Mankind Triumphant - Relic

by Dafaddah

AD 2135 - Skinned Knees

Based on The Conversion Bureau: Brand New Universe Chapter 7: Mankind Triumphant

- Relic -

Chapter three: AD2135 - Skinned Knees

by Dafaddah

Author's note: When I first read Chatoyance's story it shook me to the bone. It scared me, it kept me awake, it affected me. When she invited others to submit stories around her TCB New Universe scenarios, I knew I could not refuse. I felt this story calling to me. Resistance was futile. So here it is.

By the way the chapters are not presented in chronological order. Yes, intentionally. But you can read them that way if you like!

Note: some of the text in part one is from Chatoyance's original story and is used with her permission. A parallel to Midnightshadow's story Shattered Worlds - Habeas Corpus is also intentional and has been cleared with the author.

---

Tia looked at the crushed remains of the caterpillar on the school desk. Tears streamed down her muzzle. Lulu stared at the desk in sudden, horrified understanding. The little foal's ears drooped. Tears welled up in her eyes and finally gushed over into a full-on cry. Hearing her little sister's sobs, Tia immediately wrapped her in a warm embrace of neck and wings.

"Now don't you cry too, kiddo!" The small white filly soothed her weeping sister. "It wasn't your fault. You didn't see the caterpillar when you put your bag down." She regretted how strongly she had reacted to the accident, propelling Lulu's slate and precious notebook from her desk in a blast of telekinesis. Too late! The thought echoed through Tia's mind. And it had obviously frightened the youngster quite badly.

"I didn't know! I didn't mean to kill it. I didn't..." Lulu's voice dissolved into more shuddering sobs. Tia held onto her sister, cooing softly, miserable that her impulsive nature had again led to even more pain for someone she loved.

Dexter entered the classroom, late as usual, swinging his schoolbag exaggeratedly. Sizing up the situation, he immediately started singing one of Lulu's favorite songs while pretending to dance really badly. After a minute of the ridiculous performance Lulu's smile finally broke through her blues and the fillies started giggling as the colt's antics got progressively sillier.

Spotting the insect remains on Lulu's desk, he froze mid-step and toppled to the floor in a tangle of mismatched draconequus limbs. "Is this bug what all this crying was about?" he enquired, raising a skeptical eyebrow. He proceeded to get up slowly. "Hey, if you're gonna cry make it worthwhile, like over spilled milk, or a stubbed toe, or a broken toy or something!" he assumed a scathing pose, and then winked at the fillies to let them know he was just kidding.

"A life is a life, Dexter, even a small one," scolded Tia, "but I may have overreacted a bit." Her ears drooped in shame.

"Isn't school boring enough without getting all serious? Come-on, let's play a game before the teacher gets here." Dexter started rummaging in his schoolbag, pulling out a skipping rope, a slingshot, a head of lettuce, and was in the process of pulling out an improbably long yellow and red striped pole when an adult voice caused him to freeze in mid-pull.

"Did you remember to put your homework in that bag, Dexter?" asked an old yellow unicorn stallion from the doorway.

Cringing, Dexter replied: "Yes, Professor Morning Bell. I did." The colt proceeded to pull a crumpled sheet of paper from the bag.

"Excellent! Perhaps you can put away your playthings while the young ladies take out their homework."

"Yes, Professor Morning Bell," replied the three youngsters in unison.

***

Celestia awoke with a start in the dark confines of the Treasure Chest, the images and feelings of her dream slowly fading in her perception. It had been centuries since she had last dreamt about her foalhood. Back when... Dexter was still Dexter. She had not thought about him as the truly joyous child he was in millenia.

When did I forget about that youngster whose only desire was to make others happy? She looked back over the very long span of her life. How easy it is to lose sight of the past, and simply drift onward in the sea of time, she berated herself. How important... no, how truly precious is our past.

She ruminated, thinking about the short and fragile lives of mortals, and how their memories died with them. Both mortal ponies and mortal humans attached so much value to artifacts from their lives and those of their parents and ancestors. In the case of the humans, many of these artifacts were electronic and were either destroyed or transformed by transition through the Barrier to Equestria. Was the fear of losing these things and the link they provided to the past the real reason why so many humans strongly resisted ponification? Did my solution take away too much of what they valued, destroying the legacies they wanted to leave to succeeding generations?

For the first time since she had resolved to save mankind Celestia questioned her Conversion Bureau strategy. She recalled one of the humans' sayings: The road to Hell is paved with good intentions. It resonated within her conciousness. And yet, here I am: in Hell.

She was still pondering her dismall state when she felt a tingling sensation. A wave of magic passed through her, and she felt the call of a newfoal undergoing ponification. Her perception shifted, and she found herself back in her castle, standing in a circle of light before her throne. She stood on two human legs, in the shape of a human child.

I cannot be seen like this! she thought horrified. She dashed from the dais seeking to hide behind the broken remains of furnishings in a corner of the throne room. Still clumsy at walking on two legs, she tripped and fell, crying out in pain as she tumbled down the steps, injuring an arm and a leg. Unused to pain in this body she gasped, and shook as she started sobbing.

"This... won't... do!" she murmured through clenched teeth, making a supreme effort to gather herself.

Attend to the injuries first. A large gash ran down one arm. She ripped a segment from her overcoat and tied it as fast as she could manage with her other arm. The bleeding stopped after a few minutes. She gingerly picked herself up, her clothes torn and sullied in the fall. I must look a fright. Just what a newfoal needs to see: a ragged goddess! She sighed.

Hearing footsteps approaching, she turned on unsteady legs. A young man approached. The newfoal!

Celestia looked into his face, and saw both bewilderment and compassion. I have no idea what to say! I have nothing to offer him! She felt shame at her lack of preparedness and impotence. Do not offer him false hopes. It would be kindest to say nothing at all. She limped as she tried to exit the throne room and fell onto the floor again as the injured leg refused to cooperate.

She stared up at the approaching man and wept in silent misery.

***

"Momma!" cried Tia.

She lay on the courtyard flagstones, weeping as crimsom drops fell from both of her skinned foreknees. It had been a very rough landing! Her mother appeared in a flash of light, enveloping her in broad wings.

She stared up at her approaching mother and wept.

"Oh, my sweet little pony! Did you hurt yourself?" Momma's voice wove around her and through her. Now the pain wasn't important, and neither was her embarrassment at the clumsy landing. All was right with the world, as her knees started to glow. Her mother bent down and kissed her foreknees one a time, and the pain was no longer even a memory. Momma smiled and said "There, there, sweetheart. All better!"

***

"Who... who are you?" asked the man.

"Please help me," whispered Celestia, showing him her haphazardly bandaged arm.

He looked perplexedly at her proffered limb. "I-I-I don't know what to do." He seemed genuinely sad. Celestia took pity on the poor human, no doubt still very confused from his forced conversion. Before, she would have know what to say. She would have known how to reasure and welcome the newfoal, she would have known what to do. Now, she was no better than a child herself. I am not a child, and at least I will not add to the man's fright.

It was time to reassure him that she was not severely injured, and leave. She had a sudden inspiration. "Kiss it all better? Mommy used to kiss it better," she said like child that was more frightened than hurt.

"My mommy did that too, sweetie," the man replied, and attemped to reassure her with a hug. "I can-" As soon as they touched Celestia felt a small portion of her magical power restored. It was not much, certainly not when compared to how powerful she was before her decapitation. But it was nevertheless much more than she had possessed since her awakening from that awful event. She knew that she could now control her presence in this man's ponification dream. She took a quick peek in the man's mind. Joss. She would remember and repay his kindness one day. And then she disappeared.

She watched from behind a screen in the opposite corner as Joss jumped up in surprise at her sudden absence. She observed as he climbed the dais and felt his joy as he plunged into the circle of light and truly became a pony, a member of the herd... of her herd. Feeling his presence in her conciousness, she basked in the light of his happiness, and amplified it as much as she could with her own. Next time, she would do better. Next time she would know what to say. Next time, she would not fail her new little pony.

***

Celestia imagined herself sitting with her sister in her favorite room of the castle, her study, with its large windows that let in the light of the sun. They reclined on large comfortable cushions, a cheery fire in the hearth, with sweet apple tea steaming in exquisite porcelaine cups set on a low table between them.

"I have an admission to make, sister," said Celestia.

"Oh? And what would that be?" said Luna

"It regards the humans. I fear I may have made a serious mistake."

"Really now?" Luna raised an eyebrow. "Do you mean that being a head in a box was not part of your plan all along?"

Celestia laughed. "Very droll. Perhaps I should quit while I'm a head."

"Not funny!" Complained Luna. She was not a fan of puns, a character trait that Celetia reveled in, to Luna's frequent annoyance. "Be serious now, what mistake did you mean?"

"I fear that I failed to understand how important to humans is the wish to have a physical legacy that survives their death," replied Celestia, serious again. "When I first came up with the plan to provide conversion to the humans, most of their cultural artifacts could be brought with them. I had not imagined that human science and technology would become so dependant on electronics, and that such would become the main repository of both their collective and individual histories." Celestia took a sip of tea.

"In these modern times, so much of a human's life and sense of self is tied to their online activities that to force them to leave these behind is asking them to commit a form of partial suicide. Many cannot even imagine how the pony who left all that behind could truly still be them. Others simply cannot let go emotionally of all the memories stored online. These data define their sense of identity as well as their hope to be remembered one day beyond death," concluded the Princess of the Day.

"I understand, or at least I think I do," said Luna gravely. "So what are you going to do now?"

"Now, I am the one who must change. These newfoals need help, and I must do what I can. But I sense something else is happenning. Some other agency is influencing the affairs of the humans, and I need to discover who it is. Perhaps they hold the key to understanding the events of that fateful day, and what happenned to Equestria, you and all my subjects..."

Celestia fell silent as she realized that she had been having a conversation with a sister who was not really there. The conversation had helped her crystalize her thoughts and begin to formulate a plan of action. But she was still disturbed at how real the conversation had seemed to her.

Alone in the dark, Celestia wondered how fragile both she and her sanity had become. Then, from somewhere outside of her box there was a glimmer. A wave of magical energy swept through her, raising her hopes and lifting her spirits: another newfoal was joining the herd.

This is not and will not be Hell. This is my domain, a land of happiness and harmony, and I will rebuild it.

This time she knew what to do, and what to say. This time, she would be ready.

In Canterlot Castle Celestia the human child sat on her throne, waiting for the newfoal, encircled in light.

Comments

[Chatoyance]

You have truly added so much to this concept, I love the way you portray Celestia in the Treasure Chest, it rings true for me, and has so much power.

You are doing a magnificent job.

[Midnightshadow]

I like this. I'm glad you feel my story is interesting enough to add to your own and I approve of where you're taking it - my own works may differ quite a bit, but I'm glad to inspire others. Keep on with this, where it takes you.

[shutaro]

In 2035 she is aware of Luna being imaginary. When she talked to Luna in chapter one (2100 A.D.) she did not appear to be. Either she has found a way to reopen a "channel" to Luna or she is losing it.