Who am I? I always ask that question. I know of me, but I do not know who I am. I am alone, this much I know. I am silent, a sentinel, and I am both something and nothing. I can see nothing, but am not blind. I can hear nothing, but am not deaf. I can sense all, but am not psychic. I am what is and what is not, and yet I exist.
Do I exist? I ask that question also. I live, I suppose, though I do not do any of the things the living would. I neither eat nor breathe, I do not feel… I do not think…
But thinking, is that not what I am doing now? I think now, apparently, for to make words one has to think. I find this puzzling, for never before could I think, I created desire long ago in my mind, and now that I desire to think I have the facility to do so. I know not why I created my desire, for I had not yet created memory. I have created memory now, of course, for I know of it and what it is, but I know not why, or when I did so.
What is when? I thought the word just now but I have no meaning for it. I will assign meaning to it, a word that refers to the point an even occurred. I have made ‘when’ a point, but a point on what exactly? I have created nothing for this point to exist upon. I do have an idea though, something vast and grand. I will make events progress from one to another in a specific order, yes that would work, and what has happened later will not exist in the now. I will though, the before to exist in the now, for the excitement, and so memory will also follow the same line as my creation dictates.
Time, that is what I will call this new thing. I enjoy time, for it is as I am, ever present and infinitely continuous. I will not give time thought though, for I am afraid of what time would do with thought. I believe if I gave time thought it would become like me. I do not desire this, for if there were another like me I would no longer be unique.
Fear, this is a new thing. I created it, I had to have created it, but it was never something I desired. I have formed a feeling, different from the sense of touch, that exists in the mind. I can analyze it, how it causes an innate aversion of one thing or another, but is knowing what a thing is truly experiencing it as I am now? I did not like fear at first, but now I am finding use for it. I see fear as a tool to tell between what is safe and what is not.
But why should I stop there? I can make whatever I desire, so why not create? I will manipulate fear in my mind, give it two unique, refined forms. I will call the first anger, and it will be the result of the desire to end fear. I will call the second sadness, which will be the acceptance of fear. I find this good, but it is not all I can do. I create one more, the opposite of all these, a feeling that causes the mind bliss and a sense of safety. I will call this final feeling happiness, and as a whole they will be called emotion.
Loneliness, this is another new thing. I notice that several other things came with these emotions, sharper, more refined versions of each one. I suppose this is one of them, this desire for companionship. I will give something else thought, but not yet. I have a new idea. I will create a thing that is neither thought nor time, a thing that will give me happiness, enough perhaps to dispel the present loneliness.
Light, that is what I call my new creation. I fear it would be futile to describe it with the words I created, but I must try. I can sense its warmth, the moving of the light at incredible speeds, the abstract form it takes as I detect it. I notice the cold, the lack of warmth, wherever the light is not. I do not like this cold, nor do I enjoy the way it is one with the warmth. I think long of this, and a solution presents itself. I fear what I may do when this happens, but when one creates, risks must be taken.
Matter, mass, dimensions. I watched in awe as my creation takes fantastic shape as I separate the light from the darkness. I created color, seven shades at first, then an infinite number of shades between them, and the light lets the color be seen as it is absorbed into the expanse that I have slowly begun to fill. I have created stars, great orbs of light, to penetrate the blank canvas called darkness. I am well pleased with all of this, but there is perhaps more…
Elements, I made just fewer than three hundred using different combinations of even smaller things. I created matter from quarks and now I create mass from atoms. I have billions of these atoms in the smallest grain of mass, and innumerable amounts in the universe at large. I call my creation the universe, for it is everything, and it is mine.
Gravity, another intangible force I have created. I think it similar to time, though vastly different in its role and purpose, the once random and chaotic universe falling into an order, my order, the order I myself sought to create and did so of my own will and volition. I feel intense happiness, and a new emotion, pride, for my creation. I can see the elements forming huge spheres around my stars, making systems of balance. I can see that no longer must I have a say in all creation for events to occur as they now move through time on their own. I stay here for awhile, admiring all my things for a very great length of time, watching as systems change and stars die and are reborn from the clouds of particles they form in death. I am so proud of my creation, but it is, I feel, not yet complete.
There is one thing, one final idea that I have hesitated all this time to add to my creation. I had the idea long ago when I was first observing time and how it worked. I still wonder, as I did when separating the light from the dark, if this is the best thing to do for my creation. I feel afraid, for once I begin this I know what I will eventually feel compelled to do. I fear myself, and my inevitable actions above all else. I still feel loneliness, the need for companionship, and if I continue with my plan that feeling could run away with me. I don’t care though, I’m ready, the mold is there, and I will build with it.
Life, it is the first thing since light that I have created that brings me joy. I have creatures, with the capacity to move freely within their environments. I will call them animals, and give them food called plants. I did, for some time in fact, contemplate allowing them to eat one another exclusively, but found it barbaric and sick. I think back to my early memory, when I was curious as to whether or not I was alive. I now ponder, because I know of the existence of life in order to compare myself to them. I wonder how I could have known of the existence of life all the way back then, long before I had created it. I believe, though I may be mistaken, that some form of life existed before I created memory, perhaps even before I myself existed, if that is, indeed, possible.
A new form of life has emerged from the constantly moving evolutionary pool. I think they are elegant in form with their four stout legs and strong bodies. I observed their peaceful nature and find it appealing. I am amazed that while they do not have my gift of thought they instinctively drive themselves to a sort of peace and harmony with the other creatures I have created. I have decided, for there is no better creature upon which I can bestow the first blessing, to finally grant them the infinite and unimaginable gift of thought.
The ponies, for that is what I have named them, have not abused the gift of thought. I have found that on the contrary, they have utilized it better than I dared hope them to. I have been witness to countless marvels of architecture and art, the likes of which I could never have thought of with my entire infinite mind. I watch them as they develop fantastic philosophy of the sort that I, their omnipotent creator, have taken much time to consider. I find it amazing above all else that they have begun to measure time in increments mere moments that build into such perfect things that they can judge the movement of the stars, sun, and moon on their tiny sphere of rock. I see them as they paint the seasons of their little planet in perfect accord, as if watching a symphony while learning to conduct, which they indeed do very often on their own. I have developed something of a soft spot, as they say, for my creations, a relationship that they describe as motherly. I feel, perhaps, I should give them some sort of a test. I know they are not perfect, and maybe some sort of conflict could improve their already incredible abilities and unearth an even greater potential.
My little ponies have never made me as proud as they have now… I gave them a terrible test, a sorcerer that should never have thought was sent against them with knowledge enough to create magic of his own. I forced myself to watch emotionlessly as they did battle, the sorcerer using the powers of the dark rainbow to turn my beautiful ponies into terrible monsters. I couldn’t contain my pride when they defeated the evil and brought peace back to the land. I released violent exclamations of praise that of course none of them could hear. I have come to care so deeply for my little ponies… I am amazed that they can cause the emotion that I created to overwhelm me so… I have decided that I will give them a gift soon, a reward of sorts, something that their entire race will be able to remember forever. I have an idea already, and I hope with all my being that they will appreciate it.
This is a momentous occasion. I watched from above today as the blessed twins entered the world, my world, and let their first violent breaths expel from their lungs. I gave them each a special blessing, the boy was given wings with which he would never again be the slave of gravity. I have the girl a portion of my own power, which with focus could be used telekinetically to a tremendous extent. I know they will suffer from hardships at first as the ponies without their gifts struggle to accept them, but they are decent pony folk who will make an effort and hopefully succeed in it. I have pride once again for my creation, and my decision, for I am sure that any other race given these blessings would have rejected them to a horrible waste.
The ancestors of the blessed twins have been fruitful and multiplied. I have watched as my ponies created their own nations, one for the pegasi, one for the unicorns, and one for the ponies of earth. I worried from the onset that those without flight or magic were receiving unfair treatment, but they too have prospered, becoming as strong as they hills and masters of farming, mining, and smithing. I find that the divisions of three races as done little to truly divide them, and I cannot wait to see how they continue in the years to come.
Just as I can feel pride for my precious ponies, I can also feel sorrow on their behalf. I knew disaster would fall on them eventually, and as I feared, they have begun to fall prey to the terrible emotions of hatred, anger, and jealousy. I am distraught as I view the ever-growing rift between the three races, fearful that they may turn the blessings I gave them into tools for greater harm. I know there is nothing more I can do, but I still feel as if I have become a failure of a creator…
Windigos, be damned the windigos. I curse them to the depths of my Tartarus and back. I observed as the horrible monsters learned to feed on the abundant hatred between my ponies. I curse them, and their terrible ability to spread the all too present hatred even further with their abilities to freeze the lands of the ponies, making them harsh and unlivable. I watch, even now, as some of the last of the ponies hide away from them in caves, while the violent hatred continues to consume them from within. I feel my own hope slowly leaving my being, afraid that the race that I loved and blessed so much could perhaps be in its final moments…
Astounded, yet again, by my little ponies. I never should have doubted them. I knew they would prove their worth and they did, those last three did. I watched, shocked, as those valiant three ponies did what their ‘brave’ leaders could not and came together in a time of ultimate sorrow and vanquished the windigos. I am ashamed… I did nothing to help them… I must do better next time…
My decision is made. I am going to join them. I accept the fact that I will void my godly powers to do so, but I care little for such trifles. I care for them far more than I do any personal power my current being has to offer. I cannot simply let them go against their terrible world alone. I have spent years of their time, as they prospered uncaring beneath me, pondering what for I would take upon my arrival, what name I would select, and how I would introduce myself to my creation. I believe now, after all this long time, that I have come to a conclusion…
My form was plain, yet perfect. I was built larger than my ponies, but with the same form, tall and slender and as beautiful as the sun I placed in the sky for them to admire. I felt that I could awe them all the more if all could feel empathy toward me the same way I felt toward them all, so I gave myself both the wings of the pegasi and the magical horn of a unicorn. I painted my coat a wonderful white, reminiscent of the first light I gave to their world, before any of them ever existed, complimenting the effect with the colors of that same light rebounding away from the poles of their world in the vibrant colors that now imbued my flowing mane and tail. I will descend now… I will accept whatever fate awaits me in the realm of my little ponies…
My little ponies… I stared across the single small village of them, all in awe of my presence. I stayed still in silence for a very great increment of time, worried that my sudden appearance may have frightened them. I was further concerned as a few ponies closed their doors against me. I was conflicted now, had I made a mistake? Could I even still reach out to them?
A small tug on my tail brought my gaze downward to where a young filly was looking up at me with bright beautiful eyes, eyes she would never know I crafted for her. “Um… hello miss…” she said, excited at the sight of me, though frightened at the same time by her lack of knowledge of what I was “Who are you? I ain’t seen you round here before.” I noticed her interesting accent, that which had once been reserved for the farmers of the earth ponies now apparently a staple among the other races, the young pegasus included.
I smiled, if this little filly would be the first of my charge then I was well pleased. “My name is Celestia,” I said, beaming down at her in pride “And I am here to help.”
Author's Note
This story is the result of my tired mind finding an interesting little pool of inspiration. I drank from it and this story poured from my lips like a fountain, lettings words flow intelligible to others but not to my own mind.
In all seriousness, this is a one shot, intended to let me try and get ahold of where my brain wants to go with the others stories I need to update but are still in production. Thanks for everyone who likes my works enough to read it, but sorry if you like this as much as my others as there will most likely not be a sequal. I may write one if this gets really popular (I have a REALLY half baked idea with no intention of using) but don't get your hopes up.
Anyway, thanks for reading, see you all later with something entirely new!
-CC
