P A N O P T I C O N

I am Celestia, the Sun Goddess, so what constrains me to the tomfoolery of the politics of this world?

Why must I wait, twiddling my hooves with poorly-disguised frustration, while the policies that I know will aid the marginalized few founder and sink in the tumultuous, roiling sea that is Equestrian politics?

It isn't as if I am incapable of ending this lunacy. I could force into an uneasy detente -- but a detente nevertheless -- the latent hostility of the aristocracy and the commoners' resentment. What is it that prevents me from doing this, Forever?

As I muse more and more, I find myself wondering why I'm even asking the question. The only reason I do not know why I cannot act on my sole volition is I lack the capability to comprehend what is beyond my agency, at least directly. I should be able to circumvent traditions in a moment. I have before! I am the law, and the law is my plaything!

My agency extends and permeates throughout this entire world, and yet I am not incapable but unable to always pursue the most expedient methods.

How does this contradiction exist, Forever? What is the nature of power in this world? Is it the raw magical talents we bend to our will, which in turn allow us to perform impossible tasks?

If that were true, agency and power would be concentrated in beings such as myself, followed by the unicorn aristocracy. That seems to be the case, but what of the "special abilities" the earthbounds and the Pegasuses lay claim to? I have personally and empirically witnessed the effects of these abilities, which leads me to believe that they exist.

Is agency then linked not to refined magic? Empirical evidence would indicate that it is, which appears a contradiction. But if we examine the evidence within the scope of tradition, we find that the unicorns have long held a concentration of agency and power. That would adequately remove any contradiction, so I will accept it. For now. Although I feel it cannot be

What is the nature of power, then? Is it something predefined, codified, and immutable? I can raise the sun and lower it, but I traditionally cannot raise and lower the moon. When I exiled Luna, however, I was forced to raise and lower both. Does that constitute a mutation of the nature of power? Or could I always do this, but never thought to because of tradition?

Several inherencies appear to foil my elucidating this issue, much to my chagrin. Were we not engaged in what my ministers keep insisting is "a minor skirmish" with "some neighboring rogues" that somehow drains the coffers at an alarmingly prodigious rate, I would be able to devote more time to the matter. As it stands, I have but a few minutes more.

The devil is in the details. How would I manage to verify whether power is -- or was, or shall be -- immutable or the opposite when my ability to do so is constrained by that selfsame binary?

My only recourse seems to take as an axiom my omnipotence, or equate omnipotence with the near-omnipotence I surely enjoy.

Earlier I questioned knowledge, and examined my relationship with you, Forever. It seems I've climbed up another rung on the ladder with this questioning of the nature of power.

I do not understand why I am writing this journal, my dearest Forever. Nothing is "wrong" with my life: I enjoy near-omnipotence (or tell myself that I do); I enjoy my populace's overarching support, irregardless of whatever rabble-rousers may lay claim to the principles of "equitable rule of law" mandating a different form of government; I am content with the mundane ceremonies of courtly life however I may steam; and my life is simple and honorable.

I have attained apotheosis, have I not? I am capable of eviscerating my enemies wholly, utterly, and completely. My wrath is unmitigated, and firm and irrevocable is my doom. I can move the sun, Forever.

But destruction is not the sole provenance of my apotheosis. I hold the powers of friendship, of love, and of harmony. I have compassion for my enemies, even as my wrath knows no bounds. I am rumored to have created all.

I didn't, though. I arose out of what it was that came before me. I enabled my little ponies to grow into what they are now, and I intervened to save them. But I did not create them.

Is creation the province of the gods? It is easy to destroy, but it takes a true miracle to create something. And for all my power, I have never been able to create life. Am I then as a god? Or am I just masquerading as one, deluding even myself about my limitations?

I fear I am not a god, if by god we mean a supreme being. I am bound by the laws of this world, so perhaps I am a minor god of this world, but the distinction is irrelevant between minor god and powerful ruler.

I will never truly know the answer to that question, and so I must fear its answer eternally. That is my weakness, my veritable heel of Akilles. I must ask you, then, Forever: Am I a god? Does it matter if I am, or am not? What must I do to attain apotheosis, if I have not already?

It seems so silly, doesn't it? To worry about whether I am a god when I enjoy so many powers already? I am hailed as a god, so why does it matter if I am not? No one but I would know it. At least, no one but Luna, Cadance, Twilight (for I doubt I'd be able to keep a secret from her), and perhaps Shining would know.

Can I trust them? Thus I fear.