The Glowby WhoHooChaptersChapter 1: KindlingChapter 2: IncalescenceChapter 3: Hot StuffChapter 4: Royal FlushChapter 1: KindlingKnock, knock, knock. Twilight Sparkle had just finished reorganizing Golden Oak Library when she heard someone at the door. Hopping with glee, she rushed to entranceway. “Here you are, Miss Twilight,” Derpy Hooves cheerfully announced as she presented the librarian with a small, twine-wrapped package. “Thanks, Derpy!” Twilight grinned and thanked the deliverymare, rushing back inside. She had been waiting all week for Long Wind’s Myths, Fables, and Folk Tales: An Introduction to Obscure Equestrian Legends. Her library, and her own education for that matter, woefully lacked a firm foundation in Equestrian mythology (Twilight had always favored histories grounded in real events, but the librarian in her knew that this was a paltry excuse for not reading). She had ordered this text from a Manehattan bookseller as a way to begin fixing this problem. Looking around, as if to make sure no one was watching, Twilight levitated the book in her magic, telekinetically holding it in front of her face. She quickly flipped through the pages, breathing deeply. Twilight loved the smell of new books almost as much as the odor of old ones. Placing the book down on a table in the reading area and sitting on a comfy cushion, Twilight opened the tome and began to peruse its first chapter. Students of history often wonder: “Where do we come from?” Long before the modern Equestrian nation state, there were tribes, warring groups seeking dominance over each other. Prior to these groups, there were small groups of ponies, clinging to each other in a desperate, seemingly endless search for sustenance and shelter. What we know about our early history comes partly from legends. Ponies would gather together around fires at night, sharing their experiences and trying to make sense of the hostile world. Before these stories were written down in (what we know refer to as) Old Ponish, they were shared orally. Tales would be passed through generations, just as we give our children precious heirlooms today. According to one legend, the story of ponykind extends far into the past, claiming that Princess Celestia is our progenitor. Thousands of years ago, Equestria was covered in wilderness. For centuries, Celestia and Luna wandered through it, sharing each other’s company. Although there were small creatures, the sisters were lonely because there was no one like them. One day, as Celestia raised the sun, she took a piece of the solar fire and brought it to Equus. This was the Glow, a shard of her true power. She placed it in the “heart of the land” (note: literal translation from Old Ponish), and the first ponies began to appear soon after. One should note that the existence of the Glow, like the Alicorn Amulet of other myths, has never been proven. Indeed, scholars have endeavored to— Twilight paused. The last sentence struck her as odd: she knew that the Alicorn Amulet was real from her past experiences with a certain Ms. Lulamoon. She wondered if there was any basis to this “Glow” and whether that meant other old legends were true. Maybe that statue in her garden really was Discord! “Hey, Spike, take a letter for me,” called Twilight to her assistant, who was busy sweeping a corner of the library. “Jeez, Twi, didn’t you write a friendship report two days ago?” moaned the purple dragon. “Yes, but this is about books!” she responded. Twilight cleared her throat and began to dictate. “Dear Princess Celestia, could you tell me more about a magical artifact called the 'Glow?' I read about its legend in a book by Professor Long Wind at the Royal University of Canterlot, but I figured it would be better to ask you directly." After he finished transcribing Twilight’s words, Spike sent the letter off to Celestia in a puff of green flame. Twilight got back to work, for a librarian’s duties never cease! After all, there are always more shelves to dust, reorganization strategies to consider, and card catalogues to adjust. While she and Spike were eating dinner (daffodil salad and topaz, respectively) later that evening, Twilight was still thinking about what she had read earlier. “Hey, Spike,” asked Twilight? “Mhmmgh?” grunted Spike, his mouth full. “Where do dragons come from?” Spike swallowed hard, blushing. “Uh, Twi, haven’t we already had this discussion? Is this a pop quiz? I already know about hemipenes and cloacas.” Twilight’s face flushed. “N-no, not like that!” she stammered quickly. “I mean, where did dragons, in general, come from?” Spike looked at her as if she had grown an extra horn. “Don’t dragons come from the Dragon Lands?” he deadpanned. Twilight chuckled, facehoofing. “Not that literally, Spike. What kind of legends are there about the origins of your species?” Spike thought about her question, munching on a few of the gems on his plate. “I’m not sure I know any stories like that, Twi.” “Why’s that, Spike? Don’t we already have books here on dragons?” “Yeah, but those were written by ponies about dragons, not by drakes themselves. Sometimes I think that I’m more pony than dragon… Sure, I’ve met Garble and some of the others in the Dragon Lands, but I never got to hear them talk about dragonkind, only about themselves. It’s not like I got to interact with other dragons while we were growing up in Canterlot. Don’t get me wrong, I love sharing in pony holidays that celebrate historical legends like Hearth’s Warming Eve and Nightmare Night. But that’s the thing: those are pony events. I’ve never been able to really learn about dragon myths.” Spike looked down at his food, frowning. Twilight felt a deep twinge of guilt. She never realized that Spike considered things this way. She got up from her seat and walked over to him. She hugged the dragon. “That’s okay, Spike. I can get some more books about dragon mythology, and we can study them together. Maybe we can create a dragon holiday for Equestria! How does that sound?” Spike hugged her back, smiling gently. “Thanks, Twilight, that sounds great.” Twilight was glad she purchased Long Wind’s book. If anything, it let her connect with her number-one assistant better. Author's Note This is my first attempt at fanfiction, and it will be a learning process. Feedback is appreciated! Chapter 2: IncalescenceDespite the bureaucratic beehive of some parts of Canterlot Castle, there existed small pockets of quietude in the palace. Princess Celestia, the Solar Diarch and the Custodian of the Day, was currently taking advantage of one such spot, an open balcony overlooking Ponyville to the south. A gold filigree teacup floated in front of her, enveloped in the soft yellow glow of her telekinesis. Celestia took a sip of the brew. It was an aromatic green tea, a present from the visiting Neighponese envoy. The Princess preferred receiving consumables far more than durables. Diplomatic gifts like teas, spices, and candies all had definite lifespans. These goods would either be eaten or drunk by the Royal Family or shared with the castle’s serving staff and guards. Celestia herself preferred giving emissaries and ambassadors apple-based products, ranging from apple dumplings from Appleoosa to gigantic pies from Sweet Apple Acres (simple preservation spells kept these confections in their just-baked form until they were ready for presenting). The purpose of this practice was two-fold: apples represented the agricultural foundation of Equestrian society, and the Crown could directly support farmers. Tea was good. The problem was with tea sets. It was a common practice to gift Celestia with a tea set upon every diplomatic visit. Even artisans within Equestria’s borders would often present Celestia with their new teaware designs. Unfortunately, it was harder for Celestia regift artistic creations like these to her maids and butlers, as the Princess genuinely adored each and every unique piece she received. This sentiment also precluded her from discreetly smashing and discarding extra sets. Over the centuries, Celestia had quietly contracted generations of earth ponies to hollow out space in Canterlot Mountain to store the multitude of teapots and cups. Few passengers on the train cars that circled up the mountain ever knew about the sheer tons of ceramic and porcelain that they passed. As Celestia ruminated on the economics of tea, a greasy odor wafted up to her perch. Sniffing inquisitively, she trotted to the edge of the balcony. Looking below into the courtyard, Celestia saw a Manican food vendor and his cart. He was hawking burritos, quesadillas, and tacos. Already, a long line was forming, and Celestia spied her sister Luna near the front of the queue. Celestia shuddered. She remembered the last time that her sibling had Manican food two months ago: that evening, in the throes of Luna’s indigestion, a massive meteor shower had occurred. The cascading debris, as they fell to Equestria, had been serenaded by what sounded like the cries of a diseased tuba that had just been kicked in the genitals. Celestia made a mental note to procure some antacids for her sister. Suddenly, a puff of smoke erupted near Celestia’s right shoulder, shaking Celestia from her odorous memories. She caught the parchment that fell from the smoke. Ah, it was a letter from her favorite student! As she began reading the draft, her elation fell to dread. Alas, the Princess remembered the Glow, and the toll it had taken on her body. Oh dear, thought Celestia, I’m going to need more antacids. Chapter 3: Hot StuffTwilight teleported herself and Spike off of the speeding train car that they were riding. Princess Celestia's response to her inquiry about the Glow instructed Twilight to get off at the base of the mountain. Celestia's letter to Twilight had been … odd. Normally, the unicorn's teacher was forthcoming with information. However, Celestia's response had been terse, simply instructing Twilight to meet her at a clearing at the bottom of the mountain the next morning. Furthermore, the Princess had instructed Twilight to tell nopony of her trip to Canterlot Mountain. Spike was not a pony, so Twilight allowed him to tag along on the journey. There were no stops on the Ponyville-Canterlot line at the promontory’s base, so teleporting was Twilight’s best idea for a quick exit. When the cast the spell to get off of the locomotive, Twilight failed to consider her own and Spike’s momentum. Thus, when the two reappeared, they found themselves hurtling toward the mountain's sheer rock face. Thinking quickly, Twilight conjured one of Rarity’s fainting divans, using the sofa to catch herself and her speeding companion. “Ah, Twilight, you’re right on time. I see you’ve brought Spike despite my request, but I believe that he can be trusted with the knowledge that I am about to share,” Celestia announced, stepping out from behind a tree at the edge of the clearing. Twilight was surprised: she did not know what could be causing Celestia to act so secretively. Spike was also surprised: he did not know how that tree could hide Celestia’s massive form. Wisely, the young dragon chose to keep this observation to himself. “Princess, what’s this about? Why are you speaking so cryptically?” Twilight asked. “You’ll see in a few minutes, my faithful student,” Celestia replied. “Come, follow me, you two.” The Princess turned toward the blank face of the mountain and walk towards it. Twilight could see a small hole a few feet off of the ground. Celestia bent her head down and inserted her horn slowly into the gap, casting a spell Spike recalled what Twilight had told him during “the Talk,” especially the part about holes, pointed objects, and the need for lubrication in tight spaces. Again, astutely, he chose to keep this thought to himself. Celestia removed her horn, and there was a rumbling sound. A massive rectangular entranceway lowered from the rock, showing the three a hallway (lit with enchanted lanterns hanging from the ceiling) that gradually descended deeper into the earth. Celestia began walking down the corridor, and, after briefly glancing at one another, Twilight and Spike followed her. The group had been walking for 15 minutes when they came upon an ornate red door, decorated with gold swirls. Celestia turned and looked at her guests. She said in a serious voice, “Twilight, Spike, what you see in this room must remain among us. Only Luna, Cadance, and I know what is inside. Promise me that you will keep this a secret.” “We promise, Princess,” replied Twilight. “Thank you, both of you. Now prepare yourselves, as I do not know how mortals will react in the presence of the Glow,” Celestia announced. She opened the door, and they all walked into the Glow’s chamber. It took a moment for Twilight and Spike’s eyes to adjust to the relative dimness of the room. Upon a plinth in the sanctum’s center was a glowing gold artifact. It looked like a radioactive ice cream cone, with a ridge circling around its vertical length. “Holy shit,” exclaimed Spike. “Spike!” Twilight admonished. “Watch your language in front of the princess!” He responded, “No, Twi, I mean it looks like a glowing turd!” Chapter 4: Royal FlushBoth Twilight and Celestia stared at Spike for a few moments, mouths agape. “Spike!” Twilight scolded her assistant. “That is an ancient magical artifact, not a piece of excrement! Plus, Celestia created this from the sun itself. According to Long Wind’s book, this might be the very object that caused the first ponies to—” “He is right, though, Twilight,” Celestia interjected in a quiet voice, her face flushing red with embarrassment. “WHAT?” Twilight and Spike replied as one. “Before I drafted my response to your inquiry about the Glow, I checked Long Wind’s book out of the Royal Library and read the passage that prompted your interest,” Celestia explained. “It turns out that the scholar did not have a proper understanding of the Glow’s creation.” “S-so what really happened, Princess?” Twilight nervously asked. The purple unicorn was not sure that she really wanted to hear anymore, but her internal academic curiosity propelled her further into the bowels of forbidden knowledge. “Twilight, Spike, do you remember the huge meteor two months ago?” Celestia began to explain. Her two companions nodded. “Well, earlier that day, Luna ate three Manican burritos, and her stomach was bothering her. For as long as my sister and I can remember, every time alicorns get indigestion, magical phenomena occur outside of our control. In the case of the Glow, I had eaten some cashews without roasting them. Normally, that would be enough to kill or seriously poison a regular creature, but it only gave me a very bad tummyache. In the process of the resulting … scatological event … I passed the Glow. Within a year, the first ponies began appearing throughout Equestria.” Everything finally clicked together in the unicorn and dragon’s minds. “So … so, you shit out the first ponies?” Spike wondered aloud. Meanwhile, Twilight was just standing there, twitching. Her response was understandable since her whole worldview had just been upended. “In a manner of speaking, yes, that is correct, Spike.” Celestia responded. “Does that mean that every time that ponies use the bathroom, they’re technically creating your grandchildren?” Spike asked, deep in thought. This observation caused Spike and the Princess to begin deliberating for several hours about Equestria’s current citizenship and birth legislation. “What a crappy day!” Twilight finally moaned aloud, as Celestia and Spike’s conversation drew to a close. Fin.
Chapter 1: KindlingKnock, knock, knock. Twilight Sparkle had just finished reorganizing Golden Oak Library when she heard someone at the door. Hopping with glee, she rushed to entranceway. “Here you are, Miss Twilight,” Derpy Hooves cheerfully announced as she presented the librarian with a small, twine-wrapped package. “Thanks, Derpy!” Twilight grinned and thanked the deliverymare, rushing back inside. She had been waiting all week for Long Wind’s Myths, Fables, and Folk Tales: An Introduction to Obscure Equestrian Legends. Her library, and her own education for that matter, woefully lacked a firm foundation in Equestrian mythology (Twilight had always favored histories grounded in real events, but the librarian in her knew that this was a paltry excuse for not reading). She had ordered this text from a Manehattan bookseller as a way to begin fixing this problem. Looking around, as if to make sure no one was watching, Twilight levitated the book in her magic, telekinetically holding it in front of her face. She quickly flipped through the pages, breathing deeply. Twilight loved the smell of new books almost as much as the odor of old ones. Placing the book down on a table in the reading area and sitting on a comfy cushion, Twilight opened the tome and began to peruse its first chapter. Students of history often wonder: “Where do we come from?” Long before the modern Equestrian nation state, there were tribes, warring groups seeking dominance over each other. Prior to these groups, there were small groups of ponies, clinging to each other in a desperate, seemingly endless search for sustenance and shelter. What we know about our early history comes partly from legends. Ponies would gather together around fires at night, sharing their experiences and trying to make sense of the hostile world. Before these stories were written down in (what we know refer to as) Old Ponish, they were shared orally. Tales would be passed through generations, just as we give our children precious heirlooms today. According to one legend, the story of ponykind extends far into the past, claiming that Princess Celestia is our progenitor. Thousands of years ago, Equestria was covered in wilderness. For centuries, Celestia and Luna wandered through it, sharing each other’s company. Although there were small creatures, the sisters were lonely because there was no one like them. One day, as Celestia raised the sun, she took a piece of the solar fire and brought it to Equus. This was the Glow, a shard of her true power. She placed it in the “heart of the land” (note: literal translation from Old Ponish), and the first ponies began to appear soon after. One should note that the existence of the Glow, like the Alicorn Amulet of other myths, has never been proven. Indeed, scholars have endeavored to— Twilight paused. The last sentence struck her as odd: she knew that the Alicorn Amulet was real from her past experiences with a certain Ms. Lulamoon. She wondered if there was any basis to this “Glow” and whether that meant other old legends were true. Maybe that statue in her garden really was Discord! “Hey, Spike, take a letter for me,” called Twilight to her assistant, who was busy sweeping a corner of the library. “Jeez, Twi, didn’t you write a friendship report two days ago?” moaned the purple dragon. “Yes, but this is about books!” she responded. Twilight cleared her throat and began to dictate. “Dear Princess Celestia, could you tell me more about a magical artifact called the 'Glow?' I read about its legend in a book by Professor Long Wind at the Royal University of Canterlot, but I figured it would be better to ask you directly." After he finished transcribing Twilight’s words, Spike sent the letter off to Celestia in a puff of green flame. Twilight got back to work, for a librarian’s duties never cease! After all, there are always more shelves to dust, reorganization strategies to consider, and card catalogues to adjust. While she and Spike were eating dinner (daffodil salad and topaz, respectively) later that evening, Twilight was still thinking about what she had read earlier. “Hey, Spike,” asked Twilight? “Mhmmgh?” grunted Spike, his mouth full. “Where do dragons come from?” Spike swallowed hard, blushing. “Uh, Twi, haven’t we already had this discussion? Is this a pop quiz? I already know about hemipenes and cloacas.” Twilight’s face flushed. “N-no, not like that!” she stammered quickly. “I mean, where did dragons, in general, come from?” Spike looked at her as if she had grown an extra horn. “Don’t dragons come from the Dragon Lands?” he deadpanned. Twilight chuckled, facehoofing. “Not that literally, Spike. What kind of legends are there about the origins of your species?” Spike thought about her question, munching on a few of the gems on his plate. “I’m not sure I know any stories like that, Twi.” “Why’s that, Spike? Don’t we already have books here on dragons?” “Yeah, but those were written by ponies about dragons, not by drakes themselves. Sometimes I think that I’m more pony than dragon… Sure, I’ve met Garble and some of the others in the Dragon Lands, but I never got to hear them talk about dragonkind, only about themselves. It’s not like I got to interact with other dragons while we were growing up in Canterlot. Don’t get me wrong, I love sharing in pony holidays that celebrate historical legends like Hearth’s Warming Eve and Nightmare Night. But that’s the thing: those are pony events. I’ve never been able to really learn about dragon myths.” Spike looked down at his food, frowning. Twilight felt a deep twinge of guilt. She never realized that Spike considered things this way. She got up from her seat and walked over to him. She hugged the dragon. “That’s okay, Spike. I can get some more books about dragon mythology, and we can study them together. Maybe we can create a dragon holiday for Equestria! How does that sound?” Spike hugged her back, smiling gently. “Thanks, Twilight, that sounds great.” Twilight was glad she purchased Long Wind’s book. If anything, it let her connect with her number-one assistant better. Author's Note This is my first attempt at fanfiction, and it will be a learning process. Feedback is appreciated!
Chapter 2: IncalescenceDespite the bureaucratic beehive of some parts of Canterlot Castle, there existed small pockets of quietude in the palace. Princess Celestia, the Solar Diarch and the Custodian of the Day, was currently taking advantage of one such spot, an open balcony overlooking Ponyville to the south. A gold filigree teacup floated in front of her, enveloped in the soft yellow glow of her telekinesis. Celestia took a sip of the brew. It was an aromatic green tea, a present from the visiting Neighponese envoy. The Princess preferred receiving consumables far more than durables. Diplomatic gifts like teas, spices, and candies all had definite lifespans. These goods would either be eaten or drunk by the Royal Family or shared with the castle’s serving staff and guards. Celestia herself preferred giving emissaries and ambassadors apple-based products, ranging from apple dumplings from Appleoosa to gigantic pies from Sweet Apple Acres (simple preservation spells kept these confections in their just-baked form until they were ready for presenting). The purpose of this practice was two-fold: apples represented the agricultural foundation of Equestrian society, and the Crown could directly support farmers. Tea was good. The problem was with tea sets. It was a common practice to gift Celestia with a tea set upon every diplomatic visit. Even artisans within Equestria’s borders would often present Celestia with their new teaware designs. Unfortunately, it was harder for Celestia regift artistic creations like these to her maids and butlers, as the Princess genuinely adored each and every unique piece she received. This sentiment also precluded her from discreetly smashing and discarding extra sets. Over the centuries, Celestia had quietly contracted generations of earth ponies to hollow out space in Canterlot Mountain to store the multitude of teapots and cups. Few passengers on the train cars that circled up the mountain ever knew about the sheer tons of ceramic and porcelain that they passed. As Celestia ruminated on the economics of tea, a greasy odor wafted up to her perch. Sniffing inquisitively, she trotted to the edge of the balcony. Looking below into the courtyard, Celestia saw a Manican food vendor and his cart. He was hawking burritos, quesadillas, and tacos. Already, a long line was forming, and Celestia spied her sister Luna near the front of the queue. Celestia shuddered. She remembered the last time that her sibling had Manican food two months ago: that evening, in the throes of Luna’s indigestion, a massive meteor shower had occurred. The cascading debris, as they fell to Equestria, had been serenaded by what sounded like the cries of a diseased tuba that had just been kicked in the genitals. Celestia made a mental note to procure some antacids for her sister. Suddenly, a puff of smoke erupted near Celestia’s right shoulder, shaking Celestia from her odorous memories. She caught the parchment that fell from the smoke. Ah, it was a letter from her favorite student! As she began reading the draft, her elation fell to dread. Alas, the Princess remembered the Glow, and the toll it had taken on her body. Oh dear, thought Celestia, I’m going to need more antacids.
Chapter 3: Hot StuffTwilight teleported herself and Spike off of the speeding train car that they were riding. Princess Celestia's response to her inquiry about the Glow instructed Twilight to get off at the base of the mountain. Celestia's letter to Twilight had been … odd. Normally, the unicorn's teacher was forthcoming with information. However, Celestia's response had been terse, simply instructing Twilight to meet her at a clearing at the bottom of the mountain the next morning. Furthermore, the Princess had instructed Twilight to tell nopony of her trip to Canterlot Mountain. Spike was not a pony, so Twilight allowed him to tag along on the journey. There were no stops on the Ponyville-Canterlot line at the promontory’s base, so teleporting was Twilight’s best idea for a quick exit. When the cast the spell to get off of the locomotive, Twilight failed to consider her own and Spike’s momentum. Thus, when the two reappeared, they found themselves hurtling toward the mountain's sheer rock face. Thinking quickly, Twilight conjured one of Rarity’s fainting divans, using the sofa to catch herself and her speeding companion. “Ah, Twilight, you’re right on time. I see you’ve brought Spike despite my request, but I believe that he can be trusted with the knowledge that I am about to share,” Celestia announced, stepping out from behind a tree at the edge of the clearing. Twilight was surprised: she did not know what could be causing Celestia to act so secretively. Spike was also surprised: he did not know how that tree could hide Celestia’s massive form. Wisely, the young dragon chose to keep this observation to himself. “Princess, what’s this about? Why are you speaking so cryptically?” Twilight asked. “You’ll see in a few minutes, my faithful student,” Celestia replied. “Come, follow me, you two.” The Princess turned toward the blank face of the mountain and walk towards it. Twilight could see a small hole a few feet off of the ground. Celestia bent her head down and inserted her horn slowly into the gap, casting a spell Spike recalled what Twilight had told him during “the Talk,” especially the part about holes, pointed objects, and the need for lubrication in tight spaces. Again, astutely, he chose to keep this thought to himself. Celestia removed her horn, and there was a rumbling sound. A massive rectangular entranceway lowered from the rock, showing the three a hallway (lit with enchanted lanterns hanging from the ceiling) that gradually descended deeper into the earth. Celestia began walking down the corridor, and, after briefly glancing at one another, Twilight and Spike followed her. The group had been walking for 15 minutes when they came upon an ornate red door, decorated with gold swirls. Celestia turned and looked at her guests. She said in a serious voice, “Twilight, Spike, what you see in this room must remain among us. Only Luna, Cadance, and I know what is inside. Promise me that you will keep this a secret.” “We promise, Princess,” replied Twilight. “Thank you, both of you. Now prepare yourselves, as I do not know how mortals will react in the presence of the Glow,” Celestia announced. She opened the door, and they all walked into the Glow’s chamber. It took a moment for Twilight and Spike’s eyes to adjust to the relative dimness of the room. Upon a plinth in the sanctum’s center was a glowing gold artifact. It looked like a radioactive ice cream cone, with a ridge circling around its vertical length. “Holy shit,” exclaimed Spike. “Spike!” Twilight admonished. “Watch your language in front of the princess!” He responded, “No, Twi, I mean it looks like a glowing turd!”
Chapter 4: Royal FlushBoth Twilight and Celestia stared at Spike for a few moments, mouths agape. “Spike!” Twilight scolded her assistant. “That is an ancient magical artifact, not a piece of excrement! Plus, Celestia created this from the sun itself. According to Long Wind’s book, this might be the very object that caused the first ponies to—” “He is right, though, Twilight,” Celestia interjected in a quiet voice, her face flushing red with embarrassment. “WHAT?” Twilight and Spike replied as one. “Before I drafted my response to your inquiry about the Glow, I checked Long Wind’s book out of the Royal Library and read the passage that prompted your interest,” Celestia explained. “It turns out that the scholar did not have a proper understanding of the Glow’s creation.” “S-so what really happened, Princess?” Twilight nervously asked. The purple unicorn was not sure that she really wanted to hear anymore, but her internal academic curiosity propelled her further into the bowels of forbidden knowledge. “Twilight, Spike, do you remember the huge meteor two months ago?” Celestia began to explain. Her two companions nodded. “Well, earlier that day, Luna ate three Manican burritos, and her stomach was bothering her. For as long as my sister and I can remember, every time alicorns get indigestion, magical phenomena occur outside of our control. In the case of the Glow, I had eaten some cashews without roasting them. Normally, that would be enough to kill or seriously poison a regular creature, but it only gave me a very bad tummyache. In the process of the resulting … scatological event … I passed the Glow. Within a year, the first ponies began appearing throughout Equestria.” Everything finally clicked together in the unicorn and dragon’s minds. “So … so, you shit out the first ponies?” Spike wondered aloud. Meanwhile, Twilight was just standing there, twitching. Her response was understandable since her whole worldview had just been upended. “In a manner of speaking, yes, that is correct, Spike.” Celestia responded. “Does that mean that every time that ponies use the bathroom, they’re technically creating your grandchildren?” Spike asked, deep in thought. This observation caused Spike and the Princess to begin deliberating for several hours about Equestria’s current citizenship and birth legislation. “What a crappy day!” Twilight finally moaned aloud, as Celestia and Spike’s conversation drew to a close. Fin.
