A talk between princesses
Nopony would question that Princess Celestia was anything but a very dutiful ruler. Managing an expansive, continent-wide kingdom took effort, to say nothing of her less secular tasks, such as raising the massive, life-giving mass of incandescent gas currently shining down on her beloved subjects. Thankfully, these days she had her sister to shoulder a part of the burden, along with her own sky-orb – a fact that Celestia was very happy about, as the moon had never been very agreeable with her – along with her ever dedicated former student, Twilight Sparkle. And Cadence, of course, mustn't forget her.
So now and then she enjoyed a little break, a moment of peace away from chores and duties. Usually involving tea and cake. Or coffee and cake. Or some refreshing fruit juice and cake. Or a chilled white wine and cake. She would be the first to admit she had a sweet tooth, but in the grand scheme of things, there were worse things for a grand ruler to indulge in.
She was contemplating the grandeur of her sun (though some days she considered their relationship to be more in terms of her being its pony rather than the other way around) in the company of a pot of black tea and an absolutely delicious blueberry cake, when there was a burst of magic and displaced air before her and her student-turned-princess Twilight Sparkle appeared.
“Celestia, we need to talk,” Twilight said simply. She was frowning.
Celestia stifled a sigh. Rarely did anything good come from that phrase. It usually meant whoever said it had bad news, or criticism, or a scolding for some misdeed. “Of course, Twilight,” she said, taking care to address Twilight as an equal. The young alicorn sometimes forgot herself. “What’s on your mind?”
“I’ve been thinking…” Twilight began, before trailing off hesitantly.
“You usually do,” Celestia joked. “I would say it’s one of your most regular pastimes.”
If the attempt at levity improved Twilight’s mood, she did not show it. “I mean, I’ve been thinking about… about the past. About when I moved to Ponyville… when you sent me there. The festival, Nightmare Moon, everything. And… and it seems so convenient.”
“Convenient?” Celestia asked. She took a sip from her tea cup as Twilight continued.
“You sent me there on the very same day Nightmare Moon returned,” Twilight clarified. “You said I needed to make friends, when those same friends were just right for stopping her. You trained me as your own student of magic, and I turned out to be the Element of Magic! And then there was that thing with the Crystal Empire, and the unfinished spell, and, and… it all seems so planned, like…”
“…Like as though I had planned it all?” Celestia suggested. “Masterminded everything down to every little detail?”
Twilight stared at her mentor with wide eyes. “You mean, you… I…”
“I’m not surprised to see you reach this conclusion, Twilight. I did train you to be analytical, and the analytical mind seeks patterns. Even when those patterns don’t truly exist.” She gestured to the spare seat across the table from her. Her horn glowed golden and a second tea cup appeared. “Sit down and have some tea, dear. This could take a while.”
Celestia remained silent as her friend and fellow alicorn sat and helped herself to some refreshments. She noted with some relief that the familiar routine of teacher and student seemed to calm the girl down. “Okay, Twilight,” she continued eventually. “Tell me. What do you know about the Elements of Harmony?”
Twilight looked understandably surprised by the sudden inquiry, but that didn’t stop her from falling back on old behavior. “Well, there are six of them – Generosity, Honesty, Kindness, Laughter, Loyalty and Magic – they need to be used by ponies exemplifying those qualities, they can purge and defeat some of the greatest evils and forms of disharmony… um… they came from the Tree of Harmony…” Twilight bit her lip nervously. “That’s, um, pretty much everything I know for certain. Even the reference guide didn’t have anything else concrete, just lots of hypothesizing and guesses, such as how they were forged in the Fire of Friendship by Starswirl the Bearded, and stuff like that.” She looked severely disappointed at what she perceived to be a very lackluster answer. “I’m sorry. I never got around to really study them before we had to return them to the tree.”
“That’s quite all right,” Celestia said consolingly. “You’ve pretty much summed up everything we’ve ever known about the Elements. I’d go so far as to say that you’re Equestria’s foremost expert on the subject, sparse as it is. I certainly didn’t make an effort to study them much. Which, in retrospect, was a mistake on my part.”
“What do you mean?” Twilight asked. From her wary demeanor, it was clear that her initial concern still weighed on her mind, but she was nonetheless curious about any topic Celestia could educate her on.
“Back when Luna and I first plucked the Elements from the tree, we didn’t think much on what they were,” Celestia explained. “We needed something that could stop Discord, and our hasty studies suggested that the Elements were the tools for the job. That’s what we thought of them: Tools. Weapons, even. Something you pick up, point in the right direction, and use. We didn’t think they were so much more. We didn’t know they were… aware.”
Surprised, Twilight sprayed tea across the table. “The Elements are sapient?” She blushed in embarrassment and tried to mop up the mess with a napkin.
Celestia politely ignored the accident. “Probably not in the way you think. Not like a pony, or even a simple animal. But there is something there, I think. After all, they… resonate, you could say, with certain qualities. Honesty, Loyalty and so on. Though I don’t know for certain.”
“Yes, yes, that makes sense,” Twilight agreed. “After all… yes, they would have to…” Her eyes grew distant as she began to consider the ramifications of this new idea.
“Not that we considered that at the time,” Celestia continued. “Again, they were just tools to be used by Luna and me. It may have been simple plain luck that we took the ones that resonated with us – I don’t even remember which ones I carried. Or maybe the Elements were aware of what we needed them for, and relaxed the requirements a little. Given their inherent nature, they probably wanted to put a stop to Discord as much as we did.”
“So they helped you along, since your wishes and theirs coincided?” Twilight suggested.
“Quite,” Celestia said. She busied herself with another slice of cake, before continuing almost reluctantly. “The same… could not be said of when I had to deal with Luna.” She shook her head. “Isn’t it fascinating that none of the virtues the Elements represent can exist in a vacuum? You can’t be kind without being kind to somepony. Loyalty is nothing without somepony to be loyal to. And so on.”
“Interesting…” Twilight mused. “So…”
“So when I stood against Luna—” Celestia began.
“Nightmare Moon,” Twilight interrupted. “You fought Nightmare Moon, not Luna.” She sounded very determined to make the distinction.
Celestia smiled softly. “Thank you, Twilight. But it’s important to remember, regardless of how I feel about it, that Nightmare Moon was Luna. Because that was how the Elements saw it, I think. On that night, I took up the Elements of Harmony against my own sister. Besides the fact that three of them were hers by right, what I tried to do to her was an affront to everything the Elements stood for…”
“But you tried to save her!” Twilight protested.
“Perhaps, but I also tried to fight her,” Celestia said gloomily. “It was an act of cruelty and betrayal, dishonesty and disloyalty, and much more. And the Elements disagreed with my decision, and betrayed me in turn.”
Twilight stared at her. “What do you mean?”
“My bond to them was broken,” Celestia said. “They rejected me, permanently. Sealed themselves in stone to keep me from touching them again. And the harmony, which I had hoped to purge Nightmare Moon with, failed. Perhaps it was simple spell failure, a spell going off by half or somesuch. Or perhaps the Elements were spiteful and wanted to punish me by taking away what was closest to my heart. Either way, instead of returning my sister, she was banished to the moon.”
Twilight didn’t know what to say as her mentor and friend hung her head sadly, the memory of the event hurting all over again. “Um… well… at least it’s all better now, right? Luna is back and you’ve forgiven each other, so…”
“Yes, thank you, you’re quite right,” Celestia said, perking up considerably. She wiped away a few errant tears from the corners of her eyes. “But only because you and your friends used the Elements properly.”
“Yeah…” Twilight frowned suddenly. “But you knew we would. I remember, you said ‘I knew you could do it’. You planned it…” She stared accusingly at Celestia. She had been distracted for a moment by the history lesson, but she was here for another reason.
Celestia sighed and shook her head, a slight smile on the corners of her mouth. “Not quite. I certainly had faith in your ability to complete the task once you had taken it upon yourself, but I did not actually assign that task to you. You did that on your own, as is your nature.” She tapped her hoof against the table thoughtfully. “Perhaps I should point out that I am neither omnipotent nor omniscient. A lot of ponies seem to have gotten that idea for some reason…”
“You do raise the sun every morning,” Twilight pointed out, sounding as though she explained something to a child. “That’s actually not very easy at all. I should know, because I had to do it once.”
“Yes, but I do have a cutie mark for it,” Celestia said, patting her flank like a filly showing it off for the first time. “Everything’s so much easier when it falls within the purview of your own special talent. That doesn’t mean I can do everything, nor does it mean I see and know everything. Oh, sure, I’ve had centuries upon centuries to hone my admittedly considerable magic, and I’ve had the same time to gather experience and knowledge in order to develop a certain degree of wisdom. But I’m not perfect. I fail now and then. I didn’t expect Discord to fall victim to Tirek’s temptation; I overlooked the infiltration of the changelings, and disregarded your suspicions in a truly unforgivable way; and I failed to understand how the Elements would react when I used them against my sister…”
“But… but if you knew there was a chance you’d fail, why didn’t you make plans for that?” Twilight said. She was starting to feel a little unsteady now. The idea that everything had just been part of a larger scheme had just made so much sense. “Contingency plans! Expect the unexpected! Are you saying you just let things to chance?”
“Twilight, you can’t plan for everything,” Celestia said, shaking her head softly. “Nopony has a brain big enough for that. Not even you or I. And the more you focus on the details, the less you look at the big picture. And then you blind yourself to the random factors that risk changing everything. No, I’ve found that it’s generally a better idea to make a few rough sketches and make adjustments on the fly, as it were.”
“That sounds like something Rarity would say,” Twilight pointed out.
“Is that so?” Celestia said. She took a deep sip from her tea cup before continuing. “At any rate, as I said I’m not all-knowing. But I knew a few things. For one, the spell sealing Nightmare Moon away would not last forever. According to my calculations, she would be able to break free during a very precise astronomical confluence, after a thousand years of gathering her power.”
“Right, the position of the stars would aid in weakening the structure of the spell enough to break it apart,” Twilight said, recognizing the concept. “As the old story said, The stars will aid in her escape.”
“I thought it sounded rather poetic,” Celestia agreed. “Furthermore, she would return within range of the site of her defeat – the castle in the Everfree Forest. And finally, only the Elements of Harmony could defeat her properly, and only when borne by true bearers.”
“And the Elements were the only option?” Twilight asked. “I mean, you’re still very powerful, and maybe with the right assistance…”
“Against my sister, who is my equal?” Celestia asked. “During the night, when the moon was giving her its full support, whereas my sun was kept well out of my reach? To say nothing of what the Nightmare might have supplied her with. No, not likely unless I got very, very lucky. And even then, my only choice would have been to strike a killing blow…”
“Oh,” Twilight said in a small voice. “You… wouldn’t have wanted to do that, I suppose.”
“Not against my sister, or any other living, feeling creature, unless there was absolutely necessary,” Celestia said. “Honestly, I don’t think I could have brought myself to do that even if it had been necessary. This was my sister. Could you slay Shining Armor? Or one of your friends? If you thought you had to?”
“I… well… no, I don’t think I could,” Twilight admitted. “Not when push comes to shove, I think. I mean, it’s easy to think you’d be able to, when you consider it intellectually, but…”
“Don’t let it get to you,” Celestia consoled. “It takes a certain kind of heart to willingly end a life. I don’t think you could ever have that heart.” She cleared her throat. “At any rate… I knew the place, and I knew the time. And I hoped that if a group of sufficiently compatible ponies could confront Nightmare Moon with the Elements, they might be able to succeed where I failed. I’ll admit, I was putting some hope to the idea that the Elements were amenable to it as well – that they wanted to bring harmony to Luna and restore her, saving Equestria from the neverending night in the process. As long as I kept my sullied hooves well away from everything, they probably wouldn’t object.”
“You really think the Elements would have ruined things just to spite you?” Twilight asked doubtfully.
“Who knows? I wasn’t taking any chances.” Celestia gazed thoughtfully at the sky, where the sun had climbed higher. “Of course, neither was I taking the chance that six compatible ponies would just happen to blunder into a dangerous forest and just save the day on their own accord. So I decided to improve the odds a bit by ensuring that there were ponies on hoof already.”
“So you did prepare my friends and me?” Twilight asked, bringing up her initial accusation.
“No,” Celestia said, shaking her head. “Not as such, no. Oh, I considered a plan along those lines at one point, yes. I toyed with the idea of training a special group of ponies, possibly a military company, to operate under the concepts we knew the Elements as. But I discarded it when I realized how fake it would feel. The Element of Kindness wouldn’t take a bearer who was ordered to be kind, only a pony who was kind from the bottom of their heart. If I were to micromanage things, it would just go wrong. It had to happen naturally. So instead I allowed Ponyville to be founded.”
“To… get element bearers from?” Twilight asked skeptically.
“In a way, yes,” Celestia explained. “It was a bit of a stroke of luck, really. When those ponies came to me and asked for a piece of land… I could see it in their eyes. Fire. Determination. Indomitable spirit. I offered them the land by the Everfree Forest, and I told them of the dangers in there. They promised me that they were more than enough to deal with anything the Everfree could throw at them. When I heard about the Zap Apple harvest, how that sweet Smith filly had challenged the timberwolves for those seeds, I knew I had made the right choice.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard about those, they’re really…” Twilight blinked. “Wait, ‘sweet Smith filly’? Granny Smith? She… how old is she? I thought this was centuries ago?”
“That’s really not important, Twilight,” Celestia said pointedly. “Anyway, it was my hypothesis that the Elements expected a certain spirit from their bearers. They had accepted Luna and me when we were the only ponies driven to brave the dangers and confront Discord. They wanted determined, motivated ponies. Freethinkers, radicals. Ponies who didn’t shy away from a challenge. So I encouraged ponies with that kind of attitude to move there. It wasn’t difficult – once the first ones got settled in, word got out and like-minded souls followed.”
“So it’s your fault everypony in that town is crazy,” Twilight muttered.
“Hah, yes, I suppose,” Celestia laughed. “But haven’t you wondered why Pinkie Pie feels so comfortable there, where everypony is her friend? Why Rainbow Dash has taken to it so well? Why Rarity finds such inspiration there?”
“So, what, all of Ponyville is a plantation for potential element bearers? Everypony could have taken up an Element?” Twilight asked.
“Possibly,” Celestia said. She shrugged. “I have no idea for certain. All I could hope for was that at least some of them would have the determination to fight back when Nightmare Moon returned. Like you and your friends did.”
“Yes… my friends and I,” Twilight repeated. She bit her lip nervously. “So you at least admit you trained me for the role?”
“Twilight.” Celestia sighed deeply. “Twilight, Twilight, my dear precious Twilight. You are a very special pony, in so many ways. But… no. I did not train you because I knew you would be the lynchpin in my elaborate scheme. I trained you because you were an exceptionally gifted filly who held promise of going very, very far. Not to mention a filly in dire need to training to control her exceptional magic. You even hatched a dragon’s egg, Twilight!”
“Yes?” Twilight asked. “So? It was the entrance exam, after all. I was supposed to hatch it, wasn’t I?”
“Ha ha ha,” Celestia chuckled. That knowing grin played on her lips again. “Actually, no, you weren’t. That wasn’t the real purpose of the test. Tell me, Twilight, how many baby dragons live in Canterlot? Not counting Spike?”
“None, as far as I know,” Twilight replied, a little confused.
“And how many students attend my school?” Celestia continued.
“Well, during my last year the roll was… oh. Oooh.” Twilight’s eyes lit up with realization. “Why didn’t I ever think of that? If that was the actual test…”
“Indeed,” Celestia said. “If that had been the actual entry exam that every student would have to succeed on, we’d have a lot more dragons, or a lot fewer students. No, the real purpose of the dragon egg was to test the student’s way of coping with failure in the face of an impossible challenge. Anger, resignation, doing their best, blaming others – how would a young unicorn respond when they fail? It says a lot about their character. Twilight Sparkle’s response was to do the impossible. How did that not mark you as truly exceptional?”
“I had no idea… I…” Twilight blushed deep red. “I know I was powerful, but… besides, that was because of the Sonic Rainboom.”
“Yes, you told me about it,” Celestia said. “Another intriguing thing that only reinforced my belief that you are destined for great things. But I didn’t know about it at the time. After all, I had a little filly in serious magical trouble to help – I wasn’t in a position to contemplate mysterious rainbow phenomena. Regardless, you quickly proved that my assessment of you was correct and grew into an outstanding student. Unfortunately, your habit of shutting yourself off from others bothered me. I was actually considering sending you to Ponyville for a while, hoping that the town’s unconventional attitude and friendly nature would help you open up at least a little, but I never got around to it until the Summer Sun Celebration. I’m sorry, but the thought that you could have been an element bearer never crossed my mind.”
“Oh,” Twilight mumbled, feeling disappointed. “I guess I was a little… well…”
“Don’t worry about it,” Celestia reassured her. “You still had growing to do, and you’ve grown splendidly.” She smiled. “Not that I didn’t try to make use of you in another way, mind. You see, even if there had been some ponies trying to fight back, they wouldn’t have been able to do anything at all if they didn’t know where to go. I had planted a few books on the subject around town – in the mayor’s office, and in the library – so the subject wouldn’t be a complete surprise, but I thought it would help if I sent somepony to guide them in a more direct fashion. Then you wrote to me and revealed that you knew of the prophecy, and I realized I had the perfect pony for the job.”
“But you told me not to bother with it!” Twilight protested.
“Yes, I did,” Celestia replied with a knowing, almost smug grin. “I knew you quite well, after all. If I dismissed something you considered to be a serious concern, you’d do everything in your power to prove that you were right. You’d never let it leave your mind, and when Nightmare Moon appeared, you’d know just what to do. You’d be able to tell the others what needed to be done. If this meant you’d gain the appreciation of others and get more comfortable with them, so much better.” She grinned. “And again you exceeded my expectations. Instead of just pointing them in the right direction, you spearheaded the group and took control, and proved yourself worthy of the Element of Magic. I was so…” Tears glittered in the royal alicorn’s eyes. “...So very proud of you.”
“Wow,” Twilight mumbled. She sank back in her seat for a moment in quiet contemplation. “So… it was all a gamble. You didn’t have a plan, just… just a hooffull of tricks?”
“Yes. Admittedly, I hedged my bets as much as possible and did everything I could to improve my odds, if we’re to continue the metaphor,” Celestia said. “But as I said, I couldn’t risk getting involved directly. All I could do was to put all the important pieces in place and hope things would work out. A lot of it hinged on the idea that the Elements would want to play along as well.”
“Huh,” Twilight muttered. She looked up. “Actually, I did wonder why you had just left them in the Everfree Forest. You knew they were priceless artifacts, after all. Why not keep them in Canterlot until they were needed?”
Celestia shrugged. “Disregarding the fact that they wanted nothing to do with me and I wanted nothing to do with them after they banished my sister… it was the safest place to keep them.”
“What, moldering away in a forgotten castle?” Twilight asked.
“Yes, of course,” Celestia replied. “Nopony would think of looking for five ugly lumps of rock lying around some ruined castle in the middle of the most dangerous forests in Equestria. Well, perhaps that meddlesome Daring Do, but I convinced her to leave them be. ‘They belong in a museum,’ hah. Could you imagine that? Putting them on full display, letting everypony know of their importance… I would’ve had to wade through a sea of red tape to get them back to where they’d need to be in time. Even locking them in a vault would have been risky. The last artifact I had that I made a big show of got stolen and vanished for centuries.”
“Really? What artifact was that?” Twilight asked.
“The Alicorn Amulet. Remember that little thing?” Celestia said. “If you see that troublesome unicorn friend of yours again, tell her I’m actually glad she managed to dig it out from wherever it had gotten to. This time I’m keeping it locked up tightly, let’s see if it helps…”
“Uh, yes, I’ll remember to do that if I see her, yes,” Twilight said. She sighed. “I’m not sure how to feel now, honestly. I thought you had a plan for everything, but…”
“It is comforting to believe that those in charge have everything taken care of, yes,” Celestia said. “But as a pony who is very often ‘in charge’, you should know that you can’t expect everything to go all according to plan every time. Sometimes you just have to put your faith in the ponies involved and hope things work out anyway.”
“Yes, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it,” Twilight muttered. She much preferred when her carefully laid out plans worked out from the start. “So… was it the same thing with that ‘test’ you put before me with the Crystal Empire and Sombra? Even if I failed, you hoped things would just work out anyway?”
“Ah, yes, the ‘test’,” Celestia said with a chuckle. “Oh my, Luna was so mad with me that day for pulling that, did you notice?”
“Well, yes! I was too!” Twilight replied angrily. “The crystal ponies’ lives were on the line, and you tell me I have to do it all alone? Seriously? Did you honestly think…”
“Oh, Twilight, you’re really too adorable,” Celestia mused.
“...What?” Twilight asked in surprise. She didn’t expect that reply.
“First…” Celestia fell silent as she realized that her tea had grown cold, and heated it up again with her magic. “First, I had every conviction that you would do everything in your power to succeed, no matter what. After all, it’s what you always do. Every time. I set up expectations, and you exceed them. Second, the ‘test’ wasn’t to see if you could do it alone. Not really.”
“It wasn’t?” Twilight asked. “Then… it was another ‘dragon egg’?”
“You could see it as that, I suppose,” Celestia said amicably. “Really, now. Practically every success in your career has had friendship as its basis, Twilight. Every time you’ve learned the importance of relying on others, standing up for others, drawing on the strength of others and helping others, and suddenly I ask you to work alone? That doesn’t strike you as the slightest bit incongruous?”
“Well, now that you put it in those terms…” Twilight admitted, embarrassed. As usual, she didn’t enjoy missing things that seemed, in retrospect, blatantly obvious.
“What I wanted to know was how willing you were to go against my instruction if you thought another action would be necessary,” Celestia continued. “I wanted to see if you were able to deliberately fail a test – and risk disappointing me – if it was necessary to help others. I wanted to see, simply put, if you’d put their needs above mine. And that test, you passed with flying colors.” She chuckled a little. “If it’s any consolation, I had complete faith in you. After all, I think I know you fairly well. I wouldn’t have put you up to it if I ever thought you’d doom the crystal ponies over stubborn pride.”
Twilight again stared at her mentor in bafflement. “But… why? What was the point? If you knew I’d succeed, why even make a test of it to begin with?”
“I was planning on making you a princess, Twilight. Remember?” Celestia pointed out. “It wasn’t some spur-of-the-moment thing I came up with once you completed Starswirl’s spell. It was something I had considered for quite a while. From the moment we met, I had known that you had a special destiny, but up until a certain point, I expected it to be that of a scholar, or a hero, or whatever you chose. But you showed such promise, so many admirable qualities, I soon realized you could possibly be worthy of joining me, Luna and Cadence as a princess. Not that it’d keep you from realizing your full destiny in any way. Nopony would question your qualities as a hero, after all.” She regarded Twilight thoughtfully; the latter had fallen completely silent. “But I needed to be sure. And that test was essential. In a way, it was a lesson.”
“To teach me what?” Twilight asked hesitantly.
“To teach you to think for yourself,” Celestia said. “If you were going to be a princess, you would have to stand on your own hooves. I wasn’t going to make you some kind of secondary princess, standing beneath me and being subservient. That sort of thing has always bothered me with our subjects, anyway. And you’ve always been somewhat obsequious towards me, despite everything I’ve tried. An unfortunate side effect of our teacher-student relationship, I suppose.”
“I didn’t think it was that bad…” Twilight sighed. “But you can’t fault me for looking up to you, can you?”
“Of course not,” Celestia said. “Given our past, it’s to be expected. Hence why you felt so hurt when you thought I had manipulated you all your life.” She frowned. “Of course, I have manipulated you on occasion, as I’ve just said. It’s something you have to do sometimes, whether or not you’re a princess. The important thing is to ensure it’s for the best of everypony.”
“Being a princess isn’t easy, it seems,” Twilight muttered.
“No, it’s not,” Celestia replied with a shrug. “At least you have us to help you along. Me, I had to figure it out as I went along, alone. You do what you think is best, fix things when they go wrong, learn from your mistakes and try not to repeat them – and if, at the end of the day, things are still holding up, you’re doing well.”
“I suppose,” Twilight said. She looked her mentor – no, her fellow princess – straight in the eye. “I’ll still try to plan ahead as much as I can, though.”
Celestia nodded. “If that’s how you want to do it, then go ahead. Perhaps for you, it’ll work out. After all, I have complete faith in you. Just be prepared in case something goes wrong anyway. After all, you do live in Ponyville.”
Twilight sighed and cradled her head in her hooves. “Believe me, I know. There’s no way we can undo all the craziness, is there? I mean, since we don’t really need it anymore?”
“I doubt it,” Celestia said. She grinned impishly. “But it’s more fun that way, isn’t it?”
