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// Lux Æterna 
// Story: Sol 
// by Equimorto 
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Celestia contemplated the Sun. It was not something unusual for her to do. It was half the job that came with her title, after all, and though the other half was arguably more important there was something to be said about the importance of something that existed for so long unchanged. Nor did she ever grow tired of contemplating it, as it was rather more than large enough for boredom to not be a concern. Some of her subjects joked her posterior took after it in that regard. She had yet to see any of them go blind, however.

Celestia wouldn't go blind staring directly at the Sun. Perks of the title and all. She could stare, and unlike her ponies, she could see it. Well. See it for more than a scant few seconds once, that's what made her different. She could see it long enough to really take it in. More than that, through her connection to it, she could feel it. She could sense it, in all its size, all its weight, even as moving it came effortlessly to her. Celestia had come to believe the Sun obeyed her out of politeness, not because of her strength.

She'd met another who could stare at the Sun. She'd had long talks with the former Dragon Lord, back in the day. His knowledge on the matter was far deeper than that of any other creature she'd ever met. And yet, eventually, it too had reached its end. Eventually, he too would be outlived by the Sun.

Celestia sipped her tea. It was too hot, but she didn't feel it. She was focused on something far hotter, something far more powerful than anything born of her subjects' ingenuity could compare to. She liked to contemplate the Sun, whenever she had some time alone to herself, whenever she didn't feel like occupying that time with a different hobby of hers.

It was an experience humbling and exhilarating at once. She was so tiny compared to the Sun. All of them were. The entirety of Equestria, with all its history, lives, and problems, it would take just a second to turn it all to ash. And yet she was the one who could do it. She wouldn't, of course. Cake tasted far too good to pass up, and anything bad tended to be over in a few generations at most.

Celestia liked to contemplate the Sun, because she never felt like she was anywhere near done. She'd once tried, and occasionally would again, to perceive it all at once. In Luna's absence she had taken to doing so when sleep wouldn't come, and it did wonders to exhaust her mind in just a few moments. On calmer days like that one, she preferred to scan its surface bit by bit, at a more measured pace. Eternity bred complacency, after all.

She was looking at an area about as big as Canterlot itself at that moment. Ever shifting, blindingly bright, pouring heat and other unseen energies that would bring anything in Equestria to the brink of death if not past it in just an instant. Save Discord, perhaps. Celestia had wondered often if he felt in any way like she did. After his change of heart, she'd even dared to ask. He'd laughed then, and for the only time in her life even the part of her that saw no difference between itself and the Sun had known fear.

But she wasn't thinking about that, that morning. Instead, she let her perception lazily drift aside, consistent in its direction yet without a frame of reference for it. Up and down were such silly concepts after all. There, the outer edge of an irregularity in the Sun's surface, a colder area still incomprehensibly hot for any average pony. Its size, Celestia knew, dwarfed that of her country.

Was it not the Sun she ruled over? Celestia asked herself that many times. Every time she gave the same answer. She was still a pony in the end. It was proper of her to care for her kin. Besides, the Sun did not speak, and much as she enjoyed her time alone she knew she liked to hold a conversation when the chance for a good one presented itself. And all that heat would char any cake.

Ruling did not mean coexisting. Yes, there it was. That third option. As much as she answered negatively to it, it would not leave her. It would never leave her. It was part of her. Because to behold the Sun was to see something too great for comprehension, and knowing she could control it, even if she couldn't understand it, would always leave her tempted. Perhaps it was for the best that she couldn't perceive it whole.

Ponies and most other creatures, Celestia had found, were a lot more like the Sun than they thought themselves to be. Those worth entertaining, at least. Few things upset her as much as a mind so utterly dedicated to a single goal it flattened itself over in pursuit of it. None had hurt as much as being the cause of that.

Things were better on that day though. Things had been better for a while, actually. As relative as the term could be to one as old as she was. Was it right to calls several years a short while? She was never sure. She never got better at staying with her head down to earth, but in fairness she didn't get worse. She was as she'd always been, balancing herself between one and the other end. But yes, things had been going well. Her subjects were cared for, her country was safe, and she'd even dare say she felt happy.

And the Sun was still the Sun. It wouldn't change just because she stared at it a few minutes, and it wouldn't change her. But she liked doing it. She did so a bit longer, as rain poured heavy over Canterlot.