//------------------------------// // 1 - Sweet Celestia, Relax! // Story: Takes The Cake // by sunnypack //------------------------------// Chapter 1: Sweet Celestia, Relax! They say that the best cakes are made in Sugarcube corner, located in a not-so-sequestered portion of Equestria. That is not entirely true. The definition of a cake is loose in the Benny Bakery. All things of sugary goodness were available. Nopony knows what a ‘benny’ is, but ponies all agree that the delicacies that come from that restaurant could only be better if they were free. Perhaps fortunately, a pony would go broke before they could become the first case of cake overdosing. Regardless, though the pricing and membership would warrant the occasion a rarity, the Benny Bakery was highly regarded with an exclusiveness that would make even Blueblood jealous. Not surprisingly, Princess Celestia happened to be one of these members. Though even she in her vast knowledge did not know why she was chosen. Nopony did. Membership was attained through some unknown criteria. One day, a bluejay had appeared on balcony, just as she was about to settle in for a nap. The bluejay chirped her awake and cheerfully passed over a card made from a strangely shiny but slightly flexible material. The card invited Celestia to ‘partake in some cake’ at Benny Bakery. When asked, Luna told her she’d gotten no such card, and to her surprise nopony else in the castle had either. If the promise of a cake delicacy that could rival the greatest pleasures in the world was not enough, another curiosity persisted around the shop. There were rumours that the manager, the chef and the cleaner were all the same mysterious being. The counter was never occupied by a salespony and the owner seemed to trust the customer to honour their payments. A small box with a slot on the top was the sole feature in the cozy joint, apart from the numerous glass-panelled displays revealing delicacies to the perusing public. The only evidence that the shop was inhabited was the regular replacement of missing cakes on the gilded shelves. It was almost as if the place had been built as a mystery to be solved. Had they not been so adept at it, some of the ponies would have sworn that the store was magical in nature. Others had curiously conducted magical sweeps of the place, but to no avail. The shop was not magical, at least, not magic that they knew. Somehow the shop ‘knew’ if you were permitted entry. Carry your card and you were permitted entry, without the card, the doors would close faster than the Gates of Tartarus. Celestia had heard, in passing, that a pony had tried to get in on a borrowed pass. It worked once. Only once. From that day forth, the card never worked again. Needless to say, the mare whom the card had belonged to was distraught. It had taken several therapy sessions to return her to society. There was no other way to get a pass, other than to be given it. It could not be begged off, it could not be stolen, it was a card made for one pony and only a few, if any, were given out each year. Many ponies dreamed of the day a bluejay would alight on their windowsill. So Celestia treasured her card and guarded it with almost religious fervour. Even Luna had not been privy to the card’s location and Celestia shared secrets none with her reunited sister. Well, except this one. Come hail, storm or world-ending catastrophe of which Equestria was frequently visited, Celestia had noted that the store had persisted in opening to its exclusive members. It stood as the one constancy in the wild world, but cakes remained the spice of life in Celestia’s otherwise static schedules and meetings. Still, the shop had its allure and though Celestia was convinced that the shop housed no supernatural awe-inspiring being as some sort of cake-god... as had sprung up in certain cults. She believed that the entity inhabiting the store must be a force of good. For what being would be so evil as to create such sweetness? —————— “Celestia, sister, you promised!” There were frowning pouts. Fortunately, Celestia was immune. “Pleeeeeeeeease, sister?” Then again, no armour was perfect against a pleading sibling. “Oh alright,” Celestia grumbled, wearily rising from her warm and inviting bed sheets to join her excited sister prancing around the room. “You’re right, I promised.” “Yes thou did!” Luna replied smugly. “Time for thee to fulfil thine promises.” “Luna,” Celestia said. “You’re slipping.” Luna hesitated, then flicked a tail in dismissal. “'Twas intentional,” she replied nonchalantly. “I have control over mine words.”          “‘My’,” Celestia murmured, almost to herself.          “What?”                  “Nothing.”          Celestia peered at her sister with owlish eyes. “Now, I am yours for the night, or at least for a time.” She yawned. “Or until I collapse by your side.”          “'Twould not be the first time, dear sister,” Luna commented. Then she clapped her hooves together. “Time to show you what I have created.” Luna lead Celestia by the hoof as she practically leaped out of the castle room and yanked the befuddled princess to the balcony as she regarded the night sky. Celestia smiled her usual smile, a tight lipped curl of the mouth that made her eyes sparkle, like she was sharing a secret. Luna grinned back, chattering about the celestial alignment and tapestry that adorned the sky. “Over here is Polaris and this one is Nocturne,” she confided, pointing to spot in the sky. Celestia followed the hoof and her brow wrinkled in concentration as she tried to sort out the stars in the sky. “Nocturne?” she queried, her eyes flickering left and right, trying to find the star her sister mentioned. Luna bit her lip, her cheeks going a little rosy from embarrassment. “After a thousand years, I found a star,” she said quietly. Celestia though she must of been particularly tired because she couldn’t grasp the significance of the statement. Luna frowned at her sister’s expression. Her piercing gaze wandered past Celestia’s own, focusing on events not within the present. “We suppose that it would hath been difficult to remember, it has been longer for thee,” Luna mumbled. Her gaze snapped back. Suddenly she snorted. “It was a mere muse, nothing more.” That sent a prick through her heart. Celestia frowned, trying to cast her mind back to times bygone. A hoof scuffed the floor as void more than memory filled her mind. “I-I’m sorry, Luna, I can’t remember,” Celestia muttered quietly. She instinctively shied away, but Luna only looked downcast rather than angry. “Never thee mind, sister,” she replied, gaze distant. “It was a star to accompany the other. A dimmer star, perhaps, but always present under the guiding star. Always there to help a weary traveller, should the great star be eclipsed. Nocturne, We called it, a star darker but no less strident than her counterpart.” Celestia searched the sky below Polaris, finally spotting the dim, winking light of Nocturne. Even with her excellent vision, she had not been able to spot it, but Luna had. She doubted she could have found it, even with a telescope. Even now it flickered uncertainly, like a candle that could extinguish with a mere puff of wind. Luna shook her head. “But such things are behind us,” she declared with a savage shake of her head. “And naught more than a deep longing and more than a tinge of fear and regret. Such emotions do not suit those that are eternal.” Her gaze drifted up towards the sky. Celestia followed, hesitantly wrapping a wing around her sister. The only family she had in the world. “Yes,” Celestia whispered. “I think I could handle the opposite. An eternity of joy and happiness suits us.” ————— Celestia awoke with a start, wrapped in the warm sheets that adorned the bedding of the royal suite. She smiled, recalling the night. She was tired beyond belief, her joints ached and a headache throbbed, telling her in no uncertain terms what her body thought of the alicorn so sleep deprived. Though her ponies perhaps believed otherwise, she was as mortal as they and she suffered the same ailments that afflicted all those on the physical plane. Pain was as real to her as the sunlight blinding her through the windows. Sunlight? Sunlight! Her hooves scrabbled at the bedding as Celestia struggled to reconcile the fact that sunlight had somehow spawned in the sky without a conscious effort on her part. The experience was so foreign that she had trouble even processing the information. For a moment, she almost sent the sun back down so she could raise it again. Then it occurred to the tired princess that somepony had taken care of it. Knowing the situation, it was probably her sister. A sense of deep relief flooded her. Luna. Luna must have raised the sun. She yawned and glanced over to her desk. There were some reports to file, and documents to review before she would open court for the day. Trotting over and expecting to find the desk packed with scrolls and sheets of paper, Celestia reached the desk to find only a single sheet of parchment adorning her desk. I will take your duties for a week, Twilight may take mine. You need some rest. Regards, Luna Regards? Celestia shook her head and smiled to herself. Even in writing her sister tended to be so formal. She glanced guiltily at the doorway. Her sister could have troubles with the nobles… Would they try and take advantage of her sister’s ignorance? Celestia twitched when white feathers winged her vision. She glanced at her wings that had flared protectively. She bit her lip. Was she worrying too much? Her sister was a grown mare. She could handle herself. She took a step towards the double doors. She could duck in, just to check on her sister for a short while… With a decisive nod, Celestia headed to the door, her horn lighting up as she prepared to telekinetically prise open the heavy wood. Instead of the smooth sensation of a completed spell, her horn winked out and Celestia felt a tiny sting flicker down her horn. “Oww!” she muttered quietly. A rustle from her desk distracted her from trying again. Frowning, Celestia regarded the parchment on the desk responsible for the noise. Luna’s note folded itself up into a miniature figurine of Luna, complete with a flowing paper mane and a scowling expression only her sister could pull off. “Sister, We– I am disappointed in thine– your lack of faith in me,” Paper-Luna pouted. Its hoof pointed at the balcony. “If you must leave, it had better be through those windows and out towards Canterlot. I do not want to see you for a week.” “We’ll see about that,” Celestia muttered, her horn lighting as she prepared disable whatever spell Luna had put on the door. Another sting and watering eyes was all Celestia got for her troubles and she was doubly ashamed as Paper-Luna tittered and sucked her teeth in condemnation. “Now, now, sister. This is what is best for the kingdom,” she proposed, her voice pitched low. “You are dead on your hooves and stressed out.” There was a slight pause and Paper-Luna settled into a serious expression. “Sister, I’m worried. You haven’t been sleeping well of late. Perhaps what you need is a change of scenery?” “I’m fine!” Celestia snapped and her hoof flew to her mouth. Did she just yell at her sister? A paper figurine, but her sister’s avatar nevertheless. She glanced at the animated object, her facial muscles carefully arranged, but her eyes steeped with emotion. Paper-Luna frowned, confirming her fears that the conversation was indeed linked to real-Luna. Before Paper-Real-Luna… Luna could say anything, Celestia spoke in a soft tone. “Actually, I think I may need a break.” Luna smiled through the link. “Excellent! Thou shalt not regret it… I mean you will not regret it! Now be off! Come hither when your vacation time has expired. We have a kingdom to run!” Perhaps fortunately for Luna, before Celestia could comment on her sister’s parting statements, the paper figure crumpled into a speck and flared with green actinic light, disintegrating in mere moments. With a sigh, Celestia resigned herself to taking a break. A week out of the job. Could there be any worse circumstance? She sighed. Probably not. ————— Celestia found herself outside the mysterious cake store. She paced around the entrance for a good hour or so. Should she go in and indulge herself? There was nopony to see her do so. A furtive glance confirmed to her that some ponies already found it strange that the celestial ruler wasn’t in the castle, attending to Day Court. Celestia’s face scrunched up as she weighed the possibilities. She could visit Twilight, she supposed, but almost immediately discounted the idea. Without giving that mare some time, she would panic beyond all means. She wondered if the Crystal Empire was a possible vacation location… but it was too cold and the food there was all crystal based, a little too exotic for her tastes. Thoughts of food had led her inevitably to the fine establishment of Benny Bakery. A cake shop, relatively recent, but still possessing an air of mystique around it that was hard to dismiss. A local challenge. To decipher the shop without getting caught. She fought the urge to grin inanely. When was the last time she had solved a mystery? It must have been centuries… When she was a filly? No, it couldn’t have been that long… Her mind drifted back. Star Swirl, she thought sadly. Such a long time. Abruptly her ear flicked, her eyes snapping back to store. The door was framed by steel and was composed of thick glass. Celestia drew out her personal card from her jewelled peytral. Staring at the shiny card, she held it to the pulsing red light from the little black plating on the side of the door. With a cheerful jingle, the red light switched to green and the doors slid open, admitting the alicorn into the store. The sweet scent of sugary sweetness assaulted Celestia as she took in the menagerie of cholesterol-inducing heart-attacks sitting in their scrumptious little plated spots on the neatly spiralling shelves. The store had a strange alloy of sensations. A hint of muted austerity mixed with light-hearted yellows and whites that made Celestia pause at the entrance. Little did she know, she was not the first nor the last pony to enter as she did. Standing there, appreciating the impressional delights, Celestia revelled in the artistic flair as much as she did of each of the intricately conceived delicacies the shop featured. Of course she peeked at the wooden box in the centre of the store. It sat on its simple stand of wood, a tripod more suited as a coffee stand rather than a feature in the store. It was the only thematic-breaking factor in the otherwise perfect setup. Intrigued, Celestia approached the box. She had only visited this store once, in passing, before she had been dragged away to an appointment. She hadn’t the time to buy a cake, nor look at the shop in any detail, now that she had, she was glad. The setting had revealed more than her casual observation had in the previous visit. She licked her lips. She hadn’t brought any bits with her. Her ears wilted. All her bits were back in the castle. She couldn’t get back. Not that she hadn’t tried, on a whimsy, of course. Surprisingly, she had been checked by two swift-winged pegasi, bearing her royal crest. They informed her—uncomfortably she might add—that Luna had impressed upon them that ‘Princess Celestia was not allowed back until she was well relaxed. Give it a week, maybe two’. She could have ordered them aside, of course, but that would have left the poor guards in an untenable position with Luna. Still, it was an inconvenience to head back to the castle and retrieve the bits. Besides, she was a grown mare with adept magic. She could take care of herself. Her gaze drifted from the box to an eye-catching rainbow flash from the counter. No, she thought. No, it can’t be possible. Sitting, as pretty as you pleased, was a cake Celestia had thought extinct. The Seven Chocolate Cake. Indeed the Cake was fable, even among the highest culinary chefs in the world. Considered an artistic piece impossible to perfect, the cake was made from seven different types of chocolate, blended together as cake, layer, filling, cream and glaze, finished with a liquid centre and a wafer topping. It was a symphony of chocolaty decadence. She considered herself, a nervous gaze raking over her own body. Still in good shape, right? True, she hadn’t been moving around these past few centuries, but it wasn’t all that hard to apply oneself. Her gaze was drawn magnetically to the legendary delicacy. Her eyes were like a fly in amber. She bit her lip. Here was a once-in-an-alicorn-lifetime treat, right in front of her, and she couldn’t eat it! “You can have it.” Celestia almost let out an embarrassed nicker. She didn’t, because no royal pony did. And if you told a soul, she would hunt you down. “You can have it,” the voice repeated and Celestia was finally able to focus on the source of the voice. Tearing her gaze away from the legendary cake was no mean feat. When she finally registered who had spoken, she did a double take. The creature looked utterly alien. A mane adorned its head and the face looked like that of a monkey, except smoother and more expressive. It… He seemed to have a small crease near his lips, like he was constantly amused. He cocked his head, regarding Celestia, possibly amused at her blatantly rude staring. With a snap of her jaw she closed her mouth and fought the urge not to examine the creature further. “You can have it,” he prompted, for the third time. Celestia snapped herself out of the daze she’d sunk into. “You– thank,” she stuttered. She blinked, the slow recognition of what she had spoken turning her cheeks crimson. A melodious laughter filled the store. The creature, standing on its two legs like a Minotaur, bent down and carefully grasped the glass panelling. Sliding it aside he retrieved the Seven Chocolate Cake and placed it on the slotted wooden box. “There aren’t any chairs in here to enjoy it,” the creature continued. “So you’ll have to come out back with me. At least there’s a table.” The casual tone of conversation threw Celestia off as she struggled to come up with a response. Eventually failing to elicit one, her brain shut down and forced herself to follow the friendly stranger that composed the mystery of the Benny Bakery… and apparently knew how to make a legendary cake from three centuries ago. This, a scrambled thought drifted in her mind, is going to be interesting.