Day Break

by Chicago Ted

Fleeting Flames

What to do, what to do, what to do. . . ? This single, three-word question occupied Celestia’s mind as she left the hall, looping back upon itself repeatedly, as she sought an answer.

Numerous delegates were queued up in front of the hall as Celestia passed by, yet she never addressed any of them. Not a word nor a glance. They started looking towards one another, a low whisper amongst them, as they formulated various hypotheses as to why she will not speak with them. One gryphon near the front of the line, one who looked like he had been waiting for nearly a year for this moment—now apparently had to settle with her Staff. His face was a conflict of emotions—disappointment, confusion, and sadness all faced off against one another on a facial battlefield.

Among the hushed comments heard within the queue, Celestia heard such things as “Has she lost her mind?” “Now who’s gonna help me?” “Of all days, it just had to be this one!” “She had better have a good reason to walk off the job.”. Before she could address their concerns, the hall doors opened once more, with Raven prepared to face the crowd.

“We apologize for the delay,” Raven announced. “Princesses Celestia and Luna shall not be serving in court on this date. I shall act in their steads, and any grievances that you have shall be addressed to me instead. If it is necessary for Princesses Celestia or Luna specifically to hear you, you are welcome to reschedule your appointment, and be placed at the head of the line.”

To Celestia’s relief, only one or two delegates walked off. As hard as it was for her to admit it, it felt nice to her to have an oversized burden lifted off her back. But then she realized that she was still amongst the crowd, so she quickened her pace to outside the castle—to the sizable garden outside.

Cloudsdale had decided to leave Canterlot alone on that date, so there was absolutely no precipitation of any kind. Hardly a single cloud in the sky to cloak her gilded orb from the view of all Equestria. A hot, bright ball of fire, shining down upon the ground—much like the flicker of flames that darted away into the thick of a tree.

Celestia watched it carefully. Then, slowly, carefully, she approached the tree, her eyes alert, taking in the surroundings for whatever may be amiss. To the left—a flat, grassy part, meant for a picnic, if she so desired. To the right—an abundance of rosebushes, all in full bloom, in colors stretching across the spectrum. Just as she approached the trunk of the tree that caught her eye, that fleeting flame darted away again.

Despite her quick glance, she could track it to its next location, but could not identify what it was. This time it had ducked into a tea house. Celestia followed it there, cautiously, though now, judging from an amused smirk and a raised eyebrow, she had an idea as to what—or whom—it could be.

Just as she approached the doorway, her suspicions were confirmed—a fiery phoenix popped out of the tea house just as quickly as it came in, then perched itself upon the roof. “Philomena!” greeted Celestia. “Up to your old tricks again, I see?”

Philomena responded only with a few coos, accompanied by a shake of her head. Then she dropped an advertisement, one that appeared to have been sloppily clipped from a newspaper—probably the Canterlot Chronicle—singed along the edges by her plumage:

SPECIAL OFFER - ONE DAY ONLY

Come and relax here at the Iridescent Lotus Spa! Renown throughout Equestria, we were selected as Best Spa by the Canterlot Chronicle ten years in a row! Our staff will make sure you leave feeling better than when you come in!

1-Hour Steam-and-Rub - was 250 bits NOW ONLY 150 BITS!

It’s simple math - 1 30-minute session in a steam room to warm up your muscles plus 1 30-minute session with one of Equestria’s best masseuses equals 1 relaxed, freshly-rejuvenated customer!

ONLY at the IRIDESCENT LOTUS SPA!

Coupon must be presented at time of purchase. Not valid with any other offer and cannot be used in conjunction with any gift certificates. One use per client. Taxes not included. No cash value. Void if copied.

“Hmm. . . .” Celestia’s eyes narrowed at the advertisement. “Interesting find, Philomena,” she commented. “Is it still valid?”

The phoenix nodded. Then she spread her wings and took off, leaving a trail of sparks and flames in her wake, soaring towards a gate at the far end of the garden, one that lead out to the streets of Canterlot. She then outstretched her right wing, indicating whatever laid beyond the wall.

In all the time that the two spent together, from the time that they met, she knew that this signaled only one thing. Philomena wanted her to do something very specific, albeit simple:

“Follow me!”

With graceful hoofsteps, Celestia approached the gate, taking care not to run through the sharp rosebushes. She opened the gate with her telekinesis, then set down upon the path to the spa. Philomena flew on ahead, to indicate where Celestia was to turn next.

Along the way, Celestia noted the sights and sounds that composed, even defined, Canterlot. A lone carriage careened down the cobblestone-paved lane, turning right at the next intersection. A tea-shop hosted several customers outside. Doves white as the clouds above flew in flocks overhead, startled by a young, curious filly chasing them. Her mother managed to reel her back, though. And Philomena, perched upon a lamppost, had her left wing outstretched, showing her to turn right onto that road—an instruction Celestia heeded and obeyed. Once she turned, Philomena again flew ahead of her.

Here, along this street, an earth pony stallion at a newsstand was shouting out the various periodicals that he carried: “Every single paper, all in one place! You heard it right, folks, they’re all here! Manehattan Times, the Dodge Cherry-O, the Tourmaline, Ponyville Daily, the Sun, the Moon, you name it, we carry it! And our very own Canterlot Chronicle! ‘If it’s true at all, it’s the Chronicle!’ Special edition, just released not two minutes ago! Exclusive coverage: Princess Celestia, walking off the job? Yes, it’s true! It’s—” He stopped when he saw that very same Princess Celestia walking down the street.

“Carry on,” she said.

“Right!” He picked up a copy of the Chronicle, waving it around, and started shouting his wares once more: “Come one come all! Read all about it! . . .” His voice soon faded out into the ambience, as Celestia wandered over to where Philomena landed. This time she had no wing outstretched, indicating that this was the final destination, the Iridescent Lotus Spa.

“You can wait out here, Philomena,” she said. “It’ll only be about an hour.” Philomena’s sole response was to nod, then to maintain a strict vigil. In just a moment, other than her color, one would think that she was part of the building.

Celestia then entered the spa. A small silver bell hanging over the doorway rang when she opened the door. A lone receptionist, trained to respond promptly at that sound, said (what sounded like from rote memorization): “Welcome to the Iridescent—what! Princess Celestia?” Her mouth hung open, almost to the countertop. Her eyes remained fixed open, trying to make sense of the being in front of her. Of all ponies. . . why Celestia? Shouldn’t she be busy with something much more important regarding the fate of Equestria?

“Yes, it is I, Celestia.” Her voice rivaled that of Æolus, in an attempt to soothe the receptionist’s nerves.

But, alas, that did not work: the receptionist was overflown with offers of the best in-house treatments, from ayurveda-based treatments to a thorough hooficure and several others—the lot of them for free.

Celestia, however, simply gave them the newspaper cutout. “Thank you kindly, but I just need this,” she said.

“Very well.” The receptionist started making a few notes in her schedule. “It’s on the house, Your Highness—our gift to you!”

“No, really, that’s not necessary,” Celestia rebutted. “I’ll pay for it myself.”

The receptionist paused briefly, trying to get sense of what she was hearing. Princess Celestia, Goddess of the Sun—as any other customer? “Well, if you insist. . . spa policy states that any sessions must be paid for in full before they begin.” Her voice had grown lighter, and she had stuttered in places.

Celestia calmly counted out one hundred and fifty bits and deposited them upon the countertop. “And there you have it.”

The receptionist looked visibly relieved by Celestia’s reaction and demeanor. “The steam room is down the hall and on the right,” she told her.

“Thank you.” And with that, Celestia disappeared through the doorway.

One colt and his mother, seated in the waiting-room, awaiting their treatments, looked to each other in total confusion.

⁂

Four other ponies, the lot of them unicorns, were also relaxing in the steam room. All of them had towels covering their faces, so that they couldn’t see a thing, but they could still hear. For instance, they heard the door open, feeling the blast of cold air as the temperatures mixed, along with several hoofsteps making their way to one of the benches, then wooden planks creaking as a pony’s weight was applied upon a bench.

“Who was that?” one of them asked.

Celestia looked around. None of them saw her; otherwise, they instantly would’ve recognized her, and would’ve reacted accordingly, something she didn’t want them to do. But then, if they could only use their other senses, perhaps she could exploit this. She silently and quickly cast a spell that modified her voice—she still sounded feminine, but nopony could recognize it as hers. “Just somepony,” she lied.

“I’ll tell you one thing,” one of the other unicorns said. “You heard of Rarity’s new boutique in Manehattan? Heard who was managing it?”

“No, I haven’t,” said a third. “Whom might that be?”

“Remember Suri Polomare’s assistant? What was it? . . .”

The fourth unicorn chimed in: “Pommel! Yes, that’s it! Coco Pommel!”

“Right, right. Well, she’s the one in charge, in Rarity’s stead.”

“How’d she even meet Rarity in the first place?” asked the first unicorn.

“There was that one Fashion Week a few years back, and it turned out that Suri had stolen Rarity’s designs. Crazy, right? Well, somehow the judges found out about that whole thing, and Suri had to suffer a most humiliating debacle. Coco left her right after that.”

“Well, somepony likes to keep up with the gossip.”

“Of course, Fleur-dis-Lee.” The first unicorn must have been Fancy Pants. “It keeps me from getting bored, and besides, it generates some interesting talk.”

“Well, here’s some interesting talk!” said the third.

“Do tell, Jet Set.”

“You all heard about Celestia leaving the Castle? The Chronicle picked that up. Apparently, it’s some ancient law or other, but she’s actually not allowed to hold court today. Her staff’s managing it though.”

“I saw a few delegates walk out on the whole thing,” said Upper Crust. “They’re just upset that they couldn’t see the princess. Which reminds me. . . I wonder what she’s doing.”

“I’m sure it’s a mystery for all of us,” said Fleur-dis-Lee.

With her modified voice spell still in place, Celestia spoke up: “You might be surprised, actually. She wants to hold court today—she really does. It’s a shame, really.”

The four of them nodded. “Uh-huh!” agreed Fancy Pants.

Again the door opened—this time it was one of the spa ponies. “Fancy Pants? Fleur-dis-Lee? Jet Set? Upper Crust?” she asked. “It’s time for your massages.”

“Has it been that long already?” Fancy Pants leapt to his hooves, taking his towel off his face as he headed to the door. The other three followed suit. Just before she left, Fleur-dis-Lee looked behind her to see who that fifth pony was. What a shock she got when she saw that Celestia was basking in the steam.

“Princess?”

Celestia’s spell then failed, no longer needed at this stage. “Yes, I’m Princess Celestia,” she responded. “How are you today?”

“Please, forgive us!” Fleur-dis-Lee threw herself onto the floor in a solemn gesture of respect to the being who brought forth the daylight. “Had we known you were with us, we wouldn’t have been so rude!”

“Do rise, Fleur-dis-Lee. You and your friends were being honest, and that’s much more important to me than respect.”

“Thank you, thank you!” Fleur-dis-Lee then took her leave, to rejoin her friends. Celestia, meanwhile, remained within the steam room for some more time—her massage came later.

⁂

It was evident when Celestia left the Iridescent Lotus Spa that Philomena had not remained perfectly in one place for an hour. Instead of atop the building, she was perched upon a streetlamp, with another newspaper clipping in her beak. When Celestia came close, the phoenix dropped it, and Celestia caught it in her telekinesis. She brought it to her face to see what it was. Another advertisement, also clipped from the Chronicle, this time offering a different service:

Do you, the reader, want what’s great to eat?
Then come and join us at The Tasty Treat!
Exotic flavors plenty, and with food replete,
All this and more, here at The Tasty Treat!
Friends old to find, and new to greet,
Why, everypony's coming to The Tasty Treat!
Find us at 2156 Star-Swirl Street—
That's us—The Tasty Treat!

The advertisement went on, without further rhyming anything, showing the dishes offered, the prices thereof, operating hours, and the like. Celestia had never seen anything like this: most restaurants in Canterlot could arguably be art studios, focusing less upon the actual food and more upon presentation, décor, and the like. The Tasty Treat, meanwhile, was unique in its appearance and service—so much so, it had never been reviewed by the Chronicle.

Well! —It couldn’t hurt to try, now would it?

The address specified was not far off from the Iridescent Lotus, and Celestia knew the way. Philomena, therefore, flew off, back to the castle.

Celestia took a look around the sights of Canterlot. The newsstand was still busy, but nobody was buying, not even the Chronicle, which contained the controversial article about her. The street ahead of her was calming down, as the various high-class ponies were all in the cookie-cutter fancy restaurants, with very little variation betwixt the lot—minimalist design, flat gray coloring, and from what she heard, incredibly bland food. Up and down the street, in the culinary part of the city, this was the same story.

And then there it was. The Tasty Treat. A true standout compared to the rest, there were decorations reminiscent of far-off Saddle-Arabia—elephants featured prominently amid the décor. Looking inside, Celestia could see that it was a packed house. She might have to wait for a free table.

That, however, did not take long; one satisfied customer walked out of the building. He saw a large shadow of a pony cast upon the ground; turning his head to its source, he saw Celestia herself, briefly startling him. He gave a short bow, then trotted off.

Celestia entered the restaurant. Her nose was then hit by the heady scents of Saddle-Arabian cooking, all of them beckoning her to find a seat and be served.

A large male unicorn, apparently the maître d’hôtel, approached her. “Princess Celestia!” he exclaimed, speaking with a prominent accent. “It is a great honor to have you eat here! Please, be seated, and make yourself comfortable!” He pronounced the last word giving equal weight to its syllables.

“Why thank you,” she said. A seat was found immediately, and Princess Celestia soon found herself reading from the restaurant’s menu. There were many other dishes that the advertisement failed to mention, but she already made her choice on what to order. “I’ll have the shahi paneer with naan bread.”

“A wise choice!” The unicorn snapped up the menu in his telekinesis. “We will have it ready in the blink of an eye!” He soon disappeared into the kitchen, to relay the order to whomever was cooking.

Celestia took a look around the restaurant. She was reminded of the adage, “You can take the frog out of the pond, but you can’t take the pond out of the frog.” All around her, there were small things from Saddle-Arabia—from the lamp-shades to the pictures hanging up on the walls, from the curtains overshadowing the windows to the general architecture of the building itself, and of course the cuisine, Celestia felt that she had stepped through a portal into Saddle-Arabia.

They truly have taken their nation with them.

True to the maître d’hôtel’s word, much sooner than Celestia had anticipated, the piping-hot shahi paneer had been finished, and brought out to her table with some naan bread.

Celestia bit into the naan bread first. It only served to fortify the surroundings of the restaurant, which already was another world by itself. Although she was tempted simply to wolf down the bread, she managed to tear herself away to try some of the shahi paneer. A powerful blend of spices of a land so far-off wrestled with her tongue, quickly subduing it with godlike flavor. Celestia then dipped a corner of naan bread into the sauce, and tried some of it like so. Her tongue stood no chance—it quickly succumbed to the apotheosis of spicy cooking.

The entirety of the dish disappeared in less than five minutes—the only reason that it didn’t take less time was because Celestia wanted to savor every bite. She then asked the maître-d’hôtel for the check. “For you, Your Highness? This is on the house!”

“No, really, I insist,” she retorted.

“Well, what can I say? I bring check to you.” The total came out to be eight bits. By their standards, it was a simple meal, quite easy to craft. Celestia was more than happy to pay for it herself. “Thank you, Your Highness!” he said. “Come again!”

Celestia looked around for her phoenix. This time, however, she apparently had forsaken Celestia altogether. She looked left. Restaurant Row was picking back up in regards to street activity. She looked right. Much the same story—a couple was boarding a carriage, destinated to parts unknown.

“Coo! Coo!” Celestia looked up, to see the fiery shimmer of Philomena descending upon her. This time, it was carrying something in its claw. It was a small papercraft boat, folded from clean paper instead of newsprint, adorned on the top with a small indigo flag with a moon logo on it.

Celestia knew precisely what Philomena was suggesting, so she started to make her way to a nearby park, with the phoenix perched upon her back.