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// Memories of the Sun 
// Story: 30 Minute Prompt One-Shots 
// by Trish Hankins 
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	Celestia remembers. Very few ponies think about that. They focus on her size, her strength, her authority, her title. It doesn't even occur to her average citizen how long she has lived.

Celestia remembers ponies, though whether thousands or millions of them she doesn't know. The number probably is closer to billions. She has seen them all, following the same cycle. They’re born, they live, and they all die.

Celestia remembers speaking to idealistic young creatures eons ago, seeing them forging countries, and talking with them of world peace.

Celestia remembers walking through the ruined capital of what was once a great nation. She can still feel the dust on her hooves.

Celestia remembers the wars, when the predators had a small Equestria surrounded, and her citizens lived in perpetual fear.

Celestia remembers the summit last week when she had met the ancestors of those aggressors who had once made her quake in terror, and scolded them for petty warmongering. They tried not to show their fear to her as they acquiesced, and failed utterly.

Celestia remembers her nephew’s face, as it was when he was a newborn; the look of unfettered affection in his eyes as he followed her as a child; the scowl on his muzzle as he scorned his fellow ponies as an adult.

Celestia remembers his father, his father’s father, and so on, back into antiquity. Some of them were philanthropists, and used their status and wealth to help society as a whole. Others were tyrants, oppressing any who didn't fit their insane and narrow worldview. All of them, the great and the terrible, slept together in a catacomb deep underneath Canterlot. And she loved and cared for them all.

Celestia remembers her sister, asking meekly for a story before bed. They’d been poor then, scared and unknown.

Celestia remembers the scowl on her sister’s face as she announced that she was annulling all titles she held, and rebelling against the state.

Celestia remembers the young unicorn who had somehow become her apprentice. The small thing seemed to soak up anything Celestia said like a sponge, and loved her as a second mother.

Celestia remembers as her faithful student faced everything the world had to throw at her, and succeeded beyond her wildest imaginings.

Celestia remembers when she was young, and hornless.

Celestia remembers choosing a better world.

Celestia remembers living.