Princess Celestia, Penultimate of the Alicorns born out of holy song itself, mistress of the eternal sun, ruler of the Long Peace, patron of champions and sustainer of the hundred cities, the Glory of the Dawn and the Radiance of the Day…
Rather enjoyed not having to think about any of that. She enjoyed the small moments in which she could simply enjoy a quiet walk on a quiet path. It wasn’t that she despised the trappings of regality and of court--far from it, if she were honest. It was just that every once in awhile, Celestia wanted to be a pony. Just a normal, real pony. Not a symbol or a stand-in or a untouchable idol upon a golden throne.
Just a pony. A real one.
She had been looking forward to visiting Twilight all week, ever since she’d received her student’s enthusiastic response to her offer. A week off from court and the council, with Luna taking up the slack, and all the while Celestia would indulge in her greatest joy: anonymity.
So it wasn’t Celestia, Princess of Equestria and Shepherd of the Sun that strolled into Ponyville. It was a pegasus called Sunrise that came in off the dusty road with a huge grin and bouncing saddlebags. She would make her way over to Twilight’s new home eventually, but there was no way in Tartarus Celestia would pass up the chance to enjoy a nice spring day in a lovely little village where absolutely nopony would recognize her.
And enjoy it she did. She waved to a few ponies who waved to her. She asked for directions to places she already knew simply to have a pleasant little conversation. She bought apples from Applejack just to revel in the complete lack of familiarity in those eyes--and yet was touched by the genuine openness of the mare’s greeting and friendly banter.
All in all, an absolutely wonderful morning. Perhaps one of the first mornings she had truly enjoyed in months.
Humming an ancient tune, Celestia eyed the distant Golden Oaks. She could arrive early, and have a nice bit of morning tea with her favorite and only personal student… but, alas, it could not be. She was in Ponyville, and when one was in Ponyville, one found certain things unavoidable.
Cake. Cake was the unavoidable thing. Sugarcube Corner’s cake was absolutely delightful, and Celestia would choose both death and dishonor before she passed up a chance to enjoy some of their lovely cake without the bakers fawning over her. Their names were Cake, for heaven’s sake!
So she strolled in, still humming as she stepped to the empty counter.
Pinkie was there. Had she not been filled with a pleasant haze of contentment, Celestia might have been a bit more cautious. But she was quite blind to the nature of things.
“Oh hiya! Long time no see. I bet Twilight is super excited,” Pinkie said cheerfully. “What can I get you for? On the house!”
Celestia smiled. “Yes, I’m sure she will. It’s going to be a marvelous week, Pinkie. I’ll have a bit of your red velvet cake, if you don’t mind. Just a slice. And…” She blinked, playing the brief conversation over in her head. “Wait.”
“Hm?” Pinkie’s musical voice drifted up from behind the counter as she retrieved Celestia’s order.
“What gave you the idea I was visiting a… um, somepony named Twilight Sparkle?” Celestia asked, lamely at best. Her voice was hushed, despite there being only a few patrons.
“Oh, I saw through you right away,” Pinkie said, shrugging. Celestia was grateful as she lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Can’t get one past Aunt Pinkie. Aunt Pinkie sees all,” she added, with a dignified lift of her chin. “Oh, and your cutie mark is totes still a sun.”
“I… see.” Celestia sighed, some of the cheer of her morning gone. “I had hoped to go unnoticed.”
The cake was set on the counter. “Sorry! I figured it would be okay if it was just me. It is kinda just me. Okay, mostly. I can think of a few ponies who might guess, or might wonder.” Idly, she tapped her chin. “But nah, you’re good, Princess. And I promise not to tell.”
Celestia smiled at her, feeling a little lighter. “Thank you, Pinkie Pie. You are a true friend.”
“Always happy to help! Oh, and the cake’s on me.”
With a wink and a happy little Pinkie-Pie impromptu tune soon ringing in her ears, Celestia found a table by the door and began eating her cake. Was it delicious? Absolutely. Was it, in fact, the best of all possible foods? Of course. Cake itself was more than simply food. It was a universal constant, because some things really are constant and the obvious superiority of cake was one of those things. Luna could have her toffee. It was a weird obsession anyway.
Her altogether silly mood was intruded upon only slightly by the door opening. The little bell rang, and Pinkie greeted yet another customer. Yet another--what beautiful words those were! Just another pony, that was what she was. Nopony bowed to Sunrise. Except perhaps ironically. Irony was another thing she enjoyed. It was the cake of literary devices.
And so her happy vacationing would have continued unabated until her pleasant, if awkward, lunch with Twilight Sparkle if not for a strange occurrence. Celestia finished her cake with a happy sigh, and felt somepony’s eyes on her.
“That’s not a real cutie mark. I can like tell, you know.”
Celestia blinked. Not quite registering the content of this utterance, she didn’t feel much concern apart from a small disappointment. It was always such a let down when her little ponies chose to be unkind to one another…
“I’m down here, dumb bird.”
Celestia blinked again. She looked down.
The sight that greeted her was, frankly, somewhat appalling. It was an earth pony filly, which was of course not the appalling part because despite the grumblings of a millennium full of mildly intoxicated earth ponies bitter after long work hours, she did not undervalue those without wings or magic. No, what was appalling was the fact that she was far too pink. Celestia, being pink, really understood pinkness. Pinkie Pie’s pinkness? Oversaturated, yes, but she committed. This was not committment. It was simply unfortunate. The crown was nice. She wasn’t entirely sure why there was a crown on this filly’s teased mane, but it was certainly there and as a longtime wearer of crowns, she had to admit that it was definitely a decent one, considering the owner’s size and age.
“Yeah, I meant you. I bet you’re a blank flank,” said the filly in her equally unfortunate voice.
Celestia had wanted to kick many things in her life. At some point, a long time ago, she had organized these various subjects of violent desire into an exhaustive list that she kept in a chest somewhere. After long days staring holes into oblivious dignitaries, or after a particularly unpleasant luncheon with the Houses Major where Brigantine Rowan-Oak wasn’t there to lighten the mood with her unrepentant vulgarity, Celestia would take the list out. She would then proceed to read the list happily and admire all of the things she had not kicked thank you very much. Past virtue was always a nice thing to reflect on. It made present virtue so much easier.
“I beg your pardon, my little pony. What gave you that idea?”
“Cause your cutie mark is fake. It’s soooo fake. Ugh, and it’s boring too.”
The List of Those Singular Individuals Who Warrant Imminent and Violent Expulsion From Existence Via the Method of Divine Song-Touched Hoof Contact had not been updated in at least a month. She had also erased Twilight Sparkle’s name at least twice and removed it to other lists which were less severe but also nice to stroke when late night frustrations took their toll.
Celestia smiled the benevolent smile of the long-lived and thoroughly in control. “What is your name, good filly?”
“Diamond Tiara. And why won’t you just admit your cutie mark is fake!”
Diamond Tiara was mentally added to The List. This did not, of course, mean that she would kicking said filly into red paste anytime soon. On the contrary, Celestia’s main form of stress relief… well, the second main form of stress relief was in being extraordinarily nice to those who deserved to be kicked into red paste.
“What a lovely name,” Celestia said, sincerely. If nothing else, it did roll of the tongue, didn’t it? “Though I am not sure wherever you got that idea. My cutie mark is quite real, I assure you. I’m sorry you think it is boring, but I assure you that its perceived mundanity does not make it fake.”
Celestia was good at lying to children. Lying to children, in general, is a great skill.
“Puh-lease,” said the filly with the extremely punchable everything. “I know it’s fake. It’s almost as fake as Princess Celestia!”
Celestia blinked at this interloper.
The interloper blinked back, much like abysses are wont to, but without being an abyss.
Celestia decided that this conversation was drawing too much attention. She cleared her throat. “That is a curious claim, Diamond Tiara. Whyever do you think so?”
Tiara sized her up. “Most ponies faint when I say that.”
“Yes, well. I happen to believe in the power of a calm and orderly conversation,” Celestia said smoothly. “And dialogue, in general. Sit?” She gestured. “I have a few minutes. I’m fascinated as to why you believe Princess Celestia is, ah, ‘fake’.”
“Eh, why not?” Diamond Tiara hopped into the seat. By hopped, crawled is meant. Fillies are small and sometimes chairs are large. Even with the present circumstances, Celestia felt a little sympathy. She actually thought a bit of a certain purple unicorn who might have insisted she could do it herself.
Diamond Tiara recovered her composure on the high chair, sitting with what could be called regality. It would be called this by idiots and ponies who had never seen an actual princess, but they might conceivably consider her posture to be something like regal.
“Now. Present your case, Miss Tiara,” Celestia said, some of her good mood returning.
Her prodigious skill in lying to them aside, Celestia genuinely enjoyed children most of the time. Foals had energy and a lack of inhibition that agelessness found endlessly appealing. Fillies and colts were still interested in things like tag, for instance. Celestia was a fan of tag. Tag was a fine game. Adults always seemed too finicky to play it properly. It was also often more fun to debate with foals. Foals were, for starters, fierce opponents no matter what. Even against princesses.
“Well, first off, my special talent is finding faults. Like, I can spot a forged signature or imperfections. Or sometimes I don’t spot them. I just know.”
Celestia raised an eyebrow. “Really now.”
Diamond Tiara nodded. “One day, when my dad was showing off samples from a deal he had made… I got this feeling, right?” She looked at Celestia with sudden scrutiny. Celestia nodded patiently, and the filly lost herself to recollection. “So I had that feeling. I knew something was wrong about it. It was weak. It had problems. So I told him, and he didn’t believe me! Ugh. Stupid. But I kept telling him, and eventually he promised to check… and I was right. My special talent is finding weaknesses and fakes.”
“And you’re sure it isn’t merely to do with finding imperfections in gems?” Celestia asked, leaning in.
“Nope. Because that’s dumb. That is a dumb blank flank thing to say, which fits because I think you are a blank flank. Are you?”
“I can assure you I am not.”
“So you painted over your real one. I bet you’re a criminal on the run, in disguise.”
The fact that she was disconcertingly close to the truth made Celestia wonder about the efficacy of a non-ranked list. Would this move her down or up in the ranks of kickable personages? Which of course would be not kicked. Ever. Celestia continued to smile. “Perhaps that is understandable, but… I’m afraid I am no criminal, and not on the run. My special talent is for always knowing when the sun is rising--I wake up right on time. Boring, isn’t it?”
Diamond Tiara laughed. “Yeah, that’s the dumbest thing ever.”
“So I can understand why you might think my cutie mark is a bit dull. However, I’m much more interested in why you think Celestia isn’t real. What do you mean by that.”
Diamond Tiara looked Celestia over, her eyes hard and piercing. She raised a hoof.
“Yo, Pinkie Pie, gimme a cupcake.”
“Right away!” sang Pinkie, because Pinkie was nearly immune to the scorn of Ponyville’s premier scorn-exporter. Scorn as well as condescension produce diminishing returns over time, and much like radiation, Pinkie Pie found that she had worked up a pretty fierce immunity. Radiation worked that way. Pinkie knew things.
The cupcake arrived and Tiara examined it with the same eyes that had so recently been aimed at the Diarch of the Sun. To Celestia’s shock as soon as those eyes were off her she felt genuinely better about her own existence.
“This cupcake is okay,” Diamond Tiara mumbled.
“Thanks!” sing-songed the eternally sing-songing Pinkie Pie.
“So, uh, go away.”
“Righty-o! Want some coffee, Miss Sunrise?” asked Pinkie.
Celestia looked up with alarm. She didn’t recall giving Pinkie her assumed name, and yet before she could say a word her eyes met those deep eldritch orbs of knowledge and somehow picked up far too much information.
Most of it, thankfully, she immediately forgot so as to preserve the stability of a fragile and swiftly tilting planet. But some got through. Pinkie seemed to be offering her an out. Just give the word, her eyes said somehow, and I’ll have you out that door in five seconds, Princess.
Celestia almost nodded. She still wanted to see Twilight before lunch and in general. Frankly, she was torn. Part of her wanted to hear whatever absurd argument the filly had, and yet most of her simply wanted to go back to enjoying her vacation where no one noticed her ever. And yet.
“Tea,” Celestia said, and then pursed her lips. “Doesn’t matter what kind. Surprise me.”
“Oh I’m full of surprises,” giggled the eldritch being who was extremely committed to being pink. This thought passed through Celestia’s head but in a strange and faded way. Note to self: avoid directly staring into her eyes.
“I’m ready. Celestia isn’t real. She’s an illusion, I think, but an imposter is possible.” And with this broadside, Diamond Tiara began to eat her cupcake.
It was a delicious looking cupcake and a ridiculous statement. “What?” Celestia asked. “An illusion? Like… like magic? Who casts it? Why cast it? And what makes that so certain?”
“Well, first off, think about the Princess. She’s a pony, right? But she can’t be. Ponies aren’t immortal,” said Diamond Tiara, clicking her tongue.
“She could just be very long lived,” Celestia said quickly. She did not explain that being ageless and immortal were different because it would have been pedantic and also she would have been explaining it to a very kickable child.
Diamond Tiara mulled this over, to her credit, but then shook her head. “Nope. Everyone says she’s immortal, so it’s common knowledge. I have that one. So, she can’t be a pony because real ponies aren’t immortal. Also, the sun. She’s like, the sun but also like a pony? You can’t be a pony and be the sun. That’s just dumb.”
“She isn’t the sun. She simply raises the sun.”
“But that makes even less sense. I mean, really? I may not be a unicorn but even I know raising the sun is kind of a crazy idea. It’s just as likely that Celestia is just an illusion the sun makes to talk to ponies. Why talk to ponies? Easy! So she can watch when the sun inevitably burns everything to a crisp.” Diamond Tiara narrowed her eyes. “I don’t trust the sun. Nopony should. I had sunburn once that was so bad that I couldn’t lay on my back for weeks. Only something evil could do that.”
Celestia opened her mouth.
“But even if she isn’t the sun for real, she’s been around for sooooo long that she can’t really have like a real brain anymore. It’s gotta be mush. She’s been raising the sun for so long that she’s really just a sun-raising machine that smiles on auto-pilot. I mean, have you seen her? I have, a few times, and let me tell you: no real pony smiles like that.” She looked off to the side. “I mean, smiling in general is kind of suspicious. I mean, who smiles all the time? Weird. Also fake, like your cutie mark and Miss Rarity’s mane extensions.”
“That seems a bit bleak,” managed Celestia, shrinking.
“If you did the same thing every day for like, ever, wouldn’t you be that way? Think about it. Anyway, it’s not the only theory. I also think she might just be a really tall unicorn with mechanical wings.”
Somehow, this was better. Less personal. Celestia felt a weight that she had only been partially aware of shift off her chest. “Well, that seems like it could be proven objectively. Or, rather, falsified,” she said, and her mentor’s smile returned. It immediately vanished, with Celestia painfully aware of it. “Have you ever seen a wing prosthetic? They are quite noisy compared to real wings, and aren’t very easy to hide. It would be quite an achievement if even the Canterlonian nobility could disguise such a device.”
Yes! A point scored.
“Yeah, I know. That’s why it isn’t very likely.” Tiara finished her cupcake. “Pinkie! Another!”
“Yupperooni!” Another cupcake was produced, just as delicious looking as the one before.
Diamond Tiara continued imperiously. She did most everything imperiously. “But the idea still stands. Magical illusions or prosthetics, acting or something else… it’s obviously either an illusion of the sun or a plot by Canterlot nobles to enslave the common ponies of Equestria in a stagnant political and economic situation where there is no meaningful chance of advancement or innovation.”
Celestia blinked.
“Where did you…?”
“Oh that? Daddy drinks the gross brown stuff sometimes and he said that a few nights ago. But he’s totally right.”
Celestia blinked again. She decided, wisely, not to address this statement or even to think about it too closely at all. “Why do you really think that Celestia isn’t real, little one?” she asked.
Celestia wasn’t entirely sure that she was still awake. Luna had played this prank before, where a normal day twisted bit by bit into absurdity. She tried to recall what she had been doing before she had been on the road… and no, no she remembered everything. This was certainly not a dream that Luna had built.
“You’ve seen her right?”
“Well, yes,” Celestia said. It occurred to her that Pinkie had brought her tea a long time ago and it was getting cold, yet she could not bring herself to touch it.
At first, she had just been entertaining this filly, but now she felt… strange.
“I have too. And she always looked way, way too happy.” Diamond Tiara leaned in. “Always smiling, always lying. She wasn’t real, you know? I mean, think about it.”
“I’m… attempting to.”
“Look at what she does. I mean, she puts up with super lame ponies allll day long every day forever. She’s patient and smiley about everything no matter what. She talks like she’s everypony’s mom, even though no one can tell me for sure if she’s ever even been a mom! Already talked about the whole immortal thing. Would a real pony do that? Would they be that way? No, a real pony would have lost it and kicked those dumb butts out eventually! Or she would get irritable with ponies! Or she would be, you know, normal.”
Celestia ground her teeth. “Patience is not so… abnormal,” she said carefully.
“And what about Miss Twilight Sparkle!”
The Princess of Equestria blinked. Again.
“What about her?” she said in a strangely flat tone.
“I mean, would a real, not-acting or not-illusion or not-fake pony have put up with her for this long? First, she is so boring. And she’s crazy when she isn’t boring. I mean, would a real pony have put up with her for so long when she’s obviously cracked?” Diamond Tiara asked. “But if she was the sun, she wouldn’t care! And if she were just an actor she might if it made her look all nice and kind!”
Celestia decided that she enjoyed most foals. This foal she did not enjoy. She rose.
“So, you think she isn’t real because she seems fake?”
“Yup.”
“Like my cutie mark.”
“Yup.”
“Well, you’re right about my cutie mark, but I’m about to teach you to watch what you say, my little pony. Pinkie? Would you so kindly lock the doors and obtain an oath of silence from those present?”
“Just you and her and me!” Pinkie replied, already flipping the sign to “closed”. “Already shooed them out.”
“Would you please give me a--”
The cupcake and the tea were gone. A cake had replaced them.
“Already done,” Pinkie said. “It won’t help.”
“Oh, it will.” She looked down at a puzzled Diamond Tiara. “If Celestia is an illusion, she wouldn’t be able to manipulate physical reality. If she were an actor she would not lose her temper. Well, I am a bit peeved.”
Celestia shed her disguise and Diamond Tiara stared at her with wide eyes that at last showed something besides scorn: dismay. It was, frankly, delicious. She did not kick ponies on the list, but she did occasionally put the fear of Tartarus into them and it was just as good.
“Now I ask you. Am I real? Here I am before you.”
“B-but I mean… you were another pony just a second ago… you could be… um… I mean…. it doesn’t prove anything!” The filly insisted, regaining the tiniest modicum of her former defiance.
Celestia pursed her divine lips. “And if I were to prove my reality to you beyond all doubt, you would renounce this… this heresy?”
“Yeah,” Diamond Tiara said, still wide-eyed but suddenly a bit less afraid. And then, suddenly, perhaps it finally occured to her what such proof could entail and she paled. What horrible retribution awaited her? Would Celestia burn her to a crisp? Or maybe burn her house to a crisp? Would she burn all of Ponyville to a crisp?
Diamond Tiara, for all of her talent at picking apart the flaws of things, was rather blind to her own lack of imagination. Also, her concerns mostly involved burning and not having anypony around to give commands to. These are distressing things for any filly. Things from which there is no escape. Being burnt was pretty objectively bad. Not having anyone to order around meant doing things oneself, and that was intolerable. So many minutes wasted, doing her own chores and fetching her own property. The horror chilled her to the bone.
“What are you going to do?” she asked, expecting death or mild inconvenience, which was sort of like death if one squinted long enough and expanded it over a very long time.
“I am going to eat this cake.”
“W-what?”
“This whole cake. I am going to eat it and then you will verify it is all gone,” Celestia said, putting a bit of edge in her imperious voice.”You will see that I am real, for I am not smiling and am not quite as patient. Pinkie, stand back.”
“Already hiding!”
Celestia dove and buried her face with five minutes of repressed divine fury. She ate it all. It was a massacre. Had it been witnessed, the carnage would have scarred most ponies for life. The noises alone might have haunted their nightmares. Celestia didn’t simply eat the cake. She erased it from existence. She made it abundantly clear that she was not an illusion.
And then she looked down at the filly who was probably going to dream of nothing but Celestia’s frustrated eating for the rest of her life.
“AM I REAL NOW?” she asked, thought it came out more muffled than that because of the entire cake in her mouth.
Twilight looked over at the clock in her study and frowned. Princess Celestia was not adhering to The Schedule. Twilight had many such schedules and timetables. Most were immutable. Some were more so. But there always only ever one Schedule with a capitalized S. Twilight was capable of thinking in capito(a?)l letters, and also in parenthesis. These are dangerous talents.
The Schedule was a living document. It was the closest Twilight had to a divinity worth worshipping. It knew no true deviation--for any variation from the divine plan was simply a part of the totality of it. The Schedule, penned by her own hoof by revelation from the gods of Logic and Organizational Skills, did not err. It was, in fact, she who failed to grasp its true intention.
She checked it again.
“I thought for sure that the Princess would be here by now…” she said, and sighed. She wished Spike hadn’t left already for Rarity’s. Alas, but The Schedule had dictated that he must leave in order to assist Rarity with some thing or another. The tabled time gave and took away.
Twilight knew it would be soon, and it wasn’t that she was sad… It was a minor mystery at best. Celestia would arrive (as foretold) and they would have lunch (as foretold) and read books (as foretold) and then there would be dinner and most certainly tea (as foretold). She had planned everything. And that was just today. Tomorrow would be far more busy. It would be a perfect chance to--
The doors to the Golden Oaks did not explode, but they came near to it. In the wake of their rather violent opening, a pegasus lurched forward.
Twilight, who had been sitting at her writing desk by the window, fell out of her chair. She sputtered, attempting to ascertain the stranger’s purpose and intentions, but quickly saw the sun on her flank. Her little magical heart leapt within her.
“Princess! Gosh, I knew you would be walking in any minute! I was… um… I was thinking… Princess?”
The pegasus who was not actually a pegasus did not answer. She did not even seem to notice. She walked with a dazed expression towards the back of the library and mounted the stairs. Twilight, puzzled, followed her.
Step by step she ascended until she came at last to the reading nook and then to Twilight’s bed.
She did not lay on it so much as she simply fell into it. The not-Celestia made a single groaning call for Twilight and then was still. Twilight, for her part, peered into her room with a bit of trepidation.
“Um… Princess?”
“Mrmflf.”
“Are you… are you alright? Did something happen?” A sudden thought occurred to her, and Twilight groaned. “Oh no… did someone recognize you? Princess, I’m so sorry… You can choose a new disguise! I could help you!”
“Mrmrghg.”
“Um… pardon?”
Celestia’s head rose slightly. “Twilight, I am going to ask you a question.”
“O-okay…?”
“You have known me… how long, now?”
“Um, since I was six, so… fifteen years?”
“And in all of that time,” Celestia asked, her voice flat. “Have you ever once thought to yourself that I was not real?”
“I… I mean, no? You’re pretty obviously real, Princess.”
“Please call me Celestia. I would like to remember I am a pony right now, Twilight.”
“Okay.” Twilight’s voice was small. This was a bit beyond her, she decided. But she had to try and keep up. Celestia needed her faithful student, or just really anypony, and Twilight was anypony.
So it was that cautiously, so cautiously, Twilight approached the bed and sat on it. Her heart beat in her chest with a wild rhythm. Wasn’t this a bit forward? Celestia had requested she be less formal whilst the Princess was in disguise but this…
Twilight laid a hoof lightly on Celestia’s back. “Princess? I know it’s probably not my place to ask, but are you alright? If you want to talk…”
Words are hollow most of the time, even when we mean them. Celestia understood this, and so did not fault her student for trying. It made her smile softly.
“I am a bit humiliated and upset and also… I don’t know. I was so excited to finally be nopony that when somepony reminded me of what I’m usually like I… It was not pleasant. They weren’t wrong, really. I do have a lot of fake smiles. I have seven different fake smiles, actually, to varying degrees of internal fury I am holding back. Forget that last part. Actually, no, don’t. It’s probably important.”
“I’ll try to remember.”
“I really do pretend to be more patient than I am, and sometimes I really am bored to tears and pretend to be interested in things just to appease ponies I don’t really personally have any interest in. I wear a mask all the time. So, in a way, that extremely kickable filly was completely right. Also, I may have scarred her for life.”
Twilight blinked.
“Was she pink, this kickable foal?”
“Garishly so. It offended me.”
“Right. Tiara on her head?”
“It was actually not a bad tiara.”
Twilight nodded sagely with understanding. “And now it makes sense.” And then it occurred to her what she had just said. “No it doesn’t. You mean, you were bullied by a filly?”
“Yes. Thank you for saying it just like that.”
“Well, for what its worth, I think you’re real.”
“Twilight, this has been an incredibly stupid day.”
“Yeah, from your description, I’d agree. You could salvage it, you know.”
Celestia rolled over, flared her wings, and whined at the ceiling in the least regal manner possible. “I even proved it!”
“How?”
“I…” She shifted. “Well. Mostly I proved it by eating an entire cake in a single bite to prove it was all gone. So I was real and physical. It was spur of the moment. Pinkie helped.”
“Of course she did,” Twilight said, accepting this as she accepted all Pinkie Pie related facts: with the mute grace of the damned. “What did Diamond Tiara say?”
Celestia grumbled.
“I didn’t catch that, Princess.”
“Celestia.” Celestia grimaced. “She told me that no real pony could eat a whole cake in one bite, and then I think I opened the door and I may have punted her into the street.”
Twilight Sparkle gasped.
“I caught her! I swore I caught her!” Celestia said, waving her legs. “I also may have erased the memories but… Twilight, this is why I need a vacation.”
Celestia rose, shook her mane out, and hovered out of the room with a loud cry. “It’s lunchtime! Right! No more stupidity!”
Twilight Sparkle looked down at her bed and asked it a question.
“Wait. How would you fit a whole cake in your…”
Author's Note
I like to think that Twilight graces a lot of lists seeing that she is the goddess of lists
This fic is dedicated to KitsuneRisu because the writing process of this fic was basically "If I were Risu and I were going to write nonsense what sort of nonsense would I write" and the answer was "the Cyne/Risu amalgam would obviously write a story about Celestia punting a grade school child"
