I'm starting on another story. I plan to do it the same way I did Blueberry; keeping all the posts in this thread so they aren't spread out among my lexical tomfoolery thread. I will link it there, though.

Anyway, here's the blurb:

Celestia, the most noble of entities. Filled with love and compassion. Powerful, wise, immortal.

Lonely, sad, and wracked with guilt at her failures.

Come, reader, and learn the story of the magnificent Princess of the Day. Part of it, at least, for the story of an immortal must be without end. Only part of it, but enough to see who she is, and what she longs for.





To any who choose to read it, thank you! I hope it'll be worth your time.

____________________________________________


Students of Heaven



1 - Genesis

Dear Princess Celestia,

I wanted to let you know things are well here: the sun shines, birds sing in the trees, and I've come to see you were right yet again; life is so much better with friends. Snips and Snails have taken quite a liking to me. They sulk around, destroy things, and intimidate the students - all on my behalf. Most importantly, though, they recognize my greatness. In fact, they do so much for me, I can just sit back and bask in the misery.

You see? I'm making progress!

You may have refused to make me an Alicorn, but it doesn't matter. There's no magic here, anyway, and even without it, I already rule. This whole area is “under my thumb.” Don't they have the cutest expressions? But it's true: I rule. I rule a school, yes, but the wails of a child are no less real. Their anguish is felt as keenly, and their tears are just as sweet

I rule a school, yes, but it's a school of flypaper, and they are the flies. Did you know that their lives are ruined if they don't graduate? It's true! Unlike us, these things have no harmony, so their society, and even their own families will turn on them if they don't; their whole futures are ruined! Not only that, but, in many cases their parents simply don't want to have them at home. Their own children! Can you imagine? Because of this, my little flies find no rest no matter where they try to flee, and it's also why I so relish playing at school-life; they're trapped with me, in a way adults never would be, and it's all thanks to you.

Every time someone goes hungry because I've taken their money; every time Snips, and Snails destroy a project for me, just so I can laugh as the child fails; every time someone is late because they're too afraid to pass me in the hall; every time I lie to Flash, and he lashes out at the others in my “defense;” every downcast eye, every fearful whimper, every tear-filled breakdown...they're all because of you.

I want you to remember that.

I may be on the other side of the mirror, but I am still me. Indomitable, unstoppable me, and everyone here is mine. Remember that, too; you're the kind of pony who would care. They aren't your ponies, they aren't even ponies at all, but you care.

Sleep well, Princess. See my face when you close your eyes. Dream about all that I've done here, and so, all that you have done through me. Dream, too, of all the suffering still to come. The sweet, sweet suffering. I wonder how much longer it will be before I rack up a suicide? Wish me luck!

Your faithful student,
~S


I have always hated cruelty. Almost every pony does, and before Sunset left me, she used to as well. Her pride, and ambition made it difficult for most to see, but she was always kind-hearted. To see her now, embracing sadism, honing it to a needle-point, and casting it straight at my heart, pains me more than a hoof across my face. And of course, that's why she still sends me these letters. She never answers mine, and doesn't want to; she merely means to hurt me, and I let her, reading every word of every letter, hoping each time the one penning itself across dimensions to the pages of my book will be the one which lets slip a change of heart. The smallest hint will do.

But this one is like all the others, steeped in rot and bitterness, so I don't deign to reread. Instead I let my eyes pass over it again, marveling at the graceful flower of Sunset's writing, still shining gold with the book's magic. It's beautiful. I need to see something to remind me of the pony she used to be, and that, at least, has not changed.

Sunset and I have always shared a love for chirography. As long as I've known her, she has taken pride in having won every calligraphy competition she'd entered, and the way she would beam whenever she'd had a new ribbon or trophy to show me had brought smiles to my lips, too. Not the smiles of diplomatic politeness expected of a Princess, but the radiant, prideful smile of the mother my poor, orphaned Sunset so needed me to be. Which I tried so hard to be.

While her first few letters from the other side had been in the finest High Classical Equestrian, she'd adopted an elegant Spencerian hand shortly after acquiring ones of her own. Perhaps, in eagerness to show me how she could not only survive, but thrive under any adversity?

In slow silence I rise, leaving the open tome on my desk, and walk to my balcony. The white walls of Canterlot glow a bright yellow-orange in my mid-afternoon sun. Pegai flit between my towers, and the faint sounds of hooves on stone echo among my walls and gardens. Ponyville and Cloudsdale dot my horizon. All of Equestria is spread out before me, but I don't see it. Instead, I see the past...


Nowhere
Aeons ago

I'm alone.

It feels as though I've always been alone. An infinity of cold, black silence stretches out around me in time and space. Both are featureless and void, and neither matters: I alone exist, and I am content.

Though there is no way to know how long I have been here, time does pass, and with it, a realization comes to me: for the first time, I am lonely, and not merely alone. I don't want to be alone anymore, so I summon a ghost of my power, and a star springs in to being. It's light and warmth bring me simple joy, and I see that it is good.

Some time after, I channel magic, again, and create a planet, beautiful and blue, and set it in motion. I watch as it circles my star, sunlight glinting off its water and high cloud tops. This waltz between my creations is also good, and it pleases me. Eventually, I descend, and call land from the abyss. Great mountains, and broad plateaus answer me, rising effortlessly from the waves. They, too make me happy, but I'm not yet satisfied; there is much more to do!

As a formless being, I take pieces of my world and shape them further, breathing life into some of my creations, and scattering them across it. For time out of mind, I wander among them, watching as they, animal, plant, star, and planet, grow and change together.

As time passes my work continues. Mountain ranges rise and fall, prairies turn to oceans and back again, continents break and rivers change course. Sometimes I do these things myself, but most of the time I watch, and let the natural processes I set in motion do the shaping for me. It takes a very long time, but what is time to me?

Eventually, I find a creature which I like above all others. With its 4 legs, hooves, a tail and mane, I find its form beautiful, so much so that I adopt it myself, twisting and molding my own shape to mimic it. Larger, of course to suit my majesty. I follow them for uncounted ages, testing them, and blessing them with the barest hints of magic, until one day, they are capable of answering my speech with theirs.

By this time, my magic and guidance have changed them: some of them have wings, some horns, while others lack any outward sign of the magic within; but they are all my children, and I love them. I teach them of fire, farming, architecture, and all the other sundry things they'll need to know to build my civilization, then I settle upon my throne. Now it's time to wait. Eventually, some will be born with potential beyond all others. I will find them, guide them, and when they are ready, I will help them through apotheosis. Then, at last, I won't be alone anymore.


Canterlot
Present Day

Sunset was right, of course: I hadn't made her an Alicorn. But neither had I made Twilight one, nor Luna, nor Cadance. I'd merely planted within them the seed of divinity, and tried to nurture them in a way that would make it sprout true. I had also done the same for her.

Then, as now, my dear Sunset had so much potential! She was incandescent! She shone with it, more brightly than her peers, brighter than her elders, brightly enough to catch my eye. So brightly I personally approved her admission to my school, and paid her tuition, as she had no family of her own. So much so that I took her under my wing, and made her not only my personal student, but treated her as my own daughter.

So much potential, but she has never had patience. She'd left before I could make her understand, but still carried the spark of my divinity which I'd placed within her.

The one saving grace was that she did not know I had given it to her. I had known she wanted it, known she was worthy of it, and oh, how I wished to see her face light up in surprise, when it finally burst forth! I had passed it to her in secret, and to my shame, it was only when she fled through the mirror that I realized how premature my blessing had been.

Yet even in her ignorance, its presence makes her dangerous. Very, very dangerous. If it grows while she still harbors so much darkness the results will be monstrous. Even in that banal world which she now inhabits, her powers would be immense, and made even more formidable be virtue of being the only magic there. The effect on the creatures of that world would be much the same as it would have been for my children if Nightmare had usurped my throne here, and Sunset is right; they are not ponies, but I care.

Something must be done about her, but what? She won't come back, and even if she does, she would still be the same corrupted unicorn. Merely stopping her is not good enough, or I could spirit her back to Equestria in an instant whether she liked it, or not. I must save her, but how?

I watch my ponies in the courtyards preparing for the upcoming Princess Summit. They'd soon be on their way to the Crystal Empire, and I'd follow at my leisure.

An idea forms.

Sunset doesn't know the origins of my “sister,” Luna, or how close Starswirl had come to ascension himself, but she does know about Cadance, and her birth as a pegasus. She doesn't know about Twilight, or that her crown is the renewed Element of Magic...but what if she did?

Swiftly, I return to the book and levitate my quill. Behind my closed eyes I summon all my knowledge of both ponies, composing the letter in my mind again and again; I'll only have one chance to get it right. Soon my eyes open, and I begin to write.

Never thought of Sunset as a, real villain or anything or, really dangerous or evil or anything. That ^ really, makes me realize

(03-25-2017, 09:46 AM)Gray Wrote: Never thought of Sunset as a, real villain or anything or, really dangerous or evil or anything. That ^ really, makes me realize

Thanks Gray, that's exactly what I was going for! Everyone likes to point and laugh at her taking over a school, instead of, say, the UN or something. Eventually she would have, I mean, but imho evil is in the intention, not the action; taking a homeless man's last penny just to watch him starve and cry is so much worse than stealing a million from a rich man who would hardly notice. I Tried to convey that idea here, it makes me happy you saw it.

Thanks for reading!

I'm glad to see this up, and I really can't wait to see the rest of it all done!

(03-25-2017, 05:02 PM)Rares Wrote: I'm glad to see this up, and I really can't wait to see the rest of it all done!

Thanks for saying so! It's always nice to hear one's work is appreciated.

2 - Alea Iacta Est

Canterlot
c1300 years ago

My earth ponies are generally a wary lot. My pegai can fly from almost any danger, and their weight-altering magics mean that even without wings, they would need fear no fall. Their magical resistance to temperatures, which keeps them comfortable flitting through the thin, icy air among the cloud tops, also means they could march through open flames, the coldest tundra, and even be struck by lightning, and remain completely unscathed.

My unicorns are arcane generalists, even the weakest of whom can hurl darts and missiles. Some can call illusions, to send most potential threats fleeing in fear, while the truly powerful can summon the very emotion of terror itself, hold an antagonist fast in a magical grip, or raise them high in their aura, before letting them plummet to the ground.

But my earth ponies can do none of these things. They can't take to the sky en masse and rain stones from on high. Neither can they focus an entire village's telekinesis on a monster and literally tear it limb from limb. What they can do, however, what they excel at, is making things grow. Almost nothing can penetrate the thick hedges, and sprawling thorny tangles they erect around places they wish to protect, but these things do not move with a pony, a do her little good if she is not surrounded by them.

Despite the thick skins, powerful muscles, and sturdy bones of their bodies, and the preternatural strength and toughness their magic gives them, as a rule, they avoid high places whenever possible. This includes flight, and Luna was no different. Even after she earned her horn and wings, adding the unicorn's and pegai's innate magics to her own, it took some time before she finally followed me aloft. It took longer still before she learned to prefer her wings to her hooves, but once she did, her enthusiasm overcame her fear, and she would dive, giggling from the precipices of the highest anvil-topped cumulonimbus she could find.

She said the freedom was what she loved. That after spending her entire life bound to the ground, the ability to soar over it was a thrill like no other. Sometimes, I still envy her that; I have never been unable to fly, or subject to any limitations of my power or freedom, and though I have always enjoyed flying, the incredible emotions I could see on her face when those restrictions were lifted from her, made me, unflatteringly, jealous. Even now, centuries after she first took wing, she always wears a radiant smile here, among my clouds.

It's a beautiful thing to see as I soar behind her, and while the gusting, high-altitude winds are ameliorated somewhat in her wake, they still buffet my wings pleasantly. Even now, in the heart of summer it's as cold as the depths of winter this far above my world, and I find it invigorating. Oh, how I love to fly!

Below us, I can see our destination: the lone peak of Canterlot Mountain; for centuries Luna's favorite place in all Equus. If she isn't at our castle in the Everfree, she can usually be found here, frolicking on the broad meadow growing on Canterlot Rock - the huge plate of gneiss which juts over the sheer drop to the land below - or wandering the honeycomb of jeweled caves and passages within the mountain itself.

There are many of those; Canterlot was a mine in her youth, filled with the gems carried up from the bowels of my planet in the currents of magma welling in the volcano I remember it being before my ponies were even ponies. It's slopes and surrounding forests grew as thick in the fertile volcanic soil then as they do now, and there had been plans for farmer's orchards to join the miner's tunnels. But I was afraid Luna would loose her special place forever, so I'd ordered the mine, and its nascent settlement abandoned.

After she joined me in royalty, she finally dared tell me she'd regretted my decision, but had trusted her Princess to do what was best. I'd considered reopening it, but by then, however it was long deserted, and now, all these years later, we're the only ones who remember.

The air grows warmer as we descend, circling around the snowy peak to set down in the meadow's long grass. A waterfall cascades down from the glaciers, part of it pausing on its journey to the river below long enough to change a depression in the stone to a pond, before plummeting off the edge. I close my eyes and hold the beautiful image in my mind, opening my other senses to the world around me. A gentle breeze blows, ruffling my mane. Insects buzz softly in the flowers. Luna drinks from the crystal waters.

Peace.

Together we pass the day in the best of ways: talking and playing, supping on the tender grass, and bathing in the frigid water. Most ponies would have found it intolerably cold, running as it does straight from the ice on the peak, but Alicorns carry all the ponies magics, including pegai's, and the chill was merely pleasant.

As the time for night draws close, we make our way to the tip of Canterlot Rock. I lay prone with a contented smile, my head held high as I look out on my kingdom and sigh. “Surely there is no pony so lovely, or so well beloved as I.”

Luna laughs a little bit. “What a thing to say, sister.”

“There is no harm in telling the truth, little sister.”

“We sayeth not that it harms, we merely observe that,” - she ponders a moment - “modesty hath never been among thy virtues.” I say nothing. She's right, of course, but why should I be modest? Everything that is, including my ponies, as much as I love them, exists to serve me; I made them so.

Well, no, not just to serve me, not anymore, I think with a smile. Us!

At long last, my dream is fulfilled! A little filly with a penchant for sleeping through the day caught my notice when a crescent moon appeared on her flank. It's true that celestial cutie marks aren't unheard of on earth ponies, linked as they are to seasons and planting cycles, but her habits of stargazing, mapping my constellations, and writing stories about them hinted there might be more meaning behind it than that.

I watched from afar as she grew, impressed by the great fecundity her magic contributed to her family's fields – she truly was a remarkable farmer, even for an earth pony, especially for a filly - and by the kindness she was always eager to share. One day, I decided to take her under my wing. I taught her, trained her, and in time, proving just as deserving as I'd hoped she'd be, offered her the spark of divinity; it wasn't long before she blew it to flames and became an Alicorn. My very first! Dear Princess Luna, my sister from that day forth.

But while the world has changed around her, and she thinks she has learned so very much, it has in fact changed very little, and been a mere blink of an eye, as I measure things, since she was born. How much can one really learn in a mere few centuries? She is an immortal, but she is a young immortal, still callow, and full of the idealism of youth. She still confuses love with leniency, and does not demand the proper obeisance from my children. She even takes a puerile joy in using the antiquated speech patterns of her fillyhood, knowing perfectly well they have long since fallen out of use. “For fun,” she says. No matter; her affectations are quaint, but harmless, and in time, with my guidance, she'll learn the proper place of all of my creations: cradled lovingly beneath us.

In time, but not today, and why think of that now? After centuries of tutelage, I have finally deemed her worthy of not merely a title: Princess Luna, but responsibility: Luna, Princess of the Night. This is a time for celebration!

“You are much too quiet, sister. We haven't offended thee, have we?”

Now it's my turn to laugh! “No, you have not.”

“Good. We would not be pleased to have soured the mood.” A gorgeous smile spreads across her face. “We hath prepared a spectacle of such majesty! Thou inquired why we asked for thine accompaniment to Canterlot this morning; this is why! Thou knoweth Mount Canterlot is our favorite place in all the land, and we wish thou to savor with us from here, this first special night of our duties.”

I smile and lower the sun. “Show us, little sister.”

She closes her eyes as a soft glow envelopes her horn, casting our shadows on the rock. The moon rises, and her eyes open as she lays down beside me, but her aura never fades. “Keep watching the sky!” she says through a look of intense concentration.

From the empty left horizon to the right, where the moon sits, stars pop in to being, flashing silver, blue, and red out of the velvety blackness, then fading to steady twinkles. They are the only stars out tonight: a line of tiny gems leading from one side of the sky to the next. I wonder what she has planned?

As if in answer to my unasked question, shooting stars fall like rain; brilliant streaks sheeting together from left to right, but burning out as they reach the row of new stars so none fall below it. The sheets of streaking light plunge and mix together, and the shapes of gryphons, dragons, minotaurs, and of course, ponies coalesce from the blending sparkles. As old ones burn out, new ones fall just slightly out of their place, making the characters seem to march atop the line.

She's made a road! A road of stars with creatures dancing along it, given shape and semblance of life by the meteor's evanescence! I watch their progress from one side of the sky to the other with a smile on my face, recognizing it as a scene from one of the tales she wrote about my constellations. My sister truly is magnificent!

In her tale, the creatures of Equus, saddened by the moon's loneliness, march up to keep her company. Touched with their concern, she rewards them by turning the willing into stars, and giving them homes in her sky.

Just so tonight: the meteor-creatures vanish as they reach the moon, only for the original constellations they represent to flare brilliantly back into their proper place against the blackness. Eventually, when the last one has gone, the star road winks out, spark by spark, until the moon remains, shining with her new friends.

I nuzzle her, and lean more heavily. “That was beautiful, sister.”

“We are glad thou appreciated it. We wanted thee to know thy decision to grant us demesne over the night was a proper one.”

I lay my head atop her withers. “I had no doubts before, sister, now I doubt I ever will.”

“Huzzah!” she cries, only slightly louder than normal, then turns her head, and smiles, looking at me askance. “Our nights each shall be a paean to thee, dear sister, but as their beauty becomes known, thou will remember not to become too jealous.” I summon a mildly biting look in response, and stare into her eyes.

“Sorry it has to be this way, Princess, but the day will always outshine the night,” I giggle, and raise my snout to the sky, letting my pink tresses fall between us. A moment passes. Then two. Have I hurt her? I only intended a gentle chastisement.

At last she laughs, putting my worry to rest. “Just as we hath said: modest as the sun itself!” She shifts slightly, allowing her full weight to press against me, and we pass her beautiful night together, under her stars.


The Crystal Empire
Present Day

The thing about Twilight is, she's not my apprentice, and she never has been. Yes, she has been my personal student, and still is despite earning her wings. She's also the most talented magic user I've ever encountered in my long life. I love her dearly, but she isn't like me; she's like my sister, Luna.

Sunset, though is me. Younger, more reckless, less magically potent, to be sure, but so much like me in other ways, it borders on the incredible. Her confidence, and power; her bearing and wit; I see so much of myself in her, which is probably why I did it: gave her the seed before she was ready. She needed guidance, and temperance, yes, but I could teach her those. Surely she could not fail? I could not fail. Not again.

But I did.

Fortunately, I learned from my failure with her what I did not from Luna's, and was able to turn Twilight to the right path in time, but I am the sun, and my sister the night. Sunset, too is the sun, and Twilight the night: there must be both.

So here I wait, in the corridors of the Crystal Castle, cloaked in my most potent obfuscating magic. Not even my dear sister would be able to detect me. I've ordered the mirror moved to a room closer to Princess Twilight's – one of the wunderkammer in their guest wing - and sent the majority of the guard to watch a perimeter I knew Sunset would not need to breach.

Late into the night, after the lamp-crystals have been dimmed, and the guards have grown bored of their rounds, a flash of light through the keyholes tells me she's arrived. I watch her stealthily creep through the door, and follow her down the corridors. How easy it would be to catch her now! But no, she must be saved, so for the sake of one tragically lost little unicorn, and the hope of what she might one day become, a bit of my subtle magic turns a guard's head here, and brings the spark of another's own headlamp back to him out of the darkness, there, distracting him long enough to let her sneak past.

At last we arrive at Twilight's room. It's a normal guest room, as she refused to accept a royal suite in order to be with her friends, so the lock on the door is no match for a unicorn of Sunset's skill. No matter, I would have opened the seals of the royal vaults themselves for her, if that is what were necessary.

Quietly she stalks across the floor, its translucent crystal tiles gleaming even in the wan light of the dimmed hall-lamps. There, on the nightstand she finds what she's looking for. The Element of Magic rises in the darkness. Her eyes glitter beneath the hood in the light of her aura, lending her a powerful minatory quality.

This seems an opportune moment, so I give the tiara a little push into the lamp. She's quick; her head jerks back in surprise, but even before it does, I can feel her aura pushing against my invisible touch. It's not enough, though, and with the clink of gold on crystal the lamp tumbles to the floor - and is caught at the last moment!

The look of confused anger on her face at the unexpected tug is replaced by breathless tension as Twilight shifts in her sleep. Then, it's my turn to be surprised, as another crown, floats from beneath her cloak. I'd told her what it looked like, to make it easier to find, but how could she have had another made on such short notice, or been able to match it so exactly?

As she turns to leave my mind is brought back to the task at hoof; it's now or never! Another spell shifts Spike in his sleep, tangling Sunset's legs in his tail. She trips, Twilight wakes, and with another invisible telekinetic touch, I push back her cloak enough to expose the crown in her saddlebags. “My crown! She's got my crown!” Twilight cries, and the chase is on!

Instantly, I reach through the walls and rouse the other ponies with a thought, while amplifying Twilight's shouts; now all the ponies are involved! I won't let them catch her – Rainbow Dash and Applejack in particular are likely to require my intervention - but I must ensure somepony sees her flee through the mirror, and I can not trust that any one pony will, not even Twilight.

Raised voices, heavy, rapid hoofsteps, and the myriad sounds of arcane energies thunder through the corridors as they gallop and teleport toward the mirror. Sunset is a fast runner, she always has been, and Twilight has never been athletic, but somehow, with a desperate lunge she manages to tackle the unicorn, and barrel her through the doors of the wunderkammer. I was paying too much attention to Rainbow and Applejack, and underestimated Twilight!

Oh, no, Twilight. No, I'm sorry, but I can't let it end like this. As they fall, I seize the crown from her saddlebag and bounce it from surface to surface. When I see every pony's eyes follow it, I send it with a last bounce, straight through the mirror. Sunset turns, victory scrawled across her perfect face.

“Sorry it had to be this way...” A soft bang as she teleports flawlessly from beneath Twilight's fore leg, to the mirror's threshold, and delivers a smirking salute. “...Princess.” My jaw drops as she passes through the mirror, and just like that, Sunset is gone, the Element of Magic with her.

I've often heard ponies invoke my name, but who does a goddess pray to? I can only hope I'm not making another terrible mistake.

Another really great chapter! I like seeing where this one is going, and I think you write Celestia's perspective well.

Dude I'm loving this so far. It's changing the way I think of Celestia (best princess). And I like it.

(04-10-2017, 11:37 AM)Rares Wrote: Another really great chapter! I like seeing where this one is going, and I think you write Celestia's perspective well.

Thank you, Rares. Let's hope it doesn't let you down! Cely's a hard character to write, but we'll keep on trying!

(04-10-2017, 10:19 PM)Fiction Wrote: Dude I'm loving this so far. It's changing the way I think of Celestia (best princess). And I like it.

Thank you, too, Fiction! Celestia is one of my favorites, that's probably obvious by this point, right? I hope you keep on enjoying it, and it gives you a new perspective on Cely.

3 - Volte-face

Castle of the Two Sisters
c1100 years ago

Sight, sound, smell, touch, taste, and resonance: the six senses my ponies know from the moment their lives begin. They see the clouds in my sky, and feel my sun on their backs. The smell of my bountiful harvests fills their nostrils, and the clear sweetness of my waters soothes their taste buds, as the touch of their lovers in the dark soothes their souls. Resonance, the sense of magic, sprinkles itself among the entrees of the other five as a spice, adding its own exotic flavors at unexpected moments.

My own senses are keener, and broader than those of anypony. My sight is sharper, and not limited to my eyes. The mere physical vibrations of a medium are not the only things I can hear. I smell time, taste color, and can expand and attune my senses in ways and directions for which my children have no concept, let alone words, yet I rarely do. How could my ponies relate to the sound of a rose's perfume? Or the simultaneously piercing and caressing haptόs which accompanies the sight-image of the song it sings in my winds?

No, for their sake, I reign in my perceptions, limiting them to the rough kinds and keenness with which they are familiar, but I do enjoy stretching out from time to time; Luna and I walk toward the throne room, and I do so now.

I can hear them first; the distant, distorted conversations, and echoes of hooves on my floors swells with, rather than drowning out the rhythm of our own hoofsteps. Beneath that, the rustle of expensive fabrics on fur, the swishing of drinks and tinkling of gems in my crystal goblets. Laughter, jokes, and stories resolve themselves in my ears. Business deals are being made, and horns are channeling magic. My tables are creaking, and my banners sway minutely from the walls in drafts so fine my keenest scouts would fail to notice were they standing right beside them. Insect's antenna flick behind my stonework, worms burrow in the soil of my castle's garden, and that is only the slightest portion of what greets me.

Next, smell; the nearby scents of stone and cedar are suddenly accompanied by the tantalizing melange of sundry foods, ponies, and the perfumes which they wear. Though they're in the throne room, while we are yet in the private suites behind the backs of our matched royal chairs, I can easily recognize many of the attendees, what they are eating, what they are wearing, and what they wore before dressing for the party. The bouquets clinging to their fur tell me when they bathed, where they live, what parts of the city they visited after leaving their homes, and what roads they took on their way to my castle. I know who is in heat, and who they laid with; I smell the emotions in their hearts and the thoughts in their minds, and still I open my other senses to whatever else may be learned.

As we walk, my mind speeds to drink it all in, and the world seems to slow around me. I allow nothing to escape, snatching each sensation and parsing it to its individual elements, then following them each to their sources, as a spider testing the threads in its web. Every experience, and every moment is a note in my world, harmonizing into a symphony no mortal pony, should they awaken to it, could appreciate, understand, or even survive with their mind intact, though I yet limit myself to those same 6 senses they've known all their lives.

As we approach the arch framing our thrones, our guards beat the stone with the butts of their halberds; an authoritative announcement that we have arrived, and the great hall falls silent. Luna and I split, she trotting to the right, toward her throne, while I go left, to mine. We emerge together from the shrouds of velvet curtains at the shoulder of our respective seats, and my ponies bow.

As one we step, our hooves sounding in time until we stand silhouetted against the backs of our thrones. We linger a moment, surveying our guests, who despite only moments before joyously mingling, and milling about, now stand in stock stillness, heads held respectfully low. Through the panes of the most expensive roof in Equestria – each one hoof-cut crystal, not merely glass – shines the light of sun and moon, together; sharing the sky in celebration! The former shines from far over my head, and the latter above my sister's; it was Luna's idea; an appropriate display for the one who saved Equestria!

With a gesture of my horn, sheathed in gold filigree, Luna's royal voice booms from one end of our throne room to the other. “Hear ye, hear ye! All who gather, stand, and bear witness!” Then, with a stamp of my gold-shod hoof, our guests rise, and move to either side of the rich, red carpet bisecting the hall, and all eyes fall to the Grand Door from which it runs.

At another stamp of my hoof, it opens with a fanfare of trumpets, blaring in triumph and honor. His triumph and honor: a lone unicorn stallion, gray of fur, white of beard, standing tall in starry robes, and a jangling, bell-laden hat. He proudly marches down the carpet toward us. All of my guest's faces turn to follow him, and though I search, I'm pleased to see not a trace of contempt or loathing on any of them; they know what he has done.

Stallions belong in the bedroom or fields.

That's the way it has been for as long as I can remember. It was never a rule of mine, but has been my children's own custom, for as long as I've known them. Even in the days I walked among them before they could think, or speak, I noticed their leaders were always the mares. The stallions then were larger and stronger, as they are now, but then, as now, there were so few. They didn't want to be the alphas, even among their fellow stallions; they yielded authority and status to the mares, and the mares in turn would protect, and take care of them. It was their way, and both sexes seemed mutually content with it.

Usually.

This stallion, was not one of those. He was satisfied to follow matriarchy, yes, but he also wanted to be a leader himself. His magic was potent, and his mind sharp; he wondered at the way of things, yearned for knowledge, and I gave it to him: the very first male student at my school for gifted ponies.

But traditionally, stallions did work in the bedroom, or in the fields, not in government or academia, and the mares were not shy about telling him so. They had said it to his face at first, when as a foal his magical talents began to outshine those of any filly his own age. Then quietly, behind his back when I decided to teach him. Now, they don't say it at all.

He stops before us, kneels. Awe fights with apprehension, itself waging war against joy for control over his face. At last a victor emerges, and he smiles as the music fades.

“Know ye,” Luna erupts at its last note, “that reposing special trust and confidence in the fidelity and abilities of Starswirl the Bearded, we appoint him a Hero of Equestria; to be known as such from this day forth, and we do strictly charge, and require all ponies of lesser station to render appropriate respect thereunto” - she pauses and surveys the room - “his gender not withstanding.” Her echoes die, and it is my turn to speak.

“Starswirl the Bearded, Hero of Equestria, for recognizing and defeating the Three Beasts of Song, receive this medal.” He rises to all fours, and I place around his neck an intricate cameo of our Royal Seal, made of precious stones, and metals, and borne on a fine chain of interlocking gold and silver links. “Stand and be recognized!”

He turns, and as one, they: lead mares with their prize herd members; scholars, soldiers, and mages; nobles and officials; they all bow to him, a first in Equestrian history. I let him savor his moment.

“Now, Hero of Equestria, speak. Name your reward, and if it is within my power, you shall have it.”

______________________________


Canterlot Meadow
That Night

Our queendom lays bathed in Moonlight, turned to silver glow and black shadow. Luna and I lie together in the grass, and she pouts.

“Why did thou do it, Celestia?”

“Sister, please...”

“Celestia. Thou art Celestia, and we are not really sisters. There are no ponies here to pretend for, so stop it, and answer us.” Her tone is harsh, her words, clipped, and I allow myself a small, exasperated sigh. I know she loves me, but her anger and embarrassment that the ponies continue to revere my days more than her nights, makes it so more often than not. My dear Luna, beloved sister, and still petulant and puerile, even after all these years.

But I will not rise to provocations. I will be an example to her, as I am to every pony. Eventually, she will realize how base her behavior is. When that happens, she will need a role model, and who better than I?

“It was what he asked for,” I say, sweet, and mellifluous, more like flowing honey than a pony's voice. Her eyes narrow in irritation.

“But another, like us?”

I hold in another sigh, and focus on my moonlit demesne. “He isn't an Alicorn yet, Sister. He has a long road left to travel before he joins us, if he ever does at all.”

A roll of her eyes. “We know that, Celestia, We worked long and hard before our own seed took root.” The grass rustles, and lays flat as she snorts. She pauses momentarily, scowling at the blades as they spring back up, then lets out an incredulous laugh. “But, Celestia, what will thou do if it comes to pass? Send him to rule one of our protectorates? The Crystal Empire, perhaps?”

I consider a moment. “He isn't a mare...”

“That's right, Celestia, he isn't a mare! They shan't accept him. They still do not believe the Beasts of Song were ever a threat to them. They say if he had not found them first, we would have defeated them - and we would have! They bear him no gratitude, and will chafe at being made to bow to a stallion.

“Even here...” she trails off. My dear Sister's words are sharp, and flung with annoyance. She's right, of course, but why does she have to behave so?

“...He isn't a mare,” I continued as though she had not just interrupted me. “But I believe the job would suit him.” Luna's brows knit and her ears lay back in an expression of open disbelief.

“They will mock him. And maybe us, too. It is no fault of his, or ours, but the tradition is older than even I know; mares are the leaders, and the protectors, and the scholars. Stallions make foals, and labor. It is The Way.

“He is no duffer, and deserves the honors he was given tonight, but if thou makest anypony, even him their...their prince,” - she scowled for a moment as the word passed her lips - “they'll play along to his face, and ours, but nowhere else. Such an appointment will undermine our legitimacy in their eyes.”

Her face darkens as she speaks, until at last her eyes seem to flash from the the nighttime abyss itself. “But thou knoweth this, dost thou not, Celestia?”

I raise my nose, and let my gaze ooze down upon her. “Meaning what, Sister?”

“Thou art not a fool, Celestia,” - a strange look flits across her face - “but neither are we!” Her voice cracks. “Thou thinketh we have failed! Thou think us delinquent in our duty of the night! Thou seeketh to replace us! To make him steward of moon and stars in our stead!”

That's it? That's why her bile rises so gracelessly at this fait accompli? Oh how she truly is my little Sister. I soften my gaze “Sister, I...”

“DO NOT DENY IT!” she shouts loudly enough for her echo to find us a moment later. For a shocked moment we lay in silence, before her voice quietly continues.

“How strange that thou wouldst choose a male...but his name is so convenient, isn't it?” With disbelief I watch her lips curl in a silent snarl of moon-shadows and dark fur. “Starswirl,” she spat it out like a rotten apple.

Her eyes narrow to gleaming slits, and in a voice so soft nopony could have heard, she whispers “It's to humiliate us, isn't it? That's why you chose a stallion. 'Fields, bedroom, and replacing Luna,' that's what they'll say.”

“Sister!” I interject with lowered head, and nuzzle at her chin. “I will never replace you!” She looks at me, tears welling in her gorgeous eyes. “Look,” I gesture with my snout. “The land, the sky, everything in between. Every rock, every plant, every creature, every pony. I created this world to find you.

“You are my sister. Immortal, powerful, and one day, when you have learned and grown enough, your divinity will be every bit as splendid as my own.” The mask of her fury melts at my words, revealing pitiful dolor beneath; the face of a pony who thinks she is unappreciated, and unimportant.

My poor little Sister, I know her worries are more than cavils; there would indeed be resistance to a stallion in government, but my power and longevity have given me what she still lacks: perspective. She must be shown that the reason I am not worried is not because I think her concerns foolish, but because I can see beyond them.

“Luna, dear Sister, you are right; if Starswirl ascends, he will not be accepted right away. But we are immortal, and he will be too; we can wait.” With a smile, I look into her eyes as we share breath. Inhale. Exhale. From within my body to hers, and vice versa. “You and I? We will hold Equestria together, hold the world itself together, as long as it takes to change, and change it will. The ponies will follow our example, and slow though it may be, if we accept him, so too will they. Experience tells me it will not be so long as you think.”

Inhale. Exhale. The brush of our muzzles. The scent of my Sister. The warmth of her body.

Inhale. Exhale. I can feel her calming, and lay my foreleg over hers.

“But, Sister. Luna. My dear, beloved sister, what will never change, is my love for you, or your place at my side. You are my sister, my family, forever and always, and I will love you, forever and always.”

Without a word she looks away, gazing blankly toward the horizon. I lay my head across her withers. “Is it time?” she asks without feeling or preamble.

“It's close enough, if you're ready.”

I keep my head on her shoulders as the moon sinks below Equus. We linger. Everything's going to be OK, I know it.

At last I raise my head, and with it the sun, and in the long light of my dawn see that Luna is crying; silent tears falling softly to the grass. Realizing I've seen her she looks back and smiles.”We do love thee, sister. We just wish they loved us, too.”

“They do.”

A moment goes by, and she smiles sadly. Another moment, and with an enthusiasm she was clearly trying to awaken within herself: “We made something for you!”

“Oh?”

“Yes! We noticed something in our nights which all the ponies seem to love: the ornament crafted from thine own sun!”

“An ornament from my sun, for the night?”

Her smile is genuine now, despite her lingering tears. “Mmm!” she nods enthusiastically. “We wish to give it to thee, so thou woudst know the depth of our love. Close thine eyes, my sister.” I smile back at her, and do as she asks. A brief tingle passes through me as her horn brushes my mane. “Open them, and follow us to the pond!”

In the placid spots among the rocks, shielded from the ripples of the falls, the water is clear, and smooth as glass. In its surface, our own faces look back at us; Luna's smile is as bright as my sun, and lit mostly by the light of love within. My own is awestruck at what my Sister has done for me.

“My hair...” I whisper. Instead of the flowing river of subtle pinks I've worn since first donning this shape, a prismatic tapestry of tresses waltzes on imperceptible, ethereal currents. I stare, gape, and then smile at the glamor of her unexpected gift, and my Sister's own well-known beauty which spurred it: inside and out. My dearest Luna, so beautiful, so thoughtful, even now!

“The colors of the aurora, sister; thy sun's own beauty shining in my nights! Thou can suppress it, if thy wish.”

“Why would I ever want to do that?”

“Well...” she looks at the pond as her tail swishes in the kind of sheepish flicks I haven't seen her make for at least a century. “It takes a bit of magic to keep it going. We imparted a little of our own so thou couldst see how it looks, but if it is not kept primed the spell will falter, then break.”

I shake my head, “I don't want to suppress it! I don't want it to falter! I'll wear it with love for you, everyday!” She giggles like the happy little filly she used to be, and rubs her neck against mine.

“Then we'll teach you the spell, but first...”

“First?”

“Come and play with us!” She leaps from the promontory at full gallop, then soars through the calm dawn sky. I am not far behind.