Gasping for air, Twilight tumbled onto the soft grass gracelessly.
“That was...” she began, clutching her chest as she tried to catch her breath. “... awful. How long have we been running?”
Celestia laughed wholeheartedly, ruffling Twilight’s mane with her hoof as she sat down next to her. The sun over the plains had almost set, leaving a red-orange glow on the mountains behind them. Luckily for both of them, Twilight had decided to collapse under one of the few trees these grasslands contained. Even though it didn’t look much like rain, you could never be too careful.
“Three, maybe four hours at most. Why?” Celestia replied.
“It feels like,” Twilight started, taking one last big breath before calming herself down. “It feels like we’ve been running for seventy-eight weeks.”
“Seventy-eight weeks?” Celestia asked, raising an eyebrow. “That’s awfully specific, Twilight.”
“I mean, if somepony were watching us run, it would be really frustrating because it’s as if we didn’t really do anything for an entire seventy-eight weeks. They would be screaming at us to get on with the picture already. At this point we couldn’t have gone further than twenty miles.” Twilight explained.
“Ponies watching us?” Celestia mused, putting a hoof to her chin. “If this is a performance, I would prefer it to be a musical. Regular stage shows are a bore.”
“This is serious, Princess,” Twilight deadpanned.
“You think too much, my faithful student.” Celestia replied. “Now if you’re half as hungry as I am, you should be…”
Celestia trailed off as she saw Twilight already digging through her saddlebags.
“... famished.”
Too tired to protest, Celestia picked up her own bags to inspect them, using her magic to open them up with a quick snap. It wasn’t much: four apples, a loaf of bread, and a thermos of what Luna called “moon soup.” Celestia couldn’t complain, though; Luna had never failed her when it came to cooking something. Then again, Luna had never actually tried to get back at her for any of the pranks she had played since her sister’s return. Either way she looked at it, it was a fifty-fifty. A fifty-fifty she wasn’t willing to chance during desperate times like this. Levitating an apple out of her bag, Celestia scooted over to lean up against the tree trunk next to Twilight.
Celestia couldn’t help but let her eyes wander over to her student. The only way she could describe Twilight at that moment was… comfortable. Carefree. She was biting into her loaf of bread with huge, unladylike chomps. It was as if to tell the world that right then, right in that moment she had absolutely no reservations. That she felt no need to be anypony else to impress her mentor. That she was happy, at least for right then.
Celestia chuckled softly, biting into her own apple as she shook her head. Twilight was so young. A grown mare as any, but just... young. Twilight didn’t carry weight like Celestia did. In some roundabout way, that lifted some of the weight off of Celestia’s own shoulder, if even a little. It was good to know that those around you were okay.
“So,” Twilight began, snapping Celestia out of her reverie. “Would you mind if I got another look at what lies ahead? I never really got to see the map for more than a few seconds.”
“Of course,” Celestia said, levitating the map out of her saddlebags and giving it over to Twilight. “I do warn you though, it’s quite outdated. Luna’s world map is over four thousand years old.”
Twilight unfurled the map, staring at it for a moment.
“Beautiful condition for such an old map,” she appraised.
Celestia facehoofed.
Apparently ignoring her mentor, Twilight furrowed her brows as she studied the map. “So if we’re here…” she said, placing a hoof on a poorly drawn patch of grass. “And Avania is here… wow.”
“It’s a long ways away,” Celestia agreed.
“We’re, in essence, going to the north pole and then some.” Twilight remarked, leaning back to look up at the slowly fading sky. “Wow.”
“Luna says that the most beautiful of white roses grow only in the north pole,” Celestia said, joining her student’s gaze upward. “She’s always been quite the gardener. It was an old hobby of hers when we were your age.”
“I can’t even imagine you two being my age,” Twilight said. “Equestria much have been such a different place back then.”
“Implying there even was an Equestria,” Celestia corrected.
Twilight looked back down at the map, eyeing one spot in particular. “What’s the Desert of Athanasia? It looks like we’ll be there pretty soon.”
“The Desert of Athanasia is the one place in this world I have never traversed,” Celestia said gravely, looking off to the north. “And a place I had never planned to. Legend has it that Athanasia is where the world began. It is said to be guarded by forces that no race has been able to understand, much less combat. It is a place where all magic, all reality and everything we know breaks down. To be fairly honest, I would do anything to avoid the desert.”
“Then why are we going there?” Twilight asked, putting a hoof to her temple. “If it’s such an ominous place, can’t we find a way around?”
“I’m sure we could,” Celestia agreed. “But time is of the essence here, Twilight. Athanasia is the one place I am sure the Grand Court won’t be looking for ponies crossing borders. It is crucial that we go undetected by the court; if we are discovered, it could lead to an international scandal larger than the wyvern incident. Speaking of that…”
Celestia lit up her horn, breathing slowly as she enveloped herself in a golden aura. Her entire body became engulfed in electricity that shot in and out of her, making her coat stand on ends. She snapped her eyes shut as the spell began to take effect, expelling a blinding light outwards.
When the light faded, Twilight gaped at Celestia. “You… You…”
Celestia was now about the same size as Twilight, albeit lacking in a horn she had possessed only minutes ago. Her ethereal, rainbow mane was now a single shade of light pink that had no intention of waving in mystical wind like her old mane did. Celestia’s wings had also visibly shrunk, now being similar to Rainbow Dash’s or Fluttershy’s.
“Well? How do I look?” Celestia asked.
Twilight’s face flushed. “I-I…” She began, dropping the map as she stammered over her words. “You look… really pretty, Celestia.”
Celestia smiled. “Well thank you, but there will be none of that,” she quipped. “From now on, my name is not Celestia, nor is my title princess. From this point on, and especially around anycreature else, call me Sunny Skies. Or, just Sunny is fine.”
“Alright then, Pri—” Twilight caught herself. “Sunny.”
“That’s not all,” Sunny said, reaching into her saddlebags to pull out a pair of brown, hooded cloaks. “We’re going to need these if we want to survive the changing climates out here. One day it will be sunny, one day it will rain, one day it will be scorching, and one day it will be freezing. The world is a very strange place, Twilight, and we’re about to get a nice taste of everything it has to offer.”
“And these cloaks are going to protect us from all that?” Twilight asked, eying her cloak incredulously before slipping it on over her back.
“They’re enchanted to protect their bearers from the weather.” Sunny explained as she put her own cloak on. “The only place they probably won’t work is in Athanasia. I’m not terribly sure whether any magic will work there or not, so be prepared to face the desert like any regular pegasus or earth pony.”
“Mhm,” Twilight yawned, placing her saddlebags behind her head as she laid down on the grass. “I think I’m about ready to hit the hay.”
“We have a lot more traveling to do tomorrow,” Sunny said as she lay down to join Twilight. “So we should get our rest. Don’t worry, though, we can walk through the desert when we get there.”
At that, Twilight smiled.
“Come on, Glee! Let’s go already!” Celestia said excitedly, jumping up and down as high as her stubby legs would allow her to as she flapped her tiny wings to get more lift. “You said we were going flying this morning!”
“Did I now?” Gleeringas asked in a soft, low voice. “How can I know you aren’t making things up?”
“I’m not a fibber! You said it!” Celestia protested in disbelief, a look of shock and dread appearing on her face.
Gleeringas smiled, reaching a talon down to carefully brush Celestia’s disheveled mane out of her eyes. It was a wonder to him how the filly could have such undying exuberance. If he ever tried to hop around like she did every day, he would probably find himself collapsed in the royal bedroom with some ginger ale and a headache. But there was no denying it: there was nothing more Gleeringas wanted to do than spend every moment he could with Celestia. There was just something about her. Something special he couldn’t place a claw on.
“Worry not, my faithful student,” Gleeringas said, walking toward his balcony with Celestia in tow. “I know what I promised. But you’re already failing the assignment.”
“Failing?” Celestia asked, her face scrunching up. “What am I doing wrong?”
“What is the first rule of flying?” Gleeringas asked, looking up at the sky as Celestia placed her forehooves on the balcony.
“To achieve the maximum airspeed velocity of an unladen pegasus in a safe and timely manner as to maintain punctuality and cathexis during any given flight process?” Celestia guessed with wide eyes.
Gleeringas looked down at his student with a blank expression. “What do your parents feed you back in Unicornia?”
“Oats.” Celestia replied.
“Right,” Gleeringas said, looking back out at the sky. “What’s the other first rule of flying?”
Celestia thought for a moment, unwilling to be incorrect a second time. “To… let the air carry you?”
“Exactly.” Gleeringas said, giving his wings a test flap. “Flying is about letting the world happen. You don’t have to control everything; the air knows exactly what it’s doing, and it will get you where you need to go. Flying is about feeling, experiencing, and letting go. It’s about letting the world take you in and show you around. More than anything, it’s about letting whatever happens happen. What aren’t you doing?”
“Flying?” she asked.
“Celestia.”
“I’m not letting whatever happens happen,” Celestia admitted, kicking at the ground with her hoof. “I”m sorry, Glee, I just want to fly.”
“Then let’s get to it. What are the four steps of taking off?”
Celestia closed her eyes in thought. “Step one: take stance and open your wings,” she said, steadying herself as she spoke. “Step two: flap your wings to check for any injuries,” she gave her wings a preliminary flap. “Step three: squat in preparation for liftoff,” she lowered herself to the ground. “Step four: jump forward, flap your wings, and—”
“Takeoff!” Gleeringas shouted as he shot into the air, quickly turning to dive down and speed below the balcony.
Celestia quickly jumped off the balcony and followed suit, riding his turbulence downwards as she glided to catch up with him. The air assaulted her muzzle, forcing itself upon her like a brick to a window.
“I’m doing it, Glee! I’m really doing it! I’m flying!” Celestia exclaimed as she caught up to her mentor, beaming with pride and excitement. “This is amazing!”
Then Celestia fell.
“Ughh…” Sunny groaned, massaging her temple with a hoof as her eyes adjusted to the morning light. Unfortunately for her, Luna was good at raising the sun on her own. Too good, Sunny thought. She knew that on her list of problems this was insignificant, but that didn’t mean Sunny didn’t enjoy sleeping in on her mornings. Her head was pounding, begging to break free from her skull with every awful, unwanted beat.
Next to her, Twilight didn’t seem to be having so much of a problem. She lay peacefully on the ground, snoring lightly as she breathed in and out. There was no denying it: this was one of the most adorable things Sunny had ever laid eyes on.
I wonder what she dreams about, Sunny mused. Books, probably.
As much as it pained her to do so, Sunny raised a hoof to lightly prod Twilight’s side. Twilight stirred uncomfortably, muttering something incomprehensible as she rolled over, turning her back to Sunny. Sunny continued her poking with more force, shaking Twilight back and forth as she spoke.
“Come on, Twilight,” Sunny said. “It’s time to get up,”
“I’m need to stop the noise,” Twilight mumbled to herself.
“What?” Sunny asked, stopping what she was doing in her confusion.
“Huh?” Twilight replied, turning to look at sunny as she jolted awake. “Oh. Good morning, Sunny. Did you sleep well?”
“Never better,” she lied, throwing her saddlebags over her back as she got up. “Let’s get moving, we have a lot of ground to cover today if we want to be in and out of Athanasia by nightfall. As nice as sightseeing is, I don’t want to spend any more time in the desert than I have to.”
“Agreed,” Twilight said, levitating her own gear onto her back. “I guess we can eat breakfast as we go. According to Luna’s map,” Twilight said, bringing the map up to both her and Sunny’s muzzles. “We should be a good five miles from the edge of the desert. If we go up through Scorpion’s Pass,” she pointed at a small strip of land in the desert. “We shouldn’t have to be in the desert for more than five hours or so. According to the map’s legend, Scorpion’s Pass is supposed to be some sort of bridge between old Unicornia and the fishing colonies of Valtameri.”
Sunny sighed. “Valtameri is not what it used to be, Twilight,” she said, rolling up the map and sticking it back into Twilight’s bag. “A once plentiful and joyous land is now dreary, polluted and damned. It is the result of those who gave in to the temptations of industrialization, something I will never allow to happen to Equestria.”
“What kind of creatures live there?” Twilight asked.
“Ponies like you and I,” Sunny answered. “During the Great Eastern War, the conflict between the unicorns, pegasi, and earth ponies that lasted for over four hundred years, many refugees disbanded from their old nations and came together to make a new one where peace would reign. The ideals of Valtameri would later serve as the building blocks for Equestrian government when the war came to end; however, not one of the refugees ever returned to their homeland. They were afraid of being persecuted by those who had remained loyal. That is why they travelled on the Scorpion’s Pass: everyone who wasn’t afraid of dying in the war was too afraid to enter Athanasia. It was a way of protecting themselves, and for some reason, the desert allowed it.”
“What do you mean, ‘the desert allowed it’?” Twilight asked in confusion. “Are you implying that Athanasia has a mind of its own?”
“I’m not implying it, Twilight,” Sunny corrected, beckoning Twilight to follow as she galloped forward. “I’m directly stating it. Athanasia has a way of judging those who pass through it. It judges their hearts and minds, and if they enter with malice inside of them, they are purged.”
“Purged?”
“Cleansed,” Sunny clarified. “The desert is a spirit of catharsis and justice. It fixes what is broken, and discards of what is unfixable. It is a living being as much as it is a large pile of mystic sand.”
“Mystic sand. Got it.”
Sunny and Twilight’s pace slowed as they felt the ground under them turn more dry and rough. Before them was a golden sea of sand, stretching as far as the eye did wander. What surprised Sunny was that there weren’t even any traces of plant life; no cacti, no brush, no nothing. Just dunes that seemed to go on forever. It was formidable. Frightening, even. It was the kind of place you could get lost in and never be found. I guess that’s what Athanasia wanted to begin with, she thought.
As they began walking into the desert, Sunny felt a strange sense of calm envelope her. It was as if all of her thoughts, all of her worries and excitements just vanished from her. She looked over at Twilight, who was absolutely mystified by the whole ordeal. Her eyes were scanning over the desert, taking in every single grain of sand like this place was the world’s eighth wonder. Sunny smiled. Even though she wasn’t too keen on being here, at least she had Twilight by her side. She didn’t even understand why, but for some reason… for some reason that made her feel safe. At peace.
“Oo,” Twilight said, leaning down to press her nuzzle into the sand. “Where did you come from, little guy?”
Sunny looked down to see what Twilight was talking about. Under her muzzle was a small, black scorpion that seemed intent on poking her snout curiously, causing Twilight to giggle infectiously as the bug played with her.
All of a sudden, Sunny’s ears perked up and she looked off at a dune. “Twilight…” she said slowly, her heart dropping into her stomach.
“Isn’t it cute?” Twilight asked, ignoring Sunny’s quickly darkening tone. “I’m going to name him Library.”
“Twilight. Put Library down.” Sunny demanded.
Twilight looked up at Sunny in frustration. “Why would I want to put Librar…” she trailed off as she followed Sunny’s gaze to five rapidly approaching scorpions that looked to be at least the size of ten ponies each.
“... oh.”
