I lifted then. I felt my soul stretch out, reaching far beyond me, a great weight being carried with it. As it fell skyward momentum took it and my being stretched out farther. I felt them then, like tiny, pleasurably cold gems. I grabbed them, like great sheets, stretching them across the breadth of my reach. The motions were ones I had done thousands of times before, and would, I hoped, do for a thousand thousand times again. I flowed into the work, mentally, magically, and spiritually. The sky flowed forth from my will, my soul, like a river, and I was at peace. Soon though, the work came to an end, and I stepped back, opening my eyes.
The sky was on fire as the sun set, and I watched a flicker as the stars began answering my call.
“I’ve seen better.”
...
I finally turned to my sister. She was smirking. I settled on rolling my eyes. She snorted a brief laugh. I elected to not give her further satisfaction.
“So,” I said, “That’s done then...” I trailed off. She was looking at me. Innocently. “So… this project you keep whispering about?”
“I don’t know. I felt like watching the sun set. I think you did such a lovely job tonight-”
“Tia.” I rumbled.
“Oh, fine.” She stuck her tongue out at me. “Spoilsport. Patience is a virtue.”
“One I have a historical problem practicing and will continue to do so if you bait me further!”
“Hah!” Celestia turned, the doors to her chambers springing open. “Well, come on then.”
We moved into her chambers, I settled on her plush rug while she walked past, absentmindedly preparing tea while her desk came alive. As I made myself comfortable, a cup of rich tea and a sheaf of typewritten papers settled before me. Celestia settled across the table from me, a cup and a novel settling in front of her. I looked down at the papers as the tea cup rose to my lips.
“A nom de plume, sister?”
She shrugged.
“Consider it a form of honesty. If they read the novel of Princess Celestia it will create a false expectation. I will be selling them something I don’t mean to sell. They may also… well.” She smiled. “You understand.”
“I do.”
“But ‘Loving Wind’ won’t have too many problems in that regard,” she grinned. “Plus, I sort of want to see how successful it will be. Slapping my real name on it would just be cheating.”
I smiled in return.
“I understand, Sister.”
“Well, you were so anxious to read. Dig in!”
“Very well then.”
And so I started. The pages flew by. I hummed. I mumbled to myself. I smiled. I frowned. I barked laughter. I would stop at the end of each chapter, and talk with my sister of what I read:
“She seems rather…”
“Yes?”
“The words she says and the thoughts she has. She is lying to herself.”
“Glad you caught that.”
…
“Hmmm.”
“So then, finished?”
“Yes. I was rather fond of the friendship they formed in that chapter, although…”
“Yes?”
“The duchess. I worry about her. The way she feels about herself. I recognize self-loathing when I see it.”
Celestia nodded.
I laughed, my chest tightening.
“If I’m honest, she reminds me much of myself.”
Celestia smiled.
“We’ll see.”
…
I looked up.
“You’re a scoundrel, sister.”
“Hmm?”
“Metafiction is a gauche practice.”
“I am surprised you know that term.”
“I read.” I huffed.
“Heh. Admit it, sister, you love it.”
I grinned.
“I shall admit no such thing as long as I draw breath.”
“Your dedication to keeping a secret is commendable, but last I heard, repression was unhealthy. Also, does that mean you plan to admit it after you die? I thought we agreed to avoid necromancy as a general rule.”
“Bah!”
And so it went. The pages turning as the sky grew dark, and the fire of my stars came to burn across it’s canvas. Too soon, I turned the last page of the unfinished manuscript and looked up.
“So,” Celestia began as her book closed, “What do you think?”
“...I loved it.”
Celestia smiled, though strained.
“I’m glad to hear it. What did you think of the last chapter?”
“It was good?”
“Merely ‘good?’” She smiled.
“Erm… yes?”
Celestia smiled, relaxing.
“I based the rage of the Countess off of your own work, particularly the way you tell the story of the Winged Ram.”
“I see.” I said, the pages below me glowing teal as I began looking back through them.
“How is that going, by the way?”
I could see what she meant. The queen really reminded me of-
“Luna?”
“Hrm?” I snapped to attention. What had I - Ah “- It’s going well.”
“I had heard as much.” She was silent for a while. I went back to looking at the pages. I suddenly felt the mood in the room shift. “Told you so.”
I rolled my eyes, but smiled.
“I’m surprised ponies had so much interest in the old history, or listening to me.”
“You lived half those stories Luna, and wrote it in the skies so long ago it’s become hard to remember why it was written. Ponies knew these images were etched in the stars, but had no idea what they meant. There’s a thrill of discovery, and of solemnity. Its like realizing a book they favored as a child hid an entirely new meaning, and like being connected with something larger than themselves at the same time.” She smiled. “Not to mention your bombast lends itself well to our old war stories.”
I smiled.
“I suppose ‘tis true. Still, you flatter me with your imitation.”
“It’s not flattery at all Luna. Well, I guess it could be.” She smiled. “Depends on how much you care about the admiration of an old nag. It’s not just you though.” She leaned back. “All of my friends. I’ve watched their lives unfold, learned from them, through them. I carried that with me. Much like you wanted the great stories of our past sketched in the sky, so too did I want the thoughts, feelings, values, and struggles of those ponies I’ve known over my long stretch of life to live on in this story. Because I learned from them. Because I want others to learn from them. Because… well, it had meaning to me.”
“...I think I shall take that as flattery, then.”
Celestia chuckled. She turned, relaxing as she stared out the tall window.
“You really outdid yourself tonight.” She took a sip of tea, and grinned. “Which reminds me. I think I’m going to have Twilight read this soon.”
“Shall I prepare a contingent disjunction spell then?”
“Oh hush, you.”
And so we sat, chatting late into the evening as the stars burned and the world moved toward a dawn more glorious than the last.
Author's Note
I want to thank my friends who helped me write this, and all the people who read this, and gave me positive feedback. Working on these stories has been a treat. Thank you!
