King Charlatan, Ruler of All Penguins, Lord of Ice and Snow, sat at Berry Punch’s bar. He was a hulking figure -- ten feet tall, powerfully muscled despite his avian build, wrapped in a black-and-white tuxedo that perfectly matched his natural penguin colors. His crown was woven from a mix of gold and ice, metal sparkling in the depths of those crystals formations which never warmed. He was a warrior, a giant, a wizard, a sorcerer, a king, a figure whose appearance at once projected strength, power, cunning, but also civilized intelligence. Just the sight of him made lesser creatures tremble with fear.
Normally, anyway. Couldn’t help but notice the ponies around him didn’t fear him much at all. He sat hunched over, holding a block of magically conjured ice to his rapidly purpling black eye. Several empty glasses sat in front of him, and two ponies sat on either side of him, ignoring him in favor of their private conversations.
“Refill?” Berry asked. Without waiting for an explicit reply, she made him a black-and-white rum cocktail, the colors so perfectly divided they matched the rest of his appearance.
“What happened to the world?” King Carlatan asked her, eyes downcast. “It didn’t used to be this way.”
“Tempora mutantur, nos et mutamur in illis,” Berry replied with a shrug.
“What?”
“The times change, and we are changed with them” Berry repeated herself. “It’s latin.”
“Ponies didn’t used to speak latin.”
“Actually, I’m the only one in town who speaks latin. Though a lot of ponies speak spanish.” Berry indicated Pinkie Pie and the Mane 6 in the back, who were having their own, not unrelated celebration. “We’re trying to be more inclusive and multicultural.”
“Back in the day, we didn’t worry about that.”
“Well,” Berry replied, a tad dry, “back in your day, ponies were pretty dim and shallow. We’re trying to be aspirational, you know? Having a mare speak latin is a little nudge towards the value of education. Teach the little ones good values.”
“The rainbow one kicked me in the face,” King Charlatan growled, rubbing his eye. “Is that ‘good values?’”
“Well, we don’t encourage violence,” Berry says, waggling a hoof. “But teaching little girls to cry helplessly when they’re threatened by a male figure isn’t good values either, you know? They need to take charge of their lives. And you did try to enslave her first.”
The King of All Penguins sighed, lowered his head, and stared down at the bar. Behind him, Rainbow rose up above the Mane 6’s table, using her hooves to pantomime a series of lightning-fast blows.
“Hey,” Berry said, cleaning a glass as she spoke. “It’s not all bad. You’ve still got your Fortress of Frost. That looks way better than it did originally. All those towers of ice, those snowman soldiers. Quality of execution has gone through the roof. You’re like penguin Sauron.”
“The purple one,” Charlatan indicated Twilight. “Heard about the Fortress of Frost, and asked if we could do a special adventure there.”
“See? You’re already set up for-”
“A very special adventure,” King Charlatan said, “about global warming.”
“Oh.” Berry winced, momentarily at a loss for words. All she could manage was, “That sucks.”
“Yeah.”
A long silence came between the two of them, broken when another customer signaled for Berry’s attention. She took a step away, then paused and leaned back over to Charlatan. “Hey, at least there’s fanfiction, right? That’s new.”
“Hardly new,” he snorted, “little girls have been writing their insipid stories about me for thirty years. What is this new generation of fanfiction going to do for me that the old one didn’t?”
“We have adult shipping fics. You can explicitly bang Queen Chrysalis.”
At the end of the bar, the other customer who had been seeking Berry’s attention buzzed her wings. Then, in a flash of green light, she transformed into what could only be described as a ‘sensual lady penguin.’ Frankly, it was a sight Berry Punch could have gone without.
“Well,” Berry finally said. “Maybe if you buy her drink first.”
“Out with the old,” King Charlatan said, downing his cocktail in one swig. “In with the new. Let’s go be non-canon.”
“Oh Celestia,” Berry made a face as King Charlatan rose. “Tell me that’s not your pickup line.”
Chollywood: Changelings realize that their shapeshifting abilities make them uniquely suited to be actors, and enable them to feed on the love of their fans.
The mare on the screen was a teenage fantasy: tall, toned, perky, plush. She had muscles like an amazon warrior, shiny fur, full curves. Her coat was patterned like a deer, white on her underside that slid up under her tail, emphasizing her body shape and those elements her tail only just concealed. Tiny spots like freckles touched her neck and face, and her eyes were wide and sweet and soft. Her horn was sharp like a wizards, her wings wide like a stunt flyers, her hooves broad and yet so perfectly kept.
“Hey there everypony,” she smiled down at her camera, like she and it were conspirators in some inside joke. “I’m Felicity, and today, I’m going to be telling you all about how common arguments against utilitarianism don’t stand up to second-order analysis. We’re gonna get weird with edge cases, and—” A sound effect like a pony kissing interrupted her, and she cooed. “And, we’ve got our first tip already. Philiosipone455 asks, ‘can you say Kant is your favorite philosopher on screen? And, have you ever experimented with bondage gear?’”
Felicity belched, a loud, deep sound, laughing and rubbing her belly to cover for the awkward moment. “Sorry, changeling moment. Philosi-pone, I can feel how much you love me, and if you want to see me tied up and cropped, I’m happy to do a video for you, but a mare has to have her standards. Kant is a hack who-”
“Twilight?”
Twilight slammed the lid of her laptop shut, staring at the creature who had interrupted her. The dragon. She stared at Spike. “Hi. Hi Spike. Yes. Hello. Here you are. In my room. Where you are without asking. Which seems like a violation of my privacy.”
“I called to you, you didn’t answer.”
Quickly, Twilight slipped out her MarePods. “I had earphones on. Is this important? I need some private time, Spike.”
“Uh… it’s a royal missive…” Spike frowned. “Are you okay, Twilight? You’re really flush.”
“It’s hot outside.”
“And you’re sweating.”
“It’s hot inside.”
“And you look…” He hesitated. “Thin? Like you’ve actually lost a lot of weight.”
“Parasites frequently cause weight loss in their hosts and also I’m supporting artists.”
Spike frowned: “What?”
“Oh for,” Twilight hissed. “What was the message?”
“Luna is concerned,” Spike pulled out a scroll, “she said there’s a new service called OnlyBugs that she thinks might be a changeling plot to—”
“Luna is a crank, Spike. Everything is fine.” She gestured at the door. “Now please, leave me alone.”
“Last thing,” Spike said, hesitantly. “I was doing the finances for the month, and it seems we spent 16,000 bits on something called ‘micro-transactions’? Do you know what those are?”
“They’re the future of love, Spike! Get out!”
Concerned for Twilight’s health -- and her views of romance -- Spike wrote to an expert on the subject. If anypony knew how to deal with the situation, it would be Princess Cadence.
Several minutes later, upstairs, Twilight was lashing her tail and breathing heavily. On screen, Felicity was looking right into her soul, her hooves doing interesting things with her own nether regions.
“So if I were to bite your ears,” she said, “there would be a short-term drop in utility in the form of your pain, but that warm, beautiful feeling of being taken by a passionate lover would result in a net gain. From this example, we can see that negative event avoidance is an overly simplistic—”
The kissing sound effect triggered again.
“Oh, and we’ve got a big tip from a long-time viewer. PinkPosterior_233 asks me to say, ‘Hey, Twilight, your brother and I like this channel too, XOXO, Cadence.’” Felicity frowned. “Not sure what that mean-”
Twilight’s scream carried across the whole of Ponyville, and she chucked her laptop clear out the window.
Following a fatal accident Twilight discovers that she actually is immortal, but in a really unpleasant way.
Rarity was asked to give the eulogy at Twilight’s funeral. She did not see this as a special honor, for Twilight loved all her friends equally and any one of them would have been as suitable as her to sing of Twilight’s virtues. But, as Twilight was a head of state, her eulogy would have to be delivered in front of a crowd of thousands, and only Rarity among the group was comfortable with such public speaking.
When the time came, she rose from her seat and began the long walk to the front of the room. The funeral was being held in the great hall of Canterlot Palace, the same room in which Cadence and Shining Armor had been wed. Rows of benches had been added to accommodate the mourners, and though Rarity had been saved a spot at the front, she had for some reason known only to her chosen to sit at the back.
Thus, she had to walk up the aisle, in a grim parody of a mare on her wedding day -- past the benches, past the closed casket that held Twilight’s mangled body, up the stone steps, up to the dias.
“I knew Twilight,” she said, and despite herself, she struggled to keep her voice even. “Many times, we discussed death, though I always thought… I thought that, as an alicorn, she would surely outlive me. I thought it would be she standing here, saying nice things about me, an eternally youthful alicorn talking about the old mare in the casket.”
A murmur passed through the room. In the front row, Fluttershy quietly wept. “During those discussions, she would often say, that though ponies’ bodies must inevitably perish, their spirits live on in the memories of their good friends, in the recollections of those whose lives they touched. It was so sweet, so comforting when I thought she would be carrying my memory. But now that I have to…”
Rarity let out a long breath, willing herself to go on: “I’ll always remember the day she told me, ‘Rarity, help, it’s literal, I’m alive in your memories.’ We were sitting in Sugercube Corner, and she’d ordered her usual -- coffee, a scone, and a blackboard for drawing magical diagrams, ‘Rarity, I need you to perform this ritual’ she said. ‘It’s the only way for me to get out.’”
Sniffling, Rarity blew her nose: “That was in her first year in Ponyville, before she was even an alicorn. We were so young then.”
“When Twilight first became an alicorn, I worried I would have to share her with public life, that her duties would take her away from us. But now I find myself glad that you are all here to remember her as well. That thousands of ponies recall her coronation speech, ‘Help, please help me, I’m trapped!’ and ‘Oh no, all I can do is relive the memories of others over and over. Is this hell? Was I a bad pony?’”
A few ponies laughed, some cried. “You weren’t a bad pony, Twilight,” Rarity said. “You were our friend, and everything we wanted you to be.”
She steeled herself for the hardest part of the eulogy, the one that to the last moment she’d considered removing -- but Twilight deserved the truth. “Nopony knew,” Rarity said, “but Twilight and I were… romantic.” A soft gasp passed through the room. “Lovers. It all started one spring night in the rain, when she took cover under the canopy of Carousel Boutique. I invited her in, made her tea, and we…”
Rarity choked up, holding a hoof to her face, tears welled up in her eyes: “And the next morning, she said, ‘oh hey, maybe this isn’t so bad. What else can I do?’”
“Classic Twilight,” Applejack nodded, and the rest of the Mane 6 agreed.
“Of course,” Rarity said, “that was right before the string of bank robberies.”
Star Swirl reveals the disappointing truth about one of the great mysteries he left behind.
“At last,” Twilight proclaimed, lifting a hoof to the heavens, “with your help, I shall unravel the mystery of the Rainbow Tesseract! That artifact which for generations has defied the greatest minds of-”
“That’s a Rubic’s Cube,” Starswirl said, slowly taking a bite of his sandwich. Twilight wasn’t sure where he’d gotten it -- they were in the library together, and Spike hadn’t made sandwiches that morning. Perhaps he’d brought it with him. “Two Rubic’s Cubes, actually.”
“What? No. What?” Twilight hesitated. “It’s a tesseract. A four-dimensional object. It can’t be-”
“It’s two broken Rubic’s Cubes,” Starswirl said, gesturing at Twilight’s diagrams. “Somepony thought they were one object and, I don’t know, came up with the idea that the ‘extra’ pieces were extra because they’re supposed to be in some fourth dimension? But no, it’s just two regular old cubes. Rainbow colored because uh… well. Yes.”
“Oh,” Twilight paused, trying not to show her disappointment. Eventually, she put her books away. “Well, that’s fine. Instead, we shall unravel the mystery of Artemis, Lost Alicorn of the Moon, repudiated to be sister to Celestia and Luna, though-”
“Minotaurs find ‘Luna’ really hard to pronounce,” Starswirl said, “something about how their language pronounces u. So she asked them to call her Artemis. It’s like when a kirin says ‘call me Joe’ because Equestrians can’t pronounce their real name correctly. But no, it’s just her.”
“Ah,” Twilight drew in a long breath through gritted teeth. “Well that would make sense, wouldn’t it? Of course, that does make the intervening thousand years of temples, theology, cults, and prophesy feel a bit less important.”
“Religion was always dumb.” Starswirl shrugged, and took another bite of his sandwich.
“Fine. We’ll uncover the resting place of the One Ring of Power?”
“If you’re into archeology, sure. But it’s just a Ring of Mental Domination. That same spell your friend Starlight is so fond of?” He gestured vaguely. “It was a much bigger deal after it was just invented when unicorns didn’t have any defense against mind control. Now it’s -- I mean. It’s still neat.”
“The true origins of the Idol of Boreus?”
“It was just a fancy gold cup. I think a dragon goldsmith made it? But it wasn’t like, magic or anything. Honestly I don’t know why griffons made such a big deal of it.”
“Secret of pegasus flight?”
“They flap their wings real hard. Also magic. I’m not sure this one is even a secret.”
“Humans: Real or Myth?”
Starswirl made a face. “Obviously real, but not native to our dimension. You’ve seen them in the mirror portal. If you mean, was there ever a human civilization in Equestria, no.”
“Fine.” Twilight threw her hooves up. “Fine. Fine! Well, here’s one that you can’t possibly know the answer to, smarty-hooves, because most of this mystery happened while you were turned to stone. We will use your historical knowledge and my contemporary understanding of Equestria to finally provide a definitive view of the history of the Three Tribes. We will at long last answer the question -- why did the pony tribes come together so many times, only to split apart again, trapped in a seemingly endless cycle?”
“They came together,” Starswirl said, “and then unicorns did a bunch of like, super racist stuff?”
A long pause hung over them. “You know,” Starswirl said, “like trying to turn earth ponies into servants, or trapping the magic of all pony tribes in three crystals. Something like that?”
“Yeah,” Twilight sighed, taking a seat at the table beside him. “Yeah that’s probably it.”
Eventually, when the sounds of chewing distracted her, she asked: “That smells delicious. Where did you get it?”
“That, young wizard,” Starswirl boomed, “is a mystery the answer to which you will never know!”
A pony (or whatever) comes to Ponyville and talks up all the useful applications of her new invention.
That invention is fire.
“Step right up, step right up!” Flim called, telekinetically whirling a cane beside him in that way only unicorns can. “See the technological marvel that’s going to change the face of Equestria forever. It prepares food, warms the home on cold days, provides light where before there was only darkness.”
Flam tipped his had to the crowd, picking up where his brother left off. “And it has industrial applications too. Stare in amazement as mortal ponies shape metal, prepare charcoal, and use our marvelous creation to produce a hundred other products that will change your lives forever!”
The mane six sat, stood, and hovered a few dozen yards from Flim and Flam’s tent, their expressions each some variation on the core concept of “befuddlement.”
There was a banner over the tent, advertising the abstract concept of fire with the tagline: “It’s Catching!”
“This…” Rarity gestured vaguely in the tents direction, her mouth pulled down into a tight frown. “This is some sort of prank, yes? A performance art show?”
“If so, they’ve got a lot of… what’s the term? Ringers?” Applejack gestured at the line of excited ponies waiting outside Flim and Flam’s tent, eager to see this marvelous new creation. “Too many. I know some of those ponies.”
“Maybe they’re all, um…” Fluttershy hesitated. “Beguiled? Charmed? Mind controlled? Has anypony seen Starlight today?”
“She promised not to do that anymore.”
“Twilight I would never speak badly of your friends…” Fluttershy began.
“Nah. They’re not brain-whammied,” Pinkie shook her head. “Look at them, they’re chatting in line, joking with their friends. Not a glassy-eyed stare among them! Except for one-eyed Pony Pete and his glassy eye of course.”
“Screw it,” Rainbow shook herself out. “I’m going to go see what’s in there.” Without waiting for the rest of the group, she darted ahead, flying over the line and straight in through the flap of the tent.
A tense moment passed. Flim, Flam, and Rainbow’s friends alike all stared at the tent flap through which she had vanished.
With a scream, Rainbow Dash shot back out of the tent wreathed in flames, her mane, tail, and feathers all combusting before their eyes. “Fire, fire!” she screamed, shooting off into town and crashing into the nearest horse trough. She desperately hurled herself into the water, trying to extinguish the flames.
Quick on the draw, Flim lifted his cane to the sky: “Another satisfied customer!” The ponies in line burst into a round of spontaneous applause.
“But,” Twilight exclaimed, “that only raises further questions!”
Discord give Zephyr Breeze his chaos power for one day.
Rainbow Dash leaned in close, grabbed Zephyr’s head with both hooves, and pulled him forwards into a slow and passionate kiss. His eyes at first went wide, but in time they fluttered shut, and as they shut, his wings and tail rose to match. They were alone, two birds on a cloud.
Rainbow’s eyes were gray, wisps of chaos magic floated off her tail. When their kiss broke, she brushed herself against him for the sheer joy of physical contact, and pressed her muzzle so gently against his ear. “You’re a stallion.”
“Well,” Zephyr laughed, a nervous, trill sound. “You know it, babe. You like what you see?”
“Oh yes.” Her voice was so low and sultry she nearly purred. “I’m a mare who knows what she wants, Zephyr, and doomed stallions turn me on.”
“Hah hah.” Zephyr said, and after a moment added a slightly stiffer. “Hah hah. What?”
Gently, slowly, she took his ear between her teeth and nibbled. With the tip of a primary feather she tickled his underside, starting with his chest and working towards his tail. Her breath was hot and humid against the side of his face. “I’m going to make love to you, Zephyr Breeze. I’m beguiled, I’m charmed. You used all the powers of a god to claim me, and I am like an animal in heat.”
She returned to gripping his head with both hooves, forcefully turning him so he stared into her eyes, and she into his. “And when Discord takes his powers back, and my mind returns to normal, I’m going to paint Ponyville with your blood.”
“Uh…” Zephyr froze to the spot for half a second, then made a half-hearted wave of a hoof. “I think the chaos magic baked your mind a little too hard, Rainbow dear. That isn’t you.”
“Oh, no. No, no, my beautiful stud of a pony, your chaos magic made me yearn for you.” It was with loving tenderness that she kissed the tip of his muzzle. “It’s when the magic wears off, and normal Rainbow remembers how you took advantage of her, that’s the Rainbow that’s going to cut open your guts and strangle you with your own intestines. That’s the Rainbow that’s going to saw off both your wings and shove them in your orifices. But me?”
A shiver passed through her. “I’m the Rainbow that gets to make love to a dead stallion, and sweet Celestia,” she nibbled his neck. “I love it.”
“Uhhhhh…” Zephyr broke out into a cold sweat. “I uh… I gotta go. Do some… chaos stuff. Chocolate rain, you know? Ha ha. But, rain check for later, beautiful!”
With a clap of his hooves, he vanished.
A moment later, Discord appeared beside Rainbow. “How’d it go?”
“Perfect,” she pulled her gray contact lenses out. “That guy is a piece of work.”
Intellectually, Twilight understands it will take many years of practical experience ruling the country before she acquires the casual, measured hoof at doing so that looked so effortless when employed by Celestia.
That's not going to stop her from trying to speedrun it, though.
From high atop her throne, Twilight stared down at the griffon who would be king. Behind her crackled a wall of purple fire, the only illumination in her throne room. So backlit, she was little more than a shadow, her eyes pools of the deepest darkness. The flickering light played across the rest of the great hall, over stained glass, over stone pillars, suggestions of irregular geometry. The golden armor of her royal guard occasionally flashed, a hint of reflection, but it was somehow never quite clear how many guards there were. Enough though, surely enough.
“And I shall strike down with great power and terrible anger,” Twilight said, voice cold and imperious, “those who would poison and destroy my ponies, and you will know that I am the Princess of Heaven when I lay my vengeance down upon thee.”
There were three griffons in the diplomatic party, the one who would be king, his bodyguard, his aide. The bodyguard cowered in fright, and the aide seemed to have wet himself. The griffon who was as yet only a warlord held his crown in his talons.
“Listen carefully, King Grover, for these are the most important words any griffon shall ever hear.” Twilight leaned forward, and for a moment the flames illuminated her face, rendering visible the cold fury in her eyes. “If you do not release the ponies you have enslaved, I shall proclaim the coming of a flood like no other -- a flood of fire. Raindrops like burning oil shall fall upon the griffons, and those who seek shelter above shall find all the clouds touch reduced to cinders. For a hundred days and a hundred nights shall your mountains burn, until when the clouds at last part, there will be nothing but bones and burnt brickwork to mark that a civilization ever stood there.”
The aide started to weep. Grover, talons shaking, threw his crown at Twilight’s hooves. “It shall be as you command, Your Highness. I… please. Please.”
“Good,” Twilight said, returning to her straight-backed, shadowed pose.
Then, with the click of an electrical switch, she turned the lights back on. Fluorescent lamps flickered to life on the ceiling, bathing the throne room in a cost-effective pale white illumination. Two pyrotechnic unicorns appeared from the wings to extinguish the wall of fire.
“Before you go,” Twilight said, “please fill out these surveys about your experience with me as a divine ruler. Please be honest! Accurate, constructive feedback is critical to self-improvement.”
An aide handed out clipboards to the three griffon representatives, they each had a little pen attached with a chain. Slowly, Grover skimmed the list.
Question #1: What is your appraisal of Princess Twilight’s willingness to use spells of mass destruction on rival civilizations? (Check one)
[ ] It’s definitely a credible threat. [ ] It’s probably a credible threat. [ ] It’s probably not a credible threat. [ ] I could tell she was bluffing.
Question #2: If you believed Princess Twilight was willing to use spells of mass destruction on your civilization, how likely is this to result in an arms race that will poison both our societies for years to come?
[ ] Very likely. [ ] Depends how easy it is to develop our own doomsday enchantments. [ ] Not very likely. [ ] N/A, I could tell she was bluffing.
Question #3: Do you feel the darkened throne room, wall of fire, and other visual elements enhanced Twilight’s attempts to intimidate you into compliance?
[ ] Absolutely [ ] Maybe [ ] No [ ] It made her less intimidating.
It went on like that. Grover the griffon skimmed the document, flipping through several pages until he got to the end. “Is there a section for general feedback?”
“Oh, no. That’s a separate form.” Twilight said. “Or you could just give me your feedback now. I like to think I cultivate an atmosphere of being approachable and open to suggestions.”
Grover cleared his throat. “I feel the survey at the end somewhat detracted from the overall experience. These things are uh…”
“Oh!” Twilight’s ears perked up. “Don’t worry, I have that covered.” She rummaged around beside the throne until she found the small bag she was looking for.
“Now,” she pulled the plastic cards from within, “upon completion of the survey, you will be eligible for a twenty-bit gift card to the following stores of your choice—”
Ponies make an edgy cult around Luna. Luna is okay with that.
Luna knocked on the front door of Canterlot Palace. This was strange for several reasons. First among these was that, as a princess, she could have let herself in. Second was that, as an alicorn, she could fly to any of the balconies instead of using the ground level entrance. Third was that, at the time she knocked, she was wearing a black cloak, carrying a traffic cone, and reeked of liquor.
She also had a pony skull tucked under one leg, and informed the door guard that his name was “Pony Yorik” and that his spirit was “very tormented.”
Celestia was summoned by the palace staff, arriving just in time to see Luna enter the royal banquet hall and start eating the table decorations.
“Oh for Mom’s sake, Luna!” Celestia’s hoof rose to her face. “What happened this time?”
“I have a cult,” Luna said, as she slowly and exactingly ate a bouquet of flowers. “They gather beneath the full moon every month to honor me with dark rituals.”
“With dark rituals.” Celestia’s tone turned dry. “Really.”
“Anything you do in the woods at night is dark, sister,” Luna said. “And ritual…y. Ritualish. Ritual-ed. Yes.” She paused for a moment to clarify. “Ponies do a lot of things in the dark.”
“Do these rituals have any actual magical properties, or are they just drugs, drinking, and sex?”
“Sister, if you don’t know that sex can be magical, you really should try dating again. You just need to meet the right mare,” Luna belched, “or stallion.”
Celestia stared aa Luna finished off the bouquet, then lifted the pony skull to her ear. “What? Oh, yes. I’m sorry. You’re right, I should be more inclusive.” She turned to look head on at Celestia, or as head on as she could manage while swaying on her feet. “Right mare, or stallion, or pair of stallions. We do not judge.”
Another of Celestia’s hooves rose to her face. “Why are you like this!?”
“That,” Luna said, “is a matter of great theological debate.”
In the middle of doing otherwise unremarkable paperwork with her, Trixie casually informs Starlight that her name is actually spelled "Tricksy" and she's just never corrected anyone.
Starlight sat in her office, across from that little blue and silver mare. She stared at her over the oak desk, over the stacks of paperwork, penetrating gaze evaluating that tricky creature from horn to hoof. Starlight’s expression was one of quiet concentration, focused attention, wheels turning inside her head as she worked towards some decision.
“No,” she finally said, turning back to her work. “It’s ‘Trixie.’”
“I think I know how to spell my own name,” Trixie laughed. “It’s… wait.” Trixie paused. “No, it’s ‘T-r-i-c-k-s-y.’ Trixie. Trixie.” Her tone quickly shifted from casual conversation to active alarm. “Starlight, what did you do!?”
“We agreed when we got married we were both going to have to make some changes,” Starlight replied, eyes still down on her paperwork. “I promised to go on the road with you every year even if it wasn’t convenient to my schedule, you promised to give up pony meth, I promised to make nice with your family, all that.”
“What does that have to do with my name?” Trixie demanded, suddenly gripping her head in a moment of existential crisis.
“You remember how you promised to stop doing things that were ‘blatently stupid’?”
“Of course I remember, it was in our wedding vows! I had to say it at the altar!” Trixie snapped, her grip on her head tightening. “Starlight, my name is spelled T-r-i-c-”
Starlight waved a hoof. “No. No.”
“What did you do?” Trixie demanded. “Did you do magic? Did you? Trixie. Trixie!”
“You’re the one who swore a vow to an evil sorceress,” Starlight replied, blase. “Wait, sorry, you’re the one who swore a vow to a school headmaster. The point is, you shouldn’t be surprised it’s actually enforced.”
“I would never have sworn an oath against stupid things if I knew it would actually be enforced,” Trixie snapped. “And you know it! Now let me say my own name right!”
A long silence hung between them.
“Okay,” Starlight says, “your name will keep being spelled ‘Trixie,’ but you can start doing pony meth again.”
In pony heaven, Celestia listens to a group of ponies from different periods in history discussing the changes her reign brought to the world.
Privately, Celestia felt that pegasus got cheated in the afterlife. Unicorns and earth ponies got white feathered wings when they ascended to the celestial realms. All pegasus got were halos, and Celestia knew from personal experience that having a light source directly behind one's head could get irritating fast.
Nonetheless, three angels gathered, one unicorn, one pegasus, and one earth pony, all hovering over her palace at Canterlot before an awed crowd of their mortal kin.
“With the passing of Princess Celestia,” the pegasus proclaimed, his voice high and pure, “the heavens themselves shall deliver her eulogy, as we three who lived through three generations of her rule recount the stories of her days.”
“We shall tell the story,” the earth pony said, “of the time she collectivized agriculture, and the resulting famine.”
“Then we shall tell the story,” the unicorn said, “of the time she privatized agriculture, and the resulting famine.”
“Then we shall tell the story of how she attempted local administration of agriculture,” said the pegasus, “and the resulting famine. Truely, she did not quite seem to know what she was doing with agriculture, but eventually she let it alone, and ponies worked it out without her help.”
“And then we shall tell the story,” said the earth pony, “of her days as a blacksmith, for I lived in that primitive era, and though she spent many hours hitting metal with other bits of metal, she was it was observed, a hopeless craftspony.”
“And then we shall tell the story,” said the unicorn, “of her days as a merchant princess, for I lived in the age of sail, and was crew on her flagship as she sold all of North Mareika to the griffons for fifty bits and some food, which she thought was a good deal at the time.”
“And then we shall the story,” said the pegasus, “of the industrial revolution and her days as a Captain of Industry, when drawing upon her previous naval experience, she attempted to put Equestria’s steel industry to sea. Lo, she was pretty much the same with both agricultural and industrial policy, but eventually it worked out without her.”
“And last of all,” said the unicorn, “we shall tell the story of how she united Equestria, for she looked good, regal but also hot, and the ponies of all tribes were desperate for an end to the constant wars, and thought, ‘eh, she’ll do.’ And she did suffice, for her suggestibility as a ruler and total lack of independent political opinions, assured that she was always on the side of whatever cause was most popular at the time, and so her rule was never questioned.”
“And now,” said the pegasus, “she passes from the mortal world, and leaves her kingdom to a nineteen year old girl with no political experience outside of organizing small town festivals. Truely, it is the perfect capstone on her thousand year rule.”
Celestia looked down into the crowd, and saw Twilight staring up at her. Twilight couldn’t see her of course, but there were tears in her eyes all the same.
“Thanks, Princess,” Twilight said to the heavens. “You taught me everything I know.”
Then, after the eulogy, she appointed her best friends to important government posts, without regards to their qualifications.
