The fabulous Adventures of Crepuscular Effulgence, (future) Princess of Brainship

by Calipony

Rating: teen
Tags: Random, Other, Original Character, Comedy
Length: 1825

The ludicrous mishaps of Crepuscular Effulgence, the yet-to-be-crowned princess of brainship, exiled in Ponyville by her mentor Princess Lightbulb

These are the adventures of Crepuscular Effulgence and of her baby dragon Spick-and-Span, sent to Ponyville by their mentor, the beloved Princess Lightbulb.

Published 2015-08-10 14:00:01 UTC
Last updated 2015-08-10 14:00:01 UTC

Introduction (aka Stereopony or The original Sin)

Once upon a time, in a galaxy far far away,in the magical land of Hippocampus…

Crepuscular Effulgence tore the letter apart, until it was no more than a heap of tiny confetti that she let fall on to the ground like scattered flakes of snow. That was the last straw: all those years she had tried to make her point clear, again and again, obviously to no avail. And now she had enough of that gushy patronising. I am the official aspirant princess of brainship, she thought. So buzz off to Archeon with your ‘my faithful student’.

She gnashed her teeth and stomped her hooves. She would put an end to this, once and for all.

“SPICK!” she boomed, so loud that the walls of the house trembled. Far away resounded the rattle of various objects crashing on to the floor. Dang! she thought, I wish my parents were richer. This two-storey shanty is really crappy. The glued seal must have broken once more. Those plastic walls imported from the Far East are cheap, in every sense. And those plywood shelves from Eek ’n Ah aren’t better.

She was interrupted in her reflections as Spick-and-Span, the young dragon that had been hired by Crepuscular Effulgence to look after the housework – but not only – came rushing in.

“Yes… your… brainl… your brainness?” he panted.

“I want the book in cell #2-23-3-A-2. Right away!”

“2-23-3-A-2?” Spick repeated in disbelief. “But the shelf just crum–”

“I WANT IT NOW!”

Spick bobbed, whirled and scuttled off the throne room. Squeaks could be heard as the baby dragon rushed upstairs, followed by a spate of muffled, but unmistakable, thumps of books being thrown around carelessly. Eventually, Spick reappeared carrying a large, heavy green book, whose spine was engraved with weird glyphs. He placed the book on Crepuscular Effulgence’s desk, then stood motionless in expectation.

“What are you waiting for?” Crepuscular Effulgence grumbled. ”Minute has invited you for a snack, hasn’t she? There will be your friend Fire Hose and her mother Skin Flint. Scoot off, Minute doesn’t like tardy guests.”

“What?” Spick replied. “Minute? Fire Hose? A snack? What –”

“SHOVE OFF AND LEAVE ME ALONE HALF AN HOUR, WOULD YOU?!” Crepuscular Effulgence barked. She grabbed the baby dragon in her magic and flew him off through the open front door, that she slammed shut.

Good riddance! she thought. Now on to serious business. She contemplated a brief instant the cover of the book. It’s a chance I didn’t teach Spick Changeling. “The fifteen most effective ways to kill Princess Lightbulb, by Queen Pupa”… He would have been horrified.

She cleared her mind of those parasitic thoughts, turned the cover and began to read.

“A present? For me?” Princess Lightbulb exclaimed. Her purple eyes widened in surprise, quickly followed by a large beam all over her benevolent face. “Oh, that’s so sweet, my precious pupil!” She grabbed the big pink box, wrapped with a golden ribbon that ended in a large bow on the lid.

Crepuscular Effulgence flinched, ever-so-slightly. “Come on, open it!” she said.

But instead of untying the knot, Princess Lightbulb shook the box, as if to probe its contents: it made no perceptible sound.

“It’s funny,” Princess Lightbulb said, “it seems empty”. She placed the box on to her regal desk, untied the bow, and removed the lid; she stooped over until her face disappeared inside. “But it’s really empty!” giggled her muffled voice from within. She lifted her head back up. “What a hilarious trick, my dearest student!”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” protested Crepuscular Effulgence earnestly. “Of course it’s not empty. Look closer.”

“Eh?” Princess Lightbulb ducked her head into the box once more; this time even her long horn disappeared inside. “I still don’t see anything!” she said.

“Just a moment!” Crepuscular Effulgence answered. She muttered a monosyllabic grunt. A glaring crescent of pure energy materialised right over Princess Lightbulb. It swooshed through the air in a large sweep that sliced the neck of the white alicorn clean, then vanished. The head fell on to the bottom of box. The rest of the body tottered for a second, then collapsed on to the floor with a thump; the fluorescent multicolored mane slowly stopped waving and lost its garish colours.

Crepuscular Effulgence could not stand this grisly spectacle. She averted her eyes and lumbered, like a drunkard, towards the door, her eyes glassy, her mind void.

She was about to seize the handle when she heard – Sweet filament! That can’t be! – a soft whinny behind her? She froze, dumbstruck.

“Shucks!” giggled the… mellow voice of Princess Lightbulb? “My dearest student…”

“I’d say my precious pupil!” added the same voice but… coming from another location?!, Crepuscular Effulgence realised with horror. Incredulous, she whirled around; her jaw dropped.

In a large puddle of blood stood Princess Lightbulb, unscathed, beaming; ten feet away, half inside the box, half outside, stood… another Princess Lightbulb!

“If you had some problems with me…” the first Princess Lightbulb began, “…then you should have told me,” the second finished. Both laughed.

Crepuscular Effulgence facehoofed. Oh no, she thought, now I will have to listen to her in stereo!

“But how?… how?” she stuttered.

“My dearest…” began the first Princess Lightbulb. She broke off, hesitated, “I mean, my dear Princess Crepuscular Effulgence —”

”Incidentally, I wonder who gave you such a ridiculous name,” cut in the second Princess Lightbulb. She smirked.

“Do you think ‘Princess Lightbulb’ sounds more regal?” Crepuscular Effulgence rejoined snappishly.

Both Princesses Lightbulb glared at the periwinkle unicorn. There was a hush fraught with palpable tension. But after a few dragging seconds, the white alicorns smiled. “Okay,” said the first one, ”that’s a draw. But really, you should know that you are not the first student to try to kill me. Matter of fact every student of mine has tried!”

“What?!” blurted Crepuscular Effulgence.

“Yeah, yeah,” said the second Lightbulb, sighing. “Even my own sister tried. It’s sad, but so. For example, take the case of Crepuscular Scintillation—”

“Crepuscular who?” Crepuscular Effulgence interrupted. She squinted. “Do you choose your pupils on their name only?” she asked.

“Pure coincidence,” one of the two Lightbulbs answered. “Let’s name a few of them: Crepuscular Coruscance, Crepuscular Reflection, Crepuscular Velvet, Crepuscular Ultramarine, Crepuscular Scintillation… Hum… You see? Nothing to do with their name: they all end differently.”

Crepuscular Effulgence facehoofed again. The other Lightbulb glanced at the first one in consternation. “How can you be so dumb and yet rule over Hippocampus?” she wondered.

The first Lightbulb spun towards the other one. “Come on, knock it off, knock-off!” she snapped. “Anyway, I don’t need you anymore, so get lost!” A big white ray sprung from her horn, hit her other self that vanished with a pop.

"Good riddance!” said the now unique Princess Lightbulb. “Those clones are so brazen. So… what did I say? Ah yes! Crepuscular Scintillation. She tried to strike me with a thunderbolt.”

“Why?” asked Crepuscular Effulgence.

“She was fed up with my calling her ‘my peerless protégée’”

“How petty of her!”

“Indeed!” said Princess Lightbulb, and she shrugged. “But anyway. It all happened during your former school’s feast day. It was cloudy. I was delivering the customary speech from the balcony, and, I still don’t know why, everypony was yawning. At some point near the end, Crepuscular Scintillation conjured a bolt of thunder directly over me.”

“And what happened?”

“Well… She had overlooked that I was accompanied by two royal guards in full metal armor, wielding spears at that. They took the brunt of the bolt, and I was left unharmed. Poor guys, they ended up all fried. I think I can still remember their names: the first one was called… let me see… Benjamin!”

She paused, her eyes unfocused, as if she was lost in her memories.

“And the other?” asked Crepuscular Effulgence.

“Eh?” Lightbulb exclaimed, suddenly roused from her reverie by her pupil’s question. “Ah… The other guard? Why, Franklin, of course!”

“Hum.” Crepuscular Effulgence arched an eyebrow. “And what about that Crepuscular Scintillation?”

“Oh, she? I sent her through a portal into another dimension. I wonder what she has become, by the way. Maybe I should send somepony to investigate…” She looked at Crepuscular Effulgence with intent eyes.

“You… You don’t mean?…” stuttered Crepuscular Effulgence, suddenly frightened.

“Oh no, no! I’ve something worse up my sleeve for you.”

“What?” Crepuscular Effulgence slowly receded into a shadowy corner, her face ashen.

“You know that in a week we shall celebrate the Summer Sun in Ponyville, don’t you?”

“Yes?” acknowledged Crepuscular Effulgence in a quavering voice.

“Well, I want you to go there, watch over the preparations, and … make friends!” hissed Princess Lightbulb, and she took a sadistic expression.

“WHAT! Make friends in Ponyville? Have you lost your marbles? Ponyville’s a hick village filled up with simpletons!” Crepuscular Effulgence panicked. ”I’ve heard their IQ is less than 150 on average! Besides, how can I survive without Canterlot’s most basic amenities such as a large high-energy collider or a massively parallel vectorial supercomputer? I’d rather you sent me into a dragon’s den, at least that could be useful for thermodynamics. Where’s the portal you spoke about? I want to try it right away! Please!”

Lightbulb sniggered. “Well, it seems you will have to scratch out your beloved bosons from your life for a week. The alternative is to spend an extended but rather icy vacation on the Moon, together with my sister Princess Moontush. Pick your choice.”

“You sent your sister to the Moon?” asked Crepuscular Effulgence.

“Yeah, I had to,” Lightbulb sighed. “She transformed into a wicked mare of tempest, Nightin’ Gale, and threatened to shroud Hippocampus in an eternal vortex of winds. Why, I hate gusts: they make shutters clap, disturb my slumber, rumple my mane, and at the end I always end up catching a cold. So, given that she doggedly refused to revert to her normal form, I grew weary of shooting the breeze every night, and exiled her in the Moon. There is no atmosphere there, so she’s pretty powerless. Here…” She grasped a book in her magic from a nearby shelf and flew it towards Crepuscular Effulgence. “You can read the whole story therein. Well. Enough chitchat. GUARDS!”

At her call, two royal guards stepped in; their eyes bulged as they discovered the shambles the room was in. “Yes, your highness?” one of them ventured hesitantly.

“See that this young reprobate is promptly sent to Ponyville,” ordered Lightbulb, ”where she shall be in charge of monitoring the preparation of next week’s Sun celebration. She shall be put up in the local library. This is my desire. Implement!”

The two guards bobbed in obeisance, and turned their face towards Crepuscular Effulgence, whose head and ears flopped simultaneously. Silently, her gaze lowered, she followed the guards, rounded the doorframe, and disappeared into the corridor.