Having never been breathed for a full century, not since the very last war to require the lonely chamber's use was fought and won, a staleness clung to the air that made the walk from the lush, open fields of the outside world and through the dank stairways to one of Canterlot's deepest, most hidden planning rooms all the more distant. With the light of the sun many miles of stair away, the dank bricklaying that lined the walls and dusty carpeting along the floor welcomed the flame of Celestia's torch like sleeping eyes cracking open, lids that were crusted over for hours cracking apart to meet the sting of morning's light.
The room never saw a single smile in its minimal use, and beyond today, it still wouldn't. All it knew up until then were the ugly frowns and scowls of the realities Celestia tried so hard to hide from her ponies, mainly those of the coldly spoken strategies of war, but it wasn't the anger of battle that swept in through the door when it was creaked open. It was an emptiness, one even more hollow than before the orange light of a flame wandered in to suck out the darkness. It was a silence that filled the chests of the most company the room would ever know as four quietly scuttled inside, sixteen hooves clopping along the floor that wasn't mixed with any of the usual chit-chat their owners would normally share.
Splotches of yellow, blue, purple, and a pale green mixed in with the orange glow shining on the walls as their owners magically swept off the cobwebs and dust caked around the four seats huddled around the room's main table. One by one, each quietly sat down, the sun, moon, love, and magic. Light, darkness, emotion, and energy, the very elements of life itself, but now all one of the same, their pasts all left behind in favor of their awkward glances to one another.
Ponies in mourning.
Celestia sucked on her lower lip, debating whether to begin with a speech in regards to the purpose of their meeting, but thought her way out of it. It was better just to get started than to insult the ponies she'd lied to in order to obtain the cold lump wrapped in blankets that sat on her lap, now but a single hieroglyph to a dying generation only one last heartbeat away from its end, having already been accepted as extinct by every pony else in the world. To claim the last for themselves felt like felt like one of the many, many reluctant lies Celestia told to the ponies who so loved and respected them, but all she sought now was a peaceful, quiet goodbye. To tell the truth would only imply petty bargaining and angry demands for their own share, all but bitter delay for a good, quiet departure to a beloved good.
It was a funeral, after all.
All at the same time, the other three leaned in as Celestia gently laid the bundle down on the table and unfolded the corners, a kitchen knife slipping off of the brown-skinned crop inside and clattering onto the wood. The four didn't breath as all stared at it, absorbing the knowledge that they would be the very last ponies to witness and cast demise onto a potato. The sun princess herself stopped breathing at sight of the crop; once news got out, the cease of a potato's ability to sprout roots to the magical energies of the world's soil, Celestia knew. She only spared her citizens the privilege of announcing first before going to the marketplace, fetching her last rations of the rapidly depleting spuds amongst all the other ponies crowding in the aisles and registers to catch their last fill. It took hours to search, squinting at every individual potato in the bins to find the right one, the one that would properly send out the last meal one would ever come to know. It held a large, decent weight that felt nice and fresh beneath its rough outer skin, plenty to feed for four alicorns who were hoping to relish in their last chance to meet its flavor. Much like the room around them, it saw little light under Celestia's wing, held all bundled up and hidden away in the safe she trusted with her most entrusted possessions, the last light it would ever see not that of the sun that grew it into what it was.
Celestia spared it one last look of its pure, natural form, at the eyes dimpling its exterior, its lumpy shape, and the light-brown hue of its crust, then summoned a field of magic to lift it and the knife up off the table. She weighed it with her thoughts, turning it around a few times to estimate where to cut to ensure four identical slices, picturing the lines traveling through for the knife to follow. Turning the knife so its sharp edge and the potato's face met, she tried not to shake as she mentally brought the two of them together, hesitating before the skin and metal could make contact.
Across the table, all three of the others could feel the potato being sliced in half as Celestia proceeded and cleared through the ancient spud, her courage increased enough to make the second slice far easier, the third taking no effort. Their ears all flicked at the sound of the potato's segments being pulled apart, Celestia shutting her eyes as she handed them each their own portion.
"Take of it what you will." She muttered softly, the facade of a majestic ruler absent from her tongue.
Twilight was the only one who gave a nod of her head and a shy 'thank you' before all four rose off their seats, slowly carrying their shares with them into the planning room's kitchen.
When the alicorns all sat down again, four extra rinds of warmth hung around in the chamber, wafting into trails of steam that clung onto their dishes. Once again deciding to remain quiet, the four only paused to look around, curious as to what their fellow princesses had chosen for their absolute last experience with a potato, but only glanced long enough as to not be tempted from their own choice of meals. It was when she was just about drawn to Celestia's meal that Luna raised her fork, and on command, the rest tucked in their napkins and pulled in their plates, preparing themselves to eat.
Using her magic to command the spoon to move, Celestia delicately skimmed off the surface to a warm bowl of mashed potatoes, blowing the hot steam away before nibbling into its warm, buttery starches. It was a recipe older than herself and carried a flavor so distinct that it filled her mind with memories dating back to when she was but a little filly trying to exert her magic by squeezing it from her horn. It tasted like the dates of so many holidays, birthdays, or just those sort of sad, rainy days where she needed a bit more help to feel some kind of warmth in her belly, back when their mother was still around to smile as her kin's world became that much more comforting thanks to her cooking.
Luna bit into a more solid, flaky crust, feeling the more hearty and meaty taste of a hash brown fall onto her tongue. It didn't bring her back to childhood like Celestia was with her meal, but it still sated her with a warmth she hadn't felt for so long until recent years. It was a meal that hadn't existed until after her imprisonment, one of the very first curiosities she explored to the world that thrived and prospered for a thousand years beyond her watch. It brought her back to a time when she wasn't Luna, the shy loner who only lived by hobbling after the fame and successes of Celestia, nor Nightmare Moon, the ruthless monster who yearned to snuff the light out of all of ponykind, but Princess Luna, the kind, noble mare who had the ability to rule the kingdom in tandem with her sister.
Cadance's first crunch was only mired by the faintest giggle. Salt and vinegar truly was her favorite kind of potato chip, the kind she would leisurely snack on when chatting with friends back at high school, an age where all the major concerns she faced were fussing over makeup, excitedly writing in diaries, and trying to hold in her laughter as she stuck her head out the window in the middle of the night, plenty charmed despite Shining's horrendous guitar playing melding with his even worse singing whenever he felt like serenading her beneath the light of the moon.
But if Cadance's meal was interrupted by a snicker, it was a whimper that escaped from Twilight as she bit into a smiley fry, briefly having to remember her training in resisting the urge to cry at the memories it brought back. It didn't take her back in time as much as it did fill the decayed air with such colors and sound, all hues and pitches still so vivid in her mind. For that first bite, she wasn't tasting a pleasantly fried snack, but the squeakiness of Pinkie's voice as she laid a steaming plate of them down for all six of them to snack on. She could taste the warm tartness of the cider Applejack would set down on the table and the crisp air of Fluttershy's cottage surrounding them, peppered by the rasp In Rainbow's voice as she told jokes and the glimmer in Rarity's as she chortled over local gossip.
She shut her eyes, waiting to chew again. As full as her bowl still was, as long as that initial punch of flavor was still on her taste buds, then she wasn't in the palace's most private room, surrounded by her co-rulers. As far as she was concerned, she was still in Sugarcube Corner, Applejack's farm, Rainbow's home, or anywhere else that may have once rang with the laughter and love from the five other ponies who shaped her more into the mare she was today than any monster, trauma, or accomplishment as a princess ever could.
Not paying any attention to the seconds ticking by, the most conversation the four shared through their meals was made through occasional glances and the clattering of utensils, allowing one another the chance to stew in their memories. All four stalled in their bites, letting the flavor in each last for as long as it could before tasting more, scrutinizing how much of their meals were left with every spoonful or crunch they made.
Of course, as long as there could try to make it, Celestia inevitable ate the very last skim of mashed potatoes off the bottom of her plate. Soon after, Twilight used the very last of the ketchup on her plate to finish off, having trained herself to always pour the right amount whenever eating condiments with her snacks. Then Cadance licked the last crumbs of her chips from her plate, just as Luna politely wiped her face with a napkin. At what once held a relic of nature, what was once created by the makers for their long, brilliant plan for the world, once sitting in ceramic dishes now absent of anything to serve, the four looked. Not staring, but unfocusing their eyes at the very air in front of them, emptying their minds to narrow in on the dwindling flavors still lingering in their mouths.
...and then, with whatever essence it may have carried beyond its physical shell, the existence of the potato gave way to the black void.
"...I'll handle our dishes," Celestia announced, magically gathering up their plates, but felt a tug from Twilight's.
"Actually, Princess, I'm fine doing it myself." She offered, taking it back.
"Me too, Aunt Celestia. I don't mind." Cadance added.
Celestia looked at them, then to Luna, who silently nodded in agreement.
"Alright...very well, then." She conceded, taking her own plate.
Rising up from their seats, each with an empty plate and an empty stomach, the four all trotted with Celestia in lead for the door, now a party of four that'd entered as five...
