“Congratulations, Princess,” said Celestia with a gentle smile.
The newly crowned Princess Cadance looked bashfully up at her new “Auntie.” It was so surreal, being in the presence of Princess Celestia herself. And yet, here she was, standing before the ruler of Equestria. As her equal, no less.
Well, equal in title, at least.
“Now, as we both know, you’re still too young to take on any government responsibilities. You are still a highschool student after all, and I most certainly wouldn’t want to distract you from your studies. In fact, the only immediate matter you need to concern yourself with is the magic tutor I’m appointing to you. I’m afraid we cannot delay teaching you how to use that new horn of yours,” said Celestia.
Cadance nodded. She already knew this, of course. She’d seen far too many magical surges in young fillies and colts to treat magic with anything other than the utmost respect. It was honestly somewhat terrifying that she now had such power attached to her forehead, likely even more than she realized. Lessons on the subject were more than welcome.
“We’ll work out what role you will play in our nation’s future once you are older. In the meantime, I strongly encourage you to seek out responsibilities suitable for a pony your age. You have earned that crown that now rests on your head, but there is far more to being a Princess than smiling and waving. I’d recommend babysitting, or perhaps tutoring,” said Celestia.
“Oh, that won’t be an issue. I’m already babysitting this cute little filly named Twilight Sparkle. I can’t help but imagine what she’ll say when she learns her babysitter is a Princess now,” said Cadance with a giggle.
“Yet another sign that you truly are fit for the title. However, there is one unfortunate matter I must warn you about that will come with your ascension,” said Celestia.
Cadance stood to attention.
“There will inevitably be ponies who will come to delude themselves into believing that you are a goddess. It will likely be a week or so before they approach you, but they will most certainly come. And when they do, they will no doubt cause you all sorts of misery,” said Celestia.
Cadance raised an eyebrow in confusion, but then realized what Celestia was referring to. A sudden sense of dread ran through her body.
“Wait, are you talking about the Solar Witnesses?” asked Cadance.
“Yes. I hope I do not need to elaborate on why I am… less than delighted at the group’s activities,” said Celestia.
Cadance winced, but nodded. She’d ended up on the wrong end of those fanatic's activities before. She still had nightmares about the time she’d been forced to…
No! No, she was not letting her thoughts wander to that incident again. The one during last Hearth’s Warming. Why did such a cute filly (and even cuter colt) have to have such crazy parents?
“So, as it stands we are in a unique situation. We know that this new cult is surely forming, and it is still in its infancy. While preventing these fanatics from grouping together may be impossible, I was hoping we could try and come up with a way to ensure that they do not devolve into another mob of overzealous worshipers,” said Celestia.
Cadance nodded.
“Yes, I think that’d be a good plan. I don’t suppose you have any ideas we could try?” she asked.
“Sadly, no. I never put together a plan for this as I never expected there to be another ascension until after… certain events in the future, but I do have some pitfalls I can warn you about. First, and most importantly, never tell them what your favorite food is,” said Celesia.
“Um… OK? I mean, I can easily imagine why that’d be a bad idea, but why is that the most important pitfall?” asked Cadance.
“Because when the Solar Witnesses first learned about my love of cake, the resulting chaos forced me to ban it for four generations. Those were the hardest years of my rule, and I wouldn’t wish such misery on anypony,” said Celestia with a shiver.
Cadance, while familiar with the monarch’s love of cake, couldn’t help but feel that maybe Celestia’s priorities were a little skewed. But then again, this was the Solar Witnesses they were talking about. Sanity wasn’t exactly the most relevant factor when dealing with them.
“Second, never publicly declare your favorite song. You will, inevitably, end up hating it as a result. Third, never, and I mean never, accept an invitation to any cult-sponsored event. Even if it’s opening an orphanage or something equally admirable, you must not attend. If you do, not only will said orphanage end up destroyed, but the cult will gain new members and become hyper active for a decade. I really wish I’d figured that one out before I did it for the sixth time. The city of Ploughsburgh might still be standing. Fourth…” continued Celestia.
Yep. Sanity is definitely not going to help here, though Cadance as that terrible sense of dread continued to weld up within her.
Once she’d gotten out some paper and started jotting down ideas, Cadance had started to feel a spark of hope. Surely, somewhere in this list of possibilities there had to be a solution. And indeed, many of her ideas seemed very reasonable.
Until it occurred to her that just because a plan was logical didn’t mean it would work on these fanatics. And when she tried to get in the mindset of ponies who’d convinced themselves that she was a goddess, she realized just how bucked she was.
Vow to imprison anypony who harms another in my name? I’d have to make sure to hammer it home that this is to be a punishment, not some “divine test” or “purification” ceremony. And then…. No. No, that wouldn’t work. They’d just claim it’s some kind of divine plan of mine and start forcing others to break the law so that I’ll have an excuse to “enlighten” them, thought Cadance.
She crumpled up the paper and tossed it in the trash. Or at least, she tried to. At this point, the trashcan was so overflowing that the paper not only bounced out, but it failed to reach the floor afterwards.
Declare my domain, whatever that ends up being, off limits to common ponies? Celestia did mention that it’ll likely be something tied to emotion, considering what I did to ascend and… no. This is possibly the worst idea of the lot. What if my domain winds up being something like love? The cult would probably just focus on snuffing it out entirely in my name, despite it being the very thing I rule over, thought Cadance.
Another crumbled paper, another tossed idea. Cadance let out a groan and slammed her head on her desk. She’d been at this for days now, and seemed to have gotten absolutely nowhere.
This is ridiculous! How the buck do you reach ponies so blindly devoted like this? The more reasonable and practical a plan I create, the easier it is for me to see how it could be twisted into overzealous destruction! And that’s when I’m taking Celestia’s warnings into account! Even that rule about oranges! I can’t even imagine how… Cadence thought before a terrifying image popped into her head.
Oh. Now I can. And I dearly wish I couldn’t. Ugh… I am way too young to be dealing with this, thought Cadance.
…
Wait a minute… I am young. I think I might be able to use that…
Cadance gulped as she looked at the gathered ponies. When a very poorly-disguised letter had arrived in her mailbox, inviting her to a “great revelation,” she figured she was ready. She’d thought she had a plan. But it was clear she’d underestimated just how many ponies would start worshiping her, and how quickly they’d be able to organize themselves.
Even if she hadn’t already experienced a few run-ins with the Solar Witnesses, she’d recognize these ponies as praise-obsessed zealots. The overly-orient cloaks, the near constant prayers under their breaths, the massive signs saying “hail to our new goddess;” it all stank of blind obsession. True, the bright pink cloaks made it a little challenging to take them seriously, but it was apparent that, if left to their own devices, there would soon be another cult running around causing trouble.
Cadance prayed to Faust above that this plan worked. She took a deep breath, braced herself, and stepped out onto the platform.
If she had been hoping they’d quiet down when she made her appearance, she’d have been disappointed. (Un)fortunately, she had not been hoping for that, so things proceeded exactly as she anticipated.
“Hail to our Lady of Pink! Hail to the new Mistress of Equestria! Hail to our Virgin Princess!” They cried.
Cadence held back a sigh, but it was a close call. Virgin Princess? Really? Sure, they weren’t suggesting a teenager was a goddess of “affection,” offering to form a harem for her, or something equally disturbing, but still. They didn’t even know if she had a coltfriend or not. Why in Equestria would they…
Oh, right. Tip thirty-four: the cult will, in some manner, attempt to associate you with a certain subject. Cadence had really been hoping Celestia had been joking about that one.
“Ahem. May I have your attention please?” asked Cadance.
The crowd continued to sing her praise, bow, and mostly just ignore the pony they were supposedly giving reverence to. Cadance was neither impressed nor amused.
“Excuse me?” asked Cadance.
“Blessed be our new goddess!” cried the crowd.
Welp, this is off to a great start. How long do I have before they start blowing stuff up? thought Cadance.
BOOM!
The room grew silent as everypony turned to look at the noise. Luckily, it wasn’t an actual explosion. Rather, a stallion in the back had just opened an unusually loud party popper. Even Cadance found herself staring at the interruption.
Is this a sign of a sane individual in the room? She pondered.
“The goddess speaks! Listen up, you fools!” cried the stallion.
Right. Knew it was too good to be true. Still, at least I can start now, thought Cadance.
“Er… thank you, sir. Now, while I’m certain many of you are quite eager to give me a fair amount of praise and honor, there is something I want you all to be aware of before you start putting together any… festives, shall we say,” declared Cadance.
“Is it true then? You plan to lead us to victory against the old goddess and usher in a new golden age?” called a voice from the crowd.
An uncomfortably large section of the crowd cheered at the idea.
“Er… I’m not sure what grievance you might have with my ‘Aunt’ to inspire such ideas, but that’s not what I want to discuss,” admitted Cadance.
Judging from the looks of anticipation, the crowd had added an unspoken “yet” to the end of her sentence. This would not be the last she’d hear of the idea. Still, this led right into her plan. Time to give it a shot and hope for the best.
“Now, I’m not going to try and claim that I’m just a normal filly (mostly because I know you’d ignore me), but I want to make it absolutely clear that I am not fully a goddess yet,” declared Cadance, taking care to emphasize the last word.
This sent a ripple of confusion through the crowd, but Cadance held up a hoof and continued speaking.
“Celestia explained to me that the ascension process is far longer than the moment this horn appeared on my head. I have a lot of growing to do, and my power is far from fully realized. You may call me a goddess in the future (because you will no matter what I say), but for now, I am merely a pony with great power that is slowly growing greater. I am not a goddess. Not yet,” explained Cadance.
It was all nonsense, of course. She was a full blown alicorn, teenager or not. And it went without saying that she would never become a goddess. The trick here was convincing her worshipers that she wasn’t quite divine yet. That way, while they would still be singing her praise, they’d have to calm down and wait until she declared herself fully grown before they’d outright worship her. And if she could convince them that it took generations to fully ascend, then she might just be able to keep them in control indefinitely.
Or so Cadance hoped. She knew it was a long shot. But as Cadance watched, the crowd seemed to lose a fair bit of energy. The banners were taken down, the robes were put away, and it appeared as if the ponies in front of her were finally calming down. Cadance let out a sigh of relief. The plan seemed to be working. Even these fanatics couldn’t think of a way to spin this into destructive worshiping.
Day 1:
An unauthorized celebration reduces a local pub to tinder. No sign of the Solar Witnesses, even though the destruction points toward their typical overzealous devotion.
Day 5:
Sudden widespread purchases and thefts of sleeping potions catches the market by surprise. Canterlot citizens with sleeping disorders unable to acquire their prescriptions.
Day 9:
Noise complaints led to the arrest of a small group of ponies who were chanting a made up ritual. They claim they were ‘accelerating the ascension.’
Day 15:
A wave of graffiti sweeps the city, mostly using pink paint. It is easily removed, but is replaced almost every day afterwards.
Day 21:
Cadance ran as fast as her hooves could carry her, charging through the castle in a desperate attempt to reach Princess Celestia before it was too late.
I can’t believe this! How could I have failed to see this coming?! This is bad, this is so bad… thought Cadance in a blind panic as she raced forward.
Finally, she reached the doors of Celestia’s office, and charged in. There was Celestia, drinking a cup of bitter tea, and looking rather fed up with the world.
“Ah, Cadance. Any luck with your cult? I was just informed that mine has started a campaign to expunge non-ponies from Canterlot because they are ‘unworthy of my presence.’ As if our relationships with other nations aren’t poor enough as is,” grumbled the solar Princess.
It must have been her newly acquired Earth Pony strength that enabled Cadance to speak without catching her breath first. That, or her utter desperation.
“They… they’ve poisoned the Canterlot water supply with some kind of sleeping potion! They’re trying to put all of Equestria into a coma until I ‘ascend!’ we have to warn the population, get outside sources of water and…” siad Cadance.
Celestia just held up a hoof, reached down, and pulled a large lever.
“There. Problem solved. And I must say, a sleeping potion is far less horrifying than a hallucination potion known to cause brain damage. And I’m rather surprised it took them almost a month before their first attempt to target Canterlot’s water supply. If memory serves, the Solar Witnesses poisoned the local wells within two weeks of assemblance,” commented Celestia.
Cadance could only stand and stare at her fellow Princess. She was relieved that the problem had been resolved but the sheer indifference before her was unnerving and filled her with a sense of doom.
“At this point, I think it safe to say that your efforts to curb your cult have not been entirely successful, but also not completely futile. Which is more than I can say about mine. I had hoped for better, but anticipated worse. A fair enough performance considering your inexperience, and how impossible these ponies are to deal with, Princess Cadance,” said Celestia as she sipped her tea.
“Is this my life now? Am I doomed to live in constant dread because a cult is going to keep doing horrible things to others in my name?” asked Cadance.
“I dunno. Sounds a lot like the lives of most ponies in Equestria. You’ve met my parents, Candace. You know how they get when it comes to ‘divine’ matters. The Solar Witnesses are a threat to everypony, not just Celestia,” countered Shining Armor.
Cadance just let out a sigh and let her head fall back on the couch.
“I mean, it could be worse. It’s been three months, and your cult has only blown up a single building. It looks like these ‘Pink Prasiers,’ or whatever they end up calling themselves, are mostly just praying to you in private. Far less destructive than the Solar Witnesses,” reassured Shining Armor.
“Four attempts to put all of Canterlot to sleep for centuries, twelve attempts to break into the Starswirl wing for a time spell, and no less than forty attempts at still-only-theoretical suspension magic. They’re causing more than enough problems to be worried about them. And that’s not counting that group that tried to freeze themselves,” countered Cadance.
“Still better than anything my parents came up with. I still get nightmares about that ‘sun blood’ idea they had a few years back,” said Shining Armor with a shiver.
“That reminds me. Why do your parents still hire me to babysit? I mean, I’m grateful that they do, but wouldn’t my mere existence be a threat to their beliefs?” asked Cadance.
“Eh, I think they’re going with a ‘keep an eye on you’ approach on account that you’re not a goddess yet. I think they might have sent a spy or two into your meeting. By the way, you might want to make absolutely sure that nopony ever thinks you’ve truly ascended, or they’ll probably try to poison you during dinner,” said Shining Armor.
“Considering their love of toxic hallucinogens, I think that’s likely to happen anyway,” said Cadance as she let out another sigh.
Yes, it appeared that this was indeed her life now.