Uncontrollable
There were those whose natural reaction to coming up with such an idea would have been pride. They would have allowed a moment for simply being impressed with themselves and regardless of what the girl sometimes believed about humans, that number included quite a few among her own herd: if nothing else, centaur double-jointing made it that much easier to actually pat yourself on selected portions of the back. A pause for celebrating their own intelligence, as ego got a chance to expand that much further outwards.
The girl, already stunned, reeling on levels both mental and emotional, utterly disoriented to the point where four legs no longer felt like enough for support, feeling uprooted on a level which threatened to reach the soul (and it would have been so easy to blame all of that, after the screaming had stopped), descended towards what was almost an instinctive reaction.
An audibly concerned "Lady --" came from the other side of the door.
"A few more minutes! Please, I just need --"
The hooves withdrew again.
A female in a restroom, with a worried male unable to make himself go inside. Even with trick valves involved, it still seemed to be a line which wasn't casually crossed. Something which might even serve as a universal constant, especially when some of the things which were more fundamental no longer seemed to apply.
Cerea took a shuddering breath, and began to second-guess herself.
Is there any other way it could work?
Any at all?
Maybe the local laws of physics were just that different. Except that if they were, the altered rulebook seemed to be presenting a surprising number of loopholes. Like the ones which allowed someone from outside the system to continue existing within it, while constantly engaging in the little things. Like breathing. Any changes strong enough to allow something which massed no more than a few metric tons to provide heat for an entire world felt as if they would casually obliterate oxygen processing on the way down.
From everything she'd seen, gravity remained exactly that. Pegasi could create lightning, but Nightwatch had told her part of the process involved adding ion charges to the clouds, or setting off what was already there: the results were normal electricity. You could start a fire with magic: a unicorn field spinning an object fast enough to create the necessary friction, or a talented pegasus concentrating a lot of heat into a very small spot. The Sergeant had told her that. And he'd also made it clear that once the magic ended, what you were dealing with was flame.
Everything she'd seen about the world indicated that all the rules she knew were working normally. And magic could be seen as an exception to that, but... it had its own rulebook, something which didn't seem to be so much set fully apart as resting in rough parallel, just a little bit to the side. The magic she'd seen didn't change the system so much as it found new ways of working within it. And it was easily possible for her to have missed the great acts of sorcery, things which only alicorns could hope to control -- but would it be that different?
Permutations...
Sun as a -- moveable white hole? Something just as superdense as a black hole, but emitting energy instead of collapsing it within? Except that... this was getting past the astronomy which Cerea was comfortable with, but she was almost sure that the white hole theory had it emanating just about every kind of energy. Which very much included hard radiation in vast quantities, plus a white hole was supposed to spit out matter. A daily forecast featuring mostly sunny weather, a increased amount of gamma, and a strong chance of non-meteors raining from the sky. And Sun looked like... a sun.
Maybe they aren't moving Sun and Moon.
Maybe they're just turning the planet.
Judging by the way she was fighting to keep all four knees from giving out, it wasn't much of an improvement. It was certainly possible for an orbiting body to become tidally locked: her own moon qualified. Have that happen to a world within the zone where life was possible, and it wouldn't be possible for long. Boiled on one side, frozen on the other. So you could have a situation where a planet had to be turned, and now all Cerea had to do was figure out how managing that much mass was supposed to be possible.
They're stronger than they've let anyone see, for anything other than this. So powerful that they can move objects on that scale. Casually.
Except that she was now getting into a territory which a very bad science fiction novel (and, as she'd eventually learned to her horror, an even worse movie) had summarized with 'What does God need with a starship?' Or, for a rather more local point --
-- she felt the surge rising, realigned her upper torso just in time, rinsed out the long sink and awkwardly cupped her hands to catch enough of the clean water for washing out her mouth --
-- why did two entities who possessed what would effectively be the power of living deities need Guards? Unless they were just letting their protectors die over and over as a means of concealing how powerful they truly were, and that didn't make any sense when everyone (except herself) simply knew they were moving the things, casually accepting it as fact...
Picture a star. Cosmology's demonstration of fusion principles, and that meant there was a lot of energy being generated. One of the requirements for life to evolve on a planet -- at least, for life as the girl knew it -- was that the world had to be far enough away to receive just enough heat: too close or too far out were simply different kinds of death.
But that was with a star. Her own world's sun was more than three hundred thousand times the mass of the safety zone which hosted its orbiting observers, and that meant the planet had to be fairly far out. Eight light-minutes. Distance as protective barrier.
Imagine that you could build an orbital fusion plant. (She was trying to avoid the 'how'. She already felt as if she was going to vomit again.) One designed to create heat and light for a single planet. You could scale it down by a lot: you'd pretty much need to. Figure out the safe distance: well clear of atmosphere, but... it might still have to be pretty close. Even if you had nearly all of the energies radiating in the intended direction, you'd have to calculate for how much would be lost to the chill of space. In fact, you'd pretty much need to be capable of controlling which way the energy went, because a cool side was vital. When you went up to run maintenance, you'd need to land somewhere --
-- teleportation, might not be necessary --
-- and if it was in the right place, at the right size -- then when you looked up, you'd see what appeared to be a normal sun. Not that anyone could really look at a sun for long...
How big would it have to --
-- she didn't know. Cerea had a high school student's knowledge of physics, went somewhat beyond that for astronomy. It wasn't enough to reconcile this.
Why?
Science fiction hadn't been her primary reading material, especially with bad adaptations like the God And Starship book to not lead the way. Her literary tastes usually went back in time. She knew about satellites because you had to work around them for certain aspects of astronomy, and because -- the herd had been scared.
There had always been a few liminals who were capable of passing for human, at least for a little while. They were the ones who'd done most of the smuggling into the gaps. Who'd made -- arrangements. But as technology had advanced, they'd been encouraged to go into the sciences. Computer programming. Everything which went into orbit needed to have a little extra code slipped into the operating system: do not record any images from here. And even then, it had felt like a matter of time before the whole thing fell apart. Just one slip --
-- there had been just about nothing in her body to bring up the first time: this internal violation consisted of nothing but dry heaves --
"-- Lady --"
"Please!"
And he withdrew.
Not much science fiction in her mostly-ancient library. She felt like she lacked the necessary grounding.
(She felt like the floor beneath her hooves was trying to heave her away.)
But if she had to speculate... then it felt like there were two primary reasons for making an artificial sun.
You were on the verge of losing your natural one.
Or there was a planet being created, and you just needed a sun to go with it.
(She reeled. Her hands clutched at the sink. Knuckles cracked from internal pressure.)
But... nothing she'd seen even remotely suggested that any species on the planet had access to that level of creation potential, nothing --
-- and then the carved-out hollows within her slowly began to fill with horror.
Computers. Smartphones. Airplanes and rockets and televisions and everything else humans put into the world.
Things made by another. Perhaps that which was left behind, ancient beyond measure, found and studied and operated -- but not understood.
On an individual level, the capacity for control did not imply the ability to create.
Or... repair...
...she just barely managed to slow her descent, sinking to the floor instead of crashing. The girl was certain that Fancypants would have come in for a crash. And then she huddled, arms wrapped tightly under her breasts, tail trembling.
She stayed like that for about a minute.
Shaking.
Reeling.
Wondering if Sun would go out.
...no.
Stop.
They weren't necessarily inherited from -- a long time ago. I don't know. I'm assuming the worst. Sun came up yesterday. It should come up tomorrow.
Unless something happened to the Princesses.
Unless it took a certain, rather extensive degree of training, or for some reason, an alicorn was needed to make it work. She'd already been told there were no heirs. If nopony was ready to take over --
"She's the only choice, recruit. Every time. You save the Princess, you save the nation. You might even wind up saving the world."
And that was when it hit her.
The reason Blitzschritt had taken the last stance.
Why every Guard had to be ready to give up their own life in an instant, without true decision or thought.
Keep the Princesses alive, keep a planet alive.
She had taken on that responsibility. Something she wasn't capable of.
If she failed...
...when she failed...
They die, and...
She didn't even have bile left to bring up and no matter what the internal wrenching felt like, it didn't seem to be strong enough for blood.
Cerea was never certain as to exactly how long she was in the restroom. Enough time for a few more knocks. Nothing ever brought back what she'd said to turn them away.
It took a while before she could present the illusion of having pulled herself together, and she was fully aware that illusion was the whole of it. Some of the humans had a saying: something about holding an item together with bailing wire and spit. When it came to both materials, she would have readily exchanged her desperate attempts to prevent total collapse for reinforcement with something that solid.
She washed her face again. Rinsed out her mouth until the stink was gone, at least for pony nostrils. Adjusted the dress, checked for water stains.
They need Sun. A planet can't sustain life without one.
So what's Moon? What function does it serve?
She wasn't sure. Perhaps there had been a lost planet with its own star and natural satellite, and... when you made a new one, you wanted it to feel like home. You couldn't hold hands under moonlight unless you actually had --
-- no one will ever --
It was almost a welcome thought. A different form of agony could serve as a distraction.
So Moon could be present for the sake of appearances. Or -- did the oceans strictly need tides? How dense was Moon, to appear in roughly the same scale as it did in her home, and still exert that much gravity?
Or it could be simpler than that. Sun generated energy, and that was under some degree of control. Enough power for life to exist, and no more. But to regulate an output which was produced by fusion that precisely --
(She was desperately hoping it was fusion.)
-- might be difficult. And it didn't hurt to have something which could serve as an extra control...
Perhaps Moon was the heat sink, soaking in anything extra in order to keep the planet safe, then harmlessly dispersing it into the void. Or -- a backup Sun, in which case, Moon was what Sun looked like when it was turned off. It was possible that it served one function while waiting to fulfill the other. After all, if you could make one Sun, why not have another on standby? Just in case, especially since it was possible that the whole system only existed because you'd already lost your original model --
"Lady Cerea, I... don't mean to rush you." She heard him swallow. "And it's not as if I have any experience with the amount of time your species requires to -- complete their business."
Ignorance was seldom bliss. (She felt as if her fresh compilation of guesses had just violated one of the exceptions.) But there were times it was protective (and same). For all Fancypants knew, this was a normal amount of trench time.
"But you've been in there for --"
"I'm coming out," she told him. "I just need to use the dryer."
That was quick enough: the boxy item mounted too low on the wall could have the directions of its vents adjusted, and then it was mostly a matter of finding a position where she wasn't baking her own bustline. And then she headed for the door. To rejoin a party whose initial pretense was a falsehood. In future years, it would be true enough, but... the graduating class of one now potentially understood exactly what she had been asked to take responsibility for.
I swore --
She had to do her best to get through the rest of the night: it would reflect poorly on the palace if she didn't, and upon her host. And she wasn't going to talk about any of her theories within the gathering, because there was a chance she was wrong, and... you didn't go up to those with true faith and casually suggest how the extra loaves and fishes might have been stored under a dune-shaded cloth. But after that... if it was real, if all of it was real...
There was a forge. The world would be that much safer with her in it.
She now knew enough about pony expressions to recognize that Fancypants was somewhere beyond the more casual levels of worry.
"You're not moving well," the noble observed as they headed back towards what felt like a more uncertain babble of voices.
Cerea forcibly got her hind legs in line.
"We can end this at any time," he told her. "Excuses can always be made for Guards: the difficult part is coming up with one which doesn't panic the populace. If you want to go back --"
"I'll stay." She could do that much, in her last hours representing the palace.
A flicker of corona adjusted the monocle.
"Some of the guests," the unicorn carefully attempted, "said you were talking about -- the translator had difficulty in finding terms for the majority, but it was something about orbital bodies. And you --" she could now scent his sweat, mixing with the blood "-- seemed confused."
She had to fight the nausea back down, and was surprised to find it landing on top of what, if allowed to escape, would have been the laugh. Well, in the presence of that level of understatement...
(Reeling. Disoriented. Internally, fragmented. Holding herself upright with sheer willpower.)
"About the Princesses," Fancypants went on. "About --" he swallowed "-- Sun and Moon..."
"It was Jet Set." Cerea took a little comfort in the fact that it was barely a lie at all. "Some of the things he was saying were just -- ridiculous."
"...such as?" took far too much time to emerge.
"Asking the Princesses to change the seasonal length of day and night for Equestria, and then adjust back to normal for the rest of the world," she told him. "That's just ego. As if Sun and Moon exist for his sake alone. When it's what that one yak said. They're for the planet."
She didn't consider herself to be all that good of a liar. But he couldn't scent when she was working with falsehoods. Nopony could, and... it helped, to have the base rest upon the impossible foundation of truth.
It made him smile. "Our Princesses merely control, yes," he said. "And my apologies for Jet Set. He's one of those who will always support whatever is determined to be in fashion. I was rather hoping to convince him that was you." But then he hesitated. "I was told that you were asking about -- whether the Princesses were the ones who exerted that control. And there was something about... mass?"
She was silent for a moment. Searching among inner debris for an answer.
"In your first letter, you said that Princess Celestia is your friend."
He nodded.
"I don't quite know what to tell you," Cerea softly offered. "I know what's been classified, and... I can only guess what she might tell a friend, who can be trusted with a little more. But you know that magic brought me here. Everyone does."
"And that it has to send you home," he confirmed. "With no other way to reach it. Implying a place which is very far away indeed."
She nodded. "So where I come from... we didn't know that the Princesses controlled Sun and Moon. That's all, sir. And since there's no contact with Equestria... I just heard about it now, for the first time. It was just a little bit of a shock. And to think about my being a Guard for Princess Luna, when Moon is hers..."
When you thought about it, there hadn't been a single lie in any part. As long as he didn't think about the possibility of another planet, the existence of more solar systems...
He paused in his trot. She matched.
Slowly, a little too softly, "I am trying to imagine that. What it would feel like to learn it for the first time, at your age. And I am failing. It's the magnitude of it, I think. It's like trying to imagine having been blind since birth, and getting the first chance to see. I can muster the words for the concept, but when it comes to what the reality might be -- I can't find a tooth grip."
She nodded. There was enough of her left for that.
"And nopony would have told you," he quietly concluded, "because they could not have imagined that someone would not know."
Again.
He looked up at her, and the distance crossed seemed a little greater.
"You more than needed the time to think about all of it," Fancypants decided. "I will tell any who inquire that you ate something which rested poorly, before leaving the palace."
And he smiled. Something which scent told her was a little forced, but... it was still a smile.
"Not to be repeated, of course," he said in a much lower tone, "and I suspect you know that already, but... I did need to speak with the Princesses about you, simply to plan the party. Some things weren't directly said, but I've known Princess Celestia long enough to occasionally hear where the words aren't. And my reading tastes are rather varied. So while we have a last moment of privacy, let me ask you -- and I will understand if you don't answer."
The smile was somewhat forced. The hope now sparkling within his eyes was all too real.
"Another planet?" Fancypants asked. And waited for her answer, shifting his weight from hoof to hoof like a foal awaiting the greatest of gifts.
She took a breath, one so deep as to almost pull the scarf loose.
"Yes."
And then everything about the smile was true.
"I know how much it complicates things, Lady Cerea," he softly told her. "Any effort made to return you home, when no controlled magic has ever reached so far. But... please do not think less of me for this, of a colt who finds himself in a stallion's body, gazing up at a dream. I have empathy for your pain, for the loss which comes from being so very far away from everything you knew. And at the same time, without dismissing anything you have experienced... I hope you will understand that the colt had longed for this chance. To see it happen within his lifetime."
Really, all she had to do was keep nodding.
"Because those of us who truly thought about it," Fancypants evenly continued, "knew this night was inevitable. It was simply a question of when..."
"Inevitable?" Cerea asked.
The smile became that much stronger.
"We look at the night sky," he gently, reverently said. "A place filled with suns. And we know that the universe is just as filled with life, seeking a way to cross the distance and greet us as new friends. Millions of suns, and -- someone is moving them..."
He began to trot again. Cerea followed.
Just before the threshold where they would have been overheard, "I hope that you can tell me something about your world. In time."
Just keep nodding...
"But for now, for your home," Fancypants reasonably concluded, "Sun and Moon are not moved by Princesses."
"No," managed to emerge without too much of an echo.
Curiously, "Did you ever meet the parties who did?"
"...no."
Shaken. Disoriented. Reeling. Fragmented.
She felt as if she was moving through a world of solidified spirits. It took careful stepping to avoid jostling any unsuspecting dreams. And the scent of fear was stronger now, there were tiny pockets which had that level dropping down again and they manifested where Fancypants stopped to offer explanation -- but so many were staring at her. Seeing her as something wrong, which didn't even understand the most fundamental things about how the world worked. Something which would continue until the story had fully spread --
-- something which might go on for the rest of her life...
"Whose courtyard this is." With the reminder overhead. At the press conference. It's always been right there.
And, much deeper down, almost lost within twisting layers of greater confusion and broken reality:
...I had a reaction to an artificial moon?
"Centaur?"
She glanced down. Brown eyes stared up at her. The tail wasn't rotating.
"Centaur not moving well," Yapper decided, voice pitched as close to a whisper as the canid could probably come. (Not that it mattered. No one was coming close now.) "Centaur smells sick. Maybe centaur should go home --"
I don't have a home.
I might never go home.
"I am fine."
The canid huffed. Planted pseudohands on minimal hips.
"Centaur not funny," she repeated. "Also not a great liar --"
"-- I," the girl announced, "am fine. I am simply going to join the gaming area." Presuming she didn't empty it out. "There appears to be something of a squabble developing. Most likely a misinterpretation of the rules." Also her fault. "Explanation might assist. If thou woulds't grant pardon --"
And with that, she moved away. The crowd parted before her, and she could see the sketched-out gameboards. Poorly sketched. Another example of just how minimal her skills truly were.
She moved past sapients. Around them. And, nearly lost at the edge of her peripheral vision, a speckled white overweight body in an ill-fitted garment began to move.
Cerea didn't see much of the approach. She scented it, but... he was just one more current of fear within the miasma. In a way, she only truly spotted him when he finished the journey, and that was because he made certain to put himself in a place where she could see his chosen mask.
He was short: not just when compared to her, but for an earth pony. Having extra mass bulging out to the sides really didn't seem to compensate. So he decided to go with the simplest solution, and jumped to the top of a low table.
She heard the crash of his hooves upon the wood, instinctively looked in that direction, rotated just a little. She always had to be careful about rotating in a crowd. Her lower torso readily acquired momentum, and... she'd launched her beloved once. A side impact. He was so small, weighed so little, and... it was so easy to hurt him...
The stallion stared at her: something which wasn't quite level, as even the table didn't give him enough height for that. Just -- close enough, from about half a meter away. Staring through a mask of indifference. Something he'd chosen, had spent extensive time in rehearsing, but... she could scent the truth. The terror lurking under all of it.
But it was about how you used it...
"I'd been hoping for a chance," Puff Weevil announced to the room. "I almost felt like you were avoiding me."
You were staying away from me, offered up a fragment. All night, until you were ready --
This was a politician: she remembered that much from the briefing book. Even after tonight, she would still be a palace employee: simply in a different capacity. She represented the Diarchy. She couldn't cause offense.
"Time and tide," Cerea said. "The second pusheth me from one part of the gathering to the next, and occupies the first. We meet now, sirrah. Speak thy piece: I shall listen."
The speckled ears twisted a little. Focused forward, as a portion of the crowd began to slowly approach. Putting themselves in a position where they too could hear. She smelled some of that, picked up other portions with different senses. A glimpse of flaring wings and, mostly hidden under the indistinct translation of mutters produced by the disc, the sound of clacking beaks.
"I wasn't expecting you to bring a date," the Night Court representative admitted. "I'm sure you understand that. Nopony did. Not that I see this as a romantic connection, of course."
She would have expected a politician's smile to be more precise. Less of a fully open lie.
"'tis not," she quickly said. "I had simply --"
"You just came with another predator."
She heard the intake of breaths all around her. Cerea wasn't sure where Yapper was in the crowd, couldn't know if the canid had heard --
Something dark was in the politician's eyes. Dark, solid, and -- determined.
There were times when fear disguised itself as control...
"You can take all the fruits and vegetables out of the Lunar Kitchen that you like," Puff stated. "In fact, I hear that you take more for yourself than any two other ponies. Something of a drain on the budget, I imagine. You can move bale-tons of plant matter -- but you can't move your eyes." The squint forward was openly faked. "It's amazing how many won't let themselves see that. When a simple look tells the world what you are. Especially when you're the one looking. Searching for the next catch from the hunt."
The beaks were clacking faster. Getting closer.
Griffons, he's offending the griffons and he doesn't care, they might as well not even be here...
"I hast no passion for the hunt!" she protested. "Never have I taken down anything that breathes for meal or sport! Simply in defense --"
"-- but putting you at the party lets everypony see that," he cut her off, and added a theatrical tail swish to the words. "Everypony who's willing to see. And do you know something? I'm glad for the party. The base concept of it, anyway." The snort gave it an extra level of lie. "I've been thinking about that, and I'm willing to offer some of the credit to you. Ponies should meet Guards. Ponies don't understand Guards. Because Guards don't think like the herd, do they? The herd cares about the safety of the herd." His volume was increasing, and progressively deeper breaths put visible strain on the seams of the ill-fitting suit. "While a Guard would let any herd die, because they're only capable of caring about one --"
Would it have been any easier, if she hadn't overheard Jet Set? She would wonder about that, long after reason had returned, and -- she didn't know. There was only so much she could have said to the politician in any case, and... perhaps it would have been easier, if she could have pretended to be somewhat more intact. At least to the level towards which she pretended every day. But she was disoriented. Reeling. Bailing wire wasn't an option and spit represented more of a binding agent than she had available.
Her hooves were trying to caper. She was having trouble keeping her tail still. Her lungs felt like they were sending air to the wrong place, and a mind which couldn't manage the Second Breath also felt like it was fighting for oxygen. But she had recently acquired information, taken custody of the casually impossible. And even if so much of her didn't want to know any of it -- the fresh knowledge still gave her an answer to give. She just didn't understand why somepony who'd grown up being told everything from the start wasn't seeing it.
"To save that one," Cerea stated, "is, after the disaster hath passed, to save all who yet breathe. My duty is to guard Princess Luna, sir. How would the world manage without Moon?"
And he snorted.
"Princess Celestia can deal with Sun and Moon," Puff Weevil stated. "Everypony knows that, because it's the way things used to be. And besides, even if they were both lost -- not that anypony wants to see that happen, of course -- some of us remember the old legends."
Apparently it wasn't everyone, because "What old legends?" came from a donkey on the far right. And the olfactory tide was shifting, a fast-rising swell of offense...
Another snort. "Any four unicorns can work together and raise Sun or Moon. Once." And he made the mistake of adding a small snicker. "It's supposed to permanently drain all of their magic, but that's not even a sacrifice, is it? Not when you trade it for a sunrise. And it's not as if we're likely to run out of unicorns any time soon --"
Cerea would be told more about him in the aftermath, things which hadn't been in the briefing book. About Tattler districts and echo chambers, things which could lead somepony to speak so freely because they almost always existed in a place where every listener agreed with them. Puff Weevil hardly ever needed to read the room: in many ways, he was something which his standard audience had written.
To the ears of multiple listeners, he'd just suggested that having what might be thousands of unicorns lose their magic wasn't really a sacrifice. Most of them weren't happy. And a new current suggested that Fancypants had turned a little too quickly, partially reopened a small section of the wound. That faint wash of blood was trying to approach, and it wouldn't reach them in time.
"Four," repeated part of the lessons which the girl had taken from the training grounds.
"Just four --"
"The most unicorns who can combine their strength on any effect," Cerea stated, "is three. Making your legend into what so many of them ultimately represent, sirrah. Somepony's wish. A falsehood. One more dream to stave off the dark."
He stared at her, and a blast of olfactory anger surged through the terror.
"And you know our magic so much better than we do," the earth pony decided. "Behold the wisdom of the centaurs. Those who understand magic best --"
Frantically, "-- 'twas part of training --"
I'm breathing too fast, this is
"-- because they need to know about what they take." His hooves shifted on the table, and she recognized that he'd almost tried to pace. There just wasn't enough room. "But I thought about it, having the city meet Guards. I think that's a good idea. It's why I'm putting a bill into the Night Court."
He took a breath. Left the crowd waiting for the rest of it, as he basked in open satisfaction.
"It's not much to ask for, and that's why I'm sure it'll pass," he declared. "Having every new Guard work with the city's police for a few moons. Not sequestered in the palace, but out on the streets. Among the people. Hearing their voices. And I only have to make the starting date slightly retroactive --"
She was still working through her citizenship classes. And they'd reached that part of the course, there was a spinning fragment of the girl which did understand that Princess Luna would need to sign the bill -- but she couldn't picture any other result. It wasn't much to ask for. Not for anypony among the Guard.
But she wasn't a pony.
She was something they saw as a monster.
"'tis too soon!" And the protest was open, desperate, her arms were starting to gesture and they weren't used to that kind of expression, her hands were twisting and her breathing was too fast... "The palace is trying, but -- sirrah, the one-sheet was but this eve! The populace -- the timing is not --"
It's coming, the panic attack is coming
He couldn't pace. The table still gave him just enough room to advance.
"And what is the plan?" he demanded, head thrusting forward, jaw arcing over her breasts as hot breath blasted against her nostrils. "Princess Luna doesn't stay in the palace all of the time, no matter how much some ponies might long for it! The ones who are waiting for it all to happen again --"
She didn't know what he was talking about. But some did, because there was another shockwave in the olfactory world. Anger, outrage -- but they were barely detectable, not when the fear was surging...
She couldn't think. It felt as if it was taking everything she had to keep from running, and there was so little left.
"-- but she just keeps going out, so they get to wait, don't they? To see if it happens in front of them, when nopony's ever really been told about what happened the first time! And even without that, even if miracles hold --"
She was trying not to pull back, there were too many sapients watching, listening, letting it happen while Fancypants tried to get closer and there was another, more distant snort at the politician's words, heavier hooves shifting forward and a near-bovine scent on the approach --
"-- what kind of Guard would you be, who can't even step outside without making it all worse! How do you Guard her, when a trip to the Heart sets off a riot? If there's a diplomatic mission, and you have to be explained to another nation? About how you're a predator, one who brings games which are all about control and conquest of territory? The product of a species born for war! Everything you do, say, create, EVERYTHING proves what you are! You can't live in the palace forever, centaur! What happens on the day you leave?"
...they're human games...
She couldn't offend him. The last piece of her, the one which was trying to resist -- it didn't offer anything to say. To offer insult was to grant him a victory, and she didn't have one anyway. To turn away in silence was open surrender. But he was just about on top of her, opening his mouth any wider would put him into her and she didn't want that, didn't want him to touch her, refused to let that happen, he was leaning further forward and she stepped back.
Her right hind hoof kicked something. There was a cry of pain.
It was instinct. Everything which happened next was instinct. Someone was in pain. She'd caused it. She had to see how bad it was, to apologize, to fail at making it right when all she ever did was make things worse.
Cerea turned, and did so at a speed which only a centaur could have managed. And her hindquarters didn't slam against a single being, because none had wanted to get that close to her. She'd been standing within an open circle of rage and challenge, bordered on all sides by the terror of life. There was enough room to turn.
But her tail moved with her. It slapped the politician's face.
He yelped. Teeth parted, clamped down just as she completed the half-rotation. Yanked.
It made her cry out. She hadn't been expecting the pain, and there was nothing left in her to block its open expression. And the next instinct was to rear up, her forelegs pushing off the floor in a surge of strength, carrying her to a height which no one else in the room knew, she was above them all for a second and saw where the ambassador was, how close Yapper had come, that Fancypants was but three meters out and that was all she saw before all of her weight crashed back down as the prelude to bringing up her hind legs --
-- her forehooves landed. Her upper torso automatically bent. Forward and down.
It put her among the flock, or the pride. The sound of frantically clacking beaks coming from multiple startled, unnerved, scared griffons.
Instinct. All of it, including theirs. The one which made their eyes open wider, meet her own --
-- no...
It would be her last true thought for some time.
Is it cumulative? She can't seem to remember that. She can't seem to think.
There are eyes. There's a moment when those strange eyes are the only things which exist, and then a question goes into her soul. It asks who she is, how strong she is, whether she's predator or prey, and a centaur has aspects of both. But the eyes don't lie, and neither do the teeth. She could hunt, if she wished. If there was any meat pure enough to be consumed, then... she's wondered. Her first days in Japan were a time of experimentation, and just because a supposedly-organic bowl wasn't pure enough doesn't mean there might not be a time when she tried again --
-- there is a predator in her, deep down. Another connection to the humans. But it's something she denies, because she pushes back so much about herself. Pushes, or has felt others push.
The question is in her. It has plenty of room in which to move, because her soul feels like a broken jigsaw, something where the image was assembled from pieces which never truly fit together. Held fast by broken bailing wire and evaporated spit and willpower which has just run out. The question gets louder, it demands, and it's being asked over and over again. Every time she tries to answer, it comes at her from a different direction, it has her surrounded and
is the force of griffon magic cumulative? Or is she simply fighting off attempt after attempt?
She can't remember. And it doesn't matter.
She tried to tell her friend, the one she shouldn't have, doesn't deserve. She tried to tell the Sergeant. Anything less than perfection is failure.
Perhaps she blocked almost every attack.
All but one.
Or... she stopped them all, even without the hairpins. She doesn't know.
But even when you resist, there's always an effect. Always.
Something breaks.
fight
she can fight
she has the sword and they have her surrounded, the reek of terror is a prelude to attack, it's just like it was at the town when there's so many of them but she's the largest and her weapon stops their magic, stops magic of every kind when the only way so many of them know how to fight is with that magic and
imagine what she could do to them
if she wasn't so nice
a reek of terror, a miasma, fog, submerged in an ocean of dread
but some of the wisps are
familiar
a pony, a canid, something like a bull with foreign aspects mixed in
she can't hurt them
she can't fight
can't
deepest instincts are all she is now, she has no experience of this, it's worse than a full moon and somewhere deep within, a single neuron fires off a bitter comment about how when brought to the point of deepest instinct, she wasn't given an overwhelming need to apologize
she can't fight
so she runs
and she can run faster than anything in the room, perhaps faster than anything in the world, but she can't hurt anyone she can't and perhaps she screams, a scream heard by all in their own native tongues, something which tells them to get out of the way
or they might have just moved
there's a centaur starting to accelerate, but she's terrified of hurting someone and it means that within three seconds of losing herself, there's a jump which vaults multiple sapients as screams come up from below her
there's a clear space to land, she's getting some momentum now
the minotaur is in front of her
she can't go over him, there's no space to go around and
they like to wrestle
horns offer the gift of leverage points
reach out, twist, throw to one side
no more minotaur, and no more music, and there's screaming all around her, she's moving faster and the shield spells were set up to detect motion, to channel a runner, they're going off at her flanks and the resulting corridor is too narrow, so instinct sends her hand to the sword's hilt, she gets it clear and everywhere the sword goes, the shields are gone
more screaming
because of the sword
because of her
because she exists
but she can run now, she has to get out and a memorized map flashes into her mind on a level below thought, she knows which way 'out' requires, she's been confined for months and moons and years and a lifetime and she needs space, open space in which to run and they scatter out of her way, all of them but some aren't fast enough and
she doesn't hurt any
she goes around, over, but never through
that too is instinct
the doors are in front of her
the patio
there are heating wonders warming the air, ponies and donkeys scattering, and then she's past all of it into the open and cold and out of confinement except that there's something looming in front of her, one last barrier made of light and shouting bodies beyond it, ones which have just noticed her but that's the way out
the sword slashes
the shield starts to fail
she plunges through
and the centaur is among the protestors
most of what she ultimately remembers are the screams
they are running, nearly all of them are running because they weren't expecting this and for the ones which fight, the sword moves, slashes until vapor dissipates, light falls apart, the flat of the blade pushes on a suddenly-weak back and forces legs to splay across cobblestone
she can't count them, because that's not instinct
the numbers are too many
the count for those who get their attacks through is zero
they weren't ready for this, for any of it
(but they'll be better prepared the next time)
and she doesn't register faces because those aren't important
a face she can see is something in the way
she vaults and dodges and swings and the world opens up before her, there's a road and
she knows about roads
gallop down this one fast enough, far enough, let it change
let it take her home
she's clear, the protestors (or what's left of their scattered numbers) are behind her, now she can truly run, she's going faster and faster, she just needs to reach her top speed and stone will become dirt will become
there are wings above her, powerful ones, closing fast
she has to protect every angle
she looks up
and there's a monster diving towards her
black fur for the entire body, with an extra tuft at the tips of pointed ears, a thick layer of black skin stretched between the splayed bones of a hand forced to stretch, bend, distort into a wing, the silver eyes have pupils which are vertically slit and the monster's mouth is open, trying to say something, it's screaming syllables in fear and desperation and that just lets her see the fangs
it's wearing armor, the monster is armored and she doesn't know what it might be able to do, it's diving straight at her, trying to get in front of her, it's calling out what might be a name and that's just a distraction, this could be new magic from a new monster and she knows how to deal with magic, so the sword comes up and
the scent reaches her
the armor can't do anything about the scent
the scent she knows
the one she welcomes
the one where all the fear just came back and nothing in the girl understands that the sapient is afraid for her
the sword is moving
Muscles wrenched against each other, almost injured the centaur from within: the strain of redirecting so much force in so little time, with nowhere to put it but deep into the bone. She did everything she could to stop it, in the first moment when thought returned. And it wasn't enough.
She was aware of the screams behind her. The terror. But only in a distant way, and for something less than a second.
The sword had been slowed. Twisted in the middle of the swing. It hadn't been stopped, and the flat of the blade slammed into the armor.
The enchantment broke. An illusion crafted to precisely match every movement of the wearer dissipated in an instant.
The stretched skin, so much like a bat's wing, was gone. There were black feathers now. An open mouth lost its fangs, and the vertical pupils flashed into dark pools of horror within silver lakes.
Cerea saw all of it at the moment of impact. In the split-second before the force drove the pegasus out of the sky.
Armor clattered against stone, continued to do so as the little knight rolled. Wings were pressed between mineral and metal, over and over.
"...no!"
And the centaur was down on the stone now, belly and barrel pulling in cold, reaching out for the fallen body -- but outstretched fingers stopped, just short of the fur. She couldn't touch the pegasus. She'd hurt her only friend, again. She had no right...
The pony was breathing. The silver eyes were open. Staring at Cerea. And behind them, other Guards were swooping in, with many of them doing so on illusion-coated wings. Multiple ground-assigned Guards and police officers were close behind. Some were trying to keep shouting protestors back. Small shields were being raised, and it felt like that wasn't happening fast enough. A shadow in the rough shape of a unicorn mare focused its attention from place to place and wherever the mobile darkness looked, green-grey flashed into existence around another two of those who were trying to get too close, just before the colors split into their components and sent that pair of hue-surrounded ponies tumbling in opposite directions.
And Cerea didn't care.
"Nightwatch...!"
"I'm..." All four splayed legs kicked a little. Wings tried to refold, flared back to full span in a surge of pain. "I'm okay. I'll be okay. After I get my wings looked at." The little knight got her hooves under her, forced herself to stand up and looked at frantic, weeping blue eyes. "Cerea, we have to get you out of here...!"
But that didn't matter either. Because Nightwatch would lie if she thought it would make the girl feel better, might have lied before, and behind them were screaming ponies and more fallen forms and a party which had, all ways, broken up.
She'd gone out of bounds.
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Oh dear zog, now she's never going to let go of the fixation..
Wow, that was even more of a disaster than I thought it would be. Like, that other bunch of bigots went to the trouble of smuggling a maniac in, and she didn't even have a chance to go off.
And batponies have finally been officially ruled out. But seaponies could totally still exist. Shoo-be-doo.
Ponyville police chief Miranda Rights, as seen in other works by Estee. We were told earlier that they were bringing outside people in.
10972690
Is Miranda the first Ponyville Resident to see Cerea?
Well.... shit.
10972633
Actually, if they had planned on their maniac going off in a "controlled burst" (as it were) then the fact that the maniac didn't get that chance might just cause her to go off in ways they can't control. Which would probably be WORSE.
Well, shit.
10972710
Besides Cheerilee and her class? Seems likely to me.
10972710
Cheerilee was the first to see Cerea, with Apple Bloom being the first to speak to her.
Another chapter of Cerea Isn't Allowed To Be Happy: The Series.
*takes a breath*
It's Estee. There's always dark before the dawning...
You weren't lying when you said something about the party being a disaster.
Frankly, who let that xenophobic maniac Puff Weevil in here?
Considering early chapters went into the many forms fear can take and how Cerea is going to end up against Luna in some way, I think this disaster was entirely inevitable because Luna doesn't seem to ever have stopped and had a proper conversation with Cerea about what she wants. She forced her to be fitted, forced her to give them the more familiar form of her name that she didn't want to share, effectively forced her into the guard because she didn't tell Cerea about how she had to get a job, forced Cerea to attend the party, set down the rules for where Cerea could go and when.
Cerea would probably agree with these things if a conversation took place but Luna never bothered because she saw Cerea's dreams and figured she'd be ok with it all. Because Luna is scared that Equestria can't accept people it sees as monsters and is trying to get them to accept Cerea as proxy for her, because Celestia did most of the work when she came back.
So it really was the hair clip that disrupted the griffin magic in training and now she was blasted by a whole bunch of them at once. No wonder she was terrified.
But wait. Since there was that whole clear circle of space around her when Puff was vomiting his hate speech, who did she stepped on when she took a step back? Everyone was staying clear of her and since she is so big and tall, her hind leg seems like something one would stay clear off.
10972816
And the Dawn is pretty damn dark too...
Clearly Cerea has issues with instinct like other ponies... granted, not a real solution to what's already blown up.
10972816
It's Estee. Dawn may come, but that doesn't mean it's light is warm...
10972840
Dangum, that's probably it exactly. Dot's gonna be a big oof if true.
In hindsight, as much as I hate to admit it Puff Weevil has a point, how was this guard business supposed to work? The protests are a clear indication that this isn't gaining much traction with the commons, you can't really keep the peace when everyone's terrified of you.
is the last.. part supposed to be all messed up or is it format/display error?
10972840
I dunno,but in early chapters Princesses asked Cerea what she want: she can be blacksmith,move on island or join the guards. Choice is hers.
Idea of party was not very good, but Cerea must learn how to answer to bigote like Puff WE Evil --D
Well, that went poorly. The only way it actually could have gone worse is if she ended up trampling one of these pint sized, panicky morons. And yet that would have been oddly satisfying in it’s own way. If this were a video game, I’d have almost certainly gone the “evil” route by now, rather than endure the endless heaps of abuse from people who ought to be taken down a peg or ten. Really work that flat of that sword and start smacking everything that looks at me sideways.
🎉 Nice chapter, but I’m really gonna be squinting for anything nice to happen to Cerea. Hell, give the girl a damn cat or something.
*deep sigh*
But Cerea has this antiquated fascination of chivalrous knights on top of a genuine desire to do good, and an utter lack of self esteem. So instead we’ll watch her continue to fail and be miserable.
Whew. That was rough. Poor Cerea.
Poor centaur girl. But at least this will force a conversation with the princesses. And with her likely believing she lost everything, again, she'll have no compulsions against asking about Sun and Moon. Revealing she knows the truth - and by doing do revealing there's no one more worthy to be the Moon Knight.
She still needs all the hugs though
Welp.
I like how Cerea spent all that time in guard training and the upshot of it was that she could very efficiently fuck up a party.
10973094
Dear artists of the world,
I dare you.
Breakng silence for point of honour (in a metaphorical sense), because Cerea is actually straight wrong here (though she would likely not have done the research, to be fair). It is, by best astronomic predictions ENTIRELY possible for life to exist on tidally locked worlds. Leaving aside planets tide-locked to red dwarfs are among the most likely non-Earth life candidates, there are many suggestions that Earth would be just as capable of supporting life if tidelocked.
(One of the major things was that an dark-side ocean and cloud-cover reflection on the sub-solar-point (the point nearest the sun) is believed would significantly stabilise the temperature,)
I spent several months dong astrophysics maths with people on a physics board working out the feasibility of such a world for an entirely-alien campaign world I worked on. There were inly two points of handwavium needed, and both of those were soley due to it being set around a handwavily-old RCB varible star with handwavily-long periods of dimming; aside from the star itself, the only thing I couldn't a plausibly-mathed anser for was having to have an artfiically strong magnetosphere to stop the atmosphere blowing off from the solar wind from a vastly stronger sun 105 AU away.
And in the wake of that, Equestria being on a now-tidally locked planet after some historical catasptrphy (since life there still runs on circadian cycles) made a disturbing amount of sense.
(Also, Star Trek V, wasn't that bad, I enjoyed it plenty myself - albeit before I started watching Funny Internet Critics an developed a more analytical mental habit.
Though Spock's question is the dumbest part of the movie, to be fair. Why WOULDN'T God want a starship? Starships are the best thing in the entire universe. Certainly vastly better than people, and nobody ever asks "what does God want with a person?" now do they? Which they should.)
Just me? As always...
I think Cerea has it better, to be honest; for all the biological and physical differences, her surrounding species isn't nearly so fundementally mentally alien as the one around me.
"Puff Weezil hardly ever needed"
"Puff Weevil hardly ever needed"?
"with many of them doing on illusion-coated wings"
"with many of them doing so on illusion-coated wings"?
...Argh. And that cliffhanger!
Thank you for writing, Estee. :D
Damn it Cerea!
There should have been more emphasis on who to be aware of and brief her. Blah. Improbable considering the too soon timing of the party. Tsk...
The saddest thing about this chapter is that they were coming to her defense until the literal misstep. I do wonder who got in close enough to be stepped on. My original assumption was one of the griffins. It was an impressively bad end to what was a lookin g to be a pretty effective party.
It makes me wonder what the significance of pulling ponyville’s police force will have. There was some talk about the arsonist and I wonder if that might be a bit of a bait and switch. Maybe Sweetie’s house is in fire as we speak.
10973206
They do. Especially when Biblical literalists claim to also hold the modern mainstream Christian belief in an omnipotent, omniscient, absolutely self-sufficient, benevolent God, because the Garden of Eden story was clearly not written by people who held this conception of God. And neither was the Noah's Ark story, or the Tower of Babel story, or the Book of Judges, or... you get the idea. That conception of God did not appear until way later in Jewish thought, through interacting with Persian Zoroastrianism.
Also, some would argue that this conception of God is logically impossible in the first place.
With other kinds of deity (eg, Dungeons-and-Dragons/Discworld, which are basically MLP Changelings but feeding on belief instead of love; or Ancient Greek deities, who were ageless but limited in power, reach, and knowledge), it makes a lot more sense what God would want people for. And also why God would need a starship. Or have trouble defeating iron chariots.
This does raise the question of how dragonbreath works, but that's a very different subject than orbital mechanics. I assume.
And she still thinks she has to do it alone. Poor girl. She really can't see how badly her mother scarred her.
At this point, I'm just grateful for the assurance that there will be future years.
Heh. I do appreciate Fancy appreciating the magnitude of the being before him, even if he may still be thinking smaller than what is strictly accurate.
... Huh. That is a peculiarity. I don't know enough about her home series to try to untangle that one; no idea how well a psychosomatic response could explain it.
Yeah, that definitely could have gone better. We'll see just what the fallout looks like from all of this, but I can't imagine it will be pretty. At least there are a lot of witnesses to the straw that broke the centaur's back.
10973206
i've read several sci-fi stories about people who lived on worlds that always had one side toward the sun.
in one of them, everyone lived underground.
Which the Sun does... A LOT. Without the magnetosphere of Earth we would be QUITE different if existing at all..
"Cerea, we have to get you out of here!"
Why do I hear RPG encounter music?
Oh...
10973121
The question is: Which Moon Knight? There’s a couple of franchises with a character of that name…
I didn't realize it was not commonly known she's literally not from their dimension.
10973554
Yeah, when people think of tidelocked worlds they forget that the oceans and atmosphere are going to circulate a lot and even the temperature out enough for a large temperate zone to form.
Venus is almost tidelocked, but it's uniformly hot because the atmosphere is so darn thick.
There are ways a planet close to a small red star might avoid becoming tidelocked and maintain a magnetic field to protect it's atmosphere.
It could have a moon nearly as big as the planet itself and be tidelocked to that, or be one of the moons of a gas giant orbiting the star close in.
One neat thing about a solar tidelocked would is that shadows cast by geological features would remain the same for ages, so the vegetation would follow that outline exactly. Plants needing full sun would stop outside the shadow and plants that less light would fill the shady areas.
As for the psychosomatic effects of the artificial moon on Cerea, that makes sense because that's the only way a natural moon could affect her as well. Many species regulate certain behaviors by the light of the full moon. You see it mostly in sea creatures due to it also affecting the tides, making it a very important thing for coastal species to pay attention to.
So, they brought Miranda in ....
10973403 Do not go giving Estee more evil ideas!
10973528 In the official court records, yes ... as far as Puff Weasel, the Tatteler and the rest are concerned "the centaur just went mad when confronted and started attacking everypony" is all that will ever be heard or believed
10973471
Bible literalists. :eyeroll:
When the word ‘homosexual’ wasn’t in the translations until the 1940s, before that the 2 words translated that way were always ‘child molesters’. Big change, but so helpful for optics and the ‘new’ morality push that was happening after Germany burned the Institutes’ books.
How fast they forget their own history, eh?
10974394
I share your eyeroll for people who insist on strictly literal interpretations of the Bible (especially the first several chapters of Genesis), but if you're referring to the Hebrew Bible, neither "homosexual" nor "child molester" would appear in any decent translation. Can't speak to the NT, as my koine Greek is pretty much non-existent.
It's an interesting point about MOON maybe being there to control the tides, but do we even know that this world has tides? And if it does then MOON and SUN do indeed need to have some fairly impressive mass even if they are much closer.
I wonder how we first calculated how large and far away the sun and moon were and if it can be done easily on another world? Does it have anything to do with the size of shadows?
The idea of MOON being the back up Sun is interesting, of course even more interested (and scary) is if SUN is the back up Sun and MOON was the original it indicates that either it does indeed have a lifetime or that it broke and the same could happen to SUN at any time.
Fancypants being able to extend his reasoning enough to think that there could be other SUNs and MOONs out there and that they could be controlled by non-princesses but not that they could be something completely different and run by themselves is a fantastic demonstration of how far someone can imagine while still being limited by their own culture and experiences.
10974669
No, this little translation boondoggle started with the Revised Standard Version and spread out from there. This is strictly a Christian thing, centering around the Pauline letters (or pretending-to-be-Paul, as the case may be; pseudepigrapha is the 'proper' term, I believe?).
If there was an open enough circle that she could spin around and turn, then how did she step on someone? Why would a politician bite down on a tail that slaps him? You'd think his first instinct would be to spit and back pedal.
It's not nice to catapult an idiot ball just to make drama happen.
10974805
Circles have edges. A hind hoof went into someone as she was backing up: the one who was furthest forward. Once she started moving faster, there were attendees getting out of the way. And ponies bite down on tails a lot: see Applejack for details.
Y'know, there are people who put images and short videos as embeds into their stories. I think I need miniatures and graph paper.
The palace is going to wind up backtracking exactly who was where, trying to figure out the precise sequence of events. This may mean a more detailed breakdown of positioning later.
10974805
I think you're forgetting how much horse-instinct Estee leaves in the ponies. It wasn't a politician biting the tail, it was a startled, angry pony getting a tail in the face. Startled, angry horses can flense parts of your body, pulling the tail of another horse in a tiff is standard.
But the blame lays elsewhere I think.
Things are not easy when you let instinct rule.
Well, that didn't turn out so great.
Theres two possibilities Ive seen that could be used for Sun and Moon.
One is that Magic is Dark Energy, and Dark Energy only has a local effect to itself, so you have a naked singularity in Equestria, because and balanced by the Dark Energy, while the sun and moon orbit in normal gravity outside, and are similar in size, watch out for those angles and areas in annular eclipses, and the princesses dont move them, they create asymetries in the dark energy field and that gets amplified by the self gravity of the object?
The other comes from a question I asked the universities head of fusion technology department back in the 80s. Is it possible to have a dynamically self sustaining plasma logic form?
Recently, in the 2020s, the sucess of an experiment was announced where researchers had used a large water tank to project 8 vortex rings from the corners of a cube arrangement, towards the center, every few seconds, and the vortices interaceted and formed a sustained spherical roiling mass. The fact the description looked remarkably like a minature sun wasnt mentioned anywhere.
More Research Required.
If the sun and moon are that powerful computers, how are they stopped becoming sentient due to shere information content, and if they are, what happens if they wake up or the code corrupts?
I wonder how many walls that idiot got punted through?
Hmm, there was Final Frontier a novel? The movie was definitaly the original source, unless they tried to commisson a Novel version later in hope it would be better - a dubious marketing choice.
I'm running out of space to tally up how many times Cerea's mental issues have been a problem, and yes I count each time she keeps putting herself down as worthless or not good enough. Seriously the sisters need to get this woman to a Therapist ASAP, getting ponies to accept her is vital but it tends to be a billion times easier to do when the person they have to accept is not constantly a hair's breath away from just mentally shattering.
Figure Luna would know that considering her own experience with how bad mental and emotional issues can get.
10981130
Considering they never bother with twilight i don't think they are going see a point in it. Plus not many ponies even want to be open minded when it comes to her so getting a doctor might be hard.
My personal theory on that is that MOON is another generator, but one that radiates in the thaumic spectra rather than the electromagnetic. So SUN provides light and warmth and fuels the "mundane" energy cycle, while MOON provides the ambient magic that lets Menajeria support so many magical creatures and such powerful magic.
So on this theory, if MOON were to be parked over... say Canterlot, then that whole side of the planet would become magically supercharged. All forms of magic would become easier, drain less of the user's energy and/or produce more powerful effects. The effect would be strongest right around Canterlot, of course, where MOON's energies are applied most directly, and would taper off as you got closer to the terminus. And then on the far side of the planet, magic would wither. Pegasi would be unable to lift off the ground for more than short bursts, unicorns might struggle to lift so much as a mug of water, earth ponies would find their bodies growing weak and their songs rapidly draining their reserves, and so forth. And of course if MOON breaks, magic all across Menajeria starts to fail.
Actually, it'd need to be fairly big and fairly far away. You're forgetting about the angles - a small, closer sun wouldn't produce shadows the way we know it does... But then, in order to test that, she'd need to go around the world, or at the very least half-way.
The only time you make backups on that scale, is when it's trivial to do so. No, it must have a purpose. I'm thinking gravitational stability - without a counterbalance, things tend to orbit each other.