//------------------------------// // The Start of Something New. // Story: Under Her Wings // by Karrakaz //------------------------------// “It is clear that action must be undertaken immediately. If we allow this to continue, it casts a bad light on the leadership of Equestria.” Celestia let out a restrained sigh as she watched her sun illuminate the castle gardens. She longed to be out there. Even though the chill of the winter hadn’t been banished entirely, the first signs of spring were already prevalent throughout the castle gardens. The first of the spring rains had been scheduled, meaning that clouds were obscuring most of the sky, which gave the entire garden a somewhat melancholy feel. Celestia didn’t care; she wanted to watch the small, delicate bluebells bloom when the rains started. She wanted to feel the warmth of the sun on her skin. “And what of this reporter? Where does he think slandering the princess’ name will get him?” She managed a thin smile when she spotted a pair of birds chasing each other, their song audible even through the thick glass of the council chambers. She loved springtime, the promise of new life and new experiences. “What do you want to do, Princess?” Unfortunately, being the sole ruler of Equestria, she spent all her days either buried beneath mountains of paperwork or in meetings vital to the governing of Equestria, which meant that she rarely had the time to go out and enjoy any of it. There always seemed to be one more letter to write, one more diplomat to talk to, one more court dispute to reside over. Even now she was stuck in a small room, filled with only a single wooden table, several mountains of paper, and eight of the most argumentative ponies the kingdom had to offer. She turned back to her council, biting back another sigh now that their attention was on her. A throat being cleared shook her out of her introspection. “My apologies, I was lost in thought. What was the question?” “The pony named ‘Snapshot’, as well as the gossip magazine he works for, what should we do with them?” “I say that banishment is the only viable solution!” a distinguished pegasus stallion said, flaring his wings for emphasis. Celestia’s focus drifted when it became clear that their banter was the prelude to the next debate. Her introspective musing had made her miss the third discussion which followed on from several of such debates—and outright shouting matches—about legislation on news. She leaned over to her closest aide and whispered, “What have they been talking about for the last hour, Sunny?” The teal-colored unicorn gave her a worried look but answered in the same volume. “They have been debating the merits of banishment versus public flaying, Your Highness.” Celestia blinked. “What exactly did this Snapshot do?” Sunny Scrolls clutched the notepad tightly and averted her gaze. “In his magazine The Daily Scoop, Mister Snapshot has published an article that suggests a rather... unhealthy relationship between Your Highness and pastries. It has caused quite an uproar amongst the nobles.” “I can only imagine,” Celestia groused. She sat up and cleared her throat. “Councilors.” “And another thing, I don’t care for your tone, sir—” “Enough.” Even though she spoke softly, her words carried a silent power which made everypony in the room fall silent and look at her. Celestia sighed and pressed a hoof to her face. For the last seven hundred years, she had managed to avoid using auditory suggestions in her political dealings, but it seemed like today was going to be problematic. Her patience had run out, and she had done something she shouldn’t have. She needed a slice of chocolate cake. “Councilmen, I am not about to punish anypony for anything. Least of all banish them for the mere act of running a gossip column.” “But, Princess...” One of her newer, more ambitious, advisors didn’t look like he wanted to let go of a juicy matter like this one, possibly trying to curry favour. Ponies like that always reminded her of dragons, jealously guarding their possessions and always looking to expand their influence. “I said, enough.” she watched him silently, daring him to open his mouth again. He gulped and averted his eyes. After that she gave them a curt nod and got up. “That will be all for today, gentlecolts.” The advisors left the room, each of them bowing to her in turn before walking out the door. Sunny Scrolls gave her another unsure look, but was similarly dismissed with a minute shooing motion from Celestia’s hoof. As soon as the last stallion had left, she closed her eyes and let her posture sag, hanging her head in exhaustion. As if dealing with Gryphon treaties and territorial dragons wasn’t enough for one day. Even her own advisors were bickering like children over something that was so harmless, its conclusion should have been forgone. The fact that she hadn’t slept in days didn’t help matters, it made her more irritable and impaired her judgement. She decided it was time for a break. She stepped down from the platform and stretched her legs, enjoying relieving the tension the hours of forced inactivity had caused. A walk in the castle gardens would do her some good, and allow her to rest a little. Keeping up composure was becoming stressful and exhausting. Perhaps she just needed some excitement to break through the tedium. It took roughly twenty minutes before Celestia finally set foot in the gardens. She had run into a fussy noblemare in the hallway outside the council chambers who had very nearly talked her ears off. Disentangling herself from the discussion in a way that wouldn’t upset the mare had taken far too long for her liking. After that she had taken detour through the kitchens. It was the long way around, but at least she was assured of some privacy; not to mention the extra benefit of the freshly prepared chocolate cake, which one of the cooks had saved for her. On some level, she had asked for it to spite her advisors, but mostly it was because she wasn’t going to let all the rumor mongering ruin one of her few guilty pleasures. Perhaps I should send The Daily Scoop a box of Joe’s doughnuts... She walked through the garden, holding the cake aloft in her magic. She made for one of the smaller hedge mazes, it being one of the few places she knew ponies wouldn’t usually disturb her. She made her way to the center of the maze with ease, having memorized the route since she had it erected a few hundred years prior. After a short rest at the gazebo during which she devoured the small treat, Celestia started her walk, and her break, in earnest. She set out from the maze, wandering around the flower gardens. She noted with pleasure that all of them were being kept neat by the many groundskeepers the castle employed, and stopped to smell the flowers more than once. Gardening, another activity she enjoyed, which had fallen by the wayside of the ever growing mountain of paperwork that had long since swallowed her desk. When she wandered into the statue garden, what she heard was more akin to a sawmill than the castle gardens. Rounding the corner she found that one of her guards had dozed off. The pegasus was snoring loudly, slumped against a statue of a mare holding a scroll. Celestia smirked. The Solar Guard was renowned for their diligence, but it seemed like Silverwing could use some help remembering that. “I take it everything is in order then, Silverwing?” She asked, lightly poking him in the side with a hoof. He bolted upright and snapped to attention when he noticed her. Quickly saluting as if he’d been alert the whole time. “G-good afternoon, your majesty.” “Resting your eyes for a spell?” She asked, turning her attention to the statues and checking the enchantments that rested upon them. “Apologies, Princess. It won’t happen again.” Silverwing trailed off, taking note of the distant look in Celestia’s eyes. “At ease, guardsman. You’re not in trouble.” He relaxed a little, taking a deep breath before he continued, “Princess, if it’s not too bold...” One of her ears swiveled in his direction. “Speak your mind.” Silverwing grimaced. “Well, Princess... I was wondering, why exactly am I stationed here?” he gestured to the surrounding topiary. “There’s nothing of value; just a bunch of carved rocks. The rest of the unit makes it seem like some sort of punishment detail, but there really isn’t any reason to post somepony here, is there?” She could see him sweating, probably wondering if he had said too much so she turned to smile at him. “Silverwing, you guard some of the most important cultural heritage of Equestria. Not to mention several important statues I created myself.” She chuckled to put him at ease. “They might not hold any monetary value, but they have no equal when it comes to their emotional value.” “Sorry, Princess. I shouldn’t have questioned your judgement.” Celestia continued to smile at him. “Relax, Silverwing. I encourage such questions. It is much easier to put your best hoof forward if you know the importance of your job, don’t you think?” He saluted. “Yes, your majesty! Please excuse me, I should be getting back to doing just that.” After a nod, Celestia watched the stallion dash off to continue his rounds, letting the smile slip from her face with a sigh. She hadn’t outright lied to him and comforted herself with that fact. ‘Importance of your job, indeed.’ She returned to checking the ancient enchantments she had placed on the statues for signs of decay. Most of them simply kept their statues in pristine condition and ensured that cleaning them was easy. Others however, kept the greatest enemies of Equestria locked up in their prisons of stone, where she could keep an eye on them from her chamber balcony. She stopped briefly to smell the mignonettes which only bloomed around certain statues, taking in the powerful scent of vanilla which, in turn, made her yearn for another slice of cake. The excitement Celestia had been craving struck around the time she reached the front gates. She stumbled when a tidal wave of magic slammed into her and knocked her off balance, groaning as waves of pain radiated from the base of her horn. What's going on?! she thought, fighting the blackness that crept in around the edges of her vision. Gritting her teeth, she forced her head to turn toward the nearby guards, only to watch them collapse, overwhelmed by the explosion of magical pressure. Celestia flared her wings, straining every muscle in her legs to try and preserve her balance under the sensory assault. Only once she felt secure in her stance did she lift her head to try and pinpoint the source of the disturbance. She didn’t have to look far. The fifty foot high dragon bursting through the ceiling was indication enough that something had gone wrong in the Tower of the Scholar, where the entrance exams for her School for Gifted Unicorns were held. She took a step back and lowered her head towards one of the guards, nudging him. “Pull yourselves together.” The guard groaned but didn’t stir, the whites of his eyes making for a good indicator of exactly how out of sorts they were. She abandoned the notion of waking them. The magical energies were starting to give her a migraine, and if it kept up, it wouldn’t be long before she was overwhelmed as well. She would have to destroy whatever was causing the spell flux, which meant that she had to get to the top of the tower. She debated simply magicking herself up there but eventually decided against it. With this much ambient magic, there’s no guarantee that I’ll come out in the right place... if I even come out at all. Flying was the second best option. She rolled her shoulders and braced herself. Taking off without a running start for somepony of her size required a good jump to get airborne. Her jump took her a few yards, after which she crashed to the ground. She groaned while she regained her footing. Forgetting to take into account that she was using her wings for balance was a rookie mistake. A few seconds after trying to take off, her headache had doubled and she tasted dirt. Walking then, or rather galloping, was the only option remaining. She made a mad dash for the entrance to the tower, losing one of her gilded horseshoes in the process. She kicked off the other three and made for the stairs, the headache pounding against her skull only growing in strength. When the Tower of the Scholar was built, Celestia had given the workers specific instructions for its construction. Sandwiched between the walls were a series of runes, powered by the ambient magic all ponies possessed. The runes were powerful enough to stop most major incidents entirely, and even now had managed to contain most of the pressure the explosion at the top was creating. Unfortunately, it meant that staying on her hooves inside the tower was a great deal more difficult than it had been outside, especially while climbing the stairs. By the time she reached the top of the tower, she was exhausted, having lost her balance more than once on her way up. With a surge of will, she pushed herself through the door and into a calm belt of the magical storm. Much like a hurricane, a magical flux had a thin zone where the pressure had a dip in intensity, which gave Celestia a brief respite from the headache and time to assess the situation. Inside the examination room, the examiners hung suspended in a telekinetic force field; They were all unconscious and their horns were smouldering. They must have tried to stop it. The rest of the room was in various states of disarray. Over half of the student benches had been snapped in half or vanished entirely, some potted plants seemed to have gone walk about and were standing together on the far side of the room, and finally a dragon. It sat there, blinking, immobile for the time being. He hadn’t gone on a rampage yet, but even that was only a temporary reprieve at best. She focused on the center of the room where a swirling sphere of magic was floating a few inches from the floor; the cause of this entire life-threatening mess. Judging by its size, it was the result of a sizable experiment gone wrong and looked to be getting more out of hoof with each passing moment. She quickly wove a simple ball of force with her magic and sent it towards the center of the room. The spell unraveled as quickly as she had created it, coming undone like a ball of yarn before it even reached half of the way. Celestia let out an irritated huff. From her position in the doorway, any offensive spell would be unwoven long before it reached its target. She would have to get closer to do anything about the maelstrom of energies that caused all this. Something niggled at the back of her mind; an appointment she had forgotten, no doubt, but she shook it off. Now wasn’t the time to be getting lost in thought. She shook her head and steeled herself. Nothing to it... She stepped forward and fell. The air closer to the epicentre was suffused with a much higher concentration of magic. She would have to be quick. Celestia dragged herself to her hooves and took a few shaky steps. This was all the distance she needed. She braced herself and summoned her own magic, gathering it in the tip of her horn to be released when she had woven it into a deadly lance of pure energy. The doubt returned, clawing at the back of her mind, refusing to be silenced. She looked at the swirling ball of energies again, squinting her eyes to try and get a better picture. That was when she noticed the filly hanging suspended in its midst. With a shock the hitherto forgotten memory came back to her; there was an exam today. The sphere wasn’t just a byproduct of a failed experiment. The magic storm was being fueled by a young filly who looked to be in a great deal of pain. Celestia sighed and allowed the gathered energy to dissipate harmlessly. Stars be damned, why is nothing ever easy? She took a deep breath struggling against the ravaging winds until she reached the outer edge of the sphere. The magical winds whipping about left small gashes in her otherwise pristine white coat, and she knew from experience that touching the sphere itself was going to hurt a great deal more. She pressed on regardless, gritting her teeth against the pain. Pushing through the sphere felt like being flayed by dozens of whips simultaneously. At the same time, her horn felt like it was on fire, and would burst from all the magical energy she was trying to deflect. It took Celestia some time to reach the filly. Every step was like walking through a wall of syrup. When she was finally close enough, she carefully pressed her forehead against that of the filly, locking her painfully sensitive horn with the unicorn’s at the base. It felt like a bolt of lightning. The influx of raw, unfocused magic hurt as it coursed through her body, and despite her many millennia of experience, Celestia had trouble managing it all. She called on her connection with the sun and channeled as much of the the raw power as she could into it. When the flow of magic finally petered out, Celestia was shivering all over. She felt like she had been acting as a conduit for the chaotic magic for ages. Somewhere along the line her hind legs had given out and she had fallen into a sitting position, only barely keeping the tenuous connection between her own horn and that of the filly. After the sphere had dissipated and the filly fell to the ground, Celestia finally gave in and let exhaustion take her. When she opened her eyes again, she had a hard time bringing her vision into focus. Not only that, but her lungs were heaving, fighting a desperate battle for air. Her legs were still trembling, and her coat was rapidly becoming more pink than white from the many gashes that marred her appearance. She shook her head. The room slowly came into focus, and she just caught the last of the disturbances—the dragon—babble incoherently as it shrank back to its state of infancy. She perked her ears when she heard a soft sobbing. When she turned to check on the filly, a pair of purple, tear-filled eyes stared back at her. “I’m s-sorry.” She stepped closer and softly nudged Celestia’s neck, in a gesture that was more akin to a nuzzle. The poor filly was trembling all over. "I didn't mean to—" Celestia shook her head. "You didn't do anything wrong." "But I hurt you!" the filly cried out, her eyes darting all over Celestia’s stained coat. "You... couldn't help it." Celestia had a hard time thinking of things to say to the filly. She was feeling light headed. "I should have tried harder, I should've... I should've—" Stop doing this to yourself! It was an accident. Celestia gnashed her teeth while the filly continued berating herself for something she couldn’t have possibly controlled until she reached the breaking point. "Enough!" The filly shrunk back and cowered. Celestia immediately regretted her outburst, as she watched the filly’s lower lip tremble. She sighed and put a gentle smile on her face. "You did everything you could." The filly was silent for a while, likely wondering if Celestia would snap at her again. “A—are you...” She sniffed a few times, “are you going to die?” The filly’s fear sparked something in Celestia. The little unicorn’s power intrigued her, but its intensity up close had frightened her. The last time she had felt anything close to it was... Celestia’s focus drifted, thinking back to the sister she had fought, and how catastrophic a loss of control could be to even the most powerful of ponies. Especially for powerful ponies. Loud sobbing drew her out of her thoughts. She felt the filly’s forehooves on her neck, pressing against a wound rather painfully. “Please don’t die!” she closed her eyes, her mouth a thin line of concentration while her horn sputtered, sending half a dozen harmless sparks flying through the room. Celestia smiled internally, touched by the filly’s concern. The filly lowered herself to the floor, panting from exhaustion. Only now did Celestia realise that, despite the power the unicorn in front of her possessed, she was still very much a filly. "Shhh, shhh, Calm down. I’m not going to die." "B-but you're bleeding and hurt, and... and..!" Celestia didn’t need to look to know how true that was; every one of her muscles ached. It was a feeling she’d rather not get used to. "That’s true, but I've been hurt much worse, little one." "You have?" "I once fought with my—” Celestia caught herself. “An ancient dragon, she almost bit my entire wing off. You haven't done anything nearly as bad." She managed another weak smile for the filly. “So don’t worry, I’ll be alright.” She reached out with a hoof and poked the filly in the side. “You have more important things to worry about.” The filly cocked her head. “I do?” “Yes, you do,” Celestia continued, raising a hoof to poke the filly in the side again. The action sent bolts of pain through her leg, but she refused to let herself be deterred. She instead motioned towards the filly’s flank with her muzzle. She was tired, and felt lightheaded as her magic faded together with the adrenaline. But she wanted to see the filly’s reaction to having acquired her cutie mark. The filly spun around and around, trying to find out what Celestia was pointing at. “Oh my gosh. Oh my GOSH!” She launched into a hopping sort of dance only children could get away with, her fear forgotten in the blink of an eye. “Twilight!” She watched a dark blue stallion and an off-white mare rush forward to hug the filly tightly; tears of relief apparent on their faces. ’Twilight?' Celestia blinked. Are they her parents? “I’m okay, Mom,” Twilight squeaked, struggling to get out of the vice grip her mother had on her. After a squirming out from between her mothers forelegs, the filly ran back to Celestia, pulling her mother along. The mare gasped when she saw the injuries and fretted quietly, probably looking around for first aid supplies. Twilight watched as well, biting her lip but saying nothing. For Celestia, the attention to her wounds once again made her aware of them. She took a deep breath and got up, noting with satisfaction that several of the gashes had already closed and were healing rapidly. Even so, she still looked like a mess. Her horn had been scorched black in the struggle with rampant magicks, and she had lost her crown somewhere along the way, leaving her mane to drift freely. She heard the filly gasp again when, before her young lavender eyes, one of the wounds closed up, the red that had soaked into Celestia’s coat being the only indication that it had ever been there. Twilight looked up at her with an open mouth and eyes the size of dinner plates. The sight of such foal-like awe made the princess giggle. She lowered her head towards Twilight and winked. “Shhh,” she said, “it’s a secret.” Taken with the filly, Celestia had nearly forgotten about her parents, who were fretting nearby. If anything, they seemed even more shocked than their daughter, and Celestia bit down on her lip to stifle a giggle at their near panicked expressions. She smiled at the trio, feeling a lot better about her day now than she had several hours ago, wounds and headache notwithstanding. And Twilight... Celestia examined her from the corner of her eyes. On the surface she looked like an ordinary unicorn filly. At least, as ordinary as a half burnt, half battered filly could look after a magical disaster like that. And therein lay the problem. Celestia had no idea what to do about a filly that powerful, but if the warmth in her chest was any indication, she could surmise that she already liked Twilight. The older ponies were possibly more excited than Twilight herself, smiling brightly and each giving her a loving nuzzle. Celestia paid them little mind. For the time being she had to assess the damages the storm had caused, and put ponies to work on fixing it. Her left ear twitched as soft groaning reached her from behind the student benches. Looking over her shoulder, she found the examiners, piled up like cordwood. She left the filly to show her parents her cutie mark, and subsequently repeat of her celebratory dance. Celestia strode towards the back of the room. The unicorns were still reeling from their experience with the magical storm, most of them still unconscious. She checked them for wounds, quickly realising that if she wanted answers, she was going to have to find somepony that could tell her. “Professor?” she asked, calling forth her magic to try and disentangle the pile of ponies. The effort sent another bolt of pain through her skull, making her grimace. In lieu of a magical solution, she used muzzle and hoof to make sure that each of the examiners had ample room to breathe. The leader of the teaching staff at her school for gifted unicorns raised his head with another groan. He blinked a few times before his eyes finally focused on her. In a flash he was standing, dusting himself off while looking between his colleagues and the young unicorn who was still dancing around her parents. “It’s good you arrived when you did, Your Highness,” he said, turning to her with an unphased smile. “Any longer and we might not have made it through the day.” Celestia looked at him with a hint of worry, taking a cautious step forward. The professor was an aging, ocher yellow stallion. He was one of the brightest ponies she knew, but had the tendency to say the wrong thing at the wrong time. While usually held in check by his peers, it made him an eccentric. Celestia valued his input, as it was often unburdened by social stigma, but that didn’t stop her for being worried about what he might do next. Nor did it stop her from worrying about him; he often brushed off injuries as unimportant, and she could smell burnt hair. “Your Highness...” he began, a pensive look on his face. Celestia briefly paused her examination. “What is it professor?” "How long has it been since you’ve had to exert yourself to such a degree?" "It has been..." Celestia closed her eyes and thought back, trying to decide exactly how much information she was willing to divulge. "...An exceedingly long time," she finally concluded. The stallion hummed thoughtfully, looking at the filly who was happily dancing around her parents. "That's what I was afraid of." "Speak your mind, professor." Unlike most ponies, who didn’t dare thread in the places Brighthoof’s mind went, his insight was often valuable to her. "She is too powerful, Your Highness. I think it best if you burned away her magic." He turned to her with an inquisitive look. "You do possess that ability, do you not?" Celestia had to still a twitch in her right eye. Poise, Celestia... Poise, grace, composure, she thought to herself as she fought down the urge to smack the stallion. "Where did you get such a ridiculous notion?" Brighthoof shrugged idly while he assessed the damage to the rest of the room. “Third hoof accounts, as well as some historical documents. The rumor mill never sleeps, your majesty.” "For future reference, professor," Celestia replied coldly. "Do not believe everything you hear." Brighthoof nodded, unfazed. “I see...” He glanced around, assessing the damage done to the room in his own quiet way. "Then the only other options available to us are banishment or imprisonment in a magical containment cell," he said with a decisive finality. Celestia looked at him from the corner of her eyes, slackjawed. “You can’t be serious, Brighthoof.” He ran a hoof through his graying mane and averted his gaze. “I am deadly serious, Your Highness. Her power might be great enough to rival your own, but she utterly lacks any form of control. She is a danger to herself and others.” He gestured to the rest of the teaching staff, most of which were only now stumbling to their hooves. “Over sixty percent of the teaching body was here today, and we were overwhelmed by the atmospheric magical pressure." He pushed his cracked glasses up with a hoof, wrinkling his nose in distaste as if they had offended him somehow. “She wasn’t even consciously casting or directing her magic, and it still proved too much for a containment shield created by seven of the school's most competent unicorns.” She could see sadness in his eyes when he looked back at the filly, who by now was hugging her parents. “Such a shame, really, she would have had a lot of potential, but she’s just too dangerous.” Celestia set her jaw. His casual approach to imprisonment (or worse) was infuriating. She didn’t know what to say; what to think. Here she was, thinking about how exciting it was to finally meet a pony who could measure up, and the first thing ponies wanted to do was lock her away. "Wrong again, Brighthoof. There is another alternative." She set off towards the three unicorns in the front of the demolished classroom, giving the stallion no time to reply. She clenched her teeth and kept walking. She wasn’t going to let that happen. Nopony deserved that kind of treatment. She swallowed a lump in her throat at the thought of her sister. Nopony! Only when she noticed the looks of shock on the faces of Twilight and her parents did she stop walking. Following their gazes to her hooves confirmed it; she had let her anger get to her. She'd destroyed a section of the polished marble, leaving a lightly-smoking crater. If she wasn’t careful, she could easily destabilize the entire tower. She cleared her throat and smiled awkwardly. “My apologies,” she said to the shocked family. “Today has been a very trying day.” “We apologise for the damage Twilight’s magic has caused, your majesty,” Twilight’s father said, bowing gracefully. Twilight tilted her head when she looked at her father, before a poke in her sides startled her into action. She bowed as well, awkwardly imitating him. “I’m... I’m sorry for hurting you, Princess. I promise I didn’t mean to.” “I know you didn’t, Twilight.” “Sparkle.” Celestia tilted her head. “Pardon?” “My name is Twilight Sparkle, Princess,” the filly said, keeping her head low. “Twilight Sparkle.” Everypony turned to regard professor Brighthoof. “You are a pony of astounding capabilities. I daresay your power is greater than anypony I’ve had the pleasure of meeting, save for our fair princess, of course.” Twilight smiled brightly at the praise, her chest swelling with pride. “Thank you, sir.” “Sadly,” the professor continued, “you lack even the most basic control needed to handle magic at all, let alone power of that magnitude, resulting in problematic events such as the one we just experienced.” He trotted over to the baby dragon and cast an appraising look while it suckled on its own tail. “Normally, we could teach you that control, but due to the nature of your power, and the fact that we’d all be dead if it hadn’t been for the princess arriving when she did, I think it would be wise for you to come with us.” “So she’s been accepted?” Twilight’s father asked suspiciously, watching the prospect bring a smile to his daughter’s face. “I’m afraid not,” Brighthoof replied. “Twilight needs to be locked away, for her own good as well as that of others.” A deadly silence gripped the room. It was as though a Windigo had made its perch in the rafters while nopony was watching. Twilight's parents openly glared at Brighthoof who, for his part looked oblivious to the tension he had created. A white wing blocked the line of sight for both parties. Celestia heaved a heavy sigh and dipped her head towards Twilight’s parents. “I apologize once again. Professor Brighthoof doesn’t always consider the social ramifications of his words. Nopony will be locking up anypony, I assure you.” Twilight scrambled and hid behind her mother, peeking out from behind the mare’s hind legs with youthful curiosity. Both parents had tensed, a slight shift in posture that turned their presence from ‘visitors’ to ‘hostiles’. Her mother wore a mask of grim determination, announcing to the world that she would do whatever it took to protect her baby. Her father was even more frightening. He looked ready to take on anypony who would even dare to threaten his little girl. Brighthoof didn’t seem deterred at all, however. “But, Princess, I am only trying to protect them from their daughter. You have seen how dangerous her magic can be!” He stepped forward, hesitating only when Celestia shot him a withering glare. “That’s enough, Brighthoof. We will talk about this at a later date; for now I think it best that you get yourself checked out by the medical staff and take a week off.” Though her parents remained tense, a smile bloomed on little Twilight’s face as she watched the ‘big bad professor’ leave. She hopped out from her hiding spot behind her mother and bounded towards Celestia. She came to a halt and placed her tiny hooves against one of Celestia’s legs, grinning up at the princess before looking over her shoulder. “See, mom? I told you Princess Celestia was amazing.” Again, the half forgotten feeling of kinship threatened to overwhelm Celestia. She allowed herself a smile before clearing her throat to draw back the attention to herself. “However—” “You’re not going to take her magic away, are you?” Celestia face hoofed. “Why does everypony assume I have the power to do that?” She watched in exasperation as both of Twilight’s parents shrugged and mumbled something about The Daily Scoop. She reconsidered her earlier stance on banishing the magazine; at the very least she was going to have a serious conversation with the publishers. “No, I will not take away her magic.” She looked down at Twilight who’d sat down in front of her. She decided, then and there, to do something she hadn’t done in a long time. “How would you like to become my personal student, Twilight Sparkle?” If Twilight’s smile had been bright before, it was eclipsed by the radiant one that now spread across her face. True to her name, her eyes began to sparkle and she shook lightly but the best part was the noise that accompanied her charming expression. It was a mix between a gasp and a squeal, and succeeded in bringing a smile back to Celestia’s face as well. “Yesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyes! When can we start? Will I be able to teleport? Are you going to teach me to raise the sun? Oh, I should get started right away!” The filly stepped back and closed her eyes, sticking out her tongue in an unconscious gesture of concentration while her horn once again produced a few futile sparkles. She ignored decorum in a way only the young could get away with. Celestia liked her already. Contrary to the filly, Brighthoof, the examiners, and even Twilight's parents were merely surprised and confused. Their questions drowned out the filly’s cheering, making Celestia want to groan; why did ponies always feel the need to question her every move? Granted, she wasn’t sure if she had questioned herself enough. Normally she waited, analyzing, deliberating, formulating a plan; she tried to foresee and plan for all possible outcomes. The last time she hadn’t, she had lost three days of her life and the two year’s worth of alcohol it had taken to get herself drunk. At least she had found out that she wasn’t an angry drunk. Still, now was not the time to be second guessing herself. Brighthoof was right about one thing; if Twilight didn’t learn to control her magic, it would become a problem for everypony. Ignorance was to be expected. After all, It had been several centuries since she had last taken on a student. Even Numbers had done some great things for the reformation of tax policy, but despite, or perhaps because of that, Celestia was the only one who remembered him. “Well,” she began, looking at Twilight’s parents, “You will have to get permission from your parents, but if they have no objections, I would think that you might want some time to pack, and say goodbye.” Twilight frowned and glanced back at her mother. The mare shook her head and motioned for her daughter to continue. “Why do I need to say goodbye?” “Because, if you want to be my student, you would have to live here at the castle, Twilight.” “So I can’t see my mom and dad anymore?” The question put a damper on Twilight’s spirits, and came with a case of shimmering eyes so potent that even Celestia couldn’t resist. She put a reassuring hoof on Twilight’s back in a comforting gesture. “Of course you can, Twilight. You’ll be able to visit them on the holidays. You just won’t see them every day.” “That’s right, honey,” Twilight’s mother said, giving the filly a comforting nuzzle. “I’m sure the princess will let us come and visit often enough. It’ll be just like when Shining went to the academy.” After Celestia had called in an entire army of construction workers to begin repairs to the tower, they moved to the castle library to talk about Twilight’s relocation. In hindsight, it may not have been the best of ideas. Twilight vanished upon entry, losing herself among the bookshelves that reached all the way to the ceiling, her squeals of glee amongst the books indicating her winding path through the library. Celestia was impressed when she was told about the amount Twilight had already learned in her relatively short life, and if she were to believe Twilight’s parents, the filly would make short work of any book put in front of her, along with any reference material close by. Twilight was more than a little ahead of her peers. While her new student frolicked, Celestia outlined the details of Twilight’s new life at the castle to her parents, and even showed her parents the room she had in mind for the filly. Celestia got her first taste of the thirst for knowledge that Twilight possessed when they returned to the library. The filly had a piled up at least six dozen books she wanted to read onto a nearby table. Engrossed in the books, the filly didn’t even notice their return until Celestia put a hoof on her shoulder. “How long will it take before I can learn an invisibility spell?” the filly asked, bubbling with excitement as she showed Celestia the relevant chapter in a spellbook that, by rights, shouldn’t even have been in the public library. “Well, I’m sure tha—” “What about a fireball? Or maybe the flashfreeze spell my magic kindergarten teacher used to use?” “...” Celestia didn’t even have time to form a reply, as the filly had already moved on to other subjects. “What are the guards like? How old are you? Can I see the observatory?” When Celestia opened her mouth again, she was stopped by a look from Twilight’s mother that said, ‘just wait her out,’ an advice she wisely followed. By the time Twilight was done with her rapid fire barrage of questions, she had all but exhausted herself. When the filly timidly asked for a book to take home with her, Celestia gladly obliged. The way Twilight set her jaw and pursed her lips to form a pout when her parents told her that one book would be enough brought a smile to Celestia’s face. She took ‘Magical Misfires and Mayhaps’ from a nearby shelf and floated it down to the filly. “How about this; I’ll give you this book to read at home, and when you come back, you can read any book you want.” “Really?” Twilight asked, looking up at her with those big soulful eyes of hers. Celestia nodded. “Really.” That seemed to be enough for the filly who trotted back to her mother and sat down with the book, apparently having a hard time not cracking open the book right away. Twilight became a much more active participant of the conversation after that, asking about test scores and homework with a deadly accuracy. The more pointed the filly’s questions, the more concerned Celestia became. They hadn’t even begun and already she was starting to doubt the wisdom of her decision. She wasn’t entirely sure she’d know what to do. For all her experience, she had never had a student as young as Twilight. In addition to that, she already had so many duties that she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to juggle all of them. Caring for a young filly and teaching her everything she needed to know, not only to control her magic, but to grow up well, would put even more strain on her already overburdened schedule. Unless you start delegating tasks like you should have done, so many decades ago, her mind helpfully reminded her. It was afternoon by the time they finally finished their conversation. Celestia walked her visitors to the gates, wanting to get a last breath of fresh air in before she dove back into the pool of muck that was Equestrian bureaucracy. They exchanged goodbyes and Celestia received a solemn promise from Twilight that she would be ‘ready for any quiz the princess might have about the book,’ which made her smile again. Why am I worried? she thought. She’s just a filly. I’ve taught more than my share of ponies, and with a little shuffling and delegating tasks, I should have more than enough time. This shouldn’t be too difficult. “Your Highness?” came a voice from beside her. “Yes, Sunny?” she replied, closing her eyes and tilting her head up so she could bask in the warmth of her sun. Her charge was bathing the entire city in its warming glow, with nary a cloud in sight. “Princess, it was supposed to be an overcast day today.” Celestia blinked and looked down; she remembered thinking how the weather matched the rut she was in, mostly dark and chilly with only a few warm rays of sunshine breaking through the cloud cover. And she had an inkling as to what had caused it. “A mistake by the weather patrol, perhaps?” she asked hopefully. “No, Princess, it seems you put too much energy into raising the sun today; the weather patrol reports that the clouds keep evaporating.” “Ah...” On second thought, this may take a bit of doing.