Larval Concept
The golden aura of Princess Celestia’s magic surrounded the gold-rimmed china teacup as she levitated up off the saucer and raised it delicately to her mouth, sipping gently from the tea within. “Princess of Hope, you say?”
“So they tell me, Princess,” Sunset replied, and her horn flared with green light as she too lifted her teacup up and drank from it.
“Sunset, please,” Celestia chided. “There is no need for that.”
Sunset smiled as she set her cup back down on the saucer. “So they tell me… Mother.”
Princess Celestia chuckled wordlessly, a fond smile upon her face that illuminated her eyes and set a sparkle in them like starlight.
“So they tell you with good reason,” Twilight pointed out. “Do you still doubt it?”
“Not exactly,” Sunset replied. “But… there isn’t much to prove it, is there? It’s… a theory.”
“One with which I can agree,” Celestia said. “Having heard what you told those three young fillies, I am inclined to agree with their conclusions. And, even if I did not, it is their talent to discover and discern such things, not mine.”
Sunset grinned. “So I should trust in their cutie marks when they tell me what my cutie mark and my crown are?”
“On the subject of your cutie mark, I have no doubt that they are correct,” Celestia said, and once more, she raised her teacup and drank from it. “I had my suspicions at the time, from the moment that you got your cutie mark, and I learned from you and your teachers just how you came by it.”
“'Suspicions'?” Sunset repeated. “You never gave them voice to me.”
The three princesses – Sunset could get used to including herself in that esteemed company – were sat in the palace gardens. The sun shone as brightly as it ever did under Celestia’s control, untroubled by any cloud in the sky around, its golden light bearing pleasantly down upon them to illuminate the flowers that surrounded them in a riot of colour. They sat around a round white table, supported upon spindly brass legs that curled ornately in loops and which dug slightly into the grass beneath them. A china teapot, three cups and saucers, and a plate of shortbread biscuits sat between them.
“It was impossible to know for sure,” Celestia replied. “You were so magically gifted, many believed that your talent was that same magical gift. The circumstances under which you acquired your cutie mark gave me pause, and I had hope that your gift might turn out to be something more cooperative, but… as I said, I do not have the skill of Twilight’s young friends in determining what a pony’s talent is or is not. Twilight’s cutie mark seemed also to be her prodigious magical talent, but the design of her cutie mark made me hope that it would be something more.”
Twilight put down her tea cup. It clinked against the saucer. “You mean you took me on as your student not because of my magical talent, but because-”
“Because you could become the Element of Magic and the Princess of Friendship,” Sunset finished for her. “I thought you’d worked that out by now.”
“You give me too much credit, or too little,” Celestia said. “But it is true that mere magical talent could have been honed within the school. I didn’t know exactly where either of your gifts would take you, but I hoped it would take you where no ordinary unicorn would go.” She smiled. “And you both did, each in your own way, and you both achieved your destinies, not with great magical skill, but with the more hidden talents that lay within you, revealed only in your cutie marks.”
“Well,” Sunset murmured. “Not with great magical skill alone. In either of our cases.”
“Maybe,” Twilight acknowledged. “But the point stands, right?”
Sunset nodded. “Oh, the point definitely stands.”
She levitated a shortbread up to her mouth and took a demure nibble, chewing it for a few moments before swallowing. It was sweet, and crumbly, and soft on her tongue. Delicious.
“I absolutely take your point, and certainly as far as my cutie mark goes, looking back at what I’ve done… what I’ve helped others to do… it is not a talent I’m ashamed to have.”
“I don’t see any reason why anypony should be ashamed of their cutie mark,” Twilight said.
“Says the pony who has no need to be ashamed of hers,” Sunset replied. “Some of them are a bit… some ponies get rubbish marks, you must admit.”
“Such as?”
Sunset thought about it for a moment. “Drawing circles.”
“It doesn’t make drawing circles the only thing that that pony can do.”
“I know,” Sunset replied. “But what does it say that the greatest gift you can give to Equestria is to draw circles?”
“I think it’s quite cool to be able to draw a perfect circle every single time.”
“You would,” Sunset muttered, with a smile to show she meant no ill by it. “Although I’m a little surprised to hear that you can’t draw a perfect circle.”
“I can… sometimes,” Twilight admitted. “That’s why it’s cool to be able to do it every time.”
“I am sure that there are some misguided individuals who would say that a talent for helping others is every bit as worthy of mockery as drawing circles,” Celestia said, in a tone of gentle reproof.
“I wasn’t mocking-”
“But the fact that there are some who do not appreciate a thing does not mean that there is nothing to appreciate,” Celestia continued. “Only that those who do not appreciate are not looking from the right angle.”
“Okay, okay, I take your point; I didn’t mean to put anypony down,” Sunset said, raising her hooves in surrender. She paused. “Is that why you didn’t tell me what my mark might mean, because you knew that I would be one of those who did not appreciate it?”
Celestia was silent for a moment. “When you invited your fellow student over to help him study, I said very little, but in truth, I was delighted by it, and even more delighted when it seemed that you might have a true talent, declared by destiny itself, for assisting others in their goals and endeavours. I hoped that you would come to that realisation on your own, or at least that you would continue what you had begun with Snapdragon. But you did not, and soon… it became too late to nudge you in that direction; you had become… you would not have understood the lesson if I had tried to teach it to you.”
“I had to learn it on my own,” Sunset murmured. “And I say that not just because I did learn it on my own, but because… you were a wonderful teacher, and I loved every moment that we spent together, and I have always and will always value your advice, but – and I think Twilight will agree with me on this, and I think that you must agree with me too, or you wouldn’t have sent Twilight to Ponyville in the first place – that there is only so much that you can learn from formal lessons, even from the very best of teachers.” She paused for a moment. “Professor Ozpin thought that if he raised Amber in isolation, away from the corruption of the world, that he could raise a perfect Maiden out of the old stories, virtuous and kind. Instead…”
“In order to laugh, you need to learn how to cry,” Twilight said. “You cannot be generous if you’re always given everything you want. It’s easy to be honest or loyal when it doesn’t cost you anything, and it’s easy to be kind when everypony dotes on you.”
“Quite so, Twilight,” Celestia replied. “As much as it pained me to see you go, I knew that it was only by leaving my side and making your own life in Ponyville, forging your friendships and having your adventures and, yes, suffering your travails, that you could fulfil your destiny. And, although it was not planned in your case, Sunset, I am glad that you too travelled that same path.” The smile faded from Celestia’s face. “Although it is a pity that Professor Ozpin did not learn the same lesson.”
“Indeed,” Sunset murmured. “If… if I am at all disappointed, it is that my crown does not better allow me to help him in his labours.”
Celestia’s eyebrow rose. “And why should a Princess of Hope be unable to help him? It seems to me, from our admittedly brief acquaintance, that Professor Ozpin – or whatever he chooses to go by next – is in great need of hope. Perhaps he is in more need of hope than anything else. From our conversation, I fear the years have sapped his will.”
“I fear you may be right,” Sunset agreed. “And yet, while I may be able to make him more buoyant… somehow, I’m not sure how this is supposed to work, but in any case, giving him more hope will not actually bring our victory any closer.”
“But banishing despair may push defeat further off,” Celestia remarked.
“That… that is true,” Sunset acknowledged. “You speak wisely, as ever.” She chuckled to herself. “I kind of wish that I was princess of something that I could more obviously control.”
“You don’t get to be princess of just anything,” Twilight informed her. “Only something that you’ve already worked towards. In a sense, you became princess of… keep doing what you’re doing.”
“You didn’t mention that, either,” Sunset pointed.
“Would it have helped?”
“Considering I didn’t know what I was doing at the time, probably not,” Sunset conceded. She snorted. “Princess of Keep Doing What You’re Doing. Except I’m not so sure.”
“You think Twilight is mistaken?” Celestia asked.
“No,” Sunset said quickly. “I’m just not sure that doing what I’ve been doing – even at my best self… actually, I’m not sure that what we’ve been doing is the way to get to what I want: a final victory.” She took another bite of shortbread. “Can I run something by the two of you?”
“Of course,” Celestia said. “You have never hesitated to ask for our help or advice before.”
“I have, actually, but never mind,” Sunset said. She leaned forward a little, resting her hooves upon the table and pushing her teacup and saucer away from her. “Professor Ozpin has kept everything a secret from all but his closest confidants: Maidens, Relics, Salem, all of it. He gave out to his servants only such information as he would need. He had his reasons for that, and I don’t think that he did it to preserve his own power the way I did before, but… nevertheless, I didn’t agree with it at the time, and I don’t really agree with it now. It strikes me that, if I am to follow a path of hope, as it seems that I ought to… I should put my faith in humanity and tell them all the truth about all of this, trusting them to come together against Salem, to do what’s right, to prove that we – that they – are not as weak and easily corrupted as she thinks, or that Professor Ozpin fears. There would be risks behind it; if everyone found out about a mastermind controlling the grimm and aiming at the destruction of the kingdoms, then panic would spike… but if General Ironwood were on board with the plan, then he could deploy his forces to protect the world while we got over that initial hump and everybody else organised themselves to…”
Twilight and Celestia both waited for a moment. “To what?” Twilight asked.
Sunset laughed self-deprecatingly. “Well, that’s the thing, isn’t it?” she asked. “Yes, it would be a very hopeful move: tell everyone the truth, put your faith in people, trust love… but to what end? What good will it do to unite the world against a foe who cannot be brought down? I feel… I feel as though I need the answer to that question before I do… before I take such a momentous step, at least.”
“I cannot fault the logic of that,” Celestia conceded. “But, nor can I say that I do not like your notion. Telling the people of Remnant the truth… I understand, from what you’ve told me, that it comes with risks, but as Twilight said: it is easy to be honest when it costs you nothing.”
“I’m not sure how Professor Ozpin – or General Ironwood, for that matter – will feel about the idea, but if you think it’s a good one, then I will put it to them.”
“Sunset,” Celestia said. “I will always be ready to offer what counsel I can, but you are a princess yourself; that alone should give you confidence in your own decisions.”
I’d have more confidence in my decisions if my decisions worked out more often, Sunset thought, but it was good advice and kindly meant, and so she said, “I… I will try.” She paused for a moment. “Do you think… do you think that it’s too soon to write to Ruby? I know that it hasn’t been very long, but-”
“I’m sure she’d be delighted to hear from you,” Twilight said.
“Really?” Sunset asked. She hesitated. “Would… would you two mind staying?”
“If you wish,” Celestia said. “Or perhaps, since you don’t have the book with you, the correct term would be that we should come with you.”
“No, stay here,” Sunset said. “I’ll be back in just a second.” She teleported, disappearing in a flash of green light and a crack, and reappearing with that same crack and a second brilliant flash of light inside the palace – inside her room in the palace, to be precise.
She found, somewhat to her surprise, that she wasn’t alone in there. There was somepony else present when she teleported: a dark blue earth pony in a dark waistcoat, presumably a servant.
A servant who jumped slightly when she teleported in.
“Sorry,” Sunset said hastily. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I wasn’t expecting anyone to be in here.”
“Well, I am, as you can see,” the servingpony replied.
“Well, yes,” Sunset admitted. She paused, waiting for anything that might be forthcoming.
Nothing was.
“So why are you here?” she asked.
“Just… tidying up,” he said, tugging at the bed cover with one hoof.
“Right,” Sunset replied.
That made sense. There was no need to be suspicious; why else would anypony be in here? This wasn’t Remnant; she didn’t need to be on edge all the time.
This was Equestria, here she could relax.
“I’ll leave you to that in a second; I just need to grab something,” Sunset said.
Her horn glowed as she grabbed her saddlebags in the grip of her telekinesis and pulled them out of their hiding place under the bed, opening up the left bag and pulling from it a new journal, one that she had made, connected to another book that Ruby had in Freeport. It was, like the journal that Celestia had given her so long ago, a leatherbound book, large, with a sense of weight and gravity about it – a very real weight and gravity; you could hit someone with this if you wanted to – and embossed upon the cover with half of Sunset’s sun, the sun that would illuminate others for all to see them and admire them, and half with Ruby’s rose.
Sunset replaced the saddlebags but kept the book, drawing it close to her with a half smile upon her face, before she teleported back out into the garden where Princess Celestia and Twilight were waiting for her.
“I’m back,” she said. “And I see you’ve already made room, thank you.”
“No problem,” Twilight replied.
Sunset laid the book out on the table, opening it up to the first page.
The first page, with everything unwritten, blank, waiting to be covered.
Yeah, I’ll take that.
Sunset picked up a pen – thank you again, Twilight – and began to write.
Hey, Ruby. It’s Sunset here. You’re probably busy ruling Freeport wisely and well, but if you have a moment
Sunset!
I caught you at a good time, then?
Uh huh. I had some time to myself. I just got done with a tribal council meeting – although that’s pretty much just Ember and Rutherford at the moment, but we are talking about how to get the other tribes back – and then soon I’ll have to go to a meeting of the city council. Or at least a meeting about how we can set up a city council.
To do what?
To run the city. I don’t want to have to always be here because there’s nobody else who can make any decisions in my place, so I’m trying to set up another council that can govern the city even if I’m not around. Torchwick says I should just leave him in charge if I go anywhere
Yeah, I think your idea is much better.
I’m glad to hear it. Dad said it was a good idea too, but part of me is worried that I’m just being lazy, trying to offload my responsibilities onto other people.
“May I, Sunset?” Celestia asked.
“Of course,” Sunset said, a slight smile playing across her face as she set down the pen. Celestia’s horn glowed as she, in turn, took it up and began to write.
Ruby, this is Princess Celestia. I would like to offer some advice, if I may.
Oh, hello, Your Majesty. Please, be my guest. Not that I can really stop you writing, but I want to hear it. Or read it. You know what I mean.
I understand your concerns; when my sister and I were newly raised to the throne, we too worried that we were not active enough, not doing enough to govern Equestria. But you cannot be afraid of delegation. In fact, I will go further and say that a ruler’s ability to delegate is a more potent weapon than any armies that she may possess – not least because even, or especially, an army cannot be run or maintained without that gift of delegation.
No ruler can administer all of the affairs of a kingdom, not even the smallest kingdom that was ever conceived of, and any ruler who tries will soon find themselves so enmired in trivialities that they will never accomplish anything. The trick is to recognise two things: first, what is important and what is not, because the less important a thing is, the more safely it can be left to others; second, the strengths and abilities of those who report to you, that you may delegate the more vital tasks to those who are better suited to deal with them.
Any advice on how I work those things out?
Celestia chuckled. I fear that that can only be learned from experience. Nevertheless, I will say that your endeavour is a wise one and speaks well to your character that you do not seek to hoard all power to yourself. I will give you one more piece of advice in dealing with councils: a ruler who listens is wiser than one who speaks; when in council, you should endeavour to say as little as possible, but to hear all the arguments that are made to you. Judge by the character of those who make the arguments, in part, but do not let that blind you to the wisdom and quality of the arguments themselves; an odious individual may yet make a sound point.
Listen to the arguments, okay, even if they come from Torchwick. Any other tips and tricks I should know about?
Learn all that you can about the realm you rule: about its rivers, its forests, its fields and townships, its natural resources and the numbers of its people, every scrap of knowledge that you can obtain. If you do not, your ignorance will be noted; it may be excused at present, on account of how new you are to the place and the people, but that excuse will not endure forever, and as it fails, so will ignorance undermine you.
So what you’re saying is that I should probably be working right now?
Ruling a realm is a hard duty, no matter how much you delegate, but it is important to find time for yourself, whenever possible, or why should I be here having tea with Sunset and Twilight when there is so much that demands my attention? If you neglect yourself, you will go mad, so by all means, take this respite while you can. And now, I will give you back to Sunset.
Once more, Sunset levitated the pen up in the grip of her magic and began to write with it. Sunset: So, busy busy, huh?
You have no idea. And it’s only been a couple of days! It’s not going to get any easier, is it? Actually, don’t answer that.
Sunset grinned. Okay then, I won’t. What do you have in mind to bring the tribes and clans to heel?
Apparently, there’s an old tradition amongst the clans, that they would gather at a place called Giant’s Round, where any lord or prince of their clan could summon a gathering, to discuss what to do when the Valish invaded or when the Mistralians came. Ember and Rutherford both think that I should call a gathering, like in the old days, or they’ll call one for me, and that will hopefully bring clans together and I can convince them to accept my rule.
Is that how the Sun Queen did it?
No, she got them on her side individually, but that would take longer, and besides, Ember says that the fact that the Sun Queen didn’t call a meeting at the Giant’s Round means that it has a word that I can’t remember but begins with L
Legitimacy?
Yeah, that’s the one; it has legitimacy. It wasn’t corrupted by her.
Then that sounds like a plan. Let me know if you need any help with your speech.
I’m going to have to make a speech?
How else did you expect to get them on your side?
I don’t know; I just hoped some other way than having to get up and talk in front of everyone.
Don’t sell yourself short; you’re very passionate.
That doesn’t mean I enjoy it. Anyway, what about you, how are things in Equestria?
Sunset glanced at her two companions. “Is it okay if I tell her, or will it seem like bragging?”
“It won’t seem like bragging unless you brag about it,” Twilight said. “And besides, I think she’ll want to know.”
Sunset took a breath. “Yes. Yes, you’re probably right.” I’m the Princess of Hope now, so they say. Or rather, I have been ever since I saved Cinder, probably, but I only just realised it now. With the help of three talented young children, I’ve come to understand myself a little better.
'Princess of Hope'? That sounds cool, but what does it mean?
Sunset thought for a moment about how best to explain it. What it means is a little hard to explain, but the basics of it is that spreading hope is my job. It’s what I am empowered to do, what I’m sent to do; it’s my task.
You know, when you put it like that, I can see it.
Sunset snorted. You’re not the first to say so.
When you wanted to, you could always make us feel braver, feel better, feel
Not always when I wanted to.
It took Ruby a moment to reply. No, I suppose not. But you could at Beacon, when things were good.
I suppose I did always have a clever tongue. And as I said, it fits with the other thing that I learned.
What’s that?
That I’m not the hero. I’m not the one who's going to save the day. I may have been your team leader, but I was the leader so that I could make you Queen of Freeport, so that I could make Pyrrha the Fall Maiden, so that I could help Blake get to Atlas. I’m the one who helps you achieve your greatness; I do not have it in myself.
I don’t know; helping other people sounds pretty great to me.
Sunset smiled. Thank you, Ruby; that means a lot, coming from you.
So you’re glad you went back there, then?
Sunset nodded, for all that Ruby couldn’t see it through the page. Yeah, I really am. And I’m not just saying that because Celestia and Twilight are right there. I really did need this. It’s made a lot of things clearer. Hey, Ruby, how do you think your people would react if they found out about Salem?
Why?
I’m considering whether we ought to tell the world the truth about her and about what’s going on?
Ruby did not reply at once. When she did reply, it was to write. If that was a good idea, don’t you think Professor Ozpin would have done it by now?
Maybe, but Professor Ozpin was so afraid of the consequences, maybe too afraid.
The consequences are real. People would panic. Remember how we reacted when we found out?
I know, and it’s a good point, but at the moment, it’s like we’re running just to stand still – and not even managing that. I just think it’s worth considering if there is another way. Don’t worry; I’m not going to spill the beans to everyone I come across. I just want to consider it, and to consult with you and Pyrrha and Professor Ozpin and General Ironwood, at least to make the suggestion.
I guess you’ve got a point as well. I suppose it is worth thinking about. I have to go now. It’s time to have a meeting about having a city council that can have meetings. But I’m glad you wrote. I’m really glad that we could have this talk. Speak again soon?
Definitely. Good luck out there. She closed the book with a sigh of relief. “That… that went…” She closed her eyes. “I’m glad.”
Twilight approached from the side and nuzzled at her with her snout. “No matter what troubles you and Ruby go through, she’ll never stop being your friend.”
“I guess so,” Sunset said, smiling a little. “I’ll just put the journal back; I won’t take a second.”
She teleported away again and again appeared inside her room.
The servant who had been there before was still there.
“Not quite finished yet?” Sunset asked.
He smiled at her. “Almost,” he said, “but not quite. Just a few loose ends that need… tidying up.”