> Missing Pages & Scrawled Footnotes
>  by Ice Star
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> In History, Maybe [Minific]
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The clouds were in no rush to cloak the mountains, where snow and fog still veiled each summit. A fleck of blue dances among them, a brief flash of color accompanies this and it too is gone, vanishing into the chilly thin air. These mountains had names once. They were taller, their great peaks spearing the sky and towering high above the defiant pegasi who dared to surpass them. The wings of the creatures not fit to attempt to brave the heavens where many said they could truly breathe never reached what was even higher. This is where only the best could soar, right between wherever it was that one's coat began to freeze, becoming streaked with ice crystals and the arias of the wind were replaced by the sparse gasps of one's own breath only for the wails to resume in a heartbeat. Its size rivaled a dozen islands. The mortals of present times could not construct sixteen scale replicas of Manehattan on the largest cloud-state and even come close to capturing half of its surfaces.

Silvers, pinks, grays, oranges, purples, and blues came before white was even thought of. The city roared and rumbled, held together by the work of millions of pegasi and their gods. They laughed at the griffins in the mountain ranges below, whose homes were built upon the rocky veins pulsing with magic. The pegasi may need certain food from below, but to live there? They scoffed at the notion.

It was in times like these that a winged warrior like them could fight seven wars in the sky without ever knowing the feeling of the earth below one's hooves.

The mare who comes here today hardly resembles many of the veterans that lived then. Only her spirit is the same. She has come close enough to the mountains to taste rock in the air. Snow tries to cling to her form, but her speed brings only oblivion to the small flakes. Her coat is not bitten by them, only the wind knows her fur.

The powerful magic of these pegasus ponies of the past was bitter and brutal. Trails of color streaked across the sky and it would be laughable to call them ribbons for there was no delicacy to this ability. Colors whizzed across the sky then, and the ones at the front of such comet-like occurrences transported weather to all the lands as well as clashed in a territory that belonged to none but them. Even the dragons and most of the gods preferred frequenting other areas in the sky. Never did they live there like the pegasi, who had even managed to grow quite a few staples up there in the sky. Such knowledge is lost today.

The pegasi, loud, brash, and loyal were the ones who shepherded the weather on long tours across a level where only they lingered. Those of their kind who wished not to follow the more military life did not have to. Some left for the ground, the more artistic of these warriors tried their hooves at crafting weapons, words, and weather. Others became criminals, battling against their brethren as bandits.

It wasn't a life for everypony, but for those who chose it, nothing could be better.

She flies down among the mountains she saw. This particular range, a blur of silver and white was halved in the fall. The stone beneath her hooves is almost smooth at points, like the shades of an oil painting, with very little texture to be found.

Of course, she won't remember, if any do it all.

A great fire burned, and the city-states were no more, for a Collapse swallowed the Old World. Each column was lost to destruction and every one of the Alicorn gods of the sky wished they fell there with Aerogard, not in the harrowing aftermath. Ponies were lost as well, and those who were left forgot the fire of strange colors that managed to burn the clouds and bring a dead silence to the sky.

As it fell, soaring to the ground below the mountains not broken by the gods' battle, it hit the land where the rainbow mare now stands. It crumbled and sliced, wearing the rocks smooth.

Rainbow Dash is closer to the summit's shadow now, and here she finds a chunk of cloud scarred deathly gray. This rubble is made in the ways of old, which are not even fairy tales to her generation. It was petrified by time and fire. She holds it in her forehoof. A faint pattern is on it and while it faintly reminds her of Cloudsdale she cannot accurately place the pattern. She knows only that this feels like a sculpted cloud even if the method is not known to her.

There are others like it here, buried beneath it all.

They all had names: the ponies, the cities, the tales, the art. Every one of them had a name.

And now they are gone.
> Frozen In Time [Minific]
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

We stood out in the wood's edge and looked out onto the plain. Luna was somewhere behind us. It was still early this morning and there was a light snowfall. Perhaps it was around noon, but both Luna and ourself no longer have a clock now that we left the castle. Breakfast this morning was whatever rations were stored away in our packs.

We push away a lock of pink mane that has been carefully brushed for the new day of traveling. Under our cloak, which has been brought out for the winter, We can sense our feathers. Some of them feel quite cold, but fluffy down and thick fur has kept most of the cold's effects away. As for our mane, We had to bring our brush with us when We were packing with Luna. Even though she never brought hers We sit down with her whenever possible and make sure to remove any knots. 

It has not been too long since the Everfree Forest was really gone. We have passed through a hoofull of others now but none of them are quite as magical. Now the two of us have reached the edge of a plain not too far away from the Everfree Forest. According to our map we looped around the coastal areas when it got too warm. It could be bad for Luna to have her out so much, especially in the heat. We returned inland only to be snowed upon.

At least Luna seems happy. She loves all the seasons, even winter. We suppose this is a good thing since...well we are both going to be outside so much now...until we find them.

We made a promise, too. Promises means We cannot think about how happy something makes us but how happy it will make Luna and if it is good for her. We always liked to help others but now We have to help Luna all the time because We are a big filly and a princess and big fillies take care of their sisters and princesses are always kind and giving, or at least We think princesses should be kind and giving like in the stories We tell Luna. Hopefully there will be enough ideas in our head to keep her happy, for a long time.

We have to be everything to her, like Mommy and Daddy but somehow both of them and her sister too. This way, when we find them We shall show Mommy and Daddy how good We were to Luna and Luna will smile so much and we can all go home once we find them because they promised to come back and they always keep their promises.



...



Mommy had pulled us aside just before her and Daddy go off on that big important errand. Errands are brief, but they kept talking like they'd be gone such a long time.

We think that Daddy would be here too but since he is not it must mean that Luna is still crying. Normally, whenever Luna cries We are always there to make her happy again unless she was being a baby. We are not a baby anymore so We cannot help her with that but maybe Mommy and Daddy should listen to us more because it takes them longer to cheer up Luna. When We get to cheer up she starts to sing, usually her name for us: Tia, and then we go off to play. Nopony else calls us Tia. Not our parents or our cousins, aunts, and uncles. Nopony. Luna does not sing in front of anypony but us either even though she is very good no matter how much We have to look away and tell her she is not that great. 


"Celestia look over here."

We really want to go and help her but Mommy looks so serious and worried. She has the Listen To Me Celestia face on which usually means Mommy thinks that We were being bossy even though We are not bossy. No, no, not at all. Bossy? This filly? We look right at Mommy to prove that We cannot possibly be bossy. Princesses are not bossy.

"Do you know what this trip means for you?"

She sounds really worried. Is it because We were a bit aloof? It is just a trip but Mommy and Daddy are so nervous about this and We cannot imagine why.

"It means We run the kingdom, right Mommy?"

"No Celestia, neither you or your sister are old or educated enough for that."

"Mommy We can read very well, and even though Luna does not know all of the really, really big words she is good at it even if her penmanship leaves much to be desired!"

She gives the Celestia Please Stop Or So Help Us All sigh, or at least that is what Luna calls it because she names everything so we are really just stealing them. No, borrowing. Princesses do not steal.

"That is not what-"

"Mommy what did you mean?" 

"Celestia you have to promise to take care of Luna while we are gone."

"Really, is that all? We can do that! After all it will only be a few cycles as the sun and moon go, right?"

Mommy looks at me but We do not know how to describe this look. Oh, if only Luna were here to do so.

"A few months?"

We receive no answer.



...



We turn around, peering back to look for Luna. She walks behind us, her own cape fluttering about. It is now dotted with the very snowflakes she catches on her tongue.

The snow is wet around our hooves and so soft that we both sink right though.

Her laughter is the only sound that matters.

We silently renew our promise before urging our sister onward.
> Silent Steps [Minific]
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

It doesn't matter what time it is or where she was originally walking to. The rhythm of her hoofsteps stops and is replaced by something else. Cadance can feel it in her heartbeat, it whispers in her ears and drifts in the soft, chilly air that lingers in the castle today.

There is music, the faint echo of a melody she has never heard before. A few notes of a haunting waltz drift by, like a phantom.

She pauses by the staircase, at first the princess is unsure of what she hears. The sound repeats itself and the notes ring in the air. Cadance's eyes grow wide. There isn't any instrument in the castle to play music such as this, which makes the waltz even more mysterious.

The sounds and style do not strike her as something one would find in an Equestrian ballroom. It sounds too pure, to clear like the faint cling of smooth, pristine wine glasses when tapped together and the hum that comes afterward. Even if one grips their glass in magic, the hum is still present.

Her hoof taps on the crystal floor, will the music stop when presented with a sound that seems much more physical? It does not.

Slowly and with caution Cadance begins to descend the staircase. Was this once a ballroom? Before Sombra's reign did the crystal ponies dance among Queen Opal Charm after Crystal Faire? Perhaps there was a special holiday that she would re-discover with a quick peek through the history books that survived.

Cadance's eyes fluttered and she thinks she knows what the beautiful sight would look like. Crystalline subjects would whirl about elegantly, their coats gleaming with the light and love they possessed more than any jewels could. The manes of mares would be swept up in jewels and beads and the castle would be spotless. Tapestries would hang just right, undisturbed by the more conservative atmosphere some Equestrian celebrations lacked. 

Would anypony remember that sort of ball? Not all the archives had survived and after eight years of Sombra's reign and 1,100 sealed within the ice even Cadance was sure her Crystalline subjects could forgot parts of their own history after all that.

The princess strolled off, the music still in her ears. Even if no such celebration existed, she would start one.
> Part Six: Broken Youth [Lost Chapter]
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"R-reason one: I was superior to him from the start, so it makes sense that I'll continue to be..."

I swallowed and my gaze shifted from one star to another, all of them glittering against an indigo sky. I was lucky to get a chance to see them. I took a deep breath, hoping to calm down but it came out shaky.

I was lucky to get a chance to see anything.

"Reason two: I'm not an idiot. Idiots don't survive and I know that I will since I'm smart."

I picked out another star in the sky, faintly twinkling. I was sitting on the balcony overlooking this strange country, all was quiet below only a few flames of green-and-purple to be seen but even they were dwarfed by the moon, even though it was covered by a cloud its glow still managed to escape. 

Half my world is nothing but black and I'm the only one that knows. I can't ever let it slip and I let the paranoia eat at my mind because it's the only thing that keeps me from another smug retort and whatever deplorable way I'd be maimed if Onyx discovers this.

"Reason three: I know that I'll get through this without losing myself..."

I'm stuck here whether I like it or not unable to run from anything and currently being forced into a life I never wanted while a voice in my head tries to rip me apart from the inside out. It only got worse when he forced this glorified circlet upon my head.

Another swallow from me and I flop down on the cold balcony no longer wanting to count stars or add up reasons any more.

All I want is this to end. I want to be alone forever in a half-dark world as long as I know that it's my own, with no voices and where I'll never see a face other then my own and all I'll ever hear is silence instead of screams. I just want to be my bitter sarcastic self where nopony will ever find me and I won't cry any more and there will be nopony ever again.

A few strands of my mane fall in the way of my right eye, concealing it more then I like. It doesn't bother me, not being able to see out of the left one since I barely had use of it for long. I almost forget what it was like to have use of both anyway.

I reach up to move those strands out of my face before catching sight of my hooves.

The armor on them is covered in blood that isn't mine, which is typical. What's less typical is that I know that I wasn't the one who wielded whatever weapon he choose this time. This time, it was him.

I like the sword. Everything's over so easily with a sword, or at least it is when I use one. I'd have liked to have had my own sword in another time, but I can't have anything but myself and whatever pain is alloted to me. Perhaps it's not as bad as what they get. I don't care, both are awful. He's awful. He likes a knife best because of how he can prolong things.

I'm not the evil one. I'm not the good one. I have to burn it all afterwards. I don't leave that much blood afterwards.

I wonder what it's like, not seeing as much blood as I have without developing a hollow-eyed stare. A pony would do that. I've seen it. Blood is everywhere. Ponies are born in blood, which must be revolting and maybe I'd actually pity them if they didn't have knives of their own, all the things they said about me. I don't care about them, but there's something that isn't right here. 

...If for ponies there is lots of blood when a young pony, a foal, is born, does this mean that Onyx is trying to kill me too? Weapons aren't alive, but I'm not a weapon no matter what he says. You don't have to kill a weapon and he's already made it clear that I'm too precious for him to kill, just not in a way I imagine a typical pony would.

My eyes are the color of blood. That's what these crystal ponies say. Well, some of it. Mostly they just scream the most horrible things at me, and I can't quite understand it all. I'm not sorry, but I don't want to do this. I'm not doing anything right but am I doing something so wholly wrong as well? I don't know.

I slam a hoof against the ground and stare up at the darkness. 

I would have built my entire world onto the possibility of never having Onyx inside my head.

...Except that possibility didn't exist.

Without Onyx I wouldn't be here. Although I don't need him, Onyx certainly depends on me. Or rather, he depends on having control over me and my currently miserable existence. My life was only brought about by the twisted fantasy of a child. My existence, however miserable it is, was dependent on something other than whatever it takes to make a pony, or any kind of organic life. I'll have to learn what that is some day, if I'm me. There's bound to be something recorded on such a subject. Onyx knows something that appears to deal with the subject, but his knowledge is never without distortion, just like the rest of his twisted mind.

I'm on the wrong end of a metaphorical sword but he's putting all his energy and idiocy into a war he'll never win. He doesn't know that he's fighting a one-sided battle against an opponent that only ever gets stronger, and even though my magic is not infinite he will never compare to me. His only power lies in the bond of the spell and that twisted Book's seduction of such a bloodthirsty mind, and a stupid one as well.

I wiped the blood onto the scarlet cape I wore. The cape of a king. It's not my cape because I'm not the king. I'm not a royal like the tyrant, King Onyx, as he would have styled himself if there was a shred of honesty to him. I'm certainly something above the common lot though, such rebellious potential lies in myself even though I am bound - partially - to what most would consider higher, at least in the superficial social construct of 'status'. It's such a petty thing, really.

Petty, small. Smaller than a king, held as pettier than the royal family. One whose rebellions, however meaningful, will most likely be small.

A Lord or a Lady. That's what I am. 

Lord Sombra? Lady Sombra? What's the use in having two different titles for something? 'Lord' certainly has a better ring to it, I suppose. I am Lord Sombra. 

I, Lord Sombra,  wonder what it's like outside of this place. All the books I've found so far depict an awfully big world most of which isn't even covered in snow, but with mountains. As much as I like snow that possibility sounds amazing - to have something else out there. There's all sorts of history as well, with images of the gods and goddesses and so much literature I can't make sense of, and many blue prints to memorize, but I have a harder way working my way through those since my current reading ability leaves much to be desired. One day, I'll learn.

One day I'll see all that. I told myself I'd live and I would, perhaps I'd become an adventurer. They aren't bound by anything or anypony.

I, Lord Sombra, vow to escape this meaningless struggle for power, counterproductive competition, and needless material 'gain'  that others have busied themselves with. I will not be drowned in mindless social pursuits or allow myself to die and be a pawn to those who wish to rule. I will act on my longings to leave such a despicable parasitic relationship if I am able to. I will not act on my best behavior for this monster who thinks his desires rule my own.

I will leave everything, and continue discover the world as it is.

For irony's sake, I am the Right-Honourable Lord Sombra. I'm everything that no pony ever wanted, and I won't bow to anypony, any god, or all who think they can order me about. I will be alone, forever.

Everpony's demon will make every rebellion count, they're like stars, nearly infinite and unique. Each star is a reason I'm better than Onyx and each rebellion will only serve to demonstrate this.

Everpony's demon will act upon this vow in any way that proves tactful and beneficial to himself as soon as he removes his forehooves from his face and ceases crying, shaking under the scarlet robes with blood spattered edges that are illuminated by the moon's light.

I'm the Right-Honourable Lord Sombra, and I couldn't give up even if I wanted to, but it doesn't make me any less lost, no matter how many stars I count.
> Equinity [Poems]
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------





Truth





All
is rotting
All 
is crumbling
Do you feel trembling?
All
has fallen
The light is out
The Pariah lives on
as a hanged mare
in the sky





Luna




When you look,
Why do you choose down
upon ponies,
Where you see nothing
but
the dirt where you have fallen?

Yet you have the nerve
to ask,
Why I look above,
Where I can see all,
and be
alone together with the stars.




Celestia





Over and over
a mortal is born
Again and again
a mortal has died
Time after time
(for all of them, such standard response, nearly automatic)
Yet in your name,
how many tears have I dried?
(a single name, stricken from history, a dusty antique of a memory in my heart's attic)





Lies




Composed, she dons her mask
Expendable is her own welfare
Losing a battle within herself
Expectations of any return smashed
Smiling forever after
Trying to fill the emptiness
In denial, as always
Abhorred by her own actions and the truth

Cannot bear to tell any truth
Acknowledge it, even
No longer believes in the Harmony that she preaches

Can't bear to remember any longer
Hollow beneath her eternal costume
Altering conventions little by little, in her forgotten name
Never wanted to hurt her sister so
Grooms each Faithful Student for a single empty purpose
Even though it is only to reassure herself
> Just Weep [Poetry]
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Like clockwork—
awaken,
rise from the dirt, fallen star—
alone in the sky that is your world
except for one
brush the vibrant pink veil aside
so you might see her
lying there,
form softened with slumber
white hooves— caked with the world's broken flesh
hide your coveted status
reel within,
at what you've become, sleeping no longer
in the dirt
reach out for your blue companion
and wake her as well
she is not as scared as you
smile upon her, and bestow this light in the dark that you fear
her face is smudged with the dust that cakes her quilts
little child, as bright and alone as ever,
she reaches into the bags next to her—
pulling a brush from the tattered brown fabric,
buckle dull with mud
you do not tell her your fear
little voices whispering in the depths of you,
you smile shakily, having yet to master
perfect composure
and in the dark you count the strokes the brush makes in pale blue
that always finds a way to shine true
unlike, little child — princess no longer — unlike you
you build your mask with care with whatever you can gather
from the world that you feel is hollow
of all but dirt
your smile is as dazzling as the sun that hides the night that you alone fear
and upon your head, as if marking your troubled mind
is dirt caked in the shape of the sun
little child, unmarked and forsaken
lie no longer to yourself
just weep

> Arachnae's Loom [Unfinished] [Scrapped]
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

There was a single color that defined the world that Aracnae lived in. A gray sky with titanium clouds and silver snow that rained upon a ground where little grew, even when the slush had soaked away. The cold never left this country, so what little crops managed to survive the first wave of snow and ice that caused the few weeks of almost-warmth to submit to winter once again. 

Maybe, if there were proper artists whose works felt as alive as their subjects instead of being as flat as their eyes that barely saw what was in front of them, the gray could be nice. Arachnae wasn't a pony who thought this. She was exchanging one manor for another. While this one was bound to have the same gray world surrounding it, and portraits coated with fine layers of ash, it could have other things as well. 

It could.

There will be a castle of stone, also gray, to crouch over them all.

It might.

Her mother said there would be better tailors in the capital. Arachnae said some things is response.

It must.

Father had almost disinherited her for those things.

It will.

This arrangement had been set up and it was final, after all. She would leave the dreary manor in the country where she was born


[THE LAST LINE WAS UNFINISHED]

> Stay Golden [Unfinished] [Scrapped]
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Marigold Blueblood was a name that nopony wanted to remember, especially the House of Blueblood themselves. On their neat and prim family tree this little flower was nothing but a weed from the start that had cost the brother of the then-current head his place in the household.

But even though Marigold herself was a name that was meant to be forgotten to these uptight nobles for more than just the scandal of her birth, soon Equestria itself would want to curse her name half the time and just beg that she be forgotten the remaining half.

Marigold, like all foals, wasn't born with any proof of what she would grow up to be. Maybe somewhere in her mind was the latent shallowness that had been known to effect some members of the Blueblood house, or it could have been something all her own, which the staunchly moral Bluebloods wished had been the more popular rumor.

Rumors were how all of Canterlot came to know of Marigold Blueblood before she even entered the world and the first rays of light she would ever see touched her wicked eyelids.

The two Blueblood Brothers - as they had been popularly known in their time before the younger's disinheriting. They were two of the stuffiest stallions in the century before the return of Princess Luna at the end of Celestia's Millennium. Palladium was the elder and heir to an ornamental house, only in succession because of an archaic tradition that few bothered to follow. He was average and unremarkable except for the wealth he was surrounded by from the first day of his life. Unlike his younger brother and baby sister, Platinum VII, he was groomed to sit on a large sum of money and whatever gossip passed for politics in the court that only acted as a foil to the crown jewel, Celestia, no matter how much ponies could forget that.

Platinum had yet to grow up and realize that she had been given a gods-awful repeat of a name that only her house would ever praise, as empty as those words would be and about as original as her parent's naming 'sensibilities'.

The middle brother to both, and the younger to the heir Duke Pallas was Rhodium - or Dee for short. If there was anything Dee hated more than anything it was stopping to think about the decisions he made. He was the epitome of recklessness and rash decisions.

How he got through life was a joke among the court and a problem in is family who only hoped that all their efforts would pay off and he'd be responsible and mature at some point with his siblings' help.

With Pallas' help Rhodium was able to convince a sensible and wealthy businessmare to marry him. For Pallas, Platinum, and the rest of the Bluebloods this all they could hope for.

And then Rhodium met Petunia Petals, a young and equally reckless earth pony mare. She was a tourist from the fledgling village of Ponyville. It wasn't long before all of northeast Equestria spat at their names and Rhodium Blueblood was only Rhodium, disgraced unicorn and there was nopony at his side now as news of the first affair in Equestria in centuries.

One year later, Petunia Petal gave birth to a little filly she named Marigold, the false addition of Blueblood hanging after the little filly who was hidden away in the Manehatten streets so nopony would recognize her and her mother, despite the name of 'Blueblood' that followed Marigold. The forest of Equestria was about to meet the blight of the Bluebloods.

But first she had to grow up...
> Before I Sleep [Unfinished] 
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Uh...? What is that sound? Who is there?"

"It is just Us."

"'Us'? It only sounds like there is one of you."

"...Perhaps."

"Why are you at my window?"

"We could explain, if We were given the time."

"Who are you? Are you my friend or are you a monster?"

"We are the friend of none, or so it seems but We are no monster."

"I cannot see you, would you come in?"

"We might."

"Please?"

"Ah, We suppose."

"Why do you talk that way if there is only one of you?"

"Do you wish for Us to enter or not?"

"I do, please."

"Very well, child. We shall enter, but do not expect to see our face."

"Ah! You are so tall! How did you find a cloak so black to hide all of you? All I can see is your horn."

"As We wished."

"Oh...are you shy? Your voice is so powerful, I did not think one with such a powerful voice could be shy."

"You would be surprised then, by all the things you can find in this world."

"Oh. You do not sound like you like the world."

"Eh, it is not a matter We are willing to discuss."

"Are you going to tell me why you are here now? Please?"

"We shall."

"Uh, thank you. Is that the proper response? Is this a test? Why are you in my bedroom?"

"This looks more like a closet. Small and dusty. Do you breathe well in here?"

"It is my bedroom, or at least the one that I was given."

"We see. Now do you wish to know the purpose of Our visit or not?"

"Yes, but maybe we should be quieter?"

"What is your name, young one?"

"My name? It is Frost. Frosty Meadows."

"And this is your home?"

"No, this is a foster home."

"But you live here?"

"Yes."

"How did you come to live in this foster home?"

"My parents died and nopony respectable wanted me. That is what I was told, at least. I do not know what the big word means."

"It does not have the same meaning it used to, she made sure of that."

"Huh?"

"Go on."

"But that is it. There is no reason I am here other than what the Princess' official said."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Princess Celestia, she rules Equestria and smiles a lot. She likes parties and gold. Every filly wishes they could be her."

"Even you?"

"I have never even met her. This is the uncivilized land. That is what the Princess' officals say."

"It is called a frontier."

"Is your tone always as dry as the desert outside?"

"Hmm. We suppose."

"What is a frontier?"

"Where you live. This land of the cacti, sand, and heat."

"The sun beats down on everypony here."

"Yes, she does."

"What?"

"It is nothing you must know. May I continue my tale? Or should I ask why this 'closet' has a window?"

"I did not build this place. I would not know."

"It seems as if we both found another rabbit hole to delve into. Who do you live here with?"

"The stuffy mare and the strict stallion. They tell me to stay in town and make friends."

"And?"

"They tell me to be like other ponies and dress nice. The first one is because the Princess enforces lots and lots of ponies talking and doing the stuff she says."

"Conformity?"

"Something like that, I think."

"Normalcy?"

"Uh, I do not know that one."

"Status quo?"

"That one. I remember that one."

"It certainly sounds like her."

"Do you know the Princess?"

"There are two princesses."

"I was told of Princess Celestia who raises and lowers the sun."

"Only her?"

"Yes."

"Of course you were."

"Is it some kind of joke to forget the other one? Is she even important? It is so hard to get news down here, in the, uh...'frontier' that it either gets lost or is not very important."

"Oh."

"Are you sad?"

"We-"

"If it is a joke, it must be a mean one. I know a lot about mean jokes."

"We are sorry that you do."

"It is because they say I am not a pony when nopony thinks I'm listening."

"Why?"

"Why do you ask if it sounds like you already know?"

"Please tell Us anyway."

"I am part buffalo. Do you see my big, furry legs? I cannot race with anypony around here, even if somepony let me."

"Are you lonely?"

"Uh...yes. Sort of. I just do not want to be around anypony like this any longer, the ones who say I am not a real pony because my magic is not that good and my legs are not thin or because my gray-mulberry coat is ugly. Everypony here is named for something that can be found within a few miles: the plants, the sun, the river, and the clouds. Those are things that the mares and stallions that praise the sun-mare and wear the heavy cloth name their foals. I have never even seen a frost and I do not know what it is either."

"Are you tired?"

"Very."

"Oh!"

"Huh? What is it, Stranger?"

"Your mane - We see it has streaks of white that flow through it, like it was woven in through the gray."

"When I was a filly, I was caught in a storm with my father's tribe - I do not remember him well, or my mother - but there is still their smiles and laughs in my mind, Stranger. My mother was one of the cloth-wearing ponies - you know the ones who wear not just cloaks but ones studded with shining dew and stars."

"Gems?"

"Is that what they are called?"

"Yes."

"All I remember next is that I was here, in town with a pony wearing bright sunlight on his flanks and head telling me it was by the grace of Celestia I was saved and that the goddess must have blessed my name."

"Did you believe him?"

"I do not know what to believe, Stranger."

"And why is that?"

"I do not feel like I know anything. The cloth-clad ponies say one thing, the ponies who are part sunbeam say another, as did my family, I imagine. The fillies and colts here repeat what they are told and believe it wholeheartedly, but when they speak these things, their words are crueler and sharper."

"What do you tell yourself?"

"Nothing at all, Stranger. I am too tired to believe much."

"And what of Us, the stranger. Do you believe anything We say?"

"I think so, yes."

"Would you ever leave all this, if you were given the chance?"

"I do not see any reason to stay..."

"Then follow me."



...



[STORY ENDS HERE]

> Twitch [Original Minific]
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Swallow. Blink.

A deep breathe - the loudest sound she'll make all day. The one that will never be heard. Well, only by her with the midnight coat.

Every day continues. Nothing looks wrong to the average pony - and why would it? They aren't very observant to begin with.

Celestia, with her bright white coat and harsh radiance chatters among them, as if she could lower herself to their level and call herself a pony, no longer content with what she is. She tries to forget and Luna tries to talk.

It's simple, right?

Think of what to say.

Open her mouth.

Speak.

Only it wasn't simple.

Don't talk became can't talk.

Her mind swarmed with details of the everyday, all the little sorrows and joys that bathed in the air around her.

Everything sparkled like glass, so obvious. Unlike her - noticeable. Each day was brighter, each night shunned even more.

Each star a curse.

Mouth open - that was Celestia. Talk, talk, talking. Smiling. Welcoming. Whatever they wanted her to be. She was the sun.
And she burned.

It wasn't that Luna didn't know what to say as hallways passed her eyes and another pony passed her like a ghost, or maybe more like furniture: present but unimportant. What need was there to pay any attention to her?

She knew exactly what she wanted to say. Always, always when she had spoken she had spoken well.

But she knew everything that had to be said.

Each syllable that would sound like thunder to her own ears even if it were but a whisper.

That is what made it difficult.

She could see the road before her.

Going in blind would be far, far easier.

She sits next to Celestia on the forgotten throne. Half the room of stone - sharp angles and dull hues in a neat tomb, imperial beyond beleif, majestic, and properly suffocating - was gold.

Sun-gold.

She blinked in pain.

Yellow flowers knew to keep soft. These banners bled. Her gaze dropped. Every crack on the floor swam in front of her, every speck of dust made itself noticeable.

Luna drew a deep breath just quiet enough not to come across as bored. The noble droned on, ill-chosen words falling from his lips and cluttering the air with their meaninglessness. Each utterance was hollow.

Everypony stood on the side of gold - the only one they could see. They nodded, jewels gaudy. Celestia gave the noble a smile - he must have said something she liked.

Luna's mind dipped beyond noise. Her face a comforting stoic look. 

She was surrounded by ponies. Alone.

Alone was but a different way to spell 'peace' for this dark mare. She shifted quietly in her seat, forehooves quietly in front of her, slouching slightly.

Her mind screamed as she watched the mouth of the noble move. Each of his words was wasted, wasted, wasted...

Celestia complimented his presentation, a mask of seriousness overtaking her pursed-lipped smile before she allowed it to widen again.

Luna wanted to cut the strings her sister has burrowed into herself. Blue eyes went unnoticed as they watched the next noble enter, the cacophony and clinks of ill-spent phrases and practised greetings dropping to the ground before he even entered the room. The walls echo with their worthlessness.

Luna's stare widens. She's completely forgotten now, eyes boring into Celestia.

She does not hide their horror, raw and tearing. Celestia gives a kindly smile, veils of subject-centric thoughts narrowing her vision as she is unaware of her shadow's distress. Misery. Panic.

After all, is it not the princess - pretty, loved, popular, following the cues - to make sacrifices? Luna watches as her sister bravely sacrifices the good of one for the mewling silk-clad idiots' attention before her. One over many - it's the sun's way.

Speak, speak, speak, roars the thunder in her mind. Her vision swims.

Every detail stands out, screaming and bright. The glitter of her sister's crown, the lace of her gown. The Everfree palace sparkles with the recent cleaning it has in honor of the new day.

Slowly, Luna tears her gaze away from her sister.

The far wall becomes her focus.

Her heart is steady - this is everyday - and she tries to only listen to that.

It doesn't work - all the sounds and stray vowels that drift through the air find her ears.

Luna almost blinks, to her it feels like a slow movement but she knows it's far quicker.

A faint tic, a twitch that passes the notice of others.

Not a dream.

She can't tap Celestia to catch her attention.

They had made a silent treaty signed with bitterness, stubborn will, and everything between them. Luna still remembers the sound of the screams in their last fight that tore at the mere scraps their relationship had been in then.

Sisters in name only.

Celestia ruled and Luna...

Luna's jaw twitches.

One minute is over.

Swallow. Blink.

There's still many more to come.




> Favorable Alignment [Deleted Scene] [Fluff] [Omake] [Sombra/Luna]
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Luna let the cards fall from her magic onto the deck. The faint gloss on the surface of each one showing under the starlight.

She looked at me with knowing stubbornness and fake contempt. "You cheated."

"I cheated again," I correct with a knowing smirk before giving her one last look at my winning hoof. How lucky I was - Luna was an eager student when I mentioned that I always kept a pack of playing cards in my pocket dimension.

She sighs and tilts her head up to look at the stars. "You certainly are something, Sombra."

Tch. "I would hope so."

"You're lucky I let you cheat at cards!" Luna says, looking me straight in the eyes, if only to fling some of the scattered cards at me - and I let her. My unmoved expression elicit laughter from her and after sitting there, watching her...I feel a small half-smile form. It feels incredibly awkward at first - smiling of all things - but I manage a wry looking one that manages to work well enough.

Luna looks at me with wide eyes when she catches my expression. A card - an ace of hearts to be exact, plucked from the mess around us - is clutched in her magic, already aimed in my direction. Her focus is devoted entirely to me and I know that there's nothing in my teeth and I'm well aware that I'm not bad-looking but Luna's shocked, obvious stare is so obviously amorous and-

Oh...

"You look-" Luna stops for a moment, taking a deep breath and not noticing that she dropped the card she held, "-truly dashing when you smile like that."

I fling one of the cards floating in front of me at her and she yelps.

"Somepony has certainly taken a liking to me."

Luna looks to the side almost immediately. "I have not! It's just that you're..." Luna bites her lip.

"...so charismatic and stunning and you just brush it off..."

Luna stops herself and looks right back at me again. "Stars. Oh stars, oh stars I've got a schoolfilly's-"

I'd say it's a bit more than that but there's no way I'm interrupting something as entertaining as this.

"You know, Luna, you're free to admit I'm irresistible at any time."

Whoops. Too late.

A card soars by my head as I look on with the utmost amusement.

"Fine! I admit it!"

Well, what can I say? It was worth it.

"Do you also admit to owing me an eight of diamonds, since the one you just threw at me went over the rail?"

Luna shoots me a look of deadpan disapproval and sighs again. "Very well, Sombra. You win this round."

"Actually, I won all five rounds we played, thank you very much."

Our eyes meet and my half-smile has grown into an outrageously cocky grin - and honestly, I think it suits me. She picks up another card and throws it at me and it joins the eight of diamonds on its fall.

"And there goes the three of spades."

Luna sticks her tongue out at me and tosses another card in my direction. She's not even trying to hide that she isn't aiming for me.

I watch another one of my cards fly over the rail. She will be owing me a new deck at this rate, but I'll let her have her fun until then.

"I can't say I'm surprised," I mutter to myself, watching each card sail past me, every one of them wrapped in turquoise light as they began their fall.

> Tasting Power [One Shot]
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The campfire was a problem, probably because it didn't exist as a certain filly wished. Celestia, a young filly with an appearance that was that of a ten year old's and a mane dyed with the light of an aurora so many years ago, looked upon the pile of twigs that huddled a log that was obtained by her younger sister just as the evening sun began to set.

Celestia pursed her lips and stared up at the sickly orange sky; the sun was much farther in its course. The filly cupped her angelic white wings around the unlit fuel, as if she were trying to shelter it.

Her sister was still out searching for the bags she had lost in the snow. Celestia tsked softly, for she knew that 'dropping' the bags that were supposedly lost was just an excuse for Luna to play in the snow that had hit the two wanderers now that they had strayed from the coast.

All the world was still, hundreds of years into their travels and the two little fillies had still not found another equine soul. This greatly bothered Celestia, who missed being surrounded by ponies, but had held her tongue in regards to the subject. Unlike Luna, she didn't like this life of solitude and adventure, but couldn't quite describe her feelings on the subject, which she didn't like to acknowledge. There was no resent for true hatred nor was there enough aching to allow sadness take hold of the filly who always smiled for Luna.

Always.

She shivered as a few flakes of snow fell onto her back, even though they were hardly noticeable, each flake served as a reminder that she wasn't likely to know the comforts of a castle for a long time.

She closed her eyes briefly, exhaling a little harder then she intended, fog forming as she did so. Behind her eyelids she saw the halls as they had left them, the candles they had put out, and the bed she had insisted Luna make. That was their life then, in that castle that belonged to them, the two great shadows of gods that had loomed over them both until one day they had just vanished.

Celestia bit her lip, this was something she rarely thought about, tried not to acknowledge, and never spoke of. This was their life now. No beds, no food that they couldn't cook, no order or routine.

And oh, how cold it could be. If this ever ended, this aimless wandering that Luna loved and the lies Celestia had uttered as she tried to recall every tear in a map that had crumbled away long ago, Celestia knew that she would remember the hated cold she felt. The aching loneliness that only ever effected her.

She'd remember how Luna disregarded their royal heritage, her head having gone without a crown for too long. Celestia wished she had brought hers with her. She wished Luna wouldn't be the scout, the adventurer, the anything but royal filly that she had become and how she insisted that Celestia no longer had to brush her short, coltish mane any more.

How Luna had begun to fly, the happy little bluebird giving no thought to how the nest felt.

Celestia looked back down to the non-existent fire she was sheltering. Somepony would have to cook, and there was no way it would be Luna since she had to go retrieve the bag that held all the food and she couldn't do much more than boil water properly. Celestia shuddered slightly upon recalling Luna's last attempt at cooking something.

She tilted her head up to the sky, her long mane obscuring one magenta colored eye. The thick, multi-colored mass was slightly tangled from when she rose this morning. It was getting colder as well.

Celestia remembered sitting around the large hearth of a castle with Luna ages ago, when the world wasn't so empty. Luna would need a fire to come home to, and she would have to be the one to make that fire.

But she didn't want to, something within herself halted, blocking out the yearning for heat with something else. It was something that left a dry, sour taste in her mouth.

Almost like fear.

Celestia smiles brightly, portrait perfect and gentle, no smile of hers can ever look forced. It can't look truthful. Such was manners. Princesses always had manners and she was a princess.

They were at the age when the should be using their magic  as easily as they blink. But they weren't, at least not quite. Luna couldn't control her magic, there was no order or spells to the way she cast magic. Celestia saw no method that she could discern, only that Luna was a natural while she barely even bothered to light her own horn.

It was Luna who had begun to ask more of her almost absurd questions that came with the imaginative nature of her sister. She had no apprehension, nothing within her mind that whispered no, Luna only had wonder that came from looking at the world in her own way.
Celestia swallowed the lump in her throat. There would be nothing else to create fire with, it had to be her magic.

A golden aura, that barely glitters at all in the white world, makes its way onto her horn. It's calm and much clearer than she remembered. When was the last time she used magic?

Celestia feels something stir within her, embers of a fire that she would rather smother. Her magic burned within herself, searching for something that was more than just a little filly trying to coax color into the glittering gold light that threatened to die with another blow of the wind.

Her wings rose to shield herself from the cold she detested and she began to feel a creeping headache somewhere below the base of her horn. She set her teeth firmly in line to prevent her smile from faltering too much and because princesses don't grit their teeth no matter how alone they feel in a white-washed world with a coat as bleached as her surroundings and only a mane to remind her of how everything used to be and all the little lies that piled up around her...

Piles of fuel.

Celestia nearly yelped and fainted as a burning sensation tore through her, igniting every emotion she never even wanted herself to see.

Resentment. Misery. Something dark beneath that fire that felt like it was burning every feeling away  made it feel like the opposite was happening, that each was becoming worse. Something so dark she could not see through it.

Hollow.

Young Celestia had discovered power, a brief burning glory, a fool's gold like the aura on her horn, which had lashed out to the log in a tendril of flame, so now were the logs were lit.

She had tasted that glory, eyes wide and hungry. Celestia licked her lips slightly, they felt dry but she didn't care. She didn't feel anything but a yawning hollowness for an eternal moment.

There was a second swallow, heavy, scared, and guilty so she could smile once again at the sloppy fire before her. 

She plucked a few burned clumps away from her mane with ease as she composed herself. Little white hooves worked quickly to toss any pastel hair singed gray into the fire, before combing through to make her long, partially wavy mane look as if nothing had happened. Those hooves were quite careful with the lower half of her mane which sparkled and flowed of its own accord.

When that was over with, Celestia sat around the fire, it's golden glow reflecting on the white fur of her chest. 

She resumed her wait, nodding off her sentry's pose only to awake to a familiar voice calling her name. Magenta eyes flutter open to look at a blue filly standing in the white. Her eyes are curious little things with a color somewhere between earth and sky and the fuzzy blue fur of her legs are caked with mud and slush that has begun to freeze. A set of dirty saddle bags are slung across her back quite hastily so her wings are hidden from view. Her bobbed mane has been stirred by the winds so it is no longer neat and spills into her eyes.

Celestia gives her sister one of her constant gentle smiles and her dying coal eyes watch as Luna shoots her a large, fleeting mischievous grin and sits down across from her. 

Soon, a turquoise fire is lit and Celestia watches as Luna levitates frozen frogs that she had safely stowed away from the cold toward the elder, who recoils slightly. Luna laughs and begins to speak, the first exchange between the two in weeks. Celestia nods and smiles to the rare voice of her introverted little sister, but her eyes linger upon the dancing flame and the guttural, hollow hunger that she wishes to disappear behind veils of smoke.

Celestia had never felt colder in her life.
> Crumb-y Day [One Shot] [Fluff]
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Shining Armor hurried down the empty streets of Canterlot. His school saddlebags thumped against his sides and sweat began to bead under his forelock. He had to get home first. His hooves clacked loudly on the stone streets as he galloped at full speed. Heart thumping wildly, he reluctantly slowed down to fix a dangling buckle on his school bag.

Spilled homework would mean he would be delayed and if he was delayed that means disaster would strike.

His little sister would get all the cookies.

Not only would they be scrumptious chocolate chip cookies, but they would be fresh, and that meant gooey moist chips and just the right amount of softness and chewy-ness for the cookie part as well. Aside from that tempting factor, Shining couldn't let himself be bested by an an nine year old.

After turning a few streets he came to a medium sized two-floor house. It wasn't a super extravagant abode like some of the mansions in other sections of Canterlot, but it was home, with its purple curtains, toy filled backyard, and the occasional bookfort. He rummaged through his bag, magically pulled out his copy of the house key, and turned it in the lock.

Once Shining Armor stepped inside he snuck into the kitchen and found the mutilated white remains of an 'Advanced Equestrian Cultures' test scattered about the floor's surface. On the counter was a plate of cookies that remained untouched. Under the plate was a note from their mom, explaining how she and Night Light, Shining Armor and Twilight Sparkle's father, would be home late so she made them extra chocolaty cookies. As long as they were in bed by 9:00pm.

But none of this was important to Shining. Who cares about chocolaty cookies? His sister had gotten home first and was no where to be seen.

His socially awkward, super smart sister. Even more mysterious was: why was there an exam that could only be Twily's laying ripped up on the floor?

Twilight wouldn't rip up a school paper, would she?

He decided to go check upstairs to see what was wrong, but not before he shoved some cookies in his mouth.



...



When he climbed up the stairs Shining found a trail of papers, books, pencils and even a filly sized school bag flung all around the stairwell.
The trail led up to Twily's room, with the door ajar.

"Twily? Are you alright?"

No response.

What if something had-

No, Shining Armor thought. Maybe she is just napping. Or she slipped. I'm going to go in there and see what is wrong. I'm a responsible thirteen year old colt. I know CPR and I can find some of the Princess' guards if something bad really did happen.

He stepped into her room. Everything looked normal. Her bed was made. Her toy chest was open, and her book shelf was empty.

The bookfort reinforced with blankets in the middle of the room, however was...sobbing.

"Twily?"

Silence then a faint:

"B.B.B.F.F?"

Her voice sounded meek and scared and was at the whiny, pitiable stage in the crying process where you just want to burst into tears as well from hearing it and give the sobber more hugs than there are rays on the Princess' sun.

"Twily, are you hurt?"

More sobs.

"...only my pride..."

"Can I come in the fort?" 

"...Okay."

Something was definitely wrong, he thought, she didn't even ask for the password which she normally harasses me for.

Shining Armor crawled inside wiggling around the ballistae, built out of books before magically lifting a blanket fraction of the roof off so he could sit up. This allowed more light to enter the bookfort, revealing a small Twilight with a mussed mane, tear stained face buried in her hooves, and Smarty Pants clutched in her foreleg.

She didn't look up.

Shining gulped. He'd never seen his sister act quite like this before.

"Come on Twily," he prompted, "tell me what's wrong."

"I'm getting sent to a public academy - to magic kindergarten - and I can't be Princess Celestia's student anymore!"

"What?! Who told you this?"

More sobs.

"You know...magic kindergarten isn't so bad...the teachers are really nice and they never have bad juice boxes. Plus, I'm sure you'll still get to eat a ton of graham crackers during snack time." 

Even though she couldn't see him, Shining Armor forced an awkward it-will-be-okay smile.

"Twily, come on you love graham crackers. L-o-v-e them. Remember that story we wrote? Where you married a graham cracker monster? I still have it somewhere in my room. I'll read it to you until you die of laughter."

Twilight buried her head further into her hooves. "If magic kindergarten is so great why are you in military school?" she huffed cynically.

"You know that answer: I want to be a soldier. Now if you tell me what is really wrong I'll...umm..."

"I'll let you dress me up like a princess again and we can play attack on the book fort. I learned more about architecture today so we can give your bookfort buttresses. Won't that be nice?"

"No."

"Oh, come on! Don't be a party-pooper. I'm sure it wasn't that bad. If you help me clean up the stairwell and kitchen we can have a sleep over in my room, I'll let you have the top bunk and you can eat as many cookies as you want even if you become sick, I'll take the blame. I promise. Just please tell me what's wrong."

She muttered something into Smarty Pants.

"Twily, could you speak a little louder?"

"I SAID I GOT A BAD GRADE ON MY SUPER-DUPER HARD TROTTISH LANGUAGE & HISTORY EXAM!!!!" 

"...Twily, I bet it was only a 'C' okay? They aren't too bad I got them when I was your age. It just means you need to study better for next time. One letter won't determine your life."

"It wasn't a 'C'."

She didn't lift her head.

"Is this fuss all over a 'B'? You've gotten plenty of 'B's' before."

"...It was an 'F'. I won't be able to do a make up project, either."

"Now I see why you are so sad. What did Princess Celestia say?"

"She said she'll help me make a study sheet and then we'll make some flash cards just for the basic history stuff."

"Well that isn't too bad," said Shining Armor, laughing lightly, "Although I doubt you'll ever have to go to Trotland."

Twilight Sparkle lifted her head, sat up and clutched Smarty Pants close. Tears were dried on her face.

"Shiny?"

"Yes?"

"Can I have a cookie?"

"Yeah, let me bring the plate up."

He got up and went to the door.

"Shiny?"

Shining Armor paused in the door way and turned around. "What is it?"

"Do I still get to dress you up like a princess?"

He sighed.

"I don't see why not. I did promise you after all."

Twilight stuck her tongue out and smiled. 
> Subconscious Star [One Shot]
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

You have lived for thousands of years and have been through more than anypony could realize. The throne was maintained by you alone for one thousand years. You stopped wondering how you brought yourself through each day after the first two centuries. The words of many a diplomat have been heard by your ears when you sat alone.

Just as there were many diplomats, there were many students to pass under your wing as well. Each started out the same in your eye. They were always obedient little shadows, newly bestowed with the title of Faithful Student as they stood in the silver light of your greatest regret and the sunlight that you bring.

Two graduated successfully, becoming as close as to gods as ponies could be. Others quit, some failed, and others became monsters. Each and every one of them had something in common despite the different paths each was lead on.

They all saw you smile, and what a pretty smile you have, and a truly disarming one at that! Not a single one left your side and hardly any came close to learning what is beneath the serenity you have recovered is this millennium. It was because of these Faithful Students, the private pupils that rose above all the others in the academy you founded, that you were only alone if you stopped to think.

It doesn't matter if the room is crowded or empty, a single stray thought or pause in your performance and you will realize just how alone you feel. You would know exactly why you do not tell anypony if you hadn't denied anything was wrong and sealed away even the mere acknowledgment of your problem.

You have even forgotten what's wrong haven't you? Luna's return is not a guarantee that your behavior will get better, but it is only with your careful and dedicated management that it has improved at all. Surely, you at least know what this problem involves? This isn't a borderline occurrence any more. 

You aren't healthy. You may have defeated many tyrants in an age that has since passed but you are the tyrant of your own mind. You still numb your heart to what has been going on and still you haven't realized that you are the greatest villain that there is.

Tirek stole the magic, but you cripple your own now, when millions of ponies depend on you. Discord overthrew the first nation of Equestria set up by the newly unified tribes but he never wounded anypony as deeply as you wound yourself. 

Only the Crystal Empire's overthrown king is worse than you for he has spilled blood wantonly.

You still think of life in two absolutes even if you have lessened the strict observance of your morals. 

You continue to betray yourself and those you suffer for it. Your kindness, a trait that earned you an Element of Harmony, despite how unreliable yours can be. Your subjects adore their image of an altruistic and peaceful ruler, but you are only the reflection in the mirror.

You're the only thing you have ever run from. Why can't you face yourself? Why seal yourself away? I'm only you.

You listen so much to everypony, but seem quite deaf yourself even though you have to know I'm here to push yourself away. If you keep this up will there be any thing left? Why do you ask questions if you stopped seeking answers? 

Are you lying again? When will you tell the truth? When will you tell anypony? 

You're so sure that you're perfectly fine and that you'll never have another outburst or fight with Luna again like you did a millennium ago.

You've waited and waited and waited, smiling all the while and even though you've tried you have only tried to cover up the problem until there's only your own denial left.

I'm you. I'm the things you'll never know, you'll never say and you'll never realize that you feel. Or, to put it correctly, I used to be you. I was a piece of the puzzle that when correctly built formed you, Celestia. Currently, I am but a buried and broken aspect of you. The small pauses you make in the halls when you catch yourself with a thought that doesn't feel like you, or at least not the you that Celestia wants to be. Now I'm only that, your illusion, your denial, a simple little voice that sprung from the divide you lay within yourself.

You are not a victor; you haven't escaped anything.

It's only missed opportunity to get better, but I think that after all these years you've made it quite clear that none of that matters to you.

So go ahead. Teach more Faithful Students, appreciate the happiness that comes from learning the true nature of your Elements only after Luna was gone and know that I can only get you when you're awake like this. If you want happiness to last this is a botched job.

Break your promises. Avoid honesty. Be as kind to everypony who lives under the rule of Luna and yourself while trying to hold onto your mask for that much longer, just don't forget how cruel this is to yourself. Tell everypony how happy you are and maybe it'll be true when they leave you to pursue their own lives. Go on feeling empty when they grow up and you still refuse to tell a single soul about any of this. You still think there is nothing wrong. You don't know why you can feel so empty at times because you don't want to.

"It's all in my head" has gotten you this far. Ignoring it has gotten you this far. It's also made everything worse.

Just go on distracting yourself since now all this light is only meant to blind yourself and others from the darkness within you. 
> Ambiguity [One Shot] [Scrapped]
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Failure. 

All the one known as RUNA has experienced is up to this point is failure. RUNA is flawed for in the heat of battle it malfunctions and is flung into the trees.

Zap. Poof.

So many trees. RUNA has slumbered in this trees before when all the world was a dream and eyes were but a far-off fantasy as RUNA was bound to a tree whose roots stretched far beneath the broken soil and drinking up fragments of snow.

All RUNA sees are trees pointing high above to clouds that are almost unreachable.

Zap. Poof.

RUNA tries to stand but falls among the shards of blue surrounding, standing out amongst the snow like fragments of a shattered sky.
Flicker. RUNA blinks unwillingly and the world goes dark in a place as distinguishable as a dream as a carrot is from a star.





Flicker.

Bright light shines softly across the woods and into RUNA's eyes.

Flicker. Blink.

Soundlessly RUNA arises and stares at the darkened sky glittering with thousands of small light rippling across the vast expanse, and it knew that it had been left behind by the one it called the Awakener.

RUNA trudges through the snow, magic coursing through a body lacking everything else.

RUNA poked around the ruins of battle - the Spire as it was once called - eyes gleaming and constantly flickering all coming up with the same results: NO ORGANIC LIFE DETECTED.

Its bestowed magics had turned up nothing. RUNA's mission had failed.

It hadn't protected anything. Now RUNA was lost and alone.

A cold wind swept by stirring a few glistening swirls of snow, but it wasn't as if it could be felt. There were no living ponies here, no one to feel its effect.

RUNA's legs buckled and she plopped down into a debris-ridden snowdrift, face devoid of any kind of expression. Its shutter-like eyes even blanker than normal as if it might have vaguely been able to comprehend any sort of emotion beside the bleak oblivion within it, a side effect of not having a soul.

The wind died and the silence was resumed, RUNA's ear pricking.

"This land has no sound," it remarked blankly. "Creator liked sounds."

Once more RUNA's eyes flickered and it sank deep into some half-forgotten incident of the Tree Time when the Voice of The Creator spoke such a thing in a tone that made Her seem so far away...

Without warning RUNA sprang up with an abrupt pop like some kind of mechanized toy. Its blue glow the only true light among the darkness and crystalline reflections of snow. It opened its mouth as wide as any dragon could and like a gramophone and from the echo of a memory poured out, a noise from the Tree Time when all but bark and roots were meaningless.

The sound of wolves.

After a while she buckled down once more and sat in the snowy ditch. Waiting for a Creator who would never come. 

Flicker. Flicker-close.

The sun began to rise, all its warmth shed in vain.





The sun had long since sunk below the horizon and the stars leapt out when RUNA was active again, shining a bit more brightly than before, the snow like beads of sapphire.

It stiffly walked amongst the desolation before it then whirled around in a motion that seemed to fluid for such a thing and walked away heading in a direction unfamiliar to it before stopping quietly.

RUNA feared it would be heard. Then everything would be ruined.

"Creator?" It called, almost sounding unsure behind the monotone.

"Creator!" 

Even the wind refused to cause even a leaf to quiver, had there been any.

"CREATOR!"

Creator wasn't hiding. At least not here. That much was clear.

A construct without their Creator is as empty as a stomach in famine; but RUNA almost believed that it felt something more.

Alone, alone, it was all alone. A single bit of fallen sky amongst what appeared to be infinite white.

RUNA must find Creator. That was the nothing going through its simple head, if anything could.

RUNA stood for a long time just watching its shadow grow and shrink. It knew neither Sun nor Moon, only skyorbs.

And skyorbs would guide RUNA.

It sank into the snow for the last time and began to form what it thought the perfect plan, however incomplete it was.





RUNA  watched as the white orb rose. Today was the day it would leave the crater, the wolves no longer here, and the trees.

Everything it knew would be gone as soon as the mountains in the distance were crossed.

But there were no emotions to tie it here.

There was nothing at all.

RUNA  stepped forward. Its first step on a most important journey, perhaps even an epic odyssey which was a concept unknown to this being to whom the world appeared blank.

It seems proper balance was also an unknown concept as RUNA's first step forward-which appeared as uniform as a soldier's-landed it flat on its face into a pile of unmoved snow that had fallen last night.

This revealed a book. RUNA levitated the volume to meet its eyes, trying to comprehend the object scorched to almost nothing from a recent magic blast.

A  lone piece of parchment fell loose and stuck in the snow, half in and half out of the impression made by this bumbler.

RUNA tossed the burned book away and exchanged it for the latter.

Flicker.

'LIST OF SUPPLIES'

Flicker.

'PROPERTY OF ONYX'

Flicker.

'LIST-FOOD-COMPASS TO HEAD SOUTHEAST'

Flicker.

'KNIVES-CLOAK-HATCHET'

Flicker.

'-EXTRA KNIVES-CLOAK'

Flicker.

'BACKUP KNIVES.'

RUNA didn't find much of anything on that list enlightening at all. That's probably why it burned the list to ash with a sudden spark of luminous blue flame conjured by the runes that were a constant presence.

Then it looked around and picked the direction it believed to be southeast and headed that way not a question in its mind.

It was really Regular-Old-East but it's not like that can be changed. Just allow the construct some false pride in its navigation skills.

RUNA had acquired a quest, and that quest was to find the Creator.

The second step taken was much more successful, it immediately caused a blue glass like staircase to form to lead RUNA over the towering mountains. When RUNA came to the end of the structure it leapt of and flew into the unknown, which is rather cold.





RUNA had crossed the peak of the mountains and was no longer in the static valley it originated from. There was only hard gusts of biting ice and endless snow to those who knew no better on this side where the question that gnawed at those who had the time or the foolishness to stop and think was whether the cold or the snow itself was the worst thing a pony could face.

For RUNA it was the snow, it was so fierce as it worked its way down that it caused RUNA to flash briefly, as if damaged.

Its eyes flickered with some sort of primal nervousness that every creature touched by even the smallest bit of magic probably experienced at some point or another.

There right off to the side, it spotted a cave. RUNA heads inside her luminous blue glow casting crooked shadows on the cold stone.
It spots marks over the corner, worn into the stone. Old hoofmarks.

1,114 year old hoofmarks that have almost entirely vanished over the course of time.

RUNA sits quietly and waits. Maybe somewhere-out-there Creator may also be found.

Waiting.

Waiting in the dark.





Sun broke through the snow after some time, yet RUNA remained unflinching and silent like the stone surrounding it.
Those two ponies. RUNA was meant to protect them, ordered to. 

Where are they? Did they die?

It received no answer and left just as quietly as it entered, although perhaps for a different reason.

The snow was not falling as much anymore so RUNA decided to fly, to its Creator who just might be in need of a rather persistent blue construct.

RUNA was growing dimmer as the flight continued, though this went unnoticed by it.





Who knew what time meant to RUNA? It flew on and on until at some point RUNA fell out of the sky, spiraling downward into the sunbathed snow which glistened white gold. It looked even more faded then when RUNA took off.

RUNA opened her mouth once and then closed it as if to speak but only a bit of snow fell in. 

It tasted funny.

It sat in the snow splayed out in a perfect mid-flight shape just like how RUNA had fallen, completely drained and helplessly watching the sun sink turning the sky from red to dark blue. RUNA's eyes glowed as silver as the stars and slowly blue seeped back into her and RUNA began to look more solid.

At some point RUNA closed its eyes and slumbered in the snow in an empty state still trying not to fade completely...

Head southeast, head southeast, head southeast...

In a way that was all RUNA knew...even if it was wrong.





RUNA awoke to three-and-ten feet of freshly fallen on its head, which it melted with its horn in order to escape, emerging with its bright blue glow restored, expressionless and unbreathing as normal, a few fiery blue runes bobbing in distress.

Creator is still waiting. To RUNA that was all that mattered even though it technically not even know the identity of 'Creator'. Was Creator a mare of a stallion? Was Creator young or old? Was RUNA formed in their image? What was their name?

It never occurred to RUNA that Creator could be dead. As the only things RUNA knew of Creator was their voice - it sounded like a mare's but RUNA could not be sure - and how their magic felt.

RUNA stood in the moonlight, as still as can be not noticing that it made RUNA glow brighter.

Maybe Creator can bestow a new name...





Over the next few days RUNA trudged on growing dimmer every sunrise then brighter when it set yet was unsure of how much progress it really made or how much time passed.

RUNA just kept going its hoofsteps vanishing just as quickly as they appeared, consumed by the snow that landed on its bridge.

For a many more weeks all RUNA did was walk but only in the dark where its eyes lit up the snow. It didn't recall anything but keep moving forward, emptier then usual on the inside.

For now.





There are many things buried under the snow. Things change over time, including the land. RUNA locates a basin at some point, a basin located a large slice in the land.

RUNA's senses are abuzz with something it does not understand.

It comes from beneath RUNA's hooves, a shrill hum only it can hear.

Eventually RUNA digs up the snow, layer after layer until it finds what it sought.

Below it all are tainted ashes humming with old traces of a burning power which is a clear indication of magic.

A bizarre magic, that feels vaguely familiar.

Yet crackling in the air are things just as old as the ashes and as new as the top layer of the snow RUNA broke through.

RUNA cannot name it but it is impossible for a construct such as itself not to sense the troubling energy among the ashes of wood that was.

A Shadow's wrath still lingers even after all these years.





RUNA continued to travel for many nights (and even a few days) in search of the one who created it. The Night Orb, whose true name was unknown to this peculiar traveler bestowed power to RUNA, as being in the tree so long had damaged some of its ability to properly sustain itself.

RUNA couldn't experience fatigue but each day it constructed a barrier around itself as not to lose any power that was gained. Through this creation the whole world was tinted blue and only stars gave any indication that it was night.

Being left alone for so long often made anypony a philosopher and even though it wasn't a pony RUNA couldn't help but do some thinking, mostly about the moon and wondering if it was the sought after one known only as Creator, after all it gave RUNA power, just like Creator. 

Could they be the same? RUNA has never heard the Night Orb talk and am unsure if it can.

The silver beams of light marking where RUNA's gaze lands find the earth split beneath its snowy skin revealing the stone flesh, and scattered across it a few brave evergreens huddling against the wind and cradling the tossed snowflakes. None of this is visible to the normal eyes of ponies, as this grove is barely a blur on the horizon.

In time RUNA catches up with this spot until another sight replaces is as That Which is Off In The Distance. RUNA approaches its edge and peers in. Nothing is there so it lifts its gaze and teleports to the other side without even a blink, after all it was the more efficient option and RUNA was 'fond' of efficiency.

The grove contained almost nothing suspicious. Just trees that move in ways it cannot and faint hums of the strange magic that were almost as old as the construct.

More moonlight.

More walking.





RUNA builds continues a road to lead the way to the mysterious Creator, unaware of the monotonous routine of Her creation.

After RUNA left the grove a snowstorm swept it away, as if RUNA were as easy for the wind to carry as a snowflake. So from here on RUNA builds the road of what looks like vibrant blue glass and hopes in the mute and invisible way of such creations that it will lead to what RUNA desires most in the world of blue and white.

It is all the color RUNA knows.

Creator, where are you?





Everywhere there is snow, ice, rock, and sky although the rocks were not as prevalent now that the more mountainous terrain had been left behind, but it was only now that RUNA began to sense the decreasing elevation.

Despite the change in landscape RUNA did not know how long it had traveled or how long it would have to.





Was RUNA left behind on purpose? 

RUNA came to a halt and stared at the snow that was forever falling.

Did Creator forsake RUNA like RUNA did those two ponies...? Was that why the one who awakened RUNA was not the one who created RUNA?

Was RUNA useless? Did they forget about RUNA?

RUNA continued to stand still as if expecting answers to fall from the sky like countless snowflakes.

Is Creator dead?

No...it cannot be...

RUNA's road crumbles beneath its hooves, all its miles and bridges covering every peak and valley.

RUNA has to keep going, and so a new road is built and RUNA continues to walk towards the horizon never saying a single word as it follows the moonlight.





It is now that the road of glass connects to something unknown, clouds gathering over it. The sun is no longer out so RUNA stops to gaze at a blue-hued expanse as seemingly infinite as the snow.

Blue is good.





The white land is gone with its small snow-round-mountains and hills.

There are small gray pieces everywhere accompanied by finer ones on the border of this strange and fluid land.

Who killed the mountains? Was it not their life-beat RUNA felt traversing this place?

'Blue', as RUNA had begun to think of this new landscape, 'roars' and burst forward its edges becoming a soft looking and white as it stirs the small gray stones beneath RUNA's hooves.

RUNA gasps and jumps at this. Blue recedes at this returning some of the stones it took.

"Stop. Do not go. RUNA is a friend." 

Blue comes back.

"What are you?" RUNA asks it.

Blue shift and gathers itself, pointing upward and reaching for the floating masses of snow that drift far above them both.

Blue is a sky then. That much to is clear to RUNA. No, Blue is not a normal sky. The opaque look, the color, the attraction toward the true sky...Blue is a construct! Yes, that must be it.

But why is Blue alone? RUNA sees no stars or snow in its sky. Did Blue's Creator forget about them? But who was so mad they left Blue behind?

Maybe it was not a who but a what that created Blue?, RUNA thought, Perhaps it was the land? Can land do magic?
RUNA supposes land does need its own sky but why does it move so?

"Blue were you left behind too?"

Blue wells up and licks RUNA, this time spitting light, broken snow instead of stealing stones.
RUNA fall back on its haunches.

Blue recedes to make space for RUNA as it gazes at the white forming across Blue's surface just like the floating snow in the other sky, the one that isn't a construct, which grows brighter as the sun rises.

RUNA must continue the journey. Though RUNA does not believe it is to go over Blue-sky. It seems darker there so it must be night and it is the right direction after all.

It is time to go, to head southeast. RUNA wades into the gray-blue ocean, but jumps back, startled for a moment, although not by the cold that any living creature would feel.

RUNA tries to soak up as much moonlight as it can, unsure if it will find another moon for a while.

It then counts out as many of the the stars as it can before dawn comes, having memorized each one on its travels for navigation assistance.

Only then does it wade into the ocean, heading deeper into this 'second sky'.

Blue tugs in a way that is not the one RUNA has been taking, instead curling a different direction.

Oh, RUNA understands. First RUNA had to head east, and this must be south. So now RUNA will head south. That is how ponies get a 'southeast'.

It is where RUNA will wait for Creator.
> Millennium Tokens [One Shot] [Fluff] [Discord/Celestia] [Rarity/Twilight]
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Millennium tokens was not something that Twilight Sparkle could find in a dictionary or any other reference book. It wasn't something anypony on the streets of any city in Equestria would know.

It was during one of her lunches with Princess Celestia in Canterlot that she heard the term. The princess had been having a cup of tea - a new flavor, if Twilight recalled correctly - and Twilight had been having a daisy sandwich without those little fried tomatoes that she liked because Rarity said that they would ruin her figure and Twilight wasn't about to argue with her marefriend about sandwiches.

While Twilight had been mulling over how to make her remarkably plain sandwich more appetizing without having to spend extra she realized that while she had been trying to rationalize countless decisions in order to make the perfect sandwich, Celestia had been talking about something that might have been important.

"Sorry, Prin-Celestia, could you repeat that?" Twilight had said, offering a sheepish smile and privately wondering if blaming the sandwich and Rarity's passive-aggressively imposed diet would get her out of this pickle.

Within her mind, Twilight praised herself. Pickles! How had she not thought of that? Those were way better than fried tomatoes and...

...according the menu wasn't available.

Celestia laughed slightly. "Are you sure that I should be the one repeating myself? I'm quite interested in what that sandwich was telling you."

Twilight's sheepishness intensified. "Uhh... well... it wasn't anything important or anything, this one uhh... just wanted to know the weather...?" 

Twilight flashed her best smile, completely unaware that her jokes were terrible enough to be considered dangerous to the mental health of young children and that she had a very noticeable daisy petal caught between her teeth.

Celestia did end up repeating herself, and Twilight listened curiously. What was this 'millennium token' Discord had given the princess? She kept mentioning it by that name through the rest of their meal, never hinting at what it could be.

This is why Twilight had dragged - well not literally, she had to persuade Rarity to halt her latest project while she had been in a creative mood so she could come to Canterlot to help Twilight figure out the truth of the 'tokens', which meant her and Rarity could not stop to take in the 'chic atmosphere' of that new cafe that had opened right on one of the main boulevards of Canterlot.

Only then did they managed to reach the castle, where Twilight sought Princess Celestia's answer. What were 'millennium tokens' that Celestia had mentioned? She spoke about them almost casually, but there was nothing written about them anywhere! No archive or library held anything about the important-sounding mystery. Were these tokens some kind of magic artifact? That's where Twilight's thoughts had been straying in the case where she might be needed to study them or even use them to stop another enemy of Equestria.

At the same time, Twilight tried to listen to Rarity's concerns regarding her spring line, which was also important to the alicorn.

Rarity and her made their way through the halls of the castle which were warm and lit by the late morning sun. Their hooves made no little on the  plush and brightly colored carpet of the high-ceilinged corridor.

A sudden sound caught Twilight's attention, causing her to halt. "Rarity! What was that?"

"Twilight, darling, are you so lost in your thoughts that you've forgotten the sound of Princess Celestia's voice?" 

Twilight blinked, jaw agape at Rarity. "I what? Oh my goodness, we must be going down the wrong hall too..."

"We are."

Twilight sighed and backtracked according to Rarity's direction so they could find the source of Celestia's voice. The goddess' pleasant, almost motherly laughter could be heard echoing through the spacious halls of the castle and soon the two mares came to the threshold that gave them a full view of the scene playing out before them.

Standing in a hall with her near-silent secretary, Raven, was Princess Celestia. Her multi-colored mane flowed in the sunlight that she had brought forth at dawn, and she smiled kindly upon a bouquet of flowers unlike Twilight had ever seen.

Each part from petal to stem was a college of different flowers that both Twilight and Rarity knew to grow in Equestria, only they had been picked apart and mushed together somehow, and there wasn't a doubt in her mind about who could have given such an unusually exotic bouquet to her former mentor.

"Discord," Twilight whispered.

Rarity had not heard what Twilight had said, and was instead thinking of how she might be able to work some of those blooms into a floral trim for the upcoming line Twilight had pulled her away from, after all everything was still in the drafting stage and sketching the placement of a few trims here and there wouldn't be a problem.

"So that's what a millennium token is," Twilight concluded, "a token of affection."

"Mm-hm," Rarity chirped next to her, red spectacles still balanced on her muzzle.

"This... well it's certainly not what I expected." Twilight said, watching as the princess tucked a flower behind her ear.

"You do realize what this means, don't you Twilight?"

"We accidentally wasted time on something silly?" 

"You must give me a millennium's worth of these tokens, starting today."

"But Rarity, you're not even going to live for a millennium!"

"You can at least try, dear."

"How? How in Equestria am I supposed to buy you one thousand year's worth of gifts when you won't make it past three centuries at most! Gah, this doesn't make any sense!"

"Well I certainly won't be living that long with your negative attitude."

"Twilight! Rarity!" Princess Celestia called, "How good to see you both, would you care to stay for tea?"


Millennium tokens
are but little gifts
to build a bridge
to cross time spent apart.

> Everything Begins [Poetry] [Discord/Celestia]
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Both could agree—
that for at least one thousand years of parallel eternity,
each had been frozen in place.

Her with a smile upon her face
and a name removed without a trace.

He felt the paralyzing cage of stone,
which had changed his flesh and corrupted his bone.

The princess who let her crown speak for her
and the being who could no longer feel the wind stir.

They had been friends in another time, and for her what felt like another life,
where her mind had yet to go under her own knife.

Parted and driven apart like nothing one day,
he felt like he needed to be dust in the wind, taste a freedom that wouldn't allow him to stay.

Inside the filly who had already lost so much, her heart crashed and burned,
but she hid it all behind the perfect smile she had learned.

He traveled the world doing whatever he wanted
while the sun traveled north, seeking the land where she remained haunted.

For many years they only diverged with the aid of the distance between them,
his name she did condemn.

He who wandered to the south, became a famed menace through word of mouth.

She to the bitter north brought so many bottled emotions forth—
a roaring fire she became, warming those far away and burning those closest to her
locking her in a tragic dance with her own shadow—
the bright blue creature having no more sisterhood to bestow.

And there was silence.

To the land south, she guides ponies to a land free of shrouds of snow, her royal birthright she seeks to reclaim,
and he who travels north seeks entertainment brought by anarchy and fame.

Face to face after so long the tyrant meets the puppet master,
with her stringed shadow and his lost friendship they forge their own disaster,
their own names but insults on the other's tongue
gone and forgotten are the days when they were young.

After their first spat, the tyrant thirsting for her taken kingdom drags her shadow away with threats of return,
carefree and mad, the usurper finds the two goddesses to be no concern.

With ancient gems that aren't what they seem,

the dying sisterhood unites temporarily to bring back the elder's regime.

Their former friend, their Elements petrify
as if anymore were needed to make their bond die.

Fifty years later and it's one thousand years ago,
did the truly lone Sun have tears that did overflow,
and while she realized that none but her were to blame, part of her refused to acknowledge that in her mind of absolutes she may have been the villain all along.

She tries to learn of her sister's plight, 
with a daring and dangerous flight
to scream tabula rasa at the skies, crying for her hollow-feeling heart and mechanical mind to be made truly blank,
to forget grief and feeling, to be the perfect princess and rule on, for this destruction of herself she would not see herself as the tyrant a moment longer, a vile monster withing, disgusting and rank.

Century after century she rules alone smiling almost all day, as if neat and clock-work driven,
until one day she confronts a forgotten statue and asks if she can be forgiven,
she cannot hear his words as he hears hers, and only wants her to accept his entropy and give in.

A miscommunication and half forgiveness with a plea to change his ways
and a few decades later her Faithful Student and nation of Equestria he tried to raze.
She couldn't bear to witness what felt like only a tyrant's crime,
and so he found his seal to be broken in such short time
and there the princess waited to see if he'd adopt the trend,
waiting and waiting in her castle only to hear the confirmation that he had made a friend.

From there they try to build the friendship that was lost
only for her to be hurt once more as Equestria's flag —from his mismatched claw—was tossed
so he could follow a different tyrant
and even though the situation seemed so dour
she found herself forgiving him again—this time for a flower
that was a leap from friendship, a silent shove
and her nod a confirmation of mutual love.


> Past Skies [Minific] [Discord/Celestia] [Friendshipping]
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Celestia hummed as she daintily plucked the stems of flowers, which she planned to weave into her flowing pink mane after she untangled a few pesky knots that one gets when living in a state of constant adventure where little princesses could not stop to brush their manes to shining perfection as they always wished.

However, there was always a flower or two where one knew a patch of sunshine could be found. So it was there that she spent time alone - when she bothered to serperate herself from her sister and best friend at all - picking flowers in the vast meadow the three had stopped at, barely north of the desert. She had no crown to wear, which she pined for along with other small luxuries of her princesshood - fluffy pillows and well-cooked food, for example. Things like clean floors and orderly gardens with the most brilliant of flowers, so she wouldn't have to settle for anything.

She always dreamed of places like that, where glass would separate her from the storms of the world and ponies would smile at her. Celestia the markless no longer wished to be marked with dirt each time she slept and have to scrub herself in a stream each morning. If there was one, that is.

She wanted - privately, and behind a pleasant smile or thoughtful glance at their only map - all the things that Luna hadn't cared for. The bright filly just wanted a light to guide her to a road in a world that didn't match up with the map she held, not always.

Something missing, it was always something missing. A hollow feeling with smile for a balm.

She made do in a world that had lit a jaded light within her, what was she living? It felt like she was at the end of a storybook with no conclusion at all, only to wake up at page one over and over again.

But she made do. For Luna.

She picked flowers and played pretend.

Princesses played pretend.

Princesses smiled.

She may not know what she's doing to herself, just that she must follow the map, go somewhere, and always look after Luna. Celestia must change, and this is what she would change into - a filly ripping out flowers in an empty meadow to make a futile effort in crafting a crown to reassure herself of something.

Something, and only that. There was no clue to what it was, only that it might be there.

Princesses don't yank flowers from their roots.

Princesses don't get dirty.

Princesses always smile.

Princesses don't break their own rules.

Princesses put others above themselves.

Princesses are graceful and will defend their kingdoms.

Princesses have a kingdom to defend.

Princesses do not ask questions, they give answers.

Princesses tell themselves the rules over and over again.

Princesses follow those rules.

And there was a whole host of them, all almost parable-like commandments she would assert about things like manners to help remind Luna that mud was very yucky, or how she had to always stay six steps of Celestia when it was dark - mostly for the latter's sake. The elder believed every one of them in some way.

Luna didn't listen much, but not out of spite. Luna simply wasn't afraid.

Of something.

Luna wasn't the one who stood in meadows with their legs covered in dirt because she hurt flowers on purpose.

Except, they weren't much of flowers anymore, as two magenta eyes could plainly see.

Dozens of butterflies, of all colors and sizes soaring into the cloudless sky and back again so the cascading wave of pink mane was like a nest hosting many birds.

From a short distance across a bed, now flower-less, Celestia could see the wave of a paw. It was not Luna, who either snuck up on her or bounded over calling 'Tia!' with an honest grin. Luna did not have a snaggle-toothed grin.

Celestia smiled only a little bit wider - after all, she was still a princess - but at least this time she knew it was real.

If only for a moment.

> Plain Vanilla [One Shot] [Celestia/OC]
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Vanilla Bean was a simple stallion. He wasn't somepony you would ever notice in a crowd, with his pale blue coat that seemed washed out and faded instead of just light in hue. His unusual - though only vaguely so - white mane and tail with brown stripes that was neither curly, wavy, straight or anything distinct was too simply styled to be noticeable.

The gala around him - his very first - was bustling with ponies of all kinds; mares in elaborate gowns and stallions in fine suits surrounded him.

As for him?

He had lost a bet - it was how a simple ice cream merchant like him had been able to attend such an event - to his dearest sister, Chocolate Pie... who really wasn't as sweet as her name suggested when she could get him into this kind of situation...

It had been her choice after all, to have them both buy an opportunity - tickets of paper with numbers scrawled on them in dull, sterile looking print all meant to add up to one possibility - a fleeting chance at something grand and far away - the Grand Galloping Gala. Somehow, he had been the one to get that ticket.

But that also meant that he had to wear whatever Chocolate wanted him to. And so here he was... at the Grand Galloping Gala in nothing but a bow tie and mask that matched this years theme - that of a masquerade. He silently thanked himself for being too plain to draw any attention, despite the scandalous nature of his attire... which was scandalous by Gala terms, at least.

Or maybe it was only a matter of time before somepony noticed him and gossip ran wild. He gulped nervously at the possibility and drifted away from the nearest table, as it was cluttered with foodstuffs too irresistible for the gala-goers to resist. That would certainly be a bad stop if he was trying to go unnoticed. Usually, he was as sociable as a pony could be - the wide circle of friends and acquaintances that usually accompanied him was currently replaced by the lack of any company at all on what would either be the best or the worst night of his life.

He adjusted his mask - it was pale green, and just light enough to help him blend in with the bright colors of all the other suits, gowns, and masks but not so bright that it stood out, which was a relief. The lack of any sequins of glimmering threads woven in anything but simple patterns was no doubt in his favor too.

As he hurried away, his gaze dropped to the floor so he might avoid staring at anypony - not that they would recognize him - and to avoid being distracted by the two feathers adorning his mask that bobbed on the edge of his view. If he kept this up, it really would be the perfect disguise! Even if he likely wouldn't talk to anypony - it was embarrassing to think that the only Gala he might attend would be one on a bet of sorts.

With his eyes to the floor, he did not see the shape walking toward him - and if she saw him coming, she never said, but the next thing he knew was that he was walking straight into-

-none other than Celestia, goddess of the sun and moon, and Alicorn Princess of Equestria...

She smiled at him. It was a surprised, modest smile that somehow managed to fit on the regal face of the great goddess. He gulped and tried not to let his gaze linger out of politeness. She didn't wear any gown - which was surely going to be the talk of all of Equestria by the Gala's end - as if that could somehow cause her to blend in more. Only a plain mask covered her face, like a thin frame to her warm magenta eyes.

She was too obvious. Too noticeable. How hadn't somepony noticed her walking in plain sight? How hadn't he?!

...And why was she still looking at him?

"Good evening, my little pony. I trust that you are enjoying the celebration?"

Vanilla nodded dumbly. Was he still staring? He wasn't sure, his mind felt blank. Was part of her power numbing ponies like this, so they could do nothing but look at her in awe? To Vanilla it certainly felt like that. Here was the mare who raised and lowered both the sun and the moon standing before him...

"What is your name?"

...and she just asked him his name!

Vanilla flushed under his mask. So much for going unnoticed. "Vanilla Bean," he managed.

"And what is it that brings you to the Gala?" Princess Celestia asked warmly.

Vanilla blinked. She, the princess of all the realm - currently without a bit of finery on her - wanted to talk to him? He knew the princess was social, none doubted that she loved all her subjects but...

"A bet," he blurted. "I'm here because of a bet. Not that I'm not enjoying anything, Your Majesty, but you see-"

"Would you like to talk some more in the gardens? It is a little crowded in here, isn't it?"

He nodded again. It would be best just to listen to her. She was the princess after all, and one did not doubt the princess. Besides, how bad could it be talking to such a kind, pretty mare like Princess Celestia?

He nodded a final time, stronger, but not in a particularly assertive way. "Yes. Yes, Princess. I'd like that a lot."

She smiled at him. Again. "Well, I'm glad you are so willing to join me."

When she turned to go, he followed without question. This really didn't seem so bad at all...
> Click [Sombra/Luna] [Bonus Material]
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------




This portion was typed on a mobile device. It might be a bit wonky.




Click; a resounding sound. Faint and deceptive to those whose ears listen too hard or not at all.

Brief and dull to those creatures who pound the ground as they walk but ignore the world's whispers of the coming silence before the players move once more across their vast stage, murmuring their dialogues so such a small echo goes unnoticed, despite the weight it carries.

Click - the sound of something momentous, and often forgotten. The equestrian tongues call it 'eureka' when they have but a shadow of these while immortal ears prick up in hopes of catching a fleeting hint of what is to come, provided they can hope to decipher the fragment.

There was no drastic variation to what was in this moment, it was the actions of those who brought about such events and the aftermaths that they forged that set new things in motion. Few had this occur in their life, for while they could acknowledge themselves as heroes in their own modest stories, the truth was they were far from even that, being bystanders at most, for their paths were plain as they were. Yet there were those pony, god, or something else entirely who called the shots and obeyed no worldly script but saw fit to unravel whatever puppet strings that those who only appeared to be their peers held onto in hope of being guided to endings they gave little thought to, for they did not defy and their dreams were not made into something greater. They would not last, they would cease to transcend if they tried at all.

Each and every one of them would fail and continue to work out their small dreams and uncomplicated lives to which there was no remedy, until one day Fate's usually absent strings snagged them upward with a necklace of rope, and it would be there some amiable -seeming Reaper would collect them like flowers.

But they wayward burned and thrashed, refusing to cease even when they lacked any common restraints that would be the accepted burden to their placid kin.

Those who fought nothing, gained nothing and those who sought nothing, learned nothing. Those who dreamed forever created nothing and those who toiled forever duel wielding unnecessary humility alongside some other tool in hopes of creating something to represent themselves often never looked to see what they were, beyond the coat of a pony or feathers of a griffin.

Sombra was none of the above. He was neither bound by common order or a pony. He was the most wayward of all mortals.

And now he resided in what could have been nothing.

'Could have been' if he ignored the ever-present: everything, which had sprung from him in the first moments of what would be one thousand years as he sensed the cold that no ordinary mortal could hope to survive and that would even cause the gods to shiver, if they could in such a situation. Sombra's own presence would grow to fill this - or at least most of the - vast void that could rob almost every aspect of being and the mind from every sane soul that would face the same impossibly long stay that would no doubt last longer than any mortal life.

Luckily, Sombra was one who had never known sanity.


...


This was a place where Sombra would never feel snow beneath his bare hooves, for there was no snow to fall, no sky for it to fall from, and no ground for it to fall upon.

Sombra also noted that he had no hooves as well. His body was gone, woven into shadow that appeared to have all but dissolved into an outer darkness, which he was then sent; alone.

His body was gone for who knows how long, if there was a finite duration of time that one could be here.

With his body gone, only he remained.

And who was Sombra?

He had always been more, he was always better than what he was expected to be. Even in this otherworldly place that would not change.

Sombra was a demon unknown to all but one mortal soul - the soul of the child that had created him with a gamble, anger, and dark magic that had judged such a dim pony worthy of corruption.

The result of that corruption was Sombra himself, a defiant and reclusive sort who believed in the power of the mind and all the glorious insanity and genius that his had, something he had wanted to use in order to walk the world to find its farthest reaches, where no ponies plagued him with the misery their unwanted company brought.

Instead, the twisted desire of a crystal pony colt bent on unneeded vengeance and sadistic desire had held him hostage as the worst kind of weapon - one that could feel and see his own powers being abused and the blood that stained his hooves because of a lonely born-broken child who had never been properly dealt with, one whose impulsivity and utter stupidity was only countered by young Sombra's cold calculations and fierce intellect.

Those too, had been exploited by a twisted mind who wanted only to abuse power, ponies, and most of all Sombra himself - the demon he had unknowingly summoned and willingly stolen a name from.

And so begins the first year of the not-entirely-divided duo in the goddess-wrought void to house the two halves of the King.


...





The mobile portion ended here, so the next portion posted here will be excerpts from chapter thirty of Favorable Alignment.




There's a maddening dysphoria in no longer having a body or world to take shape in for all who lack more than one form. Sombra had always known what if felt like to dissolve into shadow.

It was better that way. The anger he felt now - a savage and all-consuming force that sharpened what senses still worked and etched every memory with the deadliest precision so nothing would be forgotten for a long while. Later, he would ensure that nothing would escape his memory even if he wanted it to.

But for now, rage shook a realm with no boundary.

He was alive, at least.

And alone - something that had always been a desire of his, an impossibility when the crown and another's dark wishes had dictated his life as much as the clinking of chains had governed the existence of crystal ponies.

Now all of those things were gone, something that he would appreciate in time when rage subsided and the silence after this storm tempered with his nature and his ambitions were softened for much needed self-examination.

There would be plenty of time for that.

In time, there would be plenty of time for anything for somepony like him who had known only limitations and bitterness.

That would wait a long while.

For one hundred years there would be nothing but the most brutal fury unleashed in a place where nothing could appear and time wore on in the darkness, and his mind traveled forward with it, a world he could no longer see continuing to be outside the void where only the cold of ice seeped in and chilled him. Something far colder than ice would try to seep into his very mind and break it. Instead, he broke this otherworldly chill, defying it as he had defied everything else he had ever known.

When the horror of his fiercest and longest bout of temper - an anger that then was indescribable and almost eldritch in it's near infinite intensity - was able to be shaped into something else, his mind snapped to the task.

From nothing but the magic he was left in this god-sealed prison made just for him he wielded both his genius and his rage until his ambition-driven magic had forged the only thing he would need to remember everything...


...


Out of everything to focus on, one face was clearer than anything else. It was the face of a blue-coated goddess.

She had beaten him and brought everything down with a single move. It was she he wanted nothing to do with - she was the younger one, the shadow of her sister.

The other princess.

Nothing she should do mattered.

And then she had done something that did.

He hated her for it and despised her with every fibre of his being. Luna - he would never forget the name of his greatest enemy - had somehow sneaked past his notice. How? He had seen her before him in their fight - she who always seemed to look away and never spoke.

She was weak. Unremarkable. Submissive. Stupid.

Utterly worthless.

This mare would never amount to anything and was a waste of the power she was born with. The mere thought of her ignited the feeling of fire through his mind.

She couldn't escape his focus any longer, after all, she was what had been overlooked so now she would become his focus. Everything else was just another card to gamble away - as dull and predictable as possible. It didn't matter what these factors and mortal identities did - they could be beaten and broken.

But she was different - a challenge disguised as a compliant immortal. He couldn't account for her actions, and to say that troubled him would be the second-greatest understatement in history.

Sombra - for now there was no title forced in front of his name that was now returned to him - would devote all mental energy not spent operating ethereal switches and functions to keep his memories of the past, present, and future intact on figuring out the perfect demise for Luna.

With enough time - which was near limitless here - he would be able to engineer the perfect torment for an immortal goddess and humiliate her with the burden of her own defeat. There would be nothing that could prevent him from this - nopony was present to challenge him, the time he would spend here was bound to exceed that of any mortal equine's life, and day and night cycle to hinder him.

The same burning intent that was almost identical to his hatred for the twisted crystal pony colt that had brought him into this world would only urge him onward.

So began the first hundred years of unrelenting anger that outlasted any mortal fire as the cold wore on.

As always, Sombra endured.



...



No matter how weak or capable one's enemies could be, Sombra treated each of his foes as just another face, for that was what they were until they made themselves stand apart as they acted upon the urge to make some futile attempt against him.

All attempts had been futile - until she made hers.

The world was his enemy, and Sombra had always known this. From the moment he had been created, the young demon knew that his nature alone - regardless of his deeds and  too-different mind - would earn him foes that reached numbers few would bother to count.

Know your enemy. It was only then that moves could be made against them and the table they were so foolish to rest their hooves upon turned right under their muzzles. Then, every measure taken against them so nothing but hope remained within their grasp. That too, could break. He had seen it.

He had felt it.

Now here he was having to know an enemy that could be fought. With all the time to keep his mind intact and only improve himself in this situation. How could a goddess be so foolish to ensure her actions would risk something like this?

If there was one thing unknown to Sombra, it was the unattainable satisfaction of true revenge - a deprivation he despised so.

Yet, if they were to meet again he could exact all the revenge he wanted against this deathless, cowering goddess.

He told himself he would love that - and really, he would. Sombra would finally get a chance to hurt somepony that had thought she could get away with hurting him.

Luna was the most weak, unintelligent, compliant, submissive, and obnoxious creature that he had encountered, and he hated her.

But to create the best way to torment her in order to push her past the breaking point 'till nopony could repair her, Sombra had to know Luna. The only way to do that would be to examine every memory he had of her hundreds of times over and deconstructing every facet of her behavior to map out the way she thought so she could be outsmarted.

For one hundred years, Luna would be his insane obsession.



...



There were lifetimes of information for somepony like Sombra, whose hypervigilant mind examined the goddess-princess, former apprentice Selene, and shadow of the sun in all her forms.

She was a warrior, her skill in weaponry subdued and hidden to those who didn't scrutinize her every move before realizing one of them would be their last. Under her blue forelock her wide eyes that hid all the wonder she clung onto with a desperation to survive that seemed so savagely mortal and familiar in the latent desire to transcend her situation.

He observed a perception that could be caught in fleeting, sideways glances that appeared to predict just when those that surrounded her and falsely named her a peer would look away and catch only the smallest pieces of her unwavering, solemn gaze.

With that eye for detail that allowed her to notice the smallest things and hear a hundred words unsaid in every silence she could make her supposedly meek demeanor appear completely honest and without effort.

Her honesty was another thing that struck him as odd - how she protested, sometimes silently, how she could never seem to find it in her to tell the smallest fib at the risk of an unnatural silence.

She was unnatural - how had he missed such chilling skills of observation? Each hit in battle she landed was carefully calculated but equally furious in delivery.

Her power - in fragments he recalled the flurry of power that only a demon like him could sense and how it had clung to her, fitting  her like a tailored cloak and matching her every movement and swirling with each bout of strong emotion that overtook her in their battle, invigorating her.

He had thought that the power that she had been born into and twisted and fostered into something so befitting of her nature was wasted, though she was by far the most powerful creature he had met.

That sense of power - and every ounce of hidden, measured strength - wasn't abused or squandered in order to exaggerate her nature and highlight her as goddess. For somepony who lacked the maliciousness and cruel cunning that Sombra had, she was remarkably good at accepting her feared power and dominating the magic that she radiated so her actions spoke.

This element that made her so unapproachable - this threatening, alien aspect of her - had piqued his interest. It would make her all the more interesting to fight, knowing she was more capable than she appeared. Sombra found this quality to her... addicting? No, that was not right. Luna - his enemy - had an odd allure to her and well-harnessed power with the intelligence to manage it? That feature alone was worth immense amounts of focus.

Sombra never thought to deny how magnetic it was - a proper rival had certainly be something he hadn't expected. Nor had he expected this horribly clever mare's looks to speak for her when she opted for silence upon re-evaluation.

There was something so obvious about the way she had looked at him in battle - those direct and vaguely bewildered looks in her wonderstruck eyes.

They had never met before. Though she lingered in many of Onyx's memories, Sombra had never given her much thought other than to acknowledge that she was one of the last Alicorns.

And she looked at him with an unmistakable recognition mixed with fear that haunted him. It was...

...heart-wrenching?

The void had stirred at this with Sombra's discontent over the choice. It wasn't a proper term to describe his enemy but it was what he thought fit best. Somepony sympathetic to Luna would find the looks she gave him - how troubled she was with every lasting moment they had looked at the other - to be heart-wrenching.

Any mention of a heart caused further disturbances in Sombra's presence as he recalled her winning move: the kiss that had confused him so much in its aftermath. Every time he recalled the event, it was with the sourness at knowing she was his enemy and how disgusted he was that somepony he dreaded had gotten that close to him with a mere twist-

Well, he did admit she was clever at the very least, and though his hatred for her burned on, ever brighter the longer he obsessed over this mare the knowledge that she was intelligent enough to stand against him - or just intelligent in general, really - was pleasing and Sombra would know what pleasing feels like. Every act of retaliation against the mind that tried to bind his fate had been pleasing, but with a more vicious feeling to it.

This was like a pause - a single moment of contentment - before his tempest of vindictive desire resumed and browsed each instance of Luna all over again.

Luna was a typical target of many of Onyx's cruelties and in his life the young colt had pursued her and stalked - for there was no intelligence in his desire to seek Luna out - the mare when she was far younger in her forays into the dense wooded area surrounding the tower Starswirl lived in.

For a creature so eye-catching and out of place in Crystalline castles and cobblestone towers, she didn't look completely hideous in that forest as Sombra would have thought of any other pony.

It was the moments like this - when Luna was free of woe, distress, and her many anxieties that troubled her in each memory, both Onyx's and Sombra's - that Sombra liked to observe her most. He found her most curious when she wasn't alarmed or trying to hide how extreme her emotions were that he could stop to watch Luna when she wasn't falling apart.

He never asked himself why, his focus always resumed soon enough but once or twice he found himself thinking about how her mane looked like the night sky when he met Luna for the first and only time. It was an obvious comparison to make, but he liked it. Anything to remind him of the sight of the stars - the only thing he missed - was always appreciated.



...



The longer he fixated on her, the more his focus steered elsewhere. Though he studied the memories of Luna meticulously he continued to assert she was his enemy - a statement he never doubted - before he stopped making such useless reminders all together and became even more absorbed in studying what visions of Luna he had constantly, since there was little to distract him.

Small antics of hers never ceased to spark some feeling of amusement in him: the way she tilted her head when pondering something, how she looked when her surroundings seemed to dissolve before her whenever she was engrossed in a book of verse, the colder stare she had in battle, the way she communicated to much with so little noise - he had always had a twisted appreciation for that in his eternal selfishness.

Even if her loyalty to her sister was misplaced to him - it was plain that she was a creature who, despite all her devotion and hidden passions wasn't as naturally inclined to such somberness as it seemed.

Something was missing, and it didn't take long for Sombra to realize that he had never seen a memory where Luna smiled.



...



What Sombra found to be the most troubling about Luna - he never called her anything else - was that she wasn't stupid or commonplace.

Once he picked her out of a crowd or any other setting, it was impossible to forget the impression she made. No matter how much she tried to disappear or hide she only stood out more and more to him, even in memories he had viewed thousands of times.

She could see things that others never acknowledged.

She saw him.

She didn't see the King - and if she had, she saw past him.

She saw Sombra, and no matter how strange they were to one another she had always looked at Sombra like she had known him, like that had made it hurt so much to see him when they fought.

Luna hadn't just suspected him of being somepony else - he had seen that too - but she was able to see Sombra himself no matter how much he had tried to drown in the darkness and grudgingly accept that castle as his tomb - so as long as he died by his own terms.

Everything about that was beautiful, but there was also something deeply horrifying too.

The moment she kissed him felt like the invisible, imaginary gears in a clockwork world that only they defied had clicked.

The moment Sombra knew what everything he had put aside and all the reactions he overlooked amounted to, he thought that he could feel them click again, louder than before as he looked over that memory yet again. He felt the surge of cold that only he was sure he could withstand as he thought about Luna, the mare with the brilliant mind who had beat him.

Luna, with the greatest power he had ever witnessed.

Luna, who he couldn't control - and even if he wanted to he would feel something he hadn't before: guilt.

Luna, for whom he felt sorry for ever hurting.

She who was like nopony else, who held her own.

She had done the impossible: she had proved him wrong.

As one hundred years ran out and the gears of the world clicked again, Sombra felt them whether they were his imagination or not. He felt the cold sense of dread and dawning realization of what he had never imagined as everything fell into place within his mind.

He did know his enemy, far better than he ever thought he would.

Sombra knew that he loved her, and that knowledge felt like whiplash. One conclusion that he wanted to tear apart and desperately try to deny because he simply couldn't believe it.

It hurt more than anything he had ever known right then and there because he knew that it was right and all denial would fall apart before he could even work on establishing anything that might counter this.

Whatever this was - this feeling so like hatred except for its core - was the strangest thing he had ever felt. And he was scared, or maybe excited - he really wasn't sure.

But maybe this wouldn't be as gods-awful as he anticipated it would be. After all, this is why he couldn't conjure up even half a plan to hurt this mare who was so beautiful when she stood alone.

Then, such a feeling was indescribable, but he didn't want anypony to take this away from even if he let them or there was somepony to try.

All this felt like drawing out poison. There was so much he wanted to know: what her smile looked like, what she thought about anything and everything, if she had seen all of the known world, if she would tell him about it, what their next meeting would be like...

The list went on and on as soon as he embraced this strange, addictive, and - in it's own way - rebellious nature.

Bit by bit, he could take his mind back and begin to overturn some of what had been done to him with something other than just sheer stubbornness and cunning. There was something else fueling him now.

He would have to wait to see Luna - that was an ache he would need to bear - but for them it would be worth it.

He had seen the ponies in the world - he had read about distant lands - but there was something unsatisfying about that now that that particular dream had been moved to second place - and a distant one at that.

He was the most selfish, arrogant, cunning, ruthless, thoughtful, ambitious and more. Absolutely nothing would get in his way to see the world - and in the end, her. There would be all the consequences he could imagine and even some he couldn't.

He was Sombra, the best the world had ever known and with the hope he never had before he would seek Luna, the brightest.

So the wait began. He remembered. He planned. He mourned. He burned with fury and everything else that he felt in droves.

And he hoped that wherever Luna was, she remembered him too.



...



This was the closest thing to freedom Sombra had ever known, and as tragic as that was to anypony else Sombra only found this experience to be riveting.

He was the center of the world, alone and not as restless as he had once been. While he certainly wasn't happy or even relived, he felt relatively unburdened and had accepted as much of the present and future here as possible, even if it dragged on time wasn't much of a bother to him.

For once, Sombra's life wasn't agonizing. His mood wasn't nearly as volatile as it had once been.

If he had cared to term it as anything it would be 'safe'. Like love it was an entirely new experience and even if he preferred the former, safe wasn't a horrid thing to be - though it could be jarring.

Sometimes, after a few decades meddling with magic systems and imagining anything that happened to cross his mind in a cold and unforgiving void of constant darkness Sombra would be overtaken by long bouts of paranoia and hurriedly deconstruct his experiments, ethereal constructions gleaming when his presence neared them vanishing faster than any mortal creature could blink as he waited for harm to come to him. On occasions like this he would have to shake his worst memories and the sensation of searing-hot magic tearing him apart.

It was almost stunning when nothing hurt him and he could go back to rebuilding everything better than before, the only thing close to sound being memories of others and his own tone, twisted from his equine voice into the rumbling of his shadow form, even if he lacked that much substance here.

Sombra was never bored. He had never been one to get lonely either, but there were some things he missed and not being able to control these things angered him - he was not free from episodes of frustration that had devolved into anger. Like love, he embraced almost any emotion he felt.

Oftentimes he just longed to hear his own voice again. Or flip his mane the way that made Onyx seethe.

Seeing colors again would be something he looked forward to.

He missed the sound of her voice and sometimes he would be quieter than usual for months while he replayed the only instances of he talking where she wasn't scared or mournful. There weren't very many of those but whenever Luna sounded sad, it hurt him more than he would ever let anypony know.

If he didn't already know the answer and he had somepony to ask, he would inquire to whether anypony cared about her.

Sombra certainly did.


...



Sombra could withstand each passing year with increasing ease after his epiphany. As expected, he slipped in and out of periods of mania, depression, and other things he wouldn't dare name. Mostly it was the lower moods - they were the most familiar after all. He knew that this was far better the alternative. Had he been anywhere close to sane his mind would have unraveled before him until only distorted instinct remained.

It had been centuries since he had ended up here and he had fully embraced his feelings for Luna. His obsession had worn down to something else that wasn't as maniac in nature, something that felt much more thoughtful if he could describe it to anypony that had been there.

If he could divide how he spent his time into two absolutes it would be a rather neat divide between craving further isolation as he obsessed over future machinations and thinking about Luna. Since he lacked any knowledge of what became of her after their one and only encounter, whenever he was at his lowest moods he found himself coming back to it time and time again.

He had already studied their confrontation tens of thousands of times. It was  familiar, nostalgic, and no matter how many times he looked at this memory he hadn't been able to figure out one thing: Why somepony as smart and well-versed in magic as Luna had failed to defeat him by exploiting the fact that he was - and still is - a mortal? In the aftermath of their kiss she could have easily taken her blade to him or forced him to help find her locate her elder sister and have them both smite him. Sombra was the most powerful mortal they had ever encountered - he was certain of that - but that didn't mean that Luna wasn't presented with more than enough opportunities - ones that she would have seen - to end his life.

So why didn't she?

She wasn't incompetent as he had first thought and was more likely to break rules and entice any form of rebellion than her sister, and she was more likely to fight unconventionally or even use dubious tactics.

So why would he be here, where he was preserved instead of reduced to ash in the snow after a much more prolonged siege? There were plenty of times that could have been the outcome - yet her actions acted as the focal point where everything rippled out of control. Luna and her sister may not have been as skilled as they could have been for goddesses but they were still that - goddesses - and they would not tire as easily as he would.

She had seen him - however briefly - in all his unstable rants and sudden displays of temper so how could she allow Sombra to have any chance of survival or any kind of preservation at all?

Why would she not see that being sealed in a soul-chilling void where he couldn't physically age or be burdened with any physical needs at all was more of a mercy than a punishment?

She had seen him! She could see past all the regalia that had been forced upon him and yet she couldn't calculate such a simple possibility? That was outrageous!

He wanted her to look at him now! He loved her! He was smarter! His temper had gone from monstrous violence to something much more like an abnormally angry youth. He wasn't as violent any longer. He had time to think about everything, to be better. He was the center of the world. He could barely sense Onyx anymore - Sombra had long since deduced that he was suffering the same fate Sombra was enjoying so much, for he had braved the cold and so much more.

When he got out - if he did at all - he was going to use the short amount of time he would have to live to tell her how sorry he was and that he loved her. Maybe they could see the world before the effects of being in here took their toll. He could see the future, and maybe he would get to see her smile...

But he might not tell her at all... he knew that mare, and if she loved him back then he knew she of all immortals wouldn't be able to handle his death unless he managed to avoid the clutches of Tartarus.

He'd find the Book again and give her any clue to what happened to the other gods. Maybe he'd get an answer as well.

But none of this would be possible if it weren't for her mistake.

Except...

Except maybe it wasn't a mistake at all...

That thought - a second revelation - had more impact on him than falling down the entirety of the winding staircases he had made in the Crystal Empire.

Of course...

She couldn't have possibly known everything but because of her...

Luna had saved him.

Luna, the mare he loved more than he loved himself, was his savior. Because of her the only destiny he had was his own. Even though he would be bound Onyx forever, the godly magic used to send them both here had weakened their ties, ever so slightly.

But by the very stars that dared mimic her mane...

His destiny was his now, if he had a 'destiny' at all.

This... This changed everything.

It was his and his alone and he could make it as grand or terrible as he wanted it to be. Any dream he ever had...

Just maybe, maybe it could be true now. Luna was the reason he was alive, and though his own guiles may have aided him in weaving this fate, she was the one who had sealed it. For this, he loved her again. He now had freedom - or something like it.

She was trapped when she last saw him, and if she was still trapped when he found her then he would return the favor and set her free as well. To the best of his ability, he'd help her find who she had been forgetting, who she needed most: herself.

Sombra didn't care if he could never be happy or truly free because he now had a life to make his own and a fight to win.

He would wait and fight on. He would defy as Luna defied all his expectations. He would plan and he would continue to be always rebellious, no matter how big or small the challenges he faced would be.

And for the first time in a long, long while, Sombra wanted to live again.
> Demon Racist [Bonus Material] [Omake] [Sombra/Cadance] [Friendshipping]
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sombra shuffled the stack of papers grasped in his aura boredly, while in the chair next to him, Cadance eyed his coffee mug warily.

"Isn't that a bit much?" She pointed to the mug with one gold-clad forehoof.

Sombra arched an eyebrow and looked at her with the beginnings of a glare. "My smug mug is perfect, thank you very much. Any further complaints about is can go there." He jerked his own metal-clad forehoof to a nearby trash can nearby their table at the conveniently empty Canterlot Cafe.

Cadance stared at the mug that did indeed display a smug image of Sombra himself on it. "Oookay then. I'm the only one who thinks two pairs of freaky demon eyes staring at me is going to be odd."

Sombra scowled, thrust a few papers at her, jabbing the pink mare in the chest with the sheets - half of which he had under his free forehoof and not in crimson aura - and mouthed the words 'demon racist'.

Cadance mouthed 'sorry' back. It was instinct, after all, and Sombra noticed.

"Living with the crystal ponies does terrible things to anypony, so don't think that you're an exception."

Cadance frowned in confusion, accepting the papers. "Terrible how?"

"You're terribly polite," Sombra grumbled, taking a sip from his coffee.

"That so bad, eh?"

Sombra shuddered. "Just look up the topic I drafted for us today."

"'All demons are created having knowledge implanted within them,'" Cadance read.

Sombra took another sip of coffee. Cadance wished for a scone, but muttered 'huh' instead.

"Something wrong?" Sombra asked.

"So... you were born already knowing everything?"

Her reply earned a snort from Sombra. "First off, I was created, not born. We've been over this before. If you're going to be learning more about demons and dark magic from me then we'll need to have you pick up some proper jargon here. Second, no, I did not know everything."

Narrowing her eyes in suspicion, Cadance squinted at Sombra, a sunny day in Canterlot showing behind her. "But... you're such a smart alec-"

"I prefer clever bastard or smartass," Sombra interjected.

"I'm trying to be nice! Polite, eh? That aside, I can't believe you didn't know everything when you created. I mean, c'mon... you can know everything. Guess my favorite color."

"Pink," Sombra replied flatly, his stare even flatter.

Cadance swallowed, as pale as though she had seen a ghost. "You're good."

"'Good' is an insult to me."

"...Okay, that's off topic-"

"Says the mare who keeps steering us into discussions of trivial matters instead of staying on the topic of my less-than esteemed species."

"Gotcha," Cadance replied, clearing her throat slightly. "Please name something you didn't know upon your moment of creation," she said in the politest tone possible.

Sombra's eyebrow rose again, even higher and he smirked. "Well miss, just let me know who bad guard is going to be and maybe I'll go so far as to consider whatever deal you'll be suggesting."

Both giggled, a pleasant summer breeze wafting through the cobbled street, bringing the fresh scent of the mountain with it.

"Seriously, Sombra, what didn't you know?"

He considers her question, a hoof tapping his chin in thought. "My eventual fate, the geography of the world, the cultures of the world, how to cook, what a cactus was - oh, and these are only examples, by the way - and where ponies came from-"

"Wait!"

Sombra looked at the pink source of the outburst. "Yes...?"

"You didn't know where ponies come from?"

Sombra shook his head. "Not then."

"How old were you?"

"When I was created? Fourteen."

"Okay..." Cadance said, drawing out the single word in a way that gained a suspicious look from Sombra.

"Is that a problem, Mac?"

"I was twelve when my mom gave me the talk and told me that if I ever brought a colt home past eight she'd force me to eat canned spaghetti until I cried a river which she'd make me wash away all ties to the family with. Oh, and that she'd paint my room pea green and I'd never be her daughter and my cutie mark would be the canned mockery that calls itself real pasta. There was also a lot of cursing."

Sombra's eye twitched. "Your mother sounds lovely."

"She's the kindest mare I know." Cadance smiled brightly. 

"And what is this talk you speak of? Is it a ritual that ponies have?"

Drawing back, Cadance narrowed her eyes again and took a super suspicious and skeptical sip from her nearby milkshake. "Sombra... you know where ponies come from don't you?" 

The slight teasing element in her tone was not lost on Sombra. Yet, he still couldn't help but cock his head to the side and look at her with an equal measure of suspicion. "Do you really take me to be that unaware of ponies? Of course I know. I'm older and smarter than you and hardly a child."

"How'd you find out?"

"A book."

"Okay then, non-pony friend of mine, what was your reaction?"

Sombra made a sound somewhere between a sigh and a snort of disgust before he rested his head in a forehoof and gazed at Cadance with level indifference. Also judgement.

"Horror, to be honest. I never gave too much thought to were ponies came from, other than they weren't magic-based life forms like me and they required both a mare and a stallion to produce a rugrat. I didn't know why until I learned to read."

"...That's slightly underwhelming. I thought your spooky demon magic would have told you."

Sombra gave her a star of mild disgust, exasperation, and judgement. There was minor traces of annoyance too, and that is what drove Sombra to drink. Coffee.

He made a series of disgruntled demon noises afterwards.

Cadance just blinked.

"My magic isn't the answer to everything. At that age, I just pitied mares."

Cadance blinked again. "Uh, why?"

"Giving birth. Do I need to add any more?"

Cadance laughed loudly. "So let's be glad you aren't a mare, eh?"

"I'd make a great mare," Sombra huffed, crossing his forehooves over his chest. "My beauty transcends such a silly barrier that would be being male of female."

Cadance didn't have a response for that.

"You know it's true, Mac. Your silence speaks for itself because you know the power that I have obeys no such biological dictation."

"You'd have an even prettier mane as a mare," Cadance whispered, her gaze distant.

Sombra gave her a look.

Maybe it was a worried look. Maybe it wasn't.

But it was still a look.

In a flash of blue light, Cadance was gone.

> Demon Racist 2: Racist Harder [Bonus Material] [Omake] [Sombra/Cadance] [Friendshipping]
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Do demons have a culture?" Cadance asked, eyes wide with a mix of confusion and curiosity. She stirred a bit of cream into her coffee, the spoon clinking out of rhythm with the music softly playing throughout the diner. Around her, ponies talked quietly and the air shimmered around the princess and her companion, making them seem more far away than usual.

Yet they booth they occupied felt surprisingly normal. Solid. The magic did not affect them.

Seated across from her, Sombra stared at her from the booth seat her occupied. Firefly lanterns twinkled in the twilight outside. Had he refused to sleep through most of the day or make an effort to curb his nocturnal habits, this meeting would have taken place in the actual morning rather than Sombra's morning.

"Not really," he said with a shrug, sipping the black coffee that he had conjured, claiming that it could never be made the way he liked it.

Among the napkins and papers on the booth table, a plate of evening pancakes for Cadance occupied the magic-veiled seat; Sombra's enchantment blurred the lines of perception that caused ponies and other mortals to ignore them while Cady looked at a world filled with vivid reflections and ghosts.

Not real ghosts, of course, but in the place she was now, they felt like ghosts. Ponies.
And one day they would be ghosts; as would she. And Shiny. And-

"And are you going to keep getting existential on me, or are we going to keep doing these little meetings of ours without you getting a vacant look in your eyes and vanishing like last time?"

Instantly, Cadance's purple gaze snapped to Sombra. She tucked a strand of her mane behind her ear. "Y-Yes! Yes we are!" 

Sombra looked upon her smile with indifference and watched her shuffle papers while he set his mug down. Cadance glanced at it. Today it bore the the simple message of 'I' followed by the tell-tale heart to declare one' love for the surprising array of things that can be told on a coffee mug.

Sombra's said 'I  MYSELF (ALSO PIZZA)'.

She didn't question it.

"Why doesn't your species have a culture?" she inquired, tone cheerful and earnest.

Sombra blinked tiredly. His expression was already rather grumpy. He hated mornings. And twilight. And mornings that were twilight. And twilight that served as his mornings. Before answering he briefly contemplated making coffee sacred to him while Cadance muttered about how mainstream the music was.

"Demons aren't like ponies," Sombra began, promptly glaring at Cadance when she interrupted him.

"They're created from magic, yes you told me that. Why don't they have a culture?"

"Maybe if you interrupt me some more, you won't get the answer!" Sombra said, flashing a brilliant, fang-y, and sarcastic smile that Cadance found oddly glamorous in a weird, demon-y way. "There's a thought!"

She was certain demon-y could be a word. Demonic was a word, so demon-y should be too.

Sombra sighed and began anew. "We've been over this before: demons are created, not born. Because of this, there is no stable population - especially when your species isn't composed of social beings with a dreadful her mentality like you ponies have. This would mean that-"

"Can I interrupt?" Cadance asked, curiosity shining in her eyes as she waved her left forehoof in the air a bit, being sure to glance at the papers in front of her to read a line again, just to be sure she hadn't missed something.

"You already did," he mumbled.

"Is it impossible for demons to be born?"

Sombra tilted his head to the side. "What do you mean?"

An impish grin spread across Cadance's face. "If a mommy demon and a daddy demon loved each other very much-"

"Yes, yes, I get the picture!" Sombra snapped, rolling his eyes. "That would be the only way a demon could be born, but there have never been any."

"How do you know that?"

Sombra's expression was completely humorless, but he waved his forehooves in the air before intoning flatly: "I'm magic."

Cadance snorted and grabbed a paper in her forehoof, holding it right in front of Sombra's muzzle. "What about this? I thought up this question in a particularly boring meeting of Auntie's I had to attend this Wednesday."

"I've always been more interesting than any royal duty."

"If by interesting you mean 'insane' then absolutely!" Cadance chirped. "Sooo... how long do demons live?"

Sighing, Sombra snatched up the paper in the grasp of his telekinesis. He glanced at the neat, curly, writing momentarily before passing it back to her in order to answer the call of his coffee.

"'bout the same as ponies, really," he managed while sipping the dark beverage. "But I don't imagine that any in the past would have made it that far. Two centuries is a lifespan, and it's what you do with it that often determines things, yet I still can't envision the average demon - were we to make a lot of assumptions about their nature and typical lifestyle only from what you know of me - would be able to make it past fifty."

"That's awful," Cadance said, with an earnesty that next to none would express towards such a race. "I can't imagine anypony living that short being normal."

"What do you think of mayflies then? They live even shorter lives than that - and there's an understatement if I've ever said one!"

"Mayflies are icky."

"'Icky'," Sombra repeated, giving her yet another look.

"Spiders are worse though. Auntie Luna adores spiders, but all it takes is one look into their creepy little eyes to inspire the deepest despair." To Cadance, the booth suddenly felt much colder and she shuddered.

"Spiders."

"You betcha! They're terrifying! Forget dragons, lich queens, wraiths, and demons-"

"You ponies really haven't changed since the time of the Tribes, you know that?"

"-or anything else. Spiders are going to kill us all. They know exactly where we sleep."

"So do I."

"They have pointy little fang things!" Cadance protested.

"So do I."

"Spiders defy the laws of nature!"

"And once again, so do I."

"But Sombra," Cadance whined, nervously adjusting her crown. "Spiders are vengeful, devious, and otherworldly beings. They're ageless and they power they have over the minds of others is something to fear. The skitter about in the shadows and terrorize the everymare. Spiders are going to kill us all; they're able to bridge the distance between what is mortal and what is a god. Their reign of terror preys on our most primal fears..."

"You're just describing me at this point," Sombra said, taking another sip of his coffee.

The pink princess blinked. "I-I am? ...But you're not a spider. I've never wanted to beg Shiny to hit you with a broom while I cower in fear."

"Wow, you're pathetic."

"It's for everypony's safety, Sombra! Spiders are dangerous and I can't bear to hit them with a broom that isn't on fire."

Sombra narrowed his eyes slightly. "Flaming brooms don't sound that bad... maybe I should try that sometime..."

"I know, eh? Everytime I hear the violent howls of battle and see the fires of madness reflecting in the eyes of one who charges a spider with fire as their friend, I'm reminded of home."

Sombra abruptly swallows a gulp of hot black coffee, but doesn't look as if he felt the burn of the piping hot liquid that dared to think it could wound him. "Alright, now I'm intrigued. How could a sight like that remind you of your home? Didn't you grow up in some dinky hamlet even smaller than where Purple Eyesore lives?"

"Yes," Cadance says, tone light. "I did grow up in a very small village. Nopony in my family liked spiders that much. My father always thought they were only a little gross and was super weird about brushing them onto newspapers - but only after he let me read all the funny pages! - and flicking them outside - but never into the garden where mamma grew her vegetables. Like me, she hated and feared the terrible spiders equally."

Cadance didn't notice that Sombra looked rather intrigued or that his ears pricked forward when her almost dormant accent, dulled with years of living in Canterlot and many lessons, flared up at the particular way she had of referring to her mother.

"What did your mother do about them then, raze the entire bloody village?"

Pulling back at what she perceived as an insult, Cadance stared at Sombra with shock gleaming in her lilac eyes. "No! My mother is the kindest pony I know. She's my hero! She would never hurt anypony who didn't insult her cooking or hurt another pony first - mostly by insulting her cooking. She's the one who always bought me all the best vinyls for my birthday and Hearth's Warming and read to me when I was little. There's no way she'd ever hurt a pony like that, in fact, I think you'd like my mother a lot."

"Uh-huh," Sombra said, not even trying to hide how unconvinced he was. "Are you going to continue to tell me how your mother got rid of spiders then, since I can't resist a tale about a fire of the scale you seem to be implying." He flashed another smile - the kind of smug grin that masterfully communicated that the owner was the one who just lit your house on fire and still had the time to behead each and every one of your tulips. It was brief. It was beautiful. 

"My mother values many things: a good cook, a happy home, an honest pony, a loving family, and the luck of the gods."

"So that's why you're so superstitious," Sombra muttered, pricking his ears forward again.

She nodded at his observation. "But the three things she values most in this world - straight from her own mouth - is her daughter, her flamethrower, and her husband."

Sombra's eyes shone with wicked delight and even a bit of surprise. "Her flamethrower..."

"What did you think she was going to kill spiders with?" Cadance asked, eyes bright and innocent. Her voice was as cheerful as her smile.

And she watched as Sombra nodded ever so slightly in what might have been acceptance.

> Demon Racist 3: Return of the Prejudice [Omake] [Bonus Material] [Awkward Friendshipping] [Shining Armor/Sombra]
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The background noise of the Manehatten diner echoed in the distance, sometimes sounding more far away than it actually was. Rain hit the windows, and the cityscape outside was only further blurred like the rest of the diner's interior, which was thick with magic that only one diner-goer could detect.

Sombra stared across the table, watching the other occupant bite into his lunch: a cooked carrot coated in fried batter and stuck on a stick. It was one of six still left inside the little cardboard container sitting atop the slightly greasy napkins on the otherwise clean table. Salt and pepper shakers glittered with the shimmering world around them, reflecting all the foggy colors.

"So..." the white unicorn stallion mumbled through his food, "...funny seeing you here."

Sombra grunted and lit his horn. Nothing appeared to happen and he continued to watch Shining Armor eat, occasionally pausing to brush crumbs off his purple and gold armor with a few strokes of magic. Then, the white-coated and green-eyed disguise began to fade, revealing Sombra's dark gray coat and crimson eyes. The disheveled mane he never bothered to hide or color anything but black was the only thing other than his build that remained unaltered by his magic.

Well, that and the fangs Sombra never let anypony other than Luna - and occasionally Cadance - see. He looked down at the pizza slice on the metal plate in front of him, outshining the waxy paper it rested upon. 

"I suppose I could say the same thing, Prince Glitterbutt," Sombra said, shrugging slightly and levitating his coffee mug so he could take a sip. It was covered with a series of symbols that the average pony would dismiss as nonsense, but Shining Armor recognized it quickly enough - time spent around Twilight Sparkle taught him to distinguish advanced mathematics when presented with them. Not that he actually knew any...

"I'm here because Cadance is attending a charity gala with Princess Celestia, hosted by the mayor of the city."

"Sounds like it'd be fun to crash that. Oh, and ten bits says she went because she wanted to criticize the music choices."

"Don't even think about it-"

"I already have," Sombra said, smirking slightly before setting his mug down and casting a mildly disgusted glare at Shining's beverage choice.

"And, yes, she did go to comment on the gala's music choice. Hey, why are you staring at my drink like that? Do you have something against cream soda?"

"Considering I'm a vegan, yes. Yes I do."

"You're drinking coffee that you conjured out of thin air in a fast food joint, so how are you any better?"

"Do you even hear yourself speak?" Sombra said, scoffing. "At least I don't have a little brat of a sister who is spoiled by a pain-in-my-ass goddess."

"That goddess is the ruler of a nation that you live in and has branded you as decently terroristic."

"Just because I illegally show up in whatever country I please and have a habit of kidnapping three fourths of their leaders does not make me 'decently' terroristic, it makes me very terroristic."

Shining Armor looked to the ceiling for divine aid that would never come and gulped down half the soda in his glass. His eyes widened a bit when he looked at Sombra.

"Is that blood on your tie?"

"I just got off work," Sombra said simply, shooting Shining Armor a flat stare that bored through the other stallion with such an intensity that Shining almost felt his skin burn.

"...So that's why you're at a Manehatten diner? Because you've quit your shady Mafia dealings for the day?"

"That would be correct. I had a job in this city and was almost surprised to meet you here."

"In the diner?"

"No, not at all. This place suits your excuse for taste very nicely. In the city. I hadn't heard about the gala."

"Hey!" Shining protested, "I bought you that pizza!"

Sombra rolled his eyes and magically adjusted the tie he wore for his job. It was crimson, and simply his usual cloak woven into a different form. The rest of his suit was just black and white with a jacket collar he always had the compulsion to turn up. The last pony who had commented on the habit didn't live very long. "Oh no, the royal guard captain and prissy Crystal Prince is threatening me, a demon god, I'm positively terrified! You only bought me two slices anyway, you cheapskate."

"Says the crazy hobo who shuns currency."

"Money is disgusting. At least I have the decency to steal what I want. I'm a proud hobo, too. Do you really think a silly All Equestrian Colt type like you is going to diminish my hobo pride?"

"I don't think anything can..."

"Exactly!" Sombra exclaimed, slamming a forehoof onto the table's surface.

Shining nervously sipped his cream soda, nodding vigorously and silently praying to every god but Sombra that he might survive this... unusual lunch. "Yep! Your ego's practically infinite!"

"Agreed!"

He almost choked on the soda when Sombra brought his hoof down on the table again, causing it to shake. Sombra didn't care and simply ignored Shining's coughing until it ceased. Shining was silently glad that Sombra had chosen to keep his usual metal boots in the form of bands of silver around his forehooves - whether the two he wore on his hindlegs were simply concealed by his apparel or Sombra wasn't currently wearing them, Shining didn't know.

"What exactly are those things that you're eating?"

"Corndogs," Shining Armor said through a mouthful of the stuff. "It was originally a food developed by the griffons-"

"Griffonstone?"

"No, no - it wasn't that colony, but cities from their empire in the west that made them. Based them off some snack of ours or something but decided that they wanted to be able to sell this stuff to ponies. That meant they needed to change the meat interior to something ponies could eat."

"Meat eating is absolutely revolting," Sombra said, cringing and keeping no venom from his tone.

Shining Armor's response was simply to eat another corndog. "It's natural for some creatures. I mean, yeah, any pony that does it is obviously sick but not every creature is going to have the diet of a pony."

"That doesn't mean I don't find the concept of a carnivore or an omnivore revolting. Those creatures would even dare to put meat on pizza."

"You're certainly a very weird vegan," Shining Armor mused, chewing his corndog in thought.

Sombra rolled his eyes again and glared at Shining, who, after swallowing his latest bite of corndog, picked up on the meaning quickly:

Do you have anything else to say?

It was an indirect threat, a challenge, and an intimidating one at that. Slowly and carefully, Shining Armor swallowed his corndog. He gingerly placed the stick it had been on down and began to shakily levitate another from the pile. Only four corndogs remained. Sweat trickled down his brow.

Sombra continued to stare at him, the mysterious demon's glare never wavering.

"So, uh, lovely weather we're having?"

Sombra bobbed his head in a small nod. Shining Armor couldn't tell if he was joking or not. In search of any kind of distraction and sudden topic-changer, Shining Armor's blue eyes darted to any and everything he thought would make an adequate thing to discuss.

The windows were a bit dirty.

The cashier looked clinically depressed.

The waitress attending another table looked unusually happy. Had she drained all the emotions from the former?

Shining Armor settled on looking meaningfully upon what was likely a grease stain on the ceiling. "These kinds of places bring back memories."

Sombra made a small sound in the back of his throat as acknowledgement, but his focus was occupied by a stack of papers he had conjured and was browsing through.

"I always loved going out to places like this with Twily and Cady. Diners in Canterlot were always nicer, but gods I love going to them and trying to find all the differences, y'know? Twily and I used to make into a game and we'd try to steal one another's fries and... HEY!"

"Wut?" Sombra grumbled the garbled word through a mouthful of the medium hayfries that Shining Armor had ordered.

Shining almost did a double take when he looked at the contents - or near lack of - the cardboard fry container. "Y-You... just how many of those can you fit in your mouth?! Is it, like, a pocket dimension? Did Cady teach you the art of fry stealing? She's always taking my fries - even if they're cold! Who in their right mind steals cold fries? From their own husband? Oh gods, is this some weird demon spell of yours? "

Sombra's speech and assorted demon noises were largely unintelligible due to the large amount of hayfries he had crammed into his mouth, and yet, if Shining Armor had listened carefully he might have heard something like 'demon racist' through it all.

But he was too busy mourning his fries. "By the sun and moon, Cady taught Luna about hayburgers and fry stealing, and they decided to get you in on it, didn't they? Everypony - and the demon - team up on good ol' Shiny so they can steal his fries! What kind of world is this when a stallion can no longer enjoy fries without his wife, a goddess, and a demon stealing something as sacred as fries?"

"These don't even have sea salt on them, you lout." Most of what Sombra said was still a bit obscured from fries, but his message was clear. Shining Armor simply ranted on, oblivious to Sombra's superior point.

"This nation is built on friendship, lawfulness, and harmony! Fry thieves do not fit into either of those things."

Sombra busied himself by taking the rest of the distracted Shining Armor's fries and setting a few napkins on fire, watching with great interest as the ashes hit the pale surface of wax paper.

'I joined the guard in order to defend against criminal scum like you, but here I am, nice ol' Shiny buying you lunch-"

"I threatened to kill your family if you didn't. Except Pink One. She doesn't need to be threatened into buying me nice things... as often. Shows how horrid a friend you are."

"-and you repay me by stealing something as pure as my humble serving of hayfries, eh?"

"Fight me." 

And as Shining Armor ranted on, Sombra busied himself with the task of eating his second pizza slice. It didn't even have any toppings. He had asked for toppings. Eight times. What did he get? No toppings.

"All my life, I've done nothing but abide by the rules, help others, and do good to my fellow pony."

"You're taking this far too seriously. If this topic was anywhere near as important as pizza toppings, me, or anything even half worthy of this kind of rant, I'd be marginally more understanding. The 'bordering on potentially tolerant and not letting you go on purely for my amusement and your pain' kind of understanding. This is just one of the many flavors of understanding that you have yet to learn in this world, Shimmerass. All are part of a larger whole, much like pizza, and yet these small differences come to describe us. ALMOST LIKE THE BLASTED TOPPINGS I KEPT ASKING YOU FOR!"

Sombra finished the last bite of pizza angrily and with a vengeance that snapped Shining Armor from his soliloquy and left him shaking in his seat, eyes wide.

When he opened his mouth to speak, Sombra growled and shoved a paper toward him. Shining's magenta magic flared up and accepted it cautiously. "Since Pink One isn't here to provide intelligible conversation and I'm stuck here with an oaf like you, you're going to be doing whatever I want you to until I decide you've tried my patience to much. Got it?"

Shining Armor hugged the paper Sombra gave him to his breastplate, unable to meet Sombra's fiery gaze and harsh tone. "...Do you just want me to buy you an ice cream cone as an apology?"

"I'M A DAMNED VEGAN!"

"Sorry!" Shining yelped, finally taking a look at the paper. "Oh... this is because I was talking about what my foalhood was like, huh? So you and Cady just talk about this weird stuff... I guess I shouldn't be to surprised, eh? She's always loved horror-"

"I'm beautiful," Sombra snapped.

Shining Armor ignored him, offering only an awkward, sheepish smile as a reply. "I'm not exactly the pony best to judge that. So-" He cleared his throat, coughing slightly in the process, "your paper here says that all demons are at least ten years of age. I don't know much about demons - not like Cady and Princess Luna - but could we just pretend I do?"

"Maybe."

"How'd you find this out?"

"Demon, god-being, and magical genius. Perhaps those had something to do with it?"

"Ah-hah. Got it, so then, does this mean you were first created with the mind and body of a ten year old?"

"I was fourteen."

"It says that all demons are-"

Sombra growled and facehoofed. "No, it says at least. Not exactly. Have you ever considered observing the details of something?"

Shining Armor was quiet, and at the moment he looked like he was going to speak again, Sombra snatched his paper back and promptly sat up. He shuffled it in with the others in the stack he still had out, shoved a few of the little plastic jelly thingies into an interior pocket of his suit and lit his horn, reconstructing the colors of his disguise in moments. 

"You and your family annoy me endlessly with your idiocy, Gleaming Sprinkle."

Making sure he had the last word, Sombra teleported away and the magical barriers reminiscent of an incomplete pocket dimension or a washed out expressionist landscape painting dissolved around him the instant the demon disappeared.

"...You're welcome for the free lunch?" 

When he received no reply, Shining Armor busied himself with eating corndogs once more.

Alone.
> Demon Racist 4: What's the Deal With Demon Aging? [Omake] [Bonus Material] [Barely Tolerant Friendshipping] [Shining Armor/Sombra] [Cadance/Sombra] [Friendshipping]
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cadance sat down on the grass and her horn lit up with sparkling blue aura. Humming cheerily, she tugged the picnic basket open with her magic and began to withdraw the contents. The grass she sat on was a picturesque spring green still shining with traces of morning dew that lingered longer the farther one went up Canterhorn Mountain. A soft, cool breeze blew, rustling the sparse plant life other than grass: a cluster of bushes and a few trees.

"Why in the name of my incredible good looks are we sitting in the grass and having a bloody picnic?"

Lifting her head, Cadance stared at Sombra, who sat lay prone a few paces away from her, a book balanced in his forehooves. "When I wrote to you that I would be visiting Canterlot, you mentioned that you wouldn't mind having lunch with me."

"And why does this mean you think you can just show up on my mountain and start setting up a picnic?" Sombra growled softly, though not menacingly, and bit down hard on the gum Cadance saw he was chewing. She didn't have to ask to know that it was mint, the sweetest thing that she knew Sombra would eat.

"You said you weren't going to pay for lunch."

"I did." Cadance noted that Sombra looked surprisingly calm, his crimson eyes trained on her. They were always watching and searching for something.

"That's why I packed a lunch!" Cadance said, smiling widely and proudly levitating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

Sombra stared at them boredly, using a forehoof to mark his place in the book he was reading so the breeze would not disturb his reading. "I do hope that you're aware that I am twenty four not four, nor have I ever been four."

Inhaling quietly, Cadance prepared to drop the sandwiches she had so carefully wrapped and tied with glittery little ribbons - she had at least noticed Sombra nod in acknowledgement that signified some level of approval over that small detail - a wave of gloom sweeping across her face.

"B-But-"

"Are you having a picnic with Sombra?"

Both Cadance and Sombra turned to look at the third voice. The former whimpered ever so slightly, lip quivering while the latter only offered a mild scowl to the newcomer that he had sensed arriving.

"Shiny, PB&J is a totally cool lunch, isn't it?"

Shining Armor stood at the barely worn trail that led to the secluded part of Canterhorn Mountain where Sombra lived, and blinked at Cadance's minor outburst. "Umm..."

"Tell Sombra how amazing PB&J is!"

"Cady, I thought that you said peanut butter and jelly sandwiches was a snack option that you, uh, considered too..." Shining gulped and looked around quickly. Sombra made a small tch-ing noise in the back of his throat upon seeing that the Crystal Prince was unable to search for an escape route discreetly.

"...too mainstream," Shining finished carefully pronouncing the word as though it wore forbidden.

Cadance's face reddened slightly in response and Sombra's ears pricked forward to catch a small gasp. "Shiny! By Luna, Celestia, and all of Equestria! What did I tell you and Twily about using the m-word? I've met both your parents - my lovely in-laws - so I know you were raised better"

"But-" He looked to Sombra, eyes pleading, that for once, they could put aside their differences and that the demon would offer up his assistance just this once to save him, as any friend would do-

"Not happening," Sombra said coldly, the white unicorn's thoughts spelled out plainly to him. He returned to the place in his book where his forehoof had rested without much else, but still kept his ears pricked forward so he could hear all the drama that played out.

Shocked, Shining Armor attempted to glare at Sombra, mouthing 'cold blooded' in his discretion and facing his wife's (surprisingly mild) wrath alone.

"That is a dirty word, Shiny!"

"Listen Cady-"

"No, Shiny, you listen!" Cadance was standing now, stamping one gold-shod hoof against the ground. A nearby dandelion quivered at her strength. "You showed up to lunch late-"

"Really, Pink One? Inviting him? I may be egotistical, but even I don't need to pick on my inferiors to shallowly raise self esteem and fuel thoughts of superiority that aren't earnest - unlike mine. The thought is still appreciated, but I'll remind you that if we invite Sadsack Armor to lunch, there will be less for us - and that can't be tolerated."

When Cadance didn't respond, Sombra lifted his head, messy black bangs falling into his eyes as he watched the scene in front of him unfold. The start of an amused smirk had begun to show on his face.

"This trip was supposed to be a nice way to spend time with our family and friends and you can't even show up to lunch on time! I made a r-really nice lunch and everything-"

"Cady," Shining Armor interjected.

"No, this is important! Lunch is the second most important meal of the day! Shiny, where are your priorities? You only listen to one kind of music, corndogs are your favorite food - Shiny, I think we need to get our lives together!"

Sombra had marked his page once more, quietly closing his book so he could watch the two of them bicker. There would always be time to brush up on his Germane later, but for now, he was too tempted by the siren song of schadenfreude and the cool wind stirring his mane to pay attention to much else.

"Cady, what do you mean? Our lives are fine, and it isn't like corndogs are that bad - you should just try one!"

"Corndogs are evil!" Cadance shouted back. "Isn't that right, Sombra?"

The small smirk Sombra had widened. "Yes, I can confirm that corndogs are in fact, laced with dark magic that will cause you to rot from the inside out as years wear on. Glitter Sprinkle will gradually become corrupted if his consumption of such a disgusting excuse for a snack food continues."

"Well, you like to eat pizza for breakfast!" 

Sombra snorted. "Damn right I do. Not sure how you know but..."

Cadance snapped her attention to her husband, mouth in a wide 'o' of shock. "Shiny! Do you know how insensitive that was to Sombra? He just gave you life saving advice!"

Both Cadance and Sombra watched Shining Armor's bewildered expression in silence. The sound of the facehoof that followed seemed to reverberate.

Cadance bit her lip and Sombra's eyes followed Shining Armor's movements as he walked back down the mountain, the same expression still on his face, blue eyes clouded with confusion. Sombra heard him muttering under his breath as he went, but the exact words went unheard.

As soon as he was gone, Sombra indulged in a triumphant smirk and Cadance began to burst with giggles. The latter trotted over to the former, a spring in her step. When she got too close for Sombra's comfort, Sombra's smirk disappeared, but he looked calm enough to be approachable - at least, by the standards of his friend.

She offered her forehoof, holding the gold-shod limb in the air and waiting. Sombra simply stared for a moment, unsure of what to do.

"C'mon Sombra, don't leave me hanging. You know how to hoofbump, don't you?"

She saw his eye twitch slightly, and though his sigh was obvious, it was an amused sigh instead of an annoyed one. He lifted his own forehoof - his left - and bumped it against hers with a small eye roll that she caught through the black bangs that had fallen into his eyes again. Silver metal met gold, and for that moment, their evil was celebrated.

"Congrats, Mac, you've managed to go from an almost complete goody four horseshoes to barely nefarious."

"Hooray!" Cadance cheered, grinning like a filly who had only just got her cutie mark. Sombra watched her jump and squee, feathers rustling, with deadpan indifference.

"We really need to work on your celebratory abilities, Sombra! I'm barely nefarious now, which is, like, completely evil!"

"Sure it is."

"I know, eh?" Her smile was sparkling and cloud white. "So what demon facts do you have to share with me now that Shiny's gone?"

"And I'm the cold hearted one? You just ditched your husband."

Cadance hastily swallowed a PB&J sandwich that she had unwrapped at an even hastier pace in the instant between her responses to Sombra. "You helped... and he's no fun at Demon Fact Club!"

"We are not calling our meetings that. 'League of Demon Enthusiasts' is far more fitting."

"I'm an enthusiast!" Cadance cheered, gagging on a piece of her sandwich at the last minute.

Sombra glared at her until she stopped coughing. "This is what happens when you doubt my naming ability."

"You named your pet fish 'Fish'."

"It's a brilliant name! Just shut up and sit down. Your Uncle Sombra has a lovely array of demon facts for you today."

Cadance obeyed, plopping onto a nearby patch of grass. She continued to munch on her sandwich and watched with wide lilac eyes as Sombra conjured a familiar stack of papers from wherever he had left them. She levitated the temporarily forgotten basket over to her, withdrawing a cold soda from inside. The glass bottle still shone with magic-held moisture. A bag of ketchup chips followed.

Sombra cast a brief, mildly offended glare, at the food and pulled his book close. Cadance watched as he shuffled the papers he held in his magic and rested a protective forehoof on the cover of the book - she couldn't read the title, it was one of the foreign languages she was entirely unfamiliar with.



...



"Don't demons age like ponies?"

"For the most part they do. When a Shadow - that's what a summoner and demons are called collectively - is created, a new body is as well. That body matches up with one of the demon's souls in terms of physical and mental age. That demon is the most dominant is usually the one that the body 'belongs to'."

"Demons are weird."

"You should know that by now. Bad Pink One." He lightly bopped her on the head with his book.

Cadance took a long swig of soda after recovering from the mortal blow. "How were you able to gather so much information about a species with only one member left? Doesn't that make you practically extinct?"

Sombra nodded, swallowing his gum. "More or less. I'm going to try and make sure that there's never another demon again. As for gathering information? Being the god of knowledge makes it very easy to browse the copy of the Book that still exists in my head."

"Ohmigosh you have a head book? A mind book?" Cadance leaned forward, eyes wide and ponytail swishing. 

Sombra growled softly and meanly until she pulled back, nervously tugging her ponytail, pink coat blanched a few shades lighter so that her blue bow seemed even brighter.

"Sorry," she whispered, averting her eyes and meekly levitating a chip into her mouth.

The intensity of Sombra's glare increased.

Cadance gulped, nervously levitating a chip into her mouth... only to find that the chip bag wasn't there. Her breathing felt shallower at the sight of bare ground where her precious chip baby had once been-

-and then she heard a crunch.

She looked at Sombra, mouth hanging open, but no sound escaping. He smirked and smugly crunched on another victory chip.

Except for the sound of ketchup chips being eaten, the only sounds around the demon god and speechless demigoddess were that of the wind and an arrogance so astounding it was practically audible.

> Demon Racist 5: When You Wish Upon a Demon [Omake] [Bonus Material] [Passive Aggressive Friendshipping] [Shining Armor/Sombra]
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Shining Armor sucked in a deep breath, but did not dare to sigh in relief. The gleaming edge of a silver scimitar could be felt along his throat, the strike from the dark just narrowly avoiding an actual cut. When Shining saw the red crystal veins on it, he knew that the miss was on purpose.

Starlight poured through the Canterlot streets, but there was no visible form to pierce the night-dark sky, only a familiar sword gleaming at his throat and the owner, lurking in shadow.

"Are you seriously trying to rob me at swordpoint, Sombra?" All I wanted was a nice visit with my family, Shining thought, not have the world's sassiest nutcase decide to pay me a visit on a late night stroll.

"I am. Now, fork them over."

Shining Armor blinks, deciding to humor the demon. "Fork what over? I have barely any bits on me."

"Exactly. I wouldn't try and hassle somepony if I thought they were carrying a large sum of bits."

"Are you ever going to make sense?"

In the darkness, Shining Armor thought he heard a snort. 

"Are you ever going to make sense?" came the scarily perfect mimicry of his voice that made Shining Armor blanched an even paler shade of white than his coat.

"H-How did you do that?"

"Demon magic," Sombra quips, still replicating Shining's voice perfectly.

Looking around for other ponies silhouettes in the peaceful, dark street, Shining was relieved to find that there were none on this particular street and that the sight of him and Sombra together wouldn't be a spectacle, nor would their exchange be relayed to the more gossipy social circles of Canterlot.

"Okay, but could you cut it out?" Shining said, gritting his teeth.

"And what would I get out of it if I did, Glitter Sprinkle?"

For a solid fifteen seconds, that question consumed Shining Armor. What could he offer a morally dubious demon? Should he give in or...?

With a defeated sigh, the white unicorn reached into the small saddlebag at his side. He had hoped the darkness would conceal it from Sombra's eyes, but it was not to be so.

"Here," he said, levitating a modest amount of bits and what looked to be tickets in Sombra's direction.

A crimson aura sparking to life immediately revealed Sombra's hooded form. Though he was still dimly lit and blending in with the murky night hues of the street, his eyes, wide with intrigue gleamed in the dark as he snatched up the prize.

"Your begrudging donation to my insanity and superior lifestyle is much appreciated." 

Shining Armor stared at him tiredly, wondering how he could make even the tone of his voice sound as if it were smirking too.

"However..." Sombra's aura waved the slips of paper about in front of Shining's eyes. "I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do with these."

"They're coupons," Shining Armor said tiredly. "You can get free pizza with them."

Sombra frowned. "I already do that."

"You can get free pizza legally using those," Shining Armor corrected.

"You realize that most laws are more like guidelines, don't you? As long as you can defend your position against them and secure whatever it is that you seek as well as manage a proper escape, tell me just who's going to stop you?"

Immediately opening his mouth to protest, Shining Armor found himself cut off by a smug wave of the demon's hoof.

"I mean, really, if I can get away with arson, theft, and harassment in the same day while jaywalking on my merry way back to my residence of choice then what exactly are your mediocre laws and supposed enforcement accomplishing when I'm still only just not considered the most wanted entity to still walk the planet?"

"When could you have gotten away with all those things in the same day?!"

"Today," Sombra said flatly. "But I'm still a bit confused over what it is you think I'll end up doing with these 'coupons' since I literally get what I want in terms of pizza simply by abusing power."

"There's free soda too. Don't you like soda?"

"No."

"Breadsticks?"

"No."

"Uhh... those little mints by the cash register?"

"You aren't even trying to convince me to use lawful means to obtain the edible salvation that is pizza anymore, are you? Plus, those suckers are free. Everypony knows that."

Sombra smugly watched as Shining Armor facehoofed. "It's after midnight, Sombra, sane ponies would usually be in bed, and the only reason that I'm walking to a twenty four hour pizza place at this hour is because-"

"Pink One put you on a diet."

"She told you?!" Shining Armor didn't notice that Sombra had snatched the coupons back, stuffing them into some interior pocket of his cloak.

"No, but you did."

Sombra's ears pricked forward to catch the sound of a groan and another facehoof. "I hate you, Sombra."

"You're not my type, anyway. And you're married, so even if I had no standards were, you're safe."

"Wait, you-"

"I'm not like you're little sister, one Miss Bilight Sparkle, if that's what you're asking, but I suggest that you head back home to mummy and daddy's house and you can forget that this ever happened. Won't that be nice?"

"Urgh, your condescending asshole behavior actually has a point this time, doesn't it?" 

"When doesn't it?"

"...You know what? I'm not going to answer that one."

Sombra shook his head, and it was impossible to miss the shining white teeth revealed by his smirk. Shining knew, even in his weary state, that Sombra had fangs, but some unspoken rule led to the fact that Sombra disguised his fangs - for what reason, he didn't know - outside of the few occasions Shining saw him. It wasn't something he pressed either. Or questioned - Shining thought it was best not to question Sombra or try to understand what he did. Sombra was crazy, end of story.

"What is your brilliant plan now, Captain? I have my prize and there's nothing that you can do about it. So are you off to wallow in the fact that Pink One of all ponies has you on a diet that you have resigned yourself to?"

Looking down to the ground instantly, Shining began to attempt mumbling out a proper excuse. "Well, you see... Uh... Okay... So... Don't you normally just talk to ponies about how wonderful you are and bizarre your species is?"

"Sometimes. What's it to you?"

Shining gave a long sigh. "I wish I was anywhere but with you, okay? You're a nutcase and I'm not even sure if I can begin to describe the headaches I get around you and just how... urgh, 'abnormal' is the only word I can think of this late... the things you say are."

"Do you really think that attempting to bore me to death with your whining is going to make me pity you and give you a slice of pizza?"

"I'm so exhausted I might just beg at your hooves for it."

Sombra blinked and looked down at the shorter stallion. "Glitter Sprinkle, you are by far one of the most pathetic things to ever walk the world. Your candy golem of a wife is still less yellow than you are and she is made of candy some bloke enchanted and stuck a slightly pretty wig on-"

"What are we even talking about anymore?"

"So, if you didn't interrupt me I might actually not tell Mac about just how downright obnoxious your behavior has been and that you were out past midnight with a cloaked stallion-"

"Gods - you excluded, of course - you'd really try to imply that, Sombra?! That's low! it doesn't even make sense! I'm-"

"I know, I know. The sheer amount of heterosexuality that you radiate is actually somewhat annoying. I could break into your bedroom and write 'I'm gay' on you in your own blood and I'm sure that somewhere in the universe a planet would implode just because of how straight you are and by morning that message would read 'I'm straight' by its will alone."

"What even..."

"It'd be all your fault too. Even your wife isn't as straight as you."

"Oh gods, I have literally no idea about what's even happening anymore."

Sombra snorted. "Really? I wouldn't have guessed. But in all seriousness, I wasn't even sure that it was possible for anything to be as straight as you were."

"Are you harassing me?" Shining Armor asked incredulously. "For being straight? Who would harass a pony for something like that? Better yet, why would you harass somepony in the majority of a demographic? That generally goes against the very concept of what harassment even is."

"Damn, you are thinking way too hard about this. I'm definitely never going to invite you to any parties."

Shining Armor's half-glazed stare was a silent signal to Sombra that the Crystal Prince had absolutely lost his marbles.

All of them.

"You see, harassment is just the bullying of somepony - usually somepony in a minority or the odd pony out - up to eleven."

"I never would have guessed."

"So the fact that you are attempting to harass me for being straight despite no longer taking violent action against me makes no sense."

"You're sort of a tragedy on some existential level, aren't you?" Sombra tossed a lock of his mane that was protruding from his hood back under the fabric, and engulfed his entire sword in a flash of magic so that the blade was reduced to a very menacing dagger which he began to pick his teeth with while leaning on a nearby wall and slyly taking in the sight of the ranting unicorn pony.

"Not to mention that I'm pretty sure that you count as a minority since you're the last of your kind. That means that I should be the one harassing you."

"You and everypony else. Now, do go on. It isn't like I have anywhere better to be at three in the morning."

"So, Sombra, all your actions this night are completely illogical."

"The very slight implication that you stalk me - as false as it is - and the fact that you're suggesting that I be harassed by you is the very definition of racist. Demon racist."

"And that's why you're a complete nutcase!" Shining Armor declared, standing as straight as he could with all the proudness one could muster at the hour.

"The relation between you and your sister is painfully obvious. Was your entire family just dumped down this mountain to give all the offspring from the time of this nation's founding to the unknown future all the brain damage that anypony could ever want and more? If I weren't talking about ponies the sheer amount of just how unethical that is would almost be surprising."

Shining Armor blinked his eyes tiredly, whipping his head in either direction as surprise and confusion dominated his features. "W-Wait? What was I doing? Oh gods, what time is it? Why do I feel like I'm almost hungover? Just what has-"

Sombra smirked widely. "You were telling me just how much you loved me with all your heart and how you'd do anything for me and go to the end of the world just please me because the undying love you have for me demands it."

"I hate you."

"Ooh, are you mad? What do you think scrunching your muzzle at me is going to do? Come on, what are you gonna do? I literally just robbed you."

"Shit," Shining Armor hissed.

Sombra poked his dagger in the prince's direction. "Do tell me what you're going to do, after all, I only have eternity to wait for an answer. So what's it going to be? You going to throw your wife at me again, huh? Is that what this is going to boil down to?"

Shining Armor brought a hoof to his face both so he could facehoof and to disguise his completely masculine defeated sobs in the most eloquent way possible.

"You have no idea how much I wish that the Crystal Heart killed you and your summoner."

Sombra tensed up at the mention of a summoner but otherwise remained undaunted by the less than pathetic attempts to insult him. "Wishing for things rarely ever gets you what you want - and even if your wish is granted, it's usually in every way you never wanted it to be. I'd add something like 'wouldn't you say so' to that, but it's clear that you're beyond any coherent responses and that most discussions that we have that won't be entirely dominated by ego and cruel desire to see you humiliate yourself on oh-so-many levels along with my better judgement is telling me otherwise."

"You no-good son of a bitch," Shining hissed through gritted teeth, exhaustion giving him a slightly feral demeanor.

Sombra only chuckled mirthlessly. "'No-good' I am, but a son of a bitch? Demon. No parents. I'm a bastard and we both know it. All demons are bastards. Demons are a lot like wishes too, in a very ironic way. I mean, look at you. You're disgusting. Creatures like you have to attempt to claw their way to what they believe is true irony. But me? I was created ironic. I am irony itself. But you? You're scum."

A choked noise died in Shining Armor's throat. "...I-I think I'll just go home now."

"That's right, run crying back to your mother and write about how awful I am in your diary while some of Mac's edgy music plays in the background. All this will be a futile attempt to fill the void in your soul, whoreson."

Shining Armor gulped a shaky breath of air, threw up a forehoof in a clear 'I'm done' gesture and began to walk back the way he came.

"Oh, and say hi to your wife for me, you filthy piece of ponyflesh!"

> Demon Racist Finale: DON'T TRIGGER THE DEMONS! [Bonus Material] [Omake] [Friendshipping] [Cadance/Sombra]
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cadance sipped her tea thoughtfully and tried to look poised while sitting on top of an old beach towel that she had spread across the green mountain grass. Fluffy clouds drifted across the sky, sunlight skirting their silver-edged surfaces and coming to illuminate the bag of ketchup chips resting at her forehooves like a sleeping foal or loyal pet. It made crinkly noises when she stroked it softly, cooing to it on occasions when she thought there wasn't anypony watching.

Sombra just glared at her and sipped coffee, mumbling weather complaints between each one.

"So what's the demon topic of the day?" Cadance asked brightly, her smile white and clear in her aunt's sunlight. It also showed off a bit of ketchup chip that was stuck in her front teeth nicely.

Sombra narrowed his eyes even further. "Why don't you try rephrasing that before I even consider continuing this discussion?"

"Yes, Uncle Sombra!" Cadance chirped, quickly withdrawing a chip from the depths of the chip bag and promptly stuffing it in her face as a look of brief contemplation crossed her face. "What is the topic of the day... that just so happens to deal with demons... that we will be discussing on this visit?"

Sombra rolled his eyes at the attempt. "I suppose that's passable. Today, I put together a topic that would have been difficult to explain if you lived in any society other than this Equestria."

Cadance blinked. "This Equestria? Does that mean there were more?"

Sombra's low growl mixed with an annoyed sigh. "I see I'll need to put history lessons in our visits too, my sometimes-apprentice."

Cadance giggled into a forehoof and pointed the other at the small pile of papers that looked as though they were mostly made up of scrawled footnotes in Sombra's legible-but-rough writing. "Is that your research? What's it on?"

Though she was never nearly as bright and witty as Luna, Cadance at least was eager even if she lacked the intellectual edge that Luna and Sombra himself had. She was still nice enough company and a very amusing 'sometimes apprentice'.

"It's not on any of my usual topics since this is by far the least magic-related of all the things we've discussed."

Confusion and a bit of nervous apprehension crossed Cadance's faces. "Is it about how that one place I got pizza from didn't have pineapple as a topping option?"

"No, it isn't. Do you have any knowledge of psychology or any related fields at all?"

Stuffing her mouth with a few extra chips, Cadance smiled and bobbed her head in a nod. Her colorful mane bounced, but didn't hide her glowing horn as her magic reached for the root beer she had pushed of to the side.

"Yeppers," she said through a mouthful of chips and root beer, "I took psychology in my village's high school because I thought it would make me a better matchmaker for my friends. It, uh, didn't. Not by a long shot. I learned a lot about foals though, which certainly helped out later in Canterlot. But I've been curious about the subject since our adventures together - that and being the princess of love and all - so I've been trying to dabble on the subject with imported papers on studies, y'know?"

"Tch. You're free to admit that this nation heavily censors things because Celestia says it doesn't match 'Equestrian morals' and then brushed it under the rug at any time."

Huffing, Cadance chugged the rest of her drink as passive-aggressively as she could manage. "I get it, Sombra hates Equestria, but could we please talk about what you wrote down? I'm a bit morbidly curious on what you wrote down."

"You didn't tell me that ponies have genders."

If Cadance hadn't swallowed her soda, the both of them knew that she would have done a spit-take. "What?!"

"When I possessed Twilight and Luna and looked into the mind of Onyx, I found a part of their mind that I didn't have. It took an incredibly long time to figure out what that was, but it's something that ponies call 'gender' as if it isn't enough for them to just have a sex. When I looked into it more - I've been trying to do as much research on the matter since before our visits began, but it got pushed to the side with the amount of magic-based studies I was doing. Yet the more I looked into what a gender was, the more it was quite clear that it would be impossible for a demon to have one, or just any entity that started out in the non-physical state that I did."

Cadance nodded slowly, but the confusion in her eyes didn't vanish. "Does that mean demons are transgender?"

"No, it means we're - I - am genderless, which explains a couple of things - nothing major, but it's... well, it's certainly interesting. Why would your species even need them?"

"I've got no idea. I'm not the Princess of Genders, Sombra."

"There should be a princess of genders."

Cadance just ignored the remark - answering it would make things far more complicated even for a conversation with Sombra. "If you don't have a gender, then why do you refer to yourself as 'he'?"

"Well..." Sombra cast a quick glance at his papers. "I'm not sure if I'll be able to explain this to somepony as... equine as you. Yes, I know I'm an equine too, but you're just so obviously a pony, to keep things brief. To start: in my most simple form, I'm neither shadow nor equinoid, but a non-physical entity. The first time I was in this form is in the moment of my creation before my equinoid form was finalized. The second is when my physical body was stripped away from me and I was banished - it's part of how I was able to survive being in such a state: it wasn't unnatural for me. I can't slip into it as easily as I can my others, and I haven't figured out a way to slip into it at will. Being in that form isn't being 'reduced' to anything since it'll still be me - just different in how I function in things like communication. Using magic would be very different for me too."

"So then why do you refer to yourself as male, if you don't mind me asking again?"

Sombra looked at Cadance. "Those are two different questions, and I'll answer both for you, Chatty Niece, but don't interrupt me from here on out. Got it?"

She nodded.

"Good. As for your first question: Onyx called me male. From the very beginning of things, he kept refferring to me as 'he' and so forth. From what I could gather at the time, it was something to tell the sexes apart, which seemed simple enough. However, I never understood why you let that bleed into your society so much to the point where you would have two words for the exact same thing or address a creature by whether they were male or female. A lord and a lady are very much the same thing. From the perspective of one who loves to learn languages as I do, I can understand a few uses for this. But just as a living, breathing creature? I don't really grasp the concept that well. I refer to myself as male because I am physically male, that is all. If I needed or desired to, I could try to master very advanced magic that would be able to make my equinoid form that of a mare-"

"Sorry, sorry! I know you said no interruptions, but you could make yourself a mare?!"

Sombra gave a grumpy sigh and blew a lock of his mane out of his face. "Yes. It'd take centuries of practice and don't even get me started about how complicated the matters of chromosomes would be, but I would be able to expend the immense amount of magic to throw myself into the very complicated and advanced - for me, not you; it'd be impossible for you - matter of 'flipping' the sex of my equinoid form - which would also change my voice, of course. For me, this wouldn't exactly be 'natural'... but it wouldn't be unnatural either."

Swallowing a chip sharply, Cadance looked at Sombra with wide eyes. "This is pretty deep stuff, yo."

Flicking an offending tuft of dandelion with his magic, Sombra gave a good-natured roll of his eyes. "'Deep' indeed. Now can I continue without your immensely less interesting commentary?"

"Yesdemon."

Sombra's glare found its pink target. "What was that?"

"You don't like 'sir', so I used 'demon'. Nifty, eh?" Cadance smiled awkwardly.

Sombra kept glaring at her. "No."

"But you call yourself a lord-"

"Only ironically."

"Gotcha."

Sombra cleared his throat. "You had better. Now, your second question is simple: I am physically male, so I call myself male."

"And if you weren't?"

Sombra's eye twitched and he held back the urge to light her chip bag up with dark fire. "Then I'd refer to myself as female if I were physically female. This isn't difficult to figure out if you were to put your candy floss brain to use."

"Hey, I do put my brain to use! Just last night I listened to seven vinyls back to back and debated the meaning of life with Shiny."

"How many bags of cheese puffs did you eat?"

"Gosh, Sombra, I wasn't that high, okay? It was just me and Shiny talking about life and listening to real music-"

"I thought you called it 'alternative'. Now, I'm not that familiar with modern music - or music at all - but wouldn't that mean that there's other options?"

"ALL REAL MUSIC IS ALTERNATIVE!"

A faint eye twitch from Sombra. "I'm sure it is, so just how many times did you devolve into shouting that various dairy products were holograms after rambling about the nature of life according to you?"

Cadance crossed her forehooves over her chest. "I. Wasn't. That. High."

"You were and we both know it."

"I wasn't!"

Sombra smiled as arrogantly as possible at Cadance. "Listen, Mac, we both know that you were absolutely blazed and probably can't even recall half the songs you were listening to last night."

Cadance's head drooped. "So what if I was?"

"I think the real question is just how many bags of chips you have in your saddlebags there." Sombra nodded in the direction of her pink saddlebags. Crystal heart fasteners gleamed in sunlight and dozens of dorky charms jangled as a pink forehoof pushed them out of the way in a pointless attempt to conceal the bulging bags that crinkled with hidden stores of ketchup when she touched them.

"A-A few, I guess, I mean-"

"We both know that's not all you have in there."

"Well, there's some magazines since I was going to browse some of the shops for summer hats-"

"Mac," Sombra said, roguish smile widening, "you know that's not what I'm talking about."

"I-"

"How much?"

"M-More than enough... b-but-"

"But what?" Sombra inquired, raising a knowing eyebrow.

"W-Why do you wanna-"

Sombra laughed, and Cadance found the sound to be surprisingly nice. "Why not?"

Cadance looked up, something like determination in her eyes and she reached into the saddlebags with all the fierceness of the warriors of old, the clang of charms that even most teenage fillies might reject as foalish her battle song, the crinkle of chip bags her war cry. 

"Let's do this."

> Pri(n)celess [Cancelled]
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Princess Platinum, like all of the Unicorn Royalty before her, was a mostly insufferable brat. Her muzzle was always scrunched up with disdain and turned upwards with contempt, but this was not an unusual gait for any who dwelled in the cold, unforgiving stone stronghold that was the unicorn's castle in the near-barren Tribelands.

She stumbled down dim halls after the adults when she could escape her nurse, following in her mother's hoofsteps not because she cared for her - Platinum was a proper filly and was indulged with no silly notions by any of the castle staff, or her mother, Queen Vitalis. She was raised to be a proper unicorn after all. Even at the tender age of four winters old she knew that only three things mattered: the blood in her veins that marked her as royalty, the gold of her family, horn on her head - but not magic, which was a mad notion for those below her since her crown would get her what she wanted.

She heard this and much more whispered in the hall by noblemares and stallions rushing about with servants rushing blindly to their every need, never questioning an order as was proper. Platinum was a good filly, and in her time a good filly was a little filly like her - spoiled beyond belief and rotten to her very core, as cold as the metal for which her and her father before her and his father before him were all named.

Platinum looked like her father too. Her luminous white mane, a trait that named her sire before she spoke his name, grew long and spilled over her withers and brow, helped in part by the long grooming sessions that maids made her endure, brushing out each tangle that they were allowed to keep in their own non-stop, ignoring the young filly's constant cries not to pull so hard. But those ceased after a while, the queen would not have such a noisy daughter and her cold, loveless words made it clear to the young filly - who understood not much at all at her tender age - that she was to obey. She was a proper filly. A good filly. A royal filly. A unicorn filly. All of which were things that mattered, as she was often told. Though, she was never told why, but that was alright, for she never asked.

Her father's coat of silver had not shown in hers, but his watery blue eyes were shared with her. She loved them, even though she had to squint nearly all the time to see anything that was more than a couple hoof-lengths in front of her. But that was okay too, because if she squinted hard enough her mother's pale green coat - rare and to be treasured she was told - almost looked bluish. She hated her coat, and whispered to curses at her hooves when nopony was listening. 

It was ugly because it reminded her of her mother. Anything that reminded her of her mother was ugly. She was glad that her mother was not there to hit her like all the other mothers Platinum knew.

She was glad that in Tirek's first invasion, her mother was the most notable victim of his destruction. Yet, this never changed the fact that every time she opened her eyes, she often saw the face of a mare that only lingered in portraits on the halls, a mare she had never met. A ghost no magician could detect, if they believed her at all. A phantom her father, King Tantalum, told her to shut up about lest the court think her mad.

In her chambers, she heard her mother's voice, haunting her and telling her about all the things a good filly would do, her voice as cold as Platinum could recall from the lingering memories of her mother, which were few considering she was only an infant at the time of her death, and even then her mother only wanted to adhere to the proper customs of the court and allow a nurse to see to her daughter, who would have been heir in name only and continued to be so until the death of her mother and her father's near-scandalous choice not to take a new wife made her the heir of the Unicorn Tribe - even if she wasn't a colt.

Her mother liked to remind her of that a lot too - even when ponies where around Platinum. The queen was there to tell her daughter that she should have been a colt. Platinum didn't know why her mother longed for this so much. She was dead. Her stare was cold. Her voice was like the ice of the long winter that her land experienced. Sometimes, the little filly would wonder if she could touch her mother - though she had no reason to - and if she would feel as cold as her voice was.

The days when her mother wouldn't come were the worst. Platinum was often alone then, and she hated being alone even when her mother wasn't there. She would sway back and forth on her hooves as much as her gaudy silk dresses and jewels would allow under cold pressures that she didn't think should be there and achy headaches she liked to imagine were just from her having a horn. It was like when her father told her the crown was a burden, she simply concluded that all this was the burden of being the pure race, the true race and all the other things she was told.

Listen and obey. She did those a lot. The only pony Platinum never thought to obey was her mother, who told her things she wasn't sure how to obey and didn't sound like commands at all.

Princess Platinum was not a scholar. She was not smart, but she was called beautiful countless times, as was proper for mares and fillies to be called. Smart and powerful were words for the stallions. She knew that, but being a princess she knew a fair deal too. She knew that she hated her mother, who made her eyes burn with colors she didn't like before she appeared and watched little Platinum when she wasn't there. Platinum felt cold strokes on her mane when no crown was there, and she knew it was her mother. The bitter taste of something like poor ale would touch her throat after she spoke her mother's name but she smiled to show everypony how much she loved the dead mare who stalked the halls from portrait and told her to listen, listen, listen to everypony and all the things that the queen knew to be true about life. She had been born to the highest gentry and had a marriage arranged with the king, whom she never loved and never would - as was proper - and always loved to remind Platinum of this as a distant scream that was never hers replayed in her mind. Was it her mother's scream? She wasn't sure of that, but she liked it. Sometimes, it would make her feel safe. 

She was almost glad that the shadow of the queen - sometimes she thought of her as a shadow when nopony was watching, but that was almost never - took such pleasure in tormenting her. It meant she had a heart. Somewhere. Probably.

Like her mother and father, Princess Platinum took to lies easily. What pony didn't? Lies were everyday, common among both the wealthy and the poor, and almost required. They were a basic part of speech, like all the other things she was supposed to memorize from the tutors who didn't quiz her all that well at times. She heard them talk about how she would have been better off a colt, but that was okay because most of the time she didn't hear them. She avoided the cane and always stared straight ahead. At the lesson.

But that was a lie too. She really didn't like lessons all that much. Instead, she preferred to stare as calmly as possible at her mother, who sat there. She attended every lesson, her hard look of disapproval always boring into Platinum.

It didn't matter. Things were okay. Lots of things were okay. Many ponies were okay.

Platinum just wasn't one of them.

> Pri(n)celess [Cancelled] [Outline]
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Story Summary/Draft Notes:


-The age difference between Clover and Platinum is six years. This means that Clover 'the Clever' was six years old at the time of Tear the Sky Asunder.

-The ponies in the Tribal Era were homophobic. Favorable Alignment is the only story of mine (so far) to highlight this in any way. 

-The reason that the Tribes held this particular prejudice is briefly mentioned by a modern Celestia in the previously mentioned story. She's a very unreliable narrator, but in the letter where the topic is discussed she states:



Ponies like that were never hated in the Tribal Era, but they weren't regarded with the same kindness ponies are treated with now. They couldn't have legitimate  heirs, which is what everypony wanted back then, so they were shunned to some degree.







Anything marked with those lovely *s will be revealed with the spoiler function at the very bottom of the page if you want to learn the context of that particular spoiler without having to read where it originated from. Had I gone and completed this story, many of these would have been worked into the narration where I could, thus rendering this the best fill-in I could come up with.









Chapter 1: Platinum is five years old, and being read to by her father, the cowardly* King Tantalum, on one of the rare occasions that he decides to spend time with her. As a noble, she'll eventually be taught to read a little, but since she isn't that old** she has not yet been taught. The 'ghost' of her mother watches, showing no strong emotion toward her daughter as the scene unfolds. The story being read to her (Platinum) is a rather twisted sort of fairy tale - think like a morality play, but with propaganda and in the form of a children's book - that reflects the Tribal equivalent of the 'and they lived happily ever after' deal.

But being the Tribes, which is basically ye olde Europe with cartoon horsies it sucks. Since Platinum is still rather young and doesn't quite grasp what marriage is, she manages to inquire into the matter, but in a surprisingly un-inquisitive way that lacks the usual curiosity that makes, like, 90% of children children. 

King Tantalum actually bothers to give a bit of a fuck about his daughter and answer her question about the story's depiction of marriage (after all, he plans to marry her off one day, not that she's entirely unaware of this). He tells her about the 'dangers' of love - something the Tribal ponies have none of because they all suck*** - and her father continues to tell her in a really half-assed way because he's seriously not the smartest, but he at least gives an accurate portrait of Tribal bias and explaining why ponies get married in the Tribal Era - heirs, politics, and money. 

After his rambling, the king asks Platnium to promise him that she won't fall in love like this is absolutely normal to be asked. He then encourages her to not ask any more questions in the future.

Platinum agrees to both, not seeing - or ever questioning - why she shouldn't. As she does so, the 'ghost' in the background that only she can see offers an eerie applaud.







Chapter 2: Platinum is now eight years old, shallower, pettier, and has to mask further instability due to being 'haunted' by the 'ghost'. She is playing with her dolls in her chambers and decides to have a doll wedding, but as she arranges them for the wedding, she realizes that all her dolls are mares - there's no groom! How can she have her doll wedding now? Should she just quit and demand a servant entertain her? What was the harm in playing though?

Innocently, she tries to rationalize - silently, and to herself - reasons in why there isn't any harm in using a boyish-looking* doll of a mare to be the stand-in for a groom. The 'ghost' queen watches silently as ignorant young Platinum acts out a wedding scene uses her dolls, enjoying herself  - though a bit nervously - before that caution fades away. To Platinum, her wedding of two mares feels 'almost right'**. 

The queen continues to watch silently as the ignorant filly is discovered by a maid in her play - and there is no mistake in what she is doing. Platinum is harshly scolded for her behavior - the maid knows that this is the only heir to the unicorn throne and that she is the only means of getting 'proper' heirs, as the king has no other foals that he can marry off once they are of age***.

While the ghost still stares on, young Platinum is still confused as the maid repeats what her father told her a few years ago - the 'correct' way to do things - only far more harshly.






Chapter 3: Platinum is still eight years old in this continuation of the last chapter. Her father hears about what happened and though he is displeased, he isn't violent towards Platinum in any way. He lectures Platinum on what is expected of her - after all, she is near marrying age - and essentially tells her how her entire life is supposed to go, according to his pretty much set in stone plan that was decided before she was even born.

Young Platinum manages to lie her way out of any kind of punishment or suspicion and gets her cutie mark - a mirror that reflects* her surface deep personality, deception, and inability to question the world around her, thus being willing to live a lie - while her father falsely praises it as a mirror of truth.

His mood changes a bit and he talks excitedly about her her first servant - a rite of passage for any proper noble. The 'ghost' agrees as soon as her father talks about a possible hoofmaiden in Clover 'the Clever' - a 'student'** of Starswirl the Bearded's.






Chapter 4: A ten year old* Platinum meets a sixteen year old Clover 'the Clever'. The latter is fretful, spastic, and awkward as well as incredibly meek. She is very paranoid (but never can explain why she is) and has been used in some of the (largely fruitless) magical experiments, leaving her very scatterbrained and a bit of a lunatic, but still functional enough to serve the princess.

Platinum doesn't really like her at first - she's only a servant - but finds herself steadily growing infatuated with Clover - an experience she hates and fears in good measure.





Chapter 5: With no other more eloquent way to put it, Platinum tries to deny her infatuation with Clover, both a servant and a mare. She does nothing to give herself away as a gay horse, but that doesn't make her life much easier.

Her mother's 'ghost' grows worse and Platinum only begins to just hide her madness at times. She gleefully indulges the bitchy side of her that only grew with age by viciously taunting a younger Luna and Celestia on the occasions they are brought to the castle by Starswirl.

Eventually, Platinum overhears discussions about potential marriage to a noblestallion. This drives her to have a breakdown in her room, right in front of her mirror, smashing it as the 'ghost' taunts her even more than usual. 

She is found by Clover, who fetches her disappointed father. He refuses to do anything about the episode other than deeming her unfit for marriage. Her 'madness' (which Clover and Tantalum only observe the aftermath of) is kept secret and brushed under the rug.

Platinum is fourteen years old.*





Chapter 6: Platinum and Clover set off and 'find' 'new' land* for the Tribes to live in and call home. The 'ghost' still bothers her, but not as much as when she spends time around Clover, whose company she actually enjoys, even if she still treats her like a very low servant.

Before she leaves, Platinum gives Starswirl a payment of books (something Platinum sees as useless) from an old archive** in the castle as payment for him agreeing to poison her father. Among them is the Book, which Starswirl opens and proclaims blank. He tries to argue with her to take it back, saying that he'd rather have her as his bride than a cache of old hoarded knowledge. She manages to get him to take the books - and the Book*** - anyway.

After Clover, Pansy, and Smart Cookie save the rest of the founders from the windigos, Platinum gets a moment alone with Clover and gives her a kiss, which shocks the ever-nervous and meek Clover, who is in fact, asexual aromantic****. She still agrees to personally swear her undying loyalty (not that she would have had a choice otherwise, as a servant) to a very heartbroken and ambitious Platinum, who is now twenty two***** years old and as bitchy as ever.





Epilogue: In the Forte* in Canterlote**, Platinum mourns Clover's death***, while preparing wine - that she has poisoned for the occasion. As she goes about this, it is revealed that she was a very surprisingly heartless and stern ruler who continued to obey tradition**** instead of making much of any real civil progress that would eventually be made by Celestia and Luna*****.

Even though she always treated Clover like a servant - and despite her love - not a particularly influential one either - she barely showed Clover any real love other than a vain fascination of some kind over the years. She is old-ish****** but her age is not specified. 

Through the narration (which never switches to first person) she announces that she will see Clover by morning. Suddenly frantic and displaying something other than coldness for the first time, the panicking 'ghost' tells Platinum that it loves her.

Platinum expresses nothing beyond saying 'I do not'******* before drinking the wine.






Footnotes:




Chapter 1: 



[1] In chapter six of Asunder the king, Tantalum, more or less lets his wife die.

[2] Tribal ponies didn't live very long, no matter which Tribe you were in, so their perception of age isn't a very good one.

[3] They're more or less all racist, dystopia dwelling, prejudice peddling imbeciles with far too much power for their own good - power that they use to oppress themselves and their neighbors (the other Tribes) as well as fuel numerous civil wars.




Chapter 2:



[1] This doll would have likely been a warrior mare, a rarity to the unicorns, but common among the other Tribes. However, this doll wouldn't have been anything other than a unicorn mare - so all Platinum's dolls would have been like an intentionally very racist version of horse Barbie.

[2] She's gay.

[3] Basically a ten year old. In the Tribes a pony from 8-10 would have more or less been considered an adult and married off. But just because the pony was now an adult in the eye of the Tribe ponies didn't mean they had any rights or say in their future - it was all a matter or power and tradition.



Chapter 3:



[1] Her talent is actually lying - the perfect cutie mark for any future politician! 

[2] Clover is a live in servant for Starswirl and has been since she was a young filly. She knows only a little more than the average unicorn in magic (considering how stupid they were, this would be considerable) but is otherwise very weak and unable to do magic. She has no say in her life and what will become of her. If she were alive today, Clover would certainly not be 'clever' but more along the lines of - for lack of a better term - magically retarded.



Chapter 4:



[1] She's marrying age now! Oh no! She's also an 'adult' and will be treated as such by the servants, however she still has little, if any, say in anything until she becomes a queen or manages to get any sort of power for herself - which is nearly impossible since her husband would be the one to inherit the Unicorn Throne, not her.


Chapter 5:



[1] According to most ponies of the era, Platinum should have had at least one foal by this age, so her being unamarried still would be extremely strange.



Chapter 6:



[1] They're simply returning to the southern land their ancestors fled so long ago, during the Collapse, when all was ruin and wasteland as far as the eye could see.

[2] Ponies with access to this kind of knowledge (which would be very lacking and mostly medieval 'science' and 'magic' about the alleged workings of the world) would be in a purely superstitious and ornamental position with little actual value in Tribal society. Being paid in books - most of which would only offer a testament to how dumb the Tribes were - would almost be insulting, unless you were a sorcerer who tried to work on your own magic (as successful or silly as that would be) but those would be largely nonexistent. 

[3] The exodus Luna and Celestia lead in Through the Snow was some years after the events in this chapter and before Onyx was under Starswirl's 'care'. The founders would have set up a camp and tried to establish a base for a few years before sending somepony back to rally the other Tribes for an exodus and prepare for the massive amount of travel that would have to be done.

[4] The Tribes would have no word for this, and it would be frowned upon, but if Platinum's sexuality were brought up, Clover's asexuality would be forgotten - though not considered a 'lesser evil' to the corrupt Tribes.

[5] An unmarried and foalless pony at her age would be jaw-drop inducing shocking to other ponies.



Epilogue:



[1] The meeting place of the former Tribes, now known as the Equestrian Triarchy, made up of Hurricane, Puddinghead, and Platinum. What, did you really think that Clover, Pansy, and Smart Cookie would get anything other than ornamental positions as 'advisor'? They didn't.

[2] The city that the former unicorn Tribe chose to establish. The pegasai and earth ponies had their own main cities too.

[3] See The Symphony of Dawn.

[4] Right now, those two would be living in the Everfree Castle. They would be in charge or raising the sun and moon now, but have no political power and be rather reclusive (yes, even Celestia). Despite this, ponies would still be able to see them, if they made the journey. There would have been parties thrown by Celestia at the castle then, so they weren't completely withdrawn. When the events of Spare Him His Life roll around, they would be sought out as advisors to rule in times of crisis or champions to be called upon to do what no mortal could. Their titles of 'Princess' are solely a formality at this point, but they still act as defenders of First Equestria. Only after Discord's fall would they take the throne for themselves. 

[5] Platinum is in her 40s-70s, most likely.

[6] She'd likely be using a majestic plural.
> Celestial Coloring [Drabble] [Minific]
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Her bobbed pink mane swished softly in the beams of sunlight and summer air pouring through the window far above her tiny white body, where even her young wings could not take her. She was barely old enough to flap them in mock-flight, but she still fluttered them in agitation.

Celestia's magenta eyes looked down at her drawing - a completely nonsensical and incomprehensible array of lines drawn in clumsy thick crayons that had to be held by her toddler hooves since her magic only came in small spurts, all of which were too weak to accomplish anything.

Maybe it was a castle - there was certainly a lot of gray in one large slab shape that might have been a foalish interpretation of her home in the Everfree Forest she had yet to ever see. The little filly had barely seen the gardens themselves, and that was because she had a habit of losing her shiny mane clips and crying when her mother and father couldn't find them. It wasn't her fault that she only liked to play in the flower beds instead of climb the big, scary trees that her perfect picture couldn't have.

She had colored what was definitely a sky in perfect pink, and the liberal use of that particular color to replicate her favorite hour - dawn - clearly demonstrated that it was her favorite.

In front of the maybe-castle on surprisingly neat-looking grass, three shapes half-stood and half-floated on the ground. Celestia was never going to grow up with the ability to draw more than a basic oval-petaled flower, but at least she had put her heart into scratching out three Alicorn shapes with crayons that she also liked to hold in her mouth when nopony was watching.

Sure, she accidently gave her father, High King Noctus - a god who was loved and feared - five legs instead of four, but she tried. And she may have drawn her own mane far too long - she wanted to grow it out! - but her circle-and-stick picture self at least looked like equine instead of eldritch.
Lumina, prophetess and god-queen of the realm had never looked more ugly than in her daughter's drawings. Her tall legs were sky-scraping stilts, though she was shorter than her husband. Her slender frame was completely marred and instead replaced with a large sphere for her body and head. A crude face, horn, wings, mane, and mark adorned it and her swishing tail made burnt broom bristles look lovely. Celestia thought the version of her mother that she had so proudly put onto paper was very nice. Her mother was with foal, but Celestia didn't really know what that meant because she didn't see any other foals. That new brother or sister that she was promised hadn't appeared at all. Perhaps it was in revenge that Celestia decided to draw her mother like she were a blimp.

Yet the world wouldn't know what evil schemes ran through her head as she grinned widely, admiring her work.

Why?

Because at that moment something landed on the paper that Celestia's feeble magic aura held.

She dropped the portrait of her family, eyes wide as though she had seen the end.

"MAMA! SPIDER!"
> History is Written by the Victors [Cancelled] [Outline] [Notes] [Hopefully Something Interesting]
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Just what ponies know about history in the 'verse is surprisingly little in reality. Why? Historians, the horse equiv. of an anthropologist, and other scholars of that sort wouldn't be plentiful or without having to operate under restrictions. Why? First, because the past is largely lost. To seek out the land that the Tribes once lived in is a grueling quest that basically no one - not even ponies or other creatures outside of Equestria would want to do and because the place where the Tribes lived is now a frozen deathtrap that's very far away, windigo-infested, buried under more snow than, like, twelve Canadas and completely unlike all terrain in the rest of the world now to the point where it'd probably have some glaciers to go with those windigos. Seriously, fuck windigos.  This means that attempting to research anything in a just-barely-qualified-as-a-civilization-but-you-tried graveyard (there'd be mass graves up to whazoo if anyone did find anything) that couldn't even build a wooden chair to last is in very big trouble since very little would be preserved and the ponies or whatever creature that decided to go there is now just performing overly elaborate suicide.

The only creatures that would stand a chance against windigos would be an Alicorn, a demon, or a draconequus - all which are technically endangered in a very literal sense.

This means that the sole source of history over pretty much all of Equestia's existence has been Celestia.

Now it's not surprising ponies don't know too much that doesn't just get washed into legends and fairy tales if it's anything before her solo reign. Only lands outside of Equestria would have any thriving historical knowledge - mostly Aquastria because it survived the Collapse and doesn't have a ruler who'd limit what knowledge gets out so drastically. 

This is where the story idea came from - the phrase that was the working title and just how stupid Equestrians would actually be if you took a good long look at the history texts that they would have had. Or at least the primary ones.

And it would have been in the form of Celestia's memoirs.

You'd think that would be pretty informative, wouldn't you? Not really. She's covered up the truth in almost anything and everything. Since there'd be things like how Luna was written out of history, it'd almost look as though Celestia is writing historical fanfiction compared to what actually happened. From these kinds of books, Equestria's historians would have written what they considered accurate history texts - the ones that filly Twilight would have studied from her earliest years - and history would be based around the goddess Celestia. She'd be the primary source that all textbooks would be based off of, with only a little research elsewhere. Whether knowingly or not, researchers and historical scholars would be finding evidence to support the skewed claims of Celestia, even if it was unintentional or subtle as they were completely oblivious to the ripple effect of mass ignorance they were creating. Even going to another country wouldn't help that much since Celestia would have kept things compatible enough that no major divergences would be known. Lack of communication with all southern nations at the time of Equestria's founding would have left things like Luna's existence surrounded in myth and many mysteries to the point where she'd have been a hushed 'maybe'  in the few scholarly circles that debated her and other things, suspecting that Celestia might not be telling the truth.

A more in-depth example would be this: Luna's existence would have been recorded pre-NMM but not as heavily as Celestia herself. She was a largely reclusive figure and often referred to as Celestia's shadow. She wouldn't have left the kingdom often, but might have been seen in battles on borders or in the wilds. Her dream-walking was non-existent at the time, so the only confirmation of her existence at the time of post-NMM would have come from the mere footnotes of possible records that gave her passing mentions pre-NMM that would have been smuggled out of Equestria. There would also be legends of battle and such, but other than those legends and notes, nothing at all. All this would lead to large debates within niche historical groups about who she was, if she existed at all. Luna, to these ponies, would have been something like a William Tell (fake/folk hero/possibly based on something real) or Pocahontas-like figure (real but life is largely just folk myth at this point, etc.). Even then, Nightmare Moon still would have been more popular in myth than her. Where Luna would be reduced to a few papers and dusty pamphlets of debates, Nightmare Moon would have been a pop culture icon compared to what would be known of Luna. 

So this story would have been written as though it were one of those memoirs and posted here. It would highlight all the deviations, alterations, and outright fabrications that Celestia made when she literally re-wrote history after Luna was banished. Some of it would even read like a moral fable at times since no matter how fake the text is, Equestrian history does have mythological undertones no matter how seriously or professionally a re-telling is written.

Each part would have been written in about 600-ish word chunks from the point of view of the sole Princess Celestia.

Here's the parts that were going to be wedged in:

-Celestia says very little about the Collapse. While nopony, not even the southern nations, would know exactly what happened to the Old World and the Alicorns, the south would be more educated on Alicorns (knowing there had been more and such) than Equestria, who despite not outright denying this, would be willfully ignorant in their Celestia-centric devotion and society. They'd have no idea about the Old World or old technologies since anything they'd have from before Old Equestria (Luna and Tia before NMM) and First Equestria (the unified Tribal Triarchy) would have been from the Tribal Era itself. Nopony would really think about anything before that, and anything that an older incarnation of Equestria might have been given in trade from the south (Old World influenced tech and such) would have just been dubbed a 'southern way' or part of southern culture.

-Instead of writing the Tribesponies as they were - vicious, brutal, backwards, ignorant, and heavily prejudiced to the point of everyday dysfunction - Celestia wrote the Tribes as they appear in things like Hearth's Warming plays (who would have gotten their 'facts' from the very texts the Princess wrote) where they only appear as a bit stubborn, foalish, unfriendly, and simply unwilling to follow a 'friendship is magic' dogma so they'd come across as very tame and outright babyish in compared to what they really were: a destructive clump of three dystopian societies sharing the same living space in a post-Collapse world, closed off in every way.

-Equestrian ponies would never learn that they were technically living in a post-apocalyptic world so that any little pieces of ruin or who-knows-what that might have been discovered when building things (not that any might remain now, it'd just be so unlikely) would have just been dismissed as something along the lines of an old castle and destroyed. Thus, Celestia's word would have indirectly led to a lot of Old World evidence being 'cleaned up' in order to support her claims of there never being one.

-Her rise to power and the prejudice of the Tribes would have been altered significantly. Instead of being an almost-slave who became a ruthless (but not murderous or anything duh) politician who weaseled her way to a crown for her and Luna and enough favor to keep them from getting usurped when the time came she would have written herself as helpful stranger type, wandering and teaching ponies about friendship and living a humble life as a young mare. Things like that.

-The personalities of Starswirl and all the Founders would have been rewritten entirely, and so would their roles in the Founding, which would have been way more like an accident and magical surge put together and not much more (right place, right time sorta deal), would have been made into moral symbols. Only Starswirl, who left basically no record would be mostly unchanged, but that would only be because of how almost-anonymous he is. The other Founders would be described vaguely - their personality would most be wrought from collective and wholly inaccurate legends that popped up - all based on Celestia's words.

-Discord is very much a fairy tale in Celestia's history books and his legend is altered significantly to exclude Luna. She may have appeared on things like the stained glass windows in Canterlot, but she'd just be brushed off as a symbol of some kind.

-Sombra, when he appears, would be written off as a graphic epitome of evil and the battle against him in Spare Him His Life would have been written as a Glory-to-Celestia kind of siege, where Celestia, the brave and gallant hero-queen figure leads her good, pure, noble ponies against him. While she wouldn't have written herself as being accompanied by a full-blown army, she'd write a few troops (no more than 100 ponies) with her as they go on a knight's errand to save the crystal ponies. The ponies would be the replacement for Luna, who was able to take the place of legions in fights. In later editions of Celestia's history books, the Crystal Empire and Sombra would be written out entirely, discarded and edited from history as the interest in a glorious paladin queen faded and time moved on. Thus, few remember either empire or Sombra.

-Nightmare Moon is nothing more than a bedtime story, and Celestia herself would write that.

-Celestia would write that she fought a young version of Tirek alone* while writing Scorpan and Starswirl as friends and herself as a gallant hero who prevails. Luna isn't present.

*The book that has Luna in it during season four would be very, very rare. Any books that still featured her and any legends of her would stop being made in Equestria after a few centuries of Celestia's rule, making such things priceless or custom, foreign made texts shipped to sneaky illegal collectors. She'd be reduced to legends and fairy tales where she popped up at all, but that wouldn't stop things like all such books being locked away in obscure royal archives so that few ponies (read: trusted confidants to Celestia and Twilight/other Faithful Students) could access anything like Predictions, from the season one opener. Everything else would have been burned... but not when anypony was around. Anything else - the one or two copies that did survive - would have to have been handed down through generations, and very, very lucky - like in Golden Oaks - but mostly, those kinds of books would have been burned by Celestia in private.


> Favorable Alignment [Oops] [Drabble] [Omake]
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

If ponies or any other damned species knew how much energy it took not to murder every barista who manages to screw up a bloody demon lord ordering black coffee in broad daylight by casually holding them at sword point and threatening the lives of everypony they hold dear - including their ailing grandmother, I do my research - then they would consider me the nicest thing to ever exist because that is one of the world's simplest tasks. I'm a busy demon, I can't always be shoplifting coffee makers when harassment is an option. Baristas may be the bravest thing I know next to Luna but they're far from the smartest species on this planet.
> Today Cadance Learned [Drabble] [Silly] [Friendshipping] [Minific]
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cadance could only blink in response. What else could properly convey her confusion?

"Is there something wrong?" Luna asked, cocking her head to the side and staring at the younger mare with a look that made Cadance think of the owls in the woods surrounding Wispgrove.

"Kinda...?" she finally managed, her breathing calmed with the wave of her pink forehoof and an outstretched foreleg - an old trick of hers. "But could you repeat yourself? Please, Luna?"

"Why?" She had a thoughtful but concerned frown on her face.

"I wasn't sure I heard you right, that's all." If her words were not convincing enough, Cadance hoped her smile was.

Luna's frown deepened slighlty, bearing subtle traces of skepticsism. "Very well then. All I said to you was that I did not find spiders to be frightening. In fact, I think them to be very adorable and have kept thousands over the years. The smallest were only slightly bigger than my hoof you see - and that was just their body. The Everfree Forest was filled with spiders as big as the average filly. I loved to play with them and pet their fuzzy bodies - they were just the sweetest things!" She grinned at the thought. "And there might still be some there."

Cadance made a faint 'meep' of fear at the thought of there being spiders the size of children - which she did find adorable. "Hey, Luna?" she whispered.

"Oh, yes?" Luna looked at her innocently, a faint smile still adorning her muzzle.

"You're weird."

Luna's expression did not waver. "You are most observant."
> Don't Make a Deal with a Demon [One Shot]
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

I just couldn't wait any longer. I had never liked waiting - never ever. Being a statue? That only made me dread any time I had to wait for anything even more. I have an eternity to do everything, so why would I ever want to spend any minute of it staying still unless I had to? That was just such a dull thought.

But I had to see him. I saw him once before. Or maybe twice? And now he was little Luna's 'lover'. Oh, the way she puts that is so cheesy. Luna, suddenly a sap? The world really had ended! Forget what the rest of the Pantheon said, the day Luna falls in love - that was the day we were all doomed.

I saw him and he didn't look like much. Dark and brooding? Yawn. Thought I can't be too surprised. Luna is a gloomy sort. Always quiet and off on her own. She's surrounded by so many ponies but she never talks to them. Sometimes she talks to me. She's always close to Celly.

Celly. Tia.

Celly. Tia.

Hmm, maybe one day I'll finally settle on one.

Cellytia? Hm, no. Celly for now. Maybe I'll call her Tia tomorrow. 

But I just knew that I had to meet Luna's mysterious suitor at least once. He was one of the few things she ever spoke about, a pony who managed to catch the interest of the mare I can't see as anything more than a filly. Except he certainly didn't seem like a pony, not one bit. 

There was so little I knew about him. He talked very little and glared at everything. Could he not talk? Celly didn't like him - I don't blame her, he always looks so irritated - so he's not likely to ever be a friend of mine. She's always been a better judge of ponies.

This lack of information wouldn't do. Luna was always going out of her way to see him. She never did that for anypony! Not even me, her good old honorary brother, Dissy. I'm hurt, really. 

All I had to do to get more was go meet him. How else would I ever learn anything about a pony? Showing up unannounced was the perfect way to surprise him, and who doesn't love surprises?

I couldn't think of any better plan to ponder over a breakfast of assorted cheeses, encyclopedia entries, and those little plastic jacks that ponies just agonize over when stepped upon. To top off such a healthy meal, I just washed everything down with a glass before disposing of that oh-so-pesky chocolate milk. Perhaps one of the plants can eat it? Or even dear Smoozie? They're all here, somewhere, roaming about my god's world of Chaosville. I don't see why the other gods think it so odd to live in a divine world. What other location is would be more fitting for me? None. None at all.

Chaosville vanished around me with a simple snap. 

He lived somewhere on Canterhorn Mountain, this Sombra character, and I was going to find him. Just how difficult could it be to find his house? He was like any other pony, right? Silent and royal - I heard that he had been royal. He probably has a villa just waiting for me to perfect.



...



He did not have a villa. Wasn't he a duke or something? The Duke of Canterlot - the one who has topiary shaped like him - lives in a sprawling manor. It is very easy to find and even easier to change.

It takes hours to find where Sombra lives. My poor wings!

I would not even call it living - I don't see any kind of shack, or cottage, or anything. There's no building or real marker to boast of an estate. He is already losing Dissy Points. Mysterious royalty should have an equally mysterious house. How could Luna ever want to spend any time with him at all? Celly says that she'll go to see him in all weather.

It looks like a campsite. He just stood in this little clearing place that could be forgotten far too easily. The city of Canterlot sprawled out far below, like he was supposed to look profound or epic - like some sort of king - by standing there with the wind in his mane and the sword gripped in his crimson magic pointed at the throat of the humble draconequus, clinging to the rocks since I had yet to rise and stand above him.

"Is this how you greet everypony?" I asked, staring into those red eyes. The irises almost looked like they were glowing. He wasn't even surprised to see me! Duke Sombra just looked at me, scowling and unfriendly. How was Cadance friends with him? Or Luna in love with him? How did anypony like someone who didn't even tell their guests a joke like I did? He's just...
Mean looking. 

"Perhaps," he says, gaze starting to roam. He looks at me in a way much like how Twilight Sparkle observes math problems that she wishes to solve. "What is it that you want?"

"To talk and see what all the fuss is about. New gods aren't something that pop up every day, especially not gods that are fun. I just want to see if you'll be any fun."

Duke Sombra just looked grumpier. "You talked. Now leave on your own, or I'll see to it that you do." He sheathed his sword - it looked to be southern in making, with the curved blade - and lit his odd curved horn. I don't think ponies are supposed to have them.

"Well, aren't you rude. I just wanted to see if you'd like to be my friend. That's what seems to be all the rage these days, don't you think? Wouldn't that be much better then just glaring at me like that? You're almost like Tw-"

"I'm nothing like her," he snaps. "I'd like to think that you have an actual reason to be here other than just whining about the mountain for hours about not being able to find me. Do you really think I couldn't hear you?"

I straightened my posture and righted myself, standing straight up. This usually intimidated ponies. Sombra stood steadfast.

"Well, maybe. You are old, aren't you? Ponies aren't really supposed to live-"

"I'm. Not. Old," he growled through gritted teeth. It was actually just a little bit creepy. I’ve never met a pony who could growl unless I made them, and even they never sounded that vicious. 

A breeze blew by, rustling the nice, distracting plants that caught my attention. Most of the plants here were just trees or some bushes and grass that I would have replaced if it weren't for how moody Luna's coltfriend was.

The one plant that didn't quite fit in with the others grew in thick patches, like some sort of weed - even though it was obviously tended. I looked at it curiously from a distance, shifting my gaze between Sombra and the strange plants. I have never seen one of these kind before. They looked a bit like ferns.

"So you're Loony's coltfriend, hmm?"

"Yes," he grumbled. “It’s only been on every tabloid.”

"You two must be a very moody duo. Just what is it that you like to do?"

"Like I'd tell you." He flipped his mane a bit and looked to the side momentarily, rolling his eyes.

"Is that your garden? You don't strike me the green hoof type."

He lifts an eyebrow. "You can call it that."

"Why don't you grow something better than ferns? Like flytraps! Such lovely, delicate things." 

He gives me an unwavering, flat stare. "Those aren't ferns, and they're for a friend."

"Do you speak in anything but that 'I want to be elsewhere' tone? C'mon what's wrong?"

"You."

"Oh," I said with as much of a comical, huffy tone as I could muster, "Is that how things will be between us? Surely, you can tell your Uncle Dissy something about all the horribly angsty things on your mind?"

"Give me a break. Don't you have somewhere more mundane to be? Ponies to consort with? I can't believe that you're honestly expecting to get anywhere with me."

Huffing again, I stroll over to his strange little garden cheerfully in order to counteract his gloom. I don't think that there's much more to him other than just watching my every move with those strange eyes. Perhaps I should put in a word with ol' Celly about the company Luna has been keeping. She's been so much happier these days, but how can it be from him? I'm happy to be with any friend of mine and Celly is happy in the company of almost anypony - he's one of the few exceptions. But it's hard not to worry about Luna if she's only ever happy around somepony like him. I'm not going to try to make sense of it - ah, what a nasty thing. Sense is Celly's job.

Kneeling down, I pluck a few leaves from Sombra's strange plants and hold them in the palm of my paw. Look at me, worrying about a friend that I never thought I would have again. I don't laugh - it's a joke, but not a laugh out loud joke - but I chuckle a little.

Sombra watches on, stoic and undeniably dull to me, his eyes trained on my paw. I have no doubt that he is planning something.

"Is this poisonous?"

"No."

Sombra's expression is hard to read. He's looking at me like I should know something very obvious, even though I am not a botanist. Perhaps Fluttershy would know something about this plant. Animals and plants aren't so different, I think. Especially when my magic is done with them. Celly might know too. After all, tea is just somepony dumping plants in water to make it taste differently. I wonder if she'd like if I brought her some of this to put in her tea.

Well. She might. I toss a bit of it in my mouth and watch Sombra recoil. How odd for somepony known as Sombra the Mad. I was expecting more from him. Maybe he's like one of those 'mad' ponies who just hurts others, mopes, or sees things. Duller things like that.

I toss a couple more of the leaves into my mouth, and Sombra looks on, his left eye twitching.

"What? I'm only having a snack."

"That's-"

"Oh, it's what? Can I make a salad with this? Or a sandwich? Do you think that this would go nicely with cucumber sandwiches by any chance? You see Fluttershy and I-"

He cuts me off with a brusque wave of his armored hoof. "You know what? Why don't you just take a bushel, and you can eat it all yourself or distribute it to however of your friends you want. Consider it my treat."

I paused mid-chew. "You're just going to give this to me?"

"If I let you take some of this, will you leave me alone indefinitely?"

He is kind of boring... and I was getting something out of it, even if he didn't want to be my friend. It looks like Twilight Sparkle will be getting another envelope full of eels in the mail instead of a friendship letter that Fluttershy only edited of course and no, no Celly did not co-author a single one. Shh. Luna's 'bad stallion' phase coltfriend could go be mopey and moody somewhere else. He doesn't realize that I'm getting the most out of this bargain. 

I swallowed the rest of the plant. Ugh, that taste could certainly improved. Paper and plastic had such fine flavors and foil was a rare treat... but this? Without my magic, it's just a work in progress, I suppose. Only the world's laws can limit me and my random powers.

I extend my now-empty paw to him. "Deal?"

Sombra stares at the limb. Doesn't he know to give a simple shake?  I hold my paw out further but he still does nothing. 

"Deal."
> Untitled #1 [Scrapped] [Unfinished]
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sturdy Foundation was a very unimportant pony. He knew this, and did not mind, because there were many unimportant ponies. The only thing about him that was even close to noteworthy was that the doublet he was currently wearing was stitched with the image of Celestia's sun along the sleeves, and in fine gold thread that was fitting for a unicorn with a profession such as himself. And why would it be anything but the sun? The sun was iconic! There was no greater image, than perhaps the goddess herself, who needed 'We' above 'I' to convey even a fraction of her immense power and soul to those she ruled, all below her.

But Sturdy Foundation was an unimportant pony, with a name as boring and forgettable as he was. He had always accepted this, but he never gave it any real thought. There was no reason to.

It was everything except that hint of gold thread that caused him to blend in with his world. Canterlote, the city of stone, the City carved within the very 'flesh' of the mountain like pegasai worked clouds, drowned all out with its gray buildings, few which surpassed even six stories. It was a place that when not illuminated by werelights, was plunged into crooked shadows - but everypony knew that werelights and illumination were needed to force the night away, with all its mooncalves and foulness.

Even in the dawn, Foundation was devoured by slices of shadow that seemed to pour from the uneven and rough cobblestone streets, built with the labor of many slaves, for it was built in the First Equestrian Period, when the goddesses were two noble mares who lived in the woods and 'Princess' was an ornamental prefix to their names, for Platinum, Hurricane, and Puddinghead still ruled in unity then, governing the Tribes that had been united for over two hundred years now. Anypony who knew anything about Platinum knew that she was fond over the labor of slaves, something Equestria's goddess abolished. Now, ponykind was left with serfs.

Foundation gulped. He had no right in the presence of this goddess, for she was what granted him anything at all, but the morning air was cold and only increased his nerve. Even though there was a pomander tucked within his fine jacket, who knew what vile traces of the night hours still tainted the air?

He clutched the large sheets of paper that made up the bundle he was carrying to his chest, and took a few steps forward - how bold! - so that he stood in a patch of sunlight. All around him were walls of gray stone, still properly segregating everything. Grass, kept in control by the effort of many gardeners crunched underhoof. Oh gods, he was walking on the grass! Yet his errand was so urgent, would he be forgiven? This was royal property, after all, with the castle within the Everfree destroyed.

His horn glowed as he pressed the papers to his chest even more tightly. What he had been presented with couldn't be right. It simply couldn't. He wasn't the master Royal Architect, but even he can see when something was wrong with the plans that the Master had been presented with. Was somepony impersonating Celestia? Who would dare attempt to make choices for the great goddess as though they were her? The very thought had Foundation's stomach churning and his body chilled.

Maybe if he had been attentive, he would have picked up on a sound before he entered the Canterlote Gardens, with rigid, orderly borders of hedges that seemed to be even more austere than the stone. He could have heard of the slight burble of plain fountains and water splashing against stone - gray stone, of course. This was a gray city, with streets of sprawling stone veins that had little, if anything, between each building, mines and caves of crystal barely below it all, and tombs of the same stone - the only real art in the city other than a few rather modest towers - that carried rumors of ghosts now and then, when the magic in the night air was particularly potent.

So, maybe if the stallion who rushed about as best as he could, stumbling about here and there and trying not to fall and have his head dashed against the cobbled path, he would have heard the princes-goddess Celestia before he dared to approach her.

He was supposed to meet him in the orderly, but small array of hedges that was trimmed to perfection and housed a few statues, including a rather ghastly depiction of the monstrous draconequus Discord, who felled First Equestria, appearing shortly after Princess Platinum's death, only to be defeated by Princess Celestia in her war.

Foundation had not been there, of course, but he heard the stories: Princess Celestia, after an unsuccessful slew of attacks on him, ended the bloody affair with the usurper by wielding the newly-discovered Elements of Harmony! It was impossible not to admire their goddess for her efforts to ensure harmony in the land.

Foundation did not hear the sound of what was an uncharacteristic sound to even be thought of coming from Princess Celestia: hoarse whispering, as though some kind of gross sobbing had been occurring not long before.

While nopony else had been in the gardens lately, Foundation was sure that whatever he could've heard wasn't her at all. Princess Celestia was an empathetic mare, and cared for all good ponies. She smiled and laughed openly. In the events of sadness, she responded appropriately, and there would be tears shed, trickling down her face before being properly wiped away. She was not aloof, reclusive, unfriendly, or in any way unsocial. She was only distant because she was above everypony.

Perhaps the sound was some kind of leftover night-magic. Foundation looked to the sky, noting that even though it was not there, the moon would've still borne the new scars that had appeared three sunrises ago.

Ponies had rejoiced then. They thought it meant that the things that plagued them in the night would be gone: bad dreams, monsters, unbearable darkness, hidden evils, and the taint and other afflictions it could have imprinted upon sensible, good day-walking ponies.

Princess Celestia, in her modesty, had not participated in any celebrations or rumor-spreading that had since been going around Canterlote, and slowly, all of Equestria. Their goddess had triumphed yet again! Another evil was defeated, and she was so humble to withdraw from celebration. The fledgling, ever-fighting southern kingdoms had only inadequate mortal rulers. Equestria had Celestia.

When Princess Celestia was in view of Foundation, her head was bowed to hide the face that was the epitome of Equestrian beauty, and her great mane spilled forth to hide it. If Foundation didn't know better, he would think it was in slight in disarray. Her crown was... no, not fallen. It simply couldn't be fallen. By some rare accident she had dropped it, and it sat upon the dewy grass at her hooves, in the shadow of a pedestal where the image of a monster stood in stone, laughing.

She sat on the ground like she was a common pony, her wings still held tight at her side. Foundation was no featherbrain, but he knew his eyes deceived him when he observed a feather or two that appeared to be out of place.

"Your Majesty," Foundation said, sweeping into the lowest of bows - he was still careful to mind his papers - as he dared to speak to the princess before being spoken to, "I apologize for my careless and bold interruption of your precious time."
He heard the princess take a quiet breath, and a hollow sounding response escaped her. "I pardon you," she said with what could've been mistaken for a weary tone in any other, "and find no offence in your actions. Say what you must, commoner."

Foundation bowed his head even deeper. He was certainly not a commoner, except when compared to a goddess like Princess Celestia, so the reprimand, though in no way blunt - the horror of that thought - was still a scolding that he didn't expect from such a kind mare, but she also didn't know his name, so there was little she could call him at the moment. "Thank you, your forgiveness is of a value that cannot be measured," he replied, knowing that the princess that Equestria loved and obeyed without question was always forgiving of good ponies.

"I have allowed you to speak, then," she said quietly, rising from the ground to loom over him. "You may look upon me," she said with a creaky gentleness - the latter which she showed all her good subjects. Her focus seemed off. What could be distracting such a lovely mare?

Foundation looked upon Princess Celestia and had to hold back a gasp and poorly attempted to wrangle his emotion and keep it in check.

The elegant cosmetics that shaded her eyes and the powders that made her coat even whiter when she needed it to be even more radiant were running down her face and smudged in different places from where they had been applied, making her silky fur look like it was caked with snow or brushed the wrong way. Her eyes were puffy, pink, and moist with tears that still clung in them, and had yet to be rubbed away.

She reached up with a forehoof to gently wipe some of the powder lightly dusting her coat away. 

If this were a common mare being so openly emotional... about what, Foundation couldn't really guess, then he would have been a bit disgusted with the display, but since this was Princess Celestia, he couldn't fathom it.

Foundation drew away discreetly and withdrew a hoofkerchief from his sleeve with his magic, and levitated it over to her, eyes lowered from the sight of a saddened Princess Celestia with only her necklace and golden boots. He would've thought with the whispers of celebration concentrated in parts of her kingdom that she would be wearing one of the gowns that she was seen in on such occasions that begged for celebration, where she would stand, smiling brightly all done up in lace and ruffles.

While Princess Celestia was done mopping the runny make-up from her face, Foundation fell into a slight bow before presenting Princess Celestia with the bundle of papers he had carried here from Architects' Hall.

"This was the final design for the city and new palace to be built atop all of this-" Foundation dared to give a small sweep of his hoof to indicate Canterlote, and then he presented the design to the princess, pulling a scroll from his papers. The cracked wax seal with a sun indicated the writer, even if the enchantment in the wax had been broken.

Celestia looked down at the paper. The blueprints were drawn by a pony without much experience in Foundation's profession, but were by no means horrible enough to be unusable. Shown in them was a city unlike any other known to the ponies of the present.
> Cold Comfort [Unfinished] [Rarijack] [Friendshipping]
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rain sloshed about Rarity's hooves, soaking into her the fur of her coat and chilling it. She held her breath, only gasping a little when it happened, before daintily chewing on her lip - really, just resting her teeth on the edge of her bottom lip, and carefully so.

While she had been through much worse in her years, feeling mud tickle the frogs of her hooves remained unpleasant. This day, however, she could bear it. Tutting slightly, she pulled the cloth napkin over the contents of her picnic basket a little more, shivering as the fat drops of rain splashed against her white coat.

Maintaining as brisk a trot as she could, Rarity kept the glow of her horn steady and tucked a wet lock of her mane behind her ear. It had not been raining when she set out today, but it was beginning to pour - nothing too heavy, but if she had bothered to mind the word of weather pegasai, she would have caught word of there being a good drizzle in Ponyville.

That drizzle would be effecting Ponyville's cemetery as well. It was an out of the way place, and quite peaceful. Well-maintained headstones dotted what must have been a woodsy clearing generations ago. Many trees had been planted and encouraged to grow along the edges, some of them were apple trees from the ancestors of the Apple family. Rarity could tell by the smell of the fruit wafting through the sticky summer rain.

While a fair amount of headstones were uniform, they all had information on them that made up the most important aspects of a pony's self, the stubborn, unchangeable, and un-discardable something everypony and even the gods themselves had something of. Race, cutie mark, birth and death dates, spouse's name, and the name that stuck with a pony from the moment they were born to the moment they died with little exception all were carved from good, solid stone and enchanted to prevent from damage or time erasing anything.

Variation was what caught Rarity's eye - the shapes, types, and style of carvings held some place in her mind. She may not have grown up on a rock farm, but gem-work was much like stone-work, even if there was no earth pony's magic in her blood and bone.

The most curious of things on these headstones were the small prayers and symbols. When a pony died, no matter what town they were from, and if it was custom to be buried like an earth pony or entombed like a unicorn or crystal pony, then they could have the symbol or a sort of prayer and incantation carved upon the headstone or vault that divided them from the world and detailing a little something about which of the gods they chose to follow most in their heart, or a little something of the entire Pantheon.

Rarity had been here only for a few different occasions, and she had noted things. A seamstress' eye knew detail. Suns were the most common emblem. Moons were only a recent addition, and it was different from the sun and moon banner of Equestria, the sign of being a member of the guard. There were some scattered hearts for Cadance - Rarity's grandmother, who had died when Cadance was still fairly new, had the heart of Cadance inscribed upon her headstone, though it was carved in the style of a sort-of half-god. Cadance was no god any more than Rarity's wife was, so they had carvings but they were different. Smaller, perhaps, and with a different style.

Rarity's eyes continued to pass over the stones, she was looking for somepony alive, not an emblem, but she continued to see more. One had the mark of Discord, his gaggle of strange arrows upon it, then there were other marks, like that of the others: Reapers, the undersea king, and one or two more Rarity's mind did not bother to remind her of at this moment. The knowledge god however, had no marks in Ponyville's cemetery.

The graves of pegasai were few and unusual, for their death rituals were still strange to Rarity, and made no effort to preserve the body of a loved one and offer them a final resting place.

Pockets of sunshine broke through the clouds and illuminated the pony Rarity was looking for in scattered patches, and she made her way past more rows. Humming, she batted at a few raindrops and wished that she might have been more quick to take a few extra magic lessons from Twilight for situations like this, when her umbrella was oh-so-far away.

Through the patches of clouds, sunbeams fell upon Applejack, who stood still in the pitter-patter of rain. Rarity slowed her trot and slowly walked up beside her.

Rain drizzled off strands of Applejack's golden mane, rolling down her back. Her hat was tipped forward and hid her face, and the pitter patter of water falling off the brim was all that sounded between them.

Rarity didn't need to see that the grave before her was for an earth pony stallion named Savory Shaddock. She had known that, she had met him enough times before he had ever ended up in his bed of soil, and the trident and Shell of Plenty of Neptune of Aquastria were carved upon his headstone. He had the palest orange coat, thin reading glasses, clean suits, and so much knowledge of finances and math that he simply had to teach it to Applejack too, when Applejack was a filly who complained about having to wear a Prancian bread for picture day, a sunhat in summer, play kickball far nicer than she was used to doing. 

Rarity, then, had just started outgrowing hopscotch, taken to lip gloss, despised her braces, swooned at every nice colt, and never once ate any of Applejack's apple tarts at the schoolhouse bake sale. Not ever.

Today, they were the best of friends.

In fact, they were so close of friends that Applejack didn't let anypony else follow her here. When all the girls still lived in Ponyville, Rarity had to shoo the other four - dear Twilight included - away. They would all say something. Tears would show in their eyes, sympathy would fly from their tongues all at once like birdsong.

Even when Applejack stepped off the train, her scarf around her neck, her parka secure, and green eyes looking at her hometown while her mind wandered back to her family at Crystal Apple Acres and her three foals with shining eyes and coats that grew in leaps and bounds every time Rarity visited Applejack and her family at her thriving homestead. In the years since she moved to the Empire, Rarity had noticed a magical gleam in Applejack's eyes that made them twinkle like emeralds and a faint lustre to her coat - just a touch, really - that was certainly not from more attention paid to grooming.

Applejack liked Rarity to be there, standing by the resting places of Savory, Granny Smith, and other members of Ponyville's branch of the Apple family, not because she would weep and offer up a hundred 'sorries' for Applejack, but because she would sniffle. At most, she would dab at her watery eyes with a hoofkerchief of elegant Maris lace and tuck it back into her little basket as she did now.

She would rest her hoof comfortingly on Applejack's wither, and this time she noted that Applejack had tried to hem the modest gray frock Rarity had made for her three years ago with what was clearly black thread, and it showed.

Tucking her hoofkerchief back into the basket and neatly under the napkin so her hoofkerchief was kept nice and dry, she looked to Applejack, who quietly raised a forehoof and moved it past her freckled face to tuck a bit of her mane back under her hat. It had escaped her single braid, and would have to be arranged so it fit into her green mane tie later. Her green eyes were looking straight at Rarity, for a moment, and then she nodded curtly, swallowing and tipping her hat and letting rain slosh off the brim.
> Untitled #2 [Scrapped] [Unfinished] [Poetry]
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

1: Swan Song

She walks on hard gray stone.
Tells herself

Just

Another

     Step

The midwife trails
So
Far
Behind
Stones wet with snow. Pebble grit EVERYWHERE.
Below

[ENDS HERE]
> Pleading Child [Unfinished] [Scrapped]
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

He stands in what was once the peaceful living room to a cottage. The walls of were a subdued shade of magenta crystal with round windows,snugly shut with painted wooden shutters that muffled all the sound. The inside was dusty and sparsely furnished by somewhat sad, worn, wooden furniture draped with patchy blankets that probably couldn't handle being passed down another generation. Bright and shiny glass vases held fresh mountain flowers that nodded against the air that slipped through the shutters, as if they wanted to go home and once again be rooted in soil.

A fuzzy woolen rug was kicked at an odd angle in the brief and futile struggle. It was pierced with holes that were occupied by dully shining black crystals.

Everything was splattered with blood, there were flecks on the walls and large pools everywhere. They seeped out of two ponies lying on the ground, their forms were not yet cold.

A mare with a silver coat and pale rose mane and a mark of some sort of grey bird perched among mountain flowers. Mockingbird had been gardening at dawn today, now here she was. Her coat, like the pony next to hers had dulled with her life force. She no longer had a throat to sing lullabies with.

Next to her was her husband, till death do they part. He was a pegasus, although now it was hard to tell since the side pressed to the floor had been savagely torn by the crystals, severing one of his wings. He was pale blue and had a limp mane and tail of yellow. Had he really been down in the pastures tending his flocks just mere hours earlier? Had Azurite? I'm sure if you could have asked him now even he wouldn't believe you.

Azurite lay closer to the hearth, where a silent fire flickered as if all was well. That was how he found this place., the smoke from the chimney led him right to this simple little hovel in the mountains. It was so easy. There were no neighbors to speak of unless you counted the garden he saw in the distance. It was positively bursting with color.

The crimson aura encircling Sombra's curved horn dulled and the crystals stilled. Despite his youth there were dark circles under his eyes, which were a more vibrant shade then his magic, and a somewhat tired look to him. Even so he had a silent and aggresive way he carried himself that any thief would fear.
> Untitled #3 [One Shot]
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Sister, how terrible do I look?" Luna was staring out the window, expression unusually sour, but her magic was clutching at the fabric of her dark dress. Deep blue-black fabric swept down in a cascade against the floor where Luna wasn't hiking it up in bunches. Such was the fate of the brand-new item.

"Luna, you would look just fine if you didn't crease the fabric so. Let it go." Celestia's own light skirt flowed with her every step. Coral and pink waved with nearly half the grace of the Alicorn's movements. "You look great."

Celestia, the very mare who ordered both their dresses, offered Luna a diplomatic smile. "Come on, there's a whole charity gala to enjoy."

Luna didn't move. Even her mane was still for a few breaths. The eyes of the moon goddess still swept over the visible urban isle of Manehatten and her high-rises with the harsh, jarring disdain that Luna showed next to nothing else. This was the mare that fell in love with every wild place; now she was shooting a sulky stare through steel and distant street pavement. 

Celestia held hers, uncertain. With Luna, she could only pretend to know what to say, most of the time. There were few things that bothered her more than that. "Everypony will love your dress," she offered again.

Luna gave a reluctant kick at the back, the skirt flaring, billowing behind her before settling again. "This is incredibly uncomfortable. It's..."

Luna's thoughts ran faster, and longer, than her mouth ever could.

With Luna trailing off again, losing herself to her musings and unfinished sentences, Celestia could only presume that the fault was in the skirt. The dress was a feminine, elegant waterfall of fabric. If Luna found it uncomfortable, it likely only needed to be reined in. 

Without a second spared, Celestia gave a few matronly tuts and was at Luna's side. The glossy black belt at her lean waist was obviously too loose. Clearly, it was far more of a problem than the dark moon clasp that was supposed to aid in the way the fabric hung off Luna's body. The poor mare must feel like she was draped in the cloth of a whole castle's curtains. Next time, she would order something with a proper waistline for Luna, like the gift she had gotten her for Twilight's coronation. 

Every dress Luna had was a gift, and every one was from Celestia. Because of Celestia, Luna had a whole wardrobe of gorgeous gowns for events like this one. Many were pretty, moon-and-star themed things too. Each and every one was accumulated since her return, along with many other gifts. Those never seemed to get as... complicated, confusing responses, though. 

Golden magic clung to Celestia's horn, and with a single movement, she pulled the belt.

"TIA!" Luna yelped, her whole form flashing with alarm.

Celestia would have gasped if she hadn't been smacked right in the face when Luna's wings flared out. Instead, she tasted feathers while the sound of sharp, near-ragged breaths reached her ears.

Horn lit once more, Celestia suppressed the sounds of gags as she plucked tufts of feathers from her mouth, from her teeth, and even the few that managed to get in her mane. Blehph. Gfft. Heffk. Ech.

Luna's wings were clean and well-groomed, Celestia hadn't expected otherwise, but she also hadn't preened Luna's wings since they were both little Alicorn fillies. Surprise 'meals' of feathers weren't going to dampen the unpleasantness, either.

"Oh, Tia, I'm sorry-"

"Don't be. Please." There was more urgency in those words than she had counted on. No matter how Luna's lean form was covered or how her wings were still-half flared (and with clear discomfort, no less) Celestia could see that belt had been pulled far, far too tight. Luna couldn't breathe right, and her wide, surprised eyes...

...she was caught up in mistakes, apology... oh goodness, they were both out of it today, weren't they?

Before Luna had another 'sorry' grace her lips or could do anything else, Celestia managed a rare bit of speed and pulled her belt loose with her magic so that Luna wasn't forced to clench her stomach so. 

Large, gasping breaths met Celestia's ears as she watched Luna suck in air without a bit of composure.

"Luna, I am so sorry. Please know I only intended-"

"Tia..." Luna gasped again, grounded in getting her breathing steady and strong again. "You musn't apologize over the silly belt. I... I just wanted a suit." There was something forlorn in the downcast look she gave the floor. "I've always wanted a suit." She pauses, adding, "Some suits."

Celestia really only wanted Luna to feel pretty. To do something sisterly, and what could be more sisterly than sharing pretty clothes, girl talk, trinkets, and the 'twinsies' that all the foals found hip? She was aiming for a connection to somepony she really hadn't always known, and often still did not. A mare, just like her. Her sister, who she wanted to feel beautiful and as lauded as Celestia knew she was. The dress could make the mare, be a gift, they were petals that Luna could bloom like an appealing rose in, smiling and...

Luna just shrunk like a violet in these. She stood by, neutral...

"A suit..." Celestia tried to shift her gaze so it wasn't direct and instead traveled down her own legs. Luna loved the jewelry Celestia got for her. She was looking so nice in the earrings and shoes that had been designed along with the swathes of indigo she apparently couldn't stand. Why didn't she at least like the dresses?

Luna nodded like a mare stranded in the desert would if asked about thirst. The ever-rare light in her eyes was dancing again. "A crisp, sort-of handsome mare's suit." 

Celestia's throat was tight. Luna had always dressed so... plainly? Rather stallion-like? Oh, she wasn't sure what to call it, just that Luna had gone through cross-dressing phases and all sorts of things. But didn't she see that she had winning looks like this? The kind of things publicity swooned over, ponies complimented, and was just absolutely worth prancing in? 

"We won't be able to do anything today..." Celestia began, her mind already aiming to tread carefully, to assemble all the right words.

"I know, Tia." Luna's eyes had a lingering joy to them, but Celestia saw how fast it was retreating. Their dressing room was already feeling loose and airy again. "Next time," Luna supplied, magic touching her tiara as carefully as she spoke. "There is always a next time." Something bright lurked in her words. 

Celestia's smile felt weak, but it didn't show. "I think we can just put a pin in this as a whole, don't you?"

Luna's light was all gone. The abrupt wordlessness of things reined between them. Celestia could not even remember when Luna's eyes had found the city outside again and had begun to raise the silent moon above the ocean beyond the city, or how sunset bled to dusk because she had not even heard Luna's magic twinkle.
> Jaunty June [One Shot] [Friendshipping] [Blueblood/Raven]
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Yoo-hoo! Rae!" Duke Blueblood waved to Raven, who meeped at the boistrous greeting. Her magic flared faintly so she could hold onto the papers and pens gripped in her magic, even though they had been in no danger of falling.

"B-Blue, I c-could've dropped these! What would Princess Celestia have said if I had-"

"Auntie would have little to say about a few scattered papers." Blueblood bit his lip. "Though, I do suppose I see your point." He swallowed, looking at the floor.

A hesitant, but reassuring pat on the wither from Raven drew away any gloom. "Blue, I've still got them. No disorganization, s-see? All neat."

Blueblood exhaled and matched Raven's stride. "So, Rae, I was wondering what your plans are for June."

Raven smiled. June with Blueblood was one of her favorite times of the year because it meant that she could finally be close to brazen about something. Courageous. It was something her and Blue shared too, a whole celebration of identity when her voice felt a little louder with the nudge of a crowd.

"The parade is still on this year, r-right?" She smiled, giddy and still bearing her usual shyness.

Blueblood nodded, a spring entering his step. The grand halls of Canterlot Castle were absolutely ringing with his steps. "Absolutely, Rae!"

Duties meant that sometimes you had to be the statue everypony danced around instead of a dancer. Raven saw it in Princess Celestia, who had the hoof steps to such a routine tred right onto her heart. Sometimes that meant that her and Blue couldn't make every pride parade in Canterlot. Duties meant that sometimes the duke was presiding over another city's when they vied for the attention of the Royal Family. He might even be doing something unrelated, or in another part of the world. There were numerous possibilities, and numerous events across Canterlot and Equestria, not that Raven had ever been to another. She was a Canterlotian, born and bred. If she was to be a stripe on any rainbow, it would be one in Canterlot.

"Will Joe be able to come?" she asked expectantly. She liked Donut Joe, not that she knew him extremely well. Princess Celestia knew a young Twilight Sparkle frequented his shop very often in the past, and that him and Blueblood fancied one another, but she really didn't go anywhere the princess didn't.

"Jojo shall be making it this year!" Blueblood was grinning from ear to ear, and Raven couldn't blame him. Blue's coltfriend was spectacular, and always had the best (and only) rainbow-sprinkled donuts in all of Canterlot throughout the month of June. Sometimes that meant that they couldn't go to events together, with Blue being royalty and Joe running his own shop, but they tried.

"That's wonderful!" Raven who generally could not get out many words without slipping into a stutter, often couldn't believe she was able to so much as raise her voice around royalty. Blue never stopped being a friend, but he never stopped being royalty either; he was just the only member of the Royal Family she could really act that way around. "Should we start plans next week? That will give us extra time to check the newest Canterlot Carousel catalogues."

Raven was hoping for some rosy dresses being availible. Yes, she was more than able to afford a custom order over a more general one, but every bit spent needlessly was a bit spent badly.

"Oh gods, absolutely. Among all the boutiques in this city and the one founded by a Ponyvillian is one of the few to capitalize on the strategy of sending their catalogues out extra-extra-early. It's madness, I tell you." Blueblood wrapped a scoff in his last few words.

His stride was larger than hers, and she had to trot to keep up with him. There was nothing that could stop dramatic, energetic, and opulent Blueblood when he wanted to go somewhere or set his mind to something. He was the stallion whose parties and fortune dazzled all of Equestria, second to Princess Celestia and Luna themselves. He was the the leader, the go-getter, and Raven was the mouse.

She was used to it, not minding it. Not around Blue, and certainly not around Joe. When all her time was spent around perfect Princess Celestia and mysterious Princess Luna, finding a pony like Joe who was both quiet and strong... and so normal made it feel like she mattered just a little extra bit.

The date, May 13th, burned clearly in Raven's mind. There was much to be done to perfect their plans and who better than the top secretary in Equestria to do it? They had learned from experience that Joe was too busy and no matter how much Blue spoke, he was sickened by the thought of being responsible for starting plans for anything mid-month, and certainly not an uneven day. Duties aside, he was still known for being the 'prince of leisure'.

She was half-tempted to pull the pen she had tucked away in her bun out and start jotting down a few thoughts, but hit her lip delicately and resisted the urge. She still had a lunch meet and chess with Princess Celestia as soon as she could drop off her papers at her office.

"How does Thursday at Joe's sound for Pride Plans? Two-o'-clock?" Thursday was rarely busy at Joe's compared to the weekend, and she was certain she might have misplaced her honest-to-gods 'Pride Plans' notebook somewhere in her apartment, and until she went home to start peeking behind her modest stack of unwashed dishes (which would give poor Blue a heart attack) and behind her favorite chair, she would have to resist the further urge to scribble.

"I think that will do just fine. A letter to Jojo should be all that's needed to arrange lunch. Expect one from me if that changes or isn't do-able." Blue poked his head around the hall, ears perked forwards while Raven paused to look the next way, towards the hall that would bring her to her office.

"That sounds perfect," Raven said, heading bowing slightly through the push of habit. The word 'perfect' always was spoken so carefully and felt balanced on her tongue.

Smiling, Blueblood offered a wave back. "Have a good afternoon, Rae!"

"Bye, Blue!" She flashed her teeth in a friendly smile. "Hope you have a good day!"

Raven received a smile in return.

"May we have a jaunty June in return!"
> Secondhoof Bribes [Minific] [Friendshipping] [Sombra/Cadance]
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cadance tugged at one of her short curls with a hoof. "So, I got you a few things that might suit your tastes."

"Might," Sombra echoed skeptically. He frowned. 

"Yes!" Cadance piped, puffing out her chest with all the confidence she could manage, rustling the shopping bag she had grasped in her magic. "All you have to do is stop using my makeup."

Sombra raised an eyebrow, but taunted Cadance with no answer. She was forced to resort to bribes. and here she was wrinkling her muzzle at the very stallion she taught the art of cosmetics to. Now that he lived with Luna, he had every opportunity to sneak into the visiting rooms she claimed too obtain 'free samples' of her eyeshadow.

"Please," Cadance asked, giving Sombra her goofiest puppy-dog eyes and a smile sweet enough to match her tone. "I didn't teach you so you could rob me."

A swish of crimson magic poked Cadance right in the muzzle. "That's part of a surprise attack. Now let me see if your bribes are sufficient."

Sighing, Cadance hummed and withdrew a shiny container. The clear lid showed off the colored array of powders inside. "These are the best for smokey eyes," Cadance said with a wink, her smile hiding how much she hoped she struck Sombra's weakness. "I even made sure that all the colors will go well with your coat and eyes. See what a gooooood friend I am?"

Sombra shot her a sharp look, betraying nothing. "Be silent, Insolent Niece. I still see more in that bag."

"Fine, be a big grouch, but at least look at this~" With another cheerful smile, Cadance pulled out a ruffly, layrered skirt. "It's pretty, yah?"

Sombra flicked an ear, but kept his eyes glued to the long garment. 

"Okay, if that's a 'no', then how 'bout this one?" Cadance waved a container of barrettes and mane clips around. "These ones are really good for manes like yours," she said pointing to Sombra's disheveled mane. "One of my friends suggested them."

Sombra dragged his eyes from the container to Cadance's bouncy curls. "And the rest?"

"Ta-da!" Cadance exclaimed, flashing a rugged-looking stallion's trench coat around. "I thought you'd wanna add this one to your collection too! Lookit this collar. It's extra good for flipping up~!"

She really wished that it would be easier to tell if her teasing was having an impact on him or swaying him in any way. 

"Come on, Sombra. I'm running out of stuff here." She shook her nearly empty bag, one cloth item bouncing inside. 

Wordlessly, Sombra nodded to the bag. "Show me what's inside, then. Taunting me any longer will result in Skyla 'accidentally' having too many sweets the next time I watch her." One corner of his mouth curls up. "I might even give her soda."

"You would not..." Lifting one forehoof, Cadance hides the astonished 'O' of her mouth. 

"I would, and I will."

"And to think you're considered reformed, you jerk."

Sombra chuckled dryly. "I try."

Though she was bad at showing malicious brands of annoyance, Cadance did her best to feign it with an eye roll. "Here's your last offer."

The last item Cadance had purchased was a shirt. It looked very casual, and while that wasn't the most popular of styles, she knew that Sombra always tended to wear something. She'd certainly never seen him without his familiar cloak at the least. With a few twists of her aura, the T-Shirt unfolded so that the design presented Sombra.

"Look how cute it is! I saw this at a secondhoof store in Fillydelphia and immediately thought of you!"

Sombra could only face the shirt with a mix of bewilderment and something Cadance pegged as an awkward brand of fear. "I think it was secondhoof for a reason."

Ears flicking, Cadance flipped the shirt around so she could look at the image sewn on it. A pineapple with large, but species non-specific paws gazed amorously at a cheesy pizza slice below. Both were ponified loosely, with faces bearing features that were broad enough to fit a number of mammals, like certain kinds of smiley stickers meant to include non-ponies. 
The pizza looked back, uncertain and straight-faced while the pineapple-beast whispered: Shhh, no one needs to know...

"I have zero idea what you're talking about. This is a very cute shirt! And don't tell me it doesn't suit you, pizza freak!"

Sombra gave the shirt Cadance has so generously purchased the same look that foals gave to dogs they feared would bite them. Never dropping that distrustful look, he gathered everything else up in his magic, beating Cadance's protests.

"Hey! I was going to have you pick one! One thing!"

Snorting, Sombra waved the makeup around. "I'm choosing this. The rest of these tasteful items, I am stealing."

"Gods-darn it, Sombra. The shirt is cute.. I'd wear it myself but it's too big for me!"

"I'll stop stealing your eyeshadow if you let me take all of these without a fuss."

"Yes, yes thank you! Spare my eyeshadow your wrath." As if preparing to faint, Cadance raised a forehoof to her forehead with purposely shaking motions, letting the start of a giggle slip as she hugged the shirt to her chest with her other foreleg.

"I will, however, be raiding your mascara from now on."

"SOMBRA, NO!"
> Famulus [One Shot] [Unfinished] [Scrapped?]
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Princess Celestia stifled a shriek at the sight in her writing room, and instead allowed herself an immensely undignified squawk of cough. The air caught in her throat caused her to let out one more hack, and the ungraceful sound was strange to even her ears.

Golden inkwells had heir contents spilled upon the carpet. Shredded paper was here and there. Tiny scritch-scratches tore at the thread of her lovely magenta pillows, which were now mottled with oozing black splotches. 

Crowning this disaster was not the little talon-prints in the same ink across various parts of the room, but the spilled tea.
The spilled tea that she had brought back only moments before and was most certainly piping hot.

Small puffs of noxious smoke reached the princess, and she coughed, her eyes wide with worry. The stench of singed fabric stuck to the back of her throat, its odor an unwelcome coating she could not swallow.

But it was the crying that caught attention most, for the pitiful wails of a child grated in her ears, and that was how she knew the spilled tea had caused almost as much problems as her phoenix. 

She did not mourn the smashed cup of Prancian porcelain, but cantered over to the tiny, scared dragon close to her pillows. 

Spike...

In her mind, she still saw his green eyes bright with innocent charm as he had played beside her while she worked and Philomena napped. Now, they were aflame with innocent pain, something that she had only ever seen in infants when they encountered harm in the world of colors, smiles, and coos that they had previously cherished.

The princess heard a gasp escape her. Spike was near her shattered teaware, hiccuping sooty screams and crying. His tender young scales were scaled and pained-looking from the hot drink, and her teabag was caught between two of them, and was only jammed in further by how he tossed about. 

"Oh, Spike..."

She fell to her knees with a roughness even she did not expect from herself. Her horn flared with golden light that was no longer its usual mild hue, but one with more focused yellow undertones. 

Spike whimpered when the magic ran delicately over him, and the sound made Celestia wince.

Good, good. He can still feel this.

"Shh, it's alright, sweetie. I'm here now." And I never should have gone to get a snack if this is what I was going to come back to...

Celestia dismissed her barb of self-criticism, shoving it away for later so she might concentrate her efforts on the baby drake.
> Windigo's Breath and the Dance of Death [Poetry]
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


First there was only a nip in the air
that trickling bitter chill that found each coat's every hair
Second came an early storm of snow
but there was no need to panic when everypony still saw the sun's glow
Third came the constant realization that every-tribe still had no ally
with their increased fury, carnage and storm continued to multiply
Fourth was the word of the Unicorn King on his throne
to force the pegasi to bring an end to the cyclone
Fifth was unicorns and pegasi in yet another war
leaving earth pony fields burdened with countless gore
Sixth is each never-ending war to drive us closer to doom
until each has seen enough to beg for a return to the womb
Seventh is the earth ponies who rise from their squalor
with stallions, mares, and foals wearing war's own collar
Eighth is the spirits unearthly and howl through the ice
bringing unnumbered violence to make all before seem like paradise
Ninth is a meeting in but a poor hut
with every tribe trying to figure out how to exit this rut
Tenth is all yet to be told in this narrative of endless strife
as the only living these ponies know is on the edge of a knife





> Failed Footnotes #1 [Lore]
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sorrel's Law: After the events of Forever Mare, Princess Celestia is quick to create a law establishing mandatory suicide watches in hospitals and similar establishments, where their safety is to be ensured and they are to be treated compassionately and carefully during monitoring, either because it was asked for or because the creature in question was determined to be clearly at-risk. In the vocabulary of the common pony, the formal names is disregarded for calling it 'Sorrel's Law' or just the suicide watch law (though, there would be a different procedure for the criminal justice system; Sorrel's Law being a strictly civilian equivalent). However, most ponies wouldn't know why exactly it is called 'Sorrel's Law' because the only thing it would trace back to is a grave in Canterlot, one bearing the name Sorrel Lace and a modest amount of information regarding the sanctuary hospital patient. 

(This would be much like how most people only know of something like the Amber Hagerman Act because of the murder of the girl. So, Sorrel's Law would only garner some kind of connection of the titular 'Sorrel' being a pony who killed themselves.) 


---


Pansexuality: To creatures in and outside of Equestria, pansexual is more of a slang than a sexual orientation. Somepony like Cadance would refer to somepony as pansexual to be courteous about their identity, while a formal document would classify them as bisexual. To call a pony pansexual would describe a pony who is sexually attracted to ponies of either sex (specifically including/emphasizing intersex), any gender, and that they are open to relationships with sapient creatures of species that could be described as notably different from them. The latter part would be considered the most important or defining part of the word, not just from how it really reflects the meaning of 'pan' but because in a world with multiple sapient species and mixed populations, whether somecreature is open to that kind of a relationship and can experience that kind of attraction is important. 

Starlight Glimmer states herself to be pansexual in Wishing Werelights, but maintains a relationship with a unicorn mare, which isn't exactly interspecies. Celestia would not be considered pansexual because she lacks same-sex attraction; instead ponies would term her as just being heterosexual but with an openness to interspecies unions. Luna's status as such would be dubious because as an asexual, she'd firstly be panromantic over pansexual if she was. She shows mostly heteroromantic leanings even if she's bi, and her partner is still an equine. (Twilight and Celestia, as an example, would not be a pony-pony relationship, but they are both equines, just as Sombra and Luna are.) 


---


Ponies normally do not wear clothes, but not wearing any in a situation where it would be considered appropriate to is seen as having bad manners. Rarity was right to fret about them at the gala! 


---


Dragons do eat ponies, and a pony fearing it is realistic. However, dragons that do eat ponies are generally old and do not interact with other dragons, making them deflectors from the already antisocial/asocial winged lizards and their migratory habits.


---


Foster care for ponies isn't as exploitative or risky as it can be for people. Though, ponies in foster care can still face the same problems. A pony I always thought of having this background was Fluttershy, but I never got around to writing a story that referred to it; even though I wanted to. 

Her unwritten backstory is Iceverse canon as it appears here, but isn't likely to appear again: Fluttershy's parents died at a young age, and Fluttershy was quietly passed from foster home to foster home. She didn't experience any severe trauma or big, sad Batman-and-orphans kind of beginnings. She was just an easy target for bullies, extremely anxious (as she is in show flashbacks and before Twilight came to Ponyville) and did not get a lot of nurturing.

When she fell to the forests near Ponyville (which Cloudsdale was drifting over at the time), Fluttershy decided to settle there. She eventually became an emancipated minor and built her cottage into what it is today. 


---


In the similar backstory-that-never-came-to-be for the unused Iceverse canon bucket is that Rainbow Dash had no mother. Well, obviously she did have one, but only technically. Mare or not, I've always seen her as someone who developed isolated from feminine influences; I just never decided if she had one dad or two, probably because I never got around to writing anything relevant to her youth. Or her in general. It's a shame, because I really like Rainbow Dash. 


---


As Truthfully and my other scrapped AJ and Rarity story describe, Applejack's mother isn't known to be dead. Her name is Apple Rose, making her Apple Rose the Second and named for Granny Smith's favorite cousin! Though, considering how important names are to ponies, being named after a relative that is alive would not have been taken kindly. Apple Rose just went by variations of Rose. 

What her life is like now is unknown beyond her having zero idea what has been transpiring in Ponyville and the lives of her foals since she took off.


---



End 1#

> Untitled #4 [Unfinished] [One-Shot] [Rarity/Twilight]
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Rarity, I'll slip in these," Twilight complained, kicking one of her rear hindlegs for emphasis. The silky purple socks that she was wearing caught the sunlight in a way that only served to show off the elegance of Rarity's latest design, much to her marefriend's chagrin.

"Oh?" Rarity said, still not jolted from her current position - observing Twilight model her adorable new socks. There was a critical look in her sapphire eyes that silently critiqued her work from behind her stylish red framed glasses.
> Sombra vs. the Sun [Bonus Scene]
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The crisp flavor of cucumber burst in Celestia's mouth. Each lazy munch was that of a content mare, and though she found herself seated normally on a perfectly average day in the castle gardens, a different feeling crossed her mind. She was used to be unlike most of the other divine of the world, lacking real mysticism and an unchangeable sense of otherness held by the others. Was she not more like the marble statues of other gods made by her mortal subjects than the gods themselves?

Yes, certainly. She was well-aware that she was closer to a ponification of civic virtue than holding any ethereal quality, as the others did. Today was still one of the times when she could look upon those around her really feeling like a divine observing what could be dismissed as mortal antics, as hesitant as she was to ever use the term. 

After all, it was not every day her position as the solar deity was questioned.

"Lower it." 

Celestia swallowed. "When dusk falls, I will." 

"In the grand scheme of things, are a few hours absent from the day really going to matter?"

"I'm sure they would."

Sombra scowled and a flicker of telekinesis jerked at the hem of his hood. The attempt to pull it over his face again did nothing, not that he seemed to mind. His eyes were giving the sky a withering look. "You've never thought to make that an experiment?"

"No, I do not wish to interfere with the process of the heavens. Not beyond routine, at least."

"I don't recall there being any reports of harmful anomalies on the summer solstice Luna returned."

"There weren't," Celestia began carefully, "but when Discord returned-"

Sombra waved a forehoof dismissively. "That's more than diminishing daylight."

Celestia bit into her sandwich again and let sunlight prickle against her coat. "I think that is enough about the sun. It shall not be lowered before its scheduled descent."

"And if somepony else lowers it before then?" A pointed look was aimed at her, and Sombra nodded toward the sun. It was the same gesture that somepony made towards a friend, and the way that Sombra was now indicating the heavens themselves came across as so arrogant. 

"Luna is not going to lower my sun just because you asked her to."

"I'll do it."

Celestia's eyes widened before she could stop herself, and she ceased chewing. "You?!"

"Yes, me."

"What possibly makes you think you can raise my sun?"

"I've never tried to."

"So has every pony in Equestria!" Her mane let loose one large ripple of emphasis to go with her words. 

"None of them are gods," Sombra said. Tone-wise, he was speaking like somepony who merely didn't wish to bring an umbrella out when it rained, not like he was speaking about tampering with the heavens. 

Celestia swallowed again. Louder this time. A smile, closed-mouth and hiding everything tightly spread across her muzzle. Twinkles popped in her mane, shining just a touch brighter.

"That is true." And really, none had been able to have their magic so much as touch the sky even before her and Luna claimed the sun and moon. "I'll be watching."

Sombra offered a skeptical look and flicked an ear under his hood. "Very well, then."

Rising from his seat, Sombra sauntered to a more open area in the gardens. Summer breezes tugged at the edges of his cloak, mane, and hood. He tilted his head back to take one long look at the sky, uncaring about how his hood slipped off. What he could be looking for, Celestia didn't know; even after gazing around the gardens multiple times he offered no indication of what he wanted.

A few ear flicks later, and the start of a crimson glow was appearing around the curve of Sombra's horn. The color was what really made it obvious; he hadn't built up enough for the more opaque quality of his aura to show.

Admittedly, she thought that with how aggressive he was that Sombra would just charge his horn up with a blind rush of energy and expect it to last. It certainly seemed like something he would do. 

In Celestia's opinion - one fashioned from many lifetimes, mind you - watching a feat of magic live could be in the same field as watching paint dry. She supposed that was a reason both equally solid and superficial for her to not be at the entrance tests of every Faithful Student. (Of course, lessening pressure on the poor young one was also high on the list.)

Magic duels, while having an unsavory element to her regardless of their legality, often slipped into lengthy periods of two unicorns brandishing glowing horns and silently daring the other to do something. This kind of thing was tension to many, whipping up an atmosphere of bated breath that Celestia couldn't feel. It was a feeling she reserved more for bake-offs and antique shows.

Whole celebrations were built upon getting to witness divine magic - was it not every Summer Sun Celebration that ponies from all over the world flocked to the site of celebration and catch a glimpse of the sunrise? Still, Celestia couldn't help but think that without the ritual and ceremony to such actions, they would be boring to watch, from the perspective of one in her position. The festival aspect of things was what really made things memorable.

This was why she didn't think much of Sombra's current display of magic. Plenty of unicorns thought that they could actually do even a fraction of what she could, or in moments of youthful boasts had shot their magic towards the sky, only to learn that their magic wouldn't even grace the clouds. Sunset had been one of those foals, and it took an astonishing amount of time to offer passive, in-circles reminders that she didn't have any ability over the sun, no matter how gifted she was.

Then she saw the peculiar crimson tint spreading through the sky. Sombra's horn glowed on, and spreading outward from that area was something like an odd mist. She could see that if she waved a hoof there, nothing would be felt, but there was a visible discoloration. 

"Goodness," Celestia gasped, her feathers ruffling, "what is...?"

Sombra cracked open one eyelid, leaking crimson light. He did not appear all that bemused by the sight, and shut his eyes again.

Reluctantly, Celestia folded her wings and watched, prepared to take action if the need for intervention arose. Already, she could see the hazy effect continue to spread, as water might seep into paper. 

The longer she held her breath anxiously, the more prolonged the gradual fade of that very same effect happened. Swallowing, she watched the process that so closely resembled evaporation. 

There was an extremely audible, rough scoff in Sombra's throat. Immediately after, the glow on his horn intensified to the level she would expect from a unicorn who got it in their head to try and create their own localized lighthouse beacon werelight.

Slipping her forehooves over her eyes blocked the majority of the aura. She wanted to say something, to exclaim anything about the force of the magic he was able to muster, but a sudden spike in the twinkling sound his magic accumulated made her wince.

"You musn't-!"

The rest of her words didn't come. Shattering her train of thoughts was the abrupt crash of sound and one final flash of light. Red crossed her vision, tinting everything still recognizable through the pigment of magic like the little punch-out glasses for films and comics, only there was no blue lens to go with things. A sweep of crimson aura shot upward, and when she could focus enough to lower her forehooves from her eyes, a strange sight greeted her. 

The way Sombra had cast his magic had registered as something similar to a flash-bang spell first, though the only difference she could determine with certainty between them was that nopony tried to move a heavenly body with a flash-bang spell. Now that she could see the aftermath, she gaped at how the odd, translucent patches of his magic shimmered as faint splotches high in the sky. Their patterns were easy to grasp, for they floated about in the same space where an unseen wave of magic would've been applied or a beam shot. Each grew fainter by the second, and the farther up in the sky they were - which did the feat a disservice in a way, because Celestia was looking up, able to see countless discolorations. 

"Just how far did your magic reach?"

Sombra sucked in a breath and wiped under his bangs with a sputtering movement of telekinesis. "Far," he managed, exhausted. "Unless you want to fly up and..." He trailed off, drawing another breath.

She was surprised he wasn't in horrific pain, or at the very least completely winded upon the ground. 

"I'm a bit tempted too."

Sombra stumbled slightly as he turned around, seating himself on the ground with uncharacteristic clumsiness. "How did I manage?" he asked, rubbing at one of his temples and wincing slightly. 

Celestia paused, mulling over possible replies. "Your magic has a reach unlike any singular pony's. Divinity has certainly given you enough range to..." Pursing her lips, Celestia looked to the skies again. "Gosh, Sombra..." Her composure slid, and she bit her lip sheepishly. There wasn't any standard for when others tried to claim her sun, or how to react to it. "You might have touched the mesosphere..."

Watching her try and hide a small gulp, Sombra then looked down at his forehooves in thought. "And nopony has ever managed that before?"

He didn't really sound like he doubted her, so she only offered a shake of her head. 

The sun had not been moved inches, the world was not tilted, and overall he hadn't done anything visible on the level that her and Luna did when they reached out with their magics. 

"Maybe," she said eventually, "your magic did go farther-"

"There's just no way of knowing," he pointed out. "I could try again another day, and bring some instruments. Or, maybe Luna and I could use an airship-"

"Airships don't go in space."

"I'm well aware of that, but even if I was higher off the ground, there could be a more visible result-"

She dismissed him with a wave of her forehoof. "As I had been saying, your magic might have gone just a bit farther and the potency of it was simply non-existent because of how far you pushed it out."

"I'm not used to casting it at the sky."

She nodded. He had managed to control the Crystal Empire with magics that had a record range, but attempting to reach from a planet surrounded by the sun and moon was so obviously out of his depth. 

And yet, that didn't make what he did anything less than a powerful feat rarely seen in this age.

(There could be something worrying about that. A worry-atop-worry sort of thing.)

"Most aren't," Celestia said, offering a smile. 

While Sombra tilted his head back to observe the sky, Celestia returned to her sandwiches and the simple enjoyment that came with observing how her sun shone across the gardens.
> Dancer & Watcher [Poetry]
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------





Rain loosening her mane
She jumps alone
and splashes
a whole mess of mud
to wear in patches
for her dance
with steps meant for every puddle
to squash each bit of grass
stir every flower
and throw her laughter
past her fuzzy blue body
and little wings
so the sky can see
her smile that dwarfs the moon
but when the storm ends
She will scoop up all her wonder
and all her laughter
to keep inside
until it rains again
because this little dancer
is a flower that blooms
best in her own way







As the pitter-patter
makes all mud splatter
she dares not leave the shade
offered to her by the branches
of her tough perch
knowing that below is a sea of muck
in which her sister dances
Refusing to risk
sniffles, dirt, and mud caked into her mane
of the softest pink
she shivers and squeaks
hugging her fluffy body
to the tree's bark
feeling rather mature
and just a bit chilly
when the rain passes
she knows there will be flowers
waiting just for her
but for now
she is the watcher above
something that gives her
a familiar feeling


> Murder, Marigold, and Mini Sandwiches [One Shot] [Friendshipping] [Luna/Sombra/Cadance]
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cadance swirled her fork in her magic, only picking at fruit medley. Of all the things she could have packed for lunch, and she had picked the laziest option. Delight at visiting Sombra and Luna in Canterlot had monopoly over her attention when packing her share of the picnic lunch. And she chose to make - and eat most of - the fruit medley. Sombra hadn’t touched it, insisting there was a disproportionate amount of honeydew. Luna was too busy levitating samples of everything else towards her to nibble at between conversation; her attention was fixed on Sombra, and there was a shine in her eyes that she had just for him. While Cadance hadn’t seen Luna sample the medley, a few pieces had gone missing when she wasn’t looking, and that was confirmation enough. 

She popped a forkful of watermelon in her mouth, enjoying a burst of flavor and looking up at the clouds. Wispy rings swirled around Mount Canterhorn, each a wide ripple across the bright blue sky. With such a perfectly relaxing day, one would think that the discussions at such a picnic would be pleasant, light things.

That ‘one’ in question would not be Cadance. Befriend the weirdos, and the weird shall follow. A crazy demon and his goth girlfriend were not a normal combination, and you know what? That was perfectly okay. One hundred and ten percent definitely completely okay. Heck, it even made them cuter together, and Cadance was hooves-down the number one fan of these two. 

Even when conversations get freaky. 

“...and multiple ponies perishing from exsanguination was not enough for magical matters to be suspected?”

Sombra shook his head, black bangs brushing falling over his eyes. “You would think so.” He thrust the book he was levitating closer to Luna. “The initial investigation into the Manehattan Blood Magic Murders was abysmal until somepony who could be identified was killed.” 

Sombra snorted, and Cadance swiveled her ears toward him. She focused on how Luna nodded with an understanding she didn’t mimic. Perhaps trying to scarf down fruit in the face of this conversation topic was why. Perhaps.

“To think that the guard was at such a loss in such dire times…” Luna murmured, leafing through the pages with her turquoise glow. “A strong registry of one’s subjects and a blade to the neck of any underworld that threatens to emerge is an invaluable asset to one’s nation.” 

“I think there was more to the failure than that,” Sombra said, the critical edge to his voice clearer to Cadance than the depth of their immersion on such a morbid matter. “Intuition isn’t an instinct.”

“My sister has always struggled to manage criminal matters,” Luna replied, shrugging. “Her time alone has the clear underpinnings of just how much she needed somepony more knowledgeable to be there for her. A serial murderer is a breed whose nature is entirely unknown to my sister. Monstrous minds are what I picked apart and stalked, she merely condemned them. I must say it is humorous how erroneously ‘mage’ is misused to describe an earth pony!” She chuckled, and Cadance blinked. 

Sombra gave a dry scoff. “Certainly. That’s still something more glaring - what I find odd is her occupation.” A cold smirk tugged at Sombra’s muzzle and he tapped a hoof to one page once he found it. “A general store clerk is neither subversively unassuming, seemingly ironic, or obvious.”

“Sombra, she worked as an unskilled laborer. For somepony who had to mask such corruption and violence in their life, to work at something so undemanding offered this Marigold much more time for her nefarious schemes.”

Sombra’s black tail swished in an arc across Cadance’s picnic blanket. “Yeah, that does give some purpose to why. Mares don’t usually kill how she did. Even her methods were different - she wasn’t that bright, and there’s still no record of her using anything close to her other than the Alicorn Amulet to supply her attacks. I can only describe that as her overlooking resources or monomaniac effects of dark magic.”

“According to your book, the latter seems far more plausible, Som. The mare was out of her mind.”

“Listen you two,” Cadance interrupted teasingly, “are you just gonna gab about this weird murder stuff all day?”

“Perhaps,” Sombra said, arching one eyebrow and following the tilt of Cadance’s head with a flat stare. 

“We hadn’t meant to neglect you so,” Luna added, smiling and rustling the feathers of her neatly folded wings. “Perhaps you would like us to fill you in?”

“Uh,” Cadance flicked an ear and made her wings mimic a crooked shrug. “Sure?”

“You get her caught up,” Sombra said, transferring his book to Luna’s magic. He levitated a plate of daisy sandwiches in his direction.

“Very well,” Luna accepted it and calmly turned to Cadance, pursuing the pages as she continued. “The mare we speak of is so-called Blood ‘Mage’ of Manehattan, an earth pony and serial murderer when my sister reigned alone. She is an obscure and morbid part of our kingdom’s history, being the first known owner of the Alicorn Amulet and a bastard to the Blueblood family.”

“Ohmigosh, they had those?” Cadance squeaked, nearly choking on a grape.

“She was the only one,” Luna said solemnly. “Her homewrecker dam was the subject of much scorn after Miss Marigold’s birth.”

“Wait, how could she have kept the Blueblood name if she was a bastard?” Cadance asked. “And is this going to be a real conversation we all have from now on? Strange murder facts hosted by you weirdos?”

“Somepony says that like it’s a bad thing,” Sombra retorts, that familiar, no-good smirk creeping back into view. 

Luna smiled impishly at Cadance’s words. “For somepony with our backgrounds this is quite the typical conversation. A young ruler like yourself should be concerned with the safety of one’s subjects from all possible perspectives.”

“Well...” Cadance drew out the word, conceding, “when you put it that way, it makes sense. I just don’t get why ya care that she’s a mare, yo. Isn’t a freaky murderer a murderer either way?”

Sombra brought a forehoof to his cheek, dragging it down to his sharp jawline in a dramatic display of exasperation. “I don’t know, Pink One. Why would somepony’s gender matter in their relationships? Aren’t ponies the same regardless of gender? Surely there’s no important differences between them that would impact how they-”

“Okay, okay, Sombra!” A fork twirled swiftly in her blue magic and Cadance looked over at Luna. “Sooo... why does colt or filly-”

Sombra raised one eyebrow critically. 

“-or, uh, spooky dark magic have to do with how somepony would kill? Or why?”

Luna still held her wise smile. “Key differences in any creature are wont to influence how one behaves. As vile as some deeds can be, that does not take away from their complexity or need to be understood. That which you see in such a situation as inconsequential can play an important role in impacting the methodology of the morbid.”

Cadance only gave a flat, “What.”

Luna chuckled at the sight of the other mare’s far-eyed stare. “I suppose I cannot expect you to have the words for that which you hadn’t offered much thought to before. To offer a simpler situation: between a mare and a stallion, and with no other factors accounted for, who is the more likely to poison another pony?”

“Erm,” Cadance bit at her lip, both in thought and because she knew Sombra was scrutinizing her, “a mare?” she guessed.

“That is correct,” Luna replied, her cool eyes twinkling. “Yet, do you know why that is so?”

Colorful curls shifted with the shake of Cadance’s head. “Nopers!”

“A mare is less likely to utilize brute force due to the average mare’s slighter strength,” Luna’s posture straightened with a plucky pride and she rolled her withers, shooting her lithe frame an admiring gaze. “Though it is not something I have any experience with myself, I understand that stallions possess a greater average physical capability, and that mares prefer less confrontational methods out of practicality and are inclined to indirect, passive methods in such an area.”

Sombra nuzzled Luna’s neck affectionately, only pulling away from the adorable gesture to contribute to what Luna said. “Think of that specific hypothetical like communication. How much more likely are you to meet a passive-aggressive mare over a stallion? If the method of communication becomes a violent one, why would somepony abandon all their previous habits?”

“Oh gods,” Cadance gasped, “you two are making murder make sense!”

“Yes, yes,” Sombra’s crooked smile flashed briefly, “we’re such bad influences on you.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Luna added, smiling teasingly. “Might there be anything else still on your mind?”

“Well,” Cadance started, letting her thoughts gather and sampling some more lunch. “You two were talking about jobs. That was the really confusing part. Why would that be important? Isn’t it about the ponies and why they did something terrible? Why would I wanna know if some freak was flipping hayburgers? How do you even keep track of that?”

Sighing, Sombra flopped down to the ground. He let his mane fan out behind him when the rest wasn’t spilling out across his eyes, in its usual place. “Luna, if she keeps asking things like this, you’re going to have your work cut out for you – and for longer than I thought.”

An amused, gentle smile played across Luna’s muzzle. Her magic turned the pages in Sombra’s book with aimless glides. “Som, she’s only a novice. Our discussions may resume some other time. As for your questions, Cady, it is very important. Is a pony’s profession not some part of who they are when they are often marked for that very thing?”

“I guess when you put it that way–”

“...It highlights some fault in your assumptions, does it not?” Luna asked, tilting her head curiously. “The very hayburger cook you described could have been poisoning the very food they flipped. An investigation keeps track of that – and why would we not want to? Somepony utilizing the resources present in their place of employment brings forth many questions about what goes on there, much like a spy in one’s midst would bring about the same discussions.”

“Wait, so you and Sombra were thinking… your weird Manehattan gal was using things from a general store to kill ponies?”

“Ten points to Pink One,” came Sombra’s dry tone, “for realizing that yes, you can in fact kill ponies with the simplest of items if you get creative. Seriously, how did it not occur to you before – me-dammit, you can get rope at a general store, and that’s an obvious one.”

“Not all of us think about Murder 101 every time we go shopping, y’know. That’s for post-Hearth’s Warming agony phases and Nightmare Night, thank you very much.”

Luna cleared her throat. “Perhaps we could save our holiday homicide plans until the season approaches, or did you two wish to continue?”

“Go ahead,” Sombra said, magic plucking Cadance’s fruit medley right out of her grasp. He noted Cadance’s pitiful, silent look with a brief smugness and began to pick at the plate’s contents. 

Reluctantly, Cadance moved on, swiping a few trail mix treats with her magic before motioning for Luna to continue.

“So the job stuff… I think I get it now, but does all this mean there’s murderer ponies who like to have certain jobs?”

“Indeed,” Luna dipped her head into a nod. “That is very much the case – just as there are many kinds of ponies more likely to do some deeds than others, but I’m sure you grasp that.”

“Yeah,” Cadance felt herself nodding, understanding settling more comfortably over her. She nibbled her food thoughtfully, letting her eyes shine with bright focus. “Does this mean that there are some ponies that, umm, are more likely to hurt somepony just because of who they are?”

Confusion crossed Luna’s features, overflowing in her wide eyes. “If I understand what you mean, then the answer is not particularly. A condition hardly makes a murderer, and yet you know as well as eye that red flags are no falsehood. Is that what you speak of?”

“No, what I meant was, can a pony be more likely to kill another pony if their gender, y’know, means something that way?”

“Your question is rooted in a fallacy, Pink One,” Sombra cut in, scarfing down a watermelon cube. “What you mean to ask is if there’s currently more known serial murderers of one gender.”

“Yes, that’s what I–”

“Then,” Sombra continued, interrupting her with a swift, authoritative tone clearly coming from somepony who knew the subject, “the answer would be there are slightly more mare murderers – and only because it remains proportional to there being slightly more mares leading non-military lives. Everything remains proportional to the population as a whole.”

“Ooooh!” Cadance swallowed a granola treat quickly. “So then because mares might be more likely to pick certain jobs – there will be more freaky murder ponies of those jobs?”

“Some truth lies in your guess,” Luna clarified, combing at her mane momentarily with her hooves. “Careers are based in matters not just of commonality and disguise. A pony intent on committing such deeds would often want gain – be it materials, fame, or some other means of supplying themselves. Now, with that given to you: Cady, what do you think it is most of these ponies would do?”

“Journalism?” Cadance guessed, scrunching up her muzzle and flicking her ears. “Attention and travel access means they’d know just where to hide a body, yah?”

Sombra was giving her a funnier look than usual, fork frozen mid-bite in his magic. Luna’s look was calm, but unclear.

“Well, uh,” Cadance floundered, “what about gardeners? Everypony needs a gardener! They make bits and know how to dig! Beat that guess, Sombra!”

“I don’t need to guess,” he mutters, “most of these ponies drift to a collection of occupations – unskilled labor, forestry–”

“Which is basically just big-filly gardening.”

“–mercenary work, tinkerers, cart-ponies, couriers, and there are many who avoid having any job at all for the sake of wandering. Knowledge of natural and magical resources can certainly compensate when the risks of staying in Equestrian society just waiting to be caught can be inconvenient. Unemployment and disappearing holds merit, in that case.”

“Remind me to never, ever ask you how you know any of this.”

“Duly noted.”

Luna snorted. “Cadance, I can hardly believe you are an only foal when Som is around you.”

The tiniest bolt of lightning lashed out from Luna’s horn to zap a watermelon cube to ash. Cadance pretended not to hear Luna chiding Sombra for his aim.

“...Which of us is right, Luna?” Cadance asked, distracted with the desire for quick answers and by the curls that kept spilling around her cheeks. It was like they missed some memo that today she wasn’t in the mood for mane-managing. “Is it Sombra? Did he pull a big ol’ God of Smugness on me again?”

“That’s certainly a new one,” Sombra chimed, “I think I almost like it, too.”

Luna made no effort to hide her soft giggles. “Both of you are incorrect. The most popular profession among Equestrian serial murderers are medical ones – nursing, surgeons, and the like.”

Cadance’s mouth hung open and she let out a little squeak. “W-What?”

Sombra shot up, embers of skepticism and mild surprise already showing in his eyes. “Are you sure about that?”

“I’m quite positive,” Luna took in their expressions with a pleased smile. “As I sifted through justice history upon my return, I too, was shocked to see that the most known murderers in Equestria – particularly serial offenders – are overwhelmingly medical sorts, one of the very occupations that would oppose such conduct. Only with much meditation and more research did the reasons behind this becomes clear: a clinical atmosphere supplied with all one’s materials and an environment with a fair share of death make the perfect setup for foulness. As for the ponies –’tis easy to be drawn to such an atmosphere if one seeks to blend in and find unsuspecting outlets for one’s aggression and cruel tendencies. I found much regarding mares with varying levels and habits involving psychopathy that find a strong appeal in the field. Sombra’s guesses made up nearly everything that followed though – particularly unskilled labor and unemployment.”

Crimson magic sparked to life on Sombra’s horn, scratching behind one of his ears. “Count me surprised that pattern is the most prominent. I definitely have some reading to do.”

“Great, now I’m gonna be jumping out of my feathers the next time I have to visit a hospital.”

Sombra flicked his ears, a snake-like half-smile emerging. “Somepony should be in the hospital if she’s jumping out of her feathers.

“Sombra no!” Cadance protested, wings ruffling with offense. “You’re the one who is going to be reading some freaky stuff on how to make a kidney transplant go wrong, so you can’t be making those jokes.”

“First of all, who is going to stop me? Second, what makes you think I don’t already know these kinds of things?

“Luna, please have mercy on me.”

“Oh?” Luna’s smile widened horribly. “Why would I do that?”

“Because I know Sombra won’t.”
> A Chat With Blueblood [Deleted Scene]
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

She found Blueblood peering at one of the newer paintings in the less-traveled halls of the castle. He inhaled sharply, perhaps because he sensed her approach, or maybe to loosen the ascot that looked so tight around his neck. It could, of course, be one of his many usual sighs at something he had yet to be bothered about. That was always a very Blueblood thing to do.

"Hello, nephew. What brings you to the castle this morning?" Only when the steam curling from her coffee brushed her face did she know that a smile was on her muzzle. Maybe it had been there when she had been strolling, wishing to run into him; either way it had emerged as she needed it, expected it to, and Blueblood was given the same smile of the mare he knew as his aunt.

"Good morning, Auntie." He gave her a smile so thin he could have passed it off as the expression somepony made when sampling sour candy. She was certain that Blueblood knew his smiles were these brief, slim things too, because now that he wasn't a young colt, she had seen little else from him. "I wished to inquire about storage space."

Celestia brought her mug to her lips and considered his words with one long sip. On her mug, a sun wearing sunglasses flashed a bright smile. "Storage for what, Bluey?"

"Hrm. Just a few antiques." He cleared his throat with obvious displeasure. "I had the misfortune of securing some... surprisingly garish knickknacks when I expected good theatre posters." Blueblood huffed like a foal disappointed on their birthday. "Vintage pieces have zero right to be sold with..." One forehoof fluttered to his ascot, which as she expected, was plain-patterned so that it couldn't be arranged asymmetrically. "...knickknacks. Ugh, and there were a hoofful of these paintings that turned out to be so unsightly. Wanting to branch out from nouveau decor does not mean I want anything as messy as impressionist pieces in my manor."

"I... I see?" She really didn't; let her be the one member of the royal family - and yes, that label did not sit well with her - that was unfamiliar with all the intricacies of fine art. Knowing how quick Blueblood was quick to ascribe the quality of being unlikable or undesirable to anything not tastefully old had the more peculiar way of making her uncomfortable. "Move them here whenever you can, and I'll see what can be done about storage."

Numerous places in the castle were known to her eyes only, and while they were probably too much for simple storage, they were a safe option and available. 

The portrait he was looking at was an old version of the official royal one, though this was one she still deemed fit to be seen by the public. And herself. 

The Celestia that stared back toward anypony in the hallway absolutely oozed with unconstrained matronliness, and far too much of it. Her mane was somewhat shorter and her regalia was the same that she wore now. The way her cheeks were overly rosy stood out to her now, and so did the notable weight. The mare in the present was well-aware that she was plump now; seeing how the Princess Celestia of the past was heavier-set only stirred a discomfort she couldn't name. What she recalled most vividly was that this kind of oversaturated motherliness was a front she tuned down considerably after a decade or so.

What Blueblood found worth examining in the friendly portrait, she did not know, but wished that it was something of the technique or the warmth from the paints and fabric of her ruffled dress. In a few years, this painting would likely meet the fate of the others she had neither need or want for: quietly burned and forgotten or stashed in the various vaults she had, close to the caves of old Canterlote and below modern Canterlot. 

Such a picture of a chubbier, jolly, queenly, and mature mare would be stowed away to collect cobwebs to with other outdated Celestias, like the few pictures that managed to be retrieved from the Castle of the Two Sisters. On those canvasses that she kept out of a cocktail of guilt, anger, and unsavory emotions, a mare so obviously fully coming into final, adult marehood with hawkish eyes, a stern expression, shining tiara, and the ornate gown to show her status as a noble. 

That wicked sister was lost to time in favor of other incarnations that ponies believed was the only image of Princess Celestia in their lifetime - just as that war-like mare had once been when she pulled Equestria through war. 

And yet, to Blueblood she had only ever been 'Auntie' and all that such a term entailed.

"Thank you, Auntie. I'll see if I can have somepony from the the manor bring them over."

"Have them drop off anything in the throne room. I'll have some of the guard mange them."

Blueblood nodded, crinkling his muzzle suddenly. 

"Goodness, Bluey. Did you leave the wood stove on?"

Blublood's let out a little gasp from her teasing remark. "Not at all! Though, if I had..." One forehoof darts to Blueblood's muzzle and he looks about ready to nibble at his hoof nervously.

"Bluey, you know it was just a-"

"I know, Auntie, but imagine if I had," Blueblood fretted. "Just think of the chaos!" 

"Bluey-"

"All sense of order and safety-"

"Bluey," she repeated, more sternly this time. "Nothing of the sort will happen. Please just relax."

A rather unfortunate mixture could be seen in the flaws of a stallion who the public and a fan base of many a starstruck young mare, from Bluey's tendency towards theatrics, the usual echo of superstition that old families had rippling through them, and clear obsessive-compulsiveness that had plagued him for most of his life, and led to his obvious need to be physically immaculate. 

The way his blue eyes grew always brought back memories of a spindly colt who broke into tears when he came in contact with cobwebs and used to be terrified of going outside to play because he had declared it to be 'filthy'. 

Puffing out one last sigh that sounded so distinctly of the special kind of exasperation that only her nephew could manage, Blueblood wiped at his brow, sliding a hoof under his blonde flop of a mane. "That is easier said than done."

He bit his lip and hurriedly rearranged his mane so it was just as impeccable as before with a few touches of his magic. "I apologize, then. I didn't know that-"

"Auntie, there's no reason for you to apologize. Let's speak of something else, shall we?" He fixed her with an anticipatory look that had become a staple of all Blueblood's interactions with her. 

As a colt, that look punctuated every time he told her about a new Bridleway show that was selling tickets again. In his school years, it hung like a question mark for whenever he wanted something to make his uniform better than any other school-colts or for when he had just started requesting funds for parties his parents wouldn't supply him with. When he was an adult, that was a fraction of the look that he gave her when he came out, paranoid about a rejection that never came. 

Blueblood had never ceased to be about wanting. Amid all the wealth in his mature life and being a heir to a dukedom from birth, that look of his had always stayed, and it meant one thing more than ever: Bluey wants to ask Auntie for more bits. 

Bluey wants bits.

She wasn't going to be the one to deny him; nopony so dear to her was going to leave her side unhappy. For all the fault of her memory bore now, she knew that she had never said no to Blueblood's requests. It shouldn't have to be his fault. 

Bluey always wants bits.

Her stomach fluttered with discontent, but she gave him a bright, kindly smile. "I think that sounds like an excellent idea. There's something I've been meaning to ask you, if you wouldn't mind helping a silly old mare work out a few things."

Opening his mouth and closing it again, Blueblood nodded quickly, standing a little straighter. "Yes, what is it I can be of assistance with? Is one of the gardeners arranging the flowers odd? Has one of Princess Luna's moods made her withdrawn? Did any of Rae's correspondence get lost?"

"No, none of those things - Raven's letters are safe, too. I just wanted to ask you a few questions." She smiled at him again, more softly this time in order to match her tone. "How does that sound?"

One look at her usual ease and Bluey's worry dissolved into relieved laughter. "Just fine!"

A smile stayed on her muzzle and she nodded, mane giving a sluggish bob with the gesture. "I would like to know what you think of Sombra." 

Using his name around others was really no different than telling a foal of the Headless Horse or Pony of Shadows. Everypony, no matter how old, still had something of a boogey-mare reaction to his name, just as they swore by hers and Luna's; such was the effect of having a name with power and reputation behind it. 

"Well, the prince is..." 

Blueblood never called him 'uncle'. "Haven't you been having some get-togethers recently?"

Blueblood tapped a hoof at her innocent inquiry. "Yes, Shining Armor has brought him on enough stallions' nights in the city. Aside from that Prince Charmless isn't the most social type. He and I haven't had too much to say to the other for the most part." 

How odd, I thought that Bluey and Sombra would have clashed far more, knowing how those two are. "Does he talk more when Shining is around?"

"Yes, actually." Blueblood patted his mane and swished his tail with the thought. "A gentlecolt like Shining somehow manages to coax more words out of a stallion who is so similar assort to that student of yours - Miss Sparkle, that is. Back when she had little to say to anypony, only intellectual prattling on her mind, and was in nopony's circle but yours." 

Celestia bit her lip with discretion. Blueblood and Twilight had only ever known of each other, and that was still very much the case, even now. He wasn't somepony who strove to offend anypony, and yet his words still kindled the slightest defensive feelings in her. 

"Those two are as different as can be, what made you think to compare them?"

"Hrm," Blueblood half-shrugged, "I suppose it really is only because of the bookishness. He's hardly mannered company, and there's something so oblivious about his habits. Auntie, he conjures books from his gloomy study in pubs. There is no wealth of gossip to be found from talking to him. Talk of any or all forms of sports are lost on him."

"Would this be how he generally behaves?"

"Oh yes," Bluey nodded excitedly, invigorated by the chance to share even a morsel of near-gossip with her. "He's just rather daft. Especially for a god, I would think. Prince Sombra is all too willing to suggest bisexuality, and is so cruel that he will divulge nothing juicy about it! No common conversation can be had with him."

Well, that's something I never gave any consideration.

"How about uncommon conversation?" Celestia suggested. Already, Blueblood had given her a few tidbits that could be helpful: Sombra as the unsociable one of the trio, and speaking more freely around Shining Armor. The latter could surely help her with her learning anything more. "Does he ever do anything that's actually unusual?"

"Like?" 

"Does he ever mention his past?"

"A little?" Bluey's magic is tugging at his lapels. "The fellow is very moody. Sometimes he has these little outbursts."

Celestia had to control her expression to keep her eyes from widening too much. "Do you mean 'panic attacks'?" 

"Goodness, no. Those are when somepony is scared, and he's just a spiteful soul. Gods, he growls sometimes." Blueblood's last few words were spoken with an annoyed snippiness that was all the indication that if she poked around here any more, not only would Bluey have only vents about what he disliked in Sombra that would keep her from the rest of her day. Celestia certainly would be taking her leave soon, otherwise bits would be brought up again.

The sunny castle hall, cheery painting, and pale hues of her mane all swirled together with her smile created an atmosphere no different than the usual calm that came with Equestrian morning. (One that brought such a creeping unease when compared with her internal dissonance.) Who would think that an aunt and her nephew would be speaking of anything so grim when they appeared so genial?

"Thank you, Bluey. I think I know what I wanted now." Dipping her head in a grateful, familiar gesture, Celestia took her first steps away from her nephew. "Plenty more behavioral corrections could be added to Sombra's ongoing reformation."

Who would doubt such a normal cover for her questions?

Blueblood certainly didn't, and Celestia was able to take her leave peacefully.
> Mareijuana [Bonus Material] [Omake]
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The season of autumn was always brought to Canterlot gently. No earth pony magic was needed to remove leaves en masse or enact other preparations as boisterously as things were done in Ponyville and other places. It was one of the most calming transitions, and admittedly for a mare with… reservations… regarding most magical matters, Celestia found little to be wary of. There wasn’t that feeling of arcane meddling that snuck up on her among those who had little divide between using magic with the ease of breathing…

...or who were magic, in some regard.

She looked out at the gardens, where the elaborate system of ponds occupied this particular garden of the castle. On either side of her, the varying ponds were filled with a middling variety of uncommon fish pleasing to the eye. Many were koi gifted to Celestia by the staunch ally of Neighpon over the years, the colorful creatures darting among lily pads and cattails kept nourished with the enchanted all-season gardening meant to make the fish keep well in colder seasons. 

In the grand middle pond, away from a stone-table dining area were raised rocks with more recent runes placed on them. Celestia picked out a few that couldn’t escape her efforts of distance and un-Alicorn forgetting: heat, adaptation, ice resistance, control, and a few others more vaguely familiar than the bulk of that old system. 

There was no doubt to who made them; he was sitting right there, on the stones by the water’s edge. Sombra had his usual cloak spilling behind him, the crimson color having an eerie camouflage effect with the autumn leaves and changed foliage dominating the courtyard. Even his dour colors had a way of blending in with the season instead of looking overly gloomy and out of place. 

“What do you want, Celestia?” He hadn’t even flicked an ear - or anything, really - to show that he heard her coming. Her hoofsteps couldn’t sound so different on the cobbles from another pony’s, could they?

“Good afternoon, Sombra.” 

Sombra had been casting bits of lettuce into the pond, and when he stopped, so did the watery noises of a hungry fish from below. “I suppose it’s alright.”

“I just wanted to chat, if you really must know. Something has come to my attention, and I would like to dispel it if it is mere rumor.”

There. That had to be a good way to put things. Nothing necessarily made it appear that she had access to anything she shouldn’t, or that anypony else had been digging around where they were not welcome. When one enacts any kind of trade, their customers are sure to speak on the matter. Thinking that a mare at the top of all chains of information like herself couldn’t find out how Sombra acquires his personal funds through such a plausible means was unrealistic, regardless of how sneaky he could be. 

Sombra turned around, giving her a pointed look bordering on distrust. “And what is it you heard about me this time?”

“It’s nothing especially absurd, I’m you’ll see.”

He narrowed his eyes. 

“I uncovered a permit for selling cannabis in your name when I heard somepony suggest you were involved in the trade in passing.” Of course, nopony had told her what Sombra was involved in. 

“You checked the records and know I have a permit; I don’t see what else I need to explain. Hellfire, I’m doing nothing illegal.”

“I’m just a bit surprised,” said Celestia, tone polite and inoffensive. Her mane swirled peacefully. “I didn’t take you for somepony to get into a business that requires so much travel and upkeep. You pull that off how, exactly?”

“I know ponies who do the distributing,” he replied curtly. “You don’t need to know anymore about that, do you?”

He wasn’t really asking.

 “Not at all,” she said, supposing her words were true. She didn’t have to know every detail of what Sombra did for such a job, but goodness she wanted to have the luxury of keeping his activities under her hoof. “Though, I would have suggested you try something more local.”

“Yes, because getting a landlord’s licence and anything above what I have is so easy,” grumbled Sombra dryly, pulling off another bit of lettuce for his pet. “I certainly tried; there’s enough property in Canterlot to appeal to me, and I have a feeling nopony would skip rent if they knew I was who they were paying - I can be very persuasive.” 

“Ah, well, perhaps not for somepony of your background.” She gave him a sheepish smile and averted her eyes from his glare. “But if you find that works for you, then do what you must.”

“I can’t see why it wouldn’t. One of the Element Bearers does the same.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I don’t think there’s much to explain. Go look around the castle records for these permits, and you will find that one of the Element Bearers comes up if you search for permits granted to residents in the Everfreeshire. There’s only one town there, or have you magically forgotten that?”

“Not at all, I don’t do more than cross-check a permit application from the mayor to be sure no criminal background is found before giving the final Seal and Royal Signature. Did you think I committed every name to memory? Gracious me, which Bearer is it that possesses a cannabis merchant permit?”

“The plain one.”

“Plain?” Celestia echoed. Any of them could be ‘plain’ by Sombra’s biases, and she only could rule out Twilight Sparkle for the owner. “Is it Applejack?”

“No, I said it was the plain one. Is she really what comes to mind when you think of ‘plain’?”

“Is it Pinkamena Pie?” 

“No, I’m talking about the weak-willed, bug-eyed one.”

“...Rainbow Dash?” Celestia guessed, aware that Sombra’s unhelpfulness was why she was floundering. 

“The other pegasus.”

“Oh, Fluttershy! I must say, her and I have only talked a few times. The one time she came to the Grand Galloping Gala with her other friends and the Smooze was spectacular. Now, you mean to tell me that she has this permit?”

“More than that. I looked into more records about her. Other than freelance work with wildlife and pets, her only other income is through glorified crafts and cultivating huge quantities of cannabis on her land. Seriously, did you think she was a certified veterinarian? Or that whatever services she offered wold pay like one? That mare is terrified at the thought of breathing in a gnat, what makes you think she could keep anything close to a steady practice for non-sapients open?”

“Oh my, I had always just assumed…” 

“That she wasn’t growing a few acres of the stuff?”

“Yes, that’s one way to put it. Though, I do think it explains one of her friends. You see, she brought this odd guest with her to that particular Gala. She said they were both in the Equestrian Society for the Preservation of Rare Creatures. If you happen to be going through any such files again, do look up the name ‘Tree Hugger’ for the sake of satisfying my curiosity.”

“With a name like that, I don’t think I really need to.”
> Sombra's Sombra [Drabble] [Awkward Friendshipping] [Shining Armor/Sombra]
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"So... here you go. A little something from me and Cady." Shining's voice was uncertain, the tone clear: he was interacting with somepony who was difficult to gift things. It was one of the worst things to be, right up there with chaos gods and Monday mornings. 

Sombra frowned at the expertly wrapped box. That wasn't a good sign. "You know my 'birthday' is more for formality's sake, don't you?"

Shining grinned sheepishly. It was June 20th, and that's when Cady said that Shining Armor should give Sombra his gift and that she wouldn't be able to make the trip to Canterlot with the Andalusian trade treaties needing to be arranged today. This was a horribly elaborate way to say-by-not-saying-at-all that meant Shining would be stuck having to bring Sombra his birthday gift. 

"Does that mean you don't like it?"

"I haven't opened it," Sombra muttered. "You two just really shouldn't have gotten me anything. I don't celebrate these kinds of anniversaries."

Really? He's the exact sort I'd think would jump to celebrate himself for a day. "Well, Cady picked it out. If you really don't like it, you can always write her a letter about it."

"Just stick with a card next time. Or nothing. That works better."

"Gotcha."

Focusing his magic on the obscenely large bow Cadance had picked out, Sombra tugged a few times. The red ribbon fell in a neat ring of coils and he began pulling off the paper with much less careful nonchalance. When that was done, Sombra regarded the box with what Shining thought was best described as boredom of the highest caliber. 

Sombra flicked an ear and brought the card held with a rope cord closer to his muzzle. "This is the address of a doll maker," he said flatly.

"Yep."

"You're not going to be particularly helpful until I open this box, are you?"

"Probably not."

"Fine. Let's see what voodoo accessory is probably in here."

From within shells of tissue paper, Sombra pulled out a very obvious item with casual movements of his telekinesis. The doll rose up to hover near the grumpy gray stallion's muzzle. 

Sombra blinked. "This isn't lessening my suspicions of zebra voodoo."

The doll's gleaming red eyes didn't blink from under the miniature black bangs it possessed. 

Sombra crinkled his muzzle, and with one flick of crimson, he gave the curved horn an experimental tap.

"I'm not sure which is worse: you two being able to get me a gift that I like or this particular addition," Sombra said, brining a forehoof to tap the gleaming band around the Sombra-doll's neck bearing an alexandrite center ringed with a circle of pearls, "reeks of your Pink One's doing more than anything else."

"You could just say 'thank you'."

"Oh, I could."

Sombra smirked, clutching the plush look-alike in his hooves before hugging it close, rubbing the soft coat against his cheek.
> Horrible Words [Twilight/Celestia] [Friendshipping] [Original Minific]
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

I shall not disparage destiny, because I have always had little else to believe in, but my heart is still filled with doubt. Even as I watch you leave me for the first time, I cannot be proud. I feel nothing like the page’s mother sending away her only colt with dreams he will become a knight. I do not think this because I know the cheapness of dreams, but because without you, Twilight Sparkle, I have little to look forward to. 

I have always had a desperate need of you, one I have never been able to bring myself to show. My need of you has been greater than the need for anypony else in my eternity, though I would never blatantly put that pressure on you. How could I say such a thing? That, I, the goddess have a greater need for you than you did for me when you were a filly? There are many fears that crawl up my throat so desperately as I watch your chariot depart, and I could not bear to voice any of them. Goodness me, I am burdened by the mere thought of all this emotion, and it weighs upon me more than crowns and chariots. 

Is it any wonder I have always envied the statues in my garden? 

Here I stand, in the city, I have built for another, and the nastiness of powerlessness is upon me. I don’t want to watch you go because I have never wanted you to leave me, but I always knew I would have to make you do this. Such is destiny. Such is fate. I have always said that destiny, and dear life itself, never let bad things happen to good creatures. Only those who are wicked will ever find even the smallest amount of wickedness come back to them. And is destiny not the harmony I want you to discover for yourself? 

The thing that pains me the most about your great destiny, Twilight Sparkle, is that I cannot orchestrate every step of it myself. You cannot comprehend how dearly I want to pluck every string in the symphony of your life, to give you reward beyond measure, and heroism without risk. Instead, I find myself idle and unable to lift hoof or horn to help you.

Even if I could, how could I help you against that which I could never face myself?

Who I could not face myself. The same who I have always had to stare down and say was a storybook legend instead of my own sister. The same sister who you have spoken of as an utter monster and breezie tale paragon of evil for as long as you have lived, as have all my other Faithful Students. You do not remember all your foalhood naivete and first stumbling steps to analyze the breezie tales that never made enough ‘sense’. 

But I do. 

And now that you are gone, I am left with only my horrible words.
> Failed Footnotes #2 (Lore)
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The word 'xenophile' would has a double-meaning in the context of relationships to sentient species, but not to the point of being considered obscene. It would describe not just a creature fond of travel, other cultures, and places but any creature who also possessed the preference/openness to relationships with sapient species different from and other than their own. This would help differentiate it from zoophilia/beastiality (a crime against non-sapient species). However, unlike pansexulity in the context of the world, it would only be used to describe or label those who were monosexual (i.e. just homo/heterosexual). A pansexual griffon would not be considered a xenophile but somepony like Celestia who wouldn't fit the definition of pansexuality would easily be described as a xenophile.

---

Adding to the bit with Fluttershy's early life in the previous part: I've actually found Zephyr Breeze an amusing suck-y sibling and contrast to Fluttershy. So, he'd most likely exist and be very similar to his in-show self, but have no connection to Fluttershy beyond blood because both would've been raised in separate foster homes, thus being entirely unaware of one another unless they wanted to look into their records. 

---

Ponies with 'human-esque' names would've been a notable part of history, but with limits and context. The names would've been more prominent in older societies (like that of the Tribal Era ponies) and a sign of notable heritage (not exclusively nobility, though). Sigurd Goldenrod (Through the Snow) would be an example of the kind of 'format' to the name, though in the present-day it would generally be seen as uncommon and somewhat out of fashion (but not terribly so) which means that ponies who have names like Gaylord Blueblood would be flexing antiquity and a long-running family tree while trying to prevent members of the family from having the exact same name, even if they went by a 'common name' or 'clan name' (i.e. all ponies holding the Duchy of Canterlot going by Duke/Duchess Blueblood).

The names would be limited, though. Names like Lyra, Leo, Perseus, Roland, Amira, Griselda, Sakura, or even William would be expected or normal, but ponies exceedingly human names (c'mon, I'm sure you can imagine what those would be like) wouldn't pop up. 

---

Scootaloo has parents who she lives with in Ponyville. They aren't abusive, cruel, or even remotely awful to her. She hasn't suffered any devastating injury or trauma. In fact, her parents are astoundingly normal Equestrians, they just are very dedicated to demanding jobs and providing for their only daughter in the long run that they have little time to be with her. As a result, she's essentially grown up via loosely 'free-range' parenting and as an outdoorsy filly (who just happens to be really good at escaping her foalsitters too, she has crusading to do!).

---

Because ponies and most creatures don't usually wear collars and full-on suits, terms like white/blue collar (especially in the context of 'white collar crime') wouldn't exist using collar. Instead, they'd use 'tie' instead. 

---

A notable subculture in Equestria for LGBT ponies would be mares who realized that they were gay because of how they thought of Princess Celestia - much like how many same-gender attracted people realize they're so because of a famous or iconic person that they discover they felt attracted to. Celestia (unknowingly) would have made generations of young mares realize their attraction for other mares once they sorted out that their admiration and loyalty to her was beyond how a subject would see their ruler. She'd be the notable first puppy love/celebrity crush of many who would (loosely) see her as a credit to discovering and cementing their identity, even if they never truly met her. 

The subculture would be called 'Celestial lesbians' (and of course, it'd be capital, seeing as these mares wouldn't exactly be extraterrestrial in any sense, and wouldn't be the same as other identifiers that could be used in tandem (butch, femme, lipstick lesbian) but largely based in fashions, literature, and aesthetics that really honed the 'Celestial' part of the name, using Princess Celestia as a source of inspiration for highly feminine, regal, and posh looks derived from observable aspects of Celestia herself. (Considering the source of inspiration and styles of Celestia, it'd still be very likely that the Celestial lesbian looks would fall more neatly under femme and lipstick lesbian fashion than anything else,)

(Side note: Raven would be considered a Celestial lesbian.)

---

Ponies and Alicorns are egalitarian in culture, nature, and how they run things. Family names can be taken on from either a male or female and are not considered any more special for any particular order. Masculine and feminine roles would still exist, but they would be blurred and not fussed over nearly as much. Very few occupations would have a one-gender majority, and gender rations in crime would generally be more evened out from a societal and cultural point. (Example: a stallion or mare could be equally likely to be seen as a murderer, but obvious things, like victims of matricide would obviously only be female and somepony who were to victimize others in an area that happened to have a higher population of one gender - but not base their victim profiles on gender - wouldn't be committing crimes because of gender bias and sexism but out of fucking convenience.)

---

With the exception of Platinum and Clover, all of the Founders of First Equestria did go on to have foals. Their bloodlines still exist today, but seeing that there's over a thousand years between them and their modern legacies, very few would be anywhere near as famous as their ancestors. In fact, the ponies whose blood is distantly shared with the Founders would have about as much collective infamy as a grocery store clerk. Filthy Rich would be more well-known.

None of their bloodlines presently would intersect with any of the Mane Six, either.

---

Pony lifespans don't exceed 250~ years, including all mortal races. The founding of Ponyville really did happen a few centuries ago; Granny was right (and she's really old)! Their age of majority (which has cropped up in my stories numerous times, but whatever) is sixteen, and Alicorns would have it the same, at least once they reach the mortal year equivalency of sixteen. (Something of an allusion to how real-life horses are full-grown at six years old, too.) 

The longest lived pony known on record would undoubtedly be somepony's grandmother or grandfather who would've proudly held onto this fact like the feather in their cap that it would be to them.

But they wouldn't really be the longest-lived pony. That would go to Freyja Blueblood, a mare nopony would've really heard of. The firstborn, first member of what would go to onto become the House Blueblood, one of the longest-lasting mortal houses in the known world, one favored by royalty itself.

Freyja Blueblood was born to Sigurd Goldenrod, a Tribal Era unicorn lord, and Celestia when she was still under Starswirl's hoof. Unable and unwilling to keep the foal, young Celestia wanted to spare the young one from Starswirl and make sure one less thing kept her from a future in politics. Sigurd was a stallion who had a young lover's fondness for her, something she returned. While not as keen of mind compared to Celestia, the fellow was good at heart and offered her stability that came from being a good lad who was level-headed. He hung around the Unicorn Court on a lord's soldier duties, where the young heir wasn't regarded as highly as his more senior unicorns, and there he and Celestia hit it off. Compared to the (sometimes older) stallions more intent on manipulating, discarding, and not giving the young mare (though, to be fair she would've been hanging around that Court since she was a teen, sometimes getting her heart broken in the process) the seriousness she rarely found in her time with them. 

Her rampant attraction to quite a few stallions she found to be noble, well-groomed, politically intriguing, hot, and was quick to fall into flings and intense dalliances with strings of stallions she deemed heart-throbs that went about as soundly as her mental health. A young mare with progressive politics she yearned to express from an abusive foster household had all but fallen into a pit of snakes that were only pleased depending on how she twisted the knife of whatever persona she crafted - or drifted into - and an intense need for any kind of company or attention and risky, somewhat hedonistic flairs was far from a good place. However, a country bumpkin of a noble with a real liking to her and real faith in some of her ideas offered a safe space she hadn't previously had, and her taste in stallions had turned up a good catch. 

Sigurd was deployed in inter-tribal wars often, and there were times when Celestia wouldn't get to see him while he managed the borders, his country estate, and fought in battles. This put a lot of strain on the already stressed and unwell Celestia, and when the two had periods when they were reunited, there was always some desperation about whether Sigurd would come home. 

Then Celestia found out that she was with foal - obviously not something the young Alicorn would've considered - and Sigurd, who had to learn so from a panicked young Celestia, was soon to be sent out on duty again. Needing Sigurd and knowing he, a young lord, could provide for a foal where she could not, Celestia made no small trip through the peasant country of the Unicorns, going alone and having to avoid anything more than the poorest villages if she could, after preparing herself for a leave of Court and coming up with sufficient excuses for such a trip.

Freyja Blueblood was born at Sigurd's manor, and was left there with instruction from Celestia. Among her words was to never let the foal know her true parentage, to disguise that she wasn't a lawful heir, and that they absolutely could not maintain a relationship anymore, whether they loved one another or not. 

Celestia was horribly unlucky to have to make what was already a traumatic journey to the estate back to the capital city of the unicorns; back to Starswirl and his rage, a sister she couldn't stand and didn't want, and a life she would claw herself from with every effort to clutch a crown one day. 

Freyja Blueblood was lucky both her parents were white-coated unicorns and that shortly thereafter her father would marry a unicorn mare with a white coat, who could easily pass as the mother of white-coated, silver-freckled, green-eyed, pink-maned, little Freyja - and she did, until the day she died. Sigurd had his happy wife, Freyja went on to carry on a new name: Blueblood, not Goldenrod. She lived to migrate to new, united Equestria in the Tribal Exodus. Her (step)mother lived to see the time of Discord, while Sigurd himself died when Equestria was still under the Triarchy's reign, never having any contact with Celestia again. 

Freyja was a peaceful soul who went on to live alone and content for an outstandingly long time, the Alicorn blood doubling her pony lifespan in ways nothing else ever could and allowing her to live to a little over four hundred years old. This made her something of a real-life folk figure in the rural area she lived in, and drew quite a bit of speculation and awe in other towns. Eventually, word of this mare would've reached Celestia, who post-Discord and pre-NMM would have initially been confused, knowing nopony could live so long. Worried that remaining magic from Discord could be making something about the mare seem like more than she is, possibly making her ill and playing tricks on the ponies who live in the thriving countryside she hails from. 

Celestia travels to see the house of this elderly mare, trying to find any explanation, including thinking that the elderly unicorn is just another pony trying to set up a hoax by claiming to be so old due to the general lack of records in the era. When the mare introduces herself as Freyja Blueblood, a widow whose foals have all left her, Celestia internally knows the mare is telling the truth... and that she can never let this be known. Freyja continues to take tea with Celestia, never knowing the Alicorn mare is her daughter, nor does Celestia ever act in any way that suggest she is more than a friendly ruler to the mare, and Celestia listens to all the mare's stories of her early life in the Tribelands and her time with her beloved family. This gives Celestia a secondhand and totally unasked for chance to 'catch up' on what Sigurd did with the rest of his life, and the happy times he had with his wife while Celestia pursued a life under the crown.

She leaves, shaken by the meeting but relieved her secrecy is intact, and returns to the Everfree. Shortly after, she receives news of Freyja Blueblood's death, and returns to the mare's home region once again, where she ensures that the mare's approximate age at death is 'corrected' and Freyja Blueblood is laid to rest with an unquestioned, utterly normal mortal lifespan upon her grave. Celestia attends the funeral, wishing prosperity to the Blueblood House. She leaves, once again. Only this time, she keeps track of the House Blueblood and the ponies in it. After Luna is banished, and Celestia returns from her journey north in Autophobia, she finds the current Blueblood ponies and invites them to Canterlot, offering to adopt the head of the Bluebloods at the time as an honorary 'niece/nephew' and grant them a lavish estate in the new layer of modern Canterlot, and to pass the title and wealth they will garner from such favor down for generations.

---

'Mage' is a title only applicable to unicorns, as it is a magical profession that could only be realistically filled by a unicorn - or, by extent, a demon, Alicorn, demigod, draconequus, etc. 

Zebra, earth, crystal, and pegasus ponies could not be Mages, nor could creatures like dragons, goats, minotaurs, or horses. 

---

Ponies are obligate ovi-lacto-vegetarians. Other equines, like Alicorns, breezies, zebra, horses, mules, donkeys, are the same. However, other equines like demons, sea ponies, and sirens are different, while Alicorns do not necessarily need to eat. 

Cattle, minotaur, buffalo, deer, moose, yak are also ovi-lacto-vegetarians. 

Jackalope and sheep are obligate herbivores. 

Reapers have an unknown diet, if they eat at all. Ghosts don't eat shit, they're fucking dead. Timberwolves will attack ponies and other creatures, but whether they'll actually eat anything is a mystery, but to be called 'timberwolf food' would be a common saying interchangeable with 'wolf/buzzard food'. The same goes for jinni, who are unlikely to eat. Undead would not consume anything that conventionally be considered food, if they had any need to devour at all. 

Cragadile, manticore, hydra, Quarray eels, sea/lake serpents, giant spiders, and Tatzlwurm are obligate carnivores. 

Windigo feed off very potent hatred when held en masse.

Diamond Dogs eat gems, and so do some breeds of dragon, though many dragons also eat meat (unfortunately, this means barbaric dragons can and will eat ponies). 

Ahuizotl, bugbears, normal bears, chimera, cockatrice, Arimaspi, bats (fruit, vampire fruit, regular), hippogriffs, griffons, Cerberus, orthros, phoenix, pigs (winged or otherwise), sirens, sea ponies, demons, star beasts, and twittermites are all omnivores. 

Draconequui, parasprites, and goats will eat anything. Fear them. 

Changelings get no nourishment from anything but love, or lust, if they are corrupted. 

Because of this, ponies and horses would rarely come into contact with any creatures that are not vegetarian or omnivores, and still have reason to be wary of some species. Meat-repulsion and fear of fangs and claws would not be an uncommon or abnormal behavior to see, especially in foals. As they are still prey animals, common, primal pony and horse nightmares would include sharp-toothed, meat-eating monsters. 

Real-life horses have been noted to eat meat, but are still classified as herbivores for a reason. The circumstances where they eat meat are noted to involve abnormal levels of aggression, inappropriate placement of human foods, not enough food of their own, desperation, starvation, snooping around mixed foods (fish in a salad), uncharacteristic aggression, yearning for salt, and other abnormal circumstances. It is also noted that horses who ate meat rarely repeated the behavior (or never did), that they were often ill afterwards because their bodies (teeth and whole-ass digestive system) were not made for any meat consumption, and that one of the most common situations where horses would even touch meat is after they attacked and killed an animal in a fight. (Huge amounts of aggression right there.) The behavior is described as a learned one, not an innate one, and horses are observed to not seek meat out. For thousands of years, meat-eating horses are hailed as an item of myth. (Probably the most well-known example is this one.)

For ponies, hearing that another pony was eating meat wouldn't be anything to just bat an eye at. Not only would their pony pal become physically ill, but if they were going out of their way to do so, then they wouldn't be right in the head. A pony eating meat, just like a real horse eating meat, would have their behavior rooted in the same kind of aggressive, abnormal drive - just one far more warped, in the sense that their actions and the stigma from them would have human parallels in the form of: being a cannibal (meat-eating certainly isn't taboo for humans, nor does it have a sickening impact on you to grab a burger, but eating a person and the illness that results is something else) or Renfield's syndrome (probably the most non-graphic thing I can find explaining it). It doesn't help that most of the species in the world are sapient, either...

(One thing to note would be that part of why Sombra is so feared in some ways isn't because he's just an omnivore/has fangs, but because of how he is shaped more like a pony than anything else. Knowing that Cerberus could maul a pony to death and gobble them up, just like he could a granola bar you dropped on your way to eternal torment, but that same factor applied to something that looks like a pony becomes far creepier - even if it still carries obvious influences of prejudice and ignoring other facts about Sombra and his values. After all, what is more unsettling, a crocodile that swallowed some idiot Florida tourist whole, or Albert Fish - I'm not linking shit with him - being pleased to eat you?) 

I'll probably just leave that one there.

---

End #2
> A World Where Nopony Would Burn [Outline] [Notes] [Untold Stories]
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Characters:


Celestia (a.k.a: Solara): A young adult (early 20s) Alicorn mare who has known the pony tribes since she was of fourteen years in the Alicorn's mortal year equivalency, and has spent decades as a youthful mare and teen filly under Starswirl's custody. She is the inexperienced Goddess of the Sun but has been kept away from raising it since she appeared in the Tribelands with her sister and they earned their marks. She has many feminine and traditionally girly interests, conventionally pretty looks, and a highly extroverted/codependent deadly duo that allows her to form relationships (good or bad) easily, leading her to have many friends and plenty of foes too. Celestia has pyromantic abilities, but she dislikes them. 

She has grown into many of the negative elements of Tribal Society, answers to Solara, and has passive-aggressive bitchiness buried under that smile for the pony who dares try to tell her and her idea of equine welfare to buzz off, or that far more barbaric and evil ideas are ever okay. Celestia also possesses something of a hedonistic streak: parties, pen-pals over literature, dancing, jokes, self-amusement over study, and a simple young mare's want for fun - just turned up a few notches from less than ideal semi-suppressed mental health issues and a dysfunctional desire to define herself by something other than playing mother to her sister and living her own life... by abandoning her sister and being all-too susceptible to bad ways for others to define her. 

(Probably just needs to have a hug and a few decades of therapy... and Platinum to stop making such awful less-than-underhoof-but-not-super-overt-stupid-royal-bitch remarks about why Celestia should have another little spiral of 'episodes' that lead to her better acquainting her truly massive supper with a frozen privy seat again, because she really is starting to fill out her dress again, hmm?)

Such a strong desire to feel normal, loved, and needed can make Celestia push away ponies who are reported to make her come across otherwise, but when she is willing to show kindness and generosity to ponies who she never believes should be treated as harshly as they are under the tribes, like the poor, the sick, and anypony who is just born inoffensively different from anypony else. She has a habit of proclaiming often that 'If I was ruler...' followed by something she would change, an element she likes to infuse into her speeches. 

Celestia has an incredibly hard time crying in front of ponies and tries not to, except in certain circumstances like shock, news of death, destruction, catastrophe, if faced with betrayal, and during break-ups. Her more emotional sister can make Celestia come across as cold in comparison to her younger sibling, while unicorn society sees her as hysterical. This doesn't mean she'll never show any sadness - she will, and it will be obvious when she is heartbroken, shocked, or anything else, she just rarely is more than teary-eyed about it. 

Her greatest goal is to help ponykind, to the point where she's already got a mounting savior complex about it and heroic ideals stuffed in some sections of her brain. The faintest foundations for the dream of Equestria are forming in her mind's eye, even if she can do no more than dream them - and y'know, suppress any memories of her fillyhood, biological family, and the Age of the Alicorns, and pretend she wouldn't have some obvious Alicorn-Era influences on any hypothetical of hers. It's just such a shame she's in a position where she has too little support to found a kingdom, and that it would take some miracle of the Tribe leaders to want to do so. But the only thing that's happening is more war, and colder, longer winters. Brr!

Celestia's identity fluctuations, unstable relationships, and episodes of extreme moods and problems with herself often lead to her trying to throw herself deeper into the work she's already designated for herself in order to not feel worthless and like she isn't contributing. She works to one day create a proper network of magic upon her own body to do more than just dull the edges of her magic, as she does now, and the compulsion to work further on these invisible bindings arises in lower moods and has been rising considerably for some time... 

It's very hard for her to fight for an Equestria to be alone because no matter how many ponies will listen to her with the hem of her dress levitated just above the slush in a market giving one of her speeches, her heart and values demand she be a pacifist in how she interacts with ponies. How can she feel anything but unable to act with force against terrifying things she sees? It's too hard; too bone-chilling, and not a single one of those single chilled bones can act with the force of a soldier, even when she knows she fights for something right. One thing that brings her a sense of completeness in her life is meditating on good and evil, and how her observations of them have evolved since fillyhood. They're the two most important things to pepper her waking thoughts, and in times of doubt she can always return to her idea of the two for clarity and as predictions to what she feels greater goods and evils are... unaware she has a considerably inflexible dichotomy of them, and it's something she's willing to cast her whole world (and all those ex-coltfriends) in. 

Generally considered progressive in mindset, part of which stems from coming from an enlightened civilization (even if she won't acknowledge it), Celestia wants for nothing more than all the disaster and horror of the lives of tribal ponies to be bettered, no matter how awful these ponies might be or all that's in her way. She carries the strong over-optimism and over-kindness of a better life crusader - and happens to be the only pony making an effort to do anything, finding ponies to be worthy of salvation. 

She is irresponsible and blinded by love, more often than not, and her coltfriends - as she thinks of them - are all good-looking to her, but who they are on the inside can leave a lot to wish for. Many think so little of her when she's over the moon for them, that she's left in an open relationship by default. Other times, she finds herself in love with stallions, thinking each to be yearned-for 'handsome prince' type, and finds out that even if they do return her romantic affections, it is not to the degree she feels because of Tribal society ideals impacting how much the stallion feels - and when it becomes neither wants/can have a marriage that would make their relationship politically and economically useful to unicorn society, stallions Celestia loves becomes stallions she maintains courtly, all-parties-aware dalliances/dating-level relationships with in order to try and feel less empty from the circumstance and to avoid being left alone when one leaves happy and fulfilled by relationships where the other party is so often too noncommittal for her taste and sees her in the lonely, undefined realm of 'partner'. Feeling that she gives so much to stallions who rarely understand her relationships and see their partnership as going nowhere, Celestia often ends up wanting the fulfillment and opportunity she sees in the good relationships some of her friends find. And that's when things tend to turn out for the better.

Philomena: A phoenix companion of Celestia who has known Celestia since before the tribes and when she was a filly, instead of the fragile and often destructive mare she grew to be. 'Mena, as she is often called, delivers messages for Celestia outside of Starswirl's valley, because the stallion did not bother to ward against a mere bird. These messages could be love letters to her current coltfriend, papers to help Solara's spy exploits, political texts, recipes for the cosmetics the young mare loves so much, fabric catalogs, and correspondence from friends. All she wants is for Celestia to be okay, knowing that the young mare is put through a lot of distress.

'Mena is capable of speech and a very sapient being, who has a very childlike personality and loves to chatter and listen to Celestia. Often, the mare speaks to the bird in owner-pet speak (I guess, this?) and when doing so, Celestia often refers to herself in the third person, by a title (Mama, Princess, etc.), or sounds like she's talking to herself about her day just to hear somepony...

When she can, loyal Philomena strives to help young Celestia rehearse the many speeches she gives in the capital city of the unicorns to bring the ponies any happiness she can and try and convince them of what a better kingdom would look like, one with no starvation, no unjust wars, and different values leading to prosperity. After all, if a fun-loving, hyperactive fire-bird can feel impacted and drawn to the young mare's speech, then illiterate, half-starved, frostbitten unicorn ponies could!

Luna (a.k.a: Selene): An Alicorn goddess who is on the brink of early adulthood, at least with how she ages. Her relationship with Celestia is fractured and consists mainly of Celestia not having anything to do with Luna, who is torn between hating what her sister has grown into and the raw pain of the rejection. Luna refuses Starswirl's commands and is consistently rebellious and defiant of him, even making multiple escape attempts at the risk of beatings. Her unruliness makes her hard to control and her lack of adopting social norms of the Tribal Era she deems backward or erasure of who she is considered more of a freak than her sister - especially when Luna embraces herself as an Alicorn instead of trying to be a pony. She is very often largely silent to the point of being a borderline select mute but is passionate about nature, magic, and combat. Her lack of noted attraction to stallions leads to her being a rumored lesbian (in reality, she's asexual, but not aromantic, but nopony else knows since she's very closeted and good at hiding her sexual orientation). Luna is the Goddess of the Moon with a cutie mark she loves, and though she hides her full magical talent to be sneaky, and is asocial, something she is spurned for. 

Once a filly playful at heart, lately emotional and always introverted Luna has been cloaked by years of melancholy and gloom evident of depression brought about by how her adolescent life has turned for the worse. She wants to run away and continue the life of adventure she led before and is always yearning for freedom and deeply imaginative. One day, she manages to get out of Starswirl's valley and travel to the neighboring one of the tribes, where she finds Celestia during one of her times at the Unicorn Court, they fight bitterly and both dug deeper into screaming things they would regret, with Celestia not only unwilling to leave but ending things by screaming at Luna that she wished they weren't sisters - something that shattered what was left of Luna's hope that Celestia was the sister she grew up with and truly cared for. Celestia ensured Starswirl came to fetch Luna. 

Starswirl the Bearded: A unicorn stallion with a peculiar tale (suggesting Prancian ancestry) who is in possession of significant magical talent compared to the rest of the Unicorn Tribe during the era. He is high-born of House Glimmer with distinguished noble blood and breeding, but is estranged from his family of his own choice, and has no friends whatsoever. He has a particular talent for hypnosis and conjuration. His habit of buying foals keeps his frontier home in shape, and he frequently takes some of them out on trips to the Unicorn Tribe's territory. 

Aside from using them as servants, he'll teach some of them, and seek ways he might make a profit from having custody of them too, as well as attempting to use them for test subjects on occasion - if he can get one under control. Save Clover, who all but nods, trembles, and obeys, he has a turbulent and abusive relationship with each of the other three, who he will punish, starve, beat, and bring about much mistreatment to. He deprives them of their own names, each being renamed with something of his choice, with the best known being the fake-names he gives his adopted daughters, Celestia and Luna. Overall, he tries to force apart from any bonds that could be formed between the four - or already exist between them - in order to better control them without the use of magic. He makes many overbearing efforts to rein in the behavior of each one and ensure they don't do anything he doesn't like, feels inconvenienced by, or will make him look too bad.

Despite his station and position in the Unicorn Court, he is notably sexist, foul, racist, and brutish in temper. He lords his fame, wealth, and status as wizard, noble, and the sole pony to travel outside the Tribelands above others in drunken boasts, and authors various materials to help contribute to his income, as well as research and unfinished spells he never showed anypony. An exceptionally greedy and predatory stallion, he finds his spells in hypnosis to be useful for swaying the mind of any female that moves to keep him company. 

His early life is not spoken of, but marked by no trauma or lack of love, and he was offered remarkable chances for education that he boats of too. Starswirl has lived to an age unheard of by many ponies, and can falsely be seen as wise instead of amoral. He has not once married a mare, nor have any siblings been spoken of. No kin are still alive to speak of, and those that knew of the more personal details of his family, beyond what would be glanced at in castle records or in modern court gossip, are as lost to time as the information. 

Clover the Clever: A feeble-minded unicorn mare with somewhat above average magical skill from training and a habit of trying to better situation with simple proverbs. Formerly a purchased peasant kept by Starswirl the Bearded since her early foalhood, she was sold because being bought by a wizard was considered an 'honor' and a way to escape poverty. She never saw them again, but some of the few memories she has of them included foreign words that none of the other unicorns could recognize and were dismissed as nonsense and amusement (but were fragments of Prancian telltale of the region where Clover's family migrated from). Oftentimes, she was subjected to magical experiments by Starswirl, especially when it involved areas where his talents could be put to use and left her with premature neurosis, atypically docile, and with a weakened horn (something that would not be visible) over the course of years. Eventually, she was sold to King Tantalum as a servant for his daughter. Compared to the other wards of Starswirl, Clover was treated the best. (And that's really not saying much, seeing as she was basically a guinea pig for his memory magic.) 

Onyx (a.k.a: Kawblance): A young colt servant of Starswirl. He is an orphan from a distant land and displeasing to deal with. Ever since his arrival in Starswirl's frontier valley years ago, Celestia was always tried to avoid him and dismiss him, finding him obnoxious and loathsome. His wretched behavior means he isn't granted much in the way of trips outside of the valley with Starswirl. Celestia only knows him by the nickname Starswirl gave him and has no hint about what his real name could be. She knows he likes to hurt non-sapient animals and has other habits that disturb her, contributing to her sneaking gut feeling that there's something evil about him.

Princess Platinum: The unicorn princess, sole heir to the throne, and a frequent bully of Celestia. The all-around ringleader of the noblemares of the Unicorn Court, whether they wish her to be or not, and a royal, spoiled bitch. Known for being iron-hoofed and prone to fits where she screams violently at servants, as well as being unusually close to her servant and hoof-maiden, Clover the Clever. Generally uptight, unbearable, and worth avoiding at all costs. A princess she may be, but when it comes to friendship, Platinum's a real queen bee, and one with considerable support... including keeping Solara as a favored acquaintance, with the Alicorn trying to get close enough to the princess to maintain a level of influence that is obvious to the public - even if their double-faced, backstabbing, fake 'friendship' isn't so. Platinum generally sees Celestia as an upstart, but not the most effective one in her eyes, and she's willing to keep her close, as the saying goes. (Of course, this is the very reason that Celestia also wants to stay as close as she can to Platinum.) It's a your secret or her secret world, and she's not taking any chance for the latter, even if the former can cost your life, happiness, or anything. 

King Tantalum: The last king of the unicorn tribe. His ancestors granted Starswirl the right to keep Luna and Celestia. His wife was killed in the conflict with Tirek, and he expected to rule without care after Tirek was vanquished. Instead, he faces a curious threat from an ever-growing winter and wars that keep escalating. Can't a guy just sit on a throne of corruption and marry his lone daughter off in peace? Apparently not. Celestia would never have any direct one-on-one interaction with him, and any time he even bothered to address her directly would be in a crowd. He feels there is little reason to mind the Alicorn beasts and prefers to keep his dealings with intelligent creatures, like ponies. He feels Starswirl has little more than easily dismissed flaws (okay bud) and holds him and his words in considerable esteem.

Sigurd Goldenrod: A rural unicorn and heir to an estate. He is a duke who appears in Through the Snow. He describes his manor/estate as being between "eleven days (traveling by hoof) away from the earth pony border" and the mountains where Starswirl's valley residence is. He has a heavy accent and is conscripted into the tribal military, hence him being at the Unicorn Court. There he serves the required amount of time to show his loyalty to the crown. His status as a royal lord is a reason many ponies make fun of him and dismiss him as a hick. 

He's young, optimistic due to being a greenhorn, but generally good. While he is still racist towards non-unicorns, he is not pleased by the constant generational slaughter of the Tribal Wars and doesn't have any other prejudices to any group. He thinks Celestia's ideas of a peaceful kingdom are desirable and a future to look forwards to. He wants to help her get noticed more by ponies who will take her political aspirations seriously. Though, his optimism often gets him in trouble or is proven wrong. 

He has a younger sister and describes his father as telling them bedtime stories about a mysterious crystal city, which is considered to be no more than a fairy tale. He will staunchly defend his family against any accusations, especially that they are traitors to their race/tribe/nation or hold such sympathies. Sigurd is considered conventionally attractive, something that catches Celestia's eye. He's also the only one who will call her 'Celestia' aside from Luna. Though at her request, he will call her Solara too, and nicknames based on the two names: Tia, Lara, etc. This often makes Celestia feel like each name is for a different pony, splitting any sense of wholeness she might have, something she doesn't attempt to stop or counter in any way. 

He values labor, military service, and politics above the feats of mages and scholars. Sigurd loathes Starswirl and his treatment of Celestia but knows that the only things he can do to prevent her mistreatment are to shelter her when he can. They become incredibly adamant about spending time together, not just as a young couple but so Sigurd can protect the passive Celestia from Starswirl's anger. Since Sigurd is usually dismissed as a "border-pony" due to where his estate is and where he's usually stationed, he is ridiculed by other unicorns, who often speak carelessly around him. This supplies him with a lot of information he relays back to Celestia in order to help her with her political activity. He spreads the word of the things she says to those who he knows will listen and help her words reach ponies who might support her.

Sigurd holds many of the core values of his society highly, but still acts in a more honorable and chivalrous manner. This attracts Celestia to him, who thinks of him as knightly, while he sees her as refined and refreshing compared to many of the other mares living in the Unicorn's Court. He doesn't understand the depths of Celestia's mental instability, but would never knowingly blame her for much of its impact on her life and seeks to help her. 

While there is the drama expected from their relationship, the two are truly good for each other, and Sigurd is the closest thing to a stable figure that Celestia has in her life. They both know that they could never marry: Sigurd has to marry a citizen mare and somepony who can benefit his family's future and is seen as legitimate and a pony, while Celestia is ruled by a tyrannical guardian she has no idea how to escape. She is unable to change her life with her own agency, and only by Starswirl's choice would she be able to marry or leave him, and due to her species, she can't be married - and certainly not to a high-born unicorn (something others berate her for often). Sigurd is looked down upon by some for his relationship, but because it's nothing official, it doesn't have an impact on the political future he has.

Sigurd is deeply in love with Celestia, and would enjoy a future with her if he could, but Celestia also has no desire for family or ever settling down and passing 'political responsibility' onto the next generation in hopes that they will solve things. She is open about never wanting to marry, except as a political goal. This sometimes makes Sigurd feel disappointed, as he knows their relationship cannot last, but never when it will end. He doesn't want it to end, and Celestia lives in the moment of their relationship, unwilling to think of it having a future instead of her political one and how it might impact her lifestyle. Both have a reckless, youthful investment in each other.

The chance for Sigurd to be deployed or returned to the Unicorn Court irregularly has made both fairly paranoid about them being taken from one another and sent away. Celestia is always without him and quite clingy, and Sigurd is too mellow to really understand her delusions of fairy tale love (a leftover from her old foalhood over-optimism) and need to attend. Sigurd is puzzled by how Celestia can alternate from an overly empathetic time bomb of a mare to being such a good liar and manipulator of other ponies in the Unicorn Court. He often has to shelter her from the world, particularly public executions and other corruption in a society that drives her to hysterics and shock. Celestia doesn't fully understand that ponies are not inherently good, and the levels of violence and terror that happen in the Tribal Era often comes as a shock to her, making it one of the few things that can reveal a very emotional, reactionary side of the deeply conflicted mare.

Sigurd does his best to support in communicate with Celestia in other ways, from giving Philomena his messages to her to listening to her tell him about the Magicspire and the misfit collection of others that live there. There are times when he has to listen to Celestia rant about how she feels about Luna during this time, and in his attempts to support her, he ends up agreeing with whatever she tells him and 'confirming' everything Celestia says in her reliance on others for her self-image...  

Sigurd is Celestia's only real defender, and a beacon of good in the cruel land of the tribes and the one true lasting love that was ever really mutual and earnest in all her time living in the north, and overall helped Celestia become a better pony. He and Celestia have an emotional commitment to one another and strong friendship aside from their romantic relationship. When they are away from one another, they will sometimes enter brief stages where their relationship becomes a vaguely agreed upon but extremely poorly-defined open relationship, and Sigurd often has to swoop in and 'save' Celestia from the other, older stallions she gets herself involved with. 

He knows that she was involved in Tirek's defeat, but has no idea how to see her as a hero of any kind, capable of aggression and victory. This makes some of Sigurd's only concepts of Celestia fractured, though much more subtly than most ponies' view of her. 

While he regrets parting with Celestia when they do split up, he does go on to lead a happy life and marry a mare willing to raise his foal. Even though his foal with Celestia was purely accidental, he did love his daughter no differently and always treated her kindly and was welcoming to Celestia when she needed a place to stay. He never thought badly of Celestia after they split up, which he had no say in, as it was purely for the benefit of his daughter and at Celestia's say for their futures. Especially her chance to be in a position of political power one day. He and Celestia never had any contact again after they split, and he lived to migrate south again. Though he loved his wife, he still cared for Celestia deeply and wondered what might have been between them if they had stayed together.

In the end, Sigurd managed to be the closest to the chivalry of tales of knights and the Old World that Celestia knew. He provided one of the few good relationships she had and looked back kindly upon. His mellow and heroic disposition and made Celestia feel drawn to him, and the pair really complimented each other in the best ways they could. 

Freyja Blueblood: A unicorn filly with half-Alicorn blood (though, there is no obvious way this manifests) and a splash of silver freckles across her muzzle. Her eyes are green and her mane and tail are rosy pinks, and her coat is soft white. Conceived by accident, she is given up by young Celestia so that she can further her political career and is raised by her father, who with the help of his understanding wife, conceals that she is not a legitimate heir in a time when to be otherwise was a risk. She becomes the longest-lived mortal pony to not know any magical enhancements (like being a demigod). She went on to marry and have many foals who carried on the Blueblood name into the time of Luna's return to Equestria. 

Previous Stallions Involved with Celestia: She's a mare with a few different types, and the various original characters she would be involved with would fall into a few different but distinct types. Stallions that Celestia would find herself attracted to would be significantly older than her (so, she'd be barely legal and getting involved with stallions in their 30s-50s) and would be politically minded, seeking to move up in the court and gain the favor of the royal family and marry strategically, even if though they would already occupy a place of nobility at the very least. These celebrity types would be very much a kind of scheming noble sort (they probably have the goatees for it too) that are pleased to lead poor, young Celestia on for a bit of amusement and nod, pretend to listen and offer sexist underhanded remarks when she tells them all her political aspirations. 

The second type would be the more up-and-coming noble stallions. These would be the kind of ponies around her apparent age, the kind of rich colts with time and power, but only positions of minor importance compared to fathers and other, older unicorns at court. They're not quite worried about their own estates or heirs, and are ready for fun times and fast times and hoping whatever plague is in this season just sticks to the peasants, and are just as spoiled and as much of dickwads as you would expect. Probably fun at parties. 120% huge douches and fairly toxic under all that golden boy charm with issues and aimlessness of their own. But they like sun horse booty so who knows. To them, Celestia's just a particularly attractive freak show-like spectacle to add to a list of scores. Would often only barely act like they have the time for her, and wouldn't care if she's caught in a love dodecahedron kind of arrangement with multiple stallions like this, thinking they aren't tired of her and really do want her around. 

In general, Celestia is drawn to stallions with an extroverted magnetism, popular at court, has a prominent sense of humor, and comes across as a go-getter or somepony very involved in their occupation or coming across as stable (in life, in general, whether they actually are or not). She doesn't like a pony who would pass judgment over her, which unfortunately means that she's often involved with ponies who don't care about her at all because they don't care to think about her as more than a pretty face, and she's quite vulnerable to flattery and nice guy acts. She wants a stallion who is willing to support her and get involved in social focuses, but at the same time won't interfere at all with her desire to move up social ranks and make the climbs to rulership. Because of this unwillingness to really let anypony into her life or really address equality in her relationships, she's entering dalliance after dalliance with stallions who aren't going to stay with her because they have no shared goals and she maintains an iron grip over hers; she wants a pony to play a part in helping her shape a life she is ultimately devoting to others, not a pony who shares any long term desires with her. 

Unicorn Politicians:  Politicians who were unicorns included the Unicorn Court and local and noble figures. The nobility and other ranked officials supported the royal backbone in a caste-like feudal system. Even though the whim of the Unicorn Crown dictated everything, the royal family was still bogged down with other loyalties, favors, and complicated relationships with the others in the Court, unlike Alicorn rulers of the Old World or present-day Equestria. The unicorn line was lucky to rule without a lot of usurping and conflict, but still owed hoof-shakes, favors, and the like and was codependent on the court it managed.

Unicorn politicians could be stallions or mares and managed their relationships through money, property, marriage, magic, and festivals. All were educated in some way, though not normally with a magical education. Houses happened when a few interconnected families would claim one name (Meadowbrook, Lulamoon, Glimmer) that repeated often or in a pattern. It was established by one member, who almost always bore the original House name as their mononym. Marriage was used to form alliances and ensure new branches, and blood was brought in.  

Most houses would be able to trace themselves farther back than the monarchy's family tree, but not to the start of the tribes. Not all of them were descended from a constant line of nobles, and new houses from nowhere could technically be founded, but it's nearly impossible and borderline illegal unless you come from certain kinds of backgrounds. Houses had their own armies and portions in the Unicorn Tribe's greater army, as well as similar kinds of magical talents to one another. 

Leadership in Houses was not based on talent, magic, or gained as an elected position, but on wealth, force, prestige, royal favor, and assassinations were not uncommon within Houses. They never took kindly to anything that might disrupt their rigid systems and attempts to gain favors or take away their serfs and properties, or that they deem annoying and interfering with war efforts. (Read: Celestia)

Though Tribal Era naming traditions are somewhat different than modern Equestria's, there are still ponies who are given the second half of their names because their parents wish for them to have a more unique name or found a House of their own.

Unicorn Peasants: Peasants in the unicorn era were rural ponies without much in the way of skill or magic. They had no real shops, establishments, or anything that generally earned a profit in towns and cities, like the capital. While peasants would often rent land or own property, they were still under the chain of authority that extended from local levels up to the Unicorn Royal Family. They often had one name only, and especially simple cutie marks. Celestia was particularly interested in this demographic of ponies and found them to be very pitiful. They have much, much, much larger amounts of foals than reasonably possible, and purely as a means to see which ones survive. 

Attempts at farming (generally only for if a pony near the earth pony border), selling repurposed trash, mining, hawking/vending, and begging would be common jobs for the poorest peasants and serfs. Peasants would run many local shops and occupy most unskilled trades, and all the skill-less labor below that. Most would have a hard time living past their twenties, and would have no world beyond trying to get their surplus foals conscripted, sent to work mines, apprenticed (if lucky), married better, goods sold and paying officials and landlords. Any and all claim to the property would be determined by their heritage and other corrupt laws, making most peasants unable to own land and left to rent property from higher-up unicorns who could charge them whatever they pleased.

The territories occupied by peasants would have very little defenses due to guards and soldiers mostly aiding in the collection of tithes, taxes, other payments, and defending areas like shops and mines. This would make the areas where Celestia travels extremely unsafe outside of the most desolate stretches of road and merchant towns and the like. Peasant villages would be overrun with internal corruption as well as external, with the only order and authority brought by royalty and any soldiers deployed, making the bulk of the unicorn population ruled by magic and might and royalty and their own tyranny with no exceptions. The first hints of the Windigo Winter would mean increased starvation, too. Abandoning the (few) elderly, sick, young, orphaned, and others that could not be of immediate value would not be uncommon either. Villages without soldiers would have to attempt to keep themselves supplied off nearly nothing from the outside world, be visited only to keep them in line or when things are required of them, and be left for dead when sickness inevitably swept through their unsanitary homes. 

Mage Bridget Meadowbrook: A high-born, high-ranking, and fairly talented unicorn mare, who is scorned as 'Biddy Brookie' by Starswirl. She is usually just referred to as Mage Meadowbrook, as would be custom, and is one of many Meadowbrooks to have secured the title of a Mage at Court. Her skill was in enchanting items, and she was known to have created some of the first most rudimentary methods of modern basic item enchantment. She had eight famed enchanted items, and was generally well-respected, though her less than subtle dislike of Starswirl and rivalry with him often led to her being spoken over. Meadowbrook would be well-aware of Starswirl's odd foster family and often belittle him for being so disorganized in how he kept his life and wards. 

Purple Saxifrage of House Meadowbrook: The high-born unicorn mare who eventually marries Sigurd Blueblood and becomes the stepmother of Freyja Blueblood, and a general friend to Sigurd before their marriage. Her contact with Celestia would have been limited to meeting one another a few times around Court. She is a loving, easy-going, mare who has a passion for crafting the medieval herbal remedies expected of many mares in her era but employ the magi-herbalist talents that ran in her family, cementing their place in the Unicorn Court as skilled ponies. The Meadowbrooks were some of the only unicorn ponies with sufficient skill in magic at the time (though considering the general lack of magical skill in the Tribal Era, the Meadowbrooks wouldn't be as spectacular as they are in the modern-day, just decently talented, instead of being fair for their time, much like Clover and Starswirl were, etc.). Purple's specialty was more heavily related to culinary uses for magic and herbal recipes, as her name suggests.  Her rich purple mane and white coat made, as well as how quickly she married Goldenrod, made it all too easy to pass her off as the birth mother of Celestia's foal. Because Purple never had any foals that were her own, she likely chose not to have any or was infertile. Her stepdaughter was her pride and joy, who she was careful to rear into a lady mare with a good heart. 





Plot Outline:





This story never got to enter the stage of stricter outline and areas of development many of my other longer stories like it do, and instead, events were decided largely based on where the setting was at the time. These settings would be: Starswirl's valley (at intervals, mostly mentioned), the unicorn capital city (which I never came up with a name for), multiple (yes, unnamed) villages of peasants/serf unicorns, the Goldenrod estate, the Unicorn Tribe's countryside, the exterior of the unicorn capital, and the Unicorn Court/castle.

The exposition of the story would start with the brief time spent in Starswirl's valley: Starswirl is ready for a trip to the Unicorn Court to visit Clover in her new position there serving under Princess Platinum. [Which, yes, does correspond with Chapter 12 of Tomb of Magic.] Celestia has not been feeling well lately, more so than usual, and Starswirl has her ready her things for the trip; she brings her usual items including a diary and her companion Philomena with her. 

After some time (and flashbacks regarding her relationship with Sigurd) to journey to the capital city, Sigurd and Celestia are overjoyed to be reunited again. However, Celestia not feeling the best, lingering turmoil from the 'spire between the apprentices, and the constantly increasing conflict between the pony tribes both within and outside of their borders weighs upon the two. 

More chapters are spent on Celestia and Sigurd, both on their romance and the politics and life of the Unicorn Court. Starswirl alternates between neglecting Celestia, which she is thankful for, to controlling her utterly when he bothers to pay attention to her. Eventually, Starswirl finishes his reason for visiting the Court, but by then Celestia and Sigurd have deduced that Celestia is indeed in the early stages of pregnancy from their last visits together. Celestia is absolutely panicked when the two figure out what has happened and what this could mean for them. Celestia is well aware that Starswirl is a looming threat to any unborn foal she would be carrying, and that she cannot be entirely within his grip for some time longer - up to a year away from the stallion who has managed to establish control over Celestia for so many years. 

Due to escalating conflict among the tribes, Starswirl has had to visit the Unicorn Court much more frequently, and often for reasons he cannot get out of or excuse. Even when these visits directly benefit him, Starswirl is still furious regarding how much travel he has been doing. When Celestia volunteers to stay and act as a personal spy and communicator for Starswirl in order to let him go back to the Magicspire and work on his magic, Starswirl agrees. Celestia knows this will prevent Starswirl from further mistreating her for some time, have no authority over her actions, and be oblivious to her condition as it progresses. 

With Starswirl taking his leave earlier than planned, Celestia situates herself into her many-faceted role: as a servant for Starswirl while continuing her own political efforts, all while maintaining her relationship with Sigurd and trying to hide everything from increased mood swings, appetite, to weight gain. Being pregnant also brings uncomfortable questions to the surface about what might happen with the foal when its born, Celestia's fears of motherhood, and coming close acknowledging herself as an Alicorn, and thus a separate species. Her offspring's status as a hybrid between a pony and an Alicorn would be a reason for world-shattering panic alone just between Sigurd and Celestia. After all, no such offspring would have existed since the Collapse of the Old World and Celestia would not have known of any from old bedtime stories, so the qualities of such a creature (immortal or mortal, powerful magic or purely pony magic, etc.) would be entirely unknown and a cause for worry.

Celestia is thorough about how much she doesn't want to be a mother, and tells Sigurd repeatedly, even when the initial scare is over and Starswirl has departed. While they get to spend more time together, and the romantic aspect of their relationship becomes more public, this doesn't last for long (just a few chapters more) before Sigurd is ordered back to the earth pony-unicorn border, where the war is only waging more. This means he can no longer protect Celestia and help hide her secret or provide her with the relief from loneliness and mental support she clearly needs. 

This news devastates Celestia, and Sigurd attempts to show as much optimism as he can risk in his attempts to console Celestia. Sigurd's departure is delayed as long as possible in a reckless couple days where Celestia and Sigurd attempt to desperately stave the passage of time away with anything they can, however empty or silly the fun may be. When the time comes for Sigurd to leave, Celestia is barely held back from having an emotional breakdown when she and Sigurd have their private farewell to one another. Then, Sigurd has a public soldier's farewell with the other unicorn troops, which Celestia attends, frozen and statue-like, but yearning to be there for the stallion she loves. 

When night falls on the city, Celestia must face it by herself, feeling completely alone and lonelier than ever.  





The second act/part of the story was going to revolve around flashbacks. These would include more of Celestia's relationship with Starswirl, her life at the Magicspire, a couple of scenes of her with the other apprentices, and of course: her relationships. How she met Sigurd, previous dalliances, dates with Sigurd, and Celestia and Sigurd's activist efforts would be the focus before the story's third part. 

The story's title would be central in this act, particularly with showing the aforementioned (and currently somewhat mostly activist efforts) of Sigurd and Celestia. During Tear the Sky Asunder when Celestia was pivotal in Tirek's defeat, Celestia witnessed ponies burning alive and on one occasion with only Sigurd to hold a hysterical Celestia back from a total, public mental breakdown, he and Celestia see a unicorn pony burned alive publicly as punishment/execution for a crime against the unicorns, though it's not much of a crime at all so much as a case of the Unicorn Crown not liking the pony and their prejudice in full swing. Sigurd is used to the sight, but does not support it and expresses some disgust but is more concerned with his sobbing, screaming girlfriend. 

The world Celestia envisions has yet to be Equestria, but she knows it's a world where nopony would burn. 





The third act deals with Celestia as she prepares to make her journey. While at the Unicorn Court, she must deal with the complex social interactions that come with it. That means she is not dealing with wee little Onyx (who is around 12/13 currently) and vacant, hollow Clover. She is dealing with princesses and politicians that are always out for one another, where friendship is cutting off somepony's hoof for an advantage instead of their head. The latter, of course, would be the actions of an enemy. 

Luna shows up, and though Celestia doesn't know it, she's desperate and hurt. Their relationship has been absolutely abominable and never more toxic than their years with Starswirl, but Luna still clings on to the hope that she can rescue Celestia from the society of the ponies and that they can flee together. Her actions in fleeing the Magicspire and still choosing to go through perilous Tribal territory and into the Unicorn Court to find Celestia the one time she manages to be free of Starswirl's wards is the ultimate olive branch. 

However, Luna's fragile hope for safety, sisterhood, and an escape from misery into a future where they can make a difference is shattered. Celestia is abhorred by Luna appearing, unplanned, escaped, and ready to offer impassioned remarks about every reason they should flee. Celestia is absolutely willing to hear none of it, and the two's prickly, opposing personalities erupt. They have the most toxic of screaming matches that they have had in a long time. 

All their accusations bubble up and the two hurl insult after insult against one another, begging and screaming over and over for the other to listen and cave in to the other's desire for the future. Celestia wants all her political plans to stay intact, remaining immaculate for when she could eventually sate how much she has been vying for power and be a ruler of the ponies. She does not reveal the full extent of her desires for political gain at their future but does argue beyond the angle of their reputations being at stake. 

Meanwhile, Luna points to all that is wrong with mortals, their unsaveable nature, and how they have been abused, caged, and their sisterhood has torn apart. Ever since they met the mortals, their lives have been nothing but torment and she pleas and cry angrily for Celestia to be her sister again, for them both to be loyal and true, and somewhere far, far away from the fallen world, they have found.

Angered beyond belief at Luna's words, rebelliousness, and inability to be controlled, Celestia decides to indulge herself in her anger just once, thinking it will be okay to express herself. Her tired body has its secret hidden with a large, spacious dress of the time and her mind is swimming with hormones, as well as sick of Luna talking about the sisterhood Celestia thought was severed with the burdens of her old name.

When Celestia screams at Luna that she wishes they weren't sisters, only then does Luna stop crying and go back to her now-normal muteness. Both are absolutely stunned by the brutality of one another and Celestia's words, but there are no apologies said. Celestia summons Unicorn Court servants to her chambers, where a resigned Luna is taken out, having finally given up almost totally now, and is eventually collected and brought back to the Magicspire. Her journey ended up being in vain, and the fact that she would have had the blessed freedom her young heart so long wanted and safety from abuse if only she had been willing to abandon the only family she had left is something that weighs upon Luna. 

Without Luna to worry about any longer, Celestia is convinced that she has finally liberated herself. She sets to work on writing to Sigurd, tracking his movements, and keeping an ear to gossip on foal-rearing and military movements. Within a few days, she has secretly packed and ready to go. Celestia is fairly open about leaving, willingly taking on minor errands expected of those below Court officials like herself. This way, she'll have plausible deniability, have fashioned 'friendships' (and of those air quotes she is well-aware), and won favors that Starswirl could exploit from other ponies later. 

With little more than saddle-bags of the things she is meant to distribute along the way, Philomena to help her relay messages, and the fine clothes upon her, Celestia thinks she is ready to head out. She sets off into Unicorn Lands, heading for near the earth pony border, where she knows that the Goldenrod estate awaits her.

Along the way, Celestia is forced to confront reality and does so poorly. She hadn't accounted for the utter poverty in which unicorn peasants lived, or seeing the transportation of earth pony slaves into the land she travels. She has no money to her name and is always refused shelter. Many peasants think her a monster and are unwilling to share even the scraps straight from the garbage with the ailing, worn, pregnant mare. Famine is rampant and the weather is always poor. The technology for even Roman-level roads is something that is too far advanced even for these ponies of the dark ages, and Celestia tries to stay with the few ignorant peasants who will accept her.

Those unicorn peasants are meek and ignorant, but too passive to be of harm. They see Celestia and know she is the mare who speaks of rights for workers and other things beyond their every imagination in the capital city. Some of her words have reached significant portions of the population, and though they don't know what it means, they want Celestia to mean peace. She is friendly and humble in their eyes, and always willing to look at them as dear ones instead of the lower castes that they cannot escape. However, Celestia is weepy and pities those who take her around their fires and into their measly huts, trying to refuse the food these starving ponies give her, completely willing to starve the mortal child in her if it means that the dying peasants around her can have so much as one more bread crust. 

Despite her errands, the trip only exists in a state of half-favor, and Celestia is forced to only consort those who would not know how to betray her: the poorest of the poor. 

Many elders are able to see that Celestia is pregnant, and refuse her selflessness, lying to her about there being more food or whatever else is needed, like outright force-feeding her. Though a mortal-immortal spawn is beyond all their comprehension, it is clear the crying, ever-shocked young mare before them who is willing to feed others before her, and her bird before herself, is only going to induce a miscarriage or bring other forms of harm upon her if she doesn't think with the selfishness of survival. 

None of the ponies Celestia spends time with and hears the tales she tells bothers to tell her their unspoken truth: that though they feed her and help her, kindness is immaterial. She cannot help them; her fatigued body cannot feed them. They will still be toling when the sun rises, knowing some of their own were dragged to their death to raise it, and that no matter the optimism she offered, all Celestia did was give them tales to tell and drain their meager resources so fantastically. They know that many among them will not live to see her return trip, and will be fertilizer in the fields. 

During her time 'on the road' Celestia does not disclose to Sigurd that she is seeking him. When she shows up to the Goldenrod estate, it is to his complete surprise. Celestia is haggard from her constant journey, where despite her condition, she was often forced to forgo sleep or summon drinkable water where there was none. She managed to avoid all the war zones along the way and close by, though her dress is dirtied and tattered. 
However, there is little time for her and Sigurd to have any dispute. She is so close to being ready for birth, and within a few nights of rest and nourishment, Celestia is foaling. Unwilling to risk the secrecy of their out of wedlock foal, Sigurd is too afraid to summon any midwives to help with the delivery except those who are willing to swear secrecy and have the magic to induce birth. 

The premature birth results in a filly that is frail, but one that will still survive. She is immediately given to a wet nurse, and Celestia is forced to take time to recover but refuses to stay for more than a few days. She insists on going out to help again, wanting to combat the worsening winter and deplorable conditions of the Unicorn Tribe's paupers. 

She leaves without even naming her daughter and instead gives Sigurd instructions. She tells him to conceal the filly's true parentage, to marry and disguise that she wasn't a lawful heir, and that they could absolutely not maintain a relationship anymore, whether they loved one another or not. In her last moments with him, Sigurd outright admits his undying love for her, while Celestia struggles to. Only the love-aurora stripes of her mane, which are almost entirely shimmering with her age, offer a sparkle in response to the stallion she can't even look at. 

Celestia leaves with Philomena, and braves what she can of the countryside alone, battling frequent bad dreams, horrific fractured foredreams, and spirals of dissociation that leave her having to bury mental scars by the time she has returned. Once in the Unicorn Capital City again, Celestia is relieved to find she has managed to come back before Starswirl and his wrath. But she's also a haunted mare, and even the maids notice something is just a touch more frozen about her, and noticeably off.

Even though Celestia has come back to all that she has tried to escape, she is that much more determined to see herself in a crown before the brutal, never-ending winter claims them all.
> Equestrian Demonology Technicalities [One Shot] (EqG)
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------



Dear Princess Twilight,

Graduation is almost here, at least on this side of the mirror. Even though the human world schedules its school year almost like Equestria, it just isn’t the same. Growing up in Tall Tale and Canterlot didn’t stop the school years from being built around the harvest-times of the earth ponies. Here, every school calendar is practically the same, from Canterville to Crystal Prep, and Everton too. That gets boring ever so often. How is everything in Equestria? Have there been any more monsters in Ponyville or ancient evils awakening? 

Speaking of ancient evils, there was a question I had for you. I don’t have anything to worry about, grade-wise. I’m used to breezing through all the classes here after being taught by somepony as difficult as Princess Celestia. Okay, except history. The history of this world is just too different from Equestria and it can be hard to keep everything that happens in them straight.

Anyway, I wanted to write to you about doing a side project. Just something to actually keep me busy while I help the rest of the girls with their projects. I was thinking about the Elements of Harmony, and just how fascinating they are. You’re so lucky to be able to experience and use them. Has anypony ever tried to study them before? When I was a filly, they were just an old mare’s tale and not even a common one. Blegh, this makes me sound way too old, but it has to be said: in my years, I only heard of them once or twice, and they were just a storybook whisper. Their six virtues weren’t in any books that were in the Archives when I was Princess Celestia’s Faithful Student.

They’re one of the most powerful artifacts in the world, and stand for everything that embodies light magic. Yet, they still had the power to transform me into an ugly she-demon. I don’t fully understand why they did that. How are the Elements of Harmony that stand for all that the gods want to protect able to do something so unexplainably dark? Is there anything in your library about that?

The idea hasn’t left my head for a while, and I wanted to know if you had anything to tell me about it. 

Your Friend, 

Sunset Shimmer




…




Dear Sunset,

I never thought about researching the Elements of Harmony before! Or, well, I have. It’s just that they don’t lend themselves to conventional research very well. Neither myself, Princess Celestia, or the rest of the girls know all of the Elements’ power and secrets. The Tree of Harmony’s spirit has never spoken to me, and it only appeared to me at the Battle of the Bands with you. I haven’t seen it since, nor have I seen the Rainbow of Light outside of the Cutie Map. Reticence isn’t normally a word I would describe a tree with, but the World Tree is the most enigmatic possible! 

Forcing it to do anything won’t get me anywhere. I’m not sure Princess Celestia ever got very far with the tree either. She is very reluctant to ever address the matter, and I would never push it with her. Once, I had the chance to get my hooves on some papers that might have detailed extraordinary never-before-seen research into light magic, but that fell through…

I would love to help you with your project, Sunset! I’ve never thought about how the Element of Magic would be able to transform you the way it did. Other than The Elements of Harmony: I Reference Guide they had never come up anywhere else before. That is, aside from all the old histories you and I grew up with, where Princess Celestia was said to have defeated many enemies of Equestria all alone. In those stories, the Elements were at least mentioned. 

But other than that? Well, I’m tapping my quill and only coming up with blanks. The Elements of Harmony were just… unknown before my friends and I awoke them again. Not a single book in Golden Oaks Library had any other books about them, and upon checking what I can of publishers’ records at the time, A Reference Guide had a limited amount of copies printed. Not only was it a limited edition when it was published centuries ago, but the book was also first distributed in a time when making them by hoof and horn was still common. My own copy reflects this. If you look closely, the way the Equestrian glyphs are written is characteristic of the kind used by unicorn scribes in the early Solar Millennium, before the one we use today become standardized.

Some of Golden Oak’s records survived Tirek’s attack and have been preserved at Ponyville’s Town Hall. If I go ask the Mayor-Mare, I’m sure she’ll be fine with letting me borrow them. Books were usually delivered to the library in batches based on similar topics. If I can find when The Elements of Harmony: A Reference Guide was delivered to Golden Oaks, I might be able to find some similar titles and order them again. If not, then I can always write to the nearest village. The Cutie Map says that would be Ghastly-Upon-Copse. I’m not sure if they would be big enough to have a library, but if they do, their book-cart deliveries would mimic Ponyville’s due to both being located along a similar Everfreeshire route.

If that doesn’t turn out to be the case, then Princess Celestia would know the answer!

Your Friend and Teacher,

Twilight Sparkle
P.S. Spike says hi! He wants to know how Other Twilight and Other Spike are doing. Could you please write to him about them? I need to work on organizing the entries in the journal some more.

P.P.S I would love to attend the graduation of you and the girls! Do you think we could arrange the date? If princess duties and portal shenanigans keep me from coming, we can always plan an after-party. I’m sure two Twilights planning will be better than one.




…




Dear Princess Twilight,

Of course, I’ll write to Spike! Just check below this entry and I’ll have one ready for him. I had no idea the library system in Equestria was so much more perilous than the one here. Then again, the last time I used a non-Canterlot library in Equestria was when I was eight years old. I wasn’t thinking about how the books got there. Please lemme know how your search goes! Unfortunately, I can’t do much to lend a hand (or hoof) on my end.

Your Friend, 

Sunset Shimmer

P.S. I would love for you to attend my graduation! We’ll have to organize it another time, but I’m sure the girls will be thrilled.




…




Dear Sunset,

You won’t believe what I just found out. Ghastly-Upon-Copse has no record of ever getting a copy of A Reference Guide. Normally, this wouldn’t be a problem. Except I’m finding records of The Elements of Harmony: A Reference Guide being accounted for by the previous librarian of Golden Oaks, a mare by the name of Lily Lightly. The title appears in stock while I’m checking the partial records in Town Hall. What I can’t find is a shipping date for when the book arrived. This is extremely frustrating because at first, I thought it was likely lost. Books don’t suddenly appear in-stock without the librarian noting, and the title is not one that would have been just abandoned by a patron one day.

Instead, I wrote to the hamlet of Ghastly-Upon-Copse to see if they had a library. Unfortunately, I was right about them being too small for one. The town’s record-keeper was kind enough to send me the records of all the titles distributed by the book carts that traveled under the orders of the Equestrian Library Association. That’s when I hit my second dilemma. Unless it was brought in by an independent wagon (which is unlikely due to the nature of the title) there was no copy of The Elements of Harmony: A Reference Guide ever brought into town during the 990s - which was when the copy was accounted for by Lily Lightly.

I’m so sorry about this, Sunset! I’ll be writing to Princess Celestia immediately. Perhaps she knows something about Lily Lightly, demonology, and any titles about the Elements of Harmony.

Your Friend and Teacher,

Twilight Sparkle




…




Dear Princess Twilight,

Wow, it sounds like you have a real mystery on your hands hooves! Honestly, if you can’t find anything on the Elements of Harmony, I sure wouldn’t mind helping you solve a freaky library mystery. Even if my participation would be, well, remote, I think it would be the perfect distraction. Human high school has just never been intellectually stimulating like stuff was back in Equestria. Getting to the bottom of a real mystery (not that Rarity losing her nail polish is trivial) would have me at the edge of my seat.

Please write again soon. If you need me to, I’ll look into what I can and see if Lily Lightly had a human counterpart. I’ve found that the human side of the mirror complements our Equestrian more than I originally would have thought. Lily’s counterpart might hold a clue.

Your Friend,

Sunset Shimmer




...




Dear Sunset,

Princess Celestia has given me more impossible mysteries. Or, perhaps they’re not mysteries. A mystery is something that is solvable. This is an error of organization and something that was crudely laid to rest long before I had the opportunity to dig into it. Sweet Celestia, according to the Princess, Lily Lightly quit abruptly. The only documentation I was able to find about her is a reference to a deceased cousin and a death certificate for an absent pony (in this case, Lily) that was issued before I came to Ponyville. I had no idea there was so much trouble with the last librarian! Once I settled in, Princess Celestia never gave me any information about Lily other than her name. Before I came to Ponyville, I was told that managing the library was a community effort since a problem with the last librarian. 

I guess Lily Lightly left quite a mess for me. Records from the Tower of the Faithful in Canterlot took a lot of sifting through. Thankfully, Moondancer was there to help. We found that there were only twenty-five copies of The Elements of Harmony: A Reference Guide accounted for in the last TWO HUNDRED YEARS! This includes my copy! The book is practically ENDANGERED! 

There isn’t any record of any of these copies being shipped to Everfreeshire either. Most of them haven’t left the archival wings of large university libraries on the coasts. It really does seem like Ponyville’s copy of this book was deposited there purely by a happy (if frustrating) accident. When I asked Princess Celestia about the book’s presence, she said that this was the most likely reason behind its appearance too. 

Even with Princess Celestia’s help, it turns out that works on the Elements of Harmony are next to non-existent. It’s just like one of my books back when I was living in the Tower of the Faithful said. For ‘Elements of Harmony’ you were just redirected to ‘Mare in the Moon’ because that was the story we all knew. The Elements of Harmony were just a footnote in it. They seem to be a footnote in the Canterlot Archives too. Princess Celestia admitted to me that she and Princess Luna never studied them. The closest there were to texts on the Elements themselves were a few scrolls dealing with when light magic was both more prevalent… and a lot more necessary. 

I don’t mean to diminish the ability of formidable ponies with the ability to use light magic, like you, or a goddess like Princess Celestia. But good gods, from what there is written about the start of the Solar Millenium, the world was a much more dangerous place. 

The scrolls don’t tell me anything specifically about transformations like yours, but there is a detail that I think will intrigue you. There are some passages about purity being required for using light magic, and it is distinctly not referring to magical energy. So few ponies can use light magic, and I know you wrote to me last month about how it can still be difficult… meanwhile, I’ve always found it to come so easily. What I see is that ponies who had this purity would cast light magic at monsters and other impurities in the world. As a result, anything or creature with magic cast upon it would grow deformed and pained if they lacked those qualities. Eventually, the light magic would both a) force the impure from any place sanctified because of its power and b) create a passive, repelling field. 

Both sound like wholly fascinating things and line up with some of the abilities of the Elements of Harmony. Yes, this would have a fraction of the power and be on a much smaller scale. The source of these powers is also unclear in my reading - there are just references to a single source, all without explanation. I still think that is promising enough that it is worth mentioning.

Your Friend and Teacher,

Twilight Sparkle




…




Dear Princess Twilight,

I think we’re getting somewhere. I guess I can’t ask you to send precious, one-of-a-kind royal scrolls through the mirror. Thank you so much for putting all the effort you have into helping me, Twi. Even if Equestria is still so far away, learning about the world I left behind still helps me learn about myself in a really, really weird way.

I think that I suspected as much with the light magic. Dark magic is not very common in Equestria’s history, so I don’t think the purity being talked about is a purity of magic. There has to be something else that light magic can mess with, something that isn’t literally dark. I never had dark magic, and an Element of Harmony couldn’t have given it to me. 

The only question that this hasn’t come close to answering is about the transformation itself. Why did it happen? What was I really? Would I have been on the same on the other side of the mirror portal? I’m not sure why an artifact of goodness and power would give me anything at all. We may not know all the mysteries of light magic, but if I could least fully understand what I was beyond how everyone felt about me, I think I can bring my project full circle.

Your Friend,

Sunset Shimmer




…




Dear Sunset, 

I had to ask Princess Celestia more again. When I kept confusing her with the term ‘she-demon’ I knew something was up. I had to explain to her that I was talking about your Fall Formal transformation and the result. She said that what you became isn’t technically called a demon. They’re a separate creature, one that doesn’t fit the average pony’s generic use of it being any old monster too. I’m not sure where the Princess learned this from, but she did suggest that she had a better primary source, not the echoes of what demons are in old mare’s tales like you and I had.

You were only metaphorically a demon. Your transformation was bestowed by magic, and that fits the base idea ponies (and some other creatures) know about demons. So, they probably would have called you a demon on this side of the mirror too. What Princess Celestia was clear about was that when somepony is disconnected from the Elements of Harmony, the Elements will disable them and block them out. The only ways for a Bearer to become disconnected, according to Princess Celestia, are… fairly obvious. Death and disarray sever the connection.
I think that you triggered a similar response in the Spark of Magic. Princess Celestia thinks so too. What you did at the Fall Formal was only a fraction of what a real Bearer of the Spark would be able to channel - and what the united Elements of Harmony could do. I don’t know why the Elements of Harmony would have that built-in to them, but since they can’t be tested and so little sources chronicle them, I’m not sure there is anything more I can unearth about them.

All I can do is offer you the conclusion Princess Celestia and I came up with: you weren’t a demon. Instead, something within you managed to trigger something in the Spark of Magic that flooded you with overwhelming, corrupting magics at a fraction of what world-class Artifacts of Artifacts could do. Despite being presented with a huge taste of magic, you wrote to me before that you were still blocked off from the Element itself, and the kind of powers I can channel from it. 

Sunset, it sounds like what you did was activate a very bizarre security system! 

Your Friend and Teacher,

Twilight Sparkle




…




Dear Princess Twilight,

I never thought to view the Elements of Harmony as so complex. When I held your crown, I knew that it held power beyond my wildest dreams, but not that the Element itself was anything more than an artifact. Sometimes I wonder if I have been in this world too long, that I was able to hold that crown in my magic and think of it as something merely mortal. It’s something I wouldn’t know how to explain to the other girls. Magic is still something that is fun and different to them. None of them know what it is like to have something woven into your world just not exist one day, or that magic can be scarier than Midnight Sparkle.

When you wrote that the Elements of Harmony might have a ‘security system’ it almost made them sound alive. At least, alive in the same way you and I are. I never knew any spirits when I lived in Equestria. I didn’t even know anyone who wasn’t a pony. They just weren’t in the castle - and before that, my fillyhood neighborhood only had ponies. If the World Tree you’ve seen is really alive in some way, I’m not sure I would understand how.

Enough of my rambling, though. Thank you for all your help, Twi. It’s been invaluable. I think the other Twilight is going to be as glad as me to hear that she wasn’t a demon, either. At least, I don’t think she was. Her transformation wasn’t because of the Elements of Harmony, but it was similar enough to mine, wasn’t it?

Your Friend, 
Sunset Shimmer




…




Dear Sunset,

I am so, so, so sorry! I should have made this as clear as possible right away. Your last letter was so horribly worried and I had been explaining too much, I forgot what mattered. My mirror-self has nothing to worry about with dark magic and demons. As long as she has been hit with the light magic on par with my world’s True Elements that you say she has. I had a bit of a scare myself there, since if she never had been… well, that would have been very nasty. 

Your Friend and Teacher,

Twilight Sparkle


> Failed Footnotes #3 (Lore) (EqG)
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Where did ponies - and other species - come up with a shared idea of being married? And why is it generally presented the same at the core across all the in-universe cultures? Isolation between sapient races spans various ages, and in all pieces of writing that I have spanning before the Collapse (and even before that) one of the earliest societal keystones described are unions and spouses and the like. It's only briefly mentioned and attributed to them, but concepts of weddings and marriage would have their foundations in divine and immortal practices. This would make the tradition to formalize and celebrate mated pairs so distinctly and specially a (mostly) Alicorn series of traditions. Mortals would have just been inspired and awed by the practice to the point that their cultures would have made their own diverse equivalents in their own civilizations. 

The core ideas of the practice would still be (mostly) universal, no matter who adopted the bond. Though, the exact significance would have a variance to different cultures. In the age of the Three Tribes, the unicorns would have seen it as a legal contract to swap property. For Alicorns, it would always be the greatest sign of devotion among lovers, and it wouldn't be taken lightly (why Alicorns tend to settle down with one other for eons and eons) because of how they founded things. 





A simple (but incomplete) list of species transformations performed when one steps through Lumina's Mirror (the mirror portal) and heads to Sunset Shimmer's adopted world:

Ponies ---> Ordinary Humans
Alicorns ---> Ageless Mages (of varying strength, but sorcerers all the same)
Draconequui ---> FUCKING SHAPESHIFTERS
Dragons ---> Dogs
Demons ---> Cats 
Griffons ---> Non-Vegan Humans (What did you expect?)
Phoenixes ---> Phoenixes
Breezies ---> Fairies 
Kirin/Qilin ---> Werewolves? Something confusing? I honestly never finalized what they might be.
Seaponies ---> Mermaids
Sirens ---> Excessively Youthful Magic Humans
Buffalo ---> Ordinary Humans
Windigo ---> (Most likely) wraiths, wendigo, some kind of primal spirit
Undead ---> Still Undead
Reapers ---> Grim Reaper-type entities 





If this doesn't start to shed some light on why I never expanded on my Equestria Girls stories and that side of the mirror as I did with the ponies, I'm not sure what else I can do to except spell it out: any series (nowhere near what I would have done in terms of complexity for the main stuff of the 'verse but certainly some novellas) would have been very elaborate in terms of the amount of planning that would have gone into these. They canon would have diverged so sharply from the first three movies into something resembling urban fantasy, likely with a focus on the human counterparts of the princesses, Sombra, Discord, and Sunset Shimmer. 

The central idea would be Sunset having to go into her strange new world beyond high school and uncover a variety of mystery and danger, with some parallels to the other stories from the horse side of the mirror, driven by her not/being unable to go home again. This world's Celestia and Luna live and operate quite separately outside of the high school side of their lives, beyond just having different homes. 

Celestia and Luna were apprentices to a wicked sorcerer (Starswirl) in days of old, with an Arthurian vibe to their past. Luna operates as more of a witch, and like her equine counterpart, she is the more powerful of the two sisters. Sombra acts as her beloved cat and familiar (thus their bond is platonic in this universe) and is general very goth-y outside of professional principal times. You can bet she lives in a big Victorian manor filled with all manner of eccentric things. She never fell to any kind of Nightmare Moon state, but often struggles with mental health, and has spent centuries as a wanderer on her own. Reuniting with her sister to keep a high school front around the portal and maintain a vacation-like ordinary life from their different travels is a break to her, and one that has allowed Luna to make peace after previous fights that can be expected from sisters prone to spats as any other. 

Luna adores magic and adventure, and is often shy. The woman lives a fulfilling live alone as an aromantic asexual with aspirations to have as many experiences with different cultures and places as possible. She has an affinity for the stars and the faint desire to know other worlds and a whimsy about her that she doesn't show other people. She is 1000% a cat person. Her love of mysteries and strong sense of justice has led her to investigate historical mysteries and act as a vigilante. She has neither fond nor foul feelings for other humans, and keeps herself away from the brunt of society in order to keep her solitary lifestyle as she wishes. 

Sombra and Celestia don't get along, but this dislike pales in comparison to their equine selves. Sombra distrusts Celestia and has no fondness for her and her ideals. Celestia isn't a cat person, but otherwise has little major grudge with the cat. She totally thinks he's a demon, though, completely unlike her graceful companion, Philomena. 

Without the paths in her life that her Alicorn counterpart has, or the many events and traits, this Celestia enjoys a fairly quiet immortal life. She's simpler, a pale reflection of the complicated mare on the other side of the mirror, but she still has some of her traits: her composure, many of her likes, a fraction of her magic, some of her morals, and some of her regal airs. However, she is mellow and only puts her purpose in simple living in the many mundace unskilled (and sometimes odd) professions she works at. She is a bit too optimistic, but lacks the urge to meddle, protecting her from many sorrows as a result of her optimism. 

She becomes willing to take on Sunset Shimmer as an apprentice in her post-high school years, knowing the younger woman has nowhere else to go while her friends advance in the wider world. Unlike Celestia and Luna, Sunset has not had the ability to ingrain herself in society as an unusual lurker, and remains without the means to live undetected as an anomaly/suddenly person from going through the mirror all those years ago. Without family, and with the knowledge that she likely would have to formally relive some of her she-demon crimes in a court AND be caught up in the turmoil in Equestria post-Enemy of Mine, Sunset tries to live under the roof of Principal Celestia, light mage and many other things. She's the self-appointed guardian of the mirror portal.

Principal Celestia lives in quaint suburbs, dipping in and out of the normalcy she enjoys and away from her sister's rural home. Living with her are her phoenix, apprentice, and spouse, the shapeshifter and taxidermist, Discord. They don't really fight crime. At least, not normal crime. She is deeply torn about whether she should let fairies stay in her garden or if she should fetch her broom. This Celestia is still deeply afraid of spiders, and even more afraid of the world's most neutrally aligned forces: the Reapers, Tirek, Scorpan, and their sister. (Neither of the brothers have ever fallen to villainy in this world.)

As the years pass, Sunset lives out the rest of her life as an ordinary human (though, one with a bit of Equestrian magic left) and helper to Principal Celestia, growing apart from any connections of the pony world she always longed for and still loved until her death. The rest of her life, from potential spouse(s) to the adventures she would have had in-between all remain unwritten, but I still have the notes, scraps, and other ideas that fueled this entry of Failed Footnotes. Though, I still toyed with a setting that was strictly more into lighter urban fantasy/magical girl type of stuff that resembled the post-Friendship Games direction/genre slightly more. All in all, any Equestria Girls material from me tends to echo my more fleshed out plot bunnies regarding the Principal Sisters as sorceresses. 

----

End #3
> Distance Beyond Sky and Ivory [Archive] [Bonus Content]
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Princess Celestia had dreams that she could remember, it was a rare thing. For those dreams to be anything more than the dull bleeding of her day trickling back at her was rarer still. The rarest occasion of all was less likely than blue moons, for it was when her mind was presented with all the surreal trappings of prophecy. Foredreams were always cursed with such creativity, and there was nothing that managed to get on the nerves of Princess Celestia quite like puzzles and mystic matters. Dreams were best with all the coziness and familiarity of doldrums, where every bit of magic was drained from them.



There was nothing more satisfying than waking up in a place not sure, unlike the one she had left. When her dreams let her see long-dead friends and all the sights fitting for a mare who loathed stepping out of castle and crown as she did, there was no sense of home lost. Never would she have to think of all the evils in the world that her ponies wouldn’t ever know, all the evils that slept more deeply than she ever would. A folk saying among mortals was that sleep was death’s younger sister, but Princess Celestia could only do and know one of those things. The other would always be alien and unattainable.



No, if sleep were kin to anything it was innocence. To sleep was to be submerged in the fuzzy, delightful haze of ignorance. That was sleep’s gift to Princess Celestia.



Nopony worried in their sleep.



Until one night, Celestia did.



She had a dream cursed with vividness, with far too much feeling. She knew it could not be her own. If she had ever been able to dream lucidly, Princess Celestia would have roused herself right then and there. Nothing was worse than to be fed the cryptic stream of future-puzzles sealed up in foredreams. Princess Celestia was a good mare who believed that good things happened to those who did good in turn. And why did she believe that? To her, destiny was a real hard force, one that gripped life more than air or the mortal need for food. Destiny was good, always.



That so many of the foredreams held anything but good and kind things was a cause for alarm. She didn’t want this, these dreams that spelled out a world where uncertainty was just as likely as happiness. Where apathy could exist.



She never wanted this. Not since she last had to step into the ruins of the Everfree Forest’s castle to pull what could be salvaged from its dark, ruined womb. It was there that she had to face that she had banished her better half — and that the sister she hung in the sky would never come home, though there was no longer a castle to come home to.



Not until this dream on this particular night. It was not on an inherently peculiar date, exactly five hundred and eighty-eight years before Princess Celestia would ever meet the last Faithful Student she would ever need. In this dream, she saw the shop of a fortune-teller in Canterlot, one that was rendered with such anxiety-inducing lucidity that she knew the place was real.



Princess Celestia knew that she needed to go there too; the foredream told her so, and it did more clearly than most of her other dreams had.



Were she to go there, Princess Celestia would no longer have to live every day like she was a neutron star.

And exactly two hundred and seventy-six years later, Princess Celestia would actually consider the words spoken within those walls.





“Why can’t I have a key?” Sunset asked, pouting. Her fiery waves fell around her face, sharply fracturing an even view of it. “It’s my bedroom, I think I deserve the key.”

“Sunny, unless Philomena creeps into your room at night and threatens to gobble you up, there’s no need for a key.”

Celestia’s attempt to tease was as lost on the filly as the foalish pet name. Eight days ago had been Sunset’s birthday, and the princess had a group of gifts she had given the filly: lip gloss, a hoof polish kit, one colorful compendium of magical sea creatures, a pre-paid year-long pass to a local arcade, a brand new calculator, and a fresh bouquet of sunflowers. The last item was a customary gift; every birthday her Faithful Student would get a bouquet of their favorite flowers freshly cut from Celestia’s gardens.

Sunset had been smiling when she had gotten her other usual gift: a scrumptious cake, just for them to share, made by the kitchen staff. It was Sunset’s favorite kind – Alicorn food cake with black cherry icing, sickly sweet and covered with sprinkles – and that hadn’t stopped Celestia from noticing the smiles Sunny had shown her didn’t feel like birthday smiles.

“That’s not fair!” the filly protested, crossing her forelegs and harrumphing.

“I think it is quite fair if you are going to be taking new things from other ponies. How else am I going to make sure you aren’t getting into trouble?”

She sulked all too obviously in her chair, with all the subtlety of her new makeup. ‘New’ because not all of it was from the small collection the princess had gifted her student. Sunset had managed to get an eyeliner pencil from somepony and apply thick rings around her eyes without poking herself. A smidgen of green apple chapstick was on her teeth.

(That, Celestia had gotten for her.)

There was no problem with makeup, but Celestia was of the opinion that fillies who wanted it should get into it gradually. Any filly under her care could paint themselves as much as they wanted and however they wanted when they were older. Sunset was an eleven-year-old filly currently putting a raccoon to shame in terms of eye-rings. It was absolutely ridiculous. At the very least, Sunset could have asked Celestia how to use the pencil properly if she felt mature enough to wear it, and Celestia would have shown her with some of her own makeup.

Sunset’s allowance could have certainly accounted for the purchase if Princess Celestia didn’t have Sunset Shimmer turn over all her receipts when she spent her bits (part of this incorporating financial responsibility into her lessons).

“Didn’t your other students have keys to their bedrooms?” Sunset asked, a whining edge in her tone. “Princess, what makes me so different?”

Celestia bit the inside of her cheek and discreetly took a deep breath with a sip of her tea. “You have been causing some trouble, and troublemakers aren’t rewarded in this castle. At least not until I start seeing some changes. And no, Sunset. None of my previous Faithful Students had a key to their rooms until they came of age and moved into the library tower for their full-time adult residence. We had a system of trust, and each of their guardians gave me their written approval for this. Sunny, your grandmother was very clear when she signed papers to transfer your guardianship to me that my rules were not going to be any trouble. Do you think your grandmother was wrong to trust me? Or that she was a foolish old gray mare by any means?”

“That’s still no fair! I shouldn’t have to wait years to get my key. Can’t I buy it? I get good grades!”

“I am not a mare who accepts bribes,” Celestia said, giving Sunset a stern look that her gentle tone lacked. “Even the bribes of fillies. Your marks are very good, Sunset. That isn’t what is going to get you more leniency around the castle.”

Sunset gave a heavy sigh too moody for her few years. When her ears swiveled, the clip-on phoenix feather earrings that she got last Hearth’s Warming jangled noisily. “Don’t I look nice?”

One of Princess Celestia’s eyebrows climbed higher. “If you feel nice, then you look nice. Though, if we work on turning some of your behavior around and getting that ambition under control, I will consider a shopping trip. Some nice, colorful new clothes could be some good motivation, don’t you think?”

Sunset looked away from her teacher’s smile. “Black is a very grown-up color. I don’t need a silly rainbow.”

What is it this filly could possibly want to make her understand what I’m trying to tell her?

“That may be, but you do need to-”

“Why are you always the one telling me what I need to do?” Sunset demanded, the hostility only found in brats sharpening her words. “I try too hard in lessons one day! The next day my clothes aren’t right for when that dumb Trottish king visits from Edinbridle. After that, I’m arrogant and con-dee-send-ing to the staff! Or, 'thrill-seeking’ and ‘disobedient’! We can't forget those!”

“Yes,” Princess Celestia said with a sharp breath. The taste of peppermint tea was still on her tongue and the paintings of her frolicking subjects were oblivious to the tension in the parlor. “I have told you some of those things, but never with the cruelty you see to throw back at me. I’ve never reprimanded you once in front of anypony else, even when you do not put your best hoof forwards, because I am not cruel. What I’ve had enough is you overstepping my boundaries and mistreating the ponies I care about by taking out your problems on others. Do you hear me, Sunset Shimmer?”

“Well.” Sunset sniffled heavily, her eyes squinted with too much petty anger to cry, “What I’ve had enough of is never being good enough for a mare farther away than the moon!”





“All of this is my room?” squeaked the wide-eyed, gangly filly. Her accent, an Equestrian-Istallion hodgepodge, lent an unusual rhythm to her words. Princess Celestia had spent enough time with the filly – including an especially long carriage ride from her village – to know some of the chatter-prone teenager’s way around words.

“Of course,” Princess Celestia said, smiling pleasantly, not bothering to give the chambers much of a second glance. It was only the standard fare for the lesser towers. “You can’t mean that you never had a bedroom back in Wispgrove, hm?”

The filly’s expression told her everything. Another little pony was staunchly immune to the idea that when it was appropriate, their princess teased. There was some relief in knowing that a merry teen like this filly might grow responsive to such things, which was something so different from Sunset Shimmer’s sullen habits.

“Umm.” Mi Amore Cadenza’s starstruck gaze fell to the floor, and she traced a hoof along the magic-infused marble. “No, Princess. I had one… it just wasn’t so big.”

“If you want something smaller-”

“No, no! I don’t mean to sound ungrateful!” The little one beamed up at her, lavender-tipped wings spread wide with the barely contained excitement that had been the young one’s constant state since her departure. “I’m not! I couldn’t be, Princess! This is just all so much! I don’t know where to begin thanking you-”

“Nor do you have to, Mi Amore Cadenza.” Especially since this is close to the three-hundredth time you've thanked me… “Just be sure to bring a list of furnishings you would like to my secretary, Raven. I’ll have you two introduced at evening tea-”

“FURNISHINGS?” the filly squawked. “That’s a full canopy bed!” She pointed a forehoof, hiding another odd chirp as her new horn drizzled a few sparks of blue magic with her energetic outburst. “I spy an armoire! A vanity that nearly wraps around the corner! OHMIGODS! I EVEN HAVE A BALCONY?!”

Princess Celestia’s smile shrank, and she took two graceful steps away from the doorway. Her (slightly weary, if she must admit) confusion buried itself behind much-needed patience. “Yes, furnishings. What you see here is a very bare bedroom, and I can’t imagine that your bathroom even has a toothbrush in it-”

“MY OWN BATHROOM?!” came the eager shrieks of the volume only permitted to teenage fillies (Celestia would know, long ago she had been one). If it weren’t for the big blue bow holding back her mane, the colorful curls of the teen would have spilled over her face with each ecstatic jump.

“Goodness, if your cottage did not even allow you a bathroom to yourself, are you going to tell me that you didn’t even have your own toothbrush?” Celestia feigned a gasp.

Hiding a smile was her true test of composure when she saw the utter confusion that drove the filly to silence. Standing in Celestia’s shadow, Mi Amore Cadenza cocked her head to the side and looked up at Princess Celestia, verging on bewilderment. “No way! I totally had on my own toothbrush, Princess. I just don’t get why I should have even more stuff…”

Her last words had trailed off into near-mumbles. One pink hoof reached up to rub under her bangs, but when they bumped that new horn, the filly couldn’t hide her flinch.

“There are many things you will need in your time here, and I’ll be sending you to stores with my Faithful Student when tomorrow comes to make sure you get the right supplies for your lessons. Sunset is close in age to you, and I’m sure she’ll know all the hippest spots you fillies like to get mane supplies and essentials. Until your parents mail some of your things, I want you to feel at home. You were talking about a band you liked on the trip here. Wouldn’t you like some posters?”

“Which band?” Mi Amore Cadenza asked innocently, unaware that Celestia could only so much chatter about Death Carriages for This or the Thin White Duchess of That before her ability to indulge in polite interest waned and her ears numbed totally.

“All of them?” Celestia offered, wishing that the filly might not detect that she was, in fact, asking a question.

Aha! Celestia thought when she caught sight of the light budding deep in the purple eyes of Mi Amore Cadenza. She had far too many Faithful Students not to know the sight of teenage scheming in a pony’s eyes – even if Mi Amore Cadenza was slightly older than her personal students, nor was she one.

“Yes, my dear. You may purchase all the posters you like – oh, and an alarm clock. You’ll certainly be needing one in the future!”

“Princess, I don’t know what I’m supposed to use to buy all these things. I don’t remember if I put any of my allowance in my saddlebags before leaving.”

Princess Celestia tutted. “Don’t worry about that matter, I’ll be setting you up with one from me eventually. Until then, just pick what you like and I’ll see that it is covered.”

A high, thin creaking kind of sound emanated from Mi Amore Cadenza’s mouth as it hung agape. The longer it went on, the more Princess Celestia found it to be not unlike the sound made by a squeaky door she had to fix last week.

It was only when Celestia offered a reaction: one gold-clad foreleg raised with the same uncertainty that Mi Amore Cadenza registered moments later.

Before the kind words to excuse herself came to mind, a pink blur barrelled forwards and Celestia’s front legs were grasped in a hug.

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you so much!” Mi Amore Cadenza squealed, squeezing what she could hold of the towering princess as tightly as possible. “Grazie mille! Sei il migliore insegnante che ci sia!”

A cruel lump lurked in Princess Celestia’s throat, threatening her with the potential reaction that her dry eyes knew not to show. “You’re welcome, Mi Amore Cadenza.” With hesitance and nagging thoughts about boundaries, she patted the filly’s head. “I wish for you to feel at home here, never forget that. If there’s anything that can be done for you, please just let me know.”

“Cross my heart, Princess!”

“That’s nice, dear,” Celestia said softly, trying to remember the last time Sunset Shimmer offered her such adoration. “Your future is important to me, my little pony.”

‘Future’ was such a funny word, too. Perhaps even a cruel one at times.

To be entirely honest – something that often felt uneasy even within the privacy of her own thoughts – Celestia had no idea exactly what she was supposed to do with Mi Amore Cadenza in the long run. At least, not concretely. She wasn’t a Faithful Student, but she would need to learn magic. However, she wouldn’t be able to have the dual classes at Celestia’s school that every Student had. After all, Mi Amore Cadenza didn’t have unicorn magic and she was too old compared to a normal attendee. Even if she had unicorn magic teachable to the school, poor Mi Amore Cadenza would find herself left behind diving into such a strict education so suddenly.

She would be a fool to ever pass up on the chance to shelter this filly, who would be such a target for danger without her. The horn and wings combo was all the evidence needed that she would be useful, even if it was not for all that Celestia wished. Not accounting for particularly troubling domestic situations, there was no nation that would not look upon the teenager as useful in ways much less kindly. For a mortal to bear horns and wings was an unprecedented event that any leader in the world would rub their hooves greedily over. Yet, it was now Celestia who ensured Cadance would stay in Equestria, never to be taken from her against either of their wishes.

There were many things that this filly could be, and none of them matched up with Celestia’s usual gambits. Too much disqualified her from being a Faithful Student, but she had to be taught anyway. The lists in the mind of Princess Celestia went on with the possibilities she had been considering thus far. A future diplomat was a nice, promising one. A loving, exuberant nature resided in this one.

It only made it more hurt that Celestia wished Mi Amore Cadenza was any different.





Philomena clucked contentedly from within the luxurious gilded cage she had in Celestia’s office. The spacy enclosure required a single column much like a tree trunk to house Philomena’s main home. Of all the particular bird cages scattered throughout the castle, this one was by far one of the nicest. The thought of letting Philomena stay anywhere less than comfortable when her phoenix ‘daughter’ was so adamant about keeping her company during the day was horrid. So Princess Celestia made sure to keep a variety of bird toys in the custom cage and in a basket in her office. This enabled her to rotate the various pieces so her 'Mena would never get bored.

Her quill twirled in her cheery magic aura, scratching out the last few letters and loops. Upon finishing, Princess Celestia levitated it out of the way, exchanging it for the next piece she needed to prepare correspondence for. One wax seal bearing the mark of Maretonia was broken and Celestia proceeded to squint at the contents, levitating her scroll close enough to catch the scent of the ink used, as odd as it was.

“’Mena, you won’t believe it! Mama’s letter says that the Duke of Maretonia finally took a bride! And so suddenly! Can you believe it?”

Philomena, not in a particularly chatty mood, offered a loud squawk.

“Goodness me! There is no need to be so harsh, young lady. He had a previous lack of interest, not a lack of manners.” Celestia let the paper lie on the surface of her massive and overcrowded desk, the light of her sun only making her current pile of work that much more glaring. “I’ll have to plan a proper gift for their honeymoon.”

A fussier and much more opinionated series of tweets left Philomena, whose coal-like eyes glowed with sudden alertness.

Celestia gave a tiny frown, tugging at the curl along her cheek in thought. “Yes, he and I did have much to disagree on at his last visit here, but that is no excuse to forgo something so important. I’m afraid that my kindness matters more than how we really feel about something. A show of goodwill to him and his new bride should be enough to persuade him to think more favorably of Equestria.”

Philomena's flaming feathers ruffled with uncertainty in the noonday light, and their tips cast dazzling glows of their own before she folded her wings for rest again.

Princess Celestia shook her head and clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. The slightest twitch of agitation flowed throughout her mane once before vanishing. She returned to her work, idly selecting a modest bunch of papers secured with a ribbon. From where she held it, the princess could see rows of cramped writing out of the corner of her already-tired eyes. Thoughts of coffee, tea, and sugar wafted through the edge of her mind, where thoughts were foggiest.

Before she could properly undo the ribbon, something tucked among all those papers slipped out. The glitter leaking from somewhere within did too.

Celestia stared at the envelope blankly, and she felt how her smile had vanished, leaving an entirely lukewarm expression in its place. “Oh my.”

Mi Amore Cadenza had stuck another card in between the stack of papers at some point. For a few weeks, the little surprises found their way into Princess Celestia’s office, which was understandable, since she left the door open for everypony who might need her. Faithful Students never slipped her anything more than plain notes about homework and lessons – and not the kind Mi Amore Cadenza was receiving, a balanced blend of politics, rhetoric, spellwork, current affairs, etiquette, and similar subjects. It made up for the teenager’s failure to pass any magic academy exams to complement the education Princess Celestia so carefully customized for her, and while she found the ‘sweet spot’ where to keep her pink ward’s studies (somewhere above the Blueblood heir’s with more ruling focus but nowhere near as inflexible as the trials and academics of a Faithful Student, thus making Mi Amore an in-between).

However, it didn’t explain the constant stream of cards sandwiched between nearly everything Celestia needed in her day. Or why there was a different color of glitter poured into each envelope. On this particular one, the canary-yellow surface was the backdrop for a vast collage of smiling ladybug stickers. In the one space that hadn’t been bombarded with them was one name written in large, swirling script: Cadance.

The trace of a smile snuck across Princess Celestia’s muzzle and she worked her magic delicately under the envelope to tear it carefully. Nopony ever slipping her these kinds of notes before didn’t mean she didn’t like them. She could read them during her lunches and tea breaks in the castle gardens when she didn’t have company, and get a peek into the mind of the teenager who had been staying with her these past few months. Sometimes, they contained helpful tidbits, like the latest records the young mare wanted to add to her collection or if she was making friends.

Other times, there was no bridge-building to be made from the contents, and Celestia put down each card having nothing more than the rambling writing of a happy youth who had yet to wrangle her own horn-writing… and about whom Princess Celestia was still at a loss when it came to purpose.

Sunset Shimmer was a mare brimming with promise, and entirely unlike her latest ward. A unicorn with magehood certain in their future shortly after they got their cutie mark wasn’t normal, even among other Faithful Students, and for a time, Celestia had made sure Sunset knew this. Pure pyromancy was nothing to be trifled with and worth cultivating, lest it grow naturally - and dangerously. One had better keep a fire in their hearth than letting sparks fly outside, after all.

Sunset’s cutie mark had been a puzzle, if Celestia was to keep that path of thought short. When she had first selected Sunset Shimmer as her Faithful Student, she had thought that the filly might be the one and that her cutie mark had more than what Celestia eyes could see in its meaning. That was the puzzle she had expected, and the very one she had been wrong over. There was no doubt a filly in the castle wishing for her letter to be read.



Dear Princess Celestia,

Today I went out with Raven on her break instead of going for a jog. That doesn’t mean I’m neglecting my essay on the history of Qilinese philosophy, I promise! I just really wanted to see if I could draw Raven out of her shell some more. I see her around the castle so much, and she rarely talks about her life outside of secretary things. It made me wonder if she feels like nopony pays attention to her, kind of how when I was interviewed by The Canterlot Chronicle nopony was asking me about anything but what the insider's scoop on castle life was. There wasn’t even any focus on the best parts or what I enjoyed, only if I was living every filly’s dream.

I know I am living every filly’s dream, but can it be my dream too? Will ponies ever want to know about that? Should I write a book?

Sorry for rambling, Princess. I just thought that maybe Raven would like a friend to know what she really likes to do. We went to Restaurant Row for lunch and it was so big! Is there no end to all the places to eat in Canterlot? We only had a single inn in Wispgrove, and they kicked everypony underage out around dinner, when dry hours ended. I’m sure you already know that, though. Being Princess of all of Equestria means you’ve eaten everywhere, right? I bet you were there when they first built The Bleezin Breezie and had the first stew pie. I let this amazing mom pose her adorable little foals with me for a picture! I never would’ve imagined places as fancy as Restaurant Row would host foal birthday parties. The napkins were folded into amazing shapes: dragons, bugbears, and even a seapony! Could we make those in magic lessons? I don’t know if there’s certain spells for them, I just think they look like fun.

Raven wouldn’t let me pay for lunch. I would have asked her to let me more if she hadn’t gotten all adult-y and upset about proper behavior. She treats me like a princess, you know. I would have gotten something off the soup and salad menu if I knew she wouldn’t let me pay for my own food. I like Raven a lot, if the castle has ears, it’s her. I just wish she would do more than listen to other ponies. I really super-duper hope I didn’t make a scene just because we had a disagreement.

Did you know that Raven decorates her apartment like an office? Not just any office, but one of those tall Manehattan ones from the movies where all you can hear is quill scratches and typewriters clacking. Everything is a rainbow of off-white, which isn’t much of a rainbow at all. She does have a bright pink typewriter and even let me use it! Her kid sister dropped by. Do you know her? Colombe is nice too, with crazy real rainbow colors on her braces and her mane and tail are so white they look like they glow. She has the prettiest pink eyes and we wrote a dumb story on Raven’s typewriter.

I won’t bore you about it, but I wanted to know if I had your permission to go with Colombe to the movies on Friday? She invited me to go see a princess movie with her about a seapony. I know I’m probably too old for those, but I don’t care. She’s such a sweet little filly and I’ve never seen a real movie before. I didn’t know they had ones with moving drawings instead of real ponies. I promise I’ll pay for all the snacks and make sure to walk Colombe home. I don’t mind if some of the guards have to accompany me, I can buy them tickets too. I saved up a lot of bits!

Normally I wouldn’t mind if Sunset came along too. I’m just kind of peeved with her, and it’s not just because she stole my mane straightener from my room. She just isn’t very kind to me. I keep trying to invite her to things with me and talk to her, but I don’t want to be that chummy with her. Why is it so hard to just be polite with her? I wouldn’t ever be rude to your Faithful Student because I know she’s a very important pony and means a lot to you, but she’s nearly slammed a door on my wing before. I wouldn’t have minded if it was just in my face. I get that she’s all vinyl jacket and black eyeshadow now (so you’d think that she would have totally been into some cool music) but it’s almost like she wanted my wing to get caught. Isn’t that beyond bullying?

Now that I have this horn there are so many ponies paying attention to me and telling me how I’m a brave, witch-bashing, amazing filly. I don’t mind it too much, even if ponies acting like Missus Prismia was a rotten meanie (I don’t want to write anything bad!) really ruffles my feathers – she was just hurting! What I don’t like is a bully, even if they’re the kind of bully who lives in a beautiful castle. I was bullied for getting my cutie mark late, for being adopted, and trying to start a band with my friends back home. I don’t want to be bullied after all this. Princess Celestia, if Sunset Shimmer is bullying me, don’t you think she’s probably bullying somepony else too?

Maybe you know something I don’t and I’m not being singled out for anything. It just kinda feels like it. What do I have that Sunset Shimmer doesn’t? I’ve always done my best to be my best to her. Sunset is supposed to be like a cousin, isn’t she? Like Blueblood. He likes me, and so does everypony else. I think. Is it wrong for me to think that ponies don’t hate me because they treat me so well?

Do you want me to talk to Sunset Shimmer instead? I promise I will, if you want me to. We might still be able to be friends one day. Have a good lunch, Princess! Please say ‘hello’ to Philomena for me.

Yours truly,

Cadance

P.S. I would like you to please call me Cadance in the future. I don’t mean to be rude with my request, and if I have to be called Mi Amore Cadenza at formal events that is fine! Everypony calls me Mi Amore Cadenza, in that case. All my friends and family call me Cadance, and ponies that really like me, or just can’t say my full name. Raven likes to call me Princess Cadance, and I’m not sure I can handle being called this endless princess-princess-princess stuff. From her. I’ve been trying to introduce myself to Equestrian ponies as Cadance, and sometimes they listen after just one 'princess'. Cadance is my name as much as Mi Amore Cadenza is, and you haven’t called me anything except my full name since we’ve met. Everypony else in the castle isn’t on a full name basis with you. I know Raven only has one name and Blueblood hates his first name, but that’s different.



The lighter fare of Cadance’s usual letters had not made their way into this latest one. A different name would take some getting used to, but the request would not be ignored. Everything else had eased something sour into Princess Celestia’s mood. At some point, Philomena had flown from her cage and left the room. This left Celestia alone with Cadance’s words.

Letting out a weary sigh, Celestia set the letter on the desk and she let her magic aura die away. Sunset would be getting a talking-to later, that was certain. Nothing could excuse such blatant cruelty to another one of her peers.

A brief, pale stream of gold aura reached out and shut the door. Pulling open a drawer with her forehoof, Princess Celestia deposited a key onto the table, levitated it to the proper spot, and neatly locked her door. Some who wielded magic more prominently as a full extension of themselves and like another sense entirely would often master the ability to lock a door without a key. This required a finesse Celestia neither had and had long since given up any chance of trying to build. Sunset Shimmer had the infuriating habit quite similar to the impressive manipulations: often, she would seize the inner mechanics of the door to her chambers and wrench the door shut. She would then hold the lock in the oversaturated grip of her magical energy, leaving Celestia forcing down frustration at such opposition.

Without any chance of interruption, Celestia buried her face in her forehooves. Chilly gold spread its freezing sensation across her tired face. Celestia only let it sink in as she rubbed at her temples with sluggish strokes. Her whole body was a testament to the fatigue that went concealed throughout the endless hours, unseen and unsaid to everypony. Even her mane and tail rippled with limper motions, their sparkle lessening as there was a sudden sag to them.

Sunset’s many attempts at rebelliousness could be put off. The latest in a long line of Faithful Students she may be, but at the end of the day, Sunset Shimmer was a unicorn filly approaching adolescence and going through her share of harsh words and nastiness. Cadance, as the teen wished to be called, was no such thing. Goodness, the latter was in the very dusk of youth, no less! Marehood was only a blink away, and the mellowness of the much more compliant ward was a stark sign of maturity.

Prophecies were a cruel thing, and at the core of this were the tangled roots of one. Celestia did not hate destiny because she felt it was something that governed little in her life, rather the opposite. If anything, it didn’t govern enough. Too much was left to its own devices and there was a greater crushing malaise to be presented when examined as a ‘big picture’.

‘On the longest day of the thousandth year, the stars shall aid in her escape…’

Even if she was initially stubborn about the matter, she never needed to ask who ‘she’ was. Some time ago, her objective presented itself dully: find an answer even when that felt more like making one. Omens were an awful science, as they were often called. However, Princess Celestia preferred to think of them as detached, alien cruelty she needn’t fear with her every breath if such an integrating truth like science or magic were not bestowed to them. There was relief in knowing that they were already a rare thing, to be given out only when Harmony had something called hope to offer her.

Only, those were the times when it couldn’t be any crueler; hope itself was a painful thing to keep (if kept) and was merely held just above her like a starved cur was taunted with meat. Celestia couldn't remember a time in her life when she had trusted it.

Everything about a prophecy could be picked down to a few points. If somepony didn’t know better and had yet to be wrapped up in the cruelty of one, they might feel relief. No sense of purpose was ever meant to be a cruel thing… and yet, Celestia was hard-pressed to recall when purpose and helplessness were identical in her life. She believed in the reality of hard destiny, and riddles were a nuisance to that.

And so it was that the moon was the lock, to which there was a key. Why, the key was even color-coded for her convenience. All that she must do was find it as if the needed Spark could be demeaned to that as a name.

One magenta spark, six-pointed, unseen and entirely unknown to any eyes but hers for nearly a thousand years.

Once, she had almost a thousand years to find her key. Now those years were running out, and it had every bit to do with how much doubt Celestia had cast upon the prophecy for much of the time she knew it. Yes, she had doubted a prophecy of all things, and in hindsight, she was painfully aware of how costly and foolish it had been of her, for prophecies were not just few and far between, but to doubt them so severely was like doubting that fish couldn't drown. Could anypony blame her for the desperation that would lurk in her at the thought of this, knowing it was her one chance?

First, she had gone with selection. Her school was a fine filter, and then her method was to select the best few as wards, making the first Faithful Students. As a teacher, that was the garden she grew, and each generation brought greater refinement and involvement. Grades alone would not make the cut, there were tests established to remedy this.

Within a few generations of Sunset Shimmer, there was more to take into account. A particular affinity for names and their sacredness had arisen in Celestia. Anything that spoke out with the energy of a pupil determined to keep their hoof raised and waving for a question that ’I am the key, please pick me!’ would soon be very high on her list.

Sunset Shimmer was too perfect of a name to find on the roster for her school. There was always something endearing about a foal with a new cutie mark to sweep under her wing and grow in her own tutelage, leaving Celestia to muse on whether her shadow simply shrank or if the Faithful just grew up somewhere in the middle of the distance between teacher and student.

Eight pointed suns were almost six-pointed sparks, that is until she tried swapping ‘almost’ with close enough in an effort of consolation. Marks weren’t all that made a pony! Sunset Shimmer was very good at showing that – and not in the ways Celestia needed so badly. Nor had Celestia ever had two very magical youths under her care; all her past Faithful Students had been talented, but Sunset was powerful and Cadance was special beyond any of her past pupils.

Celestia liked Cadance so very much. She was a sweet, loving filly who made friends with everypony so easily. She cared about ponies, but not in any kind of way that was, erm, Sparky, if such a description could be offered. Cadance hadn’t a mind for magical arts. Oh, she was rare and talented but not enough. Princess Celestia couldn’t even offer herself a total picture of what her much-needed final Faithful Student would be like in their entirety, and the more she tried to explain their nature to herself, she always ended up more lost than when she started. She only knew what their hero-errand would be and the sign to know them by.

It wasn’t enough.

Cadance’s cutie mark was a gosh-darned crystal heart that Celestia could only think to compare to the jewel off the grandest wedding ring. What else could it be? Not anything close to her needed Spark, that was certain. The filly aside, Cadance was a pained bunch of sour grapes that Celestia couldn't understand the cruelty behind. A filly with promise above promise, accomplishing a ghost of what would be needed of her, and unique magic to awe Celestia. The depth and power of it were as marvelous as the originality of the talent, and still, if it had just been…

Had Cadance’s cutie mark only been…

What would it have been? If there had been anything different about the mark or Cadance herself?

Her remarkable, self-made metamorphosis was closer than Celestia had ever gotten with any of her Faithful Students. The only account she had to offer any insight into the transformation came from the mouth of a filly permanently wonderstruck by events, providing nothing to Celestia that she could ever attempt to replicate or understand.

She was only left with the curdled hope of what might have been a miracle filly.

And Celestia did find herself growing fonder of Cadance the longer she had her, different than studenthood. Cadance was bright and full of smiles. There was something left in her that was still eager to please – and that had left Sunset Shimmer long ago. The silly shenanigans that Cadance could pull her into carried echoes of youth that Celestia knew her young ward never intended. Romantic notions, easygoing antics, and getting to dip her hooves into a shadow of what a normal teenage fillyhood would have been like (albeit from a different perspective) boosted Celestia’s spirits in ways she couldn’t say to a young heart (even if she knew how).

Every bit of it came from a filly who still could do nothing to measure up to matters of stars and omens, and who didn't know that Celestia was still at a loss for what they might be to one another.

How do you tell a child that she will never be enough?

You don't.

Especially when it's true.





The harsh sobbing of Sunset Shimmer was an unfamiliar assault to Princess Celestia’s ears. But she knew it could be none other than Sunset who made the sound, even if she had never once heard Sunset cry. That was many of the peculiarities of Sunset Shimmer; she was the youngest Faithful Student that Princess Celestia had ever had, and yet she would never, ever cry.

Would she stamp her hoof? Absolutely. Whenever the filly fit so neatly in Celestia’s shadow, there was a way that she would paw at the ground and kick. It was always when her princess had a correction to Sunset’s form – or her Student’s everything – and that creativity was never to take the place of order, nor was deviance from rules a proper form of exercise in learning. Unfortunately, Sunset was always so very vocal about that.

Stamping aside, she had tantrums that Celestia could only presume were an inevitable phase for a filly her age. That was the only reason she tolerated them when they had their privacy – her Sunny was a teenager, and one that would outgrow all her harsh words and edges. Thus, Celestia let her Faithful Student have some inappropriate fire, knowing that she didn’t have to listen to the crueler nature of teenage complaints because they would all fade with time.

She approached Sunset’s door. The sounds of retching sobs only grew, disturbing her enough for her ears to slip back before Princess Celestia could control herself. Something deeply violent – and even worse, horribly passionate – was buried deep in those sounds.

How could there be all these tears? Celestia had been careful to give Sunset her space after the debacle and against her better instinct to be the hovering force that filly needed. Cadance had just needed her more.

Cadance had been the filly with reason to cry.

When the door was small before Celestia, she abandoned all pretenses of slinking about. It was a hard thing to do as a mare of her stature, and she was never one to be made small in her own home.

Her magic wrapped itself around the handle, bright and shining. Princess Celestia breathed a sigh of relief when the handle twisted easily. If there was one thing that was rooted too deeply in Sunset’s mind and words, it was the matter of her room key. She had taken to jamming her door shut with nuisance magic, even going so far as to weld previous handles and hinges to seal herself inside during previous outbursts, insisting that her music was never too loud, she hadn’t rolled her eyes, and that Celestia was smothering her – which was absolutely not true, as were the monologues about needing privacy. Young and moody fillies were not to be left alone. Heavens knew how neglected they could feel without supervision and guidance.

The tween’s pyromancy was a constant source of scolding, with Celestia ensuring that her Faithful Student wrote enough lines to fill two notebooks about not engaging in delinquency or wasting her talents – and using up the stationery meant for letters to her grandmother or mandatory apologies to the staff each time she had to be freed from her mistakes.

Sunset was well on her way to filling up her third notebook, which was stored neatly in Princess Celestia’s office with the others and copies of all of Sunset’s letters. Those were to be reviewed aloud whenever Sunset Shimmer went back on a promise to somepony, not limited to but including whenever another door had to be replaced.

“Sunset Shimmer?” Celestia called, keeping her voice between delicate and stern. That filly needed to know that she was still going to be in trouble after her tears were banished. “You’ve had a whole half-hour to yourself. I think that’s more than enough, don’t you?”

“Go away,” hissed the voice of Sunset.

Celestia didn’t need to poke her head past cheery, pale blue sheets to know that Sunset had her face pressed into her pillow. It muffled everything meant to be intimidating about her words, save for the unnerving contempt that oozed from them.

“You know that I’m not leaving until you fix what you did wrong. Cadance is still very distraught about what happened.” After ducking through the frame and pulling the rest of her mane through the comparatively narrow doorway, Princess Celestia shut the door. “That filly didn’t deserve your words.”

“I don’t c-care,” stammered Sunset from her lair.

Celestia sighed, watching the writhing of sheets out of the corner of her eye. Distasteful posters and other decals had been plastered over what part of the walls Sunset could access without help. Desecrating their soft, elegant colors were a variety of drag racing carts, ghastly metal bands, and snarling sea monsters. Bottles of black hoof polish and mangled mascara sticks were crammed across Sunset’s vanity. Many were uncapped. The sight of a dark sweatshirt hanging across Sunset’s laundry basket so carelessly made Celestia purse her lips into a strained, thin line.

“You need to care because there is a filly alone in her room crying her eyes out over some very nasty words you said, young lady. Screaming and cursing in somepony’s face is never deserved. I need you to understand that and apologize to Cadance.”

“I don’t wanna.” The sheets writhed again from the hooves kicking under them.

“This isn’t about what you want.”

“It never is!” Sunset shouted suddenly.

The patter of Celestia’s heart rose and fell with the suddenness of her Faithful Student’s aggressive words. “That is a very selfish mindset to have, and I will tolerate no such conceited behavior in my castle.”

“Then why don’t you leave, huh? Everything’s always about you and what’s perfect—”

“First of all, that is unacceptable to say about your teacher. Second, none of that is true. I am not a mare for pride or stubbornness because I have spent centuries weeding out such things and learning differently. Ponies who act otherwise would not have friends, and I certainly would not tolerate their actions as a Faithful Student. Do you mean to tell me that I, who sacrifice everything for you and welcome you into my home, have somehow placed myself above you? Above anypony?”

“Yes!” screamed Sunset, and Celestia had to dodge a pillow wrapped in her Student’s magic, as per usual. “Yes, yes, yes! You never let me—”

“I’m starting to think I let you get away with far too much,” Celestia said, clicking her tongue and stepping around another pillow’s path. She trotted coolly up to where her Faithful Student was making her display of temper and pulled back the canopy bed’s curtain.

“C-Cadance got to be a Princess...” spat Sunset, using her forehooves to rub her pillow into her hidden face. “Why h-her? You’ve never even met her!”

“And what is that accusation supposed to mean, hm?” Celestia stood with an unfazed mask of calm as she regarded the strands of firey mane angrily tangling the pastel pillowcase. She rarely showed anything less, and certainly would never face a child with anything suggesting true frustration or flaws. What young one could ever cope with knowing that they put a strain on their elders? It wasn’t right. “I put great care into introducing you two, and you scream these kinds of curses in her face. Such a display of emotion—”

“It’s more than you ever show!”

These were the remarks Celestia could never bring herself to dignify. “Cadance deserves an apology. You will give her one.”

“What?” Sunset spat gloomily into her nest of blankets. “I don’t get a choice?”

“How can you behave that way towards Cadance and think this is about you having choices? Sunset, I am here because your poor actions went against what a sweet young filly like Cadance deserves. Don’t you think she wants to be your friend? She has nothing against you, nor she has ever done anything to bring you down. Yet you have torn her down upon your first encounter. Can you not imagine the pain it brings me to see you disgrace her like that?”

“So what?” Sunset hissed, tone bordering on an unequine snarl. “You let her have everything!”

“That is where you’re simply wrong—”

“Yes!” Sunset shrieked into her pillow, wadding it up to her face and kicking her hindlegs in frustration. Their angry thumps beat into her already messy bedsheets. “Because it’s me! I’m always the wrong one! Not you! Tartarus, why can’t it ever be you?! When do you ever get to be wrong?”

Princess Celestia inhaled sharply. “What did I tell you about speaking this way?”

Sunset’s hidden-faced, angry shuddering slowed, and with it, the motion of her twisted sheets lessened. “To never talk about my elders that way.”

“And do you know why I tell you that?”

“Age begets wisdom,” Sunset puffed, pawing at her unruly locks with a defiant gesture of her forehoof, “or something like that.”

“Apathy and anger suit nopony, my Faithful Student. They are poison in all ways, and no good heart has them.”

“Is that your way of telling me I’m t-terrible, Princess?”

Though Sunset did not look at her, Celestia kept her expression smooth of emotion as she shook her head. It was not the bit of formality wrapped in misbehavior that bothered her – Sunset always addressed her with title alone or her name following it, as the filly was instructed to – the idea that her Faithful Student had such little faith in her struck a poor chord in Celestia.

“Of course not, my Faithful Student. The only thing terrible to speak of has been your behavior—”

“But—” Sunset began, with hints of upset already pouncing in her cracking voice.

“I’m speaking right now, Sunset,” Princess Celestia chastised Sunset swiftly, “and I have told you that interrupting isn’t polite, now haven’t I?”

Sunset’s only reply now was to force her muzzle deeper into her pillow, with a manner suggesting she was clenching her jaw. The filly’s whole body was quivering with upset that would need time and lectures to defuse.

“You say that young Cadance has everything, but what Cadance hasn’t told you is how alone she is.”

“Why can’t she tell me that herself?”

“Young lady,” cautioned Princess Celestia, “who is it that was speaking? You, or me?”

“Technically—”

“Ah, ah, ah!” Celestia waggled a forehoof primly in her Faithful Student’s direction, an errant beam of sunlight making the gold shine much more harshly. “I don’t want to hear any more protests. When I speak, it is with the voice of those who often cannot bring themselves to illuminate that which burdens them. Are those really the words you wish to squash, my Faithful Student?”

“Mmpfh,” harrumphed Sunset through a mouthful of her pillow.

“You forget empathy, and with it, kindness. Cadance is a filly much like yourself, young and full of feelings that are going to be telling you many confusing things – the kind of things that you will be laughing at many years from now. She needs friends as much as you, for she left her family and the only home she had ever known behind. When you arrived at my school all the way from Tall Tale, you were exactly the same. Showing her anything but the utmost respect is hypocritical on your part. She is hurt, Sunset, and deserves an apology.”

“Deserves?” Sunset sniffled loudly. “Why is it that you get to say who deserves everything?”

“She who bears the crown knows these things, my Faithful Student. I have spent my life looking out for all my little ponies, and you don’t think I know who deserves what and who does not, or anything of a good greater than even I? I do not reward poor behavior, and how you have been acting is absolutely unacceptable. Cadance not only deserves her apology; she will be getting one. What in the heavens’ name could make you think she has anything you don’t?”

“She has wings,” Sunset pouted.

“That filly was born with wings.”

“Yeah,” Sunset whined, a hiccup entering her tone. “Well, I don’t have any!”

“She is a very special case,” Celestia said, her words coming out with the care of spun glass. There were things too big for this filly to understand, and Celestia was not about to admit that she was not some breezie godmother who made every little filly a princess. Heavens only knew how such an ill-chosen answer could reflect on them both. “And you neglect to see that though Cadance stays with me, I still only have one Faithful Student.”

Years ago, those kinds of words so stuffed with warmth would have drawn Sunset to her as easily as a bird looking to eat seeds from her hoof. For reasons Celestia could not begin to understand, these very words now had Sunset Shimmer sobbing into the pillow she clutched all over again. The only thing Princess Celestia could find relief in was that Sunset’s obscured face meant that the filly could not see her teacher recoil, stunned and afraid by the reaction her words had received.

With the greatest reluctance, Princess Celestia inched out a hoof as though she were about to guide a baby breezie’s first steps. She patted Sunset Shimmer upon her wither lightly, but not without familiarity, and she felt far away from the filly’s emotions. The kind of odd, fluffy itch in her chest that rose during all these moments, knowing the barrier between Sunset’s teenage tempestuous mind and her own life was merely inevitable.

She couldn’t think of anything to say – so she put her energy into simple pats and screwed-tight composure because the creeping silence she detested was pressing down on her thoughts in one fell swoop.

The nothingness squeezed at Princess Celestia as Sunset’s sobs rose with her efforts to calm the filly.

“Princess?” Sunset squeaked after some time, her voice dry and choked.

Celestia watched calmly as Sunset Shimmer lifted her head to face her teacher, her Faithful Student’s face visibly smeared with runny patches of mascara as prominent as piebald splotches. Sunset’s eyes were a watery, red, and puffy mess.

Princess Celestia knew that making any attempt to acknowledge the physical disarray so boldly presented from under bright tangles of mane would be a poor direction for her behavior.

“Yes, my Faithful Student? Do you feel any better?”

Sunset ignored the second question, only dignifying it with a raspy hum. She squeezed her teary eyes together for a few heartbeats at the sunlight brightening her room. “Could I ask you something?”

“Is it about Cadance’s horn?”

“No, I promise it isn’t.” Sunset opened her eyes again to rub at her snotty muzzle, and there were a dozen chastisements caught in Princess Celestia’s throat at the sight of snot hanging on Sunset’s coat in unsightly globs.

“If that is so, then you may ask me whatever you wish, Sunset.” Celestia tried to show the smile she thought would be soft and appropriate enough for the situation.

“Princess, do you love me?” Sunset asked, blinking her messy eyes directly up at her.

Celestia’s smile was too practiced to be caught off guard by the inquiries of the young – and really, a tween was only a taller child with moody phases and words they didn’t mean heavy upon their tongue.

“Why,” Celestia beamed gently down at Sunset, at last letting her mind ease itself into the pleasant tone Sunset was taking things, “of course I do! You are my most Faithful Student, and I have loved every little unicorn to bear that title most dearly. Whyever would you think I didn’t?”

Sunset didn’t blink, her eyes fixing Celestia with a sudden coolness beneath her face of ruined makeup. Something about the filly suddenly shrank into an owlish, unreadable state so solemn and odd.

“Because I had to ask you.”





Sunset Shimmer scowled and quelled the embers of aura forming on her horn. The sparks of fire as lively and vibrant as her coat vanished with a haze of cyan. Instead of a soft twinkling sound, there was an audible, temperamental pop to the magic. The thirteen-year-old filly took a deep breath, though it was one of disbelief rather than exhaustion. Then, she looked Princess Celestia directly in the eyes.

"What do you mean 'that's it'?"

Celestia brushed a few cinders off her withers and remained aloof. It was as though no gray speckles of debris had marred her coat in the first place, such was how immaculate her expression was. "Oh, my Faithful Student, I meant exactly what I said, Sunset. I don't need to see any more of your spell. You have failed this test, and I am sure you will do much better next time. Please review your instructions better for—"

Sunset blinked back ash-induced tears. Her muzzle was crinkled up and she tried to shoot the princess an icy gaze. "What's wrong with my spell?"

"I asked if you could hit all the targets on the tarp above us, and with no more than three bolts of fire maximum." Princess Celestia nodded up to the tarp hanging just above them, previously pulled too taut to sway. Except now, it was punctured perfectly in all but the last carefully painted target. Each hole was like a wound in some brightly colored silken flesh. The frayed edges bled ashes down on the goddess and unicorn below, the majority of the stuff settling on the head of the latter like a misshaped crown.

"I used one bolt of fire for all of them! Princess, I almost hit every single one! I was able to control the flame perfectly and—"

Princess Celestia cut her student off with a mere wave of her hoof. "You are too arrogant, my Faithful Student. I am afraid that pride fits nopony, and is what perches in the heads of so many and convinces them to shut their ears to the word of others. Do you want to be that kind of pony?"

Sunset pulled back from the princess' reach, her eyes narrowing with a verbal sting Princess Celestia couldn't recall giving. "Too arrogant? There was nothing in the rules you set down that I couldn't do this! I practiced that spell for weeks, just like you—"

"Are you suggesting that you looked to bend the rules of this assignment for your own pleasure? The rules exist for a reason, Sunset. Why do you continue to seek to disobey the rules I have made for your education? Why must you be so focused on pride?"

A small spark too light next to Sunset Shimmer, but she angrily stopped it out with a forehoof. "Of course there are rules! Magic can't exist without rules..." Sunset took a heaving breath fit for an unruly child, "...but the rules you've been teaching me by... they're beyond rigorous, Princess! They're... They feel wrong! You never give me anything to challenge myself! What can I possibly take pride in? I've been wasting so much of my potential... if I have any left. I wanted to challenge myself, since you won't."

"Sunset, you are not here—" Princess Celestia swept a wing to indicate Canterlot Castle behind them, "—for the purpose of being challenged. You are my Faithful Student because you have great power that you need to learn to keep in check. Most of all, you have proven that you have enormous potential which—"

Sunset Shimmer stamped her hoof with such blatant disobedience that Princess Celestia barely had time to control the flush of her face and bury it. "What's the point of me having the potential to do anything if I never put it to use?! I don't feel like a Faithful Student at all; I'm not learning anything other than rules! Your rules, that's all I've really been learning! My own cutie mark tells me I'm supposed to play with fire—it feels right! I could finally do something that feels right!"

"Sunset—"

"Am I just some sort of trophy to you, Princess? It doesn't feel like being a Faithful Student is meant to be anything at all. Come on, won't you please tell me? What's the point? You keep acting like it's gonna be me — or one of the previous ones — that is meant to be the best of the best. But in five years, it sure seems like all that being a Faithful Student entails is prestige and more library privileges. Oh, and I get to ogle at myself in the stupid castle pillars."

"Sunset Shimmer," Princess Celestia cautioned, her tone stern and almost cold. The spitfire of a filly ignored every hint of her mentor's warning.

"The last Faithful Student became a college professor. All she ever did was die old and... now she's just a portrait in the halls of the castle or a name to have on one of the campus buildings of your school. If we're so special then why did Gusty just... fade from everything?"

Princess Celestia cleared her throat with the utmost, highly frustrating degree of politeness. "Sunset, Gusty did not 'fade' and you shouldn't speak of what you don't understand— "

"I feel like I'm just supposed to be some kind of ornament instead of a real pony."

Celestia looked appalled. "You are a real pony, Sunset. Why would you believe that you weren't? Just what do you think other ponies would say if they heard you say something so negative? Why in the heavens' name would you ever say something so morbid and cynical?"

"I'm not treated like one, maybe? I don't want to be a good filly who stays at your side forever."

"Sunset, who is telling you these awful things?" Princess Celestia took a step toward her Faithful Student, and Sunset took one away from the sun goddess' advancing shadow. Instead of looking spurned, Princess Celestia's eyes flooded with just a trickle of worry clouded with a whole storm of confusion.

"Actions speak louder than words, Princess. You told me that. I wonder if it's really true. 'Cause you sure think that your shadow is big enough to live in based on what you show."

"Sunny— "

"Don't call me that anymore! You're not my grandmother!" Sunset shrieked. She turned away and began to storm back towards the castle. As she went away from the garden grounds, a stray wave of Sunset's magic rippled across her coat and down to her hooves. As she galloped faster and faster, the black jacket she always liked to wear flowing in the wind.

Princess Celestia looked around the hedge maze pavilion and sighed, brushing a few ashes on the ground with her wingtips, pushing them under a topiary wall until everything looked clean again. Another lesson went wrong, and all because of another one of Sunset Shimmer's tantrums. There was an awful routine to the filly's lashing out, and this was nowhere near the ugliest. Disobedience and moodiness were the hallmarks of adolescence, and there was little else that the princess could think of that would cause such issues — especially when they clearly lay within Sunset Shimmer's own heart. The princess had never had a pre-teen for a student before, since before Sunset the youngest pony who was fit for the picking of a Faithful Student's role was usually fourteen to start with.

At last, Princess Celestia tutted and then quietly began to clean everything up again. In ten minutes it looked as if nothing had happened and she began her flight back to the castle.


...


At dinner, they had their worst fight yet, and both of them trotted away thinking that they were right.





Sunset Shimmer was sitting alone when Princess Celestia found her, which was exactly as expected. The dining area where Sunset Shimmer took all her meals was not exclusive to the Faithful Student, but simply a tidy little area that was one of many. The decor of a long table and identical, refined chairs of the same colors decorating the castle were spread with a large tablecloth adorned with various sun sigils identical to Celestia’s cutie mark. It was an area where castle servants took their meals. Since Princess Celestia could never justify isolating her Faithful Students or spoiling them so thoroughly with their own dining room, she had taken to having them combine their routines with castle staff centuries ago, at least where it was possible.

When Sunset saw Princess Celestia approach, she tensed up oddly, her posture stiffening proudly in a sudden jolt. That single scrap of evident pride was enough to make Celestia want to sigh already. Why must this one prove to be a firecracker of all the worst kinds of temperament? And what was it that caused Sunset to behave so darn oddly?

At least the broccoli that Sunset Shimmer was stabbing so harshly with her fork would be relieved.

“Good evening, my Faithful Student,” Princess Celestia said kindly as she sat down across from the young unicorn.

The servant’s chair groaning under the immense weight of the princess filled the room where Sunset’s response should have.

Sunset’s fork skidded across her plate, and she glared down at the remainder of the steamed carrots and mashed potatoes left there. They both knew that for Princess Celestia to dine outside of her usual roulette of locations — the gardens, her own dining quarters, one of the castle’s balconies, the formal feasting hall, among others during a ballroom celebration — was unprecedented.

At least, it was only unprecedented when Sunset Shimmer was behaving. The princess was quite adamant that whenever her Faithful Student did something just a smidge less than stellar, it was a time for a one-on-one talk. To express displeasure towards Sunset’s actions in front of other ponies was… deeply inconsiderate. One-on-one conversations and taking time together in these situations were the perfect way for Sunset to display her full range of temper without upsetting the staff — or embarrassing Celestia.

She had already received enough complaints and worried whisperings from her employees regarding smashed trinkets hurled by a temperamental little unicorn or the violent displays of pyromancy she used to weld her doors shut. Having to explain to the housekeepers and repair-ponies that she was already on the eighth replacement door was more bearable than letting any of her other ponies know that their ever-sweet Princess Celestia could raise her voice.

“You didn’t bring anything to eat,” Sunset Shimmer said eventually, staring at the empty air where a plate would have been.

Princess Celestia responded by smiling down more brightly upon her pupil, and folding her forehooves ever more primly upon the table. “I wasn’t hungry, little one.”

“I’m thirteen, Your Highness. That’s not exactly little anymore,” came the resentful, half-mumbled reply.

“All my ponies are bit ‘little’ compared to me, don’t you think?” Princess Celestia said instead, leaning forward slightly. It was the best she could do to spin Sunset’s ever-unwanted attitude into something positive.

Huffing, Sunset faltered in aiming her telekinesis at one, especially small carrot slice. The following screech that the fork made against the plate made them both wince.

“What have I told you about table manners before?” Celestia tutted. “My goodness, are you abusing a salad fork for your dinner? Didn’t we talk about these things before, hm?”

Sunset’s fork fell from her magic and clattered onto her plate. “Stop it.”

Those two words coming out through clenched teeth barely resonated above the sound of the abuse of Celestia’s poor silverware, but the princess drew back. She blinked multiple times, obviously momentarily stunned before resting a hoof on her chest. That single gesture reset her composure in a nearly mechanical manner.

“Sunny, we need to talk, and we need to do it now. Especially if you think that you can talk to your teacher that way. Good heavens, all you’ve been doing is quarreling with me. How do you think other ponies would feel if they knew you treated me this way?”

“It’s not like I ever see anypony else,” Sunset pouted, ducking her eyes away from the princess. The black eyeshadow she wore over them made it seem like they were being swallowed by darkness — it was exactly the kind of cosmetic choice that made Celestia wonder why anypony would wish to look so grouchy and unfriendly.

“And with that negative attitude, do you ever think about why? If you focused more on completing your assignments as I gave them and treating everypony with the kindness they deserve—”

Sunset’s jaw clenched visibly. Loudly, even.

This time, Princess Celestia actually sighed. “Sunny, don’t grind your teeth, it’s bad—”

“Everything I do is bad, isn’t it?”

Tutting, Celestia shook her head. The gesture made her mane swirl and wave so that the bright, soft rainbow made Sunset Shimmer look that much more diminutive in Celestia’s wake. The chair groaned under her again.

“No, that has never been the case, my Faithful Student. You’ve done many very nice things.”

An odd, half-sniffling, half-moody sighing sound exited Sunset’s dramatically opened mouth. The gesture was painfully foalish to the princess. “Yeah? Like what, Your Highness?”

When Celestia saw that Sunset was moving her magic to pick up her fork again — likely to tap on her plate with unneeded impatience, as the little tween often did — the princess had to move quickly. She placed a hoof firmly on the fork, swiftly keeping Sunset from getting a grip on it before sliding it over to the side of the table she occupied.

“Well…” Princess Celestia began, folding her forehooves over the fork for good measure.

She kept her expression perfectly polite as Sunset bit back a scowl that was just so, so easily detected.

“See!” Sunset shrieked to nopony, an adolescent crack corrupting her outburst into something that sounded too pained to come from such a young filly. “I knew it! I knew it! I absolutely knew it! You always loved Cadance more—”

“Volume, Sunset Shimmer,” interrupted Princess Celestia with a chilly whisper.

Sunset Shimmer froze, eyes wide and fixed on her teacher’s unfaltering demure expression. She sank back into her chair with a slack thump that was far more befitting of a doll than a growing filly.

Her expression didn’t falter — making it the perfect chance to get a few words in.

“I’ve never wanted to fight with you. I can’t imagine a pony alive that does, my Faithful Student. But the reality is that you have an itty-bitty tendency to be impolite, unkind, and a very immodest streak. These are things that will pass with time, but I can’t foresee it happening until you have mastered a very important lesson.”

Why were Sunset’s withers shaking?

“Do you remember what the lesson is?”

There was that crooked, sloppy way Sunset tightened her jaw again. “N-no, ma’am.”

“I think it was one of the most important lessons I ever had for you. Do you remember when you were eleven, and you had, ah, a magical outburst for sending a Mother’s Day card to your grandmother? And we had to have a little talk about why you couldn’t give me those — about what I am bound by law to be to you and all my Faithful Students of the past? Why I was rightly confused when you gave me that card?"

Anger bled from Sunset’s face, twisting it into something vaguely forlorn. She lowered her ears and nibbled at her forehoof, unable to meet Celestia’s eyes. Her own cyan eyes seemed damp in the candlelight.

“Yes, Princess,” mumbled the little unicorn.

“Good,” Celestia continued with a gentle breath of relief. “Then you remember I had to tell you to swallow your heart, too. I think that’s a lesson that we’re going to need you to be revisiting more often. Taking out your angst over adolescence on me is not what I deserve, and I can see plainly that your emotions have started to lead you somewhere dark and lonely. Pride is a very dangerous thing, and I’ve never seen anything worse grip any creature’s heart. Please listen to me when I say that I don’t want it to grip yours too.”

Princess Celestia shot her student a measured, worried look, pleading for Sunset to look at her and see how worried her teacher was. She didn’t even bother to scold Sunset for biting at her forehoof, like she normally would.

With an uncharacteristic shyness, Sunset brushed a few locks of her mane away and raised her gaze. Her stare fell somewhere around Celestia’s neck.

Celestia’s thoughts were fretful — would Sunset see the light of benevolence that she was trying to shine for her? Would she hear even the most teenage, attitude-drenched half-apology she was owed?

“I wish you would let me feel loved,” Sunset said instead.

“I… I beg your pardon?” Celestia couldn’t will her mouth to close after the little gasp of those three words came out.

“Don’t look so surprised!” Sunset snapped, waving her forehooves in sudden, angry flaps. “Everypony else my age has friends and fun! All I have is you and you’re a freaking nag!”

Two, large white wings flared with a mix of shock and wound-tight anger on pure reflex. Three seconds ticked on by before Princess Celestia realized that they were her own. “Never in all my years d-did I think one of my own Faithful Students could d-dare say anything so hurtful…”

“YOU DON’T EVEN CRY WHEN I YELL AT YOU!” Sunset wailed, standing up and leaping away from her chair. Her jacket flared with the angry little jump. “NOPONY EVEN BELIEVES YOU CAN!”

“Monster!” Sunset screeched; her voice was hoarse with oncoming tears. “No matter all the things you say, even I can cry! You can’t even really yell at me! Why can’t you do it, huh?! Why can’t you just admit that you hate me? That you wanna see me gone?”

“Oh Sunset,” Celestia murmured, completely aghast in tone and expression, “why would you ever say such a thing? I would never wish harm to come to you or anypony that I care about.”

“You don’t care about me at all!” Sunset jumped up and let her forehooves fall upon Celestia’s prized marble floor with a hard stamp, causing the latter to flinch. “Ever since I was nine you’ve… you’ve made me feel like a gods-damned tissue!”

“Please,” Celestia pleaded, folding her wings neatly, taking care to reach no hoof outward. Sunset’s tantrums had resulted in more than just surges of emotions in the past — and Celestia had gotten more than just burns to her emotional state. “Please don’t do this to me again. What is it that you want from me? Surely there is something I could give you? Do you want more extra credit assignments — heavens know you love those. What about another arcade pass? More concert tickets? How about extra new clothes the next time the guards supervise one of your shopping trips? You can have any gift—”

“Just throw me away already!” screamed Sunset with all the rage her tiny body could muster. Hot, angry tears were spilling down her face at last and her makeup was falling with it, in villainous, smudged waterfalls of black that streaked down her face.

“I will do no such thing to anypony, most certainly not a filly under my care—”

“But you don’t care about me at all!” Sunset shrilled again, stomping one hoof as loud as she could. “You hate me and you said it yourself: I could graduate when I’m thirty and I don’t care about what your stupid Faithful Student contract with grandmother said! I won’t ever let you keep me that long! I don’t care if you’re a goddess, I hate you!”

Genuine pain wove through Celestia’s expression, and it took too much of her might to swallow it down, to shove her heart back down where it belonged. “I-I’ve never hated you, little one. That’s wrong—”

“OF COURSE!” came Sunset’s next ear-piercing shout, one that continued even after Celestia cast a noise-suppressing spell. “I’m still the one that’s always wrong! It’s never you! It should be you forever and ever! You make me feel like a crazy pony and one day I hope I never ever see you again!”

“Sunset, you don’t mean that—”

“YES I DO!”

Swallowing, Celestia’s next words came out soft and smooth compared to Sunset’s broken screams. “You can’t mean that—”

“I do, I do, I do!” wailed Sunset, a sob between each reiteration. At last, cyan light was starting to swirl messily upon her horn, whether the little filly realized it or not. “I wish that you were wrong like everypony else! I wish you weren’t mean and cold and perfect! You kn-kn-now what, Princess?”

“What?” Celestia whispered, fearful, and chilly. “What more hurtful things could you have to say to me?”

“When I first hugged y-you, I thought you were cold then t-too!” Sunset sniffled harshly, wiping at her messy muzzle with her sleeve. “And you didn’t even cry with me when we got the letter that grandmother had to move into an old pony home!”

“I gave you all the condolences I could—”

“PONIES GO TO DIE IN THOSE HOMES!” came Sunset’s wailing interruption, and Celestia’s posture stiffened when a plate hanging on the wall started to shake. All of Sunset’s stomping was bound to attract some attention sooner or later, even if nopony heard anything. This was still a general servant’s room. "You don't get to die, so you wouldn't know what it f-feels like!"

“Sunny, if you want to visit your grandmother again, we can have that arranged. Why don’t we go to another room?” Celestia kept her words phrased as a question, but Sunset Shimmer should know by now that there was no question, and certainly no option to refuse, those words.

“I wish grandmother was a goddess and you weren’t!” blurted Sunset furiously. "You should be a pony like the rest of us instead of an everlasting Alicorn! My grandmother shoulda been the born-special one 'cause she deserved it and you don't! See, how do you like being told that now? Huh? You don't like it when somepony tells you that you shouldn't deserve things! Why do you do it to me?"

“No,” Princess Celestia whispered forcefully, inhaling sharply, “you don’t mean that at all. Nopony would. Before you say anything else you regret, we need to go to another room. Now.”

“Nu-uh,” Sunset insisted stubbornly, bringing her forehooves down in another stomp. “I mean it; I mean it so much, Your Highness. I mean this more than lessons and birthdays and—”

“You don’t know the meaning of the manipulative heresy you wish upon me, not fully.”

“O-one day,” Sunset hissed, seething as her horn brightened with an uncontrolled bud of magic, “I hope you know what it feels like to lose somepony. To have somepony you love never ever be there again. ‘Cause I can look in your dumb blank eyes and see that you have no idea what I’m talking about! You know nothing about what I feel like, or what it’s like to lose others and feel alone or have everypony h-hate you so, s-so, so m-much like you make everypony hate me — BECAUSE YOU HAVE NEVER HAD TO LOSE ANYPONY BEFORE! I HOPE YOU LOSE EVERYPONY!”

“Oh heavens, no!” gasped Princess Celestia. “Stop it! Stop it at once, Sunset Helia Shimmer! You have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about!”

“I HOPE EVERYPONY AND FRIEND YOU EVER HAD LEAVES YOU AND HATES YOU AND TELLS YOU THAT YOU’RE MEAN AND CRAZY TOO!”

“You want to see me yell?” Celestia said, voice stony and level. “Well, I’ll give you no such pleasure. But all you need to know is that after tonight, I don’t think you’re going to need a return ticket the next time you go on an airship ride to Tall Tale, and you certainly won’t be needing any of my guards to accompany you.”

Pausing, Sunset gave Celestia a look that was just so stuck between blank and absolutely incredulous. It was frozen in the way one would expect as if — heavens forbid and banish the thought — somepony had struck Sunset Shimmer of Tall Tale.

“Maybe if you’d ever lost somepony, you’d know how to love them!” was Sunset Shimmer’s last caterwaul before she scrubbed a foreleg at her tear-stained face again and ripped the door open with a burst of cyan sparks.

All that left was Princess Celestia to stand and smell the smokey residue of Sunset Shimmer’s magic, her barrel tight with heaving breaths she would show nopony and all the stories she would never tell.


...




Dear Sunset,

I have allowed you your space tonight after your two outbursts. This amount is certainly unheard of from you, and I am going to need you to start doing better in the future. Even if this unstructured solitude is not an incentive that I would normally permit, I will allow it this once, provided you show signs that you have used it properly. My office will be open for you to slide any apology letters and lines under the door at least two hours later than usual, and if you wish to rehearse something tomorrow morning, I shall accept that too. We could even discuss making it worthy of bonus points for your manners class. I understand that you are frustrated with your studies and the speed of your progress. Acting out is no way to express this, nor is withdrawing from the open hooves of other ponies a proper way to cope. You're are biting my hoof at this point, and should not be surprised when I find that unmannerly and unacceptable.

After tomorrow, I would like to see you start to open up and begin to focus less on yourself. Though I say this gently, I do not ask this. When it comes to your behavior, I am no longer asking for kindness. Never before have I met anypony who dared think that kindness was optional, and I see that in order for you to learn properly, adjustments will have to be made. One of those is quite obvious — you think that other ponies will listen to you without you learning to listen to them and respect your elders. When adults tell you to do things — whether that is me or the castle staff — you cannot be questioning them or speaking out. Shocking, bitter things spoil other ponies' days and have no place in your lessons or my castle. Your worry will fade as you communicate more openly, and I promise I will be more open to listening to your venting if you practice kindness and obedience more. Your pride will be able to transform into something healthier, and all your negativity will be cleared if you fling those worrying questions from your mind. I see how much they interrupt your learning.

I will not allow a Faithful Student to have behavior that is so destructive. You are in clear need of friends, and I don't want you to be crumpling this as soon as you read this line. I do not assign you too much work that you can't make friends, Sunset Helia Shimmer. I assign you the same workload that I would my other Faithful Students at your level, and my lessons are age-blind. My curriculum is well-appreciated by all who know of it, and in all the time I have maintained Faithful Students, there has never been any unicorn who couldn't learn from it. You should be no different. If this kind of antisocial behavior keeps up, I know that you know the conditions of your studies is not wholly unknown to you. If I find that for any reason you are an unsatisfactory pupil, your Faithful Studenthood contract may be discontinued at any time. This was discussed with your grandmother when she signed my papers regarding your transfer from my School of Gifted Unicorns to a Faithful Student.

I will spell things out for you here and now, as simply as they must be: you are going to begin to make friends. I am not going to discontinue your studies, but they will not resume until you have made at least one friend. If needed, I will work the same social program I use for my unicorns at my school on you — you will be assigned a group of three other unicorns as friends. While this works best with the traditional grade-level system, I'm afraid we would have to go down drastically in order to consider your age above your skills to encourage appropriate socialization. These friends will be as mandatory as your homework assignments, and I'll be hearing absolutely nothing about how much you dislike them. Ever since she has gotten here, I have received nothing but ill reports about how you have treated Princess Cadance. You will not bully these ponies, or I absolutely will terminate your Studenthood contract — any breach in what is an appropriate relationship count towards the discontinuation of your studies. Whether that relationship is with me — as we have unfortunately had to discuss in the past — or towards anypony else, like my staff or your peers.

(Yes, you do have peers. No matter how much you refuse to acknowledge them.)

If you cannot make friends appropriately, I will end my lenience with you. And I will be deeply sorry to see all your potential to leave with you. Let tomorrow bring an optimistic, kind, and generous Faithful Student to await my morning dictation. I highly suggest making amends with Princess Cadance when this project has become something you're more used to. Do you think I haven't seen you two talking at the past two Summer Celebrations? She is somepony who would have made a great friend if you were not so wicked towards her. She may be older than you, but she is gentle and good at telling jokes. You two would have a hard time not getting along if you had put more effort into not yelling about her having both a horn and wings or being so snide. All of those things are highly unbecoming of the young lady that you are.

By dawn, I do think you will reconsider the harsh words that you spoke to me. I may have forgiven you for them, but they were unnecessary, and I expect you to recognize this too. I know that you are a very smart young mare — but the extent of focus you've devoted to your studying is unnatural. There is more to life than the mastery of magical arts and the solitary state you've withdrawn to. Since you arrived from Tall Tale, I have seen the light inside you die down until I was faced with the embers you are today. That was very surprising for me to see since I can't understand where that light would have gone. I see that you enjoy your studies, but power is not something you should be seeking.

Your astronomy books no doubt put great focus on their illustrations of the sun — some for the sake of style, though more likely to flatter me — but somepony long ago once told me that all the stars were just suns far away. Ponies have managed to make telescopes that can see very far away, but none that have been able to tell if this is true. I am inclined to doubt this, since it feels quite ill of destiny. We would not be alone in this world if that were true, and I need you to understand that what I just showed you is healthy, realistic, normal skepticism. What you are is rude towards other ponies' kindness, which is not appreciated.

However, let us pretend for the sake of this letter that the stars-as-suns (my, how inappropriate it feels to make that plural) is true. I know you want to be the sun and light all that is around you. Nopony is the sun. Not even I am truly like that, and I cannot bring myself to think of myself so highly. You are not the sun, and contrary to how I may be styled neither am I. All of us are different ways to light the world, Sunnybun, and you are among my many perfect subjects — all of you are my little candles. I know that you'll learn this lesson too, and accept your destiny.

Your Teacher,

Princess Celestia




...


Princess Celestia stood outside the same room that a young Twilight Sparkle would eventually call her own. She was a couple of minutes early but wanted to see if Sunset would try to make an offer to reconcile before ushering her off to breakfast. Only then would she consider switching their conversations to social concerns instead of magical matters. It would be the perfect way to ease Sunset Shimmer into her new routine, one that would seek to change her from a hellion to a heavens-sent beacon of benevolence.

A moment passed and she still waited. Sunset was most likely applying the black cosmetics she liked to wear and would be out shortly. There were days when Sunset Shimmer hadn't worn her black-on-black ensembles at all. Those days were long-gone, each packed away into the memory of Princess Celestia, who could still recall Sunset as a fresh-faced nine-year-old. What on earth had happened to that filly? Where had her little candle, her tiniest ray of sunshine gone? Why had the Sunset Shimmer that Princess Celestia wanted slipped away from her life? The very Sunset Shimmer she would have been destined to need?

Celestia sighed and rubbed her eyes with a forehoof, taking another sip of coffee from her mug. The color was of some plain color between slate gray and purple that had reminded her of twilight skies.

Her gilded shoe knocked upon the door. Once. Twice.

When no reply was given she promptly pushed the door open with her hoof, and found it gave away easily.

The letter she slipped under Sunset's door last night was still there, but it was kicked aside slightly and torn open angrily. Had Sunset exited her room at some point in the night? Princess Celestia sure thought so; she had left the door to Sunset's room in the Faithful Student chambers unlocked. This was both to foster Sunset's openness to delivering her apology — which she had not done last night — and because Sunset Shimmer was of the age where the princess no longer worried about having to keep her door locked when she slept.

She looked in Sunset's bed, pulling away the covers like a young foal might rip off a bandage. The only color beneath the pale blue sheets was the soft gray of shadows from the bed's canopy. Each was cast in all shades upon a row of sloppily bunched up pillows.

"Sunnybun?"





"Twilight, no! The fate of Equestria depends on you being able to defeat—"

The words of Princess Cadance were cut short. It was just as a young Twilight reached out and grabbed the cardboard airship from the shaky grasp of Cadance's magic, yanking the passenger out of the cardboard container-turned-afternoon-art-project. The little filly collapsed onto the checkered picnic blanket, clutching her doll to her chest in a crushing hug.

"No, no, no!" she squeaked as much as her little lungs would allow. "Smarty's not evil! She has to be the hero! Cady, she needs to win! Please-please-please don't let me loose Miss Smarty Pants!"

Cadance blinked her lilac eyes. She was pondering what to do and tugging at her bright, girly blue bow. Cadance pulled it into place as if readjusting her mane could improve her creative thinking. "Twily, I thought you wanted to be the hero—"

"No, I'm not brave enough to face that," Twilight whispered. The little filly pulled Smarty Pants closer to her chest. In the next instant, she was waving a hoof in the direction of the lunchbox-sized construction that Cadance had placed her doll in. Twilight's tiny forehoof trembled with fear as her foalsitter's gaze followed the gesture to its source.

"What's wrong with the ship?" Cadance asked. "It looks just like the one you saw with Shiny and me yesterday."

"Nu-uh," Twilight pouted, "The one I saw with you and BBBFF. wasn't like that one... it's so scary!"

To remedy her confusion, Cadance withdrew the only cure-all she had from the picnic basket next to her — a large bag of sour keys. While she listened to Twilight Sparkle's woes, she began to nibble one of the candies in deepening thought.

She could handle Twilight Sparkle quite well, being the only filly she foal-sat — and thus her favorite. Sure, the little filly was gifted, but her social abilities were non-existent due to how sheltered the little one was. Twilight's parents hadn't been able to keep her in any grade above magic kindergarten, since she took to all the materials too quickly, but the actual social requirements and routines required to do well had let the little lavender filly to have one too many autistic burn-outs, panic attacks, and tantrums. There wasn't a single friend that Twilight Sparkle had made, and Twilight Velvet and Nightlight were right to pull their poor, frightened, unable-to-go-on daughter into homeschooling. Why, with all the inflexibility Twilight craved, she was practically made for such an upbringing.

Cadance was an excellent foalsitter when she was needed. Under her care and minimum tutelage, Twilight Sparkle had only been the cause of three out of the five arcane fires in the family's kitchen that occurred in the past year. Twilight's parents could rest easy knowing their daughter had something like a friend outside of the family.

She was the all-powerful sitter of foals, and of course, knew exactly what to do.

Cadance's life was together.

By the tenth sour key, she realized she had no idea what to do.

"Uh, Twilight?"

Twilight lowered Smarty Pants from her face when she realized Cadance wasn't going to be absorbing the sour keys at such an ungodly speed any longer.

"Yes, Cady?" The little filly gave her foal-sitter the most innocent of blinks.

"Just what is so horrific about the ship I made you?"

Twilight's somber gaze met Cadance's confused one. She leaned closer and whispered carefully, with all the seriousness and terror the precocious filly could muster: "It's not to scale."

Cadance blinked and eyed the bag of sour keys once more. Twilight gulped when she noticed this vaguely exasperated gesture.

"Yep," her foalsitter chirped, "Makes sense. Not to scale. Very scary stuff. Got it."

"We could always buy a model one from the fancy stores. Shiny had one, but it broke." Twilight looked shifty at the last statement but chose to continue when Cadance didn't react. "I've been saving up some bits for new books but..."

"But what?" Cadance asked excitedly.

"I have a birthday coming up," Twilight finished with an adorable grin. The warm May winds sweeping through the park and stirring her neat, dark bangs.

Cadance knew foals. She knew when they wanted something. And she would have bet a wing and a foreleg that if she caved into Twilight's expectant purple gaze that she would be taking the first step into turning this little tyke into a little tyrant.

She already had a birthday present picked out for Twilight Sparkle anyway...

"That's nice, Twily. I'll be sure to remember that, but right now I don't have the bits—"

"Shiny says you have an entire store of bits for emergencies." Twilight's smile widens into a bright little grin, and her eyes are as shiny as the gold coins she is so clearly envisioning. "Doesn't your super-rich auntie still let you have an allowance?"

"Yes," Cadance admitted, trying not to crumple her candy bag. "But it's for emergencies—"

"Shiny also says you consider owning under twenty-six pairs of leg warmers a crisis."

Cadance nodded vigorously, letting her pulled-up mane bob with the gesture. "Could you imagine the horror, Twily? A world without leg warmers is like a world without sunshine."

"...Everypony would die?" Twilight skeptically offered.

"Exactly!"

It was Twilight's turn to blink. Just as she was about to reply she heard two voices coming closer, her small ears pricked to find their source. Cadance too looked over to the two figures approaching them. When she caught sight of who they were, she smiled at Shining Armor and the princess. "Hi, Shiny! Hi Auntie!"

Princess Celestia nodded ever-so-slightly as she approached. Meanwhile, Shining Armor started chatting about something with Cadance, who rose from the blanket her and Twilight had been playing on after waving to the filly with the promise to come back soon. Twilight nodded very carefully and nervously tilted her head up to look at the goddess in front of her. Princess Celestia didn't notice the little filly at first, and her shadow swallowed Twilight Sparkle, Smarty Pants, and their picnic blanket.

"Good afternoon, Princess Celestia," Twilight offered, bobbing her head in a slight bow.

Little Twilight Sparkle had never been this close to a divine creature. If she didn't know better she'd say that the princess looked a bit sad... the kind of sadness somepony might have when they forgot their favorite toy at home, and would only get to see it when they returned. It was the kind that stayed bottled up in somepony's eyes while the rest of them stayed sunshine-bright. On Twilight Sparkle's first day (and attempt) at public academy magic kindergarten, there was a little filly who had those kinds of eyes, and all because she forgot her security blanket.

And then, Twilight saw the majestic princess nod, and return her smiling gesture. Twilight couldn't imagine a mare so beautiful and kind upset with anypony or anything good, so she gave the goddess the biggest grin she had.

"What is your name, little one?" The question was not as special as Twilight Sparkle may have wished. It was to be asked of any of Princess Celestia's subjects. Anypony at all could be a 'little one' in comparison to this swan of a mare who ruled over tadpoles.

"T-Twilight. Twilight Sparkle," was all she could stammer out.

The filly had no idea that it was common for Equestrian ponies to swallow their tongues and lose track of their words in front of this mare. But Twilight Sparkle had no idea, and instead tried to duck her head as humbly as possible. That way, she could hide her blush. She had meant to say that she was Twilight Sparkle of Canterlot, daughter of Twilight Velvet, and Nightlight — it was the proper way for anypony to introduce themselves.

The faintest, vaguest recognition was a-flicker in the rose eyes of the princess, which was a rare sight. "And you are Shining Armor's little sister?"

"Yep! He's really good at magic — have you seen his shield spells, Miss Your Princess-ness?"

Much to the filly's surprise, Princess Celestia laughed softly — so softly that the sound would have gone unnoticed if it weren't for the slight change in her features. However, Twilight Sparkle was too young and unaware to detect the hollow tones within. The very ones that hinted at unspoken grief held by the princess.

"Yes, I have seen your brother's shield spells. They are certainly something for his comrades to be proud of."

"Yes, of course! He works super hard on them, Your Most Royal Majesty!"

Princess Celestia nodded in response, keeping herself serene as ever in her half-attentive state. Her attention briefly wavering as she watched some of her subjects strolling in the distance, with Cadance, and Shining Armor among them. Her expression remained flawlessly calm despite her heavy heart, and she looked over at the young colt. If he weren't already a guard in training... would he have what it takes to be a Faithful Student?

No... he isn't bad, exactly. Shining Armor is humble, generous, and kind... but something's missing...

The princess held back a sigh that she wouldn't risk anypony hearing. Celestia turned back to devote her attention to the little blank-flanked filly who had been talking to her.

...Why is something always missing?

"What about you, Twilight Sparkle?" Celestia asked, centuries of experience as a ruler steering her thoughts in the direction of the idle chat. "Is there anything that you work hard at?"

...What is it about them that never makes them enough?

Twilight dragged her hoof through the grass. Then she lowered her eyes and remembered what her parents had told her about boasting and how unhappy it made them. Twilight certainly didn't want to make her parents unhappy and trying to lift their perfectly ordinary family above others in the community was a nasty thing to do — especially when talking to a divine princess.

"No, not really. It's not that I'm lazy or anything, Shiny just works so much harder in comparison! He's going to make a great guard in the future, Princess!"

"I'm sure he will," Celestia responded easily, a plain smile gracing her features.

She recalled her conversation with the easy-going, talkative youth. Her niece had been bringing up the brother in conversation much more, and the princess decided she had to meet this young cadet in a setting where she could get an idea of his character outside of his armor — to see the stallion he might become. A moment later, Cadance's voice called her away and she dipped her head in a brief good-bye nod to Twilight Sparkle, not knowing that they would meet again when the filly's name had all but faded from her mind — because until that moment, that single nigh-fateful entrance exam, Princess Celestia would have had no reason to remember Twilight Sparkle.





Princess Celestia had received many unusual requests in her long life. The ponies of the Equestrian gentry were always where the most 'unusual' requests would originate from. No matter what, she could always count on there being one rather eccentric pony whose petitions could only be met with a polite smile, even kinder refusal, and the wave of her hoof so her meeting with the next petitioner could begin. She may give everypony her time, but she only ever had to listen. Sometimes, that was the most that ponies got, and they were too entranced by the sweetness and demurity she maintained in their conversations. With it, she could steer the most unpleasant of her subjects away with smiles on their faces, making them nigh-unaware of the pleasure they were taking in how she had refused them. Such was the blinding light of the sun goddess!

None of those mortals had ever broken her composure or caused her to stop in her tracks. The last rays of an Equestrian sunset were already bleeding from the walls and falling to shadows on the floor. This gave the whole gleaming hall of Canterlot Castle an air of mystery, of holding its breath, and a trance that she could not puzzle out.

Not a single Faithful Student had ever surprised her so. Every one of the little unicorns she had plucked from her school and stood in her shadow was a bundle of predictability. Never had one been able to so much as startle her—

At least not quite like this, she thought. Princess Celestia was glad that Twilight Sparkle could not see the momentary flicker of dismay across her face. That flicker was not for tiny Twilight Sparkle, and Princess Celestia did not wish to offend this latest little unicorn — her youngest-ever Faithful Student — and have to explain herself. She was only recalling the final deeds of the last unicorn to bear the title of Faithful Student and where her stubborn nature had led her, and how she had strayed from all the light that Princess Celestia had tried to offer her—

—for a mere reflection of a world.

The little filly that stood behind her, dramatically bathed in shadow cocked her head to the side. Twilight Sparkle blinked as the first swathes of moonlight began to overtake the many-windowed corridor. Outside, the night was just another dim shadow of what it could be. Such was every dusk that generations of Celestia's little ponies had known, her Faithful Students among them.

"Princess...?" Twilight Sparkle asked cautiously. Her voice lifts in a timid crack at the end as she stared at the ageless goddess that was her new teacher.

The light on the princess' horn died once the moon was visible in the sky, bringing forth only an imitation of what the night could be — the same kind that Princess Celestia had brought forth for over nine hundred years. She regained her composure immediately. After all, if this filly were to live in the castle Celestia would need to be able to speak to her gently as a teacher, even more gently than the image of a monarch she presented to her Equestrian subjects and their allies. She tried to think of the last time a student of hers had been so young and knew that Twilight Sparkle was still just shy of the usual age that unicorn foals were when they applied to her school. Twilight's parents had certainly put high expectations on the withers of their previously-homeschooled daughter. Twilight Velvet and Nightlight had told their princess-goddess all about how much the timid, autistic filly had to be pushed to even attempt the School for Gifted Unicorn's exam at the age of eight. Like many parents, they had even selected Twilight Sparkle's eventual degree on her guardian application to Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns when Twilight would be of age to move into the postsecondary part of the campus.

(That degree was currently null since the little filly was a Faithful Student, wholly separate in schooling. But it had been a completely unsurprising choice — library science was perfect for Twilight Sparkle, and Princess Celestia was certainly going to keep Twilight's parent's choice in mind.)

Then, Princess Celestia dismissed the distraction and replaced her uncertain expression with a soft smile and turned to look down at Twilight Sparkle.

With her darker coat, she almost blended into the shadows — especially one as big as Celestia's own. The princess had to conjure a simple werelight of gold aura as kind as she appeared, all to help her little student see in the dark halls. The shadows retreated but continued to dance upon both of their faces as the bobbing werelight mixed with the last meager light of the evening.

In seconds, Princess Celestia's weak night reigned in full.

"Yes, Twilight?" Celestia asked softly.

"Did I ask too much, Y-Your H-Highness? I-I know it's only my second-night h-here. It's j-just that when I was trying to finish unpacking my books I found this—" Twilight interrupted herself by levitating a hefty novel in front of her face like a shield, "—and... I'm sorry, Princess. You probably have something better to do a-and—"

"May I see your book, Twilight Sparkle?" Celestia asked, taking it upon herself to interrupt when it became clear the filly was struggling to explain herself. For Celestia, that wasn't of much concern — she had autistic Faithful Students in the past.

Twilight nodded sheepishly and passed her book to the Princess, who eyed the cover coolly while Twilight anticipated her reply. The filly was clearly stunned at how forward she had been. It was obvious to the princess where he student's thoughts were straying: that everypony knows that nopony bothers the princess and here she had just requested that—

"A Crinkle in Time?" Celestia questioned, trying to see the faded gold-leaf letters in the dark.

"You almost had it," Twilight whispered happily. "This is my favorite book, and Shiny used to read it to me all the time!"

"And you would like me to read it to you?"

"Yes," she admitted. Twilight looked at the floor.

To Princess Celestia, it was quite plain that Twilight Sparkle had thought she sounded so silly when she had first asked. Poor Twilight likely felt even sillier now that the princess was holding her book.

Celestia flipped over the book, glancing at the illustrations on the back. Like the letters on the front, they were faded as well and the book's summary was unreadable in the dimly lit hallway.

"Well, Twilight, I must admit that there is a problem here. Do you know what it is?"

Twilight studied the carpet very carefully.

"Do you think I can read this in the dark?"

Twilight looked up quickly, violet eyes wide with surprise. "Really, Princess? This isn't a joke? You're... okay with reading to me."

Celestia offered her student a small smile and then nodded down the hall. "You are my student, Twilight Sparkle. Getting to know you is important to me."

Twilight looked as if she was about to protest or question something — and Celestia was thankful when she didn't.


...


Celestia closed the door behind her carefully. She waited with her lips pursued in a dark room until even the echo of her hoofsteps had all but left her mind. A single word was taking up the mental space where the dying melody had been.

Different.

It was a word that had caused so much strife for Celestia. They — her and another dear to her heart — had been different from the tribes, ponies, and all form of mortal creatures. For it, Celestia and her companion had suffered terribly, and their various abuses were even deemed acceptable. Her companion... Celestia would think of her differently as time wore on; the one who she called her companion was her kin, and what broke them in the north broke their bond too. However, it was only when they came south again to the lands of four seasons and plenty did the tears really begin to show — and Celestia had not helped then, but she would give anything to go back and do so forever and again. The many different thoughts and behaviors would lead her kin to be shunned by her own nation and—

Celestia swallowed and the quick recollection of a prophecy vanished, one that still only hung as probably-true in her heart. She might need them later. Though, part of her wished that she might not, for the sake of Twilight Sparkle and her novels of vegetable gardens and missing fathers. She did not wish to have Twilight Sparkle as the student she must eventually gamble, who must be the destined Spark cast from the fire that was her teacher and into—

And still, part of her wished that words once dismissed as prattle could be true. This was, of course, only for the sake of some greater balance and the things and ponies swept up in it: broken hearts and missing kin. Princess Celestia hoped that 'different' wouldn't be wrong this time, that the thorns of that word would not show. That Twilight Sparkle would not wind up in stone. With a shaky breath as her prayer, she wanted Twilight Sparkle to never know the vices of power that could steer her to hurt others so that only one like Celestia could ever stand in her way. She prayed that Twilight Sparkle would not be beyond control at any point in her life under Celestia's sun, not when a prophecy rested solely upon her mortal withers.

And with the knowledge of after all these years, there would be no more tears to choke back lest those words are honestly true. Princess Celestia wished that Twilight Sparkle would not be different enough to be impossibly far away from any who hold her dear and that they might never have to strike out her name until she barely clung to memory.

She did not want Twilight Sparkle to be that kind of legend, the kind that left those who survived her having to say she was a story.

Celestia did not want Twilight Sparkle to be different — full stop — even though she had to be.

After all was done, Celestia locked the door, sealing it with a tap of her horn. She watched as the ripple of gold extended from her horn before she moved on to lighting the room. In no mood to light any proper lamps or risk a true fire, she lit her horn and a group of werelights, each bobbing like a school of fish. All of them were pale gold, like weak miniature suns, and swam in the air.

Or a sky full of the frailest stars. Celestia tried not to close her eyes and remember the filly who would create dozens of eccentric and unusual uses for blue lights like arcane fireflies — each had been infused with a magic light of Otherness that Celestia could not replicate. She was glad she could not produce that same, haunting quality just as much as she missed it. Instead, Princess Celestia drew her focus in the direction of the wall-to-ceiling bookshelves. Each was neatly packed tomes that any polymath of magical fields and skill would likely sell their souls for. They were not hidden away and rotting in some derelict cellar — at least not anymore — but the public had no access to them, nor would they ever. Even Twilight Sparkle would never get the chance to breathe on them. These books weren't Celestia's, not really. She was only keeping the most... interesting selections from the library of her old home, and as a result, these books had become hers and hers alone.

The mare who had originally worked out so much of their contents would despise Celestia if she knew this. Let Luna hate her more. That was Celestia's usual answer for herself. If it was destined, so be it. Luna had reason to stoke her own wrath at her so-called 'art' being in the hooves of Celestia, who had never had the heart or mind to see it the same as Luna had.

Very little in the books could be described as inherently forbidden, just advanced. Even for the time they had been published at, these books were boasting knowledge that had been made illegal, for it was brimming with all the secrets of old-and-forgotten civilizations and older gods — Alicorn gods. This meant that the age of the text written in them was not what was advanced, not when most of it had been authored in the post-Discord days by Luna's own hoof. Ponies still lived in rain, ruin, and huts in those days.

Carefully, Celestia levitated a book from the place where it had gathered dust for so long and began to flip through a few pages. All she could do was murmur a few wishes for her mind to be at its clearest so that she might have insight into all the enigmas that Luna had been able to weave. She bit her lip as she looked at all the scribbles and margin notes. She glanced at crossed-out paragraphs replaced with scrawled codes, pictographs, and mirror writing that spelled out half-tested theories and notes of cautious speculation and estimates. The sheer state of the marginalia reeked of madness and was twisted in on itself with paranoid hornwriting.

She remembered the mare who wrote them — she was the one Celestia could never forget. While she hadn't been some great, socially-accepted archmage or any renowned scholar, Luna's notes were sure to have merit for what Celestia so desperately needed. After all, her sister had made many observations and magical experiments of her own, though they had lacked the formality and some of the adherence to the stricter rules of magical study that Celestia favored. Of course, they were so beyond any mortal magic that Celestia had ever seen, even in the present age, which was precisely what made these tomes all the more fearful.

But if she could decode some of the things that her lost Luna had written...

Celestia drew a sharp breath when her coat came in contact with one of the werelights, warming her white coat briefly. Unpleasantly, even.

She laid the book down on the nearby, forlorn table without a word. Then, Princess Celestia located a small wooden end table overshadowed by the many bookshelves that towered over it. From a small drawer, she withdrew a blank notebook, an inkwell, and quills. Each was caked with numerous layers of dust thick enough to eat if Celestia were to do such a dreadful thing.

Her habit of biting her lip a certain way had never vanished after all these years, only lessened. It meant that she was worried about somepony.

Somepony very special, who at long last might have a chance to come home if Princess Celestia made all the right moves. If the prophecy could really be true.

Quill scratches were the only sound in the small library, filled with an incomplete collection of private tomes that the sun princess struggled to decode even a few lines of. She stared at the holes that marked missing words in entire sentences. Closing her eyes, she thought of the young Twilight Sparkle asleep in her bed, a few chapters of her favorite novel no doubt infecting her dreams while a single word haunted the princess: different.

Twilight Sparkle was different — as much as Celestia loathed to admit it — she had as much potential as any other student of Celestia's, maybe even a bit more if her cutie mark was to be taken into consideration. None of Celestia's previous curriculum would suffice for this Faithful Student, not if the prophecy that would soar beyond potential and cutie marks. She'd need to incorporate something more effective magic theory — an altered version of Luna's research would do nicely if she could make it compatible with her teaching methods and the intensity of the workload she had saddled her previous students with. Only now, there would be a sharpened goal. A destined purpose that made Celestia thirst for that completion more than any wicked journey.

This time, the title of Faithful Student would really mean something.


...


Celestia stood outside Twilight Sparkle's chamber. There was a hot mug of coffee adorned with a smiling sun grasped in her magic, along with a notebook of ideas for magic exercises and a textbook of standard magical theory, though unfortunately the latter would not prove to be as useful. It wasn't anything that could be found in a public academy — any pictures and a majority of other visuals had been reduced to make room for text meant for adult unicorns. It was the same theory she used on all Faithful Students, regardless of their age or ability, and now it would only be an instrument to standardize one-of-a-kind (courtesy of Luna's indirect ghost-writing) divine-authored education.

The princess had looked over the materials she had chosen late into the night, and it was not merely caffeine that buzzed with the songs of exhaustion she had to mask. In her head, she was not sure if any of these materials could suit an eight-year-old. Not when most of her Faithful Students were thirteen at their lowest — nine-year-old Sunset Shimmer being the only exception.

She took a short sip of her coffee, wishing she had added a little more cream. Bitterness in any form was bothersome, and like her emotions, she always had to mask it thoroughly. The image of a sun on it only smiled up at her in response. She smiled absently at the extremely foalish drawing. It may have been cheesy, but she still liked it.

Celestia reached out a forehoof and knocked again. The door was flung open and the coat of magenta magic over it faded and dissolved, revealing a little filly hugging a doll with bright, spotted pants and a clock to her chest. It must have been one of the many surprises from home that Twilight had packed away, for Princess Celestia had not seen it before. None of her other Faithful Students had been young enough to still have brought toys with them — at least, it was usually what Celestia would expect to be a phase that didn't last. Sunset Shimmer had craved maturity most unnaturally, and Twilight Sparkle was just so babyish in comparison.

"Did I sleep in?" Twilight Sparkle blinked up at her princess with an unbrushed mane and large, damp eyes. There was a whisper of worry corked in her young voice.

"You only slept in ten minutes, Twi—"

"T-Ten minutes...?" Twilight's eyes flashed with slowly dawning horror, as raw as it could be at her age. "How much did I miss? Are there any quizzes that I need to catch up on?"

"Nothing, Twilight—"

"Will I have to do extra credit assignments to make up for this?"

"You didn't miss anything—"

"I haven't even started my lessons and I'm already failing!"

"You aren't failing anything, Twilight Sparkle."

The little filly loosened the choking grip she had on her doll. "I'm not?"

"That's right. I came up here to offer you a simple reminder that the lessons were starting today. I imagine you'd want breakfast as well, and I'm not one to withhold pancakes from a little filly. The castle kitchen always has them on the first days — you do want them to get to know what food you like, don't you? They'll be making all your meals from now on."

Normally, the Faithful Students of Princess Celestia always jumped at the chance to eat a rich breakfast prepared by the staff at the kitchen, but Twilight Sparkle wrinkled up her muzzle instead. Celestia did not think it was because she had any distaste for the renowned chefs who worshipfully used their talents catered to the tastes of the sun goddess. Twilight Sparkle's parents had mailed a whole home-stapled booklet — divided into volumes, no less — about all the behaviors of Twilight Sparkle. They had been their daughter's only carers in life and never had Celestia been faced with having a filly with quite the hunger for order, desire for adult dictation, and specific environmental needs that Twilight Sparkle would have. She already needed a duo of royal guards to calm her meltdown when there hadn't been enough sticky-tabs to help sort her junior encyclopedias and Daring Do based on a filly-crafted decimal system.

"I'm not failing anything?" Twilight echoed with such palpable nervousness already sending her young legs into trembles.

"That is correct," Celestia repeated, adjusting the position of the notebook from last night, lest it fall to the ground and the papers within scatter onto the floor.

"Princess, if I'm not failing... how come you didn't tell me?"

Princess Celestia smiled kindly and suggested that they go find Twilight something to eat, her right eye twitching once, and only faintly.

Twilight Sparkle was going to be very different alright.





Twilight Sparkle’s hoof rapping at Princess Celestia’s door grew louder. The sound was a splinter in her latest migraine as she tore her eyes from the cramped scroll she had to preside over. The inky lines blurred as she shifted focus, the dull ache before her horn replacing the concern of shipping treaties between Equestria and Colthuacan. She trotted to the door, twisting its sleek golden handle with a press of her forehoof. Standing in the doorway, small and scrappy in the dim colors was the quivering shape of Twilight Sparkle.

The filly was sniveling and shivering in the hallways, no doubt because it was long past sundown. Celestia was incredulous at the sight. Her maids had told her that the filly’s room had been checked and that she was in bed with the lights out hours ago. For Twilight Sparkle to be up past her bedtime was to break the routine she kept more religiously than Celestia’s thaumaturges aided in Summer Sun Celebrations across Equestria.

“Twilight Sparkle,” Princess Celestia said, voice worried, “why aren’t you in bed?”

Ducking her eyes, Twilight held her head in the closest imitation of a solemn bow she could manage. She mumble-squeaked something in the stumbling tone expected of such a shy filly — one that the princess was struggling to learn to decipher. Her tail swished clumsily, covering her blessed cutie mark for a moment. That cutie mark was what Celestia needed to see every day, since it was the seal of perfection on a filly that was only otherwise remarkable in her capacity for her tabula rasa personality and devotion to all that a young mind would perceive as heroic.

“What was that, my Faithful Student?”

“Ican’tsleep!” Twilight stammered out, the words coming in a dutifully delivered, if jumbled burst.

Truly, that sense of duty was ever-remarkable; even Princess Celestia’s adult students of many decades took so much time to cultivate such pleasantly responsive temperaments.

“Why is that, Twilight? Did your night-light go out again?” Princess Celestia meant the question earnestly, but part of her knew that there was something amusing about the situation. If somepony had told her even three years ago that the next Faithful Student she picked would still need a night-light, she would have had quite the chortle.

“Y-yes,” Twilight said, shuddering so that her whole little body shook like she’d been left out in the cold. “It’s s-so scary, Princess!”

Celestia blinked. “I beg your pardon, Twilight. Is there something in your room?”

She almost wanted to ask if she should find some night shift member of the royal guard to go humor Twilight’s probably foalish worries. Not even three weeks into her time at the castle, and Twilight Sparkle had made color-coded crayon maps detailing the distant walk to Celestia’s many chambers throughout the day and sloppily scribbled faux biology papers on the things she felt lurked under her bed. The princess was already considering paying two particular guards extra for how much she’d sent them to accompany Twilight on such diversions.

It was truly so much more than Celestia was ever used to, not that she could say that. Managing such a young special needs filly and having to raise her famulus drake on the side until they could be trusted together had Celestia out of her depth. Usually, the few Faithful Students who had done the dragon egg entry test were pulled from her Gifted Unicorn school when they were not just of an age to have minimal supervision in famulus training, but had become used to it. Twilight Sparkle was no such case, and she still sucked on her forehoof according to the maid that was sent to rouse her for lessons each morning and help draw her baths.

“Kinda,” Twilight squeaked, doing a fidgety little tippy-hoof dance. “Please, Y-your Highness! You need to come quick!”

Princess Celestia nodded, keeping her expression unreadable. If Twilight Sparkle was this worried, it was likely more than her misplacing a quill or struggling to sort the subgenres of her textbooks by whatever the latest system was. Last time, it had been based on which ones had the most mentions of the Pre-Classical Era in their indexes. Princess Celestia had done her best to live the ‘fake it until you make it’ mantra while the filly had explained her struggles with the system.

“Come along, Twilight.” Princess Celestia lit her horn with a soft bud of gold and began the slow stroll down the hallway. “I’ll come with you, and we’ll find just what it is that scared you so.”

Perhaps a mouse had managed to get past the staff, or Philomena had played an unwelcome prank. She really had to sit that bird down and explain that she spent ‘too much’ time with Twilight not because she loved Twilight more, but because ‘Mena had to understand that Twilight was marked to be her Spark, her one and only shot. If Twilight Sparkle were not exactly as she was needed when the time came, the world would pay for… somepony’s mistakes. The jealousy of birds aside, one thing Philomena could understand was that Twilight Sparkle was a filly who needed her hoof held for more than just her age, and that she had so many of the signs that marked Celestia’s neurodivergent Faithful Students in the past, with a diagnosis to solidify things.

Eventually, Celestia tired of trying to coax poor, nervous Twilight back along the long path she came. Shadowy flights of stairs, wide empty corridors, and looming doorways had become immensely sinister to the little filly during the night. Without her purpose of seeking her goddess, it fell to the princess to will her Faithful Student along. With Twilight Sparkle placed high upon her back, she enveloped them both in the yellow glow of a teleportation spell.


…


The doors to Twilight Sparkle’s bedroom chamber had been left wide open. This, of course, could pose its own frustrations. Already, Princess Celestia felt the most distant echo of it creeping in the back of her thoughts. What if Twilight Sparkle had seen some pest, like a mouse or spider? Both of those things were best done away with, knowing what harm they could bring to helpless little fillies like Twilight.

Keeping her expression relaxed, Princess Celestia levitated Twilight down to the ground and placed her upon the floor delicately. “Now little one, why don’t you show me what has upset you so much, hm? When ponies tell you not to let the bedbugs bite, you know that this isn’t what they meant, right?”

“There are bedbugs?” Twilight yelped, jumping up so that her hooves touched the ground again in a fearful clatter. “Ohnonono, I didn’t know there were bed bugs t-too!”

Her student’s voice cracked so highly upon the last stammer that Princess Celestia was glad for Twilight’s social obliviousness.

Did her parents really never tell her that before? “Ah, it’s just a figure of speech, my Faithful Student.”

The filly’s frantic motions stopped immediately. She held in her breath, looking up at Celestia with puffed-up cheeks and wide, horribly confused eyes. “Figure of speech?”

“There are no bed bugs.”

“Then who is biting, Princess?” One purple ear twitched.

“Nothing and nopony will bite you, Twilight. I’m here to protect you, remember? Like your brother would.”

Twilight still stared up at Celestia blankly.

“It’s a joke, Twilight,” Princess Celestia said at last. In dealing with Twilight Sparkle, the phrase had become one of the more common ones in her arsenal.

“Ooooh?” Twilight cocked her head to the side. “Ha-hah?” she offered, unable to read her mentor’s face.

“Yes,” the princess said, “ha-hah. Bed bugs are funny. Perhaps tomorrow we can find a book on one if you do well in your lessons. Now, let’s go find what scared you so much. Do you think it’s still going to be in here?”

Celestia watched Twilight carefully. The filly was hanging on her every word more than usual, ears pricked forward and absorbed in the slightest movement of her teacher’s. Relief was starting to find its way into untying the knot that had been building up in Celestia’s chest.

Twilight’s stare was back to its usual shiny and button-blank watchfulness with so little fear left as she slipped into a passive listening state.

It was exactly what Celestia was wishing for, since if Twilight had started to insist that something was more of a ‘somepony’ then there would be much alarm to be raised. The castle had various areas that were sanctuaries protected with divine magic, most notably the rooms containing treasures, artifacts, and historical texts. The bedrooms of her and Twilight were the most warded rooms in the castle. Aside from them being impregnable, if an unwanted pony had managed to get in the castle, Celestia would do anything in her power to ensure they were eliminated. Her Faithful Students had not seen their lives threatened in centuries, and the princess was not about to see that record broken.

“Y-yes, of c-course! P-Please, come here, P-Princess Celestia!”

The princess allowed herself to passively heed the words of Twilight Sparkle, stepping into the bedroom after the filly. She flicked on the large overhead lamp, and heard the magic come to life before the room was bathed in the white glow of the glass-housed werelight. So little looked out of place. All the blankets were folded. Every scientific poster hung where it had to. Only one stray juice box stood out, for it hadn’t been thrown away. Otherwise, all Twilight’s textbooks were stacked and every bookshelf had its items replaced, save for the beginnings of a bookfort in one corner.

The room was oddly sterile for a filly in many ways, but that was what was to be expected of Twilight Sparkle. Everything about the minimal decorations that Twilight enjoyed was the exact opposite of when the room had belonged to Sunset Shimmer, who craved messy and unfortunate expressiveness. Thankfully, the arrival of such a sweet little child such as Twilight Sparkle had finally given the princess a reason to unlock the old tomb of a bedroom, gut it of any sign of the previous residency, order a remodel, and ensure a new resident was at home.

Giving one last sweep of her gaze around the room, Celestia at last found something out of order. Right next to Twilight’s wide toy chest — one of the few signs that she was a child — was the door to the small parlor and study room next door. That was ajar, when Princess Celestia knew that it was supposed to be closed each night, lest Twilight creep in and start flying through her bonus point assignments when she was meant to be sleeping.

From the doorway to that smaller area, Princess Celestia heard the cool sound of the night’s wind. She looked to Twilight, who was clutching the long leg of her princess and hiding from the sound.

“Did you leave the window open?”

Twilight nodded, whimpering.

Celestia tutted, absentmindedly patting the filly on the head. Of course, leaving the window open in the one room that had it would frighten her. The night was filled with all kinds of scary sounds, and being so high off the ground would mean Twilight was subjected to all kinds of horrid high-speed winds. She probably heard a strong gust of wind that woke her up.

“Come now, let’s go close it together. I could use your magic to help me.”

She really didn’t, not when Twilight Sparkle’s magic was a bonfire compared to the crumb of other unicorns her age — because that bonfire was not something that could rival the galaxy of power Celestia had. She just didn’t want Twilight to feel excluded.

“O-okay, t-thank you, Princess Celestia.”

With that said, Princess Celestia let the little filly scuttle after her, and they entered the parlor together. Twilight Sparkle’s desk area had indeed been disturbed somewhat — a mug of quills had their contents knocked over by the wind. Two long silk curtains trimmed with golden lace designs fluttered in the chilly wind that was pouring in, dancing an eerie, ghostly duet.

Had Celestia’s long, rear legs been her neck, then Twilight Sparkle would have been strangling her. Such was the might she was using to squeeze at her teacher’s form. Turning around, Celestia stared at the little purple filly so determined to remain and cower in her shadow.

“Now that we’re here, I would like you to show me what it is that had you running to my office at such an intolerable hour. It’s almost nine-thirty, you know. That means little fillies like you should be in bed.

A faint sniffling sound reached Princess Celestia’s ears. Then, she felt it — a faint, sudden noise so high in pitch followed by a damp sensation in her tail. Cold needles of dread prickled down her pack — poor Twilight Sparkle had sneezed fearfully right into her tail.

Too many lifetimes of politicians made it so that Celestia could know all the exact moments to swallow her heart. This was one of them, and she managed to force the feeling of frustrated horror down her throat all too gracefully for her own good. Let snot drip down her tail, when all this was said and done, she would bleach her coat whiter than it already was. If that was what it would take to get it clean again, that is exactly what she would do.

Heavens above, thank goodness she had never had any foals.

Only a second later, and Twilight was trotting right over to the window. It clearly wasn’t because she was no longer afraid — one could clearly observe a tremble in her gait — but for some other reason.

Celestia had to blink before she realized that Twilight had heeded her teacher’s words automatically not because of bravery, but because Celestia hadn’t asked.

“There!” squeaked the little filly. She pointed one stubby foreleg outside, where dark clouds were curling around the shadows of neighboring spires. “Look out there, Princess!”

And once the princess had trotted close enough to the window, she did. She stuck her head right out the window so that most of her mane spilled out with her. The hardwood of Twilight Sparkle’s desk pressed into her skin, ending right below her knees.

“My goodness, little one. Just what is it that I’m supposed to be looking for? Can you really not sleep because of some clouds? You went in here just to gawk at the clouds… because your night-light wasn’t working?”

“Nonono, Your Highness! You hafta look up!”

“Twilight, we’ll go back into your bedroom and fix your night-light right away. That I can do. But you really mustn’t overreact so much when the only thing out here is the moon—”

“Y-yes!” Twilight yelped. “The moon! The moon!”

Pulling her head back inside, Princess Celestia trained her gaze blankly upon her pupil. “Twilight Sparkle, it is normal for the moon to be that close. You’re up in these towers with me now. It’s going to look closer, I’ve raised it enough to know where to put it. Fillies your age are normally afraid of how close it looks…”

Twilight made a small, shameful nicker, kicking her hooves at the floor sullenly. She rubbed at her snotty muzzle with one of her forehooves.

“...and most fillies your age are afraid of the dark too.”

“The night is just so scary,” Twilight whispered, “and that s-shape it has is just s-so m-mean and ugly.”

“I know it is, Twilight. But there’s no getting rid of it.” Celestia sighed. “It’s been there forever, even when I was much younger.”

“Really?” Twilight asked, awestruck, moving toward her mentor again.

The princess nodded, letting Twilight wrap her unfortunately grubby forehooves around one of her rear legs again.

“Yes,” Celestia lied. “There is no use fussing about craters in the moon.”

Twilight blinked reverently up at Celestia, her eyes brimming with more adoration than Celestia had seen from a foal in a long, long time. “I heard one of the maid’s daughters say there is a big, mean nightmare that lives in the moon, and those ugly beasts like that are why we celebrate Nightmare Night.”

It had been far too many years for Celestia to feel hatred toward that wicked slur. She smiled more brightly and widely down upon Twilight Sparkle instead.

“Oh, my dear little Twilight Sparkle. The next time you hear something that silly, you may tell that filly she is full of pish-posh. There is not a single soul that lives in the moon, and anything you hear is simply made-up tall tales to keep fillies like you in bed at night. Do you really think it would be logical for there to be any magical beasties there? Where no little critters can breathe?”

Twilight pressed her cheek into Celestia’s leg, consider this. “Nu-uh! Nothing can teleport that far! There’s no science to it! No spell can do anything to the moon…” She tilted up to look at Celestia again, “...nothing except the gods,” Twilight finished breathlessly.

“Exactly!” The princess affirmed, braying a giddy laugh afterward. “And I assure you, Twilight Sparkle, that I have never lost anything upon the moon. Now, with that hogwash all done with, why don’t we get you cleaned up and back in bed. I think that somepony had a night-light that needed fixing, and that somepony was you!”

She risked patting the filly on the head one more time. Twilight was in dire need of a washcloth, and often got overstimulated if booped at the wrong time.

’Sensory issues’ her parents had explained.

“Twilight, do you know what a telescope is?”

“Nu-uh,” Twilight said, shaking her head so that her bangs whipped with the gesture, “are they pretty?”

“Well, they’re something sort of like a firefly lantern. My little ponies use them to fight the darkness. Lots of scientists use them. I think that you would make quite the little astronomer if you could get over that fear.”

“Wow, Princess! That sounds amazing!”

“Yes, I’m sure we could get an astronomy tutor to help set one up. I’m afraid I only could teach you the basics. Somepony else will have to help you pick one out. I’m rather surprised that none of your books don’t have any in them.”

“Oh no, I guess I wasn’t paying attention!” squeaked Twilight fretfully, hopping towards the door.

“There’s no need to fret, little one. You won’t have any tests on the stars.”

“Aww,” Twilight pouted, giving one last exaggerated hop out of the studying parlor. It was exactly in tune with the sound of Celestia slamming the windows tightly shut once more.

They left that room without a care, and Celestia didn’t think to look back when she closed the door behind her. In that time, Princess Celestia had learned a valuable lesson of her own: no matter the situation, regardless of the stakes, and no matter her own feelings… Twilight Sparkle did exactly as she was told.

Perhaps there was nothing that would ensure her future more than that — the obedience necessary for faithfulness.





Princess Celestia would not disparage destiny, because she has always had little else to believe in, but her heart is still filled with doubt. Even as she watched Twilight leave her for the first time, the princess knew that she could not be proud. She felt nothing like the page’s mother sending away her only colt with dreams he will become a knight. Princess Celestia did not think this because she knew the cheapness of dreams, but because without you Twilight Sparkle, she had always had little to look forward to.

Princess Celestia had always had a desperate need of her Twilight Sparkle, one she had never been able to bring herself to show. Her need of Twilight had been greater than the need for any other pony in her eternity, though Princess Celestia would never blatantly put that pressure on Twilight, much less into words. How could she say such a thing? Something as explicit and inappropriate as I-love-you? That, she, the goddess had a greater need of Twilight Sparkle (sun-raising aside) than Twilight did for Princess Celestia when her student was a filly? There are many fears that crawl up her throat so desperately as Princess Celestia watches Twilight's chariot depart, and she could not bear to voice any of them. She was burdened by the mere thought of all this emotion, and it weighs upon her more than crowns and chariots.

Is it any wonder that Princess Celestia had always envied the statues in her garden?

Here she stood, in the city he had built for another, and the nastiness of powerlessness is upon the mare who loathed it most. Princess Celestia didn't want to watch Twilight go because she had never wanted Twilight Sparkle to leave her in the first place, but she always knew that she would have to make her Faithful Student do this. Such is destiny. Such is fate. Princess Celestia had always said that destiny, and dear life itself, never let bad things happen to good creatures. Only those who are wicked will ever find even the smallest amount of wickedness come back to them. And is destiny not the harmony that the princess wanted Twilight Sparkle to discover for herself?

The thing that pained the princess the most about her Faithful Student's great destiny, Twilight Sparkle, is that Princess Celestia could not orchestrate every step of it with her plans. Twilight could not comprehend how dearly that Princess Celestia wanted to pluck every string in the symphony of Twilight Sparkle's life, to give her reward beyond measure, and heroism without risk. Instead, the princess find herself idle and unable to lift hoof or horn to help her own student.

Even if she could, how could she help Twilight Sparkle against that which Princess Celestia could never face herself?

Who she could not face herself. The same who that Princess Celestia had always had to stare down and say was a storybook legend instead of her own blood. The same kin who Twilight Sparkle had spoken of as an utter monster and breezie tale paragon of evil for as long as she had lived, as had all of Princess Celestia's other Faithful Students. Twilight did not remember all of her foalhood naivete and first stumbling steps to analyze the breezie tales that never made enough ‘sense’ to the little lavender filly with such an inflexible mind.

But Princess Celestia did remember. Twilight always played the little professor, which Princess Celestia was sure is something within her Faithful Student's destiny. Twilight's mother’s spare pair of reading glasses was her uniform. Princess Celestia thought that her Twilight Sparkle had to have been the only little foal to ever say to the goddess that breezie tales should only serve as strict moral and rational guidance, otherwise they lacked any purpose that rationalized why they deviated from reality.

Worse than Twilight leaving was the doubt that plagued her. Princess Celestia felt that it is an infection, but not the kind that a mare could approach a physician about. That would be a confession, and there is nothing that she was against more than confession. Even the idea of it is something that is deeply troubling to the princess. She should not doubt that Twilight was the hero she had made her Faithful Student to be. The mind of Princess Celestia was a torturous, rebellious thing, however, and it seems that it wants for nothing else.

Princess Celestia told herself that she had never had a foal, nor had she ever considered herself a mother. Yet, the sacrifice she have made in parting with Twilight brought to mind all the empty nest tales she had heard being told for eras. Loss is horribly familiar to her, but never before did Princess Celestia think that she would understand anything of what mothers may go through. It has always been something that she had considered to be unrelatable. Her Faithful Students are her most coveted treasures as the craftspony cherishes every chess piece they’ve carved. Princess Celestia knew that she had made Twilight Sparkle, but she was keenly aware that she had not made Twilight Sparkle in the way her Faithful Student's mother had. Kindness is kindness to me, and Princess Celestia could not see any reason to put the love of a mother and a teacher in the same box.

Every wingbeat of her pegasus guards took Twilight farther away from her, and the only optimism that Princess Celestia had is that she had not poured all this awfulness over her dearest student. That she was going to let her little unicorn be a hero, and a hero like no other as well. None of her past Faithful Students had made it to where Twilight was, but none were destined to be my Spark, the Spark.

Princess Celestia could not make them into somepony that would work, even if they had Twilight's cutie mark, and her pure soul to boot. None were her Sparks of any sort, even if they ended up heroes. It only hurt Princess Celestia more to see that the one Faithful Student - and she meant truly faithful - that she have had is the Spark she must cast from the fire, and see if Twilight would survive. Twilight Sparkle was never the one that the goddess could bear to gamble with, Twilight, just the one she had to do so with.

With each pace that put Twilight closer to Ponyville, Princess was left among the spires of Canterlot. There, she wanted nothing more than to take ten paces for every one her soldiers made to bring her Twilight Sparkle back, to place under her wing, where she would not have to leave again. Princess Celestia was afraid it has been a long time since she had gotten anything she had ever wanted.

And now that Twilight Sparkle was gone, Princess Celestia was left with only her own horrible words.







Dear Twilight Sparkle,

In your time as my Faithful Student, you have accomplished many things that have made me so very happy for you. I will even indulge in vice and say that I am so, so proud of you. That is not a word I dare use often, and in your time under my tutelage, you certainly have come to know why, and just what I think of pride. Your skill in magic is one that has so much potential just like the others did

I know that you will continue to study magical practice and theory. Your grades shall certainly continue to rise, and I see in my mind's eye that you are heading toward a brilliant future — one where I wish to see you continue to excel and never stop learning about the things that matter. If When you come back from Ponyville, we will have the biggest celebration in Canterlot. It will be bigger and better than your sixteenth birthday bash, and when all is done I will have a proper pop quiz, just for you. Oh, Twilight Sparkle, don't think that for a moment I know that you (and Spike) would adore a pop quiz once all this Summer Sun Celebration madness is over and the prophecy has been fulfilled you may return to your studies here in Canterlot.

Do you not think I have seen what you have become? You've grown into a lovely young mare under my tutelage and I know that

Please don't fail me in Ponyville and heed my advice to

After all that you have done so far, I'm sure you'll succeed at whatever you see in your mind that must be followed. I picked a scholar because no uneducated pony could do what I need to be done have assigned for you on this most special occasion. Even if that task is making friends in Ponyville, I need you to see that you will never grow so much that I will shun you from your place under my wing, and Canterlot is always the home you will need. My Faithful Student, you need to hear that you can always come home again I need you to have no chance to fail because if you can't come home

Of all your amazing, most special traits, I can see plainly that it is your humility and doggedness that will aid you in this quest of great good — the greatest good, as I am sure you will come to realize. Did you think that your knack for the organization has no translation in this most splendid and harmonious hegemony I rule? All that you have become will ensure that you and Spike find yourselves in good company, and do take care to ensure that he gets to bed on time. Friends aren't as out of reach as you think, and they will help guide you on the journey that I have taken care to put you on.

If you aren't the one meant to wield

There is no doubt in my mind that you — but not you alone — will be able to accomplish more than you have given yourself credit for on this mission of the utmost importance little errand in Ponyville! The history books that you love to read may soon have their pages marked by a very familiar face — one surrounded by her brand-new friends and smiling widely. When that time comes, be sure to give your widest smile, my Faithful Student. It will make up for the art of the perfect wave I have not taught you yet.

Ever since you were a little filly, I had begun preparing you for this task, for I had no choice in the path I knew you were to be set on. I knew that there were some things I could not teach you as I could teach you other, more academic subjects. There was no map that would lead you to friendship, though your character is the finest clay that could be molded until it was perfect to pop into the kiln of camaraderie I knew that you would have to step into one day. Such is fate, my most precious of Students.

That — friendship — was what I wanted you to have the most otherwise the other five would not work

You see, this oddity was what would determine whether or not you passed a test that has been in the making for one thousand years. While you have grown out of the stage where you spoke to none but Smarty Pants, your brother, and Cadance, I have been able to see your shortcomings. These are the ones rooted in a fundamental awkwardness that I know still exists within you, though it goes beyond you being differently-abled. I certainly noticed when you failed to pick up on any cues that marked the point where your brother and my niece — perhaps even your future sister — began the next stages of their lives, where little fillies could not always be tagging along. You have never seen the way Raven looks at me, and I must confess oh, how I loathe that word that as a mare who has never favored mares, I have missed her glances too. Oh, my little Twilight, you can only see the good in the world and I am drawn to your moth-like ability to only see the light of the world and in myself. Optimism exceeds honesty, and of that trait, you are ripe, pure, and ready.

Though it was years ago, I do know that you hardly enjoyed any of my prompts for you to be enrolled in a few classes at my School for Gifted Unicorns. For that awkwardness, I must apologize, but if you knew what I knew would be coming if you were to look closer at the sky it was necessary to get you to begin to learn how to talk to ponies your age. Spike and I were not proper companions for a growing filly. I'm very aware that you did not like being assigned Moondancer, Lyra, Minuette, and Lemon Hearts of your assigned friend group. But when all of this is said and done, and you have returned to Canterlot, I do think that you'll be able to understand what I have done and why...

Twilight Sparkle, I am a very guilty mare because I could not care for somepony who needed my help the most and they suffered because of my actions. This was somepony I should have always been there for, and I have never stopped missing them in their absence, though you have no inkling of who this may be — and for good reason; this is my greatest burden and thus my highest of secrets. You have been spared of hearing some of the countless and secretive speculations of where I am from and if I am the sun itself, even if these whispers primarily lurk outside of Equestria's borders and in the thaumaturgy departments of foreign universities. I will always be glad that I have closed your ears to the hushed whispers of why I have only the sun upon my flank if I manage—

Have you ever thought of what it would be like to be separated from Shining Armor? Truly separated, unable to help or—

Time is like a knife, Twilight Sparkle, even if you hold it at a distance it will eventually cut you when you aren't careful...

I miss her terribly and I may have numbed myself to some of this feeling — and the initial impact of her loss may be gone...

Sometimes I cannot tell if the fire of regret or the numbness of what my grief has become is worse.

There was never meant to be one Alicorn goddess ruling Equestria, and I have aimed to use everything in my power to change that and to make this land one that truly represents order and harmony. You and all my other little ponies know the weight of importance I place upon good intentions and bending the world into a kind one. If you ever come to know the other gods even a fraction, as well as you have come to know me, I'm afraid you'll see that they insist on many different ways of the world. What they call realism is pish-posh, and they are far too immersed in all mystic manners I am shocked the thaumaturges and sorcerers call them miracles and see their texts as more worthy than mine. Ah, Twilight, it is a sad day when our most benevolent destiny is forsaken for a twisted idea of harmony, but I am rambling now. You will not need to know the other gods until you are at your grave decades from now, thank Harmony.

What you are about to right is rooted in a wrong I had done, and all because of something ugly I had once been... and the ways in which I did things that only hurt the bond between myself and this other. I sawed it to pieces instead of severing it with a more merciful single strike. It was I who refused us the sole fight to cleave our kinship in two... and I twisted the knife of time into the one I should have cherished most. I hurt a mare who couldn't bear to be a single star — that is if we are to draw any reference to the suns-as-stars theory. She was different like you and couldn't be what was expected of her I'm ashamed to say that even I wanted this once and pretend to be a star — as some distant sun — when she was meant to have her own sky... and because of everything that happened she tried to go through me to get it. That last line is all the bedtime remembers of the mare that history obliterated.

I hurt the only family I have, and she bit back with as much fury as she had and it got her—

It took her absence to make me realize that I loved my family. Worse than that, it took what was tantamount to her suicide until the fortune teller's words too many centuries too late for me to know that I should have always kept it that way when my own actions helped tear us apart. The only force that can save her is one that I no longer believe in after what they did to her can no longer control, and it is only through your actions that order and peace could really return to Equestria, and harmony shall be able to heal my heavy heart at last. I changed so much for her, you must realize that! Ponies thought differently than — and not the more acceptable kind of different that you are and she was, but an ugly and cruel different. No matter what, different is always slightly dangerous but

Equestria was not a place that would be recognizable to you, even your history books — all history texts — are but a pale imitation of past horrors. There is a good reason that Nightmare Moon is in no legitimate history book, and you have read the story of a nation whose only hardship was fleeing frozen winter-lands. History tells of an instantaneous racial harmony between my little ponies for a reason. Discord is recounted as a tame, half-myth that I defeated alone, and without any kin or a preceding war in all that you grew up with for equally necessary reasons; the aftermath of his anarchy shall not be spoken of as anything but quick-healing miracles because that is what history must believe. The land is truly filled with life, precisely because it is permitted no unkindness.

I changed, and I did so over and over again. I will always change.

I waited because—

You, Twilight Sparkle, are the only Faithful Student who showed any true potential as the key I would one day need. Your magic surge and tell-tale mark were all I needed, and all I hadn't seen in so long... oh, how your purple stars, that single image of the Spark has haunted me.

But the other Students? They are the ponies who only get portraits and prestige upon graduation, as I am sure some would so cruelly put it if we are to delve into inaccurate simplicity. They were scholars, each one was well-trained, the cream of the crop... but I never established the Faithful Students to be anything more than distractions until...

Oh, only my little ponies would believe me when I tell you I don't know how to say this. My dear little subjects and Faithful Students, you all understand me so well.

They were not heroes, Twilight, and that was what I needed — what destiny required. None of them would ever be able to succeed, to learn the true secrets of magic...

I needed a hero-to-be in the form of somepony like you, but not for my sake...

For Luna's sake.

She is the reason that I told you to have fun on your trip instead of good-bye. My kin is the ghost I can no longer see because she was not the first or the last. All she was was the greatest reminder in the line of Discord, Sunset Shimmer, and others that all those who I dare tell that I love them will leave me.

So I tell no one, not even you, that I love you ever so much, Twilight Sparkle. I love you because of how much I need you and because I cannot know how to feel any other way about you, for you are my proudest achievement.

Your Mentor,

Princess Celestia




...


The moon scarred with the image of an all-but-forgotten goddess loomed over the city of Canterlot and the last traces of a cool summer night's breeze swirled past the spires of Canterlot castle. Even though the moon was high in the sky, Princess Celestia shook in cold that wasn't there as she sat on her tower's balcony. A thin line of enchanted sunfire was dancing on the golden rail and casting dramatic shadows on her face. She sat not because she was tired, but because her legs wouldn't stop shaking each time she tried to stand. They shook like the uncertainty she put into every uncharacteristically clumsy word. So Princess Celestia sat and added the last few lines on her letter to Twilight Sparkle, who was now likely to be asleep in Ponyville's Golden Oak Library where she had arranged for her Faithful Student and her little brother to stay.

Even for Princess Celestia, it was difficult to resist the urge to look up at the sky where four of the odd stars had already begun drawing themselves to Luna, bit by bit, in order to finish the spell. Celestia bit her lip — stopping only when she tasted blood. By then, it had become harder to breathe the more she tried to hold all second thoughts at bay. Part of her was still screaming with some kind of fragile, mad excitement at the prospect of seeing Luna — or whatever might be left of her — that caused something vital-feeling inside of her to threaten to burst. She held back as much emotion as possible, but twin streams of tears still managed to squeeze their way out of her eyes, and however much it hurt, Princess Celestia tried to swallow the few hiccup-like sobs that had threatened to escape her until they only escaped her in dry, pained coughs.

She would see her sister again. Celestia would beg if she had to — if that's what would keep Luna from hurting anypony and buy Twilight Sparkle some more time.

Once the last flourishes of her signature were added, Princess Celestia rolled up the scroll and sealed it. She then placed it off to her side, gold aura flickering nervously and threatening to die and drop her letter. Somehow, she managed to set it down carefully, as if she were afraid the paper would make a noise that would startle somepony who wasn't there. Though it was part-confession (oh, that vile term) and part-letter, it was sloppier than anything Princess Celestia would ever really write. She had always put perfection first in dictating and composing her letters to Twilight Sparkle and all of her Faithful Students before her. Next to the princess was another sheet of parchment, the inkwell she had been using, and the only unbroken quills she had left. The rest lie around her, broken and snapped when she had applied too much pressure in her hurried writing.

It was all because of how her magic was fluctuating, of course, nothing more.

She didn't want it to be anything more.

There were still two letters she would need to write tonight. It was only when Princess Celestia managed to draw a single breath, one so shallow and hoarse, did she look up at the sky and the paths of the stars, now in motion more than ever...

She had so little time left to write now.

Celestia took one more breath. It was deeper, but sputtering, almost as if it were her last. For an undying being the concept of the last breath... it was absurd to think that she would have one. Yet, right now Celestia was very, very afraid that it would be her last breath... at least for a long time.

Princess Celestia's jaw clenched and unclenched. It was all nerves. She felt lightheaded. The summer air was freezing and the start of a sudden cold sweat had appeared on her forehead in this ungodly, unnatural chill. She felt as if she had been plunged into ice water!

Making as much use of whatever time she had left, Princess Celestia moved to her second, blank piece of paper—

— and then she stopped to eye the confession she had written to her Faithful Student. A heartbeat passed and she lifted the letter, dreading each second of silence she held onto it. Then, with a single motion, she cast it into the flames created by her light and watched it burn until she could see the ashes fall.





Destiny must always be kind because there can be no destiny that does not bring good to those who are without evil. Princess Celestia did not believe that destiny would ever wrong her, and yet she could not imagine she could see one of the ultimate sources of which good can be judged through anything less than a rose-tinted view. Unfortunately, it appears her glasses had slipped. It is unfortunate, seeing as this is the day when they ought to be glued to her muzzle and inescapable. There should not be even a second’s misery upon her. Not today, never today.

It is the last pale night, and what is supposed to be the happiest day of her life.

Only now, is joy her partner in a dance that has swirled away for somepony else. Even if it is only just, for now, this is that second. Princess Celestia knew this was her fumble, and like all her fumbles, Twilight Sparkle was forever blind to them. Princess Celestia had left her Faithful Student in Ponyville on a chariot with the one mare she never thought she would see again, the Princess Luna, her own sister.

Her eyes are drier than the San Palomino desert, and she had had the faintest, distant notion that they should not be so. Yes, she had cried in public at last, a mythic, unheard-of thing for the sun goddess. She had wept when she saw Luna, and for once she did not try and stop herself.

But should Princess Celestia weep for Twilight Sparkle too?

Princess Celestia had intended for the chariot to hold three. Four, counting Spike. It is not as though she had made that some mere oversight, without an iota of intent behind it. What would Twilight Sparkle think of Princess Celestia if she could know every meaning behind her mentor's words? If her teacher were to speak plainly to her Faithful Student, would she marvel at how unlike the goddess that would be? Princess Celestia knew that Twilight can't not imagine being spoken to in any other way, nor could the goddess imagine her student presenting herself any other way to her.

Princess Celestia simply could not imagine any world where Twilight Sparkle would ever see her as the light of her life.

Perhaps she had teased her Faithful Student too much and stacked too many bits on the side of words the goddess had only half-meant. It was not that she had never meant for Twilight Sparkle to finally make her own friends, she just did not think Twilight would leave her for them. Never in a million mortal lifetimes would she had ever thought that Twilight Sparkle would not have been in the chariot alongside her, smiling and scribbling away notes in her vast shadow with Spike as Luna and Princess Celestia spoke.

Princess Celestia needed Twilight Sparkle, Princess Celestia wanted Twilight Sparkle, and was sure that this is all too soon. On March 30th, her and Twilight got to celebrate the latter's birthday together before afternoon duties called the former away. Princess Celestia finally got to know that the little filly she had plucked from the most unheard-of entrance exam results had become of age and that Twilight Sparkle was taking fine steps into her first year of marehood.

Perhaps if Princess Celestia had known that mere months later her Faithful Student would not be studying with her in Canterlot, she would have never written that little line. Maybe she would have kept assigning Twilight Sparkle social projects on the side, like what she had with Minuette and her friends. Twilight Sparkle was destined to be her little Spark of Magic, but she was still a Faithful Student, and nowhere near the graduating age of one. Yes, Twilight Sparkle may be studying still, but to be away from the princess was not the wish of the latter. Of all her Faithful Students, Twilight Sparkle had been the youngest, and saying yes to giving her up to Ponyville feels like a betrayal of both of them — and yet the part is all upon the goddess.

That silly old library is not even decorated properly. For being the residence of one of the Faithful Students of a goddess, it is just woeful in how plain it is. Princess Celestia felt like she was shoving Twilight into a closet with mud pulled straight from the uncivilized murk of Hayseed Swamp by letting her stay there, in Golden Oaks Library. A responsible mentor would immediately be commissioning the proper furniture for her and Spike.

Instead, Princess Celestia has a moment to mourn her Faithful Student, though she still lives, and stand upon her Canterlot balcony knowing she would no longer be burdened with the moon. It is one of the greatest mercies that Princess Celestia could imagine, to be relieved of it, and yet she can’t help but feel that something about this day came at a price or at least something like it.

And that price ended up being Twilight Sparkle.

Princess Celestia did not know if Twilight Sparkle would fail when facing who she could not, and Sparking what is stone to the goddess — and has been for ages. And Princess Celestia would never tell any of her Faithful Students such a thing. She would not ever give you the burden of theatrics and worries that Twilight had never seen from her mentor before. Twilight, who had always kept Princess Celestia as an idol more than anypony else — more than the princess herself, when she needed to find a face of serenity to put on in the toughest of times.

Princess Celestia needed her Faithful Student to still be running around the castle halls. When the goddess awoke tomorrow, she needed to see that Twilight Sparkle would already be studying for exams that her teacher will only begin to outline for you next semester — and for no other reason except that Twilight wanted to, that Twilight had to will yourself to rise with her teacher's sun to plant your muzzle into a book. Tomorrow, Twilight's face was the one that Princess Celestia wanted to be required to see when she introduce Luna to the kitchen staff.

Princess Celestia could not hear Twilight Sparkle in letters, and she was still surprised at her own promise to all that Twilight had wished — for Ponyville, for friends that her mentor had no hoof in, for a new home with Spike, and for being away. Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow Princess Celestia would have to have Twilight right where he left you, in Canterlot, because she could fathom her Faithful Student leaving.

Her Faithful Student was Twilight Sparkle of Canterlot, daughter of Twilight Velvet, and Nightlight. She was the younger sister to Shining Armor and the elder to Spike the dragon.

Now, she was the Element, the Spark of Magic. Though it may take just moments for her letters to reach Princess Celestia by dragonfire, Princess Celestia would feel all the miles each time her hoof touches them. And every time she did, she will wish with all that she knew that these ivory towers of her castle would not change too much without her little Twilight Sparkle.





If you knew you should have treated somepony differently, would you have?

Princess Celestia asked herself many of the questions she hated most. The bright side of this was that she didn’t have to answer them. When luck was kind, she even had the opportunity to be caught up in everything that would allow her to forget intrusive barbs like that.

Cruelty in her thoughts was to be combated (and that in itself could prove to be a nasty word) with kindness in deed. Chances for repetition could be dulled by working at something new, thus weakening something old. It’s what she had tried, anyway. The chance for somepony else’s happiness by doing something simple and alleviating wasn’t ever worth forgoing.

The mirror before her stood, heavy and gleaming. Within the flawless surface, her own face dared to reflect tiredly back at her. Many gems glinted proudly, boasting the mirror’s many secrets and only outshone by Celestia’s mane. The tiny image of a pony prancing in a miniature mirror crowning the grand old thing was the chief insult.

Many years ago, Celestia had re-examined the artifact and the luminous surface that held endless new ways to haunt her. Before the Everfree castle, there had been another, and she had hauled this old artifact of the gods from the ruins. It was the only thing she bothered taking. One trip to the other side had been enough for her to know the seemingly indestructible piece was worth monitoring as it went through its cycles of opening and closing.

Now, all it did was present her with a crystalline barrier that had claimed her Sunny. A whole world could be found on the other side, when the cycle was right. There was no telling where Sunny could have ventured or what could have happened to her, and certainly not after the time it took to realize that this was the artifact Sunset Shimmer had trifled with. There had been no train tickets purchased late in the night when she left or airships that held a stowaway barely trotting into her teen years. Gifted Unicorn School friends hadn’t smuggled Sunset to one of their homes on the date of what became their last quarrel because Sunset didn’t have any friends.

Over the years, the mirror never appeared to gather dust, no matter how many layers of old sheets the princess threw over the thing. Before, she locked it plainly, keeping it covered and out of sight with other magical artifacts of middling concern, where castle staff were informed make detours around. Before Sunset’s hurtful stunt, the only one Celestia really had to hide the mirror from was herself, especially because she had never thought Sunset Shimmer had really found this particular artifact the few times she had referred to a 'magic mirror'. Every filly had a very active imagination, and Princess Celestia could not see why one little filly with an attitude that burned would be any different. Especially not when she was surrounded by furnishings fancy enough to look magical, even when they were no more than elegant, well-made pieces to bring life to the castle's interior.

Now, all she could think about was the subtle malice to it. Her knowledge of its nature was useless, and despite the increasingly secure places she locked it, she was aware that it was dangerous. A greater field of protection against those who would seek to exploit the artifact’s power became an advancing priority in her thoughts.

(And who would keep what was little else than the tomb of Sunset Shimmer?)

Yet the princess hadn’t come here for mourning to snag at her mind and produce such gloom. She had come to this dusty old space because she knew Cadance needed a wedding gift. An old mirror with such a fantastic look would easily be appreciated by the mare and a welcome addition to any new home. She couldn’t help but find something brighter and kinder in the idea of giving somepony a gift which they could protect and value so highly. A treasure – if Cadance chose to think of it so – that wouldn’t break when anything else might.

Sunset Shimmer hadn’t even been the one initially in Princess Celestia’s thoughts when that question had sprung to mind.
> Forever Mare [Second Version] [One Shot] [Bonus Material] [Archive]
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Princess Celestia looked around the torch-lit throne room of the Everfree Palace. Her eyes drifted past the occupied throne beside her to the guards leading the next pony into the throne room. She could already hear the rhythmic march of their hoofsteps and the sound of their armor in unison to those motions.

It was another day in the young nation of Equestria. Ponies still whispered reverently of the defeat of Discord at the hoof of the goddess sisters who ruled them with such care compared to First Equestria. The mysterious death of Princess Platinum was all the shaken then-Triarchy had known before the arrival of Discord, and the sisters' war against him. So many ponies had perished that was really all that was known by mortals now — the elderly were extinct. All before Discord's time had seen their world turned into an instrument of famine and accidents abound, but it was the reignition of interracial power skirmishes that shattered the briefly unified ex-tribes of the Triarchy that led to so much loss of life. Only the Two Sisters rallying ponies against the draconequus pulled the country from ruin.

Even under her pristine white coat, the thought of that war, of Discord made her divine heart feel as though it were being torn up a bit. Each beat brought a pulse of dark thoughts, wholly unbidden, to the edge of her mind. Celestia did not hate much. But she had to hate any sense of shadows and monsters, and anything that could bash her optimism. The sense of Good and Harmony that was the foundation of this Equestria, Second Equestria, and her every philosophy must prevail. No matter the cost.

She, the radiant and eternal mare had single-hoofedly done what no ruler had ever done in keeping stability that went beyond mortal capability. Before Celestia and her shadow, the tribes were all these ponies had ever known, save for tales of a world lost to ashes.

Celestia did not like those tales, and let them stay just that — tales and no more — at every chance. This displeased Luna, but everything troubled the younger, honorary princess that Celestia found to be a leech in all but name. Her most common reaction to the otherwise silent, sullen creature that lurked about the castle and the wilds — seemingly not much more — and had never had anypony which she called friend or lover, was for Celestia to purse her lips into a thin line. Always did Celestia refuse to make any sound of distaste at the different mare's presence in the polite company of her subjects.

Luna occupied a throne next to her, and that was the extent of her presence in Celestia's life, at least, between their fights and occasional meetings together, usually in the form of a meal. Luna was quiet. She watched the world with eyes that Celestia could never decipher. She conformed to no standard, and rarely appeared at any of the holidays of ponies. Celestia's beloved ponies, spoke of her as a footnote: the second princess, which she was, and Celestia's younger sister, a label that seemed to be drifting away between them farther than the distance between the sun and moon could ever be. There was also 'the dark goddess' which was such a queer and eerie title compared to Celestia's plentiful store of epithets. Yet, who would expect the non-governing princess to have the wealth of nicknames her elder did?

Celestia was a mare of light and change. It was she that had done away with the slavery the tribes had practiced, that had extended compassion to all, had given anypony regardless of class a chance to speak before her, who went on tours across her nation (her shadow following behind, of course), who made the 'castes' of the Tribal Era into a 'class' that could be changed. She funded the armies, the workers, and laborers who loved her. The laborers were fair and fed because she had liberated their ancestors with words in a time when violence alone was the standard.

Celestia was the mare who said that two stallions or two mares could wed when the Tribal Era 'sensibilities' would be appalled by such a 'condition' and exile such ponies. Luna had wanted the same to take place, and had insisted on justice for ponies suffering cross-sexual ailments too. Those were the ones that Celestia had a hard time connecting to, but had not hesitated to include when she learned of them. Celestia just happened to speak for acceptance more loudly than Luna had, so the latter's efforts were pale in the mind of ponies. It was Celestia who spoke up for those who were abused, be that abuse through means of prejudice, magical, or whatever else under the sun could hurt her little ponies.

She was against discrimination against her ponies, if it existed. If one were to ask why poorer spouses were no longer thought of as chattel, or why the pegasi practiced marriage instead of having broodmares or soldier-foals, it would be because of her and how loud and often Celestia had spoken. Luna had been there too, but any number of questions on the traditions of this new land, the land where Celestia had put her gilded hoof down and said that such acts were explicitly forbidden, then ponies would answer that it was because of their princess — near always singular — and that her name was Celestia. They credited their freedom to her and her Harmony.

She liked that very much. Every day when she rose to raise a sun that would not budge properly without her, donned her ever-present regalia, and sang little ditties to Philomena when nopony would hear, she did so out of love for her country. When picked her gown for the day, and applied the cosmetics of a mare of her station, she did it knowing that she was the mare who was going to help ponies. She was the mare who acted as the pinnacle for the Greater Good, the only thing above the gods, and the dogma she would devote herself to.

That was why she gave little thought to the occupied throne next to her — at this point, passing it over was simply instinct — and give her attention to the pony being marched in by the 'U' of guards surrounding them. They weren't close enough for Celestia to really see. She did, however, doubt that a griffon or some other creature. She rarely saw any other species, such as a buffalo, breezie, or any other creature by the sound of the hoofsteps — and if it were a dragon, kelpie, or changeling, Celestia would have had to meet with them outside. That was the custom for true outsiders.

The pony that was to see Celestia now was a mare — from across the decently dim hall, Celestia could see that clearly. The mare — an earth pony, or pegasus, it seemed — was quite tall and her build was almost broad. The fabric of her white dress shone in a way that was quite lovely — layers of lace styled like a whimsical snowflake fell in a variety of gorgeous layers. Celestia's smile of politeness softened a bit before widening at the sight of such a lovely gown, half a dozen compliments already dancing upon her tongue.

The closer that the mare got made it easier for Celestia to see that her golden-brown mane was pulled away from her face and done up in a net of gold. Whoever this well-dressed mare was, she must have a good family or plenty of money. Perhaps her spouse was quite generous with gifts? If all went well, Celestia might consider writing to this mare, or even inviting her to tea if she was a friendly sort. New friends were always appreciated, especially considering how lonely the Everfree Forest was.

When Celestia gave Luna a split-second glance, she noted that the darker mare's glum stoicism was paired with those cold eyes looking at their guest with a critical gaze that Celestia felt nopony deserved for a first impression. Such a gesture felt rude and improper to somepony who had yet to speak, but Luna often sat without twitching as far as Celestia observed. She directed looks like that at everypony, silent and never wishing a good trip as Celestia did to all their guests.

And then, the mare was close enough for Celestia to look at. She immediately saw why such a look from Luna might even have a sliver of merit in this scenario.

The pony wasn't a mare, at least not to the eye. The jaw of this pony was too square, and the noted bulk was explained by the broad, masculine withers. The lid of the eyes and brow was wholly unfeminine. Stringy, lank strands of the pony's mane had fallen out of the fashionable mane net she wore, and their guest was missing one of their mother of pearl earrings. The positioning of their ears, nearly laid against their skull was offset by fearful eyes the color of maple syrup. The poor pony's face was weary and anxious, and every swallow looked painful, causing the pronounced throat the pony had to bob all too visibly. Brown feathers rustled at their side, and made it all too apparent just how tightly wound with fear this pony was.

Celestia could now see that the dress she had admired so much was too small for the stallion-build of the pegasus pony before her, the hems dirtied and seams torn from abuse. There even appeared to be mud and rain stains on the lace, discoloring them with streaks that had been so obviously subjected to scrubbing attempts at some point. The fabric, due to the pony's size, must have been extremely constricting and the eyeliner that the pony wore was smudged and smeared so that her poor subject looked like a dirty, frightened raccoon. The makeshift, clotted look of the makeup made the princess wonder if the pony was wearing actual makeup at all, or some hastily scrounged-up substitute.

Immediately after taking the pitiful sight in, Celestia made a rare gesture of leaning over to the darker throne.

"This poor pony has been through much and looks absolutely famished. That poor dear is terrified, and needs a soothing presence." Which Luna was earnestly not — she was a mare of weapons, wilds, and magic. It was the general consensus of Celestia's subjects that the young, solitary, dark mare frightened ponies. "It would be quite well if there was some tea for Us to offer, if you would be inclined as to prepare some?”

They lived alone in this castle; guards marched ponies in and out for safety, not because they were positioned there. The two goddesses had a kitchen but no chef between them in the dark castle throne. It was only the soldiers who brought forth ponies for trials and court that were really the regulars. At all other times, the castle was managed alone. It wasn't that such a feat was hard — far from it, when the ground-keepers were two goddesses — but it made Celestia horribly lonely to have no adequate company.

Their home was inhospitable and dangerous, sure, but that did not keep a mare from longing for more than brief courtships and casual encounters with her visiting, armored stallions. Their nation was young and fresh as the cadets Celestia liked to sample, and the post-war existence was a fragile, dangerous one. Two goddesses could keep the castle magically prepared, aside from the natural protection their forest offered, but it did not change how unsafe the world was. Greedy southern nations could easily want two fight the two if they lived somewhere safe, and thus the most dangerous location in all of Equestria had become the safest. Celestia dreaded thinking about the political squabbles that would ensue, and all the accusations of favoritism that would come if they chose to move anywhere else.

Luna knew this to be a command. It was spoken in the same way Celestia would speak to a pony employed under the crown, only the honey she drenched each word in and mandatory pleasantries were like little thorns to Luna. Celestia could see that conveyed in her sister's eyes, which were usually unreadable in their sheer intensity. Despite this, she stood, leaving the anxious pegasus guest relaxed slightly as soon as the dark goddess departed. Luna, on the other hoof, reacted to the whispered words like they were a cymbal clap that had spooked her.

Though, Celestia knew the tea would be like bitter medicine when made by Luna. Even after centuries, she could not manage much that wasn't mash or bran, oatmeal, and basic herbal tea as bitter as northern winds. Toasting bread, boiling water, and little else were among what few cooking 'skills' that Luna was capable of. All that she could make were hardy, bare foods of the wilderness instead of refined recipes, or anything that didn't eat holes through the cutlery and cause the paint to peel and fire to burn black. None of those were fit for life in a castle!

With Luna gone into the shadows of another corridor, Celestia turned her attention to the guest, and gave her a friendly, kind, and sympathetic smile. "Welcome to the Everfree Castle, little pony. We art sure that thine journey hath been long and harsh, which is why We hath beseeched Princess Luna to fix tea for the both of us. We commend thee for making this journey through the Everfree Forest, and as thy Princess, We wish to solve problems that plague Our subjects, and thank you for bringing such issues to light. Wouldst thou please step forward and relay what hath brought thee to Us?"

With a wave of her forehoof, Princess Celestia dismissed the royal guards who would escort this pony home once they exited the castle's main hall.

The pegasus stepped forward nervously, a sight that hurt Celestia, and when they spoke it was with a stallion's voice. It was clear this pony was trying to force it into a higher pitch, for their voice wavered often and their hesitation was clear when they had to push their voice into a more nasally range.

"Mine name—" they paused to cough and clear their throat, "is Sorrel Lace, your Majesty. I come from the countryside of Hoofing Towne, though mine ancestors descend from Cloudsdale."

Celestia paused, trying to think of what could have happened to this pony. Were they a circus performer who trotted into misfortune? Forced into an arranged marriage — which was yet another outdated construct Celestia had abolished? Had this pony been the victim of some wicked highwaypony, who was delighted to live in a land where thieves were no longer executed like under the Triarchy, and had they decided to rob this pony of all their wealth? With so little time since Discord's fall, highwayponies were the least of Celestia's worries, yet more numerous than they had been before the war. Her little ponies were vulnerable to them in ways that she was not.

"Sorrel," said Celestia, her calm tone a contrast to Sorrel's wavering one, "couldst thou answer a question for Us?"

Sorrel nodded, bowing their head hastily. "Yes, yes, Princess. Anything."

"Be thee mare or stallion, Sorrel?"

Celestia was not prepared to see Sorrel's eyes tear up at the question, or the sobs that racked them. Celestia could not help but watch as Sorrel tried to roughly smother the sound of their own sobs and sniffs by holding one of her forehooves over their mouth, as though they hated the sound of their own voice.

For all Celestia knew, Sorrel did. A small slice of the Equestrian population were stallions who said they were mares and vice versa, and they were the ponies that Luna had an enviable insight into. It was only recently that such ponies were given any compassion at all, and they were allowed to dress accordingly without ridicule because of the work of Celestia and Luna. Some of them were wealthy or desperate enough to seek minor appearance altering charms that gave the appearance of shaving down a throat, squaring a jaw, or a number of minor things, like temporary alteration of a voice. Potions, creams, and cosmetics could offer a little work here and there too, and plenty of ponies stood before Celestia and Luna to request name changes and other legal alterations. It was all that could be done.

Was Sorrel one of those ponies? If so, Celestia would gladly help Sorrel, who deserved no judgement or ridicule for who they were.

Celestia dearly wished that Sorrel wasn't the other option. That would be a much direr situation.

"Little pony, there is no need for tears," Celestia said as she rose from her throne. She grasped the hem of her dress in her golden magic as she stepped down to Sorrel's side. Next, Celestia quickly offered them a conjured hoofkerchief to dry their eyes, a kind hoof on their back, and a concerned smile that any mother would give her foal.

"A m-mare," Sorrel sobbed, burying her muzzle in the hoofkerchief thankfully.

Patting her wither, Celestia continued to speak gently to the mare in front of her. "And what hath troubled thee to such lengths, Sorrel? Harmed by another? In need of the name to be fixed, or a magic potion? Buffalo remedies south of Our great nation can be obtained with careful diplomacy, if tis what thou art in need of. So please, do not feel so miserable. There art ponies here who shalt listen to thee."

"No, no princess. Thou art too kind," she sniffed and wiped her eyes, only for more tears to flow. "I need none of that, I need to..." Sorrel paused, swallowing and hunching over slightly so she appeared smaller. "Something which was taken—"

"What be it?" Princess Celestia interjected gently. "If bits, t’shall be refunded and the thief brought to Our hooves. If t’was material, or any other kind of heirloom or trinket, We shalt recover them in perfect condition for thee, if thou tell Us the circumstances and events leading up to it being stolen. In any horrible case where an heirloom or precious item of thine is broken or lost forever, a trinket from Our surplus of personal wealth shalt be thine, if thou would accept Our generosity and a token of it that We would be all too happy to bestow. So please, Madam Sorrel, tell Us what was stolen from you and why no other pony has helped you."

Sorrel did not answer immediately. Instead, she tried to quell some of her small, pained sobs — the very sobs that she hated the sound of — that still lingered between subject and ruler. Princess Celestia rested the hoof on Sorrel's wither more firmly, and lightly brushed the mare with her large, white feathers. They were the feathers that her subjects described as 'angelic' and claimed to have healing properties, if one were to hear the right gossip. This kind of talk still came from the same ponies who used 'goddess' as a way to Other the dark one, while outright worshipping Celestia the way the other gods outside of Equestrian borders were hailed.

Princess Celestia stood at her side while the young mare sobbed hysterically, and offered what little comfort she could in the moment, where the dim and austere castle offered none. Perhaps one day, that could change.

Sorrel's voice was weak and raw when she spoke: "T’is true, what ponies hath spoken of thee," she whispered, "thou art the light of the castle, Princess."

"Shh, little pony. Thou didn’st come here to offer compliments; hardship was not endured for thee to be smiled upon by Us. Please, little one, what hast thou lost?"

"Me, princess… I-I hath lost everything, no longer am I Mistress Sorrel Lace. I am not the wife of Maple Oak, nor am I the mare of a household or an expectant mother..." Sorrel's voice was horribly choked up on the last two words, making them an attempt as a feminine wail, that simply couldn't be done with a stallion's voice.

Now, the blood of Princess Celestia was running cold. The throne room felt frosty and slow, except for poor Sorrel, because now Celestia knew exactly what was wrong with her.

And she wished it could have been anything else. But Celestia kept her hoof on Sorrel's wither, and the maintained her most empathetic expression, and would not let her own voice drop to a horrified whisper.

"Mistress Sorrel," Celestia said slowly, as though her deliberate recitation of the name that had previously been a plea would shake the eerie atmosphere. "What hath become of thy family, husband, foal-to-be, and household? We know how terrible t’is, how difficult and harrowing thy world must feel, but thou must shed light upon it. Tell unto Us what hast truly happened to thee, We shalt do everything as a princess to help you, if t’is within Our power."

If, came the unwanted, cynical, and terribly conditional nagging whisper.

"Mine family..." Sorrel echoed, eyeing something past the far wall with a distant, harrowing look of recollection before swallowing painfully. "M-Mine household and mine h-husband's—" Celestia hid a wince when hearing her say that word, and how awful it sounded, "destroyed, Princess, by the chaos monster Discord dare try take our land from us, our Harmony, and call himself a king!"

Still holding Sorrel at a distance, Celestia breached personal space a bit more, using her magic to tuck a few strands of Sorrel's mane out of her face. She focussed on that square jaw of Sorrel's and how she had to keep her own irregular breathing in check when Discord was mentioned and the tangled, pained barb of feelings that Discord brought up. Only Celestia and Luna knew how he didn't use to be like that, not ever—

Celestia listened patiently, trying to keep her mind tranquil.

"We know, little pony," she said with a feather-soft tone, "of what grand threat he could be."

Was.

"But thou need not fear Discord any more, for as long as We..." It was Celestia's turn to pause; to correct what she was about to say and stress the plural she had almost ignored ever-so-slightly, "as long as thy princesses' connection to the Elements is strong and sure, the lingering magic of his petrification sealed as Harmony wishes, all shall be well. The stronghold of Canterlote is peaceful and Equestria as lovely as a sunny day, Discord shalt never, ever return. His stone prison holds fast, and shall for a time even beyond Our knowing."

Forever.

Sorrel did not smile, but Sorrel did not sob, which was an improvement. She kept speaking, slowly revealing an all-too-familiar horror story to Celestia. While she listened, the sun princess kept her emotions in check, as she should.

"Maple is an honorable and stubborn stallion of the earth, Princess, thou must understand that—"

"We do," Celestia replied gently, silently marveling at just how quickly her subjects were embracing the inter-race marriages that Tribal Era ponies had held in such horror. Even ponies like Platinum, who saw the tribes' end, would be disgusted by such a condemned act being legalized by a ruler... but Celestia knew that if her old, supposed 'friend'' was aware she ruled Equestria, then she would most certainly be turning in the Canterlote Catacombs.

Sorrel dipped her head. The skirt of her dress quivered in a way that Celestia, a mare experienced in politics and the social habits of ponies, knew to be an obvious signal of shaky legs. "Thou art very gracious, Princess, and thy power is dwarfed only by thy kindness."

"Tis Our duty to listen to all of Our subjects, especially when they make a point to arrive at Our home so well-dressed after much time on the road. We art being a proper hostess," Celestia said with a modest smile.

Sorrel did not return a hesitant one, as Celestia wished, but appeared a little more at ease. "Maple is strong, Princess. He is a good pony, a goddess like yourself would know if you were to stand before him, I assure you. He loves his land." She bit her lip with the delicate bite of any noble wife. It was a mannerism Celestia knew no other sort of pony to have. That slight gesture stood out so much — at least to her.

"He loved me once too," Sorrel whispered eventually, her whole body seeming to fade once the words were spoken.

Celestia could guess what unpleasant experience was going to be heard by her ears, and quietly looked at Sorrel's ears — direct eye contact was tricky for long periods of time for a multitude of reasons — and saw the small holes in them. These were clear indications of where fine jewelry would have been, no doubt made when Sorrel Lace was just a filly.

"I am but an embroiderer, Princess. Maple is a lumberjack, he is the strength in our family... would have been. Was. ...I know not what more should be spoken..."

Before she could burst into another round of disturbed, distraught sobs, Celestia shushed her gently. She pushed Sorrel's own hoof to her chest to remind her of the kerchief she still clutched, the one straight from the sleeves of Celestia's gown.

So, Sorrel continued, even though her voice was still shaky in the presence of a goddess. "When Discord came to the countryside, spreading madness and wrecking the stability we all knew... the whole world seemed on a tightrope after Princess Platinum's strange death. I am sure a great goddess like yourself felt that, Princess. How positively... sad, and peculiar that bated-breath existence was."

She had, and if Princess Celestia closed her eyes. She could see syrup rivers, her dear sun wobbling in the sky among cotton candy clouds, and feel roads of soap, dying crops, and the crunch of many a dead locust as though they were still under her very hooves. The sensation of burning summer snowflakes and raining worms stuffed with jams was a phantom against her coat. She imagined the all-too-recent time when snakes had fur, hen's teeth were more abundant than cinnamon, and the most important ponies became their opposites.

Celestia surprised herself, just a little bit, by not shuddering.

"We did, Sorrel Lace," Celestia said, her voice perfectly even and betraying nothing.

"Maple was a good stallion, Princess. Truly, he was. When Discord's damned madness had spread to our part of the country, Maple was quick to organize the rest of our little corner of the woods so that the stallions would be able to fight. Even a visiting mage-mare among them! And, oh Princess, mine friends and I..." she pauses once, mourning privately in a way Celestia cannot quite understand, "...we had all that that Discord would attack our stallions first, and that their strength, magic, clubs, and anything they had would have beaten his chaos back. We knew in our hearts that we were good, Princess."

"You art," Celestia whispered.

"E-Exactly! We were the good, the everyday, the normal, and the light up against that dark, insane beast — even if Maple and the others were all mortal, Princess. The monster did not fight the stallions first, Princess," Sorrel said, her voice raspier, "Maple's ax never cut into his flesh, its blade never struck through him and spilled out his tar-black and foul blood."

Celestia did not bother to correct her and say that Discord bled blood as red as Celestia's own — and as red as a pony's too.

She felt numb, a cold and familiar clockwork shroud only she could feel the weight of draped around her again, for she had heard such similar tales before. Her inner light waning and that numbness becoming unbearably familiar. Oddly enough, she embraced it, and some of the stagnation that it brought. It was a cold thing, like digging for treasure, until the spade stuck the hole a certain way. That iciness crept throughout her, sifting like fog —and a fog that told her she was digging a grave the whole time.

Her own grave to be precise. Celestia, like her sister, was not a creature who could die. Yet, she had lived through so many mortals vicariously.

Maybe Sorrel felt that feeling too. Maybe she knew others who went through this. Celestia did. Discord's magic was not anything dark, it was just madness. Some laughed. Some laughed, and it hurt. Some laughed because they were forced. Some wept and wept. The aftermath could be terrible, there could be begging and pleading, and not all things were reversible... if they were at all...

These ponies came in variety, but Celestia knew they were all the same. They were desperate. They were hurt. They were changed in bad, horrid ways that other ponies couldn't understand. What sounded like a joke was a night terror. Many had night terrors.

Age did not matter. This magic happened. Discord said that he was just having fun, and that echoed in Celestia's ears for some time afterward...

...because for Celestia, it wasn't fun to change land back to normal, and know that even Harmony's power could not restore all the food her ponies had lost.

He had said it was for 'fun', before he said he was lying.

...because Celestia had to hold the hooves of a little filly, who had once run across the ground as an earth pony, weep uncontrollably through the rag in her mouth while the seemingly normal wings on her back were amputated. She was not a pegasus, her bones were not right, nor was her magic. A variety of things did not make her a pegasus. That change did not make her an earth pony, merely an earth pony with pegasus wings attached to her, and that mixed magic poisoned and debilitated her. Any foal she bore would forever be an earth pony. Celestia knew because her family had been one with little inter-racial breeding. She remembered helping the family check their filly's ancestry. She remembered how much their daughter cried.

And it was all for 'fun'.

...because Celestia had to see so many other things, all seemingly mundane changes with horrifying consequences.

Discord's magic was just somewhat different from a pony's, or from an Alicorn's, or any other creature. He could achieve certain magical results he wanted in a way no other creature could. While he was powerful, he was nowhere near all-powerful or all-knowing.

The sense of helplessness that ran in Celestia because of some of the things he did struck her very bones. Sometimes it stayed there because there were things he did it would take a 'few' generations to hide, and some things could never be reversed... in a way. Perhaps if Discord had reappeared in Celestia's life three thousand years later, then she was largely certain that many of his magical alterations would not be nearly as catastrophic.

Discord did not murder, and Discord did not rape. Discord did not beat, he did not cut, he did not bruise. He created no wounds to heal. Many could move on from Discord with ease, and yet many could not.

Sorrel Lace was one of those ponies.

Celestia had to listen to why. She was Sorrel's princess, her last resort.

So Celestia listened and listened and listened because she was Sorrel's hero. She was the hero of all her ponies. The reason a gallant hero in shining armor had said armor in the first place and the morals to combat the darkness was because that armor was going to get very, very dirty.

Sorrel told her about how all alone in her house. She decided to try and pack a bit of food — it was nearby and she was hiding in the cellar — for herself before finding any servants hiding in the house and getting them to do the same. Sorrel had thought that it would be a good idea to have a few gardener-stallions pull the only carriage they had — really, Sorrel and Maple were not that wealthy. It was those kinds of details that Sorrel bothered to specify that really stuck out to Celestia.

Sorrel was with foal, and quite heavily too. She was sure that none of the two maid-fillies had run off and would not be able to walk far either. She was just being kind, she said to Celestia.

She was heavily pregnant.

Sorrel repeated that a lot. Celestia's mind did too.

Discord showed up in her cellar, cheerful and menacing all at once. Sorrel said that scared her so much she dropped the loaf of bread that she had tucked under her wing as she waddled about, and spilled all the food she had in the sack placed neatly upon her back.

Celestia wished her mind could be farther away.

And haltingly, Sorrel recounted how Discord had smiled, how he had laughed and looked at her like a wolf looked at a sheep.

He told Sorrel that she was fat.

He laughed too, when he said that. He said that she was a fat little mare and prodded her stomach with a claw while Sorrel shook and squeaked, frozen in fear on the ground.

Sorrel, standing in front of Celestia in her once-lovely white dress, thought it odd, between her coughs and sobs, that Discord did not know a pregnant mare when he saw one.

Having known Discord long before, Celestia was not surprised.

Discord laughed over Sorrel like she was the punchline in the greatest joke ever. He told her over and over again how she was such a fat little mare, and how silly it was for her to stuff her face while her precious husband was risking his life. How ungrateful she was. How pathetic. Mostly, how silly it was that a pony should be confined to a house just because she was a mare, and that he found the ponies of the north to be so silly for such things.

If she was a stallion, he told her, she would not have to be confined to stuffing herself all day and sitting on her rear end getting fatter.

She felt a paw pressed to her forehead, the barest translucent glow about it, and if she had been farther away, she knew she wouldn't have caught it at all. But, Sorrel told Celestia, what really seemed to hold power was how 'the monster' had snapped his talon.

The aura on his paw faded, and he started to fade too.

The last thing Sorrel saw of him was his smile hanging in the air, but even that vanished quickly enough.

She told Celestia about the flash that followed, the poof and...

"Oh, Your Majesty," Sorrel's woeful tone struck, "the pain was unbearable — it was like blinking, I-I just... opened mine eyes, trying to not feel so stunned, so pained... mine body..." Sorrel paused for a shuddering breath, "How it felt for just that second, made me think about Maple chopping trees, and for that second I was the tree and this awful magic the axe."

Celestia just nodded. It was the good thing to do.

"And then..." Sorrel's stallion-voice was thin with fear. "I felt..."

With one of her forehooves, she reached out to rest one on her belly, eyes hazy with tears and dread as she had to realize what wasn't there anymore. Who wasn't.

That time, Celestia had to gently pry the kerchief out of Sorrel's hoof and gingerly dab at a few of the tears silently working their way down Sorrel's square muzzle to her strong jaw. The action was blind, done when Celestia looked out of the corner of her eyes, making her only perspective of Sorrel that which she could piece together through the sideways glances of her rose-colored eyes.

Dimming her horn, Celestia pressed the hoofkerchief back into Sorrel's shaking forehoof.

"What happened after that? Did your husband find you?" The second question was a foal's question; Celestia had only about a half dozen reactions she had to choose from in all the stories of these situations that she had guided her ponies through. Horrible, horrible tales with answers that left her hollow when she gave them.

After so long living, Celestia had decided that answers were far worse than questions.

If her mind was a meadow, and every question a flower, those flowers only bloomed in the shade, among the wild things. To her, it was best to stick to what little patch of sunshine and sweetgrass she had, making sure it was the perfect place for herself and everypony else she saw fit to share it with, keeping them safe and happy.

"Maple found me a-and..."

Solemnly, Celestia suggested the only watered-down answer that she could bear to use. "He was not happy to see you, was he Sorrel?"

The haunted gaze of the mare made Celestia's chest clench. "He was not..." she whispered, "Maple looked at me like he was the ax, Princess."

Celestia, always, wished she knew what to say that was good instead of true, and would bring these ponies healing every time they needed it.

"That made me the tree."

More silence. She tried to make it seem natural, and Sorrel looked at her like it was a patient silence instead of a fearful one.

"He looked at me like I was no longer the young maiden who stood before him on our wedding day in the town square, with a pretty dress and mine mane in curls... I-I apologize for rambling, p-princess."

"Do not be," Celestia whispered. "Please."

Celestia remembered the last pony who came to her like this was a unicorn 'mare' who could just barely roll up the leg of his trousers to reveal the burn scars from a traumatized and stunned wife with a pyromantic magical disposition as he recounted his own tale, of what led up to his transformation. He had tried to defend the streets of the mighty walled stronghold of Canterlote, and was one of the reasons why the great city did not fall in Discord's brief and anarchic reign. Celestia also remembered that he was terrified at the possibility of his wife becoming estranged from him, and how deeply conflicted he was over what happened to him and what his feelings were in regard to their relationship, and what that made him.

He had wanted her help, and unfortunately, that was the one thing that Celestia could not give...

Did Sorrel have scars under her skirt, below the dirt that was caking her coat?

With her mind a million miles away, seemingly frozen, Princess Celestia heard herself say something about how Sorrel would be safe and protected, and asking her about how she made her journey here once she had fled from her husband and family. The latter were too terrified to take in the mare who was supposed to be their daughter, hollow-eyed and miserable, believing she was corrupted. Common ponies always believed the curses of chaos to be contagious, and this was something Luna saw fit to bring up to Celestia often enough.

She heard Sorrel mash a few words together and string up a couple of excuses of a stuttering response of how she had to beg for places to stay, how the rain chilled her to bone, and how she traveled with grazing, foraging, tossed scraps, and half-dead crops as her only food. The world had overwhelmed her, she said, she wanted only to be a loved housewife again instead of begging for corn standing among pigs and stumbling in the vague direction of the Everfree, hoping with all her heart to find royal guards who she could speak to and beg for an audience with Princess Celestia, who was now closer than her home had ever been. Sorrel's very last hope. Her fellow ponies had begun to terrify her.

Celestia, who listened with a kindly expression still, knew that must be exactly what Sorrel did. More begging.

Celestia always was the last resort for these ponies, and she did not like that for reasons she could never bear to say.

How many of her ribs would We see under that dress of hers?

She did not ask why Sorrel had not sold her mane-net in desperation, for it was clearly gold despite the damage her journey had wrecked upon it, and how her stringy mane was all tangled up inside the closer Celestia looked at. She did not ask because it was like the pocket watch of the unicorn stallion with the burn scars, or the other tattered and tarnished keepsakes that these ponies all bore before her, so distinctly masculine or feminine. So clearly treasured.

One mare, who spoke before her not so long ago was a mare of the earth presented by the guards as a 'stallion' out of innocent ignorance. She had been so desperate for even an extra scrap of her identity that she had used her knowledge of natural remedies and creations to create natural cosmetics to wear as she spoke before Celestia. The end result had appeared much like what Sorrel wore right now.

Dying sobs echoed around them both, and Sorrel looked up at the princess-goddess with wide, pleading eyes in the gaunt face. "Princess Celestia, I have come all this way, waiting to hear anything about mine horrid condition. In all the time I have wandered from mine home, taking laborious hoofsteps away from the only place I have ever known, I have grown lost. This world was not the world a housewife was to know, and I want to be that housewife again — I know, princess, that I am that mare. I have lost mine foal..." she sniffed, shuddering, "I lost mine baby and... and... I feel all cut up inside, always. Princess, I used to laugh and feel things other than this constant terror. Before Discord, I had never known hunger or anything harsh."

Celestia did not want to have to give the answer she knew she was going to have to give all over again.

"Mine whole world feels like the fine plates mine mother used to have propped above the mantle. You know the plates, surely, princess? They are the ones with scenes of old tribal queens and the wilds carved in them, all the legends of us pony-folk poured into those glazed lines. I feel like those plates, only, if the plates were cantered upon and half their shards swept into a glass jar, where they are shaken constantly. That awful noise is all I feel in mine head, and they are this voice I cannot recognize no matter how much I speak. All those cuts against the glass are mine heart's attempts to beat against this wrong body, princess, I just know it."

Sorrel tilted her head in a way that brought her meek gaze to those of the princess for just a moment. "I want mine dress to fit again. I have yearned for mine husband's smile. The absence of mine foal's kicks is maddening. I can barely come up with acceptable ways to arrange what is left of this tangle of a mane that I have half a mind to just rip from this wretched body. Every look in a mirror is... Princess, it feels like I am feeling all I felt when there was news of s-starvation, of anarchy. Except, it is all on the inside, and I cannot pull myself out because this cursed body is a cage. Mine own body, with this now-sick heart and wings I took mine first flight with... and e-everything is not supposed to be a stallion's body. I am a mare rotting in a stallion's cage and I have screamed for any chance to get out. I have cried so much I feel forsaken by every god but the one before me. I know that when mine mother looked at me, she saw a filly, and a filly I am supposed to be, never this. I know that inside I am not just Sorrel Lace, I am Mare, and I am supposed to be forever Mare."

Her words were as wild as her eyes, and yet Celestia had contained herself remarkably, like the cold of a statue, all stately and regal.

"Yet," Sorrel said with a crying tone like the whine of a door hinge, "every time I am called Stallion, I feel withered and kicked, no matter the innocence of the words. I am dragged about by this mockery of mine own legs. Sleep does not find me, if I remember it at all, and mine whole body shakes. 'Stallion' is the worst of curses, the vilest word ever written upon mine heart. I no longer want it to fall from mine tongue, but every time I say mare and try to feel the life of mine foal, I see the eyes of that monster, I feel hurt and everything impossible. I am reminded of the cold, the ache in mine stomach, the tears that always find me, and how no word I say feels right anymore." There was that pained swallow again and then a whisper, "this voice hurts worse than a knife or a box of the ears."

Princess Celestia couldn't meet Sorrel's gaze directly. "You, like many others, seek for what Discord has done to be reversed." Why she never called Discord a monster — she couldn't bring herself to; not yet — but was so set and liberal with calling him so many other things. This warped his legacy into a boogey creature to be feared by foals and adults alike, Celestia wasn't certain as to why she did that. Or, if she was, she wished to bury it and call it uncertainty.

Sorrel sniffled, and a dying ember of something almost shone in her hollow, fearful eyes. To call it 'hope' would be a great hyperbole. "More than anything, Princess. You need only tell me what must be done to make myself whole again, for in this body I cannot live. As your mere subject, I shall consent to it. You have all the gratitude I could ever know for this," Sorrel said, slipping into the practiced curtsy of a well-bred mare and flexed her wings carefully. "Thank you," she whispered with a voice that was choking back tears. "To have mine body be mine again, to be usable, and to not think of j-just c-chopping off parts when this madness is most potent."

Behind her perfect, empathetic exterior, Celestia felt like her heart was a pillar that had been pushed over, and now everything else crashed down with it, even if it did not show. She was the one who had to maintain strength, to rule Equestria, and though she would always strive to be kind and good, she could never let anypony ever see her crumble.

She was their princess first, and always a princess first.

"Sorrel Lace, you have endured nothing short of torture on your way here, requesting only that somepony treat you with kindness and the understanding any pony like you deserves. Hearing stories from others like you is not any easier for Us, and We have always loathed being the bearer of such grim news," she touched Sorrel's wither lightly, but without familiarity, as she did with many ponies, and her voice grew softer, "there is no magic in the world, save for Discord's own that can instantaneously undo the transformation he forced upon you. We have had to stand before the few of Our dear little ponies who have endured this particular treatment, for the physical scars and deaths that Discord has caused art few for the former, and none in the case of the latter. This has never been harder: any magical procedures that might undo something like this, even gradually, art not even dreams..." Celestia sighed heavily, and admitted with great reluctance, "...if anything like it could be done at all, such a fanciful and elaborate procedure would always be something only the far future might know, but this... it is all beyond the power of any pony, any creature... and yes, that includes Us..."

Celestia did not have to look at Sorrel to know that she was crying. Small sobs were half-muffled in the air and sounded like they had to be forced from Sorrel's body with invisible kicks. To hear that not even a goddess' magic could be of any help was an internal, hidden blow to Celestia.

Slowly, Celestia withdrew her hoof from where she had lain it upon Sorrel's wither. "Ponies like you, and almost like you have not been neglected by the crown, Sorrel. There art many ponies who art born as magic made you, knowing they art not who they should be on the outside, and having to live with that. Though this is a rare phenomenon, these ponies still have jobs, homes, and families. Where Our words fail, there art others who can aide a mare such as you, to help keep you on the right path because you art still one of Our subjects and your welfare and safety have always mattered. Do We appear to you like some fabled tyrant?"

"N-No, princess..." Sorrel whispered weakly.

Looking upon Sorrel with the same gentle worry she showed so many ponies, Princess Celestia offered the last words of comfort she had. They were almost the same as she told other ponies with similar conditions, but she meant them every time. To see others suffer was a gnawing fear, and a horrid sight. But when it came to the less common ponies, the eccentric, the unjustly shunned, and any other faction of her harmonious society that privately puzzled her, Celestia was at a loss that she would never admit to. Such a thing would give ponies reason for fear and hurt, which she simply could not allow.

"Disaster strikes us all, little pony. We shall try to contact your family eventually, but if they art... unaccepting, do not be afraid to move on and find another whom you can confide in. Your healing is paramount, and in Canterlote there art ponies like you gathered in their own collective home, with compassionate doctors and sorcerers who art always working to understand and help a mare such as yourself. Their research and therapies remain afloat with donations from the public and funding from the crown as well. All focus is on rehabilitation. You need not worry about stability, for such is a constant there. There shall always be a roof over thine head, and food to eat. Wouldst thou wish to be escorted to Canterlote and see this home for yourself? Or to perhaps even stay temporarily? 'Twould be horrid to send you elsewhere when your distress is clear."

After a long pause, Sorrel nodded weakly as a doll does, her eyes frozen with a horror Celestia could not quite understand the depths of.

But Celestia still offered a welcoming smile. "Sorrel Lace, We know you to be just as much of a mare as We art. Thou can heal, just as Equestria has. Ponies shall be patient with you, for there is no cruelty from this haven thou need fear, truly. Thou art welcome to write whenever you find yourself able — We may be a princess, but a letter is a comfort to anypony, regardless of station. Would you be willing to write me a letter about your stay once you have stayed for a few sunrises, to see how it is? Let us say a week? As a friend?"

It took some time for Sorrel to nod, and Celestia was puzzled how those eyes kept the mortal mare frozen in a world Celestia was unable to pull her from. Her breathing was as shaky as the movements of her forelegs, one of which she lifted slowly, as though it were heavy to brush against the tangles of her mane in a poor attempt to move them. The rustling of her tattered skirt was almost defeating in comparison.

But Sorrel still nodded, and Celestia breathed a breath of relief, drawing one of her gold-shod forehooves from her chest and pushing out.

"We await thine reply with bated breath," Celestia said, smiling as she nudged Sorrel along, snapping the nervous mare out of her spell and getting her to start her slow walk towards where she had entered the throne room.

Celestia, clinging to the optimism of recovery for a mare as young as Sorrel Lace, thought it would be best to personally guide Sorrel to the guards who had to lead her inside.

It was what a good friend would do.


...


The trip to Canterlote on hoof took a few sunrises, but Celestia was pleased to find a letter from the head of the group of guards that had escorted Sorrel to the community haven among the rest of her daily letters and other papers — petitions and the sort. Knowing Sorrel was somewhere safe brought a smile to her face. That same something that couldn't be said of Princess Luna, who spent every waking moment with a blurry presence, like a half-faded ghost and largely silent.
Celestia would have enjoyed hearing from Sorrel. The Castle of the Two Sisters was the undisputed and official capital of Equestria, but it seemed that, the steadily thriving citadel, thought itself the nation's capital in spirit. This was despite the fact that Canterlote was a primarily unicorn city. What would a country wife like Sorrel Lace think of a grand place like Canterlote?

But she was content enough with not getting a letter, and waited. Sorrel would want to settle in first — so many, ah, 'surprises' were not going to be good for the poor mare. Even Celestia herself had come to resent such things, albeit in a silent, distant way — she was not a mare to be bitter.

The week for Sorrel to learn of her new home came around, and even in the whirlwind of duty, she still thought of the mare in the back of her mind.

The first day, Celestia found herself thinking of the chambers there — Celestia had seen them herself, making sure they were comfortable and bright. Each window had lovely, if homely curtains, and was fitted with a window box. Residents could choose to grow whatever kinds of flowers they wished — the markets of Canterlote had a selection like no other, of course. Celestia herself loved to visit them, and see all the foreign seeds and bulbs from places like Prancia, the Ottomare Empire, the Kingdom of Germane, the Mustainian States, and more. She often tried to find any excuse to get away from the castle, Everfree Forest, and gloomy mute Luna to get supplies for her hidden courtyards. Which kind of plant would be Sorrel's favorite?

The second day, when Celestia was still groggy as she began her morning — it was always Luna who rose so unnaturally early — and had yet to bring the dawn. She looked among her dresses, trying to decide in her morning haze if she would like to wear one today, and which one. She hazily recalled Sorrel, in her tattered white dress like a dollop of slush in her mind. What would she be doing today? A letter would take a short while — perhaps a day or so — to reach Celestia from Canterlote, but if Sorrel were to pen a letter today, what would she write about? Perhaps she would want a new dress and was chatting with a new friend over possible styles. There was nothing like a common bond to help a pony overcome some of the shyness Sorrel seemed to possess.

On the third day, Celestia enjoyed her time in the walled and hidden castle gardens more than usual. All her favorite flowers were in bloom, showing off all her hard work to... her... just her. She selected a few for a friendly bouquet to send to Sorrel — azaleas, Bells of Trotland, carnations, and chrysanthemum flowers, all picked fresh from her enchanted courtyard and ready to be pressed into a thoughtful trinket. She wrote to Sorrel again, asking her about how she was finding everything and if she liked flowers too. Princess Celestia told Sorrel about how dreary the wild and unusual Everfree Forest could be. She wrote of how it was impossible to maintain a civilized garden in such a place, and that if she ever had a castle all to herself, it would be a bright, sunny place with acres of spectacular gardens. She even did something uncharacteristically personal. Princess Celestia confided that one day, she would like to have some friendly staff to help around the castle instead of living all alone with her sister. Though, she didn't say anything about Luna other than that.

Philomena would certainly enjoy being able to bother a cook or a maid. Celestia sent her letter with a smile on her face, flowers included along with the teasing pen name of 'Sunflower' even though Sorrel would know exactly who she was.

Sometimes, Celestia thought it would be nice to be a mare as simple as the name 'Sunflower' suggested. She didn't write that though.

Celestia spent the fourth day of her week as a princess should: attending to her duties, sparing time only for falconry with Philomena. With towns being nonexistent in the Everfree, and the forest itself surrounded by grassland, hills, and other unoccupied places meant that anywhere nearby would be too out of the way, and she simply couldn't whisk herself to the closest cities unannounced. More often, she had to plan her departures when she went in search of local holidays that may require a royal presence. She tried to do so as often as possible, since parties called to her in all the same ways loneliness gnawed at her and left her desperate. Princess Celestia enjoyed walking among her ponies... sometimes, she even did so in disguise.

But she didn't get any letters that day.

On the fifth day, Celestia ran into Princess Luna at dusk. Literally.

"What is it that has caused you to run about from shadow to shadow in such a hurry?" Celestia said, voice somewhat scolding when she regained her composure. Princess Luna was nothing short of a recluse torn between silence and her own brand of temper. Celestia, unfortunately, found herself well-acquainted with the other mare's terse, blunt, unfriendly, and just... queer ways. That was how everypony would describe Luna, and Celestia could see why — she never humbled herself or had the good manner to be dim over divine. She refused to contain how different she was and was so obviously a goddess in magical power instead of a label granted in the eyes of mortal ponies. Celestia readily embraced those kinds of titles, the ones that praised her heroics and kindness instead of making it obvious she was an alien being — a reality that was best left untouched and unaddressed.

An air of insolence that only Celestia knew some extent of was buried in Luna, who even silent was as much as a presence as spilled ink on fresh parchment, and she saw it in their fights. To the public, Celestia was a rose, and they loved the vivid blossom the period ballads made her out to be. The sonnets of every stallion who wished to be her suitor were quick to use the popular comparison. Celestia would smile a small, polite smile as she listened to how the gesture was as 'soft as petals' or 'warm as sunlight' and any other comparison to find its way into an amateur poet's mind.

Luna was a briar to ponies, but she was not mentioned in poetry, or at least none that was ever widely known to the public. Not a single popular ballad ever made reference to her the way they did for Princess Celestia. Once or twice since the fall of Discord, a stallion with riches or wanting them was bold enough to look at the other sister, the 'Celestia's sister' the 'dusky maid' or 'younger sister' of all the legends, to see the mare of the night who was an outline of a royal. Oh, how Luna turned all the stallion-suitors away. She was all thorns, and though she was of the age, such arrangements were custom in the Founder's Equestria, and with Celestia's permission sealed as long as he shall live, Celestia had witnessed Luna begging her tearfully to not have her married, because the even rarer suitor then still had his eyes on her... or at least, parts of her.

Celestia was not that kind of sister. Though she did not like Luna and did think her somewhat privileged, she always refused her sister's suitors too. Because Luna said so, and because no matter what era in history, there wasn't a pony alive who deserved such treatment. In fact, Princess Celestia was strongly considering outlawing all kinds of arranged and political marriages within Equestria — especially if it would stop yet another kind of conflict with Luna.

Luna was rather spoiled, and it was in the fights that nopony knew about that Celestia, Rose of Equestria, made it known that she had thorns at all. Luna never liked the dresses Celestia was careful to order for their appearances. Luna was aloof at the holidays the sisters appeared at. When a brave pony was to be knighted, she offered him all the warmth of snow. She never made idle chat.

But here was Celestia, bumping into her own shadow.

Everything about Celestia's shadow was strange, but then again, she barely talked to it. Luna's body language was odd. Though she lurked about, she stood ready for something, as agile as her hoofsteps were silent, despite her permanent vigilance. However, her mysterious eyes were always so sad looking for some reason or another, were wild and filled with shock. She was clearly startled as to why Celestia was talking to her, and Celestia to think the same. This young mare was eerie in the way that she was so wild and un-pony-like. Always delving into magic, sometimes disappearing to the frontier, the list went on.

Yet that was how Luna had always been, and old displeasure always rippled through Celestia at how Luna just never seemed to grow up... but it was a source of frustration she dare not pry too deeply into. The last time that happened...

"Is there something wrong?" Celestia's tone still held the same authority, the same regal bearing that she showed her ponies. "I see no cause for your clumsiness, unless thou art ill. Should I reschedule tomorrow’s feast with the King and Queen of Prancia?"

It was rare for them to have daily exchanges. More than that, it rarer even for Luna to initiate conversation, or for Celestia to tell her things that were anything more than a whispered order or murmur to mind herself, to keep with customs, to smile a little. Or at all.

Luna simply shook her head 'no' and lit her horn to adjust the thick spellbook that she had tucked under her wing. Loose sheets of paper scribbled with notes Celestia couldn't catch in the dim hall's light were shoved and folded between the pages of thick parchment. She tilted her head to the side and looked at Celestia.

"...Do you need something?" she said, voice low and hardly audible. The sound of a door opening at the farthest end of the hall would have been louder.

No, they had just bumped into one another during the dusk hours. Luna was often active through the nights while Celestia slept, something that had not happened during the pre-war times. There would be some weeks when she slept not at all, doing what she wished in the night hours, always alone, to take advantage of one of divinity's many blessings. Being able to forgo sleep, to some extent, was something that Princess Celestia preferred to utilize for work, if at all. Whatever Luna used it for... well, it was likely frivolous.

"I do need something of you — the mare that I sent to Canterlote barely a few sunrises ago, Sorrel Lace, do you remember her well enough?"

"A little; appearances art not everything I need to go off. You wish for me to find her?"

"I do, ensure that she is well. I am expecting mail from her soon... or I was. Do not frighten her with your manner, and if she is being mistreated, alert me immediately. I have trusted the safe spaces of Canterlote with dozens of ponies in the past — if she proves to be an exception, I shall hold whoever brings such evil to the vulnerable responsible. That is all I need of you." Celestia gave one short look to Luna's book. "Did you have plans?"

Luna nodded.

"Then they shall have to be put aside, and that shall be done at once. There is another land dispute with the buffalo that need to be resolved too. A small group of earth pony farmers has destroyed a burial ground on accident, and the buffalo are understandably upset. Their chief has requested to speak with me but I cannot have the number of supplies I will need to be packed in such a short time. I certainly will not be able to have a new gown commissioned for the occasion by the time the meeting is to be had. You know how the buffalo are, too. They do not appreciate such signs of high culture the way my little ponies do — and their territories are ever so far for me."

Luna's eyes widened just a little. "Destroying a burial ground on 'accident' is the excuse that is being suggested? How is it that a group could damage something so plainly marked that even the sands of the arid south exaggerate their presence? These ponies art blundering foals to manage such idiocy when it is within the buffalo cultures to have obvious sacred spaces. Tell me, was it after the first plot was destroyed or the eighth that they realized they were vandalizing a sacred burial ground?"

Celestia shot Luna a hawkish look that she had mastered from her years as a young mare among the unicorn tribe. It was one of the few things about her other than her height that she allowed to show off how truly imposing she could be, if needed.

Luna knew this look. She lowered her ears, ducked her gaze back under her bangs, and shifted away from Celestia slightly.

"Mine ponies art not fools. A single pony may be a fool, but many ponies art not, nor will they ever be. I shall be dealing with this dispute accordingly, if you continue to behave this way. You art going to Canterlote to find Sorrel Lace. Anypony in your position should not have such a low opinion of these good ponies that work and live under the skies we maintain. Am I clear?"

"Verily. Though, if the catacombs of Maris had been damaged by buffalo living in your kingdom, you would express disgust over the actions of the buffalo first. Here, you are blaming those who are vict—"

"What have I always said?" Celestia neglected to add 'since you were a filly' this time. She didn't want to...

"Ponies art mostly good."

Celestia smiled, trying to brush off Luna's remark instead of debating utterly baseless accusations of xenophobia, especially when it was Luna who was so obviously in the wrong. "And?"

Luna remained unreadable. "'Tis just another lie of yours." She held up a wing when Celestia opened her mouth to protest such a blatant falsehood. "There is a trip I must be making according to Her Royal Highness, thus I must prepare myself for travel."

With that spoken in an almost mild tone, Luna began her walk away, and Celestia did not stop her except for:

"You did not offer a good-bye."

And from down the hall, she received: "Farewell, princess," spoken with a quiet, lukewarm tone, largely unremarkable if it were said by a common pony and not Luna's peculiar cadence.

What Celestia had said had been an observation, not a request.

She walked on, not needing to look back at Luna, and let the night begin.

On the sixth day, Celestia attended to her schedule. She enjoyed her day and attending to all that was required to keep Equestria standing for another day — not that there was too much to worry about with Discord being imprisoned — and enjoyed some more time in her private garden, Philomena perched on her back and listening to Celestia sing so everything didn't feel so quiet. Even paperwork was better than silence, but that was a silly comparison, since Celestia didn't mind paperwork much. She retired early, not bothering to look at the moon rising above the forest.

On the seventh day, Celestia maintained the castle and Equestria with Philomena at her side, reviewing scrolls, writing speeches for upcoming events, partaking in tea with a Mustangian minotaur diplomat. She chatted happily with visiting Maretonian nobility until their departure, and sneaking in a half-hour of light reading a melodramatic novel revolving around a group of young mares who desperately wished to attend a ball to woo fine stallions. She only half paid attention to it, and that was mostly because Philomena kept pecking at the pages, especially when she drifted off into thought (a rare occurrence) to ponder if she could fit dancing lessons into a schedule as busy as hers. Would it be possible to convince a tutor to live in the wicked Everfree Forest with her?

And as she sat in the throne room, having just lowered the sun to make way for dusk and because her throne room was comfortable enough for her to scribble out a few slight concerns about a future meeting date.

Luna walked into the throne room, clad in her black cloak, one of her newer blades sheathed at her side, and saddlebags on her back. She said not a word and waited for a very confused Celestia to look up from her papers — which she did, after a moment — looking about with her confusion apparent.

"Where is Sorrel Lace? Has something happened to her?"

Luna nodded silently. Celestia could not see her face under her hood, only the wings, horn, and legs of Princess Luna were visible through her cloak, still dusty from her journey.

Now Celestia felt worried too. "What happened to her? Could you not find her? You knew exactly where to go, and I did tell you all you needed to know for your journey, so what is it that has prevented you from safely escorting Madam Lace through the Everfree Forest? You are stronger than any guard, or any pony! A mare who uses her magic so freely should know how to keep her safe, so why is she not here? Do you at least have a letter from her?"

"No," Luna said, and it was almost as though that one word took effort for her to say. She lit her horn, turquoise aura shining in the dim throne room as the light of dusk shone through where it could, and she reached into her signature saddlebags. They were the very same ones that once held her Elements of Harmony. From within, Luna withdrew a single object with her telekinesis.

It was only part of a whole object, but it was testament enough to Sorrel Lace's whereabouts.

Celestia stifled a gasp by clasping her forehoof over her mouth, unable to look for too long, but it was there, in front of her.

In Luna's magic was part of a thick, frayed rope — and it had clearly been cut away from something strong, like a beam.
> Nopony's Sister [Original Version] [One Shot] [Bonus Material]
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

A black-cloaked figure galloped through the Everfree Forest at top speed. Only the flutter of air was left behind, so that nopony might see the height, build, and other defining features of the one who would dare run through a forest in night hours. Who but the few mad ponies who gazed upon the stars and monsters that the sun’s banished light would dare linger after dusk? More than half of the population of this young and terrible nation lived by the sun, shutting themselves up as soon as dusk fell. It was in pony nature to shun that which was irregular to any existence that deviated from being like a spoke in a wheel — no matter how harmless those differences may be.

Yet, if anypony were up, roaming the enchanted woods where only two gods lived, and did glimpse this particular runaway — yes, they were a runaway — they would likely miss all the details. Only the telltale whoosh of air and flutter of black fabric in the night and cry out that they had seen a monster! While there would be no burning of tomorrow’s accursed witch of the day when Princess Celestia’s day comes, there would be accusations all the same. These are but ponies, after all, and ponies are brutes. They only polish themselves up for their history-writing the way a peasant may force themselves more ignorantly into dirt all hours but dinner time. Only then might they wash — or at the very least, pretend that clean hooves were involved in the whole affair. Platinum’s rule and the First Equestrian Triarchy’s antics were just the most recent example of this ill spirit. No matter how unified the tribes have become, they are merely racially united in prejudice against all other species. This was not so when Tirek stomped across their old home, a northern basin now lost to the snow.

But, if a pony did somehow see this figure? Well, then they would see no wings, no horn, and barely any legs — and would be unable to make out the trace of a dark coat. Their eyes would be too weak to note much else, as their lack of night-eyes has always weakened their sight as soon as shadows lapped at the horizon.

A pony would see that the speed I moved at, but no more. All that was obvious about me was the swiftness that was so unnatural to them. This would confirm that I was no pony, and have done well in concealing myself, if all they were to see of me is where I have been.

I had abandoned the regal boots of my station and was careful to flare my wings as little as possible except to alight myself from whatever gnarled branch of a gnarled Everfree tree is able to support my weight. While good scouts — or even competent ones — number next to none, I wish to leave nothing that could be tracked by all but the most adept unicorn mages in distant Canterlote. Magical scouting before the other gods vanished was said to be a grand art, one of the finest sorceries a unicorn could master. Now, it has been reduced to a herd of earth ponies shaking a whole forest and stamping about the plains in the name of ‘stealth’ they do not have.

And they think that they can catch me, who they barely know to be a god!

Even if something was found — like a lock of my distinct mane that I have so carefully tucked away — it would be some time before Princess Celestia would be able to summon them. By the time such simpering hounds of pony-scouts are summoned, Equestria would be long behind me. My magic is unmatched by any mortal who has ever walked this world and my strength unrivaled now that I have the skill to temper it, so that none but a creature out of the legends of another world that disappeared with my family — could hope to drag me back to that horrid sprawl of a palace.

I settle into the crook of a large branch and draw a few deep breaths. As soon as I am certain that I am bathed in shadow once more, I start to shake with sobs. Even starlight and untamed winds of cold night air cannot budge the Everfree. It is a primal sanctum of a fortress from ponies, who think themselves all that the world will ever be — or that they could tame what has stood before the gods walked. Her Royal Highness loathes it — our own home, keeping her from her ‘precious’ social contact with such vile creatures — as ponies once loathed the two of us. They still loathe my domain with as much hate as they show the natural world in all its feral truth. Except, their hate towards all that I am and have is one of the few things they are honest about. Even their malice towards buffalo, griffons, dragons, and other creatures is poor rhetoric to disguise their malicious hippocentrism.

I feel safest in a forest where travelers are commonly eaten alive more than I do in my own bed. None of this changes how my own thoughts sink their teeth into me. To have no sanctuary in my own mind hurts more than the condemnation of mortals ever could — I used to be safe here, now I find myself just as eager to keep myself from wellness as others wish I would.

Her presence felt so inescapable. For centuries I could not bring myself to leave her, no matter how bad each worsening falling out was… part of me still wanted to believe that I was the younger sister of Princess Celestia, that we still cared, and that all these wounds would heal with time and effort — or anything…

At long last, she is out of my head for the first time in centuries — and I can only feel how fear chills my blood? All this time, I have wished that I loved her not, and when it has waned enough I am left feeling torn to tatters by my own sick stomach!

But all my wishes and pleas — centuries of them — have been in vain. The sun is not in the sky, nay, she looms over me and burns. Unfortunately, I am too close to her, lying in her scorching grip and forever staring beyond her plaster smile and screaming to have my sister back. And why is this so? Because to pull me away from the one who I could remember no time without an unthinkable act for far too long.

Decades ago, it would have felt so treasonous… and yet when I finally began to ask myself why it would…

...or if I should really feel so guilty when...

Every ‘reason’ I ever had to stay began to crumble away. With each painfully real cause for me to desert her, it became clear that there was no true reason for me to stay — and that felt far scarier than remaining in her shadow, doomed to voice nothing and suffer the horrible thoughts that only the solitude eased.

I looked upward, pondering where I should go. Would it be north, where only wasteland and the closed Yakyakistani stronghold cities await, though they accept no visitors? Shall I head south, where mortals spill blood over attempts to claim stability, forever unaware of the irony behind the act? Perhaps I might even fly to the island-rich eastern sea in hopes of finding the lost Western Continents. I hear that the Roaman Empire founded in mortal folly fell because of it, and now they are no more than squabbling maritime republics. As backward as the idea of a republic is, I imagine that there might truly be something worth seeing in the land. Now that I was truly running away — to freedom, peace, and everything that could never be found with her — I would need to head somewhere where I would have everywhere to go.

I flipped the hood of my cloak back and flexed so the night air might stir my feathers. My night’s breeze is a cool reassurance blowing against my face. Next, I fly over to the tallest tree to grow on the rocky outcroppings and wooded hills that are abundant in this part of the Everfree. Each emerges right before the foothills grow into the smaller peaks beside the great Canterhorn.

Once I found myself a suitable perch where I could survey the sprawling enchanted wood spread out beneath my clear, cloudless night sky and surrounded by plains and lesser woods for many miles. It was a painter’s dream and a particularly adventurous surveyor’s paradise — the artists and the explorers; they were the sorts that I sponsored. Meanwhile, Her Highness tried to funnel all the funds I scraped together towards her political brown-muzzles and petty laborers. I was left with only more meager funds for the artists, adventurers, acting tropes, craftsponies, and independent magical prodigies to whom I chose to be the patron of. These were the ones who ‘helped’ none, according to Her Highness and her supporters, but I always insisted they enriched us all.

If only my words could fall on something more than deaf ears. Can nopony care?

Pushing thoughts of my subjects away was always something I wished was easier. Eventually, I managed to do so — ‘twas like how these brutish quacks Princess Celestia deemed doctors cut away a peasant’s warts.

Over the course of my two-millennia-long life, I have seen much of the surprisingly consistent but vast Northern Continent to the point where only my intuition and divine memory is needed to guide me around places I have not seen in centuries. I had little need or want for maps when my own mental visions would suffice and outshine what was little more than scribbles in comparison.

The north was both a strange and realistic option, as much as it terrified me. I had little knowledge of the highlands ruled by the Trottish clans and their budding moor kingdom. This was save for two experiences.

The first was of the much, much farther basin vale that the three tribes called their own. Now it was a completely inhospitable and unnatural waste. All that it was home to were the frozen corpses of those who stayed behind during the exodus and the windigos that now called it home. Those frozen spirits frolicked around the icy bones of those who had not been entombed within splintered tombs while huddling or galloping away.

There was another valley nearby… one where one wizard had a tower and his four apprentices. I was never going back there; Tia died there.

But was the second really the worse option?

Saving the Crystal Empire had been the biggest failure of Princess Celestia and me, as well as the first great foe we faced together as Equestrians… only for King Sombra to separate us. He was more terrifying than the Old World sanctum city that was hidden only by the wintery elements themselves. It was not because of all I had seen there, but because I had seen something of him.

The way we had talked, how he spoke, fought, and simply existed gave me chills. Even now, I still shivered at the thought of such a dark enigma.

His magic was able to magic mine, as was the rest of him. Even to this day, I have doubted if he was truly a foe and why it was so hard to forget the two crimson eyes that glared at me from the depths of some shared madness. He was a mortal, but felt like anything but that. As soon as I laid eyes on him, it felt as though I had located the center of the world.

I had more than enough chances to kill him, as I was ordered to. I could not bring myself to end a life that only defied — and felt as if it had continued to do so in order to live.

Sometimes when I tarry alone like this, musing on all, I feel haunted.

If the chance I gave him — one I am not sure either of us will remember as time unleashes hidden machinations come to light upon us both, wherever he may be beneath the ice — does indeed amount to something perhaps I might see him again in the world. Stars know how long such an improbable meeting will be.

Or hopefully, hopefully, all this unwanted and eerie fascination will end and I shall feel no need to look upon him and ask him what secrets he has kept… if he remembers.

‘Tis unlikely the one creature I wish to speak to now, one as miserable as I am, would ever remember me. The raw divine magic Princess Celestia and I used to seal him are still subject to the same fundamentals as all other magic in this world. To be made immaterial, anchored, and displaced in time does not preserve memory or mental stability. He shall likely be insane, and even with that aside… to be displaced in time is a lethal matter. Any mortal being to come out of it will perish shortly, as all my magic books in the castle library have made clear. Exactly what the dread king did to that empire of his, I know not. His magic is beyond my ken and whether those peculiar crystalline ponies shall live or die if they could ever be fetched from the depths of the unseen is something I cannot answer.

Why is it that the one creature I have felt any connection to since my sister is none other than King Sombra? We exchanged so few words, and yet I would give up all the conversations I have had with hundreds of ponies in order to have a few minutes with him, just so that I may see somepony who feels as I do.

What must that say about me?

I am flecking faster than paint along a rowboat in a hurricane the longer I spend around ponies. The company of those Princess Celestia prefers has grown painful, and desperately overstimulating. All at once, I am thrust into unbearable loneliness and desperately seeking escape each time I stand around them.

“Oh, this all sounds so dreadful!” I sob into my forehooves. “Is this loyalty, however strange it feels, or a curse?”

I only want to know of his magic and his story, nothing more. Yet such an opportunity is a lost one and fifty years later I still mourn thoughts that I cannot banish because I must know — why?

It was what I had asked him, but I only ended up more lost with each exchange we had made. I feel that there is an answer in his magic — how strange and enviable it seemed! Since then, anything like it has become illegal. Yet, there has still never been anything quite like it since the Crystal Empire fell — and his attributes are not those that can be found on any other. None have curved horns or eyes that stream unearthly smoke as he did. As unnatural as that power was, talking about it would be a welcome distraction. I have not had a reason or want to welcome anything in a long time.

I sigh — a dreary sound — and try to lift my spirits and heavy heart by focusing on the darkened horizon, glad to have privacy from even the stars on this night.

The southern continent was intact from whatever catastrophe shook the world when I was young, despite bearing the brunt of every catastrophe. That was the news we heard from many travelers over the centuries, for neither the princess nor I have traveled so far south on our royal duties. Yet some small nations of ponies and other creatures lived in that vast, unvisited part of the world, unaffected by the horrid degree of societal degeneration of the former tribal ponies. They were civilized enough to still speak of gods like myself, and have even the ghost of the Alicorns in their tales.

Some of these ponies — be they Princess Celestia’s subjects or the southern nations — even knew my name, face, or both. The farther away from the heartlands of this young nation one goes, the more that it is apparent I do not exist — few of these Equestrians know that there is a second princess at all. Instead, they envision a heroic sun-queen and tell tales of her enchanted shadow that she lets loose from the castle to help slay her enemies. I am no longer any kind of creature worth knowing, though I was the one who fought on the frontlines of the war to liberate this land from Discord and scouted the Crystal Empire all by myself before Celestia and I battled its king. I have done just as much for this nation, if not more work than the princess, and instead of treating me equally as I have wished for so long, I am erased and all my efforts are mocked with the kindest of smiles.

I have never known ponies to be anything more — they merely wrap their thorns and other barbs up in lovely silk and try to call that deceitful dressing both true skin and a solution to what they do not see as a problem. Unfortunately, Princess Celestia has always trusted such softness and sweetness more than she has ever been able to read the hearts of others, which is something that lies in the thorns when it comes to ponies. It is why she is so beloved and accepted, and why she could never have been the Bearer of Honesty.

Those that do know of me fear me, and I am to be kept at home by order of the professionals summoned. Oh, have none heard why — apparently I am ill!

...I do not entirely disagree, though I hate every terrible thing that has been commanded of me as an attempt at treatment.

These ponies, they could try to launch a hunt to get me delivered back to Princess Celestia if I tried to establish any — extremely unneeded — communication or alliance with any of these mortals. If their sun-princess promises a reward and spins a sob story, they shall eat of it like a weanling gobbles their first mashed meal and thinks it a feast.

I would need and desire the company of none. No crown would rest upon my head, and the princess would get to be the sole ruler that she has always wished to be — something she has mentioned often enough. Perhaps my mind would grow less troubled under the wonderful spell of a completely solitary lifestyle, where I can wander once more and rediscover life’s beauties at last. I feel that since the exodus from the Frozen Wastes — and even before that, when I first found ponies with my sister — that I have only ever ebbed away. I only remember what it is like to feel safe. Everything and everypony in this world is glass that accuses me of being a hammer. I throw more work than ever into crafting the sky, and yet I have not truly enjoyed it in decades. When I can bring myself to eat proper meals, everything is bland, and my dreams have dulled. Now, I only ever get to miss things, and I do not think I even have the energy for that anymore.

Flying south did seem to be the best option. The journey would be less tedious than if I went across the seas. The world’s news would also be less clouded by the particular prejudice of Princess Celestia’s northerners that blotted out all attempts at knowledge. I doubt I would find the culture of the western world to be like the quibbling mortal-ruled phases in the south.

I was sure I could do this, no matter how much I felt my stomach churn with worry. Some of that worry was still for her, though it should not be so… not after all this.

Sighing again, I buried my head right in my forehooves again, wiping my eyes with my cloak and thinking of just what I should do. All the chatter of ponies and tut-tutting of Princess Celestia that surrounds me is about how one must work for others, and that we always get what we deserve. She still preaches to this post-war nation of a rosy-glass illusion, but I think it has poisoned me as much as chaos poisoned the land because I cannot get her out of my head. Over and over I hear that it is good that always prevails, and this is said to my face as though I was not on the frontlines of a war we barely won, or bearing the World Tree’s Elements alongside her.

If goodness only ever comes to those that deserve it, then I really must be as rotten as I feel. Perhaps I am no more than what ponies say I am too.

Long ago, my parents told me that it was important to set free what I loved. This had always been in regard to the kittens we used to keep in our gorgeous castle, where I first learned to control my magic by toting them around or pretending to fly with them on my back. All the lovelier creatures of the forest flocked to me — and really, all creatures of the Everfree Forest are lovely, no matter what these settler ponies think they may say about my ancestral home. I was always upset when it came time to put them down or send them back to their homes, for I was not sure if my friends would be able to play with me again.

Those words were meant to comfort me, and indeed they did. All my lovely pets would eventually come back to play. It was my pets and my parents who taught me it was also important to love myself as much as I loved others. Would they still say the same if they saw me now, a goddess made helpless by her own mind? They were great Alicorn gods that always strove for justice, harmony, and to bring balance to the world. How could they bear to know what has become of their daughters and their world? Could they even still love me, knowing what has happened to me?

My last sniffle dies away, and I stare at my forehooves in silence. They tremble in the night like the songs of crickets and star spiders, but even that is lessening.

If I am to set free what I love… I know now what I must do.


…


Feathers cut through the sky once again as I resumed my late flight wishing my head could be as clear as it was when I set out on this journey to disappear. I left all but one of my crowns behind, and stashed its accompanying set of regalia into the small bag I brought with me. The one that remained atop my head was a reminder — I did not hate the crown itself, for it was better than anything mortal-made. What bothered me was what it stood for.

They were among the few things I had left in my personal chambers, at least of the things that I had not hidden. I wanted to call them my favorite, as they had been my favorite for the longest time since getting them, but I was not certain if I was allowed to have favorites of anything any longer.

I landed on top of the tallest hill where I still had a view of the Everfree.

Seeing the palace so far away and knowing I had escaped it left me more breathless than the view and my tears had. How long has it been since I have felt like this? Being away from her was like being pulled from drowning because I did not have to feel that every day and conversation would hurt me anymore. Nopony was building smothering glass walls around me and scolding at me when I tried to crawl from them at last, if only so I did not suffocate. To be free of her is a lotus flower meal I wish to eat of until my stomach is taut with it and I am ready to throw it up again.

But I had still never felt more stuck in all my life. The choice weighing upon my withers was to drink deeply of spring water after centuries in the desert and letting the heat stroke my mind. Yet, I was still so torn between the two because of the knots of memory. Not to see Equestria’s lovely little ruler did not mean I had none of her words haunting my head — no matter how much I wanted her out.

Biting my lip, I held back a whimper. What was I supposed to do? Walls no longer surrounded me, and I was still sure that I was trapped.

Here I could be Luna, flying through the night air with few constraints that came from knowing I was still in this land, the one where I had heard I was nopony’s daughter. These same words came from the mare who told me, ages later, that she did not even want me as her younger—

I dive below — a bit noisily — into the treeline. I have settled in the branch of the last tree of the border between the Everfree foothills and the Unicorn Range that Mount Canterhorn is a part of.

From here, it was hard to miss anything. Even the uninhabited grasslands that surrounded the forest’s southern border were in clear detail to me. All of them were equally beautiful and dangerous — the wood, the grassland, and the slanting tree I sat myself in.

None would ever see these things. In the rare event that I spoke at all among ponies who tolerated no word that fits in with the normalcy that they craved; that was barely not Tribal Era dogma that had been refreshed for the Triarchy, I would get nothing but talk of how only monsters that must be slain lurked in the dark and that I should respect my elder princess instead of slander her precious day for suggesting anything in the world was worthy of fair treatment. That was ponies at their kindest — a mob so against the idea of looking at the stars a few moments and putting aside their talk of mooncalves and other invented monsters that could only be given life within such horrible minds. It was ponies who wished to drive out all from the land — be it the buffalo, timberwolves, or many other creatures — and deem them improper sapients or monsters to be tamed. Will it be in one hundred years from now or more that the buffalo no longer dominate the prairies that divide us from Arabian borders? Will it be less time for there to be settlements — or even cities — in the southern lands that Equestrians are so hungry for?

Never do the Equestrians think that it might be they who are the beasts in need of firm guidance.

Sadness welled up within me again. Could I really do this? Relinquish the damn-near ‘honorary’ title and ‘meaningless’ duties that come with being the ‘spare’ princess to Her Highness? She has never once tried to do away with the limbo we are at, where after the war upon Discord she was crowned the ruling princess. I was the one who planned and fought; she spent most of the war shut up in the mountain strongholds and only took to the battlefield shortly before we discovered the Elements of Harmony. She has all but told me to my face that I am the second, the ’in case’ if something were to happen to her, and ponies are in full support of this. ‘Twas in the very founding papers of this monarchy — yes, the Second Unified Nation of Equestria very much, not a diarchy as I wished it could be.

Of course I could give it all up — she never gave me anything, yet still tells me I am ungrateful. How is it that I can be ungrateful for nothing at all? Her Highness the All-Wise, Kindest, and Most Generous has never been able to answer this fundamental question. Only by reminding me that there is a roof on my head, a title to my name, and other such things does she seek to explain what a foul brat I am. I have a squadron of physicians to tend to my needs, she will remind me, I have grand parties that I get to attend. I am the namer of all the known stars — yes, the very ones that only sailors and artists bother with!

Could I evade any ponies that were sent after me? Undoubtedly, they would be but ponies, after all — and whether or not they were motivated by coin, they are still bumbling, unexpert mortals. If they managed to figure out what direction I fled in, I shall honestly be surprised. Perhaps I would even laugh, if I did such things any longer.

But could I manage to flee without guilt that should not be and a kind of loyalty that need not remain in a heart that only wants to reject it?

I looked out at the hint of a red morning that was starting to break. It was a silent testament to how long I had tarried. More than that, it was an indication that my keeper would rather cause an eclipse and get her sun into the sky.

Of course, she was already raising the sun without me…

I was not worth waiting for this morn, if I ever was. Perhaps on that, we still had something to agree upon.

As I flew back to the castle at the heart of the Everfree, I knew that I had not made the right choice. My heart was heavy enough to hurt for it — but what did it matter? Most would agree that this was what I deserved and that anypony who acted the way I did ought to have the thoughts and urges I did — the urges of melancholy to turn upon oneself, to deny all the care that kept me anchored to gloom and my energy sunk lower than a shipwreck.

I have spent too much time shadowing Her Highness to disagree with the sentiment.


…


Silence was always something I had favored in life, both in the past and present. Rarely was it unbearable or suspicious — and when it was, then the solace of such an inevitable aspect of the solitary lifestyle felt like a mockery of its usual self. To be around ponies with my own monsters in my head — the kind not even the physicians wanted to talk about — only became more overstimulating. Why make things more unbearable than they already were? I am well aware that it is probably what I deserve, but I don’t hurt myself because I want to. ‘Tis just easier to neglect the source of all my woes. Princess Celestia should be happy that I treat her greatest nuisance so foully — especially now that I cannot bring me to stop.

One cannot summon a pest-catcher for my subjects anyway. As unbearable as they are, I cannot escape them.

I am not sure if I am even allowed to anymore.

Unfortunately, it does seem that the thing about throwing oneself into a hole is the aftermath. Everypony would rather gawk at me or tell me I bring shame to Her Royal Highness of Equestria — and she does not disagree. I would just rather be buried. I already speak only slightly more than a corpse, can my subjects at least not treat me like one? They have already treated all my art as something that they might kill. What more is there to loathe, fear, and scapegoat? I have stopped asking for my own holiday decades ago, and I have even given up on asking those summoned and escorted to the castle to greet me too. I am a phantom figurehead in court. It has been five years since I last cried without warning at one of Princess Celestia’s parties.

Trying at anything is just as grueling as succeeding now. I have drained myself of all such audacities and only my presence remains. Why can the high and mighty Princess Celestia not just order me away? Then she would have nopony who would be detracted from appreciating her. I would not even ask her if she could command all the terrible thoughts that swarm and feed off me to leave too. Let the maggots of the mind have me, I suppose.

This particular dawn was one of those occasions of solitude. Not even the halls of the castle yawned before me. They simply waited, the air in them still. In the throne room, I found the castle’s only other resident. She was perched obviously upon her golden throne as though I was only the Clover to her Platinum — a servant and little else. Her magenta stare flicked past me immediately, and she became fixated on my cloak and lack of being completely outfitted in regalia.

The latter part made her neck flush an embarrassed red. I would no doubt have to be cornered with a lecture on proprietary between class or something of the sort later.

“Where hast thou been?”

Her tone was always that of a mother glacier — concerned, untouchable, and slow to show just how freezing cold she could be. Faint barbs of iciness always crept out quickly when she spoke to me. There was the distance of a politician that she could not pull herself out of — that had set in far too early for my liking.

“I was flying in the Everfree,” I whisper, my words having to be all but pulled from my throat. “My sleep was troubled, Your Highness.”

Too often I find that I cannot speak even when I know just what to say. My anxieties are just too choking. A few decades ago, Her Royal Highness finally got frustrated enough with me that she paid a physician. The medical mare insisted I was afflicted with a sort of partial mutism induced by melancholy after she spent the whole time talking with Princess Celestia. I had not been able to summon a single word no matter how much I tried. Instead, I had to sit across from them both as they chattered like I was not there. Apparently my diagnosis is one that only afflicts foals and those deemed ’idiots’ who choose not to speak, even though I chose nothing.

The cure was to punish misbehavior and praise good behavior.

I do not have a lot of good behavior.

I just wish I could at least have my poetry books back. I do not care that I have read them more times than a pony can possibly live, I bound them myself and I love them. This horrid therapy that is all the rage for silent foals involves selecting all that I have not hidden and putting it in Princess Celestia’s chambers — as though they were not overstuffed with gowns and her own trinkets already — and rewarding me with my own belongings when I ask for them back. Nothing necessary is supposed to be taken, so I still have my toothbrush, combs, clothes, and by Her Highness’ decree — my regalia. I am supposed to have her magic clutch my forehooves to quiet them when I play with my mane too much too. I do not even get to write notes or gestures — I have to talk, and just cannot!

At least if she had put magical wards on my things and stashed them anywhere else, I could have broken any of her spells. Princess Celestia knows that I am stronger and better at magic than she will ever be — otherwise I do not think she would deny fearing me as much as she does.

‘Tis not fair — more than my will is burned out and all my words have left me! Why can nopony understand? I am treated like I am cursed though I suffer no magical ailment!

Those twelve words are the most I have said to her in weeks. I always refer to her exactly as she likes to be, instead of by what she is not. To appease her is better than prolonging things. I want to thank all of my stars for letting me be able to rattle off anything at all.

It was always best to tell the truth — yes, even to Princess Celestia of all creatures. I would not reveal all, and was relieved to feel that I had automatically assumed the chilly, but un-intense gaze, and naturally aloof demeanor I had would get me out of this social situation. That array of my behaviors were some of the most useful I had — especially when the princess was involved.

“If thou finds thine sleep troubled, do not go roaming around the forest!” Her expression is aghast with something that is too much pure horror bled over what could have been worry once. “Any dreams of what is to come are best disclosed to Us, hm?”

She gives me a winning smile I find no warmth in, and I loathe how she pretends each day between tragedies is something that can be walked away from so easily. Why must she pretend like this? Ever since my foredreams only ever grew stronger and deeper than hers ever would be, something has emerged. She wants to know my every dream and thinks that they can be pruned with the same mundane methods gardeners might use for their harvests. The mare who was once my sister became my keeper. ‘Tis an ordeal that is little different from plucking feathers in terms of tension and true impropriety. All parts of her that disguise quiet domination as an idea of Harmony only she seems to hold have only sunk their roots more deeply after the war. That which can be controlled, must be so. Be they dinner plans, my alleged post-war ’idiocy’, or even the future itself.

‘Twas not even a beat and she managed to find the political mare’s blank face a sentence later. I think she puts more effort into being seamless around our subjects, but around me, this is the closest to casual she has become. Things were not at all like this before we found those cursed pony tribes, and I am still sorry for that.

“My subjects deserve to know what the future might bring,” she chimes, her words an attempt to press for what there is nothing of at the same time. Such is a common tone with her. One that is best reserved for the peskiest of foals and our subjects, if it must be used at all.

I wish that she had been an only foal.

When the princess received no reply from me other than a partial bob of my head, she sighed. The sound was that of a deeply inconvenienced mother — the kind who demands her foals answer for why they eat so much instead of why she lets them go hungry. Clearly, I am only some foal that has troubled Her Royal Highness, the great Dawn-Bringer, who sits here in her castle clad in lace. She is forever free from dirt and dust, never once acknowledging that when we returned here from the north and found our magnificent old home here, it was she who razed it to rubble and buried the deed under a mountain of excuses. Now, we only have this lesser tomb of darker corridors to inhabit.

Our ponies never hesitate to call her immaculate, and yet I stand before her differently. I have never been able to do otherwise. I am forced to look up to her, with my black cloak still draped about me and a few leaves snagged in my waving mane. Just last week, she was claiming — not complaining; you see, she never complains — that I do not go out enough.

Last year, it was that I went out to the Everfree Forest too much. She is unpleasable in that regard.

She began again, her expression was one that many would find utterly pleasant. I thought she looked distracted. “You are still a princess now, and whether we find ourselves as rulers or nobility—”

So, she admits that I am redundant.

“—the way that ponies look upon the two of us and feel about us both is of the utmost importance. We must always give them as they deserve, in accordance with destiny. It is your duty as well as mine to be looking after them and act less like… a warrior.”

What might our legionnaires think if they heard the ornament of a mare they fight for sneer at such a fine occupation? I helped lay down the laws of this country within all its documents, and the best I got was merely the second, non-sovereign princess despite all my own work and efforts toward building this nation.

“Duty first. Ponies first. No more of these night trips. Not like this, when you go to see nopony. Even though you refused all the marriages We arranged for you, We would still have some understanding if you wished to see a lover. Yet, you go to see nopony, and instead insist on fruitless queer habits. Those scare ponies. No more rebellions. Please, try to bring your behavior up to standard. You know that We care about thou. Ponies expect their gentry to have less frivolous habits — such as silly travels and night-walks. It is always dangerous in the dark. Why would you walk in the hours when monsters prowl — and in the nation’s most dangerous place?”

If the princess expected an answer, she got none from me. I was too drained from my worries, from this unshakeable weariness that drains my emotions. I tried to do my best, I really did. But this is the mare who reminds me that my best is never enough. I use what little energy I have left on a shrug, before fatigue fully clouds my mind. Her Royal Highness does not understand how I cannot speak constantly when I speak at all, among everything else about the malaise that digs at me.

Her expression pinches with offense. “For shame, We art worried about thou!”

I dragged my hooves in a weary haze back to where my chambers were. As I neared the shadowed halls behind the throne, the light of dawn shone down from a nearby window. It illuminated the displeasure all too obvious in Princess Celestia’s expression — it was a momentary, fleeting thing upon her face. Mechanical serenity eventually overtook it once more.

I almost wanted to stop, but my head was dizzy. Her masks are always an unsolvable puzzle that somepony is shouting at me to perfect, and I am not even given rules. Even still, my moods alone can throw me into this downward spiral of mania and exhaustion alike. I would have said that I missed her too, and I even paused to consider it before I remembered that those words would be a lie — if I could speak them at all.

With that in mind, I resumed my walk.
> Some Kind of Nature [Archive] [Old Version] [Bonus Material]
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Princess Celestia’s mane tended to flow more sluggishly in the mornings, which made maneuvering around it a fumbling act for her mind still fuzzy from sleep. Until she could have her first coffee of the morning, things would be slow and easy in Equestria —  and for the most part, that was how the princess liked things. One of the exceptions, however, was her tail. That was more of a hassle than any mane problems, and while she would never admit it to anypony, there were times when she had tripped over it when she had yet to pull herself from sleep’s lingering fog.

Her eyes were tired and showed a little less of the ageless goddess she was before her immersive morning grooming routine. Idle thoughts danced in her mind while she tilted her watering can carefully over her window box, such as the tea she might have later with lunch, or if today called for soft orange eye shadow or cheery yellow. All the while, she contentedly watered her blooming box of bright pansies. Her crown was not even atop her head yet, and why would it be? She could worry about the face of her nation once she tended to the needs of others —  even if they were but a box of flowers.

The dawn Celestia had brought to Equestria mere minutes before was a weak one, and Luna’s night had still not faded from the sky. It was always Luna who made an art of the heavens and Celestia who kept them functioning instead of flourishing. Even her daytime skies were meant for what they could to do enrich Equestria, and she brought the morning and sunset in a blink and swish of magic.

Today was different, but not abnormally so. Weather ponies had announced the forecast’s schedule in advance, as they always did, and that today would be overcast with rain later. But a mare could not help wanting to give her flowers a little snack.

It was in this slow, chilly dawn that Celestia hummed idly and considered what the grind of the day would be. Her thoughts emerged as slowly as the fog around Canterhorn Mountain parted to reveal the lower spires and gleaming walls of her city.

Only then did the loud sound of a splash and a pop boom from behind her. Celestia gasped, eyes wide, and her magic fumbled, spilling the remaining contents of her watering can as she whirled around.

Her eyes met her guest’s immediately, and some of her worries slipped away as quickly as they had come. The personal chambers of her and Luna were warded against teleportation and their few keys guarded closely; the exception to these powerful barriers and strict tabs kept on the keys being any lovers or family —  and in Celestia’s case, her Faithful Students.

“Dissy!” she chided, “You gave me such a fright!”

The draconequus gave an oddly nervous smile, wringing his paw and claw in a fidget before proceeding to explode with magic, contorting his whole body in the blink of an eye to rid it of water. His rain poncho poofed away, as did the squirming fish and other odds and ends he brought with him from his evident string of teleportation. Only the smell of sea salt remained prominent.

“Celly, I—”

He was cut off by a gasp from Celestia as she smiled at the other guest. Emerging from behind Discord was a green, slimy entity bearing a dopey smile aimed at Celestia.

“Well, hello there!” Celestia cooed, prancing momentarily. “Oh, Dissy! I’m so glad you brought little Smoozie-Woozie! Tell me, has he been causing any problems lately? Nabbing any trinkets? From the castle? From Twilight’s castle? Oh dear, did he take something from anypony else’s castle? Is that what this is all about?”

“Erm,” Discord twiddled his thumbs, “That isn’t too far off…”

She reached out to pat the green slime fondly, watching it wiggle gleefully. How it was able to be male, she had no idea, but Discord called the Smooze such. “Goodness me, is something else wrong?” She tapped around the Smooze lightly, as if to scratch non-existent ears. “Is he overdue on a playdate with Philomena, because I certainly think that she would just love to—”

“No, no,” Discord said quickly, his odd smile growing bigger and more hesitant. “It’s something else…”

All of the princess’s cheer fell away, leaving her not with her usual composure but a faint nervous air. Her mane flicked with quick, idle motions, having picked up speed with her budding worry. She blocked out the noise of fish flopping around on her gorgeous, rich carpet. Even the colors in her mane seemed a touch paler in the uneven light of her room.

“Dissy?” Celestia asked, cupping his muzzle with her hooves. “What’s wrong?”

Discord, ever in motion, squirmed and fidgeted under the cool, soft touch of Celestia. “Well,” he drawled, “the Smooze is having problems.”

Celestia regarded the draconequus quietly, most of her tiredness gone from her eyes, though they had yet to shine alertly. She stepped back from her lover to turn her calm gaze to the Smooze, who was making squelching noises in the puffy little life vest Discord had put him in. For all intents and purposes, the Smooze was Discord’s pet, and a half-aware one at that. He paid her no mind, and followed her as she quietly withdrew a few bits from inside the drawers of a bedside table.

The Smooze accepted the treats eagerly, growing little from the meager offering and grinning its toothless, gumless, near-mouthless fool’s smile. Smiling back, Celestia was able to hide the discomfort from having the mucus-like residue left on her hoof, wiping it away with a conjured hoofkerchief. “I’m far from an expert on creatures of any kind, but little Smoozie-Woozie looks fine to me.”

She offered Discord a reassuring smile, pretending not to notice the Smooze ambling innocently about in the background —  sliding over to her expansive vanity and ingesting a few precious, expensive crystalline perfume bottles.

When Discord did not stop twiddling his thumbs, and looked at the Smooze with a nervous stare past the bizarre creature, Celestia’s worry crept back. There was nothing to suggest anything was remotely wrong, and the only thing fishy was the smell now permeating her bedroom… but Discord worried over very little, and what his carefree attitude remained unbothered by, he tried to fix — and sometimes ‘fix’ — with chaos magic.

It drew her to him, that in all his unpredictability he became predictable. And Celestia’s expression softened with worry knowing that anything that still bothered Discord so much after her attempt to weigh in would inevitably bother her as well.

“If this is a matter of creature conundrums, you have the wrong mare. While I am no busier today than usual, and you know I would love to help, I think that Fluttershy would be much better suited to helping the Smooze. She probably knows all the best vets in Ponyville; I’m sure one of them would know whatever ails little Smoozie.”

Celestia’s horn flashed with magic, and she lifted a large basket to scoop the Smooze into, pulling the creature over to where they were. “I can get him some blankets and something else to eat, but if he’s sick, it’s only responsible to take him to somepony who knows how to help. Why, I let Philomena self-immolate, so I’m not the best consultant on pet health.”

“...Isn’t your birdie supposed to burst into flames?”

Tutting, Princess Celestia gave the confined Smooze another head pat. “Oh, of course, she is. But I still let her make such a show of it. Now, you’ll keep me updated on his condition, right? Oh, and do consider bringing Twilight into this. If Fluttershy doesn’t know how to fix the Smooze, I’m sure there’s something in Twilight’s castle library about magical illnesses.”

“The Smooze isn’t sick,” Discord said, ignoring the green slime creature’s efforts to get Discord’s attention by brushing against him. “And he doesn’t need a veteran.”

“Veterinarian,” Celestia corrected automatically. “And if he isn’t sick, then what is wrong? Are you sure you don’t need a specialist too? If so, then maybe Fluttershy isn’t the pony to contact… Oh, dear…”

“Yes, yes!” Discord exclaimed, gaze darting about fretfully as he threw his forelimbs into the air and began pacing her bedroom in haphazard, nonsensical lap patterns. “I need your help, Celly! If I needed Fluttershy or Little Miss Book Smarts, I would have brought them here by now! Or, even better, I would have snapped—” here, Discord snapped for emphasis, “—the problem away and dipped into my own hocus pocus instead of purple pony princess peskiness!”

“Dissy,” began Celestia quietly, tugging at the Smooze’s basket with a forehoof in order to draw it closer. “Just what is the matter? I’m sorry if my suggestions are inadequate, but I have no idea what’s wrong to have you so worked up.”

Discord’s pupils shrink, dancing briefly with unsettling with light. “Ponies are going to be in trouble! You’re the best at protecting ponies, not Fluttershy or Princess Friendship.”

Princess Celestia’s ears turned forward, her demeanor shifting to a hushed phantom of regal worry. The slime of the rambunctious, escaped Smooze crawling around her legs suddenly felt heavier and quite chilly.

She swallowed, her throat dry and attention hooked.

...the best at protecting ponies…

“What exactly do ponies need protection from?” she murmured, pulling the basket in her magic once more to corral the wandering Smooze with uncharacteristic brusqueness.

Discord had his claw raised close to his mouth and was biting absently at one, watching Celestia handle the Smooze with the neutral air of a distracted governess. “Celly, don’t treat that Smooze so meanly.”

‘Meanly’ was certainly not how Celestia was currently handling the green slime ball currently lounging in her oversized basket with all the awareness of a heat-dazed dog. However, that was not what really caught her attention.

“Discord, what do you mean, this Smooze?”


…


“I mean there’s more than him,” Discord replied, jabbing his paw towards the basket.

Celestia took a quiet, sharp exhale and sat down upon her vanity’s cozy nearby cushion. Her horn dimmed, and when the golden light vanished, the Smooze splashed and writhed more contentedly in its temporary home.

“And just where is this second Smooze?” she asked him, a headache of worry pulsing softly under her horn.

“On one of Neighpon’s baby islands,” Discord said, pinching the air with his paw to demonstrate.

Celestia bit at her lip. Neighpon was not only on the other side of the world and across the Barren Sea, but it was also made up of thousands of islands covering thousands of miles. The preparations needed for such lengthy travel would only be one issue to consider.

“What was it that brought you to Neighpon, of all places?” Celestia asked. Cross-continental teleportation left any creature —  mortal or otherwise — drained, and was always safest done with stops. For Discord to have been there and back again so quickly, the urgency was all too apparent —  as was the likelihood of Discord’s magic likely being stretched, like sore muscles after athletic endeavors...

...which would mean any magical responsibilities would be primarily her burden, were she to take up this errand.

“I try to visit all my creations,” Discord insisted, conjuring what looked like a photo album. He patted it once before Celestia could get a clear look at it.

“I see,” Celestia said, flicking an ear to the side, though the experience was not something she understood. Perhaps to Discord, checking in on his creations was like writing to a dear friend — something she could grasp. “Now, how can this Smooze be a danger to ponies when that Smooze—” she nodded over to the resting blob, “—is an inoffensive creature. Why, he wouldn’t hurt a fly. Is this a case of theft against the islanders’ wealth? Has the Smooze on that island grown too much?”

“Erm,” Discord scratched the back of his head. “Yes, this one grew. She’s quite the big girl— ”

“She?” asked Celestia, blinking, and tapping under her muzzle just so. “There is a lady Smooze?”

“Oh, of course!”

“...How can you tell?”

Discord gave a shrug that made the rest of his noodle body wave with the motion. “Dunno. Anyway, she’s not anypony’s little girl anymore. Oh, and she’s very cranky. He’s a small, docile bit of Smooze. She… isn’t.” Discord waved his paw in an effort to clarify. “Think of her like this little fellow here during the Pretty Prancing Gala… just bigger.”

Celestia did not want to think about that, and shifted the Smooze’s basket over to her to ease her worried mind. “Why is it you have just learned of this creature’s actions, Dissy?”

Discord winced, his breath coming in an awkward hiss. “I haven’t seen her since I was stoned.”

Celestia’s expression was devoid of any notable reaction. “Petrified,” she insisted. “That means something much different now.”

“Oh, I know!” Discord burst into one of his familiar grins, the kind that usually had her laughing in lighter times. “Fluttershy’s friend told me all about it!”

“Mhm,” was the only response Celestia had about that. She rubbed the top of the Smooze. “We had better not waste any more time, Dissy. You need to save your magic if we’re to travel somewhere so distant — and a far-flung place I’ve never been to, at that!”

He rose before her, animating the door so it scuttled open on newfound legs in order for Celestia to carry the basket with the Smooze outside. It was secured into place with a brief snap of colorful chaos magic, and Discord appeared next to Celestia, her regalia adorning him clumsily and a hiker’s overstuffed bag slung over his back.

When he grinned goofily at her, she managed to return a ghost of his smile and nuzzled him.


…


They divided their preparations and managed to complete most of them with ease. Letters to Luna had been written, letting the younger Alicorn know that she was to rule with Celestia’s absence — as obvious as it was, Celestia knew not writing would be cruel, and Luna needed to know where she was in case Discord and Celestia found themselves in any dire situations. She had given Raven instructions to relay to the rest of the castle staff. This way, Luna would not be overburdened by simply making their subjects aware of her errand.

Meanwhile, Discord delighted in busying himself with various tasks. He emptied an entire weapon rack into his bag, cramming at least five spears into the pack carelessly. Following those were a variety of suspicious-looking potions, matching couples’ canteens, a Smooze-sized sunhat, and a rubber duck.

Frankly, the sun hat was the most confusing part. Neighpon’s vast archipelago was quite rainy this time of year.

The Smooze squirmed inside Princess Celestia’s saddlebags as she went about her own work. She paid no mind to the goo creature so carefully shrunk at Discord’s command and turned her attention to the walls and center of the well-illuminated tower room.

Maps of the known world covered the walls and rough-hewn crystalline slab in stark contrast to the usual strong elegance of Canterlot Castle’s architecture. Upon the well-preserved parchment spreads were diagrams of entire regions and swathes of territory, their coordinates labeled carefully to ease teleportation’s few difficult elements. A plethora of gems was shining in numerous piles at the tower-room’s borders, a supernatural glitter coming from within and around each.

The princess calmly approached the wall bearing the most depictions of the Neighponese seas. Her wings shifted faintly, folding over her saddlebags to better hide the jewels decorating it from the Smooze. Various islands dotted the heavy parchment in ink long since dried, and few of the islands other than the nation’s major ones were known to her. Though, tales had reached the princess’ court regarding islands with themes pulled out of storybooks: cats and rabbits outnumbering the sapient residents in charming aquacultural villages and other seaside destinations.

“Discord!” she sing-songed, waving a forehoof in a beckoning motion. “Which of these islands is your other Smooze close to?”

Her horn lit, and she began to stuff a line of ensorcelled gems into her Smooze-less saddlebag. They glowed brighter when reunited with her magic once more, and she was careful to discard any that were chipped or flawed from the magical overcharge rawer forms of Alicorn magic could bring to such ordinary gemstones. Chariots and boats saw more use than her personal teleportation chapel, but that was no excuse for her not to let her hoards go uninspected.

Discord slid over to her, spinning like the marble floor was made of butter. “Hrm-hrm.”

Celestia gave the Smooze a scolding look, shoving its slimy body away from where it tried to snag some of her gems that were making her saddlebag bulge considerably. Her hoof was all that told the creature what it was doing was unwanted, since never once had the Smooze responded to anything other than voice or touch — which was an abnormal behavior even for a non-sapient animal.

“That one!” Discord exclaimed, pointing at a speck of land painstakingly labeled in small hornwriting as Uninhabited Islet #127.

“You’re certain it’s that one?” asked Celestia, giving Discord a gentle, but serious look. “We could be island-hopping for heavens know how long if this isn’t the right island.”

“Definitely that one!” Discord tapped the map, ignoring Celestia when she shoved the Smooze back into its saddlebag. “There was an island shaped like a potato chip nearby, and if you look very carefully this one is clearly shaped like the potato chip I remember.”

Princess Celestia looked doubtful at the inky silhouette. “Don’t most islands look like potato chips?”

“Of course not! And besides,” Discord said, scoffing, “this one is clearly a ruffled chip.”

“And that makes all the difference?”

“Absolutely!” Discord crossed his forelimbs. “Imagine if you were here with somepony else who thought any old potato chip shape would do. You would be lost in no time!”

Celestia clicked her tongue, smiling and shaking her head. “Oh goodness, Dissy. What would I do without you?”

“I just told you: be lost in no time!”

“Well,” Celestia gave the maps one last look, “if that is the closest island, then I suppose we must make haste.”

Discord nodded, and held his paw out, charging it with the colorful and frantic aura of chaos magic. Celestia’s magic shimmered to life once more, the gold intensifying with every second. The princess wrinkled her muzzle from the effort and squeezed her eyes shut from the bright outpouring of golden aura coming from her saddlebag. The Alicorn magic tethered to the gems jumped at her conduit, eager to be used and drained into something.

Before the chance to complete anything came, Celestia laid another layer of preservation enchantments upon the room’s contents with a flicker. The heat of the tower room grew more intense with the duration of Celestia’s magic.

Discord tapped his paw to Celestia’s horn, complete with a raspberry sound effect before sparks and booms sounded behind them and the two lovers faded in a flash.


...


The first sound Celestia heard was terrible crashing in the distance. It was too deliberate to sound like thunder and did not sound as if it came from the sky. The ring that ached in her ears during the aftermath did not fade when she opened her eyes.

Her crown — which Discord had slipped back into its proper place — did not totally secure her mane from whipping in the harsh torrent of wind. Ocean waves cascaded upon the sand underhoof shakily from all the clamoring on the other end of the island. Discord’s sense of direction and the second charge of Princess Celestia’s three-charge worthy cache of residual magic had brought them to where they needed to be from across a narrow stretch of sea.

She looked around, inhaling unsteadily, and tried to stand her ground. Sand slipped into one of her shoes. Anarchy dominated the poor, scrappy cay where Celestia and Discord stood. Trees were weakened and trembled in the wind. Whatever was causing the disaster on the island rattled the tall palms like twigs until any collapsed, weak, and disregarded like toothpicks under the might of a boulder.

Celestia was tense with the anticipation of a dragon’s roar or other monstrous calls that never came, leaving her and Discord to watch as trees fell, collapsing towards the alien boom coming from the island. Tense seconds after each fall passed in something closer to silence, the sound that followed somewhere between the furious roiling of a sea monster and a lumber mill’s snarl.

The first few steps forward were halted, and the goddess balked when she felt the Smooze slip its green form partly around her leg. It quivered with all the fear she could barely show, innocent to the combat she simply dreaded. Celestia was no goddess with a domain in fighting, and her ability in combat was minimal, at least for an Alicorn. Whatever beast this other Smooze would prove to be was one she could only be glad wasn’t bigger, worse, and anything she knew was not easily combated. Smooze was not as susceptible to magic in the same way other creatures were — everypony had learned that at the gala — but it was hard to look at the little green blob clinging to her and think any counterpart it had could be clever in the way other creatures were.

“Celly,” Discord said, shaking her by the wither and jolting her from the Smooze’s grip. “Look at those.”

And she followed to where his claw was pointing, her mane brushing under his chin. All the island’s plants and stones were filled with holes and marks suggestive of one thing.

“This Smooze has been… eating the island?” Celestia asked, muzzle wrinkling. “Is that what those marks are? Dissy, I thought you said that this creature has been here for centuries!”

“Oh, it has. I’m afraid it’s just been stress-eating much more rapidly recently.”

Celestia offered a small frown in response, suddenly very conscious of her figure at the mention of stress-eating. “As much as I’m sure the ocean will be problematic for this Smooze, I can’t imagine it being more than a delay…”

She trailed off, only seeing Discord offer a quick, nervous nod of agreement from the corner of her eye.

“How does your magic do with this one?”

Discord gave what Celestia initially mistook as a shrug before scooping up the frightened Smooze between them and giving it half-hearted pats that bordered on simply poking it. “About as good as this one. Extremely. Magically. Retardant,” he punctuated each word with another poke to the quavering Smooze.

“And this one is entirely malicious?” Celestia asked, keeping her ears perked and composed visage up even when the latest boom made the island rumble. A mare could not rush into battle entirely unprepared, no matter how poor she might be at it.

“Very, very malicious, Celly.” Discord leaned toward her, poised for a stage whisper. “It has sharp teeth too.”

Celestia paused, opening her mouth and shutting it again when she couldn’t figure out how to adequately ask a slime beast could have teeth. “I-I see… and it cannot be reasoned with? Or pacified in any way?”

Discord let a quick shrug wave and bounce from shoulder to shoulder. His expression dipped into something momentarily downcast and uncertain. “I’m not sure. She made about as much sense as I do.”

The princess honed in on two things: this Smooze was apparently a ‘she’ and that Discord looked like he would have rather said ‘no’. Only Discord whipping out a colorful chart fully scribbled in crayon pulled her from further considering the implications.

“Oh, and when I tried talking to her she threw three trees at me. That makes a ‘Very Angry’ creature rank on the Tree Throwing to Emotions Conversion Scale.” Discord tapped his chin, his chart vanishing as quickly as it came. “Could you imagine if poor Fluttershy saw something like that?”

Celestia nodded, as was proper, but hid the way her thoughts strayed with the politeness of the motion. Lady Smooze was big enough to hurl multiple trees and work at consuming an island. A creature at least the size of a cottage came to mind, the approximate size feeling quite right for something that could potentially be hurling multiple trees at once. All this was quite different from the Smooze that had returned to wiggling with fear in Discord’s grip. Why, even the act of referring to the Smoozes with such an air that the large ‘S’ brought was beginning to feel puzzling now that it was no longer a name and creepy, for neither made sense to have that grand, commanding letter as a species as Alicorns did. At least the names of Mister Smooze and Lady Smooze could ease that.

“I still need to get a good look at this Lady Smooze we are dealing with,” Princess Celestia said, casting Discord a worrying look and letting her tail trace patterns in the sand with quiet sobriety. “If I attempt to stun the creature from a distance, we shall only be heaped with errors neither of us can afford.” Celestia winced with distant recollection, not at the thought she almost called the unknown smooze ‘she’, which was all too personal a designation. “Anything I am to cast against this offending being will need to be done at close range.”

“Oh,” came a familiar teasing edge, “I’m very familiar with your attempts at long-range combat.”

Discord pretended he was trying to hide his snickering with a claw while Celestia clicked her tongue. With a glow of magic and a snap, her saddlebags came off and she plopped them into Discord’s grip already burdened. The barest hint of mischief danced behind her seriousness.

“Take these,” she insisted. “If I’m going to be doing much of the work in driving out our new friend, you will need to mind our way home and make a lure to focus its direction. We’re in this together,” Celestia said, giving him a quick nuzzle, “and I’ll need you to be ready for battle.”

Discord affirmed her words with a play salute. With that, Celestia spread her wings and took off.


…


The heart of the island was a nest of terror. There was no hint of elegance or identity to the Lady Smooze, just the scars it inflicted upon the land. Where it reached out and uprooted features and foliage could be plainly seen, even where Celestia soared high above. With yawning bites by the dozen, the horrifying beast grew in size and hunger. Already, it was plain to her why this creature was a threat: enough of it was already spilling across the other end of the cay and bobbing into the sea with a bouncy gait like a waterfowl. If there was anything to suggest that it could swim, ponies really were in danger. She was certain any wildlife dwelling here had already met a grisly fate.

Knots writhed in Celestia’s stomach at the thought, and she made a noisy dive closer. The full grotesque appearance of the creature was spread before her, and Celestia took in the foul sight with a shuddering breath.

This was no form of an oversized slime mold, and it was the size of half a dozen cottages. Ravaging the island was an abomination unlike any that Celestia had seen before. Dozens of ginormous misshaped mouths lined with rows of malformed teeth snarled and chomped away at the world. While there were some slimy looks to parts of the creature, the bulk of the body was a hideous mass of pulsating tents of flesh. Worst of all were the countless array of body parts protruding from the purplish mass. Half-formed paws chipped antlers, salt-ruined giant insectoid wings, bulging stingers, ridges of diverse bone dripping smooze-filth, and writhing tentacles were dragged limply along in the monster’s crawling search for more.

Just what was this horror? And how could it come to be?

Celestia whickered nervously before charging her horn with a blinding ray. The searing light did nothing more than taze the smooze as she held it to the creature.

Her effort was enough. Immediately, dozens of eyes shifted from across the mass with an audible, disgusting noise to the top of the best. Their sizes were as irregular as the forms of teeth and bone already present, but each one was seething with an emotion Celestia could only conclude was fury. Their hostile reddish pupils and irises were ringed with soured yellow that could not make it clearer whom their focus was — or how much they hated her.

Gulping discreetly, Celestia fired her magic again before barrelling noisily to the side. She acted none too late, as the irritated beast swatted its form spastically and she narrowly avoided contact with the fleshy gunk.

Again, her light grazed the irritating creature with a blinding intensity that dwarfed the ability of any unicorn. The steadiness of how she continued to apply her stun efforts made the monster flail and lurch; as it did another island rumble reached Celestia’s ears.

Now she had it moving.


…


Another sound greeted Celestia as the beach came into view once more. The wind whipped violently in her ears and the motion of the Lady Smooze below was equal to a buffalo stampede. Above all that, a faint and jolly sound carried over both.

Discord was instructing his Smooze on how to play a whole ensemble of ridiculous instruments. The green Smooze made slobbery attempts at song into a harmonica and sent symbols banging hideously with its every move. Nearby, Discord hopped up and down, simultaneously directing his Smooze like a maestro’s more spastic counterpart while maintaining his own control over his own array of instruments. From where she was, Celestia counted at least fifteen under the control of Discord — though, their sounds were anything but controlled.

While those two lured the angered Lady Smooze forward with their band, Celestia continued to fire modest amounts of her power behind the rampaging purple mass. This served as an excellent way to irritate the creature, leaving a distorted path of glassy, fragile magma where sand had once been.

In the chaos, Discord was quick to dodge, his orchestra vanishing with a snap. He always was. While Celestia could only fight in short-range, uncontained bursts, Discord had no heart or mind for fighting when being slippery and tricky could work. Only this time, he couldn’t slip from conflict so easily: he had forgotten to remove the green Smooze from the line of the other’s fury!

Princess Celestia wanted to call out, to urge him to go back for the neglected Smooze, but her words didn’t come. They caught in her throat like a weight that dragged her focus back to the task at hoof, and that meant having to tear her gaze away from two things: Discord’s horrified realization dawning at who he had left in danger’s way and the fearful green Smooze burbling and blubbing in confusion for Discord to come back.

Celestia tried pumping her wings faster. Worry made the sweat fall down the back of her neck faster. The green Smooze had no features that could properly express fear, but the princess knew the sound of fear when she heard it. Even non-sapients like the Smooze had their primal emotions and their torment was not something Celestia could ignore.

She could see the green Smooze trembling in the shadow of the Lady Smooze, and her mind spun deception the more she took in the creature’s fear, trying to convince her that she was wasting time when only seconds had past and the initial whiplash of fear between her and Discord was still in full swing.

With a torrent of writhing and wiggling, the green Smooze appeared to diminish itself in what Princess Celestia could only think of as the opposite of deimatic behavior. It fell in on itself as if it had anywhere to go when in the shadow of a foe…

...only to unfurl itself, size doubled instantaneously…

...and it kept expanding.

Before Celestia could blink, her raging heartbeat demanded she halts her flight, and she did. The once insignificant green Smooze was transformed into a being unrecognizable when compared to its previous form, much to Celestia’s fear and Discord’s visible antsiness. However, its new appearance was very, very much like Lady Smooze.

What was previously her and Discord’s Smoozie-Woozie was now an amalgamation of flesh, limbs, and oozing terror and other secretions. Dozens of mouths widened with fury and pain, gnashing rows of mismatched teeth. An ear-grating symphony of roars ripped from each one, each one its own discordant call. Though she was not as keen with beasts as Luna was, Princess Celestia could feel fear all twisted up in those frightening, agonizing cries.

As distant as he was, Celestia could feel Discord’s increased fear like it was a sheet draped over her withers. It was a subtle thing for him to show fear, and the princess knew that if she were standing near him, Discord would still be unlikely to express real terror instead of a cartoonish ghost of it. Such was his nature.

And yet, the feeling might just be a product of her own fear, multiplied and nothing more. It was hard to discern as she beat her wings and dived downwards. The weight of her heart was rattling in her ears.

In her mind’s eye, she had the barest inkling of something new tickling her thoughts. Unfortunately, it was also something that toyed with her own fears she tried to bury. If her hunch had anything behind it, the green and purple smooze could be reconciled. Was that not something she should rightly be troubled by?

Magic was bright on her horn, and Celestia worked on weaving a familiar spell: one leftover from time as an Element Bearer. It was woven with Harmony’s own light and filled with Kindness. She only used it on Faithful Students and the inconsolable, for it would bring them one of their positive memories as a pacifying gesture.

As light filled her eyes, she was struck in her moment of blindness. Celestia yelped, eyes lost in white-hot nothingness. Moments later, it registered that in her flight the Lady Smooze had reached up and been able to slip a foul limb around her, leaving bile and other secretions upon her even when she had managed to escape its grip.

In the struggle, she had let a burst of teleportation magic free without ending her previous spell. The incomplete Kindness spell’s iridescent light and the gold of her teleportation had layered atop one another, and even though she had managed to teleport from the creature’s vile grip…

...her previous spell had been released too, and struck through the blurs of radiance in her vision, she could see it hit the green Smooze...

...and then…

...and then...


...


The memory pulled itself around all her senses, smothering them with fog and fear. Her magic tinted the world of mist with harsh golds and deep yellows. In it, Celestia was not herself. She was immaterial, both infused with the feelings of an observing force and the mare at the center of the dream simultaneously. The fear of the latter seeped into the oppressive, constricting sense the memory had. It was as if Celestia had her mind poured into half-frozen jello when she was still herself and left to weigh there.

And to think that this was all happening in an instant outside of her. The tugging of her mind and body, so painfully indivisible from each other, was enough of a reminder.

The third sensation was the fragile one from within the mare, dim and dying in a way that a goddess like Celestia could only acknowledge, but not understand. There was only the barest mind to that one.

The memory was fragmented, twisted, and controlled by the toll of something mind-breaking for which Celestia had no name. She could only view these splinters mutely. There was obviously little else this mind had to cling to, and it was so much that the area other than the raised sandstone topped with drenched cotton sheets was lost, devoured by the warped memory’s nature.

Another mare with the patterned veils of the desert stood by the prone mare. Her face was pale with fear and slick with sweat, but only the clamminess of the mare upon the bed-slab. The curls of their manes were stuck along their faces, and Celestia felt the echo of the sliminess they made.

Words flew out of the pacing mare’s mouth in what Celestia could only guess was a predecessor to modern Arabian. How she hovered over the other mare who was in the throes of labor made it clear that she was a midwife, and the mare whose sweat-soaked mane was free to tumble upon the sheets squished under her was her charge.

The sight between the patient’s legs showed that no birth was a pretty one. But something else was at hoof, something ominous and urgent. The new mother’s eyes showed hints of fogginess in her horrible, pained spasms and she was heavy beyond what any mortal mare could reasonably carry.

The midwife, in a fit of nerves, murmured what Celestia guessed were prayers, pressing damp clothes over the other mare’s brow. Her soothing words did nothing to hide that this mother was pale and screaming with what little energy she possessed.

One of her lower legs spasmed went limp, and more than blood flowed out. Something that should not have exited the body — and certainly wasn’t any part of the fetus. It became obvious — to Celestia — that she was being torn and stretched as something tried to exit her womb.

Under the array, malformed body parts pulsating under grime was the hint of something greenish.

At the sight, Celestia knew exactly what the green meant. The memory collapsed just as Celestia caught the last glimpses: the midwife fleeing.


…


Aisha knew she loved the draconequus when her chores were consumed with thoughts of the peculiar youth. She would wind a forehoof in her pink tresses and feel her face grow happily warm at the thought of the creature. She made nightly treks up to the temple her village had built to house the rare one when she knew she would be the only priestess there.

She was not the only one in her village who adored him, for they all left the draconequus — that was what he called himself — food, drink, and other offerings. Aisha just happened to be the only one who had her heart made light and warm by the creature.

Aisha was special to him; she was sure of it. He showed her all the tricks of his magic and spun stories of made-up friends that told of equines like no other, with magic beyond mortal capacity, wings, horns, and everlasting life. No other mare got to hear such tales, he told her, in a rare moment of seriousness. His tone would have the same, fleeting softness that he only used for one other thing — compliments to her dawn-pink mane and tail, which she kept so carefully groomed and dust-free.

On all other occasions, they were careless. He said it was his nature to have this complete recklessness and go wherever the wind took him. There was no poetic skill to him at all, and his horrible ability with words only endeared him to Aisha because it was so different from the stallions of her village. The creature told her about how he spent his travels rising with the sun and staying where he pleased when he pleased, and for however long he pleased.

Once, Aisha had asked him if there was anything special that would ever make him want to stay anywhere. She had batted her eyelashes at him and wore his favorite scarf — a flowing pink streaked with purple and green — to catch his attention and give him every hint.

He had grinned at her and asked if Aisha wanted to watch him touch his eyeball with his tongue.

Aisha couldn’t put her hurt into words for him — that wasn’t what hearts were for. So she let it slide from her memory and hadn’t shown it. He was only being himself. They continued to be young and reckless.

And now Aisha had something that would make him want to stay with her forever, and it was something that they had shaped together. Plus, all the other priestesses would be so very jealous.

What she had not expected was to find him already gone, the entire temple empty of even one lit torch, and only the sound of night wind over the oasis to greet her.

This memory had come to Celestia through a haze tinted with gold and the iridescence of harmonious light magic, and yet those colors so bright and good should not have been harsh or inappropriate in any situation.


...


Celestia cried out again, in fear and distress. She shook the last shambles of the past from her eyes, kicking and thrashing mid-flight as she did so. The world hit her sideways and her bearings snuck up on her. The goddess flexed her wings and pumped them rapidly, unable to make the tight veers and motions due to her size. Soon, she was out of harm’s way and the moments she had viewed from her miscast spell dizzied her with their gruesomeness.

...There had been nothing left in the mind of the creature she had once thought of innocent Smoozie-Woozie.

No, the minds of the creature. It was two beings fused in torment together, the fusing of a mother and foal left in agony all these years later…

...and she had thought of it like a pet.

Something foul and sickly wanted to push something up her throat. Despite the acidic taste, Celestia forced her throat to tighten and flew higher.

On the beach below, she could see Discord standing in the shadow of what had been the green Smooze. His nervous surprise would look comical in any other situation and was not nearly as attentive to how the creature bellowed and wailed. Instead, he waved his arms about, grasping a bullfighter’s red flag and jerking it about inelegantly.

She couldn’t hear just what he was saying from so far above, but it was catching the attention of both beasts. They jostled one another and surged towards Discord, causing Celestia’s heart to race. Though her head was still light, she debated if there was a spell that could help, only for none to work their way into her hazy thoughts.

Being closer, the green Smooze reached Discord first. Her heart raced with how she juggled her thoughts to interfere. Princess Celestia continued watching with bated breath, her expression still and somber. If Discord needed her, he would call to her, and yet Celestia could not fully wrestle down her usual instinct to dive in and make everything as it should be, without anyone else needing to worry.

Discord was more than capable of what he was doing; she just had to mind that, and mind it repeatedly to quell all her thoughts saying otherwise.

Once the green Smooze was close enough to him, Discord did away with the bullfighter’s prop and held out his paw in an inappropriately friendly wave.

Every one of the green Smooze’s eyes immediately focused on Discord. Some even wrenched themselves around, tearing what little cohesiveness there was to the Smooze’s general form in order to look at the lone draconequus.

Warped torrents of irregular multicolored magic encircled Discord’s talon. Green and gold were the brightest shades of the familiar chaos magic that jumped out in Celestia’s eyes, and before she could offer her own contribution, Discord tapped the creature. Dozens of eyes swirled with rings of color and the beastly transformation began to deflate.

When the green Smooze was fully reverted to its gooey form, Discord scooped up the creature and swung out of the way from where the Lady Smooze barrelled forward. He disappeared from sight in a snap of magic; Celestia’s body tingled with adrenaline and she would have dived forward to scoop up her love had he not been quick and tricky.

A tap on wither jolted her from the rapid pace of her thoughts.

“Dissy!” Princess Celestia cried, whirling around to see her Dissy poking over from a nearby cloud. The green Smooze was clutched in his forelimbs, oozing over his grip. Celestia felt her coat go paler at the sight of the now-passive thing and its dumb smile. “You could have let me know…”

She inhaled sharply — perhaps even too much so — and tried to figure out what it was she had meant to say. What exactly could he have done that wouldn’t have given her a fright?

“Oh poo,” Discord said, though his lack of a smile spoke of their serious situation. “What has got your tongue, Celly?”

He waved a disembodied tongue in his grip while Celestia sighed.

“So… your Smooze… and that...” Celestia shivered, still not wanting to look at either. “...They are the same, then?”

“Oh, yes,” Discord replied casually, patting his gooey companion. “She and I go way back too, even farther than this little guy!”

Celestia offered a broken glass smile while Discord didn’t notice. He was too busy giving the gooey hybrid a noogie. How he knew the gender of each smooze suddenly made a bit of sense, even if there was likely a ‘she’ mixed into both smoozes anyway. Still, she had to put off what horrifying memories of dual demise would be in the purple Smooze.

“Is… is there no way you could do that same spell on our purple friend?”

“Celly?”

There was something in Discord’s tone that Celetia couldn’t put a hoof on. “Yes, Dissy?”

“Do you think there is anything left in her to call a friend?”

Celestia hung her head, unwilling to speak the truth.


…


Discord insisted he was pushing the cloud higher, hugging the green Smooze tightly. Celestia refused to correct him and continued to keep her aura steady as she tugged it far above the island’s sky. When she was satisfied with its height, she settled down next to Discord and let him wrap a paw around her withers. Thankfully it was smooze-free.

Together, they peered down at the Lady Smooze’s rampage below.

“And you’re sure this is the only way?”

Discord gave the world below a distasteful look. Their bags floated aimlessly within the green Smooze, undissolved. “Unfortunately so, Celly. No magic is going to work on her. Can you think of anything else that would?”

She avoided his pointed look entirely, pretending to adjust her mane by running her feathers through it.

“This wasn’t going to be a friendship and rainbows errand.”

Celestia kept her eyes downcast. “So be it. We use your plan, then.”

Discord nodded, patting her wither absently with his paw. With another snap, chaos magic engulfed his talons. Ignoring the showy display, Celestia lit her horn with the modest amount of aura needed.

Below them, the world cracked and rumbled. The sound of the fit thrown by the Lady Smooze was lost to a noise eerily similar to an earthquake. Celestia leaned over the edge, her mane spilling with the motion, and watched the results of their magic attentively.

The island was being uprooted, and the strength of their magic made it appear as ordinary as pulling beets from a garden. The Lady Smooze was too big to scamper, but she was obviously filled with confusion as her cay home was pulled and shrouded in the dual glow of two gods.

The sea rushed to fill the chasm left in the wake of the cay’s absence. Celestia bit her lip watching the torrent of raging dark waters. Discord manipulated the floating island first, jerking it forward and elbowing Celestia until she tilted it too.

Lady Smooze went tumbling in, no more than a moment of purple vanishing among the churning waters.

They pressed the cay back into place until the ocean surrounding it was tinted with something darker.

Discord had told her multiple times it was the only way to be certain.


...


Princess Celestia thought she could still smell sea salt long after they returned. She let the automatic grind of royal duties sweep her up for the rest of the day, and her mind numbed itself with routine. She promised Discord that they would have time together the next day. When Luna excitedly wished to hear all the details there were to her ‘adventure’ — because everything was an adventure to her — Celestia gave the most civil answers possible. A princess does not present herself as unwilling to hold a conversation.

When the next morning came, Princess Celestia noted that she was slower than usual to brush her mane in uncomfortable silence.

She never cared for those two words much. All silence was uncomfortable, so the little turn of phrase always came across as too obvious and redundant.

No silence ever lasted; she knew the ways to banish it and fill its place.

This time, all she had to do was have a conversation with Dissy. Really, there was nothing frightening about that, or about him.

But what creature could blame her for not knowing how to address the smooze in the room?


…


Mister Smooze glowed happily as Princess Celestia doled another helping of lesser gems into the bowl. The warm flame of her parlor’s hearth made the gooey creature dance with friendly light. It was an odd air of innocence to cast over such a creature.

Discord popped a few of the bubbles that came from his pipe. Celestia heard him snicker at something from behind her. Perhaps it was a new idea for mischief. She simply focused on keeping the scraps of copper and semi-precious stones from spilling over the edge of a pet bowl.

Celestia bit the inside of her cheek. She had been the one to purchase the supplies to care for Mister Smooze whenever Discord brought it to Canterlot.

It. Him. Them.

She wasn’t even sure what was the correct way to refer to a combination creature like smooze.

How could she have ever thought pet supplies were appropriate?

Something tickled from behind her ear and Celestia turned around quickly. She blinked in astonishment at the sight of a golden bit held too close to her face and Discord’s big grin.

“Yoo-hoo, Celly! Look how shiny this one is!” His grin widened when Celestia matched it with her own imitation. “There must be a fortune on your mind.”

“Mhm,” Celestia murmured, keeping her gaze away from the sloppy eating of Mister Smooze. “I suppose that is inevitable with how our errand went.”

In reply, Discord offered a childish frown and tapped his pipe to his chin thoughtfully. “What do you mean, Celly?”

“You never mentioned that we were going to fight ponies, much less a mare, and her foal.”

Discord blinked and chewed at his pipe. “Hrm.”

“Hrm?” Celestia mimicked. Knowing Discord, any kind of ‘hrm’ from him was practically a language of its own.

“Of course,” Discord replied, shrugging. “I just never thought of them that way. You were there too, and would you really say that these remnants are ponies?”

“I…” Celestia hesitated, bringing a forehoof to her chest like that could make her words settle faster. “I think that it’s very difficult to see them as anything else. There was so little in their minds, Dissy. Goodness, I don’t know if what they had left could even be called minds.”

“Erm,” Discord raised a claw, holding it up like a student hearing their teacher makes a mistake. “Doesn’t that make them no different than ponies who take a great fall and become brain dead, Celly?”

“Well, I suppose… though, accidents like that are filled with so much less torment.”

“But would you call them and a happy, healthy little pony the same?”

Celestia closed her mouth quite primly, completely unwilling to answer. There was distant grief clear in her eyes. “Ponies are ponies.”

Discord scratched his head.

“And smooze… are they all your foals?”

“They’re what happens when any draconequus and pony copulate.” Discord gave a wavy shrug and his pipe vanished in a snap of magic. “You’re more than lucky that Alicorns aren’t ponies.” He stage-coughed into his paw. “Just saying.”

Celestia was well-aware that there was no other draconequui that could be spoken of, and that when Discord spoke of himself, he was speaking for his species too.

Her feathers ruffled with worry, and the sight of a crackling fire did nothing to put her solemn demeanor to rest. “Dissy, how much more smooze is out there?”

“Ahem,” Discord adjusted a bowtie he had conjured and straightened the thick, nerdy pair of glasses accompanying them. “I do believe the correct question would be: could there be any more smooze.”

“Mhm, so it would seem.” Celestia took her seat on a small stool. It was relaxingly soft and as opulent as her other furnishings — but most importantly, it was away from Mister Smooze.

“And…” Discord snapped everything away, eyes bright with his usual teasing. There was no doubt that this was all meant to cheer her up. “...the answer is: I have no idea! Before being stoned there were quite a few pretty pink-maned things that caught my eye after we last saw one another.”

Princess Celestia inhaled very calmly and went three shades paler; there was no other fitting reaction. “I beg your pardon?”

The expression on Discord’s muzzle was like a foal who had run out of ways to insist that a shattered vase was not their fault. “Erm. How do I explain it? Your mane used to be pink and—”

“Not that, Dissy. How could you not know how many foals you have? Is this what is to happen when any young one has draconequus heritage? What of draconequus mothers? I know you are not cruel to leave a mare to die, but what else can be made of so many other mares you’ve been with left to this as their destiny?”

“Firstly, I don’t think my kind were called foals, we grew into fools! For your second and third questions, yes-but-not-quite. I never heard of any union between ponies and the noble draconequus begetting anything more than bastard juice like smooze. My kind was careful about those particular cautionary tales and that regardless of gender, every creature involved would be doomed. Not exactly fun stuff, you know. Overall, ponies are just the worst kind of mortal to play with. They’re very basic, require too much attention, don’t live very long, flaky snacks don’t work as bribes into doing flips, and there’s the whole smooze problem. Now, get a small enough dragoness and there’s a compatible species…”

“Dissy,” said Celestia, voice clipped, “that isn’t what I asked.”

“Oh, but I didn’t even get to the matter of my favorite Alicorn mare yet!” Discord winked in her direction. “She’s a lovable, squishy marshmallow of a mare. Perhaps you’ve heard of her?”

Clicking her tongue, Celestia settled down once again, re-folding her wings and trying to indulge Discord in his effort to soothe her worrying. “Perhaps. You still have left the matter of so many mares and their fates unknown to me. For good reason, I presume?”

“Suspense?” Discord offered weakly, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Well, not really. The answer is actually a dreadfully boring one. When I was a much younger, naive cad I never stayed anywhere long; I simply couldn’t bear to do anything so dull. When I got bored, I left. Oh, and it turns out that for ponies certain ‘biological processes,” Discord wasted no time being subtle with his air quotes, “are a teensy-tiny bit different from draconequui. How was I supposed to know everything under your sun about pony pregnancy? I’d never seen a pregnant pony before! I thought they were all just fat and mean!”

“Oh,” Princess Celestia murmured. She folded her forehooves in front of her and gave a sigh of relief, closing her eyes momentarily. Her mane swirled faintly with the motion but still retained a muted air compared to its usual energy. “I suppose we can at least be thankful nothing more nefarious fueled such decisions.”

She bowed her head and only shifted when Discord tossed her the first in a long line of colored hoofkerchiefs his magic made.


…


Dusk was always a time of impatience for Princess Celestia. In terms of function, it could easily be called the most useless part of the day. Sometimes she pondered if it could be seen as anything more than a heavenly reminder for ponies to hurry off to their homes and finish their evening meals. The evening always held its breath for something Celestia could not spell out. It only created unneeded tension.

The sight of Mister Smooze just worsened the feeling of distant anxiety. The green, gooey creature had been stalking her around her chambers. Discord had gone away some time ago to stir harmless trouble in the castle while Celestia wished to maintain a sensible bedtime — especially when she had yet to put the island errand with the smooze behind her.

Would seeing the fragments of memory left in Lady Smooze — if there were any — have made things worse?

The squishy sounds of the smooze following her across the balcony weren’t an adequate reply. She frowned, recalling how she had found the little creature to be cute and silly at the Grand Galloping Gala. Discord referring to Mister Smooze as his own and how the creature followed its father about in a stupor of joy no longer were innocent gestures.

As Celestia ended the day, Mister Smooze ambled along, halting in her shadow. The last rays of sunlight gave the slimy body of Mister Smooze an unsettling luminescence.

Mister Smooze gave her the same passive smile he showed Discord.

Mister Smooze gave her the same smile he showed everypony.

Celestia stood there on her balcony, barely able to look at the creature. Here was the union of mother and child, bound together against the desire of the only of the two allowed to live. Together, they had lasted for centuries sealed with a bond that only one state could break. Though Mister Smooze smiled up at her, was he still suffering even in his compact form? Had she and Discord truly done good in a way that was complete?

One smooze was still here, unable to do more than eat, follow at others’ heels, and delight in what little it could experience as an eyeless blob of slime. How could it tell anypony if it was still hurting?

Something sprung to mind, a single word dark and creeping. It was no thought free from darkness, but Celestia was not surprised by it. Right now it was chillingly relevant to the dilemma of the remaining smooze, and the struggle it brought to Celestia's thoughts. There was a single word that every Element of Kindness, past or present, always had to gain familiarity with.

Euthanisia.
> Unchain Utopia [Scrapped] [Unfinished]
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Starlight Glimmer had entranced ponies with the idea that they only had chains to lose, Double Diamond hadn’t known she would be right. As with all of the times that Starlight Glimmer was right, Double Diamond eventually wished she had never been. Starlight Glimmer had only ever been right in the worst ways possible. The chains she spoke of were not imprisonment, but the tethers that united him with his soul — and once that had been severed, the rest of him went too. 

She tried crooning to him more than the others, with lies thick upon her tongue. Starlight Glimmer had whispered a radicalism that was unheard of in the goddess-ruled kingdom of Equestria — precisely because said ideals were illegal. What Starlight gave them was equality, in all the worst ways, all at the cost of themselves. Double Diamond had lost years of his life at Starlight’s doing, her glorification of labor and unity leaving nothing that ever innovated himself. Her anti-monarchy and blasphemies against a world with living gods had made it traumatic to re-enter a world with one. Her robbing of his magic made thrusting him back into a world teeming with magic frightening — almost as frightening as the scars a magic-less existence had wracked him with, if the doctor’s visits, therapy, and health issues he and the others now had to endure meant anything.

Starlight Glimmer screeched for a world without self and to live without magic in a universe that could not be without magic any more than it could be without atoms. She demanded ponies bow to one another without question instead of to the divine, as though that were an appropriate social order. 

Starlight Glimmer stalked Double Diamond’s nightmares, all the point he had them while awake. She was a witch without magic, a dark goddess without godhood, and a monster with fangs nopony could see. And he was going to have to live the rest of his life with her hoofprints in his head.

But... Party Favor had known her too.

Party Favor was willing to walk every step of the road to recovery with Double Diamond, and for that, Double Diamond could only hope that one day they would be able to walk down an aisle together, forever. 


…

> Untitled #5 [Scrapped] [Unfinished] [Rarity/Twilight]
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Twilight Sparkle had always wanted love to be logical, and much to her horror it was. Unfortunately, her view of what was logical was so deeply, inseparably intertwined with the concept of organization. It was stuck in her mind as deeply as any instinct and less easily cut apart than a heart severed by chambers. 

She would not have recognized this blunder, not even if Twilight Sparkle lived outside of herself. Her view of attractions was based on calculations and as romantic as pursuing the bibliography of sociology books on the matter, minus any shred of fascination. The concept of identity to her was scientific to the point of being despicable in that sole nature, with any concept of tongue-in-cheek experimentation being replaced by the literal. 

Nopony had ever told Twilight Sparkle that she was the Tin Mare of romance because she could at least make her goal of a respectable house, spouse, and two-point however many foals fit within the context of normal conversation. The statistic itself was more of a sense of achievement to her than how she ended up bringing those many wonderful things into her life. It was the esteem she expressed towards that statistic and the favor she always had towards the neutral, rather lukewarm term spouse that had pushed her towards realizing her own bisexuality. 

To Twilight, that was sensible: to deduce that from her tendency to exclude no gender, she likely favored both. The fact attractions, orientations, and much of what went into a romance could be so neatly quantified always had her heart aflutter. Only the actual, essential romantic love of romance itself ever eluded her. There was no surprise to be found in that; during her years of trials and error, including trying to make sense of all Cadance’s talks on the subject, Twilight Sparkle had come to believe that love wasn’t supposed to make sense. She wouldn’t have a way to explain it until she moved to Ponyville; that love was like the Pinkie Sense and would only be understood if it was treated as impossible to understand.

Twilight Sparkle had fallen in love enough times to know the hopeless juggle of feelings that could become romance. Her relationship with Cadance made her feel like quite the secondhoof expert on the matter too. And why shouldn’t it? Who was to say that being the student of Princess Celestia didn’t contribute to such a fundamental understanding of pony life? 

Unfortunately for Twilight Sparkle, love did make sense — and she had yet to learn this. 


…
Chapter 1: (Starswirl)
...

Twilight Sparkle’s first love came from a book, as was to be expected.
> Defining Features [Original Version] [Archive] [Bonus Material]
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

There it was. Over a thousand years ago Celestia and I left this castle, which was so well hidden in the Everfree Forest.

This was our birthplace, and where the four of us were last together. Perhaps my ambitions, if you can call them such, have faded but they are not gone like hers. It takes much to divide such a bond that we had, and one of the things that did so was when she confessed that she had given up in the form of a screeching fight that took place in a old stone castle lodged in a abandoned corner of the world.

There were no apologies, no amends.

Nothing of the sort.

The castle had come into sight after ducking under the bough of a tree heavily anchored under curtains of ivy. After that we finally stood on our own doorstep. It was no longer a place within my own conscious or the stuff of memories with an untouchable existence, as here it was right in front of me.

Of us.

I swallowed hard but couldn't contain how positively bittersweet everything was inside and burst into sobs while through my tears I glimpsed my sister's conflicted face, a suppressed foil to my outburst, albeit an understandable one.

When we left she and I were naught but little fillies who cast but scraps of shadows despite actually being hundreds of years old. Now here we both were already over one thousand, but in mortal years we were adults of twenty-four and seventeen, respectively.

Our castle was wrought of stone in many hues of light gray and sculpted delicately, seeming to flow up from the ground like an implement of nature itself, its unlit windows sleepily shining with raindrops from the recent showers as it rose above the forest, its spires reaching for the clouds.

Yet our life memories do not lie here, I thought, for we truly grew up among the world itself with mountains as our mothers, the forests as our fathers, and the varying landscapes as our friends and teachers.

And here we return as the Last Princesses...

Celestia, expression unreadable sets one unadorned hoof across the threshold of the silver doors, now tarnished with age.

My heartbeat quickened as my sobbing gradually ceased watching her exaggerated reluctance as she took this step, her colorful mane and tail cascading waterfalls shimmering and suddenly her prolonged movement ceased and her impatient magenta gaze locked into my face which was still streaked with tears.

"Come in," she said flatly. I was almost beginning to believe that Philomena the Phoenix, who was had been astride my sister's back before parting with us at the forest's entrance was the only source of brightness about her anymore.

At least Phillie understood the enormity of this occasion.

I followed her inside and through the hallways and passages as she led us nowhere in particular.

Our castle was relatively intact but the passages Celestia seemed to want to choose were layered with tapestries of cobwebs which she burned mercilessly.

It would seem I was the only one here for sentimental reasons, I mused silently as we continued on even faster, my vision blurry with the remains of our deserted home.

I forget what exactly happened next because only two things remain undisputed in my mind: first the floor gave out below Celestia and she fell, screaming in shock to the rooms below, before I could properly react the ceiling where I was standing loosened and rained down in chunks, one of which hit me in the head as I was about to call out to her...

Next, I fell on top of her, utterly dazed, and then the floor beneath us gave away as well.

After that memories surrounding the specifics of some of the next occurrences didn't come. I wouldn't talk because my head hurt too much even though I felt no blood and the spots of light peeking through the debris above stung my eyes so I looked around at the forsaken and crumbly wing we had ended up in this time.

It wasn't one I remembered very well and the only sign of life was the small kitten with big blue eyes and a starry coat like that of the Ursas my father consorted with.

I guess not all of the cats deserted the castle after we left. Some must have continued to live here. The kitten looked at Celestia and I briefly before mewing once and scampering off in another direction.

Tia stared at the direction where it came from with a look I couldn't quite decipher in her eyes. "Follow me," she murmured brusquely.
I did without any objections, the dim halls blending together for who knows how long until all I felt was dizziness.

Soon after getting entangled in many a cobweb to the point where we were probably unrecognizable as equines my sister and I came to an old wooden door already half decayed and conquered by various molds. Celestia stretched out a hoof to touch it before its remaining half crumbled to slimy chips that weren't worth mending.

Once we stepped inside the pitch black my head throbbed harder and the stagnant air caused me to sway with nausea while the unaware Celestia began to comb through her sparkling mane with a forehoof from when she cut it during part of her 'act' as 'Solara'. Or at least that was how she had phrased it.

And she expected me to believe that it was all an act as well, even though I know her...and I still do. I still stay even though you might not deserve it.

A moment later my knees buckled and my vision went dark while my throbbing head felt like fire until I felt the pain go away and opened my eyes to see Celestia standing over me muttering about how there was not any cat in the hallway and that I was talking nonsense. There was also another part I don't think she wanted me to hear: not renovations or remodeling but rebuilding.

...She hates this place...?!

I didn't let my knowledge show.

I wasn't strewn with as many cobwebs as before and my head finally felt better but my heart didn't.

"Careful," she scolded as she helped me up so I would not slip in the pool of vomit almost directly in front of me. There was no need to ask where it came from.

"Come see what I found," she whisper-ordered me when it became obvious that I wouldn't fall down right away. She then proceeded to steer me over to a radiant corner of the room that definitely I didn't see when we came in. Perhaps she moved me to a different room?

There were two large mirrors that seemed to sprout out of the deteriorating stone walls, but unlike them the mirrors were clear, pristine, and undistorted. They almost looked new compared to the rest of the decaying atmosphere.

The light however came from the pile of brand-new crowns, collars, and shoes made out of pale gold and studded with violet gems. All were a matching set with the exception of a more queenly-looking headpiece and its companion shoes and collar who were enthroned on top of their brethren.

I gasped, amazed at the craftsmanship that was beyond the work of any mortal, of anypony. When I blinked a moment later Celestia was right next to her new treasure heap and plopped one of the crowns on her head watching with a smile as it automatically adjusted slightly to fit her a bit better. As a filly she dreamed of crowns like this.

I can't say I shared that dream.

Without looking away from her reflection she waved me away toward the other mirror which I had not throughly inspected yet.

"Go try out yours, Luna."

"What?" I said looking over to where she waved only to see a large clean-cut cube of opaque pale silver with a smooth appearance somewhere between crystalline and metallic that gleamed with a mysterious prismatic sheen. She didn't say anymore and as confused as I was I trotted over anyway only to find that this cube of what I presumed to be metal came up to my chest.

What was it? I wondered with another blink.

Cautiously, I began to run a hoof across the cool surface only to find my hoof was stuck fast. I tugged once in attempt to detach it and then tried a spell but to no avail. Then I noticed that Celestia wasn't worried. A pile of tiaras and such does not just appear like that...and I know she hadn't summoned it in the time I collapsed because she had been helping me. Nervous and confused, I watched as the foreign substance tugged at my hoof before beaming with a bright light which caused me to wince and shut my still sore eyes.

'This is completely normal,' is what I tried to recite in my head, although it was probably much closer to 'Ow, my eyes!'

My eyes aside, it soon occurred to me that whatever magic was in effect was reading me. It was inside me, my dreams and my fears like a fish might swim against the current of an unfamiliar creek. After a minute of holding my breath it seemed to dissipate, and in one whistling exhale I opened my eyes to see what curiosities lay before me.

I gasped in wonder for in front of me were gleaming indigo fragments of a cloudless night sky in the form of dozens of beautiful little crowns of divine craftsmanship and lying amongst them were glittering little ice stars in the guise of the most fragile looking shoes. Scattered throughout the pile of treasures already before me were inky-hued collars, the center of each emblazoned with the rare occurrence: a crescent moon whiter than snow.

Like Celestia's pile mine had a set that was different from the rest: a golden crescent moon atop a gilded mountain with swirling purple clouds and its shoes and collar.

I plucked this ornate crown up with my magic and moved it so it rested on my head in my long and sometimes unruly mane that is a similar color to the 'plainer' crowns. The mirror shows my apprehension of what is to come in such detail it almost startles me.

At long last I see me mane ripple slightly, the mark of a maturing goddess.

Of a princess...

In all my life I never thought of myself as Princess Luna. It was simply something I was born with, like the color of my eyes, and thus it meant little to me.

I see the dust of rubble and a few flecks of blood caught in my mane. The crown feels out of place on my head.

My eyes are so wide and recently it feels like I have been forced to choose between two worlds: the one that is and the one other ponies insist is important where court parties are the only obligation.

That is not what it is to be a leader, why doesn't Celestia know this?

I am Luna, the goddess. I am Luna of the Night, Luna of the Everfree. I am Luna the once-cheeky filly, the wise, the blunt, the dreamer, and the adventurer.

I did not dream of this.

I doubt that I will ever be what they call a princess: one who smiles and waves and not much more.

In their corner of the glass pane I note Celestia's gaze. It says the same thing although with much more intensity...
> Failed Footnotes #4 (Lore)
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tetrachromacy is a condition that impacts the vast majority of the qilin/kirin population. This particular quirk is found most often in bloodlines with draconic roots, and is one of the many biological compulsions behind why dragons crave jewels. In them, they perceive a multitude of colors that cannot be sensed by any other creatures except their hybrid descendants: the qilin/kirin. One of the major reasons behind the vanity perpetuated by the creatures is because of the transcendent beauty they are able to see in gold and jewels.



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For countries not ruled by gods, oaths in common speech (ie. "Sweet Celestia!" and the like) are somewhat different. Swearing by the names of gods is still very common, even if that god is not one's ruler, but a variety of other expressions still exist. One that is incredibly common in mortal-ruled nations on the Southern continent is "By the Pantheon and the Palace" which exists in almost all countries under the Pax Equestria law and in the United Council of Civilized Kingdoms. The Pantheon, of course, refers to the divine council above all mortal authority and floating over the unseen realm of Paradise. 'Palace' does not refer to any particular palace, just whatever dynasty is currently in place. This is because of the upheaval these nations see. Palaces usually outlast the ponies in them, and to swear on them is to swear on something that lasts. It is also an ideal way to mask whether one supports the current regime of royals or not, since 'palace' can be incredibly vague. 

(Meta note: 'The Pantheon and the Palace' was the original title for Divine Move in its earliest form.) 


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The United Council of Civilized Kingdoms is the name given to a group of mature nations on the Northern and Southern Eastern continents. They are in agreement with each other to the point of having a treaty with shared laws. While some nations were hesitant to join, most willingly joined in an effort to mimic the stability seen in Equestria, Aquastria, and the few remaining nations ruled by gods. While the organization possesses no shared military, they frequently exchange troops and goods. Members are required to extradite criminals from one another as well. Travel restrictions between nations on the Council are less strict and meetings happen at various locations within participating nations. A goal of the Council is to be able to hold participating nations accountable, but the double-standard favors older nation members and conflict is less likely to be examined if it falls short of all-out war or armed conflict. This means that various diplomatic trifles and other conflicts may become incredibly prolonged or go unresolved unless they come to a violent head. 

The Council is generally effective since mortal-ruled nations within it generally have longer lives. Borders are negotiated more easily among participating nations. However, no one mortal dynasty has remained in power since it has joined. The Council does not generally interfere with any internal affairs so as long as crimes against sapient life are not observed or declared by numerous fleeing emigrants. This leaves room for many exchanges of power, coups, and other events that lead to the change in royal powers to happen. 

The Council has some nations who are allies with it, but not participating members. These allies are not subject to the same treaties and laws that participating countries are. 

Participating nations include:



Equestria (founding nation; emerged because of Princess Celestia during the Solar Millenium; Northern continent) 

Germaneigh (Southern continent)

Prance (Southern continent) 

Trotsia (Southern continent) 

Aquastria (as of the Resurgence; includes colonies; off the coast of the Northern and Southern continents)

Trotland (Northern continent)

The Crystal Empire (as of its reemergence; originally as an Equestrian colony until Arc Two; Northern continent) 

Saddle Arabia (Southern continent)

Maretonia (Southern continent) 

Buffalo tribes (Northern and Southern continent) 

Non-Chrysalis changeling hives (Northern and Southern continents)

Butterfly Island (as an Equestrian-involved territory; near Aquastria's waters) 



Allied nations:



Griffonstone (as a Shirdalian colony; Southern continent) 

Shirdal Island (far into the middle of the sea between the East and West, closer to the Northern continent) 

The Dragonlands (Mostly Southern continent) 

 Non-Chrysalis changeling hives (Some in the Western continents)

Colthuacan (Southern continent)

Mustainia (Southern continent)

Yakyakistan (Northern continentt) 

Istallia (Western continents) 

Arcadia (Western continents) 

Shaman Isle (off the coast of the Southern continent) 

Sibearia (Western continents) 

Boara-Boara Islands (near Butterfly Island)

Andalusia (Western continents) 

Brumbralia (Western continents) 



No involvement:



Qilin (the country; not the character; Western continents) 

Neighpon (Western continents) 

Chrysalis' hive (extinct post-Canterlot Wedding) 

Some non-Chrysalis hives (all known continents) 

Cervidaine (Western continents)

Ibexia (Western continents)

Capreolia (Western continents)

Trampylvania (Western continents) 

Mirkaysia (Western continents) 

Saddle Lanka (Western continents)

Llamalayan Mountain Kingdom (Western continents)

Brayzil (Western continents) 

Isle of Albion (Distantly off the coast of Trotland)

Kingdom of the Isles of Mares and Shetland (Distantly off the coast of Trotland)




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Of the Mane Six, only Twi, Rarity, and AJ have completed their education and a high school level education. Rarity barely had the chance to, due to the difficulties with unicorns in the Equestrian school system, and also because she was eventually pulled from Ponyville's public schoolhouse and put into charm and finishing schools that her parents paid to have her boarded at. That her education depended on payment for her to learn good shit (like magic) was something she knows that she was lucky to have since most other unicorns in Ponyville didn't fare nearly as well. Pinkie and two of her sisters (Marble and Limestone) were made to drop out of homeschooling at 12 (the legal age in Solar Equestria) because of earth pony tradition, were put into family labor, then their roam-springa's, which led to Pinkie being apprenticed. All of this is incredibly typical of earth ponies in Equestria, and most of the school system's traditions in the nation can trace their route back to the early, ex-tribal earth ponies. Because Flutters was emancipated as a minor from her foster home, she decided to drop out too and worked menial ground labor jobs to pay for her home, which fostered her gardening, sewing, and animal skills. RD dropped out because the school system didn't handle her ADHD well (especially with how it mingled with her pegasus nature) and she was put in a Jr. Weather Trade program. This is an extremely common situation in Equestria, and nopony would be surprised by it.


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The opposites of the four princesses would be: 




Mi Amore Cadenza: love --> lust/perversion (and she would bear the name Decadence if she had a proper corrupted/antithesis form.) 

Luna Galaxia: hope and dreams --> submission and static (Though this isn't exactly what Nightmare Moon would hold domain over, since she wasn't an exact antithesis, as Favorable Alignment and other stories touch upon.) 

Twilight Sparkle: magic --> non-being/nothingness

In Celestia's case, it is unknown because she never gained more domains. Night and day still share the same sky and don't have virtue opposites or even more elemental ones (which in turn can double as virtues) like magic. 

Factoring in Sombra would be: knowledge --> ignorance





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End #4