>>112549>>112547Skies looks back, again, silent for a moment. She does not respond - not immediately at least - to Iron's talk of loved ones or of protection. She responds instead to something Iron said many lines ago now.
"You say I have to deal with ponies like you..."
She shakes her head, slowly.
"You must've come from some kind of egalitarian, communalist society or something, so I'll explain it for you. When I was younger, yes. I did have to put up with insults. Many insults. Bitch, loner, weird, slut, weak, mist misser. And a thousand comments on my competency to control weather. On who I ate with at the dining hall or how much or what I ate or refused to eat. On my attitude. On my amiability. On my relations with the opposite sex. On my physical strength. On my general moral character. These came from the fillies and colts who were my peers at school, the neighbors, even ponies of high regard like the town elders and school teachers. My own father. I was even insulted by own brother, whose damaged mind added "cuckoo" to the list. He wouldn't even consider me his full blooded sister.
But no. I did
not have to endure hardship or disrespect from ponies like you. Every pony that dared to call me their inferior in some regard, had a clear and valid claim to be considered my equal, or my superior. They were the fillies and colts who tested in the Trials of the Hurricane. Who proved themselves capable with the spear, able to dive from the Cloud City, spear a ring on the edge of a cliff, skirt along the purely vertical drop of a hundred meters and make a ninety degree turn at the bottom where the rock meets the sea. Sometimes even spear a fish along the way. We could recite poetry from Mareripedes, the philosophy of the Four Causes from Aristrotle's metaphysics, or the four types of love from Hayto's dialogues on Ethics. We were, every single one of us, the proud descendants of the Guardians of the East against the Gryphons, Tyranny, and unrest. We were the the delivers of the rains that irrigated the Riverlands and flowed down past Griffienheim. And we each swore we would uphold the same in our lives, and deliver the same to our own foals. By blood and birthright, and by our own merits, we earned the title and rank of Citizens.
When another pony insulted me, it hurt. Worse perhaps than any Gryphon spear or helot's pitch fork. That was because these were the ponies with whom I trained, played, supped, learned the classics, and shared a collective past and destiny. I knew that if they said it, there was probably at least some grain of truth to it, and I knew that I had more to do if I was going to fulfill my role - my blood bound duty - to become a Guardian of the East. What it was not was a denial of my dignity.
Do you know what happened when a pony who was 19 would dare speak to a significantly older and more experienced member of the Krypteia in the way that you do on a minute by minute basis? I can't say I fully know either, because we understood in our society that you have respect for your elders, and for those more experienced in life. By enduring years of troubles and tribulations they earned respect, and that respect must be given them. And any ponies who would make slights against them, let us say they didn't simply walk away from it unscathed.
All this is assuming that the younger pony and the elder were both Guardians. You -
You - are what would have been in our society a Helot. Uneducated in art, literature or philosophy. Unable to work a spear or fly. Not holding any particular job, and consorting with criminals... What right do you have to insult
anyone? You lack the fortitude, courage, and spirit of Dark Star, or the years of experience and empathy of Silver Sword. Why do you act is if you are better and more important than all of us when you have yet to accomplish anything the world? This is the kind of behavior that if it came from a Pegasus would result in harsh punishment, and I won't even repeat to you what would happen to a helot who tried the same. But let's say at the very least that I never would have to endure such insults from a young colt like you.
And all of this talk about love and protecting what you love? You say all of that with the confidence that - barring a Changeling invasion or some weird circumstances in an uprising, you will be able to return to your little mud hovel in your own village, and your brother and sister will be there waiting for you. You will be able to tell them all that you passed the rites of adulthood, or whatever it is, and that you are once again the big fish you have always presumed you are. You only have to gain what I have to assume is your first romance, and then you have everything.
Do you know what I have to return to? A loving family? A proud boast of having completed the passages of adulthood? A tight community? No. No....
...
...
I can't return to those. Most of the buildings are intact, sure, but the Guardians of the East are irreparably changed. The destiny to which I aspired all my young life is forever lost.
You left your home because... why? They want you to marry outside of the tribe to reduce inbreeding, or something? I was forced out. I was forced out by a few personal misfortunes, and by the work of the Liberals. Ponies like you who place courage, tradition, and erudition beneath naked selfishness and desire for power. Ponies who have no respect, and no understanding of the hierarchy apparent in nature. No concept of beauty or virtue. I have already lost my love. I don't fight to protect anything. I fight to avenge."
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