“You’re absolutely sure about this, Celestia?”
Celestia sighed, “For the hundredth time, Luna, yes. I am sure.”
Luna frowned, pursing her lips as Celestia brought her teacup to her mouth once again, a letter laid out before her on a mahogany table. She could just make out the words ‘Dear Princess Celestia’ on the top. She looked back up at her sister.
“You know I trust you, Celly?”
“So you say,” Celestia replied sourly, “And yet here we are.”
Luna ignored the barb, continuing, “You know as well as I that Silverhoof will have seen this.” She paused, waiting for any sign that Celestia had understood the implications. After no such sign presented itself, she continued, “You know that he’s going to take a personal interest now.”
“I am perfectly aware of that, Luna,” Celestia replied evenly, taking another sip from the teacup.
“Then you know that he has something planned!” Luna exclaimed, suddenly angry at her sister’s indifference. “He’s going to do something to Twilight Sparkle, I’m sure of it.”
“Not if Trail Blazer has anything to do with it,” Celestia replied confidently, still carefully ignoring the anger about her sister.
“You place far too much confidence in that pony,” Luna replied derisively. “He’s getting old Celestia, you can’t deny that. Sooner or later, he’s going to let something slip, and I have a feeling that it will be your student.”
“Maybe so,” Celestia conceded, “but he’s never let me down yet, and should the worst come to the worst I’m sure that Twilight will figure a way out. She, just like Trail, has never let me down yet.” She lifted her teacup again.
Infuriated by her sister’s continued lack of emotion, Luna slapped the teacup from within Celestia’s grasp, sending it towards the wall where it shattered explosively, spilling the liquid on the stones below.
“I was enjoying that,” Celestia said coolly before she fixed her gaze on Luna. “You say that you trust me, would it kill you to practice what you preach? I know my student and my agent, Luna, and I have the utmost faith in both of them.”
Luna’s eyes flashed momentarily, glinting in the early moonlight, “I wish I could share your faith, sister, but this is absurd. Neither you, nor I, can enter the fray without causing an uproar. You are putting your faith in your student whom you haven’t seen for years and an aged pony with little-to-no control over his subordinates.”
“He gave us this, did he not?” Celestia reasoned, levitating the letter between them.
Luna snorted, “And late is the hour in which the herald returns? Surely it would have been no feat of strength to send this sooner?”
Celestia shrugged, looking away from Luna and sighing deeply, “Perhaps, perhaps not. It is useless to dwell on the past, Luna; you know where that road has led before.”
“At least Nightmare Moon would have done something,” Luna shot back, “Say what you want about her, but if an ally of Nightmare Moon came under threat, that threat would have been removed immediately.”
“Nightmare Moon did not have any allies, Luna.” Celestia focussed on the teacup, smashed upon the floor. “And I daresay you underestimate my student.”
“And if you are overestimating her?” Luna countered.
“Then we will have both learnt an important lesson here.” The fragments of the teacups rose into the air, spinning slowly.
“That’s what this is?” Luna asked incredulously, “A lesson? You are waging your student against a pony you and I know to be decisively ruthless, and should you lose the pot, you expect to have learnt a lesson?”
Celestia paused, looking at Luna for a moment before murmuring, “You’re getting better at analogies I see.” Luna bristled, opening her mouth to reply before Celestia cut her off, turning back to the spinning fragments of the teacup. “But you are right, for the most part. But for your analogy, here is my own. Silverhoof and I, we’re simply playing a game here, a game of chess.
On top of the table, an unearthly green glow took hold, forming a sea-green and turquoise chess board. “Silverhoof thinks he can take Twilight to increase his own standing on the board.” Two pieces sprung up on the board, the sea-green king and the turquoise queen, one two spaces from the other. “I am unwilling to interfere because, you see there, another will rise to take his place." A solitary sea-green bishop rose from the board, covering the sea-green king.
“So what do I do? I do nothing. I simply wait for him to make his move.” The king moved one step closer to the queen. “And then the other pieces come into place.” A turquoise rook rose up from the board, lining up with the king. “And checkmate.”
Luna snorted again, using her magic to scatter the ethereal board into the air. “You and you mind games, Celestia. What happens when someone out-thinks you? When someone has double-trapped you?”
Celestia grimaced. “That will not happen.”
Luna sighed heavily before standing up and facing her sister, “Very well. I can see there’s no way that I can dissuade you from putting your student’s life in such a pointless danger, just as there was no stopping you from letting the sky fill with smog.”
Celestia looked away from Luna, back towards the teacup, now shaping itself back together carefully. “I will return the sky, Luna,” she promised quietly, only just loud enough to be heard by her sister.
“You forget, Celestia.” Luna took the teacup, now whole once again, from Celestia’s magic, putting it down onto the table in front of the two of them. “No matter how well you fix something, it will never be perfect again.”
Luna’s horn glowed brighter for a moment, and the puddle of spilt tea evaporated into nothingness. She turned from her sister and left the room, leaving the ruler of Equestria to her chessboard of smoky skies and pieces of living ponies.