‘– and once the elephant had stolen the marshmallows,’ said Luna enthusiastically, ‘he sat on one so as not to fall into his hot chocolate! Upon discovering this, the ringmaster jumped off a bridge.’
‘And?’ said Celestia.
‘He died.’
‘Is that it?’
‘Well, yeah.’
Celestia frowned as she stepped off the wagon. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘Exactly!’ said Luna, clambering over the side. ‘That in itself is a punchline!’
‘But that wasn’t funny at all!’ said Celestia. ‘Your delivery was a mess – nonsensical at best, as was the content!’
‘I expected you wouldn’t appreciate my unique brand of haphazard absurdism.’
‘A convoluted way to confess to comedic ineptitude!’
‘Because you’re so witty, Sister!’
‘I made no such claim!’
They walked, hoping not to draw attention to themselves. A paparazzi Q&A would end poorly under the circumstances, what with the shifty briefcase and green sand they were carrying. Not to mention it was past anypony’s bedtime, even Luna’s. Sure, that made it unlikely they’d be seen, but you never knew with these sorts.
‘The way I see it,’ said Luna, lowering her voice, ‘you’re just jealous of my talent.’
‘Coming from!’
Luna waved a hoof dismissively through the air. ‘I was young then!’
‘The scent of hypocrisy is combing my nostrils!’
‘All right, Madame MacCaig!’
They reached Twilight’s library, inside which no doubt the latter was sleeping.
‘Oh, please, please, please!’ Twilight looked as though Hearth’s-Warming had been cancelled.
‘No,’ Celestia said firmly. She gave the book a withering look. ‘It’s been out of print for centuries, and there’s a reason for that, may I remind you. You aren’t reading a word.’
Celestia snorted. Well, she thought, Twilight was due exactly what she’d wished for. She opened the door without knocking. Spike was there already, awake on a furry rug.
‘She’s in bed,’ he whispered. ‘I did as you asked. She’s taken the potion.’
‘Here,’ said Celestia, tossing him the sand box. ‘You know where to put it.’
Spike nodded and sprinkled sand in circles directly beneath the ceiling under Twilight’s bedroom.
‘But it’s the only copy left in Canterlot!’ pleaded Twilight. ‘It would be against my morals not to experience such a gem! How bad can it be?’
‘Twilight,’ said Celestia, ‘there may well come a time when – when – oh, it’s just –’ She bit her lip. ‘Do you know, if I could, I’d let you. But –’ She sighed as Twilight’s eyes widened further. ‘All right,’ she said, ‘but on my terms. On my terms, you hear? This is for your own good.’
Twilight leapt into her arms.
Celestia worked her mouth, but smiled. She knew that, despite awful, really, this moment would gratify her. She knew so and wondered whether that made it worse.
‘Well,’ she said to herself, ‘you asked for it.’
Twilight’s silhouette was wrapped loosely in blankets and snoring. The moon shone suddenly fierce through the window, and Luna laughed. Her horn stopped glowing.
‘Let’s really have some fun,’ she said as the light sharpened Twilight’s features tenfold.
Luna opened the briefcase and tipped its contents into Celestia’s outstretched hooves. The sneeze powder-gilded book fell out.
‘Brace yourselves,’ said Celestia as her nose twitched. Both she and Luna atchooed violently. Twilight did not wake, however.
‘All right, let’s begin.’ Celestia sniffed and opened the book.
BLACK STORIES COLLECTION – TO PREPARE YOUR SONS AND DAUGHTERS FOR ALICORNHOOD, TO SCARE CHILDREN INTO LINE
‘Let’s hope it does only the second,’ said Celestia. ‘I wonder whether her character can take it.’
Spike entered. ‘Sand’s ready.’
‘Good,’ said Celestia. ‘Luna?’
Luna’s horn glowed again. ‘Done.’
‘Good, excellent.’ She skimmed the contents, then turned to page eleven. She cleared her throat. ‘Once upon a time –’
‘Oh, don’t start like that!’ said Luna. ‘It’s hopeless already!’
‘Can’t you just listen?’ said Celestia. ‘Please?’
‘Fine, fine.’
‘Once upon a time there lived a filly whose name was Fickle Wings.’
‘Dang,’ said Luna loudly. ‘I’d have got that changed first thing.’
‘Quiet!’ hissed Celestia. Twilight shifted in her bed. Luna mouthed an apology, and Celestia continued.
‘A filly whose name was Fickle Wings. She was a little filly, as innocent as a lamb and as delicate as a daisy.’
‘Cliché,’ whispered Luna.
‘Fickle Wings lived in a small town called Trust. The citizens of Trust – well, they trusted each other. Greatly.’
‘Lame.’
‘Perhaps so. Nevertheless, they did. In Trust, everypony trusted everyone. They had no reason not to, for in Trust there hadn’t been a crime committed for generations. No one fought, no one stole, and the citizens did their best to keep it that way.
‘And Fickle Wings, being a child of Trust, was no different. She would never squabble, let alone fight. She would never sneak a biscuit from her mother’s cookie jar, let alone steal.’
‘Gee,’ said Luna. ‘This place sounds fun.’ Spike giggled.
‘I shall ignore the sarcasm,’ said Celestia. ‘Yes, Fickle Wings lived in the perfect town, whose perfect citizens did pose no threat to anyone or anything.’
‘Don’t think I heard this one when I was her age,’ said Luna. ‘I can see why. Black story? It’s a fluffy tale!’
‘Oh, it gets better, don’t you worry,’ said Celestia. ‘Father read this to me without warning before bed one night. Potion and everything, the full effect. I’ve never been the same since. And I suppose we should expect similar with Twilight here, albeit we’ve arranged a suitable buffer.’
Spike poked his head around the corner. ‘Yep, it’s glowing strong. Who needs the Sandman? We’ve got ourselves a dreamcatcher!’
‘Exactly,’ said Celestia. ‘Still, she’ll feel its weight, make no mistake. I’ll try not to enjoy myself too much. Anyway. Back on track.
‘Fickle Wings, like all the fillies and colts of Trust, attended the local school, which at the time was headed by one Miss Opendoor. Although inexperienced, Miss Opendoor was a competent teacher much loved by her pupils. During the summer when it was too hot to study indoors, she would teach outside in the playground. In winter when it was too cold, she would make the children cocoa and read them stories. Miss Opendoor wasn’t prone to favouritism, but she adored Fickle Wings. Anyone would. She was the kind of engaging child ponies dreamed to have.’
‘Fickle Wings likes her teacher, and her teacher likes her. Got it.’
‘My, Luna, you’re paying attention? Whatever next?’
‘Yeah, I’m getting into this.’ Luna nudged Spike. ‘You?’
Spike shrugged.
‘So,’ said Celestia. ‘On one particularly hot summer’s day, Fickle Wings and her classmates – all of whom are being supervised by Miss Opendoor, who’s sitting in the shade of the schoolhouse – are playing hide-and-seek. Now mark this, as it’s important. One enthusiastic colt chooses to hide in a bush down by the playground entrance. Seconds later he’s galloping towards Miss Opendoor, crying.’
‘Crying?’ said Luna.
‘You heard me,’ said Celestia. ‘Galloping towards Miss Opendoor, crying. “Whatever is the matter, dear?” she asks. “Over there, Miss Opendoor, by the bushes!” replies the colt. “A stranger wearing a mask! A horrible mask!” Miss Opendoor, startled, consoles the colt. She walks over to the bushes. And she sees him.’
‘Who?’ asked Spike as Twilight shifted again.
‘The stranger,’ said Celestia. ‘And just as the colt said, he’s wearing a mask. A large, round, shining porcelain mask – faceless, except for the eyeholes. And he isn’t moving. He’s just standing there, behind the bushes. Standing there, doing nothing.’
‘Weird,’ said Luna.
‘Oh, it gets weirder. Listen.
‘Miss Opendoor stares at him. And as you can no doubt guess, he stares back at her. Confused, Miss Opendoor nods politely, then returns to her pupils. An hour later the parents collect their children, and Miss Opendoor locks the schoolhouse. She goes home.’
‘And the stranger?’ asked Luna.
‘No sign of him,’ said Celestia in hushed tones. ‘Vanished, like a bad dream. The next day, during breaktime, Miss Opendoor takes her pupils out to play. And this time they’re playing tag. Do you know what happens next?’
‘What?’ said Spike.
‘A filly runs to Miss Opendoor, crying. “Are you all right, dear?” she asks. “Did you fall?” “Behind the bushes, Miss! He’s behind the bushes!” Once again Miss Opendoor walks over to the bushes. And he’s standing there, wearing that same mask. The stranger she’d seen at that exact spot yesterday. Standing there, doing nothing.’
Luna frowned. ‘What does she do this time?’
‘For the first time in her life,’ continued Celestia, ‘Miss Opendoor experiences a very particular doubt. Questions form in her mind. Strange questions. Questions the citizens of Trust never asked, nor answered. “What’s this fellow doing here?” she thinks. “This is my schoolhouse. These are my grounds. So why is he here? Is he waiting for someone? Is he a parent?” While these questions niggle away, she’s staring at the stranger, and he’s staring back, motionless.’
Twilight made a sound. Luna and Spike turned to stare, and Celestia paused, waiting.
But nothing more happened.
‘Getting there, I think,’ she said. ‘Spike, check the glow.’
‘It’s high!’ he said a moment later. ‘She must be squirming inside her own head!’
‘After five minutes of this,’ said Celestia, ‘Miss Opendoor nods politely, then returns to her pupils. An hour later the parents collect their children, and Miss Opendoor locks the schoolhouse. She goes home.’
‘Again? Sister, I applaud your enthusiasm, but this is dragging on.’
‘Aren’t you going to ask me about the stranger?’ said Celestia.
‘I thought I already had.’
‘Do so again, then.’
‘All right,’ said Luna, ‘I’ll humour you. What about the stranger?’
‘No sign of him. Vanished, like a bad dream. The next day, during breaktime, Miss Opendoor takes her pupils out to play. This time they’re playing stick-in-the-mud. Do you know what happens next?’
‘And I thought I was getting into it.’
‘Luna!’
‘OK,’ said Luna, sighing. ‘What happens next?’
‘Nothing,’ said Celestia. ‘An hour later the parents collect their children, and Miss Opendoor locks the schoolhouse. She goes home.
‘The next morning, Miss Opendoor wakes early. It’s Saturday, and she decides to go for a walk. She passes through the bakery. Mr Strudel –’
‘Excuse me?’ said Luna, snorting. ‘“Mr Strudel?” Are you serious?’
Celestia ignored her. ‘Mr Strudel – quiet! – says hello. Miss Opendoor buys a bun and automatically makes for the school grounds. She’s happy. She’s smiling. She starts to whistle to herself. And then…’ She paused. Luna blinked.
‘And then?’
‘“Miss Opendoor!”’ said Celestia. ‘“We can’t find her! We can’t find her anywhere! Can we stop now?” Miss Opendoor tilts her head in confusion. “Child, what are you –?” She stops as three more of her pupils trot toward her, laughing. “We give up, Miss Opendoor. He said you’ll tell us where she is if we can’t find her.” “Tell us, Miss Opendoor, tell us!” “Yes, tell us!” Miss Opendoor gasps. “Really, what nonsense! Who said? Speak to me, child! Who are you trying to find?” “Fickle Wings, Miss! He said you’d know where she is!” “Who told you that? Who, child, who?”’
‘Mmn.’
Twilight moaned again, then tossed her head, her eyelids twitching.
‘I can’t wait!’ said Twilight. ‘I can’t wait!’
‘Now,’ said Celestia, handing her the vial, ‘remember to drink this with your supper. Luna and I will cushion the feedback, but it’s going to be rough. You’ll be asleep, so your mind shan’t react quite so forcefully. These stories are for alicorns. You can’t be so exposed.’
‘Oh, I can’t wait!’
Celestia chuckled.
‘What?’ said Luna and Spike together.
‘Oh, nothing.’ She found her place on the page and read on.
‘As you have no doubt guessed, Miss Opendoor is panicking now. Forcing herself to speak as though the exact opposite is true, she tells the foals not to give up yet. The foals, albeit disappointed and a little confused, heed her and continue their search. Miss Opendoor sprints to Fickle Wings’ home. She knocks on the door, which is opened promptly by Fickle Wings’ father. “Hello there, Miss Opendoor! How’d the slumber party go? I hope my daughter and her friends haven’t wrecked your lovely schoolhouse!”’
Luna whistled softly. ‘This is going somewhere. And I mean somewhere.’
Spike was looking Twilight anxiously up and down. Celestia smiled. ‘Check the glow, Spike.’
‘It’s nearing maximum!’ he said seconds later. ‘Really bright! Is – is this safe?’
‘Of course it is,’ said Celestia. ‘If the glow is as you say, then we’ve nothing to worry about. Our barrier is blunting her dream. The potion’s also doing its job, yes, but it’s not nearly as effective about it. We’re doing well.’
‘Come on, then!’ said Luna eagerly. ‘I want to hear what happens!’
‘It’s coming,’ said Celestia. ‘It’s coming.
‘Now Miss Opendoor is very scared. And she’s hit upon a terrible suspicion. But a lifetime of Trust-instilled trust prevents her from believing herself. She runs to her schoolhouse. She knows why but, like her ancestors before her, lacks the capacity to accept such reasoning without concrete evidence.
‘The playground is as she left it – empty, tidy. The schoolhouse, now that’s another thing. She runs up to the door, she tries the handle.’
‘It’s open!’ said Luna. Spike’s eyes were wide.
‘No,’ said Celestia.
‘No?’ said Spike and Luna.
‘The door is locked. Everything, everything she can think of – it’s all in order. But she cannot throw out the thoughts. The thoughts connecting the dots. The thoughts explaining why her pupils are out searching for the missing filly, the thoughts explaining what the latter’s father said. And she finds herself walking. And you know where.’
Luna shrugged, but Spike answered.
‘The bushes,’ he said quietly. Celestia nodded.
‘Indeed.’
Twilight coughed, then shuddered.
‘And behind the bushes, just sitting there, doing nothing, exactly as before –’
‘The stranger!’ said Luna, gasping.
‘Fickle Wings?’ said Spike hesitantly.
‘No. Only you are right – they are who she expected to see. But what she sees is… this.’
Celestia held out her foreleg.
‘And beside it is this.’ She stuck out the other. ‘Into which has been cut shapes and crosses. And this.’ She pointed to her chest. ‘Slightly charred in places. And this –’ She pointed to her ear. ‘And a bit of this as well.’ She touched her mane. ‘A bloody heap. But no more. And no more Fickle Wings, that’s for certain. Nor a stranger.’
Twilight whimpered. The green glow had made it into the bedroom. Celestia smiled sadly.
‘But in front of the pile, as I was just saying, lying there, doing nothing, without a face on which to sit…’
She brushed her face. No one spoke.
‘The mask,’ she said quietly. ‘The shining, porcelain mask. Untouched. Spotless. Alone. Glinting gently in the morning sun. And Miss Opendoor stares at it, and the mask stares back.’
Spike gulped. Luna puffed her cheeks.
‘And ever since that day,’ concluded Celestia, ‘she and all the citizens of Trust, her dearest, closest friends, her pupils, her acquaintanceship, all of them – not a one would ever trust the same again. Ever.’ She caught Luna’s eye. ‘Oh, life continued, of course, and there were friendships made and lives lived out happily. That still happens today. But none of them trusted the same again, and no one has ever since. Not you or me. Not anypony.’ She smiled and closed the book. ‘But we all wear our masks now.’
Twilight’s entire body was shivering ominously, her face contorted, yet still she did not wake. In wake of the ever-strengthening glow she looked horribly ill. Luna stepped back, and Spike said, ‘Oh puddles.’
‘It’s happening!’ said Celestia, stuffing the book back into its briefcase. ‘It’s happening!’
The green light formed a cloud around Twilight’s face, blocking her expression from view. She rose majestically into the air, and then she screamed.
The light vanished, along with the rushing sound of evaporating sand. Twilight hit the bed, alert and breathing heavily.
There was a pause.
‘That,’ she said, ‘was amazing.’
Years later, Celestia watched her ex-pupil bump merrily her newly appointed schoolteachers’ hooves before shooting the breeze with newfound favourite Ms Glimmer. Her wings stood proudly erect, as did her elongated horn atop flowing mane.
There was no doubt about it, thought Celestia to herself. The sweet little princess she’d once had the pleasure of teaching had become a conflict-resolving, power-packing Princess with a capital P. She was a machine and, although exceedingly useful at times, nothing at all as Celestia remembered. Luna clapped her hard on the back as Spike shuffled dutifully in Twilight’s shadow.
‘Proud moment, no?’ said Luna.
‘Mm.’
‘I knew we made the right decision all that time ago.’
‘Mm.’
‘I knew things would end well.’
‘Mm.’
‘Knew she’d come good and prove herself worthy of those flappers in the end.’
‘Mm.’
Luna laughed. ‘You aren’t having second thoughts, are you? Seriously? Now?’
Celestia considered. ‘If I’d known what that book would do to her, I’d have said no a lot more forcefully. The impact it’s had on Equestrian history. And look at this. A school of friendship? With Twilight, the Amazon herself, in charge?’
‘It’s good, eh?’
Celestia watched warily as Starlight burst into laughter. ‘If those two move to overthrow either of us, we’ve got each other’s backs, yes?’
Luna smirked. ‘Of course, Sister. Of course.’
‘As for the book, I’ve stowed it away in a safe place. Those black stories aren’t for everyone. Thinking about it now, we were barely ready ourselves. Look what it did to you.’
‘I know,’ said Luna soberly. ‘Out of curiosity,’ she added, ‘where exactly did you put it?’
‘A secret compartment in that old castle of ours,’ muttered Celestia once ensuring the coast was clear. ‘You know, in the forest. I’m sure no one will ever get to it there.’
‘You think so, huh,’ said Luna. Starlight laughed again, and Twilight joined in.
‘It’s that,’ said Celestia, indicating the chuckling pair. ‘I don’t like that.’
‘You know,’ said Luna, ‘I suppose I’m with you there. Let’s hope we don’t get a Nightmare Twi or a Starbreaker, I don’t think I can handle any more.’
Celestia nodded grimly. ‘Let’s pray.’
