//------------------------------// // VII - The Way Things Are // Story: Sunrise // by Winston //------------------------------// Sunrise ​    Chapter VII - The Way Things Are ​    Trying to put the conversation with Winter Wheat behind her was working about as well as Celestia's recent attempts to control the sun on her own, and for much the same reasons: Deceit didn’t sit well with her, whether it was lying to the pleasant earth pony by not telling her about her potential fate, or to herself by thinking that one lone solarite had a chance in a million of actually moving the sun on her own. After all her frustration, it only seemed more out of reach than ever, no matter how hard she tried. And for all that, there was still something worse. Gaining a grasp on the sun wasn’t the only thing she felt she was failing at. The proverbial saddle on her back only became heavier as Celestia opened the door to the storage-turned-bedroom, then slipped inside and prepared to wake her sister. “Lu—” The words died in her throat when she saw that Luna’s eyes were already open. “Oh.” Celestia paused, stopping in mid-stride with one hoof still in the air. “You’re awake.” Luna just barely nodded. She was laying on her back, staring up at the wooden ceiling with her eyes fixed in an empty gaze. The only movement was the blanket that covered her, rising and falling just slightly with each slow, shallow breath. “It’s sunrise,” Celestia continued. She glanced to the east, turning her head to follow the direction she sensed by the sun’s magic in her horn, but there was nothing to see. Thick dark curtains—a necessity for trying to sleep in the daytime—covered the room’s windows. “I know,” Luna replied quietly. “I can feel the sun and the moon’s magic. I always know where they are now.” “Oh, you do?” Celestia asked. “That’s good. I do too. I… suppose it means… we’re making… progress…” She gave up, realizing her stilted words were just becoming forced awkward noise to fill the silence she dreaded. “How long?” Luna finally asked, after the silence had grown uncomfortable. “How long what?” “How long have you been able to feel them? The sun and moon?” “About a week, I suppose,” Celestia said. “What about you?” “About the same,” Luna said, eyes still fixed upward. “Oh.” Celestia waited. After a few seconds, she cleared her throat. “It’s not easy, though, is it? I’m afraid I haven’t gotten much further than just—” “Why haven’t we talked about it?” Luna asked suddenly. “What?” “I mean, it’s why we’re here,” Luna continued. “It’s literally the most important thing in the world right now. So why haven’t we said anything to each other about whether or not we’re getting anywhere?” “I—” Celestia stammered. “I suppose we just haven’t been talking much in general, lately. We’re on different schedules, we’ve been given a difficult task, and I know we’re both always tired…” “No.” Luna finally moved, rolling under her blankets to face Celestia and lock eyes with her. “None of that’s really it, is it?” Celestia opened her mouth. Nothing came out of her paralyzed throat. The terrible invisible wall, the distance that lay between them, stripped the words from her mind before she even knew what they might have been. She felt like a coward and hated herself for not being able to say anything. “We need to talk, Celestia. Please.” Luna’s voice carried a note of desperation while she lifted herself to sit, slumping weakly on her bed. “I know there are things we don’t want to deal with, but ignoring this isn’t any easier. Not for me.” Celestia was hit suddenly by the way Luna looked more dead-exhausted than anypony she’d ever seen before. The symptoms of her sister's fatigue had crept up on her, one saggy eyelid or drooping ear at a time, but now that she could get a good look at her sister, the full effect hit all at once and she was dismayed at what she saw. Luna's mane was stringy and tangled, and her eyes were bloodshot, their sockets dark-circled and puffy. The sudden realization of how her sister must be suffering struck her like a slap on the face. A lead weight of stinging guilt started sinking through her body. Seconds passed, seeming like hours before the sick feeling in her stomach finally became thick enough to smother her cowardice and force her into action. “You’re right,” Celestia choked out the words. “There’s something wrong, and I don’t know what to do.” “Well, we can’t keep going on like this, because I can’t take it,” Luna said. “I can’t. It has to stop, one way or another. And I don’t know any other way than to just… say what I have to, and deal with however that turns out.” “Alright.” Celestia nodded. She waited, trying to brace herself for a conversation she didn’t want, but needed more than anything to finally have. “So… I guess what I need to say is… I’m sorry,” Luna said in a low voice. “I’m not strong enough, and I’m sorry. I can’t—” She drew in a sharp breath and her jaw quivered, resisting her efforts to continue. Celestia lifted one forehoof and took a single step closer, hesitant and uncertain. “Luna, I—” Luna raised a hoof and shook her hanging head, stopping Celestia. “I’m attracted to mares, and I can’t change that.” She forced the words out, blurting them quickly. Her voice hitched and cracked. “I’ve tried and tried, over and over, and I know it’s wrong and disgusting and I’m not supposed to be this way but I don’t know how to be any different.” Luna swallowed and took a deep breath, steadying her voice. “I hoped I could just… I don’t know. Hide it. Bury it forever, before anypony knew. But you saw the dream and there’s no way you can’t know now, so we might as well stop pretending. I don’t want us to keep ignoring it like this. I’d rather you just told me the truth about how sick and broken I am, because not talking hurts even more.” After another half-second of standing frozen, Celestia jolted into motion like she’d been stung on the flank by a wasp, crossing the room on quick hoofsteps she barely even knew she was taking. As soon as she closed the distance, she threw up her forelegs, drawing Luna into a hug. Luna went limp, collapsing into her sister’s embrace under a mess of dirty cornflower blue mane. “I’m not strong enough,” she said, breaking into hitching sobs. “It’s wrong and I know ponies like me need to be cured, but I just can’t do it.” “Shhhh.” Celestia held her tight and rocked her back and forth in a slow rhythm. “Luna…” Celestia felt Luna’s whole body go tense and knew that her sister was anticipating the worst. She nestled her head against Luna’s neck and rubbed her back, trying to calm her. “It’s alright,” she said slowly. “It’s alright. I don’t care about that.” “W— What?” Luna sounded confused. “How could you not care? There’s something wrong with me. Everypony hates ponies like me.” “Luna, no. I don’t hate you,” Celestia said softly, shaking her head. “You’re my little sister. I love you. Do you think whether or not you like mares really changes that?” “But, if that’s not it, then… what has this all been about?” Luna asked. “Why haven’t we been able talk anymore?” “Because— because it’s my fault we haven’t,” Celestia said. “Your fault? I’m the one who dreamed about—” “Yes, I saw it, and yes, it was uncomfortable, but not just because there was a mare,” Celestia said. “It was because I was right there watching my own sister’s erotic fantasy. What if you had to be there seeing me in a dream about enjoying… private time… with a stallion? Sharing those kinds of… excited feelings, in front of an audience? Wouldn’t you be embarrassed?” Luna cringed, then nodded. “Mortified.” “See? It’s no different,” Celestia said. “Listen to me, Luna. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you, or with the dream you had. Everypony has dreams like that sometimes, but nopony is used to seeing those private moments when they belong to somepony else, especially their own relatives.” She paused and sighed with a heaving breath. “The truth is, I just didn’t know how to look at you, or how you’d look at me, after accidentally sharing something so personal. I was scared and embarrassed and I let it strain things between us because I made too much out of nothing. I’m sorry. I hate it as much as you, and I don’t want things to be like that anymore, either. I just— I just didn’t know how to handle it. And because of that I let you down. Can you forgive me?” Luna nodded vigorously and wrapped her forelegs around Celestia, squeezing her tight. For the next few minutes, they held each other. Celestia felt the distance between them evaporate and enjoyed soaking in the presence of her sister again, a warm fire of companionship to finally drive back the freezing night of solitude that had frostbitten them for too long. After a while, Luna had calmed, her breathing slow and steady and the tension and hitches that threatened tears faded away. “Do you feel better now?” Celestia asked. “Relieved,” Luna said, with a sigh and a tiny laugh. “Like my chest isn’t being crushed in a vice anymore.” “You know I’d never do that to you,” Celestia whispered. “I know,” Luna whispered back, with a quick nod. After another long quiet moment, Celestia smiled. “Who was she, anyway?” Luna’s eyes widened slightly in momentary surprise. “You really want to know?” “Yes.” Celestia nodded. “You’re right, we need to be able to talk again. So let’s talk.” “Her name was Fire Opal,” Luna said. “She was in my class at Basic Magic School when I started Thaumosciences training.” “And did she really look as good as what we saw?” “Wellll… maybe not quite so perfect.” Luna cleared her throat and took on a weak smirk. “There may have been some idealizing going on in my imagination. It’s hard to help it.” “A crush has a way of doing that.” Celestia smirked back. “But that’s alright. It’s your dream, so why not make it a good one?” “A good point. But still.” Luna’s smiled faded, replaced with wariness. “You’re really not upset about this?” “Luna, I think everypony knows the reality—that there are mares out there who like other mares. Stallions who like stallions.” Celestia shrugged. “And a lot who like both, to some degree or another. The Unicorn Kingdom says they shouldn’t, but they do and it’s just the way it is. It always has been. I don’t want to hate you for that.” “Thank you, that means a lot to me,” Luna said. “It’s just so difficult when all I’ve ever heard is how wrong it is.” “Yes, and that’s what I’m most worried about.” Celestia sighed. “Are you going to be okay with who you are?” “I don’t know,” Luna admitted, hanging her head. “I guess I really haven’t been, so far. I’ve always felt alone, like I’m the only one. Like all those signs about getting cured are pointed right at me. Right now I’m still just in shock that telling you didn’t go as badly as I was scared it would. I just assumed you’d be completely disappointed with me.” “To be totally honest, maybe in some ways, part of me does have trouble with it. It’s hard not to be affected by what I’ve been told all my life.” Celestia stared at the floor. “But, at the same time, in a lot of other ways, I’m not sure what to believe anymore. I’ve had to do a lot of thinking lately about all the things the Unicorn Kingdom has always told us. I wanted to hope that they had good intentions, and that they mostly tried to do what was right. I never wanted to think they might do bad things. But look at where we are.” “Anypony would have to admit, it’s not looking good.” Luna nodded. “Clover was right,” Celestia said. “This really has been a long time coming. Ever since I was taken off the sun control team, I’ve felt hollow. I belonged there, Luna. I had a purpose. The sun is what I was meant for. I trusted the Unicorn Kingdom to respect that and do the right thing in exchange for me doing my best with my talents. I see now how one-sided that was. When they took it away and sent me to do field research so that Star Fire could have her horrible project, they stripped the meaning from my life and never once cared how much it hurt.” “I know.” Luna nodded. “I saw how hard it was on you. I hoped every day that they’d send you back to sun control. But I see this is how it has to happen instead.” “Exactly.” Celestia stomped a hoof and her voice took on a hard edge. “And if they so blatantly disregard the natural way of things—denying ponies their place in the world, trying to engineer ways for unicorns to steal earth pony magic, stealing their foals, robbing the future—then what right could they possibly have to try to tell you that the way you are is wrong for being something they proclaim ‘unnatural?’ Why should we care what they think? What they say you should be? Why should we believe them anymore when all they do is hurt us?” Luna sat with downcast eyes and a troubled look on her face, saying nothing. Celestia fumed for a few more seconds, but her anger finally softened and dissolved away into concern when she looked at her sister’s tired face. “How long have you been awake, anyway?” Luna looked up. “I’m fine,” she mumbled in a defiant tone. “Luna.” Celestia gave her a skeptical look. “Alright, most of the night,” she admitted with a huff. “But so what? There’s nothing to be done about it now. It’s my turn to work soon.” “Or you could go back to bed and get some sleep,” Celestia said. “I’d really prefer if you did. Pardon my saying so, but you look like Tartarus.” “But what about Cardinal Clover?” Luna persisted. “She—” “Trust me, there will be a conversation with Clover. But later. I think it’s time we started making some of our own decisions, for a change,” Celestia said firmly, “and I’ve decided we can afford a day off.” Luna still didn’t move. Celestia’s eyes narrowed, becoming stern but not unkind. “Bed,” she ordered, pointing with one hoof. “Now.” Despite a weak grumble of protest and a reproachful glance, Luna conceded to the command, getting back on her straw mattress and pulling her blankets up over her body. Celestia looked over at her own side of the room. She hesitated. Although she was more than ready to get some sleep herself, the distance of barely a couple meters suddenly seemed dismal. It felt like it would be a long, lonely walk, and knowing that the bed waiting over there would just be ice cold was utterly unappealing. After taking a moment and silently considering her options, she decided there was a much better choice. She crawled in with Luna instead, sliding under the blankets quickly to conserve warmth. Settling in, she wrapped her forelegs around Luna’s barrel, the way she used to years ago when they were fillies and her little sister needed protecting from monsters lurking in the dark, scary night. Luna yawned and smiled while she nestled herself closer. Together, their eyes drifted shut easily and they both slept more soundly than they had in weeks. ​    ☙ ☀ ❧     Early the next morning, Celestia was awake and waiting when the knock on the door she was anticipating finally came. She answered quickly, flinging it open to reveal a startled looking Clover standing on the other side in the pre-sunrise darkness. “Good morning,” Celestia greeted her. “Thank you for coming at this hour.” “Certainly.” Clover yawned. “A little on the early side, but avoiding attention is a good precaution. The note you teleported to me yesterday said it was urgent?” “Yes.” Celestia nodded. “I hate to bring you all the way out here, but we need to talk.” “Hmmm? What about?” Clover asked, peering at Celestia curiously with her gold eyes. “Not here.” Celestia looked backwards over her withers, making sure the house was empty and no one else was listening, then pointed across the yard. “Out in the shed, if we could. Please.” “Umm, alright. Fine.” Clover looked a little nonplussed, but turned and started walking. Celestia followed her, in a slow, deliberate march across the frozen yard. When they arrived, she opened the door, waited for Clover to enter, and then followed her in. Clover waited until the door was shut behind them. “Now, what is this about?” Celestia rounded on her. “This is about Luna.” A low fire suddenly filled her voice. “I don’t think you understand how badly she’s been hurt.” “Hurt?” Clover asked, becoming visibly tense. “How? What happened?” “What you did to her,” Celestia said. “You tore her most private dreams out into the open, exposed her deepest secrets, humiliated her, then waved it off like it was nothing. Like it doesn’t matter.” “Oh, come on, this again?” Clover rolled her eyes. “Well, it shouldn’t matter! She must know perfectly well that I don’t think any less of her for—” “She does NOT ‘know perfectly well.’” Celestia insisted, raising her voice a notch. “And you can’t seriously think so, not when you know perfectly well what the Unicorn Kingdom says about… about those kinds of… you know. That they’re sick and need to be stomped out.” “But that’s not what I think,” Clover protested. “I never said that.” “You never said otherwise, either,” Celestia said. “The most you ever did was just try to sweep it under the rug because it was inconvenient to deal with. And I understand why, because maybe it is uncomfortable and maybe it really isn’t your business, but… but I can’t let it hurt Luna like this anymore, because it hurts me, too. We couldn’t even talk to each other for most of the last two weeks. I was too frightened to face the embarrassment, and she was scared to death that I would hate her because of what I saw. That wedge tore us apart. I nearly lost my own sister! Do you understand? Do you realize how painful it is, what you did to us?” “I’m sorry.” Clover’s face fell. “I had no idea.” “No, I know you didn’t.” Celestia’s voice softened as she continued. “I don’t think it’s entirely your fault, but the fact is, you’re a pony with a lot of authority over us. And I think my sister and I have read certain things into your position because that’s what we’re used to.” “Such as?” “Such as, you represent how things work in the Unicorn Kingdom—including the problems that come with it,” Celestia said. “My sister and I aren’t high ranking mages. We’re used to being subordinate, and I think you’re used to having subordinates to do whatever you want with. It’s hard to think or act differently when a certain way is all any of us have ever known. Ponies go back to what they’re familiar with, even when it’s not necessarily good for them. But I realize now, we’d be a lot better off if we learned not to do that to ourselves or anypony else anymore.” “So what are you saying?” Clover asked. “That you don’t want to do this? You don’t want to work with me?” “Not quite.” Celestia shook her head. “What I’m saying is, I’ve given this a lot of thought, and… and it hurt me and Luna, but it’s also bigger than just that. The real problem underneath it is that it shows how we think we’re trying to change things, but the truth is, nothing will be different if we’re not different. This is exactly the way we’ve always been treated by the Unicorn Kingdom. We—me, and Luna, and everypony—it’s like we’re not even real. Like we don’t matter.” “You feel marginalized.” Clover nodded. “Alright. I can certainly see that. I only wish you’d said something before.” “Say something?! That’s just it!” Celestia laughed bitterly. “The problem is that this system is so deeply ingrained in us that I’m terrified right now to speak to you this way. A junior thaumite can’t just say this kind of thing to a cardinal mage.” Celestia started pacing back and forth along the stacks of firewood, getting agitated. “But it’s true, and it needs to be said. Yes, we’ve been marginalized. We have been from the start, ever since you saw my report and tracked us down. You didn’t ask for our help, you just used your rank to rip us out of our lives and commandeer us. You dragged us through a dreamwalk that humiliated us. You decided on the plan to take the sun. You pushed us into moving out here into this farm to start working for you as quickly as possible. Me and my sister… everything just… rushes by around us, and we can’t say no. Both of us are scared witless about what this is going to cost us and how badly this could end, but we’ve never once had any real choices about anything. Luna and I are nothing but tools being used to make your plan happen. Aren’t we?” Celestia stared at Clover, waiting for an answer. “Well, that’s not what I— I mean, it’s complica—” Clover snapped her mouth shut and sat down. She stared at the dirt floor, scuffing one forehoof back and forth, scowling. Celestia just kept waiting through the silence. “Darn it, you’re right,” Clover finally conceded, standing up. “There’s no real argument. You are right. I’m so used to the way things are, I never quite saw it, but I’m forced to admit – yes, it’s a problem. I…” she laughed sardonically. “I’m no better than Star Fire, am I? Your question really cuts to the heart of things. How can we ever make things better if we’re not any better ourselves?” “We can’t.” Celestia shook her head. “There’s no point in doing this at all if it’s just going to end up being more of the same. Ponies will still be cemented in their strata: unicorns will still be tyrants, earth ponies will still be slaves. The same problems that are bringing us to ruin in the north will just come south. You said that yourself.” “Well.” Clover rubbed her chin. “Only one answer, then. Something different has to begin here, doesn’t it? I’m sorry. I promise to treat you fairly from now on. What can I do to make things better?” “You can start with Luna,” Celestia said. She walked to the door of the shed and stood to the side while she held it open, looking toward the farmhouse. “Because to her, you’re the one with the authority. She needs to hear it from you.” Clover nodded slowly, then started walking back to the house. ​    ☙ ☀ ❧     Clover and Celestia waited outside the shared bedroom, watching the sun gradually start to rise. Just about when the first rays of fiery gold light started spilling in the windows, Luna opened the door and emerged. She was bright-eyed and smiling. Celestia’s spirits rose to see her looking far better rested than she had any morning out here on the farm so far. “Good morning, Luna!” Celestia smiled. “We have a visitor.” “Oh!” Luna smiled back and nodded. She turned to Clover and bowed. “Good morning, Cardinal Clover.” “Just, ummm… just Clover, from now on, if you please,” Clover said, sheepishly. “How are you this morning, Luna?” “Doing well, thanks,” Luna said. “And you?” “Not bad, all things considered,” Clover said. “Luna, I know you’re just getting up, but let me cut to the chase. I’m here to talk to you and your sister because some revelations have come to me about things that I should have addressed long before now, but haven’t.” She swallowed uncomfortably. “Let’s sit down.” All three of them walked over to the small dining table in the house’s main room. They sat down around it, Clover on one side, and the sisters on the other. Clover put her forehooves together on the table and looked down. “I think I should start with an apology,” she began after a few awkward seconds. “A real one this time. Luna, I’m very sorry about what I did to you by exposing such an extremely private dream. I can’t really imagine how difficult or humiliating that must have been, especially given the Unicorn Kingdom’s constant moralizing against… ummm, that kind of… well. Anyway. I understand now that it’s caused more distress than I realized, for you and your sister.” “It has been difficult,” Luna said, guardedly. “I know nothing can undo whatever damage it— I— caused,” Clover said. “I want to make sure you know, however, that I see you no differently than anypony else, and that’s the honest truth. Really. I don’t believe that having those kinds of dreams, or those feelings, makes anypony bad or means they’re in need of being changed or fixed. I think you’re a good pony the way you are. And I hope that this mistake hasn’t made me seem too thoughtless and inconsiderate to be forgiven.” She waited, looking tense and uncomfortable. “If it’s my forgiveness you want—” Luna reached out across the table and put her hoof on Clover’s “—then you have it. I accept your apology.” “Thank you.” Clover smiled and looked up, loosening visibly with relief. “No, thank you,” Luna said. “I want nothing more than to put this behind us all. Hearing this helps a great deal.” “That’s good.” Clover nodded. “Further related to this, it’s also been brought to my attention that I’ve also managed our project in some other less than ideal ways. Looking back, I think this dreamwalking incident shows how I’ve been running a little roughshod with demands on you and your sister.” Luna blinked. “Well, you are the cardinal mage here.” “No.” Clover shook her head. “I mean, yes, but… but maybe that’s the problem.” “I’m not sure I follow.” “We’ve been operating under the same hierarchy as we were all used to in Thaumosciences,” Clover said. “The absoluteness of the power I have and you don’t has led me to trample all over what you and your sister might actually want. I don’t think that’s how things should be, not if we’re going to do this right.” “How else, then?” Luna asked. “I suppose I could start by offering another apology, and giving you a choice,” Clover said. “I’m sorry to have taken you away from your lunarite apprenticeship and thrown you into this predicament, this crazy plan to move the sun and moon. It’s not really fair, is it?” She sighed. “Luna… you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” “I can quit? Just like that?” Luna asked. She looked over at Celestia. “What about my sister?” “Her too.” Clover nodded. “You’re both free to go, whenever you want. I’ll get you new assignments, or send you back to what you were doing before. Whatever you think is best.” “But if we did, what about the plan? What happens to the Unicorn Kingdom and the earth ponies?” “I don’t know.” Clover shrugged. “I can try to throw a wrench in Star Fire’s work, buy some time, perhaps evacuate a small number of earth ponies southward. Or maybe find other unicorns who can figure out how to move the sun and moon, although I don’t have much hope for that. I suspect you were really the only two candidates of your generation. But, regardless, I’ll think of something.” Luna gave Celestia a questioning look. “What will you do? Will you stay?” “I think—” Celestia scrunched her muzzle, thinking for several seconds. “Yes, I think I will. I know it won’t be easy, but I also know it’s the best chance ponies have for all three of our tribes to continue surviving. I don’t think I can just do nothing.” “Well, I’d certainly appreciate it,” Clover said. “If you’ll stay and figure out how to move the sun, that’s halfway there. I’ll just have to find somepony to move the moon, or maybe learn how to myself, if I must. And if I can. Or there may be alternate possibilities using just the sun, if not.” “…No.” Luna shook her head. “You won’t have to. If Celestia is staying, then I’m staying.” “Luna, are you sure about this?” Celestia asked. “It’s been hard on us already, and might get a lot worse before it gets better. What we’re doing is dangerous. You don’t have to stay just for me.” “No, I don’t have to, but I want to,” Luna said. “You have a better chance with my help, and you’re right, this is best for everypony. I’ll stay for them, because this is bigger and more important than any of us three. Besides, we’ve come this far already. It’d be a shame to walk away when we’re starting to make progress.” “Alright.” Celestia nodded. “As long as it’s your decision.” “It is.” “Thank you, Luna,” Clover said. “I’m glad you’re willing to stay. I’m sorry that conditions so far have been stressful and difficult. I’d like to say that they’ll get better, but I need to be honest and admit upfront that I don’t know if they will. Your sister is right, what we’re doing is inherently dangerous, both magically and politically. We all take a lot of risks here.” “I know.” Luna nodded. “But I also know it will be worth it. I’m not sure how, other than reaching for the moon is something that some part of me knows I have to do. I can’t really explain it beyond that.” “I understand,” Celestia said. “The sun calls to me, as well. I don’t think I could go back now even if I wanted to.” “Speaking of, what kind of progress have you been making, exactly?” Clover asked. “Well, I can tell you where the sun and the moon are in the sky,” Celestia said. “And I can feel it when they rise and set. We’ve both been able to for about a week now.” “That was quick.” Clover looked surprised. “I don’t suppose you’ve achieved any influence on motion?” “No, not yet.” Celestia shook her head. “I can feel the sun, but… how can I put it…? I’m not so sure the sun can feel me. The distance is immense and I don’t think either of us have an idea yet about how to bridge it. The moon is closer, but—” “Still impossibly far,” Luna finished for her. “Even so, this is very promising!” Clover smiled. “I would have thought that you’d still be in an initial investigation stage at this point with nothing to show yet. Already moving toward gaining that kind of attunement is excellent.” “Perhaps, but it’s been a mixed experience,” Celestia said. “On one hoof, I’m as surprised as anypony how quickly we’ve gotten as far as we have in only two weeks. On the other, they’ve been by far the longest weeks of my life. It’s frustrating, because I have a strong urge pushing me to move faster, even when I seem to be hitting a wall. It’s exhausting. Every night leaves me completely drained.” “Well, I don’t want to ask you to bang your head against a wall,” Clover said. “If you need time off, please take it. Burning out won’t help anything.” “I wish I knew what would help.” Celestia shook her head. “I don’t suppose time pressure will, will it?” Clover asked. “Because, while I know it’s still early yet, we really should start thinking about the earth pony component to all this. Arrangements need to be made. There’s a meeting I’d like to try to set up soon.” “Meeting with who?” Celestia asked. “Ideally, the top of their leadership,” Clover said. “The earth pony chancellor.”