Unable to sleep, Twilight rose before dawn and headed down the tower stairs. There was a little common area off of the hall near the conference room, with tables, chairs, a kettle, and a stove, where she and her friends would be able to meet, take their meals from the castle kitchens, and spend time together outside of official government business; she made her way there now, sluggish and bleary eyed. It wasn’t the homely kitchen space she was used to, but she would take what she could get. The castle staff had already laid out some breakfast on the countertops, in the Trottingham style that some referred to as “Continental”. Just the basics: some breads, assorted plain and sweet cereals, a few different kinds of spreads, juice, milk, coffee. She sleepily put one end of a croissant in her mouth and just sort of held it there, chewing at it dully. Ugh. The kettle clanked against the burner, she lit the little flame, and she waited until the steam began to sing so she could start waking herself up a bit. Gradually light began to fill the kitchen, making its way through the window and spreading across the walls and floor, and Twilight stood by the window and watched the sunrise. She could see Princess Celestia a ways away, standing on the balcony of the sisters’ own tower, beginning the day for all of Equestria. She needed to talk to her, Twilight thought, as soon as possible.

Twilight made her way across the castle, through the white stone maze of hallways and chambers, passing guardsponies changing shifts and castle staff scurrying from task to task as she headed towards the throne room. She’d forgotten the sheer enormous scale of the place, enough to marvel any visitor. As she entered the center of the Equestrian monarchy she saw no sign of Celestia, but Raven Inkwell was there, passing through with a saddlebag stuffed with papers.

“Good morning, Ms. Inkwell.” Twilight dipped her head slightly in formal greeting.

“Good morning, Princ- President Sparkle.” Raven dipped her head back, “Is there anything I can help you with?”

“I was looking for Princess Celestia, do you know where I could find her?”

“Ah, she’s in the castle gallery at the moment, I believe. I was just on my way there with these.” Raven lifted the flap of one of her saddlebags so Twilight could get a better look at its contents. The papers appeared to be reports on the condition of the castle, its staff, and lands owned by the crown.

“Mind if I come with you?”

“Not at all, I’m sure she will be delighted to see you.”

“Yes, uh, quite.” Twilight smiled awkwardly, her anxiety spiking. She began to walk beside Raven in the direction of the gallery.

“So, Madame President,” Raven began to make smalltalk as they walked, “How are you finding the castle so far? I hope everything is to your satisfaction.”

“It’s wonderful, as always, I couldn’t ask for better hospitality during my time here.”

“Well, if there is anything at all you or your ministers require, please let myself or Mr. Kibitz know immediately. We will have any problem resolved at once.”

“Thank you, Ms. Inkwell, we really appreciate it. How have you been lately?”

“Oh, I cannot complain. Work is work, but it is always such a pleasure to be here. My family is doing well, my parents just came from Manehattan last week to visit. How about yourself, ma’am?”

“Oh, you know… hectic. But it’s certainly been worse before. This is nothing I can’t handle.”

“Are your parents still living in Canterlot?”

“They are, I wrote them to tell them I would be moving back to the capital for a while, but I haven’t been able to see them yet with how busy it’s been. I’ll have to drop by and see them soon.”

“And are you excited to be seeing your brother again as well?”

“Shining Armor? He’s in the Crystal Empire with Princess Cadance, and he hasn’t told me anything about coming to visit.”

“Oh, my apologies, I assumed he had contacted you. I have only heard rumors.”

“What rumors?”

“I am sorry, ma’am, it is not polite to gossip…”

“Oh come on, you can tell me.” Twilight fixed Raven with her best smile, and after a moment’s hesitation the secretary gave up the information.

“Well, I had heard Princess Cadance intended to send your brother to represent the Crystal Empire at the constitutional negotiations. Apparently there is some concern amongst our northern kin that the new government will attempt to bring an end to the Empire.”

“That’s ridiculous, Equestria would never force itself on another country like that.”

“Of course, Madame President, ponies such as ourselves firmly agree on that, but I have heard there are others who would have Equestria rule the entire continent, and maybe even beyond.”

“Honestly, the things that go through some ponies’ heads.” Twilight rolled her eyes, “Even if the Crystal Ponies’ distrust is concerning, I guess it’ll be nice to see Shining Armor again. I’ll have to see if a letter from the Empire arrives soon.”

“Indeed. I wish you the best of luck with the negotiations, ma’am. Ah look, we’re here!” They passed through an arched doorway and entered the castle gallery, home of the great repository of Equestrian history and culture the royal sisters had collected over the ages. “Princess Celestia?” Raven called out, her voice echoing a little.

“Over here, Raven.” The voice came from deeper into the gallery, and Raven and Twilight went in pursuit of it. They found Celestia in a plain, slightly dusty, almost forgotten looking alcove, staring at the single painting at the end of it. It was a portrait, large and masterfully done, but worn at by age and neglect. It depicted a dull red-orange Pegasus stallion, the color of dry, clay-filled soil, with a short black mane and piercing yellow eyes. He looked young, but with the kind of premature aging brought on by excessive stress, demonstrated by the streaks of gray in his hair and bags under his eyes, and he wore the ancient armor of the Pegasi.

“I brought you the weekly reports, Princess.” Raven stood at a respectful distance.

“Thank you, Raven, you may leave them there. I will attend to them soon.” Celestia did not look away from the portrait on the wall. Raven nodded and slipped off her saddlebags, leaving them up against the wall, and left the gallery. Twilight remained at the end of the alcove, fidgeting uncomfortably, until Celestia broke the silence. “Come sit with me, if you would, my most faithful student.”

“Yes, Princess.” Twilight walked over and sat beside her, in front of the painting.

“Do you know who this is?” Her teacher asked. Twilight did not immediately recognize the painting’s subject, but as she looked closer at the plaque beside it she felt a sense of familiarity. It read “Gratius Magnus, Protector of Equestria”.

“Gratius Magnus?” She raised an eyebrow in disbelief, “The ancient political theorist? Author of Autocracy?”

“Indeed it is. That is how those who record our past have chosen to preserve him. Is there anything else you know about him?”

“Not really,” Twilight wracked her brain, “I’ve never seen anything about him in any of my history books. Even his own work has almost no information about him personally in it. Why do you ask?”

“To make a point.”

“What do you know about him?”

“I know he was, in many ways, a great pony,” The Sun Princess sighed, “And a terrible one: scholar, leader, savior, butcher, all at the same time.” Twilight remained quiet.

“You are, of course, familiar with the story of Equestria’s founding.” Celestia continued, “Millenia ago the Three Tribes lived in the north, but their disunity drew the attention of the Windigos and forced them to leave their home. Only by joining together as one, in harmony, could the Tribes force back the endless winter, survive, and make Equestria their new homeland. Yet the unification of the Tribes, so different in character and so long at odds with one another, could never have been as easy as it seems in the tales we tell our children. In the time immediately after its founding, before even the rule of Discord, Equestria was as weak as a newborn foal, and the circling predators began to descend in haste. The Changelings, the Griffons, the Dragons, all struck against us for reasons of their own, but still the Tribes quarreled among themselves as their new land burned; and then, there was Gratius Magnus. He gathered an army of followers and visited each of the Tribes, delivering a simple message; they would join him against the invaders, and pledge never to raise a weapon against one another again, or they would die where they stood. Most accepted, some out of conviction, others to save their own skins. The rest perished. Gratius’ armies drove the invaders from our lands and pursued them to their own, destroying and massacring all they could in revenge. I once heard that, before the war, a hundredth of all the land’s Changelings could blot out the sun when they swarmed together, but afterwards it was forty years before even a single Changeling showed their face near the Equestrian border. Gratius was no less brutal with his own kind; if he could not make the Tribes love each other, he would make them fear him instead. He built the dungeons of this very castle, actually. I’ve always hated them, and I’ve never sent a single pony to them, but I think they are a poignant reminder to any who would lead this country of what they could become. Regardless, Gratius saved us from what would have surely been our extinction. Equestria would not be here without him. What should we make of that?”

“Princess,” Twilight’s brain felt dangerously close to overloading with new information, “You know I trust you implicitly, but how could this not be recorded anywhere? How can Gratius’ work sit on the shelves of our libraries but there not be a word about the rest of his life?”

“History is a tricky thing, Twilight. It is, after all, only what we choose to make of it. Things we would rather not remember are quite easily forgotten, and it is hard to reconcile such a dark period of time with the harmony Equestria is known for today, or to reconcile Gratius’ crimes with the fact he saved us from total destruction. I suppose it was easier, and more pleasant, to remember him as a scholar, with his books and quills, than face the complicated truth of the stallion. And so,” Celestia gestured towards the plaque, “The stallion is lost to time, replaced by a faux model we can all safely dismiss, and we do not have to face the ghosts of our past.”

“Were you there when he ruled Equestria? Did you know him?”

“No, fortunately I was not alive at the time, but my grandfather was. He worked for Gratius, actually, at the tail end of the Protector’s life, and probably knew him better than most did in the end. He would tell Luna and I stories from those days sometimes, long after Gratius’ death, though he never said much about who the Protector was as a pony; I think he preferred to use those days as a cautionary tale of desperation and ruthlessness. I always wished he had told us a bit more, but nevertheless, his stories have stayed with me for all of my life, and I returned to them more and more frequently once my sister and I achieved our ascension. Gratius Magnus, Protector of Equestria, became everything I strived to avoid as a ruler; to inflict fear, to inflict pain, to prize order and security over the happiness of my subjects. Most of all I just didn’t want any more creatures to die. I disbanded the bulk of our armies, I tore down our walls and prisons, and I resolved to make no more wars upon our neighbors. There was, I thought, no problem that kindness and goodwill could not overcome.” She sighed, “But it seems I was wrong.”

“No, Princess, you weren’t-”

“Equestria became weak under my guidance. I realize that now. Perhaps I should have had a little more Gratius in me.”

“But nothing is worth inflicting that kind of pain...” Twilight looked at the floor, wide-eyed, imagining the Protector’s reign of terror.

“Have you read Autocracy, Twilight?”

“Just the first couple pages.”

“Do you remember the opening lines?”

“Mhm.” Twilight closed her eyes and let the words float to the surface of her mind, “Leadership is a great trap. To be a good leader, you must love your subjects. To be a good leader, you must also protect your subjects. Oftentimes, to keep the rest safe, you must order the destruction of some of those you love. That is the trap. Though it may hurt you deeply, you must hold nothing back in either war or repression. A million dead is nothing compared to the survival of the nation.”

“And what do you think of that, my faithful student?” Celestia’s gaze was intense.

“I-” Twilight struggled to gather her thoughts, her voice tinged with desperation, “I don’t think you were wrong. You wanted nothing but happiness and prosperity for your subjects. How could that be wrong? And though you've made mistakes, there isn't a ruler anywhere, at any time, who hasn't. You never failed us, really. Equestria has never been better than it is now. It might not seem like ponies believe that, but I doubt there's a single one who would disagree, and that's all down to you. There are other Princesses, yes, there are the Elements of Harmony, but none of our contributions can hold a candle to yours. You have to understand, Princess, the desire for change was never because your rule was bad. Ponies want change because Equestria has the ability to be better. One pony, one vision, can only take us so far; it's time the rest of Equestria picked up the torch and carried this country forward. You've brought us to this point and given us everything we have. You've planted the seeds of Equestria's success and greatness, like a mother raising millions of children till they're ready to fly the nest, and it's finally time to let us spread our wings. As you’ve labored and sacrificed for Equestria and for us, let us do the same. I promise you, your ponies are ready. You don't have to stand alone anymore!"

"And what of those who would have me go the way of Gratius, and fade quietly into history?"

"They’re wrong, and the rest of Equestria knows it. We want you where you've always been, we just want to be there beside you. Every pony, alone, makes mistakes. When you're by yourself at the top it's hard to see clearly. It's easy to tell yourself there's no flaws in your plans and it's harder to see what could go wrong, but we still need you. We still need you and Luna and Cadance, and we still need the Elements. It’s true that there are dangers not anypony can face, but there are some things everypony can give to Equestria: blood, sweat, tears, and never-ending vigilance.” Twilight paused and took a breath, “Princess, please, you have to understand that this is no fault of your own, but Equestria has run out of goodwill and pleasant thoughts. When your safety, your livelihood, your life, and the lives of those you love depend on a few select beings put so high on a pedestal it seems like nothing can touch them, and then those guardians fail, how can you help but lose faith? The average pony has no stake in the fight itself, which they can scarcely comprehend, but only in its outcome. To them the struggle may as well be between gods. They can only pray that we, these almighty heroes, will keep them safe, and if we can’t then what good are we to them? Thinking happy thoughts and singing about sunshine and rainbows won’t save their lives.”

“What do you think we should do?” Celestia looked at the floor.

“Raise the stakes. Lower the pedestal. Let all of Equestria see that we’re just ponies too, that we’re just like them. Let them step up, instead of cowering behind goddesses and heroes just waiting for our latest fuckup to finally end it all for them, and we’ll all defend our country together. No more titanic struggles between paragons of good and evil; let each and every pony fight for our survival to the very last ragged breath, so when they’re old and gray they can look back on their lives, remember the names of those who gave even more, and take pride in knowing their home is safe because of them. I-” Twilight’s voice caught as she realized she was losing control of her emotions, “I’m sorry, Princess, I- I shouldn’t speak to you like that, I’m sorry-”

“Do not apologize, my faithful student.” Celestia’s voice sounded a bit hoarse, and when Twilight looked over she saw her eyes were shut tight and her head bowed. A tear slipped down her teacher’s cheek, “You’re right, and I know you are, it’s just… hard. Asking ponies to kill and die for Equestria has always been unthinkable to me. I’ve always believed I should be paying those costs instead, so they could all just live their lives and be happy; I sent my own beloved sister to the moon for a thousand years, for sun’s sake... How would we be any different from Gratius if we asked our subjects to pay Equestria in blood, as if it was just some other kind of tax?”

“Gratius didn’t ask for sacrifices, he forced them, it isn’t the same. Princess, please,” Twilight reached out to place a comforting hoof on her mentor’s side, “You can talk to me. You’ve supported me, mentored me, educated me, you’ve let me confide in you; now let me give just the smallest bit of that back to you. Let me share all your fears and worries.”

“Twilight, I-” For a moment Celestia’s expression softened, and Twilight could see all the roiling emotions hidden behind her carefully designed demeanor: regret, fear, sadness, and anger all rushed across her face as they competed to dominate her mind. Then, just as quickly, her look hardened again. She reached a hoof up and placed it over Twilight’s, “I appreciate your care for me, but I think I would rather not talk about it at the moment. Perhaps another time. I’m sure you understand.”

“Oh, of course.” Twilight’s voice wavered. She lowered her hoof as a sense of crushing defeat washed over her, “Maybe another time. I’m sorry for prying.”

“Don’t be. I know you have only my best interests at heart. Was there anything else?”

“Um, no, I don’t think so.” Twilight nervously chewed at her inner lip.

“Very well. Have a pleasant day, my most faithful student.” Celestia’s face was once again a stone mask as she stared at the portrait of Gratius Magnus.

“You too, Princess.” Twilight stood and, after a moment’s hesitation, walked away. Just before she left the alcove she turned and looked back, in case the Sun Princess changed her mind, but Celestia continued to look straight ahead as if in a deep haze. Twilight sighed and left the gallery, heading back towards the South Tower. Even if she hadn’t been able to get Celestia to open up to her this time, she would try again. Hopefully at least her point had gotten across, but even if it hadn’t, she didn’t need the other Princesses for this. She had the power to act alone now, and she would use it if she had to. She reached her office and pulled a quill and sheet of parchment from her desk, hastily scratching out a letter. No need to be too formal, it was for an old friend.

Dear Furlong,

I know it’s been a while since you heard from me, but truth be told I was never quite sure how to reach you after you disappeared. I don’t want you to feel like I’m only sending this because I want something, though you were probably never too put out about me not writing anyway. We were all supposed to think you were dead, but it always seemed suspicious to me. I’m glad I finally got to find out what happened to you; perks of being royalty, I guess. I know I’m not supposed to talk about it, but don’t worry, I won’t be sending this letter by normal means. No one will ever see it except you and me. That is, if it can even get to you. I’m still not sure this will work, but I hope it does. You must have heard about the transitional government by now, and I have to tell you, we could really use your talents. I have a plan to make Equestria a safer place for us all, but I need somepony with the knowledge and experience to pull it off. Simply put, I think you’re the stallion for the job. If you get this, I’d love for you to come see me in Canterlot. Even if you don’t want to work with us, it’ll at least be nice to see you again. It’s been too long.

Your Friend,
Twilight Sparkle

She rolled up the scroll and sealed it in red wax stamped with the image of her cutie mark, then took another sheet of parchment from her desk. There was only one way she could think of to get the letter to Furlong, wherever he was: Spike. Even if she still wasn’t quite sure how his manner of sending letters worked, he’d never failed before; as far as she knew he just needed a face and a name. Spike had known Furlong too, but it was so long ago she thought maybe a memory jog would help, even if she wasn’t much of an artist. The quill scratched along the parchment as she sketched her friend’s face in rough strokes and scribbled his name under it before adding a note instructing Spike on what to do with the letter and dropping both off on his desk. Now she just had to hope Furlong was willing to hear her out. As she reentered her office her eye caught the copy of Autocracy laying on top of her desk. She sat down, flicked the worn book open, and began to take in Gratius Magnus’ words.

“A million dead is nothing compared to the survival of the nation.” She whispered to herself, “The survival of the nation…” How far was she willing to go?

Author's Note

Boy that took forever. Finals are certainly giving me a lot to do, so I probably won't be able to work much on this for a bit, but in just over a week I'll be free from academia for the foreseeable future and can maybe get some regular updates going. This chapter gave me a lot of trouble. It has, I think, more dialogue, and more important dialogue, than the ones that come before it, and dialogue has always been something I struggle with. I want it to be natural, but not boring, entertaining and to the point, but not feel overly scripted, detailed and informative, but not feel like an exposition dump. I realize these are high standards for an amateur writer, but I'm gonna try my best, dammit. Of course, when a character is essentially giving a lecture on history it can't help but be a bit of an exposition dump. I've had plenty of presentations like that, but Gratius is important. Maybe not Gratius as a pony, but more the idea of Gratius; he's like a leadership boogeyman, haunting Twilight's decision making. The line about Gratius and Celestia's granddad might seem like just a throwaway, but I've thought a lot about those two over the last week. Maybe I'll do some kind of interlude with them in the future. Also, the quotation from Autocracy is a Gettysburg reference; awesome movie, highly recommend if you like war films. I'm not entirely sure why I felt compelled to add author's notes to this chapter and not the other ones. Maybe I felt like I owed some kind of explanation for how long it took, or maybe I wanted to explain my struggles with dialogue in the hope of getting some kind of mercy. Maybe I just wanted to complain about school a bit. Regardless, I hope you enjoyed this one. Especially you Pete100, you're pretty cool.

Edit 5/25/2021: You: Wow, Rhed re-edited all these chapters in record time. He must be laser focused, the only thing on his mind must be this fic! Me: ~Life is like a hurricane, here in, Duckburg.~