Faith.
For the first time in a while, it's a nice day. A light breeze carries particles of sand through the air, the sun shining down and reflecting through them, creating a dance as old as time. A sparse population of palm trees sway slightly, their rustling mimicking the soft splashing of the waves. A lone figure strides up a beach, a bag at his hip, filled with what little he calls his own. This beach is rather unremarkable, all things considered. There are many like it, soft golden sands, water green with the spawn of summer algae. There’s a reason they call it the Emerald Coast.
The figure pulls a battered device from his pocket, a cracked purple crystal glowing faintly within it. He holds it softly, as one might hold a fragile pet. It won’t last much longer, and magic is so hard to find these days. The device blinks unhealthily for a few more moments, before sputtering out. The man draws a sudden breath, his hand tightening slightly around it. It can’t give up now, not when he’s so close. He leans in, studying the compass-like contraption with a pleading gaze. It flickers, before displaying the tiniest of green symbols. He exhales, passing a dune to reveal what can only be the object of his quest.
“I-” He chokes on his words, despite there being nobody around to hear him speak. “I found it…”
Anonymous has braved the world looking for this. He’s climbed the tallest mountains, crossed the deepest seas. Every mile, every painful day and night, it’s all been in search of what now lies before him.
To the untrained eye, it’s nothing. A small beachside chalet, under the shade of an Equestrian palm. The outside is painted a faded shade of blue, the window frames a white of similar stain. The porch has partially collapsed at some point, propped up only by a few spare rocks. It looks abandoned, and were it not for the slow rising of smoke from it’s crooked chimney, he would be inclined to agree.
Anon stumbles forward, his excitement overtaking the fatigue that besets his entire body. He has no idea what to expect, all he knows is that his journey is coming to an end. He approaches the porch, his old walking boots taking the final few shaking steps across the decking towards the door. He raises a fist to knock and then… Stops.
The weight of the past few years catches up to him as he freezes on the doorstep of his destiny. What if this doesn’t work? The question had always floated in the back of his mind, but he had the journey ahead to offset it. Now, not so much. Anonymous is so lost in contemplative thought that he doesn’t even hear the door unlocking in front of him. Only when it swings open does he realise something’s changed.
“Hello there…”
That voice, he recognises it. Not just from the months of research he put into finding this place, but from somewhere deeper than that. Before him stands the pony, no, person he’d come all this way to see. The former matriarch of the sun, the solar diarch, the retired ruler of Equestria. Princess Celestia, and she didn’t look good.
If he could describe her in one word, exhausted. Her faded white coat, flat pink mane. Were it not for the mark on her flank and the device that led him here, he’d have assumed she wasn’t the princess at all. He’s been standing staring at her for about twenty seconds now, time to say something, before things get any more awkward.
“Princess… Celestia?” Anon squints at her, as if there’s still a chance he’s wrong.
The mare recoils, but only slightly, controlling herself with practiced grace. She lets out a quiet chuckle. “Princess Celestia... Sorry- I just haven’t gone by that in a very long time.” A stronger gust of wind whips past as the two of them stand in the doorway, watching eachother with fascination. She chooses to break the ice.
“There’s a storm rolling in.” She seems to sniff the air, reaffirming something to herself. “Come inside dear, before you’re carried off.”
Celestia takes a step aside, beckoning the wayward human within. Anon, nervous but not deterred, obliges, entering the little shalley. It’s surprisingly spacious inside, with a high wooden ceiling housing a mezzanine and various hanging oil lamps, all illuminating a rough wooden living space below. Everything in here is old, patched together from presumably hundreds of years of use. She has a small library with a worn old armchair, a kitchen that’s clearly seen better days, and of all things, a gramophone with only a single record.
She trots past him and gestures to a nearby couch, which looks to be held together by sheer will alone. “Please, have a seat, can I interest you in some tea?” Without letting him answer, she turns on a stove and places a kettle on it.
“I-” He halts what would have otherwise been a torrent of questions. “Sure, tea sounds nice.”
She nods, humming a little tune to herself as she crafts her brew, before leaving it on the stove and returning. She takes a seat in a wicker basket chair opposite him, laying down and tucking her tail around her body, conveniently masking her cutie mark.
“So… You know my name. Care to share your own?” Her head tilts a little, her pupils dilating.
“It’s Anonymous, but you can call me Anon.”
She nods calmly. “Very well, Anon.”
He admires her from across the coffee table. The stories spoke of a towering pony, with hooves of gold and a mane made of the purest sunlight. Wings that could break the clouds with a single beat, and a heart so large it had room for the whole kingdom. This Celestia is clearly… Not that. Her flesh remains young, but her deep magenta eyes have lived a hundred lifetimes. Despite this, she seems to be returning his curious gaze, looking the man over with distinct fascination, and most alarmingly, familiarity. Eventually, she speaks.
“You’re a human, aren’t you Anon?”
He stutters. “I- Yes! I am.”
This is a better sign than he could have even hoped for. The alicorns were supposed to see all, know all. If she knows of humanity, maybe she knows of Earth, and ideally how to get there. Celestia hums.
“I’d always wondered when I would cross paths with a human, it’s a shame it didn’t happen sooner, I’d have more to show you.” Her ears sag slightly, the universal sign for sadness among ponies.
“Well, I’m here now… I’ve come a very long way to meet you.” He offers her a soft smile. “You’re a very difficult mare to find.”
The princess lets out a soft laugh, one with a distinct hint of sadness.
“Well, the world marches on. I wasn’t trying to hide, I just…” She frowns a little. “Like many things I suppose I was left behind.”
“But you’re Princess Celestia?” Anon sits up slightly. “The Princess Celestia, weren’t you super top pony for like, a thousand years?”
She smiles, the expression of a mother about to let down a hopeful child.
“I was, now I’m just Celestia.” Her head shakes slowly, the long white horn that adorns her forehead reflecting a little grey light from the nearby window. “I left my protégé in charge, she was a fitting replacement, I couldn’t have done a better job.”
Anon has heard of this story, although nobody knows how it ended. The Guardians of Friendship, what a name to give yourselves, only to fail so obviously to guard friendship.
“But- If that's true, what happened to your kingdom?”
Celestia draws breath, but catches as the kettle begins to whistle, signifying a boil.
“Excuse me a moment Anon, the tea is ready.”
She rises from the chair a little faster than expected, clip clopping over to the stove to lower the heat. Anon watches her move, how she manipulates the teapot with nothing but her hooves and her wings, pouring the steamy brew into a pair of cups and placing a hoof stitched tea cozy over the pot. She returns slowly, carrying the tea tray on one leg and setting it down on the table.
“Here you are dear, drink up, you look freezing.”
The distant rumble of thunder distracts him for a moment, before he reaches out to take his cup.
“Thanks Pri- Celestia.”
She gives him a calm nod and retakes her seat, before he asks the obvious.
“So… Your magic?”
“Gone, just like everyone else.” She sighs. “Even I am not above the forces that govern this world. Magic chose to leave us, it wasn’t taken, it left.” She takes a sip of her tea. “That’s not something anyone can control.”
“Do you remember it? What happened?” He’s aware he’s getting off track here, but if he’s going home, he’d like to at least know why this place is such a mess.
She shakes her head solemnly. “I never found out. The tension was too great and I'd been gone for too long, I couldn't get involved. Staying far out of the way was the best course."
“Which is why I find it so amazing you managed to reach me Anonymous. How far must you have travelled, and for what?” Her expression dips into curiosity. “Were you looking for my magic? My power? Perhaps for use in some scheme?”
He can tell she’s teasing, but there’s traces of legitimate suspicion in there. He can’t say he blames her, to go to all this effort just to find her, among thousands of miles of unexplored land, it's clear he needs something.
“And a wayfinders compass?” She points to the battered magic device he still holds in his hand. "Those were hard to find even before the world lost its magic. You've clearly put some thought into whatever this-" Celestia gestures to the space between them. "-is."
This is it, make or break. Two years of planning, four of searching. Countless moves of life and death. Its all led up to this moment. The Alicorn can sense his anticipation.
"What is it that you came all this way to find out, my little human?"
Anon lets out a long breath, the teacup in his hand shaking a little. He speaks.
"Can you send me home. To Earth?"
The silence that follows is a crushing absolute. Celestia thinks deeply, he can almost feel it from across the table. The longer it goes on, the darker her expression becomes. The mans hope begins to slip. Eventually, after what feels like forever, she delivers her reply.
"No."
She doesn't mix words, she pulls no punches. Her answer is final. Anon feels the most fragile of rugs ripped from beneath him as he closes his eyes. His teacup falls, shattering on the floor. There should be anger, he grasps for it, for something other than the void he's currently experiencing, but finds nothing.
Something soft drapes around his shoulders. A wing, Celestia's wing. She whispers to him as gently and as sweetly as she can. "I'm sorry Anon, I'm so sorry."
So that's it. He's stuck here, forever. She continues.
"If I had the power to send you to Earth, I'd have the power to fix Equestria. Such a spell requires magic, I have no magic."
"But-"
His heart skips a beat as he looks up suddenly.
"I have faith."
Anon focuses on her, peering right into her infinitely deep eyes. He sees her, into the fire that still burns within, and it calms him.
"My ponies, while they can be selfish; cruel; and ignorant: have never let me down. They've been divided before, many times, but all it takes is one to change that."
She places a hoof over his shivering hand.
"I was that somepony, and then Twilight took up my mantle…" She passes her gaze to the nearby window, the rain pelting off it. "One day, that torch will pass to someone new, and when it does, everything will change."
Anon sits up. He isn't quite sure what he's feeling. Perhaps inspired? He motions for her to continue.
"You and I cannot control when it happens, my time has long passed, and yours is tied to another world. All we can do, is have faith."
Slowly, the storm outside starts to clear, a few rays of sunshine beginning to peak through. As he listens to her speak, he comes to the sudden realisation that this is the first time he's ever been this close to a pony. She manages to draw a weak smile to his lips.
"Until that day, I would be honored to keep your company."
"You smell like strawberries."
She scoffs, letting out a chuckle.
"I'll take that as a yes."