Chapters The stay in Canterlot proved every bit as tedious as I feared it would.
I am sure Canterlot has no shortage of diversions for those who would care to seek them out. No doubt I could have whiled away the days mingling with the horde of fops and painted mares that seemed to infest the Commander’s court, but I suspect that if I were forced to endure their company for an extended period of time it would inevitably end in madness and mass bloodshed. I suspect the Commander would object to my transforming her palace into an abattoir, even if my actions were justified by being forced to endure the non-stop prattling of fools for days on end. In truth, I suspect such a transformation would be to the palace’s benefit—at least once the servants washed away the worst of the blood.
Thankfully, Gale performed more than enough mingling to fulfill any social obligations I might have had. Thus, I was spared the company of preening fools, and they were spared an inevitable and painful death at my hooves. As an added bonus, my dutiful daughter was no doubt building upon her web of contacts with every passing moment. There are reasons that I chose a daughter whose talents lay in the field of information gathering, and while most of them were practical concerns, I will not deny that at times it pleased me that she could attend social duties in my stead.
That is not to say that I am unsociable by any means. However, I confess that for every pony whose company I enjoy, there are several whose flaws and deficiencies of personality drive me to distraction. Gale, thankfully, was far more tolerant of such things than I.
Normally I might have passed the days upon the training fields of the Royal Guard, but after the clash with Proud Line I did not think such a thing would be prudent. Line might have been a fool who had provoked a needless confrontation, but he was still a member of the Guard. Many soldiers might feel an obligation to defend the honor of their comrade and unit, even when the comrade in question was a fool.
I did still gain what practice I could in the open sky with Gale, but there is little two ponies with no proper training equipment can do to hone their skills. Not to mention that my daughter’s other duties left her with limited time for such diversions.
Fortunately, a visit to the Canterlot Royal Library provided me with ample reading material to while away the empty hours while I waited upon the Commander’s pleasure. I will confess that the literary pursuits of the my own tribe are somewhat lacking in certain areas. The difficulty of storing books in clouds no doubt contributed to that. (1) There is little reason to go the trouble and expense of making and storing books that do not serve some immediate practical purpose.
1: Modern readers might not be aware of just how problematic this issue was, as somewhere in the nine hundred years of magical innovation after Shadow’s life somepony got around to making affordable cloud-friendly books. However, back in Shadow’s time the only way to keep books from just falling through the clouds was to incorporate thunderforged steel or some (expensive) enchanted material into the construction of the book itself. On top of that, traditional paper and ink didn’t exactly hold up well to being left around water vapor for extended periods of time, and preventing that required quite a bit of unicorn magic or some very nontraditional materials. For example, the works of Lyequinegus were inscribed onto thunderforged steel tablets. It certainly solved the durability issue, but the end result was the only book in Equestrian history whose weight could be measured in tons.
However, the relative ease of storing literature on the ground allowed unicorn authors far greater freedom to explore their craft. While I cared little for some of the frivolities this inevitably produced, like tawdry romances and simplistic fiction, I will confess that I found many of the works of philosophy and learning quite enlightening. One would be hard pressed to find the works of Aristrotle, Coltfucious, or Epic Curious in Cloudsdale. While I still prefer the works of Lyequinigus to those of the unicorn philosophers, it is always enlightening to see another perspective on matters.
I was in the midst of mentally comparing Curious’ more self-indulgent philosophical position with Lyequinegus’ emphasis on sacrifice and austerity when the Commander’s summons arrived. To my delight, I was to attend her in her personal quarters instead of being forced to endure the pomp and circumstance of meeting her in court. How the unicorns could tolerate such ridiculous ceremonial trappings on a daily basis, I shall never know.
To my further delight, Gale was waiting for me upon my arrival. My pleasure at seeing her was somewhat reduced when the Archmagus trotted up moments later, accompanied as ever by her most unusual daughter. Gale’s ears drooped ever so slightly, and she quietly whispered to me. “My apologies, Mother. I was with Midnight when the Commander’s summons arrived. ‘Twould seem that her mother learned of the reason for my departure quite swiftly.”
“Thou need hardly apologize for such a thing,” I gently reassured her. “No doubt the Archmagus has no need to rely upon snippets overheard by her daughter to learn of all that passes within the palace walls.” I should be quite surprised if she did not have ponies who served a similar function to Gale under her employ, or perhaps she preferred to use more arcane means of reconnaissance. Being a magus does come with certain advantages.
“Archmagus.” I acknowledged her with a polite nod, which she coolly returned. Thankfully, the impending meeting with the Commander spared me the need to offer any forced pleasantries.
The Commander’s personal quarters were every bit as opulent as I would have expected from Canterlot. I was quite certain that even the gemstones were gemstone-encrusted. However, for all the luxury there was a certain level of tastefulness that was absent many other areas of the palace. ‘Tis a difficult thing to explain or precisely put one’s hoof upon, but suffice to say that where in many places the sheer luxuriousness of Canterlot seemed overdone and gaudy, in the Commander’s quarters it somehow managed to seem ... fitting.
“Commander.” My daughter and I both saluted her, while the Archmagus and her daughter bowed and scraped before her as unicorns are wont to do.
The Commander sharply returned my salute, and signalled the Archmagus to stop grovelling. “Shadow, Gale, it is a pleasure to see both of thee once more. I trust that the both of thee have found thy accommodations to be pleasant?”
“I have no complaints.” The beds were overstuffed monstrosities, and most other furniture was designed for appearance over function, but I suppose I’ve slept in worse places. Like that one time my unit had to share a cave with several hibernating bears. At least Canterlot Palace did not reek of rotting flesh and stale bear feces—though some of the perfumes that the mares and stallions slathered themselves with smelled little better.
A faintly amused smile appeared on Commander Celestia’s face. “Shadow, might I ask a question of thee?” I nodded my assent, and the Commander continued. “Art thou always so dour and serious, or hast thou in fact smiled at some point in the course of thy life?”
Gale let out a poorly concealed snort of laughter, and a slight smirk quirked at the Archmagus’ lips.’Twould seem the Commander was in a jesting mood today. I suppose it would be my duty to attend to her desire, then. “I smiled once in my early fillyhood, Commander. I found that I did not care for the experience.”
Gale turned to me, her jaw hanging slack from surprise. “Mother ... didst thou just make a jest?”
I turned to my daughter, keeping my face and expression as neutral as possible. “Neigh.” Gale stared at me for some time, trying to discern my true meaning. While she occupied herself with such idle pursuits, I turned to the Commander. “How might I be of service, ma’am?”
The Commander’s horn glowed, and the Ephorate’s report appeared hanging in the air before her. “I have completed my review of Pegasopolis’ quarterly report. Thankfully, everything appears to be in order, and I see no reason not to follow the Gerousia’s recommendations, so thy task is a simple one.”
That was welcome news indeed. I could look forward to a swift return to Cloudsdale, and many months before duty would once more drag me to Canterlot. If the Commander were to gainsay the Gerousia and make her own orders I might have been forced to linger here for weeks.
Sadly, the matter could not be concluded quite so simply. The Archmagus delicately cleared her throat to remind us all that she was still in the room. “Your Majesty, while I do not doubt the wisdom of your decision, I feel I should state that I have not yet had the opportunity to review either of these documents.”
I felt a hint of choler at her statement, and not simply because it would necessitate my remaining in Canterlot for several more days. I kept my tone carefully polite and neutral as I addressed her. “With all due respect (2), Archmagus, it would be most inappropriate for the grand vizier of Unicornia to concern herself with the business of Cloudsdale.”
2: As anypony who has ever served in the armed forces knows, “with all due respect” is really just an extremely polite way of saying “kiss my plot.”
The Archmagus was clearly not pleased to be gainsaid in front of the Commander, but there was little she could do about the matter. The law was on my side—Grand Vizier Sunbeam Sparkle officially had no more standing in Pegasopolis than any foreign dignitary. Certainly, she had no right to involve herself in the purely internal affairs of Pegasopolis.
However, that was twice I had now wounded her pride, and there are few who can overlook such an injury. Anger burned in her eyes, even as her voice turned dangerously sweet. “The Ephor is, of course, correct. I apologize, Your Majesty. In my eagerness to be of service, I overstepped myself. However, there is another matter which I feel must be brought to your attention.” One could practically feel the sense of smug satisfaction rolling off of her as she announced. “There was a grave incident several days ago—the Ephor and her daughter assaulted several of your Guards within the very wall of your palace.”
The Commander’s face went carefully blank. Neigh, more than that, her entire countenance darkened. Always before there had been certain sense of lightness in her demeanour, as if not even the burden of ruling over three pony tribes weighed upon her. But now, she was clearly troubled. “That is a serious charge, Archmagus. Ephor, what hast thou to say upon this matter?”
I chose my words carefully, lest I offer the Archmagus something she might be able to twist and use against me. “Regrettably, there was an altercation between myself, my daughter, and several of your guards. Their commanding officer offered insult to both myself and my daughter. We took appropriate action to defend our honor.”
The Archmagus turned to me, a coldly triumphant smile upon her face. “If you truly felt that your honor had been so wounded, then why didst you not challenge Proud Line to juris ungula ? Certainly, none would have disputed your right to do so if he offered you insult such as you have claimed.”
Clearly Archmagus Sparkle knew little of the ways of warriors. “Because I do not dirty my blades with the blood of fools. To face one such as him in honorable single combat would be beneath me. An Ephor does not duel a mere lieutenant, there is no honor in it.” I suppose that had Gale wished to do so she might have faced him in battle, but even she outranked the fool by a healthy margin. Simply granting him the right to face my daughter in juris ungula offered him far greater praise than a common idiot deserved.
For the moment, Commander Celestia seemed content to silently observe whilst the Archmagus and I exchanged words. No doubt she would intervene when we’d both made our cases, or when she felt it needful. For her part, the Archmagus continued upon her offensive with admirable determination, though her enthusiasm to disgrace me before the Commander’s eyes perhaps blinded her to the folly of her cause. “Would it not have been far simpler and wiser to surrender to Her Majesty's Royal Guard, and let the fool get reprimanded for arresting an important dignitary to her court? To do so would have avoided needless bloodshed.”
I let out an incredulous snort at the very idea. “That is your wise counsel, Archmagus? That I should allow a mere lieutenant to disarm and imprison both myself and my daughter? Unthinkable.” I would surely be the laughingstock of all Cloudsdale if I were to allow myself to be treated with such disrespect. “What other indignities would you have had us endure after placing ourselves at the mercy of the Guard?”
The Archmagus’ eyes went wide as the weight of my implication sank in. “Ephor, I understand you were ill-treated by one member of the Guard, but I can assure you that it was an entirely isolated case. Unicornia and Canterlot are bastions of civilization, not some two-bit tyranny whose dungeons are naught but a pit of torture and indignity. Do you truly think Her Majesty would tolerate any such crimes within her own palace?” She gave a quick shake of her head, and proceeded to answer her own question. “Neigh, she would not. But instead of placing your faith in Her Majesty, you crippled one of the Queen's officers and assaulted a hoofful of her guards who were merely following orders? In the very halls of her palace, no less? Surely you could have resolved the matter in a way that preserved your honor without resorting to violence?”
I suppose her point was not entirely lacking in merit. In truth, it sat ill with me to do violence to my fellow ponies, especially those who were enemies through cruel circumstance rather than by choice. Still, there had been little I could do when Proud Line seemed so intent upon forcing a confrontation. However, I was not the only pony present. “If you were truly so concerned with the prevention of bloodshed, surely you could have intervened in the matter. Not even Proud Line could ignore an order from the Grand Vizier.”
Archmagus Sparkle let out an indignant sniff and took a half-step closer to her daughter. “Midnight was with me. You would have me introduce my daughter to a potentially hazardous situation that was mere moments away from coming to blows?” I noted that the Archmagus neglected to mention the invisibility spell she had been maintaining at the time, which no doubt would have safeguarded young Midnight quite well.
Gale took it upon herself to speak up in my defense. “We offered them ample opportunity to surrender.”
The tiniest hint of an amused grin appeared upon the Commander’s face for so fleeting an instant that I could not be entirely certain it had really been there at all. Sadly, the Archmagus did not share the Commander’s opinion of Gale’s response. “So the Royal Guard is to surrender every time a delegation from Pegasapolis is sent? Yes, that sets a wonderful precedent.”
I could not restrain myself from letting a slight smirk show as I answered her. “'Twould be far a wiser course of action than provoking us to arms. No doubt less painful, as well.”
The Archmagus scowled at the both of us. “Do you find this situation amusing, Ephor? You make light of the fact that you assaulted her Majesty's guards in an act of barbarity and senseless chest-thumping? You think it amusing that Proud Line is likely to walk with a limp for the rest of his life due to the injuries he suffered?”
“If that is what he claims, then he exaggerates the extent of his injuries,” Gale answered her with a casually dismissive wave of her wing. “I placed my spikes quite well. If anything, he owes me a debt of gratitude—had he provoked somepony who lacked my skill, he could easily have been crippled or slain outright.” (3)
3: Gale is quite correct on this point. In fact, one of Shadow’s fellow Ephors, Bright Charger, would eventually fall in battle after suffering a “minor” injury to the back of h er right foreleg. Charger and her fellow soldiers dismissed the wound as nothing but a flesh wound until she collapsed after the battle’s end. When the medics removed her armor, they realized that the seemingly insignificant wound had in fact severed a major artery. Charger died of her wounds shortly afterwards.
I gave an approving nod and spoke in support of my daughter. “An insult was given, and we provided our answer. Perhaps in Unicornia the values of honor and courage are unknown, but in Pegasopolis they are alive and well.”
Archmagus Sparkle rolled her eyes and let out a disbelieving snort. “‘Tis curious, how often the ‘honor’ and ‘courage’ of pegasi seem to result in wanton acts of violence and destruction. Your tribe always seem to fetshize those words and use them to justify their brutishness.”
“Enough.” The Commander spoke the word in a tone I quite recognized from my time in the clanhold—anypony who has ever seen a mother separate two squabbling children would be familiar with it. Whatever amusement the Commander might have found in our exchange had clearly faded, judging by the troubled frown she now wore. “‘Twould seem that clashing of cultures between the three pony tribes remains alive and well as ever. Unfortunate.”
The Archmagus and I both lapsed into silence, lest we offer Commander Celestia some further offense. After several seconds, she gave an annoyed shake of her head and grumbled under her breath, “Once more, it seems that I must play mother to this world.” She let out a single, heavy breath and gave her decision. “Archmagus, I would expect the guards in my service to know better than to needlessly provoke visiting dignitaries, especially dignitaries from a place with the long and proud warrior tradition of Pegasopolis. While there is little that can justify an attack upon the Royal Guard under Uniconian law, the Ephor is, as thou hast no doubt ascertained, a pegasus. By Pegasopolan custom, her actions were justified.” Commander Celestia fell silent for several seconds, her chin dipping slightly and her eyes narrowed in thought, before she continued, “I suppose ‘tis most fortunate that Line chose to cause an incident with a fellow Equestrian rather than a true foreigner, else we might be facing the spectre of war.”
My daughter let out an amused little titter. “Fortunate indeed. 'Twould be passing curious to see how Commander Celestia of Pegasopolis would go to war with Queen Celestia of Unicornia.” A moment of awkward silence passed, and my daughter’s face fell. “Oh horseapples. I spoke that thought aloud.”
Thankfully the Commander saw fit to allow the obscenity to pass, though I made a mental note to properly reprimand my daughter once the meeting was concluded. When meeting with the leader of all Equestria, a certain level of propriety is to be expected. Though perhaps such would not prove necessary, as the droop in my daughter’s ears and the pained expression on her face made it quite plain that she realized she had erred. The Commander held up a single hoof to forestall any further commentary. “Peace, child. I certainly have no plans to declare war upon myself. An ephor assaulting an officer of Unicornia—or the reverse—would spark conflict between the two nations under other circumstances.”
It was at this point that Archmagus Sparkle reentered the conversation, showing no indication that she was troubled by her failure to lessen my standing in Commander Celestia’s eyes. “With respect, Your Majesty, I believe that this incident shows a much larger issue at hoof than a mere clash between your guards and a visiting dignitary. As you said, you rule over three pony tribes, yet their laws and customs are frequently in conflict. ‘Twould not be untrue to say that aside from you as a common leader, there is little which binds the three tribes together beyond our basic biological similarities.”
The Commander gave a weary nod to her grand vizier. “‘Tis true, I am often troubled by the burdens of carrying three separate governments. To be Queen, Commander, and Chancellor to the three tribes brings far more complication that I care for, but ‘tis a necessary evil.”
The Archmagus respectfully bowed her head, and continued, “I have seen how heavily this burden has weighed upon you, Your Majesty. I think this yet another reason for why ‘tis past time we saw to enacting a reformation of Equestria’s legal codes. The ancient treaties signed by Princess Platinum, Commander Hurricane, and Chancellor Puddinghead to create the Equestrian League certainly never envisioned the possibility that their three offices would all be united within a single pony—let alone that this pony would be an immortal who held all three offices in perpetuity.”
There was truth to Archmagus Sparkle’s words. While there are means by which a Commander might be removed from power, at the time I could scarce imagine any circumstance that might drive the Ephorate to relieve Commander Celestia of her position. ‘Twas also my understanding that, while the Commander stood for re-election as Chancellor of the earth ponies every few years, there had been no serious challenge to her election within living memory.
The Commander frowned at her advisor, and a hint of displeasure colored her voice. “Thou wouldst say, then, that my rule over ponykind is inefficient?”
The Archmagus fell silent for a few moments, and when she spoke there was a placating sweetness to her tone that sought to take the sting away from her words. “What I am saying is that your government is cumbersome as it stands. The original agreements that bound the pony tribes together have passed the point of obsolescence. Effectively having three governments united by just one pony has produced a number of issues that our founders could never have envisioned, and has lead to many incidents just like the one between the good Ephor and your own guards. And this unfortunate incident is but one in the long list of troubles which plague your combined governments.”
I was beginning to grow a touch wary of the Archmagus’ designs. This did not strike me as a sudden burst of inspiration from the discovery of a new problem, but rather a matter she had devoted a great deal of thought to in the past. Perhaps her true design in raising the issue of my clash with the Commander’s guards was not to diminish me, but rather to serve as a means by which she might bring her true agenda to light.
The Commander frowned at Archmagus Sparkle, clearly troubled by the proposal. “Thou wouldst have me rebuild the governments of Equestria from the ground up, then? That is no small endeavour. The current system might be imperfect, but it has sufficed for centuries.”
The Archmagus conceded the point with a nod. “Aye, and Equestria has been better for it. In the early days of Equestria ‘twould have been impossible for the three pony tribes to reconcile their differences and come under a single government and society.” She idly shifted her mane about and shot a brief unreadable look at me before returning her attention to the Commander. “However, those days are long past—now all ponykind has lived content under a single ruler for more than a century. Surely ‘tis past time we acknowledged this reality, and took measures to tighten the bonds between the three tribes. Should we not make the glue which holds our society together stronger than a few weak strings that will snap under the slightest pressure?”
There was a great deal of sense in her words. That made me wary. From what I had observed thus far of Archmagus Sparkle’s character at that time, I had little reason to believe she sought the good of all Equestria and ponykind. If she proposed a series of government reforms, I was convinced that it could only be because she saw some advantage for herself in doing so. I chose my words carefully. “Strengthening the bonds between the tribes would seem prudent, but we must not act precipitously. What precisely dost thou propose, Archmagus?”
Given her apparent level of preparation for this conversation, I had half-expected her to produce an entire written constitution for a unified Equestrian government. Thankfully, she had either not yet gone to that extreme, or else felt it prudent not to reveal the full extent of her plans. “I believe that the time has come to centralize Equestria's government, laws, and institutions. While we obviously should allow each pony tribe to retain its unique culture and customs, it makes little sense for a family with a pegasus mother, a unicorn father, and an earth pony foal to be divided by three complete sets of laws and institutions, many of which are mutually incompatible and only linked together precariously by Her Majesty’s role in all three governments.”
The Commander offered her vizier a skeptical frown. “Does such a family truly exist, or is this merely a hypothetical example?”
I took it upon myself to provide an answer to her question. “I know of no family with that specific configuration, but it is quite possible that there is such a household. Equestria is a vast place, Commander, and mixed marriages are far from unknown.” Indeed, if one were to judge by the existence of creatures such as mules and hippogriffs, some ponies would go much further afield than merely seeking the company of another pony tribe.
The Archmagus was quick to jump upon the opening I had created for her. “Aye, Your Majesty. I took the liberty of consulting the census records, have confirmed that at least two such families exist within Unicornia’s borders. There are of course a far greater number of households where just two of the tribes are represented, mostly between earth pony and unicorn.” That was to be expected, given that most pegasi spend little time upon the ground, and the pegasi had far less in common with our earthbound cousins than they shared with each other. “Even within a marriage between two ponies of the same tribe, ‘tis always possible that a forgotten ancestor of another tribe left a genetic legacy which might choose to manifest itself within the child. So long as such mixed households occur, they shall remain a problem for ponykind under the current legal system.”
Commander Celestia wore a troubled frown for some time, before she reluctantly announced, “While I deeply empathize with the difficulties faced by such families, there is only so much that can practically be done. The laws of nations cannot be written to account for the quirks of every individual family or minor exception to the established norms. I should think that those entering into such a union would be wise enough to discuss the matter of foals well ahead of time.”
“Then perhaps that is another flaw within the system itself, Your Majesty.” The Archmagus began to wax rhetorically. “What are a pair of earthbound parents to do when their pegasus child is told he or she must begin her martial training upon her eighth birthday, and ultimately relocate to the clouds and enlist into the service of the Pegasopolan state, or the child shall forfeit that legacy that is its right by birth?”
“Thou wouldst have me dictate the fine details of every family's lives then, Archmagus?” Commander Celestia countered deftly, “Hast thou no faith in my little ponies and their ability to attend to the rigors of their own lives?”
My daughter made a point of catching my eye, and I nodded, giving her permission to speak. Normally I would not have been overly concerned by such a point of decorum, but after Gale’s earlier gaffe it pleased me to see my daughter acting somewhat more circumspect. “If I might, Commander,” Gale waited until she received the Commander’s permission to continue. “While laws and governments cannot be built around attending to every minor detail, surely more could be done to affirm the bonds between pony nations and provide succor to mixed families without unduly disrupting the current state of affairs?”
The Archmagus was quick to jump upon my daughter’s words and voice her own agreement, essentially repeating what Gale said, but using a great deal more time and verbiage in the process. Once she had said her piece, the Commander took a few moments to consider the matters before giving her answer. “Indeed, it is as thou hast said. Hence, the purpose of thy visit, young Gale, and those like thee. I am but one pony, arbiter or no; I entrust much of the management of the pony nations to those whom both I and the nations consider capable.” I felt the Commander’s gaze linger upon me significantly after that remark.
There was certainly truth to her words. While Commander Celestia was the overall ruler for the three pony tribes, she could hardly take an active role in management of all three governments on a daily basis. In truth, the Ephorate and Gerousia largely saw to the rule of Pegasopolis, with the Commander often doing little more than verifying their decisions. Her response to the very report I had been tasked with delivering had been little more than a rubber stamp of approval upon the choices made in her absence. While I am no expert on the matter, I suspect that her rule over the earth ponies operated in a similar manner.
That fact brought an intriguing possibility to mind. If the bonds between the pony tribes had grown weak, perhaps it was because the one who was to bind us together lingered overlong amongst the unicorns and rarely involved herself in the affairs of the other tribes. “Mayhap, Commander, it is time that you took a more active role in Equestria's affairs. Few ponies in Cloudsdale have ever had the opportunity to lay eyes upon you, and the Commander's residence has remained unoccupied for more than a century.”
Young Midnight Sparkle spoke with all the innocent curiosity of youth. “Is that because Her Majesty does not wish to be under the roof of her exiled sister?” (4)
4: While Princess Luna shared the throne of Unicornia with Celestia prior to her exile, after her appointment as Commander of Pegasopolis Luna largely preferred living among the pegasi. Given her rather infamous jealousy issues, it’s not surprising she preferred the title and tribe she didn’t have to share with her sister. Luna’s adoption of several Pegasopolan customs did little to endear her to the court in Canterlot, which naturally drove her closer to her winged subjects.
The Commander stiffened visibly at the mention of Commander Luna. ‘Twould seem that even after more than a century that wound was still raw. The Archmagus cuffed her daughter upside the head and whispered a sharp rebuke. “Midnight! We do not talk about such things in court. Be quiet, daughter.”
Midnight rubbed a hoof on the back of her head where the Archmagus struck her, and she shot a resentful glare at her mother. “But the other day thou didst say—” Whatever the child was about to say died in her mouth as she wilted under under her mother’s furious glare.
With her daughter chastened for the moment, the Archmagus returned her full attention to the Commander and offered a deep, repentant bow. “My sincerest apologies for my daughter's uncouth comment, Your Highness. 'Twas a misjudgment based on youth rather than malice, I assure you. Once our business here is concluded, I shall see to it that she is suitably chastened in a manner that will ensure there are no further incidents of this sort.”
The Commander held up a hoof to forestall any further commentary. “Peace, Sunbeam. It is a filly’s nature to not grasp the meaning of their words or the pain they might cause others. I am sure thy daughter is already suitably chastened.”
Archmagus Sparkle gave another bow. “As it pleases you, Your Majesty. I still think I shall deny her any dessert for the next few weeks.”
“That is thy right as her mother,” the Commander conceded. She took a deep breath, gave a slight shake of her head, and then spoke as if the last few minutes after young Midnight’s outburst had not occurred. “Thy argument is well-crafted, Shadow. Though I lack the leeway to yet venture forth, it has been far too long since I left Canterlot for an extended visit with any of my subjects. With three governments to manage I rarely have a moment to spare for anything beyond duty, let alone several weeks removed from the heart of Equestria’s bureaucracy.”
The Archmagus seized upon the opening that statement left her. “'Tis another example of why there needs to be reform. Even for one so blessed as Your Majesty, more than a century of unceasing, unrelenting duty is too much to ask. A reformed government might allow you greater freedom to move as you please, and even enjoy a moment’s rest. For all the length of my service to Your Majesty, the only times I can recall you leaving Canterlot was on those occasions when a grave threat to the safety and stability of Equestria required your presence.”
“That is my recollection as well,” I agreed.
The Commander frowned shook her head. “Neigh. I distinctly recall a visit to Manehatten not so long ago. There was a parade, and I spoke at length with Mayor Able.”
“Mayor Able Mind of Manehatten died more than fifty years ago, Your Majesty,” the Archmagus calmly informed her.
The Commander gave several surprised blinks before her wits fully restored themselves. “I—yes, of course. Has it truly been so long? I recall the day clearly...” The Commander let out a weary sigh, and sank into her cushions. “Mayhaps the both of thee are indeed correct. I have lingered so long in Canterlot that the days have all begun to blur together. I think I would enjoy the opportunity to be elsewhere, for a time. Especially if I might serve the realm and my subjects by doing so as well as myself.”
“I believe that it would be to all of ponykind’s benefit if you bestirred yourself from Canterlot for a time, Commander.” I was careful to keep any hint of condemnation out of my voice, for all that I thought poorly of her choice to linger in Canterlot within the privacy of my own mind. “'Tis unfortunate that the great majority of your own citizens have never had the opportunity to lay eyes upon you, ma’am. 'Twould no doubt strengthen the bonds between tribes if the one who binds us together were not some distant, unknown figure to most of ponykind.”
“There is great wisdom in the Ephor’s words.” I immediately went on guard at hearing such a statement of praise from Archmagus Sparkle. ‘Twas likely she would only offer such complimentary words if I had played right into her hooves. “A review of your realm is perhaps long overdue, Your Majesty. If it is your will, I can see to the needs of Canterlot and Unicornia in your absence. 'Tis my duty and pleasure to do so.”
And thus was the Archmagus’ true purpose revealed, I was sure. The Ephorate and the earth pony Cabinet had long enjoyed a certain degree of de facto autonomy in the Commander’s absence. If the Commander was to have an extended absence from Canterlot and Unicornia, ‘twas likely that much the day-to-day running of the queendom would fall into another’s hooves. The Grand Vizier and Archmagus of Canterlot would be the logical choice for such a post. If half the rumors Gale had gathered about her had any truth to them, I shuddered to think what Archmagus Sparkle might do when spared any oversight or restraint from the Commander.
The Commander turned to face her vizier, and for a moment I dared to hope that she too had seen the Archmagus’ designs and would promptly put an end to them. Instead, much to my dismay, she simply nodded in agreement and declared. “Long has it been since Canterlot fared under the eye of a steward. I confess a longing to stretch my wings now and again, and I have every confidence that my realm could survive for a time without my presence to oversee every minor details of leadership.”
While I confess that I could not begin to fathom why the Commander retained Sunbeam Sparkle’s services or granted such a position of honor, it is not my place to question her decisions. No doubt, she had her reasons for trusting one who seemed so utterly untrustworthy. In any case, there were other matters at hoof. “Shall I advise the Ephorate to begin making preparations for your arrival? I suspect the Commander's Residence may require some freshening up after spending more than a century unoccupied.”
“Aye, the Commander’s Residence.” Commander Celestia frowned and idly traced a hoof over the marble floor. “It does not seem proper, that I have held the post for more than a century without ever spending a single night in the official residence for the Commander of Pegasopolis. I would be grateful if thou wouldst arrange to have it made ready, Shadow. ‘Tis far past time I occupied it, even if only for a brief time.”
“Quite right, Your Majesty.” Much to nopony’s surprise, the Archmagus remained entirely too eager to see the Commander to absent herself from Canterlot. “‘Twould not do to have you remain so long absent from Pegasopolis that your subjects forgot who their Commander was.”
Much as I hate to confess it, there was some truth to the vizier’s statement. While everypony was well aware that Commander Celestia ruled amongst the pegasi, her long absence had rendered her theoretical leadership largely moot. The Ephorate had managed the day-to-day affairs of the pegasi for so long that the Commander was little more than a figurehead. While I believed the Ephorate had managed things quite efficiently in the Commander’s absence (though my own membership in that august body did perhaps bias me), it seemed unfitting that our Commander-in-Chief did not actually exercise command.
“So the matter is settled, then.” Commander Celestia gave a single sharp nod. “Once all the proper arrangements are made, I shall make extended visits to the other two tribes under my care.” She waved a hoof to her vizier, and added. “Such a visit would also be an ideal opportunity to discuss some of Sunbeam’s plans for an administrative restructuring of Equestria, as well.”
“I should think so, Your Majesty,” Archmagus Sparkle quickly agreed.
“I am glad we are in accord.” The Commander smiled down approvingly at her vizier. “I do hope that an extended absence from thy tower and experiments, not to mention the comforts of Canterlot, will not be too pressing a burden for thee, Sunbeam?”
Well played, Commander. Well played.
The Archmagus blinked in surprise, and her mouth hung half-open as she struggled to find an answer to the question. The Commander’s trap was well-laid though, and after a pregnant pause Archmagus Sparkle had no choice but to bow and reluctantly agree. “No burden is too great in the service of Equestria, Your Majesty. How long shall we have before we depart for Cloudsdale? There are many preparations to be made, not to mention the matter of my daughter and whether she is to accompany me or remain here in our absence.”
Young Midnight’s eyes brightened and her ears perked up at her mother’s words. “Oh, please allow me to venture to Cloudsdale with thee, mother! ‘Twould such an exhilarating place to visit. The thought that naught but empty air exists beneath our hooves, separated by what can be easily dispersed...” A thoughtful look appeared on the child’s face, then she turned to face myself and my daughter. “Is it true that a coin dropped from the heights of Cloudsdale would fall so fast that upon reaching ground level it would strike anypony below with lethal force?”
While I was deterred by such a morbid line of questioning, my own daughter seemed unbothered by the child’s oddities. “I am afraid I would not know,” Gale informed the filly. “We do not have any coins in Cloudsdale.”
“Troubling.” The child brought a thoughtful hoof up under her chin. “Mayhaps I should—”
“Midnight,” her mother firmly interrupted the filly’s train of thought. “Thou art interrupting whilst the adults are discussing matters of import.” The chastened filly fell silent once more, and the Archmagus turned and bowed to Commander Celestia. “‘Twould seem I am compelled to apologize once more for my daughter’s behavior, Your Majesty. I assure you, she is normally far better behaved.”
“Fillies will be fillies, Sunbeam.” The Commander offered a gentle smile to young Midnight, who hesitantly returned it. “Do not trouble thyself over the matter.”
I suspect young Midnight would not enjoy what would come to pass at this meeting’s end. Twice now she had troubled her mother before her queen, and the Archmagus did not strike me as one who would be lax in disciplining her daughter. I suppose I should be grateful that I adopted Gale at an age when such youthful indiscretions lay in her past.
The Archmagus spared a quick glare for her daughter, then delicately cleared her throat and returned to the matter at hoof. “So, how soon are we to arrange for Her Majesty’s visit to Cloudsdale? If you will forgive me for saying so, Ephor, you seem quite eager to see Her Majesty take up the mantle of Commander in Cloudsdale.”
I conceded the matter with a nod. “Much as I am sure all Cloudsdale would love to see their Commander, I do not see the need for great urgency. Pegasopolis has endured your absence for many years, Commander. It can endure a few weeks longer while we see to it that matters are properly arranged. Would you like to oversee the preparations for your visit personally, Commander?”
Commander Celestia favored me with a smile. “I have every confidence in the Ephorate’s ability to attend to such matters. Compared to ruling over all Pegasopolis, seeing to the details of a formal visit should be a relatively minor affair.”
Gale gently cleared her throat and once more quickly looked to me for permission before speaking. “If I might ask a question of you, Commander, what of the earth ponies and their cabinet? Do they not enjoy your confidence?”
‘Twould seem my daughter’s sense of humor had chose a poor time to manifest itself. Mayhap young Midnight would not be the only daughter facing parental sanction after the meeting’s conclusion. “Gale...”
Thankfully, the Commander’s own sense of humor was in line with my daughter’s, and she took no offense at the rather poor jest. “I thank thee for reminding me, Gale. I shall need to speak with the Cabinet about arranging a visit to the other tribe under my rule as well.” The corners of the Commander’s mouth quirked up as she added. “Re-elections for the Chancellorship are but a month away. ‘Twould be a pity if due to a lack of active campaigning I were reelected for my forty-fourth term with a mere ninety-nine percent of the vote.”
I felt a momentary pang of guilt at my unintended neglect of the earth ponies. ‘Twas an understandable oversight in a conversation between pegasi and unicorns, but an oversight nonetheless. “Of course, we must not neglect the third tribe of ponykind. Mayhap ‘twould be best if you made your visit to them first, Commander. Accommodating ponies of the other tribes in Cloudsdale is likely to require significantly more preparation than a simple visit to the earth ponies.” At the very least any unicorns or earth ponies would need shoes of steel from our thunderforges. Likely, the local architecture would also require some modification to accommodate ponies who were limited to moving in only two dimensions.
“Prudent counsel,” Archmagus Sparkle agreed. While there was still a barely perceptible slump to her shoulders, it seemed she had recovered from the worst of her shock at being so deftly outmaneuvered by the Commander. “I agree. First, a visit to the earth ponies, then we make our way to Pegasopolis.”
The Commander nodded her agreement. “As it is said, so shall it be done.”
“Very well then. Have we any further business to discuss?” When the Commander confirmed that we had settled all outstanding matters, I and my daughter both saluted her. “Good day, Commander. Upon my return to Cloudsdale, I shall inform the Ephorate of thy impending arrival within Cloudsdale, and see to it that arrangements are made.”
The Commander returned our salutes. “I look forward to returning. It has been far, far too long since my last visit, and that was in far less pleasant circumstances. ‘Twill be a pleasure to return to Cloudsdale in a time of peace and harmony.”
With our business in Canterlot thankfully concluded for the moment, my daughter and I made our way back to Cloudsdale. The capital of Pegasopolis made for quite the contrast with the city of the unicorns. While it far too often moves into the realm of gaudiness, there is an undeniable elegance to Canterlot, a level of beauty that Cloudsdale could never hope to achieve. That is not to say that my home city was completely lacking in charm, but it was a different kind of beauty. Where Canterlot was the city of silver, gold, and gemstones, Cloudsdale had a rough, cold austerity to it. While the city was not entirely undecorated, even the finest of cloudcrafters can only accomplish so much when given only a single material to work with. That is not to mention that most pegasi hold to the austerity advocated by Lyequinegus—more traditional clans like the Strikes still built their clanholds with nothing more than simple, roughly-finished clouds.
However, my first destination was not the cold halls of the Strikers, but the far warmer clanhold of the Doos. I might have returned to my own clanhold to rest from my journey, but the news that our Commander would be returning to us had lit a fire within my breast. I would find no rest until I spread the word.
Mayhap ‘tis also possible that I longed to see noble Rightly again. If her amused smile and coy tone were anything to judge by, my daughter certainly seemed to think so. “‘Twould seem that thou cannot bear to be parted from thy beloved Rightly for even the time thou wouldst need to gain a single night’s rest, Mother.” While I love my daughter dearly, there were times when I lamented her casual lightheartedness and fondness for jesting. A more reserved daughter would not find such joy in discussing my romantic prospects. Gale gently nudged my shoulder and teasingly added, “Or is it thy intention to remain for the night amongst the Doos? I am certain Ephor Doo would be pleased to offer thee a suitable bed. In fact, his hospitality might even extend to offering thee his own. I am sure that outcome would not be displeasing to thee.”
I felt my choler rising once again, not the least because there might have been some small portion of truth to her words. For all that I knew such a thing would not, could not, and should not happen, I still wished that it might be so. ‘Tis a common curse for any pony who finds love, to see the rational mind overthrown by the urges of wild passion. For a moment I envied my daughter’s capacity to remain so sanguine about matters of the heart—’twould be far simpler if I could follow her example.
The Doo clanhold was one of Cloudsdale’s brighter areas. ‘Tis a difficult thing to truly put into words, but something about the complex simply conveyed a sense of open welcomeness that was far too often missing in other homes. Mayhap it was the larger doors and windows, or the thinner, more refined clouds used for most structures which reflected a touch more sunlight and made the angles seems slightly smoother.
In addition to the basics of its construction, there were a few minor touches that made it seem less like a military center and more like a true home. Little things, like the young filly I espied idly sculpting a patch of one wall in a childish flight of fancy, or the presence of stairs and other aids to allow the very young and very old amongst the clan easier access to the entirety of the compound. Or maybe it was simply the way my daughter and I were received with welcoming smiles and nods instead of a more formal reception.
Regardless, upon entering I felt less like a visitor or outside intruder, and more like a welcome guest. A few quick inquiries confirmed that Rightly awaited me in his study, though I could not venture forth to meet him just yet. “Gale, remain here for the moment. Ephor Doo and I have matters of grave import to discuss.”
My daughter offered an entirely too knowing smile. “Ah, but of course. Matters that thy trusted and beloved daughter cannot bear witness to, naturally. Truly, this must be a matter of great sensitivity.”
Despite my efforts to prevent it, I felt my wings shuffle about. “‘Tis the business of the Ephorate.” In truth, there was little I needed to discuss with Rightly that my daughter was not already aware of, but I was loath to have her accompany me in her current jesting mood. ‘Twould be most embarrassing if she were to make such comments within Rightly’s hearing.
“Ah, but of course.” My daughter gave a sagely nod which carried an undercurrent of mockery which I did not fail to notice. “Then I shall leave thee to thy private conversation. Alone. With Rightly.” My daughter’s smile grew all the wider, and her voice dropped to a whisper. “I had thought to make a gift to Rightly, as a courtesy. A sheath for his blade, mayhaps. ‘Twould certainly be a prudent thing for him to have for such conversations. Knowest thou what size of sheath he might require?”
I felt a hint of color rising in cheeks, and I hissed back at her, “Another word, Gale, and I shall turn thee over my knee and let all of Clan Doo bear witness to thy punishment.”
If my threat perturbed her in the slightest, Gale gave no sign of it. In fact, her smile on grew wider as she offered a conceding little nod. “Peace, mother. I spoke only out of concern for thee.” ‘Twould seem my daughter shows her concern by attempting to strike me down through pure humiliation. Troublesome. “Fear not, I shall leave thee to thy business with thy fellow Ephor.” With that my daughter thankfully took her leave, departing to find some other Doos to pass the time with while I met with Rightly. No doubt, she would have half a score of new informants, most of them unknowing, by the time my business with Rightly was concluded.
I stepped into the study, and at last lay eyes upon noble Rightly once more. Biased though I may sound, he truly was a stallion to admire; strength and kindness flowed from his eyes, greeting me wordlessly. He was equally commanding and welcoming as he invited me yonder to our business. In appearance, he was near the mirror of his famed thrice-great grandmother, Daring Doo, save for the obvious differences of gender and that he was brown of mane and tail. His coat, though carefully groomed, did not entirely hide the line of fur where a chain oft hung with a commemorative feather from his late wife. Though she was more than a year dead, the pain of that wound was still fresh in his eyes, lending an air of solemnity to his noble countenance.
“Shadow,” Rightly approached, a gentle smile on his face. “Thou art returned to us. I am glad to see it, for Cloudsdale was much the poorer in thy absence.” (5)
5: For all Shadow’s talk about needing to maintain a proper distance from Rightly, the fact that they’re using the intimate ‘thou’ instead of the more formal ‘you’ is rather telling.
“Aye, I am.” Curse my foolish tongue, that I could think of nothing wiser than the blindingly obvious to say. It was not fair that he should be so fine to look upon when ‘twould be improper for us to act upon our desires. I confess that in my darker moments, I have felt some measure of resentment towards his late wife for keeping him from me.
Thankfully, Rightly was more than willing to fill the silence I had created. “I trust thy business in Canterlot went well?”
Ah, yes, business. “Aye, that it did. Naught went amiss, save for some minor butting of heads with the Commander’s grand vizier.” Rightly raised an inquiring brow, and I clarified. “Sunbeam Sparkle overreaches herself in many ways. I think that e’en the lofty posts of archmagus and grand vizier are not enough to satisfy her vain ambition.” I grumbled and idly kicked at a nearby tuft of cloud. “Her attempt to make an advance upon me was also most unwelcome.”
I was gratified to see a brief flash of jealous fury within Rightly’s eyes, though quickly restrained. “I see. Still, from the tone of thy account I take it that this was a minor matter, and quickly dealt with?”
“Aye,” I confirmed. “I do not think I have endeared myself to her, nor her to me, but it has not had a negative impact upon Pegasopolis’ standing in the Commander’s eyes. In truth, I think I might have gotten the better of her, at least in one or two matters.” Certainly she did not seem pleased to learn that the Commander would not allow her free reign to manage Unicornia whilst the Commander was elsewhere.
Naturally, that thought led to the matter of true importance behind my visit. “As I said, though, that is but a trifle. I come bearing news of great import for all the Ephorate—though it might be wiser to wait until all are gathered together to announce it, I do not know if I could contain myself for the hours it would take to send out messengers and assemble our brethren.”
“‘Twould take more than a few hours to arrange a full meeting of our ranks,” Rightly informed me with a slightly weary smile. “Swift Blade is in the midst of an extended tour of inspection ‘mongst the Long Patrol, and Bright Charger made for the border after learning that there had been a skirmish between one of our patrols and the griffons.”
So prior to my return, three-fifths of the Ephorate had been absent Cloudsdale? It sat somewhat ill with me, to have such a large portion of our leadership in the field during a time of peace. “This matter with the griffons—‘tis nothing serious, I hope?”
“Neigh,” Rightly offered me a reassuring smile. “‘Twas most likely a mere raid by some brigands who thought to test our defenses after hearing one too many tales of how ponies are weak and easily subdued. The hunting down of a single nest of bandits is hardly a matter that requires an Ephor’s personal attention, but...”
“‘Tis not Bright Charger’s way to remain in Cloudsdale when she might take the field.” Despite having served as an Ephor for several years, in her heart Bright Charger would always be a line officer. While her propensity for leaping into the maw of battle was at times quite vexing, I cannot deny that there was some value in having an Ephor in the field. If nothing else, it prevented our soldiers from feeling the sense of disconnection that so plagued the Commander’s own relations with her winged subjects.
Thankfully, my dilemma was now resolved quite neatly. “If two of our ranks are absent, there seems little point in calling a full meeting of the Ephorate. ‘Twould be far simpler for me to call upon Steel Striker and speak with him as well.”
“Aye, that it would.” Rightly smiled at me and casually placed a hoof on my shoulder. “Now, Shadow, cease thy bandying of words and provide me with this momentous news ‘ere my curiosity drives me to madness.”
I would have done so, if not for the way his touch distracted my mind. I confess that I found it unaccountably difficult to recall precisely what it was I needed to speak to him of when all my mind could think upon was the feel of his hoof upon my shoulder. I could feel the color rising in my cheeks once more, and a quick look to Rightly showed that he was experiencing a similar sensation. After a few painfully awkward moments he slowly withdrew his hoof, and I finally remembered myself. (6)
6: Oh for the love of Celestia, just bang him already!
“Ah, yes, of course.” I cleared my throat and forced my mind to return itself to the matter at hoof. “I come bearing momentous news. For too long has Commander Celestia absented herself from Cloudsdale, but that absence is soon to be remedied. While the details and precise timing have yet to be arranged, it is her intention to take up residence in Cloudsdale for a time and take a more active role in Pegasopolis’ affairs.”
To my surprise and dismay, Rightly did not seem to find this news as delightful as I did. Instead of the elated smile I had expected, he wore a troubled frown. “Truly? Why does she feel that such a thing is needful? Has the Ephorate’s performance displeased her in some way? Do we no longer hold her confidence?”
I was quite surprised by this sudden melancholic turn of thought, as it was quite unlike dear Rightly. Normally he is more choleric and sanguine of temperament, rather than being prone to such worries. Mayhap I had worded things poorly, leading him to misunderstand the Commander’s purpose? Regardless, I spoke quickly to resolve the misunderstanding. “Neigh, nothing of the sort! Commander Celestia has every confidence in our leadership of Pegasopolis. ‘Tis simply that she has not dwelt amongst the pegasi in living memory, and now she seeks to correct that oversight. If anything, I believe that she fears her long absence from amongst us could be seen as a sign of disfavor.”
Rightly let out a relieved breath at that. “I see. Then I am glad to hear it.” He gave a single sharp nod, and at last offered the smile I had hoped to see from the start. “Too long has the Commander’s Residence remained unoccupied. In truth, I had given thought more than once to ordering the building dispersed or repurposed—there seemed little purpose to maintaining it after more than a century of abandonment. As you said, it has been far too long since we enjoyed the Commander’s presence.” Rightly’s smile faded once more, though at least this time it fell to a more neutral, businesslike expression. “We will have much to do, if we are to properly prepare for her arrival.”
“Aye, it is no small task.” I could already guess at the direction of his thoughts on the matter. “‘Tis likely to require a great deal of supervision and coordination with the Commander to ensure that all is in readiness. Especially as she intends to bring at least some non-pegasus members of her staff with her. ‘Twould seem a task I am quite suited for.”
While I was less than eager to volunteer myself for such service, I knew that I was likely the best choice for it at the moment. ‘Twas my words that had brought the Commander to her decision, and I was better acquainted with the situation in Canterlot and the Commander’s court, and likely to grow even moreso if I made a habit of continuing to visit and put my daughter’s talents to use. While a lesser officer could no doubt be assigned to the task and perform quite ably, there were diplomatic considerations. Placing an Ephor in command of making the needed arrangements clearly showed how greatly we valued Commander Celestia’s presence.
Rightly must have read the thoughts on my face, or mayhap he simply knew me intimately enough to guess at them. Regardless, he favored me with a grateful smile. “Truly, thou art a singular mare, Shadow. Thou hast my gratitude, if for no other reason than that thou hast spared me from such a thankless task.”
Once more, I felt myself on the verge of blushing as if I were still a young filly speaking to her first love. “Such gratitude is unnecessary. I am but doing my duty as an Ephor of Pegasopolis.”
“And thou performest thy duty most admirably,” Rightly deftly countered. “I pray thee, accept my gratitude and praise, e’en if you feel it needless.” Our conversation came to a somewhat awkward end, and I was about to take my leave when he spoke once more. “Might I invite thee to luncheon, first? The flight from Canterlot must have been a long one.”
While I was not particularly hungry at the moment, I certainly did not mind having good reason to linger in Rightly’s company. “'Twould be my pleasure, though I apologize in advance for the devastation to be wrought upon thy larder. Gale is a lover of food.” I gave him a coy smile, and my tone turned light and carefree. “I confess that while I do not have the voracious appetite of youth, I am rather fond of a good meal as well. I trust thy chefs are capable of accommodating two mares whose palettes have been spoiled by the fine dining of Canterlot?”
Rightly returned my smile, and returned my jesting tone. “I am sure we can accommodate the both of thee. ‘Twould not be the first time our kitchens faced the appetite of two hungry soldiers at the end of a long day’s work.”
Easily said by somepony who has not seen my daughter in the midst of an eating frenzy. While she had manners and maturity enough to restrain herself when propriety demanded that she do so, Gale was still young enough that at times her ability to consume food rivaled that of a half-starved parasprite. “Famous final words, Rightly.”
Rightly let out a deep chuckle. “I would not be the first Ephor to be undone by hubris, though I hazard a guess that no Ephor has been lost to a voracious young mare before.” He directed a teasing grin at me, and added, “Besides, I am not overly fearful. Thou and thy daughter have spent the last few days dining upon Canterlot cuisine. ‘Tis likely your appetites will be quickly sated by finally enjoying a proper meal instead of the hoity cuisines of Canterlot. If anything, I fear that thou might overindulge by habit, and have cause to regret it later.”
I offered him the semblance of an offended gasp. “Rightly! Thy words make it sound as though thou thinkest that I might grow plump at thy table.”
“Perish the thought!” He quickly reassured me, a hint of laughter in his voice. “Any stallion who has ever known married life knows the dangers of such an utterance!”
A second later the lighthearted air of our conversation died so swiftly that it might as well have been decapitated by a single well-aimed stroke of the blade. The merest mention of his late wife was sufficient to kill any joy Rightly might have felt, especially when that joy came from the company of another mare. Would that I could do more to comfort him, but any overt action I might take would likely only deepen his pain all the more. It was a cruel thing to see one who I cared for in such pain, and crueler still to know that the comfort I wished to offer him would only be salt in the wound.
I moved closer to him. Not close enough to touch, but nearer than a mere comrade would approach. ‘Twas not much, but it was the most I could offer at the moment to salve his pain. As the two of us made our way to the Doo mess hall he did not object to my nearness, and mayhap even closed the distance between us slightly. I suppose I could take some measure of comfort in the fact that my nearness salved his pain, even if only for a moment.
After a very pleasant though admittedly somewhat awkward meal, Gale and I made our way to the Striker compound. As I have previously mentioned, the Strikers were one of the more traditional clans within Pegasopolis. That statement should be taken as neither praise nor condemnation. There is a great deal to admire in the traditional values of Lyequinegus—duty, honor, austerity, and self-sacrifice for the good of ponykind are all laudable things. However, every tradition has its share of darker aspects, and even the most noble of ideals can become dangerous when pushed to extremes.
For example, while the austerity of Lyequingus has served us well in forestalling the sort of hedonistic debauchery far too many of the unicorn nobles seem to have a great fondness for, it can easily be taken to unhealthy extremes. Whilst Lyequinegus spoke strongly against needless luxury and extravagance, some seem to forget a rather important word in that statement. ‘Needless’ luxury. Sleeping in an uncomfortable bed and eating a single daily meal consisting of tasteless food does not make for better warriors, merely grumpier ones. Austerity taken to the extreme of pointless self-deprivation is no virtue.
Thankfully, the Strikers had not gone to such extremes. While their clanhold was a cold, utilitarian place where each cloud structure was built without the slightest thought to aesthetics, there remained a certain beauty in its simple efficiency. While it was no doubt an exaggeration to think so, it seemed as though there was not a single tuft of cloud or patch of sky within the entire compound that did not serve some immediate practical purpose. Even if I felt the place could do with a few embellishments, I quite preferred that stark austerity to the wasteful extravagance I saw in much of Canterlot.
The Strikers were not so warm and inviting as the Doos, but that was to be expected. That was not their way, and our clans did not share the closeness that my clan did with the Doos. I was respectfully saluted and directed to the Ephor, but there was no warmth in the gesture, merely dutiful acknowledgement of my rank and position. I suppose ‘twas foolish of me to be bothered by the formality, but after the warmth of my greeting by Rightly’s clan it troubled me nonetheless.
Steel Striker met us outside his personal barracks. Ephor Striker was perhaps more than any of us the very image of what one would expect from an Ephor. Striker towered over most ponies, was broad of chest and shoulder, and his blood-red coat was criss-crossed with dozens of scars from his countless battles. I have wondered whether his numerous old wounds might drive him into an early retirement to the Gerousia, but thus far any pains he might suffer had not affected his performance.
To my immense disquiet, Gale made a low, appreciative rumble in the back of her throat when he came into view. I looked at her askance, and murmured under my breath, “Truly, daughter? He is at least a decade my senior.”
“Closer to two, actually.” Gale answered me, still subtly observing my fellow Ephor. “More’s the pity I cannot see him as he was in his prime, nor that his son makes a poor substitute for his father’s appearance. ‘Tis simply an observation, mother, thou needs not fear that I would act upon it. I simply note that he is very ... masculine.”
I suppose there was some truth to her observation, though in all honesty he seemed poor by comparison to Rightly. I could not deny that I was something of a biased source on that question, though. Still, after how mercilessly she had teased me over Rightly, I was not about to let this opportunity slip past. “Mayhap thou should commission a portrait, Gale. ‘Twould last far longer.”
I am sure my daughter would have constructed some witty retort if I granted her time to do so, but I did not. Instead, I trotted up to Ephor Striker and began the meeting, leaving my daughter to hang back at a respectful distance. “Ephor, I trust your clan continues to prosper?”
“Aye.” He answered simply. Another might have bragged of his clan’s latest accomplishments, or informed me of any recent births or adoptions, but Steel Striker is somewhat infamous for his laconicness. Last month, at one of the more uneventful meetings of the Ephorate, Rightly had challenged Bright Charger to get three words out of Steel before the meeting’s end. Charger succeeded in gaining only two words, spoken at the meeting’s very end. ‘You lose.’
The silence that came after his short answer was interrupted by a pained shout from within his house. Steel Striker shot a brief frown over his shoulder, then turned back to face me. “Daughter’s training,” he announced simply. I was unsurprised—the Strikers are known for particularly harsh training methods. Striker once told me that the general philosophy of his clan was that bloody training led to bloodless battle. Though not in so many words, obviously.
I moved straight to business after that polite inquiry—attempting to engage him in small talk or idle pleasantries would only be a waste of our time. As always seemed to happen when I engaged Steel Striker in conversation, I found myself reducing my own speech to the bare minimums as well. “Commander Celestia will be returning to Cloudsdale for an extended visit in the near future.”
A disapproving grimace appeared on my fellow Ephor’s face, but after Rightly’s reaction to the news I was not so shocked that Steel Striker might take the news badly as well. I moved quickly to calm his concerns. “She is very pleased with our performance thus far. The Commander merely wishes to pay a visit to subjects she has been too long absent from.”
“More than a century,” Ephor Striker confirmed. After a couple seconds to consider the matter, he decided that a visit from the Commander actually merited several sentences. He might be spare with his words on most occasions, but he can speak quite well if he feels the situation merits such an effort. “T’will be good to have her back. But while she’s here the Ephorate will have reduced authority. Reminds everypony that at the end of the day we answer to her, even if she keeps us on a loose leash.”
“I do not think that is her intention,” I pointed out diplomatically. Steel Striker’s reaction troubled me—where Rightly had simply feared we might have lost the Commander’s approval, Steel seemed to disapprove of the Commander’s mere presence in Cloudsdale at all. Hopefully Bright Charger and Swift Blade would not also be so hostile. “Are you truly so unhappy to know that Commander Celestia intends to return?”
“Neigh, I am glad to hear of return.” Despite his words, Steel Striker’s grim expression seemed more suited to a funeral. “I am also aware of its implications. Since long before any of us were born her role in our government has been to do little more than affirm the Ephorate’s decisions and accept the Gerousia’s recommendations. It might be that now it is her intention to actually exercise command instead of just allowing the Ephorate rule in her name. Not sure how I feel about that.”
Now that he put it into words, I could quite understand the reasons for his lack of enthusiasm. No doubt his mood would only be worsened if he learned that Sunbeam Sparkle seemed intent upon enacting some form of government reform to further centralize Commander Celestia’s power. While I had every confidence in the Commander’s leadership, ‘twould be a lie to say that I was untroubled by the thought that the Commander taking a more active role in Pegasopolis would necessarily reduce my own influence and authority. Still, such personal worries were of no consequence if the end result proved the better for my fellow pegasi. Ultimately, the Ephorate existed to serve Pegasopolis, not to be a vehicle for vain ambition.
I took it upon myself to calm my fellow Ephor’s concerns. “Be that as it may, I am sure that whatever course of action the Commander pursues will be the one that is best for all of Pegasopolis.”
“But she is more than just the Commander of Pegasopolis,” Steel Striker countered. “If the needs of Unicornia were to come into conflict with those of Pegasopolis, whom do you think she is likely to favor: the subjects she had dwelt with for more than a century, or those she has left neglected and forgotten?”
I could not deny that such a thought was quite worrisome. I myself have similarly thought that the unicorns lie higher in her favor than the other two tribes. However, I still felt compelled to speak in the Commander’s defense. “I think that if such concerns are a worry, then it is all the more important that the Commander make her visit to Cloudsdale to renew her bonds with all of Pegasopolis.”
My fellow Ephor considered that for a moment, then grunted and gave a sharp nod. I was thankful for his acceptance of my reasoning, but the fact that both Rightly and Striker had such a mixed reaction to the news of the Commander’s planned visit troubled me more than I would care to admit. I had expected my news to bring joy to all, and instead I found myself hastily reassuring my comrades that Celestia’s return was not something to be feared or lamented.
I was about to inform him that I had taken responsibility for arranging the details of the Commander’s return when another cry issued from the Ephor’s house. This was no mere shout of pain after taking a sharp blow on the sparring mat, there was an element of pain and terror to it that did not fit anything other than genuine peril. “That is not the sound of thy daughter’s training exercises.”
A dark look came over Steel Striker’s face. “Neigh, it is not.” He wasted no time putting action to his words, whirling about and charging straight through the nearest wall. I followed quickly in his wake—I knew not what might be causing his daughter to scream in agony, but there were many possibilities where my wing-blades might be of value.
Steel Striker set a swift pace indeed, and arrived in his clan’s training room several seconds before I did. At first I could discern little of what had passed due to the Ephor’s furious bellowing, his daughter’s continued wailing, and the rapidly forming crowd of Striker pegasi streaming into the room.
Thankfully, those who recognized me made way, and those who did not could either be moved around or moved aside. I briefly wondered where Gale might be—no doubt she had followed in the mad rush to learn what had passed here, but I could not lay eyes upon her at the moment. No matter; judging by the crowd’s reaction there did not appear to be some sort of immediate threat.
I finally broke free of the mass of Strikers, only to find another cluster of ponies surrounding the Ephor’s daughter. I could not yet see what cruel fate had befallen her, but there was blood on clouds and she was still wailing in agony—though by now her cries had quieted somewhat, likely due to her throat simply being too sore to carry on.
The Ephor himself was in the midst of shouting down a pony who I was quite sure must be his son. The young stallion had much of his father’s look about him, though none of his father’s size or sheer presence. Seeing the two of them standing together, or more accurately seeing the son cower in the face of his father’s fury, made it clear that young Hammer Striker was a pale shadow of his father.
“But father,” the younger Striker whimpered, “thou dost not understand! Swiftwing was weak! Was it not in keeping with the ancient traditions of Pegasopolis that I—” The rest of his words vanished as his father smote him down to the floor with a single blow. I was somewhat shocked to see him strike his own son so, and I confess it made me all the more curious to learn what might have prompted Steel Striker to take such action. Hammer clutched his bloodied muzzle and whined pitifully. “Father...”
“Silence.” Ephor Striker snapped at his son. “After what you have done here, you are no son to me.” He turned to a few of his clanmates and growled. “Remove Hammer from my sight. Place him in the brig until I can decide his fate.” He turned about and shot a baleful glare at the still-growing crowd of Strikers. “The rest of you! Cease thy gawking, and obtain the services of a surgeon, an apothecary, or some other medic. A veterinarian, even, if they have the skills needed to help Swiftwing!”
The crowd of ponies surrounding the Ephor’s daughter finally dispersed, finally allowing me to see what had befallen poor Swiftwing Striker. I had half-imagined it to be a mere training accident—she would hardly be the first filly to take a wound learning the art of war. I had earned my share of bumps and bruises at her age, and ‘tis far from unheard of for a trainer to mistakenly strike too hard and do actual injury to their student.
What happened to Swiftwing was no accident, and now I fully understood why her father had been so wroth. In truth, I admired her father’s self-restraint with Hammer, as my blood boiled at the sight: her wings, the very essence of that which set us apart from our kin and defined us, lay before her on the clouds, a fading trail of red now serving as their only link to her body. Blood flowed freely from the short, jagged stumps on her back as bone and sinew—chipped and uneven from her brother’s ham-hoofed assault—mercifully disappearing under a swath of gauze. Swiftwing feebly pawed at the closer of her severed limbs, trying to draw it closer as if her touch would somehow mend them.
“Celestia’s blood,” I gasped in horror. “She has been Clipped.”
‘Twas a rare thing indeed for the Ephorate and the Gerousia to hold a joint session, and rarer still for almost all to be in attendance (the only absentee being Ephor Bright Charger, who was still embroiled in her skirmishes with the griffon reivers). The Ephors and Geronts both had duties to attend to, and in the case of the Gerousia many of its members also felt the troubles that come with advanced age. Such is an inevitable hazard of assembling a council of Elders—the venerable Dawnburst Charger required assistance from one of his granddaughters simply to make his way to the meeting chamber.
I took a place at my father’s right hoof, for obvious reasons, and was quite pleased when Rightly chose to place himself on my other side (1). It had been far too long since I had the opportunity to spend much time with my father—with his ascension to the Gerousia and my own elevation to the Ephorate, duty kept us separated far too often for my liking.
1: Shadow’s father, Cyclone Kicker, was a bit young to be a member of the Gerousia, which normally only contains ponies who have reached retirement age. However, the laws of Lyequinegus made an exception for ponies who were no longer able to serve on active duty on account of injury or illness. In Cyclone’s case, an injury to his eyes early in his career eventually led to blindness as he aged.
As the meeting had not yet properly come to order, I took the rare opportunity to engage my father in casual conversation. “How are you finding life in the Gerousia, father?”
“Tolerable enough,” Father announced, though with a grumble to his voice that made his lack of enthusiasm for his new post clear. “I preferred my days in the Ephorate, though. I’ve gone from having an active role in things to sitting around with all the other venerable elders while the new generation actually runs things.” He let out a snort and shot a disparaging glare in the general direction of some of his fellow Geronts. “For all the talk of advising the current leadership and allowing them to benefit from our collective wisdom, we spend far more time swapping old war stories than actually doing anything of value.”
“I am sure it is not as bad as all that.” I suspect that the platitude might not have sounded as sincere as I would have liked. ‘Twas hard to deny that with the Commander so long absent from Cloudsdale, there was little for the Gerousia to do. Presenting the Commander with the occasional list of recommendations was hardly sufficient work to occupy twenty-eight ponies. Even were Commander Celestia present, I suspect that the Gerousia’s collective wisdom would pale before that of an immortal who had been centuries old when our elders were all suckling foals.
“The Gerousia makes many valuable contributions to the running of Pegasopolis, sir.” I was a bit surprised that Rightly had seen fit to involve himself in our conversation, though perhaps I should not have been. If he one day hoped to ask for my hoof in marriage, then he would naturally want my father to hold a favorable opinion of him. “It is often said,” Rightly continued, “that the Ephorate addresses today’s problems, whilst the Gerousia attends to next year’s.”
“Because leaving the future in the hooves of ponies who have none left is a wise policy.” I confess that Father’s comment caused me some worry, but thankfully his tone remained light enough to convey the impression that he was not entirely serious. He pointed a hoof to one of his fellow Geronts. “If I’m to judge, Dawnburst is likely to be dead in a year’s time. You think he is truly concerned with the future?”
“Many ponies will look to their legacy as they advance in age.” A second later Rightly awkwardly shuffled his wings, perhaps unsettled by his less than ideal choice of words.
“Aye.” A distant look came into my father’s eyes, and his voice turned just the slightest bit downcast. “But some ponies also think to make the most of the days they have left. A legacy is a fine thing to have, but there are times when I could care less how ponies will think of me once my time is over. ‘Tis not as if I shall be present for any adulation or scorn that might be heaped upon me at my funeral.”
I began to grow concerned by my father’s melancholy frame of mind. I knew he had been less than ecstatic about his early retirement to the Gerousia, but I had hoped that he merely needed time to adjust to his new station. ‘Twould seem I had been o’er optimistic in my assessment.
“‘Tis a sad thing, to see warriors grow old.” Father waved a hoof in the general direction of his fellow Geronts. “To know that our best days are behind us, and now we have nothing better to do but gather around to relive our old glories.” He let out a resigned snort. “Yet still, we all play our part, for the good of Pegasopolis. I’ve sacrificed much for our fair country—the years of my life, my health, my eyesight, even a husband, and now ‘twould seem that even my dotage is to be given over to the service of our nation.”
I placed a hoof over my father’s, while Rightly, at a loss for words, struggled to think of what he might say. After a few awkward seconds, my father waved a dismissive hoof through the air. “Bah, listen to me. Now I’ve become a grumpy old codger.”
Rightly found his voice. “If you wish, sir, I am sure we could arrange a proper retirement for you instead of duty in the Gerousia.”
Father grumpily waved the suggestion away. “I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if I didn’t have some kind of work to occupy my time. I might as well keep to it.” He let out an amused snort. “I suppose I’m rambling now. If I’m old enough to be in the Gerousia, then clearly I’m old enough to be allowed to ramble as well.”
“Not that you were spare with your ramblings even when you were still on active duty,” I gently prodded him.
“Another curse of old age,” Father grumbled. “My daughter has no respect for me anymore. ‘Tis fair enough though—my granddaughter has no respect for her either. No doubt thanks to a good deal of encouragement on my part.”
“So I have thee to thank for my daughter’s unique sense of humor.” I gave him a gentle nudge. “I shall not forget that, Father. See to thy defenses, for this crime shall not go unavenged.” I turned to Rightly and favored him with a smile. “I trust that I can count upon the full support of Clan Doo in this coming conflict?”
“Interference in another clan’s internal affairs is usually frowned upon.” My smile disappeared, and Rightly hastily amended, “Though I think an exception can be made in this case.”
Father let out a bark of laughter. “‘Twould seem she already has you wrapped around her hoof, Ephor. One shudders to think how much worse ‘tis likely to grow once you actually begin properly courting her.”
Rightly immediately fell silent and the jovial mood died, replaced with awkward silence. I was sorely tempted to have words with my father about his lack of tact, but that would only serve to draw all the more attention to his indelicate statement. Besides, Rightly might think my offense at my father’s bluntness indicated that such advances would be unwelcome, which was certainly not my intention.
Thankfully, the awkward silence came to an end as Rightly cleared his throat and made an obvious but most welcome change of subject. “Shadow, I would have thy thoughts on the incident within the Striker clanhold.”
Ah, yes. That was the reason for this joint session of Ephor and Geronts, so ‘twas natural there would be some discussion on the matter. “Was there some important fact my testimony failed to account for?” (2)
2: From this, we can infer that Shadow gave an account of what happened to her fellow leaders. Presumably, this wasn’t included in her memoirs because it would result in needless duplication.
“Neigh, thy account was quite complete,” Rightly reassured me with an easy smile. “‘Tis not a matter of fact I seek from thee, merely one of opinion.” He shuffled his wings a bit, no doubt feeling a certain awareness of those limbs now that we were in the midst of discussing poor Swiftwing’s cruel fate. “As you were present for his reaction, I thought you might best judge whether Steel might have authorized the Clipping.”
I thought back to that day, and the Ephor’s reaction. “I do not believe he did. Steel Striker is no fool—if he wished his daughter Clipped, he would have arranged the crime in a manner where it would not be so quickly discovered.”
“Not to mention the sheer idiocy of it all,” Father snarled. “He’ll be lucky to keep his position as Ephor, not to mention that I’d be stunned if his clanmates aren’t planning to ask that he step down as leader of the Strikers. He may have had no role in the crime itself, but it still occurred within his very household, and he still gave the training of his daughter over to Hammer. He need not be guilty of the crime to bear some measure of responsibility.” Father gave an angry wave of a hoof. “To think, a Clipping in this day and age. I had thought such ancient evils were a thing long forgotten.”
“More’s the pity that it is not,” Rightly announced solemnly. He cast a measuring look over the assembled ponies, then turned back to me. “I do not think it likely that he shall be stripped of his place in the Ephorate. We’ve no reason to believe that he was complicit in the crime, and ‘twould be most unfair to heap further troubles upon a stallion who has already lost two children to this incident.”
“The chirurgeons were unable to restore her wings, then?” I had known it unlikely that such horrific wounds might be mended, but still I had hoped that it might be possible.
“Neigh.” Rightly gave a sorrowful shake of his head. “‘Twas a struggle just to preserve her life. The amputation was not done well, or cleanly.”
Father let out an annoyed snort. “Yes, I’m sure the poor filly would be far less devastated if she’d been offered some milk of poppy to dull the pain, and the stumps were properly cauterized after the lout finished mutilating her.” My father scowled at nothing in particular and snorted in disgust. “What is to be done with Hammer Striker, in any case? Is there to be a trial, or...”
Rightly grasped the unasked question easily enough. “Striker confined him to the clan brig, and saw to it that a blade was provided for him. One of the wing blades forged for his sister, in anticipation of her becoming a full warrior of Pegasopolis.” I could not help but admire the aptness of that particular touch. “‘Twould seem that Hammer still had some small shred of honor left within him.”
A fitting enough end to the matter, though a simple suicide was a far cleaner death than one such as Hammer deserved. Still, far better that than a long and drawn-out trial that would put the Strikers’ shame on public display. The guilty party was removed, and justice was served. “I trust Steel also pronounced damnatio memoriae upon Hammer?” (3)
“Indeed,” Rightly confirmed.
3: A particularly nasty form of posthumous punishment, in which all record of the offending pony is erased from the clan archives . To future generations, it would be as if the pony in question never existed. Especially gruesome in a case like Hammer’s where the condemnation immediately followed his death, since it would mean his body would be left to rot on one of the refuse piles below Cloudsdale instead of being properly attended to.
“As good of an ending as the matter can have, I suppose.” Hopefully Swiftwing could take some comfort in the fact that justice had been done to her attacker. Neigh, that was a foolish thought on my part. No amount of justice or righteous vengeance would restore her wings to her. A pegasus without wings was in a truly terrible condition, moreso even than a unicorn denied their magic. So much of what a pegasus is comes from our capacity to fly, our ability to take to the skies at a moment’s notice. ‘Twas possible to live in a city like Cloudsdale without the gift of flight—most of the city is designed with some concessions to those too young or old to fly—but every day would be a constant reminder of the racial legacy she had been denied. Most pegasi who lose their flight chose a life ‘pon the ground, rather than face that.
Rightly’s voice pulled me from my contemplations. “The Commander will not be pleased to hear of this.”
That was a considerable understatement. A second later, I grasped Rightly’s reason for raising the matter. “I am to inform her of what has passed here, then?”
“Aye,” Rightly confirmed, to my sorrow. “I would also ask thee to also inform her of Charger’s ongoing troubles with the griffons. Her last message included a request for the Commander’s authorization to cross the border to rout them out of their holes.”
Well, mayhap there would at least be some small parcel of proper soldier’s business to offset the darker news I had for Commander Celestia. While the Commander naturally needed to be informed of Swiftwing’s Clipping given the severity of the crime, I had hoped that such an unpleasant duty might not fall upon me. ‘Twould seem I was not so fortunate.
While the scandal surrounding Swiftwing Striker’s Clipping had quite consumed Cloudsdale, the rest of Equestria continued on quite oblivious to matters ‘mongst the pegasi. The Commander’s plans to make an extended visit to the earth ponies before her venture to Cloudsdale had continued apace and thus when Gale and I made ready to depart, our destination was not Canterlot, but Manehatten.
I suspect that of the three titles Commander Celestia bore, that of Chancellor of the Earth Ponies was the least burdensome. As a matter of culture, the earth ponies have always preferred a certain level of self-reliance rather than look to their government for support. I confess, even with the benefit of all my years and hindsight I cannot entirely understand that frame of mind. Surely the farms and crafts of the earth ponies could be handled much more efficiently with proper governmental oversight, rather than trusting the average farmer, carpenter, and blacksmith to see to such things on their own. The inevitable result of such complete freedom of action is a descent into chaos and anarchy.
Manehatten shows that well enough. The city has none of Pegasopolis’ austere beauty or Canterlot’s refined elegance. Indeed, it was passing difficult to say anything definitive about the city as a whole. To all appearances Manehatten was not a city that had been carefully constructed and planned so much as a large collection of buildings clustered around a single central location. It was as if the city simply grew as a result of random ponies wandering into its outskirts, building home and business, and then gradually absorbing those outskirts into the city proper without the slightest thought for street layout or defensibility.
Yet for all that, I suppose there was a certain charm to it. While on a larger scale the city was a disorderly mess, if one flew close enough to observe the finer details there was a degree of appreciation to be found in the individual appearance of the buildings. Each home and shop showed something of the character of its owner, as opposed to the more uniform nature of most unicorn cities. Much like the earth ponies themselves, their city simply presented itself as it was, uncaring of any who might pass judgement against it for not meeting some imagined ideal.
The flight was by necessity a slow one, as this time Gale and I did not journey alone. Though it was a dim hope, there was a chance that the Commander might be able to offer some succor to poor Swiftwing. If there were any pony in Equestria capable of restoring a pair of lost wings, it would be her. Thus, poor Swiftwing rode upon my back, napping fitfully as we flew.
From what I understood, the crippled filly had fallen into a severe state of melancholy ever since regaining her faculties after her Clipping. That certainly matched my own observations thus far—not even Gale had been able to draw poor Swiftwing out of her shell. In the end, there was little we could do beyond allow the filly her peace. Such a dark mood was only natural after suffering such a horrible loss. Hopefully, if the Commander repaired the damage to Swiftwing’s body her spirit would recover soon enough.
Less optimistically, if the Commander were unable or unwilling to restore Swiftwing, then a city like Manehatten might offer many opportunities to find a new family to take her in. Surely there would be at least one family of acceptable means and character that would be willing to take Swiftwing in and help her acclimate to life on the ground. With any luck, we might even find a family employed in a craft that would give her cause to interact with her clan on a regular basis. Mayhap a family of blacksmiths? Swiftwing could still operate a thunderforge so long as she had some aid in gathering the needed clouds, and combining earth pony ironcraft with that of the pegasi might be a valuable thing indeed.
I took some comfort in pondering various scenarios and outcomes for young Swiftwing, ranging from the realistically optimistic to mere flights of fancy like the Commander taking Swiftwing for her own. I found such relatively idle thoughts a soothing diversion—certainly far better a use for my mind than lingering upon the crimes that had befallen the poor filly or how the Commander was likely to react to the news.
On our way to the Commander’s Manehatten residence, we passed over a park where I espied a single stallion upon a raised platform, giving a speech to relatively small crowd. I was too distant to hear the words, but what little of the general tone of the rhetoric I could grasp was enough to pique my curiosity.
My daughter took note of my curiosity, and moved to address it. “That would be Apple Tree, the Commander’s opponent in the upcoming election for the Chancellorship.” Gale shot me a faintly amused smile. “They say he is likely to be one of the stronger candidates to stand against the Commander, if only because he has a larger family than most, so more ponies will vote for him out of a sense of obligation.”
“It seems a foolish exercise to even bother with such elections in the first place,” I opined. “The Commander wins these little popularity contests by such an o’erwheleming margin that the outcome is a foregone conclusion. Better to save everypony the time and trouble of going through the process.”
“Mayhap so.” Gale spared a look at Apple Tree, still in the midst of his rhetoric. “What confuses me is why anypony would choose to stand against the Commander in the elections to begin with. As thou said, there is no hope for victory in such a contest. Why fight a battle that cannot be won?”
“I can think of several reasons.” Though I was not terribly familiar with the intricacies of earth pony elections, one does not rise to the position of Ephor by remaining wholly ignorant of the nature of politics. Even in a completely different society, certain tactical realities remained true. “Most likely, Apple Tree hopes to gain something merely by standing in the contest.” I waved a hoof down at the small knot of ponies listening to the politician. “Would any of them care to hear his words in other circumstances?”
Comprehension dawned on my daughter’s face. “So he stands against Commander Celestia not because he thinks she can win, but because he seeks the notoriety that comes from opposing her in the election.”
“Not all battles are fought with the immediate objective of claiming absolute victory.” I was somewhat tempted to take the opportunity to begin lecturing my daughter on the finer points of grand strategy, but now was not the best time to play instructor. Still, it would not do to allow my daughter to grow too linear in her thought processes—if nothing else, it reflect poorly upon my ability to properly instruct her in the area of my own expertise. (4)
4: For the record, Shadow’s special talent was asymmetric warfare. I admit, I’m rather curious just what an asymmetric warfare cutie mark would look like, but unfortunately there are no surviving detailed descriptions of exactly what her cutie mark looked like, just a few vague mentions of it featuring a bladed wing.
Our arrival at the Chancellor’s mansion in Manehatten cut short any further discussion on the matter, however. The building seemed to be in the midst of no small amount of chaos, with earth ponies and unicorns both bustling about and attending dozens of varied errands. If not for the fact that two fully armed and armored pegasi inevitably drew a great deal of attention, my daughter and I might well have been lost in the crowd entirely.
Thankfully, the milling collection of groundbound ponies gave us a wide berth until a smartly dressed earth pony stallion approached us. “Ephor, we received word of your impending arrival. If you’ll follow me, the Chancellor await you in—”
Our escort was quite abruptly cut off by one of the young unicorn pages I vaguely recalled having seen in the Commander’s court in Canterlot. “Ephor,” she dropped before me in what was no doubt intended to be a respectful bow, though I’ve little taste for traditional unicorn grovelling, “it would be my honor to escort you to Her Majesty at—”
“Excuse me,” the earth pony interrupted in turn, “but I have already undertaken the task of bringing the honorable Ephor before the Chancellor. Your services are not required here.”
The page stiffened at that, and her upper lip curled up in a politely furious snarl. “My family has been in service to Her Majesty the Queen of Unicornia for three generations. That remains true regardless of where she currently resides, and escorting visiting dignitaries is part of my currently assigned duties. I will thank thee not to interfere with them.”
The earth pony let out an incredulous scoff. “Thou wouldst thou me then, child? (5) And to think, the unicorns supposedly have a reputation for class and sophistication. T’would seem that thou hast forgotten, child, that within these walls Celestia is the Chancellor, not a Queen.”
5: Presumably, this unnamed earth pony official is exaggerating the page’s age—traditionally, most pages in the Canterlot court assigned to Celestia herself would be in their very early teens. Young, but hardly a child.
The page let out a scandalized gasp before drawing herself up and righteously announcing, “Her Majesty Celestia, first of her name, Queen of all Unicornia, Sol Invictus...” As our offended young page proceeded to list every single grandiloquent title the unicorns insisted on bestowing upon the Commander, I quite agreed with our earth pony escort’s impatient hoof waving. I could think of far better uses for my time than hearing such a litany of honors. “...and Benevolent Coryphaeus of all Wisdom, remains my Queen regardless of where her travels take her,” the page finally, mercifully, concluded.
Gale and I exchanged a look, and the two of us wordlessly stepped around the squabbling servants and proceeded along unescorted. It has often been my experience that the less authority a pony has, the more jealously they tend to guard it. It is baffling to me that the Commander’s servants would at times fall into vicious conflicts over such minor affairs as who had the right to place her silverware or provide her with a glass of tea.
Thankfully, there were several signs placed upon the walls and convenient maps to aid any visiting ponies in finding their way around, so we had little difficulty locating the Commander’s office. Truly, I had cause to lament the absence of such helpful navigation aids from the Royal Palace in Canterlot, and was tempted to suggest that the Commander see to adding them at the soonest opportunity. Admittedly, Canterlot Palace suffered a number of other gaping design flaws, such as far too many windows which were incapable of opening or too small to allow a pegasus easy access. If the Palace were meant to serve as a defensive bastion that might be understandable, but the castle was clearly decorative in nature.
After some minutes of following signs and consulting maps, Gale and I finally found our way to the Commander’s office. Earth pony and unicorn alike stepped aside from our path to the Commander. Mayhap word of Proud Line’s fate at my hooves had spread even as far as Manehatten—’twould not be surprising when it seemed half the population of Canterlot had accompanied the Commander in her visit. I was grateful for it—I was not in the mood to have anypony standing between me and my Commander at the moment.
As we neared the entrance to the Commander’s office, I turned to my daughter. “Gale, I would have thee absent thyself from my meeting with the Commander.”
My daughter was understandably taken aback by the request. The frown she directed towards me was troubled, and perhaps a touch offended. “For what reason, mother?”
I looked to the filly resting upon my back, and Gale grasped my meaning quickly enough. ‘Twould be most awkward to have Swiftwing present for the meeting in which we discussed her mutilation. Far better to leave her in my daughter’s care than to hoof her off to some minor functionary, especially one who might not grasp all that the unfortunate filly had suffered. A particularly unobservant pony might even overlook the fresh bandages on Swiftwing’s back and conclude that she was a mere earth pony.
Though Gale grasped my intention well enough, from the way her frown did not fade ‘twas clear that she did not entirely approve. I suppose ‘twas inevitable that removing her from my right hoof would invoke her displeasure, however good my reasons. There was an added degree of stiffness and formality to my daughter’s salute. “I shall fulfill thy wishes, Mother.”
“You have my thanks, daughter.” I made a mental note to do my daughter a kindness at some point in the near future. Gale deserved better than to be relegated to the sidelines, however important her current task might be. I transferred the sleeping filly to my daughter’s back with only a small measure of difficulty.
Gale took it upon herself to nuzzle the filly before she could fully wake. “Be at peace, Swiftwi—” A pained look crossed Gale’s face, and she fell conspicuously silent. Even Swiftwing’s very name seemed a cruelty, given her current condition. I could only pray that the Commander might spare her any further pain.
With my young charge disposed of for the moment, I went onward to meet with the Commander herself. Compared to the throne room in Canterlot, the Chancellor's Office in Manehatten was quite sparsely decorated. In place of lining every exposed surface with gold and coating it with a gross excess of gemstones, the office featured tasteful hardwood falls and floors, supplemented by fine carpets and tapestries. Undeniably elegant and luxurious, but opting for a certain elegant simplicity rather than the overbearing ostentation that appeared to be the current fashion within Canterlot.
The Commander herself sat behind a desk of polished cherrywood, speaking with an earth pony I knew by reputation as Fertile Fields, Vice-Chancellor of the Earth Ponies. In theory, he served a similar function to the Grand Vizier of Unicornia, though the Commander’s extended stay in Unicornia meant that much like the Ephorate, he had long exercised de facto rule. Thankfully, what little I could judge of the Vice-Chancellor’s bearing indicated that he did not begrudge Commander Celestia her rightful rule.
A shadow fell over the Commander’s face the instant I entered the room. Given that she had seemed quite pleased to see me in the past, I could only surmise that word of the Clipping had already reached her ears. That would hardly surprise me—between the need for me to remain and testify for my fellow Pegasopolan leaders and the necessary delay whilst we waited for Swiftwing to be well enough for travel, it was near to a week after the incident had occurred.
Nonetheless, whatever fragmentary rumors had reached the Commander’s ears were a poor substitute for a proper eyewitness account. “Commander, I come bearing grim news. A terrible crime has occurred within Pegasopolis: one of your subjects has been Clipped.”
The Commander visibly flinched at the news. “I have heard the rumors, though I hoped them false or exaggerated. Tell me, Shadow, how did such a thing come to pass?”
“I should think such a thing obvious.” I felt a twitch of aggravation at hearing the voice of the Commander’s Grand Vizier. Though I was quite pleased that the Commander had not opted to leave all Unicornia in Sunbeam Sparkle’s hooves, it did unfortunately mean that the Archmagus remained at Commander Celestia’s side rather than comfortably distant.
Sunbeam produced a dusty tome whose title I could barely read. On the Customs and Traditions of Our Winged Kin: An Account of Pre-Lyequingian Pegasoplis . That title boded ill, and I could guess at her reasons for using such a book easily enough, given the matter at hoof. Sure enough, she opened the volume and quoted the damning passage. “And the venerable Commander Alaemors did declare: ‘If any amongst us should prove themselves incapable of performing a warrior’s duties, then they are unworthy of holding a place within our society. Frailty is the most unforgivable of sins, for an army is only as strong as the least of its soldiers. Toleration of weakness only breeds further weakness, leading to the decline of our great society. If any pegasus, whether adult or child, should lessen our society, let their wings be severed, and let them be cast away as one would a diseased and rotting limb.’”
Sunbeam closed the book with an indecent degree of relish, and a triumphant smile appeared on her face. “I believe that makes the reasons behind the mutilation of that unfortunate child quite clear. Wouldn’t you agree, Ephor?”
Sunbeam Sparkle was beginning to test my patience. “If we are to quote ancient law and verse at each other, I believe I have a passage that is of far greater relevance.” I was quite thankful that my father had insisted I commit the laws of Lyequingus to memory. “‘The practice of Clipping is henceforth banned throughout all of Pegasopolis. Such barbarities have no place in our great society. If any pegasus is found to have done such a thing, then it is they who have proven themselves unworthy of a place in Pegasopolis. Let their wings be severed, and let them be cast out in the place of their victim.’” I turned to the Commander and offered a conceding nod before adding. “Commander Luna later modified the laws to a somewhat more civilized form, though no less harsh in their condemnation of the practice.”
The Archmagus scoffed. “Fine words, but at this very moment there is a filly outside this office whose wing-stumps are plain for all to see. Clearly, these supposedly ancient customs are not so dead as you would have us believe, Ephor.”
I let out an annoyed snort and brushed her words aside with a wave of my hoof. “You would claim that ancient customs that have been banned for centuries are still being practiced on the basis of a single fool’s actions? As disgusting as this crime was, ‘tis but an isolated incident. There has not been another Clipping in Pegasopolis in living memory.”
“Is that truly so?” A malevolent smirk appeared on her face, and light the color of a brightly burning flame flared from her horn. A moment later, a long scroll hovered at her side, suspended in a field of her magic. “I have here a list of two hundred and five young fillies and colts of an age with poor Swiftwing whose wings were similarly severed or mangled to point of uselessness, all within the last twenty years. Naturally the official records state that these injuries resulted from ‘training accidents’ or other similarly benign causes, but one wonders how many of these incidents were properly investigated?”
Sunbeam applied her magic once more, producing another scroll. “‘Tis also passing curious how often foals born weak and sickly or with some other natural or genetic flaw perish suddenly a short time after their imperfections become apparent.”
“Yes, one can scarce imagine what might cause a weak and sickly newborn to perish.” I waved a hoof, dismissing her baseless evidence. “You have no proof of any crime, or even any proof that your supposed statistics are accurate. Surely newborns perish ‘pon the ground as well, and young colts and fillies have ever been prone to wounding themselves at the age when they still believe themselves all but invincible.”
“‘Tis entirely possible that in many of these cases nothing untoward has occurred,” Sunbeam conceded far too easily. I braced myself for her next argument, but despite attempting to prepare myself I was still caught at a loss for an answer when she spoke. “But if even a quarter—neigh, if even a tenth of these cases represent true crimes, I believe that merits investigation, would you not agree, Ephor?”
I took several moments to carefully consider my answer. “I think such an investigation as you propose would uncover no crimes, and serve merely to waste a great deal of time and upset many decent ponies by digging into the most painful incidents of their family history.”
“Ah, we might upset somepony,” Sunbeam remarked with biting sarcasm. “How terribly inconsiderate. Clearly, that is a far graver matter than the possible mutilation or murder of foals within Her Majesty’s realms.” Her smile turned coldly triumphant. “How many more victims must there be, Ephor, before protecting our youngest and most vulnerable subjects becomes as important as sparing the feelings of their abusers? A dozen? A hundred? How many more children must suffer before you will bestir yourself?”
“I grow tired of your disingenuous assertions, Archmagus.” I felt myself growing choleric once more—’twould seem the Archmagus had something of a talent for inciting such moods in me. “This affair is none of your concern, Vizier. The Ephorate does not seek to involve itself in every crime that occurs within the borders of Unicornia, nor do we feel it necessary to harp upon the ancient crimes of thy own society. Are dark magics still practiced within the towers of Canterlot’s great magi? Do your own kind still make dark pacts with foul beings for power, or use your magic to make mind-slaves of the populace?”
“Every society has its ancient crimes from less enlightened times,” the Archmagus conceded far too easily for my liking. Sure enough, she was quick to return to the matter of Clipping much like a dog returning to consume its own bile. “But the matter which concerns us today is no ancient and long-forgotten cruelty, but a horrifying mutilation which occurred less than a week ago in the very household of one of Pegasopolis’s rulers. Not to mention the possibility that more such crimes have passed, only to be deliberately ignored.”
“You go too far, Archmagus.” I could hear the carefully restrained fury in my voice, and forced myself to take a calming breath before I continued. “The Ephorate is composed of ponies whose honor is above repute. We do not flout the Commander’s laws, nor twist their words to serve our personal ambitions. I have been more than tolerant of your continued unwanted and unwarranted interference in matters that are none of your concern, but I begin to tire of indulging your whims. Nothing that passes within Pegasopolis lies within your jurisdiction, and in attempting to involve yourself in our affairs you severely overstep your own authority. Stay your course, or Pegasopolis might take a greater interest in the internal affairs of Unicornia in the future.”
The Archmagus let out a mocking little laugh. “Ah, the diplomacy of pegasi: threats, denial, and deflection instead of conversing like civilized ponies.” She pointedly turned her head to the side, so that she no longer looked me directly in the eye. “If it offends you to have the other tribes look to the welfare of Pegasopolis’ children, then mayhap ‘tis past time your tribe saw to setting its own house in order.” Before I could answer she turned back to me, and took an aggressive step forward. “How do you intend to resolve this latest crime within your tribe’s borders? Will there be significant changes made to ensure that such a crime could never come to pass again, or did you simply plan to inform Her Majesty how awful this is, cast aside the ex-pegasi into the care of earth ponies or unicorns, and wash your hooves of the matter?”
I grew even more wroth with her, if such a thing were possible, and glowered at her balefully. “Do not insult her—she is a pegasus unto the day of her death. Your inability to grasp that the actions of a single deluded young stallion who acted on his own do not represent some deep flaw within pegasus society is most irksome.”
“You may claim that the lad who Clipped her acted on his own as much as you wish, but I am dubious.” Vizier Sparkle gave a dismissive wave of her hoof. “Surely you cannot think it mere coincidence that this supposedly isolated incident perpetrated by a single stallion acting on his own initiative just happened to occur within one of the oldest and most traditional clans in all of Pegasopolis. A clan known for its strict adherence to many of the harsher and more ancient beliefs of your kind, in point of fact. And now, after the filly is Clipped, you have come to place her ‘mongst the other tribes, distant from her own kind, precisely as your own ancient customs say you should. Mayhap the situation is not so clean and uncomplicated as you attempt to make us believe, Ephor.”
I confess that those words unsettled me a great deal. While I had not thought of the matter as such nor intended to do so, in placing Swiftwing upon the ground in the aftermath of her Clipping we were in a sense following the letter of the old laws. I struggled not to let my doubts show clearly upon face, ‘lest the Archmagus see them and seize upon the advantage. “Swiftwing is to be placed with the groundbound tribes as a matter of practicality, not some form of exile because she is unworthy to dwell in Pegasopolis. ‘Tis an unfortunate reality that her injuries no longer allow a life ‘mongst her kin. If she cannot be restored, then it is my firm intention to arrange a proper and loving home for her. I shall hardly kick her to the gutters and cast her from my sight and heart, as the old ways would dictate.”
The Grand Vizier rolled her eyes at me and let out an incredulous scoff. “So you offer her a kinder and gentler form of exile? How very noble of you. And what are her father and mother's opinions on the matter? I can not help but observe that they are notable primarily by their absence.”
I knew nothing of young Swiftwing’s mother—Steel Striker had never married, nor maintained a regular paramour. I vaguely recalled hearing that Swiftwing and Hammer both had been the children of his blood rather than choice, so I suppose Steel must have gotten the both of them upon some willing and suitable mare. ‘Twould not have been difficult for a stallion of his station to find a mare willing to provide him an heir or two, and unlike the earth ponies and unicorns it is not the pegasus way to be overly concerned about bloodline purity or maintaining the bonds of matrimony. The children were his: no other fact was relevant to the matter.
Were I a materialist, I would pay many golden bits to watch Sunbeam make this exchange with Steel Striker. Let her tell him to his face that he was a poor father, and mayhap even allowed his daughter to suffer her cruel fate. Most likely he would stoically endure her words, and then once she ceased her prattling smite her upon the cheek and seek juris ungula . It would be a fine thing indeed, to see her crushed beneath Steel Striker’s iron-shod hooves.
Now was hardly the time for such pleasantly diverting thoughts, however. The Archmagus clearly expected an answer, and as the Commander was bearing witness to our discussion I fully intended to answer her charges. For his part Fertile Fields had absented himself from the room at some point during the argument, which quite possibly made him the wisest of us all. “Your concern for the opinions of other ponies is most refreshing, Archmagus. I am sure that my fellow Ephor would enjoy having a foreigner such as yourself lecture him at length about the failings of his clan and society.”
“Mayhap my words have been blunt and tactless.” I braced myself for another cutting remark from the Vizier. By now, I had quite grasped that any concession she offered would inevitably be followed by one. Sure enough, she unleashed another barb a few moments later. “It would seem that my distress at hearing of the mutilation of a mere child and concern for her well-being have o’erwhelmed my sense of delicacy for the moment.”
Mayhap ‘twas time to turn her own tactics against her. One would think that most ponies would be prepared for such an eventuality, but in my experience a surprising number of opponents could be fooled by such a relatively simple artifice. Few ponies are prepared to have their own weapons turned against them. “I share your concern and distress, Vizier, and am glad to know that we have some point of agreement that we might build upon.” I gave an appropriate short pause before delivering the following strike. “You have my personal assurance that the matter shall be addressed through the proper channels with the utmost swiftness.” I left unspoken the fact that the Archmagus herself was not a part of said proper channels.
The Grand Vizier’s upper lip curled up in a contemptuous sneer. “Oh, so the guilty party will soon be brought before the courts of Pegasopolis, I trust?”
“A trial will not be necessary,” I answered simply. “The guilty party took his own life from shame shortly after his apprehension.”
“All in the name of preserving the honor of his clan, I am sure.” Acid dripped from the Archmagus’ voice. “No need for a proper trial or investigation, just have the culprit kill himself, and you can sweep the whole mess under the rug and pretend it never happened. Beyond which, now you need not worry that he might say something horribly inconvenient, such as claiming that he was acting under his father’s orders instead of acting on his own initiative. Why look into the truth of things when you can simply have the fool who got himself caught removed, shuffle the victim out of sight, and move on with life as if none of this ever happened?”
If Grand Vizier Sparkle intended to insist on continuously running her mouth, my patience might soon reach its end. “This is none of your concern, Archmagus,” I responded tightly. “The Ephorate is not required to obtain your approval before it acts, though I am sure your vain ambition would enjoy such a thing. Pegasus affairs are none of your concern, and continued attempts to interfere in them are most inappropriate.”
Archmagus Sparkle let out an incredulous scoff. “So I am to be unconcerned when I see a mutilated child outside this very office because according to some ancient and long-obsolete treaty it is out of my jurisdiction?” She directed a hoof at her own horn, and let her magic flare slightly to emphasize her point. “Shall I let this preclude my own morality and concern for my fellow ponies?”
Neigh, the cavity in her chest where most have a heart would preclude her showing such concern regardless. Sadly, ‘twould not be politic to speak that thought allowed, so I opted for a more diplomatic turn of phrase. “Your heartfelt concerns for the wellbeing of all pegasi hinders those whose duty it is to uphold the law.”
“Upholding the law?” She countered incredulously. “I see nothing of law in how your kind have addressed this matter. No trial or public inquiry has occurred, or any proper investigation by the legal authorities. Instead you have barbarity and brutality dressed up in the robes of law and tradition.” The Archmagus fixed me with a piercing stare. “I wonder if you might clarify something for me. How precisely did Hammer Striker manage to sneak a wing blade into his cell in order to take his own life? Or did some other pony, perhaps even Ephor Steel himself, in fact offer him the offending blade?”
“And what if he did?” I met her gaze challengingly. “Justice comes in many forms, and not all of those follow the niceties of Unicornia. The guilty party was suitably punished, and the Ephor and his clan were spared the indignity of a long, public trial which would drag the entire family name through the mud. Despite the picture you wish to paint, we did make a proper investigation of things, and found no reason to believe that the Ephor knew of or consented to his daughter’s Clipping.”
“An easy thing for any investigation to conclude when everypony who might dispute that conclusion has been removed from the picture,” Sparkle deftly countered. “You claim that there is justice in Pegasopolis, but all I see is a culture that conspires to cover up its own failings. If there is to be any end to these abuses of the youngest and most vulnerable of Pegasopolis’ citizens, I believe it cannot come from a pegasus.”
“So that is the goal you try to hide behind your forked tongue this time!” I cried out hotly. “You would cast aspersions upon all Pegasopolis as a means to justify granting yourself some o’erwhelming authority to manage our affairs. You—neigh, I thou thee, thou would-be despot—thou shalt not exercise thy tyrannies over Pegasopolis.”
“Calm thyself, Ephor.” The Commander’s voice cut in like like a red-hot wing blade passing through a griffon’s flesh. I confess that as my argument with Sparkle had grown more and more heated, I had near forgotten that we were still in the Commander’s presence. “I am certain that Sunbeam’s intention is not so dubious as thou wouldst believe.”
Her point was well taken. I would have preferred that she take a more active role in this discussion, but from all I had heard that was not the Commander’s way. Her position atop the tribes would quickly become awkward if she were seen to be playing favorites, regardless of the truth of the matter.
Once I had a few moments to regain my calm, I was somewhat surprised at just how wroth I had become. ‘Twould seem that the Archmagus has a definite talent for causing me aggravation.
I opened my mouth to speak, though I confess that I was unsure of what precisely I might say, but my words were stolen from me by a young filly’s cry of pain from the other room. I was on my hooves in an instant, my mind flashing back to my discovery of poor Swiftwing’s gruesome fate only a week past. I suspect that I shall never again hear a child bawling over some minor scratch without being reminded of that horrible day.
In my haste I did some damage to a rather expensive door that did me the discourtesy of standing between myself and my objective. Soon enough, I had returned to the waiting room where I had left young Swiftwing in my daughter’s care. To my immense relief, they were both unharmed, though Gale had taken the crippled filly aside and was speaking to her.
If Swiftwing were unharmed, that did raise the question of where the cry had come from. A few seconds later I espied its source: young Midnight sat at the other side of the room from Swiftwing, nursing a bloodied lip and sporting several rapidly-forming bruises on her face.
I quickly trotted up to my daughter, and my voice came out tight and terse. “What happened?”
A pained look crossed my daughter’s face. “I am uncertain,” she confessed. “I offered to watch over young Midnight for the Archmagus when she passed by on her way to meet with thee. I was speaking to one of the staff to make arrangements for some passing diversion for the two of them, and turned my back but for a moment. One minute they were speaking to each other quite civilly, and the next Swiftwing was striking her and screaming.”
Before I could make further inquiry, Archmagus Sparkle stormed into the room, immediately marching to her daughter’s side. She took a few moments to look over young Midnight’s injuries, then whirled upon poor Swiftwing in a fury. “Thou wouldst dare to strike my daughter?”
“Peace, Archmagus,” Gale hastily cut in, placing herself between the enraged Grand Vizier and her own crippled charge. “‘Tis inevitable that children will have minor scuffles. Neither of them has suffered any lasting harm, and—”
Archmagus Sparkle turned the full focus of her fury upon my daughter. “I trusted thee with the care of my beloved daughter, and return to find her beaten and bloodied. Is this some petty vengeance for my disagreements with your mother, then?” Her horn flared with light the color of an open flame, and I felt the room’s temperature climb rapidly enough to make me begin sweating. “You have erred greatly, Gale Kicker, if you thought that I would tolerate an attack upon my daughter.”
My wing blades snapped forth, not quite moving into striking distance, but placed in such a way that they could quickly move there if I desired it. I felt my mind slide into the state of utterly cold and dispassionate analytical calm that always seemed to come to a pony’s mind when battle was mere moments away.
A clash of arms with the Archmagus would be a quick, brutal thing. That was the nature or any fight between a spellcaster and a proper warrior. Simply put, neither of us had many ways of effectively defending ourselves against the other’s attacks. While I could certainly attempt to dodge her spellfire, that was hardly a viable long-term solution. By the same token, even an Archmagus would be hard-pressed to hold off an experienced fighter who drew close enough to launch a sustained assault. Consequently, whichever one of us hit the other faster and harder would win.
That basic tactical reality created its own diplomatic problems. Since if things came to blows it was vital to strike quickly and with o’erwhelming force, it was a hazardous thing for either of us to drop our guard now that tensions had risen so high. Backing down first would create an easily exploited window of vulnerability, and I did not think it wise at all to give Sunbeam Sparkle an opening she might use to end me.
Sunbeam wore a contemplative frown on her face, and after a few seconds gave an almost resigned shrug, presumably having come to the same conclusion as I. Matters between us had simply escalated too far for either of us to back down now. “So we come to it then, Shadow? So be it.” I tensed, preparing to make my strike the instant I saw an opening, while Sunbeam gathered her power and began crafting some spell which would likely reduce me to cinders if it connected.
Before either of us made our move, the Commander stormed in and gave quick flap of her wings, slamming into the space between us and effectively breaking the standoff. As if that were not enough to make her point on its own, she also subjected us to a dose of the Traditional Royal Canterlot Voice. “STAY THIS MADNESS! ”
The effect upon the both of us was immediate. It is a difficult thing to explain, but the Commander carries a certain sense of authority around herself. While it is normally a subdued sort of thing that merely inclines those around her to a certain level of polite deference, right then that aura of leadership was so o’erpowering that before I even realized it I had taken several steps back, returned my wings to my sides, and snapped off a parade-cloud salute to the Commander. For her part, the Archmagus stepped back and immediately ceased her spellcasing, and seemed to have almost instinctively turned to Celestia and prostrated herself on her knees, as unicorns are wont to do.
“This dispute between the two of thee has gone too far.” E’en if I were not all but compelled to agree with the Commander by her sheer force of presence, I could not gainsay her on that point. If not for the Commander’s intervention just now, it might easily have ended with either myself or the Archmagus dead on the ground. Such a clash would do little good for the rest of Equestria, especially with how delicate matters stood between Pegasopolis and Unicornia at the moment. “It ends,” Commander Celestia declared in a tone that made it clear she would not tolerate any dissent from either of us. “Now.”
I was not mad enough to dispute her. “Aye, Commander.”
“As you wish, Your Majesty,” The Archmagus responded just as quickly. Thankfully, it seemed that the prospect of inciting the Commander's fury would be enough to reign in the worst of Sunbeam's temper. In a way, I could understand her anger: were it my daughter beaten and bruised, I would be sorely tempted to enact an equally swift retribution. However, just because I could empathize with her reasons did not mean I would tolerate her actions.
The Commander fixed me with a baleful glare, then shifted her gaze to the Archmagus once I was suitably cowed. I am not ashamed to admit that Commander Celestia can utterly intimidate me when she sets her full strength to the task. “If the two of thee shall insist on bickering like children, then I shall henceforth treat thee as such.” The Commander fixed us both with a look that was equal parts uncompromising steel and regal disdain. “If either of thee feuds with the other again, thou shalt both be confined to thy quarters, and denied all but the simplest of meals, and of course there will be no desserts.”
I took her chastening to heart. Harsh though her words were, I was also greatly troubled by the mere necessity of such a discussion. It was not a pleasant feeling to know that I had failed her so badly that she felt the need to bawl me out like a fresh recruit. “Aye, Commander. It shall not happen again.”
I prayed that I might be able to keep that promise. For all that I valued my word of honor, if Archmagus Sparkle ever dared to threaten Gale again, I would gladly face whatever condemnation the Commander felt appropriate afterwards. No mother, not even the cold and heartless Sunbeam Sparkle herself, would idly tolerate a threat against her own child.
Speaking of the Grand Vizier... “My apologies.” From the way insincerity positively dripped from her words, and the fact that she only spoke them whilst looking to the Commander, I could surmise that this falsified apology existed only for the Commander’s benefit. “I allowed my choler to overtake me upon seeing the injury of my beloved daughter. My dear Midnight is at a sensitive age to have such violence brought down upon her. To face such cruelty is a terrible thing at any age, but especially she nears the time when her unique talents will manifest themselves. If she is her mother’s daughter, her talents are likely to be considerable.”
“No doubt.” The Commander offered young Midnight a brief reassuring smile before returning her attention to the two of us, her face once more a mask of schooled indifference. “In truth, I care not for how justified either of thee believes thy anger to be. If I were to listen to all the excuses ponies offer off for their misbehavior, I would be occupied until even my days came to end. This ongoing feud between the two of thee ends. Am I understood?”
A rare thing occurred as the Archmagus and I reached a full and near-simultaneous accord. Neither of us were foolhardy enough to say no to Commander Celesita. Though t’was no doubt clear to one of Celestia’s considerable abilities that promise of peace was only secured by coercion, that seemed to be enough to satisfy her for the nonce. “Now that this folly is concluded, let us return to the matter at hoof. On the matter of Sunbeam's proposed investigation into the possibility that Clippings or murders have gone unreported within Pegasopolis, I believe her concerns are well-founded.” If I had not so recently earned the Commander’s wrath, I might have objected to her decision. As it was, she held a hoof to forestall any comment I might offer. “While I think Shadow is quite right that that the vast majority of these cases saw nothing untoward happen, I also believe that e'en if only one in a hundred of these incidents represents an actual crime, that leaves behind too many unaided victims.”
I did not agree with the Commander’s decision, but I would not dare to gainsay her. I could only make the best of the situation presented to me. “If it is your wish, Commander, then it shall be done.” I shot a thinly veiled grimace at Sparkle. “Despite what some might claim, Pegasopolis has no dark secrets to hide.”
“I look forward to seeing that confirmed at the investigation’s end,” the Commander announced decisively.
I gave a sharp nod. “I shall oversee the matter personally, Commander.”
Much to nopony’s surprise, Sparkle objected to that. “Respectfully, Your Majesty, there is a culture of conspiracy and cover-up surrounding Clippings in Pegasopolis. An outside perspective is needed to crack through this ... web of shadows.”
She incorporated my name into her quip. How very droll. “You think it likely, Archmagus, that a pony with little knowledge and few contacts in all of Pegasopolis could uncover that which remains hidden from the Ephorate. Especially when you are an outsider interfering in the internal affairs of Pegasopolis, and likely to be as unwelcome as you would make if I were investigating crimes in Unicornia.”
“Thy points are both well-made,” the Commander declared, effectively ending the debate before the two of us could degenerate into arguing once more. “Fortunately, I have come upon a solution that should satisfy both parties and make the investigation all the stronger: the two of thee shall work hoof-in-hoof in this matter.” She gave Sparkle and I both a look that all but dared us to voice any complaints. “I trust there are no objections to this?”
While I wondered in the privacy of my mind if the Commander had suddenly taken leave of her senses, I would certainly not dare to say as much to her face. “As you wish, Commander.”
From the way her jaw clenched at the news, I suspect that for once Sparkle and I were in complete agreement—neither of us looked forward to carrying out the Commander’s orders. “Understood, Your Majesty.” Sparkle accompanied her agreement with some more customary unicorn grovelling. “It will be as you command. Shall I make plans to proceed to Cloudsdale immediately, or will it be sufficient to begin investigating the matter upon our scheduled arrival in Pegasapolis?”
The Commander raised a thoughtful hoof to her chin for a few moments. “Such an exhaustive investigation will take time to arrange, Sunbeam. Seeing to the preparations for it 'ere our scheduled departure for Cloudsdale seems a valuable use of thy time.”
Sparkle gave a short bow of her head. “You have my assurances that all shall be in readiness by the time we set hoof in Cloudsdale.”
“The matter is settled, then.” At least I would have more than enough time to forewarn the Ephorate and make some preparation to mitigate the damage Sunbeam might cause.
With the business of state resolved, I could finally return my attention to more personal matters. Gale had taken it upon herself to see to the two slightly damaged fillies whilst Sparkle and I discussed our business with the Commander. With no further obligations holding me back, I began checking Swiftwing and Midnight over. “They are fine,” Gale reassured me. “Somewhat battered, but nothing thou needest worry about.”
Swiftwing spared a disdainful glance at Midnight. “I have suffered worse than her on the training grounds, yet she sniffles like a newborn foal.”
Midnight turned to her attacker, her expression neutrally blank. “Maybe I do not wish to cover the pain I am feeling, unlike you.” Midnight’s head cocked to the side, and a faintly curious frown appeared on her face. “Does hurting me lessen your own pain?”
The fillies’ speech seemed to remind the Commander of their presence, and moments later she stood before them, cutting whatever rejoinder Swiftwing intended to offer short. The crippled young filly quailed slightly, no doubt somewhat apprehensive at the thought of meeting her Commander, especially when she had so recently borne witness to the Commander’s displeasure. Commander Celestia’s face softened into a gentle and maternal smile, and she dropped down to Swiftwing’s level. “Hello, my little pony.”
Swiftwing gave a nervous swallow, then looked up to meet her Commander’s gaze and very hesitantly raised a foreleg to salute. “Hello, Commander Celestia.”
The Commander beamed indulgently at her little soldier. “Know that thou art my honored guest, Swiftwing Striker, until such time as we can find a suitable family to care for thee.”
The tension slowly left Swiftwing’s shoulders, and the stubs of her wings twitched in what would no doubt have been a hopeful flitter before her mutilation. “I am most grateful for your generosity and kindness, Commander.”
“Thou needest not thank me for such simple hospitality,” the Commander announced modestly. Having experienced the Commander’s hospitality myself, I can say with confidence that it is anything but simple.
A mischievous smile appeared on Commander Celestia’s face as she leaned her head in close to young Swiftwing’s and declared in for a conspiratorial whisper, “Now, child, once I am finished attending matters of state, I propose that we venture to the kitchens and have our fill of cake. One of the many perks that come with being a Chancellor or a Commander or a Queen is that everypony must give me as much cake as I want.”
Swiftwing gave the first smile I’d seen on the child’s face since the severing of her wings. “I have had this dish on occasion... I remember it being...” Swiftwing’s words slowly trailed off as her eyes travelled over Midnight Sparkle. The younger filly’s ears were flat on her head, and she let out a tiny hiccup that was clearly the result of a suppressed sniffle. I suppose I should not be surprised that Archmagus Sparkle had not yet moved to comfort her daughter. No doubt she hoped that Midnight’s pain might yet be transformed into some manner of political capital.
The Commander met Swiftwing’s eyes, then cast a pointed look in Midnight’s direction before returning her attention to the older filly. Swiftwing followed the Commander’s gaze, but merely remained in place and worried at her lower lip. When Swiftwing remained motionless after several long moments, the Commander very gently nudged her forward.
Swiftwing cast a quick look back to the Commander, and then very slowly and with clear reluctance approached Midnight. The younger filly flinched away imperceptibly as her attacker approached, moving half a hoof-length toward her mother. After several painfully silent moments, Swiftwing spoke in the put-upon tones of a child being compelled into an apology. “It was wrong of me to strike you, Midnight Sparkle. I offer my apologies.”
Midnight regarded Swiftwing with her usual neutral and faintly curious expression, but could not entirely hide the nervous tremble in her voice when she answered. “I-I suppose it is polite to accept. Though I do not even know why you struck me to begin with. All I did was make some inquiries about your wings. Or lack thereof.”
Swiftwing gave an angry twitch that I could not blame her for, but after a tense moment the wounded young pegasus took a deep breath and calmed herself. No doubt the fact that myself, the Commander, and Archmagus Sparkle were all present and giving her our full attention served to restrain any violent impulses. “You made inappropriate inquiries, Midnight Sparkle. My situation is no macabre jest.”
Midnight tilted her head to the side and stared at Swiftwing with unnatural intensity. She very slowly blinked, her eyes ever so subtly out of sync with each other. “Who said your situation is a jest?” The young filly inquired flatly. “I merely wished to understand your predicmo—predika—” Midnight let out a frustrated little snort and stamped on the floor. “Why you are the way you are,” she concluded lamely.
Gale stepped between the two fillies to forestall any further conflict between the two. I went on guard once more, if only because it put my daugher within Sparkle’s line of sight. I did not think it likely the Archmagus would attack my daughter now, but when it comes to Gale’s safety I am perhaps a touch paranoid. “Her predicament,” Gale pronounced the word slowly for Midnight's benefit, “is very raw to her, Midnight. Mention of it is akin to iodine on a wound.”
Young Midnight’s eye’s brightened in comprehension. “Ah! So talking about it will bring her great pain but prevent an infection of the spirit? Is that what you are saying? In that case, I must speak to her about it as often as possible.”
Swiftwing’s ear twitched several times, and voice was thick with barely restrained fury. “Neigh.”
My beleaguered daughter let out a put-upon little sigh. “Only the first instance, Midnight. T'would be akin to the loss of your horn.” I suspect that Gale most likely regretting her decision to involve herself in the first place. She might have been better advised to leave the matter to the Commander, who appeared fond of fillies and was no doubt substantially more experienced in such things than the both of us together. Unfortunately for my poor daughter, Commander Celestia seemed content for the moment to observe Gale’s floundering.
The two fillies gazed in each other’s general direction, awkwardly refusing to meet each other’s eyes. Midnight was unconsciously rubbing a hoof along her horn, whilst Swiftwing’s tail was agitatedly flicking back and forth. I suppose awkward and uncomfortable silence was at least preferable to the previous state of things between them.
‘Twould be wise to secure this tentative peace while it lasted, else we might find ourselves relegated to serving as mediators between the two for hours longer. “The fillies have settled their dispute, it would seem. Mayhap it is time we returned to the business of running Equestria?”
“Ah, once again I must neglect my subjects for the sake of my realm,” the Commander grumbled under her breath. It seemed that unlike myself or Sparkle, Commander Celestia preferred the problems of fillies to those of nations. I suppose they were at least more easily solved. At length, she turned to my daughter. “Gale, if thou couldst escort thy two young charges to the dining room and watch over them for a few moments longer? Fear not, I shall be along to take them off of thy hooves shortly.”
Gale nodded, though by the frown on her face I would hazard that she misliked being relegated to minding over the foals. “Aye, Commander.” She reluctantly began leading the two fillies off, making a point to keep herself between the two of them to prevent any further clashes from escalating beyond harsh language and sullen glares.
As the fillies were about to make their departure, Sparkle finally deigned to speak about her Midnight’s behavior. “I will give my daughter a lecture on social decorum later to prevent further incidents such as this, Your Majesty.” She directed a pointed glare at Midnight, who gave a slight flinch and turned her head so that her mother could not make eye contact.
I had some small measure of sympathy for Sparkle as a fellow mother, and one who had also found her daughter vexing at times. However, ‘twas abundantly clear that more than mere lectures are needed for yon filly, and I rather strongly suspected that many of young Midnight’s oddities were due to how Sparkle raised the child.
Once Gale and the fillies were out of the room, the Commander turned to the two of us and offered a slightly strained smile. “Well, if two young fillies can resolve their differences, surely an Ephor and a Vizier can manage?”
Surely the Commander does not oversimplify intergovernmental politics so easily? There was a world of difference between my dispute with Sunbeam Sparkle and the minor scuffle between Swiftwing and Midnight. (6)
6: I don’t think Celestia would agree.
“I am sure we can find some way to develop a proper working relationship.” Sparkle announced coolly. “If we are to take your example to heart, Your Majesty, then perhaps I might write Shadow’s father to request her presence for an overnight visit? No doubt we could trade idle gossip about which stallions are particularly pleasing to the eye and strike each other about the head and shoulder with pillows.”
“Sunbeam...” A hint of warning entered the Commander’s voice.
“How would Your Majesty prefer that I bond with the Ephor and resolve our ‘foalish’ disagreement, then?” Sparkle demanded. “Shall I offer her fine gifts? Wine her and dine her? Ask her politely to accept my friendship?”
“Mind thy tongue, Sunbeam,” the Commander snapped. For a second I hoped that she might be genuinely wroth and I was bearing witness to Sunbeam’s downfall, but a moment later Commander’s Celestia’s scowl transformed into an amused smirk. “If the two of thee continue thy arguing, I might conclude that, like many young ponies in the throes of passion, the two of thee express thy mutual affection through constant bickering. I am sure an arranged marriage with my own blessing would do much to strengthen the bond of friendship between Pegasopolis and Unicornia.”
The Commander can be cruel when the mood takes her. Better that I accept Sparkle’s proposal of a meal—the worst she might do is poison me.
Thankfully, the Commander did not make good on that most terrifying of threats. “I leave the details of any arrangements to the two of thee. All I ask is that you learn to properly work alongside one another, rather than remain constantly at each others' throats.” A haunted look crossed the Commander’s eyes, and her voice took on a slightly ethereal tone as she added, “It is of the utmost importance for all Equestria that the two of thee set aside thy differences.”
The Commander’s point was well-taken regardless of my personal dislike for Sparkle. Shadow Kicker might freely despise Sunbeam Sparkle, but open discord between an Ephor of Pegasopolis and the Grand Vizier of Unicornia could cause no end of difficulty. ‘Twas best if we maintained a level of professional courtesy, at the very least. “Aye, Commander.”
The Archmagus genuflected towards her queen. “It will be as you wish, Your Majesty. Protecting the children of Equestria is, of course, of far greater importance than any personal dispute between myself and the Ephor.”
The Commander looked the both of us over, and gave a slight nod. “Very well.” Her businesslike demeanour faded away, and an impish smile took its place. “Now, unless there is anything else, I do believe I have two young fillies to dote upon.”
So pleased was I to be done with the uncomfortable topic of Clippings that the second matter at hoof nearly slipped my mind. Thankfully, I remembered the matter in time. “There is one other thing, Commander. Griffon reivers are troubling our borders once more. Ephor Charger wishes permission to cross into griffon territory to put an end to the attacks.”
“You want to invade the griffons?” Sparkle let out a disparaging scoff, and was no doubt preparing some scathing remark when she recalled the all-too-recent censure the both of us had received from the Commander. When she spoke again, her voice had returned to it usual calm, controlled tones. “Your Majesty, I strongly advise against such a course of action. Minor border incursions along the griffon border have been an unfortunate reality ever since our first contact with the griffons. A few bandits are hardly worth causing such a fuss over.”
“Those bandits are victimizing innocent ponies,” I countered tersely. “Ponies that are under the Commander’s protection.”
“And I am sure that warriors of Pegasopolis can adequately chastise any raiders who dare cross the border,” the Grand Vizier answered. “Any bandits who cross the border will be dealt with by our forces. Those that do not are hardly a concern for Equestria.”
“Equestria will always be plagued by griffon reivers if we allow them to establish secure bases on our frontiers.” I suppose I should not be surprised that a pampered Canterlot pony like Sparkle had no understanding of military strategy. “Seeing off the occasional raid does little to deter future attacks, and unless you would dispatch a full army to the region our patrols cannot hope to protect the full length of our border against any possible intrusion.”
“So you would provoke the griffons to war because your fellow pegasi cannot secure our borders?” the Archmagus demanded acidly, earning her a reproving look from the Commander.
“We have hundreds of miles worth of land and airspace to secure,” I answered her calmly. “Unless you wish for hundreds of thousands of ponies to continuously comb every single inch of ground, clump of dirt, and speck of cloud, there will be opportunities for small bands of reivers to slip past our defenses.”
“Your point is well-made,” the Archmagus reluctantly conceded. “However, a cross-border assault on these bandits would be most unwise. It has long been said that the only thing which can ever unite all the griffons in a single cause is a threat from without.” (7)
7: The griffons at this time were still politically fragmented. While Griffonia was theoretically a single political entity united under the High King, in practice most High Kings were largely powerless figureheads. Effective power within Griffonia lay in the talons of lesser kings, dukes, and other nobles, most of whom constantly plotted, schemed, and warred against each other. Thankfully, modern griffons only kill each other over politics once every few decades.
“You would have the reiver’s victims go unavenged, then?” I challengingly met the Archmagus’ gaze, all but daring her to confirm my accusation.
The Commander had apparently heard her fill of our discussion. “Vengeance accomplishes little, Shadow. As one of our great sages once said, ‘an eye for an eye leaves the whole world blind.’” Commander Celestia slowly shook her head. “If we send forces across the border into griffon territory, it would violate our long-standing peace treaty with the High King. How do you think our subjects on the border would fare in the case of open warfare between pony and griffon?”
Her point was well-made, but I was less than happy with her conclusion. That is not to say that I disagreed—the cold logic of the situation was that a single day of war would kill far more than a hundred years of reiver raids. However, just because the logic was clear and indisputable did not mean I had to like it. “Very well, Commander. I have nothing more to report.”
The Commander turned to her archmagus and raised a single eyebrow. Sparkle bowed once more, since that was apparently a prerequisite for unicorns to have any form of communication with their queen. “There is nothing else that requires Your Majesty’s immediate attention, neigh.”
The Commander gave a single nod. “Then I bid thee both good day. Though it saddens me, I am afraid you should return to Cloudsdale posthaste, Shadow.” She offered me a warm smile that seemed more personal than one would expect from their Commander. “‘Twould be a pleasure to interact with thee when duty does not strictly dictate our roles.” With that rather cryptic comment, Commander Celestia departed.
Once the Commander was out of the room, Archmagus Sparkle turned to me and unleashed a particularly baleful glare. No doubt that moment of personal favor from the Commander had done little to endear me to her. “It would seem we are destined to work with one another until this matter involving the Clippings is concluded.” From the way the words left her mouth, one would think that the Commander had ordered her to serve as barracks-whorse. Granted, that might be a far better use for Sunbeam Sparkle than her current position.
Sadly, the Commander’s prohibition on open quarreling prevented me from voicing those thoughts. Instead, I opted for something moderately more diplomatic. “Let us pray it is resolved quickly, then.”
“Quite.” Sunbeam Sparkle’s eyes narrowed, and she unflinchingly met my gaze. “Do not cross me in this matter, Ephor. There are ways I might express my displeasure with you that you will not enjoy, and not even Her Majesty can save you from the full measure of my wrath.”
“I shall bear that in mind.” I did not bother offering threat of my own. Words are easily spoken, and all too often meaningless. If it came to that, I would let my blades speak for themselves.
My colleagues' concerns about the Commander suddenly rang far truer to me. I know not what concerned me more: her haste to ignore the ancient treaties that bound all Equestria together simply to sooth a single pony's ego, or her willingness to abide by a treaty even when the other signatory freely violated it, simply because that same pony advised such a course. Neigh, perhaps what troubled me most of all was Commander Celestia’s decision to overlook Sunbeam Sparkle’s naked lust for power, even if that power came at the cost of all Equestria.
Because Shadow’s autobiography is an account of her own life and actions rather than a proper narrative of all the events of the Lunar Rebellion, there are some aspects of the conflict wh ich she does not focus upon because they had little relevance to her. In order to correct that and provide a broader sense of scope to my readers, I’ve taken the liberty of including some additional material for added context.
While “The Assassination of Apple Tree by the Coward Danver Carrot” is technically a work of historical fiction, I found it to be well-researched enough to be accurate, and far more readable than a proper academic text. Given the rather contentious nature of the subject, there’s a lot of biased research on the matter, especially where folklore and popular legend take the place of proper history. Thus, with the author’s permission, I’ve opted to include a few excerpts from his book to provide the readers with more information on what’s going on with the earth ponies.
I would also like the apologize in advance for the rather unique flavor of this excerpt. Blame the original author of the book, who decided to have everypony talking in thick modern country accents. I’m not sure how accurate the accent is compared to how ponies actually spoke nine hundred years ago, but I suppose he would sound rustic, so using an equivalent modern accent works for conveying that impression to readers.
It all started with a real simple idea. Them that works the land oughta own the land too.
Things used to be that way, back in the old days. A farmer had as much land as them an' their family could work; no more, an’ no less. S’only proper. But the thing is, some farms ended up bein’ bigger an’ better than others. That let them farmers get a little richer than the others, an' eventually some of them started figurin’ they oughta have more on account of havin’ more money. So they bought up more land than they could farm, then went an' started hirin’ ponies to work the spare land.
Now, that ain’t such a terrible thing just by itself, but the whole situation kinda ended up like when you got a snowball rollin’ down a hill. Them big farmers get more land, which gets ‘em more money, which they use to buy up even more land, an' ... well, y’get the idea. Pretty soon, ain’t nopony except a couple folks owns any land, an' them’s livin’ up in fancy mansions puttin’ on airs while the rest of us are still in the dirt, doin’ a real earth pony’s work.
Pretty soon, things got to the point where them magnates—that’s what them rich ponyfolk took to callin’ themselves—well they pretty much controlled anythin’ an' everythin’ When a small group of ponies ends up havin’ all the land an’ all the money, it ain’t gonna be long before they’re pretty much runnin’ the whole thing. Sure, we got us a nice democracy here instead of things bein’ run by a buncha highfalutin’ nobles or some army types, but all that votin’ don’t count for much when all we got’s the choice of votin’ for one rich pony or another. Sure, they might differ on a couple a things, but they all agreed that it oughta be a government made up of magnates an' runnin’ things for the magnates.
Reckon that’s about where Ah come into the picture.
‘Twas a hot summer, ‘bout like most. The sorta day that makes me glad Ah had the good fortune to be born into the Apple Family. Y’see, the nice thing about runnin’ an apple orchard is you get to spend a lotta time workin’ in the shade. Poor Danver, workin’ the next plot over tendin’ to his carrots, well he didn’t have nothin’ but the hat on his head ‘tween him an’ Celestia’s sun.
After a couple hours of watching him bust his back an’ sweat so bad he was readier to keel over than a drought-worn tree, Ah decided to have a little mercy on ‘im. He’s a good ol’ boy, an’ it was just the neighborly thing to do. “Hey, Danver! C’mon over here an’ set down a spell!” Ah thought it over for a moment, an’ added. “Got me a bit of cider Ah mighta forgotten to mention to the overseer, if’n you want somethin’ to drink.”
Danver’s ears perked right up when Ah mentioned the cider. Ain’t nopony can say no to a good ol’ mug of cider after a hard day’s work. Sure enough, Danver ambled on over, an’ by the time Ah done run to the house an’ back to get a couple wooden mugs of the stuff, he’d gone an’ gotten real cozy.
Soon’s Ah was in hoof’s reach, he took that mug of cider an’ done swigged half of it down so fast it probably didn’t do more’n brush his tongue. Farmin’s thirsty work. “Thank ya kindly, Tree,” Danver done said. “Ah surely do wish Ah could set down for a spell, but Ah can’t spare more’n a couple minutes ‘fore Ah gotta get back out there.”
“Bumper Crop ridin’ ya hard?”
“Ayuh, he most surely is.” Danver grumbled an’ took him another swig of that cider. “Says Ah ain’t brung in enough last two harvest, an’ if’n Ah don’t do better this time ‘round mah family’s off the farm.”
“Ain’t right.” Ah bucked one of my trees, just on account of it all. “Ain’t proper that some fancy city stallion up in Manehatten can take ya offa yer land, just cause yer goin’ through a couple dry years.”
“That’s the rub though, ain’t it?” Danver rolled his shoulders in a helpless shrug. “It ain’t mah land, it’s his. Ah just work it.”
“Still ain’t proper,” Ah growled. “Y’got a wife an’ kids t’feed, an’ yer stuck workin’ a dried up piece of land ain’t no good for nothin’, an’ then ya gotta give half yer harvest to some magnate ain’t never done an honest day’s work in ‘is life, an’ then pay taxes on what’s left after. It ain’t right. An’ then ya hear tell ‘bout some of the other stuff they get up to.” Ah started feelin’ right ornery as a couple of the stories Ah done heard sprang to mind. “Didja hear ‘bout what happened over near Trottingham way? Ah done heard from mah cousin Adamac who heard from his sister-in-law Brown Barley, who done heard from one of her friends that the magnate up there’s a real piece of work. Makes folks leave their daughters an’ wives up at his mansion fer a week if’n they don’t make their quotas.”
“Ah dunno if’n there’s anythin’ to it.” Danver drank the last of mah cider. “Ain’t y’ever noticed that them kindsa stories always come from somepony who done heard it from somepony else who heard it from another somepony who lives halfway ‘cross Equestria?”
If’n Ah was ornery before, now Ah was downright riled. “You callin’ mah kin a liar?”
“Now hold yer horses, Ah ain’t sayin’ nothin’ like that.” Danver put up his hooves like he was tryin’ to calm down a Timberwolf or somethin’. “Ah’m just sayin’, there’s a lotta talk goes around, an’ Ah ain’t sure there’s anythin’ to all of it. If we’re hearin’ ‘bout it all the way out here, d’you really think it ain’t been nowhere else? Tell me a magnate’s puttin’ the squeeze on his sharecroppers, an’ Ah’d believe it. That kinda thing ... nah. S’just too much. Ain’t no way Chanc’ler Celestia’d let ponies get away with somethin’ like that.”
“You reckon she knows?” Ah took a drink of my own cider to get some of the dust out of mah throat. “She ain’t left Canterlot since mah grandpappy was younger’n me.”
Danver thought it over for a spell, then slowly nodded. “Reckon you ain’t wrong. Ah ain’t sayin’ it’s all as bad as ya think, but it surely could be better. Don’t see as there’s any point in flappin’ our jaws ‘bout it, though. End of the day, that’s just the way things are, an' ain’t nothin’ that you an’ me can do that’s gonna change it.” He stood up an' stretched, his joints lettin’ out a buncha pops. “Ain’t nothin’ we can do but keep on workin’ an’ hope we can provide for our own kin.”
“An’ hope yer magnate don’t steal the food outta their mouths,” Ah shot right back.
“If’n it gets under yer tail that much, y’could always just move out to the frontier,” Danver tossed out. “Ain’t no magnates out there.”
“Eeyup, reckon Ah could.” Ah snorted. “If’n Ah cared to be eaten by one of them manticores or dragons or whatever monsters they got livin’ out there. An’ soon’s the place get to the point where folk can live like real ponies, you know them magnates is gonna swoop right in an’ buy everythin’ up.” Ah just shook mah head at the whole idea of it. “No sir, Ah ain’t bustin’ mah back turning a buncha dirt an’ rocks into a proper farm, only fer some big city pony to buy it all up.”
“Then just pony up an’ deal.” Danver shrugged. “Ain’t nobody got time to spend on gettin’ mad over what can’t be changed.”
“Why can’t it be changed?” Ah askt. “Somepony oughta do somethin’ ‘bout it.”
Danver just went an' snorted at me. “Shoot, you sound like yer aimin’ to up an’ run fer office.”
An’ that’s when it hit me like the bolt of lightning that went an' split that tree over on Farmer Joe’s field. “Well shucks, Danver. That ain’t a half-bad idea.”
“You pullin’ mah leg?” Danver glared suspiciously at me. When Ah didn’t go an’ say Ah was just funnin’ him, he went an’ got downright antsy. “Now don’t go talkin’ crazy like that, Tree. If’n it get ‘round yer figurin’ on buckin’ the system, it’s gonna bring all kindsa trouble down on us. An’ y’aint gonna win, anyways. How’re you even gonna run for office an’ put food on the table for yer family at the same time? B’sides, y’aint gonna be takin’ on all the resources them magnates got an’ winning.”
Ah had mah mouth halfway open t’say somethin’ when Ah figured out that Ah didn’t have nothin’ t’say to that. Danver had a damn good point: ain’t no way Ah could win, ‘specially not if Ah needed to put in time on the farm to keep mah kin fed. It just weren’t practical.
“Hay,” Danver grumbled, waving a hoof. “If’n yer gonna go an’ do somethin’ like this, y’might as well go an’ challenge Chanc’ler Celestia herself. Ain’t nopony runnin’ ‘gainst her yet.”
“Dadgum, Danver, you really are sharper than a sickle sometimes!” Ah grinned an' clapped him on the back. “That’s exactly what Ah’m gonna do! That way ain’t no magnates gonna get in mah way, an’ Ah can get lot more ponies to up an’ listen to me if’n Ah’m goin’ all over Equestria! Ain’t there some kinda ... y’know, a campaign fund or somethin’? Ah know Ah done hear two elections back one of them magnates ran just t’get a tax break.”
“You serious?” Danver looked at me like Ah’d just sprouted a horn from my head an' started whining about there being mud on my hooves. “Like, fer real serious?”
“Ah surely am,” Ah told him.
“Well, shoot.” He slapped a hoof on his haunches. “Ah tell you what, if’n you actually manage to go an’ do somethin’ crazy like that, Ah’ll be yer campaign manager. But Ah’ll tell ya right now, if’n you manage to pull that off, you can shave mah tail an’ start callin’ me a mule.”
Nine months (and a good chunk of the novel) later...
“So how ya feelin’ today, mule?” Ah gave mah campaign manager a big ol’ slap on the back.
“Aw, shut yer mouth,” Danver grumbled. “Ah still don’t even know how Ah got roped into this.”
Ah tapped a hoof on mah chin. “Well, as Ah recall it all started with you an’ me out in the field—”
Danver interrupted ‘fore Ah got any further. “Ah know, Ah know. Still can’t rightly believe it, though.” The Carrot smacked a hoof against the side of the wagon pullin’ us along. “Ah mean look at us. Less’n a year ago all we had on our minds was how to survive the next harvest, an' now our families got food in their bellies an' we’re ridin’ on inta Manehatten itself so you can give a big ol’ speech to all the swells livin’ in the big city.”
“Sure is somethin’, ain’t it?” It was kinda startlin’ how easy it’d all been. Don’t get me wrong, there was a lotta trouble early on. Took a lotta just t’get folks to up an listen’ t’me for five minutes. Most farm folk figure it don’t matter none what goes on in the rest of Equestria, as long as their little patch of land is taken care of. The local magnate’s gonna be what matters t’them, not a buncha ponies dressed up in fancy suits an' ties up Manehatten way. Most ponies just figured Ah was just crazy or blowin’ a bunch of smoke when Ah started talkin’ ‘bout runnin’ fer Chanc’ler.
Guess that did kinda work out, though. Don’t reckon the magnates never woulda let me run if’n they cottoned to what Ah was really aimin’ to do. They just all figured Ah was off on some damnfool adventure, an’ once Ah done got beat by Chanc’ler Celestia Ah’d come on home with mah tail b’tween mah legs an’ get back to farmin’.
Probably why they actually let me get the campaign money that’s s’posta go to anypony’s runnin’ for office. There’s s’posta be election funds, so the rich don’t have no unfair advantage when elections start up. Funny thing, but anytime a farmer who runs for office without stoppin’ by the local magnate’s first, hat in his hooves while kindly asks permission to exercise his democratic rights, it just don’t work out. If he don’t get the magnate’s say so, it turns out there ain’t no bits left for ‘em. ‘Budget cuts,’ they call it. A big load of horseapples, Ah says.
But ain’t nopony worried about me yet. Ain’t none of the fancy types in big houses gettin’ waited on hoof an' mouth by servants ever bothered to stop on by when Ah’m talkin’ to ponies down in the mud an' dirt where real work gets done. They ain’t heard what Ah gots to say. They don’t get that it ain’t about Celestia at all. That’s just a way to get my message out, an' enough bits that Ah can actually spend some time talkin’ instead of bein’ tied to a plow all day to put food on the table.
The real target’s them. Ah aim to get folks thinkin’ it’s past time we pulled them fatcats outta their fancy houses an' made them share the wealth a bit with all the proper farmfolk doin’ the real work. The land rightly belongs to them that works it, not a buncha highfalutin’ fancy-pants ‘gentleponies’ ain’t never gotten dirt on their hooves since the day they was born.
There was just one little ol’ problem. Settin’ down with a couple dozen farmers in a village square an’ just havin’ a little straight talk was one thing, but now Ah had a whole ‘nother kettle of corn: Ah was headin’ into the big city to give a bona-fide speech .
Now, call me silly or a coward if’n y’want, but the idea of standin’ up in front of a whole crowd of ponyfolk an’ flappin’ mah jaws scared me worse than bucket of rattlers. It was a durn fool thing, but Ah think Ah was less scared that one time Ah ran into a wild timberwolf. Hay, all Ah had to worry then was dyin’. Not all them ponies sittin’ there, lookin’ at me. Judgin’.
“Aw, relax already.” Danver reached on over an' clapped me on the back. “It can’t be half as bad yer afraid of.”
Ah done forgot mah speech.
There Ah was, standin’ on a stage in front of all of Manehatten, an' Ah didn’t have nothin’ to say.
Well, truth be told it weren’t even fraction of Manehatten had as far as ponyfolk went. But in a city the size of Manehatten, if one pony outta a hundred decides to drop on by to have a listen just outta curiosity to hear what this crazy farmer runnin’ ‘gainst Celestia herself has to say for himself, yer still gonna end up with a pretty big crowd.
An’ right now, every single one of them must think Ah was a goldurned idjit.
Ah’d had a speech all nice an’ put together in mah head, but now it weren’t nowhere to be found. Maybe next time Ah oughta see about writin’ it down on some paper. T’be honest, mah letters ain’t all that great, but even a speech that takes a minute or two to puzzle out was better’n none at all.
Danver poked me in the ribs with one of his big clodhopper hooves. “Tree, you been standin’ up there with a simple look on yer face for near a minute now. G’wan an’ start talkin’ already!”
Well, applebuckin’.
Think it woulda been real easy to just call it quits right there. Hang up mah hat an’ head on back to the farm an’ grow another crop of apples, then give half of ‘em to Bumper Crop ‘cause Ah was workin’ land the law said was his.
Think Ah mighta done that if’n Ah weren’t born an Apple. See, if’n there’s one thing all us Apple ponies have in common, it’s that ain’t a one of us ever learned how to quit. Lotta ponies just give up when they know they’re beat, but us Apples? We git mad. Ain’t nothing gets an Apple riled quite like the idea that we was fixin’ to lose somethin’.
So, hay—maybe Ah was goin’ down, but Ah damn sure aimed to go down swingin’.
Ah cleared mah throat, an’ got down to it. “T’tell y’all the truth, Ah had mahself a real pretty speech all written up in mah head an' ready for y’all, but soon’s Ah stepped up here an’ got one look at all of ya, the whole durn thing just flew right outta mah head. So, reckon Ah’m gonna hafta make it up as Ah go along an’ hope that don’t make too much a mess of things. Hay, that dang speech probably weren’t no good anyway. Ah ain’t no pretty speaker, Ah’m a farmer. Don’t reckon Ah know much beyond how to take care of an apple tree or pull a plow.
“But Ah’ll tell ya one thing Ah do know: the way things are now ain’t right. Ah ain’t sayin it’s some kinda horrible mess can’t never be fixed, but it ain’t right. Now, Ah hope y’all don’t mind me askin’ a question, but how many of y’all are farmers?” More hooves’ than Ah expected went up. Guess it shoulda figured, though; plenty of simple farmfolk got business in the big city. “An’ outta those of you who ain’t farmers, how many got kin in farmin’?” Even more hooves reached for the sky.
Well, looks like Ah ain’t quite as lost as Ah was afraid of. “Shoot, now this whole thing just feels downright neighborly. Just got one question for you: how many of you farmfolk, or your kin, actually own the land they work?” Durn near all the hooves went down. “Reckon most of y’all end up handin’ out half of every harvest to some magnate on account of him ownin’ the land, don’tcha?” That drew a lot of grumbles an' nods outta everypony. “Even if ya luck out an’ get one of those good magnates who looks after the folk on his land, he’s still takin’ a chunk outta every harvest to pay fer all that lookin’ after, ain’t he? Same way as a real farmer takes care of his prize pig.” That got folks to talkin’ a bit more. “An’ even if yer one of those lucky fellas what owns his own land to work, Ah reckon you gotta deal with them magnates squeezin’ hard as they can to try an’ make it so’s you got no choice but to sell out to them, don’tcha?”
Well, the good news was that Ah had folks listenin’ now. Thing is, even with all the farmers in the crowd, there was still a lotta city folk too. T’be honest, Ah don’t rightly know much about city livin’. Did know a couple things though, just from the talk a pony hears from kin an’ around the village. Still, that was enough to spitball it. “An’ Ah reckon things ain’t no different for most of you folks what’s got roots right here in Manehatten. Sure, you might have banks an' bosses instead of magnates, but at the end of the day it’s the same ol’ story, ain’t it? Y’got the rich folks up top, an’ us on the bottom.
“Now Ah don’t know how all that sounds t’you, but t’me, that don’t seem very fair. Ah reckon it’s time we got a fairer deal. What do ya’ll think?”
From the looks of the crowd, Ah think Ah weren’t doin’ half bad gettin’ some of them to listen. Problem is, just ‘cause they was listenin’ didn’t mean everypony liked what they was hearin’. One fella decided to have himself a couple words about that. “That all sounds real nice, Mister Apple Tree, but what’s any of it got to do with you runnin’ ‘gainst Celestia?”
It was a darn good question, an’ one Ah didn’t have much of an answer to. Thinkin’ about Chanc’ler Celestia got me to ponderin’ on it, an’ that’s when the answer hit me like a bolt outta the blue. “Now folks, if’n Ah was to ask y’all to describe what it is a magnate is or what those kinda folk does, would y’all say it’s a pretty fair description to say that magnate’s somepony who spends all their time in a fancy house, livin’ fancy ways, an’ not gettin’ their hooves dirty with an honest day’s work?”
Weren’t nopony there could argue with that. The next part was what really got folks thinkin’, though. “Now, the way Ah see it, we got two sorts of ponyfolk. Ponies who spend sixteen hours a day bustin’ their backs just t’feed their families, an’ folks livin’ off all that hard work we do. So tell me this: when’s the last time you saw Chanc’ler Celestia pullin’ a plow, or spendin’ all day busting her hump down at the docks? Last Ah heard, she spends most of her time in a fancy palace. Sorta like them magnates do, except bigger. So, if’n there’s two types of ponyfolk out there, which kind d’you figure she is? Dunno ‘bout you, but Ah figure it’s past time we had somepony lookin’ out for the little pony.”
From there, Ah had to deal with answerin’ a whole bushel of questions. Don’t rightly know how many of the folks who listened to what Ah had say actually thought Ah had the right idea, but some of ‘em did. Hay, a couple even found me after an’ told me they were reckoning on actually votin’ for me over Chanc’ler Celestia. Didn’t plan things that way, but it was downright flatterin’.
What really mattered, though, was that once Ah was done Ah had a whole lotta ponies thinkin’ about things they used to take for granted. Reckon the first step to making change is getting ponies to realize that they can change things. Goin’ by that, Ah call this a pretty darn good speech.
Not even returning to Cloudsdale could lift my spirits after this latest disaster. I could only imagine how my fellow Ephors would react to this turn of events. Already they feared the prospect of Sunbeam and Celestia working together to undermine the Ephorate’s authority, and now we faced a very real encroachment. I did not doubt that Sunbeam would use her newly granted authority to expand her own power at the expense of the Ephorate.
It was now abundantly clear that I would have to act quickly to curb the Vizier’s ambition before it could grow any further. To that end, I pulled my daughter aside shortly after our return. “Gale, I have a task for thee.”
“I presume it has something to do with how Sunbeam Sparkle vexes thee?” Even now, when she attempted to seem as stoic and formal as one would expect for a proper soldier of Pegasopolis, she could not entirely dispel the air of faint amusement from her voice or body language.
“It does,” I confirmed. Of their own accord, my eyes drifted in the direction of Canterlot. “She has begun to cease being a mere annoyance and is becoming a real threat to Pegasopolis and its interests. I would have thee put thy talents to work unravelling what thou might about her. I need some fact, some hidden knowledge that will provide me with a means to counteract and contain her. Canst thou uncover such a thing?”
“Everypony has their dark secrets,” Gale declared with a knowing nod. “Especially a pony like her.” I could hardly argue with that particular assessment. From what I had seen of her thus far, Sunbeam Sparkle was both ruthless and unscrupulous. It was entirely possible that the skeletons in her closet were rather literal in nature.
“And I have faith in thy ability to reveal her secrets.” Gale beamed at my praise. “If possible, uncover something that might persuade the Commander to dismiss Sparkle from her service. Failing that, something to curtail her influence will suffice.”
“If such knowledge exists, then it will soon be in my hooves.” A second after that confident declaration, a troubled frown on Gale’s face. “Though it may perhaps prove more difficult to acquire than I should prefer. I am still developing contacts within Canterlot itself, and I imagine she hides her secrets quite well.” A self-assured smile returned to her face, and she held up a hoof to forestall any further comment on my part. “I will succeed, mother. I simply wish to forewarn thee that it might take more time than usual for my efforts to bear fruit.”
“It will take as long as it takes,” I reluctantly conceded. “But do bear in mind that the fate of Pegasopolis might well depend upon the speed of thy investigation. If Sunbeam Sparkle is allowed to run roughshod across all Cloudsdale, the consequences could be dire.”
“I am well aware of all that is at stake, mother.” There was a slight hint of testiness to my daughter’s voice—’twould seem she took offense at the implication that she was unaware of her task’s importance. “Am I to depart immediately?”
“It would be best if thou didst so.” Those words seemed colder than I had intended them to be. I sounded like a commander sending a soldier to battle, not a mother bidding her daughter farewell. I corrected that immediately. “I will await thy return, Gale. Cloudsdale will be a much colder, lonelier place without thee.”
Gale favored me with a smile. “Then I shall return to thy side as swiftly as possible, mother.” Gale turned about and was moments from taking to the air when she paused, turning back to face me once more. “Mother, dost thou truly believe that Sunbeam’s claims are entirely false?”
“Of course I do,” I answered without a moment’s hesitation. “What happened with Hammer Striker and Swiftwing was nothing more than a horrid aberration, a throwback to viler, less civilized times.” To my disquiet, that answer only seemed to deepen my daughter’s worried frown rather than dispelling it entirely. “What troubles thee, Gale?”
My daughter fluttered her wings nervously, and could not bring herself to meet my eyes. After several seconds of silence, she spoke in a much more subdued tone than I was used to hearing from her. “When I was doing my tour with the Long Patrol, there was an incident.” (1)
1: Shortly after being adopted by Shadow, Gale served for a few years with the Patrol. This was a fairly common practice for ponies her age, especially the children of clan leaders, as a means of proving their worthiness as heirs and a general rite of passage.
Gale took a few seconds to gather herself before continuing. “There was one stallion, Red Comet. A rather poor soldier, if one were to look at the matter fairly, and he was clanless so I cannot fathom why he felt that the Patrol was a proper place for him. And yet, he continued to serve.
“Then there was a night when we were camped out in the field, with him on watch duty.” Gale shuffled her wings and grimaced at nothing in particular. “That night a roc hit our camp. (2) One minute we were all sleeping peacefully, and the next Brilliant Blade is being carried off screaming in that bird’s talons. We mounted a rescue effort, but his wounds proved too grievous.”
2: A monster which resembles an eagle, except about twenty times larger.
Gale sighed and gave sharp shake of her head. “In any case, there was a great deal of curiosity as to how a Roc was able to pass our perimeter undetected. Nothing was ever known for certain, but many suspected that Red Comet had fallen asleep on guard duty. And then a few weeks later he was part of a squad going out on a border sweep. A few days later the squad came back, with Comet’s wings so mangled that he would never fly again. Officially, he had an encounter with a manticore, and at the time I saw no reason to question that. Now...” Gale said nothing more, but the answer was plain enough.
“Thou thinkest he was Clipped,” I finished.
“The possibility is hard to deny,” she confirmed. A second later she gave an annoyed wave of her hoof. “I do not know if he was Clipped or not, and if his dereliction of duty cost the life of another soldier then I cannot even say it was unjust. However, what troubles me is that nopony thought to ask if he was Clipped, not even I.” Gale shuffled her wings, refusing to meet my eye. “I worry that mayhap the Archmagus was not entirely wrong in her theory that Pegasopolis has chosen to deny that a problem exists rather than taking measure to correct it.”
I let out a snort at that. To think that my own daughter might say such a thing about Sunbeam Sparkle... “Gale.” I met her eyes and spoke with absolute conviction. “There are no Clippings occurring within Pegasopolis. As an Ephor, I would know if such a thing occurred, and the perpetrators would be brought to swift and absolute justice.”
Gale grimaced, and in truth I could not blame her for it. Even as the words left my mouth, they rang hollow to me. It was a politician’s answer, and one that ignored the unpleasant realities of life. If not even the Commander herself could know everything that passed within Pegasopolis, how could we? I had not known of the incident in Gale’s unit until she informed me of it. Did every soldier have such tales?
From the troubled frown Gale wore, my thoughts must have been plain on my face. I took measures to address her concerns. “Even if all that Sunbeam Sparkle claims is true, she is not the pony who should be investigating this matter. Any truth she uncovers will be bent and twisted to serve her own purposes.”
“That is almost certainly so,” Gale agreed. “But if she uncovered a problem within Pegasopolis that we were blind to ... that does not speak well of us, either.” With that she took wing, presumably making for Canterlot. I watched her departure until she was naught but a tiny green speck upon the horizon.
With the matter of Sunbeam Sparkle attended to for the moment, ‘twas time for me to see to the business of the Ephorate. For all the prestige of our position, there was no formal building set aside solely for meetings of the Ephorate. ‘Twould be wasteful to devote so many resources to providing a place for five ponies to meet and discuss, especially when all of us had fine clanholds at our disposal which could easily accommodate such a gathering. Even when there were clanless Ephors, their much humbler residences could host four extra ponies for a few hours.
Upon my return to my own clanhold, I dispatched messengers to my fellow Ephors, asking that they make their way to me at once. The Kicker clanhold is the finest in all of Cloudsdale, though ‘tis quite likely that I am biased in my assessment. While the cloudwork was finely made, perhaps the one thing that made my clan’s residence truly unique was the fact that the clouds around our residence bore a distinct crimson tinge. ‘Twas a needless indulgence to color our clouds, but it was also a clan tradition whose origins were lost in time. In any case, maintaining the decorative effect was the responsibility of those too young, old, or wounded to serve Pegasopolis, so the embellishment did not deprive anypony of resources that might be better-used.
Regardless, the effect was most pleasing to the eye.
Steel Striker was first to arrive. He seemed changed by all that had passed within his house—for the first time in his life, he truly looked old. At the time, I suspected that he might well be on the verge of seeking out the early retirement his war-wounds entitled him to. Normally I would have made some effort to engage him in conversation, but I confess I could think of little I might say to him whilst the recent tragedy in his household continued to hang so heavily over his head.
Thankfully, we were saved from the oppressive silence hanging over the room by the arrival of Rightly and Swift Blade. Though it seems uncharitable to say it, Swift Blade looks nothing like how most ponies would envision a member of the Ephorate. He was not a large, strapping veteran like Steel, or a young and charismatic commander like Rightly. Rather, Swift Blade was short of stature and slight of build, and had none of the raw presence of his fellow Ephors. All too often, he was prone to fading into the background, all but forgotten alongside his more dynamic companions. Even his very appearance, with his plain blue coat and purple mane, seemed to make him fade into the background like an uninteresting piece of scenery.
However, not all aspects of the military require personal combat prowess or a forceful personality. Swift Blade’s talents lay in the realm of organization, and though his work might be inglorious, it was no less necessary. If not for Swift’s efforts, the Pegasopolan military would likely devolve from a well-oiled fighting machine into a chaotic mess within weeks. An army without organization is a little more than a large mob of heavily armed ponies, and soldiers without supplies cannot fight. As the old saying goes, an army fights on its stomach.
Though his work offered neither public honors nor great renown, Swift was nonetheless a vital part of the Pegasopolan military. Perhaps that made him all the more laudable. History would not remember this unremarkable-looking stallion, yet I and every other commander would know that without his efforts we would not have our great victories.
“Bright Charger will not be joining us,” Rightly announced, effectively bringing our meeting to order. “In fact, I intended to summon a meeting shortly to discuss her absence when I received thy message, Shadow. Didst thou speak with the Commander regarding our troubles with the griffons?”
“I did.” I mentally girded myself to deliver the unfortunate news. “The Commander orders caution and restraint in the matter of the griffons. There is, however, a far graver matter which emerged during my meeting with her. The Archmagus of Canterlot and Grand Vizier of Unicornia, Sunbeam Sparkle, has somehow persuaded Commander Celestia that the unfortunate incident which occurred last week is a symptom of a larger underlying problem. Thus, the Commander has ordered Archmagus Sparkle to work alongside me to investigate the matter.”
My fellow Ephors took the news as badly as I expected. Steel scowled and thumped a hoof on a nearby cloud, while Rightly let out an indignant snort. Swift’s reaction was far more restrained, but the frown on his face made his feelings clear enough. Steel answered first, his voice a tight, angry growl. “I am to be investigated by this unicorn then? To submit myself and my clan to her judgement? Such a thing is unprecedented.”
“More than merely unprecedented,” Rightly grumbled. “There can only be one reason Commander Celestia would appoint a unicorn to investigate the affairs of Pegasopolis. It is as I feared before—the Commander no longer has faith in the Ephorate to fulfill her wishes or uphold her laws.”
Much as I wanted to deny that conclusion, I could not say with confidence that was entirely wrong. “I am sure that was not her intention, Rightly. I am to work alongside the Archmagus in this matter, so there is no reason to believe that the Ephorate will be entirely removed from the process.”
“Then why involve a unicorn in the matter at all?” Swift pointed out. “If the Commander has faith in the Ephorate, then there is no reason for this Sunbeam Sparkle to ever set hoof in Cloudsdale. No doubt she worded it more diplomatically than that, but the simple fact remains that she has dispatched an outsider to investigate a purely Pegasopolan matter.”
I wanted to offer something to defend the Commander’s decision, but the words escaped me. In truth, I feared that they had the right of it. Sunbeam Sparkle claimed that we could not police ourselves, and in response Commander Celestia gave her the authority to act upon the internal affairs of Pegasopolis. The only explanation I could see was that on some level she doubted our ability to see to such matters without a minder. “The matter will be resolved soon enough,” I offered weakly. “The investigation will show that Pegasopolis has naught to hide, and we shall end the matter with our honor intact.”
Even I was not comforted by those words, so how could I expect my fellow Ephors to be reassured by such an explanation? “What of Bright Charger? Thou didst say that there was some matter concerning her, Rightly.” The question was abrupt, but I did not wish to linger upon these uncomfortable thoughts any longer.
The other Ephors exchanged a look, no doubt divining the reason for my abrupt change of subject, and then Rightly answered me. “Bright Charger sent word back that the situation on the border has continued to develop in a worrying direction. She asks that we make our way there, so that we might view the ongoing events for ourselves before passing any further judgement on the matter.”
That was troubling. While Charger herself was often prone to acting precipitously, she would not lightly ask her fellow Ephors to make such a journey, and the fact that she asked for all of us to make our way to the front was troubling. If the whole of the Ephorate needed to bear witness to the events there, then it would have to be something far worse than the usual border difficulties. “Are we to answer her call then? I had thought to remain here, and make preparations for this upcoming inspection, but if the matter on the border is more pressing...”
“With respect, Ephor Kicker,” Swift Blade gently cut in. “You are a soldier, not a gendarme. Arranging the details of an investigation is a poor use of your talents. It might be better for all involved if I saw to such administrative chores whilst you accompanied Rightly and Steel in the field.”
I could hardly argue the logic of that even if I wished to do so. I did not—as Swift said, such administrative matters were not something I had any particular talent for or enjoyment of. That is not to say that I neglected those responsibilities when I faced them, or performed poorly at the task when it was needed, merely that much like with politics, I viewed them as necessary duties which I performed adequately. If Swift could do the job better than I, and free me for better uses of my time in the process, then it was only sensible to make such an arrangement.
“It is agreed. Thank you, Swift Blade.” I dipped my head to him for a long moment, then turned back to Rightly. “How serious dost thou believe the situation to be? Should we put our clans on alert, or even begin mustering them for deployment?”
“Bright Charger did not,” Steel answered simply.
That answered the matter simply enough. If Charger did not feel the need to call for reinforcements from her own clan, then we would not need take such measures yet either. “We are entering what is likely to be an active combat zone, though. ‘Twould not be prudent for three Ephors of Pegasopolis to fly about unescorted.”
“An escort would be sensible,” Rightly agreed. A contemplative frown crossed his face. “What thinkest thou? A squad from each of our clans?”
“I would prefer a platoon each, though not particularly heavy ones.” I glowered in the general direction of our eastern border. “Better to bring too many escorts than too few, especially if the situation is continuing to escalate. Three squads is substantial, but a particularly large and bold group of reivers might be willing to risk an attack, especially if they somehow discern our identities. A captured Ephor would fetch a rich ransom—while a slain one would bring a great deal of renown to the reiver responsible. Three platoons is a force no mere bandit would dare attack, no matter how rich the rewards might be.”
Steel gave a sharp nod at my words, and after a moment of consideration Rightly signalled his agreement as well. “It is settled then. Prepare your forces, and we shall depart as soon as all is in readiness.”
I imagine our force made for quite the impressive sight as we left Pegasopolis. While this was a hardly a major deployment, I and my fellow Ephors had made a point of picking our finest soldiers for the mission. The bright red armor of Kickers mixed in with the drab olive green of the Doos and the plain, unadorned iron of the Strikers to make our force look far deadlier and more diverse than an ordinary company.
It should come as no surprise that we encountered no difficulties during our journey to the coast (3).
3: Despite Shadow’s references to the border, there was no formally defined border between Griffonia and Equestria beyond the coastline itself. This no doubt contributed to the difficulties of protecting coastal villages from reiver raids. During her term as Lady Protector of Equestria, Shadow took measure to address the problem by formally defining Equestria’s territorial waters and airspace, allowing patrols to intercept threats well before they could actually threaten the Equestrian mainland.
Charger had established her headquarters at the northeastern tip of Horseshoe Bay, providing her with a reasonably central location to oversee the defense of our coastline. While her position was somewhat southerly, not even the reivers would be so bold as to make a move against Manehattan, especially not while the Commander herself was in residence there.
To my vague surprise, Charger had chosen to camp groundside. Such was rather unusual, though I could see the practical reasons for it easily enough once I gave the matter further thought. A cloudside camp offered no tactical advantage against griffon reivers, and would naturally make any coordination with the local militias problematic. (4)
4: Unlike the pegasi and unicorns, the earth ponies of this time had no formal standing army. Instead, every able-bodied earth pony was expected to serve in the local militia when their communities were threatened.
As soon as we came within sight of the camp, ponies began scrambling about to prepare for our arrival. By the time we landed, Bright Charger was waiting to greet us, accompanied by a small honor guard of her own soldiers clad in her clan’s brightly polished armor. Bright Charger herself was a striking mare, who somehow managed to maintain an air of youthful exuberance despite being several years my senior. Mayhap her orange coat and short two-toned light blue mane contributed to her overall appearance of youthfulness. The fact that she was smiling at the moment likely contributed as well. “Rightly, Steel, Shadow, it is good to see you.”
“Bright.” Rightly stepped forward and exchanged a brief salute, then rested his hoof on her shoulder. “It is good to see thee as well.” Seeing the object of their affections act so familiarly with another mare might have rankled many ponies, but Rightly’s wife had been Bright’s younger sister. I would not begrudge him a brief show of affection to his sister-in-law, especially not when both still faced the mutual pain of Brave’s death.
Bright returned the gesture, and after several seconds, took a deep breath, then turned to Steel Striker. “I am sorry for your loss as well, Steel. ‘Twas cruel for you to lose two children in the course of a single day, especially in such a terrible manner.”
“Aye,” Steel agreed simply. I could not help but wonder if for once his brevity was less a product of his taciturn nature and more an effort to maintain his composure. For a moment I considered offering some small gesture of support, but I do not think he would have appreciated such a thing. For a pony like Steel Striker, that sort of gesture would only serve to remind him of his pain, and call the attention of others to it.
Finally, she turned to me, hesitating for a moment on what greeting to offer. We had no particular bond, and I would not be surprised if she had somewhat mixed feelings about my interest in her brother-in-law. I had taken pains to keep my actions strictly appropriate, but it was no secret to those who knew us that there was a degree of mutual attraction. I would not blame her for resenting me, to some degree, for attempting to replace her dead sister in Rightly’s heart.
At length, she finally spoke to me. “You spoke with the Commander about taking action against the reivers, correct? What did she say?”
A reasonable question, but one I did not look forward to answering. “The Commander will not approve of any escalation of the conflict beyond its current level.”
Bright Charger let out an incredulous snort. “Escalation. Griffons attack our villages, and she speaks of not escalating the conflict.”
“We do have a treaty with the high king of Griffonia,” I reminded her. “A treaty the Commander wishes to preserve, even if it means tolerating a few bandits.”
“Ah yes, that is the way of it, isn’t it?” Charger’s voice came out as an angry growl, and she shot a baleful look in the general direction of the unicorn capital. “I think that’s the problem. Canterlot. Everypony in Canterlot looks around, and they see paradise. Their beautiful white marble city, with all the nasty little bits tucked far away where nopony can see them. It is easy for the Commander to talk about how these raids are merely ‘the usual border troubles with the Griffons’ when she lives in her perfect little city on the hill, far away from the messy, unpleasant reality of things.”
“That may be so.” Rightly looked off to the side. “I took the liberty of consulting our archives on the matter of griffon raids. In Commander Luna’s time, no reiver would dare to strike at Equestria’s shores, yet now our coastal villages live in constant fear of attack.”
“Yes, I am sure Commander Luna was an excellent leader,” I grumbled, somewhat offended at their criticism of Commander Celestia. “One simply needs to overlook the fact that she went mad and tried to plunge all Equestria into oblivion.”
While I would never say that Commander Celestia’s decisions should be above reproach, and in truth I had begun to worry about some of her choices myself, the tone of their comments seemed much darker. I was questioning the Commander’s decisions, but it sounded like they were questioning the Commander herself. It was a subtle distinction, but an important one.
Rightly slowly nodded. “Thou art correct, of course, Shadow. I merely wished to state that when our Commander took a more active role in Equestria’s defense and pursued a more assertive military policy, we did not have such problems with reivers.”
“Truly?” I would not let the Commander’s honor go undefended, not even from Rightly. “I seem to remember that the threat of the griffons has long waxed and waned. Thou might recall that Celestia and Luna won the loyalty of the earth ponies by reclaiming Manehatten from the Griffons, after nearly a century of occupation.”
“Aye, and then Commander Luna herself led an army to the shores of Griffonia, and put Westwatch to torch,” (5) Bright answered with an impatient wave of her hoof. “You will note, though, that while Celestia received an equal share of the credit, it was Commander Luna who led the armies of Equestria onto the field of battle. ‘Twas Luna herself who cut down the High King, while Celestia remained far from the fighting in Canterlot.” A hint of a smile crossed Bright’s face as she added, “The Griffons called her ‘Nightmare’ long before we did.”
5: Capital of the less-than-creatively named Archduchy of Westmarch, which covers most of Griffonia’s western shore. As the closest region to Equestria, it was the origin point for most reiver raids.
“Not all Commanders should lead from the front,” I countered simply. “One of the natural advantages of diarchy is that one ruler could remain in Equestria, whilst the other led our armies abroad. ‘Twas only natural that Commander Luna took the martial role, as befit her role as Commander of Pegasopolis.”
“And while she was Commander, no Griffon dared to come within a hundred miles of Equestria’s shores.” Rightly paused, and hint of a glower crossed his face. “But now Commander Luna is gone, and the Griffons grow bold once more. And our new Commander would have us practice caution and restraint, even as the shores of Equestria burn.”
The longer this exchange went on, the more it troubled me. One could hardly deny the effectiveness of Commander Luna’s measures when it came to containing the griffon threat, nor could any deny that with Luna’s departure the griffons had grown bolder once more. However, Luna’s exile had occurred for good reason—she had gone mad with power, and sought to overthrow her sister and plunge the land into eternal night. The idea that, despite her eventual descent into madness, she had been a far better Commander than Celestia sat poorly with me.
According to the histories I had read of the time of the two sisters, it was undeniable Luna had taken a far more active role in Pegasopolis’ affairs compared to Celestia’s hooves-off approach. Several of the great clans of Pegasopolis, such as Rightly’s own, had first risen to prominence as her close retainers. While she might have been born in Unicornia alongside her sister, when Pegasopolis faced the crisis of Discord it was Luna who took charge and rallied our forces, and her many accomplishments in that office spoke for themselves. One wonders what more she might have done, had madness not claimed her.
I gave a slightly annoyed shake of my head. “Let us cease this reminiscing about times so long past that our grandsires were suckling foals when they occurred, and return our attention to the problems of the present.” I returned my attention fully to Bright Charger. “You requested the presence of your fellow Ephors, and we have arrived. What news is there of the situation here?”
“A great deal, and little of it good.” Bright led us into her headquarters, in what looked to have been an earth pony traveler’s lodge before she commandeered it. She led us to the large table dominating the center of the room, and gave an angry wave of her hoof at a large map showing much of the Horseshoe Bay area, with a number of markers scattered across the coast. “Each of the blue markers represents a coastal community that has yet to be attacked, while the red represent those areas where attacks have already occurred. The green lines represent our current patrol routes.”
“Stretched thin,” Steel commented simply.
“Aye.” Bright passed a hoof over a collection of villages at the far end of the bay. “I have tried to persuade the local ponies to consolidate into a few larger and more defensible locations, but they are stubborn. They don’t want to abandon their homes, even in the face of griffon attacks. Most of the survivors from any raids just go right back to the ruins of their homes to begin rebuilding all over again. We’ve relocated the ones who see sense to this village...” She pointed to an icon on the northwestern edge of the bay, well placed for defense. “Baltimare. However, so long as the locals remain dispersed all across the bay, we have to defend all of it.”
“We swore an oath to protect them,” Steel affirmed. “That does not change just because they are being foolish.”
“That is the long and short of it,” Bright agreed with a weary sigh. It troubled me, to see a pony who was normally so energetic carry such a worn air about her. “There is little we can do, other than ask that they evacuate voluntarily, and help to organize local militias. Any attempt at compelling an evacuation would end poorly, especially since few of the local officials seem inclined to cooperate in such an endeavour.” She let out a snort. “They have other concerns. ‘Twould seem that the earth pony ‘elections’ are coming soon, and most of the local mayors fear that ordering an unpopular evacuation would lead to the loss of their position.”
“And no doubt they would be replaced by ponies who obtained their position with the promise of reversing any evacuation orders,” I concluded sourly. That was the problem with earth pony democracy—the leaders were so dependent upon the goodwill of the masses that in many ways they were naught but slaves to the popular will. While it was all well and good to have leaders be accountable to the ponies they ruled over, the popular course of action and the correct one were not always the same. A provincial commander or a duchess could brave the displeasure of the mob to make such choices. A mayor or a governor could not.
The four of us spent the next half-hour evaluating the situation and offering suggestions for how we might more effectively defend the coastline. While there was little we could do to stop the attacks at the moment, we could at least mitigate the damage and hopefully catch some of the reivers before they could do any harm. That was the key to dealing with reivers—we needed to cause them sufficient damage and inconvenience that they would think it more profitable to seek out softer targets. Let them strike into the Diamond Kingdom or venture into the Dragonlands, if they wished.
We were in the midst of altering patrol routes when one of Charger’s soldiers entered, escorting a winded earth pony with several fresh and hastily-treated wounds. I could guess the content of his message even before he spoke. “They struck at Hipparion.”
All within the building fell silent at the news. Bright was first to speak, no doubt having become far too accustomed to receiving such grim news over the last few weeks. “I see.” She turned to the soldier who had escorted the messenger in. “See to preparing a relief column to Hipparion. Thou knowest what will be needed.”
I misliked the way she said it so casually. Not that it seemed as if she put no importance to the matter, but rather that she spoke the order as if it had become routine to do so. An order given so many times that it no longer bore any great significance. That sat ill with me—that these raids had become such a common occurrence that sending relief convoys had become a daily ritual rather than some rare event.
Bright turned back to the messenger. “Hast thou any estimates of the casualties?”
“None resisted them,” the messenger confessed, sounding slightly ashamed of it. “There were just too many of them, and our militia—there are only a dozen families in Hipparion...”
“Thou didst not fight when there was no hope of victory,” Bright finished for him. “Do not be ashamed. Resistance would only have brought about the deaths of many good ponies.”
The earth pony nodded, hanging his head for a few seconds. No doubt he felt ill at ease confessing to a surrender whilst surrounded by Pegasopolan warriors. Popular legend often says that Pegasopolan soldiers have never surrendered to a foreign power. The truth is not quite so idealistic, but fanciful tales of bravery and heroic last stands make for far more entertaining stories than the truth.
Finally, the messenger spoke once more. “M’lady, there’s something else you need to know. While nopony was killed, after they finished looting what little we had, some of them decided to take captives. Most of the mares were taken. The fillies and colts as well.”
“They took captives?” Bright asked for confirmation. When the messenger confirmed his report once more, she nodded and a particularly grim frown appeared on her face. “I see. I thank thee, that will be all. Speak to one of the soldiers outside, and they will see to providing thee with fresh bandages for thy wounds and a hot meal.”
The messenger bobbed his head in a quick half-bow. “Thank you, m’lady.” He backed out of the room, and a few moments later I half-heard him exchanging words with one of the soldiers outside.
Bright went silent for several seconds, then slammed a hoof down on the table hard enough to leave a dent in the wood. “They take captives now. They venture near our airspace, and we fall back. They raid our villages, and the Commander orders strictly defensive action. Now they remove ponies from our shore in chains. What will the Commander’s response to this be? Inviting the High King to Canterlot for tea and crumpets?”
Bright took a deep, shuddering breath, let out a resigned sigh, and turned back to face her fellow Ephors with a determined scowl on her face. “Enough. Neigh, it is beyond enough. As the commander in the field for this operation, I am invoking the Fourth Axiom of Lyequinegus.”
I felt my eyes go wide in shock at her declaration. “You intend to violate Commander Celestia’s orders?”
“I do,” Bright Charger confirmed. “That is the purpose of the Fourth Axiom, is it not? ‘A commander in the field is not required to follow the orders of distant leaders, if said commander feels that those orders do not properly reflect the realities of the frontlines, and continuing to follow those orders would be detrimental to the safety and security of Pegasopolis.’ I think we can all agree that it applies here.”
Much as I did not wish to admit it, this newest revelation did change matters considerably, to the point that I could no longer defend the Commander’s standing orders. “I ask that you take no action at this time. Once Commander Celestia is informed of the situation, I am sure she will revise her orders.”
“No time,” Steel announced. “The longer we wait, the harder it will be to rescue the ponies they took.”
Once more, I could not argue the logic of it. I did not wish to go against Commander Celestia’s orders, but I could not justify any other course of action. Steel and Bright had the right of it—even if the Commander could be persuaded to change her standing orders, it would be too late for the ponies the griffons had taken this time. “So be it then. What do you propose?”
Bright Charger trotted over to another table and retrieved a map of Griffonia’s western coast. “I took the liberty of sending a few scouts for high-level passes, so that I might have some degree of intelligence regarding how many reivers threaten our shores.” That sort of scouting expedition stretched the Commander’s orders, but so long as the scouts did not enter griffon territory or engage in combat she was not outright breaking them. I could hardly fault Bright Charger for that—I likely would have done the same if it were my command. (6)
6: Creative interpretation of orders is a long-standing military tradition.
“Now then,” Charger pointed to three marked spots along the coast. “According to the most recent reports from my scouts, those are their primary camps and staging grounds. In all likelihood the captives are en-route to one of those places. So, the prudent course of action would be to send three forces. Ideally we can intercept the reivers before they return to Griffonia proper. Failing that, we hit the camps, find our ponies, and get them out.”
“There is no way to narrow down which of the camps they were taken to?” Rightly asked with a slight frown. “The Commander will not be pleased by our invocation of the Fourth Axiom—it would be best if we violated her orders as little as necessary in the process of saving our ponies.”
“Unless we can intercept them before they get back to their base camp, I doubt we could manage such a thing quickly enough to be practical.” I grimaced down at the map. Even if I had Gale close to hoof, it would take her hours to infiltrate a single camp and properly search for the missing ponies. If the tales of what happened to ponies in griffon captivity held any element of truth to them, it would be best to rescue them as quickly as possible. Otherwise, there might not be anypony left to save.
Rightly grimaced as the same thoughts played through his mind. “I do not wish to give Commander Celestia the impression that we have merely seized upon a convenient excuse to ignore her orders. This is a rescue mission first and foremost—we should only do as much damage to the reivers as we must in the process.”
“Foolish,” Steel grumbled. “We are already violating orders to attack Griffonia. We should take the chance to bloody their beaks while we are at it.”
Though I would have preferred not to disagree with Rightly and Celestia both, I did. “Steel has the right of it. Thinkest thou that either the griffons or Commander Celestia will be any less upset if we only kill thirty reivers instead of sixty?”
Bright nodded. “We intend to attack them either way, better that we make it an effective one than mire down in half-measures.”
Rightly grimaced, and conceded the matter with a wave of his hoof. While no formal vote had been taken, it was clear that the majority was against him in this matter. I confess that I found myself slightly eager at the prospect of striking back at the griffons. There was something oddly liberating about making the decision to go against the Commander’s orders, seizing the freedom to do as we pleased, and damning the consequences.
I turned to Bright and asked the next obvious question. “Do we have an estimate for how many reivers there are at these camps?”
Charger shrugged, waving a hoof over the map. “With reivers, you can never tell. Their numbers will depend on how many are out raiding, how many new recruits they’ve gained, how many have retired to enjoy their plunder, and so forth.” Charger glowered down at the map for a few moments longer. “I would estimate their numbers at no more than a hundred per camp, but that is only an estimate.”
I glanced to my fellow Ephors, and could see that their thoughts lay in much the same direction as mine. “We’ve a hundred and fifty pegasi between us. (7) If your command could spare a few more ponies to fill our forces out...”
7: Which would put the size of a Pegasopolan platoon at fifty ponies each. A bit large by modern standards, though the nature of warfare in Shadow’s time made the smaller, more specialized platoons and squads of the modern Guard impractical.
“Easily.” Bright returned her attention to the map, and set to her plans. “The three of you wish to take the field, I presume?”
Steel and I nodded, and a moment later Rightly did so as well. It might have been wasteful for all of us to participate in this operation, but at the same time it felt wrong to command from the rear. A battlefield commander’s place is on the frontlines, fighting alongside and shedding blood with their soldiers. There was a reason that, while Swift Blade was a valued member of the Ephorate, he was not the leader of his clan. Whatever his other valuable contributions, no clan would respect a leader who could not fight within the ranks and acquit themselves admirably.
Bright smiled at the three of us, and began laying our attack routes on the map. “Shadow, you can take the northern camp, Steel will have the south. Rightly will hit the third camp, and I will keep a force in reserve, in case any problems arise. Perhaps near Westwatch, so I can intercept any Griffonian reinforcements if they attempt to interfere.”
“It would be better if we did not fight Griffonian soldiers,” Rightly fixed his sister-in-law with a knowing look. “And I think that if I gave thee an army and put thee on Westwatch’s doorstep, I would return to find the city in flames. Too long hast thou sat back and watched these raids with thy hooves tied. ‘Twill take blood to satisfy thee—better that thou art placed where thou might obtain it without disrupting our plans. I will take the reserves.”
“Thou art most considerate.” Charger offered him a slight bow and a smile.
Rightly returned the bow, a hint of a smile on his face. “I do try, sister.” He turned to the side, and extended a wing. A moment later we mirrored the gesture, so that all four of our wings rested atop each other in the center. Rightly began the ritual. “For Pegasopolis.”
Each of us answered in turn with our clan’s words, beginning with Steel Striker. “Blood and steel.”
“We lead the charge.” Bright Charger spoke next.
“Death waits in the dark,” I solemnly added the Kicker words.
“Duty, to the last,” Rightly finished.
The flight to the shores of Griffonia took the remainder of that day and through the night, as well as most of the next at hard flying, but my soldiers matched the pace I set with no complaints. Both my own platoon and the pegasi from her clan that Bright had placed under my command knew what was at stake here—the reivers are not known for being kind to their captives.
Sadly, we were not able to intercept them before we reached Griffonia proper. With the head start they’d gained over us, that had only ever been a dim hope to begin with. I still would have preferred it, if only because a battle over the sea would have been far less diplomatically troublesome than an actual incursion into Griffonia proper. Then again, recovering the earth pony captives in such a clash would likely have proven problematic.
The reiver camp lay along the shoreline, placed near a cliff overlooking the ocean itself. The place had the look of something hastily assembled by beings with only a rudimentary knowledge of carpentry, which fit with what I knew of the reivers. The camp itself was no proper settlement as such, merely an assembly point for the reivers, and the parasites who naturally attached themselves to those with an excess of wealth and a shortage of morals or good sense. No doubt much of the plunder these reivers stole from Equestria’s shores eventually found its way into the talons of barkeeps, gamblers, and whoremongers.
I am unsure whether it was arrogance or simply a lack of discipline, but the reivers had not even thought to set a proper watch. That would make our task all the easier.
The attack would need to wait, though. While my soldiers might have crossed the Griffonian Sea without complaint, they would fight far better if I provided them with a few hours rest before we went into battle. It was a hard thing, to ask them to make camp while ponies might well be suffering in the camp below, but it would not do to bungle the rescue mission because my forces were too tired to fight effectively. Besides, there were preparations to make, and sunset was still an hour away.
Once we found a suitable cloudbank high above the enemy camp, where our own position would not be noted, I set my clan to blackening their armor—the traditional blood red of the clan was suited to many purposes, but it was not an ideal choice for night missions where a degree of stealth was required. Whilst they worked at that, I arranged a quick meeting with Breeze Kicker and Shield Charger, the lieutenants in charge of my two platoons.
“Our plan of attack will be simple and direct,” I informed them. “Once night falls, my clan will infiltrate into the town proper, sowing chaos, death, and destruction. Once they have begun their work, the Chargers will launch their attack. With any luck, the reivers will be thrown into a panic, and any semblance of discipline or order will vanish. Once they scatter to the winds, each fleeing to preserve their own lives, it should be child’s play to crush any resistance, and chase down the remaining reivers.” (8) It was a simple plan, but in my experience all the best plans are. Elaborate plans all too often run afoul of the natural chaos of the battlefield.
8: While no griffon would ever admit such a thing, p egasi are on average faster fliers.
“What are the rules of engagement, and what terms do we offer?” Shield asked.
It had been an oversight on my part not to state such—perhaps I had become too used to working with my own clan, who naturally knew my standing orders in such situations. “We neither ask for nor offer quarter. We face reivers, rapers, and pillagers—they would not honor any surrender. However, our priority is the rescue of any captured ponies; the destruction of reiver assets is a secondary objective.” I was somewhat tempted to suggest putting the fleas gathered about the reivers to the sword as well, for they had surely profited from the suffering of ponies, but mercy won out. “I’ll have no wanton destruction of non-combatants, but tolerate no resistance. The camp will be fired, once our work is done.”
I looked to them for any further inquiries, and Breeze spoke up. “How are we to return the civilians to Equestria, m’lady? Having them fly ponyback the entire way could prove troublesome.”
I waved a hoof down at the camp. “The same way the reivers brought them here, I should think. Most likely they’ve some manner of aerial conveyance to allow them to transport their plunder from Equestria in relative swiftness. Failing that, Rightly’s reserve force brought equipment to attend to the matter.”
I gave them a few moments longer, and when there were no further questions I gave a single sharp nod. “Thy orders are clear, then. The Kickers will make our move once darkness falls. I intend to show these reivers the meaning of my clan’s words.”
I put the remaining time to good use, setting an example for my soldiers by quickly blackening my armor before securing two hours of rest. I needed the sleep as sorely as the rest of the ponies under my command, though I ordered that a few sentries remain awake, lest we be foiled by some cruel happenstance. I had not come this far to have my plans undone because a single drunken reiver happened to stumble across our campsite minutes before we would strike.
My two hours of rest passed far more quickly than I would have liked. While I am far from an old mare, I have begun to reach the age where a mere two hours of sleep after a long hard march no longer seems sufficient. I buried any tiredness I might feel underneath a core of iron discipline, and set to my final preparations. Any lingering fatigue would fade quickly enough once battle was joined.
I broke my platoon up into hunter-teams of five ponies each. A common enough deployment for my clan, as a five-pony unit remained small enough to be reasonably silent while also containing sufficient force to strike against any cluster of enemy ponies. I took the liberty of claiming Sergeant Stalwart’s hunter team for myself, and putting the good sergeant in charge of the two teams held in reserve to reinforce an imperilled unit or strike at targets of opportunity.
Then we got to the bloody business.
My team landed in a dark alleyway near what appeared to be a ramshackle tavern of sorts, if the smell of cheap beer and jovially raised voices within were any indication. “Nimbus, Stratus, to the left. Iron and Boulder to the right.” The four set to fulfilling their orders quickly and efficiently, moving around the building and peering in through crude windows and gaps in the walls to provide an estimate of the enemy’s strength and search for any captive ponies within.
A minute later, they returned with their report. The four conveyed for a moment, combining intelligence, until Stratus gave the final assessment. “Two entrances, front and rear. Somewhere between fifteen and twenty griffons within. No sign of any ponies.”
I nodded, a plan already taking shape in my mind. “The rear entrance leads to some brewing and storage area for their alcohol, I presume?”
“It does,” Iron confirmed. A hint of a smile quirked at his lips as he added, “From what I saw of the brewery, we’re doing the reivers a favor by killing them before they can consume any more of that rotgut.”
“I’m sure they’ll be appropriately grateful,” I jested in response. My plan was now well and truly taking shape. “Boulder, canst thou bar the front door?”
“Aye, m’lady.” A hint of a glower crossed his face. “Though I cannot guarantee it would hold. With the state of this place, the door and walls could probably be taken down by a hard sneeze.”
“Then let’s hope none of them have a cold. Bar it.” I turned to Nimbus. “Sneak into the rear entrance, and set their alcohol store to fire. The place will go up like a tinderbox. With any luck, when they find one exit blocked by flames and the other barred, they’ll panic and begin fighting amongst each other. If not, those who breach the walls will be smoke- and fire-blinded and disoriented. Likely drunk as well. Easy targets.”
“The fire might spread to the rest of the camp, m’lady,” Nimbus observed. “Shall I secure a raincloud once I set the fires?”
I made a mental note to speak to Lieutenant Shield about Nimbus, should she survive the night. A soldier with initiative was a valuable resource. “That would be prudent. We do not wish to burn the entire camp down until we have finished our search for any ponies.” Fire was an effective weapon, but at times a dangerous one. Especially in a place like this—fire safety had clearly not been a concern for the griffons when they threw together this reiver camp.
Boulder placed a simple wedge beneath the tavern door to prevent it from opening, while Nimbus moved to the back of the building to begin her task. A minute later there was a faint whiff of smoke, and Nimbus briefly took to the sky for long enough to retrieve a suitable raincloud. Then it was just a matter of waiting for our work to bear fruit.
We did not need to wait for long. The tavern’s cheap alcohol took to flame like a candle wick, and before long not even the inebriated tavern patrons could fail to notice the smoke pouring out of the back room. The reivers within began grumbling and complaining, but their intoxication inured them to any fear for the moment. Or perhaps this was not the first fire to have erupted within the camp—with so many drunken thugs populating the camp, the odd bit of arson or carelessness would hardly be unusual.
Then one of them tried the door. When it didn’t open the griffon began pounding against it, but Boulder’s wedge held firm. Now the first notes of fear emerged from within the tavern. A fire was one thing—being trapped in a burning building with no available exit was another matter entirely.
One of the griffons tried for a window, perhaps in the hopes of managing to squeeze himself through, or failing that he would have a head start on smashing through the thin walls. It mattered little, for as soon as he stuck his head out I brought my wing blade across the reiver’s throat. The griffon stumbled back in surprise, blood spurting from his wound, and the remaining reivers erupted into panic as the awful truth began to sink in. They were trapped in a burning building, with an unknown enemy waiting outside to kill any who escaped.
Even for disciplined soldiers, this would be a difficult situation. There were few tactical options, and few leaders are cool-headed enough to strategize while trapped in the midst of a budding inferno. Reivers are far from disciplined. Before long I heard shouts from within, and the coppery tang of fresh blood sharpened on the wind. Just as I’d hoped, in their panic they’d fallen to fighting amongst themselves, throwing away any hope of coordination—and with it, survival.
The struggle ended before long, and the remaining griffons began banging on the doors and walls, though sadly none were so foolish as so stick their head out the window again. Then the begging began, as the reivers made promises of surrender and protestations of innocence that only an imbecile would believe. When that failed, they were soon offering a share of their plunder as well, and eventually the whole of it, if we would spare their lives.
None of us were moved by such offers. Despite the situation, I found myself waxing philosophical for a moment. I think that is one of the advantages of the Pegasopolan system, as opposed to many other societies. All too often, the prospect of securing loot tempts soldiers into abandoning their battlefield duties. Avarice is the inevitable child of wealth. By creating a society in which wealth did not exist, Lyequinegus ensured that no Pegasopolan soldier would ever let greed turn their minds from duty.
Eventually, a few of the reivers succeeded in forcing an exit, all but tearing down one of the walls in the process. While that allowed the three of them to escape, it spelled the doom of the other survivors, for the destruction of one wall caused the tavern’s ceiling to collapse, burying those within under flaming rubble.
The three surviving reivers looked a poor sight indeed. Whatever stolen finery they had once bedecked themselves with was now a singed and soot-covered mess, and the rest of their bodies were in a similar condition. What arms and armor they possessed were mismatched and had visible spots of rust even underneath the soot. Even in fair open combat, these reivers would have made a poor showing against my soldiers.
As they were: frightened, drunk, smoke-blind, and half-immolated, they stood nary a chance of even beginning to resist before we cut them down. It was almost insultingly simple to kill them.
Our next opponents would prove a slightly more worthy match, though. Even though Nimbus had triggered her raincloud to contain the blaze for the moment, the fire, smoke, and screams had drawn no shortage of attention. That is not to mention that, judging by the smoke and cries coming from other portions of the camp, the rest of my clan was enjoying similarly spectacular results. While the destruction we wrought was considerable, there could be no doubt that the alarm was now raised.
However, it would seem that Bright Charger’s estimate of the enemy’s strength had been o’eroptimistic. Mayhap their numbers had been bolstered by their most recent successes. No matter, that just ensured that there would enough of the enemy left to make this a worthy victory instead of a mere massacre.
The first few reivers we met were little better than their fellows at the tavern. While not drunk or suffering the ill effects of fire and smoke, a lone one or two griffons could offer little more than a moment’s inconvenience to five battle-hardened pegasi, especially when we often took them all but unawares. While the griffons knew that we had come for them, they could hardly know the location of every hunter squad within their camp.
However, as we pressed on, continuing our search for the captive ponies, we began to encounter signs of more organized resistance. Larger bands of reivers, whom we avoided rather than meet in battle when the numbers were against us. One of the great reiver captains must be rallying them to his banner. While reivers as a rule are a wild and undisciplined lot, their captains are often individuals of considerable personal strength and magnetism. No mere thug could command the respect of a reiver host.
Our expedition might have been troubled, were it not for the Charger detachment. Shield Charger and his forces could no doubt espy this reiver commander rallying their forces, and with a loud cry Shield and his kin, their polished armor glistening in the firelight, unleashed their fury upon the enemy. There are few things in this world that can stand firm against a massed cavalry charge—reivers are not amongst them.
The entrance of the second half of our forces broke what coordination the reivers had, and soon all thoughts of organized resistance fled their minds entirely. From there, it was just a matter of mopping up isolated pockets of reivers, most of whom had little thought beyond the animal instinct to flee for their lives.
It was in the aftermath of mopping up one such pocket of resistance that I spotted a rather unusual set of griffons flying from the camp. I might not have seen them at all, if not for a brief glimmer of light reflecting off of their hastily-blackened armor. That in and of itself was telling—as a rule, reivers are poorly equipped by military standards. Most content themselves with whatever weapons or armor they can loot from their fallen enemies and comrades, while spending their plunder on satisfying their numerous vices. This fleeing group of griffons, however, seemed to be equipped with proper weapons and armor.
I took to wing in pursuit. Well-equipped griffons fleeing the battlefield could only mean that they were guarding someone or something of great importance. I was disinclined to allow them to do so. A few hasty swipes of my hooves removed much of the blackening from my armor, a quick and simple signal for reinforcements, if anypony happened to see my departure. Well-equipped opponents were often well-trained ones as well, and while I could only see half a dozen of the enemy, that still gave them the advantage of numbers.
With my armor exposed, it did not take the enemy long to realize they were pursued. I am unsure whether I was pleased or concerned when they turned about to face us. On the one hoof, it ensured that we would meet them in battle. On the other, they would not have turned to meet us unless they were reasonably confident in their odds of success.
Still, I was reasonably optimistic of our odds of victory. I had seen to equipping my clan with wing blades for this battle, and there is no weapon better suited to aerial combat than a wing blade. While the wing blade’s ability to pierce armor is sometimes lacking, wings cannot bear heavy armor without impeding their flight functions. A single wing blade strike could cripple or even sever a wing, either of which was a killing blow when battling hundreds of feet above the ground.
As we neared the enemy, I found myself briefly lamenting the absence of any Chargers from my team. It seemed we would meet the griffons in a head-to-head charge, a situation ideally suited to the lances favored by that clan. So be it—I would simply make do with the resources of my own clan. I was confident they would prove more than capable of securing victory.
Now the griffons were close enough that I could see the metal gleaming off their talons and hindpaws. I was unsure if my soldiers had ever faced proper griffon warriors in battle before. “Ware their talons!” I cautioned. “Strike and fade. In close battle they have the advantage, and if they gain a solid grasp thou shalt likely perish.” I might have explained further, but the enemy was all but upon us.
The griffon’s talons raked at my chest as we passed, but they found no solid purchase. A moment later my wing met his, and my blade cleaved flesh from bone and feather from wing. While I did not succeed in severing the limb, I had caused more than sufficient damage to render it useless, and the griffon plummeted, vainly struggling to stay airborne with only a single working wing.
The pass had not gone so well for all of my ponies, though. Stratus had also succeeded in taking down her foe, while Boulder and his griffon had exchanged blows to no lasting effect. Iron, however, had struck off his foe’s wing only to be caught by one of the griffon’s talons, and frantically kicked out to dislodge his foe as he fought to remain airborne. It proved to be of no avail, for a second later the griffon’s free talon slashed out, ripping through one of Iron’s wings.
Then they fell.
Finally, there was Nmbus, who had shown much potential earlier with her forethought and initiative. Her griffon had managed to secure a solid hold, clapping his talons together around her helmet and clawing for her eyes. Her instinct briefly overcame her training as she pushed back with her forelegs, slamming the well-armored claw and further disorienting herself. Her opponent saw an opening and spun her about, putting his superior reach and strength to good use. Soon, the griffon’s hind legs were up against her belly, where there was naught but chainmail protecting her. The chain managed to hold off the griffon’s steel-shod claws as it raked at her belly, but only for a few seconds.
I heard her screams from the other side of the field as the griffon tore into her. I was perversely reminded of a cat trying to clamber up a table as his hind claws scrambled beneath her, taking more metal and flesh with each pass. What little blackening that remained on Nimbus' armor quickly faded as it returned to a truer red than before. The attack would likely have continued in its full savagery for a long while had I not intervened. The sight of another assailant caught his eye, and he shook his hind legs to free himself from a coil of intestine that had become ensnared around it. Nimbus fell from his grasp, wings limp as she instead tried to put her entrails back inside her.
I tore into the griffon with a vengeance, casting subtlety and finesse aside as I slammed a steel-shod hoof into its face. The central spike on my war shoes did its job perfectly concentrating the force of my blow into a single crushing point. The top half of the griffon’s beak vanished in an explosion of blood and viscera, and the beast staggered back in shock. I followed with a second strike that caved in an eye socket and pierced the eye itself. The griffon’s head reeled back as it let out a warbling shriek of agony, cut short when I slammed a hoof into its throat, crushing it.
Before the slain griffon had even begun to fall, I was on a third. My blood was up now, and it would not calm while there were any enemies yet living on the field. This one had been focused entirely on his exchange with Boulder, and did not realize where the true threat lay until far too late. I hooked one hoof under its beak, and put the other at the top of its helmet. Then I simply turned its head, until I heard a very distinctive snap, and the griffon went limp.
And then there were none left. The sky was ours.
“Find what they were protecting,” I snapped at my two remaining soldiers, fury still lacing my voice. While I have, of necessity, learned to endure the deaths of soldiers under my command, even now any passing makes me sorely wroth. Thankfully, I have learned how to channel that anger, the means to use it to push my body to its limits. Anger does not blind me—rather, my rage makes me stronger and gives me focus. Or at least, it does on most occasions.
A pained mewl from Nimbus dispelled the last of my wrath. Despite her horrific wounds, she had somehow managed to make her way to small tuft of cloud, which was already turning pink as her vital fluids continued leaking out. So long as she could whimper in pain, she was still alive. “Belay that order, see to Nimbus’ wounds.” Iron Kicker had already been dragged to his doom, and I would not lose half the ponies entrusted to my command if there was another option. The griffons had fallen—whatever charge they protected could be found easily enough on their corpses.
In any case, searching their bodies proved needless, for Status and Boulder were still hard at work seeing to Nimbus’s wounds when reinforcements arrived in the form of Stalwart Kicker and the reserve teams. The sergeant took one look at Nimbus, and signaled for the platoon chirurgeon to take over her care. Boulder and Stratus thankfully passed her into the medicae’s capable hooves—they had done what they could, but both likely knew no more of medicine than any soldier.
Stalwart looked us over, and noted another absence in our ranks. “Iron?” A mute shake of my head gave the answer to his question, and the sergeant hissed out a curse under his breath. “I saw your departure, but to my sorrow we could not reach you in time. You have my deepest apologies, m’lady.”
“That is the nature of battle, Stalwart.” The entire clash had passed in the space of less than a minute—even a dedicated speed flier would have faced difficulty making it to our position in time to have saved either of our casualties.
Stalwart and Stratus both turned to go. Boulder, however, remained with the medicae to help with their patient. Nimbus feebly thrashed ‘neath their ministrations, her wing instinctively curling itself around her torso even as they tried to sew it back together. The brown stallion went to his kinsmare and gently pulled her wing back, holding it away. Giant hooves which I have seen crush through walls cradled Nimbus’ head, firmly but gently pulling her gaze upwards.
“Peace, child,” he rumbled. “Look not. All will be well before long. I am sorry that you must feel such pain, but you need not watch.”
Whether through Boulder’s strength or her own loss of fluids, her movements subsided. Soon, the only indications of life I could see were the rising of her chest, along with a pained, muted whimper, which prompted more words of comfort from Boulder.
My attention was finally torn from the scene by Stalwart’s voice. “I can offer some measure of good news, m’lady. While we did not arrive quickly enough to aid you in battle, we were able to secure what the griffons sought to protect.”
“Is that so?” I spared one last glance for Nimbus before turning my focus fully to the sergeant. “Very well then. What did I buy with Iron’s life and Nimbus’ blood?”
“You will release me at once!” The foppishly-dressed griffon demanded, his mustachios quivering in indignation. “This is an outrage! You have invaded the sovereign territory of Griffonia in an unprovoked act of aggression!”
“Your reivers have harried our shores for a month now,” I commented with annoyed disinterest. “Now, I imagine from the way you feel the need to dress in silk and gold, you hold some position of wealth and importance. Do feel free to enlighten me as to what that is.” In my experience nobles, whether griffon, unicorn, or any other race, will never hesitate to club anypony within speaking range over the head with their titles at the first opportunity.
As expected, the griffon drew himself up as best he could while bound in chains, his waxed mustachios and triple-chin trembling as he self-importantly announced. “I am Maxilian Ramus of House Talon, third of that name, and Archduke of Eastmarch.”
“How wonderful for thee,” I commented dryly. “Stalwart? Hit him.”
Stalwart obligingly drove a hoof into the Archduke’s prodigious stomach, causing the fop to curl into a ball and begin whining in overstated agony. More’s the pity I could not employ such measures against certain members of Equestria’s nobility.
The Archduke’s presence did explain why Griffonian Knights had been on field, at least. Only a fool would come into a reiver camp unescorted, and when their effort to secret their lord unnoticed failed, they tried to buy him time to escape instead. Pity for the knights that their lord flew only slightly faster than the beached whale he resembled.
Once the Archduke’s whimpering stilled, I resumed our conversation. “Tell me, Archduke, what business didst thou have within a reiver camp?” I turned to Stalwart, and casually added. “Hit him again if he tries to lie to me, sergeant.”
One bruise and a great deal of crying later, the Archduke at least made the effort of coming up with a somewhat plausible lie. “I was attempting to negotiate a cessation of reiver attacks upon Equestria. I warned the captains that if they continued their current course, they would bring doom upon all Griffonia.”
I did not believe the claim for a moment, not the least because it sounded like something a reasonably intelligent ruler might suggest. More likely, the Archduke had come to collect a share of the spoils in exchange for ignoring Griffonia’s treaty obligation to hunt down any reivers that attacked Equestria. I could hardly prove such a thing though. I nodded to Stalwart. “Prepare the prisoner for transport—the Commander can decide his fate.”
The Archduke let out a feeble moan of protest at the news, but Stalwart didn’t even have to smite him again to still his complaints. How wonderful, he was already learning.
Whilst Stalwart secured our prisoner, I took a moment to review our casualty reports. All things considered, we had come out of the operation quite well. Including my own team, the Kickers had suffered five deaths and seven significantly wounded, while the Chargers had only three dead, but nearly two dozen wounded. A consequence of our clans differing fighting styles, no doubt. Still, that was a small toll, compared to an estimated two hundred reivers and half a dozen Griffonian Knights slain.
My review of the casualty reports suffered a brief interruption when I heard the Archduke protesting that his chains were too heavy, and Stalwart’s subsequent correction. Another blow to the stomach proved too much for the obese griffon, and with a groan he heaved out the entirety of his rather considerable dinner. To my immense disgust, there was a considerable amount of meat within his vomit. It is one thing to know that griffons are occasional flesh-eaters, and quite another to see the evidence so plainly.
I turned my head from the spectacle in disgust, and sought to remove myself from the smell as quickly as possible. Before I could do so, however, Stalwart’s voice demanded my attention. “M’lady, you need to see this.”
I turned about to see Stalwart and several other ponies staring down at the vomit in horror. Certainly flesh-eating was a disgusting practice, but I could not imagine the mere spectacle of it provoking such a reaction from seasoned soldiers. I reluctantly looked down, to see if there was anything unusual about the vomit.
It took me a few moments to realize what it was, perhaps because the truth was simply too horrifying to contemplate. The truth began to dawn upon me as I noticed that several bits of flesh bore different, and very unusual colors for meat. After a few moments, I borrowed a lance from one of the Chargers and used the tip to poke at the meat, turning bits over and rearranging it until the cause of the discoloration was clear.
A cutie mark.
The Archduke had feasted upon pony flesh.
There are no words that could adequately describe my fury or revulsion. I whirled on the Archduke, who already trembled with terror now that the extent of his crimes had been revealed. There was no threat or attempt to intimidate in my voice. Simply a cold, hard, statement of fact. “Archduke, thou shalt tell us where we might find the remaining captives, or I will castrate thee, then flay the skin from thy bones an inch at a time. If thou survives the process for long enough, I will have thee feast upon thy own flesh for sustenance. Thou hast one chance to answer me. Do not squander it.”
“Basement!” He shrieked in terror. “They’re in a basement underneath the captain’s lodge! It was only the one, and they made me eat her! It’s not my fault!”
I did not even need to give the order for my soldiers to spring into action. Within minutes, they had uncovered the griffon’s meat locker and set to recovering the survivors. Thankfully, only two mares had been butchered thus far, but that was still two ponies too many.
Two mares and a colt. I was loathe to correct myself when two Chargers pulled him from the basement, a body so small that at first I thought it only part of one. Bile rose in my throat when I saw the empty yellow fur on his flank, and threatened to spill over when I saw the hook; he was the perverse image of a unicorn, a hook forced through his head from below. It was a small mercy that his torso was turned away from me, and hastily covered by one of the nearby soldiers. I would sleep restlessly enough with the image of Nimbus' wounds in my mind, but for such an atrocity to be committed upon a youngling goes beyond words.
While most of the soldiers saw to the needs of the survivors, Stalwart spared a contemptuous glare for the Archduke. “What is to be done with him?”
“You gave your word,” the equiphage whined pitiably. “You promised me mercy if I told you where the rest of them were.”
“Indeed I did.” Everypony within earshot froze in shock at that declaration, but I was not finished. “I am an honorable mare, and will keep my word. Thou shalt be neither castrated, nor flayed.” I turned to Stalwart, a cold smile on my face. “Hang him.”
After ensuring that the needs of our rescuees would be attended to, my fellow Ephors and I made haste to Manehatten. The Commander would need to know what had passed on the shores of Griffonia.
News of our actions in Westmarch necessarily preceded us to the city, as tending to the needs of those we rescued merited our attention foremost. Our reception upon arrival was most unusual: I’ve become accustomed to being regarded with wary curiosity on those occasions when I have visited my groundbound kin. I suspect that they wish to know more of those who dwell in the clouds, but are intimidated by our weapons, armor, and fearsome reputation.
This time, however, the ponies of Manehatten gazed upon us differently. The fear in their eyes was not quite so distant, yet this time it was mingled not with curiosity, but respect. I am sure that by now there were many colorful rumors flying about regarding the damage we had wrought ‘pon the griffons, and the events which provoked our actions. While nopony living in Manehatten, save the Commander herself, could actually remember the old days when the city had been under griffon occupation, a sort of collective memory lingered ‘mongst the inhabitants of the city. Though the earth ponies might fear our capacity for destruction, they were glad enough to see us turn it ‘gainst old enemies.
None attempted to stand ‘tween us and the Commander’s offices in the chancellor’s mansion. In fairness, even without the infamy of our recent acts hanging heavily in the air, few would dare stand against four Ephors and their attending guards. ‘Tis a rather intimidating force.
As we approached the Commander’s offices, my body grew tense at the sound of a griffon’s voice bellowing from within. ‘Twas easy enough to guess at what passed—no doubt an envoy from Griffonia was in the midst of making a great fuss about the justice we had wrought upon them.
“We demand justice!” the hypocritical griffon thundered. “Does Equestria now attack our shores without provocation? Does the Queen have no respect for the treaty between our nations? Equestria must answer for this crime, or—” The envoy’s rhetorical efforts came to an abrupt end as my fellow Ephors and I entered the room, depriving him of the full attention of his audience.
Between the various earth pony officials, the Archmagus and assembled unicorn courtiers, the Griffonian ambassador and his entourage, and our own group, the Commander’s offices were now quite crowded. For all the ridiculous pomp and pageantry of Canterlot, the Commander’s throne room was far better suited to accommodating large gatherings than the more modest offices which accompanied the position of Chancellor.
The Griffonian ambassador was quick to seize upon our arrival for his next point of rhetoric. “So the criminals themselves now dare to show their faces here!” The griffon leveled an accusing talon at my fellow Ephors as well as myself. “These are the foul brigands who dared to come to our shores and do murder upon our subjects! I demand justice!”
“If justice is thy desire,” Bright Charger answered him hotly, “then I would gladly offer thee or any champion thou might choose juris ungula .”
The griffon took a half-step back at the naked threat in her words, and the pair of griffon knights accompanying him moved nearer their master. Not that a mere two griffons could do anything of significance to protect their master if matters came to blows. After a few tense seconds, the griffon ambassador opted for a return to verbal sparring over Bright’s offer of combat. “And now we see the nature of these pegasi laid bare: their only answer to the charges brought ‘gainst them is to offer threats of yet more violence, and this time ‘pon a peaceful envoy!”
“So, ‘twould seem thou art a craven as well as a liar,” Bright countered. The ambassador and his guards stiffened at her words, which Bright did not fail to notice. “Have I given thee offense?” Bright feigned innocence whilst wearing a mocking smile ‘pon her lips. “If that be the case, then by all means dispute my words, and I should be quite willing to allow thee redress for thy grievances in battle.”
For a second I hoped that the ambassador might be foolish enough to rise to the bait. If there was any point of commonality between griffon and pegasus, it was that ‘mongst both races there are few graver charges than that of cowardice. The ambassador’s cheeks flushed and his countenance grew wrothful, but to my faint dismay one of his protectors put a talon ‘pon his shoulder and whispered into his master’s ear. ‘Twas not hard to guess the content of his words, even if I could not hear them. Even I would hesitate to face Bright Charger in single combat, and I was no diplomat accustomed to sleeping in silk sheets and dining upon fine delicacies. A second later my stomach turned at the memory of just what delicacies the griffons had feasted upon.
I wonder if this ambassador had indulged in such barbarism? If so, then juris ungula was a far better end than he deserved. I bore witness to one of the dozen instances in which Bright Charger engaged in a duel—a time when she dueled one of my own clan, in point of fact. I had not yet taken the mantle of leadership from my father at the time, but I was the ranking Kicker at the scene and thus expected to bear witness to the conflict. Spark Kicker was of an age where she was arrogantly certain of the rightness of her cause and her own invincibility. Bright was quick to disabuse her of the latter notion. (1)
1: While Shadow doesn’t specify whether this occurs before Bright Charger became an Ephor, it would be highly unusual for an Ephor to duel a common soldier. Social customs at the time allowed ponies to ignore any challenges from social inferiors, and no honor would be gained by victory. However, given what we see of her character, if Spark Kicker had offended her enough Bright Charger might well have taken the duel regardless of whether she gained any honor from it.
It seems almost perverse of me to say so, especially in light of the fact that Bright’s opponent was a kinsmare, but my only sensation as I watched the duel unfold was one of respect and—if I am honest—awe at Bright Charger's brutal efficiency. Even against an arrogant whelp, she held little back. Thankfully, my young and foolish clanmate grasped how badly she erred before Bright had no choice but to claim her lifesblood. That Bright Charger could so effortlessly and decisively crush her opponent without even striking a fatal blow only offered further testament to her skill.
Sadly, the Griffonian Ambassador was not so foolish as Spark Kicker. Once he had properly restrained his choler, he returned to his preferred weapons of rhetoric and wordplay rather than face Bright Charger on the field of her choosing. “Dost thou desire yet more death, Ephor? Was the infamous butchery thou didst inflict ‘pon Westmarch not enough to sate thy bloodlust?” He turned to face the Commander. “Your Majesty, surely you cannot intend to allow these crimes against decency and good order to pass unpunished?”
The Commander remained silent for a long moment, carefully considering her answer at length before responding. “Equestria is a nation of laws, ambassador. Those who violate our laws will be properly punished, no matter what their station.” Despite the gravity of the situation, a part of me could not help but gratefully reflect that one of the advantages of the Commander dwelling ‘mongst the earth ponies was a distinct absence of the Traditional Royal Canterlot Voice whilst in court.
“I am glad to hear it.” The griffon gave her a respectful dip of his head. “Your reputation for just and fair rule is known even ‘mongst griffonkind. I am certain we can, as civilized beings, find a peaceful resolution to this matter.”
“I am sure we can.” The faintest hint of a smile crossed the Commander's face. “Wouldst thou not agree that ‘twould be most appropriate for a nation which precipitated a series of attacks in violation of an existing treaty to provide compensation?”
“That would be most fair,” the ambassador agreed.
The Commander’s smile widened ever so slightly, and she gave a polite nod to the griffon. “At the very least, the offending nation should provide funds sufficient to cover the damages inflicted by the attack, as well as paying weregild to families of those slain.” (2) The Commander brought a thoughtful hoof up under her chin. “For a particularly severe offense, one might even discuss the matter of territorial compensation.” That remark prompted several murmurs from within the assembled crowd of dignitaries, presumably those who had not yet grasped what Commander Celestia intended.
2: A payment of blood money to the family of murder victims as compensation for their loss.
The ambassador did a poor job of hiding the avarice that lit his eyes. “You are most wise, Your Majesty. I think that a territorial cession would do much to demonstrate that our nations are both committed to maintaining peaceful relations, and allow us to put this ugly incident behind us.”
“Peace between pony and griffon has always been my desire.” Commander Celestia closed her eyes, seeming to be in deep thought. “When last our races went to war, I chose not to seek fresh conquests or empire, but rather to create the framework for a stable and lasting peace. War is a terrible thing, ambassador, and I would gladly sacrifice much to prevent it.”
The ambassador was about to speak once more when the Commander held up a hoof to forestall him. “Such is my commitment to ongoing peace between our peoples,” she continued, “that I will grant thy nation this one chance to provide appropriate compensation to all the victims of the recent reiver attacks, and may even be persuaded to set aside the matter of territorial concessions—provided that the High King amply demonstrates his commitment to fulfilling Griffonia’s treaty obligation to prevent any reiver attack from reaching Equestria’s shores.”
I must say, the slack-beaked expression of shock on the griffon’s face when the Commander closed the jaws of her verbal trap around him was most satisfying. Before the ambassador could recover his wits, Archmagus Sparkle stepped forward and produced a rather substantial scroll. “I have taken the liberty of preparing a list of damages and expected payments from all the recent reiver attacks. I am certain we can expect to receive the High King’s payment promptly.”
Taking the list in his talon seemed to snap the griffon out of his stupor, and he let out an indignant squawk. “This is an outrage! ‘Tis Equestria that is in the wrong in this matter, not Griffonia!” He thrust a talon quivering with rage towards Bright Charger. “These ponies attacked Griffonia’s shores! Three of our coastal villages have been transformed into abattoirs! Over a hundred corpses were put on display in Clawburg, while the victims in Brefon were decapitated and their heads loaded on a cart and delivered to the High King himself! Most outrageous of all, in Lubeak the pegasus marauders dared to hang the Archduke of Westmarch as if he were naught but a common criminal!”
Rather than dignify the ambassador’s words with a direct response or even bother listening to his continued ranting and raving, I turned to Steel Striker, a faintly mocking smile upon my lips. “Delivering the severed heads to the High King? A nice maneuver, but mayhaps a touch melodramatic.”
Steel answered me with usual laconic flair. “Hanging an Archduke is not?” I conceded the point to him with a nod.
“I feel rather inadequate,” Bright Charger groused. “When next I go into battle, I must make a point of finding some suitably dramatic display for my victory.”
“At least the three of thee were able to participate in the battle.” Rightly heaved out a dramatic sigh. “Whilst I found myself confined to the reserves, denied the opportunity to gain honor and renown or make a suitable statement of my own martial prowess. ‘Tis likely the Griffonian Ambassador will not even think to demand my head on a platter.”
We all shared a brief chuckle at that, then returned our attention to the ambassador, who seemed to be winding down his latest diatribe. “... and finally, Equestria must submit to a regime of inspection to ensure that there are no further preparations made for acts of unprovoked aggression against the peace-loving nation of Griffonia. These are the High King’s terms, Your Majesty. If you will not meet them, then I fear the consequences will be most grave.”
By this point most of the ponies in the room were glaring at the ambassador with varying levels of fury and outrage. The two most notable exceptions were Archmagus Sparkle and the Commander herself. The former seemed entirely too pleased with herself, while the latter had adopted an expression of thoughtful silence that could not entirely conceal a certain sense of amusement. Clearly, they had something planned.
After several long seconds, the Commander gave a nod heavy with weary resignation. “It seems that thou hast left me with no choice, ambassador.” She turned to the four of us, a merry light dancing in her eyes. “Ephors, I must ask thee to return to Cloudsdale forthwith and begin mustering the clans.” She turned to the others in her retinue. “Sunbeam, I trust you can see to readying the Royal Guard and gathering Unicornia’s levies. I am certain that Vice-Chancellor Fields can gather the earth pony militias.”
The ambassador gave several confused blinks. “Your Majesty? I do not understand...”
“It is not so complicated as all that.” The Archmagus shot a smile dripping with condescension and false sincerity at the griffon. “Thou hast just delivered an ultimatum to Her Majesty—one she has refused to accept. Thus, the natural result is that a state of war now exists ‘tween Equestria and Griffonia.”
The ambassador’s beak opened and closed several times as he struggled to articulate a response to this latest development. Archmagus Sparkle used the opportunity to twist the knife. “I must say, this is an unexpectedly bold move. After all, the death of the Archduke has no doubt plunged Westmarch into a succession crisis. Mayhap even an all-out war. That is not to mention that thy current High King is both aged and heirless. Were I he, I might fear that my vassals would withhold their forces from the battlelines in order to better position themselves for the coming civil war.” She fixed the ambassador with a wickedly knowing grin. “I am sure the High King has accounted for those issues, though.”
Damnation. If the Archmagus made a habit of destroying our mutual enemies so ably, I might begin experiencing some difficulty in hating her.
The Griffonian ambassador finally seemed to recover his senses, and began hastily backpedaling, almost stumbling over his own words. “I did not—’twas not my intention to deliver an ultimatum as such, merely a statement of the High King’s position at this current point in the negotiating process...”
“I am sure it was just our misunderstanding.” Archmagus Sparkle answered him with a deceptively friendly smile. “Just so matters are clear...” She produced another scroll to accompany the first one which listed the damages from the reiver raids. “This is an ultimatum. I believe thy High King will find our terms most generous, in light of the current political realities. As Her Majesty stated, we have even deferred on the matter of territorial compensation—provided there is no further reiver activity, of course.”
The ambassador looked of the two scrolls, his wings steadily dropping downwards. “I ... yes, of course. I am sure you understand, Archmagus, that I must consult with the High King before I could provide a proper answer.”
“That is only reasonable,” the Commander readily agreed. “I am sure a week will suffice to consult thy master and agree ‘pon thy response.” Commander Celestia fixed the ambassador with an uncompromising steely-eyed glare. “I would also ask thee to convey the following personal message to thy King from me.” She cleared her throat before proceeding, and I noted a subtle hint of the o’erwhelming aura of authority she sometimes carried. “Even now, I would gladly offer him my hoof in friendship; however, I am neither naive nor weak. It would be most unwise to mistake my desire for peace as an inability or unwillingness to wage war, should the situation call for it. Griffonia still bears the scars of my sister’s visit to its shores, and she is the younger of us.” She gave that fact a few moments to sink in before continuing. “Older ursas are more difficult to awaken, but when they are stirred from slumber there are far fewer options to appease them.”
The ambassador swallowed and took an instinctive step away from the Commander, nearly stumbling over his own paws. After that momentary lapse, he forced himself to stand up straight and declared in as level a voice as he could manage, “I shall convey your message to the High King at once, Your Majesty.” Some shred of dignity salvaged, he beat a hasty retreat.
All the ponies assembled in the Commander’s office let out a relieved breath now that the matter was resolved. The Commander offered her assembled aides a gentle smile and announced, “With that matter resolved, I would speak with my Ephors.” She cast a look about the crowded office and let out a low chuckle. “However, I think I must ask many of thee to find other tasks to occupy thy time, lest we all suffocate or crush one another. If all save my Grand Vizier, Vice-Chancellor, and the Ephors themselves would depart?” She phrased it as a polite question, but nopony thought to take it as anything less than a direct order, and all made haste to comply.
Once all and sundry had departed, the Commander faced me, and I caught an expression ‘pon her face that disturbed me greatly. She was frowning, but worse was the displeased judgment about her eyes that put me in mind of a mother who had just spotted her foal sneaking treats. She looked at me not as a loyal and capable servant, but as if I had personally failed her. “Shadow, did I not make my wishes clear to thee when last we discussed the matter of the griffons?”
Ah. ‘Twould seem that the time had come to discuss the matter of her orders. “Yes Commander, your orders were perfectly clear. However, it was the Ephorate’s judgement that, in keeping with the Fourth Axiom of—”
“The Ephorate does not have the authority to override Her Majesty’s orders!” Archmagus Sparkle snapped, slamming a hoof onto the floor to emphasize her point. Beneath her anger, however, lay the hint of darkly gleeful smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She was far too pleased to see me being reprimanded by the Commander.
“Fourth Axiom says we do,” Steel grunted in response.
“You cite ancient laws written for ancient times.” The Grand Vizier made no effort to conceal the naked contempt in her voice. “Dusty old codes to match your dusty old institutions.”
“That is enough, Sunbeam,” the Commander cut in. “I know well of thy desire to reform Equestria’s institutions, and thy efforts to convince me of the merit of thy cause have not gone unheeded. However, for now the law is as it is.”
“Indeed it is.” Rightly spared a particularly disdainful look for Archmagus Sparkle before addressing the Commander. “To be clear, we invoked the Fourth Axiom upon learning that the reivers had taken captives in their most recent raid. Time was of the essence, and we could ill afford the delay of asking the Commander’s permission before acting. As it was, three of the captives were—” Rightly needed a moment to swallow gorge before he could continue. “Three of the captives were eaten before Shadow’s rescue party could arrive.”
“And in that much, all of thee have done well,” the Commander assured us. “I would not have my subjects perish horribly while it was within thy power to save them, even if it means going against my stated wishes. However—” I could not help a slight flinch at the emergence of that particularly ominous word, “—it is undeniable that thou didst vastly exceeded the mandate granted unto thee by the Axiom.”
“Oh?” Bright Charger gave an angry flick of her wings. “Curious, then, that I would deny it.”
Everypony in the room stiffened at that remark. It was one thing to debate or discuss matters with the Commander civilly, but Bright Charger had gone a step beyond that. Her words came hazardously close to outright insubordination.
Commander Celestia focused her attention on Charger for several long seconds, then spoke with carefully measured patience. “I understand, Ephor, that the last few days have been most trying for thee. Allow me to make my meaning plain, then: in the rescue of the captives, I am well pleased with thy actions. However, all of thee did far more than was needful to accomplish this laudable goal. Three towns all but massacred? Bodies put on display? Trophies sent to the High King? Nobles executed like common criminals? These are not things I wish associated with Equestria. We should be above such acts of barbarity.”
“The rescue of captives was never your true objective,” Archmagus Sparkle added scathingly. “It was merely the excuse you used to provide a legal cover whilst you blatantly defied Her Majesty’s wishes.”
“If the Ephorate desires thy opinion, Archmagus, then we shall ask for it.” My voice came out in a tight, angry snarl. “As we have not yet done so, I would ask that you cease the flapping of your jaws and kindly remove yourself from matters that are none of your concern.” I was beyond all tolerance with the Archmagus’ constant intrusions into matters where she had no right or authority to involve herself. For one who had been so quick to bristle when she believed we had overstepped our mandate, she was quick enough to overstep her own.
“Enough,” Commander Celestia snapped at the both of us. That chastisement completed, she addressed my fellow Ephors. “While Sunbeam’s words are too harsh, they are not devoid of truth. Thy operation shows all the signs of having vengeance as its primary goal, and rescue as a secondary objective. That is unacceptable.”
“Not revenge,” Steel rumbled. “Justice.”
“By law and treaty, the griffon reivers were outside any protection of law,” Rightly continued Steel’s argument. “However, it was clear the griffons had no intention of taking measures to rein in the reiver activity. Had we not acted, ‘tis likely they would have continued their attacks unabated.” Rightly respectfully nodded to Commander Celestia. “With all due respect, ma’am, the only way the threat could have ended is the way it did. Attempting to use diplomacy on the griffons to compel them to police their own shores was a vain hope.”
“And one that cost good ponies their lives,” Bright Charger added. “One of the ponies they feasted on was a colt who’d not yet seen his tenth summer, Commander.”
Once more, Sunbeam could not contain herself. “Art thou questioning Her Majesty’s policies? I know not how affairs are conducted in Pegasopolis, but in Unicornia—”
“You will be silent, Archmagus!” I attempted to shout her down.
“ENOUGH !” The effect of the Traditional Royal Canterlot Voice was far worse when everypony was in a small office rather than the Commander’s throne room or outdoors. Even had we been inclined to continue fighting in the face of Commander Celestia’s manifest displeasure, we could hardly do so whilst the ringing in our ears had not yet subsided.
Once the Commander judged that we had sufficiently recovered to hear her words, she continued. “I have made my position upon the matter clear; let there be no more debate or argument on it. The Ephorate has erred, but no government is flawless. There will be no dismissals, censures, or any other form of retribution on the matter. The Ephorate acted, and I have informed them of my opinion. The matter is now closed, and any further discussion of it will incur my displeasure.”
After taking a few seconds to ensure that her message had been properly received, the Commander turned to her beleaguered Vice-Chancellor, Fertile Fields. I felt some sympathy for the poor earth pony—being caught between the jurisdictional struggles of pegasus and unicorn could not be an enviable position. “Fields, I would discuss the preparations for planting season with thee, whilst my more fractious advisors find some other activity to occupy their time.” The dismissal was clear, even if not explicitly stated.
After our departure from the Commander’s offices, my fellow Ephors and I made a point of distancing ourselves from Archmagus Sparkle. This was partially done out of distaste for her, and partially so that we might discuss her. Rightly wore a troubled frown as he addressed me. “That is the same Archmagus Sparkle who is to oversee the investigation into the matter of Clippings?”
“That she is,” I confirmed.
“Trouble,” Steel Striker opined. None could dispute his assessment of the matter.
“Commander Celestia places too much credence in the nag’s counsel.” Charger scowled back towards the Commander’s office. “Her words made it clear that we will know no peace so long as she continues to hold the post of Grand Vizier. And all Equestria will suffer for it.”
“That seems likely.” A hint of a knowing smile played at the corners of my mouth. “Thankfully, I’ve already set my daughter to the task of finding a means by which the Commander might be persuaded to dismiss her.” That announcement met with approving nods from my fellow Ephors. “I shall make a point of assessing her current progress in that task.”
I met with Gale the next day in one of Manehatten’s finer restaurants. One of the many advantages of having my daughter also serve as spymistress was avoiding the need for any subterfuge in our meetings. One could hardly find anything suspicious about a parent and child meeting to share a meal.
I confess that I’d never had occasion to dine in Manehatten before. The restaurant chosen by my daughter, a place by the name of Bree’s Turnabout, seemed a fine enough choice. While the restaurant itself lacked the ostentatiously rich decoration of Canterlot establishments, the polished wood grain of the tables, softness of the carpets, and gentle gleam of brass lanterns all bespoke a comfortable, restrained sort of luxury. Naturally most of my fellow diners were earth ponies—mostly wealthy landholders, bankers, and traders from the looks of them. In the background I also noted a somewhat out-of-place family of middling position, who appeared to engaged in some celebration that no doubt occasioned an extra degree of luxury.
The delivery of a large trencher stacked with a mixture of grilled corn and carrots drenched in a sweetly spicy sauce did much to elevate the eatery in my eyes. Unicornian cuisine has an unfortunate tendency towards preposterously small portions. No doubt because the Unicornian nobility rarely exerts the sort of efforts that would require a proper meal at day’s end. The earth ponies, with their roots firmly in the realms of farm and labor, at least knew how to provide filling food.
Gale sat across from me, dining on her own equally substantial meal consisting of stuffed biscuits covered in thick, creamy gravy. She tore into it with the usual gusto of a mare who had not yet shed the appetites of youth, though I suspect the both of us might require an extra hour in training to shed the effects of this fine meal. At the moment I could not bring myself to be overly concerned about it.
Once we’d consumed enough to sate our appetites for the moment, I set my mind to the business of the day. “How goes thy task?”
Gale took a moment to wipe her hooves and dab at her mouth with one of the provided napkins before answering me. “Better than I had hoped, Mother. I think I have found all that you require, and more.” A fond smile crossed her face. “Young Midnight was most helpful in my endeavors.”
“Truly?” I followed my daughter’s example in cleaning hooves and face. While earth pony cooking might be satisfying, the act of eating it could easily cause one to become somewhat befouled. “I had not thought that a mere child would be privy to the Archmagus’ secrets.”
“She was not privy to any secrets as such,” Gale confirmed. “However, she was most eager to invite me to a tea party. Naturally, the event was hosted in her mother’s quarters at the Commander’s mansion.” My daughter grinned at me and took a long drink from her tankard of cider.
“Have a care, daughter,” I gently chided her. “I would not have thee indulge too much. The brews of earth ponies are infamous for their potency.”
Gale directed a most annoyed frown towards me. “I’ve had but a single tankard, and I am a mare grown. Thou needs not concern thyself that I am on the verge of becoming a drunkard.”
I offered a noncommittal grunt and reluctantly conceded the matter with a nod. “Nonetheless, caution is advised.”
“I shall bear thy advice close to my heart, Mother.” Gale lifted her tankard, I suspect at least partially to spite me. “In any case, young Midnight’s tea party provided easy access to the Archmagus’ quarters. ‘Twas a simple enough matter to disable what few defenses remained after that. Though sophisticated, they were not particularly dangerous. Most likely, she did not wish to have lethal trap spells where her daughter might trigger them with idle curiosity.”
Gale offered a light smile and let out a soft peal of laughter before adding, “The tea party was most enjoyable as well. ‘Twas a most engaging tale of murder, deception, betrayal, and intrigue. In the end, we discovered that Viceroy Stuffins murdered Lady Button Eyes upon discovering that their children were not in fact theirs, but the result of an incestuous affair between Lady Button Eyes and Lord Lordington of Lordsdale.” My daughter let out a sound half between a giggle and a snort, no doubt amused by her memories of the event. “The crumpets were also quite good.”
It is perhaps a worrying sign that tales of young Midnight’s oddities no longer concerned me.
My daughter seemed to be in a rare mood today. I could guess the cause of it, and it saddened me that I might be compelled to diminish her happiness. “I wonder if thou didst enjoy thy time with the Archmagus’ daughter overmuch? There are many hazards to building a friendship with the daughter of a current enemy.”
Gale’s smile disappeared, and troubled frown took its place. After several long seconds, she spoke once more. “I’ve a thought, Mother. If we require leverage against the Archmagus, ‘twould not be difficult for me to remove her daughter. Young Midnight trusts me, and would accompany me if asked to do so.” Gale brought a hoof to her chin and musingly asked, “Could we even call it an abduction when the victim willingly follows her foalnapper?” She gave a quick shake of her head to cast the idle thought aside. “Regardless of the nomenclature, one can hardly deny that if we were to take possession of her daughter, the Archmagus would be far more pliable to our wishes. We could likely even have her agree to foster the filly to our care after the fact, just to maintain the appearance that all was proper.” (3)
3: At the time, it was not uncommon for noble families to send their children to live with another noble family for a few years. Sometimes this was done to secure alliances or build bonds of friendship. However, it was not unusual for such arrangements to also be little more than window-dressing for holding the child ransom, as Gale intends here.
I let out an incredulous snort. “Thou cannot truly mean to suggest such a course?” My daughter met my eyes levelly, and there was no hint of levity in her gaze. When it was clear this was no jest, my own gaze hardened. “Neigh. I’ll not steal a child away from her mother simply to gain a political advantage.” I privately wondered if perhaps my daughter’s growing fondness for the filly had prompted this particular suggestion. Mayhap she secretly desired to claim young Midnight for her own?
Damnation. Forty-three was too young for me to become a grandmother.
Gale gave an agitated flick of her wings, clearly displeased by my refusal but not daring to say as much to my face. “I will abide by thy decision, Mother.” She returned her attention to her meal for several long moments then reached into her saddlebags a produced a bundle of scrolls. “I’ve prepared a summary of my findings for thy perusal. The first scroll contains all that I can prove to a reasonable degree of certainty, while the next three are things that are likely true, but cannot yet be proven.”
I opened up the first scroll and scanned through its contents. Not all of it was immediately useful to my cause—Sunbeam’s various unethical political dealings were mostly likely an ugly fact of Canterlot politics. A new grand vizier would simply make different arrangements with different factions within the court. I would need something more to convince the Commander to set Archmagus Sparkle aside.
Thankfully, further investigation of the documents showed that my daughter had provided the tools I needed to accomplish that task.
While I am not normally inclined to o’erdramatic gestures, something as significant as attempting to the dismissal of the grand vizier of Unicornia necessarily required a certain degree of theatrics. Sometimes one must make certain concessions to one’s preferred methods of operation in the name of accomplishing one’s goals.
I timed my arrival for the middle of one of the Commander’s meetings with several counselors within the earth pony government. Some of Gale’s findings promised to be most efficacious for bringing them into accord with the Ephorate on the matter of Sunbeam Sparkle. While the decision ultimately lay in the Commander’s hooves, ‘twas likely that the opinions of her unicorn and earth pony advisors would carry considerable weight in her final decision.
And so, despite my distaste for such productions, I stormed into the Commander’s office, flanked by the looming presence of Sergeant Stalwart and Boulder. Once I was certain that my sudden entrance had captured the attention of all the ponies in attendance, I levelled a dramatic hoof at Sunbeam Sparkle and declared in a loud, authoritative bellow that would not be out-of-place ‘pon a battlefield, “Archmagus and Grand Vizier Sunbeam Sparkle! At this time and place do I accuse you of crimes both foul and infamous, and demand that you resign your position as a member of Commander Celestia’s government!”
Though I’ve little taste for drama, I flatter myself that I’m reasonably accomplished in its production.
‘Fore anypony could offer comment ‘pon the charges beyond idle muttering, the Commander silenced all with a single glare. A moment later I heard her voice, though her lips moved not. I suspect she must have used some magical artifice to speak to me and me alone. “Shadow, I pray thee, let this matter rest. The pursuit of it can only end badly for all involved.”
I was unsure if my spoke words would be conveyed to Commander Celestia alone, or if all and sundry would hear them and wonder at why I spoke so. Thus, I answered her with a mere shake of my head. Despite the Commander’s wishes, I could not let the matter rest. To abandon it now would effectively exonerate Archmagus Sparkle of the charges, and render the prospect of any further political action against her by the Ephorate all but impossible. ‘Twas too late to let the matter rest—battle was joined, and attempting to withdraw would only seal my defeat. There was nothing for it but to continue on until victory was claimed. Even the greatest victory Archmagus Sparkle could achieve in answering my charges could not match the success she would find if I surrendered entirely to her.
I returned my full attention to my foe. If the accusation startled or disturbed Archmagus Sparkle, she gave no indication of it. “Crimes both foul and infamous, is it? My my, I have been busy.” While I did not rise to bait provided by her clear disdain, I felt my tail swish about in an annoyed flick. With a cold, mocking smile on her face, Sunbeam continued. “I wonder which rumors you’ve latched upon to accuse me. Hopefully not merely the usual sorts about me plotting to overthrow Her Majesty and claim the throne for my own. Those are so boringly conventional.” She gave a cavalier toss of her head, no doubt to show how unbothered she was by my claims. “Verily, one is hardly even a proper grand vizier until one has been accused of plotting treason ‘gainst the crown."
She took several steps forward, placing herself nearer to me than I wished. “I much prefer the more creative tales of my misdeeds. So which is it to be, Ephor? Do I make blood sacrifices to dark powers simply to gain a foalsitter for my daughter? Use invisibility or transmutation spells to intrude upon the intimacy of other ponies? Snatch fillies out of their beds and bathe in their blood to maintain my youth and beauty? Engage in weeks-long debauch to drain dozens of young, virile stallions of their vital essences for my own empowerment?”
Despite the utter absurdity of the charges, I could not rule out the possibility that one or more of them were true.
Archmagus Sparkle let out a low laugh, and took another step towards me. “Or mayhap you have seized ‘pon the foulest rumor of the lot: that I am secretly a stallion who uses my robes to hide an organ of truly commendable size and girth. I can assure you, the last of these charges is utterly false.” She moved so closer her nose was near to touching mine, and her voice became a low, sultry whisper. “I am sure we could arrange a private inspection, if it is your wish to confirm my marehood. I assure you, it could withstand any measure thou might wish to take ‘gainst it to test its veracity.”
The lewd invitation in her words discomfited me, which I must suspect had been Sunbeam’s goal from the first. I struggled to put her prurient words out of my mind and keep my attention focused ‘pon the matter at hoof. It did not help matters that she had made a mockery of my initial attempt to indict her. “The charges I bring to bear are no laughing matter, Archmagus,” I growled in an effort to return this conversation to its proper course.
My words had at least one desirable effect, as they prompted Sparkle to withdraw to a more proper distance. However, she still retained that aggravating air of utter confidence about herself, wearing an easy smile as if my attempt to cast her from the Commander’s court bothered her not in the slightest. “By all means, Ephor, make thy charges known so that I might answer them and put your concerns at rest. ‘Tis likely this is but a mere misunderstanding, quickly rectified.”
“That is unlikely.” I knew she held me at a disadvantage for the moment, but I hoped to regain the initiative as we moved from the preliminary skirmishing to the battle proper. However, that would require a swift and o’erwhelming strike to establish that this was no laughing matter. My initial intentions of raising the lesser of the two charges first were abandoned, and I moved directly to the true matter. “Sunbeam Sparkle, here before Commander Celestia herself and all who would bear witness to it, I do accuse ye of murder most foul. I charge that you did deliberately and with malice aforethought slay Bright Summer, a colt aged nine years at the time of his death. Do you deny it?”
As I’d hoped, bringing the formal accusation to light destroyed the light mood Sunbeam Sparkle had hoped to create in regards to my challenge. Not even one such as her could make light of the murder of a colt younger than her own daughter. Where moments before the noble courtiers and earth pony officials had hidden laughter behind upraised hooves at her wit, now they murmured ‘mongst themselves and directed wary looks towards the Archmagus.
As for Sunbeam Sparkle herself, her confident smile seemed mayhap a touch more brittle than it had been before, but far from broken. I had succeeded in striking a blow, but ‘twould take more to undo her entirely. “The charge is made, Archmagus. How do you answer it?”
Archmagus Sparkle took a deep breath and slowly nodded. “There is but one answer I can give to this charge. What you allege is true. I did slay the colt.” Once more our audience began talking ‘mongst themselves, requiring the Commander’s intervention to silence them. The grand vizier wasted no time filling the silence. “However, in your commendable haste to see justice done, ‘twould seem that you have not learned all the particulars of this case.” Her smile and tone both grew coldly condescending as she added, “Though that is perhaps understandable that you do not know the particulars, given that the entire matter was handled with utmost secrecy. Thus, you might not be aware that young Bright Summer was the son of Spellfire, a rather infamous warlock responsible for more than a dozen murders and countless acts of black magic in Trottingham.”
“What of it?” I demanded.
“Magic runs in the blood,” one of the unicorn courtiers interjected. “The colt likely would have followed in his father’s hoofsteps had he lived. The foal of a warlock will fall into darkness himself, just as the foal of an artisan is best suited to following such crafts.”
I fixed the Archmagus with a particularly baleful glare, making no attempt to hide the incredulity or contempt in my voice. “Regardless of his parentage, he was but a colt. You would truly murder a child simply for who his father was?”
“Neigh.” To my surprise, Archmagus Sparkle spared an utterly poisonous look at a courtier who had spoken on her behalf. “I would never snuff out the life of a pony simply because of their bloodline. The colt’s death was simply a matter of ill fortune of timing and placement in the matter of my confrontation with his father.”
“Do not speak as if his life was tragically snuffed out by an errant spell during a mage’s duel.” I produced the official records of the incident Gale had retrieved for me by means I thought it prudent not to question. “You snatched the child away from his mother, carved explosive runes into his flesh, and then released him in the hopes that your acts would draw his father to him.” I let out a disgusted snort. “I suppose you are proud of the fact that this scheme succeeded?”
“I cannot say I am particularly proud of it,” Archmagus Sparkle answered dispassionately. “It was early in my career as a magus. The spellwork was sloppy, and my runes were poorly hidden and barely had sufficient yield to destroy my target. Not to mention that I clearly failed to dispose of all the evidence tying the incident back to me.”
I readied myself for the Archmagus to produce some counterargument, some piece of evidence that might exonerate her, but there was nothing. She seemed fully prepared to confess to the murder, and offer no resistance to her removal. That troubled me—nothing that I had seen of Sunbeam Sparkle indicated that she would willingly accept defeat with hardly even a token effort to maintain her position.
Though I could not shake the feeling that there was something yet to be revealed in this matter, some hidden card that the grand vizier had not yet played, there was little I could do to counter her at the moment. I would simply have to continue on my current course, and hope that when she made her move I would have the needed tools to counter it. I turned to the Commander. “In light of this revelation and the Archmagus’ confession to her crime, I ask that she be stripped of her titles and placed in the dungeons until such time as a trial can be convened to decide her final disposition.”
To my immense surprise, Commander Celestia did not immediately agree. Instead she held her seat, her expression oddly subdued and her eyes not quite meeting mine. If it took so long for the truth to dawn, it was only because I found it so terrible as to be inconceivable. “You knew of this, Commander?”
“I did,” Commander Celestia confessed, her voice quiet, but firm. “Sunbeam Sparkle’s actions have been known to me since before I named her Grand Vizier. The warlock Spellfire had already claimed more than a dozen victims, and was in the midst of preparing a dark ritual involving more than two dozen blood sacrifices, several of them fillies no older than Bright Summer.”
Commander Celestia looked to her Archmagus, her expression unreadable. “I cannot condone her actions, but Sunbeam Sparkle succeeded where other magi failed and removed a grave threat to the innocent ponies of Trottingham.”
I could scarce believe my own ears. How could Commander Celestia tolerate such actions? Sunbeam Sparkle was quick to use the opportunity that the Commander created for her. “I did murder, and I’ll not deny it. But I took the life of a single child to spare the lives of more than two dozen ponies, not to mention all the victims Spellfire might have claimed had he completed his dark ritual. Is it your contention, Ephor, that Bright Summer’s life was of greater value than all those lives?” Sunbeam Sparkle’s smile turned cruel and triumphant as she delivered the finishing blow to my cause. “Mayhap I should find the ponies whose lives my actions saved, so that you may tell them that t’would have been better if they had all perished. That it would have been the moral course of action.”
Damn her. For a moment I was tempted to simply cut her down and damn the consequences. However, as discipline reasserted itself I found that I could not shake a truly uncomfortable face. I had no good answer to the Archmagus’ statement. If she had sacrificed one life to preserve many, then the ethics of the matter became far less clear. I am hard-pressed to craft a logical argument why ‘tis wrong to take one innocent life to save dozens ... yet in my heart, I cannot believe that such a thing is proper.
I was also more troubled than I would care to admit by the Commander’s stance on the matter. She might say that she did not condone Sunbeam Sparkle’s actions, but the fact that Sparkle held the posts of grand vizier and archmagus told a different tale.
With my cause now truly destroyed, the Grand Vizier took the opportunity to twist the knife. “While I could take offense at Shadow's accusation. I am both wise and magnanimous enough to understand that the Ephor was acting on incomplete information, and will not call for juris ungula . That is, if the majority opinion does not take my magnanimity as a sign of weakness or cowardice.” She directed a particularly vicious smirk towards me. “What think you, Ephor?”
It might have been wiser to simply accept that my cause had been undone, but this latest provocation made wisdom fly from my mind. I would not concede the field to her, not while I still had weapons at my disposal. If I could not persuade the Commander to set Archmagus Sparkle aside for the murder of a foal, then her lesser crimes would likely make no impression. Thus, my only hope was set aside for the moment the matter of the Archmagus’ moral unsuitability and instead focus my efforts ‘pon more practical political concerns.
“If her past crimes do not compel her removal, then mayhap her future actions will.” I began looking through my scrolls for the one I had in mind.
Sparkle unsurprisingly attempted to strike down my effort before it could even begin. “I am to be removed for crimes I’ve not even committed? This is a most curious form of justice.”
“You stand accused of no crime, Archmagus.” I located the appropriate scroll and provided it to the Commander. “However, what you intend to inflict upon Equestria is still something far too severe to be countenanced.” I could see that while I’d not yet begun to recover from the reversals Sunbeam Sparkle had inflicted upon me, I did at least have the attention of those in attendance once more. It was not all that I desired, but it was a start. “It is Sunbeam Sparkle’s intention, according to documents signed in her own hoof, to abolish earth pony democracy and the Ephorate, as well as significantly curtailing the political privileges of the Unicornian nobility.” Though I privately felt the last of those charges would serve Equestria well, I knew that it would appeal to none of the nobles in attendance.
Archmagus Sparkle directed a particularly baleful glower at me, and her voice dropped to a furious whisper. “If you gained my plans in the manner that I think you did, then be aware that I have many means at my disposal to claim recompense. Do not think I am blind to your daughter’s efforts to steal the loyalty of my own.”
I answered her in equally hushed tones. “If you so much as lay a hoof on Gale, I’ll claim your lifesblood for it.”
The Archmagus answered my threat with a pleasant smile, as if the threat against her life actually livened her mood. “Well, in that case it is clearly to both our benefits that you no longer place your daughter in positions that might require me to defend my own interests. Would you not agree?”
I had little choice but to nod and concede the matter. I would not foolishly send my daughter into the belly of the metaphorical beast. If Sunbeam Sparkle had deduced what role Gale fulfilled for me, then her usefulness as a direct agent against the Archmagus’ interests was largely at an end regardless. I am sure Gale could find ways of fulfilling her duties that did not place her near enough to the Archmagus to create the risk of retaliation.
Commander Celestia interrupted our private conversation by pointedly clearing her throat. “Sunbeam?” She waved a hoof at the documents I had provided her. “What explanation wouldst thou offer for this?”
Sunbeam directed a final smile at me, then stepped away. “I would say, Your Majesty, that there is nothing to explain. Is the document produced by the Ephor affixed with either of my seals of office? Is it an official government document at all? Even if the writing might resemble my own, is there any proof that it came from my desk? That I put those words to paper?” She turned on me with a polite smile, though I noted the vindictive fury hidden behind her eyes. “I am afraid I must ask the Ephor of this document’s provenance. How did you come to obtain it, that would make you so certain it is truly mine? What proof have you that I wrote these words?”
Curse her. “A pony of good character secured them from Archmagus Sparkle’s personal quarters.”
“Is that so? I must look to my defenses more carefully, then.” The Grand Vizier arced a single eyebrow. “I presume that this trusted source of unimpeachable character who somehow found herself breaking into my personal quarters uninvited would be willing to come before us and testify to her actions?”
There was no answer I could give to that question. Producing Gale would do little to aid my cause, especially when weighed against the cost of publicly revealing her services to me. A spy whose identity was publicly known to all and sundry would find it extremely difficult to fulfill her duties. My ears fell flat as I answered, “I cannot produce the pony who obtained these documents.”
“Well, there we have it, then.” Unfortunately, Archmagus Sparkle could not content herself with merely damaging my credibility, and chose to add an additional avenue of attack “Might I ask you, Ephor: does Pegasopolis have plans for the invasion of Griffonia? Not plans presaging an imminent strike, mind you, but simply plans for what to do if war should come?”
“We do.” I could guess well enough what she intended, but I saw no way to escape the trap as its jaws slowly closed about me.
“And what of the dragons? Changelings? Zebras? The return of the Crystal Empire?” From there the Archmagus named a dozen more possibilities.
“The Ephorate maintains plans for as many conceivable military conflicts as possible.” Now that my mind was upon the matter, it might be prudent to look into whether we had a current plan for the assassination of the Archmagus of Canterlot.
“Well,” Sunbeam Sparkle offered a patronizing smile. “Let us all be very grateful those plans have not been stolen by some reliable source, else you might be standing here in my place, accused of plotting to lead Equestria into wars of aggression.”
“It is your contention, then, that these plans are of a similar nature?” I saw a brief moment of opportunity to salvage my cause and seized upon it. “Curious, that you know these plans and their nature so well when I’ve only shown the documents to Commander Celestia herself. Very curious. The only explanation I can imagine is that you authored them. Do you admit it?”
The Archmagus’ self-assured smile slipped for the briefest of moments, and I reveled in that small victory. “I admit nothing.” A moment later she was entirely composed again, her momentary lapse already forgotten. “These documents of highly uncertain provenance simply represent somepony’s distant hopes, idle musings, or at worst a plan to be enacted if the current government should fail, not any sort of scheme on the verge of being inflicted upon ponykind unwillingly.” She turned to our small audience, a reassuring smile on her face. “Naturally, any change in the Equestrian government would only come after extensive consultation with the leadership of all three pony tribes.”
The Commander pointedly cleared her throat. “I thank thee, Shadow, for bringing these matters to my attention. I hope—” the Commander took a moment to fix me with a rather pointed look, “—that thou shalt continue to act with the best interests of Equestria foremost in thy mind.” I felt a twinge of condemnation in her words—though she did not say it aloud, I could nonetheless tell that she felt I had failed to do precisely that. To her mind, I had allowed my personal dislike of Sunbeam Sparkle to o’ertake my duties as an Ephor.
For her part, the Archmagus offered another friendly smile, as if we were two old acquaintances passing on the streets rather than bitter enemies. She struck no further blows. There was no need to.
Truly, I despised that unicorn.
Much to my displeasure, I could not return to Pegasopolis after the failure of my effort to depose Sunbeam Sparkle. However, with the Commander’s departure from Manehatten only two days away, it was expected that I remain in the city to accompany her on the journey. The flight to Cloudsdale was nothing terribly significant in and of itself, but it seemed proper that at least one Ephor remain in attendance. As I was already in Manehatten, that task naturally fell upon me.
I occupied the intervening time by practicing my bladework to hone my skills—had they been slightly sharper, ‘tis possible my kin might have shed less blood ‘gainst the griffons. At least young Nimbus would survive her wounds, though ‘twas unclear if she would survive them in any condition to resume a warrior’s duties. What time was not occupied in training, I devoted either to reading or idle diversions. Manehatten was relatively unknown to me, and I found many uses for the Warrior’s Privilege. (4) Gale remained in the city as well, which provided me with some company, at least.
4: The Warrior’s Privilege was essentially an expense account for pegasi, so they could obtain goods and services while visiting earth pony and unicorn settlements. Moneyless societies do tend to have problems when it comes to dealing with ponies who expect to get paid.
To my immense displeasure, the Commander was not content to simply arrange for carriages and directly depart for Cloudsdale. ‘Twould seem that her departure from Manehatten was an occasion, and must be celebrated with a parade of sorts. To compound my aggravation, I was expected to participate in this pageantry. I suspect Archmagus Sparkle might have arranged that—it had the smell of the sort of petty vengeance I expected from her.
The parade itself was no small event. ‘Twould seem that the earth ponies had long-standing traditions regarding how precisely the parade was to be arranged, the order and dress of the participants, and how events should unfold during its course. Naturally, everypony of significance insisted upon participating as well. This sort of production struck me as atypical of the practicality I had come associated with earth ponies—I wonder if it was a sign of unicorn social influence? Or mayhap the earth ponies simply enjoyed the opportunity to step outside of their normal modes of existence.
The procession was to begin with a number of jongleurs engaged in various displays for the enjoyment of the crowds, accompanied by acrobats and other showponies who served a similar function. Following them came a delegation from one of the more prominent farming families, bearing a number of banners displaying their family line’s proudest accomplishments... (5)
5: Shadow goes into quite a bit of detail on the specifics of the parade arrangements. While it provides a few interesting insights into earth pony social structure at the time, I have (over the strenuous objections of Twilight Sparkle) redacted that section of her memoirs because I found it incredibly dull and tedious for the casual reader. I will be doing the same thing with her orders of battle and operational orders—even though I personally found those much more interesting, one of my goals for the editing process was to make Shadow’s memoirs approachable for the casual reader.
... Finally, after the procession of the First Order of Burghers, dressed in their traditional robes of white and saffron alongside plumed hats of matching colors, came Commander Celestia and her personal retinue. I was to be included amongst their number, as I had no formal place in earth pony society. To my immense displeasure, that meant I would be in reasonably close proximity to Sunbeam Sparkle, though thankfully somepony possessed sufficient foresight to at least place us at as far a distance from each other as possible without being o’erly conspicuous about it.
Thankfully, I had at least been spared from dressing myself in the sort of preposterous outfits that so dominated the procession. ‘Twas trying enough that I must needs participate at all—to do so whilst deprived of armor and blade would be intolerable. Gale, much to my envy, was not required to march in the procession. As my daughter, she had a right to do so—young Midnight would walk at her mother’s side—but there was no requirement, so my daughter had wisely refused the offer.
The procession began simply enough; as the Commander’s party made its way out of the Chancellor’s mansion and began passing down the central thoroughfare, which would take us through the city proper before passing to the outskirts, where transport awaited us. To my distaste, the Commander had opted to take a carriage to Cloudsdale rather flying there under her own wingpower. I understand that she was accustomed to a certain level of luxury in Unicornia or ‘mongst the earth ponies, but for her be seen being carried to Cloudsdale rather than arriving under her own power would not be ideal.
Or mayhap I was simply displeased because the carriage provided room enough for several nobles, officials, and her grand vizier to accompany her. I had hoped that the visit to Cloudsdale might spare us their presence. At least my daughter would be gratified to learn that Sparkle was bringing her daughter along, even if she must now step more carefully lest she draw the Archmagus’ wrath.
Regardless, the parade began smoothly enough. Everypony remained in their assigned place and role, and the crowd cheered enthusiastically enough as the festivities proceeded. Everypony was appropriately delighted by the Commander’s presence.
But therein lay the problem: the cheering of the crowd as the Commander passed by was appropriate. What would be expected of ponies seeing Celestia herself in the flesh. It was wholly lacking in the sort of wild enthusiasm that accompanied true joy. The ponies cheered for her, but there was some other element underneath the celebrations. ‘Twas not a thing I could easily put into words, but my instincts warned me that something was amiss.
As we proceeded along the parade route, the mood of the crowd slowly grew uglier. Many ponies still cheered for the Commander, but I began to notice ponies who were conspicuous by their silence. I could hear murmuring from within the crowd, not so much distinct words as dark undercurrent hidden behind the joyful cries of patriotic earth ponies. As we continued to proceed, the mutters increased in volume and frequency.
I departed from my assigned post in the processional order and made my way as discreetly as possible to the Commander’s side. I wasted no time getting to business, but dropped my voice as low as I could whilst still being loud enough to be heard over the crowd. “Commander, something is amiss here. I think it would be wise to depart before the situation escalates.”
Commander Celestia shot a faint frown at me, and I wondered if mayhaps I had not yet been fully forgiven for my recent display ‘gainst the Archmagus. At length she answered me, “I am aware of the situation, Shadow. A hasty departure would only serve to call more attention to the matter, and quite possibly provoke the crowd. My presence serves to restrain any impulses that might otherwise move them to unwise action.”
Before I could ask to what she referred, a lone voice cried out loud enough to be heard over the crowd. “Murderer!”
“Foal-killing nag!” Another accused.
“Tyrant!” Added a third.
Those words broke what control the crowd maintained. I’d seen a similar thing ‘mongst soldiers. None wanted to be the first to break ranks or ask for terms, but once a single warrior did so, all those whose courage was already wavering would be quick to follow that example and cast their own discipline aside. In the same way, as soon as one pony dared to give voice to the cause of the crowd’s discontent, all those who had been struggling to restrain themselves cast that restraint aside.
From the cries of the crowd, ‘twas not hard to guess at the target of their ire. ‘Twould seem that while Sunbeam Sparkle had succeeded in persuading the ponies within the Commander’s office that her crimes merited no punishment, but the common pony in the streets remained unconvinced. I think it telling that the average farmer and tradespony has more good sense than those who claim posts of leadership in Unicornia and ‘mongst the earth ponies.
The situation did make me wonder at just how the common earth ponies on the street had learned of the recent charges against the Grand Vizier, however. The Commander’s private office at the Chancellor’s mansion was hardly a public venue, and I’d certainly not planned to make the Archmagus an object of public ridicule—I simply wished to remove her from a position where she could be a threat to Pegasopolis and Equestria. However, there’d been no shortage of ponies in the office, any one of whom might have been moved enough by the charges to bring them out into the court of public opinion. Mayhaps one of the earth pony politicians or unicorn courtiers might have seen an opportunity to cause Sunbeam Sparkle public embarrassment in order to undermine her and advance their own goals.
There was one other possibility which I could not ignore: Gale was naturally aware of Archmagus Sparkle’s crimes, and I certainly could not rule out that she possessed the skills needed to unleash that information to the public in a way that could bring the populace to a boil. Not to mention that she had been lingering in town, and made a point of not attending the procession herself. However, Gale would not undertake such a measure without first consulting me, and she hardly needed an ulterior motive to absent herself from a piece of pageantry that I myself would have avoided if I could.
Archmagus Sparkle did her best to ignore the jeers of the crowd, holding her head high as more and more ponies called out against her. I confess that I found it difficult not to feel a certain sense of satisfaction in witnessing the spectacle. Seeing Sunbeam Sparkle brought low, faced with the fury of the hoi ponyoi , and exposed to all for what she really was. I confess, after the failure of my efforts in court I had almost begun to wonder if Equestria had gone mad, and I was the only sane pony left who could see the Archmagus for what she truly was. I felt vindicated, seeing how hated she was by the earth ponies.
Commander Celestia did not share my feelings on the matter, gazing out at the restive crowd with a troubled frown. After taking a moment to set aside my admitted bias and consider the matter outside of the cathartic joy of seeing Sunbeam Sparkle so publicly chastised, I grasped the reason for her concern. Regardless of her or my feelings regarding Sunbeam Sparkle, the fact remained that there was a large and increasingly agitated number of ponies surrounding the Commander’s entourage. Whilst the Archmagus might be the sole target of their ire for the moment, large mobs of angry ponies are not known for being restrained, and if their fury should explode fully the results would be general chaos.
A moment later another unpleasant fact struck my mind as I spotted a smaller, dark blue filly huddling against her mother, a frightened tremble running along her spine. Whatever my feelings on Sunbeam Sparkle, they did not extend to her young daughter, and ‘twas not a kind thing to make her bear witness to this spectacle. The sight confirmed in my mind that Gale could not have had a hoof in orchestrating this demonstration—given her fondness for the filly, I could not imagine my daughter knowingly causing her such distress.
I decided upon my course. “Commander? I think it would be wise to disperse the crowd before the situation escalates any further.” ‘Twas unfortunate that I did not have a dozen good Kickers to hoof to managed the task, but between the Manehatten militiaponies serving as the Commander’s guards and the local gendarmes, (6) there were slightly over a hundred earth ponies to hoof. That would have to suffice.
6: The local earth pony law enforcement organization at the time was the Manehatten Civil Guard. As the name indicates, they were a civilian organization rather than the military gendarmerie favored by both Pegasopolis and modern Equestria. Civilian law enforcement was common amongst earth ponies and unicorns at this time.
“Commander,” I urged her when she did not immediately agree. “Give the word and I’ll put an end to this now. Better to have a few cracked skulls now than risk an all-out riot.”
“Neigh, Shadow.” I was surprised at the heat in her voice. “I will not condone violence against ponies simply for expressing their opinions. Especially not ‘mongst the earth ponies, who have long-standing customs allowing for freedom of speech and expression. As with the griffons, thou art too quick to see violence as the best solution to thy problems. We must be better than that.”
The rebuke stung me, all the moreso because it was undeserved. Did the Commander truly think me some bloodthirsty warmonger? Though in truth, there was some parallel between the two situations: with this crowd, as with the griffons, a quick and decisive application of force might be the best way to cut short any escalation of violence. Despite her words to the Griffonian Ambassador earlier, I was beginning to think that the Commander loved peace too much to see that sometimes force was a needful solution to the problems of leadership.
However, the Commander’s orders were clear, and so I reluctantly stayed my hoof even as the cries of crowd grew louder and louder. It felt wrong, to watch from the sidelines as the situation slowly deteriorated, but I did not wish to press matters with Commander Celestia any further than I already had. ‘Twas undeniable after her last remark that I was in disfavor with her, and any further urging to take action would like only result in further distancing myself from her.
Then ponies of the mob went from words to actions.
I did not see who threw the first piece of refuse. Within such a large, milling crowd ‘twas not difficult for a single pony to go unnoticed. I suppose that in the end, it mattered little.
The rotten egg shattered against a magical shield before it came within a hoof’s length of hitting the Archmagus. For a moment I dared to hope that a single egg might be the end of it—that the sight of the egg breaking harmlessly against a shield built by what was by definition the greatest living unicorn mage might deter the crowd from any further displays. What point would there be to throwing refuse at a pony who would never be struck?
However, the sight of the first failed assault only seemed to fire the passions of the crowd even further. Soon more eggs, spoiled vegetables, and even what I was reasonably certain were empty jugs of spirits all went flying towards the Archmagus, only to break upon her shield. The last of those objects worried me—there were few things more troublesome than an angry mob of ponies, but an angry and drunken mob of ponies was one.
‘Twas past time to take measures to contain the crowd. “Commander!” I urged her. “You must act!”
“Be silent, Shadow!” As I’d feared, my words had done nothing but further diminish me in the Commander’s eyes. “Sunbeam Sparkle’s shield is more than capable of weathering a few eggs and rotten tomatoes. Let the crowd have this harmless display to give vent to their anger, rather than pushing events to the point where true violence will erupt.”
“As you wish, so shall it be, Commander Celestia.” I saluted her, making a point of doing so as correctly as possible. I would not gainsay my duly appointed Commander, but there are many ways for a soldier to make her opinion known whilst remaining wholly proper and respectful. ‘Twas an irony, that Sunbeam Sparkle’s efforts to cast me from the Commander’s favor had resulted in placing me in a position where I could not take a course of action that would surely benefit her now.
I was also less than convinced that the mob’s actions were wholly harmless. While the Archmagus’ shield held the projectiles at bay easily enough, one could scarce imagine what her young daughter felt, trapped inside a magical shield as a crowd of ponies hurled abuse at her mother.
Then, as I’d feared would happen, matters escalated beyond throwing harmless refuse to something more dangerous. Some enterprising or particularly drunken and foolish pony had succeeded in prying loose a paving stone, and promptly hurled it at the object of their hatred.
While the attack might well have been lethal had it struck, the Archmagus’ shield was more than capable of withstanding the crude projectile. However, when the stone struck her shield it shattered, sending small shards of stone flying in every direction. Thankfully, most of the ponies in proximity to the Archmagus, including myself, were wearing heavy armor that easily deflected a few bits of stone.
One, however, was not.
The stone chip struck Commander Celestia ‘pon the cheekbone, coming entirely too close to her eye in the process. The resulting wound was little more than a scratch, but as wounds to the face are wont to do it bled far more fiercely than a minor, shallow cut should.
An instant later the Commander stomped a single hoof, and a shimmering golden barrier sprang up ‘tween our procession and the mob. I do not know whether she erected the barrier with the intention of blocking further attacks, or if she sought to shield her riotous citizens from the inevitable reprisal of her justifiably furious guards. Most like, she acted to fulfill both goals in a single decisive move.
Whatever the case, the crowd slowly settled into shocked silence as the ponies espied the Commander’s injury and word of what had passed spread. ‘Twould seem that the Commander had indeed found a way to quell the riot that did not involve forceful suppression or simply allowing the crowd to give vent to their fury.
After several long moments, I spoke the first words that came to my mind. “Commander, you are bleeding.” ‘Twas a foolish thing to say, but my mind seemed incapable of conjuring anything more fitting to the occasion.
“Indeed I am, Shadow.” Commander Celestia turned to me, her expression unreadable even as blood continued to trickle down her face. “Thou needs not be concerned. ‘Tis a minor wound, and one easily healed once I wish to do so.”
For a moment I wondered at why she might allow herself to continue bleeding freely, until I remembered the effect that seeing her wounded had upon the mob. A wound quickly healed and cleaned is a wound quickly forgotten. ‘Twould seem she intended to shame the crowd by forcing all to be witness to the damage their unthinking fury had wrought.
The procession passed in silence all the way to city’s outer limits, whereupon the Commander finally chose to heal her injury and remove the blood from her face. Several flight carriages were already waiting to take the Commander and those ‘mongst her retinue who cared to follow her and had gone to the effort of securing thunderforged horseshoes to Cloudsdale. To my displeasure—but not surprise—Sunbeam Sparkle was among their number.
As she was about to board the carriage, the Commander signalled for me to join her. Though I am no expert in the protocol surrounding such things, the looks I received from the other ponies made it clear she offered me a high honor. In truth I found little appeal in riding ‘pon a gilded platform, but I would not offend her by refusing. Even when I disagreed with some of her choices, she remained the Commander.
After we were underway, the Commander’s horn briefly glowed, and I felt some magical spell settle over us. Though I obviously lack the magical arts of a unicorn, I’ve always possessed a better understanding than most of basic spellcraft, and identified it as some manner of privacy spell. I turned to the Commander to await her words.
After several long moments of silence, the Commander spoke in a curiously subdued tone. “I spoke unkindly to thee, earlier. I know thee well, Shadow. I’ve known thee since long ‘ere thou wert born. Thou art not one to shed blood wantonly, and ‘twas unfitting that I should state otherwise.” She bowed her head ever so slightly to me. “Thou—You, have my deepest apologies.”
I was rather stunned at this sudden and unexpected degree of respect. Commander Celestia spoke to me not as a leader to a subordinate, but as an equal. ‘Twas most unusual, and more than a little unnerving as well. “Commander, no apology is needful. You did succeed in resolving the matter with only the barest of bloodshed.”
A hint of a smile appeared on the Commander’s face as she turned to me. “I ask two things of you, Shadow. First, that you stop being so humble and accept the apology of one who has erred. Second, that when we speak in privacy, you dispense with ceremony and simply call me Celestia.”
The latter request caught me sorely unawares. I had thought myself in her disfavor, and now she would accord me honors that were unheard of for any other pony? My surprise must have shown ‘pon my face, for the Commander let out a faintly amused sigh and waved her last words away. “I spoke too soon, ‘twould seem. Fear not, we can approach such matters gradually—we will have time enough. I would not have any unsuitable distance grow ‘tween us.”
I confess that I could hardly follow her train of thought in this, but I could glean the most important facts from her words. Commander Celestia seemed aware of my fears that I had fallen out of her favor, and intended to reassure me that such was not the case. “Thank you, Commander.”
She favored me with another smile. “You need not thank me, Shadow.” She delicately cleared her throat, and her voice regained an element of command to it that had been absent from our more private exchange. “I would ask a boon of thee, Shadow: inquire as to the wellbeing of Archmagus Sparkle and her daughter. If I were to leave this carriage and do so myself, ‘twould cause far too much disruption.”
I did not look forward to any interaction with the Archmagus, but I will confess a certain concern for her daughter, at the least. Young Midnight still unsettled me, but ‘tween my daughter’s own fondness for her and my memory of her terror at the mob, I felt it proper to at least inquire as to her health. Thus, I took wing and made my way to the aerial chariot containing Sunbeam Sparkle and her daughter.
The Archmagus appeared as proud and haughty as ever—one would scarce imagine that just a short time ago she was being pelted with refuse by a jeering mob. Her daughter, by contrast, had settled against the sides of the chariot, lying curled about herself and trembling. Sunbeam Sparkle deigned not to notice me until I cleared my throat to demand her attention. “Commander Celestia wishes to inquire as to the wellbeing of you and your daughter.”
The Archmagus made a neutral sort of noise in the back of her throat, and then without even glancing to her daughter answered. “We are well enough after such an experience.” Her eyes then narrowed, and her voice dropped down to a furious whisper. “Why does Her Majesty continue to favor you so, even after you cast defiance into her teeth?”
I could hardly answer her question when I had wondered at the Commander’s actions myself, so instead I answered her question with another. “One might as well ask why she continues to retain your services even after your wickedness has become plain for all to see.”
“A question with an easy answer,” the Archmagus scoffed. “Her Majesty is a good and noble pony, but there are times when goodness and nobility are not virtues in a ruler, but vices. There are times when one must act dishonorably, even foully, for the betterment of all ponykind. That is why she retains me. To do that which she cannot. To plunge my hooves deep into every manner of foulness needed to maintain the peace, so that she might keep hers unsullied.”
Much as I disliked her answer, I could not gainsay it. ‘Twas not dissimilar to how the clans handled disciplinary matters by having a designated disciplinary officer to serve as a focus for any antipathy from unruly soldiers, ensuring that any punishment they earned would not make them love their leaders any less. I would not be surprised to learn that in Unicornia the blame for every unpopular decision made by the Commander was laid at the grand vizier’s hooves, and every success Sunbeam Sparkle managed was credited to Celestia.
If I continued this train of thought, I might cease finding her so easy to despise. While ‘twas undeniable that she provided the Commander with some useful services, ‘twould not do to forget that she would unashamedly murder a foal to advance her cause.
I was about to return to the Commander’s side when young Midnight spoke in a voice that seemed even flatter and more emotionless than was the norm for her. “I think 'tis strange. Many name Her Majesty as like unto a goddess, but when the rock cut her she bled like an ordinary pony.”
For some reason, those words struck me as far more ominous than they seemed.
From the moment we came within sight of Cloudsdale, a sense of dread settled into my stomach.
My poor mood was no doubt exacerbated by the fact that Commander Celestia had requested that I remain in the company of Sunbeam Sparkle and her daughter. No doubt, she still hoped that the two of us might set aside our budding feud. Thankfully, Sunbeam chose to remain silent rather than o’erburden me with her company.
Upon the Commander’s arrival at Cloudsdale, we had proceeded directly to the Commander’s Residence. I could not help but note that, when compared to the Royal Palace in Canterlot or even the less ostentatious Chancellor’s Mansion in Manehatten, our residence for Commander Celestia seemed rather poor. It was not our way to indulge in needless luxury or waste space simply to make a larger domicile for our leaders. The Commander’s residence was of sufficient size to contain the Commander and those members of her staff she would need to keep close at hoof.
I also noted that several of the unicorns in the Commander’s party were glaring discontentedly at the size of the Commander’s Residence. No doubt they had imagined some preposterous palace in the clouds where they might lie about in idle luxury at the expense of other ponies. Such did seem to be the primary function of the Canterlot nobility.
It was not until young Midnight spoke that I understood that there might be another cause for their displeasure. “Why do the other pegasi have grander palaces than Her Majesty?”
I needed a moment to grasp the true meaning behind Midnight’s question, perhaps because I simply did not grasp how anypony could fail to notice the difference between a clanhold and a palace. I took action to correct the young filly’s misconception. “Those are not palaces, those are the holds of the great clans of Pegasopolis. They are larger than the Commander’s Residence because hundreds or thousands of ponies live there, whilst one only dwells within the Commander’s Residence.”
“But that one pony is the Queen.” Midnight gazed up at me, and slowly blinked. “Why do the clans think themselves so far above her?”
“We do not.” The very implication of such a thing offended me, though I tried not to show it. ‘Twas only natural that young Midnight would not grasp our ways. “There is no arrogance to it, ‘tis simply a matter of practicality. One pony requires far less space than hundreds. If we were to make the Commander’s residence larger than any of the clanholds the vast bulk of it would simply be empty, wasted space.”
“But then how will everypony know that she stands above them in the social hierarchy?” Midnight turned upon me with a confused frown. “Is it not traditional that those of higher social rank display such through the size and grandeur of their homes? If not, then why do the great clans have larger holds than the small ones?”
“We have larger clanholds because there are more ponies in our clans,” I answered her simply.
“And is not the size of your clans a clear indication of their power?” Midnight deftly countered. “And as such, having a larger clanhold than the Commander’s Residence clearly indicates that the clans view themselves as being more powerful than the Commander?”
“That is not the way of it.” I struggled to find a way to explain the subtleties of pegasus culture to a mere filly. “There are nuances of meaning which...”
After a few seconds of pained silence, Sunbeam finally entered the conversation. “So, ‘twould seem that the great Ephors of Pegasopolis can be outmaneuvered by a mere filly. Mayhaps I should allow my daughter to sit in your councils, that she might offer the benefits of her superior intellect.”
As often occurs when I am forced to converse with the Archmagus of Canterlot, I felt a sudden urge to test the keenness of my wingblades in a manner which the Commander would not approve of. Thankfully, we arrived at the Residence proper before I found myself forced to endure enough of her company to drive me beyond all reason.
We were met at the Residence by my fellow ephors, as well as all the Gerousia, including my father and the venerable Dawnburst Charger. As the Commander exited her chariot, her new hetairoi (1) formed ranks around her. I was pleased to see that Gale was amongst their number, bearing the traditional black armor of the hetairoi . Such a prestigious position was only fitting for my daughter, and it would also leave her ideally placed to keep me informed of all that passed within the Commander’s Residence during her stay in Pegasopolis.
1: The ceremonial bodyguard for the Commander of Pegasopolis, traditionally composed of the Commander’s personal friends and comrades-in-arms, or young soldiers in whom the Commander sees great potential. Celestia’s long absence from Pegasopolis resulted in the hetairoi being effectively disbanded—though Shadow does not explain how the new hetairoi were so quickly assembled, the most likely explanation is that Celestia simply chose suitable ponies from the prominent clans.
Archmagus Sparkle looked at the assembled collection of ponies, and let out a faintly annoyed sniff. “I would have thought that even the pegasi could arrange with a bit more pomp for Her Majesty’s arrival in Cloudsdale.”
I could not resist the opportunity to land a barb. “If that is your wish, Archmagus, then I am certain we could arrange a parade for your arrival which would easily exceed that which the earth ponies gave you ‘pon your departure from Manehatten.” That had the gratifying effect of silencing her entirely, though I regretted the words when I noted a haunted look in young Midnight’s eyes. I reluctantly dipped my head. “My apologies, that was an unworthy remark.” The fact that it was made to a pony who wholly deserved to be scorned did not make it any more acceptable.
“Think nothing of it,” Sunbeam answered airily. “If we were to apologize for every insensitive remark we made, we would find ourselves occupied for several days.”
She stepped out of the carriage, experimentally testing her balance on the clouds with her thunderforged horseshoes. “A most curious sensation indeed.” I confess that one of the less mature portions of my mind was briefly tempted to push her over so that her body would lie upside-down within the clouds, supported only by her horseshoes. Thankfully, I resisted such an impulse.
All proceeded into the Commander’s Residence, and the large formal dining hall within. ‘Twould seem that my fellow Ephors thought it best to welcome the Commander to Pegasopolis with a formal meal. Thankfully, the Commander’s dining hall had sufficient space to accommodate all the ponies who wished to attend the meal. A substantial portion of the Commander’s Residence was in fact devoted to precisely that. ‘Twas tradition that the Commander break bread alongside the soldiers of Pegasopolis. Swift Blade and I had already arranged to rotate units into the dining halls for each meal during the Commander’s visit. If all went according to plan—a sadly rare state of affairs—the Commander would have the privilege of dining with every pony of officer rank in Pegasopolis, and a substantial number of the common soldiers as well, before her return to Canterlot.
We had not even properly begun the meal before the first dispute arose. The act of eating is, in my opinion, something that should not be spoiled by the inclusion of politics. Sadly, it seems that I was alone in that opinion.
Several of the unicorns accompanying Commander Celestia were less than pleased with the current seating arrangements, of all things. It seemed a foolish thing to concern themselves over—while I was vaguely aware of Unicornia possessing their own seating customs, they were now in Pegasopolis, and ‘twas only to be expected that they would abide by our rules. The Commander would dine with her hetairoi , while the remaining tables would be organized by clan. The unicorns, not having any clan to dine with, would naturally be seated off to the side at a table of their own.
Voices were raised, chests were puffed out, and self-important declarations abounded on all sides. Eventually, Commander Celestia herself intervened, and gently put an end to the foolishness. She would remain seated with her hetairoi as a Commander should, but would allow the unicorns accompanying her to take places of honor at the various clan tables.
At first I thought this a reasonable enough compromise, though I did not relish the prospect of dining alongside a pampered unicorn noble. Then I espied the Commander speaking with Sunbeam Sparkle, and her eyes flicked over to my table.
No. She would not. Surely she would not...
She did.
There are times when the Commander has a most cruel sense of humor.
I suppose I could at least take some small consolation in the fact that my daughter dined at the Commander’s right hoof. However, my daughter’s place of honor would prove to be a small comfort if I had to endure Sunbeam Sparkle or some other noble dining alongside me as part of the exchange. Not even my father’s presence at my side could offset such unpleasant company.
For once, ‘twould seem the Archmagus and I were in agreement, as she clearly relished the thought of dining alongside me no more than I was pleased by her presence at my table. I was sorely tempted to make my objections known, but such a course would be unlikely to accomplish my goal. ‘Twas the Commander’s wish that Sunbeam Sparkle dine at my table, and I would not jeopardize the regard she seemed to have for me over such a relatively minor affair.
I suspect many of my fellow pegasi were no more enthusiastic at the prospect of dining with unicorns than I, for the Commander took it upon herself to say a few words. “I think it fitting, on a momentous occasion such as this, to celebrate the unity of Equestria through a gesture of hospitality. On this night, let us all dine together not as dukes, nobles, ephors, and geronts, but as ponies.”
My ire grew at that. ‘Twas offensive enough that I must dine with the Archmagus, but now I was expected to offer her hospitality as well? (2) Though perhaps this was her latest stratagem to put an end to the conflict between the Archmagus and I.
2: Hospitality in Pegasopolan culture was an extremely important social custom, incurring a number of duties between host and guest. Any violation of the rules of hospitality was an extreme social offense. The rules of hospitality would force an effective truce between Shadow and Sunbeam, and additionally require that they treat each other with the utmost respect for as long as Sunbeam was considered Shadow’s guest.
The Archmagus and her daughter approached our table but did not yet seat themselves, awaiting a formal invitation to do so. I was reluctant to fulfill the role of good hostess, but thankfully Father was at hoof to make good any lapse in decorum on my part. “Archmagus Sparkle, please grace me and my clan with the honor of having you as a guest at our table.” A wry smile crossed his face as he added. “You will, I hope, forgive me for not seeing to your place at the table personally.” He waved a hoof across his own milky-white eyes. “I am afraid such considerations are quite beyond me now. Please, take a place of honor by my daughter’s side.”
And now Father moved the Archmagus towards me along with the Commander. ‘Twas enough to make me wonder if there was some terrible conspiracy to force the two of us to endure each other’s company. Be this some manner of retribution for a sin I unwittingly committed?
“I thank you for your generosity, and shall endeavor to be a worthy guest at your table.” The Archmagus offered a tantalizing smile that was completely wasted on my father. Even when his eyes still functioned, he had never shown any interest in the company of mares.
Upon grasping the evident issues in flirting with my father, she promptly shifted her attention to me. I made a point of ignoring her efforts. I was quite certain that by this point she only made such gestures towards me because she took perverse pleasure in how such advances offended my sensibilities. Unlike Father, I’ve a certain level of interest in mares, but I prefer ones who are less vile and duplicitous than the reivers I had recently put down.
Thankfully, Father seemed content for the moment to take up the burden of speaking with Archmagus Sparkle, freeing me from any need to acknowledge her existence. Instead, I found mine eye drawn to her daughter, who was currently poking at the table and reshaping it to the best of her ability. Without the natural skills of a pegasus or any advanced magic, she could do little more than crude manipulation by poking the cloud with her shoes. Her persistence ultimately bore fruit in the form of several crude figures that appeared to be earth ponies.
I was about to offer a few words of praise for her efforts when her normally impassive face twisted in a sudden and hateful snarl as she smashed the model earth ponies beneath her hooves. While I am no scholar of the mind’s workings, that did not strike me as terribly healthy behavior. ‘Twould seem her experience in Manehatten had left some scars on young Midnight’s psyche.
Were her mother anypony else, I might have taken her aside and counseled her on the matter. However, Sunbeam Sparkle had not shown any great concern for her daughter’s well-being. She certainly seemed to be paying the filly’s current display no mind.
Any further unpleasantness was prevented by the arrival of our food. Compared to the culinary crafts of the unicorns or the richer meals of the earth ponies, pegasi cuisine has always been less sophisticated. ‘Tis an inevitable result of dwelling within the clouds. Every single food item must be brought up from the ground, from simple vegetables to exotic spices, and then there are the inevitable complications of storing food (3). The Ephorate was also quick to sacrifice certain luxuries of taste when negotiating the needs of Pegasopolis; better to have plain food than a lack of weapons and armor.
3: Storing large quantities of food cloudside is difficult, due to the issues of gravity and moisture. For that reason, most of the food supplies for Cloudsdale and other Pegasopolan cities were stored in large groundside granaries. Those logistical issues probably contributed to Pegasopolis’ social customs that favored large communal meals. It was far simpler from an organizational standpoint to have a few large meals than to portion out foodstuffs to every individual pony.
For the occasion, the chefs had prepared a hearty vegetable stew. Stews were a common feature of our own cuisine, given that the one element of cooking we possessed in abundance was water. My first sampling of it confirmed that it was as unadorned as our cooking usually is. I found it quite agreeable—the relative lack of seasoning and embellishment allowed me to simply enjoy the flavor of the vegetables themselves. However, I suspected that the refined palates of our guests would not care for such simple but enjoyable food.
To my vague disappointment, Sunbeam Sparkle showed no reaction upon first tasting her food, simply continuing to politely consume it as if it were any other meal. Pity, I had hoped that she might cause a scene and make a fool of herself in front of the Commander.
However, while the Archmagus proved far more composed than I had hoped, there were other unicorn nobles who proved quite willing to display a general lack of basic civility. A particularly haughty-looking white unicorn pointedly swatted his bowl of stew aside, upending its contents into the clouds. “This is servants’ food!” Though I did not recall the name of the noble at the time, I vaguely recognized him as the one who had remarked that Sunbeam’s foal-murder was fully justified due to the child’s tainted bloodline.
Sunbeam Sparkle spared a disdainful glance for her fellow unicorn. “And once more, Duke Polaris shows the grace, sophistication, and impeccable manners of the unicorn race.”
“I take it he is not your ally?” If Archmagus Sparkle had enemies, it might prove worthwhile to learn more of them. While I had little use for a pony who by all appearances displayed the worst traits of the unicorn nobility, we did share a common enemy. Prudence dictated that I at least consider the possibility of pursuing some level of cooperation in fulfilling our mutual interests.
“He is not,” the Archmagus confirmed. “He strongly opposed my appointment as both Archmagus of Canterlot and as the Grand Vizier of Unicornia.” She let out a disdainful snort. “Duke Polaris places far too much importance upon matters of breeding and bloodline, and far too little upon actual competency. He finds the idea that anypony who is not of the nobility might hold a position of importance in Unicornian society ... distasteful.”
While this confirmed that I would not wish to make common cause with this Duke Polaris, save at the utmost necessity, she revealed one intriguing piece of information. “You are not of the nobility?”
An amused smile crossed her face. “Ah, have I ruined your preconceptions of me? Does it spoil your image of who I am, to know that I was born in the simple home of a mere glassblower rather than a fine palace? That I have fought and struggled for every scrap of privilege I now hold, rather than simply being born with a silver spoon in my mouth?” (4)
4: Records indicate that the Sparkles were a reasonably prominent crafting family in Canterlot prior to Sunbeam’s meteoric rise through Unicornian politics. A master craftsmare could live quite comfortably, but they were still fairly low on the social totem pole . The relatively minor House Lulamoon held the glass manufacturing license at the time, thus making the Sparkles their employees. In the antebellum era, it was incredibly unusual for a nominal servant of a minor house like Sunbeam to have power over the heads of major houses, such as Duke Polaris.
Curiously, my first thought in reaction to this particular revelation was that it explained her tolerance for the less refined cuisine of Pegasopolis. The mind can work in mysterious ways.
The Archmagus’ smile turned mocking as she turned to my father. “Sir, I am certain that when you raised your daughter, you saw to it that she wanted for nothing, and had every opportunity to reach her full potential. Is that not so?”
“It is,” Father confirmed. “What parent would do otherwise?”
“One whose resources were too limited to allow for such, I would imagine,” Sunbeam Sparkle answered him. “For all the talk of how Pegasopolis chooses leaders solely on the basis of merit, I note that all of the current ephors are the children of great clans, and most of them boast ephors, geronts, and other high officials within their immediate family. Upon your own retirement, Shadow all but inherited your office, is that not so?”
“I abstained from voting on the matter,” Father answered tersely. “My fellow Ephors felt her to be the best choice of the available candidates. I will thank you not to question her ability, or my own judgment while you are a guest at our table.”
“I apologize, if my words gave offense. Such was not my intention.” Sunbeam dipped her head in a wasted gesture of humility. “I merely sought to engage in a philosophical discussion of differing systems of government and society, not to question your daughter’s competence.” She gave me an insincere smile as continued. “By all reports, she slaughtered the griffons most effectively. However, I cannot help but wonder if your own position as an ephor and paterfamilias of a major clan allowed her opportunities to hone her skills which other ponies did not enjoy.”
Much as I would have enjoyed proving her wrong, in truth I could not argue the point. Father saw to my education in both physical and mental aspects of warfare, and I have done much the same with Gale in turn. ‘Tis only natural that a parent equip their child for success in later life. ‘Twas hard to dispute that an Ephor and clan leader could offer their children more opportunities than an ordinary warrior.
However, the very matter of my daughter also showed the flaw in Sunbeam’s reasoning. One I was quick to point out. “It is true that many privileges come to the children of clan leaders.” The Archmagus turned to face me, a polite smile on her face as she listened. “However, we do not coddle our foals—if I received a superior education, it is only because I showed superior ability. And when ponies who show potential for greatness are found outside the clans, such as my own daughter, we are quick to bring them into the fold and offer them the opportunity to reach their full potential.” I fell silent for a moment to confirm my thoughts before stating my conclusion. “While ‘tis true that Pegasopolis is imperfect, ‘tis a far superior system to all alternatives I have seen.”
“Does not everypony think that of their homeland?” Sunbeam Sparkle countered. “And I might also point out that your entire society is incomplete. As with the other pony tribes, you are but parts of a greater whole. Without earth pony and unicorn support, Pegasopolis would not be viable.”
“One could say much the same of Unicornia as well,” I grumbled, returning to my stew so that I would not be required to answer her further.
“Indeed,” the Archmagus conceded. “Which is why it is my desire to make Equestria a single unified whole, rather than three incomplete parts.”
And I am sure the fact that doing so would substantially increase her own personal power had no bearing in her thoughts. Still, the revelation regarding the status of her birth was intriguing. Though it did not diminish my distaste for her as a pony, ‘twas difficult not to respect the qualities needed for a pony of common birth to rise to such heights in Unicornia.
Any further discussion on matters of government and society was forestalled when I noted the ancient Dawnburst Charger approaching Commander Celestia’s table, as always leaning heavily on his granddaughter for support. “Commander, I would ask something of you.” Despite his advanced age, Dawnburst’s voice was still deep and strong, though he spoke with the sort of careful deliberation that marked a mind which was on the verge of slowing.
The Commander favored him with a gentle smile. “Ask, Dawnburst.”
“I have heard rumors that trouble me.” The ancient geront paused for a bit to gather his thoughts, then continued. “It is said that the government of Pegasopolis no longer enjoys your trust or approval. I would ask you whether this is true.”
The question unsettled me, but I suppose it was not surprising that there would be such concerns. The Commander’s disapproval of our actions in Griffonia was no secret. That is not to mention other matters, such as the Clipping investigations that were soon to occupy my time now that Sunbeam Sparkle had arrived in Cloudsdale.
The Commander took a long moment to consider her answer, then replied, “I have every confidence in the Ephorate and Gerousia’s continued ability to govern Pegasopolis.” She delicately cleared her throat, and her voice shifted to a lighter, almost playful tone. “Now, let us speak of happier affairs. Neigh, let us not speak at all. The stew is done, and ‘tis time we moved to the best part of any meal: dessert. Your Commander wishes to feast upon cake until she can stomach no more.”
A painful silence descended over the hall. Even if we had the needed materials, baking is all but impossible with traditional pegasi cooking methods.
Commander Celestia’s face slowly fell as realization struck. “Ah. So be it. ‘Twould seem that certain adjustments will be required during my stay here.”
Swift Blade came to my clanhold the morning after the rather disastrous welcoming feast for Commander Celestia. His business was an easy enough matter to foresee: with Sunbeam’s investigation into Clippings set to begin, it was only natural that he would come to me to discuss the matter. Though he had taken the burden of organizing the investigation off of my hooves while other matters demanded my attention, the responsibility had been given to me by the Commander, and if aught went amiss I would share responsibility for the failure.
‘Twas a curious thing, but my clanhold felt oddly empty with my daughter absent whilst she attended to her new duties as hetairoi to the Commander. Though her absence was but temporary, I found myself noting it all the more. I have grown used to my daughter’s presence at my side.
I met my fellow ephor in the mess hall as we both broke our fast. Though a meeting between two ephors would naturally draw some level of idle curiosity, my clanmates gave us a respectful distance to conduct our conversation undisturbed. His drooped wings, troubled frown, and the way he barely nibbled at his own meal all forewarned me that this meeting was unlikely to be an enjoyable one. His words were quick to confirm my fears.“Ephor Kicker, I am most concerned about the course of this investigation the Commander has ordered.”
“Might you elaborate as to what those concerns are?” I took a bite of my own haybacon-and-cheese omelette. “I presume there are troubles beyond the obvious, such as having a self-confessed unicorn foalslayer interfering in Pegasopolan affairs and presuming to condemn us for mistreatment of foals.”
“Indeed there are.” Swift poked at his own omelette a few times before he continued. “The Archmagus is bringing in numerous Unicornian investigators to oversee the matter, rather than leaving things in our capable hooves. She claims that there is a culture of corruption in Pegasopolis regarding the matter of Clippings, and that only outsiders might properly investigate this issue.”
Much as I would have liked to agree with my fellow ephor, my mind went back to Gale’s story of her time in the Patrol. Though I am loathe to admit it, there might be some validity to the Archmagus’ position. If nothing else, the simple fact that I and every other pegasus in Cloudsdale believed this investigation to be a waste of time and effort that would produce no results showed that we were less than ideal choices for the matter. Would I do my utmost to uncover a truth I did not wish to face? I should like to think that I would, but ponies have been known to shy away from unpleasant truths, especially those that are not flattering to themselves and their societies.
I answered with careful deliberation. “Let her investigate however she pleases, save that she does not fabricate evidence or falsify charges. I would not have it said that we made efforts to impede her investigation because we feared what it might reveal.”
I did not speak the other half of my thoughts—that if there was anything to discover, I would rather see it dragged into the light of truth than hidden to preserve the good name of Pegasopolis. Concealing the crime might save our reputation in the short term, but it would ultimately do far more lasting damage to Pegasopolis. The acts of a few fools and deviants are one matter; ‘tis quite another when society and ponies of power are complicit in such acts. In concealing the crime, we would sully ourselves as badly as those who committed it.
“She has created a self-fulfilling prophecy,” Swift Blade opined. “By removing the gendarmes from the process and showing her lack of regard for them, she has all but ensured that they will not put forth their utmost effort.”
“Then we must do all that is within our power to ensure that the ponies under our command do not play into her hooves.” I occupied myself with my meal as I strategized. “It is no doubt her intention to use any perceived lack of cooperation from the Pegasopolan government to create a rift between the Ephorate and the Commander. Her ambition is such that she’ll not be content with anything less than the absolute control of all Equestria, by virtue of being the only pony in whom the Commander holds any confidence.”
“On that, we are in agreement.” Swift turned to his own meal, his appetite seemingly restored. “If she would seek to make us seem uncooperative, then let us make it clear that the Commander shall have our full cooperation on this matter. Steel Striker has already opened his clanhold to inspection, and I think ‘twould be wise for the other ephors to follow his example. Let us show all Equestria that we have nothing to hide.”
I gave a sharp nod. “I think that a wise response. You will inform the other ephors of our agreement on this matter?”
“I will.” Swift Blade finished the last of his omelette. “With myself, you, and Steel already pursuing this course, I cannot imagine Rightly and Bright will not move in step with us. If the Archmagus of Canterlot would sever us from Commander Celestia, let us show our loyalty to her is unshaken despite Sunbeam Sparkle’s manipulations.” Swift then fell silent, his determined grimace slowly fading into a troubled frown. “Though I do wonder ... why does the Commander continue to retain her services? ‘Tis obvious to all with eyes that Sunbeam Sparkle is naught but a schemer and a villain. Why is it that the Commander holds her in high regard, whilst her faithful subordinates must prove themselves to her?”
“You are not the only one who is troubled by that matter,” I confessed to him. “However, I am certain that the Commander has her reasons for acting as she does. We must have faith in her.”
“I confess that my faith is shaken.” Swift heaved out a sigh. “It is a troubling thing, when I can read of the reign of any previous Commander and find the current one wanting by comparison.”
“Mind your words, Swift Blade!” I was somewhat surprised at just how heated my tone was, and took measures to moderate it before I continued. “While Commander Celestia is imperfect, everything she has done, every action she takes, is for the ultimate good of Pegasopolis and all Equestria. Better by far to have a Commander who aspires to make a better world, and stumbles when walking that path.”
Swift let out a skeptical grunt. “High ideals are all well and good, but ‘tis growing harder and harder to overlook the more practical problems that beset us.”
It was sorely troubling, to hear one of my fellow ephors speaking of Commander Celestia so. “Let us be done with this. The sooner this matter of Clippings is resolved, the sooner we can all return things to their proper order”
Swift Blade looked at me askance. “Do you truly believe all these troubles will end when we resolve the matter of Clippings?”
I knew the answer to that, but I could not bring myself to say it.
Two days later, the inspection of the Kicker Clanhold began.
The clan was under strict orders to go about their daily business as if nothing unusual were occurring. I did not wish to make a production of this—best for all concerned if the inspectors arrived, completed their appointed task swiftly, and went on about their business. While I might have harbored some small fears that there were Clippings to be found somewhere in Pegasopolis, I knew with absolute certainty that there had been none within my own clan.
I met the inspectors at the entrance to the clanhold, accompanied by my father. The party consisted of three unicorns, along with a single pegasus gendarme who seemed mildly ashamed to be seen associating with the unicorns.
The apparent leader of the trio was white of coat and broad in the chest and shoulders; one of the better-built unicorn stallions I’d seen. The stallion carried himself like one who was accustomed to battle. That was an intelligent move of the Archmagus’ part—most pegasi would have more respect for a proper soldier than for mere functionaries. He offered a salute to my father and myself once he stood before us. “Ephor, Geront. I am Sir Radiant Day of the Order of the Unconquerable Sun, and I will be conducting the inspection of your clanhold.”
I returned his salute. “I am Shadow of the Ephorate, and this is my father, Cyclone of the Gerousia.” There was little point in wasting the breath of speaking our clan names. “Might I know the rest of your party?” I saw no reason not to address him formally—if nothing else, he had shown me and my father sufficient respect to have earned it in turn.
“It would be my pleasure to introduce them, ephor.” He turned to the mare of his trio, whose dull greyish-brown coat gave her an unseemly air. “This is Inspector-Sergeant First Glance of the Canterlot Royal Police.” The mare offered us a curt nod, but offered no further acknowledgement.
Radiant Day turned to the other stallion in his group, who was not of anywhere near the same physical stature as his commanding officer. “And this is Detective Gentle Heart, also of the Canterlot Royal Police, a specialist in foal cases.” The detective stepped forward and offered his hoof, only to drop it a moment later with a sheepish chuckle.
Radiant Day did not introduce the gendarme accompanying them, who had already begun to move off to side in effort to distance himself from the unicorns. Clearly Swift Blade’s fears that the gendarmerie would be less than cooperative in this investigation were well-founded. While the gendarmes would not outright disobey their orders to assist in the investigation, there are many ways for a soldier to display their discontent. I turned to Radiant Day. “I presume the gendarme’s orders were to escort you to my clan’s compound?”
“Indeed.” A slight frown crossed the unicorn knight’s face. “And ‘twould seem that those orders have been fulfilled to the letter.” That was an old device of the discontented soldier—to fulfill an order in its most literal meaning whilst exerting the barest of efforts needed to do so, and showing none of the initiative or good judgment that makes a true soldier superior to a mere golem.
I was tempted to pursue the departing soldier and have words with him about his less-than-sincere effort to do his duty. There would be little point to the exercise, though. What could I do, other than order him to cease his malingering? The true cause of his discontent, the presence of the Unicornian officials, lay beyond my power to control. Even if I could browbeat a single soldier into exerting his utmost efforts, it would only be a single gendarme out of the dozens assigned to assist in the investigation. It would have no more effect than dispersing a single cloud in the midst of a thunderstorm.
“Well,” Father spoke up, stirring me out of my thoughts. “Shall we proceed with this?”
“Yes, let us be done with it.” The gendarme’s departure had soured my mood considerably, and despite my best efforts to conceal it, some of my discontent showed in my tone. I took a breath and tried to calm my ire at circumstances beyond my power to influence, then turned to the inspectors. “There is much to do, and little time to see it done. I am certain you have many other tasks yet undone, so I’ll not occupy more of your time than needed to complete this inspection.”
“Nor will we occupy more of your own time than we require, Ephor,” Radiant Day answered me.
At that statement, First Glance gave a perturbed snort. “We’ll not take more time than is needful, but neither shall we be lax in our efforts.”
“Naturally.” Radiant Day spared an aggrieved look for his subordinate. I suspect that he might have been experiencing some difficulty in his command. While placing a warrior in charge of the inspection team was a prudent measure for ensuring a level of respect between the teams and the pegasi, it created internal problems. The unicorns traditionally left law enforcement in civilian hooves rather than simply including those functions within the purview of the military. Pegasopolis’ own gendarmes would chafe at being under the command of officers from other branches—how much more would these civilian law enforcement officials resent being under military command?
However, such concerns were a matter for Radiant Day and his temporary subordinates to resolve amongst themselves. It was none of my affair, and any action I might attempt to take on the matter would only serve to call attention to that very rift. Best then to simply let it go unremarked.
Father chose that moment to offer his own thoughts, with his usual level of diplomacy and tact. “Might I ask how this whole affair is to proceed? Will the three of you simply go about the compound, ensuring that all our young do, in fact, still retain the use of their wings?”
There are times when I suspect that Father enjoys the privileges that accompany old age and disability far more than he should. As a warrior, he had been required to mind his words, lest he give offense and find himself challenged to juris ungula . Now, as a geront and blind pony both, he could speak his mind without fear of retaliation. None but the most dishonorable would dare to raise a hoof against him. ‘Twas one of the most important functions of Gerousia—the right to speak those truths many find uncomfortable or even offensive without facing the threat of juris ungula .
An ephor, by contrast, needed to remain mindful of juris at all times. ‘Twould be far too easy for my words to give grave offense to somepony, and not all of those challenges could be ignored. Were Sunbeam Sparkle of Pegasopolis, we likely already would have come to blows over our disagreement. As it was, the Commander’s clear disapproval of the conflict and our own uncertainty as to who would prove the ultimate victor in such a clash stayed our hooves.
Radiant Day politely cleared his throat. “We had thought to begin with an inspection of your clan’s training facilities and methods. As this whole Clipping business is said to stem from ponies showing inadequacies during their training periods, it seems a reasonable enough place to begin. Afterwards, I would like to see the clan’s medical records, so that we might speak with any ponies who’ve suffered crippling injuries to their wings.”
First Glance nodded, pursing her lips. “While I suspect the vast bulk of them will be naught but normal injuries sustained in the line of duty, ‘tis standard procedure to speak with any potential victim. I’ll not leave any stone unturned in this investigation.”
“If I might, I would also like to speak with the clan’s foals,” Gentle Heart added. “Just a few simple questions, to confirm that there is nothing amiss.”
While this whole proceeding still displeased me, it seemed that at the least ‘twould be over quickly and without undue difficulty. The only potential point of conflict lay in the possibility that some of my clan’s young or crippled might speak some falsehood simply for the attention and notoriety that such a claim would bring. I did not think such a thing likely, however—Clan Kicker is far too disciplined to engage in such foolishness.
“Let us be done with it, then.” The words came out harsher and more dismissive than I’d intended, so I took a moment to attempt to moderate my tone. “The sooner we begin, the sooner we can finish, and you can move to more productive uses of your time.” ‘Twould seem my efforts at moderation had been less than wholly successful. ”I apologize for my tone, inspectors. Times have been most trying, of late.”
“It is quite understandable, Ephor.” His magnanimity only increased my opinion of Radiant Day. “These times have not been easy for any. We shall endeavour to see this matter concluded a swiftly as can be done without compromising the integrity of our investigation.”
“You have my thanks.” I offered them a slight nod. “Onward, then.”
I led them first to our training yards. More than two dozen colts and fillies of an age suitable to receiving proper instruction were in the midst of their exercises. (5) Half the foals were at practice against training dummies, while several others were working their way through a series of basic wing-blade maneuvers. A final trio of the youngest ponies stood off to the side, trying their hooves at various weapons to find whichever suited them best.
5: Formal military training in Pegasopolis began at the age of seven . However, it was fairly common for informal instruction to start even earlier, though that was usually little more than laying a foundation and training the young colts and fillies how to avoid hurting themselves while attempting to imitate their elders.
Stalwart was in the midst of practicing his true vocation. While he was a most effective sergeant and leader of ponies in battle, his greatest talent lay in the instruction of others. Many a common soldier or young officer had benefited greatly from his tutelage. Given the nature of the upcoming inspection, I had set him to the training of our young today, which he undertook with his usual effectiveness.
He was not alone in his task of watching over the rambunctious young colts and fillies—I’d set Nimbus to the task of aiding him whilst she recovered from the wounds she’d suffered at the talons of the griffons. ‘Twould allow her a useful way to occupy her time until she was ready to return to active duty, though I’ll confess that I had an ulterior motive: I’d seen a spark of potential in her in the battle at Lubeak, and there were few ponies better suited than Stalwart to bring a pony to the fullest extent of their natural talent. If I could make some use of her beyond that of a mere soldier, ‘twould be thanks in no small part to the efforts of Sergeant Stalwart.
Radiant Day and his two companions began their inspection by holding a brief conversation with Nimbus. After a few pleasantries, First Glance and Gentle Heart moved on to look to other aspects of our facilities, but I noted that Radiant lingered near Nimbus’ side, and the two would periodically exchange words as he went about his business. I noted that they were both of an age that was old enough to leave them mindful of duty, but desirous of the company of an attractive pony of similar age and appearance. Perhaps some good would come of this after all.
Whilst the inspectors looked over the facilities and my kinsmare, I sought out the sergeant. Stalwart was in the midst of helping a filly in her early teens with her stance, until I interrupted the exercise to have words with him. “How does the training progress? Will our new recruits be ready?”
“They will, m’lady.” The sergeant did not even turn his attention from his young charge as he answered me. “The current generation seems passable enough.” He paused to deliver a slight frown to his current student. “Or at least, they will be if Strata here can learn how to hold a proper defensive stance. Otherwise, they are like to die in their first battle.”
Strata met the sergeant’s grumbling with a resentful glower and the sort of obstinate stubbornness and absolute certainty in her own rightness that is all too common with ponies in their adolescence. “My stance is perfectly acceptable, ‘tis only your pedantry that finds fault in it.”
“Thou thinkest that I quibble over details of no consequence, then?” A smirk crossed the sergeant’s face. “Well, let us put the matter to the test, then. Take thy stance in whatever manner pleases thee.”
Strata did so, and I noted that her wings were too far back, and her head too high. If an opponent struck at her, it would be most difficult for her to block the incoming blow before it landed.
The sergeant seemed to share my assessment of her stance. “Thou art prepared, then?”
She nodded, and a second later Stalwart’s hoof caught her across muzzle. The teenager let out an indignant shout, and immediately swung at the sergeant to return the blow. Stalwart, whose combat stance was above repute, easily caught the blow and countered with a sharp jab to the snout. Strata’s eyes crossed from the force of the blow, and she fell to the clouds.
The sergeant let her lie for a few moments to ensure that his lesson had been fully absorbed, and then offered her a hoof up. The trainee took a few moments to wipe her bloodied muzzle and attempt to salvage whatever shreds of tattered dignity she could, then accepted the offer. “My stance still feels better than the way you instruct.” While her words were defiant, her subdued tone and the slump of her shoulders made it clear this was simply a last gesture of pride rather than a true effort to argue the matter any further.
“What feels right is often a poor substitute for what is right,” The sergeant answered her. “In any case, one of the goals of my instruction is to train you to the point that the proper way of doing things is what feels right to you. Now then, let us—”
Whatever the sergeant had intended to say next was lost as one of the inspectors approached us at a rapid trot. Gentle Heart took one look at the filly’s bloodied muzzle, and shot an absolutely furious glare at the sergeant. “Is it the custom of Clan Kicker to beat their children?”
“A beating?” The sergeant offered a bemused look at the indignant stallion, his voice laced with equal parts confusion and incredulity. “That was no beating, merely an object lesson in physical combat. Some younglings will not learn until they’ve acquired a few bumps and bruises.”
“Is that your position, then?” The unicorn let a righteously indignant snort and pulled out a silk kerchief which he put to use cleaning the filly’s bloodied muzzle. “You claim that you beat the girl for her own edification? How far would you go in that? There is a point where it ceases being instruction and becomes nothing more than abuse.”
“Abuse?” Now ‘twas Stalwart’s turn to grow indignant. “Now see here, sir, I’m well aware of precisely how much force to use when striking a child so that the lesson is imparted without inflicting any true harm.”
Strata seemed to recover from her surprise at the situation, and began attempting to ward off the unicorn attempting to play nursemaid to her. “The sergeant is correct. I’m quite unharmed.” A fresh bit of blood dribbling from her nose showed that her assessment was not entirely accurate.
First Glance saw fit to approach and insert herself into the conversation. “You are in the habit of striking young colts and fillies on a regular basis, then?”
“That is not the way his words were meant to be read,” I firmly cut in, lest the matter escalate any further. “Among the sergeant’s responsibilities is the instruction of our trainees in hoof-to-hoof combat techniques. ‘Tis to be expected that he is well acquainted with what level of force is to be used when instructing his charges, no matter their age.”
“I think I should like to see the medical records for your trainees.” First Glance spared a few moments to shoo off several curious trainees before he continued. “It might be interesting to learn how many young colts and fillies have suffered injury while under instruction of the sergeant.”
“Neigh.” What little tolerance I’d been willing to allow the inspectors was rapidly fading in light of the accusations they were leveling against one of my best trainers. “The sergeant is not mistreating any of the colts and fillies entrusted into his care, and I’ll not even dignify the ludicrous notion with a moment’s consideration.”
First Glance shifted her attention to me. “It is your intention then, Ephor, to obstruct the course of this investigation?” Her upper lip curled up in a faint sneer. “You forget, perhaps, that our investigation has been authorized by the Queen herself. You cannot hide from justice behind your rank and status.”
“Hide from justice?” I repeated the words incredulously. “I’ve nothing to hide, but what you suggest is naught but foolishness. The sergeant has treated his charges no differently than any other instructor, and far more leniently than some.” When my late father had undertaken my own instruction, I would have been quite fortunate to act as Strata did and receive only a bloodied nose for it. Clay Striker was not a very gentle pony, though every harm he’d done me had led to my betterment as a warrior. Father and I both still missed him dearly.
Gentle Heart interpreted my words in the most negative light possible. “So there are other clans which mistreat their foals even more badly than yours?
“Not amongst the pegasi. Mistreatment is mercifully rare, and swiftly dealt with by the clan.” My mind went back to a certain Archmagus of Canterlot. “Meanwhile, in Unicornia a foalslayer can be publicly honored for her deeds.”
At that point Father stepped between the two sides, moving slowly with a single foreleg extended, as if he were searching. “If I am to separate the two sides and send both to opposite corners of the compound, this investigation shall be significantly hampered. In no small part due to how long it takes me to find the corners in recent days.”
Father’s jest did offer a brief reprieve from the budding clash, if nothing else. More importantly, it finally seemed to draw Radiant Day’s attention away from Nimbus, and towards the budding clash between my clan and his subordinates. Reminded that he had greater duties than socializing with attractive mares, he all but galloped to the scene. “What passes here?”
Gentle Heart was first to answer him, leveling an accusing hoof at Stalwart. “He struck one of the foals under his care, in plain view of all!”
Radiant stepped up and looked over Strata’s injuries, such as they were. After a quick glance, he gave a thoroughly unworried shrug. “I suffered far worse in the training yard in my day.” A faint grin quirked the corners of his mouth. “If a soft and pampered unicorn noble can suffer through such wounds, I am sure the battle-hardened warriors of Pegasopolis can endure them as well.”
“Sir,” First Glance ground out with barely-concealed displeasure, “I think you dismiss the matter too quickly. It bears further investigation.”
“Our task,” Radiant Day firmly reminded his subordinate, “is to investigate whether there are Clippings occurring within this clanhold. Not to question every single aspect of Pegasopolan society. The Archmagus’ instructions were quite clear: we are here to investigate actual cases of mutilation and severe abuse, not to waste time chasing after the cause of every minor little bruise. Even if their training methods were overly harsh by our standards, which I’ll note that they are not, it is none of our concern.”
Gentle Heart opened his mouth to voice an objection, but Strata put a hoof against the stallion’s chest, and roughly shoved him back. “Have a care when you accuse any within my clan of mistreatment,” the filly growled. “Such could easily be seen as an insult grave enough to require juris ungula as an answer. I do not think you would enjoy that.”
The implied threat in those words cowed Gentle Heart and First Glance both, in part because the words came from the very filly they purported to protect. Radiant was quick to seize upon the opportunity to reassert control over the civilians under his command. “If we are quite done with this diversion, there is much actual work to be done. Let us go about it.” The unicorn knight set off at a brisk pace, which the two civilians scrambled to match.
As they departed, I heard a faint wistful sigh from the general direction of Nimbus. Father did not fail to note it either. “Ha! ‘Twould seem that Nimbus is smitten!” The young mare’s cheeks flushed at the accusation, but she did not deny it. “No matter,” Father continued, “she is of an age where such things are to be expected. Besides, he did have a rather handsome voice. Were I a decade or two younger and in better health, I might try to claim him for myself. Pity my eyes do not allow me to appreciate the rest of him.” He trotted over to my younger kinsmare and offered a teasing grin. “Tell me, Nimbus, didst thou find him fine to look upon?”
“I did not think to look upon him in such a way, sir,” Nimbus mumbled, the blush putting the lie to her words even as they left her mouth. “But if asked to comment, I would say that he was not uncomely.”
“Surprisingly well-built for a unicorn,” Stalwart commented.
“That he was,” I agreed. “Though too young for my tastes. Of an age with Nimbus though, and judging by his actions, at least as taken with her as she is with him. Mayhaps ‘twould be proper for me to make inquiries with his family. I would not have it be said that I have been remiss in my duties as materfamilias by not making suitable arrangements to wed the clan’s young.” (6)
6: While Pegasopolis did not practice arranged marriage, it was customary for clan leaders to contact each other regarding courtships. Usually, this was just done to ensure that the pony in question was not already in a committed relationship, and avoid other potential issues like incompatible orientation or attempting to court a pony who was still in mourning for a lost spouse/lover. Barring those issues or some other problem that rendered the courting party unsuitable, permission to court was almost always granted.
‘Twas perhaps a touch cruel of me, but as often happens in the wake of tension, we all sought a jest to calm our nerves, and Nimbus offered a ready target. ‘Twas a relief, to see her make the transition from soldier horribly wounded by griffons to an ordinary young mare flush at the prospect of love, or at least the beginnings of desire. Every warrior will at times benefit from remembering that there is more to our lives than the ne’erending battles to ensure Equestria’s safety. For a brief moment, I envied her.
My own efforts in that arena have been less than successful. I’ve had my share of brief liasons, but my efforts at securing something more substantive had not borne fruit. Then I had the misfortune of becoming smitten with a pony already wed. Rightly was not one who could ever be disloyal to his wife, and I could not even have the pleasure of hating Brave Charger or thinking her some unworthy harpy who had stolen that which I desired. She was too fine a mare for me to harbor such thoughts.
‘Twas a difficult thing, to see the mare who stood in my way perish ‘pon the birthing bed. For all that I wished to mourn her as any decent pony should, a treacherous part of my heart could not help but note that now the path before me lay clear. That even as Rightly suffered the pain of his losses, a part of my mind counted the days until the period of mourning would end, and I could make my interest known without feeling any guilt or being forced to listen to any clicking of tongues from Pegasopolan society.
“I’ve a sudden wish to see Ephor Doo.” I did not even realize that I had spoken the thought aloud until I heard the words.
To my surprise, Nimbus let out an amused little titter. “Truly? ‘Twould seem that I am not the only mare who is smitten with a fine stallion.”
I turned upon the young mare, and fixed her with a disapproving glower I normally reserved for particularly unruly soldiers. Nimbus immediately shrank back, her ears going flat against her head and her voice coming out as little more than a frightened squeak. “M-my apologies, m’lady.”
Father let out a snort. “Have mercy on the poor mare, Shadow, ‘twas a harmless jest.” I ceased my glaring, and offered a slight apologetic smile. Then Father spoke again. “Besides, she’s right.”
Father can be most vexing.
Upon arrival at the Doo clanhold, I found the Doos in a state of intense agitation. ‘Twas not so much a matter of ponies scrambling about or talking amongst themselves, but rather a sense of quietude that was most unlike the usually warm and welcoming clanhold. I would wonder at what caused such a dramatic shift in the clan’s mood, but I had premonition that the grim mood was a product of the very same thing that had upset me a short time previously. My clanhold could not be the only one to be visited by the Commander’s inspectors.
I found Rightly in his office, quite alone. That in and of itself was unusual—though ‘twould not have been odd for him to meet with me in private for a planned visit, when I simply came to his clanhold unannounced I would usually find him in the midst of seeing to the duties of clan leader and ephor. For him to idle away the hours in isolation was both unusual and troubling.
I sealed the entrance behind myself after entering, and cleared my throat to announce my presence. Rightly looked to me and gave a vague sort of grunt in acknowledgement, but said nothing. Though ‘twas clear that he was not in a mood to speak, I did so regardless. “What has passed within thy clanhold?”
The words seemed to snap him out of whatever dark thoughts occupied his mind, and he remembered his manners, rising to greet me with a strained smile and forced politeness. “My apologies, Shadow, yesterday was most difficult. This matter of inspection has left me ... wroth. I do not consider myself an impetuous stallion, yet I find myself impatient to see the end of this farce.”
Those words surprised me. Rightly was not a pony given to fits of temper; by nature, he tends to be of a phlegmatic disposition. I cannot recall the last time I’d seen him so much as raise his voice, but now his shoulders were trembling with barely-suppressed fury. ‘Twas a most unsettling sight, and one I took haste to correct with gentle, understanding words. “I was less than pleased with their visit to my clan's compound as well.”
“The silence from the Kicker compound was almost typical,” Rightly observed after a few calming breaths. “I applaud thy restraint, or else thy silent expediency in removing the problem.”
“Indeed? Things did not seem so silent from within the compound itself.” Even as I said that, my mind went to the rumors I’d heard about the city on my journey to Rightly’s clanhold. “I have heard it said in the streets that Bright all but assaulted the inspectors sent to her clanhold.” I would not be surprised if that rumor were truth; Bright’s impulsiveness would lend itself easily to quick and violent action if she felt the honor of her clan to be threatened.
Rightly let out a snort that carried an atypical note of dark amusement. “I would have given many units of the groundsiders’ ... mondays, to have witnessed that.”
“Money, dear Rightly,” I gently corrected him.
Rightly let out an annoyed grumble and gave a dismissive wave of his hoof. The sight of him acting in such a manner brought a smile to my lips, and might have prompted a laugh had his own mood been less sour. As it was, I contented myself with gazing upon him, letting my loving smile convey all that my words could not.
Rightly returned my smile, and for a brief time all the troubles of recent days seemed far less burdensome. Sadly, ‘twas but a single tender moment, and all too fleeting. Rightly turned his gaze from mine, and a scowl darkened his countenance once more. “I would have preferred Bright to have begun at my clanhold. I had words with our esteemed inspectors, though I much desired actions. Cultural ignorance does not excuse their actions, nor exempt them from any consequences.”
My curiosity as to what could have pushed Rightly to such fury overcame my prudence. “What was said?”
Rightly’s forelegs shifted as his hooves ground the cloud beneath him into naught but loose moisture. After a long silence, he answered my question through clenched teeth. “I was questioned regarding my involvement in Brave's foaling. The Commander’s inspectors were...” Rightly trailed off, no doubt struggling to find a word that could convey the depth of his fury whilst remaining suitable for polite conversation. “They were kind enough to find me faultless in the passing of her and our child, though some still felt that the matter merited further investigation.”
My eyes went wide from shock, and I felt my choler rise. “Surely they did not?!”
“They did.” The words came out as a tight, furious growl. “There is no excuse for such a barb. None.”
I gave a sharp nod. “I am surprised none of thy clan sought juris ungula over the matter.” Had I been present when such slanderous words were uttered, I surely would have, e’en if it meant going against social custom by challenging a lesser.
“Many within my clan wished to do so, but I forbade it. I’ll not have the blood of the Commander’s chosen envoys shed within my clanhold.” Rightly’s wings moved in a slight shrug, as if even now he questioned the rightness of that action. “Though never have I been so tempted to allow myself a lapse in moral judgment. As it was, I had no choice but to remind their accompanying gendarme that his service was toward their protection.” He met my eyes. “This Unicornian jest played itself out 'fore the Commander sought dessert. ‘Tis past time it ended.”
“It has gone poorly.” I agreed. ‘Twas most chilling to think that the disastrous reception at my own clanhold was likely the most successful of all the inspections to date.
“Thou dost possess a talent for understatement, Shadow.” Rightly’s eyes narrowed, and the anger in his voice faded, with a note of inflexible determination taking its place. “We do not answer to the Queen of Unicornia, nor the Archmagus which holds her lead. Commander Celestia has forgotten herself.”
“Her intentions are just,” I argued in her defense. “The problem lies not in her desire to see justice done or our young protected, but in the execution of her policies. Or more specifically, the ponies chosen to bring her desires to fruition.” I suspect that this investigation would have proceeded with far less trouble absent the involvement of a certain Archmagus.
Even as the thought entered my mind, I saw the flaw in it: Archmagus Sparkle was many things, but she was not an incompetent. I would not hesitate to accuse her of plotting to improve her own lot at the expense of others, but the acts of the inspectors were too petty and pointless. They seemed the sort of small-minded cruelties inflicted by ponies of low character revelling in their temporary power over their betters, not the carefully measured movements of a master schemer.
“Did the Commander not choose and instruct her investigators? Does she not hold responsibility for choosing such unsuitable ponies?” Though it pained me admit it, his point was well-made. If I were to appoint an incompetent to a position of great importance, my own judgment would be questioned by those within my clan (7).
7: In Celestia’s defense, they had less than a month to throw the investigation team together. It would be rather difficult to properly vet all the ponies involved, or train them all in the intricacies of Pegasopolan culture. Though that does show that her timeline was unrealistically short, it probably would have looked very bad for everypony involved if there were any more Clippings before the team was finished getting organized.
Rightly fell silent for a time, then gave a single nod, as if he had resolved his mind. “I intend to summon the other Ephors and put an end to this madness before the fools provoke somepony and blood is shed. These foreign inspections undermine the Commander's words of faith in us. Though she may claim otherwise when asked, her actions show that she does not believe us capable of governing ourselves absent a leash held in the hoof of a horned taskmaster.”
Though I shared much of his opinion, I felt compelled to offer at least some token defense of the Commander. “There is some reason to think an outside perspective might be of value in uncovering those flaws within our own society which we might be blind to.”
“Whatever value an outside perspective might offer is more than offset by the acts of those chosen to provide it,” Rightly countered, stomping the floor.“Before this travesty, I might have been willing to work alongside the Commander’s agents from the other tribes; but I doubt I am alone when I say that this lapse in judgement shan't be allowed to happen a second time. We shall police ourselves, and pay no heed to the wagging of tongues in Canterlot.”
The anger in his voice, and fact that his bile was aimed principally at Commander Celestia, greatly unsettled me. “You judge Commander Celestia too harshly, Rightly. She has erred in this, but she tries to do what is best for Equestria.”
“Unicornia is not Equestria, Shadow.” Rightly scowled down at the floor. “Too long has she absented herself from Pegasopolis. Neigh, ‘tis not even that, for she was never truly ‘mongst us; in the time of the Two Sisters, we were Luna’s favored children. ‘Twould seem that even though we refused to support Commander Luna when she sought her sister’s overthrow, we are to be punished for that.” Rightly fell silent for some time, then hesitantly gave voice to his darkest thoughts. “I cannot help but wonder, now, if perhaps our ancestors did not make the correct choice.”
Those words shook me to the core. ‘Twas one thing to note where the Commander has erred, but ‘twas quite another to even entertain the thought of turning on her. “Rightly! I pray thee, do not speak of such things!”
“Peace, Shadow.” Rightly forestalled me with an upraised hoof. “Do not heed words spoken in anger. Though I am wroth with her, I would not truly wish to act against Commander Celestia. However, that such dark thoughts might even enter my mind troubles me greatly.”
An uncomfortable silence fell between us, as I struggled to think how I might respond to such words. Ultimately, I decided that no mere words could suffice. I stepped up to his side, closer than was strictly appropriate for a mere friend, but rather than object to my rather forward behavior, he simply met my eyes and gave a small nod. Emboldened by his tacit approval, I spoke. “I am ... saddened, to see thee so pained. ‘Tis like I have been wounded in turn.”
Rightly’s voice turned gentle, all anger fleeing from it as tender words left his lips. “I would not see thee so wounded.”
I finished my approach and hesitantly brought a hoof up, wanting nothing more but to touch him, yet hesitant to do so. Rightly made no move to stop the gesture, and the pain in his eyes told me he would welcome my touch. “I would ask for thy presence later, when I address our fellow ephors. Yet ... now, also.”
With his unspoken permission, I closed the distance and stroked his cheek. “I would be at thy side, whenever thou might require me.”
Rightly not only accepted my touch, but gently nuzzled my hoof in turn. “My thanks, dear Shadow.”
My heart soared upon hearing such words from him. “Always, dear Rightly.” I licked my lips as I gathered my courage to speak the most dangerous words I’d ever uttered. “I hope that a time soon comes when we might speak of better things than these troubles.”
“Such is my hope as well.” Rightly leaned towards me, so that our muzzles were separated by the barest of distances. “I would hear happier words flow from thy lips.”
“And I from thee.” I was sorely tempted to seek his lips with my own. Many would say that I would find no better opportunity for it, and ‘twas clear that we greatly desired to do away with the shackles of propriety. That we would like nothing better than to share a tender embrace and gentle kisses. But such a thing could not be, not when the wound of his wife’s death not only remained open, but had been freshly reopened and filled with salt by the callous words of Sunbeam’s inspectors.
We held our position for a time, silently sharing each other’s presence and taking what little comfort we could offer one another. Alas, we could not do so indefinitely. I reluctantly removed my hoof from his cheek. “We must not ... duty calls us both.”
“Aye.” Rightly closed his eyes, then took a deliberate step back from me, returning to a professional distance. “We must gather the Ephors, so that we might meet with the Commander as soon as possible.”
“Yes, of course.”
Before we could depart to begin that task, one of Rightly’s kin burst through the wall. “Forgive me milord, and lady Ephor.” The young stallion took several gasping breaths, as if he had just flown here at great speed. Once he’d recovered, he glanced between the two of us, his flushed cheeks showing that he clearly feared some retribution for intruding on our private conversation. My interest in Rightly was no great secret within my own clan—’twas quite possible that much the same was the case for Rightly within his. ‘Twould explain why I’d never been challenged upon entering the Doo clanhold and requesting private conversation with him.
Rightly nodded to the young stallion. “I trust thou wouldst not have interrupted us save for a matter of greatest need. Speak, then.”
“Milord, it is Valiant and some of the others,” the stallion gasped out. “They’ve cornered one of the inspectors in the central agora! I think they mean to claim her life for the insult she offered you!” (8)
8: The agora was a traditional Pegasopolan gathering place. While the agora began as a mustering ground for military units, during peacetime ponies would regularly meet at the agora to discuss political affairs, listen to epic poems and musical compositions, and generally mingle.
Rightly and I exchanged a single look, and nodded in agreement. Whatever our thoughts on the matter of inspection, we could both agree that murder could not be countenanced. Not even when those who would commit the act were of Rightly’s own clan, and performing the act in defense of his honor.
The two of us made all haste to the agora, accompanied by those Doos who noted their leader’s haste and thought to follow in our wake. It might have been wiser to briefly delay our departure in order to ask the stallion who’d reported the crime for more details as to where the ponies in question might be found—Cloudsdale’s central agora is not a small place—but in our haste we did not think to do so. In any case, we had little difficulty finding them, in no small part due to the substantial crowd that had gathered to bear witness to the spectacle.
Near a dozen pegasi, a mixed group of young mares and stallions from the Doo and Charger clans, were gathered around a single bloodied unicorn. The attackers shifted, and I recognized First Glance.
“This is an outrage!” The inspector shouted, attempting to maintain a brave face despite her obvious disadvantage. “I am an inspector in the service of Her Majesty, the Queen of Unicornia!”
A stallion in Doo armor who had the look of the ringleader of the attacking pegasi let out a derisive scoff. “Oh, thou art a servant of the Queen of Unicornia?” He repeated mockingly. “Well, ‘twould be a very fine thing, save for one slight issue. Though thee and thy kind do not seem to grasp it, thou art no longer in Unicornia. This is Pegasopolis.”
He struck the cloud beneath First Glance’s hooves, and it dispersed.
She fell.
Despite our best efforts, Rightly and I were not able to save First Glance before she struck the ground. While I was not overly fond of the inspector, she had done nothing so severe as to merit death.
Neigh. Not death. Let us call it what it was: murder.
Rightly and I attempted to recover what we could of her corpse, until the gendarmes arrived to see to the matter. I suspect it would take them some time to accomplish the task. First Glance’s body had landed ‘pon a rocky cliff. It was scattered.
We returned to find a large contingent of unicorns under Radiant Day’s command in the midst of a confrontation with Valiant Doo and his fellow ruffians. Our return, coupled with the grim expressions on our faces and First Glance’s notable absence, answered their unspoken question. To my disgust, Valiant seemed quite pleased with himself.
Radiant turned to the ringleader of the young hooligans and fixed him with an uncompromising glare. “Valiant Doo. Thou and the pegasi under thy command are to disarm and surrender yourselves into my custody immediately.”
Valiant let out an incredulous snort and reared up on his hind legs, ostentatiously displaying his hammer-hooves. (1). “If thou wishes for my weapons, come and take them.”
1: One of the most common blunt force weapons of the time period, and still commonly used in the modern Guard. They are similar to the traditional hoof armor, but reinforced and modified to maximize their striking power, and usually made with a dense core of heavier metal to allow for much heavier blows. While they are very effective weapons capable of crushing an armored opponent’s bones, some ponies (including the editor) have a hard time adjusting to carrying heavy weights on all their hooves, and they can considerably reduce one’s reaction time.
Radiant Day showed no fear in the face of the naked threat in Valiant’s voice. “I would prefer to take thee alive, so that thou might be hanged as a murderer deserves. That said, I am given to understand that pegasi consider it an honor to die in battle. If needs be, I will so honor thee.”
Valiant scoffed at him. “Thou art too bold by half. Dost thou truly believe that thou canst take a pegasus prisoner in Cloudsdale itself? That simply because a horned harlot sits at the Commander’s side, thou might place thyself above us? Thou art badly mistaken.”
To my displeasure, there seemed to be some validity to his point. The gendarmes should already have secured Valiant and his compatriots before Radiant Day even arrived ‘pon the scene. Barring that, they should at least have come to the unicorn’s assistance. Instead, they seemed content to stand aside, allowing events to take their course.
Even if the gendarmes did not do their appointed duty, the common citizenry of Pegasopolis was more than capable of subduing a few rogue pegasi. However, nopony moved to back the unicorns. In fact, I could swear that a few ponies had attached themselves to the periphery of Valiant’s entourage since the whole incident began. It sickened me to think that if matters came to blows, the crowd might side with a murderer over an outsider.
Radiant was not blind to the mood of the crowd. Already his small contingent of inspectors and escorts were outnumbered by Valiant’s followers, and many of the unicorns were looking find a line of retreat rather than focusing upon their duty. However, these facts did not change his duty. “Valiant Doo, I will bring thee to justice e’en if I must contend against all of Cloudsdale to do so.”
“Enough!” Rightly snapped, stepping between the two parties. “Valiant! Stand down, ere thou dost bring further dishonor ‘pon our clan!”
The young hothead quailed at his ephor’s condemnation, but though his shoulders shook and he could not meet Rightly’s eyes, he did not give in entirely. “I will not surrender my weapons to foreigners, e’en if you order me to do so, sir. No pegasus has ever surrendered their arms to an invading force, and I’ll not be the first to do so.”
“Thou shalt do as I wish,” Rightly all but growled at him. “Or I swear that I will do what I must to see that thou art brought to justice for this crime, e’en if it means I must do violence ‘gainst my own kin.” He glowered at the gendarmes, who quickly bestirred themselves and moved to his side. “However, though thou art a fool and a murderer both, thou art still kin to me, for the moment. More importantly, thou art a citizen of Pegasopolis. Thou shalt face our justice, not that of the unicorns. Now, lay down thy arms.”
For a moment I wondered if Valiant might be mad enough to resist arrest. There was a palpable tension in the crowd as he raised a hoof, which transformed to a relieved sigh as he removed his hammer-hooves instead of striking out with them. The other ponies who had taken up Valiant’s cause were quickly rounded up by the gendarmes and clapped into irons.
Radiant approached the two of us, wearing a troubled frown. “I thank you for alleviating the situation, Ephor. Too much blood has already been shed this day. First Glance...”
“Her end was swift and relatively painless,” I assured him.
“That is a small mercy.” Radiant let out a pained sigh. “I know she could be harsh, but she deserved far better than to be murdered over a slight.” He glanced towards the group of would-be brigands. “While I am obligated to ask that the prisoners be transferred to my custody, I presume that you would refuse such a request?”
“I would,” Rightly answered simply. “The crime occurred within Pegasopolis, and the perpetrators were pegasi. They will face our justice.”
“And the victim was a unicorn,” Radiant countered. “I would see to it that her attackers face justice.”
“You speak as if there is no justice in Pegasopolis,” Rightly snapped.
“I speak as one who has seen his quarry taken from him by the criminal’s own kin,” Radiant answered him tersely. “I mean no insult by it, but you must concede, sir, that were our positions reversed, you would also be wary.”
Rightly opened his mouth to respond, but the answer died in his throat. Radiant’s point was well-made. After a long and troubled silence, Rightly at last answered him. “I can assure you, he will face true justice, not some mockery of it. Clan Doo has no place for murderers in our ranks.”
Radiant met Rightly’s gaze for a long moment, and then reluctantly nodded. “You are an honorable pony, sir, and I have every reason to believe that it will be as you say. However, my duty requires that I inform the Archmagus and Her Majesty of this matter, and formally request extradition of the criminals to Unicornian custody.”
“You will do your duty, and we shall do ours.” I moved between the two stallions, if only to cut short any further disagreement on the matter. “For now, we shall secure our prisoners, and await Commander Celestia’s summons on the matter of jurisdiction.”
“So be it.” Radiant offered a quick half-bow to each of us in turn. “I bid you good day, Ephors. I expect we shall meet again quite soon.”
True to Radiant’s prediction, ‘twas not long before Commander Celestia summoned us. Upon my arrival at the Commander’s Residence, I found the place in an uproar. Unicornian and Pegasopolan officials scrambled to and fro, and not infrequently argued with each other over their appointed duties. Matters were not helped by the budding crowd of curious onlookers, mostly ordinary pegasi eager to see the outcome of the latest political squabble. I found my mind drawn to the memories of the near-riot in Manehatten—I would like to think that pegasi are more disciplined than that. I also hoped we did not have occasion to put that to the test. I do not think the crowd would react well to learning that Commander Celestia intended to give Valiant and his companions over to Unicornian custody.
I met Rightly a short ways away from the Commander’s Residence. I was unsurprised that he had seen fit to bring the criminal Valiant with his party, escorted by a force of his own clanponies.
To my intense annoyance, Sunbeam Sparkle met us at the entrance, rather than remaining within the Commander’s Residence. A cur’s proper place is at its master’s side, its leash firmly in hoof—not wandering the streets, barking and yipping at ponies with proper duties to attend to.
The Archmagus approached us, flanked by a small party of Unicornian knights. I do not recall there being quite so many unicorns under arms in the Commander’s party. However, a heightening of security was only prudent in the aftermath of the attack upon First Glance. Still, it sat poorly with me to see such a force walking the streets. With all the recent tension between our races, ‘twas difficult not to view them as more akin to an invading force than an armed escort.
Sunbeam Sparkle chose to position herself on a cloudbank a short distance from us, granting her a small advantage in height over us for the moment. No doubt, the effect might have seemed imposing to the groundbound races, who are limited to two-dimensional movement. “Ephors, I believe you have a prisoner who belongs to Unicornia.”
Rightly met her eyes and gave a single sharp shake of his head. “Neigh, we do not.”
“Oh?” The Archmagus’ voice turned acidic as she continued, “Has he conveniently taken his own life to preserve the clan's honor before we could launch a proper investigation?” She looked over Rightly’s retinue, and espied the criminal. “Ah, so the murderer yet lives. That is a relief—our suspects dying before they can be interrogated does seem to be an all-too-common occurrence in Pegasopolis.”
Rightly’s let out a faintly annoyed snort. “It does not behoove you to insult your hosts, Archmagus. Unlike Unicornian society, those who commit murder in Pegasopolis are actually punished.”
“Rightly,” I gently cautioned him. “She is trying to provoke you. Do not rise to her bait.”
“I’ll not fall for such transparent manipulations,” he answered me tersely. “But I’ll also not allow her insults to go unanswered. Honor demands no less.”
Sunbeam Sparkle spared a disdainful glance for the two of us. “Well, more’s the pity that we’ll not have the opportunity to see Pegasopolan justice, such as it is, in action. I formally demand the extradition of the criminal Valiant Doo, for the crime of murder most foul. He will face our justice.”
“Your request is noted and denied, Archmagus.” Rightly gave a coldly dismissive wave of his hoof. “The crime was committed in Pegasopolis by a Pegasopolian. Jurisdiction falls to Pegasopolis to investigate, prosecute, and punish.”
“The victim was a citizen of Unicornia, investigating crimes 'mongst the highest leaders of Pegasopolis,” the Archmagus smoothly countered. She stepped down from her elevated position, and when next she spoke it was with a clear, booming voice that carried over the crowd. Clearly, she was not merely speaking for our benefit now. “Inspector First Glance was openly murdered in broad daylight, whilst a crowd of Pegasopolan citizens, gendarmes, and even two members of the ephorate stood watching. Further, her murder came because her questions made those in a position of power uncomfortable.” She offered Rightly a smile that positively dripped with venom. “Perhaps her death came because her questions were dangerously close to revealing some hidden truth?”
Rightly’s teeth clenched, and for a moment he glared at the Archmagus in pure, unadulterated hate. When he spoke, his voice carried the forced, cold neutrality of a pony struggling to contain his righteous fury. “Do you lend weight to her accusation that I had a part in the death of my wife and child 'pon the foaling bed?”
“I said no such thing.” Not that the Archmagus needed to openly make such an accusation. The mere implication of it was damning enough. Were it not for the Commander’s clear wishes to the contrary, I might have pushed her on the matter, in the hopes that she would say something offensive enough to give me cause to demand juris .
“I have no wish to bring a formal accusation against you, Ephor. Slander and sedition unsupported by evidence is not the way of Unicornia,” Sunbeam’s voice oozed out. “I merely state that the attack upon the inspector came as a direct result of her inquiries into the matter whilst in the course of performing her duties.” She gave a wide wave over the crowd of restive pegasi lingering near the Commander’s Residence. “Who would you have try Valiant? Half of your citizens would give him a commendation for the murder, if they could.”
“A good task well done deserves recognition,” Valiant spoke up from the midst of his escort.
“Be silent, criminal!” Rightly snapped at the murderer, before returning his attention to the Archmagus. “If half our populace supports him, then we shall simply pick our jury from amongst the other half.”
“How droll.” Sunbeam offered him an unamused look. “Is that what passes for wit in Pegasopolis? Regardless, I think it better still that the criminal Valiant Doo be tried in an unbiased court and by an unbiased jury.”
Rightly let out an incredulous scoff at the suggestion. “If the court you intend to try him in has horns, I think that reivers would be a far kinder and more honest population.”
The Archmagus’ eye widened, and her lip curled in a self-righteous snarl. “How dare you, sir?”
Rightly shrugged off her attempt to play the wounded party. “Quite easily, in truth.”
“Such sentiments are unworthy of a leader of Equestria,” Sunbeam Sparkle gave Rightly a derisive sneer. “Though ‘tis not far withdrawn from what I’ve come to expect when exchanging words with an ephor of Pegasopolis.”
“If a strict adherence to the truth is what you have come to expect of the ephorate, then I shall take that as the highest praise.” Rightly gave a satisfied smile at having so deftly turned the Archmagus’ words ‘gainst her. “In any case, 'tis my understanding that the ranks of Unicornia have been compromised by love of the ... money your society uses, and that unicorns value blood more dearly than competence and honesty.” Rightly spared a glance for the Archmagus’ thunderforged shoes, and his lip curled up in a faint sneer. “Now ‘twould seem that such poison have even gained the ability to traverse clouds.”
The Archmagus met Rightly’s words with a contemptuous snort, and she spoke with biting sarcasm. “Ah, pegasus arrogance. Yes, your realm is far superior to any other. The great paradise of Pegasopolis, where ruffians may freely perform murder in the streets, children are mutilated if they do not perform in their lessons, and our Queen's name is held in contempt.”
Though I was tempted to give voice to my objections, a glance from Rightly made me hold my tongue. This was his battle, and he did not wish for my involvement. Stallions are often stubbornly proud in regards to such matters.
Rightly turned back to face the Archmagus, a single eyebrow raised. “The actions of a few mad criminals do not define a society—and at least when foals are harmed in our realm, the perpetrator is properly punished instead of being granted power and influence.”
If the barb bothered her in the slightest, Sunbeam Sparkle did not show it. “Only the acts of a few criminals, you say? One can only wonder how many more crimes your timely assassination of the inspector concealed.”
Rightly let out an incredulous snort. “One could just as easily ask when thou didst cease beating thy daughter needlessly.”
The mention of young Midnight naturally drew my eyes to the filly, and I could not fail to notice the slight flinch that Rightly’s words drew from her. Unsurpringly, that reaction excited my curiosity as to whether there was something to charge. From what little I’d seen of her treatment of young Midnight, Sunbeam Sparkle was a harsh but not unfair mother. I cannot imagine that the Commander would tolerate mistreatment of a foal within her very palace. Then again, she seemed willing enough to employ a foal-slayer; who is to say that she might not also overlook a few inconvenient injuries suffered by young Midnight?
Neigh. I cannot imagine that the Commander would allow such a thing to occur. And though I am loath to admit it, Sunbeam Sparkle’s foal-slaying was not the act of a mad killer. The murder displayed a level of vile and pitiless calculation, yes, but there is a vast difference between who would willingly commit a foul crime to further their own ends and a mere wanton abuser. If nothing else, I imagine that Archmagus Sparkle would not needlessly mistreat her daughter simply because she would gain no benefit in doing so.
I do not doubt young Midnight might claim that she was unfairly punished at times, though what child has not felt that way at times? I know in my youth, I often objected to the reprimands I received from my fathers, even though now that I have the benefit of an adult’s wisdom I know they were deserved. Mostly—in the matter of the damaged wing blade, I shall maintain until my dying day that my late father was unfair to me.
However, while I occupied my own thoughts with the question of young Midnight, Rightly continued his debate with her mother. “Such wanton accusations of crime and conspiracy are needless and unbecoming of one of your station, Archmagus. Cease your barking and be useful, or grant us surcease from the displeasure of your company.”
“I would say the same to you, sir,” Sunbeam Sparkle returned. “Her Majesty’s will has been made clear to you. If you will not surrender the criminal to Unicornian custody, then by all means, return to your clanhold, so that you might continue to beat your children whilst claiming that you do so for their own edification. I’ve no more patience for this display of arrogance.”
“Then ‘twould seem we have finally reached one point of agreement, unicorn. Neither of us wishes to endure the other’s presence for a moment longer.” Rightly turned to me, his tail flicking in annoyance. “I beseech thee, dear Shadow, take the Archmagus and her child to the ground. 'Tis my concern that her presence shall only continued to undermine the investigation and cause needless tension between Unicornia and Pegasopolis.”
“It would be my pleasure to remove her.” For the first time since Sunbeam Sparkle’s arrival in Pegasopolis, I felt something resembling joy at the thought of any form of interaction with her. ‘Twould be most gratifying indeed to remove her from our clouds, that she might never grace us with the dubious pleasure of her company again.
Rightly offered me a grateful nod, and for the first time since his conversation with Sunbeam Sparkle began, there was a faint smile ‘pon his face rather than an angry glower or an annoyed frown. “I bid thee to tarry not, Shadow. The longer the Archmagus lingers here, the more time her foul stench will have to sink into the very clouds themselves.”
“I do not serve at the Ephorate’s pleasure,” Archmagus Sparkle snarled at us. “I am here at Her Majesty's behest, and only she may command my departure. Or is your contempt for her now so great that you would dare to openly defy her wishes?”
“Your queen's reach ends at the ground,” Rightly answered with a dismissive snort. “In the clouds, the only authority that matters is that of the Commander. Foreign dignitaries are expected to make a swift departure once their hosts reject them. I say now that you are no longer welcome in Pegasopolis, Sunbeam Sparkle. Your continued presence will not be tolerated.”
In answer, the Archmagus merely dug her hooves into the clouds. Though she said nothing, her intent was clear. She would not be moved, not without struggle. For my part, I thought it best to seek out the Commander so that she might simply order Archmagus Sparkler to stand down and end this charade. It would greatly please me to see Sunbeam Sparkle so humbled, whilst all Pegasopolis and her own unicorn companions could bear witness to her humiliation.
Sadly, it seemed that now Rightly’s blood was up, and he had no desire for the solution that patience might have delivered into his hooves. Instead, he spoke plainly. “Shadow, I pray thee to take her from this place at once, lest gravity be her only guide to her realm.”
I could only gape at Rightly’s truly abysmal choice of words. Though I love him dearly, even now, there were times when he could be a complete and utter fool.
The reaction of the Unicornian contingent was immediate, as the Archmagus’ escort arrayed themselves protectively before her, weapons bared and spells at the ready. Sunbeam Sparkle’s own horn let out a bright green glow, and when she spoke there was a deadly calm to her voice that I knew all too well. This was no longer a mere political display: now, she was preparing to shed blood. “It is most unwise, Ephor, to threaten an archmagus.”
Rightly’s clanmates flocked to his side, and placed themselves between him and the unicorn escort. There was only the barest of distances between the two forces, and tension lay thick in the air. ‘Twould take but the barest of actions to prompt one side or the other to violence.
I whirled upon Rightly and though I kept voice low, the fury in my tone conveyed the depth of my displeasure. “Art thou mad, dear Rightly?! Thou wouldst speak of subjecting a unicorn to gravity so soon after the crimes of thy own kin? Hast thou taken leave of thy senses, or dost thou wish for this to end in bloodshed?”
Rightly blinked several times, and his mouth hung open as the import of his words struck his mind. “I did not think to...” He cleared his throat, and spoke loudly and clearly for the benefit of all. “I apologize for my most unfortunate choice of words, Archmagus. I have no excuse for such behavior.” He turned to his clanmates. “Stand down.” His attention once more shifted to me. “Shadow, I revise my prior request, and now suggest that thou merely escort her child to the ground 'fore tensions boil over yet again. If Sunbeam Sparkle wishes to remain in Pegasopolis let her reap the consequences of that choice, but I’ll not see a filly suffer for the sins of her mother. Thrice it is said, and done.”
I stepped forward, intending to do precisely as Rightly asked, but found my way barred by a young Unicornian knight bearing a blazing blade the instant I crossed past Rightly’s own forces. “You shall come no further, Ephor.”
I was somewhat relieved when Radiant Day stepped out from the line of unicorns protecting the Archmagus, and addressed the soldier barring my way. “Stand down, Daylight. The ephor has no intention of escalating things to the point of violence, and neither should we.”
To my annoyance, Sunbeam Sparkle glanced to the soldier barring my way and offered an approving nod. “I will be neither bullied nor threatened by the brutes of Pegasopolis. Though I’ve no wish for this to end in bloodshed, I shall defend myself if attacked, as will my faithful protectors.”
As Sunbeam Sparkle’s bodyguard clearly had no intention of allowing me to come within hoof’s reach of her or her child, I withdrew once more to Rightly’s side. There was little more I could truly do, unless I cared to strike the first blow simply to remove the unicorn from my path. Such would hardly have been a wise course of action.
Upon my return, Rightly spared a displeased glower for me, which stung far more deeply than it should have. ‘Twas hardly proper to condemn me for suggesting a withdrawal in a situation where continued escalation would profit us nothing. Surely he did not expect me to simply carve my way through the Unicornian knights and quite likely the Archmagus herself, simply to remove young Midnight from her mother’s side? Or had he simply reached the point where his pride could not allow any withdrawal, however sensible?
Rightly held his condemning gaze ‘pon me for several seconds before he turned once more to Archmagus Sparkle. “I once more propose that your foal should be escorted to the ground, Archmagus. Let us not risk having a mere filly caught up in this clash. Surely you cannot argue that the Commander requires young Midnight’s presence here as part of thy duties. And after her departure, I think ‘twould not befit a true mother to abandon their foal for long.”
“You would threaten me through my own daughter?” Archmagus Sparkle let out an indignant cry, and unleashed a gout of fire that carved a channel through the clouds between our two forces. “It would seem, Rightly Doo, that your reputation for honor is naught but a lie!”
Rightly turned to me, his voice low and tense. “Prepare to disperse the clouds 'neath her, if necessary. The Archmagus oversteps herself with her threats.”
I could scarce credit my own ears. Though I’ve no love for the Archmagus, even I could see that she was being pressed far too hard. Her back was to the metaphorical wall, and she would not give ground. The only thing further efforts might accomplish would be to push tensions to a full explosion. “Rightly, we should withdraw for now. Let the Commander remove her peaceably in a few hours time, rather than force the issue at this moment. It will come to blows, at this rate.”
Rightly nodded to the freshly carved channel ‘twixt his own clanponies and the Unicornians. “A blow has been thrown, though it did not strike home. Regardless, the Grand Vizier of Unicornia has no cause to remain in Pegasopolis, and I’ll not indulge her presence a moment longer.”
“I am fully agreed on that point, but this is not the time, place, or manner in which we should press the issue,” I counseled him. “For now, I strongly urge thee to withdraw thy forces ere one of hers or one of thine own does something foolish, and blood is shed. One murder has caused us no end of grief, and thou wouldst add dozens more to the toll?”
Sunbeam Sparkle offered Rightly a mocking smile. “You would be most wise to listen to her, Ephor. Give way and return to thy clanhold, until such time as thou art capable of civilized discourse. I am sure Her Majesty has no need for the services of one who cannot even hold civil discourse.”
Rightly’s breath hissed through clenched teeth. I put a hoof to his shoulder and silently urged him to ignore the Archmagus’ barbs and remove himself from the field. To my dismay, he met my eyes and slowly shook his head. “I cannot let this stand, Shadow.” There was a tone of mingled determination and resignation in his voice that filled me with dread. “I’ll not be seen to withdraw like a beaten cur, tail ‘tween my legs. If that means that the matter must end in blood, then so be it. Equestria will only benefit from her demise at this juncture.”
I cast my eyes about, vainly searching for the only one I could think of who might be able to stay this madness. Where was Commander Celestia, when we had such great need of her? If anypony could defuse this situation before it descended fully into the realm of madness...
I must have spoken that thought aloud, or perhaps my thoughts were simply plain ‘pon my face to one who knew me as well as Rightly did. Whichever it was, he answered my thoughts. “Neigh, Shadow. 'Twas the Commander who began this misguided venture. ‘Twas she who granted the Archmagus her power, and endorses her every act by her continued tolerance. You cannot expect her to swoop in at a moment’s notice to chastise the servant she would favor above all Pegasopolis combined.”
Damnation. He was right, though. I could not simply stand about, wringing my hooves and hoping that the Commander would teleport into the midst of a heated situation and resolve everything, the way she does in far too many poorly-made theater productions.
I felt helpless. ‘Twas not a sensation I enjoyed. Events seemed to be spiraling madly out of control, and there was naught I could do to stay their course. I could not help but wonder if one of the old evils had somehow gained its freedom—’twould certainly explain why my fellow equines had all fallen to insanity. Why else would ephor and archmagus be on the verge of spilling each other’s blood?
But neigh, the only madness here was that of rising anger and distrust, and the Commander could not simply wave her hoof and remove the problem entirely. If there was to be an end to this rising madness before more ponies died because of it, that would come as a result of my actions.
I stepped forward and deliberately placed myself between the two groups of ponies. “All of thee, stand down! I'll not have anymore violence 'tween pegasus and unicorn! We do First Glance a poor service by shedding more blood in her name.”
I turned to face Sunbeam Sparkle and slowly approached her. The unicorns hesitated, but at a signal from their mistress they slowly stood aside rather than bar my path again. I forced myself to moderate my tone, keeping it as level and calm as possible. “Archmagus, I humbly ask that I might remove your daughter from a potentially hazardous situation and escort her to safety. You've my word of honor that I shall defend her life with my own, if needed.”
Archmagus Sparkle scrutinized me for several long moments, and the magic slowly faded from her horn. “Perhaps 'twould be wise, Ephor. It seems that Pegasopolis is not safe for any born with horns 'pon their heads.”
It shamed me to admit it, but I found myself forced to agree with her. I had never seen Rightly so unbridled before—I could only guess that First Glance’s accusation had deeply shaken him. Though I am biased in my opinion, I would number Rightly amongst the best that Pegasopolis had to offer. If his fury was so great that even he was on the verge of needless violence, then I shudder to think of the state that our less disciplined and moral compatriots must be in.
That I should find myself condemning my fellow pegasi, and e’en thinking that Sunbeam Sparkle herself seemed far more reasonable by comparison, was a distasteful thought indeed. What was becoming of my homeland, if I found the foal-slaying whorse more palatable company than the warriors I had shed blood and sweat alongside?
And yet, even as the thought horrified me, I could not deny the truth of it. This entire confrontation between Rightly and the Archmagus had been needless, and ‘twas Rightly who was largely responsible for its escalation. Though some of his provocations were unintended—I do not believe his mention of securing young Midnight should have been seen as a threat against her—it was nonetheless his words which pushed the Archmagus to the verge of violence in fear for the safety of herself and her daughter. Beyond that, he did fail to do all that he might have to defuse the rising tensions, and even seemed willing to push matters to violence rather than simply give ground and end the needless confrontation.
Rightly glowered at the Archmagus, brushing a hoof across his armor as he were removing a particularly troubling bit of offal. “Shadow, I trust that thou understandeth that expediency is worth its weight in thunderforged steel. Mayhap thou couldst speed thyself ‘pon thy task, ere this situation goes even more poorly.”
“I think all who have borne witness to this spectacle know that if anything unfortunate does occur, ‘twill be because you and your clan cannot restrain themselves from wanton murder of anypony born with a horn, not because Shadow moved too slowly.” Though I did not care for her barbed tongue, my annoyance with Archmagus Sparkle immediately redoubled when she turned to me and offered a gentle smile. “I thank thee, Shadow, for protecting me from thy fellow ephor. ‘Tis most pleasing to see that there are some in Pegasopolis who’ve not forgotten honor.”
Her approval filled me with shame.
The Archmagus turned to her daughter. “Midnight, thou shalt accompany Shadow to a place of safety.” With no further ado, she employed her magic to lift the young filly up and place her upon my back. “Be well, my daughter.”
Then Sunbeam Sparkle did something I would not have expected of her. She leaned over and kissed her daughter on the forehead. I grasped her true purpose a moment later, as one of her hooves brushed along my wing. ‘Twas a light enough touch that she could easily claim the contact to be accidental, but I knew such was not the case. She turned to me, a knowing smirk on her lips. “My apologies, Shadow.” She glanced over my shoulder at Rightly, who looked to be on verge of doing unto her as Valiant had done to First Glance.
Unacceptable. I might have silently endured the experience before, but that she would do such a thing to me merely to cause upset to Rightly was beyond what I could tolerate. My wing snapped out fetching her a sharp but relatively harmless blow with the flat of my blade. I offered her an apology every bit as sincere as the one she’d given me. “My apologies, Archmagus. My wings have a tendency to act on their own, at times. Particularly when they are unexpectedly touched.”
Sunbeam Sparkle brought a hoof up to rub her head where I’d struck her. After confirming that the only thing I might have wounded was her pride, she looked to me and gave a slight nod. “I’ll grant you that blow, Shadow, but ‘twould not be wise to take another.”
“My point has been made, Archmagus,” I answered her coolly.
“So it has.” Sunbeam Sparkle nodded to me. “Now, I pray thee, escort my daughter to Her Majesty’s side, so that I might be assured that she will be safe from any further violence ‘tween our breeds.” She glanced back to her daughter, and the barest moment I could swear that saw something almost maternal in her expression. “Keep her safe, Shadow.”
“I shall.” I turned about and made my way into the Commander’s residence proper. Though Rightly had expressed his wish to have the child taken to the ground, I felt that the Commander’s side made a far better location. E’en if I were inclined to remove the filly to the earth, I confess I had little idea of where she should be placed. Simply leaving the child to wander about beneath Cloudsdale seemed cruel, and taking her all the way back to Canterlot was hardly practical. For the moment, the Commander was the best caretaker I could conceive of. Though if I encountered Gale first, I might well leave the filly in her care instead.
Such concerns proved largely unimportant, for immediately upon my arrival I found myself facing Gale and Commander Celestia both, along with the Commander’s hetairoi . ‘Twould seem that the clash ‘tween Archmagus Sparkle and Rightly had not gone unobserved.
Gale stepped forward and took the filly off my back, giving her a brief embrace before transferring the girl to her own back. “Art thou well, young one?”
"I am well enough,” Midnight answered her tonelessly. “Nopony has tried to smite me as of yet, so the experience compares favorably to what passed in Manehatten.” She offered a listless shrug. “However, the day is young and blood will be shed ere it ends, I am sure.”
Gale frowned, then craned her neck about to give the child a quick nuzzle. “Thou needs not trouble thy mind with such things, little one. All will be well soon enough.”
Midnight met her gaze levelly. Though she said nothing, the simple look did much to convey her disbelief.
I judged the filly to be as well as one could ever say she was, given her oddities, and turned to the Commander in order to share my thoughts on the matter of her inaction. “Your presence, Commander, might have been useful for defusing the current crisis.”
Commander Celestia offered me a warm smile. “No doubt it would have. However, I had faith in thee to resolve the matter without the need for my intervention.”
“The matter is far from resolved, Commander,” I answered her testily.
If she noted the condemnation in my tone, the Commander did not allow herself to be bothered by it. “In that case, then, let us say that I continue to have faith in thy abilities. Fear not, my little pony, I shall be close at hoof to aid thee, if it should become needful. Thus far, however, thou hast performed most admirably in this matter.”
Did she see this whole affair as some opportunity to test my skills as a diplomat? Foolishness—pegasus and unicorn were on the verge of battle, and she would prefer to risk lives in the hopes that I might learn some valuable lesson in the process?
Though mayhap there was a certain method to this seeming madness. Already, Rightly and most likely some others ‘mongst my fellow pegasi felt that Commander Celestia favored the unicorns. If she were to intervene now in order to defuse the clash ‘tween the two breeds, ‘twould likely only heighten that resentment. Far better then that she maintain some degree of objectivity, so that she could act more effectively at a later time. The clash between Rightly and Archmagus Sparkle was but a symptom of the underlying tension, and one does not cure a disease by simply treating symptoms.
Still, despite the logic of it all, the Commander’s action sat ill with me. While maintaining objectivity and having faith in us to resolve our own problems seemed a reasonable enough stance, ‘twould be far better if she acted the role of Commander. Rather than maintaining neutrality, she should act to resolve matters by showing the pegasi under her command that she did not favor the unicorns unduly. If she were to simply take our side when we were in the right, then there would be no cause for anypony to fear that those of her subjects born with wings were unloved. “Commander, I must object to your stance of inaction. You could end this whole matter with a few simple words.”
“I could,” she agreed, “but at what cost? I would rather husband what moral authority I have, so that I might bring it to bear ‘pon the true matter at hoof rather than expend it merely treat a single symptom whilst the disease rages on. I still greatly desire to speak with the ephors, and I would prefer not to test their goodwill by publicly chastising one of their number for having an argument with my grand vizier.”
“It is pleasing to me to know that we will no longer be subject to public scorn when we take action for the good of all Equestria.” Shortly after I spoke the words, I had cause to regret them. “Forgive me, Commander. I should not have—”
Commander Celestia placed a hoof upon my shoulder and slowly shook her head. “Your words are harsh, but not unfair. In hindsight, I should have spoken with thee and thy fellow ephors in private regarding the matter of the griffons. I erred in that, and I apologize.” Though she did not say as much, I could also guess that her handling of the griffon matter contributed to her reluctance to act on this affair. Rightly’s pride was already stung from one public rebuke; adding a second would only deepen the wound.
I reluctantly conceded the matter with a nod. “So be it then, Commander. I’ll see to the end of this clash.”
“Thank you, Shadow.” She favored me with an affectionate smile. “Once matters are settled here, I would ask a boon of thee. ‘Tis clear that I have been too long distant from my winged subjects, and that they do not feel I have heard their voices or respected their ways.” Several of the hetairoi shifted uncomfortably at that statement. “Shadow, I believe that ‘twould be wise if I kept a pegasus close at hoof in the future, to advise me on such matters and ensure that I do not make such errors in the future. The position would be like unto the role Sunbeam serves for me in Unicornia.”
Though I had already guessed at what she intended to say next, I still felt a small bit of joy when she turned to me and said, “I would offer this position to thee, Shadow.”
There could only be one answer to such an offer. “Commander, ‘twould be honor to serve you in such a capacity.”
Moments after I had accepted, my mind turned to the practical problems of my new position. Obviously, I would need to find another to fill my position in the Ephorate and appoint somepony to manage the day-to-day affairs of the clan. If I was to stand at the Commander’s side in Canterlot, I could hardly expect to also fulfill any duties I might have in Pegasopolis. ‘Twould be an inconvenience, but one I would have little choice but to endure in order to serve the Commander and Equestria.
Such thoughts were for the future, however. ‘Twould not do to allow the current crisis to go unattended because my thoughts lingered on what was yet to come.
I exited the Commander’s Residence to find that the Doos had withdrawn a short distance away from the Archmagus and her party, to my immense relief. They were now huddled together and in the midst of heated conversation, presumably discussing their next move. Though I was inclined to join their discussion, I could not justify denying Archmagus Sparkle word of her daughter’s current disposition. With great reluctance, I returned to her side. “Your daughter is now in the care of mine, standing at Commander Celestia’s side. She could not be safer.”
The Archmagus offered me a very slight nod. “You have my thanks for that, Ephor.” She inclined her head towards the Doos. “It would seem that your fellow pegasi are in midst of planning something. I cannot fully determine what they plan, beyond the fact that the criminal made some manner of suggestion which excited the current debate.” She gave an uncaring shrug. “They’ll reveal their intentions soon enough, in any case.”
“Most likely.” I moved to join them, but hesitated after only a few steps. Rightly had seemed displeased with me, and current conference consisted solely of his clanponies. Would I be welcomed as a friend to the clan, as had always been the case in the past, or would I simply seem an unwelcome intruder, inserting myself into the affairs of Rightly’s own clan? While I am quite fond of Rightly, I would not care to see him interfere in my management of my clan—’twas likely he would feel much the same regarding my role in his clan’s affairs.
That hesitation cost me, for when the Doos broke conference to present their conclusions, I still stood near the Archmagus’ side. That earned me a displeased glance from Rightly, though I hastily shook my head and struggled to find some nonverbal way of conveying that I did not stand with Sunbeam Sparkle in this matter. ‘Twas simply that I stood where I did, and in this case it happened that the Archmagus was in a position near my own.
To my surprise, ‘twas Valiant Doo who spoke, rather than Rightly. “I have proposed, and my paterfamilias has accepted, that we resolve the matter of jurisdiction through juris ungula .”
“Of course,” the Archmagus murmured under her breath. “How else would pegasi solve a legal dispute, if not with a duel to the death?” (2)
2: While that is a bit of an exaggeration, in this case Sunbeam isn’t far from the truth: juris ungula was frequently used to resolve any difficult or complicated legal issues. This does have the advantage of allowing Pegasopolis to function without needing a large number of lawyers, since all the legal grey areas were sorted out with bloodshed instead of courtroom arguments. Naturally, there were varying levels of severity within juris ungula: very few ponies would want to fight a duel to the death over something like cloud allocation and distribution law. However, in Valiant’s case, given that the charge was murder, a duel to the death would be the normal precedent.
Sunbeam Sparkle frowned in thought, then turned to me. “I confess that while I’m quite familiar with the protocol for duels ‘tween unicorns, it has been some time since I had occasion to familiarize myself with Pegasopolis’ codes, or what protocol exists for a duel that crosses tribal lines. ‘Twould be most unwise to accept a duel ere I know the relevant statutes.”
Rightly’s displeasure grew at the sight of Archmagus Sparkle turning to me for advice, and I felt myself growing piqued with him. ‘Twas not as if I preferred Sunbeam Sparkle’s company to his own: I simply happened to be conveniently close at hoof to answer a perfectly valid legal question. Only a fool would agree to a duel when they did not even know the rules of the contest.
Speaking of fools and their follies, the one soldier who’d challenged my approach to the Archmagus stepped forward. “If ‘tis a duel that you wish for, then so be it. ‘Twould be my honor to stand for Unicornia in this matter.” The young stallion turned to Valiant and met his eyes. “Know that you will have the honor of dying ‘pon the blade of Magus Daylight Shimmer, ruffian.”
“A magus, art thou?” Valiant grinned at the impulsive young soldier. “I’ve not slain a magus before. That should prove an interesting experience.”
Whilst the two young stallions went through the usual preliminaries of issuing threats and bragging of their prowess, I noted Archmagus Sparkle shooting a pointed glower at Radiant Day. A few moments later the knight stepped forward, and put a hoof on the younger magus’ shoulders. “Daylight, if thou wouldst, allow me to stand ‘gainst this criminal. First Glance was assigned to my command, ‘tis fitting that I be the one to avenge her.”
Daylight Shimmer regarded the knight, and slowly shook his head. “While I’ve no shortage of respect for thee, sir, I’ve reasons of my own to stand for Unicornia in this matter, and as a magus I hold precedence over thee in this matter.”
“That you do,” Radiant conceded with a slight nod. “Which is why I have asked thee to withdraw thy challenge and stand aside, my friend.”
The stallion considered this offer for a moment, then slowly shook his head. “Neigh, I cannot. Not even for thee. ‘Tis a matter of honor.”
I struggled ‘gainst the urge to let out a snort. I could guess the honor which concerned young Daylight easily enough. The stallion was young enough that I would hazard he was new to his rank as a magus. (3) No doubt, like many young ponies fresh into their service to Equestria, he was eager to prove himself and gain the attention of his superiors. The chance to fight a duel ‘gainst a murderer for the honor of all Unicornia must have seemed a golden opportunity to make his mark.
3: For the Unicornian military, the magi stood outside the formal chain of command. All things considered, the magi were something of an anomaly in antebellum Unicornia, as they prized magical ability above all other factors, including station of birth. While in practice noble-born magi benefited immensely from their families’ wealth and connections, Sunbeam Sparkle was not the first pony of common birth to hold the title of Archmagus . Because of their place outside the traditional norms of Unicornian society, a common-born magus like Daylight Shimmer could claim social precedence over a noble-born knight like Radiant Day.
Radiant regarded his young friend for a long moment, then sighed and shook his head. “So be it then. I will stand as thy second, though.”
Daylight offered his friend an easy smile and clapped a hoof onto his shoulder. “I can think of no other pony I would rather have at my side.”
I thought the matter settled with that, until I heard Archmagus Sparkle hiss out several particularly foul oaths under her breath. “That damned idiot is going to get himself killed.” She cleared her throat, and then loudly announced. “While I commend Daylight for his enthusiasm, I am afraid that I cannot permit him to stand for Unicornia in this matter. I will accept Valiant Doo’s challenge personally.”
Deathly silence descended over the crowd following this announcement. I was no less stunned: ‘twas most unusual for an official as high-ranking as the Archmagus herself to personally commit to a duel, especially against a common criminal. I might have thought she simply sought to hoard the honor gained from victory to herself, had I not seen her reaction to Daylight Shimmer’s acceptance of the challenge. I could only come to one conclusion: she had entered the duel to prevent him from fighting. But why?
An intriguing enigma. I would have to set Gale to the task at some point. Assuming Sunbeam Sparkle survived the contest, of course.
We assembled at the training yard attached to the Commander’s Residence to witness the match between Sunbeam Sparkle and Valiant Doo. As Archmagus Sparkle needed to be informed of the rules for juris ungula and a few modifications needed to be made to the training fields for the duel, there was more than enough time for word of the battle to spread. Every worthy figure in Cloudsdale, with the notable exception of Commander Celestia, turned out to witness the battle. For the Commander’s part, I suspected she had no desire to bear witness to the bloodsport.
I naturally found a suitable location to witness the match near my fellow ephors. Rightly still remained cold towards me, though mayhap ‘twas simply that we had not time to truly discuss the recent events with the battle now looming. Given that one of his own was to be engaged in battle, he most likely had other, far more pressing concerns than the sorrows of a single mare. Still, it did not please me to feel this distance ‘tween us.
The conversation unsurprisingly focused upon the upcoming match. Bright Charger seemed particularly enthused by the coming clash, likely because she had a keen interest in dueling. She’d lost a fair portion of her left ear in one such contest, but the wound had done nothing to curb her enthusiasm. “So, the archfiend has been brought to battle, has she? Good, I had half a mind to challenge her myself after what her agents did.” Bright Charger turned to Rightly. “How dost thou like thy stallion’s chances?”
Rightly considered the matter, and offered a shrug. “Valiant is a skilled warrior, but I’ve not had the opportunity to see the breadth of Archmagus Sparkle’s talents. ‘Tis difficult to predict an outcome when one pony’s abilities are unknown.” He frowned out at the field, and his voice turned cold. “Still, if he falls, my clan has lost a criminal. If she perishes, an enemy is removed. I consider both outcomes more than acceptable.” His voice took a dark turn as he murmured. “Though if he wins, my clan might well insist that I honor him as a hero rather than give him the noose he deserves.”
Steel glanced at him. “Trouble?”
“Nothing worth speaking of,” Rightly responded. “He refused my offer of a blade to end his dishonor. Some within the clan felt I should not have made the offer to begin with.”
Swift Blade turned to me, and shifted the topic back to the matter at hoof instead of Rightly’s difficulties within his own clan. “Shadow, you know Archmagus Sparkle the best of us all. What do you think of her chances?”
Rightly let a faint grumble that inspired utter incredulity in me. Surely he could not be jealous? Though ‘twas sadly true that of late, I’ve had more time in the company of Archmagus Sparkle than that of dear Rightly. A thought that only grew more unpleasant as I realized the new duties Commander Celestia intended for me would ensure that such would be the case for some time to come.
I could hardly afford such maudlin thoughts at the moment though, with Swift awaiting his answer. “Though it gives me no pleasure to say it, ‘tis likely that the Archmagus will triumph.” Rightly let out another grunt. He truly was jealous! I might have been amused by this, under better circumstances. “I’ve had my sources gather what knowledge they could regarding her history, and it included a number of duels with political rivals. It seems she is rather fond of the opportunity to commit legally sanctioned murder.”
“She’s an experienced duelist, then?” Bright leaned forward to have a better view of the field. “Well, ‘tis likely Valiant will fall then, unless luck favors him. At least in his passing he might offer me some insight into how she battles.”
“You intend to challenge her, then?” Swift Blade asked.
Bright Charger thought on it, and gave a noncommittal gesture. “If she lingers much longer in Cloudsdale, I expect she’ll give me proper cause to.”
“Stupid,” Steel grunted. “Mages are dangerous.”
“I’ve fought magic-users before,” Bright answered with a nonchalant shrug. “They have no shortage of cunning spells and underhooved tricks, but a lance through the chest will claim their lives just as ‘twould any other’s. More easily, even, once one finds the opportunity to actually strike home. ‘Tis my experience that most spellweavers rely on their magic exclusively for combat. When it proves ineffective, they are at a loss for what to do next.”
“I expect a unicorn archmagus will be several orders of magnitude more dangerous than whatever foreign shamans or dabblers in dark magic you’ve faced in the past,” Swift Blade answered her, wearing a faint frown.
“We shall see soon enough,” Steel grunted. “They begin.”
True to his words, the duelists stepped onto the field, each accompanied by their second. Valiant had the air of a confident young stallion, certain that he was about to cement his place as the slayer of the hated Archmagus of Canterlot. For her part, Sunbeam Sparkle regarded the young stallion with a faintly amused smirk, as if the upcoming battle were naught but a jest. Given what Gale had learned of her capabilities, that did not strike me as an inaccurate summation of the situation.
Shortly after the duel began in earnest, the joke became apparent to us all.
Scarcely had the arbiter announced the start before her horn flashed green, and Valiant’s mane and tail caught fire. The stallion gave a startled cry and hastily drew back, quickly dousing the fires in a nearby cloud. Archmagus Sparkle simply sat back and watched as he did so, letting the opportunity to end the duel quickly pass by.
“She’s toying with him,” Bright remarked. “She is a confident one. Still, that gives Valiant a chance—she won’t kill him until she’s finished having her fun, and the longer the duel goes on, the more likely it is that she’ll make some error that gives him an opening.”
Valiant Doo, his pride stung, charged the Archmagus. He made all of three steps before she snatched him up in her magical grasp, holding him suspended and helpless in the air. Then, she removed the armor from his hindquarters, and with a quick flash of fire scorched his coat away, revealing the red freshly singed skin beneath to all of Cloudsdale.
Then she magically drew him in, and proceeded to strike him several times as if he were naught but an unruly foal. A few chuckles rang out from the crowd, but for the most part we were content to silently witness his shame. Clearly, Sunbeam Sparkle intended to wound the young stallion in the most grievous way she could: the young do not fear death, especially not when they think that they will die for some noble cause. Thus, she targeted his pride, and stripped it from him entirely.
Sunbeam Sparkle at last released her victim, who was by now on the verge of shedding tears from his humiliation and helpless fury. “Enough!” He cried out. “I’ll not be made a mockery of! Face me as a warrior!”
The Archmagus gave him a slight nod. “So be it then. Thou hast ceased to amuse me. Let us end it.” She stood, ready to receive his charge.
Valiant, his reason all but stripped from him by shame and rage, charged directly for her and lashed out at her head with his forehooves. To his surprise, she made no effort dodge or block his attack, but simply stood and allowed him to strike.
Why she did this became clear a moment later, as his hooves passed effortlessly through her body. ‘Twas but an illusion. Or perhaps ‘twas more than a mere figment of light and sound, for a moment after Valiant’s blow struck home, the doppelganger offered a faintly mocking laugh, and exploded.
Valiant was flung halfway across the dueling field, his olive green Doo armor blacked along with a portion of his flesh. The stallion lay on the ground, apparently stunned by the force of the blast.
Once ‘twas clear he was unlikely to rise for the moment, what I presumed to be the real Sunbeam Sparkle revealed herself, dropping whatever spell had rendered her invisible and stepping up to put a single hoof on Valiant’s throat. “Thou art beaten. Yield.”
“Never,” the proud young stallion croaked out, slowly managing to pull away from her and struggle to his hooves once more. “Kill me, if thou canst, but I’ll not give thee the pleasure of making me yield.”
Archmagus Sparkle pursed her lips and tapped a hoof against her chin. “Ah, but thou must. ‘Tis unfortunate, but by Her Majesty’s command I am not permitted to kill anypony in a duel. I’ll not become an oathbreaker on thy account.”
“Then thou must yield to me or give up thy own life,” Valiant growled out, finally succeeding in rising to his hooves. “For I’ll never yield to thee.”
Sunbeam let out a chuckle that dripped with pure malice, and teasingly stroked Valiant’s cheek with her hoof. “Ah, but thou shalt.”
Her horn flashed, and in the space of a moment Valiant’s wings were burnt to a cinder.
“While I’m not permitted to kill thee,” the Archmagus began, once more wearing that faintly mocking smile she’d begun the battle with, “thou shalt discover that ponies can survive a great many things.”
Valiant Doo was as brave as his name suggests, and filled with the stubborn pride of youth. It took less than a minute for Sunbeam Sparkle to make him yield. He would take his own life shortly thereafter, rather than live out his remaining days as a blind, crippled eunuch.
It need hardly be said that Rightly was displeased by the match’s outcome, despite his earlier apathy. “Had I known the depths of Unicornian depravity, I would have given Valiant a proper death myself and simply surrendered his head to Archmagus.” He gave a dark look towards the Commander’s Residence. “I was not aware that Celestia employed fiends in pony form, let alone numbered them amongst her closest advisors.”
Bright Charger gave a sharp nod. “She would be wise to remove her magus from Cloudsdale as quickly as possible if she wishes to retain the beast’s services after this latest display. I’m not in the habit of allowing monsters to live once they’ve revealed themselves.”
“Still want to fight her?” Steel inquired. “After that? Brave. Or stupid.”
Bright Charger let out a snort. “I see before me a threat to Equestria. ‘Tis my duty to end that threat. That this one sits at Celestia’s side rather than rampaging wildly through the countryside is an insignificant detail.”
While I could not disagree with Bright Charger’s reasoning, something about the tone of her conversation set me ill at ease. ‘Twas a moment before I grasped what it was: she and Rightly both had not used Commander Celestia’s rank when saying her name. ‘Twas not uncommon to simply use her name in casual conversation, but in this case the absence of her title carried a far more troubling implication—one that was not helped by the fact that the ephorate was making its way to the Residence in order to present our grievances to her. At the time it boded ill, and with the benefit of hindsight I know it to be an ominous portent of what was to come.
We arrived at the Residence to find that Archmagus Sparkle had arrived before us, and even had sufficient time to cleanse herself of Valiant’s blood, though there was still a faint coppery tinge to the air. The Commander glanced up at us, then returned her attention to her grand vizier, fixing the unicorn with a displeased glower. “I shall be with thee momentarily, my ephors. However, there is another matter I must address regarding my Archmagus and certain liberties she has taken.”
Sunbeam Sparkle’s expression remained carefully neutral, but I noticed a slight twitch in her ears at the Commander’s words. When she spoke, there was a slightly harried tone to her voice. “Your Majesty, I did as you asked. I—”
“Neigh!” The Commander cut her off with an angry stomp of one of her forehooves. “Thou didst fulfill the letter of my wishes whilst ignoring the intention behind them. Didst thou truly think I would be unaware of such a thing? That I would tolerate this crime simply because thou didst find a clever loophole within my orders?”
Archmagus Sparkle took an instinctive step back from the Commander’s fury. “But Your Majesty, I—”
“There is no excuse!” Commander Celestia snapped at her. “None.” She held a glare on the Archmagus for several seconds, and spoke with a coldness I was unused to seeing from her. “I have overlooked some of thy more questionable acts, because ‘twas clear that thou didst seek good ends. Do not make me regret that choice. Bear in mind, Sunbeam, that the grand vizier serves at the pleasure of the throne, and at this time I am most displeased with thee.”
I cannot deny that it gladdened my heart to see Archmagus Sparkle standing cowed before the Commander. ‘Twas richly deserved and long overdue. I could not help but wonder if the Commander had pointedly delayed the scolding until our arrival, so that we might bear witness to Sunbeam Sparkle’s shaming. If ‘twas a deliberately planned move, then ‘twas a wise one, for it did much to soften the blow of her previous reprimand to the ephorate.
A glance at my fellow ephors confirmed that they all shared my thoughts on the matter. ‘Twould seem that while they’d had little occasion to interact with Archmagus Sparkle compared to me, they’d quickly come to share my opinion of her. Given the atrocity we’d just witnessed, that came as no surprise.
Rightly stepped forward and cleared his throat. “Commander Celestia, if I might, the ephorate has matters we would discuss with you.” He delivered a pointed look to Sunbeam Sparkle. “Pegasopolian matters.”
“I see.” The Commander turned to her Archmagus. “Leave us.”
Archmagus Sparkle gave a start at the command. “But, Your Majesty, I—”
Commander Celestia said nothing, she simply met Sunbeam Sparkle’s eyes with her own, and once more I felt that odd sense of ... presence to her, as I had during her confrontation with the griffon ambassador. How exactly her manner shifted to bring about this change is a difficult to put into words. Suffice to say, for a moment all in the room were intensely aware of the depths of her power and authority. While she spoke in the same gentle tone she normally used in casual conversation, the air of authority lent her words the strength of adamantium. “Leave us, Sunbeam. We no longer require your services.”
Not even one such as Sunbeam Sparkle could fail to be shaken by the full weight of the Commander’s displeasure. “As...” She paused and gave a nervous swallow, showing a level of hesitancy that I had never seen from her before. “As Her Majesty commands, so shall it be.” The Archmagus beat a hasty retreat, and good riddance to her. If fate was kind, the Commander would shortly dismiss the foul wretch from her service, that we might be spared the burden of her company.
Sadly, I did not think that terribly likely. Whilst Gale was not yet fully appraised of the goings-on within the Unicornian Court, she had learned enough to know that ‘twas not unusual for Archmagus Sparkle’s standing in the Commander’s eyes to wax and wane over time. However, much like the roaches she shared so much in common with, Sunbeam Sparkle had proven remarkably difficult to end entirely. Each time she fell into disfavor, she inevitably found some means by which she might win her way back into Commander Celestia’s good graces. Still, even a short reprieve from her presence would be welcome.
Once Archmagus Sparkle had fully left the room, Commander Celestia turned to us, an open, pleasant smile on her face. “Now then, my faithful ephors, what didst thou wish to discuss with me?”
There was a brief, somewhat awkward silence. Now that the cause of most of our complaints had been dismissed, I was at somewhat of a loss for how to proceed. I suspect the other ephors were in a similar state. I had always attributed the bulk of the Commander’s more questionable choices to Archmagus Sparkle’s malign influence. If that influence were now ended, what further cause had I for complaint?
“Biggest problem’s already fixed,” Steel softly murmured under his breath. “Progress.”
That drew a low murmur of agreement from the rest of us. In truth, I might have been content to simply see the matter ended there, for the moment. While I was not entirely satisfied with the Commander’s performance of late, ‘tween her dismissal of Sunbeam Sparkle and her offer to me ‘twas clear that she was displeased with how events had developed as well, and intended to take the measures required to correct this problem. Still, there was no harm in at least laying out the full sum of our concerns, if only so that she might know how best to proceed in addressing them.
Once more, Rightly stepped forward and spoke for us. “Commander Celestia, the ephorate feels that the current Clipping investigations are a travesty and an insult to all Pegasopolis. We object to this in the strongest possible terms, and ask for an immediate cessation of this inquisition.”
The Commander heard his words, and slowly nodded. “I am not satisfied with the performance of my inspectors either, my ephors.” She looked to the side, and let out a pensive sigh. “I have erred, ‘twould seem, in this matter by acting too swiftly. I confess that when the news of the atrocity perpetrated against Swiftwing Striker reached my ears, I became wroth. Sorely wroth. The thought of a mere filly being subjected to such mistreatment...” The Commander trailed off, and I noted the clouds ‘neath her hooves trembling for a moment before she regained her composure. “However, ‘twould seem that in my eagerness to ensure that no such crimes were being perpetrated within my domain, I acted with insufficient preparation. The result is as thou hast seen.” She fell silent for a long moment, then gave a single sharp nod. “It is decided, then. The inspections are to be suspended, until such time as I have reason to believe that they can be performed in a satisfactory manner.”
This, at last, was the Commander I’d hoped to see ever since her arrival in Pegasopolis. Taking swift and decisive action to address the problems we suffered. I could only imagine my fellow ephors were every bit as pleased as I was by this declaration.
“Furthermore,” Commander Celestia continued, gesturing for me to step forward, which I did. “I intend to take measures to ensure that much miscommunication between myself and my faithful servants in the ephorate never occurs again.” I stepped up to the Commander’s side, and she let a single surprisingly warm hoof rest over my shoulder. “To that end, I have asked that Shadow accompany me ‘pon my return to Canterlot, to remain close at hoof that I might know the wishes of the ephorate on all matters of interest pertaining to Pegasopolis, and so that she might convey my wishes to thee more easily and clearly than ‘twould be possible through mere letters and couriers.” A faint smile crossed her lips as she added. “One could say that she will be to Pegasopolis much as Sunbeam Sparkle was to Unicornia, though I’ve reason to expect that I shall be far more satisfied with Shadow’s performance.
“Lastly, I would like to apologize for my handling of the Westmarch affair and my general absence from Pegasopolan affairs.” Commander Celestia offered a very slight bow to my fellow ephors. “I confess that I am far too distant from my winged subjects. While I shared the throne with my sister, I became accustomed to leaving Pegasopolis in her care. After her ... departure, I found the thought of ruling over her former domain, taking up her titles and even moving into her former residence ... painful.”
For a moment, I was tempted to offer some gesture of support to the Commander; ‘twas clear that speaking of her sister pained her. A small thing, like a hoof on her shoulder or even something as simple as moving so that I stood nearer to her side. However, ‘twas but a passing fancy, and one best ignored. Commander Celestia was no ordinary pony, and treating her as such would be an insult to her station. She was my Commander, and I was her ephor. To act so familiarly with her would be inappropriate—especially in the presence of my fellow ephors.
Additionally, such a display would only serve to call attention to her grief. Such pains as the loss of one’s family are not a thing to put on display for all to see. ‘Tis unseemly to make a great public spectacle of such private pains.
I shook myself from such unbecoming thoughts, and turned my attention to my fellow ephors, eager to see their reaction to the Commander’s proposals. For my part, I could not be happier. Yes, she had erred in some of her rulings, but she had clearly grasped as much and now intended to make matters right. The mark of a great commander is not perfection, for nopony can manage that, but a willingness to confront one’s failings, and take the appropriate measures to correct them. Commander Celestia had done precisely that.
Thus, it was with some surprise that I discovered that my fellow ephors were not sharing approving smiles and grateful nods, but rather were exchanging glances with each other whilst wearing troubled frowns. I did not understand. How could they still be so discontent, when Commander Celestia had heard all that we said, and made clear her intention to address our concerns?
Finally, Steel Striker shed some light on what troubled them. “The inspections will continue?”
Commander Celestia frowned and offered him a short nod. “The inspections will resume once I feel that they can be conducted in a manner consistent with the ideals of Equestria and Pegasopolis, and a fully-qualified staff of inspectors from all three of the pony tribes has been assembled.”
“So we are still to be subjected to these intrusions?” Bright Charger stepped forward and had the gall to actually scowl at Commander Celestia. “We shall still have the other tribes subject us to this indignity? We do not go their cities and criticize their ways! ‘Tis not fitting that we be forced to endure such humiliations. For all your talk of reform, Commander, I see little true change offered. It matters little to me whether all the proper forms are submitted in the process of having our nation treated as if we were a collection of abusers.” Bright reared up and slammed her forehooves ‘gainst the clouds. “I hear your offer, and deem it insufficient. The inspections must be ended now, and permanently. A properly performed travesty is still a travesty.”
Commander Celestia let out a patient sigh. “I have heard the ephorate’s concerns on this matter, and will continue to do so. I will do everything within my power to ensure that the investigation is performed in a manner that does not dishonor Pegasopolis.” The Commander met Bright Charger’s gaze, and her eyes hardened. “However, I will not end the investigation so long as the question of whether there are young colts and fillies being mistreated, being mutilated , within my realm remains unanswered. I will not allow such a crime to go unpunished, even if doing so upsets my faithful ephors.”
Rightly stepped forward and politely cleared his throat. “Respectfully, Commander, I—”
Commander Celestia cut him off with a simple wave of her hoof. “The matter is closed, Rightly. The ephorate has presented its position and I’ve given my answer. If it displeases thee and thy fellow ephors, then I am sorry for that. While I shall accommodate all reasonable requests from the ephorate, I cannot allow the inspections to come to a permanent end until their work is completed. Would you have it said that there are crimes against foals occurring in Pegasopolis?”
“We would not have such a thing said at all,” Swift Blade answered her. “Which is why we wish for the investigation to end. By its very existence, this inquisition implies that Pegasopolis has somehow failed to adequately enforce its own laws.” The stallion let out a soft little cough and cleared his throat. “But as you wish no further discussion on this subject, let us move on to other matters.” He turned to me and offered a very slight nod before continuing. “Whilst Shadow Kicker has offered the ephorate fine service since joining our numbers, she is still the most junior member. Considering the nature of this new position you intend to create in Canterlot, choosing her to occupy that post goes against precedent.” (4)
4: Much like the modern Guard, the Pegasopolans weighed the seniority of soldiers heavily when it came to assigning promotions. While the abilities of the pony in question were naturally important as well, as a general rule whenever two candidates were relatively equal, the promotion should go to the longer-serving of the two. By selecting Shadow, Celestia implicitly stated that she was significantly more qualified than all of the other candidates who were more senior than her.
“If the Commander wishes for an advisor on Pegasopolan affairs,” Rightly began, “would it not be wiser to choose from ‘mongst the gerousia? Their sole purpose is to advise you on Pegasopolan affairs. While some of them are too aged to make the journey to Canterlot easily, most are still not so old that they cannot offer you many years of good service. Shadow’s own father, even.” A faint frown crossed his face. “It seems a disservice to the ponies who’ve dedicated the remaining years of their life to advising you to choose one who is not a member of their ranks.”
Commander Celestia’s eyes widened at the stream of objections. “No offense to thee or the fine members of the ephorate was intended by my choice, my faithful ephors.” Her gaze shifted down to me for a brief moment. “I made the offer to Shadow simply because her duties have brought her frequently to Canterlot of late. It seemed sensible to offer the post to one who is already somewhat familiar with the city and the nature of my royal court.”
Bright let out a derisive snort. “It may be Unicornian tradition to elevate one so seemingly malleable to a position of influence, but attempting to do so with Shadow does as much an insult to her as it does to her honored father and the other geronts.”
“As I’ve stated, that was not my intention,” the Commander said. “I simply chose the pony I thought could assume these new duties with the most ease.”
“Perhaps in the future, Commander, you should take a moment to familiarize yourself with Pegasopolian customs before you assign offices.” I was stunned by the open hostility in Swift Blade’s voice. There was a harshness to his tone that was entirely improper for a pony who was addressing a superior officer.
Commander Celestia could not have missed the naked insubordination in his voice. “Enough!” She slammed a hoof ‘gainst the clouds with near sufficient force to disperse the floor ‘neath her. “We have answered thy concerns and made more than reasonable concessions, and yet all thou hast done in response is raise fresh complaints and attempt to twist our words against us!”
The other ephors fell silent for some time in the aftermath of Commander Celestia’s brief outburst, until Steel Striker ended the quiet. “‘We? Our?’ Telling.”
It took a moment for me to grasp what he meant. In her frustration with the ephors’ obstinacy, the Commander had reverted to the speech patterns she had grown accustomed to using during her extended stay in Unicornia. Including referring to herself in the plural.
“Are we to be commanded to kneel before her and grovel like dogs next?” Bright Charger loudly grumbled. “That is the way of unicorns, is it not?”
Rightly let out a sharp nod, accompanied a snort. “Pegasi do not bend their knees for anypony.”
I could not let these remarks pass unchallenged. “Rightly, she simply misspoke. ‘Tis hardly a shocking thing in such a tense discussion.”
“Neigh, ‘tis not shocking at all,” Swift Blade agreed, though the deep scowl on his face ensured that his words would bring me no comfort. “And that I am unsurprised by this speaks volumes.” He closed his eyes, and took a single deep breath. “Though I regret that such an act is needful, ‘twould seem that we have no choice in the matter, my friends. We must proceed as we feared.”
Bright Charger gave a flick of her wings. “So it would seem.” She met Commander Celestia’s eyes as she spoke the damning words. “I move that Celestia of Unicornia be removed from the post of Commander of Pegasopolis, on grounds of gross incompetence and dereliction of duty.”
I could scarce believe my ears.
“I second the motion,” Swift Blade responded.
“Agreed,” Steel voted.
I looked to the Commander, only to find her jaw hanging open, an utterly stunned expression on her face. ‘Twould seem the move had caught her utterly unawares.
“This is madness!” I all but shouted at them. “You would remove the pony who has ably served as Commander for more than a century simply because she used the wrong pronoun in a moment of frustration?”
I turned to dear Rightly. “Surely you cannot approve of this course?” There was yet hope to end this. By the old laws, a commander could only be removed if four of the ephors voted in favor of that action. One does not remove the leader of all Pegasopolis with a mere majority vote. If I could but make Rightly see reason, the Commander would retain her post, however troubled. He could not be party to this conspiracy, not my dear Rightly...
He met my eyes, and gave a slight shake of his head. “I cast my vote in favor. The motion is carried.” He turned to Celestia, his tone coldly formal. “Queen Celestia, the ephorate asks that you vacate the Commander’s Residence at your earliest possible convenience. If you feel the need to remain in Pegasopolis long enough to conclude your affairs, we’ve quarters set aside for visiting foreign dignitaries.”
The world had gone mad.
As soon as I could politely excuse myself from my fellow ephors, I sought out Commander Celestia. Whilst the title might no longer be hers in the eyes of the law, I suspect ‘twould be some time before I could bring myself to think of her in any other way.
I found her within the Commander’s Residence, gathering her followers and belongings as she made ready to depart. Archmagus Sparkle was, thankfully, notable only by her absence. Several lesser unicorn officials milled about the room, and my own entrance drew no shortage of hostile stares, but Celestia was quick to put an end to such displays. “Leave us. We would have words with Shadow in privacy.” Her servants were quick to follow her wishes.
Once ‘twas but the two of us in the room, I spoke my mind. “Commander, I offer you the hospitality of my clanhold for the remainder of your stay in Pegasopolis.” Whilst Cloudsdale did have lodgings set aside for visiting foreigners, they were sparse even by our own standards. Traditionally, visitors of any importance would quarter with one of the major clans, enjoying their hospitality. Clearly, my fellow Ephors would not make an offer to her after they had so recently deposed her, and I would not see her dwelling in a building more suited to common soldiery and visiting messengers than the true Commander of all Pegasopolis.
Commander Celestia gave a rueful shake of her head. “I have said before, Shadow, that in privacy thou might address me merely by my name.” Her ears fell flat and a haunted look crossed her eyes as she added. “And ‘twould not be wise to address me a by a title that I no longer possess. ‘Twould go poorly if thy fellows were to hear thee speak so.”
“If my words would offend some, then so be it. You are my commander, now and always.” I stepped forward and offered a salute.
“Neigh.” Commander Celestia gave a sad shake of her head. “Whilst thy loyalty is greatly appreciated, Shadow, that title has been taken from me in accordance to Pegasopolan law.” She turned from me, walking to one of the room’s windows and gazing out at the city. “And though it shames me to admit it, I cannot even bring myself to say that the Ephorate was wrong to act as it did. I have erred in my rule over Pegasopolis. Badly erred. I have taken thy loyalty for granted far too long, and this is the result.”
Her gaze drifted upwards, until it lay upon the very sun she controlled. Though ‘twas hardly surprising given her nature, I was still struck by the fact that she seemed untroubled by staring directly at the sun for an extended time. “It is said by many that I am like unto a goddess. All-powerful. All-knowing. Flawless. Would that such things were true.” She let out a heavy sigh. “I wonder if perhaps I have allowed myself to listen to such foolish talk for too long. If on some level, I began to fancy that such things were true. If I have forgotten what I truly am.”
She gave a bitter little laugh. “A goddess? ‘Tis a poor jest indeed.” She turned from the window and once more faced me. “The truth is far less flattering. I am simply a very silly alicorn, who once had a very clever idea: the creation of a mantle of power, drawn from the sun’s own energy. A feat anypony else might have managed, had they sufficient knowledge and magical skill. A mantle anypony might wield now, were they granted it. There are many, I suspect, who would use that power more ably than I.” She fell silent for a time, undoubtedly drawing 'pon memories more ancient than even my father's grandfather. “I’ve far greater knowledge than any ordinary pony, aye, but I’ve found little joy in that. In truth, my knowledge often only serves to make that which I am ignorant of all the more obvious. Clearly, my great wisdom does not extend to the realm of proper governance.” Her head fell, her eyes fixed ‘pon the clouds beneath her. “And yet, I am named a goddess. As I said, ‘tis a jest.”
I struggled to find the words with which to answer her. I was unaccustomed to seeing my Commander in a state of such melancholy. ‘Twas unsurprising, in the wake of her removal from power, but it still cast her in a light which I was unaccustomed to seeing. She spoke to me not as Commander, Queen, or Chancellor, but merely as Celestia. ‘Twas a most disturbing thing. “Does it pain you so much, to have a title you seldom exercised taken from you?”
“It is not a matter of titles,” she answered me. “In truth, it matters little to me whether my subjects name me Queen, Commander, Chancellor, or Fool. All have been quite applicable at times. I think I could be quite content were I to cease ruling over Equestria and devote my days to simply travelling Equestria, performing whatever manner of foolery came to mind. If I am truly honest, I suspect I would enjoy such a thing far more than my current duties.” She gave a resigned shake of her head. “Alas, I was born into royalty, and must take up the burden of leadership. What pains me is not a matter of titles and honors, but one of failure. I have failed my subjects. Failed them so badly that now they no longer believe me capable of ruling over them.”
“Com—” I caught and corrected myself, lest my words cause her further pain. “Celestia, that is not the way of it. The discontent within Pegasopolis is directed towards Sunbeam Sparkle, and only reflects upon you on her account. Once tempers have had time to cool...”
Celestia gave a single shake of her head. “Neigh, the ephors had the right of the matter. She is—was my grand vizier. A pony I chose despite her flaws, despite knowing full well the depths of her ... unsoundness.” (1)
1: While psychology was in its infancy at the time, several accounts of Sunbeam Sparkle make reference to her being mentally damaged or unsound. Most modern experts believe she suffered from some variety of antisocial personality disorder. Although making a proper diagnosis from a few biographical accounts is obviously impossible, her behavior in Shadow’s memoirs and her daughter’s is usually consistent with such a diagnosis.
Though I was pleased to hear that Celestia had seemingly chosen to dismiss Sunbeam Sparkle from her service, I could not help but wonder at why she had even entered it to begin with. “If she is so flawed, then why make her your vizier?”
“Because of an idea,” the Commander answered me simply. “A foolish one, perhaps, but one that has troubled my mind frequently of late. Ever since my own sister’s ... troubles.” A pained grimace crossed her face at the mention of Luna, but it quickly passed. “For all the trouble that the likes of Discord and Sombra have caused, ‘twas Luna’s turning which struck the deadliest blow against Equestria. Dost thou grasp why this should be?”
The answer was obvious enough once I gave it a moment’s thought. “Not only did a great new evil emerge, but Equestria lost one of its staunchest defenders in the process.”
“Just so.” The Commander offered me a slow, pained nod. “The greatest victory one can gain is not the destruction of one’s enemies, but their conversion. To take their strength and make it one’s own. It is a lesson I learned at great cost, and now hope to apply to other arenas.”
I grasped her meaning easily enough. Sunbeam Sparkle was, to all appearances, an utterly wicked and foul mare. Ruthless, ambitious, and magically powerful. I cannot imagine that her naked lust for power would go unsatisfied if the Commander had denied her access to it through legitimate means. “Was that your purpose in employing her, then? To take one who had the potential to become a great evil, and use her strength for the betterment of Equestria?”
“Aye,” she confessed. “To take a mare who seemed destined to become a villain, and forge her into something better. ‘Twas a noble thought, but I do not think I succeeded in the endeavour. Not fully, at least. I hoped to turn her into a good mare, and all I’ve succeeded in doing is making her an evil mare in the service of a good one.” She let out a pained sigh. “Every time I begin to think that she might finally have taken it upon herself to cease her wicked ways, she enacts some new depravity. I grow tired of daring to hope, only to be bitterly disappointed in the end.”
“If that is the case, then why have you waited so long to dismiss her from your service?” I asked of her. “Why continue to allow her into such a position of power and favor?”
“Because of that hope which I could not bear to release.” Celestia sighed and gave a bitter shake of her head. “Because I was so fixed upon the idea of turning a villain into a good pony that I could not bring myself to face the painful truth.” She gave a disgusted little snort. “There are times when I can barely stand the sight of her. When it takes all the self-control I possess not to cast her into some pit alongside every other abomination I’ve faced, to linger in darkness until she is utterly forgotten. She fancies herself my stalking horse, the mare who does those things which I cannot or will not bring myself to do. That she might sully her reputation to keep mine untarnished. Nothing could be further from the truth. The things she has done in my name disgust me.”
Celestia turned away, refusing to meet my eyes. “And I think what sickens me most of all is that she is one of the best viziers I have ever had. That her wickedness has proved so effective where decency has failed to find a solution. That an evil mare might accomplish more good than a decent one.”
“But the break between you and the ephorate lies entirely at her hooves!” I protested. “Were it not for her actions, this entire crisis would not have come to pass!”
“Dost thou truly think it so?” Commander Celestia gave a resigned shake of her head. “Thou thinkest too kindly of me, then. Thy loyalty has blinded thee to my faults and assigned blame to her for my errors. ‘Twas not Sunbeam Sparkle who chose to neglect Pegasopolis for more than a century because she let grief blind her to her duties.”
Celestia turned to me once more. “Is it not a common belief in Pegasopolis that when a subordinate fails, the fault lies with their superiors for choosing a pony unsuited to the task?”
To my sorrow, I could not deny the point I saw her building towards. “That is so, Commander.” Thankfully, she chose not to comment upon my error in using her former title. “It is a leader’s duty to choose tools which are fit for purpose. However—”
She cut me off with an upraised hoof. “Do not weaken thy words to salve my pride, Shadow.” She gave a slow, pained nod. “If a commander must choose the proper tool for the task at hoof, then what is to be said of my choice of Sunbeam Sparkle for my vizier? I knew her and her faults, and still chose to trust her council and employ her services. I chose to employ her in this matter as well, when I might have excluded her.” She sighed, and slumped down against the floor. “Neigh, Shadow. While I am not pleased with her service, I must bear the greater measure of responsibility in this matter.”
I found myself torn on the matter. My heart wished to deny her every word, to scream that she was blameless. And yet, my mind told me that there was truth in her words. She had chosen Sunbeam Sparkle as her agent and representative. Rather than linger on this train of thought, I opted to seek another. “My fellow ephors are far from blameless. They acted too quickly to condemn you, and your dismissal was needless. You already sought to mend what errors you had committed, and though I am loath to admit it, our society is troubled.” I felt my ears flatten against my skull as I continued. “I think in the matter of Clippings, we are so certain that the practice is ended that we refuse to give the idea proper credence. I experienced as much in speaking with my own daughter. Rather than seek truth, I began with my certainty that no Clippings were occurring and then sought the means to confirm it. That is a poor way to go about finding any truth.
“Further, there is the matter of Valiant Doo.” I gave a disgusted snort at the thought of the murderer. “His crime was foul, and yet half of Pegasopolis would name him a hero. For murder. Has the honor of Pegasopolis become so fragile that we must become little better than reivers in order to defend it?”
Celestia’s eyes closed for several seconds, and then she gave a slow, thoughtful nod. "There is much in Pegasopolis that troubles me.” She turned from me for a few moments, then gave a pained sigh. When she faced me once more, her shoulders no longer slumped with weary melancholy, and there was strength and determination in her words once more. Whatever dark mood had taken her seemed to have passed, hopefully for good. “I must regretfully decline thy offer of hospitality, Shadow. I fear my continued presence in Pegasopolis would be detrimental to any hope of resolving this matter without any further discord.” She gave me a piercing look. “What canst thou tell me of the ephorate’s plans and intentions for the future?”
Despite the circumstances, the request took me unawares. “Commander—Celestia, in the eyes of the law you are no longer my commanding officer, but a foreign leader. If I were to tell you of what the ephorate has discussed in private...”
“Thy fellow ephors might well view it as a betrayal,” she concluded for me. “I will not mince words or attempt to couch the matter in technicalities. I, in my capacity as a leader of a foreign power, am asking that thou inform me of the internal affairs of thine own government.” She let out a heavy sigh. “I regret the necessity of it, but at this time tensions could not be higher. No doubt many will say that while my removal as Commander was within the bounds of Pegasopolan law, it presages an open rebellion against my rule. It would ease my mind greatly if I could have thy word that such is not the case.”
I could scarce believe my own ears. “You would have me betray Pegasopolis?”
Celestia met my eyes, her gaze pained, but unflinching. “I would have thee do what is best for all Equestria, not merely the portion of it whose population was born with wings.” She let out a heavy sigh. “There will be much fear and uncertainty on all sides in the wake of my removal as Commander of Pegasopolis. I suspect that the ephorate fears me far more than I fear it, and would calm those fears as well.” She stepped forward, and offered me her hoof. “I offer thee my solemn word that I’ve no intention of retaliating against Pegasopolis for my dismissal. There will be no military action, and I’ll not use my power as leader of the other pony tribes to exert pressure against Pegasopolis. Though it is with a heavy heart, I accept my dismissal, and will abide by the ephorate’s decision.”
A long, painful silence reigned ‘tween us as I considered my answer. Unfortunately, there was but one answer I could give. “With all due respect, Celestia, I cannot speak to you of the private discussions of the ephorate at this time. Such a course of action would be highly improper and in violation of Pegasopolan law and custom. Despite my disagreement with my fellow ephors’ decision, I am an ephor of Pegasopolis.” I considered my words carefully, and amended. “However, it is our stated policy that the ephorate has no right to interfere in the affairs of unicorns or earth ponies, just as the other pony tribes should not involve themselves in our own internal matters. This stated policy would preclude any move to threaten your rule over the other pony tribes.”
Celestia studied my face for several long moments, then very slowly nodded. “I see. I would ask that thou inform thy fellow ephors that I’ve every intention of upholding the Equestrian Accords, despite the recent unpleasantness.” (2) She let out a heavy sigh. “I have no wish for conflict between the pony tribes. If I am to be restored as Commander of Pegasopolis, it will only be when Pegasopolis itself welcomes me, not because I’ve forced them to accept me unwillingly.”
2: The Equestria Accords were a series of treaties between the three pony tribes which effectively lead to the creation of Equestria proper. Among other things they outlined Pegasopolis’ responsibility for weather and defense, the earth ponies’ duty to provide food for the other tribes, and Unicornia’s obligation to oversee the sun and moon, as well as providing other magical services such as the enchanting of gear for the Pegasopolan military.
I offered her a worried frown. “You truly think matters so dire? You speak as though you fear the ephorate is moments away from war with the other tribes.”
“I think caution prudent in this matter,” Celestia declared. “I do not think ‘twould be wise to give the ephorate cause to feel threatened if I wish for continued peace.” She gave a slow, sad shake of her head. “I know some of my advisors would suggest that I cut off Pegasopolis’ food supply or some similar measure in order to punish your tribe for removing me.” She gave a pained, insincere smile. “And I know how Sunbeam Sparkle would answer those advisors. Though she be cruel, she is not a fool. She grasps that a poor, starving army in close proximity to undefended food and wealth is a recipe for war. Likewise, any army that fears they will soon be poor and starving.” She gave a single shake of her head. “Better that I take a century to regain my office peacefully, or never regain it at all, than to shed a single drop of blood to reclaim it by force of arms. Wilt thou convey that message to thy fellow ephors?”
“I will,” I assured her.
“Then I thank thee, Ephor Shadow Kicker of Pegasopolis.” To my surprise, she bestowed a single chaste kiss upon my forehead. (3) “I thank you for speaking with me as one mare to another, before we attended to matters of state. Hopefully, when next we meet, it will be in better circumstances.”
Though neither of us knew it at the time, that hope would go unfulfilled.
3: It bears mentioning that Equestrian social norms in regards to things like kissing have shifted considerably since Shadow’s day. At the time, a kiss of this sort would be a normal platonic gesture of affection for a trusted and close subordinate. In general, the Equestria of Shadow’s days was far more open to using kisses to convey non-romantic forms or love and affection, compared to modern times. It seems a pity that kisses have become more restricted in their meaning over time.
After parting ways with Commander—neigh, at least for the moment she was my former Commander—Celestia, I intended to make my way back to the clanhold. There was much to think upon, and I had need of my father’s counsel. First, however, I would need to retrieve my daughter. Now that Celestia had been legally stripped of the title of Commander, Gale could hardly remain in her hetairoi .
To my immense displeasure, but not surprise, Gale still remained with Midnight Sparkle. Which meant that she now was in the company of Sunbeam Sparkle as well. My displeasure at being forced to endure Archmagus Sparkle’s presence once more was significantly lessened by the fact that she was gathering her possessions and making ready to depart. Whilst she packed, Gale sat off to the side with Midnight, entertaining the filly with cloudcraft.
I cleared my throat to announce my presence. “Gale, I have need of thee once more. I am certain Archmagus Sparkle can attend to her own child’s needs.”
“I have some familiarity with the process,” the Archmagus commented dryly. “Midnight, it is time you allowed the ephor to have her daughter back.”
“But mother!” Midnight whined, “Gale promised to take me to a play and get me ice cream, and after we finished that she was going to show me how to disembowel an earth pony in three moves!”
Gale offered the young filly a playful grin as she rose. “My apologies, young Midnight, but duty calls. I am sure we shall meet again.”
“One can but hope,” the filly groused, crossing her forelegs over her chest and pouting.
Sunbeam Sparkle opted to insert herself into the conversation. “It seems unlikely, I must say. Now that I am no longer Grand Vizier of Unicornia, I suspect the ephor will take far less interest in my affairs.” She let out a haughty sniff. “Oh, the Archmagus of Canterlot is still a pony of some importance, but ‘tis only a matter of time before that honor is lost to me as well. Though Her Majesty has no formal power to dismiss me, I am certain my fellow magi will be quick to seize upon my moment of weakness.” (4) She turned to me, a faint sneer on her face. “Does my downfall please you, Ephor?”
4: The Archmagus of Canterlot was formally chosen by an assembly of all ranking magi. While this arrangement officially meant that the selection of an Archmagus was a purely internal affair, as a matter of practical politics many non-magi had a say in the matter. While it was not uncommon for magi as a whole to have rocky relations with the nobility, an Archmagus was expected to work alongside the monarchy, and thus Celestia’s open disapproval was a political kiss of death.
I considered my answer carefully, if only to ensure that I did not give her cause for juris ungula . I would not have objected to such a conflict earlier, but now that her political collapse seemed all but certain there was nothing to be gained from further antagonizing her. On the battlefield, a broken enemy should be pursued until their strength is utterly shattered, to ensure that they cannot rebuild their forces. On the political battlefield, things work somewhat differently.
Unless I chose to end her life in juris ungula , I would gain little by further pursuing any rivalry with Sunbeam Sparkle. She was already removed from power, and I doubt Celestia could be persuaded to do her any further harm without some new offense. I suspect that despite her harsh words earlier, Celestia had hoped that this reprimand might serve to push Sunbeam Sparkle along the path to redemption. If she had not learned decency in power, then perhaps she would force herself acquire it in the hopes of regaining her former position. I thought such a thing unlikely, but ‘twould seem that Celestia is far more given to hopes and dreams than I.
While I would not go out of my way to humiliate a beaten foe, that did not mean I intended to lie simply to spare her feelings. “I think ‘tis better for Unicornia and Equestria both that you are out of power, aye. To the extent that I think Equestria benefits from your removal, I am glad of it. However, I take no pleasure from your personal troubles.” I could not entirely restrain my contempt as I added. “Unlike some, I’ve found that the sight of another’s suffering rarely gives me cause for pleasure.”
The Archmagus let out a faint snort. “Ah, ‘twould seem that despite your fine words, my downfall does bring you some pleasure. So be it, then. I suppose I should at least thank you for attempting to spare my feelings in some small way.” She let out a bitter little snort. “‘Tis a small kindness, but far more than I am likely to receive from my own kind.”
Had she been another pony, or I more naive, I might have been moved to pity by her words. However, neither of those proved to be the case, and so I did not allow myself to be so transparently manipulated. “There is a saying ‘mongst the earth ponies which I think most applicable to your situation, Archmagus. ‘One reaps what one sows.’ You’ve nopony to blame but yourself for your current misfortunes.”
“I am certain it pleases you to think so.” She offered a smile that would have better suited an alligator than a pony. “In any case, your desire is granted, and I am removed from power. And all it cost you to achieve this was the removal of Her Highness as Commander of Pegasopolis. Do you think that a worthwhile exchange?”
“That was not the way of it,” I growled at her.
“Wasn’t it, though?” Her cruel, predatory smile widened. “You cannot have failed to grasp how in attacking me, you also attacked Her Majesty. Did you truly think all the discontent you and your daughter helped stir would immediately calm the very instant I was removed from power?”
I opened my mouth to deny the words, but found that I could not. Had Celestia herself not said that her choice of subordinates reflected upon her as well? In condemning her vizier, did I not implicitly condemn her judgement in choosing that vizier as well? With a troubled frown, I answered the Archmagus. “Your words are not entirely false.”
Sunbeam Sparkle’s vicious and predatory smile shifted to one that was more resembling of an appropriate equine expression. Not only that, it was tinged with something that might have been worry, had I seen it on the face of any other. “There will be consequences for what has come this day. You realize that, do you not?”
“I do not think anypony has failed to grasp it. The choosing of a new Commander for the first time in more than a century is a momentous event.” I am sure the common soldiers would soon be gossiping madly about who the new Commander would be. “Commander Celestia does not intend to dispute the Ephorate's decision.”
“I did not believe she would.” An unreadable look crossed her face. “I do find it intriguing that in spite of her deposition, you still name her as Commander. Is that merely a lifetime of habit, or a sign of something else?” She gave an uncaring shrug and a dismissive wave of her hoof. “No matter. In any case, Her Majesty’s stated intentions will not keep your fellow ephors from harboring their own suspicions and worries.”
Though I knew it was likely true, her words carried a tenor of insult that I did not care for. “No doubt many of your fellow unicorns will be busily plotting a way restore her to power as well.”
“I will not pretend to deny it.” She placed several robes into a small valise. “Such is the nature of politics. Everypony plots for power, even ones such as you who fancy themselves above such things.” She paused, and thoughtfully tapped a hoof to her lips. “In truth, the maneuvering ‘tween unicorn and pegasus is of little consequence at the moment. ‘Tis the earth ponies who will move next; their elections are but a month away.”
“What of them?” I scrutinized her, trying to gain some idea of what she intended from this conversation. “I would expect that Celestia will win against token opposition, as she has in the past.”
“Do you truly think the earth ponies blind to what passes in the clouds? That the ephorate’s decision will not affect them in any way?” She shook her head, and let out reproving hiss, as if she were scolding young Midnight. “Celestia’s reign over all three pony tribes has persisted for so long because nopony had thought to call it into question. Now that the pegasi have brought the possibility to mind, many will grant it credence. Her every action and policy is now open to question and debate, in a way it has not been since long before we were born.” A dark scowl crossed her face. “I think it likely Her Majesty will face far more opposition than anticipated in the upcoming election.”
“I am rather less convinced of its likelihood.” My wings gave an aggravated flick as I considered the matter. “Four ponies might err, but ‘tis far harder for however many earth ponies would constitute a majority to make the same mistake.” A grim smile crossed my face as I turned to more pleasant matters. “I am curious to see who shall replace you. Much will rest on their shoulders.”
“As grand vizier or archmagus?” Sunbeam Sparkle smiled once more, the expression more akin to that of a particularly polite shark than anything conveying genuine warmth. “Those are two very different questions, but both of merit.”
“I shall ask for an answer to both, then.”
She ceased packing her things for a few moments as she pondered the matter. “For grand vizier, I suspect it will be my old foe in the court, Duke Polaris. He has opposed me on nearly every issue he could since I became grand vizier and even exerted what influence he had in attempt to prevent me from becoming archmagus.” The Archmagus let out a snort that would hardly have suited the refined court of Canterlot, though a moment later she restored her composure. “Most of the nobles look to him for guidance, and in Unicornia whenever an Archmagus and the magi are in disfavor, ‘tis the nobles who are likely to enjoy the benefits.” She directed a particularly wicked smirk at me. “A shame. If you found me intolerable...”
I did vaguely recall Duke Polaris from my interactions with court and the nobility. From what little I’d seen of the stallion, he matched every negative conception I had of the Unicorn nobility. An obsession with bloodlines, and the worst sort of groundside hedonism. Still, one cannot fully judge a pony based on a first superficial impression. “Who shall replace you amongst the magi, then?”
Sunbeam Sparkle idly hummed to herself as she put some trinkets away in her bags, as if her impending loss of power bothered her not at all. “A tougher question. One can never quite determine how an archmagus conclave will go. So many factions, and all prone to rapidly shifting opinions and forming alliances, then breaking them at a moment’s notice.” No doubt Sunbeam felt perfectly at home in such an environment. “Very few ponies foresaw my own rise, until the matter had already been settled.” She gave the matter slightly more thought. “The three I think are best positioned at the moment are Terra Stratus, Lady Instance, and Vanguard Action. I would also not rule out Baronetess Ahfa. She’s a poor magus, but from House Polaris. The new Vizier will back her as much as he can.”
I considered her answers, and gave a look to my daughter. Gale gathered my meaning quickly enough, and offered a single nod. Given the current tense state of affairs, ‘twas only prudent to keep appraised of events within Unicornia. That matter resolved, I turned to the Archmagus once more. “Well, 'twould seem we shall at least be spared the dubious pleasure of each other's company in the future.”
“So ‘twould seem, for the moment,” she agreed, her smile not faltering in the slightest. “However, one can never quite predict the course of events. I certainly have no intention of lingering in political exile indefinitely. Mayhaps in a few years time, I will have regained all that I’ve lost, and more besides. It is not in my nature to accept defeat.” She gave a quick, dismissive wave of her hoof. “Ah, but I make a poor guest, speaking only about my own troubles and concerns. ‘Tis only polite to make the expected inquiries as to your health and fortunes as well. How would you rate your own standing ‘mongst your fellow ephors?”
A question that troubled me more than I would care to admit. When they began the process of deposing Celestia, Swift Blade had alluded to prior conversations on the matter. Conversations I had not been privy to. That my fellow ephors would discuss such important matters while excluding me was troubling. Regardless, there was but one answer to give. “I am an ephor, as always.”
Sunbeam Sparkle let out a faint, carefully neutral murmur. “For now, I suppose.”
I scowled at her. “Your meaning?”
The predatory smirk on her face widened. “I wonder, have you ever had the displeasure to be amongst the minority in a political struggle? Especially when the stakes were perceived to be significant by your peers?”
I misliked the implication, though I could not deny it. As a matter of policy, the Ephorate and Pegasopolils as a whole preferred consensus ‘mongst it’s leaders. No doubt my fellow ephors would attempt to sway me to their side when next we met. And if I could not be swayed...
“I tire of this conversation,” I quickly announced, lest I pursue that troubling line of thought any further. “Gale, let us away.”
A note of triumph entered the Archmagus’s smile as she saw the weakness in my armor, but in truth I cared little for her petty victory. “One last warning for you, Ephor. I suggest you protect you and yours, for I think you will find there will be very few ponies willing to do that in the coming days if you retain your convictions.”
As I departed, I offered my own response. “You have cast all decency and conviction aside. How many ponies rally to your banner, now that you are in need?”
No doubt she would have offered some witty retort of her own, had I given her sufficient time to conjure one. Instead, I made my exit. Gale followed shortly afterwards, lingering only long enough to offer a final hug and kiss to young Midnight before her departure.
The matter of farewells attended to, Gale and I made our way back to the clanhold. ‘Twas difficult not to note the mood of the city as we walked Cloudsdale’s streets. There was an odd mixture of energy alongside a strange sort of release. ‘Tis a difficult thing to put into words; the closest metaphor I can think is likening it to what a city seems like in the eye of the storm. There was excitement at the new and unexpected direction Pegasopolis had taken, accompanied by joy at the impending departure of the unicorns, but underlying it all was a certain tension. A feeling that the crisis we’d weathered was but the first of many.
I found my father in his quarters, reclining on a large and comfortable cloud whilst being read to by one of the young apprentices. Much as the loss of his eyesight and subsequent retirement from the field of battle had pained him, I suspect that in some ways the fact that he could no longer enjoy the written word was an even sharper blow. Every soldier knows that age will eventually take them from the battlefield, should they survive long enough for such to be a concern. The loss of one’s hobbies and diversions, however, is not a thing we are so prepared to accept. I’ve many fond memories of reading a tome alongside my father in my youth, interrupting him as needed to ask questions and generally make a nuisance of myself.
I put a hoof on the young apprentice’s shoulder, and took the book from him before giving the young colt a gentle but pointed push towards the door. After searching the page for a moment, I resumed where he had left off. “Indeed, whosoever shall look at the sedition and misgovernment which befell the other pony tribes, to whom they were as near related in blood as situation, will find in them the best reason to admire the wisdom and foresight of Lyequinegus. For these other tribes, in their first rise, were equal, or, if there were any odds, they lay on the side of the unicorns and earth ponies, who, in the first allotment, were thought to have been luckier than the pegasi; yet their happiness was of but small continuance, partly the tyrannical temper of their kings and partly the ungovernableness of the people quickly bringing upon them such disorders, and so complete an overthrow of all existing institutions, as clearly to show how truly divine a blessing the pegasi had had in that wise lawgiver who gave their government its happy balance and temper. But of this I shall say more in its due place.” (5)
5: While Shadow does not mention the name of the book, this quote indicates that it comes from Palaminarch’s biography of Lyequinegus. Lyequinegus herself is a figure of some mystery, to the point that some modern historians have suggested that she is more of a legendary figure meant to represent the series of lawgivers and reformers who gradually transformed the pegasi from nomadic bands of raiders to a structured, organized, and civilized society. Given that written records from the early tribal days are fragmentary at best, the matter is unlikely to ever be resolved.
I continued on for some time, until father put one of his hooves on mine. “I thank thee, Shadow, but I think we’ve more important matters at hoof than dusty old tomes. What canst thou tell me of the removal of Celestia as Commander?”
“A great deal, as I was present for it.” The memory of what had passed there, and afterwards when I spoke with Celestia, still weighed heavily upon me. “My fellow ephors feel that she has not adequately performed her duties, and voted for her removal.”
“That much I had gathered already.” Though Father’s tone was light, he turned to me with a deeply troubled frown. “But I note that you speak of your fellow ephors doing this thing. Dost thou seek to distance thyself from their decision already?”
“I do not approve of it.” I shook my head, then cursed myself for the motion. ‘Twas not as if Father could see my body language. It has been more than a year since the light left his eyes, and still there are times when I forget myself in front of him. Especially in times such as then, when I was troubled. “The matter was decided at four votes to one.”
“I am sure former Commander Celestia appreciates your loyalty, mother,” Gale assured me.
“No doubt.” Father brought a hoof up to his chin thoughtfully. “However, when my vision faded and I could no longer properly execute the duties of my station, I retired. That is the way of things: nopony can hold command indefinitely, and those who cannot properly perform their duties should be removed from power.”
Father’s words cut me to the quick. “She is not an unworthy Commander, Father.” I was surprised by how much heat my own voice carried, the passion of my words. “Aye, she has erred in her leadership of Pegasopolis, but nopony can truly achieve perfection. She has seen her errors and taken all reasonable steps to correct them, but the other ephors would not hear her. If a single mistake were to be the undoing of every single officer, then nopony would ever ascend to the rank of ephor.”
“Well reasoned,” Father conceded, nodding to me. “E’en so, I wonder if a temporary removal from power might not be to her benefit. Deprive her of the office for a few years, and when she regains it she will do so with a much greater appreciation for our ways, and the wisdom to properly honor them in her role as Commander.”
That thought did calm my fears, somewhat. Though I still disliked the idea of removing Celestia from power at all, a temporary removal as a sign of the ephorate’s disapproval troubled me far less than the idea of a permanent dismissal. “Thou thinkest it likely, then, that she will be restored to power after a time? The others did not seem as though they intended their removal of her to be a temporary measure.”
“There is too much that binds the three pony tribes together for her removal to persist indefinitely,” Father argued. “And if the current ephorate will not restore her, another will. ‘Tis one of the advantages of immortality—she can be restored by our grandchildren easily enough.”
“Indeed.” My eyes travelled to Gale, who seemed largely content to remain respectfully silent whilst her elders spoke. I had high hopes for my daughter; it would greatly please me if I could emulate my father in passing my title to my daughter when I reached the age of retirement. In truth, Gale had not yet displayed the qualities of leadership I’d hoped for. That is not to say she had failed me in any regard; she was in every sense a superlative daughter, but she seemed to lack the natural spark of true leadership. I think she would make a much better proedos than a leader in her own right. (6)
6: Proedos was a Pegasopolan title generally used to denote a closely trusted advisor and second-in-command, similar to the executive officer of a Guard unit or the grand vizier of Unicornia. If Shadow were to have been appointed to the office Celestia offered her, this almost certainly would have been her title (unless the ephors chose to bring back the old title of Hypatos instead , which seems unlikely given that it carried a connotation of placing Shadow above the other ephors, while proedas merely states that she is Celestia’s close subordinate). Shadow’s own thoughts here seem to be an accurate prediction, given that Gale rarely held battlefield commands and eventually served as the second Grand Vizier of Equestria.
Future matters were hardly a concern for the moment, though. We had no shortage of problems in the present to concern ourselves with. “To think that I might not even live to see her restored to her proper place sits poorly with me. As does the thought of continuing to participate in the governance of Pegasopolis when I disagree with my fellow ephors on such an important matter.”
“And what wouldst thou do regarding the matter?” Father questioned me. “Regardless of thy opinion, the ephorate has voted and she has been removed. Wilt thou end all thy future speeches much like Catrot the Elder did? Will thy every sentence be accompanied by an unending refrain of ‘and I also believe that Celestia must be restored?’”
I confess, the thought had a certain appeal to it. I suspect it would go poorly with my fellow ephors, though. I do wonder how the old ephorate endured Catrot’s unending demands to reclaim Manehatten from griffon occupation. I do wonder if perhaps Commander Luna’s decision to finally do so was driven not by a desire to free the city’s earth ponies, but merely to finally silence Catrot. ‘Twas a cruel irony indeed that Catrot himself did not live to see the task finished. Much as I would likely not live to see Celestia restored.
“What other options have I, Father?” The words came out with weary resignation. “I cannot accept the decision my fellow ephors have made. To remain silent would be to accept it by my submission. I must protest the wrongs that my eyes perceive.”
“Then thou wilt quickly anger and offend all thy fellow ephors,” he cautioned me. “A choice has been made, and they would not have made it unless they were committed to it. The longer you protest that decision, the more your bonds of friendship and service will weaken. Wouldst thou be diminished to naught but an empty seat on the council, friendless and ignored?” His voice softened, and he put a hoof on my shoulder. “Wouldst thou be sundered from Rightly? Thou must be aware of how he shall react to thy words.”
“I do not wish such a thing,” I confessed. “I am torn ‘tween my duties to Celestia and to Pegasopolis.”
Father considered the matter for a moment, then gave a grave nod. “Divided loyalties are one of the greatest problems that can afflict a pony. Have a care that thou dost not find thyself dithering as to which loyalty is the greater. For my part, I would say that Commanders come and go, but Pegasopolis endures.”
To hear such words from my own father stung. To think that even he supported Celestia’s removal. “Thou wouldst counsel that I resign myself to this wrong?”
“Such is my advice, daughter.” He let out a heavy sigh, and sank against the clouds he rested upon. “I have grown old, and suffered many ills in my time. What might I have done, had I devoted my life to raging against these injustices? I think that would be a waste of a life. Sometimes, the wisest course is to accept that which we cannot change, and focus our attentions upon that which yet remains within our power to alter.”
Prudence dictated that I accept Father’s words. Sadly, I could not accept them. For all that I knew he counseled the more intelligent course of action, I could not bring myself to believe it right. “I am sorry, Father, but I cannot. I cannot bring myself to accept this wrong. I must protest it, e’en if it means that I must speak words that would turn my brother and sister ephors ‘gainst me. E’en if it means I must stand alone ‘gainst all Pegasopolis.” I took a deep breath and stiffened my resolve. “Father, thou didst teach me from an early age that I should stand firm for my principles. That what I believe to be right should not bend and sway simply because my morals were inconvenient at the moment. ‘Tis an easy thing to hold to one’s beliefs when those are popular and untested. ‘Tis quite another keep thy principles uncompromised when temptation rises and all stand opposed, when ‘twould be prudent to take another course of action.”
Father regarded me for a long time, then waved a hoof for me to approach. I did, and helped guide his hoof to my shoulder, and then his lips to my forehead. “I am proud of thee. Truly, Shadow, thou hast grown to be a fine mare.”
“If that is so, it is only because I had fine fathers to guide my steps.” I allowed myself a moment of weakness, and embraced him. He wasted no time in returning the gesture. After a moment’s hesitation, Gale embraced the both of us as well.
We remained so for quite some time, overcome by the strength of our feelings. At last, father regained his composure and spoke once more, though his words were still thick with emotion. “Shadow, while I would still counsel another course, I ask that thou continue to do what thou thinkest to be right, e’en if it means we disagree. And know that regardless of thy course, thou shalt as ever enjoy my unflinching support in the matter. If any in the clan or the Gerousia question the rightness of thy actions, then they shall find that they must answer to me.”
I pressed my cheek against Father’s for some time, simply enjoying the closeness of him. E’en if his body had grown older and weaker than it once was, I still felt like a young filly in his grasp. To me, he would always be that symbol of strength and protection which all good fathers represent. Just as I hope that I shall always be a proper mother to Gale, and any other children and grandchildren I might have, unto the very end of my days.
For the first time since joining their number, I dreaded the thought of meeting with my fellow ephors. Always before, I had eagerly awaited the chance to speak with them about matters great and small. Rightly above all others, naturally, but each of the others had their charms as well. Whether it be the brash impulsive energy of Bright Charger or the gruff, dogged simplicity of Steel Striker, all of the other ephors had proven to be pleasant company. That such a thing had changed now disconcerted me.
Bright Charger was due to host our latest meeting, and so I made my way to the Charger clanhold shortly before the appointed hour. Their bastion was rather unique by the standards of Pegasopolis: first and foremost, it is notable for being the largest of all the clanholds in Cloudsdale. While the Chargers were one of the greatest clans of Cloudsdale, to judge by their compound one would think that they outnumbered the Doos and Kickers combined, when in truth they were merely of comparable size.
There were many reasons for the size of the Charger clanhold. As implied by their name, the traditional tactics of the clan placed heavy emphasis on the lance and the flying charge. ‘Twas a highly effective form of fighting when properly executed, but one that required far more space to practice than weapons like the wing-blade and the hammer-hoof. Especially when it came to practicing maneuvers such as coordinated mass charges. A training yard where dozens of ponies refine the tactics of a full-speed charge naturally must include sufficient space for them to reach charging speed before their attack.
However, not all of the clanhold’s size was purely practical. The Chargers also had a reputation for two traits that seemed to inevitably drive them to expand their clanhold. First was a tendency towards impulsiveness—more than one Charger has added to the compound on little more than a whim. Secondly, the Chargers have long been known for a certain tendency towards pageantry. That is not to say that they are strutting peacocks like one finds ‘pon the ground in Canterlot or the wealthier areas of Manehatten, but I suspect that there is a similar driving principle.
The desire to display the greatness of their clan through the grandeur of their home and possessions was one I could somewhat comprehend. Certainly none could deny that the state of a clanhold reflected ‘pon the nature of the clan itself. Thankfully, the austerity forced ‘pon all pegasi by virtue of living ‘mongst the clouds prevented the ostentatious displays of the Chargers from growing too excessive. Indeed, the compound’s rising spires and rainbow fountains gave the entire area a level of magnificence rarely seen in pegasi homes. And yet, I could not help but think that the overall effect was as much off-putting as impressive. Much like in Canterlot, upon reaching a certain level of exorbitance the Chargers’ extravagance began to lose its impact. One fountain is grand—but when they exist by the dozen, they quickly become tedious.
Bright Charger’s clan was out in force today. Dozens of pegasi in the distinctive polished mirror-sheen steel of her clan milled about, mostly occupied with the usual military exercises. However, this time they moved not with the casual ease of long practice, but with a sense of urgency and purpose. ‘Twas not at all unusual to see a clan’s ponies training at arms, but this time I could not help but wonder if there were something more to the matter. Mayhaps Bright Charger simply hoped to impress her fellow ephors with a martial display, but I could not help but think along darker pathways. Her clanponies did not move as if they sought to make a fine display; rather, it seemed as if they were preparing for war.
A troubling thought indeed.
Though I arrived before the appointed meeting time, I was the not the first to do so. Rightly stood outside the clanhold’s central building, idly watching the Chargers as they went through their preparations. Upon noting my approach he gave a respectful nod, though I noted the way his ears lay flat against his skull, and there was an unusual note of hesitation in his voice. “Shadow. ‘Tis good to see thee ‘pon this day.” He hesitated for a moment, then added. “I trust that thou art well?”
“Tolerable enough,” I answered him coolly, but politely. ‘Twas difficult to summon my normal joy at seeing him when my mind lingered on all that divided us. ‘Twas he who had cast the deciding vote to remove Celestia from power, and of all the ephors who had seemingly chosen to exclude me from the discussion regarding her removal, his betrayal cut deepest. I had not thought myself so unimportant to him that he would cast me aside at a moment’s notice in the name of political convenience. “How does this day find you?” My tone made it plain that my choice of pronoun was deliberate.
Had Rightly’s ears gone any flatter, they might well have receded into his skull. ‘Twas somewhat pleasing to see that he looked properly chastened for his actions. When he spoke, there was a strained casualness to his tone, as if he were struggling to keep up the appearance that nothing was amiss. “Well enough, Shadow. How fares thy honored father? I've not had time to speak to any of the geronts since our gathering.”
“My father is quite well, as is my daughter. The remainder of my clan also endures with no troubles beyond the usual.” I was in no mood to exchange small talk and idle pleasantries with Rightly. In truth, now that we stood face-to-face, I was quite wroth with him. “You regret that you’ve not spoken to my father recently, then? 'Twould seem that you have not had the opportunity to speak to many who might be deserving of your words, of late.”
Rightly offered me a small, dour nod. “Much to my discredit.” He turned, and his gaze lingered long on the Chargers as they practiced their craft. When he finally answered me, there was a gentle and almost apologetic tone to his voice. “The haste with which recent events have proceeded has caught me ill-prepared to speak to even those closest to me. This is something I hope shall change swiftly, now that the storm has passed.”
“One can but hope.” Though his words had the tenor of an apology, it was not yet enough to dispel my wrath. It would be some time before I could bring myself to forgive him fully for the slight I had suffered. “I am pleased to see that I am at least invited to this meeting of the ephorate. I had begun to wonder if Celestia was the only one you met in secret to depose.”
Rightly gave a barely perceptible shake of his head, one most ponies who do not know him as well as I might not have seen. “Such a thing could never happen, Shadow. ‘Twas not my intention to see thee absent from the last council, and Steel also stood in opposition.”
That news was intriguing, and somewhat cooled my fury at last. “Truly?”
“Aye.” He glanced ‘cross the training yard, to where Bright Charger herself stood, directing some of her clanponies through their combat drills. When he spoke, there was a slightly shamed air to his words. “In truth, the hours prior to our meeting with Queen Celestia were largely spent arguing on the matter of whether or not we should bring thee to the table. The matter went undecided, despite devoting all the time of our meeting to it.”
“Ah, so that was the way of it.” I was glad to hear that I’d not been intentionally cast aside by Rightly. Though the fact that two of my fellow ephors mistrusted me stung, the thought of Rightly treating me so would have been far more painful. “I take it 'twas feared that I would break my fellow ephors’ confidence and speak to Celestia of the matter the instant our meeting was adjourned?” If I am honest, I would have been tempted to consider such a course.
Rightly remained silent for some time, a carefully neutral look ‘pon his face. No doubt I’d placed him in as difficult a position as I myself had faced yesterday when Celestia made her request. Worse, even, if he shared those same doubts, but sought to repress them. When he finally answered, the words came out with the sort of slow deliberation I usually associated with Steel Striker. “I fail to see the difference such actions would make, in truth.”
So he confesses his suspicion that I might have forewarned Celestia, given the opportunity. I think I might well have done so, if only in the hopes that warning her of the depth of the ephorate’s discontent might allow her to better address their concerns. However, she had already gone to considerable effort to do so, only to see her offerings dismissed out of hoof and even turned ‘gainst her. I gave a slow, reluctant nod. “Aye, it would not change the outcome. 'Twould seem that the matter was already decided, regardless of anything I or Celestia might have done.”
“Thou speakest as though we have declared damnatio memoriae upon her, or made the choice on a whim,” he grumbled discontentedly. “Celestia's removal may be temporary, at least to her measure of time, but ‘twas neither lightly done nor undeserved.”
“More’s the pity that I cannot know such things, seeing as you felt the need to exclude me from the discussion.” My words might have been unfair, but the wound caused by my exclusion was yet a fresh one. I cannot be condemned for giving words to my pain when it was yet so fresh. “What weight is there to a decision which is made in secret, while all dissenting voices are silenced? I had not thought my opinion so unwanted by thee, e'en if it differs.”
Rightly went silent for a time once again, but when he finally broke that silence his voice was quiet, but carried an emphatic tone. “Shadow, thy exclusion was not a thing I desired! I argued ‘gainst it with such vigor that we spent two hours talking of little else! I regret only the fact that in my zeal to debate the point, I effectively conceded the matter by exhausting all the time we could spare.” He stepped forward, coming within an intimate distance of me. “Thy counsel holds great value to me, e'en when it diverges from my own opinions. Mayhap e’en moreso in such times; ‘tis of great value to have a pony willing to question my choices.”
“I am glad to hear it.” The words were scarcely louder than a whisper as they left my lips. “Though we disagree on this matter, and are likely to do so for all the rest of our days, I would not have such a disagreement sunder the bond ‘tween us.”
“Nor would I.” Rightly once more spared a quick glance for his sister-in-law. “The choice to exclude thee yet smoulders. Steel's own displeasure is present as well, if silent.” A faint smile crossed his face as he amended, “Well, moreso than is usual for him.”
“That must be a great silence indeed, if it is noticeable from him.” The light mood engendered by Rightly’s words could not last long, however. Especially not when Bright Charger crossed my field of vision as she demonstrated a charging technique for the benefit of her clan. “Still, two amongst our fellows argued for my exclusion. ‘Tis almost tempting to make an issue of it.”
“While I understand thy displeasure with it, I must ask that thou restrain thy choler, dear Shadow.” His tone was gentle and calming, yet held a slight hint of unyielding authority underneath. “I would prefer to resolve such matters swiftly, quietly, and bloodlessly. In a time when the Commander's seat grows cold, public disunity would be cancerous to Pegasopolis, and present an open target to the lingering machinations of others.”
That point could hardly be argued. The rift ‘mongst the ephorate was troublesome enough when it consisted merely of a difference of opinion. Already we had suffered one murder over political matters; any further displays of violence would only encourage those who sought to resolve disagreements in blood rather than debate. Even if my clash with the others took place while carefully constrained by the rules of juris ungula , it would be seen as an endorsement of political violence, and could quickly escalate matters beyond all control. “Aye, ‘twould not be wise. Regardless seeking juris with Swift Blade would hardly be a fair contest. He has many virtues, but he is no warrior. And despite my offense, I would prefer not to face Bright Charger in the dueling ring. I am not too proud to admit that ‘tween the two of us, she is the better at single combat.”
“I would prefer to avoid such confrontations at all, dear Shadow.” A troubled look crossed Rightly’s face as he added, “Especially ‘tween thee and Bright. Of all the ponies in the ephorate, ‘twould pain me most if I were forced to bury one of thee.”
“Then I shall do all that I can to ensure that this does not come to pass. I would not wish to cause thee pain, whether in my victory or my defeat.” After a moment’s consideration I stepped closer to him. “I am glad there is no discord 'tween us, at least.”
Rightly moved nearer as well, so that there was but half a pace ‘tween us. His new position also showed his back to Bright whilst she attended her charges. “As am I. Now that I view matters with hindsight’s benefit, I believe that I should have sent for thee, rather than argue the matter with the others like a belligerent colt. Thy presence at the meeting, e’en if half our number objected, would have resolved the matter. Yet I felt it more important to sway the others to my own position than to seek a proper resolution to the matter. In that I erred, and did thee a wrong.”
“Thy error is regrettable.” I offered him a gentle smile to take the condemnation out of my words. “Yet also forgivable. I too have sometimes found myself so diverted. ‘Tis easy to become so concerned with being seen to be correct that one neglects to actually take the proper course of action.”
“I am grateful for thy grant of absolution, dear Shadow.” The smile he gave me in return was small, but seemed all the more genuine for it. “Thy presence has ever been a gift to me, o'er the past year.”
“As has thine own, to me.” My tongue darted ‘cross my lips, a sign of my own nerves. ‘Twas silly for a mare of my age and maturity to act so nervously before a stallion, yet I could not entirely restrain myself. ‘Twould seem that all the old poets, bards, and philosophers were quite correct: love could make a fool out of even the wisest ponies.
Rightly closed his eyes and slowly took a breath, then met my gaze with his own as he extended a hoof to me. “Let us move forward together, then.”
I had some difficulty finding my next words. I had long anticipated the day when we could finally bring ourselves to speak of the growing feelings ‘tween us. Now that the words were actually being said...
Enough. I was no blushing maiden to be undone by a few words from a stallion, however fine he might be. I took his hoof in my own. “When matters are more settled we must discuss the course we shall chart. Would that we could speak of such things now, but...”
“We’ve too many other duties that must occupy our minds for the moment.” Rightly held my hoof for a few moments longer, before reluctantly releasing it. “I look forward to our talks of the future, but before we tend to that we must address the problems of the present. Let us put aside personal matters and convene as ephors, and equals 'mong ourselves. Pegasopolis looks to us for leadership, especially now that it has no Commander.”
Would that such were not the case. More’s the pity that Rightly and I could not find the chance to speak of our mutual affection in less turbulent times. Or mayhaps ‘twas a blessing in disguise; ‘ere these troubles began, we were both content to suffer in noble silence whilst Rightly mourned his wife’s passing. The threat that we might be sundered by political turmoil had finally driven us to speak openly of such things. Regardless, now was not the time for such thoughts. “Indeed. We shall attend our duties for the moment, and set aside those other matters for better times.”
For a time afterwards, we contented ourselves with watching the Chargers at their craft. As befits their name, the Chargers based much of their tactical doctrine around the lance charge. However, it would be a mistake to think that the Chargers simply blindly attacked and lacked any tactical diversity. While the lance was the core of their strength, knowing when and how to apply that was just as important. The Charger tactical doctrine was to find the enemy’s weakest point, and strike with overwhelming force. To shatter formations, kill leaders, and reduce armies to little more than disorganized mobs.
A bold and dangerous way of war, but its effectiveness could not be disputed. However, aside from my own clan’s ways, I am fonder of the methods used by Rightly. His clan and my own are much in accord, when it comes to seeking open battle: neither of us will commit to a full clash until we’ve all but assured our victory. However, where my clan preferred subterfuge and indirect strikes to sap the enemy’s strength, Rightly’s skill lay in the realm of politics, planning, and preparation of the battlefield. To maximize his own advantages, while removing those of the enemy and inflicting new ills upon them. While the methods differed, the end result was much the same.
Eventually, Bright Charger noticed that our conversation had drawn to a close. She removed her helm and set aside her lance before approaching us, an easy smile on her face. “I trust my clan has properly shown the mettle?” Rightly and I both assured her that they had. “The appointed hour nears. I expect our fellow ephors shall be joining us shortly.”
Rightly gave a short nod. “Very good, we’ve much to discuss and little time to discuss it. With every passing hour in which leadership is uncertain, our citizens grow more apprehensive. I hope that—” Whatever Rightly was about to say next was swallowed by the sound of metal on metal as two of Bright’s clanmates slammed into each other far closer above our heads than I cared for. Rightly spared them an annoyed glower. “I didst not expect a rain of mail links when thou didst offer to host our meeting, Bright. A curious tactic.”
“I thought it prudent to run more vigorous exercises than normal, in light of recent events,” she explained.
The implications of that statement sat poorly with me. “You speak as if war is coming, even though Celestia has already given her pledge of peace.”
“I pray that her pledge is genuine,” Bright answered me easily. “But she’s given us little reason to trust her word. 'Tis prudent to see to the readiness of our defenses.”
Rightly gave a grim nod at her words. “Celestia's departure is a promising gesture, though Sunbeam Sparkle adorning a rope would be a more telling indication that she wishes for peace, and there will be no further errors in the Queen's judgement. I hope the necessity for such drills is short-lived.”
“As do we all,” Bright frowned at two of the younger ponies, barely out of their foalhood, training with lances that seemed almost comically oversized. “Even if we cannot trust their word, the fact remains that war is in none of our interests. ‘Twould be as harmful to the earth ponies and unicorns as ‘twould be to us. More, quite likely.”
“All governments look to their own interests first and foremost,” Rightly declared. “Such is true even here, and war so seldom is in anypony’s best interests.”
I saw an opportunity to offer an olive branch to my fellow ephor. While my exclusion from the council still wounded my pride, nothing good could come of nursing a grudge on the matter.“Whatever our other disagreements, I trust the entire ephorate is in accord in its desire for peace.”
“Naturally.” Bright Charger turned to me, and after a moment’s hesitation spoke. “Your exclusion from our discussion on Celestia’s dismissal was unfair, but at the time it seemed a political necessity. I apologize for any offense given, and hope that the incident will not unduly poison our friendship.”
I was unsure how best to respond, if only because I was torn between my desire to settle the matter and my knowledge that more conflicts were all but inevitable regardless. After some time, I settled ‘pon my response. “I accept your apology in the spirit it is offered, and hope that any future conflicts ‘tween us can also be settled easily and amicably.”
“As do we all,” Bright agreed.
Rightly offered the two of us an approving nod. “Very good, then. Returning to the matter at hoof, I think we can all agree that readiness for conflict does not reflect desire on our part, but is only prudent in these tense times. If nothing else, ‘tis quite possible the griffons or some other power might believe that the current political instability has rendered Equestria vulnerable to attack.”
Bright made a vague noise to signal her agreement, though her attention seemed focused at the entrance to the compound. “The others approach. ‘Twould seem we are to begin soon.”
“Ah. Good.” Rightly ran a hoof through his mane, removing a single steel link which must have found its way there from the earlier clash. “Were I to linger here any longer, I might don my helmet. I find myself unprepared for such weather.”
“I think ‘twould be simpler for us to meet indoors,” Bright Charger offered, directing a perturbed look at the broken link of mail. “Though first, ‘twould seem I must speak with the trainers. Cuts and bruises heal, but repairing armor is a far larger task.” Once she’d spoken with the ponies supervising the training yard, she made her way to her clanhold’s central complex, while I and the other ephors followed in her wake.
As we walked, I found my course kept me near Rightly’s side. I was gladdened by the regard he had shown me, and yet as we walked a most curious and troubling thought occurred. While I knew it could not possibly be so, I found it difficult for me to fully remove the idea from my mind. The very idea that Rightly might have played ‘pon my affections to bind me more tightly to the ephorate just as my loyalties began to waver was absurd.
And yet, I could not entirely remove the treacherous thought from my head. Fie upon politics, for making me think such things.
Bright Charger had set aside one of the finer rooms in her compound for our use. Though most unwinged ponies would simply see another room filled with clouds, we all appreciated the additional comfort provided by resting couches spun by the best cloudcrafters. (7) She had also arranged for refreshments in the form of small steel bowls of fruits set alongside each of the couches. ‘Twas a small measure of hospitality, but a much appreciated one.
7: Most groundpounders think all clouds are the same, and even a lot of weather ponies don’t really know much about clouds beyond the basic stuff that’s actually relevant to weather work. Sure, just about any pegasus can do basic cloudshaping, but there’s a huge difference between that and what a properly trained cloudshaper can do. For starters, high-level clouds like cirrus are great for making hard surfaces to imitate land-based furniture and architecture, while stratus and low-level cumulus clouds are softer and fluffier, making for great cushions and beds.
The five of us took our seats in a rough circle, myself between Rightly and Steel, whilst Bright Charger sat at Rightly’s left, and Swift Blade ‘tween her and Steel. As befitted her place as our host, Bright Charger called the meeting to order. “My fellow ephors, I must thank you all for honoring my home with your presence.”
“As we honor you for your hospitality,” the four of us responded, as tradition dictated.
Bright nodded to each of us in turn before she continued. “I think it best if we dispense with the usual ceremony and pleasantries, in light of the situation. We have several matters of grave import to discuss, and I am disinclined to delay such while we all make polite inquiries as to the health and wellbeing of each other and our respective clans.” In truth, Bright Charger had never shown a great deal of patience for such idle chatter even in more settled times. Like many of her clan, she preferred decisive action to extended discussion.
When nopony objected to her suggestion, she continued. “I propose that our first order of business be the selection of a new Commander, given that the office is currently unoccupied. I suggest that we name Rightly Doo to the post.”
“I object,” I spoke the words quickly, before the others could voice their agreement with the choice. ‘Twould have been all but impossible to bring the matter to discussion if I allowed the other ephors time enough to voice their approval. Once the votes were cast my dissent would be little more than a minor annoyance, but by striking early I could at least bring the matter to discussion.
Swift Blade was first to address me. “By all means, elaborate on the matter. What is the nature of your objection? I take it you have another candidate in mind?” Though he did not speak the words, ‘twas clear he expected me to suggest restoring Celestia.
I had no intention of doing such a thing. While I certainly wished to see Celestia returned to her proper place, I was well aware that my fellow ephors would not hear of it. I saw little point in destroying what credit I held ‘mongst the ephorate in pursuit of a lost cause. Better to seek and win a smaller but no less meaningful victory. “Celestia’s removal is but a day old. We’ve not had time to make a proper review of all potential candidates.”
Though ‘twas but a delaying tactic, it could prove a useful one. In a few weeks, once passions had cooled and the others had more time to consider the wider implications of their actions, I might have a better environment to plead Celestia’s case. Once we went about selecting our new leader, that pony would almost certainly hold the post until their retirement to the gerousia. Such a thing would mean Celestia would have no hope of regaining her post for years.
I was surprised when Steel Striker spoke next, his voice a low rumble like a restive thunderhead. “Appointing Rightly would also leave a seat in the ephorate unoccupied. Need to decide who would fill it.”
Bright Charger gave a faint scoff even she offered a conceding wave of her hoof. “Reasonable enough points, but how long do you propose we leave Pegasopolis without its Commander? If it comes to that, we can endure an absence in the ephorate far more easily. There will still be four of us to attend to matters.”
“Managed well enough for the last century,” Steel grunted.
“Nevertheless, an appointment of such scale is not one to be made in haste,” I countered. “Better that we do without a Commander for a short time to ensure that we’ve chosen the best pony for the job.”
“You’ve some objection to Rightly, then?” Swift asked.
Had I not spoken to Rightly before the meeting began, that question might have unnerved me. As it was, I still selected an apple from the bowl at my hooves and chewed thoughtfully ‘pon it, so that I might have a few seconds to consider my answer. “I think Rightly would make an excellent Commander, but I’ve not yet had occasion to know the virtues of every single pony in all Pegasopolis. E’en if Rightly is ultimately selected, ‘tis proper to give other candidates due consideration.”
“A compromise, then,” Rightly proposed, idly picking out a few grapes from his own bowl. “Shadow and Bright’s points are both reasonable, so I would suggest we name one of our number as Acting Commander, until such time as we can see to selecting the best-qualified pony to properly fill the office. Is that acceptable to all?”
Bright Charger, Swift Blade, and Steel Striker all nodded. After a moment’s hesitation, I reluctantly did so as well. Though ‘twas all but certain that the Acting Commander would simply be confirmed when the time came, arguing the matter further would only serve to make me seem unreasonable. Better to accept a partial victory now than to squander what little I had gained. “Agreed. ‘Twould seem we are in accord on the matter.”
The others nodded once more. The matter settled, Bright Charger made the obvious move. “Unless there are any further objections, I propose that we elevate Rightly Doo to the post of A cting Commander of Pegasopolis.”
“I second the motion,” Swift Blade announced.
I forced myself to hold my tongue. I’d already spoken as well of his quality as I could, but ‘twas beyond me to actually cast my vote in his favor. However, active opposition to his candidacy would do nothing but set me ‘gainst all my fellow ephors once more, and possibly wound his pride. ‘Twould be a difficult thing for us to speak of plans for our future when all the wagging tongues in Pegasopolis spoke of how I was his chief opponent in the ephorate. In the end, I chose the middle course. “I abstain from voting in this matter.”
All eyes turned to Steel Striker, as Rightly was obviously barred from voting in the matter of his own appointment. Once more, the taciturn stallion surprised us all. “I would suggest another candidate.” Rightly and Swift both met his statement with polite curiosity, though Bright Charger gave an aggravated flick of her tail, seeming quite displeased by the emergence of yet another complication. Her discontent only increased when Steel named his candidate. “Shadow Kicker.”
I could scarce believe my own ears. He would name me, the only pony opposed to Celestia’s removal, as her replacement? I had certainly not expected such a move.
For once, Bright Charger and I were in accord. “Have you taken leave of your senses, Steel? Why would you even suggest such a thing? Is this some manner of jest?”
“Peace, Bright,” Rightly gently chided his sister-in-law, before returning his attention to Steel Striker once more. “By all means, explain your reasoning.”
Such was the importance of this matter that Steel actually spoke several proper sentences to make his case. “The new Commander will have to work with Celestia. Need to negotiate for food and magical gear; she still has the other two tribes. Best if the pony doing that can get along with her. Trusted. Respected. Going to be hard for any of the ponies who voted her out to do that.”
Swift Blade nibbled on a date, a thoughtful frown on his face. “Thy argument is more compelling than I’d expected, Steel. In addition, ‘tis no secret that there is a great deal of tension and uncertainty regarding relations ‘tween the three tribes at this time. Selecting Shadow would send a clear signal to Celestia that we wish for continued good relations, not pointless conflict.”
“Well of course relations would be better when she takes all her marching orders from Celestia,” Bright Charger growled. “What is gained by removing Celestia if we simply allow a proxy to rule in her stead? And that is not to mention that she is the youngest of us; ‘tis most unusual to elevate the most junior member of the ephorate.”
“Unusual, but far from unprecedented. There have been many younger ponies who’ve held the post of Commander in the past.” Rightly turned and favored me with a fond smile. “Shadow is no fresh-faced filly, regardless. As regards thy other concerns, Shadow is better than that. Though she opposed Celestia’s removal, I believe that if she were named as the new Commander she would faithfully discharge the duties of her office.”
Flattering as it was to hear such words from Rightly, the very idea that I might be named as Celestia’s replacement stirred unsettling feelings in my heart. For a moment, I was sorely tempted to accept the offer. As Commander, I could do much to help pave the way for Celestia’s eventual restoration, if all went well. That is not to mention that it would calm the current tensions. And ‘twould be a lie to say that I was not somewhat tempted by the thought of holding high office.
However, to actually take the post from Celestia’s hooves... for all that I could see the benefits of such a course, I could not escape the idea that such an act would constitute a betrayal of the trust she had put in me. I would go from her faithful servant to her equal, the leader of another sovereign nation. And as Rightly said, once I became Commander, I would be constricted by bonds of duty. There would be times when the interests of Pegasopolis came into conflict with those of Unicornia and the earth ponies, and such would inevitably create conflict between myself and Celestia as well.
I held up a hoof to forestall any further conversation on the matter. “Though I am honored that some of my fellow ephors feel me worthy of taking on the post of Commander, even on a temporary basis, I feel that I must respectfully decline any such offers, and clarify that I have no intention of serving as Acting Commander of Pegasopolis.”
Rightly and Steel Striker both frowned at my declaration, but voiced no objection. Bright Charger, unsurprisingly, seemed pleased by my withdrawal. I do hope that the rising conflict between us over political matters did not continue; I had no wish to make an enemy of her. Yet despite the earlier assurances and her offer of hospitality, I had begun to fear that our differences were growing in severity. I can only hope that once the matter of command is set aside, matters will normalize ‘tween us.
“So, ‘twould seem that Rightly is our Acting Commander then,” Swift Blade concluded. He consumed a few olives, a slight frown on his face as he chewed.
Rightly gave a single grave nod. “I shall do my utmost to serve with distinction, and restore honor to the post of Commander.”
“Of that there is no doubt.” Swift tapped a hoof against his chin. “And yet I am still troubled. Take no offense, Commander, I do not question your ability in the slightest. However, I do wonder if there is anypony who can contend with the will of Celestia. She is an immortal being of immense power and experience, while you are but an ordinary mortal.” After a brief silence, Swift dismissed the thought with a shrug. “I suppose that must be the way of it, though. There was only one pony who could ever stand as Celestia’s true equal, and she lies sealed in the moon.”
“More’s the pity that Commander Luna fell to madness,” Bright Charger opined. “My grand-uncle Dawnburst told me of some of the tales his grandfather told him when he was but a colt. Those tales certainly made her seem far better a leader than her sister.”
“Madness.” Swift glanced upwards, the faintest hint of a smile on his face. “Yes, that is what the histories say. But then, I imagine that had Luna triumphed, we would have tales of how Celestia was a power-mad tyrant who sought to destroy the ancient rights of the pony tribes. ‘Tis the victors who write the histories.”
Rightly pointedly cleared his throat to put an end to the tangential conversation. “Now that we’ve chosen an Acting Commander, what other matters lie before the ephorate to resolve?”
Bright Charger turned from Swift Blade, and offered Rightly a smile. “First, I think I should congratulate thee upon thy elevation, brother. While there are a number of administrative matters to attend to, I think there is one other matter of particular import to discuss. The earth ponies shall be electing a new chancellor of their own soon.”
“So?” Steel offered with his usual brevity.
Bright shot a faintly annoyed look at the laconic stallion. “I should think the relevance obvious. Celestia’s opponent—Apple Tree, I believe the name was—has begun to gain considerable momentum. I think ‘twould be in the interests of Pegasopolis to aid her in whatever way we can.”
“Neigh.” I did not even realize I’d spoken the words until after they left my lips. ‘Twas bad enough that Celestia had lost her position in Pegasopolis. If the earth ponies removed her too, ‘twould be all but impossible for her to ever recover. Much of my hopes for her restoration rested ‘pon the idea that Pegasopolis would be at odds with the other tribes for as long as Celestia ruled them. If she were removed by the earth ponies, those hopes would be naught but ashes and dust in the wind.
Such reasoning would hardly prove compelling to my fellow ephors, however. Thankfully, I had other means by which to defend my position. “Have we already forgotten how offended we all were when the unicorns sought to insert themselves into the internal affairs of Pegasopolis? And now we propose to subject the earth ponies to the same indignity? Let them elect who they will as their chancellor. ‘Tis a strictly internal matter.”
Steel gave a sharp nod. “Not our business.”
I was unsurprised when Swift Blade moved to support Bright Charger’s position. ‘Twas becoming clear that the battle lines were drawn, and factions were forming. Steel seemed favorably inclined to my own position, at least insofar as maintaining relatively friendly relations with Celestia and moving cautiously went, while Bright Charger and Swift Blade seemed more inclined to take action. Rightly occupied the middle ground, content to hear both sides make their case before operating as the swing vote.
“I hardly think we need do something as invasive as the unicorn inspection,” Swift Blade answered smoothly. “Such activities would indeed be most inappropriate. However, we can hardly ignore the fact that our position is much more secure if Celestia no longer holds sway over the earth ponies. There are certainly measures we can take to encourage Apple Tree’s victory without crossing beyond the bounds of propriety.”
Bright Charger offered a sharp nod. “We need hardly campaign for her openly to aid her candidacy.”
Rightly closed his eyes in thought for several seconds before he spoke. “In times when the earth pony elections actually had meaningful outcomes, ‘twas common for Pegasopolis to send an envoy to those candidates who seemed likely to win. ‘Tis a useful means of gaining the measure of the new potential chancellor, and ensuring a smooth transition of power and continued good relations ‘tween the tribes. ‘Twould be entirely fitting and proper to do such a thing in this case as well.”
My ears flicked at the words entering them. “This is unwise. We speak of not seeking conflict with Celestia, yet now you make plans to undermine her? In doing this, we play in the hooves of Sunbeam Sparkle, or whoever is to take her place at Celestia’s side. We would prove ourselves enemies to Celestia, rather than simply ponies who held grievances with certain lapses in her performance.”
“There may be some truth to your words.” Swift Blade conceded, “Yet peace is best maintained by bringing all parties to relative parity. A situation where two of the pony tribes stand united ‘gainst the third is inherently unstable. Better that we offend a few unicorns by acting to preserve peace than allow such a volatile imbalance of power to persist.”
Steel scowled at nothing in particular. “Politics. Ugly business.”
“Thus, why I care so little for it,” Bright Charger announced with a cavalier toss of her head. For one who so disliked matters political, she did display an impressive degree of skill. “However, as good stewards of Pegasopolis, ‘tis our duty to act in a way which protects the interests of Pegasopolis. Can any here deny that, as things currently stand, Celestia’s defeat would be to our benefit?”
Much to my chagrin, ‘twas not a weak argument. So long as the ephorate sought to maintain a degree of independence from Celestia, ‘twas only logical that they weaken her position among the earth ponies. However, such a move ill-suited my purposes.
“Shadow?” Rightly prompted. “Wouldst thou say anything further on the matter?”
I could conjure no reasons beyond those already given. “I repeat that we must avoid entangling ourselves in the internal political affairs of other tribes, lest we find ourselves as intrusive as the unicorns.”
“A fair point,” Bright Charger conceded to my surprise. “Which is why I would suggest that for now we adopts the compromise measure suggested by Acting Commander Rightly.”
‘Twas a distressingly effective final gesture. In one fell swoop she’d associated her measure with Rightly and made herself seem reasonable and even-hoofed. Though it pained me to confess it, Bright had gotten the better of me. Though ‘twas inevitable, perhaps; from the start, she’d held the far stronger position.
Though it came as little surprise, it still pained me when Rightly offered a quick apologetic look to me before nodding his consent. It came as no surprise, though; Bright had done well in prompting him to offer a solution on the matter. Anypony would be inclined to favor a course they had suggested themselves.
After several long seconds, Steel Striker also offered a reluctant nod. “Rightly’s idea works, long as we don’t get sucked in any further.”
Damnation, Steel was not standing with me on this matter. Not that the outcome would have changed if Rightly had already been persuaded, but I would prefer not to find myself alone once more in my opposition. “I vote against this measure.”
Rightly offered me a faintly apologetic smile. “Understood, Shadow. The measure passes at four votes in favor, one opposed.”
I began to experience a quiet sort of dread building in the depths of my stomach. I could not help but suspect that ‘ere the day was out, there would be many more matters brought to vote, and all would end with a similar majority. I felt less an ephor, and more an unwelcome guest. There was nothing I could do to alter the course of the ephorate, save a few minor delays.
I faced the indignity of being an ephor, and thus being tied to the ephorate’s every decision, whilst having little ability to affect the ephorate’s policies. I could not even distance myself from their choices beyond a few private assurances. Though the ephorate may dissent in private discussion, ‘twas most unseemly for such disagreement to be taken into the public realm—especially when discussing matters that we’d already ruled upon. E’en if I had chosen to become the Acting Commander, I likely would be forced to implement and support policies I had no faith in.
I was helpless. Trapped. The situation was intolerable.
Bright Charger’s arrival at my clanhold a few days after the Ephorate’s last meeting was most unexpected. E’en moreso when she spoke of what brought her to me.
Her reception at the compound was less hospitable than I would have liked. ‘Twas no secret that she and I had come into regular conflict over the matter of Celestia and the future direction of Pegasopolis. Even to those like my father who felt I offered the former commander more loyalty than was her due, the duties of clan and family took precedence. ‘Tis the nature of families to disagree in private, yet stand united ‘gainst any outside opposition.
I approached Bright Charger, who was accompanied by the usual escort of her own clanponies. Unlike many of their clan of late, her escorts showed no signs of their rigorous drills; their gleaming steel armor was polished to a mirror shine, and free of even the slightest signs of damage. E’en their mail, which was normally left in a less decorated state due to lying largely beneath the plate, looked freshly oiled. ‘Twas clear my fellow ephor sought to make something of a display. As I passed near, one of the younger members of her force grumbled two quiet but clearly audible words: “Celestia’s whorse.”
I froze at the insult, e’en as every single Kicker within earshot tensed. Armored hooves clattered against each other, and blades sang as the wings bearing them unfurled. If I had but given the word, my clan would have fallen ‘pon the Chargers and ended them.
However, when matters did come to blows, it was in a way few would have anticipated. One of Bright Charger’s forehooves lashed out, catching the soldier who’d offered me insult full ’pon the muzzle. The sound of bone giving way beneath a steel-shod hoof carried clearly ‘cross all the clanhold, and the young Charger fell to his knees, clutching his face e’en as blood pooled on the clouds ‘neath him. Bright Charger offered the soldier a withering glare. “Shadow Kicker is an ephor of Pegasopolis, and thou shalt offer her all the respect that office is due. Is that clear?”
Though the foolish young soldier was in no condition to offer a verbal response, his chastened nod was answer enough. My fellow ephor turned to two of the others within her escort. “Remove him, before he brings further shame ‘pon his clan.” Her clanponies fulfilled her orders with all due haste, carrying the wounded stallion from my hold.
While her own escort exchanged hostile glares with my clanponies, Bright met me with a congenial smile, if perhaps also a strained one. I was surprised to note that she came to my clanhold unarmed—setting aside that she’d just demonstrated that an armored hoof can cause no small amount of injury on its own. Given the rather tense state of things between the ponies of our clans ‘twas not hard to guess at her reasons for not bearing arms. When she spoke, her tone carried the careful civility of one who knew that the slightest verbal misstep might lead to regrettable consequences. “I apologize for the actions of my kin, Shadow Kicker. Will you or yours demand satisfaction on the matter? I’ll not stand in his defense, nor allow any other in my clan to do so.”
Despite the offense to my honor, I saw no point in seeking juris ungula over the matter. No doubt Bright Charger had so quickly and harshly disciplined the stallion in the hopes of saving the young fool’s life. Had she not done so, I would have had little choice other than to demand blood for such an insult. Thankfully, such was no longer necessary to satisfy honor; given the current tension ‘tween our clans, open bloodshed would only make things worse. “I do not think juris ungula will be required in this matter, provided that he is appropriately disciplined by his own clan.”
“He shall be, this I swear to you.” Bright offered a slow, respectful nod to me. “However, I did not come to your clanhold so that I might see my own clanponies shame me. My business is such that I would prefer to speak with you in private. There are things I would discuss, and not where all Pegasopolis might hear us.”
Though I wondered at what she might wish to say to me, given the current state of things between our clans, I could hardly refuse such a request. Indeed, given that she had made a point of coming to my clanhold bearing no weapons, it seemed quite likely her intention was to calm the very tensions that troubled me. “I would not deny hospitality to my sister ephor.”
“But of course not.” Bright cast a final, pointed look back at her escort, then stepped forward to walk at my side. “As your honored guests, we will of course conduct ourselves in a manner befitting the hospitality you have so graciously offered us.” She gave a flick of her head, as if dismissing a particularly troublesome insect from her mind. “Now then. I confess that with all the troubles plaguing Pegasopolis of late, I’ve had precious little opportunity to take even a moment’s relief. Might I request that we speak in your clan’s baths?”
“I’ve no objection to it.” In truth, I found myself in much the same situation. ‘Tween the duties of my station and the troubles that had plagued me, especially of late, there had been precious little time to see to my own cleanliness, let alone set aside any time for proper relaxation. The baths would certainly suit the sort of private conversation Bright no doubt sought as well. (1)
1: Baths were one of the few luxuries which even the most conservative and spartan Pegasopolans regularly indulged in. While most bathhouses were open to the public, most of the major clans also operated smaller, private facilities within their clanhold. Given that bathhouses were a traditional place of leisure, relaxation, and socialization, it should come as no surprise that a great deal of informal politicking went on in Pegasopolan bathhouses. In fact, Pegasopolan bathing customs actually transferred over to unicorn and earth pony societies, though unfortunately social customs have shifted to the point that this has largely died out in modern Equestria.
Our bathhouse was a relatively modest affair, though not lacking in any of the essentials. Bright Charger and I began in one of the steam rooms, where a roiling thundercloud provided more than sufficient heat for the waters. Once we settled in, we spent a few minutes exchanging the usual pleasantries: Bright Charger asked after my father and daughter, while I spent a considerably longer amount of time making inquiries into her own rather more prodigious brood. I do wonder how she has managed to uphold the duties of Ephor and materfamilias both while also seeing to the raising of nine foals. Even though she’d spaced the births over the course of her career and opted to sire two of them rather than carry, ‘twas a considerable burden of motherhood.
Once she finished speaking of her youngest’s keen desire to come of an age where his training could begin, we both judged that the appropriate courtesies had been exchanged, and she wasted no more time moving to the true matter. “I would ask a boon of you, Shadow. It is my keen hope that, in addition to the direct aid you render in this matter, such an exchange of favor might allow our clans to enjoy better relations with one another.”
I took the excuse of brushing out my mane to give myself time to consider the proposal. I could conjure no reason not to at least hear the rest of her proposal. Though I misliked her politics, there was no profit in escalating the matter beyond a simple difference of opinion in the Ephorate’s chambers. We disagreed, and would likely continue to do so for the forseeable future, but we should do so in a manner befitting our status as ephors of Pegasopolis. “I would gladly seek better relations with your clan. What boon would you have of me?”
Bright Charger languidly stretched and spread her wings, an easy smile on her face. “Come now, Shadow, there is no need for us to stand ‘pon formality. ‘Tis no secret that Rightly would court thee, and that thou wouldst welcome such. Such a union would make us all but kin.”
I regarded her for several long moments, pondering the invitation. To reject an offer of friendship out of hoof would hardly endear me to her, but at the same time I was hesitant to grow any closer to a pony who stood as one of Celestia’s most passionate foes. Only Swift Blade seemed more firmly against her, and ‘twas always Swift’s way to remain silent and avoid the public eye. I do not know what Commander Celestia would think if she learned that I named one of her keenest foes as a close companion. However, Celestia was now far distant from Pegasopolis, and prudence dictated I look to my clan’s own wellbeing first and foremost. ‘Twas not as if I sought to conclude a full-fledged alliance with the mare; I would simply place my clan and hers on better terms.
The decision made, I nodded and slowly sank in the waters until nought but my head remained above the surface. “Aye, such a union would bear those consequences. Though for all the joy wedding him would bring me, ‘twas only through thy sister’s tragic passing that such could come to be. I think that given the choice, I would be happier if thy sister lived, and I never had the opportunity to wed him.”
A ghost of old but not forgotten pain crossed her face. “Aye. Though I bear thee no animosity, I would prefer that thou didst not have the choice to wed him as well.” She closed her eyes and briefly ducked her head under the water. When she emerged, the old pains had left her eyes, and once more she wore a strained smile. “But I would not have Rightly spend his whole life in mourning for my sister. If thou canst bring him joy, then so much the better.”
“I am glad to hear it.” In truth, I had often wondered if Bright Charger might be hostile to the idea of a union ‘tween Rightly and myself. ‘Twas not beyond conceiving that such a thing might be seen as dishonoring her sister’s memory. I was much relieved to receive her blessing in the matter.
“And I am glad to speak the words.” She offered me a kinder, more genuine smile, though it soon faded to a mild grimace. “But we did not come here to discuss such trivial matters—we have the business of our clans to be about.” She paused, brushing a hoof through her tail several times as she carefully considered her words. “The latest adjustments to the allotments have made me aware that I have need of certain skills within my clan. Skills that thy clan is best suited to instruct mine in.” (2)
2: Because a great deal of Pegasopolan military power lay in the hooves of the major clans, most of which preferred to stick to their own traditions and customs when it came to training and equipment, the Ephorate often had a difficult time maintaining a flexible, cohesive army. The allotment existed to counteract this tendency towards overspecialization by requiring that a certain percentage of every clan’s pegasi be trained to at least basic proficiency in other styles of warfare. The exact ratios within the allotment were frequently adjusted, primarily to account for emerging needs within Pegasopolis and to allow the clans to adjust their tactics for likely opponents.
Though she did not speak the request directly, I had been present at the meetings in question, and was well aware of how the allotments had been adjusted. Some of those changes, including the one which I was all but certain brought her here, had been ones I staunchly opposed. “Name thy request, then.”
I wondered if Bright might attempt to avoid the difficult issue for a time, until she could find an appropriate way to delicately broach the topic. To my immense relief, she did nothing of the sort. Instead, she spoke simply and directly. “My clan does not have enough ponies trained in the ways of fighting spellcasters to meet the current allotment in a timely fashion. I would ask that you provide my clan with additional instruction.”
It was as I suspected, then. Though I’d opposed the alterations to the allotment, I could not deny the reasoning behind them. ‘Twas rare for the warriors of Pegasopolis to face proper spellcasters in open battle, and thus the skills for countering them had been allowed to fade from use. Valiant Doo’s inglorious defeat had shown a clear weakness, and in light of the rising tensions with Unicornia ‘twas only prudent to address that weakness. However, every step that Pegasopolis took in the process of preparing for war, however sensible, only increased the likelihood of such a war.
‘Twas a great irony that, despite my own position on the matter of relations with Unicornia, my own clan had more training in the art of hunting spellcasters than most. The maintenance of such skills was a natural outgrowth of my clan’s talent for the subtler forms of warfare: one of the better ways to kill a spellcaster was to do so by way ambush or assassination. Moreso than with any other class of warrior, the magus benefits from time to prepare for battle and properly gird themselves in spells, and is thus especially vulnerable to being taken unawares. In addition, much of the gear for best countering mages is specialized: cold iron is normally a poor choice compared to steel from our thunderforges, as it is naturally more brittle and its resistance to magic renders enchantment impossible. However, the same resistance that normally made cold iron a poor choice for open warfare makes it an ideal material for weapons meant to be used ‘gainst those who wield magic.
I confess that I was uncertain how to answer her. On the one hoof, refusal would only worsen the already tense relations ‘tween our clans. On the other, to offer her ponies training in the art of combatting unicorns left a sour taste in my mouth. Still, so long as the actual training was not put to such uses there was little harm in simply holding the knowledge, and the best means at my disposal for ensuring the continuation of peaceful relations ‘tween pegasus and unicorn was to hold a strong voice on the Ephorate. On the margins and friendless, I could do little good.
I opted for carefully measured neutrality. “An intriguing proposition.”
One of Bright’s ears twitched at my response. No doubt she’d hoped for a more encouraging response from me. She was not long deterred, though. “I would, of course, offer thee the usual considerations for such a favor. ‘Tis only proper.”
“Naturally.” Such had already been understood when the offer was made, though left unspoken. Though money was not an aspect of Pegasopolan society, we were not unfamiliar with the ways of commerce and trade. The exchange of boons and favors was well known to us.
Bright Charger grasped that fact as well as I, and correctly surmised that the current exchange was not entirely to my liking. Though I might have eventually accepted it, I suspected that Bright would willingly offer better terms in order to obtain an immediate answer. After half a minute of consideration, she validated those suspicions. “There are some within my clan who could no doubt benefit from in-depth instruction by thy own clan—my son Dusk, in particular. A fostering would seem a fine way to arrange such, presuming thou dost find such an arrangement acceptable.”
A fostering? An intriguing notion, and certainly one that made for a much finer trade. In truth, I suspect half my clan would question my worthiness to lead if I refused such an offer—I would wonder at it myself. To conceal my own eagerness, I opted for a few questions. “He is of an age with Gale, is he not?”
A smile crossed my fellow ephor’s lips. “That he is. If I might be so bold, I would think Gale would make a fine instructor for him.”
Ah, so that was the way of it. ‘Twas unsurprising, given Bright’s own fondness for bearing foals in the name of politics, that she would seek to encourage her children into unions of convenience. I certainly saw no harm in at least allowing an introduction; I’d not unduly pressure Gale in the matter, but if the two of them grew close over the course of Gale’s instruction, then so much the better. Gale was approaching the age when such things merited consideration.
Rather than directly answer the suggestion, I moved on to other matters.“How many of my clan wouldst thou require, and for how long?”
Bright’s smile broadened; no doubt because she knew, much as I did, that I would not care to discuss the exact terms of an arrangement that held no interest to me. The principal point of negotiation was already decided ‘pon—now ‘twas just a matter of aligning the details. Though ‘twas still possible the arrangement might fail, such was unlikely so long as all involved offered reasonable terms and were willing to bargain in good faith.
It took some time, but Bright and I eventually found our way to mutually agreeable terms. A dozen of my own would venture to Bright’s clanhold to offer instruction, and in exchange she would foster Dusk Charger to me for a six month period, in addition to the usual considerations to compensate me for the time and efforts of my clanponies. Perhaps most importantly, though unspoken, was the fact that she was now in my debt, in some small way. When the time came that I would require an equal boon of her, she would grant it willingly.
As we concluded the arrangement, I began to feel a cautious sense of optimism. Aye, I was still in the political minority, and under no illusions that this was likely to change in the immediate future. Bright and I might be on friendlier terms on a personal level now, but politically we remained opposed. The favor I was owed was nowhere near great enough to win me her support on the matter of Celestia, nor did I expect such.
Despite this, I felt as though I could at least have a valuable role in the new Ephorate. The voice of reasoned opposition is always a valued one, e’en when it speaks uncomfortable truths. By my presence on the Ephorate, I could hope to at least moderate their policies, and ensure that we did not needlessly antagonize Unicornia. ‘Twas an inglorious role, but undeniably an important one. And one that, for the moment at least, I was content to hold.
Dusk Charger arrived at my clanhold the next day, escorted by Gale. ‘Twas quite clear he was his mother’s son, though his mane and coat colors were the reverse of Bright Charger’s, and he sported the thin beginnings of a moustache. He yet lacked some of his mother’s muscle, instead seeming trim and athletic, though not quite so lithe as my daughter. Already he possessed several minor scars, no doubt a legacy of his initial service in the Long Patrol. There was an air of confidence surrounding him which did not seem to originate from outright egotism so much as the usual arrogance of the young and bold.
However, the most important fact of his appearance were the numerous fresh scrapes, scuffs, and bruises covering his body. Judging by the smile and polite salute with which he greeted me, I did not judge my daughter to be the cause of his wounds. That, however, only raised the question of precisely what had happened to the stallion to put him in such a state. At least his wounds all looked to be relatively minor.
Dusk stepped forward, politely inclining his head to me. “M’lady Ephor, it will be my honor to dwell ‘mongst your clan. For the next six months, I shall look upon you as a second mother.” (3)
3: Despite the substantial size of her brood, Bright Charger never married. Aside from her twins, each of her nine children was conceived with a different partner, most of them members of prominent clans or otherwise highly placed in Pegasopolan society. Bright Charger believed strongly in the value of family bonds as a means of gaining and maintaining political alliances—one must wonder whether she might have sought such an arrangement with Shadow, if not for Rightly.
“And I shall treat thee no differently than I do my own daughter,” I dutifully responded. I cast a significant look over his battered and disheveled state. “And if any child of mine were to return to the clanhold in such a state as thou dost find thyself in, I would have an explanation from them.”
Before Dusk Charger could provide me that answer, my daughter interceded, offering an annoyed glower towards her newly fostered brother as she did so. “On our way to the clanhold, we had the misfortune of encountering a number of drunken louts of low character and loose tongues. There was something of an altercation.”
“Honor demanded that I correct their behavior,” Dusk answered simply. “Their comments were crude and unworthy.”
“And the fact there were five of them to the one of thee was of little consequence,” Gale groused, sparing him a disdainful look.
“Six, by my count,” the young stallion answered, cheer evident in his voice despite his current state. “I could hardly begrudge them the advantage of numbers. It made the battle a fair one.”
Joy. ‘Twould seem that Dusk had indeed inherited much of his mother’s ways. Mayhap that was part of why Bright was so eager to foster him to my clan. The Chargers have long had a reputation for being too bold by half, in contrast to Clan Kicker’s fondness for less direct forms of warfare. Boldness was a fine trait for the young, but those who did not learn to temper that boldness with discretion were all too often fated for an early death.
I evaluated the young stallion now in my care once more, looking beyond the obvious signs of his most recent altercation. Yes, he was young and took valour to the point of foolishness, but that was a common affliction of young pegasi, or e’en ponies in general. However, Gale and Dusk himself both said that he’d sought battle on the basis of honor. There was a very great difference between one who would enter a conflict despite being outnumbered because honor demanded it and those who started needless battle merely to satisfy their own foolish bravado. Dusk Charger was much like a piece of thunderbolt steel: raw and unforged, but with the potential to become a formidable warrior if he could be properly shaped. The fact that he could engage in battle against such long odds and emerge relatively unharmed was testament enough to his ability.
However, much of that forging was not in my hooves. As Bright had suggested, the training of Dusk Charger was to be in my daughter’s hooves, so ‘twas her to whom I turned. “Gale, how dost thou intend to proceed with thy task?”
Gale turned to her new foster brother, a displeased frown on her face. “First and foremost, I think I will need to beat the foolhardiness out of him. He is an artless churl with the fighting skills of a goat and the manners of a timberwolf. Of all Bright Charger’s many foals, he is clearly the runt of the litter, and unworthy of being fostered to our clan. In all my many years, I’ve not seen a more clod-brained canker blossom that claimed to be a warrior of Pegasopolis. He is so dull of wit that to call him an arse-breathed mewling miscreant would be a compliment. The best use I could imagine for him is to toss him to the ground, so that he might at least be of use as a tail-leasing profligate.”
I began to suspect that my daughter was not overly fond of Dusk Charger.
For his part, Dusk turned to me, a faint smile on his face. “M’lady, your daughter is most charming and comely. Might I pay court to her?”
The sound of Gale’s teeth grinding ‘gainst each other was clearly audible.
So, ‘twould seem they had somehow fallen into the patterns of sibling rivalry within moments of Dusk’s fostering. Well, perhaps ‘twas time I put that energy to a more productive use than bandying idle words. “If my daughter is to teach thee our clan’s ways, she must first have an accurate assessment of thy current skills ‘pon the battlefield. A spar, then.”
I’d not seen Gale smile so widely since the last Hearth’s Warming. Unsurprising, given that I’d just granted her free license to strike the current object of her ire. For his part, Dusk regarded her with a pleasant smile that only served to intensify her own fury.
I had to wonder at just what had provoked such excessive hostility from my daughter. Gale is not normally given to such quickness of temper. If anything, she is far more level-headed than I, at times. Upon brief reflection, one obvious cause sprang readily to mind: Gale was wise enough to the ways of politics to guess at why she had been assigned to train a stallion of an age with her, from a clan I sought better relations with. ‘Twould not have surprised me in the least to learn that she opposed the match on the simple principle of it. Or, if not active in her opposition, at least quick to find fault with the stallion for the smallest of offenses.
Either she would warm to him in time or she would not. I had no intention of forcing the matter, regardless. A happy marriage would certainly be of use to me, but one where bride and groom despised each other would only damage relations between our clans. I would be just as satisfied with a bond of friendship as I would by one of romance. It would, perhaps, be prudent to speak with Gale on the matter at some point in the near future—ideally before her fury at the poor stallion drove her to doing something irreparable. At least Dusk seemed to be taking no insult from her choler, thus far.
Soon enough the two had exchanged their clan armor for the unadorned and unimpressive suits used for training purposes. Weapons were similarly padded and modified to reduce their impact, though e’en a practice lance at full charge will leave behind painful bruises or shatter bones with a heavy enough blow. As my recent visit to the Charger clanhold had demonstrated, training and spars could cause severe damage to the equipment, and the ponies wielding it. Though given my daughter’s current mood, I feared more for the stallion bearing the armor than for the wargear itself.
As the two stepped out onto the training fields, they quickly attracted an audience. While a good spar is always likely to draw a crowd, in this case there was more to the matter. My daughter’s involvement naturally drew eyes, given that I did keenly hope she would succeed me as leader of the clan—ponies are always eager to take the measure of their future leaders. However, the bulk of the attention rested squarely on Dusk Charger. The spar was to be his first real introduction to most of the clan, and his performance on the field would substantially impact how my kin viewed him. First impressions are a powerful thing. Though I naturally favored my daughter in the contest, I did hope he could at least acquit himself well enough to avoid any problems.
I suspected that Gale had no intention of allowing him to do so, however. No doubt she sought to vent her choler at him by making a mockery of him whilst all the clan stood witness. So long as she did not descend to a level of cruel pettiness I did not think her likely to seek, I saw little reason to intercede. Dusk Charger was a warrior of Pegasopolis, and well capable of fighting his own battles. Indeed, coddling him would bring him far more shame than merely allowing Gale to show the inadequacies of his current training.
Dusk Charger bore the traditional lance of his clan. A dangerous weapon, but one in many ways better suited to the battlefield than a spar. Though Bright Charger had proven herself deadly with it in many a duel, most ponies had difficulty wielding it in close quarters; I’d never mastered the art for myself. My daughter bore wing blades much like my own, though anypony who knew her would grasp that the true threat lay not in the weapons she carried openly, but the ones she concealed.
As was her way, Gale wasted no time in engaging her opponent. A bare instant after I’d given the signal to begin, her wing snapped forward, launching a volley of her throwing spikes. E’en with their tips blunted for the spar, their impact would be unpleasant. Especially given that she had the skill to aim them for sensitive areas, and likely antipathy enough towards Dusk to do so.
Not that the young stallion had any intention of passively accepting my daughter’s blows. Though the first spikes caught him unawares and clattered ‘gainst his armor, when Gale struck again he took to the sky, his lithe form and powerful wings allowing him to quickly put distance between himself and his opponent. The throwing spike has many virtues—penetration, concealment, and quickness of draw among others—but range is not one of them. As suits my daughter’s role, her weapon of choice was better suited to sudden ambushes than extended open battle.
Gale took to the air after him, intent on closing the distance and harrying him until he conceded the matter. Whilst she could hardly still the flapping of her wings for time enough to unleash more of her throwing spikes, she had numerous other weapons at her disposal—more than once I’ve been impressed by her hidden armory. Dusk, for his part, had difficulty engaging her with his lance. Gale’s strategy was quickly apparent; the lance is at its deadliest when its wielder has a moment to bring it to bear and ready his strike. If Gale pressed him relentlessly enough, Dusk would never have that moment.
As the aerial duel continued one important fact became clear: for all my daughter’s nimble maneuvers and subtle ploys, she lacked the raw wingpower of Dusk Charger. Gradually, despite her efforts, he was able to pull free of her harassment. Once he grasped his advantage, Dusk quickly put it to use. Rather than try to shake free of her, he simply powered upwards in a straight climb. Gale’s agility was of little use in a contest of raw speed and strength, and he quickly pulled free.
However, when Dusk Charger turned about to begin his counterattack, my daughter had vanished from his sight. I’ve trained Gale well enough that she would not vainly attempt to win a contest where she was clearly outmatched, and in his rapid upward climb Dusk had made the critical mistake of taking his eyes off of my daughter for a few brief moments—more than sufficient time for Gale to drop to the clouds and conceal herself amongst them.
The battle now stood at a stalemate. Dusk dared not approach any of Gale’s hiding places, and Gale could not show herself openly and give him a target for his charge. So the two combatants waited, each hoping the other would commit some error that allowed them to turn the tide and claim victory.
After the stalemate persisted for several seconds, there was a brief flash of blue and white as the tip of Gale’s tail briefly poked above the clouds. To my surprise, Dusk did not immediately leap upon the seeming opening. No doubt he surmised, much as I had, that Gale would not make such a simple and careless mistake.
So the next phase began, as Dusk slowly drifted nearer the clouds, and Gale showed fleeting glimpses of her own position. Each hoped to goad the other into precipitous action, or that the other would so expose themselves with a feigned opening that a real weakness would be created.
In the end, ‘twas Dusk who made the first error. No doubt Gale had used the opportunity of his earlier skirmish with the drunken louts to take Dusk’s measure. Beyond that, there was the simple fact that Dusk clearly had not yet overcome the natural impulsiveness of youth. It took several difficult lessons to teach Gale the restraint she currently exercised, and she’d been careful and calculating by nature. Impatience is an all too common affliction of the young.
Gale’s head fully breached the clouds, and Dusk charged in. The fact that Gale neither showed any dismay nor made any desperate move to dodge him should have forewarned the young stallion of his peril, but he did not halt his attack. In the stallion’s defense, once one is fully committed to a lance charge, it is difficult to break the maneuver off without exposing oneself to far more danger than would be the case if simply seeing the charge through. A pony turning about and trying to halt their advance is a far easier target than one rushing past at full speed. His best hope now was to see the charge through, and hope that he could counter or endure whatever Gale intended for him.
Whatever the case, Gale quickly turned matters in her favor. When she fully emerged from her cloudcover I saw a length of chain in her hooves, punctuated with a heavy weight on each end, one of which she was currently spinning about to build momentum. I had less than fond memories of facing that particular weapon in spars. Gale had something of a fondness for more exotic arms, such as the meteor hammer she currently intended to use ‘gainst Dusk. In my experience, the main advantage of most of the more exotic weapons Gale preferred was their novelty; few ponies have ever fought against such, and that causes hesitance and uncertainty. Wing blades, hammer hooves, and lances are known quantities, while a meteor hammer is a much rarer weapon. However, once the initial shock wore off, Gale’s unusual weapons could be countered easily enough by most skilled warriors. Granted, my daughter prefers to secure her victory before that initial surprise has faded.
Despite the oddness of Gale’s weapon, Dusk had no choice but to hope he could defeat my daughter before she could bring her meteor hammer to bear. ‘Twas not a vain hope in the slightest; one of the larger weaknesses of the weapon was the fact that it required time to build enough momentum for a strike. Like many of Gale’s preferred weapons, it was far more effective ‘gainst a pony caught unawares.
The end of Gale’s chain snapped out, exceeding the reach of Dusk’s lance for long enough to catch him across the muzzle. The blow snapped the stallion’s head to the side and diverted his charge, causing him to plow into the clouds a few hoofspans to Gale’s side. My daughter wasted no time with her followup strike, wrapping her chain around his lance and yanking it away before he could even begin to recover. A tight, triumphant smile crossed her face as the lance landed at her hooves. “Thou art beaten, sir. Yield.”
Dusk slowly climbed back to his hooves, rubbing his muzzle where Gale had struck him. From the looks of things she’d pulled the blow enough to avoid doing him any lasting harm, though he’d still likely have a notable bruise in a few hours’ time. Such was hardly unusual after a bout on the training yard, though. Once he stood tall, the stallion offered my daughter a confident smile. “Yield? But madam, the match is yet in its opening phase.”
Gale’s only answer was a cold smile as she set her meteor hammer back into motion, slowly advancing on the unarmed stallion. Dusk slowly backed away, his eyes carefully following the weapon’s movements as he went. I’d half expected him to just charge in and accept any blows Gale landed; but his discretion showed that perhaps there was hope for the young stallion yet.
When his move came. it caught me by surprise. Rather than produce a new weapon, he removed one of his hoof coverings and tossed it at Gale’s face. Before the improvised missile could even come close to striking it crossed the meteor hammer’s path—the chain knocked it aside easily enough, but since Dusk’s weapon struck about halfway up the chain, it robbed the meteor hammer of much of its momentum. A few quick swings would resolve the matter, but Dusk had no intention of allowing that. He charged the instant he confirmed the success of his ploy.
Gale reluctantly dropped her meteor hammer—there was no time to bring it to bear before he closed, and in close quarters it was a poor weapon—and tried for another volley of throwing spikes instead. However, this time Dusk anticipated the move, and gave a few quick flaps the instant her wings twitched, carrying him over the attack. He came back down to Gale’s level with one armored hoof extended, almost using it as an improvised lance.
Gale tried to dodge to the side, but Dusk was upon her too swiftly for such a maneuver—all she managed was to ensure that she only took a glancing blow to the chest rather than a full one. ‘Twas fortunate for her that she did, for a full strength blow likely would have wounded her badly, and done no small amount of damage to Dusk’s foreleg as well. E’en with a mere partial blow, Gale still fell to the clouds, and then beneath them.
I wondered if my daughter intended to play the game of evasion once more, but ‘twould seem that for all my training there was yet an element of youthful pride to her. Rather than break contact and reengage under more favorable terms, Gale only slipped under the clouds for long enough to strike from below, planting both her forelegs in the stallion’s stomach. The force of the strike stole Dusk’s breath away, but my daughter is not possessed of great physical strength—the blow rocked him, but did not overturn him.
One of Dusk’s hooves lashed out at the same instant Gale’s wings snapped forward, each arresting their blow at the last possible moment. Dusk’s armored hoof rested squarely upon Gale’s muzzle, while her wing blade lay at his throat.
“A stalemate,” I announced. In truth, the battle could have continued to a firmer conclusion, but I saw little point in allowing more combat. I’d already taken the measure of Dusk Charger and my daughter both, and in breaking their current clench one or both might have taken injury. Better to end the spar now than risk things escalating beyond control.
The two combatants broke from one another, though Gale’s discontent was clear to see. “I had a blade at his throat, and the match is called a draw?” Judging by the intensity of the glare she directed at Dusk Charger ‘twas clear that Gale blamed him for the perceived injustice.
For his part, Dusk turned and offered a genial smile. “A fine match, Gale.” He offered his hoof to her. “We must do so again, at some point.”
Gale eyed his hoof in silent annoyance for some time, before reluctantly conceding to chivalry and shaking it. “I judge thy skills to be something approaching adequate. Had I been throwing real spikes or trying for a killing blow with my hammer, thou wouldst be dead several times over.”
“It is possible,” the stallion conceded with a faint shrug. “Though I would note that I did not seek thy lifesblood either. Let us hope we never have occasion to know the outcome of a true battle ‘tween the two of us.” He offered Gale a slight bow. “For as long as I am to be fostered by thy clan, I am to be as a brother to thee in many ways. ‘Twould be a pity if there were ever cause for discord ‘tween us.”
“I am certain I would find a way to endure it.” Gale, as seemed to be her rapidly developing habit, glowered at the stallion. After subjecting him to her poisonous glare for several more seconds, she turned to me. “Might I be dismissed, Mother? Our guest will require accommodations for the duration of his stay, and ‘twould seem that I am charged with such.”
Her words carried a clear undercurrent of resentment and anger which I misliked. Thus far I’d indulged her fit of pique, but my patience with her was wearing thin. Perhaps ‘twas time I had words with her on the matter. “Another can tend to that. There are things I would discuss with thee, daughter.” I turned to Dusk and offered a welcoming smile. “I hope that thou dost find thy stay in our clanhold pleasant and enlightening, young Charger. If thou art in need of anything, merely speak to one of my clanponies, and I shall do everything in my power to accommodate thy reasonable requests.”
“Your hospitality does you credit, m’lady Ephor.” Dusk offered me a quick salute and a smile of his own. “I already feel like unto a member of thy family.” He turned to Gale, his smile never faltering even in the face of her clenched teeth and glare. “Madam Gale, I thank thee for thy kindness in seeing me safely to thy clanhold, and for indulging me in a friendly spar. I look forward to training at thy side.”
With a visible effort, Gale managed to growl out a few polite words of her own. “A good day to thee, then.” As soon as the words left her lips, she turned her back on the stallion and marched to my side.
I put a single hoof on my daughter’s shoulders, letting it rest there heavily enough to make my displeasure clear. As Sergeant Stalwart took Dusk in hoof, I shepherded my daughter away from the public eye. Though I would not subject her to a scolding where all the clan could see, the knowing looks many of my ponies directed to her as we moved along revealed that my purpose was clear enough regardless.
Once we were safely out of sight in my private quarters, I gave Gale a sharp cuff on the back of her head. “Unacceptable. I raised thee to have better manners than that.”
Gale a raised a hoof to rub at where she’d been struck, but wisely restrained any impulse to complain about her well-earned punishment. I awaited her response, but was only met with silence. Once it became clear she would offer no answers of her own volition, I demanded them. “Dusk Charger is our guest, and has acted in every manner as a guest should. I will have an explanation for thy rudeness, or I’ll have thee on punishment duty for a month.” (4)
4: A common Pegasopolan (and modern Guard) practice for dealing with particularly unruly or disruptive soldiers. Potato peeling or latrine duty are the two most famous examples of this, but just about any assignment that’s boring, repetitive, involves dealing with garbage and excrement, or is otherwise unpleasant can do in a pinch. Punishment duties largely supplanted traditional flogging due to being more effective and not diminishing the soldier’s combat effectiveness. Some officers can get very creative with their punishment duties; I once spent several hours saluting every single creature that came within eyesight, including a family of squirrels. The cheeky buggers didn’t even salute back.
Gale’s ears went flat ‘gainst her skull, and she stepped back from me. Though she remained silent for some time after, the way her head hung low and she refused to meet my eyes made clear that her silence was not one borne of defiance, but shame. When at last she spoke her voice was quiet and chastened. “It was not my intention to bring dishonor ‘pon thee or our clan, Mother. If I have done so, then thou hast my sincerest apologies.”
I offered a single nod, pleased that she had at least conceded the existence of her error. While there were still matters left unresolved, now was not a time for harsh discipline. I stepped up to my daughter, and gently placed a wing ‘cross her back. “What troubles thee, Gale? ‘Tis most unlike thee, to behave so rudely before a guest.”
Gale stepped into my embrace, but remained silent nonetheless. I allowed her to simply take comfort in my presence for a time, before she gathered herself enough to provide me with an answer. “There is no singular thing that drove me to it, but rather a collection of events. Am I to be wed to him?”
Ah, so it was as I expected. Gale was too much of a free spirit to see the value of the arrangements I’d made for her. “Bright and I had given the matter some consideration, aye. A union ‘tween Charger and Kicker would do much to calm the current difficulties ‘tween our clans.” My answer caused Gale to begin worrying at her lower lip, and I made haste to clarify. “However, we would not have a union that would make either of thee unhappy. If he pleases thee then so be it, and if he does not then the matter can be set aside. We are not as unicorns, who would force thee to marry unwillingly for the sake of our bloodlines. All I ask is that thou dost show him the hospitality and decency he is due as our guest.”
“That much, I will offer him.” Gale turned her head, refusing to look at me for some time. “Beyond that ... there will be nothing. He does not please me in that manner, nor will he e’en if we become the dearest of friends over the next months.”
A curious statement. My first instinct was to wonder if I’d guessed wrongly at my daughter’s preferences by selecting a stallion, but that did not seem likely. I’d seen her make approving observations ‘pon stallions in the past, so it seemed unlikely to be a matter of preferences. My mind moved to the next logical conclusion. “Is thy heart already claimed by another, then?”
“Neigh!” Gale’s words came out quickly, but without the sort of haste that would imply that she sought to cover some hidden truth. I let my gaze linger on her expectantly, waiting to hear more in the way of explanation from her. When she answered me at last, there was a slight evasion to it, as if she sought to later the subject of our conversation in a subtle way. “That matter aside, I find his personality most grating. He is foolishly impulsive, and excessively ... cheerful. I do not trust a pony who smiles as much as he does. It is unseemly.”
I regarded my daughter levelly for several long moments. “Is that the extent of it? Thou art so unsettled by the mere fact of his pleasant temper that thou dost feel the need to treat him poorly?”
“There are ... other factors.” Gale fell silent once more, awkwardly shuffling in place. “Many of which I would rather not speak of with my mother, of all ponies.” She turned her head from mine, refusing to so much as meet my eyes. “I would appreciate it, Mother, if thou didst not attempt to arrange such things for me in the future. I will tend to such matters on my own, if at all.”
The wing I held ‘round her shoulders drew her in closer, and I offered her a gentle nuzzle. “Gale, what troubles thee so greatly? I did but think to look to thine own happiness. If I have erred in that, I would know the way of it so that I might avoid such errors in the future.” I gently turned her head so that I could meet her eyes. “Though I’ll confess I gave thought to the politics of the matter too, I would not have given Bright’s suggestion e’en a passing moment’s thought had I known it would bring thee such distress. Thou art my daughter, and I would not sacrifice thee for political gain.”
Gale turned and wrapped her forelegs around my neck, pressing her face into my shoulder. “I know, Mother. I am deeply sorry for having failed thee. If it is thy—” Her words were cut off in a brief, choked half-sob. “If I am no longer worthy to be thy daughter...”
“Nonsense,” I cut her off before she could go any further down that path. “Thou shalt always be my daughter, for I love thee dearly.” I kissed her gently ‘pon the head, and held her close to my breast.
More words passed between us, but such private moments ‘tween mother and daughter are not a thing I would share in this account.
The next full meeting of Ephorate and Gerousia both seemed a most curious experience to me. On the surface, ‘twas no different from any other gathering of the groups that I’d attended since my ascension to their ranks. However, the removal of Commander Celestia had cast things into stark contrast for me. Where before I had felt like a welcome comrade ‘mongst my peers, now the entire atmosphere of the place held an air of hostility I misliked. It felt as if I’d walked into an enemy camp, e’en though I was amongst my own kind.
For all that Bright’s gesture of friendship and camaraderie should have reassured me, in many ways it merely left me more troubled than I’d been before. ‘Twas touching to know that e’en despite our differences we both still served Pegasopolis, until the more troubling aspect of the matter occurred: that such a gesture had been needful in the first place. We should not need to go to such lengths merely to show that we still named each other as friends and sister ephors. Such should have been plain simply by virtue of our respective positions.
Though ‘twas normally my habit to accompany my father to these meetings, on this day I’d departed early so that I might speak with Steel Striker ere the meeting began in earnest. As it stood, he was the closest thing I had to an ally amongst the Ephorate. I hoped to make his moments of support for my positions firmer, and mayhap even sway him to my point of view. Or at the very least properly take his measure, and learn the extent of the support I could hope for from him.
Steel Striker sat in his accustomed place, alongside the two geronts who hailed from his clan. He raised a single eyebrow at my approach but said nothing, waiting to see why I’d approached him. Given Steel’s laconic nature, I thought it best not to waste words on small talk or dancing around my point. Like many who are blunt and direct, he appreciated the same from others. “Where do you stand, politically?”
He let out a neutral grunt to acknowledge the question, then remained silent for several seconds as he considered the matter. In a moment of irreverence, I wondered how much of his thoughts he occupied with pondering how to make his position clear with the fewest possible words. Despite his best efforts, his answer was not a short one, at least as he would reckon things. “When your point is fair, I will back you. When your position has no merit...” He trailed off, having no doubt presumed I could conclude the rest of the matter without requiring further words.
I did, though his answer was not what I would have preferred. I suppose it should come as no surprise; Steel had never struck me as one who would care for matters of faction and politics. He preferred to keep his own council, rather than conspire and consult with another.
He surprised me with an inquiry of his own. “Heard about you and Charger. Intriguing.”
“Aye.” I considered how best to explain the matter. “We’ve not found accord on the matters of Celestia and the future course of Pegasopolis, but we’ve at least come to an agreement on ... disagreeing.”
“Pity,” Steel answered, one of his wings giving a slight flick. “Hoped you might have come around.” My confusion at his remark must have shown clearly, because Steel opted to continue speaking to clarify his point. “Celestia’s out. Not going to change. No point fighting for a lost cause.”
So that was the way of it. Much as it irked me, I could not deny his logic. I was under no illusions as to the likelihood of Celestia’s return to power—barring the unforeseeable, Rightly would be confirmed as Commander of Pegasopolis within a few weeks’ time, and then the office would be his until he died or chose to retire. Considering his age and health, he might well be able to retain the post for decades. I would be lucky to still hold my position in the Ephorate when Celestia’s next opportunity to reclaim the Commandery arose; Rightly could hold the post so long as wished and was capable, while I would still be subject to the normal retirement age of the Ephorate.
“Heard you are providing Chargers mage hunter training.” Steel shot me a curious look. “Surprising, given your position.”
“I don’t believe they’ll have any need of it in the foreseeable future,” I answered him simply. “There are tensions, aye, but there’s no reason for things to move beyond that point.” I fell silent for a moment as my eyes drifted to the other ephors. “Though I disagree with the decision, Celestia’s removal was done in full accordance with Pegasopolan law. What cause could either side have for seeking war over the matter?”
“The simplest cause,” Steel offered. “Fear. Pegasi are scared Celestia will not accept the deposition, legal or not. Unicorns are scared we won’t stop with just removing her from Pegasopolis. All it takes now is for somepony to do something foolish, and...”
My mind went to some of the things that had passed in the last few days. Common soldiers disrespecting their betters over political matters. Brawling in the streets over points of honor. Ephors feeling the need to confirm that for all their differences there could be peace between them, and e’en all but exchanging hostages to seal that peace. It was a situation where a single spark could easily escalate matters beyond all reason.
However, it was not yet time to despair. “Matters will not come to that. Bright was quick to restrain her clanmates when they sought to act unwisely, and I would expect no less from yourself and the others. So long as we keep our younger and more foolish elements under control, there will be no offense so grave that it must provoke an open conflict.”
“Optimistic.” Steel scowled out at nothing in particular. “Matters could reach a point where we’ve little choice in how we react. Clans mind their paterfamilias, or mater, until the moment when they choose not to. I expect things are much the same ‘mongst the unicorns. Ponies are ponies, ground or cloud.” He turned and fixed me with a piercing gaze. “If blood is shed, blood must be demanded in return. That is the way of clans. Easy to get into a fight nopony wants.”
There was more logic to his argument than I would ever care to admit. If the blood of my clan were shed, I would not let such a thing pass unremarked—nor would any proper clan head. My control over my clan rested on the assumption that I would properly guide it and see to the protection of all its members. A leader who could not even protect her own clan would not long retain her post. As Steel said, much the same was likely true of the unicorns as well. Bloodshed could quickly reach a point where leaders would be all but compelled to go to war, regardless of their personal desires.
Thus, the buildup and war preparations in Pegasopolis, and likely Unicornia as well. ‘Twas not that either side desired a war in the slightest. However, once things reach a certain point, events begin to develop a sort of gravity. We cease to be the masters of our own destiny, instead compelled to act by forces far beyond our control. We did not prepare for war because we desired it; we made ready for battle because we feared that we could not stop it.
‘Twas not a line of thought I cared to linger on, especially as it brought an even more troubling question to mind. One which I suspect was a large part of why my fellow pegasi regarded me with such suspicion since Celestia’s removal. If matters did come to war, what would I and my clan do? Would we fight alongside our fellow pegasi, e’en against Celestia herself? Could I bring myself to do such a thing? To seek the blood of my rightful Commander in support of a government I stood morally opposed to?
Yet the alternative was equally abhorrent to me. If I did not fight against Celestia, I would have to fight for her. To shed the blood of my fellow pegasi in her name. What if all my clan did not or could not subscribe to my interpretation of matters? The division could split my very clan in twain. E’en if it did not, I named the Strikers as kin through my late father. The others of my clan shared similar divisions; parents, spouses, and sometimes even children who named themselves members of other clans. The thought of fighting pegasi was foul enough to drive me to ill, but to think that I would be forced to shed the blood of kith and kin... (5)
5: Given the long-standing Pegasopolan custom of marrying outside of one’s own clan, many Kickers had marriage ties to the other clans. While marriages to clan-less ponies were generally more common among the lower ranks of the Kickers, if only because the clan-less constituted a majority of Pegasopolis’ population, there were still many Kickers who suffered from divided loyalties. Though she never makes mention of it, Steel Striker was her second cousin once removed, and she shared more distant blood ties with Bright Charger and Swift Blade. It’s no surprise that many of the most popular tragic plays and novels in the decades following the war explored the theme of ponies torn between loyalties when their friends and families chose opposite sides of the war.
“What of the elections ‘mongst the earth ponies?” There was a note of desperation in my voice that sat ill with me, but I could hardly prevent it. The idea of war between ponies, and a war that for all my power as an ephor I was helpless to stop, was so upsetting to me that I sought any excuse to shift the topic of conversation. “How fares the contest ‘tween Celestia and Apple Tree?”
“Fare.” Steel let out a quiet little snort. “Your choice of words is more telling than you realize.” I glanced at the stallion, trying to puzzle out what he could mean by that comment. He was quick enough to offer clarification. “The crux of the matter, Shadow, is that it will not be a fair contest at all. Surely thou art aware of such.”
Once more, I found myself unable to deny his point. The larger a contest and the greater the rewards to be gained from it, the more likely ‘twas that the competitors would resort to underhoofed tactics. With the fate of all the earth ponies, and by extension quite possibly all of Equestria, as the stakes of the contest, how likely was it that the election would truly be a fair one? The Ephorate had already sought to influence the outcome through legitimate means, and I should be quite surprised if the unicorns were not doing so as well.
However, to date the pegasi had done nothing illegal to influence the election. I could only imagine that if the unicorns had, I would have heard them loudly denounced for it all ‘cross Pegasopolis. Though I could not imagine that Celestia herself would resort to duplicity, the existence of ponies like Sunbeam Sparkle in her government was ample proof that not all unicorns were as scrupulous as her. ‘Twas all too possible that some would act in her name without first seeking her knowledge or consent. Not to mention that the earth ponies likely had a stake in the election as well; e’en without outside interference, it might prove to be a less than righteous battle. With it included...
“Troubling,” Steel concluded for me. Apparently the recent spate of almost carrying on a conversation like a normal pony had exhausted his capacity for speech. ‘Twas perhaps telling of the depths of his concern that he would speak at such length.
“Aye,” I agreed.
“Plans?”
“I have none,” I confessed. I fell heavily ‘gainst the clouds, my ears pressed ‘gainst my skull. “I see no course that can end well in this matter. All I think to do is endure, and hope some opportunity to obtain a favorable outcome presents itself in the fullness of time.”
“Could work.” The skepticism in Steel’s voice was quite plain to anypony with functioning ears. He was silent for several seconds before he spoke once more. “Have a suggestion. Archmagus conclave. Get out of Cloudsdale for a bit. Clear your head.”
The suggestion was an unexpected one, but one I quickly saw the appeal of. While attending the unicorn conference to select the new Archmagus of Canterlot would hardly provide a proper respite from politics, ‘twould be far less troubling when I was not personally engaged in the maneuvering. Perhaps a day away from the troubles of Pegasopolis would do much to bring clarity to this difficult situation.
I briefly wondered if my absence would be remarked upon or viewed in a negative light, but there was nothing terribly unusual about an ephor attending an archmagus conclave. ‘Twas normal policy for both tribes to send a delegate to the conclave, much like the recently revived practice of sending delegates to all candidates in an earth pony election. All three tribes would be impacted by the selection of an Archmagus, so ‘twas only natural that all take the measure of those who stood for the position.
Perhaps moreso than any other element of Unicornia, the magi had a direct impact on Pegasopolan affairs. ‘Twas the magi who provided us with enchanted wargear, so the maintenance of good relations ‘tween Pegasopolis and the magi was hardly an unusual thing. In many ways, Sunbeam Sparkle’s reign as Archmagus of Canterlot had been an unusual one for the discord it caused ‘tween mage and pegasus. Relations ‘tween us were normally closer on account of regular cooperation in certain matters and the simple fact that, compared to the rest of Unicornia, the magi placed far more importance on ability than on bloodlines.
In times such as this, the selection of a new Archmagus of Canterlot would prove even more important than would normally be the case. The new Archmagus could well play a vital role in resolving the current tensions before they reached the point of open warfare. By the very same token, a poor choice could easily escalate matters beyond all hope of salvation.
“Are you so certain the others would support me as our delegate?” My eyes fell once more ‘pon my fellow ephors. “Though it pains me to say it, ‘tis no secret that my own opinion differs greatly from that of the Ephorate as a whole. Would the others not prefer one who stands in closer accord to their own beliefs?”
Steel offered an uncaring shrug as an answer. “Thou wouldst not misrepresent the interests of Pegasopolis in this matter?”
“Of course not!” Despite my best efforts to retain an even temper, I felt my choler rise at the very suggestion that I would do so. “Whatever our disagreements, I am sworn to act in the best interests of Pegasopolis. Our differences lie only in that we disagree ‘pon which Commander would be best suited to doing so.”
“No problems, then,” Steel concluded. “Probably best if ‘tis you. Thy reputation as Celestia’s lone supporter should make things easier. ‘Twould be awkward if any of us stepped into the heart of Unicornia so soon after.”
“A fair point,” I conceded. I felt somewhat less offense at Steel’s remark, now that he’d explained it in his own way. ‘Twas not that he doubted my loyalty so much as he wished it confirmed to make his argument. Whatever my differences with the other ephors, I would stand for the best interests of Pegasopolis at the conclave. “There is another advantage in dispatching me over another.” My mind turned to old memories of younger times. “I’ve some experience in their dealings. Father took me to one of the lesser conferences whilst he was grooming me to succeed him in the Ephorate.” (6)
6: In addition to the Archmagus of Canterlot, there were four other Archmagi at any given time: the Archmagi of the Northern, Southern, Eastern, and Western Marches. Each was charged with overlooking the geographical area suggested by their names, while the Archmagus of Canterlot saw to the capital and its immediate surroundings. Though the five Archmagi were technically equals, in practice the Archmagus of Canterlot held primacy due to the prestige of being based in the capital, overseeing the Royal Academy of Ars Magica (now more commonly known as Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns) and the advantage of being one of Celestia’s closest associates.
Steel grunted in acknowledgement. “Helped with warlock hunts, too.”
“Aye, that I have.” When faced with the prospect of battling a unicorn who’d fallen to darkness, many magi saw the value in having aid from pegasi trained to combat mages. I and the other ponies of my clan had aided the magi on occasion in such matters. “Then ‘twould seem I am the best pony for the job, both in matters both political and practical.”
“Aye,” Steel offered with his usual laconic wit.
I put the matter to my fellow ephors and, as he’d predicted, there were no objections. I only wished I could believe that was solely due to the fact that I was best suited to the task.
My arrival at Canterlot felt almost reassuring, in a way. To be sure, the city was no more welcoming than it had ever been to me—in fact, I was met with more than a few hostile stares, but there was something strangely reassuring about that. At least the unicorns were open with their fear and mistrust of a pegasus, when compared to the uncertainties I’d faced in Cloudsdale.
The conclave met at a large domed building near the Academy. From what I understood, the location was to allow the visiting magi to avail themselves of the school’s facilities, if they had need. Though I do not know if such is true ‘mongst the magi, were it a Pegasopolan event the presence of nearby training facilities would be a welcome thing indeed. I certainly intended to avail myself of the library, if an opportunity arose to do so. However, many of the magi sought finer accommodations than those offered by the school, not to mention that a great many magi normally dwelt in Canterlot. That concentration of magi was no doubt part of why the city merited its own archmagus.
After some consideration, I opted to have my daughter remain in Cloudsdale for the duration of my trip. ‘Twould be a good opportunity for her to repair the damage she’d initially done through her lack of hospitality towards Dusk Charger. Plus, I would prefer to have her eyes and ears focused ‘pon events in Cloudsdale in my absence. Now was not a time for me to blind myself to what happened in my own city.
The conclave was much like the last I’d attended, save that this one seemed larger and more active. That was unsurprising, given that the Archmagus of Canterlot held far more sway than the Archmagus of the Eastern March. The conclave was a veritable menagerie of magi, ranging from sophisticates decked in finery to one particularly odiferous magus who seemed as if he had spent several decades marinating in a bog before coming hence.
The utter lack of any order or uniformity to the magi made quite the contrast to what I was accustomed to. In Pegasopolis, every clan had its customary armor, and most kept some uniform standard of grooming and denoting rank. For the magi, the only common elements were a few badges or other marks that indicated membership in some one of the many internal factions, mystic orders, and secret societies ‘mongst the magi, and a few which served to boast of a magus’ accomplishments.
There was the constant buzz of conversation in the air as every magus shared their opinions with all who cared to hear or had the misfortune of being within earshot. Everywhere ponies milled about, seeking conversation and no doubt hoping to sway others toward their particular point of view on whatever topic was under discussion. Much of the talk naturally centered ‘pon who would be the next Archmagus, but there seemed to be no shortage of other ponies discussing their latest research projects or debating their latest theorems.
As one of the few non-magi at the conference, I confess that I was at something of a loss in many of the conversations. Though I’m better acquainted than most pegasi with the principles of magic, much of the talk was beyond me. There was little solace to be had in mingling with the other outsiders either; it seemed that Apple Tree had taken the liberty of sending a small delegation alongside those representing the current earth pony government, and naturally the two sets of earth ponies had almost immediately fallen to quarreling over the impending election. Unsurprising that things would be so contentious, given that the earth ponies had already begun casting and tallying the votes. There were many unicorns representing other forces within Unicornia, such as the nobles and the crafting guilds, but I felt little more kinship with them than I did the Magi.
Just as I had resigned myself to a few lonely days, I felt a faint static charge in the air that brought a smile to my lips and fond memories to mind. I turned about, and quickly spotted an old, friendly face. The stallion slowly making his way through the crowd towards me wore robes that seemed plain of cut and material, yet far finer than many of the gaudy jewel-bedecked creations I’d seen on other magi. His distinctive dark blue mane with a single streak of bright yellow likewise rendered him easily recognizable e’en ‘mongst this large crowd of unicorns. Kind golden eyes looked up from a russet face, and his lips quirked up in a faint smile as I met his gaze.
Soon enough, we stood before each other. I offered my hoof to him readily, and unlike what had passed with other parties, when he opted to kiss it I took no offense. “Shadow. It has been far too long.”
A gay mood overtook me, and I offered a slight jest. “Art thou so certain of that, Copper? Thou must recall that most of our meetings were occasioned by the rise of some new warlock. In light of that, perhaps it was best that we not meet too often.”
“A fair point,” he conceded. “Though I would argue that there were times when the pleasure of thy company was such that I would have gladly braved the dangers of a dark magus. Especially if he was as that one we encountered ... what was the preposterous name he used?”
“Skullblight the Shadowmaster, or something to that effect,” I supplied. Most magi who fall to darkness are, in my experience, singularly uncreative when it comes to choosing new names and titles. Though I suppose such renamings are necessary at times; few would have been intimidated by a would-be conqueror named Strawberry Sunshine.
“Yes, all the names do tend to blend together after a while.” Copper gave a cavalier toss of his head. “I think I should assure thee that if I should ever go mad and fall to darkness, I will at least retain enough good sense to not name myself Deathspike the Painbringer before thou dost come to cut me down.”
“That would be much appreciated.” I set wit aside for the moments, and offered him a tired smile. “But that matter aside, I will agree that it has been too long since out paths last crossed.”
Copper Spark and I had fought alongside each other several times over the years, though mostly in younger times. We’d first met on an assignment in the early years of our careers, when he was naught but a promising young magus and I had not yet proven myself worthy to succeed my father as head of the clan and ephor. In that time we’d faced our share of warlocks, and seen them dealt with commendably and without needlessly sacrificing foals to achieve our objectives.
Over the course of said ventures, we’d grown close, and eventually done as young mares and stallions are wont to do in such circumstances. Nothing lasting came of it, but ‘twas still a fond memory. I’d not seen him since the conclave to name a new Archmagus of the Eastern March. To my pleasure, he’d emerged victorious, though I’ll not deny that I felt a very slight pang of jealousy over the fact that his new wife’s support was key to securing that victory. Still, ‘tis the nature of those passing fancies of youth to give way to the mature relations of adulthood.
“So, what news of the conclave then?” I asked, in part to keep myself from dwelling too long on things long past.
“Oh, little beyond the usual.” He offered an amused shrug. “All manner of treachery and double-dealing, most of which I find dreadfully tedious. Though I suppose it is somewhat hypocritical of me to pretend I’m above the political games now, when I played them so keenly in my youth. Mayhap ‘tis only now, after I’ve reached the post of Archmagus, that I’ve grasped how pointless the whole process was to begin with. For all my supposed power, I find that I am under far more restrictions now than I ever was as just another ordinary mage.”
“That is the way of power.” My mind went back to one of the many old tales I had heard in my youth. “There is a story of a great Commander in ‘mongst the old Pegasi, who believed that his power gave him the right to do as he pleased. So one of his subjects challenged him to walk out ‘mongst his own kind, without armor or bodyguards. The Commander refused to do so, out of fear for his own life. Such was the extent of his freedom.”
Copper Spark gave a slow nod. “We’ve a similar tale regarding one of the old Unicornian Kings. I suspect everypony has some variation on it. The message is universal; the more power one gains, the less freedom one has with their actions.” He turned to me, and his gaze pierced my defenses. “I’ve heard that matters in Pegasopolis have been most troubling to thee of late. Do the chains of thy office weigh more heavily ‘pon thee now?”
“Aye, they do,” I confessed.
Copper put a hoof on my shoulder in silent comfort, and for a time the two of us stood there in silent companionship despite standing ‘mongst a sea of other ponies. After several long moments, he broke from me and offered a reassuring smile. “Now then, I must ask that thou join me and my lady wife for dinner this evening. We’ve much to discuss and no doubt many tales to exchange about all that we have done since last we met, and now is hardly the time or place to do so.”
“Aye, I would enjoy that.” I had not had many opportunities to enjoy fine dining in Canterlot since my arrival in the city. Given the current tensions ‘tween Pegasopolis and Unicornia, I was hesitant to invoke the Warrior’s Privilege o’ermuch. It could too easily lead to regrettable consequences; better to avoid the risk than to see an incident occur because some fool thought it would make a fine jest to serve me spoiled food.
“As would I, Shadow.” Copper bestowed a quick kiss ‘pon my cheek and offered me a final smile before making his departure. I confess I gazed after him for a time, a fond smile on my face. Though Rightly might hold the first claim on my heart now, I would always have a certain fondness for those from my past with whom I remained on good terms.
Once the day’s business at the conclave came to an end, I made haste to my temporary quarters at the Royal Academy so that I might prepare myself for the evening’s activities. I am by no means a vain mare who would spend hours primping before a mirror, but I am not unmindful of my appearance. In circumstances such as this, I intended to at least see to it that my armor, mane, tail, and coat were all in good order.
I was midway through such preparations when my room’s fireplace flared so brightly ‘twas as if somepony had deposited an entire jug of lamp oil within the flames. A moment later the former Archmagus of Canterlot, Sunbeam Sparkle, stepped out of my fireplace.
My first line of thought as to why she would enter my private quarters unannounced by means of magic was less than charitable, particularly in light of my recent conversation with Copper Spark. So before she could act ‘gainst me old instincts took over, and my forehoof lashed out and found her horn.
Sunbeam Sparkle fell to the floor with a startled cry, her hooves instinctively flying to her battered horn. I was quick to seize ‘pon the opening provided, standing over her and pressing a single hoof ‘gainst her throat. From there, ‘twas a simple matter to apply pressure to the proper artery to cut off the blood flow to her brain. She briefly struggled to remove me, but with her magic robbed by my blow to the horn, she could only use physical means to remove me. The angle favored me, and she had neither superior strength nor sufficient skill in a grapple to outmatch me. She was beaten.
“Mother!” Young Midnight Sparkle’s frightened cry caught me by surprise as the young filly galloped up to me. In the excitement of Sunbeam’s entrance, I must have o’erlooked her small daughter’s presence. The filly trotted up and met my eyes. “You have been depriving Mother’s brain of oxygenated blood for six seconds. If you continue doing so for three more seconds she will lose consciousness. Further symptoms would include short term memory loss, decreased muscle control, brain damage, and ultimately death.” She paused for a long moment, her eyes slowly blinking, then added. “Please desist before that point.”
Despite the presence of her daughter, I was almost tempted to see the matter to its conclusion. The former archmagus had already lapsed into unconsciousness, and ‘twould not be long before she passed from the world. E’en now, after all that has passed since that night, there are times when I regret my ultimate decision.
However, the one thing that was clear by young Midnight’s presence was that Sunbeam Sparkle had not come to my quarters with hostile intent. There was no conceivable reason why she would bring her daughter along for an assassination mission. Beyond that, my defeat of her had perhaps come too easily. A fully prepared magus intent on doing murder should not have been caught so badly unawares by my strike—indeed, she should have had some defense in place to prevent such an attack. There was only one conclusion to draw from the facts in evidence: Sunbeam Sparkle had come with peaceful intent, and I’d attacked her without just cause.
I removed my hoof from her neck and stood aside for the time it took her to regain her senses. Sunbeam slowly and shakily returned to her hooves, retreating to the opposite side of the room from me and watching with understandable wariness. Midnight looked to her own mother, blinking owlishly. “I did not see the light leave thy eyes, Mother. But then, thou didst not die, but merely have a near-death experience. Perhaps that is insufficient data.”
At length the deposed Archmagus fully recovered herself, though I noted that one forehoof remained ‘pon her neck, rubbing it gingerly. When she spoke, there was a somewhat understandable note of anger in her voice. “Is that how you greet all visitors, Ephor?”
“Neigh,” I answered her coolly. “That is how I greet magi who barge into my quarters unannounced and uninvited.”
One of her ears flicked in aggravation, but after glowering for a few moments she reluctantly conceded the point with a disgusted wave of her hoof. “In the future, I shall remember to knock before entering. However, my business is pressing, and of the utmost importance.” She paused for several seconds, likely to gather herself before continuing. “There is a rather severe problem with the upcoming earth pony elections. A matter of fraud.”
“I take it thy schemes were uncovered then?” I grumbled.
“Of course not! I take offense at the very suggestion!” I found her denial laughable, and would have said as much had she not continued. “My own efforts at manipulating the election have been far more competently executed than the designs of these clod-hoofed amateurs, though regrettably modest due to my diminished resources.” She let out an annoyed snort. “But therein lies the problem, Ephor: these manipulations are far too obvious to go undetected. The idiots, on both sides I’ll note, are simply stuffing ballot boxes without even trying to cover their tracks. The early voting returns from the distant earth pony centers have already made the problem plain.” (7)
7: Given the technological limitations of the era, many of the distant or isolated earth pony communities would cast early votes weeks in advance of the election proper so that the results would be available in Manehatten by election night.
Sunbeam walked to a nearby window and gestured out at the rest of the city. “There are less than a thousand earth ponies within the city of Canterlot, mostly delegates to the various guilds, magi, and Her Majesty. And yet, from the city of Canterlot there have been more than two thousand votes cast for Celestia alone, notwithstanding those that went to her opponent.”
“That does not bode well.” Though I dared to hope that such blatant misconduct would be limited to the heart of Unicornia, the dread feeling in my heart told me that such would not be the case. E’en if the rest of the election were conducted legitimately, a single blatant instance of fraud would be enough to cast the legitimacy of the outcome into doubt.
“Neigh, it does not.” Sunbeam let out an aggravated growl. “The whole of Equestria is a tinderbox, and now some damned fools have thrown a set of lighted brands into the middle of it. Surely you understand now that this won’t be seen as some subordinates acting without her approval, but rather as another sign of Her Majesty’s budding tyranny. I fear what the earth ponies might do, and that the pegasi might support that foolishness. You must return to Pegasopolis at once and hope that we can contain the disaster before all Equestria is engulfed.”
Midnight regarded the two of us until there was a loud crackle from the fireplace, which drew her attention. As she gazed into the flames, she slowly spoke. “I am reminded of one the many nursery rhymes I’ve heard chanted by the other foals. In a ring of roses, all bearing their own thorns, when one pony sneezes, they all fall down.”
Though I made all haste back to Cloudsdale, rumor flew on faster wings than e’en the speediest of pegasi. Indeed, the crime had already been suspected before I’d even left for Canterlot—all I could do now was bring the confirmation of it.
For all the speed with which I returned home, I could not help but wonder what I might do ‘pon my arrival there. I could inform my fellow ephors that Celestia had no part in the fraud, but I did not think it likely that such would be believed. At best, I would persuade them that Sunbeam Sparkle or some other agent of the crown had acted with her blessing, but not her explicit approval. ‘Twas an old maneuver of politics to place one’s subordinates for action but never give the order. It allowed for one to uphold the appearance of honor while reaping the benefits of dishonorable behavior.
But if I could not persuade my fellow ephors of Celestia’s innocence, then what could I hope to accomplish? No true pegasus would allow a tyrant and usurper to come to power amongst the earth ponies, nor did I think it likely that Apple Tree and his confederates would accept a plainly fraudulent election. I feared that Steel’s dire prophecy from our last conversation might well come true—that events might reach a point where I was utterly powerless to prevent the oncoming storm.
Though I prayed he was wrong, I suppose it made little difference to my ultimate course. I would not simply lie down and passively allow matters to escalate further simply because ‘twas possible that e’en my best efforts might not suffice. I would fight for Celestia’s cause and the good of Pegasopolis, and if I would ultimately know defeat, at least I would fall knowing that I’d done all that I could.
I was unsurprised to learn that the Ephorate was already in session, and the members of the Gerousia were more slowly being roused from their clanholds and homes. I made all haste to Swift Blade’s clanhold, as ‘twas he who hosted this gathering.
Compared to the holds of the other great clans, the Blades’ compound was small and modest. They were not one of the older or more prestigious clans of Pegasopolis, but Swift himself had led them to some prominence by virtue of his rise to the Ephorate. Whether his clan would continue to hold any status once he passed from leadership remained an open question, though. Like many of the lesser clans of Pegasopolis, they had little in the way of legacy, nor any great talents or resources. Though great talents can emerge from any clan or even the ranks of the clanless, ‘twas rare for those who lacked the support of a great clan to build anything which could last beyond their own lifetime.
Still, there was something refreshing about the genuine modesty of the Blade clanhold. The Strikers had an e’en more modest dwelling, but that was a matter of choice. Indeed, there were times when I found the Striker clanhold almost ostentatious in its sheer humility. Where the Strikers were austere as a matter of pride, the Blades seemed to embrace it more naturaly, and as a matter of course. Though it seems strange to say, the Blades were far more modest in their modesty.
Whilst the meeting had begun prior to my return and continued for nearly an hour prior to my arrival, unlike the previous instances I would not condemn my fellow ephors for meeting in my absence. Matters were grave, and they could not know when I would return or even that I intended to do so. ‘Twas neither uncommon nor untoward for the Ephorate to meet with less than its full numbers when the business of government called some of its members elsewhere. Whether it be diplomatic conferences, reiver raids, or a simple review of the border forts, there were many things which called for an ephor’s attention. Indeed, part of why there were five ephors was precisely because it allowed us to retain a functioning government even in the absence of some of our number.
As I neared the meeting chamber, I could easily hear Swift’s voice. For once, ‘twould seem he had abandoned his usual desire to linger in the background of our meetings in favor of taking a leading role. No doubt the fact that we met in his home emboldened him. “I shall speak plainly then, sir, for ‘twould seem that this is the time for it. By this action, Celestia has shown her true colors: she’ll not accept her legal removal by the earth ponies. She has resulted to the lowest forms of skullduggery to maintain her grip on that office; infamous acts deserving the utmost condemnation.”
Though Swift was a skilled logistician, he was not gifted in rhetoric. Despite the clumsiness of his speech, his audience seemed to accept it well enough, judging by the low rumble of approval his words drew.
I stepped into the chamber, and quickly took stock of the situation. Swift Blade currently flew about near the top of the room’s domed ceiling, occupying a position that demanded the attention of all as he spoke. Below him, my fellow ephors and several members of the Gerousia listened. I was unsurprised by the numerous absences in the Gerousia’s ranks: ‘twas often difficult for many of the oldest geronts to attend a meeting on short notice. Many, like my father or the ancient Dawnburst Charger, suffered the infirmities of age and a lifetime of warfare. The soldier’s life is not kind to the equine body.
“If Celestia would take the liberties of the earth ponies,” Swift Blade continued, “then how secure are our freedoms? This cannot be allowed to stand. Pegasopolis must do all within its power to ensure that the true and legitimate Chancellor of Earth Ponies, Apple Tree, is given his rightful position. E’en if it requires the utmost measures to do so.”
I could not hold my silence in face of such words. “What you counsel is madness, Swift.” As he was not mincing words, I saw no reason not to do the same. “Would you plunge all Equestria into civil war simply because of the misbehavior of a few miscreants? What proof have you that Celestia endorsed this course of action? Do you know the contents of her mind so well that you can share her most secret thoughts with us now? If so, that is a fine talent indeed.”
Swift Blade stared at me for a long moment, then reluctantly returned to the floor. “Shadow. I am glad to see you as a guest in my home. ‘Tis an unexpected pleasure, when we had thought you would be in Canterlot for some time hence.”
“The Ephorate has need of all its numbers in these times.” I frowned at him as several thoughts sprang to mind. ‘Tis no secret that Swift Blade has a keen ear for all that passes within Equestria’s borders. Such is a valuable asset in a logistician. ‘Twas also no secret that he and Steel Striker had been close friends for some time. Might he have known of, or at least suspected, that news of scandal would reach Pegasopolis in my absence, and told Steel to make the suggestion? ‘Twas most likely a thought born of paranoia, yet I could not force it from my mind.
“Regardless,” I continued, “there seems little point to my attending a diplomatic function whilst in the halls of Cloudsdale my fellow ephors speak of war with Unicornia. A course which, as I’ve said, is of the utmost foolishness.”
“And yet,” Rightly’s calm voice cut across the floor, “Swift’s point is not entirely lacking in merit. Thou canst not deny that this news bears troubling implications for all Pegasopolis, Shadow.”
“I can, and do,” I answered him. “Does anypony here truly think that Celestia would authorize such a course of action?” I found myself unpleasantly reminded of my recent conversation with the former Archmagus of Canterlot. “I think if she intended a fraud, she would at least have the sense to go about perpetrating it competently. This crime, and none can deny that it is one, bears all the marks of an act done with neither her knowledge nor her consent. Are we to condemn her for the acts done by every random fool claiming to act in her name now? We also must not forget that her opponents have been just as dishonest in this matter.”
One of the geronts, a clanless mare by the name of Lightning Clash, spoke to me. “You are freshly arrived from Canterlot, neigh? What news have you of Celestia’s intentions in this matter?”
I found myself in the midst of a dilemma. In truth, I knew nothing concrete of my former Commander’s intentions. I’d not had an opportunity to consult with her on the matter before my rather hasty departure from Canterlot. However, to confess that much would destroy what little credit my position held. Thus, I chose to make certain reasonable inferences and simply allow the others to draw their own conclusions as to how I came to possess that knowledge. “Celestia will not allow an illegitimate election result to stand. A stolen victory is no victory at all. I think it likely by now she has already contacted Apple Tree in the hopes of arranging some manner of compromise to satisfy all parties.” (1)
1: As it turns out, Shadow’s inference was not far off the mark at all. If Shadow had made an attempt to contact Celestia before leaving Canterlot, she would have learned Celestia was already rushing to Manehatten for damage control and emergency negotiations with Apple Tree.
“Best wait, then,” Steel offered with his usual laconic wit.
“Aye.” Bright Charger’s agreement came as a surprise, but a most welcome one. “While ‘tis only prudent to stand at the ready in such times, I see no reason to take further action whilst the negotiations ‘tween the two parties are ongoing.”
“Then we are in agreement,” Rightly concluded, much to my relief. “Whilst these developments are deeply troubling, it is premature to talk of war when negotiations to find a peaceful solution are ongoing. I’ll not seek war needlessly, especially not one where ponies shed each others’ blood.”
One of Swift’s ears flicked—no doubt he did not care for being so effectively outmaneuvered by a mare thought to be out of power and out of favor, and within his own clanhold no less. After a few moments in which he no doubt sought to find some way to o’ercome my argument, he conceded the matter with a wave of his hoof. “I yield to the consensus of my peers, and offer my own vote so that we might stand as one, unanimous in our conclusions. ‘Tis not fitting for one of our number to hold themselves separate from the rest.” I let the barbed comment pass, if only because it did not merit any response. After allowing a moment for his words to strike home, Swift continued. “However, in light of the ongoing crisis, I do think it prudent that we look to our own readiness. I propose that we muster the clans and make ready to mobilize.”
“Sensible,” Steel grunted. “Hope for best, but stand ready for worst.”
Bright and Rightly were quick to signal their own approval of the suggestion, so that only my own opinion was unaccounted for. I will confess, with the memory of Swift’s words so fresh in my mind, ‘twas tempting to vote alongside my fellow ephors in the matter. The position was not an unreasonable one, and my vote would do much to bridge the gap that had developed ‘tween us all since Celestia’s removal. To show, much as Bright’s own gesture had, that we were all ephors of Pegasopolis. That all stood united in our service to the pegasi whatever our differences of opinion.
However, I could not take that step. “I fear that I must offer a dissenting vote in the matter. If the unicorns fear war with us, mobilizing our military will only confirm those fears in their minds. The very act of preparing to weather this crisis would only serve to make it all the more certain that it shall come to pass.”
Rightly turned to me, his voice carrying a sort of weary resignation I was not accustomed to hearing from him. “Though ‘tis possible thou art correct, what other course have we? We cannot leave our defenses weak and open in the hopes that doing so will calm unicorn fears. If thou canst see another course of action that addresses the needs of Pegasopolis, by all means speak of it.”
I struggled to find a satisfactory answer, but there was none. What could I do, ask my fellow ephors to trust the goodwill of Celestia and Unicornia? ‘Twould be a waste of my breath. I could suggest that we take care in our mobilizations to avoid the appearance of aggression, but such words would also accomplish little. There is no artifice known to ponykind which can make the mustering of armies not seem an aggressive act.
If anything, attempting to muster in secrecy would only make matters appear e’en more threatening. If we mustered openly, the cooler heads ‘mongst the unicorns could at least argue that we did so purely for our own defense in the midst of a tense situation. To muster in secrecy would have the odor of subterfuge about it, as if we planned a sudden strike to catch our enemies unawares.
“I regret that I can offer no other course of action at this time,” I confessed. “I merely state that we should be aware of the consequences of mustering, and how such an act is likely to be viewed in both Unicornia and the rest of Equestria.”
“Then the matter is resolved,” Rightly concluded. “We stand at four votes in favor and one dissenting.”
After that difficult moment, the Ephorate and Gerousia fell to discussing the minutiae of mobilizing the clans. ‘Twas a major undertaking, and I found it pleasant to lose myself in the details of such planning rather than focus on the political unpleasantness that had come to dominate my life of late. In a strange way, despite my disapproval of the move in general, I almost looked forward to calling up and preparing my clan and all its auxiliaries. (2)
2: The major Pegasopolan clans controlled military forces that exceeded their actual family trees, mostly by fielding the auxiliaries Shadow mentioned. These were clanless warriors who swore loyalty and service to one of the clans in exchange for enjoying the clan’s protection and support. Often, these sorts of relationships could become generational in nature, almost like the feudal ties of the unicorns. Unlike the patron/c l ient dynamic dynamic of the unicorns, talented pegasus auxiliaries were frequently incorporated into the clan proper through either marriage or adoption. Gale would be an obvious and highly relevant example.
As the arrangements continued, I could not help but note that my father remained absent. ‘Twas most vexing, as having another Kicker present at the meeting would have made my own task easier. Though I do my best to keep abreast of all matters within my clan, I do have many other duties and only a limited number of hours in every day. E’en if I held perfect knowledge of all my clan’s doings, my father’s perspective and experience would still be a valuable resource. Still, I could manage matters well enough on my own, if I must.
The subject of discussion gradually turned to making adjustments to the Allotment. ‘Twas a subject I found somewhat uncomfortable, but at least endurable so long as I did not think o’erlong on why we were altering the disposition of our forces. Rightly was in the midst of proposing an expansion to our mobile skirmishers—a suggestion I found uncomfortable, given that my clan had many trained in such techniques. Already I had begun to fear that offering Bright’s clan training in the art of killing magi might bear poisoned fruit. Talk of war had gone from alarmist rumormongering to a thing openly discussed by the Ephorate itself with alarming haste.
What could I do, if matters came to that point? The thought of raising my clan’s forces to seek war with Celestia was distasteful in the extreme, but the alternative was equally unconscionable. To turn ‘gainst Pegasopolis itself, and order my clan to shed pegasus blood, to kill friend, comrade, and lover in Celestia’s name. My eyes lingered long on Rightly with that last thought. Could I willingly face him in battle, knowing that I might be the cause of his death?
And yet, Celestia was my Commander. The ruling of the Ephorate be damned, she held the post still in my heart and mind. More than that, I’d seen her in a way the others had not. Though she be flawed, she sought the best in all of ponykind. E’en with those who seemed to have no redeeming features, such as her former vizier, she struggled to bring out the good in them. Perhaps ‘twas a form of madness, but after I’d gazed ‘pon her and come to see all that she intended, I knew I could not bring myself to contend ‘gainst her. That the words of my fellows, speaking of tyranny and repression, were mistaken.
Sadly, none of that was a thing I could easily put to words for them. If I were to tell my fellow ephors that I’d seen Celestia’s heart, felt the purity of her soul, then I’d be fortunate if they simply chose to disregard me as a besotted filly. There are some experiences which cannot be properly conveyed to others.
A commotion outside the meeting chambers drew my mind from such melancholy thoughts. Though I could not discern the nature or cause of it, the cries of distress and fury were plain enough to all with ears. At first I merely thought it might be some internal matter of Swift’s clan—family disputes in a clanhold were far from uncommon—but that thought was quickly cast aside. In light of the seriousness of this meeting, I could scarcely imagine that the Blades would allow one of the usual family quarrels to occur within earshot of all the most powerful ponies in Pegasopolis.
Soon enough, our curiosity as to the cause of the disturbance overcame any offended sense of propriety, and both I and my fellow ephors left the meeting hall to seek out the source of the commotion. Soon enough, we came upon a cluster of pegasi, some in the colors of the Blades and others in the robes of the Gerousia. Most importantly, my father seemed to be in the midst of it, and not all of the red ‘pon him came from the armor of our clan.
“Father!” Two of Swift’s clan were roughly shoved aside in my haste to make way to my father’s side. Father had suffered a blow to his scalp that yet trickled a small stream of his lifesblood despite the attentions of a chirurgeon, and there were several shallower wounds to his forelegs. Though I am not adept in the medical arts, I knew the difference ‘tween battle wounds and those that stem from a common accident. The fresh blood on father’s wing blades at least offered some solace that he'd shown that e'en a blind Kicker was yet a force to contend with.
“Who dares?!” I demanded. “Who would dare lay hooves upon a member of the Gerousia?!” (3)
3: By long-standing Pegasopolan custom, the geronts were sacrosanct. In a society that believed in nonlethal dueling as the most common form of conflict resolution, being completely untouchable is a major privilege. Attacking a geront was not only a crime, it was all but sacrilege.
“A fool,” my father answered tersely as he attempted to wave off the chirurgeon tending his injury. “He would not cease prattling on about how our clan were traitors to all Pegasopolis, e’en after battle was joined. Had he thought to cease the flapping of his jaws, I might not have been able to end him so easily.” Father gave a derisive snort. “No doubt the fool felt a need to justify his crimes e’en as he committed them. Unwise.”
So that was the way of it: my father had been attacked over damnable politics. Were e’en our most sacred traditions to be cast aside in the name of political expediency? In a fury, I whirled ‘pon Rightly. “Find the corpse of the one who dared strike my father. I would have a full investigation of this matter, so that all the accomplices of my father’s attacker might be brought to the same justice as the one who thought to meet my father in battle.”
“I have already sent my clanponies to attend to the matter,” Swift Blade quickly reassured me. “But if I may, Ephor, I think you are quick to see a conspiracy where none may exist. From the honored Geront’s description of the event, it sounds far more likely that the attack was perpetrated by a single fool acting alone.”
“I think that likely.” Father’s agreement with Swift Blade’s suggestion did not sit well with me. “‘Twould be a poor conspiracy indeed if they could not even manage to end the life of a single old, blind warrior.” As the chirurgeon finished binding my father’s head wound, he rose to his hooves and slowly made his way in my general direction. I stepped forward and took one of his hooves in my own, guiding him to my side. Once there he placed a hoof ‘pon my shoulder both as a show of support and so that he could be certain of my location. “Do not let thy righteous anger at this attack blind thee to the fact that thou art ‘mongst friends here.”
“Am I?” The bitter words sprang from my lips before I could e’en think to restrain them. “My own father’s blood is shed in the streets because I dare hold a differing opinion from my fellow ephors.” I turned to them all, anger lacing my words. “Which of you spoke the words that led to my father’s pain? The business of the Ephorate, and my own opinions, would not be such common knowledge unless one of you made it so. My father’s blood is on your hooves.”
I rounded on them in a fury, at last giving voice to all my grievances. “I endured marginalization, being cast out of the Ephorates meetings because you would not hear my words or doubted my loyalty to Pegasopolis. I stood silent whilst thine own kin whispered vile insults behind my back. I attended every meeting of the Ephorate which you deigned to allow me to participate in, and did all that I could to defend the best interests of Pegasopolis e’en though I knew my voice would go unheard. But this? To shed the blood of my kin—of my father — over a matter of politics?! It is heinous, and I will not tolerate it!”
Rightly drew back at my words, but a moment mustered himself and carefully approached, angrily waving away the growing crowd of onlookers as made his way to my side. “Shadow, the business of the Ephorate is hardly a state secret. E’en thou hast spoken openly of the discord ‘tween us all. I assure thee, none of us would have knowingly spoken words that led to this heinous crime.”
Would that I could find his words as reassuring as he intended them to be. More and more, I felt as though I could not trust my comrades. The suspicion that Swift and Steel had conspired to remove me from Cloudsdale at a critical moment yet lingered in my mind. If the member of the Ephorate who was my closest kin ‘mongst their number might betray me, what of the others?
My beloved closed his eyes in thought for several long moments, then spoke decisively. “We must act to ensure that this is not repeated. To make it plain to all that this act was the foulest crime imaginable, and in no way endorsed or allowed by any member of the Ephorate. And also to inform all those foolish enough to think so that thou and thy clan are now and shall always be loyal to Pegasopolis first and foremost. That will put an end to all this madness.”
I could scarce believe my own ears. That he would not only think my clan’s loyalty so questionable that I must confirm it, but then go on to demand that I make a public declaration in order to prevent further attacks. At first I told myself that he could not have meant to say the words as I’d heard them. That my fear and suspicion had twisted his meaning. And yet ... I could not entirely bring myself to believe it. “So my family is to be subjected to further attacks unless I make a public statement committing myself to war with Celestia?”
Rightly drew back from me, blinking as though I’d struck him across the face. ‘Twould be fair to admit that the idea of doing so had a certain appeal. “That is not what I said, Shadow! It bears not e’en the faintest resemblance to my actual words!”
“Openly said, neigh,” I countered. “The implication was clear enough, however.”
“Implication?” Rightly stared at me as if I’d begun speaking in Zebrican. “What implication? I am simply trying to prevent any more needless violence.”
“And the only way I can do so is to make it known that in the event of war, I’ll take thy side in the matter,” I finished for him. “As I said, thy meaning is plain.” I turned my back on them, and offered a supporting hoof to my father. “Come, Father. Let us away from this place. ‘Twould seem that the Pegasopolis I once knew and loved is now a thing of mists and aether.”
Father frowned at my words. “Do not be so quick to cast aside thy homeland, Shadow.” He sighed and shook his head. “The acts of a single fool do not damn us all, nor do a few ill-chosen words from thy Commander.”
“Acting Commander,” I corrected. A pang of guilt passed through me as I saw Rightly’s reaction to my words; ‘twas clear from his pained grimace that they had cut him to the quick. That did not change the truth of them, though. He was not my commander, and now I do not think I would ever be able to view him as such. “And I wonder how well I can even know him, if he would extract a price from me in exchange for the safety of my own clan.”
Rightly let out a frustrated growl and gripped me by the shoulders. “Damnation, Shadow! I have already said that was not my intention!”
I gave him no further answer, for there was nothing more to be said. Whether he intended the ultimatum or had merely chosen his words poorly, the matter was ended. Instead I turned to my father. “Shall we, then?”
Father considered for a moment, then slowly shook his head. “Neigh. E’en if ‘tis thy wish to depart at once, I’ve business yet to conduct here.”
Though his response vexed me at some level, I could not begrudge him that choice. Indeed, on some level I quite approved of his decision to carry on despite his wounds, to show that he would not be intimidated. “Very well then, Father. Shall I arrange an honor guard to accompany thee once thou art prepared to return?”
“There is no need for such,” Rightly cut in, much to my annoyance. “It would be my pleasure to see to it that thy father is returned safely to thy clanhold once our business is done.”
My voice turned cool as I answered him. “I would prefer that my own clan see to his safety.”
Once more Rightly withdrew, wounded by my words. “So be it, then.”
As my father fell to conversing with the other ephors, I turned my back on them and began to make my way back to my clanhold.
I issued two orders upon my return to my clan’s fortress: the first was to dispatch the honor guard to the Blade clanhold for my father. The second was for my daughter to meet with me at once. We had much to discuss.
Gale responded to my call before Rock’s squad had even left the compound. My daughter seemed much as I’d left her, though I was surprised at how chastened she seemed compared to her usual confidence. ‘Twould seem my condemnation over the handling of Dusk yet lingered in her mind. Bothersome; we had more important affairs now. I could only pray that Dusk Charger’s presence did not further complicate an already difficult situation.
Gale began to speak, no doubt to ask what service I required of her, but I quickly waved her silent. “It will wait until we speak in privacy. This is not a matter for all ears.”
Judging by the way her ears perked at the words, my daughter’s curiosity was clearly piqued. However, she wisely said nothing more as we made our way to my quarters. E’en once we were there, I was uncertain whether our conversation had sufficient privacy. What I intended to speak of was dangerous indeed. “Take measures to ensure we are undisturbed.”
Gale nodded, and departed the room for a time. I heard a few faintly muffled commands through the walls as my daughter set about fulfilling my order, and she returned once that was tended to. “There are sentries covering all possible approaches to thy quarters, Mother. Nopony will hear of what we say, or approach without permission.”
I offered a single sharp nod by way of answer. “Well done, then. If what we are about to discuss were to become common knowledge, it could spell disaster for our clan.”
Gale gave a single surprised blink, then her eyes narrowed in thought. “Are we to break ranks with Pegasopolis then?”
I could scarce contain a shudder ‘pon hearing the words spoken. Though the thought had lingered in my mind for some time, there seemed a very great difference between having it linger in the darkest corners of my mind and daring to speak it aloud. The matter had gone from a distant and terrible nightmare to a reality I must presently face. However, one aspect of my daughter’s response troubled me. “How is it that thou didst guess my intentions so easily?”
Gale let out a patient sigh, as if annoyed by the very question. “Mother, ‘tis no secret that thou didst deeply disapprove of the decision to remove Celestia from power. Now all Cloudsdale is abuzz with rumors that the Ephorate intends war with her, and I am called into thy chambers for a meeting of utmost secrecy. A pony would have to be blind and foolish not to suspect our intentions.” She paused, and shot me a warning look. “I took all care to make our sentries seem unobtrusive—if it is known we are holding private and highly secure conferences, our enemies will guess our intentions without the need to hear a single word we’ve spoken.”
Though I did not care for the thought that all so many had already assumed I would turn ‘gainst my own homeland when the time came, I could not deny the truth of it. ‘Twould hardly be fair to condemn my fellow pegasi for suspecting me of things I fully intended to do. Best that I put aside such concerns for the moment and focus ‘pon the matter at hoof. “Thy surmise is correct,” I confessed. “The Pegasopolis I know and love, the one I’d thought to devote my life to serving ... I fear it no longer exists. All that remains is a realm that uses honor to excuse crimes and kind words to blind us to the hidden daggers being sharpened ere they are plunged into our backs.”
Gale wore a thoughtful frown as she regarded me. “Such harsh words are unlike thee, Mother. Thou dost speak more harshly of the Ephorate than thou hast of far fouler enemies. What passed to make thee so wroth with them?”
I took a moment to restrain my choler as best I could. Fury would avail me nothing in this matter. When I had regained some semblance of calm, I answered her. “Father has been attacked in the streets of Cloudsdale, on account of these ... political matters.” Gale gave a horrified gasp at the news, and I allowed her a moment to recover herself before I continued. “He was wounded, but saw to his assailant easily enough. However, in the aftermath of the attack, ‘twas made plain to me by my fellow ephors and the acting commander that if I wished to prevent such incidents, I should swear myself to their cause.”
My daughter’s eyes narrowed, and she regarded me with a skeptical grimace. “That sounds most unlike them. They are ponies of honor, are they not?”
“Mayhap ‘twas not the full intention behind their words,” I conceded. “Nonetheless, ‘twas what was said, and likely meant in at least some manner. I do not think Rightly, Steel, or Bright would stoop so low as to do violence to my family in an effort to force my loyalty.” I scowled, and struck a lump of cloud with a hoof. “I also did not think that they would even consider using such an event to bring pressure ‘pon me to join their cause. E’en in the kindest interpretation, Rightly thought to use my father’s wounds to bind me closer to Pegasopolis and the Ephorate. It was unworthy of him.”
“If that was the way of it, then ‘twould seem his honor is not so precious to him as his reputation would suggest,” Gale commented sourly.
“Indeed.” I scowled at a nearby wall. “I am ... weary of this. The constant feeling that I can trust no one. That every word must be questioned and searched for hidden intentions. Seeing a hidden knife behind words that might simply have been meant to convey support and comfort. I long for the days when I saw my fellow ephors as comrades in arms, not enemies or conspirators. I am openly insulted, the other ephors seem to conspire to marginalize my voice and deny me the opportunity to be heard, and now my own father is attacked in the streets, in violation of our most sacred laws and traditions. I cannot endure this any longer.”
Gale stepped forward and placed a comforting hoof on my shoulder. “So, what wouldst thou have me do? How might I lessen this burden?”
I took a moment to order my thoughts before answering her. “We must make ready to depart for Canterlot as quickly as possible. For all that I hope there might be a peaceful resolution to this matter, if it continues to escalate matters might quickly reach a point where the clans might use force to prevent our departure. The Ephorate has ordered a mobilization of the clans—if fortune favors us, our preparations for departing Pegasopolis will not seem amiss.”
Gale slowly nodded as she wove her own plans. “Much of the preparation for relocating the clan will seem like that for a military campaign. Not all of it, though. E’en if I take the utmost care to cover our tracks, we will have to tell the clan at large eventually. That will make secrecy impossible, especially since not all will approve of this decision.”
I had feared as much. ‘Tis a rare leader indeed who can unify all under a single banner without the slightest murmuring of dissent. Normally such was simply one of the burdens any clan leader must bear, but when the matter at hoof is which side to take in an impending conflict such disagreement could quickly escalate. “Will I sunder my own clan with this choice? Or worse—be the cause of the bloodshed ‘tween kin?”
She could offer no answer beyond a helpless shrug. “Such things are difficult to determine this far in advance. Much will depend ‘pon the nature of any opposition which arises to thy decision. So long as it is but a few discontent voices in the wind, I imagine all will remain loyal to their materfamilias. However, if a strong enough challenge to thy leadership is made...”
“Aye, that is often the way of it.” I found myself briefly reminded of the earth pony elections, and Apple Tree. As the former archmagus had said, many ponies will accept a leader’s dubious choices so long as they think themselves alone in that opinion. However, if given a leader to rally about, many who might normally bury their discontent and simply go about their duties might instead be persuaded to raise their voices in protest. Such things could quickly build momentum, in the right circumstances—there was e’en a chance I could be stripped of clan leadership. (4)
4: Leadership in Pegasopolan clans tends to be a somewhat complicated affair. In general, the clans tended to be willing enough to let leadership pass within a sort of informal royal family within the clan—such as from Shadow’s father to her and (eventually) to Gale. However, unlike with unicorn nobility, clan leaders could be removed and replaced with somepony completely different if the clan as a whole felt the current leader wasn’t doing a good enough job, or that the current informal line of succession would lead to an inadequate heir. Thus, Shadow’s fear that she might be challenged for leadership if enough ponies disagreed with her decision.
Father would likely not approve of my choice. His own actions ‘mongst the ephors and geronts earlier this day showed as much. For all that he’d suffered, he remained in his heart a loyal servant of Pegasopolis. Our departure would bring him pain, and undeserved pain at that. However, he had entrusted me with the leadership of our clan--and not lightly so. He and his late husband had groomed me from youth with the intention that I would succeed him. Father has, in his own subtle way, expressed his pride in my tenure as ephor. I confess some hubris in assuming that my father Clay would be in accord, were he still with us. Though he might disagree with my choice, he would follow my lead.
Gale stepped forward, and paced a hoof ‘pon my shoulder. “I can assure thee, Mother, that as of this time I am unaware of any potential threat to thy position from within the clan. None have yet tried to rally opinions ‘gainst thee, and if that should change I shall be ‘mongst the first to learn of it.”
“I suppose that is some small consolation,” I murmured with a touch of bitterness. “At least I shall be forewarned if the whole of my clan thinks me unworthy of leading them.”
“I do not think it will come to that,” my daughter offered by way of reassurance. “For every one who might doubt thy wisdom, there will be ten who are prepared to follow thee to whatever end. Thou art our materfamilias, and we are bound by duty and honor to abide by thine instructions.”
“I pray that all our family view the matter as thou dost, Gale.” ‘Twas no doubt a vain hope—ne’er have I known of a family whose members could come to full agreement—but I could at least hope that those who doubted me would choose not to act on those doubts for long enough to see the wisdom of my course.
The two of us fell to troubled silence for some time after that, until at last my daughter spoke once more. “If I might offer a suggestion, Mother, I think ‘twould be best to confine news of our plans to as few ponies as possible. ‘Twill lessen the time available to organize any resistance to thy leadership ere the clan’s departure, and will increase our chances of making a successful departure before the other clans can act to stop us.” Gale gave a reluctant sigh and shook her head. “Once we give word of our evacuation, though, there is no hope of hiding it. Every Kicker who hopes to bring a spouse, lover, or child from outside the clan with us when we depart will be another tongue set to wagging.”
“Then as thou didst say, speed will be of the essence,” I concluded. “We must not reveal our intentions until we can act with such speed that the other clans cannot stop us, if they would attempt to use means other than persuasion to do so.” Much as it pained me to admit it, ‘twould be quite sensible for the clans to prevent my own departure by whatever means necessary. If it came to war, my clan’s numbers and my own insight into both Pegasopolan methods and the character of the other ephors would be a valuable resource.
I did not relish the thought of violence ‘gainst my fellow pegasi, but I would not shrink from battle if it became needful. The attack upon my father had proven one thing beyond all dispute: my family was no longer safe in Cloudsdale. The only way I could prevent further violence would be to cravenly betray my principles by siding with the other ephors. Such acquiescence in the face of violence would be a betrayal of all that my clan stood for. E’en if it did bring us the security we sought, no true safety can ever come from surrender without battle. ‘Twould be a signal to all that my will could be altered by a simple threat.
While the thought of fleeing Pegasopolis in the face of violence was unflattering, ‘twas the only option available to me at this time. One clan could hardly fight an entire city. I fully intended to return to Pegasopolis once matters had settled—though whether I would return to the city as a sign that all had been resolved peacefully, or as either conqueror or conquered remained to be seen. I prayed for the former, but one of the latter now seemed increasingly likely.
Gale’s thoughts must have echoed my own, judging by her words. “There are alternatives to fleeing, Mother.”
“Name them.” After a moment’s thought, I amended, “But we will not take up arms ‘gainst Celestia.”
My daughter nodded, acknowledging my instruction. “Naturally not. However, matters have not yet come to war, and ‘tis still possible that some peaceful resolution to the matter might be found. We could simply make a carefully worded pledge of loyalty for now in the hopes that peace will be maintained. If it is, then nothing more need come of it. If it comes to war, we might defect to Celestia once in the field with less risk and no loss of honor—our oath of loyalty will be worded to allow such, though subtly enough that none will know of it until after our departure.”
“Neigh.” I grimaced and gave a quick shake of my head. “I would not rely on sophistry and wordplay to hide my intentions. Better to endure the shame of honestly breaking an oath than to engage in some artifice to break one whilst pretending I’ve kept my word.”
Gale nodded, seeming less than wholly pleased by my answer. “That will make our task more difficult. There is another option we might pursue, though if my first suggestion was unwelcome I do not think thou shalt even entertain this one.”
I waved her worries away. “Speak of it, e’en if it is a plan you expect I shan’t like. A wise leader knows the value of a dissenting opinion.” More than one warlord has met their downfall simply because none would dare to question their plans. In fairness, some of the brutal warlords in Equestria’s past were less than open to constructive criticism. Sanguine Steel might well have triumphed in his great raid ‘gainst the earth ponies, if not for the fact that none dared mention how badly he underestimated the strength of their fortifications. (5)
5: Though it’s not a very popular topic for most historians, the earliest historical records we have for Pegasopolis do indicate that prior to the Lyequine Reforms roving bands of pegasi would often attack the other pony tribes and take whatever they wished by force of arms. The Lyequine Reforms largely put an end to this by establishing a standing army and formalizing the exchange of weather service and military protection for food and other supplies. The fact that, as Sanguine Steel’s fate shows, the other pony tribes were mounting more effective resistance to such raids no doubt contributed to the success of Lyequinegus’ reforms.
My daughter took several moments to gather her thoughts before continuing. “I propose that thou invite the other ephors and all the Gerousia to a banquet within our clanhold. Once we have them here, within our power, ‘twould be easy enough to either make hostages of them, or simply remove them entirely.”
I could scarce believe my own ears. “Thou wouldst have me welcome them as guests within my home, only to make hostages or corpses of them?”
“I would,” Gale confirmed. “I am under no illusions as to the consequences of such an act. The violation of sacred hospitality is a grave offense, and would blacken our name ‘cross all Pegasopolis. E’en moreso as we would take all the Gerousia as our prisoners alongside the Ephors. However, the strategic benefits of such a course are so great that we must at least consider it.”
“I do not think we must consider such a thing at all,” I countered. “However, I will allow thee to explain thy reasoning first.”
“There is little to explain, Mother. With the government of Pegasopolis under our control, we would be free to act in whatever manner we feel best. ‘Twould be an easy thing to depose them, and name new ephors and geronts who would quickly confirm Celestia as the rightful Commander of Pegasopolis. The clans may dislike it, but they’ll not openly move ‘gainst us so long as we hold their leaders in our power. Especially given that ‘twill be difficult to organize resistance to our regime when we’ve taken those best placed to do so prisoner.”
I grimaced and gave a disapproving shake of my head. “I do not think such a coup would be as easy as that. E’en if we can manage such a crime ‘gainst all Pegasopolis with no resistance from within our own clan, there will be fighting in the streets, ambushes and murders. I cannot imagine the clans will ever willingly accept having Celestia returned to power in such a fashion.”
“I am under no illusion that ‘twould be a bloodless coup,” Gale answered. “But I think that e’en a generation of assassination and murder in the streets would not equal the toll of a single open battle if matters come to war.”
“And what of our honor?” I asked.
“Some might argue that there is more honor to be had in sacrificing our reputation for the good of all Equestria,” Gale argued. “If we can prevent a war, save untold thousands of lives, and the only cost to it is that many ponies will think less of us for doing so ... I could endure it. I would rather be derided by all than live out my days knowing that I allowed others to die because I valued my honor above their lives.” She sighed, and slowly shook her head. “If there is one thing we know from our history, it is that even the most sacred of promises and traditions can be violated when the circumstances justify such. I do not think I could value sacred hospitality above the lives of thousands.”
I found the persuasiveness my daughter’s argument intensely unsettling. I confess that I was almost tempted to accept her recommendation. Facing the prospect of civil war made it possible to countenance many ideas that might normally have been unthinkable. I found myself unpleasantly reminded of the former Archmagus of Canterlot. No doubt she would also advocate such a course, saying that the goal of preventing war justified the use of dishonorable methods.
However, that very thought revealed the flaw in her logic. “Actions have consequences, and infamous acts such as the sort of base treachery we would have to perform would have far more lasting ones. Commander Celestia desires an Equestria of conscience and decency. How are we to deliver that to her in an act of betrayal?” I offered a resigned shake of my head. “Though we might prevent war on this day, we would taint Equestria in a way that would tell throughout the ages.”
Gale frowned at me. “Does preventing this taint outweigh the value of pony lives?”
“I think that a new Equestria founded upon the idea that things like honor and righteousness are shackels to be cast aside in the face of grave matters would cost us far more,” I countered. “It is an easy thing to be a good pony when it costs nothing to do so. All are decent when decency is the only prudent course. Honor only has value when there is something to be gained from dishonorable behavior. If we are to write the first page in the history of the new Equestria that Celestia dreams of, let it be said that we chose to make an Equestria which chose what was right over what was easy, rather than one which discards honor in the face of adversity. When future generations study Equestria’s origins, I would have them take pride in what they read, rather than be ashamed of their ancestor’s actions.”
“Still thou dost speak of legacy and ideas,” Gale grumbled. “How many ponies must die before honor is the lesser consideration?”
“If Equestria is born of villainy, how many more dost thou think would suffer or die by comparison?” I countered. “Though we might prevent a war today, the Equestria we forge with such an act will fight many more.”
“So we accept the near certainty of war in our time, in order to preserve Equestria’s honor and possibly prevent many hypothetical future wars.” Gale frowned at me, her concern showing clearly in her eyes. “Art thou certain that this is the proper course to take?”
“Neigh, I am not,” I confessed with a heavy heart. “Yet I must make a choice. Let us hope I’ve made the correct one.”
Interlude 2: Danver Carrot
Once more, we return to “The Assassination of Apple Tree by the Coward Danver Carrot.” As before, I apologize for the author’s strange fondness for back-country accents in both dialogue and narrative.
It bears mentioning that the novel alternated between the perspectives of Apple Tree and Danver Carrot; while the previous excerpt largely concerned itself with Apple Tree’s rise to prominence, this one will focus on the titular event of the work. Interestingly, the book’s title is somewhat deceptive, as it actually portrays Danver Carrot in a far more sympathetic light than he’s traditionally shown in history and popular culture. Apple Tree became something of a romantic martyr after his death, which naturally lead to the demonization of his killer.
It’s purty durn crazy t’think that a year ago, the biggest worry on mah mind was how t’get enough crops outta the ground t’feed mah family. Sounds wrong t’say that ain’t so important now—ain’t nothing more important to a right and proper stallion than takin’ care of his kin—but it weren’t ... big, Ah suppose. Ah mean, ain’t a thing in the world oughta matter more to a stallion than tendin’ to his kin, but ev’ry single farmer in all of Equestria does that. Most of ‘em live out their workin’ land, raisin’ a family, and livin’ out an ordinary life. Prob’ly never goin’ more’n a day’s walk away from the place they was born their whole life, and don’t make no difference to anypony further away than that either. Don’t mean those lives ain’t important to them that lives ‘em, but history’ll just roll on by without nopony takin’ no notice of ‘em.
But everythin’ that happened in the last year? Well, ain’t nopony gonna forget it, that’s for damn sure. Apple Tree aimed to start somethin’, an’ Ah reckon he did a purty good job of it. Had ponies all over Equestria talkin’ about how the common farmer deserves a square deal, and a lotta magnates were already sayin’ they’d think about it. Turns out, when all the sharecroppers say they ain’t gonna do no more work unless they get t’keep a bit more of the crops they’s been growin’, the magnates up and listen. One farmer’s easy to ignore, but when half a magnate’s ‘croppers are gettin’ riled they gotta give up somethin’ to settle ‘em down. So on that score, things’d worked out just fine and dandy.
Thing is, it all had t’go and get so gosh-durned complicated on us.
“Shoulda knowed they was gonna pull somethin’ on us—the magnates were never gonna let us nail ‘em up without tryin’ somethin’,” Apple Tree growled as he paced around in the nice fancified Manehatten hotel suite we’d been set up in for the last couple days.
“Which magnates’re these?” Ah asked. “The ones y’don’t like, or the ones payin’ for our hotel?” Once Tree’d started gettin’ up in the polls, all kindsa ponies with money and power started payin’ real close attention to him. A lotta them tried t’find a way to shut him up, but that didn’t work out so hot for any of ‘em. Some of them decided to play it smarter and make nice with him. Not sure how many of ‘em were really behind the idea of reformin’ things and how many of ‘em just figured their best chance of hangin’ on to what they had was to make nice with Tree. That’s why we’d gone from stayin’ in cheap flophouses to fancy hotels. Not sure Ah liked the idea of takin’ favors—they don’t ever come free—but politics costs money, and silk sheets were a nice step up from straw mattresses.
“That ain’t no part of it,” he grumbled. “Ah need bits, they got ‘em. They reckon that’s gonna make ‘em get special treatment, they’s gonna have another think comin’. Ah aim to make a clean sweep of all of ‘em, don’t make no difference how many bits they throw t’me.” He grinned and grabbed himself an apple from a silver bowl full of fresh fruit. “Might as well enjoy the money they’s givin’ me ‘fore Ah take the rest.” A second later his smile went and turned itself around, and he was scowlin’ and glarin’ out the window. “Or at least, that’s what Ah reckoned on doin’ ‘fore they went and stole the election.”
“Ain’t like that’s th’end of it, Tree,” Ah went and pointed out. “Y’already got Chanc’ler Celestia herself comin’ to talk to ya ‘bout how to sort all this out an’ get a good power-sharin’ thing up an’ runnin’. The way Ah see it, things’re goin’ real good.”
“Reckon we’ll see.” Tree went back to pacin’. “Ain’t sure Ah buy all this talk about sharin’ power an’ whatnot. Probably gonna be just like every time one of the magnates says he’s gonna let the village council have a say in how things’re run. Sure, maybe for a couple years they’ll get a little say in stuff that don’t matter none, but the real power stays with them that has all the money. The way Ah reckon it, any kind of setup’s gonna consist of me standin’ up and smilin’ and sayin’ everythin’s fine, while Celestia and the magnates keep on keepin’ on. Don’t reckon they would’ve gone and tried the steal the election t’start with if they aimed on playin’ fair.”
Though Ah wouldn’t be too surprised if he had the right of it, the truth of things weren’t quite that simple. “Ain’t like they was the only ones playin’ things a little fast an’ loose.”
“We was only cheatin’ to make up for all the cheatin’ they was doin!” Tree all but shouted at me, stompin’ on the floor hard enough to make it shake. “Wouldn’t have done any of that if we didn’t need to try and keep it all fair.”
“Don’t reckon you can call any race where both sides are cheatin’ fair.” Still, Ah got the gist of his point. If Ah were in a hoofrace and the other guy tripped me, I’d figure trippin’ him right back would balance the scales and all. That don’t mean it’d be the right thing to do. “You ask me, we shoulda kept our hooves clean. Ah’d rather lose and play fair than only win ‘cause Ah was the better cheater.”
Tree let out a snort and tossed his head. “Might be Ah’d agree with ya most of the time, but this ain’t no pie-eating contest at the fair. If we lose this, a whole lotta ponies are gonna be in a bad spot. The way ah see it, the farmers and little ponies ain’t gonna be too fussed about whether we did everythin’ right and proper when it’s the difference between them starvin’ and bein’ able to feed their families.”
“We gots to do things the right way,” Ah said right back at him. “Tryin’ to set things up to be fair when the only way we can pull it off is t’cheat is like building a big fancy new barn on a buncha swampland. You start off with a bad foundation, and ain’t nothin’ good ever gonna come of it. S’like my pa always said: two wrongs don’t make a right.”
“Know what Ah’d do if Ah wanted t’turn a buncha useless swamp into a nice chunk of farmland?” Tree gave me a quick little smile. “Ah’d just figure out how to t’drain the swamp.”
“How d’you reckon you’d drain a swamp made of lies and dirty dealin’?” Ah asked.
“Ain’t gonna be like that, Danver.” Tree turned his back to me. “Just need to do one or two little things to get into the Chanc’lership, and then we can start up on the reform and keep our hooves clean.”
That all sounded nice and good, but Ah wasn’t quite sure Ah bought it. Things ain’t never that easy.
The next day was our big meetin’ with Chanc’ler Celestia. Well, possibly ex-Chanc’ler, dependin’ on who ya asked. Things was already gettin’ awful tense in Manehatten. Not quite as bad as when there was that whole thang a couple weeks back over the mess with that foal-killer, but Ah had a feelin’ things was brewin’ up. Kinda like that feelin’ in the air whenever there’s a big storm comin’, but it ain’t here quite yet. Reckon that was why when we was supposed to come fer the meetin’ at the Chanc’ler’s mansion, we had ‘bout a dozen of the local sheriffs ridin’ herd on us. (1)
1: Presumably members of the Manehatten Civil Guard, though Danver unsurprisingly likens them to the law enforcement officials he’s used to dealing with. Unlike most civilian law enforcement organizations, which were gradually folded into the Equestrian Gendarmerie by the post-Rebellion reforms, many frontier towns in Equestria still have sheriffs—mostly because the ponies living there have to be largely self-reliant, and there’s not enough infrastructure to support a proper gendarmerie presence.
Meetin’ with Chanc’ler Celestia got interestin’ fast, and not just because of how fancy everythin’ in the Chanc’ler’s mansion was. The one thing Ah ain’t never heard about her before was just how gosh darned big the mare was. Ah mean, Tree and Ah were nice big strappin’ stallions, and next to her we both looked like a couple of colts stadin’ next to their mama. Fer some reason, that made me wanna check that mah hooves were clean and mah mane was looking nice and civilized. Next to her, Ah felt like a big stupid dirt farmer who shouldn’t oughta be messin’ around with any of this government stuff. Best leave all that to ponies like her, who knew better.
Tree, though ... well Ah reckon he had just about the exact opposite reaction. If anythin’, he seemed mad when Celestia walked in through the door. Maybe ‘cause it made him feel the exact same way as Ah did, and he didn’t care for it none. Tree ain’t never cared for bein’ reminded that he weren’t the biggest tree in the forest. Literally and mixaphorically.
“Hello, Apple Tree,” she said as she stepped in and took a seat on the opposite side of the table. “I hope we can work together to find a solution to the problems facing us.”
“A solution, huh?” Tree grumbled, lookin’ sourer than he did when he made the mistake of bitin’ into an apple that was more worms than fruit. “Ah gots a purty good solution in mind fer ya. Howsabout you apologize to everypony for tryin’ to fix the election, step down, and just go on and get back to runnin’ the unicorns?”
Ah leaned over and tried to keep mah voice all quiet and whisper-like when Ah told Tree, “Ain’t no call for bein’ rude, Tree.”
“Ain’tcha ever heard of negotiatin’, Danver?” Tree whispered right back. “Y’start like yer a jerk who’s got his head halfway up his plot, and then y’work your way down to reasonable.”
“Ah know how to dicker, Tree.” Ah grumbled at him. “Just reckon you don’t need to be rude about it.”
Before we could bicker anymore the Chanc’ler cleared her throat, and all of a sudden Ah felt like Ah was a little colt again, and ma had just caught me and my brother fightin’ over the last slice of pie. After Ah spent a couple seconds feelin’ like a right fool, she done spoke up again. “I am afraid that simply would not be a viable solution, Apple Tree. If thou wilt forgive me for being so blunt, thy politics are quite divisive ‘mongst thy own kind. ‘Tis no doubt why some of thy fellow earth ponies felt such fear at the prospect of thy rise to power that they felt the need to take unethical measures to prevent it.”
Tree let out an ornery snort and grumbled under his breath, “Ain’t nopony worried ‘bout my politics who’s worth worryin’ about, if y’ask me.” His tail gave a quick flick, and he raised up enough for everypony to hear the next part. “Well, let’s hear what you got in mind to fix it, then.”
The Chanc’ler gave a little nod, and used some of her alicorn magic to pull out a couple scrolls. “I think a power-sharing arrangement would be the most effective means of ensuring that everypony’s views are represented in the new government. I would remain in position as Chancellor of the Earth Ponies, whilst thou would take the post of vice-chancellor.” She raised up a hoof to cut Tree off before he could start kickin’ up a fuss over gettin’ the lower rank. “I would, of course, allow thee considerable leeway in the exercise of thy powers, as has customarily been the case.”
“Vice-chancellor does run all the day-to-day, Tree,” Ah advised him. “Maybe she gets a purtier title, but who cares s’long as you get to take care of things the way you want to? Besides, she’s gonna spend all her time up in Canterlot while you’re gonna be in the thick of things.”
“Sort of like how it don’t matter none if Ah’m sharecroppin’ on some magnate’s farm s’long as he only wants half of my harvest and don’t tell me how to push a plow?” Tree shot right back at me, addin’ in an angry shake of his head when he turned back to Celestia. “No ma’am, that ain’t gonna cut it. Ah ran for chanc’ler, not vice-chanc’ler. Way Ah see it, if anypony oughta be steppin’ down and takin’ the lower office, it should be you.”
Ah was purty surprised when Celestia’s only response was to give a little nod. “I have no objection to that in principle, though it will require substantially redefining the traditional relationship between chancellor and vice-chancellor to account for the new political realities of the situation.”
Tree dropped his voice and whispered to me. “Still ain’t sure Ah like it; Ah might be gettin’ the better title, but everypony’s used to doin’ what she says. Don’t want to end up bein’ a puppet with her pullin’ all the strings.”
“Way Ah see it, we oughta assume she’s dealin’ straight with us until she gives us a reason to think she ain’t,” Ah answered him.
“Like tryin’ to steal the election?” Tree paused, then rolled his eyes and got all sarcastical. “Yeah, Ah know, it weren’t her, it was some other ponies actin’ without her knowledge or consent. You buy that load of horseapples, you’re dumber than a bag of hammers. That’s what them political types always say when they get caught with their hooves in the cookie jar.”
“Reckon that’s what you woulda said if it was you that got caught cheatin’ first instead of her?” Ah shot right back at him.
One of Tree’s eyes gave a big twitch at that. “Your mouth’s flappin’ way too much, Danver. Might wanna see to that.” He turned his back on me and cleared his throat, then spoke all proper-like to Celestia. “Well, Ah reckon we can probably work out somethin’ that lets you keep some role in the government, just to make the change-over go a little easier. S’long as it’s clear who’s callin’ the shots— Ah don’t want everypony gettin’ mixed up on whether they oughta listen to you or me. Havin’ two chefs in the kitchen ain’t never ended well.”
“A reasonable enough measure,” Celestia agreed. “If we do not take the time to agree to boundaries and spheres of influence now, we will spend half of our term arguing over the matter.”
“Reckon you’re right on that one,” Tree gave a quick wave of his hoof. “Ah recollect two croppers spendin’ the better part of a year arguin’ over water rights on account of the magnate not spellin’ things out all clear-like.” Tree let out a snort, and pulled out a couple sheets of paper himself. Celestia didn’t need to know the paper was blank, on account of Tree not knowin’ his letters too well. (2) “Speakin’ of ponies arguin’ over property rights, Ah reckon the first big issue we oughta settle down an’ sort out is land reform. If you got enough farmland for a hundred ponies to work, it ain’t proper for one pony to own it all, and the other ninety nine to do all the work and only get to keep half their crop. We oughta change it up to be fair.”
2: At this time, illiteracy and semi-literacy were still fairly common among the lower classes in Equestria, especially for groups like rural earth pony farmers who had little practical use for the skill in their day-to-day lives. It’s easy to forget that Shadow and most of the ponies she dealt with were members of the elite upper class, and a very small cross-section of Equestrian society as a whole.
“I quite agree that things should be fair.” Celestia answered reasonably. “There is just one question I would ask of thee. What is fair? Perhaps one more question: fair for whom?”
Tree needed a couple seconds to even think about how to answer that one. “Well, it’s ... er ... it oughta be fair for everypony.” He shuffled on his cushion. “Y’know, everypony gets a fair share.”
“How much is a fair share?” Celestia asked.
Tree tripped over his words again, tryin’ to work out what to say next. “Well, the way Ah see it, everypony oughta own as much land as they need to take care of their kin. No more’n what they work themselves, either.”
“A reasonable proposition,” she answered, givin’ a considerin’ nod. “How much of their family? Immediate, or extended?” When Tree didn’t come up with a good answer to that, she hit him with another question. “What if the amount of land needed to provide for their family’s livelihood is more than they can work themselves? If a pony is injured in accident or has grown infirm due to age, wouldst thou take away his lands because he can no longer work them?”
“What?” Tree gave a quick shake of his head. “Nah, that ain’t how it oughta go!”
“Thou didst say a pony should only own as much land as he was capable of working,” Celestia answered him. “Which, it occurs to me, also raises the question of how one determines the amount of land a pony is capable of working. That can vary considerably. We would need to appoint some sort of government officials to tend to that, and considering just how many farms they would need to inspect, it would practically be a whole new branch of the government. I should also warn thee that, if Pegasopolis be any indication, government inspectors are rarely welcome in any context. And we would need to pay for this new administrative class, likely by raising taxes.”
Tree was startin’ to look a little green around the gills. “Well, Ah was gonna ... well, Ah ain’t figured that part, but—”
“There is also the matter of infrastructure to be considered,” Celestia continued on as if she hadn’t even heard him. “Right now, the local magnates are responsible for dealing with issues like irrigation, water tables, ensuring we have proper topsoil distribution and crop coverage, all kinds of things. Somepony else will need to be put in charge of all of that. As for handling future infrastructure work, like dam building and road improvements—well, that will be a rather thorny issue.”
Tree rubbed a hoof on his forehead. “Er, maybe we could have a village council or somethin’ to...”
“Then we must consider all the economic chaos that would result from transforming the economy from a system with a few large sellers of agricultural good to thousands of small independent farmers. ‘Twill certainly make bulk agricultural purchases exceedingly difficult. No doubt given sufficient time a class of middlemares will emerge to fill that need, but in the short term ... ‘twill be difficult.”
“But—”
“Finally, I wonder how much actual productivity we would be getting out of our farmland if we so heavily disincentivize hard work. Would ponies truly put their all into cultivating their land if they knew the government would take it away the instant they could no longer work it? Not to mention that if we base it on need, we will find that more efficient farmers receive smaller portions than those whose skills are lacking. Mayhaps the system could be altered to reward hard work and initiative by allowing the best farmers to have larger portions and pass some land on to their heirs, but then a new magnate class would emerge before long.” The Chanc’ler let out a sigh and gave a shake of her head. “I support reforms to ease the burdens of the common farmer, but doing it by way of land redistribution brings so very many questions to mind.”
Tree’s eye started twitching something fierce—Ah don’t reckon he much cared for all of them questions Celestia seemed so keen on askin’. “Well what’s your idea for fixin’ it then, if givin’ the land to the farmers ain’t gonna do no good?”
Celestia saw him gettin’ all ornery, and just gave him a friendly little smile. “Well, since thou didst ask...” She magicked up another scroll, and started readin’. “I think the current disparity in land ownership is a product of much deeper economic imbalances. Land redistribution would only treat the symptoms of the disease, not the root cause. I think that by increasing the legally mandated minimum share for sharecroppers, instituting a gradual buyback program for sharecroppers, and establishing a national bank to prevent magnates from using extortionate loan practices, we can bring things to a more equitable and far stabler state.”
The two of us stared at her for a tick, workin’ out what all those fancy words ideas meant in the language of plain-talkin’ ponies. After a couple second, Tree spoke up. “So how long d’you reckon it’d take for all that fancy stuff to happen?”
She took another look at her scroll. “I believe within thirty years, these policies can double the income of the average sharecropper, not to mention make considerable progress in laying the foundations for the reemergence of a proper yeoman farmer class.”
“Thirty years?” Tree scoffed at that. “What good’s that gonna do farmers who need help now?”
“It might not be as effective as thou wouldst wish in the short term, sir,” Celestia admitted. “But we must consider the wider implications; in the long term—”
“In the long term we’re all dead,” Tree cut her off, earnin’ himself a dirty look from just about everypony in the room except me and Celestia herself. “Well, all of us except you. Maybe you can afford to wait thirty years for things to get better, but Ah reckon the poor farmers tryin’ to scratch a livin’ outta the dirt want help now, not thirty years down the line.” He let out an ornery snort. “Assumin’ this whole story ain’t just somethin’ that sounds real nice right now but ain’t gonna come to nothin’. Thirty years is a long time for ponies to forget everythin’ you promised ‘em.” Tree got to his hooves. “Reckon we’ve said all there is to say, ‘bout now.”
“Very well.” Celestia rose and gave him a quick nod. “We will resume meeting on the morrow?”
Tree stared at her for a long moment, then very slowly nodded. “Yeah, reckon we can.”
Soon’s we was back at our hotel, Tree stopped tryin’ to be even remotely diplomatic and lemme know what he really thought about how things went. “What a gigantic load of horseapples. Shoulda known it weren’t gonna end any other way. She don’t think there’s no need to change nothin’, just throw enough fancy words at the uppity farmer to shut him up ‘cause he think’s somethin’s gonna be done now, and then wait for him to get old and die off.”
Ah stepped up and tried to get a hoof on his shoulder to make him settle a bit. “Ah really don’t think that’s the way of it, Tree. Ah reckon it’s just that the two of y’all got real different ideas on how things oughta be done. Way Ah see it, both of y’all had some good points. You’re right that the magnates gotta be taken down a couple pegs, but she ain’t wrong about how unless we change a whole lotta things that’re gonna make everythin’ real messy, all it’s gonna mean is that by the time your foals are runnin’ the farm, it’ll just be a new crop of magnates. That, or some govment official who does as close to the same thing as a magnate as makes no difference.”
“Ain’t gonna be like that Danver,” Tree insisted.
“What makes ya so sure of that?”
“It ain’t gonna be like that ‘cause Ah said it ain’t gonna be like that!” Ah jumped back real quick when he slammed a hoof down on the table hard enough to put a big dent in the wood. For a couple ticks Tree just stood there, growlin’ an carryin’ on like he wanted nothing more than to find somethin’ or somepony to put his hoof through. Finally, he seemed to settle down a bit, and moved on over to the couch. “Sorry about gettin’ all riled, Danver. All this pressure’s just really gettin’ to me, know what Ah mean?”
“Reckon Ah do.” Ah trotted on over the bar, and poured him some applejack and myself a little carrot brandy. Ah brought his drink, and he tossed it right straight down the hatch. Ah just sipped at mine, and got back to talkin’ “This whole situation’s just a big mess, an’ Ah don’t reckon ah much care for it. We gots to do somethin’ to sort it all out, but Ah don’t rightly know what.”
“Ah’ve got one idea.” Tree trotted back to the bar, and poured himself another drink. “The way Ah sees it, there ain’t no more point in tryin’ to talk things out with her. Just gonna be more of the same; a whole lotta fancy talk, and nothin’ real behind it all. Even if we work out some kinda deal, it’s crystal clear now that Celestia and the magnates ain’t never gonna let me do what needs doin’.” He tossed his drink back and grimaced, then poured another. “The only way things’re gonna get done is if we make it happen.”
Somethin’ about the way he said that just didn’t quite sit right with me. Weren’t any one thing Ah could put my hoof on and say ‘yeah, that’s it,’ but the whole thing just sounded a bit ... off. “Tree? Mind tellin’ me what exactly it is you’re sayin’?”
Tree settled into a chair opposite me, starin’ down at his drink. “Swapped a couple letters with one of them Pegasopolan A-phors. Well, had a fella do the writin’ and readin’ for me, but he wrote what Ah told him to.” He done waves his hoof like he was swattin’ away a fly or somethin’. “Point is, this Swift Blade fella let me know that if push came to shove, the pegasi would have my back. Reckon it might be gettin’ to about time to take him up on that.”
“Take him up on...” Ah dug hoof into my ear to make sure there weren’t a bunch of wax messin’ me up, ‘cause ain’t no way he coulda meant what Ah thought he did. “What’re you sayin’, Tree? That if you can’t work out some kinda deal where you get everythin’ you want, you’re gonna call up an army of pegasi and just take over?”
“Ain’t sayin’ that’s what Ah wanna do, Danver.” He got up and walked over to the balcony, takin’ his drink with him. “Don’t think Ah don’t get what could happen if Ah ask the pegasi to back me up on this. They’s soldiers, and Ah reckon they’d solve the problem the way most soldiers will deal with anythin’ that gets in their way.” He wasn’t lookin’ at me proper, but Ah could see his shoulders shakin’ just a bit. “Maybe it’ll work out best, this way. The magnates, the bankers, and all the rest of them have deep roots. Like a bunch of rotten trees stuck in the middle of a good orchard. Just choppin’ em down won’t do no good, you’ll still have the stumps to deal with. Might even have new trees spring up, or have the rot spread to the rest of the orchard. Only way you’ll ever really fix the problem is to clear the whole area and start again from scratch.”
“We’re talkin’ about ponies here, not trees.” Ah took a real deep breath, and tried to settle my mind a bit. “Look, Apple Tree, what you’re sayin’ ... it just ain’t right.”
“Well of course it ain’t right.” He tried to take another sip of his apple booze, but his hooves were shakin’ so fierce while he did it that he didn’t get but half of it to his lips. “Ain’t nothing about this whole damn mess that’s anywhere close to right. But s’far as Ah can see, there ain’t no other option except givin’ up, and that ain’t no option at all. Ah ain’t come this far just to sell out all the ponies back home now.” He finally managed to get his drink down—or at least, what was still left in the glass. “It’s a damn mucked-up lump of horseapples all around. Guess alls we can really do now is see the whole thing to the end, and hope we come out the other side with somethin’ to make everythin’ that’s comin’ worth it.”
Ah couldn’t believe my ears. “You make it sound like you figure on startin’ a war, Tree.”
He just shook his head, and stared out over the city. He couldn’t even stand to face me. “Yeah, Ah don’t reckon the magnates are gonna give up and let us normal farmers have a fair share without a fight.” He leaned halfway over the the rail on the balcony. “Like Ah said, it’s a bucked up mess. Ah just don’t see any other way outta it.”
Ah did. Celestia forgive me, but with Apple Tree standin’ there, with his back to me, right next to the balcony, Ah saw a way to stop the war. A way, at least Ah thought at the time, to save all those thousands of lives. Thinkin’ back on it, there were probably other things Ah coulda done, but right then and there ... it was all Ah could think to do. All Ah had to do was buck him in the hindquarters, and he’d go tumblin’ ass over teakettle right over the rail, and all the way to the ground. The hotel weren’t some giant tower or nothin’, but we were high enough and he’d be landin’ on a hard cobblestone road.
So Ah did it.
Ah killed my best friend.
Ah thought it was the only way to stop a war. Instead, all Ah ended up doin’ was startin’ it.
In the following days we moved as quickly as we could whilst maintaining secrecy. ‘Twas no easy task to arrange the transit of an entire clan, and doubly difficult when subterfuge was involved. E’en though Gale had arranged to make it known that I intended to survey the borders to explain my clan’s departure from Cloudsdale, I knew the story could not withstand intense scrutiny of our preparations. On more than one occasion, I gave thanks to Lyequinegus for ensuring that pegasi would not value material goods. Had my clan been as fond of meaningless possessions as the ponies of the ground were, ‘twould have been impossible to manage the task. E’en with only weapons, armor, rations, and other basic necessities being prepared for transportation, the task was considerable.
I was in the midst of speaking with Stalwart regarding his own responsibilities in the matter. Though his greatest talents lay in the shaping of young ponies into proper warriors, he had proven to be an apt sergeant in most other respects as well. Only a fool neglects the value of such capable ponies because their formal rank is low. In the chaos of battle, ‘tis rare for a general to hold effective command over anypony who lies beyond the reach of their voice. ‘Tis the sergeant who directs his ponies in battle, so that the cunning plans of generals might actually be executed. (1)
1: It’s worth mentioning that while Stalwart’s official rank was simply “sergeant,” that rank was much broader and far less formalized in Shadow’s time. The rank had not been broken down into the numerous types of sergeants featured in the modern Guard, so a sergeant could be anything from a mere squad leader to a veteran soldier advising generals. Stalwart would be somewhat equivalent to a modern Command Sergeant Major. While he formally only had the rank and duties of an ordinary sergeant, he frequently served as an advisor both on the affairs of the ordinary soldiers within the clan and other military and practical matters.
Whilst Stalwart seemed focused upon the discussion of his duties inspecting and overseeing the storage of our weapons with his usual commendable efficiency, I could not fail to notice the troubled frown on his face, nor the way his eyes drifted into thought whenever duty did not demand his attention. ‘Twas plain to see that his mind was not wholly upon the task before him.
I made no remark on the matter as he set himself to the task, e’en when he barely glanced at several bundles of wing-blades that were not properly wrapped in their oilcloth. A quick aside to one of the other ponies saw the matter tended to without calling attention to the sergeant’s laxness. To speak to him of the matter in public would only serve to call further attention to his distress. Doing so would be most unseemly, especially in the presence of those under his immediate command.
Thankfully, the sergeant was not long at his task before ‘twas time to see to other matters. The proper storage of weapons is something any sensible soldier knows the value of, so there was little risk that they would be derelict in their duties. Though I still dearly hoped that such would not be the case, in all likelihood their lives would shortly depend upon the quality of their wargear.
Once we were out of sight and earshot of all others, I turned to Stalwart and made my concerns known. “Thou art not fully focused ‘pon thy duties, sergeant. What is the reason for it?”
Stalwart’s ears pressed back flat ‘gainst his skull. “My apologies, m’lady. ‘Tis a matter of neither consequence nor importance, and I’ll not let it linger ‘pon my mind any longer nor distract me from the task at hoof.”
I felt a moment of irritation at his refusal to speak of the matter. “If the matter were unimportant, ‘twould not have distracted thee from thy duties to begin with.” I took a moment to soften my tone with him, for my words were harsher than I’d intended. “Speak of what troubles thee, for it might be that ‘tis within my power to set it right.”
Stalwart gave the matter several moments’ thought, then agreed to it with a nod. “As you wish, m’lady. I have noted that several of our recent preparations do not seem wholly in line with our stated intention of making ready to go on campaign in the event of war. We have shown far too little interest in arranging for a home watch or tending to the thunderforges. We also seem intent upon packing all of our supplies, rather than maintaining a reserve or establishing a supply line.” His voice dropped, and he stepped nearer to me. “I am ... aware that matters between you and the Ephorate have been strained of late. And of your loyalty to former Commander Celestia. These facts suggest a course of action which is not in line with the clan’s stated intentions.”
“I see.” I looked to him and tried to take his measure, but his face remained an impassive mask. Finally, I had no choice but to speak plainly. “If when the time came I ordered thee to do something other than fight for the Ephorate’s cause, what wouldst thou say of it?
Stalwart answered without a moment’s hesitation. “You are my materfamilias. I will follow you to whatever end, m’lady—as would any pony of Clan Kicker.”
Though that declaration warmed my heart, it also surprised me. “I have truly earned their loyalty to such an extent?”
Stalwart gave a quick shake of his head. “Neigh, you have not earned it, m’lady. You have never needed to earn it, for you have had it from the moment you became materfamilias of the clan. You lead and watch over the clan, and in return the clan obeys your orders. That is the way of things.”
I noted that despite his words, Stalwart still seemed troubled. ‘Tis easy to speak of such devotion, but far harder to live it. There was a hollowness to his words, as if they were an oft-repeated litany that he did not entirely believe. After several seconds of pained silence, he spoke once more. “I know my duty and will not shirk from it, m’lady, but that does not mean it is an easy thing. Though I am loyal to the clan above all else, there are others to whom I am bonded. The thought of severing those bonds is a painful one.”
“Thou speakest of thy wife,” I concluded.
“Aye, m’lady, and our daughter.” He averted his eyes, a troubled frown on his face. “I do not know how Sierra would react if I were to ask her to abandon her own clan for mine. The Doos are no less proud of their lineage than we are.”
“None could blame thee for thy distress, then.” Despite our recent disagreements, I was pained by the thought of severing ties with Rightly. For Stalwart, who had wed and sired a foal, the loss would be far keener than I could ever feel. There was a quiet resignation to my voice when I spoke. “I would not sever thy family merely to uphold my own ideals. If thou wouldst ask it of me, I will release thee from thy vows to the clan so that thou might remain with thy wife and child.”
Stalwart was silent for some time before he answered with pained resignation. “I thank you for the offer, m’lady, but if I were to abandon my duties I would no longer be worthy to name myself husband to Sierra nor father to Astra.” He let out a heavy sigh, and there was a note of something akin to desperate hope to his voice when he continued. “Regardless, ‘tis possible that Sierra will choose to accompany me if I ask it of her. If Rightly Doo is as noble a stallion as his reputation suggests, I do not think he would refuse her the chance to join me without loss of honor.”
“Aye, his honor is most precious to him.” The mention of Rightly naturally brought our last meeting to mind. Looking upon the matter with the clarity of hindsight, I had not been entirely fair to him. I had allowed my distress and anger over the attack upon my father to cloud my own judgment. ‘Twas a wholly understandable failing, but a failing nonetheless. Had matters proceeded otherwise, I wonder if I might not be in the midst of planning a departure from Cloudsdale. In all likelihood, politics still would have split us in twain, but we might have found a more amicable ending to things, at the least.
“I’ve your permission to speak to Sierra on the matter, then?” Stalwart asked. “And your blessing to offer her the hospitality of our clan for as long as she might require it?”
“But of course,” I assured him. “I could hardly deny hospitality to the wife of one of my most faithful warriors.” After a moment’s careful thought, I amended my permission. “However, I would ask that thou obtain an oath of silence on the matter should she refuse to accompany thee. I would not have her leave her meeting with thee only to inform Rightly of our plans.”
“A reasonable measure,” he conceded. “Though I hope an unneeded one.”
“As do I.” For a brief moment I stepped out of my role as materfamilias, and offered him a smile. “I wish thee the best of luck in thy endeavour, Stalwart. I see no reason to tarry on the matter: thy duties will abide for the time thou needest to speak to thy wife.”
Stalwart offered a short nod. “Aye, m’lady. You have my thanks.” He offered a final salute and then turned about, moving for the Doo’s clanhold as quickly as he could without seeming to move with undue haste.
That matter attended to, I returned my mind to the greater, though perhaps no less important, tasks at hoof. As I traversed the compound, ensuring that all preparations were continuing apace, my thoughts lingered upon Stalwart’s declaration of loyalty. Would all of my clan feel thus, when they learned of my intentions? I could only pray that they would; ‘twould pain me beyond words if my actions split my own clan in twain.
I was engaged in looking over the thunderforges and seeing to the securing of their latest goods when Father sought me out, Gale serving as his guide. As was his way he greeted me with a hug, partly out of affection and partly so that he could know my location. Once we parted he kept a hoof upon mine, entrusting himself to my care.
The wounds left by the attack ‘pon him still lingered, a reminder of the latest outrage perpetrated by Pegasopolis ‘gainst my clan. Though the wounds he had suffered were not severe, Father no longer healed with the swiftness of a young stallion. My eyes lingered for some time on the half-healed cut along his brow, and for a brief moment I wished that his attacker had lived long enough to fall into my hooves. Though I was proud of my father for showing that neither age nor infirmity had dulled his skills, taking vengeance personally would have been undeniably satisfying.
Father cleared his throat, and I turned my attention away from his wounds and to the pony himself. “Shadow, ‘twould seem that there has been a misunderstanding. My books are being packed away I see no need for such a thing when thou art merely preparing to go on campaign.” He gave an annoyed wave of his free hoof. “Yet when I tried to correct the fools who insisted on packaging them, rather than simply stay the foolishness I was referred further up the chain of command, until at last I stand before thee. I pray thee, put an end to the matter. I’ve already lost my place in the Aristrotelian text I was engaged in the other day.”
“If thou wert parted from reading further works of Aristrotle, then thou shouldst thank me for the great service I’ve done thee,” I jested. I have never enjoyed Aristrotle’s works: they are so dense as to be all but unreadable, and Aristrotle himself is plainly far too impressed by his own intelligence. That is not to say that there was no wisdom to be found in his texts—merely that I found no pleasure and much frustration in reading them.
“Regardless of thine opinion on my choice in philosophers, the fact remains that I’ve been denied my books and the company of anypony to read them to me,” Father groused. “One might question why an old and retired warrior’s books must be packed away if the clan is merely deploying to the battlefront.”
“Let us discuss the matter further in private, Father.” I would have informed him of my intentions to defect from Cloudsdale sooner, were it not for the fact that Father’s duties to the Gerousia had kept him occupied much of late. Hardly surprising, considering all that was passing in Equestria. My presence among the Ephorate’s ranks had been requested more than once, and each request met by pleading that duties to my clan prevented my attendance. I feared that if I left my clanhold and stood before the others they might see some sign of my intentions within my countenance. Or worse, that standing before Rightly once more might make my own resolve waver. Though my absence might arouse some suspicion, considering the manner of my departure when last I left ‘twas likely they would merely attribute it to my lingering fury.
I led Father to my own quarters, Gale still in tow but remaining deferentially silent in the presence of her elders. Once we arrived, my daughter set to ensuring our privacy, whilst I quickly crafted seats for myself and Father. Once we were comfortably seated and ready to proceed, I wasted no further time before addressing the matters at hoof. “Father, I think you should know that I have decided to cut ties with Pegasopolis and depart for Commander Celestia’s court in Canterlot. That is the reason thy books are being prepared for transport.”
Father was silent for some time in the wake of my declaration. When at last he spoke, there was a tension in his voice that spoke of barely contained incredulity and mayhaps e’en a measure of anger. “When it first occurred to me that thou might value loyalty to a failed Commander rightfully deposed by the Ephorate, I assured myself that thy sentiments would not so o’erwhelm thee that they wouldst drive thee to precipitous action. I am displeased to find that I was mistaken in that hope.”
“Precipitous?” I asked incredulously. ”Father, thinkest thou that I have made this decision without careful consideration? I would not abandon Pegasopolis on a whim; I do so because it is the only honorable course left open to me.”
“Honor?” Father frowned at me. “Thou speakest of honor whilst thou plots a betrayal of all Pegasopolis into the hooves of our enemies?”
“Commander Celestia is not our enemy,” I countered, rising from my seat as I did so.
“She is not the Commander of Pegasopolis anymore,” Father answered, his tone strident. “Hast thou forgotten that she was deposed for base incompetence by the Ephorate, in accordance with our ancient laws and traditions?”
“Ancient laws for ancient times.” I scowled at nothing in particular. “The Ephorate has not deposed a Commander for countless centuries.” Luna’s own banishment had happened far too quickly for the Ephorate to attempt such a thing if they even would have wished to. Luna was our Commander, and ‘twas possible that some might have felt it their duty to support her, e’en if she had fallen into darkness. As it was, the clash between Luna and Celestia began and ended before the news of it even reached Cloudsdale.
“The law does not cease to be the law simply on account of being old.” Father argued. “If the ancient laws were no longer needed, we would have removed them. No doubt that was part of what the unicorn whorse Celestia kept at her side intended to do. However, the very same ancient and supposedly irrelevant laws that saw her removed from power were also the ones that established and defined the role of commander to begin with. How can a law be applicable when it defines her powers, yet so ancient as to be wholly irrelevant when it discusses how she might be removed?”
“Pegasopolis has not truly been governed in accordance with the old laws ever since Commander Celestia assumed the office.” By instinct I tried to meet Father’s eyes, though the effort was largely wasted with him. “For good or for ill, Commander Celestia was largely content to leave us to our own devices. Many within Pegasopolis were less than pleased by the news of her planned visit, e’en before we had any cause to complain of how her authority would be exercised. I suspect we’d grown far too content in our effective independence, and feared that she might begin to exercise those powers which were hers by right, but went unused.”
“What we may or may not have feared is of little consequence, ultimately.” Father idly brushed his hooves along the nearby clouds. “Nor is the question of whether the current legal arrangement is ideal for our circumstances. The fact remains that Celestia was removed from office in the proper manner, and that your current plans constitute an act of treason against all of Pegasopolis.” Father turned from me. “Gale, surely thou canst not support the mad course thy mother has set! Reason with her!”
Gale, who had to this remained silent both out of deference to her elders and an understandable wish to not be involved in the argument, squirmed when my father addressed her. After a brief and pained silence, she answered him. “I fully endorse and stand by my mother, whatever course of action she might choose. With respect, grandsire, thou dost not have the right or authority to dispute her in this matter. Though Mother is thy daughter, she is thy materfamilias above all else.”
Though Gale’s words were harsher than I might have chosen, they were not untrue. I offered my own response to father’s previous words. “Though some may call my plans treason ‘gainst Pegasopolis, to act otherwise would be a treason against my conscience.” I stepped forward, and placed a hoof upon my father’s shoulder. “It is not an easy thing to put into words, but I have faith in Commander Celestia and her vision for all of Equestria. I believe that if we stand by her side, we will be the better for it. I know in my heart that she was wrongly removed by the Ephors; that they judge her too harshly for errors made with good intentions, and see wickedness where none exists.” I wrapped a wing ‘round my father’s shoulders and pulled him close to me. “If thou canst not have faith in her, then I ask that thou support my own belief in her, at the least. Didst thou not step down and name me as materfamilias?”
Father was silent for some time, and when he spoke there was a strained quality to his voice. “It may be that I was too hasty in that choice, if thou wouldst lead our clan ‘pon the path of treason and dishonor.”
I withdrew from him, cut to the quick by his words. Pain soon transformed itself into cold anger. “Think what thou wilt, Father. I am materfamilias of the clan and I have given my orders. I do not wish to debate or discuss them any further. The decision is made and thou shalt abide by it, as every member of the clan must.”
Father went stiff at my declaration, and offered a slow, deliberate salute. “As you wish, materfamilias.”
I was stung by the cold formality of his words, but that only made me all the more wroth with him. “Thou art dismissed, Father.” He wasted no time in his departure, e’en shrugging Gale aside when she stepped forward to guide him.
Gale and I spent some time in mutual pained silence. Though I had not expected that Father would be pleased by the news, I had hoped he might not react so poorly that we would quarrel over the matter. It boded ill for the manner in which the rest of my clan might respond to the news of my plans: how many would echo Stalwart’s devotion, and how many would take Father’s position? Would any of those who disapproved of my choice be so displeased that they might even break from the clan? Might I face not only the horror of going to war against my fellow pegasi, but e’en the ignominy of shedding kinsblood? (2) ‘Twas a most upsetting prospect.
2: In Shadow’s time, the killing of family or clan members was considered one of the most heinous acts imaginable, even if the killing occurred in otherwise justified circumstances such as wartime. Both sides in the Rebellion faced frequent difficulties caused by soldiers refusing to battle anypony with whom they shared blood ties.
Gale finally broke the silence. “That ... did not proceed as well as I had hoped it might.”
“Indeed it did not,” I concurred. I stared at the doorway my father had so recently exited from and tried to return my thoughts to the tasks before me. It proved a fruitless endeavour—my mind was now fully occupied with what had passed between Father and I. Once ‘twas plain to see that I would not be able to think ‘pon my duties for some time, I turned to Gale. “I would have privacy for a time. Are there any matters that require my attention, or can the clan continue its preparations without me?”
Gale stepped forward and briefly pressed her side to mine. “I believe we can persevere without thee for a brief while, Mother. There are only a few minor matters I would inform thee of first: rations for three days are set aside in preparation for unforeseen circumstances along the way to Canterlot. Arms and armor have been packed with all due haste and appropriate care to match our supposed goals. I have also sent word through one of my agents to Canterlot—concealed within a present to young Midnight Sparkle, in fact. Also, I have taken the liberty of having Dusk Charger confined to his quarters.”
Though I half-suspected that Gale had mentioned the matter last in the hope that I would fail to note it, her treatment of my new ward did not escape me. “I see. Might I inquire as to why thou hast had thy foster brother treated as a prisoner?”
Gale blinked in surprise at the question. “Need thou e’en ask, Mother? He is a Charger. The security risk posed by his presence in the midst of our secret plans in obvious. If he were to inform his mother of what we intended, the other clans would surely try to stop us.”
I frowned at my daughter. “He is our guest, and we are honor-bound to treat him as such. As is he to respect our clan and its secrets.”
My daughter gave a mournful shake of her head. “Mother, if thou dost continue to believe so blindly in the honor of all ponies, I fear that thou shalt shortly be given cause to regret it. Putting aside that for far too many ponies honor is a thing to be discarded when there is enough at stake to justify it, do not forget that ponies can disagree quite violently as to what honor requires.”
“I am not blind to the ways of the world, Gale,” I answered, a hint of choler entering my voice. “There are those in Pegasopolis who have no decency, but I do not have any reason to count Dusk Charger among their number. At the very least, I would speak to him further on this matter.”
“Art thou certain such would be a worthwhile use of thy time?” Gale inquired. “I cannot imagine anything of use would come of interrogating him. He cannot know of his mother’s intentions beyond the most general of terms, and e’en if he suspected nothing of our intentions prior to his confinement, he must surely have guessed of them by now.” One of her ears flicked, as if dismissing a troublesome insect. “E’en a mind as simple as his could surely grasp that he has been confined in order to prevent him from learning our intentions and betraying us to his mother.”
“Nonetheless, I will speak with him.” I thought on the matter for a moment and reached a conclusion. “There is the possibility that he might be swayed to our cause, though I do not think it likely. There is nothing to be lost in the effort, however. Should that fail, I will have his oath of secrecy and then release him to return to his mother.”
Gale stared at me as though I had grown a horn and proclaimed myself empress of Equestria (3). “Thou wouldst release him with no guarantee of his silence beyond a mere oath? I was fearful enough when there was only a risk that he might find some means to contact his mother—and thou wouldst not only allow him to do so freely, but give up a valuable hostage as well? That is one of the principal aims of fostering, Mother! So long as he is under our power, we have no reason to fear an attack by the Chargers. That thou wouldst not only release him, but do after informing him of our intention to leave Cloudsdale as well ... there is honor, and then there is naive madness.”
3: And ponies say Shadow doesn’t have a sense of humor .
My choler, still seething after the conversation with Father, flared up one more. “Why is it that the highest ‘mongst all of my clan cannot grasp the virtue of obedience? It comes easily enough to the others, yet not my own immediate family. Disapprove of my choices as thou wilt, Gale, but thou shalt abide by them. If I choose to release Dusk Charger, thou shalt abide by it. Are my orders understood?”
Gale quailed back as she grasped how wroth I had become, her ears folded back and her head ducked submissively. “My sincerest apologies, Mother. I meant neither insolence nor disrespect with my words, merely to offer thee what wise counsel I could. If I o’erstepped my bounds, I shall make what amends I can for it.”
As my temper calmed and my humors returned to a proper balance, I waved my daughter’s apology aside. “Think nothing of it; in truth ‘twas I who was o’er harsh with thee. I am still far too troubled by the discussion with Father, and ‘twould seem thou art the target of all my fury, e’en that which thou hast not earned. For that, thou hast my apologies on the matter.”
“No apology is required, Mother.” Gale deferentially ducked her head to me.
“Nonetheless, I offer thee one.” I stepped forward and offered my daughter a brief embrace. Sadly, our pressing duties did not allow for anything longer than that. “Now, I must have words with Dusk Charger. Attend to whatever tasks lie before thee, for we’ve much to do and precious little time to see it done.” As she turned to go, I set a hoof upon her shoulder to arrest her departure. “Do not think we will not have words at some point regarding thy treatment of Dusk. Though I will not discuss it whilst I am still far too wroth with others, I am most displeased with thee.”
Gale shrunk down at the condemnation, and meekly nodded before setting a course to whatever task awaited her. For my part, I made my way to Dusk Charger’s guest quarters. In truth—despite my less than approving words to Gale—I could see the prudence in her measures against Dusk Charger. Though I did not think imprisonment needful in his case, there were certainly many among the clans who would have betrayed our intentions. Though at that time I believed my own kind largely immune to the sorts of corruption commonly found amongst our earthbound kin, I was not blind to the flaws of the pegasi. Honor could easily be twisted to justify terrible acts, and not all who dwelt in clouds clove to it.
Dusk’s guest quarters were quite comfortable by the standards of Pegasopolis, but the presence of a rather large and heavily armed and armored stallion made plain that he was no longer a guest. Dusk himself seemed to have been freshly roused from a brief rest. He could hardly be chastised for his idleness, given that there was precious little else he could do to occupy his time. Especially since, as Father had already noted, those books the clan owned were no longer available. He seemed pleased enough to see me, though that might have been less on account of enjoying my company and more that I simply offered a diversion from his current tedium. “Ephor, it is a pleasure.”
“Likewise, Dusk.” A quick survey of the room revealed that one of the walls was now somewhat diminished, and several small cloud-sculptures had been crafted. ‘Twas unsurprising that Dusk sought whatever diversion he could in his captivity. After some thought, I chose to broach the matter carefully. “I trust thou hast been well?”
“Well enough, m’lady,” he answered, his initial genial smile fading slightly. “I could imagine a far worse prison.”
My pride stung at the remark. I had given Bright my word that her son would be well taken care of, and instead Gale had abused the trust I had granted her. “Thou hast my apologies for Gale’s actions. ‘Twould seem that my earlier reprimand for her shameful behavior did not have the desired effect.”
“Think nothing of the matter,” Dusk offered graciously. “I would not be the cause of discord between mother and daughter. I only pray that Gale might some day cease to be so distrustful of me.” He looked to me, and his eyes turned shrewd. “I must wonder, though, if there is more to the matter than simply her dislike of me. E’en from within my confinement, ‘tis plain to see that your clan has been most active of late.”
“There has been much talk of war,” I answered carefully. “‘Tis only prudent to ensure that my clan is ready for battle.”
“Quite so, m'lady.” His genial smile returned once more. “If I might be so bold as to ask a question of you?” I granted permission to do so with a wave. “If matters do come to war, which side do you intend to take?”
So now we had come to the true matter. I would not demean myself by lying to him, especially when the truth would shortly be revealed regardless. “If it comes to war, I will fight for the true Commander of all Pegasopolis: Celestia.”
Dusk closed his eyes in thought for several seconds, slowly nodding to himself. “That would explain your daughter’s zeal in imprisoning me. I can tell you in confidence that Mother has made it plain that she will take the opposite side. In some ways, I think she desires such a war. She relishes the challenge of it.” He quickly held up a hoof to forestall any comment I might offer. “I do not say that she suffers from bloodlust; she wants no needless wars. However, I think she would enjoy testing herself against the magi of Unicornia, especially the former Archmagus. Mayhaps she e’en desires to meet Celestia herself on the battlefield.”
That last was unexpected, though perhaps unsurprising. In her youth Bright had been an eager duelist, quick to test her skill against anypony who might be her better. I would not hesitate to name her the best warrior of the Ephorate, though I flatter myself that I am a better general, and each of the others has similar strengths. Such was largely a matter of speculation, regardless. The only ephor she’d actually had occasion to meet in battle was Steel Striker in a relatively minor honor duel. She had won, but a bloodless fight is hardly a test of a warrior’s skill.
Dusk spoke once more. “I would advise care, m'lady. If you stand on the other side of the battlefield from Mother, she will seek you as well. I would not wish to see that.”
“Then let us hope war might yet be averted.” I did not relish the prospect of facing Bright Charger in battle, but that is not to say that I feared it. Though Bright had superior skill in straightforward single combat, that merely proved that I would be a fool to face her in such. The lance she favored is a weapon of directness, and my own skills lay in the indirect approach. Only a fool chooses a battle that plays to their opponent’s strengths and neglects their own.
Though I knew the outcome before the question left my lips, I still felt it proper to ask it of him. “Wouldst thou join me in fighting for the true Commander?”
Dusk regretfully shook his head. “I could hardly go to war against my own mother.” He looked to the door, his thoughts no doubt upon the guard lingering outside it to prevent his departure. “Might I ask what is to become of me, then? Am I to remain a prisoner, to be used as leverage against Mother to aid your flight from Cloudsdale?”
“Neigh.” My response drew a surprised blink from Dusk. “I would not hold as a prisoner one whom entered my clanhold as a guest. If thou wilt not join us in Canterlot, then go in peace. I only ask that thou not speak of my intentions to thy mother or any other until my departure is complete.”
Dusk stared at me for several seconds, as if trying to make sense of my words. “Truly? All you would ask of me in return for my release is my silence?”
“I do not ask it as a condition of thy release,” I politely corrected. “I merely ask it.”
Dusk considered me carefully for some time. “I see, so that is the way of it. Very well then, m'lady. You have my word of honor that I’ll not betray your secrets.”
“I asked no oath of thee.” An oath gained under duress has very little value, and for the moment Dusk could still be considered a prisoner.
“I give it freely and of my own accord.” Dusk offered me a deep, respectful nod. “I will further say that if we should meet on the field of battle, I’ll not raise my lance to you.”
“Nor I my blade to thee,” I responded.
To ensure that there would be no misunderstandings on the matter, I walked with Dusk to the gates of the compound. To my surprise, Gale awaited us. No doubt she wished to ensure that he left the compound herself. Dusk offered her a pleasant smile and a polite bow. “M'lady Gale, I am afraid I must leave thy pleasant company. It is often said that absence makes the heart grow fonder.”
Gale glowered at the stallion. “Then let us hope that I might spend the rest of my days growing fonder of thee.”
As was his way, Dusk met my daughter’s barbed words with a smile, and then departed our compound.
For the remainder of that day and all the next, we continued at our tasks, making ready for our departure from Cloudsdale. Matters were near readiness now; I intended to depart the next morning. Early enough to hopefully go largely unnoted, but not so early as to arouse suspicion. ‘Twas of the utmost importance that the others believe my stated intention of taking my clan to survey the borders.
In the interests of security, I would not be informing the bulk of my clan of our destination and purpose until after we’d left the city of Cloudsdale. Though it sat ill with me to hold my silence for so long, such was the cruel necessity of the matter. I knew there were some within my clan who would not approve of the defection, and better that they not learn of it until ‘twas too late to stop it. Any who wished to leave the clan and return to Cloudsdale would be allowed to do so, but only once we could be sure their return would not prevent our own departure.
I was in the midst of supervising the final loading of our armor when Gale sought me out, urgently pulling me aside and seeking one of the less occupied areas of the clanhold. The tension in her shoulders and the manner in which her wings gave near-constant aggravated twitches bespoke the urgency of the matter; I had rarely seen her in such a state of upset. “Mother, I have just received word from Manehatten. Apple Tree has been assassinated.”
The news struck me as if it were a blow from a hammer-hoof. The negotiations between Apple Tree and Commander Celestia had been the last real hope of containing the crisis before matters escalated beyond all control. Indeed, if not for those very negotiations, the Ephorate might have given in to Swift Blade’s proposal for war. If the earth pony had been slain, that hope was now ashes. “By whom? For what cause?” If e’en the thinnest thread tied his killer to Celestia...
“I think it matters little who performed the crime and why ‘twas done.” There was a bitterness to the words that I was not accustomed to hearing from my daughter. “E’en if there were not the slightest evidence to support it, many would lay the responsibility for it before Celestia.”
To my dismay, I could not deny that she was right. Commander Celestia was so little trusted by the Ephorate that the mere existence of the crime would be enough to convict her in their eyes. Her enemies in Cloudsdale would certainly be quick to ensure that all others saw it in the worst possible light. “How long do we have before ‘tis common knowledge?”
“Not long, if they are not already aware of it,” Gale answered grimly. “News of this magnitude is hardly the sort of thing that can be learned more quickly through agents than by simply going to the agora and listening to the news of the day.”
I had feared as much. “Then there is little we can do beyond move as swiftly as possible, and hope that will be enough. If—neigh, I fear that if is no longer the proper word. When the Ephorate declares war upon Unicornia, ‘twill be far more difficult to effect our departure.”
My daughter gave a single sharp nod. “I shall give the orders at once, Mother. However, we should make ready for the possibility that the other clans might attempt to stop our departure.”
“Let us hope it does not come to that.” ‘Twas perhaps foolish of me to shy from bloodshed when I would shortly face the rest of Pegasopolis from across the battlefield, but I would prefer that my flight from Cloudsdale be bloodless. Let some other hoof be the first to shed pony blood in this matter.
Fate did not seem inclined to accommodate my desires. We were near to done with our accelerated preparations to fly from Cloudsdale when one of my clan informed me that Swift Blade and Steel Striker were marching on the compound, accompanied by a combined force from their clans. ‘Twas a thing I could not ignore as I had the Ephorate’s summons, so my last, best hope was to meet with them and somehow dissuade them from any action that would foil my plans. I did not think it likely I would succeed in the endeavour; Swift and Steel were not fools, and likely already suspected my intent. Still, e’en the slimmest hope of success should be pursued over resigned acceptance of failure. If nothing else, words might delay them and allow my clan more time to prepare.
Gale and I went out to greet them, accompanied by a force of my own clanponies. I found myself looking to their combat readiness far more than ‘twould be the norm for a simple honor guard.
As we approached, whatever slim hope I might have had that my intentions were unknown faded as soon as I noted the grim countenances of Swift and Steel. There was a tension to them when they noted my approach, the unconscious tightening of muscles and readying of nerves that any warrior would know. ‘Twas a common reaction when facing an enemy. The thought that ‘twas my presence which prompted them to react so was most unsettling. They did not greet me as a fellow ephor, but as a foe with whom they would shortly do battle.
Before Swift Blade could begin another of his attempts at rhetoric, Steel cut to the heart of the matter with his usual bluntness. “Is it peace, Shadow?”
After a moment’s thought, I opted to provide him with the truth. “I pray that it will be, but I do not think it likely. ‘Twould seem that the differences which have arisen in Equestria will not be solved with mere words and debate. You ask if there is still peace between us. I in turn ask you: is Celestia the rightful Commander of Pegasopolis?”
“She is not,” Steel answered simply.
“Celestia of Unicornia was deposed by the Ephorate for her numerous crimes and incompetencies,” Swift Blade declared. “Her removal was done in accordance with the ancient laws first set into place by Lyequinegus herself, and yet you have continued to deny her removal in defiance of reason and custom. Now, by her actions with the earth ponies, she has revealed her true colors. I name her a tyrant and murderer, and call upon you to renounce your loyalty to her or be branded a servant of a would-be usurper of the Commanderate of Pegasopolis.”
“I will not renounce our rightful Commander.” I growled, taking a menacing step forward. “I would further advise you to mind your words, lest I find that I have been given cause to demand the satisfaction of juris ungula .”
Swift withdrew by half a step at my words, but was not cowed for more than the briefest of moments. “So, you would resort to threats of violence now in the name of your Sun Tyrant? How very like your mistress you are.”
He might have spoken further had Steel not placed a restraining hoof on his shoulder. Considering the relative size of the two stallions—Steel being one of the largest and most thickly-built stallions in Pegasopolis, whilst Swift was relatively short and unimposing, the hoof proved ample restraint. Once more, Steel’s words cut directly to the heart of the matter. “Heard you plan to leave. I do not think we can allow it.”
Gale let out an angry hiss when Steel confirmed his knowledge of my plans, whispering to me under my breath, “I warned thee, Mother, that Dusk would betray our plans if thou didst release him.”
“I think if ‘twere Dusk’s doing, the Chargers would be the clan present before us, not the Strikers and Blades,” I corrected her. I thought it more likely that word of our impending departure had reached them through my own clan. Sergeant Stalwart could not have been the only one to grasp my plans and speak with his family on the matter. If but a single wife, husband, or lover decided to have words with the paterfamilias after the conversation...
To my surprise, Swift Blade spoke to the members of my honor guard directly. “Ponies of Clan Kicker. Your materfamilias intends to lead you on a course of treason ‘gainst Pegasopolis itself, and the abandonment of your homes. Will you stand with her?”
Gale stepped forward, defiantly meeting Swift’s eyes. “No Kicker would side against their own clan and mater simply because of the word of an outsider.” I was heartened when my clanponies rumbled in agreement with her remark. “Your accusations roll off a forked tongue, Ephor. Leave this place, and leave us to our business. If you would look to the good of Pegasopolis, I would advise beginning with yourself, for ‘tis your own deficiencies which do so weaken it.”
Swift directed a vaguely contemptuous look towards my daughter. “Bold words, especially for a pony of thy circumstances. So be it then; if the clan stands behind a traitor, then they are traitors all.”
“Treason,” I countered, “is far more a matter of position than morality. I name you a traitor to your rightful Commander, and you name me a traitor to the new government you have formed in the aftermath of your coup. I suppose the matter must be resolved in blood and steel, unless you would face me now in single combat.” I stepped forward and lightly struck him across the face. “You name me traitor? I dispute your words, and challenge you, here and now to juris ungula . Only your heartsblood will satisfy my honor.”
A duel to the death with Swift Blade was not a move I’d considered beforehoof, but now I saw much potential in it. The match would distract all from my clan’s actions, and in striking Swift Blade down I would remove one of the strongest advocates for war. It might even be possible that between removing him and the prestige of a victorious duel, I could salvage some hope of peace ‘tween the ephors and Celestia. ‘Twas a thin hope, but not an impossible one.
Swift Blade considered me for several long moments, one hoof coming up to rub at his bloodied muzzle. After several moments, he reluctantly ducked his head and spoke. “I apologize for the offense my words have given, and withdraw them.” For all his faults, Swift Blade was no fool. He knew that he was unlikely to emerge the victor in a duel ‘tween us. I had hoped that his pride might yet push him to accept the challenge, especially before so many witnesses, but ‘twould seem such was not the case. Wounded pride and loss of face are painful, but heal far more quickly than a mortal blow.
Still, I would leverage my temporary advantage for all that I could. “If thou art too much a coward to face me, then leave my sight along with thy clan.” The insulting casualness of my remark was fully intended, much like twisting the blade after striking a blow. “I would not have my sight disturbed by one who has discarded all honor.”
The Blade clanponies tensed at my words, but ‘twould seem I had at least succeeded in cowing Swift for the moment. For all his skill in politics, his indifferent skill as a warrior had always been a telling weakness. He looked to his clan, and they reluctantly withdrew. “The matter is not yet ended, Shadow.” His parting words rang hollow in the wake of his defeat. Now that he’d been publicly forced to withdraw his words, he could no longer directly challenge me on the matter without diminishing himself e’en further in the eyes of Pegasopolis.
“Well played,” Steel rumbled, offering me a faint nod. “He is correct, though. The Ephorate will meet on the matter. Next time, Bright will be here. Face her in juris if you wish.”
“A small victory is still a victory.” I looked to him for a moment, and then swallowed my own pride and made a personal plea. “In the name of my departed father, Clay Striker, could you not stand aside in this one matter? Grant my clan the right to leave this place without bloodshed, if only for the bond of blood we share.”
Steel reluctantly shook his head. “Would that I could do so, but I cannot. Too dangerous to let you leave. You know us, know how we think. Your clan’s strong enough to cause problems. We let you leave, others will want to. Some share your opinion on Celestia. Few, but enough that an example must be made.”
Though I was heartened by the news that I was not the only mare in all Pegasopolis who still held loyalty to the true Commander, I did not allow it to distract me from the larger matters at hoof. Though I had not expected Steel to stand aside and allow my clan to leave with no further difficulty, it still saddened me to hear it. “So be it then. If you will not stand aside, I shall force my way through.”
“Possible,” Steel grunted. “If your clan agrees.”
Something in the way he said those words made me wary of him. There was a certainty to his tone: he did not merely suspect that I might face dissent within my own ranks, he had reason to think it likely. ‘Twas at that point that another, far more distressing possible explanation for the Ephorate’s prescience sprang to my mind. Mayhaps my intentions were not betrayed by the lover or family of a Kicker, but by one of my own clan. ‘Twas an unpleasant prospect, but I knew that not all agreed with my decision.
I found myself once more curious of Steel’s intentions. Had he meant those words as a taunt, or a warning? Though most would not think it of such a blunt and laconic stallion, his shortness could often make him quite cryptic. ‘Twas not an easy thing to take his measure when he offered those who spoke with him so little to seize upon.
Puzzling through his intentions would have to wait for another day, though. For now, I faced the pressing concerns of my clan. There was nothing for it but to inform them of my intentions, and hope that would stand with me. What hopes I had for secrecy were long past—e’en if none of my honor guard spoke of Swift and Steel’s accusations, they would shortly return with the other ephors and no doubt be quick to repeat their words. Better that I reveal the news myself. “Gale, upon our return to the compound assemble the clan in the training yard. It is time I had words with them.”
Steel directed a curious glance towards me. “Can’t let you leave Pegasopolis without a fight.”
“I see little to be gained for either of us in battle,” I answered him. “At least, not at present. My clan must prepare to depart, and thy clan lacks the numbers to stop mine alone. (4) That is why you came in the company of Swift Blade, is it not? And are your interests not best served by abiding until the other Ephors arrived?”
4: While most records indicate that the Strikers and Kickers were more or less equal in size, conventional military wisdom says that stopping an opponent from withdrawing in good order requires either superior numbers or favorable terrain. The open skies of Cloudsdale, which gave Shadow the option of moving in any direction she wished, favored her forces over Steel’s. While he could certainly make her withdrawal difficult and inflict casualties, he would have a hard time stopping her completely.
Steel regarded me for several moments, then gave a slight nod. “We will abide, then.”
“And I shall see to my clan.” I turned my back on him and made my way back to the clanhold, accompanied by my honor guard. I was thankful that, for the moment, we had avoided open battle with Steel. While we both saw our duties, ‘twould seem neither of us was eager to take matters to the point of bloodshed. I much preferred speaking to my assembled clan over doing battle with a pony who until recently I would have named as friend and ally.
Thankfully, the gathering of the clan proceeded quickly. Many of their number had already gathered ‘pon the walls to bear witness to the heated words that passed ‘tween myself and the other ephors, and of those who had not stopped to watch the spectacle most were going about their assigned duties to prepare for our departure. I had scarce decided what I would say to my clan before they all stood before me, awaiting my words.
I found a suitable position atop the walls on the clanhold, and began. “Ponies of my clan! Brothers, Sisters, Cousins! Nephews, Nieces, Aunts and Uncles! Daughters and Sons, Fathers and Mothers! Hear my words!
“I am sure you have all heard the talk about Pegasopolis, claiming that we have broken ranks with the Ephorate on the matter of Commander Celestia. I say to you now that these rumors are true! The Ephorate has, through the misuse of ancient and long-forgotten laws, wrongfully removed our Commander from her post. Though I strongly disapproved of this measure, I remained loyal to the government out of a sense of duty and obligation.
“How did the Ephorate answer my actions? With lies and betrayal! With the attempted murder of my own father in the streets of Pegasopolis! E’en then, I might have continued to offer them my hoof in friendship, were it not for the latest travesty perpetrated by the usurpers! Not content with removing Celestia from the post of Commander, they now seek needless war with her to remove her from the leadership of the earth ponies, and perhaps all Equestria. Though I am a loyal daughter of Pegasopolis, this travesty cannot go unanswered.
“For these reasons, I have determined that our clan must depart forthwith from the city of Cloudsdale, and make for the Commander’s current capital in Canterlot. From there, we will restore Celestia to her rightful post by whatever means prove necessary. Though I hope that we might yet find a peaceful solution to this matter, prudence demands that I gird myself and my clan for war. I do not lightly lay this course of action, nor ask thee to uproot thyselves from our ancient home on a whim. Yet the dark hour is upon us, and the die is cast. Come.”
The clan met my words with the stoic acceptance I’d hoped to see, and for a few fleeting moments I dared to hope that they would all stand with me. That foolish hope was then dashed when a voice rang up in protest. “Ponies of Clan Kicker! Do not do this!”
The words themselves were no great surprise, but the identity of their speaker cut me to the core.
My father stepped forward, his face a picture of grim resignation. “Shadow, thou hast passed beyond the pale. I cannot allow this ... this madness to continue any further. As thy father, I beg of thee to stay this course here and now.”
I glared down at my father and defiantly shook my head, realizing afterwards that the gesture was likely wasted on him. “My course is set, and I will not be dissuaded from it by any. Not even by thee, my father. For the good of the clan, Pegasopolis, and all Equestria, we must make our stand here.”
“Thou wouldst blacken the name of Clan Kicker for all eternity in the annals of history!” Father shouted. “A thousand years hence, when ponies speak of the Kickers they will say that we were blackguards and betrayers, lead into infamy by a madmare. That is the legacy thou wouldst leave our descendants!”
“Neigh!” I returned, the heat rising in my voice as my choler grew. “I would have history remember that when all the other clans turned ‘gainst their rightful Commander, the Kickers stayed true to Celestia, and led the effort to restore her. I would have the name Kicker be synonymous with duty and devotion to our Commander.”
When Father answered me, there was a quiet fear in his voice that I’d not heard since Father Clay’s passing. “Shadow, I beg of thee, if thou hast any love for me within thy heart, do not do this. Please.”
For a brief moment my resolve shook at his plea, but only a moment. “My father taught me to do that which I believed to be right in my heart, regardless of whosoever stood against me. That if all the world said that I should allow an evil to pass unremarked, ‘twas my duty to stand against the world itself and say ‘neigh, thou art wrong.’ Those were words of great wisdom, and I will heed them now.”
Father’s head hung low, and let loose a heavy sigh. “So be it, then.” He drew in several breaths, then removed a scroll from within his armor, opened it, and declared. “By the authority of the Ephorate of Pegasopolis, I hereby strip thee of the titles of ephor and materfamilias, and assume those duties for myself until such—”
“You do not have the right! ” Gale roared at him, charging forward and ripping the scroll from his grasp.
“The right be damned, I have the need!” Father returned just as heatedly. “I will not allow anypony, not even the daughter I love more than life itself, to bring my clan to ruin and damnation.”
The shouting match between my father and daughter quickly gained an undercurrent as my clanponies began murmuring ‘mongst themselves. Already, the consensus I’d hoped to see from my clan seemed to be crumbling in the face of Father’s challenge. I needed to put an end to the matter, and quickly.
“Gale!” My voice rang with all the force and authority I normally reserve for the battlefield. “Father has had a long and difficult day, and is still recovering from his recent injuries at the hooves of one of the Ephorate’s catspaws. I bid thee return him to his quarters at once, that he might rest both body and mind.” Though ‘twas perhaps cruel to imply that Father’s words were the product of an old and feeble mind, ‘twas one of the only ways I could lessen their impact ‘pon the clan.
Father’s pride could not accept my words. “I am no dotard, thou vain, ungrateful whelp! ”
“Aye, a dotard would have more sense than thee!” Gale once more shouted at him.
“Stay the flapping of thy tongue!” Father roared as he smote Gale across the cheek.
The sight of my daughter being struck finally drove me to act, flying to the scene and striking Father with sufficient force to knock him from his hooves, sending him sliding more than a ponylength across the clouds before his momentum faded. “ENOUGH! ” I looked to my daughter, and after ensuring that she’d suffered no more than a bloodied lip, I whirled upon my father. “You have gone too far, sir! Challenge me for leadership of the clan or recant thy words.”
“A challenge?” Father spat contemptuously, his words producing a faint crimson spray as they left his bloodied mouth. “A blind, old stallion facing a mare in her prime? I think not. However, I do not recant my words, for they are nothing but the truth.”
“Then I have no further choice in the matter.” I stepped forward, put a hoof on Cyclone’s armor and roughly tore the clan insignia from it. “I strip from thee the name and honors of the Clan Kicker. I cast thee from my clanhold and from my heart. May thy name be stricken from the clan’s rolls and records, and from the minds of all those who once knew and loved thee.” I reached forward and ripped off his helm and wing-blades. “May thy very memory be damned for all eternity. Be gone from this place, and never return, not even in death.”
If his blindness did not make such all but impossible, I suspect Cyclone would have tried to strip my insignia as I had his. Since he could not, he instead struck at me with words. “I am ashamed by the fact that I once named you my daughter. That you are now the only surviving piece of my beloved husband is the greatest cruelty imaginable.”
“Begone,” I snarled, “whilst I still allow thee to leave in peace.”
Cyclone slowly made his way to the exit, but paused before he exited the compound. “If any would stand with Pegasopolis and with me,” he announced, “let them do so now.“
To my immense relief, the vast bulk of the Kicker clan did not accept his offer. To my eternal sorrow, he did not leave the compound alone.
I stared after him for some time, before forcing myself to put the matter from my mind and return to the greater tasks before me. I could ill afford to waste time mourning the loss of the parental bond when the duties of clan leadership stood before me. I buried all the pain and sorrow deep within my heart, and turned back to my clan. “Quickly! We’ve much to do, and little time to see it done.” The clan returned to their tasks, but there was a slowness to their movements that had not been present before. ‘Twas plain to see that Cyclone’s departure had struck a blow to our clan’s spirits.
Gale moved to my side, placing a single hoof ‘pon my shoulder. “Mother...” She said nothing more, but her presence at my side standing supportively ‘gainst me spoke volumes.
I only allowed her to offer me a few moments’ comfort before parting from her. “Now is not the time, Gale. The clan’s spirit would be ill-served by seeing me wailing and gnashing my teeth over the departure of a traitor to our cause. We must harden our hearts, and make ready for war. We do not have the time or the right to indulge in the luxury of mourning.”
Within an hour, my clan was ready to leave Cloudsdale. Though my heart grew heavy with doubt as the moment neared, I did not allow such thoughts to enter my mind or show ‘pon my face. If the clan saw my resolve waver, even for a moment, all would be lost.
The ephors met me at the entrance of my compound, each accompanied by the customary honor guard. To my immense distaste, Cyclone was now amongst their number. ‘Twould seem that they had wasted no time in confirming him as my replacement, at least for the moment. ‘Twas most unusual for a member of the Gerousia to leave retirement, but not unprecedented. His own experience in the Ephorate no doubt made him an ideal choice for their current circumstances, though his blindness would be an impediment if he thought to lead an army into battle.
I turned my eyes and thoughts from him, and towards the others. I saw little reason to concern myself with Swift or Steel; their positions were already known to me. Neigh, ‘twas with Rightly and Bright that the matter now rested, so they received the majority of my attention. Rightly’s countenance was one of resignation and sorrow, no doubt as pained by our parting as I was, though he did a poorer job of hiding it. (5) Bright’s expression proved far harder to decipher, though I believed I detected a note of pondering curiosity, as though she had uncovered a particularly intriguing mystery.
5: Or, perhaps more likely, he wasn’t trying to hide his feelings the way Shadow was, since he wouldn’t need to worry about his clan abandoning him at the first sign of perceived weakness.
I stepped forward, meeting their gazes challengingly. “I intend to leave Pegasopolis, until such time as Commander Celestia is restored to her rightful place. If the Ephorate will not allow it, then I shall leave by main force.” I looked over the assembled ranks of the other clans, drawn up around my compound in a rough battle line. “We’ve all the sky to maneuver in, you cannot stop us all from flying. We will escape, and if you try to stop us you will fail and see many of your warriors fall in the process.”
Rightly gazed at me for several long moments, then offered a single mournful shake of his head. “There is no need for such bravado, Shadow. The Ephorate has held a vote, and we’ve decided that your clan will be allowed to leave Cloudsdale in peace.”
“Verily?” I could scarce credit my own ears. Though the news was undeniably heartening, it seemed far too generous a concession. One should always be wary of the generosity of thine enemies.
“Verily,” Swift confirmed, a dark glower on his face. “We did not reach consensus on the matter, but the majority feels that you should be allowed to depart.”
Rightly offered a single nod. “As we have not yet entered a state of war with Unicornia, thou art fully within thy rights as materfamilias to remove thy clan from the city and go wheresoever thou doth wish.” His voice dropped, and he spoke to me in confidence. “I do not wish to do battle with thee, Shadow. Not today, nor on any day hence.”
“Then when war comes, let us pray that we never meet one another on the field,” I answered him. “For if I must choose ‘tween my duty to the Commander and what I wish for in my heart...”
“That is a cruel choice indeed,” Rightly finished grimly. “I pray, for both our sakes, that thou art never forced to make it.” He fell silent for a moment, looking back to Cyclone. “Thy father has already given his pledge that no kinsblood shall be—”
“My father is dead,” I growled, struggling to contain my fury.
Rightly regarded me for a long moment, then gave a sad shake of his head. “As is thy wish. Regardless, Cyclone Kicker has given his pledge that he and those who follow him will not do battle with their kin. I offer my own pledge to thee. Though our clans may come into conflict, I will not seek thee on the field, nor allow any under my command to do violence to thee.”
“For that, I offer my thanks.” I nearly returned his words, but for all that my heart wished to do so my mind cautioned me against it. Though e’en now I loved him, he was the false commander of rebel forces of Pegasopolis. ‘Twould be most foolish to offer him refuge or safety from all under my command when his defeat could well end the war. Perhaps that was the greatest difference ‘tween us: while our hearts and minds were as one, he listened to his heart in this matter, whilst I could not allow myself that indulgence.
As I parted company from Rightly, my attention turned to last of the three ponies who had voted to spare my clan from battle. Though Rightly’s sentimentality was unsurprising and Cyclone’s vote on the matter was to be expected even though he’d been cast out of the clan for his betrayal, I had not expected that Bright would offer me the chance to leave unmolested.
In answer to my unspoken question, Bright offered a tight smile. “You might have made my son a prisoner, and demanded your clan’s release in return for his. Because of that, I will grant freely what you could have taken by force if you were less honorable.” Her smile faded to a tight grimace, as though weighing the vulnerabilities of a target before her lance. “However, I will not make the same promise that my sister’s husband has offered. When war comes, I will best you in honorable combat if we should meet on the field, and bring you back to Pegasopolis in chains.”
“Or mayhaps I shall bring thee before Commander Celestia so bound.” I returned, meeting her gaze with my own. “I suppose we shall see a resolution to the matter soon enough.”
“Indeed we shall,” Bright agreed, an almost eager smile on her face. (6)
6: And thus, Shadow and Bright prove that comparing the size of their lances is not an activity exclusive to stallions.
Rightly stepped forward and pointedly cleared his throat. “Before thy departure, Shadow, I would ask one final boon of thee.” One of his honor guard produced a scroll, which he then passed to me. “A message to Celestia, from the Ephorate. Wouldst thou deliver it into her hooves?”
“I will.” I took the offered scroll and passed it on to one of my own subordinates. “I pray that once this storm has passed, we might once more stand together as friends and comrades.”
“As do we all,” Steel rumbled. “But when next we meet, ‘twill be as enemies.”
I offered him a single sharp nod. “E’en between foes, there can be honor. As the Ephorate has asked a boon of me, I would ask one of it in turn. Final words to Pegasopolis.”
The Ephorate conferred briefly, and Rightly presented their conclusion. “Say what thou wilt, but do not speak too far out of turn. If thou dost provide cause for juris ungula , thou shalt face it.”
“Noted.” I turned to the force of ponies surrounding the clanhold, and found a suitable position from which I might address them. “Warriors of Pegasopolis! I leave you now, not as a coward fleeing in the night, but as a proud warrior going to serve her commander. The only commander I shall ever recognize: Celestia. Though my clan stands firm behind me, Commander Celestia would welcome all who would stand in solidarity with her in the coming struggle. If you love Celestia as I do, stand with me now, and join me in Canterlot.”
I had hoped that my words might sway the crowd, but I am not a particularly gifted speaker. I am competent in the arts of rhetoric, but crowds do not swoon at my words or speak admiringly of my presence. Only a few ponies stepped forward from the ranks, and those I saw clearly all shared strong bonds of family or friendship with my own clan. Still, even one more pony aligned to my cause was a worthy victory.
As I turned to depart, I noted Sergeant Stalwart standing stiffly amongst my honor guard, his eyes locked upon a mare within Rightly’s. After a moment’s reflection, I recognized her as Sierra Doo, his wife. Though no words passed between them, none were needed. Each stood with their own clan, and silently begged the other to break ranks. Neither moved.
I felt an urge to seek out Rightly, and speak those words of love and devotion I’d kept near to my heart for so long. ‘Twas far too late for such a thing, though. All it would do now is further the pain of our parting e’en more. I gently placed a single hoof upon Stalwart’s shoulder. “Sergeant. It is time.”
Stalwart reluctantly tore his eyes away from his wife. “Yes, materfamilias.”
We turned our backs on Cloudsdale, and took wing for Canterlot.
The flight to Canterlot occurred in grim silence. My thoughts, and likely those of all the rest of my clan, lingered upon all that we’d left behind in Cloudsdale. Bonds of friendship and family severed. Lovers left behind, or blossoming love crushed ‘neath the burden of duty and the tides of war. ‘Twas a cruel thing.
Damn the Ephorate for forcing my hoof. Damn Cyclone for splitting my clan and sundering my family. Damn Apple Tree for dying and ending the last hope of peace. Damn Celestia for being blind to her errors until ‘twas too late to correct them. And damn me for standing by her side e’en when all Pegasopolis told me ‘twas madness to do so.
To think this all began with a single filly and her cruel fool of a brother. That the chain of events which had shattered all Equestria and would soon plunge us into civil war could all stem from a single stupid decision made by a single stallion who’d only barely left colthood...
Though we arrived at Canterlot in the dead of the night, the Commander’s royal guard turned out in force to greet us. ‘Twas fortunate that Gale sent word ahead by way of young Midnight to expect our arrival, else we might have met a more hostile reception. Given the current tensions, a large party of armed pegasi would not have received a friendly welcoming in Unicornia.
Immediately upon my arrival, I was escorted to Commander Celestia’s throne room. The lateness of the hour spared us from enduring the presence of too many nobles and courtiers, but not all of them. Though the Commander sat tall and proud on her throne, I could not fail to note the air of weariness that surrounded her. ‘Twas not the sort of exhaustion that could merely be explained away by the late hour at which we arrived, or other such mundane causes. Neigh, the slump in her shoulders and resignation in her eyes bespoke a weariness not of the body, but of the spirit. The burden of leadership lay heavily upon her, and I knew my own arrival and the news I bore would only worsen that.
Despite her worn state, she rose from her throne to greet me with a tired smile. “SHADOW OF THE CLAN KICKER, E’EN IN THESE DARK TIMES, IT WARMS MY HEART TO SEE THEE ONCE MORE. ”
Ah. I had forgotten that Unicornian court protocol demanded that she deafen everypony who spoke with her in public. I would need to take measures to address that. I saluted my commander, ignoring the disapproving scowls of those nobles who no doubt expected to see me grovel like a dog before her in the Unicornian fashion. Though I might currently be in exile from Pegasopolis pending my commander’s restoration, I was yet a warrior of Pegasopolis and intended to conduct myself as such. “Commander, there is much to discuss and little time in which to say it. Might we speak in privacy?”
“BUT OF COURSE, MY FAITHFUL CHAMPION . ” She turned to the nobles. “LEAVE US. ” As soon as the last of the nobles departed the room, Commander Celestia cleared her throat, then conjured a glass of water and sipped at it. When she spoke once more, her volume was thankfully reduced to ordinary levels. “Hello, Shadow. As I said, I am glad to see thee once more, though I wish ‘twere in better circumstances. I hope thou art well?”
“As well as can be in these times,” I answered her. “I come bearing news from the Ephorate, and request for my own clan. Our loyalty to you has turned all Cloudsdale against us, and we have fled the city to come hence. Will you offer my clan sanctuary?”
Now that her unicorn subjects had left the room, Commander Celestia felt no need to act the part of monarch, and stepped down from her throne to approach me. Her voice no longer rang with the commanding tones of a queen, but rather the soft-spoken gentleness of a mare who saw another’s pain and wished to soothe it. “Shadow, thou and all thy clan are welcome in Canterlot until the end of my days. So long as I sit upon the throne of Unicornia, thou shalt always have a place here.”
“My thanks, Commander.” ‘Twas a struggle to maintain my composure, but I succeeded. I could well understand the sense of weariness which surrounded her; after all that had passed I was sorely tempted to seek my own bed and linger there for several days.
It seemed cruel, but duty required that I add more to her burdens. “As I said, I have news of the gravest import from the Ephorate.” I produced the scroll Rightly had provided me prior to my departure from Cloudsdale. “I would inform you that this decision was rendered after the Ephorate stripped me of my place in their ranks.”
Celestia took the scroll in her magic, opening it and reading the contents quickly. When she finished, for a moment I thought she might swoon as her emotions overcame her, but she maintained her composure. When she spoke, her voice held all the queenly dignity and composure I had come to expect from her, yet I noted an undercurrent of pain and grief coloring her words. “My thanks to thee for doing thy duty, Shadow. My majordomo will see to thy clan’s accommodations until we can find something more suitable for them. I would ask that thou abidest in the palace as my guest, and that somepony inform my vizier, archmagus, and other high officials that I must speak with them at once.”
She met my eyes, and I saw unshed tears within hers. “We must make ready for war.”
Gathering Shadows: Epilogue
While I feel that ending Shadow’s narration with the Pegasopolan declaration of war on Unicornia makes for a natural break point in the overall narrative, there is one final matter that I feel should be included to properly close things out.
I would like to thank Dusty Scrolls of the Royal Cloudsdale Archives for all her hard work in helping me find the minutes of the Ephorate’s meetings. After some consideration, I have decided to simply present the records of their conversation as it is written, rather than adapting it into a proper narrative. I would like to think I’m a passable editor, but trying to turn a bunch of dry meeting notes into a gripping piece of writing is probably more than I can manage, especially since I would have to wildly speculate about some very important things like the body language of all the ponies involved.
In the interests of brevity, I have only included a small passage from the Ephorate’s meeting after Shadow’s departure. The minutia of their plans for the coming war might be of great interest to a military historian, but would just bog down this particular account.
Rightly Doo: ‘Tis agreed that Manehatten shall be the first objective of our campaign?
Bright Charger: Aye. We must liberate the earth ponies before all else. With luck, once they have shaken off Celestia’s yoke she will grasp the weakness of her position and sue for peace.
Steel Striker: Optimistic. But aye, Manehatten.
Cyclone Kicker: Aye.
Swift Blade: Aye.
Rightly Doo: Very well then. Have we any other business to attend before we return to our clans and begin making ready for battle?
Cyclone Kicker: There is one matter. We have not yet confirmed who holds the post of commander.
Bright Charger: A mere formality. Rightly has been a fine acting commander, and I see no reason not to convey the title upon him in full.
Steel Striker: Formalities matter.
Rightly Doo: ‘Twould be best to officially put the matter to rest. Before we vote, does anypony wish to suggest an alternate candidate for the post? The only other pony named as a candidate when I was made acting commander is no longer available for the post.
Swift Blade: I have a candidate in mind, though she is something of an unusual choice.
Bright Charger: How intriguing. Do you intend to actually share her identity with us, or will you simply offer cryptic statements for us to speculate upon?
Swift Blade: My proposal is somewhat unique in that she is not capable of acting as Commander, and thus Rightly would be required to remain as acting Commander for the moment. However, as a former Commander of Pegasopolis she is eminently qualified, and I believe there would be many other advantages to naming Luna as Commander in absentia .
Steel Striker: Nightmare Moon?
Swift Blade: By Celestia’s word, aye. But history is written by the victors. Who here has borne witness to their battle? We have only Celestia’s word that her sister fell into darkness, and Celestia’s own actions in recent days have shown that her word is not to be trusted.
Cyclone Kicker: It is possible that our accounts of Luna’s downfall do not reflect what actually occurred. Still, that is mere speculation.
Swift Blade: Regardless, there are numerous practical benefits to naming Luna as our commander. It elevates our cause beyond that of a mere revolt against Celestia. In the eyes of Equestria and the world, we would go from malcontents seeking to preserve our own privileges to liberators valiantly struggling to restore our rightful ruler and o’erthrow an usurper. ‘Twould also serve to make our cause wider than a mere Pegasopolan crusade. With all respect, what do the earth ponies or unicorns care for Rightly Doo? I cannot imagine his name is e’en known to them. Luna, however, is known by ponies of all the tribes, and has her supporters amongst them all. What better banner to carry when we march into Manehatten than that of Luna, who freed the city from griffon occupation?
Cyclone Kicker: Supporters. A kind word for mad cultists and warlocks.
Steel Striker: Enemies of Celestia. Like us.
Rightly Doo: We will not traffic with such individuals. E’en if we both stand to gain from Celestia’s removal, I will not demean our cause by aligning it with practitioners of the forbidden arts.
Swift Blade: But of course not, Rightly. However, I would point out that ‘warlock’ and ‘cultist’ are very useful titles to bestow upon one’s enemies.
Rightly Doo: Nonetheless, we must uphold not only the reality of honor, but the appearance of it as well. Whatever gains we might make from naming a more prestigious commander would be lost if ‘twas thought we made common cause with enemies of all decency. Just as I would not send emissaries to the High King of Griffonia, the Zebrican Emperor, or the Swarms of Chrysalis, so I will not make common cause with warlocks.
Swift Blade: E’en those who we have reason to believe are falsely accused of the crime?
Cyclone Kicker: We hardly have the time and resources to investigate every single warlock’s claim that they are mere political opponents of Celestia accused of foul acts to blacken their name. I would rather turn away a dozen innocents than allow one viper into our midsts.
Bright Charger: Agreed. Our situation is not so desperate that we must seek unsavory allies to bolster our strength.
Swift Blade: Very well then. However, we have not yet spoken on the naming of Luna as commander.
Bright Charger: I see no need for it. If Rightly is to exercise the powers and duties of commander, he should hold the title as well.
Steel Striker: Politics. Could be useful.
Cyclone Kicker: Though I am wary of her reputation, Luna’s name is known far and wide. As Swift said, by attaching her name to our cause we make it plain that we fight for the good of all Equestria, not merely the pegasi. However, it would be of the utmost importance that we maintain our honor, for e’en a single foul act would quickly blacken our name.
Rightly Doo: And if Celestia did not lie? If Luna did indeed go mad, and was rightfully stripped of her position and powers?
Swift Blade: Then she is still useful as a symbol. I cannot imagine she is likely to be easily returned from whatever imprisonment or exile Celestia has condemned her too. ‘Tis e’en possible that Luna is a century dead, and Celestia’s claims of exile and imprisonment merely serve to cover her kinslaying. Such things have little bearing on her usefulness as a rallying point to our cause.
Steel Striker: Well reasoned.
Rightly Doo: I am uncertain of the wisdom of this course. Bright, Cyclone? I would have your thoughts on the matter too.
Bright Charger: She acts the part of a tyrant now, and given that, it is certainly possible that she acted the same in regards to her sister. Luna’s banishment made her sole ruler of Equestria, and now she works to consolidate that authority. Still, I am uncertain. I defer my vote to thee, Rightly.
Cyclone Kicker: Speculation on what occurred a century ago does not change the fact that Luna’s name and reputation are now fouled. And our own would quickly be fouled by proximity.
Swift Blade: You do the common ponies of Equestria too little credit, sir. Surely they can follow the same line of reasoning that we have, once the matter is explained to them. Reputations and opinions are easily shifted once lies are cast aside and the light of truth shown.
Rightly Doo: So be it then. My vote, and Bright’s, are cast in favor. We hereby name Luna as Commander-in-Absentia of Pegasopolis.
Bright Charger: Aye.
Steel Striker: Aye.
Cyclone Kicker: Aye.
Swift Blade: Aye.
I looked over the old fortress, my eyes carefully sweeping over the walls and buildings within. I had only a passing familiarity with the fundamentals of such fortifications; walls did little to deter the warriors of Pegasopolis. Never before had I considered that at some point, I might need to hold such a structure ‘gainst an assault by my own kind.
I am Shadow Kicker, materfamilias of the clan Kicker, and for love of the true Commander of Pegasopolis, I have become a traitor to my own kind.
Many of my clan and some from outside it had accompanied me in our departure from our cloudborne homes, but far too many could not bring themselves to raise their weapons ‘gainst their fellow pegasi. Families were sundered, and old bonds of blood and friendship shattered. Many whom I once named as my closest allies would shortly seek my heartsblood ‘pon the field battle. Possibly e’en my own kin. Though I had cast them from the ranks of the Kickers and branded them Cumuli, I was yet troubled by the fact that I might shed their blood. (1)
1: Full members of a clan who had been cast out by their clan were traditionally branded with the name of “ Cumulus ” as a mark of shame. Unsurprisingly, Shadow and her followers were also branded as Cumuli by those Kickers who remained in Pegasopolis, though the declaration was widely ignored even within Pegasopolis, as Cyclone’s portion of the clan was significantly smaller than Shadow’s. (Most historians estimate 75-80% of the clan sided with Shadow.)
Yet for the moment, the spectre of war was a distant trouble. Though I could hardly forget the events that brought me to the unicorn city of Canterlot, ‘twould be some days yet before battle was joined. In Pegasopolis the clans mustered, while the nobles of Unicornia called forth their levies and prepared their retinues. For all the foolish swiftness with which war had begun, armies cannot be assembled at a moment’s notice. Supplies must be gathered, and chains of command and responsibility established. These matters must be seen to with a certain degree of deliberation, else one’s army shall quickly devolve to naught but a heavily-armed mob.
That is not to say that matters were wholly peaceful. While the armies had not yet been properly gathered, civil war offers plentiful opportunities for lesser degrees of violence—especially amongst the earth ponies, where opinion was far more sharply divided on whether to support the rebellion against Commander Celestia. ‘Twould be a gross oversimplification to say that all pegasi (save myself, obviously) supported the rebellion, or that all unicorns were united in support of Celestia, but such was the prevailing opinion ‘mongst the two breeds.
The earth ponies had mustered no armies, in large part because they were too divided to manage the feat. With opinions so firmly split, even the small local militias often fought ‘mongst themselves. There were no strongholds where armies might be gathered, and far too many local conflicts which demanded the attention of those ponies under arms. Militias are, by their nature, concerned with local affairs. No militiapony would abandon their hometown for a distant mustering ground when local threats and enemies yet loomed.
But as I said, the bloodshed was for the moment a distant concern. I had far more pressing worries regarding the status of my clan. For all my loyalty to the Commander, a materfamilias’ first duty must always be to her clan. My kin had shown me far more loyalty than I had dared hope for, and I owed them the same.
The flight from Cloudsdale had deprived our clan of its old hold; we could hardly have broken off a portion of the city and transported it to the skies above Canterlot. As it was, my clan’s ancestral home now lay in the hooves of traitors to the clan, blackguards and usurpers following the stallion who had once been my father. As such, my kin required a new location to name as their home, if only as a temporary measure until Cloudsdale could be reclaimed in Celestia’s name.
Thus, my survey of the old, ruined fortress on the outskirts of Canterlot. There were several such structures, mostly dating back to the old times before Celestia and Luna, when Equestria was a far wilder place. However, even when Manehatten lay in the talons of the griffons, Canterlot lay far from the lines of battle, and centuries of peace had led to neglect of its defenses. Outposts that had once been intended to forewarn of impending attack and forts that should have held the enemy at bay were naught but old monuments to a lost age, slowly torn down by the slow decay of time and craftsponies who plundered the old fortresses for pre-cut stone and whatever else they might make use of.
Now, I had a new purpose in mind for one of those old structures. While fortified walls would avail us nothing ‘gainst an army of pegasi, and if they reached the capital all was likely lost regardless, one of the old fortresses would serve as a passable home to my clan. Certainly a far better option than attempting to house all of my kin within Canterlot. (2)
2: It bears mentioning that Canterlot was a smaller city in Shadow’s time; anypony familiar with modern Canterlot knows that the city has long since grown to envelop the Kicker Compound.
Commander Celestia cleared her throat, calling my attention. “Thinkest thou this site would suit thy clan’s needs, Shadow?”
I surveyed the old fortress once more. As was the case in much of Canterlot, the walls and outbuildings had been made from a mix of limestone and marble. As I understood matters, such were the building materials close at hoof within the city. Mt. Avalon, upon which the city rested, already contained a network of natural caves and tunnels which had been expanded by mining since the city’s founding. Whilst the miners mostly sought gemstones and crystals, their activities also provided a ready supply of stone for all the city’s structures.
The fortress itself was in passable enough condition, but like most of the old structures it had not fared well in the face of neglect. When Commander Celestia, Gale, and I had arrived at the area we’d unintentionally frightened off a group of ponies making off with another portion of the fort’s walls. Judging by the condition of the place, they were far from the first thieves to have struck the place. However, only the outer walls had suffered from the thefts; none had yet been so bold as to disturb the inner buildings. Those remained in serviceable condition.
“The barracks, kitchens, and armory are all intact enough,” Gale opined. “Though the outer wall is in poor condition, I see little reason to concern ourselves with that. ‘Tis not as if a wall is would be of any use to us ‘gainst our current enemies. The size is a good match to our numbers, as well.”
“Our current numbers, aye.” A thoughtful frown crossed my face. “However, ‘tis my hope that those will grow in due time.”
Gale's wings flicked in irritation. “With all respect, Mother, I think we should not let our hopes for the future cloud our current needs. Those who betrayed clan and family are sundered from us, and I do not think it likely they will return to our ranks ere the war is ended. Shall we leave empty seats in our dining halls, in the vain hope that they will repent and return?”
Commander Celestia corrected my daughter. “Hast thy clan not already offered hospitality to all other pegasi who would fight in my name? Do not forget that there are pegasi of the other clans or no clan, who must also have their place.”
“As the Commander says.” Already, some of my clan’s loss in numbers had been made good by the acquisition of fresh bondponies to replace those who’d opted to remain in Cloudsdale. (3) A trend I had every hope would continue as matters progressed. I had made similar offers to those exiles—now named Cumuli by their own clans—who had accompanied me in flying to the true Commander.
3: While the clans of old Pegasopolis were tightly bound by kinship, outside the upper echelons of the clan this did not always mean blood ties. Many of the rank-and-file within the clan were bondponies who held no blood ties to the Kickers, but were bound to the clan by oaths of service and loyalty. Even in peacetime, it was far from unusual for bondponies to transfer their loyalty to a new clan as circumstances dictated, or for clanless warriors to bind themselves to a clan. For all that the modern Kickers take pride in our status as the only loyal clan, it’s worth mentioning that Shadow did a lot of reshuffling of the clan’s membership. There were Kickers who fought under the Lunar flag, and Doos, Strikers, and Chargers who fought for Celestia.
“We’ve visited four of these ruins already, and none of them suited you.” My daughter offered me a mutinous glance, making little effort to hide the irritation in her voice. “All of them seemed capable enough of meeting our needs, with a little adaptation and the services of a few stonemasons.”
“Peace, Gale,” the Commander gently chided her. “This is to be thy home for the war’s duration. Though I pray that time will be short, prudence dictates that thy mother choose on the assumption that ‘twill not be so. Better a few hours’ delay now than being forced to relocate in a month’s time once some flaw in thy current home is uncovered.”
“I am well aware of the reasoning behind it, Commander Celestia.” Though Gale might have been less than properly deferential to me, she was not so foolish as to disrespect Celestia to her face. The annoyance in her tone was carefully moderated, and her posture shifted to one of deference. Well that she did, too—though she be a mare grown, I would not hesitate to reprimand her as I would a filly if she shamed the both of us in front of the Commander. “I apologize for my untoward behavior; I fear that the recent trials my clan has endured made me briefly forget myself.”
Commander Celestia answered her with a patient, forgiving smile. “Fear not, Gale. These times have been difficult for all of us, myself included. I will not take undue offense at a few simple words.”
Gale ducked her head. “My thanks for that, Commander.” However, while her temper had been shackled, my daughter yet suffered the impatience that so commonly afflict the young. “However, I must ask, Mother, how many more sites we must examine ere we are like to find one suitable to your desires. I am sure there are much more productive uses for our time than exploring old ruins.”
I was not in a mood to indulge my daughter on this day. Though she was right that there were other matters to be discussed, she did not yet grasp that I was pursuing those matters at this very time. “Perhaps, then, thou shouldst speed matters along and explore the next location, so that we might conclude this affair more swiftly?”
Gale’s ears fell flat against her skull, her countenance contrite. “As you wish, mother.” Having taken my rebuke to heart, she withdrew to tend her task.
‘Twas a pity that I felt the need to dismiss her, though mayhaps there were advantages to it as well. Gale’s mood had caused her to overlook a single vitally important fact; or mayhaps ‘twas simply that she had not yet adapted her perspective to Canterlot’s realities. While the search for a new clanhold was a matter of importance, I had intended to leave the bulk of it to my subordinates and only personally verify their final choice. However, when Commander Celestia offered to accompany me on the search, and do so absent her usual accompanying courtiers...
The most precious political resource in all of Canterlot, more than money or titles of any kind, was time in privacy with Commander Celestia. There was much to discuss of the war’s handling, and this might be my only chance to speak with her on the matter absent her usual accompanying horde of useless prattling unicorns ere battle was properly joined. Gale had already brought me rumors that her new vizier, Duke Polaris, hoped to command the armies of Equestria in the field. Naturally, I was firmly of the opinion that I would make the better general, having actually commanded soldiers in battle rather than occupying my time growing fat off the labors of better ponies.
Still, the matter must be approached with some level of circumspection. I could not simply demand that Celestia grant me the command. The conversation would need to be carefully guided to the point where it felt like a natural development, and my appointment was the only—
Commander Celestia turned to me, a fey light in her eyes and a trickster’s smile gracing her lips. “Now that we are alone, I believe ‘tis thy wish to discuss the question of who will lead Equestria’s armies in the field, yes?”
Commander Celestia’s curious sense of humor could be most vexing.
Regardless of the disruption to my initial plans, I had little choice but to press forward in the matter. Doubtless I should have anticipated that she would have guessed at my purpose in seeking this time with her, and that I would once more see the more playful aspects of her personality. I suspect that, for all that circumstances required that she played the role of queen to the unicorns, there were times when she had as little patience for the pomp and pageantry of Canterlot as I did. She certainly seemed quick enough to step out of that role when circumstances allowed.
“Aye, I would have command of Equestria’s armies.” If subtly preparing the ground for my declaration was no longer an option, then blunt honesty would rule the day. “I am sure I do not need to speak of my experience in commanding my own clan’s forces, and those of Pegasopolis. Likewise, there are none who better know our enemies, and who could better anticipate and counter their likely actions. In short, if I may speak frankly, there is nopony in Canterlot better qualified for the post than I.”
Commander Celestia was silent for some time, which caused me a small measure of consternation. What need was there to consider my words when the truth of them was plainly evident? ‘Twas not until she spoke that I grasped the reasons for her reticence. “I do not doubt thy skills as a general, nor question thy abilities and thy loyalty. I have every confidence that if I were to entrust my armies to thee, they would perform admirably on the field. However, Duke Polaris will be given that post, as befits his role as my grand vizier.”
I could scarce comprehend her response. Surely she could not think a pampered unicorn fool a better general than I? “Commander, if I may—”
An upraised hoof cut short what else I might have said. “Shadow, I have spoken on the matter. I pray thee, do not press me on it. I have my reasons for selecting the duke, and there are no words thou might offer that would change those. Much as I honor and value all that thou hast sacrificed in my name, the post thou seekest cannot be thine.” The Commander averted her eyes from my own, her voice heavy with weariness. “I would ask that thou speak no further with me on this matter, for I take no joy in refusing thee. In truth, I had hoped to put all talk of the war aside for today; I have been ill at ease ever since determining that I cannot e’en offer a negotiated settlement for fear of appearing weak. I pray thee, let us instead focus on the matter at hoof.”
“As you wish, Commander.” For all my private indignation, I saw little choice in the matter other than to accept her ruling. Further arguing my case would not only be undignified, ‘twould also cost me the Commander’s favor. For all that she erred in this matter, ‘twas plain that her mind was set.
Silence fell ‘twixt us, heavy and wearisome. I felt a distance ‘tween us that I ill-liked, given the closeness I had become accustomed to enjoying with her. I might have spoken with her on other matters, were it not for the difficulty of putting her ruling from my mind. For all that I knew, ‘twould be prudent to say no more, the matter occupied my mind far too greatly for me to seize on any other subject, save the most trivial. Idle discussion of the day’s weather was hardly fitting.
Gale’s return came as a welcome relief for the both of us, breaking the painful silence. She spared a glance for the Commander and I, a slight frown tugging at her lips, then spoke. “Mother, I have discovered a site which e’en you at your most particular could find no fault in.” I was in no mood for Gale’s attempts at wit, and informed her of as much with a pointed glower. She met my gaze and offered a slight nod, silently conveying her apology. “If you will follow me, I will show you the location I have in mind.”
Gale took wing, with myself and Commander Celestia close behind. ‘Twas a short enough flight, for there was only so much space to be had atop the mountain. The old fortress she led us to used a good deal of that; ‘twas far larger than any of the ones previously built. Not only was its size impressive, the ruin also seemed in far better condition than any of the others we’d visited. That could likely be attributed to the unique stonework of the place. While limestone and marble stolen from the other forts would blend seamlessly into the rest of Canterlot, the red stones of this place were most unique. Any builder who thought to avail himself of this place’s stones would have made his crime plain to all who had eyes.
“The buildings and interiors are all in good enough condition, so far as I can judge.” Gale offered. Obviously, neither of us were experts in stonework, nor possessed anything beyond the most basic grasp of how stone fortifications functioned. However, Canterlot no doubt had ponies who possessed such skills, and could apply them to a more professional evaluation of the place.
I gave the compound a cursory inspection, and offered my thoughts. “‘Tis large enough to meet our needs, unless we grow well beyond my fondest hopes. As thou said, I see little that would require repair work to render it suitable for habitation. And ‘tis red.”
Gale answered the last with a snort. “As if we could not paint another building in our clan’s colors, should the need arise.” After a moment, she conceded the matter. “Still, better that we be saved the effort of doing so.”
‘Twas at that point that I noted Commander Celestia had remained silent whilst my daughter and I discussed the matter. She gazed down at the old fortress, a distant look in her eyes. For all the current difficulty ‘tween us, I would not act without her approval of the choice. “Commander? Might I trouble you for your own assessment?”
Commander Celestia started, having apparently been shaken from her thoughts by my voice. “My apologies, Shadow. I was somewhat preoccupied by thy most unexpected choice. I suppose ‘tis no surprise, given that thou and thy daughter are not familiar with all aspects of Canterlot’s history. Most would not think Diamond’s Folly a suitable place to name as a home. E’en the vagrants and criminals who dwell in many of the old ruins avoid it, for it carries an ill repute.”
“Diamond’s Folly?” I inquired. “Such a name is not attached to a place without reason.” ‘Twas certainly an intriguing difference from the old ruins named after their commanding officers or various magi and nobles of old Unicornia.
“Aye.” Celestia waved a hoof, encompassing the entirety of the old fortress. “‘Twas built by Queen Diamond the Second, commonly known as the Dullard. She felt that Unicornia in general, and Canterlot in particular, were too poorly defended. No doubt her poor relations with the other pony tribes were a factor in that belief.”
The Commander took a steadying breath, then continued. “During her reign, she devoted much of Unicornia’s resources to a project of fortification and development. ‘Twas not cheaply done, and she not only levied new taxes to fund it, but cancelled many common civic events such as the Hearth’s Warming festivities to reduce the government’s other expenses. None of her many projects were so ruinous to the treasury as Diamond’s Folly.
“The reasoning behind it was simple. Limestone and marble are adequate enough for most purposes, but there are stronger stones to be found. For the fortress that would protect her capital, Diamond would not content herself with anything less than the best she could find: granite.” The Commander landed next to walls, and idly struck them, her hoof making no impression ‘pon the stones. “However, the strength of the stones proved more a curse than a blessing; many a mason’s chisel and hammer shattered in the course of working on Diamond’s Folly.
“As importantly, there was the matter of moving the stone to Canterlot itself.” She waved a hoof towards the city. “The unicorns of Canterlot do not use limestone and marble merely for aesthetics, but because they are close at hoof. The nearest place where granite could be found in the quantity and quality Diamond required lay several hundred miles from here. Not to mention the quarries were owned by earth ponies, who misliked her rule.”
“She likely could have had a dozen forts of local materials mined by her own subjects for the cost of the granite,” Gale concluded.
Commander Celestia nodded. “Easily. And for all the expense, she constructed a grand fortress, only for it to never be attacked. ‘Twas not finished until Diamond lay on her deathbed, and her heirs repaired relations with the other tribes while leaving the fort to rot.” She offered a dismissive hoofwave. “There are some rumors that ‘tis haunted or ill-fated, but I’ve noted nothing of the sort. ‘Tis nothing but the legacy of a fool who drained the royal treasury on a pointless project that existed solely to feed her own vanity.”
I looked Diamond’s Folly over once more, confirming my assessment. “Perhaps ‘tis time somepony put it to a better use then. For all that ‘twas pointless and unneeded in its own time, it might well serve a new purpose in this one. Mayhaps Diamond’s Folly shall become the Kicker’s Fortune.”
Though I was pleased enough to have found a proper home for my clan, ‘twas a hollow comfort in light of the greater issue before me. E’en the reclamation of our old clanhold would make a poor consolation for the fact that I had been denied the post that ought to have been mine by rights. If the war proceeded poorly, my clan’s new home could be lost ere we e’en had the opportunity to properly claim it for our own.
After seeing to the arrangements for a proper surveying of Diamond’s Folly, I found myself with little more to see to. Or perhaps ‘twould be more accurate to say that there was nothing more I cared to occupy myself with. Commander Celestia’s refusal had left me in a foul mood, and I had neither the patience nor the inclination to occupy myself with the thousand trivial tasks that I might normally occupy my time with. Especially when the great bulk of them were likely some variation on addressing the problems of accommodating several thousand pegasus refugees in a unicorn city. ‘Twas the very reason I had sought out a new clanhold to begin with.
As I was in no mood to apply myself to administrative or political matters, I instead occupied myself on the training grounds. While the facilities at the Royal Academy of the Ars Magica were naturally suited to a unicorn’s skills, I found something suitable enough for my needs. I confess a brief moment of disquiet when I discovered that the sparring strawmares at the Academy were in the form of pegasi. Though I suppose the practicality of it was undeniable, ‘twas still disquieting to think that young magi were being trained to see my own kind as the enemy.
Once I set to my training, the shape of my target was of no great concern. While ‘tis unwise to give one’s fury freedom too commonly, there are times when venting one’s spleen is the best course of action. Recent events had certainly given me more cause than most to feel wrathful, so I unleashed the full measure of my anger upon the object, heaping upon the strawmare all the evils I’d suffered through.
I was so focused upon my task that I did not take note of Copper Spark’s arrival alongside several of his fellow magi. The lot of them were deep in conversation, but when Copper espied me he soon excused himself, standing aside for a time, and then approaching once I’d finished with my current exercise. His gaze took in sweaty brow and heaving chest, as well as the palpable air of displeasure I no doubt carried. “‘Twould seem thy mind is much troubled on this day, Shadow.”
Though Copper’s mere arrival was not enough to dispel my troubles, it did at least make them slightly less pressing. He was a good friend, and despite the fact that nothing more than a passing pleasure had come of our brief dalliance, I looked back fondly at it. More’s the pity, he had found a wife and children in the intervening years, else I might have been tempted to renew it in light of recent events. Though Rightly was still dear to me, I held no illusions that our courses might yet be reconciled. We were at war, and he was my enemy now. Though I was not one to bemoan a broken heart, I will confess that the pleasures of the bedchamber would have aided in putting the matter from my mind. As such were beyond my grasp, I contented myself with words. “The day has not developed to my satisfaction, old friend.”
Copper met that news with a concerned frown, stepping nearer, but not so close as to seem inappropriate. Whatever our past relations, his heart belonged to another now. Despite that, he was quick enough to offer me comfort. “Mayhaps thou wouldst enjoy the hospitality of my home so that we might discuss what troubles thee so whilst far from prying eyes and wagging tongues?”
Despite all my troubles, that offer brought the beginnings of a smile to my face. E’en in these dark times, old bonds of friendship might yet be renewed and strengthened. “I would gladly accept thy hospitality.”
Copper answered that with a welcoming smile of his own, though when he spoke there was a terseness to his words. “Let us waste no time in departing, then.” One who did not know him as well as I might mistake it for ungraciousness, but I knew the stallion well enough to grasp his true intent. He was quite aware that I was troubled, and sought to expedite our arrival at a place where I might unburden myself upon him. He was ever a considerate one.
Copper led the way towards his home, whilst I followed in his wake. Our journey through the Academy and the city itself was telling of the tumultuous times. Everywhere could be heard the ring of steel on steel and shouted orders as the city made ready for war. Fresh suits of mail stacked outside smithies and in the city agoras—neigh, the unicorns called them forums—alongside wooden shafts and spearheads waiting to be mated to them. As common as the smiths were the enchanters, plying their magical crafts ‘pon the newly made wargear, or preparing their own bewildering variety of magical devices. I would need to remember to make inquiries on that matter; easy access to magic would be an advantage for my clan ‘gainst the warriors of Pegasopolis.
The very streets themselves had undergone a similar shift. Gone was the gay laughter of colts and fillies at play, replaced by a grim, fearful silence. Minstrels sang of dark times and darker deeds, while the merchants no longer preyed on the greed of the common pony, but their fear. While Unicornia’s levies had not yet fully mustered, there were still soldiers and magi to be seen on every streetcorner. Naturally, the great bulk of them were unicorns, but there were a few clusters of earth ponies from those communities near enough to answer Commander Celestia’s call to arms. ‘Twas strange to think that a mere month ago, the sight of a pegasus in full combat gear drew curious onlookers, yet now there were warriors all about.
Copper’s own gaze similarly traversed the city, a troubled frown on his face. No doubt he found it e’en stranger than I did to see the place so transformed. I had only the passing familiarity of a visitor, but Copper had been born to Canterlot. Moreover, the transition to a city of war rendered it familiar to me, whilst it would be all the more alien for him. I could well relate to a pony who felt that the place he named as home was no longer as he recalled it.
I spoke of idle things, if only to end the silence and take his mind from such troubling things. “I trust thy wife and children fare well?”
The frown faded from his face, though the polite smile that replaced it did not quite reach to his eyes. “As well as could be expected in our current circumstances. My lady wife is currently assisting with the enchanting at the Royal Armory, which occupies her time far more than I should like. Such is the cost of war. My eldest's studies are going well, though I fear his apprenticeship will be delayed by the war—our best magi can hardly spare the time for training the young. Thus far, I and my fellow Archmagi have not reached a satisfactory solution to the problem of what to do with those apprentices too young to help directly with the war. There are some magi who cannot serve on the frontlines due to age and infirmity, but far too few to see to the next generation’s training. Yet the task cannot be neglected too badly—if the war is not ended quickly, we will sorely need a fresh generation of magi.”
“My own clan faces the same trouble,” I confessed. “I pray things do not reach a point where the ponies of my clan must learn the warrior’s arts on the battleground instead of the training field.” For all that I take pride in my clan, a Kicker without training is no better than any other untrained pony. Mayhap worse, for they would likely know just enough of the ways of battle to render them foolish.
“I only pray that our young will not have to bear too many of the burdens from this war.” His voice grew heavy with dread. “I have heard it said that in peacetime children bury their parents, whilst in war parents bury their children. I pray that I do not live to see such a thing come to pass within my own home.” He turned to me and placed a hoof ‘pon my shoulder. “I also pray that thou dost not face a similar fear with thine own daughter.”
For all that my daughter troubled me when the mood took her, the thought that I might be forced to lay Gale to rest ere the war’s ending sickened me beyond words. “Gale fares well, and I have absolute confidence in her skills as a warrior.” Those words carried a hint of fear and vulnerability that I misliked, though ‘twas natural for any parent. For all my confidence in my daughter, I could not deny the quiet terror that took me whenever she faced peril. I do not know how Bright Charger endured the thought of having so many of her own flesh and blood in harm’s way.
Copper offered a quiet murmur, acknowledging my fears without calling attention to them. “My condolences on all that passed within thy clan ere thou didst depart Pegasopolis. The greatest cruelty of civil wars is that they turn kin ‘gainst one another. At least Unicornia has not been so sundered by this war. Thus far, our intelligence indicates that only a few ne’er-do-wells and mercenaries have aligned themselves to the Lunar cause.”
Though ‘twas already common knowledge that a few of the dregs of Unicornian society had sought common cause with the rebels, I noted two significant words in Copper’s statement: ‘Thus far.’ ‘Tis curious how two simple words could so alter his entire statement. Were there e’en more ill tidings to consider? ‘Twould certainly add to the need for our discussion to occur in privacy if there were forces in Unicornia that might stand opposed to the Commander.
Little more was said between us ere we arrived at his home, and none of that was of any consequence. Copper’s home was relatively modest by Canterlot standards, which is to say that it was not plated in gold and encrusted in jewels. Like many of the better-placed magi, Copper Spark came from a long line of accomplished spellcasters. While the magi disdained the noble custom of passing titles down the family line, ‘tis hard to deny that to some extent magic runs in the blood. Though material wealth beyond what is needed for their arcane pursuits is rarely a concern for magi, any family line which enjoys success in its endeavours and avoids needless waste will accumulate some modest wealth. While Copper Spark’s family hold was lacking in the extravagance of a noble home, it bore an understated tastefulness I found pleasing enough to the eye, and was of a size to more than comfortably accommodate his current family. I confess that naming merely wife and children as family enough to fill a home struck me as most strange, but I am well aware that the other tribes had a somewhat narrower view of family than did the clans of Pegasopolis.
Copper stepped ahead of me as we neared, causing me to briefly wonder if there were some magical defenses he needed to disarm ere I could enter. Though his horn did light, I noted no casting other than a simple opening of the door for my benefit. I should like to think that e’en if I had not faced a spellcaster in battle for some time, my skills had not decayed from lack of use to the point where I could fail to note a magus disarming his wards.
Rather than concern myself o’ermuch with the matter, I offered Copper a polite smile as I stepped through the threshold of his home. “Ever the gentlecolt. I am honored to accept thy hospitality, and shall comport myself as a guest within thy home.”
“As it is my honor to be thy host,” Copper replied, closing the exchange. That formality attended to, he offered a tired but good-natured smile. “I do believe in treating a lady properly, and I pray that thou dost not take offense to the title this time.”
I required a moment to recollect what he referred to. “Ah, yes, when first we met. I was far younger then, and I should like to think I’ve grown in the intervening years. And e’en though I did not care to be called a lady, I do recall being treated most properly after we had concluded our hunt for the warlock.” The memory brought a fond smile to my lips once more, and I was glad we had the home’s entryway to ourselves. Explaining the matter to his wife or children would have proven most discomfiting. “Alas for simpler times.”
“Aye, simpler times.” Copper closed and secured the door, then led me to his parlour. Like the rest of his home, the walls and floors were of simple but fine marble, with sufficient rugs and wall hangings to prevent the place from being naught but an unending sea of white stone. He led me to a divan, and motioned for me be seated. “Wouldst thou like refreshment? I do not know how well the cuisine and beverages of Unicornia compare to those thou art accustomed to, but I would be remiss in my duties as a host if I did not offer.”
That drew a faint chuckle from me. “Surely thou dost recall that for all their many, many faults, the one matter in which the groundly races are superior to the pegasi—aside from the matter of meat—is in their food and drink? (4) Given that, I think thou shalt find my needs simple enough to accommodate. I leave the details of it to thy discretion.”
4: Omnivorousness has a long tradition within pegasus society, dating back to pre-Lyequine times when the pegasi were nomadic bands of warriors. While the pegasi usually traded for food with the earth ponies (or took it by force), there were inevitably going to be times when food supplies ran low. Presumably at some point, a group of pegasi were desperate enough to feed on the flesh of a freshly slain beast, and before long it became a regular practice in lean years. Warrior pride tended to get in the way of agriculture or even gathering simple roots and berries, but hunting didn’t ruffle anypony’s feathers. Once Equestria was settled and the food supply became more reliable, the hunting and meat-eating traditions largely died out, though there are still a few vestiges like the Long Patrol initiation rite.
Copper acknowledged my request, and returned a short time later with bread and cheese, along with two glasses of wine. All three were of fine quality, though the wine was watered enough that we were in no danger of o’erindulging unless we had a dozen more such glasses each. Once we’d broken bread, he spoke of the matter that brought us together. “I believe we have matters to discuss, given the storm cloud hanging above thy head ‘pon the training grounds. What troubles thee so?”
There was little point in e’en attempting to deny that I had been in an ill humor earlier. Copper had come to know me far too well for such a transparent deception to have any effect. After a moment’s consideration, I extended him my trust on the matter. “I have spoken with the Commander regarding my wish to lead our armies in battle. Her response was less than ideal.”
The news brought a frown to Copper’s lips. “I take it the rumors are true, then? Thou hast heard confirmation that our new grand vizier is to lead the armies of Unicornia?”
“From the Commander's own lips,” I reluctantly confirmed.
“Ah.” Copper offered a grumble, then downed the remainder of his wine in a single gulp before briefly leaving to refill his glass. When he returned, I noted that the wine in his glass had a much richer, fuller color. Clearly, he cared for the news no more than I. “I fully grasp the cause of thy disquiet, then. Those who have the pleasure of knowing thee and the misfortune of knowing Duke Polaris would all agree that thou art infinitely better qualified to lead in battle.”
That was not a ringing endorsement of his ability. Though I had expected I was the better war leader, I did not think the disparity could be so great as Copper stated. ‘Twas no slur for one of the ground to be a lesser warrior than one of Pegasopolis, but Copper’s words bespoke a far deeper problem. “He is as ill-suited to the role as any could be, then?”
Copper drew heavily upon his wine glass once more. “He is far from my first pick for the role, even amongst the nobility. That honor would go to Grandmaster Crossguard from Sol Invictus; he might not be as young as he once was, but he has forgotten more of war than Polaris has ever known. In truth, I struggle to name anypony worse for the role who also has the resources to claim it. He has some of the worst traits of the nobility, such as an excessive belief in his own cleverness and superiority, despite ample evidence to the contrary. The only fair thing I can say about him is that he is an able politician. Too able for my liking, given his other tendencies.”
Ah, the worst sort of politician, then. One with an impressive skill for gaining power, but none of the qualities needed to properly use it. Still, that raised further questions to my mind. “If he is truly so unsuited to the role, what could have possessed the Commander to make her grant him the position?” E’en with Sunbeam Sparkle, I could at least grasp the reasoning. I did not care for the idea that ability offset a lack of virtue, but I at least understood how some might think it.
“As I said, for all his other faults he is an able politician.” Copper let forth a resigned sigh. “In theory, Her Majesty has the right to appoint whoever she wishes as her grand vizier. The reality is somewhat more complex. Duke Polaris has opposed Magus Sunbeam's entire reign as grand vizier, and between those who support his own policies and the many enemies she acquired during her reign, he has gathered a considerable coalition. His fiery rhetoric in support of the crown and ‘gainst Pegasopolis has won many to his side, and by all appearances he is the stallion of the hour.” Copper’s upper lip curled back in distaste. “At least, to those who do not know him.”
“Then let him have his politics and triumphs amongst the fops of the royal court.” I growled. “He may make as many fine speeches as he wishes, while I tend to the business of war.”
Copper shook his head. “Dear Shadow, I fear 'tis not as simple as that. For all your skill, the ponies of Unicornia wish to defend the honor of their queen and our own pride. Few would accept a leader who is not one of our own, and Polaris is riding a wave of political success. It is a time of crisis, and he appears to be the right pony to lead us through to safety. Naming any other to the post would earn Her Majesty the displeasure of all his supporters, and they are legion.” Copper slumped down onto his seat, his chin resting on the divan’s cushions. “Any division within our ranks could be dangerous at this hour. All Pegasopolis stands ‘gainst us, and half the earth ponies. ‘Twould be difficult to win the war if Unicornia is not firmly behind its queen.”
I could read what he left unsaid easily enough. “One tribe has already betrayed the Commander, and another teeters on the brink of it. The third sees weakness, and would exploit it to their advantage.” Loyalty, it would seem, was far too valuable a commodity to be granted freely.
A dark scowl formed on Copper’s face. “Just so. Can Her Majesty afford to risk opposing Duke Polaris in such circumstances? And if her most faithful supporters ask a few small boons of her, dare she deny them?”
‘Twas as I feared, then. Little wonder, then, that Celestia did not wish to speak of the matter. Though it seemed immodest to say it, ‘twas likely that she also considered me the better mare for the job, and was displeased that circumstances required she name another. “Are matters truly so dire that she must appoint him as her general, lest the unicorns side with the rebels?” I did not doubt that there were some within Unicornia whose vain ambition was such that they dreamed of unseating Celestia, so that the crown might be theirs.
“It does not even have to reach the point that Unicornia turns ‘gainst her.” Copper busied himself with the bread and cheese for a few moments, gathering his thoughts. “They need do nothing at all in order to ensure her downfall. If the nobles do not muster their levies, or the magi and knightly orders do not rise to the queen's call, then the war cannot possibly be won. Though I do not doubt thy capabilities, Shadow, e’en thou couldst not defeat all Pegasopolis with only thy clan and the Royal Guard.” (5)
5: At this point in time, the Royal Guard was little more than a small honor guard tasked with protecting the palace and Celestia herself. Its expansion to the point of being Equestria’s national army, alongside the elimination of private forces like the noble levies and the absorption of the knightly orders and magi into the Guard’s ranks, was one of the key post-Rebellion reforms to consolidate Celestia’s authority.
“Aye, 'tis so,” I reluctantly conceded. “The war cannot be won without Unicornia, and the price of unicorn loyalty is a position of prominence for their favored son.”
“Indeed. Polaris is in an almost unassailable position, so far as his support goes. Unless he is shortly found abed with Ephor Doo, several foals, and a goat, he will continue to enjoy the backing of all Unicornia.” I briefly gave thought to seeing if Gale could arrange something of that nature, but dismissed it as naught but an idle fancy. “I only hope that the rest of Unicornia discovers his true nature ere we pay too heavy a price for granting him leadership.”
“Aye.” My mind once more turned to those I had once named my friends and comrades. “When the ephors meet him on the field of battle, they will care little for how great his renown is 'mongst the unicorns.”
Copper nodded.“As thou didst say. Pity he does not seem inclined to appoint some veteran of battle from the knightly orders or the magi to lead our armies. ‘Twould seem he wants the glory for himself, and is offering the other offices within the army as rewards to his most ardent supporters, e’en if they are as unqualified for the position as he is. As I said, a politician’s thinking.”
That drew a disgusted snort from me. “Politicians should know better than to involve themselves in military affairs.”
Copper answered that remark with a teasing smirk. “Spoken as if thou didst not engage in thy share of political maneuvering during thy time in the Ephorate. Though I am every bit as guilty of the crime of politicking; ‘tis a cruel necessity of leadership.”
His point was well taken, e’en if I did not care for it. “Though I have faced my share of political matters, in my heart I have always seen myself as a warrior. I can hardly be blamed if some battles are better fought with facts and debate than blade and hoof.”
“And I am a magus, yet I never would have become Archmagus of the Eastern March had I not learned how to manipulate a conclave, carefully cultivated the proper allies and presented myself as the best candidate. Thus we come to it: a magus and a warrior who both care little for politics, discussing political matters and hoping to find solutions to our political problems. Such is all too often the way of things. So long as ponies disagree on important issues, there will always be politics.”
A frown darkened his face, and he gave an angry wave of his hoof. “One need but look at the war facing us to see what happens when politics fails. The alternative is that we just kill each other in a frenzy until one of us receives what he wants, or everypony is too dead to care. Neigh, I think I prefer the endless bickering to bloodshed.” He let out a short, humorless laugh. “Well, with a few exceptions for particularly aggravating ponies.” The jest only briefly lifted his mood. “At least the common pony can largely be kept out of the nonsense when 'tis a matter of politics. War often lands 'pon them the hardest. E’en those nobles who take the field will sit far from the front lines of battle, content to send the sons and daughters of craftsponies and farmers to fight and die in the mud for their cause.”
“And yet, if my daughter were here she would likely point out that a discrete assassination might well save many lives compared to accepting the results of politics in this matter.” Not that I would have accepted such a suggestion. E’en if the attempt succeeded, which was far from certain, ‘twas all too likely that Polaris’ death would worsen the situation rather than improve it. “I suppose 'tis as thou sayest, and political affairs are the lesser evil. Still, the current state of affairs does not strike me as ideal.”
“Neigh, that we can both agree 'pon.” Copper let forth a resigned sigh, refilling both our glasses. “Sadly, we do not enjoy the luxury of living in the world as it ought to be. Only the world as it is.”
“Aye, 'tis so,” I agreed. “But if we resign ourselves too readily to the world as it is, the world that should be shall never exist.”
Copper nodded, and tapped his glass against my own. “Then we must work together, and strive towards the world we wish for.”
“Aye.” I steeled myself for the unpleasant necessity of what was to come. “‘Twould seem that I’ve a political problem to contend with, and must seek a solution in the realm of politics. I would welcome thine advice on the matter.” I only had the vaguest understanding of Unicornia’s internal politics, for until recently they had been of little concern to me.
“Of course, dear Shadow.” Copper briefly placed one of his hooves over my own. “I have long considered thee my friend and ally, and we are in a time where both are invaluable. I will give thee whatever help I can.”
I offered him a grateful smile, briefly placing one of my hooves over his own and gently squeezing it. “I am glad to hear it, though I fear that thou art the only unicorn in all of Canterlot who would claim that distinction.” I resigned myself to what must be. “'Twould seem that I must add more to the sum of my allies if I am to fight the war properly. Thou art more aware of how things stand politically in Canterlot than I. Are there any whom you would suggest I approach?”
“Aye, there are several who spring to mind.” Copper considered the matter, then amended his statement. “Though ere I name them, I would ask how much thou knowest of the politics of Unicornia. Names without context would be of little help to thee.” He paused, offering a soft chuckle and an amused grin. “If I might take a guess, I would say: ‘as a proud and noble warrior of Pegasopolis, I have not concerned myself with the debase politics of Canterlot and its decadent and corrupt citizenry?’”
That earned a halfhearted snort from me, e’en if the imitation was at best passable. “E’en in the days of my arrogant youth, I was not so bad as that.”
Copper smiled, a hint of the old warmth we’d once shared shining through. “Mayhaps not, yet thy knowledge is bad enough that I am to explain to thee some of the nature of Canterlot.” The smile held and he briefly met my eyes, but only for a moment. “Alas, I am growing sentimental. Onwards to the matter at hoof. I will attempt to refrain from bogging down in the minutia of the old rivalries and slights, so that we are not here all day and night. Thou needs hardly know who bears a grudge against whom on account of actions taken by distant ancestors most could no longer e’en name. In brief, there are five major political factions in Unicornia thou shouldst be aware of: the crown, the nobles, the magi, the guilds, and the populists.
“Naturally, thou art aware of the crown, in the pony of Her Majesty, Queen Celestia, and of the powers and rights she possesses. She can declare war, collect taxes, make laws, and so on and so forth. In theory, there are few limits to her power, though as we’ve already established the reality is often considerably more complicated.”
“Aye, aye. She is queen, and rules o’er her subjects.” I waved a hoof for him to proceed. One of the few aspects of Unicornia I was already quite familiar with was Commander Celestia’s own power. “I presume, then, that the crown faction consists of those who support her without reservation?”
“Correct,” he confirmed. “Though I must make an addendum that while I am describing five different factions within Unicornia, that is a simplification. ‘Tis often the case that these factions have agendas which are not in conflict with one another, or e’en share some interests in common—the guilds and the common pony both dislike taxation. And each of the factions has its own internal power struggles over leadership and policy. Finally, there are ponies whose own interests lie within multiple factions. There are nobles who are also magi, and magi who have been rewarded with a title of nobility by the queen. Thus, there are those who will seek to promote the goals of several differing factions, as their conscience and desires guide them.”
My mind briefly returned to my prior meeting with Copper, at the conclave to select a new Archmagus of Canterlot. “I recall hearing that there are also families where different members will cultivate ties to each of the factions, and then act in concert to support their own agenda. As is the case with the new archmagus, given that she is a relative of Duke Polaris.”
“It is as thou didst say.” Copper let an accoyed scoff. “Despite my best efforts to prevent it, the Archmagus of Canterlot is his cousin, and serves as naught but Polaris’s mouthpiece. ‘Twas a well-executed maneuver, both increasing her station amongst the magi and increasing his control over Unicornia’s politics. By tradition, the nobles and the magi are the two most powerful factions within Canterlot, and now both answer to the same stallion. With such forces backing him, ‘twas easy enough for Polaris to bring pressure 'pon Her Majesty to make him commander of the army.”
Troubling. If the two greatest forces in Unicornia already moved at Polaris’ command, ‘twould be most difficult to unseat him. Given the presence of family ties, I did not think it likely I could sever his cousin the Archmagus from him. Still, I should at least ask after the factions that were likely my intractable opponents. “I take it that the noble and mage factions represent the will of those classes, or at least the leading figures within them?”
“That is generally the case, aye,” Copper confirmed. “Though the nobles and magi both have their own internal rankings, in both cases the leaders are those who can pursue the interests of their followers, and effectively deliver on the promises made to them. I would never have become Archmagus of the Eastern March if I had not first succeeded in improving upon the standard spellbook template and making that available to my followers, negotiated a reduction in salt taxes for our region, and suggested several long overdue reforms for our bylaws.”
“Not so dissimilar from how one joins the Ephorate, then.” To be sure, there were many differences in the details, but the fundamental principles remained the same. One became an ephor by demonstrating their abilities in the field, while also showing clear promise for further growth after promotion. My own accomplishments in the Long Patrol and as a hunter of warlocks had secured my place among their numbers. (6) “Two factions remain, then. What of the guilds?”
6: Unsurprisingly, given the rift between them, Shadow doesn’t mention all the politicking her father did to help her succession.
Copper stroked his chin for a moment, his mind likely drawing the connections ere he spoke. “Much like the nobles and magi, the guilds largely seek their own advancement, as a whole. That is not to say the various crafters and professionals will not viciously compete ‘gainst one another in their private affairs, but they also recognize their common interests—namely acquisition of wealth and the protection of their own rights and privileges. They’ve a curious relation with the nobles and magi: their factional interests often compete with one another, yet ‘tis also common for nobles or magi in need of funds to seek marriage with guildponies in need of status and respectability.” He sighed, and waved a hoof dismissively. “For the moment they back Polaris, and though they are not fervent in their support, I fear thou hast less that would appeal to them, especially as most of them resent the taxes needed to pay for Pegasopolis’ many expenses.”
“Materialists,” I concluded, offering a disgusted snort. I have never understood why some ponies become so concerned with the acquisition of things. So long as I could provide for my clan, what need had I of more bits of gold that served no practical purpose? “And the last faction?”
That drew a smile to his face. “Ah, like any good showpony, I have reserved the best of my offerings for the final act. The Populists are somewhat complicated, though I hold their cause dear to my heart. The simplest way I can put it is that they wish to expand the rights of the common ponies, while reining in the nobles and reconstructing the government of Unicornia to follow a more rational and efficient course. Authority should rest in the hooves of those with talent and ability, regardless of the bloodlines they hail from.”
I would scarcely have imagined that such a sensible group of ponies existed in all Unicornia, though I suppose I should not have been surprised to learn that Copper Spark was not the only pony of sense within the kingdom. ‘Twas a welcome revelation, regardless. “And their opinion of Duke Polaris?”
Copper offered a fierce grin. “They despise him with a passion. One could hardly paint a portrait of a pony that more aptly represents the worst of the nobility without creating outright satire.”
His response drew a smile to my own lips. “Excellent. If I am to seek allies within Canterlot, they would seem the logical choice.”
“Aye, such were my thoughts as well,” Copper agreed. “When seeking allies, one should always look first to those who share an enemy in common with thee. Making common cause with the populists also carries a second benefit, for I am tightly allied with them.”
“I am unsurprised to learn that the most sensible of unicorns makes common cause with the most sensible of factions.” I turned to him with a smile. “I trust thou canst arrange a meeting with their leader? Presuming, of course, that I do not already have the pleasure of speaking to him.” An Archmagus would certainly be a worthy figure to lead such a movement.
“A most flattering presumption, but I fear an incorrect one.” Copper offered a smile, but I noted that it did not quite reach his eyes. “I am but one of her closer allies. I could most certainly arrange a meeting, but ere I do so, I must ask a question of thee. Given thine eagerness, I take it thou art not aware of who leads the populists. Would I be correct in that?”
“Neigh,” I confessed. “As I’ve said, I do not keep abreast of Canterlot politics.”
That drew a pained sigh from Copper, as if he were steeling himself for unwelcome news. ‘Tween that and his other comments, I had a dread suspicion as to who he might name as the populist leader. “Then I must ask thee to hear me out, and not change thy mind outright for the pony I am about to name. For the costs are too high in these dark days for thee to act with haste.” He took a breath, and then confessed the evil I already suspected. “The most influential pony amongst the populists is none other than Magus Sunbeam Sparkle.”
That I’d already suspected as much did nothing to soften my displeasure at the revelation. “Then let us seek other allies.”
Copper raised a hoof, attempting to forestall my rejection. “Shadow, I pray thee, do not refuse an alliance with her so quickly. Thou must consider the situation as it stands—thy foe in this matter is Polaris, and Sunbeam Sparkle is his most intractable enemy. Not to mention a mare of considerable influence within Canterlot, e’en if she is no longer in favor with Her Majesty. And as Her Majesty’s favor is one of the few assets thou hast at thy disposal...”
I could not dispute the practicality of his suggestion. By all appearances, my interests and those of Sunbeam Sparkle were in alignment. However, appearances could be deceiving. Whatever common interest we shared was temporary, and I did not think for a moment that Sunbeam would grant her aid freely. Likely I would be required to help restore her to power as part and parcel of any arrangement. I hardly wished to see all the effort I had expended to remove Sunbeam from power go to waste. There had to be a better way to achieve my goals. “The nobles and magi both support Polaris, as do the guilds. What of the crown faction?”
Copper stubbornly set his jaw, and for a moment I suspected he might further plead Sunbeam’s case. After a short time, he subsided. “The crown faction is somewhat small, at least in reality. Most unicorns would loudly declare their loyalty to the queen if asked, but when one makes further inquiries into the details, matters become rather murky. That is not helped by the fact that Her Majesty rarely takes an active role in government affairs. As a ruler, she is inclined to allow matters to proceed as they have in the past, and only act when problems are brought to her attention. Perhaps ‘tis that as an immortal, she prefers a stable government to an ever-changing one.
“However, therein lies the problem: she is disinclined to make changes unless made aware of a problem, but only the factions in power enjoy regular access to Her Majesty.” Copper offered a helpless shrug. “She is a good queen, but she cannot address a problem she is unaware of. More to the point, Celestia’s own rulings do not always reflect her will, but the crown faction cannot know her private thoughts. Organizations like the Order of Sol Invictus are far too loyal to the crown to grasp that sometimes one best expresses loyalty through dissent. If Queen Celestia has declared her support for Duke Polaris, then the crown faction will back him.”
As if matters had not degenerated far enough, he offered more ill tidings. “Also, Sunbeam is one of the leading supporters of the crown. Though her fall from favor has cost her much of her influence among the crown’s supporters, there are no others within their ranks who have her skills. If somepony who had the queen’s ear,” he paused, letting his eyes rest ‘pon me for a long moment, “could persuade her to forgive Sunbeam’s transgressions and welcome her once more at court, I think it likely she would quickly regain her lost influence. And whatever her other faults, she would not fail to repay the one who so aided her restoration. Rewarding those who aid thee encourages others to do so.”
Copper seemed keen to have me make common cause with the mare. I wondered if perhaps he had made his own accommodations with her in the past. As he himself had confessed, he had played the game of politics to become Archmagus of the Eastern March. No doubt Sunbeam’s support would have been a great boon in attaining that goal. And how better to repay any debts he might owe her than to deliver her salvation by persuading me to seek an alliance with her?
Neigh, I would not countenance it. I would fight alongside her in Celestia’s name, but I would not name that foul mare as friend and ally. “‘Twould seem there is no other acceptable path then. I must seek an accommodation with Polaris. I care not for glory; he may take the full share of it, so long as our armies capable of attaining it.”
Copper’s face fell, and ‘twas some time ere he could meet my eyes and speak. “I am saddened by thy decision, but ‘tis thine to make. ‘Tis thy right to make him whatever offer thou deem prudent, e’en if ‘tis one I strongly counsel against.” Copper fell silent for a time, then reluctantly continued in his role as my advisor. “‘Tis possible he would at least heed thine advice on military matters, given thy unique insight into the workings of Pegasopolis. I would not depend upon it, though. Fame is a fickle thing, and he guards what he considers to be his fair measure of it jealously. He would not care to have it be said that his victories are only won due to thee.”
If half of what Copper told me of him was true, I would not enjoy working with the stallion. Still, the only alternatives were inaction, or an unholy alliance. “Be that as it may, I must at least attempt to pursue the effort.”
“Follow thy conscience then.” Copper slumped low, resignation heavy in his voice. “Though I must warn thee, Polaris’ charm is much like that of stale sweetbread. Appealing on its surface, but once one goes beyond that it quickly become unpalatable.”
As foul as that sounded, it still seemed the least foul of the options before me.
It should probably come as no great surprise that the Ephorate managed a much quicker mobilization than the Loyalists. For all its many flaws, the old Pegasopolan system of military rule had produced a very efficient military machine. Between that and the obvious mobility advantages of a flying army compared to one that needs to worry about roads and terrain, it was inevitable that the Lunars would be able to strike the first blow in the war, and continue to hold the initiative for much of the war’s early stages.
There’s been a great deal of debate about their decision to advance on Manehatten. Many armchair generals have argued that the Lunars should have instead advanced on Canterlot, where they could have potentially won the war in a single battle. I personally disagree with this argument: even if the Loyalists had not yet fully mobilized, there were already substantial forces in the city, and the later Siege of Canterlot amply demonstrated how difficult it would be to break the city’s defenses.
While it is certainly possible that the rebels might have taken the city unawares and won the subsequent pitched battle, the risks involved in such an endeavour would have been massive, and the odds of success were low. I suspect most of those who say the Lunars should have immediately moved on the capital of Unicornia operate with the benefit of hindsight: any alternative that might have succeeded, however slim its chances, seems preferable when we know the historical course of events leads to defeat. The Ephorate, however, did not have the benefit of hindsight, or a historian's knowledge of the Loyalists’ state of readiness.
While taking Manehatten was a more conservative move, it was certainly an intelligent one from a strategic and political standpoint. Given that the entire conflict began over the disputed earth pony elections, whichever side held the earth pony capital would be much better positioned to claim their loyalty. For all the talk of how the earth ponies were split down the middle, the truth was far more complex than an even fifty-fifty split. For every pony who was passionate enough in his beliefs to fight to the death over the matter, there were five who had a preference, but were mostly interested in making it out of the war alive. Holding Manehatten ensured that a lot of the more lukewarm supporters of the rebellion would come out of the woodwork, while the more moderate of Celestia’s proponents would keep their heads down.
The other big advantage of attacking Manehatten was that the city was in no condition to resist. While the Vice-Chancellor and the Mayor had both officially declared for Celestia, many of Apple Tree’s supporters were rioting in the streets, and enough of the local law enforcers were sympathetic to make suppressing the riots difficult. Those same political divisions made calling up local militias problematic, lest they prove similarly divided and add to the chaos, or even outright defect to the rioters.
Needless to say, a city with no army and local law enforcement that couldn’t even keep order in the streets stood no chance against the battle-hardened army of Pegasopolis. While many decried the decision as cowardice at the time, surrendering the city without a fight was the only realistic option. I rather doubt the loyalist government could have cobbled together enough of a force to even mount a suicidal token defence to satisfy honor.
For this interlude, I’ve decided to draw upon two documents. Firstly, a transcript of the speech given by Acting Commander Rightly Doo upon taking the city, and secondly, an excerpt from the memoirs of Dusk Charger.
“I know many of the ponies of Manehatten are fearful at the prospect of a foreign army entering their city. Though the bonds between earth pony and pegasus are strong and ancient, recent events have given many cause to question whether the old treaties still stand. Allow me to take this opportunity to assure every single pony in the city of the following: not only do the old agreements stand, they have never been stronger. Long ago, the ponies of Pegasopolis swore to protect their brethren from all who would threaten them, and today we uphold that vow! We come to this city not as conquerors seeking plunder, but as liberators throwing off the yoke of an uncaring foreign queen who sought to destroy your democratic traditions.
“Pegasopolis has always shared a special bond with the earth ponies. Though our ways differ from yours, we still elect our leaders. We still believe that rulership should lie with the best ponies, not those who have the fortune of being born into one so-called noble family. We believe in a government where reason, debate, and consensus hold sway, not the whims of a distant and uncaring queen who believes herself above the law. We believe that governments should serve their citizens, not that the place of ponies is to grovel like dogs before their leaders.
“In days long before any of us were born, Manehatten suffered the cruelty of griffon occupation, until the armies of Pegasopolis marched forth under the leadership of Commander Luna and cast the griffon hordes back into the sea. Today, the armies of Pegasopolis once more free this city—but this time not from the tyranny of another species, but from our own kind gone astray. As Luna once freed this city, so do we free it, and we honor the sacrifices of our ancestors and the ancient promises we once again fulfill by marching beneath the very same flag. No matter the enemy, when ponies of Manehatten cry out for the freedoms they have been denied by the whim of tyrants, we will answer the call. So long as Pegasopolis stands, the earth will always be free!
“Because we are here to free you, I guarantee the safety and security of every single pony within Manehatten. Our soldiers will not harm you. Your property and possessions will all be vouchsafed by myself and the other members of the Ephorate. Law and order will be upheld, and all shall be allowed to live as they once did. The hetairoi , my own personal companions and protectors, shall work to ensure exactly that in the coming days.
“The corrupt and decadent servants of the tyrant Celestia, which could only hold power through lies and treachery, have already fled the city, and good riddance to them. To ensure a smooth and orderly transition of power, I have appointed Ephor Swift Blade to oversee the creation of a new earth pony government which will reflect the true needs and desires of the common pony. It is my hope that all the ponies of Manehatten, and indeed all the earth ponies across Equestria, will work alongside his efforts so that normalcy might be swiftly restored.
“Fare you well, Manehatten, and enjoy your freedom. May it endure until the end of time.”
We took Manehatten without a fight. Mother was no doubt beside herself with grief.
I confess a certain curiosity to explore the earth pony city, if only for the novelty of the experience. I’d never truly had occasion to interact with our groundbound cousins before. Acting Commander Rightly helpfully accommodated my desires by ordering that his elite hetairoi patrol the city as if they were common gendarmes. While Mother had been most eager to see her children have the honor of a place in the hetairoi, she’d neglected to inform us that in addition to the prestigious duty of seeing to his personal safety, we would also be serving as a convenient means of demonstrating just how much he cared about the earth ponies without actually requiring any personal efforts on his part.
Such are the hazards of taking a politically charged post.
Still, matters were not entirely without consolation. My older sister Lance commanded the hetairoi, so I was at least spared from patrolling seedy back alleys and the like. Though really, I doubt anypony was expecting us to bother with that kind of thing to begin with. The hetairoi were supposed to be out in the markets of Manehatten, so that everypony could see how Rightly’s personal bodyguards were busily maintaining order. Luna forbid we should go to where actual crimes were occurring, given that criminals have this annoying habit of trying to avoid witnesses. Far better that we apprehended a petty cutpurse in the middle of the agora, where all Manehatten could bear witness, than stop a murder where nopony could see it.
There was also the rather pleasant company of my wingmare, Sierra Doo. Granted, the pleasure of her company was less than it could have been, given that she was wed to another. Pity too, for she was a rather attractive mare with a fine olive green coat that nearly matched the tone of her clan’s armor, complemented by a most flattering brown mane. Some years older than me, but not so much that ‘twould have made a passing diversion impossible. ‘Twas likely for the best that nothing could come of it, though. Lance likely would have chastised me for acting lecherously with a wingmare.
The two of us were on guard in Manehatten’s central agora. Well, I called it an agora, though in truth ‘twas quite different from what I had seen in Cloudsdale. The buying and selling of goods and services made the entire place far more noisesome than Cloudsdale e’en on its busiest days. Merchants shouted of the superior quality of their goods, barking offers at any passers-by, some of whom shouted back their own counter-offers. Needless to say, we attracted quite a few glances of our own; some curious, some friendly, and many wary.
“So, these are the ponies we came to liberate?” I passed my gaze over the marketplace once more. “Curious that they do not seem to have been so terribly oppressed, nor overjoyed to see their liberators.”
“They are frightened.” My wingmare did not turn to face me, her eyes still scanning the crowd. “In truth, I cannot blame them. War is no doubt a frightening prospect to those who do not have the ability to defend themselves. They must worry for the safety of their families and loved ones.” Sierra’s voice turned softer, and forlorn. “‘Tis a trouble I know all too well.”
“Thy thoughts linger on thy husband, then?”
“Aye,” she confessed. “I pray we are done with this war ere we must face the Kickers on the battlefield. I fear the very idea of it, for I do not know what would pass if Stalwart and I found one another on the field.” She turned to me, curiosity showing in her golden eyes. “Didst thou have the pleasure of meeting him during thy time with the Kickers?”
It took me a minute to remember the stallion in question. One othe more respected sergeants among the clan’s ranks, with a talent for training new recruits. “I did, though only in passing. He seemed a fine enough stallion.” I considered for a moment, then offered a quick oath. “Should I meet him on the field, I shall do what I can to see that his life is spared.”
“I thank thee for the offer,” Sierra murmured. “I only pray that my daughter still has a father when this war is ended. Astra already misses him, and I would not have her parted from him for all of time.” Her eyes turned west, to Canterlot. “The unicorns cannot ignore the loss of Manehatten. They will meet us in the field, and we will defeat them. Mayhaps then reason will return and the Sun Tyrant will ask for terms.”
“I would prefer to see the matter settled with a minimum of bloodshed.” My own mind turned to the Kickers. Though by law they’d been stripped of that name, Ephor Cyclone’s declaration seemed a weak one when he presided over but a small fraction of the clan. “Shadow and her kin may have chosen poorly in backing Celestia, but they are not villains. Loyalty is a virtue, e’en if they are misguided in which loyalty they value most highly.” I offered my wingmare further words of reassurance. “The Kickers will be allowed back into the fold at the war’s ending. I have heard from Mother that amnesty will be offered to all members of the clan, e’en Shadow herself. Contingent on submitting to Cyclone as paterfamilias and ephor, of course.”
“Naturally.” Sierra turned to me. “Are there any within the clan thou wouldst see live out the war? I’ve heard rumors that your mother hoped to match thee to Shadow’s daughter, ere matters reached the point of war.”
“I would not be surprised by it.” If her own life was anything to judge by, Mother was most aware of the importance of binding the clans together by blood. “Gale was a most comely mare, though I fear she was less than fond of me. Her passion for me was like the burning sun, in that it was quite painful with prolonged exposure. I fear ‘twas more passionate hatred than lust, though I’ve heard it said that there are times when the distinction between the two is uncertain. If that be the case, I shudder to think of what form her true ire would take.”
I fell silent for a time, then offered a confession of my own. “In truth, I am concerned about my sister, Dawn. She is of Kicker blood, and of an age where ‘twould not be surprising if Mother expects to see her blooded ere the war’s ending.” E’en though Dawn aspires to be a medicae, ‘twould be unseemly for the daughter of an ephor to not have some battle accolades to her name. “I would not have my sister’s first experience in battle be the shedding of kinsblood.”
“The shedding of any pony’s blood is a poor first experience for a warrior.” Sierra frowned, shaking her head. “I had thought we lived in an age where such things were long past, aside from the odd criminals and blackguards.” She paused, tapping a hoof idly against her chin. “Does her sire yet live? I would spare him, if I can.”
“I do not recall the name,” I confessed. “I was quite young at the time, and Mother’s partners were passing. Nopony of especial prominence; only I was privileged enough to have an illustrious sire, and that was more by happenstance than design.” For all that she had borne her children to foster bonds with the other clans, Mother had always ensured that we saw ourselves as hers above all else. Had she known more than two decades ago that Steel Striker was not merely a promising young officer, but in fact a future member of the Ephorate, she likely would have chosen another. As it was, I’d exchanged only a few sentences with the stallion o’er the course of my entire life. Though given how sparse he was with his words, that was small surprise.
Sierra frowned in thought. “I see. Mayhaps when next thou hast the opportunity, thou shouldst inquire of thy mother whether...” Sierra slowly trailed off, an ear flicking in annoyance as several particularly loud yells from the agora-goers drowned her out. “What passes now? Are they having another argument over their monies?”
I sought out the source of the disturbance, only to find a cluster of shouting and highly agitated earth ponies. ‘Twas impossible to see the cause of their ire, and far too many were shouting for anypony to make out what they were saying. Whatever the case, ‘twas clearly a disturbance that merited our intervention. The two of us approached, and Sierra unleashed a bellow she’d no doubt perfected in the course of raising a child. “What passes here?!”
The crowd stilled somewhat at our approach, and a few of the ponies nearest us stood aside, revealing a small cluster of earth ponies in the center of the crowd. The stallion immediately caught my eye, due to his split lip and several rapidly forming bruises. The shredded remains of a heavy cloak were draped about him, and he protectively clutched a mare and two young children to his chest, attempting to shield them from the mob’s wrath.
“That’s the murderin’ bastard!” One of the many ponies in the mob shouted out. “Danver Carrot! He’s the one what killed Apple Tree!”
I turned my attention to the stallion once more, scrutinizing him carefully. The Commander had mentioned that Danver Carrot was believed responsible for the murder, and there were posters about the agora declaring his status as an outlaw. The stallion’s mane was not bright green as Danver’s was, but his coat matched, and there are means by which the mane’s color can be changed. His flank was indeed adorned with carrots, and judging by the tattered remnants of a cloak on his back, he’d likely been attempting to hide his identity. Or perhaps he simply liked wearing a cloak. (1)
1: There were over a dozen ponies lynched or executed on suspicion of being Danver Carrot over the course of the rebellion, mostly in more isolated small towns where news from the outside tended to be rather hit-or-miss. While most historians agree that the stallion in this incident was in fact the real Danver Carrot, some have theorized that one of the other stallions was the real Danver, or even that he somehow eluded capture, survived the war, and lived out the rest of his life in anonymity .
Regardless, I took charge of the situation. “Very well. We shall take him into custody and see that justice is done.”
“To hay with that!” One of the many mob members cried out. “We got plenty of justice right here! Somepony find a tree, and let’s string him up!”
While earth ponies were often said to be uneducated, I would have thought they at least knew the difference between justice and mob violence. Sadly, I was mistaken in that belief, and soon the rest of the crowd began loudly agreeing with the suggestion that this stallion who was probably Danver Carrot ought to be lynched.
As the crowd tightened menacingly around the small family, I turned to Sierra. “Find Lance—we need greater numbers.” For all the famed skill of the warriors of Pegasopolis and the Commander’s hetairoi, two pegasi would be hard pressed to subdue several dozen rioting earth ponies. Well, I imagine if we killed a few of them the rest would quickly back down, but I doubt Commander Rightly would appreciate that. Murdering earth ponies in the streets would not be the best way to persuade them that we had come in peace as friends and liberators. 'Twould be rather pointless to disperse a small riot by doing something that would cause the entire city to riot.
Sierra made haste in obeying, leaving me alone to face the budding lynch mob. I shouted in a vain effort to make myself heard, but my voice was just one of many, and as the mob grew larger and larger I was forced into the sky simply to avoid being crushed. There was little I could do to protect the stallion who was suspected, and the mob shortly descended upon him. To make matters worse, several ponies descended upon the mare and foals accompanying him. To what little credit a rioting mob deserves, the children were spared the mob’s fury.
The mare was less fortunate. Though none of them did her immediate violence, she was roughly restrained, and I misliked the ugly mood of the mob. ‘Twas entirely too likely that if matters continued to degenerate they would reach a point where I would have to intervene, no matter the consequences. Though I misliked the idea of using severe force ‘gainst the very ponies I had come to this city to free, there are some offenses which no warrior of Pegasopolis could allow.
As I readied myself for the possibility of battle, a single powerful voice cut through the din. “Stay this madness!”
All eyes turned to the sky, where my sister Lance hovered above the crowd. I cannot entirely account for how Lance was able to capture the mob’s attention with three words, where all my efforts to control them had failed. The best I can explain it is to say that Lance had a sense of presence which I lacked. ‘Twas not a simple matter of appearance, though her golden coat and white mane were certainly striking—to the extent which I could say such of my sister, she was quite comely. Nor was it her size, though much like our mother she was a mare of strength. However, e’en Mother did not carry same indefinable quality that ensured that all eyes were drawn to her whenever she wished it, and that when she issued a command ponies complied without thought. Mother was a formidable mare indeed, yet lacked the raw force of personality that Lance carried.
Ponies obeyed Mother because they knew her accomplishment and reputation, and likely feared that she would smite them if they failed to comply. They obeyed Lance because they could not conceive of defying her to begin with.
My older sister landed in the midst of the mob, those ponies who stood beneath her hastily moving aside so that she would have room to stand. She turned a withering glare upon those who were clustered about the stallion and his wife, and the mob hastily released their victims and moved aside. She then turned on one of the many ponies in the mob, her lance pointing at him accusingly. “Thou. Justify this.”
The stallion flinched away from her. “Well, um, ma’am, he’s Danver Carrot.”
“And the mare?” My sister demanded, her glower intensifying.
The stallion said nothing, stepping further back in a vain effort to disappear into the crowd’s ranks.
Lance finally released the stallion from her gaze, but only so she could direct it to the rest of the crowd. “I have never before had the pleasure of visiting Manehatten. Is this to be my introduction to thy city?” As one, the crowd flinched in guilt. “I have heard it said that this is a city of progress and innovation, yet now I see the most base instincts of all ponykind revealed. I am deeply and personally disappointed with every single pony here. There is no excuse for this.”
One of the ponies in the mob vainly tried to speak in his own defense. “But he’s—”
“There is no excuse.” Lance did not raise her voice in the slightest, yet it cracked out with iron, unquestionable authority. Her gaze once more turned to the ponies directly responsible for the attack. “Thou shalt surrender thyselves to the gendarmerie for thy crimes. As for the rest of thee, a twenty bit fine shall be levied upon all present who joined the mob, and those funds shall be used to compensate the good ponies of Manehatten for their trouble in aiding our cause.”
The crowd hesitated for a long moment, then the stallion Lance had singled out earlier reluctantly pulled out his bitpurse and deposited the required amount of coins before Lance. Once the first pony acted to break the dam, the rest followed his example, and soon dozens of ponies slowly filed past her, paying the fine and offering shamefaced apologies, only to be met with Lance’s disdainful glower. Reinforcements from the hetairoi and local gendarmerie arrived as the last of the rioters were dispersing, save for the ponies Lance had apprehended for more severe crimes.
After briefly speaking with his wife, the mob’s victim stepped to Lance’s side. “Thank ya kindly, ma’am. They was aimin’ to kill every one of us, ‘fore you showed up.”
Lance offered a single, slight nod. “I know not whether thou art the criminal the mob claimed. E’en if that be so, ‘tis a matter for courts and judges, not wild ponies in the throes of madness.” Lance paused, then removed her own cloak and offered it to the stallion’s wife. “And the price for thy crimes is thine, and thine alone.” She nodded to the gendarmes, and they took the family in hoof. The mare briefly protested when her husband was taken from her and put in chains, but he waved her down. Danver Carrot, if he was indeed Danver, seemed resigned to his fate and did not even make a token effort to resist his arrest. Mayhaps he was willing to face trial in return for the safety of his family, or mayhaps the guilt of his crimes had consumed him.
With the matter settled, I approached my sister, a genial smile on my face. “Impressive as ever, Lance. Though I must say, landing in the middle of a mob was bold. What wouldst thou have done if they turned against thee?”
“Given their numbers and temperament, I expect I would have died,” she answered simply.
I was rather taken aback by the casual ease with which she announced that. “Some would say that thou art far too valuable to Pegasopolis to be lost attempting to prevent the lynching of a murderer.”
Lance answered me with a single shake of her head. “This is a war of principles, Dusk. We must stand true to what is right, e’en if it costs us our lives. Better that the war be lost than to win it at the cost of decency, for then we will have become the very evil we fought to prevent. I would sooner die than live to see such a thing.”
I smiled and briefly touched my shoulder to hers. “I am glad it did not come to that. Especially since Mother likely would have burned the city to the ground and put everypony within to the sword to avenge thee.”
Danver Carrot was execute d for the murder of Apple Tree three days later, by order of the Free Earth Pony Provisional Government.
All Canterlot was astir at the news of Manehatten’s occupation. Though the city had already begun girding itself for war, it seemed that the news had lent a new, grim reality to the matter. Where before there had been a sense of eager anticipation and the common pony on the streets talked of glory and victory, now a far darker tone prevailed.
Commander Celestia’s summons to the meeting of her newly formed war council was a welcome honor, if an expected one. Though her new grand vizier might not care for my aid, the Commander was far wiser. Naturally, I asked that Gale accompany me. She had not yet had time to fully brief me on what her agents among the rebels had uncovered, and e’en if she had done so I would prefer to have her close at hoof for any needed clarification.
As we had not yet moved into our newly claimed hold, meeting with the Commander was a simple matter of moving from one room within the palace to another. My daughter briefed me on her agents' findings as we made our way to the council chamber, and the news she brought was less than pleasing. “The earth ponies made not e’en a token effort at defense?” I would not have expected them to fight to the death against impossible odds, but the warriors of Pegasopolis are not prone to laying down their arms. ‘Tis a point of pride that no Pegasopolan army had e’er surrendered en masse to a foreign force. (1)
1: The truth of this particular claim was a matter of some dispute, mostly on account of grey areas over how large a force has to be to count as an army and what exactly constitutes a foreign power or a surrender. Rather than debate that minutia, I would point out the far more relevant fact that Pegasopolis had a long history of heroic last stands, some of which were completely pointless and got a lot of good ponies needlessly killed over a point of pride. Having been in one narrowly-averted last stand myself, I can say with authority that they’re highly overrated.
“Earth ponies can hardly be expected to follow the ways of Pegasopolis, Mother,” Gale offered in their defense. “Though I think we’ve more important matters at hoof than their conduct. ‘Tis not as if a token effort ere they surrendered would have made any great difference to the war’s outcome.”
“True enough,” I allowed. “‘Tis far easier to speak of death and glory when the deaths in question are not our own.”
“I pray we are not put in a position where we could empathize with the plight of Manehatten.” Gale glanced to me, and a note of hesitation entered her voice. “Mother? Art thou certain that thy choice was the proper one? We have sundered our clan and taken up arms ‘gainst the nation of our birth, and to what end? To see Pegasopolis triumphant in the field, while we struggle ‘gainst our own allies in the war’s management?” She paused, then reluctantly added, “I have noted that thine own judgment has seemed flawed in recent days. Mayhaps thou shouldst consider questioning facts you once thought to be inviolable? For the good of the clan?”
I could scarcely believe mine own ears. I took my daughter by the shoulder, and quickly dragged her into an empty side room. Though I was no expert in matters of palace intrigue, e’en I knew that ‘twould be most unwise for us to have any conversation where loyalty was questioned near the war room. “Gale, we are loyal to the Commander. So long as the other ephors of Pegasopolis stand opposed to her, they are our enemies.”
“As you say, Mother.” Gale stood tall. “If it is your will that the clan serve Commander Celestia, then I shall see it done. If ‘twas your wish that we serve Pegasopolis, I would also see that done. My loyalty is to clan and materfamilias, not to an alicorn I had not e’en met until recently.” She turned to me, wearing a troubled frown. “I do not understand your reasons for siding with the Commander in this matter, and in light of your recent actions regarding the former Archmagus, I confess am troubled. If you can deny the plain logic of political reality so readily, how can I blindly trust your decisions on loyalty?”
Her words cut me to the quick. That my own daughter had cause to question my judgment was troubling indeed. If she did so, what might the common bondponies ‘mongst the clan’s ranks think? Much as my pride had bristled at Polaris’s implications, I could not deny that there were many ‘mongst the clan’s ranks who might have cause to regret abandoning Pegasopolis. Our time in Canterlot had done little to reassure them that I had made the proper choice.
I gave long and careful thought to my words ere I answered my daughter. “Celestia is our Commander. As thou wouldst obey me, so I obey her. That is the order of things.”
“And yet both you and she have erred.” Gale’s ears flattened, and she reached a hoof towards me. “Understand, Mother, that I do not wish to seem as if I am denying you or questioning your right to my loyalty. I am simply troubled by the matter, and would have your assurances that this is a proper course of action for our clan.”
Ah. ‘Twould seem that more would be required to calm my daughter’s concerns than a firm reminder of her place in the clan. So be it then. “Celestia has a vision for the future of Equestria. One I feel is worthy of pursuit: a realm of peace, prosperity, and unity. Mayhaps e’en a place where warrior clans need no longer train from youth to make ready for war. I think that a cause worthy of sacrifice.”
“The rebels have their own goals,” my daughter offered by way of response. “Liberation. A restoration of our old rights and traditions. They’ve not said it yet, but I would hazard that they will not allow Celestia to retain Unicornia’s crown; the risk would be too great. The future of ponykind in mortal hooves once more, free to forge our own destiny rather than heed the wishes of undying queens who are more and more distant from their subjects. There is a certain appeal to it.”
“Who is to say that a mortal can rule any more ably than an immortal?” I countered. “Have we not seen the problems of such e’en now? Think what might pass if Polaris were not merely a servant, but if he wore the crown himself. And our own newly claimed clanhold, a testament to the folly of an old unicorn queen. I do not think Celestia a perfect commander, but I think her on the whole an improvement on the likely results of a return to full mortal rule.” I paused, and another thought sprang freshly to mind. “Though I would question their commitment to mortal rule when they march under the flag of Nightmare Moon.”
“A flag that is naught but an empty symbol,” Gale offered in their defense. “Luna is long removed from the world. Though the history books speak of exile, I think ‘tis likely but a polite fiction. A mare with the strength and will to plunge Equestria into eternal night is far too great a threat to be permitted to live. E’en if she did yet live, Rightly is not so much a fool as to put a madmare on the throne.”
“Then what purpose to the flag at all?” I had been as surprised as any to learn that the ephorate had named Luna as commander. ‘Twas more than passing strange, if only because she was in no position to exercise her freshly granted office, thus requiring Rightly to assume the post regardless. I was concerned by the decision, if only because I could not grasp its reasoning. In military matters, one should always be wary when one’s opponent acts in a manner which seems to defy logic. It likely means there is a hidden threat or some vital missing piece of information.
“The flag of Luna serves the same purpose as any flag. Symbolism.” Gale waved a hoof towards the clouds. “The rebels would not have their war shown as mere Pegasopolan ambition, or the acts of a few madponies seeking naught but anarchy and disorder. What better symbol for the desire to create an alternate order in Equestria than that of an exiled queen who once stood as Celestia’s equal?”
“Thou seemest eager to defend their cause, daughter.” I misliked the implication in those words, and was quick to remove it, especially in light of recent events within our family. “Though I understand it well enough. I do not think Rightly a wicked pony fighting for wicked ends, e’en if such is the popular talk in the streets of Canterlot. Though I disagree with him, there is a nobility to his cause I can find credit in. It does not change that I am loyal to Commander Celestia, but I am not blind to his virtues.”
“If both sides have merits and flaws, then what makes Celestia’s cause the better one?” Gale demanded. “It cannot merely be a matter of personal preference, can it?”
In truth, there was an element of that in the matter. There was a connection of a sort ‘twixt Celestia and myself, one that had blinded me to how poorly she was regarded by others. ‘Twas a thing that did not lend itself well to words, and I feared that attempting to explain it might only make it sound as if I were besotted with the Commander. I would not wish my daughter to think such a thing.
“I think that while both ideals have merits, Celestia is far better positioned to see her own vision made into reality,” I explained. “In a century’s time, the ephors of this age will be long dead, and largely forgotten. At best, they shall pass into legend, where their reputations shall be used to support a dozen contradictory positions. Celestia’s immortality spares her that.
“Further, I would say I find the idea of a unified Equestria more compelling than a return to the old ways. The preservation of tradition is rarely a cause which distinguishes itself in the annals of history. I should prefer to see a single unified Equestria to three tribes divided and all too often quarreling with one another. Celestia’s presence has allowed us to forget that in the days of mortal rule conflict amongst the tribes was all too common.” I thought back to the protest in Manehatten, or the troubled attempt at inspections in Cloudsdale. “Of late we have had trouble enough keeping the peace e’en with Celestia struggling to preserve it.
“Then there is the matter of precedent.” That drew a confused frown from Gale, so I elaborated ‘pon it. “The earth pony elections and the crown of Unicornia are matters for the earth ponies and unicorns, yet they will be decided by Pegasopolan arms. Imagine, then, what will happen when next there is a disputed election among the earth ponies, or a succession crisis for the new mortal rulers of the unicorns. Would the pegasi once more declare a victor by force of arms? The delicate balance ‘tween the breeds is already unsettled, and we could easily see the clans granting themselves the right to choose who rules in the other tribes.”
Gale was quick to offer her own counter to my position. “I see no trouble for Pegasopolis or our clan in such an arrangement. The flaws in both earth pony and unicorn systems are readily apparent, and the ephorate could readily mitigate them by selecting the proper rulers.”
“And how long dost thou think the other tribes would tolerate such an arrangement? Especially as those who would rule began courting pegasus aid with concessions and favors?” I waved a hoof towards my nightstand, on which one of Lyequinegus’ works rested. “When last the pegasi imposed too heavily ‘pon the other tribes, they resisted, girding themselves for war and seeking aid wherever they could find it. As the Ephors would not have unicorns inspecting their clans, so the other tribes would not tolerate pegasi imposing on their own government. Mark my words; if the rebels win the day, we shall see another Equestrian civil war within the century.”
Gale was silent for some time, then finally offered a single nod. “Well reasoned, then. I apologize for pressing you so, Mother, but I needed to know that we were acting properly, and for proper reasons.”
“I hope that I have calmed thy fears then, my child.” I set a hoof on Gale’s shoulder, and offered a single squeeze. “These are uncertain times—I should be more concerned if we acted without any fear. Though blind panic will avail us nothing, a small measure of fear is only prudent. Our actions in the coming days will have implications that shall echo across Equestria for many years to come. Such a thing should not be taken lightly.”
My daughter turned to me, a teasing grin slowly creeping onto her face. “Are you saying that you are afraid then, Mother? That the great materfamilias and ephor does, in fact, know fear?”
“I would be a fool if I did not,” I answered.
Commander Celestia’s war council met in a room that still smelt of dust and cobwebs—I would hazard that there had been no need for a war council since the Commander took up residence in Canterlot. More’s the pity that the room could not linger unused for the remainder of its days. Thankfully, the room’s relative disuse meant that it had been spared from the gaudy decoration that so typified Canterlot.
The room itself had a simple enough design. In the center, there was a large map of all Equestria, with the rebels’ current location and likely routes of approach marked out. Around the map itself was a small circular table, largely dominated by the Commander’s throne, though there were seats enough for about half a dozen more ponies. After this close circle came a second, more distant one. I would hazard that the inner circle was Celestia’s most trusted advisors, while the outer was suited to ponies like Gale: present to be involved in the discussion if needed, but distant enough to keep her peace until such time as her knowledge could be of use.
The inner circle of the war council consisted of Grand Vizier Polaris, his cousin Ahfa Polaris, the new Archmagus of Canterlot, Grandmaster Crossguard, myself and Captain Greenwall. The outer circle included Copper and other Archmagi, nobles, representatives of the knightly orders, a few earth pony militia captains, and Gale. Sunbeam Sparkle was notable only by her absence. Commander Celestia occupied her throne, regally silent as she awaited the arrival of all members of the council. Once we had assembled, she spoke. “The council will come to order. Grand Vizier Polaris has prepared a brief statement regarding the current state of military affairs.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty.” Polaris rose and circled the table until he reached the portion of the map showing Manehatten. “For those of you who have not yet heard the news in any form save wild rumor, allow me to state the facts. The Pegasopolan rebels have taken Manehatten, and are coordinating with rebel sympathizers among the earth ponies to arrange a new puppet government. Scrying by the Mage Corps has proven difficult due to the distances involved but we can confirm that rebel forces have been hitting communities near Manehatten to consolidate their position. Thus far, their pattern has been consistent: they enter a community, install a puppet government if the mayor does not declare for the rebels, and add the local militia to their numbers. Though we cannot confirm it, they likely intend to seize Baltimare, Fillydelphia, and rest of the east coast.”
“Do you think the mayors of those cities will surrender without a fight, as happened in Manehatten?” One of Polaris’s noble sycophants interjected, pausing to direct a loaded glance towards Greenwall and his company.
To my surprise, Polaris responded with an annoyed glower at the noble who had spoken out of turn. “I have had the magi contact the governments in both cities. Sadly, the mayor of Baltimare intends to declare for the rebellion, as will many of the communities along Horseshoe Bay. The recent griffon troubles in the region, and the pegasi’s role in ending them, have filled the area with rebel sympathizers.”
Hearing of it reminded me of my own role in the griffon affair. If I had known that my actions would help deliver the region into rebel hooves... Neigh. I could hardly have anticipated the consequences of my actions. Though ‘twas regrettable that the incident led to the local inhabitants joining the rebellion, defending ponykind against the griffon reivers was a just and noble cause. More’s the pity that the locals could not grasp that their one-time protectors had now become a threat to all Equestria.
Not wishing to linger on the thought that my actions might have unknowingly delivered ponies into rebel hooves, I opted to move forward. “What news from Fillydelphia, then?”
“The mayor of Fillydelphia will fight for Her Majesty.” Polaris’s words drew many approving murmurs from the members of the council, which nearly caused his next words to be lost. “But he has asked if we can promise his city relief.”
That his request was unsurprising made it no less troublesome. A city could resist siege for months if the local inhabitants were determined to fight to the last. Doubly so in the case of a civil war, as the Ephorate would hesitate to bring the matter to a swift and bloody conclusion. By all reports, Rightly was framing his war as one of liberation. That claim would be far weaker if it came accompanied by lurid tales of slaughter and devastation wrought upon any who dared resist.
However, a siege is a long and unpleasant business, and one few ponies would wish to suffer through needlessly. Resisting a siege is almost wholly a matter of morale. Ponies will endure months of subsisting on half-rations and sawdust, so long as they believe there is yet hope for victory, but if defeat seems inevitable only the most fanatical would fight to the last. Especially since Rightly would not offer unreasonable terms of surrender to the inhabitants. The promise of mercy and food would tempt e’en the staunchest supporters of the Commander to lay down their arms, especially if no relief was in sight.
Crossguard spoke next. “The levies have not yet been fully gathered, let alone trained and equipped.” The stallion resignedly shook his head. “I do not think it likely we can have an army ready in a timely enough fashion to spare the city.”
“Have to agree,” Greenwall announced. “Mah militia’s still gettin’ geared up and learnin’ how it all works. We’re good enough for handling the odd bandit or monster, but fightin’ in an army’s a whole different kettle of corn. Not to mention we still got fresh ponies comin’ in every day.”
The new Archmagus of Canterlot rose at last to offer her own thoughts. “The magi stand ready to serve the crown.” The mare herself was unimpressive—I had heard it said she would not have e’en been considered a likely archmagus were it not for the fact that her full name was Ahfa Polaris. She carried the looks of her cousin, though accompanied by a slackness of chin and roundness of body that bespoke a life of relative indolence. Likely she had been one of those magi who occupied herself solely with study and research, rather than action in the field.
“My clan is also prepared for war,” I declared in turn. Considering the overall situation, I thought it prudent to offer further thoughts. “However, considering the situation, I do not think it wise to deploy in force against the rebels. For the moment, time favors us. The clans will wish to consolidate their hold on the eastern coast, and will face the struggles of arranging a new earth pony government loyal to the rebel cause, and each passing day brings us greater strength.” I waved demonstratively to Crossguard and Greenwall. “We’ve recruits to train, and fresh forces to gather.”
Polaris considered me, then briefly consulted one of the ponies in his retinue. Upon closer inspection, I was surprised that I had not taken note of the stallion before, as he stood out from the pampered nobles I had previously seen with Polaris. His attire was entirely too sensible, and his face was heavily scarred, with a patch covering his right eye. More than that, he carried himself like a warrior.
Gale noted the object of my curiosity and provided the answers I sought. “That is Famous Spear, former Captain of the Black Company of Freeport. Polaris’s military advisor, ‘twould seem; you should know that he was once a member of the Order of Sol Invictus, ere he was removed from it and turned pirate and mercenary. Crossguard is unlikely to approve of him.”
“Ah.” I suppose I should have been heartened to see that there was at least one pony within Polaris’s own circle who knew the ways of war. However, Freeport was naught but a hive of villainy, and many of the mercenaries who hailed from the city were less than reputable. (2) “I am curious why he is the former captain.”
2: It bears mentioning that the Freeport of Shadow’s time was a much rougher place. The Council of Thirteen and the descendents of ponies exiled in the aftermath of the Rebellion did a lot to clean the place up and clean out the scum. Granted, it’s still the kind of place where you want to keep a wing on top of your bitpurse and avoid going into back alleys after dark, but the condottieri do a pretty good job of keeping the peace, and actually enforcing law and order.
“He attempted to carve out a private fiefdom in Zebrica, after his client refused to pay him what he felt was a rightful wage,” Gale promptly answered. “The endeavour was less than successful, and the Black Company removed him as leader as punishment for his failure. Though he no longer has an army, ‘twould seem his skills are yet in demand.”
“So ‘twould seem indeed.” Though I misliked the thought of employing a mercenary, so long as he advised the Duke well enough in matters military I could accept it. No doubt he provided Polaris with precisely what he required in a military advisor; I could not see this scarred and disreputable blade-for-hire ever eclipsing Polaris in the eyes of the Canterlot.
After his consultation, Polaris at last answered my concerns. “Though time does benefit us, we cannot allow that to translate to inaction. If we seem impotent in the face of this rebellion, those whose loyalties are yet undecided will not be likely to join our cause. What will every other village in Equestria think, if we inform a loyal mayor of a major city that we are incapable of defending him? We must assemble the militia and levies, but how many will answer the call if we plainly state that we are incapable of defending their homes?”
My surprise at his response was considerable, for ‘twas a well-reasoned one. Mayhaps as had been the case with Sunbeam, I had allowed my personal dislike of the stallion to color my perceptions of his competence. It seemed an unfortunate trend, of late. Still, that his argument had some merit did not silence all of my concerns. “Be that as it may, we do not have the strength to meet the clans in battle and destroy them. Attempting to do so would only diminish our own numbers. A city can be reclaimed more easily than a lost army can be replaced, especially when much of our strength rests in the magi.”
Crossguard gave a single nod, then turned to Archmagus Ahfa. “If I may ask, how long does a magus’ training take?”
“From the date of their entry into Her Majesty’s academy? A decade, including the apprenticeship.” The new Archmagus considered the matter, then amended. “Though some of the older apprentices are capable enough in the combat arts, and we have begun shifting to a more martial focus in our training, at the expense of theory and research. E’en so, a fully trained magus will be difficult to replace, unless the war drags far longer than any of us would wish to see.”
Polaris consulted with Famous Spear once more ere he responded. “‘Twould seem we are on the horns of a dilemma, then. Inaction would doom us, but we dare not seek open battle ‘gainst the rebels until our strength is fully mustered. However, I think I have found a solution to our troubles: a limited engagement. We already know they are spreading their forces thin securing outlying hamlets and making their presence known. We will strike at these outlying units, concentrating our forces to gain local superiority, then quickly withdrawing after our victory is secured. Though ‘twill not give us a decisive victory, ‘twill give us small ones, and assure all that the crown’s loyal forces are capable. Further, every minor defeat and inconvenience we inflict ‘pon the rebels will further slow them, and allow us more time to make our own preparations.”
I was duly impressed by Polaris’s new advisor. ‘Twould seem that if the new vizier was a fool in military matters, he was at least a fool who was cognizant of his own foolishness, and had found a means of mitigating it. The strategy he had outlined was not dissimilar from what I might have suggested, were the army mine to command. However, I still did not care for the idea that an o’erambitious politician and an exiled mercenary captain held command of the army, and just because the plan seemed sound enough did not mean I would let it pass without scrutiny. “There are dangers to that course. If you are caught unawares or stumble upon too large a force, ‘twould be difficult to disengage from an enemy who holds a great advantage in mobility.”
“That is a risk,” Polaris allowed. “However, given that the magi are one of the few forces which are both fully ready for battle and not needed in the capital to train new recruits, I think it likely we will rely heavily ‘pon them for these strikes. Magic offers many options for eluding and evading the enemy.”
One of the other Archmagi seated alongside Copper rose to his hooves. “If I might be permitted to make a small demonstration?” Polaris waved his permission, and moments later the entire room was transformed into an open forest. A heartbeat later, we were on an arctic glacier, then in the middle of a scorching desert, and then returned once more to the war room.
The display stirred Archmagus Ahfa from her relative silence. “As I am sure you have gathered, Hidden Facts is an illusionist. Far from the only pony with such skills ‘mongst our ranks. Pegasus speed matters little when they chase mere figments whilst we secure our escape.”
“There are ways of countering such illusions, of course,” the illusionist allowed. “But then, there are also counters to those counters, and so on. Whatever the case may be, I am confident we shall hold the advantage well enough. They will not find us unless we want to be found.”
“Looks like that’s one issue settled, then,” Greenwall opined. “Ain’t sure magic’ll fix everything, but ya can’t fight a war without takin’ some risks. Don’t mean we shouldn’t do what we can to keep the danger down. S’like a game of poker: you can read the table, check your cards, and try to figure out who’s sittin’ on a good hand and who’s just bluffing, but if you wanna win you gotta make a play sooner or later.”
“Well reasoned,” I conceded with only slight reluctance. In truth, I was heartened to learn that there was competence to Polaris’s management, e’en if it meant I would be left out of the fighting for a time. Let him gain the first taste of ‘glory’ if ‘twas so precious to him, so long as he led the army to victory. Likely once he had secured his position and experienced a proper baptism of fire, he would be far more open to allowing me to work alongside him. If naught else, ‘twas likely that Famous Spear would soon disabuse him of the notion that he could win the war entirely on his own. Unscrupulous mercenary though he was, 'twas in his best interest for his employer to achieve victory. The defeated are rarely in a position to pay their debts in full.
Polaris looked over the assembled council, nodded, then turned to the Commander. “I trust our strategy meets with your approval, Your Majesty?”
“It does,” she confirmed. I was duly grateful for the fact that the war council was considered informal enough to spare us the Royal Canterlot Voice. “Though I would ask what forces are to accompany our counter-offensive, and what will remain in Canterlot. ‘Twould not do for the pegasi to steal a march ‘pon our army in the field and make for an undefended Canterlot.”
“But of course, Your Majesty.” Polaris turned to Crossguard. “I can think of nopony better suited to the task of defending our capital or training our new recruits and auxiliaries than the Grandmaster of the Order of Sol Invictus.”
That was a choice I’d quite expected. Crossguard had skill, experience, and prestige of position that could not be ignored, yet Polaris could not risk allowing him to share the field if he would jealously guard the glory for himself. Garrison duty in the capital was the natural solution, and his age was ample excuse for denying him a field command. In truth, I would hesitate to grant him a field army as well; were he of Pegasopolis, he would be a geront by now. Though I knew the ways of unicorns were different, I was accustomed to the ways of my homeland.
Polaris’s next remark was far less welcome. “I have also been informed that Lady Shadow has graciously volunteered her clan’s services to help train our new recruits. Given their obvious familiarity with Pegasopolan tactics, I can think of no better choice for the task of making our own army ready for the coming war.”
I opened my mouth to protest the decision, but reluctantly swallowed my words. Loathe as I was to admit it, he had trapped me quite efficiently. I had already agreed to train alongside the Order and the earth ponies, and attempting to back out of the agreement now would no doubt damage the good will that gesture had produced. Though I was heartened to learn that Polaris would not be an utterly hopeless general, I could not help but wish that he were a poorer politician.
I knew what was likely to come after the war council’s meeting was at an end. Though Sunbeam Sparkle had her own agents in the council’s meeting, I suspected she would seek my company first, if only so that she might attempt to influence me towards her own interpretation of events. While Copper could provide her with the same account that I would, he was already her creature, and there was little to be gained by having words with him that I could not provide as well.
In anticipation of her arrival, I doused the fire and secured the door. Twice, she had entered my room by way of teleportation, but I would not allow such a third time. I suspected that ‘twould be some time before I was wholly comfortable kindling a large fire in my rooms once more. I have more than had my fill with her arriving unannounced and uninvited.
Gale awaited her alongside me, though I was uncertain whether her primary goal was to aid me or merely to be present should the magus bring her daughter to the meeting. Likely some combination of the two. Though I confess I still found the young filly unsettling at times, I suspected that Gale had formed a bond with Midnight beyond simply using her as an asset ‘gainst her mother. Not that I intended to neglect young Midnight’s use in that manner. E’en though circumstances had forced me into entertaining the thought of a reluctant alliance with the foal-slayer, I would be a fool if I did not keep careful watch o’er my less-than-trustworthy ally. I had no doubt that our alliance would last not a moment longer than Sunbeam believed it to be beneficial to her.
In due time, there was a knock ‘pon my door, and I opened it to find the mare I least desired to see standing before me, her daughter in tow. “Shadow.” One of her ears flicked in irritation. “You might have kindled a fire and saved me the trouble.”
“I might have,” I allowed, “if I desired your company, magus. As it is, I merely endure it.”
“Alas, ‘twould seem that you are every bit as unfond of me as ever.” The magus moved forward, but I made no move to stand aside for her. After waiting several seconds for me to stand aside of my own accord, she finally succumbed with an irritated flick of her ear. “May I be welcome as your guest, so that we might speak to one another more easily?”
“So courtesy is not beyond you, given the proper motivation. I am glad to see it.” I stepped aside, opening the door for her. “Be welcome in my dwelling, magus. Though I am uncertain how much I can play the role of host whilst I dwell in another’s home. However, the courtesy is appreciated.” Pity Sunbeam could not bring herself to show any consideration until I forced it ‘pon her.
“I am sure your efforts will suffice.” As she entered, she stepped nearer to me than I cared for, causing her side to brush along my chest, and turned to me with lidded eyes, her voice dropping to a low purr. “And there are some entertainments which are well within your power to offer.”
Ere I could frame an appropriately disgusted response, my daughter let out a loud cough, placing a hoof o’er her mouth. Once the fit stilled, she spoke. “My apologies, I encountered something of such foulness that I nearly lost the possession of my lunch. Mayhaps I am not yet used to the palace air.”
Midnight stepped in behind her mother, gazing up at me and slowly blinking. “Mother is offering to engage in coitus with you, Lady Shadow.” As with most subjects, she spoke of it with unemotional disinterest, as if her mother’s wanton ways were not especially noteworthy. “I thought it best to inform you of such, given Mother’s fondness for speaking indirectly on such matters.”
I struggled to think of a proper response to hearing such words from a young filly’s mouth. Finally, I decided on the safety of formal courtesy. “I had gathered what she intended, but I thank thee for thy consideration in informing me so.” I glanced to my daughter, eager to have her control the situation ere it grew more awkward. Gale answered me with a smile that made it plain she found some amusement in my current plight.
Midnight stared at me unblinkingly for several seconds, then turned to Gale. “Mother has given me permission to play with thee, assuming thou and thine own mother do not find it objectionable. I had hoped we might have a game of chess.” Gale nodded her assent, and the filly trotted to her side, but paused to look back towards myself and her mother. “If the two of you are to engage in coitus whilst we are at play, I ask that you do so in manner which will not disturb us.”
“There is little danger of that,” I assured the filly. My response seemed to satisfy her, and she departed, leaving me in her mother’s company. Once our daughters had removed themselves from the room, I turned upon the former archmagus. “Your daughter is far too young to know of such things, let alone speak of them so plainly.”
Sunbeam met my gaze levelly, showing not the slightest hint of shame. “Midnight’s education is my responsibility, both in matters of magic and in politics. Surely you are aware of the power of the bedchamber in political matters—your own contemporary in the ephorate was quick enough to use her own foalbearing capacity to gain friends and allies within Pegasopolis, yet you named Bright Charger as friend and ally readily enough ere war separated you. And I am to be despised for acting similarly. Alas, ‘twould seem thou art a hypocrite as well as a stubborn fool.”
“Though she be my enemy now, Bright Charger is still your better in every way save loyalty,” I growled at the magus. “Do not think to compare yourself to her.”
“Have a care with such words, Shadow.” The magus stepped further into my rooms, arranging herself on a divan and kindling the fireplace. “Given the current climate, ‘tis unwise to speak so fondly of your current enemies. Polaris already undermines you by saying your loyalty to Celestia is less than absolute. and there are enough who give his words credence without any evidence supporting them.”
“Let them say what they will.” I glared at the magus, daring her to challenge my words. “I am not ashamed to be of Pegasopolis, nor do I deny the bonds I share with my homeland or my former comrades. I only regret that they have lost their way, and pray that they regain their senses and swear loyalty to the Commander once more.”
“A fine bit of fantasy,” she rejoined, “but from what I have seen, stubborn pride is an affliction all too common amongst the ephorate. ‘Tis far too late to hope that they regain their senses, as you put it. In truth, I should be surprised if any of them chose to bend the knee, rather than insist ‘pon death before surrender.” She paused, then fixed a piercing gaze ‘pon me. “Tell me, are you prepared to kill them, if it should come to that? Can you face them across the battlefield and bring your blades to bear? Cut them down, after all your have shared?”
I misliked the question, not the least because I found it more difficult to answer than it ought to have been. I knew that I was committed to my current course, and that I could not remain loyal to Celestia without fighting those I had once named allies. On an intellectual level, I was fully aware of the consequences of that, and had accepted them. And yet, when the question was put to me, I felt a moment of hesitation in my heart. ‘Twould be a lie to say that I felt no disquiet at the thought of darkening my blades with the blood of Rightly Doo, Bright Charger, or Steel Striker. Swift Blade, I would feel less concerned about. (3)
3: The fact that she makes no mention of her father in the list of ponies she might have to fight is a rather interesting omission.
Though I said nothing, I suspect my silence was telling enough. “Ah. Mayhaps Polaris was right to have concerns in that matter. Still, I suspect your hesitation will fade once you cloak it properly in duty and honor. That is how you would present it, neigh? Decide your reasons as you will, it matters little to me whether you call it honor or merely drowning your hesitation in bloodlust, so long as the task is done.”
“That is the greatest difference ‘tween us,” I observed. “In our goals, I suspect we are not so distant as I once thought. We both share the Commander’s dream of a unified, peaceful Equestria. One where privilege and status are the result of talent, not shackles restraining it. Is it not so?”
“‘Tis so,” she confirmed.
“Then the greatest difference ‘tween us is not in our goals, but our methods.” I scowled at her. “I believe there are only a few depravities you would not sink to, if you believed such were necessary to achieve your goals. That, simply put, the end result justifies the means used to obtain it. What you fail to grasp is that final outcomes are inevitably affected by the process which produces them.” I shook my head disapprovingly. “The Commander dreams of a nation of conscience. Your crimes cannot give her that; merely a lie.”
“Conscience, is it?” Sunbeam languidly stretched across the divan, not e’en bothering to look towards me. “‘Tis a speech I have heard many times before, and will likely hear many times hence, though more often from Her Majesty’s lips then thine. ‘Tis my experience that many ponies who speak of conscience truly mean weakness. A lack of will and conviction to see to the cruel necessities of life. Let history judge me a monster, if it will, but I shall deliver an Equestria far closer to Her Majesty’s dreams than she could e’er hope to achieve in my absence. To be frank, Her Majesty has high ideals, but lacks the will to see them brought to fruition.”
I prepared to offer my own rejoinder, but an upraised hoof forestalled me. “Pray, Shadow, let us cease this debate and resume it on another day. Much as I enjoy showing the flaws in your antiquated philosophy, we have more pressing business at hoof.” She rose in her seat, turning to properly face me. “What passed in the war council’s meeting?”
I provided her with the desired account, and concluded with my own thoughts on the matter. “I was told Polaris was a fool. ‘Twould seem that information was less than accurate.”
That earned a mocking laugh from Sunbeam. “Oh, he most certainly is a fool, Shadow, but he is the very worst sort of fool: one who knows that he is a fool. He has some talent for politics, and accounts for his foolishness in other matters by employing the services of those wiser than him. And he is ever wary of any trickery from those with superior intellects. ‘Tis likely why he refused alliance with you: he knows you are intelligent, and he is unused to the pegasus perspective. He likely saw you through a courtier’s eyes, and when you did not act the part of a courtier, he became wary of trickery.” She paused, and a faint smirk crossed her lips. “Your obvious pride in believing yourself the better warrior would not have endeared you to him.”
“Neigh, it would not have.” Though I felt it rather unfitting that a mare with Sunbeam Sparkle’s considerable vanity would lecture me on pride. “Regardless, the mercenary he’s employed seems to know his business well enough. Though I still think myself the better choice, I can content myself to Polaris’s command so long as the orders remain as competent as this first operation.”
“Famous Spear has a reputation for results.” Sunbeam paused, tapping her chin. “I should have thought to secure his services ere Polaris managed it. No matter, though. In addition to his skill in the field, he offers another vital advantage: his contacts among the Freeport mercenaries.”
“We have no need of cutthroats and brigands for hire.” I made little effort to hide the contempt in my voice. “I can respect Famous Spear’s accomplishments o’er the course of his career, but I am glad that he was hired only in his own right, rather than as the first of many blades-for-hire.”
“Quite so,” Sunbeam agreed. “Leaving aside the matter of the mercenaries’ likely conduct and the expense of hiring them, there are the political concerns. Importing foreign mercenaries in the midst of a civil war does create a rather poor impression. At best, our enemies will declare us too weak to fight without foreign aid. At worst, the rebels would claim our cause was beholden to foreign aid, and did not represent the will of the common pony.”
Sunbeam waved a hoof, as if discarding a bit of rubbish. “Still, the contacts are useful. Some lesser aid can be had, and we retain the option should it become strategically prudent, while denying any chance to the rebels to do the same. Not that I expect the rebels would be eager to consort with mercenaries or pirates—they have e’en more to lose from being seen as dependent upon foreign aid than we do. The existing government at least has the virtue of being a known quantity, while the rebels are yet defining how they shall be seen by Equestria. However, just because ‘tis not their optimal strategy does not mean they will not pursue it.”
“I think Rightly wise enough to avoid making such an error.” Though mayhaps Sunbeam would be right that my comment came at least partly from a desire to speak well of one I was still fond of, ‘twould be unwise to underestimate our enemies. “In truth, I think it unlikely that e’en the earth pony militias the rebels are taking for their own will be used for anything beyond rear area duties. Ground forces would deny the clans one of their greatest advantages: the mobility of a flying army. The pride of the clans would also be a factor, as they would prefer victory without the need for allies.”
“Then that is a weakness we can exploit,” Sunbeam concluded. She slowly stretched across the divan, her eyes fixed upon mine the entire time. The cloak she customarily wore to make her status as a magus shifted, revealing the mark of a phoenix emblazoned on her flank. I’ll not speak of what she did with her tail, save to say that certain indecencies were exposed. In response, I averted my eyes. Rather than seem perturbed by my clear disinterest, she offered a low, throaty chuckle. “The devan can fit two ponies easily enough, Shadow. So long as you must endure my company, why not enjoy it?”
“I would find no joy in sharing your company, regardless of our activities.” I glowered at her, and pointedly distanced myself from her. “Dare I ask why you offer yourself so brazenly when ‘tis clear I’ve no interest in what you offer? Are you a creature of such perverse lusts that you must constantly hurl yourself at the nearest pony?”
“Oh, hardly. A common trollop cannot advance so high in the courts of Canterlot.” She let her eyes rest on mine, and slowly returned herself to a semblance of decency. “As for why I would bed you, I can name a dozen reasons for it. I suppose I could begin with the usual flattery about your appearance, but I suspect you would care little for it, and there are far comelier ponies to be found elsewhere. In truth, ‘tis simply a matter of politics: I dislike having allies who have no bonds to me beyond mere pragmatic interest. You may work with me for the war’s duration, but as soon as there is no greater cause I will be your enemy again. However...” She rose from the divan, slowly approaching me. “I have taken your measure well enough to know something of your character. I do not think you could bed a pony and not think differently of them afterwards.”
My lips curled back in disgust at her words. “Then ‘tis naught but another form of control?”
“Control. Power. Yes, that is one of my goals. You would not believe me e’en if I tried to deny it.” She advanced further, moving nearer to me than I cared for. “Whether as Her Majesty’s favored ephor or not, there is much value to be had from binding you to my cause. Once the war is won, ‘twill be us who decide the nature of the peace that follows it. If we stand as one, Celestia would heed our words. We could reshape Equestria in whatever manner pleased us. And from there, our houses would continue to carry on that legacy. Imagine a thousand years of Kickers and Sparkles, hoof-in-hoof, ruling o’er Equestria in Celestia’s name. ’Tis a most pleasing image, neigh?”
I stepped away from the mare, glaring at her. “I care not for such things. I seek only to serve the Commander in whatever capacity she thinks best.”
“Ah, but she ought to think it best to give you full command of our armies,” Sunbeam countered. “Do not try to deny your ambitions, for they are plain to see. We are much the same, you and I. We both seek power, so that we might make a better Equestria.”
Her words filled me with disgust. “I am nothing like you.”
She frowned at my refusal, and her eyes narrowed. “There is one other reason I would enjoy bedding you. I think I would enjoy watching your arrogant pride crumble. That certainty of your own superiority. ‘Twould be indescribably fulfilling to reduce you to naught but a mindless beast of lust and pleasure, writhing beneath my attentions and crying my name in ecstasy.”
I was sorely tempted to strike the mare for her lewd remarks, but I suspect ‘twould only encourage her. I could plainly see that ‘twas her intention to provoke and unsettle me, and I would not give her the satisfaction of doing so. Instead, I opted for a calm yet direct approach. “Is there some particular reason you are being especially unpleasant? I am attempting to cooperate with you for the good of all Equestria, and this is how I am to be treated? Or are you simply testing the limits of our arrangement?”
“Mostly the latter,” Sunbeam admitted with an uncaring shrug. “Though I will confess a certain level of personal distaste, and considerable frustration with your stubborn pride at the moment. Do bear in mind that had you accepted my earlier overtures, much of our current troubles might have been avoided.” She let out a contemptuous snort. “You hold your honor so close to your breast that you are blind to necessity. How much might you have achieved, how many lives might you have saved, if you were willing to show a touch more flexibility in your thoughts?” One of her ears flicked in irritation. “I see now why Her Majesty is so fond of you. Both of you share an insistence on doing what is ‘right.’ I am sure all the ponies who will die for your choices would be pleased to know that you can sleep comfortably in your beds, secure in your smug certainty of your own moral superiority.”
“Fine words from a mare who knows neither honor nor morality,” I growled.
“Tell me, what is honor?” She turned her back on me, angrily pacing about the room. “‘Tis one of the first lessons I was taught during my academic studies: all terms must have a clear and simple definition. And yet, so many ponies insist upon dealing with intangibles of ‘honor’ and ‘morality.’ As if the terms had any meaning at all. I believe in results, and the results of your honor are lacking.”
“And yet, you would bed me if I allowed it,” I rejoined.
She answered with a sneer. “Do not flatter yourself that I do it for any reason other than politics. A few minutes of discomfort at your amateur fumbling is a small price to pay for the gains I could have from securing your loyalty.” She paused, and then sighed and reluctantly waved the matter aside. “However, I did not come here intending a quarrel, and we have wasted enough time at it.”
“That we have,” I allowed. I considered the mare for a moment, then reluctantly nodded. “I do not like you, but we have troubles enough without dissension within our own ranks. As I will follow Polaris so long as his command seems passably competent, so I will attempt to find some accommodation that allows us to interact with one another peaceably.”
“Well said.” The magus offered a respectful nod. “You said Polaris has placed you in charge of training our new recruits? That being the case, I am sure I could persuade a few of my fellow magi to volunteer their time to aid in such endeavours. Though Polaris intends to take the bulk of our magical might with him, some will remain to secure our capital. Shockingly enough, most of those left behind are my friends and allies. Myself included, of course.”
Polaris was nothing if not consistent. ‘Twould seem that he intended to leave anypony who might be in a position to usurp his glory far from the battlefield. It seemed there was nothing for it but to endure his orders. If naught else, forging a new army would make a fine start on actually winning the war. Polaris’s force would, by his own admission, merely stymie the efforts of the rebels and win a few minor victories for symbolic purposes. If Famous Spear’s counsel continued to prove so apt, Polaris would likely allow his political opponents to join him in the field once his own position was secured, and our full strength was ready.
“Naturally, the new Archmagus of Canterlot has assigned me a number of tasks intended to keep me far too busy to plot against her.” Sunbeam let out a darkly amused chuckle. “Or at least, that was her intention. It seems she has rather underestimated my abilities. Might I offer you a boon, in recognition of our new understanding with one another?” She waved a hoof over my blades and armor. “Since you will not be having any use for your wargear in the immediate future, I will see to its improvement. The spellwork on them is competent, but I could make it far better.”
“That would be appreciated, though I would ask that you inform me of any alterations you make beyond simple improvements.” I had no doubts that a magus of Sunbeam’s skill could substantially improve upon the rather simple spellwork ‘pon my arms and armor. A keener blade and a breastplate that could resist a harder blow were always welcome, though I would have to ask Copper to check my armor for hidden traps or unwelcome surprises once Sunbeam had finished her work. Though I did not judge outright betrayal likely, I would not be surprised if she prepared some hidden spell as insurance ‘gainst the possibility that I might become her enemy.
“Very well then.” The mare looked over my armor. “Might I offer my aid in removing your gear? As I understand it, plate is far more easily removed with another’s aid.”
“I accept, on the condition that you not use the opportunity to make any lewd and unwelcome gestures, acts, or remarks.”
“Have some faith in me, Shadow.” Her horn lit as she set to undoing one of the straps on my armor. “We are allies, are we not?”
I had some difficulty finding rest that evening. Though the day had been busy enough to leave my body weary, my mind was still very much astir with thoughts of all that occurred o’er the course of the day. Though the beds in Canterlot were far too soft for my tastes, such was normally not a pressing issue when sleep beckoned. This night, however, I could not find a position that pleased me, and always thoughts of the war and my place in it lingered within my mind.
Sunbeam had accused me of hubris. Much as I misliked the accusation, I found it troublingly difficult to disprove. Had I not been utterly certain that I and I alone could properly lead Equestria’s armies? That if Polaris had the position, it could only be the product of error or deceitful manipulation? Yet he seemed to have the task well in hoof, other than minding the needs of his own pride. I was hardly in a position to criticize another for falling prey to hubris.
E’en in the matter of leaving myself and Crossguard in Canterlot, there were reasons for it. I myself had noted that Crossguard was too aged to risk enduring the hardships of a campaign in the field, and my own clan could do much to help ready our armies for fighting ‘gainst the rebels. Much as the idea of remaining in the capital while other ponies fought and died sat ill with me, mayhaps this was the better role for me. Training our levies would bear far richer fruit than attempting to employ my clan in the field. As Polaris had noted, we could hardly take to the skies ‘gainst the combined might of all the clans. Polaris’s current plan relied on spellcasting, something my ponies were in short supply of.
After trying in vain for more than an hour to take my rest, I gave the effort up as a lost cause and rose from my bed. If I was to be awake, I could at least find some productive use for my time. I attempted to find a suitable book to occupy my mind, but it seemed that while I was not tired enough to sleep, I was far too weary for Lyequinegus or Platrot. I have found that often the mind tires more swiftly than the body.
Given that, I chose to bring my body to an equal state of exhaustion. Though I might have merely run through some basic exercises within my rooms until my body demanded a return to its bed, such had little appeal to me. I can name no specific reason for it, ‘twas simply a passing preference. Likely ‘twas that I had not yet fully accustomed myself to sleeping within buildings of stone. Though I’d taken my rest in the palace and other ground dwellings many times in the past, I was only truly at home in the clouds. Though I could normally manage the unfamiliarity of the ground well enough, when my mind was already troubled by other matters, it weighed far more heavily ‘pon me. I felt an urge to see the sky, mayhaps e’en spread my wings and fly.
I walked the palace corridors nodding in passing to the guards watching over the sleeping palace as I passed them. Though I had no particular destination in mind, my hooves carried me towards the gardens, seemingly of their own accord. That seemed as good a place as any to go, and I could no doubt find some relatively private corner of them in which to practice maneuvers with my wing-blades. Though I like to think myself a skilled warrior, that was the product of a lifetime of training, and must be honed at regular intervals.
Ere I could find a suitable location for my practice, I came across a sight that put all thoughts of martial pursuits from my mind. Commander Celestia had secreted herself within one of the many private corners of the gardens, and my own search for a place of privacy had brought me upon hers. (4)
4: This does seem like a bit of a coincidence. I wonder if perhaps Celestia used some sort of spell to subconsciously summon Shadow to her location . That would be a useful trick. Or maybe she just spotted Shadow going out for a walk, and put herself in Shadow’s path.
The Commander sat beneath several trees, looking up at a gap within the branches towards the night sky. When I followed the direction of her gaze I saw the moon, the Mare in the Moon looming especially large this night. If her thoughts were as I suspected, then I had no right to intrude ‘pon her in this time of utmost privacy. As I would not wish to be disturbed whilst visiting my father’s grave, so I would not disturb another mourning lost family.
I turned to depart, but I had been too slow in doing so. Though the Commander did not turn her eyes from the moon, she spoke to me. “Stay, Shadow. I would have words with thee.”
“As you wish, Commander.” I found a suitable place in the grass, distant enough that I would not disturb her whilst still remaining near enough to be at her disposal. “I apologize for intruding on your private moments.”
“‘Tis not an intrusion if I welcome thy presence,” Celestia answered easily. Despite her kind words, she made no further moves to acknowledge me.
Silence weighed heavily on the small clearing, Celestia staring unblinkingly at the moon whilst I struggled to find the words to speak with her. I did not think it proper to heap my own troubles ‘pon her when she clearly was already occupied, but neither did I wish to call attention to that struggle. However, there was little choice to be had in the matter. I gently cleared my throat to call her attention, and then spoke my mind. “Do you miss her, Commander?”
“Every day.” She sighed, slowly shaking her head. “She is my sister, but the word seems so inadequate to describe all that she is to me. Such is the nature of immortality, Shadow.” She waved a hoof towards the city proper. “Every single pony in this city, in all Equestria, will be dead in a hundred years. Fallen to the inevitable march of time. New generations will be born, but they too shall die in time. Luna was the only one who could truly walk along the pathways of life at my side.” She let out a humorless chuckle. “I imagine I sound quite the spoiled fool to most, bitterly complaining of my immortality when every mortal pony fears death’s embrace. Only Luna would truly understand the source of my disquiet. The pain of knowing ‘twould be wiser to remain distant and unattached, yet being unable to harden my heart ‘gainst the inevitable loss of all my little ponies.”
I found myself at a loss for words. I had not seen this aspect of the Commander’s character before, and I found it unsettling. ‘Twas no secret that she was immortal, or at least ageless, yet I had not thought of the isolation that would inevitably inflict ‘pon her. Her sister had been her one constant companion, and now e’en she was lost. “I am sorry for your loss, Commander. Though I confess I do not know if I can truly grasp the scope of it.”
“Neigh, thou canst not.” There was a bitterness to the words I had not expected to hear, but a second later she shook her head and offered a small, apologetic smile. “I am sorry for that. Thou didst only seek to offer thy consideration, and I should not seem so ungrateful for it.” She let forth a worn, tired sigh. “I should be more mindful of thine intentions, ere I give vent to my troubles. Such is my station. I am eternal, and ere Luna is returned to me, death seems my only companion throughout the years. Thy words cannot undo all my pains, but I should appreciate that thou wouldst wish to do so.”
“I am glad my words have offered you some comfort then, Commander.” The entire discussion had taken something of a strange turn. I would not have imagined I would find myself comforting the Commander o’er her lost sister and the isolation of immortality. To me, Luna was naught but a distant figure I’d heard of from the clan’s elders in my childhood, but for the Commander a century was no great length of time. The pain was likely as fresh to her as that of Rightly’s lost wife.
“Aye, I am glad for thy presence.” Commander Celestia offered me a small, sad smile, then her gaze returned once more to the moon. “My thoughts have grown far heavier as of late. Mine own subjects rising ‘gainst me in rebellion, and marching under my sister’s flag. E'en with thine aid, I cannot help but wonder how Luna's presence would have altered things—forestalled, or e'en averted the blunders leading to this schism 'tween me and my little ponies.” A mournful whisper escaped her lips. “I wonder if mayhaps ‘twould have been better had she proven the victor when we fought. Mayhaps her madness would break once I lay defeated before her, and I do not think she would have allowed matters to degenerate to this point.”
My eyes grew wide in shock at those words. That she would question the wisdom in sealing Nightmare Moon was unthinkable. “Commander, not all of the fault for this war lies with you. My fellow ephors acted foolishly, Apple Tree’s murder was done by another earth pony, and Sunbeam Sparkle did little to calm the rising tensions.”
“Thou speakest truly, many have erred.” The Commander’s gaze did not waver from the moon. “Yet that does not absolve me of that measure of the blame which is mine.”
“'Tis so, aye.” I could not deny the truth of those words, but I found it most troubling to consider them. I knew that Commander Celestia had erred in her handling of the crisis, and held my own beliefs about her handling of the war as well. And yet, I had sacrificed much in the name of loyalty to her. ‘Twould be far easier if I could tell myself that Commander Celestia was a perfect ruler, and utterly blameless in this conflict. That I sundered my clan in the name of a flawed, imperfect mare was a far less reassuring belief than simply telling myself that all her enemies were wicked, evil creatures.
The matter lingered in my mind, and I found myself ill-disposed towards further conversation. For her part, the Commander remained silent, her eyes resting on the moon so firmly that I wondered if she had entirely forgotten my presence. Mayhaps we should end this chance encounter, lest we trouble one another further. “Shall I leave you in privacy, Commander?”
“Neigh, I would have thee remain.” She at last turned away from the moon, facing me properly. If I noticed that her eyes had moistened during the time she gazed upon her sister’s orb, I did not think it worthy of calling attention to. “I have a boon to ask of thee, this night.”
I answered her without hesitation. “You shall have it, Commander.”
“Two boons, then.” A faint smile ghosted across her lips. “I have said before that we need not stand ‘pon formality when we are in private. Now is a time when I have need of such. I would have thine ear and discretion, not the reassurances of a subordinate. Much weighs on my mind, but in this time of mistrust I find myself reluctant to put my thoughts to quill and ink.”
“Very well then.” I approached as near as I could to her without drawing indecently close; despite her words to treat the matter informally, she was yet my Commander. “I’ll not speak of this to any other, e’en my daughter.” (5)
5: And yet, she includes it in her memoirs. Presumably, Celestia felt comfortable with allowing this conversation to be published for public consumption forty years after the fact. While there’s nothing in the memoirs saying so, I can’t imagine Shadow bringing up a private conversation with Celestia without getting her permission first.
Her horn lighted, and the sounds of the city at night dimmed, as if muffled by a thick blanket. No doubt ‘twould similarly shroud our own conversation, shielding us from any curious passers-by. “I fear myself a fool, at times. I mourn my sister, but this is not a pain unique to me. Many have lost loved ones—among the ephorate Bright Charger and Rightly Doo yet mourn the loss of his wife, her sister. Yet I find them the better ponies: for where they endured this among her kin and ne’er swayed from their duty, I find I have withdrawn myself. For a century and more I have only seen a select few of my children—and precious few who did not reside in Canterlot. This conflict feels less improper to me, and if not retributive, then a natural reaction for mourning too deeply and too long.”
I would never have thought that she felt such doubts, for in public she always wore the mask of calm composure. And yet, there was an unfortunate truth to her words. I sought to offer what reassurance I could. “Mourning those who are lost is a natural thing, and not a cause for shame.”
She shook her head, putting aside my assurances. “‘Tis so, but mourning so deeply that I shirk my duties is unacceptable. If the Ephorate had remained content to merely remove me as Commander, t'would have been enough—aye, e'en just. I was absent as both Commander of Pegasopolis and as Chancellor of the earth ponies. If I cannot admit to myself what entire populations see plain as my sister's visage on the moon, how shall I better myself as their head? What right would I have to e'en claim such a position?” Her shoulders slumped, and she let forth a troubled sigh. “If only war had not been offered, I would recuse myself for a time to reflect and learn, and return a better leader to them.”
“All leaders have erred, Commander. The only way one can avoid it is to never lead to begin with.” My eyes moved east, towards the battlefront. “Would that circumstances were better, and we had the luxury of time to learn from those errors. As it is, the war must be won first.”
“Aye, the war.” Her shoulders slumped further. “Let us see how many of my own ponies must die as the price for my errors. Then, maybe, I will have a reprieve to contemplate them.” Her gaze turned once more to the moon, but there was a different character to it now. Where before I saw a pony in mourning, now her slumped shoulders leant her an entirely different demeanour. Not e’en the ethereal rippling of her mane could conceal the circles under her eyes, or the way her wings hung limply from her sides. ‘Twas as if all the many years of her life pressed down ‘pon her. She looked old, and tired.
I hesitantly stepped nearer to her. “Commander? Are you well?”
“Pray, call me Celestia. I do not feel especially commanding at this time.” Her gaze dropped from the moon, as if the mere effort of raising her eyes was too much for her to manage any longer. “I am tired, Shadow. So very tired. I have thought more than once of contacting the rebels and surrendering my crown and all other titles to them. Let the mortals rule themselves, for I am weary of ruling o’er them. Neigh, more than merely that; I am simply weary of all life has.” A joyless smile briefly graced her face. “I think Sunbeam or Polaris would find far more joy in the crown than I ever will, and the other races managed well enough in my absence.”
I stepped to her side, near enough to touch her if I so desired. “The burden of leadership is a heavy one. And you have carried it far longer than any other.”
“As you say.” She offered me a smile, though there was no joy in it. “The fruits of my labors taste more bitter with each generation. Mayhap 'tis why I secluded myself in a court which brought me comfort, and normalcy. There is a steadiness and a predictability to my court in Canterlot. Ponies rise, and ponies fall, but the families, factions, and causes remain the same. Constant enough to be reassuring, yet there is enough variation in the politics to stave off ennui. Plus the odd project, like my efforts to redeem Sunbeam.” She sighed and shook her head. “Removing myself from the other pony tribes was a mistake. I remember now, more and more, that there are other sources of light and hope.” Her eyes rested on me as she spoke that last.
Without conscious thought, one of my hooves moved towards her. I barely halted its progress ere it reached her. ‘Twas a simple matter of basic equine instinct, to offer the comfort of another pony’s touch to one in pain. But she was not a mere pony, she was my commander. There were lines of propriety that could not be crossed. “Commander, I...”
The Commander noted my hoof’s movements, and after a long hesitation gave a small nod. “Have I not asked thee to call me Celestia, Shadow?”
“Aye, you have.” The Commander gave me a pointed look, and I amended my statement to accommodate her desire for informality. “Thou hast.” As her gaze yet lingered on me, I slowly brought up a hoof and rested it on her shoulder, earning a small, approving nod from her. As I touched her, I could not fail to note the heat and the raw sense of power radiating from her body. ‘Tis a thing that is hard to put into words; it must be experienced. “I hope there is some comfort to be had for thee, Comm—Celestia.”
“Canst thou not see that I have already found the comfort I sought?” Though her smile was yet weary, there was genuine warmth in it. “For that, I thank thee.”
Once more I felt ill at ease, but this time because of the praise offered. I am duly proud of my skills as a warrior, but this was something else entirely. “Truly? I am not one who is skilled in bringing comfort.”
“And yet, I am comforted by thee.” She leaned down and bestowed a single kiss ‘pon my brow. “Mayhaps what thou hast given seems a small and inconsequential gesture to thee, yet thy support in these times is a gift for which I would trade my crown. Thine ear and discretion, e'en moreso.”
Her clear affection and kind words produced a faint heat in my cheeks, the likes of which I’d not felt since I was a young mare. “I have done nothing to earn such high praise, Commander.”
“Art thou questioning thy Commander, Shadow?” Her smile took on a jestful quality, and the air of weariness that had hung o’er her faded somewhat. “I am thy Commander, am I not? Well, thy Commander says that thou hast earned all the praise she gives thee. Let that be the end of it, lest thou forceth me to punish thee most terribly for thine insubordination. Perhaps set thee in the stocks for a day, as an example to all Canterlot?”
“That being the case, I will gladly accept all offered commendations.” I was heartened to see her old humor returned to her, and sought to encourage it. “You have been kind to me, Commander. I am duly grateful for it. However, if your kindness could land me in the stocks, I shudder to think of the nature of your wrath. I do not envy our enemies, once you take the field.”
Rather than encourage her good mood, my jest caused the smile to die on her lips. She was silent for some time, and when she spoke once more the weariness had returned to her voice, and seemed to run e’en deeper than before. “I will not do battle ‘gainst the rebels, Shadow. E’en attending the war council is a trial for me. To actually shed the blood of my little ponies...” She shook her head. “Neigh. That is not a thing I could bring myself to do.” She held up a hoof to forestall any answer I might give. “Pray, do not ask my reasons or attempt to persuade me. ‘Tis not that I do not wish to hear thy words, or would not trust thee with mine own reasons for refusing to do direct violence, but not now. This night has already been a long and painful one, and to speak of blood and death on it ... neigh. Ask it of me another time, if thou must have an answer.”
“My apologies, Commander. I meant no offense.”
“I know thou didst not,” she answered her voice gentle and understanding, but still undercut by that same sense of exhaustion. I briefly wondered if she truly had taken no offense at my remark, or simply conceded the matter in order to be done with the conversation. As it was, her eyes returned once more to the moon, and there was a distance to her words when next she spoke. “If thou wilt excuse me, I think I would prefer my privacy, now. Do not worry for me, I do not require as much sleep as mortalkind. Thou, however, must rest and be ready for what is to come tomorrow. Fare thee well, Shadow.”
“And you, Commander.” I departed the gardens and returned to my bed, but sleep was still long in coming that night.
Sunbeam Sparkle proved true to her word, returning my blades and panoply more quickly than I would have expected. My prior experience told me that enchanters were often far slower in displaying their arts—I had not expected Sunbeam to finish her work ere the week was done. Perhaps ‘twas her intent to impress me by completing her work swiftly. If so, ‘twas a wasted effort. I had never doubted her skills with the magical arts. That was why, as soon as I could decently do so, I made my way to Copper’s home. I did not wear the armor or blades yet: a mare who would use passion to manipulate me would likely be just as quick to do so with magic. (1)
1: Shadow’s wrong on this point, since mind control is against the Laws of Magic, and by all accounts Sunbeam carefully followed the letter of the law (though not necessarily its spirit). Granted, mind control was just one of many nasty things Sunbeam could’ve done, and she wouldn’t hesitate to play with gray areas of the law. Ironically, Sunbeam spent most of her later years closing many of the very legal loopholes she used in her youth. Apparently, she didn’t want anypony copying her playbook.
When I knocked ‘pon Copper’s door, however, ‘twas not he who answered it. The mare in question looked somewhat younger than myself, though only by a few years. Given that this was likely Copper’s wife, I critically noted the slackness of her muscles and a few hints of fat along her sides and legs. Nothing excessive, but she had the build of a pony who did not exercise regularly or train in the warrior’s arts. Though her coat was a fetching enough shade of peach, her mane and tail showed the mild neglect of a mare who is not o’erly worried about her appearance, with the yellow streaks carelessly arranged among her light blue hair. Her dark grey eyes were a poor match to the rest of her coloring as well. Copper certainly could have found a more fitting mare.
Shortly after making that assessment, I realized the unpleasantness of it. I confess that I may have judged her wanting on account of mine own history with Copper. Likely I resented her for wedding a stallion whose company I would have enjoyed. E’en though I did not love him, Copper might have proven a great comfort as I faced the trials of settling in Canterlot and the burden of leadership. Such envy was unworthy of me, and I did my best to cast it aside.
Though the mare did not possess the sort of beauty that inspired poets, she was certainly not foul to look upon, and there was an approachable, unassuming quality to her. In any case, physical appearances were only one factor—Sunbeam Sparkle might be finer to look upon, but the foulness in her heart more than offset that.
Copper’s wife scanned me, likely making her own assessment. Copper had no doubt spoken of me and our past relations at some point, if only in passing. “Shadow Kicker, I presume?” She looked me over once more, then made a faint noise in the back of her throat, likely having reached some conclusion of her own regarding me. “My husband is out, but I expect his return ere too much longer. If you wish, I could convey a message to him, or offer you the hospitality of our home until his return.” Though her words were polite enough, there was a hint of strain in her tone.
“I will accept your hospitality, then.” The mare stood aside, and I entered her home, carrying my wargear with me. “I would ask a favor of him regarding the objects in my possession. Though I pray I do not impose upon your hospitality for too long, I would not have my arms and armor unready for the battlefield, especially in a time of war.” As I entered the home’s waiting area, a thought struck me. “My name is known to you, but I confess that while Copper has told me yours, ‘twas some time ago and in the midst of a long and trying day. Might I have it once more?”
The mare frowned slightly, then offered her hoof. “Morning Star. ‘Tis a pleasure to meet you at last.” I shook her hoof, and resisted the urge to attempt to o’erwhelm her with my superior physical prowess. Once we had finished the exchange, her eyes turned to the armor and blades I bore. “Might I ask what precisely your business with my husband is? ‘Tis possible I might be able to see to the matter myself and save you a good deal of waiting. I presume it has something to do with the fact that you are carrying your armor rather than wearing it?”
“It does,” I confirmed.
A faint smile quirked at Morning’s lips. “Excellent, then. Copper consults me on such matters when they come before him. ‘Tis a division of labor, much like in a guild. He is the battlemage, while my talents are in scholarship, research, and enchantment.” Her smile faded, and her voice grew troubled. “‘Tis likely why he shall be off to war, whilst I remain in Canterlot, tending a library and an enchanting room.” She fell silent for a time, then shook her head, as if to dispel the troubling thoughts, and extended a hoof towards my blades. “If I may, Lady Ephor?”
I hesitated only a moment before allowing it, watching as she lifted my gear in a dark grey magical aura which matched the color of her eyes. Though there was some awkwardness ‘tween us on account of our relations past and present with Copper, I bore the mare no ill will. If anything, I wished her well, if only for Copper’s sake. Regardless, I certainly had no intention of threatening her marriage. What Copper and I had shared was naught but the idle pleasure of youth, and not e’en worth considering when compared to the commitment of a marriage.
The unicorn mare looked over one of my wing blades for a few moments, then grin quirked at her lips. “Sunbeam’s work, is it not?”
“It is,” I confirmed. “You recognize her craftsmareship?”
“Her affinity for fire does tend to express itself in her spellwork.” Morning turned the weapon about within her magical grasp, inspecting it from all angles. “Though the hidden enchantment that makes the weapon incapable of piercing Sunbeam’s flesh is also a rather strong indicator.” She waved a hoof towards my armor. “I would also wager that in addition to the strengthening and heat resistance enchantments, your armor is now completely permeable to Sunbeam’s magic.”
“Ah.” Though I was unsurprised to learn of Sunbeam’s duplicity, I was yet offended by it. I had offered the mare a chance to show a better nature, and all it had done was reveal the wickedness that dwelt within her heart.
Morning Star must have read my mood, for the mare let out a soft chuckle. “Do not take it as a personal insult, Lady Ephor. I do not recall ever seeing an item crafted by Sunbeam that did not include a contingency enhancement to prevent it being used against her. The mare is rather thorough in her paranoia.” Morning paused, tapping a hoof on her chin. “Though considering how readily she makes enemies, perhaps there is a measure of prudence to it. More than one magus has met an untimely end at the hooves of her own works.”
Given that I had more than once considered putting my blade to Sunbeam’s throat, and had nearly slain her on one occasion, I suppose I could not entirely fault the mare for taking measures ‘gainst me. However, acknowledging the tactical prudence of it did not make me care for the idea of hidden traps within my wargear any more than it did before. That is not to mention that the enchantments intended to defend her from any aggression on my part would also leave me vulnerable to attack, should she wish to end me. More than that, a warrior’s equipment is almost as important as their body, insofar as battle is concerned. What she had done was slightly less offensive than poisoning me.
“I think she’s actually a bit fond of you,” Morning remarked. “None of the emergency countermeasures she put on your gear are lethal. Or perhaps she has simply gotten better at hiding the lethal traps.” She studied my armor for a time longer, then chuckled to herself. “Alas, ‘tis the latter.”
“I am unsurprised.” I glanced out the nearby window, my eyes seeking out the magus’ tower. “Might I ask that you or your husband undo the enchantments that would allow Sunbeam to control me? I would consider it a personal favor.”
“I could see it done easily enough.” Morning looked down at my equipment, then to me. “In exchange, I ask two things. First, that you watch o’er my husband when you share the field with him. Second, that you speak with me candidly and wholly whilst I work. I find that conversing helps me concentrate on my work, and there are things I would discuss with you.”
“It is agreed, then.” So far as prices went, she asked little enough that I did not hesitate to pay it. I suspect ‘twas less a matter of generosity than ‘twas that there was little she could think to ask of me. I would have watched o’er Copper e’en if she had not asked it of me, and I had no objection to becoming better acquainted with his wife.
“Well and good.” The mare took up my armor, tsking at it as she set to work undoing Sunbeam’s trickery. “I see you have already learned the first rule of working alongside Sunbeam Sparkle: never trust her blindly. She is reliable enough, in her own way, but she does not have true friends or allies. Only desires, and ponies who can help her in achieving them.” Morning paused, tapping a hoof ‘gainst my armor. “Still, there is a reliable predictability to her. Her end goals are consistent, and the means by which she pursues them follow a certain logic.”
“Mayhaps so, but I find that logic deeply unpleasant.” I scowled, thinking back to her most recent attempt to bed me. “I find associating with her to be almost unbearable, at times.”
“Frequent association accustoms one to her,” Morning remarked neutrally. She looked over my armor, a thoughtful frown on her face. “To be frank, I think my husband is too willing to o’erlook her faults for the sake of their shared ideals. I know he was eager to arrange an alliance ‘tween the two of you. An effort which, ‘twould seem, has met with some success.”
“I will work alongside her for the good of Equestria,” I allowed. “If nothing else, her reputation as a battle magus is considerable. Still, I have little desire to further her ambitions.”
The mare offered a wordless murmur by way of response, before her magic rippled over my armor. “Ah, she has improved her traps since last I sought to undo them. ‘Twill be interesting.” She worked in silence for a brief time before resuming the conversation. “In truth, I care little for the internal politics of the magi. I find that the constant factional squabbling largely serves only to distract us from our true duties. ‘Twas that which made me a good match for Copper. He needed a mare who held some respect among her peers, and a moderate political position.” She let out a faint snort. “Our marriage lent him a touch more respectability, and assured many moderates that he would not be excessively radical in his reformist tendencies.”
“So ‘twas purely a matter of politics, then?” I had hesitated to say as much myself, lest it seem I was denigrating their marriage.
“Oh, not merely that.” She paused, thoughtfully looking over my breastplate as she considered her words. “We worked together on his spellbook template project, and I found his company enjoyable enough. He was charming and handsome, and e’en though I care little for politics, I was well aware of his position. There are benefits to being the wife of an Archmagus: I have my pick of the best research opportunities, and access to any resources I wish for.” She paused, a contemplative frown on her face. “And though ‘twas not a match borne of love, we have grown fond of one another, o’er the years. We both love our children dearly.”
“I am glad to hear it.” I considered my own words carefully ere I spoke. “I was fond of him as well, in our shared past. But only fond of him.”
Morning Star paused her work for several seconds, then offered a small nod. “I had already surmised as much, given that there was ne’er e’en an attempt at a proper courtship. And fear not, I know him well enough that I do not fear for his loyalty—and if what he has told me of you is true, you would not seek such a thing either.” She let out a wistful sigh, and adjusted one of the greaves on my armor. “Still, there is a part of me that envies the spontaneity of what you shared. With us, it was years ere all the affections shared ‘tween husband and wife did not carry the stiffness of duty and obligation.”
“There is value to a love that endures the test of time,” I assured her, moving to her side as befitted the personal nature of our discussion. “My own experiences in romance have been passionate, but brief.” My mind turned to Rightly once more. ‘Twas not a pleasing thought. “The flame that burns brightest burns fastest. Whereas with you, the foundations were properly lain, and a flame carefully kindled o’er many years.”
“You are kind to say so.” She looked over my armor, then gave a satisfied nod and shifted her attention to my wing-blades. “May I ask a personal question?”
“You may.” I had given my word to speak openly with her as the price of her services, so I could hardly refuse her the right to ask any question she cared to, so long as she did not ask that I betray any other oaths.
Thankfully, she did nothing of the sort. Instead her eyes briefly turned to a portrait of herself and Copper. “Do you ever wonder what would have happened if you and he had travelled the road not taken? Copper still speaks fondly of you, and ‘tis plain enough that the affection is mutual.” She quickly held up a hoof to forestall any response. “I am not questioning your honor or his, or implying that either of you would do something inappropriate. I am simply ... curious.”
I retrieved my armor, looking it over as I considered her question. “Copper and I? Together?” I turned the helmet about in my hooves as I thought on it. “Aye, I have. Only on rare occasions, and as an idle flight of fancy. Much the same for other ponies with whom I was close.” ‘Twas no surprise that Rightly had occupied my thoughts greatly of late.
Morning’s eyes held mine, and I gathered that further elaboration was desired. “Copper and I enjoyed our time together well enough, but I think we were naught but good friends, and ‘twas naught but the passions of youth that made it more than that. Besides which, anything more than a brief liaison would have been difficult to maintain, given our stations and desires. My ambitions bound me to Pegasopolis, and his to Unicornia. Neither of us were enamored enough of the other to put ambition aside.” Another thought came to mind, and I offered the mare a rare smile. “Also, I suspect I would be quite deaf in one ear if I regularly shared a bed with him.”
That bit of wit drew a loud snort from the mare. “So he didst snore e'en in his youth?”
“Aye, he did.” I snorted as well as memories came to mind. “‘Pon first hearing it, I thought I feared that our tent was shortly to be assaulted by an especially amorous bear.”
His wife chortled. “Our first night together found me wondering if there was an unscheduled thunderstorm. Thankfully, I managed to learn a muffling spell, thus maintaining our domestic harmony.” The two of us shared a laugh at Copper’s expense, though Morning was quick to offer a few words in her husband’s defense. “Still, he is a good stallion. And I did eventually succeed in teaching him to properly clean up after himself.”
“I am duly impressed then. My own efforts at doing so met with little success.” I bowed my head to her, acknowledging the achievement. “Truly, you are a paragon of wifely virtue.”
Morning answered me with a smile. “My thanks to—may we dispense with formality?” I nodded. “My thanks to thee, then.”
Morning was in the midst of regaling me with the tale of one of Copper’s less distinguished moments when the front door opened, and Copper announced his return. He joined us in the lounge with a ready smile on his face, only for it to rapidly disappear once he heard his wife’s words. “Morning! Must you tell Shadow of the unfortunate incident in our laboratory?”
Morning rose from her place and exchanged a brief and chaste kiss with her husband, then offered him an impish smile. “Indeed I must. ‘Tis far too fine a tale to go unshared. ‘Tis a pity I could not arrange to hire a painter to commemorate the state of thy mane. Ne’er before have I seen so many hairs standing on end, though ‘tis a known hazard of working with electricity. The coloration, however, was something far more unique. Despite thy thoughts on the matter, pink did suit thee.”
“Alas.” Copper turned to me, shaking his head resignedly. “Thou seest now the doom that hath come upon me, Shadow? I am wed to a mare who airs my deepest and darkest secrets for all to hear.” When the only response he received from me was laughter, the stallion groaned and rubbed at his temples. “So, thou art in league with her now. Truly, fate is cruel.”
Morning and I exchanged a glance, and our laughter redoubled.
We continued enjoying ourselves at the unfortunate stallion’s expense, whilst he vainly protested his treatment at our hooves. “To think I am treated so cruelly by my own lady wife when I shall shortly be off to war!”
The laughter instantly died on our lips at his words, and Morning slowly rose from her seat and moved to her husband’s side. There was a quiet undertone of barely restrained worry in her voice. “‘Tis come to that time, then?”
“It is,” Copper confirmed with a grave nod, his own gaiety equally gone. “Polaris ... or to be more accurate, Famous Spear, thinks it important we move swiftly, and that all the Archmagi serve as part of the response force. As much for politics as anything else; we cannot muster a full army yet, and our strategy is one of harassment rather than proper engagement. The highest-ranking among the magi must be seen to be present, so that our commitment to the war effort is on display for all whose loyalty has begun to waver.”
“All of the Archmagi?” I frowned at that. “‘Twould leave us none to watch o’er Canterlot, should the rebels steal a march ‘pon us.”
“Polaris will not allow Sunbeam Sparkle to join the army,” Copper answered with a dismissive wave. “Despite her demotion, ‘tis plainly known by all that she is among the best of us. I am still slightly offended that she can cast lightning about nearly as well as I.” He let out an annoyed snort. “Something about manipulating air temperatures to cause an electrical buildup. Though she cannot beat me in my chosen element, she is entirely too skilled at it. Especially when she has her own talents as well. Canterlot will not be unguarded.”
“‘Tis likely so,” I conceded. Though I had not seen any display of Sunbeam’s combat prowess beyond her brief and horrendously mismatched duel with Valiant Doo, ‘twas plain enough that she had the skills needed to be an Archmagus, regardless of her current status. And there were likely other ponies in Canterlot of similar skill, but lacking in the same political status. Polaris and Spear’s strategy focused a great deal on the appearance of strength, while husbanding the reality of it to conceal the fact that we were yet unready for war.
Morning pressed against Copper’s side, and he wrapped a hoof o’er her back. “How long will it be, ere thou must depart?”
“Later today, though we’ve time enough to say a proper farewell.” A half-hearted smile crossed his lips, and he added, “If needs be, I can delay a few hours past the army’s departure, and rejoin them.” Magi do have far swifter ways of travelling than walking.
Morning gave an angry, bitter shake of her head. “Would that I could accompany thee, but I have orders of my own.” She placed a hoof on her husband’s lips. “Yes, I know, I am a far better enchanter than I am a battle-mage, but I would still be at thy side.”
I could quite sympathize with Morning Star’s feelings on the matter. Had I the option of doing so, I would also stand at Copper’s side in the field. Alas, politics and practicality demanded we play separate roles in the war. Though I could see the logic in having my clan aid in readying the army, I still wished to have a place on the battlefield. However, if I were forced to choose ‘tween standing at my clan’s side, or standing at Copper’s ... there was not e’en a choice to be made. Duty o’errode all other concerns.
Copper pulled his wife close, embracing her. “I would have thee remain here, Morning. ‘Tis foul enough that our children must have one parent taken from them.” A troubled frown crossed his face. “And if I should fall, I would—”
“Do not speak of such things,” Morning snapped, though a moment later she sighed and shook her head. “Thou shalt return to me, and to our children. I know it in my heart.” She took one of her husband’s hooves and pressed it to her chest, holding it silently for several seconds before she finally spoke once more. “Come, the children are at the Royal Academy for their lessons, but none would object to an interruption for this.”
“Of course.” Copper turned to me. “Shadow, I beg thy pardon, but I must away. Fare thee well, my friend.”
I nodded to him offering a hoof. “And thee as well, old friend.” He shook it, and we parted ways.
Rather than allow my thoughts to linger on Copper’s departure, I moved to the matter of duty. I was scheduled to meet with Grandmaster Crossguard later that day to discuss our own preparations for training our forces and fortifying the city. As my business centered heavily on the training of new recruits, I retrieved Sergeant Stalwart for the meeting. Given that he frequently o’ersaw the training of my clan’s recruits, I could think of no better pony to see to the preparation of our combined forces.
Despite my efforts to focus, my mind yet lingered on other matters as we approached the Sol Invictus compound. Copper would shortly be facing my former comrades across a battlefield. ‘Twas e’en possible that he might meet Rightly in battle, and that one of them would slay the other. To my shame, I could not bring myself to wholly wish Copper the victor in that contest. ‘Twas far easier to think of hardening my heart ‘gainst the enemies of my Commander than to bring myself to truly believe that ponies I had long named as friends were now naught but enemies.
Were it not for that state of distraction, I like would not have needed Stalwart’s prompting. “M’lady, the compound nears.” He directed my gaze to it, and added. “‘Twould appear there is some disturbance there.”
I followed his gaze, and needed a moment to grasp what had drawn his attention. On my last visit to the Order’s compound, it had been a bustling hub of activity, full of ponies training for battle Now, though there were still many ponies present, there was a stillness o’er the compound. More than that, I could feel a sort of tension in the air. ‘Tis hard to describe precisely what it was I detected: most likely a dozen small things not worth noting individually, but my mind had been trained to recognize the warning signs without conscious thought. Whatever ‘twas I saw, heard, or felt, the conclusion was plain. Violence brewed in the air.
Once we landed in the courtyard, the reasons for it were plain enough. All eyes were fixed upon the center of the courtyard, where stood Polaris’s mercenary commander. I offered Stalwart the likely explanation. “Gale tells me Famous Spear was expelled from the Order. ‘Tis likely he is most unwelcome here.”
“The fact that every other pony in the courtyard is glaring at him as if they would do him violence given the slightest excuse would indicate as much, m’lady,” Stalwart dryly observed. “Curious, that he would set hoof in a place where none desire him.”
“We go where duty takes us.” I landed in the open courtyard, some distance from the brewing storm. “An advisor to the commander of Equestria’s armies has business with the pony in charge of Canterlot’s defenses, regardless of any past history ‘tween them.” I frowned at the scene. “Though one would think that Polaris could have found another for his business here. Unless Famous Spear is merely enjoying the fruits of his new position.”
“He would not be the first to do so.” Stalwart offered polite nods to those ponies nearest us, though they provided little in the way of response. ‘Twould seem their antipathy for the exile had o’erwhelmed the normal courtesy of the ponies of Sol Invictus.
However, Famous Spear seemed unaffected by the glares, and approached us, no doubt hoping to find a welcome from the only ponies present who were not members of the Order. The grizzled mercenary unicorn stopped before me, an uncaring smile on his face as he looked o’er the glaring knights of his old order. “Milady Shadow, ‘tis a pleasure.”
“Likewise.” I was wary of seeming too friendly with the mercenary, both because of his reputation and the fact that we were in the midst of a compound full of ponies who were clearly hostile to him. However, he had offered a courteous greeting, and ‘twould be rude and insulting to refuse to acknowledge him. So, I adopted the tone of perfect, careful neutrality. “How fares the day for you?”
“Well enough, though I fear I am less than welcome here.” He directed a pointed look to the many knights in the courtyard. “Still, ‘tis not half so bad as the time I was captured by pirates, and within a few months of that I was captaining the vessel.” He looked to his former comrades, then snorted. “I somehow doubt I shall enjoy similar luck here. ‘Twould seem that the circumstances of my departure have not yet been forgotten, or forgiven.”
“Indeed they have not.” Grandmaster Crossguard strode forward from the crowd. Unlike the rest of his order, he showed no open hostility towards the mercenary. Instead, there was an air of weary disappointment about him as he looked at his former knight. While the others glared at Spear as if he were a villain and a traitor, Crossguard’s countenance reminded me of my father’s, on those rare occasions when I had failed to live up to his expectations. “The Order of Sol Invictus has standards. Standards which thou didst fail to meet.”
Spear answered that with a snort. “I think it matters little if I enjoyed a good cider after battle, or the company of a fine mare. I saw bandits and monsters dealt with well enough, did I not?”
“Thy skill at arms was ne’er the issue,” Crossguard answered coolly. He sighed, then slowly shook his head. “‘Tis not enough that we do our duty effectively, we must also do it properly. The Order serves as an example to all of ponykind. Not only didst thou fail to conduct thyself in a manner befitting one of our number, thou didst also commit foul and infamous acts.”
“The bandits?” Spear waved a hoof, brushing the remark aside. “As I said at the time, hanging the corpses from the city walls sent a message to all of the consequences of banditry. I will note that Vanhoover had a notable drop in bandit activity after that incident.”
Crossguard scowled at him. “The Order does not make trophies of our enemies. The dead are to be treated with dignity and respect. I see thou hast learned nothing from thine exile.”
“I would not be so sure of that.” Spear turned to me, and offered a brief nod. “I apologize for not being able to offer you more of my time madam, and for neglecting our discussion on account revisiting troubles long past with my former comrades. ‘Twould seem if I linger here ‘twould only lead to more unpleasantness. I will prevail ‘pon Polaris to allow you to join him in the field—training our armies is a worthy use of your clan, but your expertise would be of value in contending ‘gainst the ephorate. I think once he can claim a victory for himself and the pride of Unicornia, ‘twill be easy enough to manage.”
I considered my response carefully, for I did not want to offend either party in the conversation. “My thanks for that, though my primary interest is in seeing the war brought to a successful conclusion.”
“In that, we are in agreement.” Spear glanced back at his old grandmaster. “Fear not, Crossguard. Though I may not conduct this war with the honor you desire, I will win it.”
“That remains to be seen,” Crossguard groused, before closing his eyes and taking a steadying breath. “Whate’er our history, I will wish thee luck in the field, Spear. We are on the same side, in this conflict.”
“That we are.” Famous Spear turned to me, and nodded. “A good day to you, madam.” Having said his farewells, the mercenary walked for the gate. Once he’d left the Order’s compound, the tension bubbling within it thankfully dispersed.
Once the fallen knight had properly left the area, Grandmaster Crossguard turned to me and briefly lowered his head. “I am sorry that you bore witness to that, Lady Shadow. 'Twould seem the past yet lingers o'er us.”
“Think nothing of it,” I answered easily. “War has forced all who are loyal to the Commander into a single camp, regardless of our personal preferences.” My mind turned to Sunbeam Sparkle and, to a lesser extent, Polaris. “‘Tis no surprise there is tension when ponies who would otherwise be enemies must work as allies.”
“We do live in troubled times.” Crossguard directed one final look in Spear’s direction, then shook his head and turned his full attention to me. “But enough of past mistakes and old grudges. We have more than enough troubles to occupy our time without lingering on ills best left to the past.”
“That we do.” I pointed towards Stalwart, who had remained respectfully silent whilst we spoke. “I have brought my best training sergeant, Stalwart. We did intend to discuss the training of our militia and levy forces, neigh?”
“You are too kind, m'lady,” Stalwart answered modestly.
Crossguard offered a slight nod to the sergeant, then turned back to me. “I am sure his expertise will be of use.” He turned towards the central keep, beckoning me to follow him. “Training our soldiers is perhaps our greatest task at the moment. The assistance of your clan’s capable sergeants would be invaluable.”
“Such had been my thought as well.” I agreed. “Stalwart and his subordinates have years of experience in training our clan’s young.” With some reluctance, I also added, “They know our enemies, and how they fight. ‘Tis an asset.”
“Useful knowledge indeed.” Crossguard paused, then amended, “Though I would prefer that it did not come to us under such dark circumstances. I will do what I can to keep your clan from facing their counterparts in the field. War is cruel enough without the prospect of kinslaying.”
“We have no kin remaining in Pegasopolis.” I scowled at the thought of it. “There are only Cumuli and traitors remaining.”
For a moment Crossguard’s mouth opened, as if he were about to speak, but he remained silent. We proceeded to the central keep of the Order’s compound. As he opened a door and politely held it for me, he spoke once more of business. “‘Twill be a difficult task to train our forces to be the equal of Pegasopolis’s clans. I am under no illusions about their mettle.”
“Aye, the clans are trained from birth in the way of the warrior. E’en the weakest among us is a formidable force on the battlefield.” I had seen the devastation wrought by the clans often enough, but ne’er before had I thought to find myself contending ‘gainst it. The memory of the recent ‘battle ‘gainst the reivers, where my forces killed o’er a dozen griffons for each of our own who fell, was fresh in my mind. I did not think a half-trained milita-pony could e’en match a reiver’s skill at arms. The implications were worrying. “We must find every advantage we can, if we are to battle the clans.”
“That we must.” A troubled frown appeared on his face as he led me deeper into the keep, likely towards some conference room intended for our meeting. Given what I had been told regarding the burden age had taken ‘pon him, ‘twas likely we would be speaking while his subordinates were also present. “We have our knights and magi—as well as the soldiers of your clan. All potent forces, but they cannot come near to matching the numbers of all Pegasoplis’ clans on their own. We must have levies and militia to bolster our numbers, but I do not think they can stand ‘gainst Pegasopolis without a good deal of preparation.” He paused, then shook his head and reluctantly added, “Many also fear the clans’ reputation. The average peasant and craftspony knows enough of war to grasp their own ignorance, and that they will shortly be fighting masters of it. I am not confident that they would e’en stand firm ‘gainst the charge.”
I found myself in agreement with his assessment. E’en when Pegasopolis had been a friend and ally, many ponies feared our warriors. Now that they were enemies, that fear was sure to be redoubled. “That being the case, we must ready the levies and militias ere they take a place on the battlefield. Have you decided what weapons and tactics we will train them in?”
Crossguard opened a door, revealing a room dominated by a table covered in maps and papers, o’er which two unicorns in the heraldry of the Order labored. “That is one of the things I wished to discuss with you, along with some of my other trusted advisors.” He nodded to each of them in turn as he made his introductions. “Shadow Kicker, this is my Knight-Commander, Noble Quest, and his wife and Chief Hospitaller, Pure Heart. I believe you are already acquainted with their son, Radiant Day.”
“I am.” I turned to face the two of them. “‘Tis a pleasure to at last make thine acquaintance.”
Pure Heart offered a polite curtsey. “Matriarch, the pleasure is entirely ours.”
Her husband saluted me. “We had desired to meet with thee sooner, and under better circumstances, but the events of the past few days have prevented it. For that, you have our apologies.”
“We have all been very busy; our duties take first priority.” I waved a hoof to Stalwart. “This is Sergeant Stalwart, my clan’s chief trainer.”
Stalwart rose, and briefly addressed them. “Sir, ma'am. ‘Twill be a pleasure working with you.”
The two officers gave Stalwart a short nod, and then Pure Heart turned to me. “Milady Shadow, do you require refreshment before we start?”
“Neigh.”
Stalwart let out a soft cough. “A glass of water, if 'tis not too much trouble.”
Pure Heart looked me and, after I nodded, offered my sergeant a smile. “Of course. One moment.” She employed her magic to set a glass before him.
While Stalwart enjoyed his water, Crossguard spoke to me. “You are, of course, always welcome to the hospitality of our order for the duration of this war, and hopefully beyond. Feel free to come to me at any time, should you feel the need. The war effort is far more important than points of etiquette.” He waved a hoof towards Stalwart. “That offer extends to the rest of your clan, as well.”
“That is most generous of you, and I thank you for it.” I offered the grandmaster a grateful smile. “I would say the same, were it not for the fact that our hold is still being made fit for habitation. Once 'tis suitable for receiving guests, I would gladly offer you our own hospitality.”
“Well and good then.” Crossguard took a seat between his two advisors, and waved a hoof towards the opposite chairs. Once Stalwart and I had settled, he continued. “Cooperation will be absolutely essential if we are to achieve victory. So, let us discuss the matter of preparing our army for the task before it.”
“Our first difficulty is one of time.” I found a suitable map of Equestria for our purposes. “Polaris’s strategy will buy us some time, but ‘tis likely that once he has become a thorn in the rebels’ side they will attempt to force a battle, likely by moving against Canterlot. Whether the ploy succeeds or not, we must be ready for battle when the time comes. Especially as they would likely be able to outmaneuver Polaris and place their forces ‘tween him and Canterlot, once they know his position.” That brought a related matter to mind. “If we are to meet them in battle, we must devise tactics that will allow us to minimize their mobility. So long as their flight allows them to outmaneuver us, we will be hard-pressed to engage in battle without being defeated in detail.”
“‘Tis the great advantage of the pegasi,” Crossguard agreed. “Discipline and experience can be gained by our levies, but flight will e’er elude them. In truth, my greatest fear about Polaris’s current plans is the matter of mobility; should his army be caught and engaged, he would be hard-pressed to escape. As it stands, when we meet the enemy ‘twill be all but impossible to protect our flanks and rear.”
“Strikes from above are a concern, as well.” ‘Twas no surprise that Crossguard did not immediately consider that threat—my experience has been that the ground-dwelling breeds of ponykind often have difficulty grasping the intricacies of combat in three dimensions. “'Twould be ideal if we could engage them in terrain that limited their flight. A pegasus forced to the ground is a far lesser threat.”
“Our magi can only do much to deter them, unless they are to focus all their efforts on that.” Crossguard remarked. “There are other methods to make our forces more mobile, such as employing chariot dragoons, but I fear that does little more than diminish our disadvantage, not remove it. (2) If we are to meet their armies, I think it must be on terrain of our choosing. Though we do hold some advantage in that regard, the rebels must come to us eventually. Their victory is not complete until they take Canterlot.”
2: Chariot Dragoons were a common means of increasing the strategic and tactical mobility of ground forces by using either dedicated chariot ponies, or having teams switching out so one group could rest while the other rode. Chariot dragoons were frequently used to improve the army’s strategic mobility, though tactical use produced considerably more mixed results due to the relative ease of countering chariot tactics and their dependence on good terrain. The land-based chariot largely fell out of favor after the invention of the steam engine and creation of Equestria’s railroad network.
“Aye, 'tis so.” Much as it pained me to admit it, I found myself forced to concede the next comment. “Though Polaris was not wrong in saying that passivity would be dangerous. Wars are not won by hiding in fortresses.”
“I would not be so quick to credit the words to Polaris, when he was likely only repeating what Spear told him.” Crossguard frowned a moment after saying that, and waved a hoof. “Though mayhaps I give him too little credit in saying that—e’en if I think little of his generalship, his political insight has ne’er been lacking. Regardless of who the words belong to, they are correct. We cannot allow the earth ponies to be overrun while we do nothing.”
“But we can do precious little until we solve the issue of mobility.” I thought back to my last visit to the Order’s compound. “I have noted your order uses a most effective formation for engaging large monsters. I think that with work, it might be adapted to the task of mass combat.”
Noble Quest’s ears stood at that. “You think so, milady? I would think that any form of combat where carefully ordered formations are key to victory would be particularly vulnerable to pegasus attack, given the vulnerability of the flanks. Especially with a formation like the Dragon’s Teeth—pikes are formidable against a frontal assault, but against any enemy not obliging or stupid enough to run into a wall of pikes, they quickly become nothing but an impediment. Worse still, they could attack our magi and crossbowponies with impunity.”
I offered a slight nod, conceding the matter. Though I still felt the formation had potential, Noble did raise an indisputable point. As it was, the formation would only be useful if I could force a battle in a long, narrow, low-ceilinged corridor.
My attempts to puzzle the matter through were briefly interrupted by the clink of glass on wood as Stalwart set his water down. When he lifted the glass once more, the condensation gathered on the outside left behind a ring of water, standing out against the dark wood of the table. That image provided me with the inspiration I needed. “If flanks are a problem, we could simply remove them. Instead of a line, use a circular formation.”
Crossguard frowned, thinking the matter over. “That is not entirely without merit. A wall of pikes in all directions. I think a square would be better than a circle, though. Formations with straight lines are far easier to manage than those with curves, especially if we want to maintain our battlefield mobility. Given the number of conscripts we will be relying upon, simplicity is a virtue.”
Stalwart looked to me for permission, and then spoke. “The pike is an easy enough weapon to learn. Same for the crossbow. ‘Twould not be o’erly difficult to instruct the levies in both. Prudence dictates instructing them in using a backup weapon too, in case the enemy closes in. I would suggest hammer hooves and horn spikes.”
Noble turned to the sergeant. “The Order trains its new recruits in those weapons before any others for precisely that reason. Both are weapons which one can gain basic proficiency with in the course of a few hours’ instruction, and yet still effective in battle if used properly.” A troubled frown crossed his face. “Discipline is essential to the pikewall, though. If e’en a small portion falters, it creates an opening that will compromise the entire line.”
Stalwart offered a single nod. “Aye, but I can train them in discipline. E’en more quickly if I might have the use of our clan’s numbers.” He looked to me, and I nodded for him to continue. “Accustom them to facing a pegasus charge in training, and they will find the reality of it far less frightening.”
“Sensible,” Noble agreed, his attention firmly on Stalwart. “I would not mind hearing more of thine own methods, Sergeant. I suspect there is much our trainers and those of thy clan can learn from one another.”
“Likely so,” Stalwart agreed. “Common wisdom in Pegasopolis is that none know war half so well as we do. E’en if ‘tis so, that does not mean that those who have a lesser quantity of knowledge might not know aspects of war which we have not found.”
In that, Stalwart was quite correct. Considering the matter of our formation, I still would have preferred a circle—it seemed a stronger formation with fewer vulnerabilities. However, that was a choice based on my accustomment to working alongside the clans of Pegasopolis. With a largely conscripted army, the quality of our troops likely made it a poor choice. Given all that we would need to train our soldiers in, simple formations that could be easily executed were likely the better choice. A circle might be stronger than a square, but a proper square would be far stronger than a failed circle. “We have settled on the formation, then. 'Twould be vulnerable from above, though.”
“Aye.” Crossguard pulled out a sheet of parchments and a quill, and quickly sketched out the formation. “Though the formation lacks vulnerable flanks, there would be little to prevent pegasi from simply landing in the middle of the square, behind the pike line.”
“The magi and crossbows will take a heavy toll on them if they are not quick in their landing, at least.” I thought further on the formation, trying to approach it as an attacker would, so that I might consider how best to counter the rebels’ likely approach. “Having the last rank of pikes keep their weapons upraised would deny the enemy aerial charge lanes, beyond particularly steep ones.” ‘Twas well known that the steeper the charge, the harder ‘twas to manage. E’en the best flyers cannot instantly reverse course when flying at charging speeds.
“Some of Bright’s pegasi have the skill for a near-vertical charge.” Stalwart frowned down at the square. “There is also the matter of bombardment. A densely packed formation like that is a fine target for it. A stone dropped from a thousand feet is sure to hit somepony in the ranks.”
Crossguard nodded, then was briefly silent as he considered the matter. “The magi within the square will likely have to shield the top of it whene’er danger threatens from that direction. ‘Twill require timing on their part in raising and lowering the defenses, else the shield will prevent our crossbows from striking or e’en deflect the bolts into our own troops. Not to mention the magi themselves will likely struggle to manage offense and defense simultaneously.” Crossguard was silent for a few moments, then nodded. “Still, the magi should be up to the task, and I shall have words with Magus Sparkle to ensure that they train for it.”
“Assuming the magi can fill the demands made of them, that would seem a workable solution,” I agreed. “We can also choose our terrain so as to minimize the advantage of flight.”
Crossguard looked to me with a frown. “Pray tell, how can such a thing be done? It strikes me as difficult to deny a pegasus their birthright, and most forms of rough terrain will favor the ponies who can bypass the ground entirely.”
I looked up the ceiling, then took wing, taking care to avoid flapping my wings hard enough to produce any significant wind, though Pure Heart still felt the need to secure the loose papers covering much of the table. Given that we were indoors, I could barely obtain a pony’s height above the floor without being at risk of striking my head on a low-hanging rafter. I judged that restriction more than sufficient to make my point, and landed shortly thereafter.
The Grandmaster ducked his head to me. “Well said, milady. Though I rather doubt we could build a low-ceilinged room large enough for our armies to do battle, or persuade them to do battle there. Still, if we could engage them in a thick enough forest, ‘twould be quite sufficient to reduce the advantages of flight. Though forests are not kind to formations either, if we hope to have any sort of mobility for our own armies.”
“‘Tis so, but if both our armies are slowed to a crawl then we have succeeded in evening the field, if nothing else.” I considered the matter, and how we might initiate a battle on favorable terms. “Provoking them to strike in terrain of our choosing might well be possible, at least for our first engagement.”
That drew a doubtful frown from Noble Quest. “You think so, milady? Rightly and his fellow ephors are no fools; surely they would deny us battle in a place of our choosing, and given their greater mobility ‘twould be extremely difficult to force them to battle on unfavourable terms.”
“Aye, but there is another weakness we might exploit.” I drew forth one of the maps, idly searching for suitable terrain for such a battle. “The clans are proud of their skills, and consider themselves by far the better warriors. Further, Polaris's harassment strategy will leave them eager to properly face the enemy in battle.”
Crossguard gave a brief nod to signal his understanding. “You believe they would be plagued with overconfidence, and overpowered by a desire to bring us to battle? To the point where they would surrender the advantage of terrain?”
“I think it is a possibility worth considering.” I myself had learned that pegasus pride could be blinding. I had been arrogantly certain that no other could command Equestria’s armies half so well as I, only to discover that I was mistaken in that belief. Though the pegasi still had the best warriors in Equestria, there was some martial skill to be found among the other races.
“All in Equestria know that Pegasopolan soldiers are trained from birth to be the greatest warriors in the land.” A faint, knowing smile appeared on Noble Quest’s face. “Including the pegasi themselves. They know that, pony-for-pony, our levies and militia would be no match for their soldiers. I am sure we all know what usually happens when hardened soldiers engage poorly trained and disciplined farmers and shopkeepers. Terrain is immaterial if the army breaks in the battle’s opening minutes.”
“Meaning no disrespect to our current hosts,” Stalwart began, “but one of the most often-quoted sayings in Pegasopolis is that during the liberation of Manehatten, Luna stated that ‘twould take a battalion of earth ponies to achieve what a mere platoon of pegasi could manage.” (3)
3: I actually managed to get a friend to ask Princess Luna about this quote that’s often attributed to her. It turns out that while it’s semi-accurate, the context was lost over time. She was specifically speaking of sending a pegasus platoon to infiltrate an enemy fortress and open the gates from within, rather than just launching a frontal assault and battering the defenses down. It’s probably no surprise that the pegasi preferred to remember the quote as “40 pegasi are worth 800 earth ponies” rather than “don’t launch frontal assaults on heavily fortified position s when you can bypass them.”
Crossguard let out a low chuckle. “Interestingly enough, many of our knights will proudly claim that each of them is a match for ten levy-ponies. And the earth ponies likely have similar regarding how we know a great deal about elaborate military maneuvers, but precious little of proper brawling.” A faint smile crossed his face. “Though if my knights were in the midst of a barroom brawl, I would expect them to acquit themselves well. Bad enough that they are brawling like drunken louts in the first place, but they could at least have the decency to win.”
“We would not disappoint you, Grandmaster,” the Knight-Commander assured him.
“Good. The Order of Sol Invictus has a reputation to maintain, e’en when ‘tis in the midst of being disreputable.” The veteran warpony offered a grin to his subordinates, then turned back to me. “Forgive that brief distraction, milady. In dark times, a jest is a welcome relief. Returning to business, then. If there is a chance that we might dictate the terrain for e’en a single battle, we should not squander the advantage.” He frowned, looking over a map covering everything within a day’s march of Canterlot. “While the woods do deny our enemies much of the advantage flight conveys, the very same trees would also hamper our line of sight, and reduce the effectiveness of our battle magi and crossbows.”
“Unless we could arrange our line along the edge of the treeline or an open area with relatively few breaks in the canopy,” Noble pointed out. “Such details are rarely placed on maps, though; we would need to scout the terrain ourselves.”
“I would not be especially confident in the conscripts’ ability to use their crossbows at extended range, regardless,” Stalwart declared. “Direct fire is easily taught, but past fifty yards the need to account for wind and gravity will seriously diminish their effectiveness.”
Pure Heart cleared her throat. Given that the hospitaller had not contributed greatly to the discussion of tactics, her presence was likely a matter of completeness for the Order. “I should mention that calling forth fireballs and lightning bolts are not the only options available to a proper battle magus.” (4)
4: At this time, the Chief Hospitaller of the Order of Sol Invictus was effectively in charge of all the Order’s non-combat functions. While she wouldn’t be participating on the battlefield, Pure Heart would need to know about any battle plans in order to take care of supply requirements and any special equipment the army might need. Not to mention that, as her title implies, she would be in charge of the army’s medical facilities.
“Direct attack spells are only one of the things a magus can conjure,” I agreed. My mind went back to my days as a warlock hunter, working alongside Copper. While his mastery of electricity as a direct weapon was not to be doubted, he could also charge my blades and armor with it, punishing any enemy who struck me while making my own blows far deadlier. And then there were the many uses he found for electromagnetism; I pitied our foes who fought ‘gainst him in metal armor.
I shook Copper Spark from my thoughts, lest nostalgia and melancholy o’er his departure distract me from present matters. “Are there any suitable forests near Canterlot, then?”
Crossguard shifted the map that had occupied his attention so that I could see it. Several locations had been marked on it, each with a few notes regarding their suitability. “Any of these seem like they would fit our purposes, though I cannot say for sure until I have at least sent scouts to do a proper survey. Sadly, most of our maps are only slightly more detailed than ‘here there be forests.’ Polaris took many of our best scouts with him, so we must make do with what we have.”
“My clan can likely aid in the process.” Though most of my clanponies would likely benefit from being accompanied by a pony more familiar with ground warfare, a simple sky chariot would attend to that. “I think we have a strategy, then.”
Crossguard gave me a slight frown. “In most aspects, aye. I must ask, however, what role you intend your clan to play. So far we have only discussed how our ground forces will engage the enemy.”
“Ah.” I was perhaps too used to using my clan as I saw fit. Command in Pegasopolis was traditionally a very loose thing. Field officers were expected to use their own initiative, and orders were often little more than a list of objectives, given with the expectation that the unit commander would exercise his own judgment in seeing them accomplished. ‘Twould seem that was not the way of things in Unicornia, though I should not be surprised to learn it. If I was to be Crossguard’s subordinate then ‘twould seem we would both have many adjustments to make.
The first adjustment would be answering his inquiry. “I had thought to use my clan as skirmishers and a mobile reserve, disrupting enemy attacks and exploiting weaknesses as they appear. It seems the best use of their abilities.”
“Putting our only flying troops in the midst of a pike wall would be a waste,” Noble Cause agreed.
“Agreed.” Crossguard nodded to me. “I hope you realize, milady, that I meant no offense by my inquiry. ‘Twas simply a matter of coordination. If ‘tis your intention to employ your clan as a skirmishing force, I would advise speaking with Sunbeam on the matter. She could likely provide your clan with a few things to aid in that. Now, shall we move on to the discussing the city’s defenses?”
All others within the room nodded, so Crossguard continued. “First, I am working with Greenwall as a liaison to the earth pony communities in proximity to Canterlot to collect all the provisions they can afford to spare, as a precaution. Though I do not judge a prolonged siege likely barring an unexpected disaster, ‘tis prudent to be prepared. Naturally, we are combining that process with gathering more of the militia to our cause.”
“Prudent.” Two tasks accomplished in a single movement was a fine use of resources, though I wondered at the practicality of preparing for a siege. I frowned, as I tried to find the best means of expressing myself. “Though ‘tis prudent to gather supplies, 'twill be difficult to e'en have a siege of the city. Pegasi have little respect for fixed defenses, and if the enemy steals a march on Canterlot they will likely aim to take it by storm ere Polaris can arrive to relieve us.”
Noble passed maps of the city to myself and Stalwart, whilst Crossguard responded to me. “As you say, walls would simply be flown o’er. However, I have spoken with Sunbeam on the matter, and we have devised a means of defense 'gainst that.” He slowly drew a circle ‘round the city itself, save for the area where the city anchored itself to the mountain. “Sunbeam has assured us that the magi can enclose the entire city within a magical shield, if need be. ‘Twill be a significant undertaking that will occupy a large portion of our mages’ strength, so I would prefer to hold on raising the shield until there is a certain threat ‘gainst the city.” (5)
5: It’s rather noteworthy that in Shadow’s time, shielding the city was a massive undertaking that occupied the strength of a significant portion of the magi. By modern times, Shining Armor and Princess Cadance have both managed it on their own. Granted, prior to the Rebellion there was relatively little research into creating city-wide shields, and during the course of the war itself many advances were made that were further developed during peacetime.
I was duly impressed by the plans, if only for the sheer scale of it. ‘Twas unsurprising to learn that the shield was Sunbeam’s idea, for it had an audacity that fit her. However, there was a single critical weakness in the plan. “The shield does not cover the mountain itself. I have heard much of mining within the mountain, do you know if the tunnels are extensive enough to provide entrance to the rebels?”
“That is one of our worries,” Crossguard confessed. “There are entrances to the tunnel network throughout the mountain, and there are sure to be current or former miners whose sympathies lie with the rebels. If not in Canterlot, then from other communities. If the rebels mean to make an attempt on the city, ‘twill not be long ere they learn of the mines by some means, and have access to ponies with knowledge of tunnelcraft.”
“Though we hold some advantage on account of controlling the mines.” Noble Quest offered. “However, the greatest problem before us is the mines themselves. The network of tunnels and shafts is so complex that nopony has ever properly mapped it. Unfortunately, a good portion of the mining guild's records were destroyed in a fire nearly five decades ago, and e’en then the miners did not always maintain the most thorough of records. Not to mention that many of the miners do not report all their activities to the guild, either from simple laziness or to conceal a few rich lodes to sate their own greed.” Quest let out a resigned sigh, rubbing at his temples. “Regardless of the reasons, the guild’s maps only cover main arteries and those places recently mined. We are having miners working around the clock to cave in as many tunnels as possible, and to map out the network to the best of our abilities.”
Stalwart frowned thoughtfully at his own map. “If we want to fight them in tight terrain, the caves would qualify, neigh?”
“Indeed they would.” Crossguard offered the both of us a tight smile. “That is why we are going to collapse some tunnels, but not all of them.” Noble provided him with a relatively current map of the tunnel network, which showed many tunnels marked for destruction, while a select few were being kept open. “I am having some of my knights who know of engineering work alongside the miners, deciding which tunnels are threats, and which can safely be left open and fortified.”
The map already showed more than a dozen positions being fortified, creating a network of forts with multiple redundancies. “If they try to break the defenses directly, 'twould quickly become unpleasant.”
Noble provided us with a drawing of one of the fortresses. “We are setting them up in areas open enough to provide us with proper fire lanes, but low-ceilinged enough to deny the pegasi effective flight. Our own soldiers will be guarding heavily fortified stone positions, and the pike is a devastating weapon in such narrow quarters. I can hardly think of a worse position for the rebels to attack.”
“They will likely try to have miners of their own in order to bypass those positions, then,” I cautioned. “Wars are rarely won by attacking the enemy where they are strongest. Were I in command of the rebel forces, I would only attack one of these fortresses to distract the enemy from my true purpose.”
“That is my expectation as well.” Crossguard agreed. “‘Tis why we employ miners so eagerly, and are drafting all we can who have knowledge of the Canterlot caves. If they are forced to dig their own shafts to outflank us, ‘twill not be quickly done, and with any luck our own miners will forewarn us of the attempt and allow us to counter them ere it is finished.”
So ‘twould be a battle of miners and engineers as much as warriors. I confess that a part of me misliked that thought, though I could not deny the practicality of it. Victory was victory, regardless of how ‘twas gained. So long as we did not resort to cruel or dishonorable tactics, I saw little issue with killing the enemy by collapsing a tunnel ‘pon them rather than putting them to the blade. The dead care little for the manner in which they die.
I nodded to Crossguard. “That much is settled, then. What of the magical shield? I presume ‘twill not be easily broken by main force?”
“Sunbeam Sparkle has assured me that the shield can take immense amounts of punishment, so long as enough magi of suitable ability are powering it.” Crossguard answered. “The only way they could break it would be if they possessed considerable magical power, or if our magi took such heavy casualties that they could no longer sustain the barrier.”
“I have the arcane formula for it if you are curious.” Pure Heart offered me several sheets of paper covered in complex runes which I only half understood.
Rather than linger on the details of the spell, my mind turned to the mare casting it. “Given that you have twice made mention of her regarding the shield, I take it Sunbeam Sparkle will be o'erseeing it’s casting and maintenance?”
“Aye,” Crossguard acknowledged. “Since I have been given mastery of the defense of Canterlot, I have changed her duties to something more suited to her talents. ‘Tis why I prefer that the Order avoid political entanglements: they lead to issues like our best magus being kept from the front lines and assigned to menial duties far beneath her.”
“I see.” I had hoped that I would be able to limit my contact with Sunbeam Sparkle. Having resigned myself to working alongside her for the good of Equestria had not made her company any more tolerable. If she was to have such a critical role in the defense of Canterlot, I could only pray that Polaris enjoyed such success in the field that the capital never came under threat.
Crossguard quirked an eyebrow and directed a questioning glance to me, likely having taken note of my disquiet. “Is there something on your mind, Shadow?”
Though I was hesitant to speak of personal matters in the midst of a war meeting, I was hard-pressed to deny that ‘twas relevant. “Sunbeam Sparkle and I are less than fond of one another. I would not advise asking us to work in close proximity to one another.”
“Ah.” Crossguard sighed, running a hoof o’er his face. “I suppose I should not e’en be surprised to hear it. Sunbeam has a rare talent for making ponies despise her, matched only by her ability to make herself utterly indispensable. Still, there are ways to minimize her more negative aspects.” He looked to his subordinates and Stalwart. “Might we have the room? There are matters I would discuss with Lady Shadow in privacy.”
Noble Quest and Pure Heart immediately rose and proceeded to the exit, while Stalwart looked to me for confirmation. Once I gave it, he joined the others. “See to the arrangements for training our forces, while I speak with the grandmaster,” I ordered. Though Crossguard and I had already outlined a general training plan, there were many lesser details to be seen to. Stalwart nodded, stepped out, and I heard muted conversation between him and Crossguard’s two subordinates.
Crossguard himself rose and walked to a cabinet, pulling out a bottle and two fine goblets. He opened the bottle, and poured two glasses of dark red liquid; some type of brandy, judging by the smell. “Sunbeam Sparkle.” He passed one of the glasses to me, whilst contemplatively swirling his own. “You are not the first pony to speak of trouble working alongside her, and in all likelihood you will not be the last, either. Thankfully, one of the advantages of her status as one of the Order’s most generous patrons is frequent enough association with her to grasp her foibles. First, pray tell, what troubles you the most regarding Magus Sunbeam? And please, speak frankly. I would have my subordinates work in harmony, if possible.”
My answer was short and to the point. “She is an intolerable, inappropriate, and wicked mare.” I sipped at the brandy, and did not find it especially to my liking. ‘Twas pleasant enough as such things went, but I had ne’er especially cared for the taste of alcohol. Not to mention the fact that it dulled a warrior’s senses and was all too easy to become dependent upon. Lyequinegus had advised all pegasi to abstain from it. (6)
6: Having read some of Lyequinegus’ works, I can also confirm that he advised all pegasi to abstain from fun, smiling, joy, and laughter as well. Thus, we can safely conclude that the only time he ever took that stick out of his plot was when he needed an extra weapon to beat something to death with.
Crossguard sipped at his own brandy, and seemed to enjoy it far more than I did. “So, if you will forgive me for asking, did she make inappropriate advances towards you?”
Given that such was his first notion, ‘twas likely she was somewhat infamous for such activities. I suppose I should not be surprised, given how quickly she approached me. “She did.”
“I would have been more surprised had she not done so.” Crossguard let out a low chuckle. “As you might have guessed, you are not unique in that regard. Though I must say, ‘twas rather flattering for a mare so much my junior to offer herself to me. I suspect ‘tis one of her favored methods of approaching those whose loyalty cannot be bought with money or favors.”
I scowled disapprovingly. “She is so wanton as to bed anypony she cannot buy, then?”
Crossguard shook his head. “As with most things, Sunbeam's motives are considerably more complex than that.” He offered me an understanding smile. “We will work with her, aye, but always with a wary eye, and only so long as she advances good causes. More’s the pity that the only virtue Sunbeam truly understands is constancy. Because of that, she finds her morally driven allies to be unpredictable—she can understand greed or lust for power easily enough, and e’en loyalty, but simple altruism and decency elude her. Thus, she seeks to reduce those of her allies who hold to such ideals to something more predictable in nature.”
“So she would use lust as a leash, then.” I sipped at the brandy once more, lest I say something untoward. “I do not think that strategy is likely to work. I do not find her desirable in the slightest.”
“Aye, but ‘tis not unknown for ponies of wealth and power to lose all sense and reason ‘pon being favored by the attentions of an attractive mare.” Crossguard chuckled, glancing contemplatively down at his drink. “I confess, in my youth I had my moments of foolishness, often prompted by the belief that I might impress a comely mare. I am sure you can relate as well.” He downed the remained of his glass. “And if flirtation does not accomplish her goal, then her increasing brazenness will often serve to unbalance many of her opponents. I am sure you are aware of ponies who have trouble concentrating when matters of courtship have been brought up.”
The latter explanation rang far truer to my mind, at least as regarded Sunbeam’s actions towards me. “I cannot deny that her offers unsettle me.”
“I had surmised as much.” Crossguard poured himself a fresh drink, then added a bit more to my own glass. “If I might give you advice derived from my own experience, I would ignore her. If she truly thought to bed you, she would be far more subtle in her offers, slowly drawing you deeper into her web. She only grows indecent when her primary aim is to unsettle her foe, so do not give her that satisfaction. Sunbeam is not one to waste her efforts. If she cannot bed you, nor cause you discomfort with her effrontery, then she will cease her attempts.”
“I shall bear that advice in mind,” I dutifully responded.
“And be far less troubled for it, I imagine.” Crossguard looked to his brandy once more, then sipped at it and heaved a sigh. “Alas, the second of your objections to her is not so easily addressed. Like most who know her, you have seen the darkness within her heart.” He paused, and shook his head. “Neigh, ‘tis not as simple as that. Pure Heart and Her Majesty have likened it to an illness of the mind, one that afflicts her to the point where she cannot understand morality and decency. When I think of all that a mare of her talents could do, were it not for her affliction...” He drained his glass, then set it aside. “Be that as it may, she is not a wholly evil mare. I believe we all know what true evil looks like.”
I thought back to my own conversation with the Commander regarding her former vizier. “I will grant that she’s not called ‘pon dark magic, or committed crimes so utterly foul and unjustified that they cannot be forgiven.” E’en the death of that foal whilst in pursuit of the warlock Spellfire, while a terrible crime, did at least have a logic to it. The sacrifice of one innocent to save many. Though ‘twas a foul deed regardless, it was not an act motivated by evil or cruelty. “I would question, however, whether her refusal to reach the uttermost heights of villainy is a product of decency, rather than a belief that it gives her the easiest path to power.”
“In truth, I often fear much the same,” Crossguard confessed. “That is why she must be encouraged to do good rather than follow her base nature. This might surprise you, but she was e’en worse in the past. Barely restrained ambition can drive a pony to do many terrible things. She has always been immensely talented, but she always sought the most straightforward, often vicious means to achieve her goals. That is her base nature.”
“And yet, we must work alongside her.” I felt my grip on the glass of brandy tightening. “Would that we had the luxury of choosing our allies.”
“Alas, we do not.” Crossguard cast a contemplative look at the bottle, then sealed it and returned it to its cabinet. “Much as I enjoy a good brandy, ‘twould not do to o’erindulge. Though I confess that dealing with Sunbeam does tempt me, at times. She must be controlled, manipulated e’en, if she is to be kept from indulging her baser whims. She can be made to do good. One merely has to know how to manage such a feat.”
“I confess myself skeptical.” I thought back once more to the discussion I had with Celestia in the aftermath of Sunbeam’s dismissal. “Not e'en the Commander can fully control her.”
“In all fairness to Her Majesty, she has many other duties, and can hardly devote her every waking hour to monitoring Sunbeam's activities.” Crossguard paused, one hoof waving about searchingly. “How to put this? Sunbeam is like an officer who has very specialized skills. An idiot savant, of sorts. Only rather than a lack of intellect, she is plagued by a corrupt spirit. However, so long as her deficiencies can be managed, she can be of extreme use.”
Commander Celestia had implied something similar, though she expressed herself differently. Where Celestia spoke more of her personal desire to guide Sunbeam to a better path, Crossguard focused more on her practical use. I found his case more convincing. “So how might she be managed?”
Crossguard idly searched through the papers covering the table. “I suspect that Sunbeam's thoughts are so byzantine that even she herself does not always know how she makes her own decisions. But there is one key to managing her: the power of logic.”
After that, Crossguard fell silent for such a time that I began to wonder if he had forgotten his current train of thought. ‘Twas a common enough affliction among the elderly. “Logic?” I prompted him.
Crossguard blinked, then quickly nodded and resumed speaking. “Aye, logic. Sunbeam’s nature drives her to find the quickest and most pragmatic means of accomplishing her goals. Often this leads to her acting in an evil manner. An example ... hrm ... I believe you were present for the duel in Cloudsdale, where Sunbeam crippled that one criminal, Variant Doo?”
“Valiant,” I gently corrected him. “And aye, I bore witness to the spectacle. By Celestia’s orders she could not slay him, so she inflicted such cruelties ‘pon him that he wished for death instead.“
“That is unfortunately like her.” Crossguard sighed, rubbing his forehead. “Though she followed Her Majesty’s words, she did not grasp the spirit of them. Likely she thought that a public show of force was the best way to cow your fellow pegasi, as well as satisfying her fellow unicorns’ desire to avenge the murder of First Glance. Given what I have heard of the sequence of events in Cloudsdale, she also likely wished to prevent Daylight Shimmer from engaging Valiant.” Crossguard gave a resigned shake of his head. “Like many of our younger knights, Daylight is eager to prove himself.”
I found my curiosity piqued by the fact that Crossguard would expect Sunbeam to go to such lengths to protect a lowly magus. “Why would she wish to prevent Daylight from engaging in a duel?”
Crossguard was some time in answering, and I could guess at the reasons for it. “Sunbeam is a patron of Daylight's career. Daylight being killed in a duel would have wasted many of her efforts, and future plans.”
“So ‘twas done to advance her own schemes and ambitions. I am not surprised.” What Crossguard left unsaid was Daylight’s unknown parentage, though I suspect ‘twas not unknown to Sunbeam Sparkle. Likely, she had a use planned for Daylight, especially if he were noble-born. Be his patron and protector for the entirety of his career as a magus, then reveal at a critical moment that he was the sole remaining heir of some long and proud dynasty. Mayhaps she e’en plotted to wed him to Midnight, once her daughter was of age, in order to secure her own dynastic legacy. Though Sunbeam seemed to hold the nobles of Unicornia in contempt, I did not doubt for a second that she would exploit their system to advance her own ambitions.
Crossguard refrained from commenting on my less charitable summary of Sunbeam’s motives. “In any event, the duel in Cloudsdale is an example of what she will do if left to her own devices. What ponies of good character need to do is convince her to take another road, that her actions are folly and illogical. She is not a stupid mare by any stretch, but there are areas where she is all but blind to how ponies think. If another can properly explain what she fails to grasp, she will consider it.”
“How is that to be done, then?” I frowned, recalling my own conversations with Sunbeam. “She does not seem to welcome any questioning of her own righteousness.”
Crossguard directed a knowing look at me. “I suspect, milady, that your prior conversations with her consisted more of condemnations of her actions. Arguing morality with her is rarely fruitful. Instead, use logic against her. She prides herself on being a rational creature, and far more clear-sighted than the average pony. When she is about to do evil, convince her that a more moral course is also the more practical one.” He paused, applying his axiom to the prior example. “In the case of Valiant, if you had warned her that the pegasi were more likely to be angered than cowed, or that Her Majesty would not be amused by her violating the spirit of a promise while adhering to the letter of it, she would have reconsidered her actions. Especially had she been forewarned that Her Majesty’s displeasure would reduce her own power and influence.”
“I see.” Crossguard’s reasoning was persuasive. I could not appeal to the decency of a mare who had none, but I firmly believed that the best course of action was also the moral one. All that I would need to do is persuade Sunbeam of that. “I assume you have used this strategy successfully in the past?”
“The existence of ‘Sunbeam Sparkle's Sacrosanct Sanctum for Sharing and Selfless Sacrifices’ (7) is rather firm evidence of my past successes.” A faint smirk played across Crossguard’s lips. “Between the popularity it won her with the common pony and the fact that having her name on all the buildings pleased her ego, ‘twas not hard to persuade her to donate the needed funds. And Pure Heart’s hospitallers have aided hundreds of ponies that would have been beyond aid absent Sunbeam’s donations. Mayhaps it helps advance the ambitions of a questionable mare, but lives are being saved.”
7: As an interesting note, Sunbeam Sparkle's Sacrosanct Sanctum for Sharing and Selfless Sacrifices is still in operation. One or two ponies have suggested taking Sunbeam’s name off of it, but the fact that the Sparkle family makes sizable annual donations to the fund probably ensures that the Order of Sol Invictus will never seriously consider changing it.
“I imagine the pony whose wounds are healed by the hospital’s staff cares little about the character of the mare paying to see it done,” I conceded. For all that I held my own morals near to my heart, I was not blind to the practical needs that drove many ponies. Were my own daughter stricken and near death, I would prefer that Sunbeam save her life rather see Gale perish. Though I do not believe that all morals are things to be discarded when ‘twas inconvenient, there are some lesser points of morality that compare poorly to the value of a pony’s life. Though theft be a crime, I would not harshly condemn one who stole a loaf of bread to feed his starving children.
“That has been my observation as well,” Crossguard agreed. “That matter aside, Sunbeam’s gentling has been a gradual and ongoing process. Her Majesty, myself, and her daughter have all tempered the darkness within her. Her daughter, perhaps, more than any of us.”
Crossguard paused, his eyes growing distant for a few moments. “Once, years ago, her political opponents stole Midnight in the hopes of using her as leverage ‘gainst her mother. Ne’er before have I seen Sunbeam so enraged, and the retribution she wrought ‘pon them was terrible indeed. Surely you have noticed how she rarely lets her child leave her side, e’en when she is about the business of the realm. ‘Tis a habit she acquired after that incident.”
“I see.” I was reminded of Gale’s own half-formed plans to abscond with young Midnight in the hopes of gaining leverage ‘gainst her mother, and was very glad that I had rejected it.
“Though I am somewhat loathe to suggest it, her daughter can be used to provoke her better nature.” Crossguard settled into his chair, groaning at some old pain. “For all her Majesty’s efforts, and my own, the greatest single force for good in her life remains young Midnight. I think that, as much as a mare with her affliction is capable of it, she loves her daughter.”
He held my gaze for a time, then concluded the conversation. “Sunbeam Sparkle is an unpleasant pony, but we have found ways to make use of her. She has done much good for Equestria, and my only regret is that her illness prevents her from doing more. I think we can both agree that our service to the crown and to Equestria is more important than our personal desires. Thus, you must find a way to work with Magus Sunbeam. We cannot afford conflict within our army. Sunbeam is one of our most capable war magi, while you command the loyal pegasi. You do not have the luxury of putting your personal antipathy above Equestria’s needs.” He paused, and his tone turned conciliatory. “I will have words with Sunbeam on this matter too; ‘Twas not my intention to make this seem a condemnation of you for failing to work alongside her.”
“Noted, Grandmaster.” I respectfully bowed my head to him. “My thanks for your advice in this matter.” Though rankings ‘tween unicorn and pegasus were e’er a matter of contention, I felt secure in saying that Crossguard had earned my respect, and I would not hesitate to follow his orders in the field.
“Of course.” He chuckled, and returned my nod. “I believe if I were a pegasus, I would be one of your geronts, yes? That being the case, 'tis my duty to impress my wisdom ‘pon my youngers.”
That earned a soft chuckle from me. “Thus far, I would say you are filling the role quite adequately. In truth, moreso than many of the geronts I have known. My f—” I quickly caught myself, ere I misspoke. “Cyclone once told me that the geronts spend far more time regaling each other with old war stories than they do imparting wisdom.”
Thankfully, Crossguard did not comment ‘pon my near lapse, and continued speaking of his own experiences. “I have heard that many of the young initiates have taken to calling me ‘Grandfather Crossguard.’ Bah, I say to that. I am not so old as to be a grandfather, I am merely seasoned. And like a fine wine, I am all the better for aging.”
I struggled to suppress a snort of laughter at his stubborn insistence. My own limited experience with the gerousia indicated that all its members were similarly certain that age had little effect ‘pon them, save those few who were so aged that they could no longer deny the truth, e’en to themselves. “Of that, I have no doubt. Regardless, you wisdom is appreciated.”
“Think nothing of it, milady Shadow.” Crossguard rose from his seat. “I fear that dark days lie before us, and we will need each other’s support to survive them. And I need my second-in-command to be at her best to help me make our army ready for war.”
“I will not disappoint you, Grandmaster,” I assured him as I rose as well. “I take it our business is concluded then?”
“It is, and I never thought that you would fail to exceed my expectations,” He answered smoothly. “Unlike some parties best left unmentioned, I have absolute confidence in your ability, and am certain that you will be a valuable asset to the war effort.” He stepped forward, and politely held the door for me. “Fare you well until next we meet, Shadow. May the sun bless your path.”
Anypony who has read some of the previous releases of Shadow’s memoirs will note that I’m skipping past some material at this point. There is a very simple reason for that, but one I’ll need to take a moment to explain.
The next section of Shadow’s memoirs is widely believed to be an addition by one of the early editors, rather than an organic part of the memoirs themselves. The rather infamous biographer Noun Verb (yes, that’s seriously his name) had a bizarre fondness for minute details and lots of primary source material, and liked to incorporate all of that into the biographies he edited. The end result being biographies that are completely packed with all kinds of details academic historians love, but which most readers find utterly useless unless you need a fast-acting sedative.
In fairness to Noun Verb, the section he’s suspected of adding was training reports written by Shadow herself, rather than stuff he just made up. However, twenty pages of “The recruits are slowly learning” and reports on minor disciplinary incidents is not especially compelling reading. (Incidentally, though there’s no consensus on it, I suspect Noun Verb was also responsible for the ridiculously detailed parade description in Manehatten).
Thus, I’ve decided to spare you all exposure to the long, dry, and horrendously detailed account of the training regimen for the Canterlot armies. I think the previous chapter was more than enough to give everypony a good idea of how the army was going to be trained, and sadly training montages don’t translate well to written stories. For one thing, there’s no cheesy but oddly inspiring music.
Instead of boringness, I’m including another entry from Dusk’s own memoirs.
Commander Rightly was not happy.
Most ponies would think this was because of all the trouble Polaris had been causing us. Against everypony’s expectations, one of those pampered unicorn nobles was actually proving to be a thorn in our side. Granted, we would shortly learn that he was actually just parroting whatever his advisors told him to say, but even that’s a lot more common sense than one would expect from the unicorn nobility. Conventional wisdom says that they look down on common sense, on account of it being entirely too common for their rarefied tastes.
Instead of marching his army out into the open and letting us destroy it, Polaris had elected to not be an idiot, and was harassing us instead. It was proving annoyingly effective; he might not have done anything to seriously impact our fighting ability, but having occasional patrols and foraging parties disappear or watching any unguarded supply caches go up in flames was a constant annoyance. Doubly so since the unicorns were using magic to evade all our efforts to locate them and respond in kind. It also seemed to be stiffening the spines of the local Loyalists, to the point where some of the earth pony villages were less than accommodating when our forces showed up to liberate them.
If not for the fact that all of our intelligence—or at least the portion of it that I overheard as part of the hetairoi —said that Shadow was still in Canterlot, we would have suspected that she was the one truly leading the army. After all, no unicorn could actually command an army effectively enough to frustrate the brave warriors of Pegasopolis. Naturally there was a great deal of complaining that the unicorns were resorting to dishonorable tactics. What exactly was dishonorable about their tactics was never clear—I suspect the main point of complaint was that they were fighting back somewhat effectively rather than being cut down like wheat to the scythe.
But I digress. Commander Rightly was angry. However, contrary to what one would expect, Commander Rightly’s objection was not to the fact that Polaris was causing our army no end of frustration. Rather, he was complaining because a solution to the problem had finally presented itself. One he did not care for. And so he angrily stalked about Swift Blade’s headquarters in Manehatten, his glares and grumbles making his mood plain enough to any who had eyes and ears. The rest of the Ephorate was in attendance, as well as myself and Lance in our capacities as hetairoi . Nopony seemed especially eager to speak with the Commander, though.
Finally, Commander Rightly turned on Swift and let loose. “When last we spoke on the subject, were we not agreed that working alongside warlocks and other such foul creatures was unacceptable? That we would not seek the aid of Nightmare Moon’s followers?”
“We were.” In contrast to the Commander, Swift Blade sat calmly at his desk in the Chancellor’s Mansion. The Free Earth Pony Provisional Government had not yet selected a successor to Apple Tree, and Swift seemed quite at ease in his new position. Though he was formally only serving as a Pegasopolan liaison to the earth ponies, his influence far outstripped that of a normal ambassador. “However,” Swift continued, “I did not seek their aid, or make any kind of bargain with them. They offered information we needed, and freely. Or would you prefer that we not know the location of Polaris’s army?”
Ephor Cyclone Kicker answered that with a dismissive snort. “Warlocks give nothing for free. You simply do not grasp the price they would demand of you. It is an old tactic: a few small favors given freely, until one becomes accustomed to accepting their aid. Then, once a dependency is established, they begin making their demands.” The blind old stallion snapped his wings shut. “I saw it many times when I served with the mage hunters. My advice, Commander? Execute the lot of them.”
“Execution?” Swift stared at Cyclone, incredulity plain on his face. “With all respect, Ephor, executing ponies who have offered us their friendship hardly seems like a sensible course of action. ‘Twill be rather difficult to persuade any unicorns to join with us if we execute the first skilled magi who offer to enlist in our cause.”
“Working with the dark arts will drive away far more unicorns than we could ever gain,” Cyclone countered. “Further, those few who would join us under those circumstances would be of the worst sort. Criminals and scum.”
“Which makes ‘warlock’ a very useful label for the Sun Tyrant to apply to her enemies within Unicornia, neigh?” Swift let out a disbelieving snort. “They may be criminals under Celestia’s laws, but so are we. There is not e’en any proof of wrongdoing on their part, beyond their participation in an organization outlawed by the very same mare who has declared us outlaws.”
“They are warlocks,” Cyclone declared. “That is proof enough.”
As the two ephors debated, Mother approached Lance and I, her voice dropping to a whisper. “The Commander will shortly ask for Steel’s opinion and my own. ‘Tis his way. I would have thy thoughts first.”
“Ephor Kicker has the right of it,” Lance instantly responded. “Nothing good can ever come of consorting with those who would call upon the dark arts. They are criminals, and should be dealt with as such. Especially if we are to convince the rest of Equestria that we stand for righteousness and the preservation of our traditional freedoms.” Lance frowned, and shook her head. “I would e’en say that we should find some means of contacting the Solars, and warning them that they’ve a traitor in their midst. Dishonorable tactics have no place on the battlefield.”
“I think forewarning the enemy might be too generous, dear child.” Mother offered her an approving smile. “Still, thy honor does thee credit.”
“You see what comes of mating with a Doo, Mother?” I turned to Lance, an easy grin on my face. “You have produced a mare who is constitutionally incapable of speaking a full sentence without mentioning honor at least once.” I shifted my voice to an imitation of my sister’s. “I shall now brush my mane—with honor! Then I shall eat my bread—with honor!”
Lance offered me an unamused glower. “Mind thy rear, brother.” A moment after she spoke the warning, her wing cuffed the back of my head.
I took the blow in stride. “Attacking somepony from behind. Hardly honorable behavior, sister.”
“I warned thee first,” she answered with a faint smile. “That thou didst fail to defend thyself properly is entirely thine own fault.”
Mother looked between the two of us, mirroring Lance’s smile. “If the two of ye are quite done bickering, I still have not heard Dusk’s thoughts on the matter.”
Ere I answered her, a rather interesting thought struck my own mind, which I shortly gave voice to. “I wonder if matters are e’en entirely as they seem. Warlocks approaching us, in possession of the information we need. It could easily be a trap of some sort. Or a matter of politics within the enemy; I believe ‘tis known that the old vizier, Sunbeam, is an enemy of this Polaris, neigh? And a ruthlessly unscrupulous mare as well. ‘Twould be just like her to use us to eliminate one of her foes, and also blacken the name of our own cause by fooling us into associating ourselves with warlocks.”
Mother offered me a slight nod at that. “An intriguing theory, Dusk. One that may, in fact, bear further investigation.” Mother turned her back on my sister and I, then cleared her throat to draw everypony’s attention. “If I might suggest a compromise, Commander? Let us simply imprison the suspected warlocks until such time as we can properly determine their guilt or innocence of any true crimes. ‘Twill give us ample time to investigate the matter at our leisure without giving the appearance that we are in league with questionable forces. And ‘twill also give us ample time to verify the information we have received from these ponies.” Mother turned to Swift, and frowned. “For all we know, these warlocks could be agents of Celestia attempting to lead us into a trap.”
Ephor Striker offered a single nod. “Reasonable.”
Rightly looked between Cyclone and Swift, and judged them to be equally unhappy with Mother’s suggestion. Most would say that was a sign that she had struck a fitting compromise between the two. He offered Mother a nod of his own. “‘Tis agreed, then. These warlocks Swift claims have aided him will be imprisoned until such time as a proper trial can be arranged.” The Commander turned to Swift, and fixed him with a disapproving glower. “As for thee ... I think Manehatten suits thee. Do not expect to join us in the field, until such time as I am convinced that there will be no further lapses in judgment on thy part. Do not repeat this mistake, if thou art fond of thy place in the Ephorate.” (1)
1: Unsurprisingly, considering how pegasus warrior pride works, sticking Swift Blade in a rear-area administrative job far from the battlefield is an extremely harsh punishme nt. Even though his talents lay in logistics, pegasus leaders were expected to fight on the frontlines with their clans . In the eyes of Pegasopolis, if you didn’t lead from the front, you weren’t a real leader.
The other Ephors filed out of the room, with my sister and I accompanying them. We left Swift to his shame in Manehatten. In hindsight, that was a mistake.
Two days later, Commander Rightly led a force of two divisions out of Manehatten. Not enough to cripple us if ‘twas a trap, but large enough to have three pegasi for every unicorn if the warlocks’ estimate of the Loyalist numbers was accurate.
We arrived at an empty stretch of barren farmland halfway between Manehatten and Fillydelphia. Or at least, the area appeared to be naught but empty, unoccupied farmland. However, we had been forewarned of the reasons for that. All manner of spellwork, primarily a combination of traditional illusions combined with subtle suggestions that there was absolutely nothing of interest in the area. Several patrols had passed o’er the area previously without incident.
However, such spellwork was of little use once the enemy’s location was already known. Such has always been the greatest weakness of subtle magics: compulsions powerful enough to drive away those who knew of the camp’s location would have been far more noticeable.
Now, we made ready for battle. I will confess that I was in the grip of considerable anxiety on the eve of it. Though I had trained and served in the Long Patrol, this would be the first time I raised my weapons ‘gainst a pony. Well, beyond sparring matches, the odd scuffle with my fellow pegasi, and my brief stint playing at gendarme while in Manehatten. Certainly nothing on the scale of a mass battle ‘gainst an army of other ponies. Though it shames me to admit it, on the eve of battle I was afraid. Not to the point of fleeing the field of battle, but there was a cold dread in my heart.
I think what truly troubled me was one of the first lessons I received from my mother. Each of the three pony tribes has a place in the world: the earth ponies' farm, the unicorns attend to all the magical crafts, and the pegasi fight. To be born with wings is to be a guardian, a protector of ponykind. But now ‘twas no longer so. Though I had long heard that we went to war to protect all ponykind ‘gainst the crimes of the Sun Tyrant, it sat ill with me to think that I would shortly be attempting to skewer one of the ponies I’d sworn to protect.
Rather than spend all the time ere the battle began polishing my armor and checking my lance, I wandered the camp. I did not have any particular destination in mind, and shortly found myself among the chirurgeons. Though the magic of unicorns is a great aid in the medical arts, the other pony races are not ignorant of it. Pegasopolis would be a poor warrior society if we had no means of treating our own wounded.
Given my location, ‘twas only natural that I sought out Dawn. I have always been especially fond of her, out of all my siblings. I suspect her gentle nature played a part of that; as an elder brother, ‘twas my duty to look to her safety. I would almost wonder at how Mother could produce a daughter who had nothing of a warrior’s ways about her, were it not for those rare moments when Mother could act as a parent rather than the proud warrior queen of our clan.
Dawn carried Mother's features, and her mane as well, though her eyes were the wrong color. In truth, were her coat orange rather than the ashen grey she likely inherited from her sire, I might be forgiven for thinking her Mother given new form. The resemblance only extended to the physical, though; where Mother wore her confident eagerness before all but her children, Dawn's disquiet was poorly hidden. 'Tis not to call my sister a mare who would shirk her duties—far from it—but those duties weighed heavily upon her.
She looked up from a pot where she was boiling linens in preparation for the coming battle, and favored me with a smile. “Dusk.” She stepped forward and offered me a brief nuzzle. “I am glad to see thee, brother.”
“And I thee, dear sister.” I returned the gesture with equal affection. “I trust thou art well? Much as I enjoy spending time with thee, I do hope that I will not have need of thy services after the battle’s ending.”
“I pray that it does not come to pass.” Dawn took one of my hooves, squeezing it. “May I make a confession to thee, brother?”
I favored her with a grin. “If ‘tis a confession regarding that young clanless stallion I have seen thine eyes lingering upon, I am already quite aware of it. And I am, of course, already in the process of making plans with Lance for his swift and painful demise.”
“Dusk!” Dawn’s cheeks pinked at my proclamation. “Nothing of the sort has happened!” She ducked her head, softly grumbling under her breath as she struggled to regain her composure. “Thou art the most terrible of brothers, and sometimes I struggle to recall why I love thee so dearly.” She took a deep breath, and a smile returned to her face. “Yet I am pleased to see thee, despite thy jests. In truth, I had thought to confess that I was fearful of the coming battle, but thy presence here has already calmed me. If thou art so fearless as to play the jester ere we go into battle, then I shall be brave too.”
My sister’s words stiffened my resolve far more effectively than a simple reassurance could have. The normal platitudes about bravery’s place on the field would have done little to dispel my own fears, for I had heard them dozens of times before. My sister’s admiration was a far more effective solution. If I gave her bravery, then ‘twould not do to seem less than worthy of playing the part.
“Fear not, sister. I will protect thee.” I offered her a final embrace, then parted company with her. ‘Twould not do to be absent from my place in Commander Rightly’s hetairoi .
An hour later, I stood at Sierra Doo’s side along with the rest of the hetairoi . The Commander had our forces ready to begin the attack and so far as we had been able to determine, the enemy did not yet know of our presence. The very secrecy they relied upon to keep them hidden from us now worked ‘gainst them. They had no forward perimeter or scouting patrols, for either of those would have made their discovery far more likely. Until we pierced the veil hiding their camp, they were as blind to our presence as we had been to theirs. If there were detection spells outside the illusion, then either Cyclone’s forces found some way to undo them or the warlocks within the camp had sabotaged the spells. A few enemy units had exited the veil or returned from prior raids since our arrival, but thus far we had succeeded in neutralizing them ere they could warn the main base of our impending attack.
Still, the attack would need to begin quickly. ‘Twould not be long ere one of our scouts was spotted, one of the enemy eluded us, or the absence of forces due to return aroused suspicion. E’en with our camp being cloudborne, the unicorns would have to be fools indeed if they did not look to the skies. It had taken just over two hours to move all our forces into position after the flight. Already the Commander feared that we might have lost the element of surprise, but attacking whilst our ranks were still in disarray might well have proven disastrous. E’en if the enemy were forewarned, we had the advantage of numbers.
I was not present for the battle’s commencement, as my place was at Commander Rightly’s side. Unlike Mother, Commander Rightly did not insist on accompanying the vanguard into battle. ‘Twould see that he preferred to hold back and view the battle’s development, then commit himself, his clan, and the hetairoi to the battle’s decisive point. He judged piercing enemy lines or blunting an assault more important than being first into the fray.
Thus, I had the pleasure of sitting back and watching as the battle began. The illusory veil protecting the camp was undone, though whether by treachery from within or the efforts of our mage-hunters I know not. Cyclone’s Kickers and those others of our numbers with mage-hunter training lead the charge alongside Mother, closing with the enemy ere they could e’en begin to mount an effective defense.
My contemplation of the battle was rudely interrupted by my younger brothers. “A pity we cannot join the fray.” Thunder and Flash, the twins. Both were stupid, arrogant, and hot-headed—especially when in one another’s company. Each was prone to encourage the other to new heights of foolishness. I have heard it said that their personalities were much like Mother’s in her youth, ere foalbirth and responsibility tempered the fire in her heart with wisdom and experience.
“I am quite content to remain above the field with the lightning artillery for now.” I gestured to the nearby stormclouds and their attendant pegasi. Already they were hard at work, lashing the enemy camp with bolt after bolt of electricity. “Our duty is to Commander Rightly, and he remains here to observe the battlefield as a whole. If thou dost object to that, mayhaps thou couldst attempt to persuade Mother that four of her children in the hetairoi is a touch excessive.” In truth, I suspect Mother had placed them in the hetairoi in the hopes that they would learn a measure of discipline.
“There is no glory or renown to be had in watching other ponies do battle,” Thunder groused.
“Aye, how are we to demonstrate our valor if we do not have the chance to slay any unicorns?” Flash agreed.
Sierra, at my side as befit her place as my wingmare, rolled her eyes and grumbled under her breath. “Young stallions. Always so desperate to prove themselves...”
“As a stallion who has only recently ceased being young myself, I might choose to take offense at that remark.” I offered Sierra a smile to take any condemnation out of the words. “Though I should like to think I was ne’er so brashly foolhardy as they are.”
“Neigh.” Lance glanced back at me, the ghost of a smile playing across her lips. “Thou wert far worse, in thy time.”
While Sierra enjoyed a laugh at my expense, I turned my eyes once more to the battlefield. Though the unicorns had already begun to rally, a fatal blow had been struck in the battle’s opening minute. One of the great strengths of magi is their ability to bring powerful magic to bear at a distance. In close quarters, their options were far more limited, unless they were prepared to risk killing their own alongside our forces. Their efforts in reestablishing a strong front line were further hampered by the efforts of our lightning artillery, which struck mercilessly at any concentrations they could find.
Our stormclouds spotted a particularly large group rallying near the center of the enemy camp and let forth ‘gainst them. This time, however, the attack did not have the desired effect. The lightning lashed out towards them, but halfway to its intended destination the bolts turned and reversed their course, tearing into the very ponies that had unleashed them. As the lightning tore into our ranks, a single unicorn with a copper coat stood out from among the mass of the enemy, his horn glowing brightly.
Commander Rightly saw him as well. “So, ‘twould seem the archmagi have entered the field.” There was a grimness to his tone that foretold what his next order would be. “We had best see to them before they can rally the unicorns and make this any bloodier. With luck, removing the archmagi will break their will, and they will lay down their arms.” Rightly sighed, and gave a shake of his head. “Mayhaps e’en persuade some that Celestia’s cause is hopeless, and wisdom dictates returning to our side.”
‘Twas not hard to guess at the mare who occupied his thoughts, but nopony was so foolish as to speak her name. I thought it a vain hope, though. The stubborn pride of Pegasopolis ran deep in Shadow Kicker; she would likely die ere she accepted surrender.
“Commander,” Lance warned, holding a lens to her eyes. “I can only account for three of the Archmagi. ‘Tis possible that a trap awaits, or that they are engaged in some magical artifice. I would advise caution.”
“Mother has likely already accounted for the two missing Archmagi.” Thunder suggested with a smirk.
Personally, I had another theory: the traitor within the unicorn ranks had been in a position to tell us of their location some time in advance. Unless the unicorns were utter fools, they would have moved their camp regularly to minimize the risk of discovery. That suggested that whoever had betrayed them was a pony of sufficient rank to know the army’s future plans—such as one of the archmagi. ‘Twould certainly explain the absences.
If I were to judge by the scowl on Rightly’s face, the same had occurred to him. “Whate’er the case may be, take prisoner any unicorn who does not resist us, and defeat those who do.” Rightly took a deep breath, then hoisted his lance. “For Pegasopolis and Equestria! Duty to our last!”
“We lead the charge!” I roared alongside my siblings, whilst the other hetairoi offered the battle cries of their own clans. As we took to the air and began our charge, I could not help but note the irony of the fact that we were entering the battle quite some time after its beginning, and that Commander Rightly was in fact leading our charge. Though I suppose, ‘We follow behind the Commander once ‘tis tactically prudent to enter the fray’ would not be an especially inspiring battle cry.
I am sure we made a very impressive sight, charging down from the clouds towards our enemies. Unfortunately, we also presented a very obvious target for the enemy, and a high-priority one given that we were striking directly for their leaders. Thankfully, the hetairoi bear the best armor, rather ironically enchanted by the very magi we now fought ‘gainst. Many of us had also taken the liberty of applying a few plates of cold iron on top of our normal gear, given our likely foes. ‘Twould not protect as well ‘gainst magic as a proper suit of cold iron, but it did not render us vulnerable to proper weapons as armor solely of cold iron would. However, the added weight was a notable hindrance, though one that did not o’erly burden us on the downward charge.
Thus, the fireballs and energy blasts of the magi had little effect as we descended ‘pon them. To be sure they still took a toll, but not nearly enough to break our charge. Thunder let out a triumphant cry as a beam of magical energy deflected off his armor, while Flash shouted down a taunt at the mages. “Is this all you can conjure, unicorns? Thy spells are like a gentle rain ‘pon my helmet!”
Unfortunately, the magi—or at least one among their number—were capable of far more than simply trying to destroy us with brute magical force, especially once ‘twas clear direct attacks would not reduce our numbers in time to break the charge. A pulsing shriek like that of a banshee hammered into me, and I had not possessed the foresight to cover mine ears in cold iron.
Though I suffered no wounds other than bleeding of the ears, the spell’s actual effects were far more insidious. The blast of sound briefly made it all but impossible for me to distinguish left from right or up from down. Though I was only disoriented for a few brief moments, that was more than enough time to thoroughly trouble me when I was in the midst of a diving charge.
I crashed to the ground, my lance thoroughly ruined by the impact, though ‘twas at least still a passable club. However, I had a far greater concern, for I had struck the earth entirely too close to a unicorn soldier. I was in a rather poor state to defend myself as he approached, a hammer lifted high over his head, and the triumphant smile on his face making it all too clear he intended to shortly introduce the hammer to the contents of my skull. Ere he struck, he made a fatal but all too common mistake: he paused to gloat. “Any last words, rebel scum?”
Though I was in no state to block the strike, my eyes turned to the sky, and I met the unicorn’s smile with one of my own. “Aye, I have words, though not my last. After this battle, I think I shall make an effort to kiss my wingmare.”
The unicorn very briefly wore a confused frown, until Sierra Doo’s lance made matters much clearer for him. Sadly, he did not have a chance to speak with me on the matter, on account of being rather dead. Sierra pulled me back to my hooves, quickly searching me for injuries. When she found none, she let out a satisfied grunt. “I would not lose a wingpony. Though if thou dost ever make an attempt to kiss me, I might revise my opinion on the matter.”
Though I would not truly have pursued a married mare, I could not let that remark pass unanswered. “I think 'twould be worth the price. For who wishes to grow old and feeble without knowing the lips of a comely mare?” A moment later I lashed out with the remnants of my lance, catching a unicorn who had been attempting to threaten Sierra’s flanks. The unicorn staggered back, a hoof flying to his wounded skull. Sadly, broken lances are not terribly dangerous when used as improvised clubs, so I had not e’en wounded him enough to do more than briefly delay the threat. “Though perhaps we should defer further discussion on the matter for a better time?”
“‘Twould be prudent.” Sierra agreed, turning her back to mine so that we could face the enemy together. We had unfortunately landed some distance away from the rest of the hetairoi, and entirely too close to many angry and well-armed unicorns.
I shoved the splintered remains of my lance into the throat of the first unicorn who approached me. I suppose ‘twould have been proper to say that I still recall his face and regret the first pony I e’er slew, but in truth I had far too many other concerns at the moment to devote any time to him. The entirety of my mind was far too focused on surviving for the next few moments for guilt to have any place in it.
Though we held the unicorns at bay for a time, we scored no more telling wounds ‘gainst them. I recognized their tactics well enough from my own time in the Long Patrol. We were surrounded, so they harried us, taking no risks and forcing Sierra and I to exhaust ourselves defending ‘gainst strikes from all angles. No sooner had I blocked one blow than another threatened my opposite flank. Needless to say, they pressed us far too closely for Sierra and I to consider flying from the field. ‘Twas a method I had used more than once ‘gainst monsters whom I now felt a sudden and most unwelcome sympathy for.
Ere the unicorns could wear us down and finish us, we faced a new threat. A small blast of lightning came from within the ranks and struck Sierra’s armor. At first I thought the attack had failed, until a moment later when my armor suddenly trebled in weight. ‘Twould appear that either my cold iron plates had been dislodged in my rough landing, or the magus had skill enough to strike one of the many areas the cold iron did not cover. Whate’er the case, I could hardly fight when the very armor I wore pulled me down to the earth. As I fell, I noted that Sierra fell with me, her armor seeming attached to my own so firmly that it might as well have been forged a single whole piece.
The unicorns closed on us, and several raised their weapons. However, ere they could finish us, a commanding voice rang out. “Stay thy blades, we need them alive.” The same magus who had turned our own stormclouds ‘gainst us strode out of the crowd. Now that he was closer, I could clearly see the markings ‘pon his robe that identified him as an archmagus—of the eastern march, to be specific. “Prisoners are of more use to us than corpses.”
Though I would not have dishonored myself by surrendering, my current state rendered me all but helpless to dispute it other than with words, for I was trapped within the very armor that should have protected me. Sierra seemed to fare no better than I. Regardless of whether we offered a formal surrender, ‘twas plain to see that we were indeed prisoners.
“I suppose I should not be surprised that thou art indeed my doom,” Sierra complained, struggling to free herself of her own armor.
I could have wailed and carried on about our lamentable fate at being captured, but in truth I was somewhat relieved. Given that the unicorns had little hope of winning the day, we would likely be rescued soon enough. And e’en if we were not, ‘twould not do to show fear to our enemies. “‘Tis not as bad as all that, dear Sierra,” I attempted to reassure her. “For my part, I had always hoped that I might die lying next to a comely mare.” Admittedly, I had always intended those dreams to come to fruition many, many years hence, and in a comfortable cloud bed rather than lying in the dirt of a battlefield. “Fortune, it seems, is a fickle wench with a foul sense of humor.”
Sierra seemingly grasped my own thought, and continued with it. “Thou art hardly in a position to complain of anypony making a poor jest. I ne’er knew thy mother had sired a foal with a troubadour. Wilt thou sing a song for me, ere we die?”
I confess, the image of my sire singing was entirely too much for my o’erstressed mind, and I threw back my head and roared in laughter. As I did so, I noted the unicorns surrounding us offering one another nervous, uncertain looks. I have often found that mocking opponents in the superior position can induce fear and uncertainty, for it makes them wonder if they are less secure than they think.
However, as I was shortly reminded when one of them interrupted my laughter by introducing my face to his hoof, it could also aggravate one’s enemies considerably. The blow did prove far less bothersome than it might have, for it turned my head to angle that allowed me to lay eyes on a most welcome sight. Moments later, my elder sister announced herself. “Archmagus! Lance Charger, Captain of the Hetairoi , challenges you to single combat!”
“Lance.” I smiled up at her as best I could. “Thou art late. Sierra has already rescued me.” I glanced back at my wingmare. “Admittedly, her results left something to be desired. The effort was still appreciated, though.”
Lance and the archmagus both paid me no mind. Thankfully, the unicorn soldiers seemed inclined to respect her challenge, for the moment. The lightning mage stepped forward, looking warily to my sister. “What terms would you offer for the duel?”
Lance’s eyes briefly turned to me. “The battle goes badly for you, Archmagus. Unicornia’s forces are in disarray, and the Commander has likely already made Polaris his prisoner. I offer terms that reflect this reality: if I am the victor, you and your forces will surrender yourselves into honorable captivity, and release any prisoners you have. If you are the victor, I offer you my word of safe conduct from the battlefield. Should I perish, my brother will see it done.”
Well, I would certainly attempt it. I was less than certain that I could persuade Mother to let Lance’s killer walk free, regardless of any oaths given.
The Archmagus considered his situation, but not for long. “I am Copper Spark, Archmagus of the Eastern March, and I accept your challenge.” As Lance had said, his position was distinctly unenviable. There was little reason for him to refuse the duel; e’en if he lost, he would be no worse off than if he simply surrendered now, presuming he survived the contest with Lance. Meanwhile, victory offered him the very real chance of escape. Objectively, Lance should have offered less generous terms. However, given that she had requested this duel in order to save me from unicorn captivity, I was not inclined to question her judgement.
The spell pinning myself and Sierra to the ground lifted, but no sooner had I risen from the ground than I found the unicorns closing ‘round the two of us and bearing us back as the troops formed an impromptu dueling circle. Though the scene was at first dominated by the unicorns, ‘twas not long ere pegasi began arriving to bear witness as well. (2)
2: These sorts of ad-hoc duels were a fairly common feature of warfare in this era, as it was considered proper for high ranking officers to battle one another rather than simply letting the common soldiers handle the task.
Our forces and theirs formed an impromptu dueling ring about the two, enclosing them within a relatively tight battlefield. Lance might have preferred having more room to maneuver, but—by the same token—the magus likely would have appreciated being able to cast his spells from a safe distance. I judged the enclosure to not especially favor either combatant.
Thankfully, there were other means by which I might grant my sister some small advantage. Ere the combatants took their places, Lance flew to my side to ask after my condition. Though I was well enough, I did not waste the opportunity to offer a few quick words of warning. “His lightning is potent on its own, but the true danger comes from another of his spells. I do not know the full of it, but it draws metal to metal. ‘Tis most unpleasant.”
Rather than gratitude, Lance met my warning with a scowl. “Hold thy tongue, Dusk. I will not have an unfair advantage in this duel.” She let out an annoyed snort, then turned her back on me.
To my immense dismay, she then stepped forward to meet the magus. “Sir, I have just been given foreknowledge of your spells. As compensation, I will allow you to use your magnetic spell ‘pon me with no resistance, as would have been the case if it had taken me unawares. Do you judge this fair compensation for the infraction?”
My sister is noble. My sister is a paragon of Pegasopolan virtue. My sister is an idiot.
A faint smile crossed the magus’s face, and he nodded to my sister. “More than fair. Shall we begin?” As soon as my sister signalled her own readiness, he employed that very spell. Unlike with myself and Sierra, there was no nearby partner for her to adhere to. Instead, he simply drove her to the ground, increasing the weight of her armor far beyond what any pony could carry in flight. “Yield,” the mage advised her. “Your valor is admirable, but you wore metal armor to battle ‘gainst a master of lightning. Victory was ne’er possible, so there is no shame in admitting defeat.”
Lance groaned, straining ‘gainst the sudden, massive weight she bore. Slowly, inexorably, she moved her legs, struggling to set all her hooves to the ground. “I will not yield.” She planted all four of her hooves on the ground, and began pushing ‘gainst her own armor’s weight. “I am a warrior of Pegasopolis; I do not yield to any foe of Equestria.” She let out a massive shout of effort as she applied her full strength to the simple effort of rising to her hooves, the muscles in her legs bulging while her wings frantically beat at the air, providing whatever lift they could to aid her.
At first, the archmagus remained calmly confident, content to let my sister exhaust herself attempting to o’ercome his spell. That arrogance swiftly vanished when Lance actually managed to rise a short distance off the ground. That first inch seemed the hardest for Lance to manage, though I am unsure whether ‘twas due to the nature of the spell, or if her success in resisting it shook the magus so badly that his spell faltered.
He did not let her rise unmolested. His horn glew brighter, and fresh sweat beaded on his brow as he strained to keep her in place with his spell. Despite his efforts, Lance continued. Soon it seemed that his spell required as much of him as my sister’s struggles did of her. Once ‘twas clear that the spell would not suffice by itself, he resorted to less sophisticated tactics, rising up on his hind legs, then slamming his hooves down on her shoulders. The blow drove my sister to the ground, but moments later she was once more struggling back to her hooves. The magus struck her once more. “Desist. You cannot win.”
“Then why am I not yet beaten?” My sister responded. When next she rose and the magus attempted to pound her to the ground once more, she lashed out with one of her forelegs. One of her armored hooves caught his front knee, causing the joint to bend backwards in a way nature had not intended. The magus staggered back, clutching his wounded limb to his chest, and my sister finally regained her hooves.
The archmagus quickly gained what distance he could from Lance, though his mobility was greatly hampered by the effective loss of one of his limbs and the impromptu dueling circle. He answered Lance’s blow by lashing her with his lightning, arcs of electricity hammering into my sister with such intensity that I was truly amazed that she survived it. Logic would say ‘twas likely due to the cold iron plates ‘pon her armor protecting her, but at the time it seemed something far different. That for all the lightning the magus poured into her, Lance resisted his attack with sheer fortitude and strength of will. (3)
3: It’s also worth mentioning that pegasi tend to have a higher natural resistance to electricity than the other pony breeds, likely as a result of our natural affinity for weather magic. Plus, turning the pegasus lightning artillery against them probably took a lot of power out of him, while Lance was still fairly fresh. I would also imagine Copper was trying very hard to get a surrender out of Lance, especially if he shared Dusk’s doubts about Bright Charger letting him leave, promise or not.
Still, the duelists were at a standstill. It took all that Lance had to simply remain standing and endure the archmagus’ onslaught, while the magus himself applied his full strength to attacking her. However, there was one critical difference ‘tween the two. ‘Twas a subtle thing, but the longer Lance endured, the wider the archmagus’ eyes grew, and the more sweat poured down his face as he strained to continue his assault. ‘Twas plain that he had not expected to meet anypony who could endure the full force of his magic, and the longer she did so the more fear took root in his heart.
I do not know whether ‘twas fear or simple exhaustion that made his spell falter. ‘Twas only for a brief moment, but that was all Lance required to close the distance so that the weapon for which she was named hovered a hair’s breadth away from the mage’s chest. The nearness of the threat drove the archmagus to new heights. This time he struck not by increasing the weight of her armor but by tightening it around her until the edges of her plates cut into her flesh.
‘Tween that and his continued electrical attacks, he succeeded in driving Lance to her knees. ‘Twould seem e’en my sister’s impossible strength had its limits. His lightning bolts coursed across her armor, causing her limbs to spasm in response. The sharp stench of ozone was thick in the air, and I could see the smoke curling from Lance’s body as the assault continued. His eyes flicked down to her weapon, and with a flash he tore the metal spearhead from its wooden shaft, leaving her with naught but a length of wood ending in a jagged, broken tip.
And yet, despite that, Lance continued forward, somehow managing to force her wildly twitching limbs to slowly carry her nearer her enemy. The magus tried to back away from her but soon he found himself constrained by the circle of ponies watching the combat. To his misfortune, his back was to our own lines, and my fellow pegasi were not inclined to make room for him to retreat further.
The unicorn attempted to move to the side, going around Lance to buy himself more maneuvering room. However, his wounded leg failed him at a critical moment, causing him to briefly stumble, and for a moment his assault on my sister ceased as his lightning flew wild. ‘Twas all the opening Lance needed, and the splintered end of her spear bit into the mage’s flesh. The wound was not especially deep, but it was still a telling one. Judging by what I had seen during my years of service, chest wounds had a clear tendency to make it rather difficult for a magus to concentrate on their spellcasting.
The pain of Lance’s strike seemed to shock the magus into a final desperate effort. His magic lashed my sister once more, this time carrying her into the air and blasting her away from him. However, e’en as the blow fell his strength waned, and his knees buckled as he brought a hoof to his wounded chest. For some time both combatants remained at a distance, both struggling to press forward through their respective injuries. However, where Lance slowly recovered from the lightning that had lashed her flesh, the magus steadily lost blood from the hole Lance had left in his breast.
Lance was the first to regain her hooves, gasping at the effort required. “Archmagus, can you continue?” The magus offered no response other than a failed attempt to stand on his own power, and wiping at the blood trickling from his mouth. Lance judged his silence and failure to rise answer enough, and drew back. “I have the victory. Take him to thy chirurgeons, soldiers of Unicornia.”
Though a noble gesture, I judged it a futile pleasantry. The archmagus’ wound would likely claim his life ere they could e’en convey him to their medicae. Though I had heard of some who survived worse wounds, they were hardened warriors of Pegasopolis, not pampered unicorn magi.
Lance turned her eyes to the rest of the unicorns present. “Surrender thy arms and armor, as agreed in the terms of the duel.” There was a long moment of silence, ere I heard the clatter of a single unicorn spear falling to the ground. That sound was shortly joined by another, and then more and more as the unicorn soldiers reluctantly complied.
I made my way to my sister’s side in time to catch her as she staggered, once the strength that had carried her through the duel faded. Now that I stood nearer her, I could see several places where her coat and sections of the flesh beneath had been blasted away by the sheer force of the magus’ lightning. More than half her mane was lost as well, and in jagged streaks that looked most uncomely. Alas for my poor sister, who had sacrificed her beauty for Pegasopolis. I could but pray that she might somehow regrow the lost hair.
Damage to her vanity aside, ‘twas impressive that she had managed to stand at all with all the wounds she had acquired. I stepped forward and gently bore as much of her weight as I could. “If I might make a suggestion, sister, I think we should make our way to Dawn at once. Sierra, may I have thy aid?” My wingmare wasted no time supporting Lance’s other side; I did not think her in any fit state to fly.
Lance favored me with weak, half-conscious smile. “I think that a visit to Dawn is a lovely suggestion, brother. Pray, if thou must imperil thyself in the future, choose weaker enemies. Rescuing thee has become a most trying experience.”
Author's Note
Due thanks to my pre-reading team for helping out on this one.You guys are awesome.
I was not disobeying Polaris’ orders to avoid engaging the enemy.
I was to accompany Sergeant Stalwart and Captain Greenwall on a training patrol for one of the new units. ‘Twas not a duty one would normally assign to a mare of my rank, but ‘twas far from unusual for leaders to inspect the smaller units under their command. The patrol itself was a simple affair. A few days in the field to aid our new recruits in growing accustomed to their new status as soldiers, as well as breaking up the monotony of continual training.
However, I suspect Crossguard may have harbored a hidden agenda in dispatching myself and the customary honor guard of my own clan. It had not escaped my notice that our route took us east, towards enemy territory. Though we would not take a force of untested soldiers near enough to risk battle with the enemy, ‘twas likely myself and my fellow pegasi would be able to locate some suitable target to engage. We might find an enemy patrol that might have stumbled upon our new recruits, or an opportunity too tempting to ignore.
Whate’er the case, I suspect Crossguard had intentionally provided me this opening to lead some of my clan in a proper battle. Though I would gladly aid the training process, I will concede that at the time I saw it as a less than ideal assignment. I was a warrior of Pegasopolis, and my place was on the battlefield. E’en if that battle brought me ‘gainst Pegasopolis itself, I prefered that to the thought of lingering in Canterlot, preparing others for death and war whilst I slowly grew fat and indolent. ‘Tis difficult to claim the title of warrior if one does not, at some point, make war.
In addition, taking my clan into battle would likely silence some uncomfortable words spoken both within the clan and outside of it. Despite our relocation to Canterlot, both the unicorns and some of my own did not feel that we had fully committed ourselves to Celestia’s cause. Much as I disliked the thought of it, it would require bloodshed to fully bind my clan to the Commander. Until we met the rebels in battle, too many would wonder if we might yet resume our old loyalties.
I did not doubt Gale’s words to me some weeks previously; if I approached Rightly or Cyclone and asked to return to Pegasopolis, they would gladly welcome me. Once blood was shed, that door would be closed. Though I had no intention of pursuing that opportunity, the mere fact of its existence yet lingered over all my actions. In the heat of the moment, leaving Cloudsdale for Canterlot had been an easy choice. Now, as days turned to weeks, my clan’s thoughts lingered on all that they had left behind, and some began to wonder if their sacrifice had been worthwhile.
What had we gained, in exchange for our loyalty to the Commander? We were used as trainers, and denied a place on the battle line. Meanwhile, those who had once been Kickers held a place of honor, with one of their own occupying a usurped seat in the Ephorate. ‘Tis a materfamilias’ duty to see to the advancement of her clan and its interests, and thus far many would say that my choice to align myself with Celestia had done little to serve either. While ‘twas clear the Commander held me in high regard, ‘twas a private respect that was not shown with titles or a public place of honor, nor did it bring glory to the clan as a whole.
Thus, my desire to see our clan in battle. Though politics stood against us for the moment, combat offered us a chance to honor and glory. ‘Twould both stiffen our resolve and our commitment to the Commander’s cause. ‘Twould also serve to remind all of my clan’s place in the world: we were warriors, not mere trainers of earth ponies and unicorns. I suspect my clan would appreciate the reminder just as much—too long had we lingered in the capital while others fought. For all that Polaris’ performance thus far had been satisfactory, ‘twas past time I entered the fray.
Instead, I inspected freshly trained soldiers.
Greenwall’s earth ponies marched in the same hollow square formation they had drilled in for weeks, accompanied by the expected unicorn forces within the square’s center. Among the purposes of this expedition was to accustom them to marching thusly. ‘Twas one thing to hold a formation on the parade ground, and another to hold it through many long hours of movement.
Somepony clearing his throat drew me from my contemplations, and I turned to find myself facing Captain Greenwall. The captain offered me a respectful nod, then spoke his mind. “Ma’am, there is a problem with your sergeant.”
That drew my attention. Stalwart was one of the best instructors I had e’er seen ‘mongst my clan’s ranks. That a militia captain could find fault with him was curious, but I was at least willing to hear his words. “Explain, if thou wouldst.”
“He’s helping us too much.” Greenwall seemed to grasp the strangeness of his complaint, and expanded ‘pon it. “Whenever our formation gets a bit sloppy or a soldier is out of place, he comes flyin’ in and fixes the problem.”
“That is a sergeant’s role,” I answered levelly.
“Aye, I know it. ‘Tis simply that...” Greenwall paused, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. “Ma’am, once we get into a proper battle, I imagine he’ll be somewhere else. I understand he wants to train us up, and what with him flying and all he can probably check our positioning better than any of our own ponies. Thing is, we gotta learn t’stand on our own eventually. Rather have our first experience with it be now, rather than when we’re fighting for real.”
I was surprised by Greenwall’s insight into the matter. He raised a valid concern, though I suspect he may have been slightly overstating the degree of the sergeant’s involvement. Still, ‘twas something worth speaking with the sergeant o’er, e’en if only to confirm that Greenwall’s concerns were, in fact, o’erstated. ‘Twould not do to seem dismissive of the forces under my command.
I took wing, and moved to Stalwart’s position. The sergeant was currently in the skies above our square, his eyes fixed on the earth ponies composing the formation. As one of the soldiers stepped half a length out of place, he swiftly dove down and corrected the problem, gently pointing out the error.
I was struck by the difference in his methods, compared to his normal performance. Stalwart was not so gentle of an instructor when working within our clan. That is not to say he was harsh or wantonly cruel, but he would not hesitate to strike a recruit if such would demonstrate a weakness in the pony’s defenses. Nor would he have felt the need to correct a soldier for such a minor flaw. A formation at march will not maintain perfect cohesion, and the earth pony had not strayed so far as to require the sergeant’s intervention. ‘Twould seem that mayhaps Greenwall’s concerns were not invalid.
He returned to the skies swiftly enough, making his way to my side and offering a sharp salute. “Materfamilias. Was there something you wished for?”
“Aye.” I frowned at him, my own eyes now turning to the earth ponies as well. “Thy methods have changed from what I am accustomed to.”
Stalwart considered the matter, and conceded the point with a nod. “Aye, that they have. One cannot train warriors of Pegasopolis the same way one would train a farmer who until a month ago had not e’en carried a pike.”
“‘Tis so,” I agreed readily. “However, thy current conduct inclines me to wonder when my sergeant decided to dote ‘pon his trainees like a grandmother would ‘pon a favored foal. The enemy will not be so kind to them.”
Sergeant Stalwart blinked in surprise at my reprimand. “Milady Shadow, with all respect, I do not think the earth ponies or unicorns would care for harsher instruction. They were not born as warriors, and treating them as such would not end well. In truth, that we must use them at all sits ill with me. ‘Tis our place to defend them, that they might be spared the horrors of battle. A task, ‘twould seem, that we have failed at.”
“The situation is as it is, sergeant.” My gaze dropped to the formation, and I noted that it had remained in good order despite Stalwart’s lack of attention. “Coddling our new recruits does them a disservice. They will not thank thee for thy kindness when they die ‘pon a rebel lance. Further, thy constant hovering does little to impress them with their own skills, or grant them faith in their own leaders.”
“I do not think I have been that gentle with them, milady.” There was a touch of offended pride in the sergeant’s voice, though he took pains to conceal it. “However, I shall bear your words in mind while conducting their training.”
I thought that a satisfactory answer, and further discussion of the matter would only deepen the injury to the sergeant’s pride. when next one of the soldiers strayed from his appointed place in the formation, Stalwart restrained himself, and within a matter of seconds one of the earth pony leaders corrected his errant soldier. ‘Twould seem Greenwall was correct in his belief that the earth ponies could tend to their own. Not so well as they would have done with Stalwart’s supervision, but more than adequate.
Stalwart turned his eyes to the horizons, likely hoping that averting his gaze from the soldiers would allow him to more easily resist the urge to intervene in their affairs. ‘Twas likely because of that attention to other matters that he was the first to note the approaching menace. “Milady Shadow! Pegasi approach from the east!”
I quickly followed Stalwart’s pointing leg, spotting the distant figures on the horizons. Though they were yet too distant for any clan markings to be distinguishable, I did not know of any other allied pegasi in the area, and that combined with the fact that they approached us from rebel-held territory made it prudent to assume they were hostile. ‘Twould seem that the thing I had both wished for and hoped to avoid would soon come to pass. Ere the day was done, my wing-blades would drink the blood of another pegasus.
I quickly signalled the other members of my clan, and they fell into formation around me. As my clanmates positioned themselves, my eyes remained on our approaching enemies. They were not moving directly towards us or in any proper formation. ‘Tween that and the fact that they were frequently swooping towards the ground, I could guess at what must be occurring. They had engaged some foe on the ground, who currently occupied their attention. An enemy of the rebels would likely be one of our own allies. Mayhaps we had even come across one of the more distant detachments of Polaris’ army.
Given that information, my course seemed clear. “The enemy is near, and our own forces are under attack. We must relieve them. Kickers, with me. Greenwall, follow as best thou canst.”
My words sent a nervous tremble through the conscripts beneath us, and Greenwall hesitated. “Ma’am? Are you sure about that? Wasn’t this supposed to be a training exercise?”
Stalwart also spoke, though with the carefully chosen words of a sergeant addressing his materfamilias. “Shall I send forward scouts to determine where we should have Greenwall’s forces hold while we engage the enemy?”
I had neither the time nor the inclination to address their concerns. “All our conscripts will have their first battle in due time. These shall simply experience it sooner. Take no needless risks, but do not let caution make cowards of us either.” With my order made plain, I took wing for the battle.
As I drew nearer, my suspicions were confirmed—the pegasi were harrying a force of unicorns who looked to be a part of Polaris’ forces. The unicorns were galloping as fast as their hooves could carry them for the cover of a nearby orchard, but they still had more than a mile to cross ere they arrived. Ample time for the rebels to extract a heavy toll on them.
Thankfully, the rebels seemed fully fixed ‘pon their target, and they had either not yet noted our approach, or had assumed that we were reinforcements rather than a hostile force. E’en if they saw our armor, they might well think us some of the rebels who had abandoned my clan. Whate’er the case was, they would pay for their negligence. Though they had numbers on my own contingent of pegasi, I suspected we could make the most of the advantage of surprise. Given that the enemy appeared to be a pursuit force, they would likely break contact once they realized they were facing a counter-attack.
“Perhaps a diekplous?” (1) I turned to the sergeant for confirmation of my suggestion.
1: Another Old Pegasopolan term. Literally translates to “Flying out through.” The maneuver is traditionally performed in a column. While Shadow makes no mention of which she used for this engagement, her other battles indicate that she used a modified version of the traditional diekplous, utilizing a looser formation to maximize the disruption to enemy ranks (though at an increased risk of becoming bogged down within the enemy formation.).
“What I would have advised if asked, milady,” Stalwart agreed.
I quickly beat my wings to gain altitude, then spread my full span, angling them so that I began to drop into a sharp dive. Not so steep that I could not avert a collision with the ground below, but more than sufficient to add momentum to my charge. I briefly lamented the absence of a lance; though ‘twas not my weapon of choice, ‘twould have been ideal for my current circumstances.
As I had hoped would be the case, the enemy did not grasp their peril until we were upon them. ‘Twas an irony that their doom came from failing to watch the skies above them, given that such had too often been a failing of those enemies of ours who were confined to the ground. Though the lapse was understandable, when they were embroiled with a groundbound enemy and the rebels had the loyalty of all but a small fraction of the pegasi.
I briefly tucked my wings against my side to add to the speed for my fall, then extended my blades once more, angling myself so that I would pass ‘tween their ranks. As I passed ‘tween two of the rebels, my left blade bit deep into one wing, while the right scraped along another enemy’s armor. To my surprise, the contact caused the blade to glow a bright orange-red, like steel freshly taken from a thunderforge, and it sank through the enemy’s armor to bite into his flank, cutting a line across the pony’s mark. In hindsight, I should have expected that Sunbeam Sparkle’s efforts would have made my blades keener, and that fire would be an element of her enhancement.
No sooner had I cleared the two of them than I was forced into a hasty spin that barely allowed me to avoid a collision with one of the rebels. As it was, one of my armored hind hooves caught him in the stomach, the impact sending a jarring shock through the entire limb.
Once I had broken through the enemy ranks I hastily flared my wings, turning as much of my momentum as I could into a fresh rise, lest I plow into the ground at a distinctly unhealthy velocity. As I once more ascended to combat height, I saw the enemy in disarray. I did not think I had slain any of the three I had wounded in my flight, nor did I think it likely my clanmates had killed many of the enemy. That had not been our objective. Rather, we had sown chaos and confusion in their ranks, making it that much easier to cut them down or drive them from the field.
I came about and prepared to engage my next opponent only to find myself facing another pony in red armor. Worse, I knew this mare: Spark Kicker, who had once foolishly challenged Bright Charger to a duel on a minor point of honor. She had remained in Pegasopolis when the clan departed. I had hoped I would not meet my kin in battle so soon.
Her own eyes widened in recognition as she realized who she faced, and we both hesitated. Whatever our differences in politics, we were yet kinsmares. After some hesitation, she finally spoke. “Depart the field, Shadow. Your unicorn allies lie defeated behind us, and they were the best Unicornia had. You have nothing left to fight for.”
I knew not of what she spoke regarding my beaten allies, though I could imagine several explanations, few of which I cared for. Whatever the case, I could ill afford the time to worry myself on the matter now. “Lay down thy arms, Spark. Thou canst not defeat me in battle.”
Though my kinsmare scowled at my words, she did not dispute them. “I would sooner die than dishonor myself with craven surrender to a mare who betrayed both clan and country.” She readied her blades, her wary eyes fixed upon me. “I will bear my weapons 'gainst all those who declare themselves foes of Pegasopolis and the true Commander.”
“And I bear mine for Equestria and Commander Celestia, no matter who my enemies might be.” I made ready as well, carefully taking her measure as I readied myself both physically and mentally for battle. “I would not be a kinslayer if I can avoid it, but I will fight if I must.”
Spark’s eyes lingered long on my blades, especially as I felt the heat gathering in them once more. “‘Twould seem you have acquired new blades since your departure. Have you been given toys by your new master, as well as a leash?”
I was in no mood to continue bandying words with her. (2) “I will offer thee one final warning, Spark. Do not force the matter.”
2: And yet, the two of them have spent a good while threatening and posturing instead of actually committing to the fight. From personal experience, there’s usually not this much talking unless one or both ponies don’t really want a fight (or at least don’t want a fight in that time/place/manner).
Spark’s wings flared open. “Come whet your new unicorn blades with my blood, then, and lay bare the degradation of your nature.” She let out a contemptuous snort. “I am unsurprised at your readiness to shed kinsblood when you act in the service of a mare who slew her sister, though I am still saddened to see one of our own fallen so low.”
“Not fallen.” I began closing the gap towards her. “Risen. I will do what I must, in the service of the one true Commander of Pegasopolis: Celestia.”
“You have fallen far indeed, in your short time among the unicorns. So far that you cannot e’en see it.” Her eyes flitted to the side, taking note of the state of the rebel forces. As I had hoped would be the case, my initial assault had so disordered the enemy that they had opted for a withdrawal rather than to stand and fight. Spark noted the flight of her comrades, and shook her head. “‘Twould seem that fortune smiles ‘pon us yet, for your eagerness to shed kinsblood shall go unsated this day.”
She slowly backed away, keeping a wary eye on myself and all the ponies in my clan. I signalled them, and they provided Spark with a clear lane to exit the battlefield. Though I might yet face my own kin on the battlefield, and be forced to shed their blood, it would not be this day. My rebel kinsmare wasted no time in securing her escape.
Once the rebels were fully departed from the field, I made my way to ground, to see who we had rescued from the enemy. The force of unicorns was in a sorry state, lying on the ground as if they had simply collapsed the instant they realized they need no longer flee for their lives. Those few who were uninjured—though ‘twould be more accurate to say that their wounds were simply light enough to allow them to continue functioning—tended to their more severely injured brethren. Horns glowed in all colors as they tended their wounded in grim, exhausted silence, and many a stained uniform was cast aside to allow the chirurgeons access to their charges.
As I had suspected would be the case, the unicorns’ equipment marked them as members of Polaris’ force. I quickly searched for a leader among their ranks, and quickly found a familiar one-eyed stallion. The mercenary commander was in a sorry state, but where the proud soldiers and magi of Unicornia looked unnaturally worn and ragged, Famous Spear wore his torn cloak and damaged armor with an ease that bespoke a pony who had often made do with such. Even the dirty bandage covering one of his legs seemed a natural addition. “Famous Spear. What has passed here?”
The mercenary turned to me, his shoulders sagging with relief. “We were ambushed, Lady Shadow.” He let out a heavy sigh “Betrayal from within the camp, most likely. ‘Twas plain to see our position was hopeless, so I salvaged what I could and fled.” He let out a bitter chuckle. “I do not know who was responsible, though I have a suspicion ‘twill matter little once I am returned to Canterlot. Everypony will suspect the unscrupulous, money-grubbing mercenary, especially since I am one of the battle’s few survivors. I suppose you could not be persuaded to release me?”
I frowned at the request. “I think not, especially given what you have said.”
Famous Spear answered that with a single nod. “I had hoped to avoid the loyalists and secure an escape back to Freeport. Sadly, the pegasi were uncooperative.” His gaze drifted down to his bandaged leg. “Alas, ‘tis not to be. I am in no condition to flee or fight, so I ask that I be held by the Order of Sol Invictus instead of in a royal prison. The Order may hate their prodigal son, but they will not execute me without a trial and proof of guilt.”
“That much, I will grant you.” Though the mercenary’s candor made him seem innocent, I knew all too well that an evil pony could adopt an appearance of innocence when it suited him to do so. Whatever the case, the Order could hold him for the moment, until there was time to properly determine his guilt or innocence. “Is there word of other survivors?”
The mercenary shook his head. “I had more than two hundred ponies when I broke loose from the pegasi,” he answered grimly. “What you see now is the remnant of that.” I counted less than fifty unicorns, and most of those in a sorry state.
“I see.” I judged my business with Spear concluded, and my heart was troubled. If his word could be trusted, there would be little left of Polaris’ army by this point. Archmagi would likely have been one of the priority targets for the enemy. If common soldiers could have come this far by hoof, then Copper likely already would have returned, were he able. I could not afford to think on that matter, though. I had my duty, and my mind should be fixed on it, and it alone.
“Milady.” I started at Stalwart’s voice, and his hoof on my shoulder. When I turned to him, his face was taut with grief and remorse. “Greenwall’s force was engaged by the rebels. Only a few stragglers, and the pikes held well enough. The enemy was caught unawares by their skill and discipline. The earth ponies killed three.” Stalwart paused, and swallowed. “Including one who was once of our clan.”
The words struck like a hammer hoof to the chest. So I was a kinslayer after all. I might not have claimed the blood with my own hooves, but it had been shed nonetheless. E’en as the guilt tightened around my heart like a vise, I forced it from my mind. I could not wallow in self-recrimination when Equestria and Commander Celestia had need of me. I turned my mind once more to the needs of the present. “Tabards.”
Stalwart answered me with a confused frown. “Milady?”
“We will need tabards, so that when next we fight our former clanmates, we will know our own from the enemy, and that our allies will not have similar troubles.” I turned my back on him. “Come, sergeant. We have urgent business in Canterlot.”
Briefing Commander Celestia on Polaris’ defeat was a grim but necessary business. Thankfully, ‘twas nearly done. “The rebels have agreed to a three day truce to allow us to recover our dead, and have provided us with a list of their prisoners.” To my dismay, Copper had not been among their number. Though I still prayed that he might yet return to us, I could not bring myself to dispute the cold logic of it. Barring a miracle, he was dead.
I did not look forward to giving his wife the news. Much as his loss pained me, ‘twas likely a far keener wound for Morning Star. Assuming we did indeed recover his body, I would give her the news myself once I could spare the time. A part of me prayed that we did find Copper’s body, if only so that we might know his fate with certainty. Few things are crueler for a family than for a soldier to vanish on the battlefield. In all likelihood the warrior had simply died, and his body had been lost. Yet that tiny glimmer of hope yet remains, rendering it all but impossible for families to accept the loss and move on.
Whate’er the case, I would inform Morning of her husband’s fate once I knew it. Far better that she learn of it from one who had once cared for him than from a mere stranger. At least she would have the company of another who would share her sorrow.
Now was not the time for such thoughts, though. I could worry myself on personal matters only when the Commander no longer required my attention. One does not request a private meeting with the Commander in utmost secrecy, then waste her time. Especially now—while I had requested a private meeting to curtail rumors, ‘twould only briefly delay word of Polaris’ defeat. Once the news struck the city, the effect ‘pon morale would be terrible. E’en mine own daughter had been uncertain of the rightness of our cause, and this reversal would only feed those fears.
And yet, the Commander remained still on her throne. She said and did nothing in response to my words. I was reminded of our meeting in the gardens, some weeks previously. She carried the same air of mournful resignation, and an exhausted indolence that seemed to have driven her to paralysis. When at last she spoke, there was no strength in her voice. I suspect that had Rightly been in the room at that moment, she might well have requested terms of surrender. “How many of my little ponies have died for my mistakes, now? And how many more will die ere this matter is finished?”
I was very grateful in that moment that we were not meeting in her court. Morale would be damaged enough by the news of our defeat without all Unicornia seeing its leader in such a sorry state. Much as it pained me to admit it, e’en in the privacy of mine own heart, were she any other officer in any other circumstances I might have been tempted to ask that she temporarily remove herself from command. “With respect, Commander, they died for you and your cause. You do their sacrifice a disservice through your inaction.”
“A sacrifice I would have preferred they never make.” The Commander offered a bitter shake of her head. “Neigh, it is not the place of my ponies to sacrifice themselves for my sake. Regardless of the rebels’ beliefs, I am not a tyrant like Sombra who would expend the lives of my subjects for my own grandeur. Their deaths pain me. All deaths, e’en those of the ponies who have taken up arms ‘gainst me. Thou didst ask why I would not take the field ‘gainst the rebels, and my answer is given.”
In hindsight, her answer was obvious. She loved her subjects far too dearly to take their lives, e’en if such was necessary to preserve her throne. Mayhaps I had not been so wrong in thinking that her will to hold her position was flagging. If that be the case, then I would need to stiffen her resolve. “Commander, do not forget why we are fighting this war. Your subjects look to you for leadership, now more than ever. Though I know this war carries a heavy price, you must bear it, and you must remain strong for everypony who fights under your flag.”
The Commander let forth a heavy sigh, and slowly nodded. “Thou art correct, and I apologize for losing myself to melancholy.” She slowly stiffened in her throne, returning to her full height, and fixed a regal and determined expression on her face. “So be it. With Duke Polaris and his cousin captured by the rebels, I am in need of a new Archmagus of Canterlot, a new Grand Vizier, and a new leader for my armies. I would offer the last of those posts to thee.”
I would not deny the thrill of vindication I felt at the Commander’s choice. Though he had proved a capable enough choice, I still firmly believed myself to be a better general than Polaris. However, e’en as I prepared to accept my new post, a thought troubled me. One that I ultimately proved unable to cast aside. “Commander, while I am deeply honored by your offer, I must respectfully decline.”
Commander Celestia blinked in surprise, then slowly settled back into her throne, regarding me with open curiosity. “That is unexpected. Didst thou not wish to lead my armies in battle? As I recall, thou wert most displeased when I named Polaris to the post, to the point of attempting to campaign ‘gainst him. What has prompted this sudden shift in thy desires?”
“Awareness,” I answered simply. “When last I sought the post, I thought myself the superior of any unicorn you might have named as leader. Now I wonder if that was arrogant presumption on my part. And e’en if I am the better general, that does not mean I am the best choice to lead our armies. Grandmaster Crossguard of the Order of Sol Invictus has the respect of all within Unicornia, and knows the state of our armies and the terrain we will fight on far better than I. The pride of the unicorns would also be better served by allowing him leadership of our forces. I have enjoyed working with him on the defenses of Canterlot, and believe I could serve under him as a trusted subordinate whose advice would be appropriately valued.”
Celestia’s eyes lingered long on me, then she offered a single approving nod. “Well said, Shadow.” She stepped forward, placing a hoof on my shoulder. “Equestria’s needs outweigh our own personal desires. It warms my heart to see such wisdom from thee. I am almost tempted to override your wishes and demand that you serve as my war leader, despite thy insight.” A faint smile quirked at her lips. “Almost. Mayhaps I should simply name thee as my grand vizier instead?”
I gave her offer the consideration it deserved. “How have I offended you, Commander, that you would punish me so cruelly?”
Celestia threw back her head, a gay laugh erupting from her lips. In truth, her laughter far exceeded the scale of my jest, to the point where I wondered why it amused her so. Eventually the peals of joy slowly trailed to silence, and the Commander wiped eyes. “It has been too long since I laughed, and in these dark times I need it far more than e’er before. My thanks to thee, for that.” She turned to me, a fey light in her eyes and a rare smile fully on her lips. “Well, if thou wouldst not command my armies or serve as grand vizier, mayhaps I should name thee as Archmagus of Canterlot? Though thy lack of a horn is a fault that I must address...”
She tapped a hoof ‘gainst her chin in thought, then sighed and shook her head. “Alas, we cannot afford to linger on such lighthearted topics when war presses. Ere I name my choice for the posts, I would have thine own thoughts on the matter. Thou didst advise me well regarding Crossguard.”
Much as I disliked confessing it, there was only one pony I knew who seemed suited to the job. “I would restore Sunbeam Sparkle to her former offices, though it pains me to suggest it. In the midst of this crisis we require two things above all else: a leader who has the skill to take the post quickly and with minimal disruption to the war effort, and a pony who can calm the public’s fears that we are weak and leaderless, beyond thee. Sunbeam is known to thy subjects, and her return shall reassure many who would be unsettled if the post went to a pony who was not known to them. Though she has many flaws, weakness was never among them.”
Commander Celestia raised a single eyebrow. “Sunbeam is an unexpected choice, given thine own disagreements with her in the past.”
“I do not like Sunbeam Sparkle,” I readily conceded. “But my personal dislike of her cannot override the interests of Equestria.”
“Well said.” An approving smile ghosted across her face, and for a moment I wondered if she had asked those questions of me in the hopes that I would answer as I had. She has admitted more than once that she has the heart and mind of a trickster. Was it possible she had meant the question as some test of my judgment? And if so, to what end? ‘Twould be far easier for me if Celestia did not spend all her waking hours either mired in melancholy or needlessly cryptic.
Whilst I puzzled through this latest enigma, her eyes rested on me. “I wonder, however, what honors are to be Shadow’s, then. If I cannot name her as leader of my armies, and she has wisely declined entry into court politics, then I can find few posts suited to her. Surely there must be some boon she would ask of me, in return for such loyal service?”
My first instinct was to modestly refuse her, but another thought quickly struck my mind. The brief skirmish with the rebels had shown a potential advantage, and I would be a fool to neglect it. “I ask nothing for myself, but rather for my clan. Our wargear is largely of the same standard as that of our enemies. Sunbeam has recently improved mine own arms and armor, and substantially so. I would have my clan benefit from the same, and whatever other magical aid might be available to us. If my clan is to battle ‘gainst the other pegasi, we must have every possible advantage.”
Commander Celestia glanced to my own armor, and her horn briefly lit. “Ah, Sunbeam’s work is as impressive as ever. I commend thee for having the foresight to remove her failsafes as well.” Celestia gave a brief, resigned shake of her head. “Would that she could learn to trust a pony without holding a dagger to their throat. Still, I will speak with her and see the enhancement of thy clan’s wargear done. Loyal pegasi are a precious resource, and I would not see any of my faithful champions needlessly slain when ‘tis within my power to save them.”
Despite my utmost respect for the Commander, a small part of me felt a brief flare of displeasure at her words. I did not e’en realize how deep it ran until the words left my mouth. “If you care so deeply for my clan’s lives, then thy presence on the field will save many more than improvements to their armor.”
My words drew a flinch from the Commander, and I instantly regretted them. Though I could not bring myself to withdraw my statement, I had not wished to cause her pain. Celestia’s eyes met mine, and she made no effort to conceal the wound my foolish tongue had caused. “Some day, Shadow, thou wilt come to understand how great a tragedy it is to see a pony’s life ended. I do not say that thou art cold or heartless, but thou canst not understand how terrible a thing death is, or the pain that thy blades cause whenever they take a pony’s life. Thou canst not know of all the joy that a single death takes from the world, all the possibilities you can end with a single stroke of thy weapons. That knowledge is something only I am cursed with. “
I struggled to find the words to answer her. “Commander, I—”
She forestalled me with an upraised hoof. “One of the ponies who fell in thy recent skirmish with the rebels—Ardent Blade, the one whose wing thou didst foul with thy blade. He survived the battle, but not the treatment of his wound. Had he lived, he would have married, his children would have become noble warriors of Pegasopolis in their own time. Defenders of the realm who would save countless others. One of his granddaughters would have been a lyrist whose compositions would stir the hearts of all Equestria, helping us heal from the wounds of war. One of his further descendants would have saved Equestria from terrible calamity when he discovered a terrible threat to Equestria’s safety, and forewarned us of it. Now all those possibilities are naught but ashes and dust.”
Commander Celestia closed her eyes and slowly shook her head. “Merely enduring this war at a distance tests the limits of my will. I cannot bring myself to come any nearer to it. I have wondered more than once if Luna’s time as Commander of Pegasopolis, leading its armies, was responsible for her fall from grace. War carries a heavy price for all whom it touches, e’en when their minds cannot grasp the full horror of what has passed. To a mind that could truly grasp all the horrors of battle, the full scope of the tragedy that has unfolded...” Celestia turned her gaze from mine, her voice dropping to a resigned whisper. “Call me a coward if thou wilt, but I cannot bring myself to face that, nor to see such evils wrought by my own hooves and horn. I will fight monster and beast without hesitation, but I will not stain my hooves with pony blood.”
I stepped forward, instinct telling me that I should salve her pain e’en as my mind told me ‘twould be improper to act so familiarly with my superior. After a long moment Celestia nodded, and raised a single wing for me. I stepped nearer, and offered what comfort I could. But that is not a matter I care to discuss in any detail. (3)
3: In other words, they banged.
Well, probably not, but I prefer that explanation for Shadow’s sudden reticence. Realistically, it was probably just some cuddling and crying, and Shadow’s trying to preserve the dignity of the crown. After all, she pulled a similar ‘this is too personal to include in my public memoirs’ for one of her conversations with Gale, so it’s pretty clear she’ll cut things out just for reasons that have nothing to do with sex. Pegasopolan stoicism tends to frown on calling too much attention to somepony’s sorrow. Besides, she wasn’t especially shy about admitting that she’d been in a sexual relationship with Copper Spark, not to mention what we’ll be seeing in future chapters...
Once I parted company with Commander Celestia, I wasted no time arranging a meeting with Grandmaster Crossguard and the freshly restored Archmagus Sunbeam. Well, she had technically not been reinstated by her fellow magi yet, but ‘tween the crisis of war and Celestia’s recommendation I doubted there would be any dispute in returning the post to her.
We met once more in Grandmaster Crossguard’s war room at the Sol Invictus compound. The Grandmaster himself was as I remembered him, but Sunbeam had undergone something of a transformation since last I had seen her. The coat of finely crafted mithril links she now wore beneath her blue robes was the most obvious change, but she also carried herself differently. The unsettling air of ruthless energy, an all-encompassing desire to impose her will on the world, seemed somewhat tempered now. Not absent, merely less powerful. Mayhaps the restoration of her titles had calmed her, for the moment. Or ‘twas possible that Crossguard had words with her prior to my arrival.
“Shadow.” She acknowledged me with a slight nod. “As you requested, I have put some of my magi to the task of equipping your clan with our best. Since you seem to have developed a good working relationship with her, Morning Star is heading the effort. I would sooner bury her in so much work that she cannot mourn than allow one of my best enchanters to slip into melancholy.” She let out a snort, and a measure of her usual demeanour slipped out. “We have troubles enough with melancholy in our higher ranks.”
Crossguard frowned at her, a sentiment I wholly agreed with. “Sunbeam,” he gently chided. “Mind your words. I would not have our meeting degenerate into an argument on matters unrelated to the war effort.”
“It is not unrelated.” Sunbeam looked between Crossguard and I. “Her Majesty is not present for this meeting, nor do I think her likely to arrive later. Are we to lead this war effort absent our queen? What will the common pony say once ‘tis plain that our own leader has so little faith in her soldiers that she will not e’en attend a meeting of the war council?”
“She is our queen.” Crossguard fixed the Archmagus with an uncompromising glower. “It is not our place to question or criticize her. Our only task is to see her will done.”
“She wears the crown,” Sunbeam conceded with an angry wave of her hoof. “I do not dispute that, and I will obey her commands when they are given. I will also note that aside from appointing us to our new posts, no commands have been issued.” She let out a disgusted snort. “I might be her Grand Vizier by title, but so long as this melancholy holds her I shall be queen in all but name, with the added joy of concealing her true state from the public eye. You say we must focus on the war effort? I say that the fact our queen is all but a recluse is of the utmost importance to the war.”
I was reminded once more of one of the more complex reasons for my dislike of Sunbeam Sparkle: she had an annoying habit of forcing me to confront facts I would have been happier ignoring. Had I not spoken to the Commander of mine own displeasure that she seemed content to remain ‘pon her throne while others lead the war? Rather than argue the matter with the Archmagus, I offered mine own thoughts. “Though I agree that Commander Celestia’s melancholy should be ended if at all possible, there are other matters that press. Defeat in the field will do nothing to improve the Commander’s mood.”
Crossguard offered me a grateful nod, and returned the discussion to matters that caused him less discomfort than his queen’s flaws. “To the war, then. Our circumstances are perilous enough without needless arguing ‘mongst our own ranks.”
Sunbeam’s eyes lingered on me for several moments, then she turned to Crossguard. “Agreed. I apologize for any offense my words might have caused. ‘Twas not my intent to act a poor guest; I merely wished to express mine own concerns on the matter.”
Crossguard looked to her, and offered a reluctant nod. “Aye, and for my part I apologize for taking offense when thou didst raise valid concerns regarding the war’s conduct.” He sighed, running a hoof along his face. “Much as I value Her Majesty’s honor, taking its defense to the point of blinding myself to unpleasant realities does us a disservice.”
I waited some moments to confirm that the matter was settled ere I spoke. “If we are done having needless arguments, shall we discuss the war effort?” I did not wait for an answer ere I continued. “As I see it, we must take aggressive action at once.”
“Truly?” Crossguard frowned down at the map, and I noted a fresh notation marking the location where Polaris’ army had been destroyed. “Though we have scouts searching for any other survivors of the battle, I confess myself less than optimistic that we will find many. The pegasi have a natural advantage in the realm of pursuing a beaten enemy. Given the blow to our own forces and uncertain training of our newer conscripts, I would think a defensive posture more reasonable. Especially since the enemy will likely march on Canterlot soon.”
Sunbeam offered me a faintly approving smile. “I think the Ephor has the right of it, Grandmaster. Though our armies are less ready than I would like, we must strike a blow that proves we are not undone by a single defeat. It need not be a grand battle, but ‘twould look ill for us if we are forced to the defensive, incapable of standing our ground outside the capital itself. ‘Twould look to most of Equestria as if the loyalist cause stood on the verge of defeat.”
Crossguard frowned and conceded the point with a nod. “I see your point, then. We must show the enemy and our own forces that wars are not won or lost in a single battle. We have already received word that Fillydelphia will be asking the rebels for terms. Polaris’ efforts were enough to persuade them to hold for a time, but with his army destroyed...” Crossguard sighed, offering a resigned shake of his head. “I doubt any of the communities the rebel army passes through on their way here will offer them much in the way of resistance.”
“Then ‘twould seem we are in accord,” I concluded. “A limited attack, to disrupt the enemy and demonstrate our strength of arms.”
“Aye.” Crossguard turned his attention to the map beneath us, one hoof tracing the route between Canterlot and Fillydelphia. “‘Tis nearly a straight march east, with little other than forests and river crossings to stand in their way. Our best chance to engage them would be here.” His hoof halted between the Foal Mountains and Rambling Rock Ridge. “The terrain will somewhat restrict their movement; e’en pegasi must exert considerable effort to fly o’er the top of a mountain. And ‘tis near enough to Canterlot that we should be able to withdraw in good order. I doubt the enemy would want to chase us too near to a prepared position, especially if we prepare a few measures to discourage them.”
“That just leaves the question of our objective.” I turned my mind to my former comrades, and the tactics they would likely use. “I do not think our army will be ready to meet them in open battle and trade blows. But if we are to have a limited engagement, then there must be some aim to it beyond meeting them in battle and giving a respectable performance. We must make some accomplishment notable enough that at the battle’s end we might name it a victory without it seeming a hollow claim.”
“Their siege train.” Crossguard’s suggestion took me by surprise, and I turned to him quizzically. He answered me with an easy smile. “I know pegasi are unaccustomed to siege warfare, but in this case they will have little choice but to employ siege engines if they would breach Canterlot’s defenses. They will also likely require proper supply lines—the pegasi might be more capable of living off the land than most, but if they are to properly besiege the city, they will quickly exhaust the local flora, and proper soldiers cannot subsist on grass alone.”
“Siege engines and supply wagons, then?” A playfully eager smile crossed Sunbeam’s face. “All made of wood, I should imagine. I see a battle plan forming: Crossguard will lead our army ‘gainst the enemy to hold them, whilst Shadow’s forces ensure that I arrive in the midst of the enemy’s supplies.” A casual arrogance suffused her tone. “Give me a minute in their camp, and there will not be a single piece of unburnt wood left e’en if they conjure a mighty rainstorm.”
Though I cared little for Sunbeam’s arrogance, I could not gainsay her proposal. Given her reputation and the phoenix emblazoned on her flank, I did not doubt she could set the enemy’s supplies aflame. I was uncertain of placing all our hopes upon her, though. “‘Twould be prudent to have some other means of kindling a flame, Archmagus. Battle is ever perilous.”
Sunbeam let forth a contemptuous snort, making plain her thoughts on the unlikelihood of her life being in peril. However, after a long moment her cold pragmatism won out o’er her ego, and she conceded with a nod. “I shall have the enchanters prepare a few fire gems, alongside the usual stabilizing potions and tanglehoof (4). Should I be unable to act on the field, the gems will suffice.”
4: Fire gems, as the name implies, are explosive fire spells contained within cheap and relatively fragile gems. When dropped or thrown hard enough to destroy the gem, the spell detonates, much to the displeasure of anything in the area. Despite their power and usefulness, fire gems are relatively rare since crafting them requires a decent amount of time from a talented magus, and by their very nature fire gems can only be used once. Most magi dislike the idea of spending several hours enchanting something that can only be used to cast a single spell before it’s used up.
“‘Twould seem we are agreed on a rough battleplan, then,” Crossguard declared. “I will speak with my subordinates, and suggest that the both of you do the same. On the morrow, once we have a full assessment of our available resources, we will meet again to discuss the smaller details. The size of our force, how much we should leave behind in Canterlot to secure the city ‘gainst surprise attacks, the usual concerns.” He smiled at both of us. “Good day, and may Her Sun light your paths.”
The remainder of my day was spent in many long and difficult discussions with my clan. There was no one great point of trouble, just a thousand small problems, each taking its own toll. Though my clan would be ready for war when the time came, ‘twould not be an easy task to see it done. Especially not when that was combined with our ongoing efforts to render our new clanhold livable and continue assisting in the preparation of the unicorn and earth pony armies. I doubted I would be able to spare the time for a full night’s sleep when so many other matters pressed.
I could at least take comfort in the fact that my own quarters in the new clanhold had been finished. Compared to my guest quarters at the palace, there was a welcome simplicity to my new abode. Blank red walls, save for weapon racks and my armor stand, with the only adornment being a table covered in carefully organized paperwork and a single chair. The bed itself was equally serviceable, and far more comfortable than the down mattresses and silk sheets I had uncomfortably rested under in the palace.
I set about removing my armor and prepared to take my rest, but halfway through the process I was interrupted by somepony clearing their throat. I turned about, and found nopony standing behind me. ‘Twas not until I shifted my gaze downward that I discovered the source: young Midnight was in my quarters, gazing up at me expectantly.
“Milady Ephor Shadow.” The young filly offered a polite curtsey. “There are matters of grave import which I would discuss with you.”
I wondered if she had come bearing some message from her mother, and decided to indulge her for the moment on that assumption. “Very well then, Midnight. What is it?”
Midnight regarded me for some time ere she answered. “Before we discuss the primary reason for my visit, there is a point of curiosity I would have you address for me. Will you tell me about coitus?”
I could scarcely believe mine own ears. E’en as my mind withdrew in surprise from this o’erforward and unexpected request, I gave her my answer. “Neigh, I will not.”
“I see.” She slowly blinked, her eyes still fixed upon me with unnerving intensity. “Will you engage in coitus with Mother, then?”
“No.” I shuddered at the very thought of it, as a dread suspicion that this conversation would extend for some time settled into the pit of my stomach.
If I were to judge by the frown my answer drew, Midnight took some offense at my refusal to bed her mother. “Why not? I have heard it said she is a comely mare.”
Rather than explain all the reasons why I found her mother distasteful, I opted for a simple answer. “I do not wish to.”
Midnight answered me with the stubborn curiosity so common to children her age. “But why do you not wish to?” Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Is it because you are having coitus with another? Will you be having coitus with Grandmaster Crossguard? Or mayhaps e’en Her Majesty?”
“No.” I allowed a bit of the parental authority I normally reserved for my own daughter to slip into my voice. “And thou shouldst not speak of such things, child.”
The young filly crossed her forelegs o’er her chest. “'Tis hard to know why I should not speak of such things when I do not understand the context of coitus. If I speak words that are inappropriate or offensive, ‘tis only because nopony will enlighten me with the truths I seek.” She frowned, slowly tilting her head to the side. “Mother says that ponies fond of one another sometimes have coitus, but I am not sure when 'tis acceptable. 'Tis most vexing. If you will not have coitus with Mother or Her Majesty, then whom?”
I was rapidly tiring of this discussion. “Nopony.”
Midnight stared up at me and slowly blinked. “Ah, you are impotent. I was unaware. My condolences.”
My willingness to indulge the filly reached its end. “Is this not a subject thou shouldst discuss with thy mother? Surely she would prefer that thou remainest near her side.”
Midnight let out an impatient grumble, rolling her eyes. “She says she will tell me the details once I am older. Given that I am already well aware of coitus, I see little point in denying me necessary information on the subject. I can understand why she will not speak of me regarding black magic or the forbidden arts, but 'tis not so with coitus.”
Ah. So she had come to me in the hopes that I would provide the information her mother had denied her. I would have thought Gale a more likely choice than I for such purposes, but ‘twould seem not. Regardless, I saw no reason to aid the young filly in her plans. “If that is thy mother’s command, then thou shouldst mind her words and do as she asks.”
Midnight answered me with a fillyish scowl and a frustrated sigh. “Then your response is no different from any other’s. Most irritating. If only I could reach the books on the higher shelves...”
I confess, the image of Sunbeam Sparkle concealing books on adult matters from her daughter provided a queer sort of amusement. Regardless, ‘twould seem our discussion was at an end. “Shall I have Gale escort thee to thy mother? I suspect ‘tis already past time thou wert abed.”
Midnight shook her head, then spoke with such grave seriousness that for a moment I almost forgot she was a filly. “Neigh, for I have business with you, Lady Shadow.”
“Dost thou, then?” I considered simply summoning Gale and having the child removed regardless, but given her sudden shift of mood and tone, I chose to hear her out.
Midnight offered me a serious nod. “Aye, I do. I humbly request that you keep my mother safe in the coming battles with the rebels. I am prepared to do whatever I must, and offer whatever I can, in exchange for that. My magic has not yet developed, but ‘twill do so in time, and if I am half the magus Mother is, ‘twill be considerable. Mother has already assured me that my raw potential is great enough that you would benefit from my services. So once I am properly aged and trained, I could be of service to you. I could make enchanted objects for your clan, or other spellcrafting services. Whatever price you think appropriate for my mother’s safety.” She was silent for several seconds, then a hint of desperation entered her normally monotonous voice. “Or I could always marry a pony of your clan when I am of age. I would do so if such an alliance would keep Mother safe.”
“Child...” There was only one action I could take in response to such naked fear. I opened a wing and drew the frightened filly to my side. “Thou needst not bargain with me for such a thing.”
A brief tremble passed through as she pressed ‘gainst my legs. “I do not enjoy the thought of my mother passing. ‘Tis a most disquieting thing to contemplate, especially given how many archmagi have already fallen during this war. I would not have the same happen to Mother.”
“I will do what I can to preserve her life,” I assured the child.
A frown slowly worked its way onto Midnight’s face. “I am not sure that is reassuring enough. I have already requested to Her Majesty that she proceed with immolating the rebels and charring their flesh down to the bone, but she denied me.” She let out a discontented grumble. “She would not even tell me why she would not help fight for her own crown when she is the mightiest pony in all of Equestria, all she said was that ‘twas terrible I knew of such things. As if my ignorance would make Mother safer.”
Given my own recent conversation with the Commander on the matter, I was hard-pressed to dispute her. “She has her reasons for acting as she does, and thou shouldst trust her wisdom, child.” ‘Twas a weak answer, but ‘twas the best I could think to offer, other than explaining the Commander’s private thoughts to her.
“Her reasons do not change the fact that she could bring this terrible war to an end so much quicker, and keep my mother safe.” She moved from my side, trotting to a window and hoisting herself up so that she might look out towards Canterlot. “Crossguard gave me little satisfaction when I asked him to keep my mother safe, for he only promised to attempt to preserve her life like you did. He also said that the Order would take me in if my mother should fall, but I do not find much comfort in that. I find being a bastard trial enough without also being an orphan.”
Ah, the unicorn obsession with bloodline purity. I will never understand why it matters so much to them. “Thy sire is unknown, then?”
Midnight shook her head. “Neigh, I know who my sire is. Mother is my sire.”
I suppose that came as no surprise. I cannot imagine Sunbeam delaying her ambitions for all the time of a pregnancy. “What of the one who bore thee, then?”
Midnight’s gaze dropped to the floor, and there was a hesitant tremble in her voice. “I do not know. Mother refuses to speak of her, and rejects my inquiries. Nopony knows anything else, either. Some ponies say I am but some demon or other creature in pony form, a golem she created, or a foal stolen from her parents’ home by Mother.” Her ears wilted as she repeated the words.
I brought one of my hooves to rest on her shoulder. “Thou art thy mother's daughter, Midnight. Do not listen to the prattling of fools who claim otherwise.”
“That is what Mother tells me.” One hoof scraped along the windowsill as her gaze drifted towards the palace. “All I know of the mare who bore me is that she died soon after I was born. I do not even know her name. Mother says I should put such worries out of my mind.”
Curious indeed. I would not have thought Sunbeam Sparkle of all ponies might have a lost love in her past. Mayhaps that was the ‘cause of her flaws; I have known more than one pony who developed a sickness of the mind after seeing one dear to them perish. Though given that Crossguard had claimed Sunbeam as e’en fouler prior to Midnight’s birth, I rather doubted that explanation. (5) “Do not think too poorly of her silence. 'Tis possible it is not a pleasant memory for her.”
5: According to Col. Wind Kicker, Head Counselor for the Royal Guard, there is “No way in Tartarus” that Sunbeam’s psychological issues stemmed from some sort of past trauma. She further went on to state that: “Dangerous sociopaths who can easily be cured with a hug and reassurance that mommy really did love them are the kind of thing that only shows up in bad books and poorly-written films.”
“I suspect that such is the case as well.” Midnight shook her head. “‘Tis an easy enough conclusion to reach, and I am not a fool, even if I am still a child.”
I frowned down at her. “Do not take offense where none was intended.”
She paused, then slowly leaned back from the window, resting her spine against my leg. “I know you meant no insult. Other ponies can be much less kind. Especially when they wish to be cruel to me in order to attack Mother.”
The thought of anypony targeting an innocent child merely to harm her mother indirectly riled my wrath, and soon I was scowling fiercely at nothing in particular. “That is unacceptable. If it happens again, inform me and I shall correct their behavior. Firmly.”
Midnight craned her neck up so that she could meet my eyes, and offered a single nod. “I will, though ‘tis rare for ponies to do so now. After one of them made the mistake of speaking within Mother’s hearing, she made an example of him. Since then, her enemies have watched their tongues lest they lose them to Mother’s wrath.”
I found myself wondering how literal Midnight was when speaking of ponies losing their tongues. I would certainly not put it past Sunbeam Sparkle, though in the current case I found myself hard-pressed to condemn her for that act.
Midnight stepped away from me and returned to the window, now looking out over the new clanhold. “I have read in my books that the pegasi care less about parentage than us unicorns do. Is that true?”
“'Tis so,” I confirmed for her. “Ties of blood and kindship are of importance, but we do not care for concepts like bastardy.” I let out a contemptuous snort. “By unicorn reckoning, all of Bright Charger's children are bastards, yet 'tis of no concern.”
“That sounds preferable.” Midnight gazed out the window, and a troubled frown crossed her face. “Though Mother and other learned unicorns have told me that the main reason that unicorns have come to care so much about such things is that some element of magic is tied to bloodlines. Magically strong parents produce magically strong children, and those children in turn...” She let out a brief sigh. “Such matters are distressingly complicated.”
“I am no expert on unicorn bloodlines, though I would note that from all I have heard thy mother came from a family of no significance, and I wager there are many magi who bore disappointing children. E’en if blood has a place, ‘tis plain it is not the only factor.” I shrugged, and put the matter from my mind. “Whate'er the case may be, Sunbeam Sparkle is yet thy mother, and she cares for thee. What else is of consequence?”
Midnight was silent for so long that I wondered if she had heard me, until at last the gave a single nod. “There is wisdom in that.” She shifted on her hooves, dropping her gaze from the window. “I do not wish for my mother to die. If she perished, then I would be alone, and that is not something I desire.”
I stepped to her side, once more offering her comfort of my wing. “Whate'er may pass, thou shalt not be alone. This I swear to thee.”
Midnight turned her head to mind, wearing a confused frown. “'Tis so? But I have no other kin I know.”
“Not all kinship is a matter of blood.” I explained. I paused and briefly searched for a gentle example, but I suspected that with young Midnight directness might well be a virtue. “If thy mother perished, and thy care were given over to Gale, what would she be to thee?”
As I had hoped, Midnight did not seem unduly upset by the question. “Wouldst she not be an adoptive mother? A master as well, if she were to teach me a craft.”
“But wouldst thou not grow to love her as a mother in time?”
Midnight frowned in thought, tapping one of her hooves on the windowsill as she thought.“It seems likely,” she concluded. “I am fond of Gale, and would grow moreso in the fullness of time.”
“Aye.” I offered her an approving squeeze of my wing. “So thou canst have ties of kinship e’en absent blood ties.”
“Your logic would appear to be sound,” Midnight agreed.
I nodded and offered the filly a brief smile. “Then so it is. Though I will do what I might to preserve thy mother's life, I also give my word that thou shalt ne'er want for kinship.”
Midnight mulled this over for near a minute ere she at last answered me.“I suppose that will have to do. My thanks for your kind words.” A slight frown flickered o’er her face. “When I spoke to Grandmaster Crossguard, he told me that nothing can be guaranteed in war.”
I briefly tightened my wing about her, hoping it might offer young Midnight some comfort. “Courage, child. I will return thee to thy mother.”
Midnight stepped away from the window, and offered another curtsey. “My thanks, Lady Shadow. Mother often warns me to be wary of being foalnapped again. Especially with there now being a war. She says that the pegasi might not hesitate to use me as a hostage against her.”
“Thus, I shall return thee to her side ere she worries for thee,” I assured her, beginning to guide her towards the door.
Midnight began following me, but as we moved I noticed a hesitation in her step. At last, she halted completely. ”Lady Shadow? How likely are we to win this war?”
After considerable hesitation, I gave her an honest answer. “If we win our next battle ‘gainst the rebels, 'tis possible. Difficult still—I give us one chance in three—but possible. If we are beaten ... neigh.”
Midnight slowly nodded. “I have read of what sometimes happens to the family of important individuals on the losing side of a war, and this concerns me. I would not be slain by somepony who fears that I would attempt to avenge my mother when I reach adulthood. I do not believe my mother is well loved by the rebels, so I doubt they will allow her to live if they are victorious.”
‘Twas unsettling to hear a child speak so calmly of the death of her own mother, let alone her own passing. I offered what reassurance I could. “I will not allow thee to suffer simply because of thy mother’s identity. Or see thee murdered simply as a safeguard ‘gainst vengeance. Nor do I think Rightly would e’er allow such a thing.”
“So I would be exiled, then?” Midnight frowned, resting her chin on the windowsill. “Where would I go if exiled? I have spent all but a few weeks of my life in Canterlot, and I did not care for the time I spent in Manehatten and Cloudsdale. Nor would I be capable of supporting myself without Mother’s assistance. I do not think I like this uncertainty as to my own fate. ‘Tis worrisome.”
“Should the worst happen, I shall do everything within my power to see to thy safety. I think Rightly would allow me to adopt thee into my clan, if naught else.” ‘Twas unusual for a non-pegasus to gain membership in a clan, but far from unprecedented. If young Nimbus and Radiant Day had a successful courtship, their children would be Kickers regardless of whether they were born with horn or wing.
“My thanks for that, at least.” The filly turned from the window, slumping tiredly onto the stone floor. “I think I am growing to understand why war is often called a pestilence on ponykind. What yet eludes me is why so many ponies are so eager for it. Do they not see what their attempts at glory have wrought? 'Tis plain if one reads the histories.”
“War is not something wise ponies seek merely for glory and honor.” I frowned as my thoughts turned once more to Rightly and the other Ephors, and their decision to seek war. “Seeking glory in battle is the province of the young and foolish, which is why they do not lead. The Ephorate has sought this war because they wrongly believe that a failure to act would result in greater evils than war. Such is the case for us as well. We fight in the hopes that the evils of war, however terrible, can ultimately lead to a better world than what would come from inaction.”
Midnight frowned, and slowly nodded. “I think I understand your point, though I think that the thought of Equestria being bettered in some vague and possibly distant future is a poor consolation for the loss of my mother, should that come to pass. I would further say that—” Her words were consumed by a yawn, and the filly blinked in surprise. “Ah. ‘Twould seem that I tire. ‘Tis well past my appointed bedtime, though I think it unlikely I would have found sleep regardless. May I ask that you accompany me to my mother’s quarters? She does not approve of me walking about at night unescorted. I would likely be punished if I returned on my own.”
I suspected that my presence would only temper her mother’s displeasure, not cancel it entirely. If my prior conversation with Grandmaster Crossguard was to be judged by, Sunbeam would react poorly to her daughter’s unexplained absence, especially as Midnight had been absent for sufficient time to speak with Commander Celestia and Grandmaster Crossguard ere she approached me. Regardless, ‘twould not do to have a young child wandering the streets unguarded. “Let us return to her, then.”
Midnight offered a slow nod, then rose to her hooves and took a place at my side. “Aye, I believe I have exhausted ponies I can talk to. I thank you for your words, Lady Shadow, e’en if they did not dispel my concerns. I fear only the war’s ending can accomplish that.”
I briefly placed a hoof on the child’s back. “Aye, such is the case with my own fears as well.” I sighed and led the filly out. “Let us pray we can see it done.”
Though I should have known my hopes were foolish, I was still heartened when Commander Celestia came to the clan’s compound as we prepared to march to war. A part of me yet dared to hope that she would take the field beside us, e’en though she had been most clear with me that such would not occur. ‘Twould seem I am ever a fool.
We intended to meet the enemy a few hours’ march outside of Canterlot. Near enough to withdraw in good order without too much trouble, but not so close that the enemy could besiege the city without meeting us in battle. ‘Twas of the utmost importance to our morale that we meet them in battle before Canterlot came under siege. If we fought all the war from our forts, our soldiers would hesitate to ever leave them, and all Equestria would say that we could only fight from behind the safety of our walls. ‘Twas imperative that we demonstrated our ability to take the offensive, e’en though defense remained the more prudent strategy. Maintaining morale was at least as important as tending to physical survival of our soldiers.
The Commander found me in the midst of o’erseeing the preparation of those few sky chariots we intended to use in the coming battle. Sunbeam Sparkle and a few of her hoof-picked magi would be accompanying my forces as part of our plan, and as such would require suitable transportation. Simply riding on the backs of my pegasi was hardly an ideal solution, given all that could happen in the midst of a pitched battle.
When my fellow clanponies saw her, they quickly busied themselves elsewhere at the Commander’s approach, allowing us to speak undisturbed. Despite that, I felt the air thicken about the two of us as the Commander placed a privacy spell about us. I had grown familiar with that particular conjuration since my arrival in Canterlot and the war’s beginning. Naturally, there was a great deal of concern about spies and saboteurs potentially undermining the war effort—though the fact that Gale had her sources of information within the rebel camp made it likely that the reverse also applied. ‘Twas not paranoia when there likely were enemy agents in our midst.
I stepped forward and saluted. “Commander. How may I serve?”
Commander Celestia smiled and offered a slight nod to acknowledge my salute. “Shadow, ‘tis always a pleasure to see thee. Canst thou spare a few moments to speak?”
“Of course, Commander.” I stepped to the side, so that we would no longer be in the middle of my clan’s war preparations. “I am sure my clanponies can prepare a few sky chariots without my direct supervision. I was simply o’erseeing the task in a loose sense.”
Such gestures were a small part of generalship, and one that was often forgotten. Ponies deeply appreciated the thought that their commanding officer would o’ersee their tasks, and ask after their wellbeing. ‘Tis a poor general who stays distant and unapproachable to their forces, rather than mixing with their troops and sharing their concerns (1).
1: I always find Shadow’s firm belief that commanders should lead from the front and fraternize with their troops rather interesting, considering how opposed it is to modern generalship. Not to mention the implications it has for her relationship with Celestia.
“Good.” The Commander walked at my side, her eyes casually passing o’er all the myriad ponies hard at work making the final preparations for battle. Armor and weapons were inspected, chains of command were clarified and what little special magical gear we had acquired was parceled out. “I trust thou art well?”
“Aye, I am.” I waved a hoof o’er my clan. “The Kickers stand ready to meet the enemy on your orders, Commander. As for the rest of our forces, though the bulk of our ponies are yet untested, they must have their first battle at some point. Now is the time for it, whilst their training is fresh and they have not yet had the time to think too much ‘pon it.” Excessive idle time would only give the new recruits more opportunities to think ‘pon the fact that, pony for pony, the clans of Pegasopolis were their betters as warriors. I could only pray that our tactics would lessen that disadvantage.
“Yes, of course.” Commander Celestia’s gaze turned to the east, and a troubled frown crossed her face. Though ‘twas distant enough to be barely visible, Cloudsdale approached us. ‘Twould seem the rebels intended to relocate the city nearer to Canterlot to support the upcoming siege. ‘Twas a fitting metaphor, I suppose. Celestia sighed and gave a single shake of her head. “Hopefully this battle will not be a bloody affair, as far as such things go.”
“Crossguard does not plan a protracted clash of arms,” I assured her. “The main engagement of our pikes will merely tie their forces down while my clanponies and Sunbeam’s picked magi outflank and strike at their supplies.”
“So he has told me.” Despite that, Celestia did not seem comforted. “Though battle plans are known for falling apart once the armies meet. I pray thy hopes for a short battle are borne out, regardless. However, I fear that e’en if all goes as thou dost hope on this day, this lesser battle will be but a taste of the horrors that are to come. Those who give their lives this day will not be reassured to learn that ‘twas but an opening engagement in a longer campaign.”
“That is the way of war.” I was grateful for the spell ensuring our privacy; ‘twould not be good for morale if all saw the Commander in such a grim mood. Rather than linger on that subject and risk her falling to melancholy again, I addressed a different matter. “'Tis your intention to remain within the city, then?”
“‘Tis so,” she confirmed. “I will be maintaining the shield protecting Canterlot while the army and the magi are in the field. I have given thought to taking on the task permanently, but such would leave me with less strength than I would like to attend our wounded. Though Crossguard doth not like to hear it, e’en I have my limits.”
My eyes turned upwards to the shield now covering the city. ‘Twas a subtle thing, a distant distortion in the air that one might well not notice if unwary. As I had heard it explained, there was now a thin cocoon of superheated air surrounding the city, strong enough to sear the flesh from a pony’s bones should they attempt to cross. I wondered if part of Commander Celestia’s willingness to take on management of the spell stemmed from a desire to alter it to a less destructive form. It had been chilling to witness what had happened to the first rebel advanced scouts when they crossed the shield’s threshold. Still, every fallen enemy was one less foe who could stand ‘gainst us, and at least the death had been a quick one. A flash of light, and all that remained was a small pool of molten metal.
Commander Celestia would not wish to linger on that thought, though. “Such measures are prudent, given how near the enemy will be to the city. Our army must have its remaining magi to stand against the rebels, but if the shield falls then the ephors might well circumvent the army and strike at Canterlot directly.”
“'Tis what I would seek to do, were I in command,” I confirmed. Though in truth, I might have delayed the move on the capital for a few weeks longer. The rebels were eager to bring a quick end to the war, and the fall of Canterlot would no doubt bring with it the surrender of Celestia’s remaining loyalists. However, I had no intention of letting the city fall swiftly, and in a protracted siege, the rebels might have cause to regret their laxness in securing the rest of Equestria. I suspect they underestimated the resolve of Celestia’s remaining loyalists, and the abilities of her soldiers who did not bear wings.
“In truth, there is another reason I wish to maintain the shield.” The Commander turned to me with a gentle, understanding smile. “I know that there are those who think less of me for my refusal to take the field. Sunbeam has spoken of it to me with her usual bluntness, and I know that in the privacy of thy mind e’en thou wouldst condemn me for refusing to do battle.”
“Commander, it is not my place to—”
“Peace, Shadow.” Her shoulders slumped once more as the melancholy that lingered e’er near her mind claimed her. “I do not think less of thee for wishing that I would join thee in battle. Those private doubts and rebukes thou wouldst hide e’en from thyself are echoed within mine own mind. Perhaps ‘tis as Sunbeam said, and the difference ‘tween ordering ponies to battle and taking lives directly is of little moral consequence. Yet I find that I can only manage the first, heavy though it makes my heart.” She shook her head. “I cannot do battle, but mayhaps I can at least offer some protection to the ponies of my capital, and remove a burden from our magi.”
“'Tis a fine and noble task,” I agreed, struggling to crush the mutinous thought that her place was on the field, regardless of her desires. Rather than linger ‘pon such thoughts, I asked a question. “You did not come merely to tell me this, neigh?”
“Neigh,” she agreed. Commander Celestia turned back to me, and her shoulders squared as she shook off some portion of the sorrow that clung to her. “There is a matter of the utmost importance I wished to discuss with thee. Thou art familiar with Lance Charger?”
It took a moment to connect the name to the mare. “Bright's eldest, aye. What of her?”
“'Tis of the utmost importance that she not fall in the coming battle,” Celestia confirmed. “Her death would have catastrophic consequences for our cause.”
That was an unexpected response. Commander Celestia was not prone to o’erstating her case. “Might I know the reason why a single enemy soldier has such importance, Commander?”
Celestia’s eyes turned once more to the east, and I felt a sense of unnerving certainty that if I were to draw a straight line from her eyes, I would find Lance Charger at the end of it. “She is a mare of great talent. More than e’en she knows, and she has yet to find her destiny or reach her full potential. I had hoped that my visit to Cloudsdale would allow me the chance to help her on that path, but alas it is not so. Regardless, she must live to fulfill that potential, and once she has done so she will play a vital role in rebuilding Equestria after the war.”
As Commander Celestia’s answers are prone to do, she had left me with a dozen new questions. “If she is destined for greatness, then I wonder if I could even threaten her.”
She gently shook her head. “Destiny is not so simple as that, dear Shadow. Ponies always have the ability to choose, and those choices can cause changes that ripple ‘cross the world. Still, ponies are as they are, and circumstances will often compel us towards a single specific course of action. E’en I, for all my years and insight, have often been struck by how little I truly know of the vagaries of fate and fortune.” She turned to me, a faint smile on her face. “Sometimes I e’en think destiny mocks our attempts to unravel it. Tell me, Shadow, hast thou heard the legend of Stardust the Mage?”
“I have not.”
“Very well then.” She took a seat and her horn lit, conjuring brief illusions to accompany her story. “Long ago, e’en before I walked Equestria, there was a magus by the name of Stardust. From the moment of her birth, all agreed that she was destined for greatness. From her earliest days, she had the best instructors, the best instruments, and the respect of all around her. In time she grew arrogant, certain that she would inevitably triumph o’er all obstacles and be completely impervious to all harm until her great destiny had been fulfilled. In time, she crossed the path of the great dragon Blightfire. As was her way, Stardust demanded that the dragon stand aside and pay homage to her, for she was certain that no harm could befall her, as her destiny had not yet been found.”
“And the dragon’s response?” I asked.
“He ate her,” the Commander answered. “Swallowed her whole in a single gulp. Or at least, such had been his intention. Somewhere in the process she became lodged in his throat, and he choked to death ‘pon her bones. With Blightfire’s fall, the dragons fell to squabbling o’er his great hoard, as was their way, and Equestria was freed from the threat of dragon raids for the next several centuries. Thus was Stardust’s great destiny fulfilled.”
“I believe I grasp the lesson of the parable.” I felt a hint of a smile cross my face at the grim humor of it. “One should not wear destiny as a shield, for hubris is often punished, and fate is not without a sense of humor.”
“Just so.” Celestia favored me with an approving smile. “By the same token, while Lance possesses great potential , she has not yet brought that to fruition. Though I have felt it stirring within her, she is yet an ordinary pegasus mare, albeit an exemplar of such. That potential can yet be denied, and e’en once it is fulfilled she is not invulnerable to harm. So I ask that thou dost preserve her life, if ‘tis within thy power.”
“And I shall honor your request, Commander.” Mine own eyes turned to Cloudsdale. “I would spare every pegasus I can, though I fear the war will leave me with few chances to do so. Though I would show mercy to my enemies, I must defend my clan, allies, and commander first.”
“We all have our duties.” Celestia’s eyes turned to the east once more. “My thanks. I know it is a difficult thing to ask, given all that passes within the heat of battle.”
“It may prove difficult,” I allowed, “but I will see it done, by your will.”
She favored me with a smile at that declaration. “Thou art e’er my champion, ‘twould seem. If there is nothing further thou wouldst discuss, I will leave thee to thy works.”
I saluted her once more. “Very well then, Commander. Good day to you.”
Celestia answered in a way I did not expect, gently kissing my cheek. “And good day to thee, Shadow. Be safe ‘pon the battlefield.”
We met the enemy in the valley ‘tween Mount Avalon and the Foal Mountains. With luck, the mountains would complicate any attempt at flanking our positions, especially as the pegasi would likely be wary of coming too near to Canterlot after their encounter with Sunbeam’s shield. The Maressippi River held our left flank well enough, while on the right was the mountain. Sunbeam had assured me that her magi had ways to ensure that the rebels would regret attempting to attack us from o’er the water.
The terrain itself was more open than I had initially planned, but our first tests with the pike squares had shown that the conscripts did not have the skill to hold a formation on uneven ground or maneuver around obstacles. Though I would have preferred tree cover to complicate any attack from above, ‘twould seem that we would have to make do without it for this battle. Hopefully the magi we yet commanded would have strength enough to defend our squares from above.
The rebel army was on the march down the old road from Fillydelphia to Canterlot. Though the pegasi had no need of roads, their baggage, supplies and any engines they might have to aid them in the siege would require such. ‘Twas those very things which were the primary goal of my attack.
We met the enemy late in the day, so that the setting sun would be in their eyes, and the lateness of the hour would encourage a short battle. Though ‘twas possible that the pegasi might choose to continue the battle into darkness, such was uncommon. Attempting large-scale military maneuvers in darkness was always a difficult proposition, and our magi had more means of counteracting the dark of night than the rebels could hope to possess.
As was custom, once the rebel army drew within sight of our own, we sent out envoys under flag of truce, as did they. ‘Twas an old tradition to offer one’s foes a final chance to stand aside ere battle was joined, though one that almost ne’er came to fruition. ‘Tis a very rare thing for one to go to all the trouble of assembling an army and marching out to meet the enemy only to stand aside when asked.
I met with Crossguard and Sunbeam, and made ready for the parley. Each of us was accompanied by a small retinue of our own forces, though they would not be participating in the actual discussion. Or at least what would pass for discussion. I offered brief nods to those among both groups whom I recognized, and my gaze lingered briefly on Morning Star. I hoped that the parley might at least bring news of her husband. The rebels would likely be willing to return those of our fallen who were in a fit state to be given o’er for burial.
Once all had assembled, we marched out to meet the rebels under their own flag of truce. ‘Twas a chilling thing to see my fellow Ephors from across the battlefield. Cyclone most of all, on account of his falsely bearing my clan’s colors despite his outcast status. At Crossguard’s suggestion, my own clan had added white tabards bearing the Commander’s sun sigil to our armor, so that we could plainly tell our own from the enemy.
Swift Blade was notable only by his absence, though such was to be expected given his lack of skill in the warrior’s arts. Rightly stood at the center, looking every bit as noble and valiant as I remembered despite his fall to treason. Steel, as was his way, regarded us with utter stoicism. I do not think he looked upon us any differently than he would have an army of gryphons, zebras, or any other enemy of Pegasopolis. There was a tension to Bright Charger’s stance that bespoke an eagerness to be done with the customary negotiations, that battle might be properly joined.
As Rightly stepped forward, my eyes shifted to the captain of his hetairoi . Lance Charger, whose life Celestia placed such high value upon. I had only met the mare in passing, but she looked the part of a noble warrior of Pegasopolis. Pity I would not have the chance to fully take her measure unless we met on the battlefield.
Rightly came to a halt, facing me. “Shadow, our army marches to Canterlot. Will you stand aside, so that we might have the road?”
I was stung by the cold formality of his words, though I suppose I should not have been surprised by it. Whate’er our personal feelings towards one another, we each had our duty, and those duties placed us in opposition to one another. Attempting to maintain the bond we had once shared would only bring misery and pain to the both of us. Though the formal demands of duty make a poor shield for a troubled heart, they were all we had to safeguard ourselves. “I cannot give you the road, for the army is not mine to command. Speak with Grandmaster Crossguard, if you would pass.”
Rightly met that news with a blink and a faintly confused frown. No doubt he was surprised to learn that I had accepted subordinate status to a unicorn. Nonetheless, he turned to face the grandmaster. “I intended no offense by addressing another before you, Grandmaster. My question stands: may we have the road?”
Crossguard acknowledged him with a faint nod, then answered, “No, you may not. As a soldier of Unicornia and Equestria, I am obligated to defend Her Majesty from all threats to her crown and dignity, whether foreign or domestic. If your army comes any nearer to Canterlot, I will be obligated to stop you by force of arms.”
“Our duty to the freedom and dignity of all ponykind compels us to stand ‘gainst Celestia,” Rightly answered in turn. “If you attempt to bar our path, we shall be similarly compelled to force you aside by whate’er means necessary. Much as it pains me to do violence to one of my fellow ponies, my duty to protect all of ponykind demands that I have the road. One last time, I pray, stand aside.”
“And one last time I say to you, I will not,” Crossguard answered in turn. “Disband your armies, and return your wrongfully conquered territory to Equestria.”
Rightly shook his head, then let out a sigh. “‘Twould seem we are well and truly at an impasse, then. So be it; our armies shall settle the matter. I must warn you that after the losses sustained by your knights and magi, what remains of your strength is insufficient to defeat us in open battle.”
“That may be so,” Crossguard conceded, “but nonetheless ‘tis my duty to stand against you.”
“So be it, then.” Rightly turned about and began to walk back to his own forces, but paused when his gaze passed over me. For a moment, the mask of the rebel commander dropped, and I found myself facing the stallion who had once been so dear to me. “Shadow, e’en after all that has passed, the Ephorate would gladly welcome you back. ‘Tis only proper that you—that thou dost stand amongst us.”
I hardened my heart, and met his eyes. “I stand in the only place I can: at my commander’s side, ‘gainst the rebels who would usurp her rightful post.”
“A curious choice of words.” Bright Charger stepped forward, gazing about with exaggerated confusion. “Given that Queen Celestia is notable only by her absence. Tell me, does she fear to face us in battle, or is she merely content to sit on a silk cushion and watch as better ponies than her die to preserve her throne?” Her attention shifted, noting Sunbeam amongst our numbers. “Though ‘twould seem she has sent her favored herald, at least. Mayhaps the archmagus’ death will suffice to draw the unicorn queen from her throne, that I might have the honor of wetting my lance with alicorn blood.”
Sunbeam offered no answer beyond a cold smile that seemed akin to that of a particularly hungry shark. “By all means, Ephor, seek me on the field. I would enjoy the fame and honor of slaying a warrior of your renown. As well as the opportunity to educate you as to the capabilities of an archmagus.”
“I have seen your archmagi in action.” Bright answered, stepping to her daughter’s side. “I took one of them, and my daughter captured another.” Bright proudly rested a wing across her daughter’s back. “They say ‘tis a greater accomplishment to take one’s enemy alive than to simply slay them. Though in truth, Copper Spark only lives thanks to my other daughter’s efforts. Dawn’s skills as a chirurgeon are a match for my other children’s battlefield prowess.”
Bright’s proclamation drew a gasp from Morning Star, and I felt my own shoulders slump in relief at word of his fate. Though sorely wounded and a prisoner of the enemy, he yet lived. Where life remained, there was yet hope for the future.
Sunbeam answered the ephor, seemingly unaffected by the news that Copper yet lived. “You may have faced archmagi in battle, but you have not yet faced me. I have heard it said that you are the best duelist in all Pegasopolis. Given that I hold the same honor for Unicornia, I think ‘tis fitting we meet. Look for me in the center, for I shall seek you.”
“So be it, then.” E’en from my current distance, I could see the eager light in Bright’s eyes at the prospect of the coming battle. Though she was doomed to disappointment, given that Sunbeam was to accompany my flanking force rather than holding the center. However, I could hardly name the archmagus a liar without compromising my own battle plan. No doubt if I had words with her afterwards, Sunbeam would defend herself by claiming that distracting Bright from her command justified the lie.
I had little interest in such posturing and deception. As I turned about and prepared to make my way to my clan, I felt my daughter’s hoof on my shoulder, holding me in place. Ere I could ask why she had halted me, Cyclone spoke from behind me. “Shadow, might we have words ere battle is joined? There may not be another chance.”
My shoulders stiffened at the sound of his voice, and I steeled myself. “Is it your intention to renounce your treason and submit to the will of your rightful commander?”
“Shadow, can we not leave aside such matters for the moment?” I heard the grass crunch beneath his hooves as he stepped forward, and his voice dropped to a low murmur. “Can we not forget politics, and speak once more as father and daughter?”
Ere his words could find purchase, I grit my teeth and spoke the only truth that I could accept. “My father is dead. I do not know you, Cyclone Cumulus.”
I would have continued away from him, were it not for Gale’s restraining hoof. “Mother, what harm is there in hearing his words? Mayhaps the rift in our clan may yet be healed, if you would but allow him the chance to speak.”
Though I had little desire to hear the traitor’s words, there was a logic to Gale’s suggestion that could not be denied. “So be it, then. He may have this single opportunity to say what he will.”
Cyclone took a few more steps towards me, but I did not turn to face him. ‘Twould make little difference, regardless. “This distance would weigh heavily 'pon Clay’s heart, Shadow. For the sake of his memory, let us put aside earlier words and speak of peace and reconciliation. It is not right for kin to face each other from across the battlefield.”
“Do not speak to me of my father's memory, traitor.” The words left my lips in a low, angry growl. “Your every action is an insult to all that he stood for. Your betrayal of clan and country defiles the very things that he believed in and gave his life to defend.”
“I will speak to you of it,” Cyclone answered, his voice firm. “Clay did not give his life for the distant Queen of Unicornia who wore the title of Commander yet ne’er exercised the office. 'Twas Pegasopolis for which he bled—for clan and clans, honor and home.”
“You name a litany of things you abandon and defile in your treason.” I turned to face him, though the gesture was wasted on his blind eyes. “You offer words? I will hear your repentance of your crimes.”
“Would you say the same to Clay were he here?” Cyclone demanded. “Were it my husband who stood before thee now, or within our clanhold weeks before, wouldst thou be so rash in thy judgements?”
“There was no rashness to my choice, only loyalty to the Commander I am sworn to serve.” I met his blind eyes with my own. “Treason and dishonor is not a message I will hear, regardless of who delivers it. I have no interest in debating the matter with an outcast traitor who would falsely usurp my rightful leadership of mine own clan. The only words I will hear from you are those of repentance. Do you offer them?”
Rather than answer me, Cyclone turned from me, seeking out the others of my clan. “Gale. Dear child, surely this madness sits ill within thy heart?”
Gale answered him without hesitation. “I will follow the commands of my mother, the materfamilias of Clan Kicker. That is the order of things.”
“I did not ask if thou wouldst obey her,” Cyclone countered. “I asked if thy heart was troubled by all that has passed, my granddaughter.”
My temper frayed at his words. “She is not your granddaughter, Cyclone the Clanless. You gave up all right to claim her as such when you chose perfidy and oathbreaking o’er loyalty to Equestria, your commander, and your clan. Thrice I say it and done, do you recant your treason?”
Cyclone paid no mind to me, instead addressing the others. “Gale, ponies of Clan Kicker, I implore thee, if there were e'er a time in thy life I would beg thy ear, 'tis now. Wouldst thou shed the blood of kin and comrades on this day? Does this madness not sit ill within thy hearts?”
Gale answered for all. “Nothing about this war sits well with my heart.” She turned her back on Cyclone, and stood at my side. “I neither see nor hear you, traitor.”
Cyclone’s shoulders slumped, and he offered a single nod. “So that is the way of it. Whate’er war may bring to us, know the following: e’en though thou dost name me as traitor and outcast, Shadow, thou shalt e'er be my daughter. I beg thee to return, and soon.”
I had no desire to hear his words. “Do not think I will hesitate to engage you or your traitors, should we meet on the field.” When I had met one his exiles in battle before I had spared her, but ‘twas an easy thing to do in a small skirmish. In open battle, I could not allow myself such weakness. All Equestria must see that I would fight for the true Commander.
I walked away from Cyclone, not offering another word or hearing any that he might have said in response. Had I known what would come to pass, I might have acted differently.
I did not witness the opening blows in what would eventually be known as the Battle of Avalon Vale due to the wide flanking maneuver I had committed my own forces to. Despite my lack of direct knowledge of the events, I have learned enough from the accounts of my clan and allies to have some knowledge of what occurred.
The battle opened with a few probing attacks from the rebel army, testing the mettle of our pike squares and searching for weaknesses. ‘Twas a sound and effective battle plan, for not all of the squares had equal discipline. Those which faltered under the force of the initial probes were the focus of the main rebel assault. Some of the squares held fast ‘gainst the enemy, their weak discipline hardened by the certainty of their own defeat if their resolve faltered. Others broke, and were quickly driven from the field by relentless harrying strikes from the rebels.
Greenwall’s contribution to the battle should be noted. In the initial strike, his square feigned a withdrawal, thus convincing the rebels that it was a vulnerable target. When the following attack came, they found themselves against ponies of rock-hard discipline and undeniable strength. Not only were the rebels bloodily repulsed, but the reversal made them wary of striking at true weaknesses in our line, lest they fall into another trap.
However, e’en in Greenwall’s square, the cruel mathematics of battle favored the pegasi. A few weeks of training and a clever tactic are not enough to make a pony the equal of a warrior who has devoted his life to his craft. By most estimates, we lost more than twice as many ponies as we slew.
Most would count any battle where they suffered such heavy losses as a severe defeat, yet Avalon Vale is reckoned a victory by the earth ponies and unicorns. The reason for it is that war is not a simple matter of mathematics. Though the loyal ponies of the squares bled, they also fought. The line bent and buckled, and some fled, but the rebels gained no breakthrough, no decisive advantage.
Though the battle of pikes to pegasi might be reckoned a defeat if one did but look at the numbers, the true battle was fought not on that field, but within the hearts of the ponies. On that day, the loyalist army learned that while the warriors of Pegasopolis were fearsome foes, they were still but ponies. Expertly trained, incredibly lethal ponies, but ponies nevertheless. Ponies whom could be met in battle, fought, and stood against, e’en by lesser warriors.
At battle’s end, every earth pony and unicorn of the pike squares left the field confident in the possibility of victory. By contrast, the rebels knew that while they yet held an undeniable advantage, those who yet remained loyal would not be so easily broken.
But as I have said, that was a matter for the future. For my part, I took my forces wide ‘round the flanks of the enemy, aiming to strike at their camp and supplies. The battle in the center was naught but a distant roar in my ears as I maneuvered my forces for their strike. We remained high in the clouds, that our presence might go unnoticed by the enemy until we were in position. I myself had the dubious pleasure of flying near Sunbeam Sparkle’s chariot—whate’er my opinion of the mare, I needed the leader of the magi detachment close at hoof for this operation.
Thus, I was well positioned to o’erhear when Gale approached the unicorn, hovering beside her chariot as a scowl darkened her face. “You lied to Bright Charger, when you promised her a duel.”
Sunbeam turned to face her, seeming quite unbothered by the condemnation. “Your point being?”
“'Twas a foul thing, to take advantage of her sense of honor so,” Gale growled.
Sunbeam answered that with a snort. “Child, if a mere lie proves to be the most foul thing to happen 'pon this battlefield, we can all consider ourselves blessed by fortune.”
“The existence of greater evils and fouler deeds does not negate your own crimes,” Gale countered. “I do not approve of your actions.”
“That I do not have your approval is truly crushing.” Sunbeam shifted in her chariot, in order to directly face my daughter. “Tell me, why exactly do you find my deception so upsetting? Because Bright will now redirect herself, and likely many of her best bondponies, to a less important part of the battlefield? That she will occupy herself searching for me in vain instead of pressuring our pikes? I was not aware that the rules of war required me to tell the enemy the truth of our maneuvers.”
“Deception is a legitimate part of warfare,” Gale conceded, though her frown remained in place. “What I find objectionable is the manner in which you executed it. A lie is all well and good, but you used the trappings of honor to deceive her.”
Sunbeam answered her with an aggrieved sigh. “Why is it that you and your mother both constantly condemn me for my lack of honor, and yet are always mortally shocked and offended when I act in ways you find dishonorable? I have ne’er e’en pretended to be an honorable pony.” Her eyes focused on Gale, and a predator’s smile crossed her lips. “In any case, thou art hardly an honorable mare thyself. Or hast thou forgotten the times thou hast used mine own daughter 'gainst me? Also, I did not see thee proudly proclaiming that I was a deceiver to the rebels. If my lie upset thee so greatly, why didst thou seem content to reap the benefits of it?”
Gale offered no response, beyond her grimace deepening at Sunbeam’s shift to addressing her less respectfully. To my displeasure, I found myself recalling some of Gale’s more questionable actions. She had been ready enough to violate guest-right and hospitality in the hopes of averting the very war we now fought, yet now she would condemn another for abusing the trust and honor of the enemy.
Sunbeam must have seen something ‘pon my face that gave insight into my thoughts, for she leaned nearer and her voice dropped to a low, cold whisper. “Tell me, Gale of Clan Kicker: hast thy mother e’er rejected any of thine own proposals because she found them dishonorable, too? Didst thou advise her to inflict some blow ‘pon the rebel cause before thy true loyalties were made plain? Didst thou advise thy mother to proudly proclaim to the other clans of thy intentions, or didst thou suggest that the Kickers depart in secrecy and deceptions?” Her smile shifted to an expression of utter smugness. “I think that thou dost not condemn me because mine acts are foul to thee, but because they lie so near to thine own heart that thou canst see them ‘pon thine own hooves. Thou dost see in me what thou couldst be, and that unsettles thee.”
Gale offered no answer, other than turning her back on the archmagus. “I tire of you, and this conversation.” Her piece said, she flew for another section of the battle line, one that would place her far distant from the archmagus. Having endured similar displeasures from Sunbeam’s company on more than one occasion, I could quite sympathize with her reaction.
The archmagus offered one final remark, as my daughter departed. “Do not be so quick to condemn that which thou art as well, Gale of Clan Kicker. Those who live in glass houses should not be so quick to cast stones.”
Once Gale had fully departed, I turned upon Sunbeam myself. “Must you antagonize my daughter so?”
Sunbeam answered me with an uncaring shrug. “How am I to blame when I did not seek conflict with her? She approached me first, did she not? She hath only herself to blame if our talk did not go the way she desired. I am sure her pride will recover in time. 'Tis hardly a worry, and 'twill be good for her to be mindful of the creature that she is. For all that she misliked my deception, she seems quite intent ‘pon lying to herself of her own nature.”
“My daughter is nothing like you.” The words left my lips of their own accord. “You act with no regard for honor, while she is always mindful of it, e'en if she does not always cleave to it. She knoweth that sometimes one must do questionable things to secure victory, but one must always be aware that the deed is not a righteous act. You, by contrast, would hold that the rightness of your cause and a positive outcome remove the foulness of the act itself.”
“What I think of mine own actions seemeth far less important than their effects. What does it matter whether I condemn myself for taking needful actions or take pride in them, so long as the act itself is done?” A lazy smirk slowly crawled onto her face. “Though regarding your daughter, I would ask a question of you. Do you think she would be so mindful of honor if 'twere not necessary for her to do so? After all, the things expected of a grand vizier and archmagus and that of the daughter and heir of a materfamilias of a great clan can be quite different. What regard would she have for the sense of honor held by pegasi if such was not a requirement of your clan?”
I gave her no immediate answer, for I found the question a troubling one. ‘Twas certainly possible that, absent mine own influence, Gale’s more ruthless and driven qualities might have come to the fore. I did not care for that though. “What of it, then? Mayhaps she could have been otherwise, but she is my daughter. That is the only truth that matters.”
Sunbeam fell silent for some time, then offered a small nod. “Aye, a daughter is a daughter. Mayhaps you are right, and that truth o’erwhelmth what might have been. Pray tell, why did you adopt her? How did she come to be your daughter?”
I saw no harm in sharing the tale. “I am an old mare, to have not yet birthed an heir. ‘Tis likely I will not do so, for I am too old to make a proper broodmare e’en if I could find a suitable partner for such an exercise (2).” I was briefly grateful that Sunbeam did not take the opportunity to make some crude or lascivious remark regarding my reproductive capability. “Thus, it seemed prudent to adopt a suitable child. I toured among my clan and bondponies, seeking out those among their number of a suitable age who had shown talents that would be of use to me, and serve a future materfamilias well. Of those whom I met, Gale showed the greatest talent and skill, so I made her mine own.”
2: As future events would show, Shadow was wrong on this point.
Sunbeam nodded, then offered a knowing grin. “And we both know which of Gale’s talents and skills drew your eye, do we not? To be frank, espionage and information gathering is hardly the most honorable skillset one can have. Yet they are invaluable skills to any leader, either in their person, or in their subordinates. But if one is to be competent at such arts, a certain degree of ruthlessness is required. Surely you did not expect your spymaster to be a paragon of Pegasopolan honor?”
I was long in answering her question. “Honor has its place, but it should not shackle a leader from doing that which is needful.” I saw Sunbeam’s eyes light in approval at my declaration and was quick to expand upon it ere she drew a parallel to her own beliefs. “Where we differ is in where that line is crossed. You would discard honor the instant it becomes inconvenient, whilst I will merely note that there are times when blind adherence to a code of honor can lead to greater evils.” My eyes narrowed in a meaningful glare. “Do not think that a valueless distinction.”
“Do not think me ignorant of mine own character,” Sunbeam answered coolly. After some time, she continued, a trace of bitter resentment in her voice. “Still, I shall credit you this much. You take ownership of those times when you would violate your own codes, rather than allow another to break them whilst pretending that your own honor remains unsullied, that you are above such base acts. In that, you have my approval. Much like you, I also know what I have done, am doing, and will likely do.”
“I know your character just as keenly.” I let my gaze linger on her. “If need be, I shall take what measures I must to stop you.”
Sunbeam answered my threat with a pleasant smile. “Now, Shadow, that is hardly a proper way to address one’s allies. 'Tis hardly honorable to be so hostile to one who furthers your cause. Did I not personally improve your own wargear and ask for nothing in return?”
I could hardly let that remark pass unchallenged. “Not so generous as that. What honor was there in putting traps in my armor that would end my life on your command?”
Sunbeam answered me with a snort and a dismissive wave of her hoof. “Again with this insistence that I should act honorably. And do not exaggerate, they were hardly lethal.” Her smile turned sly. “Perhaps your dear friend Morning Star lied to you about their nature? ‘Tis e’en possible she trapped it herself. She would not be the first wife to envy a husband’s former lover. Mayhaps once the battle is done, I should inspect your armor to ensure that such hath not occurred?”
I did not think that likely. “Of the two of you, I trust her more.”
“That is perhaps a wise choice,” she conceded. Sunbeam’s eyes lingered upon me, and she offered a slight shrug. “Though I doubt it will salve your anger on the matter, I would hardly have used those wards in anything but self-defense.”
“You will forgive me if I would not care to be killed by you, regardless of whether you believed it necessary to preserve your own life,” I answered coldly. “Especially as I would not care to try and kill you unless I had good cause for doing so.”
Sunbeam echoed mine own words at me. “You will forgive if I do not care to let you kill me, regardless of whether you think yourself justified in doing so. Let us hope such will never come to pass, for I have enjoyed our conversations.”
“They are interesting,” I conceded. Much as I found her refusal to abide by the honor of Pegasopolis offensive, I could not deny that there were times I found the challenge of debating her almost enjoyable. Mayhaps, had we lived in different times and met in better circumstances, I might e’en have sought out such discussions purely for their own sake.
‘Twas most unsettling to think that I might have named Sunbeam Sparkle a friend, had we lived different lives. I quickly sought something else to occupy my attention, and a break in the clouds beneath us offered the perfect target. “The enemy is near. We should make ready.”
“That we should,” Sunbeam agreed. She turned to the pegasi managing her chariot. “I would have words with my fellow magi, ere we meet the enemy. And I should think Shadow would wish to ensure her clan’s readiness as well.”
“Indeed.” That settled, I broke from her chariot and went about conducting my final inspection of my clan’s ranks ere we met the enemy. As expected, all was in readiness; the final inspection was largely a matter of formality, for my clan was not so inexperienced as to leave a problem unresolved until mere minutes before we met the enemy in battle.
However, no amount of careful planning could account for what we faced when we broke through the clouds and descended on the rebel supply train. The simple covered wagons of earth pony make would be easy targets for Sunbeam and her magi, but the enemy had not been so foolish as to leave their food stocks unguarded. That there were pegasi guarding the supplies came as no surprise, but their colors did. E’en from this distance, the blood red armor of Clan Kicker stood out from amongst the wagons.
In hindsight, I should have anticipated as much. Cyclone’s blindness would keep him from the front lines, but ‘twould be a grave dishonor to deny an ephor some place in the army (3). Guarding the baggage and acting as a reserve force was not the most glamorous of duties, but it still gave him a post without placing demands ‘pon him that his blindness would hamper. And it spared the rebels the prospect of facing their kin on the field, or at least so they had intended.
3: Which says something about the fact that they left Swift Blade behind .
However, that thought produced another, far darker one. Mayhaps the rebels had anticipated mine own move and had positioned the rebels here in the hopes that I would abandon my attack rather than break the taboo ‘gainst kinslaying. If so, they underestimated my resolve. War is a cruel business, but I would not neglect my own responsibilities out of sentiment. I looked to my clan. “Form up and make ready to engage the enemy.”
The order sent a ripple of shock through my clan’s ranks. Most had already noted that the pegasi beneath us were of our own clan, e’en if errant outcasts. Though by law ‘twas not kinslaying once they had been cast out the clan, a formal declaration from one’s materfamilias was not sufficient to sever all ties of love and family. Mine own daughter proved ample evidence of that, flying to my side. “Mother! You cannot mean for us to attack our own kin!”
“I mean for thee to attack the enemy,” I answered levelly. “No matter the color of their armor. They have declared war ‘pon our rightful commander, and that makes them our enemies.”
“Mother.” Gale’s voice dropped to a low, urgent whisper. “Already there are those within the clan who question your decision to remain loyal to Celestia. If you order a kinslaying now, those doubts will grow all the keener. It may be more than they will have.”
“The mater commands, and the clan obeys,” I hissed back to her. “Let them question and doubt if they must, but they will follow my orders. Is that clear?”
Gale stiffened, and answered me a with a formal salute. “By your will, materfamilias.” Though I might have been stung by her cold formality on any other day, I could spare little time to worry for her feelings. Let her resent me for doing what I must, but I would not betray our cause through inaction. Not e’en for her.
I turned about to address the rest of my forces. “Ponies of Clan Kicker! Magi of Unicornia! Today we strike a blow for Celestia, and Equestria. You know your duties, and I have every confidence they will be fulfilled. Show mercy where you can, but do not spend your blood to save our enemies. Do not let the ties of the past blind you to present realities. Every single pony in that camp is in rebellion against our rightful leader, and it is your duty to quell that rebellion by whatever means necessary. Past allegiances cannot blind us to this present reality.” I roared out our clan’s words. “Death waits in the dark!”
My clan answered my cry. To my faint surprise, many of the magi joined in, though ‘twas likely a matter of being caught up in my clan’s enthusiasm or simply not realizing the full meaning of the words (4). Whate’er the case, I did not object to their joining the call. Though the unicorns were not of my clan, they fought at my side. Any pony who sheds their blood alongside mine has earned the right to say my clan’s words before battle.
Well, any pony except Sunbeam Sparkle.
4: I can attest to this. During the changeling attack on Canterlot, there were plenty of non-Kickers who were just as eager to let the bugs know that ‘Death waits in the shadows.’ Incidentally, I’m pretty sure that small modification to our clan’s traditional battlecry would have immensely annoyed Shadow herself. The records aren’t quite clear about when we swapped dark for shadows, but it was almost certainly after Shadow wasn’t around to put a stop to it.
We began our charge towards the rebel supply train. The chariots were quickly left behind—while they can manage most basic aerial combat maneuvers well enough, a steep dive is too much for any chariot not specifically reinforced for the move, and e’en then the process is not kind to the passengers.
I could spare little thought for our unicorn allies, in any case. As we neared the rebel elements of mine own clan, I felt the tension grow within me. What would pass once the clash of arms began was unknown to me, but I feared it might prove difficult. For all my words to both Gale and the clan, ‘twas far easier to speak of battling those who were once our kin than to see it done. If I found myself facing Cyclone in battle, would I truly be able to strike a killing blow, or had all my anger and bravado merely been a cover for mine own doubts?
Whate’er the case, I would have my answers soon enough. My clan was already committed to the charge. We could not abandon it without leaving ourselves vulnerable to the enemy. We would see soon enough whether Gale’s dire prophecy would come true, and my clan would refuse to engage the rebel Kickers. In truth, I would be hard-pressed to blame them for it. Only the special kind of madness that is war can make the slaying of one’s own kin seem a needful action.
Thankfully, I was denied the opportunity to learn whether I could bring myself to shed kinsblood that day. Moments before the final clash, the rogue elements under Cyclone’s command broke and fled. Though I gave no order, there seemed an unspoken agreement to allow them to leave the field unpursued. ‘Twas plain that they had chosen to leave the field rather than shed the blood of kin, and I saw no reason to force it upon them. We had our objective.
Or at least, we largely held it. Though the rogue Kickers had naturally dominated my attention, there had also been earth ponies watching over the supplies. At the time, I had largely disregarded them, assuming them to be naught but teamsters aiding in the transport of the goods. Now, however, I noted that some of them were armed and armored as members of the milita.
That proved to be to their detriment. Though some earth ponies, like Greenwall’s unit, would prove themselves able enough fighters, such was not the case with these militiaponies. They lacked the training of Greenwall’s forces, likely because the clans saw little point in doing so. I likely would not have considered making use of Greenwall’s force beyond rear-area caravan guards had I pegasi enough to meet the rebels equally.
These militiaponies lacked the training and equipment to stand ‘gainst my warriors. The wiser of them grasped that, and followed the rogue elements of my own clan in fleeing the field. Sadly, not all of them were wise.
“For Luna and freedom!” One of the militia stallions charged me, swinging wildly with an armored hoof. The blow was clumsy and telegraphed, making it simplicity itself to dodge the strike, then counter with a single precisely measured cut of my own wing blade. My blade bit into his unarmored foreleg, and he fell back with a yelp of pain. His face quickly went ashen as he saw the blood dribbling down his wounded limb.
“Maintain pressure on the wound, and thou shalt hold to life ‘til a medicae can see to thee,” I advised him. I saw no point in taking the life of an enemy so poorly matched to me. There was no honor in defeating a helpless foe, and a few untrained and under-equipped militia were as near to helpless as makes no difference.
The echoing crack of a fire gem’s detonation reminded me that not all would take such pains to avoid needless death. Fire is by its very nature an indiscriminate weapon once ‘tis fully unleashed. I could only hope that most of the earth ponies would have the sense to flee for their lives rather than attempt to stand and fight. There was no need for more death than was absolutely required to see our task done.
As if in mockery of that statement, Sunbeam Sparkle’s chariot descended. She wasted no time being about her business, gouts of fire coming forth from her horn in all directions as she transformed the supply train into a conflagration. To my utter lack of surprise, she took no efforts to ensure that any of the wagons were abandoned ere she unleashed her strength upon them. No doubt, she would claim that checking every single wagon would be impractically time-consuming, and that those who aided and abetted the rebel army were legitimate war targets. The logic brought me little comfort when the pained screams started. I will spare the details, but I assure you that being burned to death is an unpleasant way to die.
To my surprise, Sunbeam leapt from her chariot, plummeting towards both the ground and myself. Moments before impact she let forth a massive blast of flame, arresting her momentum and allowing her to land as if she had merely hopped off the bottom step of a staircase instead of plummeting far enough to kill a mare. There was a fell light in her eyes that bespoke a sense of excitement at the destruction she wrought, and the look of madness about her was only enhanced by the fact that large portions of her mane had already burned away.
The Archmagus stalked towards a cluster of unburned wagons. Two of the enemy militia attempted to halt her, but she made quick work of them with a thin ray of fire to the face of the rightmost, followed an instant later by an ice javelin affixing the other to one of the very wagons he sought to protect. She gave a wave of her horn, and the wagons took flame. Well pleased with her handiwork, she turned to me with a too-wide smile. “Ah, I must thank you for this, Shadow. It has been far too long since last I could use fire so freely.”
I did not care for the display, but I made no move to stop her. I had need of her destructive talents and, for the moment, they were being put to a good use. Albeit one more ruthless than I cared for. I had known what unleashing Sunbeam Sparkle ‘pon the enemy would entail, and ‘twould be foolishness to pretend that I had not expected her to wreak havoc on the rebels. I bore my share of responsibility for using the mare, and I would not deny it.
However, when her eyes turned to the militia pony I had spared, I tensed. Her horn lit, gathering the flames to her once more. I tried to intercept her, but she was some distance away, and I was unable to ere she unleashed her spell. The militia pony cried out in pain, and for a moment, I was sorely tempted to apply my blades to the mare. “Why?” I demanded of her. “Is your sickness so great that you would murder a surrendered foe in cold blood?
My rebuke drew her out of her twisted enjoyment of the carnage she had wrought, and she faced me. “Always so quick to rush to judgement, Shadow. Mayhaps you should look to your prisoner ere you declare me a murderer.”
My gaze turned back to the earth pony, and found him still very much alive. Where the open wound my blade had left once stood, there was now a burn mark, but no more blood left the wound. She had cauterized his injury, removing the possibility that he would bleed out.
“Showing leniency to a beaten foe is an excellent means of encouraging your enemies to surrender,” she answered in response to my unspoken question. “As is promising absolute destruction in the face of continued resistance. The two must be used in concert: mere leniency would be perceived as weakness, while offering only destruction would stiffen their resolve to fight to ‘gainst the flailings of a mad dog attacking all who come within reach. Combining the two offers ponies the best possible incentive to lay down their arms.”
Having said her piece, Sunbeam strode past myself and my prisoner, seeking whatever had not yet been consigned to the flames. For my part, I took my prisoner in hoof, and set about organizing the destruction and assembling any other captured earth ponies. I will freely admit that I was at a loss for what precisely I should do with the earth ponies we had captured. My force did not have any easy way of transporting the dozens of earth ponies we had taken back to Canterlot. We had only brought enough chariots for the magi, and they would have need of their transports once our raid was finished.
There was only one practical solution to the problem. “Rebel soldiers, thou art hereby paroled. Return to thy homes, and do not leave them or in any way aid the rebel cause for the duration of this conflict. If thou art found ‘pon the battlefield after this, thou shalt be named as oathbreakers, and punished as such. Is that clear?” (5)
5: Paroling captured enemy soldiers was a fairly common practice at this time, though usually limited to times when holding them as prisoners was impractical. Needless to say, actually enforcing the prohibition against returning to the field was highly problematic, especially when the parole was done hastily in the field, with no written records of the parolees’ names or identifying marks.
I was in the midst of o’erseeing the disposition of our parolees when Gale flew to my side with some urgency. “Mother, our scouts have informed me that rebel reinforcements are en-route. We will need to withdraw at once if we want to avoid being forced into battle.”
Unfortunate. ‘Twould seem that while Cyclone could not bring himself to attack us, he had no such qualms about reporting our presence to his fellow rebels. Or mayhaps the fires we left in our wake had betrayed our location and activities. As Sunbeam was still occupied with inflicting her own wanton destruction, I turned to the nearest available magus whom I recognized. “Magus Shimmer, art thou and thine prepared to depart?”
Daylight Shimmer frowned in response. “We are still scattered and destroying the last of the enemy supplies. ‘Twould take time to gather everypony for an orderly withdrawal. How long, I cannot say for certain. It rather depends on how enthusiastic some of my fellow magi have become, and how quickly their charioteers can seek them out. And allowing the fires more time to burn would help ensure that less can be salvaged.”
I greeted the news with an annoyed grunt. After Cyclone’s abrupt departure, I had dared to hope we might complete this operation without needing to engage any of our fellow pegasi in battle. ‘Twould seem that had been a vain hope. I turned to Gale once more. “Their numbers and formation?”
“If our scouts are to be believed, ‘tis Rightly Doo and his hetairoi .” Assuming he had not expanded the size of the hetairoi since my departure from Cloudsdale, that would put him at weaker than mine own forces in raw numbers. However, the hetairoi were traditionally the best of Pegasopolis, and he had no need to crush my forces with his hetairoi alone. Simply engaging them would delay our departure long enough for more numbers to be brought to bear.
However, ‘twas not their numbers or tactics that filled my heart with despair, but the identity of their leader. In truth, I should have anticipated it. ‘Twas Rightly’s way to hold his personal force in reserve ‘til he located the battle’s decisive point. ‘Twould seem he had judged the assault ‘pon his supply caravan as such, and was determined to blunt my assault. Indeed, given their earlier assumption that I held o’erall command of the army, ‘twas quite possible Rightly had reserved his force until I took the field.
However, that ‘twas Rightly leading the charge ‘gainst me opened an opportunity of its own. Though it seemed cruel to think on it, war is a time of harsh actions and unpleasant decisions. “I will delay him. Gale, see to the continuing destruction of their camp, and prepare our forces for a quick departure.” I looked about and took of note of Sergeant Stalwart. “Sergeant, with me. We will hold them, for a time.”
Given Sunbeam’s earlier lie, there was a fitting irony to my plan. A challenge to Rightly would likely halt his counter-attack for a time. The hetairoi would wish to bear witness to their commander in battle, e’en if he were a false one. Rightly would be slow to face me directly in battle—though I would be no swifter in bringing myself to wound him, the delay favored mine own forces o’er his.
Stalwart offered a single grim nod in answer to my orders, and his squad joined me in the air. To my surprise, we came across Sunbeam, once more installed in her flying chariot, en-route to Rightly’s force. Given that her attention was fixed ‘pon the oncoming pegasi, I judged it likely that she had intended to take some action of her own to delay them. She espied us quickly enough, and her bearers brought her chariot alongside my formation. “‘Twould seem the battle has taken a turn ‘gainst us, Shadow. Pray, tell me that your charge with a single squad is not some foolish act of noble self-sacrifice.”
“I have no intention of dying or allowing mine own capture.”
“Most ponies who die in battle had no intention of doing so,” Sunbeam countered dryly.
Though I would not hesitate to sacrifice myself should circumstances demand it, I was also aware of mine own importance to the loyalist cause. I knew the ponies of the Ephorate as one comrade knows another, and such experience was far too valuable a commodity to be squandered. Further, while I did not credit Gale’s dire warnings regarding the state of my clan’s loyalty, I suspected that if I were to fall many among my clan would be tempted to seek unity with Cyclone’s traitors. Gale was not yet seasoned enough to take my place as materfamilias, and if any other sought clan leadership the uncertainty o’er who led ‘mongst the loyal Kickers would likely drive many into Cyclone’s hooves.
Despite the dire risks of personally leading an attack, I continued forward. War is a matter of taking risks, especially if one is to properly lead one’s own soldiers. If I held myself from the fray whilst claiming that position of leadership made me too valuable an asset to risk in battle, my clan would not allow me to hold that post for long. Such is the nature of command. If I fell in battle, at least I could die knowing I fought for Celestia and a better Equestria.
I turned to Stalwart. “Sergeant, inform them of our presence, and that I wish to issue a challenge.”
“Allow me.” The instant I heard the light, playful tone in Sunbeam’s voice I realized our peril, but ere I could prevent it she unleashed a blast of fire towards the hetairoi . They were yet distant enough that the fire faded to naught but a tiny point of light, but a few moments after it left all sight it briefly flashed, and a winged form fell to the ground. The Archmagus turned to me, wearing a self-satisfied smile. “I think we have their attention, now.”
I hissed in irritation, and made a mental note to address this breach of discipline. However, for the moment there were more pressing concerns. “The challenge will have to come after the second pass! Be ready!” Presuming we could survive a single clash with the Doos. I had hoped to avoid any fighting, but after Sunbeam’s strike, the Doos would demand at least a single pass with lance and blade ere they would hear any challenge.
Damn Sunbeam Sparkle.
My clan made ready, spreading their formation as much as possible to prevent any single pony from being too utterly o’erwhelmed by the enemy’s numbers. With luck, we might manage to cause greater damage in a single pass than we would sustain. If nothing else, their numbers offered us far more targets to strike than they would have. And Sunbeam Sparkle, whate’er her faults, had a talent for wreaking destruction.
A brief moment of concentration activated the enchantments on my wing blades, and I angled myself to pass ‘tween two ponies of the hetairoi, intent on bring both to the ground with strikes to their wings. Howe’er, that plan was quickly adjusted as we drew nearer, and I realized that one of the ponies I would engage was Dusk Charger. Though I would not hesitate to battle him if forced to, he had been a guest in my home. There were others I could strike with far less internal troubles.
However, the last-second adjustment cost me, and while I was able to strike at two of the hetairoi , neither of them suffered as telling of a blow as I would have preferred. They would occupy some time in a chirurgeon’s tent, but neither of them had any great difficulty remaining airborne. To my annoyance, others of my clan enjoyed better results, though the pass did take a toll on mine own numbers as well, and we could ill afford such losses.
Most notably, Sunbeam Sparkle had drawn the interest of the hetairoi’s leader, Lance. Either Celestia had not thought to warn her to spare the mare’s life, or Sunbeam had opted to ignore that warning. Whate’er the case, when a gout of fire struck Lance Charger I was all but certain that Celestia’s plans for the mare had been undone. However, a moment later Lance emerged from the blaze, singed and smoldering, but still very much alive. ‘Twas most surprising, for I had been all but certain that the strike should have killed her.
Sunbeam had prudently ducked behind her chariot for protection the instant after she had unleashed her fire and an accompanying blast of arctic cold that froze the wings of a hetairoi whom I did not recognize. However, while Sunbeam herself would be difficult to strike, the ones bearing her conveyance were easy prey. Lance buried her namesake weapon in the chest of one, while Rightly emerged from the ranks of his hetairoi to thrust his own smaller spear into the throat of the second. Deprived of both its bearers, Sunbeam’s chariot lost all speed, and soon plummeted to the earth.
Sunbeam leapt from the doomed chariot, and after she had plummeted clear of it, one of the gems worked into her cloak flashed bright blue, arresting her fall. Ere she could do something else we would all have cause to regret, I signalled Stalwart, and he hastily retrieved the floating mage and went about returning her to the ground.
That matter attended to, I returned my mind to the reason for my arrival. “Rightly Doo! False Commander and traitor! I challenge thee to juris ungula !”
One of the inevitable problems of trying to build the narrative of an entire war from a single pony’s account is that there will inevitably be certain key events that the subject simply wasn’t present for. While Shadow’s indecisive duel with Lance Charger would ultimately have broader implications for the war, one key event in the battle she left behind was even more important. Sadly, finding a personal account of the battle in question has proven rather difficult for reasons that will eventually become rather apparent.
Once again I must thank Princess Twilight Sparkle for everything she’s done to help with this project, as the document I needed for this was part of the Sparkle family’s personal archives. Unsurprisingly, given their house’s origins in the Rebellion, the Sparkles have one of the larger private collections of material regarding the war. The following account was taken from the war journal of Sir Radiant Day of the Order of Sol Invictus. I have had to take a few minor creative liberties with the journal, as its base account was a bit bare-bones, but I haven’t significantly altered the flow of events.
The raid ‘pon the enemy supply camp began with a most unexpected and unwelcome development for me. Though I had by fortunate coincidence been assigned to the chariot managed by the lovely young Nimbus Kicker, I had a most unwelcome passenger. (1) I turned to my younger sister and squire. “White Knight, why art thou here? Did I not make it plain that thou wert to remain with the main army?”
1: It is quite possible this was not a coincidence at all. Though modern military doctrine frowns on placing lovers too close to one another on the battlefield, as it can easily compromise a pony’s judgment, several older Pegasopolan writers advised doing the opposite on the theory that ponies would fight harder and without any fear of death or injury when within sight of their loved ones.
My sister answered me with a shrug. “I think there was some confusion regarding your orders, brother. Grandmaster Crossguard informed me that a squire’s place in battle was at their master’s side, and I could hardly gainsay him.” White looked at me, and a faint knowing smirk crossed her lips. “Though I will note that I have been here since before we left the ground, and you have only now taken note of my presence. I daresay you were too distracted; could it be that you were too busy watching the mare carrying our chariot to even notice me?”
“That is untrue,” I instantly responded.
Her grin widened. “Then 'tis pure coincidence that you are in a position to admire the backside of a mare whom all can see you find comely? The same mare you follow about like a lost puppy whene’er she visits our compound—which I will note she does rather often for a mare with no formal ties to our order.”
Blessed sun preserve me from the endless trials of being my sister’s keeper. I dearly hoped that the exertions of bearing our chariot were such that Nimbus was unable to attend the details of our conversation, given the subject matter. “When I was a squire, I respected my master,” I groused. “If I failed to do so, then he surely would have given me cause to regret it.” In truth, I suspect old Sir Shield would find my current tribulations most amusing and gladly tell my sister of the difficulties I had caused him.
“I respect you, brother,” she countered. “Honesty is an important aspect of showing respect.” She turned to me, her face the very picture of innocence. “Tell me, brother, did your master also spend his time ogling comely mares?”
I mustered all the quiet dignity I could. “A gentlecolt does not ogle.”
White’s scepticism was plain to see. “Then that leaves one of two possibilities. Either you are not a gentlecolt, or I have badly misinterpreted the situation.”
“Obviously 'tis the second,” I primly informed her.
“Obviously,” she agreed, a faint smile tugging at her lips once again. “That being the case, I will make a point of telling Lieutenant Nimbus that you do not find her comely. ‘Twould not do to have her labor under false pretenses on the eve of a battle.”
“Thou shalt do no such thing,” I all but snapped at her.
White answered me with a single raised eyebrow. “I see no reason to become so upset, brother. I was merely attempting to render you aid by resolving a potential misunderstanding. May I inquire as to the reasoning behind this order?”
The Light truly cursed me on the day it gave my sister her talents and chose investigation. None of my secrets have been safe from her since. I fell back on the oldest answer of those in authority. “Because I have ordered it. 'Tis an order from thy master and elder, and 'tis not thy place to question it.”
White rolled her eyes, no doubt commenting ‘pon my inadequacies as an elder brother within the privacy of her own mind. “Very well then, brother. If you are to use your rank as a club, then I shall obey.”
We continued on in silence for a time, my sister falling silent as the battlefield approached. I was briefly distracted by the sight of the rogue elements of the Kicker clan fleeing the field ere my attention turned once more to White. I noted that she had begun fidgeting about nervously, checking and rechecking both her weapons and armor. I guessed at the cause of her distress and lay a hoof on her shoulder. “Courage, sister.”
White’s voice dropped to a low murmur. “I confess I am ... somewhat nervous, brother.”
“All knights are, on the eve of battle,” I assured her. “Stay near my side, and I promise that no harm will come to thee.”
White offered a shaky nod, but then shook her head a moment later. “Neigh, brother. ‘Tis not my own life for which I fear. Well, ‘twould be untrue to say that I have no fear for it, but ‘tis not the principal source of my disquiet. I have never killed before. I am worried that I will not do my duty when the time comes.”
I gave her shoulder a quick reassuring squeeze. “Do not allow thy thoughts to linger on it, sister. 'Twill only give doubt and fear more time to take a hold 'pon thee.”
White’s gaze dropped to the floor of our chariot. “I do not wish to disgrace our house and order.”
“Thou shalt not,” I assured her. “I know this in my heart.”
My sister answered me with a nervous smile. “My thanks for your kind words, brother.” She made one final inspection of her fire gem and the rest of her wargear, then gave a satisfied nod and settled. “I will follow my orders as best I can.”
“I never doubted that, or thee.” There was no time for more words ere battle was joined. (2)
2: At this point there is a gap in the narrative regarding the battle’s early stages. It’s one of the problems of using a war journal over proper memoirs: it’s not a full account so much as a collection of detailed notes, and like most notes only the key points are included. Sadly, I couldn’t find a way to include the rather flattering sketch he made of Nimbus Kicker.
During the battle’s course, I remained near Nimbus’ side lest we have need to take to the air again. I also met with Daylight swiftly enough. White, Nimbus, and I were largely content to remain by his side, supporting and defending him whilst he set fire to the enemy’s supplies. Though Daylight Shimmer was not possessed of the same range of pyromancy as the infamous Sunbeam Sparkle, he was still a most potent caster. His skill with fire naturally inclined some to think he might be her bastard, though I judged it unlikely—Grand Vizier Sparkle had not hesitated to embrace her bastard daughter Midnight.
We had been at our work for some time when Nimbus let out a warning cry. “Above! Look to the skies!”
I turned my eyes upwards and saw a mass of rebel pegasi charging for our position. I should have guessed at the risk sooner: Daylight was one of the few full pyromancers in the field, and as such an obvious target for the enemy. Fire gems and torches might start fires passably enough, but a true pyromancer could unleash hotter flames o’er a far wider area.
As the enemy neared, White and I both set our halberds to receive their charge while Daylight armed himself with a flaming blade. Nimbus prepared to launch herself into the air to meet the enemy as well. However, ere the enemy met us, something most unexpected occurred.
I heard a cry from Lady Gale Kicker, and a small force of Kickers emerged from behind several nearby wagons to take the rebels in the flank. I needed a moment to grasp precisely what had happened, but once I did, I confessed myself impressed. ‘Twould seem that Lady Gale had grasped that Daylight would draw the attention of the enemy, and used him as bait to draw an attack into an ambush point. Her force did not have the numbers to crush the rebels, but she did break the charge and drop a few of their number to the ground.
I closed on one pegasus who had fallen near us, intending to make a prisoner of him. An older stallion, though not so old as to have no place on the battlefield, and something about his appearance struck me as familiar. Aside from a wing that looked to have been fouled by an unusual sort of throwing spike, he seemed quite capable of fighting. His olive green armor marked him a member of the Doo clan, and ‘twas finely made to the point where I judged him a pony of some importance. I leveled my halberd at him. “Hold! Lay down your weapons and you will not be harmed!”
The pegasus stallion turned to me, and with a casual wave of his short spear knocked my halberd aside. “Didst thou ask me to surrender? I think not.” He spun his spear about into a ready stance. “I will offer thee the same opportunity. Surrender, or withdraw without loss of honor.”
“Surrender?” I glanced to the side and was pleased to see that Nimbus and Daylight were already moving to guard my flanks and surround the rebel. White remained somewhat behind me, watching my back for any new enemy who might spring upon us. “With all respect, rebel, why would we surrender or flee when the advantage is ours?”
“‘Twould appear thou dost hold the advantage, aye,” the rebel conceded. “However, appearances can be deceiving.” His eyes passed over the three of us, as well as my sister. “Is it to be three or four against one, then? Hardly equitable numbers. I request single combat.”
A far from unusual request, but one I was disinclined to acquiesce to even though ‘twas plain enough that he was a stallion of rank. “I hold the advantage of numbers and position. With respect, sir, were our positions reversed, would you grant me single combat?”
The rebel was silent for long enough to betray his answer e’en before he spoke the words. “Neigh, I would not unless thou wert of sufficient rank to merit such an honor. And only three ponies ‘mongst Celestia’s servants might merit such. Thou art none of them.”
His statement struck me as curious, but Daylight was faster to grasp the meaning that I. “You are Rightly Doo, the leader of the rebellion.”
Nimbus turned to both of us in turn, a confused frown on her face. “Thou didst not know him?”
“Those of us who only briefly visited Cloudsdale more than a month ago did not memorize the name and appearance of every single pegasus we encountered.” He frowned at our opponent, then inclined his head. “Ephor, it will be an honor to capture you.”
A faint smile flitted across Ephor Doo’s face. “Ah, the arrogance of youth. Do not be so quick to declare me captured ere battle is e’en joined. Though I do not have Bright’s grand reputation in personal combat, thou shalt not find me an easy foe.”
“We shall see soon enough, sir.” Though he was the enemy, I would afford him the respect due to his station. In truth, had he named his rank ere he requested single combat I might have been tempted to grant it—though I suspect I would have to do so over some objections. If we could take the leader of the rebellion now, many lives might be saved. I was well within my rights to refuse him single combat, and given the stakes e’en Grandmaster Crossguard would find no fault in putting the needs of the war o’er showing respect to the pony who had ignited the conflict.
“Given the gravity of the matter at hoof, sir,” I began, “I believe honor demands that I use any and all decent means at my disposal to defeat and capture you.” I glanced back to my sister. “White, stand back from the battle and ensure we are undisturbed. This fight may well be beyond thy skills.”
Rightly offered a slight nod as my sister fell back. “My thanks for that; I would take no pleasure in fighting a child, squire or no.” He shifted his position, trying to keep a wary eye on myself and both my allies. His eyes lingered on fair Nimbus. “I have no desire to fight a fellow pegasus, especially one of Shadow’s kin. I bid thee, stand aside.”
“I will not,” Nimbus stood firm, meeting his eyes. “I follow my materfamilias , and she has judged you an enemy of Equestria.” Her gaze turned to me, and I noted a gentleness in her eyes. “And these ponies are my friends and allies. I would not betray them for your sake.”
“So be it.” Rightly answered grimly, bringing his weapon up for a quick salute ere he returned it to the ready. “‘Tis to be a battle of three ‘gainst one, then? Then I shall fight thrice as well as any of thee!”
Ephor Doo went on the offensive, directing his attack at the greatest threat, Daylight. The magus lashed out with his flaming blade, but the ephor caught it on the shaft of his spear. As the flames dispersed, I noted a thick band of cold iron worked along the spear’s shaft, presumably for exactly that purpose. The block brought his spear out of position for a thrust, but he struck Daylight across the horn with the weapon’s weighted butt, dropping the mage.
I could hardly allow the rebel to strike at my friend without extracting some recompense for the blow. By charging Daylight, Ephor Doo had exposed his right flank to me. I closed and attempted a hack at his rear leg with my halberd, but he must have either seen or foreseen my attack, and quickly stepped inside it, robbing my strike of its strength as my halberd’s shaft slapped ‘gainst his leg.
However, in doing that he had committed an error, though a minor one. In my training with Lady Shadow’s pegasi, I had noted that many of them were caught unawares by tripping techniques. ‘Twas no surprise that hoofwork was often a somewhat neglected discipline amongst warriors who almost always preferred aerial combat. That is not to say that the ephor’s hoofwork was that of an amateur, but ‘twas less honed than the rest of his skills. And I hazard he had ne’er faced this particular technique before.
Though he had closed past my halberd’s range for a proper strike, his hind leg now stood ‘tween myself and my weapon’s head. In many circumstances, ‘twould have been a disarming move. ‘Gainst a halberdier, it left him terribly vulnerable. I recovered my weapon, and as I pulled it towards myself, hooked the dull back curve of the axe-head ‘round his leg, pulling him badly off balance.
‘Twas only a momentary weakness, but one Nimbus was quick to exploit. She darted a short distance o’er Rightly, so near to me that I felt the wind of her passage. In her wake, I noted a deep cut on the wing that had not been fouled by the throwing spike. She had denied him the possibility of retreat or escape, and kept the battle where we held the greatest advantage.
Rightly staggered from the blow, whirling his spear defensively as he shifted position to keep myself and Nimbus in clear sight, as well as move away from Daylight. Though the magus had not yet recovered from the sharp blow Rightly had delivered to his temple, ‘twould not be wise to be so near him when Daylight recovered. E’en if he were in no condition to spellcast, Daylight was a capable physical fighter by virtue of his training in the Order.
“A pincer movement?” I murmured to Nimbus, hoping the words might not carry to Rightly. “He cannot defend front and back at once.”
She answered with a slight shake of her head and equally hushed tones. “He will expect it. ‘Twould be best if we could somehow take him unawares.”
“Agreed.” I thought on the matter and quickly hit upon a solution. The previous exchange led me to believe that the ephor had no experience in fighting a halberdier, and thus I might well succeed in taking him by surprise with a well-timed maneuver. The halberd’s versatility is one of its greatest assets, and the reason why ‘tis my preferred weapon. “Flank with me.”
I approached from the front, thrusting with my halberd several times to gauge his reaction time. He dodged and deflected the attacks easily enough, sliding back and to the side to prevent Nimbus from moving behind him. However, his withdrawal gradually forced him back towards a cluster of burning wagons, until he could no longer back away. He spread his wings to escape the trap, but after a single flap he winced and pressed them back ‘gainst his sides. ‘Twould seem Nimbus’ strike had succeeded in grounding him for the moment.
His brief attempt at flight had left him somewhat off balance, and I quickly moved to exploit it with a heavy overhead chop. Rightly could not dodge it without placing himself in the fire or exposing himself to a strike from Nimbus, and so he brought up his spear to block with the shaft instead. As the blade would have split his spear’s shaft in two, he once more had to step within my reach, this time to block shaft to shaft.
As before, I drew my halberd in, this time hoping to hook his weapon and tear it out of his grasp. However, ‘twould seem I had underestimated the ephor, for he turned his spear so that the cold iron band pressed ‘gainst my weapon. Though a small bit of cold iron was not enough to wholly disrupt my magical grasp on my weapon, it did rob a portion of my strength from the pull. Enough to keep me from disarming him.
Rightly closed further, slamming a hoof into the hollow ‘tween my ribs and throat. I staggered back, and the ephor pulled his spear free, then swept my forelegs out from beneath me using the weighted butt end of his spear. A moment later his shoulder slammed ‘gainst mine, bodily o’erturning me.
However, in committing himself to the attack ‘gainst me, Rightly was forced to take his eyes off Nimbus, and she was quick to use that. A quickness which I was gratified to note redoubled when she saw my own distress. Ere the ephor could bring his spear to bear to finish me, Nimbus barreled into his back, knocking his spear out of his grasp. Catching him unawares she was quick to lock a foreleg around his neck, attempting to subdue him with a quick chokehold. He attempted to bring up his forelegs to break the hold, but Nimbus’ blades lashed out once more and inflicted several minor wounds on his forelegs, driving his hooves off.
Though she secured her hold, the rebel ephor was naturally disinclined to allow himself to be disabled. His head snapped back, the crest of his helm meeting Nimbus’ muzzle with an audible crunch. Blood gushed out, and a moment later she spat out a broken tooth. Her grip did not waver with the first strike, but when he followed it with another, her hooves slackened enough to allow him to free his head.
He followed his escape by lashing out with one of his hind legs, catching her in the gut. Whilst she tried to recover her breath, he quickly reversed himself and threw his shoulder into the mare, sending her stumbling into me. I had only begun to recover my hooves, and the collision with Nimbus cause the two of us to fall against one another in a wild tangle of limbs.
With all three of his opponents temporarily downed, Rightly Doo might well have made good his escape were it not for my sister. White Knight strode forward to bar his way, her own halberd held at the ready. “Halt!” Though there was a tremble in both her voice and her weapon, she stood her ground.
The rebel leader recovered his spear, then turned to my sister with a frown. “Stand aside, young lady. I do not fight children.”
White remained still save for further trembling, and the rebel ephor began to move past her, clearly believing she was no threat. As he passed by her, White answered him with a sideways swing of her halberd, taking the ephor by surprise with her sudden daring. He moved his spear to block the blow, but his moment of hesitation cost him, and his spear’s shaft only caught the top spike of her halberd. Though it robbed her blow of some of its momentum, the halberd’s blade still struck his flanchard with an audible crunch, and the ephor let out a pained grunt.
“I am no child!” my sister declared, pulling her halberd back into a ready position. “I am a warrior in the Order of Sol Invictus, and I will face you in battle, rebel and false commander!”
“I see.” Ephor Doo faced her squarely and offered her a respectful nod. “So be it, then.” As I scrambled to free myself from my entanglement with Nimbus and regain my hooves, he advanced on her, thrusting repeatedly with his spear. White blocked as best she could, but she could not match his speed or skill, and within five moves he had disarmed her and had his spear tip at her throat. “Valiantly done, child.” He pulled his weapon back. “Go home and live out this war. Enough will die without adding thee to their number.”
White moved aside, not e’en recovering her fallen weapon. However, her swift defeat had still delayed Rightly Doo enough to allow me to extract myself from my difficult position with Nimbus, and I was further heartened to see Daylight rejoining the field. The Magus-Knight’s fiery weapons did not burn with their usual intensity, but they still seemed potent enough to trouble his foes.
The ephor turned his attention to each of us in turn, a frown on his face. For all the skill he had shown in battle, the situation had not developed in his favor. The wounds he had taken bled freely, and though he had struck blows ‘gainst all of us, none were sufficient to remove us from battle or e’en seriously impede our ability to fight.
Our course of action from this point forward was simple enough. “Wolfpack Confronts the Manticore.” Daylight knew the Order’s maneuvers by heart, and Nimbus had learned many of them in her time with me o’er the last several weeks. Wolfpack was one we frequently used against the larger, more dangerous foes we faced. Much like the image it evoked, it relied on several ponies surrounding a single enemy and striking in turn, none taking any needless risks or attempting a swift victory. A stream of minor wounds or the simple exertion of fighting multiple enemies would wear our opponent down until he was in no state to continue the battle.
So matters proceeded with Rightly Doo. Daylight strode forward and slashed out with flaming blade, but e’en as Rightly blocked that blow I darted in at his flanks, jabbing the tip of my halberd into the meat of his thigh. I only managed a shallow wound ere Rightly whirled to face me, but e’en as I withdrew in the face of his counterstrike Nimbus advanced and scraped her blade along his flank armor.
So matters continued for a full minute, as the rogue ephor’s strikes slowly lost momentum with each exertion and wound he suffered. Once ‘twas clear his strength was waning, I grew bold and attempted the very disarming maneuver he had turned against me earlier in the battle. However, this time he lacked the speed or skill to outmaneuver me, and I tore his weapon from his hooves, then put my halberd’s spike ‘gainst his throat. “‘Tis finished. You are beaten.”
Rightly’s eyes fell to the weapon at his throat, and his wounded body slumped so heavily I withdrew lest I unmeaningly slay him. “So it is,” he conceded. “Finish it then. I do not fear death: ‘twould only send me to the side of my wife and child.”
I stepped back, lest he attempt to open his throat ‘pon my weapon. Though slaying him would be a notable achievement in its own right, I would prefer to take him alive, that he might either be used as a symbol to demoralize the rebels or traded from some of the survivors of Polaris’ expedition. I judged him unlikely to cooperate with such a request, however. “Daylight? Canst thou…?”
“Of course.” Daylight’s horn lit, and the rebel leader stumbled, struggling to stay on his hooves and keep his eyes open. Though sleep spells were no specialty of Daylight’s, the ephor’s mind was as weakened as his body by the battle’s exertions. ‘Twas not long ere he fell into an ensorcelled sleep.
We had him. We had captured Rightly Doo.
With that brief aside finished, I would now like to return to Dusk Charger and his account of the battle’s aftermath.
“Be still, Lance,” Dawn chided. “I do not know how thou canst suffer such wounds unflinchingly on the battlefield, yet when the time comes for treatment thou becomest so ... difficult.”
“I am not being difficult,” my elder sister insisted e’en as she pulled her muzzle free of Dawn’s grasp once more. “I simply do not enjoy being handled so roughly by my younger sister. Mother has obviously ne’er been treated by thee if she still proclaims thee a gentle soul.” She let out a snort, but winced as it sent air through her much-abused nose. “I am perfectly fine, sister. The wound will heal quickly enough without treatment, and there are many others whose need is greater than mine. It does not e’en pain me.”
Dawn let forth an aggrieved sigh. “If thou art so concerned for my valuable time, sister, then perhaps thou couldst refrain from wasting it by acting as if thou wert the youngest of us. Verily, young Shield handles her treatment with greater dignity than thee.” I let out a snort at the thought of our youngest sibling, barely aged past the point of being a suckling babe, being Lance’s better. However, my mirth merely drew Dawn’s wrath upon me as well. “And you, brother. Cease thy chortling and aid me with our sister.”
Lance turned upon me as well, seeking a fresh ally. “Aye, brother. Reason with our sister, so that I might have leave to heal my wounds in peace.”
Thus did I find myself in a position almost no stallion would seek: trapped between two aggravated mares who both insisted that I take a side in their dispute. Neither answer would lead to a satisfactory result; I could mortally offend my older sister and commanding officer, or I could anger the mare who would tend my wounds after battle. Or I could suggest some manner of compromise, but I suspect that would merely anger the both of them equally. At least I could always flee Equestria. I suppose I could bring the matter to Mother for mediation, but that would likely only anger her as well.
In my later years, ponies often asked how I became so skilled with mares. I would simply say that in my clanhold, learning to placate and charm mares with fiery passions and quick tempers was a necessary survival skill.
I chose the best course I could see. “Sister, I am uncertain how it is honorable to cause needless troubles for our beloved junior sister and chirurgeon.”
Lance’s eyes narrowed, and I had a grim premonition that I had just volunteered for several particularly unpleasant assignments that might await the hetairoi . However, Lance’s ire was as a gentle summer rain compared to Dawn’s when she was fully roused. And as importantly, Lance was usually quicker to forgive such minor transgressions. Dawn had a long memory, and lacked Lance’s freedom to unleash her anger by beating or slaying enemy soldiers.
However, whate’er undeserved wrath she might visit ‘pon me in the future, for now Lance seemed content to abide by my decision. She submitted herself into Dawn’s care, and offered little in the way of protest at her treatment of the injuries sustained in the duel with Shadow Kicker. A duel I was quite certain had been interrupted by the lovely but underhoofed Gale Kicker. A pity matters had come to war, for I suspect I would have enjoyed paying court to her. If nothing else, checking all my food and drink for poisons and hidden razor blades would have proven a novel experience.
Once the only matter Dawn had left unattended was Lance’s nose, she sighed and turned aside. “Fresh Bindings? I have need of thy skills.” One of our captured unicorn medics approached, and at Dawn’s direction employed his skills in tending to my sister’s damaged muzzle. “Thank you, Fresh.”
“Of course, milady,” the unicorn answered deferentially. “I will be tending upon the other wounded, but call at once if you have need of me.”
Lance massaged her straightened muzzle and glowered at the departing unicorn medic. “I am still unsure of the wisdom of allowing unicorns who were our enemies a few short days ago to treat our injured. It is unwise to trust any pony who is so quick to turn their coat.”
“That is because the chirurgeon’s honor is different than the warrior’s, sister.” Dawn shook her head and sighed in resignation. “Whereas a warrior finds honor in the protection of clan and commander, the chirurgeon’s honor lies in the preservation of life. All life, regardless of whose colors they wear. On this day alone, I can name three of our number who would certainly have died were Fresh not present to aid me, and a dozen more who likely would have perished. And more could be saved, if our unicorn chirurgeons were not required to ply their arts under pegasus supervision.”
“In a way, ‘tis no different than using a particularly fine weapon dropped by a fallen foe,” I opined. My gaze turned to the unicorn, already hard at work healing another pegasus. “Though I think mayhaps Dawn is a touch too quick to trust them. Chirurgeon’s honor or not, I would feel safer if any unicorn doctor tended my wounds with a pegasus blade resting near his neck. ‘Twould be far too easy to arrange for a seemingly minor wound to take a lethal infection.”
Dawn was in the midst of preparing an answer—and by the frown gracing her face ‘twould not be one I enjoyed—when we were thankfully interrupted by Mother’s arrival. Mother strode to Lance’s side, though she spared approving smiles for myself and Dawn as she approached our elder sibling. “I have heard it said thou didst encounter Shadow on the field, and would have beaten her were juris not brought to a premature end. Is it so?”
Lance answered with a single nod. “I think it likely I would have won, though battle is e’er uncertain.”
Mother answered by wrapping a wing around her, pulling Lance close to nuzzle her. “First an archmagus, and now the arch-traitor. If thou dost continue to perform so admirably, I think ‘tis possible thou couldst earn a place in the Ephorate ere I e’en retire from it. ‘Tis a rare thing to seat two ponies from the same clan, but not unprecedented in the case of a mare of such singular skill.” Her voice dropped to a low whisper. “Though I mean no disrespect to my esteemed colleague, ‘tis plain to see that restoring Cyclone has failed to preserve his clan. A blind ephor who would flee the field rather than stand and fight is a matter for consideration.”
Lance’s eyes widened at the implication. “Mother, you are suggesting that such a thing could happen now? I had not thought to join the Ephorate for another decade!”
“The needs of war can alter many plans,” Mother answered with a faint smile. “The remnants of the loyal Kickers cannot produce a worthy replacement for Cyclone should the need arise. Of the lesser clans there are some, but none who have distinguished themselves so much as to be a clear choice. And certainly none who have gained so much honor as thou hast, my child.”
“I see.” There was a tension in my older sister’s stance, though Mother seemed blind to it. “If it is the Ephorate’s belief that I would best serve Pegasopolis and Equestria in that fashion, then I shall of course endeavour to fill that role to the best of my abilities.”
“I ne’er doubted that, dear child.” Mother bestowed a single kiss ‘pon Lance’s forehead. “I am, and always will be, unbelievably proud of thee.” She turned from my sister to me and let forth a faint sigh. “Ah, Dusk. Why canst thou not live up to thy sister’s shining example?” Her smile and the mirth in her tone robbed the words of the bite some might have thought they carried. ‘Twas always Mother’s way to engage each of us in a manner suited to our personal eccentricities.
“As always, it seems I am doomed to disappoint you, Mother.” I turned to her with a smile of my own. “Though in my defense, I will say that my position in the hetairoi has rather limited my opportunities. When my sister wins such honor and renown with every battle, there is little left for me to gain.” I turned to my elder sister. “Next time, pray leave an enemy of some worth standing on the field for me to defeat. ‘Twould be most appreciated. Surely thou couldst at least leave some opportunity to prove myself 'gainst some lowly squire or militia captain before thou dost pounce 'pon all our enemies. Otherwise Mother might think me lazy or incompetent and disown me.”
“Oh, I am already quite certain thou art lazy,” Mother answered with an easy smile. “Thou needs not press thyself to disprove it.”
“Ah, such cruel words from mine own dear mother cut me to the quick.” I put a hoof o’er my heart and swooned dramatically. “And after all the love and affection I have heaped ‘pon her o’er all the years of my life...”
“Alas for my poor unloved and neglected son, then.” Mother stepped forward and kissed me just as she had Lance. “Perhaps some day thy skill at combating the enemy will equal thy skill at chasing after the opportunity to bed a comely mare.”
I smirked. “Obviously, Mother, the solution would be to send me to a battlefront where the enemy consists entirely of beautiful mares. I would have them all defecting to our cause inside a fortnight.”
Dawn grinned and pressed a hoof to my forehead. “Ah, ‘tis as I feared.” She sighed and mournfully shook her head. “The fever has at last reached his brain, and now his head is so badly swollen that he thinks himself a great lover when I know for a fact he has yet to bed a mare.”
“Dawn!” I wailed, understandably distressed. “That was told in strictest confidence!”
As I said before, when Dawn is of a mind to inflict suffering ‘pon me she can be most fearsome.
Mother and my sisters shared a laugh at my expense, and Mother turned to Dawn, speaking of her medical works. However, my attention was quickly torn from the two of them as I noted Lance making a hasty exit from the room. ‘Twas strange to see her leaving so quickly, especially when Mother was still present. Though she had already shared her words with Lance, ‘twas customary for us all to attend her when she was present.
I followed after my sister, noting that she moved with some haste through our camp. She quickly took to the sky, and I wondered if I would be forced to follow her all the way Cloudsdale. Though the city moved on Canterlot, ‘twas still a good hour’s flight distant from our frontline groundside camp. Despite the Ephorate’s preference for a cloudside base of operations, ‘twas plain that the needs of our earth pony allies and unicorn servitors required a ground camp.
Thankfully, my sister instead halted on an isolated cloud far from any other ponies. Once ‘twas plain she would not be leaving this location shortly, I landed next to her. I was taken aback by the state I found her in. Gone was the mare who was the very pinnacle of Pegasopolan honor and courage, and in her place was a wild-eyed pony gasping for breath whilst her eyes darted about wildly. I knew the expression, but I could scarcely believe that my sister was in a state of panic. She had faced archmagi and a rogue ephor without hesitation, yet now her courage faltered when the enemy was far from us?
Neigh, it could not be. Clearly, I was mistaken.
I carefully approached my sister and put a reassuring hoof on her shoulder. “Lance. Sister, does something trouble you?”
Lance turned to me, and she visibly attempted to still her breathing. However, one cannot go from fraught with emotion to stoic calm at a moment’s notice, and her distress remained plain. “‘Tis ... I am somewhat o'erwhelmed, brother.”
I did as any sibling would, ‘pon seeing my sister’s distress. “I am here, Lance.” I drew her into a gentle embrace. “Take a moment to gather thyself, all is well.”
My sister closed her eyes and drew in several deep breaths, slowly regaining the calm I normally saw from her. “I apologize for being witnessed in such an unbecoming state.”
“Neigh, do not apologize.” I tried to make a passable imitation of the gentle, encouraging smiles Mother would offer whene’er one of us was in distress. “I would be a poor brother indeed if I were not here for my sister in her time of need. We all have our moments of distress, and I will help thee through this one with utmost discretion.”
“I thank thee for it.” Lance was briefly silent, then let forth a heavy sigh. “I confess, Mother's ambitions for me are ... most ambitious.”
My sister does have her own way with words. “Ah, so that is the issue at hoof?” I settled onto the cloud, remaining supportively against my sister’s side. “Mother has always pushed us to meet her expectations, has she not? And none are pushed harder than thee.”
“That she has,” Lance agreed. “Normally I welcome her driving force, but...” She hesitated, worrying at her lower lip. “The victories I have gained in recent days do not fill me with martial pride. Something is amiss with me, brother.”
I frowned at that, wondering what she could mean. “Amiss? Pray, explain. Surely thou didst not gain these triumphs through dishonest means.” My sister would die ere she won unfairly. A weakness some of her foes, like Shadow, did not share. I prayed that did not prove her undoing.
Lance hesitated, waving a hoof uncertainty in the air. “I am ... I have always shared the strength and endurance of our mother, but of late I am far stronger than I have e’er been. And in my battle with the lightning archmagus, didst thou not observe that I resisted his spells?”
In truth, if my sister were stronger than the norm I doubt I would have realized it. For as long as I could remember, Lance had been my strong, fearless older sister. Even once I had grown taller than her, I had ne’er doubted that she could handily defeat me e’en with her wings bound. That she could perform acts beyond the might of any other was simply ... expected. “Thou wouldst not be beaten by some pampered unicorn mage. Further, I had thought thine armor protected thee, and that the magus was holding back his full strength in hopes of taking thee alive, or else was tired from his earlier exertions.”
Lance sighed and shook her head. “Neigh, 'twas more than a few pieces of cold iron or my own martial skill. I ... when his spell struck I focused myself ‘pon resisting it with all my might. I turned the full of my will 'gainst his magics, and as I did so could feel the very fabric of it unravelling.”
That was ... unexpected. I tried to think of something equivalent to what Lance claimed. “I have heard such can be done from some of the loyal Kickers with experience in fighting warlocks. Thou dost recall how we learned to resist unicorn telekinesis? Perhaps ‘tis simply an extension of that.”
Lance frowned and shook her head. “There is a great difference ‘tween resisting a simple spell a mere filly could cast and standing ‘gainst archmagi wielding their chosen elements. When I saw Vizier Sparkle, I undid her spell ere it e'en reached me. That is a far cry removed from simply moving about to break a magical grasp.”
A far cry indeed. I could scarcely credit the tale, though my sister was no liar. “That does sound most unusual. I admit, I do not readily have an answer for how such a thing could occur.”
I felt a tremble pass through Lance’s body. “I can feel something within me changing. I cannot account for what that change might be, but my heart tells me ‘twill be like nothing I have e’er experienced.” She sighed and shook her head. “And now Mother dreams of seating me at the Ephorate as well? 'Tis more than I am ready to face.”
I placed a supportive hoof on her shoulder. “If thou art o’erwhelmed by thy troubles, let us address one thing at a time. If we contend with all the problems of the world at once, surely we shall be overwhelmed, but we can handle any one of them if we sit down and think.”
My sister took a deep breath to gather herself, and nodded. “Aye, 'tis so.”
E’en when panic nearly took her, Lance was quick to recover and show her strength of character. Small surprise I thought so highly of her. “Then let us begin with what Mother has planned for thee.” I let out a soft chuckle and shared a private smile with my sister. “We have much experience with satisfying Mother’s grand designs for her children, do we not? And surely a seat in the Ephorate cannot be worse than Mother’s hopes that I might court a mare who would kill me if she could do so freely.”
Lance responded by rolling her eyes. “If she despised thee so, ‘twas clearly no fault of Mother’s, but merely a result of thine own actions.” After her jest was delivered, however, she regarded me for a time, a faint smile on her face. “Still, there is merit in what thou dost say. When didst thou become so wise, little brother?”
“I have always been wise,” I answered with a confident grin. “‘Tis simply that nopony has been wise enough to properly appreciate my wisdom.”
That drew an amused snort from her. “Dawn was right, thou dost speak madness from thy swelled head.”
I placed a hoof o’er my grievously wounded heart. “Such cruel words from my darling sister. Surely I am an accursed sage, doomed to never be believed no matter how great the wisdom I share may be.”
“If ‘tis a curse, then ‘tis one thou dost bear quite well, my foolish brother.” Lance smiled and wrapped a wing ‘round me, pulling me closer.
“Such sympathy and affection,” I groused good-naturedly, before returning my attention to the matter at hoof. “As for thy potential promotion, Pegasopolis likely needs at least one, if not two more newly minted ephors to lead our armies.”
Lance considered the matter and reluctantly nodded. “Ephor Swift Blade is in no position to command a wing of the army whilst he is so far from the front, and Ephor Cyclone Kicker's post is one he was granted for reasons other than his ability to command an army in the field.”
“'Tis so.” My thoughts turned to my distant sire. “Though I am loathe to speak ‘gainst Ephor Striker, he is not a young stallion. And I am sure thou hast noticed how many burdens Commander Rightly has set 'pon his shoulders during this campaign.”
“Aye, war is not a task for an aging pony,” Lance reluctantly agreed. “There had been talk he might retire to the Gerousia ere the current crisis began. Were it not for the unfortunate events within his clanhold that cost him both his heirs...” Lance trailed off and slowly shook her head. “War has not come 'pon us in ideal circumstances.”
The matter of Steel’s losses was a painful one, and difficult for me as well. Though he was naught but my sire, there were times I had wondered if mayhaps I should offer some portion of my time to him. Though I do not know whether ‘twould help lessen his pain, or merely remind him of his loss. Rather than dwell on it, I turned my mind to the second half of Lance’s statement. “War rarely waits for when we would prefer it, based on all that I have read. Pegasopolis seemes lacking in ideal replacements for our best leaders.”
“So it seems.” Lance fell silent, one hoof idly toying with the cloud beneath us. “I am unsure that I am ready for the position Mother aspires to grant me.”
Personally, I thought that Lance did herself too little credit. However, it may be that I was inclined to think too highly of my sister. Regardless, I doubt she would be calmed by simple assurances. “Mayhaps thou couldst request a less demanding position instead? ‘Twas often said that there were captains of the hetairoi who were all but a sixth ephor in terms of power and influence. I see no reason thou couldst not ask that Commander Rightly assign more responsibility to thee to help prepare thee for some greater role in the future.”
Lance considered my words and nodded. “There is much merit to thy suggestion. ‘Twould allow me a chance to adjust to bearing greater responsibility without being thrust fully into a new post.”
“'Twould also relieve some of the burdens on the ephors,” I suggested. “War has made many demands of them, and I am sure they would welcome any aid thou couldst offer. I think that is a compromise thou couldst suggest that would satisfy Mother’s ambition without placing too many new responsibilities ‘pon thee. If need be, thou couldst also argue that such an increase in responsibility would be more readily accepted by the army and Rightly, and be a good stepping stone to being an ephor once the war is over. As she said, ‘tis unusual for one clan to hold two ephors.”
“Aye.” Lance brought a hoof up to ruffle my mane. “Truly, thy wisdom in this matter has surprised me. Perhaps we give thee too little credit.”
“I present thee with the solution to thy troubles, and all I am told is ‘perhaps’ I am wise?” I grinned and bumped her shoulder. “'Tis easy to say I deserve more credit when, alas, I am given no credit at all. I am afraid I am treated as but the younger, less talented brother which nopony expects to e’er meet the high standard set by his elder sister.”
“That is not so,” my sister answered. “Thou hast thine own merits, and in constantly comparing thyself to me thou dost thyself a disservice. Do not seek to emulate my merits to the point of ignoring thine.” She paused, and her voice turned light and mocking. “Though if thou wouldst be treated more seriously, perhaps thou couldst conduct thyself accordingly. The jester will always be seen as a fool.”
I gaped and slapped a hoof ‘gainst my cheek, as though I could scarcely comprehend such shocking words. “But sister! Didst thou not just say that I should embrace mine own merits? And how else could I show my gifts to all the fair mares of Pegasopolis and beyond?”
Lance answered me by rolling her eyes once more. “Egotist. Mind thy rear.” Despite the forewarning, I was unable to dodge when her wing lightly cuffed the back of my head.
Though the blow was not especially painful, I let out a cry as if she had all but split my skull open. “Ow!” I rubbed my poor, abused head. “Thou dost inflict such cruelties, dear sister. Careful, lest I grow resentful and plot a coup 'gainst thee.”
Lance turned to inspect my head, concern tingeing her voice. “Have I struck thee too hard? I have noticed that I am stronger than I once was, and there have been a few minor ... incidents.”
Her concern surprised me, and moreso the implication that her newfound strength had unsettled her so. “Neigh, neigh, 'tis fine. I merely jest with my beloved sister. 'Tis all.” That Lance believed her control over her own strength was so poor that she feared unintentionally wounding me with a simple cuff to the head was troubling. A warrior of Pegasopolis is expected to discipline both mind and body in order to have perfect control o’er both. A warrior of Lance’s quality would not find her control so badly lacking unless something were terribly wrong. “I believe we should address the matter of thy changes then, if thy concern if so great.”
Lance sighed and agreed with a reluctant nod. “Aye, that we should. ‘Tis most disconcerting to be so ill at ease with mine own body. Since the battle with Copper Spark, I have felt a stranger in mine own flesh. I do not care for it. And the things I have done when faced with hostile magic are ... most unsettling.”
Troubling words, but I had little idea of how the issue might be addressed. “Normally I think I would recommend perhaps seeing the magi, given that at least some of thy problems involve their magics. 'Tis also said that some of their individual collections contain more knowledge than all of that in Pegasopolis, though I am skeptical of that claim.” (3) I waved the matter aside. “Though we are rather busy slaying them all at the moment, so...”
3: In all likelihood, there was some truth to the claim. The previously mentioned problems involved with storing books in cloud-homes inevitably meant that Unicornia had access to far more written knowledge than Pegasopolis. Especially since the relative rarity of books in Pegasopolis meant that what books there were tended to be tightly focused on areas of broad interest to all pegasi: weather and military manuals, works of the great philosophers, and texts on all manner of non-pony creatures both intelligent and bestial.
Lance considered my words and tapped a hoof to her chin. “I shall ask Dawn and one of her new pet unicorns to make a thorough inspection, then. Mayhaps I should have words with one of our captured magi as well?”
“Thou didst capture Archmagus Copper Spark, and we hold Archmagus Ahfa Polaris as well.” Though the latter seemed to have been an archmagus more on account of her relation to the Duke of the same house than her skill with magic. “Though I would note that they are unlikely to be quite so eager to cooperate as the unicorn medics have proven.”
“No harm could come of asking for an opinion, at the least.” Lance shrugged. “The worst he could do is refuse me, and I will have lost nothing beyond the time needed to ask the question.”
“I trust thou wilt be appropriately wary of his advice,” I cautioned her. “'Twould surely be better than knowing nothing, but a pony who yet bears your battle wounds might be tempted to provide advice that would lead thee to harm.”
“Fear not, dear brother; I will not play the part of gullible fool.” Lance paused, then drew me into a sisterly embrace. “I thank thee for thine advice, Dusk.”
I answered her with an easy grin. “I have to serve some purpose in this war if thou wilt not allow me to share in any of the glory.” I gave her a teasing poke in the shoulder. “After the quality of the advice I have given thee, I daresay thou couldst spare me a target of some renown.”
I was much heartened by the genuine smile that now graced my sister’s lips. “If I find an opponent of worth who is equal to thy skills, I shall leave them to thee.” She paused and brought a thoughtful hoof to her chin. “Although I had given thought to the fact that if I am promoted the hetairoi will require a new...”
She trailed off, her ears perking at some unknown sound. A few moments later, I heard it too. “Something is happening back at camp. Shall we?”
My sister nodded, and the two of made for camp with all due haste. We arrived to find the camp in an uproar, though there was no obvious cause such as an attack by Celestia’s loyalists. A grim thought struck me, as I realized that Commander Rightly had not yet returned. ‘Twas hardly unusual for an army to be scattered for hours or e’en days after a major battle, so his absence had initially not been cause for great concern. However, given the current state of the camp...
Lance seemed to have guessed at my fears, for she immediately took flight for the Ephorate’s tent. ‘Twould be a blow to her reputation and Mother’s ambitions if my fears proved true. ‘Twas not proper for the captain of the hetairoi to have returned safely to camp unaware that her Commander’s body lay cooling on the ground.
We arrived at the tent to the sound of much shouting as dozens of ponies flooded it, each trying to make their concerns heard. My dread heightened when I noticed that a single unicorn wearing the livery of a messenger stood in the middle of the tent, while Commander Rightly was yet absent.
Mother looked over the chaotic scene with boiling fury and was not long in unleashing it. “Enough! Be silent, all of you!” When they did not immediately comply, Mother cast a glance to Steel, and the Striker ephor slammed his hooves down on the wooden table hard enough to crack the wood. That sufficed. Mother then turned to the messenger, her tone now carefully controlled. “Return to the Queen of Unicornia and inform her that we will consider her offer to exchange Commander Rightly for the prisoners she has requested.”
So that was it, then. He had indeed been taken. Lance’s face fell at the confirmation. ‘Twould seem my sister would not claim the title of ephor in the near future.
As the three remaining members of the Ephorate conferred with one another, the crowd began to disperse. Hopefully the news that our Commander would shortly be returned to us would prevent the matter from having too great an impact on the soldiers’ morale. Such captures and exchanges were part of the natural ebb and flow of warfare.
The departure of the crowd eventually allowed us to hear the last remark of the Ephorate, from Ephor Kicker. There was a grim resignation to his tone as he addressed Mother. “Bright, Steel, I apologize for my part in this affair. I shall make amends for it.” That said, he turned to the clanpony serving as his guide and was slowly led out of the tent.
I watched his departure, frowning after him. “Though the clash of arms decided little, ‘twould seem we have suffered our first defeat of the war, sister.”
“Aye,” she agreed. “But the war itself carries on.”
Guest Chapter: Manehatten Crisis I
The Manehatten Crisis: Part I
by guest writer Ponibius
Ephor Swift Blade is one of the more controversial ponies of the Lunar Rebellion. Historians have disagreed vehemently over the ephor’s role in the war, with opinions ranging from him being a manipulative warmonger, tribalist, and secret Lunar cultist to a staunch patriot of Pegasopolis and capable administrator. Soon after the war, Swift Blade was typically either vilified by loyalists or at the very least dismissed by the Lunars. His role as the ephor in charge of Pegaspolis’ logistics won him little love by the glory-driven pegasi. As the paterfamilias of a minor clan, likely he was only able to become an ephor by being extremely proficient at seeing to his nation’s various needs that did not relate to the battlefield. His role within the Ephorate and lack of combat prowess resulted in him being mocked as the worst warrior of Pegasopolis by his peers.
In many ways, he became a convenient scapegoat for many of the miseries of the war to historians and in popular memory. This was in no small part due to some of his actions during the war, and also to Sunbeam Sparkle’s efforts to make sure he was cast as a villain in the official histories penned afterwards. The reasons for Sunbeam’s own hostility to Swift will become readily apparent in Shadow’s own memoirs, and the fact he wasn’t one of the more prestigious and beloved battlefield commanders of the war resulted in him being the odd ephor out to the rebels.
There is also the fact that Swift Blade serving as a scapegoat for the various woes of the war helped with postwar reconciliation. It made it much easier for two formerly hostile groups to work together when they can blame a third party that neither of them liked for their past troubles.
It was only centuries later that Swift Blade was examined by revisionist historians. As historians sought other explanations for the cause of the war—such as economics, political trends, and the forces of history—Swift’s role was often lessened or even dismissed entirely. This also lead to many seeing the ephor as patriot of his cause, an invaluable administrator to Pegasopolis, and a visionary for his time.
The document I am about to present is often one cited by both supporters and opponents of Swift Blade. We are fortunate that the ephor’s journal managed to survive the war, and it provides an invaluable look into his thoughts and views on the events around him. For the purposes of this edition of Shadow’s memoirs, we will be drawing upon an excerpt from his journal involving the Manehatten Crisis.
After Pegasopolis had suppressed the loyalists in Manehatten, Provisional Chancellor Fair Deal formed the Free Earth Pony Provisional Government to fill an otherwise unstable power vacuum. The new government then sought to manage their part of the war effort and initiate their interpretation of Apple Tree’s platform of reforms he had envisioned before his assassination. This period of the earth pony government was plagued by administrative difficulties and loyalist resistance. While the Ephorate did much to stabilize the earth pony government, both by putting down rebellions against it and giving other assistance, there was still a great deal of instability as the government tried to regain a balance in the midst of a war.
As Pegasopolis’ main representative to the provisional government, it was Swift Blade’s job to work with the earth pony rebels and to ensure the Ephors’ interests were represented. This was widely c onsidered a punishment assignment by Acting Commander Rightly Doo due to Swift’s use of warlock aid in the defeat of Duke Polaris. While pegasi had a generally dismissive attitude to administration and non-combat and non-weather related duties, Swift’s job within the Pegasopolian hierarchy was still an objectively important one. Something readers will see as a few of his decisions had a significant impact on the Lunar Rebellion.
“The provisional government is bankrupt,” Tax Deed said.
The Minister of Finance’s statement caused me to stop and consider the implications. “Broke?” I had been called to Tax Deed’s office to discuss the supplies Pegasopolis needed to wage the war. It had started less than optimistically.
Tax Deed leaned against the back of his well-worn chair. Most of the furniture looked old and used, and there did not seem to be enough of it to properly furnish the room. I supposed the Minister had not had time to buy new furniture after his recent promotion. “I mean we are out of money. There are no more bits in the coffer; the budget has been stretched to the breaking point, we are in the red, the—”
I held up a hoof to forestall him. “I understood what thou meant. What I wish to know is why, and how that will affect the war.”
“Both of those questions are complicated.” Tax stood up and walked over to a nearby cabinet. Looking at the beige-coated pony, I could readily tell from his slim frame that he was unaccustomed to the hard farm work that was the daily toil of most of his kind. He also spoke with a calm, cultured tone common to the earth ponies of Manehatten rather than the twang more readily associated with his country kin. The black vest he wore only affirmed my impression of him as one of the bureaucrats central to the government of the earth ponies. Admittedly, I liked the sense of steady competence and professionalism he gave off. It reminded me a bit of myself, though I was a warrior of Pegasopolis and he a mere earth pony bureaucrat. “So if you will allow it, let us start with the why and then work to what that means for us.”
“Seems reasonable,” I said while Tax pulled out a couple of mugs and a bottle of apple cider. “I am curious how the earth ponies have found themselves in such a predicament. I was under the impression that your finances were sound.” I might not like the Sun Tyrant, but even I had to admit that she has been wise enough to ensure the earth ponies always had a balanced budget. From what I had read, it was always tempting for material-minded governments to borrow now and worry about the consequences later.
“To put it simply, we did not plan for a war such as the one we have found ourselves in.” He motioned with the bottle of cider, inquiring as to whether I wished to join him in imbibing. I nodded, and he started pouring.
“The war did catch us all unaware,” I allowed. If somepony a year ago had told me we would be fighting a war to remove Queen Celestia from her throne, I would have called them a fool. ‘Twould seem the course of history drags us in unexpected directions, and I had not considered just how little she cared about the pegasi as our Commander or how much she had come to favor the unicorns over the other breeds. Still, the war had offered Pegasopolis a number of opportunities which I planned to seize upon. “Though I am curious as to why the earth ponies do not have the bits for this war when they have been able to provide for other wars.”
Tax Deed finished pouring the drinks and placed a mug in front of me. “The war has disrupted our ability to collect taxes; ponies loyal to Queen Celestia have refused to pay taxes to what they see as an illegal government. Further, there are instances when Solar militias have either driven off tax collectors, seized the funds they gathered from law-abiding citizens, or killed the collectors outright.”
“I see.” That made sense, given that the earth ponies had been fighting one another since Apple Tree’s assassination. While most of the conflicts amounted to little more than skirmishes between bands of militia, the battles had been violent from the reports I had received. It had been a surprise to me and had made Pegasopolis’s intervention to end the bloodshed all the more important. Who knows how many earth ponies might have died in Manehatten alone if the Ephorate had not moved into the city? The city itself might have been burned down in the chaos.
Of course, the violence likely never would have happened in the first place if not for the Sun Tyrant’s neglect of Equestria as a whole. If not for that, then she likely would not have been seriously challenged in the election to start with. That had lead to Celestia—or at the very least, her supporters—cheating and turning the ballot boxes into a mockery. I could not say who had falsified the vote on her behalf, but it was largely irrelevant in either event. Even if she did not directly partake in cheating, she had likely encouraged her supporters in one manner or another to do so in order to let her maintain her power.
But the causes of the war mattered little at this point. There was a war to fight and win, and we needed the earth ponies’ money to fight it. “At least Commander Rightly’s campaign should help thee with tax collection,” I stated plainly. “From the reports I have read, most of the earth ponies still loyal to Celestia have been suppressed now that Duke Polaris’ army has been defeated, and moreso with the liberation of Fillydelphia. Not to mention that Commander Rightly has given me some units with which to deal with any flareups which might occur.” My own daughter, Skilled Blade, was patrolling the region around Manehatten to keep the peace.
In all honesty, there had been a few minor incidents since Rightly had moved on to Canterlot, but none had been overly serious as of late. No group of earth pony militia—a loosely used term, as they oft consisted of nothing more than farmers and shopkeepers—could hope to stand up against Pegasopolis’ warriors. Really, we had experienced more trouble with skirmishes flaring up again long after our soldiers had left an area, only to immediately die down upon word that we were coming to a settlement. It had been slightly irritating. Still, the problem manageable.
Tax took a sip from his mug. “We are of course thankful for your help to the provisional government. Shame that it only alleviates the problem, rather than solving it. Funding a war like this is very expensive. This is not like your little war with the gryphon reivers which was easy enough for us to manage with the resources we give you normally. This is a real, all-out war we are looking at.”
“You have managed in the past.” I sipped at my own mug and found the hard cider to be enjoyable, if significantly stronger than I was used to. Some years ago, the other ephors had agreed for me to take over the distillation of Pegasopolis’ alcoholic beverages—both so that the strength of the drinks could be made manageable and the amount each pegasus received kept them from indulging too strongly. Standardization and concentration of production also helped reduce the odd number of explosions that occasionally happened when pegasi operated their own distilleries.
Of course, Lyequinegus’ philosophies frowned upon drinking alcohol in general, considering it could lead to inebriation. Then again, Lyequinegus disapproved of many things such as putting spices on one’s food or having sex for anything but procreation. (1) Still, it was not that difficult an argument to my fellow ephors for me to control everypony’s alcohol rations in such a direct manner.
1. While Lyequinegus did warn of ‘excessively indulging in the pleasures of the flesh,’ it was rare in his actual laws to forbid such things. After all, the founder of Pegasopolis was a firm believer in self-discipline, not having the state lead a moral crusade. Many of the restrictions cited by Swift were later additions by Lyequinian philosophers.
Thus, I was not accustomed to the strength of the earth pony drink, and made sure to nurse my mug to prevent overindulgence. “The war to end the gryphon raiding of our northern frontier took thirty years, and this theater is of a similar scale.”
“And the conflict with the gryphons took nearly twice as long to pay off,” Tax said sternly, putting his mug down. “Which brings me to the biggest reason we are broke: unlike in previous wars, we cannot borrow money.”
That caused me to quirk an eyebrow. “And why not?”
The belabored administrator ran a hoof through his combed-back mane, sending a few dark green strands. “Because the two main sources we normally borrow money from are either unwilling or unable to loan us money. We would ordinarily ask Unicornia for a loan, either in the event of a war or some unforeseen disaster like a particularly bad harvest season. In truth, Unicornia possesses most of the hard cash in Equestria. Much wealth is created by their craftponies, businessponies, and merchants while most of the earth ponies’ wealth is tied up in land. While we do have our own merchants, they tend to favor bartering instead of using coin or credit.” He shrugged. “It is more sensible when most earth ponies are farmers by trade.”
“I do see where this would lead to a problem for us,” I conceded.
A smile crept into his features, but with a hint of sadness in it. “And oddly enough, Queen Celestia does not seem willing to give us a loan to remove her from her throne.”
I could not help but snort a little at the quip. “Aye, I will make sure to talk to her about her lack of generosity after she surrenders to Commander Rightly. Given she talks so much of it as a virtue, one would think she would know better.” I leaned back, the concerns of our discussion starting to weigh upon me again. “But in all seriousness, who else do the earth ponies borrow money from?”
The smile disappeared from his face as the levity was immediately crushed under the weight of duty. “We would also be borrowing from the banks at a time such as this. Unfortunately, due to recent changes in the laws, there are currently no operating banks amongst the earth ponies.”
“And why is that? The provisional government did not choose to close all the banks, did they?” While I knew logistics very well, I admit that some of the more complicated concepts involving money, borrowing, and finances escaped me. I could probably learn how all of it worked if I put the effort forward, but I had little need to as an ephor. My main duties were to determine what Pegasopolis needed to do its duties, not labor over the details on exactly how Unicornia and the earth ponies provided.
Tax Deed shook his head. “Neigh, ‘twas other factors that resulted in the closing of the banks. Namely, two of the decisions made by Provisional Chancellor Fair Deal and his supporters.” He took a quick drink of his cider before continuing. “First, the Chancellor passed a law that forgave all debt amongst the earth ponies.”
Realization dawned upon me. “Ah, I see. When that law was passed, many ponies would have lost a great deal of money. Especially the banks.” My agents in Manehatten had told me that the Provisional Chancellor was a self-described champion of his fellow earth ponies, even if he was of magnate stock, and had been a staunch supporter of Apple Tree during his meteoric rise. Many earth ponies had been hopelessly in debt, either to the banks or their local magnates. ‘Twas not hard to imagine that Fair Deal had been made the Provisional Chancellor by promising to forgive everypony’s debt. Shame that had consequences for continuing the war.
“Indeed.” Tax nodded. “That resulted in the closure of several banks due to their newfound inability to collect the funds needed to continue operating.”
I sipped from my drink, thinking the problem over. “And the second reason for why there are no more banks?”
Tax rubbed his eyes, and I could feel the weariness resonating from him. “The final straw came when the provisional government decided to—against my sincerest recommendations—seize all the cash belonging to the accounts of the magnates or ponies of wealth.”
He let out a harsh chuckle, and I found myself feeling sympathy for the beleaguered bureaucrat. From his tone, I guessed that he had argued fiercely with his superiors. “Even before the bill passed beyond the committee, there was a run on the banks. It was a complete panic. Everypony thought they were going to lose their savings, not just the rich. By the time the ink dried on the law there wasn’t a single bank still open.” He tipped his mug back and emptied its contents. “And now there is nopony from whom we can easily borrow the money we need for this war. Hay, we will be lucky to keep the government’s doors open at this rate.”
“Troubling.” I rubbed my chin. “How will this affect the earth pony government’s ability to support Pegasopolis against the Sun Tyrant? I shall be honest with thee, Tax Deed. Acting Commander Rightly Doo stationed me in Manehatten to make sure his army will receive the steady stream of supplies and support it needs to conduct a siege of Canterlot, and it sounds as though the earth ponies will not be able to do their duty for Equestria.”
In truth, Rightly had effectively exiled me to Manehatten—unjustly, in my opinion—for accepting the help of warlocks. Warlocks, I might add, whose aid allowed us to achieve a decisive victory over the Solars. In truth, Rightly’s punishment was a slap on the hoof. Likely I would have been stationed or requested to go to the city to perform the very task to which I now dedicated my efforts. The problem was that I had been publicly humiliated by Rightly; even if I would not be on the front most of the time in order to manage the army’s logistics, I had been completely denied any of the glory of battle as would normally be my right as an rphor. I should have been with the army on its final march on Canterlot and for the siege itself, but ‘twas not to be so. Still, Tax Deed did not need to know any of any of the internal conflicts amongst the Ephorate or my own woes. Pegasopolis must maintain the appearance of unity and strength.
Tax spread his forelegs in a neutral shrug. “My word on it, I do not like being the bearer of foul tidings, but the facts are what they are. Without any money, we cannot purchase the food and other supplies you need no matter how much they might be needed.”
That made the blood in my veins run cold. “Thou art telling me we have no supplies beyond what we already possess?”
He spoke with a firm finality. “Aye, though it brings me no pleasure to say so.” He leaned forward against his desk to look at me seriously. “Did the army bring enough supplies with it to finish the siege?”
“That depends.” I drank from my mug, reviewing the hard numbers of the supplies Rightly had in his baggage train before he left Manehatten. “The army brought enough food and other necessities to last about a month and a half. The war might be over quickly, but if the siege drags on...”
“Could it?” Tax asked, and I detected a mixture of hope and worry in his tone.
“Possibly; nothing is certain in war. There are very good reasons why Commander Rightly ensured the security of his supply line rather than dash straight to Canterlot.” I put the mug down after realizing it was empty. Had my discipline wavered so? I would just have to hope that a single mug of the hard cider would not debilitate my ability to think. “It does not matter either way. I will see to it that Pegasopolis receives the supplies it needs one way or another, Minister.”
“Then I am afraid there is not much I can do.” He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his head. “I can only work with the cash I have available, which is not enough to keep your army supplied. I have considered some ways we might be able to draw additional funds, but I do not have the authority to change policy without the Chancellor’s permission. And in truth, I do not have much influence with the Provisional Chancellor.” He let out a tired grunt. “Truthfully, I think the only reason they even made me the Minister of Finances was because nopony in Fair Deal’s inner circle had much clue how to do this job. A small surprise, given what they did with our finances.” (2)
2. It should be noted that according to the records, a little less than half Provisional Chancellor Fair Deal’s cabinet was even literate. Due to Apple Tree’s campaign being built off a populist movement, many of his most popular and influential supports were drawn from the less affluent (and by extension, less literate) members of earth pony society.
“Then my course is clear.” I stood up from my chair. “I will simply have to take this directly to the Provisional Chancellor himself.”
The minister frowned with consternation. “Right now? But he is in a meeting, and probably will be further engaged for the rest of the day.”
“He will see me,” I assured Tax. Waving for him to stand, I opened his office door. “Come; likely thou shalt have something important to say for this discussion too.” It struck me as prudent to bring along the pony responsible for the coffers with me to discuss a financial matter. Likely I would require the presence of at least one earth pony who seemed to know their job. Competence can often be a preciously rare thing.
He stood, glancing about as though unsure of himself. “If you insist...”
I nudged him along. “I do. For as thou wilt see, Minister, I shall not take no for an answer.”
“So what is your plan, Father?” my son asked of me. Quick Blade was a small stallion, shorter and slimmer than myself, even though I was far from a robust stallion. It always made him seem small in his blue armor no matter how it was fitted for him. At least his light-blue coat and purple mane complimented the colors of the Blade Clan; his messy tumble of a mane did little to bring him any dignity, even by the standards of the wind-swept manes most pegasi suffered as a result of flight.
“I am hoping that I can talk some sense into the Chancellor.” I continued along the hallways of the Chancellor’s Mansion. It was a beehive of activity as important-looking ponies and secretaries rushed about their business. The war had seemed to do little to change the feeling of the manor. Politics marched on, no matter the circumstances. At least most of the ponies in the hallways made way for us as we walked. The berth granted to us was likely helped in that in addition to myself, my son, and the minister of finances, two of my clan’s bondponies also accompanied me. Four heavily armed and armored ponies had a certain effect on our groundbound cousins. “If we are fortunate, then he will see reason and do what needs to be done to support our armies to win this war.”
Quick gave me that impenetrable look through half-lidded eyes which I knew hid a sharp mind. “If you say so.”
“Thou hast thy doubts, Quick?” I had known my adopted son long enough to know when something was troubling him. “What is on thy mind? Hast thou discovered something about the Chancellor?” In addition to his duties of helping me organize the supplies coming out of Manehatten, I had tasked him with gathering information in the city and beyond. He had shown more than a little talent at such things, and it was best to know what everypony was up to, especially one’s allies.
“I have.” He took a moment to consider his words. “I shall try to stick with the facts, but Fair Deal does not strike me as the type to be easily swayed from his course.”
Tax Deed nodded in agreement. “That has been my impression also. Getting in his way on an issue makes you feel like you have found yourself in front of a stampede.”
“Good to know.” I weaved around a couple of secretaries who seemed more concerned with their own conversation rather than how they were blocking the hallway for ponies trying to walk through it. “Please, go on. I desire details.”
My son continued in the slow and deliberate speech that was his manner, especially when giving a report. “He was born to a family of magnates near Fillydelphia, and was sent to school in the city to become a lawyer. At some point he gained an interest in politics—namely with furthering the cause of the common earth pony, as he would probably put it.” Quick rounded his way around a couple bureaucrats before resuming. “He ended up affiliating with several more radical politicians, and he was subsequently disowned by his family and denied any inheritance when his parents passed away. Since then, he has gained fame for taking on a number of court cases which were intended to help poorer ponies, and with his repuation as a stallion who foguht for the common pony, attained office a few times.” My son paused to think for a moment. “He supported Apple Tree during the election, and after the assassination he was chosen by Apple Tree’s followers to become the Provisional Chancellor.”
I mulled over that for a few seconds as we approached the Chancellor’s office and stopped short of the doors and turned to face Quick and Tax. “I believe I am forming a picture of the stallion. What canst thou tell me of his policies?”
“As you have likely already guessed, Father, he is working to pass several laws that he believes will help the common earth pony.” Quick bumped into a secretary, and never being a stallion of particularly firm hoofing, stumbled and nearly fell before regaining his balance. “Besides the financial policies you are already familiar with, he has also sought to reorganize the bureaucracy, set spending limits for political campaigns, and has sought to remove the rights of the magnates.”
I tapped my hoof as I mentally catalogued the Chancellor. At least some of that sounded like a worthy cause, though I had to wonder how those measures were implemented. “Is this so, Tax?”
Tax nodded. “It is, though it has caused no small trouble for me and my colleagues.” He glanced about at the other ponies gathered in the hallway before leaning in to speak softly to us. “Between so many ponies resigning for one reason or another, others being fired over incompetence or politics, and reshuffling between the departments, we have been hard-pressed to keep the government running.”
“Aye, I am aware of some of the problems.” The late unpleasantness had caused chaos in the earth pony capital, with many of Queen Celestia’s supporters fleeing to places such as Fillydelphia. “I hope the assistance of some of my fellow clanponies has helped to fill the gaps within thy bureacracy?” I took some pride in the ponies of my clan being able to do so. Determining that my clan would benefit from becoming literate, I had made no small efforts to teach many of my ponies how to read and write—especially the young, whose minds are ever so ready to learn new things. After the chaos following Apple Tree’s death, the earth pony government had been in short supply of capable ponies to run it. My efforts with my clan had put the Blades in a situation where they could help plug the gap, which was doubly fortunate now that my son had agents at all levels of the earth pony government feeding us information.
It was worth considering that at least some of my kin were unhappy shuffling papers instead of being out at the front, but we all had our own duties to bear in war.
“Your pegasi have been most helpful.” Tax sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Even if training them to do the jobs is a task in and of itself.”
Quick stepped to the side to allow a pony past him. “It is worth mentioning that the Chancellor has made enemies of many of the magnates with his policies.”
I looked to Tax Deed. “Could that cause us problems?”
Tax rubbed his chin. “Depends on if we ever plan on asking the magnates for any favors. Which ... is likely, at some point. The magnates do much in their towns, and have a lot of influence with the ponies around them. Having them oppose the new government is going to cost us sooner or later.”
“I may need to bring the topic up with Fair Deal while we are at it.” I admit that I had little love for those that focused their lives on gaining as much wealth as they could, but the middle of a war was the not time to create more enemies than one had to. “But enough delay. Let us meet with him and see what can be done over this crisis involving the budget.”
I stepped up to the door and was stopped when the secretary sitting by the door harshly cleared her throat. “I am sorry, milord,” the mare apologized with all the sincerity of a gryphon reiver descending ‘pon a helpless village. “But the Chancellor is in a meeting with his cabinet right now.”
“And how long will the meeting last?” I asked.
The secretary went through the motions of looking at a sheet of paper which likely contained the Provisional Chancellor’s schedule. “He will be in meetings for the rest of the day. Would you like for me to make a note that you wished to speak with him...?”
“Ephor Swift Blade.” I gave her a toothy grin. “And I do not believe I will be waiting. I have important business with Chancellor Fair Deal.” I was not going to let some uppity bureaucrat stand in the way of serving my nation.
“That is what everypony says.” She tapped the schedule with a pen. “Now, when would be a—”
I ignored her and opened the door, nodding to one of my bondponies. He promptly took position to block the irritating secretary, silencing her with a stern look. Staying out of the way was probably the wisest thing she could do at that moment.
Looking past the doorway, I saw that the room was dominated by a large oak table in the center. Around it were ponies wearing vests similar to the one worn by Tax Deed. They all looked to me and the sudden interruption. I imagined it was rather difficult to ignore a small hoofful of Pegasopolian soldiers suddenly barging into the room.
Before the earth ponies could gather their wits, I spoke in a loud and authoritative voice born from decades of experience at ordering ponies about. “I need to speak with Chancellor Fair Deal.” I gave everypony there a look that told them that I would not tolerate dissent. “Immediately.”
While the rest of the ponies in the room looked about in confusion, unsure what to do, the earth pony on the far side of the table from me stood up and placed his forehooves on the table. At a glance I could tell that the stallion was a pony of authority and one used to having his way. “Everypony, I believe we can pick this matter back up tomorrow. Looking at the ephor, I think he has something important to discuss with me.”
The cabinet looked between the two of us and silently agreed as a unit to stand up and shuffle out of the meeting room. The time it took for everypony to leave gave me an opportunity to take a measure of Provisional Chancellor Fair Deal. I had even met with him a few times, though never for long. I had an ever-increasing number of things that needed to be done, and no doubt Fair Deal had his own troubles forming a new government in the midst of a war.
Fair Deal was a large and imposing stallion in the later part of his middle years, with hard features and the aura of a pony who demanded attention. His dark brown coat and orange and red mane reminded me of the colors of autumn. As seemed to be the case with earth ponies, the more clothing one wore, the more important the pony. His light-gray suit prevented me from seeing his cutie mark. The suit seemed to be of fine quality, though it had been well worn by this point.
After all the other earth ponies had shuffled out, my bondponies closed the door to leave myself, Quick, Tax Deed, and the Chancellor alone. Fair Deal clapped his forehooves together absentmindedly. “So... What is so important that you felt the need to interrupt my meeting with my cabinet?”
“The fact that your government is having trouble supplying Pegasopolis’ army,” I stated, getting right to the point of the matter. “I have been told that your coffers are empty and there are no funds to pay for Commander Rightly’s campaign.”
“Ah, that.” The Chancellor sounded almost bored by the topic. “Do you not already have enough food to feed your ponies from what we usually give you every year?”
“Neigh.” I walked around the table to take a seat near the Chancellor while my son and Tax took their own positions on the other side of Fair Deal. “The regular shipments were disrupted by the war, and ponies need more food while on the march than in times of peace. What we received before the war is wholly insufficient for our current needs.”
Fair Deal sat at the head of the table and narrowed his eyes. “I was under the impression that Rightly took all the supplies he needed to lay siege to Canterlot.”
“Only for a short period of time,” I was quick to correct. “His siege train has enough supplies to get him to the city and begin a siege, but he will need more to see his army to victory should this become a war of attrition. That is why he took such efforts to make sure his supply lines were secure before striking for Canterlot. My Commander is in great need of food, medical supplies, tools for siegecraft, and a host of other things necessary for a successful siege.”
Fair Deal scoffed. “I hardly think the war will last much longer. Your commander has already routed the unicorns’ army, Solar resistance in earth pony territory has been crushed, and I do not think Canterlot will prove much more difficult. ‘Tis likely he already has, or soon will take the city, ending this whole unpleasant business.”
I took a moment to consider my words before speaking. He was right that we had been successful in defeating the Solars in nearly every battle fought thus far, but I could not allow him to use that fact to keep me from doing my duty. “‘Tis best not to be o’erly optimistic where war is concerned, Chancellor. Any number of things can go wrong, and so the wisest course is to prepare for the worst as best as one is able. With enough supplies to last through the summer, we can be reasonably certain of our ability to conquer Canterlot—and thus, win this war.”
“So what do you propose, ephor?” The Chancellor’s ear made an annoyed twitch. “Shall I drive my government deep into debt for supplies that might not even be needed?”
“I think some debt for a worthy cause is more than worth the cost.” One would think that would be obvious to any fool, but ‘twould seem I was not dealing with just any fool. Still, I kept tight control of the choler I felt building.
“Easy to say when you will not bear the burden of repayment. ‘Twill be the common earth pony who will have to labor for years to pay off that debt.” Fair Deal turned to Tax Deed with a disapproving glare. ‘Twas possible he was not pleased with his Finance Minister for creating a situation where one of his meetings had been disrupted. “Is there even a way to pay for the supplies Ephor Swift Blade is requesting?”
“I think so,” Tax Deed said, scratching nervously at his neck. “Considering we cannot ask the banks for loans, one option is to sell war bonds—though to generate the funds we need, we would likely have to sell many of the bonds to the magnates.” I sensed more than a hint of reluctance when Tax got to the last word of his statement. His hesitation became clear as the Chancellor fixed his Finance Minister with a withering glare, but Tax yet continued forward after swallowing. “Then mayhaps we can also accept goods in return for debt from the magnates. We could also offer tax relief to all those that give us the supplies we require.”
Fair Deal slowly stood up from his seat to look down at his Finance Minister. “So what thou art saying, Tax, is that I should go to the magnates and grovel to them?”
Tax Deed spoke slowly and carefully, as though worried that taking the wrong tone with his Chancellor could provoke him. “What I am recommending, Chancellor, is trying to cooperate with the magnates, at least the ones friendly to your government. By modifying some of your policies you could—”
“Neigh!” Fair Deal spat, silencing Tax. “I will not grovel for the magnates. Not when we finally have them on the run after so long.” He stepped over to a window that overlooked Manehatten. “I have spent my entire life fighting for the common pony. Ponies who have been toiling and suffering under their magnates for generations, losing half their crops every year to ponies who never knew a day’s hard work in their life. Always having to work for another pony instead of being allowed to reap their own harvest, on their own land.”
From what I had heard and seen of the earth ponies with my own eyes, the Chancellor was somewhat exaggerating. Though now that he had built momentum, he continued to speak, uncaring if anypony else wanted to say anything. “Now, when we finally have the advantage over them, you are asking me to throw it all away so that I can buy Rightly a few more wagons of supplies? Supplies for which earth ponies have toiled long and hard to make and shall never see the profit?” He slammed a hoof on the ground. “Neigh, I say. I am not backing up, not one step, ever .”
I sat there momentarily dumbstruck by the implications of Fair Deal’s words. From the sound of it, he held more hatred for the magnates than he ever could for the Sun Tyrant—and indeed, I wondered if the magnates were his true enemies rather than the enemy against whom we were waging war. For his part, Quick sat silently, and I could see him analysing the situation. I made a mental note to ask for his thoughts once this unpleasant matter was finished.
Before I could form a response for the Chancellor’s brand of madness, Tax Deed spoke. “What more do you plan on doing? A great many of the magnates are furious with you after all the money you have cost them. Would not a little compromise be better to keep harmony amongst us?”
“Once again, I say neigh.” Fair Deal turned back to us. “I plan on breaking the magnates once and for all while giving everypony what should have been theirs to start with. ‘Tis long past time we redistributed the land to give everypony an equal share. No more ponies owning more land than they can reap themselves; just a country of farmers all owning their own plot of land and benefiting from what they can harvest. As it should be.”
“Sir!” Tax struggled a moment as he stumbled to turn thoughts into words. “That would cause the magnates to revolt! And their supporters, all of whom would make ready bedfellows for the Solars. The whole land would be lit aflame once again after things have only just died down.”
Fair Deal spoke dismissively, making a slashing motion with his hoof. “If they revolt, then our militia and Pegasopolis will put them down. ‘Tis a fair price for equality ‘mongst the earth ponies.”
I could scarcely believe my ears. Nevermind his dereliction of duty to Pegasopolis as Equestria’s great confederacy demanded, he was willing to drag the pegasi into a civil war of his own design before we had even finished with the greater struggle against Celestia.
I took a moment to calm myself, grinding a hoof into the floor and counting to ten before I spoke in the calmest voice I could muster. “Chancellor, I can say with certainty that Commander Rightly will not support you in a civil war ‘mongst the earth ponies. Not when ‘tis so foolishly provoked while we are still at war with the Sun Tyrant. If you feel there is need for reform ‘mongst your breed, then it can wait until after Celestia has been defeated.”
“Or what, Ephor?” Fair Deal stepped over to me, trying to intimidate me with his bulk in close proximity. “You will let the magnates and Solars eat me alive? How willing do you think they will be to give you anything to fight Celestia? You may not be happy with the supplies I have given you, but ‘tis far more than you will get from those that would depose me.”
I sat there silently, conflicted with how exactly to deal with this mad earth pony who had somehow come to rule over his kin. Some part of me desired to challenge him to juris ungula and end this madness, but I had to pull back from that option. I could not do something so extreme without express permission from the Commander, even if the delay was costly. Rightly had sent me into exile for working with warlocks to win him a battle. I could not imagine he would be pleased with me slaying the Provisional Chancellor.
Fair Deal took my silence as a sign of compliance and stepped away from me, though still close enough to still be imposing. “I see you understand.” He waved dismissively in Tax’s direction. “My Minister of Finances may do what he can with the budget he has available to assist your commander, Ephor, but I will not drive my nation into debt nor kowtow to the whims of the magnates when we are so close to gaining freedom and happiness from our own little tyrants.”
He started towards the meeting room doors. “Now if you do not mind, I have more important meetings and business to attend to. If you have something of worth to bring to me, please go through my secretary first next time. I am a very busy stallion and cannot be bothered with unscheduled interruptions.”
He left the meeting room without another word, and I suddenly knew why so many ponies had felt as though they had been trampled after meeting him. I was nearly startled when Quick placed a hoof on my shoulder, leaning close to speak softly to me. “What are we to do next, Father?”
I sat there, staring at the ajar doors as Fair Deal made his way through the hallway. “First, send a letter to Commander Rightly informing him about this situation. After that ... I need some time to think.”
I watched as my youngest returned from her patrol. The platoon of soldiers with her landed on the sky fortress we had built over Manehatten. The fortress was intended to be Pegasopolis’ main base for the region around the city. ‘Twas not a particularly impressive structure, being only large enough to house a small battalion of our warriors, but it was sufficient for its purpose.
My daughter, Skilled Blade, shot towards me as a light-pink blur, only to make a sudden quick barrel roll to bring herself to a stop in front of me. She fixed me with a fierce grin, no doubt amused by her own stunt. Admittedly, my younger daughter was a skilled flier, and I saw little reason to chastise her for her aerial acrobatics. “Father.” She removed her helmet to reveal the short bright red locks of her mane. “I trust you are well?”
“Well enough, all things considered.” In truth, I was in poor spirits due to the supply problem before me. It would not do to show it in front of the common soldier, though; an ephor looking disheartened could easily crush the morale of everypony who saw him, and the collapse in morale could spread like a plague. As such, I made sure to appear calm and confident for everypony.
I leaned in to give Skilled a quick nuzzle, but I showed no more affection than that as I did not wish to embarrass her before her soldiers. Too much, in any event. “There are some important matters I wished to discuss with thee. Are thy warriors capable of attending to themselves while we talk?”
“One moment, I pray.” She turned to her platoon and issued orders to her sergeants to see to the needs of their ponies in the forms of food and rest. They immediately complied, and Skilled turned back to me. “Now, what was it you wished to talk to me about?”
I motioned with my head for her to follow me and I led us to the side of the cloud-fortress where we would not be easily overheard. “How fares our cause around Manehatten and on the road to Canterlot?”
Skilled took a moment to consider my question. “‘Tis going well, or at least we lose no ground. Most of the fighting has only consisted of small skirmishes. Any of the Solar militia that have stood ‘gainst us were swiftly routed. The real problem is how the traitors will often disperse when we approach their towns, only to reform and fight Lunar militias after we have left.”
I frowned as I looked out at the great expanse of land before me. There were hundreds of earth pony communities out there, and we only had so many warriors to cover it all. “So there is no end in sight to the fighting between our allies and those earth ponies still loyal to Celestia?”
“Neigh.” She let out a low rumble of a sigh, her normally bright mood darkening. “It has been most frustrating. The earth ponies seem content to bloody each other, no matter how futile or pointless it might be. We cannot be everywhere to completely stop the violence as Commander Rightly ordered.”
“‘Tis as I feared then.” I had hoped that the small battles being fought between the bands of militia would slowly whittle down after Rightly had crushed so many of the Solar forces and Duke Polaris’ army. True, the fighting was not nearly as bad as when the war first started, but neither had it altogether ceased. “Hast thou news about Froggy Bottom Bog?”
My daughter huffed as she kicked at a small mound of clouds. “I am afraid that the magus of the bog and his earth pony followers continue to harass our supply lines and inflict a toll ‘pon our allies. We lost at least one of our supply caravans to their raids.” (3)
3. The folk legend, Magus Mossy Bank , had been assigned by Sunbeam Sparkle to guard his home of Froggy Bottom Bog against the Lunars and to harass their forces and supply lines. A number of Loyalists had even fled to the bog when Rightly was securing the area before moving onto Canterlot itself. By the time the Lunars were attacking Canterlot, Mossy Banks had a significant force at his disposal.
It did not sit well with me that we had lost some of the precious supplies that had been gathered and sent to Rightly before the provisional government had come to utter poverty. “Was not the commander supposed to send some of the Long Patrol to deal with the bog magus?”
Skilled frowned. “He did send a platoon of the Long Patrol into the bog, but ... they were driven back out with heavy casualties. I have heard rumors that no more than half of the platoon survived to tell tales of earth pony ambushes, animal attacks, pegasi disappearing without a trace, and the very bog striking them down.”
I had to wonder what type of magics he might have been using to ward off the Long Patrol. In my readings, there had been tales of magi who had used unique and exotic forms of magic to use the land ‘gainst their enemies. Mayhaps the magus had used such a magic, or perhaps the Long Patrol had merely suffered from misfortune. ‘Twould not be the first time an expedition had been sent with a reasonable expectation for success only to fail miserably.
I waved the matter off. “We will let the Commander deal with the matter. He has more of the Long Patrol at his disposal, and what we have is stretched as is.”
“If that is your will,” Skilled said. “Though I do not like the idea of us doing nothing while our supply wagons are burned and the Long Patrol’s honor is insulted by some magus and his earth ponies lurking about in the bog.”
I placed a reassuring hoof on her shoulder and prompted her towards the fortress’ mess hall. “One of the things a leader must learn is the limits of what they can reasonably do, daughter. There is never enough to allow one to do everything one would wish to do—and thus, we prioritize.”
My daughter rolled her eyes, having heard this lesson more than once from me. “Aye, I know that.” Her wings twitched with irritation. “I just wish to test my mettle ‘gainst more than farmers and craftponies ere the war is over. This will likely be the greatest war of my time, and I will be missing out on its greatest battles.”
Ah. ‘Twas easy enough to see that my daughter was like most young warriors and desired to show that she was a great warrior worthy of renown. Her feelings were probably not helped by the fact that her older sister, Elegant Blade, was amongst Rightly’s hetairoi , and thus was fighting in what would likely be the most critical battles of the war. Rightly also liked to use his personal guard at the decisive moment of a battle, and thus give his hetairoi the opportunity for glory as they had against Duke Polaris.
All of that considered, I felt the need to reassure my youngest. I did not wish for her to feel jealous, or that what she was doing was not important. “We have our duties. We may not always like them, but Pegasopolis depends upon us doing what we are ordered to.”
“I know what my duties are,” Skilled quickly replied. “And I will do what the Commander wants of me. ‘Tis merely that—”
She was cut off when a pony landed before us. He wore no armour, and a quick look at his legband, bearing the symbol of a scroll over three lightning bolts, marked him as a courier. He was breathing heavily and likely had been flying for quite some time before arriving in Manehatten. Couriers were picked from amongst the fastest long-distance fliers in Pegasopolis, as ‘twas often seen as a good way to test young warriors with a bit of responsibility and season them a bit before they saw battle.
He gave me a quick salute. “Private Sky Charger, I have a scroll for Ephor Swift Blade.” He promptly produced a scroll for me.
I saluted back. “Private, I am Ephor Swift Blade.” Taking the scroll from him, I then waved toward the dining hall. “If thou hast no other immediate other duties, get thyself some refreshments and rest.” The stallion looked to be near the end of his endurance and in no condition to be assigned any more missions for the day. It would not do to run one of our valuable couriers into the ground.
“Aye, thank you, m’lord.” Taking that as his cue, he departed towards the mess hall.
“What does it say?” Skilled asked as I looked at the scroll. While my daughter was good at making snap decisions, she had never been good at waiting.
“Patience, I have not even broken the seal.” The scroll was sealed by red wax, and carried the sigil of the Commander of Pegasopolis. A red seal meant that the scroll contained something serious within and was to be read immediately. The only seal color that signaled something more dire was a black one, and that meant some threat equal to or greater than Celestia had manifested. These days, a black seal would most likely mean Celestia had made herself known on the battlefield.
I broke the seal, and to my surprise, instead of Rightly’s neat and flowing writing, I saw the barely legible chickenscratch of Bright Charger. (4)
4. Having read some of Ephor Bright Charger’s writing for this edition of Shadow’s memoirs, I can verify that Bright’s writing is horrendous.
Perplexed, I carefully read over the letter.
Ephor Swift Blade,
The army has encountered the Solar army in the Avalon Vale. Battle indecisive. Acting Commander Rightly Doo has been captured. Ephor Cyclone Kicker is dead. With Ephor Steel Striker’s consent, I, Bright Charger, am now Acting Commander.
My eyes widened. What sort of disaster had struck? Rightly should have routed the Solar army if they had been foolish enough to leave their walls. Had there been some sort of skirmish and some great misfortune had struck the army, resulting in one of our leaders being captured and a second slain? Another possibility was that the traitor Shadow Kicker had lead a raid against Pegasopolis’ generals in the hopes of removing our most capable battle commanders.
Curse Shadow Kicker and my own poor martial skills if that was the case. If I had been a great warrior like my mother had been, then none of this would have happened. I could have dueled Shadow when she challenged me to juris ungula , slain her, and prevented her from taking the bulk of her clan from Cloudsdale. Shame it was my curse to be infamous as the worst warrior in Pegasopolis. Especially when above all else, we pegasi valued martial prowess.
I fought down the broiling emotions welling within me to keep reading the letter.
S iege train almost completely destroyed.
My heart sank at that one line. That was one of the last things I wanted to read. I had hoped that the army would have sufficient supplies to finish the siege, that the Sun Tyrant would surrender upon realizing that she had no chance for victory. At the very least, I thought I had time to correct the problems I had in Manehatten. Either to come up with a solution on my own, convince Fair Deal of his foolishness, or wait for some development that would give me an opportunity I did not possess at this moment. Now there was no time. The army needed supplies that I could not give them.
We are foraging for what supplies we need so that we can restart our march on Canterlot. I am ordering you to do whatever is necessary to build a new siege train so that we can successfully reduce the city. Recruit any earth pony miners you can to assist our army. This is all to be done without any delay. We now expect a prolonged siege.
Signed,
Acting Commander Bright Charger
“Father?” Skilled gave my shoulder a shake. “Is everything well?”
I gave myself a mental slap. This was not the time to lose my composure, not where others could see me. I passed the letter over to Skilled, buying me time to think. Closing my eyes, I turned to thinking about what was to be done.
Bright would probably be able to forage at least some of the supplies she needed, and around Canterlot most of the earth ponies supported Celestia. Chancellor Fair Deal would be unhappy with us for seizing what we needed to wage war. In any event, ‘twas unlikely Bright would be able to forage everything she needed for a siege that could last for months—not unless she spent a great deal of time foraging a large area. Something I doubted Bright would have patience for, especially with her brother-in-law in captivity. She had always taken the protection of her family seriously.
What our army really needed was for me to provide them a steady stream of supplies. The problem lay with Fair Deal and his unwillingness to fulfill his duty of properly supplying Pegasopolis with what it needed. He, and likely many of the others on his cabinet. As long as they were in charge, it was going to be nearly impossible for me to do my duty. A duty that Pegasopolis needed me to do. If Canterlot did not fall, then this war could drag out for years, weakening all of Equestria against its enemies. Griffonia always threatened our borders, the Zebrican Empire marched closer to our borders with every year, and greater evils were waiting for a sign of weakness from Equestria. We could not afford to look weak. Not once, not ever.
I would not fail in my duty.
Skilled lowered the letter, and she looked at me with worried eyes. “Father, what are we to do?”
I gave my daughter a determined look, letting no weakness show in my demeanor. “‘Tis simple, Skilled. We are to launch a coup ‘gainst Chancellor Fair Deal.”
I made my way to the palace dungeons as soon as I could spare the time. Tending my duties alongside Sunbeam, Crossguard, and the other officers of Commander Celestia’s armies had naturally required my attention. Whate’er my private desires, I could not see to such personal indulgences until all my duties had been attended. However, all through the meeting as we discussed our losses in the battle and how next to deploy our forces, a part of my mind was occupied with thoughts of Rightly Doo.
E’er since the news of his capture had come, I knew that I would have to go to him. I did not know what I might say, but I could not simply ignore his presence. Too much had passed ‘tween us, and too much more had been left unsaid.
I made my way to the palace dungeons. I had given thought to arranging something more suitable for him, but ‘twas not likely to be needed. There was already talk of returning him to the rebels in exchange for some of the captured archmagi, and I expected the rebels to accept the offer. There was little to be gained in holding him: I did not judge it likely we could win him to our cause or persuade him to betray any secrets, and the rebels still maintained a functioning chain of command. His only use as a prisoner would be if we resorted to acts of foulness and dishonored ourselves. Regaining our archmagi was a far better choice.
However, on this day I did not go to Rightly for reasons relating the war, save perhaps by the most indirect of interpretations. My desires of him were entirely personal.
The Commander’s dungeon is pleasant and carefully maintained, inasmuch as a dungeon may be so. The cells for high-value prisoners were fully enclosed, offering their occupants a measure of privacy, and included simple but functional accommodations. ‘Tis often said that how one treats one’s prisoners says much of a pony, and Commander Celestia offered them what dignity and comfort she could within the bounds of her position. Having seen other prisons, I can say that a measure of privacy, a clean cell, and fresh straw in one’s mattress is no small thing.
I strode in, sparing a glance for the royal guards and approaching the highest-ranking of them. To my surprise, I recognized the unicorn stallion as the sergeant who had accompanied Proud Line when first I had arrived in Canterlot, before civil war rent Equestria. I suppose ‘twas no surprise that our paths would cross again, now that I daily came to the palace on business of war. However, I had little time to spare for idly thinking ‘pon a chance meeting. “Sergeant, which cell holds Rightly Doo?”
He answered with a respectful nod. “I will escort you to him myself, milady.” He rose from his desk and quickly walked to the nearest of the private cells. “He has been silent since his arrival here, save for requesting a glass of water and a few words with the chirurgeons who treated his wounds.”
I grunted an acknowledgement of his words. The sergeant did not seem inclined to speak of our prior meeting, and I saw no reason to call it to his attention if he preferred silence. What I know of the Royal Guard’s internal functioning would say that a jailor is a far less prestigious posting than greeting visiting dignitaries. ‘Twas likely that the sergeant’s fall from grace was on account of what had passed on the day I arrived. Though his commanding officer, Proud Line, had been a fool who brought doom ‘pon himself, his father currently held leadership of the Commander’s Royal Guard. No doubt the sergeant’s new posting was a punishment for allowing his son’s injury and humiliation, regardless of the fact that the soldier had done all he could to dissuade the arrogant young fool from his course.
We made our way to Rightly’s cell. I quickly glanced through the small window in the door, espying him lying in bed, his wings bound to his side and other wounds bandaged. ‘Twas also the first time I had seen him unarmored, though it seemed wrong that it be under such adversarial circumstances. (1) For a moment I wondered if he slept; no doubt he was weary after the exertions of battle. However, he stirred and glanced to the door, perhaps having heard us moving about outside it. Mayhaps he had hoped for sleep, but it had eluded him due to the pain of his wounds.
1: It was relatively rare for high-ranking Pegasopolan warriors to go outside of their clanholds unarmed and unarmored. While it would not be that unusual for Shadow or Rightly to have met at their respective clanholds at some point in their careers, presumably they both kept things a bit formal to avoid any temptation and/or the appearance of impropriety. Wearing full plate makes any kind of fooling around extremely difficult.
I turned to the sergeant. “Open the cell. I would have words with him.”
The sergeant looked to me with a faint frown, but wasted no time complying with my request. Rightly’s cell door opened, and I strode into it. “Close the door behind me, then leave us.”
The sergeant’s frown deepened at that, and he did not immediately fulfill my request. “Milady, I mean no disrespect, but ‘tis most unusual to leave a pony of importance unescorted with a dangerous prisoner. Are you certain...” The sergeant’s words trailed off as he took note of the most displeased scowl I was directing towards him. Though I took no pleasure in dealing so harshly with a soldier who merely sought to do his duty, I was in no mood to explain myself. The jailor let forth a long-suffering sigh and stepped out of the cell. “Of course, milady. ‘Twill be as you desire. I will have to lock the door, but simply strike thrice ‘pon it once your business is concluded, and I shall open it.”
The sergeant closed the door, and moments later I heard the key turning within the lock. The observation window closed a moment later, leaving me entirely alone with Rightly at last.
Rightly turned to face me, though he did not leave his bed. His expression was carefully unreadable, rather than the fond smile he had so often met me with in better times. Instead he regarded me in silence for some time before he finally spoke. His tone was cold and distant, his voice devoid of the warmth I had become accustomed to hearing when we spoke in private. “Shadow, I expected we would have words at some point in my captivity. I will not betray my allies or my cause, whate’er temptations or tortures you and your allies think to offer me.”
“I did not come to turn thee ‘gainst thine allies or thy cause, though ‘twould gladden my heart if we could stand together once more.” I strode to his side, looking o’er the bindings on his wounds and trying to gain a sense for the severity of his injuries. From what little I could tell, they did not seem crippling. “How fare thy wounds?”
“Tolerable.” He turned away from me, and shifted on his bed to increase the distance ‘tween us. “And I ask that you do not speak to me with such inappropriate familiarity.”
I flinched back at his words. I think a physical blow would not have hurt half so badly. To be so cold and formal when meeting in battle was expected, but in a private meeting ‘tween us, where none would bear witness to what passed? His words had cut me to the quick. “Rightly, can we not set aside the war for a few moments?”
“And why should we?” Still he refused to face me. “Are we not enemies?”
“Enemies.” My shoulders slumped at the words, and I for a moment I was tempted to succumb to melancholy. I resisted the urge, and pressed on. “We serve different causes, aye. My beliefs and thine have come into conflict, and we have found no resolution to this disagreement save what can be found in battle, but I do not see thee as mine enemy. Not as I would view the servants of the dark powers or a gryphon reiver. What is within my heart and what I feel for thee have not changed, e’en though politics and duty have placed us on opposite ends of the battlefield.”
At last Rightly faced me, and I saw the pain within his own eyes. “If your feelings are as strong as you claim, then why did you choose a queen over your commander?”
Though he did not speak it, I heard the true question behind his words. He did not ask why Ephor Shadow Kicker had placed loyalty to Commander Celestia over loyalty to Commander Rightly. ‘Twas hard to see my defection as anything but a personal rejection of him, which had ne’er been my intent. “Rightly, I chose the only commander I have e'er known, the commander to whom my life and service both are owed, whate’er my personal desires. That I follow my duty e’en when it takes me from thy side does not diminish my personal regard for thee. Nor my hopes for what our future might hold.”
“‘Our future.’” Rightly let out a tired, bitter scoff. “I do not think it likely that we will have a future any longer. Are we to forget that we stand for causes that cannot be reconciled? That my kin and thine have not slain one another? Cling to the desperate hope that once this war ends we can return to a time before all this bloodshed and tyranny? If my cause is undone and I do not meet mine end on the battlefield, I will likely be executed, exiled, or imprisoned by your queen. If I am the victor, I would be hard-pressed to justify pardoning you, e’en if I could believe that you would not still honor and remain loyal to your queen.” His shoulder slumped, and a note of weary resignation entered his voice. “There is no future for us, Shadow.”
His words carried the weight of truth, loathe though I was to hear it. I made my way to his bed, sitting on the corner furthest from him. I wondered if the weight that pressed down ‘pon me was similar to that which the Commander herself bears. To know that a pony whose life is so precious to oneself might be fore’er lost, that I would never know Rightly’s gentle caresses or tender intimacies. Though Luna was sister to the Commander, whilst I would have Rightly as my lover, in both cases ‘twas a deep and powerful bond, and one now lost. If the pain I felt now was similar to what so pressed ‘pon the Commander, then I could well understand why she had fallen into such a deep melancholy.
“I do not know what we are to do,” I confessed. “I see no way in which we might find our joy together. I only know that I must do what both my mind and my heart tell me is righteous. To do otherwise would be to betray myself and my commander.” I gazed ‘pon Rightly’s noble visage once more and was sorely tempted to caress him despite all that had passed. “Yet I also know that I cannot deny that which is within my heart. I am torn ‘tween that which I must do and that which I wish for.”
Rightly averted his eyes from me once more. “Shadow, I am not ready to speak of such things with you. I fear I will say things that cannot be unsaid.”
Mayhaps ‘twas greedy of me, but I had hoped he would do precisely that. “Aye, there are many things we left unsaid, thinking we had the luxury of time. That we could wait for the proper moment, e’en if that moment proved months or years in coming. Now we both see the folly of that. If ‘tis as thou dost fear, and one of us will likely perish in this war, then this may well be our last chance to speak of the things we have not shared with one another.”
Rightly met mine eyes, though no words left his lips. For a long moment we simply shared that gaze, but ‘twas only a moment. Then he broke it, refusing to gaze upon me any longer. “I am sorry, Shadow, but I am the Commander of Pegasopolis. Would that things were otherwise, but my duty must stand before whate’er may be in my heart.”
“And I have my duty to mine own commander.” My wings drooped and my shoulders slouched as I faced that grim reality. ‘Twas foolish to think a bit of privacy could allow us to shut away all the problems of the world. “So that is the way of it. Pity we cannot not set that weight aside for a single conversation. I already tire of war, and would have a few moment's peace. Can we not allow ourselves to turn from our duty for this?”
Rightly sighed and slowly ran a hoof over his face. “There would seem to be little else for me to do until I am exchanged. Very well, I will have the discussion you—thou dost desire.” I was gladdened by the return to informal address, even if it seemed a product of weary resignation rather than true fondness. “I have not found the war to my liking either,” he confessed. “‘Twould be ideal, if we could return to simpler times.”
“Aye, that it would.” Pity that was naught but an idle fancy. No matter who won the war, the face of Equestria would be irrevocably altered by it. Either a single Equestria firmly united beneath Commander Celestia’s banner, or three pony tribes, with the pegasi as the first amongst equals. I slowly extended a hoof to him, in unspoken offer.
Rightly regarded my hoof for some time, then just as hesitantly took it in his own. “There are many questions I would ask of thee, but I am not sure if they would be welcome.”
“Ask what thou wilt.” I smiled as he drew my hoof to his chest. “I will answer those questions I welcome and refuse any that offend me. But in either case, I will not think less of thee for seeking answers.”
Rightly nodded, and gently squeezed my hoof. “Why art thou so loyal to Queen Celestia? Thou art not blind to her failures. I do not understand why she still enjoys thy support, especially with the heavy price it carries.”
Rightly’s questions did not begin easily, though I suppose I should have expected nothing else. “I support the Commander for two reasons. Firstly, though she has made her share of errors, I would not abandon my Commander simply for being imperfect. Her flaws stem from a troubled mind, and she requires our loyalty and aid now more than e’er. Secondly, she has a vision for Equestria's future which I believe in. I believe that for all our current troubles, there is yet the promise of better things to come.”
“Better things?” Rightly let forth an incredulous snort. “Is that why she has made an evil mare her archmagus and vizier? Is Pegasopolis to be a blood sacrifice for the creation of her new and better Equestria? Yet now thou wouldst name her as an ally. Hast thou forgotten the atrocity she perpetrated ‘gainst my kinsman Valiant?”
“I have not forgotten it.” A hint of discord entered my voice as I added. “Nor have I forgotten Valiant’s own crimes. He earned death, e’en if I would have preferred a gentler, more honorable end. As for the mare herself, Sunbeam is ... more complex than a mere villain. Few ponies can be fairly dismissed as purely evil.”
Righlty rubbed at his eyes and let forth a tired groan. “I will be fair to thee, for thou hast earned that much from me. Pray, explain why Sunbeam is not a fiend worthy of condemnation. Please, tell me thou hast not been ensnared in the same web of lies and manipulation that convinced Celestia she was a worthy choice. That thou hast not been persuaded that simply because a pony is useful, any evil she does can be o’erlooked.”
“Neigh, I have not.” I ran a hoof through my mane and struggled to find the right words to describe my feelings on the mare. ‘Twas not an easy task, especially as my opinions had been subject to some change of late. “That some of her actions are evil is beyond dispute. However, committing a few evil acts is not enough to declare her naught but a villain. She is a mare with admirable qualities and deficiencies both. I think Celestia can see that capacity for good within her, e’en if ‘tis not readily apparent to others.”
“But is it apparent to thee?” Rightly demanded. “What admirable qualities dost thou see in her that justify her foul deeds?”
I briefly recalled the time when Sunbeam had propositioned me in Rightly’s sight, and wondered if that might be part of why he had taken such keen interest in my opinion of her. “She is a very driven mare. She will stop at nothing to accomplish her goals, and those goals generally serve the betterment of Equestria.”
“Such as murdering a colt to slay a warlock?” Rightly scowled at the mere mention of the crime. “And then having the gall to question how we treat our foals.”
“The Clipping investigation was a mistake, though I think ‘twas as much Celestia’s error and that of the nobles as Sunbeam herself.” Though I had not spoken to her of the investigation, I could not imagine that Sunbeam wholly approved of the needless antagonism some of the investigators had created. “As for her slaying of the foal in the matter of Spellfire, lives were saved by the act, foul though it might have been. I cannot condone it, but I cannot bring myself to condemn it too readily. Sacrificing one life to save many is a difficult question of morality.”
Rightly drew himself up properly, sitting tall at my side. “But can we not do better than that? Surely there must be better choices in all of Equestria than to commit such crimes. I refuse to accept that the best possible solution involved child-murder.”
“I believe that there are better ways, aye,” I conceded. “However, I was not present at the event itself. ‘Tis easy to look at her actions from a distant perspective, and condemn them as needlessly cruel. Were we present in the heat of the moment, having seen only what she saw and knowing only what she knew, it might impact our judgment. As the Fourth Axiom says, one cannot always accurately judge acts taken in the field from afar.” I rubbed at my temple and presented my conclusion. “E'en if it saved lives, 'twas a foul act. But would allowing more to die through inaction be any better? I do not know, and so I hesitate to condemn another for choosing differently from what I would.”
Rightly crossed his forelegs o’er his chest and met my eyes challengingly. ‘Twould seem he was yet unconvinced. “E’en if that is so, if Celestia is so fair and noble a mare as thou wouldst have me believe, then why not pick another? Sunbeam Sparkle cannot be the only suitable mare ‘mongst the whole of the unicorns. E’en when Sunbeam's deeds are made plain to all, the queen did not hesitate to put Sunbeam back in power 'pon Polaris's defeat.”
“Aye, though one could point out that thy victory o’er our forces left us with precious few other options. Sunbeam Sparkle was one of the only free ponies left who had the power and influence needed to rule Unicornia.” I considered, and then amended my words. “But e’en before Polaris’ capture, I prefered Sunbeam to him in some capacities. If we hold our honor so dear to our hearts that it leads to the destruction of our own cause, then ‘tis little more than vanity. Better to tolerate a lesser evil than allow a greater one to take root.”
“Ah.” Rightly released my hoof and turned from me. “Is that the way of it, then? Have your fellow pegasi become the greater evil to you, Shadow?”
I was stung by his return to a more distant form of address. “So ‘twould seem, though only in a manner of speaking.” I struggled to put the proper words to my thoughts. “Thou art no villain, nor are any within the Ephorate. However, thy cause will end badly, and it must be stopped.”
Rightly turned to face me once more and placed a hoof on my shoulder. “Shadow, surely thou knowest that I would not be leading this cause if I thought it could lead to evil. I give my word, the removal of Celestia will ultimately be to Equestria’s betterment. Another can serve as steward of the sun, or several ponies working in tandem as we did before her arrival. Better for all that Equestria be ruled by mortal hooves, rather than an eternal queen who favors one breed either through willful choice or simply by being so taken with melancholy she cannot bestir herself to exercise her office.”
“Good intentions can still lead to a bad end,” I countered. “One cannot topple the pillars of our society and think that no evil will come of it.”
“Change is never easy, but ‘tis the one constant in life.” Rightly paused in thought, then amended, “Save for thy queen, of course. Heating a blade is not easy, and renders it vulnerable for a time, but tempered steel is ultimately stronger for it. Tell me, if thou wert so certain that my cause would have a bad end, why didst thou not tell me this before thou didst depart from Cloudsdale?”
I felt a momentary irritation with him. “I tried to, but I was not heard. Surely thou hast not forgotten it already?” I paused, closed my eyes, and reined in my choler lest it spoil the meeting. “Thou knowest my reasons, and I know thine. I see little to be gained in arguing over the matter one last time, when neither of us is likely to bend.”
Rightly closed his eyes and offered a small nod. “Aye. A different topic then? Something ... not involving the war?”
“I would prefer it.”
A long silence reigned ‘tween us, as Rightly struggled for some other topic. When at last he broke the silence, ‘twas for idle chatter. “How fares thy daughter? I saw Gale briefly on the field, and pray that she remains well. I would not wish the death of a child on any parent, e’en one such as Sunbeam Sparkle. ‘Tis the natural order that children should bury their parents. The reversal of that order is one of the cruelest prices of war.”
“Gale is as well as she has e’er been.” With some hesitation, I drew myself nearer to him. “Thou art a good stallion, e'en if war and politics have set us 'gainst one another.”
“And I do not believe thee to be evil, either.” He let out a low, weary groan. “If only I could have thee by my side, instead of opposing me. This war already seems a twisted, unnatural thing. Ponies should not fight against one another.”
I swallowed and made my own confession. “I share thy thoughts on the matter. And I cannot deny that I have spent many a lonely night wishing that thou wert at my side, or I at thine. Duty sustains me by day, but when there is naught but myself and a cold, empty bed...” I hesitated when it came to fully baring my heart, but not for long. “We should not have waited so long to speak truly to one another. We might have bound our fates together, but now...”
“Aye.” His head fell low, and he studied the bare floor of his cell. “At the time, the pain of losing Brave and our son was yet too fresh, and I could not bear to face it once more. I was ... I feared that by finding comfort in the arms of another, I would dishonor their memories. Yet now I wonder if ‘tis truly what my wife would have wanted, or if it merely would have saddened her to see me denied what happiness I could find in life.” He slowly shook his head and let out a bitter, humorless laugh. “In truth, when I met your warriors in battle, a part of me hoped that they might o’ercome me and strike me down, that I might at least see them once more. In moments of weakness I have given thought to joining them, but duty always stayed my hoof.”
“Rightly...” I moved nearer, so that my side was but a feather’s thickness away from his. “Thy lady wife would not have thee perish for many years hence. Thy misery and loneliness would only serve to bring her further pain. This may be our last chance to speak of such things. I beg of thee, do not squander it. We both have regrets enough as it stands, let us not regret words left unsaid for the rest of our days as well.”
He hesitated for some time, then with painstaking slowness shifted so that his side pressed ‘gainst mine. E’en through his bandages, I could feel the heat of his skin, and a part of me could think of little more than how much I desired more of his skin ‘gainst mine. To embrace him in every sense of the word and know him as only a lover can. Rightly’s own eyes were wide, and after a moment his tongue darted across his lips as his gaze held mine. “I ... I would not wish to make a mistake.”
“A mistake?” I prompted.
Once more, he averted his eyes from mine, but the gesture was half complete. ‘Twas as if for all his efforts, he could not fully tear his gaze away from me. “Aye, a mistake. Some would say that for me to love thee would be a treason ‘gainst Pegasopolis. And yet, to not do so would be a treason ‘gainst thee and ‘gainst mine own heart.”
I dropped to a low, wounded whisper. “Aye, I know thy struggle well, for I also fight it daily. ‘Tis an ache with no remedy, save the end of this mad war.” I caressed his cheek, and he met mine eyes once more. “I pray to thee, my dearest Rightly, let us have this moment, e'en if we must be enemies on the morrow. Let us forget the war for a few precious hours, and focus the full of ourselves solely ‘pon one another. The war shall still be there on the morrow, but we may not.”
The noble stallion slowly nodded, and by gradual degrees his head leaned in towards mine. His lips pursed, and my own made ready to meet him. However, as we were but a breath from contact, he reluctantly turned his head and placed a gentle, arresting hoof ‘pon my chest. “Shadow...” He closed his eyes, and took several long, slow breaths. “If ... I think 'twould be best—if this were to e’er happen—’twould be best if it did not happen until after the war. Now ... would not be a good time. Such a thing as this is to be cherished and treasured, not some quick exchange in a dungeon cell. And I think our troubles would only be magnified by the brief experience of all we will not be able to share with one another for many months hence. Let us wait for a better time.”
“If such a time e’er comes to pass.” I cannot deny that bitterness tinged my words to him. For all that I grasped the logic behind his words, a part of me wished to bed him here and now, and damn the consequences. However, e’en as the thought entered my mind, I knew ‘twas one I could not pursue. Duty bound us both to our causes, and thus ‘gainst one another. “Thou art likely right,” I admitted with considerable reluctance. Would that we lived in different times, where we might not be sundered so cruelly from one another.
Rightly took note of my displeasure and gently took my shoulders in his hooves. “Shadow, I would not treat thee with anything less than all the honor thou dost deserve. Thou art a mare of strength and distinction, and deserve better than stolen pleasures in a dungeon cell. I would take thee to wife, not use thee as naught but a salve to mine own loneliness.”
For all that he spoke of honoring me, a great part of me held no objection to the notion of salving his isolation. ‘Twas not as if I yearned for him any less. For all that he meant to do well by me, a part of me would be quite content with a touch less honor on his part. “Damn our duty to Celestia and Pegasopolis for denying us this indulgence. We cannot steal e’en a single night to be anything other than our posts.”
Rightly slumped, seeming drained. “Aye, the burden of leadership lies heavy ‘pon me as well, yet I bear it gladly for all its cost. Still on days such as this I confess mine envy of the common soldier. Their duty demands far less of them.”
“Aye.” I felt the bitter tinge of jealousy coloring my words. “Stalwart shares his wife's bed this night. I envy him for it.”
“Does he then?” Rightly was briefly silent, then offered a single approving nod. “‘Tis good to know that there is some pleasant news, at least. I know Sierra and their daughter have missed him terribly since the war began. For all the pain our parting will bring, I think us luckier by far than any who saw families rent and children divided.”
“Aye,” I rose from the cot, pacing about the room. “Compared to father separated from daughter, the pain of losing that which we never held seems a petty thing to bemoan.”
“Father to daughter...” Rightly reached for me, placing a hoof ‘pon one of my wings. “I was saddened that there could be no peace ‘tween father and daughter, when thou didst meet Cyclone on the field. And though I am glad that war and duty did not force thee to shed kinsblood, I fear the consequences of his departure from the field. If I can, I will bear a message to thy father—”
“My father,” I interrupted him. “Is Clay Striker. And he is dead. I do not know Cyclone the clanless, nor do I care to.”
Rightly was silent for several long moments, holding me in a steady, measuring gaze. When he at last spoke, he opted for a new subject. “Regardless, 'tis good to know there will be some small measure of peace for Sierra and her husband. I will gladly accept what joyful news can be found in these grim times. There is little of it in recent days. I have often felt as though the whole of Equestria was a tinderbox, and now we have set a match to it.”
“In truth, ‘tis not far from it.” While the rebel forces had only claimed the east ere they moved ‘pon Canterlot, they yet moved to consolidate their hold ‘pon the rest of Equestria. ‘Twas one of many reasons I had opted to withdraw behind the shield. Let the enemy bear the burden of controlling and administering all Equestria outside Canterlot, and without the benefit of the Unicornian bureaucracy.
However, such thoughts were far from my mind at the time. “Would that we could have our own peace, and excuse ourselves from this war.”
“Pity that we cannot,” Rightly agreed, melancholy increasingly taking him. “Such is the burden we must carry as the leader of our ponies. To be the strongest and unbroken, so that others will follow our example.”
“So it is.” I began to rise, but could not fully remove my eyes from him. “After the war, when this madness finally ends, if we both yet live...”
“Aye,” Rightly agreed. “So long as the war’s passage has not changed what lies within either of our hearts, we will conclude the business left unfinished on this day.”
“Aye. Already I look forward to it.” I closed my eyes and drew in several breaths, regaining the calm, cold distance I held about me when serving as the leader of ponies. “Until that day comes, fare you well, Commander Doo.”
“And you, Sub-Commander Kicker.” (2)
2: Given the somewhat less formal ranking structure of the loyalist forces, assigning an actual rank to Shadow proved a difficult exercise. Her Pegasopolan rank held little weight with the unicorns, and the rebels refused to acknowledge her as an ephor or as materfamilias of the Kickers (at least officially: as we have seen, many rebels privately conceded the reality of her clan leadership). Sub-Commander seems a passable compromise and fits her rank as one of the ponies Celestia directly entrusted to enforce her will.
The next day found me in consultation with Commander Celestia and her war council. The council itself was much reduced from its previous meeting, as Polaris and his many sycophants were naturally absent. The magi contingent was also considerably reduced, as the bulk of the archmagi posts had not yet been formally reassigned. Given that we hoped to have the captured archmagi returned in exchange for Rightly, there was little reason to replace them. Naturally Morning Star, as one of the higher-ranking remaining magi, was among Sunbeam’s attendants. Greenwall and Crossguard’s contingents remained at their full strength from all I could see, as did mine own save for Stalwart’s absence.
The meeting began with initial casualty reports which said little I had not already surmised. We had achieved our objectives, but paid a heavy toll in blood for it and left the field to our enemy. In truth, I would have counted it a kind of victory e’en if we had not done half as much damage to the enemy, nor had the good fortune of capturing Rightly. We had met the enemy in battle, and our weaker army had acquitted itself with honor. For all the superiority of the rebels, they could be fought and halted.
Sunbeam briefly offered her thoughts on our foreign policy situation. Thankfully, no foreign powers had yet taken an interest in the conflict. The gryphons and other races were content, for the moment, to simply watch events unfold. The longer the war continued, the greater the odds that some outside power would seek to take advantage of our division. ‘Twas grim to realize that it might be to Commander Celestia’s benefit if the reivers struck our shores once more. Our eastern shores were in rebel hooves, and raids would require that they remove forces from Canterlot to respond.
From there, we moved to the broader war. With Avalon Vale now in rebel hooves, they controlled the best path to Canterlot itself. Bright had taken command in Rightly’s absence, and had set her forces to encircling the city and cutting off all hope of escape or resupply. ‘Twas a move that suited my tastes perfectly well. An immediate attack ‘gainst our defenses in the tunnels might have pressed our tired army e’en with the damage to their siege engines. Thankfully, ‘twould seem that the battle had wearied the enemy just as much. Or mayhaps they simply felt no need to launch an assault whilst Rightly’s return was being negotiated.
That naturally led to discussing the exchange itself, which Sunbeam briefed us on. “The current offer from the rebels is the return of Copper Spark of the Eastern March and Piercing Cry of the Southern March, in exchange for Rightly Doo. With work, I believe we can also secure the release of a few lesser prisoners, but no more of the greater. We have heard no offer for Hidden Facts of the Northern March and have confirmed that Silver Circle of the Western March fell in battle.”
“And what of either Duke Polaris or his cousin?” One of the few remaining nobles asked. “What price would they ask for him?”
“Nothing reasonable.” Given what I knew of her disdain for Polaris, I suspect Sunbeam would have considered an offer to return at no cost an unreasonable offer. “Let us pray the two of them find a way to escape ere the war’s ending.”
“Two archmagi for a single rebel Ephor is a fine exchange,” Morning announced, carrying herself with a strength I had not seen since her husband’s capture. “If we also name a new Archmagus of the Western March, we shall stand at nearly full strength.”
“‘Tis so,” Sunbeam readily agreed. “Though obviously a proper conclave is out of the question whilst Canterlot is besieged. Equestria’s western territories are yet the freest of rebel control, and I feel ‘twould be best if the new archmagus were placed to rally forces in the region, rather than trapped with Canterlot. ‘Tween that and other concerns, I propose that Magus Mossy Banks be named as the acting Archmagus of the Western March.”
“That is a most unusual choice,” One of the other magi objected. “Mossy Banks has rarely set hoof in Canterlot and has presented little of note to recommend him for the post.”
“He has an army,” Sunbeam countered. “Howe’er small, it is one of the few outside Canterlot that flies Celestia’s colors. And one that will grow larger with his appointment. Already his strikes out of Froggy Bottom Bog harry the enemy’s supply lines. I see no reason not to encourage him.”
“Would that not make him a target of greater importance?” Crossguard asked. “And thus draw more rebel attention ‘pon him.”
“That it would,” Sunbeam agreed, a cruel smirk crossing her lips. “If fortune favors us, the enemy may e’en attempt to send an army into the bog in the hopes of rooting him out. I pity the rebel soldiers who draw that assignment. Banks knows that swamp more intimately than a husband knows his lady wife.”
No others sought to gainsay her, so Sunbeam moved on to the next order of business. “I have noted that the battle casualties took an uneven toll on our forces, particularly the levies. Some contingents are all but unscathed, and others bled heavily. So heavily, in fact, that their viability as independent units is called into question. Given that, I think it prudent all damaged levies are incorporated into Her Majesty’s Royal Guard, as a temporary wartime measure.”
Her remark drew a chorus of shouts from the remaining members of Polaris’ entourage and the other members of the nobility. “You would take our levies from us?” One particularly corpulent and o’erdressed noble thundered at her. “Unthinkable!”
Sunbeam met his sound and fury with utter calm. “Peace, Count. No levies are being stolen. We are simply folding the individual noble levies into a single unified command structure so that we can match the strength of the enemy. Our battlefield tactics require large formations of coordinated ponies, which independent levies are ill-suited to. As I said, this is only a temporary measure brought about by the unique stresses of wartime. (3) All have been called upon to make sacrifices for the good of Equestria during this difficult time. Now, ‘tis the nobles’ turn.”
3: And yet, Sunbeam did not return the private armies of the nobility after the war was over. Though really, everypony should’ve known that ‘temporary wartime emergency measure’ is just a polite way of saying ‘I’m using the war as an excuse for a power grab.’ Losing their private armies effectively neutered the nobility’s capacity to threaten Equestria’s stability or Sunbeam’s centralization of power.
Though there was a great deal of wailing and gnashing of teeth from the nobles, Commander Celestia offered them no reprieve, and with Polaris and his strongest supporters absent nopony could make a case ‘gainst her. Ere long a few of the nobles signalled their concession with reluctant nods, and that opened the floodgate for the rest of them. In light of that, I would not be surprised if Sunbeam had come to some arrangement with a few nobles, to ensure that early swell of support that would break the others’ will.
Grandmaster Crossguard rose to his hooves and offered Sunbeam a slight nod. “I will speak with the levy commanders as soon as possible and see to it that this consolidation is handled as swiftly and effectively as possible.”
“I will be at your disposal, Grandmaster,” I assured him. Given the chance, I would gladly reorganize our forces along Pegasopolan lines. Of course, some cosmetic adjustments would need to be made to spare unicorn pride when Pegasopolis was our enemy, but that was a minor matter. Tribal pride loses all value when it blinds ponies to the grim necessities of warfare. ‘Twould be the utmost foolishness to run one’s army ineffectively, simply to spite one's enemies for using wiser methods.
Greenwall cleared his throat, interrupting my musings. “Beg pardon, but I had a bit of a question ‘bout somethin’. We got any plans for what to do ‘bout the rain? ‘Cause it has been comin’ down pretty heavy e’er since sunrise, an’ from the way the rebels are linin’ up clouds I do not think ‘tis likely to end anytime soon.”
“‘Tis standard Pegasopolan siege doctrine.” I briefly glanced out a window, confirming Greenwall’s words with mine own eyes. “‘Tis their hope the constant rains will wear us down and weaken our resolve. Flooding, I think, is unlikely in a city placed on a mountainside.”
“I would not be so sure of that.” Greenwall frowned out at the streets. “Depends on how long and how heavy the rain keeps up. And if the rebels get any clever ideas, which I reckon they might sooner or later. I would rather not have our sewers backed up and o’erflowing.”
“Quite so.” Sunbeam let out a rather pointed sniff. “E’en if there is no truth to rumors of sludge monsters roaming our sewers, I rather suspect the good ponies of Canterlot would not appreciate seeing their leavings spilling out into the city streets.”
“Not to mention how many limestone buildings we have,” Greenwall agreed. “If any of you had e’er been down in the caves and seen a stalagmite, you know what happens to limestone with enough water and time. Not sure what three months of constant heavy rain like we’re getting right now would do, but I don’t reckon it’d be good.”
“Regardless, ‘twould be best if we disrupted their operations.” I spared another glance out the window, this time taking note of the rainclouds and their distance from Canterlot. “Out of easy spell range. I could attempt a raid with my clan, though the enemy would likely be ready for it. E’en if we succeeded, rainclouds are far more easily replaced than supply wagons.”
“What about the shield o’er the city?” Greenwall asked. “One would think that if it can keep out pegasi, rain would be simple enough. Make it into a large umbrella, and the rain would no longer trouble us.”
Commander Celestia bestirred herself from her throne, as she was still the custodian of that spell. “Sadly, it is not that simple. Currently, the shield enchantment places minimal burden on the pony or ponies maintaining it so long as there is no active pressure ‘gainst it. That is why it normally allows wind and rain through. Creating a large enough screen to deflect an entire city’s worth of rain, and having the constant pressure ‘gainst it from the unending water, would quickly drain anypony save myself—and e’en I would find it burdensome to sustain, especially whilst also reserving enough strength for other threats.”
“Perhaps we can block the rain in cycles, then,” Sunbeam suggested. “Allow it for a few days, then hold it at bay long enough for the city to dry.”
“That was my intention,” Celestia readily agreed. “With luck, the effort of sustaining a constant downpour will drain the rebels more than our own sporadic defense ‘gainst it. I will, of course, make a point of raising the rain shield long before ‘tis urgent, and holding myself ready to release it should the rebels seek to attack whilst my energies are divided. And I may be able to use the sun itself to disrupt their weather efforts.”
I know that there are many who questioned whether Commander Celestia played an active enough role in the war. I will say here and now that while I was saddened by her refusal to take the field alongside her soldiers, she did not simply sit upon her throne and do nothing while better ponies fought and died in her name. There are many kinds of battles, and many forms that service in war can take. (4)
4: I find this particular passage rather intriguing, primarily because popular consensus at the time was very much the opposite of what Shadow feared—perhaps Shadow was more concerned for her own doubts than those of the general public.
Celestia’s reputation was secured by Sunbeam Sparkle’s personal account of the war, published a year after its conclusion and for some time considered the definitive telling of the war from the Loyalist point of view. Having read that book as part of my research for this project, I can confirm that it is an immensely entertaining work, primarily because its narrative never allows itself to be derailed by inconvenient yet easily changed facts. What is interesting, however, is that they spend more time praising Celestia than even Sunbeam herself. For all her private displeasure with Celestia’s leadership, Sunbeam Sparkle chose to use her memoirs to rehabilitate her damaged reputation. I’m not sure if that’s incredibly selfless, or if Sunbeam was just such a political creature that even her autobiography was just another means of securing her goals. It’s a pity we don’t have any real account of her thoughts.
“I would also suggest we check the water pumps in the mines,” Greenwall advised. “They have not failed us in the past, but many tunnels have been collapsed, and others fortified in recent days. ‘Twould not do to have our soldiers under the mountain drown at their posts when we must allows the rains through.”
“Prudent,” Crossguard readily agreed. “Mayhaps we could e’en arrange to flood some of those tunnels which could not be fortified or blocked.”
“Preferably flood them after they are filled with rebels,” Sunbeam suggested. She noted the old knight’s disapproving frown and gave an annoyed flick her hoof. “Aye, I am sure ‘tis dishonorable to drown our enemies instead of stabbing them, at least by thy reckoning. That does not change the prudence of it.”
To my surprise, I raised my voice in her support. “Trickery and ambush are legitimate means of conducting warfare. Our enemies know that in attacking a position we have had ample time to fortify, they place themselves at risk for prepared traps. ‘Tis no more dishonorable than our soldiers refusing to inform the enemy of our tactics and deployment for an upcoming battle.”
Crossguard looked to Greenwall, and the earth pony signalled his accord. E’en his own subordinates within the Order of Sol Invictus did not seem eager to dispute the reasoning. While he would be within his rights to reject all our council, ‘tis rarely wise for a leader to refuse the advice of all his trusted subordinates when they are in accord against him. “Then so shall it be. I confess that it sits ill with me, but there is little about this war that I find pleasing.”
Crossguard shifted in his seat, turning to face his subordinates and share a few whispered words with them ere he continued. “Our efforts to fortify the entrances into the mines continue apace. Without siege engines, the rebels will be hard-pressed to break through the tunnels and will spend much blood to do it.”
One of his subordinates produced a small model of one of the tunnels, now blocked from floor to ceiling by a miniature wall with a single thick door. The interior of the wall had platforms, arrow slits, and murder holes to allow the defenders to harass the enemy. “Our engineers have done good work, though more hastily than I would have liked. ‘Tis my hope that these early walls will allow us time enough to build better ones behind them. Though I fear that if we can block all paths with properly sited walls with thick foundations, ‘twould simply encourage the enemy to tunnel ‘round us.”
“Sapping will be slow going,” Greenwall opined. “All the usual care must be taken and more. While the rebels likely have miners who know the tunnels, they will have none who know the full extent of our recent changes.”
“Aye, if naught else the walls are useful for restricting our enemies’ movements.” Crossguard waved a hoof o’er the latest map of the mountain’s tunnels. “However, the further they press us back, the more options they gain for flanking us by digging. And if they can secure a path that allows them to exit the mountain from within the shield, we are likely to lose the city unless they are quickly contained. Every step they take within the tunnels opens new directions they could mine, so we must ensure they pay in blood for their advances.”
Crossguard continued his briefing, moving now to the matter of how our formations would be adapted for tunnel-fighting, but Gale’s hoof on my shoulder drew my attention from him. I turned to face her. “Is something amiss?”
“Stalwart has returned.” She glanced to the side, and I noted the sergeant’s entrance as he made his way to join our contingent. There was a grimness to his countenance I had not expected to see, given that he was come from a final meeting with his wife and child. Though ‘pon further thought, ‘twas perhaps not so surprising, given that whatever joy the reunion might have brought would be tempered by his recent departure. I also noted a wrapped bundle strapped ‘cross his back with idle curiosity, though I assumed it to be some token from his family. I offered the sergeant a single nod to acknowledge his return, then attended Crossguard once more.
The briefing was some time in ending, though much of its remaining time was devoted to matters of logistics and diplomacy rather than the battlefield. Though ‘twas undeniably vital to know the state of our supplies now that the rebels would make it all but impossible to gain more, I will confess that I have always considered supplies in more abstract terms. I hardly needed know exactly how many tons of wheat, carrots, and potatoes we currently possessed, and the details of their disposition. ‘Twas enough to know that with reasonable rationing restrictions in place, Canterlot had enough food to see it through the winter, though not much longer without further measures.
The Royal Gardens and any other suitable land was already being put to the task of growing food, but ‘twould do little more than delay the inevitable. Whilst gemstones would be in ample supply, wood and iron would both be far more limited. Firewood looked to be a problem, come wintertime. Not only were supplies low, but given our current troubles with the rain, one could safely surmise that our winter would be a cold one. Colder still, if the old legends of what happened when ponies fell to discord and infighting held any truth to them.
That left our situation plain enough, if grim. Victory, or least an end to the siege, must come ere winter was ‘pon us in full. At best, the cold would place us at a severe disadvantage. At worst, it might unleash horrors out of legend ‘pon all Equestria.
Once the general briefing was concluded, the bulk of the ponies present in the room departed, leaving only myself, Crossguard, Sunbeam, Gale, Stalwart, and the Commander. Normally I would have asked my sergeant and daughter to depart with the others, but I judged it likely that they would not have remained if without good cause to do so. The others seemed to have reached much the same conclusion, and ere long all looked to the sergeant expectantly.
The sergeant did not seem terribly pleased to be the focus of our attention, and took a moment to gather himself ere he approached me. His mouth opened as if he intended to speak, but no words came out for some time. At last, he removed the bundle on his back, presenting it to me as he spoke with grim formality, “Milady, I was asked by Cyclone Cumulus and Bright Charger to grant these items to you ‘pon my return, as they are yours by right of blood.”
“Oh?” I misliked the grimness of his tone, and the cold formality of it. I turned to the bundle with some trepidation, slowly unwrapping it. Within, I found two wing blades of the finest quality, battle-worn by many years of hard use, yet freshly polished. It also contained two flight feathers whose owner I instantly recognized. There was only one reason I could think of for Bright to send me my father’s wing blades and two of his pinions, though I did not wish to credit it. A sick feeling settled into the pit of my stomach, a hollow emptiness that felt as if it could consume me.
Gale let out a soft gasp as she realized the implications. “Grandfather...” She swallowed, closed her eyes, and took a moment to gather herself. “How—how did he die?”
Stalwart’s eyes briefly turned to me, and he was hesitant in answering. “He took his own life in shame, Milady Gale. ‘Twould seem many were displeased by his withdrawal from battle without so much as token resistance.”
“Ah.” I should have realized ‘twould happen. Whene’er battle goes poorly, ponies are quick to seek somepony to levy the blame upon. Who better to make a scapegoat than mine own father, who had withdrawn from battle rather than shed the blood of his own kin? Especially when his withdrawal was responsible for the destruction of the rebel supplies and indirectly Rightly’s capture. Loathe though I was to say it, if one were to levy blame for the rebel’s failures at Avalon Vale, it rested with him.
Neigh. That is not the full truth of it. I had placed him in a situation where his only options were to break his oath not to shed the blood of his own kin, or to withdraw from battle. At the time, it had seemed a fine way to gain the victory I sought and cement mine own position as leader of the clan. However, I should have realized that in shaming him enough to achieve mine own ends, I had stripped away too much of his honor. There could only be one result of such an act.
Gale seemed to have reached much the same conclusion, whirling upon me with unshed tears in her eyes. “‘Twould seem thou art the victor in thy contest with Grandfather.” Gale wiped at her eyes whilst waving a hoof at Cyclone’s wing blades. “Enjoy the spoils of thy victory, Mother, for thou hast slain him as surely as if thou didst wield the blades thyself.”
Though her words cut me to the quick, I was hard-pressed to deny the truth of them. That truth did not change the circumstances that drove me to action, though. “I did my duty to Equestria. That Cyclone stood ‘gainst us was regrettable, but—
“Grandfather!” Gale snapped at me. “Do not speak of him by name, as if he were some stranger with no connection to us! Deny him in life if thou must, I grasp the reason why he was cast out. What harm is there in acknowledging him now, though?”
Sunbeam stepped forward. “Gale, thou art o’erwrought, calm thyself. Surely thou knowest that Cyclone Cumulus was cast from thy clan, his very memory damned and all record of him stripped from thy records. He was an enemy of Equestria, nothing more.”
Gale whirled on the archmagus, her teeth drawn back from her lips in a snarl. “Be silent. This is none of your affair.”
“It reflects ‘pon the war effort, ‘tis most certainly of concern to me.” Sunbeam approached my side and lay a single a hoof on my shoulder. “The wellbeing of one of our leading generals is no small matter. I will not have thee drive Shadow into melancholy and mourning for a traitor who was our sworn enemy. Our leadership has suffered enough losses to excessively bemoaning that which is lost as it stands.” Her eyes briefly turned to Celestia, who offered no response to the barb. Crossguard glowered at Sunbeam for the insult directed at his queen, though he did not say anything on the matter.
I brushed Sunbeam’s hoof from me, not caring at all for any defense built ‘pon an insult to the Commander. “There is nothing to be gained in arguing and accusing one another. Cyclone chose to take his own life by his own will. Though I regret the loss, my duty to Equestria required that I seize victory by any justifiable means. I could not sacrifice our cause simply for fear that a stallion who declared himself our enemy and sought to usurp leadership of the clan from me might suffer some dishonor from losing a battle.” My shoulders slumped, and I slowly shook my head, one hoof idly tracing the wing blade. “His death is regrettable, and I take no pleasure in it, but he was our enemy.”
“Neigh.” Gale turned her back on me. “Unicornia’s enemy, and Celestia’s, I do not deny. But he was our kin before all those things. Not e'en Sunbeam would sacrifice family on the altar of duty; I confess, I thought nopony could sink beneath her. He was the stallion who raised thee from foalhood. That cannot be forgotten or denied, simply because...” Gale’s words left her, and she looked about the room to all present, then ducked her head. “I apologize for my outburst and beg your leave to depart. E’en if others refuse to do so, I shall mourn my grandfather, and pray that I am not also cast aside for it. If kinship means so little to you, Mother, then I shudder to think how those kin who do not share your blood will fare. And indeed, if you are worthy of the title at all.” She did not e’en wait for Celestia’s permission ere she departed.
I stared after her in shock at her final words. Ne’er before had she questioned that she was my daughter, and I her mother. Had my actions towards Cyclone created a rift that would cost me my daughter as well?
Silence reigned o’er the room for a time, until Crossguard broke it by approaching me. “Do not let her words cut you too deeply. The young are driven by their passions and prone to words they later regret, especially in difficult times such as these.” He sighed and rubbed at his face. “This is a difficult time for all of us. If you will allow it, I would have words with her on the matter. She would not be the first young warrior who I have had to speak with after they lost a loved one. Death is ne’er easily faced, but I have more experience at it than most.”
“I would be grateful for it.” Mine eyes turned to the door my daughter had exited from. “I will have to make peace with her, but I do not think she would hear my words today.”
He regarded me for some time, then offered a restrained nod. “I offer my condolences on his death. I know there can be no funeral or mourning for the death of a traitor, but there is a difference ‘tween public displays and private mourning. If you have need to speak of your thoughts, I have ponies with experience in such matters who have shown the utmost discretion in the past.”
“My thanks for your generous offer.” I did not think myself likely to accept it, though. I was not some delicate maiden who must wail and moan about her trials and tribulations, seeking comforting words from another. Especially not a relative stranger like one of Crossguard’s ponies, howe’er experienced they might be in such matters.
Crossguard lingered by me a moment longer, then nodded. “As you will. If you need time to gather your thoughts, take it. The enemy is unlikely to strike in the next few days.” Having said his piece, the old knight departed, possibly to seek out my daughter.
Sunbeam returned to my side after his departure, her side gently pressed ‘gainst mine own. “He was correct, Shadow. Better a few days absence than for thee to be at the front, commanding our forces whilst thy mind is clouded.” She paused, then offered a faint shrug. “Mourn him as thou wilt, or do not, ‘tis thine affair. But if thou wouldst mourn a traitor, I advise thee to do so discreetly. I will not have our second-in-command weeping and wailing in public, when morale is at a critical point.”
Despite our new closeness, I needed a moment to fight down my irritation with the mare. “I had no intention of making a production of Cyclone’s death.”
“Of course not.” She paused, then tapped a hoof to her chin. “With luck, some of the traitors within thy clan will seek to return, now that the rebel Kickers have had their leader so soundly beaten. Whate’er thy private thoughts, do not forget that this is a great victory for our cause and should be celebrated as such. ‘Twould not do to have thee seem more attached to our dead and beaten enemies than our own living soldiers.”
“I will not forget it.” Cold though her words may have been, there was truth and wisdom to them. And a firm focus ‘pon my duties made Cyclone’s death seem far less pressing than it had been when first I learned of it.
“Good.” She leaned closer to me, and a hoof gently caressed one of my wings as her voice dropped to a low, breathy whisper. “Though I do not have Crossguard’s skill for wise words, there are other means by which I could offer thee comfort.”
For perhaps the first time in our contentious association, I found myself almost briefly tempted by the offer. A bit of meaningless carnal indulgence would at least allow me to take my mind from the matter for a time. However, I had no intention of sharing such a thing with Sunbeam Sparkle. “I respectfully decline.”
“As thou wilt.” She gave an uncaring shrug and withdrew. “There are other matters I would speak with thee regardless, but there is no urgency to them.”
“Noted.” I watched Sunbeam’s departure, then turned to the bundle, and the sergeant who had brought Cyclone’s last possessions to me. “Stalwart, take Cyclone’s effects to my quarters in the clanhold. I will decide what should be done with them later.”
“By your will, milady.” The sergeant dutifully gathered the items and made his departure, leaving me alone with Commander Celestia.
The Commander left her throne and settled before me. To my surprise, she opened a wing and wrapped it around me, drawing me to her breast. “Shadow, I am sorry for thy loss. So terribly sorry, that thy loyalty to me has come with such a heavy price.”
“I did my duty, as a warrior of Pegasopolis should,” I answered stoically.
“That thou hast.” She bestowed a single kiss ‘pon my brow, then drew me into a full embrace. “I know that thou didst have many differences with thy father, but for all that I know that he would be proud of the mare thou hast become.”
I said nothing, for I could conjure no words to answer her. Cyclone’s ... my father’s death was a painful thing to think upon, especially in these dire circumstances. And yet as Sunbeam said, I could ill afford to mourn him.
I was stirred from my thoughts as I felt moisture on my shoulder, where Commander Celestia’s head lay at rest. ‘Twas not hard to guess at the cause, though I could scarce believe that she would be weeping. “Com—Celestia? Is something amiss?
“A great many things are.” She turned her head to meet my eyes, allowing me to see the fresh tears. “Thou hast hardened thy heart in the name of duty, the very duty I have asked of thee. If thou canst not bring thyself to cry for thine own father, than I shall do so in thy place.”
Celestia returned her head to my shoulder, her tears trickling down my back. Despite her words, I think there was more to her tears than my father’s death. I believe she wept for all those who had perished at Avalon Vale, and the other battles of the war. And for all the others who would die ere the war ended.
I remained in seclusion for the rest of that day, and all the next. Officially, I was occupied with planning for the prisoner exchange and the future of the war effort. In truth, I was recentering myself. I cannot deny that Cyclone’s death had shaken me, especially as ‘twas plain to see that I had played a part in it. I had yet to reconcile with mine own daughter o’er the matter; the pain was still too fresh for us to speak on it without causing further troubles.
As the following day waned, someone knocked upon the entrance to my quarters. I opened the door and found young Midnight standing uncomfortably close to the entrance, staring up at me with somewhat unnerving intensity. The child was silent for several moments, then slowly blinked, cocking her head to the side like a bird that had spotted a particularly appetizing morsel of food. “Milady Shadow, Mother requests your presence in the throne room. She is quarreling with Her Majesty again and asks that you come to her aid in making the queen see reason.” She paused, and her lips creased in an annoyed frown. “In truth, her language was considerably less polite than that, but she has stated that I am not permitted to use such words, e’en though she does so readily enough when she wishes to. This strikes me as most unfair, but Mother has informed me that children must follow rules that do not bind their elders.”
I paid little mind to the girl’s complaints, for ‘twas the first part of her statement that commanded mine attention. Given their differing outlooks, ‘twas no surprise to learn that Sunbeam was in the midst of a disagreement with the Commander. That she would call upon me to aid her, howe’er, was an unexpected development. I was still adjusting to the idea of seeing Sunbeam as an ally and was ill at ease with the idea that she would see fit to call upon mine aid ‘gainst the Commander.
Regardless of such worries, an argument ‘tween the Commander and Sunbeam seemed a matter requiring mine intervention. Better to resolve it lest they be seen quarreling and become a source of idle gossip. In the midst of siege, ‘twas of the utmost importance that we presented a unified front whate’er our personal differences.
Midnight’s head slowly tilted in the other direction, a faintly bemused frown upon her face. “Shall I escort you to my mother and Her Majesty? I have been practicing a spell to protect me from the elements and can offer it to you as well.”
Ah yes, the rain. I had almost forgotten that ‘twas a constant feature of Canterlot now. I hardly needed a magic spell—a little rain was no concern for a warrior of Pegasopolis—but I appreciated the gesture nonetheless. E’en if a little rain was of no consequence to me, ‘twould no doubt please young Midnight to provide the service. I am also not so vain in my stoicism that I would subject myself to needless discomfort, howe’er minor. Howe’er, judging by the damp state of her mane, she had yet to fully master the spell in any case. “My thanks to thee for thine offer. Please, lead the way.”
Midnight answered with a nod and a polite curtsey. “Please follow me, milady.” She turned about and set a course for the exit to my clanhold. As we emerged outside, her horn briefly lit, and I noted a faint distortion in the air which redirected the rain. ‘Twas far from perfect, but it did spare the child a measure of the rain.
I glanced down at the ground and was unsurprised to see that the heavy rain had rendered the turf quite muddy. Though I am not so shallow as to be upset by a little mud, ‘twould hardly do to track it into the Commander’s palace. Especially when I could so easily avoid doing so through the use of my wings, though flying in such heavy rain would be a trial.
Young Midnight, however, lacked that advantage. She glanced down at the mud and let out a pained sigh. “And just after I cleaned my hooves ere I entered your clanhold...” She frowned down at the mud for some time, then glanced up to me. “Milady, I would not normally ask such a boon of you, but I do not wish to dirty myself on the journey to the palace. Is it possible you could render me aid in reaching the palace unsoiled?”
I saw no reason not to grant her request, and I dropped to my knees to allow her to settle onto my back. It took a few moments for her to arrange herself into a position that was secure and comfortable for the both of us without impeding my wings, but soon enough she was settled and I took to the skies. The child’s weight was a burden, but a relatively minor one.
Once I had established a comfortable rhythm that kept us near enough to the ground that she would not be unsettled, I spared a glance back at my passenger. “Thou art well, child?”
“Aye.” Her grip briefly tightened around me as she glanced down at the ground beneath us. “I do not think you will let me plummet to my doom to dash my brains out ‘pon the rocks below. The battle two days ago also ended without Mother being impaled on a lance, having her head bashed in by a hammer hoof, or having some other form of death or injury inflicted 'pon her, so I am happy for that as well. I am also pleased that Gale survived the battle, though I fear ‘twill be some time before we can have another tea party. She may never have the chance to learn of Lord Lordington of Lordsdale’s newest dastardly scheme to implement jus primae noctis so that he might bed several of the realm’s more attractive women.” (1)
1: Jus primae noctis was a supposed custom allowing a noble to take the virginity of any of their subjects. Despite popular belief to the contrary, there are no records of such a law existing— the common theory is that was either invented as a propaganda claim against the nobility or was born out of exaggerated rumors of actual noble practices. It certainly wasn’t unusual for nobles to have brief dalliances with the youngest and most attractive of their subjects, or for them to take advantage of their positions to allow such liaisons.
‘Twould seem that Midnight’s imagination remained as morbid as ever. For lack of a better response, I simply acknowledged her words. “Yes, I suppose thou wouldst be glad of a chance to play with my daughter once more. And glad that thy mother lives.”
“As are you, I am sure.” Midnight regarded me unblinkingly. “Mother says that you have grown closer to her in recent days. Regardless, you would know well the pain I avoided due to what happened to your own father.”
Her words nearly unsettled me enough to take me from the sky. I suppose I should not have been taken so badly by surprise, but those few of my clan I had spoken to since learning of his death had been more cautious in discussing his demise. As always, Midnight was either far bolder than she had any right to be or so strange of mind that she did not grasp why ‘twas not appropriate to speak of such things. Regardless of which it was, mine answer remained the same. “Cyclone Kicker lost his right to that title.”
The young girl was silent for some time, probably mulling over my response. “I was not aware a pony could lose that title. At least, I have not read or heard of such a law or tradition. 'Tis unique to the pegasi, yes?”
I found that curious, for I was quite certain unicorns had disowned members of their own families in the past under similar circumstances. (2) “It is not unheard of for family members to be disowned for high crimes or treason.”
2: While Shadow is correct, the actual details of the process differed between unicorn and pegasus. To summarize, while a disowned unicorn would be denied any inheritance, resources, or status, unicorns believed that the private family relationship endured. In fact, many of the more infamous criminals and traitors within the Unicornian nobility ended their days quietly under house arrest in one of their family’s lesser estates, effectively enjoying a comfortable retirement.
Midnight lapsed into silence once more. When at last she spoke, her words took me unawares. “Strange, that the pegasi would do such a thing. What high crime did Cyclone Kicker commit to earn such a sentence?”
I stared back at the girl, quite flummoxed by a question with so obvious an answer. “He betrayed the Commander.”
Midnight wasn’t satisfied with mine answer. “How so? I was told that Queen Celestia was lawfully removed as commander of Pegasopolis. And near as I know, your father was not e’en involved in that vote.”
I felt a moment of irritation with her, though I quickly suppressed it. ‘Twould seem that for all her oddities and intellect, Midnight was yet a child. “Commander Celestia’s removal was improper. Beyond that, he participated in a war to usurp her rightful authority and oust her from the throne of Unicornia and leadership of Equestria, neither of which the Ephorate has any right to do.”
Midnight paused long enough that I returned mine attention to flight, and I had nearly forgotten her presence when at last she spoke. “Ah, I believe I understand now. You mean that he betrayed her in spirit, but not legally?”
That seemed a close enough answer for my purposes and would at least spare me any more of her questions on the matter. I was less than eager to discuss Cyclone, especially with a child. “Aye, I suppose so.”
“Ah, so that is the way of it.” Unfortunately, the silence that followed was rather shorter than I had hoped ‘twould be. “But that still leaves me confused. I can understand disowning him for legal reasons, but not for what you are describing. This sounds like a disagreement between family members rather than a legal matter. I have disagreed with Mother about how much ice cream I should be allowed to eat, and whether pink skulls are appropriate decor for a young filly’s room, but neither of these things made me e’en consider disowning her. And Gale has not disowned you, e’en though there are times when she disagrees with you. Despite the fact that she is most wroth with you right now, she still names you as her mother.”
Once more I found myself growing choleric with her. As if Cyclone’s actions and a disagreement o’er sweets were e’en remotely comparable. “He also sundered my clan to begin this war of treason and attempted to usurp my position as materfamilias. I only hope that with his passing the rift might finally be healed, and my clan will be united once more.”
Moments after the words left my lips, I wished I could withdraw them. For all that duty required that I scorn him, I confess that with his passing I was ill at ease with the idea that Cyclone was naught to me but a traitor and enemy. For all that politics and ideals had turned us against one another, ‘twas difficult not to recall better times and wish for a return to them. Perhaps that is the curse of loyalty, to be split in twain when that loyalty is divided. Still, better to bear that curse than to live without honor.
Midnight shifted about on my back. “I see. May I ask a question?” I gave her my permission. “Were it not for your actions, your father would still be alive. Are you uncomfortable with being a kinslayer?”
“Mind thy words, child!” Were it not for the awkwardness of managing such an action whilst flying, I likely would have cuffed her head for speaking with such an uncivil tongue. I was sorely tempted to land so that I might box her ears for such impudence. Howe’er, I rather doubt Sunbeam would appreciate her daughter being treated so roughly, deserved though it might be.
The child flinched and shrank as much as she could whilst remaining upon my back. “My most sincere apologies, Lady Shadow. I was merely...” She very carefully considered her next words, likely searching for the best way to express herself without further angering me. “I was merely attempting to gain a clear and accurate understanding of the situation. I beg your forgiveness if I have caused any offense, ‘twas not mine intention.”
I briefly closed mine eyes and took several breaths, reining in my wrathful impulses. ‘Twas far from the first time Midnight’s innocent curiosity had caused her to stick a hoof into an open wound. There was no malice to it, simply an inability to understand why her words were so hurtful. Once I had my temper in check, I offered her mine answer. “Thou art forgiven, child. But do not speak thusly to me again. I will have words with thy mother on this matter.”
The girl quailed at that far more than she had at mine own anger. What I had seen of Sunbeam’s child-rearing methods inclined me to think she was every bit as harsh and demanding as a warrior of Pegasopolis would be. Midnight would not enjoy whatever punishment her mother felt appropriate for gravely offending a vital ally.
She did not speak again for the remainder of our flight, and when we arrived at the palace itself, she wordlessly slid off of my back and withdrew to an appropriate distance. She began to dutifully lead me towards the throne room, but paused and glanced over her shoulder. “I apologize once more for my poorly chosen words. I think I can understand some of your troubles. I would be conflicted if I discovered that my mother had betrayed Queen Celestia. Howe’er, e’en if she did such a thing, she would still be my mother.” Her eyes darkened, and a hint of a growl entered her voice. “I have had to listen to more than one pony say that Mother is a traitor for one thing or another, real or imaginary. I do not care for such talk, though there is little I can do to stop it.”
Though there had been a time when I would have suspected much the same of Sunbeam, such days were long past. Though I had not forgotten her flaws, my time in Canterlot had allowed me to see that she was not without virtues to balance them. “I have heard such talk as well. I judge it baseless. Thy mother is ambitious, but within reason.”
Midnight offered a ponderously slow nod. “Aye. If Mother had decided to launch a coup, everypony would either be calling her Queen Sunbeam, or she would be hanging from a gibbet for the sport of the crows. Or perhaps traded to the rebels, for I suspect they hate her e’en more than they do the Queen herself.” Her head cocked to the side as she idly studied one of the palace’s many decorations. “Also, I do not think Her Majesty would tolerate it if Mother were plotting against her. Mother has also said such a thing would be foolish for her to attempt, especially when the Queen’s melancholy has often allowed her to be the true ruler regardless of who wears the crown.”
That much was certainly true. Since learning the depths of her melancholy, I had to wonder if ‘twould not be better for the Commander to appoint a regent for the moment. Whilst the war made such a thing impossible for now, if she remained so paralyzed by mourning her sister and the war in general, then perhaps ‘twould be best if she took the time needed to properly face that pain rather than attempt to carry on as though all were well. Though such thoughts brought me uncomfortably near mine own circumstances regarding Cyclone; as Sunbeam had informed me earlier, our cause could ill afford to have another of its leaders fall into depression.
I turned the child, mine own internal doubts made plain by my next question. “Thou wouldst still love her as thy mother, though? Regardless of her actions?”
Midnight answered me without a moment of hesitation or doubt. “She is my mother. Of course I would love her e’en if she became a vile traitor or warlock.” She paused and shifted her hooves, refusing to meet mine eyes. “Though I would prefer her not to be a traitor. 'Tis much easier on me when I do not have to choose between my mother and my queen on such matters. If I were forced to make such a choice, I suspect I would side with Mother, though I would make every effort to avoid such a situation.”
I suppose ‘twas the natural choice for a child to pick family o’er duty. Though perhaps I should have tried more to reconcile the two. Gale had urged me to negotiate with Cyclone, but I had refused to do so, fearing it might weaken my position in the clan or cause the unicorns to doubt my loyalty. Still, if there were e’en the slightest chance that I could have won him to my cause with the right words...
I shook my head and did what I could to cast that thought aside. Cyclone was dead. Continuing to ponder on that fact and how mine actions might have prevented it served little purpose, so long as I avoided replicating the failure in the future. No doubt much of the Commander’s time in melancholy moods was occupied in pondering what she might have said or done to prevent her own sister’s fall from grace. I turned to young Midnight. “Aye, 'twould be ideal if the choice between family and duty were never thrust upon us, but we do not always have that luxury. Howe’er, I am glad thou shalt not e’er experience such.”
Midnight stared at me unblinkingly for several long moments, then shifted so she was walking nearer my side. “I am sorry you are experiencing that. I think that is yet another reason why I do not like this war. I will add it to the list.” She frowned in thought and began counting down said list. “It means Mother, Gale, and other ponies might die. It upsets the Queen. Other ponies like Morning Star and her children lose those they care about. And it will be harder to get ice cream now that we are cut off from any outside supplies. Worst of all, the constant rain has filled the streets with mud.” She turned her eyes back to me. “And now it has hurt your clan as well. I wish I could do something to stop it all, but...” she trailed off with a helpless shrug.
“I have often wished that I could end this as well,” I confessed. There was little glory or honor to be won in this war with our own kind. Merely the grim necessity of seeing the conflict through to its conclusion. Howe’er, that was not an answer to give to a child, so I placed a hoof on her shoulder and offered her a quick smile. “My thanks, dear child.”
Midnight immediately halted, then turned to me with a confused frown. “For what, milady?”
“For thy kind words.”
Midnight answered with another one of her slow blinks. On account of her dark coloring, ‘twas some time before I realized that her cheeks had turned pink. I never would have imagined that I would see the young girl blushing so. “I do not remember anypony saying that to me in mine entire life.”
That statement took me quite by surprise. “Truly? Not e’en thine own mother?”
“Neigh, not e’en her.” She considered her answer, then shook her head. “To be precise, she has not thanked me in such a manner. She has offered her gratitude for many minor acts, such as holding a door open or passing the salt at the dinner table. As have others. But you are the first to thank me for something of ... substance, I suppose. ‘Tis a curious thing, but one I find quite enjoyable.”
“I see.” Quite unfortunate, though I suppose ‘twas no surprise. Sunbeam was not a mare of kindness and gratitude, and Midnight’s nature was off-putting enough that she had little opportunity to earn the favor of others. “If thou wouldst have more praise, continue to be a fine young lady, and I shall have cause to thank thee once more.”
Midnight answered with a smile that was thankfully more subdued than some of her previous efforts at the expression. At the very least, her teeth were not so prominently bared, nor her eyes unnaturally wide. ’Twas also helpful that her voice carried genuine enthusiasm rather than her normal emotionless monotone. “I will do my best in that venture!”
The problems of her smile aside, ‘twas hard not to find her eagerness somewhat infectious. She was still a young filly and had a child’s energetic approach to life. “Very good then. I look forward to thine efforts.”
Strange as she was, I found myself growing fond of young Midnight just as my daughter had. Perhaps ‘twas simple maternal instinct or a natural product of my growing closeness with her mother. Though I think a part of it was also Midnight herself. She was clearly a young filly in need of more ponies in her life than merely her mother. Sunbeam Sparkle is not a mare who should be a child’s sole caregiver and companion. If the girl needed more adults to bring balance to her life, I saw no harm in filling such a role when and where I could.
Midnight cleared her throat, and I realized we had reached the throne room. The doors were sealed, and I could tell that a privacy spell was in place. Hardly surprising, if Sunbeam and the Commander were quarreling. The girl nodded to the door. “Here we are, milady. I believe they are expecting you.”
Given her reaction to mine earlier praise, I saw no harm in offering more. “My thanks for providing me with an escort, Midnight. Be well. And do not trouble thy mind about thine earlier words which offended me. I think I will forget to mention them to thy mother.”
Midnight visibly relaxed, offering me a grateful nod. “You have my most sincere thanks for that, Milady Shadow. Now mother will not punish me by refusing to let me go to a play, or taking away my dessert. I do not enjoy being denied either of those. She might e’en have forced me to write a scroll on what I did wrong, and how I will correct my behavior in the future.”
The girl sighed, then cleared her throat and returned her mind to her task. “I apologize for troubling you with my complaints, and for mine initial offense, e’en if ‘tis forgiven now. I wish you luck in facing Mother and Her Majesty. You will need great fortune to see you through this, I think. Being between two ponies using the Royal Canterlot Voice in an argument is ... painful. I mean that physically.”
I was briefly surprised to hear that Sunbeam was matching the Commander’s volume, though I suppose ‘twould be a simple enough trick for a magus of her calibre. “I shall prepare mine ears accordingly, then.” I took a deep breath, made ready for the latest battlefield, and then strode into the throne room.
To mine immediate relief, neither of them was shouting when I entered the throne room. Howe’er, that relief proved short-lived, as both turned their full attention to me. As Sunbeam was nearer the door, she was first to strike, trotting to my side. “Shadow, at last. Perhaps thou canst talk some sense into Her Majesty.”
The Commander remained on her throne, gazing down from it with the aloof regal dignity I had often seen when she seemed to feel a need to assert herself. “I have heard thine arguments, Sunbeam. I have also found them wanting. If thou canst not bring thyself to accept that thy queen hast spoken on the matter, then by all means present a new argument. ‘Twould be far preferable to enduring more of thy complaints that I must somehow be deficient simply for not accepting thy desires without question.”
The archmagus answered her with an annoyed snort. “Yes, of course, Your Majesty. As Queen of Unicornia, you are well within your rights to rule as you please. Howe’er, if you will not heed the rational advice of your Grand Vizier, then mayhaps I should step down from the post so that another candidate may be appointed. Though Your Majesty will find that any other suitable replacement will share mine opinion on the matter.”
That took me by surprise, given Sunbeam’s lust for power. Most likely she hoped to shake Celestia into compliance, or at least reconsidering her position. If that was her intention, then she underestimated the Commander’s insight. “Do not insult mine intelligence, Sunbeam. We both know thou art bluffing.”
A brief frown crossed Sunbeam’s face, but she quickly put the matter aside, shrugging away her defeat. “The fact remains that I am most displeased with your decision on this matter, Your Majesty.” Her attention once more shifted to me, and her tail briefly passed over my wing. “I am confident that Shadow will agree with my reasoning once I have explained the situation to her. Mayhaps then you will reconsider?”
The Commander let forth a long-suffering sigh, but spared a tired smile for me. “Very well, if ‘twill buy me a moment’s peace, then make thy case to Shadow. Though I do not anticipate altering my position on the matter, ‘tis possible Shadow might make some argument which has eluded thee thus far.” She brought a hoof to her forehead, rubbing her temple. “And mayhaps when she finds thine arguments as unconvincing as I do, thou shalt accept my ruling and cease thine endless complaints. I am ... weary of this.”
Sunbeam’s eyes narrowed, and she let forth an aggrieved snort. “If you truly find my words so offensive, Your Majesty, then perhaps you should consider why I press the matter so firmly. Do not forget that my concern is for the good of the realm and Equestria. A realm you seem quite content to ignore whene’er a melancholic mood takes you, or some new project strikes your fancy, much like it has now.” Her lips curled back from her teeth. “If you lack the strength of will to rule o’er the land, perhaps you should have informed us of such before we committed to a civil war to preserve your crown. If you wish to keep your throne, kindly allow your faithful servants to help you retain it and cease interfering in their efforts.”
Celestia tensed, then drew herself up to her full height, glowering down at the unicorn. “Thou dost o’erstep thyself, Sunbeam, e’en for private counsel. I will tolerate thy dissent and e’en thine anger, but do not press the limits of mine indulgence. I will not be held in contempt by a mare whose solution to every problem is violence and death. Make thine argument to Shadow respectfully , or thou might find that I accept thine earlier threat of resigning thy post.”
Sunbeam answered her with a cold smile. “Now it is you who offers empty bluffs, Your Majesty.” Having said her piece, the Archmagus of Canterlot turned to face me and offered a respectful nod. “Mine apologies for the scene thou didst witness, Shadow. I ask that thou mediate the differences ‘tween us.”
I privately wondered if mediation were e’en possible. Were we in Pegasopolis, such a tense disagreement might well have come to blows. Likely the only reason it had not was that Sunbeam knew such a clash could only end in her utter defeat. Regardless, ‘twas my duty to do what I could to resolve the matter. “Mayhaps we could begin by informing me of the substance of this dispute? Thus far all I know is that the both of you are at odds o’er some matter regarding the war.”
“Yes, of course.” Sunbeam nodded to herself and stepped nearer to me, placing herself in such a way that she largely obstructed my view of Commander Celestia. “The discussion grew from my suspicions about Lance Charger, in the aftermath of our recent discussion on the matter. I believe ‘twould be best if we removed her from the field ere she could do any further harm to Equestria. Her Majesty disagrees. Vehemently.”
“Ah.” ‘Twas no surprise the Commander objected when Sunbeam wished to murder a pony that Celestia had asked that I spare. “I take it thy theory regarding Lance’s unusual capabilities had some truth to it, then?”
“Sunbeam was indeed correct,” Commander Celestia confirmed. “Though Lance Charger is something of an unusual case, she does indeed have the potential to become an alicorn.”
“I see.” I chose my next words very carefully. “I am curious as to why we should allow her to do that. Thus far she seems quite devoted to the rebel cause, and would be a considerable asset for them if allowed to reach her full potential. They have already driven us back to Canterlot and put the city under siege without an alicorn in their ranks. With that added strength...”
“Not to mention Lance would make a far better rallying point for their rebellion than Nightmare Moon.” Sunbeam spared an irritated glance for the Commander when she flinched upon hearing her sister’s name. “For all their efforts to rehabilitate her image or explain that they do not wish for eternal night, many still associate her name with the other dark powers. A new alicorn would spare them that. She would also provide a far more practical rallying point than a pony exiled ere any of us were born, and free the rebel propagandists to claim that Luna’s exile is a polite lie, that she was secretly murdered and disposed of by the queen.”
Celestia’s face darkened in the closest thing to a snarl I had e'er seen from the Commander. I was surprised to note a faint smile on Sunbeam’s face at the Commander’s reaction, and she turned to look at the Commander from the corner of her eye. “And of course, let us not forget that unlike certain other parties, this new rebel alicorn would actually go to the effort of joining her troops in battle rather than simply sit upon a throne and complain whilst others do their best to secure victory despite her.”
“ENOUGH! ” The Commander slammed a hoof ‘pon the floor, sending cracks through the marble as the room itself trembled at her fury. “Be gone from my sight, Sunbeam Sparkle, lest I have my guards escort thee to my dungeons! ”
Sunbeam fell silent, then slowly and deliberately bowed to the throne. “As Her Majesty commands, so shall I do.” She then turned to me. “Reason with her if thou canst, Shadow. Though I am not hopeful.”
“You are unwise to goad her so,” I cautioned in a low murmur. “I have ne’er seen her so wrathful in all my time in Canterlot. Not e’en when she learned of Swiftwing’s Clipping.”
Sunbeam’s cryptic smile only widened at that. “I should hope so, after how much effort I have put into provoking her. If ‘twould bestir her from her melancholy, I would gladly smite her across the face and call her naught but a cheap harlot in front of the entire court.” She stepped back from me and offered a slight nod. “I wish thee luck, Shadow.” Having said what she cared to, the Archmagus departed, leaving me alone with a highly agitated alicorn.
Once Sunbeam had left us, Celestia rose from her throne, furiously pacing about the room and growling dire threats under her breath. I remained to the side, lest I become a target of her wrath. ‘Tis well known that those who are slow to anger become quite fearsome once their tempers are fully roused. Though in mine own experience, mine anger is every bit as heated as others despite being quick to emerge.
’Twas unfortunate for the Commander that she lacked a convenient outlet for that rage. When a foul mood takes me, I can enjoy a simple spar with a well-protected partner. ‘Twas quite common within Pegasopolis to take the blows of a friend when they were in an especially choleric state, allowing them to vent their spleen. Pity that was not an option for Celestia. There were few beings in the world capable of taking her blows, and one of the dark powers would hardly have accepted a friendly spar with the sun queen.
Lacking any such partner, she simply stalked about the room until her rage subsided naturally. With the mare who had so provoked her absent, ‘twas only a matter of time ere her usual calm demeanour reasserted itself. At that point, I judged it safe to approach her. “Commander, do you still wish to—”
“Discuss the matter of Lance Charger?” The bitter whip-crack of her voice made it plain that I had misjudged her. “Aye, let us do so. I ne’er tire of having my many inadequacies as a ruler displayed before me.” Moments after the words left her mouth, and ere I could e’en begin to muster any response, she held up a hoof to forestall mine answer. “I apologize for that, Shadow. ‘Twas unworthy of me. Sunbeam has a rare talent for causing me untold aggravation, but the price of that anger is hers, not thine. I beg thy forgiveness.”
“You already have it, Commander,” I quickly assured her.
“My thanks to thee.” She stepped nearer, one wing upraised, and for a brief moment I wondered if she intended to embrace me with it. Howe’er, after a moment’s pause, she lowered it and then slowly walked back to her throne. Once seated, she let out a long, pained sigh. “To the business of the crown, then. Though Sunbeam was undiplomatic in making her case, ’tis hard to deny that sparing Lance Charger and allowing her to reach the point of ascension seems a strange choice. Howe’er, I have my reasons for doing so. Reasons that are, unfortunately, rather difficult to explain to a pony who...” She frowned as she trailed off, struggling to find the right word.
“Is mortal?” I suggested.
“Aye.” Her eyes turned to the window, staring out o’er the city. “I do not like to think of myself as standing above and separate from my subjects, yet there are times when ‘tis an undeniable truth. Immortality and ascension bring with them a far different perspective upon the world—one that I have found mortals cannot understand. They simply lack any common frame of reference to discuss the matter.”
A frown crossed her face. “And so we come to the matter of Lance. Aye, she is in rebellion against me now, but once she reaches the point of ascension that will change. Turning from an ordinary pony to an alicorn is a transformative experience, one which defies any attempt to describe it. Lance Charger will be a changed mare afterwards.”
Comprehension dawned. “So you believe that in turning her into an alicorn, you will gain her loyalty?” If that were her intention, then I could certainly see the logic behind it. Not only would the loyalists gain a powerful new ally, but Lance’s defection might well turn Bright to our cause as well. The pride she held in her eldest daughter was obvious, and if Lance turned, she might well reconsider her own loyalties. With Bright currently in command of the rebel forces... “You think to end the war bloodlessly, and in a single stroke?”
Celestia offered me a tired smile. “Yes, precisely. Lance Charger will be the bridge ‘tween myself and the rebels, allowing us to end this needless war and restore peace and harmony to Equestria. That plan has been the focus of mine efforts since the war began. Sunbeam and my generals, thyself included, have tended to the grim military realities, but wars are not truly a matter of blades and armies. Those are merely the tools used by ponies to advance the beliefs which compel them to take up arms. With Lance’s ascension, I can undo the very idea of the rebellion.” Her eyes shone with the calculating gleam of a chessmaster about to declare mate. “The greatest victory in warfare is not crushing your opponents’ armies or slaying their soldiers. It is persuading them that they should ne’er have raised arms against you to begin with.”
’Twould seem that Sunbeam and I had misjudged Celestia. Though the melancholy I had seen in her so often might have dulled her actions and her mind, she was not without her moments of brilliance. In fact, I wondered what could possibly have turned Sunbeam so vehemently against the plan. E’en as that question occurred, I espied the potential weakness of Celestia’s masterstroke. “How certain are you that Lance Charger would be won to your cause when she ascends? Is it an absolute knowledge, or merely your prediction?” Celestia’s face fell, which was answer enough to my doubts. “The latter, then.”
“Aye,” she confirmed. “Though I have a far deeper understanding of my subjects than most, I cannot predict their actions with total certainty. What I see is only the best that they can offer, the fullness of their potential. Lance Charger could be the key to ending this conflict. Or she could choose a different path.”
Now I fully grasped the cause of Sunbeam’s displeasure. “You would offer Lance Charger ascension e’en knowing that she might remain loyal to the rebel cause afterwards?” I felt a frown growing on my face. “Lance is Bright’s favored child. Though I confess I do not grasp how ascension might affect her outlook, the bond ‘tween mother and daughter is not one easily broken.” My mind briefly turned to my troubles with Gale, but I quickly cast the thought aside ere it could distract me. “‘Twould seem to me that Lance remaining loyal to the rebel cause is a dangerously likely outcome.”
“It is,” the Commander conceded. “Howe’er, I have faith that when the time comes, she will make the right choice. Sometimes we must believe in the goodness of our fellow ponies, e’en when reason suggests otherwise.”
Ah. Small surprise Sunbeam found that answer so offensive. She was a mare who had no such faith. Her natural inclination was to assume that all were as self-serving and ruthless as she herself was, and she seemed to take a particular delight in exposing the base motives behind seeming deeds of selflessness. If Celestia could offer no certainty of her plan beyond belief in the decency of others...
In truth, Sunbeam was not the only mare who found such an assurance wanting. The Commander intended to gamble the whole of our war effort upon this plan. Sunbeam was undeniably correct that Lance Charger refusing to turn her coat would likely doom the loyalist cause. For all that I wished to share the Commander’s faith, my rational mind told me that she intended to embark upon a course which would almost certainly end in our destruction. That seemed a needless risk.
Though I had not offered her any answer, my doubts must have been plain enough on my face, for the Commander’s expression fell as she regarded me. “I see. ’Twould seem that thy closeness with Sunbeam is not merely a matter of cordiality. Thou wouldst favor her course o’er mine?”
I quickly approached the throne as near as I could without being unseemly. “That is not the way of it, Commander. I favor what is best for Equestria. If your gambit succeeds, ‘twould be an ideal end to the war. Yet I cannot help but think that, absent some assurance that ‘tis likely to succeed, we are taking a very grave risk. Denying Lance the possibility of ascension would seem a far more prudent course of action.”
She answered me with a heavy sigh, slumping low into her throne. “So e’en thou art against me in this, dear Shadow? Truly, I am alone.” The melancholy took her once more, and the animated energy I had so recently seen within her drained away, leaving behind a very old and very tired mare once more.
When she spoke once more, I could hear the weariness in her voice, a sort of resignation to her own failure. “So be it, then. I know Sunbeam’s ways better than she believes. When next she has the opportunity, she will attempt to arrange Lance’s death. Likely at the prisoner exchange. E’en if thou wilt not have faith in my plans, canst thou at least do what thou wilt to prevent her from murdering the mare who is our only hope of ending this war bloodlessly?”
“I will ... consider it.” I did not have the heart to refuse her request directly. In truth, I do not think I could bring myself to oppose Sunbeam if she chose the prudent course of action. While I would not actively seek such a situation, I would be sorely tempted to take Lance’s life myself if the opportunity presented itself to me. The gravity of the threat she represented was simply too great to allow it to come to fruition.
Celestia regarded me, her eyes piercing mine. For a moment, I suspect she saw into the very core of my being. Despite her earlier claims, in that moment I felt as if she knew mine every thought, desire, and action with absolute certainty. “I have faith in all of my subjects, Shadow. Not only Lance, but thee as well. I know that when the time comes, thou wilt do what thou knowest in thine own heart is right. E’en if you cannot believe in me, I shall continue to believe in you.”
Guest Chapter: Manehattan Crisis II
The Manehattan Crisis: Part II
by guest writer Ponibius
We return to Ephor Swift Blade’s journal and the looming budget crisis facing the Provisional Earth Pony Government. While the issues of supply lines and wartime financing might not interest all readers, they are critical issues to anypony who wants to fight a war. No army can fight on an empty stomach, and it becomes difficult to wage a war without being able to buy materials such as tents, arms and armor, and medical supplies.
The Lunars losing their siege train greatly impeded their ability to lay siege to Canterlot. While the new Acting Commander Bright Charger was able to gather enough supplies from the surrounding countryside to allow her to maintain her army in the short term, it was not enough for an extended siege. That brings us to Swift Blade making some of the most important decisions of the war.
The question on how best to deal with Chancellor Fair Deal eluded me e’en after several days. Arranging a coup was no simple thing. There were many factors to consider: who Fair Deal’s supporters were, where the Manehattan militia stood, how many guards the chancellor had at his disposal, and so forth. If I was to launch a coup ‘gainst Fair Deal, it needed to be done perfectly lest I invite disaster. Thus, I had sent out my children to discover what they could to assist with the upcoming coup.
In the meantime, I had busied myself with my other duties. Presently, I found msyelf drawing up a list of what Acting Commander Bright Charger would require for her army. The list would do me little good until the bits were gathered to use it, but Tax Deed had proven of some use in that regard.
Quick and Skilled returned two days after we received the news about the Battle of Avalon Vale. Desiring to take some time away from our daily worries, I sat met them for lunch on a cloud o’erlooking Manehattan. Of course, sitting down to share a pot of stew with my children came with its own troubles.
“Skilled, cease playing with thy food,” I softly reprimanded.
My youngest looked at me through the corner of her eye, a potato slice balanced precariously on her nose. “I am merely practicing my martial skills, Father.” She weaved her head cautiously to keep the victual in place. “Precise control of one’s body is important to any warrior.”
“Be that as it may, there is a time and place for such a thing.” I nodded towards my other child. “Be like thy brother and show proper manners.” Quick gave his sister an amused grin, which Skilled returned with a glower.
Skilled had always been one to play her games at dinner; as a filly, she had always bored easily and sought diversions to amuse herself. It had taken no small amount of effort on my part to break her of the worst of her habits. Sadly, as happened so often to young warriors who spent time in the Long Patrol, her manners and etiquette had eroded from the experience. I worked so hard to instill.
Time spent in the Long Patrol was often a favored topic of conversation amongst my fellow ephors and geronts—one I could not participate in myself. My younger years had been spent rising within the ranks of those ponies responsible for supplying the daily needs of Pegasopolis, rather than slogging through the woods and mud on the outskirts of civilization. Still, I stood out as the only member of the ephorate who had not spent a tour amongst the ranks of the Long Patrol—something I had been mocked for more than once.
“Thy food is not a bauble. There are better tools with which thou might train.” I gave her a pointed look. “After we have eaten.”
She let out a long sigh. “Aye. Of course, Father.” She flipped the potato into the air with a flick of her nose and caught it in her mouth. Admittedly, it was a fine feat of dexterity, though I still felt it was my duty as her father to express my displeasure with a frown. That took some of the cheer out of the smile she gave me.
I did not mean to be too hard on her, but as the daughter of an Ephor, she needed to maintain a level of respectability. She was not some court fool intended to entertain those around her. Still, perhaps there was some means by which I could raise her spirits. It was not my intent to crush her spirit or energy. “How is thy work with thy wingblades these days? It has been some time since I have seen thee in a practice duel.”
“Probably because there is not a pony ‘mongst all the pegasi around Manehattan worthy of challenging me.” She fished a carrot from her bowl and idly flipped it into her mouth. “I would not bore thee with a contest hardly worthy of the name.”
“I still wish to see thee, even if thy opponents are not thy match. ‘Tis rare that I get to do so as of late.” Thankfully, Skilled had been born with the martial talents of her mother and grandmother rather than my own. Her skill was such that Bright had squired her for a time when Skilled was a filly. That feat had been made somewhat easier due to her mother’s lineage as a Charger, and the materfamilias of the Charger clan, Bright had always had a soft spot where kin were concerned. Skilled had benefitted from the lessons, and with age and experience she might become one of the foremost duelists in Pegasopolis. It filled me with no small amount of pride to see her duel somepony else, and I hoped that I could do so again once the business of war no longer pressed quite so hard.
“Maybe once the quarrels between the earth ponies have settled.” Skilled’s observation echoed my own thoughts.
“Aye, daughter. Thy duties come first.” Satisfied that matters were settled between the two of us, I returned to my meal.
“Father?” Quick piped up. There was hint of hesitation in his tone, but he summoned up the courage to continue. “I was wondering if I could ask you a question. Something has plagued my thoughts for some time now, but I was unsure how best to bring it up with you.”
“Then ask.” I waved for him to speak. “I have never dissuaded my children from speaking their mind when something concerned thee. Speak, and let me address thy question as best as I am able.”
Quick took a bit of time to put his thoughts to words. “I was wondering why you chose to remove Celestia as Commander of Pegasopolis and wage war ‘pon her?”
The weight of the question gave me pause. What had caused my son to ask such a thing now, of all times? Did he perhaps harbor some doubts about the righteousness of our cause? Best to nip this uncertainty in the bud.
Before I could conceive an answer, Skilled was quicker as she made a derisive snort. “Because Celestia is a tyrant. She favors the pampered unicorns in her capital over the warriors of Pegasopolis and is worthy of leading nopony.”
“I do not think it so simple, sister,” Quick said, his tone calm and passive as always. “The Ephors of the last century did not object to Celestia being our Commander. I wonder what has changed since.”
“I will answer thy questions in two parts,” I interrupted, cutting my children off ere their squabbling could become too serious. “First, why I sought to remove Celestia as Commander. To put it simply, I do not think she serves Pegasopolis’ interests anymore, if she e’er did. That she could believe we would mutilate our own children made that plain enough.”
Anypony with any sense could have seen the Clipping of young Swiftwing as the perverse act of a foolish young stallion. In any event, the matter had been dealt with long before Queen Celestia had e’en heard the news. Hammer Striker had taken his life in shame, his memory damned. There had been no need for the queen to bring her pompous unicorn oafs to Cloudsdale. Especially not when they were being led by that thrice-damned mare, Sparkle. Speaking of whom...
“Also, ‘tis clear that Queen Celestia has lost touch with her virtues.” I took a quick sip of my canteen before continuing. “Nopony who would make a foal-slayer like Sunbeam Sparkle her Grand Vizier and Archmagus can claim to be acting virtuously.”
“One could argue that Archmagus Sparkle’s usefulness outweighed her evils,” my son countered. I had sought to nurture my son’s ability to think for himself since the day I had adopted him. Though this did lead to moments where he could be contrary, seemingly for the sake of it, that was a price I was willing to pay to have a pony who would tell me when I was being foolish.
I dismissed my son’s argument with a wave. “Neigh, for a Commander is culpable for his subordinates’ flaws when he knows of them and accepts them. If an officer should put a pony he knows to be a drunkard on guard duty during the night, is it not the officer’s fault when the guard fails in his duty due to partaking of spirits, and several ponies are slain?”
Quick stroked his chin in thought. “In such a situation, the Commander would be at fault,” he grudgingly agreed.
I nodded. “And so it is when a pony in power uses the services of an evil one. Queen Celestia cannot claim to have clean hooves when her Grand Vizier is so steeped in sin. A moral pony does not use their subordinates to deny responsibility for their own actions.”
“The faults of a subordinate lay at the hooves of the pony that put them there to begin with,” Skilled quoted from Lyequingus’ philosophy.
“Just so,” I agreed.
Quick voiced no more objections to my argument, but instead moved onto another question. “And your reasons for wishing to remove Queen Celestia’s crown and appoint a new pony as Chancellor?”
“A more complicated question.” I looked down at Manehattan, watching the earth ponies below go about their business as though there was not a war being waged a few hundred miles away. Such was usually the way of things: we pegasi fought and protected the earth ponies, and they lived their lives in ignorance of our sacrifices. “If I will be honest with my children, it mattered little to me whether Queen Celestia won the election fairly or not.”
Skilled blinked in surprise. “What do you mean, Father? The election was the reason we went to war with the Sun Tyrant. Please, do not tell me that our cause is built ‘pon a lie.”
I raised a hoof to forestall further outbursts. I realized I may have misspoken to my daughter. Skilled had always been more literally minded than Quick, so I had to be more careful in how I worded my answers to her. “Do not misunderstand me, I do believe that Queen Celestia, or at least her supporters, are guilty of foul deeds committed during the election.”
I had to admit to myself that at least some of the late Apple Tree’s followers had also been guilty of their own crimes, especially after meeting the likes of Provisional Chancellor Fair Deal, but I was trying to allay my daughter’s worries rather than make them worse. Doubt could be a poison to a warrior such as her, and one that could be fatal on the battlefield when one did not wield their weapon with absolute confidence, both in their skill with a blade and the righteousness of their cause. Some ponies were better equipped to deal with such doubts than others, and I believed my daughter was best served having nothing undermine the bedrock of her belief in our heroic cause.
“But was it worth going to war over?” Quick asked, refilling his bowl from the thundersteel cooking pot.
“Aye, ‘twas.” I lifted my bowl to Quick, and he accommodated me by filling it. “For as long as Celestia remained both Queen and Chancellor, she would always have a noose round Pegasopolis’ neck. While we have little use for most of the material goods that our earth pony and unicorn cousins adore, e’en the warriors of Pegasopolis cannot live without food, and we would be poor warriors without the enchanted arms and armor they provide us. All our former Commander would have to do to squeeze us would be to deny us the things we need to survive and do our duties.”
A pensive frown worked its way across Skilled’s face. “I admit, that seems ... self-centered, Father.”
I squared my shoulders, showing confidence in my stance. “‘Tis the duty of a leader to do what is best for the ponies that depend ‘pon his leadership. As Ephor, ‘tis my responsibility to lead the pegasi and do what is best for Pegasopolis. In this case, what was best for Pegasopolis was opposing Celestia and her tyranny. As long as she remains in a position of power, there will always be a chance that she could become the Commander of Pegasopolis once more.”
I felt my gaze turn towards the direction of Mount Avalon and the city of Canterlot. “While my fellow Ephors and I are resolute in opposing her, who is to say what our followers will be like? Our desperate struggle with Griffonia and Discord caused us to turn to the Royal Sisters; who is to say that another crisis would not cause us to do so again? Ponies will often choose safety over freedom, and the Queen of Unicornia is a pony with immense power in her own right. As an immortal, she can merely wait for the ideal moment to regain her power. Neigh, we cannot allow her the opportunity to do so, and thus we must remove her from power and have her banished from Equestria.”
“There seems to be wisdom in your words,” Skilled said stiffly. I could tell that while she agreed with me, it only came grudgingly and did not sit well with her. Politics never agreed with some ponies, my daughter amongst them.
“I know what I speak of.” I placed a hoof on her shoulder. “Equestria will be a better place once Celestia has been removed from her throne. Aye, ‘tis likely our unicorn and earth pony cousins will be better served with the pegasi determining Equestria’s course.”
Quick made a pensive frown. “Please forgive me if I misspeak, but do I take it to be your intent for Pegasopolis to be the hegemon of Equestria?”
That was the question, was it not? In truth, I had not spoken of my innermost thoughts with anypony. ‘Twas one thing to discuss removing Celestia from power; ‘twas quite another to speak of making Pegasopolis the foremost nation of Equestria. Though if I could not trust my own children to listen to me on this matter, then with whom could I ever speak of it? “Aye, I think Equestria would be best served by Pegasopolis leading. The Commander and Ephors of our nation are by far the better leaders. We select our leaders based on ability. Far better than the accidents of birth that make up Unicornia’s nobility or the earth pony politicians that are subject to the whims of the mob.”
“I think you might be oversimplifying things,” Quick objected. “You forget the magi, many of whom advance through skill and magical prowess within Unicornia. And there are earth ponies who rise to prominence and are elected based on their merits as well.”
My son did have a point, much to my frustration, but I was not about to so readily relent my own. “True, there are exceptions ‘mongst our cousins, but they are only that: exceptions. We, however, always select the best from our numbers to lead us.” Quick looked as though he were to continue to argue the point, but I forestalled him with an upraised hoof. “Peace, my child. Trust thy father in this. I know that Pegasopolis is not perfect. Our system does favor the great clans and the patrician families, but it still allows for ponies such as myself to rise to positions such as the ephorate. Our history is filled with pegasi who have been adopted by one of the patrician lines to become Ephors. Better than in Unicornia, where being born a bastard causes one to be an object of scorn.”
One of Quick’s ears made the barest flick, but otherwise he showed no other signs of irritation. “It is as you say, Father. I consider the matter at rest.”
“But what about Commander Luna?” Skilled interrupted, inserting herself into the conversation once more. “I wanted to know why you wish to free her from exile. If I can ask, that is.”
I waved to allay her worries. “‘Twas my idea to declare Luna as our Commander in absentia, so the question is fair. But to answer thy question, there are a few reasons why I want to free her from her exile. The first is that I suspect that Queen Celestia did a grave injustice to her sister, and I seek to correct it.”
“Our former Commander claimed that her sister had fallen to madness,” Quick said.
“Aye, so she did,” I allowed. “But I think it likely she lied about the matter. Her sister was clearly the better leader for Equestria, as ‘twas Commander Luna who always led our soldiers in the field, liberated Manehattan, and defeated Equestria’s foes while her sister sat passively on her throne.”
Skilled rubbed her chin. “But why would she lie about her own flesh and blood?”
I stirred my soup as I spoke. “The simplest explanation would be that she had come to fear her little sister’s growing power and influence in Equestria. She was already the Commander, and her sister had been forced to make her a fellow Queen of Unicornia. Her influence with the earth ponies was not insignificant due to her liberation of Manehattan and the protection she had given them over the decades. Simply launching a coup ‘gainst her sister might have caused all of Equestria to rise against her. So she created a lie to keep everypony passive.”
“So a simple power struggle then?” Quick mused. “‘Twould not be the first time siblings have fought one another for the crown.”
I nodded. “Aye, that is my thought. ‘Twould also explain why their battle was decided so swiftly. If prolonged, Commander Luna would have called the pegasi to her side, and together we would have crushed her elder sister. So Queen Celestia made sure to be quick with her coup and exile her sister before Commander Luna could muster her supporters.”
Skilled crossed her forelegs and frowned in contemplation. “And if Queen Celestia is telling the truth, and her sister is mad and seeks to bring about eternal darkness?”
My wings flicked at the uncomfortable thought, for ‘twas an unsettling possibility I did not much care for. “Then we will deal with her as we must. No single pony, alicorn or otherwise, is a match for the combined arms of Pegasopolis. We might e’en be able to capture her and then succeed where her sister failed, and find a means by which to cure her of her madness.” I sipped at my bowl to give me some time to think. “Do not forget the possibility that Queen Celestia has committed kinslaying and has lied to cover for her crime. If ‘tis so, then ‘tis our duty to bring the truth to light and bring justice to our fallen Commander.”
Skilled hummed to herself as she thought. “It does seem to be our duty to ascertain Commander Luna’s fate, either way.”
“Aye, so it is.” I looked at the contents of my bowl as I considered what bringing back Luna would do for our cause. “And do not forget the benefits of getting our true Commander back; she would be the perfect counter to her sister once she is deposed. She could be eternally vigilant ‘gainst her sister’s return to power once this war is over, for ‘tis a risk that future Equestrians might invite her back as the centuries roll on. But I doubt Queen Celestia would be so forgiving o’er being unjustly exiled herself.”
There was also the fact that our earth pony and unicorn cousins would more readily accept pegasi dominance if we had Luna as a figurehead. Many unicorns and earth ponies did not know Acting Commander Rightly, but nearly all had heard of Commander Luna and knew her to be a noble hero of Equestria.
Quick’s ears swiveled as his mind went to work. “I suppose ‘tis worth bearing in mind that ‘twas Commander Luna who raised our ancestors to minor clan status. ‘Twould be dishonorable for us not to do what we could for her in her time of need. She might e’en reward us for our loyalty to her, however delayed it might be.”
“‘Twould be good for Equestria to still have a stalwart defender,” Skilled added. “I have heard ... some of the earth ponies talk about what we would do without Celestia to protect us ‘gainst the likes of Discord and other such fiends.”
I noted the brief pause, and was forced to wonder if there were other pegasi who harbored their own doubts. ‘Twas natural, as many considered ponykind dependant upon her after centuries of her rule.
I would have to find a way to calm those concerns when I had the time, and maybe e’en bring it up with my fellow Ephors. Though the fact of the matter was that Queen Celestia could not remain in Equestria once she was defeated. ‘Twas simply too much of a risk for her to remain where she could rise to power once again.
“We will find a way without the Queen,” I assured my daughter. “Especially if we can free our true Commander.”
“Though first we will need to find a way to free her,” Quick pointed out. “I doubt her sister will be willing to assist us once we have defeated her.”
“True, but one step at a time.” Talk of the fact that we needed to win the war snapped me back to more immediate concerns. “Speaking of which, we need to speak of what to do concerning the Provisional Chancellor.” Now that I had my children’s attention with the change in topic, I continued. “Skilled, how many soldiers canst thou bring to Manehattan?”
Skilled’s ears wilted a bit. “Not many, I am afraid. I have no more than three hundred pegasi under my command, and they are busy suppressing the Solar militias. We could pull them from such duties for a short time, but they can not stay in Manehattan for long if we do not wish for the countryside to catch aflame again.” She shook her head with frustration. “I fear the Solar militias’ numbers will only swell once they learn about—what we plan on doing.”
I fought back a grimace. Three hundred would not do to take over and control Manehattan if it came to that. E’en if every pegasus warrior was a matchfor ten earth ponies, we would still be buried under the sheer weight of numbers if it came to a protracted battle. Manehattan had rioted when Apple Tree had been assassinated, and I feared ‘twould result in much the same if I were to slay Chancellor Fair Deal. Looking down, I could see the streets filled with a constant buzz of activity as the industrious earth ponies went about their work. ‘Twas not hard to imagine the whole city becoming like a disturbed anthill once its citizens were provoked.
“Perhaps we should call on the Commander for more troops?” Quick asked deservedly.
I thought over the option for a moment before shaking my head. “I think not. Commander Bright needs all the soldiers she can muster for the siege and other campaigns. Given the trouble we have had pacifying the earth ponies from Manehattan to Fillydelphia, I doubt the advance into the Unicorn Range will be any easier.”
There was also the fact that I did not wish to appear weak before the other Ephors. Begging them for help would do much to discredit me before their eyes, and at a critical time. Rightly had already publicly disgraced me in front of everypony for helping him win a critical battle, and the recent losses amongst the Ephors had changed the balance of power between us. Steel had already seen fit to appoint Bright as our Commander—at least until Rightly could be exchanged as a prisoner—without even consulting me. My fellow Ephors already dismissed me more than I liked, and a failure at this point in time could be very damaging to my influence and ability to help win the war.
I decided to go down a different avenue for help. “How have thy efforts with recruiting the Lunar militias gone?” I had tasked Skilled with trying to build a standing earth pony militia, as Commander Luna had done during the war to liberate Manehattan. While I did not place much faith in the earth ponies’ martial prowess, an earth pony army we could use against the Solars would at least give us more numbers to work with.
“Poorly.” Skilled’s wings flicked in irritation. “I have recruited some earth ponies to join the Free Earth Pony Liberation Army, but not as many as I would like. Many who say they wish to support our cause also do not desire to move away from their farms and hometowns. They say that if they cannot protect their homes and families, then the army we are creating is useless to them. I also lack the ponies to properly train them.”
Curse the earth ponies and their provincial natures! Sometimes I wondered if they could even conceive of a world outside of the little hamlets they lived in. “Maybe I could ask Commander Bright for some sergeants to help with training in my next letter to her. If thou dost not have the ponies for the task, then there is nothing to be done about it. Are there any other troubles?”
“Equipping them has been a nightmare,” my daughter said sourly. “I have asked the mayors around Manehattan if they could allow us to open up their militia armories to equip the army, but they have proven reluctant to do so. What we do receive tends to be the oldest and most worn equipment available. This has done little to help with the Liberation Army’s morale.”
“I would imagine so.” I rubbed at my forehead as the stress built up from the foul news. “I will see what can be done to reverse this when I have dealt with more immediate problems. In any event, it seems we will not have the raw numbers we will need for a direct coup. Quick, hast thou found any allies amongst the earth ponies in the provincial government?”
Quick fiddled with his food, his gaze concentrating on his bowl instead of focusing on me. “Neigh, I have not. For one, I had to be careful how I made my inquiries lest our intentions be made clear to the Chancellor and his supporters. ‘Twould hardly help our cause if Fair Deal learned of our plans.”
I noted my son’s reluctance to continue, his failure clearly weighing upon him. It always put him into a bout of melancholy when he did not meet my expectations in some way, and I had to do what I could to snap him out of it. “I understood the difficulty of thy task when I first gave it to thee. If thou didst thy best, then that is all there is to it. Please, continue.”
With my words to encourage him, Quick spoke again. “I do not think there will be any way to convince the Manehattan militia captain to support us. By your command, I spoke with Humble Pie and discovered that Chancellor Fair Deal has married his sister. In truth, I think that was his main qualification for the position of militia captain of the city.”
“So we will not find an ally in the Manehattan militia,” I grumbled. “What of his political opponents in the city? Surely there must be ponies who oppose him. The earth ponies’ stubborn and argumentative ways are rather infamous.” It would greatly aid our cause if there was a suitable replacement for the Chancellor to fill in the void, were I to remove him by force. While the earth ponies would likely revolt if I tried to rule their government directly, they might not do so if Fair Deal were replaced with a reasonably popular and competent pony.
Quick let out a long sigh. “I am afraid we are in quite the quandary. Most of Fair Deal’s political enemies sympathized with Queen Celestia, so most fled to Fillydelphia when Commander Rightly approached Manehattan. The new chancellor’s hostile attitude towards the magnates did not help, as many of them alo fled . Most of those that are left are the Chancellor’s supporters, and I was not able to discover any organized political resistance to his rule among them.”
“Grand.” I fidgeted with my armor, now finding it to be uncomfortable. “So we have neither the forces needed to take and hold Manehattan nor a political faction we can call upon to assist us.”
Quick leaned in to speak with me. “Perhaps you could attempt to talk with the Chancellor to try and convince him to alter his course? Surely more ponies in his cabinet will see the truth when you point it out to them, and they in turn can use their influence to make him see reason.”
Thinking back onto my last encounter with Chancellor Fair Deal, I felt a deep loathing boil up from within me. “Neigh, I do not think so. Fair is no reasonable pony. Not when he is so consumed with taking revenge on the magnates after a lifetime of struggle. And his cabinet invariably echoes his words. I wouldn’t be surprised if he selected a bunch of minions to fill up those posts instead of selecting more competent ponies like Tax Deed.”
Skilled scooted closer to me so that she could place a hoof on my shoulder. “There would seem to be little harm in trying, Father. What do we have to lose in merely trying to speak with him?”
“Wasted time and effort,” I huffed. “Time we do not have much of if we are to give the army the supplies it needs. Neigh, we need another solution.” A state of melancholy fell over me as I struggled to think of what could be done now, with so many options closed off to me. “Hast either of thee have any more ideas we have not already discussed?”
The three of us sat in silence for a time, deep in thought, our impotence hanging over us. Quick glanced my way as if to speak, but then turned away again.
Desperate for anything to break the silence, I addressed my son. “Hast thou an idea, Quick?”
“Well ... neigh, ‘tis a foolish idea.” His shoulder slumped in defeat. “I would not advise it.”
“Let me be the judge of thy plan.” I patted him on the back to encourage him. “Please, I will not judge thee poorly when we all seek a plan that might stand a chance of working.”
Quick seemed to be paralyzed with indecision before summoning up the will to tell us of his plan. “Very well, Father. Though it might mean angering your fellow Ephors, what I was considering was...”
I heard out his idea and smiled.
Prisoners of war can be a resource in and of themselves, especially the more valuable ones. E’en the noble and dedicated warriors of Pegasopolis can sometimes be captured despite all their best efforts, as was proven when Commander Rightly Doo fell into Loyalist hooves in the latest battle. ‘Tis merely the way of war, and thus ‘tis important to take prisoners of your own when possible. Prisoners can be exchanged, and I would have been surprised if Bright was not having talks to have Rightly exchanged that very moment, if she had not already reached some agreement with Queen Celestia. We had certainly captured a wealth of important prisoners after our victory over Polaris’ army.
Of course, there was the practical consideration of where to hold such valuable prisoners. We had our prisoner-of-war camps, including a prominent one located right outside of Manehattan. The problem with such camps was that they could be difficult to watch o’er, and ‘twould be disastrous if they were taken by enemy forces. Such things were acceptable risks for the common soldier, but not so for our more valuable prisoners. There was also the issue of keeping dangerous prisoners, such as archmagi, under control.
Thus, the Ephorate had a unique solution.
The day after hearing my son’s proposal, I flew north of Manehattan with his sister. After a couple hours of flight, the two of us found a cloud the size of a large building floating over a small forest. As we approached, a trio of pegasi emerged from the cloud and banked around to fly alongside us.
“Ephor Swift Blade,” a light-gray coated mare said, saluting me. “Have you come see the prisoners, Ephor?”
I saluted back, noting the trio of scars that ran down her face—an injury from gryphon reivers. “I have, Warden Iron Cage. If thou wouldst show us the entrance?”
“Of course, Ephor.” She corrected her flight path and lead us into the cloud to reach a landing platform within.
While Cloud 327 had seemed ordinary from the outside, it had been carved out to create a series of rooms within. Pegasopolis’ prison for its more prestigious captives had a layer of thunderforged steel around it that had been covered by clouds to keep its nature hidden. It was also moved around each night to keep it from being easily noticed or targeted, with only the warden and the Ephorate knowing its planned locations. After all, ‘twas significantly more difficult to raid a target that one could not e’en find.
While Iron Cage spoke with one of her fellow guard about some matter of procedure, my daughter took the moment to lean in towards me. “Are you sure of this plan, Father? I am not sure it is well-advised.”
“I know what I am doing, daughter.” I motioned for her to settle. “Be at peace.”
“But what will the other Ephors think?” she pressed.
“Let me worry about that.” I wrapped a wing around my child to calm her. “This decision will be mine and mine alone. Concentrate on thy part in this, and all will be well.”
“Very well.” While she still did not seem comfortable with what I planned, she at least raised no more protests.
I addressed the warden as she approached us. “Is everything ready for me to enter?”
“‘Tis.” She nodded and led the way deeper into the complex, a squad of her fellow guardponies flanking us. “Might I ask whom you wish to see first, Ephor?”
“Hidden Facts,” I said simply.
Warden Iron raised an eyebrow at that. “The leader of those warlocks?”
I met her gaze evenly. “Aye. Is there a problem?”
“No, ephor.” Iron Cage led us to the part of the prison the contained our captives. I noticed that all the unicorns within also had inhibitor rings placed upon their horns. A necessary precaution with them, especially with more than one archmagus being held here. The guards still had to be cautious though; if the rumors were true, archmagi had managed to break or in some other way circumvent their inhibitor rings in the past.
Still, between the height, the guards, and the rings, Pegasopolis’ prison was nearly inescapable without outside help. Unless one considered a fatal fall to the ground an escape.
Our walk was interrupted when one of our captives yelled from his cell. “Ephor Swift Blade! I must protest the intolerable treatment I received!”
I stopped and turned to look at who had addressed me. At first, I did not recognize the stallion without his comically ornate finery. “Duke Polaris,” I said with a hint of amusement. “What is your protest?” Given the pony making the complaint, I doubted there was any real mistreatment going on, but it could not hurt to be sure. While the Sun Tyrant and her followers were our enemies, ‘twould not do to allow ourselves to fall into barbaric practices such as harming our prisoners without cause.
“Aye, I have several complaints to issue.” The Unicornian duke drew himself up straighter, mustering what dignity he could given the circumstances. “For one, I find the gruel they are feeding us quite unpalatable.”
I glanced at Warden Iron Cage out of the corner of my eye. “Warden, what hast thou been feeding our captives?”
“The same food I have been giving my own soldiers,” she was quick to reply. “I was instructed by Commander Rightly that the ponies entrusted to my care were to be as fairly treated as the situation deemed fit, and I have done my best to follow those orders.”
Duke Polaris snorted derisively. “You have heard of using flavoring, haven't you? Your cause cannot be in such poor shape that at least some salt and pepper cannot be provided.”
“I would not recommend giving them spices, Ephor.” Warden Iron glanced about at the neighboring cells. “I fear what some of the magi might be able to do with such things. We already have to be vigilant ‘gainst them trying to carve runes or use other forms of magic from within their cells as it is, and I do not want to give them components they might use. (1) In any event, we have not received much in the way of spices since I assumed command of this place, so ‘tis a bit of a moot point.”
1. To be fair, this is a somewhat legitimate worry. Salt and pepper both can be used for various spells, rituals, and potions . They would just be extremely difficult for a unicorn to use without direct access to their magic.
The duke sighed at Warden Iron’s report of the situation. “I suppose it would be pointless to press the point further?”
“I am afraid so, my dear duke,” I replied with some smug satisfaction. Though I might have to ask if Warden Iron had been having any other difficulties with supplies. Despite the shortage, undersupplying a high-security prison would be tremendously foolish. “Incidentally, I do advise against grating against your keepers o'erly so. They are more likely to treat you kindly if given kindness in return.”
“I am a gentlestallion of Unicornia,” he stated indignantly. “If I must be treated poorly, I shall endure it with dignity and grace.”
“Excellent. How soon will you start?” Duke Polaris’s only reply to my mocking query was to glower at me in silence. I returned an unconcerned smile. “If you have any complaints or that merit my attention, speak them now. Elsewise, I advise that you endure and enjoy being alive.” I leaned in to give him a toothy grin. “A great many ponies no longer have that privilege. Not after your defeat.”
To my surprise, the duke did not back down, but instead returned with his own smirk. “I have heard your rebellion suffered an even greater one. Is it true?”
The comment bit, but I was careful not to show my irritation. The Battle of Avalon Vale was but a setback, and one we can recover from in short order if I could secure the army’s supplies. Instead of losing my temper, I rolled my eyes dismissively. “Are you truly attempting to bait me? How droll.”
“I am simply making an inquiry,” he said with all the sincerity of a timberwolf sneaking its way into the sheep's pen.
“I am certain.” Not wishing to let Polaris strike with the last barb, I thought of a reply to harm his ego. “Whatever is the matter, my fair duke? Are you so eager to be exchanged?”
Polaris nodded stiffly. “‘Twould be expected if we took prisoners at the last battle. I am Unicornia’s Grand Vizier, and I would return to my queen’s service.”
“I am afraid that is no longer so.” I inspected my hoof with disinterest. “Queen Celestia wasted no time in declaring Sunbeam Sparkle as your replacement ‘pon your defeat.” I let that thought sink in for a moment, and the duke’s eyes narrowed at me. “And I do not think Sunbeam will make great strides towards arranging for your release. A pity for you; it seems this cell will be your home for quite some time.”
Stepping away from the cell, I moved to show my intent to move onward. “Now, if that is all...?”
“There is nothing else I wish to speak with you about,” Polaris said in a huff. He walked to his mattress and sat upon it. “You bore me. So away with you.”
With Duke Polaris’ ego now sorely wounded, I took the opportunity to move onwards. “Now then, warden, may I see Archmagus Hidden Facts?”
“Of course, Ephor.” Warden Iron led me further down the walkway. She stopped and nodded towards a cell. “The archmagus is in there.”
Archmagus Hidden Facts was a tall stallion with a gray coat and a two-toned yellow mane. Coming close to skeletally thin, he appeared to be almost entirely made up of bone and sinew, but stood with a sense of confident authority that had no doubt intimidated more than one magus apprentice in his time.
“You are Hidden Facts, aye?” I asked.
“Aye, that is me.” The Archmagus of the North March’s eyes looked me up and down, taking a measure of me. “Ephor Swift Blade, I presume?”
“That I am,” I said.
“So what brings you to my wonderful cell?” Archmagus Hidden said with more than a hint of amusement. “I was not aware I had an appointment.” He waved vaguely at the pony in the cell opposite his own, a stallion with a light-brown coat who seemed to be doing his best to stare holes right through Hidden. “Not that I do not mind some new company. I admit, most of my fellow guests do not seem to wish to speak with me. Is that not right, Copper?”
“There is nothing worth discussing with a warlock,” Copper said, vitriol dripping from his words.
Deciding it would be best to keep the two from getting into a war of words, I addressed Archmagus Hidden. “You were not captured as part of any Solar force, correct?”
“Neigh. I came to Commander Rightly's army in the hopes of being welcomed within his ranks.” Annoyance crept into his tone. “Instead his soldiers arrested me and my followers, and I was carted off to this very unique prison. An unfortunate mistake on his part.”
“‘Twas good he did arrest you.” Copper stood up from his cot to better address us. It seemed that the archmagus had recovered quite well from the wounds Lance had given him, though there was still a scar upon his throat, and he spoke with a rasp that I suspected had not been there prior to his wounding. “You would have brought nothing but pain and misery ‘pon everypony around you. At least here you can commit no more crimes, traitor.”
Archmagus Hidden’s mouth quirked into a grin, his fellow archmagus’ words having not distressed him in the least. “Do not mind him. Traitor, hah! I know not where he gets such ideas.”
Archmagus Copper fixed his counterpart with a menacing scowl. “Had we known the depths of thy corruption, we would have ended you.”
“Then ‘tis fortunate for me you never found out,” Hidden said mockingly. “And really, must you be so closed-minded? I think it has been a long time coming for us to change the old Laws of Magic. They were made by ponies centuries ago who were yet scared of long winters and windigoes and did not have our current understanding of the art. I believe we are more than enlightened enough now to expand beyond old rules and laws. And I hardly see myself as a traitor, for I know which monarch holds my loyalty—and ‘tis not Queen Celestia.”
The wording of Hidden’s statement caught my interest. I had been curious as to why the lunar cultists had contacted me. I had guessed that ‘twas because of the Sun Tyrant’s oppression of him and his fellows for their beliefs, but ‘twould be good to hear from the stallion’s motives from his own mouth. “Who, then? And speak quickly, I have little time to waste and many things to spend it on.”
He shook his head. “Who? Why, my heart is aligned with the Lunar cause and Queen Luna, Ephor. ‘Twas why I sent my messenger to inform you of where you could find Polaris' army was, and compromised his defenses. A very quick and decisive victory, I must say.”
“That is true.” It had been to my surprise when I had been contacted with the information on exactly where Duke Polaris’ army was and how best to strike his position. Such an unexpected and valuable boon had at first made me suspicious of Hidden’s intentions. ‘Twould not be the first time somepony had fallen upon some war-winning intelligence only to be tricked into an ambush. Though in the end it had proven to be true, resulting in Pegasopolis’ greatest victory of the war thus far. “It was why I argued against your imprisonment.”
“An unfortunate decision on your Commander’s part, I am afraid,” he said with sorrow, though I detected some anger in his tone too. Little surprise when he and his followers had been taken prisoner after helping us defeat a common foe. “I imagine your less than satisfactory performance during your last battle with the Solars would have gone quite differently if I and my followers had been there. Our magics would have been most useful to your cause.”
“That could be true,” I mused. Unicorn magic had certainly played its role in allowing the Solars to fight Commander Rightly’s army to a draw and destroy our supply wagons. We might very well have won that battle with the power and options the lunar cultists could have provided us, resulting in a much quicker end to the war. “Mayhaps your imprisonment is something we should correct?”
“Nothing good can come of consorting with warlocks, Ephor,” Copper warned. “They may use honeyed words and offer gifts, but ‘tis only to hide a forked tongue and hidden dagger.”
Hidden snorted at Copper’s remark. “He merely wishes to deny you and your fellow pegasi the valuable resources we would offer you. More enchanted gear, our esoteric knowledge, and the spells and rituals we could bring to bear could make the difference between victory and defeat. Or at the very least, ‘twould mean the difference between a long and bloody war and a swift and victorious one.”
“And what of the price?” Copper shook his head. “Too high, I say. One needs but to look at the history of warlocks to know that nothing but evil can come from consorting with him.”
“Do not be so dramatic, Archmagus,” Hidden said with an air of amused contempt. “‘Tis most unbecoming for a pony of your station.” His grin slowly widened to show some teeth. “And I imagine the Ephor will find the price I give him quite acceptable.”
“The one you are willing to tell the Ephor,” Copper mocked. “I know the way of your kind. You will say you have one goal, but that is only to make your victims complacent.”
Curious, I ignored the Solar Archmagus in favor of his counterpart “Speak thy price, then. If ‘tis within reason...”
Hidden nodded. “I merely ask that we work together to bring Queen Luna back from her exile and return her 'pon her rightful throne.”
I supposed it should not have been much of a surprise that a Lunar cult wished to free their mistress, and if ‘twas so, then we had much in common. “Commander Luna's return would be a boon to Pegasopolis, and all Equestria, and ‘twould bring about a swift and favorable end to the conflict.”
“So it would,” Hidden agreed. “The weak-willed fool who sits on the throne now will not be able to stand before her sister—not with the armies of Pegasopolis behind her. I am sure you can see all the advantages of having a strong, powerful queen and Commander leading Equestria once again?”
“So I can.” I considered the matter for a moment. “And so you would be willing to help me do whatever it took to win the war? I believe we could use your skills in the upcoming days.”
Hidden inclined his head respectfully. “I would be willing to help in whatever way you need, Ephor. My services are at your disposal.”
I nodded to Iron Cage. “Warden, if you would fetch the keys to open Archmagus Hidden Facts’ cell?”
“Do not do this!” Copper slammed his forehooves against the bars of his cell. “He will betray you! It is the very nature of warlocks!” He gave Hidden a death glare. “When we became magi, we all swore an oath. Not just to our queen, but a sacred promise to magic itself. You broke that oath. What loyalty can you offer?”
That was a legitimate question. A pony who had turned traitor once was capable of doing so again, though that seemed unlikely in this situation. I could not see Queen Celestia taking back a pony whose betrayal had slaughtered her army. Much less Sunbeam, given her previous actions towards warlocks. Hidden seemed more than intelligent enough to understand what his actions would mean for him should the Lunar cause fail, and he be captured.
There was also the fact I needed him. With neither resources, ponypower nor time, the Archmagus was likely my one opportunity to launch my coup. In any event, I could mitigate the risks. While Hidden could be a wily opponent, having managed to successfully betray Polaris’ army without anypony suspecting until too late, I could be more clever still. I would keep a close eye on him and watch for betrayal. If he proved to be too dangerous an ally, then he could be dealt with accordingly.
“I believe I can trust your former comrade, Archmagus Copper,” I stated. “He has already aided the Lunar cause in no small way. His actions speak of his motives.”
Hidden smiled. “Aye, so they do.”
The warden returned with the keys and motioned at the door. “Shall I, Ephor?”
I nodded to her. “Aye, go ahead.”
“Do not do this, Ephor.” Copper gave me a serious look, and I could see the desperation behind them. No doubt he saw the disaster this act would cause to his nation. I could hardly blame him from doing what he could for his nation and queen, e’en if he was a fool for supporting the Sun Tyrant. ‘Twas not his fault for being born a unicorn, and thus beholden to a monarch. “It will only end in misery. For all of us. You must believe me. You understand not what type of creature he is.”
I ignored Copper as the warden unlocked the door. Hidden stepped out, a pleased grin on his face. “My thanks, Ephor. I admit, my stay here was becoming quite tedious. Do you not think so, Copper?”
Copper glared balefully. “Mark my words, warlock. Your day will come.”
“Ignore him,” I said dismissively. “We have more important business. Let us take our leave.”
Hidden shot a nasty smirk at his fellow archmagus as we started walking back towards the entrance of the prison. “Do not worry, Copper, I will not forget you here. I am certain we will see one another soon enough.” Copper’s ears wilted in defeat as he watched us go.
I looked to my daughter when we neared the exit. “Skilled, please procure us a chariot so that we can take Hidden from here.”
“Of course, Father.” She dutifully trotted off, leaving me with my newfound ally.
I turned to the unicorn, speaking quietly enough so as to not be overheard. “There are some matters which I would speak with you about.”
Hidden rolled his neck, eliciting a pop. “That surprises me little, if the rumors I have heard are true. I suspect you have met with no small trouble if you have gone against Commander Rightly’s orders and sought my help.”
I grunted and decided not to talk over that specific point. I had not even asked Commander Bright’s permission to do what I was about to. I was depending on the Fourth Axiom, that the Commander in the field had the right to make decisions based on the situation before him to defend my actions when the time came. “‘Tis so, though we are far from the verge of defeat. We have merely suffered a setback. Something I hope to correct quickly with your help.”
“Of which there is much I can give.” He closed his eyes. “I have thought of several plans that I believe could help our cause and wish to discuss with you.”
I quirked an eyebrow. “‘Really? I see your mind is already at work.”
He chuckled. “My dear Ephor, it has been so all my life, especially as of late; I fear there is little else to do while in a cell.”
“I can imagine so,” I said. “We will talk of them in due time, but first I have a more immediate problem to deal with. One I think your talents will be most helpful in solving.”
Hidden’s eyes narrowed. “Is that so? Then pray tell, what is it that plagues your thoughts?”
I told him of my troubles with Provisional Chancellor Fair Deal and the army’s supply problem. From there, we planned.
The Provisional Earth Pony Government had been kind enough to give me a penthouse suite in one of Manehattan’s hotels to make it easier for us to meet, since ‘twould have been rather difficult for them to traverse the skies and clouds to otherwise speak with me. My accommodations contained enough finery that ‘twould not have been out of place in a unicorn noble’s manor. While I had little need of such superfluous luxury, I saw little reason to complain about the space I had been given. Especially when it mostly served as a working area for myself.
Apparently, it had been the same suite Apple Tree’s supporters had rented out for the late farmer-turned-politician during his ill-fated run for chancellor. From my desk, I could even see the patio from which Apple Tree had been thrown to his death. It made me wonder if the facilities had been given to me merely out of convenience or because somepony had hoped to send me some sort of message.
A week later, Fair Deal stepped into my office for a meeting. “Ephor Swift Blade, ‘tis good that we can meet again,” the chancellor said without any warmth. “We have some things I wished for us to speak about.”
“Aye, and much the same is true for myself.” Thankfully, it had not been too difficult to arrange a meeting between the two of us, outside of the time I had to wait to have the meeting. Though in this instance, the wait had played to my own plans. I pointed at one of the chairs opposite of me. “Please, be seated.”
Fair Deal sat and made himself comfortable. “I trust you have been well?”
“As well as could be expected,” I said, nodding. “I have of course been busy with running the war here within Manehattan. Yourself?”
“Much the same.” The Chancellor allowed his strong facade to wane in the privacy of our meeting, his shoulder slumping in weariness Taking a closer examination, I noted the bags under his eyes and the fatigue behind the confident air he held about himself. “Putting the Earth Pony Government back together in the middle of a civil war has not been an easy trial. ‘Tis a shame Apple Tree was murdered like he had been. Otherwise we might have avoided this whole mess to begin with.”
“Mayhaps,” I said neutrally. There seemed to be little reason to bring up how I had sent a message to Apple Tree stating that Pegasopolis would support him in his bid for power whate’er the actual results of the election might have been. The war probably would not have started when it did if not for Pegasopolis’ support for Apple Tree and his followers.
Though in truth, war had probably become inevitable the day Celestia was removed as Commander, at least if we wished to be free of tyranny and rule ourselves. As far as I was concerned, if the Queen of Unicornia was not removed from power completely, she would creep right back to complete sovereignty someday. It might have taken centuries, but an immortal had all the time in the world to scheme.
Instead of giving voice to such thoughts, I steered the conversation to a more social topic. “How fares your family?”
A smile that I readily recognized as paternal pride worked its way onto his features. “They are doing well. Everypony is getting used to moving into the Chancellor’s Residence. Thank you for asking. How fares your own?”
“They are all safe and healthy,” I said. “As much as they can be considering the war, in any event. Quick has been helping me here in Manehattan while my eldest, Elegant, is still serving in the hetairoi . Quick is of course trying to get the Free Earth Pony Army onto its hooves.”
Something imperceptible flashed behind the Chancellor’s eyes. “Aye, about that matter, if you do not mind us moving onto business?”
I inclined my head in agreement. “We may do so.”
“Good.” The stallion’s tone became more serious. “I wanted to inform you that the Earth Pony Government will now be taking a larger role in the war. We have had time to establish ourselves now, and wish to do our part.”
“Verily?” That statement gave me a spark of hope that our earth pony cousins would do their duty in this war, but I reminded myself to be cautious. The Chancellor could have meant many things. “How do you plan on making this contribution?”
“For one, I am pushing Parliament to pass a law officially instating the Free Earth Pony Army for the duration of the war.” Fair Deal gave me a pleased smile. “I thank you for our efforts to put together an army with which to defend ourselves, both from the Solar militia and Unicornia, but my cabinet and I agree that the new army would be best served under earth pony control.”
I did not like the sound of this proposal. I had no confidence in Fair Deal being able to organize or lead an army. Such things should be left to the pegasi, not farmers and merchants. Let the warriors attend to war, as is their place. I could not say that outright, though—not when the Chancellor was being polite. No, I would have to take a different approach. “I think that would be unwise at the moment,” I said diplomatically. “Progress has been slow building the army. We have lacked in recruits thus far, they are not properly equipped yet, and the earth ponies do not know the ways of war. Not like we pegasi do. ‘Tis too soon for them to be fighting without our guardianship to show them the way to victory.”
Fair Deal’s body stiffened. “I respectfully disagree, Ephor. To be frank, I think the slow recruitment you have experienced is because ‘twas not earth ponies recruiting them. I am certain that my own contacts within the Solar earth pony communities will have far better fortune in rallying earth ponies to the flag. My fellow earth ponies are far more likely to listen to their own kin and villagers than they are some pegasus they know nothing about. I suspect the reason you have not been able to convince ponies to open their armories is much the same.”
Curses, I did not have an easy counter for that argument. ‘Twas true that an army was no army if it did not have sufficient bodies and equipment. Still, there was another way to turn this argument around. “But there is still the fact that the earth ponies are neophytes in war, Chancellor. You have no experienced sergeants nor officers who know how to manage an army.”
The chancellor considered the problem for a moment before answering. “That may be true, but who have you put in charge of the army? Your own daughter, neigh?”
“Aye, I have put her in command,” I said cautiously, feeling some sort of trap forming around me.
I saw the confidence building within Fair Deal. “Tell me, within Pegasopolis, would she be considered old and experienced enough to lead an army in the thousands? Like the one we are trying to put together now?”
“Not under ordinary circumstances, but—”
He spoke over me, making me feel like I was naught but some witness in one of his earth pony courts that he was browbeating into submission. “Then ‘twould hardly be appropriate for her to lead this army. Especially an army of raw recruits in need of experienced leaders. And I doubt there is any other pegasus of greater experience ready to take over the position, since I imagine any such pegasi would be stationed near the front lines.” He grinned at me. “Such is your way, is it not?”
I felt myself glowering at the stallion despite my attempts to control my emotions. He had insulted my daughter’s ability. Likely he had also intended a jab at my own person o’er the fact that I was not leading from the front, but I could not dispute his claims.
The chancellor continued speaking ere I could formulate a rebuttal. “Meanwhile, there are earth ponies who have been in fights before, either with monsters on the frontiers, with reivers, or recently ‘gainst the Solar militias. Not to mention there are many earth ponies who are used to positions of leadership—mayors, militia captains, or ponies running their own businesses. And you cannot say that earth ponies cannot fight. Way I have heard it, some gardener earth pony from Canterlot managed to lead a whole group of earth ponies to fight you to a standstill.”
I opened my mouth to speak a protest, but the Chancellor spoke over me once more. “I fully intend to set up committees who will select the best ponies from ‘mongst the recruits. I do not intend for anypony to be put in charge of my fellow earth ponies only for their political influence.”
It seemed that my counterpart had put some thought into his arguments before meeting with me. I admit, I could not think of a reason that would dissuade him from his course. “Very well then,” I said grudgingly. “Do what you feel is best for now.” He may have won this minor round of our verbal joust, but this game had been rigged from the start. “What else did you wish to discuss?”
I could feel the smug satisfaction come off Fair Deal as he grinned. “The second thing I wanted to go over was the situation with the rainwater.”
I had received word that Bright was using rain in an attempt to wear down the shield over Canterlot, and had thought little of the measure while Bright reorganized the army. “What about the rainwater, Chancellor?” I had hoped to discuss the matter of supplying Pegasopolis’ armies first, but I saw little reason not to hear him out on this.
“Commander Bright has been draining our water reserves to use against Canterlot.” The displeasure in Fair Deal’s tone was clear. “I do not know what crazy plan you have that makes you think that raining on Canterlot will make Queen Celestia surrender, but ‘tis making a lot of farmers worried that there is not going to be enough rain left afterwards to water their fields. The ponies along the river that flows out of the mountain are worried about there being a flood. A lot of ponies could lose their homes or even be killed if you use too much water.”
“I am sure the Commander has left enough water to prevent a drought,” I assured him. At least, I hoped that was so. Not having met Bright in person since the last battle, I was not exactly sure what her frame of mind was. It was possible she had let her rage consume her and was only thinking of defeating Celestia and freeing Rightly. “And I will send a letter to her to express your worries about flooding.” It seemed worthwhile to remind Bright of her duties to the earth ponies, even if winning the war was our primary concern. Winning the war only to cause a famine would hardly help Pegasopolis’ cause in the long term.
“That is acceptable, though I plan on sending my own letter as well.” Fair Deal sat back, though he still held himself in a resolute manner. “The next thing I wanted to talk to you about was the supply issue you brought up in our last ... meeting.”
“Ah, yes. That .” I tried to keep any tension out of my voice as the topic turned to the issue I wished to speak of most. “No doubt you have heard about the last battle outside of Canterlot?”
Fair Deal nodded. “I have. The loss of your supply wagons was unfortunate to our cause. Hence why I sat down with my cabinet to come up with an acceptable way for us to supply the army so that they can take Canterlot.”
I leaned back in my chair, now curious about what solution Fair Deal and his cronies might have discovered. I waved for him to continue. Somehow, I doubted it would be an answer I would like, but I might benefit from at least hearing it. If not... “Go on, then. What did you and your cabinet decide upon?”
The chancellor put on a wolfish grin. “‘Tis quite simple, really. You need supplies, and I want to deal with the magnates once and for all. So here is my proposal: you and your warriors help me seize the magnates’ property, and in return, Pegasopolis receives a percentage of the seized goods to help you fight the war.”
That proposal made me sit back in my cushion. ‘Twas not one I had expected at all. I had to admit, it would at least help with our current supply problems. Though that was only my first reaction to the proposal; there were deeper implications to consider. Fair Deal intended to have the noble warriors of Pegasopolis act as little more than enforcers for his political policies. I found that intolerable. We were not mere tools for the earth pony’s political games; we defended Equestria from its enemies, not acted as common thugs used to take the property of one pony to give to another.
I leaned forward, giving Fair Deal a firm look. “I do not find this proposal to be acceptable, Chancellor. Our warriors are not to be used in such a manner. Whate’er your differences with the magnates, ‘tis not our responsibility to resolve them. Certainly not in the way you propose.”
Fair Deal’s demeanor became more frigid as he stared at me. “Then I am afraid that I will have to fall back onto another plan my cabinet and I discussed.”
The way the chancellor said that sounded far too ominous for comfort. “And what is that plan?”
“‘Tis quite simple, Ephor.” He drew himself up to add weight to his statement. “If you and your fellow Ephors will not be reasonable and accept my proposal that will allow you to continue the war, then I fully intend to make a separate peace with Queen Celestia.”
“What!?” I stood up, bumping into my desk in my haste. The sting of the blow was barely felt beneath the shock of what the Chancellor had told me. “What madness do you speak of?!”
If he was disturbed by my loss of composure, he did not show it as he spoke levelly to me. “‘Tis not madness. ‘Tis quite logical, really. Without the supplies the earth ponies offer, you cannot win this war, and I have no intention in seeing my government and my policies go down in defeat with you.”
“T-this is treason! ” I sputtered.
Fair Deal met my eyes squarely. “As Chancellor, my first duty is to my fellow earth ponies, Ephor. For too long they have been oppressed by the magnates, breaking their backs for scraps. In truth, I care little if Queen Celestia keeps her crown. She is no longer Chancellor, and she cannot force us to accept her.” He brushed some speck of dirt off his jacket, as though I were of little interest to him. “And from what I hear, she is as sick of this war as anypony. Right now, the war is at a precarious juncture. Unicornia is sitting on the edge of disaster while Pegasopolis cannot press their advantage. Peace is in high demand by many, and I can sell it for a high price to the queen. In exchange for her recognizing my government and revoking her claim on the Chancellorship, I will effectively end this war.” He fixed me with a stern gaze. “Thus I will give myself the breathing room I need to enact my policies and bring equality and freedom to the earth ponies.”
I was all but flabbergasted by the earth pony before me. I could see the Lunar cause falling apart, and all because one madly stubborn earth pony could not see beyond his own stupid struggle with the magnates. He was serious about his proposal, too. Anypony that looked into his eyes could see that.
“So what say you, Ephor?” Fair Deal asked. “Do you accept or reject my offer?” He grinned triumphantly. “Or do you wish to speak with your new Commander about this? I can understand if you need some time to see the right course of action.”
“Neigh, I need no time to make my decision, Chancellor .” I could feel myself shaking with rage. “I thou thee, Fair Deal! Thou art a reprehensible pony. Thou wouldst insult us and fail in thy duties to thy cousin pegasi. Thou wouldst turn on thy allies, the very ones who put you into power to begin with and betray our cause. I refuse to be allied with thee anymore”
The stallion stood and looked at me with contempt. “If that is your answer, then so be it. Though to be fair to your nation, I will send a messenger to Commander Bright Charger to clarify on Pegasopolis’ position lest you make a fool of us all.”
“There is no need.” I moved around the desk to face a pony I had determined to be mine enemy. “For I have a plan that makes thy help obsolete. Archmagus Hidden Facts!”
Fair Deal barely had time to give me a look of confusion before a red beam of magic shot out from seemingly thin air to strike the Chancellor upon the head. He let out a howl of agony as the beam, pouring ever on, drove him to the ground. The magical veil Hidden Facts hid behind slowly dissipated, revealing the archmagus as the source of the spell that had smitten Fair Deal.
“Good, Archmagus,” I said, pleased at seeing the Chancellor’s pain. “And nopony will hear what transpires in this room?”
“Neigh,” Hidden said dispassionately, his full concentration on Fair Deal and maintaining his spell. “My silence spell is more than equal to the task.”
I nodded, feeling my nervousness and choler slowly subsiding. My loss of composure was beneath a pony of my station, but I could hardly be blamed after dealing with such an infuriating individual. “Now then, he will be under your control Archmagus.”
“Aye.” The beam connecting his horn to Fair Deal’s head ceased. The stallion stared dully at nothing, groaning in discomfort. “Though there are limits. Many things can run afoul with a mind control spell. This pony has a surprisingly strong will, so the spell will not last forever. Either he will destroy his psyche fighting my spell, break free of it, or kill himself in order to disobey the orders I give him. Though those should only be worries over the long term. In the short term, the spell is more than adequate for our purposes—especially considering I can watch over him as we complete our plan. The only risk would be if I gave him an order he would consider atrocious. Killing his family, for instance. But we will refrain from any such thing, so ‘tis not a worry.”
“Very well then.” I pulled out a scroll from within my desk and unrolled it on the desk. “Now then, Chancellor. If thou wouldst sign this document inviting the ponies of thy government to a meeting?” I grinned down at him. “There is something I wish to make plain to them all.”
“Do as he commands,” Hidden said firmly to his thrall.
Fair Deal stumbled to his hooves and stepped over to the desk to sign the document.
“My thanks, Chancellor.” I rolled up the scroll, satisfied with my victory over Fair Deal. “I think we have finally reached an accord.”
The next night, I watched as the last of the ponies of the Provisional Earth Pony Government filed into the Manehattan Grand Ballroom from the roof of a nearby building. The ballroom was a large building, made of brick, mortar, and wood. It had been built several centuries ago with the simple utility common to many of the buildings in Manehattan, lacking in the grandeur and decoration of more modern buildings intended to serve the masses. Such things mattered little to me. The building would serve well enough for my purposes.
Quick Blade glided down to land next to me, giving me a quick salute that I returned. “Father, everything that you asked of me is done.”
“Good, and there were no troubles?” I asked, turning away from the ballroom for the moment.
“Nothing that could not be dealt with,” he said firmly.
“Then all is well.” I turned to face Skilled, who stood on the opposite side of me. “And thy warriors are ready to carry out their duties, my daughter?”
There was the briefest hesitation as she spoke. “Aye, they are ready. Though you have not said what is expected of us as of yet.”
I placed a hoof on her shoulder to calm her. “‘Twill come in time. They need only be ready for now.” It had been necessary to keep as much about my plan secret as possible to prevent anypony from suspecting my true intentions. After committing so deeply to my conspiracy, ‘twould only invite disaster for a misspoken word to come to the wrong pony. While I trusted my children, they in turn would be tempted to tell their subordinates of what we were about to do, and they their own subordinates. Neigh, the fewer ponies that knew a secret, the better.
Skilled gave me a long look before nodding. “Of course, Father.”
My children addressed, I walked over to where Archmagus Hidden Facts sat in concentration. He had placed himself at the center of a magic circle made of powders I was not familiar with. Candles placed around the circle were lit, and I had to be careful not to disrupt any of the arcane symbols written upon the roof. The runes glowed with a red light that pulsed with a life of its own. Several of Hidden’s fellow warlocks milled about the roof, chanting and casting spells whose exact purposes I did not know while some of my bondsponies watched them warily. The task had been made easier by the fact that they had been isolated from the other prisoners we had collected during the war. It had been simple enough to convince Rightly to do that much, as many of their fellow prisoners probably would not have hesitated to kill the warlocks when the guards were not watching.
I cleared my throat to gain Hidden’s attention. “How fares your spell?”
“Almost ready,” he said calmly, not even opening his eyes to address me. “The runes and traps are ready, and we have but to wait for everypony to finish entering.” He rolled his shoulders, no doubt stiff from sitting almost perfectly still for so long. “Almost everypony is inside. Patience, Ephor. I am carefully watching over the building with my divination spells; I will strike when the timing is right.”
“Aye, of course. Tell me when to begin.” As with most ponies, I did not enjoy waiting. Not when I was ready to proceed and there was much to fret about. There were any number of things that could go wrong with my plan, things I had little to no control of. I could only hope that the winds of fate were in my favor.
At least Hidden Facts’ mind control spell seemed to be working as intended. Like an obedient soldier, Fair Deal had done his work to collect his cabinet, members of Parliament, and various political supporters and friends to the ballroom for this night, supposedly under the auspice of some grand and important announcement he was to make. Under Hidden’s advice, I had even allowed Fair Deal to hint that his upcoming announcement was over the seizure of the magnates’ property—a subject that would no doubt excite his supporters. Fortune seemed to smile upon me, for the earth ponies gathering seemed to be in the hundreds. I doubted all that I desired would come, but I had contingencies for that also.
After waiting another hour, I heard Archmagus Hidden call out for me. I made my way over to him. “‘Tis time?” I asked.
Hidden’s horn was glowing, and the magic circle and rune glowed and throbbed with ever greater intensity. “Aye, everypony seems to be inside. I will give it a few minutes to allow them to settle. ‘Twould be best for everypony to become bored and complacent ere I unleash my spellwork.”
“I agree, but do not waste too much time,” I said. “I would not snatch defeat from the jaws of victory.”
“I will not.” His horned glowed greater still, and the very air hummed with the energies of his magic. “Go and watch the ballroom if you wish. It should be quite the sight to see.”
“Aye, I think I will do so.” I stepped back over to the edge of the roof overwatching the ballroom. My children were waiting there, speaking quietly to one another, and I noted the glances they shot in my direction. No doubt the two of them were attempting to divine my intentions. Given what they knew, I would not be surprised if at least one of them had figured it out.
The ballroom held my attention. Though I knew what was to come, I felt ‘twas my duty to see this to the end. Without preamble, magical runes and spells worked into the doors of the ballroom all activated simultaneously and closed, their locks magically engaging, and the spells holding them fast against anypony inside.
That was when the inside of the building erupted into fire. Magical runes of fire meticulously placed and hidden with illusions throughout the building had activated, turning the building into an inferno. ‘Twas not more than a couple seconds before the screams started.
Everypony watched in rapt attention for a time as the ballroom and the ponies within burned. I watched most intently of all, for this was my work, my plan, my accomplishment, my responsibility. I could not claim this was a good thing I had done, but ‘twas my duty as Ephor to do whatever was necessary for my fellow pegasi. E’en if it meant doing terrible things.
“F-father,” Skilled said, stunned horror dancing over her features. “This is your design?” She said the words as though she could not believe them.
“Aye,” I said, making sure to sound calm and stoic as the screams picked up in intensity. No doubt those who had survived the initial explosions were desperately attempting to break the doors down, though Hidden had assured me that they would not be breached until long after the fire had done its terrible work. The windows were too high to be easily reached, and had been trapped regardless. Neigh, there was no escape. Mayhaps if my fellow pegasi quickly responded they could do something about the fire and perhaps save a few, but that would not happen. Not when all the pegasi around the city were on standby and soon to be occupied with other duties.
Skilled looked back and forth between me and the ballroom. “What have you done? This is terrible! There were hundreds in there! Surely they did not need to die so horribly!”
“I am afraid they did, daughter.” I faced her properly. “Fair Deal and his ilk were a threat to our cause and to all of Pegasopolis. Slaying Fair Deal alone would only have turned him into a martyr, and would only have resulted in yet another pony like him rising to power. Much the same would have happened if only his inner circle were slain. Neigh, this cancer needed to be completely eradicated from the body.” I waved at the inferno. “And we could not do this task with just blade and steel, for if the earth ponies discover what we have done, they would turn ‘gainst us, and we would lose this war.” I shook my head. “I suspect that they will be better off being ruled by the bureaucrats ‘mongst their number than a bunch of politicians who must abide by the whims of the mob. I already have several in mind who can make up the cabinet, and should be far more pliable to my desires.” (2)
2. Indeed, Swift Blade would end up helping install Tax Deed as the new Provisional Chancellor. It seems Swift had taken special pains to make sure that ponies in the earth pony government bureaucracy were not at the ballroom, even to the point of kidnapping key individuals such as Tax Deed.
“So instead we burned them all alive,” Skilled said bitterly.
I met my daughter’s eyes, unflinchingly. “Aye, so I burned them alive. All of them. For Pegasopolis. So that we may win this war.” I turned away from her. “This sin is my own, daughter. I was the one who ordered this, so do not feel responsible. Instead concentrate on thy duties.”
“And those are?” she spat.
I had underestimated my daughter’s choler opinion on the matter. I had intended for her to do one thing, but decided her brother, who had remained silent thus far, would be better for that task. “Be sure the fire does not spread, and do what thou canst to keep order in the street. I would prefer if the city did not become riotous again. Organize the militia and take charge of them if thou canst. Take only who is needed for the task. Thy brother will need the rest.”
Skilled seemed ready to argue further, but restrained herself. Barely. “Very well, Father.” She said no more as she shot off the rooftop and into the night. Some part of me knew she would never see her beloved father the same way again.
Quick cast his eyes down when I turned to him next. “And your task for me?” There was no enthusiasm in his tone.
I pulled out a scroll and gave it to him. “That is a list of all the ponies who should have been in the ballroom. Take what soldiers thy sister left, confirm who was at the ballroom, and arrest any who were not on suspicion of treason.”
My son gave me a cautious look. “Are we to execute them?”
“I do not think that necessary.” I let out a long sigh. This night was quickly draining me of my vigor. “We will hold them for a time, first on suspicion of treason, and then say ‘tis for their safety once it has been confirmed that they are law-abiding ponies.” I waved at the fire. “After all, if somepony was willing to go to these lengths, who is to say they will not seek to kill those that remain? For our purposes, we need only hold them for the war. Once victory is at hoof, we can allow the earth ponies to have another of their elections.”
“I see,” Quick said with reservation. “Ponies will seek answers for such a terrible thing.”
I shrugged. The screams seemed to be dying down. Little surprise when the heat from the inferno left the walls on the brink collapsing. “So they will. I will allow the earth ponies to investigate as they desire, at least as long as they do not come too close to the truth. If they discover that magic was involved in this travesty, well... The Archmagus of Canterlot is an infamous pyromancer known for terrible acts in the name of her queen, is she not?”
Quick swallowed as he digested that thought. “Aye, ‘tis so.” He shuffled hesitantly. “I will do as you order. Though this might take some time to complete.”
“Be thorough in thy task.” Better to be sure the job was done right than done quickly in this case.
“I will.” He stepped to the edge of the roof but stopped to look back at me. “There were other ways, Father.” With that, he departed from the rooftop, and I could not muster the energy to reply to him at that moment.
That left me alone with the warlocks and my bondponies. I continued to watch the fire, seeing little else to do now that I had issued all the orders I needed to. I almost did not notice when Hidden Facts stepped up next to me.
“You approve of my work?” he asked.
“It did as we designed, so yes.” I glanced at the archmagus. He seemed more skeletal than he had before, with his skin now clinging to his skull more than over. A side effect of the magics he had used, perhaps?
“Good.” Hidden rolled his neck to pop it. “Though I think there is more work to be done to win this war.”
“‘Tis so.” I sighed, not particularly feeling like discussing more of the war at that moment.
“Now that I have proved my worth, I hope you will introduce me to your Commander.” The edges of his mouth turned up into a grin. “No doubt she is planning how she will lay siege to Canterlot, and I desire to be there to give what aid I can.”
“I will make plans for it.” The issue seemed done, but I could not take my eyes away as the roof collapsed. “I think she will be more likely to accept your help than Commander Rightly. Especially considering the role magic had in the last battle.”
“True.” A grin worked its way onto his lips. “Mayhaps I could give her a bit of a peace offering? I have heard of her eldest daughter, Lance, and of her recent accomplishments. The defeat of an archmagus is no small feat, as was nearly capturing Shadow herself. I could help enchant some new arms and armor for her. No doubt a warrior like Bright would appreciate such a gesture.”
“Aye, probably.” I rubbed at my forehead, trying to pull myself out of melancholy. “I will need to tell the Commander what has happened here soon, in any event. I can introduce you two then.”
“Excellent.” He stretched and I heard his joints pop after so many hours of stillness. “There is a matter I wish to bring before her that could help win this war in a single stroke.”
That caused me to raise an eyebrow. “Oh, you have a means to do so?”
Hidden nodded. “Aye. For you see, Queen Luna is indeed alive and well ‘pon the moon, Ephor. That I guarantee you, for I have spoken with our rightful sovereign.”
I nearly jerked upon hearing that news. “That is fortunate news indeed! I had worried her sister had slain her and hidden her foul crime.”
“Neigh, her sister was far too powerful for Queen Celestia to slay outright.” He looked up to stare at the moon. The smoke of the fire partially obscured it, but the outline of the Mare in the Moon was quite clear. “And she has told me of a means by which to free her.”
I turned to face Hidden, my wings flicking with agitation and energy that I had not felt but moments before. “Is that so? I had worried that only her sister was capable of such a feat.”
“‘Twill not be easy, but it can be done,” he said calmly. “Tell me, what do you know of Archmagus Sunbeam Sparkle’s daughter?”
My head tilted, confused by the question. “Not much, I admit. I think I spoke a couple words with her and her mother when they were in Cloudsdale before the war, but that is it.” In truth, a few words with Sunbeam’s ill-fortuned and morbid child were more than enough, and the her smile did not even bear mentioning. Midnight had hardly seemed remarkable except for her peculiarities and for being her mother’s daughter.
“That does not surprise me.” Hidden Facts drew his cloak close around him. “Let me tell you a story. On the night of the winter solstice ten years ago, on the hundredth anniversary of the exile of our true queen...”
I approached Gale’s quarters in our new clanhold with considerable trepidation. We’d not spoken to one another since receiving the news of Cyclone’s death. In truth, I feared to confront her after how badly she had taken it. Much as I wished to see the rift between us repaired, I worried that efforts might only worsen it further. I had already lost a father to this damnable war; I did not wish to lose a daughter to it as well.
I knocked at her door, but she did not answer. I considered leaving the matter there, but I heard her within, and I was not so fearful that I would flee rather than face her. I entered her rooms and found her hard at work o’er a pile of papers spread upon a table, no doubt checking reports from her agents. I was surprised to note she had acquired one of the silken cushions unicorns often sat upon, though I supposed cold stone floors were far less comfortable than the clouds of Pegasopolis. She was either too focused ‘pon her task to note when I entered or simply chose not to acknowledge me. I suspect ‘twas the latter. “Gale.”
My daughter still did not look up from her work, which answered my question. Once ‘twas clear that I would not simply turn about and leave if she ignored me, she reluctantly set her papers aside. “Materfamilias. Was there something you needed?” She spoke with distant, detached professionalism, her voice utterly devoid of the warmth and affection it normally carried for me. I suppose I could at least take solace in the fact that she was not calling me by my name. ‘Twould have been a cruelly fitting response to mine own actions towards Cyclone.
Rather than linger on such unpleasantness, I took the opportunity to turn our conversation to other matters. We could discuss our familial troubles after tending to the war. Or mayhaps I simply told myself as much to avoid such a difficult and unpleasant discussion. “The preparations for the prisoner exchange are completed?”
Gale briefly glowered at me before averting her gaze once more. “Aye, I have done as you required of me, materfamilias . I spoke with Commander Bright Charger under a flag of truce to work out the details.”
“Ephor Charger,” I corrected ere I could think better of it. My daughter’s answering glare spoke plainly of her contempt, and I struggled to amend my blunder. “Well done, then. I am pleased to hear it.” Her annoyance remained quite untouched by mine attempt to win her o’er with fine words. I suppose ‘twould simply have to wait until a better opportunity to offer an olive branch arose. “I trust it went well?”
My daughter remained silent long enough that I wondered if she intended to remain silent simply to spite me. I was about to repeat my question when she finally answered me. “It went as well as could be expected. Sunbeam’s own negotiators had already decided who would be traded for whom, so all that was left was for us to agree on the other details. Bright did attempt to persuade me to join the rebels.” She let that thought hang in the air. “Howe’er, I know of my duty to my kin. Unlike some, I would not abandon them or cast them aside simply because I disagree with their actions or beliefs.”
I let the barb pass unremarked, though it rankled me to do so. Another quarrel with my daughter would do little to heal the breach between us. I suspect she deliberately sought to rile my temper, if only so she would have an excuse to vent her spleen at me. Though ‘twas not how I would normally conduct myself, I patiently endured and ignored the remarks. My pride could survive a few wounds if that was what regaining my daughter required. “Thou hast always done well by our clan. I have ne'er had cause to question thine abilities nor thy loyalty. I take it the exchange will follow the standard procedure? (1) Where will we meet?”
1: Standard procedure for prisoner exchanges in Pegasopolis was for both sides to meet in a relatively neutral location, with the armies remaining in open sight and far enough away that they couldn’t launch a sneak attack or use any ranged weapons. From there, one envoy from each side would bring out their prisoners, the two would meet in between the two armies, and the exchange would be made.
“Aye.” Gale nodded, the action sharp and curt. “Other than increasing the distance ‘tween our armies to account for spells, we saw no reason to break from tradition for the trade. There is a small island in the river that should serve well enough for the exchange, with our armies parked upon opposite banks of it. The river is quite swollen from the recent rains and should be barrier enough for us.”
I could not help but think that the river would prove a far less formidable barrier to pegasi than it would to our own forces, save for my clanmates. I briefly wondered if Gale might have negotiated less than favorable terms for us simply to spite me. Moments after the idea sprang forth, I regretted it. Such a thought was unworthy of me, and I did my best to remove it from my mind ere it shamed me further. Instead, I turned to other matters regarding the exchange. “Did they name a preference regarding who should escort Rightly, or give any indication who would bring Copper and…?” I paused, struggling to recall the name of the other pony included in the exchange. Sunbeam had named him in the briefing she’d given the day I learned of Cyclone’s death. “The other magus?” I concluded.
“Archmagus Piercing Cry,” Gale supplied, seeming to take vindictive pleasure in my failure to recall his name. “As for the exchange, they stated no preference beyond the fact that it be a pegasus or an earth pony, in order to avoid any concerns of deception through magic. Also, Bright was quite emphatic that the Grand Vizier not be present.”
“I am unsurprised by that condition.” I thought back to the discussion I had with the Archmagus of Canterlot earlier that same day. “Sunbeam has already broached the topic of deception and treachery in the exchange. Surprisingly, she was against it. While 'tis always a temptation to take one's own prisoners back whilst returning nothing, Rightly has little value to us save as an exchange piece. Retaining him is not worth losing the ability to make any future trades should the need arise.”
“She may be treacherous, but she is no fool.” Gale directed a glare out her window, in the general direction of the palace. “Let us hope the rebels feel the same. They have more to gain from breaking the trade—though both are valuable assets to their armies, ephors are more easily replaced than archmagi. Archmagus Sparkle informed me that Copper was the most powerful and experienced of her peers.” My daughter rolled her eyes as she amended her words. “Though she rated his skills below her own, of course.”
In fairness to Sunbeam, Copper had confessed to me that Sunbeam was his better. Though I was far from an expert on magical affairs, her performance at Avalon Vale had been most impressive, and she had shown a considerable breadth of talent. Howe’er, I saw little point in debating the matter with Gale, especially as neither of us had experience enough in the matter to offer more than anecdotes. Instead, I focused on the matter before us. “Dost thou know who they will send to guard Copper and Piercing Cry? I had thought to take charge of Rightly myself.”
“I suspected that would be the case and mentioned as much to the rebels.” A faint frown crossed Gale’s face, and for the briefest of moments, concern flashed in her eyes. “As for the rebels, Bright has informed me that she would entrust her daughter, Lance, with the task of guarding the magi. A choice she seemed all the surer of, once I confirmed that you would likely wish to bring Rightly yourself.”
That news was not especially welcome. Though I suppose ‘twas small surprise; ‘twas only proper that the captain of the hetairoi be the one to retrieve their false commander. All the more fitting when she had previously beaten Copper in a duel and would have outmatched me as well were it not for Sunbeam’s intervention. My pride stung by the reminder of my near-defeat, I struggled to find something positive in the choice. “’Tis unlikely we will be faced with betrayal, then. What I have seen of the mare and heard of her reputation indicates she will brook no skullduggery.”
“Mine own findings would agree with that.” She leaned away from the table, groaning and rubbing her eyes. “I noted that the rebels seem to think highly of her while I was within their camp. 'Twould seem she is a rising star among their ranks. She is one I would be wary of during the upcoming siege, given the accomplishments to her name.” The barest hint of a smirk crossed my daughter’s face as she continued. “Especially considering nopony has proven her equal on the field in one-on-one combat. Not e’en you. If I had to hazard a guess, Sunbeam may be the only one amongst our number capable of foiling her.”
I bristled at the reminder of mine own defeat. Were it not for my recent rapprochement with the Archmagus, my pride would have been far more badly stung by the implication that she might succeed where I had failed. Though given the strange resilience Lance had shown to magical attack, I judged that unlikely. “If there is treachery, we may yet have a chance to learn whether Lance is better than I. If we meet in battle again, I will not be denied my blades.”
My daughter’s brow knit in confusion. “You would speak of treachery when moments earlier you stated that Lance would not countenance it?” She shook her head sharply. “And I do not think Bright likely to be so duplicitous either. She is too direct a mare and knows how much Rightly and her daughter value their honor. I think ‘tween the two of them, Lance and Rightly might well do something truly bullheaded if Bright e’en attempted trickery.”
It briefly occurred to me that, under those circumstances, it might be in our best interests to arrange seeming rebel trickery. I could easily see Rightly refusing to the return to the rebel camp if he believed they had resorted to foul methods to free him. Howe’er, ‘twas only a passing thought; I would ne’er lower myself to such an act. Besides which, Sunbeam would likely point out the many practical difficulties of arranging such a deception on short notice. “I do not deny that Lance, Rightly, and Bright are honest ponies. Howe’er, they are only three ponies amongst an entire army of rebels. And e’en they may well fear a scheme from Sunbeam and take aggressive measures in an attempt to preempt it.”
Gale shifted the papers about on her table, stacking them neatly. “Aye, mayhaps.” She tapped a hoof ‘gainst her chin as she considered the matter. “I cannot deny that some of them are less trustworthy than others. Both Sunbeam and I are of like mind that Ephor Swift Blade is to be treated with caution, for instance.”
Ah yes, the Ephorate’s final member, notable at Avalon Vale only by his absence. “I agree on that point. He has always believed himself quite a bit cleverer than he truly is, and he relies upon a certain low cunning to substitute for his lacking martial skills. 'Tis fortunate he is in Manehatten.”
“Not so fortunate, I think.” Gale looked up, meeting yes with a pensive frown. “I heard news in the rebel camp about some recent events in Manehatten. The rebels tried to conceal it, but...” A faint smirk crossed my daughter’s face, Keeping secrets from her had always been difficult. ‘Twas one of the things that drew her to my attention to begin with.
“What news?” I demanded, my mind now fully focused on the war effort rather than my own familial concerns. “And why am I just now learning of it? I should have been told at once if something had happened.”
“I have not yet been able to confirm it through mine own sources,” she answered hastily. “For all I know, it could have been some elaborate deception. I thought not to waste your time on such things.” I wondered if that was the true reason behind it, or if she had simply not wanted to speak with me and used that as an excuse. If so, it put the problems ‘tween us in a much more worrying light. Bad enough for a mother to not be on speaking terms with her daughter, but a general who could not speak with her spymaster was no longer a mere personal matter.
Gale must have guessed at the reasons for my silence, for she refused to meet my gaze, instead tending to her papers once more despite them already being in good order. She quickly gathered herself and explained the situation. “I believe the news was fresh in the rebel camp when I arrived for the negotiations. I cannot be sure if such whisperings are well-founded or mere gossip. My contacts are well-placed, but e’en I cannot read the ephors’ mail ere they have seen it. Though I am hopeful I might yet manage that feat.” A hint of my daughter’s usual manner asserted itself in the teasing smirk that danced across her lips.
Sadly, her light mood lasted only a few passing moments, ere the business of the war stole it away from me. “Bright and Steel both seemed to be in a foul mood when I met them. Well, Bright was plainly in a foul mood, and Steel was e’en more laconic than he normally is…” She took a breath and finally spoke of the true matter “From what gossip I o’erheard in camp, there was a fire in Manehatten. Everypony of importance in the so-called Free Earth Pony Provisional Government was in a ballroom which went up in flames. By all reports, there were no survivors.”
Given the circumstances, I rather doubted ’twas mere happenstance that the building had caught flame. Especially a fire that struck swiftly and severely enough to leave behind no survivors. I had mine own theories as to the likely architect of it, as well. “I suppose I will have to offer my congratulations to Sunbeam, then.”
To my surprise, Gale frowned and shook her head. “I do not believe 'twas her work. She has her own contacts, but they are largely concentrated within Canterlot and other unicorn strongholds. Certainly nothing I’ve seen that is capable of an act on this scale. While she certainly has the skill to burn them all, that would require her presence in Manehatten. No small feat whilst Canterlot is surrounded by a hostile army.” She briefly paused, as if some other possibility had only now occurred to her. “E’en if she had some means of reaching or attacking Manehatten, I was with her on the night of the fire, planning. I doubt 'twas an imposter I spoke with. There is no other pony like Sunbeam Sparkle. And most importantly, ‘tis not her style. I think she would have preferred something more precise.” She paused again before adding dryly “Not to mention that if she had done it, we would have heard about it from her own lips shortly after.”
I chuckled at her final point. “That much is undeniably true. While Sunbeam Sparkle may have her virtues, humility is not one of them. She would wish to be lauded for her work.” She had certainly not shied from taking credit for far more infamous acts than incinerating enemy bureaucrats. “Whate’er the case, 'twill disrupt the rebel efforts. That is a fine thing indeed.”
“That it is,” Gale readily agreed. “Though the rebels did their best to hide it from me, ‘twas plain to see that the loss of their supplies pains them. I cannot imagine that decapitating the earth pony government will help them replace those losses.”
“Very good.” I trotted to the window, gazing out into the rainy streets. “Hopefully, this war is near its end.”
Gale let out a surprised snort at that statement. “I think that rather optimistic. We have won a battle, but they still besiege Canterlot itself. Aye, we’ve bloodied them, but from what I saw the rebels are far from ready to seek terms with us. They still speak as though victory is assured, and we merely delayed their progress with the battle in the vale. ‘Tis plain to see that despite our victory the city is still besieged.”
“Aye, I did not expect them to be broken by a single defeat.” I considered my words carefully, lest I say too much and betray Celestia’s confidence. “The Commander has a master-stroke planned. I hope 'twill succeed.”
Though I was not facing her, I could feel Gale’s eyes upon my back. Her words were carefully measured. “You do not sound confident in this plan. That is most unusual for you. Ne’er before have I heard you express doubts in her leadership. What has changed?” I looked back to her and found her staring down at the table, a deep, thoughtful frown on her face. “A plan that could end the war quickly would have to be quite a bold one indeed. Bold plans usually involve a high risk of failure. You do not think the odds favor her, do you?” She turned her head slightly, gazing back at me o’er her shoulder.
As always, my daughter’s keen insight served her well. “As you say. Though she is certain that it will win the war in a single stroke, she offers no certainty of it. All the facts before me say that her plan is all but certain to doom us, and she offered nothing more than blind faith and hope when I sought reassurance. I would give her my confidence, but she has given me nothing to hold on to. I cannot abandon my reason, and that tells me her plan is madness.”
Gale rose from her seat, pacing about the room. “Madness? Strong words indeed. What sort of gamble is she risking our cause o’er? I pray ‘tis not some new product of her melancholy.”
I hesitated once more, thinking how best to explain without revealing what Celestia had said of Lance’s destiny. “She thinks to entrust Lance Charger with considerable power—enough to utterly destroy us—in the hopes that ‘twill persuade her to take our side.”
My daughter’s jaw dropped, her eyes wide in shock. “That is ... you cannot be serious! I think she would as soon convince Rightly or Steel Striker that the war is a terrible misunderstanding, or Swift Blade to be her cup bearer. I only knew her from my brief time in the hetairoi , but she treasures her honor far too much to turn her coat. E’en were that not the case, her mother leads the rebel cause for the moment, and Lance is her mother's daughter first and foremost.”
I took a breath and spoke words I would have preferred not to. “Sunbeam intends to make a corpse of her—with or without the Commander’s approval, I fear. I find myself hard-pressed to disagree with her course. ‘Tis our duty to protect Equestria, as much from the ... mistaken hopes of our Commander as from any other threat.”
“Agreed.” Gale’s gaze dropped to the floor, and she chuckled. “Listen to us. I imagine we do not sound so terribly different from the rebels in this moment. Conspiring to defy our commander for the greater good.”
I could not deny that there was a bitter irony in that. Perhaps ‘twas part of why I found the rebels so troubling. For all that I felt the rebels and their cause needed to be stopped, I found myself just as quick to question Celestia’s judgement. “I wish to have faith in the Commander, but...” A part of me could not help but wonder if ‘twas possible for both sides in this war to be in error. That the rebel cause was irreconcilably flawed, and yet Celestia herself was unfit for command?
Still, she did claim that becoming an alicorn would alter Lance’s perspective. And Celestia did have considerable force of personality, when her melancholy allowed her to exert it. Lance was an honorable mare; surely she would at least hear the Commander out. ‘Twas not impossible that Celestia’s plan might succeed. And yet, I could not bring myself to truly believe in it.
I did my best to dismiss the matter from my mind, else ‘twould drive me to distraction. Better to focus mine attention on those few issues where answers were clear and duty plain. “No matter. Is there anything else to know about the exchange?”
Gale held my gaze for some time longer, likely considering whether she should press me further on the matter. Thankfully, she let it rest. “Neigh, there is not. At least, nothing of any great consequence. 'Tis to take place tomorrow at noon.”
“Very well then.” For a moment, I was tempted to end the conversation there. Perhaps ‘twas cowardly of me, but given the choice ‘tween ending it as a cordial enough discussion of our duty and dredging up the troubles ‘tween us, the route of silence had an appeal. However, I cared too deeply for Gale to let matters lie as they were. “We should have words, daughter.”
The professional calm my daughter had displayed for the bulk of our conversation vanished, and once more I saw the raw anger of a wounded child in her furious scowl. She had filled her role as my spymaster well enough, but the instant I spoke to her as a mother rather than as her materfamilias, that reserve vanished. “What more words need to be said? You spoke quite clearly enough when we received word of Grandfather’s death. You seemed to have long decided on your course by then, and were quite content to discard him for not following your lead. I do not doubt you would discard me just as readily.”
I flinched back at the raw fury in her voice and struggled to think of something I might say to appease her. Whilst I am choleric by nature and quick to anger, Gale’s temper was a slower thing. And like many ponies whose fury builds slowly, she was far harder to calm once roused. “I would have peace between us, daughter. This is not a time for our family to be any more divided.”
Gale scoffed, her teeth pulling back from her lips in a half-snarl. “What little of our family remains after your actions.”
My whole body slumped, and for a moment I felt an empathy with the Commander. I felt so terribly worn by this war and did not have the heart to fight another conflict with my daughter as well. “Gale, please...”
She continued to glare hatefully at me, but ere much time had passed she began to waver. Then her fury broke in an instant, and she slumped down as well, looking every bit as weary as I felt. Though I had known my daughter had reached adulthood some time ago, in my heart I still saw her as my child. Now, for perhaps the first time in my life, I gazed upon an adult. One worn and damaged by war, much as I was, and every bit as drained by the discord between us. “Speak your words then, Mother.”
I closed eyes and took several breaths, putting the utmost consideration into my words ere I spoke them. A single misspoken word might well cost me my daughter, and I had lost too much of my family to this war already. “Father's death is ... painful. Far moreso because 'tis not a pain I can express. Duty has its constraints. I cannot be seen to mourn him, for all know that he was an enemy of our clan and our cause.”
“I am not blind to what duty requires of us, Mother.” Her gaze hardened. “I do not expect you to publically wail and gnash your teeth o’er his death. But does duty prevent you from expressing your pain to your own daughter? Does it constrain you from offering comfort to your only living family member?”
I sighed, and looked within for the answer. “I was afraid. Afraid that if I let myself still care for Father, then ‘twould be seen as a weakness or a sign of disloyalty to the Commander. I cast him from my heart and hardened it against him, thinking ‘twould make me strong. Now I find that I have hardened my heart so much that I do not know how to open it once more, e’en with his passing. I cannot simply undo that I have done with him. Much as I mourn the stallion who raised me, I also see the stallion who sundered our clan and sought to usurp me.”
Gale held my gaze for a time, then slowly dropped her eyes to the floor. “What am I to say to that? What can we speak of when you cannot truly talk to me of Grandfather's death?”
“I do not know,” I confessed. “It may be that I will simply have to try harder to open myself once more. ‘Tis difficult to do so, when I have grown so accustomed to burying such feelings beneath the shield of duty.” I took a hesitant step towards her. “But whate’er the cost, I shall pay it. As thy mother, I owe thee nothing less.”
My daughter nodded, then turned her eyes from me. Her voice came out as a small, pained whisper. “Was your pride truly so great that you could never reconcile with him?”
“Once more, you ask a question I cannot know the answer to.” Though it pained me to do so, I turned my mind away from the question of whether reconciliation might have been possible. “We each chose our courses, and neither of us was quick to reverse once we had settled on a position. ‘Twould have been difficult. I regret that we did not have the chance to make the effort to reconcile. Howe’er...” I struggled to push the thoughts away, e’en though a part of me felt that only by facing them could I o’ercome them. “If I linger on what might have been, Sunbeam's fears will be realized. The Commander is already dulled by melancholy, I cannot risk sharing that. We cannot let our pain paralyze us, or many more will be given cause to mourn through our inaction.”
Gale refused to look at me, her wings slowly curling around her own chest and stomach. “We killed him, Mother. Though we did not deliver the blow, his death is the result of our actions. I helped slay mine own kin.”
I immediately went to my daughter’s side, resting a hoof on her shoulder. “Neigh, my dear child. 'Twas my plan to strike at the supplies, and ‘twas I who ordered the attack and forced his withdrawal. Thou shouldst not carry any guilt o'er it.”
Gale shook her head, refusing the absolution I offered. “Neigh, I have aided my mother and mater every step of this journey. Back in Cloudsdale, when Grandfather called on me to resist you and on your decree, I physically stripped him of his clan status. I helped you remove our clan from that city to go aid Commander Celestia. I was there when the plans were made for our attack on the supply wagons. I helped hold the rebels off while our allies burned their supplies.” She steeled herself against the unpleasant truth of the matter. “I did all these things, willingly and knowingly. I knew the consequences these acts would have. I am not some ignorant soldier who was only following her orders, Mother.”
“No, thou art not.” I drew her nearer to my side, offering what comfort I could without properly embracing her. Much as mine instincts commanded me to do so, I feared such a move might be too bold with the rift still fresh in both our minds. “Thou didst attempt to mend the sundering of our clan and family, at least. 'Twas more than I did. E’en when he asked to speak with me, I denied him. The last words I spoke to him were a threat of death.” My gaze fell to the floor. “A threat which, ‘twould seem, I have now made good upon. At least you made the effort to restore us.”
“Yet I failed most miserably, and in the end I denied him just as you did.” She slowly drew nearer to me, instinctively seeking the comfort of her mother. “And there is more. When I was in the rebel camp, meeting with Bright ... She asked me to join their cause. She said that I could avenge my grandfather, be given the opportunity to challenge you to juris , or bring you to battle howe’er I saw fit as opportunities allowed. To become mater of the clan, and bring it back into the Pegasopolan fold, our honor and pride untarnished.” Her head hung in shame, and the next words left her mouth in a barely audible whisper. “I was so angry about Grandfather’s death that for a moment, talking with her, I was ... tempted.”
I threw caution to the wind and embraced. “Gale ... I am sorry for the harshness that passed between us.”
Gale clutched me like a lost and frightened foal. “Mother, I...” Words failed her, but the tears brimming in her eyes were answer enough. I held my daughter once more.
I stood on the riverbank, examining the island where the exchange was to occur. It seemed unremarkable. In truth, ‘twas little more than a large sandbar in the middle of the river, though it did hold a small stand of trees. Most likely ‘twas larger when the river was not near to o’erflowing its banks from sustained heavy rainfall. (2)
2: Pre-war maps do indicate that the island was quite a bit larger than Shadow describes. It’s also worth noting that the island where the trade occurred no longer exists, due primarily to the heavy rainfall caused by the Siege of Canterlot.
My distant inspection passed quickly enough. “Nothing seems amiss. Though I suppose ‘tis possible there is some undiscovered force hidden among the trees.” There were not so many of them on the isle, but I could likely have hidden a small squad among them well enough to elude the eyes of anypony on the banks.
Sunbeam, present despite the rebels’ wishes, stared out at the isle with a thoughtful frown. “I see and sense nothing awry, though it would be a rather poor ambush if I could locate it from this distance and o’er water. I would be much more at ease with this entire proceeding if we could send scouts to the area for a full inspection ere we began.”
“The rebels would not allow it,” I informed her. “’Twould be far too easy to slip a single agent onto the island in the process of such an inspection. If twenty arrive at the isle and only nineteen leave, the difference might go unnoticed. ‘Tis why Pegasopolis has long-standing traditions for such exchanges. Ere the prisoners are brought to the isle, Lance and I shall conduct a joint inspection of it. So long as we find nothing untoward, the trade will proceed as planned.”
Rightly, resting nearby with wings bound and hooves chained, stirred at that. “I look forward to that. Though the guards were courteous within their stations, I do not care for being a prisoner in the slightest. ‘Twill be good to be returned to comrades, and to once more take up my spear.”
Sunbeam turned to him with a poisonous smile. “I assure you, we enjoyed having you as our guest far more than you enjoyed being one. I hope you had the chance to grow comfortable in your cell, for you will occupy it again at the war’s end.”
“Or perhaps you shall,” Rightly growled back.
“I rather doubt that.” Ere he could dispute her claim, Sunbeam continued. “Neigh, I think they would hang me from the nearest tree or lamppost if they are the victors. Mayhaps after performing some of the rather colorful acts I have heard your fellows devise for me, many of which do not bear repeating amongst fair company. Not that I have any intention of allowing such a thing.” Her eyes hardened. “Pray that you lose this war, Ephor, for if Celestia is beaten I will have nothing to lose, and the queen will no longer be able to stay my hoof. There is no depth I would not sink to if it ends with my queen restored to her rightful place.”
Having said her piece, Sunbeam turned her back on him, evidently judging him no longer worthy of her attention. Instead, her attention returned to me. “Cannot somepony of less value to our cause do the dangerous task of scouting the isle? Thou needst not risk thyself with such a thing.”
I shook my head in answer to her. “I have already been named as the Commander’s representative in this matter. Sending anypony other than the designated envoy might well spoil the entire exchange.”
Rightly grunted in acknowledgement. “And then I shall be doomed to enjoy Unicornia’s hospitality, or lack thereof, for e’en longer.”
Sunbeam once more ignored Rightly, acting as if he had not spoken at all. “Aye, I can hardly dispute that. Still, I do not like placing thee in such a vulnerable position. Thou wouldst certainly be a hostage of equal value to those they currently hold.”
That was true enough. E’en moreso, now that Gale had confessed she felt tempted by the rebel cause. If I were removed, that temptation might well take her. Still, I judged such treachery unlikely. “Thinkest thou Bright likes placing her daughter in peril any better?”
“Neigh, of course not,” Sunbeam conceded. I knew her well enough by now that I was not surprised when she continued arguing moments later. “Which is precisely the problem. She might take precautions where her daughter is concerned. I know I would be inclined to do so were Midnight in her place.”
As would I with Gale. “Thus, the isle's inspection prior to the trade itself. ‘Tis not large enough for anyone to hide from us if we search for them properly.”
Sunbeam sighed, her frustration evident in her words. “I suppose that will have to suffice. At least we will have ponies ready to respond should there be treachery.”
“As will the rebels.” I gestured towards the enemy forces on the opposite bank of the river. Like us, they numbered several hundred. Enough to be safe from any simple ambush, at the least. ‘Twas not unheard of for full armies to be used for such exchanges, though ‘twas usually considered ill-advised. If we had stripped Canterlot of its defenders for the trade, the rebels might well have attempted to sneak a force past us and into the city. Even the most honorable of opponents might not be able to resist such a prize.
“Trust comes much more easily when ‘tis backed by several hundred spearpoints,” Sunbeam wryly observed. She glanced to Rightly then produced a small spherical object. “And before I forget. For thee. One of the newer products of our alchemists. When thrown hard enough, the outer shell breaks, releasing a fast-acting adhesive. 'Twould be helpful to subdue a prisoner should he attempt to flee or resist thee.” She smirked at Rightly. “He seems somewhat restive, and I am sure thou wouldst appreciate having a means by which to disable him without hurting him. He is too valuable to have dying now.”
Rightly did not rise to her bait. “Folly. Resistance would put my fellows at risk of attack, and myself at risk of remaining a prisoner. Besides which, there is little I can do whilst bound and chained.”
Sunbeam waved away his objection. “This entire rebellion against Her Majesty was foolish, and yet that did not prevent you from starting it. I have found ponies to be capable of making all manner of misjudgements, e’en when the sensible course of action is plain to any who have eyes.”
“No doubt many of those errors relate to placing their trust in one such as you,” Rightly responded dismissively. He then turned to me, wearing an annoyed frown. “Shadow, this is unnecessary. Lance is a mare whose reputation is above dispute.”
“Aye,” I allowed, “but ’tis always wise to be prepared for battle e’en if one thinks ‘tis unlikely to actually occur. Far better to be ready for treachery that does not happen than to be taken by surprise when your enemies prove dishonorable. E’en the best of ponies can be tempted to foul acts under the right circumstances.”
Sunbeam was quick to offer her agreement. “And while Lance might be a mare of honor, this does not mean her fellows are possessed of such sterling reputations.”
“I suppose I cannot deny our cause has a scoundrel or two among its ranks, though none are highly placed or honored,” Rightly allowed. He paused and directed a loaded look at the Archmagus. “One can take the measure of a mare by looking to her fellows. Regardless, Lance and my fellow ephors know the value of this trade and the gravity of it failing. They will not allow anything improper to occur.”
“Especially when ‘twould diminish their oh-so-precious honor.” Sunbeam smirked at Rightly. “All the more so in Lance’s case, as her record is already blemished by her failure to protect her commander. Too busy chasing glory in duels to see to her duty. Still, best to be cautious. I do not see you complaining about the rebels taking the same measures we are, Ephor.”
Rightly answered her with a deep scowl. “You are present, Archmagus—in spite of requests to the contrary, unless I miss my guess. I would not wish to see you within a hundred miles of any event where treachery was a considerable risk. Given your nature and reputation, any concerns on their part would be well-founded.”
Sunbeam scoffed and waved dismissively. “Let them object if they wish to. I am an archmagus and Grand Vizier, I do not take orders from rebels.”
I moved to quash the confrontation ere they began bickering like children. “Regardless of reputation and honor, or lack thereof, enemies rarely have reason to trust one another. Let us hope that this time, we may do so.” I stepped away from the both of them, spreading my wings. “If there is nothing else to be said, I think I will make my way to the isle.”
Rightly attempted to grasp my shoulder, but his chains halted the motion. “A moment, Shadow. I would speak with you in private.” He cast a loaded look at Sunbeam.
Sunbeam rolled her eyes and let out an annoyed sigh. “Please do be quick about it. The appointed time is near.”
The archmagus stepped near me, and I felt the subtle displacement of a privacy spell. Despite the spell’s protection, she drew near enough that her cheek all but touched mine, and spoke in a breathy whisper. “I should mention that thou wilt be alone on an island with Lance Charger. Given Her Majesty’s questionable plans regarding her, it might well be worth the risk of spoiling the negotiations to remove her. Though do try to arrange it in a way that lets us regain our archmagi too.” Having said her piece, Sunbeam dropped the privacy spell and departed, her tail briefly brushing my flank as she left.
Once Sunbeam was safely out of earshot, Rightly frowned at me. “Your speech with the Archmagus is quite familiar.” There was an unspoken accusation in his words. No doubt ‘twas magnified by Sunbeam’s flirtations, which she’d likely done in the hopes of provoking precisely this reaction from him. Her petty cruelties were at least consistent.
I had little patience for Rightly’s jealousy at the best of times, and now was far from those. What right had he to object when he had refused mine offers? And in any case, such matters were hardly worth discussing when the war loomed so prominently. “Aye, I was familiar with her. And I think I shall continue to be so. Whate'er her faults, we have fought and bled together now. You know the importance of battle bonds.”
“'Whate'er her faults?’” Rightly repeated, staring at me incredulously. “I knew Valiant well enough before his passing, but blood and sweat did not absolve what he had become—and e'en you would name Sunbeam a fouler creature still. Think what you might of the Ephorate and its decisions, but the enemy of your enemy is merely an asset. Had I not already cause to do so, I would question your judgement on the matter.”
I saw little point to discussing the matter further. If Rightly sought to create dissent within the ranks, he was doomed to disappointment. “Question my decisions as you will. For the moment, she is a mare who placed herself in considerable peril to save my life, and an ally to my cause. That is enough for me to treat her as such.”
“And what has she received in return?” Rightly’s eyes narrowed, and he directed a brief glower at the long-departed unicorn. “'Tis not her way to be altruistic, and her past all but screams that she will use you, or is e'en now. I do not know what ends she aims for, but I am sure they serve only to better herself at the expense of all around her. As mine allies would say, do not sow a harvest with her unless you are prepared to reap the whirlwind.”
Irritation flickered in my breast at his continued warnings. I knew Sunbeam Sparkle far better than he did, and yet he spoke as if he were the more experienced of us. Though there was a time I would have agreed with him, fighting alongside the unicorn had changed my opinion of her. “I am not blind to what she is, Rightly. Howe’er, war makes for strange bedfellows.”
Rightly’s teeth clenched at that. Mayhaps I had chosen a poor proverb for calming his jealousy, but a part of me saw little reason to accommodate his foolishness. “Better to sleep alone than allow a scorpion into one’s bed. One must be behind a pony ere they can stab them in the back.”
What little patience I had left for him reached its end. “I have heard your words, Rightly. Unless you would offer new ones, I think there is little point to continuing this. ‘Twould not do to keep Lance waiting.”
“A final word, then.” Rightly stepped nearer to me. “I know not what Sunbeam said to you, but I will say that Lance Charger is more than my hetairoi , Shadow. I name her family and niece through marriage.” A hint of genuine fear entered his voice. “I know she likely wounded your pride, but if I have e'er had a place in your heart, e'en in the slightest, I would have you weigh that ere you give further thought to the Archmagus' machinations.”
I was instantly wary, for Rightly’s remark was most unusual. Was it mere coincidence, or had he somehow surmised what Sunbeam had asked of me? Regardless, I saw little reason to reveal any answers to him. “I know not what machinations you speak of, Rightly.” A moment of wit struck me, and I added, “When speaking of Sunbeam’s convoluted schemes and twisted machinations, one must be specific to avoid confusion.”
Despite all that had passed between us, Rightly chortled at that. “A valid point, I am sure there are so very many of them.” His smile faded far too quickly for my liking. “How this day ends shall speak volumes of all involved. I would not have it said that Lance was attacked by you, for I know she'll give you no cause.”
“I pray you are correct in that.” Though I shared Sunbeam’s concerns, I would not murder Lance unprovoked in the midst of delicate negotiations simply to remove a potential threat. “If there is naught else, time presses.”
Rightly sighed and nodded. “Very well. I would wish you luck, but ‘twould hardly be altruistic when the success of your mission ensures my freedom.”
“I shall accept your wishes, regardless of any ulterior motive.” I took wing for the island. Though the actual exchange would be done using boats in order to accommodate the prisoners who lacked wings or had them bound, the initial inspection of the island hardly required such inconveniences.
I found Lance Charger awaiting me on the island’s shores, such as they were. Perhaps ‘twould be more accurate to say the waterline, for now that I stood upon the island proper the sight of grass and shrubs beneath the water made it quite plain that the river banks rested far higher than ‘twas normal. There was perhaps some hopeful news in that, though. If the rebels’ rains were making rivers so heavily o’erflow their banks, the flooding might well cause them as much trouble as the rain had caused us.
Lance held her weapon at the ready, her eyes never leaving me as I approached. Once I landed before her, she stepped forward, carefully scrutinizing me. “I think it safe to say that you are indeed Shadow Kicker. Not e’en magery could so aptly disguise your true nature.” I inspected her in kind, though ‘twas far more of a formality in my case. Proper magic could provide a far better disguise than the more mundane methods the rebels would have at their disposal.
“And you are Lance Charger,” I concluded. Formalities must be observed, howe’er needless they might be. “Shall we proceed with the inspection?”
“Indeed we shall.” The two of us set out, slowly walking side by side along the island. “So, I trust you have been well since our last battle? You seem to have recovered from your wounds with no ill effects.”
“Aye, well enough.” I was quite grateful for the healing arts of the unicorns on that account. Though I still believed pegasi to be the masters of battle, one cannot dispute that there are some problems magic is best suited to solve. “One of my ribs yet pains me when I roll upon it improperly at night, but 'tis otherwise of no consequence, and ‘twill heal soon enough. And you?”
“No troubles that I have noted.” She paused, and a faint smirk crossed her lips. “Though my brother has taken to frequently complaining that I now snore at night, on account of the injury you inflicted upon my muzzle. He claims he can hear it e’en from within his tent. Howe’er, beyond that annoyance I am quite well.”
“'Tis a hazard of such wounds. 'Twill likely pass in time.” Now that I thought to look for it, I did note that her nose remained very slightly swollen. Not to any significant degree, but e’en a small amount could produce nightly noises. Once the swelling faded, so would the problem. Howe’er, another possible explanation occurred to me. “The brother who troubles you is Dusk, I presume?” Lance confirmed as much. “That being the case, ‘tis also possible that you are quite well, and his claim is naught but a jest at your expense.”
Lance pursed her lips, and I suspected sibling vengeance might now loom on the horizon. “That would be very much like him, aye. I have often suspected that Dusk had the terrible misfortune of being born to a warrior clan when ‘tis quite plain his true destiny was to be a court jester.”
“He was a fine guest in my clanhold.” My mind briefly turned to his time in the clanhold. He had conducted himself quite admirably, much to Gale’s irritation. I am sure she would have delighted in having an excuse to punish him. “I presume he is well? Given my daughter’s feelings for him, ‘tis all but certain she would have told me with the utmost glee if some misfortune had befallen him.”
“Aye, he is fine and uninjured, despite your daughter’s wishes.” Lance shook her head and chuckled to herself. “My brother is quite taken with her, despite her obvious disdain for him. I confess I cannot account for it, beyond the fact that he has always seemed interested in mares who share her general appearance. Perhaps he has an odd fondness for mares who constantly insult him and wish him ill. I have heard such things happen.” She paused, then grimaced in disgust. “Though I would prefer not to know my brother’s habits and preferences in matters of that nature. Regardless, he is well and now leads the hetairoi . As always, he is in fine spirits, too.”
That news caught me unawares. “He leads the hetairoi ? I thought that was your post?”
“So it was, until earlier this very day.” Lance looked back to the rebel army, her eyes growing distant. “I have been promoted to lead one of the wings of the army. With only two of our ephors currently present ‘pon the battlefield, there was need for a leader to command the post.”
Unsurprising that a rising star such as Lance would be selected for such a role. “So your mother plans to put you in the ephorate, then?” (3) With natural reluctance and hesitation, I noted, “Cyclone's post is unoccupied, now. Somepony must replace him ‘mongst your ranks.”
3: While the importance of such secondary commanders varied considerably depending on the size and scale of the battle, for a campaign as important as the Siege of Canterlot, a sub-commander would hold almost as much effective power as an actual ephor. So long as Lance proved reasonably capable of exercising command, her promotion would be guaranteed.
“Aye, the post must be filled.” She was silent for a few moments as we entered the small copse of trees where the inspection’s most important phase would occur. Though trouble was unlikely, if it came at all ‘twould likely be hidden here. Once we had entered and found no immediate problems, she turned to me, a frown on her face. “My condolences for his death. Disowned or not, he was your father. He was also an honorable stallion, and one who should have been allowed to retire in peace rather than be used as a pawn on the board.”
“I would have preferred that,” I answered, struggling to maintain some level of neutrality to my voice. ‘Twould seem that whilst I had not been able to open my heart to Gale enough to fully resolve our troubles, I had opened it enough to find mention of his passing far more painful. “My thanks for your condolences. And your understanding.” I briefly paused to flit up and inspect a tree’s branches. “I fear this war may well make corpses of us all, ere it ends.”
Lance’s eyes lingered on a nearby bush. Her silence made me suspect she was disquieted by my words. At last, she answered, still not looking to me. “Aye, this war has been most unkind to us all. I doubt you have seen the slaughters 'mongst the earth ponies?”
“Neigh, I have been largely confined to Canterlot and its environs.”
“Aye, of course.” Lance’s wings flicked, and she paced about the forest floor. “Matters among the earth ponies have become most badly troubled. Some of Apple Tree’s kin chose to seek vengeance ‘gainst that of Danver Carrot. And then the Carrots responded in kind. The same has happened in other communities, where’er lines are drawn or old hates gain new life. 'Tis an unending cycle of revenge and reprisals between them.” She fell silent once more, plainly unsettled by the facts before her. “Commander Rightly, thankfully, brought an end to the worst of it. Though I fear what will come to pass should the war continue. We can hardly spare the forces to stop every blood feud amongst the earth ponies, especially when many of these feuds are between our loyalists and yours. If our farmers continue to kill one another, I fear we will lose more ponies to starvation than our blades before long.”
“It seems quite likely, aye.” Another disturbing thought sprang to mind. “And if old legends are to given any credit, the next winter will be a long and hard one.”
“Yes, those old tales. Dusk and I discussed them at length.” She halted her inspection, turning about to face me directly. “'Tis not mine intent to offend, but I need to cut to the quick of it. Why do you fight for Queen Celestia? What is it about her that inspires such loyalty in you?”
I would have answered her immediately, but I found myself recalling my discussion with Gale. I could hardly profess mine unthinking and total obedience when I had been sorely tempted to defy Celestia’s will by slaying the very mare before me now. I answered her as best I could. “Though she has erred, I truly believe she has Equestria's best interests at heart. And I fear the precedent that would be set by pegasi deciding who should rule 'mongst the other tribes. Each tribe should choose its own leaders as equal parts of a whole, not seek the approval of a tribe that is first among equals.”
Lance’s brow furrowed in thought as she considered mine answer. When she answered me, there was a slow deliberation to her words. “Do you deny that the pegasi and earth ponies no longer wish for her to be their ruler? That if she were to abide by their laws and traditions, she would no longer have any claim to being their sovereign?”
Tempted as I was declare her the rightful Commander despite all that had passed, I could no longer deny the unpleasant truth of the matter. With the utmost reluctance, I answered her. “Though I think her removal from Pegasopolis was unwise and done with unseemly haste, 'twas done in accordance with our laws.” I was far more pleased with my response to the second part of her objection. “For the earth ponies, the problem lay in knowing which outcome they desired absent all improper influence in their elections. ‘Twas plain enough that neither side was wholly righteous in their conduct.”
The other mare slowly gave her agreement. “Aye, ‘twould be all but impossible to determine who was the true victor. Better to cast the results out entirely in favor of a new election. One more fair and better regulated than the last mockery.”
“That would seem the best solution.” I sighed and glanced through the trees towards our opposing armies. “Pity the war began ere we could arrange such.”
Once more, Lance was careful with her words. “'Tis most regrettable. Though such a thing could still happen if peace were somehow declared.”
Her words surprised me. I turned to her, regarding her with suspicion and hope in equal measure. “Aye, it could. If the rebels were willing to offer such terms.”
A faint frown creasing her face. “Pray tell the truth for this question. I mean no offense ‘gainst your honor, but this matter is far too important to be muddled by the usual posturing of wartime. What do the unicorns think of their queen? Do they truly love her, and are they certain in their loyalty to her? Do they truly stand behind her, or is that merely the usual show of unity one can expect ‘gainst an enemy?”
I took some small offense at the implication that I might be dishonest, but ‘twas hardly worth commenting upon. “From all I have seen, the unicorns are absolute in their support for Commander Celestia. Whate’er their faults, she is their queen and has their hearts.”
Lance turned to face Canterlot, her eyes lingering on the city. “Mayhaps a compromise can be made? Before I came here, Dusk suggested a queer idea to me, though I do not think he dares bring it before Mother. While I am willing to fight for the rights of Pegasopolis and the earth ponies, I am disquieted by the idea of fighting to remove Celestia from her throne if the unicorns wish for her to retain her crown.” She tapped her chin, deep in thought. “I would consider it a fine outcome if Celestia accepted the decision of the ephorate regarding their selection of a Commander, swore an oath to ne’er seek to regain that office, and allowed for a free and fair election amongst the earth ponies. Let her keep her crown, if the unicorns wish it.”
In effect, Lance offered a return to how things stood before the war, merely with added reassurance that Celestia would do none of the things the ephorate feared she might attempt. “I believe that Celestia would find such a proposal most acceptable. Though I expect that the ephors would hesitate to offer such generous terms.”
“Mother would have me be an Ephor,” Lance countered, “and I would offer such terms. This is a war for ponykind’s right to self-determination. ‘Twould be a betrayal of our very cause to strip Celestia from office if a tribe wishes her to be their leader.” She nodded, her mouth a thin, determined line. “Aye, that is the way of it. I will suggest the idea to Commander Rightly and Mother at the first opportunity. 'Twould help if I had Dusk to support me. His wit is quicker than mine, and he has a talent for rhetoric and logic that I do not fully share.”
To think, this war might finally be ended. Not by Celestia’s desperate plans, or a long, grim, bloody struggle, but with a simple negotiated peace. I pressed my case. “Now would be the time to offer terms. We have denied you the hope of a quick, easy victory. If you can take Canterlot at all, 'twill be after a heavy price in blood. A reasonable compromise offers every side more than a continuation of the war.”
“Aye, 'tis true. Though I think we would take the city eventually, if perhaps not quickly.” I noted a hint of youthful pride in that last statement, though restrained by her discipline and judgment. “But 'twill be bloody for us all. Better to settle for terms all can accept rather than create a bloodbath that would scar all three of our tribes for generations.”
It seemed a fine thing to dream of. Yet e’en as hope began to burn bright in my breast, I foresaw the possible doom of our cause. ‘Twas an easy thing to propose peace, but far more difficult to see it done. For all Lance’s eagerness, Rightly and Bright might not share her views. Neither had seemed inclined to seek peace at all, let alone on generous terms. That put matters in a new light. “What would you do if your mother refused your proposal? If she insisted on seeing the war to its conclusion? Would you follow her, e'en if you saw the chance for peace in defying her will?”
Lance nearly stumbled o’er a root as my question struck her. She glanced back to the camp, and her wings trembled faintly. “I ... have ne’er considered such a thing.”
“And now that you have?” I prompted.
“I would sooner die than betray my mother,” she answered without a moment’s hesitation. Howe’er, that certainty soon wavered. “If Mother would refuse peace when ‘twould seem the right course, then ‘tis likely there are other facts which I am not privy to.” She paused a moment, and then amended her words once more. “Though if I am to be an Ephor ere long, I should not be denied such information. Regardless, I have ne’er opposed her will in such a way.” She looked to me, and her expression softened. “That said, my loyalty to Mother is due in no small part to the fact that she has always done what is right. If she refuses my proposal, then ‘tis likely because that action is also right. If it were not ... I do not know how I would react. But I do know that whatever would come to pass, I would try and do the honorable and just thing for Equestria. All of Equestria.”
Ah, and there lay the problem. E’en if Lance hoped for peace and would gladly accept Celestia’s proposal, she was a young soldier. If Bright ordered her to war she would obey, regardless of any doubts in her heart. There, perhaps, lay the fatal flaw in Celestia’s plan. ‘Twould be easy to win Lance to the cause of peace with honor, but she would ne’er break with her Mother to seek it. She might privately press Bright, but with the means of securing total victory delivered to her I feared Bright might not be so easily persuaded. Why seek a reasonable compromise when one could easily gain the chance to dictate terms?
Lance, presumably, had come to her own conclusions regarding my long and troubled silence. “I know that is not an answer you seek, but I have my duty to my clan and nation. But also to Equestria and my fellow ponies. This I promise you, I will talk with Commander Rightly, Mother, and anypony else that will listen to me regarding what we have spoken of.”
“But at day's end, you are a soldier of Pegasopolis and will follow your orders,” I concluded, feeling most grim.
“Aye,” she confirmed. “Though it seems likely that ere long a day shall come when I take a seat within the Ephorate, for now I am not yet a leader. And e’en if I am a member of that body, I will abide by the decisions of the whole, whate’er my private beliefs.”
Given mine own actions, her words stung more than I think she intended. Rather than allow my thoughts to linger on the matter, I chose to speak of something better. “I think you would make a fine ephor. Though I would prefer to retake mine old seat, if 'tis at all possible.”
Lance slowly nodded. “Aye, I foresee no difficulties in that. Two seats currently stand open. Your father’s, and Commander Rightly’s, once we put aside the symbolic measure of naming a long-exiled alicorn as our Commander-in-absentia. ‘Tis useful enough as a means of showing all that we fight for all Equestria, not merely Pegasopolis, but once this war is over the need for such will pass, and we can have a proper commander and full ephorate.”
‘Twas strange to think that I might soon return to Cloudsdale and name Rightly as my Commander instead of Celestia. But if that was the price of peace, I would pay it gladly. Though I would prefer to see Celestia restored, I would not send thousands of ponies to their deaths simply to see it done.
“Your own return, and reunification of your clan, would be something to be negotiated over.” Lance swept her namesake through a particularly large bush, nodding in satisfaction when only a large spider emerged. “Though I expect Commander Rightly would welcome your return, as would many others. This war should end with the Kicker Clan being brought back into the fold. All pegasi under one flag, as Lyequingus decreed.”
“Aye.” For all that my clan had begun to establish itself in Canterlot, I confess that I still saw Cloudsdale as my home. Our clanhold in Canterlot could be remade into a proper Pegasopolan embassy, if it meant a return to our old hold. “Peace...” Mine eyes turned up to Cloudsdale. “It sounds a distant dream, does it not?”
“Aye,” Her shoulders relaxed, and she looked to me not as an enemy, but as a comrade in arms. “It is a dream. But one worth fighting for. And I think I might see a light in the darkness.”
“Let us hope it comes to pass.” I offered her my hoof.
As she reached to take it, I heard the sound of a hoof scraping o’er a tree root, and felt the whisper of motion through the air. Ere I could call out a warning Lance’s eyes widened in surprise, and she quickly whirled about and thrust with her weapon, striking a solid object despite the fact that her weapon remained in seemingly empty air. There was a cry of agony, and a moment later a unicorn appeared, skewered on the end of her weapon. Whate’er spell he used to conceal himself, he could hardly sustain it whilst spitted upon a spear. A dagger tumbled from his telekinetic grip as the light slowly left his eyes.
Whilst Lance removed her weapon from the body, I recovered the blade our attacker wielded. A plain and unremarkable blade in most respects, but the thin coat of oily green liquid on edge spoke of a greater threat. “A poisoned blade.”
An assassin, then. Who would send an assassin to the island? My first suspicion naturally turned to Sunbeam, but the attack seemed unlike her. She had too much to gain from the negotiations going well, and ‘twas too blatant a move to suit her. Not that I doubted she would have Lance murdered, but I expected she would either see to it on the battlefield, or poison her dinner. A dagger in the back was simply too direct.
One of our other leaders, then? But that struck me as equally unlikely. Few of them would have reason to target Lance, or myself for that matter. Not to mention ‘twould spoil the negotiations. Or might that be the true goal of this? Somepony who wished to see the exchange foiled? But who would gain from such an act?
Another troubling thought occurred to me. If ‘twas somepony within the rebel camp, what better way to hide their involvement than using a unicorn for the task? While the rebels had attracted a few unicorns to their cause, most would still assume that unicorn would be acting as an agent of Celestia. Somepony might well have intended to not only halt the prisoner exchange, but to see it done in a way that left the blame at loyalist hooves.
I turned to Lance, intending to present my fears, only to find her glowering at me. “I should have known,” she growled, quickly cleaning her weapon before levelling it at me. “A clever plot, to distract me with conversation and deep questions whilst an assassin slipped into position to plunge a knife into my back. The treacherous blow you struck me in our earlier duel should have forewarned me of your true nature.”
I quickly stepped away from her, protesting mine innocence. “Lance, I swear on my honor I knew nothing of this. I would have struck him down myself had you not been faster to react.”
“A likely tale.” She brought her lance to bear against me, ready to strike at a moment’s notice. “Curious, how you also led me to a place where neither of our armies can see us, ere we encountered the assassin.”
Despite the peril, I felt myself growing most irritated with her. “Aye, the assassin picked a hiding place that actually allowed him to hide. Inconceivable. And e’en more surprising, in the course of searching this island for hidden enemies, we chose to inspect places where spies and assassins might wish to hide themselves.”
Despite my logic, the suspicious glare on Lance’s face remained in place. “A fine argument, but I mislike the odds of such a coincidence. Especially when I face a mare known for trickery, who is in alliance with a unicorn whose skullduggery and underhoofedness is infamous. Neigh, I do not believe it. Make ready to defend yourself, Shadow.”
Damnation. Much like her mother, ‘twould seem that Lance could become most difficult once her temper had been roused. “Lance, I do not seek battle with you.”
“Battle is upon you, whether you seek it or not.” She brought her weapon fully to bear, its bloodied tip pointing directly at my heart. “I say it once more. Make ready to defend yourself. This time, ‘twill not be a mere honor duel of hooves.” She jabbed forward with her lance, leaving a dent in mine armor. “I will make full use of my weapons and will end you if given the opportunity. Yield. You have skill, but you cannot beat me in a fair contest.”
‘Twould seem she could not be reasoned with. At the very least, I would need to restrain her in some manner ere I could make her listen. “In that, you are correct. I cannot beat you fairly.”
I drew out the tanglehoof ball Sunbeam gave to me earlier and threw it at her muzzle. The object burst on impact, covering her nose and mouth with sticky adhesive that dried mere moments later. Lance’s hooves frantically worked at the substance covering much of her face, but ‘twas no use. Her hooves could not remove it and the effort of trying merely stole her breath. She soon collapsed to her knees, her struggles already weakening.
“And that is why I will not fight you fairly,” I concluded.
As the mare struggled to breathe, a disquieting thought occurred to me. Sunbeam had urged me to kill Lance if I had the chance to do so, and now that chance lay before me. I only needed to let her lie upon the ground, and she would expire. She had taken the first aggressive act, and I had been well within my rights to defend myself. ‘Twould ruin the negotiations, but the assassin had already managed that feat on his own. E’en if I returned Lance unharmed, we would have to reschedule the exchange at the very least. If she repeated her claim that I had been working alongside the attacker...
Not to mention the threat she posed should she ascend. An alicorn in the enemy camp, one who would work to make the ephorate’s will a reality. She could very well be the doom of Equestria. Perhaps ‘twould be best to end it here. Take the safer course, and remove her ere she could become an e’en greater threat than she was already. ‘Twas certainly what Sunbeam would suggest, were she present.
And yet...
In speaking with Lance, I believe I saw the same greatness in her that Celestia perceived. I did not know whether she would bring the peace Celestia and Lance both hoped for. It may be that the effort was doomed to fail. But I thought she deserved the chance to attempt it.
One of my wing-blades snapped down, carefully slicing holes in the tanglehoof to allow Lance her air. She gasped in several grateful breaths, glaring at me with a mixture of fury, disbelief, and grudging thanks. She attempted to rise to her hooves, but they betrayed her.
“I will tell you once more: I had nothing to do with the unicorn who attacked us.” I helped her back to her hooves. “I apologize for the strike, but better that than having battle truly joined. The exchange is spoiled. Return to your army and tell them as much, I shall do the same. And I shall also carry word of your proposal to Celestia’s ears. I pray that when next we meet, ‘twill not be as enemies.”
And with that I parted company with her, returning to mine own camp. I was glad of my decision to spare her and e’en more certain ‘twas the proper one with every passing moment. Commander Celestia had been right. Sometimes, one must have faith in the decency of ponykind.
My sister was in a rare foul mood after the spoiled prisoner exchange. I could quite understand that, given that Commander Rightly had not been returned to us. Much as I enjoyed mine elevation to captain of the hetairoi , ‘twas a rather troubled post when I had no commander to defend. Though Mother occupied the post for the moment, I would prefer to have our proper leader restored to us. And not just because it would spare me Mother’s daily scrutiny.
The return of Ephor Swift Blade did not help matters. Though ‘twas no surprise he sought a return to grace, now that the Ephorate had lost two of its members. Especially when those two had been the strongest forces behind his fall into disfavor. That he returned alongside the dark news from Manehatten made it far more troubling, given the nature of his new companions.
Be that as it may, Ephor Blade was not my primary concern. Since the failed exchange, I had sought my sister that I might learn more of what had transpired. Howe’er, since her return, she had been locked away in counsel with the Ephorate. By the time their business with her was finished, the hour was late, and she sought her bedroll.
Come the dawn I went to her tent. Prudently, I brought a good breakfast with me. I have found that my presence in the early morning is always more appreciated when I come bearing gifts. Though Lance was e’er courteous and honorable, save when she felt the need for the usual sibling torments, a hot breakfast improves anypony’s disposition when they are fresh from their beds.
I hoped that a bowl of oatmeal with fresh apple slices would prove adequate to the task. Normally, I would have sought something finer, but we were in the field now. Lance, as an embodiment of Pegasopolan honor, would be offended if I offered her better food than her troops enjoyed. I am sure she would piously quote Lyequine texts to me if I dared provide her with quality fare.
I found my sister risen from her bedroll, though her eyes were heavy enough that I suspected she was fresh from it. “Good morning to you, sweet sister.” Lance answered me with the irritated glare of a half-awake pony who has just received an annoyingly chipper early morning visitor, and I quickly placed the oatmeal before her as a shield. “I have taken the liberty of securing thy breakfast. I hope the day finds thee well.”
Lance offered no answer beyond a grunt, but she took the bowl and nibbled at the food within. I counted that as victory enough. A bit of food seemed to return her fully to the waking world, and soon enough she stretched her wings and regarded me with her usual sisterly affection. “Dusk. Good morning to thee as well. And my thanks for the meal.”
“Think nothing of it, dear sister,” I magnanimously replied. “Though if thou dost indeed feel so terribly indebted to me for the meal, I would have a boon of thee.” Lance’s eyes narrowed, and I gave her an easy smile to calm her suspicious heart. “Nothing so terrible. I have heard that the exchange did not happen, but every set of lips tells the tale differently. I would have the truth of the matter, and thou art the best—and in likelihood the only—source for that.”
“Aye, I suppose I can give thee the tale.” She took one of the apple slices from her oatmeal, chewing it slowly as considered her words. “The exchange was spoiled by a unicorn assassin. I accused Shadow of planning it and challenged her. She beat me easily and could have slain me if she so wished.” Though her voice remained steady whilst she delivered the news, her eyes betrayed her unease.
“Dark tidings.” ‘Tween her failure to recover Commander Rightly and her defeat by Shadow, ‘twas no surprise my sister had sought her rest as soon as she could. Lance has always been a proud mare, and that double defeat no doubt wounded her far more sorely than any injury Shadow might have left. Rather than let her linger on her wounded pride, I quickly moved the discussion to other matters. “The Solars attempted trickery, then?”
My sister frowned and poked listlessly at her meal. “I am uncertain. A unicorn assassin does point to the Solars. Mayhaps too clearly. And the attempt itself seemed amateurish. There is much about the incident that seems ... unfitting.”
“Unfitting? How so?” My curiosity was quite excited by my sister’s vagueness. I would certainly not be able to set the matter aside until I knew the full of it. “If thou art well enough, couldst thou tell me all the details of what passed on the isle? And I trust thou art well enough, if thou canst tease me with such intriguing tidbits.” I could not prevent my mouth from rising slightly in a smirk; years of brotherhood had made the attempts to lift my sister’s spirits almost instinctive.
Lance let out a soft snort. “I see thy wit, or lack thereof, remains as sharp as ever, dear brother.” She brought a small spoonful of oatmeal to her mouth, then grumbled and placed a hoof o’er her stomach. “Though I am afraid there is not much of a tale to tell, despite how long the Ephorate kept me yesterday. During the inspection, a unicorn with a poisoned blade emerged from cover and attempted to strike me down. He failed, and I spitted him upon my lance. I was understandably upset when I confronted Shadow o’er the matter, but she claimed innocence. I did not believe her, and when I attempted to strike she quickly subdued me, but spared my life and my freedom when she might easily have denied me either.” Her eyes were far away, and I could plainly see she was troubled by that fact.
A simple enough story, yet one filled with intriguing implications. I measured my words carefully before replying. “One thing I can say with reasonable certainty—Shadow was not involved with the attack upon thee. Otherwise she would have struck in concert with the assassin or finished thee once thou wert at her mercy.” I suppose it was possible Shadow was involved in the plot, but had a last-minute change of heart. That struck me as unlikely, though. From what I had seen of her in my time with the Kickers, Shadow was not one to waver once she had decided upon her course. “Nor do I think it likely that she arranged the entire incident as some elaborate ploy to win thy trust. It seems unlike her.”
“I find myself forced to agree,” my sister answered with a faint frown. “If that be so, ‘twas wrong of me to threaten her with violence. I may owe her an apology when next we meet, though ‘twould be absurd to apologize to the mare for slighting her honor moments before attempting to slay her in battle.”
“I find life is full of such absurdities.” I had certainly found no shortage of such. “Much like a stallion attempting to pay court to a mare who plainly despises him.” Much to my sorrow, to be sure. Alas, Gale was so very fine to look upon, e’en in her anger ... or mayhaps, dare I say, because of it—some mares are at their comeliest whilst enraged. I was quite glad that we had not met one another upon the battlefield yet, for that would prove most troublesome. Thoughts of Shadow’s daughter with a talent for the clandestine did lead to other possibilities, however. “Another in the Solar camp might have planned the attack, though.”
Lance smirked at me playfully. “Ah, thou dost suspect thy lady love?”
“Neigh, she would send the assassins after me, not thee.” Though I doubted she would do that; she hated me far too much to let any hooves other than her own bring about my death. Moreover, I doubted she would take such extreme measures without informing her mother. Howe’er, she was not the only loyalist with a talent for subterfuge. “There is always the Grand Vizier to consider.” No sooner had I spoken the thought than I found myself shaking my head. “Neigh, I do not think the crime fits her either.”
My sister nodded her agreement. “I think she would do something grander and more effective than a single pony with a poisoned blade. She has a well-earned reputation for brazenness.”
“Aye, she does.” Mine eyes fell to my sister’s meal, largely uneaten, and I wished I had thought to obtain a second bowl for myself. Alas, the sacrifices we make in the name of family. “She would have struck herself, or brought an o’erwhelming force to the isle. Not a single hidden knife. Then there is the timing of it; I think she would have waited for us to bring the captured archmagi for the exchange ere she struck. Better to slay thee later, when she could walk away from the trade with all the spoils.”
“That was the moment I expected any perfidious blow to fall,” my sister agreed. “The enemy gained nothing from striking when they did.”
A curious puzzle indeed. Why would Celestia’s loyalists act in a way which weakened their own cause? ‘Twas possible this was part of some greater design that I remained blind to, but if so, I could not imagine what it might be. And if it was not part of some grand scheme... “No army acts with a single mind. Mayhaps it was a rogue unicorn acting on his own?”
“That is certainly possible.” Even as Lance conceded the point, a frown grew on her face. “But I mislike that explanation. Dismissing it all as the actions of a single soldier acting on his own seems too simple. More to the point, it leaves us with no direction forward. There is no deeper meaning behind the actions of a single rogue. Nothing to investigate, no reparations to be sought, or co-conspirators to be questioned. The matter would be closed.” Her eyes turned to her lance, and she let forth an annoyed grunt. “Pity I did not take the unicorn alive. There are many questions I would ask of him.”
“Alas, the lance is not the best weapon for capturing one’s enemies.” Indeed, I could scarcely think of a worse weapon for the task. The lance is a fine weapon for killing, but it lacks the flat edge of a wing blade, and since ‘twas made to be used in a charge, e’en resting the tip on a foe’s throat was a poor threat compared to other weapons. Still, it profited us nothing to lament what might have been. The unicorn assassin was dead. It availed us nothing to wish we might have put him to the question.
Instead, I turned to matters that remained within our power. “Let us proceed on the assumption that our assassin did not act alone, then. Who was he working with? Another faction within the loyalist forces? Shadow, Sunbeam, and Crossguard might be in ascendance, but they are far from the only figures of prominence in Celestia’s forces. And we must also consider...” I hesitated to finish the thought, for ‘twas a disturbing one.
As had so often proved the case in the past, Lance was braver than I. “When seeking suspects in a crime, the first question to ask is who would benefit from that crime. It does occur that while the attack profited the enemy nothing, there are those within our own forces who had much to lose from Commander Rightly’s return.”
‘Twas not difficult at all to guess who she meant. “Swift was in disfavor with the Commander ere Rightly was captured. And his new allies occupied a dungeon cell by Rightly’s word.”
“Just so.” My sister frowned and set aside her meal, largely uneaten. “And given that warlocks are largely unicorns by definition...”
I found myself nodding in agreement. “Such disreputable sorts would certainly have access to poisoned blades, and spells to place one of their own in a position to strike.” The more I thought on it, the more likely they seemed as our culprits. “And if our captured magi were returned, they could warn the enemy that Swift has released the warlocks.”
Lance’s frown deepened into a full scowl. “Mother and Ephor Steel are both most displeased with Ephor Blade and his new allies. I think they would return the warlocks to their cells, were it not for the fear of causing dissent within the ranks.”
That caught mine immediate attention. “Dissent?” I asked.
“Aye. The Ephorate might as well strip Swift of his seat if they countermand his actions so plainly.” Lance’s eyes turned towards the Blades’ section of the camp. “A thought which I confess is somewhat tempting now. Howe’er, if we removed Swift from office, his clan would likely abandon the campaign.”
“I wonder if we should risk it.” My gaze followed my sister’s, and I noted how the banners marking the Blades’ section of the camp were few in number compared to our own. “The Blades are a minor clan. We could continue the war without them. Having poor or corrupted leadership might cost us far more than the few hundred warriors the Blades offer us.”
“Would that it were as simple as that.” My sister sighed and shook her head. “If Mother removed him, I would likely have to take a seat in the Ephorate. Two Ephors is far too few. Many of the other clans might see it as Mother deposing the only Ephor from a minor clan to install her daughter in his place. We can afford to lose the Blades, yes, but they might not leave alone.”
Loath though I was to admit it, there was truth to her words. Howe’er justified Swift’s removal and well-earned Lance’s elevation, many would see the act as naught but blatant favoritism and a usurpation. Not to mention ‘twould put the Chargers firmly in control of a reduced Ephorate. E’en if we filled the other unoccupied seat with a member of one of the lesser clans, the Chargers would still hold half the votes, and until Rightly’s return, Mother was Acting Commander and thus would decide any tied vote.
A moment later I spotted something amiss with Lance’s remark. “Fill the vacancy with a member of the one the lesser clans? That seat was Cyclone Kicker’s. His clan will not be pleased if they lose it.” For all that we prided ourselves on choosing ephors solely on the basis of merit, It had been a great many years since one of the four major clans did not hold a seat on the Ephorate.
“Aye,” Lance allowed. “But the Kickers who do not fight under Shadow’s banner are so few in number as to make little difference. Cyclone’s death has left them with no clear leader within their own ranks, let alone one suited to the Ephorate.” She leaned nearer to me, and her voice dropped to a low whisper. “‘Tis not to be publicly discussed, but many of the Kickers who remained loyal to our cause have vanished in the night.”
“Desertion?” ‘Twas unheard of for a warrior of Pegasopolis to desert their post. Or at least, that was what the singers and historians always claimed. Howe’er, another possibility seemed far more likely. “Neigh, not desertion. Defection. If so, then taking away their seat in the Ephorate will hardly make them like us any better than they do now. If Shadow has any sense, she will welcome back her wayward kin.”
My sister scowled at that. “Offering them honors they have not earned seems a poor way to buy their loyalty. And if Swift is to be removed, then a new Ephor from the lesser clans must be named in his place. If that encourages those Kickers whose pride eclipses their honor to betray us, then so be it. They are turncoats. Doubly so, in Shadow’s eyes. Why would she trust ponies who are so clearly lacking in honor?”
“I never said she should trust them, dear sister.” Seeing as Lance showed no further interest in the breakfast I had so thoughtfully provided her, I retrieved the bowl of oatmeal for myself. No sense in letting good food go to waste. “Howe’er, she need not trust them to make use of them. Give them a chance to win back their honor in thankless and dangerous tasks that offer no chance to weaken her cause.”
“I suppose that is pragmatic,” my sister reluctantly allowed. “Though I would still turn them away, were I in her position. Amidst a siege, a few more soldiers contribute little beyond providing more mouths to feed, while a single traitor might inflict ruinous damage.” Lance’s face darkened. “Though as our concerns about Ephor Blade’s unicorn allies indicate, that can be as much a problem for the besiegers as the besieged. Absent such treasons, I see few prospects for ending the siege quickly.” She cocked her head slightly to the side, gazing at me searchingly. “I wonder if it might be better to offer Celestia terms. Shadow seemed receptive to the idea.”
“Did she? Well and good then.” Short as the war had been, ‘twas strange to think that we might be near its end, or that we might somehow undo all that had passed in recent months. Could we truly welcome the Kickers back into our ranks and break bread with Celestia as if we had not spent our blood in an effort to depose her? I did not know if such a thing was possible. The war had left behind too many wounds to be forgotten. Howe’er, I felt ‘twas worth the attempt, e’en if ‘twould be difficult to achieve. “If there is a chance to end this war with honor, then we should pursue it. Let Celestia have her crown as long as we have freedom. If our independence is already secured, I see no reason to spend further lives taking Canterlot.”
Lance cavalierly waved one of her wings, “Agreed. So long as Equestria is free, let Celestia and her unicorns have their city. She is no threat to us so long as she stays there.”
I took an apple slice from the oatmeal and found it quite to my liking. “We are in a strong enough position to get good terms from her. All of Equestria outside of Canterlot is under our control, so we need offer nothing beyond leaving the city in peace. (1) I do not see Queen Celestia's position becoming any stronger in the foreseeable future. If anything, ‘twill weaken once she acknowledges that she has lost the posts of Commander and Chancellor, and further weaken the longer she does not hold them.”
1: As the excerpts from Swift’s war journal showed, this is something of an exaggeration. While the loyalists had no other armies in the field or major cities under their control, there were plenty of areas where the rebels had no real authority.
“Quite so,” my sister agreed, idly resting a forehoof o’er her belly. “E’en if ‘tis only a temporary arrangement, ‘twould leave us free to put our own house in order.”
“Aye. With the news from Manehatten I think we need peace more than e’er.” The earth ponies would not suffer a government appointed by pegasi for long, but we could hardly arrange new elections in the middle of a war.
Lance continued on, unaware of my private thoughts. “If need be, she can forswear e'er pursuing power ‘mongst the other two tribes again. The Ephorate feared her as ruler of two of the three tribes, but she is no threat so long as she restrains her ambition.”
“Our strong position should be enough to force her to give us such an oath,” I readily agreed. “‘Tis plain to see that we could take the city if we had to, but why go to all that trouble when a negotiated peace can secure everything we truly desire with far less trouble and bloodshed?”
“Which is for the best.” My sister sighed, suddenly looking far older and more careworn than a mare of her years ought to. “If we weaken Equestria too much with this war, we might leave it vulnerable to outside threats.”
“Indeed. The gryphons were aggressive enough in the face of a united Equestria.” My mind turned back to the counter-raid we had launched on them shortly ere the war began. “I suspect the only reason we have been spared any attacks thus far is that they fear uniting us ‘gainst a common foe, or they have troubles of their own that prevent them from taking advantage of our weakness. (2) Whate’er the case, ‘tis good fortune. Something we have had far too little of in recent days.”
2: The gryphons were in the midst of a civil war over who would become the new Archduke of Westmarch, and thus far too busy to intervene in Equestria’s civil war beyond a few reiver incidents. Most notable among these was the raid on Trottingham where, true to Dusk’s observations, Lunar and Solar forces called a temporary truce to unite against the gryphons .
“Quite so.” My sister drew herself up and set about girding herself for battle. Or politics, though that was simply another sort of battle. “I think ‘tis time we spoke with Mother on the matter of peace. I will have words with her, while I would ask thee to speak with Steel. He is thy sire, so thy words might reach him more easily than mine. I would speak with them both at once, but then Swift might be called in to make it a proper meeting of the Ephorate.” Her face hardened. “I have little wish to hear his words, and I do not think he would care for mine.”
“Aye, I think we would have better results speaking to the Ephors alone.” Leaving aside the matter of Swift Blade, Mother had always been given to a certain level of passionate discourse, while Steel preferred pointed questions and quiet consideration. ‘Twould most definitely take two separate conversations to convince the both of them, regardless of the timing of it.
Still, I was uncertain of the task my sister had set before me. “I could speak with Ephor Striker, though I do not know if I would have any advantage in doing so. Thou knowest that we have not exchanged many words in the past. Near as I know, he does not e’en see me as a son.”
“Whate’er the case may be, thou art capable of speaking to him whilst I speak with Mother,” Lance replied as she donned her helm. “See that thine arguments are sound and thy rhetoric persuasive. If he looks upon thee more favorably for sharing his blood, then so much the better.”
For all her talk of honor, ‘twould seem that my sister was not without some talent for the maneuvering of politics. Mother was right in thinking she had the makings of an excellent Ephor. “Well reasoned, dear sister. I will do what I can to win him o’er to our position.” A sardonic smirk made its way onto my face. “Of course, any debate with Ephor Striker is likely to be something of a one-sided discussion.”
“As all conversations with him are,” Lance agreed as she turned her back to me to begin arming herself. She flinched as she donned her flanchard, her hooves slipping from her armor. The brightly polished steel fell to ground with a clatter, while Lance clutched her belly.
I was at my sister’s side in an instant, checking her for any wound. “Lance, art thou well?”
“I am quite well,” she assured me, shoving me back with the hoof not clutching her midriff. “My stomach has been ill at ease this morning, nothing more. ‘Tis why I did not properly enjoy the breakfast thou didst obtain for me, though the thought was surely appreciated.”
“Ah, very well.” I had wondered why she had eaten so little of it. Now that I was assured there was nothing amiss with the meal itself, I wasted no time in consuming what remained of it. “Mayhaps thou shouldst visit Dawn ere thou makest thy way to Mother?”
Lance waved away mine advice. “Neigh, not for something so minor as this. There are still many soldiers with battle wounds, and I will not waste the chirurgeons’ time with such a minor complaint. Especially when the only remedy most of them know for a sour stomach is a purgative.” She frowned thoughtfully. “With our recent supply difficulties, we have been making do with less than fresh provisions, and the bread last night did seem a touch stale. Likely ‘twas nothing more than that. I shall eat once my stomach is settled.”
I accepted her at her word. Why should I not? Likely she had insisted on eating the stalest of the bread out of some misguided sense of nobility. My sister is prone to such gestures. “I wish thee well in recovering from it. I shall leave thee to thy honorable suffering in the battle ‘gainst stale bread while I speak with Ephor Striker. ‘Twould be best if we tried to convince the Ephors of our cause ere the failed exchange entrenches itself in their thoughts.”
My sister answered with a sharp nod. “Agreed. Fare thee well, brother.”
“And thee, sister.”
Ephor Striker had elected to remain in the clouds rather than erect a groundside encampment for his clan. While there were obvious advantages to remaining in Cloudsdale, both Commander Rightly and Mother believed that the morale of our earth pony allies would be better served by working alongside them. Though I think Pegasopolis took its veneration of Lyequinegus too far, I found myself reminded of one of the Lyequine axioms: ‘A commander should live, eat, and fight alongside his soldiers if he expected those warriors to die for him.’
I discovered at least one of the reasons for Ephor Striker’s absence from the ground when I found the stallion himself. When I entered his clanhold, I found the Ephor hard at work o’er a thunderforge, carving a new hammerhoof with lightning. The workings of a thunderforge have always held a certain fascination for me; for all the talk of the unicorns’ arcane arts, we pegasi possessed our own form of magic. I witnessed it that day as Steel Striker turned inert metal into a deadly weapon of war.
Once the Ephor had finished forging his weapon and quenched it in a nearby raincloud, I approached, clearing my throat to announce myself. The Ephor turned to face me, sweat plastering his short mane to his head. He offered me no greeting beyond a barely perceptible nod, but that was to be expected. Once I had given him sufficient time to speak, were he so inclined—one must observe the formal courtesies, howe’er needless they might be—I broke the silence. “Sir, could I have a word with you?”
The Ephor grunted and nodded, then took up his new hammerhoof and began polishing the fresh-forged metal. As he offered no words, I judged the nod sufficient response for me to proceed. Pity I was unsure how best to do so. Though his blood might run in my veins, I knew little of the stallion beyond what any who listened to idle gossip might know. Should I acknowledge that I was the child of his flesh, e’en if he had ne’er played the role of father in my life? Or would it be better to ignore that fact and simply proceed as if I were any other warrior of Pegasopolis?
While I dithered, Steel deigned to speak. “Armor is dented.”
His words took me by surprise, if only because they had so little to do with my reasons for coming to him. Though I suppose ‘twas no surprise his own mind was on such matters when he had only just finished working the forge. Still, the remark was a curious one. “Your gear seems in excellent repair, sir. I see no dents, nor any other signs of battle damage or rust.”
“Not mine,” the Ephor grunted. “Yours.”
I glanced o’er mine own armor as best I could whilst wearing it. While I was hardly slovenly in caring for my wargear, I could not deny that it had taken some damage ‘tween battles and training with the hetairoi . Nothing of any great significance, I had thought, but ‘twould seem the Ephor disagreed. “I shall take it to an armorer at the first opportunity, then.”
Ephor Striker’s eyes narrowed, and his lips thinned in disapproval. “Not fixing it yourself?”
I offered a helpless shrug. “Unlike you, sir, I am no smith.”
The Ephor frowned at me for some time. “Should be. Not Bright’s way, though.” He briefly turned his back to me and gathered a small bit of lighting from the thunderforge, using it to carve out the fine details into his new weapon. “A warrior lives and dies by the state of their gear.”
“Which is why Mother ensures that the best smiths in Pegasopolis tend our equipment,” I answered, hoping that would satisfy him.
Judging by his expression, it did not. “Does Bright have ponies train in the lance for thee as well? A warrior and his gear must be one. Only thou canst know all that thou dost need in a weapon, or all the details of thy perfect suit of armor. Equipment forged with thine own sweat and blood will always be superior to that made by another. ‘Tis why every Striker knows how to work a thunderforge. E’en Swiftwing learned it before—” He abruptly fell silent and turned his back to me.
‘Twas plain to see that speaking of my half-sister pained him. Small wonder, given the cruel fate she had suffered. I would have offered him some words of comfort, but mine own tongue betrayed mine efforts to do so. There were no words I could readily offer that would lessen the enormity of his loss. Indeed, the only words I could think to speak were hollow platitudes that seemed more likely to insult him than offer genuine comfort.
The silence moved long past painful ere he finally broke it. “Here for business?”
I welcomed his question. Discussing the affair of Pegasopolis seemed far simpler than lingering on our own complex family relations. “Aye, sir. My sister and I have been considering how best to proceed, now that we have invested the city of Canterlot. Lance and I both agree that there would be merit in offering terms to Queen Celestia.” Ephor Striker’s brow knit, and I quickly moved on to justifying my proposal. “Though we currently hold the advantage, Canterlot will not fall quickly or easily. To be frank, I think sacking the city would cost us more than it would be worth. Given the weakness of Queen Celestia’s position, we could gain all that we truly wish for now and spare Equestria further bloodshed.”
The Ephor set his weapon down, turning his attention fully to me. “Peace, then? On what terms?”
He was at least hearing my proposal. That much was far better than I could hope to hear from Ephor Blade. He would likely claim that any talk of peace was an attempt to hurt morale and undermine the war effort, though I suspect it would have the opposite effect if Celestia refused reasonable terms. “First, she must renounce any claim to the title of Commander of Pegasopolis, now and forever, and acknowledge the freedom and independence of Pegasopolis. Secondly, she must do the same for the Chancellorship and the earth ponies, though I advise we leave some leeway for negotiation on that point. Mayhaps we could offer another election—one not tainted by corruption and trickery.”
Steel grunted and nodded. “Our main war goals. What does she get out of it?”
That was the issue. One could hardly negotiate a peace without making some concessions. “We would offer three things. First, that we would remain bound by the Equestrian Accords. Second, reciprocal pardons for all actions taken during the war, save for any foul or infamous crimes. Shadow would return to Pegasopolis, and we would return those unicorns who have joined our cause.” Though I expected that any practitioners of the forbidden arts would be considered to have committed ‘foul and infamous crimes.’ Not that I objected to seeing the warlocks properly punished for their crimes. “The greatest concession we would offer would be allowing Celestia to keep Canterlot and her crown. For all the talk I have heard of liberating the unicorns from her rule, it seems they wish to keep their queen.” I chose my next words with great care, lest any misspoken words exhaust howe’er much patience the Ephor might have left. “We began this war to fight for our right to choose our own leaders. It seems unfitting to deny that right to the unicorns if they wish to retain Celestia.”
“Logical.” Ephor Striker settled back onto the clouds, a thoughtful frown on his face. “Though some unicorns will have to go.”
That condition was no surprise, given the infamy of Grand Vizier Sparkle. I half-wondered if she had been restored to power simply so Celestia could offer to remove her once more as a treaty concession. “I am sure we can convince Celestia to part with Sunbeam Sparkle once more. She was quick enough to dismiss her before, and I suspect that the only reason she was welcomed back was the pressure of war.”
“Prefer something a bit stronger than dismissal,” Steel opined. “She needs neither post nor honors to whisper in Celestia’s ear.”
“I rather doubt she would be willing to execute the mare just to appease us.” I considered the alternatives, and found none to my liking. “There is always exile, but I think that might be more dangerous to us than keeping her. I do not think she would accept exile gracefully, and if she passes beyond our sight, who can say how much trouble she might cause?” I could certainly see her returning to Equestria at the head of a mercenary army after a few years in exile. Or e’en darker possibilities, if we allowed her to escape Celestia’s leash. One should be very wary of letting a mad dog run wild.
“Might be best to keep her where we can see her,” Ephor Striker allowed.
“I am glad we are agreed.” I made myself as comfortable as I could on the clouds. Unlike our own clanhold, the Strikers made few concessions to comfort. “So long as she remains in Equestria, Sunbeam Sparkle’s power derives from her queen. Without royal favor, there is little she can do.”
Steel grunted his assent. “Politicians can work out details.”
An amusing remark coming from a politician, though I suppose Steel rarely saw himself as such. All the Ephorate loved declaring themselves to be above petty politics, especially when they were in the midst of political maneuvering. I rather doubt he would be amused by my pointing out such minor hypocrisy though. “If we need a further guarantee of peace, I recall that Sunbeam Sparkle has a daughter. As will many other nobles and magi amongst the unicorns. An exchange of hostages, to ensure Unicornia's good behavior, seems a reasonable measure.”
“Prudent. Though hard to get them to agree to.” Though his face remained stoically blank, I felt his eyes resting on me more intensely than they had before “Ponies care about their children.”
Once more I was tempted to speak to him on personal matters, but I could not find the words for it. Instead, I shielded myself with duty. “Aye, ‘twould not be a condition the unicorns would care for. ‘Twould be best if we took a softer approach to it: we are not taking hostages, we are taking in promising young unicorns and training them to work alongside Pegasopolan forces to help foster unity in the wake of our divisive civil war.” Though the fundamental truth of it remained unchanged, the polite fiction would make the bitter pill far easier to swallow. “And we can make a few other concessions, such as allowing the children to see their parents regularly. I hardly think we need a situation where they are separated for years and years on end.”
The Ephor considered my proposal, then picked up his hammer hoof and returned to his work on it, inscribing small runes along its outer edge. I took his silence for agreement, or at least a lack of disagreement. Howe’er, I found the silence burdensome and endeavoured to fill it. “I would like to arrange a lasting peace within Equestria. Though Ephor Blade might speak of Pegasopolis guiding the other tribes, I think the last thing we need is a situation where Celestia’s loyalists will rise up against us the instant their strength is recovered.”
“Agreed.” He frowned down at the weapon is his hooves, and slowly carved at the steel. “Earth ponies and unicorns would like the taste of domination no more than we did. Trouble enough without fighting amongst ourselves.”
“Quite so.” The longer Equestria remained divided, the more likely we were to face trouble from other powers. The gryphons might be our most aggressive enemy, but they were far from the only other nation in the world. E’en some of our friends would likely want to define new terms of friendship which better favored them. “Though if we are to create a peace of unity, we would have little choice about restoring the Kickers and Shadow to their former posts. We would look two-faced if we preached unity and a return to the pre-war status quo, then denied her. Still, ‘tis a minor enough concession, and one that will likely please Celestia.”
“Reasonable. Shadow was a fine Ephor.” A faint frown crossed his face. “Misplaced loyalties, but still loyal to her cause. And the Kickers will not return without her.”
“They are as loyal to their materfamilias as any clan.” Likely moreso, now that they had followed her into exile and war against Pegasopolis. “If we do not restore Shadow to all her ranks and honors, she will not return. Her pride would ne’er allow it. And so long as she remains in Canterlot, her clan will remain with her.” Certainly some would return to Cloudsdale, and many would at least visit the city, such as Sierra’s husband. Howe’er, the true heart of the clan would remain on the ground with their leaders. Moreover, it would make courting Shadow’s daughter far more difficult—I would hate to face the flight from Cloudsdale to Canterlot every time I wished to hear her scorn and insult me.
The Ephor nodded and fell silent once more. As we had discussed everything I could think to speak of regarding the peace proposal, I was about to take my leave of him when he suddenly extended the hammer hoof he had been working upon towards me. “Lances break. Need a backup weapon.”
The sudden offer took me by surprise, but one does not refuse a gift from an ephor. I hesitantly accepted the weapon and placed it o’er my hoof. “Good fit?” he asked.
In truth it was a bit large for me, but just as one does not refuse a gift, one should also not insult that gift. “Perfect, sir.”
Steel was not pleased by mine answer. Instead he let out a contemptuous snort. “‘Tis not. ‘Tis unfinished, though. Adjustments to be made. And the usual padding will tighten the fit. Trust thou canst see to that thyself.” He paused, and his eyes narrowed slightly. “Thyself. No armorer.”
Ah. Grand. His gift came with an attached duty. Still, it was wise to respect the Striker ways when using a gift that had been granted to me by a Striker. “Very well, sir. Thank you.” I suppose I would need to learn at least enough about smithing to make the needed adjustments myself. Hopefully it would not take too long.
He stared at me expectantly. “Anything else?”
“No, sir.”
He grunted and nodded. “Will speak to Bright about peace, though I expect thy sister is already doing so now. Will see what develops.”
“Very good sir.” I turned to the exit. “By your leave.”
“Dismissed,” he answered curtly.
I returned to find our clan’s campsite in turmoil. Rather than the usual orderly boredom of a siege camp, soldiers were clustered about and speaking in low, fearful whispers. We were not under attack, but clearly something had happened to set them all astir. Mayhaps word of our peace plan had somehow reached the common soldiers?
Though ‘twould explain why they were all so taken with gossip, the tone of it seemed wrong for such news. There were no debates or cautious hope, just low murmurs. Neigh, some ill news had found us.
Unease started to grip at me as I made my way to Mother’s tent to find the truth of it. I found it empty, save for the usual guards. My brother Shield, Mother’s youngest, was at work cleaning up a spilled meal. His presence was not so strange—though he was far too young for war and had only just begun his martial and flight training, ‘twas common enough for my younger siblings to visit the camp. Howe’er, ‘twas unlike Mother to leave young Shield unattended. “Shield, where is Mother?”
The young colt looked up from his work. He favored Mother’s looks, though his coat was a touch duller and his hair a shade brighter. He also shared Mother’s adventurous spirit, which was to be expected in a young lad of eight years. “Dusk!” He rushed to my side, and by pure instinct I tousled his hair. As he drew nearer I noted that his knees shook with each step, and fear shone in his eyes. My brother is no craven, so I knew something terrible must have happened to shake him so badly.
I grasped him by the shoulders, steadying him even as I felt mine own mouth start to dry up. “Shield, where is Mother? What happened?”
He closed his eyes and took several breaths, restoring some measure of his composure. “‘Twas sister Lance, Dusk. She is unwell. Mother asked her why she was not eating, and she said her stomach was sore. When Mother touched it, she screamed .”
Mine eyes went wide at the news. I had seen my sister suffer a broken nose or be blasted by lightning with naught but a grunt to acknowledge the pain. If she was in such pain that it drew a scream from her... “Damnation! I should have insisted that she go to the chirurgeons when she said that she had taken ill!”
Shield flinched back at my shout, and I regretted losing my composure in front of him. He was young enough that he might think I was wroth with him rather than simply upset by the circumstances. Regardless, he quickly continued his report like a good soldier. “Mother carried her to the chirurgeons herself. Is Lance going to be alright?”
I gave the only answer I could to a young child. “Of course she will. Our sister is strong.”
Shield did not look especially reassured by mine answer. He was young, but he likely knew an empty platitude when he heard it. I would have remained by his side and offered better reassurance, but my place was in the medical tents, by Mother and Lance’s side. I did not wish to expose young Shield to a military field hospital, so I quickly flagged down one of our clan’s soldiers. “Return my brother to our clanhold at once.” The soldier saluted and placed my brother ‘pon his back for the flight back to Cloudsdale.
With that matter attended to, I wasted no time making my way to the medical tent. I found many of our soldiers clustered outside it in silent vigil, though the talk I heard circulating indicated that few of them knew exactly what had passed. Some claimed that Mother was dead, or that a meal had been poisoned and many of our clan had fallen ill. I felt a brief moment of dark amusement when I o’erheard one soldier earnestly informing his comrades that ‘twas I who had fallen to the blades of a unicorn assassin.
Despite the rumors of my demise, the crowd parted readily enough once they spotted me. I entered the tent and found Mother restlessly pacing about like a caged lion. The twins were also in attendance, though they remained silent in the corner. Dawn was no doubt attending to Lance. As soon as I entered Mother whirled upon me. “There thou art! Thou didst speak with thy sister earlier this morning! Didst thou notice aught amiss with her?”
Mother’s sudden questions took me by surprise, and I needed a moment to rally myself to answer. “Aye, she complained of a sour stomach. I advised her to consult a chirurgeon, but—”
“Clearly thou didst not press her hard enough,” Mother snapped ere she resumed her pacing. “If thou didst, we would not be here now.” Ere I could offer any words in mine own defense, one of the tent’s orderlies had the misfortune of passing within Mother’s line of sight. Seconds later, she was upon him. “What news of my daughter? Is she well?”
The unicorn quailed back at the sheer intensity of Mother’s demands. “I—I do not—I am not one of those tending your daughter, m’la—”
“Go find out, then!” she snapped at him. The orderly quickly fled the tent, though whether to do her will or simply escape her wrath I cannot say. Thankfully, the brief distraction spared me any more of her unfocused ire, and she resumed stalking about the tent’s waiting area.
I could well understand the source of Mother’s disquiet. Mother was a decisive mare of action. When confronted with a problem, she swiftly identified it and addressed it in whate’er way she thought best. Yet in this matter there was naught she could do but sit and wait while others acted. Her every instinct told her that her child was in danger and she must do something to resolve the matter, yet there was no course of action available to her. The best doctors in our camp were no doubt seeing to Lance’s malady already, and harrying them would only hinder their efforts.
I moved to her side and placed a comforting hoof on her shoulder. “All will be well, Mother. ‘Tis naught but a passing malady of the stomach. I am sure Dawn is resolving the matter e’en now.”
“No, thou art not!” Mother whirled on me, her words thick with fury and fear. “Thou art no chirurgeon, and thou hast not seen thy sister since the early morning. What dost thou know of her condition? Nothing! Thou didst not carry her to this tent once she fell ill! Thou didst not hear her cries of agony or feel the weakness in her limbs.” The fire slowly left Mother with each word, until I was no longer facing a furious caged lioness, but merely a tired, frightened mare who could do nothing to help her precious childl. She said nothing more, but slowly sank to her haunches, staring forlornly at the ground beneath her. Though I had been the target of her ire, I preferred that to the quiet terror she wore now.
With naught else to do, I sat at her side and waited in silence. Much as I wished to offer some words of reassurance or comfort, there was nothing I could say. In truth, I only devoted so much thought to comforting my mother because it allowed me to hide from mine own fears for my sister. And my guilt. How had I not seen that what she dismissed as a sour stomach was in truth the precursor to something far more serious? Had I not been so blind, might I have taken my sister for treatment ere the illness felled her?
I do not know how long we remained there in fearful silence. It might have been hours, or only a few scarce minutes. It only ended when Dawn exited the surgery area. She wore a smock covered in bloodstains, most old and faded but some far more recent. There was a haunted look in her eyes, and her hooves moved with a slow, leaden gait. She tripped o’er her own hooves, and she might well have fallen to the ground had my brother Thunder not moved to support her.
She turned to face mother, her voice a low, broken whisper. “I lost her.”
“What?” Mother rushed to Dawn. “What is it? Is Lance well?”
Dawn met my mother's eyes and began trembling like a leaf. “I lost her,” she repeated.
“Lost her?” Mother demanded. “What dost thou mean by tha—” The truth of Dawn’s words struck her, and she violently shook her head. “Neigh. Neigh! That is not possible. Thou art mistaken, Dawn!” She stepped past my sister and barged into the chirurgery, shoving aside an orderly who had the misfortune of standing in her way. I followed in her wake, as did my brothers. Mother made her way towards a cluster of chirurgeons, bulling through them as if they were enemies on a battlefield. “Let me see my daughter! Let me see her! ”
Mother quickly scattered them, leaving us alone with Lance. Somepony had put a sheet o’er all her body below the neck, but blood stained the area o’er her stomach. Lance’s eyes were closed, and she looked at peace. The peace of the grave.
I felt the world around me slip away. Nothing seemed to be reaching my mind besides the sight of Lance before me. My sister was dead. E’en standing there, looking at her body, I could not bring myself to believe it. It seemed impossible. I had spoken to her this very morning, and she had been perfectly well. Who could have imagined that she would expire so quickly? How could a mare go from perfectly healthy to dead within the space of a single day? How could my sister be gone? The sheer enormity of that terrible fact was inconceivable.
Mother pulled Lance into a gentle embrace as if she were cradling a newborn foal. She buried her face in my sister’s neck, tenderly stroking her mane. Her back trembled, and I could not hear if she was calling to my sister in a final, futile hope, or merely steeling herself to open her eyes and see the truth which ‘til now had only dwelt in her darkest of dreams.
At last, a pained croak left Mother’s throat. “How? How did my daughter die? What illness claimed her?”
Dawn glanced down at our sister’s body, her head hanging low in sorrow and shame. “‘Twas no illness, Mother. She ingested an alchemical substance—adhæsit ungula laqueum , more commonly known as tanglehoof. The adhesive caused a blockage which—”
“Tanglehoof?” Mother repeated, pulling away from my sister’s body. “Lance mentioned in her report that Shadow used tanglehoof ‘gainst her.” She stared down at the body in her hooves and spoke, half in a daze. “Shadow Kicker has murdered my daughter.”
I hesitantly reached out to her. “Mother...”
“Shadow Kicker has murdered my daughter! ” Mother turned on me, slapping my comforting hoof aside. “Dusk, Thunder, Flash, spread the word. We are storming Canterlot at once. Give them no warning nor any chance to prepare. I will bathe that wretched unicorn hovel in blood! Ere this day is done I will make them pay for this!” She turned back to my sister, and bestowed a final kiss upon her brow. “I will avenge thee, my child. I swear it upon my life.”
“Thou art a fool, Shadow Kicker.” Disdain dripped from the words as they left Sunbeam’s mouth. “A golden opportunity to destroy Lance Charger before she could undo all that we have accomplished, and thou hast wasted it.”
I had expected to face Sunbeam’s displeasure upon my return to Canterlot, and so I weathered the storm as best I could. ‘Twas why I had waited to give her the news until we stood before Commander Celestia, and in the company of Grandmaster Crossguard. I had hoped that their presence might moderate Sunbeam’s fury. A vain hope, it seemed. I met the archmage’s gaze, maintaining an outward appearance of calm. “I did what I believed to be right.”
“And Equestria thanks you for it, even if my Grand Vizier does not,” Commander Celestia cut in smoothly, favoring me with an approving smile. “I am glad to see that my faith in thee was not misplaced. Tell us more of Lance Charger’s peace offer.”
I smiled and nodded, partly in gratitude for her praise, but also because her inquiry would deny Sunbeam further opportunity to express her displeasure with me. Her glare made her feelings plain enough, but she held her tongue on the matter. “Yes, let us hear this peace offer from a mare who has no official standing that would allow her to speak for the Ephorate’s desires, let alone negotiate on their behalf.”
Crossguard turned to her, a patient smile on his lips. “Vizier, I am sure you are aware that one does not begin peace negotiations by making an official offer. ‘Twould be seen as a sign of weakness by one’s enemies and would damage the morale of one’s own soldiers. The favored daughter of the rebels’ current leader would seem ideally placed to make an offer with authority absent the risks of an official request.”
“Or it could be a ploy,” the e’er wary magus countered. “A maneuver to trick us into asking for terms, so that it is we who appear weak.” I do not know if Sunbeam truly believed such was likely or if she merely suggested the possibility to be contrary.
“That does not seem likely, given Lance’s reputation.” I frowned, thinking back to our meeting on the island. “She seemed too sincere for it to be a mere negotiating ploy.”
“She need not intend deception to play a part in it.” Sunbeam spoke the words slowly, as if we were dullards who had failed to grasp the obvious. “Given her reputation for honesty and excessive honor, only a fool would ask her to knowingly play a role in such ruse. Far easier to lie to her, and then let her repeat those lies whilst believing them to be true.”
Crossguard’s expression darkened as he considered the matter. “Such methods have been used in the past with some of mine own knights. The Order of Sol Invictus holds honesty as one of our highest virtues, and so many have sought to have us repeat their lies to add credence to them. There have even been incidents where our knights remained willfully ignorant so that they could hold to the letter of their vows whilst repeating untrue words. Our enemies might well be using a similar tactic.”
“I do not think Bright would do such a thing to her own daughter.” I shook my head, e’en more certain of the words now that I had spoken them. “She is a straightforward mare, and such elaborate deception would be unlike her. Especially in the form of abusing her own daughter’s honor. Bright raised her daughter: where dost thou think Lance learned to treasure her honor, if not from her mother?”
While Bright did not hold as closely to honor as her daughter did, I suspect that was less a matter of weaker ideals than experience. A young mare demands honor from all around her and is offended when the world does not comply with that request. An older, more seasoned warrior grasps that not all will cleave to that ideal, and readies herself for that reality.
“We will know the truth of it soon enough, in either case,” Commander Celestia declared regally. “For the moment, let us proceed on the assumption that the offer is genuine. The terms Lance offers are a reasonable starting point for discussion.” A faint smirk crossed her lips. “And we can continue to improve our defenses whilst speaking. How do they currently stand, Grandmaster?”
“Strong, but inflexible.” Crossguard drew forth a map of the Canterlot undercity, unrolling it so that he could indicate several areas within the warren of tunnels. “We have blocked off all known entrances to the undercity and have constructed redundant defenses at major chokepoints. The rebels will be hard-pressed to break our defenses by direct assault: we have stone walls that reach from floor to ceiling, broken only by the gates and arrow slits. If they breach the gates at all, they will face our pikes, which are at their deadliest with stone walls securing both their flanks. All of our forts have light sources placed as far down the tunnels as their line of sight extends, and I have sought to place them in relatively straight sections whenever I can. The straighter the tunnel, the more warning we shall have of the enemy approach.”
The old knight frowned, slowly stroking his beard. “Howe’er, I am not fully satisfied with our efforts. Most of our fortifications are only built in a single direction.”
I looked o’er his map, thinking on how I would go about breaking the line were I in command of the rebels forces. If a few key positions in the western tunnels were o’errun, the rest of our forts would be outflanked. If they were only built to resist assault from the front, they would fall quickly to an attack from the rear. For all that we might bleed the enemy in the initial assault, the whole network would quickly collapse once they penetrated our line at e’en a single point. “And the depth of our defense lines? I see multiple lines of fortresses.”
“Just so,” Crossguard indicated each of the lines in turn. “Our front line fortifications are complete, save for the need to secure their rear. The second line is not quite as refined as the first, but aside from the western tunnels it is largely also complete. The third line is still in the early stages of construction, and the fourth only exists on paper.” He sighed, tiredly slumping back into his seat. ”I have my engineers working as many hours as they can to correct the matter, but we can only achieve so much in a single day. Progress is especially slow in the western tunnels; they are old and difficult to move supplies to, and my engineers caution me that some of them are unstable and must be reinforced. I’ll not build a fort somewhere that the rebels can bring the roof down upon our soldiers.”
“Why not simply collapse the tunnels, then?” Sunbeam suggested.
“The engineers are uncertain they could manage a controlled collapse.” The old knight scowled down at the map. “I am no expert in tunnelcraft, but they fear that collapsing one tunnel might cause others to fall in turn, or open up new passageways in the rock. Our maps of the undercity are not e’en fully completed, so I hesitate to take any action that might radically alter them. Especially if it might open a vulnerability in our current defenses.” He glanced to Commander Celestia. “If Her Majesty orders it, we will collapse the area, but otherwise I would prefer to hold it so long as our frontline remains unbroken.”
“That seems the prudent course.” Commander Celestia’s eyes flicked down o’er the map. “Was there anything else thou didst wish to discuss with me?”
Crossguard glanced between myself and Commander Celestia. “There is one other matter. While custom dictates I should first approach Lady Shadow in private on this matter, I would afterwards have to speak with you, Your Majesty. May we dispense with a few social protocols in the interests of expediency?” I had no objection to that, nor did the Commander. Crossguard nodded and continued. “Lady Shadow, I am sure you are aware that one of my young knights by the name of Radiant Day has been courting one of your warriors, a young lady named Nimbus Kicker. He has requested that I convey his desire to ask for her hoof in marriage.” (1)
1: T he fact that Radiant is going through Crossguard rather than asking Shadow directly is intriguing. Perhaps he was trying to respect Pegasopolan customs by having the Grandmaster of his order serve as effective paterfamilias in the matter, or perhaps he just wasn’t sure about meeting with the Shadow for a purely personal question when they were in the middle of a long and difficult war effort. I could certainly see Shadow brusquely dismissing him with a rebuke for wasting her time with something trivial if she were in one of her more irritable moods.
“Marriage?” I was somewhat surprised by the timing of it. Though I had not kept abreast of the love affairs of my young officers, we had been in Canterlot for only a few short months.
“It is perhaps somewhat hasty,” Crossguard allowed, a faintly indulgent smile on his face, “but that is e’er the way the young. No doubt the war only increases their sense of urgency. When death looms o’er us all, many dare things they otherwise would not.”
Though the request itself had taken me by surprise, I saw no reason to deny permission for it. In truth, ‘twas usually a mere formality so long as the asker did not have some mark of dishonor upon him. “I grant my permission. He will, of course, have to formally ask Nimbus herself.” A smirk crossed my lips. “Though from what I have seen of them, I doubt she will refuse him unless he makes an utter botch of it.” Mayhaps not e’en then—some mares find a stallion who is a nervous wreck at the thought of proposing most endearing.
Crossguard half-bowed his head to me, then turned to the Commander. “In that case, Your Majesty, I would humbly request that you consider performing the ceremony personally. I had thought to make something of an event of the wedding. It would be a great honor for them and would do much to hearten the spirits of our forces.”
A faint frown crossed Sunbeam’s face. “A public wedding? And an extravagant one at that, by the sound of it? Forgive me if I fail to see the logic behind thy plan, Grandmaster. Hast thou forgotten that we are a city under siege? A wedding feast and mass festivities are luxuries we cannot afford at this time.”
Crossguard met her eyes and shook his head. “I think you forget that sieges are a matter of morale far moreso than supplies, Archmagus. The victory at Avalon Vale is already fading into memory, and will only become more distant as the enemy settles in for the siege.” He pulled out a second map, this one showing a rough recreation of the enemy camp. “Despite the talk of a possible peace, the rebels are making ready for a longer conflict. Right now, the only things our populace can look forward to are misery, hungry bellies, and the ever-present danger of a sack. A few small luxuries would do much to lessen the pain of living in a city under siege. And my quartermaster informs me that we are o’erstocked with perishable food. ‘Twould be best put it to good use ere it spoils.”
“The two of them have become warriors of some renown since their role in capturing Rightly Doo.” Sunbeam’s frown faded, and she nodded sharply. “Very well then. So long as we can manage to keep the festivities suitably festive without weakening our defenses in the process, I have no objection to it.”
“I am sure Nimbus and Radiant will be most pleased to have thy blessing,” I commented dryly. I then turned to the Commander and saluted. “If there is naught else, I believe we all have other matters to attend to.”
We all turned to Celestia, waiting for her to formally dismiss us. Howe’er she did not do so. In fact, she said nothing, her eyes staring blankly ahead as if she were deep in thought. “Commander,” I gently prompted, “Are we dismissed?”
A tremble passed down the Commander’s spine, and she turned to face me, her eyes wide and her words muted through the hoof she raised to her mouth “Shadow, what hast thou done?”
“Commander?”
Celestia’s head turned to me, her eyes seizing mine. I do not know what took me aback more within her expression: the fury, the disappointment, or the dread. “We will speak of this later, there is no time now. Ready our defenses, and quickly. They are coming.”
I struggled to make sense of it. “Who is coming? The rebels?” She confirmed that much with a trembling nod. “Where are they striking? What can you tell us of their deployments? Where does the attack fall heaviest? Where will they be vulnerable to counterattack?”
The Commander’s eyes were glazed with some sort of shock, and a tremor shot down her spine. “I cannot say. It is not ... I can only see the best of my children, and there is precious little of that right now. The longer thou dost delay, the worse ‘twill be. Please, thou must hurry!”
Crossguard put a hoof onto my shoulder and guided me away from the Commander. “Come, Lady Shadow. She would not push us along so urgently unless matters required it. We must reinforce the lower defenses as quickly as possible.”
“Aye.” Sunbeam joined us, moving at a fast trot. “If time presses us as sorely as she claims, then follow me.” She moved out of the throne room, myself and Crossguard obediently trailing behind her. To my surprise, she led us deeper into the castle instead of towards the exit. Her intentions became plain enough when she led us to a room which held a large, roaring fireplace despite being unoccupied. Her horn lit, and the flames shot out several sparks that did not come from any natural form of combustion. “Into the fireplace. Quickly.”
I hesitated, as I suspect would anyone asked to jump into the midst of a roaring fire. When I did not instantly respond to her command, Sunbeam growled, stalked about, and placed herself directly behind me. Ere I could think to do anything to prevent it, I felt her hooves upon my hindquarters as she unceremoniously kicked me into the flames.
Sunbeam’s unique means of transportation is distinctly unpleasant to experience. As one would expect of travelling through flames, ‘twas most uncomfortably hot, and my lungs were thick with smoke and ash. Then there was the sensation of travel itself, as if my body were being torn asunder and reassembled in the space of a moment. ‘Twas not painful, for the experience passed too quickly for me to feel any pain. That did not make it any less disconcerting.
As I lay outside the fireplace in my clanhold, hacking and wheezing for breath, Sunbeam exited through the flames, sparing me a brief glance. “Breathe deeply ere thou dost enter the fire, and hold thy breath until thou art clear. ‘Twill spare thy lungs any further unpleasantness. Crossguard managed it when I returned him to his order moments ago, e’en Midnight learned it quickly enough. Thou canst too.”
I gagged and spat up something thick with black soot. “Thou couldst have warned me ere thou didst force me into the fire.”
“Hindsight often reveals things we could have done, but failed to.” She struck me on the back, aiding me in clearing my lungs. “My daughter was quick enough to find a solution to the problem after her first journey. Besides which, thou wert moving too slowly. Order your clan to muster as quickly as possible, then return to me. I will take us to the front at once.” I began to make an inquiry, but she must have already anticipated it. “Only us. Securing passage through the flames is not easily done e’en for one of my talents, and far harder when done multiple times in short order. If I could move an entire army, would I not have done so already?”
“Aye, I suppose thou wouldst.” Though I could see valuable uses for Sunbeam’s abilities e’en if she was limited to only moving a small number of soldiers. The tactical and strategic options opened up by such mobility were incredible. We would have to discuss the matter when there was more time for such things. Howe’er, we would have to survive the rest of the day first.
When next I braved Sunbeam’s flames, I took her advice and was thus spared any further unpleasantness. Though ‘twas still not a form of travel I enjoyed, ‘twas hard to argue with its efficacy. My clan would need at least half an hour to reach a place which Sunbeam’s magic had brought me to in a matter of moments.
Howe’er, that advantage did come with hidden costs. I emerged from a campfire behind our frontline fortifications and found myself face-to-face with a dozen rebels in the plain, unadorned steel of the Striker clan.
Thankfully, they seemed e’en more surprised by my arrival than I was by their presence. My blades lashed out, taking one in the throat ere he could e’en gather himself. The other caught my blade on his hammerhoof, but once more Sunbeam’s enchantment proved its efficacy. My blade glowed cherry-red and cut deep into the war gauntlet. While the impact deflected my blade enough to prevent a killing blow, the rebel still lost half his hoof. I rather doubted he would be in any condition to continue the battle.
The rebel soldiers withdrew in shock at my sudden strike, buying me a moment to assess the situation. I quickly glanced to the side and confirmed that I had arrived at the correct destination. While ‘twas unlikely, ‘twas possible that Sunbeam might have sent me to my doom, or that her spell had been somehow misdirected into this ambush. That possibility was disproved once I saw the broken gates of one of our tunnel forts, and while the rebels had penetrated the line, many of our forces were still resisting to the best of their ability. Howe’er, with the lines broken and our forces in disarray they would not last long. Our conscripts could hold the line as part of a formation, but in open, free-flowing battle, the superior training and experience of the rebels gave them the advantage. Not to mention any reinforcement were half an hour away, whilst fresh rebel troops continued to pour through the broken gates.
Emboldened by the presence of their allies, the rebels hurled themselves upon my blades once more. My first instinct was to take to the skies, but the low-ceilinged tunnels made that impossible. The rebels moved slowly, spreading out to encircle me. E’en with my skill and the superior quality of my equipment, I would be hard-pressed to survive if attacked from all sides.
Thankfully, I had not come alone.
Crossguard emerged first from the flames, his sword shearing through three rebel lances ere they knew of his presence. The blade emitted a golden radiance as it carved through the wooden shafts, briefly blinding the wielders as well.
Sunbeam arrived moments later, not e’en bothering to fully exit the flames ere she struck. Flames lashed one rebel soldier, whilst in the same breath a spear of ice struck clean through another’s helm.
The encircling forces wavered, taken aback by the sudden appearance of two more ponies from the midst of a seemingly normal fire. I saw their hesitation and quickly moved to exploit it. “Sunbeam! Bring through the army!”
To her credit, Sunbeam immediately grasped my intentions. “I have already stabilized the portal. Your clan is right behind us, Shadow!”
The rebels facing us discovered a sudden, urgent need to be elsewhere. ’Twould not be long ere the bluff was revealed, but every moment it bought us had value.
Crossguard was quick to seize upon the opportunity the rebel withdrawal had opened. He dove into the nearest cluster of our own soldiers and the enemy. “Rally to me, soldiers of Canterlot!” His blade flashed out, and another rebel fell. “Rally to me, and we will drive these rebels back to the clouds from whence they came!”
Whilst Crossguard set to restoring our forces, I chose another goal. “We must retake the gates, Sunbeam. So long as the rebels can continue to pour fresh soldiers in, we have no hope of stopping them.”
Sunbeam nodded, but her expression was grim as she turned to the fortress gates. “A fine plan in theory, but the gates have been smashed to pieces. Alas, I do not have a gate-repairing spell.” She frowned and shook her head. “Still, I can buy us a temporary respite, if naught else.”
“I will take whate’er thou canst provide for us.” E’en a temporary respite would at least grant us time for an orderly withdrawal to a more secure bastion. Perhaps that would be the best course of action regardless. If this fort had fallen so quickly, then ‘twas likely others had as well. Crossguard had warned us that one fallen fort could compromise the entire front line. ‘Twould be prudent to secure a withdrawal to the second line, and then decide upon our next course of action from there.
Sunbeam’s eyes flicked o’er the gates, taking in their condition and the enemy deployment. A confident smirk graced her lips. “They have not properly secured the gates. Small surprise, given the state the assault left them in. If we strike quickly we should be able to cut them off without too much trouble. Canst thou keep them disoriented whilst I prepare my spell? A wall of flames should suffice to hold them back.” She frowned in thought, and amended, “Though I will need to replace that with a wall of ice if it is to hold more than a few moments.”
“‘Twill need to hold long enough for us to clear the remaining rebels and make our withdrawal,” I duly informed her. “I leave it to thee to decide which of thy spells is best suited to the task.”
She only needed a moment to reach her decision. “If we are to hold for that long, then an ice wall is our best choice.” She rolled her shoulders and grinned at the broken remnants of the fortified gates. “Let us not delay. The longer the breach remains unsealed, the more rebels we face.”
“Aye.” I saw no reason to delay any longer and charged for the enemy, seeking out whomever might be in command so that I might end them. In battles such as this, the best plan was often to disrupt the enemy’s capacity to take coordinated action. With nopony to give orders, an army was little more than a violent mob.
Sunbeam faded from sight, presumably hiding herself in order to better prepare her own spell. Howe’er, she did not leave me unsupported. A dozen ponies in my clan’s colors sprang up from the aether, and the illusionary soldiers joined my charge. The rebels near the gates were shaken by the approach of so many enemies, and their line faltered, leaving me with a relative clear path to their commanding officer.
I nearly hesitated when I saw who commanded them. While many of my kin had returned to the fold, some yet remained loyal to the rebel cause. Spark Kicker, whom I had faced in one of the war’s opening skirmishes, was among their number. When her eyes met mine, she snarled and dropped into a defensive posture, barking several orders to the ponies under her command. Where before I might have hesitated to face her, this time I knew my duty. Tragic as it was, Cyclone’s death had put certain matters into perspective for me.
My duty did not change just because the enemy I faced across the battlefield wore my clan’s colors or shared blood with me. There were Strikers whom I was closer to in blood than some of my own clanponies. And yet, just because we stood opposed to one another did not force us to fight with no quarter. “Spark. Yield or withdraw, kinsmare.”
The young warrior answered me with a cold glare. “Not this time, kinslayer. This battle will only end when one of us spills the other’s heartsblood.”
I answered her with a grim nod. “So be it, then.” I stalked towards her, my blades at the ready.
Spark approached as well, but briefly turned aside to speak to one of the Chargers within her ranks. “Inform thy mater her quarry is here!”
So Bright sought me? Small surprise. ‘Twas her way to seek out commanding officers and strike them down. She had been eager to find Sunbeam at Avalon Vale, and no doubt she was e’en moreso now that Sunbeam had eluded her in that battle.
Several other ponies began to move alongside Spark to support her, but a single pointed look from her sent them elsewhere. ‘Twould seem that young Spark wished to face me in single combat once more. Her companions were quick enough to engage mine own illusionary escorts. While they would likely realize the deception soon enough, by that point the duel would be joined, and none would interfere.
I was more than willing to accommodate her wish. “Come then, kinsmare. Let us dance.” I closed the remaining distance and offered a first careful strike, taking her measure.
Spark dodged the blow without any great difficulty, and answered with an aggressive counter that nearly o’erextended her. ‘Twas a young mare’s blow, full of fire, fury, and the thirst to earn a quick, glorious victory. “Thou art no kin of mine, thou craven whorse! Not after what thou forced upon Cyclone!”
I blocked the blow easily enough, and let efforts to goad me pass unremarked. My pride was not so fragile that I must answer her taunts with steel. “Cyclone’s death was his own choice. He did what he saw as his duty, I did mine. ‘Tis not too late for thee to choose differently. Many of our kin return to the fold.” I struck at her legs, for my clan’s training with Crossguard’s knights had revealed that many of us neglected our hoofwork.
‘Twould seem that the rebels had also become aware of that vulnerability, for Spark leapt into the air and gave a single quick flap of her wings to buy distance from me. “Aye, until I become inconvenient! If thine own father was naught but a pawn to thee, then we would be less than fodder.” She closed in, trying to take one of my wings with her blades.
As before, I met her o’eraggressive strike with an easy defense. This time, I let magic flow into my blades, and when they met Spark’s they struck deeply into her weapons, the hot steel scorching her wing and crisping her feathers. She fell back with a startled yelp. Only then did I answer her. “Neigh, kinsmare. Thou wilt have to earn thy forgiveness with good service, but 'tis a true amnesty offered to all who wish it. I would see my clan restored to wholeness.”
Spark drew further back, inspecting her wounded wing and gingerly flexing it. It functioned well enough for most purposes, but ‘twas clearly impaired. Her lip curled, and she snarled in defiance. “I do not believe thy lies, Shadow!”
“They are truths,” I answered calmly. “Accept them or not.” Now that one of her wings lay wounded, I exploited the hole in her defenses, hoping to bring about an end to the battle ere she forced me to wound her more sorely.
There was only one way for Spark to block my blow, and to her credit she did not flinch from it. Her teeth clenched as her remaining wing blade met my blazing hot one, and that wing too was maimed in the exchange. “Lies! ” she shrieked, her voice thick with pain. “Cyclone fell upon his blade because thou didst orchestrate it! Thou wouldst gladly shed all of our blood if thy unicorn queen asked it of thee.”
I met her wildness with stoic calm, gently shaking my head. “Cyclone's death was his own choice. Aye, I forced his withdrawal, but ‘twas his decision that a single defeat so shamed him that he would take his own life to be free of it. I would gladly have welcomed him back into the fold had his pride allowed him to ask for a return. He chose death instead. Do not repeat his error.”
Spark attempted to withdraw further as I closed in upon her, but she soon found her back to the wall. She could see her own ending approaching. “Call him 'Father' before me, then. Show me thy desire to mend the rifts in my clan by starting with the greatest.”
I wasted no further time, closing the remaining distance in a single smooth motion that ended with my blade at her neck. Fortunately, I had thought to extinguish the flames first. “He was my father, aye. And then he fell from grace, as did so many others. End this madness.”
Spark stood against the wall, panting for breath and trying to twist away from the blade at her neck without distancing herself so much that I might close in further. “Thou hast named him as thy father. A start, then. But thou shalt ne'er be forgiven for his passing. Though the weak may return to thy fold, those who remain true to the clan will not bend their knees to thee, kinslayer.” A defiant, almost mad light entered her eyes. “Thou wert spared thy father’s blood, or too craven to take it directly. I will not grant thee that. Dirty thy blades with kinsblood or release me. But know that if I am free, and thou dost survive this day, I shall seek thee on the field once more. So long as I live, I will ne’er cease my efforts to redeem my clan with thy heartsblood.”
“So be it, then.” In truth, I did not have the heart to slay one of mine own kin, e’en after all that had happened. Mayhaps I could have managed it if forced to do so in the heat of battle, but this was another matter. Spark was beaten and at my mercy. ‘Twould be more akin to an execution than a battle. Howe’er, I had other options available.
My blades flashed out in a dozen carefully measured cuts. Spark stared at me in confusion as none of the strikes pierced her flesh, but a moment later my intent became clear. First her blades and then her armor tumbled off of her, the straps holding her gear in place neatly severed by my strikes. Spark let out an indignant squawk as she realized I had left her wearing naught but the padded undershirt that accompanied her plate. “Thou art my prisoner. Report to Canterlot, and thou wilt be treated in accordance with such status.”
Under the circumstances I could hardly spare an escort for her. I would not be surprised to learn that she had no intention of behaving with honor and would return to the rebel camp rather than turn herself in for captivity. Howe’er, I owed my kin the chance to do the honorable thing, and she was unlikely to be a great threat unarmed and unarmored.
I turned my back on the beaten mare, intending to see to the rest of the rebel soldiers in the area. While the loss of their leader would discomfit them, they would require more attention to fully break. Attention I intended to give them.
Ere I could do so, I heard Spark screaming behind me. Sunbeam struck an instant later , dropping her invisibility spell as she lashed out with a dozen tightly focused beams of fire that carved into the rebels ranks. Each strike was precisely aimed, leaving behind small but quite deadly holes in the helmets of every remaining rebel soldier near the gatehouse. Sunbeam conjured her wall of ice ere their bodies had e’en fallen to the ground, blocking off the entrance to our tunnel and denying the enemy any further reinforcements.
I might have praised her admirable performance were it not for the smugly satisfied smile adorning her face. Instead I merely nodded, acknowledging her valuable contribution. Howe’er, when I turned about to check the rest of the gate, the sight that awaited me stopped me cold.
Spark Kicker lay flat on the ground, a single neatly-burned hole in the middle of her forehead.
I spared a glance to Crossguard’s forces to ensure he had matters well enough in hoof that he did not require our immediate aid. That done, I whirled back upon Sunbeam, glowering fiercely at the mare. “She yielded.”
Sunbeam answered with an uncaring shrug. “I had already calculated the spell to include her among its targets by the time she yielded. Changing it would have delayed sealing the gate, and I could hardly offer her the chance to dodge without alerting the others of their peril. ‘Twas unfortunate, but war is a violent and brutish thing. She would not have had this fate if she had chosen differently when this war began.” She glanced down at the corpse of my kinsmare. “Thou didst not see her final acts. She was reaching for a weapon. ‘Tis quite likely that she only yielded to keep thee from killing her. Ponies do desperate things while under duress. The instant thou wert foolish enough to turn thy back to her, she would have planted a knife in it.”
I spared a final glance at my fallen kinsmare. “Mayhaps she would have. But now we shall ne’er know the truth of it, shall we?”
Sunbeam regarded the mare she had slain. “No. But I prefer living in ignorance to learning the truth with thy death, Shadow. She was our enemy and showed no sign that she intended to change her ways. I will not imperil our own soldiers in the vain hope that one of our enemies might reconsider their current allegiances.” She turned her back on Spark. “Now come, Shadow. We have a battle to win.”
With the gate sealed and Crossguard rallying our forces, we were able to dispatch the remaining rebels behind our lines in short order. Howe’er, it was at that point that our plans went awry. Crossguard mounted the walls, looking through one of the arrow slits at the rebels below. Though they had been stung by their reversal, ‘twould not be long ere they would be ready to assault us again. The old knight frowned as he took in the scene. “We cannot withdraw yet.”
That was not welcome news. “Sir?” I turned my eyes to our own forces. Half were either dead or too badly injured to fight, and most of the rest were tired, wounded, or both. E’en if they could somehow repel a second assault, ‘twould only be a matter of time ere the rebel forces struck us from behind. Given that this fort had only held because of our personal intervention, it seemed safe to assume that others had fallen. “We cannot hold here. With our line compromised, they will outflank and destroy us.”
“Perhaps so.” He removed his helmet, inspecting it thoughtfully. “But we cannot know whether any of the other forts have fallen. I will grant it is possible, perhaps e’en likely, but ‘tis by no means certain. What if one of the other forts near us still holds? Our withdrawal could lead to their doom.” He sighed and shook his head. “I will send scouts and messengers to the other forts as quickly as possible to see if they hold, but I will not abandon the soldiers there just because they might have fallen to the enemy.”
‘Twas a noble course, yet one that could easily lead to disaster. In any defense, there comes a time when one must abandon their current position lest it be o’errun. The warrior who attempts to defend every point will inevitably waste his strength in last stands that might have been prevented by strategic withdrawals. The worst of it was that Crossguard likely knew this very fact, yet he remained unswayed. He would not wish to turn from battle and endanger the other forts, e’en though in all likelihood they had already fallen.
Howe’er, perhaps there was a way to more swiftly gain the needed information. “Sunbeam, canst thou travel to the other forts through the flames?”
“I could, so long as the fires have not been extinguished.” For a moment I dared to think we had found a solution, but Sunbeam quickly dashed those hopes. “Howe’er, I will not do so. We already emerged in the midst of one rebel attack by traveling through the flames. I will not risk finding myself in the middle of an entire rebel army next time. Though I could do appreciable damage with a good death curse, I would prefer to remain alive.”
Crossguard reluctantly nodded, waving the matter away. “So be it, then. Lady Shadow, Archmagus Sparkle, I thank the both of you for your aid in this matter. Howe’er, I cannot in good conscience order you to remain here. This may well be a doomed venture, and e’en if it is not, there are other fronts where your skills will be sorely needed. I hope I will be able to rejoin you once the battle is ended.” A faint smile graced his lips. “For all the risks of this course, I share Sunbeam’s preference for not dying. Sadly, the rebels do not seem inclined to accommodate our desires.”
“One’s enemies are usually most inconsiderate in that way.” I pondered my options, and reluctantly decided upon my course. “I wish you luck, Grandmaster. Once my clan arrives in force, we will drive towards your position posthaste.”
“Thank you, Shadow.” He opened his mouth to make some final parting remark, but paused and whipped his head about to face the rebel lines.
I followed his gaze and saw their ranks stirring. Though I had intended to make my departure shortly, I confess that my curiosity got the better of me. I wanted to see how the rebels intended to break Crossguard’s redoubt. Mayhaps ‘twould provide some warning of how they had managed to so quickly o’errun our position here. Such knowledge could be a valuable asset in the coming battles.
Howe’er, my hopes that the rebels might unveil some secret weapon came to naught. Instead, the cause of the disturbance became plain enough once Steel Striker emerged from amongst their ranks, accompanied by an escort of his clan’s best warriors, one of whom bore a white banner. As he drew near the fort, his eyes locked upon us. Moments later Steel confirmed his intentions. “Shadow. Crossguard. Parley?”
Crossguard looked to Sunbeam and myself for confirmation ere he answered. “Very well, Ephor Steel. I will parley with you.”
The laconic Ephor nodded, then waved his own escort back. “Leave the fort. Speak on neutral ground out of range of both our forces.”
Sunbeam’s voice dropped to a harsh whisper. “Need I say that this could be a trap, or is everypony here competent enough to have already considered that?”
No sooner had she made the suggestion then I found myself frowning and shaking my head. “I do not think Steel would play us false. The terms he offers would expose him to danger just as much as they do us. Perhaps moreso; with a wall to hide behind we could more easily prepare a hidden strike.”
“And perhaps we should do exactly that.” Sunbeam waved down towards our crossbow-wielders. “A single good shot from one of them could turn the course of this entire war.“
Crossguard was quick to rebuke her. “Few things are more dishonorable than attack in the middle of a parley. If we must resort to such dishonorable tricks to win, then perhaps we do not deserve to do so.” He looked the Ephor up and down, taking his measure. “I believe he speaks the truth also. Though we should not be blind, let us not assume false intent when he has not dealt dishonorably with us in the past. Let us meet with him. At the very least, it gives us time to withdraw our wounded.”
“Always thou art o’erly suspicious,” I chided. “Some day thou wilt learn that the warriors of Pegasopolis fight with honor.”
Sunbeam conceded the matter with a disgusted wave. “Aye, they have not betrayed us yet. But it only takes one betrayal to cost us dearly.”
Steel waited below our walls while we discussed the matter, his face an impassive, patient mask. One might have mistaken him for a statue, were it not for his occasional slight movement.
Crossguard nodded to Sunbeam, and the archmagus reluctantly opened a passage through her ice wall to allow us through. Steel awaited us at the passage’s exit, and Crossguard greeted him. “We will meet with you, Ephor. Please lead the way to your chosen neutral ground.”
Steel wasted no time doing exactly that. Once we had left crossbow range of our fort, he turned to face us. “Offering terms.” His eyes flicked to the base of the wall, where many fallen rebels yet remained. “Enough dead, ours and yours. Duel for it.”
Sunbeam’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “And only for the fort? Nothing else?”
The Ephor met her with a flat gaze. “Doubted you would accept more. Why offer?” ‘Twas oddly heartening to see that my old comrade from the Ephorate remained as laconic as e’er. “Who commands the fort?”
Crossguard stepped forward. “I do.”
Steel’s eyes passed o’er the old knight, and he nodded. “Us, then. If you accept.”
Crossguard’s own eyes evaluated his potential foe, no doubt measuring his chances in such a battle. “I will accept, on the condition that all of the ponies under my command are granted safe passage to leave should I be defeated.”
“Agreed.”
Crossguard nodded. “Then we are in accord.”
“One moment.” Sunbeam hastily interposed herself ‘tween the two combatants. “We surrender the fort if Crossguard is beaten, but there has been no talk of what will happen if he is victorious. We must have some prize from it.”
Steel was silent for some time, mulling o’er his response to that. “Information. Polaris’s army was betrayed from within. If I am beaten, you can have the name of that traitor, and all those who conspired with him. Second will tell you if I perish.”
Now that was an intriguing offer. Though Famous Spear yet lingered in our dungeons, accused of that very crime, I had always doubted his guilt. If Steel could confirm it, that might well put my doubts to rest. And if he were innocent, ‘twould be good to know of the hidden traitor in our midst ere they could strike again. “I judge the offer acceptable.”
“As do I.” Sunbeam’s voice dropped to a low murmur, “Assuming he speaks truly.”
“I would not dishonor myself with a lie,” Steel answered stiffly. A faint frown creased his face. “In truth, I mislike working alongside traitors.”
Sunbeam smirked. “A strange sentiment, coming from one of the leaders of a rebellion.”
Steel met that comment with a scowl, but did not dignify it with a verbal response. Instead he nodded to Crossguard, then stepped back several paces. Two of his own clanmates moved to his side, presumably to counter the presence of myself and Sunbeam. He spoke a few quick words with them, presumably instructing them as to the terms of the duel, and then the two withdrew. I took our cue from that and similarly withdrew from Crossguard’s side. Steel rolled his shoulders and spread his wings, readying himself for the coming battle.
Crossguard drew his own blade, then saluted Steel with a flourish. For his part, the Ephor merely nodded and then planted his hooves, waiting for the knight to begin the duel.
Grandmaster Crossguard warily approached him, his blade held out defensively to ward off any sudden strikes. For his part, Steel took no action beyond slight shifts to ensure that the knight remained squarely before him. At last Crossguard closed the distance, lashing out with a few quick jabs to take his opponent’s measure.
The first exchange revealed much. Steel did his best to block and counter the strikes, but his hammer hooves afforded far less reach that Crossguard’s longsword. Steel’s reactions were slow and ponderous, and e’en though Crossguard was the elder of the two, it seemed that Steel wore his years far more heavily. I was reminded of the tales I’d heard of the Ephor’s old war wounds, and how some days they pained him so badly he could barely rise from his bed. At the time I thought the stories exaggerated, but now that I saw Steel on the battlefield...
As Crossguard took his opponent’s measure, he grew more confident and began to press more aggressively. He was not so impetuous as Spark had been, and did not immediately try to finish the battle. He was e’er mindful of his defenses, wary of a possible counter-strike from Steel. ‘Twas entirely possible that the Ephor was feigning weakness in the hopes of drawing his foe in.
If so, he was putting on a performance worthy of the stage. Steel could only block half the strikes Crossguard directed at him, the rest clanging against his armor. To Steel’s credit, his plate seemed up to the task of deflecting the knight’s blows, but ‘twas only a matter of time before the blade found a weak point.
As Steel continued to fall back, Crossguard gave him a moment’s peace. That brief respite heralded greater danger, for the knight’s blade flashed with brilliant light. Steel’s eyes clamped shut against the sudden brightness, and Crossguard swiftly exploited the opening. With an extra moment to ready his strike he found a weakness, and his blades sliced at the vulnerable knee joint of Steel’s armor.
The blade crunched into the thin mail, and Steel grunted in pain. His leg nearly buckled underneath him, but he forced himself to keep his balance with a furious snarl. If his old war wounds did pain him so badly, then ‘twas likely he had a strong capacity for resisting the pain of fresh wounds as well.
Steel lunged for Crossguard, leading off from his unwounded foreleg. Howe’er, Crossguard anticipated the move and dodged the clumsy charge with a single deft sidestep. Crossguard’s maneuver left him in an excellent position to strike at Steel’s unwounded foreleg, and he promptly did so. Steel staggered at this second blow, giving Crossguard the opening he needed to strike a telling blow. His bladed stabbed out, sliding easily between a gap in the Ephor’s shoulder armor.
Steel fell back with a hiss of pain, and Crossguard’s blade was thick with blood when withdrew the tip. The Ephor fell to his knees, letting out a further groan of pain as his wounded joints struck the hard stone of the tunnel floor.
Crossguard withdrew from his opponent, holding his blade at the ready, but giving Steel time to recover his hooves. When Steel could not swiftly do so, Crossguard lifted the visor of his helm. “Well fought, sir. I will give you the opportunity to surrender honorably, Ephor. You have been wounded. There is no disgrace is forfeiting now.”
Steel grunted and slowly forced himself back to his hooves, rolling his wounded shoulder. “This?” He removed his own helm, then flexed his neck, showing a few of his old war wounds, then glanced back to his shoulder. “Just a scratch. Had worse.”
Crossguard’s eyes hardened, and he lowered the visor of his helm. “If that is your choice, then I shall honor it.” He brought his blade up to an en garde position. “I will offer mercy if you ask for it, but so long as you fight I will not shy from a killing blow.”
Steel softly chuckled, straightening his shoulders. “Understood. I will offer you the same terms.”
The old knight quietly shook his head. “Ah, the pride of Pegasopolis. Though I suppose I am guilty of that sin as well. If we are both too proud to submit, then this could only end with one of us dead.”
Crossguard closed in and swung at Steel’s legs once more, likely hoping to fully cripple one of them. Howe’er, Steel had anticipated the blow and took to his wings this time. While the tunnel ceiling was low, there was still room enough for him to clear Crossguard’s low-swinging blade. The Ephor then propelled himself forward with a powerful flick of his wings, closing in on Crossguard far more swiftly than his earlier lethargic efforts at defense.
Crossguard was caught badly off guard by the sudden advance, and his blade was out of position to prevent Steel from closing. He managed a last desperate swipe at the Ephor, striking at one of his wings, but the blow lacked enough force to bite too deeply and could not have stopped Steel’s advance in any case.
The blow seemed far too minor compared to the one Steel struck in return. His hammer hoof stove in Crossguard’s helm, bending the visor back and staggering the old knight. I doubt he could see or breathe properly after the damage Steel had inflicted on the helm. Though I could not see the old knight’s face, the blood pouring from the warped slit in his visor told a grim tale.
Crossguard blindly flailed about with his blade, desperately stepping backwards as he did so to buy himself a few precious seconds to recover. He frantically clawed at his damaged helm and finally managed to rip it fully off his head. Crossguard’s nose had clearly been broken by Steel’s blow, and it seemed he had cut the insides of his lips against his own teeth.
While Crossguard had managed to gain a few moment’s respite with his frantic swings, the effort quickly exhausted him, and then Steel moved in to finish him. The Ephor continued closing in, accepting more blows to his thick platemail in exchange for planting his hammer hooves in Crossguard’s face a second time.
‘Twas then that I realized Crossguard’s critical disadvantage. While the years had not taken his speed the way they had Steel’s, they had cost him his constitution. A younger warrior might have shaken off the strikes and carried on, but the old knight could not. Steel, by contrast, had become so accustomed to the pain of his old war wounds that he seemed unaffected by the injuries Crossguard left him with. He gladly accepted Crossguard’s blows just to gain the chance to strike his own, for he could easily afford to take three blows for every one he landed on the old knight.
Steel struck him again, and Crossguard’s hooves failed him, The Grandmaster stumbled and fell onto his side with a dazed, vacant look in his eyes. His face was a ruin; e’en if he somehow survived the battle, he would likely be unrecognizable afterwards. Steel looked down at his fallen foe and offered a final respectful nod. “Well fought. Pity you unicorns never learned to trade blood for victory.”
Steel reared up on his hind legs, preparing to deliver the deathblow. Howe’er, in that moment, he exposed the weaker armor of his underbelly to his foe.
Mayhaps Crossguard was not quite so badly wounded as he seemed, or mayhaps he had taken Steel’s lesson to heart. Whate’er the case, he managed another one of his spells that produced a blinding flash of light. In the instant that Steel was blinded and off-balance, Crossguard drew a stiletto and plunged it into Steel’s belly as many times as his failing strength allowed. As his foe shuddered from the blows, Crossguard answered his remark. “Blood for victory? No. F-fight to h-hurt the enemy. Blood—blood for blood... leaves ya ... bleeding out. What I always taught the squires.”
Steel howled in pain, the unexpected assault tumbling him onto his back, Crossguard’s sidearm still buried in the flesh of his stomach. As he fell, he twisted about, angling himself so that his falling momentum was enough to let him one last parting blow against his enemy. The strike smacked Crossguard hard across the muzzle, and once more the knight fell.
For some time both combatants lay on the ground. Both of them yet lived, though given the severity of their injuries I did not think either of them was likely to survive the battle. Steel perhaps might manage it, given how often he had failed to die in the past, but Crossguard looked far too fragile. In truth, ‘twas surprising that he had possessed enough strength to manage his final assault. More importantly for our immediate purposes, neither of them seemed capable of returning to their hooves.
Once I judged that enough time had passed, I stepped forward. “‘Twould seem neither of them is capable of continuing. Shall we call the match a draw?”
Steel’s second, a younger cousin whose name I could not recall, stepped forward and nodded. “Aye, I think we shall. Will you agree to a truce to withdraw them for medical attention?”
“I will.” I would have made the request myself had he not done so first. “An hour’s truce, then?
“Agreed.”
With that matter settled, chirurgeons from both sides rushed forward to tend to their wounded leaders. We quickly escorted Crossguard back to our fortress, but I could not fail to see the grim looks on the medicae’s faces. ‘Twould seem my assessment of Crossguard’s condition was accurate.
Sunbeam took a place at my side, her countenance grim. “I hope thou art ready to take command, Shadow. Crossguard will be lucky to survive the rest of the day, and e’en if he does somehow manage it, ‘twill be many long months ere he can take the field again. Stallions of age heal slowly when they heal at all.”
“Aye.” Now that the command was mine, I knew the first order I would have to give. Much as it galled me to countermand one of Crossguard’s last commands, there was no other choice. “We must withdraw. The position is untenable. The rebels will not attack us while the truce holds, but they can finish the rest of our forts and position their forces to crush us the instant it ends.”
My eyes turned once more to the chirurgeons tending Crossguard. Though I had only an outsider’s knowledge of medicine, I could see that their movements no longer held the urgency of those trying to save a life. They merely sought to give him what comfort they could before his passing. I turned to the Archmagus. “Canst thou aid the chirurgeons with Crossguard?”
“I will make the attempt.” Sunbeam strode o’er to Crossguard’s side, heaving her spells o’er the old knight. When she finished her initial work she turned to me, a deep frown on her face. “It may be within my power to save his life. ‘Tis hard to say; my healing is not gentle, and he is in a fragile state.”
Grim tidings, but no worse than I had expected. “So be it. I would rather kill him in an effort to save his life than stand idly by and do nothing as he slips away.”
Sunbeam nodded, but her countenance grew e’en darker. “That is not the full of it. E’en if I can save his life, his brain is badly damaged. What remains of his mind is ... not enough. He would live, aye, but as a mere shell of the stallion he once was. Likely he would need constant care and attention to merely survive and tend his most basic needs. Ending his days as a senile dotard seems a poor reward for such long service to Equestria.”
I considered those words and knew there could only be one answer. “Let him die as a knight of Equestria, then.” I could only pray that we would not join him for many years yet.
Crossguard breathed his last ere we arrived at the second line of defenses. Thankfully, the truce held, and we arrived unharassed to deliver his remains to his brother knights.
‘Twas a curious thing seeing the Knights of Sol Invictus take custody of their fallen grandmaster. I had fought and bled alongside Crossguard, yet I knew almost nothing of him beyond what we had shared on the battlefield and in the war room. Though he had once advised me on my daughter’s troubles, I did not know if he himself had any family. Was there a wife who would mourn his passing? Children who would take up his sword and swear to avenge him? Young grandchildren who would miss their kindly old grandfather?
It seemed all the more unfitting when I realized that I knew his killer far better. I had looked to Steel Striker as an ally and respected comrade, and stood at his side when he discovered the horror that had befallen his daughter and the ruin of his family. Though the Striker Clan would live on, Steel’s line would end with him. I knew his moods and his ways, tactics and his mindset, but had only begun to grasp Crossguard’s in his final days. Truly this war was a twisted, unnatural thing to have me know mine enemies better than mine allies.
Yet I could not afford the time to reflect ’pon his death, nor to mourn him. Our short respite from the rebel assault would end soon. The living needed me more than the dead, especially now that command had fallen upon my shoulders. If I did not attend my duty, many more of Crossguard’s knights would be buried alongside him. ‘Twould be a poor tribute to his heroism were I to let his order fall into ruin.
Some good news awaited us ’pon our arrival at the second line: the remainder of our forces had been mustered and armed. While the initial rebel assault had taken our front line by surprise and effectively destroyed it, we had at least acquitted ourselves well enough to prevent them from pressing the attack ‘gainst the second line as well. When the battle rejoined, the enemy would face our full strength, fresh and ready to meet them.
Sunbeam and I quickly sought out our fellow commanders, who had established a temporary headquarters in one of the old buildings left behind by the mining operations. Though the mining equipment itself had long been removed, the building had a few basic accommodations. There was room enough to allow us to discuss our tactics in relative peace and privacy, though with a light coating of dust on account of the recent construction of our fortifications, although when we sought reinforcing materials, much of the timber within the glorified tool shed seemed far too old and rotted to be trusted.
With Crossguard’s death, Noble Quest would presumably take up the mantle of Interim Grandmaster and leader of the unicorn soldiers, at least for the duration of the battle. (1) Greenwall was occupied holding another one of our defense points in the eastern section, and could not be spared long enough to join our council. That left myself, Noble, Gale, and Sunbeam for the impromptu war council.
1: The Order of Sol Invictus chooses its Grandmaster by means of open election where all of the Order’s knights may vote for any member of the Order they wish. While the new Grandmaster is usually one of the high-ranking officers within the Order who has a proven record of skilled command, exceptions do exist. In the election to replace Crossguard, the young war hero Radiant Day received quite a few votes, and might well have taken the post had he not deferred his candidacy in favor of more experienced leaders .
Gale, or mayhaps Noble, had taken the liberty of acquiring a rickety old table upon which Noble had unfurled the most current map we possessed of the tunnel complex, along with markers noting our positions. The chairs were every bit as worn, but served well enough for our purposes. ‘Twas a far cry from the Commander’s war room in her palace, but the battlefield has no time for such luxuries.
Noble Quest held command o’er this section of the line, and so ‘twas to him that I turned for briefing. “How do matters stand?”
The knight’s countenance was grim, though likely that was as much caused by his grandmaster’s death as by the course of the battle itself. “We have lost the first line entirely, and most of our positions were o'errun ere we even received word of the attack. They struck without warning, while most of our soldiers were on leave or attending other duties. We did not expect battle, and there was only a small picket force holding the area.”
I felt mine ear twitch. It was a regrettable lapse on our part, though perhaps an unavoidable one. I had only been in these tunnels for a short time, yet already the confined quarters and darkness pierced only by our illumination gems and torches pressed ‘pon me. No soldier would want to remain down in the dark for days or weeks at a time, save when necessity demanded it. Had we tried to maintain a full army of soldiers who ne’er saw the sun, morale inevitably would have buckled. Especially when the rebels had not deployed in force ‘gainst our positions, and the preparation for any such assault would be visible to them days in advance. Soldiers will bear great privations when they must to do their duty, but they will quickly grow discontented if they see their suffering as needless.
Crossguard and I had agreed that we could afford to keep the tunnels lightly held, rotating in fresh soldiers so none would linger o’erlong in darkness. ‘Twould seem we had erred, for I could not imagine that the loss of the first line would hurt morale any less than longer deployments would have.
Sunbeam scowled down the tunnel, her teeth clenched in irritation. “Pray tell, how is that we were taken so badly unawares? Were our scouts not closely monitoring the rebels? It sounds as though there was almost no warning of the attack ere it fell 'pon us, yet I was assured we would have at least a day’s notice ere they could mount a proper assault upon the walls.”
I frowned, “Aye, that is troubling indeed.” Mine attention shifted to my daughter, for Gale had command o’er our scouts and spies. “Have thy sources failed us in this matter? How did they miss the preparations for a major assault? You assured me that they had not e’en replaced the siege engines we destroyed at Avalon Vale.”
Unbidden, a dark thought entered my mind once more. Might my daughter have withheld information due to her sympathies with the rebel cause, or some lingering anger with me?
No sooner had the idea entered my mind then I worked to remove it. If Gale meant to betray me, I do not think she would have spoken so openly about her own doubts and temptations. A traitor would play the part of the loyal and unquestioningly dutiful daughter so that I would have no suspicion of her true motives. And that was not to mention that if Gale had truly betrayed me, she likely could have inflicted far more devastating losses ‘pon us, such as arranging for my death and then turning the clan to the rebel cause once she took command...
Gale cleared her throat and stepped forward. “I am afraid ‘twill be somewhat difficult to gain a full evaluation of why our intelligence failed until I have the time for a proper investigation. Howe’er, from what I have been able to gather from our scouts, 'twould seem the rebels mustered their forces and left their camps to assault the forts in surprisingly quick order.” She scowled, one of her wings flicking in irritation. “Either the enemy has very effectively evaded our efforts at scouting and compromised all of mine intelligence assets, or they managed to organize the attack so swiftly that they struck ere we could learn of it.”
The latter possibility rang truer to me. If the enemy had so thoroughly compromised our information-gathering capacity, they would have achieved far better results. “Thou wouldst propose that our scouts and spies missed no preparations for a massive attack because none were made?” As I considered the explanation, it seemed the strongest possibility. “They had to have known that we were watching them closely, and likely suspected that we had agents in their camp. They crafted this offensive to keep us as blind as possible. Likely only a few ponies knew of the planned assault ere it was launched.”
Noble frowned and shook his head. “But committing to an assault on a fortified position without careful planning and detailed preparation would be suicide! ‘Twould reduce their army to little more than an onrushing mob of armed soldiers heading in roughly the same direction.”
“And is that not precisely what happened?” Gale countered. “From what reports I have been able to gather, Interim Grandmaster, all of the forts were assaulted at more or less the same time, with none seeming to be a particular focus for a main thrust against our defenses. Correct me if I am wrong, but would they not only have needed to penetrate one of our forts in order to compromise the whole defense line?” She shrugged. “They needed no grand plan to break us; ‘twas enough to strike like a rushing wave and wait to let the water seep through every crack in our line.”
The metaphor did not leave the best image, though I privately consoled myself with the countering metaphor that rocky cliffs have resisted the pounding of the surf for centuries at a time. Pity our defenses were not a cliff, and the rebel army was not water. “The tactic seems to have served them well enough. Our defense was every bit as disorganized as their attack, and on the whole the rebel army has better field commanders than we do.” I paused to acknowledge Noble Quest. “Meaning no offense to the Order and its knights, but your soldiers are only a small part of our forces.”
The knight waved away mine apology. “I take no offense, for ‘tis an undeniable truth. We might have forged our conscripts into fine soldiers, but we lack for good sergeants and junior officers. Natural leaders like Greenwall are few and far between.”
With that point of pride settled, I rubbed my head and continued my line of thought. “In such a wild and chaotic battle, ‘twould rest on the junior officers to keep their soldiers in line and moving towards their objectives. Thus, such conditions favor the enemy.”
Sunbeam huffed in irritation. “I will add swelling and improving our junior officers’ ranks to the long list of problems we will need to address in the future. Though I recall Crossguard saying that it can take years of training and combat experience to make a good junior officer or sergeant. Since we are unlikely to have several spare years to refine our officer corps, perhaps we should focus our energies ‘pon the matters that can be dealt with in a timely fashion?”
“Though there is little we can do to address the matter in the immediate future, it seems prudent to know where our strengths lie compared to those of the enemy,” I answered tersely. Howe’er, her broader point was not lacking in merit. There was little point in lingering on weaknesses that could take years to address whilst surviving the coming day was yet uncertain.
Therefore, I turned mine attention to the threat before us. “The attack was bold, aggressive, and daring. It suits Bright’s command style.”
My daughter let out a mocking gasp. “The attack matches the style of the enemy army’s acting commander. What an unexpected development, Mother! Mayhaps next we will learn that bears frequently leave their dung in the forests?”
I was in no mood to patiently endure my daughter’s mockery, howe’er harmless. Thankfully, Sunbeam took control of the discussion ere I could speak any heated words to Gale or clip her upside the head. “If she is as bold and fearless as Shadow says, why has she not followed up her success? Every moment she delays grants us additional time to prepare our second line and bring in rested forces from the city. Our forces have quadrupled in the mere minutes since Shadow and I arrived.”
“Mayhaps she does not attack because she cannot,” Noble Quest suggested, indicating several points on his map. “Her force needs time to reorganize and dress its ranks. At the moment, the rebel soldiers are likely scattered all throughout the tunnels. Any attempt at an attack would be more akin to a slaughter, feeding isolated squads into the grinder of our fortress line.”
“So she will take time to consolidate her position first.” Sunbeam scowled down at the map. “And once she has done so, what will her next move be? Another similar attack?”
I immediately shook my head. “Neigh, that seems unlikely. Bright is no fool—she knows she will not take us unawares again, and without surprise, that stratagem is likely to end in bloody failure. Our full forces are manning the second line and ready to receive any attack. One cannot o’erwhelm a ready fortification with a wild charge. ‘Twould be akin to throwing sticks at a stone wall.”
“She can only manage a surprise attack once,” Noble Quest agreed, staring down at the map. “Another likely reason for the current delay is precisely that: she needs time to evaluate our second line and decide upon a new strategy.”
Sunbeam’s eyes narrowed, and she let out an annoyed breath. “And what shall we do in the meantime? I trust we have some plan beyond cowering behind our walls and waiting for her next blow to fall?”
“Of course we do.” I had no desire to fight a war from behind a wall. Though I knew our position required a defensive posture, that went against all mine instincts as a warrior. Pegasi do not hide behind walls—we fly o’er them to slaughter the cowards who use them. Yet now fate had tasked me with holding a wall against mine own kind.
Howe’er, perhaps there was a way to hold the line without hiding behind it. “Mayhaps a counterattack would be prudent if they are disordered? We might e’en manage to drive them back and reclaim our first line of fortifications.”
“A line which I should point out was already rent asunder by the rebels.” Sunbeam angrily swiped a hoof o’er the line on the map, smudging the ink. “E’en if we do push them that far back, we will be left holding broken, indefensible ruins.”
Gale nodded, the creasing of her brow speaking of her displeasure at agreeing with Sunbeam. “Aye, we cannot reclaim our old positions unless we can be sure of having time to repair them. Howe’er, I still think there is merit in a more limited attack simply to sow chaos in the enemy ranks. ‘Twould ensure they gain no more this day.” Her eyes flicked towards the exit of our impromptu headquarters. “‘Twould also provide a much-needed boost to our soldiers’ morale. Their confidence has been badly shaken by the sudden loss of the front line, and we cannot let our work at Avalon Vale be undone. If our own forces fear they cannot match the enemy in open battle...”
Noble cleared his throat. “While all you say is true, we must consider the battlefield. This is not Avalon Vale—this is a battle in dark, cramped, and isolated tunnels. There are risks here that we did not face before. We cannot see any threats beyond what lies directly before us, or easily communicate between our forces. Maneuvering will be slow, and far too often the left hoof will not know what the right is doing.” He pointedly traced out the spiderweb of tunnels criss-crossing the mountain. “With poor communication and maneuverability, we might well find large portions of our forces isolated, surrounded, and destroyed without e’en knowing of it until the enemy presents us with their corpses.” His somber tone and choice of words made it clear he disapproved of this plan, though he was mayhaps too courteous to openly call it folly.
“That would make caution the prudent choice,” Sunbeam opined. “E’en moreso since the hour’s truce we gained from the fight ‘tween Crossguard and Striker is nearly ended. The rebels can follow time as well as we can, and will surely either have prepared their own attack or made ready to receive our counterstroke.”
I reluctantly agreed with their analysis. There were many risks involved in a counterattack, and while I was not averse to a certain level of risk in warfare when the rewards justified it, this seemed too much. Better to consolidate our position and only venture from it once we were certain the second line would hold. I turned to Noble Quest. “If the rebels attack us again, where is their main strike likely to fall?”
The knight immediately pointed to a particularly byzantine tunnel complex. “Our defenses are weakest in the Western Tunnels, though I do not know if they can actually manage a proper strike in that area. Those tunnels are a maze we still have not fully unraveled. Since we do not have a fully satisfactory map of the area despite holding it, I rather doubt the enemy does. They would likely lose most of their attack force without e’er seeing our defenses.” (2)
2: After the war, there were rather persistent rumors of lost rebel or loyal soldiers still wandering the tunnels, or even forming hidden societies deep underground. In all likelihood these were inspired by the story of Tall Tale, a rebel deserter who managed to live out most of the war by hiding in a small cave far from the fighting and subsisting on a diet of mildly poisonous mushrooms. Once he got out of the hospital, he managed to gain brief celebrity by publishing a grossly exaggerated account of his adventure. I suspect that the mushrooms he ate were hallucinogenic; his claim that he kept a pet ursa which befriended him after he cleaned its teeth is rather obviously dubious, as is his claim to have been appointed as Celestia’s ambassador to the mole people.
Sunbeam answered his assurances with a dismissive wave, and a note of lowborn coarseness entered her voice. “Perhaps any attack would be kind enough to lose its way, but I do not think we should trust our defenses to fortune. She has always been a fickle bitch, and this day has already shown that she does not favor us.”
I rubbed my chin, staring down at the map in the vain hope that I might find some brilliant insight which had eluded me thus far if I studied it a few moments longer. “Aye. I am disinclined to simply do nothing and hope the rebel attack force loses its way. Tell me more of the Western Tunnels.”
Noble Quest nodded and dutifully did so. “The area is one of the oldest sections of the mines—old enough that many of the proper mining tunnels have collapsed, and others are in danger of doing so if heavily used. Every tunnel that collapses opens up new passageways that might lead to anywhere in the network, or nowhere at all.” He sighed, running a hoof along the bridge of his nose. “Trying to fortify the area has been a nightmare, and that was before we needed to worry about rebel attacks.”
“Wonderful,” Sunbeam groused, glaring sourly at the map as if it were somehow to blame for our troubles. “And I suppose we cannot simply establish one fort where these western tunnels connect to rest of the network?”
Noble tapped a line drawn across one of the tunnels. “We have attempted to do exactly that with our fort here, but the condition of the tunnels has been slowing our work. We have had to spend as much time reinforcing the ceiling as actually building walls. Not to mention that since we don’t have the Western Tunnels fully mapped, we cannot guarantee that the fortress is safe from being outflanked.”
Sunbeam stared thoughtfully down at the map. “How likely dost thou think they are to attack there?”
“It depends on how much they know from scouting, spies, and any prisoners they captured.” The knight frowned at the thought that others of his order might be facing interrogation e’en as we spoke. “It is the weakest point of our defenses, milady. If they are aware of that fact, then it will almost certainly be the focus of their next assault. If they are unaware of the weakness, they will likely begin the next attack with scouting probes, which might well uncover it in any case.”
“Thy point is well taken, Noble Quest.” Mine eyes drifted to what lay behind the second line. “What is the condition of our third line of fortification?”
“Incomplete,” the knight answered tersely. “I have our engineers and miners working to correct that as swiftly as possible, but one cannot build a proper fortress in a few hours. Especially not with our resources limited by the siege and most of our strength deployed for battle.”
I turned to the map, trying to visualize the narrow lines of the tunnel network as a mental image of the battlefield so that I might think upon how to resolve the current situation. “We must not allow the enemy to find any weakness in our line. If it is broken in one place, the rest will quickly crumble, and we cannot fall back any further. We must hold the Western Tunnels.” I closed mine eyes, trying to imagine the maze of cramped, intersecting tunnels. As I did, I realized the answer to my current situation. “This warren of tunnels seems an ideal place to lay a few ambushes. We know the terrain better than the enemy, and they will have difficulty responding in such tight quarters.”
A slow smile crept onto my daughter’s face. “Aye. We can harry them relentlessly if Bright attacks the area in force, and if she sends in scouts to find a path for her main force, we can dispose of them and leave the rebels blind. We will need a few of the miners who know the tunnels to guide our forces, but I am sure that can be arranged.”
Noble wasted no time confirming it. “They are civilians, though. I do not think they would care for serving on the frontlines of war. Howe’er, I am sure we can persuade them by appealing to their duty to Queen Celestia.”
“And perhaps some additional hazard pay,” Sunbeam added with a smirk. “Patriotism is all well and good, but I find gold to be much more reliable.” She considered that for a moment, then shrugged. “Though this war is going to be rather painful for the royal treasury, so perhaps we should try appealing to their sense of duty first.” (3)
3: Considering the economic slump Equestria suffered after the war, I have to agree with Sunbeam on this one.
I waved the matter aside with an irritated growl. “Motivate them howe’er thou wilt, so long as they provide the needed information. I have ne’er understood why some civilians are so fearful of battle.”
“Likely because they do not have a lifetime of training to prepare them for it,” Sunbeam answered with a wry smirk. “That is why we call them civilians.” The remark earned a hastily choked-off snort of laughter from my daughter, which only widened Sunbeam’s smile. “So, whom shall we send in to do the actual ambushing? I would prefer to reserve my magi for more open battlefields, where their skills would see better use.”
“The Order has ne’er been especially skilled at ambush warfare,” Noble Quest opined. “’Twould seem Sunbeam’s jest had lightened his own mood, for he added, “I suspect we have ne’er fully recovered from Grandmaster Forthright’s declaration that camouflage is the color of cowardice.”
That left only one option, though e’en if Sunbeam and Noble had asked for the duty I would have reserved it for my clan. Pride stirred in my breast as I declared, “There are no better ambush fighters in all Equestria than the ponies of the Kicker Clan. I will take a force into the Western Tunnels and see to it.”
Sunbeam’s countenance darkened at my declaration, and she let forth a long-suffering sigh, murmuring something most unkind under her breath. When she addressed me properly her tone was reproachful. “Is that wise, Shadow? Who is in o’erall command of our forces at this critical moment?”
“I am.”
The Archmagus spoke with exacting slowness, as if I were a dull-witted child. “And should the commander of Canterlot’s defenses abandon the walls to lead a detachment on a high-risk mission where she will be out of contact with the rest of her army? An army in desperate need of her leadership and support for their wavering morale?”
Though there was logic to her words, I did not agree with them. “A commander's place is at the frontlines with their soldiers. How will morale fare if I do not face the dangers of battle alongside my clanmates? I heard no objection from thee when Crossguard led from the front.”
“Yes, and look how well that ended.” Sunbeam’s callous tone regarding the Grandmaster’s death made Noble Quest stiffen in barely contained fury, but she did not deign to notice his offence. “A commander's place is where she is most needed to win a battle. Right now, this army needs a strong and confident leader, not another pair of blades cutting down scouts in the dark.”
I could see no easy counter to her argument. “Gale? Thine opinion?”
Gale met mine eyes. “I agree with Archmagus Sparkle, Mother. Your place is here, where you can command the whole army.” She drew in a deep breath. “I will lead the force in the Western Tunnels.”
I misliked the idea of sending Gale so far from my side, and she had ne’er held command o’er so large a force before. Her first command should not be in such a critical front. “Neigh. Thy talents would be best used at my side.”
Gale was not pleased by mine answer—wounded pride and a hint of sullen resentment burned in her eyes. ‘Twould seem not all the wounds of our earlier discord had been healed. No doubt she had also hoped to earn some measure of glory on the battlefield. ‘Tis a common impulse of young soldiers. “By your word, Mother.”
Sunbeam chuckled. “I ne’er would have thought to see Shadow Kicker carefully keeping her children in their nest. Very well; if not thine own daughter, then who else wouldst thou trust with this task?”
Noble Quest cleared his throat. “If I might be so bold, I have command experience and am quite familiar with Crossguard's maps.”
I was uncertain of accepting his offer. Though I would not hesitate to fight alongside the Order’s knights or to put a few of my soldiers at the Order’s disposal, ‘twas quite another thing to put a unicorn in charge of a clan battleforce. Howe’er, I was sure the knights were every bit as uncertain when placing their forces under my command. If we intended to have a single unified army, then I could not insist that no outside pony e’er hold command of a clan force. My clan’s pride was not more important than the army’s unity.
My mind resolved, I nodded to the unicorn knight. “Work closely with Sergeant Stalwart. He is no officer, but he knows the soldiers well and will be a great asset.” I turned to my daughter. “Gale, send out scouts and consult thy contacts. Find an opportunity for a limited counterstrike. Ideally, an isolated detachment we can entirely destroy. I want to hurt them, and as importantly, I want our soldiers to see that we still can hurt them. When the chance comes, thou wilt lead that strike.”
Gale took this news far better than she had my previous declaration, a tight smile on her lips. “At once, Mother.”
“Good.” I turned to the last of our number. “Sunbeam, thou knowest thy magi far better than I. Use them to make life unpleasant for the enemy. Kill them if thou canst, but more than that, I want them disrupted and demoralized. Target the field commanders. If Bright is keeping her command structure decentralized, then we will destroy them piecemeal.”
Sunbeam answered me with a cold, hungry smile. “If I might make a suggestion, have thy counterstrike force the enemy into a tightly packed area. The tighter they are squeezed in, the more my magi can destroy in a single swoop. We will turn these tunnels into a death trap.”
“Aye.” I glanced down at the map one last time, committing as much of it as I could to memory. “They have driven us back onto ground we know far better than they do. Ground we have spent more than a month preparing for this battle…” Despite everything, I could not resist a dark smirk. “Ere this day is done, I intend to make them regret that.”
When the truce finally passed, we were greeted with an unexpected sight. Rather than an enemy offensive or e’en a few probes to test our defenses and resolve, envoys approached our gates: Bright Charger herself, with her son Dusk bearing the truce flag. ‘Twas a surprisingly small escort for the acting commander of the rebel forces.
Sunbeam scowled down at the two of them. “I trust I do not need to remind thee how badly it went the last time we bargained with the rebels?”
I shook my head. “I will not accept a duel with Bright, though she will surely either offer me one or have Lance challenge me yet again. We would gain nothing from the battle, and I know full well that I am unlikely to best either of them in combat.”
“Indeed.” A pleased smirk crossed Sunbeam’s face. “Especially since I have no more tanglehoof to offer thee for this meeting.”
I chuckled softly. “I doubt Lance would let herself be taken by surprise again. I half-expect she will have modified her helmet since I last saw her. A protective grille o’er the mouth and nose would seem a prudent addition.”
That earned me a dry chortle from the mare, but the mirth did not last. “It occurs that since thou art unlikely to yield the fort to her without a battle nor face her in a duel, there is little point to negotiating with her at all.”
“We do not know what Bright wishes of us,” I countered. “It may be something as benign as making arrangements for us to recover our dead for proper burial, or perhaps a new offer to exchange Rightly for the magi, now that they believe themselves in a stronger bargaining position. Or it may e’en be that Steel died of his wounds, and she has come in his stead to fulfill his promise to name the traitor who struck down Polaris’s army.”
Sunbeam answered with an annoyed huff. “Oh very well then, do as thou wilt.” I knew her well enough to grasp that this was as close as pride would allow her to come to conceding that I was correct, and more importantly, that she was wrong. “Shall I accompany thee?”
“Neigh.” I looked down at Bright once more. “Her son accompanies her; it seems fitting to have my daughter at my side for the talks.”
“Then I shall remain at the walls and keep a close watch for treachery.”
With that matter settled, I wasted no time securing Gale and a truce flag. The gates opened within a few short minutes, and we walked out to meet the rebel leader.
As I approached Bright, I noticed a tension in her limbs and her eyes’ fixation upon me. Her son’s eyes similarly lingered on Gale, though I suspect his reasons were not as strictly martial as Bright’s. She had exchanged her usual jousting lance for a lighter version with a thinner shaft and larger head. ‘Twould not stand up to the force of a high-speed aerial charge, but ‘twas far better suited to the close-quarters combat we would face in the tunnels.
When I drew up a few paces away from Bright, I espied a wild light in her eyes. She must have only just arrived from some other battlefront if a measure of battle lust yet stirred within her. When she said nothing, I broke the silence. “You requested this meeting, Bright. What is it you desire?”
“What I desire?” Bright turned her back to me, slowly pacing around her son. “I desire many things. Victory in this war. Freedom for Pegasopolis and the earth ponies. An end to Celestia’s rule o’er Equestria. But above all else, I want what any mother who sends her children into the maw of war prays for: for all of them to return to my breast when this madness is ended. There is nothing more foul or unnatural than for a parent to bury their child.”
Mine own eyes turned to Gale, lingering long upon her. “Aye,” I agreed. “What mother could not pray for that?”
Bright took a deep breath, then slowly let it out. “My greatest desire ... yet I have already lost it.”
She whirled about, and something slammed into my breastplate. Bright’s lips drew back in a furious snarl, and she shouted so loudly that I could feel spit striking my face. “You stole that from me when you murdered my daughter! Now all I have is vengeance.”
Pain exploded in my chest, as if mine entire body had caught fire. My legs trembled and finally gave way beneath me, yet I did not immediately fall to the ground. Mine eyes finally left Bright’s enraged face, drifting down to try and find the cause of my sudden weakness. Then I saw what had taken me in the chest: Bright Charger’s lance.
Gale shrieked and lept at the Ephor, but Dusk met her halfway. I tried to shout at her to run, but instead bloody froth erupted from my lips. She was so focused on mine own plight that she did not see Dusk until he struck her down with a quick blow to the head.
One of my wings twitched in a feeble effort to bring my blades to bear, but Bright contemptuously swatted the attack aside with a single armored foreleg. The wound I left behind was barely e’en noticeable, and I had no strength left to make another attempt. I could not e’en focus enough to activate their enchantments. Flames flicked across them for a moment, then slowly died.
The shaft of Bright’s weapon finally gave way with an audible snap, and I fell to the cavern floor. Fresh agony erupted from my chest, yet I could not e’en scream.
The last thing I saw was Bright Charger’s hate-filled face. “A better death than you deserve, but at least it is death.”
Darkness claimed me.
“Mother, what have you done?”
Mother jerked her lance’s head free of Shadow Kicker’s body. “I have avenged my daughter.”
“By attacking Shadow beneath a truce flag.” I quickly set about securing Gale’s wings. I had felled her with a lucky blow while she was still in shock from her mother’s murder, but ‘twould not be long ere she recovered. I had not wished her violence, but had I not acted, she would have attacked Mother. Though I was quite horrified by the attack on Shadow, she was still my mother, and I could not leave her undefended. I misliked the idea of making Gale a prisoner in such a treacherous assault, but I did not want to risk Mother taking her life as well. There would be a certain cruel poetry in murdering Shadow’s daughter to avenge Lance’s death—I could only pray Mother would deem such an act pointless with Shadow slain and unable to bear witness.
Lance. I suppose I ought to be as furious as mother o’er her death—that I should share her bloodlust and demand the deaths of all Shadow’s clanmates as recompense for it. Yet instead I merely felt empty. I took no satisfaction from Shadow’s death, and Lance’s account of the clash between them inclined me to think that Shadow herself had not wished Lance any ill. Where Mother saw righteous vengeance, I saw naught but more blood soaking the ground. And I knew there would be more to come.
A furious cry from the fortress informed me that there was little time to wax philosophical. “Mother, I suggest we withdraw ere the entire loyalist army decides to avenge the commander we just betrayed and murdered.” My words grew hotter than I would have expected. “Will you help me carry off her daughter, or would you prefer to leave her free to avenge her mother’s death? Perhaps you would like to murder her whilst she lies beaten and helpless?” There might have been a slight note of condemnation in my voice.
Thankfully, she did not turn her weapon upon my prisoner—it seemed that the unicorn army mustering for an attack interested her more than Shadow’s daughter. “Do as thou wilt with her, I care not,” Mother snarled, readying what remained of her broken lance. “Let Celestia’s dogs come. I will kill Sunbeam Sparkle and every other miserable pony who stands ‘tween me and Celestia. Though ‘twas Shadow who did the deed, doubtless ‘twas her queen who gave the order. My vengeance has barely e’en begun!”
“Mother!” I quickly placed myself in her path, trying to force her away from the fort. “If you insist upon this course, you will surely die!”
She tried to bull her way past me, but I did not give her an inch of ground. When I did not stand aside, she growled in frustration. “Move, damn thee! So long as I see the life fading from Celestia’s eyes ere I take my last breath, I shall be content to join my beloved daughter. Let them bury us together and make this mountain our cairn.”
I could endure no more. “And what of the rest of your children?” A mad rage took me, and I shoved her back with all my strength. “Do you love us all so little that you will force us to bury our mother and our sister on the same day? Myself, Thunder, Flash, Dawn, Shield, and the others! Do we mean nothing to you, now that Lance is dead? I beg you, for the sake of what remains of our family, let it end here!”
A dozen emotions flickered o’er Mother’s face in as many seconds. Anger. Frustration. Sorrow. Determination. Uncertainty. Finally, she offered a single tired nod and slowly turned her back on the enemy fortress. “Yes. Lance would not want me to throw away my life and double thy losses.” She cast her broken weapon aside. “At the very least, I should properly rearm myself ere I venture once more to the frontlines.”
“Yes, quite. Thunder and Flash can adequately represent the clan until you are ready to retake the field.” I privately resolved to do whate’er I could to prevent Mother from returning to the battlefield until her blood had cooled. I did not want her taking the field again—in part because I feared to lose her when she had so little regard for her own safety, but also because she might dishonor herself further. I was still stunned that she had struck Shadow down in such a way; I had expected an honorable duel, not wanton murder in the midst of a parley.
Mother stalked off, leaving me to carry Gale unaided. She had awoken from the blow I had struck her head, but thankfully her mind seemed muddled and she was in no condition to resist me. A part of me was sorely tempted to leave her behind on the pretense that I was unable to carry her. Howe’er, I had my duty to Pegasopolis and my clan. ‘Twas fortunate that she favored light armor.
We shortly encountered our own front line, rushing up to meet the incoming attack from the loyalist forces. They quickly parted ranks around myself and Mother as best they could within the narrow confines of the tunnels, but e’en so it took us some time to make the journey. I was most relieved when we finally won free of the tunnels and returned to the open sky, allowing me to move without a constant press of bodies ‘gainst me.
I quickly rushed ahead of Mother, using the excuse that I needed to secure my prisoner. Gale still seemed rattled from the blow to her head, and likely in shock from witnessing her mother’s death, but I was sure she would become quite fearsome once the pain passed. Given her enmity towards me, I did not want to be too near her once that occurred. I might be fond of the mare, but I did not doubt I would be her first target if she were to lash out in blind, vengeful fury.
Thankfully, it seemed that after all that had occurred that day, fate or fortune decided I had earned a small boon. Gale was still insensible when I hastily bound her in my clan’s command tent. ‘Twas a poor prison for a mare of Gale’s skills, but ‘twould have to serve until we could transport her to Cloud 327.
I hesitated a moment, then gently gripped her shoulder. “I am sorry for thy loss, Gale. I cannot feel sorrow at the death of the mare who slew my sister, e’en though ‘twas not her intention to do so, but I know the pain of losing a beloved family member all too well. I would wish that upon nopony. Especially not thee.”
She regarded me with blank, unseeing eyes. ‘Twas as if she were a puppet with the strings severed. Seeing her in such a sorry state pained me far more than I expected. I was tempted to offer some minor provocation, in the hopes that she might regain some of her old vigor by insulting me. Perhaps I would do so if her state persisted, but at that moment a jest would have seemed far too macabre. Instead, I tried once more to offer comfort. “I will see to it that thy needs are well tended, and thou dost not want for anything that can reasonably be provided for thee in thy captivity.”
When she again provided me with no response, I reluctantly took my leave, assigning two guards to watch the tent’s exit. I could not afford to spend my time comforting a prisoner when our forces were locked in battle. I had yet to take action to mitigate the damage Mother’s temper might have done to our cause or to prevent her from retaking the field as soon as she replaced her broken weapon.
The second problem was easily resolved. Shield remained in Lance’s tent, still in a daze o’er our sister’s death. I might have been much the same were it not for my duty propelling me e’er forward. How could I mourn my sister when I had been thrust into battle mere minutes after her death? So long as I remained buried under new tasks, I could forestall my sorrow.
My brother was idly toying with one of Lance’s old helms when I entered her tent. “Shield.” My brother turned to face me, fumbling and dropping the helm as he did so. “I have a task for thee. Mother has damaged her lance and will soon be here for a new one.”
My little brother sprang to his hooves with an eager flap of his wings. I suspect he hoped to lose himself in work much as I did. “I will retrieve one for her at once.”
“Not so quickly, dear brother.” I dropped down to one knee so I might whisper into his ear. “I want you to go into the armory, find Mother’s lances, and snap the shafts of every single one of them.”
His jaw dropped. “Wh-what? Dusk, is this some sort of jest? Mother would be furious if I were to damage her equipment!”
“Then I would suggest that thou dost exercise discretion in thy task.” I suppose I should have done more to convince him of this course, but there was no time to play the diplomat when Mother might arrive at any moment. “I am thine elder, so see it done. If Mother is displeased, I shall bear the guilt for it. And I shall take thee as my squire if thou dost this task for me.” (1)
1: The usage of this term seems to be a consequence of cultural bleedover between pegasi and unicorns, since the general concept of knights and squires wasn’t a part of Pegasopolan culture. Most likely the pegasi adopted the term because the practice was effectively the same, lack of titles aside: a young warrior-in-training is apprenticed to an older, more experienced one who is usually either a clanmate or a close friend of one.
That won him to my cause, and the young colt rushed out to do my bidding. None too soon, for I had only just returned to Mother’s command tent when she arrived. She halted at the entrance and glowered at the bound Gale. Sensing danger, I hastily placed myself ‘twixt the two. Mother’s eyes narrowed for a moment, but she turned away with a snort. Now that we were outside the close quarters of the tunnels, I could finally take a proper look at her: she looked drawn and pale, as if she had aged a dozen years o’er the course of this day. Small surprise, given what we had suffered. Shadow’s blood yet lingered on her armor.
She trod into the tent, very slightly favoring one of her legs as she did so. “Those tunnels are a nightmare. The journey took five times as long as it should have. If we do not crush Celestia’s pets today, we will have to put what engineers we have to work widening the tunnels so that we can move our forces with any appreciable speed.” She trotted to the table and refilled her waterskin from a waiting pitcher. “I trust thou hast already set about procuring me fresh equipment so that I might rejoin the battle?”
“I have set Shield to the task.” Mother seemed satisfied with that answer, so I set to work fulfilling my promise to the young colt. “I had thought to take him on as my squire, now that Lance will no longer...” The remaining words died in my throat, for I could not bring myself to speak any further about her.
Mother fell silent for a long moment, then slowly shook her head. “Neigh. I do not deny thee for doubt of thy skills, but because I intend to keep Shield far away from any battlefield for the rest of the war. I will not bury another child.”
Alas, my promise to the lad would be broken. Though I could not fault Mother for that desire. “I suppose I shall have to wait until after the war to take him as an apprentice, then.”
“That should be acceptable,” Mother answered with a dismissive wave.
With that matter settled, I took a deep breath and tentatively broached a new topic. “Mother, I would advise you to make a statement of some sort once the battle is ended. The damage to your reputation and that of the rebel cause would be significantly diminished if you apologized for the trucebreaking and explained that Lance perished from wounds caused by Shadow mere hours before you met her. ’Twould not wholly cleanse the crime, but many would understand and sympathize with your actions.”
“I will not apologize for avenging my daughter’s murder,” Mother snapped, scowling furiously at me. “Let the world judge me as they will, but I am glad she is dead and only hope she suffers in whate’er awaits us beyond life’s ending.”
I could think of no fitting response, and ‘twas plain that I would accomplish nothing by further pursuing the matter. The two of us remained in silence for a short time while I waited for Shield to finish his sabotage mission. When the tent’s flap stirred I expected to see the young colt come to report his success, but while ‘twas a younger brother who arrived, ‘twas Flash who entered rather than Shield.
My brother had seen better days. More than half his silvery armor was coated in black soot, and his mane and tail were both missing large portions, as if he had let them rest too near a campfire. Given Archmagus Sparkle’s presence on the field, ‘twas not hard to guess at the cause of Flash’s sorry condition. Howe’er, most tellingly there was a slackness to his expression, a dull glaze o’er his eyes and a heavy slump to his wings. I had seen that look on soldiers before and steeled myself for grim tidings.
If Mother placed any importance on my brother’s battle wounds, she revealed none of it. “Flash. I take it thy brother is representing the clan on the field. I will be rejoining our forces shortly. How fares the battle?”
“Poorly.” Flash moved to nearby seat and fell heavily into it. He stare blankly ahead until Mother pointedly cleared her throat. When he spoke his voice was flat and emotionless, as if he were so drained that he could barely muster the strength to speak. “The loyalists succeeded in recovering Shadow’s body. The enemy fought with a fury I have rarely seen, whilst our forces fight with half their usual zeal.” Though Flash was displaying rare prudence in not saying so, ‘twas easy enough to guess at the cause for those morale issues. Treachery leaves a sour taste in the mouth of all true warriors.
Flash groaned and upended his waterskin, pouring the contents o’er his face. It seemed to rouse him from his stupor. “I ... Thunder and I felt our forces needed a victory of some sort to buoy our spirit. Unfortunately, there was only one enemy commander on the field who made a suitable target.”
His state made the target of his challenge plain enough, and my stomach clenched at the confirmation of my fears. Thunder’s absence was not on account of maintaining our clan’s presence on the frontline. I tried to keep the horror from my voice. The twins had always been bold idiots, but... “Tell me the two of you were not so foolish as to challenge Sunbeam Sparkle to single combat?”
Flash sighed heavily. “Would that I could, dear brother. Though ‘twas not single combat; she was willing to face myself and my brother at once. She declared her intention to destroy Mother and all her family line, and boasted that she saw no reason not to slay two birds with a single stone. I thought the advantage of numbers might allow us to prevail ‘gainst her.” His eyes flicked guiltily about the room. “We only wanted to earn our share of the glory. Lance and Mother had their victories; why should we not have ours too?”
Mother’s eyes locked upon his with the intensity of a hawk. “Where is thy brother?”
Flash’s eyes fell to the ground. “He ... he is...” He could not bring himself to say the words, which was answer enough.
A scream of fury rent the air, and Mother brought an armored hoof down upon the water urn, smashing it to pieces. I noted that the water dripping into the grass had a distinct pinkish hue. I suppose a shard of pottery must have found its way within her armor and pierced her flesh, though I could not imagine how that might have happened.
“Another one! ” she shouted to the heavens. “Two of mine own flesh and blood in a single day!? Was my firstborn not enough? What sin have I committed that I must be punished so cruelly for it? Must I bury all my children ere this war ends?!”
Flash and I both moved to comfort her, but he was nearer. “He died well, Mother. He was very brave, and brought honor to our clan.”
Mother shoved him back with an angry snarl. “I do not care if he died well, he died! How couldst thou abandon him? He was thy brother, thy twin! How is it that he is dead, yet thou dost return to me alive and unharmed? Didst thou flee the battle like some craven?”
Flash squirmed, rooted to the spot by Mother’s explosive fury. “I ... there was no way I could hope to defeat her after I saw what she did to Thunder! Attempting to fight her would only have ended with me slain as well, and naught to show for it! Is it not better that one of us survives?”
“Would that the better of my sons had.” Mother struck him full across the cheek. “Instead he died so that thou might live.”
I might have offered some defense of my brother’s actions, save that something else demanded mine attention. The blow she had struck Flash had knocked Mother’s leg armor slightly askew, and I noted a slow, steady trickle of blood pouring through the gap. There was already a small but rapidly growing puddle beneath her hoof, and the flow seemed to be continuing on quite steadily. “Mother, you are wounded.”
Mother glanced down, and her eyes went wide. “Is all of that mine?”
“It is,” I confirmed. “Flash, find Dawn. Mother, pray hold still so that I might remove the armor and examine thy leg.” I did not have Dawn’s skills, but any warrior should know the fundamentals of battlefield medicine. Chirurgeons are not always close at hoof.
The instant I loosened Mother’s armor, I knew our need for Dawn’s skills was urgent. Blood exited ‘tween the newly opened gaps in her greaves like a torrent, and a layer of blood coated her leg from hoof to knee. That was far too much.
I desperately searched for the wound that had cost her so much, but found none. ‘Twas only on the third search that I realized mine error: I had assumed it must be some large, terrible wound to have made her bleed so awfully, but in truth, the wound was a small one, barely perceptible. Howe’er, it had severed one of the largest veins in her leg, and the wound had been unseen and untreated for far too long. Likely Mother had dismissed it as a minor wound that did not e’en cause any notable pain.
‘Twas as if seeing all the blood she’d lost suddenly made Mother realize the depth of her injury, for her legs collapsed underneath her a moment later. I hastily improvised a bandage out of some bedding and pressed it to her wound, hoping to at least slow the blood loss—though with how much of her lifesblood was already soaking the grass beneath her, I could not help wondering if mine efforts had been too little, too late.
“Dawn, where art thou?” I hissed underneath my breath.
“I am afraid thy sister is otherwise occupied.” I spun about and found myself facing Swift Blade, accompanied by a few of his unicorn cohorts—including the warlock archmagus Hidden Facts. Flash also stood at his side, to my displeasure. “She attends Ephor Steel, as he was badly wounded in an earlier battle and still hovers on the boundary of life and death.” His shoulders slumped in a o’erdramatic sigh. “Perhaps that is for the best; her recent record with family members does not inspire confidence in her abilities.”
“You dare?! ” If not for the need to keep pressure upon Mother’s wound, I might have struck him then and there.
“Mind thy tongue, boy!” Swift snapped. I was tempted to strike him e’en more for the naked condescencion of his address. “With Bright and Steel both too wounded to lead, I am the Acting Commander of Pegasopolis.”
Flash’s eyes nervously flicked the warlocks accompanying the Ephor. “They promised that they could save Mother’s life. They have magic. Powerful magic.”
“Forbidden magic,” I snarled in reply.
“Forbidden by whom?” Hidden cut in smoothly. “By the very magi we name as enemies? The same mare who so recently murdered your brother? If Archmagus Sunbeam Sparkle were to declare the lance a forbidden weapon, would we abide by that restriction as well? I can save your mother’s life. What does it matter how it is done?”
“Aye, well said,” Swift rumbled in approval.
I immediately brought my weapons to bear against the lot of them as best I could while still tending my mother. It made a poor combat position, and likely stole some of the strength from my declaration. “I will not surrender my mother into the custody of warlocks!”
Swift Blade drew himself up to his full, though unimpressive, height. “That is not thy decision to make. As Acting Commander of Pegasopolis, I have final authority on the care of wounded soldiers, and I am giving mine orders now. Thou wilt grant the warlocks custody of Bright Charger and cease interfering in her medical care. Are mine orders clear?”
I might have made a fight of it, but I was outnumbered a dozen to one and restricted by the need to keep pressure on Mother’s wound. I could not hope to stop them, and trying would only result in my death. Likely an especially gruesome one, given the spellcasters I faced. There was only one viable choice: live to fight another day. “I understand, sir.” I stepped away from Mother with the utmost reluctance, allowing the warlocks to take charge of her. Flash took my place at her side.
“Very wise.” A smug smile crossed the Acting Commander’s lips. “Now then, I think we need to launch another assault on the enemy defenses. I would ask thee to stand for thy clan in leading that charge. With luck, thou might be able to avenge thy brother by facing his killer in single combat. Consider all of that an order.”
“No.” I drew myself up to my full height, which placed me a good few inches o’er Swift. “Since we are all using acting ranks, then let me say that as Acting Paterfamilias of the Charger clan, I am withdrawing my clan’s support from this campaign, effective immediately. Good luck taking the city without the largest of Pegasopolis’s clans. And others will follow my lead, I assure you.”
Swifts eyes bulged in shock. “That is treason! You cannot—”
I stilled the flapping of his jaws with a sharp blow. “You would name me a traitor, sir? I am badly insulted and demand that you give me the satisfaction of juris ungula, or withdraw your remarks and let my clan go on its way in peace. Have I made myself clear?” Given Swift’s abysmal reputation as a warrior, I felt perfectly safe issuing the challenge.
Swift scowled balefully, then turned to his pet warlock. “Very well then. Hidden Facts, dispose of this fool for me.”
A slight smirk crossed the cadaverous mage’s face. “Alas, this a pegasus affair. I’m afraid I cannot stand as your champion. It would be ... improper.” He nodded to his own dark mages, and they quickly transported Mother elsewhere. Flash spared me an almost apologetic look, then followed his new masters.
I breathed out in relief. It had not e’en occurred to me that Swift might show such utter disregard for tradition that he would attempt to name a unicorn warlock as his champion instead of standing against me himself. Though such might have violated tradition and invalidated the duel in the eyes of society, such would be small comfort if I perished.
Deprived of his prospective champion, Swift had little choice in the matter. He may have been proud proud, but not so proud he would die before his knees bent. “Very well then, Dusk Charger. I withdraw my remarks, which were spoken in the heat of the moment.” Despite those words, Swift’s eyes never left mine, and I could plainly see the hate burning within them. “I will not forget this.”
“Good.” I rose to my hooves and turned to face the exit. “If you do forget it, sir, ‘twould be my great pleasure to remind you once more.” ‘Twas most satisfying to see his jaw clench in impotent fury. “Now if there is nothing else, please leave my tent. There is a rather unpleasant odor of cowardice in the air.”
Swift had no choice but to let the barb pass. Once the supposed Acting Commander slunk out of my tent, I made arrangements to secure Gale, and then began planning Mother’s rescue.
Half an hour later, a small group of ponies met in my tent in utmost secrecy.
The first to join me was Sierra Doo. When I had risen to command of the hetairoi , I had named her as my second. While she was not a part of her clan’s ruling family, she was a respected warrior with a reasonable measure of influence, and a close personal friend as well.
After her came Bronze Striker, Ephor Steel’s younger brother. Mine uncle, I suppose. Like myself, he was effectively acting pater of the clan. His coat suited his name, with a close-cropped mane and tail which was rapidly fading from black to grey. A competent commander, but one who had e’er lived in his brother’s shadow. Mother once told me that not a thought entered his head that Steel had not placed there.
Then there was Solus Kicker, the closest thing the remnants of the loyal Kickers had to a proper pater. A veteran warlock hunter who had lost an ear, an eye, and his good looks in battle against a necromancer. ‘Twas those scars which kept him from taking command of the clan, despite being the best qualified for it. Rumor had it that he had refused to join Shadow not for any love of Pegasopolis, but because he hated unicorns. I could not say I approved of such sentiments, but it made him well-suited to our current purposes.
Last of all, I had mater Ardent Stalker. I dared not move against Swift without some support from the minor clans, or I risked splitting our army in twain. She was small, lean, and unimposing like most of her clansmares, but I did not for a second believe that made her any less dangerous. As importantly, I knew she had no great love for Swift Blade.
The Stalker Clan constituted some of our best skirmishers, and all of their number had served in the Long Patrol at some point. Their influence was perhaps less than they deserved, as many warriors felt skirmishing to be somewhat dishonorable compared to standing and fighting. I suspect this sentiment comes from the fact that a good skirmisher can make short work of a fool who insists upon standing out in the open and demanding his enemies face him directly.
Five ponies, one from each of the major clans and one from a minor clan. The number and arrangement of this meeting was not a product of happenstance. ‘Twas strange to think of myself as the acting paterfamilias for my clan in this matter, but I had no time to dwell on that when my mother needed mine aid.
I stepped forward, positioning myself so that I could see all of them at once. ‘Twas fortunate that my new post as commander of the hetairoi had allowed me more spacious quarters than I had once enjoyed. “Let us begin. There is much to discuss and little time to see it done. With Ephors Steel Striker and Bright Charger both wounded in action, Ephor Swift Blade currently holds sole command of Pegasopolis’s armed forces. I consider this an unacceptable state of affairs and intend to take action to correct it.”
“Unacceptable because you do not want to take orders from a pony who comes from a minor clan?” the Stalker mater asked suspiciously, though her tone was not quite as cutting as it could have been. I suspect she asked the question in part to allow me to answer it and put an end to any such suspicions ere they arose.
“Neigh, materfamilias . I care little for what name a pony bears; I do not wish to take orders from him because he is unfit for command.”
My response seemed adequate, and Ardent Stalker relaxed in her seat. “I have ne’er cared for him. Were it not for his low cunning during the selection process, I might well have his seat in the Ephorate.” She waved for me to continue.
“Swift Blade has ne’er distinguished himself in battle. He has not commanded a force larger than a few squads, and ne’er in any true conflict. I do not deny his skill with managing our supply lines, but that is a job for a clerk rather than a commander. He is craven, and we all know it. ‘Tis no secret that a sharp blow and an issued challenge will always suffice to make him bite his tongue. Most critically, he is consorting with practitioners of the forbidden arts.”
Solus Kicker growled several words which should not have been said amongst polite company. “We should not have taken those accursed unicorns prisoner to begin with. I told Cyclone that they deserved the noose. No good could come of letting them live.”
With the benefit of hindsight, I quite agreed with him. “Ephor Steel and my mother were considering how best to punish him for his flagrant disobedience when they were wounded in battle.” I struggled to keep my choler in check with my next statement. “One of his first acts upon learning that my mother was wounded was to entrust her care to his pet warlocks. Had I not been alone against him and a dozen of his mages, I would have cut him down then and there. I know not what his warlocks intend for my mother, but I doubt ‘tis anything good. She stands ‘tween him and control of our armies.”
“You think he would go so far as to murder her?” Sierra asked.
“Neigh, but he need not take any action against her. She was already badly wounded.” I thought back to my mother’s lifeblood spilling onto the ground and trembled. “It may well be enough to merely have his warlocks be less than diligent in their efforts to aid her.”
Bronze sighed and ran a hoof down his face. “‘Tis unclear if Steel will e’en live through the night. And if he does... he is not as young and strong as he once was. He might well have to retire, and e’en if he does not, ‘twill be many weeks ere he can return to the battlefield. If Bright falls, Swift will take command unopposed.”
“No.” I looked to each of them in turn, weighing my words carefully. “Not unopposed.”
Solus scratched at his scars with a hoof that had been cracked many years ago and healed badly. “So that is the way of it? Well and good. I can have fifty blades ready in ten minutes. Not the best of our clan, but they will obey mine orders without doubt or hesitation. I think the loyalty of our blades will be far more important than their skill for this.”
“I can bring a hundred from the Doos,” Sierra offered. “I think it likely the hetairoi would stand with us as well. ‘Twould add to the legitimacy of the proceedings.”
“Aye, but there are a few Blades in the hetairoi ,” I cautioned. “I would not risk one of them finding some way to forewarn him of our coming. If we arrive and take him unawares, this should go smoothly. If he has time to muster his clan, we risk a civil war among our ranks and the utter ruin of our cause.”
“How quietly do we want him removed?” Ardent asked with a cold smile. “I could arrange for something very discreet. A poison that mimics the symptoms of a common camp illness. None might e’er know he was murdered.” Her smile widened. “And I do like the image of Swift spending his last days perched o’er a chamberpot.”
While I could not deny the idea had a certain appeal to it, I shook my head. “He has my mother. We cannot afford to wait a few days for him to expire.”
“So we take the warlocks now,” Solus Kicker suggested with a smile that pulled his scars tight across his face. “Kill them all and string their corpses up. Better than they deserve, but we are in some haste.”
“I would prefer we avoid bloodshed if at all possible,” Bronze opined with a frown. “We are not so flush with soldiers that we can afford to waste lives fighting our own. I would suggest we march openly on where’er Swift and his warlocks are meeting, and demand his resignation and the warlocks’ imprisonment whilst holding five hundred blades at our back. No threats need be spoken—the mere presence of such numbers will make the consequences of refusal plain.”
“Just march our forces right through the middle of camp?” Ardent demanded incredulously. “Surely we can come up with a slightly subtler plan than that.”
“Subtlety takes time, and that is a resource we have little of,” Sierra parried.
“Why spare the warlocks?” Solus Kicker demanded. “So they can be released by some other damned fool or escape? Kill them and be done with it.”
I did not want to risk the meeting devolving to petty bickering, so I did what Mother would have to restore order: I took a deep breath and spoke as loudly as I could without shouting. “If I may make a suggestion...” The others all paused, turning to face me. “I think Bronze is correct that it would be best to avoid bloodshed if at all possible. Any deaths could spark a blood feud we can ill afford in the middle of a war.” I noted the scowl forming on Solus’s face and moved to dispel it. “We can always give the warlocks a swift trial and justified execution after they agree to be taken back into custody. ‘Tis likely they would only attempt to manipulate their way to freedom once more, anyway.”
“So long as they die,” he growled.
Bronze naturally had no objections to his own proposal, and Sierra seemed quite content with it as well. That only left Ardent objecting. “I grasp the need to recover your mother from the warlocks as swiftly as possible; howe’er, must the rescue and our action against Swift occur in the same stroke?”
“I think that would be best.” I turned to face her directly. “Once we move against his warlocks, Swift will know us for his enemies. If we give him time to prepare himself, he will make our lives far more difficult.”
Ardent Stalker sighed and waved her concession. “Aye, he would. Likely by doing something so terrible and ill-considered that we had not e’en entertained the possibility. So be it—we will move against him swiftly and directly.”
Ten minutes later, we marched on Swift’s tent. We had assembled o’er five hundred loyal soldiers ‘tween us, though I suspect I might have been able to rouse the entire clan given more time. Howe’er, I worried that I might already have waited too long to rescue Mother from the warlocks. Better to take action now with sufficient force than to arrive too late with o’erwhelming force.
Darkness had fallen while we readied ourselves. The wind had shifted, and now our camp was experiencing some of the torrential rains we regularly inflicted upon Canterlot. So much the better, as it served to drive most soldiers to their tents. Swift would receive less warning of our approach, and most of his clan would be huddled where’er they could shelter from the rain rather than closely attending their pater.
As we neared the warlocks’ tent, there was an unnatural chill in the air, especially for a late summer’s night. “Sorcery,” Solus Kicker hissed. He pointed to a pair of empty cages. “No, not just that. Blood magic.”
Sierra approached the cages, making a quick inspection. “These held the Archmagi we were to trade for Rightly.”
“Not anymore,” the grizzled mage-hunter snarled. “They have likely been sacrificed to fuel whate’er dark magic the warlocks are weaving. We must stop them, and quickly.”
I quite agreed with him, and we approached the tent’s entrance. A small contingent of Blades held the entrance, some warily looking towards the large force of approaching soldiers, while others seemed more frightened of what they guarded. I recognized both Swift’s children among their number and turned to the elder, his son. “Stand aside.”
The son—Quick, if I recalled his name correctly—shot an uncertain glance o’er his shoulder, then firmed his stance. “Commander Swift Blade has ordered that none be admitted into the tent until the ceremony is complete. Who are you to countermand his orders?”
My companions stepped up to my side, adding another subtle layer of intimidation to the scene. “I am a very angry and very well-armed warrior who is in command of five hundred other very angry, very well-armed warriors. I ask you once again, stand aside.”
Quick’s sister, a rather comely young mare named Skilled, hissed something into his ear, but he waved her off. “I have mine orders. You cannot enter.”
Solus Kicker strode forward, the light glinting menacingly off of his wing blades. “Tell me something, child. If we want to get in, how exactly do you plan on stopping us?”
‘Twas plain to see that Quick was all but petrified. Once more Skilled whispered to him; I could only hear a few words, but those that I did pleased me. “Not worth dying for.”
Unfortunately, Quick did not heed his sister, waving her off. ‘Twould seem that while he knew he could not hope to stand against us, he was possessed of too much loyalty to his father to abandon his post e’en in the face of certain death.
Perhaps inspired by mine earlier encounter with Swift, I decided on bold action for my course. My punch caught him in the cheek, carefully aimed so as to do no significant harm to him. The young stallion was caught quite by surprise, losing his balance and falling face-first into the mud. His sister and some of the other Blade ponies glowered at me, but none seemed o’ereager to do more than that when my forces had theirs outnumbered by more than twenty to one. For all their anger, they stood aside.
I opened the tent, finding the air thick with incense and other smells I could not identify save for one: the thick, cloying stench of blood. I could see the bodies of the murdered Archmagi, and a large bloodstain in the center of a large ritual circle where my mother must have been placed. Yet her body was no longer there.
I espied Swift Blade and all but charged him. Unlike with his son, I took no care to avoid harming him with my punch, and I could feel his cheekbone cave in under the blow. The supposed commander of Pegasopolis fell to the ground, and I unsheathed a knife and pressed it to his throat. “Where is my mother?! ”
Ere he could answer me, I heard her voice behind me. “Release him, Dusk.”
I instantly did so and spun about, searching for her. She stood at Hidden Facts’ side, though now she dwarfed the warlock. Mother had always been large for a mare, though her build was more lean and muscular. Now, she was a giant, almost comparable in scale to Queen Celestia. And from her forehead...
“Mother?”
“Yes,” the alicorn Bright Charger answered me with, a cold smile upon her face. “But so much more as well. I am Equestria’s salvation from the evils of the Sun Tyrant. I am freedom. I am a goddess’s will made flesh. I am Luna reborn, her avatar on this world!”
I awoke to pain the likes of which I had not felt in all my years. While the sensation began in my chest, it radiated outwards to encompass the whole of my body, from the tips of mine ears to the bottoms of my hooves. My body felt heavy, dull and restricted, as if ‘twere held down by an impossibly massive weight.
‘Twas some time before my mind could turn to any matter beyond the pain. Mine eyes felt thick and heavy, but I slowly forced them open. When at last I became aware of my surroundings, I discovered that I was abed.The rich decorations within the room made it plain that I was in the royal palace, not my quarters within my clan’s newly claimed compound. Before I could wonder at my location, I heard a vaguely familiar voice at my side. “Shadow Kicker, are you awake?”
Before me stood a peach-coated mare whose mane was streaked with blue and gold. ‘Twas several seconds ere my muddled mind could match a name to her face: Morning Star, wife to mine old friend Copper Spark. My lips cracked open, and I croaked out an answer to her question. “I am awake.”
I shifted in bed, attempting to rise as my leaden limbs sluggishly responded to my mental commands. The magus quickly put a hoof on my shoulder, gently restraining me. “Do not move so hastily, Shadow. You have been through much and more, and lingered many days on the cusp of death.” She used her magic to retrieve a cup and held it to my lips. “Please, let me help you drink this. ‘Twill help your recovery from your wounds and lessen the pain.”
The concoction within the glass did not taste like anything that had any business in my stomach, but such is often the way of things with medicines. I had endured far worse than unpleasant potions in the past. “How long?” I would have made my question clearer, but my throat felt sore from lack of use, which in and of itself told me much.
“Near a month, I am afraid,” Morning answered grimly. “Your wounds would have killed a lesser mare, and as it was, we have had to use our best magics and other resources to bring you back from the brink of death. Her Majesty expended much of her strength preserving the spark of life that remained within you while others saw to repairing your flesh.”
“My wounds?” After a moment of confusion, the memories came flooding back to me. “Bright ... Bright Charger struck me down 'neath a truce flag. She claimed that I had murdered her daughter, though I did no such thing.”
“She struck you down treacherously, in violation of all the rules and customs of warfare,” Morning confirmed. “‘Twas quite the battle to retrieve your body, and the Queen herself took charge of your treatment once ‘twas done. The chirurgeons believed that you were already slain, or else wounded beyond all salvation.”
“I suppose I should be grateful she did not agree with their assessment.” More memories of my last moments poured into my mind, and I recalled that I had not gone the parley alone. A quick scan of the room showed that my daughter was nowhere to be seen, and dread settled into the pit of my stomach. “What news of Gale?”
Morning’s countenance fell, confirming my worst fears. “I am sorry to be the bearer of such fell news, but she is a prisoner within the rebel camp.” Her face darkened further, and an angry growl entered her voice. “She was captured when they struck you down and broke the truce, and so twice damned themselves.”
I once more tried to rise from my bed, a half-formed plan to storm the rebel camp and free my daughter firmly in my mind. Morning’s hooves once more gently restrained me, and the weakness of mine own flesh made her task a simple one. “Have a care, Shadow. Much has been sacrificed to preserve your life, and ‘tis poor repayment of those efforts to worsen your wounds the moment you wake. You cannot help her in your current state. Harbor your strength for now until your body is ready to do what must be done.”
I scowled, but much as I misliked her words, I could not dispute the truth of them. A mare who could barely muster the strength to rise from bed would hardly be able to fight a major battle. “So be it then. Gale has already been a prisoner for a month. She can endure a few more days while I regain my full strength.” I frowned, and added for mine own peace of mind, “Though Bright betrayed the truce flag, I cannot think that she has fallen so far as to mistreat my child.”
Morning had taken the potion glass from my bedside, and been in the midst of cleaning it. At my final words, the glass shattered within her grasp. She stared down at the broken shards of glass for some time, a panoply of emotions flying across her face. I could make no sense of it, beyond the fact that ‘twas plain she was in distress. “Morning? What ails you?”
She closed her eyes, taking several deep breaths as she calmed herself. Then, with slow and careful deliberation, she gathered up all the shards of the broken cup. “I wish I could say 'twas so, Shadow. Howe’er, I fear that the honorable ponies you knew are no more. The rebels ... twice they damned their cause with their betrayal of you, but thrice are they damned. And their third crime is the foulest of all.”
There are few crimes to match the foulness of betraying a truce, and none of them were the sort of thing I cared to think of my former comrades doing. Howe’er, this unnatural war had forced us all to do many things that had once been unthinkable. “What have they done?”
Rather than immediately answer, Morning put her magic to work slowly and carefully reassembling the cup she had shattered. “They ... they have begun to consort with warlocks. We have confirmed it with our prisoners and everypony that has left their cause to join ours.” She scowled, hate briefly distorting her features. “They used forbidden arts, and sacrificed all the archmagi they had captured in a foul blood ritual. Including—including...”
While she could not bring herself to speak the words, I could already guess the awful truth. Her husband had been an archmagus, and a prisoner within the rebel camp. Howe’er, I could not bring myself to truly believe such a horrible thing. “They ... Copper is dead? How?! Why?! It is utter madness! I cannot believe the Ephors would endorse such a foul act!”
“They have!” Morning shrieked, her fragile composure shattering. “They murdered my husband and the father of my children! They used his blood to birth an abomination! I curse them all to suffer the foulest, most painful deaths fate can conjure for them, but only after an eternity of torment!”
She shuddered, taking several sharp, painful breaths as she struggled to regain some semblance of balance. Once she had restrained her choler, she spoke flatly, as if a dull recitation would distance the painful facts from herself. “Swift Blade brought the warlocks into the rebel camp and is using them to further their cause. They used my husband and the others as a blood sacrifice to perform a fell ritual somehow connected to Nightmare Moon.” Her frown turned troubled and pensive. “We do not know for certain what they have done, but Bright Charger is now named as the Avatar of Luna by the rebels. ‘Tis unclear whether Nightmare Moon’s will and power commands her flesh, or if she is merely as she once was but risen to an alicorn while being blessed and empowered by Luna. Regardless, the rebels now march fully ‘neath the Nightmare’s flag.”
I could scarce believe mine own ears. “Nightmare Moon commands the rebel forces?”
Morning took another breath, her voice nearly returned to calm and control, though there was still a hard edge to her words. “Yes, or at least something close enough. Whatever exactly faces us, it is dangerous, very dangerous. And it has changed the very nature of this war. While none have said so, I cannot imagine that the Nightmare would care for the rebels’ stated war aim of mortal rule in Equestria. She will want her freedom, and her sister’s throne for herself.”
I frowned, pondering the full implications of that change. Where before this had been a war for principles and the future of Equestria, now we faced the threat of a mad goddess claiming absolute dominion o’er all Equestria. Matters had grown serious indeed. “I see. How fares the city? What of the Commander and Sunbeam?”
“The city holds for now,” Morning assured me as she retrieved a fresh cup. “Since the initial rebel attack that struck you down, the few direct assaults they risked on our positions proved to be bloody failures. For now they have largely contented themselves with attempting to bypass or undermine our defenses by digging. We are holding, but we worry for how long. Fresh siege engines are nearly complete, and ‘tis likely they will find a weakness in our walls at some point. Not to mention winter draws e’er nearer.”
A hint of cold, satisfied smile crossed the widow’s lips as she continued, “Archmagus Sparkle has been quite beside herself e’er since your betrayal and the rebels’ use of warlocks. Whenever the enemy has probed our defenses, she has either used overwhelming power with a concentrated team of magi to break the attack or, as is more her pleasure, sought out and slain every rebel leader who dared to show themselves. ‘Tis telling that neither Swift Blade nor his puppet Ephors have dared to lead a force in the field.”
She hesitated a long moment ere she answered the last of mine inquiries. “Her Majesty is well—to a point.” She was silent for some time, her eyes furtively darting about the room. “There is little I can say with certainty, but much I suspect. For all Archmagus Sparkle’s claims that she and the Queen stand together, she is usually in a foul mood ‘pon leaving any conference with Her Majesty. And while they try to hide it, Celestia seems ... unwell.” She frowned, shaking her head. “I suspect that ‘tween maintaining the shield, preserving your life, and other pressures, her strength is sorely tasked. And of course, there is the question of the Avatar. While the Queen is silent on the matter, I think she intends to face the Avatar when she shows herself on the battlefield or she attempts to take control of the night sky.”
As I thought o’er all that I had heard, I shifted in bed, causing the covers to fall from my body. Though I had not noticed it previously, I was surprised to note that I was wearing a breastplate. That seemed most unusual: there are numerous reasons why ‘tis unwise to sleep whilst wearing one’s armor, especially when abed for an extended period of time as I had been. Further, Bright had felled me with a lance to the chest. It seemed curious to place armor o’er the wound, making it that much harder to treat.
I studied this unusual breastplate more closely. ‘Twas not the armor I had worn for most of mine adult life—though that was perhaps no surprise, given that Bright’s lance had punched a hole clean through mine old breastplate. Howe’er, this new plate was of a material and craftsmanship the likes of which I had ne’er seen before. The metal looked little different from mine old armor, yet felt lighter whilst offering e’en greater strength; ‘twas difficult for me to put to words, save for weighing steel against copper. ‘Twas a poor comparison, especially as a second glance hinted at the more arcane qualities of my garb. Subtle, finely crafted runes covered the armor’s trim—some of which I vaguely recognized from the work of Sunbeam, Morning Star, and Copper Spark, and some which were entirely alien to me. So many adorned mine armor that I would have worried for its integrity had I not sensed some superiority in the metallurgy.
Morning followed my gaze, and her smile grew sharp enough to equal the edge of my wing blade. “Ah, I see that you have noticed the new armor.”
If naught else, it did explain why my chest had felt so heavy when first I woke. “May I ask why I am wearing armor in bed?”
Morning nodded, one hoof rising to contemplatively touch the plate. “I know it might sound queer, but ‘tis a part of your recovery. Producing this suit has occupied much of Queen Celestia’s attention when not tending her other duties. Myself and Archmagus Sparkle both assisted her in various stages of the endeavour. I must say, Her Majesty has quite outdone herself with this. I have seen magics the likes of which I had ne’er e’en conceived of previously.” She grinned, cold and furious. “I look forward to seeing what deeds ‘twill accomplish once you unleash its power upon our enemies.”
Her words, and the simple facts regarding who had crafted this fine set of armor, made it plain that what I wore now was no mere set of strengthened plate. “I see. And might I ask what precisely this new armor does?”
Morning shrugged helplessly. “To be quite honest, there are many aspects of its enchantment that are quite beyond me. Archmagus Sparkle’s work is on par with mine own, and Celestia’s is an order of magnitude beyond what both of us can manage. I can only tell you a few things I have been told directly or observed for myself. Celestia and Sunbeam say that it has aided you in your healing, and it will absorb any spells directed against you, should you desire it.” She scowled balefully. “Something that will be very useful now that the traitor Hidden Facts and his followers openly march alongside the rebel forces. Though in truth, I suspect that the Queen has a far greater target in mind for you.”
I blinked in shock as I followed her line of reasoning. “You think she intends for me to face the Avatar of Nightmare Moon?”
“That abomination will have to be slain ere this war can end,” Morning confirmed. “I cannot imagine Celestia invested such time and energy into creating a new suit of armor if she intended you to face merely mortal threats. Neigh, she has a grander target in mind, and now has given you the tools needed to see the task done.”
“I shall have to explore its capabilities once I am no longer abed with mine injuries.” I stretched my limbs, trying to get a sense for what strength there was in them. More than I would have expected, given the length of my convalescence. Mayhaps some aspect of the armor’s enchantments had preserved them from the usual atrophy. “How long shall I remain an invalid? I would like to return to the field as soon as possible.”
“Your wish should be granted ere long, I hope.” She filled a glass with a blue liquid that had a sharp, pungent smell. When she brought it to my lips I discovered that it was quite sweet, but with a disconcerting aftertaste that I could not properly identify. “That is no small part of why I have been tending your needs e’er since Celestia finished her work upon you. That, and...” Her eyes moistened and briefly fell to the side. “It is what Copper would have wished. That you live and recover from your wounds.” She hesitated a moment, longer, and her voice was thick with grief. “He cared for you. I have wondered if, in a world where politics and tribal loyalties were different, he might have wed you instead of me.”
I frowned and quickly brushed those doubts away. “He married you, and you bore his children. What might have been in a different world matters not. In this world, he loved you.”
“I know he did,” she answered with a sad smile. “But I also know that we married one another not for love or fondness, but because ‘twas advantageous for the both of us. My reputation as a mare above politics aided him in his own political maneuvers, and I gained the prestige and resources that come with being wife to an Archmagus. We grew to love one another, yes, but I doubt he would have looked twice at me were it not for those other reasons.”
I reached forward, gripping her shoulder despite the pain and stiffness that yet lingered within my limbs. “We will avenge him. I swear it to you. Swift Blade, Hidden Facts, and all the others who dared to shed his blood will suffer for their crimes.”
Morning met mine eyes, nodding grimly. “I will have justice for him, Shadow. Once we have crushed their armies, I will devote my remaining days to hunting down those two and all the warlocks who fought alongside them. E’en if the rebels tear our queen from her throne and claim all Equestria for their own, I swear that those two shall not enjoy the fruits of their victory. Howe’er the war ends, they will not stand triumphant o’er my husband’s body.”
Much as my heart agreed with her words, a moment later my reason asserted itself. “Have a care, Morning. There must be justice for the slain, aye, but you are also a mother. Do not abandon your children—Copper’s children—in the quest for vengeance. The living must take precedence o’er the dead.” I considered my words carefully for a moment, then added, “I am sure that Bright Charger wished for vengeance for her slain daughter. I expect that was how the Nightmare was able to seduce her into darkness.”
The other mare took closed her eyes and took a single shaky breath, then met my eyes and slowly nodded. She took my hoof in hers, squeezing it gently. “Yes. You are right, Shadow. I must think of my children too. I will not abandon them.” Her expression hardened. “But I will not let them grow up in a world where their father’s murderers roam free, either. I will protect them by whate’er means I can find.”
“Aye, any mother would do the same.” Naturally, that turned my thoughts to Gale. “My daughter will not remain in the rebel camp one moment longer than it takes for me to march up to their gates and smash them down.”
She put a restraining hoof on my shoulder. “As you counseled me, now I shall counsel you. Wisdom, Shadow. As much as I would love to do the same for what was done to my husband, we must be wise and not waste our resources to meet our ends.”
“Aye. Wisdom.” I tossed aside my covers and rolled out of bed, settling onto stiff, uncertain hooves. I stretched my wings, forcing them to flap through sheer strength of will until I felt something of their old strength and dexterity returning. “I will show the rebels my wisdom, and the sharp edge of my blade.” My wings began trembling, clearly unused to such exertions after my prolonged period of indolence. With a chagrined smile, I amended. “Though it may have to wait until I have regained mine old strength.”
While I was still confined to my chambers whilst I rested and recovered, I had no intention of spending my time abed. Far too much of my strength had already ebbed away after spending a month at rest, and I did not intend to lose any more of it now that I had woken. ‘Twould be a long and unpleasant process, but the sooner I began it, the sooner ‘twould be finished.
I was in midst of testing the range of motion in one of my hind legs when somepony rapped upon my door. Given my prior discussion with Morning, I suspected ‘twas likely either Sunbeam or the Commander. Both of them had taken a keen interest in my healing, and would likely wish to speak with me as soon as possible. “You may enter,” I answered, rising to my hooves and attempting to make myself look as presentable as possible. ‘Twould not do to look like a disheveled lout before Celestia.
Sunbeam threw open the door, confidently striding into my quarters. Her eyes passed o’er my flesh in frank evaluation, and if I were to judge by the faint smile on her face ‘twould seem my condition met with her approval. “Ah, so thou art on thy hooves after all. Good. There is much to be done, and precious little of it can be accomplished from within thy bed.”
“Aye, I have no intention of lying at rest while other ponies fight my battles.” I turned mine attention to the mare who had somehow, improbably, become something resembling a friend to me. “'Tis good to see thee once more, Sunbeam.”
Her answering smile for once seemed relatively warm and genuine. “I am glad to see thee as well. In truth, we were not sure if thou wouldst recover from thy wounds. ‘Twas a long, difficult, and uncertain process.” Though she did not say so, I suspected the difficulty of the healing was why I had been kept within the palace rather than returned to my clan’s quarters. Something I was duly grateful for—I would prefer not to look weak and helpless before my clan. (1) “The damage Bright inflicted ‘pon thy flesh should have killed thee. Removing the lance head from thee was a harrowing task alone, and that was but the first of many stages.”
1: I think Sunbeam likely knew enough about internal clan politics to realize that it would be bad for the Kickers’ morale if they saw Shadow before she was fully recovered. Plus, if Shadow wound up dying of her wounds, they could cover up all the messy, unpleasant details that might impede efforts to make a martyr of her. ‘Died heroically on the battlefield’ sounds much nicer than ‘died in a pool of her own blood and filth in bed five days after the battle, once her wound turned septic.’
Young Midnight poked her head ‘round the doorframe, then quietly slipped into the room, shutting the door behind her. She gazed up at me, then asked with earnest curiosity. “Is it true that when a pony nearly dies, they see a bright light and hear the voice of a slain friend or relative telling them to come into said light? That is what it says in my books, but I have not been able to speak with anypony who had direct experience in the matter until now.”
Mayhaps I had become accustomed to the filly’s oddities, because her question did not surprise me in the least. “I recall no such sensation.”
She nodded, and immediately hurled another question at me. “As your lifesblood spilled ‘pon the ground, did the events of your life flash before your eyes?”
“They did not.” I answered dully. “In truth, I think I was too stunned by the wound I had suffered to think ‘pon anything else.”
“And I suppose you also did not see any visions of the afterlife?” she asked, sounding faintly annoyed by my relatively colorless answers.
“Neigh, I saw no such things.”
“I see.” She frowned thoughtfully, turning mine answer o’er in her mind. “How disappointing.”
“I am sorry my brush with death failed to entertain thee,” I answered dryly.
“I will forgive you.” She offered no further elaboration on that point. Howe’er, after several long moments she directly met mine eyes. “Mother thought 'twas a waste of Her Majesty's power to save you with the Avatar on the loose. Howe’er, I am happy that you are not dead, for you have been kind to me. And you being dead would make Gale sad.” Her ears flattened against her skull, and her shoulders slumped. “I miss Gale.”
“Did your mother indeed say such things?” I turned my gaze to Sunbeam, curious to see just what she would have to say for herself after her daughter’s revelations.
Sunbeam glowered down at her daughter, clearly less than happy with her loose lips. “Midnight, that is not a topic to be discussed. Shadow is alive and well, and I am glad to see it. That is what matters now.”
The child frowned stubbornly. “But you told Queen Celestia—”
Whate’er words she might have spoken next were abruptly cut off as Sunbeam cuffed the back of her head. “Silence, child, or thou canst go back to carrying water to the soldiers. I am sure they are all very thirsty.”
Young Midnight said nothing more on the matter, evidently cowed by her mother’s threat. Plainly, she did not care for being a water-bearer. From what I recall of performing similar duties when I was of an age with her, ‘tis tiring and thankless work.
Howe’er, she had said more than enough to pique mine interest. I turned to Sunbeam, a single eyebrow raised. “Ah, so thou wouldst say my life was a waste? I suppose I should be thankful that thou didst not smother me in my sleep, then.”
The archmagus scoffed and rolled her eyes. “I would hardly think to do such a thing. Matters were quite chaotic at the time thou wert wounded, especially once we learned of the Avatar. At the time, I thought it unwise for the Queen to expend all her strength preserving thy life when the Avatar might strike at any moment. ‘Tis not as if thy life would be spared should Canterlot fall. Howe’er, the Avatar did not attack, so with the benefit of hindsight her choice was correct in this particular instance.”
“I see.” Much as I did not care for such a frank declaration that she had not judged mine own life worth saving, there was at least some logic to her position. Better for one more to die than for the entire city to fall. “Given that I am still alive, I suppose we can put the matter in the past.”
“Well and good then,” Sunbeam agreed with a satisfied nod. “There is little point in bearing a grudge o’er actions I did not perform, and now see the error of.” She casually trotted o’er to my bed and fluffed my pillow. “I imagine Morning Star has told thee much of what has transpired while you were asleep?”
“She has,” I confirmed. “But there were many things she did not know.”
Sunbeam murmured something to herself and nodded. “Of course not. She has been diligent in her duties, but she is nothing more than a senior magus, and one I thought it best to keep busy rather than allow to fall into her grief. I am sure thou wilt call me heartless for it, but we do not have the luxury of allowing her time to mourn her husband's murder. Let her bury her grief ‘neath hatred and a thirst for vengeance, if ‘twill keep her focused ‘pon the war.”
“For once, we are in accord,” I growled, a dark scowl tightening my features. “I will shed my tears for Copper Spark once the last of his murderers lies dead ‘neath my hooves.”
Sunbeam answered with a cold, almost cruel smile. “Thou always wert a practical mare at heart. And make no mistake, this is a war to the death now. A month ago I would have been willing to make peace with the rebels if we could get favorable terms, but I will not entreat with warlocks. I will not suffer it, and no good would come of it in any event.”
I nodded grimly. “'Twould be no true peace, merely a truce while we both gathered our strength for the next war.”
“Just so,” the Archmagus agreed. “And such a truce would allow the rebels and warlocks to consolidate their position and establish a degree of legitimacy to their rule. No, this war can only end when I have mounted the heads of Hidden Facts and his minions on spikes o’er the gates of Canterlot. Swift Blade too, for that matter. If our spies are correct, ‘twas he who brought them into the rebel fold.”
“I think that a fine plan.” I hesitated a moment, my thoughts lingering on the dangers of seeking vengeance ‘gainst our enemies. With the memory of Bright’s fall from grace so fresh in my mind, the idea of righteous revenge against the wicked held little appeal to me.
Quite unaware of my private worries, Midnight demanded her mother’s attention. “Mother, can I keep the skulls when you are done with them? I wish to add them to my collection.”
“We will see, daughter,” the archmagus answered distractedly. “‘Twill depend upon how events transpire o’er the coming months. We must tend to the needs of Equestria first ere we can consider who will get what glories and trophies.”
I slowly shook my head, chuckling in bemusement as I realized how accustomed I had become to the strange family of Sunbeam and Midnight Sparkle. Truly, one can become accustomed to almost anything given sufficient exposure.
Sunbeam grinned and ruffled Midnight’s mane, much to the child’s displeasure. “My daughter seems to think war is a time for adding skulls to her collection. Really, I do not understand where she gets such morbid interests. Certainly not from me.”
“Certainly thou dost not deal death and mayhem at every turn,” I countered dryly.
The archmagus’ grin grew all the wider. “Not every turn. Sometimes I convince my foes to submit ere they perish. I prefer that in many cases. A corpse is only useful once, whilst a beaten and humbled foe is a reminder of my strength so long as they live. Though of course, due care must be taken to ensure the enemy is truly beaten.”
I turned a measuring gaze upon the mare. “Though from what Morning told me, thou hast not taken many prisoners in recent days.”
Sunbeam shrugged, dismissing any implied condemnation of her actions. “In all fairness, I do not think the rebels would stop their attacks 'pon our walls if I asked nicely. Letting my flames do the speaking for me has proven far more effective.”
“Aye.” I frowned as another idea came to mind. “Though a hostage to trade for my daughter would not have gone amiss.”
“Mmm, mayhaps,” she allowed. “But I have been short on opportunities to collect those as of yet—or at least ones whose value is close to equaling Gale’s. It seems that after I slew one of Bright’s sons, the Ephors have taken to keeping their children far away from me. The only valuable hostage we have to trade is Rightly Doo, and I fear he is worth e’en more than thy daughter.” She paused, and her countenance darkened. “And you above all should know how well our attempts to treat with the rebels have gone in the past. In truth, I might be tempted to make the trade e’en though ‘tis inequitable—his return now might well cause discord within the rebel camp. Howe’er, I have no reason to believe the rebels would truly return thy daughter, and I now suspect ‘twas the warlocks who spoiled the first exchange. I would not put it past them to murder Rightly and blame us for the deed if we released him.”
I sighed, reluctantly conceding to her logic. “Aye, 'tis so. I do not trust the rebels to deal in good faith, so negotiation would accomplish naught.”
“I would hope thou didst learn thy lesson from thy last attempt at diplomacy,” Sunbeam answered lightly. “Her Majesty and I have put far too much time and effort into thee to let the rebels murder thee once more.”
After a moment’s consideration, I made a rather painful concession. “With the benefit of hindsight, I should have taken thine advice on caution in the negotiations. Aye, the ponies I once named as my comrades were valiant and honorable, but this war seems determined to make beasts of us all.”
Sunbeam answered me with a self-satisfied smile. “Aye, thou shouldst have taken mine advice in that matter, and many others as well. But I will accept thine acknowledgement that I was right, and allow us to move onto more productive matters than events long past. I am most magnanimous in my victory.”
I scoffed at her brazen display. “Aye, aye, thine ego is inflated enough as it is.”
She stuck her nose primly into the air. “I like to think I have earned the right to a bit of pride by helping raise thee from the dead. Thou couldst be more grateful.”
I waved her words away. “I was not dead, merely wounded.”
“Thou wert mostly dead,” she maintained stubbornly. “I know, I was there.”
“Mostly slain is not slain,” I countered.
“And what is this?” Sunbeam asked, a teasing smile gracing her lips. “Is thy pride so wounded from nearly being murdered under a flag of truce? 'Twas hardly a fair contest. Any fool can kill a great warrior through base treachery.”
“My pride is intact,” I assured her with a cold smile. “When next I meet the creature that Bright Charger has become, I will show her that I am not so easily slain in a fair contest. Not to avenge my wounded pride, but because she is a grave threat to the safety of Equestria.”
“Good,” the archmagus declared, a troubled frown creasing her face. “That abomination will need to be destroyed before it can cause any more chaos than it already has. Though it has not yet taken the field against us, I fear that 'tis merely the calm before the storm. When she strikes, ‘twill be with o’erwhelming force.”
I was most surprised by the darkness of her countenance. I had seen Sunbeam in many moods, but ne’er before had she seemed so ... worried for her future prospects. “Are matters that grim?”
My fears were soon confirmed, for at my question Sunbeam’s shoulders slumped, her head dipping low. She looked worn and tired, her eyes heavy with fatigue. I found myself reminded of the expression I had seen many a time on the Commander’s face. I noted then that her mane looked to have not seen a brush in some days, and a large patch of hair had been burned away without yet being replaced. ‘Twould seem that carrying on the war in mine absence had taken a heavy toll on the mare. I could only hope my return would lessen her burden.
She sighed and nodded. “In some ways the war goes well; in others, we have great reasons to worry. We are losing many soldiers during rebel attacks on our walls and during our own sallies to foil attempts to sap our positions and destroy their siege engines. We are inflicting our share of casualties ‘pon the enemy in turn, but I fear they can afford the losses better than we can.” Her scowl deepened. “Especially with their new tactics. The Avatar uses the earth ponies far more readily than the Ephorate did. To all appearances, they are treated as expendable fodder, tying our forces down whilst the pegasi probe for weaknesses and strike hard at them. I am sure thou wouldst say that there is little honor in it, but it has proven effective. So long as we hold only Canterlot whilst the enemy has free rein o’er Equestria, they can spend blood far more freely than we.”
Her gaze turned to the window, grimly looking out o’er the rainy city. “The rebel militia may be poor soldiers, but they still make us pay in blood when they strike. Our own frontline soldiers are better trained and equipped than the rebel militia, but they are not the equals of Pegasopolan warriors. We have to husband our best forces; we cannot afford to waste our knights, pegasus warriors, and magi ere a greater battle is joined.”
“Dark times indeed.” Mine eyes closed as I mulled o’er all that I had learned. “It sounds as if the war is balanced ‘pon the knife's edge for us. A single error could easily be our undoing.”
“In a manner of speaking, aye.” She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “I think only a colossal blunder would break our cause outright. The third line is now ready to fall back upon if need be. What I fear more is the slow grind of attrition, and in such a war we can ill afford even a single preventable death. Though I take some solace from the fact that not all is well with the rebels.”
I was gladdened to at last hear some hopeful tidings. “What troubles them? I pray 'tis that not all the rebels agree with Swift Blade’s actions and the rise of the Avatar.”
“A number do not,” she confirmed, though to my sorrow she did not seem pleased by the news. “However, at the moment the discontent seems limited and controlled. A few more deserters joined our cause once they realized that associating with warlocks and abominations would damn them all, but far too few for our liking.” She shrugged helplessly. “From what we have learned from our turncoats, most do not wish to cross the Avatar. Though many are displeased, they are also convinced that the fall of Canterlot is but a matter of time. Whate’er doubts the rebel soldiers nurse in their hearts do us little good so long as they fight and follow orders. Which is why we are trying to find ways to make life unpleasant for them in whate’er way we can, in the hopes of fanning the flames.”
Not the grand news I had hoped for, but mayhaps ‘twould prove a beginning of something greater. “I take it then that my clan's numbers are improved? Have other clans joined our cause?”
“Aye, I suspect that thou hast gained most of the remaining strength of thy clan,” Sunbeam answered, filling my heart with joy. “Only a few stubborn holdouts remain loyal to the rebel cause, and they no longer hold a seat in Swift’s Ephorate.”
“Alas, other tidings are not so glad,” she continued. “We receive the odd individual, but as of yet no other clans have broken ranks with the rebels. Rumor has it the Chargers were growing discontented, but the Avatar seems to have regained her control o’er the clan. I do not see the Strikers abandoning the Lunar cause either, if they are as stubbornly proud as thou didst say. I do have some hopes for the Doos, and have entertained thoughts of using Rightly to aid in that.”
Though the idea much appealed to me as well, I knew ‘twas a fool’s hope. “I doubt he would be willing to bend the knee to the Commander, howe'er wise that course would be. And e’en if he did, I am sure Swift and the Avatar would claim thou didst cast a spell upon him to compel his loyalty. Something many within the rebel camp would surely believe.”
Sunbeam scoffed and tossed her head. “More fools they. That stallion’s mind would break ere I could bend it. Alas, gentle persuasion has proven equally ineffective. Her Majesty personally approached him and asked that he see reason and do what is best for Equestria. He refused, and remains a devoted rebel despite the fact that the rebels have wholesale abandoned and betrayed all the ideals he started this war in defense of. Is there something they feed to pegasi to make all of you so damnably stubborn?”
Despite the troubles it created for our cause, I could not wholly hide the pride from my voice as I declared, “A warrior of Pegasopolis’s knees do not bend easily.”
“So I have learned,” she groused, glowering at me as if the entire affair were somehow my fault. “Regardless, at least some of our ventures have met with success. Our engineers seem to hold the advantage in the eternal war to route the city’s waste through the rebel camp, which I am sure has done nothing to improve their morale.” A mocking grin appeared on her face. “At least one deserter cited the fact that the rebel camp smells of shit as a prime factor in his abandoning the rebel cause.”
She continued her report. “Mossy Banks is also having quite a bit of success raiding the rebel supply line and encouraging resistance amongst the earth ponies, especially now that the Avatar is more freely spending their lives. If he survives the war, I shall have no choice but to make an archmagus of him.” A ghost of a smile passed o’er her lips. “I think I will enjoy seeing how the nobles react to a swamp-dwelling mushroom-eater taking one of the highest offices in the land.”
“So long as he wins battles for us, I care little for his decorum or lack thereof.” Though in truth, I agreed with Sunbeam’s sentiments. The nobles of Canterlot would benefit from being forced to associate with magi who actually made a contribution to Equestria. “Any other news?”
“Mine own role in the war, of course,” she announced immodestly. “For many of the skirmishes, I have been leading a team of select magi and knights in order to throw the rebels back at key points in the siege. That is both to show that we still have some teeth and to show that we can fight them.” Her smile widened, turning almost predatory. “Though in truth there is a grander design behind my strikes: I hope to lure the warlocks out with my presence and a suitable number of magi. Them or some of the other rebel leaders. I am making it seem like we are falling into a pattern they can predict, when in reality that is a face. I am baiting a trap for them.” Her hooves tapped the floor in a simple, happy cadence. “I have a team of magi experienced in warlock hunts and some of the more seasoned warlock hunters from your clan in reserve. The instant those traitors dare to show themselves, my forces will fall upon them.”
“A bold strategy.” I had already been considering a similar tactic once I learned that there were warlocks with the rebel army. “Though have a care that you do not draw out the Avatar as well. If she is truly the Commander's equal, or e’en near to such...”
“That is the greatest potential flaw within my plan,” she conceded, her lips creasing in a reluctant frown. “She has not yet taken the field, but that is no guarantee that she will not do so to slay me. I am something of a high priority target, and I slew one of her children. She has ample cause to seek my blood.” A flicker of some unreadable emotion passed o’er her face. “Though I hope that with other magi and experienced warriors at my side I might be able to o’ercome the abomination, I know the outcome is uncertain e’en if she comes alone. If she strikes accompanied by warlocks and her hetairoi... ”
Midnight once more stepped forward, wrapping both her forelegs around one of her mother’s and nuzzling it. “Mother, I do not wish for you to die fighting that abomination. Could not another lead?”
Sunbeam took a breath and slowly extracted herself from her daughter’s grip. “I am the Archmagus of Canterlot, child. ‘Tis my duty to preserve the realm and Queen Celestia’s crown, e’en if that puts me in peril.”
“But Mother!” Midnight cried out, trying to reclaim her hold. “Yesterday you said that Celestia is a fool who is unworthy of the crown ‘pon her head. Surely you do not—”
Midnight’s words were once more cut off as Sunbeam sharply cuffed the side of her head, glowering at the young filly. “Learn to guard thy tongue, child. Not all that I say in private is fit for public consumption. When in public, Queen Celestia has our absolute and unwavering support. Think upon that whilst thou art carrying water to our soldiers on the front lines.”
Midnight nodded meekly, accepting her punishment.
Satisfied, Sunbeam turned to me. “As I was saying, I hope that with thy recovery I might soon have another card to play against the rebels. Celestia’s work ‘pon thy platemail is a truly wondrous thing to behold. I am sure ‘twill sorely vex our enemies.”
I did not e’en need to give it a moment’s thought ere I nodded mine agreement. “Your plans would suit my preferred role and tactics on the battlefield.”
I stepped forward, approaching the chastened young Midnight, who was currently grumbling under her breath and rubbing her skull where her mother had cuffed her. With a grunt of pain, I forced my stiff limbs to bend, dropping me down to her level. “So long as I am by her side, I will not let any harm befall thy mother, child.”
Midnight’s eyes lit up at my declaration. “Thank you very much, Lady Shadow. That brings joy to my heart.”
Then she smiled. 'Tis a queer thing to see something so genuine and natural twisted, and e'en moreso when 'tis unintentional. Her lips curled upwards to bare her teeth, yet her eyes were untouched by the motion, her pupils shrinking until they were mere pinpricks in a sea of white. She held her gaze far too long for comfort, her uneven blinking sparse and veins readily apparent within her eyes the longer she failed to do so.
Mine entire body twitched back from her in an instinctive reaction to the horror before mine eyes, but years of discipline held me firmly in place, and a polite smile on my face. “I see.”
Mercifully, the smile left her face. “Good, because I do not wish to see her harmed, no matter what her duty is.” She stepped forward and awkwardly wrapped her limbs around one of my legs in something that was clearly intended to be a hug. “Please do keep her safe. She is the only family I have.”
I returned the hug, idly wondering how it was Midnight could be so inexperienced at the gesture when my Gale had given her many occasions to practice it. “I will protect her, child. I swear it upon my life and honor.”
Sunbeam chortled and placed a hoof on her daughter’s back. “Now child, do not make it sound as though I cannot care for myself. 'Tis not as though this were my first battle.”
Middnight turned to her mother, her eyes blinking slowly and subtly out of sync. “Mine apologies, Mother. I am merely gathering a circle of allies to protect you. Did you not say that I should gather allies to accomplish objectives which were important to me? Your safety is of the utmost importance.”
Sunbeam gazed down at her child for some time, then gently wrapped her leg around the filly and pulled her flush against her side, holding her gently. “Aye, so thou art. But let us return to more practical matters.”
“She merely wishes to keep thee safe, Sunbeam.” I gently chided, though in truth I felt that the mare’s unconscious act of affection towards her daughter outweighed the effect of her words. “As any loving child would.”
“Aye, 'tis so,” she allowed, turning to her daughter and bestowing upon her a nuzzle that made it plain why Midnight’s own attempts at affection often seemed awkward and forced. “I cannot reproach her for that.”
Sunbeam’s horn glowed, and I recognized the weaving of a privacy spell. Moments later Midnight’s mouth opened, but no sound emerged from it. The child’s eyes narrowed, and she soundlessly stomped the floor in frustration. Once Sunbeam was satisfied that her daughter had been removed from the conversation, she turned to me. “Though her request does bring another matter to mind. I think ‘twould be prudent to make arrangements for what will become of her in the event the worst should come to the past. I would be remiss in my duties as a mother if I did not do so, as much as I do not like to think about such things.”
I could well understand her concerns. I had taken some comfort in the knowledge that Gale was at least old enough to care for herself if I should pass, but that had merely raised another far more terrifying possibility: that I might live to bury my daughter. A spectre that seemed terribly likely now that she was within the Avatar’s grasp.
I steeled myself and put my fears for my daughter aside. There was nothing I could do for her at the moment, and worrying myself to distraction would accomplish nothing. Better to focus on matters that lay within my power. “Midnight has already approached me with such concerns some time ago. I have offered to take her into the clan, should you perish. I would adopt her as mine own child, and a sister to Gale.” I paused, once more attempting to put aside the fear that mine offer would only end with giving Midnight a new gravestone to visit alongside her mother’s. “Presuming thou wouldst not object to my taking her in.”
Sunbeam waved my concerns away. “‘Tis as fine an arrangement as any, and better than most I could imagine. I certainly would not want Midnight going to my blood family. They would be ... ill-equipped for a child with her needs. (2) I will express such wishes to Her Majesty when next I meet her, and have it placed within my will. Though I admit, I have rarely heard of a non-pegasus being adopted by a clan.”
2: Almost nothing is known about Sunbeam’s parents, possible siblings, or anything else about her life before she became a magus beyond a few simple details, like the fact that they were glassblowers. There is some debate over whether any records of them were simply lost due to her family being largely unimportant within Equestrian society, or if Sunbeam deliberately purged any records in an attempt to obscure her origins.
“Adoption of a non-pegasus into a clan’s ranks is rare, but not unprecedented,” I reassured her. “Thou wouldst not be the first pony to have a friend within one of the clans and worry that thy child might go uncared for shouldst thou fall. And ‘twill be much easier to tend her needs now that my clan dwells upon the ground for the foreseeable future.”
“Thou dost not intend to return to Cloudsdale once the war is won, then?” Sunbeam asked, seeming somewhat taken aback. “Was that not what thou didst keenly wish for?”
“I am ... less sure of that than I once was,” I confessed. “Cloudsdale was home to myself and my clan for many a year, but ‘twas also a city I had to flee to preserve my clan’s lives. Also think who would dwell there once this war is ended? A city full of ponies who fought alongside the Avatar of Nightmare Moon? Would my clan truly be at home in such a place?”
“A fair point,” Sunbeam agreed. “But likely a matter thou canst not truly decide until the war is ended. If I die and thou wouldst take thy clan to a place where my daughter cannot follow, I trust thou wilt make other suitable arrangements? I would see to it that my daughter is cared for. She is my final legacy to the world, after all.”
I nodded simply. “I have made the offer, and will not withdraw it unless asked.”
“Then we have an accord.” She stepped nearer to me, and ere I could take any action to prevent it in my current weakened state, pressed her lips against mine. The kiss was mercifully brief. “And so the bargain is struck and sealed.”
“Aye, so it is,” I agreed dully, still in shock from her actions. I was quite surprised she had been so bold, and e’en more surprised by my response to it: I was not angry or offended by the liberties she had taken. In truth, loath though I was to admit it, a part of me had almost enjoyed it. Plainly, it had been far too long since I had been properly kissed if e’en Sunbeam Sparkle’s lips could cause some small degree of pleasure.
Sunbeam shot a quick devilish smirk my way, then brazenly winked at me. Then, to prevent me from taking any action or e’en speaking against her, she swiftly removed the silencing spell lingering o’er her daughter.
Young Midnight was quick to voice her displeasure o’er what had passed. “Can you not just ask me to leave the room instead of doing that, Mother? Like the other parents?”
“Hush, child,” Sunbeam gently chided. “Thy mother knows best. In any case, Shadow and I only needed to exchange a few words that thou didst not need to hear.”
Midnight huffed in annoyance, but complied when ‘twas plain her irritation would avail her nothing. “Very well, Mother.”
“No great harm was done to thee, child.” For good measure, I gave the young filly a fortifying pat on the back.
“Aye, I suppose that is true,” she reluctantly allowed, a frown firmly in place. “Though the day when I can master such spells cannot come too quickly. ‘Tis most vexing to be within a room yet deaf to all that is said. Mayhaps I should learn to read lips.”
“'Twill come with time and study,” Sunbeam answered with the serene patience of a mare who has faced a child’s eagerness to grow many a time before. “I am sure the day is fast approaching when thy magic will come fully in and thou wilt earn thy cutie mark.”
“The day cannot come fast enough,” young Midnight groused.
I chuckled and ruffled her mane. “E'er impatient to grow older, like any child.” ‘Twas reassuring to see that for all her other oddities, the girl still acted as a filly her age should at times.
Midnight sighed and immediately set to work straightening her mussed hair. “I think I would like to be an adult more than a child. Then I could do as I pleased. Like stay up all night reading, eat ice cream when I wished, or call upon great magical forces to smite my foes and make them lament the day they crossed me.”
I could do naught but shake my head in bemusement. “Once thou art older, thou shalt find thyself missing the simpler days of childhood. Life is often full of such little ironies, I find.”
“Aye, and smiting one's foes is often not as simple as I make it sound,” Sunbeam informed her daughter. “For whate’er reason, no matter how many enemies I deal with, more show themselves to replace those foiled.” She paused in thought for a moment, then addressed her daughter’s other desires. “And thou wilt come to regret gorging thyself on ice cream or staying up all night when thy stomach becomes riotous and thou hast work to do in the morning.”
Young Midnight frowned, clearly unconvinced by her mother’s reasoning. “I am sure it is as you say, Mother,” she answered dutifully.
“It usually is, child,” Sunbeam answered airily before returning her attention to me. “Howe’er, I am afraid we must dispense with the small talk to deal with the other reason I have come to see thee, Shadow. From what Morning has told me, it will take months for thee to fully recover naturally. Too long in mine opinion.”
I quite agreed with her. “I take it thou hast a better solution?”
“I would hardly have raised the issue if I did not,” she declared with a satisfied smirk. “As I am sure thou dost recall, I have a reasonable grounding within the healing arts. Thy body yet recalls the old strength it once possessed, and I can awaken those memories and return thy muscles to their former state.” Her smile gained a cold, almost cruel edge to it. “Though I should warn thee, 'twill not be pleasant.”
Midnight winced, one hoof rubbing her knee. “She is not lying. I remember well the time I scraped my knee and Mother healed it. 'Twas most unpleasant, though at least she gave me ice cream afterwards.”
Sunbeam idly put a supportive hoof o’er her daughter’s shoulder, nodding to me. “Sadly, while fire is a very effective means of healing, it is not a gentle one.”
“I have endured pain before,” I answered stoically.
“Then I am sure that thou wilt be fine,” Sunbeam declared with a confident smile.
“You will not,” Midnight declared flatly.
I sighed and mentally readied myself. “I must endure it regardless.” I finally found a suitable piece of wood to bite down upon and improvised my bedsheets into padding for it.
Firelight began dancing along Sunbeam’s horn. “Just so, Shadow. Best to get it over and done with, for as thou didst say, we have little choice in the matter.” She gently pushed me down onto the bed. “Do try and stay still. If thou dost move too much, ‘twill make my task harder. And above all else, turn thy thoughts to accepting my magic. ‘Twould not do to have thy new armor disrupt my spellcasting. Pity ‘tis yet too soon to remove it.”
Ere I could ask what she meant by that last remark, Sunbeam’s flames passed into my flesh, and the spellwork began. As Midnight had warned me, ‘twas most unpleasant.
Once Sunbeam had finished her spellwork both she and her daughter excused themselves, I remained abed, still recovering from the effects of her magic. Though my body felt fully restored to its former state, the lingering pain was such that I thought it prudent to allow a few moments more for recovery. The mare had just spared me months of effort in restoring my strength; I could spare a few minutes to catch my breath.
I must have drifted off whilst lying within my bed, for when I awoke once more Commander Celestia was in quarters. The supreme leader of Equestria had clearly seen better days. While I could feel the lingering remnants of an enchantment to hide her true appearance, the mare before me had sunken cheeks and hollow eyes darkened by a lack of rest. Her mane lay limp and unbrushed about her shoulders, which were slumped as though she bore a terrible burden. Despite all that, she smiled when I met her eyes. “Welcome back, Shadow.”
“Commander.” I quickly rose from bed, attempting to make myself look as respectable as possible. “I apologize, I did not hear you enter, or I would have—”
She waved the rest of my words away. “As always, my champion, thou art too quick to worry that I would take offense o’er a mere trifle. If I were so worried o’er thine appearance, I would have ensured that thou wert awake and ready to receive me ere I entered.” She gently placed a hoof upon my shoulder and guided me back to the bed. “Lie down. Rest. Thou canst take it as an order from thy superior, if need be.”
I returned to my prior position. To my surprise, Commander Celestia’s hoof remained in place ‘pon my shoulder. After a long moment she shifted, gently cupping my cheek. “Shadow ... I am truly glad to see thee once more. I did not realize how much I had come to rely upon thy counsel until ‘twas stolen from me. I am pleased to see that mine efforts to maintain thy life were not wasted.” Her gaze flicked down to the armor covering my chest. “In addition to the pleasure of thy company, ‘twould have been a terrible shame to use the old boon Argentium owed me in a failed effort to restore you.” (3)
3; This presumably refers to the great dragon Argentium the Runescaled. The exact role Argentium played in the creation of Shadow’s armor is a matter of speculation, though given the fine craftsmanship, materials, and the presence of runes on the armor itself , many have guessed that she forged it.
“‘Tis a fine suit of armor,” I readily agreed. Howe’er, Sunbeam’s last words to me nagged at my memory. “Commander, Sunbeam stated that ‘twas ‘too soon’ for me to remove the armor. And you just said that the armor was part of the effort to restore me. It sounds as though this is far more than a mere suit of armor.”
Celestia fell silent, a troubled frown ‘pon her face. I suspect she was struggling to put the truth into words. I was in no mood to wait for her answer, and took action. I reached up and began to undo one of the straps holding my breastplate in place.
The Commander’s eyes widened in shock, and she hastily restrained me. “No! Thou must not! The transfer is not yet complete!”
I ceased mine efforts, fixing her with a piercing gaze. “The transfer?”
She froze, and her ears fell flat. “Yes.” She steadied herself, and took a breath. “Thy wounds were too severe. We could not sustain thy life force for the time needed to repair thy flesh. We were forced to find an ... alternate vessel.”
I scowled as the full implications of her words sank in. “You stored my soul in a phylactery ere my flesh died.” I rapped a hoof against the armor. “I am no longer a mare wearing a suit of armor. Now I am a suit of armor wearing a mare.”
“‘Tis only a temporary measure,” she hastily assured me. “Thy body has already been restored, and we have begun the process of returning your essence to it. ‘Twill only be a few weeks ere thou canst remove the armor freely.”
“But until then, I am this ... abomination.” I scowled at my Commander. “Justify this.”
“Equestria needed you.” She sighed, then met mine eyes. “And I needed you.”
“I see.” I knew there was truth in her words, howe’er much I did not care for my current state. My discomfort was nothing against the good of the realm. “A final question, then: did I die? Was my preservation and restoration an act of necromancy?”
She hesitated for a long moment, then answered with utmost care. “Thou must understand, Shadow, that most ponies have a very imperfect understanding of the journey one makes through life and death. ‘Tis not so simple as a binary state of being, there are—”
I cut her off. “Did my heart still beat? My lungs take in breath?”
Her face fell, making the answer plain e’en before her words confirmed it. “Neigh, but there remained a spark of life within thee that I—”
I slowly turned my back upon her. ‘Twas perhaps rude and foolish of me, but I was in no mood to hear more on the matter. “Commander, I would very much appreciate time to myself.”
She said nothing to me, and several moments later I heard the door open, then close, leaving me alone with my troubled thoughts.
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I did not remain abed and trapped in melancholy o’erlong, despite my considerable distress o’er what Celestia had done to me. I was a soldier of Pegasopolis, and as such accustomed to enduring far worse tribulations than emotional distress. I would do my duty.
For the moment, I sought to test my strength and ensure that all was well with my body. While Sunbeam’s spells seemed to have restored it to its former state, I was disinclined to trust muscles that had spent a month abed. ‘Twas only prudent to ensure that all was as it should be ere I entered combat, where the slightest imperfection might render the Commander’s efforts to preserve my life entirely moot.
After some brief consideration, I opted to request a spar from Sergeant Stalwart. Though he was not the best bladespony among my clanmates, he was a highly skilled instructor who would assuredly spot any flaws in my technique and quickly correct them. That would be far more useful than facing a pony who could equal my blade skill.
I stepped out onto the practice field, stretching my wings and readying my limbs. The sergeant stood at the opposite end of the field, similarly preparing himself. It had taken some time to arrange for a private spar with him, as much of my clan was quite eager to see my performance. ‘Twould seem that many wondered if I had been weakened after a month in my sickbed. Though I could hardly blame them for that when I sought to test mine own skills in no small part because I feared that those very concerns might be valid.
After a quick scan of the area to ensure we had no unwanted observers, I nodded to Stalwart and stepped forward. “My thanks for taking the time out of thy no doubt busy schedule to spar me, Sergeant.”
“Of course, 'tis my pleasure.” He paused, a wry grin stretching his lips. “And I could hardly refuse an order from my honored materfamilias , regardless.”
I chuckled and acknowledged his point, though I had hardly given him a direct order. Had he begged off doing so, I would have found another sparring partner rather than insist. “It has been too long since we tested one another. I had grown accustomed to having Gale as my sparring partner.” A moment after I mentioned her name I recalled her fate, the knowledge striking me in the gut like a physical blow. My daughter yet lingered in rebel captivity, yet I jested with my subordinates and carried on as if naught were amiss. I should be devoting mine every waking thought and moment to finding a way to free her. I could relax or joke once my daughter was safely returned to me. How could I call myself her mother if I did anything less?
At the same time, I knew the practical reality of the situation. My clan still needed its mater , and the rest of Equestria still needed me to support the Commander. The world did not stop turning simply because my daughter had been captured by the enemy. Bright had lost herself after her daughter’s death; I would not do the same simply because my daughter was in peril and I could do nothing to help her.
Sergeant Stalwart must have guessed at the source of my disquiet, for his face hardened. “We will get her back. I give you my word on that, honored mater .”
I took a deep breath, returning my thoughts to the matter at hoof as best I could. “Yes. Yes of course we will. I only wish I knew how and when she would be returned to us.”
Stalwart paused in his own preparations. “Honored mater , mine own child is amongst the rebels. Though I will not pretend the circumstances are identical, I think mayhaps it gives me some understanding of your troubles.”
He was likely correct in that. His family remained within the rebel camp, though unlike my daughter their presence was voluntary. Sierra Doo still fought alongside the rebel forces, and her daughter Astra was treated no differently than any other child whose parents remained loyal to the rebellion. Still, he had only seen her once since the war began when I had dispatched him to the rebel camp as an envoy.
Though given the dark turn the rebel cause had taken of late, his wife’s continuing loyalty to the rebellion no doubt troubled him. “Not everypony in the rebel camp has lost their minds, I am sure of it.” He sounded as if he were trying to convince himself as much as me. “We know those ponies, not all of them can agree with what has transpired. They only remain loyal because of duty and honor, not because they approve of the madness that has become the rebel cause.”
“Aye, ‘tis likely so.” There had been no shortage of divided opinions amongst our own camp, and we had done nothing so terrible as the rebels’ dealings with warlocks. “But it matters little to us if they disapprove but remain silent on the matter. So long as they remain under arms against us and march with the rebel army, they add their strength to the Avatar’s cause.” I sighed and shook my head, feeling unaccountably tired despite the fact that we had not e’en begun our exercise yet. “But let us not linger on such dark thoughts. I have spent a month abed, and must exert myself as a warrior should.”
“Very well,” Stalwart answered with a dutiful nod. “I have worked with soldiers who were long in recovering from their wounds before. I would suggest we begin slowly, then gradually intensify the work as your body recalls its old instincts.”
“I will defer to your wisdom.” ‘Twould be foolish to recruit the best trainer within the clan only to ignore his advice in his area of expertise. “Though I will say that I do not wish to be coddled. If there is any weakness within me, I would know it now while there is still time to correct the problem.”
Stalwart chuckled and offered a half-bow. “As you command, honored mater . We are in private, so there is no need to worry about anypony overseeing anything they should not.” He spread his wings and planted his hooves, readying himself for battle. “Though given the fierceness of your reputation as a warrior, I suspect that ‘twill preserve my dignity more than yours.”
“I suppose we shall see soon enough.” I faced him with a dry smile as I snapped mine own blades out. “I presume I can trust thy discretion, should I prove so incapable that I am roundly beaten?”
The sergeant answered my smile in kind. “I am forever loyal to my honored mater .” His smile turned to a wry grin. “Even if I should defeat her like she is some fresh recruit who has not even touched a blade yet.”
Stalwart closed in on me, carefully measuring my defenses with basic probing strikes. I countered and blocked them to the best of mine ability, but my moves felt awkward and clumsy. I e’en missed one of my parries entirely, my blade passing in front of his too soon.
Stalwart frowned faintly, falling into the usual routine I saw him use with the clan’s newest members. “Wrong. Time your parries.” He struck once more, now specifically aiming to draw out the evident flaw in my combat style.
I tried to counter his blows, but soon noted that I was consistently missing. Stalwart held his blows back for a fraction of a second, allowing my counters to pass before driving home his own blades, smacking their padded length ‘gainst my breastplate. ‘Twas most frustrating to find myself so badly outmatched, especially when I knew I was capable of far better.
I grimaced and slowed mine own movements, giving greater thought and care to each motion of my blades instead of relying upon instincts carefully honed o’er years of battle and training. I had become so accustomed to my blades functioning as all but an extension of my body that I had not given deep thought to how they acted for some time. ‘Twas much like giving deep thought to how one’s knees moved whilst walking down a road.
Howe’er, in this case the unusual focus proved beneficial. After several more missed strikes, I began to grasp the source of my problem. “Curious.”
Stalwart paused in his offensive. “Is there a problem, honored mater ?”
I opted not to share my revelations with him just yet. “I think not. More an unexpected boon.”
The spar resumed, and when next Stalwart struck my counters were flawless. Now that I had grasped why mine earlier strikes had been so poor, ‘twas easy to compensate. ‘Twas not long ere I had not only succeeded in defending myself, but had e’en shifted the initiative to my favor.
As I forced Stalwart back he grunted in exertion, nodding as quickly as he could manage. “Much better.” He quickly escalated his own strikes, trying to match my speed and skill.
I nodded, softly chuckling to myself. “Aye, I think I have thee now.” I trapped one of his blades with mine own and used it to pull him off balance, smacking my blade against the thin gap ‘tween his helmet and neck armor. Were this a true battle, I might have opened up his throat. “Oh damnation,” I hissed under my breath as I let him fall back to recover ere we began another round. “I think I shall have to thank Sunbeam Sparkle. And I am quite certain that if I do that, she will not allow me to forget it for many years hence.”
We resumed, and once more I quickly had the sergeant on the defensive, struggling to stave off my blows. He stepped back after I secured another victory, holding up his hooves in surrender as he paused to catch his breath. “What kindness has she done you?”
I grinned and closed with him once more. “I believe she has done more than merely restore my body to its former state.” I slammed a double-bladed strike down upon his upraised blades, making him stagger beneath the blow. “I feel faster, stronger, and more vigorous than I have for many a year. Mayhaps she healed the many minor aches and pains of age and use. Or mayhaps 'tis simply that after my prolonged rest I am quite full of energy.”
Stalwart grunted in effort and fell back, holding up a wing to request a moment to recover. “Whate’er the case, you certainly strike like a young and strong mare. For a mare who has not left her bed for a month, your recovery is phenomenal.”
“Aye. I feel as though I were ten years younger.” I grinned, rolling my shoulders and swishing my blades through a complex series of movements more akin to a blade dance than combat. “'Tis a most welcome feeling.”
“I would think so.” He paused, and a slight frown creased his face. “Though I cannot help but wonder why, if the Archmagus can restore an aged body to its prime, that knowledge has not been put to use more widely. There are many aged warriors who could be far more dangerous if the strength of their youth were restored.”
Mine own thoughts briefly turned to Grandmaster Crossguard and his noble death in battle. I cannot imagine that Sunbeam would have let such a valued ally fall if she had the knowledge needed to restore his youth. For that matter, she would surely have put it to use sooner, securing her political power and legacy. A mare who could restore even a portion of youth to the world’s aged and decrepit would have power o’er all, and Sunbeam was far too hungry for control to leave such a resource untapped.
I shook my head, dismissing the matter from my mind. “Aye, upon further reflection ‘tis unlikely that she is responsible for this. More likely ‘tis just that my body has forgotten the joy of combat after so long abed, and is now invigorated to rediscover it.”
Stalwart nodded. “Aye, I have seen such in other warriors, though the results were less extreme. But then, they usually did not have their wounds and slackened muscles instantly restored by an Archmagus. Who is to say how that could change things?”
“Aye, well reasoned.” I much preferred his explanation to my first instinct, and not only because it would spare me the indignity of being in Sunbeam Sparkle’s debt. I much preferred to fight with mine own strength rather than something granted to me by another. “So then, if my body is so eager to see battle, ‘twould be most churlish of me to refuse its desires, neigh? Shall we continue then?”
“Of course,” he answered dutifully, though his eyes betrayed his wariness. “Though it seems this will be a harder training session than I expected. I trust you will forgive me if I cannot match you at the height of your strength.”
I chuckled, feeling some of the easy confidence of youth flooding my heart alongside the vigor of my body. “Fear not, sergeant. I am given to understand there will be a wedding soon. 'Twould not do to have thee too badly bruised for it.”
“Aye,” the sergeant agreed. “The binding of our Nimbus to that unicorn knight she is quite taken with. ‘Tis said it will be quite the event. A feast—or as close to one as can be managed with the city on rations—bards, and what games and diversions we can risk. Word has it the rebels have agreed to a truce for the day as well, though of course we will watch them regardless. Still, ‘twill be good to forget the war, e’en if only for a few hours.”
“Aye, that it will.” A moment later, guilt struck me once more. To forget the war was to forget my daughter as well. I did not think I could do such a thing.
Rather than linger on such dark thoughts, I buried them as I closed in on the sergeant once more. It proved only partially successful, for as we sparred I was reminded of why Gale was my preferred partner. Stalwart was a proficient combatant, but years of instructing our clan’s youths had influenced his combat style. His strikes showed an unparalleled grasp of the fundamentals of blade combat, but he lacked the inventive flair of a true master.
That made quite the contrast compared to Gale. My daughter was e’er the experimenter, testing me with new and increasingly bizarre weapons whene’er we faced one another. Each time I faced her I was forced to grow and adapt, for she would not be the same mare I had fought before. Stalwart, while skilled within his chosen area of combat, was ultimately a warrior of limited dimensions by comparison.
As such, ‘twas not long ere I had the sergeant wholly on the defensive, unable to do anything more than desperately fend off my blows. Indeed, I ensured that he was so focused upon my blades that he entirely missed where the true strike would come from. Once I had him fully engaged, I slammed an armored hoof directly into his chest. He let out a loud grunt and staggered back, nearly knocked from his hooves. While he was so badly off balance, ‘twas simplicity itself to strike ‘gainst him and secure my victory.
He held up his forelegs and wings, signalling his surrender. To my surprise, I noticed that my blow had left a distinctly hoof-shaped impression upon his breastplate. ‘Twould seem that I had underestimated mine own strength. “Shall we end it here, then?”
Stalwart’s eyes fell down to his dented armor, and he grimaced. When he spoke, there was a hint of a pained rasp to his words. “Aye, honored mater , I think I would prefer that. I know my ribs most certainly would.”
“Mine apologies,” I murmured, my gaze lingering on the damage I had caused to his armor. “I did not intend to strike so hard.”
It seemed that my forced indolence had left me so hungry for battle that I would not be sated by a mere spar. A troubling thought, for I had ne’er seen myself as given to bloodlust. Aye, I have always had pride in my skills and taken pleasure in doing my duty well, but I had ne’er loved battle as some ponies did. I could only hope this change was a temporary one. I could not help but be reminded of Bright Charger, who of all the ephors revelled in the thrill of combat. Mayhaps that was part of what led to her fall from grace.
Stalwart stared at me curiously for several seconds, then slowly shook his head. “There is no need to apologize, honored mater . I took no significant injury, and a few minor bruises are all but inevitable when two grown warriors spar in earnest.” He glanced down to his damaged armor. “Though mayhaps I could consider adding more padding if we are to spar again.”
“I do not think we will,” I answered as gently as I could. “Though I found thy services most helpful, I would not wish to wound one of my most valued subordinates simply because mine own sparring proved too vigorous.”
“Ah.” I could hear the wounded pride in my sergeant’s voice. “Mine apologies that my skills were inadequate to your needs.”
“Neigh, nothing of the sort,” I hastily assured him. “I required a teacher, not a pony with unmatched combat prowess. I learned much of value from facing thee, and in truth thy skill as an instructor of young ponies is far more valuable to the clan than mine ability with a blade.” (1)
1: Considering Stalwart was one of many authors who contributed to the first edition of the Equestrian Guard Training Manual, his knack for training young recruits has continued to have an influence all the way into modern times.
With his pride salved, the stallion provided a genuinely grateful smile. “Of course, mater. Regardless, I had best see to mine armor. By your leave, honored mater.” He saluted, and I promptly returned it.
I was about to allow his departure when something about his choice of words struck me as curious. “Sergeant, a question. Why is it that thou dost address me as honored mater ?” If he had done so but once I might have thought nothing of it, but upon reflection I was certain he had used the term quite consistently.
The sergeant blinked in surprise, then deferentially ducked his head. “It is ... something many ponies have taken to doing since you fell. Of late it seems one can hardly walk down the streets of the city without hearing talk of how our victory is near now that you are returned to our ranks. E’en amongst the unicorns there are many who speak well of you. It seems that ‘Honored Shadow’ is the name on everypony’s lips when they speak of hope for our future.” He paused a moment, then shrugged. “I suppose that I agree with such talk.”
He hesitated a moment, then quickly retrieved his saddlebags, digging through them and extracting a crudely written pamphlet, which he passed to me. I opened it, quickly reading o’er the contents.
‘Canterlot and all Equestria is in peril! The armies of darkness, led by the very avatar of the abominable Nightmare Moon herself, stand at our gates, and if they are not stopped they will destroy all that is good and decent within Equestria. We stand upon the precipice of disaster! Our queen seems powerless in the face of this growing threat! Who will save us?
‘Thankfully, my friends, there is an answer to that question. Shadow Kicker. Yes, Honored Shadow, who valiantly struck down both Bright Charger and her eldest daughter when the two of them ambushed her in the midst of a ceasefire. Though Bright has risen once more as a slave to darkness, the mare who slew her once shall do so again.
‘Let us stand together, and show these servants of evil that their death waits in the shadows.’ (2)
2. For once, Noun Verb’s frequent interpolations of the text of Shadow’s memoirs actually provided something useful. The above pamphlet text was not part of the first edition of her autobiography. Thus, despite my initial inclination to remove all of his influence on Shadow’s work, I have elected to preserve this particular addition.
By the time I was done perusing the material I was tempted to rip the paper to shreds. I did not care for the honors it heaped upon me, nor the lies used for no better purpose than to further enhance my renown. While I do not object to being recognized for mine accomplishments, the tone of this work was entirely wrong. It seemed altogether too fawning, and it disquieted me. All the moreso because it seemed that many ponies, mine own trusted sergeant amongst them, took the words to heart.
I quickly returned the paper to Stalwart ere my temper grew so foul that I acted regrettably. “My thanks to thee for bringing this matter to mine attention. Good day, sergeant.”
“And good day to you, honored mater,” he responded. “Despite the bruises it cost me, ‘tis good to see you on your hooves once more.”
“Aye, and 'tis good to be upon them,” I readily agreed.
Soon enough we arrived at the day of the much anticipated wedding of Nimbus Kicker to Sir Radiant Day of the Order of Sol Invictus. It seemed all Canterlot had turned out for the nuptials. At first I was quite surprised that so many unicorns had taken an interest in my clansmare’s wedding, given that she must be all but a stranger to them. Howe’er, I think they did not truly need to know her to celebrate the wedding of two of our most accomplished young warriors. And mayhaps more than that, the identities of the bride and groom were a secondary consideration; for most of the populace, the wedding represented an opportunity to forget that we lived in a city under siege and simply enjoy life’s simple pleasures for a few hours.
There had been some minor disputes regarding the execution of said wedding on account of the differences ‘tween unicorn and pegasus customs. In the end, the unicorns had largely won out on account of the wedding being a public event within a unicorn city. Pegasopolan wedding customs made a poor match for the pageantry Sunbeam intended for this event to display. Howe’er, Nimbus did secure a few vital concessions, such as the right to wear her armor instead of a ridiculous gown. A war heroine should be married whilst looking the part.
I sought out the bride-to-be shortly ere the ceremony was to begin. The wedding itself was to occur in the palace, as befit such a major public event. Whoe’er was responsible for organizing this o’erelaborate ceremony had decided that I should play the role of escorting her down the aisle to her new beloved. (3) It seemed a needless complication to me, but not so much of a bother than I objected to it.
3: Pegasopolan wedding customs were fairly simple, with the actual wedding ceremony only taking a few minutes. Each of the warriors would declare their devotion to their partner and present a token of some sort, usually a trophy taken from a particularly fearsome enemy or a valiant act on the battlefield inspired by their love. This proved that the warrior was a worthy partner, and could provide for their other half if need be. In the case of Nimbus and Radiant, their capture of Rightly Doo fulfilled that role.
Shadow also seems to be serving the ceremonial functions usually reserved for the bride’s parental figure during the wedding. As Nimbus’ father was still alive and well during the war, this was presumably a part of the general public spectacle of the wedding.
I found Nimbus attended by a mixed group of our young clanmares and a few unicorns who were busily working to make her as presentable as possible. I personally thought she already looked quite fine, yet one mare seemed to be obsessively toying with her mane while another polished her armor despite it already being at a mirror sheen. Weddings seem to bring out some of the more ridiculous traits in mares. One would think they had forgotten we were soldiers in a time of war.
“Clear the room,” I rumbled, instantly silencing all other conversation. “I would have words with the bride ere the ceremony begins.”
The bridesmaids wasted no time in removing themselves, though much to mine irritation several of them murmured soft apologies to ‘honored mater ’ or ‘honored Shadow’ as they departed. Thankfully, soon enough the only ponies remaining within the room were myself and Nimbus. The bride-to-be smiled nervously, shifting about on her hooves and glancing out the window at the palace grounds, where servants were already hard at work preparing for the reception. If there was one thing both Pegasopolis and Unicornia agreed on, it was that a wedding should be followed by a grand feast and celebration.
I was briefly at a loss for words now that ‘twas time to actually speak to Nimbus. “My congratulations,” I began. “I understand that Commander Celestia herself will conduct the ceremony. That is a great honor.”
“Indeed, mater ,” Nimbus answered softly. I was greatly relieved that she did not address me as ‘honored mater ’ or any variation thereof. “I confess, I had not thought my wedding would be such a grand event. An entire city watching, the Commander herself conducting it, my mater escorting me down the aisle and passing my hoof to my new husband. ‘Tis all rather ... o’erwhelming. Would you think less of me if I confessed that I am almost tempted to flee?”
“I would not,” I stepped to her side, smiling gently. “A mare who has ne’er wed can hardly criticize a bride for her fears.”
“Why did you not marry?” A moment after the question left her lips, Nimbus’ eyes widened, and a hoof covered her mouth. “F-forgive me, mater . I should not have been so forward with you.”
“I take no offense,” I assured her with an easy wave. I paused, giving more thought to the matter than it likely deserved. “Poor choices and poor timing, I suppose. I took lovers in my youth, but none of them were the sort who I could see myself wedding.” I thought back to Copper, whose company I had greatly enjoyed but ne’er considered seeking a more permanent arrangement with. At the time, I considered the barrier ‘tween pegasus and unicorn insurmountable. Nimbus plainly put the lie to that belief.
I cast the thought of poor, murdered Copper from my mind. “Once I grew older ... the heart does not always make wise choices.” To my shame, my fondness for Rightly began whilst his wife yet lived. I tried more than once to set it aside, but was ne’er fully successful. “I suppose I made the error of thinking it could always wait for another day, until there were no more days left to me.” I chuckled bitterly, my mind upon the war once more. “Ill luck and poor timing played a role too. But neigh, ‘twas mostly mine own missteps that were to blame.”
I stepped forward, gently resting a hoof on the younger mare’s shoulder. “Do not repeat my mistakes, young Nimbus. Thou hast a fine stallion who loves thee dearly. Cleave to him. I know that this may not be the ceremony thou dreamt of as a young filly, but the baubles and trappings of thy wedding will only last for the day. ‘Tis the stallion thou shalt live with for the rest of thy life that truly matters.”
Nimbus’ gaze drifted out the window once more, and when I followed it I saw Radiant Day himself bustling about the courtyard, presumably making some last-minute preparations. His sister trailed close behind him, and to judge by the look of things she was as busy calming a nervous groom as I was with the bride.
I chuckled and gave her a fortifying pat on the back. “Aye, the two of thee shall be a fine match.”
For all the surrounding pageantry, the true heart of the ceremony was a relatively simple affair. I found it oddly reassuring that the bride and groom’s processions were more akin to military parades than the o’erdramatic specatacle I feared. My clan and the Knights of Sol Invictus both escorted their respective members to the altar and aside a touch of grandiloquence the final result was much like any other wedding. To one side was Nimbus and her bridesmaids; to the other, Radiant, his sister serving as best mare, and a few of his companions from the Order.
And in the center, Commander Celestia. She caught mine eyes as I escorted Nimbus to the altar, but I refused to acknowledge her. A wedding was hardly the time or place to speak of all that had passed ‘tween us.
Once all were in place, Celestia began the ceremony proper. Much of her address was the usual words one expects o’er the course of a wedding: reflecting on the nature of love and marriage in general, and the relationship ‘tween Nimbus and Radiant in particular. Howe’er, one moment in the speech caught mine attention, in no small part because she fixed her eyes upon mine whilst solemnly declaring. “Love, true love, is an act of sacrifice. To love somepony is to do everything you can to preserve their life and happiness. Sometimes we must even hurt the ones we love in order to protect them. It is an unpleasant and painful reality, and we can only hope that the ones we care for will understand our reasons in the fullness of time.”
She paused for a long moment after those words, nodding towards me so imperceptibly that I was not entirely certain if it had truly happened or if I was simply imagining it. That done, she resumed the rest of the ceremony.
I was not blind to her meaning. Her actions had indeed preserved my life, and I was not ungrateful for that. Howe’er, she had preserved my life at the cost of mine equinity. For all her assurances that ‘twas but a temporary issue, I was currently a suit of armor manipulating a dead mare’s flesh like some macabre puppeteer. I could not help but wonder if mayhaps the vigor I had displayed ‘gainst Stalwart in our earlier spar was not the product of indolence at all, but rather some fell strength gained as a result of my new condition. Or mayhaps my essence was simply not as aware of my flesh’s exertion or old pain if I were not encased within it.
Aye, she had saved my life, and she had my gratitude for that. In time she would have my forgiveness for it as well. But not today. Nor, I think, in any day ere mine essence was fully restored to my body.
Once the ceremony concluded, the newlyweds strode out into the richly decorated courtyard, surrounded by celebrants, well-wishers, and ponies who simply wanted to enjoy the wedding feast. I was, to my relief, seated at the high table in a place of honor as part of the bride’s party, as befit my status as materfamilias of the clan. Commander Celestia remained at the royal table, distant enough that I needed not fear her attempts to speak with me.
While the quantity of food provided for the feast was such that nopony truly feasted, the royal chefs had attempted to make up the difference by ensuring that what food was served was of the highest possible quality. I later learned that the wedding had been delayed for a month in part to ensure that it occurred when our perishable food stock was nearly spoiled so that we could eat well and richly without fear of wasting supplies. For a few precious hours, Canterlot did not feel like a city which would, by our quartermaster’s estimates, be forced to supplement our diet with rodents if the siege remained in place for a further six months.
After the food came the dancing. Forewarned of this hazard, I had availed myself of a book on the subject. ‘Twas not so complex as it seemed, and a lifetime of blade training had granted me a keen awareness of my hoofwork.
My first partner was the groom himself, whilst Nimbus danced with her new father-in-law. No doubt ‘twas some custom regarding dancing with the elders of the newly married couple. Radiant proved a skilled dancer who subtly corrected errors to my dancing form without so much as a spoken word to call attention to them. We danced in silence, save for my final words to him ere we parted ways. “Treat her well, else I shall be displeased.”
A faint smile quirked at the young knight’s lips. “But of course, Lady Shadow.”
As the married couple shared another dance, I found my thoughts lingering on young Nimbus. Treacherous as it seemed to e’en consider it, the cold, pragmatic center of my mind noted that if Gale should perish in rebel hands, she would make a fine heir to the clan. A young and accomplished warrior already beginning her legend and showing the potential for much greater things. Aye, she would make a fine heir ... yet to e’en think of finding a replacement for my Gale seemed like unto abandoning her.
And yet, mine own near-death and Gale’s capture was all the proof I needed that I must have a secondary heir. War was a dangerous thing, and my clan could ill afford to be leaderless. However, I should choose a new heir who I trusted to lead the clan at once. Nimbus and e’en Gale had much potential, but were not yet ready to lead in war. A pony who would be a great general in a decade was of little use when a general was needed now. Mayhaps ‘twould be wiser to choose a more experienced pony, like Sergeant Stalwart. (4) Sometimes present competence is more valuable than future brilliance.
4 : While Shadow doesn’t mention it here, during her convalescence the clan resolved the leadership vacuum by naming Celestia as temporary acting materfamilias. Sergeant Stalwart served as her advisor on clan affairs during this period, and in all likelihood was the one actually responsible for the day-to-day running of the clan since Celestia was already quite busy ruling Equestria. While Shadow doesn’t discuss this in her memoirs, the fact that she considers him capable of running the clan indicates that she was aware of it.
A light tap upon my shoulder tore me from my contemplations, and I turned about to find myself facing the Commander. “Might I have this dance, Shadow?”
I could hardly refuse her in so public a venue. “Aye, Commander.”
And so we danced. The Commander moved with an easy, fluid grace which showed an easy familiarity that could only have come from centuries of practice. Though mine own skills in the area remained passable at best, she effortlessly guided me along, making it seem as though I was far better than I truly was. As we moved across the floor, I noted more than one couple pausing, their eyes locked upon our movements.
Would that words flowed as easily ‘tween us as our hooves moved. “‘Twas ne’er mine intention to upset thee so, Shadow,” the Commander murmured ‘tween our steps. “I would have preferred to have told thee of all that I did to save thy life under better circumstances. Neigh, what I truly wish is that I had been there at the front lines, so that I could have tended thee sooner. Mayhaps then thou wouldst not have had to suffer the indignities needed to save thy life.”
I twirled her ere I gave mine answer. “If you were at the frontlines, Commander, I would have told you to save my daughter and strike down Bright Charger ere you concerned yourself with my condition.”
For a brief moment her face darkened, and I saw the slightest hints of a terrible fury. “What the rebels have done to Bright Charger is an abomination. Had I known what madness they would unleash, I would have slain her myself to spare her that fate.”
“Instead you have made an abomination of your own,” I countered bitterly e’en as our hooves entwined with one another. “So that you might confront the Avatar with a being of equal capabilities.”
Though her hooves ne’er faltered, the way Celestia’s countenance fell made it plain that my remark had cut her to the quick. In truth, I regretted the words as soon as they left my lips. Yet words spoken cannot be unsaid. “I apologize, Commander. That remark was unworthy of me.”
“Yes,” she agreed simply, but without condemnation. “Yet it was also unworthy of me to place thee in so difficult a position. Shall we accept one another’s apologies, then? I would not have discord ‘tween myself and my greatest champion.”
“I think it may yet be some time ere I can truly forgive all that has passed ‘tween us,” I murmured as she spun me about. “Yet I desire to do so. Better that I live in this form than die and leave Equestria vulnerable and my daughter in peril. I cannot forgive you today, but there are many more days yet before us.”
“I suppose that will suffice.” The dance ended, and to my surprise she dipped me low and placed a single gentle kiss upon my brow. “Whate’er else passes ‘tween us, my noble champion, know that I shall always care for thee. Thou hast been my stalwart supporter from the earliest days of this crisis, and I would see that loyalty and honor justly rewarded. If e’er thee or thine are in need, call upon me and I shall answer.”
I nodded, grateful for the magnitude of the offer e’en though my heart told me that a royal boon was poor compensation. To be owed a personal favor by the ruler of Equestria was no small thing, especially when the offer came without condition or reservation. And yet, a part of me could not help but see it as an attempt to buy forgiveness.
Thankfully, the song’s end provided me with an easy excuse to part company with the Commander. Howe’er I halted in my tracks as the bards struck up a new tune, one of them proudly singing a ballad.
A ballad about myself, and my supposed duel with Bright and Lance Charger. ‘Twas a work of such utter fiction that I was of a mind to storm up to the stage and shatter the lute o’er the musician’s head. Ere I could do so, Sunbeam Sparkle strode up to me, imperiously extending a hoof. “I hope that Her Majesty did not set thine expectations too high? I am a fair dancer, but I could hardly replicate that performance.”
I saw little reason to refuse her, and as with the Commander refusing to do so would give the appearance of discord ‘tween us. “Very well, a dance it is.”
“Excellent.” Sunbeam proved a capable dancer, though lacking the Commander’s easy grace and ability to guide me with a subtle touch. Still, the two of us managed well enough, and she surprised me by smiling with unexpected warmth. “Thou dost seem to be recovering quite well.”
“I suppose I owe thee some measure of thanks for that,” I returned, answering her smile in kind. “Thy spells to restore my strength seemed most effective. If anything, I suspect I might be e’en stronger than I once was.”
“I had ne’er taken thee for a flatterer,” she answered with a low, throaty chuckle. “And I know ‘tis naught but flattery, for my healing arts can only restore what once was. ‘Tis the nature of my magic. Still, thy gratitude is duly appreciated. I put no small amount of work into preserving thy life and strength. I am sure thou wilt find a suitable method of repaying me.”
“Mayhaps I will.” A hint of anger entered my tone, for I knew that Sunbeam had doubtless played a role in bringing about my current state. Though curiously mine anger towards her was far less than what I felt toward the Commander. After a moment’s thought, I struck upon the source of the disparity: I expected such an act from Sunbeam Sparkle. The mare had unapologetically presented herself as willing to perform whate’er foul acts she judged necessary for the greater good. Commander Celestia, on the other hoof, held herself to a higher standard.
Sunbeam noted my displeasure, reacting with thinly veiled irritation. “Come now, what troubles thee? Didst thy conversation with the queen go awry, or is it simply that thou thinkest her a better dancer than me? I confess that she may be in some areas, but if the band struck up a fitting tune I would show thee moves she would ne’er dare perform.”
I tactfully ignored her latter statements. “Aye, matters ‘tween myself and the Commander remain somewhat troubled.”
Sunbeam sighed, grimacing and allowing me to take the lead in the dance for a few seconds. “Thou art far from the only one to be displeased with her. As my daughter’s loose lips have already revealed, I have had my share of disagreements with her as well. All the moreso in recent times, for with Crossguard slain and thyself wounded there is no other to moderate ‘tween us when matters grow heated.” She shrugged, seeming quite unconcerned by her ongoing feud with her queen. “In truth, I suspect that the only reason she tolerates me is that she knows the value of a dissenting view, e’en when less than kindly stated. Howe’er, my larger point is that I can quite understand anypony being displeased with her.”
I chuckled, though ‘twas a cold and humorless thing. “I take it thou hast some sage advice drawn from thy many troubles with her, then? Thou art ne'er shy in offering thine opinions as regards what all others ought to do.”
Sunbeam shrugged as the movements of the dance drew her nearer to me. Too near for my comfort, in truth. “It depends on what exactly troubles thee.” Her smile took on a cold, mocking edge. “Unless thou dost wish some vague piece of advice such as ‘believe in yourself’ or ‘friendship always carries the day.’ But if such empty platitudes were what you sought ‘twould be Her Majesty’s advice you wished for, not mine.”
I scowled, not in the least amused by her attempt at wit. Though I was displeased with the Commander, that did not mean I wished to hear her openly ridiculed. Howe’er, I knew all too well that confronting her o’er the matter would merely lead to an argument. I suspect that Sunbeam sometimes made outrageous statements merely for the pleasure of defending them when challenged. Rather than play her game, I denied her by remaining focused upon the matter at hoof. “I am sure thou canst guess at the source of my disquiet. Thou art aware of my nature, aye?”
“Aye, myself and Morning both played a part in preserving thy life,” she confirmed. “In particular, the Queen asked that Morning execute some of the more questionable spellwork which she did not wish to sully her oh-so-noble hooves with while I tended to thee whene’er she needed rest or her royal duties called her away. And all three of us played a role in forging thine armor as well.”
“By armor, thou meanest my new body,” I groused.
“Indeed so,” she answered breezily, brushing heavily against my side as we continued the dance. “I suppose I should not be surprised thou takest issue with thy current state, but I suspect your worries are o’erblown.”
“An easy thing to say when thou art not the one suffering the trouble,” I rumbled discontentedly. “While I am grateful for my life, I do not care to have it preserved by being transformed into an unnatural being.”
Sunbeam heaved out a put-upon sigh. “I give thee my word that thine essence remains unchanged despite all that we did. In truth, I find many ponies put far too much emphasis on their bodies as the core of their identity. When it comes to the truth of who and what thou art, what we did changed thee no more than trimming one’s mane.” She reached across my shoulder, idly toying with my hair. “Be assured that thou art Shadow Kicker in every way that matters. If thou wert some sort of monster or abomination, I would have set thee aflame the instant that became apparent. The fact that thou art not on fire speaks of mine opinion on the matter.”
“Aye, I suppose it does.”
We danced on in silence after that, which proved to be an error. So long as we conversed, I did not have to listen to the song the bard was currently in the midst of. The tale of how I supposedly slew both Bright and Lance when they ambushed me under a truce flag was naught but a foul lie, and if not for the fact that ‘twould spoil Nimbus’ wedding day I would have forced the bards to cease performing it. Though a part of me wondered if allowing such a brazen lie to go unanswered might equally sully the events.
E’er perceptive, ‘twas not long ere Sunbeam noted my displeasure. “Is the song not to your liking then?”
“'Tis a lie,” I answered simply, one of mine ears flicking in irritation as though the words were a bothersome insect. “A lie regarding myself and my deeds. Is it truly any surprise that I find such a thing offensive?”
She shrugged, seeming at quite a loss to understand mine objection. “Aye, ‘tis a lie, but what of it? 'Tis a lie that gives ponies hope during a time of desperation. And while by thy reckoning it may grant thee more glory than thou hast earned, it certainly does thee no harm. I call it a useful lie that serves the good of the realm, then.”
“Call it useful if thou wilt, but that does not make it any less a lie.” I paused, then glowered at her as a distressingly plausible thought struck me. “Thou art remarkably well informed of the song, and quick to defend its falsehoods.”
“But of course,” she agreed shamelessly. “I had half the bards and songstresses in the city competing to write anthems in thy honor. I find that a ballad is far more enjoyable when it has a simple, clean narrative structure. A bold, brave hero and foul, treacherous villains.”
I scowled at her. “I should have known ‘twas thy doing. It has all thine usual hoofmarks o’er it.”
She smirked, darting forward to kiss my cheek, then remaining close to whisper into mine ear. “Come now, Honored Shadow. If thou dost but give it a moment’s thought thou wilt see that there is little reason to be upset. Thou art a hero in a time when the ponies of Canterlot are in desperate need of one.”
“A true hero,” I growled out as I pointedly pulled back from her, “does not need lies to bolster their reputation.”
“Oh is that so?” Sunbeam challenged, a confident smirk that I recognized all too well playing across her lips. “By all means, name such a hero.”
I answered after only a moment’s hesitation. “Unerring Striker, Commander Luna’s second during the reclamation of Manehatten from the gryphons.”
“A popular figure ‘mongst the pegasi, I am sure,” Sunbeam murmured. “Tell me, what wouldst thou say if I told thee that some of Unerring’s famous victories were the result of the bravery and initiative of the soldiers beneath him rather than any action he took?
“I would not believe it,” I answered instantly.
“Of course not,” she murmured. “Because heroes do not do such things. But how dost thou know Unerring Striker? By the songs and tales sung of his deeds, neigh? When bards sing of thy deeds a century hence, ‘twill be my songs they sing, and my truths that all believe. Who is to say that Unerring did not have his account similarly adjusted?” (5)
5: Historiography on this point is still quite divided, primarily because Equestrian and Gryphonian records tell two very different (and equally biased) stories. We will probably never know for sure if Unerring was a hero, a glory-stealing rapist, or something in between.
Of course, that topic just reminds me that most of the information we have on Shadow comes from her own memoirs or accounts written by ponies close to her. However, given the almost complete lack of inconsistencies between these, it seems likely that Shadow’s memoirs are indeed historically factual. Though it would have been interesting to see what sort of post-war memoirs most of her opponents would have written...
The dance separated us for a time, Sunbeam and I standing apart while her eyes remained locked ‘pon mine. “Ponies need to believe that there is a hero who can defeat the enemies that lay siege to our gates. What would ponies think if they heard their paragon was nearly slain due to treachery, or the tale of how Lance really died? Which version of the story dost thou think would help our ponies stand firm in the face of the enemy?”
‘Twould seem that against my better judgement I had been drawn into a debate with Sunbeam Sparkle. As often happened with such debates, her arguments were frustrating. “The truth is always preferable to a lie, e’en if ‘tis less pleasant.”
“Is it?” she challenged. “E’en putting aside that truth can be subjective, what would you tell all that are gathered here? That we are outnumbered, being ground down? That the worst monster of our generation has assembled a great army to break down our gates and slaughter us all? What dost thou think is likely to happen if they are given no hope of victory?”
She pressed ‘gainst me once more as the dance brought us crashing together. “Surely thou knowest how often sieges end because someone within the city decides that all hope is lost and throws open the gates to the enemy merely to be done with it, or when foodstocks dwindle our citizens may turn upon one another, murdering o’er a single crust of bread. That is the fate awaiting a city that gives in to despair. Hope is a precious elixir during times such as these,“
“That it is,” I readily agreed, for once seeing the flaw in her reasoning. “And if thy lies are uncovered, hope will be lost far more swiftly. Better an imperfect truth than a perfect lie which will inevitably be uncovered.”
“If they discover the truth,” Sunbeam countered. “But who will tell them that? The enemy? None would trust their words, especially now that they revealed themselves as trucebreakers who consort with warlocks. E’en if we told the truth, the enemy would name us liars, for ‘twould better support their own lies. Surely thou dost not think the rebels admit ‘twas Bright who attacked ‘neath a flag of truce?”
“I do not doubt that they spread their lies, but that is no reason for us to sink to their level.” My hoof brushed along her back as the dance’s tempo increased. “The truth will always come out.”
“Then let it come out after we have won the war,” Sunbeam countered, whirling into my grasp. “By all means, salvage Lance Charger’s reputation. I will e’en help thee do so. (6) All I ask in return is that thou allow the war to be won ere thou dost concern thyself with such trivial matters as what bards sing.”
6: Sunbeam does deliver on this, in a manner of speaking. The highly entertaining work of fiction masquerading as her memoirs expands on Lance’s plans to end the war and claims that she was actually killed by Swift Blade and Hidden Facts in order to prevent her from ending the war and reunifying Equestria.
Though I did not care for the arrangement she offered, I saw little choice but to accept it. I could hardly afford to fight a clandestine propaganda war against one of my closest allies, and without Gale’s services I was unlikely to accomplish anything of note in such a conflict. “So be it then.”
Sunbeam grinned, revelling in her triumph. “I am pleased that thou hast seen the wisdom in doing as I say. Would that others were so open-minded.”
“I do not agree with thy methods, nor do I think I e’er shall,” I countered. “But unlike the Commander, I cannot order thee to desist. Whate’er my personal objections to thine actions, ‘tis plain that fighting thee would do more harm to our cause than good.”
“Thou needst not like it—merely accept it.” She smirked. “Besides, thou canst rightly claim to have played no hoof in this. ‘Tis not thy fault if the people spread false rumors about thee. Thou canst e’en deny them whene’er directly asked, so long as thou dost not make a concerted effort to undermine them or speak too vehemently. Most ponies will take such behavior for modesty, and ‘twill merely enhance thy reputation all the more.”
“Though I will move in concert with thee, I am not thy chess piece.” My grip on her tightened and I firmly reclaimed the lead as the music began to slow. “In the future, thou wilt consult with me before taking such actions. Elsewise, I shall move against thee. Conflict ‘tween us may not be in our best interest, but neither is it in mine interest to allow thee free reign to do as thou wouldst when thine actions affect me.”
A faint grimace crossed her muzzle. “I can hardly seek thy permission for mine every act. The very air I breathe right now affects thee, does it not?”
“Thou art quite proud of thine intellect, neigh?” I countered. “Surely thou canst manage to find the distinction ‘tween those acts that are of significance and those that are not.”
She scowled down at the ground for several seconds, then heaved out a long-suffering sigh. “I shall have no peace from thee unless I accept thy demands, shall I? So be it then. In the future, when acting upon matters that will impact thy clan, family, or thee personally, I shall seek thy prior consent if ‘tis at all practical.”
I frowned suspiciously at her choice of words. “Practical?”
She shrugged. “There may be times when events move swiftly and thou art unavailable. I trust thou wouldst not object to me saving thy life simply because thou wert too busy dying to grant thy permission.”
As before, I was certain she was quibbling o’er a situation she knew full well had not been a part of mine objections. “Thou knowest me well enough to gauge my desires, Sunbeam. Do not take acts that thou knowest I would object to or find questionable without first consulting me. ‘Tis not so complex a concept, is it?”
“Oh very well,” she conceded with poor grace, as if my demands were most unreasonable.
“Well and good.” I relaxed my hold on her, and we resumed the dance properly. “Now then, I take it thou art responsible for the poorly made pamphlets extolling my virtues as well?”
“Indirectly, aye.” She chuckled, allowing me to direct as I would for the final steps of the dance. “Though naturally I had to leave a less skilled hoof do the actual work. The crudity of the writing and production makes it seem all the more authentic.”
“A question for you, then.” I held her close against my chest, for it seemed the proper way to end this particular dance. “Why me, and not another? Thou wouldst surely enjoy public adulation more than I, and the Commander is a more natural figurehead.”
Sunbeam stared at me incredulously, then chuckled and shook her head. “Ah, Shadow, surely thou knowest that I am little loved in Canterlot. Respected and feared, aye, but ne’er loved. ‘Tis not the role I play in this farce. As for Her Majesty ... the common pony needs a warrior fighting upon the front lines, shedding blood and sharing in their privations. Not a distant queen whose royal arse rarely leaves her royal throne.”
Ere I could take issue with her barb, she suddenly and unexpectedly shifted topics. “Enough of politics. This is a celebration, and such talk bores me. Now, I have done thee a boon in the matter of the songs and tales, and would ask a boon in return.” She lightly brushed my chest. “Nothing too terribly pressing. I merely ask that thou watch o’er Midnight whilst I attend to a few matters. Certain dignitaries must be granted the honor of a dance with me, and after recent events it seems prudent to have somepony present to guard my daughter’s tongue.” She paused a moment, then chuckled. “Besides—if I leave her unsupervised, she will eat too much cake and then complain for half the night of a sore stomach.”
I chuckled as well, trying to imagine the dark and somber young child gorging ‘pon sweets much like any other young filly her age would. “Aye, I would be glad to watch o’er her.”
I found the child at the high table, in the midst of conversation with Commander Celestia. I was momentarily curious what the two could possibly be discussing, until I drew near enough to o’erhear them and learned that ‘twas the quality of the wedding cake. Midnight had already secured a rather large slice for herself in her mother’s absence.
I seated myself on Midnight’s opposite side, keeping the child ‘tween myself and the Commander. I pointedly glanced down at her plate. “I trust that will suffice. ‘Twould not do to o’erindulge and sour thy stomach.”
Midnight frowned skeptically down at the cake, seeming unconvinced that ‘twould sate her hunger. “I have been working very hard of late. Mother insists that I carry water to soldiers on the frontlines to show that I am doing my part to help with the war effort.” She crossed her forelegs o’er her chest, pouting. “I ne’er knew that water was so heavy ere I was assigned to carry it back and forth for hours at a time.” Her eyes fell upon the glass of water next to her plate, and she fixed it with baleful glare as if ‘twere to blame for all the ills she had suffered. Ultimately, she consoled herself by taking a large bite out of her cake. ‘Twas done in a most unsettling manner though, given she stretched her jaws wide to the point of strain and chomped down ‘pon the dessert with an audible clack.
The Commander favored the young filly with an indulgent smile. “I am sure the soldiers appreciate the water, Midnight. We are all playing our part in this.”
“Aye,” I was quick to add in hopes of further bolstering her spirits. “E'en the mightiest warriors cannot carry on without fresh water to sustain them.”
“I suppose,” Midnight allowed with a grimace, returning her attention to her dessert. “Though I prefer to sustain myself on cake.”
I chuckled at the child’s priorities. “One cannot fight a war on cake alone.”
“There has been no cake for a month now,” the filly grumbled between bites. “Not until today.”
“The war will come to an end soon enough,” I assured her, giving her a quick pat on the back to fortify her.
“But today is the last day there will be cake,” she countered. “Unless the war ends tomorrow, it is not soon enough.” She took several more bites, leaving little behind. She glowered down at the cake, as it were somehow betraying her by being consumed so quickly. She turned to me. “May I have another slice?”
“Neigh,” I answered at once. “Thy mother said thou couldst only have the one.”
She frowned at mine answer, then quickly scanned the area. “And where is my mother? Can you point her out for me? If she is not here, then do her edicts still have force? Mother has said in the past that what Her Majesty does not know cannot hurt her. I would think the same principle applies to her as well on the matter of cake.”
Though ‘twas amusing to see Sunbeam’s flexible sense of morality turned against her by her own child, I would not let the girl spoil her supper just for that. “She asked me to watch o'er thee, and specified that I was not to allow thee too many sweets. I would be a poor caretaker if I failed to do as she asked.”
“But I may not have another chance to eat cake for months and months!” she objected, pouting as any child denied their sweets will inevitably do.
For a moment I was tempted to allow it. Howe’er, I knew all too well that she would simply devour the second slice, then attempt to gain a third. “Neigh. One is enough.”
“Alas...” Her ears wilted, and she stared down at what remained of her cake, attempting to make herself seem as pitiful and ill-treated as possible. “Goodbye, sweet cake, I knew thee well as I sliced thee into pieces to sate my hunger. That which we call a cake by any other name wouldst taste as sweet! 'Tis better to have eaten and lost into the chamberpot than to have ne'er eaten at all...”
I was not fooled by her dramatics. They did amuse me, but I took appropriate care not to reveal that. “Thou wilt not starve, Midnight.”
“Not for another six months, at least.” She heaved out a put-upon sigh.
The Commander cleared her throat, drawing mine attention. “Shadow, have you seen Grandmaster Noble Quest? I wished to speak with him regarding the Order’s deployment—and of course, congratulate him on his son’s wedding.”
“Neigh, I have not.” I scanned the courtyard for the newly named Grandmaster. Though I quickly found him sitting next to the bride and groom, when I turned back to tell Celestia as much I discovered that in the few seconds I had taken mine eyes off of her Midnight had somehow obtained a fresh slice of cake, which she was endeavouring to consume as quickly as possible. “How didst thou—I only looked away for a moment!”
Celestia offered me a beatific smile. “How indeed?”
I glowered at the both of them. “I sense a conspiracy.”
“Why, Shadow!” Commander Celestia was the very image of wounded innocence. “What ever dost thou mean?”
My rejoinder vanished unspoken as Midnight’s fork clattered down onto her plate, her freshly purloined cake forgotten. The young filly gasped, and for a moment I feared that she was choking upon her food. Then she spoke, her voice thick with dread. “She is coming.”
Ere I could ask what she meant, there was a tremendous peal of thunder and a dazzling flash of light. When the light faded, Bright Charger stood in the middle of the dance floor. Only ... not her. Not anymore. Bright Charger had ne’er been an alicorn, nor did her mane have an aspect of the night sky.
The Avatar of Nightmare Moon had come to Canterlot.
One particularly bold guard bellowed out a challenge and charged her, attempting to drive his spear through her back. Howe’er, when the blow ought to have struck her his weapon and then the guard himself simply passed through her as if she were naught but mist. An illusion, then.
The Avatar gazed about the courtyard imperiously, chuckling as everypony who met her eyes quailed back. “Well well, I must say I am disappointed I did not receive an invitation. Thou didst not e’en set aside a slice of cake for me.” Her attention briefly fell upon the newlyweds. “I suppose I should offer my congratulations upon thy nuptials. Alas, I have no gift to offer thee. I am sure my sister provided something suitable; she always was better at selecting wedding gifts.” She paused in thought, then a malicious light entered her eyes. “Ah! I have it! For the duration of thy honeymoon, I shall not slay thee.”
The new husband and wife glared defiantly at the false goddess threatening them. Celestia rose from her throne, moving with surprising swiftness to place herself ‘tween the Avatar and the newly married couple. The Commander spoke, her voice ringing with a power and authority I had rarely heard from her. “Begone from this place, foul creature! Thou hast no power here! Thou art naught but lies and illusions!”
The abomination chuckled, smiling in a manner that revealed far too many teeth. “Oh is that so? Tell me then, dear sister, why is it that thy subjects are so fearful?” She pointed to a group of ponies, seemingly chosen at random. All of them flinched back, many hastily shifting position so that they would no longer be the focus of the Avatar’s attention. “Thou dost claim thou canst protect them, yet I do not think there is a one of them who feels safe right now.” The Avatar deliberately strode closer to Celestia, a cruel grin stretching her lips. “And this time, thou canst not banish me for a millennia.”
The Commander flinched at the mention of her sister’s exile. ‘Twas barely noticeable, but the Avatar did not miss it. Like a shark sensing blood in the water, she struck once more. “Ah, yes, mine exile. Didst thou know the moon is a terribly lonely place? So barren and cold. For the first few years I planned escape, thinking ‘twould only be a matter of patience and diligence ere I found a way to free myself. But as mine imprisonment dragged on the isolation wore at me, until soon whole months would pass where I could not cease sobbing from the sheer pain of it. Canst thou imagine such suffering? Pain so terrible that it cannot be borne for weeks on end? That is the existence thou hast condemned me to, dear sister .” The last words were spat out with the utmost contempt.
The Commander faltered, uncertainty entering her eyes as the Avatar spoke of her suffering. “N-neigh, foul creature. Thou art an abomination, not the sister I once knew and loved ere madness claimed her.”
“Madness?” The Avatar repeated incredulously. “Is that what thou wouldst call it? Aye, I suppose thou wouldst say ‘tis madness to not bend to thine every whim. For that is the truth of it, is it not? That I was punished so harshly because I, thine own sister, dared to question thee. Neigh, I think the true madness was thine. We were meant to rule together, but always thou didst believe that because thou wert the elder ‘twas thy right to place thyself above me. Thou didst claim the most beloved and acclaimed duties for thyself, whilst I ruled in the dark of the night, unappreciated.”
The abomination let out a cold, cruel laugh. “And for a pony who preaches the value of harmony, unity, and friendship, thou wert quick to ignore thine own flesh and blood when she was in distress, and punish her most harshly once she dared defy thee. Tell me, dear sister , why is it that I was trapped within the moon in utter isolation? Far fouler beasts than I remain within Tartarus, where they might at least speak to another living being. I think ‘twas that thou didst enjoy seeing me trapped upon the moon, the symbol of thy victory o’er me placed where all the world could see it every night. A constant reminder of thy supposed superiority.”
“N-no!” The Commander gasped out, recoiling from the beast that had once been Bright Charger. To my horror, I could see the beginnings of tears in her eyes. “Luna, please...”
I could remain still no longer. If the Avatar reduced Celestia to tears, ‘twould devastate the morale of the citizens of Canterlot. Indeed, that was likely the beast’s purpose here: to lay bare the Commander’s sorrow and pain, make her seem weak and incapable. I could not allow it.
I stepped ‘tween the two of them, my wings flaring both in challenge and to block all sight of the Commander’s face until she could compose herself. “Art thou naught but a yapping dog now, Bright Charger?” I challenged. “Reduced to impotent words where once you fought with valor and honor on the field of battle?”
Bright’s full attention shifted to me, her eyes narrowing in utter hatred as her teeth clenched in an almost feral snarl. “Shadow. So thou dost live indeed. Pity, I had thought that a lance through the chest would be enough to kill thee. But I suppose ‘tis a small price to pay for having the pleasure of killing thee twice. My daughter is yet unavenged...” A cruel light entered her eyes as she concluded, “but thy daughter now rests within my hooves.”
I offered no response beyond glaring at her, for any words would be too easily twisted against me. Bright held my gaze for several seconds, then shrugged. “So be it. I am a merciful queen, e’en to those who murdered my daughter in cold blood. I will not slay Gale as thou didst slay my precious Lance. The sins of the mother do not pass down to the child.”
She paused, but once more I did not dignify her remarks with any response. I could guess all too easily that her supposed kindness existed only to conceal the hidden barb she would soon unveil. She quickly proved me right. “Howe’er, Gale has committed crimes against the rightful ruler of Equestria, and has been a less than cooperative prisoner. She must face an appropriate punishment and penance for her misdeeds. I think ... fifty lashes, to begin with. ‘Twill be done before the southern gate in three hours time, so that all who yet defy me may witness the price of that defiance.” She smirked, revealing that a few of her teeth had elongated into fangs. “I will be there to personally o’ersee her chastisement. Shouldst thou care to meet me and settle our unfinished business, I would welcome it.”
Having said all that she cared to, the Avatar vanished as the mist binding her image together dispersed into nothingness. A deathly pall of silence hung o’er the wedding reception, the festive mood now entirely shattered.
Mine eyes sought out the nearest of my clanmates. “Muster all our warriors. If our full strength is not at the Southern Gate in two hours’ time, those who are absent would be wise to ne’er cross my sight again.”
Sunbeam forced her way through the crowd and to my side. “Think, Shadow!” She hissed beneath her breath. “‘Tis an obvious trap intended to draw thee out into an ambush!”
I met the Archmagus’ gaze levelly. “I am quite aware of that, Sunbeam. I must simply find a way to beat it. I will not stand back and watch helplessly as that creature tortures my daughter.”
Sunbeam grasped my collarbone, pulling my head nearer to hers. “Throwing thy life away will not make her any safer!”
“I am hardly offering myself up for sacrifice,” I growled back. “But I will be on the field to meet her ere a whip touches Gale’s back. Wouldst thou do any less if ‘twere thy child in her hooves?”
For once, Sunbeam could not argue against me.
Author's Note
As always, thanks to my pre-reading and editing team for all their hard work. Also, I would like to thank all my dedicated Patreon supporters. You guys are awesome.
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FallenAngelXy
Ascendant Shadows Interlude 1
As had become my habit in recent days, I spent mine afternoon attempting to hammer some basic level of training into our earth pony recruits. Swift might see them as disposable fodder to be used to weaken and overwhelm enemy lines until he could find an opening for our pegasi, but as with many things, I did not agree with his assessment. If a few hours of my time could help our militia conscripts live to fight another day, then it was a worthwhile sacrifice.
I was quite surprised when I saw Sierra rushing towards us at a full gallop—we were supposed to have a truce for the day, so I could not imagine anything urgent had come up. However, judging by the speed of her approach something had gone awry. I quickly moved to meet her halfway—in all likelihood, her news was not something I wanted the entire militia to overhear. “What is it?”
She took a moment to catch her breath, her chest heaving in a way I might have found most delightful under better circumstances. “D-Dusk! Swift ... took Gale.”
“He did what?! ” I leaned closer, gripping her shoulders. “Tell me everything that happened. Quickly.”
Sierra nodded, taking a few quick, deep breaths to steady herself. “Swift sent your brother to your tent, along with a dozen of his warriors. The guards you left there couldn’t refuse him, especially since he had written orders from the Avatar as well. I don’t know what Swift has in mind for Gale, but...”
“It cannot be anything good,” I finished the thought. The simple fact that he had taken Gale from my quarters while I was away proved that much—the only reason to steal her away in such a manner was if he knew I would oppose his schemes given the chance. Anything he was so certain I would try to prevent was almost certainly worth stopping.
The two of us rushed to the command tent, but found it empty aside from a few aides. Thankfully, one of them knew the Avatar and the others had gone to the front lines. And that they had brought Gale with them. That boded ill.
In truth, I had hoped to keep Gale far away from the Avatar’s notice. Though I still did not know to what degree the Avatar was my mother rather than Luna, ‘twas plain enough that Lance’s death was still a fresh pain for her. With the rumors that Shadow had not perished in battle, I could not imagine any good reason that the Avatar would have taken her daughter to a place where Shadow would be able to see her. If she meant to murder Gale before Shadow’s eyes in some mad attempt to avenge my sister...
Lance. In truth, I had not e’en been able to truly mourn her passing. There had simply been no time for it when every day it seemed that we stood upon the brink of a new crisis. It would be a poor service to her legacy if I neglected the cause she gave her life for in order to stride through the camp wailing and gnashing my teeth. Especially while villains like Swift abused her name to justify casting aside all that she believed in.
I would not allow it to stand. “Sierra, I need you to assemble as many loyal ponies as you can manage on short notice. Meet me at the frontlines, wherever Swift and the Avatar are.” If I knew the Blade ephor half as well as I thought I did, he would not be hard to find.
Sierra hesitated, frowning as her eyes flicked across the rest of the camp. “Dusk, you cannot intend to start a fight against an Ephor and your own mother for the sake of one prisoner. We must pick our battles if we hope to lessen Swift’s influence.”
“I do not plan on fighting Swift Blade,” I answered with a dry smile as I turned to leave the tent, Sierra falling into step beside me. “I intend to reason with him. I simply think he will be much more amenable to reason if I have a dozen good lances backing me up while we have our friendly discussion.”
Sierra sighed, reluctantly nodding. “I have to agree. And the fact that I agree with that troubles me all the more. What has the world come to when we cannot meet with the leaders of our own army without an armed escort to ensure our safety?”
“With any luck, it will be nothing but pageantry.”
Sierra fixed me with a piercing gaze. “And if we are unlucky? Dusk, surely you realize that Swift is just waiting for an excuse to move against you. We are trying to preserve whatever decency is left within Pegasopolis. Starting a fight with him over Gale is a fool’s errand that will undo all that we have worked for. The army will not support you against Swift merely because you are infatuated with Shadow’s daughter.”
“‘Tis hardly an infatuation,” I groused, “She is fine to look upon, but so are many other mares. And e’en with the current tensions, the captain of the hetairoi has no shortage of comely mares who would enjoy the honor of his company.” Not that I was interested in most of them: I would not want to bed a mare who found my title more interesting than the stallion who carried it.
“Call it what you will, ‘tis still something Swift will try to use against you,” Sierra counseled. “Especially if you stand against him in any matter regarding Gale. Choose your words carefully, for he will try to twist anything you say to his advantage.”
“I never doubted that he would.” I considered mine options for a moment, then shrugged. “I doubted his forked tongue will impress many among the warriors’ ranks. And if he goes too far I can always strike him again and demand juris .”
Sierra sighed and shook her head. “He will have something prepared for that. He might be a fool with only low cunning to distinguish him, but he never forgets a slight. I assure you, he will have some unpleasant surprise prepared for you. Perhaps naming your brother as his champion to force a kinslaying upon you, or he might have convinced his warlocks to stand for him in battle.”
“If he has devised new tactics, then I shall adapt as well.” I shrugged, waving away her words. “That is the way of it, neigh? Moves and counter-moves.”
“Mayhaps.” Sierra agreed reluctantly. “But 'tis also the way of tactics to choose one's battles with care and avoid an unwinnable confrontation.”
“I quite agree.” I turned to her, wearing a confident smirk. “Which is why I fully intend to win this coming battle.” Sierra answered my wit with a flat, unamused look. I sighed and gently placed a hoof on her shoulder. “Sierra, whatever Swift has planned, its implications will reach far beyond Gale herself. If he intends to sacrifice her for more blood magic, do you think we can afford to let him act? What will become of our cause if we allow more executions of prisoners to fuel dark magics?”
Her ears fell. “Not to mention that the enemy will likely retaliate against Ephor Rightly if we continue murdering our own captives.” She closed her eyes, letting out a long, slow breath. “Howe’er, much as I mislike the situation, sacrificing yourself in Gale’s stead will do little to deter Swift in the future.”
“I agree, that would be a terrible plan.” My wingmare blinked in surprise and halted in mid-step, and I continued the thought with a grin. “I have no intention of making a martyr of myself. After all, I can hardly look upon Gale’s fine buttocks if I am dead.” Sierra rolled her eyes and one of her wings halfheartedly swatted out at me. I chuckled and dodged it. “Do not worry so much, Sierra. I am not entering into this blindly.”
Sierra answered me with a weak grin. “I hope not. We have limited time, aye, but it sounds as though you are relying on little more than luck.”
I shrugged, conceding the point. “I admit there will be an element of that to our plan. I do have a few ideas of how we will proceed, but we simply do not have enough information to formulate more than a very basic plan. I will have to improvise the rest of it once I learn what new madness he is plotting. Now, will you meet me there with the soldiers or not?”
“Of course I will,” she assured me. “You might be mad, but you are still my captain and friend.” She grinned at me, though the expression faded quickly. “And e'en if you were not, Swift's atrocities must be stopped.”
I nodded grimly. “Aye. So let us get to the task of stopping him.”
I did not know what I had expected to find upon arriving at the front lines, but the atrocity Swift intended managed to shock and horrify me. He had put our engineers to clearing out an area near the gates to the loyalists’ central redoubt, out of range from any attacks but within clear view of those standing upon the walls. A small honor guard of his clan’s soldiers stood between himself and the enemy gates, though carefully positioned so they would not block anypony’s view. More of his forces lingered in the side tunnels, lying in ambush. However, Swift’s soldiers were not what occupied mine attention.
Gale herself stood in the middle of the clearing, bound and displayed like a trophy. What truly aroused mine ire was not the chains binding her legs and wings, but rather the object Swift had positioned her next to: a whipping post. A quick search of the nearby soldiers revealed one of Swift’s retainers bearing a whip as well.
With a wordless snarl, I stormed up to the Ephor. “What is the meaning of this?” I angrily waved towards Gale and the post. “Stealing my prisoner from my tent like a thief in the night! And dare I ask what madness you intend to inflict upon her?”
Swift, whom I was somewhat pleased to note was only confronting me after two very large clanmates took his back, turned upon me with an unctuous grin. “Oh, I hardly intended to steal her, and in any case she is not your prisoner. She is the army’s; you merely hold her. The Avatar required her presence. You were not in your tent, and it could have taken hours to find you. I trust you know how hard it can be to find one pony from among tens of thousands.” His grin turned poisonously polite. “I took the liberty of retrieving her, and I knew that thou surely wouldst not wish to keep our Commander waiting.”
I glared at the Ephor, barely restraining my choler enough to retain at least the appearance of civility. “And might I know why my mother needs Gale?”
Swift shrugged carelessly. “Considering thou dost insist upon naming her thy prisoner, I suppose there is no issue with thee knowing that she is to be used as bait for her mother.”
“Bait?” I repeated incredulously as I grasped the true foulness of Swift’s scheme. “You intend to torture her to draw Shadow out.”
“I doubt it will go that far,” Swiftly falsely reassured me. “Shadow has already been issued the threat of her daughter's punishment for treason, and I do not see her doing nothing while her daughter is flogged. She will only be hurt if Shadow forces us to act.”
“If she forces you?” I snarled, taking a challenging step forward that caused both of Swift’s guardians to tense. “Neigh, she will not force you, ‘twill be your choice to make. And make it you shall, for I do not think Shadow foolish enough to fall into such an obvious trap.”
Swift chuckled and shook his head. “Thou dost believe Shadow would allow her daughter to be flogged? Even knowing there is a trap? Come now, we both know what type of mare she is.” The smile he gave me dripped condescension. “Or at least, I do. One would have thought your time fostered to her clan would have given you some measure of her as well. If we do have to give Gale a few lashings to draw her mother out, she is strong enough that she should survive them. And if she does nothing while her daughter suffers, it will make Shadow appear weak, heartless, or both. I consider that an acceptable outcome.”
I stared at him for several long moments, trying to grasp how he could speak so casually of performing such monstrous acts. “You truly see nothing wrong with torturing her just to draw Shadow out? Have you no sense of decency?”
The Avatar, who up to this point had seemed content to ignore our discussion as she kept her eyes fixed upon the gates, spared us a brief glance o’er her shoulder at us. “Shadow murdered my daughter. Compared to that, a few stripes on Gale's back is nothing.”
Swift quickly followed the Avatar’s argument. “And 'tis one evil act to save the lives of many thousands. Thou wert one of the ponies who asked us to seek options that would lessen casualties, neigh? Well this is one. I would think thou wouldst be pleased.”
I snarled, shaking my head. “This ... neigh. This is not acceptable. For all your talk of saving lives, the acts you would perform there are dishonorable and cowardly. Not that I expected anything better from you.”
Swift scowled, and his two guardians took a threatening step forward. “Mind thy tongue, Dusk. Such insults could drive me to seek satisfaction from thee. Fortunately, I am gracious enough to allow thy rash words to pass unpunished. This time.” He waved his soldiers off, a smug grin fixed upon his face. “As for Gale, ‘tis a tactic that will help end this war. Probably with little bloodshed, for the Royalists cannot hope to stand without Shadow to lead them.”
“They endured her month-long convalescence well enough,” I countered. “And think upon what effect these actions will have on our own forces.”
Swift waved a hoof as though brushing aside a bothersome insect. “Far fewer of them will die in a cunning ambush than if we threw them against the enemy’s defenses.”
“If any of them remain.” I turned mine attention to the soldiers surrounding the area. Though they were Swift’s own clanmates, I saw more than one set of eyes lingering on Gale and the whipping post. I knew well the signs of soldiers who had resigned themselves to carrying out an unpleasant duty: slumped shoulders and shuffling hooves, and soldiers moving with the slackness of apathy. I turned back to Swift, feeling more confident in the rightness of my cause now that I had seen the private doubts of his own clan. “Unlike you, not all here have forgotten honor. What will good ponies think when they see you torturing a child in front of her mother to gain a tactical advantage? And what happens if Shadow does not come out? Will you make a blood sacrifice of Gale too?”
Swift scoffed. “Sacrificing the Archmagi was necessary to preserve the life of your mother, and to give us a valuable ally.”
I glared at him. “And is this also necessary?”
“It is,” he answered simply. “If thou hast such strong objections to my chosen tactics, then by all means, make your own proposition. I would welcome a better means of winning this war and ensuring the Avatar’s triumph. So tell me, Dusk Charger, what course of action wouldst thou propose? Assaulting the walls, only this time with our best warriors? How many would die to the magi's spells with a frontal assault? Or do you suggest we content ourselves with starving the unicorns out, letting our forces suffer countless months of continued hardship? What happens when the time comes for the harvest, and Equestria’s farmers are still on the frontlines?”
“What I propose,” I snarled out, “Is that we do not sully our names and blacken the reputation of our cause with further atrocities. Have you forgotten that this was a war of honor and decency?”
“This war is aimed at removing the tyrant Celestia,” Swift countered mildly. “Or hast thou forgotten? Certain sacrifices must be made in order to secure the freedom of all Ponykind from the evils of the Sun Tyrant. Tell me, why is it more noble to send a thousand soldiers to die in pointless assaults than to whip a single mare?”
“You speak of removing a tyrant,” I waved towards the enemy fortification, “then use that to justify your own acts of tyranny. Tell me, if we sacrifice all decency, what makes us better than the tyrant we aim to remove?”
Swift sighed loudly, rolling his eyes in exasperation. “We hardly need to use such tactics once the peace has been won, and our liberties preserved. The cruel necessities of war will naturally end alongside the war itself.”
I heard a brief tumult on the perimeter, and a quick glance to the side confirmed that Sierra was approaching with a company of hetairoi and loyal ponies. Their arrival heartened and emboldened me. “You think our actions today will be forgotten once the war is over? All those who suffer because of your ‘cruel necessities of war’ will remember the evils you wrought, e’en after peace is declared. History will judge what you do this day.”
“Yes.” Swift drew himself up, standing as tall and proud as he could. “It will remember me as the one who had the strength of will and character needed to make the difficult decisions required to win this war quickly and decisively.”
“It will remember you as a villain and fool in equal measure,” I snarled. Attempting further reasoning with him was plainly an exercise in futility, so I turned to the only one who could gainsay him: the Avatar. My mother. I was no longer certain which term applied. “You cannot truly approve of this!”
The Avatar glanced back towards me once more. “I did.”
Swift nodded, a triumphant smirk on his face. “Like myself, the Commander knows that wars cannot be won without making sacrifices. You say history will judge us? So be it! Let the scholars of the future debate mine acts: I will rest easy tonight knowing that whate’er might be said of it, mine actions on this day saved lives and ensured the freedom of Equestria.”
It took all my discipline not to do something unwise to the Ephor. Hearing the delusional madness pouring from his lips shook me to the core. “This is no hard choice. You merely think yourself clever and strong-willed for possessing low cunning and a lack of moral compunctions.” Once more I turned my back on him, appealing to my Mother instead. After a moment’s hesitation, I used the strongest argument I could think of. “Lance would never have approved of this.”
The Avatar stiffened at my words, her face becoming an unreadable mask. When she did not immediately answer, Swift continued blathering. “Perhaps not, but she is dead—slain by the pony we now try to ensnare with our trap. This is our chance to avenge her murder.”
“Avenge her?” I snarled, barely restraining the urge to lash out at him. “You defile her memory by using her name to justify this! Just as you betray the memory of all those who have already given their lives by sullying the cause they died for.” One last time, I appealed to the Avatar. “What would Lance want of you? Do you truly believe she would approve of doing this to avenge her death?”
The Avatar turned to face me fully, yet her silence lingered for so long that I was on the verge of repeating my question when she finally spoke. “Let her go.”
The warlock Hidden Facts, who had thus far seemed content to ignore the debate, stepped forward. “Honored Avatar of Luna, surely I misunderstood you. I am quite certain that what you meant to say is—”
The Avatar turned upon him, and for a moment I was heartened to see the familiar fire return to my mother’s eyes. “I said precisely what I meant to. Release her back to Dusk, and take down that ridiculous whipping post. I hardly need such preposterous schemes to draw her mother into battle. Shadow will show herself on the field soon enough; she must if she is to lead the enemy army. When she does, I will strike her down fairly and honorably, as my daughter would have wanted. Let the world see that our cause is right, and justice is on our side.”
Swift blinked in shock, clearly taken aback by my mother’s words. “B-but the plan!”
“I am changing the plan.” She drew herself to her full height, towering over Swift. “You are my second in command. I am sure you are capable of coming up with a new plan, and hopefully a better one than this.” Her horn lit up, and Gale’s bindings came undone.
Swift clenched his teeth so hard I could easily hear them grinding, but he had no recourse. “Aye, of course, Commander.” He spared a hateful glare for me before adding. “I am sure I can come up with something. Something very noble and honorable to turn the tide.”
The warlock proved far more diplomatic in his acceptance. “But of course, honored Avatar. It shall be as you command.”
“Naturally.” She turned her attention fully to me. Despite her altered appearance, in that moment I fancied that I truly saw my mother once more. “Dusk, my thanks to thee for thy wise counsel. I will see to it that when next we move against the enemy, thou shalt have a place of honor on the battlefield. Thou hast surely earned it.”
“I ... thank you, Mother.”
She smiled, then placed a hoof on my shoulder. “Thou shouldst return to the habit of calling me that more often,” she gently chided. “E’er since mine apotheosis, thou hast called me Avatar far more often than Mother. I prefer the latter title more, my son.” Her eyes turned to Gale. “Go to her. Once I have slain Shadow, she will be the leader of the Kickers. If thou canst win her loyalty, we might be able to sunder the clan from my sister’s side.”
Mine answer died in my throat when I heard her name Celestia her sister once more. ‘Twas an all too potent reminder that whate’er her words, the being before me was not wholly my mother. Not anymore. In truth, I did not e’en know who or what she was.
I turned my mind from the matter and stepped o’er to Gale’s side. “Art thou well? I pray Swift’s minions did thee no harm.”
“Nothing significant.” She stretched her wings, rubbing them where the ropes had held her. “Though I am not certain I would say I am truly well. I suppose I am as well as could be hoped after barely escaping a flogging for the mere crime of being my mother’s daughter.” Her eyes turned to me, and there was a curious hesitation in her next words. “It would seem that I am indebted to you. If not for your actions...”
To my surprise, I found myself blushing slightly. “I merely did what any decent pony ought to do under the circumstances.” I took a moment to rally mine usual confidence around mares, then grinned. “Though I suppose if the fair maiden cared to reward her hero with a kiss...”
Gale rolled her eyes. “Surely thou couldst ask for something more reasonable. Perhaps my severed wings? My firstborn?”
I smirked. “I will note that for all thy complaints, thou didst not refuse my request.”
Gale groaned, yet took a step nearer. “Oh very well, if ‘twill discharge the debt...” She leaned forward, and her lips brushed my cheek for the briefest of moments. “There. ‘Tis settled. And do not think ‘twill e’er happen again. If thou wouldst have another kiss of me, then thou must perform another service of equal weight.”
While the kiss had been all too brief, I was still grinning like a fool at the memory of her lips on my skin. “So, thou art saying that thou wouldst consider kissing me again under the proper circumstances?”
I had expected a cutting remark from her, but instead her gaze shifted towards Swift and Hidden, who were in midst of a hushed conversation. “Mayhaps I will, though only if ‘tis thy dying request. Surely thou dost see the vile duo conspiring over there. The Avatar already ordered Swift to make a new plan, and Hidden is a warlock and no doubt the most blackhearted of plotters, given his betrayal of Celestia. And do not forget that you also humiliated Swift in front of his own clan. I doubt all of this means good things for your future. I would suggest finding a way to kill them, and quickly. For I assure you, they are plotting your death e’en as we speak.”
I turned mine own gaze towards the conspirators and grimly agreed with Gale’s assessment. I doubted Swift would allow me to continue undermining his power base without some form of retaliation. I tried to distract myself from the unpleasant reality before me with another jest. “I think I will need another kiss for good luck.”
Much to my surprise, Gale gently cupped my cheeks in her hooves and pressed her lips against mine. I confess, had she not caught me so utterly by surprise, I would have enjoyed the kiss far more than I did. She held my lips for several long moments before slowly breaking it. “That was only because you will need a great deal of luck to survive all the troubles your own idiocy has brought down upon you.” She smirked, slowly turning her back on me. “Try to avoid dying. My lack of disgust for you has almost reached the point where I can tolerate your presence.”
Despite still being quite shocked by the unexpected kiss, I managed to squeak out an answer. “I—I will do my best.”
I stared after her for several seconds, until Sierra strode up to my side, chuckling. “That mare is going to be the death of you, Dusk.”
“Aye,” I agreed, mine eyes affixed to Gale’s swaying rump. “But what a death it will be...”
I remained awake long into the night, poring over our half-finished map and thinking upon how I might deploy my forces in the coming battle. While the Avatar had charged Swift with devising the battle plan, I had no intention of blindly following any plan he wrote. I was quite certain that his battle plan would involve placing me in as much peril as he could without arousing undue suspicion. Since I had no intention of dying, I needed a plan of mine own.
With Gale already resting on her sleeping palette, I had the tent to myself and was quite absorbed in my work. So absorbed, in fact, that I failed to hear somepony entering in my tent until he spoke. “Can you spare a moment, Captain?”
I managed not to jump in surprise, but only barely. Especially when I realized that mine unexpected visitor was the warlock Hidden Facts. I set down my quill and turned to face him, affecting an air of casual calm. “Mayhaps ‘tis different for unicorns, but amongst the pegasi 'tis considered rude to enter a tent without requesting permission first.”
The warlock glanced back at the entrance, then shrugged. “Alas, 'tis rather difficult to knock upon a cloth tent. Though I thought that my request for entrance implied when I asked if you could spare a moment. Since it seems you can...” He stepped fully inside. “Good evening to you. Much as I enjoy our current discussion, I did not come here to debate a point of courtesy. I apologize if any offense was given; ‘twas not mine intention.”
I sighed and nodded, setting aside my work. I could hardly draw up plans to escape whatever trap Swift Blade intended for me while one of his closest allies was in my tent. I reluctantly gestured for the warlock to make himself comfortable, though with a pointed look towards Gale so that he would not disturb her. Unless I missed my guess, she was almost certainly only feigning sleep after the warlock’s arrival, but ‘twould make a good excuse to cut the discussion short. “Very well then. What did you wish to discuss?”
“Ah, straight to business then.” Facts grinned, the low candlelight within the tent causing his smile to resemble the rictus of a skull. “To begin, I thought you would like to know that Swift intends to murder you in the coming battle.” He paused a moment, then amended. “Or rather, not so much murder as place you in a position where the enemy will almost certainly end your life for him. ‘Twould be simple enough to withdraw his forces and leave your flank exposed at a key moment, or some other gambit when the opportunity presents itself.”
Though the news was hardly a surprise given the enmity ‘tween us, having it confirmed still drew mine ire. “He would act so boldly?”
“Swift is quite bold whene’er he thinks the odds are stacked in his favor,” Hidden answered with an uncaring shrug, glancing about my tent with idle curiosity. After several moments, he drew a bottle out from beneath his robes. “Might I offer you something to drink? It’s a lovely vintage; I took it from Polaris’s personal stores. He might have been a pompous fool, but he had excellent taste in wine.”
“My thanks for the offer, but it is a bit late to indulge.” And of course, I was not about to accept a drink from a known turncoat aligned with mine enemies.
“A pity.” Hidden opened the bottle and poured himself a glass. “Perhaps when we execute Polaris, I should turn his skull into a goblet. There is something wonderfully poetic about drinking his wine from his skull.” He sipped his drink. “But back to the matter at hoof. It would be all too easy to blame leaving you in an exposed position on the chaos of the battlefield. Ponies would suspect he acted against you, but Swift believes that so long as there is no proof he has nothing to fear from whispered rumors. And you certainly have earned his ire.”
“Truly? I thought we were well on the path to becoming close friends.” A pity Gale was facing the other direction when I spoke—the smirk on her face would undoubtedly do away with her preposterous charade.
The warlock chuckled, topping off his glass. “But of course you are. We are all friends united by our common cause. Which is why I thought it best to warn you.”
“So you warned me in the spirit of friendship?” I asked, making no effort to conceal my skepticism. The warning was largely superfluous, for I had already suspected he would move against me in some way. More intriguing was why the warlock had come to my tent in the dead of the night to deliver his message.
“I did.” He took a seat, a faint frown playing across his lips. “If we might speak in confidence, I confess that I am growing ... less than wholly satisfied with mine arrangement with Swift Blade. Not only that, but the Avatar is certainly less fond of him now than she was previously, while you stand high in her favor.”
“I am her son,” I answered neutrally. “Though I am curious—I thought you and Swift were working quite closely with one another?”
“Oh, he has no cause to think I am anything less than his most trusted friend.” The warlock’s answer only made me all the warier of him, considering his choice of words. The miniscule, hastily-concealed glint in his eyes did not help matters either. “However, it seems prudent to have more than one friend in this camp. We will have a much easier time of this war if we work together.”
I could read his intentions easily enough. “So you think that your current friend is about to fall from favor then, and seek to ally with somepony who will be in the Avatar's good graces once he is out of power?” I was tempted to scoff—and were it not for the fact I did not know the full extent of his powers, I would have. “It seems your friendship is a matter of politics and convenience.”
“I have found that most friendships are.” He paused, then amended. “A measure of mutual self-interest also helps with such things. Regardless, I think Swift’s defeat is a likely enough possibility that it is sensible to approach you. I wish to be on good terms with the army’s leader, regardless of who that is. I would certainly be a valuable ally, I assure you. Magic is a precious resource, and all the best mages in this army answer to me.”
“If you think a few magical trinkets will buy my loyalty, you are mistaken.” I certainly saw no reason to align myself with Hidden Facts. The warlock had already betrayed Celestia and now aimed to betray Swift as well. That alone made it quite clear how long any arrangement with him would last. “So you want to retain your position in the army if Swift falls? Tell me then, what do you plan on doing with your influence? From what I have heard, magi do not tend to just gain power for its own sake.” Though such behavior was more typical of warlocks.
“Not political power, certainly,” he agreed. “Mages who lust for power prefer to focus on the magical arts rather than other pursuits. As for mine intentions, I would continue to do much as I have thus far: drive forward the war effort in a sensible direction to ensure our ultimate victory.”
“But of course.” I fixed him with a piercing gaze. “And after the war?”
“After the war? Hmm...” He tapped his glass against his chin, deep in thought. “I admit that I am somewhat tempted to follow Sunbeam's example. The positions of archmagus and grand vizier would both suit me, though merely one or the other would suffice. You can be Luna’s warmaster or whatever other post you desire. I am sure she will be most grateful for those who restore her to her rightful throne.”
I cared little for the idea of placing Luna or any other pony upon a throne, but thought it best to continue playing along for the moment. If nothing else, it might prompt Hidden to reveal something of himself. “And what would you do as grand vizier and archmagus?”
Hidden smiled, his countenance once more reminding me of a grinning skull. “Why, I would reform Equestria into a fair and just society under Luna's rule. Starting, of course, with removing some outdated restrictions that are needlessly holding back the progress of magical research.”
“You would legalize black magic.” I sighed and shook my head. “Small surprise, coming from a self-declared warlock.”
Hidden let out a soft, humorless chuckle. “Ah yes, black magic. Warlock. Useful labels, are they not? Tell me, Dusk, what do you know of the forbidden arts?”
“I have had no reason to study them,” I answered neutrally. “As you no doubt noticed, I cannot use magic, black or otherwise.”
“Quite so.” Hidden drained his wineglass. “And yet, you still believe that the forbidden arts are evil and ought to be opposed. Curious, that you are so certain a thing you know nothing about is wicked, isn’t it?” He set his empty glass to the side, his motions somewhat more animated than his previous casual ease. I suspected this was a favorite topic of his. “Who decides what types of magic is dark and forbidden, and what is acceptable? The Queen? The Archmagi? Surely you have seen how fallible both of them are.”
“Perhaps,” I allowed, “but surely you must acknowledge that there are some spells which have no legitimate use.”
To my surprise, he nodded. “But of course. Where I differ from many of my former associates within the magi is on where that line should be drawn. Nopony wants mad necromancers raising armies of the undead to spread chaos and misery across the land, or mindbenders turning entire towns into puppets. However, I do not allow my fear of those risks to blind me to the numerous legitimate uses that currently forbidden spells could offer.” He waved a hoof towards the back of the cave, where we had established a supply dump. “Do you know how many earth ponies we must employ every day to keep our forces supplied? Every single soldier in our army needs at least two pounds of fresh food every day—and ideally more beyond that. All that food must be hauled from hundreds of miles away, each wagon requiring around a week to make the trip from our siege camp to our supply depots. Not to mention travel time from individual farms to our granaries. And of course, all this travel time is limited by the physical capabilities of ponies. They require rest, sleep, food, and other considerations for the weaknesses of the flesh.”
His horn lit up, conjuring an illusionary wagon being hauled by a pair of skeletal ponies. “Now, imagine if we had undead carrying our supplies instead. They never tire, so they could move at a run all day without slowing. They require no sleep, and so could carry on straight through the night. No stopping for food, water, or to relieve themselves. We would only need a quarter of the wagons we use now, because our supplies would arrive far more swiftly.” He waved grandly, encompassing the entire camp. “And that is but one example in one field of study. I do not deny that some magic is dangerous, but the current regime has let fear blind them to so many useful possibilities. We could reshape Equestria into a new, better, wealthier, and happier realm if we only dared to act.” He stood, drawing himself up to his full height. “And so, I shall dare to go where others fear to tread.”
I remained silent for some time, uncertain of how to answer his brief speech. It sounded like a rehearsed justification he gave to others who questioned his means and goals—though for all I knew it may well have been what he told himself when he began his dark pursuits. Though I lacked the magical expertise to counter his points, I suspected that he was downplaying the dangers of his work far too much. If necromancy and other black magic could be used safely and harmlessly, one would think it would have happened at some point. ‘Twas also likely far more complicated than Hidden made it sound. Such matters always were.
Hidden cleared his throat, then poured himself another glass of wine. “Ah, forgive me for rambling on. I confess it is a topic for which I have a great deal of enthusiasm. Let us return to the matter that brought me here. Do we have an accord?”
I saw no reason to reject him outright. Not that I cared for the idea of aligning myself with a warlock, but anything I could do to undermine Swift Blade and divide mine enemies was worth pursuing. “I will consider it, on one condition.” He lifted a single eyebrow and motioned for me to proceed. “I want to know exactly what you did to my mother.”
Hidden smiled and nodded. “Ah, of course. To spare you a very long and complicated explanation, I think it would suffice to say that we both preserved her life and linked her spirit to Luna. The transformation that followed is a result of her being linked to Luna’s mind, spirit, and power. Yet she is also still your mother.”
I hesitantly nodded and to my surprise confided some of mine own observations. “I have noticed moments of ... confusion within her. Like there are two different personalities. In one breath she names Lance as her daughter, and in the next speaks of Celestia as her sister. I do not know whether Luna and my mother share control of the body at all times, or if one holds it while the other fades into the background.”
Hidden nodded along with my words. “Since we are being honest, I will admit that I am not entirely certain myself. The spell should have left your mother in command of her body, with merely a link to Luna. However, I obviously have never made an Avatar of Luna before, and there is often a difference between how a spell would function in theory and how it works when cast. Once times are quieter, I would enjoy a chance to study the Avatar more closely.” He fell silent for a moment, then shrugged. “In any case, I would presume that once we succeed in freeing Luna from her imprisonment, your mother would resume much of her old form. Luna will need no avatar once she walks the world once more.”
That much was heartening to know. That once we had won the war my mother would return to being the mare I knew. Howe’er, his answer was so hopeful I quickly grew suspicious of it. A practitioner of dark magic and turncoat would have no compunctions against lying to me in order to secure my loyalty. And what better way to ensure I worked alongside him than the dangle the promise of restoring my mother before mine eyes?
Regardless, I saw no reason not to play out the remainder of this farce. If nothing else, ‘twas in mine interest to encourage any rift ‘tween Swift and Hidden. And e’en if I had no desire to use his forbidden magics to my benefit, there were other possibilities opened by improved relations with him. After all, his cultists should be wholly capable of managing less morally questionable forms of magic. I cleared my throat. “In the spirit of our new understanding, Hidden, might I ask a boon of your mages?”
The warlock grinned, eagerly leaning forward. “But of course! How can I be of assistance?”
I answered his grin with one of mine own. “Fire gems. As many as your cult can make.”
Author's Note
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Aidan Hall
The appointed time for the Avatar to torture my daughter came and went without a trace of either of them. I remained at the southern gate, waiting for any sign of what had happened to my child. I lingered there for long enough that the hours began to blend together.
The view from the gate was hardly remarkable. In truth, I saw little more than a large, dark, empty cavern. Our engineers had cleared as large of a killing field as they could manage without risking a collapse, but clearing the terrain removed only one obstacle. In the caves beneath Canterlot, the only light that existed was what ponies brought with them. While a few unmined veins of gemstones reflected the powerful lights on our fortifications, it was still difficult to see much further than a hundred paces. Especially since the rebels constantly sought to douse or obscure our lights so that they might move in secret.
And yet, I watched the darkness, waiting for any sign of the enemy. I would not leave my post until I knew my daughter’s fate. Had the Avatar opted to privately torment my child instead of making a public spectacle of it? Had she devised some torture so cruel she dared not let it see the light of day? Had my child been sacrificed, as Copper had been, in order to fuel some foul ritual of dark magic? Or had some shred of Bright Charger’s honor survived within the abomination that wore her flesh?
I did not know. Until I did, there would be no peace in my heart.
A gently cleared throat drew mine attention, and I glanced back at Sergeant Stalwart. “Honored Shadow—” I glowered at the unwanted appellation, and he wisely corrected himself. “Materfamilias , it has been a full day since the Avatar’s ultimatum. You have taken neither rest nor food in that time.”
“I am aware,” I rumbled tersely. “Is there any news of my child?”
The sergeant mutely shook his head. “Nothing new. They had set up a post at the far end of the cavern, there was discussion, then they took it down. We have seen nothing of the Avatar or Gale since.” He took a deep breath, then offered me a small package. “I took the liberty of securing a few of the sandwiches from the wedding feast yesterday. Last I checked, they are still quite edible.”
“I am not hungry,” I grunted through clenched teeth.
“Perhaps a bowl of soup then?” he suggested. “The caverns can be cool, and I find that having something warm to hold in my hooves is heartening.”
“I am not hungry,” I maintained, my teeth beginning to grind.
“At least take some water,” he stubbornly insisted.
“It is not water that I require!” I snapped at the well-meaning stallion. “My daughter is in the hands of an abomination birthed from dark magic. A monster that threatened to torture her to force my compliance with her demands. I have no idea as to her safety, or even if she still lives! Dost thou truly believe that a glass of water will improve my condition?”
The sergeant weathered my choler with admirable restraint, his face the very image of polite deference until I had finished venting my spleen. When he responded, his words were firm despite the deference within them. “Milady, I do not see how drinking water could possibly make the situation any worse than it is already.”
“So be it.” ‘Twas plain enough that if I refused water, he would simply make another offer, and continue doing so until I gave in. Better to accept now, so that he would leave me in peace. “Water, then. And a sandwich.”
“An excellent choice, milady.” He passed over the sandwich, then raised his voice. “Water-filly! O’er here!”
A few seconds later, there was a loud thump on the stairs, accompanied by a great deal of grumbling. After several more such thumps, I spotted young Midnight slowly ascending towards us, laden with so many water canteens that I could barely see the filly herself. ‘Twould seem that Sunbeam had made good on her threat to put Midnight to work.
The burdened child slowly made her way to us, then removed one of the many canteens festooning her. Bitter resentment laced her words, as though the world had done her some terrible wrong. “Does anypony here require water?”
“Aye, I do.” I extended a hoof to take the canteen.
She slowly trudged over to me, grunting with exertion as each step was accompanied by the sound of water sloshing about within the dozens of containers she carried. One canteen hovered into my hoof, suspended within a field of her magic. “Here you go, Lady Shadow.”
“My thanks.” I took the water, then lightly sipped it. To my surprise, the cool water felt remarkably refreshing, and I came to the reluctant conclusion that the sergeant had been quite correct. I needed the water, and likely the food as well. I emptied the canteen entirely, then tore into the sandwich.
While I occupied myself with such mundane needs, the rest of the soldiers on the wall converged upon young Midnight. Her supply of canteens rapidly dwindled as dozens of warriors refreshed themselves. She had a few moments to enjoy her relative lack of burdens, until empty canteens began making their way towards her. I passed mine to her as well, and she took a moment to glower hatefully at it before reattaching the canteen to her bags, grumbling under her breath, “And I had only just refilled these.”
The sergeant chuckled softly at her displeasure. “And now you can refill them again.” He removed one of the last full canteens remaining on young Midnight, replacing it with his own empty one. Noting her resentful glare, he said, “Watching the walls is thirsty work, child.”
She groaned loudly, then set to work rearranging the canteens with both hooves and magic in an effort to make them rest more easily upon her overburdened shoulders. “This is a cycle that has no end. 'Tis maddening ... and tiring. I am happy I was not born an earth pony. If this is anything like farmwork, I want no part of it.”
One of the many earth ponies manning the walls paused in midst of drinking his water, sparing an annoyed look for the child. “Farming is good, honest work.”
Midnight glowered balefully at him, showing the earth pony none of the respect she ought to have given to her elders. “Your idea of honest work strikes me as dirty, difficult, and demeaning. I prefer my books.”
I quickly intervened before the child could do herself further damage. ‘Twould not do to have her causing discord within our own forces. “Physical toil will build both your muscles and your character, child. ‘Tis how young warriors grow strong enough to wield their blades.”
Midnight cocked her head to the side, slowly blinking as she considered my words. “But I will not grow up to be a warrior. What need have I of such muscles? And I am not sure I see the correlation 'tween back-breaking labor and character.”
“A strong body supports a strong mind,” I explained. “And e’en if it did not, 'tis always better to grow strong of body rather than remain weak. Not every problem can be solved with magic. As for hard work, it teaches one determination.”
Midnight sighed loudly, looking over the dozens of empty canteens draped over her, then glancing across the inner walls to the fountain some hundred paces away. “If I must continue carrying water for the rest of this siege, then I am going to be the most determined pony in all of Canterlot by the time ‘tis done.”
As she groaned and ran a hoof o’er her face, I took note of the weary slump of her shoulders and the bags developing beneath her slightly bloodshot eyes. Her complaints were not merely the usual grumblings of any child forced to work when they would prefer to remain idle; she truly was worn down by her duties. I would have to be a heartless fool not to make allowances. “A short rest should not cause any problems, child.”
Midnight immediately seated herself, accompanied by the sound of dozens canteens ringing against one another. “I think I could sleep for a week if allowed to.” She brought both hooves up to rub at her eyes. “If I could stay asleep, that is.”
That remark drew my interest. “Thy sleep is troubled, child?”
She slowly nodded, covering a yawn before she spoke. “I have been having trouble sleeping as of late. My dreams have been most unpleasant. Nightmares.” She waved a hoof through the air, clearly not wishing to provide further details. “Mother has given me some potions to aid my sleep, but they seem to be less potent with every night.”
“Dreams are passing things, child,” I reassured her. “Pay them no mind.”
Despite my comments, I wondered if there might be more to it than mere dreams. Legend said that before her madness Commander Luna had watched o’er the dreaming world. And after her fall from grace she had dubbed herself a nightmare. Could it be that now her avatar sought to torment ponies in their sleep? Certainly ‘twould be dangerous if she could deny our forces proper rest. Exhausted soldiers do not fight well.
Sergeant Stalwart, thankfully oblivious to my darker thoughts, remained focused on much more mundane solutions to young Midnight’s problem. “Mayhaps a warm glass of milk ere you go to bed? I know that helped my daughter whenever she—”
There was a sudden loud, meaty thud, and the sergeant let out a noise that was halfway between a grunt and a wheeze. As his legs collapsed and he fell to the cold stone of the battlement, I saw a crossbow bolt protruding from his side.
After a moment of shocked disbelief, I recovered and shouted in my best battlefield bellow, “We are under attack! Medics to the walls, we have wounded!”
I turned my gaze back to the open cavern, intent on seeking out the crossbowpony who had struck down my sergeant and exacting righteous retribution upon them. However, the caverns remained as blank and seemingly empty as they had been when last I searched them. Had an enemy marksmare somehow managed to fire at us from the darkness?
Another unpleasant thought crossed my mind: the sergeant had been standing next to me. In all likelihood, the bolt buried within his flesh had not been intended for him.
My gaze turned all the sharper, determined to unveil the archer’s hiding place. As I concentrated on piercing the darkness to find my hiding enemy, I felt a sudden curious sort of resonance from the helm upon my brow. A moment later, the darkness and shadows within the cave faded and I could see hundreds of approaching forces. Their forms were vague and wispy, as if some force sought to conceal them from my eyes.
“Beware!” I shouted to my soldiers. “The enemy’s warlocks are hiding their forces from our sight! Strike them down ere they are upon us!”
I turned to young Midnight, intent upon seeing her to safety ere the battle was truly joined. I found her standing far too close to the battlements, staring off into the distance. Much as she had at the wedding, she murmured under her breath. “She is coming.”
Curious as I found the remark and all that it implied, now was no time to concern myself with the child or her oddities. My wing blades flashed out, neatly severing the web of canteens bound to young Midnight. “The middle of the battlefield is no place for a child. Go to safety, and spread the word that we need reinforcements at—”
The rest of my words were lost as the walls suddenly buckled and heaved beneath us, then hurled the both of us up into the air with a mighty roar. Instinct took over and I spread my wings in an effort to control my sudden, unexpected flight. I quickly grabbed Midnight and pulled the flightless child protectively to my breast.
While there was no time to fully control myself ere I returned to the cavern floor, I did at least manage to prevent myself from landing too badly. ‘Twas rough, but I had suffered far worse. And more importantly, I ensured that Midnight was unharmed.
I turned my eyes to the southern gates only to find that the gates themselves were no longer there, nor was a substantial portion of the walls. I could only assume that the rebels’ warlocks had used their magic to somehow conceal themselves as they approached the gates and ignited the explosion that had ruined our defenses.
The rebel forces who had been similarly concealed from our eyes began to pour in through the fresh breach in our walls. My own soldiers were badly out of position, many still stunned by the sudden destruction of the gates and most the rest still manning their positions on the now fatally compromised wall. If the breach could not be contained, the entire position would fall within a matter of minutes.
I staggered back to my hooves, shaking my head in an effort to clear it. Midnight remained lying on the stone floor, still curled up protectively to shield her face and vitals. “Midnight! You must flee from this place! It is not safe!” My words were distant and tinny, as though I were hearing somepony shouting from a mile away. The child gave no response, and I was not e’en certain that she had heard me.
I would have tried to rouse her further, but there was no time before the enemy was upon me. One of the earth pony irregulars let out an excited cry that I could only barely hear, then charged towards me, swinging an oversized wood axe at my head. Were I not so badly dazed from being thrown about I would easily have dodged and countered his clumsy strike, but as it was I barely managed to avoid being split like a log.
However, the very threat of my impending demise began to bring my mind back to focus, and fire burned through my veins as instincts honed through a lifetime of training came to the fore. His second strike was more easily dodged, and when he attempted a third I exploited the opening, my blade passing along his throat.
With the strike, I received another reminder of the fine quality of Sunbeam’s enchantment work. Mine old blades would merely have opened my foe’s throat, but these new weapons passed easily through not only his throat, but the thick muscles of his neck and e’en his spine. Had my blades been angled for it, I might have cleanly removed his head in a single stroke. Instead, the nearly headless corpse stumbled forward for several steps, carried by its momentum.
Midnight had just begun to recover from her own shock when the corpse fell before her, blood spurting out of the stump of the pony’s neck. A bright splash of arterial blood struck her full in the face, causing her to recoil in shock.
I could spare no more time for her, as the next attackers were already upon me. The next earth ponies howled out furious battle cries, and between their shouts and similar appearances I gathered that they must have been kin to the first pony I’d slain (1).
1: A fairly likely scenario, since most of the earth pony units within rebel ranks were organized according to the communities they were recruited from. This structure had disastrous results for many families and villages, as it frequently led to the total extermination of all fighting-age ponies within that group. The famous poem “Six Silent Stones” , in which one earth pony soldier is excused from the war after all six of his siblings died in a single ill-fated assault, was inspired by far too many historical parallels.
This is a large part of why current Guard policy is to never recruit a unit from one specific area, and to keep family members as split up as can reasonably be managed.
Whate’er, the case, I had no intention of allowing them to avenge themselves upon me. I met their charge, my blades lashing out and easily cutting through their crude armor and ill-trained defenses. There was no honor to this battle, as half-trained peasants wielding weapons made from farm equipment tried to o’ercome a born warrior wearing wargear forged by Celestia herself. ‘Twas at best a single step removed from mere slaughter.
The bards would ne’er sing of this battle, for my deeds were not heroic. There was merely the cold necessity of striking down enemy soldiers ere they could find weaker foes. With young Midnight behind me and quite helpless, I could not let them pass. The battle, if one could even call it that, left a foul taste in my mouth.
As the last of the earth pony irregulars fell, I charged forward into the breach. To my relief, the ponies there were pegasi decked out in the colors of Clan Charger. They proved much worthier foes, and I was glad to see that many of mine own forces had rallied and were also at work pushing them back through the breach.
Howe’er, the ranks were yet broken and the fighting chaotic, and in such battles the individually superior soldiers of the rebels held the advantage. If the line was to hold, we would have to drive them back in order to buy time to dress our ranks and bring the pikes to the fore. If we could force the enemy to confront an ordered pike wall rather than scattered hooffulls of soldiers, we might yet hold the line.
I sought an enemy champion, hoping that I might cut them down and shake the enemy’s morale badly enough to turn the tide. The Chargers’ commander was not long in showing himself: a young stallion who shared much of Bright’s looks. Younger than Dusk, and thus presumably one of her younger sons, though still of an age to hold battlefield command.
As I cut my way towards him, his eyes widened. For a moment there was terror in them, but then a sort of mad glee replaced the fear. “Shadow! At last, I shall avenge my sister and my brother! I will be your doom, foul one! I am Flash Charger! Son of Bright Charger and—”
A jab to the throat abruptly ended his speech, and a heavier blow to his helm knocked him to the ground, dazed. My blades flashed out, reducing his lance to kindling. One of the many splinters from his ruined weapon sank into his hindquarters through a chink in his armor, and blood welled out of the fresh wound.
I hesitated for a moment, then withdrew my blade from his neck. I had already taken one of Bright’s children from her, howe’er unintentionally. I had no desire to claim a second when mercy was easily within my grasp. I turned to the nearest Charger. “Return your commander to his mother. Let her see how I treat her children when ‘tis within my power to inflict death or agony upon them, and take that lesson to heart.”
The remaining Chargers exchanged a silent glance with one another, then slowly stepped forward to collect their wounded captain. As I had hoped would happen, they fell back from the breach to carry him to safety. For a precious minute the rebels had to halt their attack to allow the Charger forces to withdraw in peace, as the breach was too narrow to allow the attack to continue while other soldiers fell back.
The short, informal truce was unlikely to last much longer than it took the Chargers to clear the wall, so I quickly put that time to use dressing my ranks. Fresh pikes were quickly distributed to the front ranks, and my ponies fell into the Dragon’s Teeth formation that had stymied the rebel advance at Avalon Vale. When next they tried to breach the walls, it would go badly for them.
As soon as I had seen to our frontlines, I stepped back to see to young Midnight. I had lost track of the child once the battle had been fully joined, but now that I had a moment’s peace ‘twas time to see to her safety. Assuming she had not wisely taken my advice and fled back to the city as quickly as her hooves could carry her.
She had not. Though to her credit, ‘twas not due to being frozen in terror. “Could somepony please get this dead earth pony off of me?” the trapped child groaned, struggling to squirm out from beneath the corpse of a rebel soldier. “It is very heavy, and bleeding on me. I have heard that the bowels release at some point after death, and do not wish to still be trapped beneath him when that happens. ‘Twould be most unpleasant.”
I rolled the body off of her, grimacing as I realized that her horn had actually penetrated the corpse’s flesh. Small surprise she was so covered in blood. I quickly swiped the worst of it off her face. “I trust none of the blood is yours?”
She shook her head. “Neigh, if ‘twas I would also be complaining about being injured.” She rose to her hooves, slowly stretching out each of her limbs as she enjoyed her newly restored freedom. Despite my brief effort to clean her face, she remained so thoroughly coated in the blood of the dead that I saw more shades of crimson upon her than her natural coat. Were she wearing armor, one might mistake her for a member of my clan.
Nothing a good bath could not address, however. ‘Twas of little consequence so long as none of the blood adorning her was her own. “The breach has been sealed, and the walls shall hold for a time. We should see you to safety.”
Young Midnight nodded gravely. “That would be for the best. I am too young to experience dying horribly on the battlefield. I would not care to have my brains dashed out by a hammer-hoof, nor my skull cloven by an axe or my chest pierced by a lance.” She locked her eyes upon my own breastplate, regarding it with genuine curiosity. “I am sure you can quite agree that the last of those is most unpleasant. I am curious, how exactly did you expire? Did the blow pierce one of your lungs, causing you to slowly drown in your own blood? Or did she damage your heart, impeding bloodflow throughout your entire body? Or—”
“I have no memory of it, and this is a poor time to discuss it regardless.”
“What was dying like?” she asked, completely undeterred by my irritated tone. “Or almost dying, at least. I have read many accounts, but never had the opportunity to directly speak to somepony who experienced it. Are the stories about tunnels of light and hearing the voices of loved ones accurate?”
I struggled to avoid the urge to snap at her. “Again, now is not the time for such talk.”
A faint frown flicked across her lips. “May I at least see the scar?”
I sighed and made a minor concession. “Perhaps at a later date,” I answered, largely in the hopes of closing the topic. Ere she could attempt to engage me in further conversation, I shifted mine attention back to the breach in our walls. Despite the dense wall of pikes holding the breach, the rebels seemed to be gearing up for another assault.
Young Midnight followed my gaze, a worried frown working its way onto her face. “Are they going to break through?”
“Not quickly or easily.” I noted that my words did not remove the troubled grimace from her face and sought to calm her. “They would have to launch a frontal assault into a narrow breach in the wall against a well-ordered pike wall. The advantage is firmly on our side in that battle.”
I frowned, troubled by that very fact. When the enemy makes a move that seems to be to your own advantage, caution is always called for. While one can certainly hope that the enemy is simply making a mistake, it is always possible that one’s foes are merely playing out part of some grander plan. Often a seeming vulnerability is merely a lure to draw the enemy into a trap.
Or mayhaps ‘twas merely paranoia. From all I had heard, Swift had been quick to spend the lives of his soldiers since taking command of the rebel forces, and he might well manage to force the breach if he pressed the attack fiercely enough. Even with my forces in a strong position and ideally equipped, weight of numbers would eventually tell. And securing a breach in our walls was certainly worth paying a heavy price in blood.
Still, I misliked that explanation. The initial strike had shown unusual cunning, rather than Swift’s usual reliance on the weight of expendable numbers. It seemed prudent to assume the second strike would likely display much the same.
Midnight frowned thoughtfully. “Where are your reserves? I have read about war—it seemed prudent, given the circumstances. Many of my books mentioned the importance of having reserves to plug holes in the line or counter unexpected enemy maneuvers.”
“Your books were quite correct.” I waved to the pike force positioned within the breach. “Our reserves are, in fact, holding the breach right now.”
The child grimaced. “So you have no remaining reserves to commit should the next phase of the battle go badly? That strikes me as less than ideal.”
“It is not what I would prefer,” I conceded, “but on the battlefield one rarely has the luxury of having all be exactly as one would like it. I will fight this battle with the available forces, and we will hold until reinforcements arrive.”
“And if you fail?” She asked.
“We cannot fail, or else the entire defensive line could be compromised.” My voice hardened into iron. “We will hold here.”
The child blinked very slowly, then picked up one of the few water canteens that had survived the battle. “I see. In that case, the soldiers will likely require water. I should return to my duties as well.”
I immediately shook my head. “Neigh, Midnight. It is far too dangerous.”
She nodded sharply. “You are still here. As are the soldiers standing in the first rank of battle. While I do not wish to be impaled upon a spear of have my guts ripped out by a billhook, I will stand with you, Lady Shadow.”
For a moment I was at a loss for words. Such bravery was worthy of a soldier of Pegasopolis. Though I knew ‘twould likely be more prudent to send the child to safety, such seemed a poor response to her admirable courage. “So be it then, Midnight. Stand and fight with us, like a true warrior.” I paused a moment, then amended, “Though do not sell your life foolishly. If matters go badly, find somewhere to hide until you can make your way to safety.”
“Of course.” The child’s eyes flicked o’er to the corpse I had so recently rescued her from beneath. “It would seem that there will be no shortage of good things to hide beneath in the middle of this battlefield. I daresay I shall be quite safe. Which is good, since if I were to die in your care Mother would likely be wroth with you.”
“Extremely so.” While the relationship ‘tween Sunbeam and her daughter was one I still did not fully understand, ‘twas plain enough that she would react most badly to any harm befalling her. Though whether ‘twas out of genuine love for her child or simply a desire to protect her own name and reputation, I could not say.
“Fortunately,” I continued, “I have no intention of allow you to...” I slowly trailed off as I noted a force of rebel pegasi assembling at the far end of the cavern. Despite the low ceiling and stalactites making flight impractical, they were all airborne. And most importantly, they were the fine armor and elite emblems of the hetairoi .
I did not know what they planned, but I was certain that if the enemy intended to launch some masterstroke to breach the walls, ‘twas likely no coincidence that one of the best units in all Pegasopolis was on the field and preparing to attack. “Archers! Take the hetairoi down!”
The archers immediately opened fire, but the range made their shots difficult. Low cavern ceilings had their disadvantages for our archers as well as the enemy fliers. As soon as they realized that they were under attack, the hetairoi began their charge. The archers reloaded and fired again, but between the high speed of the pegasi’s advance and the heavy armor of the hetairoi few of their bolts had any effect. Many of the bolts instead found targets among the advancing ground forces, who could not keep pace with the hetairoi but were also charging regardless.
Young Midnight slowly shifted until I stood between her and the advancing rebels. “Those are Her guards,” the child whimpered. “She is here.” I could spare no more time for the child, though I certainly prayed she was wrong. The battle was perilous enough without the Avatar taking the field against us.
The charging hetairoi focused their advance on my pike wall, approaching so hard and fast that for a moment I wondered if they intended to impale themselves upon the upraised weapons. However, at the last possible moment, when they had advanced close enough that I could easily recognize Dusk Charger and Sierra Doo leading the advance, they suddenly performed a sharp reversing turn. ‘Twas an insanely dangerous maneuver to perform, especially while armored and so close to enemy lines. Several of the hetairoi either plowed into the pike wall or were cut down by archers as the sharp turn left them virtually motionless for a critical instant.
However, at the centerpoint of that sharp turn each of the hetairoi hurled something towards the ranks of my pike line. A moment later, explosions rippled through the tightly packed ranks, blasting holes into the dense formation that thoroughly disrupted my pike line and reduced the ordered wall into a confused morass.
Fire gems! They had used fire gems to break up my formation!
Moments later the rebels ground forces struck, taking full advantage of the disorder in my ranks. A pike wall is formidable when it functions properly, but if the wall itself is broken then there is nothing but a large mass of ponies armed with weapons ill-suited to close combat outside a dense and organized formation. All too soon the defenders were o’erwhelmed, and the rebels held the breach once more.
I knew what had to be done, much as it pained me. I snatched up young Midnight, ignoring the child’s startled squawk as I tossed her onto my back, bellowing out orders. “Fall back! The southern gate is lost! Withdraw to the western redoubt!”
Thankfully, we managed to fall back in relatively good order. The forces manning the walls had been outflanked the instant the rebels claimed the breach, but some managed to escape before the rebel trap snapped fully shut, and the rest sold their lives to buy us time to withdraw. By the time we arrived at the western redoubt, I had gathered nearly half the garrison to my side. Which sounded much better than saying that over half the forces manning the walls and gate had been lost to the enemy.
Stalwart was not among the soldiers with me. I had seen no sign of the valiant sergeant since he had taken the crossbow bolt meant for me, only for us to be scattered by the explosion at the southern gate. I could not bring myself to believe that he was dead, yet I knew that all logic suggested he was unlikely to have survived.
But then, all logic also said that I should have died from the wound Bright had inflicted upon me, so I would continue to hold hope for the sergeant’s survival until we recovered a body. ‘Twas always possible that he was part of some other group of survivors fleeing the battle, or had e’en been found and captured by the enemy. Better that he be a prisoner than dead. Prisoners can escape or be ransomed; the dead cannot.
Upon arrival at the redoubt, Sunbeam Sparkle was waiting for me. Or perhaps more accurately, she was waiting for the young child riding on my back. As soon as young Midnight laid eyes upon her mother, she quietly slipped off my back and trotted to her side. One of Sunbeam’s forelegs snatched her daughter to her side, giving the young child a quick, fierce hug. After that she held the filly at hoof’s length, her horn glowing as she inspected the child with both her eyes and her magic. “You are unharmed?”
“I suffered no injuries,” the child dutifully reported. “Lady Shadow saw to my safety.”
“I see.” Sunbeam spared a brief look and a grateful nod to me, then returned her attention to her daughter. “Return to my tower at once, and remain there until the battle is over.” For a moment Midnight opened her mouth as though she might object to her mother’s orders, but one look at Sunbeam’s stern, uncompromising eyes was enough to silence her. For all her determination to remain on the battlefield, she still did not dare defy her mother.
As the child reluctantly began the journey back to safety, I caught the eye of one of my clanmates, then pointedly nodded towards Midnight. He caught my meaning easily enough, and peeled off from the rest of the group to watch o’er the young child, seeing her safely home.
With Midnight attended to, I returned my attention once more to the war. “The southern gate has fallen to the enemy. How do we fare elsewhere?”
“Better,” the Archmagus answered tersely. She turned about, trotting into the redoubt and towards several converted mining buildings. Within lay another improvised command area, and I was heartened to see both the new grandmaster of Sol Invictus and Captain Greenwall awaiting within. I strode towards the large tactical map that dominated the center of the room, and reluctantly removed the markers for our own forces, shifting too few of them to the western redoubt and then advancing the rebels to the gates. Grandmaster Quest grimaced at the news, while Greenwall grunted and nodded.
“The enemy struck under cover of magic. The gate and a portion of the wall were lost ere we even realized that we were under attack. We tried to hold the breach, and discovered that they have also devised a counter for the Dragon’s Teeth formation as well.”
Grandmaster Quest’s frown deepened. “I do hope this is one of those times when you bring good news to offset the bad.” My silence was answer enough to his hopes, and he sighed. “How have they broken the Dragon’s Teeth?”
“Fast, high-speed fliers coming in at a low angle and unleashing fire gems into the heart of the formation shortly before their ground forces charge in.” I paused, thinking back to the attack itself. “The hetairoi performed the strike, and the flying maneuvers involved required a great deal of skill. Not to mention the timing must be precise: if they strike too late they risk hitting their own, and too early would allow our pike walls to dress their ranks ere the battle is joined. And the hetairoi bled.”
“The hetairoi are an elite unit, aye?” Greenwall asked. When I nodded and did not correct his mangled pronunciation, he continued on. “It takes a very difficult maneuver from one of their best units, using magical support. ‘Twould seem to me they won because they played all their best cards in one go.”
Grandmaster Quest nodded slowly. “Presuming I follow the metaphor correctly, I believe the captain raises a valid point. They broke our lines by concentrating all their best forces at a single point, and no doubt paid a heavier toll in blood from them to achieve that goal. The assaults elsewhere along our lines have been conventional ones, and far less effective.”
I followed the reasoning easily enough. “For the moment, thin our front lines to hold a larger reserve. If they can only break our lines in one place at a time, then we simply need to ensure that we have enough reserves to plug those gaps when they appear. Assuming we survive the day, we will need more units stationed in the tunnels to allow a larger reserve without diminishing our forward defenses.”
“Cutting rest time on the surface will not make the men happy,” Greenwall grunted. “Not even the miners like staying down here forever. But losing the war would be worse.”
Grandmaster Quest nodded grimly. “Nothing else for it, at least until we find a way to keep the Dragon’s Teeth from breaking.”
“Aye.” I scowled and shook my head. “Especially since the enemy will likely begin training more fliers to replicate the hetairoi’s maneuver. Now that its effectiveness has been proven in battle, they would be fools not to.”
“There is likely a limit to how many fire gems they can produce,” Sunbeam opined. I had almost forgotten that the Archmagus was present, as she had remained quite silent while I discussed tactics with the other generals. ‘Twould seem that she had little head for military matters. “The enemy has far fewer warlocks than we have magi,” Sunbeam continued, “and any warlock who exhausts himself crafting gems will be of little use in battle. Even if every pegasi in the enemy ranks is trained to use the gems, they could never hope to equip even a half a tithe of their numbers without rendering their warlocks useless for any other purpose.” She shrugged, then amended, “Barring the unanticipated, of course.”
My shoulders untensed slightly at the news.“‘Twould seem that the news, while grim, is not hopeless, then.”
“Indeed so.” Grandmaster Quest agreed. “I shall set my knights to testing ways to counter the enemy tactic at once.”
“Try stringing nets between the pikes,” Greenwall suggested. “The nets catch the gems before they hit our soldiers. Makes ‘em go boom too soon.”
“I think ‘twould be unwieldy, and the nets would only survive a single volley,” Quest opined with a grimace. “But I see no reason not to at least test it.”
“My magi might be able to counter them too,” Sunbeam suggested. “Though ‘twould not be easy, and I do not have sufficient numbers to deploy them everywhere.”
“So we concentrate the magi at critical strongpoints, and mayhaps extra training in how to counter fire gems.” I shifted my gaze to Greenwall. “In the meantime, let us entertain every idea we can conjure, and one of them is sure to prove effective,” I concluded. “But that will matter little if we lose the war today. How quickly can we contain the breach of the southern gates?”
“Fresh units are coming in from the surface as we speak,” Quest assured me. “The question is how quickly they will arrive, and how far the enemy will advance before we can bring sufficient force to bear to stop them.” His hoof traced along the network of tunnels leading to and from the southern gates. “The further they get, the more places we shall have to stop them from advancing through. A pity we could not collapse more tunnels, or rig them to collapse should the gates fall.”
“The miners would rather not risk bringing half the mountain down on our heads,” Greenwall grunted out. “We only have so many engineers, and most of them are busy building up fortifications, making sure the tunnels we need stay up, widening the killing fields in front of our walls whenever they can, and all the other stuff they gotta do. Plus, a tunnel rigged to collapse when somepony pulls a lever or cuts a rope can end up going down because of bad luck or rebel spies. The rebs almost certainly have agents somewhere within the city.”
Considering Gale had her own informants within the enemy camp whom she remained in contact with prior to her capture, I could not dispute that. ‘Twas never wise to assume that one’s foes were less competent than oneself.
“We need to delay the enemy advance.” I grimaced down at the map. “If we had more time, we could bring up reinforcements before they move too far. We could even try to reclaim the southern gates. The breach in the wall is narrow, and until they widen it only a trickle of reinforcements can come through.”
I scowled as one way I could have slowed the enemy sprang to mind once more. During the retreat I had considered ordering many of my survivors from the southern gates to hold the nearest tunnel mouth and make the enemy pay for every inch they took. Even if the Dragon’s Teeth formation would not be effective, their sacrifice would have slowed the enemy.
But therein lay the problem: ‘twould assuredly be a sacrifice. Throwing away the lives of good soldiers just to delay the enemy. Despite ordering them to their deaths, I would have to continue mine own withdrawal. Quest, Greenwall and the others needed to know all that I had learned of the enemy advance. Loath though I was to admit it, my life was also more valuable than that of the common soldier. An experienced commander and political leader is a priceless asset in a time of war. ‘Twas why Celestia, Sunbeam, and Morning had gone to such extremes to preserve my life. Throwing my life away would have been foolish.
Yet it also sat poorly with me to order soldiers to certain death whilst I fled to safety. And if word of that should spread within the ranks, many would have cause to doubt my leadership. As too often happens with war, I had faced two unpalatable options, and chosen what I dearly hoped was the least terrible of them. When in doubt, I think it wiser to err on the side of saving lives rather than expending them.
However, the thought of fleeing while my soldiers died did bring an idea for how to stop the enemy advance to mind. “Duels.” Everypony at the table paused in their own discussion, staring at me curiously. “We can challenge the enemy leaders to duels. The warriors of Pegasopolis value their honor too much to refuse, and many advances would halt while the warriors paused to witness the clash itself.” In mine own experience, very few pegasi could resist the temptation to watch an honor duel unfolding, even when they had other duties to attend to.
“And it would allow us the opportunity to remove several important enemy leaders,” Grandmaster Quest agreed, though the frown on his face told another story. “Of course, it also presents them with the chance to remove us.”
“Precisely,” Sunbeam agreed, openly scowling at me. “And need I remind thee that we have generally fared poorly in such exchanges? I barely managed to rescue thee from that foolishness with Lance, and by all rights thou shouldst have died after what happened with Bright. Not to mention Grandmaster Crossguard’s unfortunate clash against Steel Striker.” She turned a cold, faintly mocking smile upon me. “Tell me, when has offering an honor duel ever worked to our advantage? And let us not forget that the Avatar hates thee intensely. She is sure to be the one who answers thy challenge. Art thou ready to face her in battle? She struck thee down with a single blow when she was still mortal.”
“The plan carries undeniable risks,” I conceded, “but that is the very nature of war itself. If we are successful, we can bolster our own morale at a time when it is no doubt badly shaken, and remove the enemy’s confidence in their own victory. We might even be able to drive the leaderless hordes back through the southern gates and reclaim the battle line.”
“If we win,” Greenwall grunted out. “Big if.”
“Throwing our forces at the enemy is no more certain to bring victory, and will come at a considerably higher price in blood,” I countered. “And I would not suggest challenging the strongest duelists among the enemy.” Mine eyes shifted to Sunbeam Sparkle, and I asked a question to which I already knew her answer. “In a duel, can you defeat their arch-warlock?”
“Hidden Facts?” She leaned back in her seat, a confident smirk on her lips. “Easily.”
“Swift Blade is also a weak personal combatant,” I declared. “And infamous for refusing challenges whenever they are offered. If he refuses my challenge he will show himself a coward to the entire army, and if he accepts, I will cut him down in moments. Either outcome will succeed in delaying the enemy advance and harming their morale.”
Sunbeam grinned, tapping a hoof against her lips. “I will admit, the chance to remove Hidden from the enemy’s ranks is tempting. If we left the warlocks leaderless, they might well turn upon one another until a new leader can murder their way to the top of the pack. And I do not think any of his acolytes are Hidden’s equal in magical skill.”
“It seems a reasonable plan, then,” Grandmaster Quest conceded. “Or at least as reasonable as any other I can think of. I will excuse myself from any duels, however. Should the worst happen we need to retain at least one experienced leader, and ‘twould be unwise to send all our generals into duels and leave none to watch o’er our forces.”
“Prudent,” I agreed. I cast a curious look to Greenwall. “Will you be joining us?”
The earth pony commander rolled his thick shoulders in a shrug. “Might as well. ‘Tis not as if I had anything else planned for today. Past time I showed my soldiers that earth ponies have as much honor as unicorns and pegasi. Most of the rebel earth pony leaders have not impressed me with their skills thus far. Especially as they die or are removed so frequently.”
“There is an appropriate symmetry to it.” Sunbeam observes. “One of each race, and each challenging a member of the other race.”
“Then we are agreed,” I concluded. “Let us go to war.”
We strode towards the enemy lines, accompanied by a healthy honor guard. In the front rank, one of Grandmaster Quest’s knights bore a pair of flags. One the traditional white banner of negotiation, and the other the crossed lances that signalled our intent to issue a formal challenge. Normally such ceremonial touches were not bothered with, but in this case we did want to add a touch of theatricality to it all. After all, the bigger the production, the more enemy soldiers would halt their advance to watch the battle unfold.
The enemy parted ranks when we met them, and by the time we arrived at the southern gates once more a considerable number of rebels were trailing behind us. The gates themselves were naturally swarming with rebel soldiers, and I judged that we had gathered a suitable audience to begin the farce.
The lead knight slammed the base of his flagpole against the stone three times, and the entire enemy camp fell silent. “Hear ye, hear ye!” He announced, his voice carrying easily through the entire cave thanks to some subtle magic on Sunbeam’s part. “My masters—the honorable Shadow Kicker, Guardian of the Realm and faithful shield of the True Queen Celestia, Archmagus Sunbeam Sparkle, the Queen’s strong right hoof, and Captain Greenwall of the loyal Earth Pony Militia forces—do hereby formally challenge the traitor and false ephor Swift Blade, the Arch-warlock Hidden Facts, and Stone Heart, commander of the rebel earth pony forces, to honorable single combat. Let them step forward, or show themselves as craven!”
A stir of hushed conversation rippled through the rebel ranks, and after several seconds I noted a stir amongst the soldiers holding the captured wall. It took nearly a minute, but the crowd slowly parted, and both Swift Blade and Hidden Facts strode forward, marching towards us.
However, the rebel commanders were not accompanied by any earth pony. Much more worryingly, Hidden and Swift both wore triumphant smiles. Swift would only be so pleased with himself if he believed some act of low cunning had ensured his own victory.
Precisely what he had done soon became all too clear as a thick cloud of dark blue mist shot o’er the heads of the rebel soldiers, coming to rest between the two rebel generals. The mist slowly shifted to the shape of an alicorn, and then with a flash became the Avatar herself. She grinned, exposing a pair of barely perceptible but undeniably present fangs. “Alas, Stone Heart died moments ago from wounds he sustained while assaulting your walls.” She flicked her dueling lance, removing fresh blood from it. “As the rightful ruler over the earth ponies, I gladly accept your challenge to single combat in his stead, Shadow.”
Oh. Oh, damnation...
Author's Note
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Aidan Hall
The three of us stood in stunned silence as the enormity of our problem slowly sank in. We had just challenged the Avatar of Nightmare Moon to a duel. Bright Charger had already been the greatest living duelist in Pegasopolis before she had been empowered by a mad alicorn. Now... “This could be a problem.”
“I thank thee for informing us of that,” Sunbeam snapped at me. “If not for thy wise counsel, I ne’er would have guessed that facing a demigod in single combat was a less than ideal situation. Truly, thou art most blessed with the famed tactical insight of the Ephors of Pegasopolis. I can only pray thou wilt share further revelations with us.”
I spared an annoyed glare for the Archmagus. “Becoming wroth with me will hardly improve our circumstances, Sunbeam.”
“I told thee that this was a terrible plan that would only end badly for us,” she groused.
“This was not the plan,” Greenwall grunted. “No point blaming each other. Best just figure out how to win.”
Sunbeam grimaced, but nodded sharply. Her horn lit up, and a privacy spell settled over us. For a moment I feared the spellwork might prompt the Avatar to attack, but she smirked and waved for us to proceed. ‘Twould seem she had no fear of whate’er we might be planning.
Sunbeam wasted no time. “We have come too far to simply withdraw. Not without looking the craven fools before our own forces and the enemy, at best. At worst, the Avatar will simply order her troops to cut us down if we withdraw from the challenge. And of course, the same goes for any violation of the expected rules. Not that I expect the Nightmare to be nearly so honor-bound as Lance Charger was.” She was silent for several seconds, then shifted so that she was almost but not quite looking at Greenwall. “Our only hope is that she plays out the farce so long as we stay on script. Whoever faces her will die, but we can still slay Hidden and Swift, then withdraw once the duel is over.”
The earth pony grasped what she implied quickly. “So one of us must die. I suppose an earth pony militia captain is more easily replaced than an Archmagus or an Ephor.”
I gripped his shoulder and shook my head. “We may find another captain, yes. But not one of your quality. I do not care for this plan.”
“I like it even less, Honored Shadow,” Greenwall replied with a grim smile. “I would welcome an alternative, but if none shows itself...”
That damnable title again. And the stallion seemed determined to give up his life to save mine. Most vexing. I quickly put a stop to it. “The Avatar will not let us walk away after she wins her duel with you. I slew her favored daughter, and Sunbeam struck down one of her sons. She will likely challenge myself or Sunbeam within an instant of the duel’s completion, and should we refuse, she will set her forces upon us.”
“A mad quest for vengeance need not e’en be in her mind,” Sunbeam’s eyes flicked over to Bright and her fellow duelists. “We sought to behead the rebels’ leadership. Do you think she does not see the chance to do the same to our own forces? The rebels would benefit greatly by removing Celestia’s best battlefield leader and warmage. Such a blow might well win the war in a single stroke.”
Sunbeam’s eyes raked over me, lingering on my armor. She let out an angry snort and waved towards me. “‘Twould seem there is nothing else for it. I would have preferred far better circumstances, but ‘tis time to see exactly what thine armor can do. Loath as I am to suggest the risk, I prefer a risk to the certainty of death.”
Greenwall nodded, a grim smile spreading across his lips. “Whate’er the dangers, I like this plan far better than the one where I nobly sacrifice my life.”
“Quite so,” I agreed. “I much prefer to make the enemy nobly lay down their lives, while we survive to enjoy our victory.” I shifted my attention to Sunbeam. “What canst thou tell me of mine armor and how it functions?”
“A great deal, but little of it would be of immediate use to you.” Sunbeam tapped her chin. “Trust to thine instincts. Remember that thou art bound to the armor, and it to thee. ‘Tis an extension of thy very being, no more separate from thee than a leg or wing. Using it should come as naturally as any part of thy fleshly body.”
Though she did not say as much before Greenwall, I could guess at the true reason behind her explanation. With my essence contained within the armor, it truly was a part of my body; arguably moreso than mine actual flesh. Howe’er, Sunbeam’s explanation did not ring true to me. If an earth pony were suddenly granted wings, they would not be able to fly simply because the new limbs were a part of their body.
I was sorely tempted to press Sunbeam for specifics, but soon realized that this would be a poor time for it. ‘Twould be all too easy for the Avatar to subtly pierce Sunbeam’s privacy spell and learn everything that Sunbeam told me of mine armor’s abilities. E’en if she did not, I suspected that ‘twould take some time for Sunbeam to fully explain all that the armor forged by Celestia herself may be capable of. Not to mention any practice I might require to master the armor’s abilities. The Avatar was unlikely to allow me a week’s peace to familiarize myself with mine armor ere the duel began.
A troubling thought sprang to mind: I might have spent the last day familiarizing myself with the armor and its abilities, instead of vainly standing watch o’er an empty cave in the hope that I might find some sign of my daughter’s fate. I could only hope that mine error would not cost myself and mine allies too badly.
“‘Twould seem we have a plan, then,” I concluded. “Unless either of you have any further insight to offer?” When neither of them spoke, I nodded to Sunbeam, and she removed the spell granting us privacy. Swift Blade gazed at us with carefully studied disinterest, while Hidden Facts had stepped aside to speak to his acolytes. The Avatar herself had her eyes firmly fixed upon me, a faint smirk creasing her lips. “We have reached a decision,” I announced, meeting her eyes. “If none of you object, I will meet Bright in combat, Sunbeam shall face Hidden Facts, and Swift shall battle Greenwall.”
The Avatar’s answering smile would have better suited a hungry predator than a pony. “I gladly accept thy challenge, Shadow. ‘Twill be a rare pleasure to slay the same pony twice.”
“Do not count your pleasures ere you have earned them.” I smiled, though ‘twas a cold and mocking thing lacking all warmth. “We shall see how the battle goes when you cannot strike me down treacherously 'neath a truce flag. You will find I am a far stronger foe when I am granted the chance to defend myself.”
The Avatar’s answering scowl was fearsome indeed, and her snarl bared teeth that included a pair of slightly pointed, elongated canines. “Thou speakest as if thou didst have any right to be offended by mine actions. Didst thou not strike down my beloved daughter in an act of foulest treachery? And yet thou dost dare to speak to me of honor? Neigh, thou hast no honor left. And if I was treacherous in thine execution, ‘twas only because I chose to pay thee in the very same coin thou didst use so readily. A traitor slain by treason. A trucebreaker cut down in a broken truce. I thought ‘twas most fitting.”
“You are right in one regard,” I conceded. “There was no honor in Lance’s passing. Had I known what fate would befall her, I would have done all that I could have to prevent her demise. I will regret until my last day that I did not choose a better means of restraining her.”
The Avatar cocked her head to the side. “Is that so? Curious, then, that the bards of Canterlot sing thy praises for cutting her down, praising thy nobility while casting aspersions upon my daughter’s memory ere her corpse had e’en grown cold.”
“The truth will have its day,” I answered levelly, not rising to the bait. “Mayhaps I shall e’en face a reckoning for the fate that Lance suffered at my hooves. In all honesty, there is a part of me that believes you deserve your vengeance. ‘Twould not be unjust if I were to die today, on this battlefield.” My eyes hardened, and I shook off any hint of melancholy. “But if we are to speak of justice, let us not stop at Lance. What of Copper Spark? A good stallion, a noble husband and father, who your servants sacrificed to fuel an act of dark magic. Does he not deserve justice too?”
“His death and the deaths of his fellow prisoners were necessary,” she answered coldly, glaring down at me. “An archmage’s blood is a potent catalyst, and Hidden’s ritual required power of the highest order. Their blood was the price for my life. I am sure thou wouldst have preferred that I die, and thy former lover yet lived, e’en though he had long since abandoned thee for another. But he made himself an enemy of the true and rightful ruler of Equestria. I would have been fully within my rights to execute him for such a crime. Thou shouldst be grateful: at least this way, his death served a higher purpose.”
“Grateful,” I repeated incredulously, staring at what could only be a madmare. I could barely restrain mine own fury when next I spoke. “Grateful?! I will show thee the depths of my gratitude when we battle, Bright.”
The Avatar showed me her fangs once more. “I look forward to it.”
Sunbeam’s eyes fell upon her own foe. “As I will enjoy facing you, Hidden. It has been too long since I faced a true warlock.”
“Indeed it has,” he answered with a smug grin. “For so many years I operated right under your nose, gathering followers and winning magi to my cause. You were content to rest on your laurels and play the endless games of court politics, seeking Celestia’s favor while I became the true master of the magi. Today, the great Sunbeam Sparkle will fall, and I shall take my rightful place as the true leader of Equestria’s mages.”
Sunbeam answered his grin with a smirk. “It is unwise to begin planning your victory celebration before the battle is won. In my time I have slain dozens of warlocks.”
“But this is the end of your era, and the beginning of mine.” Hidden drew himself up to his full height. “It is past time the world learned it need not fear you, Sunbeam Sparkle.”
“Your skull will make a fine addition to my daughter’s collection,” she countered.
Swift, meanwhile, looked o’er his foe with a sort of arrogant pride that his poor skills hardly warranted. “So I am to face a mere militia pony? I suppose I should be insulted, but at least ‘twill be a short duel. I can finish the match, then watch as Shadow and Sunbeam are slain by my companions.”
Greenwall met his gaze flatly, then cracked his neck. “Aye, ‘twill be short. For you.”
The Avatar spared a quick glance back at her servants, and they both fell silent. She then turned her attention to all three of us. There was a shift in her demeanour, the barely restrained fury over her daughter’s death fading to the background and something else taking its place. Her face became an unreadable mask; cold, distant, and alien. “Hold a moment. Let us not rush to battle ere the formalities are observed. I know the traditions, ‘tis only proper that I offer thee the chance to end our dispute without bloodshed. I shall make mine offer soon enough, but first I would ask a question of each of thee.”
I did not think her questions likely to be innocent, but ‘twas indeed tradition for the participants in a formal duel to offer their foes the chance to concede without bloodshed. We could hardly violate protocol now, and in any case we were hardly obligated to answer a question we did not care for. Indeed, her questions might reveal more of herself than our answers. “So be it, then. Ask what you will.”
“‘Tis simple enough.” Her gaze swept over me. “I know Archmagus Sparkle’s reasons for serving my sister. Both the ones she would proudly declare to the world, and the secret festering in her heart that she has not e’en allowed herself to see.” She turned a mocking smile on the Archmagus. “Thou canst lie to thyself, but not to thy dreams.” Her attention shifted to Greenwall. “I am sure the militiapony’s reasons for fighting are dull and simple. No doubt ‘tis simply a matter of Canterlot being his home, and our armies are attacking it. But thou...” Her eyes locked onto me. “Thou art the greater mystery to mine eyes. It is one thing to defend one’s home, and quite another to betray it. Tell me then, Shadow, why didst thou betray Pegasopolis to fight at my sister's side? Didst thou not love thy precious honor?”
‘Twas a question I had reflected upon many times in the past and knew the answer to. “Celestia is the rightful and righteous leader of Equestria. Her removal, though legal, was improper and unwise. The Ephorate’s war is not to the benefit of either Equestria as a whole or ponykind in general. Had peace prevailed, I would gladly have continued to serve despite my misgivings. But I could not ask my clanponies to die for a cause I did not believe in.” I met the Avatar’s gaze, frankly and challengingly. “For all her flaws, Celestia’s vision will lead to a better world. What would you create with the throne you seek, Bright?”
“The same, but instead of having grand dreams while Equestria falls to pieces around me, I would actually bring my desires to fruition.” She waved towards the hole her forces had blasted through the wall, and the corpses carefully piled to the side. “Dost thou see what a hundred years of my sister's rule has wrought? Ponies killing ponies in a civil war that need not happen if she were a stronger ruler. It is one thing to have a vision, and quite another to have the strength of will to seize it. For all the supposed beauty of her dreams, she lacks the strength to make them into reality.”
“She is stronger than you credit her for being,” I countered. “And if that is not enough, then I shall be her strength. Not even the greatest queens truly rule alone. As her subordinate, ‘tis my duty to aid her in whate’er way I can. When a leader stumbles one should help her back to her hooves, not fall upon her like a jackal.”
I turned mine own eyes to the fallen. Ponies who had been under my command, and who might have lived had I chosen another course of action. I was surprised yet also heartened to see that Stalwart was not among their number. “You speak of needless deaths, yet ‘tis your army that is the aggressor here. You have the power to end this war whene’er you wish. All the bloodshed here sullies your hooves, not mine or your sister’s.”
The Avatar’s head cocked to the side, a gesture that was curiously similar to one I had seen from young Midnight. “And I would say the same to thee. I have won the war. Only Canterlot stands defiant against mine armies. End this stubborn and doomed resistance, and we can at last have peace again. I am prepared to offer reasonable terms. Surrender the city, and I shall give my word of honor that its civilian populace will be treated well.” She glanced up the tunnels, then spoke with feigned indifference. “Surely thou knowest the horrors that await any city that falls after a long and difficult siege. Soldiers who have endured months of hardship and lost close companions will lose all sense of discipline when presented a chance to avenge themselves on their foes. If I take the city by storm, half of it will burn to the ground, and a year later most of the surviving mares shall have new pegasus foals. Spare them that, and surrender the city now.”
I met her eyes levelly, refusing to show any reaction to her threats. “If you take the city.”
She smiled coldly, waving once more to the fallen walls. “Twice now I have breached thy defenses, once before mine apotheosis and now today. More will follow. All Equestria answers to me, not my sister. There is no hope of relief for Canterlot. No outside force will rescue your city. Your defeat is as inevitable as the changing of the seasons or the rising of the moon. Attempting to deny this reality and continue your pointless resistance is an exercise in futility, and will only prolong the death and suffering of your forces.”
“Curious,” Sunbeam cut in. “You say that all Equestria outside Canterlot is loyal to you, yet I have heard many reports of resistance. Have you captured and slain Mossy Banks recently? Or the many others inspired by his example?”
The Avatar scowled hatefully at Sunbeam, her lips pulling back in a hateful snarl. “His death is as inevitable as your own. It is simply a matter of time and resources, both of which I have in abundance. I offer you the following terms. Surrender the city to me, and swear fealty. Shadow and Sunbeam will both face fair and open trials for the deaths of my children, but all others shall be granted amnesty for their actions, provided they offer their loyalty to me.”
Though I said nothing, I shared a brief glance with Sunbeam. We both knew there would only be one outcome to the supposedly fair trial the Avatar offered: our executions. Nothing less would sate Bright’s lust for vengeance. She had given herself o’er to the darkness to avenge Lance, she would not give us our lives.
Having no doubt realized we would grasp her hidden meaning, the Avatar continued. “Thou dost claim to be so noble and righteous, Shadow. Surely this must appeal to thee. For the good of all Equestria, lay down thy life. ‘Tis a small price to pay for peace. Gale can rule the clan in thy stead, provided she swears loyalty. I shall e’en grant my son permission to wed her, as he so plainly desires. (1) Thy clan and legacy shall be preserved. What is a single life against that?”
1: While it’s an easy point to overlook, I will note that she doesn’t make any mention of Gale’s desires. Unfortunately, there was precedent for forcing captured enemies into political marriages. Though I suspect that would not have ended well for Dusk ; even if Gale is clearly growing fond of him by this point, she would not react well to being forced into a marriage.
“You are a fool if you think I would willingly go to mine own execution,” Sunbeam scoffed, echoing mine own thoughts on the matter. She boldly stepped towards the Avatar, her choler rising with each moment. “Take the city by force, if you can. If you do, I will not be there when the palace falls. I assure you, I shall flee the city and take to the hills and forests. Mossy Banks has been a thorn in your side. If I must fight alone, I shall be the hidden knife in the dark, haunting you until the end of your days. You will ne’er know a moment’s peace, for always you will wonder where I will strike next. I would burn all Equestria to the ground before I let you have it.”
“And what of Commander Celestia?” I demanded. “You have not spoken of your plans for her. Is she to join us upon the gallows?”
“That is entirely at her discretion.” Her eyes fixed upon me, and a hint of scorn entered her voice. “Unlike some of the ponies present, I would prefer to avoid slaying mine own kin. Should she surrender peaceably, then I will make her my captive in relative comfort. There will be no need to slay or exile her if she gives me my rightful crown, and I will not taint my hooves with her blood. For all her crimes, she is still my sister.” She sighed and shook her head, but for all her efforts to seem resigned to it I could not help but note the faint smile upon her lips as she continued. “But if she fights, then I will smite her. There can be no half measures between beings such as us once weapons are drawn and blood is to be shed.”
She paused for a long moment, perhaps to visibly restrain her rising bloodlust. “Howe’er, my sister’s fate rests in thy hooves. If her generals swear fealty to me and march upon the palace at my side, my weak-willed sister will assuredly surrender. She lacks the strength to truly rule on her own, and only resists because there are others to fight on her behalf. As with an end to the war, the preservation of my sister’s life is within thy grasp. Should all proceed well, I might e’en chose to grant thee life at her side rather than the execution thy crimes deserve.”
“Oh, so now we might be spared if we betray our own and grovel prettily enough to suit you?” Sunbeam snapped, her voice thick with mocking contempt. “A fine incentive indeed. I am sorely tempted to surrender myself to likely execution, reliant solely on the mercy of a mare whose child I slew.”
“And so the both of thee will serve my sister instead, e’en thou ‘twill only lead to thy doom and further pointless deaths.” She turned a haughty glare upon the both of us. “Tell me, if thou art the victors in this, how dost thou expect my sister will reward thee? A few empty honors and meaningless titles? Her gratitude, so long as thou dost not have the temerity to expect anything of substance from her? It cannot be something so prosaic as mere wealth. And please, do not delude thyselves that she might offer thee anything greater than that. She cast me aside to take the throne for herself alone. She will not deign to share it with a mere mortal, nor sully her precious royal body with a lover. For all thy sacrifices, she will give thee nothing of substance as thanks. At best, she will say a few kind words before asking thee to resume thy previous duties. That is her way. She expects her servants to act righteously for no other reason than because ‘tis righteous. There are no rewards waiting for thee. No grateful queen to shower thee with gifts. Merely the cold knowledge that all the deaths thou hast caused served no purpose beyond being able to tell thyself that thou didst the right thing, and my sister approved. Does that truly seem like a wise path? For all that thou wouldst claim ‘tis noble, I find it pathetic.”
“Fine words,” Sunbeam snarled back. “Tell me, how many times did you dream of delivering that very speech in your century of exile on the moon? An exile you earned after going mad with jealousy because your subjects did not shamelessly fawn upon you often enough? Or let us speak of your other self: the mare who was shocked and offended that her children might die after she pushed them onto the battlefield. Did you expect that none would dare raise a hoof ‘gainst your brood, simply because they were your precious little foals? Did you expect us to lie down and die rather than defend ourselves when they attacked?”
The Avatar glared poisonously at her. “I pray that thou dost survive thy duel with Hidden, worm. I would dearly love to rip thy heart out and make thee watch its last beats. Perhaps with thy daughter at thy side, so that she might watch the light fade from thine eyes.”
“Enough talk,” I growled, stepping between the two. “I tire of your words, and your forked tongue. Is this to be a duel, or a debate? You cannot strike my friend down until you have slain me. A task you have already failed at once.”
The Avatar’s eyes narrowed, fixing me with a focused glare as she hefted her lance. A light dueling weapon, much like the one Bright had nearly slain me with. “So be it then. Let it not be said that I did not give thee the chance to join me before I struck thee down.” She bared her teeth in a savage, bloodthirsty parody of a smile. “I admit, I am going to enjoy slaying thee again. ‘Tis almost worth the consternation thy survival has caused me.”
Sunbeam smirked triumphantly, her eyes shifting to Hidden Facts. “I will enjoy destroying one of your most devoted followers, abomination. Today the madness he has wrought ends.”
Hidden shook his head, a faint smile contorting his face to make it resemble a skull’s rictus. “No, today is when it truly begins.”
Swift gave his foe a final contemptuous glance, then sniffed haughtily. “So it seems I have no better foe than an arrogant little dirt farmer. A poor match for the skills of an Ephor of Pegasopolis, but if ‘tis my duty to slay him, then so be it. If this is the best the Sun Tyrant’s minions can spare to face me, then I shall try to at least give him a warrior’s death. My companions will have to see to providing worthy entertainment to the troops with grand battles ‘gainst worthy foes.”
Greenwall snorted. “You talk a lot. Like the sound of your voice, or just scared?”
Swift snarled wordlessly, readying his wing blades. Or at least dropping himself into something that bore a passing resemblance to the proper stance for a bladewielder. I was sorely tempted to take him aside and explain that his knees were so stiff that a single low strike would topple him, and his blades were angled in such a way that they would deflect blows towards his body rather than away from it. As unwise as ‘twould be to advise an enemy, it irked me to see an Ephor of Pegasopolis give such a shameful performance. Especially when he wielded my chosen weapons.
I averted my eyes from him lest I see anything more that might so offend me. I had far greater concerns than Swift’s appalling lack of a true warrior’s skills. I would need every portion of mine own talents to survive the coming battle. Bright Charger was a foe I had feared might prove beyond my skill when she was a mere mortal. Indeed, her child Lance had proven to be my better in a purely physical confrontation.
Howe’er, I was committed to the battle now. “Shall we dance, Bright?”
A smile that for once was entirely Bright Charger spread across her lips. “Oh yes.” She began her approach slowly, with carefully measured steps, but I could already see the battle lust building within her. The eager light of her eyes, the quickening of her breath, and an extra hint of tension in her limbs. She spun her lance through a few light motions. “So tell me, dost thou wish for me to run the same lung through, or shall I wound the other?”
“The other,” I answered with forced cheer. “‘Twould be unbearably dull to suffer the same wound I have only just healed from.”
“Ah, and I would hate to bore thee.” She stalked in, slowly circling while I matched her movements. I noted another change in her fighting style almost at once. While she still bore her lance in a traditional Pegasopolan war harness, there was a faint blood-red glow about it that matched her eyes. No doubt some product of her new form’s magic. “In any case, I see no reason to replicate a wound that failed to slay thee the last time I inflicted it. I expect I shall be quite thorough in slaying thee this time. I doubt e’en my sister’s arts could replace a torn out heart, a severed head, and the immolation of thy corpse.”
I privately wondered at that. If my essence yet remained within mine armor rather than my flesh, would the destruction of my body truly slay me? Or might I live on as naught but a formless wraith, bound to my armor long into the future? (2)
2: Considering Shadow’s Armor still exists and there is a spiritual remnant of her inside it, she was right to worry. Though from what I have been told, the spirit in the armor is merely an echo of her former self left behind due to her soul residing in the armor for so long. I really, really hope that they told me the truth, because the idea that Shadow’s spent the last eight centuries trapped in a suit of armor is incredibly depressing.
Not that I had any intention of letting her slay me to test the theory. “I shall have to test the limits of thine endurance as well. ‘Twas said you were also near death when Hidden’s black rites restored you. Mayhaps ‘twill be I who severs your head and removes your heart.”
“Bold words, but we both know ‘twill not end that way.” She cautiously jabbed at me with her lance, remaining well out of mine own striking range. “Thou knowest how thy mettle measures 'gainst mine own. This battle can only end one way.” She feinted at the side she had wounded me upon, but I saw through the ruse and did not take her bait.
No doubt she sought to take my measure, and see if my long convalescence had weakened me. A tactically sound choice, but one I had no intention of allowing her to execute. The more she learned of me, the better she would be able to exploit any weakness I showed. Something dangerous indeed, given what I knew of Bright’s combat style. She would search for my weakness, then attempt to strike with at it with decisive force, ending the clash at a single stroke. If she found an opening, I would likely only learn of it when her lance pierced me.
I avoided her probing strikes with ease, but slowed my reactions to make my avoidance as narrow as possible. If she sought to gauge my reactions, I saw no reason to provide her with any more information than I must. “Much has changed since the last time we met. Neither of us are the mares we were before.”
I continued maintaining my distance, waiting for her to commit. Her longer weapon would make it difficult to close in and strike her; the best tactical choice would be to dodge her own attack, then close in and counter. A fact she was undoubtedly aware of, given her own reluctance to do more than probe my defenses.
I spared a quick look for the other ongoing battles, to check upon my companions. Swift Blade closed upon Greenwall, his stance arrogantly confident, and launched a single poorly executed strike at the militia captain. Greenwall batted the clumsy strike aside with an armored hoof, then closed in and struck Swift’s muzzle. Blood spurted out of the Ephor’s newly broken nose, and he stumbled back. Ere Greenwall could follow up with another strike, Swift blindly lashed out with his blades, scoring no hits but at least forcing the militia captain to step away. Swift used the space to take wing, flitting up into the stalactites dotting the cavern’s ceilings.
Sunbeam and Hidden’s conflict was a far different matter. Though in truth, I could hardly imagine what was happening or who held the advantage. The entire area designated for their duel had been swallowed up by the warlock’s illusions. The world around them shimmered like air distorted by fire, and queer, half-solid things floated of their own accord within, guided by some breeze unfelt to those outside. Colors and shapes alien to sanity coalesced and swirled, and mine eyes burned after a mere glance. E’en from this distance, mine armor hummed in protest against the wrongness of the scene.
I could only pray that Sunbeam would hold her own in the midst of that unfolding madness. Strange though it was to think it, I had somehow become friends with the mare.
The Avatar followed my gaze, though her own eyes rested more upon Swift, still hiding from his opponent. No doubt he would claim that he was simply maneuvering for position, but I knew the truth. For all his talents in logistics, he was no warrior. The Avatar seemed to share my opinion, snorting contemptuously and turning her eyes back to me. “I suppose ‘tis true. Both of us have changed. I have become Luna’s will made flesh, and thou dost look quite well for a mare dealt a mortal wound but a month ago.”
“And you look quite well for an abomination,” I countered.
Her lips curled in a contemptuous snarl, and her next probe was far more aggressive, the head of her lance scraping off my chestplate. “I am no abomination. I am an alicorn, a higher state of being. I am faster, stronger, smarter, and simply better in every conceivable way. I am Luna reborn, her will made flesh and Equestria’s liberation.” Her horn lit up showing the same blood red aura I had seen before. “And I have learned quite a few new tricks.”
Then the Avatar vanished from my sight.
I had faced invisible foes in my time as a mage hunter, and found them difficult but not insurmountable. E’en if mine eyes could not find her, I was blessed with other senses that could accomplish the task. I might smell her sweat and the oil of her armor, hear her hooves scuffing across the cave floor, feel the movement of the air if she took wing, or simply rely upon my keenly honed instincts.
Howe’er, another thought sprang to mind: in the earlier assault upon the southern gate, the enemy had seemed shrouded beneath some concealing magic. Yet, with a moment’s concentration, I had managed to pierce the veil and see them. I concentrated again, focusing all my thoughts upon my need to see the Avatar.
And then I did. As with the earlier attacking troops, she was shrouded and half-visible, but still plainly there. She had prudently already moved from her prior position, slowly and carefully moving to my flank. Not the obvious strike from directly behind, which I might have anticipated, but at an angle I would be hard pressed to predict. I hid my smile and continued blindly looking about as though I had not seen her. “Invisibility? An amateur’s trick, Bright. Strike me, if you can. I will hear you long before your blow lands.”
The Avatar did not rise to my bait, remaining perfectly silent. So silent, in fact, that I wondered if she might be using magic for that purpose as well. (3) Once she had obtained the field position she desired she struck swiftly and without warning, charging forward and leveling her lance so that ‘twould pierce through my heart and both lungs, using her magic to subtly adjust her aim as she closed with me.
3: Silence spells work by creating a barrier sound cannot penetrate, so any spell that would completely cut off any sound she might make would also deafen her to anything outside the spell’s area of effect. Whether the Avatar would have judged that a worthwhile tradeoff in this case is hard to say.
As she closed, I waited until the last possible moment before making mine own move. I wanted her fully committed to the attack, with no hope of falling back or avoiding my counterstroke. Howe’er, her speed caught me by surprise; she truly was e’en faster than she had been as a mortal. My dodge nearly came too late, and if not for my armor’s fine craftsmareship, her lance might have struck my flank properly instead of merely leaving behind a dent in the plate and bruise on the flesh beneath.
My counterstroke came in the instant after she struck me. Though her lance unbalanced me, I managed to turn much of the momentum from her strike into a swift turn that brought me within her weapon’s reach. My blades caught flame as Sunbeam’s magic within them stirred to life, and I slashed at her neck, seeking the gap where her peytral met her crinnet. While my blade struck home, she was moving too quickly for it to bite deeply ere her momentum took her past me.
She continued forward for some time, buying herself space from me and angling her lance to intercept me should I approach before bringing a hoof to her wound. ‘Twas plain I had failed to strike anything vital: had I severed an artery or her throat I would already know it. Howe’er the wound clearly pained her, and I judged it a victory. I allowed myself a faint smile and saluted her with a freshly bloodied blade. “First blood goes to me.”
Her teeth clenched and she all but growled out, “We both know that first blood is meaningless in a duel to the death. This is not some petty honor spar o’er a meaningless slight. 'Tis last blood that decides the day, and that shall be mine.”
She charged again, all subtle maneuvering cast aside in favor of raw aggression. An untrained observer might have called the attack reckless, but in truth ‘twas carefully measured aggression. Her attacks left holes in her defenses, but came so swiftly and furiously that I had not opportunity to exploit the openings. ‘Twas all I could just to survive.
Yet survive I did. Though her speed and strength seemed beyond anything a pony could naturally wield, I could match it, or was at least close enough to hold mine own. While her weapon struck several times, none of the blows connected solidly enough to pierce mine armor. Though I had to wonder what would happen if she did succeed in damaging it. Would the wound to my body pain me, or the damage to the container of my essence?
The passing thought distracted me at a critical moment, and the Avatar succeeded in capturing both my wing blades and forcing them high above my head where I could not bring them to bear against her. She then closed in, slamming her shoulder into my chest and leveling her horn at my eye. A triumphant grin flashed across her face, and a spark of energy popped off her horn. “And so it ends.”
Lightning erupted from her horn, and my eye reflexively clamped shut. Not that I expected my eyelid would be any protection ‘gainst a bolt of electricity. Howe’er, instead of striking my flesh the lightning arced away, splashing harmlessly ‘gainst my helmet and armor instead.
Of course. Sunbeam had mentioned that mine armor would absorb any magical energies directed at me.
As the Avatar stood in stunned disbelief at the failure of her attack, I took swift advantage of the opening, slamming my helm’s forehead into her muzzle. The Avatar staggered back in shock, but quickly recovered her footing. “What is this?! That is no mere talisman! How didst thou block my spell?!”
I smiled coldly as I felt the energy swirling within myself. “I did warn you that I had learned a few new tricks.” I extended a hoof towards her and with a push of will the very lightning she had unleashed upon me turned against its mistress.
The sheer impossibility of the attack seemed to catch the Avatar by surprise, and she wasted her chance to block or avoid my counterstrike. In fairness, I might have had the very same reaction to seeing a pegasus turn an alicorn’s magic ‘gainst her. The blast knocked Bright back into the cavern’s wall, and when she fell to the ground, smoke and the acrid stench of ozone drifted from her body.
I did not waste my advantage, charging in to finish her ere she could recover her wits. Howe’er, as my blade descended towards her vulnerable head she took in a sharp breath, and in the very moment my blade would have taken her head, her body dissipated into a cloud of dark blue smoke. I tried to touch my armor to the cloud and rob the magic from it, but ‘twas like ... well, like trying to capture smoke with one’s hooves.
She reformed well away from me, her lance leveled protectively ‘gainst my approach. There she reformed in a battle stance. Her eyes locked upon me, glaring with such intense hatred that ‘twas nearly a physical force. For a moment I felt a strange sort of pressure upon my thoughts, but then my helmet warmed and the pressure instantly vanished. Her eyes narrowed, then focused upon mine armor. “Aaah, I see how it is. My sister has been very busy. I must say, I am impressed. She truly has outdone herself with this craftsmareship.” Her eyes flicked o’er me, and she smirked. “I confess myself disappointed. ‘Tis not the pony I must overcome, but the armor. E’en Swift could be a formidable foe wearing that.”
“Swift,” I repeated incredulously. “Come now, we both know the answer to the riddle of steel. A fine suit of armor is nothing compared to the pony who wields it. If you truly saw as much as you would have me believe, you would know that Swift would not e’en be able to use the armor as I do.” I spared a contemptuous glance for my fellow pegasus, still hiding in the stalactites rather than face his foe,
The Avatar responded by showing me her fangs. “Oh yes, I see now. He could no more use your armor than he could fight with your wings. I am surprised my sister was willing to go so far as to transform thee so. ‘Twas exceedingly clever of her, but more than a little ruthless. E’en after all the years I have known her, she can still surprise me. Has she finally realized that rulers must do unpleasant but necessary things to retain their crowns, or did she simply allow Sunbeam to bear the burden once again?” Her smile turned cold and mocking. “Or mayhaps ‘twas something far less impressive: mere weakness of character. She so feared to lose her precious champion that she would cross the line of decency to preserve thy life. How ... mundane.”
“I am sure her reasons are many, and complicated.” I flicked a wing, dismissing the matter from my mind. “Her reasons matter little to us. ‘Tis done. Perhaps ‘twas simply a matter of balance. Each side has their abomination now.”
“If that is how thou wouldst see it.” Her eyes raked o’er me. “I think we are something far grander. Thou art no alicorn, but certainly not a mere mortal either. If I am Luna’s will made flesh, then surely thou art my sister’s. A subtler sort of avatar, but she was never one to move in straight lines. She ne’er tries to win the game, she merely changes it to make her triumph inevitable.” Her lips curled up in a feral snarl. “‘Twas how she arranged mine own exile. We could have spent ages going back and forth as equal sisters, each with our own agenda. Instead, she arranged to make me hated and unloved by the common pony, until she could claim I had gone mad when I uncovered her scheme and tried to put an end to it.
“Neigh, ‘twas not I who was jealous of her,” the Avatar continued. “‘Twas she who envied me. The armies of Pegasopolis loved me far better than her. She envied the primal strength and freedom of the moon, while she was bound to the strict sun. Aye, ‘twas my freedom that made her hate me. A festering darkness in her heart that drove her to evil.”
She shook her head, then turned an almost congenial smile upon me. “But I shall settle mine accounts with her another day. For now ... I do feel the winds of destiny blowing us together. 'Tis like a siren's call that sings through my very blood. I will not face my sister until thou art slain, or agree to stand aside. That is no doubt why she put thee in thy current state.” She stepped forward, her eyes lingering on mine armor. “So how long did it take for my sister to tell thee the truth? She likes to keep her secrets, no?”
“She told me the truth as soon as I was capable of hearing it,” I answered tersely.
“Did she now?” the Avatar asked with a mocking trill. “That would be very unlike her. Mayhaps she revealed a few things thou wouldst inevitably have learned soon enough, but there is always more with her. Truths not yet revealed.”
I was ashamed to say that I suspected she might be correct in that. Though if Celestia was hiding further truths from me, ‘twas likely for good cause. She would not lie to me for no reason. Rather than linger on such uncomfortable thoughts, I turned the question back upon her. “While I am sure you are entirely honest with all your own followers. How much have you told them about why and how you were created? Do they e’en know what you truly are? Do you? What did the warlocks create from Copper’s life? Are you Bright, or the Nightmare?”
She scoffed. “That is as foolish of a question as asking whether thou art Shadow Kicker or an animate suit of armor. I am Bright Charger, yet Luna’s spirit guides and directs me now. We work together to achieve a common goal: the liberation of all ponykind from the tyranny of my foul sister. And of course, I also aim to avenge myself on those who have wronged me. ‘Twould have been wise to accept my offer of peace, Shadow. I think I shall pull the entire city, and mayhaps e’en the mountain itself down once this war is at an end. A fitting cairn for a child as perfect as my Lance, wouldst thou not agree?”
“After your death, I will see to it you are both buried with honor,” I answered levelly, ignoring her taunts. “Whate’er you might have become now, you were once a good and noble servant of Equestria. I will honor the mare that you were.”
“How arrogant,” she snarled, showing a remarkable lack of self-awareness. “Thou dost presume that thy victory will be—”
Once ‘twas plain she intended to continue speaking for some time, I made my strike. Once more, I dipped into the armor’s well of power, shutting mine own eyes ere I produced a blinding flash of bright light. The Avatar let out a surprised squawk at the sudden interruption, and I closed in.
While she might have been blinded, she was no fool. She lashed about with her lance, hoping to at least slow my approach enough to buy her eyes time to recover. Howe’er, I simply accepted a blow to the head from the side of her lance, the strike glancing off my helmet without e’en causing significant pain. I followed with a wing blade strike that reduced her weapon to kindling, then struck at the mare herself.
Her vision must have somewhat recovered, because she succeeded in catching my attack with one of her armored hooves. Howe’er, rather than stop my wing blade, that merely altered its course, and instead of taking her head I got a long furrow along her barrel, my red hot blade parting her armor like a knife through butter.
The Avatar let out an ear-piercing shriek as the smell of her sizzling flesh assaulted my nostrils, and one of her hooves lashed out in a desperate strike. The blow slammed into my chest, feeling more akin to the impact of a battering ram than a mere hoof. I fell away from her, raising my blades defensively to ward off another strike.
Howe’er, further assaults were not her intention. Instead she used the momentum of her strike against me to add further force as she flapped her wings, gaining distance from me once more. Her reasons were plain enough as her armor lit up with a blood red glow, then shifted aside to reveal the wound. ‘Twas a long, ugly thing, the flesh bright red from the freshly inflicted burns my blades had left behind. I could e’en see specks of molten metal from her ruined armor resting within the flesh itself.
She turned back to me, attempting a haughty smile that was somewhat ruined by the way she favored her freshly wounded side. “I have uncovered a flaw with thy weapons, Shadow. They cauterize the wounds they cause, rather than allow the blood to flow freely. Thou wilt not slay me the same way twice.”
I answered with a cold smile. “As with your own statements, ‘twas plain that your first death proved ineffective. Far better to slay you differently, and more thoroughly.” I readied my blades and resumed my approach. “Face me, then. Let us learn how you will die today.”
“I think not.” She drew herself to her full height, but did not ready her defenses. “I am disarmed and wounded. I cannot deny that you have won the advantage in this match. ‘Twould seem my sister gave thee some nasty surprises. Surprises thou hast now revealed and will not be able to use a second time.” She smirked and ran a hoof o’er her wounded side. “My wounds will heal far faster than my sister can forge new armor equal to what thou wearest now. If she could e’en replicate the feat at all.”
“You would flee a righteous duel?” I challenged. “Before all your soldiers? Do so then, and show yourself an honorless coward.”
“What righteousness, when thou art clearly wielding powers no ordinary pegasus could? Plainly thou art violating the terms of our engagement.” She shrugged, brushing aside my words. “There is one secret that I learned long ago that most of thy kin are far too honor-bound to e’er grasp. Sometimes one must make a tactical retreat today so that they may gain victory tomorrow. Why allow thee to slay me today when my victory is so near?”
I scoffed at her. “Is that what you will tell yourself as your forces fall back, demoralized by your cowardice? You will lose all you have gained today.”
“Take thy sundered wall back, if it pleases thee,” she answered with an uncaring wave. “Which of our armies owns a few tunnels changes nothing. Someday soon, I will strike thee down, sack Canterlot, and defeat my sister. Know that thy last opportunity to prevent it passed when thou didst refuse my generous offer. Your seeming victory today merely delays your own doom.”
Once more the Avatar transformed to mist and smoke, but this time she fled the field rather than reposition herself. Swift, spotting her withdrawal, wasted no time in further displaying the cowardice he had already shown by hiding from Greenwall and followed her example.
Hidden was slower to withdraw, though mayhaps that was on account of the riotous illusion covering his area of the battlefield. When he abandoned his duel and his spells faded, it revealed a score of shattered skeletons in full battle gear, the charred remnants of a tentacled horror, and several acolytes who seemed to have fallen o’er dead on the sidelines of the battle. Sunbeam stood triumphant on the dueling ground, her mane in disarray, her cloak a shredded mess, and sporting a dozen superficial but undoubtedly painful wounds. Though ‘twas hard to judge when she was covered in a good deal of soot, and undoubtedly not all of the blood I saw upon her was her own.
The rebels forces milled about in disarray, undoubtedly surprised by their leaders’ sudden turn to cowardice. I was quick to seize the moment. “Soldiers of rebellion! Thy leaders have shown themselves as cowards without honor. If thou wouldst serve with a noble army, then join us. Otherwise, show more honor than them, and withdraw from the field. I grant safe conduct and an hour’s truce to any who would depart from the Southern Gates. Use this time wisely, for at the hour’s end we will be enemies once more.”
After several moments of hesitation, the mass of rebel soldiers began to shift. To my immense relief, they began exiting the gates, heading back to their own battle camp. Had they discarded all sense of decency, they might well have managed to slay us by sheer weight of numbers. Howe’er, not all went as I had hoped. They might not have turned on us, but neither did any of the rebels come o’er to our side.
Sunbeam approached me, a vicious scowl on her lips. “They made their escape. We barely avoided a disaster that would have slain us all, and we have nothing to show for it. Not e’en Swift Blade was cut down.”
“Hard to kill him when he ran as soon as I got one good hit in,” Greenwall grunted out. “Short duel. Easy too. I suffered no wounds.” He pointedly looked to each of us in turn. “Suppose that makes me the best duelist here.”
“Perhaps it does, at that,” I answered with a wry grin. “Though neither of us suffered a telling wound, so thine advantage is not so great as that.”
To my surprise, Greenwall answered my jest with a skeptical frown. “That so? Surprised you are still standing.”
“What?” I glanced down at myself, and discovered a large and very deep dent in the shape of the Avatar’s hoof on my chestplate. When I attempted to take a deep breath, I discovered that ‘twas quite impossible to actually manage, and the sounds from my chest were distinctly unhealthy. Yet curiously, there was no pain.
Sunbeam hastily approached my side, her horn lighting up. “It looks far worse than it is, I am sure. As thou didst say, captain, she would not be standing if her wounds were so terrible.”
Howe’er, the moment he seemed satisfied, she turned to me, her voice dropping to a fierce whisper. “Do not remove thy helm until we are out of the public eye. I suspect her blow to thy head was badly damaging. ‘Twould be difficult to explain why thou art not dead when half thy brain spills out of thy helm.”
“I confess some curiosity on that point myself,” I rumbled.
“A useful side effect of thy current condition, ‘twould seem,” she murmured. “Thy body is merely a means of physically conveying thy true self. Damage to it is of far less consequence. Given the lack of screaming and writhing, ‘tis likely thou canst no longer feel pain. Another useful advantage, as ‘twill make the healing far easier.”
“I am glad my status as a crime against nature has made thy life slightly more convenient,” I groused, uncertainly touching my damaged plate. “How soon will I inhabit my flesh again?”
“I would not be so hasty to make the change,” Sunbeam cautioned. “Wert thou a being of flesh, the Avatar likely would have slain thee. For all thy many complaints, thine unnatural state has turned what might have been a disaster into a victory.”
It truly irked me that I could not refute her.
Author's Note
As always, thanks to my pre-reading and editing team for all their hard work. Also, I would like to thank all my dedicated Patreon supporters. You guys are awesome.
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Aidan Hall
Ascendant Shadows Interlude 2
My orders from the Avatar left me ... uneasy.
There was nothing about them that violated the established rules of war. Attacking the enemy on another front in the midst of a duel was a well-accepted practice. One could hardly demand for all fighting to cease across an entire battlefield simply because two officers fought a single duel. The bulk of both our armies likely would not even learn that a duel had been fought until after ‘twas done. Indeed, by the laws of war, a duel only required that no soldiers from either side interfere with the duel itself, nor prevent the victor from returning to their own lines.
My orders to strike deep into the tunnels and outflank the western redoubt were thus entirely valid ones, and doubtless vital to maintaining our offensive momentum after our recent victory in claiming the southern gates. If we could take the redoubt, we might well shatter the entire enemy line, allowing us to move into Canterlot itself. Victory and an end to this damnable war lay within my grasp.
If the enemy was distracted and left their flanks exposed because of a duel in another sector of the battlefield, that was entirely their own error. I would be a fool not to take advantage of such a mistake. However, I could not shake the thought that Lance might not approve of my actions.
I tried to put that worry aside as I sought out Sierra. As befit my second in the hetairoi , she was hard at work arranging the final details of the upcoming attack. At the moment, she was in the midst of a rather heated discussion with the newest addition to the hetairoi , and one I was far from enthusiastic about. However, my new understanding with Hidden Facts required a few minor concessions, and having a skilled spellcaster attached to my unit was admittedly something that might prove useful. In truth, my objection was primarily born from whom he had chosen to take up the role.
“I understand your concerns, madam,” the warlock Moonwatch declared, his voice still oozing sycophancy. “However, the great and glorious Honored Avatar of Nightmare Moon, in her infinite wisdom, allocated the bulk of our magical resources to attacks on other fronts. Capturing the southern gates already consumed much of our stockpile of fire gems, and I am afraid I simply cannot produce more with a wave of my horn.” He paused, then amended. “Well, I can craft them, but certainly not in a timely fashion for your next assault.” He chuckled as though he had told some sort of amusing jest.
Sierra glowered at the warlock, and I could all but hear her teeth grinding. “Our task is to breach enemy lines. How would you suggest we achieve that goal if you cannot provide me with the necessary tools?”
The warlock shrugged and smiled. “I am sure that the all-knowing and all-seeing incarnation of mighty Luna herself would not have assigned the attack to your unit unless she knew you had all the resources needed to achieve your goals. Thus, the only reasonable conclusion is that you are mistaken in your belief that you require fire gems to achieve your objectives. Perhaps the Avatar, in her wisdom, has realized that the enemy is less powerful than you fear.” He paused, and a hint of challenge entered his voice. “Unless you are questioning the Avatar’s orders?”
“Of course not,” Sierra grunted, her eyes and mouth twitching as she visibly strained to remain civil. “Just trying to execute them to the best of my abilities. Which requires having weapons like fire gems.”
“Evidently not,” Moonwatch countered, “Otherwise, the Avatar would not have ordered an attack when no fire gems were available.”
The truth was far less pleasant than Moonwatch cared to believe. I was young and relatively new to command, but e’en I knew that sometimes soldiers had to make do with what they had, rather than what was needed. Our ongoing problems with guerillas had certainly forced us to make a few improvisations when needed supplies ran short. Waiting until we had more fire gems available would give the enemy time to recover and reorder their battle lines. We had to attack now to maintain offensive momentum, even if it meant trying to break through a pike line by brute force.
I remembered one of my father’s sayings, which seemed grimly appropriate for our current situation: sometimes one must trade blood for victory. Moonwatch was right that fire gems were not required to break a pike line, but in the narrow tunnels, any other method would come at a steep price. Though I suppose still a worthwhile one, if it could deliver victory in the greater battle for Canterlot.
I pointedly cleared my throat, drawing their attention. “Do whate’er you can, Moonwatch. I am sure that the Avatar, my mother , expects us to be capable of organizing an attack without asking her to see to every minor detail herself.”
Moonwatch smiled and nodded, his voice veritably oozing with obsequiousness. “Ah, you raise a valid point, Prince Dusk.” Were I not so shocked by being declared a prince, I might have objected to the title foisted upon me. “I will do what I can to find more fire gems. By your leave...” Without another word, the warlock offered me a short bow, then turned his back to me, trotting deeper into the encampment.
As the warlock departed, Sierra—with what appeared to be a considerable effort—composed herself and strode to my side. She smirked and nudged me in the shoulder. “Will you require anything else, my most exalted prince of Pegasopolis? Perhaps a silk pillow to sit upon while you conduct the attack? Servants to fan you and feed you grapes? Or mayhaps some strong stallions to carry you into battle so you will not need to sully your royal hooves with common dirt.” Evidently, she had chosen to dispel her foul mood by making a target of me.
I rolled my eyes and endeavoured to return the mockery in kind. “Neigh, though I would like the soft touch of a mare in bed once the battle is done. Wouldst thou know where I might find a comely mare? None are in evidence within my sight.”
Sierra’s answering smile was dry as a desert. “If I were not a married mare, I would find some way to make you deeply regret that remark. Though as it stands there is little reason to concern myself with the matter. I think that if thou sought the company of another mare, Gale would not hesitate to kill thee in thy sleep.”
I frowned at that. “Such an action would be quite jealous for a mare who continues to refuse my advances whenever I make them. Surely if she will not accept my affections, I am free to seek other mares.” After the kiss we had shared yesterday, I had dared to hope that she might have thawed towards me. Sadly, she had made it quite clear that she was not amenable to further gestures of affection at this time.
Sierra chuckled and shook her head. “Thou truly dost know nothing of mares if thou thinkest that. Just because she refuses thine advances does not mean others are allowed to have thee. Thou hast already begun the grand game of courtship with her. She has claimed thee.”
I frowned, not caring for that choice of words. “As fine a mare as Gale is, I am hardly owned by her. Or anypony, for that matter.”
Sierra grinned and gave me a mocking pat on the shoulder. “Thou wilt learn the rules of such things in due time, sweet prince. I am sure Gale is already plotting how best to educate thee into being a proper husband.” She smiled with entirely false innocence. “Perhaps after the battle I can give her some advice on the matter.”
I glowered balefully at her. “Thou art an evil, wicked mare, Sierra. What have I done to deserve such a cruel fate?”
Sierra cupped my cheek, her tone still teasing. “Oh thou poor, ignorant stallion.” She chuckled to herself, then reluctantly shook her head. “Alas, we cannot spend all our time with such light concerns. The sooner the battle is done, the sooner I might return thee to thy mistress. I believe we have everything needed to launch the attack, fire gems aside.”
I grimaced and nodded. “Hopefully we will not need them. If fortune favors us, the enemy lines will be in such disarray that we can find an unguarded approach. E’en if we cannot, 'tis possible the morale of Celestia’s forces might finally have been broken by our recent victories. Especially if—when the Avatar cuts Shadow down in their duel.”
“Both those things are possible, yes,” Sierra readily conceded, though she still wore a frown. “However, I would still prefer to have enough fire gems to break a pike wall.”
“So would I.” I put on the most confident smile I could manage. “As I would prefer twenty times as many soldiers, all battle-hardened veterans, and equipped with the best gear our smiths and enchanters can conjure. Alas, we must make do with the resources we have, not what we wish we had. We have won battles and broken pike lines in the past without fire gems; if need be we can manage the task again.”
She sighed and reluctantly nodded. “I suppose thou art correct. In that case, there is one other matter I would bring to thine attention. Though this is as much a personal affair as one related to the attack itself.”
She pointed to the side, drawing my eyes to Dawn. I was quite surprised to see her not only outside the medical tents, but also in full combat gear—albeit also festooned with a substantial stockpile of bandages, potions, and other medical equipment (1).
1: While both sides in the Rebellion generally tried to avoid killing medics, both for moral and practical reasons (as the Geneighva Accords would not be created for several centuries), medics in combat zones were still generally expected to operate as soldiers in all ways.
I frowned as I realized she would be accompanying us to the frontlines. I suppose ‘twas prudent, as we would be operating far forward and in no condition to transport our wounded back to the medical tents. Though I would have preferred that I bring a different medic so close to danger. “She will remain well to the rear of any battles we fight.”
“As thou sayest,” Sierra readily agreed. “I merely thought it prudent to ask if ‘twould be a problem that she will be on our battlefield. ‘Twould be quite understandable if thy sister’s presence unsettled thee, given the circumstances.”
I could hardly deny that it did. I had already lost two siblings to this war, and would have much preferred that Dawn remain as far away from the fighting as could be managed. However... “I cannot say that I care for having her with us, but what am I to do ?” I shrugged helplessly. “If I order her to another unit without good cause, she will be humiliated. All the army would whisper that I doubt her abilities and do not think her worthy of a place within the hetairoi .” Damnable Swift had already claimed she was incompetent, if not disloyal on account of her Kicker sire. I would not do anything to lend credence to such rumors.
Sierra held my gaze for some time, then slowly nodded. “With that matter resolved, it seems all is in readiness.”
I glanced about, and noted one absence. “Moonwatch has not returned from his errand.”
She smirked. “Allow me to amend: everything that matters is in readiness.”
I returned her grin with one of my own. “Ah, I see. I suppose we should launch our attack as quickly as possible, lest the enemy recover and seal the holes in their defenses. A pity we could not afford to wait for our magus liaison, but...”
“Yes, quite the pity,” she agreed. “Now let us hurry and march before he returns.”
As was so often the case, the march to the frontlines combined tedium and terror in equal measure. Marching is an inherently boring activity, especially when we had to avoid speaking to maintain at least a modicum of stealth. Voices can carry surprisingly far within tunnels. However, we could never allow ourselves to grow complacent, lest the enemy discover us with our guard lowered. A single mistake on my part could lead mine attack force into an ambush.
Thankfully, it appeared that fortune favored me this day. Or more likely, the enemy was still in disarray from our initial breakthrough at the southern gates. It would take them some time to post new sentries to cover every single point of vulnerability. All I needed to do was seize a good defensive position along an open route, and the Avatar’s army could drive a spear deep into the heart of Celestia’s forces.
An end to the war. ‘Twas curious to consider that today might mark the final chapter in months of death and bloodshed. I could not help but wonder what Lance would think of this, were she still alive. My sister, who dreamed in her last days of negotiating terms with Celestia’s loyalists. Would she have still held to that belief now, when victory lay within our grasp?
I suspect she would have. Lance did not desire a negotiated peace for pragmatic reasons. That was not her way—in truth, I had always feared that she would meet her end leading a noble last stand against impossible odds. Lance would have stood to the last for a cause she truly believed to be righteous. Whate’er path she pursued, she did so with unwavering dedication if she truly believed ‘twas proper. She would have sought reasonable terms even if we held Celestia’s palace, and the queen herself was a prisoner at the tip of Mother’s spear.
What would she think of the peace that would follow the Avatar’s victory? ‘Twould certainly be a far cry from a fair, equitable settlement. Celestia would retain neither her throne nor her life. For all that Sierra teased me at the time, Moonwatch might well have been correct in naming me a prince. The Avatar would surely occupy the throne in Canterlot as soon as Celestia’s corpse had been removed from the seat, and as her son I would in fact be a prince. My mother as the Queen of Unicornia was strange to contemplate, yet ‘twould be my new reality all too soon.
What would become of me in peacetime, then? I would presumably retain my post as Captain of the Hetairoi , and perhaps be groomed to take a seat in the Ephorate in due time. Would the Avatar continue to rule from Cloudsdale, or might she be drawn to Canterlot’s prestige and central location much as Celestia was? Part of me suspected that the Avatar desired to take her sister’s throne as a point of pride and occupy the seat she felt was rightfully hers. If I was to remain leader of the hetairoi , then my place would be at her side. In Canterlot.
Then there was the matter of Gale. ‘Twas plain enough why Mother did not oppose my growing fondness for her. Mother had already once tried to persuade Gale to turn her loyalty to our cause before her capture. If Shadow perished in the upcoming duel, Gale would have the strongest claim to leadership within the clan. For all our talk of choosing our leaders based upon merit, the child of the previous leader almost always took up the role. If Celestia’s forces survived the day, they would surely try to name another to leadership of the Kickers, but such a claim would likely be received little better than our efforts to name a Kicker leader loyal to our cause.
If Celestia’s cause were truly doomed, I suspected Gale would play the part Mother intended for her. Far better to be materfamilias of a clan and wedded to a prince than to live out her days as a prisoner or fugitive. From what I had learned of the mare in speaking with her, she had no great loyalty or affection for Celestia—her loyalty lay with her mother, not the Sun Queen. Given the choice ‘tween making a martyr of herself for Celestia and reaching an accommodation with the Avatar, she would chose the latter. If nothing else, ‘twould give her a far stronger base from which to nurture any plans to avenge her mother.
I could not help but wonder if ‘twas a commentary on my character that I had become smitten with such a mare.
Though I suppose if Mother had chosen loyalty to Celestia, I would have followed her course as well. ‘Tis only natural. So long as the parent does not display grossly erroneous judgement, their children will follow.
However, that thought led to many uncomfortable places. Did I truly support the ideals behind our war, or was I merely obeying orders without thought for the morality of our cause? Was that, perhaps, why Lance had become an advocate for peace? Had she initially followed Mother’s lead only to find herself doubting the righteousness of our cause as the war progressed?
Gale’s loyalty might well have shifted if her mother perished. Would the same have happened to me if mine own mother died of her wounds rather than becoming the Avatar? When I thought Mother’s death likely, I had planned to withdraw the Chargers from the war effort. In truth I had said that partially just to spite Swift Blade, but I suspect I would have followed through on the threat all the same. The war had already taken two of my siblings from me, not to mention my mother’s fate. Perhaps I dreamed of victory this day not because I desired a grand triumph, but simply to see an end to it all.
I could hardly deny that I had mine own doubts e’er since Mother became the Avatar. Neigh, before that in truth, since she broke a truce to avenge Lance. I had followed orders like a good soldier, but in my heart I nurtured secret doubts. Doubts that had only grown as the new changes came over her, and our cause transformed from one of liberation to usurpation. If the Avatar were not my mother, would I still support the cause? Ancestors preserve me, was it possible I was fighting an unjust war out of blind loyalty to my family?
“Dusk.” I started at Sierra’s hissed whisper, ceasing my contemplations and returning my thoughts to the matter before me. Whate’er my private doubts, I was a commanding officer in the field of battle. I owed it to the soldiers under my command to do everything within my power to lead them to victory and preserve their lives.
Silent Stalker, our forward scout, stood before me. “Sir, we have a problem. There’s a group of Sol Knights up ahead.”
I hissed out several ungentlemanly words. “Can we bypass them?”
Silent shook his head. “Not without going to considerable trouble. We would have to double back for at least five minutes to find an alternate tunnel, then however long it would take to scout out that route...”
I grunted and nodded. There was no guarantee the other paths would suit us any better, especially when my scouts had already been leading us down the tunnels they thought most likely to be clear. Time was critical to our mission, and turning back would cost us a good deal of it with no guarantee that our situation would actually improve. “How many knights?”
“Perhaps a third of our numbers,” the scout answered. “But the tunnels are narrow and their pikes are long.”
I grimaced, though the news was hardly surprising. The narrow tunnels would keep me from bringing my superior numbers to bear or outflanking them. The only option would be to throw my forces onto their pikes and hope to drag them down through sheer attrition. E’en if I won, ‘twould be a victory worthy of Equirrus. (2)
2: One of the last great raider chieftains in the pre-unification days, Equirrus sought to subdue numerous earth pony communities and force them to pay tribute to his clan. While he was nominally victorious in every battle he fought against the earth ponies, the assaults on fortified communities proved so costly that his victories ruined him, and a few years later he was destroyed by a rival clan.
Not that I was inclined to give into despair too swiftly. “Wert thou detected?”
Silent all but scowled at me, plainly offended I felt such a question worth asking. “I was not.”
I followed that question with another. “How ready for battle did they seem?”
The scout paused, and his angry frown shifted to something more thoughtful. “They were hardly lackadaisical, but they were also not in a tight battle formation. I expect they could form up quickly enough once they knew they were under attack.”
“Yes,” I felt a grin tugging at the corners of my mouth. “Once they knew. But if we can take them by surprise and strike before they are in full combat formation...” I left the thought unfinished, trusting the scout to follow my idea to the logical conclusion. “What of the terrain? Is the tunnel reasonably smooth and straight?”
Silent grunted and nodded. “They probably wanted clear shots for their crossbows.”
“Or ‘twas an old mining tunnel that they dug straight to begin with.” I moved on to the next matter. “What of the light levels? How far can they see?”
Silent shook his head. “Hard to say for sure, but I only saw torches around their position. I expect they have not yet had enough time to set lights all the way down the corridor.” He paused, cocking his head to the side. “Sir, are you considering extinguishing our own lights and attacking from darkness?”
“Would such a course be viable?”
Silent thought long before answering. “As long as we reach the tunnel in good order, we should be able to march in a straight line e’en if we cannot see the stone beneath us. Howe’er, moving in darkness is ne’er an easy task, and keeping a large group of ponies moving in relatively good order would be an e’en harder undertaking. Especially when we must also remain silent lest we give away our approach.”
“Hard indeed, but not impossible,” I concluded. “If there is a unit in all Pegasopolis that can manage the task, ‘tis the hetairoi . And regardless, we have little choice but to make the attempt.” ‘Twas no doubt in my mind that if I withdrew without launching an attack Swift would accuse me of cowardice—presumably unaware of the bitter irony of him attempting to shame anyone as a coward.
I dismissed the scout and let the troops know of my plan. Though none spoke against it, I could see the doubt in their eyes. In truth, I could not blame them for their concerns. The attack was a risky endeavour with numerous potential points of failure. Our charge could become a chaotic mess in the darkness, with my soldiers tangled up and pinned down while the enemy cut us down at their leisure. Or we could lose the advantage of surprise, and find ourselves charging into a wall of spears. However, as my mother had been fond of saying, a commander who takes no risks will ne’er accomplish anything of note.
Howe’er, the hetairoi deserved some reassurance that the rewards justified the risks. I spoke as loudly as I dared, attempting to pitch my voice up the tunnel and away from the enemy. “I will not lie to you: there are dangers here. Some of you will give your lives for Pegasopolis and Equestria today. But if we break their line, our main force can use the breach to launch a strike that will tear into the very heart of Celestia’s army. This will not be an easy battle, but if we win, it may be the last battle we must fight in this war.”
My words were met with a wall of silence and grim nods, though I would like to believe that the hetairoi appreciated them. Certainly raucous cheering would have been a terrible idea when we wanted to take the enemy by surprise.
Without another word, I began the advance. Mother had always told me that ‘twas important to lead from the front, serving as an inspiring example for my soldiers. Perhaps another time when I should have questioned her wisdom. I supposed I could at least take comfort in the fact that should my attack fail, I would likely be amongst the first to die.
We moved forward in good order and relative silence. While underground tunnels are far from an ideal battlefield for the soldiers of Pegasopolis, we had acquired considerable experience in the last month. Muffling our armor and our hooves had become almost second nature after we had learned how far echoes could travel. Howe’er, the silence only made me all the more aware of every sound my soldiers made. There was a moment when I was sorely tempted to chastise Sierra for breathing too loudly. Though the sound was little more than a whisper, it sounded like a cacophony to my nervous ears.
I saw the enemy camp ahead, and as the scout had informed me, they were relaxed and unaware of our approach. Not lounging about or asleep, but not battle formation, and I could hear the low murmur of several hushed conversations. In short, they had the appearance of any group of soldiers long into guard duty. Howe’er, they wore the marks of Sol Invictus, and we had already learned—much to the disbelief and chagrin of some of our senior leaders—that the unicorn knights were nearly the equal of our own warriors. I did not doubt that they would quickly ready themselves to face us if we were detected.
Thus far, they had not seen us. For all their skill and discipline, moving into a tight formation takes time. If we could just move a bit closer, we could be upon them too quickly for them to create the pike walls that had stymied our advances in the past.
Just then, when I dared to hope I might succeed, my plan came to ruin because of the one detail I had overlooked.
A bright light suddenly emerged at the very rear of our formation, and when I glanced back by pure instinct I saw the warlock Moonwatch, his horn shining like a torch. “Prince Dusk!” the fool called out, waving a large ruby in his hoof. “I found a fire gem for you!”
I froze in utter dismay, trying to comprehend how matters could have turned against me so suddenly by the actions of a single idiotic unicorn. I had always expected that if I died in this war it would be in battle against a great magus or acclaimed knight. Not cut down because one of my own subordinates was too stupid to recognize a stealthy advance in progress.
I had at least one consolation in unfolding disaster: Moonwatch’s brightly shining light and his enthusiastic shouting ensured that every single archer among them targeted him, especially since he had helpfully informed them that killing him would remove our best hope of breaking their lines. The warlock fell to the tunnel floor, transfixed by more than a dozen crossbow bolts. To make matters worse, he fell upon the fire gem he had only just retrieved, shattering it and immolating his body.
There was only one course left open to me. “Charge!” We had to close with them before they could fully muster and move into formation. I could only pray we would make it in time.
Compared to the silence of before, the world exploded into sound. The hetairoi shouted out their clans’ battlecries as we cast stealth aside, and our armored hooves pounded against the stone as we hurled ourselves towards our foes. The enemy answered our shouts defiantly, even as their officers scrambled to put them all into position to receive our charge.
The Knights of Sol Invictus were quite likely the finest soldiers in Equestria who did not have the fortune of being born with wings. Their discipline was impeccable, and they swiftly fell into formation, readying a wall of deadly pikes.
However, I was a battle-leader of Clan Charger, leading the charge as befit my clan’s words. I found a gap in their line where one of their pikeponies had not yet taken his post and plunged into their ranks. One pike scraped off my shoulder and another brushed against my belly, but I made it through the gap in their lines. I buried my lance into the chest of one of the knights, widening the gap for the rest of the hetairoi to follow behind me.
As I plunged into the tightly packed ranks of the enemy pike wall, the very character of the battle around me changed. No longer was it a clash between two ordered formations or soldiers—the density of the enemy formation and the tightness of the tunnel walls made any maneuvering all but impossible. I could not e’en bring my lance to bear again, as the enemy were all far too close for me to employ a pole-arm. With no other weapons at my disposal, I lashed out with my armored hooves, driving the enemy back with blows more suited to a brawl than a battle.
As more of the hetairoi joined the fray, the battle only grew more chaotic. We had carried no lights with us, and many of the torches the enemy possessed were snuffed out as the mass of soldiers fought back and forth within the narrow confines of the tunnel. As the battlefield grew darker and darker, I took to shouting my clan’s words so that others might know both my position and my allegiance. Half-blind and in the midst of a roiling mass of violent ponies, it would be all too easy to mistake a friend for a foe.
In my darker moments, I often wonder if I struck down any of mine own soldiers that day.
To call it a battle conveys far too much glory to it. ‘Twas nothing more than two mobs of ponies, trapped in the dark and struggling to survive. I lashed out at any who struck me, or any I saw who either possessed a horn or lacked wings, and took blows without e’er seeing the face of the one who struck me. I had no mind for the broader battlefield or how mine own soldiers were performing; there was simply no time to think of anything beyond the enemies standing before me, and how I might survive the next few moments.
In truth, I doubt I could have led my soldiers e’en if mine own mind had been clear. Likely they were engulfed by the same battle-madness as I had been. Not to mention that with all the battlecries echoing through the tunnel, plus the constant clash of steel on steel, it would have taken a miracle for any of them to hear my commands.
I do not know how long the madness lasted. It might have been hours or only a few moments. At some point I pinned down a unicorn, slammed a hoof against his helmet until he ceased moving, and when I looked for next foe there were none to be found.
Mine awareness of the battlefield beyond what lay within striking distance of me slowly returned, and I could hear the din of battle slowly fading. A quick survey of the tunnel showed that the soldiers still standing were pegasi, and I let out a cry that was born as much from relief as triumph. “Victory! We have victory!”
As the last sounds of battle faded into silence, something new took their place. The moans and cries of the wounded. Dawn stepped o’er to one of the Knights’ few remaining fires and kindled several torches, allowing me to finally see more than a few strides beyond mine own eyes.
I think I preferred the ignorant bliss of blindness.
The tunnel had become a charnel house, bodies of both our own and the enemy stacked three deep. As the cries of the wounded reached a new pitch, I realized that many of the fallen were not dead at all. Some of our wounded had been trapped amongst the dead, or buried beneath layers of other injured. I shudder to think how many must have fallen from their wounds, only to be trampled to death as the battle raged on around them.
Dawn stared out o’er the carnage, then slowly turned to face me, her eyes hollow and her shoulders slack with despair. “Aye. This is our victory.”
After a moment where I nearly fell into melancholy, I shook my head and reminded myself of my duty. Mourning would not bring back the dead, nor heal the wounded. As leader of the hetairoi, my mind should remain fixed upon my duty. “Silent, move forward and ensure that the way is clear.” Mine eyes shifted to the first uninjured pony I could find. “Take a message back to the Avatar. Inform her that we have seized a route into the heart of Celestia’s forces and await her advance.” Finally, I raised my voice, seeking out my second. “Sierra, I want a full report on our losses and how many combat-ready soldiers we have as soon as possible.”
While my first two orders met with swift acknowledgement, utter silence greeted the last. As the seconds stretched out, sickening dread settled into the pit of my stomach. “Sierra?”
Dawn’s voice answered me. “She is o’er here, Dusk.” My terror redoubled, for there could only be one reason my sister the chirurgeon was speaking for her. A moment later, she confirmed my worst fears. “Make haste.”
I rushed to my sister’s side, and found her crouching next to the mare who had been my strong right hoof from the beginning of the war. Now, Sierra lay helpless on the cavern floor as my sister wrapped a bandage ‘round her chest. A bandage that was already turning bright red with fresh blood.
I buried my fears and forced a smile onto my face. “Thou wilt be well, Sierra. There is no finer chirurgeon in Pegasopolis than my sister. I am sure thy wounds shall be mended, and thou shalt stand at my side again ere the day is out.”
My wingmare slowly shook her head, then coughed weakly. I saw pink, frothy blood on her lips ere she wiped them. “Always the fool, Dusk. E’en now. I fear this will be my last battle.”
“Neigh,” I stubbornly refuted her. “Thou art far too strong a mare to...” I could not e’en bring myself to finish the sentence, instead turning to my sister for support. “Dawn, tell her that she will make a full recovery.”
Dawn stared at me for a long moment, then gently squeezed my shoulder. “I have done what I can to make her comfortable, but now I must see to my other patients. Stay with her if thou canst, brother.”
“Stay with her?” I repeated incredulously, snatching one of her wings ere she could depart. “Why should I remain with her while thou dost go? I am no chirurgeon, or otherwise trained in the medical arts. What can I do for her?”
Dawn met my gaze levelly, not resisting my hold upon her. “Thou canst comfort her in her final hours. I have done all I can for her, but there are others I may yet save. Please release me so that I might do so.”
“Her final—” I snarled and furiously shook my head. “No! She is not going to die! I will not allow it. Thou art a chirurgeon! ‘Tis thy duty to save her life! Now see to it.”
Dawn said nothing, instead reaching up and lightly tapping my elbow. Suddenly my entire foreleg went numb, releasing my hold upon her. “I am sorry, Dusk, but there is nothing more I can do for her. I share thy pain, but I cannot allow it to keep from my duty. I only hope I can save others from death’s embrace.”
Powerless to stop her departure by force, I instead resorted to words. “Dawn, please...” I desperately cast about for an idea to save Sierra’s life. “Is it ... ‘tis a matter of lost blood? I can give her as much as she requires, if that is the case.”
My sister resolutely shook her head. “In all likelihood, that would not only kill her faster, but put thee in danger as well. The body rarely reacts well to the presence of another’s blood. And e’en if the both of thee survived the procedure itself, thy blood would spill from her wounds as quickly as her own blood does.”
“But...” I wracked my mind for any other way to preserve my friend’s life, but I could find nothing. I suspect that if Hidden Facts had approached me in that moment, I might been tempted to allow him to do to Sierra as he had done to my mother. “Dawn, please! She has a daughter!”
Dawn’s shoulders slumped, and her head hung low. Her voice came out as a tiny, almost broken whisper. “I know.” Without another word, she moved on to her next patient.
At a loss for anything else to do, I took one of Sierra’s hooves and waited. Mayhaps once the main force arrived they would be able to restore her. Dawn, for all her skill, was but a single pony with limited supplies. I clung desperately to that hope, for the only alternative was unthinkable. I could not accept that Sierra was going to die.
I gently squeezed her hoof. “Thou must live, old friend. The war may well end this very day. We have not come so far together to be parted at this late date. Think upon it: tomorrow thou canst finally see thy husband again and reunite thy sundered family. This madness of civil war will be done, and the natural order restored. Thou canst not have survived so much else only to fall when we have nearly restored all that was lost. Thou must live, for the sake of thy child and thy beloved husband. What point is there to this victory if I cannot restore thy family to thee, my friend?”
I slumped down against the tunnel wall, clinging to her as if she were my lifeline. “‘Tis far too late for mine own family. E’en if we win the day with no more losses, there are holes within our hearts that can never heal—Lance, Thunder, and what their deaths have done to my mother. The thing she became to avenge them! I wish I could believe that the Avatar took her flesh against her will, but I cannot deny the truth so plainly before me. There is too much of my mother within the Avatar. Given the choice between dying with her honor or casting it aside to claim her vengeance, she has chosen the latter.”
I rubbed at mine eyes with my free hoof. “Mother ... I hope history does not forget the mare she was before this. A good and honorable mare, one of the best Equestria has e’er seen. A mare who turned her strength to the defense of the helpless, and taught her children that ‘twas our duty to do the same. I think that is why she joined the war against Celestia—because she refused to stand and fight in defense of her subjects when the gryphon reivers attacked so many months ago.” I sighed and shook my head. “Mayhaps her refusal ‘twas part of some larger plan to make them safe, but Mother ... her passion often drove her to tend to immediate problems. She would ne’er tolerate a minor wrong just because it might allow a greater one to be undone, or because ‘twas tactically unwise. All evils must be opposed, and if fighting lesser ills allows a greater threat to arise, then she would charge forward to cut that one down too. ‘Twas ... a degree of certainty, I suppose. Absolute confidence in the righteousness of her cause.”
“Now Lance...” I trailed off, mine eyes misting as I thought of my sister. “She inherited that drive to do right, but not Mother’s absolute certainty in herself. She questioned and doubted, and perhaps ‘twas better that she did. It gave her a sort of wisdom which I think Mother never found. Or mayhaps Mother just hid her own concerns far better.” I slowly nodded to myself as my thoughts coalesced. “Aye, I think that more likely. Mayhaps as Lance confided her fears to me, Mother spoke to Aunt Brave. When Brave passed, Mother was beside herself with grief for months afterwards, as though she lost a part of herself. A pain I know all too well, now.”
“Then we come to Thunder.” I spared a quick glance for Sierra, confirming that she still lived. “My foolish little brother who dared to challenge a foe far beyond him. He was always like that. Bold and brash to the point of arrogance, with a young stallion’s utter certainty in his own immortality.” I chuckled weakly as I recalled one of many memories. “He and Flash always wanted to spar against Lance and I, e’en though we were both older and more experienced. Each defeat only seemed to fire their determination further. I heard it said once that Mother was much the same in her youth, ere time and experience tempered her passions.” I sighed, my shoulders slumping. “I suppose we shall ne’er know if they would have grown as she did. Now Thunder is dead, and Flash seems broken by the loss of his other half.”
A cry of pain briefly stole my attention, and I glanced at Dawn as she tended another patient. “Then we come to my dearest sister. Dawn was made to be a healer, not a soldier on the field of battle. ‘Twas unfair of me to demand so much of her, as if she would not tend thee to the best of her skills. I fear that every life she cannot save will haunt her, as I know Lance’s passing does.” I saw her head hang low as her patient breathed his last. “I can see the pain of it in her every step. Pain made all the keener by Swift’s damned campaign of whispers against her. It eats at her very soul to hear it said that she failed to preserve Lance’s life through incompetence, let alone the treason Swift so subtly hints at by mentioning her Kicker sire so often. I pray the day comes when I can strike him down for all his many crimes.”
I turned back to Sierra, meeting and holding her eyes. “Now dost thou see, my friend? I must preserve thy family. I fear mine own is shattered beyond repair, but ‘tis not too late for me to save thine. And...” A tremble passed down my spine as I confessed the final truth. “I ... I cannot continue this war without thee. I am not a leader, as my sister was. ‘Twas always Lance’s destiny to inherit the clan, while I would serve at her right hoof. An advisor and trusted second, but not a leader in mine own right. I could not have lead the hetairoi half so well without thee, nor stood ‘gainst Swift and the corruption he represents. Please, do not leave me, for I cannot do this on mine own! I ... I lack the strength for it.”
Though Sierra said nothing, I felt her hold upon my hoof tighten, and a ghost of a smile played across her lips. E’en though no words were said, I grasped the message she wished to convey. Likely if the words would not have pained her so badly she would have called me a fool once more, and told me to cease being so maudlin and wallowing in self-pity. She had always been one to speak her mind, and quite bluntly when she felt ‘twas required, regardless of the fact that I was technically her superior.
Finally she spoke, her words wet with pain. “Dusk. My daughter. Make sure she ... goes ... Stalwart.”
I growled and stubbornly shook my head. “Neigh. Do not speak of such things. Thou wilt be reunited with her soon enough. Thou art lucky, in a way. Thou wilt have much time to spend with her and thy husband both as thy wounds mend. I shall likely be stuck putting out a dozen small brushfires and stamping out the last pockets of resistance to the Avatar’s rule while thou dost enjoy the peace we fought for.”
Once more she said nothing to me, but the sorrow in her eyes was statement enough. I do not know how long we remained together in silence before the messenger arrived.
“Dusk.” I started in surprise as Flash’s voice tore my attention away from Sierra. My brother had clearly seen better days, his armor damaged and his face sporting several fresh bruises. His ears lay flat against his skull, and his shoulders were slumped low. “I ... come bearing news from Mother. You are to withdraw at once.”
I could scarcely credit his words. “Withdraw?! But we have opened a line to strike into the very heart of the enemy!”
“Aye,” Flash agreed, “but the army is in no state to exploit it. Through fell trickery, Shadow has succeeded in reclaiming the southern gates from us. We cannot bring soldiers forward to your position—not in sufficient numbers to accomplish anything. If you do not withdraw at once, you are in grave danger of being surrounded by enemy forces.”
“But...” my gaze travelled to the numerous hetairoi who had given their lives to take this position. Ponies who had made that sacrifice believing that ‘twould bring a decisive victory and put an end to the war. Yet if what my brother said was true, they would all have died for nothing. Taking a position, only to abandon it because of defeats elsewhere on the battlefield. “Was all of this for nothing? All this death...”
“Dusk,” My brother’s voice was surprisingly firm and commanding. “Brother, you must focus on the matters before you. Mourn the dead later, for now you must preserve what remains of your command. Order the withdrawal.”
I shook my head, trying to restore my wounded mind to order. Flash was right. I had my duty. “Dawn, how swiftly can we prepare the wounded for transport?” I called, turning back to look at her.
My sister looked up from her current patient, her eyes wide as she stared at me. “Prepare them for transport? Art thou mad?! We have no litters to bear them upon, and e’en if we did, half of them would likely die from the strain of being moved. Not to mention it takes at least two healthy soldiers to bear a litter, with four being preferable. E’en if we had the supplies, we lack the needed numbers to move them.”
I turned to order Flash to go back to the main force and request aid, but the words died upon my lips. I knew all too well what the answer would be. By the time Flash could return to the main force and organize a relief expedition, we would already have been o’erwhelmed by Celestia’s soldiers. In all likelihood, the Avatar and Swift would refuse to e’en authorize such a venture. ‘Twould only sacrifice more soldiers and chirurgeons in a lost cause.
I knew all too well what the proper answer was, yet I could not bring myself to speak it. Not when I sat next to Sierra, holding one of her hooves. After a long silence, Flash spoke the dreaded words. “Then you have no choice. Those who cannot travel unaided must be left behind. Otherwise, the entire hetairoi will be captured.”
‘Twas the only rational choice, yet my heart instinctively rebelled against it. To lead so many of my soldiers to a pointless death, then abandon so many of the survivors was simply ... wrong. I could no more abandon Sierra in her hour of need than I could chop of mine own right leg.
Dawn, having overheard my brother’s suggestion, stood tall and nodded to herself. “So be it. I shall remain here and tend to them until Celestia’s forces arrive.”
“That is madness,” Flash growled.
For once, my brother and I were in total agreement. “Hast thou taken leave of thy senses, sister?!” I bellowed at her. “They will capture thee as well.”
“I am aware,” Dawn answered calmly, holding her shoulders firm. “But I am a chirurgeon, and they are my patients. I will not—I cannot abandon them. A chirurgeon’s skills are valued, so I expect I will be treated well so long as I agree to treat the wounds of Celestia’s forces as well.” She paused, and a bitter smile twisted her lips. “And ‘tis well known that I am half a Kicker by blood. That will afford me more protection than most.”
“I forbid it,” I snarled. “I will not lose thee to the enemy. As thine elder and thy superior officer, I order thee to—”
Dawn sighed and shook her head. “Brother, I am about to be taken prisoner by a hostile army. I think under the circumstances, a charge of insubordination is the least of my worries. I will remain here unless thou dost use force to remove me.” Her eyes narrowed. “And that will not be an easy task.”
I looked between Dawn, Sierra, and mine own wounded soldiers. I knew my sister would not be swayed from her course. E’en if I succeeded in forcing her departure, she would likely ne’er forgive me for it. Nor would I forgive myself for not standing watch o’er Sierra. Though I would not accept that she might die, I also could not bring myself to leave my death watch at her side. There was only one solution. “Flash, I am appointing thee as temporary acting commander of the hetairoi . Take all those who are fit to travel and withdraw them from the battlefield ere the enemy encircles us.”
My brother blinked in shock. “Dusk, you ... you are...”
“I am.” I confirmed. “A commanding officer should not abandon their soldiers in the field. If so many of the hetairoi must be left behind, then my fate shall be the same as theirs.”
Sierra jolted at my words, squeezing my hoof almost painfully hard. “No. Dusk, you ... you must ... the army needs—”
“Peace,” I murmured, gently placing a restraining hoof upon her lest she worsen her wounds with her exertions. “I know what the army needs. But my soldiers need me more. If I cannot be loyal to them, I do not deserve the army’s loyalty.”
Besides, I thought with a bitter twist of resentment, if I did withdraw while leaving so many of the hetairoi to be captured, Swift would no doubt use it to label me a coward and further undermine what little authority I still retained. Indeed, I would likely be lucky to spend the rest of this war locked inside a stockade.
Flash stared at me for several long moments, stiff in shock. “Dusk ... you are certain that you wish to pursue this course?”
“I am.” I squeezed Sierra’s hoof once more.
Flash’s head hung low for several moments, then he nodded to himself. “So be it, then. And ... fare you well, brother.” Another silent moment hung between us, and then he took charge of what little remained of the hetairoi after the final battle I had so foolishly led them into.
Sierra still stubbornly clung to life when Celestia’s forces arrived to accept our surrender. To my immense relief, a unicorn chirurgeon was amongst their number, and at Dawn’s urging he made his way to Sierra’s side. I dared to hope that magic might accomplish what my sister’s skill could not and save my friend’s life.
As the unicorn applied his magic, I searched the enemy ranks until I finally found a red-armored pegasus. “Pony of Clan Kicker, I would ask a boon of you. Sierra Doo, wife of Stalwart Kicker, is amongst our number and gravely wounded. I ask that her husband be informed of her presence here at once. He should be here if she...” E’en then, I could not bring myself to say the words. “... he should be here.”
The Kicker’s face fell at my words, and his voice was surprisingly subdued. “I ... I understand. Might I speak with her?”
I saw little point in such a visit, but arguing the matter would likely consume more time than the visit itself. I quickly led the Kicker to her side. “Sierra, I have news of Stalwart.”
My friend’s eyes turned hopefully to the Kicker at my side, but rather than confirm her identity and rush to find her husband, he sighed heavily and slowly removed his helmet. When the Kicker spoke, his words struck me like a hammer. “Madam, I ... I regret that I must inform you that Sergeant Stalwart Kicker perished in the fighting at the southern gates. It is said he acquitted himself heroically, saving the life of Honored Shadow herself before he—”
“No!” Sierra choked out, fresh blood coating her lips as tears gathered in her eyes. “He can’t ... not both of us! Not ... both .. of us. Astra...” Her eyes slowly closed, and she slumped against the cavern floor.
My friend died of her wounds less than a minute later.
Author's Note
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Aidan Hall
My wounds—or perhaps ‘twas more accurate to call them the damage to my flesh—prevented me from partaking in the post-battle festivities. Some would call it a victory celebration, but I saw no victory in it. We had not beaten or broken the rebel army; we had merely survived their assault. Though I suspect many of the soldiers were well aware of that fact. Mayhaps for them, ‘twas enough that we had not fallen today.
I recall nothing of the actual healing. Sunbeam would later explain that she deadened my senses and stilled my body, that she might repair the damage without disturbance from me. If I were to be restored to my true self in the future, my flesh would need to be as intact as possible. I have seen what comes of a poorly healed head wound, and I do not think I could bring myself to leave my current prison if I knew that I would be a simpleton upon returning to my body. I would sooner lose all my limbs than my mind.
When I regained my senses ‘twas late into the night, and I lay in mine own bed. Howe’er, I could see little of my room, for Midnight Sparkle’s face dominated my vision. She stood at my bedside, her eyes locked upon mine own. I started back from her in surprise, though drowsiness and the bedcovers kept me from moving more than a few inches.
I met her gaze, and she blinked slowly. “Ah. Are you awake, or merely sleeping with your eyes open? I have heard that some ponies can do that. ‘Tis often attributed to powerful magi, though I suspect ‘tis an unfounded rumor since that is not the case with Mother.”
“I am awake.” I groaned and stretched all my limbs, ensuring that all of them functioned as they should.
The child nodded. “Ah, good then.” She rose up from my bed, where she had been kneeling beside me whilst I slept. “Mother has informed me ‘tis rude to wake a pony in the late hours, and while I had no wish to offend, I also had important matters I wished to discuss with you. I was worried I would have to wait all night for you to awaken.” She lit a candle, driving back the darkness of my room. “Now that you have finally awoken, we may begin.”
I grumbled and ran a hoof down my face. No doubt the child had taken her mother’s etiquette lesson in the most literal manner possible. Sunbeam had made no mention that ‘twas rude to enter a room uninvited and stare at a sleeper until they woke, so Midnight had presumed such behavior was acceptable. In truth, I was not e’en entirely upset by her presence, for all that I did not care to be woken in such an unconventional manner. At some point, young Midnight’s oddities had become less irksome, and more ... charmingly eccentric.
Howe’er charming her oddities, that did not change the situation, or mine own responsibilities. “How late is the hour? Does thy mother know where thou art?”
“‘Tis the hour of the wolf,” she answered dutifully. (1) “And Mother probably thinks I am asleep in my bed, though I cannot say for certain as she was resting when I left.”
1: An archaic term for the time of night shortly before dawn, roughly 3:00-5:00 AM
I sighed patiently. “Shouldst thou not be there, then? Such a late hour is hardly a proper time for young fillies to be wandering about unescorted, especially in a city under siege. ‘Twould be far better if thou wert abed.” Especially as I would know no rest either so long as the child was present, given her seemingly insatiable curiosity and utter ignorance of what constituted socially acceptable behavior.
Midnight cocked her head to the side. “Mother was tired and asleep, while I could not find any rest. I thought to read, but no books could hold my interest and I feared that the light from my candles might disturb her. She can be somewhat irate when woken in the wee hours.”
Sunbeam was not alone in that trait, though for the moment I held my patience and attempted to indulge the child. “And why couldst thou not sleep?”
She yawned, and I noted a slight bleariness in her eyes. “My sleep has been troubled of late. Dreams come frequently and are rarely pleasant.” She turned back to me, her eyes narrowing. “You should know that Nightmare Moon hates you. Fiercely.”
I could not help but wonder how young Midnight knew the Nightmare’s thoughts upon me. Twice the child had predicted the Nightmare’s arrival, during the wedding and then again at the attack upon the walls. ‘Twas suspicious to say the least, though I was hesitant to question Midnight too sternly at this late hour and in my half-awake state, I would have words with her mother on the matter later. For now... “The Avatar made her hatred of me quite clear when we battled. She still blames me for Lance's fate.”
“And now you have defeated her in battle.” The child frowned. “That will not make her like you any better. Next time will not be so easy.”
“I expect not, but I survived today. For now, that will suffice.” I did not doubt that the Avatar would be a far more dangerous foe when next we met, but I fully intended to familiarize myself with all that mine armor could do in the interim. I expected there were other capabilities within it that I had yet to tap.
She stared up at me, her eyes slightly out of synch as she blinked. “I see. A question, then: are we going to lose this war?”
A troubling question. We had come perilously close to a final defeat after the southern gate fell. I had no doubt we would have fought on for some time, but if the pegasi could break out of the tunnels that restricted their flight, they would have us at a severe disadvantage. Midnight was no simple child easily fooled by empty platitudes, so I answered her honestly while holding to what optimism I could. “I have no intention of losing.”
“I see.” She fell silent for so long that I wondered if she was lost within her own thoughts, only for her to suddenly announce, “Mother has been making contigengries—conticancies—” she scowled furiously, as though the word that so troubled her had done her some grave personal wrong. “Plans for her course of action if we are defeated. Seeking a way to escape the city and Equestria itself, then continue the war. She would not do so if defeat were not a possibility.”
That did not surprise me. If anything, I was surprised she had not approached me on the topic, though mayhaps ‘twas only because an opportunity to broach the subject had not yet presented itself. Or perhaps not. I do not know if I could bring myself to leave Canterlot, Celestia, and the bulk of my clan behind, even if ‘twas the only way to continue the struggle. Honor and obligation bound me to the city—I would either win the war here or perish in the attempt.
Howe’er, such words were unlikely to calm young Midnight’s fears. “Thy mother believes in planning for all possibilities, howe'er remote.”
“Aye, that is true.” She frowned, her tone musing. “Though I do not like the idea of becoming a rebel, off hiding in the woods. The woods are full of dirt and bugs, and there are no heated baths which I might use to cleanse myself. One of her plans involves working alongside Mossy Banks. He lives in a swamp. In other words, a forest with mud and slime instead of dirt, and humidity that would make it harder to maintain my books and scrolls. I cannot imagine why a pony would choose to live in such a foul place.”
If not for the fact that it likely would have offended her, I would have chuckled at her childish priorities. “I would not care to see thee subjected to such a fate either. Which is why I shall win this war to protect thee.”
“I would appreciate it if that can be done.” A flicker of concern passed across her normally stoic face. “Though do be careful. Your next fight with Nightmare Moon’s avatar will be worse than the first clash. Much, much worse.”
I frowned and risked a probing question. “How dost thou know so much of it? Thou wert not present for the battle itself, and thy mother was likely too occupied with her own conflict to witness my clash with her.”
She froze, and for a moment her expression reminded me of that worn by any child caught doing something they knew went against their parent’s wishes. She quickly recovered, her face falling back to a neutral mask. “‘Tis only logical. Now she knows your strengths and weaknesses, and she has experienced many battles in the past. She will be prepared.”
“And I will also be prepared to face her,” I assured her. “I know more of how the Avatar fights now than I did when last we met. We have weighed and measured one another, and I do not think either of us gained a great advantage from it.”
Her eye twitched in a most curious way. “If you are so certain of that, I will not dispute it. Though do please be careful. Mother would be most wroth if something were to happen to you after all the work she did to keep you alive.”
“And I would hardly want to invoke your mother’s wrath.” I placed a reassuring hoof on the child’s shoulder. “Do not fear, young Midnight. I have no intention of letting the Avatar strike me down.”
“That is good to hear.” She trotted towards the door, and for a moment I dared to hope she had been satisfied and would leave me to rest in peace. Alas, my hopes were dashed as she instead pulled a large bundle through the open door. “With that business concluded, I would like to move on to the second matter that brought me here. Namely, I would like to thank you for saving me during the battle yesterday. Without your aid I would have fallen to my death, or been crushed under tons of rock, turning me into nothing but a gelatinous mass of shattered bone and pulped organs. Or mayhaps trampled underhoof by waves of rebel soldiers until not e’en Mother would have recognized my mortal remains. Or some other gruesome fate.”
‘Twas strange to think that I was no longer even disturbed by the child’s morbid turns of thought. “I could hardly allow such a cruel fate to befall thee.”
“Still, I thank you for sparing me from such unpleasantness.” She ruffled her hooves through the bundle, searching for something. “To express my gratitude for your actions, I obtained a suitable gift.” She pulled out a finely woven cloak, dyed in the color of my clan and emblazoned with the Commander’s sun. “I bought this for you. I thought you would like a nice cloak when it rains or the weather turns cold.”
I accepted the gift with a warm smile, making a note to wear it on some occasion where Midnight was likely to see. “My thanks to thee, Midnight. That was most thoughtful, and thy kindness is appreciated.”
She smiled in response, and I was glad that my rooms were dark enough for the expression to be somewhat obscured. To my surprise, her cheeks also pinked. One hoof slowly dragged across the carpet, and after some hesitation she continued. “The cloak is not the only gift I obtained. I also prepared some scones which I hope will please you.”
“Didst thou now? Thou art most kind.” I took one of the proffered goods, biting into it as she looked on, eagerly awaiting my approval with tensed shoulders and a hopeful smile.
The taste was ... unique. Not bad in the sense of a traditional failure at baking. The scones were not burnt, flat, or otherwise inedible, yet there was something undefinably incorrect about the flavor of them. If I had to put a word to what the taste of her scones put me in mind of, ‘twould be ... despair.
With a supreme effort of will, I finished chewing the pastry and forced myself to both swallow and grunt in approval. Her relieved grin at my approval almost made it worth enduring her cooking. “That is quite good, Midnight. Most excellent indeed. I shall save the rest to break my fast in the morning.”
Much to my relief, she accepted my excuse at face value. “That is reasonable. Scones are more enjoyable when suitably accompanied. If you could direct me to whomever is responsible for preparing your meals, I will inform them that you will require a meal suitable to being eaten alongside scones.” She frowned in thought. “I hope a note will suffice. I have found that servants are often less courteous than they ought to be when roused from their beds, even when ‘tis with good cause. ‘Twould hardly be proper for me to wait for them to wake naturally, though. That would require many hours of patience, and I might wish to sleep at some point ere you are ready to break your fast, Honored Shadow.”
“I can see to the matter myself, Midnight.” Given that we had no servants in the sense Midnight was undoubtedly accustomed to, I could only see her efforts to arrange my breakfast ending in disaster. Those who were not accustomed to Midnight’s oddities would not react well to any innocent offense she might offer.
“Perhaps that would be best,” the child agreed. “You surely know what you desire better than I. Let us move on to the next of my gifts, then,” She drew out a scroll, which I noted to be rather long. Much to my relief, ‘twas not an extended list of all she intended to provide. “With Mother’s aid, I have also commissioned an epic ballad in your name, to commemorate your victory over the Avatar. I have been told it will be sung across the city and to the army.”
“Truly?” I cared little for Sunbeam’s prior musical commemorations, but mayhaps this time ‘twould feature less dishonesty. Certainly lies would not be needed for whatever ends she sought to pursue. Every warrior enjoys the prospect of having their deeds remembered in song, and ‘twould be good to hear the bards sing of my actual accomplishments rather than whate’er fiction Sunbeam believed would best serve the war effort. “I am quite flattered, Midnight. My thanks to thee.”
Midnight nodded, a faint frown flicking across her features. “I am quite pleased with the results. Mother was right to advise hiring a professional bard to assemble the ballad. His work proved far superior to...” She trailed off, mumbling something under her breath. Though ‘twas difficult to tell with only a single candle lighting the room, I was quite certain she was blushing.
Such reticence was unusual from the strange young filly, and ignited my curiosity. “Is something amiss? Thou canst speak honestly with me.”
At first she shook her head, but after several moments she relented. Her voice was far quieter than normal, and she refused to e’en look at me, her eyes firmly fixed on the floor. “I wrote a poem for you, but 'tis not very good. I have not written much poetry. Any, really. But from what I have read, a gift of poetry shows more personal dedication than mere purchases.”
“That much is true, aye. Thine own creative efforts show a more personal investment of time and energy.” I wrapped one of my wings around Midnight, offering some reassurance. “I would be glad to hear thy poetry. I am sure 'tis far better than thou dost think. The dedication thou didst show in composing an entire poem will surely shine through any minor technical flaws. Is it not often said that true art is appreciated all the more for the flaws that show the artist’s character?”
She frowned thoughtfully. “I have heard such sentiments expressed before, though I never understood what was meant by them. Regardless, if ‘tis truly your wish to hear my poem, I would not be so rude as to refuse to read it. Pray, do not think less of me after you have heard it.” She extracted a single scroll from her bundle, unrolling it and clearing her throat ere she began her recitation:
“The inky silence in the tunnels Was broken at long last, By warriors’ screams as they funneled Into the cavern pass. The foe’s crossbow sang its song Though gladly missed its mark. And crimson rivers staunched their flow As horror emerged from the dark. Yet the champion’s blades were true that day Their fire blazing bright; The scorched enemy fled away Away, from the champion of light. The truth has dawned upon her foes: Death waits in the shadows. ”
As the final words hung in the air she set aside the scroll, her gaze once more dropping to the floor, though a single eye lingered hopefully upon me, awaiting my reaction.
I knew little of poetry; mine own literary studies had focused largely upon either histories, military matters, or the thoughts of philosophers. Howe’er, I knew that regardless of whether or not her praise had been both effusive and unsettling, one does not harshly critique a child’s first effort. Especially when ‘tis offered as a gift. “That was a most excellent poem, Midnight. I thank thee for writing it in mine honor.”
“You enjoyed it?” When I confirmed as much, she offered another one of her enthusiastic smiles, gently pulling my wing tighter around her. “It gladdens me to hear that. I had feared mine efforts were not equal to you.”
“I am hardly so proud as to claim that any gift freely offered is beneath me.” I smiled down at the child, feeling a moment of almost maternal fondness for her. “Truly, thou hast been most eager to express thy gratitude, and I am quite flattered by the many kindnesses thou hast bestowed upon me. Howe’er, the hour is late, and thy mother would be most upset if she woke and discovered thou wert not in thy bed. Mayhaps I could escort thee back to—”
“A moment, please,” she interrupted, flushing again a moment later when she realized what she had done. “I do not mean to offend, ‘tis only that I had one last gift I wished to offer to you. The greatest of all my gifts.”
Alas, it seemed I would not be returning to my bed as soon as I had hoped. Though at least an end to her generosity was near. “Yet another gift? Truly, thou art being far too generous. My deeds are hardly worthy of such rewards.”
Midnight met my gaze unblinkingly. “You did save my life. I can think of no gift I could offer which would be of equal value to such a deed. Not unless I could save your life, or that of one you loved, and I am too small and weak to do such a thing. Thus, a few small gifts must suffice for the moment.”
She unwrapped the last item within her bundle, revealing an equine skull, which I noted with some concern had been painted a particularly bright shade of pink. “This belonged to Countess Glowing Brand, who lived in the era before Lyequinegus unified the clans. Do you know of her? ‘Twas said she refused to pay homage to pegasus raiders when they arrived at her castle, instead contacting Lyequinegus and forging a pact with him. An agreement often held to be one of the first steps on Equestria’s road towards unity.”
I stared down at the skull, uncertain how to respond. “Thou art giving it to me?”
She nodded, her face surprisingly grave. “I thought that perhaps you would appreciate a token reminding you of other times when honorable pegasi aided unicorns in resisting the attacks of their less noble kin. Surely if e’en the famed and admired founder of modern Pegasopolis found it necessary to fight his own kin in the name of honor and unity, then you are in good company by following his example.”
I could scarcely credit mine own ears. To allow myself to be compared to a figure as exalted as Lyequinegus seemed the worst sort of hubris. Howe’er, I hardly wished to chastise young Midnight, for she surely intended no offense. Instead, my mind settled upon a far less consequential matter. “Why didst thou paint the skull pink?”
“I like the color pink,” she answered. “It is a strong, forceful, and virile color that commands respect and shows dedication to one’s values. (2) Since the skull is one of my favorites, it seemed appropriate to paint it one of my favorite colors.”
2: Obviously, the meanings associated with the color have changed a bit over the year s.
“I see.” I carefully took the skull from her, setting it to the side on my nightstand. “I shall treasure thy gift.” Regardless of the garishness of the paint and the morbidity of the gift itself, the skull was the mortal remains of an important pony, and deserved to be treated with an appropriate degree of respect (3).
3: The skull is still part of the Kicker clan’s private collection to this day. The pink paint is still in place, too.
She subjected me to another one of her joyful smiles. “Good, it gladdens my heart to see that you love it as much as I do.”
“I am pleased to hear it.” Much as I did not care for the timing of this particular bout of gratitude, I would hardly want to upset the child by seeming less than appreciative. For all her oddities, I could only imagine that Midnight was showering me with such favor in the hopes of winning mine approval. ‘Twould be most churlish of me to dash her hopes, e’en if not all of her gifts were entirely to mine own liking. “These presents have been most charming, and I am honored to receive each and every one of them.”
“That is good to hear. I had hoped to bring you some happiness.” Her smile faded, much to my relief. “There seems little enough of that in these dark days.”
After a moment’s consideration I pulled her closer, hugging the child reassuringly. “This darkness shall only be a passing thing, child. In time we shall stop the Avatar and end the rebellion, and all shall be right in the world again. Thou hast my word.”
She hesitantly wrapped her hooves around me as best she could, burying her face in my chest. “I hope so. Until your promise is fulfilled, I shall try and remain brave.” She pulled back from me grimacing angrily. “I wish there was more that I might be able to do. I am only a little filly, and I cannot char my enemies down to their skeletons like Mother, or decapitate and dismember them and watch the gore spurt from their severed stumps like you. I cannot e’en pierce their flesh with throwing spikes as Gale did. I cannot freeze them slowly to death, then shatter the frozen corpses into a thousand pieces for the rats and crows to feast upon, then watch the cats feast upon the vermin. I can only watch and hope that others will protect me.”
I placed a reassuring hoof on the child’s shoulder. “Thou hast done what thou canst. What more could we ask of thee?” A faint smirk crossed my lips as I added. “And ‘tis not as if thou hast done nothing to aid the war effort. I am sure many soldiers appreciate the water thou dost provide to them.”
Midnight scowled furiously at the mention of her duties. “I would much prefer any other task to the carrying of water. Would that I was old enough to go into battle, risking death or permanent maiming, and thus be spared the burden of bearing water.” She sighed, her shoulders slumping. “I do not like being small and helpless. ‘Tis ... unsettling to know I have so little control o’er mine own fate.”
“I have ne’er cared for the feeling when I experienced it.” I smiled, offering what reassurance I could. “But do not fear for thy safety, child. That is why ponies like I are tasked with protecting thee from the dangers of the world.”
“Aye, I know.” She sighed, kicking the carpet. “That does not make the situation less frustrating. I would much rather to at least have the ability to crush mine enemies, see them driven before me and hear their lamentations.” She nodded to herself. “Yes, that would be good.”
Her eagerness brought a grin to my face. “Hast thou so many enemies thou wouldst crush?”
She pointed out the window. “Is there not an entire army laying siege to my home? One which would gladly see my mother dead?”
“That is so,” I conceded. I leaned down, grinning conspiratorially. “Well, in that case I shall promise this to thee. I shall crush thine enemies in thy stead.”
She smiled once more, which was especially unsettling when viewed in such close proximity. “I would like that.”
I returned her smile as best I could. “Very good then.”
Once I had seen the errant young child home, morning came all too quickly. While I could not say for certain whether my body still required sleep in my altered state, I certainly still felt tired. So far as I was concerned, that was enough to make the dawn unwelcome.
The morning did not endear itself to me any further when I opened my door to find a young unicorn mare standing in front of my door. It took me a moment to place her light yellow coat, purple mane, and general features. “White Knight, aye?” Radiant Day’s younger sister was as much a part of the clan now as anypony bound to us by ties of marriage, but I hardly would have expected to find her lingering outside my bedroom door. “What brings thee to my quarters at this early hour?”
The squire cleared her throat, standing stiffly at attention. I noted that her armor was not so pristine as it had been at her brother’s wedding, showing several fresh dents and damage to its enamel. “Archmagus Sparkle asked that I attend upon you, milady. There are several matters she felt you would wish to be informed of as soon as you had woken.”
“I see.” Certainly I wished for the usual reports on yesterday’s fighting, which I had not been able to hear on account of my wounds. I normally made a habit of visiting the wounded and inspecting the state of my forces after any major battle. While missing such duties on account of being wounded myself was quite understandable, I would still make a point to correct that lapse at the earliest possible opportunity. ‘Twas important for soldiers to feel connected to their commanding officers; they will fight and die far more readily if they believe their leaders care for them and value their lives.
Such briefing duties as White was offering to undertake normally would have fallen to Gale or Sergeant Stalwart, but... “Proceed,” I grunted out.
“As you wish, milady.” To my vague annoyance, the squire bowed deferentially. “I have taken the liberty of arranging for breakfast to be delivered to your quarters. If you wish, I can also attend to your armor while briefing you.” A faint frown crossed her face as she looked me over. “Did ... forgive me, milady, but did you sleep in your armor?”
“I did.” I had little choice but to do so in my current state. “There is no need to attend to my wargear, I prefer to see to that personally.” I would have preferred to see to my meal as well, but ‘twas a minor affair. Unlike with mine armor, her interference with my food would not cause me to lapse into a catatonic state and reveal my nature as an abomination. Not to mention that if the armor was my true body now, she might be cleaning and tending to me. That thought was intensely uncomfortable for many reasons.
White took my refusal in stride, thinking nothing of it. “As you wish, milady. Shall I begin your briefing now, or would you prefer to wait until your food arrives?”
“I see no reason to waste time waiting. Proceed.” I hesitantly removed my helm, checking my head in a nearby mirror. So far as I could see, there were no signs of the wounds I had suffered yesterday. ‘Twould seem Sunbeam and whoe’er might have aided her had performed their healing quite skillfully. That done, I took a nearby cloth and began polishing the helmet.
White frowned, one hoof twitching towards the helmet as though she found it grievously offensive that I was tending to mine own equipment instead of allowing her to do so. “Very well. To begin, we have reclaimed the Southern Gates in the wake of your victory in single combat against the Avatar. Our engineers are already constructing temporary defenses to hold the breeches in the walls, and are currently assessing whether ‘twould be better to attempt repairs or simply hasten work on the third line of defenses.”
I nodded along. I had made little study of siegecraft prior to the current conflict; pegasi rarely concerned themselves with how to build walls they could easily fly o’er. Howe’er, e’en I knew that ‘twas often quite difficult to repair a wall in a way that left it as strong as it had originally been. ‘Twas often easier and quicker to simply build a new wall than to properly fix breeches in an existing one. In any case, I would leave such determinations to the engineers whose expertise we were employing.
“In other news,” the young squire continued, “we recovered most of our wounded from the capture of the Southern Gates. The enemy withdrawal was swift and poorly organized, and none thought to arrange a guard detail to escort the prisoners they had taken back to the rebel camp.” She frowned. “Or mayhaps whoever would have arranged for such felt that the terms of the duel required surrendering any prisoners taken as well. There may be some truth to the rumors their supply situation is troubled, and the enemy was hesitant to add prisoners that would consume additional rations and require guards to watch o’er them.”
“Or mayhaps some combination of all those factors, or something else altogether.” I ran my rag along the helm, marveling at the subtle, intricate runework crossing it. Impressive as it was, I had a sense that what I could see was far from the truth of it. ‘Twas as if there were another, far grander design hidden beneath what was plainly visible. “Mayhaps ‘twill be of importance, but for now ‘tis enough to know that we have recovered soldiers who might return to the battlefield.”
“We need them,” White answered, a surprisingly bitter look upon her young face. “Our losses yesterday were heavy. Once the southern gates fell and the Dragon’s Teeth formations were broken, fighting devolved into a close melee. With the exception of the Order and your clan’s forces, our armies are poorly suited to such combat. Our losses were significant; and many of their casualties were amongst their earth pony auxiliaries, who have been easily replaced thus far. That does not bode well for our prospects.”
“They cannot compel earth ponies to take up arms indefinitely,” I mused aloud. “Farms require workers, and the harvest season is quite near. When it comes, they will have to release much of the militia or risk starvation.”
“That is one theory,” White growled out. “Another is that the honorless scum are prepared to allow a famine to occur if it leads to their victory.”
I raised an eyebrow at her acerbic tone, but made no comment on it. It might e’en be that she was correct, at least as far as Swift and the Nightmare were concerned. The both of them seemed perfectly willing to let Equestria burn so long as they could claim dominion o’er the ashes.
“Dark thoughts for dark times.” I sighed, shaking my head. “At least we won the day. Pray, is there any news that is not grim?”
“Few things,” the squire admitted. “For one, the Archmagus told me to inform you that a Sergeant Stalwart Kicker was recovered. His wounds are quite severe, but our medics are hopeful that they may be able to preserve his life. Though whether he will wake again, and how fit for duty he will be...” She trailed off with a helpless shrug.
Regardless of his condition, that Stalwart still lived at all was welcome news indeed. I had given him up for dead after the attack on the Southern Gates. The sergeant played a vital role for me, serving as an important connection to the sentiments of the common soldiers within my clan. In addition, he seemed blessed with a degree of common sense—a quality I have found to be egregiously misnamed, for it is anything but common.
“There is one other matter,” White began, her ears twitching. “Though the news is somewhat more ... bittersweet. Knight-Captain Radiant Day led a heroic defense of the Western Tunnels against a sneak attack by the hetairoi itself, facing superior forces. He succeeded at capturing a significant portion of their strength, including two of the Avatar’s children, Dusk and Dawn Charger.” A tremble passed down her spine, but after a moment she took a deep breath and forced her face back to the very image of stoic neutrality. “Father has requested that he receive the Order of the Rising Sun for his bravery on the field of battle, and that he be posthumously elevated to the rank of Knight-Commander for his victory.”
“Posthu—” I had the good sense not to finish my inquiry. ‘Twas not as if she could have misspoken about her brother’s death. I placed a single hoof on the squire’s shoulder. “Thou hast my sincerest condolences. He was a fine stallion.”
“Yes, he was.” She refused to meet my eyes, her gaze dropping to the floor. When she spoke again, the words came out heavily, and I suspected she hid her eyes so I would not see tears gathering in them. “I was there. In the Western Tunnels, serving at my brother’s side as was my duty. He is—was a far better knight than I could e’er hope to be. Yet he perished, whilst I survived. How can that be? The battle ... ‘twas darkness and chaos, yet I can only imagine that he must have worried so much for my safety that he did not look to his own.”
Her ears fell flat against her skull, and the next words were barely above a whisper. “I was there. I saw him die. Saw the pegasus tackle him to the ground, then bash his skull in. O’er and o’er and o’er. Yet I could do nothing. I was powerless to save him. I could not e’en avenge him. I ... when he died I was so shocked that I dropped my weapon. The rebels took it as a surrender. They spared me.”
Ah. White was not the first soldier I had seen afflicted with such guilt. The belief that she was somehow responsible for the deaths of those who fought alongside her. That had she battled more vigorously or found some keen tactical insight she might have turned the tide of the battle and saved their lives. I had experienced something similar the first time soldiers died under my command. ‘Twas difficult to accept that such death and devastation could come without any error being made. That I could have given all the correct orders, or White could have been the bravest and mightiest squire anypony could hope for, and yet those we felt responsible for protecting could still die.
There were no words I could offer that would instantly banish her pain. I spoke what truth I could, and hoped ‘twould bring her some comfort. “Thy brother died nobly, and shall be remembered with honor. He would not have wished for thee to perish alongside him. If thou dost truly believe that he gave his life to preserve thine, then do honor to his legacy. Live well, and live happily. I can think of nothing that would please him more.”
She nodded, then loudly cleared her throat in a way that I was quite certain was intended to hide other sounds. I gave her the time needed to compose herself, pointedly ignoring any evidence of her sorrow. If she wished to hide it, ‘twould be heartless to call attention to it.
After some time her sorrow passed, and if I noticed a slight redness about her eyes or a few lingering hints of moisture on her cheeks I took no note of it. I coughed to gain her attention, then pointedly moved to other matters that would not pain her. “Was there anything else the Archmagus felt I should be informed of ere I met with her?”
The young squire hesitated, worrying at her lower lip uncertainly. “There was one other matter. I ... I am now a squire with no master. Though Knight-Magus Shimmer has already offered to take me on as his squire, Archmagus Sparkle suggested that perhaps you would be willing to...” She trailed off uncertainly. “I would of course be most honored, but I would not wish to seem presumptuous by asking such a thing.”
I stared down at her, uncertain what to make of such an unusual request. “Thou wouldst be my squire?” She nodded, confirming it. As I had no idea how to answer her, I chose careful neutrality. “I see. I will consider thy request.”
She bowed gratefully. “Thank you, milady.”
“Good day,” I grunted out, wasting no more time before I departed for Sunbeam’s tower. It seemed I had e’en more to discuss with the mare than I had expected.
‘Twas with some surprise that I realized I had ne’er before been to Sunbeam Sparkle’s private tower. Whene’er we had spoken in private, it had been in my rooms or some other location. Though perhaps ‘twas not so shocking in retrospect; I had no reason or desire to seek her out prior to the war, and once battle had been joined a thousand other matters demanded my attention. I confess I was somewhat curious to see how the Archmagus of Canterlot lived.
I noted a faint glow emanating off the wood as I approached the front door, and when I raised a hoof to knock the door opened of its own accord, then closed itself again shortly after I stepped through. Plainly a bit of sorcery to allow expected guests to enter without trouble, and presumably impress those who had little experience with magic.
The foyer of her tower was the very image of opulence. In the center of the room hung a particularly grandiose portrait of Sunbeam herself, perched at the right hoof of Commander Celestia and seated upon a throne that was only slightly smaller than that of her ruler. Other paintings decorated the walls, showing her striking down warlocks and penning what I presumed were either words of wisdom or enlightened new laws. Lavish (and I presume o’erly soft) chairs were spread about beneath the artworks, flanked by bookshelves full of tomes whose spines teased of histories, magics, philosophies, and more. Scattered among them, often as bookstops, were elaborately complex instruments of some magely nature, as well as massive, uncut gemstones impaled on half-crescent holders. Though ‘twas not all encased in gold, enough precious metals glinted from the decorative leafing that I idly wondered how many Unicornian officers sacrificed their armor’s ornamentation to allow it. Mayhaps a few of them were e’en forced to wear something practical and effective.
After several seconds, Sunbeam emerged from doors set at the top of a long spiral staircase. She smiled down invitingly. “Ah, Shadow, 'tis good to see thee. I was hoping thou wouldst not make me wait too terribly long to speak with thee.”
“There are matters I would discuss with thee as well.” I took wing, bypassing the stairs entirely. From the nonplussed expression on her face, I suspect she had been looking forward to making me waste time and effort climbing them to reach her. ‘Twas no doubt one of the many ploys she enjoyed using to remind others of her power. I landed before her, meeting her gaze neutrally. “Dare I ask why thou art attempting to find me a squire?”
Her smile returned, though now there was a faintly mocking undertone to it. “Oh come now, dost thou not see the reasons? I hope thy mind has not been too addled. ‘Twould be most inconvenient if the commander of our armies could not e’en remember what she ate for breakfast, let alone how to lead soldiers in battle.”
I scowled at the aggravating mare, which only seemed to amuse her all the more, judging by her widening grin. Her remark also reminded me of the meal I had left behind at my clan’s compound. Irksome. “Squiring is a unicorn institution. Perhaps thou hast not noticed that I am sorely lacking in a horn, but blessed with wings?”
Sunbeam waved my objection away. “Mere technicalities in days such as these.” She pointedly looked down at the staircase. “Come, let us move to my private chambers. A far more suitable place to converse, compared to standing in the middle of a stairway.”
She proceeded to her private quarters, holding open the door so that I might join her. When I did so, I discovered something most unexpected. Where the foyer had been the very image of opulence and wealth, her private quarters were far more modest. Not poorly appointed by any means, but made with a degree simplicity and significantly more understated wealth.
She smirked, no doubt in response to my surprise. “Count thyself fortunate, dear Shadow. Few ponies have seen these rooms. I have another set of rooms lower in the tower for those who I wish to entertain. They are quite magnificent, and no doubt impress those who judge a pony’s worth by the amount of wealth they can waste on pointless displays.” She trotted to small but efficiently arranged kitchen and set to work preparing a pot of tea. “Now then, correct me if I am wrong, but have I not seen older pegasi mentoring their younger kin in the ways of battle? Is it not the very purpose of the Gerousia to have older, wiser, and more experienced ponies offer their wisdom to the new generation? How is that so different?”
“‘Tis quite similar to some of our practices.” I thought back to mine own younger days, as a young mare beginning my first tour with the Long Patrol. ’Twas when I had first met Rightly, when he was a veteran on his second tour who took me under his wing. “Though I expect there are cultural differences.” I certainly hoped that White would not become infatuated with me as I had been with Rightly. Though what had begun as youthful admiration would later blossom into genuine love, once we met again in the Ephorate.
“Aye, I expect pegasus and unicorn practices are not identical,” she conceded with an uncaring shrug, casually heating her teapot with skillful pyromancy rather than a stove. “I am sure that thou art capable of o’ercoming such obstacles. For one, 'tis been mine impression that White Knight's training is nearly complete, so she will hardly be a burden upon thee. In fact, I expect she shall be quite useful; thou art in need of an aide with Stalwart's wounding.” She nodded to herself. “Aye, I suspect thou couldst have used one even before this. Thy time is far too valuable to be wasted on mundane tasks like making thine own bed.”
Much as I instinctively disliked the idea of declaring such tasks beneath my notice, I knew she was not entirely wrong. A commander must delegate tasks to their subordinates, else they would neglect the forest to focus upon a few trees. “She seems capable enough, and eager to be of assistance. Though I am curious why thou art so eager to arrange it.”
She chuckled. “Ah, because of course I could not merely be trying to help thee? Very well. In addition to the purely practical reasons, 'tis a matter of politics.” She checked the tea, and after finding it to her satisfaction poured a cup for each of us. “The nobles are becoming restive on account of how much power they have lost. ’Twas necessary and will ultimately prove to be for the betterment of Equestria, but their fears must be soothed. That, and their wounded pride.” She chuckled and shook her head. “Many now complain that this is a pegasus war, being led by pegasi but with the other tribes being made to die as to determine who will be Commander of Pegasopolis. And of course, the nobles have never loved me.”
She sighed. “I have had to make ... other concessions as well. Soon, Celestia shall grant me a title of mine own. No doubt the nobles hope that being a newly created noble shall make me more sympathetic to their causes on account of common interests.” She smiled coldly. “More fools, them. They think I will protect noble privilege and power when ‘tis mine as well, because of course I care only for wealth and power rather than higher ideals.” Sunbeam tsked and shook her head. “Still, such concessions are only worth so much. Grandmaster Noble Quest has not quite come into his own where politics are concerned, and being of lower nobility his influence is limited regardless. Especially when he is one of the few unicorns with a significant command, and never particularly inclined to favor noble interests.”
I followed her reasoning easily enough. “So my taking a squire is meant to further soothe ruffled feathers?”
“Aye,” she confirmed. “’twould place a unicorn, and one of noble birth, in a place of prominence without it upsetting the balance of power we have created. 'Twill also endear her parents to thee, especially with their daughter in a time of need.”
I nodded along, finding myself warming to the idea. “She seems a fine enough young mare. I have no objection to the arrangement.”
She smiled approvingly, sipping her tea. “Excellent. The arrangement will cost us little while securing an otherwise vulnerable flank. ’Twould not do to have the nobles become so discontented that one of them thinks they would be better served by throwing open the gates to the rebels.”
“Quite so.” I had made a study of siegecraft in recent months, and the danger of betrayal from within was mentioned frequently. ’Twas as great a threat as enemy siege engines or starvation, if one judged by how past sieges had ended.
I sipped the cup of tea Sunbeam provided, then grimaced. I have heard it said that tea is something of an acquired taste. E’en now, beyond the end of my life, I have not yet acquired it.
The Archmagus smirked at me over the rim of her cup. “Yes, it is rather revolting. The grim necessity of a siege, I am afraid. We have received no fresh leaves since the rebel army closed around the city. I suppose we should be glad of one thing: at the rate the war has been progressing, they will likely break our defenses ere we are reduced to boiling books or eating our own dead for sustenance. At least Mossy Banks is doing what he can to deny the rebels their own supplies.” She chuckled softly. “I suspect that despite living in a swamp, he is far better supplied than we are. He likely enjoys luxuries not e’en Celestia can have now, and made all the sweeter because his food is stolen from our enemies.”
She frowned, setting down her cup of something that was technically tea. “Speaking of matters within the rebel camp, that brings me to another point I wished to discuss with thee. We need to concern ourselves with the matter of succession within thy clan and who shall take up leadership in the event of thy death.” Her lips twisted bitterly. “The battle with the Avatar made it plain enough that thou art mortal, even with thine armor and the strength it brings. What wouldst happen tomorrow if thou wert to die today? Who would lead the clan in thy stead?”
’Twas not hard to guess what point she was driving at. My heir lay in the hooves of the enemy, and I had no other children—and from what I had heard, Stalwart had been vital to helping the Commander manage much of the clan’s day-to-day affairs whilst I was recovering from my wounds. While I could not deny the logic of her concerns... “I suspect I will not care for thy next words, Sunbeam.”
She let out a loud, haughty sniff. “Just because thou dost not care for them does not mean thou shouldst ignore them. Our entire cause could have been undone if thou succumbed to thy wounds, or even if they had merely disabled thee long enough. Any cause dependent 'pon the heartbeat of a single pony is begging for catastrophe to strike. How many wars have been lost because one side's leader was cut down in battle, or e’en died by some other means like disease?” She smirked coldly. “I am reminded of the tale of the battle ‘tween the pegasi under Commander Fear Striker ‘gainst the gryphon King Gustavus Coldtalon. The Gryphon High King led his elite guards in a bold charge cutting down the Striker, but died as well in the process. For a moment the battle hung in the balance, but the pegasi won the day because they had a chain of command. While the gryphons scattered and fled, Ephor Gallant Charger seamlessly took up leadership after the Commander’s death.”
“Thy point is taken,” I grumbled, not caring at all for a lesson in history I already knew quite well. “It changes nothing. I will not disinherit Gale just because she has been captured by the enemy.”
Sunbeam scoffed, waving away my objections. “Not disinherit her—merely appoint a second successor to thy clan. One legally behind Gale once she is freed, but who can assume thy duties if thou art unable to.”
“The intent behind it would still be plain enough,” I countered. “Nopony would doubt that I was replacing a lost heir.”
“I think most would see it more as a matter of having a spare.” She sighed, throwing her eyes up to the heavens as if I were being grossly unreasonable. “Everypony would understand that Gale can hardly lead the clan whilst in enemy captivity. Thou wouldst risk our cause because 'twould hurt her feelings? With the Avatar leading the rebels, surely thou must realize how foolish it is to let feelings override thy judgement.”
I scowled at her, quite offended by the implication of her words. “‘Tis not as if I am utterly short-sighted. Gale is...” I grimaced, hesitant to speak an unpleasant truth. “I am sure the rebels are attempting to turn her to their cause. And while she followed me when I ordered the clan to support Celestia, I think that in her heart Gale would have preferred to remain loyal to the Ephorate. Her loyalty is to me, and if she believes that I have betrayed her...”
“Ah.” She swirled the dregs of her tea. “So her loyalty is that tenuous, then? My dear Shadow, if anything, that makes the need for a secondary heir all the more urgent. I was concerned enough at the prospect of the Kickers merely being leaderless. If thou dost believe there is truly a chance thy daughter could declare for the rebels...”
“Gale would not betray me,” I growled.
“And yet, she is not among us,” Sunbeam countered. “And considering the presence of the Avatar and warlocks in the rebel camp, she need not be willing. Dark magic can bend and break the wills of others, especially when wielded by a being like the Avatar.” She sighed heavily, her shoulders slumping. “There are some matters that occurred during thy convalescence that we have not yet discussed. I know how much thou dost love to drape the cloak of modesty about thy shoulders, but surely e’en thou canst concede that thou art an important symbol to those pegasi who remain loyal to the throne. The prospect of losing thee ... troubled them.”
I frowned. “Troubled them? How so?”
“First, I would ask thy word that thou wilt not act hastily upon what I will tell thee. ’Tis a settled matter now, and dredging it up will only open old wounds.”
“I will think carefully on any actions I might take,” I conceded.
“Very well.” She set down her nearly empty teacup. “There was substantial dissent in the ranks. At one point I was worried thy clanponies were on the verge of mutiny, or at least a riot. For all that we reassured them that thou wert alive but wounded, they wanted to see thee for themselves. Given the arcane workings Celestia and I were engaged in, that was hardly an option. I think many of them suspected that we were lying to them, pretending thou wert still alive to keep them bound to our cause and avoid damaging morale.”
She hesitated a long moment ere continuing. “Had thy recovery been delayed much further, I might have taken drastic measures.” She waved towards a desk littered with papers. “One of those has a list of the most prominent dissidents within both thy clan and amongst the clanless and outcasts. I was planning to send them on a few high-risk missions. Nothing too blatant or pointlessly suicidal, goodness knows there is no shortage of dangerous tasks to be done during a siege. With any luck, the rebels would have culled our problems for us.”
I began to grasp why she had counseled me ‘gainst hasty action, for my first instinct was to rage at her. The thought that she would have arranged the deaths of mine own clansponies was beyond infuriating. I rose from my seat, stepping towards her, my wingblades readying themselves of their own accord. “Thou wouldst dare?! ”
She answered my fury with an almost unnatural calm, remaining seated and meeting my glare unflinchingly. “Yes, I would dare. Didst thou not command hundreds of soldiers to their deaths in the battle yesterday, all to save Canterlot and Equestria from the Avatar? Yet thou wouldst condemn me for sending a dozen to their deaths to end the very same threat?”
“Always a clever answer or a witty retort,” I snarled, stalking forward. “Some glib turn of phrase to hide the monstrousness of thine actions. What thou wouldst have done would not be sending soldiers to war. ‘Twould be little better than murder.”
“Call it murder then, if it pleases thee,” she answered, rising as well and pressing forward, her nose almost touching mine. “And aye, I would murder thy kin if ‘twere necessary to save Equestria. Surely thou cannot be shocked to hear it. Dost thou know how many have already died in this war, and how many more shall perish if the rebels are successful? Make no mistake, Shadow—in the event of thy death, I will do whate’er is necessary to keep thy clan from joining the rebel ranks.” Her shoulders slumped, and she fell back into her seat. “I would much prefer that thou dost simply appoint somepony who can take up leadership in thine absence. Just because I am willing to take extreme measures if they become necessary does not mean I wish to.” She sighed heavily, sinking further into her seat. “I dreamed of making a better Equestria. Reforming outdated practices and ending threats ere they emerged to take innocent lives. Climbing o’er a mountain of corpses to achieve that goal was ... not something I wished for.”
“But thou wouldst do it,” I accused.
“Yes.” For all her weariness and resignation, she did not hesitate a moment with her answer. “I would burn Equestria to the ground ere I would let the Avatar take it from Queen Celestia.”
I could not help but compare her remarks to mine own earlier thoughts regarding Swift Blade and the Avatar herself. It seemed the war had almost become a curious sort of all-consuming madness, dragging us all into further and further bloodshed. Would this war carry on until the last surviving rebel and loyalist fell upon one another’s spears?
Sunbeam slowly massaged her scalp. “Unless thou wouldst rant and rave at me further, let us return to more productive matters. It seems plain to me that thou wilt not name a new heir, and obviously a purge of dissidents is unacceptable. So be it. If that is thy desire, then mayhaps I can conjure up another answer out of the aether.” She refilled her teacup, sipping from it and grimacing at the taste. “There might be another solution, though I suspect thou wilt take at least some issue with it.”
A part of me did not wish to let the matter of her planned purge drop, yet I was already weary of the discussion. In truth, I was not e’en truly surprised at her willingness to kill those in my clan who might try to turn them to the rebels. In fact, I suspect that at least part of my anger was born not from her willingness to act, but from the idea that my clan might attempt to join the rebel cause if I were to die. I had thought better of them, though ‘twas perhaps foolish to believe that they were all unthinkingly united behind me, without e’en a single pony experiencing a single moment of doubt.
I set such dark thoughts aside for the moment and answered Sunbeam. “For all thy complaints about the difficulty of finding a new solution to the problem, it seems thou didst conjure one up quite readily.” I could not help but smirk knowingly as a thought occurred to me. “Or perhaps thou didst anticipate my resistance, and already had another scheme in mind? Mayhaps thou didst e'en suggest an idea thou didst know I would reject, so that I would be more inclined to accept the supposed compromise thou wouldst offer afterwards?”
She grinned. “Thou wilt never know the truth where my schemes begin and end.”
I scoffed. “Thou dost enjoy this serpent's game far too much.”
“It is one of my guilty pleasures,” Sunbeam confessed, her grin growing wider for a moment ere she settled back to the matter at hoof. “But aye, I do have an alternative solution. I say 'tis time we affirm our position as the true legitimate government of Pegasopolis.”
“What exactly didst thou—” I paused as I realized what solution she must have in mind. “Of course. We have but a commander and one Ephor. That leaves four seats empty.”
She nodded approvingly. “Exactly. 'Twould help enhance our legitimacy, and give us more leaders to fall back 'pon if thou wert lost.”
“The idea is not unreasonable,” I allowed. “Though we would need to find suitable candidates. Ideally ones representing the major clans. Our Ephorate would look hollow indeed if we named my clanponies to all the seats.”
“That is the greatest hurdle I can see,” Sunbeam admitted. “We need leaders who are loyal to the cause, but also have a valid claim to status within the Ephorate. I will not repeat the rebels’ mistake with Cyclone; an illegitimate Ephor is worse than none at all.”
Though I would have preferred that my father go unmentioned, her point was still valid. “Aye, we would need to make our choices carefully.” Perhaps I could prevail upon Rightly to join our cause once more. My pleas had fallen on deaf ears in the past, but with the Avatar’s emergence...
“I expect I will have to leave much of the process of selecting of candidates to thee,” Sunbeam declared, seemingly faintly annoyed at the prospect. “Surely thou wouldst know what thy fellow pegasi value far better than I would. I would still assess their loyalty, naturally. And we would need Queen Celestia to sign off on any appointments we make, as befits her status as the rightful Commander of Pegasopolis.”
“I would have it no other way.” I frowned, turning my mind to the matter of candidates for the new Ephorate. “It may take some time to decide upon who will occupy the new seats. Though I suspect thou dost already have a list of thy preferred candidates prepared.”
She chuckled, lightly brushing a hoof down my armored chest. “Ah, dearest Shadow, thou dost know me so very well.” She produced a list from within her robes, passing it to me. “Take the time needed to see the task done properly, but do not dally too long. I expect the rebels will want to strike again ere we finish repairing the breaches from their last attack. The only thing that might cause them to delay is the fact that we hold two of the Avatar’s children, though for all I could say it might actually fire her to attack sooner.”
“Ah, yes. Dusk and Dawn Charger are cooling their hooves in our cells.” I grimaced. “We shall have to think of what use we can find for the two of them. Normally my first instinct would be to trade Dusk’s freedom for Gale’s, but ... well, I have no intention of meeting the Avatar under a truce flag. Given their claims that I slew Lance at a parley, I rather doubt they would be willing to hear me out either.”
Sunbeam scoffed. “There is no negotiating with a monster. The best we could hope for out of any attempt to trade is that they would play along in the hopes of betraying us, and we would have to plan our own treachery in response. Such a farce would most likely end with all the prisoners slain.”
“Then what are we to do with her children?” I growled, frustrated that Gale was no closer to being rescued despite having such a perfect trade for her. “Do we leave them to rot in a cell next to Rightly?”
“I see no other option, for the moment,” she conceded with a shrug. “I doubt thou wouldst argue to slay them, for they are too useful to do such a thing. Not to mention that would provoke the Avatar to retaliate. And as we have discussed, we cannot trust the rebels to trade with us. I intend to have them questioned.” She held up a hoof to forestall any objection on my part. “Only questioned, no harsh interrogation. I see no reason to give the Avatar an excuse to claim we mistreated her children. But in any case, I doubt they will reveal anything.”
“Aye.” Bright’s children were no doubt as loyal to her as Gale was to me. “’Tis frustrating, though. ‘Tween the two of them and Rightly we hold valuable hostages, yet a hostage that cannot be traded and whom we dare not harm is of little use.”
“Lamenting the situation will not change it for the better.” She sighed, then finished the rest of her foul tea. “For the moment let us consider it well enough that they stay in our dungeons. It might provoke the Avatar to make a foolish move. If naught else, Dawn will likely agree to join our other chirurgeons.” She paused in thought. “I believe she was sired by a Kicker, aye? I would suggest having him meet with her, if he is amongst thy ranks. He might be able to sway her to reveal something of use, or mayhaps e’en convince her to defect. ’Twould be quite the coup if we could turn one of the Avatar’s own children against her.”
“I see little reason not to make the attempt.” I could not recall Dawn’s sire at the moment, but undoubtedly somepony else would. “Though on the subject of the Avatar, there is a matter I would discuss with thee.”
“Oh?” She leaned forward, showing a sort of eager curiosity. “How intriguing. What would that be? Some scheme to finally end her? Some hidden weakness thou didst discover in thy battle with her?”
“Neigh.” Though her words did remind me that I would be wise to think o’er the battle ‘gainst the Avatar and search for any advantages I might gain. “'Tis regarding the Avatar and thy daughter. I have begun to suspect that there is some manner of connection ‘tween the two of them. Twice now she has forewarned me of the Avatar's arrival, at the wedding and upon the walls. She speaks of the Avatar's thoughts and feelings as if she has some insight into them.” I frowned, musing half to myself. “And during the battle, she asked several questions about the status of our forces. The rebels attacked shortly afterwards, and struck well. Almost as if they knew I had already committed my reserves.”
For a moment Sunbeam went almost completely still, but she recovered swiftly, wearing an easy smile that likely would have fooled me had I not come to know her so well o’er the last few months. As it was, her tone was a touch too light, her body language so relaxed that ‘twas plain she was making an effort to show that she was unbothered. “My child, I admit, has always been a touch strange. And she is magically gifted. 'Tis not uncommon for magi to have certain eccentricities. And likely the rebels have been planning their assault for a month. ‘Tis no surprise they struck true, nor does it take any great military genius to anticipate that thy reserves would be used to plug a gap in thy walls.”
I held her gaze, not allowing her a moment’s respite to compose herself. “I am most disappointed, Sunbeam. I would have expected a far better lie from thee.”
Her eyes narrowed, and there was an almost growling undertone to her words. “Then why speak of these things, Shadow? For I cannot imagine thou wouldst bring these things to mine attention for no reason.”
“Thou knowest something of this matter,” I answered levelly. “And thou shalt share thy knowledge with me. If the Avatar somehow gained information about our defenses from Midnight, then I need to know so that I might address the threat.”
“My child is not a threat!” she snarled, rising from her seat and storming forwards until she was all but atop me.
I let her rage wash o’er me, answering with stoic calm. “Neigh, the Avatar is the threat. And I suspect e’en more of a threat to thy daughter than to most of us. A threat I intend to end, but which I cannot stop unless I have the needed information. Information thou dost hold.”
Sunbeam grunted, turning her back upon me and furiously pacing about the room like a caged lion. I recognized her mood all too well from mine own recent experiences—that of a pony with much fury, but no target to unleash it against. Finally, her shoulders slumped and she let out a long breath. When she spoke, the rage had left her voice, leaving only exhaustion and fear behind. “I am not clear exactly what type of hold the Avatar has on my daughter. Or more precisely, the control Nightmare Moon has.”
The distinction was a curious one. “Tell me whate'er thou canst, then.”
Her jaw clenched and her horn lit up. I recognized the spells she began weaving, creating extra layers of privacy and secrecy around the room. Her tower was already quite warded for such, but ‘twas plain she intended to be as thorough as possible. “Thou art to tell nopony what I am about to tell thee. Nopony. Not e’en Gale, should we recover her. If I even suspect thou hast told what is about to be said, we will find out exactly how much it will take to end thee. Am I clear?”
I frowned. “I will not swear an oath to keep secrets I do not yet know.”
“I was not asking for thine oath, Shadow.” She stalked over to one of her cabinets and extracted a bottle of gin. “I was informing thee of a reality. Offer an oath or do not, but if thou dost betray my secrets thou wilt suffer for it. I have only told one other living soul what I am about to tell thee, and that was ten years ago.”
“The Commander?”
“Aye, her.” She filled two tumblers. “Thou canst rest easy, for I am not asking thee to keep secrets from the Queen. Now then, dost thou remember Secret Word?”
I searched my memory for the name. “The name is passingly familiar. A warlock, aye?”
She nodded sharply. “He was a particularly difficult cultist of Nightmare Moon I had been tasked with bringing to justice. He was intelligent, skilled, and of no small talent. Though his greatest advantage was actually that he had seduced the apprentice to the Archmagus of the Eastern March. E’en as I hunted him, Clear Sight demanded reports on my progress in the Archmagus’ name, which she promptly delivered to Secret Word.” She scowled. “With hindsight’s benefit, I suspect Hidden Facts must have played a role in this as well. ‘Tis too much a coincidence that there would be two highly-placed traitors.”
I frowned, wondering why the tale of her child’s oddities began here. “This tale sounds as if ‘twill be lengthier than I expected.”
“So it is.” She chuckled humorlessly, then took a long sip from her drink. “There are many moving pieces to it. Mayhaps one day ‘twill make a story for the bards to sing of, though not until I am long dead.” She scoffed, shaking her head. “In any case, Clear Sight had always claimed to have a gift for looking into the future—always obsessed with divinations, prophecies, predicting what is to come, and all that foolishness. Future-telling is a pointless exercise in a universe where ponies have the freedom to determine their own fates at any given moment.
“Regardless of the validity of her predictions, she eventually abandoned any pretence of loyalty to the magi, joining her lover’s cult in an effort to free Nightmare Moon from her prison.” She swirled her drink, staring down into the liquor’s depths. “The Avatar was not the first attempt by a Nightmare cult to find a suitable host for the spirit of Nightmare Moon. Howe’er, all the previous efforts met with failure: either the host was insufficient to the task, the cultists too unskilled, or they could not summon sufficient power to do the ritual. We had become certain that such efforts were doomed to failure, and that Celestia’s seals could not be broken.”
She scoffed, shaking her head. “Perhaps ‘twas a sort of hubris, to believe no mortal unicorn could undo the work of an immortal alicorn. Secret decided to attack the problem from a new direction: if the selection of ponies available to him were not equal to the task, then he would make one. So he plotted with his turncoat lover, and together they conceived a foal with the intention of making her serve as a vessel for Luna’s spirit.”
“Midnight?” I concluded.
“Aye, Midnight.” She drained her tumbler dry, grimacing at the taste. “I do not know all the details of how it was done, but they had managed to make a child that was a piece of Luna, in blood and soul, and Clear bore the foal. When Midnight was born, Nightmare Moon would have had an agent on our world, one of power. One that could wield her power, and might very well have been able to free her.”
She paused for a moment to refill her glass. “‘Twas one of the most difficult warlock hunts of my life. My foes were cunning, skilled, and utterly dedicated to their cause. In the end, I had lost everypony that had joined me on the hunt before I had even confronted Secret Word.” Her eyes turned distant, as though lost in memory. “And so ‘twas that I at last found him on the winter solstice, exactly one hundred years after Queen Celestia had banished her sister. Such things have power; the portents could not have been better for a ritual connected to the Nightmare. ‘Twas on that night that they planned Midnight's birth. I had already learned of enough of their plans by interrogating captured cultists to know that I had to stop them, whate’er the costs. So I threw myself into the battle.”
‘Twas easy enough to guess the outcome from there. “I presume thou didst succeed in slaying the warlocks, but not before Midnight was born. Which left thee to decide the fate a newborn, innocent, and parentless child?”
“Aye.” She frowned, her tone turning quiet and almost contemplative. “I do not e’en know what slew the mare that brought Midnight into the world—whether ‘twas me, one of the warlocks, or mayhaps the stress of the birth itself.” She scowled and angrily waved her hoof as though warding off an annoying insect. “It matters not, in the end. Regardless of how she died, it left me with a terrible question on what to do with the wailing foal.”
Though I could surmise how events had proceeded from there, the reasoning eluded me. “Thou didst decide to keep her, and raise her as thine own. I confess, that is unexpected. I would have thought thee more likely to seek a ... different solution.”
She shrugged. “It... surprised me also. I think at first ‘twas but a whim.” She poured the remainder of her glass down her throat, only to fill it once more. “I ne’er sought out to become a mother. I had worked hard to make sure I would not be one, in fact.” She stared contemplatively at her glass’ contents, idly swirling them about. “I had borne a son once, long ago.”
I blinked, my mouth hanging open at the sudden revelation. “Truly? I did not know of it.”
“That is not a surprise, I did everything I could to keep it hidden.” Her smile was almost wistful. “I was younger then. Filled with ambition, desires, and a lust for life. Not to mention I lacked many of the connections my noble-born peers enjoyed. I took many lovers, a long string of patrons who I used, then cast aside when they had no more to offer me.” She snorted, setting her drink down on the table. “And then one of them did me the unkindness of putting a foal ‘pon me, despite all my precautions ‘gainst it. Bearing a bastard was hardly in my interests. I had neither the time nor the desire to raise a child in between advancing as a magus and hunting warlocks, not to mention the complications that likely would have arisen from the sire.”
She shrugged, seemingly dismissing the father of her child from her mind. “Fortunately for me, a magus’ cloak and some illusion spells did wonders to keep my condition from being discovered. Once I was heavy with child, I requested a break from mine other duties to devote time to my studies. E’en then I had many allies within the Cult of Sol Invictus, and in fact they maintained a modest country estate intended to help mares such as myself who found themselves with foals that, for one reason or another, they did not wish for.”
“And there thou didst bear thy hidden bastard?” Several seemingly innocuous facts fell into place. “Knight-Magus Shimmer?”
One of her eyebrows quirked up. “‘Tis that obvious?”
“Not to most, neigh,” I assured her. “But he is a bastard, a member of Sol Invictus, and a talented magus who from what I have seen is a capable pyromancer. And in the duel with Valiant Doo, thou didst chose to face Valiant thyself rather than let thy ... thy son do so.”
“All those things are true.” An almost proud smile grew ‘pon her face. “I admit, I have followed his career with great interest, though I have tried to keep my patronage subtle. I suspect he has inherited the talent to be an archmagus. I could hardly let him risk his life in a pointless scuffle with a common thug.”
“He is of thy blood.” Though she might have put him aside, ‘twas plain enough from the pride in her voice, that she felt some fondness for Daylight. Likely she would have kept him, if not for her o’erpowering ambitions. Pity Unicornia looked so poorly upon such births; certainly bearing many children that would have been bastards by unicorn standards did nothing to impede Bright’s own rise to the Ephorate. “Is that why thou didst keep Midnight? Some regret for lost chances with thine own child?”
“Perhaps so,” she allowed, her gaze dropping uncertainly to the floor. “Though it seems far too sentimental a reason. I confess, my first instinct was to kill the foal and be done with the matter. ‘Twas the safest course. She had been born with an evil purpose in mind, and as long as she lived, she would be a threat to all of Equestria. Why allow a being who had been bound to the Nightmare from the moment of her birth to live?”
“Yet instead, thou didst keep her.” I shook my head. “Neigh, far more than just keeping her. I have seen how thou dost look upon her, and she with thee. Thou hast raised her and come to care for her as if she were thine.”
Sunbeam rose from her chair, her eyes suddenly aflame and her teeth showing in an almost animal snarl. “She i s MINE! ”
I almost instinctively backed away from her, surprised by the sheer ferocity of her response. I had seen her frustrated, murderous, and enraged, but ne’er before had I felt such pure fury radiating from the mare.
She began pacing furiously back and forth ‘cross the room. “I had two purposes: first, to remove the taint of the Nightmare. Neigh, not merely remove it, but turn her own tool against her. Beyond that, I required an heir, somepony to carry on my legacy. So I made Midnight mine own.” She whirled to face me, drawing far closer than I cared for. “I performed rituals, secret ones only indirectly mentioned in the deepest recesses of our greatest arcane libraries. I took my blood and shards of mine own soul and gave them to Midnight. Made part of her me , as though she were of mine own body.”
She took a long breath, trying to regain her composure. “Aye, I wished to make her mine, but a part of it was also removing her ties to the Nightmare. ‘Twas mine hope that such efforts would remove the threat Midnight's life posed. I e’en removed whatever evidence I could that would link Midnight to what happened the night of her birth—burned documents, disposed of evidence, and ensured that all the cultists were summarily executed rather than brought back for trial. As near as anypony was to know, my daughter came out of the aether one day. Ponies would come to their own conclusions, and any of those were better than the truth of the matter.”
I frowned. “Yet it seems that for all thine efforts, some connection to the Nightmare remains.”
“So it does,” she snarled, resuming her furious pacing. “That was the flaw to my plan. There was one pony who knew the truth and whom I could not touch: the Nightmare herself, damn her dark heart. I became worried after the Avatar was created. Midnight started having her nightmares, and her behavior became unusual.” A faint, humorless mockery of a smile twisted her lips. “Strange e’en compared to her normal self. I gave her potions to deal with the dreams, and placed wards about her to prevent Nightmare Moon from intruding upon her. Yet it seems that my potions become less potent by the day, e’en after increasing the dosage and using rarer and more potent components. I dare not give her any more than I am already, else I might cause her some lasting harm. As for my wards ... thou didst reach thine own conclusions based on her behavior.”
I nodded gravely. “It seems the Nightmare's work is not so easily undone.”
“Neigh.” She snarled, smacking the remnants of her drink from the table in frustration. “This will not stand! I am not some helpless foal! I am Sunbeam Sparkle, the Archmagus of Canterlot, Grand Vizier of Unicornia! Bane of warlocks and destroyer of darkness. I am the one who will burn away the night, to forge a more glorious dawn for Equestria! The Avatar has no right to take Midnight from me! She is my daughter—mine! If the Nightmare thinks she can steal my child, then I shall show the world how an immortal dies!”
I set a calming hoof upon Sunbeam’s shoulder. “I have already pledged it to Midnight herself, but let me repeat it to thee. I will protect her from any who would bring her to harm, e’en if ‘tis the Nightmare herself.”
She nodded slowly, her face carefully unreadable. “I will hold thee to that. Midnight ... she is my daughter.” She said nothing more. As a mother, I knew nothing more needed to be said.
I smiled reassuringly. “Aye. What use is my strength, if I cannot protect a single innocent life? Especially one I have grown quite fond of.”
She met my smile with one of her own. “Aye, ‘tis so. And such gallantry should not go unrewarded.” She sauntered to my seat, then brazenly draped herself across me, pressing herself enticingly against my body. “I would be glad to reward thee in whate’er way thou wouldst desire.”
I did not rudely remove her, but I offered no encouragement to her advances, merely tolerating her presence. “Do not speak of such acts as mere rewards, and there is other business to be settled regardless.”
“Oh very well,” she huffed, seeming irritated with my rejection, but in no hurry to remove herself from me. “If the Nightmare has a hold o’er my daughter, that does bring up the question on what to do with her.” She scowled. “‘Twould not do for her to spy for our enemies, e’en if ‘tis not her intention.”
“I think ‘tis plain she cannot serve upon the walls any longer.” A faint grin crossed my face as I added, “I am sure she will be devastated to hear she can no longer carry water to our soldiers.”
Sunbeam chuckled, leaning in a way which felt far more genuine and pleasant than her earlier attempt to seduce me. “Aye, from the way she carried on, one would think I was sending her to be whipped and beaten in a salt mine.” She sighed, shaking her head. “There are times I wonder if I have spoiled her. ‘Tis hard to say, I suppose. I ... at her age, I did not enjoy the luxuries I can provide for her. Perhaps my adversities did grant me some of the strength I needed to grow to the mare I am today, but I hardly think she would grow to be a better magus with no books, meagre meals, and a small and uncomfortable bed.” She grimaced. “At least she will find being confined to my tower more tolerable than most. I can see to it she is provided with all the books she desires, and other comforts and luxuries to make the confinement less burdensome. And ‘twill be easy enough to explain away, given that she was placed in mortal peril during yesterday’s battle.”
“I expect thou canst ensure that she does not see anything that could damage our cause.” There would be many details to finalize for such an arrangement, but I was confident in Sunbeam’s ability to do so. There was another matter to raise, though. “Mayhaps the Commander might be able to aid thee in shielding her from the Nightmare?”
“She is my child,” Sunbeam growled. “It is for me to protect her. I will not go begging to the Queen to mewl of my weakness and beg for her aid.” For a long time she said nothing, merely looking into my eyes and pressing ‘gainst me. Finally she sighed heavily, her shoulders slumping in resignation. “Still, I will not have it said that I put my child in danger. If there is an avenue to make her safe that I failed to explore, and she comes to some harm because of that...”
I nodded, grasping her thoughts. “Better a wound to thy pride than a wound to thy daughter.”
She nodded reluctantly. “Mayhaps Her Majesty will have a solution. Though the Avatar is not wholly her sister, I expect the Queen will know much of the Nightmare’s power, and her mind. ‘Twould be foolish not to speak with her on the matter. Though this goes no further—only evil can come of more ponies learning the truth.”
“I will show the utmost discretion,” I assured her.
She nodded gratefully. “I am glad to hear it. Above nearly anything else, the Avatar cannot lay her hooves on Midnight. If she were ... ‘tis best just to prevent such a thing from happening, rather than speculate upon the consequences.”
“Agreed.” A part of me could not help but think just how far it might be necessary to go to keep young Midnight from the Avatar’s clutches. As hateful as the thought was, once it occurred to me I could not cast it from my mind. Far more troubling, I could not convince myself that it might not be necessary.
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Aidan Hall
En route to the palace dungeons to speak with Dusk Charger, I encountered a most unexpected and unwelcome distraction.
“Honored Shadow!”
I spared a quick glance to the side, noting that the speaker was one of the many unicorns drafted into the army’s ranks. The stallion stared up at me with a look of rapt admiration that I found most unsettling. He started slightly as mine eyes fell upon him, half-ducking his head as though he were tempted to outright bow to me. “Honored Shadow, I am ... it is truly an honor to—the honor that you do me flatters my ... my honor.”
“I see. Good day.” I turned away from him and proceeded, not wanting to do anything further to encourage such displays. Alas, it seemed that I had already done too much, for soon I had acquired a small coterie of followers dogging my heels. While they did not impede my progress or do anything to directly trouble me, the mere fact that they existed was aggravating. I had not asked to become such an exalted figure, and were it not for Sunbeam’s manipulations, I ne’er would have. ‘Twas enough to make me question whether I had made a grave error in beginning to become somewhat fond of the mare, for all her flaws.
I am sure I made quite the ridiculous sight, strolling down the streets of Canterlot followed by a ragged horde of o’er a dozen off-duty soldiers and civilians. I was almost tempted to turn about and lay into them with the flats of my blades until they ceased this foolishness. Howe’er, such behavior would hardly be proper for the leader of Canterlot’s defenses, regardless of how provoked I had been. Much as it irked me, I had become a symbol to the ponies of Canterlot. ‘Twould be improper to act like a violent brute with mine own subordinates.
Thus, I decided upon a gentler approach. Perhaps if I acknowledged my followers and said a few words, they would be satisfied and depart, allowing me to continue in peace. I took a moment to gather my thoughts, then turned about the face the ponies trailing in my wake.
A hush fell over the street. Not only did the fervent admirers cease their aggravating murmurs of devotion, but many of the ponies who had been continuing about their business paused to watch and listen as they realized that I intended to address the crowd. ‘Twould seem that mine idea had already hit upon a problem: if mine attempt to disperse the mob only resulted in doubling its size, I might well give in to despair.
I cleared my throat, then began. “Yesterday, the Avatar tried to take our city. She came with the full strength of her army, intending to break our gates, slaughter our soldiers, and tear down our homes. It is a day after she attempted to destroy us, and we are still here.”
Unfortunately, it seemed that mine effort to sate the crowd had the opposite effect. Acknowledging them only seemed to fire their enthusiasm, and many within the crowd drew nearer and began to bombard me with a torrent of random questions and requests.
“Honored Shadow, my husband fought with you at the Southern Gates. He is a skilled warrior, and nothing would honor us more than if you would see fit to—”
“Honored Shadow, my wife perished in the fighting yesterday. Can you tell me ... did she suffer? Was it at least quick, clean, and painless?”
“Honored Shadow, can we win this war? I have heard that we’ve only a week’s food remaining in the city, and the army surrounding us has ten warriors for every one of ours!”
“Not to mention the Nightmare!” Another member of crowd called out. “The rebel army is led by the greatest general in Equestria’s history, and an alicorn who might be more powerful than e’en Celestia herself! How can we hope to stand against such strength?!”
A worried murmur passed through the crowd, and the adoration I saw in the eyes of mine admirers faded, with fear taking its place. I hesitated a moment, torn ‘tween two options. I knew ‘twas my duty to calm their fears, yet I could not shake the feeling that doing so would only further their irksome devotion to me. ‘Twas bothersome enough that Sunbeam and Midnight were paying the bards and tale-tellers to build my legend. I could at least take some solace from the fact that their actions were neither desired nor condoned by me. But if I spread of mine own accomplishments in the field, or of my battle with the Avatar...
‘Twould be crossing a line. No longer would I be an unwilling target of Sunbeam’s campaign, I would have taken the first steps towards accepting it. A very small step, mayhaps, but e’en that much unsettled me. I had no wish to encourage further veneration.
And yet, what choice did I have? I could not let fear and doubt take root in the hearts of Canterlot’s citizens. Above all else, sieges are a matter of morale. If the ponies within the walls believed our cause to be hopeless, ‘twas only a matter of time ere one of them threw open the gates and welcomed the rebel army in simply to put an end to their tribulations. Ponies will not live on half-rations for months on end unless they truly believe in their cause.
Much as I disliked it, becoming something of an icon to the common ponies within the city was preferable to allowing morale to collapse. And so, e’er mindful of my duty to Commander Celestia and the realm, I reluctantly raised my voice so that ‘twould carry o’er all the crowd. “The Avatar is not Luna, nor is she e’en the Nightmare. She is a pony imbued with a portion of the Nightmare’s essence and granted the appearance of an alicorn, aye. Yet, she remains mortal. I met her in battle at the Southern Gates. My blades cut into her flesh, and she bled like any other pony. When I wounded her, she fled rather than continue the battle. I defeated her in single combat, and I assure all of thee that this city will defeat her armies and bring the war to a successful conclusion.”
Stunned silence met my declaration, the mass of ponies staring up at me with wide eyes. Finally, one voice shouted out, “Hail Shadow! Shadow Selenicanus!” (1) To mine intense dismay, other ponies took up the cry. ‘Twould seem I would now be doomed to suffer an unwanted attachment to my very name itself.
1: One old unicornian practice was to attach an honor name to a general who won a particularly notable victory. For example, Luna herself was declared Luna Gryphicanus after leading the Liberation of Manehattan from gryphon occupation.
Ere I could find a suitable excuse to flee the scene, an e’en greater horror emerged. A mare, and a quite pregnant one judging by her swollen belly, strode to the front of the crowd. “Honored Shadow Selenicanus, might I beg a boon of thee. I ... my husband passed in the fighting, and ... I would beg thy blessing for our child.”
“My blessing?” I repeated incredulously. Did these ponies truly think that just because I had driven back the Avatar in a single battle I had some manner of special power? That I could somehow offer divine rewards to those who asked for them? ‘Twas utterly preposterous.
My first instinct was to state exactly that and send the mare on her way. And yet, something about the hopeful, almost desperate look in her eyes made me hesitate. A voice within mine own mind, one I fancied sounded like Sunbeam’s, began to wear at my resolve. Would it truly be so onerous to speak a few words to the poor widow? E’en if my blessing had no value, ‘twould surely calm the fears and pain within her heart. Would it not be heartlessly cruel to stomp upon her last hope for her child’s future, merely because I was feeling modest? Surely offering a few simple words of comfort would be the decent course.
I stepped forward, gently placing a hoof o’er her belly. “So be it. Though I cannot say what value it holds, thy child has my blessing.” The relieved smile that spread across the mare’s face at mine empty words made me all the more certain that I had chosen the proper course. Feeling somewhat more certain of myself, I asked, “Does the child have a name?”
“Not as of yet,” she confessed, her eyes nervously darting up to me. “I had wondered if ... I would not want to seem presumptuous, but if you would not object, I would be deeply honored if you would allow me to name the child after you, Honored Shadow.”
In lieu of giving voice to my true feelings of dismay on the matter, I opted for a carefully neutral, “Ah.” I was tempted to modestly refuse the offer, but I feared I would either wound her pride by seeming rude, or my refusal would somehow further enhance my prestige by giving me an unwanted reputation for humility.
Perhaps I had become committed to this course the instant I allowed Sunbeam to continue inflating my reputation. Once I had accepted that I would not only be a leader, but a reluctant icon. No matter how much I disliked my reputation, by not repudiating it I had embraced it. There was nothing left to do but reap what I had sown. “I would not presume to ask that thou wouldst name thy child after me. If ‘tis thy wish to do so, I would be most honored, but I am sure there are more worthy ponies. Mayhaps the child’s father?”
Alas, she did not hear my words. She gently stroked her belly, smiling down at it. “So be it. My child has a name: Shade Ingot.”
I sighed, but accepted that I could do nothing to change this regrettable development without causing e’en worse troubles. Hopefully my visit to the palace dungeons would not go so poorly.
I found Dusk Charger cooling his hooves in the cell next to Rightly’s. He lay listlessly on a simple cot, staring up at the ceiling with almost blank eyes. At first he did not e’en seem to have noticed that I had entered. When I cleared my throat his eyes flicked to me, and after a long moment he slowly rose from his bed, attempting to at least offer the appearance of dignity. “Shadow. I suppose 'tis no surprise that you have come to see me. Tell me, how fares my sister? She does not seem to be in any of the cells near mine own.”
I leaned against the wall, keeping a careful eye on the young Charger. For all his seeming listlessness at the moment, ‘twas entirely possible that he was simply trying to lull me into dropping my guard ere he struck. Regardless, his question was an entirely reasonable one. “Last I heard, Dawn was employed with the other chirurgeons. There are still many wounded from yesterday’s battle in need of treatment, and she is of far more use tending them than locked in a cell. So long as she does not use her freedom to attempt to escape, I see no reason not to allow her to aid us.”
Dusk sighed and listlessly nodded along. “Aye, that is how we treat your medics when we take them. Though I do worry for her safety, given the name she carries and who our mother is.”
I grimaced and shook my head. “That is ... reasonable.” Loathe as I was to admit it, there were no doubt some within Canterlot who would be tempted to take revenge against the Avatar by striking at her children. Though our cause was honorable, not all who fought for it would be paragons of virtue, especially after a long, hard siege. Howe’er, I would not tolerate such behavior. “I give my word that thy sister will be safe so long as she remains within Canterlot’s walls. By blood, she is as much a Kicker as she is a Charger. She is entitled to the protection of my clan during these troubled times.”
Dusk snorted bitterly, shifting about on his cot. “I am sure that if she is e’er freed, Swift and his lackeys will enjoy reminding all who would listen that her Kicker blood spared her.” His eyes flicked to me. “And I do wonder if shared blood is as strong a bond as you would say. One of thy fathers was a Striker, but that has not stopped you from cutting down Strikers when you meet them upon the field of battle. Or e’en your own clan, and your own father.”
I did not care for that truth, but ‘twas a truth nonetheless. “That is on the battlefield. We all have our duties there, whate’er we might prefer. Howe’er, Dawn is not an armed soldier struggling to kill my clanponies, but an unarmed medic tending their wounds. That is a distinction of vital importance, and one I will not allow any warrior under my command to forget.”
Dusk’s eyes lingered on me for several long moments, then he slowly nodded. “Then you have my thanks for that, at least. And ... for what the word of a prisoner who has every reason to attempt to curry your favor is worth, I have applied similar principles in seeing to your daughter’s treatment within our camp. Though we may be enemies, that does not mean we cannot treat one another with honor.”
“Aye, that much is true.” I took a breath, then asked the question that had pressed most heavily ‘pon my mind for the last several days. “How fares my child?”
Dusk slowly rose from his bed, moving to sit on the edge of the cot. “When I last saw her, she was well…” His mouth twitched slightly in a frown as he seemed to realize he was perhaps not using the most fitting of words, “Miserable on account of her situation—captivity does not agree with her—but she was well in body, at least.”
I grunted and nodded. “How badly has she been mistreated?”
Dusk’s eyes narrowed. “Not so badly. I have not allowed it.” He grimaced. “Though it has not always been easy. Swift would have enjoyed making a public spectacle of having her flogged. While Mother will listen to reason, he whispers poison into her ears whene’er I am not present to prevent it.”
The dread that had hung o’er my heart e’er since the Avatar had announced her intentions finally faded. “Truly? Thou didst save her from that? Then I am in thy debt.” Ere I could know too much relief, I realized the uglier implications of his words. Though he had shielded Gale from abuse in the past, he could hardly continue to do so from a prison cell.
A wry grin crossed his lips. “I suspect Mother intends to wed me to her once the war is done, so that the Kickers will accept the new leadership of Pegasopolis and the wounds of civil war might be healed. I could hardly allow my future wife to be mistreated so publicly. And my good conduct does seem to have made her despise me slightly less than she once did. She did not e’en attempt to mistreat me for the rest of the day.” He trailed off, then shook his head. “Though I would not have you think I acted as I did to curry her favor. I did what was right. There seems to be too little of that these days.”
“Far too little,” I agreed grimly. After a moment’s thought, I chose to attempt amicable conversation, for the moment. He might let slip some important item of intelligence if he saw me as a friend. “Thou hast told me of my child, and I of thy sister. It seems rude not to ask after the remainder of thy family.”
Dusk’s face darkened, and one of his hooves ground against the floor. “I think you would know a good deal about the condition of my family. Though I do not believe you intended to slay Lance, she would yet live were it not for your actions. I would say that I have buried a brother as well, but Sunbeam Sparkle did not leave behind enough to allow us a proper burial. And let us not forget the dearest friend I had, slain by your warriors in the tunnels beneath this accursed city. Her daughter is an orphan now, all because of this damnable war. Do not think that just because I treat your daughter well and speak courteously to you, I have forgotten all the ills I have suffered at your army’s hooves.”
I sighed and nodded grimly. I could hardly deny the truth of his words. “Aye, thou hast lost much to this conflict. But do not think that thou art unique in that. I too have buried kin and friends, as has almost every pony within this city. That is the cruelty of war, and the even sharper cuts that civil war inflicts. We both speak of the righteousness that shall follow our victory, but I find myself wondering what will become of Equestria once this madness ends. Could I truly stand in the halls of the Ephorate and name as brothers and sisters the ponies I once fought against? Certainly there can be no peace ‘tween the Avatar and I, and I fear this tale shall be repeated a thousand times o’er. How can we hope for peace when we yearn to avenge the fallen in our hearts? And how many more will die in the quest for vengeance, starting the cycle anew?”
Dusk grunted, lying back on his cot once more. “I fear you might be correct. Perhaps I should dream of cutting you down to exact righteous retribution, but in truth ... I am simply too tired. I am weary of all this death and violence. In the last battle, the only thing that gave me the strength to carry on was the thought that my victory might finally put an end to this madness. I have found that war is not nearly so glorious as so many of the elders in the Gerousia insisted.”
“Neigh, I have found little glory on the battlefield.” My shoulders slumped. “In truth, there are times when e’en the grand cause I fight for is of little concern to me. Though I still believe the Avatar must be stopped and Celestia supported, I do not pray for victory. Only that I will not be forced to bury any more of my loved ones. I had hoped thy sister might bring an end to this war, and instead her death made the conflict all the sharper.”
Dusk’s eyes narrowed, and a faint growl entered his voice. “’Twas not Lance’s death that made the war so cruel. I confess, if I saw one of your soldiers on the verge of striking down Swift Blade, I would do nothing to stop it. Though by law he may be my commander, this war took a foul turn on his account. ‘Twas he who allowed the warlocks within our ranks and prompted them to transform my mother.”
In his anger, I saw an opportunity. “It seems thou dost hate him far more than thou dost me, or any who fight at Celestia’s side. I wonder if perhaps thou art—”
“If you wish for this conversation to remain civil, I would advise not finishing that sentence,” Dusk snapped, his teeth clenching furiously. “Aye, I hate Swift Blade. Far more than I hate you or any who fight alongside Celestia. Do not think that means I would e’en consider turning against my mother. She has been changed, yes, but she is still my mother. I would not betray my nation simply for hate of one ephor.” He rose from the cot, standing and facing me directly. “As for who is the cause of my current misery, much depends on how you view matters. One could argue that this war would have ended quickly if not for you taking your clan to fight for Celestia. With the Kickers at our side, Celestia would have lost a skilled battle leader and a core of experienced warriors. Sunbeam, Crossguard, and Greenwall would have challenged us, but not so badly as you did. And that is assuming that they would e’en remain loyal and carry on the war in the face of such hopeless odds. If not for you, this war might already be o’er and I would not have buried so many whom I loved.”
“Would it comfort thee to know that I have questioned myself many times?” I asked, standing my ground against him. “And that when I have not, Gale has? I have suffered more than one sleepless night, wondering if I should have thrown my lot in with the other Ephors. They once considered naming me as Commander, that I might repair relations ‘tween Pegasopolis and the rest of Equestria. I refused, for I felt that to accept would be to signal mine agreement with the decision to remove Celestia. Now I must always wonder what would have happened had I taken the offer. I might have prevented this entire war.”
I stepped back, resting against the wall. “But then, so many others might also have prevented the war, had they chosen differently. Had the other Ephors allowed Celestia the chance to correct her errors rather than meet her words with suspicion. Had Sunbeam not seen the growing tensions as a chance to advance her own agenda. Or had the earth ponies not ended their election with a murder. There is blame enough to spread across all Equestria.”
“Aye, though I wonder how many of us will accept it.” He fell back upon his cot once more, the fire seeming to leave him. “Does it e’en matter why the war began, or who is at fault? We no longer e’en fight for the cause we once championed—gone are the days when we dreamed of a free Equestria’s destiny lying in mortal hooves. I suspect that now many of our soldiers fight not for any high ideals, but simply because they see you and yours as the enemy. The war has become its own justification.” His tone was now raw with pain. Dusk, it seemed, had at last fully left all his youth behind—he spoke as wearily as any grey-bearded veteran I had ever known.
He slowly ran a hoof down his face. “I wish my sister were here. She was the only one who might have forged an end to this madness, and she was not e’en given the opportunity to die in battle. They will sing no ballads of Lance Charger or how she died in a medic’s bed because she suffered a bout of ill fortune. She deserved better.”
“She deserved to live,” I answered simply. After a moment’s consideration, I revealed a secret that likely no longer needed to be kept. “Celestia had grand plans for her. She felt Lance was the key to reuniting Equestria. She intended to raise her to an alicorn, and mayhaps e’en offer her Luna’s old throne. I did not know Lance as well as I would have liked, but I think that she would have made a fine queen.”
Dusk’s eyes went wide with surprise, and he stared at me for some time. “My sister? An alicorn queen, ruling at Celestia’s side? I ... I confess, I cannot imagine such a thing. But I do wish I could have had the chance to see it.” He sighed, scuffing a hoof along the floor. “Certainly I would prefer bowing to Queen Lance o’er burying her, and all the other miseries I have suffered. Lance and Thunder dead, Flash half-mad with grief, and Dawn suffering a thousand barbed comments simply because half her blood comes from your clan. And Shield ... my youngest brother is far too young to witness war in all its cruelty.”
“We have all lost far too much,” I agreed. “And I fear we shall lose e’en more ere this is ended.”
He nodded glumly. “That, I think, is the one thing we can all agree upon.” He tapped the floor. “But I suspect you will seek to find more common ground than that. I have little else to occupy my time in a cell, so make your case. What would you persuade me of?”
“In truth, I do not e'en know,” I confessed. “I think ‘tis plain enough that thou wouldst not turn against the Avatar, whate’er I offered.”
“She is my mother,” Dusk answered simply. “I would no sooner turn against her than Gale would betray you.”
I prudently opted not to mention that I had mine own fears about whether my daughter’s loyalty was as absolute as I had once believed. ‘Twould only bring me misery to dwell upon such things. “But the Avatar is not thy mother,” I argued. “Not wholly.”
“But something of her is my mother,” he countered. “I do not understand all that has changed within her. In truth, not e’en Hidden Facts does, and he is the one who brought those changes about. Howe’er, she yet holds to mother’s sense of honor, and her rage at Lance’s death burns as hot as it did before her transformation. I may have concerns, but I am her loyal son.”
I had expected no other answer, yet my duty had required that the request be made. And ‘twould perhaps make him more amenable to the true offer. “Let us speak of Swift Blade, then. It seems that for all our differences, we share an enemy in him.”
Dusk frowned, bringing a hoof up to his chin. “That may well be true. The lines for that have become far grayer than I like. He is certainly no friend of mine, and I think much would improve if he were to die. I am sure you feel much the same way, given that he leads the armies arrayed against you.” He sighed and fell back upon his cot, despondent. “Howe’er, there is a vast gulf ‘tween desiring his removal and bringing it to reality. He has stacked the Ephorate with his puppets. They know their position would be lost if he were to fall, and so they stand firmly with him. Steel is the only one who might support his removal, and he has only one of the five votes. While Mother could remove him without a vote, e’er since her change she has been difficult to anticipate. She would ne’er have entertained Swift’s plan to abuse your daughter had she been in her right mind.”
“Then it seems we must find another means of removing him.” I turned my mind to the matter, pleased that Dusk had already begun to see common cause with me. He was hardly on the verge of defection, but I would settle for his cooperation in Swift Blade’s downfall. “I doubt he would e’er place himself on the battlefield, especially not after his duel with Greenwall.” A faint smile crossed my face. “A pity thou didst not witness him fleeing and hiding from a mere earth pony. Such open cowardice would certainly offer ground to challenge his right to lead, and given that he could not win against a militia captain...”
Dusk grinned and snorted. “I expect my youngest brother could defeat him in single combat.” Howe’er, his smile faded quickly. “Alas, he is all too aware of that fact. His rank provides some insulation against challenges from among the common soldiery, and he will certainly exercise his right to refuse if I were to declare him a coward.” He grimaced and amended, “I expect he would only accept if he knew for certain that one of the warlocks would be willing to serve as his champion. While I am confident that I could beat Swift, I have heard it said that Hidden stood against Sunbeam Sparkle and gave a good account of himself. I am no coward, but I do not have my mother’s skills as a duelist. The last time I stood against an archmagus in battle, Sierra and I both would have died if not for Lance’s intervention. I would not throw my life away.”
“Art thou so certain any would stand with him with his cowardice revealed?” I pressed. “Swift makes a poor ally. It may be that e’en the warlocks would see no benefit in continuing to prop up such a weak leader.”
The rebel shrugged helplessly. “I cannot say with certainty. By their very nature, warlocks are treacherous and unpredictable. I am certain Hidden would betray Swift without hesitation if he believed ‘twould be to his advantage to do so, but I am wary about what it would take to convince him I am the better alternative. And of course, he would betray me just as quickly.” He ran a hoof through his mane. “Swift is a weak and vulnerable leader, but it may be that Hidden prefers that. If the only thing keeping Swift from being deposed is the warlocks’ support, then Swift would have little choice but to give in to anything the warlocks demand of him. I would certainly be in a far better position to oppose him, if I were to take Swift’s place.”
“Then it seems a challenge is a less than ideal tactic.” I would certainly not wish to trust our fortunes to the whims of a warlock. Such a course could only end badly. Howe’er, if Swift could not be challenged or defeated in a vote... “Some added factor is needed for our plans to succeed. I think perhaps the flaw lies in the challenger.” I paused, inclining my head to him. “Meaning no offense, but thy rank is low enough that he has more options to respond to thee. If another member of the Ephorate were to personally name him as a coward, he could not leave the matter to a warlock. Couldst thou persuade Steel to issue such a challenge?”
Dusk drew in a sharp breath, and his gaze slowly fell to the floor. “It ... may be possible, aye. But I fear such a course would not be wise.” He took a deep breath, as though steeling himself to face a difficult truth. “Steel Striker should have retired to the Gerousia. His wounds are too severe for anything else. The only reason he has not given up his seat is fear that Swift would replace him with another puppet. It may be that he is so crippled that e’en as poor a warrior as Swift could defeat him. If that were to happen, he would have successfully defended himself against the charge of cowardice, and we would lose the only sane voice remaining on the Ephorate. And ... Steel deserves a better death than one at Swift Blade’s hooves.”
Grim as the news was, I should not have been surprised by it. Steel had been wounded just as savagely as Crossguard during their duel, and he was only a few years younger than the old Grandmaster. While an old warrior can still fight fiercely, wounds that a younger soldier could recover from in a matter of days heal far slower on an old and battered body.
Howe’er, not all hope was lost. “There is one other whose challenge Swift would be unable to ignore. One other who he would have to personally face in battle.”
“And who would that be?” Dusk asked. “The Ephorate does not recognize you as a member, and he would certainly ignore any challenge you offered.”
“I do not intend to challenge him.” A faint smile spread across my lips as my plan took shape. “I had somepony in mind. The stallion sitting in the cell next to thee.”
Though I knew the next step to my rapidly forming plan, I needed a moment to prepare myself to take it. It was no small thing I had in mind—if my plan succeeded, I would shift the entire course of the war. ‘Twas nearly as bold as what Commander Celestia had intended to achieve with Lance, and indeed the two plans were in much the same vein: to take a current enemy and turn them into an asset that might end the war in a single stroke. I could only hope that my plan would not end so badly as the Commander’s had.
Once I believed myself ready to face Rightly Doo, ‘twas simple enough to see it done. I had the keys to his cell along with Dusk’s. It seemed that his prolonged captivity had not agreed with the stallion who might have been my husband in better times. His mane had grown somewhat ragged and unkempt, and his face now sported the beginnings of a scraggly beard. Likely his jailors had been reluctant to provide him with a blade to groom himself, though I could hardly blame them for such caution. I also noted a certain slackness to his frame, as though the muscles built by a lifetime of training had begun to fade. Small surprise, given how long it had been since he had enjoyed any time outside his cell.
His eyes, somewhat more sunken than I remembered, fixed upon me as I entered his cell. “Shadow. It has been some time. I had begun to wonder if you had forgotten me.”
“Never.” Despite all that had happened, a part of me wanted to smile at seeing him again. “How does the day find th—” I caught myself ere I could slip into the old familiarity I had once shared with him. “How does the day find you? ”
Rightly’s face shifted to a carefully impartial mask, though he gave no other reaction to my choice of words. Though the fact that he felt the need to guard his emotions from mine eyes spoke plainly of his state of mind. “The day passes tolerably enough, or at least as tolerable as any day in a dungeon can. Yourself?”
“I have some frustrations,” I admitted. “Some of them seem rather petty and unimportant in a city under siege. Howe’er, a plan to solve some of the most pressing matters is forming.”
“I did not think you had come merely for a social call.” His eyes flicked to the wall where his cell joined Dusk’s. “Unless Dusk’s other neighbor is particularly interesting, I presume you were referring to me during your discussion with him?” A wry grin briefly ghosted across his lips. “I thought it difficult to keep a secret in a war camp. Dungeons are far worse in that regard. A prison’s bars do a poor job of muffling conversations.”
I grunted and nodded, not surprised in the least. “I presume you know why I have come to you, then?”
He settled back onto his cot, though his eyes never left mine. “You hope to use me to remove Swift—and unless I miss my guess, you intend to free me from this prison to see it done. I admit, any plan which involves releasing me has mine attention. It is most unpleasant to be a helpless observer to the great war to determine the future of Equestria. Howe’er, I have yet to be convinced that I should help you against your enemies to earn my freedom.”
Though I had hoped he would not be difficult, I had not truly expected it. Captivity had made him wary of kindness, and in truth my goals were hardly altruistic. “Swift Blade is not just mine enemy, he is yours as well. You do not care for him any more than I do, else you would not have exiled him to Manehattan when first he consorted with warlocks. I cannot imagine you approve of the course he has taken in your absence.”
He scowled. “If half of what Dusk tells me is truth, he has destroyed the very cause we went to war for. He has shamed the name and reputation of Pegasopolis in ways that would take lifetimes to cleanse.” He paused a moment, then carefully repeated, “If what Dusk tells me is true.”
“You do realize I can hear you, Commander Rightly,” Dusk groused from the adjoining cell.
“And I do not wish to question thy honor,” Rightly answered. “Howe’er, these are uncertain times. By thine own admission, Swift is very much thine enemy, and thou wouldst do much to see him and his works undone. But whate’er else Swift may be, he is also an Ephor of Pegasopolis. I would prefer to see the truth of thy charges with mine own eyes ere I condemn him for any crime.”
“That is only reasonable,” I allowed. “And if that is so, then it is most fortunate that I am willing to offer you the opportunity to see and speak with him once more.”
Rightly’s eyes fixed upon me, narrowing suspiciously. “You would so readily release me? You will forgive me for doubting the word of a fellow clan leader, but I find that hard to believe after months of captivity.”
I could hardly blame him for his wariness, given the circumstances. Especially when he was right to be cautious. “I am not making this offer out of the kindness of my heart. There are conditions to your release.”
“I expected nothing less.” He took a deep breath and squared his chest. “Very well. Name them, and I will decide if your price is worth paying.”
I wasted no time naming my first demand. “Gale.”
Rightly answered with a shallow nod. “I had already assumed you would demand her return. I have no objection to it.”
“I will have your word on it, or you will ne'er leave this cell,” I assured him.
“My word?” He blinked, staring at me with a confused frown. “Why would you require that? Surely you intend to exchange me for Gale.”
“No.” I grimaced and shook my head. “After what happened with Lance, I do not think 'twould be wise to attempt a formal prisoner exchange. ‘Twould only remind the Avatar of her loss, and likely prompt her to lash out at my child. Howe'er, my plan is to install you as the new warleader of Pegasopolis. Once you are secure in your position, it would be well within your authority to order Gale’s release.”
He took a deep breath, then slowly nodded. “So be it, then. You have my word of honor, as an ephor and warrior of Pegasopolis. As soon as I am able, I will see to it that Gale is released from her captivity and returned to you. It is a small enough price to pay for securing the future of Pegasopolis and mine own freedom.”
With that matter settled, I moved on to the more contentious point. “Second, both you and Dusk must swear a parole oath upon your release.” (2)
2: An old custom for dealing with prisoners of war during a period of time when maintaining large numbers of POWs would have consumed excessive resources. The prisoners would be released on the condition that they swear not take up arms again for a set period of time, usually the duration of the war. Naturally, there was quite a bit of variation on the exact definition of what constituted ‘taking up arms.’ Violating a parole oath was usually seen as grounds for summary execution if the violator was captured again.
Rightly grunted and nodded. “I will need to hear the exact oath ere I agree swear it, but so long as it is not grossly unreasonable I do not see any reason to object to it. I presume Gale will be held to the same conditions that we will?”
“She will not,” I countered. “Her release will be free and without condition. She will not be placed under any obligation that would impede her ability to serve me in whate’er capacity I would ask of her.”
A faint frown flickered across his face. “That is not an equal bargain.”
“We are not making an equal exchange,” I rejoined. “Gale is my daughter, and I love her dearly, but she is only the heir to my clan, while you are a clan leader, Ephor, and at the time of your capture Acting Commander of Pegasopolis. Not to mention I am releasing Dusk as well, and the both of you will be released before Gale. You are correct, it is not an equal bargain. E’en with Gale being released free of obligation, this accord favors you heavily.”
“Then perhaps there should be more equal terms.” Rightly’s eyes flicked to wall separating his cell from Dusk’s. “Though I hesitate to say it, I see little reason to free both myself and Dusk in exchange for your daughter. If only one of us were released in exchange for Gale...”
“You do know I can still hear you, Commander,” Dusk groused again from his adjoining cell.
“I do not think either one of you would suffice alone,” I argued. “As you have said, Rightly, you have been long absent from the rebel camp. Dusk knows who stands against Swift and who supports him. E’en if he briefs you at length regarding the current politics within the rebel army, it is a poor substitute for having him present. Not to mention he cannot serve as your ally from a dungeon cell. You need his help, and his freedom. That freedom comes with a price.”
He grimaced and conceded the point with a reluctant wave. “So be it, Gale may return to your side, and from there return to the battlefield once more without loss of honor. Nor will she be considered an oathbreaker if captured again,” a faint smile flicked across his face. “Though if that should happen, she will not be released unless you manage to strike a new bargain with me. Not to mention what it would say about the quality of her training.”
The jest surprised me, though perhaps it should not have. Small wonder Rightly would be in such a good mood when he was on the verge of regaining his freedom.
“Well then,” Rightly continued, “It seems that the next order of business is the oath itself. I confess that after months in a cell, I would be reluctant to immediately hurl myself back upon the battlefield regardless. While I am far from crippled, the blade is no longer as keen as it once was. Celestia’s guards ne’er allowed me a spear to practice with. Though I expect my skills will return to me quickly enough.”
“It matters little if they do,” I grunted out. “You will not take up arms against myself, Sunbeam, Commander Celestia, or any soldiers sworn to our cause for the duration of this conflict. Nor will you order any soldiers under your authority to do so.”
“You would deny me the chance to earn any glory on the battlefield, or e’en lead my soldiers to victory?” He shook his head. “Neigh. I have not lingered so long in prison, only to return to an army I cannot take into battle. Nor could I ask any soldier to go to war when I could not join them. A commander who cannot fight alongside their soldiers has no right to send them to battle. Such terms are cruel.”
I met his gaze unflinchingly. “And if I offer more generous terms? Yes, you would lead your soldiers to battle, and gain whate’er honor and glory you feel you lost during your captivity. And you would kill my soldiers to do so. If I release you, every soldier who dies at your hooves is my responsibility. As a commanding officer, I intend to take all steps needed to ensure that none of the warriors who have entrusted their lives to me die needlessly.”
“Your terms are harsh indeed.” Rightly sighed, his shoulders slumping in resignation. “But your position is strong. I am your prisoner. It is the way of the strong to extract concessions from those in a weaker position. Much as I dislike it, removing Swift and his warlocks from command of our armies is more important than one stallion’s pride. I can endure such terms to gain my freedom and save Pegasopolis from Swift’s tyranny.” He scoffed, squaring his shoulders. “I am not so vain as to think that I am the only one capable of leading Pegasopolis’ armies in battle. Once I have set my house in order, I will find new leaders to carry on the cause. Mayhaps absent Swift’s poisonous influence Bright will also remember her old self. Or perhaps Dusk—if Gale is to be unbound, he should be as well. I think that a small enough request.”
Though I felt ‘twas a concession I had no need to make when the bargain already favored Rightly considerably, it cost me little if ‘twould win his consent. “So be it then. Dusk will be released from any obligation once my daughter is returned. His freedom for hers. Howe’er, I will further require that you will not immediately step down as clan leader or commander of Pegasopolis' forces. Your oaths have little value if you can simply stand aside and allow others to violate them.”
Rightly’s eyes widened. “That is a condition far beyond what a normal parole entails.”
“It is,” I conceded. “I suspect I have spent too much time associating with Sunbeam Sparkle. I prefer an oath that best serves my goals and offers no easy means to bypass it to one that respects all the traditional forms.”
His gaze lingered on me for some time, as though trying to decide how best to respond. When he finally spoke, there was an undercurrent of tension in his words. “If I were to agree to such an oath, it would be tantamount to surrendering Pegasopolis to you. I would be a commander who could not order a single one of my soldiers into battle. Why maintain the pretense of parole at all? Simply demand that I agree to surrender here and now.”
A cold smile flickered across his lips. “But of course you cannot do that. You know as well as I do that my soldiers would not feel bound by a surrender I ordered whilst in your custody. Though if you think freeing me and binding my honor would suffice to win them o’er, you are mistaken. If I did as you asked I would soon share Swift’s fate. I would be declared a coward by all of Pegasopolis—or worse, that Sunbeam had put a spell 'pon me.”
“I think you underestimate the strength of your reputation,” I answered levelly. “No warrior who knows you would believe you a weakling or traitor. If you call for peace, many would accept that ‘tis the proper course.”
Rightly grimaced and shook his head. “I think you overestimate my value. I expect my prestige has somewhat diminished during mine absence. And e’en at the height of mine influence, there were limits to it. Bright was ne’er one to back away from a fight once battle was joined, and that was before she lost children to this war and underwent her transformation. She would ne’er accept it, nor would the rest of Pegasopolis.” He sighed and began to reach towards me, only to let his hoof fall. “Shadow, I understand what it is you wish. A return to better times. I yearn for it as badly as you do, but I do not think it can happen. The war has come too far. Honorable warriors will not lay aside their arms and have all this death and destruction be for naught. It will not stop until one side or the other claims victory.”
“I do not believe that is so.” I stepped back, so that he would not be able to draw so near to me again. “Do you think the ponies fighting along the walls or laboring in the tunnels truly care so much for victory? I suspect most of them only desire victory because ‘twould mean an end to this madness. They would welcome peace in whate’er form it took.” I took a breath, straightening myself and standing firm. “You have my terms. If you will not agree to them, then it seems we must leave Swift in command.”
Rightly’s eyes narrowed. “This goes too far, Shadow. If I agreed to your terms, I would be remembered as a traitor to Pegasopolis itself. My name would be stricken from the rolls of the Ephorate and my clan, the memory of my words and deeds damned to oblivion. I must do as my conscience dictates.”
“If your conscience dictates that you allow a false Ephor who has betrayed all you believe in to remain in command and drag Pegasopolis into darkness, then I question the value of it,” I snapped out. “When our honor becomes a shackle that prevents us from doing what is right, then it is no longer honor. It has become something else entirely, a twisted parody of its true meaning. What true code of honor could demand that you stand aside and allow evil to occur?”
“You know full well it is not that simple,” Rightly growled. “Your demands would cripple me ere I e’en took command, and mayhaps cause e’en greater evils than mine inaction.” His eyes narrowed, and voice dropped to a low whisper. “Think carefully before questioning my honor again. Though we stand on opposite sides, you still hold a measure of my respect. Do not make me change mine opinion on that.”
“If I must lose your respect to end this war, then I would consider it a bargain.” I closed mine eyes and took a long breath, then slowly turned my back upon him. “It seems you will not listen to reason. So be it then.”
I had only taken two steps towards the door ere Rightly called out to me. “You say it is I who will not see reason? Look to yourself! Are you truly willing to abandon Gale to Swift’s mercies when I was more than willing to return her under any reasonable terms? Think carefully on the consequences of that choice. I heard what Dusk said, how he saved your daughter from suffering mistreatment at Swift’s hooves. So long as he remains in a Canterlot dungeon, he can do little to protect her from any future threats.”
The thought certainly weighed heavily upon my mind, but then it had troubled me e’er since I learned of Gale’s captivity. “I have my duty to Equestria as a whole that must take precedence. If I allow you to return to war so that I may save my daughter, how many more children will perish? Do I tell the thousands who must bury their children that my child was worth more than theirs?” I took in a breath, trying to make myself believe my next words. “I do not think the Avatar would be so quick to harm Gale when I hold two of her own children as hostages. I could redouble any injury my daughter suffers.”
“Could you?” Rightly questioned. “The Shadow I knew would not punish a child for the sins of the mother. And e’en if you could, would it be worth the risk? If Gale dies, would executing two of Bright’s children heal the hole left behind in your heart? I think staining your hooves with innocent blood would only worsen your pain.” He grimaced and shook his head. “This war has changed us, but I do not think it has changed you that much. Offer me reasonable terms of release. I give you my word, Gale shall be returned to you as soon as I can arrange it, and without so much as a scratch. I have no wish to deprive you of your daughter, but I cannot release her unless I am given reasonable terms.”
I whirled about to face him once more. “So you would have me accept your terms and free my child. Not so generous an offer when a few weeks later you would lead the armies of Pegasopolis to take this city and imprison her again. I will not release you only to have you turn your weapons upon this city. 'Twould be tantamount to treason.”
“Yes, I would do all that I could to win the war once released,” Rightly admitted. “That is my duty as an Ephor of Pegasopolis. Mayhaps you should think upon who you would prefer to see victorious: myself, or Swift. If I win the war, I will do all that I can to spare Canterlot the brutality of a sack, and ensure that the peace which follows my victory is an honorable one. So long as you persuade your clan to accept my victory once ‘tis won, I will e’en restore the Kickers to their rightful place in Pegasopolis and allow you an honorable retirement.”
“If you win.” I grunted out. “That is far from certain. And howe’er magnanimous you might be in victory, it would not change the fact that every soldier who dies against your forces would be blood upon my hooves. And I am less than certain you could deliver the generous terms you promise; I do not think the Avatar would accept any peace where I survive.”
“Perhaps not, but the terms will certainly be better than if your stubbornness leaves Swift in command.” Rightly countered. “Is that not blood upon your hooves as well? Do you not carry some measure of responsibility for all the crimes he will commit if you do not remove him when you have the chance? And he will certainly not e’en attempt to offer you or your clan any measure of mercy.”
His reasoning troubled me, for there was an element of truth to it. Though if I accepted his logic, my hooves would be drenched in blood no matter what course I chose. Though perhaps that was simply the price of being a warmaster. “Bright will lead the armies—I expect that as the Avatar she would dictate much of the policy regardless of who her general is. I will not obligate you to remain as one of her generals, but you must withdraw your clan from the war effort.”
Rightly shook his head, but a calculating look entered his eye. “I could remove a large portion of my clan’s strength from the siege. Dusk tells me there are convoys to secure, cities to garrison, and loyalist holdouts to be eliminated. My clan will leave the siege and turn its strength to those tasks instead.”
“Freeing the soldiers currently seeing to those duties to join the siege in your place,” I countered. “I am no fool, Rightly. You withdraw your pegasi, and replace them with an equal number of warriors from other clans. You offer me nothing.”
“And you ask for my clan's surrender.” He seated himself upon his cot, turning his back to me. “You threaten to leave if I do not accept your terms? Do so, then. Leave your daughter to Swift’s mercy, if you feel that extorting harsh terms of release is worth that price. And pray, inform Celestia that I wish to speak with her at her earlier possible convenience. I suspect she would be willing to make a more generous offer. I wonder if she e’en still truly wants to wear the crown, given her refusal to join her own soldiers on the battlefield.”
Though he had no doubt intended his words as a dismissal, they inspired a new solution to our seeming impasse. “If you take command on the understanding that we will immediately open negotiations to end the war, I would consider that acceptable.”
His eyes widened, and a thoughtful frown slowly travelled across his face. ‘Twas some time before he finally answered me. “We would negotiate a peaceful end to the conflict? I would find that acceptable if the negotiations themselves were fair.”
I nodded, seeing no reason to argue the point. “Naturally the negotiations must be carried out in good faith, and any breach of that by either party would be seen as a violation of the agreement.”
“And if we cannot come to an agreement?” Rightly asked.
Much as it troubled me, I knew I could only press so far unless I wanted to undo all that I had achieved. “Then ... you are only restricted by the traditional terms of parole. But if I believe you have deliberately refused to negotiate in order to—”
“I have given my word that I will negotiate in good faith, and I shall,” Rightly snapped. “You truly have lingered too long amongst the unicorns, Shadow. You have grown untrusting and suspicious of all, e’en your old friends. I am not Sunbeam Sparkle. When I give my word it is my bond, not an inconvenience I immediately begin searching for a way to escape.”
Though his remark about Sunbeam irritated me more than I would have expected, I saw no reason to poison a promising agreement at this point. “Then it seems we have an accord.” A faint smile flickered across my lips, and I slammed a hoof against the wall adjoining Dusk’s cell. “And what of thee? Do you accept as well?”
Bright’s son was not long in asking. “I would agree to this. ‘Tis a small price to pay to see that smug snake Swift receive his just reward, and the warlocks removed from our camp. And if an honorable peace can be found to end this miserable war, then all the better. I tire of burying those I love.” There was a faint pause, then he asked. “What of my sister?”
“Dawn shall remain in Canterlot for the moment.” I did not need to see Dusk’s face to know that he did not care for that condition. “I am placing a great deal of trust in the both of you, but I do not think I will surrender all of my leverage. If Gale is returned and negotiations begin, she will be released. Until then, we have no shortage of tasks for another chirurgeon.”
Dusk’s answer came in a resigned sigh. “Aye, I suppose that is to be expected.”
Rightly pitched his voice to ensure that it would easily carry to his neighbor. “Seeing to Gale's release will be among my first acts once Swift is removed.”
“Very good then.” I dared to hope that I might have actually reached the agreement I needed to restore my daughter to my side. “Are there any other matters to settle, or are we in accord?”
“I am satisfied,” Rightly answered.
“The sooner I am out of this cell, the better,” Dusk agreed. “Confinement and helplessness do not agree with my constitution, and I do miss Gale’s lovely smile. I do hope that once this war is over I can begin properly courting her. It would do much to heal the damage ‘tween our clans.”
I considered mine answer carefully. “I do not object to it, but ‘tis ultimately her choice.”
“Then there may be hope for me yet.” For the first time since I had spoken to him in his cell, Dusk seemed less the resigned and broken stallion I had seen earlier, and more his usual sardonic self. “I suspect she is growing fonder of me. It has been several days since she last sabotaged my bedding or attempted to poison my food or murder me in my sleep. After what happened with Swift, she e’en expressed some desire for me to remain safe, if only to ensure that no evils would befall her in mine absence.”
There was another pause, and the lighthearted tone left his voice. “Mayhaps this will also be the moment when I can finally see my family healed and my mother given the aid she needs. I do not think that whate’er the warlocks did to fuse my mother with Luna’s spirit is in her best interests. She is certainly no longer as she once was.”
I nodded grimly. “I am sure Commander Celestia would undo the changes the warlocks have wrought in her as part of the peace.” Though whether the Avatar would allow such a thing was another matter entirely. Something I suspect Dusk knew as well as I did, but I could hardly blame him for clinging to any hope that his family might be restored. He had lost enough without also burying his mother.
It seemed there was nothing more to be said, so I let mine actions speak for themselves. I unlocked Rightly and Dusk’s cells, stepping aside and allowing them room to exit. Rightly moved slowly, stretching his wings and revelling in his new freedom. “It seems ... strange to be free at last. A part of me can scarcely believe I am free to go after so long in a cell.”
“Speak for yourself, Commander,” Dusk shot back with a chuckle, a slight spring in his step. “I found a day in the cells to be quite enough, and am eager to return to our camp. Especially if it means an end to this mad war and a return to peace.”
“Let us hope you succeed in your mission, then.” I looked the two of them over. “I think perhaps a visit to the Canterlot baths would be in order first, then your equipment will be returned to you and you will be escorted to the rebel camp.”
Rightly lifted a wing, briefly smelling himself. “Yes. The bathhouse. Most prudent.” He turned back to me, his face grave. “Thank you for your trust, Shadow. You will not regret it.”
“I pray you are right.”
Author's Note
In case you haven't checked it out yet, go read Ponibius's The Great Snowball War for a fun story about Midnight Sparkle getting into a snowball fight. And how things escalate from there.
As always, thanks to my pre-reading and editing team for all their hard work. Also, I would like to thank all my dedicated Patreon supporters. You guys are awesome.
Click here if you want to join the list of awesome people who support my writing.
Aaron Kevin Meighen
Ascendant Shadows Interlude 3
There was something distinctly strange about walking alongside Rightly as we worked our way through our own lines. Certainly we attracted no shortage of attention, as many of Rightly’s clanmates fell into step behind us, watching with undisguised curiosity. No doubt if we had not been moving so purposefully they would have swarmed o’er us, bombarding us all with endless questions that would consume hours. Hours I had no intention of allowing Swift Blade. Best if we struck him down ere he could conjure some scheme to thwart us.
Rightly strode through the camp confidently, looking at our tents and soldiers with a most satisfied smile. “Ah, it is good to be back in a war camp once more. Certainly a far better fate than languishing in a cell. I finally feel like a warrior again.”
“Who could have imagined that?” I answered him with a dry smile. “The Acting Commander of Pegasopolis doesn't like lying around in a room the size of a large closet for months at a time while others are fighting and dying.”
The commander’s smile was equally flat. “Aye, ‘twas most unexpected I am sure.” His eyes came to rest upon the Avatar’s command tent. “But escaping my cell was but the first step. Now I must reclaim mine army.”
“Something I think we all look forward to,” I agreed. If not for my wariness that Swift might not be so easily undone, I would be scampering about the campsite like an eager child. The prospect of seeing Swift Blade finally brought down and the war ended was almost too sweet. I could scarcely e’en believe it might truly be happening.
All conversation ceased as we strode into the command tent. The Avatar was first to respond, greeting us both with a warm smile “Dusk! And ... Rightly?! How is it that thou hast returned to us? How didst thou escape from Celestia? What of Dawn?”
I lifted a hoof to forestall any further questions. “Dawn is safe, though still within the city. The enemy knows the value of a skilled chirurgeon. As for the rest of your questions, I will answer what I can, but there is much to be done.”
“Aye,” Rightly agreed with a sharp nod. “It seems we have returned not a moment too soon. Much as I would enjoy some time to rest at ease, we are at war.”
“Indeed we are.” Swift grinned down smugly from his seat at the Avatar’s right hoof. He attempted to affect the tone of a magnanimous patrician, and succeeded only in sounding like a self-important fool. “’Tis good to see you again, Rightly. Your clan will certainly be glad to see your leadership restored, and I look forward to having you serve under me within the Ephorate. Tell me, how did you succeed in escaping the Sun Tyrant’s grasp?”
“I did not escape. I was released.” Rightly’s eyes narrowed. “Released, so that I might put an end to the travesties thou hast wrought, the mockery thou hast made of our noble cause, and the crimes thou hast committed which have stained the good name of Pegasopolis.”
Swift blinked, recoiling in shock and attempting to look innocently offended. “Me? What do you speak of? What lies have the Sun Tyrant and her miserable lackeys fed you? What cruel tortures have they inflicted to confuse you so?”
Rightly scoffed. “I think you know full well what I speak of. Consorting with warlocks. Black magic and blood sacrifice. Murder most foul. Need I go on?”
“No, it is plain enough that your time in captivity troubles you still.” He stepped down from his seat, something no doubt intended to be a sympathetic smile plastered across his face. “Our allies are only warlocks by the decree of our enemy. I am sure that in Canterlot they told you all manner of fanciful lies. Do they claim that I consort with demons? Sacrifice the innocent upon dark altars? Murder and feast upon unicorn foals? Or perhaps all three at once? Surely you cannot believe such transparent lies.”
“No, I do not.” Rightly scowled at him. “But I am not blind. I can judge your wickedness for myself. If e'en a quarter of what Dusk tells me is true, thou hast profaned the office of Ephor like no other before thee.”
“Everything I have done was for the good of Pegasopolis, as always,” Swift lied, shifting to shoot a baleful glare towards me. “I am sure you also know that Dusk has long been mine enemy. Tell me, my friend: what crimes has he leveled 'gainst me?”
“Commander Rightly is not your friend,” I growled in response. “For that matter, I expect there are none here who would wish to be known as such. As for thy crimes, let us begin with the obvious: thou hast consorted with practitioners of the forbidden arts and murdered unarmed captives to fuel blood magics. Dost thou deny either of these charges?”
“I deny nothing!” Swift declared, tilting his head back proudly and raising his voice that all might hear it. “Aye, the Sun Tyrant would label me a criminal for mine acts, as she would condemn all who dare stand against her monstrous reign! If I have sometimes acted harshly, ‘twas only because such acts were necessary to win this war and ensure the freedom of all Equestria from her despotism!” He whirled upon me, dramatically levelling an accusing hoof. “As for thee, ingrate and traitor, I will remind thee that thine own mother would be dead if such drastic measures had not been taken.”
“That is true,” the Avatar allowed with a cold smile. “Howe’er, thy more recent performance has been less than exemplary. Nor does a single justified crime earn thee full pardon for any future or past acts.”
Swift’s jaw dropped. “W-what do you mean?” He recovered quickly enough, drawing himself up proudly and standing as tall as one of his limited stature could manage. “I have more than ably helped keep this army supplied with both materiel and fresh soldiers, not to mention personally winning us invaluable allies to prosecute our campaign against Canterlot. Under my leadership we have pushed the Sun Tyrant’s forces to the brink of utter defeat! What more must I do to prove myself?!”
“Oh, let us not forget your other accomplishments,” I cut in, smirking. “I have heard it said that you quite bravely and nobly fled in terror from an honor duel. Against an earth pony . Truly, no other Ephor in all the history of Pegasopolis can claim to have accomplished such a deed.”
Swift winced as my barb struck home, though he was not long in rallying. “Fortune did not favor me. It happens to all warriors eventually. Wert thou not captured during the same battle? From the tales I heard, thou didst lie down and surrender instead of fighting with the hetairoi that so desperately needed thy leadership.”
“I shared the fate of the soldiers under my command,” I snapped at him. “That is more than can be said for thee. Certainly thy performance makes it plain enough thou wouldst have ordered the hetairoi to cover your own withdrawal at the cost of their lives.”
“An experienced commander is a valuable and precious resource,” Swift answered proudly. “We are at war, and skilled battlefield leaders are all the more vital in such times. Sacrificing thyself for a point of honor was beyond foolish.”
I could not hide the smile on my lips at his misstep. “Ah, and there we have it from his own lips. The honor and decency of Pegasopolis is foolish . If that is the wisdom we abide by, then name me a fool! I shall wear the title proudly.”
“As will I!” Rightly called out.
“And I,” the Avatar murmured, to my surprise.
Swift glanced about the tent, his eyes widening as he realized the depth of his error. He swallowed and gamely tried to recover. “I am merely saying, sometimes misfortune befalls us in battle. I was defeated by an unusually talented earth pony. Rightly and Dusk were captured by the enemy. Such things happen in battle, where nothing can be predicted.” He turned to the Avatar. “Even you were defeated by Shadow when—”
The Avatar slammed her hooves on the table, shattering it in half. “Shadow did not defeat me!”
Swift’s shoulders instinctively hunched like a beaten dog at the Avatar’s fury. “Neigh, of course she did not. You were the one to walk away from your first battle against her. She was the one slain in battle, while you survived. And in your second clash you only withdrew from the field because ... because Shadow resorted to fell and dishonest trickery to gain an unfair advantage against you.”
The Avatar nodded, seemingly placated by his scrambling. “Just so. No victory at all.”
Rightly, howe’er, was more interested in another of Swift’s remarks. “Shadow slain? I think thou art plainly mistaken. She was alive and well when I left Canterlot. I spoke with her myself; indeed, ‘twas she who saw to my release.”
“You did not know?” Swift turned upon Rightly with a cold smile. “Bright slew her 'pon the battlefield to avenge the murder of her daughter, Lance. Though I suppose 'tis not surprising you were unaware. Our spies have reported that Sunbeam did everything she could to hide Shadow's death from everypony within the Sun Tyrant’s city, lest it damage morale.”
Rightly met the claim with a skeptical frown. “And yet she seems alive and well when I last saw her. And I knew Shadow well, both from our early service in the Patrol and our time together on the Ephorate. No mere impersonator could fool me.”
“Aye,” I agreed. “I cannot claim to know her as well as Rightly does, but she spoke with us at length. I noticed nothing amiss.”
The arch-warlock Hidden Facts stepped out from the shadows within the tent, clearing his throat to demand attention. “'Tis not surprising that you were fooled.” He lifted a hoof to cut off any objections we might offer. “If you will allow me a few moments to explain myself...” He waited, then continued when neither Rightly nor I interrupted him. “Both the Avatar and I have seen what you believe to be Shadow. What you interacted with is a being called a lich, or at least a close enough approximation of one. 'Tis a form of undead where the soul has been bound to a magical vessel called a phylactery—in this case, her armor. If it works as I suspect, the true essence of herself now rests within her armor. She merely animates the body she walks within as though ‘twere a puppet, giving her certain advantages that she has displayed in battle. Such as the ability to shrug off blows that would slay a mortal.”
Rightly scowled, shaking his head. “That ... that cannot be correct. I would have known if Shadow had become such an abomination.”
“Oh but it is,” the Avatar answered with a cold smile. “I saw her. I faced her in battle myself. She is no longer the mare you once knew and respected, Rightly. She is naught but a twisted mockery, an undead monster created by Sunbeam and my sister Celestia.”
“But ... that...” Rightly stumbled for a moment, then shook his head and snarled. “It changes nothing! If Celestia and Sunbeam have committed such crimes, then all the more reason to see them removed. And all the more reason to set our own house in order, so that all the world might see which of the two sides in this war is righteous.”
“I have done nothing wrong,” Swift stubbornly insisted. “Surely you have not forgotten the ancient wisdom of Steelhelm the Victorious? ‘In battle, nothing is more honorable than victory.’ I have won our victories in the battle to free Equestria, and that justifies all that I have done.”
“How fitting that thou wouldst quote one of Lyequinegus’ greatest rivals,” Rightly grumbled. “I suppose ‘tis no surprise, when thou hast plainly abandoned the path of honor. I name thee a coward and a villain, here before all these witnesses. Dost thou deny it?”
“Of course I deny it!” Swift snarled. “If not for me, Pegasopolis would already have lost this war. I and I alone had the strength to do what is necessary to lead our armies to victory. If not for me this army would have crumbled and starved within weeks of beginning the siege! Your loss harmed the war effort not at all, but without me there would be no food within our soldiers’ bellies or fresh steel for their weapons! A villain?! I am Pegasopolis’ savior!”
Rightly scoffed incredulously in the face of such ridiculous claims. “Then it seems we must resolve the dispute in battle. Face me, if thou canst.”
Swift grimaced, knowing full well that he could not win such a clash. “This is foolishness. When we battle one another it is the Sun Tyrant who profits. Disapprove of mine actions if you must, but we cannot afford to divide our ranks in the midst of a war. There is no reason for you to stand against me when we have so many common enemies.”
“I can think of no shortage of reasons,” I snapped back. “Let us begin with the fact that thou art a craven villain who would sacrifice ponies for thine own ends. That thou hast made a mockery of our cause. Let us remember all the ponies that have died because of thine evils.”
Rightly scowled and nodded sharply. “I should have removed thee from thy post when first thou didst consort with evil. I shall correct that mistake now.”
“You do not have the right!” Swift snapped. “You are not the commander of Pegasopolis. You were only e’er Acting Commander, and that post is no longer relevant now that our true leader is here.” He levelled a hoof at the Avatar. “By the Ephorate’s vote Luna is the true Commander of Pegasopolis, and Luna stands before us.”
“Indeed I do.” The Avatar smiled, slowly leaning back in her seat. “Howe’er, I have no objection to allowing Rightly to challenge thee to honorable combat. E’en a commander’s authority is limited in such private matters of honor, and I do not believe allowing the two of thee to resolve it ‘tween thyselves would critically damage the war effort.”
Swift drew back as though he had been struck across the face, turning to the warlock instead. “Will nopony stand by me?”
Hidden answered with a disinterested shrug. “This seems like an internal matter amongst the pegasi. As such, it would be improper for the magi to interfere.”
I could not restrain myself from grinning as all of Swift’s allies abandoned him. “Reap what thou hast sown, Swift.”
Rightly stepped forward, spreading his wings aggressively. “Face me in battle. Thou hast not lived a life worthy a warrior of Pegasopolis, but mayhaps thou canst at least die with honor.”
That declaration drew an enraged snarl from Swift, his lips curling up in disgust. “Ah, so that is the way of it. You wish to corner me and force me into a duel so that I might be slain whilst keeping your precious honor intact.” He stalked forward. “Let us be honest with one another, I deserve at least that much. I know I am no great warrior. I have ne’er been one, and ne’er shall be. Any battle ‘tween us is not a fair and honorable one, for I cannot equal your skill. I know it. You know it. Everypony here knows it.” He cast aside his weapons. “Forcing me into a duel is little different from ordering mine execution. You wish to murder me because you do not agree with my methods. Worse than that, you want to pretend that just because I am armed and told to defend myself, there is something honorable about killing me in a battle all present know I cannot hope to win. No, I will not give you that satisfaction. If this is to be mine execution, let us not pretend it is anything else.”
Swift cast aside his helmet and unstrapped his armor, leaving him in nothing more than his padded underclothes. “Well? Why do you hesitate? Did I strike too close to the truth? Have I stripped away too much of the decorum and civilization that we wrap ourselves up in?” He ripped his shirt open, exposing his chest. “Go ahead! If you are all so very righteous, strike down a stallion who stands no chance ‘gainst you in battle. If I am as villainous as you claim, then you should have no qualms about smiting me as though I were some common reiver. Put my head on a pike for all to see as an example to our fellow pegasi. Let all the world know how you bravely and honorably cut down an unarmed stallion who could not e’en defend himself.”
I confess that I was sorely tempted to accept his offer. His wicked heart and dark deeds were certainly such that he deserved death a thousand time o’er. And yet, I could not bring myself to strike. At the time, I felt that doing so would have left me little better than he was. Neigh, not that; ‘twas that it would have convinced Swift that we were no better than him. That for all our talk of honor and decency, we were just as foul as he. I refused to give him the satisfaction of believing that he had dragged me down to his level. Perhaps ‘twas foolishly prideful of me, but the warriors of Pegasopolis have always been a proud breed.
Rightly seemed to be of a similar mind. “Leave. Leave now, and ne'er return. I strip thee of thy clan, thy name, and whate’er tiny shreds of honor may remain to thee. I cast thee out of Pegasopolis now and fore'ermore. I confess that I am almost tempted to have thee Clipped as was done in ancient times, but such an act would only serve to dirty the blades used to perform it.”
Swift drew back his head and spat at Rightly’s hooves. “I hope you reap what you have sown, Rightly, I honestly do. You sanctimonious fool. See how easy ‘tis to keep this army together without me. See how much soldiers care for your precious honor when their bellies are empty. I will enjoy watching your cause collapse like so much sand falling through your hooves.”
By way of answer, Rightly smote him across the cheek, deliberately striking with the back of his hoof. (1) “Do not speak so to thy betters, exile.”
1: Striking with the back of the hoof was viewed as especially insulting in Pegasopolan culture, as it indicated that the attacker viewed their target as inferior .
Swift slowly picked himself up off the ground, glowering balefully at us all. “All of you will regret this. There will come a day when you wail and gnash your teeth and beg me to return and set right what you have wrought. But I will not.” He turned an especially hateful look upon me. “Enjoy thy victory for as long as you have it, Dusk Charger. I assure thee, 'twill become nothing but ashes in a month's time.”
I decided to follow Rightly’s example, and struck him across the cheek Rightly had not. As Swift lay upon the stone floor, I could not resist one final barb. “I have heard it said that thou hast a good mind for supplies. Pack well, for 'twill be thousands of miles ere thou dost find a place thy crimes are unknown and thou art welcome.”
Swift rose once more, stumbling slightly as he dragged himself out of the command tent. The Avatar nodded, and a pair of surviving hetairoi followed him to ensure that he would abide by the terms of his exile. She then turned to both of us, smiling. “Well done. Well done indeed. Swift had his uses, but I was beginning to find him tiresome e’en before thou didst bring his crimes to light. He was so small , so obsessed with such petty things when we have far grander works in store.” She strode forward, wrapping a wing around me. “I am ... relieved that you are well, Dusk. Thy loss was ... difficult.”
After a moment’s hesitation I embraced her, ill at ease with how different she was from the mother I had once known. “I am well. As Dawn will be.”
She nodded shortly, then turned to my companion. “‘Tis good to have thee returned to us, brother. Thine absence has been keenly felt.”
She offered her hoof, and he grasped it. “Aye, I felt it as keenly as thee. It is good to be back, Bright. E'en if a great deal has changed.” His eyes pointedly took in the horn adorning her head, and the other signs of the Nightmare’s influence.
The Avatar met his scrutiny with a warm smile. “So they have. But they are good changes, I assure thee.”
“I hope so,” Rightly murmured. “I have heard no shortage of dark rumors regarding thee and thy new form. And while many of them were no doubt fanciful tales concocted by Sunbeam Sparkle and her ilk, some of them came from more reliable sources.”
The Avatar bowed her head. “Ah, but of course. Much has been said of me, I am sure. Some lies, some truth, and some a mix of both.” She spread her wings, pointing to two of the empty seats around the table she had shattered. “Please, join me. I will separate truth from fiction and set thy mind at ease.”
“I would welcome that.” Rightly strode forward, taking the seat Swift had once occupied at the Avatar’s right hoof. “I have had no shortage of worries of late.”
“I can only imagine the troubles that have beset thy mind,” she answered with a sympathetic smile. “I am glad that thou didst not return in the midst of a full council meeting. The duties attendant to our positions would have interfered in our ... more personal desires.” She turned to me, once more draping a wing o’er my shoulders. “‘Twould be a terrible thing if I had to welcome my son back as the Commander of Pegasopolis greeting a captain, rather than as a mother greeting her child. Or thee, Rightly.”
I nodded mine agreement. Though her brother and mine uncle through marriage rather than blood, family was family to Mother. If anything, her sister’s death had only drawn the two closer in their shared grief. “It is surely good to be back,” I agreed, though mine enthusiasm was soon tempered by the ugly realities of our situation. “Mother, you should know that there were conditions to our release.”
The Avatar’s eyes narrowed. “Ah. I should have expected as much. Shadow would hardly have returned two of my best soldiers to me purely out of the goodness of her own heart. Well, out with it then. The sooner ‘tis stated, the sooner it can be addressed.”
Rightly grimaced. “Shadow extracted a high price, though not so high as she would have liked. I am honorbound to open negotiations with Celestia and her forces and make a sincere effort to bring the war to an end.”
The Avatar remained silent for some time, frowning in thought. I had begun to wonder if she was lost within her own mind when she finally spoke. “I see. That is simple enough. Our objectives in this war have not changed, neigh? We seek to free Pegasopolis and the earth ponies from her manipulations, and to remove her as a threat to our own freedom. Surely you agree that we cannot accept anything less than that?”
“To do otherwise would be to betray our cause,” Rightly agreed. “While honor demands that I treat with her fairly, I would ne’er have agreed to surrender our armies simply to gain mine own freedom. Not that I can imagine the army following such a command.”
“I am afraid I would have to override such an order if thou didst give it,” the Avatar agreed with a faint smile. “I do hope thou wilt not find serving under me too onerous.”
“‘Twill be something of an adjustment,” Rightly conceded, his eyes once more lingering on her horn. “But thou wert always a mare of considerable courage and honor. So long as that has not changed, I would be honored to serve under thee.”
She chuckled softly. “Oh, I have changed a great deal, but I am still the mare who stood at my sister’s side when you wed. But now I am much more as well.” She shook her head. “But now is no time for fond reminiscence. So we are agreed on the terms we offer Unicornia? Freedom for ourselves and the earth ponies, and Celestia’s abdication?”
I hesitated a moment ere I joined the conversation. “I am less than certain we should remove her from the throne. It seems that the unicorns wish to continue being ruled by her. If we fight for our freedom, we can hardly win it by denying the unicorns theirs.”
Hidden Facts cleared his throat, reminding us that the warlock was still present. “Regardless of our ideals, ‘tis foolish to think we can leave Celestia on her throne. Not when she is gifted with eternal life. Given time, she will work to worm her way back to power in Pegasopolis and the earth pony government.” He let his eyes rest upon mine. “You ask if we have the right to depose her? Aye, we do. For one, we shall hold Unicornia by right of conquest. For the second, we have every right to punish her for the crimes she has committed against Equestria. And finally, we must remove her because our freedom will ne’er be secure so long as she rules o’er e’en one of Equestria’s realms. We and our descendants would live in constant fear of her somehow taking control of the earth ponies or Ephorate again. E’en if our treaties bar her from acting directly, it is simple enough to use proxies and catspaws to advance her agenda.”
Rightly’s eyes narrowed. “I do not think I care to hear what counsel a warlock cares to offer. I have not forgotten the part thou didst play in Swift’s crimes.”
The Avatar lifted a hoof to forestall any response. “Hidden has been a loyal servant and knows more of Unicornia and its affairs than any of us. He is here at mine invitation.”
Rightly scowled, but did not openly dispute his commander’s ruling. I acted swiftly to resume the previous conversation ere it could become a point of tension ‘tween them. “But what of the wishes of Unicornia? You say we may dictate their fate by right of conquest? I do not think we should treat our fellow ponies as a conquered state.”
Hidden shook his head. “Dusk, my friend, I must also point out that your claim that Unicornia supports Celestia is ... uncertain. I am living proof that not all of us do.” He heaved out a dramatic sigh. “Alas, most unicorns have been led astray, and cannot imagine removing the queen they have known since their grandparent's grandparents. ’Tis not like in Pegasopolis or among the earth ponies, where leadership must be earned and there are rules for removing unworthy leaders. Celestia holds the throne by right of blood, and rules for life.”
The Avatar continued his line of thought. “And e’en then, how much of Unicornia truly supports her is unclear. I think thou wouldst be surprised to learn how many unicorns dream of a world without Celestia holding dominion o’er all.”
Rightly was silent for some time, then reluctantly nodded. “Aye, much as I do not care to agree with anything a warlock says, I do not think we can afford to leave Celestia in a position where she might wage war against us once more. I agreed to negotiate a true and lasting peace with the unicorns, not a twenty year truce.”
“I have no intention of seeing my grandchildren fight a second civil war,” the Avatar agreed. “It is plain to see that there can be no lasting peace so as long as Celestia holds the throne. E’en if we reduced her legal authority until she was naught but a powerless figurehead, ‘twould only delay the inevitable. Time is a potent ally, and one that favors the immortal.”
“And I think we have a far better choice for a queen of Unicornia,” Hidden declared, his eyes resting on the Avatar. “If we ... well, I do not wish to presume, but surely if Celestia is removed from power the throne would fall to her sister? I can think of none who hold a stronger claim.”
I sighed, shaking my head. “I am all but certain that Celestia and her loyalists would ne’er accept such terms.”
“And I would not accept less,” the Avatar rejoined. “Not after the death of my daughter, my son, and so many others who have sacrificed themselves for our cause. Especially when we hold all of Equestria except for one city, and Canterlot itself is not far from falling. We will offer them reasonable terms, when considered in light of the overall strategic situation and our own war aims. If they refuse reasonable terms, then the failure lies with them.”
“Though we should retain some room for flexibility within our offered terms,” Rightly argued. “As with all negotiations, we must have some points we are willing to concede in order to gain that which we truly care for. I am sure we can discuss all the finer details with the full Ephorate.”
“It seems foolish to debate the details when we know the negotiations will fail,” I groused. “We know they will not agree to forcing Celestia from the throne. Do we declare honor satisfied simply because we offered terms we knew they would ne’er accept?”
Rightly grimaced, shaking his head. “I will make every effort to negotiate in good faith with Celestia, but it may well be that we will not be able to find enough common ground for peace. Despite our best efforts to do so, we may not be able to forge an acceptable agreement. Some disputes simply cannot be resolved by words alone.”
Much as I did not care to hear it, I could not refute his answer. If a few simple minutes of conversation could have resolved this war, then the conflict would ne’er have begun in the first place. Mayhaps it had been naive of me to think that we could put an end to the war, but I was just so tired of it all. I wanted it to be over so badly that I would welcome any hope that there might put an end to it, no matter how slim it might be.
The Avatar must have guessed at the troubles within my heart, for her eyes rested upon me as she spoke. “Mine apologies, my son. I know this war weighs heavily 'pon thee, and I know the ache in thy heart, for I suffer the same wound in my chest for the loss of Lance and Thunder. But sometimes we shed some blood now so that more will not be shed later.” She sighed, shaking her head. “We are committed to this war now, and we cannot step away from the task that lies before us. If we do, then we dishonor the sacrifice made by the fallen.”
“And how many more must die for that to happen?” I demanded. “I would think that the best way to honor the dead would be to ensure that we do not add to their number needlessly. If Lance could share her thoughts with us, she would not want us to kill in her name. She would want us to ensure that no more of her kin join her in death.”
“I will do all that I can to ensure that it is so,” the Avatar answered gravely. “But we cannot abandon the cause that my daughter fought and died for when we are so close to victory. Thou didst see the Loyalist lines, and nearly broke them with thine attack. Another one such as that may very well end this war.”
“Or we bury more of our own for no measurable gain,” I answered bitterly. “I did not nearly break them. I broke them. But it accomplished nothing, for e’en as I drove forward we were defeated on other fronts. All the soldiers who died under my command died for nothing! ”
Rightly sighed softly. “Aye, such things happen in war. It is one of the cruelest realities a captain can face: to know death and defeat despite flawlessly executing his own part of a larger battle. Do not think that thou hast failed those under thy command, Dusk. There was nothing more that thou couldst have done.”
I did not—I could not accept his words. I should have withdrawn my forces rather than commit to the attack. Then Sierra would still be alive. Dawn would still be free. And so much more.
The Avatar spoke gently to me. “I do not care to continue this war, placing my children upon the battlefield. Yet what else can we do? Surrender to Celestia? Put ourselves at Sunbeam's tender mercies? Invite Shadow to return to the Ephorate, as though all her murders and betrayals were forgiven? Neigh, there must be justice and Equestria’s freedom must be secure. If the enemy is unwilling to grant me that, then there will be no peace.”
I saw little point in arguing it further. It seemed that Mother and Rightly both were bound and determined to maintain their current course. For all that they claimed they desired an end to the war, they were unwilling to offer the enemy enough concessions to gain peace. And mayhaps unlike me, they still believed that it was possible to win this war. But e’en if we captured Canterlot in the next assault and gained all that we hoped for, I would not count it a victory. Too much had been lost already.
The only thing left for me was to do all that I could to ensure that nothing more would be. “There was one other term to our release. Gale must be exchanged for Dawn.”
The Avatar scowled, her teeth clenching. “A prisoner exchange? After she murdered Lance at the last such attempt? I should send her Gale’s head!” She closed her eyes, taking several long breaths and slowly regaining her composure. “Howe’er ... she does hold my daughter. What do the rest of you have to say on the matter?”
Rightly wasted no time in answering. “Dusk and I accepted the arrangement as part of the terms of our release. More than that, though, I do not think the Bright Charger I once knew would find any pleasure in slaying Shadow’s daughter. Especially if it cost her yet another of her children.”
“It does seem like a fair exchange,” Hidden offered. “Rightly, Dusk, and Dawn for Gale. If anything, we have the better end of the arrangement.”
The Avatar grunted, her glower only deepening e’en as she considered the words. “So it does. And ... thou art correct, Rightly. I will see Shadow dead for what she did to my child, and Sunbeam as well, but their crimes do not pass on to their children. I confess that I have been ... tempted to harm Gale simply to pain her mother, but as Dusk once reminded me such dark thoughts are better left unindulged. Else I shall be the monster Sunbeam’s lies claim.”
“Then it seems we are agreed on the matter,” Rightly intoned.
“So we are.” The Avatar favored him with a sanguine smile. “I look forward to fighting by thy side again, my brother. There were times beyond numbering where I have keenly missed thy presence on the battlefield.”
“And I thee,” Rightly agreed before pointedly adding, “Should peace negotiations fail. I know that Dusk feels they are doomed, and I agree he might well be correct, but we must still make the attempt. If there is any way to stop this bloodshed and find an honorable peace, we would be remiss to leave it unpursued.” Rightly cleared his throat. “Howe’er, I think the precise terms we offer them are a matter to be discussed with the full Ephorate present. And I would prefer a day to rest, restore myself, and learn what has passed in mine absence ere we meet with them. For now, I believe there is only one more matter left to resolve. And it does not regard Shadow or any deals struck with her. Rather ... thy choice in allies.” His gaze pointedly shifted to Hidden Facts. “I do not care for association with warlocks. I have tolerated his presence thus far because it is thy wish, but I will not fight alongside him.”
Hidden scoffed contemptuously. “Warlock. A dated term made by hopelessly conservative and narrow-minded magi. A label to slap upon political enemies and those who dare to press the limits of magic rather than submit to establishment dogma.”
The Avatar’s gaze shifted between the two of them, and her tone was carefully neutral. “Hidden and his followers have been ... useful to our cause since they joined us. We could not have destroyed Polaris’ army so easily without him, nor come so close to breaking Canterlot in the last battle. ”
“Just because they are of use does not justify their crimes,” Rightly countered. “Or shall we open the gaols to put murderers and criminals in our armies too? Surely they would also be useful.”
“Actually, Swift already did that,” I murmured to him. “His battle plans often called for ‘disposable’ forces, and to his mind there were few soldiers more disposable than ones culled from a gaol.”
“All the more reason not to continue following his example,” Rightly declared.
“And what crimes have I committed?” Hidden demanded, bristling indignantly. “What laws have I violated? The ones made by Queen Celestia? The same laws that brand everypony here as rebels and traitors. Or am I a criminal by the Magus codes? A code o’erseen by Sunbeam Sparkle herself, and which she seems willing enough to twist whene’er ‘tis she who commits a crime.”
“Laws against murdering helpless prisoners and practicing black magic long predate both Celestia and Sunbeam,” Rightly countered. “How many have you slain while practicing your dark arts? How much innocent blood have you shed?”
“Only as many as much as was necessary,” Hidden answered gravely. “And only in the direst of need. ’Tis not as though using such magics are my first choice to accomplish a task. The price they carry often weighs heaviest upon the caster. Howe’er, sometimes the magics forbidden by Celestia and her shortsighted servants are the only tools capable of achieving mine ends.”
“A crime is a crime,” Rightly answered firmly. “If a thing can only be done by using dark magic, then perhaps it should be left undone.”
“So I am to be punished for slaying our foes, now?” Hidden demanded. “And make no mistake, Copper Spark was our enemy, e’en if he was bound and helpless when I took his life. A sad necessity, that. 'Twas the only means I had available to save the life of your sister and give her the power she needed to avenge the death of her children.”
“An act for which I am duly grateful,” the Avatar acknowledged with a nod. “Copper died so that I might live. Had we met on the battlefield, I am sure thou wouldst not have hesitated to cut the unicorn down if he was on the verge of defeating me.”
“There is a great difference between combat on the field of battle and murdering a prisoner to fuel a magic ritual,” I pointed out.
“Yet both examples end with Copper dead, and your mother alive and well.” Hidden turned to me, smiling. “And let us not forget the other services I have offered. Have you not discussed our collaboration with the Ephor, Dusk?”
I grimaced as Rightly’s gaze shifted to me. I had hoped my brief collaboration with the warlock could be forgotten, but I was not so fortunate. “It is so,” I reluctantly confessed. “We would not have been able to breach the enemy walls in the last battle without the aid of Hidden and his magi.” Ere the warlock could make too much of my words I added, “Howe’er, the aid we received was not of a nefarious nature. Merely standard unicorn arts.”
Rightly frowned in thought for several seconds before asking me, “In thy judgement, can we win this war without magical support?”
“It is hard to say.” I sighed, shaking my head. “Certainly our soldiers will fight far better under your leadership than they did under Swift’s. That said ... the nature of the tunnels has made it difficult to deploy our siege engines as well as we would like. And our miners have done their best to attempt to undermine or bypass the enemy defenses, but Celestia’s miners know Mount Avalon far better than ours do. Not to mention our own experts were often busy reinforcing caverns and digging out fresh supply tunnels.” Much as I disliked the conclusion, I could not deny it. “Regardless of whether we can win without them, I think the war will go better with magi supporting our forces.”
Rightly was silent for some time, his eyes closed in contemplation. “Then it seems we are at an impasse. We must have magi, but I will not allow warlocks. A compromise, then. No more dark magic shall be used by any forces under our command. All crimes committed by warlocks must be properly punished. Howe’er, any good and honorable service for the duration of the war will be ... given consideration when deciding how crimes committed at Swift Blade’s behest shall be addressed. If these warlocks show us noble hearts and perform good deeds, ‘twould go far in showing that Celestia’s laws may be excessive, and allow some measure of redemption for any past crimes. There must be justice, but it can be tempered by mercy if these warlocks prove that they have bettered themselves.”
Hidden scoffed, shaking his head. “And how would you define dark magic? You do not have mine own knowledge of the arcane arts, and I think myself far more qualified to judge on what should and should not be allowed.”
“Honor is plain enough for any with eyes to see,” Rightly answered. “When in doubt, ask if an act would be proper if ‘twere done without magic. Murder is still murder, whether done for simple reasons or to fuel a fell ritual.”
The warlock chuckled and shook his head. “Ah, such a delightfully straightforward view of the world. You must understand that magi work by different standards than the warriors of Pegasopolis. In the future, I would advise you to leave the issues of magic to the magi, just as I would not presume to dictate battle strategy to you. Each to their own spheres.”
“Battle tactics,” Rightly corrected under his breath. “Strategy concerns broad campaigns, not individual battles.” He sighed, turning to the Avatar. “Bright, might I ask for thy thoughts on the matter?”
The Avatar looked between two of them, rubbing her chin as her eyes narrowed. Mayhap 'twas just me, but I would swear her pupils contracted into slits—e'en if e'er so slightly—while she looked between them. After some time, she finally answered. “I think 'twould be best to put aside the use of the more questionable forms of magic for the duration of the war.”
Hidden’s jaw dropped open and he blinked several times, as though he could not believe what he had just head. “Avatar, if you would allow me to explain—”
The Avatar cut him off before he could e’en begin. “I have heard thy words many times in the past, Hidden. For the moment, I find thine arguments wanting. I have spoken with many of the common soldiers, and they have often mentioned how unsettled they are by the use of magics that have long been forbidden. It hurts our morale and our ability to bring the common pony to our side. We must not only consider winning this war, but maintaining the peace. And ponies will remember how we won this war. If we win through means they believe evil, they will believe we are evil rulers.” She grimaced and shook her head. “We cannot have that. So for now, I am declaring that black magic is forbidden among our forces. We can review the validity of the black arts and revise the outdated laws thou hast protested so many times once the war is finished.”
Rightly received the news with a satisfied nod, but Hidden did not take it nearly so well. He spluttered indignantly for several seconds ere he finally formed a coherent sentence. “Neigh! That is simply not acceptable!”
The Avatar’s eyes narrowed, and I was very glad I was not seated too near the warlock. There was a decidedly dangerous calmness to her tone. “Oh?”
Hidden did not know the Avatar as well as I did, and thus missed the warning signs, rising indignantly to his hooves. “I will not be told what to do because some ignorant pegasus is ... uncomfortable with the magics I wield.”
“I have made my ruling,” the Avatar announced, steel entering her voice. “Thou wilt abide by it.”
Hidden quivered indignantly, his temper getting the better of him. “No! I will not allow it! I have not sacrificed so much just to have my work undone to placate a pony who locked me away for aiding his cause! When I joined your cause, you promised that you would help me remove the tyranny of the Laws of Magic! Are you breaking your word?!”
The Avatar rose to her hooves, towering over him and glowering balefully. “I will do whate’er I think is best for our cause, and for Equestria. And thou wilt accept it. Is that clear?”
The arch-warlock hesitated for the briefest of moment ere he defiantly shouted, “Aye! ‘Tis quite clear that you would cast aside the idea of magical freedom if it suits you. Have you forgotten that if not for me, you would not e’en exist?! ”
The Avatar remained calm in the face of his fury. “Dost thou think that thy role in mine apotheosis gives thee power o’er me? The right to issue demands? If so, then thou art gravely mistaken. Do not force me to correct thee as I would an insolent child.”
“Correct me?!” His horn lit as he cast aside all reason. “I will not be cast aside and my desires trampled upon simply because you feel you can take my loyalty for granted! Do you think that I serve you without question, that I will continue to do so when you betray all that I stand for?”
The Avatar’s eyes narrowed. “I think that if you do not cease spellcasting immediately, you will not care for what follows.”
Hidden drew himself up defiantly. “Thou art no master to me! I am a free magus; Archmagus Hidden Facts, Master of—”
Whate’er proud declaration he was about to offer came to an abrupt end as the Avatar lashed out with a beam of moonlight, striking him in the chest. The Archmagus did not e’en register the impact, his outraged expression disappearing with the rest of him as his body … vanished. With a noise not unlike a branch against leather, the unicorn’s body vanished in a pink froth which exploded outwards like an o’ercooked potato. Save for the Avatar, the entire tent was bathed in gore—my jaw slackened just as I registered the event, and I gagged when I felt the giblets ‘pon my tongue. Try as I might, I could not dull my sense of taste as I spat out the last mortal vestiges of Hidden Facts.
For a moment I marvelled at his madness in daring to challenge the Avatar. Mayhaps ‘twas as she said, that he believed that he held power o’er her as her maker. Or mayhaps ‘twas simply the last defiance of a man who felt he was being cast aside now that the Avatar no longer needed him. Given his own betrayal of Swift, ‘twas no surprise that he feared receiving the same treatment.
The Avatar strode to where Hidden had stood only moments ago, plucking out the only reasonably intact part of his body: his skull. “Know thy place, warlock. For I am the Commander of Pegasopolis, Queen of Unicornia, and the Sovereign of all of Equestria. To defy me is to declare thyself a traitor, and so invite the consequences of thy treason.”
“M-Mother...” I gasped out in shock. I had seen her in battle before, but there was quite a difference ‘tween seeing her skewer a foe with a lance and the violence she had wrought using her new magical abilities. Not to mention the sheer suddenness of it. One moment Hidden Facts had been alive and well, the next...
The Avatar turned to me, her gaze cold and distant in a way I had ne’er seen on my mother’s face. “Mine apologies. Howe’er, I am sure that the both of thee saw that Hidden was about to cast a spell. I know not what he intended, but I doubt it boded well for any of us. ‘Tis no secret that the best way to defeat a magus is to slay them ere they can begin casting spells. I would not risk having either of thee harmed in an extended battle.”
She drew herself up to her full height. “You were right to be wary of him, for his words and actions brought his treasonous nature to light. I would have preferred to deal with him in a more official manner, but capturing him alive and holding him would have been a difficult task. He only allowed his first arrest because of his confidence he could manipulate Swift. Absent that ... safer to slay him than risk attempting his capture.” She sighed, shaking her head. “And now it seems we must pick a new leader for the magi, and hope that he will prove more reasonable than his predecessor.”
“I shall leave that choice to others,” Rightly answered, scrubbing at his face. “I know little of the unicorns bound to our service, and expect I could not properly come to know all of them ere the needs of the war required a new leader. So long as they are willing to conduct themselves with honor, I see no reason to object to thy choice, Bright.” He grimaced, looking down at the remnants of Hidden Facts. “In any case, I am glad to be rid of one warlock.”
“I am of the same opinion.” I flicked my wings, trying to remove as much viscera from them as I could. A part me could not help but reflect that, in his own way, Hidden had actually been quite an honorable pony. Much as I disliked dark magic, the nature of his demise made it plain that Hidden had truly believed in his ideals. When faced with the choice of compromising his integrity or suicidal defiance, he had embraced his own destruction. Ironic that a warlock would meet his end for being an idealist.
“Such helpful advice the both of thee offer,” the Avatar murmured, a thoughtful frown on her lips. “So be it then. I believe that for the moment the post shall go to Moonwatch. He has pleased me with his loyalty and will surely accept whate’er terms I ask of him. Not an especially brilliant or accomplished magus, but he has his talents and lacks Hidden’s ... numerous flaws.”
I blinked in surprise at her choice. “But ... but he is slain. I was there when dozens of crossbow bolts pierced his body, and then the fire gem...”
The Avatar’s lips curled in an amused grin. “Neigh, he yet lives.” She chuckled at the confusion writ o’er my face. “Thou canst ask him how he still walks this world, but I fear the magi do like to keep their secrets.”
“So they do,” Rightly agreed with a shrug. “I would like to meet him ere I offer mine approval, but so long as he accepts the terms and shows no objectionable traits I will support thy choice for the post, Bright.”
“I do not doubt that he will do so,” the Avatar assured him. “Moonwatch knows how to follow orders. He will abide by thy terms.”
I had no reason to doubt that Moonwatch would do exactly as she claimed. From what I had seen of him, he was an unimaginative, simple-minded sycophant. He would obey the Avatar’s command with equal fervor whether she told him to act with honor or dishonor. Hardly an ideal leader to my mind, but such blind obedience would no doubt seem preferable compared to Hidden’s stubborn idealism. Moonwatch certainly would not e’en dream of scheming against or defying the Avatar as Hidden had.
“It seems the magi are attended to for the moment, then.” The Avatar’s horn lit, and Hidden’s remains slid off the tent’s walls, coalescing in a single gelatinous mass in the center of the tent. “Was there anything else that troubled thy mind, Rightly, Dusk?”
For a brief moment I envied her newfound powers as I flicked a piece of the former archmagus from my mane. “Mayhaps a bath?”
The Avatar looked the tent o’er with a wry grin. “Aye, a fine suggestion. I am afraid Hidden has made a mess of my council and my council tent. I suppose I will have to offer an apology on his behalf to the aides I set to the task of cleansing it all. For the moment, let us attend to ourselves.” She paused, levitating the warlock’s skull. “Though I believe I shall keep this. It shall serve as ample warning of the consequences of treason, and it is only proper that a warrior claim trophies from their defeated foes.”
Rightly responded with a single raised eyebrow. “Surely that is a rather morbid trophy? Couldst thou not find something that does not require desecrating his corpse?”
“As if there were a corpse left to desecrate,” I murmured under my breath.
The Avatar must have caught my remark, for she let out a soft chuckle. “I did take quite a few trophies from Corrodius the Blightbringer. A dragon’s bones and scales make a fine addition to any set of armor. That said, a pony’s bones are far less useful.” She turned Hidden’s skull about in her hooves, studying it. “Still, I might find a use for this. Mayhaps bind him to prevent some plan to defy his own death. He was skilled in necromancy, and his apprentice Moonwatch has already shown remarkable resilience.” She sighed, and shaking her head. “And if such measures prove needless, the skull can be given a proper burial at some point. Hidden may have been a fool and a warlock, but he did provide our cause a few useful services between his crimes.”
Rightly grimaced, but slowly nodded. “If his skull is required to counteract some dark magic he might have wrought, then so be it. I know little of such things, and do not care to learn more. I only ask that it be treated as decently as possible. Whate’er his crimes, we should not blacken our own names by mistreating his mortal remains.” He sighed, looking down at his blood-spattered body. “For now, I think I shall follow Dusk’s most excellent suggestion. ’Twill be good to enjoy a proper bath once more. ‘Twas only one of many luxuries my jail cell did not allow me, and one I missed keenly e’en before...” He waved a hoof o’er the blood staining his armor and body, “This.”
The Avatar nodded understandingly. “Aye, I am sure thou art eager to wash away any reminders of thy captivity. Do not worry, thou wilt be treated with all the dignity and respect thou dost deserve now that thou art amongst thy fellow warriors again.”
Rightly answered her with a relaxed smile. “I am glad to hear it, Bright. It has been too long since I saw any pegasus other than Shadow herself. A part of me can still scarcely believe all this has happened. A day ago I was a prisoner with no hope of freedom save an end to the war, and e’en then I feared Sunbeam would kill me out of spite first. Now I am restored to all my honors, and once more leading an army in a righteous cause. A rather sudden and disconcerting change, but certainly a welcome one.”
“We live in times of great change,” the Avatar agreed. “This war will change the very nature of Equestria itself. And once ‘tis done, all ponykind will know that ‘twas Rightly Doo who led the war for the freedom of ponykind.”
“Thou dost flatter me,” Rightly answered with a modest grin.
“If thou dost find the truth so flattering, then it speaks well of thy humility.” She chuckled, then gently shooed him out with a wing. “Now, I would not keep thee from the baths any longer, and I would have words in private with my son.”
“Of course, Bright.” Rightly’s eyes flicked once more to her horn, but this time I did not see any unease in them. “I am glad to see that while thou art ... changed, thou art still the mare I know so well. There were times when I feared there might be some truth to the lies my gaolers told me in Celestia’s dungeons.”
The Avatar answered him with a wry smile. “Well, when last I asked my chefs were preparing several unicorn foals in a lovely orange sauce for dinner tonight. Though in light of thy return, it seems I should alter the menu to something we would both enjoy. I trust that the same stew our soldiers subsist on will suffice?”
“Aye, it will.” Rightly chuckled softly. “Simple fare, but likely better than what they enjoy in Canterlot. I have not had anything fresh in weeks, and I do not think that was simply because they gave their prisoners the worst food available.”
“I hope so,” the Avatar declared. “If their bellies are beginning to empty, they are much more likely to accept our peace offer.” She waved dismissively. “We can formalize our terms once thy bath is finished, and the rest of the Ephorate is present. Now, I believe I have already urged thee to the bathhouse once. I hope thou wilt not force me to repeat myself.”
“Is my smell that offensive?” Rightly lifted a wing and took a loud sniff, grimacing. “Ah. So it is. Good day, then.” He turned about, departing.
With his departure, I was alone with the Avatar. I confess, I was not entirely certain what to do. For all that she appeared as my mother and bore many of her mannerisms and beliefs, I could not shake the feeling that she was simply ... too different. When I looked upon her, I did not see the mother who had borne and raised me. Though Rightly seemed to have accepted her changes readily enough, in my heart I had not. When I looked upon her, my heart saw the Avatar of Luna, not my mother.
Howe’er, it seemed that she did not draw such distinctions. I felt her magic wash o’er me, a cold but not unpleasant tingle as it swept away the stains left by the warlock’s blood. She smiled proudly as she cleansed me. “Thou hast grown a great deal during this war, my son. Ere the battle began, thou wert young and mayhaps a touch more foolish than thou wouldst care to admit. Yet it seems that the fires of battle have tempered thee, and now thou art a strong and honorable son that I am incredibly proud of. As I am sure Lance and Thunder would be.”
Lance, mayhaps. I suspect Thunder would have envied mine accomplishments, as younger brothers are wont to do. Pity I would ne’er have the chance to know that for certain. “I ... thank you for your kind words, Mother.” Though my heart still questioned her identity, I would not call her otherwise. If she were my mother ‘twould wound her, and if she were something else ‘twould still be taken as a mark of disrespect.
Her magic continued to flow o’er me, removing mine armor as she carefully inspected me. “I hope thou wert not mistreated. If any harm has been visited upon thee or Dawn...”
“Neigh, for prisoners, we were treated quite well.” I could not meet her eyes as I confessed. “Better than Gale would have been treated, if Swift had his way.”
“Aye, I was a fool to e’er consider following his suggestion.” She sighed, shaking her head. “Rightly had the right of it. Much as I burn to avenge my children’s deaths, harming Gale purely to spite Shadow would only have blackened my name and damaged our cause. I am glad to be rid of Swift and Hidden both.” She nodded, seemingly as much to herself as to me. “Aye, with Rightly and thee by my side, we can bring this war to an end. Rightly is ten times the warrior Swift e’er was. He will surely find victory where Swift failed.”
“Easily,” I agreed. “Though I do hope ‘twill not come to that. Regardless, I will feel much more at ease once we regain Dawn.”
“As will I,” the Avatar agreed. “I do not care to see my children in peril, e’en though I know thy skills are vital to winning the war. And I could not in good conscience demand that any other parent send their child to war if I refused to do the same.” She took a slow, deep breath. “We will send Gale to the Loyalists on the morrow, once we have decided on the terms we will offer. We might as well save a messenger and have her deliver our offer. If all goes well, we should have Dawn back ere the sun sets.”
A wistful tone entered my voice as I confessed, “Glad as I will be to have Dawn returned, I do think I shall miss Gale once she is gone. I suspect she was almost beginning to tolerate my continued existence. She e’en expressed a slight preference for my continuing to live rather than seeing me suffer a horrible and exquisitely painful death.”
“The two of thee are as good as wed, then,” the Avatar remarked dryly. “But aye, I will be glad to have Dawn returned to us as well. And not just because she is my child, but...” She trailed off uncertainly, her eyes flicking downward. “There are ... other matters where her advice would be of considerable value.” Her horn lit once more, and I felt a thick blanket of magic settle o’er the tent. After several seconds she nodded, seeming satisfied with her spell. “I presume I can trust thy discretion in this matter?”
“Of course,” I answered without a moment’s hesitation.
“Very well.” She said nothing as she removed her armor, and then the padding beneath it. To my horror, open gashes criss-crossed her body where Shadow’s blades had struck her earlier. Worse still, the area around them was yet charred from the magic of Shadow’s wing blades, and I could … see into Mother, see the soft, steady movements of her bones and muscles and viscera as she drew breath. Queerer still, though, was that her injuries did not bleed—blood flowed and ebbed without spilling from her body, somehow tracing a path from one end of a severed or burnt vein to another without interruption. “The wounds I suffered in my battle with Shadow are not healing. Neigh, more than that, they will ne’er heal. Despite the damage, there is a curious strength within me. In truth, I feel e’en mightier now than I did before. I suspect ’tis a result of Luna’s power flowing through me. Howe’er ... there is no way to be gentle with this, and thou art old enough to bear such terrible burdens.” She took a deep breath, then slowly released it. “Dusk, I am dying.”
“Dying?” I could scarcely credit mine own ears. “Why? Can you be saved?”
She answered me with a sad shake of her head. “I fear 'tis a result of ... my condition. Though it pains me to admit it, it seems that e’en I cannot contain the full might of an alicorn. I believe Hidden hoped that my strength of body and will would suffice, but this is not a matter of simple might. I lack certain special qualities, qualities that only a precious rare few possess.” She chuckled, though ’twas a sound devoid of any humor. “’Tis ... ironic, mayhaps. Luna’s power sustained me when I might have died, and further strengthens me when mine unhealing wounds would cripple a mortal pony. Yet drawing upon that very strength is what shall ultimately destroy me. I fear my battle with Shadow only accelerated the process.”
I could not accept it. Not my mother too. Lance ... Thunder ... Sierra ... too much had already been lost. I refused to accept that I had no choice but to stand idly and watch as yet another member of my family perished. “But ... surely there must be some way to undo this?” I struck upon a desperate hope. “Celestia. Shadow said she might be able to undo the changes wrought upon you. Surely she could reverse the damage your connection to Luna has caused. We could make it one of the terms in our peace offer—”
“Neigh!” Mother shouted. “We cannot let the enemy know of this! How dost thou think they would respond if they learned of my condition? ‘Twould only serve to embolden them, and ‘twould spread uncertainty and despair in our own forces. Mayhaps I could ask for aid once Celestia has surrendered and Canterlot is ours, but until then they must all believe that I am whole and healthy.” She grimaced and shook her head. “E’en then, I am reluctant to trust myself to Celestia’s aid. She would be able to destroy me with a thought if I made myself so vulnerable to her.” She paused for a moment, then declared. “Nor am I prepared to surrender my fate to another when there may yet be a way to save myself.”
“What way?” I asked, wondering what dire acts must be performed to stabilize Hidden’s dark magic. A part of me suspected ‘twould require acts as foul as those Hidden committed to alter my mother to her current form. Yet ... if the alternative was to lose her as I had lost so many others... “What must we do?”
Mother locked her eyes upon mine. “There is a filly in Canterlot with a special connection with Luna. While I am ill-suited to bear Luna's power, this child was created for the specific purpose of serving as Luna’s agent on Equestria. I can think of no better host for Luna’s strength, and if she could wield Luna’s full might without the negative consequences I suffer, she might well be able to restore me to my former self.”
I could already feel the beginnings of a desperate plan forming in my mind. “Tell me more about this child...”
Author's Note
As always, thanks to my pre-reading and editing team for all their hard work. Also, I would like to thank all my dedicated Patreon supporters. You guys are awesome.
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Aaron Kevin Meighen
Seeing to the release of Dusk and Rightly had proven to be a simple matter of meeting with Sunbeam, Commander Celestia, Grandmaster Quest, and Captain Greenwall. Celestia herself had been eager to support my plans to end the war, and while the others had varying degrees of uncertainty, in the end I won their support. Howe’er, the next meeting of the grand war council promised to be most ... interesting.
As I trotted into the council chambers, ‘twas hard not to notice the changes the war had wrought. As before, ponies sat around the circular tables in distinct groups, representing the various factions within the council itself. Howe’er, the mages now sat adjacent to mine own clan, with Sunbeam herself situated not in the midst of her own followers but on the border of my clan’s section. Given the empty seat adjacent to her, ‘twas plain she intended for me to join her so that we might consult in secret and sway the council to whate’er course we thought best. Truly, war drives us all in strange directions.
The Order occupied fewer seats than they had in the past, likely on account of the losses in the western tunnels. The Grandmaster’s eyes naturally lingered on his daughter, who seemed quite out of sorts sitting amongst my clanmates. Though that was the proper place for her as my squire, I knew full well that her heart belonged to the Order of Sol Invictus. Though if training a young warrior would help strengthen the bonds of alliance within our own ranks, then that was a small price to pay.
Canterlot’s nobility had also turned out in larger numbers than they had for previous councils. More than enough to fill the gaps caused by the absences amongst the Order. They had seemed dormant in the war councils e’er since Polaris’ capture, for ‘twas no secret that Sunbeam cared little for them. Given her earlier warnings about rising discontent amongst them, I suspected that their presence boded ill.
I settled into my seat next to the Archmagus, hardly e’en surprised as I felt a privacy spell ripple o’er the both of us. “What news, Sunbeam? How has news of Rightly’s release been received?”
The frown that settled onto her lips answered my question e’en before she spoke. “Mixed, at best. You gave the Rebels one of their best leaders back for nothing measureable in return, and Bright’s son to boot.” She favored me with a smile devoid of warmth. “Oh, there was talk of honor and obligation, but there are many who do not find value in such things. There was certainly a time when I would have preferred a single coin in my hoof to the honor-bound promise to deliver ten coins in the future.”
I felt one of mine eyebrows rise at her choice of words. “There was a time when you felt so? What has changed thy view?”
Sunbeam chuckled softly, shaking her head so that her mane cascaded o’er her shoulders. “I still firmly believe that all this talk of honor is madness. If I were Rightly or Dusk, I would have taken your offer and returned to the rebel camp while blessing my fortune at having such foolish adversaries.” She smiled wolfishly, a mischievous gleam entering her eyes. “But then, if I were thy prisoner, I rather doubt that thou wouldst offer me such generous terms dependant only upon my word. By the same token, Rightly and Dusk are not me; if honor is indeed a form of madness, then ‘tis one that the two of them are most sorely afflicted with, and one we would be fools not to take advantage of. If there are any rebels we can trust to hold to their word e’en when ‘twould be in their interests to break it...”
She shrugged and settled back into her chair. “I suppose we shall see soon enough. In truth, it costs us little to make the attempt. Rightly has accomplished little for us as a prisoner, and e’en if he does not honor his word regarding Gale and peace, he will still try to oust Swift Blade. Causing such dissent within the enemy ranks is reason enough to release him.” A faint smirk flickered across her lips. “Though I would have pressed him for harder terms than thou didst. Though a part of such negotiations would have been to walk away and let him stew for days at a time. Such tactics can prove most effective against prisoners.” She sighed and shook her head. “Alas, we might not be able to afford such delays. At the moment time is as precious a resource as Rightly himself.”
“I wished to reach an agreement as quickly as possible,” I conceded. “And Rightly could see as much when I spoke with him. Though I threatened him with abandoning the talks, I do not know if I truly could have done so.” I sighed, slumping into my seat. “Lyequinegus wrote that we should believe in our hearts that any comrade captured by the enemy is already dead, so that we would not be moved by any threats made ‘gainst them. Though I normally aspire to follow Lyequinegus’ axioms, I confess that one has eluded me.”
“I suspect thou art far from the only one,” Sunbeam answered, a distant look in her eyes. “One’s children always hold a special place in one’s heart. Consider Bright’s own fall from grace: I cannot imagine she would have sold herself to the Nightmare were she not half-mad from grief at the deaths of Lance and Thunder. No doubt the Nightmare seduced her by promising her a chance to avenge herself upon us.”
“Quite likely.” I grimaced, mine eyes falling to the table as I thought upon my daughter’s peril. If ‘twere Gale who had been slain in battle, would I have done any differently than Bright? Much as I would like to believe that I would ne’er cast aside mine honor, I could not say with any certainty that ‘twould be so. If the Avatar struck down my child, would I not feel the need to avenge her, e’en if it required acts that would previously have been unthinkable? Would I not feel the same burning need to destroy all responsible for Gale’s death? It is an easy thing to declare the importance of morals and honor from a distance. Far harder to hold to them in the heat of the moment, with the blood of your own children on your hooves.
Sunbeam cleared her throat, pulling me out of my ruminations. “Regardless, we have had some trouble o’er the matter of Rightly’s release. Many of the nobles are less than pleased with the news, especially when none of them save Grandmaster Quest were consulted on the matter. Alas, ‘twould seem that mine efforts to mollify them were for naught. Rightly’s release made it quite plain that I was only making symbolic gestures while retaining any real power for myself. And thyself, of course.”
I grimaced at the less than welcome news. We had troubles enough without adding internal dissent to them. “How restive are they?”
“I suspect we will know the answer to that question quite well by the end of this council.” She sighed and shook her head. “I will remind thee, thou art not the only one whose family has been captured by the enemy—family at risk of being sacrificed in foul rituals, or being used as hostages to force our surrender.”
“We took the best course of action we saw available,” I reassured her. “Now we must trust Rightly and Dusk’s honor to see this through. I imagine how the nobles take the news will depend a great deal on whether we have peace or war. For the moment, the matter is out of our hooves; Rightly will either offer reasonable terms to end the war, or he will not.”
She scoffed. “I suppose that is so, aye. In any case, it is not as though we could walk up to the Rebel camp and beseech them to return the two of them. We will just have to see how things proceed and adjust our plans. For the moment, I will have to come up with some new way to keep the nobles from kicking up too much of a fuss o’er the fact that I will systematically undermine their base of power.” She scowled across the room, though presumably her privacy spell hid it from her target. “It may prove difficult to manage without offering them something of actual worth. Maintaining friendship with thee is proving to be far more vexing than I expected.”
I gave her complaints all the consideration they deserved: none. “As I recall, thou hadst made an enemy of Canterlot’s nobles long before I entered the city.”
“Yes, yes,” she groused, impatiently waving a hoof. “Forgive me for my foul humours, but I grow tired of waiting for the meeting to begin. In truth, I would prefer to do something more industrious, such as review my fellow magi, or watch o’er the repairs to the walls, or e’en take a simple nap.”
“I think I would also prefer any of those to the bleating of pampered fools,” I confessed. “But alas, it seems we must hear them in council. Let us see to it, then. The sooner we begin, the sooner we can be done with this.”
I nodded to Sunbeam and, on a whim, touched my hoof to the energies holding together her privacy spell, instantly absorbing them. Sunbeam glared at me for ending her spell, but it seemed a superficial matter given the lack of further complaint. I had certainly piqued her pride far worse in the past. The end of her privacy spell drew much attention to us, and I did not waste the opportunity. “If all are present and prepared, shall we begin the council?”
The Commander spoke from her throne in the center of the room. “Yes, we are sure that everypony wishes to address the issues of the day. Given that, I believe we can dispense with the usual formalities and move straight to business: Lady Protector Shadow, tell us how the war progresses.”
I wasted no time in my reply. “We have held the walls against an enemy assault, driving back the Avatar, the Archwarlock, and the traitor Ephor Swift Blade. Though the battle was costly, we have won the day. Our engineers are already hard at work restoring our fortifications and expect to be done before the day is out. Though we have taken losses they made the rebels pay heavily, and the enemy has lost many of their best soldiers. Our initial reports indicate that the elite hetairoi was all but destroyed as a coherent unit.”
“They are not the only ones to have suffered,” one of the nobles called out. “Too many of our best knights died or were crippled in the tunnels.”
“All who fight in Her Majesty’s name have made sacrifices,” Sunbeam immediately countered. “That is the nature of war. Nobles have died. Mages have died. Pegasi and earth ponies have died. And unlike the nobles, our allies have no obligation to defend Canterlot ‘gainst the rebels. We fight to defend our homes because the enemy leaves us no other choice. Shadow and her clan defend us with their blood e’en though they could easily abandon the war without losing anything beyond a little pride, and the same for Greenwall and his earth ponies.”
Greenwall grunted and nodded. “Plenty of death for everyone.”
“Far too many families have buried a loved one,” I agreed. “Many of mine own clanmates are in mourning, and e’en I have lost close kin to this war. We honor the sacrifices made by the Order and Canterlot’s knights, for without them the war might well have been lost in the tunnels.”
“And how will the Order be rewarded for its sacrifice?” the same noble demanded.
Grandmaster Quest rose from his seat, smiting the o’erdressed fool with a furious glare. “We do not fight to be rewarded, Pure Line. I did not rush to Her Majesty’s side asking how she would compensate me for my son’s life. It is our duty to support the Queen and protect Canterlot, and that is precisely what we shall do. I will note that you have gone to great pains to keep your own son as far from the battlefield as possible.”
Commander Celestia interceded ere the war of words could escalate further. “The knights of the Order of Sol Invictus fought because they believed in a noble cause—because they wished to defend their city and the ones they loved.” There was a moment’s hesitation, and she softly added, “And for their queen. Though I am honored that they gave their lives for me, I would have much preferred that they all lived for me instead.”
“As would we all,” I agreed. “Many have fallen, and more still shall fall ere this war is ended. For now, while we have bled and suffered we held the walls and saw off the enemy. If they come again, they shall meet the same fate.”
“And the enemy’s losses will be felt as keenly as ours,” Sunbeam continued. “How many times can they throw themselves against our walls to no effect ere their spirits are crushed? When they bury their dead, they will have to think upon how those deaths gained them nothing . The only result was superficial damage to our walls, which our engineers have already begun repairing. No army can suffer such reversals without loss of morale. And surely their spirits will be crushed all the more by the results of our duels with the enemy leaders.” She smirked, pointedly looking at myself and Greenwall to remind everypony just who the duelists had been. “A pointless death is all the keener when done at the commands of a coward who fled his duel after the first blow.”
“Let us be fair,” Greenwall rumbled, a faint grin flicking across his lips. “He tried to hit me twice before he fled with his tail tucked ‘tween his legs. Though admittedly I was only able to strike him once. Mayhaps we should split the difference and say he fled after one and a half blows?”
“So noted,” I murmured with a smile of mine own. “It would not do to attribute more cowardice to Swift Blade than he deserves.”
Pure Line intruded upon us once more. “If their current leaders are so woefully inadequate, why is it that you have released so many of their officials? Surely we would be better served by leaving Swift in command of the enemy? For that matter, why have we not used the fact that we held Rightly to force his clan from the war?”
Sunbeam scoffed at the suggestion. “Because that is not how the clans think. Surely you are not so ignorant of our enemies that you do not know the very basic precepts of Lyequinegus? Ephors and commanders are not like queens; capturing one does not automatically win a war, and with a queen’s ransom to boot. Neigh, at the end of the day, they are all expendable to their nation. Rightly was only good as a bargaining chip, and that is precisely how we have used him.”
A part of me could not help but wonder how familiar Sunbeam herself had been with Lyequine precepts on prisoners prior to our discussion of the matter. Regardless, I moved to reaffirm her argument. “Rightly would not order his clan to surrender simply to save his own life, nor would his clan accept such orders from a captured leader. So far as his clan was concerned, he was as good as dead once we took him, and would remain so unless they could somehow free him.”
“Using him to bludgeon his clan into submission never would have succeeded,” Sunbeam continued. “Likewise, the failure of our first attempt to trade him for our own captives only occurred due to due to treachery on the enemy’s part. Fortunately, Shadow and I were able to discover and exploit circumstances which allowed us to gain the maximum possible advantage from his freedom. If releasing him causes chaos within the enemy camp, that can only be to our advantage.”
“We have focused purely on military matters for too long,” I agreed. “Wars are not won merely by troop deployments or cunning tactics. We must strike at the heart of the enemy and make them doubt their own cause. A faithless soldier is far weaker than one whose heart is full of conviction. Let us show them the honor of our forces and the dishonor of their leaders; once their hearts break, the armies will swiftly follow.”
“And the sooner they are no longer willing to fight, the sooner this war can finally end,” Commander Celestia declared from her throne. “I fully support Shadow in her efforts to restore decency and put an end to this war. Rightly is a good and honorable pony, one who will not readily stand for the evils that Pegasopolis has caused under the leadership of Swift Blade and the Avatar—and one who would be willing to offer us peace with honor, and help create a new, moral Equestria.”
Pure scoffed, glancing incredulously at the Commander. “Honor? Morals? Let us not place him upon a pedestal. Has everypony forgotten that Rightly Doo’s honor and morals were what drove him to rebel against the crown in the first place? He broke his oaths of loyalty to Her Majesty once already. Why should we believe he will honor any promises he made now? I am sure he would offer any empty words we asked of him, so long as he gained his freedom in the end. The rebels know nothing of decency, and this war will only end when we have cut them all down.”
The Commander’s eyes narrowed, and she drew herself up to her full height. When she spoke, there was an iron authority to her voice that I had heard far too seldom since the war began. “They are ponies who consider their cause worthy, mistaken though they may be. If there is a way to end this war honorably without more ponies such as your own kin giving their lives, then I intend to pursue it.”
I added mine own words to the Commander’s. “If I could end this war by holding Rightly in our dungeons, I would. If I could end it by freeing him, I would. At the moment, we believe that the latter course may indeed be successful.”
Sunbeam was quick to follow up on mine argument. “E’en if the effort fails and Rightly continues the war, the troubles it is likely to cause among the enemy ranks will be worthwhile. Rightly did us no good in our dungeons, but releasing him will surely cause divisions amongst the enemy ranks. Every time the rebels fight amongst themselves, we are the ones who emerge victorious.”
“And the poorer the rebel cause looks, the more their soldiers will be tempted to desert or e’en defect,” I continued, seeing the perfect chance to introduce one of the policies we had discussed earlier. “Pursuant to such a goal, we have decided to begin assembling a new Ephorate, drawn from the current loyal pegasi.” Or to be more accurate, those who were loyal and those we hoped to turn. If I could somehow persuade Dawn to take a seat in the new Ephorate, it would be quite a coup.
“We believe that doing so would help enhance the legitimacy of our government in the eyes of the pegasi,” Sunbeam agreed. “Already we have ponies deserting their cause and joining with us. With a proper ephorate on our side we can encourage this trend—one that will only be aided by Pegasopolis’ failure to capture our walls, the defeat of their leaders, and the internal chaos within their camp.”
“And who would the members of this new ephorate be?” Pure demanded truculently. “Obviously Shadow will lead it, correct? And the two of you will no doubt hoof-pick the new ephors?” His eyes narrowed as he glowered at Sunbeam. “Just as you forced through your choices for the new archmagi, or reassigned many offices and honors without any respect for the usual lines of precedence and honor.”
Sunbeam scoffed, dismissing his claims with a cavalier wave of her hoof. “Those were all necessary measures in a time of crisis. There was not time for a proper conclave to pick four new archmagi, not e’en discounting the fact the magi order was in utter disarray. By the same token, some of the traditional titles had to go to those capable of performing their duties in a time of war. It’s all well and good to say that head of House Goldarbor has traditionally been one of the Queen’s Lords Marshall, but the current head of the household is four years old . We need ponies capable of exercising their offices if we are to save Equestria from its enemies, and in any case, all my choices were approved by Her Majesty.”
The Commander shot Pure a pointed look. “Shadow is the most qualified to help select any new ephors. She would know her fellow pegasi best, and by tradition new members of the Ephorate have always been nominated by those currently sitting upon the council. As Shadow is currently the only loyal member of the Ephorate, it falls to her to assemble a new one.”
“So that is to be the way of it, then?” Pure demanded, looking back to his fellow nobles for support. “Once more, the necessities of war are used to allow Sunbeam and Shadow to consolidate their power? Titles reassigned to her favorites, the archmagi stacked with those who support her views, and now Shadow will hoof-pick puppets for her new Ephorate as well? Where will it end? Shall we start building two new thrones for them as well?”
Sunbeam rolled her eyes, her tone taking on a mixture of patience and condescension that made it seem as though she were speaking to a particularly slow-witted child. “The temporary wartime measures we have implemented are just that: temporary and wartime. Once the war is over, we can go back to the normal order of things.”
“I have your word on that?” the stubborn noble asked. “Here, and now, witnessed by all present in the council? I have your solemn promise that all of your supposedly temporary wartime measures will be put aside when the rebels fall?”
Sunbeam smiled and nodded, the very picture of magnanimity. “Once the crisis is over, the temporary measures will be put aside.”
I was instantly suspicious. It was not like Sunbeam to give up any measure of power without a fight. Judging by Pure’s troubled frown, he had the same opinion. “We will regain all our privileges? Our titles? Our retinues? Our incomes? All will be as it was before the war?”
“That is what I promised, yes,” Sunbeam reassured him. “The emergency measures exist only to serve the war effort. Once there is no more war, there will be no more need for such measures.”
Pure scowled at her, and I was all but certain he was trying to puzzle out what hidden treachery Sunbeam had planned for him. I confess, I was rather curious about that myself. “And you will not try to claim that the crisis is still ongoing once the war is over? Or ask Her Majesty to overrule you, thus freeing you from your promises?”
“As I said, I will keep my word,” Sunbeam answered coolly. “I know I have had my share of differences with the nobility in the past, but now is not the time for internal squabbles. We must stand united against the rebels. If that means restoring your old rights, then so be it.” A predatory grin crossed her lips. “Rest assured, I fully intend to remove them once the war is o’er if at all I can. But for now I need your loyalty, so your rights are secure. Court politics can wait until after we have saved Her Majesty’s throne.”
Many of the nobles seemed mollified by Sunbeam’s words, but Pure glowered at her. “Somehow I do not believe ‘twill be that easy.”
“When is life ever easy, Pure?” Sunbeam asked rhetorically. “We are at war, and war makes for hard times and hard answers. We have all sacrificed much in the name of victory. One mare’s ambitions are a small thing compared to Grandmaster Quest losing a son.”
While the Grandmaster nodded glumly, Pure still remained unsatisfied. “I find it curious how all your hard answers require you gaining more power at the expense of the rest of us. Promises are well and good, but I desire something more ... immediate. Several major decisions regarding the conduct of the war have been made without any consultation with the nobility—most recently, Rightly’s release. In the future, we feel we should be consulted on such decisions ere they are made.”
“Because the nobility has distinguished itself when left to conduct the war?” Sunbeam snapped, her patience fraying. “Tell me, what victories did we win when ‘twas Duke Polaris who was vizier and commanded the army? Whatever happened to him and his bold plan to attack the enemy? How well did his stratagems serve us?”
Though I knew I needed to support Sunbeam ere she said something unfortunate, I was wary of fanning the flames. I rose from my seat, planting my forehooves on the desk. “We cannot consult with every member of the nobility before making any choice that might affect the war effort. Battlefields shift quickly and are inherently chaotic. Often, there is simply not time to consult and build consensus; in war action must be taken quickly, or the opportunity to act at all will be lost.” I paused in thought for a moment, then added, “There are also times when secrecy is needed in war. ‘Tis well known that secrets are most secure when the fewest possible ponies are aware of them.”
Pure’s eyes widened and his teeth clenched. “Are you implying that if nobles were included in more wartime functions we would betray Her Majesty and pass information to the enemy? How dare you! I have half a mind to—”
“ENOUGH!” the Commander interrupted, her voice rattling the windows and making dust fall from the ceiling. Though her next words were softer, they were no less forceful. “Our good ponies, that is quite enough. This is a war council, and I will have respect ‘tween thee while in my presence. Is that understood?”
“Of course, Commander,” I dutifully responded.
“Aye, of course,” Sunbeam wasted no time in agreeing. “There is no sense in having a pointless duel over a few heated words.” She shot a rather pointed look at Pure and his companions. “We do not wish for a duel, correct? Or if we do, could we at least wait until the meeting is finished, and Her Majesty has returned to her chambers. It does so offend her when I burn mine enemies to a crisp or tear their bodies asunder, as I have done in many of my previous duels.”
Many of the nobles traded nervous glances, and none seemed to be in any hurry to challenge her. Unsurprisingly, they nodded their assent rather than risk the wrath of both Sunbeam and Celestia.
Having taken control of the meeting Commander Celestia seemed in no hurry to return it to Sunbeam and Pure Line. “My war council, with the release of Rightly I believe that we should send a messenger to the rebel camp, informing them of what terms we would consider acceptable. Does anypony object to this?”
“I think ‘twould be wise,” I said. “Rightly is honor-bound to treat with us, and I see no reason not to make that fact known to the rebels. ‘Twill increase pressure upon him to make peace or be seen as an oathbreaker. After our most recent victory we can negotiate from a position of relative strength.”
“Though regardless of what Rightly is obligated to do, I do not think the Avatar will wish to negotiate with us,” Sunbeam murmured. “Her reasons for continuing the war are far more ... personal than his.”
The Commander flinched at the mention of her sister, though she recovered after a moment and ‘twas so barely perceptible that I only noticed it because I had come to know her so very well. “If need be, I would be willing to discuss matters directly with my sister. If I can catch her during one of her more lucid moments ... reason might win the day. I am willing to make the effort, if naught else.”
Her eyes locked upon mine, and I heard her voice within my mind. “Shadow, I thank thee for facing my sister in battle, but ‘twas not fair of me to ask such a thing. I asked thee to fight in my place because I feared I would not be able to face her myself, yet it troubles me deeply that thou couldst have died whilst facing. While I often disagree with Sunbeam, she was correct in one matter: ‘twas cowardly of me to ask thee to fight in my stead. I will not make that mistake again. I beg thy forgiveness.”
I wished to answer her, but did not know how without speaking aloud, which would violate the privacy she sought with her spell. I knew that sometimes such magics enabled thoughts to pass both ways, so I focused my will upon the Commander and directed my thoughts towards her mind. “There is nothing to forgive, Commander. I fight your battles willingly.”
Commander Celestia blinked, staring at me for several seconds before slowly nodding. As our private communication ended, I realized that Sunbeam had been speaking to the council in the meantime. “... has been said of honorable nature of Rightly Doo and Dusk Charger is both her son and supposedly cut from much the same cloth. If there are two ponies in the rebel camp who can appeal to the Avatar’s better nature...”
“That is my hope,” the Commander agreed. “And if Rightly and the Avatar do not wish to meet us for terms...” Her eyes narrowed, and I saw within them the sort of iron determination I had dreamed of since the war began. Gone was the mare lost in melancholy; in her place sat a warleader. “Then let them reap what they have sown. I am tired of this war, of my ponies killing one another. It will come to an end.”
I looked to Sunbeam, a hopeful smile on my lips. At first Sunbeam was more reserved than I, studying the Commander closely. Howe’er, it seemed that whate’er she saw met with her approval, for I had ne’er seen her happier than she was at the moment. The delighted grin she wore added a comely aspect to her that I had ne’er before seen. When she spoke to her queen, her tone seemed similarly pleased. “Shall we make sure your arms and armor are ready for you, Your Majesty?”
The Commander hesitated, and for a moment I feared that Sunbeam might have pressed too far and too soon. Howe’er, after a moment the Commander seemed to gather herself, nodding to her archmagus. “That would be for the best. If I am to speak with my sister, ’twould only be fitting that I meet with her on equal terms.”
“As is only proper,” Sunbeam agreed. “Now then, as to the terms themselves, I would suggest that we...”
A gentle touch upon my shoulder drew mine attention away from Sunbeam. White Knight nervously withdrew her hoof, the way her eyes immediately fell to the table making it clear she feared she had o’erstepped her bounds by touching me. “Your pardon, milady, but there is news. I felt you would wish to be informed at once.”
“Proceed.” I doubted my new squire would have drawn mine attention from a meeting of the war council unless ‘twas worthy of my time.
She cleared her throat ere she answered. “Your daughter has just arrived at the Southern Gate.”
I noted both Sunbeam and Commander Celestia watching me, and judging by the smiles I saw on both their faces they had o’erheard White’s words. In light of that I saw no reason to delay rising to my hooves. “If the council will excuse me, I have family business to attend to.”
Commander Celestia smiled and nodded indulgently. “We think we can end this council for now. Please, return to your business, my ponies. And I am glad for thy good tidings, Shadow.”
“As are we all,” Sunbeam agreed, placing a hoof on mine and leaning in to speak privately. “I would not wish to intrude upon the initial reunion, but feel free to join me in my tower once that has been tended to. I know Midnight has sorely missed Gale and will be most heartened by her return. Especially when her confinement presses upon her so heavily.”
“I am sure Gale will be glad to see her as well,” I murmured.
White very softly cleared her throat once more. “Milady, there is one other matter. Dame Gale is not returning alone...”
I made haste to the southern gates, eager to finally lay eyes upon my child once more. For once I was almost glad of the unwanted admiration I seemed to have gained, for ponies hastened to remove themselves from my path. Not that I would have allowed gawking merchants or soldiers to bar my way for any longer than ‘twould have taken to move them. It likely also helped that White was scrambling my wake, calling out to the ponies of Canterlot to make way for me. While I had been uncertain about taking her on at first, she was making a habit of proving herself rather useful.
After what seemed both an eternity and merely a few moments, I saw my daughter for the first time since my death. As White had said, she waited for me at the southern gates. She looked smaller than I recalled, mayhaps on account of lacking her usual arms and armor. While irksome, that was hardly surprising, given the length of her captivity. (1)
1: Presumably Gale’s wargear had been recycled by the rebels at some point since her capture. While it was often customary to retain a prisoner’s gear in order to return it to them upon their release, enforcing that custom often proved difficult. Most likely Gale’s armor was scavenged by armorers who either could not or would not repair damage to existing suits.
As I stood before my child once more, I was suddenly mindful of the many eyes watching our reunion. Though nopony was so ill-mannered as to directly intrude upon us, the sight of mother and daughter reunited naturally excited no small amount of curiosity. I had no wish to make a spectacle of myself or her, and so with great difficulty I restrained mine emotions and forced my countenance to stoicism expected of a warleader. “Gale. Thou art returned.”
After her long captivity, my daughter had no such concerns. “Mother!” She rushed forward, snatching me in a fierce embrace and burying her face in my shoulder. “Oh, I have missed you so. For a time I thought I would ne’er...” She could not finish the sentence, but I knew what she would have said.
I eagerly returned my daughter’s embrace, secretly relieved that I need no longer restrain myself. While a materfamilias should not display excessive emotion, the world would think me heartless if I did not return my daughter’s affections. “I have missed thee no less keenly, my child.” With utmost reluctance I slowly released her, drawing back carefully to inspect her for any injuries or new scars. “Thou art well?”
Gale endured mine inspection with the faintest hint of irritation, which in and of itself was some reassurance that she was unharmed. From what I could see of her, no great evils had befallen her during her captivity. Though she was a touch thinner than I cared for after a month’s confinement and a prisoner’s diet, I saw no evidence she had been ill-treated. ‘Twould seem that, as Dusk had said, she had been spared from any cruelties Swift or the Avatar might have considered. If so, I owed him a great boon.
I noted Gale’s eyes travelling o’er me as well, which I suppose should not have come as any surprise. When last she saw me, Bright had pierced my lung with a lance—a wound that ought to have slain me, and mayhaps had by some reckonings. It seemed mine appearance met her approval, for she nodded. “Aye, I am as well as could be expected. And far better now that I am home once more.”
“As we are better, now that thou art returned to us.” I grasped her shoulder, as if I feared she would vanish in an instant if I did not maintain my hold upon her. “I know Midnight will be most relieved to see thee once more. She felt thine absence keenly. As did many others.”
Gale nodded, glancing about the crowd surrounding us. “I am surprised she is not here to greet me. I trust the child is well?”
“Well enough, though waiting for thee at her mother’s tower.” Though I was reluctant to speak a lie, we were in far too public a venue to tell Gale the true reason for Midnight’s confinement. “The city is too much a battleground for children to wander about unescorted.”
“I see.” Gale cast a glance back towards the gate. “I would like to visit the tower as soon as my duties allow, to reassure her that I am returned and well. Pity we cannot set a course for there at once, but I have one lingering matter to attend to.”
Her eyes fell upon the pony who had accompanied her to the city. Dusk Charger stood perfectly still, surrounded by a circle of my clanponies who watched his every move with utmost wariness. “I suspect they would slay him if he so much as breathed in a way they did not like. Naturally, I could not allow such a thing.”
“It seems thou hast grown fonder of him, then,” I murmured.
“Nothing of the sort,” Gale immediately denied, though I noted the slightest darkening of her cheeks. “I merely wish to ensure that I am the one who slays him.”
“Ah, of course.” I knew my daughter well enough to gauge the difference ‘tween her spoken words and the truth hidden within her heart. Though of course, speaking of it within earshot of Dusk would only sour our reunion. “Well, if ‘tis not thine intention to slay him today, then let us speak away from the walls. I would prefer a measure of privacy for our conversation.” I turned to the rebel envoy. “Dusk, if thou wilt leave thy weapons at the gate, thou canst rest until thou art ready to return to thy camp. I thank thee for escorting my child home.”
Dusk bowed respectfully. “Of course. ‘Twas my pleasure to escort fair and lovely Gale back to her mother.” He shot a smile towards my daughter, which she answered with an annoyed glower. “Though I do have a couple matters I need to discuss with you, mater .”
“Is that so?” I suspected he had terms from Rightly, given the conditions of his release. Howe’er, I did not wish to address the war just yet. “Very well then. We can discuss thy business after I have a few moments in privacy with my child.”
“But of course,” Dusk replied without a moment’s hesitation. “I had no intention of intruding upon the two of you. While my business is of the utmost importance, it can wait for howe’er long you and the lovely Gale need.”
Gale’s wings flicked, and she shot an annoyed look at the stallion. “Sadly, Mother, his business is in fact worth your time. A pity, as it means I must tolerate his existence for a few moments longer ere I might finally slay him.”
“Then I shall not make him wait too long,” I murmured.
I would have led my child to a nearby guardhouse, if not for White Knight delicately clearing her throat. I had all but forgotten about my young squire, who had remained dutifully silent while I spoke with my daughter. “Milady Gale, I am your mother’s squire. I am given to understand you have a claim on Dusk Charger’s life?”
Gale blinked, staring down at the young unicorn mare. After some time she cautiously answered. “I have stated mine intention to slay him, aye.”
“I see.” She grimaced faintly, then slowly nodded. “In that case, I shall defer on mine own claim against him. ‘Twas he who lead the attack that slew my brother, and I had wished to avenge myself upon him should the opportunity present itself. Howe’er, thy rank is greater and I presume also older than mine own, and I would not wish to seem presumptuous.” She cast a baleful glare at the rebel. “That said, should he attempt some treachery, I would ask thy forgiveness if I am forced to cut him down like a dog.”
Gale hesitated, uncertainly regarding the sheer malice in my young squire’s countenance. After some time she answered, “Dusk Charger is an envoy, and protected as such. If we were to slay him it would make us look the villains. E’en if ‘twere justified, many would not believe us.”
“Aye, that is so.” One of White’s ears twitched, and she spared another menacing glare for Dusk. “That said, while I will defer to thy claim if we both face him on the battlefield, I will not allow him to escape if you are absent. Meaning no offense, of course.”
“None is taken.” Gale shifted uncertainly on her hooves, casting back a look at the Charger that was bereft of its usual hostility. “In that case, I must make certain to find him first.”
“But of course, milady,” White answered dutifully. “I will watch o’er him while you speak with your mother. Should he cause any trouble, I shall make every reasonable effort to take him alive so that you might slay him yourself.”
“That would be appreciated,” Gale murmured.
Amusing as it was to watch my daughter flounder about in the face of a mare who genuinely wished Dusk harm, I wanted my child to myself. “White, if thou wouldst see to the prisoner...”
My dutiful young squire leapt into action, stepping away from Gale and I to watch o’er Dusk as though she were a starving hawk. I saw no reason to expect treachery from him, but if he disappointed me White would be sure to make him suffer for it.
With my squire diverted, I was free to lead Gale to privacy. The guardhouse was naturally occupied by several soldiers resting and taking a meal, but a single pointed look scattered them and gave us the building to ourselves. After a moment’s consideration I stuck my head out the door, catching White’s eye. “A privacy spell, if thou wouldst.” My squire wasted no time answering my request, allowing me to speak with my child without any fear of prying eyes or curious ears.
Gale cast a curious look out the window. “A unicorn squire. It seems much has changed in mine absence, Mother.”
“Sunbeam’s idea,” I explained. “With Stalwart’s injury I needed somepony to take up his duties as mine aide, and Sunbeam believed that granting the post to a unicorn noble might be a prudent political gesture.” Though so far it seemed the nobles were still less than satisfied. “She has proven capable enough thus far.”
Gale nodded, but a second later her countenance brightened slightly. “Stalwart’s injury? So he yet lives? Dusk told me he had died in the fighting.”
“We thought so for a time,” I admitted. “Yet it seems he is either stronger than any of us knew or merely too stubborn to allow himself to die.”
“It seems he is not alone in that regard.” She looked me o’er again, her eyes lingering on my breast where Bright’s lance had pierced me. “Mother, I dared not hope...” She swallowed, struggling with the words. “When I saw you fall, I was certain that the wound was mortal. For a month all within the rebel camp spoke of you as slain, and believed that Sunbeam’s claims to the contrary were naught but a lie intended to bolster our flagging morale. There is a part of me that can still scarcely believe you are...” She hugged me again, clinging to me as if she sought to confirm that I was truly there.
I returned the gesture, stroking her back reassuringly. “Aye, child, I live. Though the price I paid for my survival was a heavy one.”
She slowly withdrew from me, scowling. “What price is that? I have heard things, terrible rumors of fell pacts and darks arts. Naturally I did not believe such talk, especially given how the Avatar was created.” While she did not openly ask, the unspoken question hung heavy ‘tween us. “Were the rumors true?”
E’en with White’s privacy spell, I hesitated to answer her. There were doubtlessly better magi in the city than my squire, and if my status became widely known, it could end very badly for us. Thus, I answered carefully. “Suffice to say that I will not be removing mine armor for some time. Though Sunbeam and Celestia succeeded in preserving my life, ‘twas a very near thing. In truth I am still recovering, and likely will be for some time yet.”
Gale frowned thoughtfully, her own eyes flicking about our less than perfectly secure surroundings. After a few moments she offered me a small, understanding nod. “Some magic is ahoof then? Between the Commander, Sunbeam, and all the magi available in Canterlot, any number of miracles are possible.”
“Aye, and it seems one of them sufficed to save me,” I agreed. “The means used are ... not what I would have preferred, but I am alive, I am myself, and I can fight. Mayhaps e’en better than I did before mine injury. For now, that is enough.”
Gale’s pensive frown told me that she would expect a fuller answer ere long, though for the moment she was satisfied.. “As long as I still have my mother I am satisfied. I ... in truth I felt some empathy for Dusk’s position. His mother may have become a monster, but she was also still his mother. If I were placed in similar circumstances, I would still love you regardless of whate’er you had become.”
I took a deep breath, then slowly nodded. “I am glad to hear it.” As the matter seemed settled for the moment, I let it lie and embraced her once more. “Every moment I knew mine enemies held thee was agony. I feared Bright would seek her vengeance upon thee.”
She clutched me in return, shivering. “Aye, when she threatened to scourge me ... I was almost relieved, in truth. After she learned that you had survived, I expected to face an execution. Though e’en that would have been preferable to some of her other plans, such as wedding me to Dusk so that she could control our clan.”
I could not help but chuckle at daughter’s continuing animosity toward the stallion. “I see thou hast grown no fonder of Dusk. Curious, for he said he watched o’er thee during thy captivity. I would have thought that might improve thine opinion of him.”
Gale shrugged, affecting an air of nonchalance. “I suppose ‘tis true that he sheltered me from some misfortunes. He also ... acted as a gentlestallion should, especially considering he held me at a disadvantage.” She grimaced and reluctantly admitted. “I must concede that he exceeded mine expectations of him. Though mayhaps that is not something he should be too proud of, given how incredibly low those expectations were.” For a moment a contemplative frown crossed her face, then she sharply shook her head. “Though what I feel for him is of no concern. When next I see him he shall be mine enemy. Though I might attempt to capture him alive rather than slay him. He is a fool, and his blood would dirty my weapons so badly that I would ne’er be able to wield them again.”
For all her bold words, I noted how her wings curled slightly tighter around her frame, and the slightest catch in her voice as she spoke of her desire to spare him. I knew my daughter too well to be fooled by such bravado. “Gale, thou knowest of my feelings for Rightly, e’en though duty and honor have placed us on opposite sides of the battlefield. If thou wert ... fond of Dusk, then surely there are few who would understand thy position better than I. Thou canst speak honestly to me of such things.”
Gale could not meet mine eyes, and when she spoke her voice was soft, almost subdued. “I would have to be an e’en greater fool than he is to become ... fond of an enemy.”
“Then it seems we are both fools.” I chuckled softly, wrapping a wing around her. “But hopefully ‘twill not be for very long. With any luck, we will not be enemies for much longer. The end of this war would certainly make our lives much simpler.”
“Aye, that would be for the best.” Her eyes lingered on the floor for several seconds longer, then she pointedly cleared her throat and stood tall. When she spoke, she was once more the brash young officer I knew so well. “Especially in light of more recent events. May I offer you a long o’erdue intelligence report, Mother?”
I smiled warmly. “I would be glad to hear it.”
Gale began, seeming to take some comfort in the return to familiar territory. “After his release, Rightly wasted no time in deposing Swift Blade, who has now been stripped of his titles and clan, and banished from Pegasopolis. His clan has withdrawn to Cloudsdale, both as a protest of his removal and so that they might choose a new leader. Given the manner of his removal, there is some debate on whether or not his children should inherit.”
Welcome news indeed, though not entirely surprising. The withdrawal of the Blades from the war effort was a welcome boon. Though Swift’s clan was neither large nor especially skilled, e’en a few hundred warriors removing themselves from the battlefield was a victory. Especially if the debate o’er a new clan head extended long enough for the rest of the war to reach its end first. Or mayhaps, in a twist of the absurd irony that only war can produce, the Blades would be so incensed by Swift’s exile that they defected?
“There is e’en more momentous news,” Gale continued. “Though this information comes from Dusk, and is thus naturally unreliable, I have no reason to think he lies. According to him, the Archwarlock Hidden Facts was slain by the Avatar. One of Rightly’s conditions for taking up leadership of the war effort was that the warlocks abandon the use of black magic. When the Avatar accepted Hidden flew into a rage and attacked her. The new archwarlock appointed by the Avatar did not repeat his mistake, and the rebels have sworn off any further use of the forbidden arts.”
I could scarcely believe our good fortune. Not only had Swift been deposed, but Hidden Facts was slain. Sunbeam would certainly be pleased, though mayhaps also somewhat irked that she was not the one to see it done. Regardless... “That is a considerable victory indeed. By releasing Rightly we have achieved more than we have in many battles.”
“Aye, so it seems,” Gale agreed, though she did not appear as delighted by the news as I was. “Though I would caution that the war is far from o’er. The rebel camp is quite excited by the return of Rightly. Faith in their cause had flagged under Swift’s poor management, but many feel that Rightly’s return will restore the rebellion to its proper course. I heard much talk of how he will end the siege in a week’s time by launching the sort of decisive and brilliant strike which Swift ne’er could have managed.”
“I do not think ‘twill come to that.” For all my low opinion of Swift, I could not attribute the stalling of the rebel advance solely to his incompetence. Though it may be immodest to say so, I had planned the entire siege of Canterlot as a slow, grinding battle which sapped the rebels’ strength and negated many of their advantages. “E’en if Rightly has such skill, I suspect he will offer terms first. Am I wrong in suspecting that is what Dusk wishes to discuss?”
“He has said as much to me,” Gale confirmed.
I nodded, turning to the exit. “Well then, I should not keep him waiting any longer.”
“Neigh, I suppose not,” Gale groused. “At least I shall finally see the last of him after this. At least for a while. The fool had best not get himself killed ere I am done with him.”
“Aye, that would be a terrible shame.” Much like the Avatar, I was already pondering the political repercussions of a union ‘tween my daughter and Dusk. ‘Twould do much to heal the wounds of the war, and allow both our clans to move forward.
I found the stallion who, with any luck, would one day be my son-in-law waiting outside by the gates. He had set aside his weapons and was in the midst of trying to make small talk with my clanponies. He met with little success, likely on account of the hateful glare White Knight had fixed upon him. He greeted my return with an eager smile, no doubt relieved to see somepony who would treat him civilly.
“Dusk.” I waved the guards aside, allowing him approach me. “What didst thou wish to discuss? Terms from Rightly?”
“Indeed so,” he confirmed, drawing out a scroll stamped with the two seals. One I recognized as Rightly’s but the other briefly baffled me: a circular shield, with a crescent moon embossed upon it. ‘Twas presumably the Avatar’s device, as it combined elements of both Bright and Luna’s symbols. “As I was already escorting your lovely daughter to the city, Mother asked that I convey their peace terms to you as well.”
“Very good then.” I took the scroll, and after a moment’s consideration broke the seal. While I would naturally need to discuss the offer with Commander Celestia and Sunbeam, I was well within my rights to read the offer first. ‘Twould allow me to give Dusk some idea of how we were likely to respond.
Unfortunately, after a quick read-through of the offer I knew exactly what our answer would be. “I am afraid this is unacceptable.” The Commander might consider the offer if another of her melancholy moods took her, but Sunbeam and I most certainly would not.
Dusk sighed, his shoulders slumping in weary resignation. “I feared that would be your answer. Is there at least enough to form the basis for further negotiations?”
I grimaced and went o’er the terms one by one. “The independence of Pegasopolis is not something we are in any position to dispute, andd we likewise have no objection to allowing new elections amongst the earth ponies, though I find the proposed measures dubious. Having pegasi guard all polling places and supervise the election count seems likely to skew the results, e’en before the ban on Commander Celestia and any candidates directly associated with her. And demanding that she abdicate from the throne of Unicornia, and a council of nobles name a new monarch...” I grimaced and shook my head. “The rebels do not have the right or the strength to demand such a thing, it would be a farce. Or merely a bit of pageantry to legitimize the Avatar taking the throne. And I suspect Sunbeam would sooner flee into exile than accept such terms.”
Dusk frowned and grunted softly, shaking his head. “I suppose that comes as no surprise.”
“‘Tis a farce!” Gale snapped, glowering at Dusk as if he were to blame for this. “They knew that we would never accept such terms.”
“Aye.” Mine eyes flicked to the gathered soldiers, some of whom had doubtless served the old unicorn nobles ere the war began. Nobles who might well be tempted by the thought of removing Celestia and elevating one of their own to the throne. Not that I expected the Avatar to allow any other to occupy it. “But is it a farce for our benefit, or somepony else's?”
Dusk sighed, his eyes falling the ground. “I suspect ‘twas meant to satisfy the demands of honor without ending the war. Mother, or more likely Luna, has no intention of accepting any peace short of total victory. She and Celestia are as two opposing forces; there will only be peace when one or the other prevails. In truth, I do not think e’en mere abdication would be enough for her. The Avatar will only be satisfied when Celestia is slain.”
“So it seems.” I grimaced. “I had hope Rightly would prevail upon her better nature. If anypony could draw out Bright’s virtues...”
Dusk could not meet mine eyes for several seconds. “It is ... not so simple as that. Rightly does desire peace, but a secure peace of which Pegasopolis can be proud. I think any peace where the Avatar sits in Cloudsdale and Celestia in Canterlot would be naught but a short truce to rebuild and prepare for the next war.” He flicked a wing towards the wall, and the rebel camp beyond it. “The soldiers are in good spirits now. They speak of how Rightly’s return heralds the turning of the tide, and believe the next attack will break you. I suspect Rightly will strike soon after word of your refusal arrives. Nothing o’erly excessive, but something to firmly demonstrate the strength of his position. Then he will offer terms once more, and if you refuse the process shall repeat itself. Though of course, if he sees a chance to win the siege entirely...”
I suppose that should not have come as such a shock to me. Rightly’s strategy was the most accepted way to conduct diplomacy in the midst of a siege. The besiegers would offer terms, and if they were not accepted the battle would continue until another offer was made that reflected the new realities on the battlefield. If he advanced his position, he would press for a harder teaty; if his attack failed, he would offer more a generous one. Presuming neither side won a decisive victory, the siege would eventually reach a point where we both so sick of it we would find enough middle ground to end it.
Howe’er, I had not imagined a peace slowly ground out through further battles. The war was not o’er. Indeed, there could be months more ere we put an end to this madness. Presuming the Avatar and Rightly did not find some way to break our defenses entirely, as they would surely attempt to do should an opportunity present itself.
I slammed an armored hoof into wall. “Damn!” I took several breaths, trying to regain my composure after the sudden outburst and somewhat surprised to see cracks form in the thick stone. Once I felt in control of my humours once more, I turned to Dusk. “Dost thou think he can be swayed from this course?”
Dusk’s troubled silence was answer enough, e’en before he spoke. “I think he would be hard-pressed to end the war any other way. Too many of our warriors have died, too much sacrificed. He must have some victory to show his clan at the end of it all to make all they have suffered worthwhile.” Dusk hesitated a moment, then reluctantly added, “I suspect there might also be a small measure of pride to it, though he would likely be offended if I said so. Honorable or not, Rightly is a warrior. I think ‘twould sit ill with him to make peace without e’en once trying to break the city.”
I should have known as much. Doubtless his long captivity had worn upon him, especially as the war continued in his absence. The chance to return to war and prove his mettle, to redeem any loss of honor he might have suffered from his capture ... ‘twould be all too tempting. If he did not at least try to take Canterlot, he might always wonder if he could have done so.
Yet for all that I understood his reasons, I could not forgive them. It seemed that whene’er I counted upon his honor to bring him to my side, he inevitably disappointed me. Though I loved him still, he was once more mine enemy. Mayhaps it had been foolish of me to think that had e’er changed just because he was an honorable stallion. ‘Twas plain that mine own honor was of a different sort than his. ‘Tis often said that if one asked ten ponies to define honor, I would be met with a score of answers. Where I saw honor in serving Celestia’s ideals and bringing peace to Equestria, he felt the need to continue this war for Pegasopolis.
I took a slow breath, and tried to put my personal feelings aside to focus on my duty. “So be it. He has made his choice. I will settle mine accounts with him in due time. Thou wilt not suffer on his account, though. I will send a messenger to retrieve thy sister at once, and the two of thee will be free to return to the rebel camp.”
“My thanks but...” Dusk paused, seeming uncertain of his words. “I would like to speak with her first. There are things that must be done before she returns to the camp, if she does at all.”
His words caught me by surprise. “And why would she not? Gale is returned to me, and so she shall be released. That was our bargain.”
Dusk took a slow, steadying breath. “Our cause has become a perversion of what it once was. We began this war in the name of freedom for all ponykind, yet now it has become nothing more than a dynastic struggle ‘tween two alicorns. The world will be no better for our victory; all that will change is whether we are ruled o’er by a Sun Tyrant or a Moon Tyrant. And of the two, I fear that ‘tis the Avatar who more deserves the moniker. In light of that, I feel I have no choice but to join your cause.” He dropped to his knees before me. “I am prepared to pledge my lance to Celestia, the best Commander Pegasopolis can hope for in such dark times.”
Of all the possible outcomes of this conversation, this was not one I had anticipated. That Bright’s son would turn against her and willingly join our cause...
While I was at a loss for words, my daughter was not. “Curses, now I cannot look forward to slaying him in battle.”
Author's Note
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Aaron Kevin Meighen
Following Dusk’s surprising announcement, I had him placed in custody within the same guardhouse I had used for my conversation with Gale. Much as I wished to believe that his defection was genuine, I had suffered too many recent disappointments to accept his words at face value. Honorable or not, he was the Avatar’s son. The bonds of family can make ponies forget many principles that would normally be unbreakable.
I immediately dispatched White to retrieve Sunbeam, who would surely have her own questions for Dusk. While we waited for her arrival I took Gale aside. “Thou knowest him far better than I after spending a month and more in his company. Tell me, child, dost thou think that his offer is genuine?”
Gale frowned, her eyes flicking back to Dusk’s temporary quarters. “I could not say for certain. He made no secret of his discontent with the rebels’ conduct or the Avatar’s takeover of the war effort, but there is a great difference ‘tween displeasure and defection. And one would think that Rightly’s return would have done much to salve his worries. An end to Swift and the warlocks is no small thing.” Her countenance darkened as she continued. “Moreso Swift, if I am honest. He seemed willing enough to tolerate the warlocks, e’en if he did not care for them. It was Swift he truly hated—Dusk e’en contemplated making common cause with the warlock leader to do away with him.”
“Then why would he change sides within a day of Swift’s removal?” I asked.
Gale shrugged. “I could not say. He did not tell me of his intentions before we arrived here. Though in hindsight...” She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “A few of his remarks are cast in a new light. After his return from the war council he was most displeased that the war would not end and melancholic o’er the death of Sierra Doo.” Her countenance fell. “A fine mare, and a good friend to him. Myself as well, as much as our stations and positions allowed. ‘Twas she who warned him of Swift’s foul intentions.” She glanced towards the guardhouse once more, her eyes and voice softening. “It may be that he has simply broken. The loss of two siblings, his mother, and now his dearest friend ... ‘tis too much. Too many losses in too little time, and now he would do anything just to put an end to it. Would that there was some way I—” she grimaced and slashed a hoof through the air, cutting herself off.
“Thou wouldst salve his pain?” I concluded. ‘Twas not so difficult to guess, given her plainly evident fondness for Dusk. She would not be the first mare who felt compelled to heal a wounded heart.
“Only because ‘tis so pathetic that e’en I cannot help but pity him,” Gale answered, a touch of her usual bravado returning to her voice. Having once more established her curious position, she returned to a more contemplative tone. “But ... yes, I do believe it could be a genuine defection. At least, I see no reason to immediately doubt him. If naught else, he is far too stupid to lie so convincingly and too cowardly to dare such a bold plot.”
I nodded gravely, ignoring her jests. “As always, I thank thee for thy counsel.” Though Gale was far too close to Dusk to see clearly, her opinion was valuable nonetheless. If nothing else, it spoke well of him that he had managed to win her heart, especially when she had every reason to hate him due to mine apparent death and her own captivity. (1)
1: I can’t help but wonder if there’s a bit of Stable Syndrome involved with this romance between Dusk and Gale. Since they had some sort of odd relationship before her captivity, it’s a bit of an unusual example, not to mention how it continued well after she gained her freedom. Regardless, it’s apparently something that worked out pretty well for them, so I won’t judge.
“I think we can trust him at his word,” Gale confirmed once more. “Though I could spend days listing all his flaws, I do not believe a willingness to betray us would be on that list.”
Whether others would agree with my child’s assessment remained to be seen. The clank of armored hooves on stone announced Sunbeam’s arrival ere I saw the mare herself. It seemed she had acquired a retinue of guards, likely on account of how close we were to the front. Or mayhaps simply because having several battle mages accompanying her inflated her own sense of importance and made her seem grander.
Sunbeam herself stood before me shortly, and I noted that she was once more wearing mail beneath her robes. Mayhaps I should have moved Dusk further into the city, but I was less than certain what I should do with him. Returning him to his cell would seem unfitting after he announced his intent to defect, but I was not yet ready to allow him freedom either.
It seemed that Sunbeam was of much the same opinion. “The Avatar’s son wishes to join us? Either we have been given a golden opportunity or we are being played for fools. Which dost thou think it is, Shadow?”
“I have yet to decide,” I murmured, “though Gale believes it is the first. She would know him far better than I.”
“That she would.” The Archmagus turned to my daughter, smiling politely. “Gale, ‘tis good to see thee alive and well. I am sure my daughter would ne’er forgive me if I did not ask thee to visit her in my tower as soon as possible, but might I have a moment of thy time first?” She stepped forward, her horn glowing.
I frowned, instinctively taking a step forward to place myself ‘tween the two of them. “What is thine intention, Sunbeam?”
“She has been a captive of the enemy for some time, and the Avatar is most ruthless,” she answered, her tone gentle and carefully even. “I would not put it past her to attempt to warp Gale’s mind. ‘Tis possible she e’en asked Dusk to go through with a false defection so all our suspicions would fall upon him and we would not think to worry o’er Gale. Such mental manipulation leaves behind clear signs, which I would like to search for.”
I was uncertain how to respond, allowing Gale to answer first. “Though my mind is mine own, I think it ... reasonable to confirm as much.” She sighed, shaking her head. “If the Avatar has twisted my thoughts, then surely she would also twist them in such a way that I was unaware of what she had done.”
“So be it,” I grunted out, stepping aside but keeping a wary eye on Sunbeam. Though I had grown to trust her far more than I had e’er believed possible, there are few things more precious to a parent than their child’s safety.
It seemed that Sunbeam understood my concerns, for she turned a reassuring smile upon me. “Fear not, Shadow. I would not harm thy child.” She stepped forward, briefly touching her horn to Gale’s brow. After several tense seconds, Sunbeam opened her eyes and nodded. “All is well. Now, let us see to Dusk. Gale, if thy mother does not have need of thee, I would ask that thou dost report to my tower at once.” A faintly amused smirk crossed her lips. “If I return there ere my daughter sees thee, she will become most ... willful.”
“That would not do at all,” Gale agreed with a wry smirk. “If you do not object, Mother?”
“I do not,” I assured her with a faint grin. “If I kept thee from her side, ‘twould be I who suffered Midnight’s displeasure. Doubtless she would find her way to my quarters in the wee hours of the morning once more, endlessly asking why I would seek to deny her the pleasure of thy company.”
“Ah, so it seems the health and happiness of both the Archmagus of Canterlot and the materfamilias of my clan rests upon me seeing Midnight at once,” Gale concluded with a grave nod, only the barest trace of wry humor in her voice. “Then I shall waste no more time, for clearly this is a grave and urgent matter. I only ask that I be consulted ere any radical decision regarding Dusk is made.”
“But of course,” I chuckled softly. “I am sure if we decided to execute him, thou wouldst be most upset if we did not allow thee to strike the killing blow.”
“Just so,” my child agreed, turning and departing.
Sunbeam stared after her. “Curious. Dusk claimed he protected her, yet it seems she despises him. Rather ungrateful, I should think.”
“Not at all.” I could not help but savor the moment as I informed Sunbeam, “My daughter is quite madly in love with him.”
She stared at me for some time, blinking repeatedly. “I ... see. If this is the norm for how pegasi conduct their courtships, I shall have to reconsider e’er propositioning thee again.”
I could not help but grin as I saw the chance to amuse myself at her expense. “Ah, so that is all ‘twould have taken to dissuade thee. If only I had known it sooner...”
Sunbeam sighed and shook her head. “Ah, so that is the way of it if then.” She rolled her eyes to the heavens, or at least the cavern ceiling, in a way that reminded me of her daughter when young Midnight was in a particularly dramatic mood. “I know ‘tis often said that great mares are ne’er appreciated in their own time, but only now do I realize just how true that is.”
“I am sure thou wilt survive thy disappointment,” I countered dryly. “Now, if thou art quite done wallowing in self-pity, mayhaps we should return our attention to the war?”
“Aye, aye,” Sunbeam groused. “Let us see what we can make of Dusk Charger.”
The Archmagus and I strode towards the guardhouse. Inside, we found Dusk lounging in his seat and slumped down upon the table, but upon our arrival he quickly rearranged himself to look somewhat presentable. “Archmagus, materfamilias . A pleasure to see you both.” He offered us the sort of charming smile that had no doubt won my daughter’s heart.
Unfortunately for him, Sunbeam and I were both old enough to not be so easily won o’er by the looks of a handsome young stallion. While I simply ignored his attempt to charm us, Sunbeam took a far more direct route. She settled into a seat across the table from him, answering with a smile that resembled that of a wolf which had stumbled upon a particularly enticing morsel. “But of course it is. Now, whether the feeling is mutual will depend on a great many things.” She steepled her hooves in front of her face, hiding the grin upon her lips. “I have heard quite the tale from Shadow—one involving thy wish to defect to our side.”
Dusk took a deep breath, then slowly nodded. “That is indeed so, Archmagus. I am ... tired of this war. Of seeing good ponies die for nothing.”
“And how does joining us allay this?” Sunbeam demanded, leaning forward and locking eyes with him. “The conflict will continue regardless of which side thou wouldst fight for. All that will change is who thou art required to slay. Unless it is thine intention to sit out the rest of the war as our prisoner—a finely treated hostage who will no longer have to face the hardships of battle.”
“Not a prisoner,” Dusk immediately answered. “I cannot stand aside and do nothing as this madness continues. I would be your ally.”
“He could be useful to our plans,” I murmured to Sunbeam. “We do need ponies for our new Ephorate, and he is quite qualified.”
“So he is,” Sunbeam agreed, “but the question remains whether he is the right pony for that. ” Her eyes shifted back to the young Charger, but her attention was still upon me. “He says he tires of war, death, and suffering, but those things will not end merely because he joins us. Indeed, he will have to turn his hoof 'gainst his own pegasi, his very kin. A pain, I am sure, thou art all too familiar with.”
“It is not an easy thing to do,” I agreed, trying not to think of the cruel fate that had befallen my father. Was Dusk truly prepared to face such a thing?
He must have guessed at the topic of our discussion, not that doing so would have been terribly hard under the circumstances. “My dear lady, I will fight pegasi regardless of which side I am on. I find the prospect of crossing blades with Gale no more pleasant than facing any of my former allies. If I must—”
“But they are not just thine allies,” Sunbeam cut in. “Thou wilt also be turning against thine own clan and family. Art thou prepared to face them in battle? Couldst thou fight with all thy heart and strength against thine own mother, or thy siblings?”
Dusk sighed, his shoulders slumping and a weary tone entering his voice. “I would take it as a kindness if you avoided placing me against them. In truth, part of why I have come here is for my mother's sake. She is ... unwell.”
“Unwell?” I asked, wondering if mayhaps I had wounded her more significantly than I knew during our clash.
Dusk sighed, slouching further down as though all the life had left him. “Something of the transformation wrought upon her by the Nightmare has ... damaged her. Damage I fear she will not survive.” A quiet, broken desperation entered his voice. “I ... I have lost too much already. I cannot stand to see any more of my family die.”
Grim news indeed. The Avatar would not go gently into the night—if the rage I had seen in her during our battle was any indication, she would hurl herself against our defenses e’en more fiercely and abandon any sense of self-preservation. She would not fear death near so much as she would fear failing to avenge her slain children.
Sunbeam was silent for some time, frowning in thought. At length, she finally answered him. “I suspected this might be the case with her. As a vessel, thy mother is ill-suited to bear the power of Nightmare Moon. 'Tis like trying to build a furnace out of wood—the material is not suited to endure the heat and power of the flame, and in time will be consumed by it.” She grimaced and shook her head. “I will speak plainly; thy mother's time is but sand in the hourglass now. There is a reason why such rituals as the warlocks performed are shunned by true magi. Attempting to use magic to transform oneself into a higher state of being is an incredibly dangerous process, and attempting to create an alicorn is e’en moreso. Every False Alicorn e’er created has either died swiftly and painfully, or suffered an e’en worse fate.”
“But surely if anypony could save her life, it would be Celestia!” Dusk cried out. “There must be some hope for her!”
“And would your mother, under the influence of Nightmare Moon, ask for such assistance or even allow it?” Sunbeam demanded. “I think we both know she would not. It is exceedingly difficult to save one who does not wish to be saved.”
Dusk glanced to side, unable to meet our eyes for some time. “I know I might be forced to do much in order to rescue her. I have already shifted mine allegiance, and I suspect ere this day is done you will ask me to betray her more openly. Mayhaps e’en return to the rebel camp and lead her into an ambush. A part of me recoils at the mere thought of it, but...” He sighed and shook his head. “Would my mother do any less to save my life? I think not.”
Sunbeam frowned skeptically. “Everypony has said that despite her trucebreaking, Bright was a good and honorable mare ere she became the Avatar. If that is indeed true, then I am sure she would have gone to great lengths for her children.” She met Dusk’s eyes in an uncompromising glower. “Howe’er, thou must understand that now she is as much the Nightmare as she is thy mother. An exorcism of that magnitude is not an easy feat; if it can be done at all, 'tis best done with significant preparation and multiple experienced magi. And that is when the pony is being possessed against her will, and usually by a spectre or demon of no more than middling strength. Nightmare Moon is, for all intents and purposes, a demigod in power, and Bright appears to have accepted her willingly.”
Dusk grimaced, his eyes falling. “I know 'twill not be an easy task, but surely there must be some way she can be saved.”
I shot a pointed look at the Archmagus, trying to silently convey a warning. Dusk’s defection to our cause seemed born of his desperation to save his mother—‘twould be unwise to steal all hope away from him.
Sunbeam must have understood my meaning, for she let out a soft, faintly annoyed huff and adopted a gentler tone. “Though the situation is grim, it is not hopeless; the Avatar is but a shadow of Nightmare Moon herself.” Her annoyance faded as an almost eager light emerged in her eyes. “Queen Celestia would be her match and more if she fully committed herself to the fight. She would stand the best chance of defeating thy mother without killing her. If thy mother were taken prisoner, then we would have time to examine her and see what could be done. Certainly mine own skills are nothing to trifle with, not to speak of what Her Majesty is capable of, as well as the score of experienced magi I can call upon. And we have many powerful tools in Canterlot for tasks such as these.”
I added mine own words of reassurance. “I matched her in single combat. With support...”
Dusk glanced ‘tween the two of us, hope replacing despair on his face. “So ... there is hope?”
“While I will not promise anything, there is certainly a chance,” Sunbeam answered carefully. “And if 'twould bring this war to a peaceful conclusion, all the better.”
“A chance.” He sighed and shook his head. “I suppose that shall have to be enough. Better a chance to save her than no hope at all.”
I saw a chance to secure his loyalty. “We will require thy full cooperation. Every day wasted will make the damage done to thy mother all the worse.”
Dusk grasped my meaning easily enough. “You will have it.”
Sunbeam cut straight to the heart of the matter. “What do the Avatar and Rightly plan? No doubt their strategy has changed now that Swift is gone and Rightly has returned to command.” She shot an annoyed glare in my direction, then returned her attention to Dusk. “We cannot help your mother until we remove her from the rebel army. You will help us do so.”
Dusk sighed and nodded, slowly running a hoof through his mane. “As I said, they intend to strike soon. I am afraid I can offer no more than that—at the time I left they had not settled upon a strategy, nor do I think they will do so for some time yet. Rightly is still assessing the state of his own forces and yours ere he commits to any plan.”
Sunbeam grimaced. “‘Twould seem thou chose a rather poor time to defect. Mayhaps we should return thee to thy mother’s camp until thou canst bring us something useful.”
Dusk’s eyes grew wide as he grasped her meaning. “You intend to send me back, then? I ... I do not think that would be safe. The Avatar’s insight is keen, and I do not think I could act as a spy for long. There will already be questions about why I have lingered so long amongst you after returning Gale. If the Nightmare truly rules her, then she will show me no mercy just because I am Bright Charger’s son.”
“Then mayhaps thou shouldst have contacted us through more subtle means, that we might have gained some value from thee,” Sunbeam cut in acidly.
Dusk inclined his head in a mocking bow. “I hope you will forgive me for not perfectly anticipating your desires, Archmagus. I confess I am less than experienced in defection. If I make a habit of it, I shall learn to do it properly.”
“Already planning to change sides again?” Sunbeam asked with a smirk. “I suppose that is to be expected. Thou art already twice a traitor—first for joining the rebellion and now for turning against it.”
Dusk’s teeth clenched. “I am not a traitor. My loyalty has always been to Pegasopolis. When I became a soldier, I swore mine oaths to the Pegasopolan state, not Celestia. I owed her no loyalty save that which Pegasopolis itself granted her, and she abandoned us long before we stripped her of her title. And now...” The fire left Dusk’s eyes, his entire body slumping in weary resignation. “Now it seems that in order to save Pegasopolis, I must stand against the corruption that has wormed its way into the heart of my home.”
“A feeling I know all too well,” I murmured softly. “It is why I stand with Commander Celestia, and against the Ephorate. The ideals of Pegasopolis have warped into a twisted parody of what they once were. Thou dost say that Rightly will continue the war because to make peace would dishonor those who have already given their lives? I would think that the best way to honor the fallen would be to ensure that no more join them.”
Dusk nodded, slowly and wearily. “Indeed so. I have already buried too many who were dear to me. Lance, Thunder ... Sierra. And I fear my mother shall join them, despite all mine efforts to prevent it. I simply ... wish for it to end. I no longer e’en care how the war ends, so long as it is over. Nothing we stand to win in this war would justify what I have lost in it.” He scoffed and shook his head. “Honor. Independence. Legitimacy. They are naught but words. I would much rather have my sister, my brother, or my friend than any of those things.”
I struggled to find an answer for him. I had lost family to the war as well, and yet ... terrible as it may seem, it had not shaken my resolve. Where I had pressed on despite my father’s passing, it seemed that Dusk had broken. He had simply lost too much.
It seemed Sunbeam had reached the same conclusion as I, and further surmised that Dusk would be of no use to us if he gave in to despair. “There is still hope. If Her Majesty were persuaded to take action to restore thy mother to her right mind, that could make all the difference. So far she been hesitant to take the field, but how could she resist thy request? A child’s petition to save his mother is a powerful thing.”
I could see what Sunbeam hoped would come of this. Commander Celestia had finally begun to shake off the torpor that seemed to have held her e’er since the war began. If Dusk’s request could further that, she would be one step closer to joining us on the battlefield. If ‘twere successful, it would be a great boon to our forces.
Sunbeam tapped her chin, a smile growing on her lips. “Shadow, I think ‘twould be wise of us to hold something of an event to welcome thy daughter’s return and Dusk’s loyalty to our ranks. Nothing too grand, but mayhaps a small banquet with Her Majesty? I think I will also allow Midnight to join us for the occasion. No doubt she will become rather quarrelsome if I do not allow her some opportunities to leave the tower.”
I stepped nearer to her, dropping my voice to a careful whisper. “Art thou certain that is wise?”
“I think it very wise indeed.” Sunbeam answered with a smirk. “Imagine how enraged the Nightmare will be when she sees her children being welcomed so grandly into our ranks. Her temper burns hot, and with the right spark it might well ignite and drive her to foolish action.”
Ah, so that was her intent. Exploit the connection ‘tween Midnight and the Avatar in the hopes of driving her to distraction. One that might well succeed, given how deeply Bright seemed to care for her children. And if ‘twere the Nightmare that held sway o’er the Avatar instead, it would still cause her no small amount of consternation.
“A formal dinner?” Dusk glanced down at himself. “I do hope you can provide me with a decent bath and some fresh clothing. Alas, I had to leave quite a few of my possessions behind. Entering Canterlot with a satchel full of clothing, brushes, and other small luxuries might well have given away mine intentions, but I would hate to look like an unwashed barbarian before all of Canterlot. I admit, I am rather curious to meet your daughter as well, Archmagus. Gale spoke quite fondly of her.”
Sunbeam turned to him with a cold smile. “Then I shall ensure thou hast ample opportunity to make her acquaintance.”
Though I would have preferred to spend mine every waking moment with Gale, there were other matters that demanded mine attention. Howe’er welcome it was, my daughter’s return did not free me from mine other responsibilities. Thus, while Gale availed herself of the palace’s bathhouse, I met with Magus Morning Star.
Copper’s widow escorted me down a large workshop, where dozens of apprentice magi, at best a few years older than Midnight, crouched over small tables covered in gemstones. Many of the young unicorns looked ill-used, their robes and hair disheveled and unwashed. The room held the unique stench that accompanies a large mass of bodies forced into confined quarters for an extended period of time.
Morning grimaced at the sight of them, sighing softly. “Would that we could give them more time to rest, but with all our fully trained magi and e’en many of the older apprentices at the front we need their services all the more.”
“They are not the only ones to make sacrifices for the war effort,” I murmured softly. “Commend them for their hard work.”
“I shall.” She sighed softly. “But I did not ask you here merely to show you how they toiled. While our apprentices continue to enchant gems as quickly as they can, they cannot work upon we do not have. We have already dug deep into the emergency supplies that have not been opened for the better part of a century, and we are now using gems that would normally be discarded as unsuitable for enchantment.” She shook her head, staring out o’er the mass of toiling young workers. “I am sorry to say that our stores were never intended for an o’erly long siege. We did not have long to gather the gems we desired when the war began, and our efforts to gather what gems we could were greatly hampered due to the chaos that was tearing the earth ponies apart. Not to mention...”
“The mines within Canterlot itself are unusable with our armies gallivanting about within them,” I surmised. “And we conscripted most of the city’s miners for military service.”
“Aye, though e’en if we had the miners to spare I would dare not risk mining during times like these. If we were to open a passage the rebels could exploit, or cause a collapse that would bury our troops.” Her shoulders slumped wearily. “I have asked that our soldiers look for any gems that might have been uncovered by our engineers, but that is unlikely to bolster our stocks in any meaningful way.”
I could not imagine we would be lucky enough to stumble across hundreds of fresh gems so easily, and e’en if we did it would still require the services of miners to free them from the rocks and gemcutters to render them suitable for enchanting. Gaining a useful number of gems would likely require pulling most of those trained to perform the task away from our frontlines, and we could ill afford that loss. (2) “How long before we exhaust our supplies?”
2: Records indicate that the gem industry (miners, gemcutters, jewelers, etc) made up nearly a quarter of Canterlot’s workforce, and the magi were, unsurprisingly, the single biggest consumer of magically-useful gemstones.
Morning consulted a number of scrolls ere she answered. “I cannot say for certain. If we continue with the unrestricted use of gems as we have, where the soldiers have been using them as quick as we can make them... Maybe a couple of weeks, depending how hard the rebels push us. After that, we will see a sharp fall in the quality of gems produced. If we ration them, we might be able to stretch them for a few weeks beyond that.”
“Much depends on the enemy,” I agreed. “It will do us no good to have a stockpile of gems if we are so stingy with them that the city falls.”
“And we have already banned most gem uses that do not directly contribute to the war effort, and asked all the city to donate any gems they can spare.” She sighed tiredly as her eyes drifted out o’er the apprentices. “No matter how much waste we eliminate, it does not change how many gems our forces require. Spell gems like the fire ones our soldiers use so readily. Enchantment gems to keep our equipment in good repair. Not e’en considering how many lighting gems our troops require in the caverns...”
“Lighting gems?” I frowned. “Surely torches should suffice. The rebels manage quite well with them.”
Morning closed her eyes and sighed softly. “I did consider that, yes. But torches require linen and wood, both of which are also in short supply. Our healers need linen for our wounded, and wood is needed in fortifications, spears, arrows, and likely a dozen other functions that slip my mind. We would simply be shifting the burden elsewhere, especially since torches consume themselves far more quickly than lighting gems.”
Unwelcome news, though perhaps it should not have been unexpected. Morning was wise enough to have considered something so obvious. “Then it seems we had best find a solution ere we—”
I fell silent as I noted two familiar figures approaching: Knight-magus Shimmer, and the recently wed and widowed Nimbus. Her red armor now bore a diagonal black stripe across the chest to symbolize her mourning. Both of them looked to be in a foul mood, and ‘twas not hard to guess what might be the cause of it given White’s reaction to Dusk’s defection. “Magus Star, if you would excuse me for a moment...”
The two approached, saluting with a stiffness that betrayed their thinly-veiled displeasure. I returned the gesture and prepared myself for what would follow it.
As befit her Kicker heritage, Nimbus wasted no time getting to the point. “Is it true my husband's killer wishes to defect? And that you will accept him into our ranks?”
“He has offered to join our ranks, yes.” I responded, my tone carefully neutral.
Daylight grimaced in a manner that, now that I was aware of the relation, did seem oddly reminiscent of his mother. “And what have you done with him?”
“For the moment, we are evaluating his request,” I answered. “Such decisions should only be made after careful consideration of the facts.”
“Then you are considering accepting him into our ranks?” Nimbus demanded, her tone lacking the degree of respect that normally ought to be afforded to a superior officer. “E’en after everything he has done?”
“As I said, any decision will be taken once we have fully evaluated the situation.” I disliked such a carefully neutral answer, committing nothing, but it was the most honest response I could give. “In all honesty, we have not yet decided what should be done with him.”
Daylight grimaced at the news. “I am sure the Archmagus at least has a good idea about what should be done with his request.”
“She is one of those evaluating it,” I answered stiffly. “I would be very hesitant to follow any course of action she does not approve of.” Strange to think we had come so far, but war makes for many absurdities.
Nimbus grunted and nodded. “To be frank, I think it unlikely that he would betray his own mother so readily. The bond ‘tween parent and child is inviol—” She abruptly silenced herself at my darkening expression. Perhaps she realized that discussing the strength of such bonds was unwise when speaking to a mare whose father had tried to sunder her clan. Not to mention that Daylight’s mother had abandoned him as an inconvenience. Though I suppose that it was to her credit Sunbeam had done more than most nobles to ensure that he lived well.
Daylight pointedly cleared his throat and changed the subject. “I hope I do not have to remind you of his part in the breaking of the parley that resulted in your wounding, and that ‘twas he who took your daughter prisoner?”
I answered him with a flat look and a dry, faintly annoyed tone. “I could hardly forget mine own near-death, or my daughter’s capture. Howe’er, I have also not forgotten that Gale’s captivity would have been far worse were it not for his actions, and that ‘twas he who returned my daughter to me. Those actions shall also be considered.”
“I will note that he only returned Gale after we had traded Rightly and Dusk to the Rebels,” Daylight countered. “And only so that he might see his sister once more. His actions were born not from any generosity, but mere obligation. And with all due respect, that was not the best trade we could have gotten for such valuable prisoners.”
I grimaced and shook my head. “That matter did not resolve itself to my satisfaction.”
Nimbus’ eyes narrowed, and there was a hard edge to her words. “You speak as if ‘twere not your plan, mater.”
“Not all plans resolve themselves as the planner would wish.” I felt that I should say something more in favor of mine actions. “I think ‘twas far from a wasted effort; Hidden Facts is dead, and Swift exiled. The world is better for both those things.”
“The world, mayhaps, but not our cause,” Daylight rejoined. “We have traded two enemies who were poison to their own side for a stallion who is held to be the greatest of Pegasopolis’ ephors. Mayhaps I am not familiar with the intricacies of your strategy, but exchanging one weak foe for a stronger one makes for a poor trade from where I stand.”
“Rightly would not have been captured were it not for us,” Nimbus declared, a harsh growl entering her voice. “We did not capture Rightly to see him lost to us so cheaply. And ‘twas Dusk who slew my husband—surely you must have realized ‘twould only have been proper to at least have words with us ere deciding upon their fates?”
I frowned, not at all caring for her tone. Daylight took note of my reaction and shook his head, gently placing a restraining hoof on her shoulder. “All of that being so, we are being distracted from what we really wanted to discuss. Namely that we are wary of Dusk. Much about this is too convenient. I have trouble believing he would be so quick in betraying his mother, family, and clan. Especially after he had just been returned to their camp and seen many of the seemingly dishonorable elements within their ranks removed.”
“I do not disagree,” I reassured him. “I certainly have no intention of asking him to guard the gates ‘gainst the rebels. Until I am satisfied that he is truly loyal to us, he shall be treated with the utmost wariness.”
Nimbus scoffed softly. “Wary? He slew my husband!”
“And my best friend,” Daylight agreed. “And many other loyalists besides. He is no small part responsible for nearly breaking our lines during the last major Rebel assault. He is clever, resourceful, and intelligent, not to mention very close to much of the rebel leadership.”
I answered him levelly. “All qualities that make his defection a valuable opportunity.”
“If he is sincere,” Daylight rejoined with stubbornness worthy of his mother. “‘Tis not a gamble I would make so readily. Not when placing him within our city offers him too many opportunities to destroy us from within.”
Nimbus scowled and drew herself up, defiantly glaring into mine eyes. “I will not allow Radiant’s murderer to walk free. If you will not grant me justice through the law, then I shall take it myself. I demand the right to avenge my husband though juris ungula.”
Daylight nodded sharply. “I would also gladly fight a duel to bring my dear friend’s killer to justice, if you will not allow Nimbus to do so.”
I grimaced and shook my head, scowling disapprovingly at both of them. “Thy thirst for vengeance must go unsated. If he is sincere in his desire to join us, Dusk would be an invaluable resource. The needs of the war take precedence o’er thy desires.” I held up a hoof to forestall any objection they might offer. “If we learn that he had played us false, that will be another matter.”
“Then you shield him from justice!” Nimbus snapped. “As materfamilias it is your duty to avenge our dead, yet you refuse. Worse, you deny me the right to gain mine own satisfaction. My husband lies murdered, and you ask that I name his killer as my comrade in arms!”
“We are at war.” I met her accusing glare levelly. “Dusk’s defection could provide us with opportunities we could not gain otherwise. Opportunities that could save lives, or e’en turn the tide of this conflict. I regret that he slew thy husband—Radiant was a fine stallion. Howe’er, I have heard nothing to say that he slew Radiant in any foul or perfidious manner. Two warriors met in battle, and each did their duty. If every rebel soldier is a murderer, then we shall drown Equestria in blood with all the executions we must perform.” I gripped her shoulder, firmly yet not harshly. “I have not buried a husband, but I know the pain of losing my comrades and kin all too well. We cannot let that pain consume us until we forget all decency and reason. A warrior must learn not only how to wield a blade, but how to set it aside once ‘tis no longer needed.”
“Set my blade aside?” she repeated incredulously, shrugging off my hoof. “He may have slain the father of my child, and you ask me to stand aside?!”
Mine eyes widened as I grasped the fullness of her words. “The father of thy...?”
Her eyes fell to the ground, one hoof unconsciously cradling her belly. “The chirurgeons say 'tis too soon to be certain, but...”
“Ah.” I was not certain whether ‘twas wishful thinking on her part or truth. They had not been wed long enough for her to quicken with a child, but young warriors rarely waited until they were wed to share one another’s beds, especially in times of war. It might e’en have been why they chose to wed during the war itself.
Nimbus’ head hung, the fire leaving her eyes as her her anger turned to sorrow. “I only wish my child could have had a chance to know their father. Dusk Charger has denied me that, and he must be punished.”
Daylight stepped up to her side, wrapping a reassuring foreleg across her shoulders. “I promise to be here for thee, Nimbus, as Radiant would have wished.”
Nimbus replied with a wan smile and a grateful nod. After several seconds I delicately cleared my throat. “I see. Congratulations. In light of this information, I shall find an assignment more befitting thy ... condition.”
Daylight nodded approvingly. “Something without danger, I hope. I know matters are dire, but an expecting mare should not be anywhere that could see combat.”
“I would prefer to avoid that if at all possible.” Sending her to the battlefield might become a cruel necessity if the enemy sorely pressed us, but I could spare one soldier until then. “Mayhaps guard duty would suit thee?”
Nimbus briefly frowned, only to shift to a cold smile. “Somepony must keep a wary eye on Dusk until we can be sure of his loyalties. And of course, see to his disposition when his inevitable treachery is revealed.”
Daylight shook his head. “That sounds like a hazardous task for thee and thy child, Nimbus.”
“Not to mention the ... other considerations.” ‘Twould have been unkind to say to her face that I feared she would cut Dusk down at the slightest excuse, but a mare thirsting for vengeance could not be counted upon to view the facts objectively. Howe’er, there was the seed a more suitable task for her. “A more ceremonial post, then. Mayhaps the Archmagus’ tower? I know Sunbeam worries for her daughter’s safety.”
“Would there be other guards for the tower?” Daylight asked at once.
I shrugged. “There could be if she desires them, though ‘twould likely be other soldiers unsuited to the battlefield.”
“It is something I desire,” Daylight answered firmly. “Ceremonial or not, Nimbus should not be alone during such a duty. If the rebels have not already tried to assassinate Archmagus Sparkle I would be quite shocked.” (3)
3: According to Sunbeam Sparkle’s autobiography, there were multiple attempts on her life during the war. While her memoirs are usually considered a highly dubious source, there is at least some independent documentation for one of these attacks. Between that and the fact that she was both a key loyalist and especially disliked by the rebels, most historians believe it’s plausible that there were attempts.
Nimbus grimaced and shook her head. “I am no delicate flower in need of pampering and protecting. Howe’er, a small command would suit me.”
“Hardly a delicate flower,” Daylight agreed with a wry smile. “But thou must concede that thy condition requires special consideration.”
“For thy peace of mind, then,” Nimbus conceded.
Daylight responded with a grateful smile. “My thanks. I only wish for the two of you to be safe; I already have enough to worry about with White.”
I shot him a slightly offended look. “I have seen after her well enough, I should think.”
“Aye, and I am grateful for it.” Daylight sighed and ran a hoof down his face. “I fear the death of her brother was very hard on her. I would have taken her as mine own squire, were it not for the Archmagus’ plans and the fact that not e’en war stops politics. Though she has the skills to be a knight, I fear her heart is troubled.”
“These are troubled times.” I met his gaze seriously. “I will admit that I am not experienced in having a unicorn squire, but I would like to think that I know something of the ways of war and honor. To the extent that I can, I shall teach her of such things. I only hope that shall be enough for her.”
Daylight acknowledged my remarks. “I could ask for nothing less than your best effort. If there is anything you desire for her education, please, do not hesitate to ask.”
“My thanks for thy generous offer. I shall bear it in mind should I have any questions regarding Unicornia’s knightly virtues and traditions.”
“And my new assignment,” Nimbus declared, ducking her head slightly and amending the end of her statement. “Materfamilias.”
“It is what I can offer.” I grimaced and made one further allowance. “And as I said before, if Dusk is playing us false, thou shalt exact thy vengeance personally.” Though perhaps I would need to let White negotiate with her on the matter if it came to that.
“So be it,” Daylight conceded with a grunt. “Until then, I ask that you place a reliable pony to watch over Dusk. If he is here to betray us, then he likely has a plan that accounts for us watching him closely, for only a fool would think we would not be suspicious of his betrayal.”
I nodded grimly. “Then let us hope he is either honest or less clever than we are.”
The feast Sunbeam prepared in honor of Gale’s return and Dusk’s defection was a rather miserable affair, at least when compared to the one recently held for Radiant’s wedding. E’en that feast had been as much a matter of practicality as celebration, removing the last of our perishable foodstock that had been on the verge of spoiling. Now, the selection was far more limited—mostly simple bread alongside smoked and salted vegetables.
‘Twas also a far smaller affair, of course. I had released White from her duties for the day,asking her to break bread with Dusk would obviously be unwise. For that same reason her parents were not in attendance, and that absence made it improper to invite any other members of the Order. Greenwall declined on account of preferring to eat with his soldiers, and neither Sunbeam nor I wished to dine with only the nobles for company. That left the grand banquet at a mere six attendees: myself, Gale, Dusk, Sunbeam, Midnight, and Commander Celestia.
A poor banquet with miserly food. If ‘twere our intention to impress the Avatar with our opulence, then I think we had failed. E’en candles were in short supply.
Commander Celestia sat at the head of the table, a soft smile on her lips as she watched Midnight eagerly conversing with Gale. E’er since the child had arrived, I had not been able to say two words to mine own daughter, but I did not object to it. Gale seemed just as heartened to see her friend again, e’en if Midnight was apparently speaking to her at great length and in excruciating detail about the current state of her skull collection.
With Gale occupied, Dusk approached the Commander, his steps surprisingly hesitant. He paused before her, an uncertain frown on his face. “I apologize, but I confess I am not quite certain how best to address you.”
She answered him with a gentle, reassuring smile. “Your Majesty would be just fine, I think.”
Dusk frowned to himself. “While it is not mine intent to offend, I am no unicorn and you are not my queen.” He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Though I suppose I could acknowledge you as the Queen of Unicornia, e’en though I am not one of your subjects.” He smiled sheepishly. “I hope that would not offend you, Your Majesty.”
“Of course not,” she murmured. “I realize that thou hast no intention of offending me. Indeed, the entire reason thou didst ask how I would prefer to be addressed was precisely to avoid giving such offense.”
“That is true,” Dusk conceded. “I thank you for understanding it. I am afraid I cannot follow Shadow in naming you as my Commander. At the time I supported the Ephorate and my mother in removing you from office, and while I cannot approve of the course Pegasopolis has followed since asserting its independence, it was our legal right to do so.” He sighed, wearily shaking his head. “But I care little for such points of law and honor—at least, not now. I would ask a boon of you: my mother. She is unwell, and I am sure you would understand what ails her far better than anyone else in all the realms. If there is any hope for her...”
Commander Celestia grimaced, nodding slowly. “It is ... possible, albeit extremely difficult. At the moment, the Avatar exists because both Bright and my sister desire the union. Bright gains strength, and my sister a body free of her imprisonment. ‘Twould be far easier to restore thy mother to her right mind if she desired such a thing—so long as she wishes to remain united with my sister, she will fight us at every step of the process.”
“But e’en if she resists you could save her?” Dusk pressed.
“If fortune favors us, then it could be done,” Celestia reassured him. “I cannot promise anything, as much will depend upon the exact nature of her connection to my sister, and whether thy mother will listen to reason. Howe’er, I firmly believe that there is hope, and shall do everything I can to free her from the Nightmare’s influence.”
Dusk sighed and nodded. “The Archmagus said much the same. It seems that nothing is certain regarding my mother and if she can be saved. Howe’er, I will take a slim hope o'er none at all.”
As the two of them continued speaking on the fate of his mother, mine attention shifted to Gale and Midnight. My daughter was availing herself of the meal, despite its meagerness. Mayhaps e’en simple bread and salted vegetables tasted sweet now that she ate them as a free mare.
While my daughter’s mouth was otherwise occupied, Midnight was more than willing to fill the silence. “My life has improved considerably in the last few days. Mother has released me from my duties carrying water and allowed me to return to my books.” Her eyes narrowed, and a hint of a growl entered her voice. “I now despise water. It is far too heavy, and often produces considerable discomfort when carried in bulk.”
“As thou wert required to carry it,” Gale concluded.
“Aye.” Midnight nodded seriously. “That is what made it intolerable. I do not know what madness took Mother to make her think that I should be forced to carry water; mayhaps I somehow vexed her terribly, and she decided that would be a fitting punishment. If that was indeed so, then I shall no longer complain if I am cuffed about the head for misbehaving. ‘Tis far less horrible than being forced to bear water.”
“I see.” Gale could not entirely hide her amused smile at Midnight precociousness. “In that case I am sorry for thy troubles.”
“Thy sympathies are most deeply appreciated.” Midnight declared gravely, as though Gale were consoling her o’er the death of a loved one rather than a few unpleasant chores. “Thankfully, I no longer have to do that. I am quite enjoying my time studying.”
“And how wert thou spared the horrors of carrying water?” Gale asked. “Didst thou prevail upon thy mother’s mercy? Persuade her to release thee from thy servitude with sweet words or by laying out irrefutable arguments? Or mayhaps e’en petition Celestia to redress the grave injustice inflicted upon thee?”
Midnight grimaced and shook her head. “I attempted to bring the matter to Her Majesty’s attention, but she declared that she would not interfere in how Mother raised me so long as she did so properly. Alas, I could not persuade her of the depths of my suffering ere she asked her guards to escort me back to Mother’s tower due to the lateness of the hour.” She let out a long, put-upon sigh. “Thankfully, Mother said she did not wish for me to remain at the front line where I might be slain by the enemy. As I nearly was when the rebels assaulted our positions, and I came perilously close to falling to my death as the warlocks destroyed our fortifications. After that, I was nearly slain as Rebels came flooding in through the breech. A dead earth pony fell on me. ‘Twas unpleasant.”
Gale blinked in shock, then quickly looked her o’er. “Wert thou wounded?”
“Neigh, merely bled upon,” Midnight reassured her flatly, seeming far less perturbed by the specter of death than she had been at the prospect of carrying water. “The earth pony was fatally skewered through with a pike by one of our soldiers and fell ‘pon my horn as he drove me to the ground, howling in great agony as his body spasmed in the throes of death. Eventually, his screams of pain turned to cries for his mother as the last of his life left him and his lifeblood soaked me. Alas, my position did not e’en allow me to observe his eyes and see if the light left them as he passed on.”
Gale stared at the young child for several long seconds, then gathered her up into a fierce hug. “Ah, I truly did miss thee.”
Midnight blinked in surprise, then returned the gesture. “I felt thine absence most keenly as well. Please do not allow thyself to be captured again. ‘Twas most vexing for me.”
“I apologize for being so inconsiderate,” Gale answered dryly. “‘Twas most inconsiderate of me to deprive thee of my companionship by allowing myself to be captured.”
Midnight seemed satisfied by that. “So long as thou dost not repeat it, I shall forgive thee.”
“Most generous of thee.” Gale barely managed to restrain a chuckle at the child’s antics. “So thou has returned to thy studies? What occupies thine interest?”
The filly’s face brightened at the change in subject. “There are a number of things. Magic, dreams, mathematics, and possessions most notably, though there are also a countless profusion of lesser subjects that occupy mine attention for a time.”
“And which is your favorite?”
“Magic, but of course.” Midnight declared matter-of-factly. “I will become a magus someday, just as my mother is. How else shall I crush mine enemies when I am older?”
Gale chuckled softly. “Ah, I should not be surprised to hear that.”
Midnight nodded. “I am most rational in my goals.”
“But of course.” Gale’s eyes shifted to me, and it seemed she noticed that I was observing them. “Ah, Mother. I hope I was not neglecting you.”
“Nothing of the sort,” I assured her. “I was actually quite enjoying listening in on thy conversation with Midnight.”
“You do seem rather silent.” Gale leaned closer to me, softly whispering. “Are you troubled by what occurred with Rightly?”
“I am,” I confessed. “I thought him to be a stallion of honor, but...”
“Mother says that honor is one of the most useless words in all creation,” Midnight declared, as though trying to impress us by joining our conversation. “That if one were to ask a half-score of ponies about the meaning of honor, there would be a dozen different answers.”
“That does sound like something thy mother would say,” I allowed.
“She is not entirely wrong,” Gale agreed, to my surprise. Mine incredulity must have shown on my face, for she turned to explain herself to me. “Honor comes in many forms, Mother. Look to Dusk and the course he has followed: honor demanded that he follow his mother and clan leader, yet also that he oppose the dark magic that made her the Avatar. That he slay you to avenge his sister, yet also join forces with you to oppose the darkness within the rebel cause.”
“He broke his word to me.” Mine eyes narrowed at the mere thought of it.
“There are some who would say a prisoner is honor-bound to escape their captivity by whate’er means they can,” Gale countered. “And e’en then, does he not owe his clan and Pegasopolis more than you? The dead of his clan cry out for vengeance, and Pegasopolis needed a new leader after Swift was deposed. Should he value his word to you above his clan and nation? Many would say that the honorable course is to serve the greater good, e’en if it requires that he sacrifice a portion of his personal honor by breaking faith with you.”
“So honor could both justify him keeping faith and breaking it.” Midnight nodded to herself. “It is as Mother said: a word that can be used to justify most anything.”
“I do not think I would go that far,” Gale disagreed. “Rather, it is that honor often pulls us in many different directions. I must maintain my personal honor, but also honor my mother, my clan, my nation, and my commanders. Sometimes we cannot maintain all of those, and must chose which of them we value more highly.”
“That ... does seem a reasonable premise.” I conceded. “Though if that is the case, then Rightly chose poorly.”
“I suspect Rightly would say the same of you,” Gale countered mildly. “I merely point out that we must understand him to defeat him, and to his mind his actions are still as honorable as circumstances will allow him.”
“Choosing the lesser dishonor is still dishonorable.” I frowned, thinking back to some of mine own actions. “Though mayhaps sometimes circumstances leave us with no choice but to do precisely that. Regardless, I think his judgement was in error.”
“On that, we are agreed.” With an easy, charming smile Dusk joined us, settling into the seat across from my daughter. “After all, I would hardly be here if I approved of his choices.” His eyes turned to my daughter. “Gale, thou art a vision of loveliness.” My daughter responded with a gesture unsuited to polite company, which Dusk resolutely ignored. He then turned to the last of our party. “Ah, so this is the little Midnight I have heard so much about. It seems Gale’s description was quite accurate.”
“Oh?” Midnight’s head cocked to the side as she examined him. “And I am to guess you are the pony whom Gale despises with her very being?”
Dusk chuckled softly. “I do not think she hates me that badly.”
Midnight cast a curious glance at my daughter. “Gale, what is it you told me about him?” When she did not immediately answer, Midnight provided. “I believe you said he was the most loathsome creature you ever laid eyes upon—a lecherous stallion of poor character. Thou spake of thy desire to never see him again, for fear of how his company would cause ponies to speak poorly of you merely by being seen in the same vicinity, so lowly was his reputation. Further, you said that he is a pony whom even reivers and warlocks would not wish to keep company with. That you would gladly slay him at the slightest opportunity, and would feel as though a great scourge were removed from the world if he were dead.”
Dusk took the news in stride, smirking at Gale. “I did not know I was so often in her thoughts.”
“Aye, she spoke of you quite often.” Midnight stared at him, slowly blinking. “She listed out the many ways she would wish to slay you. She liked at least two dozen of mine own suggestions. Shall I go ahead and list them?”
Dusk grinned at my daughter. “I admit I am rather curious to hear this.”
Gale sighed and shook her head. “Well, if thou wouldst insist upon having thy loathsome nature and the cruel fate you so richly deserve discussed in detail...”
Midnight frowned at the two of them. “I am quite surprised you two have not tried to duel each other to the death yet. To stab, and slash, and maim one another in gladiatorial combat in a test to see whom is the greater warrior in a misguided attempt to please your mothers with your skill and prove who is the worthier heir to your houses.”
“I considered it,” Gale answered dismissively, “but that would be too quick and clean a death for him. His foulness requires greater suffering.”
“But of course it does,” Dusk agreed without missing a beat. “I expect she shall do something far more horrible than grant me an easy death in battle. Far too honorable for the likes of me. Neigh, I fear she shall inflict the most horrible punishment she could possibly imagine.” He leaned in close and whispered conspiratorially. “I fear she intends to marry me.”
My daughter’s cheeks caught fire, and she glowered murderously at him. Meanwhile, Midnight’s head tilted further. “Marriage? That sounds like a poor form of torture.”
“Oh my dear, innocent child...” Dusk murmured softly and shook his head. “She would be fore’er at my side, e’en within the safety of mine own home. Imagine having her there, upbraiding and demeaning me every day. ‘Twould be a torture that lasts an entire lifetime, and prevent me from e’er finding love and comfort in the arms of another mare. A cruel fate, indeed.”
Midnight frowned skeptically. “Why would anypony tolerate such a thing?”
Gale scoffed at the suggestion. “As if I would give him any choice in how he will suffer.”
Midnight frowned and stared between the two of them for some time, then sighed and threw her eyes to the heavens. “I do not understand such things. I would merely seek to cut such a pony's throat and be done with the matter. Watching their lifesblood spill out of their torn throat as they let out ragged gasps in a vain attempt to stave off death for a few moments longer would be satisfaction enough, but this is far too much work for far too little reward.”
Dusk blinked at her morbidity, then met Gale’s eyes. “She truly is unique.”
“As I told thee many a time,” she answered with a smile.
Dusk’s gaze shifted back to the child. “Well, such a lovely young filly deserves gifts.”
Midnight’s head shifted its angle as she stared at him unblinkingly. “Gifts?”
Dusk smiled, then reached into his saddlebag and removed a small kerchief, opening it to reveal a pressed flower. “A moonflower. I found it the other day, and resolved to gift it to the most beautiful mare I met.” He paused a moment to smirk at my daughter, then pointedly set the flower down before Midnight. Gale rolled her eyes at the display, grumbling several uncomplimentary and untrue things about his parentage under her breath.
Midnight stared down at the flower. “Um...” She shifted awkwardly in her seat. “I am sure there are prettier mares than myself. I am not even technically a mare.”
Dusk smile did not waver. “Nonetheless, I offer this to thee.”
“I see.” She frowned down at the flower, then back up at him. “Well, Mother would say I should accept a gift in the spirit it is given.”
Right as Midnight would have taken the flower for herself, Dusk swiftly pulled it back. Midnight blinked in surprise, and Dusk answered her with an easy smile. “Alas, now that I have finally seen thee in the flesh, I feel that a mere flower is not a fitting gift for such a lovely young lady. I pray that thou shalt forgive me for failing to have something suitable, but I give my word that I shall offer thee something ten times better on the morrow.”
“Oh.” Midnight frowned down at the flower as Dusk tucked it away. “Very well then.”
Dusk smiled disarmingly and made a quick recovery. “For the moment, you may have my cake.” He passed her his slice, though ‘twas a rather poor excuse for cake. Presumably the kitchen lacked all the ingredients to make it properly.
“I do like cake.” Midnight announced gravely, ere she began to eat it with such enthusiasm that ‘twas plain she was not upset by any deficiencies in its quality. She paused between bites, frowning thoughtfully. “At least as long as it has not been poisoned or the like, which would cause me to vomit and void myself uncontrollably while experiencing excruciating pain as my body slowly collapsed from the poison’s effects. That would ruin cake, I would think.”
“I promise, there was no poison in it.” Dusk paused, then pointedly turned to my daughter. “Unless Gale poisoned it, that is.”
My daughter scoffed. “As if I would let thee die so quickly and cleanly.”
Assured of her cake’s safeness, Midnight resumed eating. After several more bites she paused to offer her thoughts. “Poison is not considered a clean death, and often ‘tis not quick. There are many poisons that can inflict a slow and agonizing death—Charity’s Choicy Choker for one. It causes the throat to slowly close, making it painful to breathe, but the swelling only closes the throat enough to make the victim feel like they are constantly choking to death before exhaustion finally claims them.”
Dusk stared at her for a long moment, then turned to Gale. “I see thou wert not exaggerating in thy description of her.”
Gale chuckled softly, wrapping a wing around the young girl. “But of course not.”
Midnight finished her cake, then paused, her eyes resting on me. “Gale, do you think your mother would like some cake?”
“Surely thou could ask me directly,” I cut in with a gentle smile. “And yes, I do enjoy a good slice of cake.”
Midnight smiled hopefully up at me. “Ah, I had hoped that you would.” She hesitated, and I could almost swear I saw a hint of a blush beneath her dark coat. “Mayhaps I could obtain a slice for you then. ‘Tis the least I could do after you saved my life in battle.”
“I would welcome that.”
Midnight proceeded to use her magic to obtain a generous portion for me. “Was there anything else you desired?”
I smiled dryly at her. “Mayhaps a glass of water?”
Midnight tried to smile, but one side of her face twitched in a horrible rictus. “Of ... of course. It would be my pleasure to ... to carry ... water. For you.”
Gale grinned devilishly. “Actually, I would like a glass as well.”
“And I too,” Dusk agreed. “If ‘tis not too much trouble.”
“One for me as well, child,” Sunbeam called out.
“As long as thou art getting water for everypony else...” Commander Celestia chimed in from across the table.
Midnight let out a long melodramatic groan. “Why? What horrible crime have I committed, that I must be condemned to suffer such a cruel fate?”
We all enjoyed a good laugh at the poor child’s expense.
Author's Note
FimFic seems to not be getting along with G-Docs anymore, so apologies in advance for any formatting issues. Tried to fix it all, but...
As always, thanks to my pre-reading and editing team for all their hard work. Also, I would like to thank all my dedicated Patreon supporters. You guys are awesome.
Click here if you want to join the list of awesome people who support my writing.
Aaron Kevin Meighen
The next several weeks saw frequent skirmishes, but no major assaults. It seemed that Rightly was content to bide his time, testing both the resolve of his own army and the strength of our defenses. According to Gale’s scouts, he was also pushing the earth pony militias through an intense drilling regimen. Clearly, he had no intention of carrying on Swift’s tactics of treating them as little more than expendable bodies. From mine own efforts with the loyalist militia, I knew that would be no small task. Greenwall’s soldiers had strong hearts and bodies, but a lifetime of iron discipline is not easily taught.
I could guess Rightly’s overall stratagem well enough—his probing attacks let him seek weak points in our defenses and kept us from e’er relaxing our guard while he readied his army for the final blow. Once he had found a suitable target for his main assault and his army was ready, he would attempt to smash us with a single decisive blow. He could certainly afford to wait, considering the sorry state of our own supplies.
A state all too readily apparent as I stood upon the walls, having paused in mine usual inspection of our troops to take a meal. Or at least, something our cooks had taken to calling a meal. The stew contained far too much water and far too few vegetables, as well as a single sorry piece of meat whose provenance I would likely be far happier not knowing. Likely, Canterlot’s supply of vermin was rapidly dwindling.
As I suffered through my meal in silence, I heard the near-silent hooffalls of my daughter approaching. I spared a brief glance for her, pleased to see that the scars of her captivity had already begun to fade. She glanced down at the half-eaten bowl of stew with a wry grin. “Not enjoying your meal, Mother?
“It is ... sustaining.” ‘Twould seem churlish to complain too bitterly of my meal’s quality when ‘twas the same fare all of Canterlot’s residence must subside upon.
Gale grimaced down at her own bowl, emptying it swiftly so that it would not linger upon her palette any longer than necessary. “‘Tis the best that is available, I am afraid. One of the many joys of living in a city under siege is subsiding upon what little food remains.”
“A fact I am all too aware of.” I grimaced and followed my daughter’s example, finishing the meal ere I could concern myself o’ermuch with its quality. “I hope the meager fare here does not make thee long for the rebel camp.”
Gale snorted and shook her head. “Hardly. For one, I do not miss the company of any of the rebels, e’en if the most insufferable of their number has seen fit to continue inflicting himself upon me. And for the second, I would say that the rebels are scarcely eating better than we are these days.”
“Is that so?” I asked, surprised by the news. “They have access to fresh supplies.”
“They do have access, aye.” Gale smirked and continued. “But getting those supplies in a timely and reliable manner, ah, that is another matter entirely. Let us not forget that ere the siege e’en began you ravaged their supply wagons, and replacing that much rolling stock is not an easy task. Our own armies stripped all the nearby fields to keep the city supplied for the duration of the siege, leaving them with little in the way of local forage. Transporting enough food to satisfy an entire army is no small feat, and I heard much cursing of Archmagus Mossy Banks, and his followers within the rebel camp. It seems they have been most effective at destroying the wagons trying to keep their army and Cloudsdale supplied.”
I nodded along. “And no doubt those troubles are are e'en keener now that Dusk's allies have joined his ranks.” (1)
1: In an effort to undermine Dusk’s opposition to him, Swift had dispatched both Ardent Stalker and Solus Kicker to hunt down Mossy Banks. Upon receiving word of Dusk’s defection, Ardent opted to follow his example and turn her banners to Celestia. Swift’s effort to undermine his rival left his allies perfectly positioned to defect en masse.
Gale smirked. “Aye, from what we have heard from their latest deserters supplies have slowed to a trickle. Bad enough when Mossy Banks had only his own knowledge of the swamp and a few dozen earth ponies at his side. With an entire pegasus clan supporting him, e’en if it is one of the lesser clans in Pegasopolis...”
“Then the siege is a matter of grim attrition,” I concluded. “Unless Rightly can force a decisive battle, the end will come whenever one side exhausts its supplies.” I frowned thoughtfully. “That contest does not favor Rightly. Hungry bellies will incline his soldiers to seek their fill elsewhere, while our forces are backed into the proverbial corner. Our soldiers do not have the option of running off into the countryside seeking a fresh meal.”
“Just so,” Gale agreed with a grim smile. “For all the privations the siege has brought, the populace and our soldiers do not seem ready to surrender yet. If the rebels were wiser, they would have sent Cloudsdale away to ease the burden on their supply routes. Dusk told me that Swift suggested doing so, or at least putting it on a circuit to collect supplies around Equestria instead of drawing on the same supply lines the army needs.”
“Prudent,” I allowed with utmost reluctance. Speaking well of Swift Blade in any context was uncomfortable for me. Howe’er, for all his moral failings he did have a talent for logistics. “Though perhaps difficult from a morale perspective. Withdrawing Cloudsdale could be seen as an admission of defeat, or at least a major reversal.”
“Not to mention that it would remove their families from within easy visiting range, which was half the point of moving the city so near in the first place.” Gale added. “‘Tis far easier to sustain a prolonged siege when one can absent themselves from the frontlines for a day to revel in the comforts of home. (2) That is why the others on the Avatar's council advised against it, and why it remains where it is. It seems they would rather deal with gnawing bellies than absent family, though perhaps their minds will change as hunger bites more keenly.”
2: Rebel policy at the time was to allow their soldiers one day at rest in Cloudsdale for every four spent on the frontlines. Of course, any vacation days would be cancelled in the event of major combat operations.
I smiled and settled a wing across my daughter’s back. “I know which I would rather face.”
Gale leaned into my touch, saying nothing for there were no words needed. After the moment passed, we returned to business. “Still, our own supplies are not enviable. Pity we could not persuade Celestia to expel the civilians from the city ere we were besieged, but I suppose that would have damaged our morale e’en more than sending away Cloudsdale would harm the rebels.” She grimaced down at her empty bowl. “I have heard some of the unicorns responsible for managing our supplies suggest we are approaching a time when rations for the ponies of Canterlot should be cut. If we reduce our meals to the bare minimum we could hold out through winter, assuming nothing goes amiss.”
In mine own experience, ‘twas ne’er wise to assume that nothing would go amiss. Though I supposed that an especially long and harsh winter would damage the rebels far more than it would us. Still... “Reducing our rations will not be received well.” Much as I did not care for the stew I had just eaten, the prospect of only having half as much of it was worrying
“But of course not,” Gale conceded. “Howe’er, I think ‘twould be taken far better than the news that we have exhausted our supplies entirely. I am sure you are familiar with the tales of what happens to a starving city under siege, though I suspect Celestia would surrender long before we reach the point of eating our own dead.”
“‘Twould seem that our fate is largely out of our own hooves,” I concluded. “If the rebels can somehow deal with Mossy Banks and his forces, their supply woes will be at an end, or at least greatly reduced. If he can continue to harass their lines, they may well be forced to break the siege ere their army disintegrates out of hunger.”
“Troubles may come to the rebel camp e’en sooner than that,” Gale suggested. “The Avatar and her Earth Pony puppet government have already extended the militia’s term of service far beyond what is customary (3). The harvest season is coming soon, and if the rebels try to hold the militia past that it will not go well.”
3: Traditionally, earth pony militia units were only required to serve for ninety days a year and many communities attempted to further stipulate that their militias were not be deployed too far from their homes. By this point, most of the militia had been in the field for twice that, and far away from their hometowns. Naturally, the Avatar and the Free Earth Pony Provisional Democratic Republic justified these changes as emergency wartime measures.
“I cannot imagine it would.” Though I knew little of farming, I could not think this year’s harvest would be a rich one with so many farmers serving in the militia, and so many of our soldiers serving in battle rather than controlling the weather. Not to mention the demands of maintaining both loyal and rebel armies. If the few crops our reduced farmers had managed to raise were allowed to wither in the field...
Gale’s grim frown showed that she understood my concerns all too well. “The earth ponies and unicorns who know of such things all agree that ‘twill likely result in famine if the militia are not released from service.
“Something I suspect Rightly would not countenance.” One thing I could say for him o’er Swift, he would not reduce Equestria to ashes in order to win his war. “Though he has been intensely training his militia forces, so I must assume he plans to make use of them. If it must come before the harvest, then I think he will attack soon.”
“I agree.” Gale glanced o’er the walls, towards the rebel camp. “Especially since many of the earth ponies long for their home and families. ‘Twould not surprise me if many would refuse to return to the army if called upon.”
“Nor could I blame them for doing so.” I glanced down contemplatively at some of our own earth pony forces. “Especially after how poorly Swift used them.”
Gale nodded sharply. “Many of them have lost kin in the pointless attacks he ordered, especially considering the way the militia is organized. When each unit comes from a single community, and he committed so many of them to wholesale slaughter...”
I grimaced at the ugly conclusion; ‘twas the same reason clans usually fought in divisions rather than committing the clan’s entire strength to a single front. By dividing our forces, no single defeat could completely destroy the clan. Swift’s policies had likely cut entire generations away from several earth pony communities. Once word of that spread, I could not imagine any of the militia turning out in force for the rebels.
Which all led to a single conclusion. “Then it seems likely Rightly must at the very least win a major victory, if not the war outright, ere the harvest comes.”
“It seems likely, aye,” Gale agreed. “Maintaining supply lines in winter is a difficult prospect in the best of times, and with Mossy Banks and the Stalkers harrying their convoys it may well become impossible. I cannot imagine Rightly breaking the siege and withdrawing his army to secure winter quarters without first doing everything in his power to take the city.”
“That would not be his way,” I agreed. “Breaking the siege for the winter would give us several months to resupply, repair our fortifications, and rally our loyal forces. By the time the snows melt he would face a far more difficult battle.”
Gale’s eyes flicked out towards the rebels. “Just so. Time no longer favors him, and so the war must be brought to a swift conclusion. I expect that when he strikes, it will be with all the strength he can bring to bear. E’en if he cannot break our defenses completely, he will want to at least weaken us enough to make us accept terms.”
“That he will.” To his credit, Rightly had sent several more envoys offering terms of surrender, though none were any more acceptable than his first. Much as I wished for an end to the war, I would not surrender to him. “Howe’er, his circumstances do provide us with one critical advantage. Because he must win his next battle, he will not want to strike until he is certain of success. Thus, mine actions on the wall. I was thinking that today I would change our patrols to a four-shift rotation.”
Gale turned a curious glance my way. “For what reason?”
“To frustrate Rightly,” I answered simply. “Yesterday I had a quarter of our crenelations repainted in an asymmetrical but consistent pattern. Tomorrow I planned to rotate several of our unit postings. He probes our defenses to try and find a weakness, but if I am constantly changing our defenses...” I left the rest unsaid, trusting my daughter to follow the reasoning on her own.
I was pleased to see that she did.“‘The pinnacle of military deployment approaches the formless: if it is formless, then even the deepest spy cannot discern it nor the wise make plans against it,’” she quoted. (4) She paused, frowning thoughtfully. “Though we should ensure that there is no confusion on our side over the changes, and the lack of consistency does not cause any morale problems. Ponies do like a certain level of reliable routine.”
4: Who exactly Gale is quoting here is a matter of some debate, as this is the first recorded appearance of this quote and Gale doesn’t attribute it.
“That is something I have considered,” I allowed. “It can be difficult to unsettle Rightly and his own forces without also making our own uncertain. Howe’er, I suspect our own forces can guess at my reasons, and on the whole they can accept a few shift and assignment changes with far less upset than ‘twill cause for Rightly’s plans. Still, it might be wise to have words with some of the common soldiers at some point, to ensure that they know and understand my reasoning. And in any case, a bit of a shakeup will ensure that none of our guards become complacent or lax in their duties.”
“Aye.” She rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “We know there are cracks in the rebel ranks, what with Dusk’s defection and the Stalkers breaking with the rebels. I cannot imagine the Blades are happy with their pater being banished as he was, or their own reassignment to rear-area garrison duties. Though he has not been replaced yet, ‘tis all but certain the Blades shall not hold a seat on the Ephorate for several generations. Not to mention the problems we already raised about troubles within the earth pony ranks.”
“Precisely.” I felt the cautious stirring of optimism within my heart. “I suspect that time may no longer be wholly against us. If those cracks widen...”
Gale nodded, a smile playing across her lips. “Something I am sure we can do quite a few things to encourage. Near as the rebels know, we are far from the point of breaking. Our position seems all the stronger now, while theirs is weakening. If we can drive a wedge ‘tween them...”
“A prudent strategy,” I agreed. “Though one they will certainly be wary of after Dusk’s actions. Didst thou have any suggestions for how that might be done?”
Gale sighed and shook her head. “Pity Dusk did not remain where he was. He might have been more useful to us in the rebel army than behind our walls. ‘Twould certainly spare me the displeasure of his company. Though I suppose his defection was worthwhile not for his own minimal contribution, but because it prompted Ardent’s.” She sighed and shook her head, putting thoughts of the stallion who so enamoured her out of her mind. “In any case, I suggest that we spread propaganda amongst the rebel ranks. The rebels have been acting dishonorably, while the ponies of Canterlot merely wish to protect their homes, just as many of them do. The earth pony militia has always been more comfortable with defensive operations, and the clans of Pegasopolis style themselves the protectors of all ponykind. Perhaps now is the time to ask how this war serves those causes.”
“Sensible,” I conceded, “Though it may be difficult to accomplish. I suppose we could put Dusk to the task. Certainly such words would have more impact from the Avatar’s own son.”
Gale grimaced and shook her head. “The magi have means by which to communicate at a distance, or so I have been told. And I am sure you remember the Royal Canterlot Voice as well as I. Though I pity the rebels if they must listen to Dusk’s voice so magnified. Though that may well drive them to such despair that they all lay down their arms willingly.”
A part of me could not help but be amused at my daughter’s continuing intransigence on the matter of Dusk Charger. “I shall make inquiries, then.”
“Well and good.” Gale nodded, satisfied by mine answer. “Remember, one of the reasons why many of the rebels stuck with their cause was because they thought victory was inevitable after sweeping nearly all before them. Now the siege has stalled their army for nearly half a year, and they seem no closer to victory than they were when they first invested the city. The defeat of the Avatar in her duel with you has likely shaken their confidence too.”
“I think if we can repel their next attack, we may well break them,” I agreed. “Or if not an outright victory, force Rightly to retire to winter quarters. After several months of peace, he will have some difficulty persuading his armies to begin the siege anew, especially since we will be e’en stronger than we were when they first struck at the city. There will be a great deal of pressure on him to make peace.”
“That is mine own hope as well,” my daughter agreed, thoughtfully rubbing her chin. “And we can certainly work to encourage such sentiments within rebel ranks. Mayhaps it would be wise to see if we can sneak out an envoy to talk to the Blades. If we can turn them against the rebels too, they could cause even greater harm to their cause.”
I scowled at the mention of that most perfidious of clans. “That it would, though I do wonder if they would be an asset to our cause, given Swift's actions and reputation.”
“‘Tis true that Swift has damaged the clan’s prospects immensely. ‘Tis why they have been removed from the frontlines and once more consigned to rear-area garrison duty.” Gale held up a hoof to forestall any answer. “Howe’er, I would also mention that Swift himself has been removed from his position. It is hard to say who the clan’s new leader will be, but given that he was exiled in disgrace ‘tis likely that whoe’er takes up leadership of the clan will want to distance themselves from him as much as possible.”
I nodded thoughtfully as I realized the merit of my daughter’s suggestion. “Converting hundreds of rebels to our cause would certainly be worthwhile. Especially as the Blades were sent to the rear to manage rebel supply lines. It seems Rightly thinks that e’en without Swift, that is the best use for them. We have already seen the damage the Stalkers have caused. Turning the Blades as well would wreak further havoc. An army without food will not be an army for long.”
Gale grinned. “And if an envoy arrives soon enough, we could make the issue about where their loyalties lie be the deciding issue for who their clan head should be.”
“That is a possibility,” I agreed. “It is worth the attempt, if naught else. A single envoy costs us nothing and stands to gain us much.”
“That was mine own conclusion,” Gale nodded approvingly. “Destroying the rebel army in open battle is not within our power, but we can break their will and ability to continue the siege for Canterlot. From there, our options expand considerably.”
“Just so,” I confirmed. “Once they are no longer investing the city, we have much more space to maneuver. So far the only course available to us has been to hold the line and hope the rebels’ will breaks before ours. ‘Tis a grim struggle of attrition, e’en if that struggles seems to favor us at the moment. Though I do worry that turning this into a war of maneuver once more will favor the winged army.”
“Mayhaps,” Gale conceded, “but I think there is far more to winning a war than which army has more flying soldiers. We have already brought Celestia’s cause from the brink of ruin to the cusp of a major victory. I am sure we will find a way to avoid being undone by the very success we have sought for so long.” She grimaced, staring out o’er the walls and shaking her head. “It would be welcome if we had some means to hurt his army directly. I know the value of damaging their supply lines, but I wonder if the common soldiers and civilians will. ‘Tis why you fought the enemy at Avalon Vale ere the siege began. Most look to bloody battles for victory in war, not the question of whether the enemy army is well-fed.”
“I suspect that with our own food supplies slowly dwindling, they will understand the power of hunger quite keenly.” I pointedly looked down at the rather poor bowl of soup I had just finished. “As for the enemy, I will hurt them with whate'er means I have at my disposal. It matters not to me whether the siege fails because we break the rebels in battle or because they must withdraw to avoid starvation, so long as the siege fails.”
“Well said, Mother.” Gale shook her head, a faint smile slipping across her lips. “A victory is a victory, no matter how we gain it. I do not think the inhabitants of Canterlot will gainsay the manner of their salvation.”
“Aye, I would say so.” We both fell silent as I thought o’er the likely course of the war. For all our talk of our path to victory, I knew that ‘twas no certain thing. Rightly and the Avatar would doubtless do everything they could to take the city ere their supply situation grew critical, and their past attacks had pressed us sorely. I was far from certain we would be able to win the coming battle.
I took a deep breath and spoke a thought I knew would not sit well with my daughter. “If the city falls, I will not leave it. But thou must; the clan cannot die here. I know Sunbeam would carry on the fight so long as she drew breath. Wouldst thou join her?”
My daughter’s spine stiffened and her teeth clenched. “Mother, you know I would not do so willingly. My place is by your side.”
“Aye, I only speak of what we would do in extremis.” I sighed and shook my head. “I would no sooner be parted from you, but we cannot ignore the risks we face. I will not refuse to plan for the possibility of defeat because I find it too horrible to contemplate; ‘twould be most unwise to be unprepared should the worst happen.”
Gale’s frown deepened. “I know, but that does not make me like what you suggest any better. I have no particular desire to carry on a long and in all likelihood hopeless struggle with Sunbeam Sparkle as mine only ally. Should Canterlot fall, would it not be wiser to accept that the war is lost and make peace? I do not see how a long and in all likelihood hopeless struggle would be in the interests of our clan.”
I grimaced and shook my head. “I do not ask it lightly of thee, but our cause must survive. The Avatar—Bright, whiche’er name she goes by, she cannot rule o’er Equestria unopposed. Somepony must stand for Celestia e’en if we are defeated here. This is no ordinary war, but a battle for the very heart and soul of our species. We cannot simply give in and accept the destruction of everything we have fought for if we lose a few battles.”
Gale’s gaze dropped, her hooves shuffling uncertainly. “Is that what you truly desire, in your heart of hearts? For me to fight on for as long as I can, no matter how impossible the odds? To sacrifice my life and our entire clan in the name of your cause?”
I did not care for the way she worded it. It sounded ... selfish of me. “What would you prefer, my child? Speak thy mind freely.”
Gale fell silent, staring out o’er the wall for some time ere she finally answered me. “I wish for a great many things. In truth, I wish this entire damnable war had ne’er begun. Let Pegasopolis and the earth ponies break the personal union with Unicornia if that is their wish. Equestria did not always have one ruler, and could survive a return to the triarchy. Howe’er, lamenting the past will profit us nothing. As for the future, I feel torn ‘tween a dozen different directions.” She placed a hoof o’er her own heart. “I do not wish to abandon you, Mother. Not when I have come so close to losing you, and have only just returned. I am weary of war, and wish an end to this madness, e’en if ‘tis by surrender.”
She sighed and shifted her hoof to her head. “But another part of me knows what you speak of is wise and reasonable. I think my hopes for an easy peace ended when Dusk joined our ranks. The Avatar showed me mercy in the hope that he might win me to their side. Now that he has turned against her, something she will no doubt blame me for, that path is closed.” She turned back to me, a bitter smile twisting her lips. “Much as I hate the thought of this war dragging on eternally, if the worst comes to pass I may have no choice in the matter. Not unless I wish to give myself up for execution, and for all the despair this war has wrought in me I am not yet that far gone.”
I grimaced and shook my head. “I truly hope that such things do not come to pass. Far better if we can win this war cleanly.”
“On that, we agree.” Gale stepped to my side, slowly wrapping a wing around me. “I know that you ask me to be ready to flee not just for the sake of your cause, but because you wish for me to survive. And I know that for all your talk of duty, it is also a mother’s love that motivates you.”
I took a deep breath and slowly nodded. “Thou art my child.” Nothing more needed to be said.
Gale bowed her head. “As you are my mother. If ‘tis truly your wish for me to carry on your cause and lead the clan, whatever may come ... I will honor your request. If I did anything less, I would be a poor child.”
I could not help but wonder how that remark reflected upon my conduct with mine own father. I could only hope that mine own conduct was not misguided, and that I had been a worthy parent to my loyal daughter. “My thanks to thee, my child.” I held her against my side for a long moment, but lingering on the matter now that ‘twas settled would do us little good. “Now, enough of such grim topics, 'twill most likely ne'er come to pass.”
Gale grinned fiercely, albeit a touch brittley. “Aye, ‘tis far better use of our time to make sure that it does not happen in the first place.”
“Just so,” I agreed, mine eyes falling once more to our defenses on the wall. “Now, my most cunning and duplicitous daughter, I would ask thine expertise. What else might I do to frustrate and confuse Rightly?”
Gale turned a most mischievous smile upon me. “You could always sing and dance on the battlements. He would not see it coming, I assure you.”
I answered with a flat, unamused look. “I think, my dear child, that doing so would perhaps be a touch too obvious. Our objective is to be random, but in a way that leaves him wondering day and night if there is some broader plan to it which he has failed to grasp. Not wondering if I have gone mad.”
“Ah, well reasoned.” Despite being rebuffed, Gale’s smile only grew. “Mayhaps you could convince the archmagus to do it instead? The magi are known for their oddities, and he might worry ‘tis some strange magic she is weaving.”
The thought of Sunbeam carrying on in such an undignified manner drew a snort of laughter out of me ere I could master myself. “I shall bear that thought in mind. If naught else, it can warm my heart in dark times.”
Gale playfully nudged my ribs. “Did I actually manage to make you laugh?”
“It would seem so,” I allowed. “I admit, the thought of acting so ridiculously is ... a welcome jest. There has been too little cause for laughter of late. ‘Tis almost enough to make me want to ask it of her.”
“I would heartily encourage that,” my daughter grinned and nudged me once more. “If only to see the expression on her face at such a ridiculous request. And mayhaps she could be convinced. You can be quite persuasive at times, Mother. Not to mention how dear Midnight will react to such a bizarre spectacle.”
I chortled at the thought of that. “Ah, yes, ‘twould doubtless leave her most flummoxed. Very well then, I shall raise the subject with her when next we meet.”
We shared another badly needed laugh that lasted some time, yet still ended all too soon.
Rightly made his move the next day, but not in a manner I expected. Mayhaps he had taken inspiration from mine own efforts to confuse him. Instead of storming the walls with a horde of soldiers, he approached under a truce flag with only a small honor guard.
I stood tall on the walls, allowing myself to be seen, but did nothing more to acknowledge him. After several seconds of frustrated silence, he called up to me. “Shadow, I would speak with you about putting an end to this siege ere anymore lives are needlessly lost.”
“Speak, then,” I answered neutrally.
Rightly grimaced and shook his head. “Neigh, we are shouting at one another from across half a battlefield. Come, let us speak like civilized beings. I will e’en have my cooks prepare a fresh meal for us while we negotiate.”
Ah, clever. He both extended the offer of hospitality to make himself seem the gentleman, and reminded all my soldiers that he had access to fresh food. Not to mention perhaps stirring up resentment within the ranks if I took him up on that offer. I had no intention of letting him play that game. “We are speaking now. If you would have me leave the battlements, recall what happened the last time I walked out to speak with a rebel leader 'neath a truce flag.”
Rightly sighed and shook his head. “Shadow, I would ask you not to judge a mare half-mad with grief too harshly for her actions, but ‘twould not be fair of me. She wronged you badly and her actions reflect poorly upon her. Howe’er, I think that e’en though I cannot condone it, we both understand why she acted as she did.” He took a deep breath and slowly nodded. “Very well then. Shall I come up there to speak with you instead?”
A more reasonable offer than his last one, and one I was tempted to accept. Howe’er, I could not help but wonder if ‘twas part of some ploy. He could certainly cause no end of mischief from within our walls, accompanied by an honor guard. In the past I would have ne’er thought Rightly capable of such duplicity, but Bright shoving a lance into my breast ‘neath a truce flag had forced me to reconsider such beliefs. Sunbeam was not wrong in saying that some ponies would discard honor for the right price. “I think we can speak perfectly well as we are. If you have anything to say to me, say it in front of mine own soldiers, and yours.”
“If that is your wish,” Rightly responded, a tone of weary resignation heavy in his voice. “But if I must shout up at you, then for the sake of my throat I will not mince words or waste time on idle pleasantries. In exchange for the peaceful surrender of Canterlot, I am willing to grant concessions to both the ponies of the city, you, and your clan.”
“I will not surrender the city,” I answered without a moment’s hesitation. Howe’er, curiosity compelled me to ask, “What concessions do you offer?” If naught else, ‘twould give me some insight into him and his own position.
Rightly nodded, seeming to take my refusal in stride—‘twas quite customary for the besieged pony to spit defiance when first asked to surrender, only to cave in when offered good enough terms. Likely he hoped I was playing out that part. “I promise that the ponies of Canterlot will have neither life nor property harmed should you surrender. The only impositions we would force upon the city are a small garrison to maintain order and the disarming of all forces currently loyal to Celestia. We would also take a few hostages from notable families, but I promise that they will be treated with the kindness and dignity their stations deserve.”
Kind words, but the fact that he expected to occupy the city and disarm its inhabitants made it plain he had not shifted his position far enough. “I presume the rest of your terms remain the same? Celestia stripped of her throne and our cause undone? ‘Tis no more acceptable than ‘twas when you first proposed it, and no offer to be magnanimous in victory will change that. Especially not when my position has only grown stronger since your release. In a month's time you must either break the siege or starve.”
Rightly shook his head, easily brushing aside my threat. “Our supply situation is still far better than yours, and I intend on overcoming your defenses long before we must withdraw for the winter. I have prepared well over the last few weeks and the last offensive nearly broke you. And that was with Swift in command.” A slight contemptuous curl of his lip made his opinion on the exiled former Ephor clear. “Your soldiers are shopkeepers who are exhausted by battle, and your own warriors are overstretched. My soldiers are rested and ready, and their morale has ne’er been higher. I am not Swift, and will not misuse the soldiers under my leadership by wasting their lives needlessly or squandering their gains by fighting foolish duels.”
“Our soldiers fight to defend their homes against an army that offers them no end of cruelty should they fail,” I countered. “Ponies have been known to prevail against impossible odds when the stakes are that high. What do yours fight for?”
“They fight for the liberation of ponykind.” Rightly proudly set his hooves and thrust out his shoulders. “And I promise that no cruelties will be committed should the city surrender without their walls having to be breeched. There would be no looting, or murder, or rapine. Barely any pegasi would even need enter the city. We are even willing to allow the Kicker Clan back into Pegasopolis, with no punishment leveled on its common members.”
Ah, the common members. Not myself or my daughter, in other words. Though a part of me still hoped that Rightly would prefer to keep me alive, I doubted he could persuade the Avatar of it. Not when she blamed me for her daughter’s demise. As for the rest of it. “So you promise safety from rapine, murder, and pillage if we surrender. Does that mean that you also promise that ‘twill happen if we resist?”
Rightly grimaced and shook his head. “It is not something I wish to see, whate’er the circumstances. Howe’er, you and I both know what happens when a city falls after a long siege. Far safer for all if the matter is ended peacefully.”
I scoffed at his attempt to play at wounded pride and benevolence. “Ah yes, you are helpless to prevent such cruelties. After all, you are merely the commander of the army.”
Rightly’s eyes narrowed and his teeth clenched. ‘Twould seem he did not care for my wit. “You know I would punish those I found guilty of such crimes. I am sure you also know that I cannot magically control the acts of every single soldier in mine army like a puppet. I will do everything I can to prevent any unfortunate incidents and punish those who commit them, but e’en if not a single soldier misbehaves, the city will suffer greatly when it falls.” He sighed and shook his head. “I know many would die in a fruitless effort to defend their homes, imagining that the pegasi will inflict unspeakable brutalities upon them. After all, do you not claim that Bright is a heartless monster intent upon snuffing out all life in Equestria? I have seen her and spoke with her, Shadow. While she is changed, she is still my sister by marriage.”
He was promising much that I was skeptical of his ability to deliver. A degree of looting was all but expected whene’er a city fell, and e’en if the discipline of the Pegasopolan forces held, I had far less confidence in the conscripted earth ponies, and none at all in the supposedly-former warlocks. Especially when Canterlot was famous for its wealth and luxury, and the rebels had endured a long and unpleasant siege. They would want retribution, and to reward themselves for all they had suffered.
Instead of belaboring the obvious, I shifted topics in the hopes of wrong-hoofing him. “Let us say that the city falls then. How would you punish those who dare stand against your army of conquest? Would your offered mercy vanish?”
Rightly frowned up at me. “I would offer every mercy I can, but I would not be a fool about it. If Unicornia resists us to the end, then I must make sure that the unicorns will never have the means by which to plunge all of Equestria into bloody civil war and cost so many lives once again. This war is the product of too much power in the hooves of too few unicorns. Sunbeam Sparkle should not have so many offices, nor should a single knightly order supply half of Unicornia’s fighting strength.” (5) He gestured grandly, as though he were on a stage. “Equestria was built upon division of power, and it is past time we restored that. No single pony or organization should ever have the strength to take away our rights and liberties.”
5: Rightly is exaggerating, but the Order of Sol Invictus’ numbers did swell during the war, primarily because they actively recruited every able-bodied pony they could find while most of the nobles did little to expand their initial retinues.
“Except the Ephorate, of course,” I countered without missing a beat. “The Ephorate must have enough power to crush any who dare oppose it so that you might uphold your own vision of liberty. Is that not what freedom is: a state in which five ponies determine what is right and wrong, and destroy any who disagree by force of arms?”
“Curious that you would paint us as the budding tyrants when you ally yourself with Sunbeam Sparkle.” Rightly scoffed and shook his head. “Yes, we will have to impose certain controls o’er Unicornia in the wake of our victory, but our objective in doing so is to keep Equestria as a whole free. We will not be so suicidally devoted to the idea of liberty that we leave open the path for a second Sunbeam.”
“And so you strip away the rights of ponies in the name of keeping them free. A curious way of going about it.” I frowned and shook my head. “We will not bend the knee to you. Not now, not ever.”
“What do you hope to gain?” Rightly called up to me, pacing in frustration. “For all your defiance, what is your own cause? Distrust of Bright after her transformation? Stubborn pride? Keeping one mare who will not fight on her throne? You speak of Celestia as the rightful ruler of Equestria, but where is she? Hiding safe in a palace while better ponies die for her!”
“Who do you think holds up the shield that protects our city from you?” I countered. “Why has your army dug through tunnels for months instead of flying in easily? Because of Celestia. And let us not speak of queens without mentioning yours. You would put the thing that Bright has become on the throne in her place.”
“I would not put my sister on the throne,” Rightly countered at once. “It is Luna’s desire to see herself on the throne. That she and Bright are ... to be quite honest, the exact nature of what they are is quite beyond me, but they are not one and same. When the war is won they will be parted. Bright shall be as she should be, and Luna shall truly be restored to us. With Celestia gone, the unicorn throne is hers by rights, though I do intend to weaken its power in keeping with the principles of liberty we discussed.”
“Is that so?” I asked, lifting a single skeptical eyebrow that I doubted he could see from this distance. “Sunbeam seemed quite certain the Avatar’s condition was permanent. I think you have been told what you wish to hear.”
“And you have not?” Rightly countered. “I have learned quite a bit about your own condition. I am sure Sunbeam promised to restore you once the war was over, did she not? And I imagine you believed a mare who lies as easily as breathing, because you wished to. Am I wrong?”
We both knew the answer, though I would not give him the pleasure of admitting it. I could at least take comfort in the fact that others had confirmed her promise. I most certainly believed Celestia far more than I did Sunbeam. Though Celestia had been willing to place me in my current state...
No. Such thoughts did not bear dwelling upon. Rightly had only said what he did to unsettle me, and I would not give him the satisfaction of seeing it succeed. I offered no words, for protesting against his questions would only lend them further credence. Allowing him to speak such things at all was bad enough, debating the point profited me nothing.
Rightly must have guessed his words had some impact, for he pressed a fresh offensive. “I bid you to consider the fate of your clan, Shadow. If Canterlot is conquered, and it will be if we assault it, then your clan will be destroyed and its memory damned. The Kicker Clan has stood with Pegasopolis since the time of Lyequinegus. Would you have that legacy destroyed? And for what? You cannot believe that the ponies you are defending are worthy of such a sacrifice. What would your—”
I held up a hoof to cut him off. “If.”
He grimaced, less than amused by my laconic response. “Do not delude yourself or your followers. No enemy has stood long before Pegasopolis. Even if by a miracle you repel us we will come back next year, all the more prepared to reduce this city. You cannot defeat us in the open, and your only hope is to to stay hidden within your walls and tunnels. Mayhaps next year I shall simply collapse them, and leave you all to starve within Celestia’s shield. Is that the fate you are fighting for? A slow, painful death?” Rightly shook his head. “Think, Shadow, there is a better way. We can end this war quickly and without further bloodshed. Your clan would be accepted back in Pegasopolis, and I could arrange a quiet and respectable exile for you and your daughter.”
I rather doubted on his ability to do that. Bright wanted me dead far too badly to be swayed by any arguments about bloodless surrender or the dangers of making a martyr of me. Nor did I expect the Avatar’s rule to be half as idyllic and peaceful as Rightly hoped. “No. The war might end, but there would still be bloodshed.”
“And what alternative would you suggest?” Rightly demanded. “That we leave Canterlot and accept a divided Equestria?”
“I have offered terms,” I answered levelly. “That offer stands.”
Rightly scoffed and shook his head. “Unacceptable. E’en leaving aside that you are in no position to make such demands, as long as Celestia remains on her throne with Sunbeam Sparkle at her side, they will be threats to Pegasopolis. I would have true peace, not a mere truce until we are both ready to resume the war.”
“On that point, if nothing else, we agree.” I sighed, my shoulders slumping slightly. “And your terms are equally unacceptable to me. Is there anything left to discuss, then?”
“No.” He took a deep breath, then nodded more to himself than to me. “I will see you on the battlefield, Shadow. You have chosen your course, and I pray that you do not live to see all you cherish be brought low before the might of Pegasopolis.”
I chuckled humorlessly. “I think we both know that if you win the battle, Bright will leave me in no condition for tears.”
“Nor the rest of your clan,” he agreed solemnly. “Your only hope for survival is peace.”
“Or victory.” I drew myself up, standing tall and proud. “We knew when we left Pegasopolis that we would return victorious, or not at all. I pray that you live to see my clan march in triumph through the streets of Pegasopolis.”
“I cannot see what will ne’er come to pass.” He hesitated for a long moment, then spoke once more, his voice surprisingly solemn. “I did not come here personally merely to cross wits with you. I have drawn my plans, and the attack will begin soon. Your defenses will not hold. Canterlot will fall, and all you have tried to build will come to ruin. We are enemies, but I felt I owed you one last chance to avoid your doom. I will have your city, Shadow. One way, or another.”
“You think so?” I leaned across the wall, grinning coldly. “Then come and take it.” I turned my back on him, departing the walls ere he could offer any response.
Much as I had enjoyed getting the last word in my conversation with Rightly, that was a fleeting pleasure. By the time I had returned to my chambers, all that was left was mine e’er-growing frustration at the circumstances I found myself in. Frustration made all the worse by my seeming helplessness to further alter my fate. I had already reviewed our defenses so many times I had committed every stone of our walls and deployment route of our guards to my memory. ‘Twas well past the point of productive planning, and within the realm of pointless brooding.
I tried other means of occupying my mind. Practicing with my blades proved insufficient to relieve the growing tension within me, and an errant stroke left one of the couches Celestia provided for me in a rather sorry state. That I was so unfocused as to damage the furniture only spoke further to how badly I had been affected.
With nothing better to do I paced about, like a furious caged lion. I could only be grateful I had maintained my composure for long. If Rightly had seen how badly he affected me—for that matter if any of mine own soldiers had seen...
No. Such matters did not bear thinking upon. My humours were already unbalanced, and further brooding would only worsen mine already foul mood. I would be best served by finding some outlet, or simply confining myself until my temper eased. Morale was tenuous thing at the best of times, all the moreso in the midst of a tense siege. If it got out that I was upset and agitated, ‘twould surely lead to troubles as the common soldiers and civilians speculated on what ill news could unsettle me so.
Of course, growing wroth with myself o’er mine own foul mood did nothing to calm it. ‘Twould seem I was trapped within a cruel cycle of e’er growing fury. For all my declarations that Rightly was now naught but an enemy, he still had the unique ability to strike past my defenses. Damn my foolish heart.
I was certainly in no mood to receive visitors, so of course fate saw fit to have one come knocking at my door. I let out an annoyed snarl that surely carried through the sealed portal. “Unless the attack has begun, it can wait.”
To mine immense irritation, my visitor opened the door rather than obeying my wishes. Of course, only Sunbeam Sparkle could have the arrogance to flout me so openly. She strode into the room, regarding me with an amused smirk. “My, thou art in a foul mood.”
I nodded curtly, making a halfhearted effort to restrain my temper. “Sunbeam.”
She confidently strode into the room, regarding the sofa I had destroyed with a single raised eyebrow. “Quite the mood indeed. Dare I ask what has so upset thee? I can only presume ‘twas thine exchange with Rightly.”
“Aye,” I grunted out tersely.
Sunbeam sighed and shook her head, murmuring under her breath like a reproving mother. “Thou dost leave thyself too vulnerable to him. He is a blind spot in thy reasoning, and thine emotions are far too tightly bound to him. ‘Twas problem enough when he was thine ally and comrade, now that he is our enemy...” She trailed off, waving a hoof dismissively. “But I am sure that thou dost already know all that I have said. Unless I miss my guess, thou art upset with thyself for allowing such emotions in the first place. Thou hast the foul temper of a mare angry with herself for being angry in the first place.” With a spell she repaired the couch, though the damage I had inflicted upon it was still plain to see. “Well, out with it then. What did he say on this occasion to so unsettle thee? No new and terrible revelation, I hope?”
“He sought my surrender,” I replied with an angry snort. “He spoke of the mercy he would offer if we laid down our arms willingly, and the ruthlessness the Avatar would offer if we insisted on battle. He seems quite confident he will win, e’en to the point of warning me his next offensive will come soon. He ... vexes me.” I began stalking about the room once more, trying to calm the flames within my heart.
“I admit, I find him rather more frustrating than his predecessor.” Sunbeam grimaced and settled into the couch she had fixed. “Swift was plain enough: a small pony who envied the greatness of others, and so convinced himself he was far more than he e’er was. Had we more time for idle thought, I might speculate on whether the proud warrior culture of Pegasopolis and his own lack of combat prowess lay at the root of some of his more obvious deficiencies.” She leaned back, languidly stretching out. “Rightly is something else entirely. He works with monsters and is too stubborn to believe it. He would bring disaster ‘pon us and believe it honorable. Or perhaps he is simply too afraid to admit the truth; that his noble and honorable cause is now nothing of the sort, if indeed it ever was.”
My teeth clenched. Rightly was a sore topic, and the last thing I wanted to hear was Sunbeam carrying on about him. “Did I ask for thee or thine opinion of him?” I snapped, giving vent to my rage. “Perhaps thou shouldst remain silent regarding matters you know nothing of.”
Sunbeam scowled at me, rising from her seat. “He is a fool and our enemy. It is far past time that thou didst recognize that, whate’er thy past relationship with him was. 'Tis bitter medicine, but 'tis the truth. The sooner thou dost accept it, the better.”
I glared furiously at her, storming o’er until I towered o’er the mare. She did not so much as flinch in the face of my rage, which only served to rile me all the more. A dark part of me that I was sorely tempted to listen to wanted to do whate’er it took to wipe the insolent smirk off her lips, for I was quite sick of it. Howe’er, for the moment my reason held.
Of course, my seemingly impotent fury only encouraged Sunbeam. “My my, Shadow. Thy humours truly are unbalanced, I have ne’er seen thee in such a choleric state. Were I anypony else, I might fear for my safety.”
The casual arrogance of her remark coupled with the entirely too self-assured grin on her lips undid the last of my self control. I lunged forward, picking her up bodily and slamming her against the wall. Her eyes widened in surprise, and her horn began to glow, but e’en if I had not been clad in magic-resistant armor I was far too close for her to attempt any spellcasting. A moment later the light died, but her eyes remained wide and her body frozen beneath. ‘Twas enjoyable to see her at a loss for words. “S-Shadow? What...”
I hooked a hoof ‘neath her robes and tore them off her with a single savage jerk. She had her armor on beneath them, finely crafted mithril mail. I could not tear it off quite so easily, but it did not impede me for long. Sunbeam let out a startled cry at my rough treatment, so I silenced her in what seemed the best way at the time: with my lips.
After some time I parted from her, to find the mare still smirking beneath. “Ah. So that is the way of it. Why didst thou not simply say so?” She wrapped her limbs around me, pressing against me as I resumed my previous action. Nothing more need be said of what came next. (6)
6: Frankly, I would’ve been happier knowing a bit less .
Once ‘twas done, I lay on the floor with her. One hoof idly traced o’er her body, hesitating as I noted several marks that had not been there previously. I frowned at the results of my work. “I ... should not have left such injuries upon thee. ‘Tis not proper.”
Sunbeam smirked, languidly stretching beneath my touch. “Thou didst not hear me complaining. In truth, ‘tis somewhat flattering to know that thy passion was such that thou couldst not fully restrain thy strength.”
I grimaced and shook my head. “‘Tis not as simple as that. I was ... unkind to thee.”
Sunbeam rolled her eyes. “Do not think thou art the first lover I have taken who exercised a degree of ... let us call it vigor. ‘Twas hardly an unpleasant experience, or I would have objected to it.” Despite her words mine eyes yet lingered on a bruise of my making, until she sighed and soothed it with a spell. “These apologies threaten to ruin my good mood after a most pleasant experience. If thou dost feel so much guilt o’er a few small marks I can easily heal, then mayhaps thou shouldst offer me a boon in exchange?”
I scoffed and shook my head. “Seeking an advantage o’er me, e’en now?”
“Always.” She smirked at me, though the effect was somewhat diminished by her hoof idly stroking my side. “I am not wholly ignorant of pegasus custom in such matters, Shadow. Nor so delicate that I cannot sustain an eager partner in the bedchamber.”
I grimaced, pondering how best to word what needed to be said next. “I trust that there are no mistaken impressions regarding the nature of ... of what has occurred here?”
“As I said, I am familiar with pegasus ways,” she assured me with an easy smile. “‘Tis not something commonly discussed with outsiders, but ‘tis well known that soldiers are sometimes slaves to their passions when battle nears. In truth, I do not think ‘tis something unique to pegasi at all, merely something they experience more often. ‘Tis not so strange for ponies to seek such company when death is everywhere, and stalks us in the shadows. No doubt you have caught many of our soldiers in the act since the war began.”
“So I have,” I allowed. “I merely ... wished to be clear. Foolish of me; I suppose I need not worry that thou art besotted with me or would mistake this for ... more than it is.”
“Oh?” She pressed against me, grinning. “I have fantasized about this more than once, I will have thee know. Who would not?”
I scoffed and shook my head. “You mock me.”
“Mayhaps a little,” she conceded. “Verily, Shadow, what could possibly make thee think I would mistake what passed ‘tween us? I am no blushing maiden who thinks anypony who beds me must love me. Thy passions ran high, and we found a way to sate them.” She smirked, leaning her head against my chest. “A rather more enjoyable way than most, I must say.”
I grunted and nodded, slowly wrapping an arm around her. “My first time came after my first battle in the Patrol. Battle often has that effect; either the anticipation of it, or the euphoria of victory and survival.” I frowned contemplatively, struggling to plumb the depths of my memory ere I finally confessed. “I cannot e’en recall who ‘twas.”
“Ah, pity.” Sunbeam stretched her limbs. “I suppose I am luckier in that regard, if one can call it that. ‘Tis not uncommon for apprentices to learn more than magic from their masters. I had quite a few of them, in my time.” She sighed and waved and hoof dismissively. “But enough about past lovers. Neither of us has any illusions about what this was. Passions run high, and thou art a very passionate mare, as thou didst prove just now. It is clear you required a pony with which to loose the reins of control, and I was more than happy to serve in that role.”
“Thou didst certainly make more than one offer to do so in the past,” I commented dryly. “In fact, from the moment of our first meeting.”
“So I did,” she conceded airly. “But I think what passed ‘tween us now was something more than would have if thou didst take mine initial offer. We are both of us more than we were.”
“And less,” I murmured.
Sunbeam turned to me with a raised eyebrow. “Still grousing about thine altered state? Then mayhaps thou shouldst take note that thine armor was removed in the course of our activities. I would not suggest journeying too far from it, but it seems that thou art more mortal now than ‘twas the case when we first revived you.” She grinned mischievously, pressing against me. “And clearly thou hast a taste for pleasures of the flesh, which is always a good sign.”
Ah. I glanced down at mine own chest, seeing it bare for the first time since I had fallen against Bright. A discolored patch on my coat marked where her lance had pierced me, and the skin beneath was thick with scar tissue. Somehow I had expected it to be grander. Still, ‘twas good to see mine own flesh once more. And to know that ‘twas beginning to once more truly be my flesh, rather than a body of meat controlled by my true self within the armor.
Sunbeam smirked, a hoof drifting to areas I was still surprised I allowed her to touch. “Aye, thy flesh is certainly most ... lively. I have certainly had far less pleasant services to the crown. A few bruises are a small price to pay for keeping thy mind sharp, not to mention the ... other pleasures.” She playfully nudged me. “Thou art not unskilled.”
“Thine own skills were acceptable,” I conceded.
“Oh, merely acceptable?” She rolled about, placing herself atop me. “Acceptable? Neigh, that evaluation is not sufficient. I think I shall have to force thee to reconsider it.” She smirked, leaning down and pressing herself against me. “At great length, and in substantial detail.”
I grinned, surprised to find my passions rising once more. “Perhaps thou shouldst. The night is yet young, and I have yet to recover my senses and realize how unwise this is. Come, let us enjoy this madness while it holds us.”
And so we did.
Author's Note
As always, thanks to my pre-reading and editing team for all their hard work. Also, I would like to thank all my dedicated Patreon supporters. You guys are awesome.
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Aaron Kevin Meighen
The following account does not come from Dusk’s public memoirs like most of the previous passages, but rather from several of his private writings that never saw general publication. The reasons for that will be fairly obvious before long.
After a few weeks within Canterlot, Celestia’s forces allowed me some small measure of trust. Or perhaps they simply did not want to spare the soldiers needed to keep me under constant guard. Returning me to the dungeons might be easier, but it would rather blunt the morale value of having one of the Avatar’s children willingly join their side. I would make a rather poor propaganda tool from within a cell.
Thus, I was granted limited freedom within the city. They were not so foolish as to allow me access to anything vital to the war effort, but there was little harm I could do simply walking the streets of Canterlot. Especially as that allowed all the city to publicly see that I had turned against mine own mother to embrace Celestia’s cause.
For the moment, my concerns were far more grounded. I made my way to one of the city’s many hospitals, seeking my sister. Dawn, it seemed, was far more trusted than I; or perhaps Celestia’s forces simply needed her skills as a chirurgeon more than what little I had to offer.
Thankfully, my sister was not occupied when I found her. Fighting had been limited to skirmishing and probing attacks for the last few weeks, placing relatively few new patients under her care. Dawn had taken advantage of this relative reprieve to gain some much-needed rest, for I found her napping within one of the unoccupied beds.
I took a seat, then gently placed a hoof on her shoulder to wake her. “Hello, sister. I hope thou art not too busy?”
She jolted awake, blinking owlishly and yawning as she stirred from the dreams. “Dusk? Neigh, neigh—I was simply ... one of my patients had trouble late into the night, and I was recapturing what rest I lost saving him.” She rose from the bed, groaning and stretching. “How does the day find thee?”
“Passably well.” I helped her back into her armor. While full plate would not be practical for a chirurgeon, light chain seemed to suit her well enough. “I hope thou canst spare a few minutes for me. There are several matters we should see to.”
She rolled her shoulders to let the shirt settle into place more comfortably. “Aye, if I can spare time for rest, I can spare time for thee.” She paused, a faint frown flickering across her face. “I have seen far too little of thee since thy return. Something all the more troubling given the circumstances of it.” Her eyes narrowed slightly. “I had thought we would be returning to our mother’s side, only to learn we were defecting. I confess that I am not yet satisfied by thine explanation of why this is so.”
I sighed and shook my head. I had known Dawn would expect an accounting of me. In truth, that was precisely why I had been ... perhaps not avoiding her, but certainly not making an effort to spend time with her as I normally would. “I know. In truth, I came here because now I can finally explain myself properly to thee. Walk with me?”
Dawn nodded, and the two of us made our way out into the city. I still had not become accustomed to seeing the open sky through the shield spell Celestia held o’er the city. Though I suppose ‘twas no worse than spending all days at a time within the tunnels beneath the city, as I had done before. I would be glad when this war was finished, and I could once more see the open skies as a pegasus should. It had been far too long since I had enjoyed the freedom to fly as I wished, and that struck me as ... unnatural (1)
1: Unsurprisingly, claustrophobia became a common problem among soldiers who spent too long fighting in the tunnels, especially pegasi.
Though I had ne’er seen Canterlot before the siege, I could easily mark the changes war had wrought upon the city. Its open plazas and markets were all but abandoned, save for a few merchants offering distinctly meagre wares. Likely, the only truly profitable commerce within the city came from those who had hoarded food and now sold it at truly exorbitant prices, in spite of the government’s efforts to stop it. I would like to blame that on the corrupting influence of money in unicorn society, but I suspect that if ‘twere the pegasi under siege we would have our own ne’er-do-wells to contend with. The only difference would be what sort of extortion they demanded.
The streets were nearly empty, save for the occasional columns of soldiers passing to and fro. The civilians within the city seemed content to remain within their homes, waiting for an end to the war. Though I suppose there was little more they could do. The siege had obviously put an end to all mining, commerce, and most other civilian activities. With no other tasks to occupy them and a looming threat hanging o’er their heads, they remained with their families and hoped the oncoming storm would spare them.
Though mayhaps there was a far simpler explanation for most of the civilians remaining indoors. The first chill winds of autumn had entered the city, and ‘twould be no surprise if few opted to stray from hearth and home without a good reason. While Canterlot felt the cold more keenly on account of being perched atop a mountain, ‘twould not be long before colder weather reached the rest of Equestria. I only hoped this mad war would end ere the crops froze in the fields, else we would all face a very hungry winter.
As we neared our destination, I turned to my sister. “I know thou hast been placed in some difficulty on mine account. I apologize for that.”
“No apology is owed, brother,” she assured me. “‘Twas mine own decision to remain with my patients when Celestia’s forces o’erran our position. I knew the consequences of my choice, and I made it willingly.” Her eyes fell to the ground, her voice cracking slightly. “Mine ... mine only regret is that I could not save all who were under my care. Sierra ... Lance ... it seems that whene’er my talents are most sorely needed, I am not equal to the task. And let us not forget all the others who died because I failed to save Lance. Thunder ... and Mother is now...”
“Dawn...” I wrapped a wing around her. “”I know little of the medical arts, but not e’en the best chirurgeons can save every patient under their care.” I took a deep breath and spoke slowly to ensure that mine own voice remained even. “Lance and Sierra were beyond what help thou or any other chirurgeon might offer. Do not judge thyself too harshly for failing to accomplish the impossible.”
My sister frowned and shook her head. “Aye, I was told more than once in my training to accept that some of my patients would die, despite my best efforts. ‘Tis one thing to be told that in training, and quite another when ‘tis ... ‘tis...” She averted her eyes from mine, but not quickly enough to hide the moisture building within them. “Too many nights, I lie awake wondering if I might have saved our sister if I had only—”
“Do not,” I cut her off. “Do not torture thyself needlessly with such thoughts. It will not bring the dead back to life; ‘twill only bring thee more pain, and we have all suffered enough.” I had known far too many sleepless nights after the battle in the tunnels, where I ordered so many good soldiers to their deaths for a meaningless victory whose price made it feel more like a defeat. I would not have my sister suffer the same fate.
“I shall try,” Dawn murmured, though the weariness in her voice made it clear the effort would fail. I certainly had no success escaping mine own doubts and torments.
For a time we walked together in silence, for there was nothing more I could say to her. A few kind words from me could hardly dispel all the pain of our sister’s death, and no matter how many times I told Dawn she was not to blame for it, I wondered if she would e’er truly believe that. (2) “We both have far too many troubles weighing upon us. I would have preferred to cause thee less complications, yet it seems I only add to thy burdens.”
2: Judging by the fact that her own later writings on medicine deal extensively with how to treat abdominal issues similar to what killed Lance, it clearly weighed on her mind. Hopefully, she at least took some comfort in knowing that her work likely saved others.
Dawn shook her head and waved away mine apology. “I am not sure of thy reasons or that I agree with thine actions, but I know there was no malice in them. I would still be disquieted e’en if we both remained at Mother’s side.”
“I hope I can at least ease thy troubles sightly by the time we finish.” Our destination drew within sight: the home of a Unicornian noble by the name of Pure Line. The servant manning the front gates nodded as he spotted me, dutifully opening the way for us.
Dawn blinked in surprise, then frowned at me and dropped her voice an incredulous whisper. “Dusk, what is this? What business do we have here?”
I held up a hoof to forestall the many questions that would no doubt follow from those. “Patience, dear sister. ‘Twill be far faster for me to show thee than ‘twould be to explain it.” I moved past the guards, notably more than any unicorn noble ought to have considering the city was in the midst of a desperate siege. Though all things considered, that would be the least of Pure’s troubles should Sunbeam Sparkle e’er have his mansion inspected. Thankfully, that would not be a problem he need concern himself with for long.
We strode into a lavish dining hall decorated in far too much gold and cavernous enough that it could easily fit an entire company, Howe’er, the room was empty save for a single pony seated at the head of the table. Mother greeted us with a smile, looking up from a modest meal that seemed out of place in such extravagant surroundings. “Dusk, Dawn, it has been far too long since last I saw thee.”
Dawn’s jaw dropped in shock. “M-Mother?! When ... how...?”
Mother gestured for us to sit at her side, chuckling softly. “It seems that there are some within Unicornia who recognize their rightful queen.” She smirked as she levitated a piece of toast to her lips. “And the fact that I have promised to undo every single reform my sister and Sunbeam Sparkle have pushed through doubtlessly helped them reach that decision. As for how ... it was simple enough with a few illusion spells and guards willing to open the gates for us. My sister might have requisitioned most of Pure’s soldiers, but some of them remain loyal to their true master, and he is mine.”
Dawn turned to me, comprehension dawning in her eyes. “A false defection, then?” The faintest ghost of a smirk flickered across her face. “I suppose now I know why thou wert avoiding me, brother. Thou couldst never lie well enough to fool me.”
“I am not quite so hopeless as that,” I murmured, though in all honesty she was not wrong about my reasons for avoiding her. Lying to her would have sat poorly with me, but Celestia’s forces likely would have executed us both if my true intentions were revealed, and the best way to keep a secret safe was to reveal it to none.
“Thou art, but I shall forgive thee under the circumstances.” She stepped up to Mother’s side, tentatively touching her at first, as though unsure whether she was real. Once she seemed satisfied, she embraced her hard enough that Mother briefly rocked back in surprise.
After the initial moment, Mother returned the gesture, wrapping her wings around Dawn. “Fear not. Thy mother is here, and soon all will be well once more.”
Dawn nodded, reluctantly breaking from Mother’s embrace ere turning upon me. “Art thou mad?! Falsely defecting was a perilous idea! I shudder to think what might have happened if thou hadst been discovered!”
“A necessary risk, dear sister,” I calmly assured her.
“Just so,” Mother agreed. “Dusk’s actions were necessary to bring this siege to a quick end. While I can speak to our supporters in their dreams, they required something concrete to prove that ‘twas not merely an idle imagining. Dusk served quite well in that regard, repeating key words and phrases from the dreams I had sent—words that seemed harmless enough to his watchers, but would suffice to prove to our new allies that I truly had manifested within their minds. Thou didst thy task quite well.” She smiled proudly at me, but after a moment her eyes narrowed slightly. “Though thou didst not do all that I asked of thee.”
I looked away, unable to meet Mother’s eyes. “I could not deliver the flower to Midnight beneath her mother’s nose, and aside from the one meeting Sunbeam has kept her in the tower under guard. I could hardly go there without arousing considerable suspicion.”
Mother frowned skeptically at me. “It should not have been difficult to deliver a flower to a filly her age. There is little to be suspicious about if ‘tis done in good humor. I took every precaution to ensure that no art Sunbeam possessed could identify it as a magical conduit.”
I struggled to come up with an answer Mother would find satisfactory. “I ... was perhaps o’ercautious. I hoped to find a better opportunity rather than leap upon the first one that presented itself, and so missed my only chance.”
“So ‘twould seem.” Mother’s frown held for a second longer, then she sighed and shook her head. “I suppose I can understand choosing discretion. Sunbeam is quite paranoid about her daughter’s safety, and that was but one of the tasks I had set for thee. We can move forward without the flower. We will simply have to take more overt action to obtain the child. By the time they realize what is happening, it will be too late for them to stop us.”
Dawn looked between the two of us in confusion. “A flower? Sunbeam’s daughter? It seems there are many things I am unaware of.”
“Suffice to say we have put wheels into motion to make Canterlot ours,” Mother answered her. “Midnight Sparkle is the key to unlocking my full potential and sweeping aside what few defences hold our armies back. Once the ritual is complete, I will finally destroy the accursed shield that has forced our armies to spend months fighting underground, and without that the city will fall within hours to the might of the united clans.”
“So this war is almost over, at last.” Dawn sighed in relief. “Must I return to the hospital to maintain the ruse of normalcy, or might I aid in some way?”
“The time for secrecy is past,” I answered her. “I expect Mother intends to capture Midnight quite soon.”
“I have not done so already only because I was waiting for thee,” Mother answered without hesitation. “Once we attack the tower, Sunbeam will know her foes are in the city, and she knows enough of my connection to Midnight to suspect mine involvement the instant she learns of it. Howe’er, once we have the child it will be too late for her to stop us. Canterlot is too vast to search quickly, especially when all the city’s soldiers must remain upon the walls lest Rightly attack.”
She turned to Dawn with a gentle smile. “I wish to have thee by my side at my time of victory, daughter. Thou art the finest chirurgeon we have, and whilst I hope for a swift victory, we may have wounded to tend to after the attack on Sunbeam’s tower.”
I took a deep breath. “Might I have the honor of leading the attack on Sunbeam's tower? It seems only fitting, since ‘twas my lapse which made it necessary.”
Mother nodded her approval. “There is nopony I would trust more to lead such an attack, and the hetairoi would be proud to serve under thee once more. Flash has served as leader in thy stead, and should make an adequate second.”
Dawn reached over, gently squeezing my shoulder. “Thou art a fine commander. Mother's confidence is well-placed.”
I saluted sharply. “I will see your will done, Mother”
“I know thou wilt, my son.”
We waited until nighttime to launch our attack, so that the city streets would be as empty as possible. The rest of my forces also took the precaution of blacking out their armor, which would both allow a certain measure of stealth and allay any suspicions if they were seen. I could always argue they were some of the cast-off defectors from other clans if anyone questioned their identity. ‘Twould not fool Sunbeam or any other high official, but ‘twould suffice for mere soldiers and civilians. A few false bandages added to the illusion, making it seem as though they were fresh from the battlefront and waiting to recover from wounds ere they returned.
Flash nudged my shoulder. “It seems thou didst have a few watchers. Mother has seen to them.”
I glanced to the side, and saw Mother quickly disposing of two bodies. ‘Twas no surprise Sunbeam had set spies upon me, but those agents were hardly a match for Mother e’en prior to her recent ascension. Despite that, I increased my pace. “Best we finish our business as quickly as possible. ‘Tis only a matter of time until Sunbeam realizes her spies are missing.”
Flash shrugged uncaringly. “Unless they were due to report in within the next few minutes, she will learn of our attack on her tower first. ‘Twill leave the issue moot.”
“If all goes well,” I cautioned. “I cannot imagine her sanctum is lacking in magical defenses. We may find ourselves wishing we had more time to penetrate her wards.”
“Mother is with us, and wields the full power of Luna herself,” Flash countered. “No mere mortal like Sunbeam could hope to challenge her strength.”
Mother silently slipped to our sides to answer. “Aye, but I must act with discretion. The more heavily I draw upon my powers, the more difficult ‘twill be to remain hidden from my sister. And while I can certainly shatter whate’er wards Sunbeam has raised, she is a magus who has had many years to work upon those defenses. As with taking any fortress, breaking the defenses quickly will require a great deal of force and be hard to conceal. We cannot afford hours for me to slowly and carefully unravel her wards, and in any case the effort would be wasted; ‘twould not take long after her return for her to note her daughter’s absence.”
I frowned and shook my head. “Then our only choice is to finish the attack as quickly as possible, and return to our hiding place.” A part of me disliked the idea of such underhooved tactics, e’en though I grasped the necessity of them in this situation. “At least there will not be too many guards on her tower.”
“Dost thou know how many we might face, and their deployment?” Flash asked.
I answered my brother with an unamused look. “Dost thou truly think they would tell me that? That they would not be the least bit suspicious about why I wish to know the details about the defenses of the Archmagus’ home? A home which just happens to hold a child who is of great interest to mine own mother?”
Flash snorted and rolled his eyes. “Well of course not. But it cannot be that hard to simply walk by the tower and count the guards.”
“Neigh, but it might have raised suspicion,” I answered patiently. “Mother was quite clear that I should avoid taking any actions that might reveal my true loyalty. If they had any reason to suspect my loyalty, I would at best be a guest in the palace dungeons, and at worst hanging from a gibbet.”
“How often must thou cite caution as an excuse?” Flash sniped.
I frowned at my brother, surprised by his hostility. Mayhaps he resented losing command of the hetairoi after having held the post in mine absence? “I will cite it as many times as I must. While having more intelligence would be ideal, our entire mission would have failed if I had been found out.”
Flash grunted, not accepting my point but no longer arguing against it. Instead, he shifted tactics. “Thine erstwhile allies in the Stalker clan have caused us no end of problems by following thy supposed example.”
I sighed. “That is because Swift alienated them to the point that defection seemed a wise choice. I do not think myself so charming that a materfamilias like Ardent would turn her entire clan upon my say-so. Swift sent them into Mossy Bank's bog to be chewed up and spat out just like every other force we have sent into there. Is it any surprise she decided not to condemn her entire clan to a pointless death?”
“And yet they defected as soon as they received word of thine own change in loyalties,” Flash responded. “When Mother told me of thine actions, I had hoped that the Stalkers might also be some ploy. Though I think that unlikely, if Mother’s rage o’er their actions against our supply lines are anything to judge by.”
I grimaced and nodded. “Ardent Stalker has been doing far too fine of a job pretending to be a defector if what I have heard is true.” In truth, I did likely bear a portion of the blame for it. While Ardent had no shortage of reasons to be dissatisfied with our cause, ‘twas quite possible that she had not considered defection until I did so.
“Thou couldst have warned her of thine intentions,” Flash grumbled. “It would have saved us no end of trouble.”
“I had no way of knowing she was e’en considering changing her loyalties,” I pointed out. “And Swift had sent her away long before Mother and I hatched the plan we move to execute, if thou wilt remember.”
“Thou couldst not send a letter once the plan was made?”
“It would have taken more than a week to reach her, and we could hardly afford that delay,” I countered. “Not to mention the hazards of committing our entire plan to writing, and then sending the letter across the very supply lines that Banks has constantly harassed since the siege began. Ardent and I had not agreed to any codes or other means of concealing our messages, and if Banks happened to attack the convoy bearing that letter...” I did not e’en need to finish the sentence, for the consequences were obvious. “Mother intends to win the war with this stroke. E’en if we could have anticipated Ardent’s reaction, compromising our masterstroke to prevent a mild inconvenience on a secondary front is hardly wise.”
I paused, frowning in thought. “It is possible that she will return to our side once Canterlot falls, though in truth I do not think it likely. The die has already been cast, and unlike me she has fought battles against our forces and slain our soldiers. E’en if the defection were pre-planned, the clans would not forgive the deaths of their own soldiers. As it stands ... neigh, they will likely suffer the same fate as the Kickers.” It sat ill with me to think that mine actions might have helped push Ardent down a course that would end with her clan’s destruction. All I could offer in mine own defense was that there was no way I could have anticipated the threat, and in the darkness of mine own mind that seemed a poor excuse.
Flash scoffed at mine answer, shaking his head. “If not for this lapse we might have secure supply lines. ‘Twas a mistake, much like thine assault upon the Western Redoubt. How many of our soldiers will die on account of this blunder?”
I glowered at him, not appreciating the reminder of that brutal clash within the tunnels or his attempt to cast mine actions in a poor light. I had done my duty and won my battles. The only reason the assault failed was our forces being defeated on other fronts. “Do not blame me for this. This disaster lies upon Swift's head, for ‘twas he who alienated the entire clan and then placed them in an ideal position to devastate our supplies should they decide to defect. He has done nothing but turn this war into a sour affair.”
“That much we can all agree upon,” Flash grunted.
Nothing more was said as we moved through the night, silently approaching our objective. Thankfully, the few ponies walked the streets saw no reason to challenge what seemed like just another group of soldiers returning from the front after a day’s fighting.
Soon enough we drew within sight of Sunbeam’s tower. Torchlight glistened off the white marble edifice, and a small mixed squad of Kickers and unicorns held the entrance. Flash turned to me with a questioning frown. “How shall we engage them?”
“‘Twould be best if we struck quickly and quietly. Our task will be far more difficult if they raise the alarm, so we must put an end to them ere they have a chance to do so.”
“Quite.” Flash nodded. “Mother seems certain that Sunbeam herself is not there, else I would be far less certain of our chances to see the task done quietly.”
“Aye, she is not an opponent I wish to face e’en with Mother’s support.” Though Mother’s new strength would likely ensure her victory, Sunbeam would not die easily, and the battle ‘tween them would likely destroy anything and anyone foolish enough to come too close. Not to mention ‘twould surely draw Shadow and Celestia in as well. “Far too many warriors have fallen to her already.”
“Our brother first among them,” Flash growled, his grip tightening on his spear. “I am sure Mother will make her answer for that a thousand times o’er. And Shadow for Lance as well.”
I hesitated a moment, wondering if I should mention Shadow’s claim that Lance’s death had been accidental. Her words aligned with Lance’s own account of the clash, and had Shadow truly wished my sister dead, she likely would have seen to it more directly. Howe’er, ‘twas plain Mother had no desire to forgive her. In truth, I do not know if I wished to either. I was merely ... tired. Tired of all the fighting, death, and above all the war itself. The thought of hating her for a pointless accident just sharpened my weariness with the whole damned war. Hopefully tonight would finally put an end to it all.
The same applied to our brother’s death. Thunder and Flash had been foolish to challenge a foe on the level of Sunbeam Sparkle, e’en at two against one. Still, I was not so war-weary that I felt no anger o’er Thunder’s death, e’en if he brought it upon himself. “Mayhaps there will be some justice in using her daughter against her. There has been too little of that since this war began.”
“I certainly think so,” Flash snarled. “Let her feel some small measure of the pain she inflicted upon us.”
Did Flash truly think that hurting her would bring him any satisfaction? I rather doubted it. I took no pleasure at the thought of Midnight Sparkle’s cruel fate, but I had mine orders from Mother and I grasped the necessity for her commands e’en if a part of me misliked them. I would not bury my mother alongside my sister and my brother, e’en if I must sacrifice mine own conscience to save her life.
I attempted to distract myself from such dark thoughts by turning mine attention to the guards I would shortly face in battle. Unfortunately, rather than relief from my troubles, I found myself facing fresh ones as I recognized one of the guards. “Damnation.” I groaned and ran a hoof down my face. “I will deal with the mare by the door. I do not wish her slain. You and the others see to the guards.”
Flash turned to me with a curious glance, so I quickly explained. “Nimbus Kicker is with foal. I will not have a pregnant mare’s life on my head on top of everything else.” She would not thank me for it considering I had made a widow of her, but ‘twas only decent.
Flash sighed softly. “I would caution that she is still our enemy.”
“Aye, but she is expecting.” I scowled at my brother, surprised by his resistance. “Warriors of Pegasopolis do not strike down pregnant mothers. Or art thou like Swift, and have forgotten any sense of honor and decency?”
Flash tensed, baring his teeth in a furious snarl. “Mind thy words, brother. I merely point out the obvious truth that just because thou wouldst spare her does not mean that she would spare thee, and that she is not so heavy with child that ‘twill impede her in battle.”
I closed mine eyes and took a long breath, burying mine anger. “Mine apologies, the last few days have been stressful for me.” After another breath, I began to feel more settled. “She should know what her greater duty is. Just as a warrior should not strike her down, she should understand that she should step down rather than force the matter.” I paused, frowning to myself. “Though convincing her to stand down once battle is joined might be difficult. She is a widow, and I am the cause of that. She would surely attempt to avenge herself upon me given the chance, mayhaps e’en at the risk of her unborn foal.”
“Thou might be correct on that account.” Flash nodded grimly. “I expect she was most upset to learn thou wert now an ally and that she could not raise her weapons against thee. Given half the chance to seek vengeance, she will leap upon it.”
I grimaced and nodded, my wings flicking. “Nonetheless, we cannot fight her.” Attempting to subdue her nonlethally seemed a course fraught with peril. If she refused to surrender, as seemed likely, I would be hard-pressed to win a battle where I pulled my blows while she struck with her full strength.
“If I cannot fight her, we must try another way.” After a few moment’s desperate thought, I cobbled together an alternate plan. “Wait here.”
Ere Flash could ask any further questions or I could find the time to begin doubting my half-mad scheme, I left the shadows and strode openly towards the tower. Once I stood before it, I saluted crisply and smiled. “Good evening.”
Nimbus’ eyes narrowed, and her lips curled into a hateful snarl, but she retained the thinnest veneer of professionalism. “What brings you here, Dusk Charger?”
“I am here to relieve you,” I answered, keeping mine own voice as carefully polite as hers.
Nimbus met my claim with a skeptical frown. “I find that immensely unlikely. Our relief is not due for several hours, and I know for a fact that you have no part in it.”
“There has been a change of plan,” I bluffed. “I think Archmagus Sunbeam intends on testing my loyalty in a small way.” I shrugged helplessly. “Likely her tower has any number of defenses to deal with any guardian who o’ersteps, and the instant my performance is less than exemplary she will swoop in to subject me to some unspeakable fate.” With any luck, the thought of me facing some horrible torture at Sunbeam’s hooves would satisfy Nimbus enough to allay her suspicions.
Alas, luck was not with me that night. Nimbus’ scowl only deepened. “I trust you have some proof of these orders?”
Damn. Had I thought ahead I might have forged something suitable, but as it was I had desperately improvised a plan with several rather obvious holes. “The Archmagus did not give me any papers, neigh.”
Nimbus scoffed and dismissively waved her hoof. “Well then, leave and return with proper authorization. Or better yet, do not return at all. I will have words with the Archmagus regarding your actions here, and once she confirms you are lying it will end badly for you.”
Ah. This had not gone according to plan, inasmuch as I had anything worthy of being called a plan. I tried one last desperate gambit. “Now should an expecting mare be staying up in the middle of the night during such a cold evening, guarding some tower?”
Nimbus’ eyes narrowed, suspicion mingling with her anger. “I am more than capably of carrying out my duties, and certainly do not need any concern from you of all ponies. If you do not leave at once I will have you detained for the Archmagus’ pleasure.”
That settled it, then. The time for my lackluster attempts at trickery was well and truly over. Still, I could not enter battle without one last attempt to clear her from the area. “Could you please just leave this to me? I would really prefer this not to become a problem.”
Nimbus readied her blades, not quite pointing them at me but putting them in good position to strike should she need to. “And what is that supposed to mean?”
I took a deep breath, then cast aside any pretence. “I am getting into that tower one way or another, and I do not wish to harm a pregnant mare. Please, step aside. Go get more guards if you must, but do not stand in my way. For the sake of your child if nothing else.”
Flash and his forces took that as their signal, emerging from the shadows to swoop down upon the other guards. The soldiers assigned to Sunbeam’s tower were all ones who could be spared from the frontlines on account of injury or other disability, while the hetairoi were the cream of Pegasopolis and held the advantage of surprise as most of the guards had been focused entirely upon me. ‘Twas hardly an equal match.
Nimbus gave no thought to the larger battle, her attention fixed upon me. “Perfidy!” she howled, charging me with her blades bared. I quickly dodged to the side of her initial strike, but she pursued me relentlessly. Her aggression left several openings, but her attacks came so quickly that exploiting any of them might have proven difficult e’en if I intended to slay her. As it was, I saw little hope for striking a blow both strong enough to disable her yet weak enough to leave her and her foal relatively unharmed.
I scrambled back as she pressed the attack, trading space for time to maneuver and seek my chance to turn the tide. “Stop! You are going to get yourself and your foal killed!” I barely managed to block her next blow ere it would have cloven my skull in two.
“As if you had any other intention!” she snarled, bearing down on me with impressive strength. “Ere I die, I will end your miserable existence and avenge the death of the husband you murdered!”
If matters continued at their current pace she might well make good on that threat. Rather than continue attempting to match her mad strength, I opted for a different course. I shifted my spear to the side, letting her blades slip past me as I closed to within her reach, aiming to bear her to the ground and pin her down.
Howe’er, Nimbus was in no mood to accommodate my desires. Rather than attempt to withdraw and bring her blades to bear once more she met me directly, angling her shoulder as she closed so that the pauldron caught the underside of my jaw. The blow struck me hard enough to make me very glad my tongue was well away from my teeth, else I might have lost it to the dismay of mares across the world. I tumbled to the ground, my head pounding as I struggled to regain my bearings.
Nimbus closed in on me, her eyes alight with vindictive glee as she raised her blades to deliver the deathblow. Time seemed to slow as she approached, and e’en as I scrambled to bring mine own weapon to bear to block the strike, I knew ‘twas too late. The knowledge that I was about to die did not frighten me. In truth there was a part of me that almost welcomed it. An end to my suffering and the madness of this war, and the hope that where’er I found myself after death, ‘twould be better than what we had made of Equestria. At least I would be able to see Lance and Sierra once more. Thunder as well; though we had not been as close, he was still my brother.
I was about to close mine eyes and wait for the blow to fall when Nimbus froze, her eyes shifting from narrowed bloodlust to shock as her chest heaved. For a moment I wondered if she intended to deliver some final pronouncement ere she cut me down, but then the truth became horrifyingly apparent as her chest heaved once more and a gore-drenched speartip erupted from between her ribs, showering my face with blood. The fluid was hot with freshly shed life, but it cooled within a matter of seconds.
As her blades fell nervelessly to her sides I saw my brother behind her, the killing spear clutched within his hooves. “No!” I howled, as if the word could undo what I had just witnessed.
As Flash extracted his spear and the pregnant mare’s corpse fell to the ground, I hauled myself up from the ground and glowered at him. “I told you I did not want her killed!”
“So I should have let her kill thee instead?” my brother returned hotly. “Is that thou wouldst have preferred?”
“Perhaps I would have,” I snapped without thinking. I stomped hard on the ground, and for a terrible moment I was tempted to strike at mine own brother, taboos against kinslaying be damned. But what would that accomplish? Flash had only wanted to save my life, and his death would not undo Nimbus’. ‘Twould only be another pointless death in the name of vengeance, just like Nimbus’ own. When would this madness end?
I sighed and shook my head. “Let us complete the mission and be on our way. If anypony heard the fighting they will be on their way to investigate, and if not ‘twill still not be long ere they notice the guards are absent.”
Mother stepped forward, her horn glowing as she turned her new magical powers upon the tower’s front door. As she worked at bringing down the wards, I turned mine eyes outward to keep watch for any who might note our presence. Howe’er, I found mine attention constantly shifting back towards Nimbus’ cooling body despite my desire to avoid it. No matter how hard, I could not tear mine eyes away from her. O’er and o’er again I consciously looked away, only to glance back once more to her accusing dead orbs.
What could I say to that damning gaze? That I had not wished her dead? That seemed a pale thing to say when her corpse lay at my hooves. I led the attack, and ‘twas a soldier under my command who had struck her down to defend me. I might as well have thrust the spear into her breast myself.
I only escaped those grim thoughts when the tower door cracked sharply, accompanied by the sharp stench of ozone. “Quickly,” Mother called out. “The wards are down, but Sunbeam Sparkle knows they have been broken. We must be gone and well away ere she arrives.”
I wasted no time rushing into the tower, intent upon seizing the objective. Everything I had done was bad enough if the mission succeeded; if we failed, ‘twould be e’en more pointless.
My target stood upon the third floor stairs, warily looking down at the entrance with a confused frown on her young face. “I heard a noise, what is happen—Dusk Charger? Why are you here? Where is Nimbus Kicker?”
I flew up to Midnight’s side. “Come with me. We must see thee to safety.”
She took a step back from me, her eyes flicking to the side. “Did Mother send you? I do not think she would send you unless there was no other choice, as she is—”
I was not about to debate the matter. “No time to argue.” I snatched her up without a moment’s warning, tossing her o’er my back like a sack of corn.
Midnight yelped in surprise at the treatment, squirming against my grip. “Release me at once! Mother will hear of this and punish you most horribly! She will break your legs and set your limbs on fire, burning them slowly as the flesh peels away and chars from the heat, your screams echoing through the streets of Canterlot—and then she will then move up to the rest of your body, making you feel every terrible moment of your slow and inevitable death!” Despite her words I noted a faint tremor in her voice, and when the threat proved insufficient, she resorted to feebly striking at me.
I grunted as her small hooves pounded at my back. “Do not worry, thou hast my word that thou wilt not be harmed. Now stop resisting and—”
Clearly my word held little weight with her, as she continued striking at me and wriggling in an effort to free herself. “Mother?! Where are you?!”
I slowed my pace, struggling to keep hold of her. I could hardly fly while she put up such fierce resistance. E’en if she did not foul my wings, she would likely pitch herself off my back in the course of her efforts to escape. Pity I had not thought to bring enough rope to tie her up, though e’en then her magic might suffice to cause me no end of difficulty.
Then Mother stepped into the tower, and Midnight’s struggles instantly ceased. I felt her trembling on my back, and low a terrified whimper left her throat. An instant later, warm liquid begin trickling down my back.
Mother strode up to her and waved a hoof in front of her eyes. “Sleep, child.” Midnight instantly went limp, and Mother took possession of her. “Come, Dusk. We have much to do, and far too little time to see it done.”
I followed her lead, a kidnapped child in tow and dead mare lying in the shadow of the tower.
Author's Note
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Aidan Hall
Upon our return to the manor, I took possession of one of its many unoccupied rooms and stripped my armor for cleaning. Blood could rust metal just like any other liquid, and in any case a warrior should take pride in their appearance and that of their equipment. Trotting about like a blood-soaked barbarian was hardly how a warrior of Pegasopolis should conduct themself.
Howe’er, despite my best efforts it seemed I could not succeed in the task. I had thrice been o’er mine armor and helmet with a scouring cloth, yet still I found small spots of dried blood in hidden corners and seams. Likewise, mine efforts at cleaning myself seemed unable to wholly cleanse Nimbus’ blood from my coat and mane. Worse, the sharp copper scent of it lingered o’er everything, e’en hours after the battle.
I tossed my helmet away with a frustrated snarl, not caring when it tore what was surely a very fine and expensive tapestry. While Mother would have disapproved of destroying our allies’ property, such concerns were far from my mind. I did not know what I had expected at the start of this mission, but it had certainly not involved murdering a pregnant mare and stealing away a terrified young child.
Some time later, I heard a hoof tentatively tapping at the door, followed by my sister’s voice. “Brother? Art thou well?”
I groaned, burying my face in my hooves. “Dawn? What dost thou want? Unless ‘tis urgent, I would prefer that it wait until later.”
Dawn strode in despite my words, looking me over with a slight frown before picking up my helmet and carrying it back to me. “Our hosta—Midnight is well, if restless and complaining endlessly of her captivity.” She set the helmet in my lap, then settled down next to me. “It seems thou art also troubled, though I am curious as to the cause of it. By all accounts, thou wert successful in thy mission.”
‘Twas plain she would not leave until I had answered her, and in truth a part of me wanted to speak of it. The weight of all that had happened at the Archmagus’ tower sat like a leaden weight within my chest, and if telling Dawn would remove that burden... “It has not been a fair night, and our mission had certain complications I did not anticipate. Some of mine own actions and the acts of those around me do not sit well with me.” I sighed and shook my head, averting mine eyes from her. “Let us speak no more of it. I do not wish to trouble thee when thou hast so many burdens of thine own already.”
“Thy wellbeing is among the matters that trouble me,” Dawn answered, gently gripping my chin and pulling my gaze back to her. “‘Tis clear that thou art pained, and that pains me in turn. Often, speaking of one’s problems lessens them.”
I sighed and nodded as the truth spilled out. “A pregnant mare was slain when we captured Midnight. She was one of the guards watching o’er the tower, and while I attempted to remove her from the battle area or subdue her nonlethally...” I grimaced as I remembered Flash’s spear piercing her once more. “And Midnight herself, as well. It is one thing to speak of taking a noble hostage, but ‘tis another to tear a frightened child out of her home.”
Dawn embraced me, wordlessly offering what comfort she could. I was too tired to even properly return it, accepting her affection like a limp corpse. It seemed churlish, but I simply could not find the energy or will to do anything more.
My sister slowly released me, pulling back slightly and regarding me with a chirurgeon’s eye. “Thou shouldst rest, brother. I will see to thine armor, and Flash can address any other matters that might arise.”
Rest ... it seemed a fine idea, though I suspect that whene’er I slept Nimbus would haunt my dreams. “Would that I could sleep forever, or at least long enough for the war to end and take all this madness with it.”
“I know that feeling all too well,” Dawn murmured. “When we began this war we spoke of glory, honor and freedom, but now ... now I just want an end to it.” She picked up my helmet once more, setting it aside. “What is the child’s purpose here? It seems strange that Mother would risk so much, coming here personally in order to kidnap a single child. Shadow did not surrender when we held her daughter, and I rather doubt Sunbeam Sparkle is more sentimental.”
Ah, another topic I would much prefer not to discuss. Though Mother had not said anything directly, I suspected more than enough to leave me troubled. “Mother says that Midnight will help her end the war—that the child will give her the power she needs to defeat Celestia, bring down the shield, and end the siege outright.”
Dawn met my words with a skeptical frown. “Mother said that? That does not sound—mayhaps thou misheard her? I do not understand how a single young child could hold such significance.”
Ere I could answer her, a dead stallion stepped through the door. Hidden Facts smirked at the both of us. “Perhaps I could clarify?”
I blinked in shock, staring at the revenant. “Hidden? But you are...”
His smile widened until it resembled that of a dried corpse. “Yes, yes, you saw me die. Have you forgotten that I am a master of illusions? I assure you, ‘twas not the first time I allowed the world to think me dead.” (1)
1: According to Magus Corps’ records, Hidden Facts was reported dead at least three times over the course of his career. Because of this, the Magus Corps did not remove him from the list of dangerous active warlocks for more than twenty years after his confirmed death.
I frowned, trying to make sense of the deception. “Mother could not have been fooled. If she truly is the avatar of Luna’s might as you so frequently claim she would see through that deception. Nor would you be here and showing yourself so openly if she were your enemy.” For that matter, Mother had mentioned using illusion magic in order to infiltrate the city, and there were few more qualified to the task than the pony before me. Which could only mean... “Mother was complicit in the deception, then. But to what end? What did she stand to gain by pretending to execute you?” E’en as I asked the question, several possible answers occurred.
Hidden seemed to guess my thoughts, for he chuckled. “Foremost, ‘twas a useful bit of theater to more firmly win Rightly to our cause. Staging mine execution allowed the Avatar to demonstrate her commitment to his ideas of justice in a suitably dramatic fashion. And we also hoped that if Celestia’s forces heard of my death, they might not guard quite so carefully against mine illusions.”
Dawn’s eyes narrowed. “And why are you here, warlock? Why reveal yourself and tell us all that you intend?”
Hidden shrugged uncaringly. “For one, Lady Dawn, I consider myself something of a friend to your brother and thought it proper to tell him the truth.” He turned to me a with a skeletal grin. “I would apologize for the deception, but I am sure you understand my reasons after your own recent experiences infiltrating Canterlot.”
I nodded grimly. I expect that if I had known ‘twas all a deception, I would not have been able to act quite as shocked and horrified as I did when thinking ‘twas real. Not to mention whether I would have agreed to go along with the farce in the first place. The idea of lying to Rightly to make him think we had abandoned all use of dark magic did not sit well with me. Howe’er, ‘twas o’er and done with now, and I could hardly leave the city to tell him the truth.
Hidden cleared his throat. “But as I said, we are being honest now. And in the spirit of honesty, perhaps your sister should know what your mother intends for young Midnight? E’en if she has not told you the truth, I am sure you at least suspect it. You are far too canny not to.”
Dawn’s scowled at the both of us, suspicion lacing her words. “What does he mean, Dusk? What is Midnight's purpose here? Why didst thou take her from her home, if not as a hostage?”
Mine eyes fell to the floor, and the words slowly and reluctantly exited my lips. “Mother is unwell. Her transformation into the Avatar is imperfect, and will eventually end her. She said that the ... that Midnight had some sort of connection to Luna, and that using the connection would both stabilize her own transformation and enhance her abilities to the extent that she could defeat Celestia and win the war. That is why we took the child.”
“I see.” Dawn took a deep breath, then spoke slowly and carefully, each word heavy with dread for the coming answer. “And how would she make such a connection? What effect would this have on Midnight?” Her eyes flicked to Hidden Facts, and I could see that she had already guessed at the same truth I feared. “Neigh, this is—I must seek Mother. This is madness. She would ne’er do such a thing.”
“She will die if she does not,” Hidden answered. “And the war will be lost. In the face of such horrors, it seems a rather small sacrifice to make. How many will die and how much will be lost if we do nothing and accept defeat? I am sure you realize the effect your mother’s death would have upon the morale of our armies, especially when we stand at such a critical juncture. He shrugged uncaringly. “If it seems cruel, then I would say that war is often a cruel thing. I do not see why ‘tis more monstrous to make a single sacrifice than to condemn thousands of soldiers to death in battle.”
“You lie.” Dawn’s words seemed weak, as though not e’en she truly believed them. “Mother would not condone such an act, not e’en if it meant her death.” She whirled upon me. “Tell me ‘tis not true!”
I wanted to deny it. Certainly Mother had ne’er confirmed it to me. And yet ... aye, I had known the truth. For all mine excuses when Mother asked why I had failed my first task in delivering the flower, the true reason was mine own hesitation at the thought of condemning a child to such a cruel fate. And yet, with Mother looking o’er my shoulder and her condemnation ringing in my ears, I had swallowed those doubts and gone through with it.
Dawn stared at me, her jaw slowly dropping in horror as my silence gave answer to her question. “Thou knewest.” I felt a sharp impact on my cheek, jerking my head to the side. I instinctively hunched my shoulders to lessen the impact of her second slap. My sister scowled at me, then struck the worst blow yet. “Lance would be ashamed of thee.”
“Mother said nothing of a sacrifice,” I protested feebly.
“Good.” Dawn turned her back on me, marching for the door. “Then let us seek her out, that we might end this matter.”
As my sister stormed out, I shifted my gaze to the warlock. “Why?” I demanded. “Why tell us this? What do you think to gain from it?”
Hidden leaned back against the wall. “For one, I think the both of you deserved to know the truth, and far better that you fear it from me than from another. We could hardly hide my presence during the ritual preparations. Better that ‘tis done now, discussed, and set to rest. Had it come out in the heat of the moment, one of you might have done something very noble and exceedingly foolish. Now ... there will be time for acceptance ere we begin.” He paused, tilting his head back. “And perhaps I wanted you to understand the why of it: it may be that once the war is done your Mother will decide that I and my dark reputation are more a liability than an asset, and truly put an end to me. ‘Twould be quite awkward to explain to Rightly how it is that I am not actually dead. Perhaps the history books will name me a monster who might have damned our cause. If that is so, then at least one pony should know the truth of who I am and why I acted as I did.”
Doubtless he expected some answer from me, but I saw no point to giving one. Especially not when my sister was marching to confront Mother, and there was nothing to be gained by speaking further with him. Nor did I see any point in explaining to the warlock that I was not the kindred spirit he seemed to see me as. “I see. Good day, then.” I followed in my sister’s wake without another word, walking as quickly as I could without running in order to close the lead she had gained with her earlier departure.
I caught up with her just as she entered the mansion’s grand dining room, which Mother had taken o’er to serve as her temporary headquarters. The table had been cleared of any food or serving trays, instead occupied by pages upon pages of diagrams and spell formulae. Mother stood at the head of the table alongside Moonwatch, the two of them clearly in the midst of preparing for the ritual.
Dawn’s eyes briefly flicked o’er the spellwork, but doubtless she found it all as incomprehensible as I did. After a moment’s hesitation she shook her head and moved past it, going to the Avatar’s side. “Mother, I must speak with you. It cannot wait.”
“I see.” Mother set aside the formulae she had been reviewing with Moonwatch. “I assume ‘tis not some news regarding Midnight’s status. A private matter, then?”
“Aye, a private matter.” Dawn grimaced, shaking her head. “Though ‘tis regarding Midnight and what you intend for her.” Her eyes flicked to Moonwatch, and her face shifted to something ‘tween a grimace and a scowl before she dismissively waved a hoof at him. “Leave us. I will speak with my children alone.”
Moonwatch bowed to both of us. “Prince Dusk, Princess Dawn,” I found the titles as distasteful as e’er, and I am sure my sister felt the same. “With all respect, your highnesses, I have been hard at work on the details for the Conduit ceremony for the last month. I am sure I could answer any questions you have regarding the particulars.”
I put a restraining hoof on my sister’s shoulder to prevent any outburst, though ‘twas a struggle to maintain at the least the appearance of civility myself as I answered him. “Very well, explain the ceremony to us.”
Moonwatch cleared his throat and spoke to us as if he were lecturing a pair of students. “In essence, this ceremony will separate the essence of the Conduit—that is to say, the entity known as Midnight Sparkle—from her corporeal shell in order to merge it with your holy mother. In doing so, the link between the Conduit will transfer over, allowing the Avatar to fully become Divine Luna and unleash her full power.”
Dawn frowned at the warlock. “And in basic terms?”
Mother cleared her throat. “Midnight Sparkle is merely a shard of mine own being. That shard will be united with the whole once more.”
“‘Merely a shard’?” I repeated incredulously. “She is a pony, a little filly. I have spoken with her, and she seems as much a living, thinking being as any other.”
The Avatar shook her head. “I think perhaps thou dost not grasp the full details of the situation. Do not think of her as a child, for she is not one. Midnight Sparkle is an empty shell, born purely to serve as the conduit for my full strength. I arranged for her creation a decade ago to serve precisely that purpose. The sole reason for her existence is to allow me to escape my confinement and walk Equestria once more, and this ritual represents the fulfillment of her destiny. It is necessary to defeat my sister and reclaim my rightful throne.”
An empty shell? Midnight was many things, but not that. I doubt an empty shell would have such joyful fascination with her collection of pink skulls, be possessed of seemingly endless curiosity, enjoy the simple pleasures of good food, seek the approval of her elders, or any of the other things I had seen from the filly. Gale certainly would not have become so fond of her were she naught but a hollow void waiting to serve Luna’s purposes—to say nothing of Midnight’s terror when confronted by the Avatar. Neigh, the Avatar was wrong on that regard.
Or perhaps ‘twas worse than that. Perhaps the Avatar was not mistaken, but rather thought to lie to us. Hidden had once confessed that he did not know how much of my mother’s essence remained. If the Avatar would now lie to her own children to make them complicit in the murder of an innocent filly, the answer was plain. Mother would never condone such acts.
Dawn took a step back from the Avatar, her voice cooling and her posture guarded. “What would Lance say of this?”
The Avatar blinked and shook her head, then answered. “Lance would understand that we must sometimes make sacrifices for the good of all ponykind. My daughter laid down her life to free Equestria from my sister’s tyranny and help me gain my rightful throne. Now, we will finish what she began.”
Lance had done nothing of the sort. She fought because duty and honor demanded it, spent the last days of her life trying to bring an end to the war, and had died because of a simple accident. It had certainly been nothing to do with putting Mother on any sort of throne, nor would she care to be associated with the Avatar’s current plans. Mine ears slowly wilted. “Yes, sometimes we must make sacrifices. I see that now, more clearly than e’er.”
The Avatar nodded, seeming satisfied by mine answer. She turned her back on me, her attention shifting back to the formulae. “Once Equestria is free and united under my rule, there will be much work to do. We will reward those who have served us loyally, and punish those who dared defy their rightful queen. Once Equestria sees my sister’s head on a pike o’er Canterlot’s gates, with Shadow’s and Sunbeam’s flanking it, they will grasp what changes are in store. And of course, thou wilt have a valued place at my side.”
“Of course,” Dawn answered, her tone carefully neutral. “If you will excuse me, Avatar, I must attend to my duties.”
“Aye,” I agreed quickly. “I ... need to lie down for a bit. It has been a long day, and there is much that will need to be done. I should be rested and ready for it.” I hesitated for a moment, then added, “Do not worry, Mother. I understand the truth of the matter. You have my word that I will honor what you and Lance taught me.”
The Avatar smiled and nodded. “I would expect nothing less. I am glad I could put thy doubts at ease, my children.”
“Aye,” Dawn answered shortly. “I do not have any doubts now.” Without another word she turned about, leaving the room.
After my sister’s abrupt departure, I quickly worked to smooth any feathers she might have ruffled. “I think recent events have been too much for Dawn. There have been a great many surprises and too little time to absorb them all. Do not worry, Avatar, I will see to her.”
“Very well then.” The Avatar nodded dismissively, turning attention back to spell formulae ere I had e’en left the room.
I had intended to immediately seek out Dawn and have words with her, yet it seemed that despite her leaving only moments earlier she had quite eluded me. Finding her would be no easy task, as I doubted she had taken quarters somewhere within the mansion in the short time since we had arrived. Though I had one suspicion where she might have gone, I did not want it to be true.
Howe’er, as had been the case e’er since the beginning of the war, anything that I wished would not be true inevitably was. After a short time two of the hetairoi sought me out. “Sir,” the senior of the two began. “Your brother requests your presence outside the prisoner’s cell.”
“I see. My thanks.” E’en then, I hoped ‘twas but a coincidence. That Dawn could not have been so driven as to...
I shook the thoughts from my head and made my way to the makeshift prison where we held Midnight. Or rather, the prisoner. The Conduit. We seemed to be using a great many terms for her, all intended to distance ourselves from the reality of what we intended. I suppose ‘twas far more palatable to call her ‘the prisoner’ than ‘the child we kidnapped’, and certainly far easier to speak of ‘utilizing the Conduit’ than ‘butchering a young filly in a blood magic ritual.’ I suppose ‘twas some small credit to him that Hidden at least openly admitted his foul intentions rather than hiding them behind innocuous-seeming words.
I made my way to Midnight’s cell, which in truth was less a dungeon cell and more a room Pure Line used to punish servants who incurred his displeasure. Howe’er, the room had a thick door and a sturdy lock, which made it more sufficient for our purposes.
Outside the room I found exactly what I had feared: Dawn on the floor, my brother looming o’er her and pinning her limbs down. I took at least some solace in the fact that no others were present—likely the guards Flash sent with that message had been assigned to watch o’er Midnight prior to ... this.
I cleared my throat and asked a question whose answer I could already guess. “Flash, Dawn, explain thyselves. What is happening here?”
Flash turned to me, though he kept one wary eye on Dawn. “I caught her trying to free the prisoner. Our own sister turned traitor!”
I scoffed and shook my head. “What madness art thou speaking of? In all likelihood she was just looking to the child’s wellbeing, as is her duty.”
“By ordering the guards away and then attempting to pick the locks?” Flash asked incredulously. “If ‘twas her duty, she would have the key and orders from Mother. Neigh, brother, there is no mistaking her intentions.”
I might have made an effort to concoct a plausible excuse for her actions, though ‘twould have been no easy task, but Dawn herself abandoned any pretense of innocence. “Midnight Sparkle is a child, Flash!” She turned her head to face me as best she could whilst pinned to the floor. “Tell him, Dusk—tell him that she is to be murdered by that Unicornian creature!”
Flash’s eyes narrowed, and his grip upon her tightened. “I know the Conduit’s purpose, sister. Do not forget that I served as Captain of the Hetairoi in Dusk’s absence. Without the Conduit the war will drag on far longer, and Mother will be consumed by Luna’s power. A growl entered his voice. “Wouldst thou murder our own mother for the sake of a unicorn brat? For the child of the mare who murdered our brother?”
Dawn did her best to glare defiantly at him. “Mother would ne’er murder a child to save her life, regardless of whose child ‘twas! That thing the warlocks created is not our mother!”
Flash snarled and smacked the back of her head. “Be silent! Were it not for the magi sworn to our cause, Mother would have died to Shadow’s treachery just as Lance did. They saved our Mother—neigh, raised her to new heights of majesty! She will o’erthrow Celestia herself.”
“She will damn us all,” Dawn hissed back. “Or art thou so blinded by the fact that ‘twas thee who delivered her into the warlock’s hooves that thou cannot see the truth?! Will thy pride not allow thee to see the abomination thou hast made of our mother?!”
Flash slammed her hard against the floor, driving the wind from her lungs in a pained gasp, and I sprang into action. I would not allow anyone, not e’en mine own brother, to handle my sister so roughly. I shoved hard into his shoulders, forcing him away from Dawn ere he could harm her any further.
As Dawn hastily rolled away from the battle, I ducked my shoulder and slammed it into Flash’s chest, driving him back and pinning him against the wall. “Hast thou gone mad?! She is our sister!”
Flash grunted in pain as his back slammed into the wall. “She was our sister! Now she is naught but a traitor to Pegasopolis and her clan who would murder her own mother!” His eyes flicked to our sister, groaning on the ground as she massaged her abused joints. “I do not know thee, Dawn Cumulus!”
I pulled Flash back from the wall, intending to slam him hard against it once more as punishment for his words. Howe’er, he seized the brief opening and hammered a blow into my ribs, forcing the air from my lungs in a pained gasp. He quickly stepped to the side, buying himself space to maneuver. “Stand down, brother,” he cautioned, glaring at me. “I will forgive this, but if thou dost fight any further for a traitor’s sake, thou wilt join her in her crimes.”
Mine eyes narrowed as I closed in on him. “If I must serve the Avatar to remain part of this clan, then I shall wear the name Cumulus as a badge of honor.”
Flash jabbed to ward me off, but I easily sidestepped it. Perhaps enraged by his failure, he o’ercommitted to his next blow. I caught his o’erextended hoof, then pulled him forward while stepping in to plant a knee into his ribs. Flash let out a pained wheeze, and I followed up by slamming my helmet crest into his unprotected face, sending him staggering back as blood sprayed from his broken nose.
Flash nearly fell to the ground, and I continued advancing upon him. In hindsight, I should have contented myself with the harms I had already inflicted upon him. Howe’er, ‘tween his harsh words and the bruises he had left upon Dawn I was in no mood to show mercy. This was no mere brotherly scuffle; I wanted to hurt him. Both for his own actions, and simply to unleash some of mine own frustration at all I had suffered, and all I would lose for my choice to support my sister o’er the abomination my mother had become.
Rather than leave my brother down on the floor and flee for my life, I hauled him back to his hooves, only to strike him down again with a frustrated roar. I dragged him back up, intent upon repeating the process, and in my rage I was too slow to notice the fear in his eyes or the glint of steel in his hoof.
I only realized my mistake as a line of cold fire sliced across my cheek, missing mine eye by the narrowest of margins. I leapt back in shock at my brother’s bared steel, but an instant later mine own instincts and training demanded I answer his challenge in kind. I unlimbered my spear, leveling it at mine own brother’s chest.
Dawn stared between the two of us, her jaw dropping in horror. “Stay this madness! Thou art brothers!”
I would have done so, but an instant later Flash closed with me, trying to move within my weapon’s reach. I instinctively stepped back and warded him off with a jab of my spear, the tip scraping against his armored breastplate. E’en if I had wished to withdraw or lay down mine arms, ‘twas too dangerous to do so at this point. Flash’s blood was up, and he might well strike at any opening I presented ere he grasped mine intent.
Flash tried to close with me once more, turning to face me with the thickest part of his armor to deflect any strike I might make. Howe’er, there was a flaw in my brother’s tactics: he concerned himself so much with avoiding the tip of my spear that he forgot about the rest of the weapon. Rather than try to ward him off with another jab I let him close, then caught him alongside the helmet with the shaft. The blow was not especially hard, but it rattled him long enough for a better opening. I whirled my spear and struck him under the jaw with its weighted butt, catching him a blow that snapped his head back and sent him tumbling to the ground.
As mine opponent fell to the ground, I righted my spear and readied the next logical blow in the sequence: a thrust into his throat to finish the matter. Howe’er, despite the fury coursing through my veins, as I stared down at my beaten foe my spear froze in my grasp. Flash might be a fool who chose loyalty to a twisted mockery of our mother o’er his own sister, but he was still my brother. I could not more kill him than I could cut off mine own right leg.
My hesitation undid me, for Flash could not know what thoughts passed through my mind in the heat of battle. All he saw was an enemy poised to deliver the killing blow, and he reacted as any would. He desperately lashed out with his blade, and I was ill-prepared to block it. Despite my best effort to dodge or at least mitigate it, his steel bit deep into my neck.
I staggered back, a hoof instinctively moving to assess my wound. Flash wasted no time swatting the spear out of my weakened grasp, and as he closed in on me I saw no hesitation in his eyes. Mine own brother intended to strike me down, and I could not hope he would hesitate as I did.
Ere he could strike, I saw movement out the corner of mine eyes as Dawn closed in behind him with a dagger of her own. She struck with a chirurgeon’s precision, slashing his foreleg and sending Flash’s weapon tumbling to the floor as his limb suddenly refused to respond to his commands. She followed by kicking his ankle, breaking one of the sensitive bones within and leaving him down and helpless on the floor.
Flash lay on the floor, groaning in pain and vainly struggling to right himself. Dawn kicked away his weapon and quickly searched him for anything else, then took his uninjured hoof and placed it against his knife wound. “Hold pressure here and do not move, else thou wilt aggravate the wound or worsen the injury to thy leg. I will see to thee once I ensure that Dusk is well.” She paused a moment, then grabbed several of his feathers and roughly pulled them from his wing. “Lest thou wouldst think to take flight ere I see to thy wounds, brother.”
Flash groaned and glared at her, but did as she demanded.
Once she was satisfied he would continue to obey, Dawn shifted her attention to me. “Be still and remove thy hoof, so that I might see to thy wound.” I shifted my grip, hissing in pain as air washed over my wound. Dawn scowled at it, scrutinizing it and gently touching around it several times. “For once, luck is with us. The zealous idiot nearly sent thee to Lance’s side, but it seems he managed to miss anything vital by the barest of margins.”
I winced as she rummaged through her saddlebags for whate’er medical supplies she had on hoof. “Dawn, we must leave at once. When—”
“We will do nothing until I have bound thy wound, and our brother’s,” Dawn interrupted me. “Didst thou not hear me say how perilous thine injury is? I will not have thee gallivanting about Canterlot with an open wound that could kill thee with a single ill-chosen movement. Now be still and let me finish, for the sooner I am done...”
I knew there was no hope of dissuading her, and in any case I saw no reason to go against a chirurgeon’s advice. While there was precious little in this life I truly loved, I had no wish to die, especially in such an easily preventable manner. Howe’er... “Dawn, once the Avatar learns that thou hast tried to free Midnight...” Mine eyes nervously flicked down the hallways. ‘Twas fortunate Flash had sent the hetairoi guarding Midnight away to resolve the family matter in private, but ‘twas likely they would soon return. Let alone what might happen if the Avatar herself learned of the disturbance.
Dawn sighed and reluctantly nodded. “Aye, we must flee. I do not think Flash lied when he said the Avatar holds the only key to Midnight’s prison, and e’en if I could break down the door, ‘twould be too loud to go unnoticed. Not to mention the warlocks might have...” She trailed off, scowling and shaking her head. “‘Twas foolish to think I could free her so easily when she is central to the Avatar’s plans. We must depart the city as soon as thou art mended enough to fly. Ephors Rightly and Steel must hear the truth of the matter, they will believe us.”
I winced as she applied a particularly unpleasant ointment to my neck, though I presumed the sharp, warm tingling sensation it produced was a sign of its effectiveness. “Dawn, the Ephors are outside the city and past the walls. E’en if we manage to make it past Celestia’s forces and reach them, they would have to breach the city ere they could do anything to stop the Avatar.”
“We must,” Dawn insisted as she began wrapping a bandage about my neck to hold the poultice in place. “There is no other choice if we are to stop this atrocity.”
At her prompting I took a breath to ensure the bandage was not too tight, then slowly met her eyes. “Dawn, surely thou knowest that if we would stop the Avatar, our best hope for success is to go to the forces already within the city.”
Dawn stared at me incredulously. “And tell them what, brother? When they learn of thy perfidy they will surely put thee to death, and likely me as well. And why should they believe thy warning mere moments after thy confession of lying to them for the past several weeks?”
She was not wrong on either count, but... “If that is the way it ends, then so be it. But I think I would rather die doing all within my power to save the child than live knowing that she perished through my inaction.”
Dawn put the final touches on my bandage, then sighed. “I am afraid thou art right on the matter, much as I dislike it. So be it, then; we shall warn Gale, Shadow, Celestia, or whome’er we must as soon as our business here is concluded. Thou wilt live, so all that remains is to see to Flash.” She turned to treat him.
Howe’er, our brother was no longer there. All that remained of him was a trail of rapidly drying blood, leading down the hallway. Clearly, he had used Dawn’s focus upon my injuries to flee and warn the Avatar.
Mine eyes widened as the implications of his absence struck home, and I desperately clung to Dawn’s leg. “We must leave at once.”
Dawn shook me off with an annoyed growl. “That idiot...” She began stalking down the hallway, shaking her head. “I said to hold pressure and not move!”
“Dawn!” I tried to restrain her once more. “He runs to the Avatar. Once she learns what has happened, she will kill the both of us and any hope of saving Midnight will be gone. We must be far from this place ere she learns what we did.”
“He is injured!” Dawn protested.
“But still our enemy,” I countered. “As soon as thou art done aiding him, he will work to bring about our doom. And in any case, the Avatar can likely heal his wounds far better than thee.”
“And let her warlocks work the same foul alchemy upon him that they used to warp our mother?!” Dawn shook me off once more, storming down the hallway. “Neigh, I will not have it.”
As I would be hard-pressed to drag her forcefully from the manor e’en without any wounds, I had little choice but to follow behind her. And despite all my protests and the violence that had passed ‘tween us, I could not deny that a part of me worried after our brother’s wellbeing. E’en after we had nearly slain one another, we were still family.
Flash had not made it to the Avatar, or e’en near her. We found him but a short distance away, lying in a shallow pool of his own blood.
“No,” Dawn gasped, shaking her head. She rushed to his side, rolling him onto his back and clamping her hooves down upon his wound as soon as ‘twas visible. “Flash thou idiot, I told thee to remain until I had seen to thee!”
Our brother offered no response. His blank eyes staring sightlessly up at the ceiling as his pale, limp body remained motionless, save for Dawn’s efforts.
Dawn blinked in shock, then shook her head and redoubled her efforts, frantically bandaging his wound despite the fact that only the barest trickle of blood was still leaving it. I slowly placed a hoof on her shoulder and tried to gently pull her away. “Dawn, he’s...”
Dawn ignored both my hoof and my words, continuing to work upon him. “I need more supplies, my potion bag, sutures—Dusk, stop standing about and help me save him!”
I grabbed her shoulder and shook her. “He is beyond thine aid, Dawn!”
“No!” She struggled against my grip, her eyes shifting back to our brother. “No, he is ... if I can just ... I just need to...” Her shoulders slowly slumped down as she could no longer deny the truth. “Neigh, that is not ... he cannot be...”
I began to pull her away, struggling against the tears I so dearly wished to shed, but knew I had no time for it. We could hardly stop to mourn our brother when the Avatar might be upon us at any moment. Mine eyes lingered upon Flash one last time, then turned away as I started for the entrance. Ere I was halfway, I realized I was alone. Dawn remained beside our brother’s body.
“Sister.” I whispered. “We must go.”
Dawn did not answer. She stared at Flash in silence, and did not respond when I shook her shoulder. I struggled for the words to reach her—to say something to her, if only so that she would look away. Finally, I took Dawn’s hoof in mine own and guided her away. For the briefest moment she resisted, but she had no will to do more than that.
She followed in silence as I led her into the night.
Author's Note
As always, thanks to my pre-reading and editing team for all their hard work. Also, I would like to thank all my dedicated Patreon supporters. You guys are awesome.
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Aidan Hall
Our night’s rest came to an abrupt end when Sunbeam’s wards alerted her to the attack on her tower. White rushed in upon hearing the commotion, wisely making no comment upon finding Sunbeam in my bed. In any case, there were far more important matters at hoof.
We made all haste to the tower, but arrived far too late. My clanponies lay upon the ground, their lifesblood soaking the cobblestones. Nimbus was among them, her chest rent open and her body already cold. I strode to her body, gently closing her eyes.
‘Twas a cruel irony. I had placed her here to keep her away from the battlefield so that she might serve out the war and live to bear her child and raise a family. Now, it seemed she would have been far safer manning the walls. Checking her body had left blood on my hooves, and I could not help but feel that ‘twas there in the more metaphorical sense as well.
I thought back to the last I had spoken to the young mare. The hard questions she had posed to me about both the war and the clan itself. What benefit did this war offer to my clan? What could they hope to win that would justify all this death and suffering? What justice could I offer the war’s victims, and how would I avenge our fallen?
I took a deep breath. “I will show thee, Nimbus. I will show thee how our clan punishes those who dare stand ‘gainst us. I shall avenge thee, or die in the effort.”
Sunbeam stormed out of her tower, her eyes a pair of emerald flames. “Midnight is not here. They have taken her.” For a moment I saw Sunbeam as I had ne’er seen her before. Her eyes were wide, and I could see raw terror and pain within them. “They have my daughter.” The words were spoken plainly, but I could hear the pain hidden beneath them.
Ere I could think of anything that might comfort her, Sunbeam’s teeth clenched, and her next words came out as a feral snarl. “The fool who has taken my daughter is going to burn. Not quickly, no, they will beg me for the sweet release of death for many days ere I finally grant them that kindness. All of Equestria shall tremble when it hears of the terrible vengeance I shall wreak upon those who dared to lay a single hoof upon my child!”
“Aye. There shall be a reckoning for this.” Mine eyes fell once more to Nimbus, and I noted that the blow which felled her had come from behind. “Is there any hint of who might have committed the attack, or where they are now?”
“We both know ‘twas the Nightmare’s doing,” Sunbeam growled. “The only question is whether she managed to get her forces into the city, or we were betrayed from within.”
“More likely the latter.” I frowned and shook my head. “If the rebels had the means to bypass our defenses, they would not have revealed it until it could win the war for them. I know Midnight is a goal of the Avatar’s, but I would think she would not tip her hoof until Rightly had enough forces in place to break our defenses entirely. Our gates and walls would fall all too easily to an attack from behind, and she would be a fool to waste the opportunity.”
Sunbeam grunted and nodded. “Most likely traitors then.” She pointedly looked o’er the fallen. “None of their bodies are among the dead. Whoever did this wanted their identities to remain hidden. I think the rebels would have left their own fallen. We would already suspect them, and proof that they could bypass our lines would put us in a frenzy trying to find out how they had done it.”
I scowled, but could not find anything to dispute her conclusion. “Whate’er the catspaw she used, this was most assuredly the work of the Avatar. I can see no other reason to launch such a brazen attack on thy tower for seemingly no gain other than taking Midnight prisoner. Rightly would have saved his hidden strike until he could cripple our defenses and finish this war.”
Sunbeam’s teeth clenched. “I know. We must find her. Immediately. The Avatar...” There was a very brief catch in Sunbeam’s voice, “The Avatar likely intends to destroy her to enhance its own power. Either by sacrifice, or by possessing her body directly.” Sunbeam whirled about, marching towards her tower. “I keep samples of my daughter’s hair, blood, and other materials for a tracking spell on hoof. ‘Tis likely futile, but...”
She entered the tower without another word. Having only recently retrieved mine own daughter, I could guess at her unfinished thoughts all too easily. When it had been Gale in peril, I would have taken any opportunity I could to free her from the Avatar’s clutches, howe’er slim.
I watched Sunbeam begin the preparations for her spell, but soon enough it became plain that there was little I could do to aid her. I understood more about the working of magic than most who could not wield such forces, but I was still a rank amateur compared to the likes of Sunbeam Sparkle. In any case, I had soldiers to command, and ‘twas possible that some clue to Midnight’s location could be found by more mundane means.
Upon exiting the tower I found a fresh horror awaiting me. My squire had arrived along with a force of my clanponies, only to find Nimbus’ body. She was on her knees next to the corpse, openly sobbing. “No, no, no, no. It c-c-cannot be! Y-you were supposed to be safe. Nothing was supposed to happen here!”
There were no words I could offer that would take away her pain. I stepped to her side, I silently placed a hoof on her shoulder. She jerked in surprise at the contact but stilled a moment later, slowly turning her gaze up to me. I will ne’er forget the expression on her face, the sheer agony within her eyes. “S-s-she's, she's...”
“I know.” I stepped closer to her. “This was not supposed to happen. I sent her here to keep her safe, and instead I sent her to her doom.”
“My brother, and now my sister-in-law and her unborn child.” She shook her head, wiping away her tears. “It is not your fault, Lady Shadow. You tried to keep her safe, it is the enemy who murdered her. Is there no end to the evil of these—these monsters?! Cutting down a pregnant mare...” Her eyes flicked to the wound on Nimbus’ back. “And treacherously. E’en heavy with foal, Nimbus would slay many if they faced her fairly.”
She sighed, her entire body deflating as she stared down at the dead mare. “How much more must I lose before this is over? Now there is nothing left of my brother.”
“There is still something. So long as he lives on in thy heart, he is not lost.” E’en as I spoke them I knew the words would seem hollow to the young mare freshly mourning the slain, but what else could I say? No mere words could fill the hole left behind by her brother’s death.
“It is precious little right now.” She slowly turned her back on Nimbus, sniffling and once more wiping the tears from her eyes. This time, no more replaced them. When she spoke the pain was still raw in her voice, but she at least attempted to hide it and play the part of a soldier. “The enemy must have attacked suddenly. Before an alarm could be raised.”
“Aye, most likely.” I had already concluded as much, but saw no reason to stop her. Perhaps White’s mind would grasp upon a fact that had eluded me.
“Nimbus was struck from behind.” White paused a moment, closing her eyes to compose herself ere she continued. “It seems likely she did not e’en know her attacker was there until the blow fell. Most of the guards do not even have blood on their weapons. Unless they were wholly outclassed by their attackers, they did not have time to defend themselves.”
I grimaced and nodded. “Whoever conducted this strike had to be incredibly skilled to coordinate the ambush of an entire squad so perfectly.” My face darkened as the other possible explanation sprang to mind. “Or been trusted enough that they could draw close before striking.”
White nodded, wiping her nose and taking up her halberd. “Treason, then ... aye, that seems entirely too likely. Nimbus and her soldiers were too good to miss the approach of a large ambush force, or to fall without sounding the alarm. Far more likely that whoe’er it was that struck the blow was known to them and allowed to approach to within striking distance.”
It seemed White was in accord with mine own thoughts on the matter. If there were traitors within our midst, the next question was an obvious one: who might they be? Two suspects immediately sprang to mind. “Dost thou know where Dusk and Dawn Charger might be found?”
White’s countenance darkened at the mention of Bright’s children. “Are they not being hosted in the palace?”
“They are,” I confirmed, “But I would have them before me now. I would also like assurances that their whereabouts for the last several hours can be fully accounted for.”
White’s eyes narrowed. “You think they are behind this?”
“Two ponies could not manage this on their own,” I demurred. “I merely wish to know if they can be accounted for.”
White nodded sharply. “Then I recommend sending a pair of your fastest warriors to the palace to secure them.” she scowled and added under her breath. “If they can be secured, that is.”
“See to it,” I ordered.
White saluted crisply. “I shall do so, my lady.”
After White’s departure, I o’ersaw the care of our fallen. I had sent them all to their doom with this assignment, and ensuring their bodies were honorably buried was the least I could do.
No. Not the least. There was one more thing I could do, that I must do. I would avenge them.
As I finished my task, Sunbeam stormed out of her tower. The snarl on her lips and the fact that she came to me rather than making haste elsewhere told me how successful her efforts had been e’en before she spoke. “It is no use. Whoe’er has taken Midnight has strength enough to hide her from my sight. E’en with all my power and blood samples to enhance my spells, I could learn nothing. I am sure thou canst grasp what that means.”
“The Avatar has her,” I concluded.
Sunbeam nodded grimly. “Only an alicorn’s strength could deny me so utterly. Against any mortal magus, I would at least have gained something from mine efforts. Her agents have somehow entered the city, or possibly e’en the monster herself,.”
“We shall begin a search at once,” I assured her. “There are only so many places she could hide.”
“Aye, and yet far too many.” She scowled and shook her head. “Every soldier searching the city is one not manning the walls. They would need to search in force, for the Avatar could easily o’erwhelm an isolated patrol. If we pull enough strength from our defenses for a proper hunt, ‘twill give Rightly the perfect chance to break us.” She sighed. “And that presumes she is e’en still within Canterlot. If she found her way within our defenses, it is entirely possible she could leave as well.”
“And if thy fears regarding her connection to thy child are true...” I grimaced at the unpleasant conclusion. “We have little time to find her.”
Sunbeam trembled, and I saw another flash of terror in her eyes before fury subsumed it. “Aye, it seems likely the worst is true. If ‘twere not, why would the Avatar risk personally coming to Canterlot?” She began marching down the street, headed directly for the palace. “Perhaps Her Majesty will know success where I failed, and can match her strength ‘gainst the Avatar’s. A thin hope, but better than none. Mayhaps one of mine agents within the city has seen something that could help us find find the Avatar or her agents as well. I certainly do not intend to sit about wringing my hooves while my daughter needs me.”
“Then let us waste no time.”
We made all haste to the palace, but ere we arrived at the Commander’s throne room we came across my squire clapping Dusk and Dawn Charger in irons. T’was perhaps a touch more zealous than I had intended for ponies who were still entitled to the rights of guests and allies, but considering her recent losses I could not fault my squire for her actions. “I see thou hast found them. Well done, White.”
White finished attaching the manacles to Dusk, then turned about and crisply saluted me. “My lady, I was planning to inform you of such as soon as I finished securing them.”
I nodded to her, then gave Dusk and Dawn my full attention. “Account for thyselves and thy whereabouts for the last day.”
Dawn began to open her mouth, but hesitated and looked to her brother. After a long enough pause to make me suspicious, he finally answered. “I was walking about the city when I was contacted by one of the Avatar's agents. It seems that sympathizers within the city allowed her entry, and she is currently hiding within Duke Line’s manor. My brother attempted to persuade us to rejoin her, and when we refused to do so it led to violence.” His shoulders slumped. “I ... I was forced to defend myself. My brother is dead.”
White’s eyes narrowed. “Ah, so thou art a kinslayer now atop all thine other crimes? Assuming thou art not merely lying to us.”
“I am not.” Dusk insisted. “Call me an accursed kinslayer and a traitor if you must. I have earned those titles and worse. Throw me in the dungeons, e’en. I only ask that you spare my sister. You will need her skills, and she is innocent of any wrongdoing.”
Dawn frowned at him. “Dusk, ‘twas I who—”
“My sister,” Dusk quickly cut her off, “has done nothing wrong. Punish me howe’er you think fitting, I am guilty of enough, and of little use to you. Dawn is innocent, and a chirurgeon who could save many lives.”
“Right now I care not which of thee is guilty of what,” I growled out. “The both of thee are for the dungeons until we can verify your claims. You say the Avatar is hiding within Lord Line’s mansion? What of Midnight Sparkle? Is she there as well?”
Dusk hesitated again. “I expect she is there, then. The Avatar expressed some interest in her, and I cannot imagine it is a coincidence that—”
“She is there,” Dawn cut in. “We both saw her with our own eyes. The Avatar intends to sacrifice her as part of some dark ritual.”
Sunbeam snatched Dawn’s chain, savagely yanking her forward. “And how is it that you know that? Thy brother claimed you merely met a messenger.”
Dusk bit his lip. “They ... Flash told us that—”
“Do not.” Dawn was limp in her chains. “Brother, surely you cannot think them so brainless as to believe such transparent lies. E’en if ‘twere the truth, they would likely hang us on principle. As it stands ... aye, we have earned that.”
“No,” Dusk grimaced and shook his head. “I have. I led the attack on your tower, Archmagus. Dawn played no part in it. She—”
“I do not care if she is innocent,” Sunbeam snarled. “Thy desperate attempts to defend her just make me want to kill her for the pain ‘twould cause thee.” She turned to White and nodded. “Take them to the dungeons for now. I will want a few days to come up with something suitably gruesome for their executions.”
“Why tell us this?” I demanded. “Thou hast confessed to perfidy, and thy lives are forfeit. Why tell us this rather than remain with the Avatar?”
“The Avatar hid her intentions for Midnight,” Dawn murmured. “’Twas not until after her capture that I learned of her plans to sacrifice her. Had I known...” She grimaced and shook her head. “It matters not what I might have done, only what I did. Hang us if you wish, but that is the truth.”
“A request I am sure we will be more than willing to accommodate,” White snarled. She turned to us, scowling. “I trust I do not need to warn you that this might be a trap?”
“It might,” I agreed, “But we cannot afford to ignore it. His account may indeed be genuine.” ‘Twould certainly be a dangerous plan to confess to crimes deserving of summary execution merely to feed us a bit of misinformation.
Sunbeam grunted and nodded. “If it is an ambush, then there is still a substantial rebel force within our walls—one that will grant us the opportunity to capture prisoners who should know where the Avatar really is. They will tell us everything they know ere I finish with them.”
White saluted crisply. “Shall I inform the Guard to ready whate’er forces they can spare to march on Duke Line’s mansion?”
“Aye. Then see to the prisoners.” I would have gone into further detail about our deployment, but I noted that Sunbeam was already walking away. “Sunbeam, wait for—”
“I will not!” she snapped, not e’en breaking stride or turning her back on me. “I will not wait while those monsters hold my child. I am going to Duke Line’s mansion. Now. Keep up, or be left behind.”
My first instinct was to reason with her, but I knew full well that a mother whose child was in peril could not always be reasoned with. “White, spread the word for our forces to move quickly, and meet us en-route to the mansion.”
Just giving those hasty orders gave Sunbeam time to make it halfway down the street, and I wasted no time catching up with her.
Thankfully, White was able to scramble a few squads of my clanponies ere we arrived at Line’s manor. We all remained behind or to the side of Sunbeam herself as we advanced. I did not think it wise to place any of my forces between Sunbeam and her objective.
The wisdom of that was amply demonstrated when we arrived at the front gates of the Duke’s manor, and two seconds later Sunbeam strode o’er the molten remnants of said gate.
Duke Pure Line rushed out the front doors to meet us—judging by his half-dressed state, we had caught him by surprise. Sweat poured down his cheeks, and even from halfway across the courtyard he stank of fear. A few moments later his son exited behind him, looking only slightly more dignified. “A-Archmagus Sparkle! Lady Protector Shadow! What an unexpected honor. How might I be of serv—”
“Where is my daughter?” Sunbeam’s voice seemed deceptively calm, her rage confined to her blazing eyes for the moment.
“Y-your daughter?” Pure swallowed nervously, his eyes darting to the side. “I am afraid I have no idea where she could possibly—”
There was a bright flash of light, and a sudden wave of heat. When the light faded, there was nothing left of the duke save a shadow ‘gainst the wall.
Sunbeam turned to his son. “Where is my daughter?”
Proud whimpered, and my nostrils flared as I caught the stench of fresh urine. “Sh-she’s in the basement, one of the storage cupboards we use for—”
“Thank you.” Another flash followed, and Proud joined his father in oblivion. Her eyes flicked to the Duke’s guards, and while she said nothing magic continued swirling about her. The soldiers divested themselves of weapons with impressive alacrity, rushing towards the relative safety of mine unit.
While my soldiers took them into custody, Sunbeam continued forward. In hindsight, I should have realized that she was far too o’erwrought to think tactically. I suppose I had become too accustomed to her cold, analytical mood. Normally, she would have noticed that my forces were occupied with the prisoners and would have waited until we were finished before moving into the manor itself. Howe’er, with her daughter in mortal peril and rage burning in her heart, she spared no thought for battlefield tactics, charging into the manor well before any of us were ready to accompany her.
I set about securing the surrendered traitors as quickly as possible so that we could move forward to support her. Most of them offered no resistance, their spirits utterly crushed by Sunbeam’s show of power. Howe’er, I noted one of the guards standing near the front door, trembling. At first I assumed him merely shaken by Sunbeam’s brutality, but as I approached to drag him to towards the rest of my forces I noticed blood dripping from his nose. Yet he bore no obvious wounds.
I knew the warning signs of dark sorcery being afoot, but before I could call out a warning to my soldiers a tremor passed through the air itself, bringing a carrion stench to my nostrils. Every other pony staggered back as though struck, and many of them began bleeding from the nose as well. The one prisoner who had been too close to the doorway shrieked in pain, blood now trickling from the corners of his eyes and down his ears as well.
A crackling field of electricity sprang across the doorway, barring the entrance Sunbeam had used to infiltrate the manor. A quick glance to the nearby windows confirmed that they were similarly blocked by the spell.
Damnation. Sunbeam was in there all alone, and a conjuring of this sort could only be the work of the Avatar, or at least several powerful and highly skilled warlocks. Sunbeam herself was in mortal peril, and if they could keep this field up until they finished whate’er cruelties they planned to inflict upon young Midnight...
Mine armor’s defenses would likely be sufficient to penetrate the barrier, but ‘twas still more prudent to wait. If the Commander was not on her way already, she would be soon enough. Her strength would shatter the enemy defences and allow our full forces entry. Sunbeam might well die in the interim, but perhaps not. E’en outnumbered and outmatched, she was a resourceful mare and almost madly determined to protect her daughter from harm. If anypony could survive in such poor circumstances, ‘twas she.
Howe’er, waiting outside while Sunbeam was in danger sat ill with me. She was my comrade in arms, to say nothing of what had passed ‘tween us earlier this night. I could not abandon her, and while she might be able to survive without my help, her odds were certainly much better if I was fighting at her side.
I glanced back to my soldiers, who seemed to have recovered from the worst of the spell’s effects. “Try to find another way inside, they might not have blocked every entrance. Send a messenger for more magi, more soldiers, the Commander, and whate’er else we can spare. If the Avatar herself is not here, then her strongest and most dangerous agents are.”
With that settled, I turned to the barrier and charged through, ducking my head so that my helmet would protect my face. The energy barrier crackled and hissed in protest as I forced my way through it, and while mine armor grew a bit warmer as I pushed through I had no difficulty penetrating the manor’s defenses.
Upon emerging into the foyer I saw several ponies of the hetairoi in the midst of hastily deploying to defend the entrance, tearing down tapestries and o’erturning tables for makeshift barriers. Mine armor hummed with the energy it had absorbed while penetrating the defenses, and now I had a perfect target to unleash that power upon. With an extended hoof and an effort of will, I lashed out at them. Midnight blue branches of crackling energy erupted from mine armor, setting the enemy pegasi ablaze even as the force of mine attack shredded them to pieces.
For the briefest of moments, I understood what it must feel like to be a war magus like Sunbeam. Wielding such power could be a truly intoxicating experience.
For a long moment, there were no sounds in the foyer save for the crackling of the barrier behind me and the last spasmodic twitches of the slain hetairoi . The smell of charred flesh, both from Sunbeam’s dramatic entrance and mine own efforts assaulted my nostrils, and I quickly searched for any sign of which direction the magus had gone.
It did not take long to find the staircase leading down the basement with the charred remnant of hetairoi armor to one side and a warlock impaled upon an icy spear to the other. Howe’er, as I prepared to descend the stairs an inky blue cloud drifted up from a crack within the stonework, quickly solidifying and taking the shape of the Avatar.
The thing that had once been Bright Charger bared her fangs in a twisted smile. “Ah, Shadow. Such a pleasure to see you again. I only expected to catch Sunbeam with this little trap, but I do appreciate you being accommodating enough to leap into it alongside her. It seems a pity to leave Sunbeam’s death to my minions, but as much as I desire to spill her blood personally, I want yours e’en more.”
“Perhaps Sunbeam will be good enough to cut down your pet warlocks,” I answered coldly. “You above all others should appreciate the wrath of a mother whose child is in danger.”
The Avatar scoffed and shook her head. “You truly are a fool if you think Sunbeam has any feelings for Midnight. A mother’s wrath? From her? The only thing I feared is that she would kill my conduit before I could rescue it from her grasp. I expect Celestia refused to allow it, else she surely would have done so to foil my restoration.”
“Your restoration.” Mine eyes narrowed. “Is what I have been told true, then? Do your plans now involve murdering children? I knew you had fallen from grace when you became the Avatar, but I did not think you could sink so low.”
“Spare me your self-righteous posturing.” The Avatar drew herself up to her full height, conjuring up a lance from the aether. “I have come to kill you, avenge my murdered children and throw down my sister the usurper. This child that you speak of is nothing of the sort. She is no more a pony than one of my discarded feathers or a lock of hair cut from my mane. Midnight is nothing but a fraction of my power separated as part of a failed scheme, and now I shall reunite that part with the whole. ‘Tis no more murder than suturing a wound.”
“You are wrong.” I readied my blades. “That may have been what you intended for her, but Midnight has grown far beyond that. She has as much right to live as any other pony.”
“You are a fool, speaking from ignorance and blinded by your loyalty to my usurper sister,” the Avatar countered. “I suppose ‘tis far easier to tell yourself that I am some foul monster than it is to admit that I seek my rightful throne, and vengeance for the victims of your crimes. Midnight is the instrument of my justice, and your doom. Sunbeam’s machinations change nothing.”
What struck me most about the Avatar’s words was not what she said, but the manner in which she spoke. Bright had always been a mare of passion, driven to do what she believed right. The mare I had known would ne’er speak so coldly of killing a child, and e’en after all that had passed I could not believe that she had so utterly abandoned honor and decency. “Bright ... you became what you are now to avenge your daughter. How did it come to pass that you are stealing away and murdering another mare's child?”
“You dare ask me that?!” the Avatar snarled, almost advancing upon me ere she remembered herself. “E’en if Midnight were a true child rather than what she is, she would be the child of mine enemy, one of the most vile mares to e’er walk the face of Equestria. Sunbeam Sparkle murdered my Thunder—many would call it justice for me to inflict the same pain upon her. Neigh, my pain is still far beyond anything she could conceive of. Her dark heart cannot possibly love, while there was nothing in this world dearer to me than my children.”
“If you love them so much, then why have two of your children abandoned you because of how far you have fallen?” I demanded.
“An obvious lie,” the Avatar snapped.
“Is it?” I met her glare levelly. “How do you think we knew where you were hiding?”
“LIAR!” Bright roared, the walls shaking from her magically enhanced voice. “One of your spies within the manor must have told you. I know Gale and Sunbeam both keep their networks of hidden agents. One of them murdered my Flash, and kidnapped my Dusk and Dawn.”
“You truly believe that?” I shot back. “You think that a single spy could somehow kill one of your children, kidnap two others and escape unnoticed by your own forces? If we had such skilled agents, this war would be long over.”
She said nothing for several seconds, several emotions warring across her face. “You ... Sunbeam must have worked some foul magic upon their minds. Yes, of course, I should have anticipated she would do something so nefarious.” Her eyes narrowed. “I pray you are right, Shadow. I pray she does survive against Hidden and his Warlocks. She does not deserve a quick death in battle after this atrocity. Neigh, her suffering shall be such that centuries from now, ponies shall shudder whene’er they hear her name.”
I considered pressing my point, but ‘twould be no use. If Gale had turned against me, I would sooner believe dark magic was responsible than that she had betrayed me of her own volition. “I think I know the pain in your heart. I felt the shadow of it when my daughter was in peril, and I know Sunbeam feels it now as she rushes to rescue her child. Surely you of all ponies must understand that—”
“You think you know my pain?!” the Avatar shrieked. “You know only the barest fraction of it! Thy child was merely a prisoner. You have no idea how much I wished to show you mine agony, how hard it was to resist the urge to slowly butcher her before your eyes! Had I done that, you might know my pain! My daughter died! She did not even have the honor of a warrior's death!”
I grimaced and nodded. “No, she did not. Lance deserved better, and her demise is a great source of shame to me. Were it within my power to undo it I would, no matter what the cost.”
“Pity you cannot do so.” She leveled her spear at me. “All I can offer you is the chance to atone with your blood on my spear. If you truly regret your actions, I shall give you a swifter and less painful death than you granted my beloved daughter.”
“If this were a matter of honor ‘tween the two of us...” I left the rest of that unspoken, for in truth I do not know what I might have done had the events leading to Lance’s death unfolded in simpler times. “Lance's death was an accident—what you plan for Midnight is willful murder, and while Lance was a soldier on the battlefield Midnight is a mere child. I knew your daughter well enough to say that she would be ashamed by what you do in her name.”
“Do not speak to me of the child you slaughtered!” the Avatar roared. “Your lips befoul the purity of her name every time you speak it! You do not have the right to say my daughter’s name, let alone claim you knew her! Pray you are skilled enough to force me to kill you, for if I take you alive your suffering will eclipse that which I plan for Sunbeam!”
“And what of Midnight’s suffering?” I demanded.
The Avatar’s jaw clenched. “Midnight will give me the power I need to end this war and avenge my children. E’en if everything you claimed about her was true, a single life is a small price to pay for justice.”
“I will not allow you to harm her.” I squared my shoulders, dropping into a ready stance.
“‘Will not allow’?” the Avatar repeated incredulously. “You cannot stop me. I know your tricks now, and I know how to beat them. Soon my followers will o’erwhelm Sunbeam, though do not fear—I will keep your defeat a pleasure for myself alone. You will die gasping upon my spear, seeing everything you hoped to accomplish turn to ashes. I have not decided whether ‘twould be a sweeter revenge to murder your daughter or turn her to my side, but know that one of those will surely happen. And as for my treacherous sister, once I hurl your corpse at her hooves, she will follow you in death, and all of Equestria will finally be mine!”
“You speak a great deal about what you will do once you defeat me.” I took a single careful step back, evaluating the reach and striking range of her lance. “It would perhaps be wise to refrain from making such plans ere you accomplish your first goal.”
“I will enjoy tasting thy blood.” She hefted her spear, making a few token probes to gauge my reaction. “Tonight, I avenge all those that I have lost.”
“No. Tonight you fall.”
Our weapons met, and my greatest battle began.
Author's Note
As always, thanks to my pre-reading and editing team for all their hard work. Also, I would like to thank all my dedicated Patreon supporters. You guys are awesome.
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Aidan Hall
The Avatar rushed forward, her lance aimed to pierce my chest almost exactly where she struck me down before. I leapt back and spread my wings, taking myself over her attack. Though I was out of position to land a strike with my blades, I did kick at her face when the opening presented itself. The blow did not connect and would not have had much in the way of power even if it had, but ‘twas worthwhile simply for the fact that it forced her to kill her forward momentum to avoid being struck.
Her response came swiftly after dodging my blow. She fell back a step, out of range from mine own weapons, but still well within striking distance for her lance. She drove me back with a series of quick thrusts, and while many of them likely would not have connected firmly enough to break mine armor, the attacks came too quickly for me to judge which were dangerous and which were mere feints. ‘Twas all I could manage just to hold her weapon at bay.
Then her real strike came in a flash of spellwork, turning the very ground beneath my hooves into a sheet of ice. I slipped on the ice, and it likely would have ended me were it not for my being blessed with wings. As it was, I took to the air easily enough, denying her any advantage. “You have spent too long as an abomination, Avatar. Pegasi do not fight on the ground.”
She closed on me in an effort to land a blow ere I could fully settle into the air, but she underestimated mine agility. Though she was fast enough that I could not dodge her entirely, ‘twas simple enough to turn so that her lance’s tip scraped along mine armor without finding purchase. She glowered up at me, not daring to take to the air and create an opening I might exploit. “And how much air dost thou have to fight in whilst trapped in a building?”
I saw a chance to unsettle her. Bright had always been a proud and temperamental mare, and those traits had not faded after her transformation. “Is that the way of it, then? Thou must trap me and fight like an earth pony or a unicorn? Art thou so much the monster now that thou canst not defeat me while battling as a pegasus?”
Her eyes narrowed and her lip curled in a contemptuous snarl. “Thou art the last creature on this earth that I fear. Fight me on the earth, in the skies, or whate’er location thou canst conceive. ‘Twill not change the outcome—thou shalt die, as it should have been months ago when I first struck thee down.”
I moved for the kill. “Then remove the barrier ‘round this house, so that we might fight in the skies as true pegasi should.”
The Avatar scoffed incredulously. “Remove the barrier and allow thine allies into the manor? Dost thou takest me for a fool? I will not allow thy minions to disrupt the ritual and prevent the Conduit from unleashing my full power.”
“A fool?” I smirked as I saw the chance to land a quick barb. “Thou didst sell thyself to the Nightmare, discarding all honor and damning thyself and thine entire cause in the process. I would call that the very height of foolishness.”
Her teeth clenched. “Dost thou know why I sealed the bargain that granted mine apotheosis? ‘Twas all too simple, in truth: as I lay dying, Luna only needed to say a few simple words. My vengeance was not yet complete. Sunbeam still lived. My bitch sister thou so loyally serve’st still lived. Every single pony in Canterlot who had a hoof in Lance’s death by continuing to defy me had not yet suffered for their crimes.” She strode to the barrier, which parted like a curtain to let her through. “Tell thy followers then. Let them watch our battle, so that they might bear witness as I crush the life from thee. I shall break their spirits e’en as I shatter thy body.”
I did not dignify her boasts with a response. My victory would speak far louder than any words I might bandy with her. I followed her through the barrier, which sealed itself behind me. The forces I had brought to the manor stared at the both of us, some with confusion but most with keen interest. They had already likely guessed what I was about to tell them. “The Avatar and I will engage in single combat. None may interfere.”
Most of the soldiers grunted and nodded, and to my displeasure a few of them stood down to find somewhere to view our duel rather than remain focused on the manor. The Avatar turned to me with a cold smile. “Excellent. E’er since mine earliest duels in our homeland, I have always enjoyed having an audience for my victories. Centuries from now, the bards shall still sing of the day I vanquished thee.”
“I care not whether any bards sing of me,” I growled, facing her and readying my blades, “But I shall take pleasure in ending the monster thou hast become.”
“Thou shalt try.” The Avatar made her move, catching me unawares. I had expected an attack of some sort, but instead she simply launched herself into the air. I wasted no time following behind her, but she had gained a critical lead in the moments she had gained. Worse, as our wings heaved against the air her lead grew wider rather than narrowing.
In challenging the Avatar to battle in the sky, I had neglected to mention when the duel should begin. I suppose some corner of my mind had assumed we would both take to the air and begin from an equal height. In hindsight ‘twas obvious we would begin on the ground, and that whoe’er could climb the fastest would hold a critical advantage. Though I was no weakling, Bright had likely been one of the strongest fliers in all Pegasopolis e’en before her transformation. The lance required fast climbs and steep dives, whilst mine own wing blades were a weapon more suited to agile maneuvers.
The Avatar was all too aware of her growing lead, looking o’er her shoulder at me with a triumphant smirk. “E’en before mine apotheosis I was thy better, Shadow, and I have an alicorn’s speed and strength now! I had not realized thou wert so eager to embrace thine own destruction, but I shall gladly grant it!”
I spotted the telltale flash of spellwork an instant before the icy darts she had conjured came for me. ‘Twas easy enough to dodge most of the strikes, and those that I could not avoid deflected off mine armor with no damage. Howe’er, wounding me had not been the spell’s true purpose. She had gained e’en more height whilst I dodged the attack, and the momentum of my climb had been almost completely lost. I had no hope of catching her, or remaining close enough that she could not turn and charge ere I caught her. Mine only chance now was to wait for her attack and hope that I could turn it to mine advantage. Ceding the initiative was almost ne’er a path to victory, as all one could do at that point was survive and hope the enemy would eventually make an error that could be exploited.
The Avatar whirled about and descended on me, her lance leading the way. I had only moments to react and would have to time my move perfectly. Too soon, and she would have time to correct her aim. Too late ... well, the consequences for that were obvious.
I was so focused on the incoming lance strike that I almost missed the Avatar’s hidden strike. As I began slipping to the side the Avatar broke into mist, shooting past me and reforming on mine other side. She was now perfectly positioned to put her lance ‘tween my shoulders, and I had no hope of stopping her of getting out the way before the blow connected.
With no other option, I reached into the armor’s reserve of magic and unleashed it in a single blinding flash of light. The lance tip slammed into my back a heartbeat later, but rather than finding solid purchase it skittered off mine armor. Even so, the blow struck me like a sledgehammer despite the armor itself and the padding I wore beneath it. If not for Celestia’s fine craftsmanship, the force of the strike alone might well have snapped my spine.
By the time I recovered from the blow, the Avatar was already climbing again. I could almost feel the magic thrumming through the air around her, bending the winds to her will to aid her climb. She had already regained the advantage on height, and I knew I stood little chance of catching up with her.
She had come to much the same conclusion, smirking triumphantly down at me. “Thou might as well surrender now and end this farce, Shadow! Thou canst not catch me in the air. Thou couldst not e’en defeat mine own daughter in a fair battle, and resorted to treachery to slay her. What chance dost thou stand against mine ascended might?!”
She was right in one regard: e’en with the protection of the armor Celestia and Sunbeam had crafted for me, I could not win by matching my raw strength against hers. Thankfully, while I lacked the raw might of the Avatar, I was not without mine own advantages. Rather than attempt to catch up to her or surrender the initiative, I placed myself to take advantage of her next strike.
If there was one advantage to be had against her lance and its charges, ‘twas that she operated in straight lines. E’en the translocation spell she had used merely altered her angle of attack, not the line it followed. The very nature of a lance charge ensured that her path would not end with me—’twould take time for her to come about and halt her momentum. With my new position, that charge would carry her straight into her own barrier surrounding the manor.
I was ready for the Avatar when she came for me again. Howe’er, this time instead of attempting to bring her lance to bear against me she let it slip to the side, her real attack coming in the form of a shoulder to my chest. The strike sent me flying back, down towards the shield.
She followed me down, grabbing one of my wings to prevent me from pulling out of my fall. “Didst thou think me blind, Shadow? That I would foolishly charge into mine own shield like an enraged brute?” She forced me all the way down to the manor itself, only flaring her wings to stop our fall once I could not hope to avoid it. “Let us put the power of my sister’s craftsmanship to the test, then!” She shoved my head into the lightning field. (1)
1: Presumably, she had some sort of protection to prevent this from electrocuting her as well.
One would think that being electrocuted would be far more painful than what I experienced. In truth, beyond a slight pain in my chest, I felt nothing but numbness. E’en that soon faded, followed by intense heat from mine armor as it absorbed the power flowing into me. E’en Celestia’s fine work had its limits, and only so much power could be absorbed without finding some means of release.
Fortunately, I had the perfect target for that. Bright had mistaken mine intentions, thinking I merely hoped she would collide with the barrier while pulling out of a lance dive. While I had not anticipated this exact course of events, ‘twas close enough to what I had planned.
I slapped a hoof against the Avatar’s belly and unleashed every ounce of power mine armor had absorbed. Ere she e’en realized what I had done, a beam of pure force punched through her, tearing a hole the size of my hoof straight through her body and out her back. The beam shot skyward uninterrupted, eventually reaching the massive dome shield covering the city. When it struck, the shield rippled like a pond disturbed by a rock.
The barrier surrounding the manor collapsed, its strength stolen away. My soldiers wasted no time rushing into the opening I had created. Though they moved too quickly for me to be certain, I thought I spotted Gale amongst them.
Howe’er, I could not afford to remove mine attention from the Avatar long enough to confirm it. Despite having suffered a wound that by all right should have been mortal, or at least crippling, the Avatar had not fallen—her wound did not e’en bleed as it should have. As she withdrew from me, I noted that her blood flowed through the wound as if ‘twere not there at all, continuing onward through the hole and back into her body.
Despite hearing time and again that she was an abomination, I had not truly grasped how much the term applied to her. She was not merely a pony that had the hubris to attempt to claim the power of an alicorn, she was ... wrong . Simple as the word was, it seemed to capture what she was in a way that no flowery speech could e’er manage. Something like her should not exist in a decent world. “What hast thou become, Bright?”
She flitted back and landed on a tower, drawing herself to her full height. “Strong. Stronger than thou couldst possibly imagine. Dost thou think thy soldiers’ entry is a victory? That I did not anticipate that my defenses might fail? The hetairoi , the cream of Pegasopolis, await them within along with my loyal magi and other most unpleasant surprises. The ritual will proceed as planned, despite thine efforts. All thou hast accomplished is sending more of thy minions to a painful death.”
“We shall see.” As she had landed, I took the chance to seize the initiative and change the nature of the battle. Rather than climbing into the sky for height I remained near ground level, darting in between Canterlot’s buildings and towers. Though I could not match the Avatar’s raw speed, her charges required straight lines to build momentum. A contest of agility denied her that, and played to mine own strengths.
As we darted ‘tween the city’s buildings, I took stock of mine injuries. My battle-lust had dulled the pain of the Avatar’s blows, and now that I had a few moments spare for mine own condition I was surprised by what I found. My back would likely be a single massive bruise if I lived long enough for that to be a concern, and one of the bones in my foreleg had cracked from the impact of her second charge. Yet e’en as I became aware of the injury, I realized that mine armor had tightened around it, holding the damaged bone in place as well as any cast. I found that I could still use the limb reasonably well, although it moved stiffly and with some discomfort.
Certainly I had gotten the better of mine exchange with the Avatar by most conventional measures. Howe’er, her unnatural vitality put that in question. She could endure wounds that ought to be mortal, and evidently felt no pain from injuries that would drop even the hardiest soldiers. A few short hours ago I had reveled in mine own mortality, but now a small part of me wished I had remained in my former unnatural state. I certainly would have enjoyed sharing her immunity to pain and fatigue.
A tower passed ‘tween us, but when I emerged on the other side the Avatar was nowhere to be seen. After quickly confirming that she was not about to swoop down upon me from above, I halted mine own flight, slipping underneath a balcony on one of the nearby towers. As I faded into the shadows I tapped into mine armor’s own reserves once more, and the darkness wrapped itself around me with the familiarity of an old lover.
And then I waited. Stealth is as much a matter of patience as agility or cunning, and many an infiltrator had been undone by moving too swiftly. In her youth, Bright had been wild and impulsive, and while age had tempered those tendencies it had not eliminated them completely. With her blood up and battle-lust roaring in her ears, ‘twas all but certain that she would be the first to reveal herself.
She did so soon enough, though only by voice and using magic to conceal where she was speaking from. “Thinkest thou that the darkness is thine ally? Hast thou forgotten the very nature of mine apotheosis? I am the night, and all that hides from the light cast by my sister’s burning sun belongs to me. The very shadows thou art named for betray thee, for I made them millenia ere you were born.”
Despite her words, I remained in place. If she could truly find me so easily, she likely would have cut me down ere I realized my peril. Neigh, her words were intended to draw me out of my hiding place. ‘Twould be wiser to remain hidden. If she could truly find me so easily, then let her prove it.
Unless...
I slipped out of my hiding place, doing my best to put up appearance of maintaining stealth while being just visible enough for an attentive foe to notice. Let her think her ploy had worked, and I could turn it upon her when it suited me.
“Fool!” The Avatar swooped down from the heavens towards me, revealing herself. Moments later her form shimmered, and then three abominations charged towards me instead of one.
If she thought illusions would give me pause, she was mistaken. Rather than waste precious moments trying to find some clue as to which was the real Avatar, I chose one of the three at random and countercharged. It seemed I had chosen well, for we passed through one another, while the other two Avatars passed behind me. My three foes whirled about, passing through one another’s paths several times so that I could not be certain which one was the illusion I had already identified. The three of them spoke in unison. “Luck has favored thee once, Shadow. How long wilt thou rely upon it?”
I knew it could not be that simple. The Avatar would not do something so crude as repeat the same maneuver over and over until luck favored her, and she could not think I would go along with such a farce. Neigh, she had some other plan in store.
I drew upon mine armor once more, sharpening my senses. As I had suspected, none of the Avatars before me was the true one. Their wings displaced no air, and none of them smelled of sweat, blood, freshly oiled armor, or anything at all. The real Avatar was high above, likely planning to dive down upon me while I remained occupied with her illusions.
I had left my concealed position to let her think her ploys were fooling me, and I saw no reason to stop now. I feigned ignorance, sparring with her shadows while always keeping one ear turned towards the sky. I waited until I heard the telltale rush of wind rapidly passing o’er wings, telling me that she had fully committed to the strike.
As I could not perfectly find her by sound, mine initial counter needed to strike a wide area. Once more, I called upon mine armor’s ability to produce a blinding flash of light. The Avatar let out a startled cry as I stole her sight, and my blades slashed out towards her voice. One of them struck a solid blow, and a spray of blood emerged from empty air.
The Avatar returned to visibility, abandoning her failed illusion. One of her wings had a long but deep enough cut for me to see bone beneath her flesh. She struggled to remain airborne, her wounded wing flailing weakly.
I grinned and followed, keen on pressing the advantage now that she was wounded. “Didst thou truly think thou couldst beat me in a battle of wits and stealth?”
She looked back o’er her shoulder at me. “Aye.” Her wounded wing straightened itself, her unnatural vitality asserting itself once. I tried to alter my path, but I had pursued her too eagerly. ‘Twas too close for her bring her lance tip to bear, so she settled for swinging the weighted butt at my face. I ducked my head in time to take the blow on my helmet, and e’en then the impact was so loud it nearly deafened me. For all its fine craftsmanship, I felt my helmet buckle from the force of the blow, and ‘twas suddenly uncomfortably tight. Despite a brief impulse to remove it, I left it firmly in place. If her blow had done that much damage to a finely-made and heavily enchanted steel helm, it would have done far worse to an unprotected skull.
I thought to whirl about and face the Avatar again, but mine eyes struck upon a better option. I continued forward, reaching the edge of the city and nearing the protective dome Celestia had held in place around it for many months. If the barrier around the Line Manor had given me strength enough to blast a hole through the Avatar’s body, what might I gain from drawing upon a shield many times larger and more powerful?
The Avatar’s eyes widened as she divined my purpose. “Thou shalt not!” E’en with her injured wing, she more than matched my speed, snaring one of my hind legs and yanking it back. Though it did not injure me, I lost all forward momentum and had to dive down to escape from her. When I tried to return to mine original course, I found the Avatar betwixt me and the barrier. “I will not let thee steal my sister’s power. This fight is between us.”
“Then stop me.” I shot to the side, moving down a side alley in hopes of outflanking her.
The Avatar roared and unleashed a devastating blast of lightning, tearing through one of the buildings at the end of the alleyway and collapsing it, blocking off my path. I did not have enough room to turn and fly o’er it, and so had little choice but to halt and turn to face her.
I barely had time to ready myself before she struck, repeating her earlier tactic of bombarding me with dozens of small icy darts. ‘Twas simple enough to duck my head to protect my face, trusting to mine armor to block the light attacks. Howe’er, the blows upon mine already damaged helmet rang far too loud, and in protecting my face I took mine eyes off of her for a critical moment.
I realized my peril too late when I spotted movement out of the corner of my lowered eyes. The Avatar had used another spell to tear several pieces of rubble from the collapsed building, hurling them towards me like massive boulders. I spread my wings and sailed o’er the miniature avalanche, but the Avatar used the opportunity to strike with more of her icy darts. This time, instead of targetting my face or body, she aimed for my wings.
My wing blades and armor protected me from any serious wounds, but I could hardly armor my feathers without undermining their purpose. The Avatar had evidently shaped these darts specifically to catch them, and I hissed in pain as dozens of feathers were torn from my wings. ‘Twas all I could manage just to come to a relatively safe landing, hitting the ground hard and rolling to disperse my momentum. I tried a single experimental flap, confirming my fears. I would not be taking to the skies again without regaining my lost feathers, and that would take weeks without magical aid. For all mine armor’s enchantments, it could only bind my body, not restore it.
The Avatar landed in front of me, grinning triumphantly. “It seems thou canst no longer fight me in the sky. I shall be sporting enough to slay thee on the ground, then.” As she stalked towards me, I noted that her wounded wing did not fold against her side properly, and if anything the damage I had inflicted upon it looked e’en worse than when I had first struck the blow. Her monstrous vigor had allowed her to ignore the wound for a time, but evidently that had come at a price. Perhaps her decision to battle on the ground was a product of necessity as much as chivalry.
She conjured ice once more, but this time instead of a few small distracting darts she made her projectiles far larger. I did not know if these ice spears could pierce my fine armor, but I had no intention of testing it needlessly. As she hurled them towards me I snatched up an o’erfilled refuse bin, letting it serve as an impromptu shield to absorb the blows. A second later the Avatar swatted aside my shield with kinetic blast, charging forward with a battlecry as she readied her lance.
My time on the ground had trained me in a few nuances of warfare that were often lost upon those of us who battled in the sky. As the Avatar came on, I kicked the rubbish bin towards her, scattering its contents across the street. The Avatar’s charge slowed, a critical second’s hesitation as she worked to ensure she did not trip over any of the dozens of obstacles I had just added to the ground between us.
I exploited mine advantage to good effect, rushing past her extended lance and closing with the mare herself. I was moving too swiftly to deliver a proper punch or bring my blades to bear, so instead I lowered my head and slammed my helmet into her face.
The Avatar fell back with a groan, but I could not exploit the opening I had created. It seemed that the blow she had struck my helm earlier had some lingering effect, for mine own skull ached far more than it should have when I had surely gotten the better of the exchange. By the time I could shake away mine own pain and disorientation, the Avatar had recovered her hooves and was ready for me once more.
Indeed, despite the blood leaking from what I hoped was a broken nose, ‘twas the Avatar who struck first. She aimed her lance for the gap in my plates at the shoulder, but I saw the attack coming in time to change my stance so that the plates overlapped, leaving the speartip nowhere to go. I countered with a slash aimed at her lance’s shaft, but it had been reinforced with metallic bands that not e’en my fine blades could cut through easily.
The Avatar kept up her offensive, forcing me back with a series of rapid thrusts that took full advantage of the superior reach of her polearm. While the lance was not ideally balanced for use outside the charge, the Avatar clearly had enough skill to manage despite that.
I prepared another flash of blinding light in effort to close the gap, but I had already used that tactic twice before, and now it seemed mine opponent was ready for it. No sooner had the light begun to manifest than a darkness spell countered it, and the distraction gave the Avatar a chance to slam her lance into my chest. Mine armor held and sent the tip sliding away, but the force of the blow still staggered me.
Mine opponent grinned viciously and shifted her grip, shortening it so she could strike with greater force and precision. “That last blow would have slain any other. What art thou without thine armor, Shadow?”
“If not for thee being twisted into a crime against nature, thou wouldst be dead twice o’er,” I countered.
“Mayhaps, but I shall continue cheating death for centuries after thy corpse grows cold!” She rushed in, bringing her spear down in a powerful overhand stab. I hopped back to avoid the blow, and she quickly reversed her grip and struck with an uppercut that came perilously close to driving the tip of her spear up through my chin. After avoiding the blow by a hair’s breadth, I closed in to slash at her legs, but she knocked my blades aside with the butt end of her lance. Howe’er, this time I struck below the reinforced section of her polearm, and my blades left a pair of deep notches in the wood.
I only had a moment to save that small victory before she fouled my legs with her weapon. I tried to recover my balance, but with a single easy motion she sent me tumbling to the ground. The maneuver exacerbated the damage to her lance, but left me flat on my back. She brought her spear stabbing down at my face, I jerked my head to the side to avoid her first strike, and while I avoided the worst of it, her blow tore through my cheekguard and sliced my face so deeply that ‘twould leave me badly disfigured if I lived long enough to concern myself with such matters. I felt the armor’s magic surge to the wound, slowing the bleeding and sealing it.
She drew back for another strike, and I rolled backwards to lash out with my hind legs, aiming for her elbows. The strike succeeded by the narrowest of margins, stopping her lance’s point when ‘twas but a hairsbreadth away from mine eyes.
The Avatar pressed down against me, trying to force her lance to close those last few inches. “Thine end is at hoof, Shadow.”
“Not today.” I lashed out at her with my wing blades. While mine attack and angle and leverage left me no hope of scoring a telling blow, the attack distracted her for a critical moment, allowing me to break the deadlock and roll away to the side.
The Avatar’s lance slammed into the ground, leaving a deep gouge in the cobblestones. She quickly brought her weapon back to the guard position, smiling viciously. “I nearly had thee. How many more tricks dost thou have that can allow thee to escape certain doom?”
“Enough.” I grunted, readying myself for the next exchange.
The Avatar charged me again, and I used one of her own tricks against her. Mine illusion was doubtless far less sophisticated than hers, but it did not need to be anywhere near as elaborate when I only expected it to hold for a fraction of a second. E’en as mine opponent's spear passed through my shadowy duplicate, I was slipping into cover. Unlike the Avatar, I needed no magic to hide myself.
She let out a howl of rage as she realized the deception. She conjured up several waves of ice shards, hurling them at every hidden corner she could find. When she targeted my hiding place I merely endured the blast, confident in mine armor’s ability to resist the attack.
Seeing that her gambit to flush me out had failed, she snarled and lashed out at one of the nearby buildings, several lightning bolts tearing chunks out of the masonry. “Face me, coward! If we were fighting in a dueling ring, thou wouldst have forfeited the match!”
“Does this look like a dueling ring to thee?” I masked my voice so ‘twould not betray my location, and for added measure I threw a small pebble further down the alley. The Avatar fell for the ploy in her o’erwrought state, turning towards my distraction and lashing out with a blast of raw force that tore the alleyway to pieces and kicked up a massive cloud of dust and debris.
I saw my chance, rushing out into the concealing cloud and silently coming behind the Avatar while the noise of her own attack still rang in her ears. I closed on her back, taking a moment to concentrate and activate my blades’ enchantment so that they glowed white-hot when I struck. The armor protecting the Avatar’s hamstrings offered no more resistance than a stick of butter, and I cut into the muscle beneath just as easily. The wound did not e’en bleed, for my blade was so hot that it instantly cauterized her flesh.
I tried to carry my strike into her other leg, but the Avatar reacted too quickly and I managed no more than a flesh wound. She snarled and lashed out another burst of ice shards. This time she caught me out, and I barely managed to close mine eyes in time to protect them. Several shards found their way past my helmet, One of them cut deeply into mine eyelid, and for a few desperate seconds I feared it had gone into the eye itself.
Both of us stepped back, taking stock of our wounds. I risked briefly removing my helm to wipe away the worst of the blood and ensure that I could still see out of my wounded eye, while the Avatar tested her wounded leg. It seemed she could still walk, albeit far more slowly than she had before, and with her unwounded wing half open for balance.
Despite the pain of mine own wounds, I felt a cautious spark of optimism. Mine armor’s enchantments had already stopped the worst of the blood loss, and while my wounds pained me, I was a warrior of Pegasopolis, trained from birth to carry on through all manner of privation. I called to mind the works of Lyequinegus—most notably his famous statement that pain was naught but an illusion of the senses, and one could choose to ignore it just as one did an unpleasant sight or smell.
I took in both our battered states, and a faint grin danced across my lips. “I think that we are both nearly finished, Avatar.”
Her eyes snapped back to me, glaring hatefully. “No, only thee.” Her magic surged once more, grasping several pieces of the ruined building and hurling them at me. I rushed forward, aiming to close the distance to her and deny her attack. As I had hoped, her efforts to back away and buy time to hurl more of her improvised missiles were lackluster at best. Though her unnatural state might grant her immunity to pain and resistance to injury, I had damaged her leg so badly that the muscle beneath was no longer capable of functioning.
She raised a foreleg to stop mine attack as my blade descended upon her, and to my surprise the blow stopped cold. A second later I saw the heavy spellwork lingering on it, and recalled that she had met her first death on account of a wound there.
She answered mine attack with another thrust to the chest, but as with her previous efforts my breastplate was more than a match for her. I could not help but be somewhat amused by the symmetry of it all. “It seems neither of us shall die the same way as we did in the past.”
The Avatar scoffed and shook her head. “I would not know. I have ne’er died.” She limped back a step. “But I have learned thy tricks all too well. Heavy braces so thy blades cannot slip past and open a vein. Indirect magic so thy leechcraft cannot steal my power and make it thine own. Do not forget that I am the greatest duelist in Pegasopolis.”
“I have heard that said of thee many times,” I countered coolly. “But surely thou knowest that I ne’er made a point of hopping into the dueling ring over any minor slight.”
“I know why thou didst not grace the ring with thy presence.” Her lips curled back in a contemptuous sneer. “Why fight an open duel in the sight of all Pegasopolis when thou couldst skulk about and slip a knife in an unsuspecting pony’s back? That is how thou didst slay my daughter after she bested thee in honorable combat.”
I grimaced at the reminder. “How many times must I say that her death was ne’er my desire?!”
“Speak the lie as often as thou wish, ‘twill change nothing.” She began another spell, and despite the injuries I had inflicted on her leg it steadied beneath. There was cold, sickly sweet smell to her magic and the flesh of her leg turned pallid, the veins blackening and distending. “E’en if thy claim is true—if my daughter’s death was naught but an accident—it changes nothing. My child is dead, and if not for thee she would live.”
I stared at her leg, unraveling what magic she had worked upon it. On any other pony ‘twould have been a horror, but compared to all the other ways in which the Avatar had warped her own flesh, it seemed a trifle. Already she was a monstrous thing whose body carried wounds that should fell any living being, and whose blood flowed unnaturally through the holes I had carved in her flesh. This latest horror seemed hardly worth noting compared to what had already been done. “What hast thou become, Bright?
She scoffed. “In truth, I care not. Monster, demon, goddess, queen—all empty words and prattle of unicorns. The only thing that matters to me is that this apotheosis has granted me the power to avenge myself upon all those who have wronged me. I would gladly damn my soul to an eternity of torment and my memory stricken from the rolls of honor if that path ended with the death of mine enemies.”
“Then there is nothing more to discuss.” I closed on her, moving slowly now from the pain of my wounds. I swiped at her head, and she easily swatted the blow aside with her lance. She followed that with a few token jabs at my face but I easily dodged or parried all of them.
We exchanged a few more blows, neither of us truly committing to any of the attacks. I did not think I could recover fast enough to have sound defenses against her counter if I struck unwisely, and I suspect the same thoughts occupied the Avatar’s mind.
The battle continued in that regard for some time. Gone were the sudden maneuvers and clever gambits, for neither of us had the energy or daring to try such at this late stage. ‘Twas naught but a battle of attrition and endurance, each of us pressing the other and waiting to see who would fall first.
As the battle continued, I felt a charge slowly building in the air. There was a heavy oppressiveness to it, akin to the feeling of two armies preparing to meet in battle, each waiting for the moment when ‘twould be joined. A terrible energy building up like a drawn bow, and all the world held its breath waiting for it to be released. I slowed, almost feeling compelled to stop and wait until it passed. What point was there in trading a few punches with the Avatar when such massive forces were at play?
The Avatar spat, then grinned at me with bloodstained teeth. “Thou art undone, Shadow. The Conduit has been activated, and soon I shall unleash my full strength upon this world. Thou couldst barely stand against me with but a tiny fraction of my true strength; how wilt thou survive when my power grows a thousandfold?!”
“And yet, thou dost not seem any stronger now.” E’en if she achieved all she dreamed of, I did not think she would grow nearly so mighty as she claimed. Not that I had any desire to put that theory to the test, for ‘twould mean that young Midnight had been murdered by her warlocks. “Thy ritual will not succeed, Avatar. Sunbeam would ne’er allow it.”
“She would not allow it?” the Avatar repeated incredulously. “Thou speakest as if she had any choice in the matter. The whore who stole my Conduit cannot hope to defeat all my followers. Hidden and Moonwatch are each her equal, and the greatest warriors in Pegasopolis stand beside them. In all likelihood, she is already dead.”
“We shall see.” I settled against a wall, taking a moment to catch my breath. It might have been more prudent to press a last offensive in case the ritual succeeded, but I judged against it. Desperation was far more likely to lead to me pushing too hard and leaving myself vulnerable, and the Avatar’s unnatural resilience had already allowed her to survive strikes that should have been killing blows. Neigh, all I could do now was wait and have faith in mine allies.
The Avatar seemed content to follow mine example. “It is fitting, I suppose. Thou shalt be the first to fall once my full might is unleashed. Tempting as ‘twould be to make thee live and watch as Canterlot crumbles, thou hast succeeded in vexing me far too many times. Thou wilt have to imagine all Canterlot in flames, and the ruin of everything thou lovest.”
Though such thoughts had haunted my nightmares more than once since the war began, I would not give her the satisfaction. “I am afraid mine imagination is rather poor, for I cannot conceive of anything so utterly impossible. Unlike thee, I do not underestimate the power of a mother’s love for her daughter.”
“Thou wouldst dare!” she snarled, rising to her hooves and stalking towards me. “All I have done, this entire war, all of it was for them. Thou hast murdered half of my children, and Equestria shall burn until I avenge them!”
“And what of thy surviving children?” I demanded. “They abandoned thee for thy crimes and madness. Thou hast done far more damage to thine own family than I e’er could!”
The Avatar roared like an enraged beast, charging and stabbing wildly with her lance. I easily batted aside or dodged her unfocused attacks, giving ground and letting her play out her rage while I waited for mine opening. Her attacks gradually slowed as her burst of fury left her drained, her wounded body unable to sustain her efforts and her muscles pushed past their limits.
I saw my chance when she stabbed at my head, the blow extending much too far and being recovered far too slowly. I struck, empowering my blades once more ere I slashed at her chest. My blow parted her armor like cheesecloth, passing into the flesh beneath and, more importantly, the muscles. I knew not what unnatural force drove the Avatar forward, but my blow to her leg proved that she still needed intact muscles to move. As my blade carved through her chest, her forelegs collapsed beneath her like a puppet whose strings had been cut.
I kicked away her lance. “Thy strength hath faded, Avatar. Make what peace thou canst in thy last moments.”
She snarled, vainly struggling to make her limbs move. “‘Tis not o’er yet. My true strength ... shall be ... unleashed ... soon enough. The ritual must be...”
“It has failed. Canst thou not feel it in the air? There is no power awaiting thee. Lay down thine arms, and mayhaps the Commander will be able to undo all that thou hast done to thyself.” I judged it unlikely, but I owed it to the mare she had once been to try.
“No!” She struggled to take to the air, but her damaged wing refused to work. “I would rather die screaming in agony for a thousand years than accept the slightest aid from thee! I spit upon thy so-called mercy! Spare me, and I swear I shall cut thee down as soon as my wounds heal!” She lashed out at me with a bolt of lightning, but mine armor easily absorbed the direct magical assault.
“It is over.” I readied my blade for the deathblow. “Thou hast lost.”
She glowered defiantly up at me but the rage slowly faded her from her eyes and her head fell with a resigned sigh. “Aye. I am undone. Without the Conduit, I cannot win.” Her teeth clenched, and she grinned at me. “But we can both still lose.”
The Avatar shattered apart, vanishing in a puff of smoke.
My first instinct was to search my surroundings, expecting her to attack me from behind at any moment. Howe’er, as I found no sign of the Avatar, I realized the horrible meaning of her words. ‘Twas not my blood she aimed to shed.
I concentrated on the point she had vanished from, turning all mine armor’s energy towards it. I needed to follow the Avatar. I needed it, perhaps, more than I had e’er needed something in my life. Finally, I found the tiniest thread of the Avatar’s magic and seized upon it, pulling myself in its wake. My body felt thin, stretched, and nearly torn asunder, but I could tell it was working as my surroundings vanished and blurred about me.
I opened mine eyes to discover what had once been a finely appointed room in what I presumed to be Duke Line’s manor. The elaborate tapestries had been torn asunder, and the lush carpets soaked with blood. At the center of the room lay a massive ritual circle torn asunder by a small mountain of jagged ice. Several robed figures hung impaled by icy spears, and in the epicenter of the explosion lay young Midnight herself. The child appeared limp and lifeless, though the faintest movement of her chest confirmed that she yet lived.
Sunbeam and Gale watched o’er her, though both had clearly suffered in the battle to reach her. I could scarcely see Sunbeam herself ‘neath the ash and blood adorning her, and while I was sure that much of that blood was not hers, some of it was. As I watched, Sunbeam strode to her daughter, picking her up and carefully examining her.
The Avatar emerged from the shadows, behind the two of them. A thunderbolt caught Sunbeam and Midnight from behind, taking the exhausted magus unawares and sending her body flying across the room. Gale had barely turned to face her attacker ere the Avatar lashed out, freezing her to the massive icy stalagmite.
Then my hooves struck solid stone as I fully arrived within the basement. Terror drove the pain and weakness from my body, and I rushed forward to interpose myself ‘tween the Avatar and my captured daughter. The Avatar herself had somehow deteriorated e’en more in the moments since I had last seen her. Her chest now seemed a ravaged ruin of mottled, rotting flesh, but she walked as if her forelegs were undamaged. I could not imagine that whate’er she had done to restore them would last for long, but clearly ‘twould be long enough for her purposes.
The Avatar greeted me with a cold smile. “Ah, I had hoped thou wouldst be able to join us. I was about to add the finishing touch to this little piece of theater.”
She gestured towards my daughter, and the ice holding her in place extended o’er her muzzle, covering it completely. My daughter’s eyes widened and she frantically struggled, but she could not free herself from her bonds.
My first instinct was to rush to her side, but I knew ‘twould leave me vulnerable to her captor. With a mother’s fury driving me, I descended upon the monster. She thrust at me with her lance, and the blow deflected off my pauldron. It cut into my neck, but not deeply enough to stop mine own strike from opening her throat to the spine.
With the Avatar seen to, I turned mine attention to my daughter. I quickly heated one of my blades and pressed it against the ice covering her muzzle, melting it rapidly. My daughter gasped raggedly once I freed her mouth, but ere I could turn mine attention to her bonds her eyes widened in horror.
The Avatar struck me from behind, hammering her damaged lance into the vulnerable joint where my wing’s armor joined my shoulder. The blow drove through flesh and bone and into the ice beneath, pinning me in place next to my daughter. Despite the indescribable agony, I attempted to turn and face her, but a moment later one of my daughter’s own throwing spikes caught my wrist and pierced through it, lodging itself into the ice and leaving me helpless.
The Avatar slowly and deliberately stepped into my field of view, pinching down her severed throat to hold it closed. Her voice was so ragged I could barely understand the words, though in truth I could have guessed them regardless. “Watch now, Shadow.” She wrenched my head about, and I saw the ice forming o’er my daughter’s muzzle once more. “Watch helplessly as thy daughter’s life ebbs away. Spend thy last moments on this world suffering as I have every day of the miserably existence thou hast condemned me to.”
I struggled to free myself, but there was nothing I could do. The Avatar had pinned me in place, and for all my terror and desperation I could not free myself. My daughter struggled, her encased mouth gasping for air that would not come.
The Avatar’s rasping laughter rang in mine ears. E’en as she reveled in her victory I saw her wounded wing begin rotting away. ‘Twould seem that I had indeed struck a mortal blow, yet as I watched what might well be my daughter’s last breaths, I did not feel like the victor.
The Avatar leaned forward to whisper in mine ear. “Though I will die, I can yet cast my death curse down upon this miserable city. I know not how much more of it I can destroy with my final act, but I swear I will bring it to ruin. I only regret that thou wilt not live to see—”
“ENOUGH!” The word reverberated through the air like a hammerblow against a bell, and the ice entrapping my and my daughter. The Avatar herself staggered back as though stricken by a physical blow as the word echoed through the small chamber.
Commander Celestia strode into the room, clad in golden armor and radiant as the sun itself. She swung her shining blade, and fire erupted from it to slam the Avatar back. “Too many have already died on thine account. No more.”
Lance and spike removed themselves from my flesh, and a moment later I felt her magic flowing into those wounds and every other injury I had suffered. I could actually feel my flesh mending itself, the Commander stepped to my side, smiling down at me. “Thou hast fought well and valiantly, my noble Shadow. Already, thou hast done far more than I should e’er have asked of thee. Now, I shall finally do what I should have months ago.”
The Avatar dragged her body to its hooves once more, despite the fact that she was decaying before our eyes. “Sister...” The left side of her body was an utter ruin, the already devastated flesh burned away by the Commander’s attack. In the places where skin, bone, and muscle were gone entirely I could see the shriveled remnants of the organs beneath, vainly struggling to maintain a body that should have been dead for weeks. Her face bore only the barest resemblance to anything that belonged to a pony, a ruin of charred flesh and shattered bone. I cannot conceive of how such a creature could possibly continue to move and live when every single part of her seemed broken.
The ravaged remnants of the Avatar staggered forward, somehow able to speak despite all the damage she had suffered. “So good of thee to join us, sister. Wilt thou be mine executioner now that Shadow has exhausted me?”
The Commander faced her, slowly shaking her head. “Luna, my sister ... let this madness finally end. Let Bright Charger go. Let her join her children, as she should have long ago. We owe her that kindness, at least.”
The Avatar stared at her from dead eyes, her body twitching unnaturally. After a long silence another voice left the Avatar’s lips. “So be it. This ruined corpse is of no further use to me. I already planned to discard her once the Conduit fulfilled its purpose. Revel in this meaningless victory as thou wilt, but I will find another way to reclaim my rightful throne e’en if it takes me a thousand years.”
The Commander took half a step forward, her blade raised, but I placed myself ‘tween her and the Avatar. “Neigh, Commander. Imprisoning your sister was painful enough, I will not ask you to take this step.” Mine eyes flicked down to what had once been Bright Charger. “And ... as you said, the kindest thing we can do for her now is grant her peace. I played my part in stealing her daughter from her, it seems ... fitting that I reunite them.”
I stepped up to her. “Bright of Clan Charger, thou hast rebelled against thy rightful ruler, raised armies against her and shed the blood of noble ponies beyond counting. The sentence for these crimes is clear.” I readied my blade, measuring the stroke to ensure ‘twould be done cleanly. Ere I struck, a final statement left my lips. “I am ... sorry.”
For a moment, I saw the faintest glimmer in her eyes, a hint of the fiery mare I had known ere war and misery changed her. Her neck trembled as she slowly shook her head. I do not know what she meant by it—whether ‘twas a final defiant refusal to accept my words, or mayhaps a final acceptance of her own acts. Mayhaps in her final moments she wanted to convey her forgiveness. Or perhaps I simply wish to believe that.
My blade descended, and the Avatar of Nightmare Moon was no more.
Author's Note
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Aidan Hall
Whatever remained of my mother, if anything remained at all, died while I languished in an all-too-familiar cell beneath Canterlot Castle. It felt wrong to be so far away when she met her end, especially when I had played a part in bringing about her downfall. Much as I told myself that everything good within my mother died when the Avatar claimed her body, a part of me wanted to believe otherwise. The same part that had silenced my doubts when the Avatar presented her plans for Midnight Sparkle.
I had, perhaps, condemned myself and my sister to death by listening to that piece of my heart. Had I realized how far the Avatar had fallen just a few hours sooner, I would not have made myself a traitor twice over. Alas, I could not reverse time and undo mine actions. My brother was dead, my sister forced to become a kinslayer, and the two of us were likely condemned to execution. ‘Twas a sorry state indeed.
The cell door opened, and one of my jailers entered. “Food, oathbreaker.” I reached out to take the bowl of gruel, only for him to pull it away and slam a hoof into my gut. “Ah, it seems thou art too eager. This food is not yet fit for perfidious traitors who plot to murder innocent children.” He upended the bowl, dumping its contents onto the dungeon floor. “There. If thou wouldst eat, lick it up like the dog thou art. Be grateful we feed thee at all.” He struck me a few times, taking care to strike in places that would not leave obvious signs of mistreatment. As he walked out the door, he paused to shoot one final cruel smirk my way. “Thy mother’s head sits upon a pike adorning the gates of Canterlot. Perhaps we will be kind enough to set thine next to it. Family should stay together.”
I sat back, refusing to rise to the bait. After everything else I had suffered, a few cruel words and sharp blows from a nameless prison guard were barely worth mentioning. An empty stomach and a few hidden bruises were a small matter to a stallion awaiting his death. I only prayed my sister was not suffering similarly.
The days passed slowly in my cell, with nothing to do except ponder the fall of my clan and mine own pending execution. I began to wonder if perhaps they had forgotten about me, or were content to let me slowly rot away to nothingness.
After what seemed like an age, my cell door opened to a new face. Gale scowled down at me, sniffing pointedly. “You reek. Count yourself fortunate I realized you would. Your trial is set to begin in an hour’s time, and I want you to look as presentable as possible for it. As you are now, they would execute you for the offense to their nostrils alone.”
Gale led me out to the gardens, flanked by several Kicker guards. Once we were in place near one of the ponds and hidden behind a set of hedges, she unceremoniously shoved me into the cold water. “Be quick about it.”
I wasted no time removing the thick coat of grime my stay in the dungeons had left me with. If I was walking to mine execution, I could at least look somewhat respectable. I did the best I could with only cold water—I doubted any of the Kickers would offer me a razor, so shaving was out of the question.
Once I had done as much as possible, I risked a few questions. I knew little of what had passed in since my confinement beyond the obvious. “How goes the war?”
Gale frowned at me, but after several seconds relented. “The rebel army withdrew from Canterlot after the Avatar’s defeat. Rumor has it that their morale is on the verge of breaking, and a few earth pony communities have e’en requested a separate peace or outright declared for Celestia. I suspect the rumors are somewhat optimistic, though not without merit.”
Small surprise. Our supply situation had been tenuous before the Avatar’s fall, and after that Rightly would doubtless have thought it wiser to withdraw to winter quarters. He could spend the next few months allowing morale to recover and restructuring his army. Mayhaps he would e’en seek a foreign alliance. It made little difference—my part in this war had ended.
“My sister?” I asked.
“In better quarters than you,” Gale grunted out. “The degree of her guilt is less certain, and her time in the dungeons would have been far less pleasant.” Her eyes glanced to me and softened slightly. “You spared me much unpleasantness when I was your captive. ‘Twas only proper to return the favor. Past that ... thine own trial will likely set the tone for hers.”
I nodded, having already expected that to be the case. In truth, all I hoped to gain from the trial was the chance to clear her name, or at least spare her from death. I would gladly submit myself to whate’er fate Celestia wished so long as my sister lived.
Once I was cleaned and dressed in a simple grey robe of homespun wool, Gale led me towards the throne room. “‘Twill be a relatively private affair. Celestia herself will o’ersee it and render judgement, while Noble Quest, Greenwall, and Sunbeam advise her. I shall also be there speaking in Mother’s place.” Ere I could inquire, she clarified. “Mother has not yet fully recovered from the wounds she suffered battling the Avatar.”
“I see.” Grandmaster Quest would likely share his daughter’s hatred for me, given my role in the death of his son and daughter-in-law; Greenwall was not especially known to me, but Sunbeam ... I had kidnapped her daughter and given her o’er to the Avatar to be sacrificed. With that jury counseling Celestia on her verdict, I would probably count myself lucky if I could earn a clean death for myself and Dawn.
There was one other pony to consider: Gale herself. The mare had no reason to love me after what I had done, but ‘tween seeing to my sister and ensuring I would look presentable for my trial, she was the closest thing I had to an ally. E’en if she only aided me out of a sense of obligation, ‘twas still aid I sorely needed. If ‘twere her mother standing before me, the only aid I could have hoped for was a blade to end my dishonor ere the trial began. Though if ‘twould ensure that my sister did not join me in death, I would have accepted such an offer without a moment's hesitation.
Gale led me into the throne room. Celestia herself sat resplendent upon her throne, gazing down upon me in judgement. Her words carried the heavy weight of formality, despite the fact that ‘twas only the five of us in the room. “Dusk Charger, thou art called to account for thine actions and art accused of the crimes of perfidy and high treason. What is thine answer to these charges?”
I tried to meet her eyes and conduct myself with at least some dignity, but I do not think I succeeded. “I have no defense for mine actions and will accept whatever ruling is given to me. The only thing I wish to say is that Dawn was innocent in all of this—she knew nothing of my plans to commit perfidy or break mine oaths, or of the Avatar’s intentions towards young Midnight. As soon as she learned of these things, she attempted to free Midnight from the Avatar’s custody, at considerable risk to herself.”
Celestia frowned down at me. “Thou hast nothing to say in thine own defense, then?”
I closed mine eyes and nodded. “I am guilty of the crimes for which I stand accused. There is no excuse I could offer for mine actions. I am prepared to face justice.”
Noble Quest snorted, sparing a contemptuous glower for me. “At least this will be quick trial, then. Take his head and let us be done with it.”
“Aye.” Greenwall grunted out. “The law is clear enough. ‘Tis plain he hopes his confession will shield his sister.” He shrugged. “No matter. We shall consider her guilt at her trial, not his.”
Gale stepped forward. “I feel ‘twould be remiss not to state that for all his crimes, Dusk also provided us with information that was key to the defeat of the Avatar and the rescue of Midnight Sparkle. Were it not for his actions—”
“He revealed that information after my daughter captured him,” Noble countered. “When the Order hunts bandits and murderers, many of those we capture betray their fellows in the hopes that they will be spared punishment for their own crimes. The only difference here is that his crimes were the foulest I have e’er seen.”
Gale frowned and shook her head. “He willingly went to the palace, surrendered himself into custody and immediately volunteered the information along with a full confession, despite knowing the consequences of that. ‘Tis hardly the same, and we should bear that in mind while considering his sentence.”
“It changes nothing.” Greenwall stubbornly shook his head. “Whate’er other actions he might have taken do nothing to negate his crimes. We do not forgive thieves and murderers just because they give money to charity or are kind to their neighbors.”
“E’en if it is as you say, he knew the consequences, and now he will suffer them.” Noble shifted his gaze to Celestia, appealing directly to her. “Perhaps he does feel remorse for his actions. He most certainly should if there is any shred of decency left within him. Howe’er, that does not spare him from facing justice. No apology can restore life to those who have died by this traitor’s hooves. No regret can undo the harms he has wrought. The only thing we can offer the fallen is the assurance that justice shall be carried out this day.”
Gale refused to cede the argument. “If not for the information he provided, the city might well have fallen. I shudder to think what would have happened if the Avatar had been able to complete her dark ritual. Certainly, none of us would be in any position to stand judgement over this stallion.”
“Unlike you, I have faith enough in our soldiers to believe that they could have located the Avatar in time.” Noble turned and leveled an accusing hoof at me. “Let us not forget that the entire reason the Avatar was in a position to begin the ritual you speak of was because of Dusk Charger. ‘Twas he who contacted the traitors within our midst, and he who led the attack on Archmagus Sparkle’s tower and delivered her daughter into the Avatar’s hooves! Would you have us laud him for delivering us from a peril that he himself created?!”
Gale sighed and shook her head. “I do not deny the gravity of his crimes, but we cannot ignore the good he has done either.”
Greenwall shrugged. “Behead him, then. Faster than hanging, and ‘tis a warrior’s death rather than a criminal’s. Makes little difference to me. Dead is dead.”
“A hanging better suits his crimes.” Noble shot another poisonous look my way. “But if taking his head will end the matter and let us move on to other things, then so be it.”
Gale jabbed an elbow into my ribs. “Say something in thine own defense, fool! Dost thou care so little for thine own life?!”
I struggled to think of any response I could offer. In all truth, she was far more invested in keeping me alive than I was. I had known from the start that this would end with my death, and I had made peace with that. “What would you have me say? Everything they claim is true.”
Gale scoffed and turned her back on me. “If you insist on walking to your doom, I will not mourn you. I will settle whate’er debt remains by working in your sister’s defense, but I will not waste my time trying to save a stallion who does not wish to be...” She trailed off her eyes flicking to the side. “Sunbeam.”
“What of her?” I asked.
“She has said nothing,” Gale explained. “That is unlike her.” She turned away from me and cleared her throat. “I think we should not render judgement upon Dusk until all present have spoken. Archmagus Sparkle, what say you regarding Dusk’s fate?”
Sunbeam stepped forward, sparing a quick grimace for me ere she spoke. “Regardless of actions, both laudable and damning, we need him alive.”
“For what reason?” Noble demanded. “With all respect, Archmagus, rumor has it you almost gave him and his sister a summary execution when they were captured. What could have made you change your mind so radically in such a short time?
“When I threatened him with death, I was enraged by his actions,” Sunbeam answered smoothly. “That was nearly a week ago. Passions have cooled, and some of us are able to look at the situation rationally.”
She produced a map from within her robe, using her magic to lift it into the air and make it appear large enough that all could easily see it. “Secondly, the battlefield itself has changed. I am sure you will all be glad to hear that we can confirm the rumors. Fillydelphia’s pegasus garrison is dead of poisoned drink, and the city is once more in Celestia’s hooves.”
Small surprise. The city had only surrendered to avoid being taken by force and sacked. Now that the rebel cause was in shambles, they saw their chance to reassert their true loyalties. Losing the garrison to poison would have upset me far more were it not for the fact that ‘twas the Blades who held Fillydelphia. As it was, mine only concern was whether Swift had met his end with most of his clan or if he was still in hiding elsewhere.
Sunbeam continued. “While the bulk of the rebel army is proceeding to winter quarters in Manehattan, Rightly has split off a substantial portion of the clans’ strength in an effort to rally rebel-held communities near Fillydelphia and quash the uprising ere it spreads. He cannot afford to let this fester o’er the winter and encourage other loyalists to rise up against him, or else by next year’s campaign season he will need to reconquer half the earth ponies.”
Noble pointedly cleared his throat. “While this news is welcome and I would be glad to discuss the strategic implications of it later, I do not see how it is relevant to Dusk Charger’s fate.”
“Patience,” Sunbeam chided. “Withdrawing the best of the clans’ remaining strength has left the main rebel army critically weak in airpower, and far too reliant on earth pony militias that have little desire to continue the war. Rightly clearly believes the war is done for the year, or at least that we are unable to pursue his army.”
“With good reason,” Greenwall grunted. “Most of my soldiers are chomping at the bit to go home to families they have not seen since the siege began. Not to mention our food stocks are critically depleted with winter almost upon us. E’en with the siege broken, ‘twill be a struggle to keep the city fed until spring arrives.”
“We are all war-weary,” Sunbeam conceded. “But the enemy is e’en moreso. I spoke with Shadow shortly before we assembled, and she concurs that while there is considerable risk to launching a late fall offensive, the rebel army is far weaker now than they will be if we allow them months to recover and train.” The Archmagus nodded to Greenwall. “Swift Blade used his militia conscripts as expendable fodder, but Rightly has seen the martial skill earth ponies possess with proper leadership and training. Given several months peace to train, he will do his best to forge them into a force equal to yours. Not to mention the risk that he might seek foreign aid or supplement his forces with mercenaries.”
“So you hope to catch his army and destroy it, ending the war ere winter falls.” Noble frowned at the map, but slowly nodded. “A bold strategy, though I do not know if we could force the rebel army to battle ere the campaign season ends.”
Sunbeam smiled. “That is where the war intersects with the fate of the condemned. In order to reach Manehattan, the rebels will have to withdraw across Maresidian Fields—most notably, the major river crossing here, very near the territory of our dear friend Archmagus Mossy Banks. If the Archmagus deploys his forces to deny them the river crossing, he can delay the enemy long enough for our main force to fall upon their rear.”
Greenwall frowned as the rest of the pieces fall into place. “A large portion of Banks’ strength comes from the Stalker clan.”
“And by all indications, the Stalkers joined us because of Dusk’s seeming defection,” Sunbeam concluded. “It seems they were unaware of his perfidious plans. How they would take the revelation of his true loyalties and subsequent execution is ... unknown. We lose our chance to destroy the rebel army if they abandon our cause. Shadow is certain that Banks cannot hold the river crossing without his own pegasi, to say nothing of the risk that they might revert their loyalties entirely.”
Noble frowned at the map. “If the Stalker clan’s loyalty to our cause is so fickle, perhaps we should not rely on them for such a critical operation.”
Sunbeam shrugged. “If you can conjure a force of pegasi to replace them and instantly transport them to Banks’ side, then by all means.” She let the barb hang for a long moment ere she resumed. “We must make war with the army we have, not the army we wish for. Our battle plan cannot succeed without the Stalkers.”
“So take his head after the battle,” Greenwall proposed.
“That would be an option,” Sunbeam agreed, “if the battle was our only concern. Howe’er, there is also the matter of his clan to consider. Though I cannot confirm their numbers now, the Chargers were the largest of the clans when the war began. With the death of the Avatar, they are lost and leaderless, as the only one of her children not dead or captured is a child. I am sure that in due time the clan will appoint a successor, but none has emerged yet. Imagine the effect it would have upon the clan’s morale if the heir apparent publicly reaffirmed his loyalty to Celestia and called upon the rest of them to lay down their arms.”
“It accomplished little when he did so before,” Noble countered. “And I think his words will carry little weight once his clan learns of how flexible his loyalties have proven. Let alone the fact that he is a kinslayer now.”
“His words had far less impact while the Avatar lived. With her dead, and the depths of her corruption revealed...” Sunbeam shrugged. “It creates new possibilities. The Chargers are broken and leaderless now. If nothing else, executing the Avatar’s children might rally them under the flag of vengeance.”
“Shall we wait until the war is concluded in its entirety, then?” Noble scoffed and shook his head. “Or will we set aside any concern for what is honorable and proper, merely because you believe ‘twill make our victory come easier? E’en if you are not mistaken, I wonder what value our victory would have if we must spit in the face of justice to gain it.”
Greenwall grunted his agreement. “It sounds as if you would do more than just spare the perfidious bastard. Do you intend to set him up as the new head of the clan, despite his betrayal?”
“Hardly.” Sunbeam spared a contemptuous glance for me. “As you say, he is not reliable enough to hold command. I merely seek to avoid alienating vital allies or giving the enemy fresh reason to resist us at a critical moment in the war.”
“Let us suppose for a moment that your plans succeed,” Noble proposed. “What do you intend to do when the Chargers demand to be led by their new paterfamilias ?”
Gale snorted and shook her head. “If enough Chargers join our cause for us to be concerned with their desires, then the war will already be won.”
“Assuming they do not follow Dusk’s example,” Noble cut in acidly. “After this incident, I see little reason to trust any warrior of Clan Charger who claims to be loyal to the crown. Accept their surrenders, but I would not field any of them with our forces unless matters became truly desperate once more. I do not think any soldiers inclined to follow a leader of Dusk’s abysmal character would be worth recruiting in any case.”
Greenwall cleared his throat. “I have a question, Archmagus: how do our own forces address desertion and murder? Surely we cannot punish Dusk’s far worse crimes less harshly.”
Sunbeam scoffed and shook her head. “I grasp the point you are trying to make, but it has no relevance to the matter at hoof. Damaging our cause and extending the war simply on a point of honor or a legal technicality is foolish.” She turned to Noble. “You say we must do what is right? I would contend that the most moral course of action is to win this war and crush the rebellion with as few loyal lives lost as possible. If killing Dusk Charger would accomplish that, I would do it without hesitation. At the moment, doing so would have the opposite effect, and so I oppose his execution.”
“‘Points of honor and legal technicalities’?” Noble repeated incredulously. “He is a murderer! He is guilty of perfidy, one of the foulest violations of the laws of war imaginable! What would our soldiers say if we let him go unpunished?”
“What will they say if they find out you extended the war by another year merely for the satisfaction of lopping off his head?” Her eyes narrowed, venom entering her voice. “And that only concerns the soldiers who will still be able to speak. What will you tell the widows, orphans, and bereaved parents left behind? ‘Yes, your son died in a needless battle, but at least I was able to avenge myself on a helpless prisoner.’ I am sure that will be a great comfort to them as they mourn the fallen.”
“Be that as it may,” Greenwall maintained. “Dusk is far too prominent a prisoner to be forgotten, and his crimes far too infamous to be ignored. How will our own soldiers react when they learn that he shall be pardoned? When you release the militia to its homes for the winter, we will not forget the decision you make here. If Dusk is shown mercy, I wager many of my soldiers might not return in the spring.” He quickly raised a hoof. “I do not say this to threaten or insult, ‘tis merely the reality of the situation. ‘Twill be quite the struggle to raise them again as it stands, with how long and painful the siege was. Any further blow to their morale or the legitimacy of our cause will make the task ten times harder.”
“That suggests a simple solution,” Gale cut in. “If knowledge of his crimes would damage morale, then we should not make his crimes public.”
Noble blinked in shock. “You would suggest that we conceal the truth from our own soldiers? I, for one, will not be party to such a thing. I do not know what virtues they teach in Pegasopolis or amongst the magi, but the Order of Sol Invictus believes in honesty. I will ne’er lie to any of the knights under my command.”
“I do not ask you to lie to them,” Gale countered. “Merely to not volunteer the information. Only the ponies here, Mother, and her squire know of Dusk’s perfidy. We hardly need announce it to the world at large, and we can easily explain his confinement as a precautionary measure in light of the Avatar’s infiltration.”
Noble stood his ground. “A lie by omission is still a lie.”
“So do you tell your knights everything we discuss?” Sunbeam asked, her tone almost mocking. “Do you share with them all the intelligence we gain, no matter how secret? What about hidden weaknesses in our fortifications, or the fine details—”
“Your point is made, Archmagus,” Noble scowled at her. “I do not tell my knights everything , but you must concede that there is a substantial difference in this case.”
“I do not see it.” Gale shrugged. “It is a secret that would damage our cause, just the same as publicly revealing the names of mine agents within the rebel forces. I have trusted your discretion on matters of intelligence in past without issue.”
“So we just forget the ponies who died by his hooves?” Noble thundered, stomping up to her and glaring furiously. “Bad enough when you advised granting him mercy he did not show, but now the deaths of my son, his wife, and their unborn child will be entirely forgotten? He will not e’en bear the stain to his reputation for his crimes?” He whirled upon Sunbeam. “Can you truly pretend that this stallion did not pass your daughter to cultists so that they could sacrifice her to their dark mistress? How can you look him in the eye and not be o’erwhelmed by the urge to tear him asunder for what he did? Do you love your daughter so little?”
Sunbeam’s eyes narrowed, and her words seemed deceptively calm. “I faced down an entire coven of warlocks to save my daughter. I understand you are o’erwrought with grief on account of your recent losses, and for that reason alone I will ignore your words and not demand satisfaction. Howe’er, unlike you, I do not allow mine emotions to cloud my judgement. Yes, there is a part of me that wants nothing more than to listen as Dusk screams in agony for hours on end until I finally end his miserable existence. Howe’er, Equestria’s needs must come first.”
Noble said nothing, and I felt Gale’s elbow dig into my ribs. I took a deep breath, then faced Noble Quest. “Sir, I know you likely do not wish to hear anything I would say, but I am ... sorry for everything I have done. I knew what I was doing was wrong, but I believed that ‘twas the only way I could save my mother from a gruesome death. It was only after I had kidnapped Midnight that I learned the full depths of the Avatar’s depravity and finally admitted to myself that my mother died long ago. My family, my friends ... I had already lost so much to the war, and I could not bear the thought of losing my mother as well.”
I took a moment to gather my thoughts and master mine emotions ere I continued. “I do not say any of this to excuse mine actions, merely to explain them. ‘Twas desperation that drove me to do something I knew was wrong, not malice or depravity.” ‘Twas a struggle to meet his eyes, but I did so. “I am sorry for Nimbus’ death. I do not expect you will believe me, but I did mine utmost to spare her and she was killed against mine orders. ‘Tis a crime that will weigh on me for the rest of my days, however many of those I have. If by my death I could restore her and her child to life, I would ask for a blade and see to the matter myself.”
Noble held my gaze and frowned, but he said nothing. I hoped he believed me. Not because I felt ‘twould earn me mercy, but ... merely so he would know the truth. I owed him that much after the horrors I had inflicted upon his family. His mouth half-opened as though he was about to say something, but he turned his back on me ere I could learn whether he aimed to condemn me once more or ... something else. In all honesty, I do not know which I would have preferred. His forgiveness would have made my pain all the keener, for I had no right to ask it.
Silence fell upon the room, until at last Celestia cleared her throat. “Thank you all very much for providing your perspective on the issue. Howe’er, I believe I have made my decision.” Everyone turned to face her, and I waited to hear my doom. “Dusk’s crimes cannot be ignored and any other actions he might have taken do not remove them. By the same token, we cannot ignore that he attempted to undo the damage he caused, or the genuine remorse he has shown for his actions. Moreo'er, Sunbeam is correct that the war effort is better served by keeping him alive. He will be punished for what he has done, but that punishment will not be death. I know this will not satisfy all of you, but if I am in error on this matter I would rather err on the side of mercy.”
Noble was the first to respond, his voice thick with barely restrained emotion. “What sentence will you pass upon him, then?”
Celestia turned her attention from the court to address me directly. “Thou hast thy life, Dusk. I expect thee to spend it in atonement for all thou hast done. Thou hast not earned this mercy, it is my gift to thee, and one I expect to be repaid. I am sure it need not be said what will happen shouldst thou stray, e’en for a moment or in a seemingly minor way.”
She seemed to be waiting for me to respond, so I answered. “I understand.”
“Good.” She shifted her attention back to the room. “There is one other matter to be clarified: Dusk is clearly unsuited to lead his clan both because of his actions against the crown and the part he played in the death of his own brother. His sister is similarly tainted, and the only remaining child of Bright Charger is a child indeed, and still within rebel hooves. After consulting with Shadow, I feel that attempting to reconstitute the clan under new leadership loyal to the crown would not be a viable course of action.”
I blinked in shock as the full implications of her words sank in. “You mean...?”
“Clan Charger will vanish into the pages of history,” Celestia confirmed. “All rights, titles, and honors afforded to the clan and its members are defunct. Perhaps in time the name Charger will be remembered for the good it did, rather than the crimes it has committed in this war.”
I sank onto my haunches, scarcely believing mine own ears. Mine own death I had expected and accepted, but the end of my clan? The Charger clan was so ancient and venerable that its creation was the stuff of legend, shrouded in myth. We predated Celestia, Equestria, and e’en Pegasopolis itself. Some of the oldest histories of ponykind were tales of my clan’s exploits, the victories we had won against impossible odds. A legacy of thousands of years, stretching back to the dawn of time.
And now, all of that had been lost. With a few simple words, Celestia had undone it.
Because of me.
I could scarcely comprehend the horror of it. “My sister could...” The words died on my lips. Dawn was tainted by the same crimes I was, and e’en without that ... much as I loved my sister, she was a chirurgeon, not a warlord. “Shield could still...” My brother was not e’en old enough to be trusted with a properly sharpened blade, let alone leadership of the clan. “There must be some way we could...”
There wasn’t. It was over. My clan. Our legacy. Everything we had spent thousands of years building ... gone.
I would have preferred the headsmare’s axe to this mercy.
Archmagus Sparkle cleared her throat. “While the laws have not been fully drafted yet, I feel we should be clear about their likely form. This is more than just formally disbanding the clan’s organization; all former members of the clan are barred from bearing arms or armor without special dispensation from the crown. No members of the clan may wear or display anything indicating their former clan affiliation, including but not limited to symbols, heraldry, traditional clan slogans or battlecries, or the clan’s traditional colors.” She smiled, though there was no warmth in it. “You will also need to change your name.” (1)
1: The laws restricting clan identity would be relaxed several times, and ultimately repealed once enough time had passed that the prospect of the disbanded clans reconstituting and launching a new rebellion faded away.
They would not e’en let me keep my name?! The only thing Sunbeam could have done to more thoroughly end my clan would be to send every last member to the executioner’s block.
Noble nodded grimly. “If a knightly order raised their weapons against their queen, they would be disbanded. I see no reason the clans shouldn’t suffer the same fate.”
Greenwall grunted. “Will that happen to all the clans, then?”
“All those who are in open rebellion against the crown,” Sunbeam confirmed, nodding to Gale. “Naturally, the Kickers will be rewarded for their loyalty. As for the Stalkers...” She shrugged. “They were late in returning to the crown and did so for the wrong reasons, but they might well play a key role in winning the war for us. That should earn them a reprieve.”
All the clans, save two? This was the end of Pegasopolis ... which was no doubt precisely what she wanted. We had risen against Celestia, and Sunbeam aimed to ensure that we would ne’er do so again. I had expected Celestia would do something to prevent another uprising, but this... “Is there not another way? Have the clan leaders appointed by the crown, insist they swear loyalty oaths and atone for their actions, raise the clan’s children as hostages in Canterlot, anything?!”
“I have spoken on the matter,” Celestia declared with awful finality. “I believe that concludes our business. I bid you all good day.”
Noble bowed to the throne. “By your leave, Your Majesty.” Greenwall followed close on his heels. I was much slower in leaving the room, the weight of my sins and the terrible price Celestia had exacted for them all but crushing me.
A part of me could not even grasp the sheer enormity of it. Mine entire life ... everything I was from my very first memories ... it had all been part of the clan. Now ‘twas not only gone, but I was not e’en allowed to keep anything to remember it by. Doubtless they would see e’en a small memento or two as a sign I planned to rebuild the clan and turn it against the crown.
I did not leave the throne room until Gale all but pulled me out. I stumbled forward like one of the undead, my body scarcely remembering how to function.
Gale’s voice tore me out of my stupor. “Thank you for your assistance, Archmagus.”
I turned to face the both of them. “Why did you defend me?” I aimed the question at Sunbeam more than Gale, though in truth I was curious how both would answer.
In any case, Sunbeam was the one to answer me. “It is as I said. You live because I want to win the war, and killing you would impede that. If ‘twere merely a matter of my personal desires, with no thought to the good of Equestria...” A cruel smile formed on her lips. “Neigh, e’en then I think I would let thee live. I saw the look in thine eyes when Gale led thee into the courtroom. Thou wert prepared to die for thy crimes, nobly lay down thy life in hopes of sparing thy sister and finding in death the redemption that will fore’er elude thee in life.” She chuckled coldly. “Celestia said she was giving thee mercy when she spared thee. I think she was mistaken in that regard. Killing thee would be the true mercy. Instead, thou shalt live to see thy clan broken, thy family in tatters, and for all the rest of thy days thou wilt know that ‘tis because of thee. I could spend hours drawing out thy death, but this torment shall last a lifetime. I can think of no better fate to condemn thee to.”
She stepped past me, as if I were naught but an insect beneath her notice. I certainly felt as pitiful as one.
I turned to Gale. “And you?”
Her eyes narrowed. “You spared me considerable unpleasantness when the rebels captured me. There was a debt of honor to be repaid, and unlike you I value my honor. The matter is closed, and I am glad to be quit of you.”
She began to walk away, but I felt compelled to call out after her. “Gale! I ... I lied to you about my defection, my loyalties, and many other things. When I spoke of my feelings for you ... there was no lie in that.”
She turned to face me, her countenance an expressionless mask. ‘Twas some time ere she spoke, and when she did her voice was heavy with restrained emotion. “I believe you. That makes the pain of your betrayal all the keener.” She turned her back on me, I suspect because she could not bear to look at me any longer. “And ... after everything you have done I would be well within my rights to hate you. I should hate you e’en more keenly than Sunbeam or Noble. I think ... I think a part of me does. But another part is ... I did not wish to see you die. Not because of duty or honor or obligation, but...” She did not finish the sentence, but I grasped her meaning well enough. Despite her best efforts to hide it, I heard the faintest hint of tears in her voice. “That is the greatest pain of all. That despite everything...”
On any other day, knowing of her feelings might have been a comfort in dark times. Today, it just felt like another dagger rammed into my heart.
With the trial done, I returned to quarters I had been given ere I betrayed Celestia, though the guard outside my door was a new addition. It felt strange to return to the place, almost exactly as I had left it. The personal effects taken from me when I was arrested waited on a table, save for my weapons and armor. Those would likely ne’er be returned to me, given the laws Sunbeam intended to oppose on the clans. Clearly I would need to find some other profession.
I fell onto a bed far more comfortable than the dungeon cell I had occupied for the last several days, and soon fell into an exhausted, dreamless sleep.
It seemed like my head had only just settled upon the pillow when I heard voice outside my door. I could not make out what they were saying, but it seemed reasonably likely that they concerned me in some way. I rose from bed and made a few token efforts to appear at least somewhat presentable in case my visitor was someone important.
Shadow’s squire strode into my quarters a short time later, shutting the door behind her. “Dusk Charger! Present thyself!”
I entered the living area and walked up to the young mare, already suspecting her reason for being here. “Do you have a message from Shadow?”
She glowered at me. “Neigh, I am here of mine own accord.” I fully expected the blow she struck across my cheek, rolling with it by instinct. “Dusk Charger, thou hast wronged me and my family. I demand satisfaction from thee in juris ungula !”
A duel. I thought of pointing out that she was going against her queen’s wishes, but she doubtless knew that already. This was a matter of family honor, something I was all too familiar with after mine own errors. “I decline.”
“You ... decline?” Her fury briefly faded into bewilderment before multiplying tenfold. “You killed my brother, and slew my sister and her unborn foal with an act of perfidity. I demand satisfaction. Arm yourself!”
“I will not.” I sighed and spoke words I doubted she was in any mood to hear. “I know ‘twill not make up for all that I have done, but you have my deepest apologies.”
Several emotions flashed across White’s face before she settled upon outrage. “You apologize?! After all you have done, all the lives you have stolen, you think a few empty words have any meaning? You could apologize from now to the end of time, and ‘twould not begin to make up for all the evil you have done.”
“I know.” I sighed and bowed my head. “If you want my life, I have no right to deny it to you.”
White drew a blade and hurled it at my hooves. “Then arm yourself and face me in battle. ‘Tis a more honorable death than you deserve, but ‘tis still a death.”
I sighed and picked it up. White drew her own in response, leveling the point at me. “Ready yourself, fiend.”
I made no effort to do so. “Go ahead.”
White jabbed at me, and I made a token effort to parry the blow. The match continued for a short time, but only because White seemed to suspect my near-total failure to defend myself must be some sort of ruse. Once mine intent was plain, she hurled her blade down with a frustrated roar. “Do you mock me?! Fight, damn you!”
Did she truly want to face me in battle? If so, I could not grant her request. The very thought of truly fighting her filled me with disgust, and as I looked at the young mare who wanted me dead, all I could feel was terrible remorse for mine actions, and pity for her. “I will not fight you. I have hurt you and your family enough already.” I dropped the blade to the floor.
“Pick it up!” She demanded. “Have you no honor?!”
“No,” I confessed.
White roared in wounded fury, charging me with her blade outstretched. I fully expected her to cut me down, but her blade halted inches from my throat. Frustrated tears sprang to life in her eyes, and she hurled the weapon away. “Damn you! Damn you to the lower pit of Tartarus! You are a coward, a traitor, and the lowest of all villains!” She stomped away from me, picking up her blade and cleaving it through one of the tables with an enraged howl. “You have taken everything else away from me, and now I cannot e’en have my vengeance?!”
I knew I should say something. Perhaps some profound words of wisdom that would sweep away her pain and let her make peace with the deaths that had fallen upon her family. I knew the pain of losing a beloved sibling all too well. There were no words that could cure the agony I had inflicted upon her, though I dearly wished there were.
I spoke honestly, for it was all I could do. “The deaths I have caused haunt me, and I will ne’er forgive myself for the terrible cost of my mistakes. If my death could restore your brother to life, I would gladly make that trade.”
White’s legs trembled beneath her, and she sank down into one of the chairs ere they failed completely. “What have we done to deserve this? My brother and his wife were good ponies. Why did they have to die? Why did you have to start this horrid war?”
I sighed and took the seat opposite her, for I was far too weary to stand any longer. “We thought we were doing the right thing. I believed I was fighting for a better Equestria. Bringing honor to my family. Saving my mother from certain death...”
“‘Doing the right thing’?” White repeated incredulously. “Does this feel like the right thing?! Does this feel like justice?!”
“No,” I admitted. “Nothing about this is right.”
White sank down in her seat, staring at the table. “What am I supposed to do now? My brother is dead ... for nothing.” She shook her head and threw one last glare at me, though ‘twas not nearly so heated as her prior looks. “I hope that you live in the pain and infamy you deserve, Dusk the Clanless. I will not kill an unarmed and unresisting stallion, but do not mistake this for forgiveness. There are no words you can speak, no eloquent apology you can offer, that will e’er diminish the horror of your crimes.”
“I know.” I sighed and rose from my chair. “But it is the only thing I can offer you. I am sorry.”
I walked out of the room, leaving her there.
I sought out the only thing of value left to me in this world. My sister. As Gale had promised, she was being held within the palace in far better quarters than I had enjoyed. One might have mistaken her for an honored guest if they did not realize that the guards outside her door were jailers. As Gale had sent word ahead of me, and they let me pass.
Dawn lay upon a simple mattress in quarters that were relatively bare by unicornian standards, likely something that had belonged to a servant before it became her cell. Her back was to the door, and she did not turn to face me when I entered. A bowl of stew sat untouched on the table, cold enough that it must have been there for some time.
I cleared my throat. “Dawn? ‘Tis I.”
My sister’s head snapped up, and she spun about to face me. “Dusk? Thou .... Thou art alive?” She clambered out of bed and rushed to my side, wrapping me in a fierce embrace. We held each other for a time, ere she broke it and backed away from me. “Art thou ... this is a final visit before they take thee to the execution field, aye? At least they allowed us that much: I feared I would ne’er e’en be able to bid thee farewell.”
I shook my head and hugged her again. “No, Dawn. The trial is finished, and ... we will live.”
Dawn blinked, her jaw hanging open in shock. “What? That is ... I cannot believe it. Truly? That is ... it seems impossible. Like something from a dream. I was certain that I would lose thee as well.”
I wondered if she would still be so happy when she learned the rest of it. “I think we owe our lives to the Stalkers. Celestia’s forces need them for the coming battle, and killing us might turn the Stalkers against them. But ... that mercy came at a price. Neither of us can lead the clan, and it seems ... that Celestia no longer believes...” I struggled to find the right words, for nothing I could think to say captured the enormity of the sentence passed ‘gainst us.
The barest ghost of a smile had begun to grace Dawn’s lips, but it faded away as she gazed upon my countenance. “What? What did she do?”
“I am...” I closed mine eyes and took a deep breath to steady my nerves. “Celestia and her advisors no longer trust me to lead the clan. Worse, it seems I have persuaded them that they cannot rely on any former rebels to lead the clans once the war is done.”
Dawn frowned, her head slowly cocking to the side. “That is madness. Every clan has its head, ‘tis the way of things. I suppose ‘tis not surprising they do not wish for thee to lead, but ... do they think to name Shield then? I know the unicorns sometimes appoint children to their noble houses, but if they think the clan would follow that ... neigh, ‘twould have to be someone else from within the clan. But who? All our officers remained loyal to mother. I suppose a common soldier or two might have defected earlier in the war, but they could hardly lead the clan. Without a strong leader, the clan would cease to exist!”
I sighed and mine eyes fell to the floor. “Precisely.”
Dawn staggered back as though struck as the full weight of my words sank home. “Neigh. That ... no. She cannot...”
“She has.” I settled next to her. “We will need to decide upon new names. I would suggest thou speakest with Shadow. Thy sire was of her clan, and mayhaps—”
“Never.” Dawn snatched one of the pillows off her bed, hugging it to her chest. “Let them hang me if they please, but I will live my life a Charger. I will not dishonor the memory of our sister and brothers by abandoning our name, or by taking the name of Lance’s killer.”
I suppose I should have expected she would say as much. Pity, for life would be kinder to Dawn Kicker than it would be to the same mare under any other name. “I admit, when they announced the sentence I was tempted to ask for the axe instead.”
Dawn could not meet mine eyes as she asked. “Perhaps ... I hate to speak such cruel words, but why didst thou not?”
I grimaced and shook my head. “Because the clans would be broken regardless of our fate. The simple fact that the clans were able to oppose the throne and nearly break it proves that we are far too powerful. Once the war is done, Celestia and Sunbeam will not allow the clans to exist in any form that could rise up again.”
“But we must endure!” Dawn insisted, though I could see in her eyes that she knew her words were futile. “We must ... for all that we have lost, there must be something more than ... than...”
“We have our lives, and each other,” I told her, wrapping a wing around her. “That is something. I feared that I had signed thy death warrant by leading thee into perfidy with me. Knowing that I still have my sister ... I do not think I could endure this alone.”
She leaned against me, though more out of exhaustion than affection. “I wish thou hadst slain me. ‘Twould have been kinder.” Her eyes fell to the ground, and her voice came out almost dull and lifeless. “This is ... this my doing. If I had saved Lance, she would have brokered a truce, and Mother would not ... none of this would have happened. It is ... it is all my fault.”
I grimaced and shook my head. “If I had not gone along with the Avatar’s scheme and damned us both in Celestia’s eyes ... If Mother had not given into temptation and become the Avatar ... if ... I think there is blame enough for many to share in it.”
“Perhaps.” Neither of us said anything for some time, holding one another as we tried to grasp how far we had fallen. “What will we do?”
“I do not know,” I confessed.
“I hope thou canst find something to bring thee joy.” She tried to smile, but we were both far too miserable for her to make a convincing show of it. “I do not suppose Celestia will grant another audience this day?”
“I am sure you could ask for one.” I sighed. “Howe’er I do not believe she will change her mind.”
“Neigh, likely not.” She slumped against me. “I would simply ask her for an end. If that is to be our fate, I do not wish to live to see it.”
“Dawn ... no.” I gripped her shoulders, looking into her eyes. “I will not lose thee. I have buried our mother, our brothers, and our sister. I will not bury thee too. Do not leave me alone in this world, sister.”
“I cannot endure this.” She met my gaze, her eyes so dead she could not e’en muster tears. “Please let me go.”
“Do not ask that of me.” I clutched her to my chest. “E’en if we have lost everything else, we still have one another. Shield too, if we can recover him from the rebels.”
Dawn slowly put her head on my shoulder, letting me hold her. “I would welcome thy company if thou wouldst stay for a time.” She nodded to her untouched meal. “The fare is cooled, but it should taste well enough. I am not hungry.”
Even cold, the sight of the stew my sister had neglected tempted me. It had been far too long since I had enjoyed a proper meal. Even when the dungeon guards did not make sport of wasting my meals, gruel was hardly satisfying. I sat at the table and attacked her meal with gusto. On any other day I likely would have considered it to be of middling quality at best, but I was hungry enough to enjoy it. Indeed, that meal brought me the first joy I had known since mine imprisonment, howe’er fleeting it was.
If a single miserable bowl of stew could make me happy, perhaps not all was lost. My clan lay in tatters, the legacy of mine ancestors lost, but ... I could still find joy in life’s simple pleasures. A small comfort, but better than none. “We will survive this, sister.”
“So we will.” She sighed and settled back onto the bed, rolling onto her side. “So we will.”
Author's Note
As always, thanks to my pre-reading and editing team for all their hard work. Also, I would like to thank all my dedicated Patreon supporters. You guys are awesome.
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Aidan Hall
‘Twas irksome to spend the days after my victory o’er the Avatar in convalescence, e’en though the need to do so was undeniable. I had suffered many grievous wounds in my final clash with the Avatar, and e’en the Commander could only do so much to hasten my healing.
Missing the festivities when the siege finally broke, while irksome, was a minor irritant. Mine absence from the halls of power at a critical point in the war upset me far more. Though Gale and Sunbeam visited often enough to consult with me, being heard indirectly made a poor substitute for being physically present, discussing plans with the Commander and her subordinate.
The consequences of Dusk’s perfidy weighed most heavily upon me. His betrayal had left my plans of rebuilding the clans of Pegasopolis under new leadership in shambles. Without a viable loyal leader to take charge of a single clan, we had no choice in the matter. A weak clan leader with no legitimacy would be seen as little better than a Unicornian puppet, and the clans would not suffer remaining under a foreign yoke. It would not be peace, merely a short truce ere the new generation began the war once more.
There was only one solution. If the clans could not be tamed, they would have to be broken.
I should have been there when Gale and Sunbeam announced it. Alas, the Commander insisted I remain at rest for a few days more. I suspect that she would have insisted I absent myself from the upcoming campaign as well, if she could have.
Thankfully, I could put my time at rest to good use poring o’er maps and intelligence reports to plan out what would hopefully be the last battle of the war. Steel and Rightly had either made a critical error or simply underestimated the risks we were willing to take. Going on the offensive in late autumn with Canterlot still critically low on supplies would end very badly for us if the battle at Maresidian Fields was anything less than a complete victory. If Steel managed to deny us our victory, we would lose much of the momentum gained from the Avatar’s death, and the late-season campaign would leave Canterlot all but stripped of supplies with winter coming.
Howe’er, war has always been a matter of calculated risk. The opportunity to win the war with a single decisive stroke was simply too tempting to ignore. I had no desire to carry on the war for another year, and Dusk had destroyed whate’er slim hope there might have been for a negotiated settlement. Persuading Rightly and Steel to stand down and surrender clan leadership to a successor would have been difficult enough. Now that the clans would not survive the war...
I set aside the maps with a heavy sigh. I would perhaps have fallen into melancholic brooding, had I not noticed the unexpected guest in my room. Young Midnight sat at my bedside, completely silent and with her nose buried in a book. I suppose it should have come as a surprise to see the young child had entered my private quarters, but by this point she had done so frequently enough that I had almost come to expect it.
Midnight must have noticed my gaze upon her, as she slowly set aside her book to give me her full attention. “Greetings, Lady Shadow. I hope I did not disturb you. Mother becomes most irate when she is in the midst of some project and I interrupt her train of thought. She will likely already be upset with me for leaving my quarters, e’en though she is not there on account of meeting with Her Majesty. Still, I would not anger her or you further.”
I decided to assuage the child’s fears before anything else. “I am not upset with thee, though I think ‘twould be best to let thy mother know where thou art ere she becomes concerned.” With Midnight’s capture fresh in her memory, it would likely be many years ere Sunbeam would be at ease when her daughter was out of sight. I jotted down a quick note for the mare, letting her know that Midnight was with me and all was well. “Have White deliver this to thy mother.”
Midnight nodded glumly, then trotted out to pass the letter to my squire. She returned shortly, looking like a prisoner expecting execution. “Mother will be most unhappy when she learns I left my quarters without her permission. I expect she will punish me.”
“Likely so,” I agreed, not as sympathetic to her plight as I would otherwise be. My voice took on the stern, lecturing tone I normally reserved for when I caught a few young clanponies getting up to mischief. “Surely it should come as no surprise that she does not want you gallivanting about the palace unsupervised so soon after recent events. Why wouldst thou do something that thou must knowest would upset thy mother?”
Midnight bit her lip, shrinking down and dropping her eyes to the floor. “It was not my desire to cause her distress. But I had heard you were badly wounded while rescuing me, and Mother would not tell me enough. I ... I wished to see you.”
“Ah.” I felt rather churlish for lecturing her, now that I knew ‘twas concern for me that prompted her disobedience. Not that it excused her actions, but I would have to be a truly heartless mare to not be e’en a little touched by her worries. “I thank thee for thy concern. My wounds are healing quickly and cleanly, and I am otherwise well enough.”
“That is good to hear.” Midnight nodded firmly, her eyes drifting to the bandage on my leg. “I would be most displeased if your wounds turned gangrenous, the flesh blackening and rotting away as you lay in bed, helpless to prevent the slow failure of your own body. I have heard that is a slow, lingering, and incredibly painful way to die, and I do not wish for that to happen to you after you saved me.” She frowned, shifting a bit closer to my bedside. “I ... wish to thank you for that. I did not wish to be sacrificed in a dark ritual by the Avatar, my lifesblood slowly leaking out upon the altar as my very essence was torn asunder to provide whate’er dark purpose she had in mind for me.”
“There is no need to thank me,” I assured her. “I could not call myself an honorable warrior of Pegasopolis if I left thee in peril.”
Midnight grimaced. “And yet, many of the so-called honorable warriors of Pegasopolis were eager to aid the Avatar in my murder.” She frowned and shook her head. “But I did not come here to complain about the poor conduct of your fellow pegasi. I came here to thank you, e’en if you do not believe thanks are required. You were badly hurt doing so.” She scraped a hoof across the floor, looking down at it. “I did not wish to see you wounded on mine account.”
“I suffered nothing that cannot heal,” I assured her. “With both the Commander and thy mother aiding me, I am already nearly recovered. If I had failed to save thee, I would have suffered far worse pain than anything my current injuries bring. ‘Twas my pleasure to know that thou art safe and alive because of mine actions.”
“I am glad for that too.” Her cheeks flushed, and her eyes dropped to the floor. “Though I know not how I can repay you for my life.”
“Thou needst not worry thyself on that account,” I murmured. “I did not save thee to incur a debt. Though by all means, should the opportunity arise to do so, feel free to return the favor.” Not that I expected the opportunity to e’er arise, but it seemed a harmless enough things to say to salve the child’s pride.
Midnight nodded, a contemplative frown on her face. “Very well then. I will save your life from some horrible mortal peril in due time.” (1) She fell silent, her eyes staring past me to the window o’er my shoulder. I had begun to wonder if she was completely lost within her own thoughts when she finally broke her silence. “May I ask you a question?”
1: Midnight did eventually pay the favor back, albeit many years later.
“Of course.” I braced myself for what would almost surely be an uncomfortable inquiry.
Young Midnight slowly blinked, a faint grimace slowly working its way onto her face. “What was it like the first time you killed?” Her head slowly cocked to the side. “I have seen death before on account of this war, but this was the first time I was directly responsible for it. During the ritual to spill out my lifesblood, tear open my body, and send my soul hurtling and screaming into the abyss to power an unspeakable abomination. Mine own magic surged out of control when Mother disrupted the ritual, conjuring massive spears of ice that tore through flesh and bone as the warlocks screamed in agony.”
Ah. I had assumed all the death in that chamber was the result of her mother’s actions—hardly unreasonable, under the circumstances. “Thou didst what was required to save thine own life,” I assured her. “The warlocks would not have shown thee any mercy. ‘Twas only fitting that thou didst respond in kind.”
She frowned thoughtfully, nodding after several seconds. “Aye, Mother said much the same when I asked her. Though I think we were not in accord on the matter of killing. She said that when she first killed, she felt nothing beyond a sense of satisfaction at eliminating an enemy. I ... do not feel that way. I was glad to no longer be in danger, but I do not think I like causing death, e’en to those who deserve it. Am I wrong to feel that way?”
“Not at all,” I assured her, struggling not to show mine annoyance with Sunbeam. “We all react differently to our first time in battle. In all honesty, I was so frightened in my first battle that I had no time to reflect upon mine actions, and afterwards I was merely glad to be alive.” I thought it best not to mention that after the battle I had bedded one of my squadmates to deal with the roil of emotions. Midnight was far too young for such things.
“I see.” She frowned, staring up at the ceiling. “I understand that. I am certainly very happy to be alive as well. And it seems Mother at least approves of mine actions, which is no small relief.” She hesitated, worrying at her lower lip. “Mother has been acting ... different since my return. When I asked for new books she bought all of them, and she has allowed me far more dessert than I normally receive. She also insists on keeping a close eye on me, but that is more understandable after I was nearly murdered.”
Sunbeam’s mild spoiling of her daughter came as no surprise under the circumstances. In fact, it inclined me to follow suit. I moved o’er in the bed, making room for her and opening my wounded wing. Midnight blinked slowly and stared up at me, cocking her head to the side. Once ‘twas plain she would not act on her own, I shifted o’er and wrapped the wing around her, pulling her to my side.
As she came nearer to me, I noted the snowflake now adorning her haunch. “So thy magic has fully manifested?”
“It has.” A small smile ghosted across her lips, only to vanish a few moments later. “It ... happened when I killed the warlocks. I am not sure I care for the implications of that timing, though I suppose ‘twas a feat of considerable magical prowess.”
“That much is true,” I agreed. Given her macabre inclinations, I was not entirely shocked to find that her magic had fully manifested in the presence of death. If anything I was surprised her talents were not equally ghoulish. “Well, regardless of the details, I suppose congratulations are in order.”
“My thanks.” Midnight nodded, then drew herself up in an effort to look much more mature and adult than she actually was. “Mother has promised to hold the customary celebration once the war is finished.” She paused thoughtfully. “I do not know what traditions are observed in Pegasopolis, but among unicorns it is customary to celebrate when one obtains their cutie mark. In addition to the celebration itself, all of my close friends and family will provide me with gifts to mark the occasion.” She said nothing more, letting that final remark linger rather pointedly.
I was hardly blind to what she was none-too-subtly hinting at, but decided to leave her request unanswered for the moment. “Hopefully, thy mother and I will put the war to an end ere winter arrives. If we do not, I imagine there will be time enough for it then.” Presuming we did not all starve, of course.
“That would be good ... though that would mean I might have to wait several months to receive my customary gifts and celebration. It seems improper to flout long-established tradition in that manner.” She paused, then sighed a bit too melodramatically to be genuine. “Though I do fear that my gifts may pale in comparison to those of my peers. I have so few close friends, and Mother is mine only family. ‘Twould be most upsetting to reach one of the greatest milestones of my life, the day when my full magical potential is unlocked and I begin the path to adulthood, only to find that I have no one to celebrate it with and no presents to open.”
“Well, Gale and I shall certainly be there.” I paused, then added with a knowing smirk, “And as ‘tis the custom of Unicornia, we shall of course bring appropriate gifts.”
This time the smile lingered a bit longer on Midnight’s lips. “That is good to hear ... even if I must wait a terrible period of time for the occasion to be marked. Normally, the celebration is held as soon after the event as can be reasonably arranged.”
“I am sure thou wilt endure.” To my credit, I avoided the temptation to allow any hint of sarcasm or mockery in my tone.
Young Midnight sighed heavily. “That is what Mother has told me as well. And I suppose that in light of recent events, this is not the most terrible thing that has happened to me. I think being strapped down upon a dark altar and having my chest torn open, my still-beating heart extracted before my very eyes ere my life’s essence went to feed a dark abomination would be e’en worse than having the celebration delayed.” She glanced up at me shyly. “I suppose that my life is the greatest gift you could offer me. Still ... if you do not think it churlish for me to ask...”
“As I said, Gale and I will provide something suitable.” In all honesty, there was something refreshing about the thought that soon I would need to worry about simple things like what gift to buy for a child. It had been far too long since I had allowed myself the luxury of concerning myself with such mundane things. “At least this mad war is almost over.”
“I hope so.” Midnight’s gaze fell to the floor. “I do not like war. It has very little in common with what I read about in my books. The sooner Pegasopolis is destroyed, the better.”
I could not help flinching at that remark. Midnight noted my reaction, her head tilting to the side as she turned a confused frown upon me. “You seem upset. Did I say something to cause offense? Is not Pegasopolis our enemy in this war? Is not the purpose of war to destroy our enemies so utterly that they may never threaten us again?”
She was correct on both those points. Howe’er... “I had not planned to preside o’er the destruction of my homeland.”
Midnight’s frown deepened. “Is it still your homeland? Did you not go into voluntary exile rather than join them in usurping Her Majesty? Have you not fought against them in this war? Has your clan not settled in Canterlot? Surely this is your homeland now?”
I closed mine eyes and took a deep breath. “Aye, I suppose ‘tis. When we began this exile, I told myself ‘twas but a temporary thing. That we would return to our old homes and our old lives once this war was finished and Pegasopolis regained its senses. Now ... after Dusk’s actions, it seems we have no choice but to break the clans. We can hardly retain the clans under loyal leadership if there are no loyal leaders to be found.”
Midnight scowled and nodded sharply. “I am sure you could find ponies who would swear loyalty to Celestia, but the clans broke those oaths before, and I see no reason to think they would not do so again. Their claims of honor are suspect when they willingly break their oaths, violate the laws of war, and make common cause with warlocks.”
I was almost compelled to argue that not all of Pegasopolis was responsible for those acts, but saying that to a child who had nearly been murdered by Pegasopolis’ leader hardly seemed worthwhile. E’en without all those points, the simple truth was that the clans would ne’er accept being conquered by an outsider, and after this war they would surely see Celestia as a foreign oppressor. The only question would be whether the clans would immediately rise once their numbers and morale recovered, or if they would wait until Equestria was weak to stab it in the back. That was a question I had no intention of e’er learning the answer to. “And so there is no future for the clans. I know why it must be done, but ... I ne’er thought I would preside o’er the end of Pegasopolis. The destruction of mine own people.”
“Ah.” Midnight nodded slowly, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. “I think I can understand why you are so disquieted. Do you regret your actions, then? Do you wish that you had turned upon Her Majesty and remained loyal to Pegasopolis?”
There was no hesitation in mine answer. “No. The clans were wrong to turn against her, and I was right to stand by her. Mine only regret is that I could not dissuade them from their course.”
Midnight followed with another question. “Were your actions to your clan’s benefit?”
“I certainly hope so.” The fact that by war’s end we would be the only major clan to survive certainly bore that out. Though the Stalkers would also survive as a clan, they did not have anywhere near my clan’s numbers and likely would not receive as many privileges. (2)
2: The Stalker clan gradually lost its clan identity over the next several centuries, with the remnant eventually being absorbed into the Kicker clan.
Midnight met mine eyes. “If you believe that Pegasopolis has launched an unjust war and your actions were for the best of your clan, then surely you acted appropriately. That at least aligns with the lessons on logic Mother has given me. If your actions can be justified both ethically and practically, then I cannot see where a wrong can be done.”
I took heart from her words. “Would that all others saw as clearly as thou dost.”
“Aye, that is a pity,” Midnight agreed with the unintentional egotism of the young. “I think the world would be much better off if that were so.”
I chuckled and ruffled her mane, eliciting an annoyed grumble from the fastidious young mare. “A word of advice, young Midnight. While thou art so certain of thine own wisdom and knowledge, I advise writing it down. Once thou art older, thou wilt realize that the answers thou wert once so certain of now elude you, and the world is far more complicated than thou didst e’er realize as a child.”
Midnight nodded, seeming utterly serious. “I do. That is why I keep a journal.” (3)
3: Midnight was an obsessive journal-keeper, maintaining them from before the war to a few days before her death. Among other things, those journals served as the basis for her own quite extensive memoirs.
“I see. Very good. If there is nothing else…?” I nodded pointedly to the large stack of maps and reports I had been slogging through ere she arrived.
Midnight glanced back at my papers, and her countenance fell. “Oh ... Aye, of course you must see to your duties. I will leave you to your work, and cease disturbing you.”
I could hardly remain unmoved by such a crestfallen face. “I suppose ‘twould be best if thou didst remain here so that thy mother can find thee easily enough. If thou dost not disturb me, thou canst remain.”
Midnight’s eyes brightened. “I have much experience at not disturbing those around me. Mother almost ne’er complains that I distract her from her work.”
“Very well then.” I turned mine attention back to the maps, but once more idly draped my wing o’er the young mare. She smiled contently, making herself comfortable against my side but otherwise remaining silent as I worked. Despite saying nothing, her presence was ... calming. If nothing else it reminded me exactly what we were fighting for.
I was impressed by how swiftly we were able to muster our army and pursue the remaining rebels. Of course, that was in no small part thanks to our terrifying lack of preparation. Our supply lines were all but nonexistent, as were our stocks. Our soldiers carried enough rations in their packs to reach our chosen battlefield, but ‘twould be difficult to bring any more should matters go awry. There would be no more bolts for our crossbows once the archers emptied their quivers, and no material or expertise to repair damaged weapons or armor. An army that operated on a razor thin margin of error, and deceptively fragile.
But nonetheless, an army. Mossy Banks’ forces played their own to perfection, contesting the river crossing and leaving Steel’s army trapped at Maresidian Fields as mine own army came up behind him. Our position was perilous, but his was no better.
The late autumn weather was unseasonably warm as we closed the trap, the sun beating down upon all three armies. In truth, the river Steel’s army would have to cross was more akin to a mud-filled depression with a small stream. The mud was still more than enough of a barrier to halt his advance, and the unseasonably dry heat likely sapped the morale of his forced e’en further. The rebel army’s effort to drown Canterlot in constant rain had left all Maresidian Fields an arid plain full of dead grass.
Despite our advantages I was less than eager to begin the battle. War is e’er uncertain, and with mine own army so vulnerable I could imagine far too many ways the tide could turn against us. A single moment of ill luck could turn my bold stroke to end the war into a foolish risk that cost us everything we had gained from the Siege of Canterlot. Far better if we could persuade Steel to lay down his arms without a fight, e’en if it required generous terms.
‘Twas that hope that drew me to the tent of the stallion who had once been Dusk Charger. To his very slight credit, he had played his part in the farce Sunbeam had saved his life for it. The Stalkers knew nothing of his betrayal, and had done their part in securing the river ‘gainst Steel’s army. Since then he had largely remained within his tent, brooding o’er his freshly blackened armor stripped of his clan’s iconography.
I found him in such a state when I entered his tent, and wasted no time indulging his mood. “Dusk. I may have a use for thee.”
He sighed wearily, turning to me with resignation in his eyes. “Very well, Lady Protector. What do you require of me?”
“Steel is your father, correct?”
Dusk hesitated ere he answered. “He ... was the one who sired me, yes. Whether I could call him a father is another matter entirely. I cannot recall more than one or two occasions when we shared anything more than a few passing words. In all likelihood, you know him far better than I do.”
That news came as no surprise, given how Bright had conducted herself and raised her children. “He is still thy sire, regardless. That may be of use in negotiating his surrender.”
Dusk grimaced and shook his head. “If you think he will surrender...” He sighed. “Mother always said he was far too stubborn to ever give up once he set his mind to a task. So did Bronze when I worked with him, and if anyone knows him well, ‘twould be his brother.”
Mine own time working alongside Steel in the Ephorate gave me ample reason to share that concern. Howe’er, the war had changed me a great deal, and I could hope that the same could be said for him. Regardless of my chances of success, the attempt had to be made. “I think his army is surrounded, cut off from any outside assistance, and has no hope of victory.”
Dusk slumped, staring down at the dirt beneath his hooves. “Aye, it would be reasonable to ask for terms in such circumstances. But e’er since this war began, far too many ponies have done unreasonable things. Myself first amongst them.”
I grunted and nodded. “I would not be shocked if he prefers death to the dishonor of surrender. For the sake of thyself and thy sister, it would be wise to turn thy mind to finding a way to dissuade him of that notion.”
Dusk’s head snapped up, finally giving me his full attention. “My sake and Dawn’s? What do you mean by that?”
I was in no mood to mince words. “Need I state the obvious? Sunbeam spared both of thy lives because she thought there might still be some use to thee. A large portion of that was needing the loyalty of the Stalker clan for this battle. Once Steel’s army is undone, she will have much less need for thee. If thou wouldst remain alive in the coming years, ‘twould be wise to continue showing thine usefulness and loyalty at every opportunity.”
“Is that to be my life, then?” Dusk’s eyes turned to the heavens. “Must I spend the rest of my days constantly fearing the noose whene’er I am not immediately useful to the Archmagus?”
“It is the fate thou didst choose for thyself,” I answered bluntly. “I understand the reasons for thy choices. I too was torn ‘tween loyalty to kin and honor. Howe’er, thou didst not make the correct decision until ‘twas almost too late, and now thou shalt reap the consequences of it. Be grateful for thy life, and prove that the Commander was not wrong in granting it to thee. If thou dost not have the strength to manage that, find a blade and end thine own dishonor.”
He sighed heavily, but I saw his spine stiffen slightly. “Very well then. If nothing else, I can at least try to help put an end to this war. E’en if Sunbeam decides she wants my blood once ‘tis done, I can at least know that I at least regained some small shred of honor in my last days.”
“Quite.” As we began to make our way across the dried-out fields for our meeting with Steel, I raised one final matter. “Of course, I need not say what will happen shouldst thou speak unwisely in our meeting with Steel.”
“I expect if I tried to reveal any information about your plans I would be executed immediately,” Dusk murmured. “With Dawn soon to follow.”
I did not respond, which was answer enough. I had no intention of murdering his sister for any crimes he committed, but ‘twas best if he did not know that. He seemed to have little care for his own life, but his sister was another matter. Better to be sure of his loyalty, or at least his obedience. Perhaps Sunbeam would end his life once the war was done and he offered no further use to her. If she did, I would shed no tears.
As we neared the meeting ground, I laid eyes upon Steel Striker for the first time in months. As agreed before the conference, he came alone. Time had not been kind to him. Muscle had faded from his frame, leaving the skin hanging slack upon his bones, and his mane looked thin and sickly, beginning to fade away. His eyes had sunken back into his skull, and each step was much slower and heavier than I remembered. He looked ... old. Old and tired. Perhaps these negotiations were not as hopeless as I feared.
The Ephor met mine eyes and nodded. “Shadow.”
“Steel.” I knew him well enough to not waste any time of exchanging pleasantries or any of the traditional preliminaries. “You know why I have come. Your army is caught between mine and Archmagus Banks'. Your position is untenable, but I am prepared to offer reasonable terms. Let us end this battle without further bloodshed.”
Steel grunted, his face unreadable. “Hungry.” I was uncertain what to make of that word, but a moment later he continued. “Your army. Hungry. Canterlot was under siege not too long ago. Supplies must be low. Fast deployment. Foraged everything I could while withdrawing. Doubt you found much. How long before you starve?”
“Long enough,” I answered, meeting him with the same laconic tone he was so famous for.
“Maybe.” He slowly set his hooves, standing his ground. “Been digging in. Not easy to take a fortified position. Even a basic one. Still bad odds for me, but faced worse.”
‘Twas as I feared, then. He suspected enough of mine army’s woeful supplies to think he could win. If the initial attempt at destroying his was less than successful, I would be hard-pressed to launch a second attack. Not that I had any intention of admitting that. “There is nothing to be gained by this battle. Your soldiers have suffered and sacrificed too much already. Let them have the peace they deserve. Let them go home to their families, rather than die upon this miserable field for no reason.”
“Those your terms?” His eyes shifted to Dusk, pointedly lingering on his black armor. “Heard different. Homes, maybe. Not family.”
“You are beaten,” I countered. “I will offer you a peace that is merciful and fair, but I will not leave you strength enough to rise against the Commander again.”
“Thought so.” Steel met mine eyes, scowling. “Say you can beat mine army? Then do it. Rather die free with my clan than live a slave with no family.”
“I would not deny you a family,” I countered. “If anything I would grant it. You could reunite with your daughter, and live out your days in honorable retirement with your close kin.” I spared a brief look Dusk’s way, leaving that part of the offer unspoken. “You could either have rooms in the palace, or a small villa in the country.”
“Honorable retirement.” He scoffed and shook his head. “Know a cage when I see one. Gilded one, but still a cage. Still the end of my clan. Just for my life.” He chuckled humorlessly, waving a hoof over his wasted chest. “Not much life left in me. Made my peace. Ready for it. Rather die on a battlefield holding true than betray the cause to buy a year or two in a cage.”
Dusk stepped forward. “What about the rest of your army? Most of them are not e’en pegasi. They are farmers, artisans, and workers. They have lives and families to go back to. Must they all join you in death?”
Steel frowned and slowly shook his head. “They may not have been born as warriors, but they have earned it. They are fine soldiers, and if you are triumphant I will be honored to die alongside them. Know why they joined the army? They believe. They want to fight for their freedom from your queen.” He crossed his forelegs over his chest. “Can you offer that? No Sun Queen. No damned Avatar of the Moon Queen. Just free ponies. I will take those terms.”
I grimaced and shook my head. “You know I cannot.”
Steel grunted and nodded. “I know. And you know mine answer. No Ephor of Pegasopolis has e’er surrendered to a foreign conqueror.”
Dusk couldn’t restrain himself. “Father, please—”
Steel closed his eyes and took a long breath. “Never earned that, Dusk. Sired you, yes. Father? No. Never was that to you.” His attention shifted to me. “Bright ... did she die well?”
“She did,” I confirmed. “She remembered herself before the end.”
“Good.” His gaze shifted to the heavens. “Suppose if I lose, I will see her soon enough. Not the worst thing. Guess that means I win either way. Wonder if there will be stories about the last stand of the last free ponies of Equestria.”
“Will you not see reason?!” Dusk snapped at him. “This fight will not go the way you think. There will be no glory, only death!”
I leaned in and sharply whispered. “Mind thy words, Dusk.”
He turned to me, desperation in his eyes. “But ... Lady Protector, if he knew what we were planning, he would surely—”
“Perhaps he would,” I conceded. “But we have our duty.” I was not about to jeopardize our battle plans in the hope that ‘twould convince Steel to surrender. He was e’er stubborn, and might well find some way to counteract us if forewarned of the threat. Our position was far too tenuous to give up any advantage.
I turned mine attention back to Steel. “You have one hour's time to change your mind. If you do not, your army will be destroyed, and you along with it. I urge you to reconsider mine offer ere the deadline expires.”
Steel grunted and nodded. “We will be ready for you.”
I took a deep breath and offered my parting words. “No, you will not.”
An hour passed with no answer from Steel. It was time.
I found Sunbeam and Commander Celestia at the center of the camp, alongside the magi. E’en Mossy Banks had joined them, leaving his army under the command of a lieutenant. As I entered the Commander’s pavilion I could feel the very air thrumming with power.
This was the hidden stroke that, we hoped, would undo Steel’s army without a battle. The late autumn heat wave was no accident of the weather, but the work of the Commander herself. E’en as she intensified the sun’s might upon Maresidian Fields, Mossy Banks had used his unique connection to the region to further drain away what little water was left. Other magi had turned their attention to drying out the thick grass, or stirring the winds alongside mine own clanponies.
Howe’er, the greatest key to the entire undertaking had been the rebels themselves. They had erred badly in attempting to drown Canterlot beneath ne’erending rain and o’erstrain the shield around the city. Months without rain had left Maresidian Fields arid, drying up the rivers that normally fed the plains. The loss of their warlocks and removed the group most likely to notice and counter our spellwork. Likewise, Rightly’s departure with the best pegasi warriors to see to the insurrections within earth pony territory denied them the air strength needed to stop us. Steel’s own evaluation of the logistical limits of mine army gave him every reason to believe that he was best served by remaining in one place and fortifying his position.
Sunbeam had been the one to bring all these factors together and forge them into a plan of action. Maresidian Fields was already a tinderbox due to the rebel-inflicted drought, and now she could commit the full strength of Equestria’s magi to fanning the flames. With Steel’s refusal to surrender, she needed to provide only the smallest spark to unleash the firestorm.
‘Twas not the battle I would have preferred. There would be no honor or glory to it. Howe’er, if the spell worked as she intended it would give us a far more certain victory than risking open battle, and at no loss to our own forces. Steel’s army, wholly lacking in accomplished spellcasters after the death of the warlocks, would be helpless to prevent it. In all likelihood, they would not e’en realize their doom until it fell upon them.
I cleared my throat. “An hour and more has passed. There has been no word from Steel’s camp, and our scouts report he is still preparing for battle.”
Sunbeam opened her eyes. “I see. Then I shall begin the final spell.”
“No.” We both froze at the Commander’s voice as she drew herself up to her full height. “Thou shalt not cast the spell, Sunbeam.”
Sunbeam blinked and took half a step back in shock, but a second later anger overtook her surprise. “Your Majesty, you know why we agreed to use this spell ritual. We agreed that it was our best hope to—”
Commander Celestia cut her off with an upraised hoof. “Thou shalt not cast the spell. I will.” She took a deep breath, then slowly let it out. “I have often heard it said that a ruler must have subordinates willing to do all the unpleasant things that she cannot bring herself to do. I think I do not care for the idea of absolving myself of all responsibility so easily. To say that since another did the action in my name, my hooves are clean. It is ... too easy.”
She stepped to the pavilion’s exit, staring across the field at the rebel camp. She took a deep breath. Then another. Finally, I heard her speak a few words, scarcely above a whisper. “I am so sorry.”
She cast the spell.
Author's Note
As always, thanks to my pre-reading and editing team for all their hard work. Also, I would like to thank all my dedicated Patreon supporters. You guys are awesome.
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Aidan Hall
The Commander’s spell had transformed Maresidian Fields into a charnel house. Burned skeletons dressed in the scorched remnants of their armor covered the blackened plains, and the stench of charred flesh assaulted my nostrils with every step.
Perhaps I should have turned my back on the spectacle instead of immersing myself in it. Howe’er, the Commander was doing much the same as I, her eyes drinking in every horror she had wrought. The pain upon her countenance was easy to see, but that was precisely why she was here. ‘Twas she who had unleashed this devastation, and anypony who could wield such power should do so with keen understanding of the consequences for doing so. Sunbeam stood at her side, scowling when she spotted tears in the Commander’s eyes.
We had found precious few survivors so far. Some of the earth ponies had been close enough to the dried up river to take cover within its banks, and others had simply been fortunate and avoided the worst of the blast through happenstance. Our chirurgeons saw to everyone we found. The rebel army had already been destroyed; now was the time for mercy.
My squire slowly trotted towards me, stepping gingerly around the fallen. She had rather prudently covered her nose with a handkerchief to combat the smell. Judging by the grimace on her lips, ‘twas only partially successful. Still, she was reluctant to remove it in order to speak. “Milady, the soldiers have found a body, and one of the Magi just confirmed that it is Steel’s. I thought you would want to know.”
I took a deep breath, then slowly nodded. “I did. My thanks to thee, White.” Part of me had hoped that he might have survived through some miracle, but that had been a foolish dream. Nothing could have survived the horror Sunbeam and the Commander had wrought.
‘Twas curious to walk upon the charred fields. Battlefields always had an eerie stillness to them once the battle itself was done, the silence that comes in the wake of war and death seeming deafening by comparison. But this ... this was no battlefield. There had been no glory or honor found at Maresidian Fields. Only fire, death, and the hope that what we had done would finally put an end to the madness our civil war had unleashed upon the world.
White grimaced as she followed my gaze, looking out o’er the blasted landscape. “I have heard it said that bards were already preparing new songs to commemorate your victory against the Avatar, milady. I do not think any of them will want to celebrate this.” (1)
1: Only one known song was composed about the event at Maresidian Fields in Shadow’s lifetime, and “The Field of Flame” was far more along the lines of a lament than a celebration. Sunbeam Sparkle was rumored to be quite fond of having it performed when she felt the need to make a point to her political opponents.
“I would prefer that they did not.” A part of me hoped that we could completely forget about what had happened here, though I knew that would not be the best way to address it. Such things should ne’er be forgotten, else they might happen again. Far wiser to remember what we had done, and the terrible consequences of it. Only a coward refuses to face the reality of their own actions, and so long as the world remembers the terrible price of war, we would be unlikely to find ourselves paying it again.
My eyes once more drifted to Sunbeam and the Commander. Sunbeam had taken her aside, and though I could not hear her words the tension in her shoulders and the scowl upon her lips made it easy enough to guess. The Commander responded with something short and sharp before abruptly turning her back on her advisor and stomping towards her tent. Predictably, Sunbeam followed in her wake to continue the discussion.
I judged it prudent to follow the two of them. ‘Twould be far from the first time they had quarrelled, and in the aftermath of the destruction on the Fields, the Commander’s temper would doubtless be far more frayed than usual. Thankfully one of them had been prudent enough to erect a privacy spell, though the relieved looks the royal guards directed at me ere I entered her tent made it clear that they knew what was transpiring.
I entered the tent to find the Commander in the midst of opening a bottle of wine. As soon as the cork came out, my nostrils were assaulted by the smell of old and especially potent alcohol. While I paused to take stock of the situation, Sunbeam scoffed contemptuously, her attention so focused on the Commander that she did not e’en notice me. “Oh yes, Majesty, I am sure that will solve all your problems.”
The Commander closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then deliberately poured herself a large drink. “Sunbeam, I have had a very long and very trying day. I would like the peace to find what solace I can in privacy, preferably without any further ... commentary from thee.”
Sunbeam’s eyes narrowed. “You will find no solace in the bottom of a bottle. There is nothing to be found there but weakness and failure, not to mention the spectacle of a drunken sot of a queen at a time when the army needs to see its ruler standing strong.”
The Commander whirled upon her with a furious glare. “I have burnt an entire army to cinders. Thousands lie dead by my hooves. I think I have shown more than enough strength to satisfy thee for several lifetimes. Let me rest.”
“Rest?” Sunbeam repeated incredulously. “I think you forget the realities of leadership, Majesty. Those who wear the crown do not have the luxury of rest. You cannot ignore the responsibilities that come with your position simply because you are tired. You are queen, and must always conduct yourself as such.”
The Commander’s eyes narrowed. “Thou art quick to lecture me on the responsibilities of an office I held for centuries ere thou wert born.”
“Only when you need to hear such words, Your Majesty.” Sunbeam bowed to her. “I am, as ever, your most loyal advisor. A duty that occasionally requires me to remind you of things you should already know. The crown is a heavy burden, but you do not have the luxury of setting it aside.”
“Perhaps I should.” The Commander’s tone turned sharp. “Doubtless that would please thee. Thou canst rise no further without usurping me.”
Sunbeam’s teeth clenched. “I am and will always be loyal to you, my queen. I would have thought the lengths I have gone to in order to preserve your throne would provide ample evidence of that. If you find my words upsetting ... the truth is often unpleasant. However, I would be a poor advisor if I lied to spare your feelings.”
“The truth in thine eyes is often different from what any other sees,” the Commander snapped. “Thou wouldst claim to be my loyal servant? Then serve me by removing thyself from my presence until such time I require thy service.”
“Ah, so now you would hide from the truth rather than confront it?” Sunbeam asked archly. “‘Tis little difference ‘tween hiding at the bottom of a bottle and removing any who dare to point out the folly of such a course. I would be a poor vizier if I allowed either.”
The Commander grimaced and muttered something unexpectedly foul under her breath ere she addressed Sunbeam again. “Very well. What dost thou want? What must I say or do to be rid of thee and spend the rest of this evening in peace?”
“Act the part of a queen.” Sunbeam replied regally. “The army needs to see its leaders standing strong and resolute. A sobbing inebriate makes for a poor queen indeed, and I assure you that rumors will spread if you allow yourself to fall into such a state.” A hint of haughty disapproval entered her voice. “I and every soldier in the army saw those tears in your eyes. For the ones who betrayed you, waged war against your city, killed your loyal soldiers, and conjured an abomination that attempted to murder my daughter. Tell me, how many tears did you give to those who stayed loyal to you?”
“More than thou ever hast,” the Commander snapped, downing her drink with a single, massive gulp.
“That is true,” Sunbeam allowed before delivering a barb. “I do not waste my time with tears. They accomplish nothing, and are a needless distraction from actually achieving something useful. Tears would not win the war or save our soldiers’ lives.”
It took several deep breaths for the Commander to calm herself enough to answer. “I am not like thee, Sunbeam. And I am grateful for that every single day of my life.” She set about refilling her goblet. “The army needs time to rest, and ‘tis far too late to break camp and march. We can afford a single night ere we move again in the morn.”
“The army will rest far easier if its queen is actually leading it instead of making a drunken spectacle of herself,” Sunbeam answered coolly. “Spend a few hours with the common soldiers, hear their concerns and calm their hearts. Let them see the strength of their queen.”
The Commander grimaced, but slowly shook her head after several seconds. “I am sure Shadow can see to such things, and thou canst have words with the magi. I am in no mood to—”
Sunbeam cut her off. “Ah, so that is the way of it? You would accuse me of coveting your crown, yet when I ask you to actually be a queen, you cast aside your responsibilities to me? If that is to be the way of things, then perhaps you should give me your crown.”
The Commander drew herself up to her full height, glaring down at her archmagus. “Enough with thy venomous tongue.” Sunbeam began to respond, but the Commander cut her off. “I said have heard enough of it! Thousands are dead , Sunbeam! Is that enough for thy sanguine tastes, or must I reduce all Equestria to ash to satisfy thee?”
Sunbeam endured her rage, seeming unmoved. A long silence stretched out between them, until the Commander slowly shifted on her hooves, breaking eye contact with her advisor. That was when Sunbeam struck. “If I might be blunt, Your Majesty?”
“Hast thou e’er been anything else?” the Commander grumbled.
Sunbeam let the barb pass without comment. “I understand you are upset, but I am not to blame for what happened at Maresidian Fields. If you wish to find the cause of this battle, and find someone to blame for all the death, then do not look to me. Look in the mirror. You have done precious little since this war began to convince anypony that you are fit to rule.”
The Commander’s eyes widened. “Thou speakest out of turn to thy queen.”
“I speak what she needs to hear, howe'er painful it might be,” Sunbeam countered, stalking closer to her. “You are all too eager to call me a monster, but which of us spent years sacrificing her blood and sweat to make Equestria great, and which of stood apart from the world and did nothing? I care far more about the good of Equestria and ponykind that you ever have.”
The Commander’s fragile self control shattered, and her hoof smote Sunbeam across the cheek. “Be silent!” she roared, glaring down at the smaller mare. “I will not be called heartless and uncaring by thee of all ponies! There is nothing within thy heart but naked ambition and an endless lust for power! Dost thou covet my crown so much that thou must ceaselessly tell thyself that I am weak and unworthy, and thou wouldst make the better queen?! Such is thy vanity that there I times I am truly amazed thou didst not betray me to the rebellion!”
Her voice rose in volume with each accusation, until the very tent shook from its power. “For all thy claims that compassion and empathy are weaknesses, thou canst not see the strength they give to the ponies around us. ‘Twas not thy heartless logic and selfish ambition which held Canterlot, but ponies with love for kin and country in their hearts and unswerving dedication to our cause. Thou thinkest thyself wise for thy cruelty, but in truth thou art the greatest fool of all, so blinded by her own twisted soul that she cannot see the truth of the world.” Contempt flashed in her eyes. “But thy twisted mind could ne’er understand it. Thou wert quick enough to abandon thy firstborn when thy swollen belly risked thine ascent. E’en when consumed by my sister’s madness the Avatar loved hers. Wouldst thou cast Midnight aside as readily if she became an inconvenience to thine ambitions?”
Sunbeam slowly picked herself up off the floor, taking a moment to brush out her robes ere she spoke. There was a very slight tremor in her voice, but aside from that and the mark on her cheek there was no sign that the Commander’s words and actions had unsettled her in the slightest. “You are o’erwrought, and speaking many foolish things. If you have no further need of my advice at this time, Your Majesty—”
“GO.” Mine ears popped as the word physically struck through the air.
Sunbeam waited almost long enough to be insolent before turning about and moving for the exit. As she did so, she noticed me standing at the entrance and caught mine eye. She said nothing, but the brief nod she offered made her intent plain enough. Then strode out without another word, pausing only to apply a quick illusion to conceal the mark the Commander had left upon her.
I remained in place for some time after she left. The Commander’s choler would still be high, and because I did not share Sunbeam’s fondness for provoking her, I judged it wiser to give her some time to calm her unbalanced humors ere I spoke. After a few minutes of careful silence, I strode the rest of the way into the tent, clearing my throat to ensure that she was aware of my presence. “Commander.”
The Commander was in the midst of emptying the bottle of potent liquor that had escalated her disagreement with Sunbeam, but slowly set it aside when she realized I was there. Her eyes met mine, and I saw a confused tumult of emotions within them. Lingering anger at Sunbeam, regret o’er having struck her, sadness o’er the war and the terrible price it had demanded from all of us. But above all else, shame at the state I had found her in. “Shadow, didst thou...”
“I heard enough,” I confirmed.
Her shoulders sagged, and she slowly refilled her glass. “I should not have struck her, not spoken so cruelly. Such acts were beneath my dignity as a queen. Worse, I shall have to apologize for it.” She grimaced and downed the drink in a single gulp. “I expect she will make that already difficult process far more painful than it needs to be.”
“She has a singular talent for being vexing,” I agreed, carefully considering my words ere I continued. “Though I have found that sometimes, she is so vexing because there is some element of truth to what she says.”
The Commander’s eyes widened, and she turned upon me with an incredulous stare. “Thou thinkest me a distant and uncaring queen, then?”
“No,” I quickly reassured her, “but I imagine that I know you far better than most of your subjects. Precious few of them have e’er seen more than a glimpse of you at a distance. The truth of who you are with those few who truly know you is often far less important than how you are seen by those who do not.”
She sighed heavily, slumping down in her seat. “Of course. I suppose, then, that you agree with most of what Sunbeam said, if not the manner in which she said it?”
I chose my words carefully. “How one is seen by the world is a difficult balance, and easily upset by the smallest action or inaction. Since the war began, little has been seen of you outside of court and the war council. Relatively small actions could have far greater impact than ‘twould seem like they should.”
“So thou dost agree with her, but are far more diplomatic in thy words.” She grimaced and set the bottle aside. “Dost thou also agree that I have been a poor queen, then?”
“I think you a queen who always seeks to do what is best for her realm and subjects. There is no higher virtue a ruler can hold.” I hesitated for a long moment, then carefully pressed on. “I also think that, like any other pony, you are capable of making mistakes. Mistakes are always far more likely when one is ill at ease, and I do not think you have truly been confident in your rule since you lost your sister to madness.”
The Commander closed her eyes and took a long, slow breath. “I fear you are right on that account. It has been ... hard, without her. Not only the pain of losing my beloved sister, but ... the leadership of all Equestria was ne’er meant to be borne by a single pony. In older times each of the tribes had its own leaders, and my sister and I shared the throne in better days. Perhaps the burden is simply too great for any one being to bear, e’en an immortal who is often said to be like unto a goddess.”
She took a deep breath, then nodded to herself. “I had been considering ... well, to be honest, it seemed more an idle thought, but these conversations have brought it into focus. That is to say...” She shook her head and paused several seconds, and when she resumed her words seemed much more confident. “I have waited for o’er a century for my sister to shed her madness and rejoin me. When I met her Avatar ... I saw nothing of the sister I once knew and loved. Merely a creature consumed by darkness and all the worst traits ponykind has to offer. Though I dearly hope she will recover, there seems little hope for it in the immediate future. It also seems that Equestria cannot afford to leave her throne vacant indefinitely.”
I could guess at what she intended, but could scarcely credit it. “Commander, what are you—”
She held up a hoof to silence me. “As you said before, Sunbeam is often vexing because there is an element of truth to her words. You and her have played a key role in ending this war and keeping my throne secure. I do not agree with Sunbeam’s claim that the both of thee have done more to rule the realm than I in recent days, but I think thou hast—” She hesitated a moment, and then pointedly corrected herself. “That you have demonstrated ample qualifications for the post.” A wry grin slipped across her lips. “That, and I certainly would not offer the crown to Sunbeam.”
E’en though I had already suspected that she would make the offer, to actually hear it spoken out loud... “Commander, I do not know what to—”
“I believe,” she gently interrupted, “that you should become accustomed to calling me Celestia.”
I took a deep breath, then slowly shook my head. “Comman—” I cut myself off as I noted her playfully amused glare. “Celestia. I am honored that you think me worthy of such praise, but this is perhaps not the best time to make such a momentous decision. You have had a very long and trying day, and...” I tried to think of the best way to say that her judgement was clearly compromised by stress and drink without being rude.
She took a deep breath, then reluctantly nodded. “You do raise a fair point: I am not at my best. I expect you will want some time to consider my offer, in any case. Not to mention that putting an end to this war must take precedence o’er anything else.” She smiled and gently placed a hoof on my shoulder. “Take that time to consider mine offer, and I shall ensure that it truly is what would be best for Equestria. Then we can decide.”
“Very well then.” Certainly something as momentous as the Commander’s proposal should not be decided upon hastily. In truth, the idea was so massive that I struggled to comprehend it. The idea that I might share the throne with the Commander, mayhaps e’en raised to immortality and equal power to her ... I could scarcely believe that such a thing was e’en possible.
We both fell silent for some time, neither of us entirely certain what to say next. As the silence stretched out long enough to become painful, I coughed and shifted topics. “Commander, I should see to my troops. Some of them are doubtless shaken by the day’s events, and we should begin preparing to march on Cloudsdale. Steel’s army might be undone, but Rightly still has a force in the field. Marching on Cloudsdale will force him to meet us.”
“Of course.” She sighed heavily. “At least then this war will finally be over. Far too late: I have wished for it to be over since it started.”
“As have we all,” I murmured. “When it began, I hoped that all the horrors we suffered would be justified with a better Equestria at the end of it. Now ... now I wonder how anything good could come from so much death and destruction.”
“Nothing good will. ‘Tis why I so truly despise war.” She closed her eyes and took a long breath. “There have been just wars in our past, foul tyrants o’erthrown and unspeakable monsters stopped. There was nothing like that in this. ‘Twas a war that ne’er should have happened, and not a single pony shall be happier for it. I only hope that we can heal the wounds this war has left upon Equestria as quickly as possible. Let us not linger upon old hurts, but move on to better things.”
“On that point, we are agreed.” I grimaced and shook my head. “Though I do not know what will become of the pegasi. Steel chose death o’er surrender and the end of the clans. If Rightly and his soldiers should do the same ... I have already buried far too many of mine own kind. If Rightly forces us to fight to the last to capture Pegasopolis, ‘twill be a bloody business. A part of me fears that precious few pegasi will survive the battle on either side.” I had already presided o’er the death of the clans. Would I also be responsible for the end of the pegasus race?
The Commander rested a hoof on my shoulder. “I will do everything in my power to ensure that it does not come to that. I hope that what happened here will be enough to persuade Rightly to make peace.”
“As do I.” ‘Twould at least give the burning of Maresidian Fields some purpose beyond merely destroying the rebel army. “You are not the only one to mourn the fallen, no matter their side.”
“I am glad to hear it.” A sad smile flickered across her lips. “Though I am afraid my mask has become quite brittle today. On days like this, it is quite difficult to seem like a proper queen.”
“Is there anything I might do?”
The Commander took a deep breath, then nodded to herself. “I think Sunbeam was right in one regard: I will find no comfort in the bottom of a bottle, just another form of misery to distract from my current troubles. I would not be alone, and there is no other I could trust to see me at my worst. Stay with me, my lady protector?”
I smiled and slowly stepped closer to her. “Of course, Commander.”
The Commander smiled and slowly wrapped one of her wings around me, drawing me nearer. “Did I not tell thee that thou must become accustomed to calling me Celestia? I think I shall have to insist upon it ere the night is done.”
“Very well ... Celestia.”
The rest of what passed ‘tween us on that night is a private matter that has no place in this memoir.
Author's Note
As always, thanks to my pre-reading and editing team for all their hard work. Also, I would like to thank all my dedicated Patreon supporters. You guys are awesome.
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Aidan Hall
I had arrived at Cloudsdale as many things. A young child reared by her fathers. A soldier returning home from her first deployment. An Ephor and materfamilias enjoying her homecoming after months away in the service of Equestria. But ne’er before had I approached the city of my birth as a conqueror.
After the destruction at Maresidian Fields, Rightly had withdrawn to the clouds rather than attempt to regain control of the ground. With the loss of Steel’s army, he had no hope of restoring control o’er the earth ponies. ‘Twas plain that his cause was lost, and there was no path to victory for the rebellion. Many hidden loyalists came into the open now that the rebels could no longer force them into compliance, while those whose loyalties were more flexible were quick to shift allegiance to the winning side.
Rightly still had one hope to at least gain defeat with honor, if not a true victory. While his rebels were badly outnumbered, they still had greater strength in the air. Howe’er, our magi were hard at work addressing that imbalance.
Sunbeam strode into the command tent, her daughter in tow and a pair of translucent wings glistening upon her back. She struck a pose when she noticed mine eyes upon her, displaying her new wings in fullness. “You must admit, they suit me.”
For a moment, I had a less than dignified desire to use mine armor to absorb the magical energies sustaining her magical constructs. Thankfully, I resisted the urge and responded in a way that suited my station. “Fine spellwork, Magus. Though I expect there is a great difference ‘tween having wings and knowing how best to use them.”
“Most likely,” she conceded. “I think ‘tis not immodest to say that I have crafted a truly brilliant spell for allowing flight to the flightless, but ‘twas quite difficult enough just to craft the spell formulae for reasonably reliable basic flight. The sort of maneuvers I have seen thee perform in battle are, I am afraid, quite beyond me. At least, not without the sort of testing that is far more likely to result in me breaking mine own neck.” She smirked and ran a hoof o’er her new limbs. “Doubtless the reason so few magi have e’er attempted flight, despite how exhilarating it must be. The slightest error would result in a long plunge to an unpleasant end.”
Young Midnight nodded gravely. “Aye, the sensation of having your means of flight fail you and the all-too-terrible realization that you can no longer remain airborne as you plummet towards the ground at terminal velocity, your panicked thoughts as your only companion as you hopelessly try and stop your descent before a sudden impact with the ground pulverizes all your bones and liquefies your organs, leaving the hapless pony nothing more than a smear on the ground to be cleaned up for burial.”
“Quite,” I murmured, taking her morbidity in stride. In all honesty, I had come to expect it after having known her for so long. If anything, I would have been more concerned if she failed to speak at great length about horrible and gruesome death when given the opportunity.
The young child cocked her head to the side, her eye lingering upon her mother’s wings. “The spell is quite impressive, though I suspect Mother would prefer proper wings of flesh and blood rather than mere spell-constructs. If Her Majesty conceded the throne to Mother by law rather than merely as a matter of practicality, it would only be fitting to grant her all the accoutrements of her new rank.”
A flicker of annoyance shot across Sunbeam’s face, and she raised a hoof to cuff her child. She set it back down after a moment’s hesitation with a weary sigh. “Some day, daughter of mine, thou wilt learn to guard thy tongue and not share every word I say in private whilst venting my spleen.” She paused a moment, then shrugged and amended, “Or mayhaps I should learn to speak more carefully when I know my child has such loose lips.”
Midnight’s ears wilted. “I am sorry if I have failed you, Mother. It is sometimes difficult to know what things I may speak of and which topics are restricted. Mayhaps we could create a list that I may consult whene’er I am uncertain?”
Sunbeam sighed softly and massaged her forehead. “I will think upon that.”
Her daughter hesitated for several seconds, then spoke up again. “Your wings look very nice, Mother.”
“My thanks to thee, child.” She idly patted Midnight’s head, shifting her focus back to me. “In any case, the wings are rather delicate for combat operations, and the spell is far too complicated for all but the very best of our magi. The bulk of our forces will have to make do with simpler spells to allow them to walk upon the clouds, or failing that, thunderforged shoes.”
I grimaced and nodded. “While that might allow us to breach Cloudsdale, we will still be at a substantial disadvantage. Rightly knows we are coming, and ‘tis certain he will be well prepared. I expect we will bleed heavily if we must take the city by storm.”
Sunbeam nodded, her confidence unshaken. “Aye, I did not merely give myself wings as a vain indulgence. Spellcasting is our only hope of winning the battle without paying a steep butcher’s bill to take the city. We could afford to lose five of our own for every one of Rightly’s soldiers, but I would sooner not waste so many lives.”
“There are other means of ending the matter,” I proposed. “Rightly must realize that the rebellion cannot hope to win this war. If we offer him reasonable terms...”
“We did the same for Steel, and he preferred death to submission,” Sunbeam murmured. “I suspect Rightly will not feel any differently. I recall many proud claims that no Ephor of Pegasopolis has e’er surrendered to a foreign conqueror, and I doubt he wishes to be the one to change that. Still, it costs us little to make the effort, and we can always hope he sees reason.”
She frowned and shook her head. “In all honesty, my true concern is that he might choose flight o’er battle or surrender. If he decides to use his clan as dispersed raiders, we would be hard-pressed to force him into a decisive battle and he could plague us with banditry for years to come. He could e’en move the entire city away, going into exile for many years only to return with his strength renewed.”
I rose to my hooves, pouring myself a goblet of water from the flask White had earlier filled for me. “Exile would destroy them. Their support is already crumbling, and surrendering the rest of Equestria would make it e’en worse. Not to mention the problems of feeding an entire city without any support from farms on the ground. Pegasopolis has little to offer by way of trade other than its blades, and I do not think Rightly or the warriors of Pegasopolis would resort to banditry or selling their services. Such things are antithetical to all that Pegasopolis stands for.”
Sunbeam regarded me with a sardonic smirk. “I am sure that if I asked thee a year ago, thou wouldst tell me that rebellion and consorting with warlocks or abominations of dark magic were also actions that no true child of Pegasopolis would e’er consider.”
I scowled, but I had no way to refute her words. Worse, the self-satisfied grin on her lips made it plain that she knew it.
A cleared throat caught mine attention as Gale strode into the tent. “If I might, I suspect that the harder we press Pegasopolis, the more flexible their morals will become. I know some have suggested merely starving the city into submission rather than risk storming it. Given the impossibility of properly investing the city, we would almost certainly drive what remains of Rightly’s army to banditry just to survive.”
Midnight nodded gravely. “Aye, when hunger gnaws at one’s belly like a serpent, leaving them in constant agony that ne’er abates as the pangs become so sharp they wake from sleep and reduce them to tears of helpless impotence, many would perform otherwise unconscionable acts simply to stave off the pain for a few days.”
Gale drew close enough to whisper to me. “One other matter, Mother. ‘Tis no secret that Rightly is stubborn and proud. It is possible that another commander would be more pliable.”
Mine eyes narrowed. “What art thou suggesting?”
“I suggest nothing,” she answered carefully. “I merely state facts.”
“I have no interest in such facts,” I answered tersely. “If anything befell Rightly, all the world would assume we were the cause regardless of the evidence. ‘Twill be hard enough to secure the surrender as it stands. The slightest hint of illegitimacy would give many all the excuse they need to ignore the order.”
My daughter bowed her head, acknowledging my point. “It is, of course, your decision. But if ending one life could save thousands, many would call it the most honorable course. Better a few more bandits and fanatics than a bloody battle in the streets of Cloudsdale. Alternately, given the likely poor state of Cloudsdale’s food and water supplies, we could revisit an old idea of mine if their foodstock were poisoned.”
“No, Gale.” I sighed and shook my head. “I will speak with Rightly first and give him the chance to end this without any more lives lost. If that fails, then we will consider how to take the city with the fewest lives lost—both in the immediate battle, and as the result of any long-term consequences of our actions.”
Gale frowned, but nodded a moment later. “Of course. As you wish, Mother.”
We met on neutral ground for the parley, in an abandoned manor house beneath the city. Whoe’er it was who oversaw these farmlands was long fled, most likely to avoid being in the center of a battlefield. The farmlands themselves had long since been stripped bare, likely by Rightly in preparation for the coming battle.
Sunbeam remained outside the manor, accompanied by many of her magi. They would keep an eye on the clouds, ensuring that nothing untoward occurred. Rightly doubtless had his own watchers in the sky for similar purposes.
I arrived alongside Gale, White, and a few chosen soldiers. Rightly was already waiting for me in the manor’s salon, his own soldiers tensing when we entered the room. His own force was carefully equal in strength to mine own, though one of them seemed more concerned with looking out the windows to keep close watch on Sunbeam and the other magi.
Rightly looked ... old. Old and tired. The heavy bags under his eyes were testament to many a sleepless night, and there was a limpness to how he sat that spoke to his exhaustion. He turned to me, seeming a hollow shell of the stallion I had once known. Not e’en his long captivity had worn him as much as the last few weeks of command.
I cleared my throat and nodded politely. “Rightly. Shall we speak alone?”
He frowned. “I have nothing to hide from my fellow pegasi.” When I said nothing more for several seconds, he sighed and conceded. “But perhaps the negotiations would move more smoothly with fewer ponies.”
“Very good then.” I found a seat and made myself comfortable, mine eyes pointedly remaining on Rightly’s followers as mine own made no move to leave the room.
Once it became clear I would not dismiss mine own followers, Rightly’s frown grew into a suspicious scowl. “Do you expect me to send away mine own escorts while you retain yours?”
I chuckled humorlessly. “You will forgive me for my suspicions, but I do not have the best history with parleys when meeting with the rebels. Need I remind you of what happened to my daughter? Shall I show you the scar Bright left?”
Rightly grunted, then waved his followers back. Some of them hesitated, and he repeated the command more firmly. “You have no cause to fear of that from me or mine.”
“Of course not.” I still waited until every single member of his escort had left to building before dismissing mine own. For all that I might trust his honor, I had learned many difficult lessons o’er the course of this war. Once we were alone, I cleared my throat. “Now we may speak freely. I offer you the chance to end this war and avoid further bloodshed.”
“I would like that, if such a thing is possible.” He took a deep breath. “I will not beg you for terms, but I will hear your offer.”
I had expected as much, and letting him retain a small measure of pride was a small price to pay if it ended the war. “I promise mercy for those under your command, save any warlocks or others who violated the rules and customs of war and basic decency. The common soldiers may have amnesty so long as they set aside their weapons and may regain those once they swear loyalty to the Commander. You will step down as paterfamilias and enjoy an honorable retirement. Any clans that rose in rebellion against their rightful Commander will be disbanded and struck from the roles of honor.”
Rightly scoffed incredulously. “All the clans opposed Celestia’s tyranny? That would be the end of Pegasopolis. You have gone mad if you think I would accept such terms. Since before there was an Equestria, there was Clan Doo. I will not undo the legacy of my forefathers simply because you hold a strategic advantage at this time.”
“If you do not like the terms, then perhaps you should not have turned against your Commander,” I answered bluntly. “Treason carries a heavy price. There are some who would prefer to see this war ended with every officer in the rebel armies swinging from a noose.”
Rightly shook his head. “Celestia was rightfully and legally removed from her post as Commander of Pegasopolis. She lost any claim to that post when she abandoned us, and only returned her attention to accuse us of being kinslayers and the maimers of our children. When we withdrew from her leadership and supported our earth pony kin in doing the same, she launched a war of aggression against her own allies.”
His account was hardly an accurate one, but I saw no point in arguing it. If he were prepared to listen to a reasonable explanation of the Commander’s actions, this entire war never would have happened. “I cannot deny that she has erred, as did we all. Commander Celestia has recognized those errors and endeavors to correct them. It is time you did the same.”
He scoffed. “Mere apologies are not enough to make her our commander again. That time has passed, and now the pegasi rule themselves once again. Since the dawn of Pegasopolis no Ephor has e’er surrendered a foreign conqueror, and I shall not be the first to do so.”
I sighed and pointed towards mine own forces. “You have fought bravely, but your armies are broken and your territory lost. Your rebellion controls nothing outside of Cloudsdale itself, and we both know I can take that city as well. Make peace with honor, and let this madness end before any more die.”
Rightly rose to his hooves, pacing towards the window and staring out it. “The armies of Pegasopolis might be bowed and many of my fellow Ephors dead, but we are not yet broken. We can still fight, and might yet achieve victory. We have endured far worse than this, and we will continue to endure long after your immortal queen leaves this world.”
I crossed my forelegs o’er my chest, unimpressed by his bluster. “I have many times your numbers, Rightly. How can you hope to win this war?”
“Do you intend to storm Cloudsdale?” he countered. “An army that cannot fly might find it difficult to take a city in the clouds. E’en if your magi can find some way to bring them to the city itself, we are no longer fighting in the tunnels. In the open sky I would rather have a dozen good pegasi than an army of earth ponies.”
I saw nothing to be gained in arguing the point, and so I moved on. “Let us say you do win, and still hold the city. How will you feed your soldiers for the winter? Or after that? The ground is lost to you. Will you raid and steal from common farmers, like mere bandits?”
He glowered at me. “E’en if we cannot hold the ground, we still have our supporters amongst the earth ponies. I would think you would also remember from your own time in the Patrol that we know how to live off the land.”
I poured myself a glass of water, using the few goblets the home’s original owner had left behind. “Will you be able to forage enough to feed an entire city, including the children and the elderly? This winter will already be a lean one, in no small part because of your rebellion. How many of our farmers died in the tunnels at Swift's command? Will you steal food from their widows and children now?”
Rightly did his best to ignore my words, but I caught the barest flinch from him. I pressed the attack, taking advantage of a report from Gale he likely had not heard yet. “The earth ponies you think love your cause might not be so fond of you now. Yesterday I learned that they caught Swift Blade attempting to buy passage on a ship bound for Gryphonia. The mob beat him half to death, then hung him from the nearest lamppost. How do you think they would greet you?”
He tucked his wings against his sides and nodded slowly. “Then give me more acceptable terms to end this war. Let Pegasopolis stand, give us what we need to defend Equestria, and we will cease fighting with our fellow ponies.”
“I have given you the terms I will accept,” I countered.
“Is that truly what you want?” Rightly demanded, whirling about to face me. “You wish to destroy the nation of your birth, and the legacy of your ancestors? For centuries the warriors of Pegasopolis have stood as Equestria’s sword and shield, protecting it from all who would harm it. Will all the good we have done for Equestria and can continue doing be cast aside like so much chaff, just because you wish it?”
“I wish there were another solution,” I answered grimly, “but you have forced my hoof. I will not have a second civil war a generation hence. The clans will not rise again. It ends now.”
“You speak of risks and possibilities,” he countered stubbornly. “There is no guarantee there will be another war. Not unless we plant the seeds for it today. Merely give Pegasopolis and the earth ponies their independence and we can be sure of eternal peace.”
I scoffed, scarcely believing mine own ears. “When Commander Celestia initially chose to allow Pegasopolis to depart in peace, you answered her with a declaration of war. Rightly, you have lost the war. I will hardly give you the victory you sought when negotiating the peace.”
Rightly stomped on the floor. “No Commander or Ephor of Pegasopolis has ever surrendered to a foreign conqueror and you are a fool if you think I will be the first! I will not destroy my nation with the swipe of a pen.”
I met his gaze levelly. “Then you will destroy it in the fires of war.”
His eyes widened, and he snarled at me. “You would use whatever spell you used at Maresidian against Pegasopolis itself? You have become many things, but I had hoped you were not a butcher of innocents.”
I would do no such thing, for precisely the reason he mentioned. E’en if I wished to, a city in the clouds would not burn anywhere near as readily as grassland suffering from months of drought and carefully prepared by the Commander and her magi. After seeing the carnage of Maresidian, I doubted the Commander could bring herself to repeat it, and that attack had been against an entirely military target. E’en if we could replicate the feat against Cloudsdale, we would not.
Howe’er, if Rightly believed we could and would, it might convince him to surrender. “I would not do such a thing unless you left me no other choice. As one of Celestia’s generals, it is my duty to end this war swiftly and with as few of our own lives lost as possible.”
His teeth clenched. “You ask me accept the annihilation of everything Pegasopolis stands for or you will destroy the nation itself. It seems to me that oblivion is the end in either case.”
“No.” I shook my head. “The ponies of Pegasopolis will survive if you would but have the courage to end this war. Think of how many lives you could save with a few simple words. Will the clans and all they believed in vanish just because the ponies within them must find new names? I value the lives of the ponies within my clan more than a mere name.” I slowly reached out and set a hoof on his shoulder. “Sometimes, the most noble thing one can do is to sacrifice one's own honor and pride to do what is right. Let history say that Rightly made the choice to save the lives of every pony under his command, e’en if it meant he would go down in history as the only Ephor to e’er surrender.”
Rightly took a deep breath, then slowly let it out. He paced back and forth across the room, and opened his mouth several times as if he were about to speak though he said nothing. Finally, after what felt like an age of silence, he spoke. “No. You gave a fine speech, Shadow, but I will not do this. I will not surrender to you. Not now. Not ever. Either offer better terms, or we are finished..”
I sighed and shook my head. “There will be no better offer, Rightly.”
He nodded grimly. “Then I shall see you on the battlefield.” He started for the door, then paused. “Or you will unleash your queen’s magi upon Cloudsdale, and prove yourself a monster.”
He left the room, taking with him our last hope for peace. I departed a short time later, rejoining Gale and the others. They all regarded me with hopeful smiles that faded as soon as they saw my grim countenance. I spoke and stole away the last of their hope. “Make ready for battle.”
The mood back at our camp was somber as we prepared for a battle none of us wanted to fight. Sunbeam was in an especially foul mood. “That damnable fool insists on continuing e’en after ‘tis plain he cannot hope to win. Tell me, dear Shadow, is there something in the water in Pegasopolis that makes thy kind excessively fond of pointless deaths? Do you romanticize the idea of having every single pony under thy command slain, as if it somehow proves some grand moral point?”
Celestia sighed heavily. “Sunbeam, do not vent your frustration upon Shadow. We all would have preferred that the matter end with no more deaths, but she has done all that she could to reach a peaceful conclusion. Rightly’s refusal is his own choice.”
“Oh, aye, most certainly it was.” Sunbeam scoffed and threw up her hooves. “And now we will bury many more ponies because of that choice. You will forgive me if I am less than pleased by that outcome.”
“None of us are happy,” I cut in ere Sunbeam could continue. “Lamenting what has happened will profit us little. We must simply adapt to the circumstances before us.”
Sunbeam opened her mouth to retort, then paused and took a deep breath. She closed her eyes and said nothing for several seconds. When she opened them once more, the wild, unfocused fury had left them. “You are right, of course. Mine apologies for my choleric disposition, Shadow. Let us cease these pointless dramatics and find the best way to move forward. You said that you think Rightly would take the offensive against us. Why?”
I was tempted to point out that she had been responsible for almost all of the pointless dramatics she was lamenting, but that would merely drag on the needless distraction. “He will attack us for three reasons. First, it is the only way he can hope to actually win the war. Defending Cloudsdale is not a pathway to victory. E’en if he holds the city against our assault, we will do enough damage to devastate him, then withdraw to Canterlot and leave him to face the long, harsh winter with his supplies exhausted.
“Secondly, going on the offensive favors him if he can achieve tactical surprise.” I tapped the map on which we had laid out our battle plans. “Our army relies upon tight formations and the precise coordination of differing units. If he can close the distance to us ere we form a proper pike wall and bring our ranged weapons and magi into position, he could devastate us. In an uncoordinated melee, the superior training and equipment of his forces will be far more telling.
“Finally, he will take the offensive for the same reason we attacked the rebels at Avalon Vale.” I cleared my throat. “Morale amongst the rebels is near the breaking point. They have suffered a series of crushing defeats, and now their capital is about to come under attack. If he can gain e’en a small victory, it would do much to restore hope. Not to mention that he might disrupt us badly enough to force us to cancel the offensive and withdraw to winter quarters. E’en with the fresh influx of supplies we gained from the earth ponies falling into line, we cannot afford to remain in the field for long.”
Sunbeam frowned down at the map, looking it over. “You make a convincing case, dear Shadow. Still, it seems unwise to sacrifice a strong defensive position to launch such an attack that is so likely to fail. Our own actions during the siege of Canterlot showed just how much could be gained from exploiting that.”
“Aye, but Rightly is not us.” I sighed and shook my head. “Cloudsdale does not sit atop a mountain, with miles of tunnels he can force us to crawl through ere we reach the city. If we can gain the clouds at all we will be within the city itself. Additionally, defending a fixed position is not something that comes naturally to most pegasi. As Commander Hurricane once famously said, ‘Fortresses are a testament to the stupidity of ponykind.’” (1)
1: That particular quote is likely apocryphal, as it has been attributed to other pegasus leaders with slightly different wording. However, the general sentiment hold true regardless of the source—pegasi don’t think much of walls they can easily fly over.
“Is there no way to dissuade him?” Celestia asked.
I grimaced as I turned to face her. “I do not think it likely. At best, we could convince him that an attack would fail, and he would wait for a better opportunity or attempt to withdraw entirely.” I still did not think it likely he would chose exile, but after my conversation with him I judged it no more unlikely than him accepting surrender.
“Far better to let him attack,” Sunbeam opined. “We will be ready for him, and he can break himself upon our forces. ‘Twould certainly be far cleaner than trying to claim Cloudsdale by fighting in the city’s streets. We might e’en attempt to make ourselves seem a more tempting target to draw him in.”
“And there is still one hope left,” I murmured. “If we wait until he is committed to the attack ere we reveal our readiness, he might accept the hopelessness of his position.” I sighed softly. “It is one thing to know it intellectually, and quite another to see the harsh military reality with one’s own eyes. It is perhaps a thin hope, but...”
“E’en the thinnest of hopes is better than none,” Celestia agreed.
Rightly came for us in the night. ‘Twas the most logical time to launch his strike, when our sentries would have less time to see his forces coming, and many of our soldiers would be fast asleep. Rousing thousands of sleeping ponies and getting them into a proper battle line while they milled about in half-awake confusion would have been all but impossible. If his surprise attack had been successful, it might well have delivered a great victory despite the staggering disadvantage he held in numbers.
Howe’er, achieving total surprise had required certain sacrifices on his part. His own scouting of our camps had been minimal, lest his reconnaissance betray his intentions to us. And so, he failed to grasp the significance of the reordered sleeping arrangements for our forces. If he came for us in the night, they would not need several minutes to find their units and move into formation, for every single soldier was already sleeping in their combat position. A few carefully concealed drills had me confident that they could be out of their bedrolls and in a passable pike wall within a minute of the alarm sounding.
Howe’er, perhaps the single greatest flaw in Rightly’s plan for a night attack lay not in the execution of the strike, but his choice of opponent.
Once Gale’s scouts confirmed that Rightly’s force had fully departed Cloudsdale and was truly committed to the attack, the night simply ended. E’en forewarned, I was briefly stunned when the moon almost instantly abandoned the sky, replaced by a blazing noonday sun. Rightly’s soldiers, caught completely by surprise, froze in shock as the light blinded them.
Caught in the open, his force seemed pitifully small compared to mine. The once proud clans of Pegasopolis had bled heavily in the caverns beneath Canterlot, while others had burned at Maresidian Fields. Shorn of their earth pony auxiliaries, the clans were badly outnumbered, and now they stood exposed and helpless within range of our artillery and magi.
Mine armor released a spell I had acquired earlier from Celestia, amplifying mine own voice. “Rightly Doo! Your position is hopeless. Stand down and end this.”
Had he been wiser, he might have listened to me. Or e’en fallen back to Cloudsdale. I expect some of our magi, namely Sunbeam, would not have hesitated to fire into the backs of a fleeing foe, but many would have let them withdraw. He would have taken losses to be sure, but the bulk of his strength might have lived to fight another day. Or, perhaps in the aftermath he might have accepted the futility of it all.
Alas, he did no such thing.
I have always wondered if I truly heard his response, or if ‘twas merely mine own imagination providing it. I suppose that in the end it mattered little. If he spoke, ‘twas but a single word. One last damnable command that sent far too many ponies to their deaths.
“Charge!”
The rebels broke into a dive, desperately trying to close with us ere our magi and ranged weapons could inflict too heavy a toll. The charge itself was a disorganized thing, the rebel line still staggered by the stunning effects of the sudden noonday sun and some of the rebels were doubtless shocked into inaction by the sheer enormity of the situation and their massive disadvantage.
Howe’er, enough moved forward that I knew what I had to do. ‘Twas but a single word, but speaking it proved far more difficult than it should have. “Fire.”
The full strength of Canterlot’s magi lashed out at the oncoming rebels. Lightning bolts tore solid lines of destruction through the rebel force, and fireballs scattered entire squads. At the same time, our artillery hammered them with ballistae bolts and thousands of smaller stones fired from catapults. Hundreds of warriors fell ere they e’en reached bow range.
Once that happened, the slaughter redoubled, the sound of hundreds of spells and artillery pieces joined by the song of thousands of bowstrings. The rebel charge faltered as it seemed to hit a solid wall of arrows and crossbow bolts, and in that frozen moment I unleashed several more spells stored within mine armor, lashing the rebels with fire and ice that Sunbeam had granted me earlier. ‘Twas a curious thing to so readily wield the magic of a unicorn, but any joy I might have found in the new experience was soured by my target.
I wondered if the madness would e’er end. If the rebels would force us to cut down every last one of them ere they allowed this madness to finally end. The roar of spells and our ranged weapons blended together with the screams of dying pegasi, until it all became an awful nightmare sound, like the cry of an impossibly huge beast.
“ENOUGH!”
Golden chains and nets descended from the heavens, capturing what few rebels remained and forcing them to the ground. Our own forces immediately ceased fire by pure instinct as Celestia strode forward, her horn glowing as she bound the last surviving rebels. “Enough!” she repeated. “It is over. No more will die today.”
Enough already had.
After the battle, I searched among the survivors. I did not find Rightly among them, but one of them was at least able to direct me to where he fell. The stallion I had once thought to wed was now naught but a charred corpse. Though I knew ‘twould likely bring me naught but pain, I tapped into mine armor’s magic to check the magical traces upon the body itself.
Sunbeam.
So the Archmagus of Canterlot had cast the spell to end Rightly. But had she done so directly, or was it one of the ones I wielded? Mine armor could not tell me that. I do not know which answer I would have preferred.
The next day, I entered Cloudsdale with an army at my back. We met no resistance, for Rightly had all but stripped the city of fighting-age ponies for his final attack.
With the Ephorate effectively disbanded, I went to the halls of the Gerousia. Age and stress had robbed them of a few familiar faces, but I still recognized many of mine old allies from my days in the Ephorate.
The elderly Dawnburst Charger rose to his hooves despite being all but crippled by time, and ripped the flag of Pegasopolis from the walls casting it to my hooves. “The city is yours, damn you. May you choke on your victory.”
Author's Note
As always, thanks to my pre-reading and editing team for all their hard work. Also, I would like to thank all my dedicated Patreon supporters. You guys are awesome.
Click here if you want to join the list of awesome people who support my writing.
Aidan Hall
With Cloudsdale secured, it seemed only reasonable to return to mine old home. The clan’s compound had suffered much during the war, repeatedly vandalized and desecrated by the rebels as punishment for my clan’s loyalty. Columns rent asunder, lascivious and blasphemous slogans scrawled upon the walls, and the statues of mine ancestors lay in ruins.
Gale strode to my side, grimacing at the sorry state of our former clanhold. “I suppose it should come as no surprise that the home of our ancestors was treated so poorly. If anything, I am shocked ‘twas allowed to stand at all. I thought the Avatar would have it destroyed outright.”
I shrugged. “I would think that those of our kin who joined the rebels still lived here for a time, and she hoped to win thee to her cause as well. I expect our compound was only destroyed once no Kickers remained to hold it.”
Gale scowled and wiped away a particularly unflattering suggestion regarding what would happen to myself, Celestia, and Sunbeam if the rebels captured us. “Most of the Kickers either eventually came to our side, or joined the other clans after Grandfather—” She grimaced, her eyes flicking to me. “After his passing.”
I closed my eyes and took a long breath. The home of mine ancestors disgraced, and mine own father would have to be struck from the clan’s roles and denied a burial with his kin. Perhaps once tempers had cooled and the wounds of war had healed, I could quietly pardon him and the others who had joined the rebel cause.
It did no good to dwell on such grim thoughts when we had far more important duties to focus our energies upon. “Have there been any problems with the occupation?”
“Nothing significant,” Gale assured me. “A few of the warriors too young to join Rightly’s last charge have been restive and some of the elderly are acting quite stubborn, but we have the forces needed to contain them.” Her eyes flicked down the clouds beneath us. “In all honesty, the ponies of the city seem more a danger to themselves than us. The number of suicides since we took the city is ... disturbing.”
That, unfortunately, came as no surprise. ‘Tween the downfall of Pegasopolis and the losses suffered by the rebels in the wars lasts weeks there was no shortage of cause for despair. “How many?”
Gale sighed heavily. “Dozens, last I heard. Rumor has it half the Gerousia has passed on since you took the city.”
The news also came as no surprise, though I would have preferred to avoid it. The occupation would have been far less painful if the Gerousia remained a viable institution to maintain order and grant us some sense of legitimacy, howe’er limited. Howe’er, they were all old ponies, and far too many of them now faced the prospect of burying their children and grandchildren. “I suppose 'twas inevitable. Do what we can to reduce the losses, I am tired of burying pegasi.”
“I will try,” Gale confirmed. We both knew ‘twould be no easy task; if the ponies of Pegasopolis were truly determined to end their own lives, there was little we could do to stop them. Gale could hardly afford to keep every single potentially suicidal pony in the city under constant guard. “I think we will have to occupy Cloudsdale for some time to maintain order. There is too little left of Pegasopolis to hope they might help us. Perhaps ‘tis for the best that the clans are to be undone, for there is little left of them now.”
I nodded glumly. ‘Twill make the occupation easier. I would have preferred to win them o’er to our cause, or at least persuade them to end this peacefully. At least now their power is broken, and we can be sure of peace in the future.”
Gale grimaced and shook her head. “Just because a rebellion stands little hope of succeeding does not mean they would ne’er attempt it. Rightly and Steel continued on e’en after ‘twas plain they could not hope to win.”
I grunted, staring up at the shattered statue of Hoplon Kicker, who had fought alongside Lyequinegus the Lawgiver. It seemed almost fitting to see that part of my legacy in ruins, given that we would undo much of their work. “We will need to occupy Cloudsdale for a time, aye. Hopefully they will accept everything that must change in time, and Equestria’s long nightmare can come at last to an end.”
“And what must they accept?” Gale queried, picking up the statue’s head and vainly trying to restore it to place. “They can only join our new army once they swear loyalty the Commander, and I doubt many of them will do that. They know no vocation other than war, and now we deny them that. Will we feed them and provide their other needs out of charity, or to prevent them from resorting to banditry?” She scoffed and ceased her efforts to restore the ruined statue. “Working directly with the unicorns and earth ponies has given me a new appreciation for money, and what it costs to run an army and feed so many mouths. They will not want to pay to keep the old clans fed, especially when the pegasi will not thank them for their charity.”
My daughter was correct. Warriors deprived of their craft and given no other task to occupy themselves would have little to do but seethe in resentment. Far better to keep them occupied than risk letting their hooves stand idle. “I expect we will find other gainful employment for the pegasi of Cloudsdale. We will still need weather regulation, and the thunderforges will have no shortage of things to produce. Perhaps some will reconcile themselves to Celestia in time, as we move past the war and return our forces to contending against monsters and external foes.”
“Mayhaps,” Gale allowed. “Those who wished to be warriors and protectors of ponykind might well accept that e’en if they do not wholly agree with Commander Celestia’s regime, she still rules o’er Equestria and defends its inhabitants. Though I wonder if these wounds can e’er truly be healed. I ... I know I did not love Celestia or her cause anywhere near so much as you do, but had you fallen in battle I would ne’er have accepted it. I know when the war was at its darkest, Sunbeam spoke of the possibility of fleeing the city and continuing the fight from the shadows. I certainly would have done so had you fallen.” She sighed heavily, looking our o’er the city. “If I could ne’er make peace with those who cut down mine own kin, how can I expect my enemies to do the same?”
I certainly ne’er would have forgiven the rebels had my daughter suffered a similar fate. I would like to believe that I would have gone as mad with vengeance as Bright had, but I had ne’er truly faced that test, and I prayed I never would. “We can only hope that time will heal this wound. I wish Rightly had seen reason. Or Steel. Or...” I trailed off with a melancholy sigh.
My daughter slumped heavily against a half-ruined wall. “As do I. Endless night...” She ran a hoof down her face. “The last few battles have been slaughters. This is nothing like the battles told by our elders. There was no glory or honor to be found in Rightly’s Last Charge. ‘Twas little better than murder. Why did he do it? Why insist upon death when he could have lived?”
“Because no Ephor of Pegasopolis has e’er submitted to a foreign conqueror.” The words had ne’er sounded more bitter than they did today. “I wonder if the bards will sing grand tales of how he chose to die a free pony rather than live as a slave.” A bitter twist pulled at my lips. “More fools they, if they see anything grand or romantic in such needless death. I saw no honor or glory on that field. Only good ponies cut down to preserve a single stallion’s pride. Had he survived the battle, I would have found the nearest tree and given him the same end Swift Blade met. He did not deserve a soldier’s death after that.”
“Mother...” Gale put a reassuring hoof on my shoulder. “Do not forget that you loved him once.”
“Perhaps I should not have,” I answered bitterly.
“The heart wants what it wants,” Gale answered. “E’en when all reason says that it should not want it. Let Rightly rest in peace, and do not let the love you once felt for him turn to bitter hate. It will only bring you more sorrow.”
I grunted and nodded mine agreement. Gale was right, and Celestia would doubtless say the same if I brought the matter to her. Likely e’en Sunbeam, though she would not word it so sweetly. Hatred was a poison that harmed the one who felt it far more than the target, and all the moreso when one hated a ghost.
My daughter’s gaze shifted back towards the city proper. “Nor do I think it entirely fitting to place all the blame ‘pon Rightly. How often did we all say that he aspired to fulfill every virtue expected of a soldier of Pegasopolis? That he always sought to act with justice and honor in mind? I am sure those who will wax nostalgic on the glories of the Old Pegasopolis we have torn down will hold him up as a paragon of their ideals, and speak of his last stand in hushed reverence.” She scoffed and turned her back on the city. “If the honor of Pegasopolis demands that he send the soldiers under his command to their deaths in a hopeless battle, then mayhaps the fault lies not with him, but Pegasopolan honor. There was a sickness in our society that drove it to war upon others, and Rightly was but a symptom. I only pray that what we have done this day will address it.”
“Aye, I hope that we have at least helped make a better future by tearing down the past.” A thought all the keener in my mind as I gazed upon the ruins of mine own destroyed home. “How do things stand with the earth ponies? I know the cities are with us, but I have heard many reports of conflicts ‘tween loyal and rebel militias in the countryside.”
Gale grimaced and nodded. “We will send patrols to address the matter, but I suspect ‘twill continue for some time. We will likely spend many years hunting down bandits who claim to be the last soldiers still fighting for the rebel cause.” She scuffed a hoof along the clouds, seemingly just for the pleasure of touching them once more. “What of the Earth Pony government? Are new elections to be held to legitimize Commander Celestia reclaiming rule o’er them, or would there be too much risk that she might lose?”
I sighed and shook my head. “We could hardly hold a fair election when we have occupation forces in several earth pony cities.” Not to mention that Sunbeam had already confided her own desires to put an end to elections for the leader of the earth ponies. I agreed with her on that point: at best they were farcical confirmations of Celestia’s rule, and at worst they risked sowing the seeds of a new war. Better that she ruled as queen o’er all three tribes of ponykind than allow the division ‘tween them to continue.
Gale’s gaze turned back to the city. “It almost feels like I am drifting out of a bad dream, or maybe a dream that became a nightmare. I thought there would be a grand homecoming when we won the war, but I do not know the ponies here. Not anymore. While we may share wings, they are not my comrades. I feel more kinship to the ponies I fought alongside, e’en though they were born without wings.” Her eyes lingered on the damage to our old home. “Should I bring our engineers up to begin restoring the Compound, Mother?”
I took a deep breath as I surveyed the damage. “No. This place is no longer our home.”
Gale’s shoulders slumped. “I thought as much. In all honesty, I doubt we would want to live in a city where every other inhabitant hates us. ‘Twould be akin to another siege.”
I sighed and nodded. “We took everything we could when we fled this place, and I think I knew e’en then that we would ne’er truly return. We have made a good home for ourselves in Canterlot. ‘Tis as thou sayest, we have found new comrades to replace those we lost. If we can name unicorns and earth ponies as our brothers and sisters on the battlefield, mayhaps the rest of Equestria can learn to do so in peace.” A thought crystallized in my mind. “This place ... it is no longer ours.”
I exited the compound, stepping to the boundary ‘tween it and Cloudsdale proper. Then, with a strike of my wings, I began parting the clouds joining our former clanhold to the city. Gale stepped out of the compound, watching in silence as I worked. Doubtless our engineers could have done the job far more quickly and cleanly, but it seemed wrong to ask any other to undertake this final grim task.
Once ‘twas done my daughter and I watched in silence as the clanhold our ancestors held for centuries slowly drifted away from the city. Cut away from the structure of Cloudsdale itself, the compound of mine ancestors slowly began to fall apart at the edges. ‘Twould likely be some time ere it vanished completely, but ‘twould fade away in time.
Gale let out a shuddering breath as she beheld our home’s end. “We have made our decisions, Mother. Now we must live with them.”
“We will.” I nodded. “I think we made the right choice, or at least the best choices that we saw available. All that is left now is to pray that history agrees with us, and hope that the future brings us better things.”
In the years after the war, Shadow Kicker would serve as Lady Protector of Equestria. She devoted much of her time to healing the wounds left behind by the Equestrian Civil War, also known as the Lunar Rebellion. In her later years, she also played a pivotal role in the Westmarch Liberation and the Morning Star Crisis. She lived a long and full life in the Canterlot Compound, eventually dying in her late nineties surrounded by friends and family.
Though it lies somewhat outside the scope of this account, I would be remiss not to address the mystery surrounding her son Ash Kicker, born nine months after the end of the war. Shadow never openly acknowledged a sire, leading to no shortage of wild rumor and speculation. The three most commonly named candidates are Sunbeam Sparkle, Celestia, and Rightly Doo. I think the last one rather unlikely from what we have seen, though it is always possible Shadow omitted such details from her memoirs. Sunbeam seems like the most likely sire given that Shadow acknowledged a relationship with her in this account, though I personally see enough careful omissions to suspect that it might actually be Celestia.
Gale Kicker would serve in her mother’s clan for many years, eventually wedding Dusk Cumulus née Charger. In time she would step outside her expected role as a military commander, entering politics and becoming the second Grand Vizier of the unified Equestrian government. She also aided Dusk in establishing House Cumulus among Equestria’s nobility in an attempt to preserving part of the Charger bloodline and heritage, even if the name itself died out.
Sunbeam Sparkle continued on as Grand Vizier and Archmagus of Canterlot until age forced her retirement. She remained lifelong friends with Shadow, and other accounts make it clear that they carried on a sporadic on-and-off affair in the years after the war, though nothing deeper ever seems to have come of it.
Midnight Sparkle would follow in her mother’s hoofsteps as an adult, becoming a magus and embarking on many adventures detailed in her own memoirs. One of the few surviving pieces of writing from Sunbeam Sparkle herself is a letter which states that the day she passed the mantle of Archmagus of Canterlot to her daughter was a far prouder moment than when she claimed it for herself.
Stalwart Kicker, who been in a coma since the battle in the Canterlot tunnels, returned to consciousness a few weeks after the war’s end and spent many more years in service to his clan and Equestria. His relationship with his daughter Astra would be troubled for many years by the death of Sierra, especially after his remarriage to a unicorn war widow. In his later years, he served as one of Midnight Sparkle’s mentors and companions.
Dawn Cumulus née Charger never fully recovered from the war, though she continued her work a chirurgeon despite her personal demons. She pioneered several medical techniques, most notably a new and far safer method to safely extract a dangerous foreign object from a pony’s stomach.
A small faction of the clans would chose exile over surrender, scattering to the winds in the years after the war. Most would survive as mercenaries, selling their combat skills to the highest bidder. The clan remnants would eventually launch a stillborn attempt to reclaim Equestria which ended with a crushing defeat at the Battle of Two Magnuses, but they would eventually enjoy a renaissance in Freeport after Torch Charger’s revolution brought the Council to power.
Celestia would ultimately dissolve the tribal governments and claim the new royal crown for the unified Equestrian state. She has continued to rule over her nation through times both good and ill, guiding her nation through the dark years of the war and its aftermath. While modern Equestria still has its flaws, I would like to think that she ensured that Shadow’s dream of a better world eventually became a reality.
Author's Note
And ... wow. That’s a wrap. I can’t believe we’ve actually finished this. I had a ton of fun writing this, and I hope you all enjoyed reading it.
As always, thanks to my pre-reading and editing team for all their hard work. Also, I would like to thank all my dedicated Patreon supporters. You guys are awesome.
Click here if you want to join the list of awesome people who support my writing.
Aidan Hall
I confess that I am not entirely certain why I have chosen to write this account.
One could speak of all the normal reasons a retired soldier such as myself would choose to put her experiences into writing. I could offer long-winded commentary about how I wish to offer the benefit of my wisdom and experiences to both my own generation and generations hence. I might choose to carry on at great length about the uniqueness of my experiences, and how ordinary ponies across the world might apply the insights I have gained to their own lives.
In truth, I would find such an account to be unbearably pretentious. While I shall not engage in such false modesty as to claim that I have nothing of value to contribute to the sum of all knowledge, I do not think myself so brilliant that the world would suffer for not having my own opinions added to it.
Perhaps, then, I have written this account to secure my own legacy in the pages of history? I would be far from the only old soldier who has done such a thing. I could go on at length about my triumphs, regale my readers with the story of how I faced impossible odds and claimed victory by dint of my own skill on the battlefield. My failures, by the same token, could be explained away or shifted onto the backs of others, and my more disputed decisions might be explained in full.
However, such a self-aggrandizing account holds even less interest to me than one that merely seeks to feed my own ego. In truth, I feel that, if anything, my reputation is already far too exaggerated. Many have sought to make more of me than what I truly am, to place me upon some pedestal as a perfect, unerring figure. Even before such veneration bore its ultimate fruit I found such things tiresome, and after some of the events that ultimately transpired as a result of my inflated reputation the thought of doing anything that might add to it fills me with no joy.
Perhaps the simplest answer is the correct one. That like many soldiers who have survived the maelstrom of war and lived to old age, I find myself compelled to look back and reflect upon my experiences. Ultimately, I have chosen to commit such reflections to the written page so that I might consult my thoughts and sharpen memories that old age has begun to take from me.
It is in some ways a terrible thing to finally grow old. To wake every morning feeling the fresh aches and pains of old war wounds, to watch helplessly as my mind and body both begin to fail me. I see now why many an old soldier chooses to seek one final battle, that they might die in a blaze of glory rather than seek a death in bed, long after their best days are behind them. However, for all the sorrows that age brings, I think I prefer it to the embrace of oblivion, or the other alternatives that have been offered to me.
You will forgive me if my account begins to ramble or depart upon tangents at times. Such is the privilege of old age. One can only hope that whoever faces the difficult task of editing my words into a coherent and readable account curbs the worst such excesses. (1)
1: To be honest, she’s not that bad about it. Then again, I’m just the latest in a string of nine hundred years worth of editors, so maybe the ones who came before me chopped all the worst of it out.
So, having established the reasons I have chosen to share this account with my readers and the rest of Equestria, it would behoove me to offer some additional thoughts on what this account entails. While it is not the only event of significance in my life, I have chosen to restrict my account to the civil war that occurred in the one hundred and tenth year of Celestia’s sole reign over Equestria, commonly known as the Lunar Rebellion. While there are many worthy tales to be told of earlier and later times, it is the Rebellion which weighs most heavily upon my mind. I shall leave any accounts of later events in the hooves of far more capable authors than I.
I have decided to write my account in three parts, the first discussing the events leading up to the beginning of hostilities, the second discussing the early stages of the war, and lastly covering the war’s conclusion and perhaps briefly touching upon its aftermath.
While I have attempted to faithfully recreate all the events of the Rebellion, I will confess that certain details might be literary embellishments on my part. While I should like to think that I have remembered all the important events, one can hardly expect to recall the details of every single conversation one had many years ago. Even the memory enhancement magics offered to me by Archmagus Midnight Sparkle can only bring a limited degree of clarity to events so long past.
So, without further ado, I shall begin my account on the seventeenth day of the Month of Fevers...
It is a troublesome thing to have business in the city of Canterlot.
It seems a rather curious thing to say about one of our sister-races, but in many ways the capital of Unicornia is more alien to me than the lands of other species. The Griffin Kingdoms are alien indeed to ponykind, but griffins and pegasi both share a proud warrior heritage that gives us common ground to build upon. Amongst the unicorns, I have often felt that aside from the basic details of our anatomy we have nothing at all in common. Though that perception has waned as I came to know them better in following years, at the time it was still fresh in my mind.
My mood was not helped by the fact that I could look forward to many future visits to Canterlot. As the newest member of the Ephorate (2), it naturally fell to me to engage in those tasks which the older members found undesirable. Such are the benefits of seniority.
2: The ruling body of Pegasopolis. I will provide a full explanation of the inner workings of the Pegasopolan and Equestrian governments in an editor’s note once I can do so without disrupting Shadow’s narrative flow .
After some consideration, I came to the conclusion that my daughter should accompany me on this excursion. It would be of value to her if she had greater experience with the other races of ponykind. Like many pegasi her age, Gale had almost never ventured down from the clouds to mingle with groundborne races. If she was to succeed me in ruling the clan one day, as I had so recently succeeded my father, then such experiences would no doubt be of benefit to her.
In addition, if serving as a liaison to Canterlot and Commander Celestia was to be a regular part of my duties, I would benefit greatly from having Gale close to hoof. Once she had appropriate time to gain the lay of the land, her subtler skills would be of great value to me. In Canterlot, knowledge was of far more use than a sharp wing-blade, and it was knowledge that was Gale’s stock in trade. I had no doubt that within hours of our arrival she would begin constructing a web of contacts and informants to keep me apprised of events in the city.
In politics, even moreso than on the battlefield, knowledge is the key to victory.
Now that the topic of knowledge had come to my mind, it seemed prudent to assess my daughter’s knowledge of her groundborne counterparts. “Tell me, my daughter, what experience dost thou have with the other pony races?”
My daughter faltered briefly in the air as her wings fell slightly out of tempo for a brief moment. Thankfully, she recovered herself quickly enough. We were still high enough in the sky that a fall would be most unpleasant, and there were few enough clouds to break any such tumble.
My concern for her must have shown on my face, for she gave me an easy, confident smile. “Fear not, Mother. Thy question simply caught me unawares.” I suppose I should have had a bit more faith in her flying abilities—she is a mare grown, after all. In my defense, Gale rarely flies in full armor, but certain proprieties must be observed for a ceremonial occasion on par with meeting Commander Celestia. I must say, even if she normally preferred to gird herself in lighter armor than full plate, my daughter did cut a rather fetching figure in the clan’s red armor. It fit quite nicely with her green coat and blue-and-white mane.
Perhaps I was simply being maternal. As a mother, it is entirely fitting that I worry about her, even needlessly. I can only hope that this does not advance from the occasional bit of worry to outright doting.
After several moments’ consideration, Gale finally answered my question. “I fear I know little of the ground or those who dwell upon it, beyond the basics of my education. I know that earth ponies farm and build, unicorns use magic and craft. Was there something specific thou wouldst ask of me?”
I decided to put her knowledge to the test. It would be most embarrassing if my daughter lacked even the most basic comprehension of our destination and hosts. “Let us focus on unicorns for the moment, given that our business takes us to Canterlot. Our duty is to liaise with the Commander and interact with her court as needed to promote the interests of Pegasopolis.” There was a hint of a smile upon my lips as I amended. “‘Twould be passing difficult to do such a thing if we lack any knowledge of Canterlot, its denizens, and the workings of its own government, wouldst thou not agree?”
“‘Twould prove slightly challenging,” Gale answered with a giggle. Gale’s eyes drifted slightly to the side as she put her mind to work dredging up half-remembered lessons from earlier times. “Unicornia is a monarchy with an entrenched aristocracy who controls most positions of power and influence, though there are magocratic elements as well.” Gale turned to me with a slight frown. “I am curious, Mother, as to why they would believe that bloodlines are of such importance that they should dictate who holds positions of authority.”
“Like many things about our brethren, I confess that it eludes me as well.” I took a few moments to ponder the matter more deeply. “Whether they dwell in the clouds or ‘pon the ground, all ponies share a love for clan and family. Perhaps a belief that bloodline should dictate leadership ultimately grows from such. There is also the matter of practicality—even amongst our own kind, it is rare indeed to see an Ephor or Geronte (3) who does not hail from one of the major clans.”
3: A member of the Gerousia, an advisory body of retired generals.
Gale favored me with a fond smile as she answered, “But our leadership comes from the major clans because any clanless pony who shows talent is adopted into a clan, not simply because bonds of blood make for superior leadership.”
I conceded the matter with a nod. “Still, much like with our major clans, the noble houses of Unicornia control considerable resources.”
“Ah, but of course.” Gale rolled her eyes and gave me a slightly bemused grin. “I forget about the importance of monday in ground society.”
“Money,” I gently corrected her.
Gale gave a very slight grimace at her error. “Why place such importance upon a few shiny pieces of metal? It seems foolish to me. The farmer gets money for his crops, gives it to the blacksmith for his tools, the lumberjacks for wood, the tailor for his clothes, and whatever else is needful.” Gale gave a dismissive wave of her hoof. “‘Twould seem far more efficient if instead of accompanying every single exchange with a hooffull of baubles, they simply provided each other with that which was needed, as we do.”
“Such a thought has often occurred to me as well.” I shot a look in the general direction of Canterlot. The city was still some distance away, but close enough that we could begin to see its gleaming spires and proud towers. “I suspect it might prove difficult for our earthbound kin to emulate our ways. In the clouds we have neither need nor use for most material goods, but on land there are a truly bewildering variety of things that everypony needs or desires. The Ephorate can have difficulty enough satisfying every request for weapons, armor, food, and other such necessities.” I waved a hoof down at the farmland below us. “Imagine the burdens a government would face if it needed to balance every single need and desire for all the hundreds of goods our groundbound counterparts desire.”
“So they use money instead.” Gale brought a hoof up under her chin as she gave thought to the matter. “Thy reasoning is sound, and there is some logic to their ways, strange as it may seem to me. It still seems a needlessly complicated way to resolve such matters, at least to one such as me.”
“Our kin can be passing strange, indeed.” I let out an amused chuckle. “I confess that it took me some time to grasp the purpose of money. The presence of such things as markets still mystifies and annoys me in equal measure. I do not understand why those who dwell on the land feel the need to construct special places for the sole purpose of attempting to cheat each other out of their goods.”
“And thou wouldst have me work amongst such alien ponies, and attempt to exercise my skills in a society I barely understand.” Gale gave a rueful chuckle and slowly shook her head. “Ah, but thou canst be so very cruel to me sometimes, Mother. Have I failed thee in some way, to have earned such harsh punishment?”
“I have every confidence in thy ability to persevere through such challenges.” We were beginning to draw near Canterlot, so I angled my wings so that I would begin gently gliding downwards. “I would never ask something of thee that I believed to be outside of thy ability to accomplish.”
“Let us hope thou art wise in what thou wouldst ask of me, then.” Gale grimaced at a particularly unpleasant memory. “My introduction to cauliflower was … trying.”
“And yet, thou art fully capable of eating it.” I felt the barest of smirks work its way onto my face. “It is simply that thou dost not wish to.”
“One can hardly hold my distaste for it against me when it is so very distasteful,” Gale grumbled. “Let us hope the Commander’s chefs do not serve any while our business keeps us here.” Gale shot me a look and asked. “How long dost thou anticipate our business will require that we linger in Canterlot? Is this to be an extended stay, or a short visit?”
“We will remain here until Commander Celestia no longer has need of us.” My daughter clearly found such an open-ended answer less than enlightening, so I opted to offer her a bit more information. “I do not anticipate an extended stay. The delivery of the Ephorate’s report on the state of Pegasopolis is largely a matter of routine business. So long as there is nothing amiss, we should only need to remain for a few days while the Commander reviews the report and composes a reply.”
“So we are nothing but glorified messengers then?” Gale did not seem pleased with the thought. “Such lofty duties to grant to one of the five leaders of Pegasopolis. Are we to conduct an inspection of latrines once this matter is concluded?”
I will confess that my own thoughts had travelled down similar avenues when I first learned of my assignment. In truth, I think I would prefer an inspection of latrines to becoming mired in the court at Canterlot and dealing with politics. Latrine duty was far cleaner. “Commander Celestia requires that one of her Ephors be present while the reports are under review, in case there are any points that she would inquire upon. ‘Tis far more efficient to have an Ephor ready at hoof than to send messengers back and forth.”
Gale’s nose crinkled slightly as she took note of an inconsistency in my words. “If this be such routine duty, then why am I to accompany thee?”
“Perhaps I merely wished for time to bond with my beloved daughter,” I spared a brief smile for her before returning to the matter at hoof. “While the matter is routine enough, the court at Canterlot is a political center, and one that is nothing like High Command in Cloudsdale. I am on unfamiliar ground, and I wish to know the lay of the land.”
“And the knowledge I can offer thee might be of use if the interests of Pegasopolis come into conflict with those of certain members of the court.” Gale grinned and shot me a sharp salute. “Fear not, Mother. Canterlot holds no secrets that are beyond my ability to uncover.”
The two of us began slowly circling the palace, taking ample time to allow the Commander’s guards to see us and take note of our peaceful intent. While this was largely a matter of ceremony in these harmonious times, we were still fully armed and armored warriors approaching the center of government. A sudden, unexpected arrival might provoke an unfortunate incident if we happened upon a particularly high-strung guard. The Unicornian Royal Guard is not the most disciplined of formations, and in truth I suspect they have no skills other than the ability to cut a striking figure on the parade ground.
“We have not yet landed, and already I look forward to our return to Cloudsdale.” Something about the decorative nature of the Unicornian Guard offended me. That they would play at being warriors when in truth they were little better than living decorations.
“I can believe it.” Gale shot me a distressingly knowing smirk. “Though I cannot help but wonder if thy eagerness to return stems from a longing to see our clanhold again, or if you simply pine for the company of Rightly Doo.”
Now it was my turn to falter in my flight. There are times when having a daughter with such a talent for information gathering can have distressing unintended consequences. “Ephor Doo is pleasant enough company, but methinks thou reads overmuch into the fact that we have enjoyed each other’s companionship.”
“Mayhaps I do.” The smile on my daughter’s face made it abundantly clear that she did not believe a word of it. In fairness, she was right to do so. “Mayhap I have imagined how thy eyes linger overlong upon him whenever he is nearby. One can hardly blame thee when he is so fine to look upon. I am sure the fondness in thy voice when thou speakest of him is nothing but mere friendship and the respect of comrades.”
I felt a hint of choler building within me at her teasing. “Perhaps thy talents could find a more worthy use than to pry into my possible romantic prospects, daughter.”
If my mild rebuke offended her, she did not show it. My daughter knows me well enough to be aware that there was no heat behind it. Less fortunately for me, the fact that I was not truly wroth with her encouraged her to continue in her current course. “Fear not, Mother. Thine eyes are not the only ones which linger.”
Damn her for her spying, but I was glad to hear it. I have not yet had occasion to speak with Rightly upon the matter. His wife and newborn foal both are but a year dead, and despite any feelings that I might have had for him, it would not be proper for me to make such an approach until an appropriate mourning period had passed.
I was, perhaps, a touch hasty in landing, but I wished to place hooves upon the ground so that my daughter might be forced to put an end to the matter—at least for the moment. Gale is well aware that for all of our private closeness, certain proprieties must be observed when we are in the public eye. For all her humor and enjoyment of such diversions, she would not dare make light of me in a way that might be seen as lessening my public regard.
The two of us made our landing a short distance from Canterlot Palace’s main entrance. I confess that while I normally prefer the proud cloud columns and simple efficiency of Cloudsdale to Canterlot’s marble opulence, there was a certain appeal to the palace itself. Certainly it served to convey the splendor and grandeur of the Unicornian monarchy. For all that my rational mind wanted to be offended by the wasteful extravagance of the palace’s rich tapestries, stained-glass windows, and lush carpets, I was still impressed.
As we trotted through the entryway, Gale’s mouth dropped slightly, and her pace slowed as she tarried to look upon a particularly fine tapestry showing Commander Celestia’s defeat of Nightmare Moon. I stepped beside her and gave her a very gentle nudge. “Have a care, daughter. ‘Twould be most unfortunate if we occupied ourselves overlong with taking in the sights and were mistaken for wandering tourists instead of visiting dignitaries.”
Gale blinked several times and forcefully tore her gaze away from the tapestry. “My apologies, Mother. I was simply...” She scuffed a hoof through the carpet as she struggled to find the right words to explain herself.
After a few moments of awkward silence, I had mercy on my poor daughter. “It is quite alright, Gale. Thou art unused to such sights.”
My daughter very slowly nodded, and with a visible effort tore her eyes away from the tapestry. “It is very ... colorful.”
One could hardly blame my daughter for finding the sudden variety that had been introduced to her color palette somewhat distracting. For all that I love Cloudsdale, one can hardly deny that while it is a wonderfully flexible building material clouds do inevitably lead to a certain drabness. With the thankful exception of the ponies who dwell within the city itself, it is a rare thing to see any color in Cloudsdale beyond white cloud and blue sky. For all that its inhabitants might vex me at times, I cannot deny that there is beauty to be found upon the earth. From what I have seen of the ground, there are few places more beautiful than the royal palace in Canterlot.
Perhaps I had erred in bringing Gale here for her first excursion to terra firma. It might have been more prudent to schedule her first missions to simpler places, that she might have time to adjust before we moved on to Canterlot. The sudden introduction of so many new sights might prove to be rather overwhelming for her—it was clearly a struggle for her to remain focused upon our task in the face of Canterlot’s wonders.
Thankfully, my daughter was up to the task. I would have to arrange a proper tour of the palace and the city for her once our business with the Commander came to a conclusion for the day. Best to indulge her curiosity when there was time and opportunity to do so without interfering with our duties, rather than leave it to linger unsatisfied.
“Perhaps our visit to Canterlot shall prove more enjoyable than thou feared, Mother.” My daughter has always been an optimist at heart.
As the two of us approached the Commander’s throne room, a party of Canterlot Royal Guard met us. The commanding officer of the unit was easily identified by the ridiculous amount of ornamentation upon his armor, making him look more akin to a peacock than a proper soldier. Though I had little familiarity with such things at the time, I suspected that if one sold his gold-lined and bejeweled armor in the markets of Canterlot, it would provide a substantial sum that could be put to far more worthy uses than constructing this insult against proper smithing.
To make matters worse, his rank insignia indicated that he was a mere lieutenant. In light of the fact that such armor rested upon what was in truth little more than a doorpony, one shudders to think at how elaborate the higher-ranking officers are likely to make their wargear. Perhaps it is the combat doctrine of the Canterlot Guard to blind their enemies with the magnificence of their armor?
Despite being somewhat shorter than I, the lieutenant still somehow deigned to look down his nose at me. “State thy name and business with Her Majesty Queen Celestia and the Royal Court.”
The condescension in his tone offended my sense of honor, but in my experience it is a rare thing indeed to find a unicorn noble that is not haughty. I shall never understand why the Commander thinks it wise to reserve all officer ranks within the Unicornian armed forces for the nobility. Perhaps it was simply another concession made to those who hold power and privilege, though I should think the Commander could find a way to satisfy her nobles without undermining the effectiveness of her armed forces in the process.
For the moment, however, I would simply have to endure the fact that the Commander has allowed some less than suitable ponies into positions of authority. Since unicorns seem to place such value on every little bit of ceremony and appearances, I drew myself up to my full height and spoke authoritatively. “I am Ephor Shadow Kicker of Pegasopolis, here to deliver the Ephorate’s report on the state of Pegasopolis to Commander Celestia.”
My daughter did her best to imitate my poise. “Captain Gale Kicker of Pegasopolis, and...” She hesitated for a moment, then waved a hoof at me. “I am accompanying the Ephor.”
“I see.” The lieutenant sniffed and turned his nose up at us. “I regret to inform thee that I am unfamiliar with anypony by the name of ‘Commander Celestia’ present at Court today.” His voice reached new levels of condescension as he added. “Art thou, perhaps, thinking of Her Majesty Celestia, first of her name, Queen of all Unicornia, Sol Invictus, Pony of the Three Tribes, Ruler of all Equestria, Duchess of Canterlot ... and so forth?”
I became quite wroth with him, both for the clear insult in his words and improper familiarity with which he addressed me. (4) My tone was quite terse as I answered him. “I speak of Celestia, Commander-in-Chief of the forces of all Pegasopolis, and no other.”
4: At this point I should comment on a language issue that would be lost on most modern readers. Older Equestrian has two different forms of second-person address: “you” and “thou.” Which one is appropriate to use depends on context. “Thou” is normally reserved for close friends, family, and social inferiors , while “you” is more polite and formal. Thus, our less than intelligent lieutenant is offering Shadow Kicker a fairly serious insult by addressing her as “thou” instead of “you.”
The foolish lieutenant opened his mouth to spout some new level of idiocy. Thankfully his sergeant did the duty of veteran sergeants, and stepped between the fool and his folly. “Sir? In light of the fact that they are visiting dignitaries, perhaps we should overlook their desire to adhere to their own customs instead of following Canterlot norms?”
For a moment I wondered if the lieutenant would have wisdom enough to take the opportunity his sergeant had offered him. After several seconds’ consideration, the pretentious guard reluctantly nodded, and conceded with poor grace. “I suppose we can hardly expect those ponies from less sophisticated tribes to grasp the subtleties of proper court behavior.” I suspect he had not intended for us to overhear that statement, but his whispers were not nearly so silent as they should be. The overdecorated lieutenant turned to the two of us and addressed us properly. “Ephor, we shall inform Her Majesty of thy presence here.” He took a very slight step to the side and indicated a door. “Through here, thou will find chambers to adjust thy appearance after thy flight from Pegasopolis, and to store thy weapons and armor.”
I confess I was sorely tempted to press the matter, but there was little to be gained from browbeating a lieutenant who was rather too full of himself. The Commander was waiting for us, after all. I might send Gale to have words with the Captain of the Guard before we departed from Canterlot, though. I rather doubted that a mere lieutenant was authorized to offer such disrespect to visiting leaders from the other tribes. If he acted so before a foreign leader, Equestria might easily face a diplomatic incident.
Still, my pride was not so fragile that I must answer every insult with juris ungula (5). Gale and I proceeded to the waiting room, which was every bit as richly appointed as one would expect from the Unicornian royal palace.
5: An Old Equestria term, which literally translates as “Justice of the Hoof.” A formal term for dueling, which was still legal in Equestria at the time.
Gale settled down onto a chaise and gratefully stretched her wings. “I cannot say much for their manners, but the unicorns do at least grasp the value of comfort.” My daughter shifted about, making herself comfortable. “I do not think there is a room so fine as this in all of Cloudsdale. And to think, this is merely a place us to tarry until the Commander has time to see us.”
“The unicorns are fond indeed of their luxuries.” I did not avail myself of the room’s comforts as my daughter so eagerly did. In truth, I suspect that it is comforts such as these which breed the likes of the foolish lieutenant we so recently encountered. In Pegasopolis such actions would never be tolerated, but the ease and luxury of Canterlot had allowed a certain attitude of indolence and egotism to take root. I suspect that the unicorns as a whole would benefit greatly from incorporating a touch more austerity into their society.
Still, there were a few practical things within the room. First and foremost, a mirror. While I am not given to vanity and indulging upon my appearance, I was to meet with the Commander shortly. It was only fitting that I take a moment to look myself over and ensure that nothing was out of place. The mirror might be larger than I required and studded with pearls and silver along the rim, but it still served its purpose well enough.
Aside from some slight messiness in my mane (and it was inevitable that there would be many stray golden hairs after the flight from Cloudsdale to Canterlot) all appeared to be in order. The braid had held in my tail despite the journey, and I kept my mane short enough that restoring it to order took naught but a few strokes of a manebrush. Thankfully, some practical-minded pony had thought to include one in the room, and even more gratefully it looked more like an actual tool rather than an overstudded luxury to chip my teeth on.
My armor required a few minor adjustments, but that was only be expected. As would anypony facing an extended journey, Gale and I had loosened straps and made other efforts to reduce the discomfort of wearing it while we travelled. Having my breastplate sit ever so slightly crooked is a minor thing on the road, but now was the time to address that issue. Thankfully, the weather had been accommodating enough that Gale and I had not worked up a lather in the process of our travels. ‘Twould be unfortunate indeed if we arrived before the Commander reeking of rust and sweat.
Once the adjustments were made, all was in readiness. Whoever was responsible for stocking the room had not thought to include such useful tools as polish for armor or wing-blade, but I had already anticipated as much, and Gale and I had both seen to the matter last night. My armor was almost gleaming blood-red, sitting quite nicely against the dark grey coat that had inspired my parents to name me Shadow.
Now that I had seen to myself, it was time to look after my daughter. Gale had already taken it upon herself to correct her armor, but there were other matters to address beyond that. Her mane and tail both became rather badly disordered over the course of our journey. Not that this was an unusual state for her to be in—in truth I would scarce recognize my own daughter if mane and tail both were not in a messy, windblown mass. However, we were to meet with the Commander soon, and such things should be attended to. Gale let out a slight murmur of protest as I took the manebrush to her, but offered no further complaint. In truth, I suspect she secretly enjoyed my occasional bouts of maternal doting.
Just as I had begun to make some progress at restoring my daughter’s mane to something at least vaguely resembling order, there was a knock upon the door of our temporary chambers. I set the brush down beside my daughter and took a half-step away. There is a time and a place for maternal affection, but it is not something I usually care to parade about in front of all the world. Especially not if the one at our door was the foolish lieutenant. “You may enter.”
Thankfully, it was not the lieutenant, it was his sergeant. The veteran unicorn dropped halfway into a bow on instinct before remembering just who he stood before, and altering it to a salute instead. “Ma’ams. I wish to apologize for my commanding officer’s behavior. Lieutenant Proud Line is very new to his duties, and still adjusting to the demands of his station. I hope he did not offer you any grave offense.”
I returned his salute, as did Gale. “Despite what the social customs of thy kind dictate, I would say that it is thou who is the true noble and gentlepony, not thy commanding officer.” The sergeant stood a little straighter at that complement. I felt a hint of a grimace on my lips as I announced, “I believe that before my departure I shall have words with the Captain of the Guard about this incident, though I shall be certain to include thy role in resolving it.”
The accommodating sergeant winced and reluctantly shook his head. “I would not advise such a course, ma’am. The Captain of the Guard thinks quite highly of his son, and would not hear a word against him—even from one of your status.”
“Ah. So that is how it is.” Small surprise our less than wise lieutenant would think so highly of himself when his father holds such a position. Even his superiors would not dare to correct his behavior, lest they incur his father’s wrath. Another unfortunate byproduct of Unicornia’s ways, I am sure. When I was younger and more foolish, my own superiors never hesitated to speak of when I erred, even though my father held the post of Ephor until he retired to the Gerousia and I took his place. Or perhaps it was because of his station. In either case, my father would not have tolerated any show of favoritism, and none would dispute that I earned the right to succeed him through talent and hard work. But I digress.
The sergeant gave us both a nod. “With your permission, ma’am, I should return to my post before my absence is noted.”
“Very well, return to thy post, and I thank thee for thy words.” Once the nameless sergeant had made his departure, I retrieved the manebrush and returned to my work upon Gale.
I am hardly a vain mare, but my daughter ought to look her best before the Commander. Call it … maternal professionalism, if you must. It is not every day one makes introduction of one’s daughter to the ruler of all ponykind.
Gale accepted my ministrations for a time, but eventually my doting began to try her patience. As I struggled with a particularly troublesome knot in her mane, she gently put hoof on my shoulder and halfheartedly grumbled. “Mother, while I appreciate thy efforts, I am quite capable of taking care of myself.”
“Hush, my child,” I gently chided her. “Whenever thou attemptest to restore thine own mane to proper order, the result is wanting.”
Gale crossed her forelegs in front of her on the chaise and rested her chin upon them, a slight pout on her lips. “So I am to be treated as but a filly, despite being a mare grown?” My daughter shot me the barest of smirks. “If I am to be treated as such, then thou couldst at least ply my favor with sweets once our business is concluded.”
“That would please thee, I am sure. I have no doubt that something could be arranged—the palace chefs are likely to be most accommodating of any request that one of the Commander’s guests might wish to make of them.” My daughter has always had something of a fondness for anything with a distressingly high sugar content. I confess that I enjoy such things myself on occasion, though rarely as greatly as she does. Pegasopolis might be a place of bare necessities, but even we like to enjoy the simple pleasures of a good confectionary.
While for the most part I care little for luxuries of Canterlot, I will admit that the first time I returned to Cloudsdale after enjoying the Commander’s chefs, it was a painful transition. The clanhold’s mess hall has neither the time nor the desire to produce some of the more complex dishes I have enjoyed at the Palace. Such is the price of having fewer chefs with more ponies to feed between them.
Gale fell silent, no doubt distracted by the possibilities of having a small army of skilled cooks eagerly waiting to fulfill her every whim. Though I pitied the cuisiniers she would shortly victimize, such thoughts did at least still any further token protests to my maternal attentions.
I had finally begun to bring my daughter’s mane to a satisfactory state when there was another rap upon our door. Sadly, this time it was not the sergeant come to make peace, but Lt. Proud Line returned with word from the Commander. Sadly, she had not been made aware of his actions or had an opportunity to correct the deficiencies in his behavior. With any luck, I would have the opportunity to do so before long.
“Her Majesty has deigned to grant thee an audience.” The lieutenant’s tone made it clear that he could not grasp why she would do such a thing. “I shall escort thee to the throne room once thou art prepared to depart, though one can hope that thou will not leave Her Majesty waiting overlong for thy arrival.”
“We are already prepared to meet with the Commander,” I answered tersely.
“Truly?” Line raised an eyebrow and gave the two of us a critical look, as if there were something dreadfully wrong with our appearance. “I see. No doubt thou art unfamiliar with the laws and customs of Court.” Condescension in the form of false politeness dripped from his voice. “Allow me to explain: thou may not enter Court while so armed and armored, it is an insult to Her Majesty and her guards.”
Oh. We certainly would not want to show a lack of respect for certain members of the Unicornian Royal Guard.
Line continued on, oblivious to my thoughts. “To bear arms in Court shows that thou dost not have faith in the Guard’s ability to provide protection to all who dwell within the palace. Furthermore, ‘tis an insult to the hospitality Her Majesty has so graciously offered thee. As such, I am afraid I must ask thee to surrender thy arms and armor—thou hast my word of honor that thy possessions shall be stored in the armory and returned undamaged upon thy departure.”
Gale and I shared a look, and no words were needed for each of us to know the other’s thoughts on the matter. We were in accord. “My blades are in the service of Commander Celestia,” I announced formally. “It is the gravest of insults to both myself and the Commander to ask that I surrender them.”
Line’s second-in-command attempted to step in and defuse the situation once more. “Sir, Her Majesty has always allowed Pegasopolan representatives to remain armed within the palace, and even within her very presence.”
For a moment I hoped that might be the end of the matter. Precedent and policy were clearly not on Proud Line’s side, and prudence dictated that he back down and allow the matter to rest. Unfortunately, it was not prudence that dictated Proud Line’s actions, but wounded pride. Already he had once been forced to give ground and concede a dispute in full view of the ponies under his theoretical command. To those who are young and proud, there are few things more intolerable than the public loss of face. In a way, it was a small miracle that his sergeant had been able to convince him to let the matter rest once.
But a second withdrawal while the memory of the first still burned brightly in his mind was too much for the young noble. And so his pride drove him to action that common sense ought to have prevented. “Guards, secure their weapons.”
The ponies under Line’s command knew the folly of this order as well as anypony, and so instead of following it they looked to their sergeant, hoping he might find some way to countermand the order. While Line was a fool, he was not so much of one that he could not grasp the mood of those under his command. His already wounded pride was no doubt further stung by such a clear sign that they had no faith in his leadership. His cheeks burned with mixed shame and fury. “I have given an order, and thou shalt obey it! Now secure their weapons.”
I spoke my daughter’s name, and she needed no further prompting. Gale flicked a wing in Line’s general direction, and a breath later a steel spike embedded itself in the wall only a hair’s breadth away from Line’s head. The fool jumped back in shock, while the Guards under his command cringed back. For her part, Gale smiled at Proud Line as if they had exchanged casual pleasantries. “You wish to take our weapons? There is one.” She helpfully pointed an armored hoof to the spike, as if there were any chance he might have missed it. “Would you like the rest?”
Line shot wide-eyed looks between Gale and the weapon she had thrown at him as his brain slowly struggled to wrap itself around what had just passed. Shock slowly transformed into a fury. “Thou—thou wouldst dare to attack one of the Queen’s guards within the Queen’s own palace? Monstrous! Guards, take them into custody at once! They may cool their hooves in the palace dungeons until Her Majesty decides upon a fitting punishment!”
After several seconds of stunned silence, the guards under Line’s command approached us with clear reluctance. “I am deeply sorry for this, ma’am,” their sergeant informed me, “but we must follow our commander’s orders.”
“As I am sorry for what shall fall upon thee and thine because of those orders.” I gave the guards who were slowly moving to encircle the two of us a careful, evaluating look. I did not feel particularly threatened. The palace guards are far better suited to ceremonial and decorative duties than proper soldiers’ work. I shifted stance, prepared to move at a moment’s notice, but not yet outright threatening. Gale stepped to the side and turned, so that now she covered my back, not that I particularly expected a surprise attack from these toy soldiers.
The unfortunate sergeant winced and dropped his voice, speaking as privately as he could to me under such circumstances. “Madam, I beg of you, let it end here. Her Majesty will not tolerate your imprisonment, and I would be most upset if something unfortunate happened during any struggle you might choose to offer.”
“Thou needs not be so fearful of what is to come.” I felt the ghost of a confident smile on my face. “I am well-versed in how to subdue an opponent without resorting to lethal force or leaving behind crippling injuries.”
The poor stallion sighed. “Madam, I know of the reputation your race holds for being skilled warriors, but you are outnumbered, and we have magic. There are six of us, and but two of you. Please, it would not end well.”
His count was perhaps a touch optimistic by virtue of including Proud Line as a combatant, but it was not inaccurate. “Thou art quite correct. There is an inequality here that must be attended to at once. Gale? Focus thy attention on the lieutenant, and leave the remainder to me.” I turned back to the very confused sergeant. “Is that an acceptable accommodation, or shall I also bind a hoof behind my back as well?”
At this point, my readers might begin to think me foolishly overconfident. Under other circumstances that might not be an unfair assessment, for even the strongest of warriors would struggle to defeat five opponents simultaneously. For all the disparity in skill between myself and my opponents, numbers do convey a considerable advantage. Especially in a fight where I did not wish to use lethal or crippling force unless absolutely necessary.
However, in this case there were several factors mitigating the numerical disadvantage. The ceremonial polearms of the Canterlot Guard were ill-suited for a close-quarters skirmish such as this, and Gale and I both likely had far more experience in true battle. However, our most important advantage lay in the matter of morale: as Commander Hurricane once famously declared, a single motivated but untrained soldier was worth a dozen trained but unmotivated ones. Though in truth I think he o’ercredited the importance of morale and undercredited discipline. As Lyequinigus herself once said, while morale is important, it is discipline that truly wins battles.
Whatever the case may be, this was a battle my opponents did not wish to fight. Given half an excuse to do so, they would gladly abandon the field. As importantly, they would hesitate to strike, both for fear of eventual wrath from the Commander and because in their hearts they knew that their cause was unjust. Against such opponents, a single decisive and overwhelming strike would suffice to cow them into submission.
“Lieutenant.” I turned to face Proud Line, my expression grim, but confident. “I offer thee one last chance to end this matter without bloodshed. Thee and thine shall stand aside, allow myself and my daughter passage, and that shall be the end of the matter.” Well, at least until I informed the Commander of what had passed here, but why quibble over relatively minor details?
Ever the fool, Line refused to accept the final olive branch I so graciously offered him. “Surrender peaceably, and Her Majesty may offer thee mercy.” The lieutenant let out a malicious little laugh. “Thou shalt find that thou hast erred, and erred greatly, in making an enemy of me, for I and my father—”
I am sure Proud Line would have continued on at some length if we accommodated his desire to do so, but I saw no reason to. I have far more productive uses for my time than indulging the blathering of an idiot child. Additionally, ponies of Line’s dubious caliber rarely expect to be struck unawares, before they have finished strutting about and posturing.
Cruel necessity dictated that the sergeant who had struggled so greatly to prevent matters from coming to a head be my first victim. The other guards clearly looked to him as a leader in the place of their woefully unqualified commander, and when he fell it would devastate their already low morale. Proud Line would need to fall as well, but I had already placed him in my daughter’s capable hooves.
I struck without warning, and opened with the traditional first strike against any unicorn—a sharp blow to the horn. When facing a unicorn in battle, ‘tis always prudent to remove their spellcasting ability as quickly as possible. In almost all cases, a unicorn without their magic is a far lesser threat. While I did not smite him overhard upon the horn, even a relatively light strike would disrupt any spellcasting for the next several seconds. That was more than enough time for my purposes.
The unfortunate sergeant instinctively flinched away to protect his horn from any further harm, allowing me an easy opening to follow my first attack with a wing blade blow to the side of his head. Naturally, I gave him the flat of my blade instead of its edge. It would no doubt leave a very impressive-looking bruise, but there would be no serious harm from the strike. The attack was still more than sufficient to drop the unfortunate sergeant to the ground, though I suspect that had he truly been motivated to do so it would have been within his capacity to continue the fight.
With the sergeant down, that left four ponies standing. I moved for the two standing to my left and swiped a wing blade in their direction. The strike came nowhere close to hitting, but that was never my intention. Instead, the attack served to block my opponents’ view of my hooves for a critical fraction of a second as I shifted my stance. For all the importance of the wings in wielding the blades they carry, one can still deduce a great deal about what one’s opponent is planning merely by noting the placement of their hooves.
If my opponents had been able to see my hoofwork, they might not have been taken quite so badly off guard by my sudden break to the side. Instead, the larger of the two guards was caught completely by surprise when I flanked him, planted my forehooves solidly on the ground, and proceeded to buck him in the side for all I was worth. The strike sent him staggering back into his companion, and the two fell to the floor in a tangle of armor, weapons, and limbs.
That left only two guards still standing, but by now I had largely expended the element of surprise. Thankfully, that was far from my only advantage. One common weakness of our groundborne kin is a certain tendency towards two dimensional thinking. I suppose it is an understandable oversight amongst ponies who can never move any further from the ground than a single jump can carry them.
A quick jump and a few flaps of my wings carried me over and above the both of them, and a spin-flip ensured that I was at the proper orientation when I landed between the two of them. While I could have used my downward momentum to strike a pair of powerful blows, I opted for mercy instead. The edges of my wing-blades on the backs of their necks was a more than adequate statement. “Yield.”
My demand was shortly followed by the sounds of two weapons clattering to floor as both guards wisely complied with my request. With that, the matter was decided. True, the sergeant and the other two were still physically capable of resisting if they truly desired to do so—and might have even made things difficult—but none of them had the heart for it.
As for Proud Line, my daughter had not been kind to him. Two of her throwing spikes had found a home in his forelegs, and the proud unicorn was clearly struggling to hold back tears of pain as he stared down at his wounds in shock. If my daughter’s aim had proven true and Line was the pampered dandy I had every reason to believe he was, then I could safely say that he was in far too much agony to even contemplate spellcasting.
Before I could move on to contemplating how best to address the matter of our having captured several members of the Commander’s Royal Guard, I heard the sounds of hooves stomping upon marble floors. After a few seconds of guarded wariness I realized that this was not the sound of fresh guards come to relieve their fallen companions, but rather that we were being applauded.
A moment later another unicorn appeared from thin air, presumably having concealed herself through the magical arts up to this point, and offered a brief moment more of applause before ceasing. While I had not yet had the pleasure of a proper introduction, I knew this mare quite well by reputation. The Archmagus of Canterlot—and Grand Vizier to the Commander, in her role as Queen of Unicornia—was a rather infamous figure. While Sunbeam Sparkle officially only held power over Unicornia’s affairs, the simple fact that she stood ever by the Commander’s side made her a figure of importance for my purposes as well.
That is not to mention that her position of power over Unicornia’s mages made her important in her own right. While our smiths could craft fine steel at our thunderforges, even the sharpest blade and sturdiest plate could be further improved by unicorn magic.
The Archmagus approached us, contemptuously stepping past the wounded and mewling Proud Line, and respectfully inclined her head to me. “A commendable performance indeed, Ephor.” A faintly amused smirk ghosted across her face as she casually ran an off-white hoof through a mane of red and gold. "'Twould seem that the skill of Pegasopolis’ warriors is not at all exaggerated.” She cast a contemptuous look down at Lt. Line, though in truth her expression was somewhat difficult to read when one of her green eyes remained hidden behind her full mane. “Or perhaps the abilities of our own guards have been allowed to slide into a particularly wretched state.”
Gale shot a faint frown at Sparkle, and I suspect she shared my thoughts in wondering how long the Archmagus had been content to silently witness a steadily worsening situation. Perhaps it would be wise to move on to another topic before Gale said something honest, if perhaps politically unwise. “Archmagus, I do not believe we have been formally introduced.” I formally extended my hoof to her. “I am Shadow Kicker of the clan Kicker, Ephor of Cloudsdale. It is my pleasure to meet you, and to introduce you to my daughter Gale.”
To my annoyance, instead of shaking my hoof as I’d intended Sparkle brought it up to her lips. There are but two ponies I care to be kissed by in any way—one of them is my daughter, and the other is not the Grand Vizier of Unicornia. Once she was done with that minor but still irksome act, her gaze shifted to Gale. “I was under the impression that you had not yet wed, Ephor, let alone so long ago as to have a daughter grown to full adulthood.” The Archmagus fixed Gale with a scrutinizing look for several long moments, then returned her gaze to me. Presumably, the differences in build, color, and other physical traits led to her conclusion. “I see, you adopted.”
I stepped over to Gale and made a point of draping a wing across her back. “She is my daughter.” In hindsight my tone was harsher than the Archmagus’ words merited, but I had heard that adoption was held in fairly low regard amongst unicorns. I suppose it is inevitable, given their obsession with maintaining bloodlines and family ties. Whatever the reason for their odd beliefs, I would not tolerate any disrespect towards Gale simply because she was not the daughter of my flesh, but one of choice. She is my daughter, and any who would gainsay that would face my wrath.
Sunbeam hastily raised her hooves before her, bowing her head in a conceding nod. “Peace, Ephor, it was merely an observation. I meant no offense to either of you.” She looked behind her, and a slight frown creased her face. “I had thought to introduce my daughter in turn, but it would seem that the child has made herself absent.” She took a few more moments to look about her, and then raised her voice with a hint of aggravation. “Midnight? Where art thou?”
A few moments of searching revealed a filly, presumably the missing Midnight, standing before the forgotten Proud Line. She was dark of coat and had an ill-favored look about her, not at all helped by the open fascination with which she stared at the bleeding stallion. With a touch of eagerness that was truly unnerving to hear in the voice of one so young she asked the guard. “Art thou likely to perish from thy wounds?”
Before the lieutenant could offer any answer beyond a pained groan, the Archmagus swooped in and snatched her daughter. “Midnight, I have told thee more than once not to stray from my side, especially when we are in the palace on the Queen’s business.”
The child blinked very slowly, and spoke in a fillyish whine of protest that served to make her words all the more unsettling. “But mother, I have never seen a pony die. I want to know if the light really does leave one’s eyes at the moment of death.”
The Archmagus spared a contemptuous glance for Proud Line, then returned her attention to her daughter. “He will not die, Midnight. His wounds are relatively minor, he simply makes too much of them because he is weak.” The filly opened her mouth for another question, but her mother gently cut off. “I will answer anything else thou might wish to ask later, but for now thou shouldst introduce thyrself, as I taught thee.”
The filly slowly blinked and nodded, then turned to face us and gave a dainty curtsy along with a polite smile that came nowhere close to reaching her eyes. “Greetings. I am Midnight Sparkle, daughter of Archmagus Sunbeam Sparkle. It is a pleasure to meet you both.”
I politely returned her greeting, but Gale saw fit to surprise me. “Archmagus, your daughter is most adorable.” Gale’s voice dropped to a muted whisper as she murmured, “More than passingly strange, and with macabre tastes for one so young, but still adorable.” Gale cleared her throat, and returned to the Archmagus. “Might I have your leave to hug her?”
Sunbeam blinked several times, as if the request had taken her unawares, but then very slowly nodded. “If it would please you to do so, then I see no harm in it.”
A few seconds later the filly let out a surprised squawk of protest as Gale swept her up in her hooves, hugging the child so vigorously that I feared for the safety of young Midnight’s ribs. Gale’s hugs have always been rather ... enthusiastic.
My daughter eventually relented, releasing the Archmagus’ daughter from her grasp. Midnight simply stood upon the floor, staring at Gale silently for several seconds, and then tonelessly announced, “Mother. A strange pony just hugged me. Why did she do that?”
If Gale was remotely disturbed by the filly’s nature, she gave no sign of it. “I hugged thou because thou art an adorable little filly, of course.” Gale dropped her head down to Midnight’s level, and lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “And dost thou know what we do for adorable little fillies?” When the child uncertainly shook her head, Gale eagerly provided her with the answer. “We get them ice cream!” Gale glanced back to the archmagus and offered her a nod. “With thy mother’s leave, of course.”
Midnight’s eyes widened at the offer, and for the first time since meeting her I saw a relatively normal expression upon her face. Childish glee. The filly turned to her mother, an eager grin on her face. “Mother, can the strange pony who has offered me ice cream take me away? Please?”
Archmagus Sparkle shot a brief smile down at her daughter. “I suppose there is no harm in allowing you a small indulgence, though I trust that afterwards thou shalt return to thy studies with renewed vigor?” Midnight eagerly nodded her agreement.
“It shall have to wait until after our meeting with the Commander is concluded, of course.” Shortly after the words left my lips, I found my daughter and the Archmagus’ daughter looking at me as if I had proudly announced my allegiance to Discord and Nightmare Moon both in the space of a single breath. “I am certain the Commander will not ask us to tarry overlong,” I somewhat hastily amended, lest I face the full force of a sad filly and a disappointed daughter.
My answer seemed to satisfy the both of them, and soon they were merrily chattering away with each other. Well, to be more precise Gale was chattering, while the filly answered her questions and showed occasional flashes of normal childishness that only made her oddities stand out all the stronger. ‘Twas most disturbing to see a child who showed almost as much enthusiasm for sweets as she did for the prospect of witnessing a pony’s death.
I could hazard a guess as to why my daughter had taken such interest in the strange young filly. Gale had shared a few of the tricks of her trade with me, one of which was the value of children as an information source. Children will often overhear far more than adults will credit them for, and rarely do they understand the full import of all that passes around them. They are also quick to trust and easily swayed by such simple things as an offer of candy and friendship—I was certain that before long Gale would thoroughly subvert the Archmagus’ daughter.
With my daughter occupied with making a new friend/contact, I fell into step alongside the archmagus herself. “‘Twould seem our daughters are bonding quite nicely.” I was not normally one for small talk and pleasantries, but such things are often expected in Unicornia. When in Roan...
Archmagus Sparkle spared a brief look for her daughter, who was in the midst of eagerly asking Gale about her experiences as a soldier. A brief but entirely genuine smile appeared on the grand vizier’s face. “Indeed, ‘twould seem that my daughter enjoys the company of yours. That is good—she has fewer friends than a filly her age should. Fillies do require a certain level of social interaction if they are develop the appropriate interequinal skills.”
So the dark-minded child with macabre tastes had few friends? One can scarce imagine why that might be. I found it strange that a mother could speak so coldly of her daughter’s lack of friends, but it was becoming quite clear by this point that both of the Sparkles were more than passing strange. Perhaps it was time to take a better measure of the elder of the two. I have heard no shortage of rumors about the Archmagus, but rumor is a poor substitute for fact. “I am curious, Archmagus. How much of the confrontation between myself and the lieutenant did you witness?”
Archmagus Sparkle let out a low chuckle and ran a hoof through her mane. I confess, I was somewhat curious that she did not find the fact her mane fully obscured one of her eyes more troublesome—though there was more than one rumor circulating as to why she chose to keep one eye hidden. “I was not present for the initial confrontation between yourself and that worthless foal, but I saw the latter half unfold in its entirety.” She offered me an approving smile. “I must say, you disposed of the fool quite admirably.”
“You were present for much of the time before weapons were drawn and violence became inevitable?” I left the obvious implications of that statement unspoken. I need hardly have pointed out that the Archmagus of Canterlot could easily have intervened to resolve the matter before bloodshed, even if only a relatively minor amount of it, was the only way to resolve the matter.
“Indeed.” The Archmagus’ lips curled up in a faintly mocking smirk. “Truly, Proud Line is a far greater fool than I had thought.” She gave a cavalier toss of her head. “I suppose I might have intervened to spare him the pain and humiliation you delivered, but truthfully I think it was past time he experienced such a thing.”
“I do not think I could gainsay you on that matter.” I might have smiled ever so slightly, until my darker thoughts reasserted themselves. “‘Tis not Line my thoughts lingered upon, though, but rather the ponies unfortunate enough to serve under his command.” I grimaced at the memory of wounding the sergeant who had done everything he could to prevent matters from ending so badly. “I took no pleasure in fighting soldiers who were only my foes because their commander lacked basic common sense.”
“Yes, I suppose that was their misfortune.” Sunbeam gave a careless shrug and said no more on the matter.
It took a fair portion of my self-control not to scowl at the archmagus for showing such casual disregard for the soldiers within the Commander’s palace. ‘Twould seem that not all of the rumors about her were baseless. Hopefully Gale’s efforts to win the confidence of her daughter would grant further insight into the Archmagus’ designs.
The two of us proceeded along in somewhat painful silence for a few moments, until the Archmagus delicately cleared her throat. “I am curious, Ephor. How long do you and your daughter intend to remain in Canterlot?” She moved a bit closer to me, within what most would consider to be their personal space, and her voice dropped to a low, sultry whisper. “If your daughter is to be entertaining mine for the duration of your visit, ‘twould only be fair if you allowed me to offer you a few pleasant diversions in turn. I am sure Her Majesty would approve of us fostering improved relations between Unicornia and Pegasopolis.”
After several seconds of careful deliberation, I answered her offer. “It is my understanding that Canterlot holds the finest libraries in all of Equestria. We’ve fewer books than I would like in Cloudsdale; if you could offer me a tour of the facilities, that would be most appreciated.”
The archmagus gave a barely perceptible stumble and blinked several times. I suspect she was unused to being rejected so flatly. She was certainly comely enough, at least as far as I could appreciate the beauty of a mare, but from what I had seen of the vizier, her character was every bit as foul as her flesh was fair.
After several seconds of furious silence, the Archmagus answered me, her voice tense with fury and perhaps a hint of humiliation. “I am sure I can have one of the servants arrange something suitable for you.”
‘Twould seem that rejecting her might have made an enemy of her, or at least undone whatever amicable relations might have blossomed from the friendship between our daughters. I suspect that if not for the upset it would no doubt cause her daughter, the archmagus might have attempted to put an end to that as well.
We came within earshot of the throne room before we were within sight of it. ‘Twould seem that the Commander was still presiding over the Unicornian Court at the moment. The Traditional Royal Canterlot Voice carries rather well.
Gale reluctantly broke from young Midnight’s side and returned to mine. The Archmagus excused herself and entered a few moments before us to take her place at the Commander’s side and announce our arrival. Then, it was time for us to make our own entry.
I took the lead, with Gale marching on my right side a half-step behind me, as befits a subordinate officer. The two of us made for quite the sight, marching into the throne room armed and girded for war. Certainly, we made for a marked contrast to the painted dandies and finely-appointed ladies who filled the Commander’s court.
I truly wonder why she chose to make Canterlot her primary residence when it requires such a large cadre of idle nobility demanding her presence. I suppose that I can understand why the Commander does not dwell in Cloudsdale, given that two thirds of her subjects cannot even reach the city. However, surely the earth ponies could offer her accommodations that came with a greater measure of practicality and fewer useless hangers-on continually attempting to curry her favor. Perhaps the easy luxuries of Canterlot had seduced the Commander into remaining here, despite the accompanying aggravations.
I stopped before the throne and formally saluted Commander Celestia, drawing a few annoyed grumbles from the nobles. No doubt they expected me to grovel and genuflect as they did, but she was not a queen to me as she was to them. She was the Commander, and one salutes their superior officers.
The Commander returned our salutes (6), and thankfully moderated her volume before she spoke. “Shadow Kicker, I am pleased to see thee. I trust that all is well in Cloudsdale?”
6: Presumably this means that Gale saluted Celestia as well, though Shadow does not explicitly confirm it.
“As well as it ever is.” I used a wing to gently nudge my daughter forward. While my daughter was clearly trying to show the confidence and poise expected of a Kicker and an officer of Cloudsdale, she still shuffled her hooves uncertainly as she stepped up. I suppose a hint of nerves at meeting the Commander was understandable. “Commander, it is my pleasure to present to you my daughter, Gale Kicker.”
The Commander offered Gale a benevolent smile and a slight nod. “It is my pleasure to meet thee, Gale. I am sure thou hast made thy mother and thy clan very proud.”
“It is my ardent hope that I have done so.” There was the slightest of nervous squeaks in my daughter’s voice when she addressed the Commander, but when next she spoke it was with slightly more confidence. “And I hope to continue to do so, and serve you well.”
The Commander nodded to her again. “I am sure that thou shalt do so.” The matter of introductions concluded, she turned once more to face me. “I presume thou art here to deliver the Ephorate’s report on the state of Pegasopolis and the Gerousia’s latest round of recommendations and requests that require my approval?”
The Archmagus, who up to this point had been quite content with merely mingling amongst the crowd of nobles, chose to speak up in a half-whisper that was clearly intended to be heard by all. “No doubt their requests for new materials are as inflated as ever.” The remark drew several chuckles from the assembled nobles.
The barb rankled, but I would not give her the satisfaction of seeing that or even acknowledging the comment. Instead, I opened my saddlebags and placed a considerable stack of documents before the Commander. “I shall remain at your disposal while you review the reports, in case there are any matters that you require a member of the Ephorate to clarify.”
“Very well.” The Commander saluted once more. “I would ask that thou and thy daughter avail thyselves of my hospitality for the duration of thy stay in Canterlot.” A slightly sad smile graced the Commander’s face as she added. “I wish that we could speak at greater length, but I fear that as much as Commander Celestia would enjoy speaking with thee, Chancellor Celestia is already overdue for a meeting with Fertile Fields to discuss the preparations for this year’s planting season.” The Commander dropped her head nearer to mine, and privately added. “There are times when I feel that managing three different realms, each with their own government and traditions, is almost more trouble than it is worth.”
After that private aside, Commander Celestia cleared her throat, and I braced myself for what was to come. “THE BUSINESS OF THE ROYAL COURT IS CONCLUDED. WE THANK THEE FOR ATTENDING UPON US, AND LOOK FORWARD TO MEETING WITH THEE ALL AGAIN AT TONIGHT’S ROYAL BANQUET. ”
So there was to be a banquet? Well, fine food was the one luxury Canterlot had to offer which I could appreciate. Perhaps, despite the troubles with the guards and Archmagus, this was not an entirely lost cause.
Much to my displeasure, speaking with Duke Polaris would require a visit to the Commander’s Royal Court. ‘Twas a necessary evil—I could hardly place my own dislike of Court o’er the need of Equestria. Though I was no expert on the ways of unicorns, I knew them well enough to grasp that I could hardly show up at the Duke’s residence unannounced like a common petitioner. Foolish though it might be, the unicorns placed a great deal of importance upon status and appearances. If I did not present myself as Polaris’ equal in every way, I would almost certainly be treated as an inferior. That was something I would not abide.
The Court was e’en worse than I remembered it, though likely some of that was a product of the changed circumstances before me. In my prior visits, it was a passing inconvenience which I would shortly be done with ere I returned to Pegasopolis. Now, ‘twas likely to be a fixture of my life ‘til the war’s end. ‘Twould be shallow to say this fact made me e’en more eager to see the conflict settled quickly, but I could hardly deny that a part of me looked eagerly towards the day when I could return my clan to the clouds, far away from the ponies of Canterlot.
My poor opinion of the Commander’s court was not helped in the slightest upon my arrival there, for I found the unicorns had enacted a new travesty since my last visit. On my previous visits, the courtiers had draped themselves in all manner of elaborate costumes and jewelry, but such was to be expected. Now, however, they had adopted mockeries of military uniforms, though bedecked with so much in the way of heavy brocade and gemstones that said costumes would likely fall apart if their wearers exerted themselves too greatly at their evening meals, let alone the activities of the battlefield. Many of them were bedecked in honors and medals, despite most of Canterlot’s nobility being either too round of belly or thin-limbed to have ever seen combat.
It was distressingly easy to find Duke Polaris, for a single glance at his current attire made it plain that his primary strategy for winning the war would be to blind his enemies with the light reflected off the many, many medals adorning him. I would hazard that there was not a single stitch of the entire ensemble that had not been covered by at least two layers of finery. Still, at least he would play the role of an acting general soon enough, which made the display slightly less offensive. ‘Twas possible he had not started and did not care for this particular trend, but was a slave to it nonetheless.
‘Twas a thin hope, given what Copper relayed to me, but if I was to find myself in alliance with this Duke Polaris shortly, I would cling to whatever hope I might gain. If I wanted an agreement with a pony whose mere presence sickened me, I would have taken Copper’s suggestion of speaking with Sunbeam Sparkle.
As I approached, I drew myself up to my full height. Compared to the pampered elites of the Royal Court, I was quite imposing, and e’en those who were taller than me could not match the obvious strength within my frame. To his credit, Polaris had a more respectable appearance than most of the nobles within the court, aside from his uniform. He was of a height with me, and while he lacked a warrior’s strength, he had not grown weak or fat from a life of indolence like so many of the courtiers. His white coat was immaculately groomed, and his black mane was shot through with streaks of grey that lent him an air of experience without leaving the impression that he was too aged to lead. Despite my misgivings regarding his competency, now that I saw the stallion for myself ‘twas plain enough why so many of the unicorns flocked to his banner. He looked the part of a stallion who could lead Unicornia through this crisis.
As would be expected of a noble of his status, he was accompanied by the usual retinue of lesser courtiers hoping they might gain some favor by attending him, fawning approvingly at his comments and laughing at his jokes. Sycophants, the lot of them. To my immense relief, when Polaris noted my approach he spoke a few words to them, and they withdrew to a respectful distance. The Duke then turned to me, offering a welcoming smile. “Ah, Lady Shadow Kicker, it is a pleasure to at last make your acquaintance properly.”
“Duke Polaris,” I answered evenly. “I am equally pleased to meet you.” E’en if it might improve my chances of making a favorable impression, I would not lower myself to the shameful displays of his many sycophants. He would treat with me as an equal, or not at all. Still, some concessions to the nature of Unicornian society would have to be made, and so I politely tolerated the kiss he bestowed ‘pon my extended hoof.
Thankfully, the Duke shortly released my hoof. “I trust your clan has begun settling into their new accommodations? Please, if there is anything I might do to aid you in the matter you need but ask. My allies within the guilds would be more than happy to assist you as a personal favor to me. The same with the magi, of course.”
Though Pegasopolis had not known money, favors were a currency that e’en the ponies in the clouds often traded in. I was not so naive as to miss the full meaning of his words. A favor offered must be returned, and by making mention of his own contacts he reminded me that I was sorely lacking in such. Not the most subtle of gambits, but an undeniably effective one. Thankfully, I was quite capable of defending against it. “My clan has the skills to render the old fortress habitable, and Commander Celestia has already pledged her aid in seeing it done.”
Though I might be lacking in the many allies of those long-established in Canterlot, I did have one undeniably powerful asset. Celestia might have named Polaris her general, but that was more a matter of politics than belief. Commander Celestia’s full faith and support was a valuable resource, albeit an asset that would need to applied carefully. ‘Twould be unwise to impose upon Commander Celestia more than was strictly needful, but it would be equally unwise to neglect the option entirely.
Polaris offered a slight nod, acknowledging my counterpoint without conceding the matter. Now that we had properly established our positions, we could move on to properly negotiating over the matter. Polaris appeared to have reached the same conclusion, as he dispensed with the pleasantries and moved to the matter at hoof. “No doubt, madam, you wish to discuss the same topic that is on the lips of every other pony in Equestria: the war.”
“As you said, it is the topic of the hour.” I swallowed a small measure of my pride for what was to be said next. “I have heard that you are to command Equestria’s armies in the field. I would offer my congratulations on the promotion, and wish you luck in the endeavour.”
“Thank you for that kindness, Lady Shadow.” He turned to me, his blue eyes fixing me with a piercing gaze. “No doubt a warrior of your considerable experience could be an asset on the battlefield. ‘Tis a pity that there are complications in the matter.”
Ah, now we moved to the heart of the matter. “Complications?”
“Indeed.” Polaris signalled a passing servant, obtaining a glass of wine for himself. I noted that he did not have the courtesy to ask if I wished one as well. “I am sure you understand how such things stand, madam. The court is filled with idle gossip, and for all that I do not believe a word of it, many of my supporters are more credulous. I find myself forced to at least make some accommodation to rumor, e’en though ‘tis plain to any who have eyes and ears that there is no truth to be had.”
“What rumors do you speak of?” I struggled to keep my tone calm and even, for I suspected that what would next be said would be most displeasing.
“‘Tis naught but the idle gossip of court, madam.” The more reassurance Polaris offered, the more ill at ease I became regarding the eventual revelation. “However, since you have asked after it, I shall repeat it. ‘Tis said by many that you participated in Pegasopolis’ government after Her Majesty’s position was usurped by the traitors.”
“I did retain my old position in the Ephorate, aye.” I suspected the likely direction of his next comment, and moved to forestall it. “With Commander Celestia’s full approval, of course. Had she asked it of me, I would have removed myself from the Ephorate, but she felt ‘twould better serve Equestria’s interests if there were at least one voice in the council that spoke in her favor.”
“Quite so,” Polaris answered agreeably, though ‘twas only a moment before a frown appeared on his face. “Still, many of those I’ve spoken with are troubled by the thought that you served in the traitor government. Some would even go so far as to call it an act of treason against Her Majesty.”
As I’d suspected it would, Polaris’ remark kindled my wrath. That the pampered popinjays of the Royal Court dared speak so of me was intolerable. These fools and dandies who knew nothing of war or sacrifice, whose sole contribution to Equestrian society was to grow fat ‘pon the exertions of others, now thought to deride me? What right had they to do so? None! I had half a mind to demand the satisfaction of juris ungula from one of them.
I might well have given heed to that fury, were it not for the fact that I doubted Polaris had informed me of the talk from the goodness of his own heart. ‘Twas entirely possible he’d spoken of it solely to incite my wrath, in the hopes that I might make a fool of myself. That suspicion was strengthened by his next remark. “To those who give credit to the talk, your return to Her Majesty’s side only worsens your position. A pony who has twice turned her coat can hardly be considered reliable.” Polaris held up a hoof to forestall any response I might offer to the accusation. “I, of course, understand your position, and I am sure you understand that despite giving this talk no credit, I cannot afford to ignore it.”
“Certainly.” Privately, I seethed at his comments. However, Polaris’ words were carefully chosen to avoid giving me cause for offense. Always, he was careful to say that he merely repeated the words of others while expressing his own personal disagreement with them. In truth, I might have been tempted to believe his efforts at sympathy, had his presentation been different. As it was, I could not quite shake the certainty that his assurances were false. Indeed, I even began to suspect that the source of these rumors might well stand before me. None had more to gain from blackening my name than he. E’en the damnable Sunbeam Sparkle was a less likely source; though we despised one another, she did not profit from damaging my reputation. Though I did not trust her morals, I could trust her lust for power.
Polaris’ next words did nothing to dispel my suspicions. “If you wish, I am sure I could have words with a few ponies and put a stop to the rumors. I would have acted sooner, but I was unsure if that would be presumptuous of me. I would not want to give offense, after all.” He offered a smile that, for all its seeming sincerity, did not reach his eyes.
“Let them say what they will, it matters naught.” I would certainly not give Polaris the satisfaction of begging his aid in resolving an issue that he himself had likely manufactured so as to put me in his debt. “Regardless, I came to speak with you regarding military affairs, not the prattling of fools within Court.”
“Of course, of course,” Polaris answered breezily, waving the matter aside. “To the business of state, then. I would not presume to waste your valuable time with idle talk.” There was a note of condescension in Polaris’ voice that I cared little for, but as with all his actions there was nothing so overt that I could be justified in taking offense to. “Now, what precisely did you wish to discuss in regards to the war effort?”
I once more reminded myself that however unpleasant Polaris might be, I had to make some allowances for the good of Equestria. Let him say what he would, and have his proxies spread lies that nopony worth considering would believe, if that be the price of securing Equestria for the Commander. “As I am sure you would know, I am familiar with the methods and capabilities of the Pegasopolan clans, as well as their strategic and tactical doctrines.”
“But of course,” Polaris readily agreed. “But then, much the same could be said of their familiarity with you and your own clan, could it not? Especially considering the fact that your own father is among the rebel leaders.”
“My father is dead.” ‘Twas a considerable effort to maintain my outward calm in the fact of those words. “Clay Striker died years ago, in the service of Equestria.” So that my meaning would not be mistaken, I added, “Cyclone Cumulus is a traitor to clan and country both, and dishonors my father’s memory and all that he did in life.”
“Yes, of course.” Polaris answered, his disinterest in the subject not e’en remotely concealed. “Still, the fact remains that your clan has many ties to those within the rebel ranks. Your clan left behind wives, husbands, parents, friends, lovers, and children. None could blame them if they felt some lingering loyalty to those who were so recently near to their hearts. Still, those bonds could create complications on the battlefield, could they not?”
“My clan knows its duty.” I met his eyes unflinchingly. “Every single pony within our ranks is ready and willing to fight and die for Commander Celestia, if need be.”
“I would never think to question it.” Polaris paused, then heaved out a sigh that was far too heavy and dramatic to be genuine. “However, there is another matter which concerns me regarding your clan. I presume, of course, that they would fight in the manner of Pegasopolis, as they have in the past. And that they would answer directly to you, and you alone?”
“That is the way of things,” I confirmed.
“That will make it rather difficult to integrate them into Unicornia’s armed forces,” Polaris declared. “Her Majesty’s prior attempt at creating an all-breeds military showed the problems of combining differing systems of command. integrating the pegasi would be no easy task e’en without the complications it would to the chain of command. Though none would question your mastery of Pegasopolan combat methods, your clan would have to fight alongside a Unicornian army. If we let them go into battle untrained...” Polaris briefly trailed off, then offered a bemused smile. “Well, it would be much like a pony taking to the dance floor when one of their hooves did not act in concert with the other three. I’m afraid both you and your clan would need a goodly while to familiarize yourselves with our own tactics, and find some way to incorporate your clan within our military structure. Loyal pegasi are such a preciously rare resource in these times, and I would not squander them in easily preventable blunders.”
I could scarcely believe my own ears. “With all respect due to your position, the warriors of Pegasoplis are already familiar with unicorn methods. ‘Twould be the height of foolishness for us to be wholly ignorant of the tactics used by our closest allies. I have studied the combat doctrines of every single species we’ve had diplomatic contact with, and have even read on the subject of those species which have no martial tendencies. I have every confidence that my clan could work alongside the forces of Unicornia and those earth ponies who have remained loyal to the Commander.”
“Perhaps so,” Polaris conceded, “but e’en if your clan is equal to the task, I doubt the earth pony militias and the levies raised by some of our less dutiful nobles are as educated. ‘Tis likely best your clan is held back from battle, regardless. Given the numerical disparity, I do not think they would enjoy contesting the skies ‘gainst their former comrades. In fact, the threat of your clan’s arrival on the field might prove more valuable to us than its reality.”
Could Polaris truly intend to remove his best soldiers from the field of battle? ‘Twas utter madness. “I cannot deny that ‘twould be impossible for my clan to drive all Pegasopolis from the sky, but our strength could be carefully husbanded to strike at key points in order to prevent the enemy from enjoying total supremacy in the air. We need not hold the entirety of the sky, but we can hold a few important areas at vital times.”
“Or I could have the magi simply tear the enemy from the skies,” Polaris answered, a touch of proud arrogance entering his tone. “My cousin Ahfa, the Archmagus of Canterlot, has assured me that their strength is more than equal to the task. And ‘twill likely be a far easier to see it done if there is no need to distinguish friend from foe ‘pon the battlefield.”
I thought that assessment a grossly o’eroptimistic one. Though the magi wield considerable power, Rightly and the other Ephors would not be so foolish as to present themselves in the open and politely wait for the magi to cut them down. At a guess, the rebels would use feints to draw the magi into wasting their strength against insignificant targets, then close in once the magi had expended the bulk of their energies. ‘Twas how I would fight a unicorn army in the field.
“‘Tis likely for the best that we fight this battle alone, regardless,” Polaris continued, unaware of my thoughts. “There is some trepidation amongst the lower ranks at facing the warriors of Pegasopolis in battle. A victory on our terms will be good for morale. If your clan were present, too many might feel that they were our only hope for victory. That unicorn and earth pony could not contend against the might of the pegasi unaided. I would have them see that they can stand on their own strength first.”
More likely, he did not wish to risk sharing any credit for the victory. If I stood at his side in the battle, how many ponies would say that the victory was only gained through my counsel? Though given what he had unveiled of his own thoughts on how war ought to be fought, I suspect that unless he wisely refrained from speaking his own thoughts in favor of parroting mine, he would be unlikely to see victory regardless.
“I am sure that in due time, I can find a place for you and your clan, Lady Shadow.” Polaris concluded. “Until then, I wish you the best of luck in your future endeavours, and bid you good day.” The Duke offered a polite nod, then turned about and rejoined his sycophants. For a brief moment, I was sorely tempted to test my blade’s edge ‘gainst his neck.
Sadly, that could not be more than a passing fancy.
With my business done and my mood far too foul to continue enduring the travesty that was Celestia’s Royal Court, I made for the exit. Those few painted fops who stood ‘twixt myself and the exit wisely removed themselves from my path, for with my conversation with Polaris now finished I saw little need to conceal the fury it had kindled. I swiftly made my way to the doors and left the throne room, intent on returning to my clan’s new compound and overseeing the efforts there until I was fit for polite company once more.
Alas, such was not to be. Though I left the throne room without incident, I had not yet cleared the palace grounds before I found my path barred by a most unwelcome sight: former archmagus and grand vizier Sunbeam Sparkle.
She met me with a faintly mocking smirk. “Ah, I see from the state of your temper that your discussions with Duke Polaris are at an end. I did warn you that you would find him e’en more intolerable than I.” When I made it plain that I had no intention of stopping in my present course, e’en if it meant trampling her underhoof, she wisely fell in at my side instead. I would have preferred her complete absence, or in truth, an excuse to do violence ‘pon her. “I would offer you the hospitality of my tower, Shadow. There are many matters we must discuss, now that—”
“When have I ever given you cause to think I would have words with you?” I snapped. “We have nothing to discuss.”
Despite my clearly expressed wishes, Sunbeam Sparkle did not leave my company. “I do not ask that you name me a dear friend, or e’en that you like me. However, ‘tis plain to see that we have a common enemy and share common interests, at least for the moment. I am not so foolish as to deny our best general a place on the battlefield merely for the approval of the chattering fools at court. You have Her Majesty’s favor, but lack in allies. I have many allies, but lack Her Majesty’s approval. ‘Tis simple logic, and I am sure any difficulties ‘tween us can easily be addressed in the course of negotiating the terms of our arrangement. All you would have to do is speak to Queen Celestia on my behalf, and we could—”
I whirled upon her, my lip curling back in disgust. “I would sooner return to Pegasopolis and pledge myself to the cause of traitors than name you as friend and ally, especially before the Commander.” I pointedly turned my back on her. “There are more ponies in Unicornia than you or Polaris. I shall find another way to achieve my goals.” Having said my piece, I took the skies to avoid any further interaction with the former archmagus.
Though I was spared her physical presence, I could not fly fast enough to deny her the opportunity to offer one final remark. “Have a care, Shadow. Ponies in your position can hardly afford to reject those who offer them friendship. Even a dog has sense enough to not go begging for scraps from another’s table when a full meal is placed in front of it.”
Though I did not bestir myself to speak my answer to her, it echoed within my mind. Any meal offered by Sunbeam Sparkle, however fine it might look, would inevitably be poisoned. She was a foul mare, and nothing good could come of associating myself with her.
Though I had exhausted my best hope for gaining an ally within Canterlot, I could hardly abandon all hope after a single failure. The one shred of useful information I had gained from both Sunbeam and Polaris was that ‘twas well known I stood high in Commander Celestia’s graces. Given that, the reasonable course of action was to seek allies within the Crown faction Copper had told me of previously. By his own words, none had yet risen to fill the gap left by Sunbeam Sparkle’s fall from grace. ‘Twas an opportunity for me to not only gain allies, but establish myself as a power in my own right. Perhaps ‘twas for the best that the negotiations with Polaris ended so poorly; far better that I gather a coalition to serve my own interests than align myself to a faction I considered distasteful in order to gain the political power I required.
As Copper had already briefed me on the major powers within the Crown faction, it was simply a matter of deciding who I should approach first. In that regard, there was one group which stood above the others for reasons of prior acquaintance: the Order of Sol Invictus.
In the past, I had little contact with the militant arm of the Cult of Sol Invictus. The Cult itself was known to me, although it had never been o’erly popular within Pegasopolis. Though many have said that Commander Celestia is like unto a goddess, my own dealings with her have left me disinclined to believe such. While she is a pony of considerable power and possesses the experience of many mortal lifetimes, she remains a pony nonetheless. She is fallible, and every bit as prone to giving rein to her emotions or flights of fancy as any other.
Still, that was a comparatively minor difference of opinion. The Cult and Order believed what they would. It was of little matter to me what other ponies believed, save that it ensured they would be loyal to Commander Celestia above all others. And unlike Sunbeam or Polaris, the Order was an eminently respectable organization. (1)
1: While I’m sure many of my readers are already quite familiar with Sol Invictus, there’s no harm in briefly outlining their core belief structure and common activities. While their core belief in Celestia’s effective goddesshood and that she serves as an exemplar to all ponykind remains unchanged, their role in Equestria has undergone a major shift since Shadow’s time. Though Sol Invictus still engaged in many of the charitable operations they’re known for today, one of their main charitable acts during Shadow’s time was funding the Knightly Order of Sol Invictus. Though the Order originally only provided security to members of the cult engaged in charitable activity, they soon expanded to more active roles. After all, killing monsters, warlocks, and brigands arguably qualifies as a form of charity. I'm sure the ponies who saw threats to the safety of their communities permanently removed would agree.
However, I had another errand to quickly attend to ere I approached the Order’s base in Canterlot. A stop by my clan’s new hold was no great inconvenience, for the Order had adopted a similar home in another one of the old fortresses. ‘Twas likely their example that had inspired Commander Celestia to suggest the same for my own clan.
Though I had considered approaching the grandmaster of the order directly, Copper had counseled a different course. Grandmaster Crossguard was aged enough for the years to rest heavy ‘pon him, especially with the burdens of the coming war. To simply visit him unannounced might well prove unwelcome, so ‘twould be better to speak with one of his trusted subordinates first so as to gain an introduction. Of those, Knight-Captain Noble Quest and Chief Hospitaller Pure Heart had immediately caught my attention, primarily from the fact that I had previously met their son, Radiant Day.
I found young Nimbus hard at work surveying our new clanhold. Though we had taken ownership of it with Celestia’s blessing, relocating a clan for permanent groundside residency was no small task. Gale and I had only done the most rudimentary scan of the compound, leaving the details of the arrangement to our trusted subordinates. Much as I cared for my clan’s wellbeing, I could hardly afford to concern myself with personally overseeing the sleeping arrangements of every single pony within our ranks. ‘Twould be an insult to the capabilities of my own younger officers as much as a waste of my own time.
I was accordingly pleased when I observed that Nimbus was not attempting to handle matters herself, but was watching over a dozen soldiers marking out where sleeping bunks would be placed and divvying up the room per her instructions. Nimbus herself was content to walk about the room, not lingering overlong in any one place, save that problems had emerged requiring her intervention. My earlier assessment of her potential had indeed been accurate. ‘Twas fortunate that she’d survived her wounds at the griffon’s talons.
When Nimbus noted my presence she promptly saluted. “Materfamilias, it is a pleasure. Matters are proceeding apace, and I anticipate we shall be done with our task ahead of schedule.”
“Very good.” A quick glance about the room showed that the soldiers did indeed seem to be making satisfactory progress. “I trust, then, that thy ponies can continue the task well enough in thine absence, for I have another task in mind for thee.”
“Oh?” Nimbus’ ears stood at attention, curiosity shining in her eyes as the rest of her body signalled her eagerness to serve. I often envy the young that spark of enthusiasm, for it fades all too quickly in the face of the harsh realities of a warrior’s life. “I am at your disposal, Mater.”
“Then follow.” I wasted no more time, turning about and taking to the sky, leading the way towards the Order’s compound. Explanations could occur alongside flight. “I have business with the Order of Sol Invictus. In particular with the parents of Radiant Day.”
As I had expected it would, the news brought a hint of color into Nimbus’ cheeks. “I am glad to hear it, then.” None who had eyes could have failed to note how Nimbus and Radiant had enjoyed one another’s attentions during his visit to Cloudsdale. At the very least, that provided a serviceable reason to have words with Radiant’s parents beyond mere politics. More importantly, ‘twould please the both of them. War is a grim business, and there are times when ‘tis good to be reminded that there is more to life than darkness and despair. ‘Twould certainly be a far better use of my time than speaking to grand viziers both past and present.
Upon my arrival at the Order’s compound, I discovered a most welcome sight: a training yard filled with unicorns at work honing their skills. ‘Twas as if I’d found a small piece of Cloudsdale in the midst of Canterlot. I was sure many of the magi had been similarly occupied, but for all my respect for the mage’s arts, they lacked the familiarity of steel on steel. Though the weapons and methods of the unicorn knights were far different, often employing telekinetic spells to control weapons rather than hoof and wing, ‘twas still an echo of what I had left in my old home. As pleasant as the sight was, ‘twas also a bitter reminder of all that I had left behind. For neither the first nor last time, I regretted the price of my loyalty to Commander Celestia.
I o’erlooked the compound from above, seeking a pony who matched the descriptions of Radiant’s parents. Before I could manage the deed, Nimbus found the object of her affections. I will readily concede that I could grasp the reason behind it; Radiant Day looked every bit the image of a noble knight of Unicornia. A fine white coat, golden glowing mane, and a build that would have suited a warrior of Pegasopolis. Had I been a younger mare, I might have been as taken with him as she.
Matters were not helped in the slightest that he was in the midst of a spar, allowing him a chance to display his prowess for her. I recognized his opponent as Magus Daylight Shimmer; e’en from this distance, his tall, thin, but toned build, orange coat, and red mane were quite distinctive.
‘Twas a most unusual contest, as Radiant struck about with a halberd, seeking a hole in the magus’ defenses, whilst Daylight countered his strikes with quickly conjured burning blades. The battle might have continued for some time, if not for the fact that Radiant’s eyes briefly fell upon Nimbus. The moment of distraction cost him dearly, allowing Daylight to land a winning blow.
There is a time and a place for young lovers to exchange longing gazes. ‘Tis not in the midst of a spar.
As we landed, Radiant slowly lifted himself up from the ground. Thankfully, ‘twould seem the only wounds he had sustained were to his pride. A painful injury indeed to the young, especially given his current audience, but one that would recover. If anything, Nimbus seemed inclined to rush to his side and worry over his nonexistent wounds. Love often has such an effect on the young.
Ere Nimbus could entirely forget herself, another development occurred that halted her path. A unicorn mare rushed to his side, taking the very role Nimbus had thought to assume. The mare was younger than Radiant, nearly too young, but aged enough to have flowered to proper marehood, a white coat barely tinged with a hint of gold and a deep purple mane lent her a most becoming appearance, e’en if the long-limbed awkwardness of youth had not fully left her yet. Nimbus immediately ceased all motion towards Radiant, and a faint frown graced her face.
Radiant must have read her mood, for he proceeded towards us as quickly as he could without sacrificing what remained of his dignity. As he approached salutes were exchanged, though I suspect ‘twas more for Nimbus’ benefit than my own—if not for a nudge from the mare at his side, he might have failed to salute me entirely. ‘Twas quite plain he had eyes for nopony else. “Milady Shadow, Nimbus Kicker, it is a pleasure.” Nimbus answered him with a cool gaze, prompting Radiant to hastily pull the unicorn forward. “Allow me to introduce my sister, White Knight. She is my sister. And also my squire. But most importantly of all, my sister.”
‘Twas a struggle not to chuckle at the stallion’s awkward desperation to explain the matter to Nimbus. Daylight Shimmer seemed to share my opinion on the matter, whilst young White Knight regarded her elder brother with a degree of exasperated irritation that was wholly unique to the young, then stepped forward, regarding Nimbus critically. “So, you are the one whom my brother speaks of so fondly? ‘Tis a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Nimbus Kicker.”
The young squire offered a hoof, and Nimbus readily shook it. “The pleasure is entirely mine, White Knight. Might I ask what Radiant says of me to have so piqued your interest?”
“Nothing that bears repeating.” There was a touch of undue haste to Radiant Day’s declaration which made his desire that the words remain private obvious. He fell briefly silent, struggling to regain his composure, and was admirably successful in the effort. When next he spoke, he offered a smile that mostly concealed his inner anxiety. “Madam Nimbus, ‘tis a great pleasure to speak with you once more. If I might be so bold, I would ask the honor of providing you with a tour of our Order’s facility.” He offered her his hoof.
Nimbus answered him with smile that displayed her own nervous delight. “‘Twould be my pleasure to accompany you—neigh, to accompany thee , if I might be so bold.” She took the offered hoof, the anxiety rapidly fading from her.
“I welcome thy boldness,” Radiant answered, taking her hoof and slowly leading her across the compound. “Now, let us begin with...” The two young lovers parted company with us, entirely too entranced by one another’s company to e’en recall that there were other ponies present.
White Knight stared after the pair, then let out a faint snort. “That mare has transformed my brother into a clodpated simpleton.”
“Love makes fools of us all, White,” Daylight answered with a chuckle The magus turned to me offering a respectful nod. “Milady, how might I be of service?”
“There are matters I would discuss with Noble Quest and Pure Heart, if either of them can spare the time for me.” My gaze shifted down to young White. “I had thought that thy brother might convey me to them, but ‘twould seem he is otherwise occupied. That being the case, might I impose upon thee to take up his task and convey me to thy parents?”
The young squire promptly answered me, “‘Twould be my pleasure to do so, milady, were it not for the fact that they are in consultation with the Grandmaster at this hour. However, I can convey you to them as soon as their business with him is concluded.”
Ah, such was the hazard of seeking to speak with Grandmaster Crossguard’s closest subordinates. In light of the war, ‘twas hardly surprising that he would frequently have need of them. Still, patience was a virtue, and my business was far too important to be deterred by a mere delay. “I shall await their convenience, then.”
“Very well, milady.” White nodded to the compound’s central keep. “As my brother neglected to do so, allow me to formally welcome you as a guest of the Knightly Order of Sol Invictus. Whilst my mother and father are otherwise occupied, please allow me to offer refreshment and whatever form of entertainment you would care for to occupy your time. Mayhaps an inspection of our facilities and operation? I am sure a warrior of your renown could offer many valuable insights.”
“I have no doubt that she could.” Magus Daylight stepped forward, offering a polite nod. “However, I think ‘tis possible that I might save her a good deal of needless waiting, if I might have the honor of escorting her in thy place. Or mayhaps we could simply observe thee at thy task, now that thy brother and I are no longer sparring for thy benefit.”
“As you wish, Magus. I’ll attend my exercises, then.” The squire offered me a final nod, then turned her attention to one of the sparring ponyquins. Lifting her halberd in a telekinetic grasp, she charged in and struck at her target. The blows did not carry the easy grace with which her brother and the magus fought, but she did demonstrate a clear grasp of the fundamentals of combat. Refinement of her combat arts would only come with practice and experience in the field, and for now I judged her capable enough. She would acquit herself respectably against one of my own clanponies who was of an age with her.
“There might be value in an integrated training regimen,” I idly commented. “If we can spare the time for it, I am sure my own clan and the Order could refine our techniques with an exchange of knowledge.” Though I was well-versed in Unicornian combat tactics, there is only so much to be learned from books. Certainly the Order’s knights would benefit from practicing against pegasi, and ‘twould no doubt be of benefit to my own soldiers to have more varied sparring partners.
“There might indeed.” Daylight agreed. “I suspect, however, that you did not come here merely to discuss a training plan. Or e’en just to make arrangements for your kinsmare and my friend.” The two of us moved aside, so that White could practice in relative peace while we continued our conversation. “Though I am not so active in the city’s politics as some, ‘twould be difficult indeed to remain wholly ignorant of your current position. You have come seeking allies, neigh?”
“‘Twould be pointless to deny it,” I conceded. “‘Tis no secret that for all his skill as a politician, Grand Vizier Polaris is precisely that: a politician. Command of the armies of Equestria should be placed in the hooves of one with the training and experience to make proper use of them.” I considered my position briefly, and made an allowance I had not originally intended to offer. “It matters little to me whether that pony be myself or the grandmaster of this order, or e’en the two of us in concert. I would certainly not refuse the counsel of a pony with his experience, nor would expect that he would refuse my own advice and assistance. As the earth ponies say, ‘tis easier to carry a two-pony cart when both work in concert, rather than at odds with one another.”
“I have not heard that particular turn of phrase, but there is a certain wisdom to it.” Daylight briefly paused our discussion, turning to White Knight. “Thy forelegs stand too near one another, squire. I would suggest a wider stance if thou wouldst wield thy weapon properly.” White did as instructed, then returned to her practice, her blows now moving with a touch more efficiency. That matter attended to, Daylight turned to me once more. “My apologies for the interruption, milady. Though White is not my squire, Radiant is a dear friend, so I do try to mind her when he is absent.”
“I have no objection to it.” The instruction of the young was an important duty for any warrior, and I did not hold so high an opinion of myself that I would grow wroth at a momentary interruption. The magus’ closeness and seeming instinct to watch o’er the young mare did call a possibility to mind. “Is she thy intended?” As I understood matters, ‘twas quite common in Unicornia for friends to ponder a marriage if one possessed a relative of a suitable age and gender.
The question drew a slight snort from the magus. “Hardly. I do not look upon her that way, and I imagine she would be most unreceptive to any advances I might make.” He offered a dismissive wave of his hoof. “It makes little difference, regardless. E’en if either of us desired such a bond, she is of noble blood, whilst I am a bastard.”
Ah. I had forgotten that Unicornia put much stock in bloodlines. In Pegasopolis, ‘twould have been little issue if a pony were of uncertain or unacknowledged heritage. My own daughter was from singularly unimpressive stock, yet she herself was highly capable and a worthy heir to my legacy. It seemed foolish to me to deny a pony opportunities solely on the basis of not knowing the names of his parents.
“In any case,” Daylight announced abruptly, likely desiring a change of subject from his parentage, “‘tis your desire to seek an arrangement with the Order, I would hazard. Though I wish you luck in the endeavour, I must forewarn you not to give free rein to hope. The Order traditionally does not involve itself in Equestria’s politics.” Daylight paused, and a slight smirk crossed his face. “Mayhaps ‘twould be more accurate to say that the Order does not openly involve itself in blatant political maneuvering once the queen’s will is known. Her Majesty has named a general for her armies, and we will march at his command.”
“Even if that command is mistaken?” I demanded.
“‘Tis not our place to question the wisdom of Queen Celestia’s orders,” Daylight answered simply. “Ask the grandmaster if you will, but I fear he will provide the same answer as I have.”
There seemed little to be gained by further pursuing the matter, so I opted for a polite inquiry on a minor point of curiosity instead. “Thou speakest of the Order as one who is a member, yet I have also heard thee named as a magus. I take it the two are not in conflict?”
“The Order has many members from all stations in society, and a magus’ duties are similar to those of a knight in any case.” A brief shadow passed over Daylight’s eyes. “I have been in the Order’s care from the day of my birth. Serving in its ranks is the least I can do to repay all that they have done to aid me.”
Ah, most likely an abandoned foal, then. ‘Twould explain his loyalty to the Order of Sol Invictus quite simply. E’en in Pegasopolis, a young foal with no family or clan to support them was in dire straits. Thankfully, such was a relative rarity ‘mongst the clouds, though I could not shake the grim premonition that such would not be the case by war’s end.
As had been the case before, mention of his lacking birthright unsettled Daylight. In light of recent events, I felt some degree of empathy for one who had been deprived of their parents, but to call further attention to the matter would only heighten his pain. Better then to leave the matter in silence.
My eyes instead shifted to a cluster of several dozen ponies marching in a tightly packed formation across the training yard. ‘Twas an unusual three-tiered formation which I’d not seen the like of in any of my prior readings on unicorn tactics. First came five ranks of ponies bearing long pikes—I would later learn that each had a length of twenty feet. Specially-made slings around the pikeponies’ necks allowed them to drop the pikes into position at a moment’s notice, placing them in a formation where the tips of the last rank’s pikes projected in front of the front line. The effect looked quite formidable, for any enemy would need to evade five speartips to close with the frontlines.
Behind the pikes came a unit of knights bearing mixed melee weapons, presumably to protect the pikes’ vulnerable flanks; while it made a formidable barrier ‘gainst frontal assault, a spear of that length would be most unwieldy in close quarters. A barked command for the drill instructor revealed a second purpose of the unit, as the pikeponies carefully shifted to open a few narrow channels through their ranks, which the melee unit quickly poured through before the pikes closed ranks once more. The precision of the maneuver indicated that they’d been drilled in it many times.
The final tier of the formation consisted of unicorns either armed with ranged weaponry or no weapons at all, the latter of whom would presumably be relying entirely on their magic. Presumably, they would rely upon the front ranks to engage the enemy directly while they remained in the rear, free to strike from a distance whilst remaining relatively unharassed.
Daylight noted the direction of my gaze, and let forth an annoyed snort. “Why are our soldiers practicing in our techniques for engaging monsters? ‘Tis hardly a likely concern for the immediate future. I pray this error is not on account of Radiant giving orders while his mind was otherwise occupied.”
“It seems an effective formation.” I looked over the ponies maneuvering once more. “Most effective.”
“Aye, it serves us well enough ‘gainst most of the larger beasts the Order contends against.” Daylight pointed to each rank in turn as he discussed its role. “The pikes hold the monster at bay; all but the largest and most fearsome of dragons lack the reach to penetrate a twenty foot hedge of spearpoints. If the beast attempts to break through the pikes, it will become caught on the points and be easy prey for our melee forces. If ‘tis held at bay, our ranged units and mages can strike at it unimpeded.” He gave a dismissive wave towards the unit. “A fine formation for its purpose, but ‘twould be a little use ‘gainst pegasi that could simply fly past the whole of it.”
“Mayhaps so.” I could hardly deny the truth of that assessment. And yet, I also could not entirely bring myself to believe that the maneuvers the Order had trained in so carefully were wholly lacking in merit.
Further speculation on the matter would have to wait for another day, as Daylight politely cleared his throat to call my attention ere he pointed to a group of ponies exiting the central keep. I knew enough of the Order’s ranking system to recognize that they were its leaders, presumably finished with their discussion of the war for the moment.
My eye was naturally drawn to the stallion who could only be Grandmaster Crossguard. Unlike the courtly nobles, he wore plain but well cared-for armor, adorned with a simple tabard that announced his rank and affiliation to all. The stallion himself had a steely grey coat, and a mane that had long since gone grey. There was a toughness to him, like old leather—a mien I recognized well from my meetings with the Gerousia. From the way he carried himself ‘twas plain that he was yet a capable warrior despite his years, but time had clearly taken its toll. He moved with a degree of careful deliberation I recognized from Steel Striker, the gait of a warrior who bears the wounds of pains of many old battles.
‘Twas likely that age was the excuse Polaris had used to deny the Grandmaster command of Equestria’s armies. Campaigning in the field is a hard business e’en for the young. Though a pony of Crossguard’s age might still retain much of the strength of his youth, the years had robbed him of some measure of vigor. An all-day march would tax him sorely, and any of the diseases that inevitably strike when large concentrations of ponies are forced into close proximity could easily leave him bedridden for weeks. As I myself have learned, age is far crueler to the warrior than any other pony, for we feel the loss of our body’s strength all too keenly. Wings and hooves that could once strike down the mightiest of foes struggled to complete e’en the simple tasks of daily life. (2)
2: Considering the age at which she wrote her memoirs, Shadow was probably speaking from personal experience on this matter.
However, the Grandmaster yet had strength enough to grasp his blade. As several of his subordinates spoke with him, his gaze met my own. Likely, he’d been informed of my presence. I had not intended to speak with him directly, but ‘twould be the height of rudeness to refuse to acknowledge him when he stood before me. I rose to my hooves and approached, offering a salute once I stood before him; though I would roughly estimate our ranks as equal, I was within his compound, and thus owed him some degree of deference.
Crossguard returned my salute. “Milady Ephor, it is a pleasure.” A tired smile quirked at the corners of his mouth. “I would ask to what I owe the honor of this visit, but I think we both know the reason for it. I also have had a long and tiring day, and there is yet much more to be done before the end of it, so please excuse me if I seem brusque. While I have the utmost respect for your record of service to Equestria, the Order of Sol Invictus does not involve itself in political matters.”
He lifted a hoof to forestall any attempt I might make to dispute his declaration. “That said, if anypony were to ask me who I thought was best suited to command Equestria’s armies, your name would certainly be one I would mention.” He paused, and his smile widened slightly “After my own, of course. I might be old, but I still have a few years of service left in me.”
“But of course.” I was disappointed that I would not have the aid I had hoped for, but after Daylight’s forewarning ‘twas hardly a surprise. His latter remark was at least an offer of what friendship could be had between us given our relative positions. “It has occurred to me that there would be benefit in having some of your soldiers train alongside mine. It would allow your own soldiers to gain experience ‘gainst warriors trained in the fighting arts of Pegasopolis, and my own soldiers would learn to fight alongside unicorns. We could mayhaps e’en devise some new methods of integrating our forces on the battlefield. Pegasus and unicorn together are stronger than either apart.”
“Indeed so,” the Grandmaster agreed. “I think we could learn much from one another if our soldiers trained together. As for new tactics, I look forward to discussing the possibilities when circumstances better allow it. However, for now duty calls, and I must bid you good day.”
Though ‘twould wrong to say that my meeting had proved fruitless, given the arrangement made, it had not yielded the hoped-for results.
My efforts at securing allies had proved less than satisfactory, but I could ill afford to abandon them entirely. The alternative was to concede the matter of leadership, and I judged that an unacceptable outcome. Equestria could ill afford to squander its strength to feed the ego of a politician who was more interested in personal honor and glory than the good of the nation. However, for all my need of a victory, I could not see a clear path to gain it. ‘Twas unfitting that I had come so far and sacrificed so much in the name of loyalty to Commander Celestia, only to find myself contending ‘gainst her other servants to save them from their own folly.
As I would often do when facing a particularly vexing issue, I occupied myself on the training grounds with Gale. In the past there had been others I might also have spoken with, but they were no longer present. I could hardly go to Rightly and unburden my problems ‘pon him when we were at war with one another. Many of the clan’s respected elders were also no longer among us; ‘twould be too simple to say that all the old generation sided with Cyclone’s treason, but his influence was naturally strongest among them, and weaker amongst the younger members of the clan. I suppose ‘twas a blessing, in a particularly twisted way, for it reduced the number of fighting-age ponies he could call to his cause. There were times, however, when I sorely missed the wisdom and experience of my elders. At the moment, I needed guidance more than blades.
Thankfully, my daughter was capable of providing both services. Wisdom and experience are valuable assets, but so are intellect and reason. If the elderly veterans of the clan were truly so wise, they would not have betrayed Commander Celestia and their own kin.
Gale was an apt enough sparring partner. Though she lacked my raw skill or physical prowess, she was inventive enough that I could ill afford to lower my guard ‘gainst her. More than once she has managed to take me unawares with an exotic weapon or strange new fighting style. If nothing else, her fondness for the unusual and unexpected prevented me from growing too complacent in my own fighting style.
This session proved to be no exception, as Gale had brought two new weapons to the fray. These were already unusual in that each required a hoof covering, much like hammer-hooves, but unlike those weapons they interfered with a pony’s ability to use their hooves for their intended purpose, thus requiring her to either fight in the air or while standing on her hind hooves and using her wings for balance. On the left hoof she bore a single straight blade with a reinforced tip intended for punching through armor, while her right carried a sickle-shaped blade which I had found difficult to counter with traditional blocks.
Given the matters weighing on my mind and the need to buy a few more seconds to devise a means of defeating these new weapons, I opted to engage her in conversation. “Havest thou any suggestions, regarding my current troubles?”
Gale answered my request with a smile. “Prepare thyself for a rare defeat, Mother. I havest thou beaten this time.” I deflected a thrust from her straight blade, only to narrowly avoid a downward chop from the sickle. If Gale’s claims of the weapon’s strength were accurate, the point would easily penetrate through a Pegasopolan helmet on a downward swing. Not terribly far, but even putting a mere inch of steel into a pony’s brain was quite sufficient for most purposes.
“Do not declare thy victory before ‘tis gained.” I drove her back with several blows followed by a hard advance, hoping to unbalance her given the awkward stance her weapons forced ‘pon her. Unfortunately, Gale proved capable of maintaining a good balance on only two legs. “But that is not the matter I wished to discuss.”
“Ah, yes, politics.” A thrust from Gale’s blade forced me to halt my attack, buying her a moment to recover and shift her stance to one that seemed more to her liking. “If thou wouldst have my advice, Mother, I would suggest having words with Sunbeam Sparkle. There is a saying among the ponies of Canterlot: those who beg for aid do not have the luxury of choice.”
I scowled at the mere mention of the mare. “I find your advice lacking, then.”
Gale’s eyes briefly turned to the heavens, no doubt imploring them for aid in enduring the trials any child faces when old and close-minded parents fail to grasp their youthful brilliance. Sadly, it did not create an opening that might allow me to turn the tide. “Regardless of thy personal feelings for the mare, Mother, I cannot see another pony nearly so well-positioned to render thee aid, nor half so willing—neigh, eager to make common cause with thee. I do not grasp the logic in seeking tepid statements of possible future support from the lesser figures of Canterlot when one of Unicornia’s most powerful and influential leaders would readily support thee. Though I am not fond of her, ‘twould be far from the first time I have worked alongside others I do not care for.”
I was e’en more taken aback by my daughter’s suggestion, until a particularly troubling thought occurred. “Thou didst visit with young Midnight earlier, didst thou not? Did her mother have words with thee, then?”
“She did,” Gale confessed. “I found her arguments convincing.”
That was not the answer I had wished to hear. I spotted an opening and attempted to close with Gale; both her weapons seemed designed to be most effective when striking with the point, and were far too long to be used in a grapple. However, the thought of Sunbeam had incited enough wrath within me to not realize the opening was a feint until I had already committed to the attack. The thrusting blade struck ‘gainst my breastplate and a moment later my helmet echoed as the tip of sickle-blade struck it.
Gale withdrew, wearing a triumphant smile as she removed her blades. “‘Twould seem the day is mine after all, Mother. Allow me to savor this victory, for I am sure that our next several spars will be painful reminders that thou art the better fighter ‘tween the two of us.”
“Do not doubt it,” I growled as I removed my helmet to rub at my sorely abused head. E’en though my helmet had cushioned the blow, my ears would likely ring from the force of it for some minutes yet.
“Ah, but one should not allow the troubles of the future to make present triumphs any less sweet.” Gale paused, meeting my eyes as her gay tone faded. “Mother, wilt thou think ‘pon what I have suggested. I know ‘tis distasteful, but...”
“There is nothing to think on.” My tone was mayhaps harsher than the request merited, but defeat at my daughter’s hooves and the headache accompanying said defeat had done little to improve a mood that had been less than wholly amicable of late. Seeking allies in Unicornia was proving a trying and fruitless endeavour, and failure rarely improves one’s mood. “I have a meeting with Captain Greenwall of the earth ponies shortly. Once thou art finished with being pleased o’er thy victory, pray use thy sources to find other allies I might seek.”
Gale answered me with a long-suffering sigh. “By your will, Mother. However, I pray you do not dismiss my advice out of hoof when next I give it.”
I met with Captain Greenwall at the palace gardens. The militia captain was, to all appearances, the nearest the loyal earth ponies in Canterlot had to a leader. The proper earth pony government had remained in Manehatten for fear that leaving would be taken as a sign of weakness. There was truth in that, but ‘twould still have been prudent to make some preparation for the possibility that the city would fall. By all reports there was fighting in the streets, and the rebels would likely attempt to claim the city properly. The loyal earth ponies needed a proper representative in Canterlot, if only to ensure that should Manehatten fall there would still be some semblance of loyal earth pony government.
For the moment, however, there was only an ordinary militia captain. Many of the local merchant, farming, and crafting interests and the like also had representatives in the city, but they had no official authority, and regardless were ill-suited to leading in a time of war. Although the earth pony government did not have a proper standing military structure beyond the local militia level, the captains of those militias which had reported to Canterlot thus far seemed inclined to defer to captain of Canterlot’s militia, if only because he played host to them. Thus, my meeting with Captain Greenwall.
The gardens might seem an unusual place for such a discussion, but earth ponies do have a natural affinity to growing things. ‘Twas not so great a surprise the captain might prefer such a location, especially given that the royal gardens were a fine sight. Though I am no expert on matters of botany, I have it on good authority that they are most impressive. For my part, all I saw was a great deal of plant life, much of it admittedly colorful and artfully arranged, but plants nonetheless. ‘Twas fine enough for what it was, but I felt no need to expound ‘pon the grandeur of it.
Greenwall was already awaiting me ‘pon my arrival. I immediately felt a degree of respect for him on account of his plain but functional chainmail adorned only with a simple tabard bearing a blazing sun to mark his allegiance to the Commander. His green mane was cut short, no doubt so ‘twould not become a burden in his daily rigors, and his coat was as brown as the soil from which crops spring. Though he was not the most imposing specimen of the earth pony breed, he was still of respectable size and carried the muscles of a pony who earned his living through labor. He carried no weapons, though if I were to judge by the thick muscles on his legs I would hazard he favored hammer-hooves. (3)
3: Hammer-hooves were very popular weapons among earth ponies, as they allowed them to bring their full strength to bear without requiring much more training than very basic hoof-to-hoof combat. Considering the fact that militiaponies had to earn their living as farmers, miners, and craftsmen, and time spent serving in the militia cut into that, having a weapon which ponies could learn very quickly was of vital importance.
“Ma’am.” Greenwall offered a respectful nod at my approach. “Pleasure to meet you. Been hearin’ a fair bit about you lately.” He offered a hoofshake, which I accepted after a moment’s hesitation. ‘Twas somewhat out of place for a militia captain to speak as an equal to an ephor, but I could hardly make an issue of protocol when I needed his aid. The earth ponies have ne’er been known for a keen interest in formality beyond the most basic of courtesies.
“Captain, thanks to thee for meeting with me.” While I would extend him more respect that I would normally offer a captain of militia, there were limits.
“No problem at all, ma’am.” He paused, taking a quick survey of the gardens to ensure that we had privacy enough to speak openly. “I’ll be honest with you. I met with Grand Vizier Polaris, and I thought he was an ass. I don’t reckon I know too much about how to run an army—I’m just a gardener—but I bet I could do a better job than him. At least I got sense enough to know I’m in over mah head right now. The biggest thing the Canterlot Militia’s ever needed to do is smack Rusty Plow on the back of the head whenever he’s had a few too many drinks and his temper’s up. Fightin’ a war? I ain’t the pony for that. Still, I don’t reckon Polaris has ever even seen a bar brawl, let alone run an army.”
I could not deny the assessment. “I take it, then, that I have thy support in the matter?”
“For what it’s worth.” Greenwall offered a resigned shrug. “It ain’t like anypony asked my opinion before they put Polaris in charge in the first place. Can’t guarantee everypony else’ll feel the same way, but I can talk to some ponies, let ‘em know what I think.”
“That is all I can ask for.” ‘Twas the firmest statement of support I’d received thus far, and a pleasant surprise indeed. “I am surprised, however, that there was no bargaining over the matter.”
Greenwall met my eyes, and a hint of a smile pulled at his lips. “I might work in the royal gardens now, but I spent a while running a shop before that. One thing I learned, you gotta know your customers. Some ponies, you need to argue over every little detail with, and some you can spend less than a minute to get everything sorted out. And some ponies don’t care for bargainin’ at all. You make ‘em fight for it, and it’ll be long and painful. But if’n you just act friendly and decent, and give ‘em a little somethin’ for free, they’ll pay you back more’n you’d ever bargain outta them.” He paused, and let out a chuckle. “Or hay, maybe Polaris is such an ass I’d pay you just to be rid of him.”
Well, ‘twould seem the supposedly simple gardner was at least a keener mind than he claimed. However, given his own admission and my knowledge of the earth pony militias, I could safely assume that their military readiness was less than ideal. “There is one other matter I would discuss. My own clanponies and the Order of Sol Invictus have been training alongside one another, so that we might learn each other’s methods. I see no reason to think that training alongside earth ponies would do anything other than improve our forces.”
Greenwall considered my proposal, and offered a slow nod. “Makes sense. I reckon we’ll end up doing a lot more learnin’ than teachin’, but I figure that’s what you had in mind anyway. You were just too polite to say it. Still, we might have a couple little tricks ya’ll haven’t thought of yet.”
I answered that with a faint smile. “I look forward to learning them, then.”
The earth pony let out a chuckle. “Startin’ to sound like you’re thinking of restarting the EUP.” (4)
4: The EUP (Earth Unicorn Pegasus) was a brief attempt at establishing a unified Equestrian military in the aftermath of Princess Luna’s banishment. The EUP fell apart within a few years on account of the differences between the three pony breeds. As I’m sure most readers have noticed by now, the pegasi were very proud of their warrior heritage, and chafed at the idea of being under the command of less professional earth ponies and unicorns. Admittedly, the chain of command was horribly muddled, with things like admirals commanding a single squad.
For their part, the earth ponies disliked the shift from the casual militia system to a more professionalized force that required military discipline, and the unicorn nobles frequently complained that earth ponies and pegasi failed to show them ‘proper deference.’ While the EUP failed, it did at least serve as a useful lesson in the problems of creating a unified Equestrian military, and a few formations like the Wonderbolts did survive the experiment.
“Mayhaps so,” I conceded. “We can ill afford further division ‘mongst our ranks.”
“Reckon you’re right on that one.” Greenwall offered a grim smile “S’like the old saying goes: if we don’t stick together, the rebels will just stick us all one at a time.”
“Indeed they will.” ‘Twould likely be one of the greatest advantages for the rebels in the war: the clans would work together as a single unified whole. “However, I have confidence we shall win through.” In all, the meeting had been quite productive. I had finally secured a full and proper ally. Not the best one in terms of politics, but as my daughter had said, I could hardly afford to refuse anypony.
I was well satisfied with the day’s events as I sought my bed that evening. Though I still did not have the political coalition required to unseat Polaris, I had at least established a base of support within the unicorn and earth pony forces. ‘Twas a basis ‘pon which to move forward, if nothing else.
As the clan’s new hold had not yet been made ready, I resided in one of the many guest rooms within the Commander’s Royal Palace. Thankfully, Commander Celestia had provided me with rooms suited to my tastes, and I was spared the trouble of using golden, gem-encrusted manebrushes, bedsheets, and privies. I will never grasp why the ponies of Canterlot were so fond of excessive opulence. As it was, my quarters were tastefully decorated and functional. I had half a mind to ask the Commander’s leave to simply transfer the contents to my new clanhold, once ‘twas in readiness.
I was relaxing in front of the fireplace, pondering over the possibilities of the new integrated training scheme I had somehow formed, when flames flared up. Having recalled when this had happened previously I immediately made ready, though this time I did not take aggressive action.
As I’d suspected was the case, moments later Sunbeam Sparkle emerged from my fireplace, seemingly unharmed by the flames. I could not help but wonder if mayhaps ‘twould be wiser not to maintain a large fire in my rooms. As I understood it, magi could only transport themselves when given a proper medium to work with, and e’en then only the greatest among them could manage the feat. Instant transportation without a conveying medium was a power only the Commander knew.
“Magus.” I did not bother to disguise my displeasure at seeing her. “Most ponies have the decency to use a door, and request permission ere they enter another’s private quarters.”
The rebuke seemed to have no effect upon the former archmagus, and as she approached I noted a furious scowl upon her face. I briefly wondered if I had badly misjudged her intent by assuming she came in peace, and my eyes warily shifted to her horn, watching for the first sign of hostile magic. ‘Twas perhaps that very wariness that allowed her to land a blow—when facing a magus, one is naturally inclined to expect a magical strike, not a physical one. The slap caught me unawares, but the magus did not have the strength to make the blow especially telling.
E’en though no injury had been caused, I was understandably displeased by being struck. Before I could decide ‘pon the proper means of expressing that, Sunbeam Sparkle spoke her own mind, her voice far rougher than her usual refined tones. “Celestia’s teats, mare, can ye not see what is plain in front of yer face!” She briefly paused, cleared her throat, and her voice returned to its usual educated tone. “Your stubborn refusal to make common cause with me has caused a calamity.”
“A calamity?” I rubbed my struck cheek, scowling at the mare. For the moment, curiosity o’erruled thoughts of vengeance. “Do explain.”
“Manehatten has fallen to the rebels,” she snapped. “‘Twill make it all but impossible to unseat Polaris. Now that the fighting has properly begun, none will want to take the risk of removing the current commander of our armies. Had you simply seen reason, we might have acted in concert ere this occurred. You could have restored me to favor with Celestia in the span of minutes, and from there I could have gathered my own allies to undermine Polaris’ base of power. E’en if we could not have unseated him, with our combined influence we could have forced concessions from him. Now, he rules virtually uncontested, and ‘tis too late to move ‘gainst him.”
I had an angry retort on my lips when an unpleasant thought struck me. Her assessment was not entirely mistaken. My own efforts had met with some success, but they had been slow to bear fruit. And had not Copper and Gale both advised me to make peace with Sunbeam? Was it possible that I’d mistaken stubborn pride for principle? And in so doing, had I doomed Equestria to fall to the rebels?
‘Twas a most troubling thought.
Rightly was long in answering my challenge. Though I was not especially eager to face him in battle, and the delay served mine own purposes well enough, a part of me wished for an immediate answer, that I might be spared the uncertainty that came from waiting.
‘Twas easy enough to guess at why he was so long in responding. In truth, for all that I knew mine own duty I was unsure what would happen if I attempted to meet him in battle. Would I be able to strike without hesitation when my blades would cut into the flesh of a stallion I had once thought to name as my husband? And if I found that I could bury my feelings beneath the armor of duty for the duration of the duel, could I then endure the guilt that would come with striking him down? ‘Tis far easier to speak of one’s duties requiring shedding the blood of former friends, lovers, or family when ‘tis a distant reality than it is to actually do the deed.
Several of the hetairoi approached Rightly, and I noted both Lance and Dusk among their numbers. As they spoke, I struck upon a means by which Rightly might do his duty whilst avoiding battle with me. Though there was a greater tactical and strategic benefit in my facing him directly, in my heart I hoped that he had uncovered the same possibility that I had.
As fate or fortune would have it, he had uncovered that truth. He flew towards me, the captain of his hetairoi at his side. “I have heard your challenge, Shadow Kicker of the Clan Kicker.” I was pleased to note that despite Cyclone’s attempt to declare me an outcast from my clan, Rightly still addressed me by my proper name. “I accept your challenge, and name the captain of my hetairoi , Lance Charger, as my champion for this battle. I trust there are no objections?”
Though ‘twas customary for a warrior of Pegasopolis to fight their own battles, there were rare exceptions made for those of high rank in the case of battlefield duels. Naming a champion allowed a Commander to avoid the loss of honor that would come from refusing a duel without requiring that he turn his attention from the broader battlefield to settle a matter of personal honor. In short, the custom existed to prevent precisely what I had intended to do. I was uncertain how I should receive the news that I would face a champion. Though I was glad that I would not be forced to shed Rightly’s blood in battle, I had hoped to detain him directly with the duel.
Still, the situation could yet be turned to my advantage. Rightly would still be expected to leave a portion of his forces to witness the battle. Commander Celestia had also charged me with ensuring Lance’s survival, and I could think of few better ways to do so than to be her opponent in the coming battle. While some measures would have to be taken to ensure that she survived the duel itself, such would be a simple enough matter.
I flew forward and met Rightly’s eyes. “I accept, on the condition that our battle be unarmed and carried only to submission. I have no quarrel with Lance Charger, and would find no honor in her taking her life.” (1)
1: Despite the fact that Shadow declared a desire for juris ungula, field duels of this sort were far more informal than proper duels. There were no formal terms to field duels beyond a general prohibition against outside interference or dishonorable tactics. However, combatants would frequently agree to field rules which were usually intended to either prevent loss of life (as is the case here) or to make the duel more sporting. One of the more common arrangements during the Lunar Rebellion was that a unicorn would refrain from magic beyond simple levitation in exchange for the pegasus fighting the battle on the ground.
It’s also worth noting that, Pegasopolan pride being what it was, battles that only ended when one of the parties submitted could still end with death.
Rightly offered no objection to the rule, though I had not judged it likely that he would. Though honor and loyalty had made us enemies, neither of us would seek the other’s lifeblood if we could avoid doing so whilst satisfying honor. “The victor shall make a prisoner of the defeated, then.” Rightly proposed. “I presume we will also include a promise of compliance to facilitate the capture?”
“Naturally.” I could hardly be expected to make a prisoner of Lance if her fellow hetairoi descended upon me to free her the instant I was victorious in the duel. Or the same with my clan, if I were beaten. Though I prayed such would not be the case, for if I were lost, many of my clan would likely join Cyclone’s renegades.
I turned my eyes to Lance herself, wondering if I might uncover what it was about her that Commander Celestia found so compelling. She had her mother’s lean, honed strength, though her golden coat bespoke her Doo heritage on her sire’s side. Her white mane was cut in a style that mirrored her mother and lent her the same air of fierce determination. However, where Bright always openly wore her eagerness to see battle joined, Lance carried herself with a calm restraint that bespoke her capacity for unleashing calculated violence should the need arise.
Though she seemed an exemplar of a pegasus warrior, I saw nothing in her that would show the sort of greatness of which Celestia spoke. All I had e’er heard of her was that she was all but certain to have a seat in the Ephorate once her mother was of an age to retire. Still, ‘twas plain that Celestia had insights into this and many other matters which I did not share. Most likely, no mortal pony could see the world with the totality that Celestia could manage.
Lance flew to her brother’s side and removed her own weapons to pass them into his care. I sought out Sergeant Stalwart to do the same. I had to call his name thrice ere he answered me, for his eyes were much occupied by one of the mares in the hetairoi . Though I could not place her face by memory alone, my sergeant's preoccupation made guessing her identity a simple task: only his own wife could cause him to so utterly forget himself.
I admit, I was slightly reluctant to part with my wing blades. Sunbeam Sparkle had done fine work on them, and her magic likely made them a superior weapon to my opponent’s lance. However, Sunbeam’s workings had only made the blades all the deadlier, and I could not risk slaying the mare I fought. And while I did not know the full extent of the Commander’s plans for Lance Charger, I suspected that badly maiming her would be detrimental as well. Not to mention that any severe injury carries the risk of death by trauma, infection or other complications.
So we would face one another in juris ungula in the purest sense of the term. No weapons, save our own hooves and strength. Combat would continue until one of us either yielded or was plainly incapable of continuing the contest. ‘Twas only a question of how my strength would compare to the other mare’s. I exceeded her in size, but that came as little surprise, and I would likely have the advantage in reach and raw strength as well. Experience naturally favored the older mare. However, Lance would have the speed and endurance of a mare in her prime, and though I was far from old and slow, I had reached an age where time had just begun to take its toll on my body. Against most opponents, it would be of little consequence; I would still seem as young and vital as I had been at Lance’s age. But against a foe who could truly test my limits, I would be just a hair’s breadth slower and quicker to tire than I had once been, and such differences could decide the battle.
I flew to the center of the dueling circle our observers had formed and met Lance Charger’s eyes. “I have heard from your mother that you defeated Archmagus Copper Spark in battle.” That thought brought to mind the curious thing I had but recently witnessed in my brief clash with the hetairoi . Sunbeam Sparkle had unleashed a fire that should have reduced Lance to a charred ruin on the ground, yet, aside from a few scorch marks on her armor, she emerged unscathed. I was curious for an explanation of it, but if she had shown similar resistance to Copper’s magic ‘twould explain much.
“I did indeed meet him in battle,” Lance confirmed. “He was a valiant opponent and conducted himself with honor. I was glad to learn that his wounds would not prove mortal, despite the chirurgeons’ initial assessment. Though you should thank my sister for the preservation of his life, for I did little to ensure it beyond placing him in her care.”
“Whate’er the case may be, I am glad that he yet lives.” I began to circle my opponent, looking for some weakness I might exploit. “Mayhaps once I have made a prisoner of you, an exchange can be made for his return.” Though in truth I did not think Celestia likely to part with Lance willingly, given her interest in the mare.
“That is possible.” Lance’s own eyes travelled o’er me just as freely, seeking the same vulnerabilities. I sought to betray a few false openings, in the hopes that she might seek them out and render herself vulnerable in the process. “I judge it more likely that you will shortly occupy a cell adjacent to his, though I suspect Commander Rightly would prefer that you were kept more distant from him.” She was briefly silent, and then remarked, “He would yet welcome your return to his side. Your loyalty to Celestia does you credit, but surely you must see the need for liberating our fellow ponies?”
“I think what you would term a liberation would be more akin to a pegasus conquest in the eyes of the earth ponies and unicorns.” I noted that Rightly was yet watching the exchange alongside his hetairoi , and was pleased. Mayhaps he would sacrifice the advantage gained in allowing Lance to take his place by remaining to see the clash. That being the case, I saw no reason to move quickly into battle. “Swift Blade has already been granted dominion o’er the earth ponies. Has your commander decided who he will allow to rule the unicorns?”
“Swift Blade merely advises the earth ponies on coordinating our war effort,” Lance countered. “He is no more a ruler than the gryphon or zebra ambassadors are rulers of Equestria.”
“But he is the pegasus ambassador to a government installed and sustained by pegasus armies. Though he may only advise by the letter of the law, ‘tis plain to see that his suggestions will carry far more weight than they should.” My eyes narrowed. “And the same shall be the case for the unicorns, if you conquer them. ‘Tis a curious thing to see a rebellion that speaks of liberation whilst preparing a yoke for the other pony breeds. I have heard it said you are a mare of honor and integrity. If that be true, then I bid you stand with us.”
To my surprise, Lance was silent for a time in response to my offer. When at last she spoke, ‘twas with careful consideration. “I do not think Celestia the monster some would claim. However, ‘tis plain to see that she is no longer competent to lead Equestria, whate’er her plans and desires for Equestria’s future. If she will not stand down voluntarily, then she must be removed by force of arms. And if you would say that our rebellion will chain earth pony and unicorn to a pegasus yoke, then I would ask whether your own cause will not chain all three breeds to an alicorn one. E’en benevolent slavery is still slavery.”
“Serving one’s Commander is not slavery,” I countered. “And I would prefer a single alicorn ruling eternally to constant discord ‘tween the three pony tribes. Though I have mine own objections to her leadership, I still think it better than creating a world where—”
Dusk Charger surprised me by cutting in, addressing Rightly. “Commander, she is delaying the duel in order to buy time for her forces to ravage our supply train unmolested.” As if to emphasize his point, several of the supply wagons almost directly below us exploded. Likely more of Sunbeam’s work, now that she was once more on the ground. Strange as it seems to say it, I was glad to see her applying her craft to our enemies. Fighting alongside the mare seemed to have allowed her the chance to gain some small measure of my respect.
Rightly’s eyes briefly widened as he realized my intentions, and a faint scowl crossed his lips. “Ah. Well played, Shadow.” He turned to his hetairoi . “Dusk, keep an honor guard to watch your sister’s duel. Your brothers will be a part of it; if any should bear witness to her battle, it is her kin. All others with me, while there is still something left to be saved.”
Rightly and the bulk of his hetairoi took wing, making for the remnants of their supply train. I could only hope that Gale and the others were equal to the task of battling his reduced force. At the least, I had removed some of his better warriors by denying him Bright Charger’s children. Though Rightly was an excellent general and leader of ponies, his personal combat skills were not the things of legend. That is not to say he was a weakling like Swift Blade, for he was a formidable and respected warrior—merely that he was not an avid duelist like Bright, or an experienced solo and small unit combatant like myself. His greatest strength lay in leading an army, not smiting foes with his own four hooves.
Lance, however, was another matter entirely. As the eldest and favored child of the greatest duelist in Pegasopolis, I judged it likely that she had learned much from her mother. That she had o’ercome Copper was testament enough to her skills. However, Lance had ne’er faced me in battle, and I knew much of how Bright Charger fought. ‘Twas difficult to fight public duels without revealing something of how one would go about fighting a duel.
I suppose I would learn the truth of it soon enough. “Shall we begin, Lance Charger?”
“I believe we shall, Shadow.” Lance readied herself, hovering in the air across from me, her eyes hardening as she began seeking some weakness she might exploit...
I adopted the same position and maneuver, though mine own stance betrayed a small false opening on my left flank that I hoped would draw her in. After several seconds, she took the bait, darting in for a quick strike. Her superior speed and maneuverability caught me unawares, and one of her hooves thudded into my side as the false opening became a true one. However, I was still able to answer her with a strike across her cheek as she passed.
After that exchange, I was wary of baiting her again. Not only did she possess speed enough to exploit the small opening I had only intended to use as bait, but her blow had landed more heavily than I would have expected. Not so much as to cause serious injury, but I suspected that by tomorrow ‘twould have produced a fine bruise.
From there, the match fell to a more cautious exchange of blows as we both maneuvered for position and tested one another’s capabilities. She sought to find the limits of my reach, while I tried to uncover how quickly she could maneuver in the air. A pity I could not test the limits of her strength after the power of her first blow had caught me unawares, but finding that would require closing with her once more. I was understandably wary of doing that before I had taken her full measure.
Lance seemed unlikely to allow me the chance to do so unharassed. She began a series of darting attacks which let her gauge my reaction time, searching for her opening. She was yet cautious, and each strike was carefully measured to avoid exposing herself to my counters. With some reluctance, I realized that I would have to bait her once more if I had any hope of turning the battle in my favor. Thankfully, I was at least forewarned of the danger this time.
Rather than create an opening she might exploit, I deliberately pulled my blows and slowed my reactions by a small degree. Lance’s darting strikes grew every bolder as she began to formulate her plan of attack. I could only hope that when she struck, what advantage my trickery had granted would allow me to turn it against her.
After a few more probes, Lance struck, trying to take me on my left side. ‘Twas an error I quickly made her pay for, catching her full on the muzzle with a strike that displayed the full extent of my reach and speed. I will not deny a certain sense of satisfaction as I felt cartilage give way under my hoof, and blood spurted down her muzzle.
However, for all the strength of my blow, it did not deter or even greatly slow Lance’s approach. A moment after I struck, she closed the distance and planted her forehooves into my barrel. From there she landed a series of quick jabs into my ribs, while I hastily reoriented myself from her surprising follow-through. Where before her speed had caught me by surprise, now ‘twas her endurance that turned the exchange in her favor. My initial blow ought to have at least stunned her for a moment, yet she took the blow as if it were naught but a stiff breeze.
Now I had a faster mare inside my reach, punishing me for every moment I allowed her to remain there. Given her superior speed and maneuverability, ‘twould be no easy task to force her back once more. And e’en if I could, she had shown far too much skill at closing within my reach. The current flow of the battle was against me, and unless I could find some way to turn the situation in my favor, she would only gain a further advantage as time progressed.
I turned my eyes from Lance for a brief moment, e’en as I felt one of my ribs give way with a wet snap. That she could strike such heavy blows through my armor was a testament to her strength. If mine own flesh and blood could not o’ercome hers, I would need some outside factor to turn the match in my favor. The terms of the duel prevented most of my preferred tactics; a hidden weapon or seeking to evade and reengage under more favorable terms would put me in violation of the terms.
That left the option of using my surroundings to my advantage, but a battle in sky has little in the way of intervening terrain or obstacles. There was nothing in the way of clouds to be found, merely open sky within the impromptu dueling circle. Fortunately, a battle between pegasi is not limited to two dimensions, and there were no dueling terms requiring that we remain airborne.
I briefly attempted to evade Lance, and when she moved to close the gap, once more quickly reversed directions, rushing to meet her and locking my limbs around her. Though she was stronger than one would expect for her size and build, I was still the larger and heavier of the two of us. I stilled my wings, and the addition of my weight to her own threw the younger mare off balance. I tugged and shifted about in the grapple, and for good measure introduced the armored crest of my helmet to her wounded muzzle, denying her any chance to compensate for my added weight as we plummeted to the earth.
My superior size and Lance’s own disorientation allowed me to hold the advantage in our downward grapple. As we neared the earth, I employed mine own wings to angle our descent and arrest our momentum by some small measure. ‘Twould not do for the both of us to strike the ground with such speed that we perished.
Fortunately for Lance, I had aimed our impact for the riverbank. The thick mud there would help cushion our landing, and more importantly, ‘twould deny her the advantage of speed. Nopony can move quickly when belly-deep in mud. ‘Twas also likely she was not as experienced in ground combat as I was, given my time as a mage hunter whilst she had only served in Pegasopolis.
The riverbank was distant enough from the main battle that we could continue our duel unharassed. The only ponies I noted in the immediate area were those accompanying a cluster of burning supply wagons. The ponies there seemed far too occupied trying to use the waters to extinguish their burning cargo to intervene in the honor duel, especially when my clan and the hetairoi force would be arriving to secure the area quickly enough.
A moment ere we struck the ground I shifted my position so that one of my hooves was positioned over Lance’s diaphragm. When we landed, my body’s descending weight drove my hoof forward into her flesh, driving the air from Lance’s lungs with a loud gasp. Though that was the primary focus of my attack, the rest of my weight drove her deep into the mud, securing my advantage.
Whilst my opponent struggled to catch her wind once more, I quickly shifted my position to pin her more effectively, immersing most of her body in the thick river mud. E’en if she escaped the grapple, she would be hard-pressed to return to the skies whilst her feathers were laden with the riverbank’s contents. This battle would be decided on the ground.
Once my position atop her was secured, I wasted no time raining blows down upon Lance. She raised her forelegs to protect her face, but that simply lessened the impact of my strikes, while also leaving her chest vulnerable. She attempted a few counters of her own, but she was still disoriented from our rough landing, and her position left her at a considerable disadvantage. She simply did not have a good angle to strike from, robbing her counterblows of the strength they might otherwise have carried.
As the pegasi settled about us, recreating the dueling ring once more, I continued to hammer at Lance’s defenses. For all the strength of my current position, I will confess that I felt a great deal of concern at my lack of success. Though the advantage was clearly mine, I had not yet succeeded in using my advantageous position to inflict a telling blow on my opponent. If I could not find some way to wound or weaken her, ‘twas only a matter of time before Lance found some way to escape my hold.
For her part, Lance seemed content for the moment to simply protect her vitals and endure my assault. I could guess her plan well enough: mine own offensive momentum required a significant amount of energy to sustain, while simply defending herself was a lesser effort. So long as she could keep me from landing a telling blow, ‘twould be simple enough to simply remain on defense and hope that I would exhaust myself while achieving no significant gains.
Clearly I could not continue to fruitlessly pound at her, or I would be playing right into her hooves. Fortunately, there were some areas Lance had not thought to protect, mayhaps because her own sense of honor blinded her to the possibility that another pony might strike there. Thus, she was caught completely by surprise when one of my rear hooves stomped her underneath the tail.
Lance let out a cry of agony, and her forelegs dropped from her face as pain and instinct made her briefly forget to mind her defenses. I was quick to take advantage of the opening, landing a quick three-strike combination that set her head to reeling, then finishing by burying her muzzle in the mud. Even the greatest warrior cannot battle if their lungs are denied breath.
To my surprise, Lance did not immediately struggle against my hold. Most ponies’ first instinct upon being denied breath is to immediately seek to regain it—e’en a trained warrior will need a brief span to rein in their instincts and assert rationality. Instead, all I felt from the mare beneath me was a growing tremble. At first I thought it simply her repressing the instinct to uselessly flail and scream, but rather than stilling after a few moments, the trembling only increased.
My answer came a few moments later, when I was knocked off of her. I did not see the blow before it struck; ‘twould seem that my focus on keeping her muzzle buried had blinded me to what her hind legs might do, though I had expected my blow beneath her tail to render them less than fully functional. Though given her previous shows of strength and endurance, I suppose I should not have been surprised that she could e’en endure a strike at the groin.
We both returned to our hooves, though I was pleased to note Lance’s hindquarters did not move as swiftly and fluidly as they had earlier in the battle. ‘Twould seem that despite her escape, she had not entirely resisted the effects of my hidden strike. Lance’s eyes were narrowed in offended fury, and her voice came as a pained growl. “That was not an honorable blow.”
“I have not violated the terms of our duel,” I countered. “‘Twould be unkind to strike you so in a friendly spar in the training yard, but we are on the battlefield, young hetairoi . I will not refrain from striking at an opening simply because ‘twould be painful and unpleasant for an opponent whom I might well be attempting to kill.” I am sure that, were she present, Sunbeam would feel compelled to comment on the absurdity of a code of honor that allowed one to kill one’s enemies, but not cause them pain or discomfort.
Lance scowled at me, and she stretched each of her hind legs in turn. ‘’Twas still a dishonorable blow, even if ‘twas a legal one. I will not leave myself open to such again, and I shall deliver you to my commander with mine own honor intact.”
“Whether you shall be the victor remains to be seen.” We closed once more, Lance now moving at a slower pace I much preferred due to both the mud and the lingering pain within her hindquarters. While I was equally slowed by the mud, my greater height kept more of my body clear, and the reduced speed of our battle strengthened the advantage conferred by my reach.
As she attempted to close with me, I punished her with several jabs. Most were blocked, but one slipped past her guard, drawing fresh blood from her wounded muzzle. E’en the jabs that failed to penetrate Lance’s defenses did at least succeed in my primary goal of holding her at bay, preventing her from closing to within mine own reach and allowing her to strike back at me.
As the duel continued, a new problem made itself known to me. Lance’s earlier blows to my torso had left behind a host of injuries, most notably a rib she had either cracked or mayhaps e’en properly broken. The longer the contest continued, the more that wound made itself felt, until it seemed that each breath I took dug a dagger into my side. My breaths came shorter and faster, and my efforts to hold Lance at bay began to flag. Once more her probing strikes grew bolder, and this time when my responses were slow ‘twas not a plot, but genuine weakness.
That is not to say I was entirely spent. When Lance once again grew too bold with one of her probes, I answered her by hurling a hoofful of mud at her eyes. True to her word, she was ready for the underhoofed trick and guarded her face with a wing. However, her wing in front of her face proved just as effective a barrier to sight as my mud would have, and I shifted positions as quickly as I could during the brief opening my ploy created.
Lance was taken by surprise as my forelegs locked around her neck. However, before I could properly set the choke hold, she briefly leapt up into the air, connected to the ground only through my hold on her neck, then returned to earth and with a single mighty heave she hurled me bodily o’er herself. The move allowed me to close her windpipe, but a few seconds without air was no great trial to a prepared warrior, and a minor inconvenience compared to what I had hoped to cost her.
As Lance threw me to the earth, I felt another sharp dagger of pain in my side as my back struck the mud. I rolled to my hooves as quickly as I could to avoid remaining vulnerable on the ground, but the movement put weight on my wounded side, which I did not enjoy in the slightest. Thankfully, Lance’s sense of honor prompted her to allow me to rise to my hooves unmolested.
Despite that small kindness, my situation was most unenviable. The battle had begun to take a toll on me, while aside from the blood dotting Lance’s muzzle, she seemed entirely unconcerned by her own battle wounds. Given that I judged I had landed more blows than she, that struck me as most unfair. I had ne’er judged myself as old enough to have lost my edge before, but now I found myself facing a younger mare who seemed in almost every aspect my physical superior. Faster, stronger, and displaying superior endurance and agility.
I found myself faced with the grim realization that I might very well lose this battle, and be doomed to watch what remained of the war from within a rebel prison cell. ‘Twas a grim prospect indeed, especially if my capture cost Celestia the loyalty of my clan. Were that the case, the heaping of this defeat alongside all the others might well undo the loyalist cause.
Neigh. I could not allow that to come to pass. Whate’er my disadvantages, I would have to find a path to victory, or at the very least force the match to a draw that would allow both parties a chance to withdraw with honor intact. The only difficulty I faced rested in uncovering that particular solution.
The best tactic I could conceive was the first one I had tried and failed to implement: drawing Lance in with the appearance of weakness. No doubt she could see the signs of my strength waning, and might seek to close and finish the matter. Further, she had already won an initial victory when I attempted to feign weakness, and would likely be wary for any trickery. Still, the maneuver could at least buy me some chance, however slim, of victory. That is often the way of things in war; seizing upon the best hope for victory, no matter how desperate and pursuing that hope ‘till the battle’s end.
Ere I could put that plan into action, I was derailed by a most unexpected problem: a Pegasopolan throwing dart took me in the back. As my focus had been entirely upon the opponent, I was entirely unprepared for the treacherous attack, to the point where my first warning was the iron weapon biting into the flesh of my right hind leg.
Thankfully, it did not strike anywhere that would truly cripple me. However, the impact of the dart was still sufficient to knock me from my hooves, and my first effort at rising was quickly halted by the pain radiating from my latest wound. Lance could not fail to see the back end of the dart protruding from my armor, and though I could not see the look on her face, the displeasure was plain enough in her voice. “Who threw the dart? Who would dare to break the sanctity of my duel?”
Nopony stepped forward and admitted their guilt. Once ‘twas plain that would not happen, Lance let out a frustrated growl. “So be it, then. I will not continue our duel after this dishonor. Juris ungula is ended.”
The instant after Lance made her declaration, Stalwart was at my side with a medicae, the two working to carefully remove the spike and bind the wound. Despite the pain, I noted that the members of the hetairoi had not dispersed, but instead watched us with keen interest. I also noted that there were far more pegasi than had been present in the detachment Rightly had left behind, and almost all of the new arrivals bore rebel colors. ‘Twould seem that we had attracted an audience and fallen behind enemy lines o’er the course of our engagement. Troubling.
Once the spike was removed, Dusk Charger stepped forward and claimed it from my sergeant. He gave the weapon a cursory inspection, then let out a frustrated grunt. “Nothing to identify the owner, though ‘twas a thin hope. Most ponies do not carve their name into each of their throwing spikes, especially not when those weapons are to be used for treachery. Pity, for that stupidity on the attacker’s part would have made the investigation quick and simple.”
Lance answered him with a short nod. “‘Twould seem the question will go unanswered, then. Save one possibility.” Lance turned to me with a piercing gaze. “Though I do not intend to accuse you with the question, prudence demands that I ask whether you ordered your subordinates, directly or indirectly, to violate the terms of the duel under any circumstances.”
I met her eyes without hesitation. “I gave no such order, and if ‘tis revealed to me that one of mine own took such an action they will be appropriately punished. You have my word of honor on that.”
Lance studied me briefly, then offered a single nod. “So be it, then. Though I mislike this outcome, your word will suffice. I grant you safe passage from the battlefield.”
One of Lance’s younger brothers—one of the twins, though I did not know them well enough to distinguish ‘tween the two—objected to her ruling. “Sister, is it not obvious that she lies? Why would one of our own break a duel you were in the process of winning? You were moments away from a legitimate victory! Honor does not require that we blind ourselves to her actions and allow her to slip away from us.” Many within the assembled crowd of rebels grunted and growled in agreement with the young Charger.
Mine own clan tensed and readied their weapons at the accusation. We would not let the enemy make a prisoner of me after a broken duel, especially as most of my clanmates likely judged the rebels as the likelier source of the betrayal. Though I had faith in my clan’s strength, I was concerned as to the likely outcome of such a battle. Stalwart and my clanmates were formidable warriors, but the rebels forces had five ponies to every one of ours, and by tradition the hetairoi included many of the greatest warriors in Pegasopolis. Lance’s own combat prowess had proved most worrying, and she seemed wholly capable of continuing to fight, while I would be hobbled by my wounds.
Thus, I felt no small amount of relief when Lance spared an irritated glower for her own forces. “Stand down.” Her hetairoi stepped back and lowered their weapons, but her brothers remained in place. “I will grant that I seemed to hold the advantage when the duel was broken,” Lance allowed, making no move to stop my clanmates from helping me to my hooves. “However, Shadow showed a talent for cunning and trickery, and battle is e’er uncertain. Surely thou dost recall the tale of how Mother earned the title of dragonslayer in her battle ‘gainst Corrodius the Blightbringer—how she feigned weakness and remained on the defensive until the moment she saw her chance and claimed her victory?”
Dusk stepped before his twin brothers, wearing a faint frown. “Be that as it may, sister, her own forces would have far more to gain from breaking the duel than we would.” He turned to me and offered a faint nod. “Though mine own time as a guest ‘mongst her clan disinclines me to think that she would allow such a thing.”
Lance acknowledged her brother’s point with a nod. “‘Tis so, but simply because ‘tis more logical for one of Shadow’s own to break the duel does not mean things must have proceeded in that way. Ponies have been known to take unwise and e’en foolish acts in the heat of battle.” Her eyes turned to her brother, and a faint smile quirked her lips. “I am sure you could tell me of such actions, brother. Whate’er the case may be, we have no proof that she violated the terms of our duel, and the solemn word of a former ephor of Pegasopolis still has weight with both myself and our commander. E’en if ‘twas one of her subordinates acting independently, I will not make a prisoner of a mare for actions taken without her knowledge or consent.”
Dusk gave a resigned sigh, and nodded to his sister. “So be it, then. Though the commander will be saddened that you did not succeed in returning Shadow to our camp, however unwillingly.” He turned to me and offered a faintly mocking half-salute. “Milady, do give my regards to your daughter. Once this current unpleasant business is concluded, I would be more than happy to call upon her once again. I hope you will forgive me, but I think it unwise to attempt to pay court to her while she would be fully within her rights to kill me where I stand.”
“That is a considerably wise decision,” I agreed.
Lance also turned to me, offering a slight nod. “Despite certain unpleasant blows to areas I would prefer had gone unwounded, ‘twas a fine match. I am saddened that we were denied a chance to make a proper end of it. I was curious to see if I could defeat your last gambits.”
“‘Twould have been interesting to see,” I agreed. “Though in honesty, I think it likely. You were the stronger of us for most of the battle’s course.”
“So it seemed,” Lance allowed with a respectful nod. “However, you held the initiative for most of our clash. Battles are often ended with a single decisive blow, and you showed more talent than I in bringing opportunities for such about.”
“A talent equal to your own skill at spoiling my opportunities,” I countered.
Dusk interrupted our conversation by loudly clearing his throat. “With all due respect, if the two of you are quite done complimenting one another’s skill in your recent attempt to beat each other into submission, there is a battle yet to be fought, and other concerns of greater import.”
I noticed that Stalwart had left my side, and followed Dusk’s gaze to find him in hushed conversation with his wife, distant from both our forces. The grim reminder of the cost of civil war killed any feeling of camaraderie I might have had. For a brief moment, in speaking with Dusk, I had almost forgotten that this was a war of life and death, not a simple honor duel or a friendly spar.
Lance also took note of the scene before us, her eyes lingering on the couple for a long moment ere she turned to me. “I can offer him a day’s safe passage in our camp. Time enough to say farewell to his wife and see his daughter.” Her gaze turned to the burned remnants of the rebel supply train. “The rest of you may have passage back to your own lines. ‘Twould hardly be proper to allow our forces to o’erwhelm you simply because the battlefield shifted o’er the course of our duel.”
So Stalwart would be a hostage to ensure we withdrew without incident, then. As such matters go, ‘twas a generous offer. I could only hope that the rebels did not become convinced that one of my loyalists had broken the sanctity of the dueling ring during his time in their camp, else he would likely suffer for it. ‘Twas all but certain that Sierra and Cyclone would both attempt to induce him to join the rebel cause, but I had faith in his loyalty.
Hopefully no evil would come of Stalwart’s brief captivity and the sergeant would merely have an opportunity to see his wife and, with any luck, his child as well ere war tore them asunder once more. (2). Enough families had already been destroyed by this conflict; ‘twould be good to see father and daughter reunited, e’en if only once. For a brief moment, I envied young Astra Kicker-Doo—she, at least, still had a father despite the tragedy of civil war.
2: While Stalwart’s daughter was far too young to be anywhere near the battlefield, the rebels were bringing Cloudsdale along with their army. While Shadow isn’t clear on its exact distance from Canterlot during the Battle of Avalon Vale, one can presume from this statement that it was within viable flying distance.
In any case, I was hardly in a position to refuse an offer of safe passage when I was behind enemy lines and badly outnumbered. “Assuming the sergeant has no objection, I accept your terms.”
Stalwart briefly turned from his wife to face me. “I have no objection, milady Shadow.”
“Well and good, then.” Lance nodded, and a few of her hetairoi fell into place around us as an escort. “Hopefully, we might meet again on the field, Shadow. I mislike unfinished business, and would have a proper conclusion to the matter.” Her voice dropped, and she added, “If there should be another interruption when next we meet in battle, I do not think I am likely to call a halt unless ‘tis plainly evident that mine own forces are in the wrong. And I will guard myself more carefully against certain undeniably effective but ethically questionable attacks.”
“I would expect nothing less.” I offered a tight smile. “If we should meet in battle again, I shall hope that I will have fresh ploys to spring upon you.”
“No doubt,” Lance answered dryly. “Fare you well then, servant of Celestia.”
“You as well, rebel.”
Upon my return to our own lines, the battle was already waning. Darkness had begun to fall, and neither army was inclined to continue the battle into the night. ‘Tween encountering stiffer resistance than expected from our main force, a clever feigned withdrawal by Greenwall, and the disruption caused by mine own strike at their rear, the rebels opted to allow our army a clean withdrawal. The battle had taken a heavy toll on our forces—a few weeks of training for unicorns and earth ponies could not hope to equal the lifetime of preparation a warrior of Pegasopolis enjoyed. Still, despite the heavy losses, the front line had held.
We had established a temporary camp at the mountain’s base, though ‘twould only be used to spend the evening recovering from the battle ere we returned to Canterlot proper. Most importantly, ‘twas within the city’s shield. The battle had produced many wounded, myself among them, and conveying them all the way to Canterlot itself was simply impractical.
For mine own part, Lance had left me with a damaged rib and more bruises than I cared to count, and the leg that had taken a throwing spike from my unknown assailant was incapable of serving as a leg ought to. None of the wounds were critical, but all required proper treatment. ‘Twould be most ignominious if I survived the battle, only to die a week later from an infected wound or bone fragments damaging my lungs.
I was not inclined to demand immediate treatment, though. As was always the case after a major battle, the chirurgeons were most occupied preserving the lives of all they could. I would not take them from that vital work when mine own injuries were less severe, but I certainly had no desire to needlessly suffer either. I nearly instructed Stalwart to find a junior chirurgeon who could spare the time to see to me, ere I recalled his absence.
As I awaited treatment, it occurred that we likely held some advantage o’er the enemy in the treatment of our wounded. While the chirurgeons of Pegasopolis and earth pony healers were masters of their craft, the precision control of unicorn telekinesis granted them a natural advantage in that field, e’en before one considered more advanced healing spells. Unless the rebels had taken any chirurgeons from Polaris’ army, their medicine would largely be of a mundane sort. (3)
3: As Shadow guessed, there were in fact a small number of unicorn doctors in the rebel camp due to the battle against Polaris. Most of Polaris’ medics were far enough from the fighting to survive, and most of the captured doctors agreed to treat the rebels. It’s common practice for any captured medic to treat their captors, whether out of a sense of medical obligation or because of the simple pragmatic fact that a trained doctor is far more valuable than a prisoner. One famous example, Fresh Binding , wound up being the one of the very few ponies to win medals from both sides in the war on account of being captured by the rebels and later reclaimed by the loyalists.
When treatment for my wounds arrived, however, ‘twas not in the form of a chirurgeon. Sunbeam Sparkle strode into my tent, seeming none the worse for the wear despite the battle. Her mane, which when I had last seen her had suffered heavily from her own flames, seemed to have been restored through magic. Though ‘twas hard to be certain of that, given that her robes, mane and coat both were covered in a thin layer of soot—no doubt a legacy of her efforts in the battle. Her eyes turned to my clanmates, and she addressed them with haughty disdain. “Clear the room. I would have words with Shadow whilst I attend her wounds.”
I briefly considered ordering my clanmates to remain, partly to spite her, and partly because I misliked the notion of being alone in a room with her whilst wounded. However, the promise of treatment for my wounds and mine own weariness after the battle won out o’er such impulses, and I waved for my subordinates to leave us.
Once the room was clear, Sunbeam’s shoulders slumped, and her mane returned to the charred and ragged state I recalled having seen it in, the soot covering her thickened and seemed far less artfully applied, and her robes and armor showed far more battle damage than had previously been evident. “My thanks, Shadow. The day has been long enough without having to maintain a glamour while I tend to you.”
I suppose I should have expected that illusion-work from her. A creature of Sunbeam’s pride would not lightly reveal her current state. I suspect that were she capable of it, she would have maintained the illusion e’en with only myself in the room.
She plodded towards me, her eyes clinically scanning over my body. “Well, do not make me find every single injury by myself.” She let out a soft snort. “And you are quite welcome for the aid, no thanks are necessary.”
A blind pony would have seen the hidden barb in those last words. “My thanks for your aid in treating my wounds, Archmagus.” Whate’er else she might be, I did appreciate the effort she made in treating me personally. ‘Tis only polite to thank one’s medicae.
“We both know you do not mean it,” Sunbeam growled, “so spare me the hollow pleasantries. I have had a very long and very trying day, but given how exceedingly fond of you Her Majesty is, I cannot leave your wounds untreated. Pray spare me from any of your usual histrionics about what a foul and evil mare I am for ensuring that you do not die from an infection.”
Given her obvious foul mood, I prudently opted for silence, beyond answering her inquiries. ‘Twould not do to provoke my chirurgeon while she tended my wounds. “Aside from the bruising, I have a piercing wound to my right rear leg, and I suspect at least one cracked or broken rib.”
“Wonderful.” From the growl in her voice, one would think I had sustained all those injuries with the specific intention of making her life more troublesome. “The rib will have to wait for a proper chirurgeon to see to it. The last time I attempted to heal injury to a bone, I was ultimately forced to cut it out and regrow it entirely. And that was a far less vital bone than a rib.” Her gaze briefly lingered on my leg. “The rest, I can attend to well enough. To spare myself your complaints, I will forewarn you that my healing has ne’er been gentle.”
Moments later her horn lit, and I felt as if she had set a fire in my flesh. Like Sunbeam, I had mine own pride to attend, and despite the considerable pain, I clenched my teeth and refused to give voice to my agony. If nothing else, I would not give Sunbeam the pleasure of hearing me cry out in pain. It passed soon enough, and I found that with the exception of sharp pain within my side, my injuries had faded to a dull ache, like one would feel after a long day’s exertions.
I dropped a hoof to my wounded leg, and found the wound scabbed over. When I tested my leg’s movement ‘twas still sore and weak, but not so much of either that ‘twould fail to serve if called upon. I did not give the mare a chance to make another sour comment. “Your healing is most effective, Archmagus. My thanks for it.”
That earned a mocking snort from her. “Ah, so you can be taught basic manners.”
Any inclination I might have had to indulge her foul mood was rapidly fading in the face of her barbs. “If you cannot keep a civil tongue, pray depart and leave me in peace. Your healing is appreciated, but I have done nothing to earn your hostility on this day.”
Sunbeam’s mouth opened to deliver some fresh insult, but ere the words left her mouth she paused, and a faint frown crossed her face. Then she did something I never would have expected of her. “You are correct. My apologies; as I said, it has been a long and trying day.”
I resisted the urge to return her remark about teaching a pony civility, though with some difficulty. ‘Twould be rather foolish to insult her moments after making peace. A seemingly genuine apology was an unexpected and most welcome concession, so I opted to be the better mare. “Think nothing of it, Archmagus. As you said, battle is trying. ‘Tis only natural that nerves will be frayed and tempers short after such an event.”
“My thanks for your understanding.” She sighed and ran a hoof o’er her face. “Lance Charger has proven to be a considerable problem for the both of us. I suppose I should save you the trouble of a long and bothersome investigation when we have troubles enough as it stands.” She reached into her tattered robes, and produced something I recognized quite well: a Pegasopolan throwing dart.
From there ‘twas simple enough to grasp what had passed. “‘Twas you who broke the duel, then.” My eyes fell to my leg, and the wound she had left behind. “Is that the reason you would come to heal my wounds, then? Tell me, was it a guilty conscience that compelled you to seek me out, or did you merely hope to conceal the evidence of your crimes?”
Sunbeam rolled her eyes in response to my accusation. “If I was hoping to conceal my actions, I hardly would have confessed them, now would I? Beside which, I am sure you have intelligence enough to grasp precisely why I acted as I did. Curious as it seems, the hole I put through your leg likely saved your life, or at the very least your dignity. How many ponies can claim such a thing?”
I was in no mood to hear her praise herself for all but literally stabbing me in the back, and breaking the sanctity of a duel as well. “If you expect to be thanked for it, you have misjudged me.”
“Spare me your self-righteous indignation.” Sunbeam turned to me, reclaiming the dart while she ran a hoof along her neck. “You were unlikely to end the duel as the victor, and we both know the war effort cannot afford to lose you at this juncture. What I did was necessary, and for all your talk of honor, you know it. If your selfish guilt o’er the duel’s breaking is so great, then by all means go to the rebel and turn yourself in. I am sure you will enjoy the rebel’s tender mercies. Let all Equestria burn, so that you might at least be able to sit within a prison cell, basking in the glow of your own honor as all we have worked for crumbles to ash.”
To my displeasure, I could offer no answer to her. Had I not hoped, as the duel reached its lowest point, that some outside force might break it? Sunbeam had provided the very deliverance I had sought, yet I would condemn her for it. In truth, she had served much the same function that she often did for Celestia: to take those foul but sometimes unfortunately necessary actions that her more honorable peers could not.
There was a curious sort of honor in that. To take actions that would blacken her name and reputation, but ultimately serve the cause of making a better Equestria. ‘Twas a strange thing to think upon, but in this case her wickedness served Equestria far better than my decency would have. I could only hope that no further evils would be born of it—though ‘twas undeniable that she had solved the immediate crisis, often the greatest consequences of dishonorable actions lie in the future.
Sunbeam, however, did not seem the least bit concerned by the possibility. Instead, she turned to me with a smile that radiated self-satisfied pride. “Your silence is answer enough regarding the rightness of my actions. I had hoped for a proper display of gratitude from you, though I am not so vain that I feel I need to be complimented for every good deed I do.”
It seemed she was quite content to congratulate herself whate’er I said, though I suspected that some of her attitude might be less a matter of genuine pride than a provocation. Crossguard had warned me that she was prone to acting so. Likely she was attempting to draw me into yet another argument; one which I had little inclination to indulge her in. That suspicion was confirmed when she stepped nearer to me, and her voice dropped to a low whisper. “Though if you will not show gratitude through words, there are always other means by which you might express yourself. I have heard it said that in the aftermath of battle soldiers will often seek the pleasures of the bedchamber as a celebration of their survival.”
Rather than rise to her bait, I responded in kind. “Curious to see you in such a light mood, so soon after wounding me. One might almost suspect you rather enjoyed it.”
Sunbeam let out a low chuckle and took a place at my side. “You are merely having trouble admitting that I am right. It is a common affliction, one e’en Her Majesty suffers from at times. However, you cannot deny that all your objectives were achieved, and in no small part due to my actions.” She shifted a small measure nearer, her side briefly brushing my own. “Surely such good service deserves a proper reward, neigh?”
“Your point is fairly made. An evening’s pleasure is a fair reward for all that you have done.” I leaned close to her, suppressing a smile as I noted the growing smirk on her face. “Once our business here is concluded I shall suggest as much to Crossguard. I am sure we can spare a few kegs of cider for our forces, after all that they have done on this day. Though alas, the magi will not be able to participate in the festivities, given the prohibition against drunkenness.” (4)
4: There were very strict laws about magi, or magically powerful unicorns in general, drinking heavily or using other mind-altering substances. I shudder to think of how much unintentional chaos Princess Twilight might cause if she got plastered. She’s dangerous enough when she just gets a little worked up.
“Ah, so you would celebrate while deliberately excluding me from proceedings?” A teasing frown crossed her face. “How utterly cruel. Do not be so unkind to one of your most valued allies. Think how the soldiers would react, upon learning that the magi who safeguarded them would be excluded.”
“I am sure thy—your absence will only serve to heighten the joyous mood,” I countered dryly.
“And ponies say that I am heartless.” She poked me in the shoulder, a coy grin on her face. “And did I hear a 'thy' from thy lips? Have I grown so dear to thy heart as to allow such casual discourse? If so I welcome it, and all that will follow.”
“Do not flatter thyself.” I turned from her, a smirk gracing mine own lips. “I did not address thee so as an endearment, but because my respect for thee has fallen e’en further. I did not think such a thing was e’en possible after all that has passed between us, yet somehow it has occurred.”
Sunbeam crossed her forelegs o’er her chest like a pouting filly. “Alas, I am so underappreciated. And after doing so marvelously at my task of incinerating the rebels' supplies too...”
“Oh, aye.” I nudged her shoulder with my own. “If not for thy presence, I might have been forced to rely 'pon a burning stick of wood instead. Truly, thou art irreplaceable.”
Sunbeam let forth an annoyed huff, sticking her nose into the air as if she had smelt something particularly offensive. “I knew thou didst not properly value my contributions, but I did not think thou wouldst propose that I could be so easily replaced by burning bundles of sticks! Thou dost realize that thanks to me the rebels will be forced to withdraw for a time.”
“I am sure the tens of thousands of ponies in the rest of our army had no role in driving the rebels back.” I put a hoof under my chin, considering the matter. “Still, it may be that there is merit to thy point. Unlike thee, a bundle of sticks would accept its limited role with grace and dignity, nor would it constantly make inappropriate and unwanted advances ‘pon me.”
“Ah, but mere wood cannot offer witty repartee,” Sunbeam offered in her own defense. “The very conversation we now enjoy would be impossible were I replaced. Trees have ne’er been known as great orators.”
“That much is true,” I allowed. “So be it, then. You have some small use to our army, and I will not advise the Commander to replace thee.”
“My relief is so great that I cannot put words to it,” Sunbeam announced dryly. “We must speak more often, then, so that my one unique contribution to the war effort will continue to be of value.”
My answer took me by surprise. “I look forward to it.” (5)
5: This shift in the dynamic between Shadow and Sunbeam does seem rather sudden, but I suspect a good deal of it is due to the fact that they fought in battle together. Shadow hinted at as much in the previous chapter, where she did not object to some of the magi joining her clan’s pre-battle rituals. It’s a fairly common phenomenon in the military: once you go to battle alongside somepony, it creates a kind of bond. It doesn’t mean you’re suddenly best friends, or even like each other, but being comrades-in-arms does make a connection. For a pony raised by a warrior society like Shadow, that connection was probably even stronger.
Sunbeam greeted that news with a small but genuine smile. One that I answered in kind. There was a brief but companionable silence ‘tween us, and when she broke it there was no more jesting within her voice. “A bundle of sticks would not have saved thee from thine own foolish plan.”
My pride could not accept that without some comment. “I was not yet wholly beaten.”
“Ah, so thou wert on the verge of clinching victory from the jaws of defeat with a broken rib, gasping for breath, and covered in mud, all while facing a mare who thou art half again as old as?” Sunbeam slowly shook her head. “Either thy tactics are of such utter brilliance that they completely elude me, or thou wert at a considerable disadvantage.”
Damn her and her facts. “Victories have been won in worse circumstances.”
“Defeats have been suffered under better,” she immediately countered. The smile slipped from her face a moment later, and she slowly shook her head. “And the situation was e’en worse than thou knowest.” I felt the familiar distortion of a privacy spell settling around us. “I believe I know why Her Majesty has placed such high value on Lance Charger’s life, and if ‘tis true then I strongly advise thee not to meet her in battle under any circumstances.
“As I am sure you recall, during the battle I attempted to spellcast ‘pon Lance Charger.” I thought back to the extremely lethal firebolt Sunbeam had unleashed on the mare, and a faint scowl crossed my lips. Sunbeam took note of my expression and rolled her eyes. “Yes, Her Majesty did instruct me to spare Lance’s life. She would have survived my spell e’en if it had struck for full effect. She would not have enjoyed it, but she would have survived. Though ‘tis a moot point, regardless. I am sure you recall that my spell had almost no effect on the mare?”
“I do.” At the time it had seemed curious, though I had been far too busy with the rest of the battle to give the matter much thought. “From thy words, I take it there was more to her endurance than a few plates of cold iron added to her armor?”
“Far more.” All traces of mirth left her. “If ‘twere that, she still would have been badly burned in every place her armor could not cover. Instead, she was unscathed. The reason for it is quite simple. Somepony actively countered my spell as it was cast.”
“Art thou certain of that?” Though an archmagus ought to know such things, I could not see how her claim could have come to pass. “There were no unicorns present at the clash, other than thee. Unicorns who have skill enough to counter thy spells are few and far between, and none are known to be in the rebel ranks. E’en if the rebels had such a unicorn, they would not be able to counter thee whilst remaining distant enough from the clash as to go unnoticed by us.”
“All true points,” she readily agreed. “Which is why I have come to another conclusion. Logic would dictate that if no unicorn could have countered my spell, then there are two other possibilities. Either some force of sufficient power to hide itself while defeating my magic has aligned itself with the rebel cause, or a pegasus countered my spell.”
“And a pegasus cannot use magic as unicorns do.” I frowned, turning the thought in my head. “However, I cannot imagine Rightly would align himself with one of the ancient evils, or know how to break the bindings Celestia has placed upon them.”
“Precisely.” Sunbeam turned a troubled gaze upon me. “A question for thee, Shadow. In the course of thy battle with her, didst thou note that Lance’s physical capabilities seemed beyond the norm, e’en for a mare of obvious prowess? That her strength and endurance would do credit to an earth pony?” The frown she wore deepened. “And didst thou e’er take a blow from her, which thou couldst not say with certainty came from her hooves?”
“She was very fast, strong, and tough,” I conceded, “Moreso than I would have expected of her. I find nothing o’erly shocking in that, though. Bright Charger is the best warrior Pegasopolis has; ‘tis no surprise that her daughter is similarly a paragon of physical might.”
I thought back to the blow Lance had struck me, after I had hit beneath her tail. At the time I had thought it odd, but presumed she had simply managed a clever maneuver I had missed. However, now that the question was asked... “I cannot say with certainty on thy second question. There is a blow I cannot account for, but battle is quick and chaotic, and a grapple doubly so.”
“How very interesting.” Sunbeam tapped a hoof against her chin. “Let us consider the facts, then. We have a mare who, when facing hostile magic, has the spells countered ere they strike. Her opponents note speed and endurance beyond that of an ordinary pegasus, and are struck by blows that cannot be accounted for by hoof or wing. And the only alicorn in all Equestria has shown a keen interest in this mare, far beyond what one would expect, to the point of making her survival a vital war objective. Tell me, what conclusion do all these facts suggest?”
I thought back to mine own discussion of Lance Charger with Celestia. How she had spoken of Lance’s potential, and the destiny that lay before her. Mad though it seemed, I could conjure only one answer that matched the presented facts. “Art thou claiming that Lance Charger is somehow in the process of transforming into an alicorn?”
“That is the only conclusion I can see that is consistent with all of the facts before us,” Sunbeam agreed, her face grim. “I trust thou canst grasp the severity of our peril, if this be the case. Despite the small victory we have won this day, our situation remains dire. If the rebels somehow gain an alicorn...” Sunbeam trailed off, and shook her head. “I noted thy displeasure, at the thought that my spell might have slain Lance Charger. I assure thee, if our fears are true, by the war’s end all Equestria will wish I had slain her ere she achieved her full potential.”
Ascendant Shadows: Prologue
Editor’s Note: Since Shadow is obviously in no condition to provide us with insight into the war’s progress, we will continue with another excerpt from Dusk’s memoirs.
Our forward siege camp within Mount Avalon was something different from anything I had e’er experienced before. The entire mountain between us and the open sky was a constant, oppressive reminder of our circumstances. E’en with our engineers hard at work to widen the caverns and breach the ceiling to let in fresh air, ‘twas difficult to escape the constant feeling of confinement.
Matters were not helped by the smell. An army in the field develops a certain musk characteristic of a large number of individuals concentrated within a relatively small area with woefully insufficient sanitation. The latter issue was especially pronounced within the confines of an underground siege camp—digging a proper latrine trench through solid rock is not an easy endeavour. Not to mention the fact that the loyalist forces, having naturally placed their fortifications on elevated positions, had arranged for their own waste to flow down into our camp.
I am sure that whatever romantic accounts will be written about the glorious siege of Canterlot will neglect to mention that we fought these battles surrounded by the smell of shit. To be sure, we had made numerous efforts to diminish the smell, but thus far we had only managed small, temporary victories.
“I suspect this is how Celestia intends to destroy us,” I idly remarked to my wingmare, Sierra Doo. “If this persists much longer, I will happily lay down mine arms just for the chance to smell something pleasant.” I removed my helmet, which I had stuffed with fresh-cut grass and wildflowers in an effort to offset the smell. For a time it had been effective, but now my head smelled like sweaty, excrement-infused daisies.
Sierra grimaced and nodded. “I have heard that morale is suffering for it, especially amongst our militia forces.” She waved to the earth pony section of the camp, where the tents lacked the neat military precision of the clan forces. “We have been trapped beneath this mountain for near a month now, and with little sign of progress. With Shadow and Crossguard both slain, I had dared to hope this was nearly o’er.”
I sighed and shook my head. “We have suffered as badly as they have, and only breached one of several lines of fortification. Not to mention that after Mother’s betrayal of the truce flag, we have little hope of persuading the loyalists to lay down their arms.”
Sierra frowned, her voice dropping to an angry hiss. “Have a care how thou speakest, Dusk. Surely thou knowest that we are most keenly watched.”
Mine eyes turned to a pair of Blade clansponies, ostensibly working a cookfire a short distance away. ‘Twas rare for me to go anywhere without seeing at least one of Swift Blade’s kin who just so happened to be standing about in a place that would allow him or her to o’erhear my remarks. ‘Twas rather flattering to think the Ephor considered me such a grave threat that I would be subjected to constant and dedicated surveillance. I smiled and waved to our watchers, who hastily set about making themselves e’en more conspicuously inconspicuous.
Sierra’s lips thinned in disapproval. “Thinkest thou that this is some game? A merry jest to be enjoyed at another’s expense? Swift Blade is an ephor, and one who stands in high favor with the Commander after her … transformation.”
Mine own countenance darkened at the reminder of the fate that had befallen my mother, and all hint of merriment fled my face. “I have not forgotten the role he played in that, Sierra.” I turned to the spies once more. “Inform your master of that , if you would.”
Sierra frowned, grasping one of mine ears and forcing my head about to face her once more. “Hast thou taken leave of thy senses?!” she hissed. “Swift Blade has not forgotten how you humiliated him, and he is not a forgiving stallion.”
“Thinkest thou that he will hate me any less if I am kind to his servants?” I growled back. “I will not grovel before that ill-favored wretch just because he holds power after the atrocity he inflicted upon my mother. Not to mention what he has done to our army.”
I angrily waved towards the flags hanging limply o’er our camp. Where before the proud wings on a field of stars had flown, now our banners featured the Avatar in profile on a field of purple. ‘Twas a rather chilling testament to how our cause had shifted. “‘Tis a sad thing, is it not? We began this war to o’erthrow the tyranny of an immortal alicorn and deliver the government back into mortal hooves, yet now we are fighting for an alicorn’s cause beneath her banner.” For a moment I was sorely tempted to rip the nearest banner from its pole and place it in our latrines, where it more properly belonged. “We no longer fight for our traditional freedoms. Instead ‘tis a question of which queen we shall bow to when the war is done.”
Sierra clapped a hoof o’er my mouth, and I realized that my voice had begun to rise. “Mind thy words!” she snarled. “Some of us do not enjoy thy relative safety from punishment as the Commander’s son.” She paused, glowering at me pointedly before glancing briefly to the side and lowering her voice. “Swift Blade would not hesitate to punish thine allies if he cannot strike at thee directly.”
I fell silent, chastened by her warning. Loathe as I was to admit it, there was truth to what she said. Ardent Stalker and Solus Kicker had already been stripped from my side and sent to a secondary theater of the war, likely the pursuit of Mossy Banks and his accomplices. While their clans were certainly suited to the task of hunting down guerillas, I suspected that the assignment had less to do with their capabilities than the fact that it removed two of mine allies from the camp. I am sure that Swift would have sent me to join them if he could have arranged it.
A bell chimed, and I sighed and rose to my hooves. “Noon. Mother will be expecting me ere much longer.” For the moment, I remained captain of the hetairoi in spite of Swift’s best efforts. In all honesty, there were times when I wished he might be more successful. Hunting partisans in the swamp might not offer opportunities for glory and renown, but I had lost much of my taste for war in the weeks since Gale’s capture and Shadow’s murder. The fate that befell my Mother only deepened my discontent, as did the deaths of Lance and Thunder.
Sierra directed a knowing look my way. “Thou art going to see her again, aye?”
“I am,” I confessed. ‘Twas little point in lying to Sierra, who had come to know me as well as any of mine own kin.
Sierra slowly shook her head, a weary chuckle leaving her lips. “Dusk, thy pursuit of the mare was doomed before thou didst play a role in her imprisonment. Surely thou canst not believe she is any fonder of thee now?”
I could not dispute her words, but they changed nothing. “After all that has befallen Gale Kicker, I can at least offer her a few small kindnesses. I do not think ‘twill make her like me any better, but...” I trailed off with a helpless shrug.
“Aye.” Her own eyes shifted to the loyalist fortress. I knew the wistful, troubled look that glazed her eyes all too well. Once more her thoughts lingered on her husband, who fought alongside Celestia’s forces. The greatest evil of civil war is that it sunders bonds of family and friendship in the name of duty and honor. And now I could not help but wonder if duty and honor still had any place in this conflict.
My status as captain of the hetairoi afforded me much nicer accommodations than the average soldier, so much so that my tent was large enough to hold half a squad. That is not to say I lived in luxury—most of the spare room was taken up by extra equipment, various reports on recent engagements, and above all, my less-than-willing guest.
Captivity did not seem to suit Gale Kicker, not e’en the relatively mild version she had been subjected to under my care. A simple sleeping pallette in my quarters was far preferable to the crude wooden stockades the rest of prisoners were held in, but I knew I only offered her a gilded cage. Her mane lay limp on her head, and her wings had clearly gone neglected for some time. Her state was not so poor as to be pallid, but she had put far more effort into maintaining her appearance as a free mare.
‘Twas possible some of that impression stemmed from her current state of dress. While clad in her clan’s armor and carrying far more weapons than just the traditional wing-blades, Gale had been a formidable figure. Clad in a simple red tunic and completely unarmed, she looked far smaller and not nearly so fearsome. Her manner was far less confident too, her shoulders slumped and her eyes heavy with grief and weary resignation to her fate.
Naturally, I had guards posted on the entrance, though they were as much for Gale’s protection as to keep her from escaping. With all the changes rippling through our army, I no longer trusted all of my comrades to leave her unharassed. I stepped past them and into the tent, doing my best to greet my guest with a smile despite the circumstances. “Greetings, Gale. I hope you are doing well today?”
To my surprise, Gale answered my smile with one of her own. “I am quite well, thank you.”
For a moment, I dared to hope that we might finally have a pleasant conversation. “Good. I trust there have not been any problems?”
Gale waved my questions away. “The guards have done a very good job of keeping unwanted visitors out and providing me anything I need, so long as I cannot use it to escape.” Her smile continued to grow wider, until ‘twas far too happy for her current status.
I quirked an eyebrow, hoping against hope that mine instincts were wrong. The day had been troublesome enough without Gale vexing me as well. “You seem to be in an especially happy mood. Is there anything I should know about?”
She chuckled, a mischievous light entering her eyes. “Nothing I would care to say. 'Twill be much more satisfying if you discover it for yourself.”
I restrained the urge to groan as she all but confirmed my fears. Like many prisoners, Gale took a wicked delight in making her jailors as miserable as possible. I could only hope that she had not done anything too troublesome this time.
Given that the entire point of this exercise was to incite my fury, I concluded that the best response was remain as flippant as possible. “Ah, something to look forward to. I do love a good surprise. I hope ‘twill not be anything that would cause somepony to challenge me to juris ungula .” I paused, then amended, “Unless ‘twere Swift Blade, and he faced me himself instead of hiding behind a champion.”
Gale answered with a troublesome smirk. “That would depend on how easily his nose is offended.” Her smile sharpened, and her tone grew cutting. “Though I must wonder if you will e’en notice the difference. Your odor has ne’er been pleasant.”
Ah. At least I was somewhat forewarned as to the nature of the newest misery she intended to inflict upon me. “Dare I ask what foulness you have placed within my living quarters?”
Gale refused to say anything more, though her smile remained entirely too self-satisfied for me to feel remotely safe. ‘Twould seem she had revealed all she intended to, so instead I went about searching my quarters. Given her remarks ‘twas safe to assume she had placed something foul-smelling within my room.
My thoughts turned first to mine equipment chest, which was well-suited to concealing an unpleasant surprise. Though I had kept it carefully locked e’er since Gale joined me, I was under no illusions as to its security. ‘Twas why I no longer kept any weapons within my tent, save those that I wore on my person. If Gale stole one of my blades, the only question was whether she would murder me immediately or wait to slit my throat whilst I slept. Truly, my judgement in choosing a mare with which to become enamored was abysmal.
Though despite it all, she was still so very fine to look upon.
I was not surprised when I found nothing amiss in mine equipment chest. ‘Twas an eminently logical place for Gale to use, and that likely was the very reason she had not chosen it. An obvious hiding place is a poor one, for ‘tis the very location that is searched. I turned to her, still smiling pleasantly. “If this is one of those games where you have not sabotaged my quarters in any way and merely implied such to unsettle me, I will take away your tunic and force you to a wear one of the fine ballroom gowns the Unicornian nobles are so fond of. A pink one. With flowers.”
Gale offered no response, and so I continued my search. ‘Twas some time ere I realized what she had done, for she had most cleverly chosen to conceal her wicked actions by neatening my sleeping area. ‘Twas something she did often enough, I suspect out of simple boredom due to her confinement. As I drew near my pallet, I noted that the unpleasant odor which permeated the entire camp seemed especially sharp. A close inspection revealed that my pallet had recently been sliced open and crudely stitched shut. I tore open the stitches and discovered that Gale had added something most unpleasant to the straw within my mattress.
She offered me a poisonously sweet smile. “I made your bed for you.”
I sighed and slowly ran a hoof down my face. I was too tired to suffer more of Gale’s petty slights, and now the one relief I had for exhaustion had been taken away from me as well. “Why did you do that?”
Despite mine obvious displeasure, her smile remained firmly in place. “I would think that my reasons are rather obvious, e’en to someone with your dubious mental capacity.”
“And this will somehow make it right?” I growled and waved at my befouled pallet. “What does this accomplish?”
Gale sneered as she answered me. “Does it cause you misery and inconvenience?”
I felt something within my breast snap at the sheer petty malice of her question. Ere I realized mine own actions I had charged her, grasping her shoulder and pinning her against the thin walls of my tent. “Yes, I am miserable! I am unhappy! Does that please you?! Does that make you happy?!” Her eyes were wide with shock as I continued. “Does some stupid, idiotic, foolish, halfwit prank only worthy of a senseless base filly lessen the pain over your murdered mother?! Does that petty vengeance offset all the wrongs you have suffered?”
As my chest heaved from the heat of my words and emotions, Gale stared back at me blankly. Her jaw opened and closed, yet no words left her throat. For once, she seemed at a loss to provide me with any answer.
After some time, I carefully relaxed my hold on her, turning my back and gasping in several deep breaths. I did not know why my composure had shattered so utterly, but I knew it would not do to let her see me in such a state. Whate’er else I might hope for, she was my prisoner, and one does not show weakness in front of a captive. And if things were to e’er change, I would not wish to seem weak and pathetic in her eyes. Finally, I felt I had recovered enough to offer at least basic civility. “I apologize for mine outburst, milady. ‘Twas unworthy of me.” E’en then, my voice still sounded tight to my own ears.
Silence hung long and heavy ‘tween us, e’en after that apology. While Gale did not accept mine apology, I took some consolation from the fact that she did not cast it back into my teeth either. When she finally spoke, ‘twas on another matter entirely. “Did you know of your mother's intentions when you came under the flag of truce?”
I quirked an eyebrow. A part of me was surprised it had taken her so long to ask the question, though I suppose I should have expected it. As with the recent deaths within mine own family, the topic was no doubt still too near and painful for her. ‘Twas far easier to carry on wrapped in the cloak of duty than to face the loss squarely, let alone speak of it to another. Especially to a hated enemy.
Howe’er, now that she had asked the question, I owed her the courtesy of a proper response. “Neigh, I did not.” I closed mine eyes and let out a long breath. “I thought she meant to challenge your mother to a duel. Not base murder.” The memory of that day remained fresh in my mind. “I should have known; I do not think Mother herself consciously intended treachery. ‘Twas simply that when faced with the mare who had slain Lance ... her actions were wrong, but I can understand the love that drove them.”
Gale’s eyes remained fixed upon mine, no doubt searching for any sign that I might be lying to her. ‘Twould seem that she found none, for a frown slowly grew upon her face. “I find that I believe you, strange as it seems. For all your many, many faults, you are no blackguard. You have treated me far better than I expected when I came under your custody.”
Considering how low her expectations probably were, I was not entirely certain that was a compliment. Given mine undeniable attraction to her, she had likely feared for her virtue as my prisoner. Not that I would e’er have considered such a thing. “I am pleased that you have at least conceded that I am no fiend of pure evil. I had hoped your opinion of me might improve as we came to know one another better.”
Gale’s expression darkened. “Do not think I have softened, traitor. Make no mistake, I would still gladly slay you given the chance.”
I could not help but wince, both at her remark and at the thought of being slain. “I suppose I cannot hold that against you.” In all honesty, I feared the blades of mine own comrades as much as those of the enemy in recent days. I knew Gale’s threat for the empty bluster it was—killing me would only end badly for her. If she were not summarily executed as reprisal for attacking me, she would certainly find herself in far less pleasant accommodations.
She nodded, as much to herself as to me, seeming to have reached much the same conclusion as myself. “I am not blind to what you have done for me. Mine imprisonment could be far less pleasant, or I might have joined my mother in death. I will remember that.”
I felt a hint of a smile slowly working its way onto my face. “Ah, so when the time comes for you to slay me, you will at least make it quick?”
To my great surprise and pleasure, she answered with a very faint but genuine smile. ‘Twas the first time I had seen a true smile on her lips since her mother’s death. “Aye, I will. A knife through the eye and directly into the brain, I should think. There will not e'en be enough time to feel pain.”
I chuckled and offered her a mocking bow. “At least I will have that to look forward to, if nothing else. Most ponies do not even have the benefit of knowing when and how they will die, much less to know 'twould be something quick and painless.”
Gale’s tentative smile grew slightly larger. “I will be glad to bestow that gift upon you when the time comes.” She fell silent for a brief time, and that rare smile completely vanished. In its place she looked weary, and slightly chastened. “Shall I help secure a new pallet for you? The task is more easily managed with a second set of hooves.”
‘Twas as close as an apology as I was likely to receive from her, given the circumstances. I would be a great fool indeed to refuse it. “I would welcome your aid, Gale. And I would certainly prefer to have a pallet that I can actually sleep on.”
“Then let us waste no time in seeing it done,” she declared. I stepped out of the tent first, Gale following a few steps behind. The guards watching the entrance came with us to watch o’er her, lest she use the opportunity to escape. She increased her pace as we trotted through the camp, drawing alongside me once more. “I should warn you that if you make e’en one ill-chosen jape about me sharing that sleeping pallet with you, I will murder you in your sleep.”
I answered with a grin. “So noted.”
‘Twas perhaps telling that my mood upon entering the Commander’s tent was far darker than it had been when I walked alongside my nominal enemy. Though in truth, I had precious few friends in this place. Swift Blade sat at my mother’s right hoof, sneering down at me. On her left was the warlock Hidden Facts, who now styled himself as the true Archmagus of Canterlot. Joining them were the newly appointed representative of the Doo clan and an Ephor from the Stormwind clan who had taken the abandoned Kicker seat. Both were ponies of little distinction who held their posts primarily because they were willing to parrot Swift’s own proposals. The representative of the Free Earth Pony Provisional Government was similarly one of his, though his voice had little weight in the war council. While the Avatar seemed more willing to use earth pony forces, she still offered them little voice in the conduct of the war.
The one ally I might have amongst the ephors was Steel Striker, and my sire was a pale shadow of the strong stallion he had once been. For two weeks it had been uncertain whether he would survive the vicious wounds he had received in his duel with Grandmaster Crossguard. Though he lived, recovery had taken a heavy toll; his muscles had already begun to waste away, and he held his seat with a stiffness that spoke of intense pain. My sister, who had treated his wounds, told me that almost every joint in his lower body had lost its synovial cavity, and movement would have meant nothing less than grinding his own bones together.
Dawn had done everything she could to make him remain abed, but Ephor Striker could not be dissuaded once he had set his mind to a course of action. In truth, he did not attend merely out of a sense of duty—had he been unable to join the Ephorate’s meetings, Swift might well have forced him into retirement, or at least demanded a placeholder be named. No doubt that placeholder would have been another who would serve as Swift’s lackey, e’en though mine ally Bronze Striker stood next in line to command his brother’s clan. My sire would drag himself from his sickbed ere he let his voice in the Ephorate be replaced by a sycophant.
That was much the same reason Mother still held the Charger seat, despite assuming the rank of Commander. ‘Twould be most difficult to deny the seat to me, and Swift would hardly welcome that. And in truth, few cared that it technically violated the old laws of Pegasopolis. Those laws did not have the same weight that they had ere the Avatar arrived.
My gaze at last turned to Mother, though ‘twas difficult to still think of her as such when I regarded her new form. Where before I had stood slightly taller than her, now she healthily o’ertopped e’en the largest stallions, and my head only came up to her shoulders. Her build at least remained much the same: slim and packed with tight muscle, though now spread across a substantially larger body. Her mane had grown longer and a darker shade of blue which reminded me of the paintings I had seen of Commander Luna. Likewise, her new armor was reminiscent of Luna’s old warplate, a set of silvery steel the color of moonlight.
And of course, the most notable change of all, the large horn sprouting from the middle of her forehead.
Howe’er, there was another alteration which only those who knew her dearly would take note of. There was a ... wrongness to her. Nothing I could place or put words to, but mine instincts told me to be wary of her. And where once she had looked upon me with a mother’s warmth and kindness, now I saw faint flickers of coldness within her eyes. ‘Twas a subtle thing, and seen so rarely that I was not sure if ‘twas the truth or merely mine own eyes deceiving me.
I did not truly understand what changes had been wrought upon my mother in order to craft her into the Avatar. I wondered if e’en Hidden Facts and Swift Blade truly grasped what they had done to her. I knew that she had been transformed in body, but how much of her spirit had been altered? If she were truly Luna’s avatar, then that would suggest that my mother was for all intents and purposes dead, with our exiled commander merely wearing her flesh. And yet she also acted as my mother and held command of the Chargers. She spoke with Mother’s voice and used Mother’s words.
I took my seat at the table, across from my hated enemies and the creature that may or may not have been my mother. I could not help but note that I was the last to arrive. “I apologize for my lateness. I was occupied.”
“Aye, the whole camp is aware of the mare who occupies thine attention.” Flash’s whisper was carefully measured so that ‘twould only carry to a few ears, mine among them. In the past his remark might have seemed the usual harmless teasing which younger siblings are wont to inflict upon their elders. Yet now I noted how his position behind and to the side of Mother placed him near Swift Blade as well, and how the ephor chortled at my brother’s remark.
E’er since Mother’s change, Flash seemed especially eager to make himself of use to her. Mayhaps ‘twas a result of his twin’s death and Mother’s harsh words to him ere she fell from her wounds. Or mayhaps ‘twas more a consequence of the changes to Mother, for it had been he who informed Swift and his warlocks of Mother’s injuries. Her current state was a direct result of my brother’s actions. It might be that he had taken Swift’s side in the hope that his actions on that day would somehow be vindicated. Whatever the cause, seeing my brother reduced to one of Swift’s lickspittles did little to lift my mood.
Once I had taken my seat Swift Blade rose, addressing the assembly. “Now that we are all finally assembled, perhaps we could begin?” I grit my teeth and let the jibe pass, as ‘twas not severe enough that I could demand satisfaction for it. No doubt ‘twas some new stratagem of Swift’s; he would bombard me with minor provocations, in the hope that I would o’erreact to one of them and provide him the excuse he needed to make a fool of me. The best counter was to bear his remarks in silence, and hope that doing so would provoke him into saying something that would give me cause to challenge him. Though I doubt he would be caught without a champion ready to defend him when next I demanded satisfaction.
When none objected, Swift continued. “As I am sure you all know, we are here to discuss the current state of the siege of Canterlot.”
Ere I could think better of it, my lips moved of their own accord. “If you are so certain we all know it already, Ephor, then I wonder why you felt it necessary to inform of us of that fact. I am sure our time is valuable, so let us not waste it telling one another what we all know.”
My barb drew fewer chuckles than Flash’s, if only because too many of the ponies in the room were aligned with Swift. After sparing a few moments to glare hatefully at me, Swift began droning on about various matters pertaining to our supply situation. I cared little for such matters so long as we were not critically short of anything we needed.
Instead of attending Swift’s painfully extended speech, I devoted mine attention to the other members of the war council. I was pleasantly surprised to see a barely noticeable smirk on the warlock’s face as he listened to his nominal ally’s words. That at least confirmed my suspicions regarding the nature of the alliance between Swift and the rogue magus. For a time I had wondered if Swift might have aligned so quickly with the warlocks because he too was a hidden servant of Nightmare Moon. Howe’er, the carefully concealed contempt I saw in Hidden’s eyes told a different tale. ‘Twas not a matter of brotherhood in a common cause so much as an alliance of convenience. Now that Hidden Facts had his Avatar, I wondered how long he would continue to find Swift Blade useful to his designs.
‘Twas chilling to realize that for all the damage he had caused, Swift Blade was not some mad, power-hungry despot, but merely a vain, self-serving fool who was in the perfect position to drag us all to our doom as part of his folly. I recall not who said it, but I was reminded of an old quote about how idiocy is often a far greater threat than malice.
Swift Blade was in the midst of congratulating himself for finding the materials for replacement siege engines when one of the warlocks interrupted him. I had a passing acquaintance with the one speaking, who had rather pretentiously renamed himself Moonwatch the Allegiant. Or at least I presumed ‘twas a renaming; I suppose he might just have had parents with very strange ideas regarding appropriate names.
Moonwatch rose from his seat, adjusting his purple robes decorated with a large crescent moon o’er his chest and stars sprinkled about the rest of it. ‘Tween that and his long, elaborately coiffed silver mane he looked completely out of place within a war camp, though judging by the manner in which he carried himself, he clearly believed himself quite fetching. He turned to Mother, bowing so low that his horn scraped against the table. “Honored Avatar of the most munificent and magnificently majestic monarch of the moon, I magnanimously beg your permission to ask of you a question.”
Mother regarded him coolly, seeming neither impressed nor offended by his pitiable display of bowing and scraping. “Thou canst ask, faithful servant.”
Moonwatch continued, his words oozing a sort of oily obsequiousness that left me sorely tempted to empty the contents of my stomach. “Honored Avatar, surely there is no need to build siege engines when all in attendance here know that ‘twould take only the slightest effort on your part to shatter the Sun Tyrant’s defenses and reclaim your rightful throne. Surely it is time we showed the foolish supporters of Celestia the Usurper that they cannot hope to stand against the might of the true queen of Equestria!”
Swift’s toadies were quick to meet Moonwatch’s o’erripe declaration with approving murmurs, no doubt hoping that doing so would help them curry favor with Mother. In the past she would have been disgusted by such behavior, but now my mother accepted their foolish praise and adulations with a faint, all-knowing smile.
Thankfully, not all within the room were so foolish. Ephor Striker painfully drew himself up in his seat and provided the answer to Moonwatch’s question. “Celestia.”
“What of the Sun Tyrant?” the warlock demanded. “She already fears to take the battlefield against our noble forces without the Avatar at our side!”
At this, I exceeded my capacity to tolerate Moonwatch's staggering idiocy. “It isn’t fear that stays Celestia’s hoof.” I felt all eyes within the war council settle upon me. “I do not know why she refuses to take the battlefield, but I have seen no evidence that she is craven. Have you all forgotten the tales of how she struck down Sombra and Discord, to make no mention of seizing the throne? These are not the actions of someone too cowardly to fight.” I paused, carefully measuring my next words. “If I had to speculate, I would say she is working to further some grand plan to win the war.” I met Mother’s eyes directly. “Whate’er her reasons, I can think of nothing more likely to draw Celestia out of seclusion than for her sister’s avatar to take the field.”
Mother’s eyes held mine own, and her head bowed in a barely perceptible nod. “As mine eldest has said, the usurper will not be able to ignore the challenge of my presence on the field.” It seemed strange to me that in the same breath she would name me as her son and Celestia as her sister. “If I strike now, ‘twill force the confrontation immediately, and ‘tis not yet the proper time for her to die.” A cold smile slowly spread across her face. “Make no mistake, there will be reckoning. I have planned every detail of her downfall, and ere the year ends I will step o’er her corpse to take my rightful throne. Her death shall come at a time and place of my choosing.”
Privately, I wondered if there might be more to the matter than what Mother had revealed. My mother had ne’er been one for the sort of complex, o’erly elaborate plans she spoke of now. ‘Twas not long ere another possibility occurred to me: Mother’s entire body had changed, not to mention her new proficiency with spellcasting. E’en if she had the benefit of all Luna’s knowledge and experience, I do not think Mother could master all those skills o’ernight. While she would ne’er dare to admit it, especially not before the entire war council, it might well be that she was not yet strong enough to face Celestia in open battle.
I mulled o’er that thought as the war council resumed its meeting. While I had a seat on the council by virtue of my status as captain of the hetairoi , I had little true input regarding the grand strategy of the war. The hetairoi’s place in battle was at the Commander’s side, and thus I had little real control over the forces under my supposed command. Mother would always be o’er my shoulder, ready to either directly counter my commands or simply o’erride them by acting upon her own desires.
I should have attended the details of the meeting more carefully, but little had changed since the last time we had gathered. Back-and-forth skirmishing continued in the Western Tunnels, and our efforts to mine around or undermine the enemy fortifications continued slowly but surely. In truth, I found siege warfare a rather dull affair. It seemed that now ‘twas largely a battle of engineers, with both armies simply standing and waiting until one side gained favorable conditions to strike.
It seemed mine assessment of the campaign was shared by many of our soldiers as well. ‘Tween the lack of activity and the sanitation problems within our camps, discipline was beginning to prove something of a problem. In addition, despite our best efforts to prevent it, the remaining Kickers within our ranks continued to dwindle, and there had been more than twice as many scuffles amongst our own forces this week. Our army was restless and unhappy.
“Perhaps we should rotate more of our forces out of the siege lines?” I suggested. “A chance to see the open sky and take action against the enemy would help a great deal.”
“We cannot strip away too many of our soldiers from the front line,” Swift Blade argued, likely because he disliked any proposal I made on principle. “It may well be that the Sun Tyrant’s forces are hoping for exactly that. If we send half our army on vacation, ‘twould be an excellent opportunity to launch a counterattack.”
“And if we do nothing, the situation will continue to grow worse.” I waved towards one of the thin rivers of excrement flowing through our camp. “If we are lucky, morale will simply continue to decrease. If we are unlucky, a plague will sweep the camp and we might well lose our entire army.”
I received help from a most unexpected and unwelcome corner as the warlock Hidden Facts cleared his throat. “I could easily provide illusions to cover for the absence in our ranks. Captain Dusk is right; our soldiers need fresh air and a chance to apply themselves. Swift’s siege engines will be here shortly enough. We can allow our forces a respite until then.”
Much as I disliked the warlock, I was in no position to refuse any aid. Though mayhaps that was how Swift himself had fallen from grace. Regardless, I had a duty to serve Pegasopolis and Equestria, e’en if they seemed to have lost it themselves. “As Hidden Facts said, there are ways we can conceal the thinning of our line. And I would sooner have our line temporarily weakened while we refresh our soldiers and mayhaps cleanse our camps than have it permanently weakened by collapsing morale or an outbreak of dysentery.”
“Well reasoned,” Mother agreed. “See it done.” She began to call the meeting to an end, but ere she had finished the formal closing she paused, a scowl steadily growing across her face. “Neigh.” she hissed under her breath. “‘Tis impossible. I slew her myself. I saw the last breath leave her lips. Once I gained my new powers I ensured that the thread of her life had ended.”
All within the tent, pegasus, earth pony, and unicorn alike stared at my mother, trying to make sense of her words. She muttered several things under her breath, then abruptly reared up and slammed her forehooves down upon the council table. Her blow snapped the table cleanly down the middle despite the fact that it was made of three-inch-thick oak. “How?! ” she demanded of nobody in particular. “How can it be that Shadow Kicker lives?!”
Author's Note
As always, thanks to the many awesome member of my pre-reading team for smoothing out the wrinkles in this chapter and catching my numerous spelling and grammatical flubs.
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