//------------------------------// // For Every Action, Something Something Opposite Reaction // Story: Journal of an Alicorn Clone // by Tired Old Man //------------------------------// Meanwhile, in the exact same castle but in an entirely different unwrecked tower (for now)... Far away in the Tower of the Sun, Celestia sat in a thick, cushioned red chair. Her horn shone faintly as the rest of the room appeared slightly blurry from where she sat. She smiled–silence truly was golden, and in her case, that was a bit literal as a light gold aura enveloped the walls, floor and roof, hushing the outside world. The only break in this barrier was a small hole, open at the main doors just enough to hear any knocking, and let her respond as necessary. She held a clean newspaper in a thicker golden glow–the Crystal Times. Her eyes scanned the front page headline. “Crystal Diet: Princess Celestia’s Secret to Success?!” Below the headline was a photo of ‘Celestia’ gorging on a corner of a crystal home with two very distraught homeowners off to the left side of the photo. A deep sigh escaped her lips, partly of irritation, partly of relief. At least the press assumed it was a new dieting trend instead of spinning it in a far worse direction. Of course they wouldn’t think it was a diet trend if they didn’t imply you were fat too, a small inner voice reminded. Celestia rolled her eyes in response before reaching for a cup of tea, a small slip of paper with the number 46 printed on it in bold black ink. A small smile returned to her face as she took in its minty, earthy aroma–soothing to the senses, just as Cuppa Joe promised this blend would smell, and presumably taste. Yes, all she needed was to bring it to her lips and take a sip, and today would go smoothly– “Sister!” Luna cried in alarm as she barged into Celestia’s room. “I bring grave news!” What was once a dry newspaper was now a tea-soaked mess held by a startled princess in an overturned, not-relaxing-whatsoever chair. And what was once a silent room shattered as the dampening spell broke as soon as she hit the floor. “Luna, knocking! We’ve talked about this!” Celestia shouted from under the chair. “My apologies Celestia, but I’ve heard a terrible disturbance in the castle!” “And–” Celestia slowly crawled out from under the chair “–what of it?” Standing upright, she took a small moment to replace her fallen crown and readjust her mane back to proper flowing condition. “I’ve already heard of at least four disturbances today: two from some distraught maids cleaning up the remnants of a hoof-paint fight, and another from the chef who swears they’ve triple-locked the cabinets to still find them empty. Just an hour ago Blueblood filed a complaint swearing I disrespected him by calling him ‘Ponce Blueblood’.” She paused. “Which is actually hilarious, but still inappropriate of ‘me’ to say.” Luna snorted, repressing a fit of giggles as she spoke, “Hehe… Be… Be that as it may, sadly I have a fifth incident to add to your woes.” “I gathered as much. What happened?” “You mean you didn’t hear?” Luna asked, her head tilted to the side. “No, I put up a sound-dampening bubble around the room, except for a small hole aimed towards the door so I could hear if anypony was knocking.” “Right. Of course. Ahem, it appears that the west wing had suffered a structural collapse just moments ago.” Celestia blinked, and her eyes shrunk. The West Wing? But that was… no, they wouldn’t dare mess with anything over there! I specifically lectured them to stay out of the west wing! And lecture she did. She had prepared a chart of relative anger to damage caused, pictures of fiery destruction drawn in crayon, and even hired a magician to make the explosions even more explodey with enough fireworks to almost set the classroom on fire. Which, in hindsight, was probably overkill. But she believed they used a real clincher: puppets! A complete reenactment done with sock puppets! She and Luna put so much effort into the acting, the carnage wreaked upon the cardboard building props! The clones gave them every last bit of their attention, clinging onto their words of warning! No room for doubt lingered that they knew by then that the west wing was off-limits to them! “Starswirl the Bearded’s wing?” Celestia asked, despite knowing full well that the answer would be... “I’m afraid so.” At first, nothing. One second, two, five, ten. Then Celestia crashed through the balcony doors, spreading her wings and blasting out of her tower at such speeds that the tower swayed slightly from the recoil of her launch. Casting her eyes down to the castle, she honed in on the spot where her greatest mentor and confidant had taught her about much of the world. And saw a caved-in pile of wood and rubble, scrolls and books scattered about in the debris. Witnessing the devastation before her, something began to bubble up within Celestia. The air around her began to dry up as that bubbling thing started boiling instead. Celestia had a name for this thing she felt. Anger was too simple; perturbed too formal. No, this was primal. This was rage. Pure rage. As Celestia not-so-gracefully descended to the wreckage, Luna barely had time to shout one question at her before she vanished from Luna’s vision. “Sister, do you want me to get Janitor Jenkins?!” “Tell him he’s going to need a bigger trash can!”