Downside of being Sandmare Number 1: No social life. Zip. Nada. If you’re lucky enough to have friends, then you’re never going to see them.
This first one is the one presently annoying Moon Shadow the most. As she recalls, Sweet Peaches is having a dance party this evening. And yet Moon Shadow is currently in a bedroom not her own, having an argument with a small child.
A small child, that if he so chose, could scream bloody murder and get her arrested. Moon Shadow really, really doesn’t want to be arrested. Again.
“You don’t look like the Sandmare,” the aforementioned small foal is saying suspiciously. Moon Shadow merely grits her teeth. If she gets done quickly, she might be able to stop by at the party before she has to go report to the Princess.
“I am the Sandmare,” she retorts. “Who else could I be?” The colt eyes her up and down, considering.
“You could be a pervert,” he says finally and Shadow promptly chokes from shock. Where do kids learn these words?
“A pervert?” she asks, indignantly, with a furious swish of her indigo tail. “Really? That’s the best you could come up with?”
“I don’t believe you’re really the Sandmare,” he says. “You don’t look like the Sandmare.”
“How would you know?” Shadow asks, through clenched jaws. “When have you ever seen the Sandmare before?” He shrugs.
“Aren’t you supposed to be…prettier?”
Oh, this brat is getting dreams of giant spiders from now until forever.
“What’s wrong with the way I look?” Shadow sputters. He tilts his head and hums. Shadow feels uncomfortable and somewhat annoyed under his critical gaze. She gets this enough from Canterlot nobles. Although, she shouldn’t be too surprised foals learn cutting remarks before they even get their cutie marks.
“Well, you look fine. Fairly pretty. But you’re kind of a weird colour. And if you’re the Sandmare, shouldn’t your mane be made of glowing stars and celestial wind?” he says, with the absolute conviction of small children who believe every story their mother tells them.
“You’ve been listening to too many mare tales,” Shadow retorts. Not for the first time in her life she curses the existence of Mother Bumpkin’s stupid book.
“I just thought your fur would be…more of a mystical colour than that. With wings. Aren’t you supposed to have wings? In the stories my mom tells me the Sandmare has wings, so she can fly all over Equestria.” At the end of this speech, the colt nods decisively as if to say ‘so there!’
“No, I don’t have wings,” Shadow says wearily. “I use magic to travel over Equestria. It’s worked pretty well for me so far. And I’m so sorry my fur is a disappointing colour to you!”
“It’s nice,” the colt consoles. “But it’s not what I pictured.” Shadow sighs. She really needs to knock this kid out and move on. It was probably her fault in the first place, waking him up by climbing through the window. But the spell she’s supposed to use wouldn’t work, again. It’s an old spell, used by Sandmares for generations and it’s supposed to turn her into mist at will, easily slipping in and out of bedrooms without ever being seen.
But even after all these years of being Celestia’s apprentice, she still can’t get the hang of it. So she’s climbing through windows again.
“I know,” Shadow says.
“You’re not unattractive or anything.”
“Good to know.”
“But you look a little like a pumpkin.”
“Thank you for that.”
“Your mane doesn’t really go either.”
“When did you become a styling expert?! You don’t even have a cutie mark yet!”
“You just don’t look like a Sandmare,” he says bluntly, after having thoroughly trashed Shadow’s self-esteem. “You look…normal.”
Normal, huh? Well, he’s the first pony to think so.
Moon Shadow sighs. She’s never going to make the end of the party. She could be a normal pony, with friends and a coltfriend and a job where she sleeps at night, like everypony else.
No, she has to go get a ‘destiny.’
“Ok, kid, time to sleep,” Shadow announces. “I have work to do.” The foal narrows his eyes at her, suspicious again.
“I’m not going to sleep with some strange mare in my bedroom!” he protests.
“Well, it’s good that your parents taught you that but you don’t really have a choice,” Shadow says, sweetly. “Good night.” Her horn lights up with a spell that is familiar to her as breathing and the foal stops mid-complaint and his eyes droop shut. Shadow nudges him into a more comfortable position and tugs the sheets back over him.
Ok, so the name ‘Sandmare’ is a bit of a misnomer. She doesn’t actually bring sleep to everypony. They do that bit by themselves. Sometimes she helps things along a bit: like when newborns are driving their mothers to distraction or a young filly is worrying about a test the next day. Then she gives them a bit of a nudge with her magic, allowing them to drift off and get the rest they need.
But mostly, her job is dreams. Watching them, guarding them and creating them if need be. And it’s rough. The wellbeing of Equestria’s dreamers rest on her shoulders every night. All the way from Roam to the inhabitants of Canterlot Castle.
Shadow eyes the sleeping colt, as he begins to softly snore.
‘Time for work’, she thinks grimly.
Number two: Your internal clock is all screwy (made worse by Celestia’s sudden change in meeting times)
It is nearly dawn when Moon Shadow is finally finished. She longs to go home and crawl into bed but Celestia is no doubt already awake and preparing to raise the sun. As soon as the sun is in the sky and the day begun, Celestia will expect Moon Shadow to be waiting in her private rooms for their chat.
Once upon a time Celestia used to have meetings with Moon Shadow once a month, at dusk before Shadow started work. But not long ago, Celestia requested that they meet once or twice a week, at dawn, with no explanation for the sudden change.
‘Wise and gracious ruler, my flank,’ Shadow thinks grumpily as she makes her way towards on the castle, on aching and slightly unsteady hooves. She’s tired, sore and hasn’t eaten since yesterday evening. To not mention, she got spit up on by some foal in Fillydelphia.
The streets of Canterlot this early are pretty much silent. Normally, Shadow would appreciate a few quiet minutes to admire the beauty of her home city with a leisurely stroll, maybe even a quick stop at Sugar Rose’s bakery for a cupcake. But right now she needs to give a quick report to the Princess so she can go home and get some sleep.
The guards at the castle let her pass without so much as an eye flicker in her direction. She has been in and out of these gates constantly since she was a foal. Shadow nods politely to them as she passes and hurries through to the kitchen entrances. Maybe she can sneak some breakfast.
The kitchen night staff has retired by the time Moon Shadow hobbles into the kitchen, and the day shift is only just started to wander in, as bleary-eyed as Moon Shadow herself. Cupcake – a baker – nods to Moon Shadow as she passes and gestures towards some apples out on the counter. Clearly Cupcake is making apple pie today.
Moon Shadow quickly takes two and mouths her thanks to Cupcake before sliding out the door. As she trots through the halls she devours the apples, grateful for the sweet juiciness running down her dry throat. Work never used to drain her like this. Stepping into the dream world seems to be more tiring these days.
'Or maybe I’m getting older,' Moon Shadow thinks wearily, as she climbs the stairs to Celestia’s tower.
She crunches the last bite of her apples as she reaches the corridor to Celestia’s rooms. The guards outside the door don’t move an inch until she stands face to face with them. Then Quicksilver ignites his horn and the door swings open with a glow of yellow magic.
“Presenting Lady Moon Shadow,” he intones. Moon Shadow slithers through the gap and the door shuts with a clang behind her.
The room in front of her is Celestia’s private dining chamber. This is where the princess usually eats her morning meal and studies the papers, before her day properly begins. The room is sparse but welcoming, with a clean table and soft cushions for the princess and any guests she may have. As is every room within the castle, the area has many windows, perfect for letting in the warm morning light.
“Good morning, princess,” she says to the figure sitting at the table.
“Good morning, Moon Shadow,” says Celestia, levitating a cup of tea to her lips. “Would you care for some breakfast?”
Moon Shadow eyes the table of breakfast treats greedily.
“I really shouldn’t…” she hedges. The smell of blueberry waffles drifts past her nose. The apples suddenly feel like they’re rattling around in her empty belly.
“Just a waffle?” There’s a glint in Celestia’s eyes. They go through this charade every time they meet.
“I’m sure I could manage one waffle,” Moon Shadow agrees and sits down opposite the ruler of Equestria.
Raspberry Conserve, Celestia’s breakfast server, hurries to pour some tea and levitate some waffles onto a plate for Moon Shadow. Shadow piles her plate with fruit and syrup and hastily digs in.
“Thank you, Raspberry, you are dismissed,” Celestia says quietly. Raspberry bows and retreats. Only when the doors have safely shut behind her does Celestia speak.
“How was your work last night, Moon Shadow?” The Princess tops up her teacup and spoons in sugar while waiting for Shadow to finish her mouthful.
“Quiet, I guess,” Shadow shrugs, stopping to take a sip of her own mug. “I had a small run in with a colt though. He woke up when I climbed through his window.”
“Still no luck on the wisp spell?” Celestia asks, with a small frown. “I know it’s highly unlikely that anypony will believe the stories of foals but you constantly live with the risk of being caught.”
“No,” Shadow sighs. “No luck.” The wisp spell, in all honesty, is not an easy spell. Shadow has been training since she was tiny to master it...but no such luck. As the Sandmare, she should have no trouble casting it. But most of the time all she can manage is to turn the tip of her tail into a small, dark cloud.
Celestia looks carefully at her ward and puts down her teacup.
“Well, I’m sure it will come to you in time,” Celestia says, calmly. “Was there anything else to report?”
“No, just that,” Shadow carefully moves the last bite of waffle around her plate to gather up all the syrup before placing it in her mouth. “I had to tell him I was the Sandmare so he wouldn’t scream. I know that’s against the rules but…”
“You mustn’t tell anypony you know about your secret life,” Celestia says, with a small smile. “But I doubt that anypony is going to believe that young colt about the Sandmare appearing in his room.”
“I put a sleeping spell on him anyway,” Moon Shadow says, looking mournfully at her empty plate. That waffle vanished rather quickly. “He might not even remember it happened.”
“Would you care for another?” Celestia asks, gesturing at the tray. Moon Shadow wavers but declines.
“Thank you, Princess, but I’d rather go to bed now if you don’t mind.”
“Of course,” Celestia agrees. “Send my love to your mother, won’t you? Her zap apple-elderberry tea was delightful.”
“I’ll tell her,” Moon Shadow says, getting up from the pillow and stretching her legs. “Thank you for breakfast, Princess.”
“I’ll see you next week,” Celestia says. “Any requests?”
“I’m sure oatmeal and dandelion yogurt wouldn’t be turned down,” Moon Shadow says with a smile. She’s pretty sure that Celestia having her favourite foods waiting for her for their meetings is Celestia’s way of apologising for the extra meeting times.
She’s about to open the door and take her leave when she hesitates.
“Moon Shadow?” Celestia asks gently. “Are you certain nothing happened tonight?”
“No, nothing out of the ordinary,” Shadow says. “It’s just...that colt told me I couldn’t be the sandmare because I look too normal.”
“Well, children will believe with fairy tales,” Celestia says, with a small shrug. “They believe in dream dust falling from her mane and travelling on wisps of cloud and alicorns weaving dreams.”
“Yes but...” Moon Shadow struggles to find her words. She’s not sure they’re ones you can tell to an immortal goddess.
“Sandmares have always been like you, Moon Shadow,” Celestia says softly. “Normal fillies. But no one knows that. They expect the magical, mystical and impossible.”
“And instead they get the mundane,” Shadow sighs. The colt’s comments are all too fresh in her mind. She understands though. Powerful, legendary figures like the Sandmare aren't supposed to have pumpkin-coloured fur, an overgrown mane and a sharp tongue. Celestia chuckles, shaking her head.
“I doubt very much you are ‘mundane,’ Moon Shadow. But it’s alright to want to be normal. Many of your predecessors had the same wish. Speaking of which, how did you get on with the journal? Had you added anything in it yet?”
Shadow shifts guiltily on her hooves. She’s not sure how to tell the princess the pages set aside for her are still as empty as they were when Celestia had given her the book. Celestia had seemed so proud to hand her the large bound book that had been passed down for generations, finally deeming Moon Shadow old enough and wise enough to read her predecessors' stories and then add her own knowledge. For weeks, it has been taunting her, just waiting to be filled with something meaningful and heroine-like, to inspire future generations of Sandmares, as all those before her did. Hundreds of her predecessors wrote down their thoughts and advice. It was meant to advise, instruct and inspire the next in line...and all Shadow had in mind was Downsides of being a Sandmare (as written by Lady Moon Shadow, Sandmare, ward of Princess Celestia, Architect of Dreams and Bringer of Sleep.)
Although, if she wanted to write that, the list of downsides of having a great destiny would fill up a whole book to rival ‘Mother Bumpkin’s Book of Mare Tales and Legends.’
For starters, as the Sandmare you’re actually in ‘Mother Bumpkin’s Book of Mare Tales and Legends.’
She’s still not even sure she wants to write anything in it. Anything she has to say would not comfort or help the mare after her. Generations of Sandmares have already said all there is to say. If Moon Shadow wanted to help her successor, she’d be better off making an index. Feeling lonely, look at the entries of Galaxy, Dancing Butterflies and Blazing Comet. Wanting a normal life, see Wishing Dust, Glory and Star Bright. And for the bonus round, Nova has a brilliant method of getting foal spit out of your mane. It’d make things easier than searching for a piece of advice out of a thousand years of Sandmares.
“Not yet!” Shadow says nervously. “I'm still thinking. I don’t really want anything that’s already been said, you know?”
“Of course,” Celestia says. “I understand. You’ll find your own special words to say in your own time.”
She could just write ‘Don’t be a Sandmare, EVER’ on her page. That sums up what she’s feeling pretty well.
“I expect so,” Moon Shadow lies. “I should get home to bed.”
“Good night, Moon Shadow,” Celestia says, with a twinkle in her eye. Shadow has the unnerving feeling that Celestia knows that Shadow was lying through her teeth. Somehow she always knows.
But Shadow’s not a very good liar. She’s been told. Many times.
Moon Shadow bows to the princess and trots out of the door. The guards don’t even blink as she passes by. As far as they’re aware she’s just a night court representative, updating Celestia on matters of state.
Moon Shadow returns the way she came, down the stairs to the main castle. It looks to be a beautiful day, but Shadow won’t get to enjoy most of it. She usually sleeps until well past noon and wakes several hours before the sun goes down.
Just another joy of being the Sandmare.
Moon Shadow chews her bottom lip morosely. She’s read and reread the tome so many times before, searching for answers. But she’s never found any. And if Galaxy ever did, she didn’t write them down. Neither did Stardust or Sky Wishes or Bellaluna. Generations of Sandmares…and not one of them ever knew. Why they were chosen. Why their destinies were so hard. Why they were so alone.
Maybe one day she’ll know what to say, that might help her successor. But that’s not today.
Shadow slumps a little bit as she strolls down the hallway. If she goes out of the west entrance it’ll put her at a five minute walk away from her apartment building. She can be home within ten minutes and can see her mother before she collapses into bed.
She’s just so tired today. Her hooves feel unusually heavy and her bones feel like they’re aching. She’s so focused on moving her feet that she doesn't really hear the voices at the end of the hall. It’s lucky that she looks up and sees them before they see her.
Her feet turn out to be less tired when she needs to fling herself down a side corridor and cower behind a suit of armour.
Because heading her way is the brightest and best, Celestia’s own personal student, Twilight Sparkle.