//------------------------------// // Angst // Story: Not-Yet-Princess Twilight Sparkle and the Tale of the Dark Empress of Teatime // by kudzuhaiku //------------------------------// “Those platypus pyjamas sure do look cute.” Sunset Shimmer spent a moment doing facial gymnastics, an impressive act that ended with a triple eyeroll. Celestia allowed herself a smile; for a while now, her student was far too grown up to say the word ‘cute’ in her close proximity—yet she still wore silly novelty pyjamas. Yes, Sunset was growing up, yet, for all of her seeming maturation, she was remarkably foalish when it came to most things. “Have your breakfast and hurry up. You have a train to catch.” “A train?” A distinctly teenage whine could be heard in Sunset’s voice. “There is a problem. You have a mission. Please, don’t dawdle, as there is much to do and little time to do it in.” Celestia flung open the curtains to allow some sunshine in and ignored the pained groan from her apprentice. “In one hour from now, you’re scheduled for a dyejob.” “A dyejob? Why?” Standing near the window, Celestia turned her head and leveled her gaze on Sunset. “For the mission, of course. Sunset, I don’t want you going as my apprentice. You need to work on your diplomacy skills, and I feel this would be far too easy if you went and threw your weight around. So for this, I don’t want you recognisable.” “This is stupid—” “Young lady, you need to work on your friendship skills. Not everything needs to be solved with brute force. Guile and treachery, while they have their place, should not be the only thing you try. So you’re going to get a dyejob, adopt an alias, and then you are going to rely on charm and wit to get everything done. No making demands, or throwing around the fact that you are my apprentice. Doing that leaves you weak, Sunset. Come up with creative solutions! Make friends!” “Friendship feels pointless,” Sunset retorted. “Ponies should be made to obey. Trying to be nice feels like a waste of time. I shouldn’t have to cajole and make nice just to get my duties done. What’s the point of being your apprentice if I can’t throw my weight around? What is the point of having authority?” Almost exasperated, Celestia reminded herself that Sunset was entering into those difficult teenage years. Apprentices always took a turn for the worse when adolescence struck. For Sunset, it was particularly bad—but all was not lost. Sunset, her dearest, most beloved student—would come around. This lesson would do her some good. “Wait…hold up.” “Yes, Twilight?” “How is Sunny Sunshine supposed to make friends if she’s not herself? Isn’t that lying?” Mere inches above the edge of her teacup, Celestia’s lips quivered. “Sunny Sunshine is going in as a spy!” little Twilight crowed. “And spies are not to be trusted. You can’t make friends with spies. Beware of spies and Pies, for both will catch you unawares.” “Twilight, dearest.” Celestia sipped her tea, summoned her patience, and thought about how to explain this in a way that made sense to one as young as Twilight. “The point, Twilight, is that Sunny Sunshine will learn about diplomacy and tact, which happen to be vital elements for friendship. Being my apprentice affords one a certain sense of power and authority. I didn’t want her exploiting that, and circumventing what was sure to be a valuable lesson.” “But… that’s like… lying.” “No, Twilight. Not lying.” After trying, and failing, Celestia wasn’t sure what to call it, or how to explain it. It wasn’t lying, but it was deceptive. At least, in a sense. It was sneaky. In fact, it was the very sort of guile and treachery that Celestia wanted Sunny Sunshine to avoid, now that she thought about it. All to teach a lesson. It dawned upon Celestia that a mistake might have been made. “Sometimes, sometimes we do strange things that don’t always make sense for the sake of a lesson,” Celestia said, uncertain if she was trying to convince herself or her student. “For Sunny Sunshine, she… ceased to learn for a while. When it came time for a mission, or to get something done, she failed to interact with ponies. She arrived, announced that she was my apprentice, and then demanded things be done, lest my wrath be incurred. This was hurting her, Twilight. Depriving her of necessary life skills. She didn’t learn normal, healthy ways to encourage ponies to do what needed done, but rather, she relied upon threats and coercion.” “Oh.” There was a slight tremble in Twilight’s teacup, but she appeared to be in no danger of dropping it. “So it is like my big brother bossing me around and telling me it’s because Mommy and Daddy said so.” “Yes, Twilight. Very much like that.” “I understand,” the filly said. Her head bobbed up and down, and her fuzzy-wuzzy chin narrowly avoided upsetting her teacup. “I am glad.” “My brother, when he bosses me around, he’s not really mean about it. He’s just trying to be a good big brother. Mommy and Daddy trust him, and he’s always worried about that trust. He talks to me about it, sometimes, and while I don’t always understand, I do try to listen.” Then, Twilight smiled and added, “He gets a little strict when it comes to the vocabulary flashcards.” “Shining Armor understands the importance of eloquence. He’ll make a fine diplomat, your brother. And his hard work paid off… you’re so well-spoken, Twilight… how could I not have you as my apprentice?” She saw her student beam and Celestia felt better. Twilight responded well to praise, flattery, and kind words. It made her easy to manage. “Green is a magnificent colour for you.” Right away, Celestia could see that her kind flattery did not have the desired effect. Sunset fairly bristled and her lip curled back into a rather disrespectful snarl. No words were said, but none were needed to convey what she was feeling, and Celestia understood full well what her student wanted to say. Sunset Shimmer was a fine shade of seafoam green, and her fiery mane was now subdued shades of pale yellow and muted pastel blues. Celestia chose the colours specifically because they were not aggressive, hot colours, but rather, were warm, friendly colours. Kind colours that she felt made her apprentice far more approachable. Little ponies were excitable creatures, and sometimes, overly-vivid colours spooked them. Little ponies were the silliest creatures, at times. “You’ll be travelling to Sleepy Creek, a mining town not far from Tall Tale. That part of the country is known for the flesh-eating willows, so beware of them. You’ve not encountered them, my student, so pay attention to what I have to say. The willows look harmless, but if you get too close, you will be in grave danger. What appear to be leaves are actually tiny flying creatures, which are ravenous for blood. The willow serves as a hive of sorts. When prey is sensed, the leaf-creatures fly off in search of flesh, which they bring back to the willow trunk to act as a fertiliser. Typically, the leaf-creatures go after birds and wildlife, but will also go after ponies who stray too close.” “Yeah, yeah, I understand. If a flesh-eating willow threatens me, I’ll burn it to the ground.” Lips pursed, Celestia tried to express her displeasure without saying anything. “What?” Sunset demanded. “The flesh-eating willows are a vital part of the ecosystem, Sunset. They are beautiful. When the leaf-creatures roost, the branches droop from their weight, making the tree look very much like a weeping willow.” Brows furrowing, Celestia resisted the urge to lecture her grumpy apprentice. “You should learn to appreciate such beauty, even if it is dangerous. If the flesh-eating willows are respected, they are harmless.” “Yeah, I get it. Now, what am I doing? Not sightseeing willows, I hope.” Though her student’s attitude made it difficult, Celestia maintained her composure. “Sunset, the details are sketchy at best. A local unicorn has gone quite mad. I believe her name is Nadir. She now calls herself the Empress of Teatime, and she has declared that every hour, of every day, is now teatime. She’s taken over Sleepy Creek, from what I understand. The town is now held hostage to her whims.” “So what do you want me to do?” Sunset asked. “Do?” Celestia’s lips formed a tight ‘O’ and her wings ruffled against her sides. “I want you to help this poor mare. I’m certain she’s hurting in some way. Be kind to her. Approach her with caution. Earn her trust, if you can. Be gentle, be kind, and try to be the good pony that I know you to be. See what you can do to alleviate her suffering. Coax her into getting some help. If you can, convince her to come to me. I sense that… she is… troubled. There is something about her, but I am unable to discern what it might be.” “Isn’t this a matter for the guard?” Sunset seemed miffed now. “This feels like a waste of time. I’m a skilled wizard now… why am I doing this?” “Because I want you to be more than a skilled wizard, Sunset. You are my student. My apprentice. My protégé. You have endless potential, my apprentice, and I want the best for you.” “If you want her brought to you, I could do that with a lot less fuss. Just sneak in and ambush her—” “No!” Too late, Celestia realised that she had raised her voice. Calming herself, she tried again, this time with a lower, more civil tone. “No, Sunset. No ambushes. No guile. No treachery. No sneak-thievery. Be gentle, be kind, be generous. Laughter is also good.” “This whole thing just sounds pointless. I could be studying magic. Advancing myself. Not foalsitting some crackpot who thinks it should be teatime every day.” Now, her student was sulking, and Celestia felt the hot prickle of frustration running up and down her neck. Adolescence left a dark, rebellious streak in Sunset, which was every bit alarming as it was concerning. Such anger… such choleric temper. But Celestia was certain that this was a phase, and that it would pass. She would just have to be patient. “What’s the point of having all this power if I can’t do anything with it?” Sunset was whining now, and her ears were pinned back against her head. “I have more magic than I know what to do with, and I’m not allowed to do anything with it! Who needs diplomacy when I can just make ponies do as I command. Obedience spells get results. It’s efficient, and time is not wasted. That is time that could be spent in study, or self-improvement.” Though deeply disappointed, Celestia did her best to hide it. “Sunset,” she began, hesitant, “how would you feel if I made you do as I wished, with no regard for your feelings?” “Don’t you do that anyway?” Sunset retorted. Biting her tongue, Celestia choked back her angry words, and then, in a calm, measured tone, she replied, “Right now, I am sticking with diplomacy and tact. Would you like if I used an obedience spell to make you comply? Would you be comfortable with that?” “No.” Sunset spat out the word whilst she glared in defiance. “I have power. Having power, I deserve better. I have enough power to rule. I can make others do what needs to be done, if you’d only let me. How much of Equestria has to fall apart before you come to your senses and allow me to do what needs to be done to restore order? I can do what you’re too squeamish to do. Things don’t have to be as bad as they are.” Sunset had dodged the question. Even worse, her subterfuge, her diversion away from the difficult question suggested monstrous acts, a surefire distraction if ever there was one. Celestia wasn’t sure where to begin, where to start. Things were, perhaps, a little worse than she feared. But she needed time to think, and Sunset, obviously, needed time to cool off. A lesson in patience was needed, perhaps. And one in empathy. Sunset was too focused on results, on success, and too little focus was placed on methods, on ethics, and morality. Upon Sunset’s return, there would be a renewed focus on these subjects. This was just a phase, a trying one, and like so many other troubling things, it would pass. Celestia would need to redouble her efforts; Sunset, a pony with extraordinary potential, was worth it. “I have a list of mission guidelines for you to study, and I’ve taken the liberty of slipping them in with your train tickets. Hurry now, and head to the train station. I believe in you, my student, and know that you will not disappoint me.” Whatever words Sunset might have said came out as a huff. “Sunset Shimmer—” “What,” she snapped, impatient. “I love you dearly. Please, be mindful of the willows.” “Yeah, whatever.” Sunset’s slow eyeroll revealed her true feelings. “If you loved me, you wouldn’t be wasting my time. This is pointless. Meaningless. A distraction away from my studies.” “Go, Sunset… and good luck.” Saying nothing, Sunset stormed away, stomping with every step.