Chapter 1
Celia opened her eyes. She was in darkness, but not the kind of darkness you would have in a dark room, or in the blackness of space, or even in blindness. She could see herself quite clearly. Her pale white feet were planted on some kind of solid ground. She peered ahead, squinting.
Nothing. An infinite uniform black.
“Hello?”
No one answered.
Her breathing became quick; her eyes watered. Then, she did what any six year old would do if faced with a loneliness with no visible relief. She cried. She cried little heaving sobs.
It would have been perfectly fine to assume she was alone, and in truth, she was. Still, soon, a noise to her back jolted her with a start, causing her to turn around. A thrumming, like a hummingbird the size of a suspension bridge approaching from a just audible distance, deep, powerful, and rapid. It grew closer and closer minute by minute, growing slowly from a promise to a delivery, deafening booms in rapid-fire succession. She screamed in fright, through she was unable to hear herself over the incredible din. It felt like it was right there, but with no other sign of its presence, no crater, no footprint, no wind.
Nothing besides the deafening THRUM-THRUM-THRUM.
Then, very slowly, the sound began to die. Slowly and more slowly until it resembled nothing more than a heartbeat. Eventually, even that passed.
He closed the door behind him, leaned against it and looked up at the fruits of his labor. A long white hallway, pristine in its condition; a wood floor imported from the Black Forest; a Ming vase rested in a cubbyhole tucked into the side of one of the walls. The ceiling reached at least fifty feet up to a roof lined on the outside with solar panels public relations had recommended he install.
He sighed heavily.
“Daddy?”
A long tangle of blonde hair peeked out the side of the staircase between the rungs. He smiled, then ran down the hall, up the stairs, picked up the giggling girl in his arms and twirled her around in the air before setting her on his forearm.
“Hey, sweetie! How was school?”
In reply, she pulled a piece of paper from her pocket, unfolded it, and presented it like a waiter holding fine cuisine. It was two horses colored in blinding pastel. One was a pegasus, obviously, with two crude, but cute, pink wings colored in on either side of a purple body. The other looked like a normal horse. If horses had five legs. He pointed toward the offending appendage.
“What’s that, dear?”
“The unicorn horn, silly!” she said, giggling, her eyes squinting in laughter.
He slapped his forehead and opened his eyes wide in mock amazement. “Oh--derr--that was stupid of me.”
“Learn more ‘bout unicorns, Daddy!”
He started tickling her, which made her laugh even louder.
“Maybe I should go back to preschool with you, huh?”
“HA HA, YES!” She smiled widely.
Everything died down in a moment, and he set his daughter back on the floor. He took a good look at her as she ran toward the television, her long blonde hair flapping behind her. “God,” he thought, “She really does look like her mother.”
After catching up with her on the couch, she had already put on Spongebob, he put an arm around Celia and pulled her close.
“Hey, sweetie?”
“Yuh-huh.”
“A good friend of mine is coming over tonight. I want you to treat her nicely, OK?”
She nodded rapidly, like a bobblehead flinging itself back to front. “OK, Daddy.”
There it was. Third shelf up. Right there on the left edge.
Candy Land awaited their Queen.
Very carefully, Celia placed volumes A through E of the Encyclopedia Britannica up against the corner between her toy shelf and the wall, then climbed her summit with Hillary-esque poise, no sherpa needed. Soon, her kingdom was in her grasp. She then threw it far below, no doubt terrorizing her citizenry, hopped down, picked it up again, and ran down the stairs.
“Daddy! Daddy! Candy Land! Candy Land!” she rounded the corner toward the dining area, “Candy Land!” She slowed to a stop. “Candy... Land.”
The woman from a few months ago, and a few weeks ago, and last week, and two days ago, was here--again. Her long black hair slid down to her back, covered in a small red dress. Her eyelids were covered thickly in eye shadow. Her father jumped in surprise and turned to Celia.
“Oh, Celia! Hey, sweetie. I was just spending time with Miss. Denise.”
Miss. Denise smiled thinly at the girl. Celia didn’t smile back.
He leant toward Miss. Denise, whispered something into her ear, then turned back to his daughter. “I think we’re going to have to call a rain check on game night tonight, sweetie. How about next Tuesday?”
Celia frowned, nodded, then turned and plodded back upstairs. She could hear her father returning to his conversation as she climbed.
Celia had heard stories about normal people’s houses. Houses were it only took a few seconds to walk from room to room. Unfortunately, she was not in ‘normal people’s’ houses, she was in hers, and she had to walk a veritable minefield before she could get a glass of water.
It was past midnight, so her father was asleep. The floor creaked in certain areas, so she had to memorize where to step in the darkness.
Step. Step. Step. Creak.
Mistakes were inevitable.
She made it past her father’s bedroom fine, the guest bedroom, the media room, the den, and the indoor pool. She was about to make it past her father’s study, when she heard a noise besides her footfalls coming from inside.
Rustling paper.
She creeped closer to the door. It was opened a crack, but not enough to see anything through besides a sliver of a shadowed bookshelf. She opened it a hair more and peeked through it.
It was Miss. Denise. She must have staid over the night--again, but what was she doing here?
She had put piles of folders all over a table behind her and was rapidly opening and closing them, like a machine in a factory assembling line. Open. Shuffle. Close. Then, she held one closely to her face and smiled. Her voice was just audible.
“There we are.” she said, drawing out the phrase like she was soaking in it.
She flipped through the document, stopped, and pointed a finger at the page she was looking at. She hummed.
“Full ownership of the estate will transfer to my daughter...”
Celia backed away from the door.
Creak.
The rustling of papers stopped.
Celia’s blood went cold. Goosebumps spread across her arms, back, and neck. She forgot about the water and went back to bed, wide awake.
Lately, Celia had taken to drawing with full gusto. It was mostly horses. Sometimes it was dragons with big green wings and blazing fire billowing out of their mouths. She had even started creating a world for them to live in, with little houses, shops, and a library where they could check out books and read about humans to their foals.
Besides school, it was practically all she did. After her father and Miss. Denise got married a few months ago, she had only seen her father at lunch and dinner, and only every so often. He was hardly around anymore. When she would see him, he would hug her and smile and ask her how her day went--but never anything else. No more game night. No more Spongebob. No more anything.
Sometimes Celia cried about it after she went to bed, but she made sure no one ever found out.
She was drawing at her art table in her room when there was a knock on her door. Celia turned to find Miss. Denise, smiling her thin smile, wearing a red floral print swimsuit.
“Hello, Celia!”
“Hello, Miss. Denise.”
Celia could hear her breathe in deeply, a lungful of air. She let it out in a loud huff.
“Well, Celia, I don’t know about you, but I feel we got off to a bad start, and I would like to make it up to you, hmmn?”
There wasn’t any start.
“Uh... OK.”
Miss. Denise smiled more widely. “Great! How about if we go swimming together, huh? Just us girls. How about if you get your swim things on and I’ll meet you there, OK?”
Celia paused before she responded with a low and drawn out, “OK...”
“Great! See you there.” Miss. Denise then turned on her heel, walked out the door, and turned toward the direction of the indoor pool.
Even though she was unnerved by the strangeness of what just happened, Celia put away her drawings and stories, slipped on a Dora swimsuit, walked down the hall and opened the door to the pool, to find no one there.
She felt a pair of hands pick her up, stride to the pool, jump in and push her under. She swallowed a lungful of water, and thrashed violently. Soon, it was too much, and she saw only darkness.
“Just so you know, sir, as soon as we turn the switch, the machine will stop her heart. She’ll be legally dead.”
“But not actually dead.”
“Her consciousness will be active, if that’s what you mean.”
“Then that’s what I want. I don’t want to see my angel turn into a vegetable.”
“Very well. If you’d wish, you can be in the room when it’s time.”
“... OK.”
THRUM-THRUM-THRUM.
THRUM-THRUM-thrum.
thrum-thrum-thrum.
thrum thrum thrum.
thrum.
thrum.
thrum.
Very slowly, the sound began to die. Slowly and more slowly. Eventually, even that passed into total silence.
Nothing was happening. Celia wiped her red eyes. There were tear streaks on her face, flushed red with fright. Her eyes darted everywhere, looking for any sign of explanation for what was happening to her.
“Hello?”
Immediately, a most unexpected thing happened. Something replied.
“Yes?”
The voice sounded like an old man. A grandfather, even. A voice like one who had been just unable to hear the question because it was too busy thinking about how much it enjoyed its breakfast that morning. It calmed her as much as the voice of a charming old man in an infinite expanse can calm a person.
“Where am I?” asked Celia.
The voice chuckled. “You’d be surprised how often I’m asked that question a day. Now, let me have a look at you.”
Celia stood as still as she could.
“There’s no need to be frightened! I mean you nothing but goodwill.”
She relaxed, but only a bit.
“That’ll have to do, I suppose. Let’s see.” The voice hummed. “That’s strange. How old are you?”
“Six,” she replied.
“Hmmn.” The voice hummed darkly. “That’s far too young.”
Celia shuffled uncomfortably.
“So!” The voice’s tone brightened considerably. “I have two questions for you, my dear. One, what is your name?”
There was a moment’s pause before she answered in a squeak.
“Celia.”
“That is a very pretty name. Now, my second question. What is your favorite thing in the world?”
“... Horses,” she answered, her voice having a smidge more confidence.
“Any particular kinds of horses?”
“Unicorns and Pegasus.”
The voice laughed mirthfully. “Oh my, I haven’t had this fun of a premise in years. Well, my dear Celia--what if I told you I could give you an entire world with nothing but unicorns and pegasus and any other creature you could imagine?”
She looked around at the blackness. “... Really?”
“Really. And you would be their Queen. In fact, don’t take my word for it; I’ll prove it.”
A large hand materialized, about the size of a small sedan, and pointed straight ahead in the direction she was looking.
“Look there as far as you can see, and imagine that the sun is there. Are you imagining the sun?”
After a moment, Celia nodded. “Yuh-huh.”
“Excellent. Now, the sun is just below the horizon, you see, so you’ll have to help it out...” The voice chuckled mirthfully.
“Simply raise the sun, my dear, and we’ll begin.”
Celestia opened her eyes, breathed in a lungful of air, and let it out with a long huff. She stretched her legs and wings like a housecat, rolled out of bed, and made her way to the balcony adjoining her bedroom.
She passed through a set of double doors that opened to the most beautiful sight she knew. A bright white moon presided over the dark starry night that blanketed her domain. Pristine blue rivers flowing down from snow capped purple mountains that softened into miles of rolling green hills and forests, flattening out to a vast plain dotted with wild yellow long grass. Everything she saw was hers, and even everything beyond that.
Celestia looked upon the dark horizon and began to imagine. She imagined the sun in all its radiant glory underneath her field of view, at the bottom of the world. Then, she willed it to rise. And rise it did, obeying its master. The moon quickly made its way below the purpling sky and was replaced on the opposite end with long bands of magenta, indigo, pink, and, orange. Then, a bright and burning curved line of yellow at the base. The sun had risen.
As soon as she was done doing her duty, Celestia turned to see an earth pony guard in full royal armor waiting just outside the balcony doors. He bowed, his armor clanking together as he kneeled.
“My Princess, I have news to report.”
She nodded. “Yes?”
He continued to kneel as he replied. “An odd artifact has appeared in the royal library under your authorship, even though it is quite clear that you did not create it.”
She quirked an eyebrow. “An odd artifact?”
“Yes, my Princess. The Royal Librarian requests your presence at your earliest availability.”
She looked over her shoulder at the rising sun, then back toward the guard, and smiled.
“Well, I’m all done with my duties for the morning, so I should have enough time, as long as it doesn’t run into my meeting with Parliament at ten.”
The guard rose. “Very well, Princess. If you would follow me, please.”
The two made their way out of the balcony, through her bedroom, and past the vast marble columns that lined the palace causeway, walking under a stained glass skylight that stretched across the entire length of the hall, portraying the beautiful Whitetail Wood, light green, lush, and filled with deer, elk, and towering oaks. Colored light streamed into the hall, casting an ethereal mirror image on the floor.
Soon, they reached a wooden double door to the side of the hallway. The guard pushed it open, and both entered into a room lined with shelves as tall as the ceiling.
A unicorn wearing large horn rim glasses tottered his way over to them. He shakingly bowed.
“Ma’am.”
“Are you alright, Paperweight?”
The librarian chuckled. “Just a bit of arthritis, Ma’am. Is to be expected at my age.” He rose and stood at attention. “Now! I must show you something quite strange. Follow me, if you may.”
Soon, they reached a very familiar section of the library, all of Celestia’s publications, thousands upon thousands of scrolls, taking several of the library’s gargantuan shelves. He pointed toward the top of one of them.
“You see, one of my assistants had reached your stacks while going through yearly inventory and found something strange.” The unicorn’s face visibly strained. “It’s on the highest shelf, so it’s a bit hard to get. Ahh... There. Got it.”
Two small sheets of paper hovered from their perch down to the librarian’s eye level.
“It’s all very queer. They clearly have your magical signature, but it seems absolutely ridiculous to attribute it to yourself. Here. Take a look.”
The librarian held the sheets of paper telekinetically up to his Princess.
It was two crudely drawn picture of ponies. One was a pegasus, with two pink stubs for wings on either side of a purple body. The other sheet was, probably, a unicorn with what looked like a horn coming out of its ear. It reminded her of a foal’s first drawing of their parents, or something similar.
She shook her head and addressed the Librarian. “I’m sorry, Paperweight, but I’ve never seen these before. Something must be wrong with the sorting system, or it might have been accidentally assigned to...” As she spoke, her eyes were drawn back toward the picture. Celestia noticed a detail on the unicorn she hadn’t seen before. A faintly drawn mane, colored in a very light pastel green, yellow, teal, and blue.
“Daddy...” she whispered.
“What was that, Princess?” asked the Librarian.
“I think I recognize this.”
“Princess?”
“Yes. It’s just at the back of my mind, but I can’t quite place it.” She looked away from the pictures back to her friend. “Paper, could you look up-” She stopped with a start. The Librarian’s head was dissolving into small square sheets, floating up into space.
“Princess?” he asked in a concerned tone, half of his face already gone.
“Paperweight!” she screamed.
“Princess are you alright? I-” In a moment, the Librarian dissolved completely, like a ream of paper set to flames. Just after, the bookshelves surrounding them began following his example, little partial squares of books, shelf, and wall floating up and away.
Celestia turned behind her. All that was left of the guard were the very bottom of his hooves. Very quickly, everything around her, the floor, the chandelier above her, the window, the front desk, the entire library, vanished and became nothing.
The Princess' breathing quickened.
She was in darkness, but not the kind of darkness you would have in a dark room, or in the blackness of space, or even in blindness. She could see herself quite clearly. Her alabaster white hooves were planted on some kind of solid ground. She turned wildly back and forth, looking for any sign of life, seeing nothing but an infinite black.
She stopped, breathing heavily, tear streaks running down her face. Then, a noise to her back jolted her with a start, causing her to turn around. Footsteps. An old man wearing a brown tweed jacket, leaning heavily on a wooden cane hobbled toward her.
“Hello again, Celestia.”
“What kind of witchcraft is this? Explain yourself!” she spat venomously.
The man sighed heavily. He snapped his fingers and, suddenly, where there was once nothing, there was a simple wooden chair. He sat on it, slumping, looking up at Celestia’s fuming face.
“You started to remember.”
“Remember what?”
He shook his head. “It doesn’t make any difference.” He leaned back in the chair and shook a pointed finger in her direction. “I used to explain it all to you each time, because you care far too much to me, but we’ve been through that Hell too many times to go through it again.”
She pointed a finger at him, jabbing it towards his face.
"I demand to know! What-" Celestia stopped mid sentence. She had hands.
Celestia jumped back from the man and looked at herself frantically. A tiny body. Two legs and feet. White hairless skin. Long tangled blonde hair. A tightness in her throat.
She looked up at the man, glaring, who returned it with a steady gaze of disinterest. "What have you done to me?" she screamed in a high, shrill, unfamiliar voice.
He grimaced. "That's enough of that."
The man snapped his fingers.
Celestia was brushing her mane, getting ready for her meeting with Parliament. Something concerning land usage on the plains. A large farming family had requested to settle a large stretch bordering the Everfree, and there were some ownership complications, but Paperweight had just stopped by with all the statues that would qualify them, so it should work out fine.
A noise to her back jolted her with a start, causing her to turn around. A brown unicorn wearing a tweed jacket was hobbling his way out of her room. She smiled and sighed in relief.
“Oh, Professor Spaceway, I didn’t even hear you come in!”
He turned his head toward Celestia and nodded.
“I was just making my way out, dear.”
She scoffed. “My old teacher decides to sneak into my room just to scare me witless and leave?”
He chuckled mirthlessly. “That’s exactly what I intend to do, Celia. Every time.” He waved. “I’ll see you soon.” He turned, made his way out of the bedroom, and closed the door behind him.
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This seems interesting....I think I'll give it a shot and tell you what i think of it when I'm done with it
914374 Thanks! Looking forward to it.
914378 no problem! I kinda like stories like this
Wow. I think this is one of my favourite HiE. Good Job
That was quite an interesting story. I thought it was written pretty well for the time you took on it.
Thank ye. Sorin
I can't understand why there are two downvotes on this... it's sad, but beautiful at the same time.
I quite enjoyed it.
914398>>914413>>914451>>914461
Thank you all so much for the response!
I enjoyed it, but I felt thoroughly confused, I have to say, it sounds like something that could be expanded upon later... that is, if I understand it right.
The girl's brain working on some kind of life support, creating its own illusions for itself, or maybe hooked up to a machine that emulates some kind of sensory input, but is that correct at all, or did she really create her own world to live in after she was completely dead?
914604
You got it; it's a machine. Sorry if it came off as confusing! I tried to keep it as "un-telly" as possible and leave a lot to inference. I guess, since you got the premise, it... worked?
914378 How about some details of what happened after the murder?
914734
Well, I guess one possible question is, "Did she get away with it, or didn't she?" I'm not entirely sure about that, or any other details after the murder for that matter. (My gut says she got away with it.) I wrote the story with an intent to have a tunnel-vision on Celia and a rocket-fast pace. This was made to be a one-shot, so I don't really see myself adding to it.
I know there's a good chance that's completely unsatisfying!
i.imgur.com/LWJxI.gif
This is EPIC and kept me interested, very nice
914801
Ha, ha--you finished! A genuine "thank you" for the feedback.
914846 no problem, happy to give you it
Good story. Could do with a spell check though.
Keep it up.
This was AMAZING. I'll admit that at first a six year old girl being Celestia didn't seem to work, but it did!
Although I'm curious as to who Luna would be, if Celestia was a child. I was thinking she could maybe be a sibling had the story been different, but i can see how that would have been hard to make work.
916974
Thanks for the feedback! Was there anything in-particular you noticed?
918002
I had an idea of how to make it work with another story of another little girl in a similar situation being grafted into Celia's universe as a stirring conclusion. I opted against it, because I thought it would throw the story out of balance--one half Celia, one half Celestia--and end up making the story more about that enigmatic computer guy than it should. On one level, I see massive waves of heartwarming on the horizon, but, on another level... There's other stories to write, and this one did what I set out to do.
Thanks so much for the feedback!
918263
A few things I can't think of off the top of my head. Just needs to be thrown into word or something of the like and have a spell check run.
918318
Just put it through. There was one mistake, as far as I can tell--"etherial" to "ethereal."
Word misuse creeps up a number of times.
E.g. "and trashed violently", is probably supposed to be, "and thrashed violently".
Heading out for time with the fam. Will check back and make a run through. Thanks for pointing that out!
This was a very interesting story to read! Interesting twist, I will say.
It's certainly interesting, I'll give it that. Your mechanics leave something to be desired - direct thoughts are in italics without the quotes, and you had a few ["Dialogue." he said] when it should have been ["Dialogue," he said]s in there. The plot could have been strengthened by building up Celia as a character first, by making us care more for her - and then building up Celestia as a character. By doing so, you would have made us <i>want</i> to accept this, which would have been the best outcome for a story like this. Even so, fair's fair, and this wasn't a bad read at all.
1539209
Fair enough!
Looking back at the story, now over 30 weeks ago, it really does suck. It was an attempt to write something in a day. Pretty much everything you said, and more, is true about the story.
Probably won't write another pony-related fanfic again. Too much time for too little reward.
2227523
Ehh, I wouldn't say not worth it. Practice is practice, and having a wide and ready audience to bounce styles, characterization and scenery is nothing to sniff at. Besides, even though I honestly can't remember how it was, judging from the comment I don't think I thought it was outright bad, heh. Just saiyan.
Goddamn I wish I had found this earlier.