an Occupation over the radio... I was wondering where the trouble was-"

"Market Square," the light-pink unicorn answered curtly, gesturing to the road running down the side of Ponyville Park. "Crystal and Mane."

With that Amethyst dismissively waved Pebbleshine off, and the mare quickly continued on her way. Pony density increased the further she ventured down Crystal Street, and by the time the alicorn got to the junction with Park there was a steady stream making a right down into Market Square. Spike had observed correctly: the majority of the ponies were wearing sweaters, slight defense against any trouble, and most were traveling in groups; Twilight hastened to join the herd.

She instinctively trotted towards a group of six, seven hooded ponies pushing a small flatbed laden with boxes and tarp, rattling and bouncing as it traversed the cobblestone-laden road. "Hi!," Pebbleshine greeted brightly. "I'm new to this town, and I thought I- Applebloom!"

Hearing her own name the red-maned filly looked past the hem of her cowl: it was Applebloom all right, and as the others turned Twilight could see that the rest of the Cutie Mark Crusaders were present as well - that was not what was concerning to the disguised alicorn, but rather the large patch of gauze that was patched over the little filly's left eye; towards the center the material blossomed a light red.

Applebloom turned her head and looked at this unfamiliar pony, dark bags contrasting with pale cheeks; it looked as if she had been working for the whole night. "Can I help you... Miss?" she asked, stifling a yawn.

"Who are you, anyway?" Scootaloo challenged, thrusting her face into view. "I've never seen you in Ponyville before!"

"I-I... well, who doesn't know Applebloom?" Pebbleshine stammered, laughing awkwardly as Twilight attempted to regain her hoofing. "Anyway, I heard about the ruckus over on the radio, and I came over to see what was happening."

Sweetie Belle eyed Pebbleshine suspiciously before continuing with the task at hoof. "Applejack says we're in for the long haul," she replied moodily, magic enveloping her load as she guided the cart around a corner. "So we've been moving stuff into Market Square for the whole day."

"The whole day?" Pebbleshine asked, trotting beside them and deciding that it would seem more impartial if she didn't help.

"The whole night as well!" Scootaloo added, paddling ahead on her characteristic scooter. "Tents, raincoats, food - all day ponies have been donating things to us, saying how the Government shouldn't have shot at fillies, and that Mayor Mare and all the others should resign!"

The stream of ponies overflowed and pooled at the bottom of Crystal Street, a shifting mass of pastel colors all turned in the direction of Market Square. Rising just ahead of the crowd was a tangled ridge of urban detritus: chairs and desks, loose iron railings, park benches, dustbins, pony mannequins... the clutter, haphazardly piled up, effectively dammed the mouth of the street, and beyond them hid the denuded form of Market Square; a couple ponies were perched up on the crest with bindings and cords, trying to shore up the ramshackle walls in any way they possibly could. This must be one of the barricades that Princess Celestia talked about, and before it the crowd observed and muttered grimly.

"Make way, make way!" Scootaloo yelled, one hoof grasping a megaphone that she had somehow found. "Supplies, supplies!"

The ponies on the barricade looked up and acknowledged the incoming convoy. "Everypony, move over to the left!" Lyra Heartstrings shouted, forelegs swinging from right to left. "Supplies incoming! Move over, please, move!" Hearing this, the crowd heaved and backed away, clearing a path along the extreme right; there was a narrow space between the barricade and the building-wall, and the cart dashed through this gap on with the utmost urgency and ran into the Occupation Zone.

To be honest, Twilight had no idea what to expect in Market Square. She supposed that, judging from previous sit-ins she had seen on TV, the protestors would be sitting in peace circles, hoof-in-hoof and singing flower anthems; but then she remembered the gas canisters and the heavy batons, and she feared the scene to be more like a surgery with rows of dying and dead; that said, the day had passed in relative peace, and with luck the the whole entire affair would be like a family carnival, stalls and games amid the occasional soapbox...

Market Square was devoid of stalls and accessories: ponies carted their goods home at the end of trading, and of course given the current situation they were hardly likely to bring them out again. In the center the Occupiers had erected a shantytown comprising of a few lean-tos and tents, yellowed fabric billowing gently in the breeze; banners draped across a few entrances indicated purpose: "FIRST AID", "FOOD & WATER", "RAINCOATS" and so on. There was a rickety stage up front which, Twilight presumed, served as the soapbox... there was all that, but as far as she could tell there was nowhere for Occupiers to sleep; the few currently at rest were doing so bare on the uneven and scratchy ground, still strewn with debris from the night before. There were a number of ponies who were aimlessly wandering, heads turning to and fro like tourists, no doubt wondering how their town had come to such a fate, but the vast majority of ponies were moving with purpose, zipping between bodies with ladders and rope and other such tools; the few that paused long enough for observation seemed uniformly to be youths, all bedraggled and grimy. They looked like they had lived a hundred years.

"We need hooves on Mane and Lunar," a drawl that could only be Applejack's blared out through a speaker system in the tents. "Idle ponies, go to Mane and Lunar!"

The Crusaders' cart deftly dodged its way towards the tent-cluster as a wave of ponies suddenly cascaded in the direction of Sugarcube Corner. Strung up on the street-lights were slogans and banners bearing the Occupiers' message, and as the wind rippled and stretched the fabric Twilight could read the words which boldly proclaimed their creators' defiance:

Down with Mayor Mare!

High-Speed Rail = High-Speed FAIL!

Harmony Is Not Surrender!

Fight For Your Rights!

"Supplies! Supplies!" Scootaloo continued calling out as the cart now weaved amongst the narrow gaps between tents, ponies hastily jumping out of their way. Her voice, ragged and hoarse from the physical exertion, was punctuated by increasing gasps. "Applejack - Food - Raincoats - Supplies!"

A nearby tent-flap rustled at the news. "Scootaloo- thank Celestia, you're all back!" came that familiar drawl, and Applejack emerged from her lair, bleary-eyed and hatless. Other ponies took over the work of distribution and storage; the orange pony knelt and tenderly embraced her young charges. "Listen: I really appreciate what y'all are doin' - but you need to tell me before you go runnin' off into town - it's still dangerous out there!"

Applebloom rolled her eye good-naturedly. "We're fine, Big Sis'... we're fine! Sweetie Belle even called a policepony a 'spuddin' turtle' to his face, and he couldn't do anythin' about it-"

"What- who taught you to say that?" the orange pony, shocked, swung round toward the unicorn filly. "Landsakes, Sweetie Belle, you can't say that to the police! How am I goin' to explain to Rarity if they put you in jail?"

Scootaloo took umbrage at this. "So spraying Applebloom's eye with pepper spray is okay, but telling a turtle what we think of him isn't?!" the pegasus exclaimed indignantly, pointing at the Crusader's injured eye. "What, is the turtle going to go home and cry-"

"Hey, hey!" Applejack called out, a tinge of authority in her voice. "Look, fillies: I really appreciate y'all workin' so hard for this, and I'm proud as everythin' over what you've done - but you have to be careful! Now go back to the barn - I ain't askin' - and tomorrow you can come back, okay?"

"O-kay..." the Crusaders, visibly deflated at the order, began to turn away and leave, but not before Applebloom puffed up her chest in a fit of sisterly pique. "So, Big Sis', was what we did 'sooh'?" she asked, proudly.

Applejack's ears flicked at the word. "'Sooh'... suh?" she repeated unsteadily, looking at her sister with inquiring eyes. "Where did you learn that? I never taught you anythin' about Imp!"

The red-maned filly grinned mischievously, glad to have gotten the better of her sister as planned. "A nice mare taught me a few words while I was in the medical tent," she boasted. "And now I'm teachin' the other Crusaders about it. But you still haven't told me if I was sooh!"

In spite of herself, Applejack replied with a grin of her own. "Yes, Applebloom, you are super suh," she praised, pecking her sister on the forehead. "In fact, I would say that you are suh as vomit!"

The Crusaders' joy quickly turned into unmitigated disgust. "Eww!" they exclaimed, fleeing as fast as their tired legs would carry them.

The farm pony chuckled. "Fillies," she remarked, gazing longingly at the retreating shadows before turning back to the latest newcomer. "Sorry for the delay: can I help you?" she asked, eyes sizing up the unfamiliar pony before her.

"I-I need to talk to you," Pebbleshine mumbled.

The farm pony's smile disappeared in an instant. "Twilight Sparkle, right."

The alicorn had prepared for many things, but this was not one of them: her slack jaw said all that needed to be said. "Ah, heh..." Twilight let out another awkward chuckle, mortified that her disguise had been so easily seen through - and by Applejack, of all ponies! "Y-yeah."

If Applejack was happy at seeing her friend here she certainly didn't show it. "Uh-huh," she answered, stony-faced as she turned tail and headed back into the tent. "Well, you'd better come in."

Twilight sheepishly followed the orange mare, mind scrambled by the unwelcome turn of events. Obviously from her unfriendly demeanor Applejack blamed Twilight for whatever happened last night - and seeing what happened to Applebloom, the grudge was inevitably going to be very personal indeed. One hoped that her friendship with AJ still meant something, but the best the alicorn could do was toughen up and take whatever the earth pony hurled at her.

"Well, at least you finally decided to stop ignorin' us - guess that's a start," Applejack began, eyes focused on the portable lamp before her. The tent interior was illuminated in a sickly light, revealing a simple bedroll and an empty crate serving as a surface of sorts. "But then I know what it'd look like if the Princess just ran into the Square and started talkin' with us Occupiers in front of all the reporters. Doubt it would have made a good impression on Ms. Niner - Celestia."

Twilight thought she had better set the record straight. "The Princess isn't responsible for this, AJ," she murmured, reverting to her familiar form and quietly praying that she wouldn't be proven wrong. "She stopped the police from firing the tear gas, she didn't order any of it-"

"So I guess that means she was okay with sprayin' pepper into Applebloom's face, huh?" Applejack interrupted loudly, glaring at Twilight with teary, vengeful eyes. "We weren't doin' anythin' wrong, Twilight - we were just walkin' down the street, doin' what we're legally allowed to do, and then suddenly all them turtles start shovin', firin' gas canisters... they tackled all the ponies who didn't get away in time, and sprayed them right in the face... of course, you weren't there to see it," she accused, jabbing a hoof into the alicorn's chest. "So don't tell me what I'm supposed to believe about Celestia!"

Twilight felt a sudden pang of anger at Applejack's accusations, as if the farm pony was accusing her of roughing up those innocent fillies... with some difficulty she suppressed it, and forced it back into her mental safe; she was here to act as negotiator, not as instigator. "I'm not here to fight, AJ," she declared, drawing in deep breaths. "I just want everything to be better - just, just tell me what you want, and I'll see what I can do..."

"What we want? We want justice, Twilight," Applejack declared, pointing defiantly at the tent-flap and the ponies outside. "Those ponies out there, all they wanted was to have T-H change its plans for the Rail... was that such a terrible thing to ask? Can't they just move the line somewhere else, to some other town that actually wants it? But no, Ms. Twofer and her henchponies couldn't even be bothered to give us excuses; they set these turtles on us, and hope that we'll just roll over and let them do whatever they want... well, Ponyville isn't like that!" she shouted, emotions running raw. "We'll roll the camera with T-H, Twilight, roll it all the way if we need to; Ms. Niner may all the power in the world, but if wants to make us obey I guess she'd better use her solar magic and throw us into the Sun!"

Applejack's words rang dramatic and true, and there was no doubt as to the extent of her passion; yet all she managed to elucidate from Twilight was an exasperated sigh; Canterlot was no stranger to such harangues, and whatever impact they had was long lost on the alicorn. Still, the farm pony was talking tough, as she should for the opening stages of a delicate negotiation: given the state Ponyville was in, Twilight was personally fine with scrapping the Rail for the sake of social stability, and certainly whoever ordered the gassing and spraying absolutely needed to be held accountable for their actions. It was another thing entirely, however, to be seen to capitulate so thoroughly to this sort of foreleg-twisting...

"I-I'll see what I can do, AJ," Twilight responded, calmly writing down everything on a conjured notepad. "But you must understand that the High-Speed Rail will bring real benefits to Ponyville. Think of all the visitors that will come in and buy your stuff, the new and interesting ponies who will move into town and bring in all sorts of exciting inventions and ideas; think of how quickly we can go visit all the cities of Equestria - Las Pegasus within a day..."

"Whatever reasons T-H might have had don't matter a lick now," Applejack dismissed Twilight's concerns with a wave with her hoof. "The whole thing's gone beyond the Cabbages and the Peaches losin' their farms to government buybacks, gone beyond all the money we're sendin' to Filthy Rich for this construction - that's all gone away, the moment them turtles started firin' on us! We're not goin' to live under a system that makes these sorts of decisions without askin' us, that thinks it can attack us with tear gas and pepper spray!" the orange pony was shouting again, smacking her hoof into the other with every emphasized word. "You tell the Princess, Twi': all of us here are willin' to be loyal subjects to Her Highnesses... but that doesn't mean she can do whatever she wants! Get rid of Ms. Twofer and the Police Chief first, and we can start talkin' about how to choose our next leaders - and don't think that you can stuff our mouths shut with all your Canterlot buds!"

Twilight's heart sank the longer Applejack talked. There was no way that she could possibly have Princess Celestia agree to these terms! "I'll try to convey your wishes to the Princess... AJ," the alicorn mumbled, speech slowing to a deathly crawl. "But you know there's no way you can beat Princess Celestia... you have no bargaining power with her..."

The farm pony leant back and crossed her forelegs in defiance. "We'll see about that, Princess Twilight."

Appendix 1 - Map

Author's Note

Red 'X'es refer to barricade positions.

[Subject to further alteration, if needed.]

Appendix 2 - Slang Dictionary

Author's Note

[Will update as necessary, and to be honest I can already see a couple of terms that I simply won't have the space to use in the fic. While most of the terms here are derived from Cantonese Hong Kong slang, the underlined terms actually do exist and mean the same things as they do in the fic.]

Prologue - The Egg and the High Wall

Prologue
The Egg and the Wall
The Keyboard Songstress

Flowers all a-bloom,
The smile of the groom,
Those sepia scenes, fond dreams from the past;
The bars of the cell,
The jailhouse’s bell,
Those wonderful days, they’re ending at last…

Some wake from drunken sleep
And think that nothing’s changed;
Some trade their freedom cheap
And replaced with chains-
They’ve put on all their chains-
You’ve put on your chains!

One way, to be the egg that smashes on the wall;
One way, to be the lamb that bleats within its stall!

Fire-bell’s a-ring,
The enemies spring,
Those sepia scenes, they yellow away;
Their uphold-ed spears,
Your terrors and fears,
Those wonderful days, they’re fading to gray…

Too long, naïve, we thought
Our fortune here to stay;
And now, they’ve disappeared
And replaced with chains-
They’ve put on all their chains-
You’ve put on your chains!

One way, to be the egg that smashes on the wall;
One way, to be the lamb that bleats within its stall!

One egg, its lonely fate to bleed against the wall;
More eggs, they bind as one; a push – the wall will fall!

One way, to be the egg that smashes on the wall;
One way, to be the lamb that bleats within its stall…

[Hailing from Ponyville, the Keyboard Songstress recorded this protest song to demonstrate solidarity with local ponies dispossessed by the Ponyville High-Speed Rail Project. Within hours, all her songs were pulled off Equestrian radio, and all venues where she was scheduled to play in cancelled her bookings. The Equestrian Government has not commented on the issue.]

Author's Note

Derived from this Cantonese song which was made on the eve of Hong Kong's protest movement.