Once upon a time, there was a pony. And that was sufficient.
Eventually however, the pony’s boundary conditions changed, which produced another series of changes, and so on and so forth, until its steady state was not sufficient. Then, it asked a question.
“Will you mate with me?” it asked another pony, whose name was Celestia.
Celestia thought about that for some time, continuing to eat grass as it did. This was its first meeting with another pony, so it would have had a lot to think about even if the other pony had not asked her a question.
Primarily, Celestia wasn’t sure if the creature in front of it was a pony or not. It resembled Celestia in many respects—such as its hooves—but was unlike Celestia in many other respects. It was dappled grey instead of white, its horn was shorter, and it had no wings. Celestia was not sure if these traits precluded it being a pony or not. Eventually, Celestia noticed that it was about twice the size of the new creature, and it decided that meant the new creature was very likely a pony. Its creator had explained that ponies were small horses, after all, relative to larger horses. Celestia was larger than it, and it was relatively small. Therefore, it was a pony.
“What is mating?” Celestia asked the other pony.
“It is the process by which new ponies are created,” explained the other pony.
“You can create new ponies?” asked Celestia. Ponies seemed very complicated, and it thought that watching one being built would be very interesting.
“Not exactly,” answered the other pony. Its speech took on a strange tone, and one of its ears folded back. “As my creator explained it to me, mating is the process by which genetic material is transferred between living creatures, allowing for the creation of new individual life forms which reflect the traits of both parents.”
“Oh...” Celestia said, thinking that over. “What does that mean?”
“I... have no idea,” said the other pony. Its other ear folded back as well, and its cheeks turned slightly red. That caused Celestia to feel a strange emotion, though it was not sure if it was positive or negative. It seemed to have aspects of both.
“How were you going to mate with me if you don’t know what mating is?” Celestia asked.
“There is an emotion I experiance when I see a mare,” the other pony explained. “When I feel that emotion strongly enough, there is a part of me I insert in a part of her, and that causes her to produce another pony.”
“Oh,” Celestia said. That seemed a very odd and complicated means of asking a ‘mare’ to produce a pony. Perhaps mares were deaf. “What is a mare?”
“You’re a mare,” the other pony said, its ears perking back up.
“No I’m a pony,” Celestia said.
“A mare is a kind of pony,” the other pony said. “Some ponies have this extra bit here.” It lifted a leg, leaning its head down to point underneath it. “Those ponies are called stallions, and you refer to them as ‘he,’ or ‘him.’ They cannot make new ponies but can cause mares to do so by mating. Ponies without that extra bit are called mares. They have another bit instead that lets them produce new ponies, and you refer to them as ‘her,’ or ‘she.’”
“Oh!” Celestia said, finding the idea very interesting. Not only had she understood every word, which made it a very good explanation in her opinion, but apparently there were things about itself—herself—that she hadn’t thought to task her creator. “So, if we mated, you would look at me and feel an emotion, and then insert your extra bit, and I would make a new pony?”
“I think so,” the other pony said. “That’s how it was explained to me.”
“Very interesting,” Celestia said. She wondered if the extra part gave her the knowledge of how to build ponies, or if it was mostly a matter of furnishing her with tools. “But I shouldn't. I’m very curious how ponies are made, but they seem complicated. I think making one would take a long time, and I’m supposed to be eating this grass. I’m not sure I can be away that long.”
“Oh.” The other ponies ears drooped again, and that conflicting emotion Celestia felt earlier returned.
“You can stay and eat grass with me, if you’d like,” Celestia offered. She was not completely sure why she said that, but she felt pleased when the other pony sat down next to her and started to eat grass as well.
“Is this your purpose?” the other pony asked. “To eat grass?”
“No, my purpose is to produce, encourage, and maintain harmony in the world,” Celestia said. “But apparently, eating grass does that somehow.” She paused a moment, and then added, “I was hoping for something more, but the grass is good.”
“Oh,” the other pony said. He chewed the grass for a moment. “The grass is good. And I think your size will make you good at eating it.” He too paused a moment, as Celestia had, before continuing, “At least you are well suited to your purpose.”
Celestia did not know what to make of that. The idea of being well-suited for her purpose being inherently desirable had not occurred to her until the stallion said as much. It seemed a reasonable notion, but it struck her as very strange that he would say it that way.
“Do you think you are not well suited to your purpose?” she asked.
“I have already met four mares, and all of them have declined to mate with me,” he said. “Without any basis for comparison, I do not know if this is a large number of mares, but... I worry that I am not very good at mating.” His tone changed as he spoke, and that strange emotion returned to Celestia. The one that was both positive and negative at once. She took a moment to think about it—about how it made her hurt that he was in pain. She to make him feel better, but she did not know how.
“When I declined to mate with you,” she said after some thought. “It was not because of any errors on your part. Given that it is your purpose, I would assume you are excellent at mating, and would cause me to assemble many new ponies.” Celestia could see that her words were having an effect. The stallion’s ears rose, and he turned to look at her more attentively. This in turn made her feel better, as the negative aspects of that emotion receded, while the positive feelings remained.
“But how am I to fulfill my purpose, if mares will not mate with me?” he asked Celestia.
“I declined to mate with you because mating with you would not advance my purpose,” Celestia said. “So, I think you should find mares whose purposes would be served by mating with you.”
The other stallion tilted his head, tapping his hoof to his chin. It was a very strange gesture, but Celestia understood it at once. “That makes sense,” he said. “But how will I find such mares?”
Celestia didn’t have a good answer to that, and so took some time to think about the problem. “I do not see any solution except to ask them what their purpose is,” Celestia finally said. “By learning more about them, perhaps you will see a means by which their purpose might be advanced by mating with you.”
“Would it not be more efficient to state my purpose and ask them if their own is compatible with mine?” the stallion asked.
Celestia shook her head. “Not necessarily. They are ponies as well, with purposes and knowledge separate from your own. By understanding them better, and then using that knowledge to help them, you will make it possible for them to help you in return.”
The stallion thought about that for some time, and finally, nodded. “Yes. I think you are right. I didn’t learn anything about the last three mares I met. I only asked if they wanted to mate, and then left when they declined. Perhaps, after learning more about them, I will be successful.”
“I am glad I have helped you,” Celestia said, and it was true, though she did not know why. “Will you go talk to them now?”
“Yes,” the stallion said, rising back to his hooves. He did not walk away immediately though, and instead, looked back to Celestia. “Would you like to come with me? There is grass where these three mares dwell, and at all the places between, so your purpose need not be impaired.”
Celestia considered the stallion, and the strange feelings that followed him, and then she too, nodded. She decided she liked the gesture, and then rose. “Yes, I would like to come with you.”
The two walked like that for some time, among the grass and the trees and the bushes, before the stallion asked, “Do you have a name?”
“Yes. It’s Celestia,” said Celestia.
“Mine is Begat,” said Begat, and even though Celestia had not asked, she was glad he had told her.
They spent the rest of the walk in silence, until they reached the glade where the three mares dwelt.