I was there the day our world stopped making sense.
The official welcoming banquet for myself and the rest of Freeport’s military leadership had been somewhat delayed on account of the battle with Heritor Azurite, but it added an extra layer of celebration to the whole event. Equestria had been happy enough just to have another nation backing them up. Now that we’d actually tipped the balance and won a major victory, my return to Canterlot felt almost like a triumphal victory parade.
Celestia helped contribute to the mood by sending one of her personal chariots to meet me at the edge of the city, accompanied by a substantial honor guard. Then, instead of taking me directly to the palace, the guards led my retinue on a grand tour of the city. I couldn’t complain too much about getting the royal treatment—diplomatically speaking I was technically her equal now, even if I didn’t have wings.
That was a strange feeling. Celestia had been both my teacher and my mother in all but name for a huge chunk of my childhood. Not to mention she was the immortal and eternal ruler of all Equestria. The idea of talking to her as an equal was ... weird. I might’ve grown up, left the nest, and forged my own destiny, but I couldn’t just act like she was just another foreign leader.
I spent a lot of the chariot ride mulling that over. If nothing else, it distracted me from the sights. Passing through Canterlot’s outskirts was ... unsettling. We passed by hundreds of empty homes with overgrown lawns and boarded-up windows, warehouses stocked with war materiel, and grim factories where exhausted ponies staggered through the doors to work twelve hour shifts. Canterlot wasn’t the city of light and laughter I remembered. How could it be, when almost all the ponies there there had either gone off to fight in the war or were working themselves to the bone to support the war effort? We passed by a group of kids who should’ve been playing some silly game in the streets. Instead they were collecting scrap metal in a battered old wagon.
It could’ve been worse. From what I’d heard, the last year of high school had been replaced with boot camp, and instead of a graduation ceremony the kids got a suit of armor, a spear, and a train ride to the front lines. Equestria was fighting for its very survival against Sombra. Anyone who could contribute to the war effort had to, no matter the cost.
As we moved into the city proper, it started to resemble the Canterlot I remembered. The ponies looked a bit leaner and more tired, and the white marble towers didn’t gleam quite as brightly as they had in my memories, but it was still Canterlot. Our procession gradually drew an audience, which grew as word spread and more and more ponies started to filter in. A rumble started up as the ponies began stomping their approval on the ground, and before long cheers and shouts joined them. A couple enterprising musicians started up Freeport’s anthem, and next thing I knew my procession had somehow become the centerpiece of a spontaneous victory parade. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t love seeing hundreds of ponies cheering my name.
It didn’t take for long for both myself and Kukri to start playing to the crowd, smiling and waving. Not even seeing Kukri in her natural form deterred their enthusiasm. I guess it shouldn’t have been a surprise—after years of total war, the ponies probably would’ve cheered for anyone who could promise them an end to all their suffering.
Kukri leaned over and discretely whispered to me. “Canterlot looks a bit less romantic than what this one thought it would. The Shimmer-mare’s descriptions of it were always more...” She trailed off, struggling to find the right word.
“It’s not how I remember it either,” I murmured back. “The war's been hard for everyone.”
Kukri grimaced and nodded. “No kidding. The White Pony must have pulled out all the stops if even the capital is looking this grim.”
“Equestria’s had to throw everything it could spare into the war against Sombra.” I sighed, a twinge of guilt passing through me as I spotted a bandaged-up soldier who’d clearly slipped out of the military hospital to see us. The guilt doubled when I realized that some of those battered combat veterans were younger than Kukri. “I should've gotten Freeport involved sooner. I read the reports, but...”
Kukri squeezed my shoulder. “You had a hay of a time talking them into it as it was, Shimmer-mare. Half the Council didn’t see any reason to get involved as long as Sombra didn’t directly threaten Freeport’s interests, the mercenaries thought Sombra might pay better, and the clans have ... history with the White Pony.”
My eyes flicked back to the clan soldiers marching behind us. “I guess this is kind of a homecoming for them, isn't it?”
Kukri frowned uncertainly. “Yes and no. This one supposes that Equestria is our ancient homeland, but it’s been hundreds of years since we left. Not to mention ... well, this one isn’t sure what the old masters from before the war would make of the clans. It can’t imagine they anticipated the likes of this one among their ranks, and a lot’s changed since the days of old Pegasopolis.” Her eyes drifted over the city. “And yet, this one does feel a sort of connection to this place. It’s not exactly home, but it’s ... something.” She took a deep breath. “And even if it’s not this one’s home, it’s yours. That makes it important to this one as well.”
“Thanks.” I smiled and gave her a quick pat on the back, but the smile faded as my thoughts went down a darker path. It was hard to bring up Kukri’s family legacy without thinking on my own, such as it was. “I suppose I should check on my old family home. Wrap everything up and whatnot.” With my parents dead, it was presumably mine now. It felt wrong to leave the place completely empty after it had been in the family for centuries. Maybe I could convert it into ... no. It was a family house. Turning it into a Freeport embassy or something else just felt wrong.
Not that I especially wanted to live there either. Even leaving aside the fact that I was needed in Freeport, I’d barely been to the place since Celestia took me in. Going back now that the place was little better than an empty tomb wouldn’t accomplish anything.
Kukri nudged me. “Shimmer-mare, smile for the crowd.”
I blinked, then quickly plastered a grin on my face as I resumed waving. “Right. I was just thinking about ... stuff.”
My apprentice grunted and nodded. “At least you avenged them. And that’s just the start of it—by the time we’re done, you’ll probably have destroyed Sombra and helped conquer the Crystal Empire. Oh, and you might heal the centuries-old divide between the Freeport Clans and Equestria in your spare time.” She frowned playfully. “You realize the high bar you’re setting for your pupils, don’t you? This one’s always thought that the student should eventually surpass the teacher, but you’re not leaving this one with much room to work with.”
I snickered, and my smile became a bit more genuine. “I’m sure you’ll manage.” I started waving to the crowd again, which seemed to excite them far more than it really should have. “In any case, if you can’t eclipse me you can always carry on my legacy.” I set a hoof on her shoulder and squeezed gently. “I can’t change the world all by myself. Someone will need to go out and actually do stuff while I’m busy being a ruler.”
Kukri beamed, her chest swelling with pride. “This one won’t let you down, Shimmer-mare. Stopping Sombra is just the beginning—reforming Freeport, reconciling the clans with the White Pony, and so many other things.” She took a deep breath. “This one doesn’t know if it can equal you, Shimmer-mare, but it will be there by your side every step of the way. It will be honored to stand at your side.”
I beamed at her. “I wouldn’t want you anywhere else.” Kukri had come a long way from the cute little kid who’d practically tripped over herself for my attention and approval. I’d never really expected to be much of a teacher, but I liked to think I’d done a reasonably good job with her. She might not have my raw talent for magic, but she had a good head on her shoulders, listened to what I told her, and worked hard at mastering every spell I assigned. A lot of teachers would love to have a smart student with that kind of dedication, natural talent or no.
A trio of mares bearing wreaths trotted towards the chariots, giving our golems wary looks and a wide berth as they approached. Once they were close enough they carefully placed the wreaths on the chariot. The flowers didn’t look especially healthy and none of them were edible, but it was the thought that counted. I smiled and nodded at them. “Thank you.”
Kukri echoed me, and the mares scampered back into the crowd. Apparently they weren’t the only ones who thought flowers were a good idea, because before long flower petals started raining down on us. Several hastily drawn banners had gone up, thanking us for joining the war. A few of the locals were even more direct about showing their thanks—the prettier members of my retinue couldn’t seem to go ten steps without someone rushing up to hug or kiss them.
Kukri snickered and jokingly pouted. “Why don’t any of them kiss this one? It could do with a little snack. Being a hero is hard work.” She smirked and nudged me. “At least it knows why you aren’t bothered—you’ve already got a marefriend in Manehattan.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m pretty sure she was just happy about being liberated, same as them.” I grinned and nudged her back. “You’re just getting passed over on account of being up here with me. If you wanna hop off...”
Kukri thought it over for a moment, then shrugged. “This one’s good. Flattering as it would be, receiving love from a complete stranger would feel odd.” She paused thoughtfully. “Though the fact this one could if it wanted to.is ... notable. Ponies will be much less frightened by Free Minds after this. Even in Freeport, we try to keep a low profile. Being able to openly walk through Canterlot in our natural forms sounds ... nice.”
“It’s a brave new world on the horizon.” The crowd gradually thinned as we got closer to the palace, replaced by Celestia’s royal guard. They dipped their spears in salute as my chariot passed as trumpeteers announced our arrival.
Celestia herself was waiting for us on the steps of the palace. At first glance, she hadn’t changed a bit from how she’d looked the last time I saw her—one of the perks of immortality. However, a closer look revealed tired bags under her eyes that no amount of makeup could hide, and her massive flowing mane didn’t seem to have quite as much bounce as I remembered. She seemed to move a bit more slowly and carefully as she moved down the steps to meet us, lacking just a bit of the casual grace she usually walked with.
She looked ... old. A strange thing to say about an unaging immortal, but there it was. Years of fighting to keep Equestria alive had been enough to wear even her down.
Kukri stared at her, her jaw hanging open. “This one ... it had heard the Shimmer-mare’s stories, but it never really believed the White Pony was so...”
I guess she couldn’t tell how worn down Celestia was. To someone just seeing her for the first time, she probably looked so amazing it was easy to miss those details. Or maybe I was one of the few who knew her well enough to see them.
The chariot pulled to a stop, and the two of us stepped out. I hesitated just a second, unsure of how to handle this. On the one hoof, she was the head of state of an allied nation and a powerful, dignified immortal; on the other, she was pretty much my de facto mom, especially now that the only other mare with any claim to the title was gone. There was a big difference between how Archon Shimmer would greet Princess Celestia and how Sunset would say hi to Mom.
Kukri seemed to notice my hesitation. “This one will follow your lead, Shimmer-mare.”
I took a deep breath and made my decision. “She’s the ruler of Equestria, and we’re in public with a huge crowd watching us. Let’s be formal about this.” I approached her with a polite smile, then cleared my throat. “Princess Celestia, on behalf of Freeport I—”
Before I could say another word, Celestia snatched me up and hugged me so hard I could feel my ribs creaking. “Thank you, Sunset. Thank you so much...”
As I recovered from my surprise and hugged her back, Kukri couldn’t resist tossing in a bit of sass. “Yes, of course. Very formal.”
While the rest of my retinue got settled in, Celestia led me to her private library. Or at least, mostly private—a purple unicorn was nose-deep in a book when we got there. Celestia smiled when she saw her, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Sunset, this is my current student, Twilight Sparkle. Twilight, this is Archon Sunset Shimmer, a former student of mine.”
I smiled politely and offered my hoof. “Hello. It’s nice to meet you.”
Sparkle barely glanced up from her book. “Oh. Hi.”
She went right back to reading a second later, as though neither of us were there. The silence stretched on long enough for things to get awkward until Celestia gently cleared her throat. “Twilight, the Archon and I need to discuss a few things in private. Would you mind...?”
“Right.” She marked her place and got up from her seat, trotting out the library to leave the two of us alone.
Once she’d left I tried to think of something nice to say about the mare who’d seemed so focused on her studies she was downright antisocial. “She’s ... a very dedicated student.”
“Yes, she enjoys reading books and writing reports.” A hint of a teasing grin worked its way onto her lips as she nudged me. “Quite a bit more than certain other students I could think of.”
I shrugged. “I was always better at casting spells using Midnight’s addendum to Sunbeam’s Third Law of Thermodynamic Evocation than I was at writing a five-paragraph essay explaining how it worked.”
“Or you just had no patience for it,” Celestia countered, her grin widening. A second later the smile faded slightly, her eyes cutting to the door Twilight had left from. “Though I suppose there is something to be said for valuing practical skills over having a firm grasp of theory and academics. Lessons do eventually need to be applied.”
It wasn’t hard to figure out something was bothering her. Probably something related to her new student, not that she would ever admit it. “Everything okay?”
Celestia sighed softly. “Sunset, I’m in the middle of a desperate war to keep Equestria from being conquered by an insane megalomaniac who wants to reduce my subjects to mind-controlled slaves. It will be a long time before everything is okay.”
“Right.” I was smart enough to read between the lines and pick up on what she’d left unsaid. When Equestria needed every resource it could spare just to stay alive, reading books and writing reports on them wasn’t the most useful skill.
Celestia smiled again, doing her best to move past the awkward moment. “I suppose you understand everything I went through, now that you have your own academy in Freeport. I should be flattered you wanted to copy my school for gifted unicorns.”
“It’s not an exact copy,” I offered in my own defense. “I guess I did take some inspiration from you but ... well, why not follow the example set by the best school there is?”
“There’s no need for flattery, though it is appreciated.” Celestia chuckled. “But yes, as with so many things you’ve forged your own path with your school. If nothing else, your choice of apprentice made that clear. Kukri seems like a fine young lady.”
“I’m proud of her.” I smiled fondly, thinking back on the cute little bug and how much she’d grown up. For a kid who’d started off with no particular talent for magic and the complications that came from a unicorn trying to teach a changeling magic, she’d turned out amazingly.
After meeting Celestia’s latest student, it was hard not to compare the two. Kukri was a magus fighting on the front lines with her own battle golems, while Twilight Sparkle just seemed to be ... lost. Just reading books in the library and avoiding contact with anyone else while the world slowly crumbled around her. She must’ve had huge potential for Celestia to take her in as a student, but for some reason that potential had never come to fruition.
I took a deep breath, and broached the issue without directly mentioning it. “Feels a bit weird though, having Kukri on the battlefield with me. Part of me will always think of her as that cute little kid who was so desperate to please me.”
A wistful smile crossed lips. “I know that feeling all too well. I still remember when you were an adorable little filly playing on my throne pretending you were a princess. Now ... well, I could swear I see a grey hair in your mane.”
“What?” I conjured up an ice mirror and started searching for the offending hair. I probably would’ve kept it up for far too long if I hadn’t heard the chuckles Celestia wasn’t quite able to keep hidden. I dispelled the mirror and glowered at her. “You were just messing with me, weren’t you?”
She smiled teasingly. “Perhaps.”
I grimaced, knowing there was no way to win this. “You’ve got a real mean streak sometimes, Celestia.” I gave her a playful nudge to let her know I didn’t really mean it. “But if you can get away with teasing me about grey hairs, I guess that proves that I've come a long way from writing book reports.”
She smirked at me. “Speaking of growing up, I probably should start asking about grandchildren to spoil if you’re going to insist that I’m a second mother to you. It’s traditional, and in any case you will need an heir.”
I groaned and buried face in my hooves, which just made Celestia start laughing again. No light chuckles this time, it was full-blown belly laughter until there were tears in her eyes. By the time she was done, she was almost gasping for breath, and I was actually getting a little worried. Then she hugged me again. “Oh, it’s been too long since I laughed like that. Thank you, Sunset. Canterlot just hasn’t been the same without you.” She sighed wistfully. “I know every student needs to go out into the real world eventually, and you've done wonderfully at that. Even if we didn’t initially part of the best of terms, it’s ... you’ve grown into a wonderful mare.”
I grunted and nodded. “It wasn’t always an easy road, and there are a lot of things I would’ve done differently, but I’d rather do what I did than never leave the nest.”
“That I can't disagree with.” She frowned, her eyes pensively flicking towards the door Twilight had exited. “There were worse paths you could have gone down.”
Time to stop being subtle and dive right in. “Mind if I ask a personal question?”
“Go ahead.” Her smile fell a bit. “It’s ... I suppose one of the more selfish reasons I’m glad you’re the Archon of Freeport is that now we can truly speak as equals.”
That sounded nice in theory, but I doubted I’d ever stop thinking of her as my teacher and mother. Still, I gave it my best shot. “Kukri seems to be about same age as Twilight, and when we landed at Manehattan she had her own ship, company of ground troops, and golems. Your student…?”
She sighed softly and closed her eyes. “Twilight ... yes. If I’m being honest, I’m not sure what to do with her. Ever since she ... how much do you know about the events surrounding my sister's return?”
I frowned and tried to remember what I’d heard. At the time it all went down I’d been in the middle of a bunch of insanity in Zebrica, and far too busy to worry about what was going on thousands of miles away. “I remember the sun going down and not coming back up for a while, and then I heard that Nightmare Moon had returned and you stopped her.”
Celestia flinched, her head hanging low. “Yes, I did. What nobody else knows is that before I intervened personally, I sent Twilight to recover and use a powerful magical artifact to free Luna of her madness.”
I could guess the rest. “It didn’t work?”
She nodded glumly. “I had hoped that Twilight would be able to use the Elements of Harmony to purge Luna of her madness, but she was unable to find and activate them in time. I gave her as much time as I could, but once it was clear that delaying any longer would cost innocent lives...” Her wings wilted, and she couldn’t bring herself to meet my eyes. “I did what was necessary to keep my ponies safe. I think...” Her voice cracked, and it took several seconds before she could continue. “I think that if Luna were well, she would have wanted someone to stop her before she claimed any innocent lives.”
I immediately hugged her. “I’m so sorry.” It sounded so trite and nowhere near sufficient, but I didn’t know what else I could say to her. What could you say to a mare who’d been forced to kill her own sister?
Celestia held me, refusing to let go for a long time. “I had hoped so much to have my sister back, I had everything planned out in detail, but Twilight didn't—” She stopped herself from saying it outright, but I could guess what she’d been thinking. “I suppose plans rarely work neatly, but now my only sister is gone. That is a bitter pill to swallow.”
I sighed and shook my head. “I can’t even imagine what that would feel like.”
She took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “I have endured it, as I have for the last millennium. While Twilight ... the experience with Nightmare Moon shook her, badly. Especially once the gravity of everything that had happened fell on her.”
“So that’s why she’s so…?” I tried to think of a diplomatic way to describe how closed-off and antisocial she was.
“Reserved?” Celestia suggested. “Even before the incident with my sister, she preferred her books to the company of other ponies. However, I cannot imagine her fail—” Celestia caught herself and quickly corrected it. “That everything she went through had a positive effect on her. Not to mention that, like nearly all of my ponies, the war has been hard on her. Her brother was part of Cadance’s expedition to the Crystal Empire.”
I grunted and nodded. “Seems like everypony in Equestria has lost someone.” I sighed and shook my head. “Every time I hear about how bad this war has gone for you, it makes me wish I'd gotten here sooner.”
“You came as quickly as you could,” Celestia reassured me. “Your first responsibility was to your own subjects, not your old homeland. Not to mention that you needed to persuade both them and the Council to risk your own lives and freedom to aid a foreign nation that wasn’t even an ally. It’s amazing you got here as quickly as you did.”
“I know.” I took a deep breath, then slowly let it out. “At least I’m here to help now. That’s the most important thing, right?”
“It is, and as the parade doubtlessly showed we’re all very glad to have you here.” She smiled at me, though it looked far too brittle. “Your help might be what finally tips the balance in a war that has already lasted far too long. Breaking the siege of Manehattan is the first real progress we’ve made since we halted Sombra’s initial offensive.”
“More than two years of stalemate,” I murmured. It was hard not to feel a little proud of the fact that we’d managed to accomplish so much in so little time. “I've heard Sombra’s been pulling back on other fronts since Manehattan. Shortening his lines, reorganizing, and taking stock.”
Celestia nodded. “I did launch a few limited offensives to keep him from diverting too many troops to Manehattan. Your offensive tore a massive hole in his front. Pity we were in no condition to exploit it, but trying to go on the offensive when my army badly needs rest could end in disaster. We’ve still saved Manehattan, defeated his best general, and struck a massive blow against his army. That will be enough for now.”
I trotted over to a large map which showed all our current deployments and our latest intelligence on Sombra’s positions. “Once my army’s done reorganizing in and getting our logistics settled, I’ll see about putting some pressure on Sombra’s lines. I know your soldiers are tired, but at least morale seems to be through the roof.”
Celestia smiled and stepped over to my side. “This has been the best news they’ve had since the Battle of Los Pegasus. Your victory also brings far more than just the defeat of his armies; according to the EIS, Sombra’s supply lines are in terrible shape. He’s forced most of the ponies he captured into his armies and has been stripping his occupied territory bare to keep them in the field. It would seem he was counting on the capture of Manehattan to provide him with fresh plunder, bodies, and access to a warm-water trade port. Not only have you denied him all those things, but with Freeport in the war I expect he will find even fewer willing to trade with him in what ports he does hold.”
“I did my best to deter any smugglers from doing business with him,” I added. Despite all my efforts to clean Freeport up, there were always a few less reputable merchants who couldn’t resist the lure of all the crystals Sombra had to trade.
“Which is all I could ever ask of you, and more than I expected from Freeport.” She settled heavily into one of her seats. “While the cost of this war is heavy for my ponies, they would never surrender to a megalomaniac who intends to turn them all into mindless slaves. Now, with your help, we can finally put an end to this madness.”
“You can count on me.” I hesitated a moment, then carefully amended. “Winning at Manehattan should silence any voices of dissent in Freeport. As long as the war goes our way, I don't think I’ll have any problems on that front. I should probably warn you though, if it turns into a long ugly slog with no visible progress and no clear gains for Freeport, all the people who didn’t want to get involved in the first place will start making noise again.”
A wry grin spread across her lips. “Gains for Freeport. I suppose that several of our current trade agreements will need to be renegotiated after the war. Perhaps a few trade posts in the north as well? The caribou and yaks will certainly be in no position to object.”
I answered her with a smile of my own. “You did say that my first duty was to my own subjects. And really, reducing some tariffs is a small price to pay for saving Equestria.”
Celestia sighed, but the smile never left her face. “I suppose you’re right about that.” She leaned in and whispered. “Besides, I would’ve given you the new trade agreement even without the war. It’s naturally in my interests to support my former student, and handing her a harmless political victory that benefits trade between both our nations is perfectly reasonable. As for the rest ... well it’s entirely possible it could end up being a moot issue.” Her horn lit up, and a hidden doorway behind her bookshelf opened.
I couldn’t resist commenting. “Really? You hid the secret door behind your bookshelf? How clichéd can you get?”
“It wasn’t a cliché when I did it,” Celestia answered. “I half-wonder if I’m the one responsible for planting the idea. One of the many joys of immortality.”
She led me into the sealed room, past dozens of wards that made my skin tingle and my mane stand on end. It was a stark reminder that even if I’d graduated from being her student to become her nominal equal, she still had thousands of years of experience on me.
I wasn’t sure what to expect, but it certainly wasn’t a library. Before I could take much time to see what sort of books Celestia had on the shelves, she pulled out a single scroll and unrolled it in front of me. “I thought it best that you see this ... just in case it should come up.”
I started reading, but put it aside barely a paragraph in. “No, Celestia. We’re not having this conversation.”
She sighed patiently. “Sunset, we’re in the middle of a war—one whose front lines I have personally fought several times. It would be irresponsible not to have some sort of plan in place in the event of my own demise.” She fixed a knowing gaze on me. “I’m sure you made similar arrangements before leaving Freeport. Was it Kukri, or Puzzle?”
“Kukri for Archmagus, Puzzle for Archon,” I confessed. “But that’s different. I’m ... you ... you’re ... there’s no way you could...”
She patiently set a hoof on my shoulder. “I certainly don’t intend to die anytime soon, Sunset. But if the worst should happen, I want to know that Equestria will be in good hooves.”
I grimaced and shook my head. I probably should’ve been honored by it: Celestia was officially adopting me as her daughter and naming me her heir and successor. For a long time that would’ve been a dream come true. Now it felt more like a nightmare. The idea of losing Celestia was just ... I didn’t want to think about it. She’d been alive for thousands of years. Thinking of a world without her was like a world without ... well, the sun.
Oh horseapples, if something happened to her would I have to...
She sighed softly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you so much. We can go over the rest of this a bit later, once you’ve had time to take it all in.
“Right.” I closed my eyes and took a couple deep breaths. “Sorry, I just ... it’s a lot to take in.”
“I know.” She wrapped her wing around me and gave me a gentle squeeze. “Now then, I wouldn’t mind your advice on a few matters. A fresh brain might help us make the war effort more efficient or see something we’ve missed.”
I nodded, quite relieved to have something safe and unthreatening like the war to discuss. “I figured there would be a full joint briefing to decide on our new disposition. If my army’s going to spearhead the next big offensive, we’ll need to hammer out where that offensive should be.”
“Of course,” Celestia agreed easily. “My generals already see a couple promising possibilities they would like to run by you and your commanders. We have a joint briefing scheduled for tomorrow morning.”
“Sounds good.”
She took a deep breath. “In the meantime, there is one other matter I was hoping to discuss with you. I ... was wondering if you had any advice about what I should do with my student.” She chuckled softly. “It seems odd to ask a former student for teaching advice, but you would have unique insight on my teaching methods. Not to mention you seem to have become quite the skilled teacher, if Kukri and your academy are anything to judge by. And Twilight ... it’s obvious my student is troubled, but I’m afraid that with the war I simply don’t have the time or energy to give her the help she needs.”
I frowned and tried to think it over, quickly reaching the only conclusion I could see. “You need to break her out of the rut she’s in. She’s not going to get any better if you just let her sit in the library reading books all day.”
“I know.” She sighed and shook her head. “The problem is deciding on what to do with her. If I send her out into the field ... I know she was badly shaken by her performance on her first assignment, and her mental state and self-confidence have only declined since. If I put her in a magus cloak and send her into battle, I could easily be signing her death warrant. A research job or something in logistics would suit her talents and keep her far away from combat, but there would be questions about why I’m giving my one of my former students a safe job while other ponies send their sons and daughters to die on the front lines.”
I thought it over for a bit. “Send her on a non-combat job. I know you’ve got every half-decent battle magus fighting on the front lines, but I can’t imagine you’ve completely abandoned all other magus activity. Have her do some basic investigation work, settle a legal dispute—something. Just make it a quick job that gives her an easy success to bolster her up a bit and will be done before anyone can get too grumpy about it.”
“A good idea, but only a temporary solution.” Celestia grimaced. “In hindsight, I should have done that before my sister returned. I just ... magus work can be hazardous. Even what looks like a simple, easy, routine task will often prove to be far more than it seems. I remember one of her ancestors ... I could send poor Midnight to mediate a minor succession dispute only for her to return with a report about monsters, murder, and mayhem.”
“I can think of a few jobs I had that went the same way.” I frowned down at the map. “That’s a chance we’ll have to take. If we don’t send her out to do anything because it might be more dangerous than it looks, she’ll still be in your library when she’s old and grey. After she wraps up those softball assignments ... send her to me. We’ll need liaisons and officer exchanges, and sending your current student to work with a former one should look fine to any outside observers.” With any luck, I would be able to give her the kick in the plot she needed to actually do something with her life.
Celestia smiled, looking like a weight had been taken off her shoulders. “That sounds like an excellent idea. I just hope she doesn’t take this as me casting her aside.”
“It’s not like we parted on the best of terms either. We both got over it.” I regretted getting into a big fight with her when I’d stopped being her student, but we’d eventually patched things up. Twilight needed to move forward with her life, and Celestia wouldn’t be doing her any favors by keeping silent just to avoid hurting her feelings. “Once the war’s over, you can give her a research grant and let her do as much book work as she wants.”
“Indeed so.” She grimaced and shook her head. “Though I suppose that is a matter for another day. After all that's happened I’m not too eager to get ahead of myself.”
“Winning the war does take precedence over everything else.” One of the main reasons I wanted to get this problem squared away was so Celestia would stop worrying about her current student and be able to completely focus on the war. I could sympathize with her being so distracted. If something had been wrong with Kukri, it would’ve bugged me far more than it should.
“We have more than enough work as is.” She frowned thoughtfully. “I think I have just the thing for her first assignment. We received a report from a factory worker in Ponyville about a temporal anomaly—most likely one of them just having a bit too much cider at the end of a twelve hour shift, but it’s only prudent to investigate.”
I grunted and nodded. “Better safe than sorry. I don’t want to find out too late that Sombra’s built some sort of crazy time distortion cannon he plans to use against us and decided to test-fire it on a random factory worker.”
“It wouldn’t be the most outlandish thing he has done,” Celestia murmured. “And a simple investigation into a magical phenomenon should be exactly the sort of thing Twilight would be good at. She’s studied magic extensively, and has a good analytical mind.”
“Sounds like you have that squared away,” I agreed. “Once she wraps that up and files her report, send her to me and I’ll put her on liaison work.” Probably with Strumming. If I wanted someone who could boot Twilight out of her comfort zone and force her to do some growing...
“That’s settled then.” Celestia cleared her throat. “I believe my staff should have the welcoming banquet we’ve prepared for you just about ready. It is perhaps a touch wasteful in such difficult times, but considering the impact of Freeport’s aid we can spare a few resources on ceremony. Certainly everypony likes the idea of celebrating your entry into the war.” She grinned, and I could swear I saw an evil glint in her eyes. “And it gives me the chance to tell Kukri stories about the antics you got up to when you were my student.”
I groaned and buried my face in my hooves.
The next few days passed in a blur of meetings, planning, and the occasional bit of ceremonial pageantry to help keep morale up. It still felt a bit weird being back in Canterlot after all this time, seeing old familiar places and how they’d been changed by the war. It was strange to realize that my old hometown didn’t really feel like home anymore. At some point, Freeport had captured my heart. Canterlot might be the pinnacle of art and sophistication, but every time the crisp clean mountain air hit my nostrils I found myself missing the stinky fish smell of the docks.
We’d spent most of the morning hammering out a rough plan of action for the next major offensive. We’d decided to go up the east coast to secure the ports in former caribou territory, even if it was one of the more conservative courses to take. Better to play it safe and cut off his resources than risk everything on an immediate big push against the Crystal Empire’s capital. There’d been a fair bit of pressure to retake Vanhoover, but the city had been completely evacuated before Sombra captured it. Between that and the fact that my army would’ve needed to completely cross Equestria to reach it, Vanhoover would have to wait.
Of course, explaining that to all the ponies who used to live there hadn’t been an easy job. By the time Celestia and I had wrapped that up, I was ready for a break. “So, lunch first. What’s the plan for after that?”
“We’ll be meeting with the families of some of our new recruits.” Celestia closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I’m asking them to send their sons and daughters to fight on the front lines; the least I can do is offer them a few words of comfort. I would like to have you there, unless you have other plans.”
“Nothing that can’t wait.” I was tempted to make an excuse not to do something that would probably be deeply unpleasant, but rulers had to do that kind of thing. Refusing to comfort a few ponies just because it would make me uncomfortable was the coward’s way out. Besides, if I was really going to end up being Celestia’s succe—
No. Not going there. It just wasn’t going to happen.
Celestia smiled and gave me quick pat on the back. “But first, lunch. My chefs might have given up a few of the more exotic ingredients on account of the war, but there’s often virtue to be found in simplicity. A few carrot dogs, hay fries, and a slice of cake.” I raised an eyebrow at the last, and she shrugged. “I’ve given up most of my other indulgences. I can keep my cake.”
“It’s a small enough thing.” Not to mention that growing up as Celestia’s student had left me with a firm appreciation for high-quality baked goods. “Kukri said she needed to do some cleanup on her golems, so she won’t be joining us.”
Celestia raised an eyebrow. “I do hope everything’s alright with them.”
“Just a bit of corrosion buildup, nothing standard maintenance won’t take care of.” I’d been a bit annoyed with her when I found out about it, since when I’d checked them over it looked like they hadn’t been taken care of for months. Kukri’d insisted that she’d thoroughly checked them over after the Battle of Manehattan, and I didn’t see any reason not to believe her. Something must’ve happened to them during transit.
“Very well then.” Celestia led the way to her dining room, pulling out a chair for me. “I was also thinking we could go over that private matter of contingency plans we discussed earlier. I know it’s a difficult subject, but...”
“Right.” I grunted out. I still wasn’t eager to deal with it, but Celestia wasn’t going to let the matter rest. “What, exactly?”
She smiled mysteriously. “There are quite a few spells you’ll need to learn. Not to mention ... well, in light of other events I’ve begun to change my opinion on destiny. Perhaps instead of just letting ponies fulfill their destinies at their pace, it’s time I gave destiny a nudge in the right direction.”
Well, that wasn’t cryptic at all.
Once the two of us had settled in, the castle staff brought out two covered trays for us. I couldn’t help but grin in anticipation. My own chefs in Freeport had never quite managed to perfectly replicate Equestrian cuisine. Not that I would ever complain about the amazing things they could do with breadfruit, kelp, seafood, and the other staples of Freeport cuisine—not to mention the many bizarre fusion dishes that came from living in a huge trade hub—but they hadn’t mastered the flavors of home.
Then servers opened up the trays.
I flinched away at the smell. A putrid, rotting, sickly-sweet stench assaulted my nostrils, one that belonged well away from the dinner table and closer to a compost heap. What little seasoning the chefs had left would probably have been like trying to put perfume on a cadaver, and I had the feeling that taking a bite of it would forever ruin the spices for me.
Under the circumstances, my reaction was restrained. “What the hay?!”
Celestia frowned and raised a single eyebrow. “Would someone care to explain why the Archon and I have been served rotten food?”
The servers looked just as stunned as we were, their jaws hanging open and panic in their eyes. “Your Highness ... Archon ... I don’t ... I checked the food myself before we ... I’m so sorry, I’ll fix this!”
For a second I was tempted to snap at him, but that was just my annoyance with the situation. I slowed down and thought it over. Why would the staff deliberately serve us rotten food? It was a sure way to get fired. For that matter, how could any one of them do it without the cooks and dozens of other servants noticing and saying something?
No, something else was going on here. I closed my eyes and threw an analysis spell at the food. It confirmed that everything was exactly what it looked like: the food had been cooked close to a month ago. But that made no sense unless...
I widened the scope of my spell.
Celestia’s eyes snapped open. “We need get everypony into a magically secured shelter. Now.”
I wasn’t going to argue with her. Not after what I’d just learned from my own spells. “There’s still one in the palace basement, right?” One of the guards nodded. “Well what are you waiting for?! Move!”
Celestia nodded sharply, turning to one of her lieutenants. “Organize the evacuation as quickly as possible. We only have minutes before it gets worse.”
The guardpony frowned, blinking in confusion as he tried to keep up with us. “Before what gets worse, Your Highness?”
Then the first screams started.
Celestia’s face fell. “Oh no. The families...”
We rushed out into the reception hall, where the families of the latest batch of freshly recruited guardponies had been waiting for us. In the middle of a circle of terrified screaming ponies lay a single shriveled, brown, desiccated mass of flesh. It looked like something that might have once been a pony, hundreds of years ago.
A grey pegasus mare rushed over to us, terror in her eyes. “Princess! Princess, please, I can’t find my daughter! She was just here!”
Celestia took a deep breath, schooling her face into a careful expression of calm neutrality. “What happened to her, Ditzy?”
“She was right next to me! Somepony screamed, and then the scream...” She gasped for breath, the air pounding in and out of her lungs so fast she was on the verge of hyperventilating. “I p-pulled her back so we could get away, but she was younger!”
“Younger?”
“Younger!” She latched onto Celestia’s shoulders. “She w-w-was half as big as she was when w-we came in, and her cutie mark was gone!”
“What happened after that?” Celestia’s voice seemed way too calm. I knew what that meant: she’d already guessed the same thing I had.
“I picked her up and started to g-go, but she said ... she said...” She quickly wiped the tears out of her eyes. “I looked down and saw her. Sh-sh-she ... it was my baby. The little foal f-from the delivery room. She looked up at me and said ‘Ma.’ And then she was—she was—” She wrapped her forelegs around herself, holding the empty space where her daughter should have been.
Celestia hugged her. “Oh Ditzy ... I’m so sorry.” She tried to shift the hug towards a gentle push, moving her towards the rest of the ponies rushing to the evacuation zone.
Ditzy went along with it at first, but about halfway to the door she suddenly and violently pulled away from the princess. “No, we can’t go yet! She’s—where is she? Princess, we’ve got to find her! Dinky! Where are you, baby?!”
“Ditzy...” Celestia said very softly. “I’m so sorry, but she’s gone.”
“NO!” The mare violently shook her head and began frantically darting around the room. “She was just here! My daughter was just here, please we've got to find her please! We have to find her! Dinky honey, please come out! This isn’t funny anymore! DINKY!”
I sighed and did the only thing I could to help her. My stun spell caught her in the back, taking her completely by surprise. The mare blinked in shock, then slowly slumped to the floor with a moaning, wordless wail.
Celestia quickly picked the half-conscious mare up and draped her over her own back, but she spared a faintly reproving look for me. I sighed and shook my head. “You know she never would’ve come willingly. Not after...”
She closed her eyes and very slowly nodded. “We need to hurry if we’re going to get everypony to safety. We’ve lost too many already.”
We rushed down to the secured bunker, picking up as many other civilians as we could along the way. The mare on Celestia’s back kept wailing, long after we sealed the door behind us.