Celestia frowned at the majordomo. “I don’t take apprentices. Everypony knows that.”
“Her parents beseech you to reconsider, Your Highness, citing their right to the Test. The child is very gifted, and her teachers also have sent their letters of recommendation.” He checked his sheet. “Over a dozen different professors, all highly qualified…”
She sighed. Ýes, of course they have. And of course they are. She silenced him with a gesture. “I take it she is here now?”
“She is. Her family as well.”
“Very well. Have the egg brought to the testing room. I assume they have also assembled the customary Board of Instructors?”
“They have. The Canterlot School Board has sent its own members, in anticipation. I trust you will be there as well, Your Highness?”
“Of course.” Every decade or so, it happens, she thought. Another poor foal, set up for failure by their overachieving parents. She sighed. I can at least be there to comfort the poor child. See what their potential might be, and help them find a mentor worthy of whatever gifts they possess.
The Princess wandered over to the window, looked out across the clouds. Cloudsdale was holding their annual flight camp, and there were fireworks going off across much of the sky. Best to wait, so the filly wouldn’t be distracted by the light and noise of the young pegasus’ celebrations.
“The test will be in one hour,” she pronounced. “That will give me ample time to meet her, help her relax, and explain why the test is so difficult, why failing it is not her fault.” At least, as much as I can reveal. Unbidden, images of Sunset rose within her mind. Accusing, screaming, tears streaming from cyan eyes.
Celestia sighed. Never again.
“Have them wait in the second study,” she said. “I shall be there shortly. And bring them food and drink. The filly probably won’t eat, but it might help her nerves.”
“As Your Highness wishes.”
Near Cloudsdale, a pale rainbow had formed, one of Equestria’s oldest symbols of hope. Because of her, ironically.
She snorted. All a rainbow meant was that someone must be getting rain. Or, in her case, that she still had her vanity, despite everything else.
Still, no sense putting off her duties. Yes, she still had paperwork to approve, laws to review, and a library to visit. But first, it seemed, there would be a small filly to comfort.
Celestia sighed again. There seemed so little point in any of this. In a few short years, Nightmare Moon would return, and Celestia would have to face her again. Alone, as always. And in all certainty, everything she had been building for the last thousand years would be destroyed in the span of a day. Including whatever transient happiness she might help some young mageling find.
But, just the same, she thought, I shall remain Celestia.
As the elderly stallion bowed and turned to go, the Princess asked, “What is the candidate’s name?”
He fumbled with the scroll. “Er, let me see… ah, yes. Twilight Sparkle. Daughter of Twilight Velvet and Night Light.”
“Very well. Thank you, Abacus. That will be all.”
Another bow. “Your Highness.”