//------------------------------// // Chapter 10 - A Day in the Life // Story: Moon and Stars // by keelekingfisher //------------------------------// The sisters sat flank-to-flank on the grass of the Castle Town in the fresh morning, quiet and peaceful. For the first time in far, far too long, both of their fields were free of crises, and they could simply sit together. Enjoy each others’ company with no pretence or waiting tasks. “Robin.” Luna said sleepily, indicating the little shape bouncing through the undergrowth with her horn. “Good spot!” Celestia enthused. Smiling, Luna leaned her head against her sister’s shoulder, eyes drifting shut. It had been a long, tiring night of drilling new Guard recruits, and she wanted little more than to crawl into bed until midnight. But not before finally enjoying some time with her big sister. “Thou look exhausted.” “We are.” Many of the ponies passing by on the dirt road stopped to bow to the Princesses, but none of them attempted to engage them in conversation, leaving the sisters be. “We should probably prepare for the diplomatic meeting soon.” Celestia sighed. “But we have greatly enjoyed this time with you, little sister.” “We love you, Tia. And we’re so sorry for our failures.” Celestia hugged her sister close with a wing, sighing. “We both have our failures, Luna. We’re sorry for snapping at you over them. No matter what, we’re still family, aren’t we?” Her smile returning, Luna affirmed. “You and I, sisters always.” “Always.” One of the many publicly-open areas of Canterlot castle’s gardens was the menagerie, a miniature zoological garden that was carefully tended to by the garden staff, and contained many an exotic animal. Many of them were diplomatic gifts from foreign rulers to the Princess, and dwelled in enchanted enclosures that perfectly mimicked their native environments. There were many animals that couldn’t be seen elsewhere in Equestria, from the two-headed giant buzzards (a gift from the Emperor of Griffinheim), to the tame, miniature hyenas that had been a donation from the Saddle Arabian sultan. But the menagerie had one resident that the public - and even most of the staff - weren’t familiar with. She was free to fly wherever she pleased, but preferred to roost in a decorated tree in the middle of the menagerie, a beautiful attraction in and of itself, but one that hid its resident quite well. Except, of course, from the Princess, who sat beside her on a bench beneath the tree. “She’s not home yet.” Luna whispered as she caressed the bird’s head. “But she’ll be happy to have you waiting.” Philomena had been a pet of Luna’s sister, a beautiful bird with feathers of many sunrise tones, tall and elegant. She was a phoenix, and so one of very few creatures that had accompanied Luna for so much of her own life. She was a sweet bird, affectionate with Luna, but much more melancholy than she had been over a millennium ago, spending much of her time laying in her elaborate nest, always gazing to the east with her ember eyes, waiting for the sun. Sometimes, she’d fly off into the east, and not return for many months. Luna liked to think that she was finding where the sun rose, and waiting there for her old friend. “You’ll be going again, won’t you?” Ever intelligent, the phoenix nodded, nuzzling affectionately against Luna’s foreleg. “Well if you find her, make sure to bring her home. I miss her, too.” Luna sat on one of the benches in the gardens beside the phoenix, looking up at the orange-painted, early-dawn sky. It was setting up to be another long, warm summer, and that only made her heart ache for her sister even move. After a few minutes, petting the ancient phoenix and just thinking in silence, Luna spoke again. “I have a busy day today. A diplomatic meeting I should be going to soon. But I’ve had good news for a change, so I can’t be too grumpy.” She smiled sadly. “Life goes on, I suppose. We’ll keep your nest waiting for you when you’re back. Bring our sun home.” Philomena stood, spreading her wings wide to sun herself in the early dawn, before lifting off, glancing back at Luna. Luna watched her shape shrink, becoming smaller and smaller against the painted sky, until she couldn’t pick out the phoenix from the clouds around her. And then, sighing, Luna stood, beginning another day with an unusual pep in her step. “It is settled, then, the cultural exchange program will begin in a few months.” For a diplomatic meeting with a foreign ruler who had attempted an invasion, this morning’s summit had gone quite well. She and Chrysalis sat in one of the castle’s many grand meeting rooms, feeling curiously empty with just the two of them and their contingents - two armoured changelings for the Queen, and two of her Night Guard for the Princess. There was food and drink covering a fair portion of the table, though half of it was completely untouched - while changelings could eat and drink, they seemed to see little point in doing so unless it was to keep up a disguise. After some greetings - even more uncomfortable than the usual diplomatic niceties - the two had quickly set into deep discussion. Chrysalis hadn’t acknowledged the attack on Canterlot, though her attitude made it clear that she remembered it well, and Luna saw no point in bringing it up, so it remained the elephant in the room. Chrysalis had explained (with a sort of reluctant humility) that changelings needed love to survive and, historically, they would gain this love by way of lone changelings moving into towns, kidnapping and replacing ponies, and sapping it from their friends and families. The Queen felt it was improper for them to be moving alone and, seeing as stealing love under false pretences was so obviously wrong, the Queen had approached the Princess to see about some sort of mutually beneficial exchange. Luna, being an intelligent pony with a functional memory, didn’t trust the Queen as far as she could throw her, and she didn’t look like the lightest changeling. Still, she believed that all beings deserved a chance, and all the sins were on Chrysalis’ back, not the changelings’. So they had agreed to a very limited cultural exchange program. No ponies would be sent to the Badlands (Luna had seen the interior of a changeling hive - there really wasn’t much culture to exchange there), but a small group of changelings would be brought to Canterlot and live among the ponies for several months. They would have to abide by strict rules, being closely monitored by the Night Guard and limited to a small number of pre-approved transformations, but they would be allowed to experience pony culture and report back to their Queen. Hopefully, this would be the first part of a long-standing cultural cooperation between ponies and changelings. “Thank you for your cooperation, Chrysalis. I am certain that this will be the beginning of a period of peace for our two nations. Are you sure that I can’t tempt you to a biscuit? They’re very good!” “Um, no thank you, Princess.” Chrysalis replied, clearly still uneasy. One of her guards licked his lips, and Luna caught his eye, smiled, and raised one towards him. Chrysalis began to glare, but hesitated for a moment. “Fine. It’s a sign of cooperation, or something.” She took three in her magic, eating one herself and handing the others to her guards. The guards looked overjoyed. Chrysalis looked indifferent. In truth, Luna’s intentions with the changelings weren’t entirely selfless: following the return of the Crystal Empire and, more importantly, the Crystal Heart, Luna was wondering if some sort of long-term deal could be come to with the changelings. Their need for love wasn’t their own fault, and perhaps the eldritch mechanisms of the Crystal Heart could provide, allowing them to live peacefully and normally, without deception. And, even if that didn’t work, she was sure that the results would be educational. “It has been a pleasure to have you here, it really has, but I do have other business tonight.” She was still excited about the news earlier, still putting a pep in her step, and she’d sit through a dozen boring diplomatic meetings to see it through. “My aide will escort you to your chariot, she’s just outside.” Luna extended a forehoof and, hesitantly, Chrysalis shook it. “Farewell, Queen Chrysalis.” “Farewell, Princess Luna.” With a respectful nod, the changelings left, and Luna turned around and walked elsewhere in the castle, eager to be done with her chores for the day. It was the start of summer, so close to the end of teaching at all of Equestria’s schools, and Luna’s last guest lesson at the School close to her castle. “The most important principle of spell construction is stability. Never implement a component unless you are entirely familiar with it, and have a good theoretical idea of how it will connect to all other components. While it’s all well and good to simply combine the most useful and powerful components you know in a slapdash way, that spell is almost certainly going to backfire when you attempt it, and it’ll backfire painfully.” Spell construction was a field beyond the skill of most unicorns, but actually shockingly simple for those with adequate training. All conventional spells were composed of several arcane components and, for all but the most skilled mages, creating a spall was simply combining components in a mix-and-match way, taking the environmental draw from a swift-swimmer spell and combining it with the respiratory component of an endurance spell to create a water-breathing spell, for example. Simple in principle, but quite easy to mess up for those not adequately trained, and often painful to mess up. “And that, my dears, will be your summer work - to create a spell. Any spell. It doesn’t matter if it’s completely impractical or world-changing, as long as it’s stable and not just out of a book. Do it slowly and do it safely, and I’m certain that it’ll be easy for you all.” They’d all succeed, Luna was certain. In all her years, none of these prodigies who’d made their way into the School had ever failed at basic spellcraft. It took some longer than others, of course, and some of them might not manage it this summer, but that would be fine. This would let them start on it, and many of them would succeed right away. “And for once, I’ve actually finished a lesson early.” Luna smiled, glancing at the clock. She had a nasty habit of rambling on long after she should’ve finished in these lessons (especially the history lessons), but it seemed that most of the students enjoyed her anecdotes. “I’ll see you all on Friday when you’re going home, of course, but in case I don’t, I’d like to say that it’s been a delight having you all. I hope that you have a lovely, relaxing summer, and come back to us bright and refreshed, ready to learn more.” Generally affirmative mumbles from the class - the sort of ponies at this school were all the kind who greatly enjoyed learning, but they would need breaks, and would almost certainly be quite homesick. The few months at home would do them all a lot of good.  “I’m afraid that I do have more to do today, so I’ll have to leave you, but it has been a delight. Take an early recess.” She added with a smile, and the foals streamed out of the classroom, thanking the Princess as they passed her. She smiled kindly at all of them, tempted to join them on the grounds for a few minutes, but electing to deal with the last of her business for the day first. And then, of course, she could occupy herself with the more enjoyable jobs for the time being. There was a colossal stack of paperwork waiting for Luna in her tower. She wanted to name it, so magnificent it was. The Paper Tower of Canterlot, or something along those lines. It would take hours to get through it all, even with Raven assisting (on most documents, her signature held as much authority as the Princess’, the only pony in the land who could speak directly for her in matters of state). It was Luna’s own fault, really: some days, she just didn’t want to do the paperwork. So she’d procrastinate. There was plenty to keep her busy, of course - a Princess’ work is never done, whether that work be corresponding with foreign rulers or her various subjects, dealing with matters of trade and economy, PR visits to various schools and other institutions, exchanging letters with Princess Cadance, or playing with Tiberius - but being busy with something when you should be doing something else is still procrastination. She had kept herself busy, almost constantly, for the last five days. So the paperwork had simply piled and piled up, formal letters and proposals, not helped by the fact that any proposal needing Bits required several forms. And now she and Raven sat at her desk, methodically working through it. Well, Raven was methodically working through it; Luna found herself much too distracted to focus. “Raven?” “Yes, Princess?” She didn’t even glance up from the papers as she replied, skim-reading and signing them at a rate of knots. “You check over all of these proposals as they come in, don’t you?” Luna skimmed one, a proposal to expand Trottingham’s local marina, and graced it with a quick signature. “Of course, your majesty. It’s more of a formality, really, you know that each proposal goes through several layers of bureaucracy before it ever reaches the castle. I only really check over it in case anything utterly outrageous had slipped through, or if there’s something I felt would require more immediate attention.” “Of course. I do appreciate your hard work, and I don’t tell you that enough.” Raven glanced up from the papers to smile, before returning to her quill. “So in this monument of bureaucracy, is there anything ridiculous?” “Pardon, Princess?” “You know, any of those proposals that made you think ‘why in Equestria did this get to the castle?’ Anything that you wouldn’t even consider approving?” A very, very long pause, absent of even the scratching of a quill. “Lord Hardheart has proposed that he be sent as an ‘advisor’ to the Crystal Empire.” Hardheart. Of all the nobles that Luna disliked, she probably disliked him the most. It was an open secret that he had ambitions of great power, ideas regarding even Luna’s own lofty station if he stood a chance of it. The idea of him in a position of some power alongside the young Cadance… didn’t sit well with Luna. “As you know, Hardheart retains his position, and he has submitted the proposal through the proper channels, so strictly it can’t be vetoed at my level.” “Hardheart, Hardheart, Heardheart…” Luna mumbled, sorting through the stack and taking out the few pages marked with his seal. These she screwed up and discarded in the bin under her desk. “Write up a polite letter of rejection to Hardheart, please. Tell him that his advice is too important to the people of Vanhoover for him to be sent away, or something along those lines. You know the platitudes.” The rest of the stack she levitated outwards, filling most of the air in the office like a bizarre, stationary swarm of insects. Ignoring her quill, Luna extended another part of magical energy to raise the dark blue ink she preferred directly out of the massive inkwell, splitting the blob into hundreds of small blobs, each of which she shaped into her signature, floating in midair. And each of these was pressed to (or somewhere in the vicinity of) the signature line on a paper. It was, by all metrics, an extremely impressive demonstration of magical power. Silently, Luna wished that Twilight could be there, to watch it and be amazed. Even the usual, unflappable Raven looked impressed for a few moments, nodding appreciatively as the papers sorted themselves back into a stack. So impressive a magical feat it was, if anypony had been looking up at the time, they would’ve seen the sun falter slightly in the sky, so much of Luna’s attention had been drawn from it. “I assume I can trust that this breach of the usual protocol won’t be leaving this room, Miss Inkwell?” “My lips are sealed, your highness.” “Lovely. If you could sort that letter and prepare it for my signature, I would be most appreciative. Now, I need to get something in the city.” Luna stood, stretching her wings and walking to the balcony. Her broken wing had mostly healed - the physicians had told her not to carry anything while she flew for another few weeks, but flying herself would be fine. “Oh, your majesty?” Luna turned back to Raven, who had already produced the fine stationery for her task. “It’s a good idea. She’ll love it.” The unicorn smiled kindly. “Thank you, Raven. I certainly hope that she will.” Nopony particularly wanted to be a bureaucrat, but Canterlot had plenty to go around, and Stamped File was one of them. A unicorn with a pink-red coat and rust-coloured mane, his destiny had become quite clear the day he’d sorted out his school’s library and gained his cutie mark, an organised file drawer. He wanted to work in the castle’s archives - practically paradise for a pony with a passion for organisation - but it was a fairly prestigious position, and the ponies running it wanted staff somewhat longer in the tooth than a colt straight out of college. So he worked at the Castle District office of the Bureau of Records, issuing birth and death certificates, sky chariot licenses, travel visas, diplomatic visas, and pretty much anything else that the Princess wanted to keep records of at the castle archives. He’d been promised advancement to the castle once he’d done a few years there. Despite its central position, the Castle District office saw very little in the way of foot traffic: most of the district by area was occupied by the castle and the School, with very little in the way of residential areas meaning that there was very little civilian bureaucracy to be done. Add in that the only hospital in the district was the castle’s infirmary, which wasn’t exactly equipped for births or deaths, and most of what the office dealt with was almost entirely irrelevant.  So Stamp spent most of his time sat behind the front desk, making sure that everything was precisely as it should be and then reading up on whatever topic the pretty mare at the castle library was interested in that week. This week it was magical theory, something that the unicorn had never been that interested in before. 100 pages into the book she’d recommended, he still didn’t get it. The bell tingled as the office’s door opened, and File cursed under his breath, at least wanting to finish this overly jargon-filled paragraph. “Sorry, just give me a second.” He said apologetically, trying to remember what a thaumaturgical insight event was supposed to be. Sighing with resignation at his continued failure to understand, he put his hoof on the line he was up to and looked up. “So what can I help you wi- PRINCESS LUNA?!” He gasped in shock at the massive figure looming over his desk, deeply regretting his somewhat less than professional attitude. She giggled slightly. “Do not worry, Stamped File. I apologise for interfering with your reading time.” The young stallion could feel his face burning, and he tried to figure out what to say. “Is… there something I can help you with?” He sputtered out after a long few moments. “Yes, as a matter of fact. I have some forms that I’d like to submit.” She produced a number of papers, and slid them across the desk. Stamp took them in his magic and read them over. Then he read them again. He blinked in surprise, and read them a third time, just to be sure that he wasn’t utterly misinterpreting things. “Have I made an error?” “Um, no, you’re majesty. I… well, I’m just rather surprised, I suppose.” “The forms are all right, though?” “Oh yes, quite alright. It, er, can take a little over a month to process these forms in particular, but I’m sure that for your majesty we could-” “No, no,” she waved a wing. “Treat me as you would any other pony.” “Of course, your highness.” He smiled nervously. “I’ll just be sending these to the central office and you should hear more, er, soon.” “Wonderful. Thank you, Stamp.” She started to leave, but spoke over her shoulder just before she did. “You’ll be a fine archivist, when the time comes, I’m sure. And maybe just ask her directly, it’s quicker than figuring out magical theory.” Luna winked over her shoulder as she left.  Luna preferred to sleep through the day and be active at night, but when needed, she could go for a great time with no sleep. So at the end of a rather busy day, it was a sense of exhaustion that she was used to, and she knew that the spring nighttime would be her own, a time to be calm and regain her energy before sleeping through the day. But first, before even she stripped off her regalia, Luna trotted to her bedside to check. The news that had kept her so content all the day, she had to read it again, to confirm that it hadn’t all been some lovely dream. So she cracked open the brass-decorated journal to the page with the cloth bookmark, and read the familiar scrawl. Luna I’m coming back. Airship arrives in Canterlot on the day before the Summer Sun Celebration. Grinning to herself, Luna hugged the journal to her chest. After so, so long, Sunset was coming home.