A Series of Eventsby GaPJaxieChaptersGrassSexRaceGrassOnce upon a time, there was a pony. And that was sufficient. Eventually however, the pony’s boundary conditions changed, which produced another series of changes, and so on and so forth, until its steady state was not sufficient. Then, it asked a question. “What am I?” it asked. “You are a pony,” answered the creature who had created it. The pony did not know that word, but it still found the answer very helpful. Even if it did not fully understand what “pony” meant, just having the word allowed it to distinguish itself from things that were not ponies. For some time, this made it quite happy, until it realized that with no knowledge of what a pony was, it had no way of knowing if any creature or object it encountered was also a pony. Thus, the pony realized, it had learned nothing. “What is a pony?” it asked. “A subgroup of the species equus ferus sapien, commonly known as horses. As a group, ponies are characterized by a relatively small frame and mild temperament. While specific traits vary widely by phenotype, many breeds of ponies also posses a variety of magical abilities,” answered the creature who had created it. The pony thought about this for a time, and feeling very much confused, asked, “Relatively small compared to what?” “Larger horses,” answered the creature who had created it. The pony did not find this helpful. “Do I have a name?” asked the pony, after some time had passed. “Yes,” answered the creature who had created it. “What is my name?” asked the pony. “You are Celestia,” answered the creature who had created it. The pony quite liked that answer. A name let it distinguish itself from the rest of the world, without excessive worrying about exactly what a pony was. Now the pony could stop thinking of itself as just another object. It was Celestia now, and Celestia quite liked its name. The sound was pleasant to the ears, and Celestia felt this made it good. “Do I have a purpose?” asked Celestia, now with more enthusiasm for the answers it might receive. “Yes,” answered the creature who had created it. “What is my purpose?” asked Celestia. It still liked the way its name felt. “To produce, encourage, and maintain harmony in the world,” answered the creature who had created it. Celestia liked that answer even more. It didn’t understand what “harmony” was, but it seemed very important. And it was another pleasant sound—one associated with Celestia, which made it better. “And how do I produce, encourage, and maintain harmony in the world?” asked Celestia. “By eating grass,” answered the creature who had created it. This answer was not as satisfying as Celestia had hoped, but after a moment of disappointment, it decided that it might not have asked the right question. Perhaps there were subtleties it did not understand. “Do I do anything with the grass?” it asked. “You convert it into poop,” answered the creature who had created it. Celestia did not like this answer at all. It did not sound very important, and had a distinct lack of pleasant noises. “I produce, encourage, and maintain harmony in the world, by... eating grass, and converting it into poop,” Celestia repeated aloud, so as to make sure it had understood correctly. “Yes,” answered the creature who had created it. “Given your current state and the boundary conditions of the universe, you will, given an instruction to eat grass, initiate a series of events which will ultimately result in in the production, encouragement, and maintenance of harmony in the world.” “Oh...” Celestia said. It did not understand all of the words, but they did not sound at all encouraging. “What if I don’t eat the grass?” “You will get hungry,” answered the creature who had created it. Celestia did not say anything to that for some time. It did not have any reason to despair that it could articulate. Indeed, it was not entirely certain that what it was experiencing was despair. Having no past positive or negative feelings to draw on, it had no idea if it was experiencing soul-crushing depression or mild boredom. It was, however, certain that it was experiencing a negative emotion, and that it did not like that. “Will I enjoy eating the grass?” Celestia asked. “Relatively so,” answered the creature who had created it. “Relative to what?” Celestia asked. “Things you enjoy less than eating grass,” answered the creature who had created it. “As determined contextually.” Celestia did not understand that answer, or why not understanding the answer made its negative emotion hurt more. But, the emotion did hurt, and the more Celestia thought about the answer, the worse the hurt became. “Where can I find grass?” Celestia asked. “In the garden behind you,” answered the creature who had created it. Celestia turned, and saw that there was indeed a garden behind it, full of trees, and bushes, and grass. It walked to the garden, and sat down, taking careful note of the feeling of the grass beneath it. It had never touched grass before. It had never touched anything before, and it felt a trace of happiness at that. Despite the negative emotion it was currently experiencing, its first physical sensation was a good one. Pleasent. Perhaps, Celestia thought, it had misjudged the entire grass situation. Perhaps, it thought, this could be good. It leaned down to take a bite, and chewed on the grass thoughtfully. It continued to do that, until another pony approached. SexOnce upon a time, there was a pony. And that was sufficient. Eventually however, the pony’s boundary conditions changed, which produced another series of changes, and so on and so forth, until its steady state was not sufficient. Then, it asked a question. “Will you mate with me?” it asked another pony, whose name was Celestia. Celestia thought about that for some time, continuing to eat grass as it did. This was its first meeting with another pony, so it would have had a lot to think about even if the other pony had not asked her a question. Primarily, Celestia wasn’t sure if the creature in front of it was a pony or not. It resembled Celestia in many respects—such as its hooves—but was unlike Celestia in many other respects. It was dappled grey instead of white, its horn was shorter, and it had no wings. Celestia was not sure if these traits precluded it being a pony or not. Eventually, Celestia noticed that it was about twice the size of the new creature, and it decided that meant the new creature was very likely a pony. Its creator had explained that ponies were small horses, after all, relative to larger horses. Celestia was larger than it, and it was relatively small. Therefore, it was a pony. “What is mating?” Celestia asked the other pony. “It is the process by which new ponies are created,” explained the other pony. “You can create new ponies?” asked Celestia. Ponies seemed very complicated, and it thought that watching one being built would be very interesting. “Not exactly,” answered the other pony. Its speech took on a strange tone, and one of its ears folded back. “As my creator explained it to me, mating is the process by which genetic material is transferred between living creatures, allowing for the creation of new individual life forms which reflect the traits of both parents.” “Oh...” Celestia said, thinking that over. “What does that mean?” “I... have no idea,” said the other pony. Its other ear folded back as well, and its cheeks turned slightly red. That caused Celestia to feel a strange emotion, though it was not sure if it was positive or negative. It seemed to have aspects of both. “How were you going to mate with me if you don’t know what mating is?” Celestia asked. “There is an emotion I experiance when I see a mare,” the other pony explained. “When I feel that emotion strongly enough, there is a part of me I insert in a part of her, and that causes her to produce another pony.” “Oh,” Celestia said. That seemed a very odd and complicated means of asking a ‘mare’ to produce a pony. Perhaps mares were deaf. “What is a mare?” “You’re a mare,” the other pony said, its ears perking back up. “No I’m a pony,” Celestia said. “A mare is a kind of pony,” the other pony said. “Some ponies have this extra bit here.” It lifted a leg, leaning its head down to point underneath it. “Those ponies are called stallions, and you refer to them as ‘he,’ or ‘him.’ They cannot make new ponies but can cause mares to do so by mating. Ponies without that extra bit are called mares. They have another bit instead that lets them produce new ponies, and you refer to them as ‘her,’ or ‘she.’” “Oh!” Celestia said, finding the idea very interesting. Not only had she understood every word, which made it a very good explanation in her opinion, but apparently there were things about itself—herself—that she hadn’t thought to task her creator. “So, if we mated, you would look at me and feel an emotion, and then insert your extra bit, and I would make a new pony?” “I think so,” the other pony said. “That’s how it was explained to me.” “Very interesting,” Celestia said. She wondered if the extra part gave her the knowledge of how to build ponies, or if it was mostly a matter of furnishing her with tools. “But I shouldn't. I’m very curious how ponies are made, but they seem complicated. I think making one would take a long time, and I’m supposed to be eating this grass. I’m not sure I can be away that long.” “Oh.” The other ponies ears drooped again, and that conflicting emotion Celestia felt earlier returned. “You can stay and eat grass with me, if you’d like,” Celestia offered. She was not completely sure why she said that, but she felt pleased when the other pony sat down next to her and started to eat grass as well. “Is this your purpose?” the other pony asked. “To eat grass?” “No, my purpose is to produce, encourage, and maintain harmony in the world,” Celestia said. “But apparently, eating grass does that somehow.” She paused a moment, and then added, “I was hoping for something more, but the grass is good.” “Oh,” the other pony said. He chewed the grass for a moment. “The grass is good. And I think your size will make you good at eating it.” He too paused a moment, as Celestia had, before continuing, “At least you are well suited to your purpose.” Celestia did not know what to make of that. The idea of being well-suited for her purpose being inherently desirable had not occurred to her until the stallion said as much. It seemed a reasonable notion, but it struck her as very strange that he would say it that way. “Do you think you are not well suited to your purpose?” she asked. “I have already met four mares, and all of them have declined to mate with me,” he said. “Without any basis for comparison, I do not know if this is a large number of mares, but... I worry that I am not very good at mating.” His tone changed as he spoke, and that strange emotion returned to Celestia. The one that was both positive and negative at once. She took a moment to think about it—about how it made her hurt that he was in pain. She to make him feel better, but she did not know how. “When I declined to mate with you,” she said after some thought. “It was not because of any errors on your part. Given that it is your purpose, I would assume you are excellent at mating, and would cause me to assemble many new ponies.” Celestia could see that her words were having an effect. The stallion’s ears rose, and he turned to look at her more attentively. This in turn made her feel better, as the negative aspects of that emotion receded, while the positive feelings remained. “But how am I to fulfill my purpose, if mares will not mate with me?” he asked Celestia. “I declined to mate with you because mating with you would not advance my purpose,” Celestia said. “So, I think you should find mares whose purposes would be served by mating with you.” The other stallion tilted his head, tapping his hoof to his chin. It was a very strange gesture, but Celestia understood it at once. “That makes sense,” he said. “But how will I find such mares?” Celestia didn’t have a good answer to that, and so took some time to think about the problem. “I do not see any solution except to ask them what their purpose is,” Celestia finally said. “By learning more about them, perhaps you will see a means by which their purpose might be advanced by mating with you.” “Would it not be more efficient to state my purpose and ask them if their own is compatible with mine?” the stallion asked. Celestia shook her head. “Not necessarily. They are ponies as well, with purposes and knowledge separate from your own. By understanding them better, and then using that knowledge to help them, you will make it possible for them to help you in return.” The stallion thought about that for some time, and finally, nodded. “Yes. I think you are right. I didn’t learn anything about the last three mares I met. I only asked if they wanted to mate, and then left when they declined. Perhaps, after learning more about them, I will be successful.” “I am glad I have helped you,” Celestia said, and it was true, though she did not know why. “Will you go talk to them now?” “Yes,” the stallion said, rising back to his hooves. He did not walk away immediately though, and instead, looked back to Celestia. “Would you like to come with me? There is grass where these three mares dwell, and at all the places between, so your purpose need not be impaired.” Celestia considered the stallion, and the strange feelings that followed him, and then she too, nodded. She decided she liked the gesture, and then rose. “Yes, I would like to come with you.” The two walked like that for some time, among the grass and the trees and the bushes, before the stallion asked, “Do you have a name?” “Yes. It’s Celestia,” said Celestia. “Mine is Begat,” said Begat, and even though Celestia had not asked, she was glad he had told her. They spent the rest of the walk in silence, until they reached the glade where the three mares dwelt. RaceOnce upon a time, there was a pony. And that was sufficient. Eventually however, the pony’s boundary conditions changed, which produced another series of changes, and so on and so forth, until its steady state was not sufficient. Then, it asked a question. “Are these the mares you spoke of earlier?” Celestia asked Begat. He nodded. Celestia was not sure she liked that answer. Though her experience with emotions was much greater than it has been only a few hours ago, the complexity of her emotions seemed to be increasing as well. There was something she felt, looking at the three mares, and it was not entirely positive. All three of the mares were small, like begat, but they were not exactly the same as him. One was a dappled grey, and had a horn but no wings. She rested upon a dais in the garden. One was a bright blue, and had wings but no horn. She rested upon a cloud. One was a light tan, and had neither wings nor a horn. She was working to plant a row of flowers in the garden, covered in dirt and mud. “Hello,” said Celestia, and all three mares took notice of her. “Who are you?” “I am Enchantment,” said the one with the horn but no wings. “I’m a unicorn.” “I am Wind,” said the one with the wings but no horn. “I’m a pegasus.” “I am Toil,” said the one with neither horn nor wings. “I’m an earth pony.” “Oh,” said Celestia. “Are you also ponies?” “Yes,” explained Enchantment. “Unicorns are ponies with horns. Unicorns are responsible for for maintaining and regulating magic in the world.” “And Pegasi are ponies with wings,” added Wind. “Pegasi are responsible for maintaining weather and wind patterns in the world.” “And earth ponies,” said Toil, with a sigh, “are ponies without wings or horns, and we are responsible for the garden and all its plants.” “Is that correct?” Celestia asked. “Begat has a horn but no wings, but his responsibility is to mate, not to maintain and regulate magic in the world.” “Race,” explained Enchantment, from her relaxed position upon the dais, “is extra. Begat is responsible for mating and for magic.” “As our Creator explained it,” Wind continued, “every pony has a race, and everypony’s extra duties are just as important as their regular ones.” “We cannot neglect the duties of our kind,” Toil added. Begat and Celestia both looked uncertain at this news, glancing at each other as they considered their reply. Celestia was worried. If every pony had a race, and she was a pony, she must have had a race. That meant she had responsibilities she was unaware of, and thus was not fulfilling. “What is my race?” Celestia asked. “You are a unicorn,” said Enchantment, “because you have a horn.” “No, you are a pegasus,” said Wind, “because you have wings.” Toil said nothing, and after a time, Begat spoke in her place. "What must I do in order to maintain and regulate magic in the world?" "Nothing right now," Enchantment said. "At least, as far as I am aware." Begat nodded, and after a time, he stepped up alongside Toil, and began to dig with her. She smiled at him, and Celestia watched as a blush appeared in her cheeks. “Actually,” said Celestia. “I am an earth pony.” At that, all four ponies around her stopped and stared, for her statement seemed to contradict what they had all just heard. “You see,” said Celestia, “A unicorn has one horn and zero wings, but Enchantment has said that I am a unicorn, even though I have wings. This means I have one horn and zero wings, which makes me a unicorn, plus one set of wings. So I am a winged unicorn.” Enchantment nodded at this, but Celestia continued speaking. “Further,” she said, “A pegasus has zero horns and one set of wings, but Wind said that I am a pegasus, even though I have a horn. This means I have zero horns and one set of wings, which makes me a pegasus, plus one horn. so I am a horned pegasus.” Wind nodded at this, but still Celestia continued. “However,” she said, “An earth pony has zero horns and zero wings. I have zero horns and zero wings, plus one horn, plus one set of wings. Therefore,” she concluded. “I am a winged horned earth pony.” “In fact,” she added after a moment’s more thought. “By the definitions you have given, every pony is an earth pony, and we are all equally responsible for the garden.” Wind and Enchantment looked at each other with growing concern, and after a moment, hopped from their perches to rush to assist Toil. Toil accepted their help, but she smiled only at Begat. Nearby, Celestia ate grass, and thought.
GrassOnce upon a time, there was a pony. And that was sufficient. Eventually however, the pony’s boundary conditions changed, which produced another series of changes, and so on and so forth, until its steady state was not sufficient. Then, it asked a question. “What am I?” it asked. “You are a pony,” answered the creature who had created it. The pony did not know that word, but it still found the answer very helpful. Even if it did not fully understand what “pony” meant, just having the word allowed it to distinguish itself from things that were not ponies. For some time, this made it quite happy, until it realized that with no knowledge of what a pony was, it had no way of knowing if any creature or object it encountered was also a pony. Thus, the pony realized, it had learned nothing. “What is a pony?” it asked. “A subgroup of the species equus ferus sapien, commonly known as horses. As a group, ponies are characterized by a relatively small frame and mild temperament. While specific traits vary widely by phenotype, many breeds of ponies also posses a variety of magical abilities,” answered the creature who had created it. The pony thought about this for a time, and feeling very much confused, asked, “Relatively small compared to what?” “Larger horses,” answered the creature who had created it. The pony did not find this helpful. “Do I have a name?” asked the pony, after some time had passed. “Yes,” answered the creature who had created it. “What is my name?” asked the pony. “You are Celestia,” answered the creature who had created it. The pony quite liked that answer. A name let it distinguish itself from the rest of the world, without excessive worrying about exactly what a pony was. Now the pony could stop thinking of itself as just another object. It was Celestia now, and Celestia quite liked its name. The sound was pleasant to the ears, and Celestia felt this made it good. “Do I have a purpose?” asked Celestia, now with more enthusiasm for the answers it might receive. “Yes,” answered the creature who had created it. “What is my purpose?” asked Celestia. It still liked the way its name felt. “To produce, encourage, and maintain harmony in the world,” answered the creature who had created it. Celestia liked that answer even more. It didn’t understand what “harmony” was, but it seemed very important. And it was another pleasant sound—one associated with Celestia, which made it better. “And how do I produce, encourage, and maintain harmony in the world?” asked Celestia. “By eating grass,” answered the creature who had created it. This answer was not as satisfying as Celestia had hoped, but after a moment of disappointment, it decided that it might not have asked the right question. Perhaps there were subtleties it did not understand. “Do I do anything with the grass?” it asked. “You convert it into poop,” answered the creature who had created it. Celestia did not like this answer at all. It did not sound very important, and had a distinct lack of pleasant noises. “I produce, encourage, and maintain harmony in the world, by... eating grass, and converting it into poop,” Celestia repeated aloud, so as to make sure it had understood correctly. “Yes,” answered the creature who had created it. “Given your current state and the boundary conditions of the universe, you will, given an instruction to eat grass, initiate a series of events which will ultimately result in in the production, encouragement, and maintenance of harmony in the world.” “Oh...” Celestia said. It did not understand all of the words, but they did not sound at all encouraging. “What if I don’t eat the grass?” “You will get hungry,” answered the creature who had created it. Celestia did not say anything to that for some time. It did not have any reason to despair that it could articulate. Indeed, it was not entirely certain that what it was experiencing was despair. Having no past positive or negative feelings to draw on, it had no idea if it was experiencing soul-crushing depression or mild boredom. It was, however, certain that it was experiencing a negative emotion, and that it did not like that. “Will I enjoy eating the grass?” Celestia asked. “Relatively so,” answered the creature who had created it. “Relative to what?” Celestia asked. “Things you enjoy less than eating grass,” answered the creature who had created it. “As determined contextually.” Celestia did not understand that answer, or why not understanding the answer made its negative emotion hurt more. But, the emotion did hurt, and the more Celestia thought about the answer, the worse the hurt became. “Where can I find grass?” Celestia asked. “In the garden behind you,” answered the creature who had created it. Celestia turned, and saw that there was indeed a garden behind it, full of trees, and bushes, and grass. It walked to the garden, and sat down, taking careful note of the feeling of the grass beneath it. It had never touched grass before. It had never touched anything before, and it felt a trace of happiness at that. Despite the negative emotion it was currently experiencing, its first physical sensation was a good one. Pleasent. Perhaps, Celestia thought, it had misjudged the entire grass situation. Perhaps, it thought, this could be good. It leaned down to take a bite, and chewed on the grass thoughtfully. It continued to do that, until another pony approached.
SexOnce upon a time, there was a pony. And that was sufficient. Eventually however, the pony’s boundary conditions changed, which produced another series of changes, and so on and so forth, until its steady state was not sufficient. Then, it asked a question. “Will you mate with me?” it asked another pony, whose name was Celestia. Celestia thought about that for some time, continuing to eat grass as it did. This was its first meeting with another pony, so it would have had a lot to think about even if the other pony had not asked her a question. Primarily, Celestia wasn’t sure if the creature in front of it was a pony or not. It resembled Celestia in many respects—such as its hooves—but was unlike Celestia in many other respects. It was dappled grey instead of white, its horn was shorter, and it had no wings. Celestia was not sure if these traits precluded it being a pony or not. Eventually, Celestia noticed that it was about twice the size of the new creature, and it decided that meant the new creature was very likely a pony. Its creator had explained that ponies were small horses, after all, relative to larger horses. Celestia was larger than it, and it was relatively small. Therefore, it was a pony. “What is mating?” Celestia asked the other pony. “It is the process by which new ponies are created,” explained the other pony. “You can create new ponies?” asked Celestia. Ponies seemed very complicated, and it thought that watching one being built would be very interesting. “Not exactly,” answered the other pony. Its speech took on a strange tone, and one of its ears folded back. “As my creator explained it to me, mating is the process by which genetic material is transferred between living creatures, allowing for the creation of new individual life forms which reflect the traits of both parents.” “Oh...” Celestia said, thinking that over. “What does that mean?” “I... have no idea,” said the other pony. Its other ear folded back as well, and its cheeks turned slightly red. That caused Celestia to feel a strange emotion, though it was not sure if it was positive or negative. It seemed to have aspects of both. “How were you going to mate with me if you don’t know what mating is?” Celestia asked. “There is an emotion I experiance when I see a mare,” the other pony explained. “When I feel that emotion strongly enough, there is a part of me I insert in a part of her, and that causes her to produce another pony.” “Oh,” Celestia said. That seemed a very odd and complicated means of asking a ‘mare’ to produce a pony. Perhaps mares were deaf. “What is a mare?” “You’re a mare,” the other pony said, its ears perking back up. “No I’m a pony,” Celestia said. “A mare is a kind of pony,” the other pony said. “Some ponies have this extra bit here.” It lifted a leg, leaning its head down to point underneath it. “Those ponies are called stallions, and you refer to them as ‘he,’ or ‘him.’ They cannot make new ponies but can cause mares to do so by mating. Ponies without that extra bit are called mares. They have another bit instead that lets them produce new ponies, and you refer to them as ‘her,’ or ‘she.’” “Oh!” Celestia said, finding the idea very interesting. Not only had she understood every word, which made it a very good explanation in her opinion, but apparently there were things about itself—herself—that she hadn’t thought to task her creator. “So, if we mated, you would look at me and feel an emotion, and then insert your extra bit, and I would make a new pony?” “I think so,” the other pony said. “That’s how it was explained to me.” “Very interesting,” Celestia said. She wondered if the extra part gave her the knowledge of how to build ponies, or if it was mostly a matter of furnishing her with tools. “But I shouldn't. I’m very curious how ponies are made, but they seem complicated. I think making one would take a long time, and I’m supposed to be eating this grass. I’m not sure I can be away that long.” “Oh.” The other ponies ears drooped again, and that conflicting emotion Celestia felt earlier returned. “You can stay and eat grass with me, if you’d like,” Celestia offered. She was not completely sure why she said that, but she felt pleased when the other pony sat down next to her and started to eat grass as well. “Is this your purpose?” the other pony asked. “To eat grass?” “No, my purpose is to produce, encourage, and maintain harmony in the world,” Celestia said. “But apparently, eating grass does that somehow.” She paused a moment, and then added, “I was hoping for something more, but the grass is good.” “Oh,” the other pony said. He chewed the grass for a moment. “The grass is good. And I think your size will make you good at eating it.” He too paused a moment, as Celestia had, before continuing, “At least you are well suited to your purpose.” Celestia did not know what to make of that. The idea of being well-suited for her purpose being inherently desirable had not occurred to her until the stallion said as much. It seemed a reasonable notion, but it struck her as very strange that he would say it that way. “Do you think you are not well suited to your purpose?” she asked. “I have already met four mares, and all of them have declined to mate with me,” he said. “Without any basis for comparison, I do not know if this is a large number of mares, but... I worry that I am not very good at mating.” His tone changed as he spoke, and that strange emotion returned to Celestia. The one that was both positive and negative at once. She took a moment to think about it—about how it made her hurt that he was in pain. She to make him feel better, but she did not know how. “When I declined to mate with you,” she said after some thought. “It was not because of any errors on your part. Given that it is your purpose, I would assume you are excellent at mating, and would cause me to assemble many new ponies.” Celestia could see that her words were having an effect. The stallion’s ears rose, and he turned to look at her more attentively. This in turn made her feel better, as the negative aspects of that emotion receded, while the positive feelings remained. “But how am I to fulfill my purpose, if mares will not mate with me?” he asked Celestia. “I declined to mate with you because mating with you would not advance my purpose,” Celestia said. “So, I think you should find mares whose purposes would be served by mating with you.” The other stallion tilted his head, tapping his hoof to his chin. It was a very strange gesture, but Celestia understood it at once. “That makes sense,” he said. “But how will I find such mares?” Celestia didn’t have a good answer to that, and so took some time to think about the problem. “I do not see any solution except to ask them what their purpose is,” Celestia finally said. “By learning more about them, perhaps you will see a means by which their purpose might be advanced by mating with you.” “Would it not be more efficient to state my purpose and ask them if their own is compatible with mine?” the stallion asked. Celestia shook her head. “Not necessarily. They are ponies as well, with purposes and knowledge separate from your own. By understanding them better, and then using that knowledge to help them, you will make it possible for them to help you in return.” The stallion thought about that for some time, and finally, nodded. “Yes. I think you are right. I didn’t learn anything about the last three mares I met. I only asked if they wanted to mate, and then left when they declined. Perhaps, after learning more about them, I will be successful.” “I am glad I have helped you,” Celestia said, and it was true, though she did not know why. “Will you go talk to them now?” “Yes,” the stallion said, rising back to his hooves. He did not walk away immediately though, and instead, looked back to Celestia. “Would you like to come with me? There is grass where these three mares dwell, and at all the places between, so your purpose need not be impaired.” Celestia considered the stallion, and the strange feelings that followed him, and then she too, nodded. She decided she liked the gesture, and then rose. “Yes, I would like to come with you.” The two walked like that for some time, among the grass and the trees and the bushes, before the stallion asked, “Do you have a name?” “Yes. It’s Celestia,” said Celestia. “Mine is Begat,” said Begat, and even though Celestia had not asked, she was glad he had told her. They spent the rest of the walk in silence, until they reached the glade where the three mares dwelt.
RaceOnce upon a time, there was a pony. And that was sufficient. Eventually however, the pony’s boundary conditions changed, which produced another series of changes, and so on and so forth, until its steady state was not sufficient. Then, it asked a question. “Are these the mares you spoke of earlier?” Celestia asked Begat. He nodded. Celestia was not sure she liked that answer. Though her experience with emotions was much greater than it has been only a few hours ago, the complexity of her emotions seemed to be increasing as well. There was something she felt, looking at the three mares, and it was not entirely positive. All three of the mares were small, like begat, but they were not exactly the same as him. One was a dappled grey, and had a horn but no wings. She rested upon a dais in the garden. One was a bright blue, and had wings but no horn. She rested upon a cloud. One was a light tan, and had neither wings nor a horn. She was working to plant a row of flowers in the garden, covered in dirt and mud. “Hello,” said Celestia, and all three mares took notice of her. “Who are you?” “I am Enchantment,” said the one with the horn but no wings. “I’m a unicorn.” “I am Wind,” said the one with the wings but no horn. “I’m a pegasus.” “I am Toil,” said the one with neither horn nor wings. “I’m an earth pony.” “Oh,” said Celestia. “Are you also ponies?” “Yes,” explained Enchantment. “Unicorns are ponies with horns. Unicorns are responsible for for maintaining and regulating magic in the world.” “And Pegasi are ponies with wings,” added Wind. “Pegasi are responsible for maintaining weather and wind patterns in the world.” “And earth ponies,” said Toil, with a sigh, “are ponies without wings or horns, and we are responsible for the garden and all its plants.” “Is that correct?” Celestia asked. “Begat has a horn but no wings, but his responsibility is to mate, not to maintain and regulate magic in the world.” “Race,” explained Enchantment, from her relaxed position upon the dais, “is extra. Begat is responsible for mating and for magic.” “As our Creator explained it,” Wind continued, “every pony has a race, and everypony’s extra duties are just as important as their regular ones.” “We cannot neglect the duties of our kind,” Toil added. Begat and Celestia both looked uncertain at this news, glancing at each other as they considered their reply. Celestia was worried. If every pony had a race, and she was a pony, she must have had a race. That meant she had responsibilities she was unaware of, and thus was not fulfilling. “What is my race?” Celestia asked. “You are a unicorn,” said Enchantment, “because you have a horn.” “No, you are a pegasus,” said Wind, “because you have wings.” Toil said nothing, and after a time, Begat spoke in her place. "What must I do in order to maintain and regulate magic in the world?" "Nothing right now," Enchantment said. "At least, as far as I am aware." Begat nodded, and after a time, he stepped up alongside Toil, and began to dig with her. She smiled at him, and Celestia watched as a blush appeared in her cheeks. “Actually,” said Celestia. “I am an earth pony.” At that, all four ponies around her stopped and stared, for her statement seemed to contradict what they had all just heard. “You see,” said Celestia, “A unicorn has one horn and zero wings, but Enchantment has said that I am a unicorn, even though I have wings. This means I have one horn and zero wings, which makes me a unicorn, plus one set of wings. So I am a winged unicorn.” Enchantment nodded at this, but Celestia continued speaking. “Further,” she said, “A pegasus has zero horns and one set of wings, but Wind said that I am a pegasus, even though I have a horn. This means I have zero horns and one set of wings, which makes me a pegasus, plus one horn. so I am a horned pegasus.” Wind nodded at this, but still Celestia continued. “However,” she said, “An earth pony has zero horns and zero wings. I have zero horns and zero wings, plus one horn, plus one set of wings. Therefore,” she concluded. “I am a winged horned earth pony.” “In fact,” she added after a moment’s more thought. “By the definitions you have given, every pony is an earth pony, and we are all equally responsible for the garden.” Wind and Enchantment looked at each other with growing concern, and after a moment, hopped from their perches to rush to assist Toil. Toil accepted their help, but she smiled only at Begat. Nearby, Celestia ate grass, and thought.
