"The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all art and science. He to whom this emotion is a stranger, who can no longer pause to wonder and stand rapt in awe, is as good as dead; his eyes are closed." - Albert Einstein
Living Philosophies, 1931 book by Albert Einstein.
The local grocery store wasn't much bigger than where Mag worked. It carried fresh fruits and vegetables, canned goods, milk, eggs, and other basic food staples, along with junk food, cheap alcohol, cigarettes, candy, chewing tobacco, and an aisle in the back devoted to inedibles, mostly camping gear and cleaning products. And of course they had chocolate.
Mag walked in smelling like magical pony princess tears while Celestia didn't, Mag hated her a bit for that.
“I am starving and I need a smoke. Let's just eat on the curb.”
Celestia followed, shutting the door behind her. “Do you walk to this store often?”
“No, only when I fly home on a magical pony queen and leave my car at work like a moron.” Mag pulled a basket from the stack, and put her purse inside it. “Now then. Shopping list: olives. Wine. Bread. Cigarettes. You get those, and I guess I'll get food for the week... and chocolate, can't have unicorns without chocolate. Wait, can you eat chocolate?”
"I can eat chocolate." Celestia said and took her own basket.
Mag had never shopped vegetarian before. Perhaps it was the size of the store, but vegetarian meals seemed to require a certain amount of actual cooking, rather than microwaves. You could nuke beans and the like, yes, but pasta and rice required work, and Mag normally preferred to save that sort of thing for special occasions. She supposed visiting royalty counted as a special occasion. But there was no vegetarian spaghetti sauce. She wouldn't have to make her own, would she? Mag pulled out her phone to look up recipes, feeling unpleasantly domestic. Surely there were simple sauce recipes. She tried to remenber to pick a few cereal boxes, because it was fast and cheap and equines liked cereals, right? She didn't want to come here again soon.
Mag then tapped the first recipe she saw that said “fast” in the title and frowned. What on earth was a shallot? She kept searching until she found something reasonable, at least in comparison to the others, which all seemed to involve lots of preparation time, arcane ingredients, or both. Bottle of oil, jar of garlic, one onion, can of tomatoes, salt, pepper, Italian spices, bag of hard pasta. She grabbed another pot as well, as it appeared you couldn't cook elaborate meals with only one unless you wanted to cook each component of the meal one at a time. Oh and she got milk because of tea and the cereal.
She was just reading the back of a can of all-bean chili when Mag heard Celestia's delicate footsteps behind her. They didn't quite sound like shoes to her but probably no one else noticed the difference.
“Problem?” asked Mag.
“Mag,” said Celestia.
“Hold on.”
Celestia waited while Mag finished reading. She put the can back; beef for flavoring that Celestia wouldn't like, and turned to see Celestia holding up a flashlight.
“Mag, look. A Mag-Light.”
Mag snorted and then laughed. A startled grunt sounded from the other end of the store and the manager looked around the corner to stare at the two of them. The old man saw Mag's shadow of a smile and stared.
“Sorry about that.” said Mag but her eyes didn't look sorry. The man broke eye contact, shrugged, and walked away. The human woman looked at Celestia and saw that she'd raised an eyebrow.
“Yes, Spock?”
“Did he offend you?”
“Not really, I did apologise didn't I?"
“But you still stared him down,” said Celestia.
“If he'd be less nosy when I'm trying to shop, we'd get along fine.” Mag picked out two cans of pinto beans and walked to the dairy aisle. "And if I was a better liar my life wouldn't be such a big mess, but we can't always get what we want."
Celestia trailed after her. “Has he been a problem before?”
“Not exactly. Although he's asked me questions before, 'What's your name' and all that, and I'm not really up for a conversation after work, you know? And even if I tried my face would still look... angry."
“I see ,” said Celestia.
“So, am I buying that flashlight? I may as well.” Mag plucked it out of Celestia's hands and put it in her basket. She noticed Celestia had nothing in her own basket. She further noticed that Celestia was still giving her a look.
“What?” said Mag.
“When I said 'I see,' I had assumed you'd have something more to say,” said Celestia.
“Like what? And what about the rest of the groceries?”
“Hm?” Celestia glanced down at her basket. “Oh. I apologize; I was distracted. I noticed most of the foods available here are very tightly packaged, perhaps because they must be shipped great distances—I know they must be because many of these products can't be easily grown in this climate. I also noticed how ornate the packaging is, and how each product has enough fine print to resemble a legal document. Most of the packages have elaborate labels on them, all very carefully designed. I was just beginning to consider possible connections between the complexity of human food packaging and the tendency for humans to wear clothes at all times, as if humans were packaging themselves or as if you were clothing your foodstuffs, when I noticed this interesting device with your name on it. Then I brought it to you to see what you'd say.”
“Oh,” said Mag and rubbed her chin “Human wear clothes because we lack fur and to help us in mating rituals. Did you see any bread or olives?”
Celestia continued as if she hadn't heard. “You also asked, 'Like what?' This surprised me, as most ponies, when I say 'I see' in that way, tend to stop whatever they're doing and reconsider their actions.”
“What actions?”
“In this case? Evading smalltalk,” said Celestia.
“Is that seriously a big deal? We were having a fun conversation and then someone was watching and I didn't like that. And I did answer why humans wear clothes and you ignored it! Now who is avoiding smalltalk? You know I tend to be blunt and say what I think, most humans hate that. So instead of fighting why not just avoid talking?" Mag headed for the canned goods aisle in search of olives.
“Yes, is important” said the human shaped goddess. "But I forgot you might find conversation difficult since you have no problem talking with me. And I am sorry for ignoring you Mag, I find your answer about why humans wear clothes quite informative and right to the point."
Mag stopped "So you want me to do smalltalk with another human? Why would I? What's in it for me?”
“You'd like to bargain, then?” Celestia smiled as if she'd won. “Very well. I can't claim to be any great cook, but I've learned to make a few recipes you may enjoy, and I see the ingredients to several of them on these shelves. I'll make one of them tonight if you go and have a civil conversation with the shopkeep.”
A vegetarian dinner made in Mag's kitchen with Mag's things wasn't as appealing as Celestia seemed to believe. Mag wasn't a vegetarian, wasn't wild about people touching her things, and would probably be in the kitchen right alongside Celestia, at first just to hang around awkwardly but, inevitably, to help cook, defeating the purpose of the deal. The only reason Mag didn't immediately refuse was because she didn't actually know how to say “no” to Celestia, and if she did manage to refuse, what then? Celestia might strike up a conversation of her own with the store manager and then draw Mag in anyway because Celestia was wily like that. Or she might let it pass, then be primly angry about it and give Mag the silent treatment. Or she might just leave. Would she be upset enough to leave? She'd only just arrived.
And Celestia world was gone and she had cried on Mag shoulder, and she was also a pretty unicorn princess. And Celestia was a wonderful goddess that needed her help even if she didn't know how to help. And Mag still smelled like unicorn tears and she no longer hated her for that. Because she knew what Celestia was doing, she was keeping busy to not think that all she cared about was gone.
Mag glowered, handed her basket to Celestia and said, “I'll get cigarettes and wine and chocolate, and I'll talk to him for a bit. A little bit. You can handle the olives and bread, right?”
“Certainly,” said Celestia. “And Mag? Relax.”
“Come get me if there's a problem,” said Mag, trudging to the register.
“Hi,” she said.
“Good morning,” said the man.
“Pall Mall, right?”
“Good Morning. Yeah, and your finest box of wine,” said Mag.
The man laughed. He was pushing 60 and bald as an egg. “Finest box. I like that. Well, I've got Franzia. Is that okay?”
“Sure,” said Mag.
The man palmed a pack of Pall Malls, set it on the glass counter, leaned over, grabbed the box in both hands, and set it next to the pack. “Anything else?”
“Yeah, that chocolate bar over there and my friend should be along with some groceries.”
Mag then finally got her delicious chocolate but the man had to keep talking.
“Hey, you know, earlier, that was the first time I've heard you laugh,” he said.
“It's a grocery store, dude,” said Mag. “Not that funny by nature. Wait. Do people laugh in here a lot?"
“Sometimes,” said the man.
“They'll smile, anyway. All I'm saying is, I've never seen you without an annoyed look on your face, and then suddenly you're shopping in the morning with a beautiful woman who can make you laugh.” He gave her a sly look. Mag knew that he was thinking and it was hilarious. Even if they weren't different species, even if they were about the same age... Celestia was more like a relative you like than a friend, much less a lover. And Mag was quite sure that she wasn't gay and if she was, Celestia just wasn't her type.
“I met my husband in this grocery store, you know. It's a charmed place.” Then he looked self conscious. “Not that it's any of my business.”
“Wow, okay. First of all, I know something you don't know,” said Mag.
“What's that?”
“The real answer to that question is hilarious, but for now let's just say she's not my type.”
“Ah, I see. Fair enough.” He scratched his jaw with the heel of his hand and looked embarrassed. “Listen, I don't mean to—”
“Don't worry about it,” said Mag.
Celestia set her basket down next to the box of Franzia. “Good morning! I'm with her.”
“Good morning,” said the manager, clearly relieved. “We were just talking about you.”
“We were?” said Mag.
“Nothing too horrible, I hope,” said Celestia.
“Naw,” said the manager.
“Regardless, introductions are in order. Mag?”
“What?” said Mag.
“Introductions.”
“Sure. Uh, manager guy, what's your name?”
“Jorge,” said the man. “I run this little place. You need anything, I've got the best prices in town—no disrespect meant to any other local convenience stores, of course, ha ha ha!”
“Ha ha,” said Mag. “Jorge, this is Celeste. Celeste, this is Jorge. My name is Mag. I'm behind the counter at the convenience store down the road, the one that doesn't sell gas but does have a broken slushy machine.” I have no social skills. I'm actively dying of hunger and I need a cigarette. I will eat you and smoke your bones if you don't let us get out of here soon.
“Celeste is...”
Celestia interrupted. “Celeste is short for 'Celestia,' and I'm a friend of Mag's and I'm currently staying with her... for reasons I don't want to talk about but basicaly mean my home, family and friends are gone.”
Jorge just gawked for a moment, closed his mouth with an effort, and turned to Mag. “Well, that wasn't my first guess.”
“Yeah, your first guess was that she was my new girlfriend,” said Mag, watching Celestia's face.
Celestia smiled wryly. “I don't think I'm her type.”
Jorge nodded. “Yeah, she said the same thing and sorry for well... making you bring that out.”
Mag pulled her wallet out of her purse, glanced at Celestia's now surprisingly full basket, and put three 20s on the box of wine. Jorge seemed to take the hint and started to manually input prices into the register. Celestia leaned over to study the bills, then noticed the plastic Humane Society donation box, picked it up, read the text, flipped it over and read the back. Jorge stopped to watch her from under his eyelashes.
Celestia sighed, kissed the coin slot, set the box back down and walked out, shutting the door with care.
Jorge handed Mag her change and loaded the cans, tubs, and bottles into paper bags. He didn't seem in the mood to talk anymore.
“Hey, can I borrow one of these baskets? I had to walk here because I left-” Mag was interrupted.
“Left your car at work,” said Jorge. “Do you want me to drive you two over to your store? It's too cold to be walking.”
The last thing Mag wanted to do at this moment was spend more time with another human being, even one who'd turned out to be more or less inoffensive, but she didn't have any good reason to refuse. Now what?
Mag looked at the door to make sure Celestia wasn't listening in and said, “Celeste wanted to look around town a bit, so I was planning to walk us over to where my car is. That way she can take in the sights.” There. Barely even a lie.
“No? You sure?”
“Yeah, I'm sure.”
“All right, well, good luck and have a nice day. I hope everything works out for your friend.”
“So do I, and thanks,” said Mag. Then she stopped. “Seriously. Thanks.”
“For what?”
“I don't know,” said Mag. “I just felt like saying it. Thanks for being polite I guess?"
“Huh. Well, you're welcome.” Jorge waved.
Mag walked out, closed the door behind her, and then realized you were supposed to wave back. She considered going back in to wave but decided not to. She'd barely gotten away.
Celestia was standing in a handicap parking space examining the sign. A nearby homeless man sat against the wall with a bottle in a crumpled paper bag, watching her. Mag maneuvered her basket of groceries to the crook of her arm and fished the receipt out of her change from the twenties, then handed the change to the homeless man along with the half a pack of menthols. She walked up to Celestia and lit a cigarette. She drew deeply and breathed the smoke out slowly, savoring the bite of the tobacco and the way the cold turned her smoke so thick.
She took another slow drag, let it out and said, “So. That kiss you gave the donation box. Did that do anything?”
“Almost nothing,” said Celestia.
“Almost nothing,” repeated Mag.
“Almost nothing,” confirmed Celestia.
“But not nothing.”
Celestia watched the plume of smoke and said, “You know, the more I stay here the more I notice it, this world is broken. Is like they fit a square box in a round hole."
“Well, humans can't have all the fault right?” said Mag then offered half the chocolate bar to Celestia. The goddess ate it in silence.
Then the disguised winged unicorn gave Mag an appraising look. “What is your work history?”
Mag took the cigarette out of her mouth and tapped ash into the snow. “Are we being serious? Because I am not happy with my current job."
Working for a goddess, would that make her a priest or a secretary? Maybe both.
“Yes,” said Celestia. “I know little about you, but I'm beginning to suspect I know more than most, and as the local Mag expert I judge you to be a woman of potential. What are your ambitions, Mag?”
“I don't really have any. I just wanted to coast through life, honestly. Then I meet a unicorn goddess and had tea with her, and before that we even flew together. I can die happily now only not really because I don't wanna die yet thank you."
“Many have lived worthwhile lives with no goal but to be happy,” said Celestia."And I am glad that I made you happy."
“Right,” said Mag then ate the rest of the chocolate nervously.
Celestia took Mag's hands.
“Mag?”
“Yeah?” Mag took her hands back with as much tact as she could manage. She wasn't gonna be asked to do THAT for her goddess right? Because really it would be like it was her own mother and Mag didn't have that fetish, no and thank you.
Celestia let go of Mag's hands but didn't move away. “I... I know people, you see. I understand them. It may be a power given to me for the sake of fulfilling my responsibilities, or maybe it's a skill I've picked up by caring very much for very many people over a very long time. I've spoken with you and listened to the things you've said, and I've to a few conclusions. You are not shaped like my people, and as a human, you think differently and see the world differently than nearly anyone I've ever met. But you have the same look in your eyes that my sister once did, and our mutual friend Jorge wonders why you never laugh, and so do I. And.. Apparently I can make you happy.” Celestia lifted her chin and her tone grew imperious. “Write a resume. Submit it to me. I need to know more about your work history and existing skills, but I have a job opening and I want you to fill it.”
“Uh, wow,” said Mag. “What's the job? Not limo driving?”
“The human world is endlessly intricate and you understand it. I am also not used to working without help, frankly. I need both a guide and an aide-de-camp. We can put your restlessness to work, and as you work you can think on what you really want out of life. And while most humans can't see me as I really am, those that can might know something to help."
“I'd have to quit my other job, of course,” said Mag thoughtfully. "Do you have any local currency you can use to pay me?"
“If you do then my advice is to be polite, give adequate notice, don't cut ties and I could sell a few jewels.” said Celestia.
“Because you won't be here forever and I'll need my old job back? And nice to know you aren't without any money.”
“Because it's the proper way to do things,” said Celestia, wagging a finger playfully.
“What's an aide-de-camp?”
“You're asking questions. Good. An aide-de-camp is a personal assistant for a political or military figure. Different aides will have different responsibilities according to whom they assist. In your case, you would keep track of my schedule and contacts, prepare me for social events, and solve all the little problems that could undermine my efforts if not addressed by a competent person. You would arrange for meals, and for appropriate clothes for both of us. You'd maintain cordial working relationships, note the emphasis, with the servants and representatives of the mighty, and you yourself would be my representative when I'm not available. You'd follow me as I go about my day, especially at parties and the like, and take notes on future engagements or any promises I make. You may also have to read my mind sometimes, which is to say anticipating my wishes and acting accordingly. I wouldn't worry about that part, however, as you already do that very well, such as when you knew I would prefer to see more of the town than be taken directly to our next stop.”
Mag just looked at her. "You can't talk to the human leaders, well you could but not as a magical pony princess and as a human they would have no reason to listen to you. And weren't you just looking for the magic using humans?"
Celestia looked back, and then she was just herself instead of a Disney princess lookalike. "Sorry... I guess I am doing this wrong and... would the word secretary work better for this?"
"It would." Said Mag.
"Then le's just call it work as my secretary. And please remember that as my secretary speaks it might be taken as her speaking for me. I once had an ambassador who accidentally started a war because she thought she was speaking off the record, off the clock and purely on her own behalf, when in fact there is no such thing. Don't lie under any circumstances. Don't mislead unless lives are in immediate danger and you are perfectly certain I can't deal with the problem myself.”
Mag raised a finger. “Another question. What if it's a choice between lying and starting a war? Or lying or let someone die?"
“Stale, give evasive answers, fetch me, and let me talk them out of it.”
“You do realize this is the one job in the whole world I'm the least qualified for? I don't know magic or any witch or wizard. Or about this world Regent. And my mind to mouth filter sucks."
“Just trust me,” said Celestia as she smiled.
Celestia was turning out to be a smiler. Mag supposed it was a kind of political defense mechanism. People saw the smile and believed she was in control, that nothing was wrong. This time, Celestia was giving Mag the smile of a stage magician asking her volunteer to lie down in a box and Mag had always wanted to be sawn in half.
“Sure, but only because you promised to talk to me about how magic works, remember?"
Celestia's smile widened. “We can talk about that later. For now, I need your resume."
“Okay. Let's eat on the curb and see if that homeless guy wants any olives.”
Celestia looked confused.
“'Homeless guy?'”
“That guy,” said Mag, pointing. The man was still watching them.
“Hey, dude. Want some bread, olives and boxed wine? We'll all have to drink right out of the box without touching the spigot, but we can make it work if we believe in ourselves enough. The other problem, though, is that I don't have a can opener for these olives. Maybe Jorge does. Let me... what? What is it?”
Celestia had grasped Mag's hand with magic, and Mag didn't think she could have pried Celestia loose without a crowbar and a gob of lotion, if that even worked with magic. The smile was gone and now Celestia wore a mask of calm. She approached the homeless man, pulling Mag behind her.
“My name is Princess Celestia, Regent of Equis.” And to Mag surprise she have a gentle bow to the homeless man. “What is your proper title, cousin?”
The homeless man got up. He was easily taller than Celestia, with a craggy face and wiry gray beard.
“Eldest.” he said, in a voice like sharkskin.
Mag felt like punching him but she was still held in Celestia's magic. And she decided to not talk after what Celestia just said.
At least she had already eaten some chocolate.