Being supreme ruler and demigod of Equestria should in no way be allowed to interfere with the oppurtunities of having a relaxing evening, a good fire and light reading. It was the fundamental division of business and pleasure, albeit in Celestia’s case something of a more extreme example. In time, she hoped, young Twilight Sparkle would be learning to appreciate this truism in much the same manner. The absolute power had its perks of course, many of these which in turn were applied for the benefit of her more humble desires. To learn and explore, to appreciate great works of art and words of wisdom.
It was along this cheery seam of reflection that Celestia found her reverie interrupted by the quietest of sounds, a whoosh of warm air as if by a breeze passing suddenly through flame.
The scroll manifested itself with a pop of simple magics. Clean, uncrinkled parchment, richly adorned with the red seal of her very own School for Talented Unicorns.
“Twilight’s midterm grades?” the Princess mused quietly, as if the smug-seeming report might in Twilight’s stead be quick and eager to answer, Yes, yes! and, in Twilight’s most memorable manner bound about in circles, like a sine wave chasing its tail in delight. “Is the year passing so quickly?”
And Celestia smiled, and reflected briefly on the general follies of trying to track time when one ultimately could not, and broke the seal. Like Twilight as the perfectly behaved subject of her yearly dental checkups (of course having the best of access to the most skilled and courteous of professionals) the scroll opened like a mouth and said one thing in earnest helpfulness: AAAAAAh (the ‘h’ of course being entirely narrative, for no such grade could exist and would traumatise the poor filly irreperably if such a letter could be attributed to her academic standing [except, of course, for P.E., which she eschewed at every turn by ingrained instinct.])
Celestia was not overly surprised that her pupil had again excelled, though it pleased her no less than such a surprise would have been. This perhaps would have been the end of, but tucked in snugly at the bottom of the report was an additional page, smaller, much folded, worked over by a hoof somewhat acquanticed with the staining qualities of ink.
Her interest piqued, the Princess of Equestria opened this second, unexpected arrival. It was a note, scrawled in the hasty yet legible hoof of a teacher.
Twilight Sparkle continues to be an avid and enthusiastic worker in Language class. Her depth of comprehension and commitment to study leads her to excel within and often beyond the syllabus.
As a more informal observation I am somewhat worried by the continuing social isolation of the filly from her classmates. Worse still is that it seems to be a product of mutual design, for they exclude her from their sense of community as much as she actively isolates herself. I understand that it is not always easy for a child to intergrate, particularily so for such a highly sought after institute such as this, nor that all ponies feel the need in equal measure for social acceptance and approval.
As far as I can discern, she’s genuinely happy with her lot in life at this time.
Lastly, and in even greater degree of informality I would mention one small note of interest about Twilight Sparkle. While her technical grasp of the language and its application is impeccable, her Creative Writing scores, while still excellent, were significantly lower when compared to her other scores. In this area at least she seems to have confused the pointing hoof with the moon.
Otherwise I continue to be impressed with Twilight Sparkle. I am certain she will work great things in her life, and if I may stipulate perhaps may even go so far as to be a published writer of scholarly renown in whatever field of study she may choose, if indeed she can ever find the resolve to limit herself to only one.
- Proper Noun
Celestia read it slowly, thoroughtly, without the presumption of thinking she had understood context and nuance immedietly. It was, in fact, her very own Socratic method which she often applied to the trickier worded documents of legislature to be passed or vetoed by her hoof. After a second pass through the note she felt she was sufficently read of it to begin her speculation.
The words which she fell back upon again and again were three, although the contraction perhaps made it three and a half. Certainly three and a smidgen at the very least. She’s genuinely happy. Celestia took the greatest of solace in the sentiment.
It was at once both a point of sympathy and kinship for little Twilight Sparkle, Celestia’s own life being one much given to polite isolation in a similar fashion. That she could share something of her life’s pattern with the young student was in itself a catharsis of sorts, in effect they were alone, but alone together, and so each spared the other of the fullest extent of loneliness therein. It was like lighting two candles from one; it cost Celestia, the first, nothing to do so, and both in turn had the illumination and the warmth of the other.
From content to speculative, Celestia’s feeling took roundabout means from one emotion to the next. Presently a wanton, unanticpated giddiness made itself known, as if she were a filly Twilight’s own age, seated next to her in class, sharing secrets. It was, she knew in the wider picture nothing so real, but this came as much the other joys of her life did, foremost by modesty, in subtlety and appreciation.
“Poetry,” the Princess mused with a half-smile. Ever ready for just such moments of whimsy, quill and parchment drifted in at Celestia’s magical summons. Had Spike not proven himself now capable of the Sending Fire just last month? Had she herself not been the light of Twilight Sparkle’s day? Adding a good birch log to the fire, Celestia readied quill and composed her thoughts. Poetry, poetry... She had no patience to be the pedagogue just now. Something simple, and fun...
My Twilight Sparkle
Your grades are commendable
I trust you are well?
This she sent on its way with a exhalation of breath and faintest touch of dragon’s fire. The note fell away to cinders, these to sparkles, these in turn to an indistinct and shimmering haze, speeding along on its way up and out the hearth.
The promptness in response alone made Celestia smile. Oh, how truly eager Twilight was to please! It read:
Princess! You saw my grades? Are they good enough?
Celestia pouted as she thought, the tapping of the quilltip the summation of her thoughts. Then, with a crescendo of a single, louder tap, she began to write.
Relax, all is fine
You have no reason to stress
Just try some haiku.
The response, with the hasty scratchings of one who had not headed her Princess’ pleas to relax:
Princess! I don’t understand what you’re doing. Is this a test? Did I fail a TEST? Was it my poetry test? I studied, I promise I did!
Celestia rubbed her forehead, her eyes shut with concentration. This silly child, her anxiousness to prove herself going hoof in hoof with, well, with anxiety. Celestia sighed and wrote again.
Have more faith Twilight,
This isn’t some test to pass.
Poetry. It’s fun!
Twilight took some time in replying now. Perhaps now she was done with panicking, and was catching on? This latest parchment bore the scritches, scratches and crossing outs of a filly exherting her mental prowess, which have been excised here for the purpose of a cleaner narrative environment.
Haiku? Poem, five
syllables, then seven, wait
I think there’s one more?
That is a good start
In simplest form we can
change how we say things
A too long moment of hesitancy...
No need for pretense
Twilight Sparkle can write words
And I will read them
Textbook examples
Were not like this at all, I
don’t know what to say!
Would you feel better
To know I’m enjoying this
fun correspondence?
But really I’m not
saying anything! I don’t know.
What should I do now?
Ah, one of those sorts of questions. Celestia, not normally a quill-tip chewer, indulged in this rare behaviour now. A lingering scent of burnt parchment was beginning to make itself known in the air, like a strange and unplaceable incense.
You overthink this
Not everything is study
For some sneaky test.
Spike getting dizzy
His burps are kind of sickly
I’m sorry, Princess
Alright than, last one
Just try not to stress so much
My faitiful student.
With the termination of this little game Celestia felt now what could be called melancholy, though one sweetly tempered by lingering amusement. How strange a thing to have done, yet done she had. And Twilight for her part had held up well. Yet...even in silliness something in the unicorn could not accept that Celestia, Princess and Teacher could (and truly, was) also Celestia, friend.
The alicorn sighed as she gathered together the disparate notes and bound them lovingly together in a tome. This done, it was the report card that called loudest to Celestia’s troubled thoughts. Again the note, and again the careful reading, the Princess pouring over each sentence carefully. Her eyes fell upon three words, and this time it was not three and a half or three and a smidgen, but three words exact, beyond doubt or deliberation.
They were: At this time. Genuinely happy with her lot in life at this time. And oh how time moved so quickly, well she knew! Such thoughts disturbing her peace of mind. Celestia went to the window, where the moon was quickly floating bouyant atop the last rays of evening. The Mare in the Moon, that mythic face, seemed to stare at Celestia with questioning.
“There’s still time,” she whispered to that distant body. “She still has time to learn. And she will.”
The alicorn Princess of Equestria resigned herself to an early night promising less than restful sleep “...just not from me, it seems,” Celestia murmurred as she settled herself in under the sheets and thought of waiting for sleep. Despite her misgivings, sleep did come upon her, and swiftly at that.
She did not hear the quietest of sounds, the warm whoosh that passsed her over like a breeze through gentle flame did not wake her. The note came to be with a tiny, humble pop and settled atop the resting form of Celestia.
I am sleepy now
And I’ve put Spike in his bed
Good night to you too.
