Princess Celestia opens her eyes slowly, the clean, bright notes of a trumpet fading as the remnants of her dream dissolve into a sluggish, bleary eyed wakefulness. The faint light of the setting moon, coming through the balcony windows, illuminates her chambers, painting blurred shadows on the walls and picking the furnishings out in soft, silver highlights.
Yawning hugely, she rises, giving her wings and back a stretch, and heads to her bathroom to begin her morning. As she performs her familiar ritual, her sleep fogged mind mulls over the dream, recalling the slowly fading fragments; gentle sunlight splashing across the ceiling, the strong scent of coffee overlaying the downy aroma of pancakes cooking with a barely audible sizzle from downstairs, the faint rhythms of her father’s voice, humming along as his favorite album plays softly from the living room.
She remembers that particular song, Swing Low Sweet Chariot, its lone trumpet climbing sweetly through the registers during the opening, peaking before the assorted ensemble joins in to begin the song in earnest. As she rinses the last of the toothpaste out of her mouth, she tries to recall what the name of that record had been. Call of the East? Our Man Down South? No, the title definitely had the word ‘Horn’ in it somewhere.
Stepping back into her chambers, she casts a glance at the barrel clock adorning the mantel above the fireplace, confirming the time. Smiling in satisfaction - after so long she has her morning routine down to a science - she moves towards the balcony. It’s time to start the day.
* * *
“Luna?” Celestia asks, reading over the petition that’s lying next to her breakfast.
“Hmm?” Luna responds distractedly, studying several pages from her own stack of parchments. She’s been putting it off, but now she’s run out of excuses, and has finally had to start going over the changes to the tax code proposed by the Royal Treasury. Taking a bite from her strawberry waffles, she shuffles from one page to the next.
Due to the nature of their celestial duties, and aside from certain functions and holidays, a few hours at breakfast and again at dinner are the only practical times the two sisters can go over matters of state together, handling the various requests, petitions, announcements and pronouncements that might require a joint decision on their part. It also allows the siblings to spend some a rare moment together, sharing the details of their respective shifts, talking over personal matters and enjoying each other’s company in general.
“What was the name of that record dad used to listen to?”
“What record?”
“The one he would play on Saturdays, while he made breakfast.”
Looking up from her papers, Luna’s brow furrows, her face adopting a far away expression. “Louie Armstrong, wasn’t it?”
“That’s who played it, but what was the album?”
“Our Man Down South?” Luna hazards, taking a meditative sip of her tea, a rather delightful breakfast blend with a hint of berry.
“No, it had the word ‘Horn’ in the title of it, I’m sure.” Celestia replies, levitating a quill to scribble her approval across the bottom of a request for a Royal audience. She would really rather have declined the it outright, if only so she didn’t have to listen to the Hoofington Merchant Association’s latest attempt to obtain fee exemptions. Honestly, sometimes it seemed like bits were the only thing some ponies cared about. However, despite knowing that she is ultimately going to deny them their exemption, it’s still their right to have their say. Sighing, she places the parchment off to one side, atop a pile of documents that already bear her signature, before levitating the next one from the stack.
“Satchmo Plays the Horn?” Luna offers, quill marking down notes in the margins of her own paperwork.
Finishing the last of her fruit salad, Celestia begins scanning the new parchment. “Hmm…no, no that’s not it either.”
As breakfast is cleared away, the two sisters continue attending to the never ending paperwork required to run a nation, warm morning sunlight streaming through the tall, arched windows and washing over the table as they pass documents back and forth, quipping over various items and sharing the occasionally laugh.
As the allotted time draws to a close, the two share a brief, tender embrace, before separating to go their respective ways; Celestia to attend to her duties as Ruler of the Day while Luna goes to bed to recover from her duties as Ruler of the Night.
“Are the flowers ready for tomorrow?” Luna asks over her shoulder, beginning to ascend the stairs that lead, eventually, to her chambers.
“Of course, sister. I think these may be the best ones yet.” Celestia responds, gathering up the pile of signed documents to be handed over to the Royal Chamberlin. She hesitates, glancing at her younger sister. “Are you sure you’re alright with bringing Twilight Sparkle along?”
Pausing with her hoof on a riser, Luna looks back at her sibling. “She’s your student, Tia. I know you’re grooming her, and if you think it’s time to let her know about this, then I trust your judgment.”
Celestia looks at her pensively. “It’s just that it’s been so long since we shared this with anypony, do you think…”
“It’ll be fine Tia. You said it yourself, she’s proven that she’s capable, and if she’s to assume a larger role in the grand scheme of things she deserves to know the full history. If you want to do it this way, then it’s alright with me.”
“I know, you’re right Luna. Thank you.” She says, giving her sister an appreciative smile. “Good night, Luna.”
“Good Morning, Tia.” The two share a grin before parting ways for the day.
* * *
Twilight Sparkle wakes with a satisfied stretch, rolling over with a yawn before rising. Ponyville was her home now, but it always felt good to sleep in her old room in Canterlot. Fussing with her mane a little in the oak mirror above the dresser, she turns and trots out to meet with the princesses.
She doesn’t know why her mentor has summoned her, and the sister rulers had been closed mouthed about it after she had arrived by chariot the previous evening, answering her questions over an oddly quiet dinner with a shared look and a stoic “You’ll see tomorrow.” By the time they had retired for the night, Princess Luna to assume her duties and Princess Celestia and Twilight heading for their respective chambers, she had been a slowly boiling kettle of frustrated curiosity.
She hated not knowing something, and while she trusted her teacher implicitly, she was still full of questions; questions that had only multiplied due to the odd summons, and odder behavior of the two rulers.
Well tomorrow was now today, and they had said she would find out. Smiling a little, she picks up the pace, eagerness giving her step an extra bounce.
Coming at last to the small dining room the Princesses like to use, she pauses at the portal, the tall, intricately carved doors slightly ajar, allowing the sound of clinking plates and conversation to slip out.
“…be fine, Tia. You know he was never into big, elaborate celebrations. Remember what he used to say? ‘Just keep it simple, girls.” Luna’s melodic voice drifts out, accompanied by the muted gurgle of a filling cup. “Oh, and thanks to you, I’ve had that song stuck in my head all night.”
“Did you remember the name of the record?”
“Not yet. You’re sure it had the word horn in the title?”
It is at this time that Twilight's stomach issues a low rumble, causing the purple unicorn to start a little. Feeling somewhat ashamed for what is essentially eavesdropping, she pushes one of the doors open and steps in. The smells wafting from the laden table are delicious, and she feels her stomach clench a little in anticipation as she gives a bow to the two seated royalty.
“Twilight!” her mentor calls out, giving her that small smile that always brings a warmth to Twilight's chest. “Please, join us. I was beginning to think you planned on sleeping all day.”
Taking a seat, Twilight responds to their questions, telling them that she slept well and that her old quarters were as comfortable as she remembers. She grins as a palace servant deposits a large plate of pancakes and sliced fruits before her. Tucking in, the three chat amicably about current events in both Ponyville and Cantorlot, discussing frivolities and laughing together. The difference between last night’s dinner and this morning’s breakfast is noticeable, and Twilight again wonders what’s going on.
The plates are being cleared away when Twilight notices the twin bouquets of flowers sitting on a small sideboard along one wall. They’re beautiful; roses intermingled with white lilies and sprays of lilac, and little pink blossoms she doesn’t know the name for peaking out. She’s never seen such gorgeous flowers before, each blossom perfect in form and color, each stem straight and richly green. They almost seem like they’re still growing in the white paper they’re wrapped in.
Noticing her gaze, Celestia turns to her sister. “I told you this year’s were the best yet.” She says with a smirk.
“You say that every year.” Luna responds, sticking her tongue out.
Twilight watches the interplay, her curiosity somehow managing to grow even larger. “They’re incredible. What are they for?”
“They’re part of what we wanted to show you, dear. They’re for somepony very special that we want you to meet.” Celestia answers, appreciating the slightly awed tone of her favorite student.
“Who?” Twilight asks, turning to look up at her mentor.
“You’ll see. In fact, we should be getting on our way. We don’t want to be late on his birthday.”
Wearing a look of growing bewilderment, Twilight rises with the two sisters, who gently place the flowers into the small saddle bag that has gone unnoticed on the floor. Donning it, Celestia and Luna make their way out of the dining room and towards the courtyard, a confused Twilight following in their wake.
* * *
The land had changed dramatically during the sister’s long sleep, and while the home place was long gone - the only remnants some petrified logs sticking out of the mulch, within a copse of ash that now cover the spot - the canyon was still there. It, too, had changed; weathering had smoothed out much of the roughness of the granite sides, soft grass replacing the sage and scrub brush, the pinion pines replaced by a forest of oak and maple. Three lone birch trees still stand, tall and white at the canyon’s apex, like pale sentinels.
Other changes have occurred, but these are intentional; a tall, beautifully crafted rock wall crossing the mouth of the canyon, pierced by a wrought iron gate intricately worked in a sun and moon motif, the royal crest of the two sisters, at its center. This is what greets Twilight as the three make their way up a well worn path, the chariot left in a small clearing behind them. As they approach, Celestia looks to Luna, receiving a reassuring nod of her head, and begins to speak.
“I know that you’ve been curious as to why you’re here, Twilight, and I appreciate your patience. You’ve learned a great deal during your time in Ponyville, and though you still have much more to learn and experience, we…I, felt that it is time to teach you where we came from.”
“I know our history, majesty.”
“You know Equestria’s history, I’m sure.”
“Well, since the founding, and the time of tribes.” She pauses, trying to puzzle out her teachers point. “And everyone learns the old foals tales, of when the sun and the moon broke loose of their bindings and wreaked havoc on the old world…” Twilight says, uncertainty causing her to falter. Where was this going?
“I’ve no doubt, dear. But what do you know of the time before that?” Celestia replies, looking over her shoulder.
Coming to the gate, the three stop, and Celestia turns to her most faithful student. Looking down at the confusion and uncertainty writ large on the purple unicorns face, she smiles, feeling a burst of motherly warmth. “Before there was Equestria, before there were ponies and magic, there was the Earth.”
Brow furrowing, Twilight looks at her mentor. “...the Earth?”
“Well, not just the Earth,” the sun goddess shares a chuckle with her sister. “We are not the first civilization to call this world home.” Chuckling more loudly at the shocked expression dawning on her young protege's face, she removes the flowers from her saddlebag with her magic, floating one bouquet to her sister. Turning, the two touch their horns to the gate, and with a flare of magic it swings open gently on silent, well oiled hinges.
Following the princesses in, Twilight looks around, a little feeling of wonder falling over her as her gaze roams. Tall granite sides speckled with green moss throw back small pinpricks of light as they meander towards a point at the far end, fragrant green grass carpeting the ground, running back to some birch trees. The wonder isn’t caused by the scenery, though it is rather beautiful in a rough hewn, natural way. It stems from the feel of the place. It has a welcoming air to it, inviting but at the same time solemn, peaceful, almost like an old temple. Standing a few paces away from the birch is a strange statue.
It seems to depict a tall creature, bipedal, like Spike. Following the two sisters closer, she begins to make it out with greater clarity; The quality of the carving is amazing, the stone worked into almost life like detail. Studying it, she half expects to see the chest rise and fall. She can’t be sure, of course, but the features and stance lead her to guess that the creature is male, and, judging by the wrinkles in the features, on the older side. It’s almost completely covered in what she realizes is clothing, its arms cocked out slightly, the odd, long fingered hands resting on its hips, its legs spread slightly apart, ending in peculiar looking coverings of some sort.
The face is smooth, strangely flat featured, and some sort of short cropped mane grows from the top of its head. Assuming it’s to scale, the creature is quite a bit taller than she is, even discounting the square base it stands on. Glancing over quickly, she estimates it’s almost as tall as Princess Celestia.
It’s the face, however, that truly captures her attention, fine wrinkles lining the eyes and the corners of a warm smile below its small, rounded nose. It almost seems as if the creature depicted is giving her a look of amusement, a wry, good natured expression that’s on the cusp of laughter.
Celestia and Luna stop, looking up at the statue, and Luna tilts her head towards her sister. “Daddy Plays the Horn.”
“Ahh.” Celestia replies, smiling slightly.
“What?” Twilight asks, turning to the two royal sisters. “Your… father played the horn?”
“No,” Luna replies with a chuckle, “He never played any instrument. But he liked to listen to a man who did.”
“A what?”
“A man. A human, to be more precise.” Celestia answers, smiling softly up at the statue. “Daddy was a man. A good man.”
The two sisters gaze lovingly up at the statue, memories flooding their minds, taking them back in time; Daddy singing a nonsense song as they splash happily in the tub, giggling as he rinses them with a pitcher of water. Watching cartoons on a Saturday morning, the scent of pancakes and strong coffee lingering long after the dishes have been cleared away. Playing with their toys as he sits nearby, smoke drifting lazily from the end of his cigarette, watching them as they romp and run in the strong summer sunlight. Camping trips and birthday parties and Christmas presents.
Bedtime stories and movies and football games. The pain, and loss and uncertainty as he tried to comfort them at the end. So many memories, so many events, good times and bad, taking them back. Back to a time when Daddy Played the Horn, and their father loved his Lunabelle and his Tia Marie, and they loved him and nothing else mattered. Nothing else in the whole wide world.
“Happy birthday, Daddy.” The two say softly in unison, eyes shining wetly as they set the bouquets into rounded holders at the statues feet.
Backing up to give the two alicorns some room as they turn around, Twilight gazes from one to the other, surprise and bewilderment painting her features at the display of emotion. The two sisters share a look, and then settle to the ground, Luna motioning for Twilight to join them with a tilt of her head. Opening her saddle bag and reaching inside with her magic, Celestia pulls out an odd looking book. It takes a moment, but Twilight recognizes it as some sort of photo album, its outside yellowed with age and slightly tattered.
“Let me tell you a story, Twilight,” She says, placing the album on the fragrant grass between them. “Long, long ago, before there was Equestria, before there was magic and harmony and ponykind as we know it, there was the Earth. And on the Earth there resided the race of Man, a highly advanced and industrious species, to whom we owe much of our culture, and many of our customs today. Mankind flourished all across the Earth in great numbers, and their achievements were as breathtaking and numerous, and as varied, as their sins.”
Twilight listens, eyes wide and ears forward, and Celestia and Luna share another quiet look. Celestia swallows, and continues, her voice somehow melancholy and warm at the same time. “There was one man in particular, a man named Ryan Williams. Ryan was a good man, who had lost his wife and child.”
“He was lost, and alone.” Luna picks up the telling, her eyes far away. “And one day, while he was visiting this very canyon, he came upon two strange foals in the birch trees, who were also lost and alone, and very scared…”
Looking away from a wide eyed Twilight Sparkle, Celestia opens the photo album. She shares a sad smile with her sister, and then looks back over her shoulder at the statue of her father, before returning her gaze to her favored student. Taking a deep breath,, she begins to tell their tale.