//------------------------------//
// 3. The Sun Sets 
// Story: Secret Agent, Codename "Smarty Pants" 
// by heponas 
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Twilight was sprinting through town as fast as her little legs could take her.

She’d never felt so miserable. All the day's events felt like confirmations of things she’d been fearing for a long time. You’re worthless. Celestia wants to get rid of you. You’re a burden. All you can do is make everything worse. The bad thoughts she’d fled from for so long were now consuming her, and all that pushed her forward was the desperate hope that her mentor was okay.

As her thoughts turned darker, so did the words of the plushy tied to her back. “She’s probably already dead.” Came Con Mane’s twisted voice from Smarty Pants. At least, it was almost his voice, but seemed lower, more sinister, like some twisted facsimile. “If she’s not, she’ll surely kick you to the curb, after what you’ve done.”

She winced. The thought so distracted her that she almost went sprinting headlong into a food cart. “Shut up! This is all your fault!”

“No, it’s all your fault. You wanted to feel useful, but all you’ve done is proven how useless you really are.”

She clenched her eyes shut. “Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” Her horn glew, and the strings around her shoulders snapped under a sudden force. Smarty Pants was sent flying off of her back, rolling into a heap on the concrete road as Twilight rushed onwards. She could still hear Con Mane’s voice fading steadily into the distance.

By some fortune, instead of smashing through somepony’s roof, Celestia came crashing down upon the bricks in the plaza at the city’s center — the sudden appearance of their battered and beaten ruler coming as some shock to the townsponies who had no idea any sort of battle was going on in the first place. The pegasi squadron quickly followed, barking orders and clearing space for the medics. They had hoped that Galahad would be satisfied with his victory and fly off. They were wrong.

The griffon landed with enough force to shake the earth around him, knocking a few ponies off balance. Fear flashed in the guardsponies eyes for just a moment… but to Galahad’s surprise, they stood their ground, determination on their faces as they placed themselves firmly between him and Celestia. They knew that a small squad of a half dozen scrawny ponies were doomed in a fight with a griffon of this size, but they faced that doom with bravery. Luckily for them, the griffon preferred to avoid unnecessary bloodshed. “Step aside,” he demanded, waving a hand. “This is between me and her.”

He puffed out his chest and emphasized his posture, veiling the ponies in his shadow, trying to intimidate them. None of them so much as flinched. He’d really expected these soft little equines to be more cowardly. “Please! Stay away!” A desperate voice rang out from the crowd, and a dozen ponies voiced their agreement.

Galahad sighed. The fools. This was their only opportunity to avoid a war — so long as Galahad could finish off his would-be assassin, he’d have no trouble leaving the rest of Equestria alone. “Come, now. I don’t want to feud with you ponies. I’m sure none of you innocent little things had any idea of your treacherous queen’s plot to murder me,” he said. “But I’ve dealt with assassins like her dozens of times. Let her serve as an example to the others. There’s no need for innocent lives to be lost along with her.”

Among griffons, strength came from the individual. Among ponies, it came from the herd. They relied on eachother for safety, for comfort, for support. So, to Galahad’s surprise, just as it seemed like the pegasi squadron’s confidence was beginning to waver, a random stallion from the crowd stepped forward and joined them. “If you want to hurt the Princess, then,” he shouted. “you’ll have to go through me, first!” He was clearly terrified, his hooves shaking and eyes wide, but he put his life on the line anyway. 

The stallion’s courage inspired the crowd. Soon, another pony stepped forward to join him. “And me!” This set off a conga line of agreement, with the entire crowd of ponies rushing to join the guards, standing in Celestia’s defense even if it meant certain death. “And me!” “And me!” “Me, too!” Soon, he was faced by a crowd of dozens of ponies all facing him down, their expressions terrified but determined.

Galahad didn’t know what to make of it. “You’d really lay down your lives just to protect her, of all ponies?” He spat, pointing to the injured alicorn. “She’s a tyrant. She treats you like sheep, brainwashed and complacent under her control.”

A mare in the crowd stepped forward, unable to just stand there and listen to his slander. “She’s not a tyrant! She’s the kindest pony I’ve ever met!” She shouted. “When I was a foal, she noticed all the plants in my garden just kept dying. And despite how super busy she was, she spent a whole afternoon teaching me how to raise them right. And look at me now!” She gestured to her flanks, where the emblem of a cornucopia of fruits and vegetables could be seen.

Once more, this seemed to inspire another wave of townsponies to all shout out what made Celestia so special to them, with such fervor that it strained Gallahad’s ears. “Yeah! Best pony I’ve met, too!” A stallion called out amidst the cacophony. “Our charity fer helpin’ homeless foals was in bad sorts when, all of a sudden, somepony made the most generous donation I’d ever seen - but I’d no idea who! Took real sleuthing to find out Celestia herself had a staffer lodge her donation on her behalf anonymously - she just wanted to help, didn’t want nothin’ in return, not even recognition. Now, does that sound like a tyrant to you?”

Even a bedraggled mare, the type normally paralyzed by social anxiety, was so emboldened by the crowd that she stepped forward to speak. “Me too,” she spoke softly. “When I was in a bad place, she heard me sitting on my balcony, crying. She flew right up just to give me somepony to talk to. She didn’t even know me, but she spent the whole night with me, just to help me when I needed it. She… she saved my life.”

Finally, Twilight made it to the plaza, the little filly bursting through the crowd to stand up to the hulking griffon, looking him right in the eye. “And she’s the best teacher ever! She’s so kind, so patient. She gave up everything just to help ponies. She’s… she’s my best friend!” She shouted, tears on her cheeks. “So you can’t hurt her, mister griffon! You just can’t! She’s all we have!” The rest of the crowd all shouted and whistled in solidarity. Celestia was more than just a figurehead to them. All of their hopes, their dreams, their accomplishments, their memories of triumph and healing — it all laid within that wounded mare lying before him.

Galahad was stunned. It wasn’t their sob stories that touched him — he really didn't care, and besides, he could barely understand them with everyone speaking at once. It was the realization that their defense of Celestia was genuinely selfless; they truly cared. Back in Griffonstone, this would be unthinkable. If a monarch couldn’t protect himself, it was believed that he deserved what was coming to him. If Galahad were in the same position, not even his most loyal subjects would be willing to face certain doom just to protect him. In fact, they’d probably just crack jokes about his death. He remembered what Celestia said earlier, about safety only being obtainable through the respect and adoration of one’s subjects. At the time, he’d assumed she was unbearably naïve… but now, he was feeling like a fool.

For the first time, doubt crept onto his face, his will faltering. But he steeled himself. His rage had subsided by now, but he still knew, rationally, that Celestia had committed a crime that could not go unpunished. “Touching as that all may be,” he asserted, “she’s not as kind as you imagine. The fact remains that she tried to poison me.”

Nopony quite knew what to say to that — except Twilight. She knew full well, but she was so clogged with tears that she felt like she was choking. She tried to speak up a few times, but the words kept dying on her lips, until at last she could force them out. “No, she didn’t. That was… that was me. I thought you were going to hurt her, so I… I just wanted to…” She closed her eyes and shouted. “If you’re gonna… k-kill anypony… it should be me! This is all my fault!”

Twilight tensed and waited for the end. The end never came. At first, the griffon looked over her incredulously, certain it was just another tale made up to defend their princess. But she was acting with a level of sincerity no foal her age could ever fake. His will was strong, his mind rebelled stubbornly against this new information… but deep down, he couldn’t find a way to dispute it. It all made so much sense. The crowd watched in horror, expecting him to strike the filly down, but instead… he began to laugh.

The crowd watched on, baffled, as Galahad once more reverted to his hearty laughter. He sat himself on a nearby bench, burying his face in his talons. “A foal? Made a fool of… by a foal? All this over such a simple thing?” 

The entire situation felt to a grand cosmic joke, like the fates themselves conspired to teach the stubborn old king a lesson, like something out of an old Griffonese parable. “Oh, you ponies. You never fail to make me laugh.”

The crowd watched uncomfortably as he laughed and laughed. They weren’t sure whether to be relieved, or more worried than ever. “So,” Twilight eventually worked up the courage to ask, her frightened voice almost too quiet to be heard. “…does that mean you’re not gonna hurt the princess?”

He'd read enough fairy tales. He knew where this parable was leading. The hot-headed king tricked into slaying the sun herself and plunging the word into turmoil, doomed to be forever remembered by history for his utter buffoonery. Well, that was not a fable he wanted to play a part in. He exhaled deeply, an amused smile on his face as he gazed over the sleeping alicorn. “Question now’s whether she’ll hurt me. I’m sure she knows a thousand tricks that can unmake me the moment she wakes up,” he said, standing from his perch. “All things considered… it’d probably be wisest to take my leave.”

The crowd visibly relaxed in a single moment, letting out a symphony of chuckles and sighs of reliefs as the townsponies realized they were all going to live another day. It was almost surreal, seeing him so calm after witnessing his fury just minutes ago, but griffon psychology had always been inscrutable to ponies. Twilight stepped forward again. “Are you still gonna… um… do a war on us?”

She flinched as he turned and grabbed her by the shoulder — but to her surprise, he had a smile on his face. “Naw. You know, I misjudged you ponies. You’re all a far tougher bunch than I’d ever imagined you’d be. And certainly full of surprises, too.” He poked her in the chest with a talon. “Especially you. Seeing the way she coddled you, I had assumed you’d be a prissy, sheltered little brat. But poisoning me, of all people? That’s ballsy. Even I wouldn’t have dared try something like that when I was your age. Keep that fire in your belly, kid, and you’ll go far.”

He gave her one last pat on the side, and with that, he was off, soon only a tiny black speck against the big, blue sky.


— — — — —


Later that evening, Celestia sat in bed sipping tea with a light smile, watching the sun set in the far distance. Even she, at times, was still impressed by its beauty.

The base of her horn was wrapped in a cast, enchanted to suppress her magical abilities so she doesn’t accidentally cast a spell and end up exacerbating the damage. Every so often, her horn would ache when she moved her head in the wrong way, like a sharp pin thrust into the very top of her skull, but it was overall manageable. While she healed, the Royal Magus Assembly of Unicorns would take over raising the sun and moon in her stead. She appreciated the vacation.

Behind her, her secretary poured over documents and agreements provided to her by griffon dignitaries soon after Galahad left. “I can’t believe how good these proposals are,” she reiterated, baffled. “Relaxed conditions on immigration from Equestria and certain import tariffs, expressed interest in becoming a member state of the Pax Equestriana Trade Organization. Hay, he’s even covering your medical bills. How did you ever pull that off? You parted on rather… unpleasant terms.”

“Oh, I can’t take the credit for it this time. It seemed to have been my lovely subjects who finally tipped the scales… not to mention my faithful student,” Celestia replied, taking another relaxed sip. In truth, she didn’t care about any of it. Griffonstone was, economically, a trifling ant compared to Equestria, but she still considered the redoubled interest in cooperation a nice gesture. “Strange as it may sound, I doubt we’d have gotten nearly this sort of deal had things not gone just the way they had.”

Her secretary sighed. “I suppose so. It set a terrible precedent, though, having him stroll in here and batter our princess. Shall we consider some sort of sanction? Call for him to stand trial, or be deposed?”

Celestia waved a hoof dismissively. “It’d be wiser to forgive and forget. Griffonstone doesn’t need to be destabilized any more than it already is, given the constant power vacuums. I get the feeling that his reign will last far longer than his predecessors. With any luck, he may be a force of stability,” she said. “Besides, in all fairness, I shoulder some of the blame here. I could’ve made it a little clearer that I wasn’t chasing him down to, you know, murder him. A miscalculation on my part, I confess.”

“Well, he could’ve sent an apology note or something, at least.”

Celestia shrugged. “I’m sure these generous terms are, partially, his form of apologizing. Some people simply prefer action over sentiment.” Her body was still sore all over from the battering she endured, but she almost took a weird pride in it. All’s well that ends well, after all — and she hoped, ideally, that the stubborn griffon had learned a valuable lesson during his stay in Equestria. Once she’d finally finished her tea, she slid out of bed. “Well, I’m feeling more than well enough to get around on my own again. I really should find Twilight.”

After the incident earlier today, Twilight’s was sent to the castle’s trauma counselor, but from what Celestia’s heard, this hasn’t helped terribly much. This was going to need a personal touch. She made her way to Twilight’s bedroom, peeking cautiously into the darkness within. “Twilight?” She called, flicking on the light.

Their eyes met simultaneously, and Twilight’s expression morphed into one of terror. The miserable-looking filly rushed to bow before the princess. “I just want to say… I’m so, so sorry!” She whimpered, her voice choking. It sounded like a line she’d been rehearsing, but she still tripped over her words. “I really messed everything all up. If you want to get rid of me… I understand.”

Just the sight pained Celestia’s heart. She leaned down, nuzzling the filly’s snout soothingly. “It is I who should be apologizing, Twilight. In a moment of anger, I said something that no foal should ever have to hear. It was inexcusable of me, and I’m dearly sorry,” she confessed. “I will never ‘get rid of’ you, Twilight. Everypony makes mistakes. But you will always be my faithful student, no matter what, okay? You don’t ever have to worry.”

Twilight blinked, as if in shock. “So… you’re not mad at me?”

Celestia raised her head, a warm, maternal little smile on her face. “For poisoning a foreign leader? Well, you’re still going to be grounded for a long, long time, alongside a hearty helping of community service. Of that, I can assure you. But no, I am not angry at you,” she replied. “But there is one thing I’m still wondering. What got you so preoccupied with those Con Mane novels, anyways?”

Twilight stared down at the floor, not daring to meet her gaze. “Because… you’re in them.” Celestia had to pause and consider this. I am? Con Mane was all about serving the Equestrian government, so she supposed it made sense. “Con Mane always impresses you in every book. He always makes you super happy. He saves you. He’s… useful.”

Celestia sighed as she realized what the filly didn’t have the words to say. She felt like a burden. “Oh, Twilight. You don’t have to try to be ‘useful’ to me,” she reassured her, gently lifting her chin with a hoof so she could look her in the eyes. “You know, nopony will ever believe this, but I’m not quite the morning pony everybody thinks I am. I get tired, too, and it starts making me wonder why I work myself so hard, day after day. But then I see that smiling face of yours, and it wakes me right up again. It reminds me of why I do all this in the first place. Playing games, teaching you, watching you learn and grow… it makes me truly happy, every day. You’ve helped me more than you’ll ever know, Twilight, just by being yourself.”

She looked up at her, her eyes wide, with the same sense of awe someone would feel first seeing the view from the summit of Mount Everhoof. She was still as a statue for a moment… before leaping forward, wrapping her little hooves as far around Celestia’s neck as she could reach, cuddling against her chest in a powerful hug! Celestia giggled. “Aaww. There, there, my faithful student. I shall always be here for you.” She walked the two of them over to Twilight’s bed, settling down upon the comfortable mattress while the filly wet her chest fluff with her tears. “There you go. Let it all out.”

“Why are… you being so… nice to me?” Twilight managed to choke out between her shuddering breaths as she cried. “I don’t… deserve it.”

Celestia rubbed over her back with her hoof, hugging her close. “You deserve the world, Twilight. You’re not only my student, but my friend, and I just know you’ll go on to do great things one day. You’ll make me so proud,” she spoke sincerely, “but until that day comes, your only job is to relax and enjoy your foalhood. You only get one, you know.” She cradled her, rocking her gently back and forth in her hooves until the filly had calmed down at last, wiping the tears from her eyes. “Speaking of which… while you’re grounded, you’re going to need something to read, right?”

“Wha?” Twilight looked surprised she’d even mention it. “I never want to touch another book again…”

Celestia raised a brow, a big grin on her face. “Are you sure about that?” She asked. “Because all it will take is a few strings pulled to get you a manuscript of the draft for the next entry in that little Con Mane series…”

Once again, Twilight looked up at her, jaw dropping, bug-eyed, trying to discern whether she was serious or not. “R-r-really!?” She gasped. “I mean… after everything that happened…?” Twilight’s concern was understandable, but in Celestia’s eyes, the books had never been the problem. In retrospect, she’d been gradually growing distant from the filly in recent months, almost neglectful at times. If she took anything away from this, it was that she couldn’t let work come before those whom she cares about.

“Sure, things did go a little overboard. Though that’s probably more due to poor supervision on my part,” she confessed. “but up until then, it made you so happy. And seeing you happy always makes me feel the same way. You should never feel ashamed of the things you enjoy. All you have to do is promise me you’ll never skip out on sleep again, okay? Sleep is very important. Without it, you start believing strange things — even hearing things.”

Twilight started hopping up and down in a way that made Celestia’s heart swell. “I promise! I promise!” She bounded forward again with excitement, once more wrapping her hooves tightly around the alicorn’s neck. “Oh, thank you, Celestia! You are the nicest pony ever, ever, ever!”

Celestia smiled, closing her eyes and savoring the moment. This was the sort of thing she lived for.“Oh, yes. I almost forgot. A guardsman found a little something while cleaning up the scene downtown.” Celestia left for a moment, before turning with that familiar grey doll clutched by the scruff with her teeth. The sight of Smarty Pants made Twilight’s heart leap, but luckily, it looked like his suit had disappeared, and she didn’t hear any hint of that terrible voice. Lacking her telekinesis, Celestia clumsily used her hooves to make the doll give a royal salute. “Agent Smarty Pants, ready for duty! Current mission: cozy bed time!”

Instead of laughing, Twilight shook her head. “No. I don’t think he’s gotta be Agent Smarty Pants anymore. Just good old… regular Smarty Pants…” She was cut off by another yawn, this time causing her head to tilt to the side, like there was an immense weight in her skull. She was more exhausted than she’d ever been, and she’d burned away the last of her adrenaline reserves. A dragon could be storming down the hallway towards her and Twilight still wouldn’t be physically able to will her body to move. Celestia smiled at this, knowing the poor filly would probably be out cold for the next dozen and a half hours at the very least.

“The point remains that it’s bedtime, my faithful student. Something you’ve been sorely needing,” she said, laying down and allowing Twilight to use her furry side as a pillow, resting Smarty Pants in the filly’s forehooves so she could hug him close.

For the first time in days, Twilight felt like she could truly relax, her eyes sliding gently shut. “Yeah… bedtime…”

She nuzzled her close, quietly humming her favorite old lullaby, the very same tune she used to sing to her little sister some uncountable decades in the past. It was the kind of lullaby mares sung their foals a millennium ago, with lyrics forgotten by all, even her; but it stood the test of time, slow and somber yet somehow deeply comforting in its pain, like some emotion that could never be put to words, only felt through song. The poor filly didn’t last so much as a minute before she was knocked out cold, sleep settling upon her like a warm blanket on a winter's day.

Celestia carefully extricated herself from beneath her, tucking the filly in and planting a motherly kiss on her forehead. “Goodnight, my faithful student,” she whispered, backing towards the door.

She paused to savor the sight of that sweet little smile for just a few seconds longer, before finally flicking off the light.

The princess went to bed alone, beaten and bruised. But she was used to it. Every scheming villain, marauding warlord, malignant force of nature that intruded upon Equestrian soil — she was always their first target. Because she was a symbol. The beating heart of Equestria. The warmth beneath their hooves, the sunlight that illuminated their paths. She soaked up the blows so they wouldn't have to. It is said that, so long as the faith and trust of her people survives, so will she.