The Alicorns are the most bizarre and unique of all ponies in Equestria. We have wings like the Pegasi to allow incredible speed and manoeuvrability in the air. We have a horn like the Unicorns allowing us to summon and control the flow of magic around us. We also posses the phenomenal strength and a toughened resolve from the Earth ponies.
Yet, even among all this, we have one ability which is as mysterious as the Alicorns themselves. When an Alicorn comes of age, the secret of life is revealed. It isn’t as glorious as it sounds, but its simplicity is terrifying. We are capable of seeing when mortals will perish. Blunt, isn’t it?
The curse of immortality once again rears its ugly head and forces away any shadow of uncertainty in our world. Is nothing sacred in my eyes? That, I can never tell.
In my youth I thought death to be a power beyond our reckoning, beyond our control; it would be forever shrouded in a fog which was only lifted when it finally caught up to us. Even death held no bounds for me; I could see it around me but never feel its icy fingers touch me in an everlasting embrace.
I may seem ungrateful, or maybe even angry at the position I’m in. To a certain extent, this is the truth. I've lived for longer than some of the oldest cities in Equestria. I’ve watched boundaries of nations pushed and stretched, and yet I can’t help but feel as if I shouldn’t watch it at all.
This is getting heavy.
I’m probably just writing in anger through my depression. Or maybe I’m just getting tired. After all these years, maybe things will catch up to me.
This is a tale of how I learned of my place in this world. Of how I never stood near the top, and even when I got close, immortality would cut off another pool of happiness for me.
It’s happening again: it’s getting heavy.
To anypony reading this, I have written this as a personal memoir: a lesson. This shall be stored in the Canterlot library as a fable, a parable if you will. I shall make my lesson known to those who want to learn, so that never again will I feel in control and so that this message is passed down.
My name is Princess Celestia, and this is story of how I became mortal.
Today’s the day. The day which I have been looking forward to all week. Today is the first day of my non-working week: no more politics, no more grand introductions, just plain, simple times ahead.
My week had dragged on. But, at the end, I know that I’ve got nothing on my plate. Today and tomorrow are all for myself; I can do whatever I like and not be told otherwise.
I’m rather excited.
I tried to contain a grin as I walked, but it was difficult. I wasn’t normally this happy for a work-free weekend, as I am free for most weekends for that matter. However, this one was special, and one certain pony made it special. Today was Twilight’s day.
I could feel a small, giddy rush of excitement quicken my pace as I thought of the fun we would have. In the east-wing of my library, the librarian had encountered a previously unopened chest filled with old, unsorted, unread books.
I was looking forward to the task of reading and sorting through their dusty pages, but there was one pony who, I knew, would enjoy it perhaps even more than me. Yesterday, I sent the invitation for spending the weekend with me, and the positive reply came back swiftly.
She was due to arrive in one hour by train from Ponyville. Although I had no exact plans of what we were to do besides reading and sorting, but I knew she would have some idea of where she would like to spend some time.
I skipped a step and turned into a longer corridor of my palace. I descended a short stack of stairs and continued down the corridor.
She would leave tomorrow, just after midday; I hoped she would have enough time to have breakfast with me before she departed. .
The librarian appeared at the end of the corridor. He towed a small cart behind him which was piled high with the ancient books for our evening. I smiled to him as I passed.
“Good morn, Princess,” he said with much effort. His face was strained through the workload and his brow sprinkled with diamonds of perspiration. He seemed frail and older than I I’d ever seen him.
I quickly assessed his age: thirty five years left, enough for twenty of useful service. I smiled. “Good morning, Bluepage,” I said in a tone more excited than welcoming.
He quickly grinned back and gave a quick bow of his head before trundling off again down the corridor. His corded pen clinked against the back of his leg as he walked.
I turned in the corridor into the flight of stairs leading to the palace doors of the west-wing. As I reached the bottom, a shout came down the stairs from above.
“Celestia,” called a familiar voice. I spun to face my sister. She leaned casually over the banister with a steaming mug levitating beside her.
“Good morning, Luna,” I called up to her.
“Good morn to you too. You raised the sun earlier than usual, sister,” she said, taking a sip from her mug.
“I had no idea. I was up rather early admittedly,” I said.
She smiled. She must have known why.
“Go greet her then,” she said. She took another sip of her drink. “Her train will arrive late.”
I didn’t question how she knew this, but I could give credence to it. I turned and made my way out the door.
* * *
I could feel myself swaying gently. If my excitement wasn’t already apparent to the other ponies around me, I may have been rather concerned about the number of questioning glances sent my way. I caught a few stares and stray looks. It becomes easy to forget that I’m a public figure.
I glanced up at the clock and to the horizon.Twilight's train was due four minutes ago. I had already organised the day in a neat schedule, and this delay would account for a few changes, namely pushing all events back by maybe up to ten minutes.
I didn’t let it get to me. Today was Twilight’s day. We could do whatever she wanted regardless of my list.
Silver-crested clouds rose from over the top of the mountain. I smiled. Shortly after, the train rumbled around the corner and the silver trail of smoke left streaks climbing into the sky.
“It’s about time!” called a stallion’s voice from the crowd of passengers.
I made my way to the back of the platform to allow room for the passengers to step off. The train trundled in moments later and many grumpy-morning passengers climbed off.
From among the sleepy yawns and slow-moving crowds, a familiar violet face caught my eye. Her wide smile stood out vibrantly in the dull crowd. She made her way through the crowd toward me.
* * *
“So, what do you want to do before we hit the books?” I asked. The carriage hit a bump in the road as I finished.
She turned from her window to face me.“I’m not sure,” she said. Her eyes hovered on me for a moment as she thought. “We could go to Joe’s. I haven’t been there in months. If that’s alright, Princess.”
“We may do whatever you wish, this is your day Twilight. Call me Celestia when we’re alone,” I said. “I couldn’t have a friend addressing me fully in our studying together.”
She nodded and then smiled for a moment. “Of course…Celestia,” she said, although it seemed more forced than I’d have liked.
“I’m sorry for my lateness,” she said blushing. I knew how much she liked being on time with all things. “The train had a mechanical malfunction; we could have nearly crashed at one point after the engineer couldn’t slow it down.”
“Oh, I’ll request it to be fixed before your departure tomorrow, although you are welcome to stay longer, if you’d like?” I said, fishing for a response.
She shook her head. “Applejack has requested my assistance on the farm, and I have already obliged to spend time with her,” she said.
“Very well.”
The carriage trundled onward around another two blocks before I spoke up again. I was expecting her to make some conversation.
“Is there anything you’d like to do after we visit Joe’s?” I asked without looking at her.
“I’m not sure,” she said yawning. “We could just start work after then.”
A gave her a questioning glance. “Why do want to retire so early? Today is your day Twilight.”
She yawned again. “I’ve just been feeling rather tired lately.”
* * *
I’m not even sure why I checked.
It was a horrible thought to even consider, but out of habit I checked. I always check when somepony says something like that.
26 hours.
I thought I’d misread.
I took a second and third glance at it.
26 hours.
I frowned and looked for an error.
26 hours.
She continued to stare at me. Oblivious to my terror building inside.
26 hours.
She was talking, but I couldn’t hear her. I could only feel the gentle bump of the carriage, and I could only see the faded grey digits hovering like ghosts above her head.
26 hours.
My student, my friend, Twilight Sparkle, was destined to die soon.
My friend is sitting a metre or two away, sleeping away her final hours, and there is nothing I can do about it. Nothing.
What use is this gift of immortality if I can only be a statue to those around me? I can speak to them, I can feel them, but I’m an alien among them. I see the world through my own window.
Through my window, the world is old, changing and so full of death. Those who I used to confide in have long since passed, and their names and titles would fall on the ears of youth without recognition. I’ve talked to the dead of this age, and it seems like their memories are still so fresh on my mind.
I let out a sigh which I hoped she wouldn’t hear. I leant over toward her on the edge of my chair. I peered over the top of the pile of books. She was asleep. The quilt cover was over her shoulder and her head lay deep into a dusty-paged book. Her gentle breathing sounded so nice, I thought.
I sat back into my chair and pressed my hooves on either side of my head.
I can’t even tell her. She will never know. I know she will die, and I’m still powerless to stop it. My thoughts are circling, I need options. Could I stop her death? Could I keep her in my palace, refuse her requests to leave my safeguarding in these secure stone walls?
Could I be forgiven if I changed the course of a life? I don’t know. We were told to never touch what we couldn’t control, never to stare when we couldn’t see, and never to rewrite what is already written. Is her death written, or am I the writer? Surely I can control some aspects. What use is a power of seeing life if I am to not preserve it?
A knock at the door drew my thoughts blank. I raised my head to check that Twilight hadn’t woken, and then back to the door. My sister leaned upon the door frame. A look of concern was badly contained in her face. She had the same signs when she was young, and she could never change her propensity. Emotion was a part of us which she held more strongly than me.
She gave a quick flick of her head outside. I knew what she wanted to talk about. I rose from my wooden stool and went outside. Before leaving, I glanced back toward Twilight, just to make sure she hadn’t stirred, and then I left the room.
I glanced down the short corridor of my tower. A dim, orange glow seeped out from the room beside mine. A shadow moved across the light.
I walked toward it and glanced in. The strong, sweet aroma of cocoa caught my attention first. Two cups were stationed upon a glass-topped table in the centre beside two embroidered chairs. I looked up to the first chair where Luna sat with her eyes averted, as she glanced around the book pile beside her.
She looked back to me and smiled. “Sit,” she said quietly. She gave a gesture to the second embroidered chair. I smiled back faintly and went toward the chair, picking up the cocoa as I went.
As I sat, Luna also picked up her mug. She took a small sip and placed it back to the table. I counted the marshmallows in the top, and then took a drink also. Three marshmallows, one more than my usual amount.
“I figured you could use with one more,” she said after I placed down my drink. I smiled.
“You know what I want to talk about.”
I sat back into my chair. “I would love to believe there was an easy solution,” I said. I retraced my thoughts from earlier. “Could I prevent her from leaving tomorrow?” I asked. I looked up to Luna’s face, and it wasn’t forgiving.
“No,” she said. She crossed her hooves. “You surely remember what we were told? Never rewrite what is written.”
I ground my teeth. “You surely don’t believe the words of an ancient time are enough to stop me saving my friend.”
“It’s not your life to save.”
“So what, let her die?” I said absent of tone.
Luna didn’t answer, she just stared at me. I knew what I had to do and she knew I would do what was right. I sighed and gripped the edges of the chair. “I shouldn’t change what is meant to be, but why does it have to be?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why does another friend of mine have to perish? Why am I always so very powerless…so weak?” I dropped my head into my hooves and rubbed my temples. I could feel a headache brewing.
“You’re not weak, Celestia,” said Luna at last. Her voice was worried, yet respectful. I admired her for it. She was as grateful to Twilight for freeing her from Nightmare Moon, although this decision seemed easier for her to make than myself.
“Then how can I never do what is right, what is needed of me?” I asked, still with my eyes closed.
“Because you care. Be grateful for that, it is something of you I admire.” I raised my head and stared at her.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
She leaned forward. “You always seek others Celestia,” she said carefully picking her words. “After one thousand years, you always go forward to make a friend of a student and of those around you. In the end, their deaths crush you, and you repeat the process. I would have given up long before you.”
“So you’re saying I shouldn’t make friends?” I asked, insulted.
“No, no, that’s not what I’m saying.” She took a breath to collect her thoughts. “After one thousand years, even though you know the risk when you invest your friendship in them, you do it anyway. And when they end up standing on Death’s door, you still feel it as strongly as this. I admire you for that. You never gave up.”
I sat back in my chair. Her words floated and wandered in my mind.
“I would aspire to be like you. Even after that long, you still take it so hard; you care more than any other pony we will ever meet.”
I looked back up to her and smile. “Thank you,” I said, “I needed that.” As much as it did make me feel better, it gave me more to think about.
She nodded graciously and picked up her cocoa.
I stood and left quickly. I needed to be alone with my own thoughts. In my own reveries where my world was that little bit easier, that little bit less corrupt. I went back into my room and lay down on my bed.
I routinely removed my crown and switched off the bedside light. I let myself relax for the first time since finding out about the fate which was yet to come.
I raised the sun much to my disdain. My raising of the sun marked the day she would die. It felt as if I was making her die in some ways. I would raise the sun and she would die in two hours. I just wish I’d kept my ignorance.
I swung my legs over the side of the bed and levitated my crown to rest on my head. I looked over toward Twilight. From amongst the books her unmade bed still assumed a dip from where she had slept, but she was not in it.
I hadn’t been woken by her stirring, which was usual, I found. Maybe she left early. If she had, then I would miss the painful goodbye. Although it would be easier to miss it, I would far prefer it as a final farewell than a departure without an acknowledged receipt.
She wouldn’t have left, however. My student is kind, grateful, and many other things, but not disrespectful. It would go against her every propensity to leave without a goodbye.
I opened the other shutters of my chamber. My orange light poured in and filled me with warmth.
My sun rose over the roofs of the distant buildings. Those of grandeur seemed forced, too showy for my liking. Had I been given an opinion, then they would be made to suit the theme of old Canterlot.
I’m little more than a figure to this city, however. I’m a symbol of older days. I’m fountain of knowledge to some, but knowledge simply without purpose.
My thoughts dropped when a voice rang through the halls. “Princ—Celestia?” said Twilight from behind me.
I swallow my hollow worry with a bitter aftertaste. I turned to face her and I tried to force a smile. “Good morning, Twilight,” I said without any satisfaction.
She smiled back. “Morning, Celestia. I was wondering if we could have breakfast together, at the café down the road,” she said.
“I’d like that,” I said. I followed her downstairs.
We entered a waiting cart and drove the short distance down the road.Through the window, I could see that the café was deserted. A cross-eyed owner with a sea-blue mane leaned upon the counter. He wiped the counter top with a stained, damp cloth. One eye rested on the doorway, the other down to the counter.
Twilight pushed the door open. A small bell jingled atop the door causing the owner to raise his head.
“Good heavens, Princess,” he said abruptly. He dropped the cloth and made his way round the counter. “And company? Please, please, sit, sit.” He pulled out two chairs beside the window.
“One tea, please and a…”
“Tea, also,” said Twilight.
He nodded and turned. “Two teas, at the double, y-your highness,” he announced to the empty café.
Twilight stifled a laugh, and I joined her with a wry smile. We sat silently for a moment. “Why did you choose to come here?” I asked.
She shrugged. “I came here often as a filly,” she said slowly. Her eyes settled out of the window. “My father took me here, every so often.”
I nodded. “I see.” I followed her gaze to the storm clouds gathering on the crest of the furthest houses. “Bad weather is looming.” She looked toward me, puzzled.
“I’m sure the Pegasi are making it rain for good reasons,” she said.
I nodded. “Yes, I suppose you’re right.”
I jumped slightly as a tray landed with a clatter on the floor beside us. The teapot cracked and spilled its contents out upon the floor.
“Oh dear, oh dear,” said the stallion flustered. “I’m sorry, your highness, quite very sorry.” He bent down to pick up the pieces.
“Allow me,” I said smiling. I surrounded the teapot in magic and fused the cracked porcelain together.
The stallion stood shaking. “You’ve saved me a teapot,” he said.He returned a moment later with a new brew in his grasp. “It’s on the house, your highness.” He said with one eye on me, smiling. I smiled back awkwardly.
He brought across two cups and an assortment of sugars, sweeteners and small tubs of milk. Twilight smiled as he turned back to the counter.
“Princess?” said Twilight, leaning upon the table. I raised my head. “Is there something wrong?” she asked.
I stared blankly at her for a moment. There was so much wrong. So many blind evils which could never see their destructive tendency and Twilight was sitting right in the middle of them.
“Why do you ask?” I replied without looking at her.
She hesitated for a moment. “I’m not sure.” She leaned back in her chair with her cup in her hoof. “It might just be me.”
I took a sip of my tea. “Well I’m fine, trust me.”
She nodded but didn’t seem convinced. I took another sip of my tea.
* * *
The driver put her saddle bag in the compartment behind the chariot. He opened the door to allow myself and Twilight to step in.
We spoke little on the ride to the station. We made promises to meet again next month, and despite what I knew, I made the promise regardless. She tried once again to pry my discomfort from me, but I shrugged off her concern.
We got out from the carriage. Twilight slung her saddle across herself and tightened it.
“Would you like me to wait, your highness?” the driver asked politely.
“I would like that.”
I turned to follow Twilight into the station.
It was more crowded than last time. A line selling tickets queued against the back wall. Twilight’s train was already here. She approached it and stood halfway on. She turned back to me. Her smile was so beautiful.
“Are you sure that there was nothing wrong?” she asked.
* * *
How much I wanted to tell her.
So many things were yet to be done.
She was yet to meet a stallion.
To marry here in Canterlot.
To bear her own children whom I would love as my own. But no. All of that would never be. It was written that she would die today.
But I couldn’t allow it. Let it be on my head that things have changed. On my head will this fall. I am the writer. This world is my quill. I will do what I can to make it better. I’m not just a figure, not just a statue. I am the immortal ruler of this world, and I will write my world anew.
* * *
“Last call for the Ponyville-bound train. Last call.”
“Celestia? Is anything wrong?”
I stood a step back and thought for a moment.
“Yes there is. Twilight, I need you to do something,” I said quickly.
She took a second before looking shocked. “Celestia the train leaves in-“
I took a breath. “Twilight, there is no time, ponies might die.” She looked puzzled but trusted in me. She nodded. “Go to the waiting chariot, tell him to take you straight back to the palace, no questions, get back quick as you can.”
She nodded again. “Yes…Celestia,” she said, a tone of fear was notable in her voice. She galloped off toward the chariot. The train pulled away just as she left. She was such a good student. Later, I would tell her all of it, of seeing deaths, of how close I came to letting her down. I’d tell her that I know of my place in this world. But for now lives may be at stake, and I have to protect my people whether they care for me or not.
I extended my wings and ran out onto the platform. It must have been a sight to see as I took off to reach the front of the train. I hadn’t flown in months and my wings felt stiff and groggy, but I still had enough power to reach the front before it got too far away.
The train was fast. I should know, I asked for them to be upgraded so they ran quicker, but I was faster. I’m an Alicorn, I have the speed of a Pegasus. I surged forward through the air with several powerful strokes of my wings. I reached the front of the train and landed with a great thump behind the cabin.
I opened the door and a surprised engineer sat with a shovel in one hoof.
“Stop the train,” I commanded. He nodded through a look of panic and quickly pulled the override level beside the engine. The breaks stuttered for a moment and seemed to have no effect for the first seconds. He pushed harder and the break hit the wheel making a terrible screeching as the train ground to a halt.
He sighed and wiped a hoof over his brow. “So,” he said with a heavy breath, “what’s the problem?”
I opened my mouth to speak, but no sound came. My mind froze as a foreign thought ran through me . The voice was familiar, but it was so immediate that I couldn’t help but be paralysed by it.
“Celestia!” shouted my sister. Her voice rang in my mind. “Come quick, sister!”
Her voice was afraid. I could feel her emotion implanted in me.
The engineer looked at me, confused. “Princess?”
I didn’t answer. I ran out the cabin and unfurled my wings as fast as possible.
* * *
I flew.
I don’t know how long I flew, or how far, or how fast.
It was all a blur.
My terror built up in me. Each gust of wind seemed to be pushing me back and I struggled to push through. I felt like I was battling the storm. The bad weather was punishing me for my actions.
I threw myself harder toward home. I pushed all my strength into getting there. Into reaching whatever terror I knew awaited me.
But, then again, I already knew what I was flying toward.
I flew above the main street where I spotted Luna. I descended and saw the chaos. I saw the upturned chariot. I saw a gathering crowd. I landed beside my sister. She was crying.
“Celestia, we couldn’t do anything,” she said through tears.
“No,” I said shaking my head.
“She was too hurt, we tried but-“
I ran past her. I didn’t need to hear it. I ran through the crowd and stopped dead. The driver was pressed against a wall. A stallion placed a mask over his face which fogged up quickly with his fast breath.
He never broke his stare toward me. One eye was swollen up and the other looked dead. I looked away to try and see my student, alive and well running from the crowd with only minor scratches and injuries.
I glanced back and forth until my eyes landed upon her. I ran quickly toward her. Two guards held me back.
“I’m sorry, Princess, nothing can be done,” one of them said. They both held me back.
“We can’t let you past,” said the other.
I frowned and teleported passed them. A mare in white stood near my student. “I’m sorry, Princess.”
I knelt down beside her. A long cut ran across her eye down to her jaw, droplets of ichor seeped from the deep wound spoiling her perfect, beautiful face.
Her forehoof was crumpled at an impossible angle. I tried to highlight her time left, but nothing showed. The timer was blank. The ghostly letters ticking away her last seconds didn’t show. She was gone.
“No.”
“I’m sorry, Celestia,” Luna said. She placed a hoof around me. I stared blankly down to the earth, shaking. Rain began to fall into the dust, making dark crescents. Tears mixed with the rain and ran down my cheeks. My breaths quivered.
The procession was small. Only friends and family were attending. Luna and I gave a few words, but we weren’t to stand out above the rest. This was Twilight’s day.
It was a day that I had wrote, and despite what Luna has said to console me, I knew that it was I that put my friend into that box. They don’t know it was me, they don’t know what we can see, but they may as well know.
I might actually prefer it that way. Then they would have something to blame, so that this tragic ‘accident’ was real to them; so that they didn’t feel as helpless. A face to a murder is kindness. A death by accident is tragic.
Instead, I shall live with my burden. I’ll let it eat away at me. I’ll let my psyche slowly crack and collapse. It should have been me in that box.
I can’t do anything. I’m powerless. Helpless. Weak.
The service finished, and they left. I nodded solemnly to each as they passed. They wore expressions of sadness as expected. Some of them even seemed angry, although they will never know what at.
Her mother and father were the last to leave. They still stood over the grave. The fresh loamy soil was still upturned. I stood beside them. Her mother was crying.
She looked to me through cloudy eyes.
“Is there anything anypony could have done to stop this?” she asked, though tears.
I just stared. Nothing I could say could put this right.
“No,” I said gravely.
She nodded. “Thank you, Princess. You meant so much to our Twilight.”
Her husband placed a hoof over her shoulder and they walked out.
I approached the premature grave which I put had put her in.
I wrote this world into existence; I am the writer of her death. My interference killed her.
Let no others fall at my selfishness. I am only a statue. Only a figure. I am not immortal; I am a writer, and this forsaken world is my bloodied quill.
