//------------------------------// // Georg's "Leaving The Nest" (Estelien's "This Is My Last Letter") // Story: Never The Final Word (Vol. 1) // by horizon //------------------------------// Princess Celestia lay stretched out in the Private Royal Gardens, a sheaf of correspondence laying unread at her hooves while she looked off into the distance at nothing in particular. The bustle and life of the gardens had always brought peace to her soul, even in that long agonizing time of Luna’s exile. And now, it continued to lift her spirits even when it felt like her heart was breaking worse than the nights when she would lift Luna’s precious moon up into the sky and feel the touch of insanity that had consumed her sister. The shrill cries of a mother bird rose loudest in this center of peace and tranquility, chirping and screeching at a smaller bird still stuck firmly in the nest which had been its only home since hatching. For most of the morning, Celestia had simply sat and watched, lost in thought as the mother tried every weapon in her arsenal to pry the recalcitrant little bird out of her nest and into the blue sky where she belonged. After one last encouragement, the mother bird flew away into the gardens, leaving the little bird to chirp hopefully in the undersized nest. It looked around, confident that its mother would return with food and love as always, but as the day wore on, the chirps became less confident and more hopeful, turning into a long mournful cry as the sun neared the horizon. Finally, the little bird left its comfortable spot, still filled with the warm feathers of her mother to peek over the edge of its home at the ground so far below. Several times it leaned forward, spreading its new wings hesitantly, only to retreat to the safety of the known and the familiar. Only as the setting sun wreathed the world in tinges of gold and red did the little bird leap out of the nest, wings spread wide and flapping with only instinct to guide it. Several branches struck it, making the bird tumble in flight before recovering, landing in a bush next to Celestia and her unread paperwork. “There you are, little one,” cooed Celestia, raising a hoof with a few small seeds on it, which the little bird pecked with great enthusiasm. “Fly, be free. Spread your wings.” After a brief examination of the hoof for unfound seeds, the little bird rose into the air again on uncertain wings, exploring this strange world beyond its nest. In the distance, Celestia could see the mother bird watching, and she felt a twinge of empathy at the same time her horn gave a short burst of power and a neat scroll landed in her lap. She opened the scroll, reading with no small amount of nervousness before putting it away and gathering up her letters. It would be a long night in her office tonight writing after she had put the sun to bed, but it was worth it. Her little bird had finally learned to fly.