//------------------------------// // 1 - Groundbreaking // Story: A Brief History of Canterlot Castle // by Rambling Writer //------------------------------// It took a certain degree of care — not a large one, but it was still there — to be able to levitate a spyglass without having one’s magical aura wrap around the eyepieces and tint the whole image. Gabion was reminded of this for the fourth time that evening as he surveyed the construction of the city that wasn’t yet Canterlot from a cliff on the mountainside above it, his heart swelled with pride, and his control slipped again. To think that this would one day be the capital of all of Equestria, and he was responsible for overseeing its construction! He had no lack of materials, for the Princesses had supplied everything he needed and then some. It would be magnificent. It was already magnificent. The development was coming along at a steady rate, and even with the city not even a quarter done, it was one of Equestria’s most beautiful cities. He could only envision the splendor it would cast in the fu- “Sir,” muttered Flagstone, “you’re getting teary-eyed again.” Gabion’s beard tickled as he coughed. “No, I’m not.” “Yes, you are,” said Flagstone. “Fine. I am. But can’t you appreciate the aesthetics of architecture?” “I can without getting all emotional.” Gabion collapsed the spyglass. “And that lack of attachment, my young filly, is why you are merely Assistant Builder and I am Master Builder and Head Mason.” Flagstone chuckled. It was a long-running joke between them; she’d lightly mock his attachment to buildings, he’d lightly mock her “lowly” position, and they’d both laugh about it. The moment the laughs died down, Flagstone was serious again. “So? Are the angles good?” “Very.” Gabion pushed a sheet of parchment to Flagstone, his surveying sketches. “If the castle is placed… on the southern cliff, the Princesses will have nearly-perfect lines of sight to the sun and moon at all times without the rest of the city getting in the way.” Silence as Flagstone examined the sketches. “Yep,” she said eventually, “this all looks- Hang on.” She laid the sketches on the ground and pulled out her own copy of Canterlot’s plans. “Isn’t this building actually this tower?” She poked at a building on each parchment in turn. “And that would block-” “Uh, no,” said Gabion, “not quite. See? The angles it makes with this building are wrong. It’s actually this building, right here.” “Ah. Right. So where-” “Right here.” “Oh! Yeah, I see it now. Sorry.” Gabion turned his attention back to the city. He only distantly remembered it, but he’d had lots of blocks when he was very young and had used them so much his father had joked he’d worn them out. He’d always felt a joy in building something, planning it out and then seeing slowly grow to fill those plans. When he’d gotten his cutie mark after building a particularly impressive sand castle, he’d been ecstatic. It was those same feelings that he felt now: the simple, pure joy of creation. He wasn’t one of the best masons in Equestria because he was naturally talented (although he was) or because he’d spent many sleepless nights studying (although he had), but because nopony else built their heart into their projects quite like he did. He adjusted the spyglass to take a closer look at one of the buildings. There was a lot of marble going into this city, and it came from all over Equestria. Part of him wondered just how expensive it was. That expense was probably the reason it’d taken Princesses Celestia and Luna so long to build a dedicated capital city. Over a hundred years, really? But if you saved up a few bits each year- “Excuse me. Sir and ma’am?” When Gabion pulled away from the glass, a pegasus with the green courier sash had alighted near him and Flagstone. The courier cleared her throat and said, “You’re Head Mason Gabion, correct?” “Yes,” Gabion said, frowning. “Why?” He’d never liked receiving messages, even ones with good news. Responding to them was another responsibility, and he frequently had his hooves full organizing the construction of a building (let alone a city). “Her Highness Princess Celestia is at the camp and wishes to speak to you.” “What?” Gabion jumped up like he’d been stung by a bee right beneath his tail. “I never heard anything about this!” he yelled as he raced along the cliff. “Tell her that I apologize for keeping her waiting, that I had never-” “Sir, sir!” The courier easily caught up and landed in front of him, forcing him to a stop. “Celestia has assured me,” the courier said levelly, “that no missives were sent out, for the issue at hoof only just came up. Any issues with communication are hers, not yours.” “Oh, thank the fates,” breathed Gabion. He wiped his forehead down. No, he hadn’t let Princess Celestia down. No, he didn’t have anything he needed to apologize to the Prime Mover for. Flagstone caught up with them. “So what’s up?” she asked the courier. “Why’s the princess out here?” “I can’t say,” the courier said with a shrug. “I was simply sent to find you and tell you that you’re awaited. I was also told that any assisting builders could come with you.” Gabion and Flagstone exchanged a brief glance. Gabion hoped that whatever Princess Celestia wanted to talk about — probably concerning construction — it’d be well-informed. Just because she was immortal and moved the sun didn’t mean she knew how difficult making mortar could be. “Very well,” Gabion said. “We’ll be there in about fifteen minutes.” The courier saluted. “I shall inform her at once.” She streaked back towards the camp. “What d’you reckon?” Flagstone asked as she and Gabion walked at a far more leisurely pace. “Obviously, it has to do with the construction of Canterlot, but beyond that…” “I don’t know,” Gabion said with a shrug, “and until we know, I don’t particularly care. Trust me, stressing out over what a client might change about their design will bring you nothing but trouble. It’s how I got gray hair number eighteen.” The pair deviated from the path to take a shortcut, climbing hoof over hoof down a short cliff. They reached the ground again on a lower level of the switchbacked road and continued on. “…Do you think it has something to do with the… with the castle?” Flagstone asked quietly. At the mere mention of the last word, Gabion’s neck went ramrod-straight. His breathing became loud and strained. How could he not, with that design? “If it is,” he said with an angry calmness, “she’d best have an explanation.” It’d taken Gabion a long time to figure out what was “wrong” with Princess Celestia whenever he saw her up close, but he knew now: he was just a unicorn mason, she was an immortal alicorn. Simply put, she didn’t belong in his world. She was somepony to be seen at a distance, somepony to hear stories and songs about, somepony who existed as an ideal. Whenever he approached her, either he was leaving his world or she was leaving hers, but it was wrong however you looked at it, like a scorching desert bordering a glacier. Even surrounded by building materials and equipment, as he walked up to Princess Celestia, Gabion couldn’t shake the feeling that, at the moment, he was the one intruding on her world. Maybe it was the knowledge that she and her sister were the ones who had funded the construction, that none of this (particularly not him) would be here, now, if it weren’t for her. He was here by her grace and nopony else’s. At the very least, she certainly looked graceful, with her spread wings and her somehow still-pristine white coat. Even the three guards flanking her on both sides couldn’t detract from that. Her mane constantly dramatically blowing in the nonexistent wind was a bit silly, but Gabion suspected that couldn’t be helped. Princess Luna had it, too; perhaps it was an alicorn thing. A large sky chariot sat behind her, its gilding shining brightly against the muddy, dirty earth. The atmosphere felt charged as Gabion and Flagstone approached. Not through magic, through feeling, the same way a library was a quiet place even before the rules were enforced. Princess Celestia was somepony who didn’t demand respect, for she didn’t have to; she got it either way. Gabion stopped and bowed to her not because protocol dictated it (although it did), because Princess Celestia was somepony deserving of it. Next to him, Flagstone did the same thing for the same reasons. “Your Majesty,” he said. “You may rise, Mason Gabion, builder Flagstone,” Princess Celestia said. If a silver bell had a voice, it’d be hers. Gabion and Flagstone straightened up. Princess Celestia looked past them, at the beginnings of Canterlot. “Construction is coming along well, I see,” she said lightly. Probably an attempt to make herself seem less… other. It actually worked a little; nothing that moved the sun ought to care about city planning like that, yet Celestia could at least try. “Yes, Your Highness,” Gabion said. “Completely on schedule. We have sufficient materials and workers both, and I have some fine assistant builders.” Next to him, Flagstone almost smiled and her ears stood upright. “Undoubtedly,” Princess Celestia said, looking at Flagstone, who twitched like she wanted to look away. “Now, that matter at hoof. You remember the castle design you were sent?” Ah. That. Flagstone had been right. That… thing that was a crime by spectacle against logic and common sense. That “building” jutting off the cliff that would collapse under its own weight before it was half-done. That enormous waste of time. The plans for which he’d only received a week ago, at great expense to his tent and belongings. It’d taken a lot of effort on Flagstone’s part to convince him to calm down. Gabion sucked in a breath, but Flagstone elbowed him in the ribs. Gabion coughed and said, “Yes.” He glanced at Flagstone and gave a brief nod of thanks. “As you may recall, there was a note saying some details still needed to be ironed out before construction began.” That note that’d been the only reason Gabion hadn’t marched all the way across Equestria to Princess Celestia’s court and yelled at her to her face. Gabion took another breath. Flagstone elbowed him again. “Yes,” he said. “Those details have been settled,” Princess Celestia said. “I intend to assist you in the castle’s construction.” “Yes,” Gabion said reflexively. Flagstone elbowed him and he twitched. “I mean- I’m sorry, did I hear that correctly? You’re assisting us?” “Indeed,” replied Princess Celestia, nodding. “The design was… extravagant, I’ll admit-” (Gabion’s jaw tightened.) “-and impossible without magic. I shall provide the magic necessary for the castle to be built, given the large power requirements for such a task. Specifically, I will fortify the platform to support the weight. The instructions for the spell involved have been left at your tent, should you wish to peruse it. When will construction begin? I am available as soon as you need me.” Once he managed to get his thoughts back under control, Gabion looked sideways at Flagstone, who shrugged helplessly. What was he supposed to think about this? It was… downright surreal. Princess Celestia, getting dirty and stacking rocks on top of each other for a castle? Magic or not, that was… But Princess Celestia needed an answer. “A- A week, Majesty,” he said. He fudged on the far side of what he’d normally expect, just in case. Most of the earthen frame had already been excavated; the stones simply needed to be put into place. “We’ll need to- gather the materials necessary, make preparations… those- sorts of- things.” He waved his hoof vaguely, hoping to high heaven that he wasn’t making himself look like an idiot. Princess Celestia inclined her head. “Very well. I shall be here in seven days, at dawn.” At least she knew what was expected of workers. Gabion’s brain was still trying to make sense of it all. “I hope you will forgive me, Majesty,” he said, “but if I-” He quickly bowed down. “But if I might ask, why are you using that design? Surely it would be easier for you to simply make the castle smaller or move some houses aside. That particular district of Canterlot has yet to be constructed.” He held his breath as he raised his head again. Maybe this could still bear some semblance of normalcy. A pause, then Princess Celestia said, “It will demonstrate the strength of Equestria, that we can afford to build something so seemingly risky, that Luna and I, as rulers, will still live in it. Our very confidence in its obvious danger will showcase Equestria’s capabilities. And besides, I like the view.” She giggled, a remarkably girlish sound. Gabion knew buildings could send messages like that, but he still wasn’t convinced. There were better ways to send that sort of message without resorting to castles. And Canterlot was more-or-less in the center of Equestria; anyone who could see the castle would either be an Equestrian already or have seen dozens of less risky messages of the same type on the trip over. Well. He’d take extra care to watch the platform as it was built. He’d know if it was going to collapse. “I see,” lied Gabion. He took a deep breath. “Well, then, Your Majesty, I’ll see you in a week.” He bowed one last time. “Likewise, Gabion.” Princess Celestia inclined her head and climbed into her chariot. In a few minutes, she was gone, and Gabion’s world was almost back to normal. Almost. Gabion quickly gathered the other builders at the site and laid out what Princess Celestia had said. Their reactions were much the same as his: a combination of shock and confusion. After several assurances from him and Flagstone, the collective response seemed to be, “We’ll wait a week and see if it’s true.” The crowd gradually dispersed, leaving him and Flagstone alone on the clear space where the castle would eventually be built. Even after seeing it herself, after telling others it was true, Flagstone still seemed to have trouble accepting it. Gabion sympathized. “Princess Celestia is going to help us,” Flagstone said again in a flat voice. “And that’s why the plans were so…” She sucked in a breath through her nose. “Yeah.” “Right.” “Princess Celestia said she’d left the spell at your tent, right? Can we take a look at it?” Gabion retrieved the scroll sitting on his cot and unrolled it in front of Flagstone. He didn’t worry at all about it not making sense to her; there wasn’t a chance of that. In spite of him being a unicorn and her being an earth pony, Flagstone understood this sort of magic far more thoroughly than Gabion. She was better at the math. He squinted at the description, struggling with the ornate script. “For the reinforcement and suspension of foundations,” he said. Flagstone definitely understood it better than Gabion. She read through the whole scroll in a matter of seconds, and it only took a few more for her to come to a conclusion. “It’s a pretty clever spell,” she admitted, “and it’ll do everything we need for the platform, but it’ll take a lot of magic to work properly. I don’t think a dozen ponies could do it.” “Unless the pony casting it is Princess Celestia, correct?” “Probably, I guess.” “Then as long as she shows up, we ought to be set.” Flagstone snorted. “She better look good in work clothes.”