The evening wind whispered softly through the dry grasses atop the hill. Beneath her solitary pine, Twilight smiled, feeling it pull through her mane and gently ruffle the fur on her shoulders. With a contented sigh, she stretched, arching her back and rolling her neck before settling down once more to survey the twinkling starscape above.
There were many hills around Ponyville that offered spacious views of the diamond-studded night, but this one -- a little closer to the river, a little further from the town; a little taller, a little less well-trod -- this one was hers. It was this hill she came to when her heart yearned for the solitude of her old aerie in Canterlot, her lungs the warm freshness of midsummer night air. It was a quiet place, a thoughtful place: a place for stargazing, and a place for reflection.
It still surprised her how much those two went hoof-in-hoof -- how, by the mere act of lifting her eyes to those winking, blinking points of light, it became that much easier to let her mind wander, to ponder, to let go of all the tensions and worries she carried by day and just breathe. And so it was, that whenever she was troubled or had a problem she could not solve by other means, she found herself trudging up the hill to get a clear head and give things a proper musing.
In that, tonight was no exception. And while the problem of the day was less immediate than, say, a rampaging Draconequus or a swarm of parasprites or even the exasperating-yet-undeniable existence of Pinkie Sense, it still troubled her. She’d been reading (as was her wont), letting her mind wander (as was her wont), and it had sort of snuck up on her, right smack in the middle of a passage on charm theory. She’d tried to put it aside, to focus on the reading, but it was a persistent little thing, nipping and yapping and demanding attention, and eventually she’d had to put the book down and go outside.
She’d found herself wandering the streets and alleys of Ponyville, passing cheerful party-goers and groups of friends out for a night on the town, and trying to work through what was troubling her. But no matter how she frowned and pursed her lips and ignored the friendly greetings, the trouble persisted, and eventually she found herself trotting out of town and up the hill, where she could at last relax and think things through logically.
But while she had indeed relaxed, satisfactory answers proved elusive. She’d sat there for a good long while stubbornly mulling it out, but as the night had worn on she’d finally admitted defeat, resolving to tackle it again in the morning. She stretched again, readying herself for the trip back down the hill and into town, when--
‘Twi’?’
Twilight practically jumped out of her skin. Scrabbling to find her footing on the steep incline, she turned to see a Stetson-wearing silhouette saunter out from behind the tree, flanked by two smaller shadows. Of these, the smallest leapt forward with a whuff, and sniffed furiously at Twilight’s leg, while the other scratched sheepishly at the back of his head.
‘Sorry Twilight,’ said Spike, moving forward to rein in the excitable Winona, who was rubbing her head feverishly along Twilight’s shoulder. ‘I tried to tell her it was just one of those nights, but--’
‘Yeah, well, when yer friend the arcane magician storms past ya with a thunderhead the size’a Cloudsdale over her head, ya get nervous.’ Applejack retorted. She strode forward out of the shadow of the tree, and Twilight noted the look of concern with which her eyes swept over her.
Twilight chuckled, and Applejack immediately relaxed. ‘It’s alright, AJ -- no world-ending catastrophes tonight. Just had some things I wanted to think through.’
‘Pretty far outta town to come thinkin’.’
‘Pretty deep thoughts.’
‘Ah mean . . . considerin’ how you was lookin’ earlier, d’ya mind if Ah ask what about?’
Twilight pursed her lip. ‘It’s probably going to sound stupid the second it comes out of my mouth.’
‘Well, would that help ya work past it?’
‘Well . . .’ Twilight couldn’t quite meet her eye. ‘In a little, itty-bitty nutshell that doesn’t reaaally cover everything I could be saying about the matter but still encapsulates it kind of neatly? Princess Celestia.’
Applejack’s eyebrows shot into her hairline. ‘If’n this is gonna be one’a those stories, I don’t wanna hear it.’
Twilight glared. ‘Not like that. It was more like . . . what she means to Equestria, and how things might be different if she weren’t here.’
‘Mighty strange thing t’be thinkin’ out’a the blue, Twilight. D’ . . . D’ya know somethin’ that we don’t? Ah mean--’
‘No, no, nothing like that! At least, not as far as I know . . .’ Twilight’s brow darkened. ‘I’d better write the Princesses again. Anyway, no, what I was thinking about earlier was--’
Every ear turned at the sound of the Ponyville clock distantly chiming an hour to midnight.
‘Oh bother, is it that late already?’ Twilight muttered, staring at the moon, nearly overhead. ‘I’d meant to be back ages ago.’
‘Yup. I was just locking up for the night when Applejack came knocking,’ Spike chimed in. ‘Say, that reminds me, weren’t you dropping off a book? I mean, I know you were looking for Twilight, too, but . . ’
‘Oh!’ Twilight’s eyes lit up. ‘Did you finish Grate Expectations? What’d you think of it?’
Applejack stuck out her tongue. ‘Drainin’.’
‘As a historical document, though, didn’t you find it fascinating? The commentary on the unicorn nobility, the struggle of the lone stallion to make his way in a world stacked against him? And to think, all of that written by a sanitation pony in Trottingham...’
‘Weren’t all that. Jess long-winded and badly in need of an editor fer some’a those hundred-word sentences. Anyway, weren’t you tellin’ me what was botherin’ you?’
Twilight snorted. ‘Oh alright, fine. But we’re still having that discussion later.’ She sighed, and fidgeted, and looked again at the moon. ‘Alright, look. I know it’s late, and we should probably both be getting home, but this is going to take some explaining. Walk Spike and me back to the Library?’
Applejack nodded. ‘Wasn’t plannin’ on gettin’ much of an early start tomorrow anyway. Big Mac and Applebloom are fixin’ things all weekend, and there’s only so much a gal can do when all the equipment’s stacked up in the barn.’
Spike’s eyes lit up as the four set off back down the hill. ‘Ooh. Maybe they need someone to help burn down all the rotten stuff again. That’d be cool.’ Twilight gave him a stern look, and he folded his arms. ‘What? It’s not like I can practise in the Library, and didn’t you say “a growing dragon needs to know this stuff”?’
‘Yeah, I did.’ Twilight sighed. ‘I just worry about you, Spike. Or things getting out of hoof.’
‘’Course you do,’ Spike grinned, putting an arm over her withers. ‘’Cos you care. Which is awesome. But I gotta learn sometime, right?’
Twilight mumbled something about how proud she was, and bumped him affectionately with her shoulder. He returned the gesture.
Applejack coughed.
‘So, err, hate to break that up, but . . . Princess Celestia?’
Twilight nodded.
‘Like I said, it’s not really anything specifically about her. It’s more about the role that she -- and Princess Luna, though of course that’s only a recent development -- that the both of them play for Equestria.’
‘So, what? Yer worried about the monarchy? Princessdom?’ Applejack blanched. ‘Oh. Yer not thinkin’a all that “King and Queen and where the royal family went” stuff, are ya? ‘Cos that’s a black hole Ah’ve heard at least a couple archaeologists fall in and never climb back out of.’
‘Hadn’t ever thought about that before, frankly,’ said Twilight, in a way that rang too much of honesty to be anything but a lie. ‘But tonight was less about conspiracy theories and more to do with . . . I dunno, cause and effect? I mean--’
She gestured out at the town laid out before them. ‘Look at Ponyville -- Equestria. Things wouldn’t be the same if the Princesses weren’t here, would they? The Three Nations would still be at each others’ throats, the Unicorn Council would still be tied up moving the sun and the moon, and we’d probably have lost a lot more land to the Griffons, the Hyenas, and the Drakes over the last thousand years.'
‘Sure, everypony with a bit’a historical know-how could tell ya that.’
‘Yeah, they could. But I was thinking about that, and it seemed so . . . perfunctory, right? I mean, surely, that’s not all that would change if they weren’t here. So I started thinking: what other roles do the Princesses play in our lives? What else do we rely on them for? How else is Equestria bettered by them being here?’
Applejack grinned. ‘“Bettered”? Ah can tell yer a fan.’
Twilight gave her a flat look. ‘The only ponies who aren’t are the idiot nobles who think they could do a better job. And even half of them are just being “anti-establishment” to impress their friends.’
‘Oh, Ah know, Twi. Jess pullin’ yer leg.’
‘But, see, I think that’s part of it too -- we don’t really have all that much reason to question the Princess’ leadership, so they must be doing something right, right?’
Applejack frowned. ‘Ah mean, ah haven’t agreed a hundred percent with everythin’ Celestia’s ever done -- Ah’m thinkin’ that, uh, ‘trade formalisation’ with the Diamond Dogs, fer example -- but, yeah, generally speakin’, things seem to be runnin’ pretty smoothly.’
‘Exactly! Well, my question was: what if that’s because we believe in the Princesses’ ability to handle anything that comes up?’
‘Erm, what?’
Twilight’s look of triumph deflated slightly as Applejack and Spike shared a look of bewilderment. She stammered, trying to regain her conversational footing. ‘Err. Um . . .’
She flapped vaguely in the direction of Canterlot. ‘You’ve . . . you’ve seen the Cathedral up in the capital, right? Run by the Sisterhood?’
‘What, those loonie-birds? Twilight, Ah never took ya fer--’
‘They may be excessive, but maybe they’re on to something. No, stop looking at me like that and hear me out. The Sisterhood are a little out there, I’ll admit -- and they may take things a little far in how much they worship the Princesses, but think about all the things they say make the Alicorns goddesses manifest: the commingling of all three breeds’ blood in a single body; the unparalleled attunement with magic, the ability to affect celestial bodies without any outside aid . . . ?’
‘Twilight, in all mah years’a livin’ at the foot of Mount Canter, never once have I heard either Celestia or Luna refer to herself as a “goddess”. That’s the sorta talk you get outta crazy ponies who find ancient amulets in the Everfree and take towns hostage ‘fore gettin’ gunned down by the Royal Guard.’
‘That doesn’t make the comparison baseless!’ Twilight protested. ‘They may not acknowledge it publicly, or lord it over us like the Unicorns used to do, but they’re the most powerful ponies in the world! Maybe even the most powerful beings in the world!’
‘That we know of.’
‘That we know of,’ Twilight conceded. ‘But the point stands: Luna and Celestia both have power and knowledge the rest of us can only dream of and we respect, trust -- and, yes, sometimes even worship -- them for all they’ve done for us with that power and knowledge.’
‘Ah’m sensin’ a but.’
‘No, no buts, just a therefore.’
‘Oh, what, is the part where Crystal Dragon Discord comes ridin’ down on an ice-cream cone to tell me everythin’ Ah know is a lie?’
‘No.’
‘Then fergive me fer sayin’ so, Twi’, but Ah’m still not seein’ what had ya so het up about this.’
‘That’s because we haven’t even gotten to the important part yet! All that was just groundwork!’
‘Hoo boy.’
They had reached the road. Spike and Winona ran on ahead a little, as Twilight let the air out between her teeth.
‘Phhhhwoo. Okay. Now that we’ve cleared that hurdle . . . don’t you think the stars are pretty tonight?’
‘. . . yes? Ah presume this is goin’ somewhere?’
‘It is, yes. It’s why I went up out to look at them. Usually it just gives me perspective, but tonight?’ She sighed, and paused in her tracks. Applejack’s eyes followed hers skyward. ‘You know, I could probably name you every one of those constellations, the stars that make them up, their astrological and astronomical significance . . . but if we ever made our way out there, to any one of them, nopony knows what we’d find.’
‘Nothin’, near as I been taught. Wasn’t one’a Luna’s jobs before the Fall supposed t’be cataloguin’ the cosmos or summat? Ah thought the story went she only found that thing that turned her inta Nightmare Moon. Jess cold stars ’n’ blackness.’
Twilight blinked in surprise. She’d half expected Applejack to quote conventional wisdom on celestial spheres. ‘I’m . . . not sure. There’re a lot of stories floating around and, of course, Luna’s not said much . . .’
Applejack shook her head. ‘Sorry, Twi’, didn’t mean to derail ya. About the stars?’
‘Well, the general opinion of the Royal Astronomers is that all those stars are bodies quite like our own Sun. There’s some variation, obviously -- not every star is yellow like ours, and some systems seem to have two, even three in close proximity, but . . .’ She smiled, wanly. ‘Imagine: if even one star in a thousand is like ours, could be orbiting a world like ours, with ponies just like us . . .’
‘That . . . seems a bit far-fetched, don’t it? All those worlds, each with Alicorns keepin’ things spinnin’? You’da thought we’dve heard from some’a them by now . . .’
‘Exactly.’ Twilight felt her eyes boring into Applejack with the sheer intensity of what she was trying to convey. ‘Do you see it yet?’
‘Ah’m gettin’ there.’ Applejack scratched her chin with a free hoof. ‘One thing that suggests, Ah think, is that the Princesses’re fakin’ it somehow . . .’
‘. . . which, given that the first awakening of every Unicorn to magic comes when she feels Celestia raising the Sun, I think we can safely discard . . .’
‘Fair. So, then, if the worlds’re like ours, and Alicorns ain’t movin’ the sun . . .’ She gawped. ‘Then this is what ya were tryin’ t’say before, about what the world would be like . . .’
‘. . . without Alicorns,’ finished Twilight, soberly.
Applejack slowed to a stop, just ahead of the bridge that marked the edge of town. The babbling of the brook beneath was the only sound that passed between them for a moment. Twilight broke the silence.
‘You can see why this had me running around all over town.’
‘. . . yeah.’ Applejack swallowed, hard. ‘Tell me y’all ain’t the first clever pony t’reason this one out?’
‘Hard to say. Too many ponies in too many places are too set in their ways to even consider it, and I suspect the Astronomers’ Guild is no exception.’
‘. . . so what does it mean? Ah mean, s’all jess speculation, right?’
‘Oh, of course,’ said Twilight, waving a hoof airily. ‘Nopony’s even been able to prove those worlds exist -- and we certainly don’t have the magic to go looking ourselves. But even so . . .’
‘But even so,’ Applejack echoed, weakly. Then, more softly: ‘What kinda world would that have to be like, d’ya reckon?’
‘Dunno,’ Twilight said, honestly. ‘Different. Colder, maybe. Less friendly.’
‘How’d ya figure?’
‘Well, if we’re assuming no Alicorns -- perhaps nothing like an Alicorn? Or any omnipotent beings, for that matter? No Discords, no Chrysalises?’
‘No gods, no masters?’ A wry smile played along Applejack’s lips.
Twilight shrugged. ‘If you want. But think how different that society would be, without . . . something . . . to put your faith in.’
‘Ya think so? The Griffons seem t’be doin’ okay without Celestia in their lives. Diamond Dogs, too.’
‘Mm.’ Twilight shook her head. ‘I’m not sure it’s the same. The Diamond Dogs have their Mountain King, sure, but the Griffons? They don’t have any organised form of worship, or faith, or belief -- their form of Science precludes it. And that’s perfectly fine! But . . . they can’t deny that beings like Celestia and Luna and Discord exist, can they? They’re . . . manifest. A certainty.’
‘Don’t mean they have to believe Celestia raises the sun every mornin’.’
‘No, but I suspect that after the end of the last Griffon War, they won’t be forgetting her other powers any time soon,’ Twilight snorted. ‘I don’t think there was enough of King Thunderstride to send home in a matchbox.’
They shared a chuckle at that.
‘Seriously, though,’ said Twilight, starting to walk in the direction of the Library again, ‘it’s different from other kinds of power, isn’t it? Anypony can pick up a sword or raise an army -- who else can walk in dreams, or scry the future, or provably claim immortality? Apples and oranges.’
‘Apples and honeydew.’ Applejack followed, still chuckling. ‘So, back to yer hypothetical world: if there’s no such bein’s and nothin’ like ‘em . . . what? Buncha ragin’ minotaurs whackin’ each other with sticks?’
‘That was about as far as I got before you walked up the hill.’ Twilight shrugged. ‘I just don’t know. Maybe there are too many factors in play to be able to tell, and maybe living in Equestria for all my life has shaped my view on this, but . . . I couldn’t think of a single happy world where something like an alicorn didn’t exist.’
‘How’s that?’ Applejack raised an eyebrow. ‘Werntcha just tellin’ me the Griffons were doin’ fine without any kinda faith?’
Twilight sighed. ‘Ohh . . . I’m not explaining this properly, am I? I’m sorry.’ Her eyes flitted skyward again, and when she spoke it was obvious her words were chosen with care. ‘I suppose . . . it seems lonely. Frightening, even. Too many unanswerable questions, too many unknowns.’
‘Heh. No points fer guessin’ what yer biggest fear is.’
‘Oh, boo on you.’ Twilight stuck out her tongue. ‘Let me be serious, would you?’
Applejack doffed her hat, a gesture equal parts contrite and sardonic. ‘Beg pardon.’
They had reached the Library by the time Twilight had a proper response thought out. Spike had already unlocked the door and disappeared within, a trail of half-lit candles and light cursing tracking him around the dingy space. Winona moved to Applejack’s side as the cowpony hovered on the stoop.
Twilight stopped just inside the doorway, barely stifling a yawn. ‘Alright. Last thought, and then I’ll let you get back home. What I said about unknowns? Think about it: if you have some kind of order, some kind of overarching design that you know you fit into, isn’t it that much easier to go about your life? And conversely, that much harder without one? And,’ she continued, lifting a hoof to preempt Applejack’s half-formed retort, ‘even if you don’t believe in the rightness of that pattern, or whoever’s at the top, knowing that there is one grants perspective. Yea or nay?’
‘Abstain,’ Applejack retorted. ‘Ah still don’t think yer givin’ these hypothetical critters enough credit.’
‘How so?’
‘Well, ya already said without Celestia-or-similar, they’da had to work all this stuff out fer themselves, right? Maybe that extends t’the, err, emotional aspect as well. What y’all were sayin’ before about that kinda world bein’ “colder”.’
‘That’s giving them a lot of credit.’
‘T’aint. Look at the Griffons.’
‘You’re honestly going to tell me that ruthless, violent anti-deists are a good model for entire universes’ worth of possibilities?’
‘Y’all gonna tell me ponies are? Don’ give me that look. You were the one said the possibilities were endless.’
‘. . . moving on. Your point about their emotions?’
‘Y’all said there were so many unanswered questions for that kinda folk. Why?’
‘Because there’s no power in their life that can explain their reason for being.’
‘Alright, good. So what’s our reason for bein’, then?’
Twilight‘s brow furrowed. ’Applejack, are you being intentionally pedantic, or . . . ?’
‘Ah don’ know what that means, but Ah suspect that once Ah do, Ah’ll highly resemble that remark.’ Applejack grinned. ‘But still, hear me out.’
‘Fine then: Harmony. Our reason for being is Harmony.’ Twilight waved a hoof. ‘To build a world where all creatures can live together without fear, without hatred, and work together in common understanding to build a beautiful society.’
‘Exactly. And do ya really think that in that wide, wide universe of possibilities y’all mentioned before, that someone, somewhere out there couldn’t come to the same conclusion without the aid of a Celestia-or-similar?’
‘Didn’t happen here,’ Twilight shrugged. ‘Or, at least, if certain ponies had the idea, maybe even laid the groundwork, there was no way for it to be fully realised without the Princesses’ guiding influence.’
‘And the Griffons?’
‘Again with the Griffons!’ Twilight exclaimed, throwing her hooves in the air. ‘I thought we established they weren’t a good model. But fine, yes, that actually fits my point rather well: they’re always questioning. They never have the answers they want, and that uncertainty has caused more conflicts between them than anything they’ve ever visited on us.’
‘Questionin’? Sounds a lot like a certain mare Ah know.’
‘Yes, but I don’t have to question the fundamental things like the reasons for being here, because I already have those answers. I can focus on the more important stuff, like understanding how things work. Astronomy, not cosmology.’
‘An’ the Princesses help with that?’
‘Obviously.’
‘’Cos they provide a physical presence we can believe in?’
‘But they’re more than that! They’re an idea, a belief -- just as much as they are physical beings. There’s power in what they represent!’
‘Aha!’ said Applejack, a twinkle in her eye. ‘Ideas! What would y’all say, then, if yer hypothetical critters believed in an idea? No Celestia, no Luna, nothin’ like that. Just the idea of, say, Harmony, without the physical bits.’
‘Then you’d have the Diamond Dogs, throwing rocks into pools of lava to appease the unknowable whims of a spiritual construct their society has cobbled together over eons of fear and doubt! It is not the same!’
‘No, it ain’t. But it does somethin’ for ‘em right? Still gives ‘em somethin’ to bond over and gather around.’
‘But not in the same way! Not nearly as effectively, surely! They can’t see it or feel it or hear it-- And even then, they still have Celestia and Luna in their lives, even if it’s not in the same way!’
Applejack shook her head. ‘Still not givin’ em enough credit.’
‘Well fine, what do you think that world would be like, then?’ Twilight huffed.
‘What do Ah think? At this point, Ah think yer worryin’ yer head off over a hypothetical, gettin’ yerself more riled up than before I got here, and should probably get some sleep.’
‘But even if it ends up having nothing to do with me, there could be a people out there that’s suffering because of it! I can’t just let that go!’
‘Oh, be still, yer bleedin’ heart.’ Applejack’s eyes spun skyward. ‘Fine, if ya really need an answer that’ll let ya rest easy, Twi, what about that good ol’ standby, hope?’
‘Hope?’
‘Hope.’
‘That’s . . . hardly satisfying.’
‘But, y’know, it seems to work out fer most folk when things get rough. Keeps ponies together, keeps ‘em singin’ on the cold winter nights. Real Hearthswarmin’ stuff, ya know?’
Twilight snorted, pawing the ground, and started to protest, but the sight of Spike blearily dragging his blanket up to the loft seemed to change her mind.
‘I . . .’ She sighed. ‘Well, I’ll admit, I was hoping for some kind of resolution.’
Applejack smiled faintly. ‘Ah think we all wish life worked that way, sugarcube.’
They shuffled in silence for a moment after that, the pause all the more noticeable for the unbrokenness of their previous exchange. Twilight was trying to get a look at the clock out of the corner of her eyes when Applejack spoke again, fidgeting slightly.
‘Ya know, Twi’, most ponies don’t give me the credit you do.’
Twilight’s eyes snapped front and centre. ‘I’m not sure what you mean.’
‘How many other ponies d’ya honestly think would be willing to talk this kinda thing through with a lil’ ol’ farm pony like me? Most I get at the Acres is “Eeyup,” “Eenope,” and “Cutie Mark.” Ah love mah family, Twi’, but damn if it ain’t refreshin’ to have some honest-to-Celestia intellectual repartee with somepony. So, again, thank ya.’
Twilight cocked her head, puzzled. ‘Of course? Even if you didn’t agree with everything I was saying, you seemed interested. Why wouldn’t I share that with you?’
To her surprise, Applejack burst out laughing. ‘That’s one’a the things I love about ya, girl. Even when ya don’t mean ta be, you’re sweet as all heck. Have a good night, Twi’!’
She turned to go, then stopped a few paces away from the door. ‘And, look, if this is still buggin’ ya tomorrow? Maybe we can talk about it more again. But fer now? Get some sleep, Twi.’
And she disappeared into the night, Winona yipping at her heels.
‘Goodnight?’ Twilight called after her.
She stood there for a good few minutes afterward, letting the questions she knew she could not answer do a few more spin cycles in her mind. Then she walked to the bathroom, did her ablutions, and followed Spike up to the loft, where her bed awaited.
She was asleep before her head hit the pillow.
Author's Note
Once again, I'm writing about something people will have strong opinions on. Be polite to one another in the comments, please?
