Author's Note
Why did I write this? I don't know- I just did.
This is it.
“What is it?” Celestia’s consultant, Jenny Hayfield, asked underneath her breath, slack-jawed and stuck to the floor. She wanted to turn away from the spectacle before her, but its abstract and expressive appearance glued her to the scene. Every second she spent looking upon the work was a second she could have spent doing… well- anything. Anything besides peering upon the phenomenon before, yet she felt compelled to analyse it, evaluate it and reach a conclusion about it. A conclusion that she had yet to reach. She noted every aspect of it- the colour, the shape, the effort the creator put into it, the message it delivered; it delivered a variety of messages to the viewers, one of which said ‘I lack any and all common sense.’
“I’m not sure.” Celestia replied, her head cocked slightly to the left in an effort to view the phenomenon at a different angle. But, however she tried, it still made no sense. Her rump was numb from having sat on the solid floor in front of the phenomenon for a while now, she wasn’t sure how long she had been inspecting it. Time seemed to while away as she watched it, observing the unique features that would periodically turn stale and bitter before smoothing into a lovely descant of beauty and allure. The appearance of it provoked Celestia with its absurdity while at the same time soothing her with its gentleness. Needless to say, it was turning her into a cocktail of emotions, and she was definitely shaken, not stirred.
“She sent it to you, right?” Jenny asked, referring to her sister’s protégé, Twilight Sparkle.
Celestia let out a long, “Yeah,” as she tilted her head to the right. Her gaze never left Twilight’s work. The world around her and it seemed to turn to a haze then transition back to a clear picture, wading back and forward in an indefinite cycle between obscure and unblemished.
“How old is she, what grade is she in?” Jenny inquired, unaware that she was leaning closer to the phenomenon sent by Twilight.
“She, uhh…” Celestia didn’t consider Twilight’s age when reviewing her work. She was a smart filly, and this seemed rather strange for somepony of her scholarly acuity. “I think this is her first year in ‘The School for Gifted Unicorns.’”
“Oh- she’s gifted all right.” Jenny replied. An uncertain amount of time passed before Jenny spoke again. She looked further into the depths that was the product of Twilight’s trailing imagination. She looked for meaning in its design, at first it was a mere interest, but now it felt like a necessity. As if she couldn’t live comfortably without knowing the meaning of the work, “Do you think she’s mocking you?”
Celestia’s jaw hung open, her breathing hastened and her eyes slightly dilated. Her tongue and lips felt arid and cracked, and no amount moisture could soothe her dry mouth, “No- I wouldn’t say that.”
“What would you say about it then?” Jenny asked, momentarily diverting her attention to her sister before being snapped back to Twilight’s work.
Wriggling slightly, Celestia said, “I think she wanted to provide a perspective on how she views school… maybe?”
“No, that’s definitely not it.” Jenny squinted at the work, “She loves school.” she leaned forward even further, nearly falling flat on her face more than once, “This is far too… intangible for ‘love’” Jenny slowly shook her head, “No- I think this has more meaning than just simple interests and sharing perspectives. She really gave this thought.”
“What?” Celestia asked with an eyebrow raised. She didn’t look away from it, “You think there’s more to this than we think?”
“Yes, I believe this is related to metaphysical knowledge- or possibly epistemological knowledge. This could be her expressing her thoughts on Existentialism; does this world and all beings- my being, your being, her being- exist within this world?” The longer Jenny stared at the piece of work, the more she felt like it was staring back at her, watching her every movement and reading her every thought, “Though, it could be her expressing her opinion on the matter of morals and ethics- how our ideas on how equality should be reached is misguided and confused. Perhaps equality is a false dogma ponykind has conjured up.”
Celestia simply nodded as Jenny continued to speak.
Jenny’s voice dropped in pitch; her words were like a whisper hidden underneath her shallow breathing, “This could be her attempt to represent a world where such ideals are put into practice. There are no priorities, no protocols, no pleasure, only equality. Or perhaps she is concerned that all her achievements will be for nought.”
Thinking for a moment, contemplating the validity of Jenny’s explanation and the correlation it could have with Twilight’s young mind, Celestia said, “I think…” She thought for a moment, pondering whether she should add onto Jenny’s philosophy. The snare she trapped herself in loosened momentarily, allowing enough time for her to escape its grip and return to reality, “I think… we should forget about it.” Celestia then grabbed Twilight’s work by its corners, folded it over and stored it into her desk; Jenny’s focus on it only broke once the drawer was shut.
“I think that’s for the best,” Jenny replied, rubbing the torpor from her eyes.
***
In a quiet classroom, young unicorns sit with pencils held in their magical grasp. On the wall to the left of the door are posters reminding the students of the characteristics of a scholar and how they should abide by these characteristics. To the right of the door is the chalkboard, scuffed and stained from decades of schooling and rigorous lessons filled with magic and mathematics. On it is the class’ task for the rest of the day, ‘Write a letter to Celestia telling her about your time in this school.’ Some of the unicorns thought it was a futile task, surely Celestia wouldn’t have any time to read their letters? However, it was a task that Twilight was determined to ace. She gripped her pencil with her magic and started writing down her experiences in the school in horrendous handwriting, she even found time to draw a picture too. The image was not the best, luckily Twilight would not even remember doing it when she was older. The image was a mess of irregular colours and proportions that were far too uncanny to be even considered as ‘abstract’. Nonetheless, she continued to draw with sincere joy, unaware of the strife it would cause her mentor. All that mattered was that she was content, and she was. Life for her was great and she was determined to make the most of it, learn what she could and come out on top. She just hoped Celestia would understand her picture and see how happy she was.
