The Fourth Tribe

The red light blinked once, twice, three times. A pony sat in a studio, mouth a comfortable distance from the microphone. He would be a curious sight to anyone not used to seeing full-blooded thestrals: he had a long frill down his neck rather than a mane, slitted yellow eyes and leathery wings folded on his back. His signature narrow-brimmed hat lay just askance on his dark grey head. After a second’s pause, he spoke in a practiced baritone that flowed like honey:

“Gooood evening Baltimare, good moonrise to everypony out there, that’s right, we are back after our musical interlude, coming to you live, right to your homes, right to your stables, your barns, your humble abodes thanks to the magic of radio. Remember friendship is togetherness and here on this show we are always, always…” he paused for dramatic effect, taking a lingering breath of the studio’s still air.

“Together,” he concluded, then continued in a fast clip: “But I’m afraid, my friends, I am afraid that my first story of the night is not so happy, indeed it might make a little filly cry because my first story tonight is about the third day of protests in our fine pretty city of Baltimare, which today got ugly indeed. My friends, we saw signs saying everything from “Give our jobs bat!” to “Bat to your caves!” to some which I can’t say over the radio, and you just know they were singing the top hit of this long summer in our city: “Stop the Bats!””

“For our part, our dear listeners in the thestral ghettos got out to counter-protest, but I am afraid, yes I am afraid, we all had to work that night, and a few recently-migrated workers cannot stop, cannot hinder, cannot even slow the angry mob. I’m sure those of you who have listened before will know the usual suspects at the march, you will know that the aluminum worker’s union, the dockworker’s union, the miner’s union, all those champions of the common pony were out there. They say we’re scabs, they say we’re drivin’ wages down, but did they let us into their unions when we came to town? No, they don’t want to see a single bat next to them in their big happy solidarity circle. And friends, do not get me started on our anarchist friends in CAN, I was a little disappointed listening to their show last evening, they didn’t call for my head one time, I’m wonderin’ if I’m losing my touch?"

"It seems like we can never agree here in our fine city no, we can never agree on anything but us. We bats are the only things, yes the only things keeping Baltimare together: the bosses hate us, the unions hate us, and if she were here I am sure Celestia would hate us too. Either way I think I can speak, no, I know I can speak for every single batpony in Baltimare, from the honest dockworkers to the honest gangsters to the Nightmarists up in the caves, I can speak for every single one of us when I say: where is our princess? Where is Luna? Why hasn’t she done anything?”

After a second’s pause, he pinwheeled back onto what passed for his script:

“And that’s it for the eight O’clock news, now we’re gonna have some tunes from our very own DJ Mix Tape, with a smooth-as-silk remix of Countess Coloratura’s hit ‘Razzle Dazzle.’”

The light flickered off. The radio host chomped into a mango.

“Well,” he asked, his voice jolting from radio-host smoothness to the rough tones of a tired reporter, “Think that’ll get ‘em angry enough?”

“Light Narrative, you stupid stallion,” chuckled Mix Tape, an albino unicorn mare with a cracked tooth and a scarred cheek, “Are you trying to get run outta town again?”

“Always happens sooner or later.”

“Well let’s see, with that you’ve pissed off the unions, the Celestia loyalists in city hall, and you’ve probably pissed off half our listeners between badmouthing Luna and that N-bomb!”

“Nightmare worshippers are a significant group of batponies. We can’t pretend like all of us are content to see the moon set every morning like I am.”

“Well, you said the word, so now there’s gonna be tartarus to pay. Any bright ideas for what to do once the mob comes for you, again?”

“Oh, I got an idea or two. Radio hosting was nice but I gotta return to my roots. I think I’ll call up my contacts in the Night Guard, try to get an interview with Princess Luna. Maybe I’ll figure out what’s been taking her so long.”

His colleague snorted. “Good luck with that. I’m staying here. Maybe if you leave by tomorrow night they won’t torch my studio. Alright, I’m live in ten seconds, let’s finish the show.”

***

Luna seldom talked to her sister. They lived in separate worlds, always had, but tonight was important. When visiting the dreams of her subjects she’d seen more and more were from thestrals, from her little ponies, finally coming down from the mountains looking for a better life. Now they dreamt of her coming to rescue them, but they also dreamt of fire, of hatred, of the pegasi and the unicorns and the earth ponies running them out again. The new world was strange, still a little foreign to Luna, but she knew she had to act. Full of trepidation, she knocked on Celestia’s door.

No response. Of course there was no response: it was the middle of the night. She took a step back, shaking her head and talking to herself:

“Bad idea, bad idea Luna, you should come back tomorrow… When you’re tired and can’t articulate… but can you ever articulate to her? She’s Celestia, the Princess of… I mean you’re also Princess of Ponies. But not like her, but... oh nevermind!”

Her horn glowed; the bedroom door swung open. Celestia slept in an opulent yet cozy four-poster, draped in blankets of gold, red and white. Her horn poked just out from the covers, the rest of her form shrouded in swaddlings like a newborn. Luna approached, stopping a couple times: why disturb the princess with her worries? But finally she stood beside her slumbering sister and, glancing back at the door one last time, pulsed her horn to gently rouse Celestia.

Slowly, smoothly, Celestia’s head slid out from the covers, her eyes resting on Luna’s.

“Ah, sister,” she said, yawning, “Have you come to visit me in my dreams?”

“N- No sister,” Luan stammered, “I judged that you would need to be awake. I apologize for disrupting your dreams, they seemed to be quite pleasant.”

“I would need to be awake for something?”

“Yes, for my question. My request? My-”

“You’re sounding like Twilight,” Celestia chuckled, still not rising, “Always searching for the perfect word. What is it, Luna?”

“I would prefer to speak outside, beneath the moon and stars.”

Celestia blinked once, twice, then slowly rose, the covers falling off her towering form. Without another word the sisters started off through the halls of Canterlot castle, passing a few royal guards still on watch, as well as the dark-armored form of Bipen, a pink-coated thestral in Luna’s own Night Guard. Luna could almost feel Bipen’s slit eyes boring into her as she passed her devoted servant, and Celestia glanced back at the batpony as the sisters stepped out into the garden.

The sky was clear that night, with the full moon bathing the garden in a soft, pale glow. The stars reflected the points of light in Luna’s mane, which twinkled in the wan light. The alicorn sisters passed by topiaries and statues in silence, the only sounds the distant hooting of owls, the buzz of crickets, and the soft rhythmic falls of the princesses’ hoofs on the soft ground. Luna liked the quiet, liked the cool breeze blowing through the gardens, and she didn’t speak until they’d reached the hedge maze. With a conscious effort, Luna took the lead and let her sister follow her into the maze.

“The gardens are truly beautiful,” Luna began, “Sometimes when I’m not in the world of dreams, I like to wander this maze and see where my steps take me.”

“It’s been a long time since I came out here, but I’m glad you enjoy this part of Canterlot. I had it made with you in mind: I know how much you loved our old gardens.”

There was a hint of bittersweetness in Celestia’s tone, as there so often was when she spoke to her sister.

“I am… glad you thought of me, sister. I should have walked this maze with you many nights ago.”

“We still have a lot of catching up to do, don’t we?”

“Indeed we do. Alas I… I wish to simply walk these rows until the sun rises and forget why I awoke you, but I…”

Bipen hadn’t moved from her post, but Luna could feel her, Selenite, Cleansing Night, and all the others as though they were standing behind her: they had all been waiting for this night for so long, literally dreaming of it, and she could not put it off any further.

“You can speak your mind, Luna.”

“Well, sister, ever since my return I have been… confused. This new world is very different from the one I left behind, all those years ago. But I have kept my mind open, and with help from my new friends I have learned much, and I think I am ready, sister.”

“Ready for what?”

“I believe I am ready to take a more active role as Princess of Ponies. I understand that thus far you have shouldered the burdens of rule, and you have done a splendid job of it! But-”

Luna felt a wing wrapping around her. She started, but then leaned into her sister’s gentle embrace.

“I’m so proud of you Luna. Of course you can step up. I didn’t want to rush you, but I’ve been hoping you would help out for some time; I’ve been so very tired…”

Luna let the relief wash over her, along with a pang of forlorn regret for what might have been. A thousand years ago she had driven herself mad, believing that Celestia was trying to get rid of her, that there could be only one princess. If only she had trusted Celestia, perhaps… No. Now was not the time: she had silently grieved for half a decade, punished herself for her mistakes time and again. She sunk down into the grass, letting her sister’s embrace still her and saying no more until Celestia spoke again:

“Did you have anything specific in mind?”

“Well sister… yes. You see, it’s the thestrals.”

Celestia tensed up. Luna felt it, hesitated. But then she remembered Bipen and the dreams of her ponies and pressed on. The serenity of the night had been broken, but she had to get this out.

“It’s not right, sister. The way the other ponies distrust them, the way they drove them out. They were my tribe, my little ponies, and I… I failed them. Equestria should be based on friendship but-”

“Of course,” interrupted Celestia, sighing and holding her a little tighter, “Of course it would be this. You’re right, it isn’t right. I tried, sister. They don’t trust me. When I’ve tried to help mend the scars of a thousand years ago, I have only made matters worse.”

Luna felt a hoof under her chin, gently raising her face up until she was looking into her sister’s eyes, inches from her own. She could see the lines care had worn on her face, the deep sorrow in her sister’s eyes, and for the first time she realized how old Celestia had become in Luna’s absence.

“But you are right, Lulu. For a thousand years your ponies have been left out of the circle of harmony. They don’t trust me, but they believe in you. And I do too. If there is one pony in Equestria who can make things right after so long, it is you.”

“Thank you, Tia...” Luna mumbled, wrapping her own forelegs around her big sister, “Thank you for letting me do this. I will do my best.”

“You don’t need my permission,” Celestia chuckled, still holding her sister, “You are as much a princess as I. But you do have my blessing. Do whatever it takes to make this right, Princess of the Night.”

The sisters spoke no more that night, eventually falling asleep in the grass of the hedge maze.

***

Luna took a deep breath. The news of Luna’s meeting with her sister had sent the Night Guard into an exuberant frenzy, and captain Selenite had thrown a party for Luna the moment she’d returned to her regular quarters. The young batpony’s unbridled joy and optimism had been infectious, and Luna had arranged to hold a press conference as soon as her head had stopped throbbing from the keg of mango cider the Night Guard had shared with her.

Now they stood in the wings of the Canterlot press room with her, as giddy as fillies, while the princess rehearsed the speech she’d prepared one last time. Reporters from every major outlet in Canterlot were out there; Luna felt the first pangs of stage-fright as she walked out into the crowded room. She saw one or two reporters she recognized, but the rest blurred together into a mass of expectant faces, with one exception: a grey batpony with a prominent purple frill and a wide-brimmed hat. His yellow eyes regarded her with unconcealed skepticism, and she suddenly felt the enormity of the responsibility she’d shouldered bearing down on her. Selenite had said she’d invited a freelance thestral journalist to the event, one who was controversial but respected among batponies particularly in the Southeast. She cleared her throat three times to buy time, then spoke in the softest voice she could while still projecting, thinking of Fluttershy’s voice and managing to almost balance approachability with authority.

“My subjects,” she began, cursing her sloppy formality and wishing she’d accepted Selenite’s offer to write her speech, “It has come to my attention -yes- it has come to my attention…” Her stammer was accented by a camera flash, dazzling her just as she tried to regain her footing.

“No photos until after the speech!” snapped Selenite at whichever reporter had taken the picture. Luna’s eyes darted from her script, the text blurry to her eyes, and then back to the crowd, seeing the reporters scribbling notes and wondering what they were writing. She felt her voice start to falter, but tried to power through on memory.

“It has come to my attention that the ponies of Equestria are still divided over certain conflicts, over disharmony between… day and night.”

“Princess, Manehattan Globe here, what do you mean by-”

“Save your questions!” barked Bipen. Luna felt her own irritation rising at these reporters: she could barely speak a single sentence without one of them breaking her rhythm! How would she ever get through her speech with them nipping at her heels?

“Yes, well indeed, ahm, do save your questions until the… question… period…” Luna mumbled, then snapped back on script.

“Dishamony between day and night, and specifically between the ponies of day and the ponies of night. I am of course referring to the to the batponies, the ahm, the thestrals. For a long time -for a thousand years- animosity has split the thestrals from the other ponies of Equestria and… it… has…” she trailed off, anxious at the way every single reporter had started scribbling on their notepads at a breakneck speed. Even Light Narrative had taken his eyes off her to jot down notes. What were they writing? She realized she hadn’t spoken for a couple seconds and immediately got back to her speech.

“Equestria is a kingdom founded on friendship, on harmony, and on mutual appreciation of our differences. Thestrals have the same need of love and acceptance that everypony does, the same capacity for loyalty, kindness, friendship, generosity, and laughter as anypony, and they have unique skills and talents which would make them a wonderful part of Equestria’s fabric if we recognized them, if we extended our hooves to them in friendship. I have seen batponies perform aerial tricks which even the best pegasus would struggle to do, I’ve heard them sing notes no other pony can reach...''

She paused for just a moment as she reached the part of her speech she’d cut. It hurt, even after a thousand years, to be unable to say the most important thing the batponies had done for Equestria, the reason their exclusion was the cruellest joke fate could have pulled. But she let that pain stay inside her, held onto it as she pushed through.

“Thestrals should have been part of the Equestrian circle of friendship all along, but we cannot change the past, we can only walk into the future hoof-in-hoof. I address not only the reporters in this room, but ponies across Equestria: I implore you to reach out to the batponies around you in friendship and love, and I am proud to announce the beginning of a campaign of equality and friendship for our thestral brothers and sisters, which will culminate in thestrals taking their rightful place as the fourth tribe of Equestria!”

Luna took a deep breath, then another. She’d made it through.

“Questions, anypony?”

The room erupted into chaos.

“Have the bats made any effort to reconcile with us?”
“They-”
“Shouldn’t we have a say in admitting new races into Equestria?”
“Well, I-”
“Are you sure the thestrals aren’t just mutant pegasi?”
“That’s definitely not-”
“Where is Celestia, does she know about this initiative?”
“Well you see she-”
“What’s taken you so long to act?”
“Can you just impose this on us?”
“Do you really want Equestria to become like Baltimare?”

A flurry of camera flashes left Luna half-blind, the raucous storm of questions blurring together into a cacophony. She tried to stammer out responses, or even just to figure out what questions were being asked, but it was all noise and blur.

“Silence!” Luna shouted, the air reverberating as she slipped back into the old Royal Canterlot Voice. Everypony there froze, staring at her with mouths agape. She struggled to backpedal, she struggled to answer their questions, she struggled to move forwards, and she blurted out:

“I, we, yes. We will have a referendum. Yes, a referendum! That way everypony can come together and- and ah- decide. Yes. No more questions.”

Her royal dignity in tatters, Luna fled the room.

Author's Note

Whooo! Alright, welcome everyone to the wonderful world of Equestria At War. Isn't it great? Anyways the next chapter is already written and is currently undergoing tweaks, so it'll be coming out soontm. Hope to see you then.