Before the Sun was Tamed

by AlicornPriest

The First Taming: To Create Ties

Before the sun was tamed, it was a roiling ball of fire and death.

In those days, so it is told, one did not know when the day would be hot or cold, when the sun would shine bright or when it would be hidden behind clouds, when it was safe to travel or when simply walking outside beneath the harsh view of the sun would cook you alive. In those days, the three tribes of ponies rarely interacted with one another, but each sought their own method to tame the sun and create stability. The earth ponies made offerings to their Sun God, and the pegasi flew as high as they could, nearly high enough to touch it. The unicorns, too, tried to handle it with their magic, but it was simply too much to consider. All three tribes failed, and it was believed in those days that the sun would remain as it always was: distant, deadly, and unpredictable.

But it was also said, in disbelieving whispers, that there was a place where there might be hope. Far away, beyond the seas and mountains, was a place without the scorching blight of the sun, where ponies might live without fear. If a pony could just find that place, they could lead the rest of ponykind there, and so bring safety to all. But of course, these were laughed off as the pointless fantasies of the idealistic. To reach this far-off utopia, one would need to first travel over miles of open grassland, then cross the endless ocean, and then climb to the top of the highest mountain. Surely this was an impossible feat, far beyond the strength of any pony.

There was one pony who believed, however. Her true name has been lost over millennia, but in the stories, she is called Northern Bound. The stories say her entire family died beneath the sun's gaze, or perhaps they say she had no family, that she was born from the mist and clay. In most stories, she is a unicorn, but even that is unknown for certain. Whatever the case, she had nothing keeping her where she was, so she packed what few things she had and left.

Out on the grasslands, she would simply walk. If the shadows began to shrink, and the temperature began to soar, she would hunker down beneath a leafy tree and her wide-brimmed hat and wait for her chance again. When she reached the endless ocean, she pulled out a large branch from her pack and used it to help keep herself afloat. She paddled across the water, burning hot above the surface and shivering cold beneath it, but she continued without hesitation. At the distant mountains, she cinched her saddlebags tighter, donned a scarf, and climbed with a steady hoof. It really did require nothing more than the belief in the quest and the persistence to see it accomplished.

When at last she reached the top of the highest mountain, she saw what was hidden: a staircase, reaching all the way up into the sky. Each step looked transparent, matterless, as though you would fall through immediately, but when Northern Bound placed one hoof on the first step, it held firm, as if by magic. So she climbed, but with each step higher, she felt a growing dread. Was this their new home? Could ponies live here? Had this all been a waste of time?

She reached the top step, and the canopy of space spread infinitely before her. There seemed to be no path, so she wandered aimlessly. After a few short minutes, she came upon a figure in the shape of a pony. She hailed the figure, but when it turned to look at her, she recoiled in shock.

The figure looked like a pony, but only in shape. Its coat was a perfect, glittering white, impossible for one of her kind. Its mane radiated out as waves of fire, and its tail flickered and danced like a candle flame. Its wings were larger than any pegasus wings she'd seen before, and its horn jutted out like a massive tower. Its eyes lacked pupil, iris, or sclera; they were instead all red and orange, glowing faintly from the inside by some unseen force. Its face lacked a mouth, nostrils, ears, anything sensory or creating a personality. In an instant, Northern Bound knew that this was the sun, in some purer form.

Despite its flat, featureless appearance, Northern Bound found the sun utterly beautiful. There was something quintessential about it, as though the sun were what ponies like her should look like, were they perfect in every way. So she did the only thing she could think of: she fell to her knees and scraped low to the ground. The sun did not respond, so after a short while, she stood once more and thought of what she might say.

Perhaps the thoughts of her dead family came to her; or perhaps she saw the plight of her fellow pony, and she desired an answer. So her first question was, "Yos zaya buona?" "Are you good?"

The sun did not reply. Did that mean yes or no? But the sun did not cause suffering because it was evil; it simply did not care whether ponies survived or not. It also helped trees to grow and kept the world warm; did that then make it good? But it did not desire that, either; it simply irradiated heat, and the world did with that what it could. So Northern Bound could not determine the answer to the question.

She next asked, "Yos zaya cavala?" "Are you a pony?"

But this question, too, troubled Northern Bound. This being before her certainly looked pony, could probably act pony and pretend... but would it ever be pony, at its deepest nature? It would always be the sun, a distant, powerful source of heat and light, which brought life in one hoof and death in another. Was appearance enough, or was the nature of things more important? So Northern Bound again could not determine the answer to the question.

In all this, the sun barely moved, made no sound. Northern Bound could not tell for certain if the sun could even understand her speech. Despite standing so close, she felt an impossibly great distance between them, like the distance between the surface of the ground and the highest point in the sky. She saw the sun for what it truly was: an idea, far away and high above, beautiful in its conception and eternally remote.

She spoke to the sun a third time, but this time, as a statement, not a question: "Yos zaya celestia." "You are heavenly."

Whether it was due to the change in tone, or whether the sun recognized something in Northern Bound's speech, we do not know, but so the stories go, when Northern Bound spoke a third time, the sun tipped its head to one side. It was the first thing the sun had done that truly felt pony, even though its meaning was still inscrutable. At the very least, it suggested that the sun was listening to what Northern Bound had said, that it was trying to understand. This changed everything. If the sun responded like that, perhaps it did have the mind of a pony after all. And if it had that... perhaps it could be good, too.

Northern Bound turned back the way she had come and made to leave. As her hoof touched the topmost step of the staircase, a voice stopped her. "Celestia."

The sun had spoken, despite no mouth; it spoke with a warm, soft tone, like a mother sheltering her children--a voice distinctly feminine. Northern Bound turned back to look at the sun, but it did not seem to have moved from its original spot, its head still tipped to one side. Northern Bound smiled. "Yes. Yos zaya celestia."

The sun returned its head to normal, then nodded slowly. "Yes."

At that moment, Northern Bound felt a sudden dizziness. She felt faint, as though all the blood had rushed from her head. She collapsed into darkness; when she woke up, she was back in her cave, with the other unicorns. They interrogated her about what she had seen, whether she had tamed the sun and made the outside world safe to live in, but she couldn't say for sure. But she felt that the description she had given it, just one word, had bound its nature. Words are names, and they have great power. The sun was a roiling ball of fire and death, but "Celestia," the Heavenly One... could perhaps be more.

In the days that followed, the sun was still hot, the day still heavy and oppressive. But the heat no longer soared to deadly levels, and ponies could live and work in the fields without fear. The sun was still powerful, but it was a constant power, a stable power. Through its name, the sun had been tamed... at least a little.

Comments

[Jackelope]

I just came here to post: This is one of the best titles I ever seen.

[Onyx Quill]

I like the concept.