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"What is harmony but the suppression of free will?"
Celestia stopped writing on the chalkboard for a second, wondering if she had heard correctly. "What?"
"Harmony only exists when ponies get along. Ponies get along best when they are not different. Differences are caused by free will. So, isn't the fastest path to harmony the absolution of free will?"
It didn't sound like she was speaking out of cynicism. Or that it was a joke. She sounded serious. Celestia hesitated. "No."
"Why?"
It was a hideous idea. Absolutely hideous. But Celestia had trouble thinking of a rebuttal on the spot. Why didn't she…? No, it was absurd. But she had to think of something. "Because… the fastest answer is not always necessarily the best."
Celestia was fairly proud of her answer, especially for coming up with it so quickly, but her student hardly seemed convinced. "…yes."
Celestia continued the lesson, but she had the oddest feeling she was being watched. After another half hour, they were dismissed.
Celestia turned to watch her student leave. "Goodbye, Starlight Glimmer."
Starlight Glimmer turned back. "Goodbye, dear Celestia."
– – – –
After Sunset Shimmer, Celestia had fallen into a deep depression. She felt she had failed as a teacher, as a mentor… as the closest thing to a mother she would know.
When Sunset ran away through the mirror, Celestia could have followed. She could have tried to talk her back. But what if she made things worse? What if she became trapped there? She had responsibilities here, but for all she knew, the other side of that mirror was Hell. Sunset could have been trapped there, slowly burning away in shackles, waiting for someone to save her.
But still, Celestia couldn't follow.
It was inevitable. Doing so would have been irresponsible. But still, she felt like a failure.
Her spirits only improved when she met Starlight Glimmer. She seemed perfect. Just like Sunset Shimmer, except with the problems fixed. She had a strong sense of justice and a natural thirst for knowledge, so she wouldn't cheat. She was tirelessly devoted to friendship and harmony, so she wouldn't bully anyone. Her magic was orders of magnitude stronger than her peers. Even her name was similar!
Celestia, almost without hesitation, asked her to be her student.
Starlight Glimmer, almost without hesitation, accepted.
At first, it was great fun, just as it was with Sunset Shimmer. But then, as time passed, something about Starlight Glimmer changed. Her devotion to friendship and harmony remained the same, but everything else about her began to fade away. She spoke of almost nothing else. She isolated herself more and more. The castle staff was beginning to find her quite unsettling. Celestia assured them it was just the eccentricities that came with intelligence, but sometimes, she wasn't sure. Sometimes, she caught a look in her eyes that chilled her to the bone. It wasn't like the bitter, angry eyes of Sunset Shimmer—that hurt, but she could handle that. It at least seemed rational.
Starlight Glimmer, however, would occasionally lapse into a piercing yet vacant glare, a glare that seemed to look past you, as if you were nothing more than the tiniest ant.
That was the look she had on her face during class. When she asked that question.
Where had that glare come from?
– – – –
Celestia was walking down the hall when she saw a maid leaning against a column, breathing heavily, with a pale face.
"What's wrong?" she said, immediately coming over.
"Oh, I'm sorry, your highness!" the maid got out, attempting to curtsy. "I should get back to…"
"No, you look terrible," Celestia said. "What happened?"
The maid swallowed. "I found… look over there."
She pointed around the corner, and Celestia walked over to investigate.
There, on the ground, was the slightly decomposed corpse of a squirrel. It looked emaciated. What parts of it were intact, Celestia could see were unnaturally thin.
"Where did you find…?"
"It was on the tree branch outside the window," the maid said. "It was just… sitting there. Not doing anything. That's the thing. I think I've seen it, the last couple days, just sitting there. I thought it would move, but it didn't." Her voice grew faint. "Celestia, I think… I think it starved itself."
Celestia noticed, with her finely attuned senses, something she dare not say out loud.
Magic.
– – – –
Some said Starlight Glimmer always had that glare. Some had been scared of her from the moment they met her. One butler quit a couple weeks after she came to the castle.
Celestia wouldn't have any of it. She wanted to give her a chance. She hardly even had a home when Celestia found her.
She was alone. Celestia was never entirely sure what happened to her, since she didn't want to open old wounds, but she was alone.
Celestia had to help her.
– – – –
"Animal experiments?" the head mage said. "What are you implying, Celestia?"
"Can you think of anyone that would do," Celestia gestured to the squirrel corpse, splayed open for analysis, "this?"
"No, of course not," the head mage said. "We don't do animal experiments anymore—it's not the dark ages."
"Well, not officially, yes, but perhaps one of your students—"
"I keep perfectly good watch over my students," the head mage said. "Unlike you."
Celestia recoiled. "Excuse me?"
"If you're so confident in your Starlight Glimmer," the head mage said, "ask her. Ask her if she did this."
– – – –
That day, Celestia had been touring the slums of Canterlot. She had always disliked slums. One of these days, she would think of a way to get rid of them—or more accurately, prevent them from existing in the first place. They always felt like a blemish on her kingdom, their size directly proportional to her incompetence.
That day, she had seen something she wasn't expecting to. A burst of colors, meaningless but beautiful. It was magic the likes of which did not come around very often, and particularly not here.
She had ran towards the source.
– – – –
Celestia knocked on Starlight Glimmer's door, distraught but collected.
– – – –
Now that she thought about it, it was a bit disconcerting that Starlight Glimmer seemed to know she would come.
When Celestia came near her, she had immediately looked up with a small smile and said, "Welcome, dear Celestia."
– – – –
Starlight Glimmer opened the door. Celestia expected her to be shocked—she hardly ever came to her room. But instead, she had the same look she always did.
Not the glare.
Maybe.
"Yes, dear Celestia?" she said, smiling contently.
She caught Celestia off guard. "I… I have a question for you."
Starlight Glimmer stood out of the way, and motioned for Celestia to enter. "Come in. By all means."
If she had done it, would she really be this calm? Would she really be letting Celestia into her room, which would undoubtedly contain incriminating evidence? Logically, Celestia said no. But if she had done it, then she was further gone then Celestia thought, because it meant it was all premeditated, and she did not feel a shred of remorse.
"What is it, dear Celestia?"
That name was always a bit unsettling as well. Celestia was never able to quite figure out why.
She looked around the room, searching for something to talk about. She was nervous. Unusually nervous. She had faced off against many worse foes, but somehow, this was worse. The idea of someone doing that to an animal and feeling nothing… and on top of it all, not even being sure… "Has that painting always been there?"
"What painting?"
Celestia pointed. "That one."
Above Starlight Glimmer's desk was a framed painting of a symbol, unusual in its stark simplicity. Just two, thick parallel lines.
If Celestia didn't know better, she would say it was a painting of an equal sign.
"Oh," Starlight Glimmer said, looking up at it. "That is…" She paused. "…harmony."
She reveled in that word. Just the way she said it… it was something to her that it wasn't to other ponies. It was something to her that nothing was to other ponies. That one word was a religion, a dogma, a sibling, a parent, a lover, a way of life for her. Hearing the unnatural way she dwelled on it made Celestia resolve her mind, and she asked. "Listen… Starlight… have you been doing any… experiments lately?"
Starlight Glimmer did not flinch an inch, but that was only because she stood completely still, with that same smile. "Like…?"
Celestia swallowed. "Like… like animal experiments."
The two did not move.
"Why would you think that?"
"We found a… a squirrel. It seemed to have starved itself to death and… there was magic on it."
"And you come to me?"
"…yes."
Starlight Glimmer turned, and began pacing. "Who is this 'we'?"
"Starlight… does it matter?"
"Who said I did that?"
"No one! No one did!"
"Then why are you here?"
"Because I want to know! Did you?"
Starlight Glimmer was silent. "It seems you don't trust me, Celestia."
"Starlight…"
"Why would you just assume it was me?"
"Starlight, I…"
"I don't want to hear it. I've known from the beginning that no one here's liked me…"
Celestia grabbed Starlight Glimmer by the shoulders. "Starlight! Tell me you didn't do it! Just tell me! I'll believe you! That's what I want to hear!"
Starlight Glimmer turned away, and did not say anything for the longest time.
Celestia's eyes widened. Her mouth hung open. "My… my word… you really…"
"I didn't mean to kill it. I thought you'd understand."
"How could I—!?" Celestia took a breath. "No, I… please, I'm sorry, I… explain it to me. Explain why you did… this."
"I can't. You wouldn't understand."
"I'll try, Starlight."
"Then let go."
Celestia let go, and Starlight Glimmer let herself fall to the ground. She slowly got up.
"Celestia," she said, "Princess Celestia… I'll stop what I'm doing and obey your every command if you can answer one question."
"And that is?"
Starlight Glimmer looked straight at her with that glare, that soul rending, confident glare that could make even Celestia briefly forget she was the ruler of the most powerful country in the world.
"What is harmony but the suppression of free will?"
Celestia opened and closed her mouth. She tried to think of an answer, tried quickly, but nothing came to mind.
"Thought so," Starlight Glimmer said, and teleported away.
Celestia froze.
If only she had been able to come up with the right answer.
If only she had restrained Starlight Glimmer's magic.
If only she had seen the signs sooner.
If only she had been able to help sooner.
She had failed, again.
Could she follow? What good would it do? Could she reason with her? Or would she have to kill her?
The thought paralyzed her, until finally, the threshold passed, and she could not follow Starlet Glimmer even if she wanted to.
She was free, and her madness would never go away.
She had failed.
Again.
A tear escaped her eye.