Chapters Equestria At War: The Death of Harmony
Chapter 1 - The Fourth Tribe
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?”
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.
Equestria At War: The Death of Harmony
Chapter 2 - A Friendship Problem
A Friendship Problem
Rarity had always been a Canterlot pony at heart, so it came as no surprise that when the map had lit up Canterlot, it had selected her. She’d known this request would come from the moment the Ponyville Gazette had spilt the story on Luna’s disastrous press conference, so she’d done as much reading as she could even before the map had pinged her. She'd grown particularly fond of reading the columns published over the years by one Light Narrative, a batpony who’d travelled across Equestria documenting the issues his people faced. Twilight had even made her a little almanac for Rarity out of news clippings, spiral-bound and given to her as she’d hopped on the Friendship Express. She’d started reading it immediately, perusing through as the train made its steady progress to Canterlot.
“The town of Fledermaus in the Unicorn mountains is perhaps one of the finest examples of what the new millennium has meant for thestrals,” read one of the columns, published in the Las Pegasus Times some two years ago.
“The once-thriving thestral town has turned to a place of bitterness and squalor in the years following Princess Luna’s return, which was greeted with widespread celebrations. I interviewed two dozen families during my stay at Fledermaus, and most of them had the same story. They’d been excited when their princess returned, believing it meant they’d finally be able to come down from the mountains. Mostly the older ones stayed and the younger ones left, eager to go out and see the wide world which was now open to them. No laws had changed, but the atmosphere had shifted completely, and for the first time the thestrals of this town honestly thought that Equestria was once again their kingdom. It’s amazing what a symbol can do for ponies. Even at the time, some of the older folks knew what was coming, but they told me they didn’t want to stifle their children’s optimism, so they let them go.”
“Some of them made it in Equestria: I interviewed one couple named Arlia and Thorium whose son Pocarona had become a sought-after freelance engineer in Fillydelphia and whose daughter Selenite had joined Luna’s Night Guard, but most were not so fortunate. Time and again I heard stories about arriving in Fillydelphia, Manehattan, that horrible town of Baltimare, or our own Las Pegasus and finding themselves distrusted, interrogated about their religious beliefs, and sometimes outright insulted. Some were even arrested after naively admitting that they were current or former Nightmarists, and though nopony from Fledermaus was ever imprisoned for their religion, they found themselves constantly watched by police. Even those who escaped outright persecution found themselves in low-paying jobs, cheated by dishonest employers and landlords exploiting their ignorance of the big city, had enormous troubles making friends among the three tribes, and almost universally described their living conditions as slumlike. One by one, these pioneers of the new millennium flew back to Fledermaus, wanting nothing to do with Equestria anymore.”
Rarity seldom got angry, but the idea of reacting to new neighbors with suspicion, or to swindle them? She remembered Twilight arriving in Ponyville, sheltered little unicorn that she’d been, awkward and antisocial at first. New arrivals needed welcoming warmth, not hostility! She moved on to the conclusion:
“When they arrived back home, they found that Fledermaus had deteriorated since they left: the mass emigration of the younger generation had hollowed out the once-thriving town’s economy, with over a third of the stores in town shuttering their windows. Today, Fledermaus is a picture of a community which had once survived and thrived on its own, driven into bitterness and poverty by the false hope Princess Luna’s return offered them.”
Rarity was already angry, but reading the pair of letters to the editor which Twilight had pasted alongside the column made her stomach drop a little. This was a new level of friendship problem: the scale of it was unlike anything she’d dealt with before, and there was an undercurrent of deep hatred she’d have to contend with alongside the suspicion:
“This Light Narrative hack is trying to get us to cry for a bunch of Nightmare Moon worshippers who couldn’t make it in the big city. Cry me a river, Las Pegasus is a tough town for everypony! They didn’t like it, so they left. Not our problem.”
“This column shows that Princess Luna should never have gotten it into these bat’s heads that coming to our cities was a good idea. They have their communities; we have ours. They were better off without us, and we are better off without them. Luna needs to tell them to go back where they came from.”
Rarity stopped reading, seeing that the train was pulling into the Canterlot station. The way these ponies had squashed the thestrals’ optimism and then blamed batponies for their own casual cruelty… it infuriated her. This would be a difficult friendship problem to solve, possibly the biggest one Rarity had ever faced, but with her and the princess working together they would change these ponies’ minds, and they would change Equestria!
***
Rarity had to admit, the Night Guard cut an imposing figure. The towering thestrals’ black-and-blue ceremonial armor seemed to absorb the light in the room, and the slit eyes on their peytrals always looked like they were following Rarity, even as the batponies themselves looked straight ahead. She passed between them, heading to Luna’s chambers where she’d been asked to meet her. She took a mental note about their armor: a little too militaristic for what she was going for, but the dress she’d make for the princess should complement the armor of her entourage.
Rarity entered the princess’ room to find her in a truly sorry state. Luna was lying on her bed looking utterly despondent, much as Rarity had done many times. On the other side of the room a short, grey-coated batpony in the same Night Guard armor sat at a desk, her long silver mane tied back into a neat bun as she sorted through a stack of morning papers. As Rarity entered, the batpony stood up and fluttered over to her, holding out her hoof.
“Selenite,” she introduced herself, “Captain of the night guard. You must be Rarity?”
“Charmed, of course!” Rarity shook her hoof, noting the gleam in her slit blue eyes.
“Do you want a damage report, or should I leave you alone with the Princess?”
“Oh, I think I know what we’re up against, but….”
Luna lay unmoving, and both Selenite and Rarity shared a sidelong glance at her. They looked back at each other and nodded, grimacing.
“Well… I’m supposed to be at the drill grounds in a few minutes, perhaps we can meet for tea and I’ll give you the run-down in, say, an hour?”
“That would be lovely darling, ta-ta!”
Selenite turned to salute her princess and left, closing the door behind her.
Rarity, with the practiced ease of someone used to dramatically fainting onto couches, flung herself down next to Luna. Luna gasped slightly and turned to face her, looking confused.
“Now, why don’t you tell me how you’re feeling, darling?”
“I… how I am feeling?”
“Yes, you’re clearly distraught over what happened at the press conference. Tell me all about it!”
“How I feel is hardly the most important part of this. I have failed my people, first by waiting too long to speak up for them and then by saying all the wrong things when I finally did. I am a weak princess, and they deserve better than me.”
“Oh darling, that must feel so horrible! Why, if I were in your position I would be drowning my sorrows in ice-cream and wine.”
“Perhaps I should do that. There seems to be little I can do to make the situation better… I have scuttled my little ponies’ chances with that stupid referendum… I panicked and now they'll all pay the price for my mistake, just like they always do.”
Rarity cupped Luna’s chin, lifting her face up so her glistening eyes met Rarity’s just as Celestia had done. “Darling, that wasn’t a mistake! I’ve been doing some reading, and I think a referendum is just what we need. The thestral’s problem is not that they’re legally unequal, it’s that the three tribes don’t trust them and don’t want them around. A royal decree won’t change that, but I think if we started a national conversation, showed them that batponies aren’t anything to be afraid of, and then had them choose to recognize them as friends, that would really make things better!”
“Perhaps, Rarity,” Luna admitted, her face brightening just a little, “Perhaps you’re right. Oh but we will never win! Did you hear the kinds of questions they were asking? And I can’t- I can’t even get through one press conference, how can I...”
“Leave that to me darling. You have a sincerity, a charisma that’ll shine through in no time! All you need is a new dress, something which brings out your majesty, oh and some coaching, a good script-writer… Oh listen to me Princess, I sound like Twilight! Lists, lists, lists! I need a checklist to make sure I put everything that needs to be on the checklist on the checklist!”
Luna giggled, slowly rising from her bed.
“No no no, you stay here my dear. You’ve had a very rough week and it looks like you haven’t slept in days: a little beauty sleep is what you need right now. I’ll meet with Selenite and take care of everything, you rest.”
Luna dutifully snuggled back under the covers. Rarity stood up and hopped off the four-poster, strolling to the exit.
“We can do this, can’t we?”
“I’m absolutely sure of it darling. Now don’t you worry yourself, get some rest and I’ll come back tonight with a plan.”
***
Selenite had chosen a cozy tea shop in Canterlot for their meeting, in sight of the castle but still a fair distance away. Rarity suspected something was off with the way the batpony had selected a room far towards the back of the establishment; it felt subtly conspiratorial especially with the thin haze of steam which filled the building. It was pleasant, to be sure, halfway between a café and a sauna, but the context of it all made Rarity’s skin prickle a little. Selenite was wearing a deep purple waistcoat over a white dress shirt which had a black crescent-moon sigil on the collar, and was sipping from a small teacup. The outfit was a little austere for Rarity’s tastes, but the color choice complimented Selenite’s coat and her striking blue eyes quite well, and she struck an elegant figure. She made a particular note of the waistcoat, reminding herself to use some of that purple fabric Suri Polomare had plagiarized from her a few years ago for accents on Luna’s dress. Selenite’s long silver-grey mane was let down, cascading over her back and her folded-up wings.
“How ladylike of you,” Selenite greeted her, putting her teacup down and pouring Rarity a cup from the teapot set on the table in their booth, “Arriving exactly two minutes late to an impromptu meeting, to give your host time to get comfortable.”
Rarity smiled, glad her impeccable timing hadn’t gone unappreciated.
“Now,” Rarity said, taking a sip of the tea, which was a sweet brew with a minty base and a small but unmistakable electric tang of zap-apple jelly, “Shall we begin?”
“Of course! So, you said you’d been doing some reading. So you know what we’re up against, more or less?”
“Yes yes, a bunch of ponies who think that everything is fine as it is, who distrust you and your kind, and who think Luna would be better off staying in the world of dreams and away from politics. There also seems to be a nasty, dirty undercurrent where some ponies think you’re a bunch of Nightmarists!”
“That’s about the sum of it. You also have a few thestrals who are gonna be a problem. You got Starry Glory and his band of maniacs down in the Southeast who I swear are trying to start a civil war; they’re a pretty marginal group but very dangerous. Then you also have some more moderate thestrals who still would really rather we stay separate. I get where they’re coming from, I didn’t really want anything to do with Equestria either when I was younger, but now that Luna’s back…”
“I was reading an article by Light Narrative-”
“Oh that’s what you’ve been reading! Well Light Narrative is a friend of mine just um… not the most loyal friend. Okay that’s wrong, I guess he’s loyal to his principles, and he really wants what’s best for the batponies, it’s just…”
“He’s a contrarian who cares very little for Princess Luna?”
“Exactly! Oh, you have been reading his columns, haven’t you? There was a time when he blamed her for everything, I mean can you imagine the nerve? He talks about her like he talks about Celestia as if there’s any-”
Selenite stopped herself, noticing that Rarity’s eyes had gone wide.
“Ah,” the thestral said, taking a long sip of her tea.
"I take it you have no great love of Celestia then?"
"Very few thestrals do. She's never been a princess for us like she's been for you."
"Darling, I know Celestia, I'm sure she's always meant well but just, didn't know how to handle it."
"After a thousand years? Look, you're going to meet a lot of batponies with bad things to say about Celestia on this campaign. Some of it is even true. When I first came to Canterlot I thought she was a bad princess, now... I believe you about her intentions, but good intentions don’t mean much if you don’t act on them. Celestia may mean well but she won’t be much help."
"Well darling, I just hope she surprises you. Kind-hearted ponies do that a lot."
“Perhaps I can share my reasoning about the sun princess... some other time. When we know each other a little better. I understand she’s your friend and you want to defend her but there’s a lot of history you don’t know.”
“That’s quite alright darling, when the campaign is underway and you’re ready to tell me I’ll be all ears. Now, I notice there was one other enemy we haven’t mentioned yet.”
“And who might that be?”
Rarity glanced around conspiratorially, finally at-ease with the batpony after their awkward moment. If Selenite had let slip her distaste for Celestia without meaning to, then regardless of how odd that was she clearly wasn’t trying to manipulate or entrap Rarity. Or if she was, she was very bad at it. From the way she talked she clearly admired Luna and was genuinely trying to help. Rarity decided to let the matter with Celestia slide; when this pony was ready she could share whatever she needed to with Rarity, and there was never a pony better at keeping secrets than she. She leaned in, whispering:
“We’re also up against the most pernicious, the most dastardly enemy of them all. More ruthless than Sombra, more dangerous than an Ursa major, and tricksier than a Changeling… We are up against paparazzi.”
“Ah yes, the tabloid press,” Selenite joined in, “Searching for scandal and intrigue, not to mention embarrassment, oh yes they must be circling like vultures right about now!”
“We shall have to come up with a strategy, and a good one! This is about more than winning, it’s about changing the minds of ponies and we can’t do that if the tabloids turn this into a farce.”
“They’ve already done a lot of damage… Damn cameras, we couldn’t see a thing! How are we supposed to look dignified when we’re blind as… um… bats.”
“I wasn’t going to say it.”
“Well, I did. So there. I get a point. Speed is power, as they say; never react when you can act!”
“As… who says?”
“Luna! She drills the Night Guard personally, we’re her pet project.”
Selenite’s chest puffed out a little and she bared her fangs in a wide grin.
“We’re the best fighting ponies in Equestria!”
“I didn’t know Luna had an interest in military matters.”
“Well,” said Selenite, deflating slightly, “We’re… not exactly supposed to talk about it. It’s not a secret or anything just… It’s complicated. Let’s just say after… Chrysalis… Luna decided the royal guard couldn’t be relied on to defend Canterlot and so she started training us personally. See back in the old times, the Night Guard and the Royal Guard were both elite fighting forces, but nowadays the Royals are more a ceremonial and police force than a real army, and Luna didn’t want to rock the boat too much plus we were kinda new while the Royal Guard is so established and resistant to change. Anyways it’s not really that important. But we’re proud of our training. We can protect our princess from anything!”
“Except for the tabloids.”
“Except for the tabloids.”
“So, we have our weaknesses. What are our strengths?”
“Well… We have the initiative. We get to decide when the referendum is and we get to decide when to start the campaigning. Right now our opponents don’t really have much to go on, but we can fire an opening salvo whenever we’re ready. We’ll be able to get more volunteers since we have something to work for, and they only have something to work against.”
“Don’t forget, we have Luna. Once I get her a new dress, and once we’ve given her a bit of public speaking coaching, I’m sure her charm will shine through! Besides,” Rarity winked, “You also have me!”
“Yes, and if your current dress is any indication, Luna will look magnificent in whatever you come up with.”
Rarity’s eyes lit up. She’d expected the militaristic batpony to disdain her current dress, which was a pink-and-maroon piece with blue jewels along the neckline, but Selenite clearly appreciated craftsponyship when she saw it.
“And actually,” continued Selenite, “I think I have an idea for an opening move.”
“Oh I’m glad our little talk has got those gears whirring in your head.”
“You could say that. I was just thinking… it’s risky, in more ways than one, but what if we have Luna give a speech in Baltimare? That city is…”
“A rather special case, yes?”
“I’d call it the most screwed-up city in Equestria.”
“Wouldn’t it be better to start in Manehattan, or Canterlot, or somewhere else we have friends? So far as I’ve heard Baltimare is all against all and all against the bats.”
“That about sums it up, yeah. And I think that’s why we need to start in Baltimare: that’s where the hatred is at its most… hateful. By starting our campaign there, we could strike a symbolic blow at the heart of anti-thestral sentiment and show the extremists in that city that they don’t run the place.”
“Now Selenite, that’s very bold, but I’m worried about those extremist groups; couldn’t they show up and ruin the whole thing?”
Selenite shrugged, frowning slightly.
“Yes, we’ll have to make sure that doesn’t happen. Here’s what we can do: we coordinate a demonstration in Baltimare with concurrent demonstrations in other cities across Equestria. Between the Night Guard we have contacts in most of the major thestral communities in Equestria, and we’ve already gotten some telegrams from organizers asking what they can do to help. We make sure that the demonstration in Baltimare has police escorts, and keep the Night Guard there in full uniform-”
“Ah,” said Rarity, “We may not want to have a fully-uniformed Night Guard, darling. Your uniforms are lovely, but that might be a step too far: we want this to show the… what are they called? The extremist group?”
“The Coalition of Anarchists.”
“Yes, the CAN. We want to show them that we’re not afraid, and if we go around heavily armoured-”
“It would give the wrong impression, you’re right. Plus it would make us look like some kind of invading army, or like Starry Glory’s goons.”
“So here’s what I picture: we do these demonstrations, to show the CAN that we’re not afraid of them, to bring batponies across Equestria together, and at the end of it we have Luna appear in Baltimare and announce the importance of these reforms, what we’re doing here…”
“And with any luck CAN’s allies in the unions will show up with those ridiculous ‘stop the bats!’ signs. I like your thinking. We showed… weakness in our first press event. We need to show resolve now.”
“Baltimare it is then! I’ll say two weeks' time. That should give us time to coach Luna, figure out some of the details for the referendum, and it’ll give me time to get Fancy Pants onboard and make Luna’s new dress while you coordinate with the thestrals and the Baltimare police to make sure it all goes smoothly.”
“Sounds like you’ll be busy.”
“Oh darling, this is nothing! You should see how busy the boutique gets when the Grand Galloping Gala approaches. Now, I need to contact Fancy Pants. Having him onboard will create ripple effects throughout high society in Canterlot, and those ripples will spread to the elite in other cities; they all like to emulate what’s fashionable in Canterlot and Manehattan.”
***
Selenite stayed in the booth for some time after Rarity left. She could tell she and Rarity saw things rather differently: for Rarity this whole affair was a network, a series of key ponies and groups she’d have to win over. For Selenite it was a war. A war with an enemy who was formless and elusive, whose weapons were apathy, contempt, reflexive suspicion, insinuation. She wanted to act now, to strike fast, discredit the opposition immediately, but Rarity was right: Luna needed coaching, the Night Guard needed allies. And they needed to figure out who their enemies were: the anti-thestral groups in Baltimare were brazen, but Baltimare was one tiny, screwed-up corner of Equestria and elsewhere her people’s problems were much more subtle, and so were the ponies who benefitted from their exploitation.
“Reconnaissance, Selenite,” she muttered to herself, “It’s the first step of every battleplan. What was that Luna’s book said? ‘Before you march into battle you must know yourself, know your enemies, and know your friends.’ Well, now I know at least one of our friends.”
Selenite got up. The sun was about to set, and she didn’t want to miss the moonrise. There was something special about gliding over Canterlot as the sun set and the moon took its place. The way the sun’s rays went from overwhelming yellow to soft orange, the way the shadows underneath her lengthened so rapidly as the sun princess ceded the sky. The moment of emptiness, where both celestial bodies lay dormant. That had always fascinated her: true darkness, for just a moment. Back in Fledermaus this moment was darker still; thestrals had no need for streetlights and little need to light their houses, since they could see perfectly well by moonlight. Here in Canterlot there was a glow coming from below, reversing the order of the day for just a moment before…
The moon rose. A pale light washed over the spires of the castle, giving them an unearthly glow as the light reflected off the polished stone. If the roofs had been painted in indigos and violets rather than the garish Solarist yellows or those unsightly swirl patterns, the effect would be even greater. But Selenite took what she could get, and flew among the spires, basking in the starlight and the moonlight. She pinwheeled, freer than a kite, feeling her dress and mane flap in the wind. The subtle throbbing behind her eyes which always followed her during the day subsided; the constant low level city-noise which irritated her sensitive ears during the day dimmed, leaving her in the cool and peaceful embrace of night. How could anypony not want to bask in this peace?
Selenite found a convenient strut, wrapped her hindlegs around it and folded up her wings. She stayed there for a few minutes, hanging upside-down, mane cascading into the open air and just watching the moon. Once she’d had her fill, she spread her wings and flew to Luna’s wing of the castle. There was much work to be done.
***
Luna soared over Baltimare, her mane and tail glittering in the evening sky. Rarity's new dress was the perfect combination of regal, yet modern. It was a breezy cut, fluttering behind her as she flew, and the colors were a perfect inversion of her own: night blue for the body, matching her tail and mane, and deep purple for the skirt, matching her coat. The accents were done in a violet fabric that seemed to swirl when she looked at it. And the glittering jewels, connected by white lace to form something in between constellations and spiderwebs. It was so perfect, she had actually gasped when Rarity had pulled up the mirror after fitting her into it. The dress, the rehearsing, Rarity’s soft words of encouragement: more than ever, Luna felt like she could really do this.
The sun would set soon, and when that happened she would join her ponies down on the ground. It was inspiring to her to see the hundreds of batponies who had gathered in the streets of Baltimare to see her. It was only a small fraction of the total thestral population of Baltimare -it had been short notice, and they hadn’t wanted the crowd to be too big anyhow- but it was still enough to make quite a splash. From what Selenite had told her, Baltimare was home to the most reviled, the most excluded batponies in all Equestria, and yet they were down there singing songs of friendship, some in Equish, some in Tzincatlian, the language of the southeastern thestrals, which had changed almost as much as Equish since the last time Luna had heard it spoken. Luna could feel the wind rushing against her, and for just a moment she took her eyes off the crowd to soar for a moment, basking in the last rays of the sun. Spreading her wings wide, she focused her mind on her sacred charge, and heard a cheer rise up from the batponies below as the moon rose over the city.
***
Clementine Dewdrop was excited. Her friend Silver Sickle had told her that Cupcake Glitter had told him that the captain of the night guard herself had said that Princess Luna was coming to Baltimare, and Clementine wasn’t about to miss it for the world, even if her back still hurt from the long hours at the dock. The moon princess was coming, here! She’d gathered up a few of her friends and they’d walked along the winding streets to where they could hear a big crowd gathering, singing old songs and no doubt waiting for the princess to arrive.
She was just a couple blocks from the main crowd when she heard a song that was definitely not in Tzincatlian. It was a familiar tune, one she’d heard at least a half dozen times in the last few months:
“Stop the bats, stop the bats, make them go and not come back! Stop the bats, stop the bats, make them go and not come back!”
Rounding the corner, a group of earthponies, unicorns and pegasi rushed into the street and blocked Clementine’s way. They were carrying the red flags of the trade unionists, their faces and cutie marks concealed behind masks and baggy black clothing. Glancing around, Clementine realized there were far more of them than there were of her friends. The two groups stopped, staring each other down with about ten meters between them. One by one, the black-clad ponies started shouting at the thestrals:
“Scabs!”
“Savages!”
“Lunatics!”
Clementine bristled: who were these bigoted communists think they were to try to ruin her night? The batponies started screeching back:
“Commies!”
“Racists!”
“Traitors!”
“Reds!”
The other ponies easily drowned out the batponies, until Clementine and her friends gave up on using words and switched to using the high-pitched shriek which only thestrals could produce to try to drive the black-clad ponies off. A few of them stumbled and faltered, some clasped at their ears, but not enough. There was still a line of ponies blocking their way, and after the screeching had subsided they started lurching forward. She noticed a few at the front with red-and-black bandanas tied around their faces, moving with greater purpose than the others. Clementine realized that these weren’t the regular crowd of angry trade unionists: this was the Coalition of Anarchists, the CAN. The nutjobs. Off in the distance, she heard her princess addressing the other thestrals. The moon had risen during their standoff, and she'd missed it, and now she was missing Luna!
“Oh screw this,” she muttered to herself, and spread her wings. Following her lead, the dozen or so thestals around her took off, hooting and laughing as they left the haters on the ground, cursing after them. Clementine glanced back at them and laughed just as the burly pegasus tackled her from the side.
Clementine’s world spun and blurred. She tried to struggle, tried to kick, but the pegasus was so much larger than her, and as they bore her to the ground more pegasi rushed up to grapple her. She doubled over as a powerful kick knocked the wind out of her, then blacked out when she impacted the ground.
Clementine’s ears were ringing; her head was swimming. She glanced around and saw that only a few seconds had passed. Her friends had turned around and were trying to fight their way towards her, but she could feel strong forelegs wrapped around her hindlegs, dragging her along the ground. Her friends got further and further away with each moment. She tried to struggle, to squirm in any way she could, but felt her wings straining against some kind of binding. Her head spun and throbbed and she struggled to keep down her dinner.
“Why are you doing this?” she sobbed, tears finally starting to roll down her cheeks.
“We’re sending a message,” she heard a gruff female voice reply, “You Lunatics think you can hold a monarchist rally here? In our city? Well you’re gonna be a message to your kind and your precious princess: these streets are ours, not yours!”
“Now between you and me,” she hissed through her mask as Clementine took one last desperate look back, “I don’t know why I’m telling ya this, seeing as you’re not long for this world.”
Clementine screamed. A bright flash struck her eyes, blinding her. She screamed and struggled as the anarchists dragged her down a winding alleyway, then pleaded, promised to do anything, promised to leave and never come back if they’d just let her live, but they just laughed. Eventually the struggling and the begging stopped, giving way to wordless crying.
“Look alive, bat,” she heard after another minute or so of dragging, “Wouldn’t want you to miss our handiwork.”
Clementine craned her neck, terrified but needing to see anyways. What she saw made her start screaming again, her voice raw, thrashing and bucking her entire body with terror. The anarchists had erected a scaffold in the backlot of an old tenement. And at the top of that scaffold was a huge, crude blade, like a giant axe, held up by ropes and ready to fall on a spot where her head was supposed to be, a big wooden beam set to be lowered on top of her so she couldn’t escape.
“Now now,” the anarchist leader growled, “Have some dignity! You’re a stand-in for your princess, you hear?”
Jeers and cruel laughter echoed in her ears as they hauled her up to the scaffold. Then, another sound. Shouts, curses, loud bangs. Clementine’s tormentor dumped her on the ground, leaving her in a tangled heap. Paralyzed with dread, Clementine didn’t move a muscle for almost a minute, as the noises got closer and closer. Finally, she mustered up enough control to turn her head, and saw a second mob of black-clad ponies had barreled into the first and were brawling in the backlot. Some were swinging sticks, others were slinging spells, others bit and kicked with bare hooves.
Emerging from the fray, a black-clad brute of an earthpony loomed above her. He was masked and carrying a truncheon, his steely eyes the only visible part of his face. He wore a heavy black coat embroidered with a red symbol she didn’t recognize. The massive pony reached into his coat and Clementine recoiled, but he simply offered her water. A moment of peace in the chaos. Then, the thunderclap.
“Be still!” she heard a deafening voice call out, rattling her teeth and bones. Looking up, she saw that the night sky had clouded over with thunderheads, and Princess Luna herself was hovering over the crowds like a vengeful goddess, her horn glowing with power. A second passed, and a couple of the stunned anarchists tried to get back to their brawl, or to scamper away, but the princess let out a roar and released a shockwave which buffeted them all to the ground. A disciplined troupe of batponies descended upon the crowd at a nod from Luna, with the Baltimare police department not far behind, grabbing and hauling off the brawlers, while paramedics checked on those who’d been injured. Clementine was left with a half-empty bottle of water as the police took away the black-clad eathpony.
“Hey,” Clementine heard as a grey-pelted unicorn came into view, “You look pretty roughed up. Just stay where you are, we’ll get you to the hospital quick.”
“No,” she mumbled, “Wait a moment. I want…” her voice cracked, “I want to see the princess. It’s why I came here.”
“Alright, five minutes,” the unicorn sighed, “But after that we’re taking you to the hospital, you’re bleeding from your forehead and about three other places, and by the looks of it we’ll need to splint your wing.”
The unicorn set about bandaging her cuts, using magic to dull the pain as he quickly stitched a gash on her hindleg closed, removing the bits of sand and glass which had gotten into it while the mob had been dragging her. She’d been so scared she hadn’t even noticed. Even now she could barely think of the pain, her mind replaying again and again the moments before: how she’d come so close -maybe four meters- from death by beheading, and how she hadn’t thought of any of her friends, or her family, or anything. Only of how scared she was. How much she wanted to get away. Her life hadn’t flashed before her eyes; she’d been too scared to even be her. Then, jarring her out of her thoughts, the princess spoke again. Her voice was shaking with fury, echoing through the lot and probably through half of Baltimare:
“Behold, my subjects! Equestria bleeds with hatred. Is this harmony? Is this what you do to each other when times are hard? You beat each other, bind each other, drag each other to a guillotine over your hatred. Look upon this my subjects and see what happens when you deny ponies among you a place in friendship. You- just because they were batponies, and because of some ideology, you thought they were lesser, you, you are not just the extremists! Every single pony listening, heed me! You may not have been in the mob, but you have allowed this wound of hatred and scapegoating to fester among you, and you have done nothing! ”
The last word was a roar of rage, lightning flashing across the sky as the allicorn’s fury seemed to heat up and distort the very air around her. After another moment, she spoke again:
“To every single pony in Equestria, this is your future if you do not reach out in friendship. Violence, chaos, and hatred. Do you now doubt the need for friendship among the four tribes? Without it, Harmony shall die and Equestria shall die with it!”
There were no cheers. There were no gasps. There was no booing. Everypony there was petrified in awe at the princess’ fury. Only a groan of pain broke the spell and got the paramedics moving again. Clementine was still transfixed by the terrible figure of the princess, whose horn was gathering power for another massive spell. Clementine braced herself for a third thunderclap, but it never came. Instead, the princess of the night let out a wave of raw healing energy over the crowd. Clementine felt it wash over her, slowing her breathing and heartbeat, instantly scabbing over her bleeding injuries and soothing the pain far better than the unicorn medic’s spell. Cradled by Luna’s magic, Clementine knew she would be alright. The visibly exhausted alicorn slowly turned in midair, flying off with her gown fluttering in the wind behind her. The unicorn put Clementine on a stretcher, insisting she stay there until they were able to assess the damage on her legs and wings, and she let them take her to the hospital without a fuss. Clementine had seen death, and she had seen her princess, and now she wanted nothing more than to close her eyes.
Author's Note
Next chapter should be out shortly after May 14th which is my last final of the semester; I'm aiming for May 17th-18th at this point.
Equestria At War: The Death of Harmony
Moonrise
Luna, Selenite and Rarity had picked a suite in one of the nicest hotels in Baltimare, as befitted a princess. The living room was strewn with Rarity’s things, from sewing machines to fabrics to garment plans to mannequins; she’d practically turned the place into a workshop despite them only planning to be there for a few days. A panel of fabric lay on her sewing table, part of another outfit for Luna, this one in lighter lilac tones which would be complemented by a flower garland. Not as majestic as the one she’d worn at the rally, but breezy and suitable for festivals like the Summer Sun Celebration where she wouldn’t be the center of attention.
Rarity had immediately set the panel down on the table when Luna had finally awoken from her twelve-hour sleep, leaving the delicate lacework she was doing half-finished. Luna had exhausted herself with her healing magic, but Rarity had expected her to awaken refreshed. Instead, she looked like death. Selenite was circling around her, looking distressed.
“Ah Luna, you’re awake!”
“I am, yes. I shall be returning to bed shortly; do not trouble yourself, Rarity.”
“But there’s so much to do darling! We had a very big night and we have to, ahm...”
“I’ve arranged a meeting with you and the mayor to deal with CAN, as well as with the police chief,” interjected Selenite, “I’m going to coordinate with the local batpony community leaders, see what we can do and…”
She trailed off, seeing that Luna wasn’t paying attention. She’d walked into the kitchen and gotten herself a pineapple from the minifridge in their suite. Then she started mozying back towards her room, taking a bite of the pineapple as she went.
“Luna darling, is something the matter?”
“Nothing is more the matter than it usually is. Leave me be.”
Luna shut the door behind her, leaving Selenite and Rarity dumbstruck.
“I don’t know what’s wrong,” said Selenite, “You read the morning papers right? Everything is going better than we could have planned for, but Luna…”
“It was a little appalling what happened last night, perhaps she’s rattled?”
“A little violence never rattled her, not when it turns out alright in the end. She’s not rattled; she's despondent.”
“Despondent you say? Well I know how to handle that.”
Rarity levitated a stack of newspapers in front of her and marched up to Luna’s door.
“Rarity what are you doing?” hissed Selenite, “You can’t just barge into her room, she is the princess-”
Rarity barged into her room.
Luna was a barely-visible lump in her blankets, lying still and making no noise. In her fussiest voice, Rarity scolded:
“Come now Luna, what ever is the matter? No no, don’t tell me. I already know. You have decided you are a failure and should wallow in pity, is that right?”
Selenite hovered outside, glancing in but not daring to cross the threshold of Luna’s room as Rarity continued.
“I will take that silence as a yes. Darling, I know all too well what it’s like to want to be alone-”
“So leave me,” came Luna’s voice, muffled and miserable.
“Not until I’ve read the morning paper to you, Luna. You didn’t screw up! Here, I have the Baltimare Express, the Baltimare Enquirer, even a copy of the Manehattan Times I had teleported to me by a friend of mine. Your words are there, verbatim , on the cover of every morning edition, alongside a single photograph of that poor batpony the anarchists targeted.”
The photograph had been snapped at just the right time: somepony had taken a picture, just as the mob had dragged the batpony into the alleyway on the way to their guillotine. She was screaming in the photograph, and even in black and white Rarity could see the tears streaming down her face. It was a disturbing photo, but it was sure to drum up sympathy and alongside Luna’s words it painted an unmistakable picture. Rarity tried to show it to Luna, but the princess had her face buried in her covers, so Rarity made an exaggerated sigh and read the column from the Manehattan Times out loud.
“After giving a little rundown of the events and reprinting your words to the mob word-for-word, the front page of the Manehattan times has this to say: ‘While the majority of the violence seemed to be perpetrated by fringe groups and details are still emerging as of publication time, one thing is abundantly clear. The brutality in Baltimare proves that we need friendship between the four tribes now more than ever.’ The four tribes, Luna, they’re already saying four tribes! Anyways, then they say ‘It also vindicates Princess Luna’s previous calls for us to reach out to our batpony neighbours, as well as her more recent condemnations of inaction in the face of what is clearly a crisis in the making.’ See Luna? You have to stop thinking you’ve made a mess of things even when you really haven’t!”
Luna’s head peaked out from under the covers.
“That’s… really what they said?”
“Oh Luna darling, that’s what they’re all saying! I’ve already received a telegram from Hoity-Toity asking how he can help, I expect by tomorrow I’ll have a whole stack of them! Fancy Pants was already onboard, but now he’s issuing a grant for Light Narrative to set up a studio in Canterlot itself. Even one of the communist rags, the PON party newspaper, has spoken favourably of your intervention and condemned CAN as violent extremists.”
“Rarity, I yelled at everypony; they do not like it when I yell. Twilight told me not to yell, but I got so angry when I saw what was happening that I couldn’t help myself… Why have they not ridiculed me again?”
“Twilight doesn’t know the first thing about drama!” Rarity exclaimed, “She always tries to make rules, rules, rules, but it’s all about context, dear: context and presentation! At a press conference, shouting will get you nowhere, but at a riot? Darling, a little bit of divine wrath was exactly what was called for. Oh the way you punctuated your excoriations with that thunderclap, it was magnificent. Simply magnificent.”
“You never shy away from yelling at us during training,” Selenite chimed in, finally overcoming her hangups and crossing the threshold into Luna’s room, “And it works. See, it’s all about when you’re soft and when you’re hard. Like in your book.”
Luna was silent. Rarity and Selenite glanced at each other, trying to anticipate what she’d say next. At a nod from Rarity, Selenite finally spoke after several tense seconds, saying something she’d wanted to say for a long time:
“My princess, I understand that you’ve made many mistakes, and that makes you think you can never do anything right, but that isn’t true. You didn’t screw up: your words and the horrible things that happened last night have finally shaken Equestria out of its complacency; you’ve gotten ponies to actually give a damn for the first time in centuries. Rarity believes in you, I believe in you, so many thousands of batponies believe in you. So Luna, can you please trust us and believe that you’re worth believing in?”
Luna remained silent for a few more seconds.
“Thank you,” she finally said, still not showing her face to the ponies, “It is… difficult, but I will try. If time remains before this appointment with the mayor however, I really must sleep. I spent all of last night battling other ponies’ nightmares, for that is the one thing I… the one thing I thought I was able to do. I told you to leave me be so that I could wallow in misery, but I do genuinely need sleep.”
“I’ll wake you in a few hours,” said Rarity, leaving the room.
“Sleep well, your majesty,” said Selenite, bowing as she left.
***
After Luna had awoken from her much-needed rest, she launched into a flurry of action: she’d had Selenite give her a crash-course on Baltimarean politics, issued a royal decree banning CAN as a terrorist group, met the mayor to make sure that ban was actually enforced and that the victims of the riot would have help getting back on their hooves, then accompanied Selenite to liaise with some of the thestral community leaders she’d been talking to. It was the longest any princess had been in Baltimare in 12 years, and it was creating quite a hubbub. There were only a couple ponies left she needed to meet at this point, and the one she sat in front of now was probably the most important piece of the puzzle: police chief Lavender Berry.
“I would like to apologize again for my department’s failure to prevent the events of last night,” Berry said, ignoring the black coffee in front of him. His desk was immaculately organized, as was every other part of his office, but the sheer quantity of files, cork boards, cabinets and bookshelves made it cramped, especially for one so large as Luna. With his one good eye, the brown-coated unicorn regarded the princess with a stare as glassy as his other eye, which had a milky white patch in place of a proper iris and pupil. Despite its blindness, his bad eye stayed perfectly focused on Luna as he continued:
“I misjudged the situation, I am afraid. I was under the impression that the most likely threat would come from large numbers of TER-affiliated trade-unionists picketing your speech, not from anarchist radicals accosting batponies on the way to see you. I am afraid I underestimated the extremism of CAN, something I thought impossible at the time.”
“Selenite has suggested to me that you couldn’t have prevented the attack even if you’d guessed correctly at where the threat was from,” Luna said, sipping her own coffee. It was the most horrible stuff she’d tasted in a while, but she figured with the way this campaign was shaping up she’d have to get used to bad coffee. Berry’s good eye wandered slightly, his blind one remaining fixed on Luna.
“I am afraid your head of security is correct, your highness. My department has been most understaffed as of late, thanks to the efforts of CAN’s allies in TER. Had it not been for IES, we would not have arrived in time to save that poor thestral’s life, I am afraid.”
“I have already spoken to the mayor. He’s promised to increase your budget to hire new officers. Now I must ask, what are these acronyms? You are the expert on these groups, I take it?”
“I am. I’ve been monitoring those groups for some time. CAN stands for the Confederation of Anarchists, TER for the Trades of Equestria for Reform, a sort of radical trade unionist group with considerable influence over the various unions in Baltimare and ties to CAN. IES is Internal Enforcers of Security, a Stallionist group under the auspices of the larger Stallionist PON, the Ponies Organization of the Nation, which seeks to get those other two groups under control. IES hates the anarchists at least as much as they hate the monarchy.”
“So all these groups are communists. Excellent; perhaps we can ban IES as well. I presume TER is too influential to ban outright?”
“Yes, TER is too influential, and I am afraid I must caution against banning IES. IES is highly disciplined, and nopony knows who their leader is. Hunting them down would stretch my department even further, and they would resist violently. Your highness… may I speak freely?”
“Of course; you are the expert out of the two of us.”
“A rise in Stallionism at the expense of the… other groups,” he said the last words like he was describing some bloated pustule, “Would not be a bad thing. IES are...”
“IES are thugs.”
“True, but they did save that batpony’s life. And they do a lot of work to keep the anarchists in check. Stallionists are quite a different breed from anarchists, your highness. They take inspiration from Stalliongrad, which is a country of laws, albeit communist laws. They are procedural, and detest chaos. I could not ask for a more well-behaved group of dissidents and rabble than the Stallionists. There is also the issue of PON, a more moderate Stallionist group who would be radicalized if we banned IES after they did what was by all accounts a heroic rescue.”
Luna considered. The unicorn was right: coming down hard on everypony involved would muddy the message and overextend Berry’s police. From what little she’d heard of Stalliongrad however, she didn’t want to give their agents free rein over Baltimare.
“How about this, your highness,” suggested Berry, snapping Luna out of her thoughts, “You ban CAN, we do what we can to undermine TER, and we leave PON and IES alone. In fact, I’d recommend issuing a pardon for the IES members picked up at the riot, considering they were protecting their fellow ponies when my officers were sadly unable. It would also drive another wedge between them and the other factions. Once the referendum passes and I have some more officers we can turn our attention to PON and IES.”
“I have to admit,” Luna said, “I do think it’s fair to let the IES ponies go. I’ll speak to the mayor and see if I can get the charges against them dropped. Between the three of us I’m sure we can make it happen, and if that stalls out I can issue a royal pardon.”
“Excellent. There are two more things. First, my department is sorely understaffed, and even with increased funding the amount of procedures we have to go through to hire a new officer can take months before they are even put into training, thanks to TER’s meddling in politics. Similarly, our ability to procure certain equipment, including tear gas to disperse riots and the equipment needed to operate in the jungles around Baltimare, is severely restricted due to more meddling. I believe that in the next few months, Starry Glory’s Duskfall Defence Army will try something.”
“Is that a thestral group?”
“It is. I don’t take sides, your highness, I am a police officer. Glory’s DDA is the most dangerous group in the region aside from CAN, and they have allies among the gangsters within the city although their main operating base is somewhere out in the jungle. With the current procurement restrictions, we would be unable to respond if the DDA disrupted the referendum.”
“Why would they do that, if they’re a thestral group?”
“Glory’s… fanatics… they believe the Southeast is theirs by some ancient right of conquest, and they want to see everypony else here from the citizens of Baltimare to the Neighua of the forbidden jungles gone. They couldn’t care less about your campaign, except as an opportunity to exploit.”
Luna stiffened. Ancient rights of conquest, not ancestral homeland. Had they truly not forgotten, after all these years? Of course not. The Night Guard had boasted often of their families’ martial heritage, or of how they’d kept “the old ways” alive through the generations. But to see those “old ways'' turned into a rallying cry for an extremist group… Luna shook her head. It would be for the historians to count the ways Equestria was still paying for Luna’s mistakes. If she tried, she would never be able to stop, and she would never be able to heal those wounds.
“Of course, chief Berry. I will meet with the mayor again, see what we can do to cut a bit of the ah, red tape.”
“Thank you very much, your highness. My department will not allow another incident like this to happen. Now, I am afraid I have an anarchist to interrogate. We believe we’ve identified the pony whose idea it was to murder that poor batpony in the first place, and I intend to see to it that she tells us everything she knows.”
“Best of luck, Lavender.”
***
The days and nights after the riot had been a blur for Selenite. Meeting with the mayor, the police, the Night Guard, Luna… she was dead on her hooves, but before the princess departed Baltimare, she had one last pony to meet.
Clementine Dewdrop was her name. She’d been in the Baltimare General Hospital for the last three nights, convalescing from the injuries she’d suffered in the riot. Selenite held a cluster of lilacs in her teeth, walking slowly into the ward where an earthpony nurse attended to Clementine. She was a large batpony, almost the size of Bipen, with an orange mane and dull yellow coat which made the source of her name obvious. She looked small though, covered in the hospital blankets, a cast wrapped around her left wing. Batpony wings were even more delicate than pegasus wings, and to have them bound up and dragged along the ground… Selenite was glad they’d gotten to her when they did.
“Clementine Dewdrop?” Selenite said as she set the flowers down on the bedside. She noticed a trio of violets had been left in a vase; evidently someone else had already visited Clementine.
“Yes, that’s me. Are you with the press?”
“No, I’m Selenite, Captain Selenite. Would you mind giving us some privacy?”
The nurse nodded, departing.
“You’re with the Night Guard, right?”
“I am, yes.”
“What do they want with me?”
“Oh, I’m not here on Night Guard business. I just… wanted to say I’m sorry. It was my job to make sure nothing bad happened at the rally, and I failed.”
“We knew what we were getting into. They really hate us here. There’s no way we were going to make things better without at least some of us getting hurt.”
“You’re right, I guess. Is your wing going to be alright?”
“Yeah, I should be flying in a week or two. Hey, Selenite… I don’t want to be rude, but I’ve had quite a few visitors. I’ve become a bit of a celebrity and I don’t like it. Do you have anything you really want to ask?”
“No, I don’t. I think I’ve said what I needed to say. Just know that if you need any help, like if there’s any kind of treatment you need, that costs something, just send a telegram to the Lunar wing of Canterlot castle. Let them know who you are, and it’ll reach Luna, and the princess will take care of you. Don’t you worry.”
“Thank you,” Clementine said after a moment, a weak smile crossing her lips, “Actually, there was one thing I wanted to ask you. I don’t remember it that well, but… was that Luna I saw, conjuring those thunderclaps and the healing wave? Or was that…”
Selenite sighed. Of course. She felt a twinge inside her, seeing the confused emotions play across Clementine's face.
“It was just Luna, Clementine. The sun still comes up every morning, doesn’t it? I haven’t seen her that angry since… well, ever. But that wasn’t Nightmare Moon.”
Clementine looked relieved, but a little crestfallen.
“She’s not coming back, Clementine. And if she did… well, we should cherish our princess,” Selenite said, at least as much to herself, “I know she hasn’t done everything we hoped she would, but you have to understand she barely even spoke the language when she returned. A lot has changed in the last thousand years, and she… she has a lot of guilt over what happened back then. She couldn’t help us the way we wanted her to; she needed to help herself. But now she’s back, she’s really back, and she’s ready to lead us again. We have a princess, Clementine. All the other ponies take it for granted, but now we have a princess too.”
“It was pretty amazing to get to see her. And yeah, I guess you’re right, I just… I wish she had finished helping herself a little sooner. It’s been really hard these past couple years. It’s… strange. You talk like she’s a normal pony, but she’s not, is she?”
Selenite smiled.
“She is. But… she’s also not. You would have to have been around her for a long time. There’s so many sides to her. There’s the pony, the princess, the moon…” Selenite trailed off.
“And the Nightmare.”
“And the Nightmare.”
There was a long pause, both batponies staring out at the setting moon.
“I think you had better go. You look exhausted, and I bet the princess will be needing you soon. Besides, I’m supposed to go to sleep once the moon sets.”
“Of course. Remember, if you need anything…”
“The princess will help. Goodbye, Selenite. Thank you.”
“Thank you.”
***
After that, the three departed Baltimare and made their winding way across Equestria; they planned to stop at each major city in Equestria as well as several large but isolated thestral towns to rally local organizers, coordinate with them, and take their suggestions for how to make thestrals feel welcome in broader Equestria. The referendum would give them a mandate to implement legal changes, as well as cause a few immediate changes, but its power would be mainly symbolic. The three got most of their more concrete ideas from talking to organizers, and they had all kinds of suggestions.
The organizers ranged from wizened moonspeakers, to young and idealistic activists, to sympathetic lawyers, to angry tenants, to batponies who’d made it into more traditional spheres of organizing: one of the most helpful was Fructose Lemon, a thestral who’d become vice-president of the Tall Tale electrical worker’s union. Unlike in Baltimare, the trade unions in Tall Tale didn’t see batponies as presenting a zero-sum competition but as fellow workers and had actively worked to provide job training, educate thestrals on their labour rights, and to unionize as many as possible. If the other syndicalists across Equestria could be swayed to be more like Tall Tale and less like Baltimare, he explained, they could do immense good.
One by one, the organizers told the three about their hopes for the future, from symbolic concessions to legal changes to the institution of new cultural and educational events to economic reforms: when a lot of thestrals spoke about what made them feel excluded, it was as much about housing and work as it was about being formally recognized as a fourth tribe. Many of the ideas were unexpected to Selenite, who had been living a rather privileged life as one of the princess’ retainers. Many batponies also shared their feelings, how hopeful they had been feeling in the last couple weeks since Luna had exploded onto the national stage.
Luna, for her part, mostly demurred from such praise, but the change which had come over her was palpable: between Rarity’s encouragement, Selenite’s speechwriting, and the confidence her ponies placed in her she had come to speak confidently, and had grown more comfortable in the public eye than ever before. Sometimes conciliatory, sometimes angry at stories of injustice, it seemed Luna was able to get through to ponies like nopony else could, whether in person or on the radio. At each stop, support swelled, and the three heard stories of ponies reaching out to their batpony neighbours, inviting them to community events, tenant union meetings, town halls, inviting their foals on play-dates. Across Equestria, batponies found themselves treated like friends and neighbours rather than outsiders for the first time.
After visiting Stableside, Rockville, Las Pegasus, Tall Tale, Whinnyapolis, Vanhoover, and Bales, they had wrapped around and come to Manehattan. Its large batpony population and the cosmopolitanism which defined the city meant there were many ponies sympathetic to batponies and willing to help; indeed it was one of the few places where most ponies truly saw thestrals as neighbours like any other. At the same time, Manehattan was a place of massive inequality, lax labour laws and generally fragmented social networks, which meant that many batponies were economically depressed, and their communities heavily policed.
***
“And… I think that does it,” yawned Rarity, “Darling, I have gone over this speech three times; I don’t think we’re going to get it any better than it already is.”
“Are you sure?” asked Selenite, her eyes closed, “I feel like it needs a bit more… a bit more…”
“More oooooomph,” chimed in Luna, half asleep on the hotel bed in Manehattan, “It needs so much more oomph at the end.”
“Hmm… show them what true friendship is, perhaps? Fight for thestral friendship? Fight anypony who would dare call this friendship? I don’t know, Lulu, maybe…” Rarity trailed off, “Maybe we should talk about this in the morning?”
“It is morning,” said Selenite, glancing at the grandfather clock in their room, “11:15 to be exact.”
“Oh, you know what I mean…”
Rarity had initially had a difficult time adjusting to the nocturnal nature of her two companions, but over the course of the campaign their sleep schedules had blended together into a swirling haze of coffee, impromptu naps and sudden collapses. Rarity and Selenite had gotten used to wrapping blankets around each other, or around the princess on the rare occasions when she fell asleep at a desk, but this time it seemed the three of them had all reached their limit at about the same time. After a few more half-hearted attempts at revision, Rarity and Selenite sauntered off to bed, actually making it for once rather than falling asleep in their chairs like usual. But it wasn’t their own beds which they wandered into but Luna’s, and when they realized their mistake they heard a soft cooing from the princess and decided to stay.
Rarity knew she’d made the right decision when she felt Luna’s wing drape over her, soft and warm. It gently pulled her in, pressing her to Selenite as the feathers tickled her coat. Rarity wrapped her legs around the tiny batpony, holding her close as Luna embraced them both with her wing. Selenite let out a tiny, high-pitched sigh, pressed in between Rarity and Luna, burying her face in the Princess’ starry mane. Rarity felt that same warmth inside her that she felt after drinking a mug of hot cocoa and swaddling herself in a fluffy blanket after a day at the spa, and let that feeling overtake her and slowly ferry her off to sleep. With the princess of dreams holding her through the night, Rarity dreamt of floating castles and of white feathers falling like snow.
***
Selenite was the first to awake. Snuggled against her princess, the warm feathers and Rarity’s legs cradling her, she felt like a foal again cuddled up against her mother and father. It had been so long since she’d seen them; she had to add Fledermaus to the stop list even if it wasn’t a very important town, just to tell them how much had changed. Feeling Rarity shift behind her, she pricked her ears and heard the tiniest gasp from the unicorn. Ever so slowly, not wanting to wake the princess, Selenite turned in bed. Rarity started retracting her legs, but Selenite held onto them and faced her friend. The dressmaker's eyes were wide when Selenite met them, but her shock softened when she saw the warm smile on Selenite’s face.
“Good evening,” Selenite whispered. She drank in the scent of Rarity’s rosewater perfume, coming so close she could feel Rarity’s breathing and hear the beating of her heart.
“Good… evening.”
“I don’t think you realize how special last night was,” said Selenite, “Or how special you are.”
“I, ahm,” Rarity stammered, “I don’t know what your customs are but I regularly share a bed with my friends, I just…”
Selenite shook her head, softly speaking into Rarity’s ear and wrapping her legs around her: “Not me, Luna. She can dispel other ponies’ nightmares and give them the sweetest dreams like she just did for us, but she has terrible nightmares of her own. Other than one time with her sister, she’s slept alone until tonight. She barely ever touches anyone, and she's always scared. Luna’s changed so much since meeting you, she’s becoming more alive, more like…” Selenite trailed off.
“More like her old self?”
“Yeah. I didn’t know Nightmare Moon of course, but I always knew there was something wrong with Luna. The way she recoiled, the way she always waited, blamed herself… I’m not sure she even wanted to be happy. I tried so hard to reach her, we all did, but we never could. I guess being her sworn protectors, there was always some distance… I don't know.”
“Darling are you asking me something?”
’“No. I’m… thanking you. For being you.”
Selenite squeezed Rarity a little tighter, feeling a rush of affection for her.
“Just being near you is all we needed. Thank you.”
***
Rarity had never much cared for Prince Blueblood, not since his behavior at the Grand Galloping Gala a few years ago. So far as she was concerned, when she thought of him at all, he was one of the few ponies in Canterlot who managed to strike that delicate balance between aristocratic fop and ill-mannered boor, tied together with unmatched self-importance.
So when he’d invited her to tea with himself and Chancellor Neighsay at the exact time Luna would be giving her speech, she’d almost dismissed it out of hoof. Who cared if they happened to be in Manehattan; she had nothing to say to Blueblood and she was surprised he even remembered who she was. Then she’d remembered that Neighsay was a very influential pony with power over the education system, and given that was one of the main institutions she and Luna were going to have to change it would be best to get him on their side. Why this scholarly pony was hanging around with a nopony like Blueblood, Rarity would never know, but she couldn’t pass up the opportunity to meet with Neighsay. But when she met them for tea that afternoon at a small yet chic cafe, something told her they weren’t there to make friends.
As he floated a cup of tea towards her, Rarity realized she may have underestimated Blueblood. First of all, he would never have poured her tea at the Gala. And there was a certain expression on his face that she couldn’t quite place, but had a hardness to it that she’d never expect out of the foppish prince. He wore a simple vest, white and golden-yellow, with a small red rose on his lapel. Neighsay sat back, slowly sipping his own tea and not looking directly at her. As she sat down, Blueblood cleared his throat and spoke:
“Rarity,” said Blueblood, his voice as pompous as ever, “I’m so glad you could join us; I’m afraid we got off on the wrong hoof all those years ago, but I thought I’d reintroduce myself.”
Rarity couldn’t shake her suspicion, but she extended a hoof out across the table and he shook it.
“I’m Prince Blueblood, and this is my esteemed compatriot Chancellor Neighsay of the Equestrian Education Association; one of the finest sorcerers in all Equestria and a close advisor to Princess Celestia.”
“Charmed, truly!” chimed Rarity.
“As am I,” said Neightsay, his gruff voice contrasting with his sweet words, “It is so fortunate that I have an occasion to meet the designer of some of my favourite outfits.”
“Which of course would imply that the purpose of the occasion is not to meet your favourite fashion designer?”
“Excellent attention to detail,” Neighsay said with a wry smile, finally setting down his cup and making eye contact, “I see you’re all business today, Rarity.”
Rarity smiled. “Oh I wouldn’t quite say that, I’m never all business except the night before a fashion show. There’s always time for pleasantries and fun in my life.”
Blueblood chuckled, then took a sip of tea. Rarity took a sip as well, savouring the delicate flavours of the brew: nutmeg, a little vanilla, and even a pinch of hazelnut over a smooth black tea base.
“So,” began Neighsay, “I presume you know why we are here?”
Rarity regarded him, seeing herself reflected in his pale turquoise eyes. She decided to waste no more time dodging the issue.
“Of course,” said Rarity after a moment, setting her teacup back down, “You wish to persuade me to stop helping Luna on the thestral issue, isn’t that right?”
“Not so much persuade you to stop as give you some friendly advice on what you’re getting into,” said Blueblood, “And perhaps… get you to adjust your approach a little.”
“Ah, my mistake. Do go on, of course!”
“You see, this campaign,” said Neighsay, “It’s going to blur the lines of who your friends are, I think. You’re going to think that certain ponies are your friends when really they are simply using you to further an agenda which you would never want.”
Rarity suppressed a scowl. It wouldn't do to offend the chancellor, although they both knew that Neighsay himself was exactly the kind of pony he was describing, judging by his behavior towards Twilight when she’d set up her school. Blueblood cleared his throat, then spoke again:
“I don't know if you understand what you're doing, Rarity. It's not about your intentions, it's about what you've unleashed. Mass politics never ends well. Thirty years ago, that kind of politics -where you involve every creature, do radio addresses, marches, politicize everything, rather than letting actual leaders handle it- that kind of politics swept over Griffonia, and they still haven't recovered. Revolutions and wars which left hundreds of thousands dead, kings beheaded... that guillotine that CAN erected was a reference to the revolution in Aquileia where they lopped off their king's head! And now you see it taking root in Wingbardy, with the rise of Beakolini and the fascists with their March on Karthin. Their king should have arrested the lot of them, but he caved to the mob and now the mob is leading them to war. We've even seen it here, with the Severnayan revolution establishing that ridiculous communist breakaway in 'Stalliongrad,' and just last year in New Mareland they broke off from Equestria and become a communist state too!”
“Prince Blueblood, mayhaps you're looking at it the wrong way,” Rarity said, “I don't see how a princess-sponsored mobilization in the name of friendship is going to end with republicans beheading the princesses or communists breaking off from Equestria. I don't know about all this griffon business, but I think the March Revolution as they call it happened because governor Jet Set didn't offer any real solutions to the New Mareland Great Depression, and the communists did, even if those solutions were radical. I think we're in an age of mass politics as you call it, and if we don't get with the age and use it to promote friendship -which has been working, by the way, involving everypony in the process has done more good than any royal decree could have- then we'll get swept away by the tide.”
Blueblood sipped his tea, then scowled at Neighsay as the chancellor snarled:
“You are clearly misunderstanding the intentions of these thestrals! You are also flippantly disregarding the forces you've unleashed by trampling on the roles of educated ponies who actually know how to govern a kingdom. The story of the collapse of Griffonia, from a highly educated scholar to somepony who just admitted she knows nothing, is simple: radical politics and disrespect of tradition destroy societies and bring chaos and death in their wake.”
There was an awkward silence, punctuated by Rarity taking a long, audible sip of her tea. When she finished, she addressed Blueblood:
“Well, aside from concerns about our methods unleashing uncontrollable forces of revolution, you mentioned potential nefarious elements within the campaign? And Neighsay said something about me misunderstanding the thestrals’ intentions?”
“We were referring of course to Luna’s misguided followers, the Night Guard,” Blueblood said, “They have played a very active role in setting this campaign up.”
“Well naturally, being thestrals they would want their kind to be accepted within broader Equestrian society, as I am sure everypony at this table intends as well.”
Blueblood grimaced.
“I am sure everypony here would wish it were so,” Blueblood said, “Myself as much as anypony. I’m afraid Neighsay has made me aware of certain unfortunate facts that make me a little more skeptical about whether that's what the Night Guard really want. You see, their leader, Selenite… she has religious views which are rather unorthodox…”
“Although hardly a rarity among the thestrals!” Neighsay added, “Indeed she represents a bit of a bellwether: a tiny bit more radical than the average, just enough to lead them while not enough to alienate the majority of batponies like that maniacal Starry Glory.”
Rarity remembered that name. She remembered the acid that had dripped from Selenite’s tongue when she mentioned Starry Glory.
“Being as I am rather new to all this,” said Rarity, already suspecting she knew the answer but wanting to hear it from the pony’s mouth, “What religious views would these be?”
“It has come to my attention,” said Neighsay, “That Selenite’s mother was raised at an unlicensed religious academy, an organization which exploited legal loopholes to not be classified as a school and therefore not be under my agency’s supervision. We nonetheless kept tabs on them and eventually were able to have them shut down, as the purpose of the organization was to indoctrinate its students into radical Lunarism, better known as Nightmare Worship. And we have ample evidence to suggest that she raised her children into this cult from a very young age.”
Rarity nodded slowly, weighing this. She had fought Nightmare Moon before, and the idea that anypony could worship such a terrible creature seemed farfetched. Surely a few maniacs like Starry Glory, but Selenite? A nightmare-cultist? This sounded like fearmongering, but she decided to ask a few more questions before leaving this unproductive meeting.
“And you believe her mother succeeded in ah, indoctrinating her? And that such a person managed to get into the Night Guard and lead them?”
“At the time we didn’t know of her background,” explained Neighsay, “And even if we did, Luna was rather dismissive of the threat of Nightmarism. I assume she couldn’t imagine how her beloved bats could have turned to worshipping and supporting her evil alter-ego. You see I’d hoped that it was nothing, but we have rather extensive personnel files on her and the other Night Guard at this point, and it seems certain she still holds onto her Nightmarist beliefs. She even agitated against the EEA itself, claiming that enforcing basic school safety regulations were somehow erasing batpony culture or somesuch.”
“You see,” said Blueblood, “I didn’t want to believe it either but Neighsay has been quite thorough. We can let you see the documents if you wish, much of the rest of the Night Guard have similar stories I’m afraid. I’m sure princess Luna’s intentions are good, but she’s being led into believing that the thestral’s plight is far larger than it is and that the fault lies entirely on the three tribes, all in service of a clique who wish nothing more than to destabilize Equestria and Luna herself enough so that their goddess can reemerge. Really, I am sympathetic to the batponies’ cause, but…”
Rarity noticed that Neighsay had tensed slightly. A point of division? These two were far too easy to read.
“Well, I simply wish Luna had issued a royal decree. There’s no reason to get everypony riled up with this referendum. Even if you don’t think mass politics are inherently dangerous, the Nightmarist meddling must convince you that this campaign is a recipe for disaster. Of course, I’m sure it was part of Selenite’s plan to have her panic and do something like that though. What I would want is if you could perhaps talk to Luna, convince her to call it all off and just decree that thestrals will be equal and be done with it.”
“Oh come now, you can’t think that will work; the die has already been cast I’m afraid, and there’s no going back now.”
“Which, unfortunately, is why we’re having this conversation,” said Neighsay, “These agitators represent a clear and present danger to our way of life. I want nothing more than to see thestrals in their proper place in society, but these radicals are using the issue as a means to destroy everything we ponies have built.”
Blueblood winced slightly before adding:
“And by implicating you in it, they hope to prevent the elements of harmony from assembling again! It’s a quite brilliant plan, and I would compliment Selenite if it weren’t so… well…”
“Evil?” asked Rarity.
“Evil? Perhaps. Yes, I suppose that is what it is, isn’t it?”
“I shall have to think on this,” said Rarity, “I would like to see that dossier and information on how you acquired it, of course.”
“Naturally. It is strictly classified, of course. Wouldn’t want to cause a panic; most of the distrust against batponies comes from news of Nightmarist agitation, and to hear that captain Selenite herself was a Nightmarist… it would do immense damage to the status of batponies in Equestria.”
The threat was so plain Rarity almost rolled her eyes. Did this bookworm have no sense of subtlety? He continued on as Rarity finished the last of her tea:
“Now you may decide that Selenite can be forgiven if she renounces her ways, I know you’ve done that many times, but please do be reasonable this time. Even if she needn’t be punished -I am unaware of any actual crimes she has committed- she and the other Night Guard simply cannot be trusted, and you should allow scholars such as myself to provide you a more balanced picture of the thestral situation than extremists like Selenite.”
Rarity nodded, glancing up at the time.
“Ah, I’m afraid Luna’s speech will be wrapping up just now, and I really must meet her back at the hotel. I’ll think on what you’ve said, of course, and I would much appreciate getting to read over that dossier myself.”
“Of course,” replied Neighsay, “Just before you go however, one more piece of information so you do not underestimate the stakes. You may have defeated the Nightmare before she did widespread damage, and you may think you can do it again. But know this: Celestia’s memory of her first coming is incomplete. It was 1000 years ago and it was a very… difficult memory for her. So she only remembers the broad strokes, and the final confrontation. But what eyewitness accounts we have from that time suggest that the alicorn sister’s battle lasted twelve days, and throughout that time the batponies ravaged Equestria in service of their empress. The Longest Night caused such crop failures that if it weren’t for Princess Celestia’s brilliant leadership in the years that followed, Equestria would have starved. Nightmare Moon was around for less than a fortnight and she nearly destroyed us all. Remember that.”
***
“That could have gone better,” said Blueblood after Rarity had left the room, “Although it was a bit of a longshot; she doesn't much like me, and you are just not suited for this sort of tactful persuasion. Still, I thought we agreed I’d do most of the talking?”
“Small good that would have done,” Neighsay scoffed, “She’s completely convinced that the alleged plight of the batponies justifies anything. Now I see that she’d happily let Nightmarists into the halls of power if it meant those creatures could walk among us.”
“Neighsay, I agreed to help you, but I don’t know-”
“No, you don’t know. You’re aware of the national security risk this campaign creates, but you haven’t studied thestral history as I have. They have always been warlike creatures, entirely incompatible with our way of life.”
Blueblood shook his head slowly.
“You will see when it comes time to act. They will rally around their Nightmarist 'brethren’ and they will do everything in their power to destroy you for doing what needs to be done to protect Equestria.”
“I’m sure aunt Celestia will bail me out. I do have that asset if nothing else.”
“If we fail, there will be very little Celestia can do to protect you. You’re no longer dealing in court gossip, Princeling: you’re in high politics, and high politics is life and death.”
“Speaking of which, I believe I’ll start mobilizing the army right about now. I still can’t believe Aunty made me a general, but I suppose we can make an asset out of it.”
“Quietly, Blueblood. We don’t want to pour more fuel onto the fire.”
“I’ll trust you to ensure my precautions are unnecessary. Still, when the time comes I’ll move my troops to the Fillydelphia-Baltimare rail junction. That way we can reach Baltimare in time to secure the city if the worst should happen.”
***
“So, how’d your little meeting go?” Inquired Selenite that evening, after Rarity rejoined her companions at their suite in the Manefair Hotel.
“Oh it was quite unproductive. It seems the EEA will be a roadblock, as will prince Blueblood, for all he’s worth.”
“Hah! I could have told you that from the beginning; the EEA hates change of any kind and they’ve had it out for thestrals for a while. You know for the longest time we weren’t allowed to hang upside-down in EEA schools and grounds? Just because we can do it and the other ponies would bonk their heads if they tried. Not that they stop pegasi from lounging on clouds or unicorns from using magic…”
“I’m worried it’s more than that, Selenite. He seemed… how shall I put this? Chancellor Neighsay seemed most determined. And there was another thing...”
“Tea?” asked Luna, wandering into the hotel bedroom with a piping teapot held in her magic.
“Of course!” said Selenite, “Rarity was just talking about some bad news she got while meeting with Neighsay. Believe it or not, the EEA is being intransigent!”
Luna chuckled.
“Right now I’m just glad the rally went well,” Selenite said, “I was approached right afterwards by this one pony, Flowing Current, offering the help of a big group he’s part of, both to get ponies out to vote yes and to help local batponies feel more a part of their communities.”
“The end certainly did have some oomph,” said Luna, pouring some tea for each pony, “I was almost worried I had overdone it. I almost wish you’d been there, Rarity, although the EEEEs coming from the thestrals were quite loud.”
“Oh Darling I’ve more than gotten used to that,” Rarity replied, “However there is something more than just intransigence from the EEA-”
“What, do you think we’re going to get an actual ‘No’ side? I was wondering when they’d find some pretext,” drawled Selenite before sipping some of her tea, “You see Rarity, nopony wants to come out and say that they’re against the existence of batponies, at least not now that that kind of attitude is associated with extremists like CAN, but there are ponies who don’t want us around, or at the very least who benefit from us as a source of ununionized labour or as poor tenants to fill up slum tenements. So of course they’ll find something to latch on to…”
“Yes Selenite, you’re very smart,” said Luna, “Now can you let Rarity tell us exactly what’s going on?”
Selenite gave a smug little grin and sipped more tea. It was flavoured with the same lavenders Luna liked to arrange around Canterlot, probably dried by Luna herself after they had been out for a night or two. Selenite had to make sure the next dress Rarity made for Luna had a flower theme: flower arrangement was hardly the most important thing Luna did, but she’d always seemed quietly content while doing it, even when she was otherwise in her darkest moods.
“Selenite, I’m afraid Neighsay has threatened to go after you personally.”
Selenite tensed up.
“Go on,” she said, her eyes narrowing.
“He claims that he has enough information to prove that you… Oh how do I put this?” Rarity took a long sip, and Selenite felt her heart start to beat faster and faster. She knew what was coming, and she tried to think of something, anything to say, but her tongue had turned to stone. Luna broke the silence.
“I believe I know what you are going to say Rarity. Know that I trust Selenite.”
“Of course darling, I know how crafty Neighsay can be and I don’t believe a word of it, but the other ponies…”
“That’s not what Luna means,” Selenite said, her voice barely a whisper, “But please. I need to know what’s coming.”
“Well, Neighsay says he has gathered enough evidence to prove that you, as well as your entire family, are Nightmarists. He tried to use it to persuade me to leave the campaign, and when I refused… He told me he’d show me his dossier, but I don’t believe him. I believe he is planning to leak it to the press.”
After a long silence, Selenite slowly put down her cup.
“My family too?”
“He did speak of them, yes.”
Selenite nodded, then slowly stood up.
“Please excuse me,” she said, “I must write a telegram. To warn them. Then I will need some time alone- Princess Luna, please defer to Tempest Wind if you need anything from the Night Guard in terms of our duties as your security detail as I may be… operating at a reduced capacity. Rarity… thank you.”
Author's Note
As you may be able to tell, I'm adjusting some of the timelines of when exactly things happen in EAW, largely because of the different pacing requirements of a long narrative story with a relatively limited cast of POV characters as opposed to a strategy game. Next chapter's gonna be a bit weird, consisting of a series of radio broadcasts to give y'all a snapshot of wider Equestria during this period, and will more or less be happening in the same timeframe as Ch3 except towards the end of Ch4. It should be out in about 2 weeks, since now that my exams are done I can work on this a lot more. See you then!
Equestria At War: The Death of Harmony
Chapter 4 - Battle on the Airwaves
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Chapter 6 - A Moment's Respite
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Equestria At War: The Death of Harmony
Chapter 7 - Act 1 finale: Blood Moon, Part 1
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Equestria At War: The Death of Harmony
Chapter 8 - Act 1 finale: Blood Moon, Part 2
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Chapter 9 - Baltimare Burns
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Chapter 10 - Convalescence
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Chapter 11 - Princess of Dreams
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Chapter 12 - Ponyville Nights
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Chapter 13 - The War Council, Part 1
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Chapter 14 - The War Council, Part 2
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Chapter 15 - The Storm Breaks
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