The mid-morning sun glistened on the waves rolling in along the picturesque seafront of Silver Shoals. At the edge of town, set just off from the beach, stood a simple house. It was a bit larger than most in town, but not obtrusively so. Its location, along with the trees between it and the road, clearly afforded some additional privacy, while being close enough for the occupants to enjoy the town when they wished.
It was here, right next to the mailbox marked with sun and moon symbols, that Twilight appeared in a flash of purple magic. She smiled, seeing that nopony was around to note her arrival, and quickly trotted to the front door. Her magic reached out to ring the doorbell before she even arrived at the step, and the chime was answered by a familiar voice calling out, “Just a moment!”
The door opened and Celestia stepped out. Her usually-flowing mane was drawn back into a loose bun, and a flour-speckled apron covered her neck and chest. On seeing who was ringing the bell, a smile replaced her distracted look. “Twilight! What a wonderful surprise. I wasn’t expecting to see you for nearly a month.” She stepped forward, opening her wings for a hug, then wrinkled her brow. “Unless I got the date wrong. Our tea wasn't scheduled for today, was it?”
Twilight chuckled, stepping into the hug and embracing her mentor fondly. “No, Cover Page and Raven still have us scheduled for tea on the first of next month.” Pulling back from the hug she looked into Celestia’s eyes. “This is an unscheduled and informal visit.”
Celestia raised a brow, glancing out at the street. “I was wondering why I didn’t hear a pegasus chariot arriving.” She stepped back, gesturing for Twilight to enter. “And how long did it take you to convince your Guard Captain to not send along at least a couple guards?”
She sighed as she stepped into the house, shaking her head. “You would think my going to visit two of the most powerful ponies in Equestria would be enough for him. I don’t think I really appreciated how honest you were being when you told me how little freedom I would have to come and go once I ascended to the throne.” She giggled. “I, ah, eventually just teleported away. I expect there will be a guard platoon here before I leave. Sorry about that.”
Celestia laughed, closing the door behind her. “Do try to remember that he has the best of intentions, Twilight. It is his duty to keep you safe, after all.” She led the way back through the home toward the bright and sunny kitchen. “But also remember that, in the end, you are the monarch, and ultimately your decision is to be respected. It’s a fine balance.” She looked over into Twilight’s eyes. “But you already know that. You’ve become a fair and wise leader, and I’m still so proud of you.”
Twilight felt her cheeks reddening with a blush, stepping in to hug Celestia once more. “Thank you. I have a great mentor who showed me the way.”
They held the hug for several long moments before Celestia pulled away. She moved into the kitchen, floating the kettle over to the sink. “Please, make yourself at home, Twilight. I’ll have some tea ready shortly.” A teapot and cups floated out from a cabinet, and soon the kitchen was alive with ingredients and utensils dancing into position on the table by the large bay windows.
“You don’t need to go to any trouble,” Twilight said. She looked out the window at the sun climbing higher over the sea. “Is Luna home? I wanted to talk with her, as well.”
“It’s no trouble, and she’s still asleep,” Celestia said. A skillet and a mixing bowl joined the ballet of items floating through the kitchen in the aura of her magic, and soon a pancake was cooking on the stove next to the rapidly-heating kettle. “She still enjoys the nighttime and stays up until near dawn, then sleeps through the morning. I was just getting her breakfast ready when you rang. I can wake her if you want.”
“Oh, no, let her sleep.” Twilight smiled, watching a plate of cucumber sandwiches floating over to the table. “It’s important, but not urgent enough to get her out of bed. Besides, I’d like to talk with you alone for a while first.”
The kettle whistled, and moments later the fragrance of mint filled the kitchen. Celestia floated out the steaming teapot and cups, arranging them at the table. “I imagined it was something important when you arrived unannounced after ditching your protection detail.” She motioned to the chair with the best view through the window. “Have some tea and tell me about it. I think you’ll like this one, it’s a black tea with Abyssinian mint.”
Twilight sat at the table, glancing again to the sky before accepting an offered teacup with her magic. “It does smell delicious,” she admitted, taking a sip. “You’ve always had the best teas, even when I was a star-struck filly just starting under your instruction all those years ago. I remember the first time you had me for tea like it was yesterday. I can almost taste the–”
“Twilight?”
She stopped talking, looking to her host, “Yes, Celestia?”
“What do you want to ask me about the sun?”
Twilight stared at her, mouth agape. “How did you know?” she managed to ask after a moment of stunned silence.
Celestia smiled, taking a sip from her own cup. “You have a habit of rambling when something important is on your mind, and you haven’t taken your eyes off it since you came into the room.” She floated a sandwich to Twilight’s plate. “Add to that the fact there are very few topics where you don’t already know more than I do, and it’s easy to guess.”
She chuckled, nodding her head. After a sip of tea to settle her thoughts once again, she added, “I sincerely hope you can help with this. It has me stumped, along with Sunburst and every wizard in my court.”
Celestia bowed her head slightly, already floating a sandwich up for a bite. “I’ll do everything in my power to help, Twilight.”
Twilight took another look out the window, peering at the sun as it climbed toward its apex. “For over three weeks now, at every dawn and dusk, the sun or the moon have just stopped. Sometimes it’s just for a few moments, but this morning it took nearly fifteen minutes to get them moving again.” She looked back to Celestia. “I’ve had every possibility I can think of checked. My magic, the amulet, powerful magical phenomena— nothing appears to be out of sorts, they just stop.” She sighed, lowering her head. “I couldn’t think of anypony else who might have some insight into this problem. Could it be that something is wrong with the sun and moon themselves? How could we even check that?”
Celestia listened quietly as Twilight spoke, nodding in understanding. After a sip of her tea, she glanced out at the sun, a hint of a smile pulling at the corner of her mouth. “I was afraid this might happen,” she said. “I just didn’t think it would happen for decades, maybe centuries, to come.”
Twilight’s eyes widened in surprise. “Then you know what’s happening? Wait, did you say you expected it to happen, and you didn’t say anything?”
Celestia shook her head. “I said I feared it might happen someday, not that I expected it. My hope was that the bit of Luna’s and my magic in the amulet would be enough, but it appears that’s not the case.”
Twilight stood, pacing along the windows as she listened. “Celestia, what did you fear would happen?”
She glanced out the window again, weighing her words. “I suppose there’s no other way to put it. The sun and moon are– bored.”
Twilight stared at her, mouth dropping open again. “They’re bored?”
“For lack of a better term, yes.”
She shook her head, trying to bring the concept into focus. “Wait, the sun can get bored?” A thought brought her head up sharply. “Are you saying the sun and moon are alive?”
Celestia laughed and shook her head. “No, Twilight. Not alive in the sense that ponies and other creatures are alive. I’m saying that the sun and moon each have a will of their own.”
“How is that different from being alive?”
“They are not discrete beings like you or I. They are primordial forces of nature that have existed longer than any living species in our world. They are like the weather of the frozen north or the wild heart of the Everfree Forest: left unchecked, they do as they will— sometimes to the detriment of ponykind.” Celestia tilted her head. “How much do you know about how the sun and moon were moved in the time before Luna and I took control of the process?”
Twilight raised a brow. “Ah, as much as anypony, really. The unicorns raised and lowered them and bartered that service for food from the earth ponies. The process was so strenuous that six of the unicorns involved would lose their magic.”
Celestia nodded. “That’s the official story, and it’s true, as far as it goes. But let me ask you a question that’s been quietly discouraged from being asked in our schools. How did the sun and the moon move before the unicorns started moving them?”
She frowned, thinking through the question. “I, um, I never really thought about that. I just sort of assumed there were always unicorns moving them.” She looked to Celestia again. “Why would you discourage ponies from exploring this? If it was known we would have a deeper understanding of the world around us.”
“We would, indeed,” Celestia said. “But this particular line of thought might lead to the true nature of the sun and the moon becoming common knowledge. That information could become dangerous if some creature with powerful magic learns the secrets of manipulating the sun and the moon. Can you imagine what might have happened if Tirek had such power? Or Chrysalis?” She sighed, lifting her teacup. “We created the restricted section of the archives for a reason. Not all dangers come from magical artifacts or adversaries. Sometimes the right thought reaching the wrong ear has the potential to topple everything we’ve built.”
Twilight pondered her words for a moment. With a sigh she sat back down at the table. “Alright, I can understand your reasoning, even if I don’t fully agree. That’s a discussion for another time, though. What was it you were saying about the time before the unicorns started controlling the sun?”
She nodded. “Before the unicorns learned how to manipulate the sun and moon with magic, the world was a much more chaotic place. And before you ask, no, it doesn’t appear to have been directly related to Discord’s influence. He simply reveled in the effects. This was before his attempt to take over Equestria, as it was long before the founding of Equestria.” Taking a deep breath, she continued. “As far as we could determine, since this was before my lifetime, or even Starswirl’s, the sun and moon moved as they wished, freely and erratically. Days and nights lasted for minutes, hours, or months by our reckoning, never the same duration twice. Tides were inconsistent and eclipses darkened the land.”
“But that’s not possible,” Twilight interrupted. “How could plants grow without consistent day and night cycles? How would any creature survive?”
“Many didn’t, and those that did never thrived. The only things that lived either cooperated successfully, like the early ponies did, or preyed upon anything they could catch. It was a terrible and violent time in our world.” She paused long enough to take a bite of her sandwich, gesturing for Twilight to do the same. “For all the struggles of that time, something good did come of it: ponies learned to tap into the power of magic in order to survive. Those who used magic to encourage the growth of crops became earth ponies. Those who first learned the secrets of flight and started discovering how to modify the weather became pegasi. But the ones who delved into the nature of magic itself became unicorns. It took them quite some time, but eventually they learned to control the sun and moon, and that is when true civilization became possible.”
Twilight listened intently, absently nibbling on her second sandwich. “Wait, you say they ‘became’ unicorns. What were they before they harnessed magic?”
Celestia looked her in the eye, the corners of her mouth curling in a soft smile. “Alicorns.”
For a long moment the only sound was the distant waves rolling over the shore.
Twilight calmly floated the remains of her sandwich to her plate, lifting a napkin and cleaning the corners of her mouth. Setting it down, she took a deep breath. “Excuse me, what was that you said?”
Celestia kept herself from laughing, nodding her head. “The early ponies who discovered magic were all alicorns, Twilight. The archeological records are in the prehistory room of the restricted archives. After you review it, I think even you will agree the evidence is quite conclusive.”
She shook her head, frowning. "That doesn't make sense! Alicorns are amalgams of all three pony types, who gain that state through some great feat of magic."
"It would be more accurate to say that the three types of pony are aspects of alicorn nature, Twilight.” She chuckled at the pained expression Twilight made in response. “But you are correct, that is the official stance on the matter, and I would suggest it remain so.”
Twilight raised her hooves to her forehead, rubbing her temples to soothe the growing headache. “But why would that be dangerous for ponies to know? It would expand our knowledge of our origins. It could even inspire ponies to know they are descended from alicorns!”
Celestia raised a brow. “And if they realize that all it takes to return to their ancestral form is a sufficiently large infusion of magic, rather than earning it through great and selfless work serving their fellow ponies as they believe now?” She sipped her tea. “We’ve already seen what happened when one unscrupulous filly achieved such a feat.”
“Cozy Glow.” Twilight sat back with a sigh. “Alright, I see why you decided to keep it a secret, but we are going to talk about it more later on. I need to know how to access the rest of the restricted section if nothing else.” She glanced up at the sky once more. “We have more urgent matters to discuss at the moment, though. You said it wasn’t until the early uni- the early alicorns learned to control the sun and moon that civilization started. How long ago was that?”
Celestia nodded. “Many thousands of years. The exact figure is lost to time, but we know numerous civilizations rose and fell over the millennia as the ponies grew more physically distinct from one another. Through it all, the ponies then called unicorns maintained guiding the sun and moon as their highest duty.” She paused. “Now Twilight, I have a question for you. If six unicorns lost their magic every time the sun was raised, could the unicorn population have really sustained such losses for so many centuries?”
Twilight frowned, running the numbers in her mind. “Of course not,” she murmured. “There would have had to have been astronomical numbers of unicorns with no magic wandering the land if that were the case, and trillions of unicorns in total over the years. Far more than our land could ever support.” She looked up to see Celestia nodding with a knowing smile on her lips. “So the unicorns losing their magic from raising the sun was a lie, too?”
“No, that actually happened toward the end, for a few months before Luna and I took control of the process. It just didn’t happen for long.” Celestia refilled her cup, and Twilight’s, as she spoke. “The oldest records Starswirl found of the process initially described only one sorcerer being needed to raise the sun. In later centuries a pair of sorcerers were described, then three, and four. For some reason that the sorcerers of the time didn’t understand, the process kept getting more difficult to complete, requiring more and more magical energy. The changes were gradual, and each generation just got used to how things were for them, to the point that they assumed that it was always that way.”
“I can’t believe nopony ever thought to investigate the matter.” Twilight took the cup Celestia floated to her, sipping from it. “If it was getting so bad, somepony should have written about it.”
“Oh, they did,” Celestia said. “But those who did were speaking against tradition at that point. Many ponies became invested in maintaining the world as it was, and those who threatened that stability were silenced. It wasn’t until Starswirl noticed the effort needed was increasing rapidly that anything was done, and even then he had to work in secret. He tried recruiting more sorcerers to help, but found it was too difficult to synchronize the magic of more than six other ponies with his own. It wasn’t until he recruited us into the effort that the reason for the difficulty was found.”
Twilight leaned in, eyes wide, as Celestia took a long sip from her tea. “What was it? What was the reason?”
Celestia took a deep breath, looking up at the sun. “They were doing it wrong.” She turned back to Twilight. “Over the years the methods of the original alicorns were forgotten, and the unicorns who followed turned to sheer magical force to make up the difference. That was why the cost to them became so great by the end.”
“I thought that was how it worked, as well, and you and Luna were just that much more powerful than a typical unicorn.” Twilight frowned. “Is that why I had so much trouble raising the sun when I had your power?”
Celestia nodded. “That was part of it, Twilight. With the magic of four alicorns you likely overwhelmed the sun’s will, which is why it moved so erratically. When you had trouble with the amulet the first time you used it, the sun and moon simply raised and lowered from their correct positions, if you recall.”
She blushed slightly at the memory. “I still feel a little guilty for interrupting your vacation.”
Celestia laughed. “Nonsense. As I told you then, Luna and I were pretty well done with our recreation when it happened. We truly overscheduled that trip.”
“So how did you gain control of the sun if not through magical force?”
She looked at the sun again. “When I first touched the sun with my magic, I felt its annoyance and frustration at the brute force of the unicorns. Those are the only terms that seemed right for the sensations even without a consciousness behind them. So I stopped Starswirl and the others then reached out to it again.”
“What was it like?”
“Cautious at first. It took some time to soothe it and gain its trust, but once I did it felt playful, even mischievous. So I played with it, I laughed with it, and soon it was happy to comply and start the day.”
“I found the moon to be more coy and changeable,” called a voice from the doorway. They both looked over and saw Luna leaning against the door, a dark blue robe wrapped around her shoulders. Her flowing, starry hair stuck out in all directions like a disheveled nebula. “Persuading it to cooperate felt more like a seduction than play.”
“Good morning, sister,” Celestia said with a smile. “There’s a stack of pancakes waiting for you by the stove.”
“Luna!” Twilight stood, starting toward her when Luna held up a hoof, gesturing for her to stay put. “I hope we didn’t wake you.”
“Not at all, Twilight Sparkle. This is close to the normal start of my day. I suspected I might find you here when I saw the squad of guards establishing a perimeter around the yard through my window.” Luna stepped into the kitchen, floating her breakfast to the counter closest to the pair. A moment later she claimed a teacup, filling it from their pot and bringing it to her. “I assume we have the recent hiccups in dawn and dusk to thank for your visit.”
Twilight nodded, taking her seat again. “I hope it’s not too much of an intrusion.”
“Not at all,” Luna said briskly before starting in on the pancakes.
“I was just filling Twilight in on some of the history we kept from general knowledge in relation to the sun and moon.” Celestia floated a bowl of strawberries over to Luna.
“Mmm, good,” Luna said around a mouthful before swallowing. “I slept through the boring part.” She took another bite while Celestia and Twilight stared at her incredulously. “What? I already know it, and I know you are far better at telling it, sister. There is nothing significant I could have added. Better for the two of you to cover it.”
Twilight and Celestia exchanged a look, laughing softly. “Alright, Luna,” Twilight said. “I assume your comment means we’re at the ‘good part’ now. I’d welcome any insight you have about how I can get the sun and moon to cooperate with the amulet.”
Luna raised a brow, slowly chewing a strawberry before replying. “That’s simple. You cannot get the sun and moon to cooperate with the amulet now that they have started to reject it.”
Twilight waited for more, but Luna simply took another bite of her breakfast. She looked to Celestia who nodded. “I’m afraid it’s true, Twilight. The amulet’s true purpose was to convince both sun and moon that my sister and I were still the ones directing them. As they are resisting the amulet’s magic, it’s clear they have sensed it is not us. The sun has always related to me better than any other, and Luna’s relationship to the moon is unique.”
“Unique?”
Luna nodded. “The sensation I’ve always had is that the moon sees me as a lover, as it were. Not in a physical sense, of course, but more of a romantic pursuit.”
“By contrast,” Celestia added, “I never experienced anything like that from the moon when I took care of both of them. The moon always seemed strangely acquiescent, almost eager to move compared to the sun. I’m afraid the experience is part of the reason I underestimated Luna’s nightly duties for so long.”
Luna chuckled, shaking her head. “Have you truly never figured out the reason why that was, sister?” Getting only a raised brow in response, she continued. “The moon was content when you were raising it because I was imprisoned inside the moon during my exile. She had her lover there with her the whole time. I’m surprised you had to guide her at all apart from reminding her to move.”
Celestia’s eyes grew wide. “I never considered that your exile was such an— intimate experience, Luna. Were you aware of the moon while you were imprisoned?”
She nodded. “While I was still dominated by the darkness of Nightmare Moon, I was focused on rage and vengeance. We’ve seen in Chrysalis how such feelings can affect one’s sanity when maintained over time. The moon’s presence was a soothing balm to my psyche, repairing what Nightmare Moon damaged. I’m not certain I could have survived the centuries without that respite and—” She glanced down at her teacup, a hint of blush coloring her cheek.
Twilight looked to Celestia, who tilted her head toward Luna. “And what else, Luna?”
Luna stepped around the counter, reaching up to rub the back over her neck. “And, um, without your lullabies.” She glanced up to Celestia, smiling.
Celestia gasped, tears welling up in her eyes. “I never imagined you heard me singing to you for all those centuries.”
Luna nodded, tears forming in her eyes now. “You sang them while connecting with the moon, and she made sure I heard them.”
Celestia stood quickly and pulled Luna into a close hug. “I love you, sister.”
Luna nuzzled into Celestia’s embrace. “I love you, too, sister.”
Twilight wiped a few tears from her own eyes, smiling warmly at the display.
After a few moments, Celestia pulled away, floating a napkin up to dry the tears from her cheeks. “We’ll have to talk more about this later. Right now Twilight needs our help.”
Luna wiped her eyes. She raised a brow and looked at Twilight. “Indeed. Although I thought her next course of action was already clear. Apart from advice and guidance, there is little more we can do to help.”
Twilight’s smile faded. She looked from Luna to Celestia. “I don’t understand. What do you mean my next actions are clear? What are you saying I should do?”
Celestia stepped closer to Twilight, nodding. “I must agree with Luna. We’re happy to help and guide you, but the next step is up to you. I know you’re ready for it, Twilight.”
Twilight stood, pacing in front of them. “Ready for what? You told me about ponies descending from alicorns and the sun and moon having wills of their own and the unicorns controlling them wrong and the sun being playful and the moon being a lover. What is it you think I need to do now?”
Celestia reached out to stop Twilight’s pacing, turning her to face them. She smiled.
“It’s time for you to raise the sun and moon without the amulet, Twilight.”