//------------------------------// // Ascension // Story: Rise of the Phoenix Empress // by Chengar Qordath //------------------------------// When I regained my senses, I was no longer in Equestria. I do not have the words to do justice to where I stood. For that matter, the mere joy I felt at standing once more after a month of convalescence was considerable. However, there were far greater things to experience than the simple sensations of the flesh. ‘Twas as if I had risen up to the very height of all creation, dwelling ‘mongst the stars. I could see the celestial spheres turning through their motions, guiding the stars and planets along their appointed courses. The very mechanistic clockwork of the entire universe, laid bare before my eyes. I could have easily devoted years to the study of this place and only begun to unravel its secrets. Before I could even begin to appreciate the sight, Celestia stepped out of the sun’s light. There was a clear note of condemnation in her voice when she spoke. “It was never your destiny to come to this place, Sunbeam Sparkle. That will complicate matters, and restrict the means by which I might address your problems.” “Neigh, I suppose ‘twas not.” I found the pattern of creation far too fascinating to even properly acknowledge the princess. “But then, destiny seems to be a nebulous concept. I am sure you thought ‘twas Shadow’s destiny to take up your sister’s mantle, yet when the time came she refused it. Now I have come to claim that which is mine by rights, e’en if destiny says I am to be denied it.” I made no effort to hide the triumphant smile on my face. “‘Twould seem, Celestia, that ‘destiny’ has little effect on ponies. Or perhaps the truth of things is that ponies write their own fates, and we call the result destiny.” I turned my head from the heavenly spheres, at last meeting Celestia’s eyes. “I take it, then, that the destruction of my flesh was a needed step in coming to this place. I suppose ‘tis unsurprising. Becoming an alicorn is not simply a matter of sprouting wings.” “No, it is not,” Celestia agreed. “Doubly so in your case.” She closed her eyes in concentration, and her appearance gradually shifted. While still taller than the average pony, Celestia no longer towered above me, and her mane was now solid pink and had lost the ethereal, ever-shifting quality it normally held. Though still an alicorn, she no longer seemed quite so far beyond the ken of mortal ponies. “This is what I was, before I mastered the power of the sun.” She spread her wings wide, so that I would not fail to miss them. “I exited my mother’s womb an alicorn, and I shall die one. You, however, seek to elevate yourself beyond the status of your birth. Though I will grant you the power you seek, know that you have not earned the right to it.” “And why not?” I demanded. “Have I not served you loyally, from the very day I joined the ranks of your magi? Did I not safeguard Equestria, and guide it through the trials and tribulations of the Rebellion? Have I not put in place policies that will ensure your undisputed control o’er all Equestria? What more must a pony do to earn this power?” “Power,” Celestia repeated, shaking her head as if I were a simple foal failing to grasp the most fundamental of lessons. “Tell me, Sunbeam, what purpose is there to your lust for power? What will you do, once there are no further heights to aspire to?” “I am not so foolish as to seek power merely for its own sake,” I countered. “Always, I have acted with concrete purpose. Without power, how can one exert their will ‘pon the world at large? Would a powerless magi have been able to shatter the resolve of the Rebellion, or bend the nobles to the will of the crown? I think not.” “Then you seek power solely so that you might exercise it?” Celestia frowned, and gave a slight shake of her head. “That answer is insufficient. I am well aware of the nature of power and do not require a lecture on its uses. Tell me, what will you do, once the power you seek is yours?” “What any would do,” I answered simply. “Act for the betterment of myself and Equestria.” “Is that so?” The skepticism in her voice was plain. “And what if the betterment of Equestria were to conflict with your own desires?” “Such a thing could never come to pass.” Celestia frowned at that statement, so I proceeded elaborate on the point. “The true interest of any ruler will always coincide with that of the ponies beneath her. Consider, Celestia, that the wellbeing of all Equestria is the only foundation of my greatness once I become your peer. The strength, security, and wealth of Equestria is also my strength, my security, and my wealth. 'Tis the simplest, most fundamental fact of rulership. E'en a pony totally devoid of virtue—as so many believe me to be—would surely grasp that prudence suggests taking much the same course of action in rulership.” I have never understood why so many ponies believe that an evil ruler would seek to make their realm a den of misery, poverty, and oppression. Those who construct such lurid fantasies rarely stop to consider the practical problems of the matter. Poor citizens offer far less in tax revenues and are far more open to joining rebel movements. Large armies of iron-hoofed oppression are incredibly expensive and often composed of ponies whose loyalty and character is dubious. One must also consider the massive government infrastructure needed to enforce all the needlessly restrictive government policies, as well as all the difficulties inherent with integrating freshly conquered territories... Celestia did not seem pleased, but said nothing to dispute my claims. “If that is what you believe, then so be it. Come; we have much to do.” She strode off into a seemingly random part of the heavenly spheres, but as I followed her I began to realize the true import of the direction she’d chosen. The distant, blinking lights slowly resolved themselves not into stars, but something else entirely. Memories. My memories. “This is who you are, Sunbeam Sparkle,” Celestia announced, having seemingly read my mind. “More than just your memories, this is the very essence of your being. The sum of everything you are that is not contained within the body.” “Fascinating.” I glanced at a few of the passing memories in idle curiosity. The day Celestia named me as her Grand Vizier. My duel with Stone Circle, whom I’d deliberately provoked in order to remove him as a candidate for Archmagus of Canterlot. The colt of the warlock Spellfire, as I crafted him into a living weapon to destroy his father before the madpony could unleash doom ‘pon Trottingham. My first meeting with Shadow Kicker. The early days of my own foalhood, as my father tried to impart knowledge of glassmaking unto me. The training session with Midnight. I was beginning to find that I did not entirely care for this experience. “Are we to spend all day perusing these relics of the past, or shall we proceed with the matter which brought us to this place?” “Are you so eager to be done with this?” Celestia inquired, arching a single eyebrow. “I would almost think you did not care for the sight of yourself. Come, we have much more to see before ‘tis time for your ascension. Time has little meaning in this place, so we need not hurry ourselves.” I glowered at her, my suspicion rising. “If this is some ploy to dissuade me from my course...” “It is not,” Celestia answered quite calmly. “I know you, Sunbeam. Your will is not so easily broken, and there would be little point to attempting it at this juncture. We have already passed the point of no return; your body is naught but ash on the floor of your tower. You will either leave this place an alicorn, or you will never leave it at all.” Celestia’s eyes narrowed in determination. “Do not think for a moment that I would hesitate to leave you here, if I must. The death of one of my little ponies by my own hooves—and the consequences of breaking my own oaths to you—are both burdens of guilt I can endure if the alternative is to cause untold pain and suffering.” She called for the memory of what I had wrought upon Spellfire’s child. “Is it not as you said, when I asked you to justify this atrocity? That there are times when the few must suffer so that the many may live? I have taken your advice to heart, my vizier. Tell me, how do you care for it when ‘tis applied to you instead of another?” I confess, the change of perspective did make the matter rather unpleasant. “I would also caution you, Sunbeam,” Celestia continued, “that e’en after you ascend to the ranks of alicorns, you will not lie beyond my power.” Still, there was an obvious point of contention. “If you intended my death, you would already have seen to it. There would be no point to this lingering conversation if my doom had already been sealed.” Celestia conceded the matter with a single resigned nod. “That much is true.” She called forth more of my experiences, idly sifting through acts both foul and fair. “You are many things, Sunbeam Sparkle, but the one thing you are not is a monster. That is why I have given you so many chances to better yourself. It is why I will give you this one chance to become something more than what you currently are. I truly believe that all ponies—even ponies like you—have within them the capacity for goodness. That for all your foul and infamous deeds, you still have the capacity to better yourself if you wish to do so.” “Some would call that belief foolish,” I cautioned her. “Many of your own closest advisors amongst them. What did Gale and Shadow have to say when you informed them of your plans to elevate me? Did they approve of your choice, or did they warn you that I would surely betray you to your death?” “Both of them were strongly opposed to my decision.” Celestia paused, then slowly reached out and placed a hoof upon my shoulder. “However, this is one time when I cannot accept their counsel. Despite all that you are, and all that you might do, I still believe that it is within you to better yourself. Some may call that foolish, or e’en dangerously naive. I would say to them that it is of the utmost importance to believe that everypony has the capacity for goodness within them.” “For once, I find myself in agreement with Shadow and Gale both,” I declared. “What does it matter if a pony has the capacity for goodness when their every act is wicked? Devoting your time to seeing the virtues of your enemies merely leaves you vulnerable to their hidden blades.” “Perhaps so.” She paused and directed a loaded glance towards me. “Perhaps my need to believe in the better nature of ponykind has already undone me. I confess that your redemption has been something of a long-term project of mine. There is a darkness within you, Sunbeam Sparkle. ‘Twould have been far too easy for you to embrace it, and yet you have never fully succumbed. There have been times when you seemed to have given in to your darker impulses, but you always found your way back to the light in due time.” Celestia gazed down, meeting my eyes. “I do not know if you will ever be a good mare, Sunbeam Sparkle, but I would like to think that I have at least saved you from being naught but another villain in the long list of those who plagued Equestria.” To my utter shock, she pulled me into a gentle embrace, like a mother comforting a young foal. “I cannot say if I will ever succeed in showing you how to be a righteous mare, Sunbeam, but I will never cease in attempting it. Perhaps that makes me a fool, for wishing to believe in something impossible. If so, then I contend that it is the best sort of folly. How will my little ponies ever become better if their Princess does not believe in them?” One of my ears flicked in irritation. “I do not require redemption or salvation, Celestia. I do not know whether your insistence upon ‘believing’ in me is flattering or insulting. In either case, it is neither required, nor desired.” “I know your feelings on the matter, Sunbeam.” She leaned down and bestowed a single kiss upon my forehead. “And yet, I will continue to believe in you regardless. Whatever else you do, and whatever you might become at the end of this, you will always be my little pony, and I will always love you.” She slowly released me from her embrace, offering a smile that seemed mournful while still carrying a queer sort of pride to it. “It was never your destiny to become an alicorn ... but I suppose you always were fond of the idea that you wrote your own destiny. Let us see what you make of it.” The heavenly spheres flashed white, and light consumed me. I was alive. No. More than just alive. I could feel the life coursing through my veins like rivers of molten fire. ‘Twas beyond incredible. At that moment, it seemed as if the simple striking of my hooves could reduce mountains to rubble, and a single spell would suffice to reduce all of Canterlot to ash. The mere beating of my wings could flatten homes and conjure storms. My wings. My wings! I spread my new appendages wide, marveling at the feel and appearance of them. ‘Twas a most curious sensation to have these new feathery limbs attached to my body. Especially as I had been a cripple long enough to become somewhat used to the condition. Not only was I reacquainting myself with the use of my limbs, but now I had two more to grow accustomed to as well. Still, I would be quite content if that was the greatest problem before me. I think I could be forgiven for so exulting in my triumph to the point that I failed to notice the crowd gathering. ‘Twas only natural that they would wish to pay homage to their new princess. Neigh, not princess. I never cared for that title, and advised Celestia against taking it. Now that the power was mine, ‘twas only proper that I set things to rights. I quickly gathered my thoughts and adopted an appropriately regal demeanour, drawing up to my new, far more impressive height. “KNEEL BEFORE THINE EMPRESS, MY SUBJECTS!” Though I normally disliked the Traditional Royal Canterlot Voice, there are occasions where a certain theatrical touch is called for. To my immense irritation, the ponies of Canterlot did not act as ordered. Rather than fall to their knees before their new ruler, the crowd milled about in confusion until Shadow Kicker stepped forward. “Sunbeam.” I felt a flash of anger at the distinct absence of my chosen title, but before I could put my mind to a suitable rebuke Shadow continued onward. “Where is Commander Celestia? What have you done with her?” Before I could answer the query, though in truth I had no idea where Celestia was after our encounter in the heavens, the crowd began to grow restive. One of the more foolish members let out a furious shout. “She has stolen Celestia’s power! Traitor! Usurper!” Once the accusation was made, the crowd’s mood turned even fouler. For a moment, I wondered if my first act as an empress of Equestria would be to unleash my newfound alicorn powers upon my subjects. A massacre was hardly an uplifting note with which to begin my reign. “Calm thyselves!” I confess that my relief at hearing Celestia’s voice was considerable. ‘Twould seem that despite my new title, I would be forced to rely upon her for guidance, at least for a time. I suppose it could not be helped. There is a considerable difference between serving as a trusted and honored advisor and wearing the crown for oneself. Though that line of thought did serve to remind me that I would need a crown. Something properly reflecting the power and glory of my new status. One can hardly be a proper empress if one does not look the part. The crowd slowly parted, and Celestia stepped forward. It was at that moment that my triumph began to crumble around me. Celestia was not as I remembered her. Rather, she had the appearance that she had taken on whilst we spoke within the heavens. Still a mare of considerable presence, but no longer the towering figure she had once been. Shadow Kicker could nearly meet her eyes without looking upward at all, and I was actually forced to look down at her. ‘Twas a most strange and uncomfortable sensation. I did not understand why this had come to pass. Why would she be so diminished by surrendering her sister’s mantle to— Neigh. She could not have. Why would she do such a thing? I retreated into the confines of my own mind, seeking out the source of the new power that dwelt within me. That was when I felt it. A raw, pulsing line of fire, light, and life connecting me to the flaming orb that hung within the sky. 'Twas an undeniable heat within my body, as though I had sunk into a hot bath after a day in the snow; from my core to the tips of my hooves and my newly acquired wings, there was warmth. Almost too much. A roiling, bubbling well of magic ignited, arced, and settled back into my body, a sensation I felt—aye, felt—keenly on the surface of the celestial body whose fires this mantle echoed. Of the moon, I felt nothing. There was only one conclusion: she had not given me Luna’s abandoned mantle, but her own. I stared at Celestia in utter bewilderment, trying to make sense of this turn of events. I simply could not bring myself to understand her actions. O’er and o’er, the question repeated itself in my mind: why would she do such a thing? There was no reason to it. Celestia strode to my side, effortlessly commanding the crowd’s attention despite her diminished state. Even though she was now merely of a height with the largest of mortal ponies, her raw presence and force of personality remained undiminished. If anything, they seemed all the stronger, as if her reduction had somehow increased her ability to connect with her subjects on a fundamental level. Perhaps it was because she was smaller now, and thus less intimidating and distant? She gazed out over the crowd, a perfectly calm and serene smile on her face. “My little ponies, I understand that a great deal of fear and confusion will be caused by this turn of events. However, I assure each and every one of thee that there is nothing to fear. Thou art all safe, and thou shalt continue to be safe in the coming days. I promise I will fully explain this event to all of thee in the fullness of time. However, for the moment I must speak with thy new empress.” There was a barely perceptible pause as she announced my title, and for a moment I could swear that I saw a faint, almost mocking curl of her lips. As if my refusal to accept being a mere princess was some grand jest. Perhaps it was, at that. It might be that the entire affair was nothing more than an elaborate joke. Matters had not proceeded as I had originally envisioned. My new subjects had been on the verge of open defiance before Celestia calmed them, and I bore the wrong mantle of power. I did not think it likely Celestia could have erred in the matter, and thus I faced a far more terrible conclusion: Celestia was in the midst of hatching some scheme. In hindsight, I should have guessed it. For all her apparent misgivings, she had folded far too easily to my wishes. Her resistance to my ascension had been little more than a token effort, and a few quick assurances that I would not grossly abuse my new power. Now I held far more power than I had dared to dream, even at my most ambitious. I stood not merely as Celestia’s equal, but as her superior in every single measurable way. By all rights, this should have been the greatest triumph imaginable. And yet, I was uneasy. More than that, there was a terrible sinking sensation within the pit of my stomach. Dread. The feeling a mouse has, in the instant between when the trap is triggered and the moment it snaps shut. As the crowd dispersed, Celestia turned to me, that knowing and faintly amused smile now firmly in place upon her countenance. At that moment I did not feel like the supreme Empress of Equestria, but rather a filly caught by her mother in the act of swiping a pie from the windowsill. Perhaps the most frustrating aspect of it all was that I still did not e’en understand what had passed. ‘Tis one thing to be undone by the trickery of one’s foes, and quite another to be so beaten without e’en grasping how the defeat had come to pass. “You are beginning to understand now, are you not?” Celestia asked. I was strangely pleased to learn that not e’en the loss of her mantle could undo her fondness for speaking in riddles. ‘Twould seem some aspects of her character were indeed unchanging. “Understand what?” I demanded, making no effort to hide my irritation with the situation. “Everything.” Damn her and her cryptic answers. Could she not speak plainly? Before my irritation could mount too much, she had mercy and offered me something beyond answers so vague as to be incomprehensible. Though she did not explain herself, she did at least provide more than empty words masquerading as profundity. “How fares your daughter, Empress?” “My daughter?” E’en as my thoughts turned to her, I felt an odd sort of twinge in the back of my mind. ‘Twas a difficult thing to put into plain words, but I experienced a sudden sort of awareness regarding Midnight. Well, perhaps not so much awareness as a knowledge of the potential for awareness. ‘Twas similar to the sensation one experiences when asked to call to mind some text one had committed to memory many years ago. Whilst the knowledge always dwelt within the depths of one’s mind, ‘twas normally far distant from one’s active thoughts, yet readily available when required. Somewhere within the depths of my own consciousness, there was a thread of thought connecting my daughter and I. ‘Twas simplicity itself to grasp that thread and follow it back to its source. In that moment, my mind connected with my daughter’s. What followed was nothing so crude and intrusive as a mere invasion of her mind; rather, it was a sort of sharing, on a level far beyond that of mere words and thoughts. ‘Twas as if our very essence intermingled for a few brief moments. I felt everything about her. Her hopes. Her dreams. Her fears. Her aspirations. Everything. Most of all, I saw the most fundamental of the ties that bind us together. The bond between mother and daughter, our fates—our destinies—were inextricably intertwined, for good or for ill. The more I studied that connection, the less I cared for it. I had never given a great deal of thought to the question of what it meant to be a mother, or to have her as a daughter. She was my child, the heir to my legacy, and ‘twas my responsibility to care for her and see to her preparation for adulthood. I confess I had even developed a certain fondness for her, over the years. Though I was well aware that I had shaped her destiny, I had never truly put any great thought into what that truly meant. However, now that I had this new alicorn’s perspective on the matter, all was cast into stark and undeniable clarity. The consequences of my every choice laid bare. I could see the pattern of her life slowly taking shape before me, driven forward by the choices I had made in raising her. I did not care for what I saw. My daughter was lonely. Terribly lonely. Her heart yearned for love from a mother who saw her as nothing more than another tool in her quest for power. A means of escaping mortality’s clutches by protecting her legacy. There was a quiet desperation growing within her heart, an irrational need to drive forward in the vain hope that some new accomplishment might finally earn her mother’s love. Then I found the more recent scars upon her psyche, from the event I called nothing more than an unimportant training exercise gone awry. I saw now how terribly wrong I was in that assertion. There were so many terrible things growing within my daughter as a result of that single incident. Pain at the belief that she had somehow failed to meet my expectations. Guilt over all that I had suffered as a consequence of that ill-fated choice. Fear that I might ask her to undergo such exercises again once I recovered. And within the deepest, darkest places of her heart, a growing fury and resentment towards me, for she knew that her injury had been unjust. I had been aware in the past that my choice might have had a negative impact on my daughter. However, that knowledge had never been of excessive concern to me. A bit of pain and suffering is just a part of the growing process, and those ills my daughter suffered would ultimately make her all the stronger. ‘Twas far easier to hold such a belief when I was blessedly ignorant of the harm my acts had caused Midnight. Now, due to my new insight into her condition as a result of my ascension, I was forced to confront the consequences of my actions. The full knowledge of all the pain, suffering, and deprivation I had subjected her to due to my many inadequacies as a mother and a pony. It did not even end with a harsh assessment of Midnight’s current condition. Beyond that, there lay an infinite web of causes and consequences. Some ponies have theorized that one of Celestia’s many abilities was a sort of foresight. The truth was somewhat more complicated: she could not see the future, but she could see the nature of ponies and the ties that bound them together, in an infinite, ever-expanding web of possibilities. Not only did I see every single way I had hurt my daughter, I also saw all the ills that might befall her as a consequence of my actions. I have always believed that knowledge is superior to ignorance, and ‘tis foolishness to deceive oneself as to the true nature of one’s own actions. Never before had I wished so fervently to hide from an unpleasant truth. I had only sought to give my daughter the strength and skills she needed to survive in a dangerous world. But now I could see far too many outcomes where my daughter fell into darkness—where the name Midnight Sparkle would be spoken in hushed whispers by terrified, huddled masses. And all because of my choices. My daughter was not e’en the end of it. E’en as I touched on her life, I felt the connections she had forged with ponies besides myself. Midnight was connected to Gale, who in turn connected to Shadow and many other ponies within and outside of Clan Kicker, and every single one of those ponies had their connections as well. When I had stood in the heavens with Celestia, I had dared to think that given enough time I might somehow unravel the very pattern of the universe. The cold, unfeeling laws that drove the mechanisms of reality. The very nature of the universe itself. The fundamental forces that connected everything. However, Celestia’s simple question had driven me to a different, far more important realization. Not about the universe, but about all ponykind. Just as the laws of reality connected things, so all ponies were all connected to one another in a single great chain of being. Our actions, our thoughts, our beliefs, they all had consequences for the whole. Every single choice unleashed waves across the entirety of the whole. The pain and suffering of evil actions, and all the joy that altruism might create. Harmony and disharmony. I’d never really understood what those words meant until now, but with this perspective ... it was all so obvious! I saw everything. I understood everything. And I realized how terribly wrong I had been. I do not know how long I stood there, in the middle of the Canterlot Royal Gardens as I struggled to wrap my mind around the new vistas that had opened before me. It was not until Celestia set a hoof on my shoulder and called my name that I was finally prompted to return my attention to the world before me. From the way my name echoed within my ears, I suspected that Celestia had been attempting to draw my notice for some time. E’en so, the web of causes and consequences lingered large in my thoughts. Celestia smiled at me, still carrying an air of maternal wisdom about her despite the loss of the Sun’s mantle. “Sunbeam, my little pony, did you really think me ignorant of what you sought to accomplish? Did you think me so easily beaten and manipulated? I applaud you for your ingenuity and daring.” She leaned forward, and whispered into my ear, “However, the truth is that we were never e’en playing the same game. I know not what outcome you sought, but I do believe I have won the day.” I still could not make sense of it. I had obtained the ultimate power, undisputed mastery of all Equestria.  And yet, somehow I was beaten at the same time. It simply made no sense. How had Celestia undone me by surrendering her power? ‘Twas inconceivable. And yet, as I walked through the royal quarters in the palace, quarters that were now mine instead of hers, the truth of it yet lingered over my mind. What possible objective could she have achieved that would justify the loss of power and her very immortality? Why surrender so much when simply granting me her sister’s mantle would have achieved the same effect? The more I thought on the matter, the less sense the choices made. Everything I could see indicated that she had suffered a devastating defeat, yet she considered the current outcome a triumph. I misliked that, for the only conclusion to be drawn from those facts was that Celestia had somehow undone me so thoroughly that e’en after the fact it was beyond my comprehension. “Mother?” My daughter’s voice jarred me from my thoughts, taking me quite by surprise. I should have heard her entering my rooms; though she has a talent for silence, mine own senses are quite keenly honed. Magi who are easily taken unawares rarely survive to live full and successful careers. I turned to face my daughter, needing a brief moment to find her on account of my considerably changed height. The anatomical changes I had undergone would no doubt require considerable adjustment. My royal dignity would not be well-served by striking my head or wings ‘pon every low-hanging ceiling. Eventually, I managed to move my neck to a point where I could comfortably meet my daughter’s eyes. “Midnight. My child...” I found myself at quite a loss for what to say to my daughter. After everything I had seen, all that Celestia had exposed me to regarding my treatment of her, ‘twas difficult to put my thoughts into words. I was not in the habit of apologizing for my perceived misdeeds, yet in this circumstance I found myself hard-pressed to deny that an apology might not be merited. Perhaps ‘twould be wiser to simply speak with her as I normally did, but I was uncertain if such was e’en within my capabilities. Could I simply carry on being her mother, after all I had seen? My daughter stepped forward, her gaze travelling up and down my new body as if she were struggling to come to grips with it. Given my own difficulties in adjusting to my new form, I could quite empathize with her predicament. ‘Twas curious, how easily I understood her moods and thoughts now that I was an alicorn. “You are walking once more,” Midnight finally declared, apparently having settled upon adjusting to the simpler facts first. “You are also larger, and now have wings. Have you somehow become a false alicorn? I hope you do not become a twisted, horrible abomination against ponykind which must feed upon the souls of the innocent to sustain itself. That would be unpleasant.” “Indeed it would.” I do not know why my daughter has such morbid flights of fancy at times. Perhaps I should do something to address the matter at some point in the future, especially now that my new insights into her character and destiny would make it far easier to render aid in such matters. Fow now, however, other matters pressed. “I am no false alicorn, daughter, but a true one. ‘Twould seem I am to rule Equestria now, in Celestia's place.” Midnight regarded me flatly, her eyes slowly blinking as she considered my words. “So there was a coup? I am surprised; those usually involve far more violence, death, and bloodshed. Will you be executing traitors and mounting their heads ‘pon the walls of Canterlot soon? If so, I would ask that you inform me of where Gale’s head is to be placed, so that I might avoid it. E’en after the horrors of calisthenics, I do not wish to see her severed head.” “Neigh, ‘twas not a coup, and there will be no executions.” E’en if I had o’erthrown Celestia, I could hardly send Gale to the chopping block. My recent rapprochement with her aside, Shadow’s support or at least tacit acceptance would be required if I wished for a smooth transition of power, and removing Gale’s head would make that most difficult. My daughter stared at me unblinkingly, awaiting further explanation. “What has happened was more akin to a succession than an usurpation,” I explained. “Celestia has surrendered the Sun Mantle to me and acknowledged me as the Empress of Equestria.” Though she had not yet formally named me as her successor or announced her own abdication, such things were only a matter of time if the current state of things continued. Midnight cocked her head to the side, much like a bird studying a particularly interesting morsel of food.  “I do not understand. Why would she do such a thing?” “I am not entirely sure,” I confessed. I had attempted to seek out Celestia’s mind much as I had my daughter’s, but my efforts had proven quite fruitless. I suppose ‘twas no surprise she knew how to defend herself against her own abilities. ‘Twould likely be centuries before my own understanding of the powers that accompanied mastery of the sun could even begin to approach her own knowledge. “I think this seeming abdication is merely part of some grander scheme of hers.” I was briefly reminded of an old Unicornian legend, stemming from the days before the three tribes of ponykind found unity. One of the old kings learned of a prophecy that a terrible calamity would befall the king of Unicornia on a specific day, and thus arranged a temporary abdication so that one of his political enemies would hold the crown when doom struck the kingdom. Once the prophecy came to pass, the old king reclaimed his crown, and continued ruling in peace and prosperity. I wondered if Celestia might be in the midst of a similar scheme. It certainly explained her actions as well as any other thing I could imagine. Such an act would be most unlike her, though. Furthermore, if she needed an expendable fool, there was no shortage of ponies both more expendable and more foolish than I. Midnight sat frowning in thought, every bit as puzzled by Celestia’s actions as I was. “If there is some grander design at work here, then 'tis a scheme far beyond my understanding. Monarchs are not in the habit of abdicating unless heavily pressured to do so. Were this during the Rebellion I might understand, but as matters stand now...” “Just so.” I slowly spread and closed my wings as an excuse to think the matter over further. It seemed a worthwhile activity to work at attempting improve my intuitive grasp of where they were in relation to the rest of my body, and how they altered my balance. I suppose I would need to make arrangements for flying lessons as well—it seemed rather a waste to have a pair of wings I was incapable of using properly. More’s the pity that the matter of my wings would be far more easily addressed than that of Celestia. “I suspect that her motives might well elude me for many years to come. The only thing I am reasonably certain of at the moment is that her desire to see my wounds healed was genuine.” I tried as best I could to put the matter from my mind—’twas plain to see that I simply did not have the needed information to grasp Celestia’s motives. Until such time as I did, there little point in troubling myself further over the matter. “Regardless of her reasons, I now reign in Equestria.” “So you do,” Midnight acknowledged. “If you do not intend to purge all opposition and potential threats to your power, then what shall you do?” “I suppose I must see to an orderly transition, first and foremost. Then, the economy—we have yet to recover from the losses of the Rebellion, and I would not wish to see Equestria enter a long period of decline. ‘Tis all too common in the aftermath of war.” There were already many potential problems looming in Equestria’s near future, such as the loss of many of the best and brightest young magi to the fighting. ‘Twas part of why I had such high expectations of Midnight: the apprentices of her generation would need to achieve enough that Equestria would not suffer for all those magi who would never have the chance to create new magic and unveil innovative research. Once more my thoughts lingered on my daughter. It would seem that my confusion over Celestia’s actions was not the only matter that occupied much of my mind. ‘Twas all but impossible to forget what Celestia had unveiled to me regarding my treatment of Midnight. I felt a most unaccustomed degree of apprehension as I turned to her, and began to broach the subject. “I would have thy thoughts on my transformation, my child.” My daughter hesitated, and the most aggravating new sense of empathy Celestia had bestowed upon me forewarned me that she was attempting to find the answer that would be most pleasing to me rather than expressing her true thoughts. “I am pleased for you. You are now the sovereign of Equestria. Also you will now live, and I will not lose my mother. That is preferable.” “I am glad to hear that, then.” That small declaration of approval sent a tiny pulse of relief through Midnight, almost as if she feared that failing to provide the answer I desired might result in some punishment. My daughter was terrified of me. More specifically, the consequences of failing to meet my expectations. A difficult task, with how high I set them. I slowly settled onto the floor next to Midnight, attempting to make myself seem less imposing. Not an easy task, considering the massive bulk of my new alicorn form. E’en though my new body was quite trim and slender, there was just so very much of it. “Midnight, my child ... not only shalt thou have thy mother for many, many years to come, but I will endeavour to be a better mother to thee in the future than I have been thus far.” Midnight met my remark with a confused frown. “I am afraid that I do not understand, Mother.” I found myself experiencing some difficulty in finding the proper words. ‘Twas almost as if I were on the verge of being o’ercome with emotion. “I have not been a good mother to thee, my child. I shall do better, in the future.” Celestia’s teats, now I was all but repeating myself, I was at such a loss for words. ‘Twas difficult to think clearly when so many strange new emotions assailed my psyche. My daughter glanced down at the floor, one foreleg idly stroking the small white streak on her foreleg that marked the spot where my errant stone had stricken her. “What will that mean? Will things be different between us? How will they be different? There will be many changes, neigh?” She paused, her gaze now fully fixed on her fresh scar. “I hope that they will be good changes.” “It is my intention to ensure that they are,” I promised her. I hesitated for a moment, then slowly spread my forelegs towards Midnight, offering an embrace. It seemed the proper thing to do. “I cannot promise that I shall be a perfect mother to thee, but I shall endeavour to be a better one. Whatever else there is between us, thou art my beloved daughter.” Midnight stared at my opened forelegs for some time, then slowly entered my embrace, hesitantly placing her cheek against my chest. “What is to come of me now that you are the ruler of Equestria? Your new duties will keep you busy, will they not? Will you have time for me, or will I be given over to another’s care once more? Will we at least have time to play in the snow?” She paused, and then quickly corrected, “Have our training sessions together in the snow.” “My duties will consume a great deal of my time,” I conceded, raising a hoof to forestall any complaint on her part. “However, I will take the needed measures to ensure that I give thee the attention that a mother should grant to her daughter.” “That is good, then.” She nuzzled my chest, then slowly turned to face me, a hesitant smile adorning her lips. “Does your elevation mean that I am now a princess? Will I be placed within a distant castle, suspended over a lake of lava and guarded by a dragon who incinerates all would-be-suitors who would dare approach, whilst I watch the events from my tower?” She sounded almost disturbingly pleased by the idea. “Perhaps deadly puzzles as well...” As I often did when confronted by my daughter’s rather unusual trains of thought, I opted not to address the stranger questions, but instead focus ‘pon the simple and practical concerns. “The daughter of the Empress would be a princess, yes. Do not think that entitles thee to excessive privilege, or that thou shalt be coddled and waited upon by the castle’s staff to the point that thou art naught but a pampered foal. Though thou art my treasured child, there are limits.” Midnight let forth a resigned sigh at the news. “Aye, as it was when you were Grand Vizier and Archmagus.” There was an echo of sadness in her tone that stirred my heart’s strings in a most unexpected way. Ere I could give the matter any deeper thought, the words left my lips almost entirely of their own accord. “A few small allowances might be possible, however. I recall that thou didst recently request a cat.” Her ears perked forward attentively, and the barest hints of a budding smile appeared on her face. “Aye, I wish for a pet. I am still saddened that you did not allow me to retain ownership of the unkindness of ravens that once followed me home. Though I think I would have preferred a murder of crows, given a choice. However, absent either of those, a cat will suffice.” She once more cocked her head to the side. “May I choose its name?” Despite my better judgment warning against it, I answered affirmatively. “Naturally. ‘Tis thine own pet, is it not?” “My thanks to you, Mother!” The smile Midnight offered me in response to this news briefly gave me cause to be grateful that she usually contented herself with a small, barely perceptible upward turn in the far corners of her lips. My daughter’s smiles are ... rather unique. Midnight considered the matter for some time, then nodded and confidently announced, “I want to name her Queen Meowington Luna Selene Celestia Solaris of House Sparkle, Cat Queen of Cat Queens Ruling Over Cat Queens, Feline Above All Felines, Warden Against Pestilence and Vermin, and Pet of the Great and Wise Midnight Sparkle!” She briefly paused, then amended, “First of her name.” Her enthusiasm for the matter did her credit, at the least. Still, practical considerations should not be entirely overlooked. “Perhaps something shorter, for casual gatherings and ease of use?” Midnight frowned, clearly displeased by the request, and reluctantly allowed, “Though I would prefer that her full and proper name be used whenever possible, if pressed for time, she will also answer to Lady Whiskers.” “Very good then, my daughter.” I suppose one could say that we had made progress of a sort, at least. Celestia sought me out that evening. Or rather, what would have passed for evening, were it not for the fact that the sun’s course now lay in my hooves, and I was less than proficient in controlling it. I had already undertaken a cursory examination into the matter, but all that revealed was my own inability to grasp how I might control the motions of the heavenly spheres. No doubt I could unravel their workings given sufficient time—the unicorns of old had managed the task in the days before Celestia and Luna, and some of their knowledge was surely preserved. However, there seemed little need to dig through dusty old tomes when Celestia already possessed the knowledge I desired. Curious as it was to be an alicorn, ‘twas stranger still to see Celestia so diminished. She had been the one constant in Equestria for as long as I had lived. I suspect a large part of why so many ponies supported Celestia against the Rebellion was that they simply could not conceive of an Equestria where she did not sit upon the throne, eternal and unchanging. And yet, I had undone her. ‘Twas a frightening and humbling thing to realize. “Hail, Sunbeam.” Celestia offered a cordial smile as she entered the royal quarters. I briefly wondered if the rooms should be considered hers or mine, now. As Empress they were mine by rights, but she had lived in these rooms for more than a century. It seemed unspeakably rude to just summarily eject her the instant my status was confirmed. Where would she e’en go, now that I had taken the palace from her? It would not do to have the former ruler of Equestria bedding down in an alley like a common vagrant. Celestia calmly met my eyes, and in that moment I suspected that she somehow knew all my thoughts. ‘Twas a most unsettling thing. With the power of an alicorn and the mantle of the very sun itself I should exist on a level beyond her, and yet I felt e’en weaker and more foolish compared to her now. It simply was not the proper order to things. “I have come to instruct you in the raising and setting of the sun and moon.” She sounded entirely too serene in discussing the matter. There was no pain, anger, or regret when she spoke of her lost power. Just a calm acceptance. ‘Twas beyond unsettling. “Why?” I did not even realize I had spoken the word until it passed my lips. Celestia either failed to grasp the true meaning of my question, or chose to deliberately misinterpret it as a jest. She always did have a trickster’s spirit. “The movements of sun and moon are of vital importance to the maintenance of all life in Equestria. Without the cycle of day and night, the planet will—” A sudden mad fury o’ertook me, and I lifted the former princess bodily in my hooves, then forced her back against the wall. The impact caused the entire room to briefly tremble, and Celestia let forth a small, wordless gasp of surprise and pain. ‘Twould seem my physical capabilities had been greatly improved as well. “Do not toy with me, Celestia! You know of what I speak!” “By your will, Empress.” Celestia’s attempt to sound submissive was supremely unconvincing. Despite our relative positions, there was no fear in her eyes. Just a quiet, calm confidence. “If you do not wish to be instructed in how to raise the Sun and Moon, what topic shall we discuss? I am, of course, at your disposal.” “Do not grovel,” I snapped at her. “I’ve never cared for it, and from you it only seems a mockery.” I released her from the wall, and felt a most unaccustomed twinge of guilt as I saw her gingerly rubbing her back, where I had caused her to strike the wall. A moment’s thought brought a simple healing spell to mind, and I undid what damage I had caused. “I apologize for my outburst, Princess, and beg your pardon for it.” “An empress need hardly ask a princess for forgiveness,” Celestia answered me. “However, I thank you for it. Now, on to the more important matters before us.” I took a single calming breath, and tried to reorder my thoughts. “Why was I given the mantle of the sun, Celestia? Control over the moon was readily available, and you would not have needed to sacrifice your own immortality and power.” Celestia stepped aside, quietly setting to work gathering her personal effects from the royal quarters. She was so long in answering my question that I was near to losing patience with her when she finally spoke. “My sister’s mantle is not a cheap set of robes, to be bargained and bartered for. Nor will I use it to make right mine own errors. Your injuries were my doing; ‘twould not be fitting to surrender Luna’s mantle to make the matter right.” “I would prefer it.” I was surprised by how emphatic my words were. “Equestria would be better served by two empresses than one. There is no reason for you to surrender your immortality.” “Somepony must.” Celestia offered a slow, resigned shake of head. “Without the power of the sun or moon to sustain you, you will surely die. Only a precious few ponies will ever be born with the natural capacity to become an alicorn, and you are not among their number. There might be a means of o’ercoming that deficiency, but I do not know it. For the moment, there are three ponies who require a mantle, and but two mantles to be had.” “Your sister is mad, Celestia.” I felt my muscles tense in barely contained anger and frustration. “Have you so quickly forgotten the crimes of Nightmare Moon? Or the actions taken by her avatar in the course of the war?” “I have not forgotten what Nightmare Moon is responsible for,” Celestia answered grimly. “Nor will I allow those crimes to go unanswered. However, my sister does not deserve to have her power stripped away for Nightmare Moon’s crimes.” “But you deserve it for yours?” I demanded. “E’en I would say that betwixt the two of you, your crimes against me are nothing compared to the Nightmare’s crimes against all of ponykind.” “The Nightmare's attempt to overthrow me was ended ere she had the chance to cause any true harm.” A distant look passed through her eyes as Celestia thought back to old pains. “My sister's banishment was destructive, but mercifully swift and isolated. As for the actions of the Nightmare's Avatar, I am uncertain to what degree my sister is culpable for its wrongdoings. My actions against you were unwarranted, and o'erharsh. Nor were you the first; merely the culminating case. My—your little ponies—once thought me perfect. Some e'en still might. But I am far from such. The Rebellion would not have happened, had I ruled more ably.” “I likely did not help matters in that regard.” ‘Twas strange, but speaking thus with Celestia seemed to make it far simpler to be open about my own insufficiencies. Perhaps because she likely knew them better than I did. “If your flaws are such that you no longer deserve to rule, then what of mine? I am no less flawed, and if my raising of my daughter is any indication...” “You have already grasped your errors, Sunbeam. I have confidence that in due time, you will take the measures needed to correct them.” Celestia stepped forward, a gentle, almost maternal smile on her face. “I have faith in you, my little pony.” Her gaze flicked between herself and I, and a wry grin appeared on her mouth. “Though I might need to find a better endearment, in your case. ‘Tis more than passing strange to call you little when you are larger than I.” “I see no harm in allowing it.” In truth, ‘twas somewhat calming to see that her stature was one of the only things about her that had changed. Perhaps that demonstration of her enduring wisdom was what prompted the next words from my lips. “An empress needs a proper grand vizier, and I can think of nopony in Equestria who knows more about governance and leadership than you.” Celestia considered my offer for a few moments, then offered a nod and another faintly amused smile. “I did not have any other plans for my time, and I do wish to be of service to Equestria, even in my current diminished state. Beyond which, serving as such will allow me to keep a close watch on you.” A genial grin robbed her next words of the bite they might otherwise have carried. “If you should misuse the power I have granted you, I am still fully capable of reclaiming it. I would not wish to do so, for ‘twould mean your death, but if circumstances force the matter...” “I am ... surprisingly reassured by that.” At least Celestia was not so optimistically naive as to grant me control over Equestria with no potential checks against my authority. “Though I do wonder what shall come to pass once you are ... no longer among us.” The mere thought of Celestia’s inevitable demise, now that she had become mortal, was jarring. Celestia’s response was entirely unexpected: she greeted my concerns with a snort of laughter. “Really now, Sunbeam, you make it sound as if I am liable to fall over dead any moment now. I would hazard that I have at least half a century of life left in me, perhaps more. If I still have not redeemed you by the time my own end nears, I can always take back the throne, having allowed you a long and full life. I do not think that will be needed, though.” She stepped forward, wrapping her forelegs around me in a maternal embrace. “Star Swirl once said that the greatest test of a pony’s character was to grant them power and see how ‘twas used. I think you will be up to the challenge.” That was when everything fell into place for me. “I believe I understand what you meant, when you told me that we were not contending for the same goals. I sought power, while you sought to make me into a mare worthy of wielding it. However, the why of it still escapes me. Why sacrifice so much, just to redeem a single pony?” “Because one cannot put a price upon salvation,” she answered me. She offered another wry grin, and added, “Also, I once made a wager with my sister regarding the question of whether anypony could be redeemed. If she is ever restored to sanity, I fully intend to find some way of returning to life in order to collect the five bits she owes me.” “How is it that you are so at ease with this?” I could not comprehend how, within hours of losing her immortality, Celestia could casually jest about her own inevitable death. Celestia was silent for some time before finally answering me. “I have spent several centuries reigning over Equestria. Though it has been a long, difficult process, and I have made my share of errors, I would say that I have had a good reign.” Her gaze shifted to the window, and I noted that Shadow Kicker stood in the courtyard. Celestia’s gaze lingered on the mare, and I wondered if, now that the barriers of duty and station were no longer an issue, she might take action regarding their mutual longing. The former princess gave a single nod, and a content smile spread across her face.  “I think that now, I would like to have a good life.” Such is the tale of my rise to the throne. I needlessly wounded my daughter in an ill-conceived training exercise. I attacked my rightful ruler. I conspired to steal the power of the very goddess herself. I, quite arguably, murdered Princess Celestia to cement my own absolute authority. That she was at peace with her death, and lived what most would consider a long and rich life before dying, attended by her grandchildren, does nothing to diminish the enormity of my crime. However, all of these things pale in comparison to the most damning crime of all. That I can endure the guilt. Equestria has lost its princess, but its empress will not abandon it. I will watch over Equestria, and forge it into a great empire worthy of Celestia’s legacy. I will rule over my empire, and protect all of my little ponies. They will know peace, prosperity, and power beyond their greatest dreams. But first and foremost? I will burn this confession.