True Beauty
Princess Celestia’s horn glowed a brilliant yellow as the sun slowly descended beneath the horizon. Saffron and cerise hues illuminated the clouds as the sun’s slowly diminishing light fought ever harder to pierce them.
Celestia stood outside on her balcony for half an hour, a maestro conducting a grand orchestra. Clouds floated over to their proper positions as she telekinetically manipulated them to be exactly where she wanted them. All around Equestria, thousands of ponies would be watching her work in awe, after all. She smiled as her visual symphony finally came to a close. Of her many royal duties, this one was one she would never tire of.
Princess Celestia walked back in from the balcony and into her bedroom. She left the door creaked open to let in the cool night air. She held a hoof up to her mouth, yawning. She used her magic to pull back the golden, ornate covers of her queen-sized bed. As she climbed in, she blew out the candle on her nightstand.
From across the room, Philomena the phoenix observed her master’s movements. As soon as she heard the princess snoring, she reached over with her talon and fiddled with the lock on her cage, careful to be as silent as possible. Within a few moments, she had the latch undone.
Philomena slowly slid the cage door open. It creaked slightly, but the princess did not stir from her slumber. She gazed furtively around the room, checking just to be sure that nopony else had entered the room and was observing her.
The phoenix stepped down from her cage and onto the ground below. She waddled over through the open balcony door, and hopped onto the railing.
Philomena gazed back at the sleeping princess one final time, and then flapped her wings, taking off into the night air. The cool, gentle breeze lightly blew against her fiery body as she ascended higher and higher into the sky above Canterlot.
All below her, she could see the cobblestone streets of the ancient capital city, the grand marble domes and columns of the buildings, the spires of its towers. Old gas light lamps illuminated the roads as bespectacled nobles and suited businessmen walked home for the evening.
She soared above the streets of the town. A few of the ponies gazed up at the sky in curiosity, quizzical looks on their faces. Most of them, though, were too absorbed in their own concerns to notice her.
As she flew across the city, she eventually reached the sloping mountainside upon which the city sat. She flapped her wings vigorously, gaining altitude. As she ascended, her breathing became heavier and heavier as the air became thinner and thinner.
Finally, she reached the mountain peak. She took a short rest, perching atop the snow-capped mountaintop. As she reached the ground, snow melted all around her fiery body. Were a pony in Canterlot to be looking, he could see a small pinprick of light from her plumage.
Fully rested, Philomena took off once more. The descent would be much easier; all it required was some gliding. She descended the slope, staying only a short distance off the ground.
She weaved deftly in between the snowy evergreen tree branches. As she flew past them, the snow turned to mush from the heat of her feathers.
Finally, she reached flat land once more. She continued flying onwards through untamed wilderness. Rock formations formed from thousands of years of wind jutted out of the landscape. Arches, buttes, boulders, and crags dotted the desert.
Soon, she reached the forest. Thousands upon thousands of towering Evergreen trees dotted the landscape. Mighty rivers snaked and weaved through the forest, its passage making a great rumbling. Philomena flew above the water, following its path.
Eventually, Philomena reached a great waterfall: the Neighagra Falls. She descended closer and closer to the water until she could feel the droplets of the rapids splashing up and hitting her feathers. They sizzled and turned to steam upon contact.
She saw the edge of the river where the water began its descent towards the lake below. She reached the edge of the falls, paused for a moment, and then dive-bombed towards the lake below. The wind whipped her feathers and the lake raced up towards her as her cry pierced the air. Then, at the last second, she pulled up, avoiding hitting the lake.
Her fiery heart raced in her chest. She hadn’t felt so alive since Celestia had taken her for a pet.
Off in the distance, she could see the night sky lit up with an orange glow. Off on the horizon, skyscrapers illuminated the night sky. Lines of light lit up the ground all around like spider webs. She was gazing upon the city of Manehattan.
She flew onward, and the peaceful quiet of the forest was gradually replaced by noises of the city that never slept as trees faded into cottages which faded into houses which faded into office buildings and apartment complexes.
Even late at night, hundreds of ponies walked the streets of the city. Flashing neon signs shouted of the best grocery stores and cinemas. Ponies carried carriages and carts through the streets, stopping at the traffic signals. Manehattan was the vast engine of commerce which powered the lives of millions of ponies, enabling them to have their comforts and standards of living. It was all in this city.
Philomena flew down the streets. As in Canterlot, most of the ponies did not notice her. A few of them stopped on the streets and gazed up at her, as the light from her feathers was far brighter than the lights of the buildings.
She stopped for a moment, hovered, and screeched at them, spreading her wings and flapping as embers fell to the ground, burning themselves out in a few moments. The sound of the crackling of flames filled the air. The ponies oohed and aahed, and Philomena was on her way once more.
Finally, she reached the harbor. By this time, the night was almost over. She perched atop a skyscraper’s spire as she gazed at the vast and endless expanse of sea beyond.
Then, she gazed back towards home. Even with her superior vision, she could just barely make out the mountain and the city of Canterlot; it appeared to her to be little more than a pinprick of light.
The Princess would soon awake in her room, in her gorgeous marble castle. She would orchestrate a beautiful sunrise, controlling it all. She would illuminate her beautiful country, ruling it all. She would look for her beautiful pet with its brilliant fiery feathers and awe-inspiring shriek, and Celestia would wonder why Philomena wasn’t exactly where she wanted her to be.
Because some things are too beautiful to be kept locked up. True beauty is free.
Philomena glanced back at the harbor. Beyond was freedom, independence. No more cages. She could feel the wind in her feathers. She could fly when she wanted.
She flapped her wings, and took off into the distance.