1. Sunday Special
I might be watching the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, and by tomorrow I’ll probably be disgusted at myself for even thinking it.
It’s funny what makes you look back at your life. Before this year, I could never have guessed that I’d be standing beside Princess Celestia watching a sunset that’ll touch poets so deeply it’ll give ’em the trots. Since her sister came back, she’s put hours into the last sunset of every week, and I hadn’t even noticed until now.
I guess that’s me all over. You wouldn’t think a scrapper like me would fall in with a ponies like these, but I remember the day I arrived in Canterlot to try out for Luna’s groupies. Thunderer, the big guy, lines us all up and starts dishing out trivial, inane, and demeaning tasks like we were training to be lapdogs. I figured it was some loyalty test or other – find out if we were willing to put the good of the team above our individual blushes. As soon as I was knee-deep in mud I remembered that I was here because I’d punched out my supervisor for back talking me and wanted something different. I let the boss-pony have an earful right then and there. I mean, why not? If was to fail, I might as well add a personal touch to it.
They hired me on the spot. These ponies are crazy.
Turned out, they wanted a pony who would stand up for herself, even against a princess. ‘Serve in Luna’s retinue’, they said. ‘Bring justice to Equestria’, they said.
‘Babysit a princess with thousand-year-old emotional issues’ wasn’t in the brochure. Good job, too, or I might have refused.
Of course, we were just Luna’s rag-tag bunch of troublemakers back then, but now, we’re the Paladins: Luna’s more reputable bunch of troublemakers.
I… this really is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. It’s like… like one of those expensive cocktails that’s layered in five different colours, only I get to stare into it while it’s warming the back of my throat. And my belly. And the backs of my eyes. This thing is…
So, Paladins. Who’d have thought that? It sounds so officious and noble until you’ve seen us trying to play charades after Luna stacked the deck with such marvels as ‘My hooves smell like dead fish’ and ‘Spank me like you mean it’.
And then there was that time we had to introduce the ‘no shapeshifting’ rule during wrestling. The others have formal training, so it was tough going. Luna probably worried that I was feeling picked on, so she joined in; she can be such a sap when she isn’t pretending not to be, and she didn’t get that I enjoy the challenge, either. She’s also not half as strong or clever as she thinks she is, and promptly lost to all but Vanilla, but I reckon he let her win.
Next thing you know she’s a giant black bear and pinning all of the boys to the ground, only it’s not so much wrestling and just sitting. Luckily it also turns out that Luna’s ticklish.
Never again – that’s best for everypony involved.
Paladins: a bunch of degenerates whose sole function is to never take Luna too seriously. Well, yeah, there is that thing about carrying the authority of the Princess wherever we go, but it’s not like we’d ever abuse that... much.
Good bunch of lads, but me? How’d I get to be standing here on Celestia’s balcony watching more shades of red, orange, and purple than I can name spread through the heavens like an oil painting that just can’t quite settle on exactly what perfection is?
Wow. I didn’t even know I could think like that. It seems I’m in good company, though: Celestia is getting a bit weepy herself. No chance of anyone catching me doing that.
She’s an odd one though, Celestia. At first, she was disappointing. To regular ponies, she’s as much myth as flesh-and-blood creature, but she can be a bit twee, if you’re not the kind of pony into hugs, bubblebaths, and talking about… feelings. She’s got a hard edge when she needs it, sure, but it’s not like she’d ever threaten anypony over the last slice of Battenberg. Not like Luna. Luna plays hardball most of the time, and sometimes she gets it wrong – she’s one of us. Truth is, Celestia just has patience. I am never going to forget that time we tried the old ‘magic bubblebath’ gag, and for at least thirty seconds, we thought we’d poisoned the whole wing.
I panicked like a little filly when everypony started coughing and gaging, but the look of relief on Vanilla’s face when Celestia’s staff finally quit playing dead and burst into laughter was priceless.
She’s not a prankster; she’s a counter-prankster. And she should definitely come with a warning label. Or a restraining order.
Sadly, her copper-tops have less imagination. Four guards, three reels of duct tape, and a flag pole: anyone can do that math. Totally worth it, though.
Yeah. Worth it. Worth it all, to be here now. Shoulder to shoulder with Miss Squeaky Clean, as...
By all the old gods, the moon is coming up at the same time. I don’t believe it. The sun’s not even halfway behind the horizon and the moon is creeping up to greet it. The light’s fading fast. The sun’s corona… like an aurora of dying flames reaching around the moon and—
Wait. When did I start using words like aurora? And why am I thinking about how good Celestia looks in this light? This sunset is messing with my brain!
La la la la la la. Think of something else. Think of something else.
Oh. Heh. Silverlight, you teacher of words that I will never admit to knowing. I remember discovering that you have the biggest crush on Twilight Sparkle. I snuck into your room and painted one whole wall as a mural to your beloved doe-eyed mistress while Vindicator and Glory dressed up as you and her to play at making out before your eyes, ice-cream cones taped to their heads and everything. Ha! Glory sucked that cone off like it was—
Nononono… Not thinking about that! Also not thinking about the things I could do to that guy watching from his roof – or what he could do to me. No! Not thinking about that! If I can just get through this without crying, my image will be intact...
Finally it’s gone dark. The last hint of soft, warming reds fade into a deepening purple as the last of the sun’s rays vanish and the moon picks up its pace. Almost immediately, I feel the first chill of night rustling my mane, and I look up to check on Celestia. Glazed eyes, tear-stains, distant wisp of a smile: you can tell she’s thinking about Luna. That’s how it works in these parts.
She doesn’t show it much, but it’s nice to see. They’re not quite as chummy as some ponies think, but now and again, it’s clear just how deeply connected to they are. If Luna could see this—
Ahh, crap. Luna.
On cue, the doors to the balcony burst open with enough concussive force to send them flying off into the streets below were it not for Luna’s magical grip.
The Princess of the Night surges forwards, dressed in a shirt with ‘I WRESTLE BEARS’ emblazoned on the front, raises herself up on her hind legs, points an unshod hoof at her sister, and proclaims, “On your face, Celelstia!”
Oh yeah. Princess Luna is an idiot.
“In your face,” I say, not restraining my irritation. “You throw something in another pony’s face. We practiced this for half an hour!”
Honestly, you can’t give them so much as an inch.
“Ahh. We appear to have ruined the moment. Your modern colloquialisms are most troublesome.” Luna frowns hard, and makes what I can only describe as ‘duckface’.
I have no idea what that’s about.
“Go out and do it again, and do it right this time.”
"Yes. Of course. One moment please.”
She steps back, and the moment the doors slam shut, I look up at Celestia. Her mouth is hanging slightly open – now that’s truly rare.
“Could I have a bucket of water, please?”
I’m not sure if she’s genuinely stunned, or three leagues ahead of me as usual, but the bucket appears out of thin air while she’s looking back at the doors in anticipation of their imminent re-explosion.
Boom!
“In your—”
And I unload the bucket of water, right in the kisser.
“Face,” I finish for her. “I have a thing and throw it in another pony’s face. Is that clear now?”
“Quite,” says Luna, dripping water onto the already drenched ground. Where her wetted mane now hangs heavily from her neck, a similarly damp animal now stands on its tiny back legs and shakes the water off itself.
“Ahh. I see you brought one of the accounting weasels. Nice touch.”
Luna smiles. She really has got the hang of keeping her composure.
“Thank you, Artemis. Now, if you’re quite finished, I would like to gloat at my sister.”
I shrink into a corner. I know when I’m at the limit of being indulged.
“Have we, or have we not, sister, bested thee as we proclaimed that we would? Was that not the most astounding sunset ever beheld by our beloved subjects?”
There’s a short pause – somewhat underlined by continued dripping and a tiny sneeze from Luna’s head-mounted weasel.
“Luna…”
Celestia’s actually stunned. Go Team Luna!
“Sister… How? How did you do that? In all my years, I have never seen such a thing. It was incredible, you… were amazing.”
“Huzzah! You hear that Cecil?” The weasel squeaked, then sneezed. “We are the victor! Cecil will facilitate your payment of our wager at your earliest convenience. Now, if you will excuse us. Artemis?”
“Yes, Drippy?”
“Run.”
And with that, I leap off the balcony. She’s in a good mood, so I reckon I’ll get a good thirty-second head start.
I am Paladin Artemis.
Some days I fight crime.
Most days, this is my crazy life.
