It has been nine-hundred years so far, and 11 months. Everypony knows me as the proud ruler of this land. But since so much has happened I cannot help but have that aching heartache within my soul each day.
But pardon me, my name is Princess Celestia. But you may call me Tia. A rather silly name, I know it does not sound proper for a mare of my old age but I miss that name dearly . A little filly, whom I cared for more then my entire kingdom, used to call me that. I used to very much dislike the name, but I miss it. I miss the sound of that blue-haired filly calling out to me saying " Tia! Come on and play with me !' ". Her sweet voice, calling out to me. I didn't reliaze her true feelings until she was gone and all I got was her memories of anger and suffering. Which I had forgotten over the long and dreading years.
The filly I am speaking of is my younger sister, Princess Luna.
I remember alot of the times we spent together, just the two of us, out of all the memories I have of her, the unhappiness inside of her started when she was only around the age of 6 and I was 9. I couldn't believe how much she suffered all these years that I feel so sad just thinking of her. But that day it all began, we were both out in the castle's backyard. I was drawing a sketch of the sun rising, using my magic to make the brush strokes as smooth as possible. Luna was looking around for some new discoveries in the bushes. You know, what all little fillies do. Go around the yard and see if they can find any bugs or pretty flowers to give you. She dug deep into the bush to see what she could find when a little rabbit popped out of the bush and startled her.
She tripped on the table I was working on and spilled ink all over my painting. That painting wasn't even very special. Yet I made such a big deal over it. I yelled at her," Luna! Look what you did ! ". My little Luna, she stepped back in fear staring at my angered expression. She just ran back to her room and didn't come out for the rest of the day. The servants tried to give her dinner that night but she refused. They tried to get me to talk to her but I was to busy doing my painting. I was so cold-hearted. Doing nothing to stop the darkness developing inside of her. That was the very first memory I had when she started a small change inside of her. A small spot of darkness, which grew bigger as the years went by.
After that day, she seemed a little different. It was hard to notice if you didn't pay very close attention. She only asked me to play with her once a day, and even then, she didn't bother to say it with her usual cheery voice. She didn't say anything about how her dolls loved the food she cooked for them last night, or how much she loves both night and day, she just told me to play with her.
But I was just as uncaring as I was cold-hearted back then. I didn't ask her any questions or even apoligize for what I did. That was when her unhappiness began.