Beauties of the Shifting Veil

by Perpetually Confused

Rating: teen
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Death, Alternate Universe, Original Character
Length: 10283

Case file report: Magus (name redacted)

We have, as requested your Highness, have thus established the whereabouts and status of the Magus in question. She has agreed to your terms, as has her host, and we have obtained her report.

We will, after your reading, see said report made public, and make it known it was verified.

On a personal note... I have no idea why anyone lives there.

Published 2018-07-11 23:00:06 UTC
Last updated 2018-07-11 23:00:06 UTC

Mail call

Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot,

Nothing will get better, its not.

-The Onceler

Before I begin my dictive of my audience with the wife (Amirah Leila) of Sultan Azir bal Adid, long life and all good things to him, I first must make clear my position: Both Archmagus Sunbeam and my Queen has had their objections on this matter noted, but I have made my choice: their story is to be told. Both feel such a thing will cause much harm to any alliance, but the Rahj, and Amirah in particular, want any relationship done in truth.

As such, for matters of propriety, I have thus elected to omit my name and status in the Court in general. No doubt the more scholarly and political will no doubt eek out my name, but I beg thee, leave well enough alone. Such an intimate thing as this sees me in blush as is, I hardly need my name bandied about so. And so, we will begin not with Amirah, but with their consort, and what transpired between me and the wives of the Sultan. I have elected also to adjust much of the translated Rahj into a more relaxed Equestrian for the sake of convenience.

I heard a tale, then I danced that night… And saw the world there, in the swirling sand…
………………………………...

I have always been fascinated by the forms of people. My talent, as it were, lays in geography and line work, noticing the details of terrain and places after all, so maps and charts aside, I’ve long considered others, in movement and speech. The subtle movements and muscles in motion, the small smiles or narrowing of brow suggesting deceit or scepticism, a whole grand display in tandem and over contradiction of ones words. The Rahj, in particular, have proven a joy since much of their ways are hidden behind a culture who insists that one maintain poise and even expression, to bear the world with stoicism.

Until one of them is behind closed doors, falls onto a ever weary diplomat turned cuddle buddy whether she wants it or not bed as though she owned the thrice blasted thing, and proceeds to lose herself to rapturous glee over earlier matters, and ruining my bed making.

The first consort, Zanya Nawal Azhar, I can quite safely say was a beauty all onto her own in a land where the fairness flows through a people as the falls of Canterlot. I had, much to my own annoyance, grown quite fond of the mare in my time in Arabia, her form practically screaming she was a thing to be adored. Her coat was an azure blue, much akin to Lady Sunbeam almost white scheme, but where our dear Vizier’s is to add to her ever present aura of power, Zanya’s more docile blue was seemingly designed to calm and please. Her tail, as opposed to what seems the standard of modesty for most of Rhaj mares, was often adorned with a red ribbon around the dock, the color often fading into her black coloring of tail and mane. Her mane, rather then the often cropped short or simple style braid, was allowed to flow and bob in trot as it gleamed in the good health of its keeper.

She was, in contrast to Amirah more stern and commanding frame, a presence of levity and comfort to all, but especially to her family. She took solemnly her duties as mare and mother, and with a grace given through a life dedicated to discipline, still despite her appearance maintained the poise and posture of a consort to the Sultan.

Until she didn’t of course. Which was often. Thankfully she managed to reserve her more affectionate tendencies to the few hours her family had alone, but no where near enough to satiate her hunger to love and be loved. Thus, despite my ever present state of ichor, she had clung to me like a lamprey at times, grating on my nerves like nothing else, but simply being too endearing in these moments for even a stone heart as mine to scold.

And of course, I had brought her current state of nigh unbearable giddy espousing of adoration to her stallion and how he was the best things since sliced bread, chocolate, and mares learning to rutt other mare, and relaying the whole glorious event for the eigth time to a mare who had literally been right there when the Sultan brooched the matter of our numerous night liasons.

“And then he asked me! Can you guess, huh, come on!”

In no other day of my life had I ever thought to be so familar to any royal as to dare, but I found myself eye rolling again as I said in a tone I dared never in Equestria “Why, I haven’t the any notion as to what your stallion had to say. Why, I was literally five feet away, practically sitting on a crate in the slums.”

“He asked if you had been teaching me! I was sooooooo scared the way he was so quiet at breakfast, and the way he asked, I’d never heard him like that, oh I was ready to die! He looks right at me, oh god those eyes, I think they must school them in Sultan school for that, I would bet a hawk no gaze can match his!”

I merely smile and nod, briefly allowing a moment of lewdness as I let Sunbeam’s different colored run through my mind, and taking a thrill in them. Often was the night, I in my distinct lack of care for stallions and ample appetite for a mare in cooing in the night, I let those eyes into my mind. I’ve yet to have the pleasure of course, but as they say, hope springs eternal. Also she’s shameless, so I wouldn’t feel shame in her use. I’ve often wondered how one would approach her on this matter, since I, unlike her, believe one should, by being a mare, maintain a certain standard. Leave the lack of nuance to the stallions, I’ve seen whats there, and find they aren’t equipped for sublety or teasing. But then, a direct approach has charms all its own, and discords knotted rutt stick, she certainly wouldn’t see much a point in any sort of run around.

As I continued in my musings, I compared her and the mare currently rolling onto her back and kicking her feet in the air like a filly, continuing her evaluation of her stud being the stud other studs put on the stud float as best stud as the carry said float in celebration of Stud Day in Studly, the capital of Stud-ington in the great nation of United States of Bonehardia, and considered. After all, all love here is equal, and its hardly like marriage equals fidelity here, and she is quite the looker…

“... And I thought I had disgraced him, Oh I was just sickened with me at the thought… but then he laughed, and hugged, and told me how proud he was! Proud! I was so ashamed with it, he makes me soooooooo happy! And then he asks me if I’d like a book of my own!”

… And remembered that while I would attend the mare in but a second, as much as I found her form alluring and power seductive, as much as I admired her… I wasn’t Sunbeam Sparkle. Maybe she could see things in terms more sound, but I couldn’t do that to Zanya. I’m subject far too much to romanticism for my own good. No matter I never went far in rank. I’m unable to even seek a rutt with a eager to please concubine because I simply found her one to be so easily hurt. She could love… But I didn’t love her. I could sleep with her, be her friend… but it would just cause her pain. I knew beyond a doubt, of course, she’d forgive me entirely and never think of it again, but even with that, the idea I’d have done such a thing to an innocent soul…

Damn it. I swore to do what I could, why is even pleasure such a burden? Why am I so weak? I’m my sires bastard, things will be a bitch as is, so why can’t I do what I need too.

Why can’t I be a mare willing to do what it takes?

“... And then he said it! After I asked for a book on Equestria, he said it would be so, but then he said we would be going there! On a diplomatic journey! I was beside myself, because only his wife is meant for that, but he said we would ask Amirah, but I was resigned in that second to just a book because Ami is a good wife who knows what she should do, so of course she’d say no, and scold me for my silly heart! But she said of course I could go! And she even let me hug her! I get to see Equestria and have my husband all to myself for three whole moons, EEEEEE!”

Perhaps I should, as a matter of clarity, explain Zanya. She is what is called a jawhrat eaziza, a cherished jewel roughly translated. In Arabia, its generally maintained that mares not only be caretakers, the learn a trade or own property, proving themselves reliable and able to offer not merely companionship but use. Zanya, though, was raised to be a companion solely to a Rhaj of high status, a general or even prince, but she lucked out and was found by her Sultan. A eaziza is taught not most mares are, about poise and providing a firm state of support, but that she was to be a source of pleasure solely to her husband.

This does not merely mean shes a concubine. She was taught to sing, to enrapture with tales of old, to lighten hearts and ease a weary stallion and mares of the tending of duties. In this place, its seen as uncouth to show such emotions, a showing of poor qualities and lack of discipline, that one is prone to weakness. But she is allowed to her ways because she was trained to do so. Her life was to be spent in offering respite, and when not in want by her family, to lounge at a estates garden, enjoying a life of idleness and familial adoration.

Not as a mare though. She was to be no companion, but a pet. Nothing was asked of her as her fellows are… because she was meant to be a thing to be admired like a rose, or more like a precious vase. A beauty to be praised… but little else.

When I first heard of this, and that I would be forced to endure some certainly spoiled palace witch, I was resigned to a task of arduous tedium, hopefully done with as little need to trouble my hosts, and thus have any contact, as I could. But then I met her… she of course acted in every way a good consort, sitting with proper posture at the bottom of the thrones with her sister consort Siri, their sister Amira with her usual aloof way, and I expected the Court of Canterlot.

Zanya has become known to me to be one of the most down to earth and honorable people I have met in my travels. She is simply put a mare without a drop of guile or manipulation in her whole body, and is honest to a fault. Not in ways blunt or cruel, but done as lovingly as she can, or not at all. When I felt we were in a ways I could speak of such things, I asked of her lot in life, how she could bear what had been done to her?

“... Because I choose too. I could, if I wished, be bitter and wish a thousand times I was someone else… but why would I want that? I was meant to be. I was raised to be a companion, but I love my mares and stallion. No one makes me love them. I was made to love, and to be loved in return. And I’m blessed to be in such a home, where I’m allowed to love.”

I didn’t understand them… What makes the Rhaj them? Life is struggle, I thought, and weakness is never something to allow for. It is a world made to make mares like Sunbeam and Lady Protector Shadow, stallions like the High Marsal. It was made to be ruled and conquered by Queen’s like the Sisters, and we, those born with unwilling hearts, were meant to serve them. That is what Equestria sees made, the strong, cunning, and willing.

But they aren’t like that. Yes, some are cruel, and based, and do ill on others, but most… are so happy. Not in denial, or simply oblivious like Zanya can be, but because they are. Yes, they bleed, and hurt, and grieve like any other, they aren’t above any of it. But all they do is… raise their family. Yes, many of their customs seem to impose dogma, but its done from a place of compassion. No doubt Lady Shadow would detest the coddling of these stallions… but could she see what I can’t? She is as they, in so many ways… she hurts, even now, but bears it because her children her. If she despairs, then it is so. But she seems so unhappy what few times I’ve seen her…

I was so foolish then, like it was a affront to my senses that they were as they were. What makes them like this? What stops them from being great? This land should be an Empire unmatched, a power. But… they just wish to be left in peace. They’ll trade and welcome… but never speak.

It struck me then how little I knew of the Rhaj. Yes, I was welcomed warmly, and had grew to become like a daughter in their eyes, odd as it seems. The nobles and Court here are so… backwards. Their people see them in such a lax and insulting manner, speaking to them with no deference, as though they were of the common stock. A father and mother were to be respected, but how could they be? My sisters and I had been raised with a firm hoof, I am happy to say. And all the more because of my lineage. He and step mother saw to my schooling and raising without a qualm of my blood, and did it without the Rahj weakening ways.

Why wont they see things as they are? What makes them, I wondered.

You are a mare adrift….

I thought of the Marshal… adrift? No, I knew my place. I had no hope of being more then what I was, and all knew it. I could fuck my life away and it wouldn’t mean anything. I was nothing, as I said. I was content. I had purpose, maybe one day a mare and foal of my own… But hell, what could I offer them?

She spoke my name then, and I realized I’d lost focus.

“My apologies Zarna… just woolgathering…”

“You’re doing it again…”

I then actually looked at her… and cringed. All playfulness had left her, and there she lay couchant, her features ever bit the stern and exasperated matriarch she truly was. I was loathed to be on the end of that gaze, she and I were of an equal age, who was she too act like she was my mother?

“... Please… I know you’re looking now for a reason for anger, to shut me out… Please, I can’t stand that… Not from people I care for…”

Damn it. This was what was most vexing to me in my time there, how open these Rhaj were. It was like Celestia multiplied. She could afford her ways, she was immortal for mercies sake! She was the Mantle of The Sun! She mattered. Everyone else needed to scrimp and scramble just to live, it was the worlds way. We had to be strong, or offer support to the strong It had to be that way… If we weren't, then the pegasus…

A knock sounded through the room, and I arose. Zarna watched me as I walked, her gaze moving with me, and I couldn’t stand her in that moment. Her pitying gaze, as though I was like her. I worked, and worked hard. She… She came to me because she wanted to learn our language, to be of use to her family. She wanted to be more, she said. Of course I taught her all I could, but still….

More.. I paused at the door, and could only shake my head.

Silly sweet Zarna. What more could we hope to be…

………………..

I should perhaps speak of another passion of mine: gazes. Eyes, it is said, are the windows of the soul, revealing great truth. Ponies that one can do that literally, but I’ve found it does little to show deceit, but one can learn of a person in but moments.

I’ve looked into Sunbeam’s gaze… many see her different pupils as a thing unsettling, but I looked without a moments hesitation… and was given her smirk of approval. The good Vizier does enjoy her jest and proddings after all. People say they see a sort of malice in them, but I see only resolve. Ponies are such liars. They speak of morals and justice and her madness… she slaid a foal, what of it? If she had not, what trajedy would have occured? And when her gaze fell on me… she found me the perfect candidate.

And so we come to what brought me here, my task: I was, as per my Queen’s wishes, to act as both envoy and cartographer, offering my services to the Sultan as a token and opening to an alliance. As per Sunbeam’s, I was too evaluate their mettle and culture, and more importantly, their magic. In many ways, theirs were merely ours in function, but…

She was correct. There’s something in them… I can’t say why, but their magic, in both tribes, is drawn from something… else. Not merely from themselves, but from their fellows and this land. But even in parting from it, they did not weaken. It allowed them to wander through these lands with no map or compass, but know exactly where they are and what they seek. I’ve caught glimpses, here and there, but when I look directly into matters, I can’t replicate them. I can create the effect, but it lacks something.

The Rahj are an odd people. Not merely in culture, but in the very way their people function. Their seems to be no tomes or books of their history, but they do seem to have one… but will not speak of it. I knew that the answer lay there.

And thus, my ingress to Amirahs chambers.

I’m was frightened of her, in those days. Celestia, Shadow, Sunbeam, I fear them as well, but none fill me with that manner of dread. Its like, whenever I’m with her, she’s looking at all of me. Like she knows me. Its like I’m a filly all over again, but I’m a mare at the same time. Its not a gaze with Shadow’s haunting blue as sharp as the wingblades she bears, or Sunbeams gaze of hunger in one form or the other, a drive to see her aspirations made real, to crush any in her way, and the promise of a reward for those who aid her. Celestia… just looks sad. Not bitter or cold… like we’ve hurt her somehow. Disappointed.

Amirah… She’s reserved in the extreme, even by Rahj standards. Granted, their is some stigma here with matters of mare interaction, it being seen as a thing of intimacy that should be held in high esteem. Its not merely sex though, not entirely… they see emotions overall in this way. But they warm up unreservedly with their family, at least in private.

Her gaze… Its green is something I’ve nothing to compare to, and I've held hers as Sunbeams. But not by choice. Hers simply forbid it. They hold yours with a adamant will, and in it one is weighed in her balance. I’ve watched many a Janissary and citizen falling into the darkness… how she will not see them again. How she has watched some deed or heard some vileness and would not bear them a moment longer.

She rarely speaks, allowing her actions to do so. She rarely makes any expression, her behavior and ways more that of a stallion then mare, by Rahj standards. She had even been High Marshal for a time, but again, I know little beyond that.

In their Sultans familly, she is the only unicorn. The Sultan and Zanya are both gentle ones, and Siri is a gryphon. How she came here is described as her showing up half dead and passing out onto the dining hall table, and after being healed, simply not leaving. One often thinks the gryphons fearsome, but even Siri quails to her sisters cold presence. They of course have foals, twins by Zarhna and one by Amirah, but she seems to act so distant compared to her fellows. Little Amin seems none the worse for it mind, but still…

Pausing outside her door, I begin to raise my hoof…

“Enter.”

And I can’t help but snicker. I’ve heard this from many a Janissary as well. None walk the halls of her house without her knowing. Grabbing the handle in my aura, I walk into the room. At her desk, the lady sits, eyes roaming over the work table her Amin has brought. The colt in question sits, eyes wide as she checks his work.

He himself takes after his father, albeit in unicorn flavor. White coat with black mane, but he has his mothers eyes. His mother, conversely, isn’t what one would call the fairest in the land. She is crowned with main and tail dusty gold, that much to Zahra’s utter indignation, are simply allowedd to lay about unadorned or toiled much over outside of basic care, and her sand colored coat is brushed enough to avoid tangles. Clothing here is as much null as Equestria, aside from the robed barding of the Janissary and cloaks of the caravan travelers, but it is somewhat expected that the Sultan and his mares be in some manner of finery. The Sultan often sees to his court in the customary vestment one sees in an elder stallion, white silk with a gold sash, but he seems to have regarded the head coverings as unneeded and often goes without save in public function. Siri is presented in her peoples barding, though colored the black and gold of the guard here, and seems to enjoy her scars on display.

Amirah wears nothing. In all the time I’ve known her, not a scrap of cloth has covered her. In her office, I see her armor from her now proven Janissary time, but these ones are the same tan of their mistress, the helm made to cover the muzzle from the sand while its wearer wanders. Unlike the silk over mail chain most Janissary wear, allowing the easier use of the magic, hers is solid plate under hardened leather. I whistle inwards at its meaning.

She’s a Stalker. The concept of war here is largely one of attrition. The whole populace actively engages in mana based wield of their signature curved sabers, and use of their cross bows is a pastime. A stalker, though, is one who uses their lands frequent, often daily, sandstorms in pursuit of raiders and malcontents. They strike and strafe their opponents in the blinding sand, a silent and fearsome spector. This with her Alpha+ ranking…

I take a moment to consider the rest of her room. Its something of a running joke that while the Sultan and his wifes will fuck anywhere, they will never shared a bed in sleep. Her drawers and dressers are, surprisingly, done in Equestrian style, rather then the folded door method their country employs. A few shelves cover her walls, mostly bearing books on law and philosophy. Not much of a dirty script reader I’d imagine. I’d always been partial to Lifts Tail myself… I’ve always enjoyed a good bit of stallion smut.

About the only luxury she seems to allow herself is the occasional gryphon hard liquor (top shelf stuff too.), her garden, and her view. She had chosen chambers giving a perfect view to the setting sun, and for a moment I indulged. Equestrians seem to not have much of a sunset, but here, it always impressed. Pulling my eyes from the scene, I regarded the tableau of domesticity. It seemed strange to have a royal holding me in the same regard as their own foal. Again, I’m not all that older then their own mare, but they treat me as their own.

I at first was somewhat apprehensive at the time. I thought it as though they were grooming me for a consort position, but when I politely refused preemptively, I nearly made the Sultan choke on his laughter. Needless to say, it did my sense of ego little good to have the ruler having fun at my expense, but I’ve come to find his japes have no true bite. Just a bout of Rahj playfulness, as rough as all that is done here.

Little Amin had begun to fidget a touch, pouting as his mothers lifted her eyes to look at him… then her ghost of a smile. She seems to only smile at her family and myself, though again, she has rarely spoken to me, and this is her first summons.

“Very well colt… You’ve done well.”

I wince at her word, and shudder. Her voice is something of a rasp or growl, and even when said warmly, its one that sets the fur straight. Its not a bayotone or deep, but it still carries a stallonish way of it. Its odd to think things in these terms, but one seems to need to in these lands.

“Yes mama.”

Giving a nod of permission, Amirah took a sip of her drink, and gave a throaty chuckle as the colt tried to use his magic to lift his work and books, then with a pout, wrapped a leather strap over then and dragged them out on his back. I gave a nod as he passed, earning a shy nod in return, and watched him as he wandered down the halls.

“I want one…”

A snort of amusement made me face hoof as I realized from it I had said that out loud. Turning back to my host, I sighed at her now wolfish grin.

“He’s mine… have one of your own fucked in you if you want one.”

And now I am graced by her good selfs ever present sense of humor. Seeing her take a hard pull from what I know is something one sips, I shudder. While not ones to have a taste for many a vintage, Rahj are still ones to enjoy a good drink now and again. I’ve never seen one drunk, so who knows how such matters are tended too. Her smile fades back again, but doesn’t fade away… shes smiling at me.

Oh… well, fuck.

Rising from her desk, she makes her way to her window, and I allow myself a moment to take in the view of her… assets. While more lithe and seemingly scrawny compared to our more rotund forms, the standards of beauty for our kin here are slightly different. Stallions are tended to be regarded as the fairer sex, the presence of frame in both mares and stallions in both, with stallions being the more solid and taller of the two. Amirah, despite bearing, seems to retained a proper lithe frame, muscles loose and ready for a bound or swift retreat in the wind, her fur shifting as she turned to the window, and yes, I looked. Okay? She’s gorgeous, leave me alone

Looking over her shoulder, she tilts her head in a jerk.

“To my side, my child. Look.”

I trot hesitantly up beside Amirah eyes tilted up as I reached. Her smile had remained, her eyes now joyful.

“Ahh child, do you hear her?”

I look out over the vista, knowing who she meant.

“Its just an empty desert Amirah… Its says nothing.”

Lowering her head to mine, she gazes directly into mine… I don’t feel afraid, but I do know that I am to obey.

“Shh… Eyes shut, and tell me... Listen, and tell me what you hear.”

I sigh as I shut my eyes, and I cant help but squirm as her breath travels up my cheek to my ear, and the growl of this mare is in my ear.

“... What do you feel?”

“Like a fool…”

Another chuckle, and a maternal nip of rebuke on the ear was my reward.

“No. What do you feel?”

I can only scowl as I begin to open my eyes again, then snorting, closed them again.

“I… the sun. The wind… How should i know?”

“Look down, but keep your eyes shut…”

I did, and for a moment, I heard nothing but my own heart. But, slowly, a soft rustling began to fill my ears. I opened my eyes, and looked at her, grinning.

“I hear something! What is it?”

Smiling, she surprised me with a kiss on the forhead, then looked out over her city.

“She speaks child… Its a special day. Look again, eyes open.”

I did… and sat in shock. Below, the Rahl had begun to flow out into the desert en masse, the excitement they felt palpable, but as is their want, few words spoken. A silent march into the still sand… I bolted up, knowing what such stillness meant.

“Amirah! Stop them, there’s a…”

“Shhh… peace…”

Her lips had come to my ear again, but this time I was to paniced. Lighting my horn, I made to… do something anything. I flinched hard as I felt her teeth in my mane… what was she doing?

“Peace… be still…”

Slowly she began… grooming. It was something that hard largely fallen out of favor in Equestria, seen as a somewhat savage practice, and it made me incredibly…

“We… Amirah, its a storm… We should…”

I can’t help it, I start to sit down again as my body relaxes. She had begun humming softly as she worked. I shake my head, trying to rid a fuzziness I knew I should be feeling… but I knew I was as clear minded as I had ever been.

“That is it dear heart… Ease…”

I draw a breath, then released it slowly. Pulling away, she merely looked at me.

“Better?”

I gave a nod, and looked back to the exodus. All the Rahj had begun to leave their homes and trotted briskly through the streets, eager to walk out into the wastes.

“What is this?”

She lifted her head, and smiled fully. I could only look up. What is this? I was… Numb, I suppose. I was terrified to the point I couldn’t speak, I was watching a people marching to their death, and she just smiled.

“Ahh, hello Mother. Come to say hello.”

A breeze had begun to rustle Amethas mane, and I couldn’t bear it anymore. I stamped and shrieked “Damn it mare, save them!”

And her eyes opened… And were so sad, and happy… tears had begun to run down her cheeks, and I took a step back, stunned beyond words again.

“Don’t you feel it.. Its mothers call… she wants us to dance with her…”

She turned to me again, eyes searching… slowly her smile faded.

“Oh… you don’t know.”

“No, I don’t know what any of this is!”

Sighing, her ears flattened to her skull, and she turned to walk back into the cool shade there in.

“Oh dear one… I’m sorry. I forget myself in my elation. Mother has come this night… but its a good day.”

I leaned against the door frame, shivering as my heart slowed. She was calm again, retreating behind her mask… And had begun to light the braziers of her chambers, her expression unreadable. As she went, I felt… something. I was in the presence of a Rahj casting.

I straightened immediately. This was it… Slowly Amirah moved through the room, a long match in aura as she went, the scent of their perfumed offerings filling the room with jasmine. Slowly, I moved back into the quarters following behind the mare as she went. Leaving the match in the holed lid of the last brazier, she walked to her dresser, and opened them. Looking over her shoulder, she seemed torn a moment.

“I know why you are here… You seek the past thinking you’ll learn a great power…”

I opened my muzzle, ready to offer my objection… then closed it. She nodded at my act, and turned back to the dresser. I knew there was no point lying, now or ever. Her horn lit the inside briefly, and a oak box was lifted from the darkened space.

“... We has no great secret… only a past.”

Placing the box onto her bed, she opened it slowly, as though cautious of what lay within. Finally, it hinged lid flopped back, and she pulled what lay within in her aura. In it, she had a onyx bowl with three clawed feer under it. Extending a thread of mana, she lifted a soft cloth from the box, then began to lay the bowl down. Undoing the draw string, she tilted the bag, bits of coal tumbling down to clatter dully into the bowl.

“My dear… I knew who you were from the moment you stood before my herd.”

At this my ears twitched. Herd. Not family, herd. A word not heard in Equestria since Unity… She merely stood there a moment, and her horn flared, the cloth catching fire in a instant, and let go to fall into the bowl. Laying down across the rug covering the floor, she leaned down to her coals, and blew softly into them. I walked slowly to her… and I lay next to her, cuddling into her side like a foal. She pulled from her fire, looking at me in surprise.
“Tell me. I want to know.”

It had been… so long since I’d lain with anyone like this. It was… shameful. Every part of me said this was wrong, she was Royal, I shouldn’t, can’t, mustn't… I leaned my head against her, and she lay her head on mine.

“I saw you fully from the moment you walked these halls… and wondered at the sad thing we had been sent. We heard the cries in the wind… then silence. A horrible silence. And knew a horrid fate befell our kin.”

“It.... it had to be done. What choice did Celestia have…”

Amira slowly pulled away, and I could only look into the flames… slowly smoke curled up and began to take form… I lit my own horn, trying to gain some understanding… It was… this magic was old. It was like Celestia’s, but carried something… the whispers of what resided there.

“It begins, as all matter do, with the fallen nature of all people…”

The smoke snaked around in bowl a moment, and from it, the little Rahl stepped onto the top of the coals.

“In those days, there was no Rahj. There were our people, aye, but of tribes and bands…”

The small Rahj ripple and pulsed a moment before settling into barding, each bearing skulls and different marking. The three turned towards each other, and I felt a drop in my stomach.

“... And a want to be master of all was there, to relish in carnage…”

The tiny stallions reared up, one drawing twin swords, another a spear, the last an ax, the rough making of them apparent, and lunging forward, on sword slashed a belly as the ax cleaved the owners head. Stumbling back, the gut wound stallion ran the spear through the lasts head, and he toppled back, disappearing in a puff. The last image slumped down, then onto its side, then poof.

“... And to please the mares with spoils….”

The smoke bulged, and two mares ran giggling up to a stallion as he removed his helm, a huge grin in place as he lifted a satchel from his back, his own laughter booming.

And how our my jewels today?

“Amongst other amusements.”

Now the stallion had slid back into the coals, and the two mares had drawn long knives, and a new lump of smoke formed, before settling into a cowering old mare with two shivering foals against her sides.

Which one my love?

Please, I beg you! They are but foals, they….

One of the mares stepped forward, and rammed the knife through the crones throat.

Damn it, I wish I could feel blood with my magic…

Yanking it hard to the right, the nags neck hinged slightly to the left as its owner slumped, the two foals fleeing behind the handler to cling and begin sobbing.

Oh, look! A filly hornless.

Sheathing her blade, the left mare yanked the filly to her by the mane as her brother clung as tightly to her as he could, eyes wide in their despair.

No! No please, Papa said she couldn’t get taken by anyone… What are you going to do to her, stop!

The opposite mare hoof made a dull thump as it struck the colt sending flying onto his back, then to flop onto his side, lifting his head to watch as the mare dragged the filly by her hind leg.

No, help me, please! I want to go home, let go!

The two mare had slip into the smoke, and the little orix sat up, screaming in his agony. I covered my muzzle with both hooves, eyes locked. I’d seen, done, much in the Rebellion. I answered my nation, and had no regrets, but this… Slowly the colts sobs lessened, and he lifted his head, his teeth bared in his fury.

“And so it went… a cycle ever and always, things had a way to return to us in this place…”

Hold that one.

The smoke lifted up again, and it formed into a stallion… the colt now gone, only a cold heart left. Walking up to the two mares sitting shivering, he arched a brow. It was the two before, older, manes and tails greyed, but still streaked with a darker grey I took to mean this hadn’t come about to far in the future

A foal belly? At your age?

The left tried to cover her now screeching with her whole body as the stallion drew a knife.

I came to return this. Aren’t you going to thank me ladies?

One mare was dragged from the other by a barded stallion as their warmaster pressed a hoof to the flailing Rahl before him.

Easy now…. Wouldn’t wanna knick the foal…

I looked away as the knife made a dimple in the grey belly, as the screams became pleas and curses. I couldn’t watch this, I couldn’t. Maybe Shadow could stomach this, but not me. The screams faded, and I looked back, the stallion lifting the wailing foal into the air, his face crinkling a smile.

Welcome to the world little sister.

It was an earth filly. He tore a wall hanging down, and wrapping the foal into it, he chuckled.

Ready to meet you tribe? Always room in our tents for one more. Yes sir, their gonna adore you…

The stallion walked into the smoke, melting into it, and I couldn’t help but let out a sob. I looked back to Amarah… her face was set in stone, eyes blazing.

“Do not dare look away again mare… You are blooded, have slain, do not dare to lose your balls now…”

I looked to the bowl, the filly had begun to grow into a mare, and another colt trotted up, a waif like her. The filly tilted her head.

Are you who I’m going to marry?

Uh huh.

The filly looked down. The colt rubbed the back of his head, biting his lip.

I know… I don’t love you either. I don’t even know you…

He pulled his hoof from his neck, and raised the mares head with it to look at him, smiling gently.

But I’d like too.

She smiled back uncertainly, giving a small nod.

“It was moments of small kindness…”

The smoke had slumped again, then began to form again

Let me through, out of my way damn you lot!

The smoke had collaesced into a featureless wall of Rahl, who stepped aside to a panicked stallion grown colt, his mare smiling up at him, a tiny form to her side.

Its a colt…

The Rahl began to stomp and whoop as the stallion embraced another featureless Rahl from the crowd, laughing and crying as he did.

A colt! A son Jas, did you hear!

“Of lives lived in full, and left without bloodied souls…”

The stallion lay upon a pile of furs and rugs, breathing shallowly as the smoke rose up to coallesce into Rahl… I snickered at how many there were. Apparently he got to know the girl at least a little bit.

Ah my boys… Come to see your father… What a nice thing… wheres you mother, I think I…

The stallions about had begun to cry.

Ah, now none of that. You’re… acting like…

The stallion slowly lowered his head, and simply went still, his eyes still open. The Rahj slowly drew together, and clung tightly as they could, weathering their loss. A family, all earth ponies, all wahid latiff…

“And new atrocities birthed.”

A gathering of Rahl moved through a smoky pass, led by a limping old stallion, one eye covered with a linen around his head.

This way, this way… The wahid are here, as said…

Coming to the end of the pass, he held out his hoof, and the lead stallion smirked as he dropped a cloth bag into it.

And your pay my good stallion. Now, away with you, and don’t spend it all in one place.

Grinning, the old colt had opened the bag, and looked up again from the jewels.

Mind if I buy one of ya gov?

Smiling, the Rahl patted the stallions head.

Ah Stumps… you are truly a fellow of refined tastes. Of course my good man, and at a discount!

Turning his head to the tunnel, he whistled.

Oh colts, do be lambs and see our new acquisistions are properly tended to.

A single file line of orix had begun to file out, a truncheon in each aura.

“Mmm… keep a stallion or colt or two alive. We’re running low.”

I could only shiver as the screams began.

“The wahid became our commodity. Their way with beast and ways to draw bounty from the sands was fuel to our debauch, to keep to our battles.”

The smoke began to form again, this time into a lithe and cooing mare.

“Compliance was kept most often either through temptation…”

The mare slide back down, and another form, this time into a massive stallion, black leather stretched over his obscene frame as skulls clinked from chains on his back,

Move it slugs! On you go, move! Faster!

A whip cracked, and the form slumped down again.

“And terror.”

The smoke had began to swirl over the bowl, and through I could see form rushing past, the shouts of those in a din to my ear.

“And we danced and played in mothers veil, eager to drink our wine as sand caressed us one moment then flayed us another… They were… beautiful…”

I looked back up in horror. She just her usual small smile, and nodded to the bowl. I looked down, and felt both brows raise. The smoke had settled and a stallion stood as he removed his helm, his mane flowing in the breeze. Wow… even I could tell that real him was a looker. Another pulled an ax from a barded form, and trotted to his companions side, muscles taut under his hide.

“No point in denying it… Our stallions do make an impression…”

The two little smoke figure pressed lips, and then began running their hooves over the other, and of course then slumped back into the bowl. I simply blew a strand of mane from my face at that.

“But all these… none can compare with one sin, what follows us to this day…”

Slowly the smoke rose back up, and as it formed, a whooping cough echoed, and a hunched elder former, hacking into a hoof as he clutched his covering over a shivering body as another bit formed into a colt hacking as terribly, his mother rubbing his back with a frightened expression.

“First the elder and foals…”

The two Rahj been shifting and swelling until a mare and stallion slumped back against one another, one rubbing a distended belly while her stallion gave her a brief nuzzle, before beginning his own whoop of sickness.

“And then us all…”

A shriek echoed from the bowl, and a clatter of hooves.

What? What is it

The… its… somethings wrong, ahhh!

“Foals in belly were lost to the disease along a few mares, but most of the stallions returned to hale state…”

A stallion had begun to walk into a tent with a bouquet, but paused as he heard sobbing inside.

“But what befell all of us…”

A wizened mare had begun to put away her various vials and bowls, her face distraught.

I’m sorry child… But…

The stallion dropped his boquet and rushed up to the mare, who covered her face in her hooves.

Get away! I… Just leave me!

Pulling her hooves down, the stallion snarled

Enough! I am not moving a single step until

I can’t have anymore!

The stallion let his mares hooves drop, and slumped back onto his haunches.

What… what do you…

The mare just wrapped her forelegs around and began gasping for breath.

Oh please… I can’t ask you to stay, what use is some barren wretch… But I… I can be useful, I can! I… I can…

The stallion slowly wrapped his arms around her in a hug, and began shushing her softly.

Now, none of that… shh, shh… Its all right… I’m right here, shh…

“... would see to our fall.”

The bowl sucked the smoke back down a moment, and the sounds of crickets began to chime as two stallions walked from their tents, and looked at each other.

Rahim… I…

I know… I had the same dream.

As they spoke other stallions had begun to gather, speaking softly.

“One night, every stallion of all the tribes dreamed of one thing: A voice in the night. To come a specific place and hear an offer.”

The smoke swirled and coiled, and molded into caravans marching into the bowls side.

“Thus came the first Pardon. To ensure peace, it was decreed by every leader from every tribe that all debts, slights, and blood was to be forgiven. A full clearing of the books. It was the first time in all our memory we joined so peacefully.”

A coil of smoke formed into a flickering flame, and began to speak.

Stallions, we the spirits here have heard your cries. Our offer is thus: First the mares shall bear foal again, and then, in but three days, you shall be led to places of prosperity and deep wells. You will grow strong. But we will take a toal. A single mare from each tribe. No more, no less. Still in prime of form, it matters not her fairness. You will return here in the morn with the mare in answer or risk the end of your people..

The flame began to swirl before uncurling to a stallion walking up to his wife.

What is to be done?

I looked to her again, shaking my head.

“Please no…”

“For some…”

I looked back to the smoke oryx, and a mare stood a moment… but a wind seemed to blow her away and swirl into the sky.

“For some… the few remaining perished or were taken in… And the tribes wandered…”

Stallions and mares, head bowed, had begun to walk in place, eyes deliberately away from each other.

“We walked for a time… and settled.”

Clays building had begun rising from the smoke now, tiny Rahj walking between them

“And we found, in each, a wealth and tome of one manner or other, a new way of forging, a cantrip new or made improved, to see our Wahid able to work longer and with less exhaustion…”

Foals trotted up their barded fathers, and though eyes pained, they willing bent heads down to nuzzle each in turn.

“Life began anew… and in each tribe, forged, and grew, and brewed, and tapped the powers arkane and learned much…”

The clay building began to shift, rounding out and smoothing over as many grew taller or replaced entirely. More Rahj moved between, swelling in number, and in moments and library had formed, then what I believed a collegiate.

“One night, the spirits came to dreams… and the stallions gathered with wives alone. And the offered made for another time of prosperity.”

The stallion of smoke looked to his mare.

What is to be done?

The mare and stallion both slid back into the smoke.

“And so it was… all tribes remained, and grew in wealth and power, weapons forged and horns crackled with power… but the thrill was gone. To kill others, was a matter on its own…. But when its ours, and one we know undeserving of whatever a spirits has in mind…”

The smoke rose and formed into a mare and stallion turned from each other, each with a look of revulsion in place.

“And so it came, the dream, the offer. And that time, only a single was sent from a tribe, a represenative and their wife, to hear an offer.”

The mare and stallion looked to each other, and the stallion just sighed.

“The question wasn’t asked, it was foresworn a time ago.”

“In the next offer… each Stallion merely brought a mare. It was known what was wanted…”

The smoke had begun to form again, and this time a colt trotted up to a robed figure. I frowned as I leaned forward…

Hello my colt! Child, what cause such a frown? Today is a happy day!

The colt looked up at the stallion in his way, a thunderous scowl in place.

Whats so fair about it?

The stallion threw his hooves up, and sighed.

Oh Maker! I see you’ve sent a right uppity asshole of a fuck sprout up into my way today! Why, surely none are blessed as we.

Other stallions had begun trotting up, looking amused and snickering.

I do believe Brother Jaw has had again a sip of sin, no?

Lowering his hooves, Jaw blew a raspberry at the lanky stallion.

Ah bugger off you knob chugger. I’ll have you know the Maker has sent me a guest today. I must make him welcome!.

The stallions horn lit up and lifted the struggling colt with a yelp.

Hey, you fuck, put me down!

The stallion trotted down the path, laughing.

First a good hoof scrub and behind the ear, and then we will see to our repast!

You’re one of those colt poofters aren’t you! I know it!

I watched the scene unfold before me eyes furrowed as I remembered those robes. Cult of True Cords. While not much a believer myself, I could appreciate their right to their faith, and even had to admit their usefullness in qualming much undesirable behavior… too bad that the Maker was such a cunt.

“Faith, religion… These things are meant to comfort, to see we contemplate and remember who we are in life… But it caused us naught but pain. Because now we had the terrible affliction: hope. Before, we had nothing. Life was easy to attend because nothing mattered. But now… we know better.”

No

A flame rose from the smoke, and giggled.

Just one mare…

It wasn’t the spirit. It was one of the stallions. The Rahj began to form and clung to each other or covered their ears, begging and sobbing.

Just one mare

Just one…. Its for us all

Yes… Just one

The stallion had finally merely just curled up and began to bellow in pain, eyes clenched as their bodies shuddered in their mental anguish.

Just one… yes

Now the voices had begun to sound like the mares, wives and sisters and mothers… One stallion rose shakily to his hooves.

Damn it Maker, we know! We know you unrelenting fuck, we live in this every day! We’re sorry!

The voices shifted again, this time into the voices of fillies and colts, and the stallions began to retch and vomit, some merely drawing another and shaking in their fear. Now, the voices were those foals who’d died in their… each one knew it was theirs, it wasn’t possible, but it was happening.

Just one mare… Just one. What is ones sacrifice? We deserve our lives…

At this the stallions stilled, and began to rise again, looking at each other.

We… but we did. We just wanted to live, to have good lives… Why was that so wrong?

The flame stilled, and the tinny voice returned.

Three days.

The smoke Rahj began to rise again, the first to do so helping the others, ears flat to their skulls as their eyes looked at nothing and everything. One of the largest, a bruiser and one who had endured much of what conspired, put his hoof to his eyes.

Oh Maker… Oh my sweet mare and filly, forgive me. I… I shouldn’t regret your saving, but what has it cost us? We are us all wretches, how can we dare to even utter our mares name, how can we expect forgiveness? Oh Maker, look not on us, leave us to the carrions! We are filth of the earth, we are no stallions! Dust is all of what we were, all is but dust!

The others walked to the stallion, nuzzling and assuring as best they could, and the stallion merely slumped down fully.

No! I deserve no kindness, I am nothing! I am a wicked thing who deserves any hell! No, the Maker is clear: the wicked shall be brought, and then be no more! I want to be no more! I want an oblivion!

One of his fellows lay over him, and began nuzzling his neck.

We are all nothing… We are all made from dust, and to dust we shall return… But did not the Maker see that we were more?

The stallions slowly sat down, and feeling his brother shift, he looked into his eyes.

We have done a great evil… One we can never repay. We can only ask, and do what the Maker wills. Do you remember what the monks said? How our lives a gift, and to each day be thankful? Well, I’m thankful for my brothers… I’m thankful for all you, to let me be in your life…

The other stallions merely looked away.

We can never undo our sin… but we can atone. Can be better. Can treat our mares, or colts and fillies, as what they deserve. We can be good fathers, and husbands, its what we should have been for so long!

How?

We must be one… Remove your barding my stallions… burn away your body inks and colored chalk and stand as you are, not we allowed this world make us.

The tableu faded back down, then the stallion rose again, standing firm.

My people… we have made a decision. One which, on your honor, you have all agreed to defer to our will. And our will is thus: The Tribes of these lands are to be no more, to never again thunder over the land. We will, this gathering, in time see to the making of our laws… you may come forward and offer your suggestions and input. We are all to leave our settled lands, to return to the sands, and seek new homes as one. No one will, under any circumstance, attempt harm on another, to see foal abused or mare treated poor. We are all of us ones whose life matters… and ones who will see others as being as valued.

We, my people, are now Rahj. We have been ground away from our past to our barest, and as dust return to the Mothers wind. And Maker willing, her winds of chance see us in a place that can bear our hooves.

I stared at the bowl a moment…

“I don’t… I don’t understand.”

I looked back up at Amari. She merely smiles her smile, waiting.

“I don’t understand. They did what they had too… right?”

“Did they?”

I turned back to the smouldering coals.

“Yes! What else could have been done. Its not… oh.”

She lay her head on mine.

“Go on.”

“They could have not put themselves in such a misery in the first place.”

“Hmm.... and?”

“... Its not because it was theirs, thats not the point. You’re saying all life is valued.”

“Am I?”

I looked up at her again, frowning.

“Don’t. I was in the Rebellion. I know what killing means.”

“Do you?”

“Damn it… I didn’t want any of this. I was just… I wanted to make a difference. Our Queen was in need, Magus in training! It was something that me being a bastard couldn’t stop… I could actually earn something! I just had to work had and someday…”

She tilted her head, smile widening.

“Someday…”

“Someday I would be back in the palace envoy pool. Trotting back and forth, up and down, and doing fuck all. And I came back, and my thanks? Nothing. No medal, no title, no hero. I did my part, I killed, I fucking saved ponies, and I get shunted to the back again. Because why?”

“I cannot guess…”

“Because I’m nothing.”

I looked down.

“No… No, I think I get it. I gotta write a letter…”

I rose and rushed out the door.

"Oh child..."

I turned, and she held out a hoof.

"I do believe you owed a mare a dance..."

I looked out the window... and saw the sandstorm was in full form. In it lightning thundered, and the laughter of the Rhaj echoed. I looked back to Amira's hoof.

Miss the pain... Join the dance...

Grinning, I took the hoof. Fuck it.

We danced she and I... With the Rahj, and I saw the world in that storm. And knew what I had to say.

.......................................................

To my dearest Equestrians...

If you've made it to the end, you might wonder what I learned. Or who I am, or was. But perhaps... My ponies, so much has befallen us, hasn't it?

We are all so willing to say, well if such was so, or thy had done, or it is another duty...

But the Rebellion was but a syptom. And if we truly wish to know who to blame.... We need only look in a mirror.

My ponies... I know what we fear. We don't want to upset others. We don't want to make matters worse. We don't want others to think us bothersome, or ungrateful.

We don't want to be left out because we made a mistake, or acted in manner foul. We don't want to be turned at the gate to a friends celebration because they were vexed, we don't want to be seen as unsupportive.

We hate to be hurt. We hate to hurt others. We hate the cold shoulder and being half heard. We hate our woes falling on deaf ear, we hate we must sit alone in a dark life because after rocking the cart, or displeasing another, we were shunned.

The Pegasus were nothing without Luna. So Bright and Nightmare.

My ponies... I will share my lesson.

We, my ponies, are more then dust. More then our hooves, or wings, or horn. More then title, or prestige, or land. We're not our gold, or cutie marks, or status.

We aren't our duties, or past, or lineage.

None of us, my dears, are nothing.

Do you know what you are, hmm?

Why, you, are meant to be!

You, me, all of us, are meant to be. Meant to sing a happy song, to tell a brave tale, to share a gift with the world! We are called above all things to make this world so much more then it could ever be!

Its a sad, mad, bad world we are birthed into, my little ponies
But its so much more then that!

Its a wonderful life we are given, to change the world in ways beyond any we could see!
Lets live ours well! Lets be the ponies who can do that! We don't have to be cruel because the world is cruel.

We don't have to be so scared of life we would rather live locked away.

- A mare in Court