The sun beat down relentlessly on the hillside, over the small grove of trees and over the town that hid in the shade of the mountain. It fell over its thatch huts and its residents as they lurched about in the summer heat.
It shone over the meadows and the brooks and the rivers and the forest, ignoring their complaints and disgruntled comments. Relentless and steadfast it shone on, knowing that nothing in the world could ever stop it.
Except that wasn’t entirely true. As it drifted lower and lower into the sky it began to feel tired. Which, of course, was odd: after all, it had been doing the same job for a millennium with many more to go.
But today it hesitated. It fell lower and lower into the sky, hearing the cheers of the river as the sun’s rays stopped stealing its water, and it felt the sigh of the wind as it blew through the meadow. It watched as the flowers began to unfurl and collapse, waiting for the sun to rise again and bring them to life.
It felt the rhythm underneath the earth and the soft voice of the sky, and it watched as clouds parted politely as the last of its rays made their way to the surface.
On the opposite end of the sky, the sun watched as the moon began to rise, its eerie glow filling the sky.
And for a moment, the sun didn’t want to go. But it did, of course, as some strange force pulled it deeper and deeper across the horizon.
The moon seemed to waver a bit, as if caught off guard by its appearance. Why are you here, it seemed to ask.
Because…
The sun wasn’t sure how to answer. How was one to explain that they were tired, though they had seen the beauty of the world, and that they were cold, though they were burning and warm, and that they were lonely.
The moon didn’t know. It shifted uncomfortably as it ascended, averting its gaze from that of the sun’s. You shouldn’t be here, it suggested.
Below them the river kept flowing and the wind kept blowing, oblivious to the dialectical that was currently happening miles above them.
It was almost time now. The sun knew this. It knew it shouldn’t be there still, in the sky. Now was the moon’s time.
But yet again it hesitated, once again unsure why. It wanted to reach out to the moon and ask… something.
Because…
The sun continued drifting: a denouement to a wordless story. In an act of desperation it reached out again, throwing a word out against the stars. Please.
There was no reply. The sun set a little more and asked again. Please.
The moon hesitated. Eons seemed to pass as both froze in place, unsure of how to continue. Please, the moon finally said. Stop talking to me.
And that was that. The sun disappeared across the horizon and forgot about its worries and its feelings of loneliness. It dipped below the surface and was forgotten, leaving the moon to rule the skies as a solitary queen, with an army of stars in waiting.
And the world moved on. The nocturnal creatures chirped and hissed and howled, prowling about in deep underbrushes and distant forests. And the ponies slept and dreamed the night away, tucked away in their warm beds.
Because…
Because…
Because.
In the royal palace, Princess Celestia blinked once. Then she blinked again. At times the sun would speak to her, whispering sweet nothings and meaningless phrases in her ear. And at times the moon would speak too, in its quiet and subdued ways.
They would speak to her and she would listen. But never once had they spoken to each other.
Celestia looked up at the moon, squinting into the darkness. She felt like something was staring back at her.
Maybe because it was.