The Writer And Their Quill
Chapter 3: Earth to Body
I can’t sleep.
How can I sleep?
My friend is sitting a metre or two away, sleeping away her final hours, and there is nothing I can do about it. Nothing.
What use is this gift of immortality if I can only be a statue to those around me? I can speak to them, I can feel them, but I’m an alien among them. I see the world through my own window.
Through my window, the world is old, changing and so full of death. Those who I used to confide in have long since passed, and their names and titles would fall on the ears of youth without recognition. I’ve talked to the dead of this age, and it seems like their memories are still so fresh on my mind.
I let out a sigh which I hoped she wouldn’t hear. I leant over toward her on the edge of my chair. I peered over the top of the pile of books. She was asleep. The quilt cover was over her shoulder and her head lay deep into a dusty-paged book. Her gentle breathing sounded so nice, I thought.
I sat back into my chair and pressed my hooves on either side of my head.
I can’t even tell her. She will never know. I know she will die, and I’m still powerless to stop it. My thoughts are circling, I need options. Could I stop her death? Could I keep her in my palace, refuse her requests to leave my safeguarding in these secure stone walls?
Could I be forgiven if I changed the course of a life? I don’t know. We were told to never touch what we couldn’t control, never to stare when we couldn’t see, and never to rewrite what is already written. Is her death written, or am I the writer? Surely I can control some aspects. What use is a power of seeing life if I am to not preserve it?
A knock at the door drew my thoughts blank. I raised my head to check that Twilight hadn’t woken, and then back to the door. My sister leaned upon the door frame. A look of concern was badly contained in her face. She had the same signs when she was young, and she could never change her propensity. Emotion was a part of us which she held more strongly than me.
She gave a quick flick of her head outside. I knew what she wanted to talk about. I rose from my wooden stool and went outside. Before leaving, I glanced back toward Twilight, just to make sure she hadn’t stirred, and then I left the room.
I glanced down the short corridor of my tower. A dim, orange glow seeped out from the room beside mine. A shadow moved across the light.
I walked toward it and glanced in. The strong, sweet aroma of cocoa caught my attention first. Two cups were stationed upon a glass-topped table in the centre beside two embroidered chairs. I looked up to the first chair where Luna sat with her eyes averted, as she glanced around the book pile beside her.
She looked back to me and smiled. “Sit,” she said quietly. She gave a gesture to the second embroidered chair. I smiled back faintly and went toward the chair, picking up the cocoa as I went.
As I sat, Luna also picked up her mug. She took a small sip and placed it back to the table. I counted the marshmallows in the top, and then took a drink also. Three marshmallows, one more than my usual amount.
“I figured you could use with one more,” she said after I placed down my drink. I smiled.
“You know what I want to talk about.”
I sat back into my chair. “I would love to believe there was an easy solution,” I said. I retraced my thoughts from earlier. “Could I prevent her from leaving tomorrow?” I asked. I looked up to Luna’s face, and it wasn’t forgiving.
“No,” she said. She crossed her hooves. “You surely remember what we were told? Never rewrite what is written.”
I ground my teeth. “You surely don’t believe the words of an ancient time are enough to stop me saving my friend.”
“It’s not your life to save.”
“So what, let her die?” I said absent of tone.
Luna didn’t answer, she just stared at me. I knew what I had to do and she knew I would do what was right. I sighed and gripped the edges of the chair. “I shouldn’t change what is meant to be, but why does it have to be?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why does another friend of mine have to perish? Why am I always so very powerless…so weak?” I dropped my head into my hooves and rubbed my temples. I could feel a headache brewing.
“You’re not weak, Celestia,” said Luna at last. Her voice was worried, yet respectful. I admired her for it. She was as grateful to Twilight for freeing her from Nightmare Moon, although this decision seemed easier for her to make than myself.
“Then how can I never do what is right, what is needed of me?” I asked, still with my eyes closed.
“Because you care. Be grateful for that, it is something of you I admire.” I raised my head and stared at her.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
She leaned forward. “You always seek others Celestia,” she said carefully picking her words. “After one thousand years, you always go forward to make a friend of a student and of those around you. In the end, their deaths crush you, and you repeat the process. I would have given up long before you.”
“So you’re saying I shouldn’t make friends?” I asked, insulted.
“No, no, that’s not what I’m saying.” She took a breath to collect her thoughts. “After one thousand years, even though you know the risk when you invest your friendship in them, you do it anyway. And when they end up standing on Death’s door, you still feel it as strongly as this. I admire you for that. You never gave up.”
I sat back in my chair. Her words floated and wandered in my mind.
“I would aspire to be like you. Even after that long, you still take it so hard; you care more than any other pony we will ever meet.”
I looked back up to her and smile. “Thank you,” I said, “I needed that.” As much as it did make me feel better, it gave me more to think about.
She nodded graciously and picked up her cocoa.
I stood and left quickly. I needed to be alone with my own thoughts. In my own reveries where my world was that little bit easier, that little bit less corrupt. I went back into my room and lay down on my bed.
I routinely removed my crown and switched off the bedside light. I let myself relax for the first time since finding out about the fate which was yet to come.