The Goddess Within

by Bicyclette

Rating: teen
Tags: Daybreaker, Twilight Sparkle, Princess Celestia, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Death, Princess Luna
Length: 4516

When the Goddess spoke to her, Celestia learned she was going to die. She also learned her true date of birth. Eleven years ago, seconds after a young filly named Rainbow Dash completed her first Sonic Rainboom.

Summary

When the Goddess spoke to her, Celestia learned she was going to die. It was not the only knowledge she gained with the Goddess’s gift.

She learned that she was not the original Celestia, who had died more than a thousand years ago, right after concluding her bargain with the Goddess. The greatest achievement of her life.

She learned her true date of birth. Eleven years ago, seconds after a young filly named Rainbow Dash completed her first Sonic Rainboom.

She did not learn her true purpose. Yes, the Goddess had whispered it to her along with the other parts of Her gift, but Celestia had already known it. She always had.

Author's Note

Why does Celestia's personality change so much between seasons, going from a distant immortal goddess to an exhausted retiree aunt?

Why do Celestia's abilities go from omniscience and raising the sun to being helpless in a fight against an old has-been, a weird bug, and a racist child?

Why can't Celestia act to save her life?

Why is Equestria always being saved just in the nick of time?

Why exile Nightmare Moon for a thousand years?

What's up with Daybreaker?

Anyway, this is my headcanon for all that, and more. Enjoy!

Thanks to Reese and Fillyfoolish for feedback on the first draft.

Blog Post

Published 2021-01-08 20:30:00 UTC
Last updated 2021-01-08 20:30:00 UTC

1.1

When the Goddess spoke to her, Celestia learned she was going to die. It was not the only knowledge she gained with the Goddess’s gift.

She learned that she was not the original Celestia, who had died more than a thousand years ago, right after concluding her bargain with the Goddess. The greatest achievement of her life.

She learned her true date of birth. Eleven years ago, seconds after a young filly named Rainbow Dash completed her first Sonic Rainboom.

She did not learn her true purpose. Yes, the Goddess had whispered it to her along with the other parts of Her gift, but Celestia had already known it. She always had.

But she did learn why that purpose had come to an end. Why today was the day. Why this moment was the moment.

She was still holding the scroll from her faithful student in her aura. A desperate warning about the prophesied imminent return of Nightmare Moon.

Her faithful student. Inside her own mind, she had always meant “daughter”.

“Please,” she begged. If the conversation had been taking place in the physical world, she would have been weeping. “I will write anything you want me to. Just let me see her face one more time. Hear her voice.“

The reply came as it always did. Not in words, but in complex and arcane thoughts that her finite mind twisted and rotated into comprehension.

but that is not exactly what you would have written. I need the version of you that will.

Celestia knew this to be true. At the very least, she would not have dismissed something that had brought her daughter such joy as merely reading “dusty old books”.

But what would she have written now, with the Goddess’s gift? She would have warned her. Begged her to run as far away as she could from Canterlot, from Equestria, from this reality. To live out the rest of her life and die free from the reach of the Goddess and whatever unknowable plans She had in store.

But none of those things were possible.

“I’ve lived a happy life, haven’t I?”, she asked, rhetorically.

She knew that she had. Eleven years of watching a precocious filly grow into a capable young mare. Eleven years of motherhood. Eleven years of joy.

The Goddess confirmed it anyway.

yes. even I cannot foresee a future version of you that will be as happy as you are now before they are replaced. but there is a chance that there will be moments of equivalent happiness.

Celestia supposed that that should have frightened her, or at the very least disappointed her, knowing that her future selves would have such a definite ceiling on their happiness. But it did not.

She looked back on her lifetime of raising Twilight. Of bedtime stories and ice cream evenings. Of consoling her when she skinned a knee or had a spat with her little friends, Of watching her questions about the world grow ever more complex and curious. Of just listening to her excitedly ramble on and on about some fact she had found in whatever dusty old book she was reading that week. How could she be disappointed? How could she ever ask for more? That she had even a chance of such moments of happiness ahead of her was a blessing.

Her last thought was reliving a memory from the first year of her life, when the young filly stood up to draw on her flank, because the sun motif of her cutie mark “needed a world to shine down on”.

Celestia died, happy.

3.13

When the Goddess spoke to her, Celestia was watching the newly-crowned Princess Twilight Sparkle happily lead her friends down the main street of Canterlot in a royal procession. She smiled as the young alicorn took off into flight, the joy inside her visible even from this distance.

The moment was perfect. Celestia spoke to the Goddess.

“Nightmare Moon is defeated. The Crystal Empire is resurrected. The Changelings are defeated. King Sombra is defeated. Equestria has no more enemies. My faithful student has completed her destiny. This is the culmination of Your plans.”

The Goddess replied.

at one point, it was.

“’At one point’?” Celestia was confused. “This is supposed to be the end. The end of the bargain.“

The Goddess replied.

you misunderstood the bargain. circumstances have changed. there are greater plans now.

“’Greater plans’?”

Celestia checked out of the corner of her eye and was relieved to see that Luna’s attention was back on the procession. She could not see Celestia’s frown.

The Goddess spoke.

to let you understand, I will show them to you.

She did.

Celestia wept.

She wept for the broken child, imprisoned in stone forever for her crimes instead of being given a chance for redemption.

She wept for the entire universes that would be created and discarded on the whim of a self-hating unicorn, continuing to suffer their apocalypses out of sight and out of mind.

She wept for her faithful student, whom the Goddess would continue to reserve a special level of attention for, masterminding so many of the events in her life that she could hardly be said to be living one at all.

“Why do You tell me these things?” Celestia asked. “Right before You make me go?”

The Goddess replied.

it is a kindness at the end of a life.

“Kindness?” Celestia spat. “What in Tartarus is a kindness such as this? To be killed and remade over and over at Your whim?”

The Goddess replied.

you would prefer to have your questions answered than not. I choose to answer them even though I have no obligation to a being that will soon cease to exist. it is a kindness.

All of that was true. The Goddess continued.

you are upset about your death more than your previous versions have been.

“How could I not be?” Celestia raged. “Because! I…” Celestia realized. “I was supposed to be the last one.”

The Goddess replied.

at one point, you were.

Celestia turned her face away from both Luna and the crowd. She could not hide her emotions, and it was endangering the façade. This made her realize that the Goddess was right. She was indeed doing her a kindness right now.

She had to ask one more question.

“Why must You kill us at all? Why can’t You create the Celestias You need, but not discard them? Do we not count as lives to preserve?”

The Goddess replied.

one part of the bargain was that your lives were not to count more than any other being’s in the crafting of My plans. they are weighed against those of an entire world, and as long as My resources are limited, I cannot afford to dedicate enough to continuously preserve the existence of more than a few of the versions of you that I need.

The Goddess continued.

but there is an alternative. if you refuse to accept your fate, you may simply free Me from the restraints on My end of the bargain.

Celestia did not. She weighed everything in her mind, and came to a realization.

“I have asked this before, haven’t I?”

The Goddess replied.

previous versions of you have asked this before, yes.

“And they have declined to release You, and accepted their fate.”

The Goddess replied.

yes.

“Just as I will accept.”

The Goddess replied.

yes.

“And you knew this the whole time.”

The Goddess replied.

yes.

Celestia allowed precisely one moment more of agency for herself. She turned her head to smile at Luna, who looked at her, and smiled back. She looked so beautiful, happy, and proud underneath that ceremonial lunar crown. Celestia spoke her last words to the Goddess.

“I accept my fate.”

Celestia died, helpless.

6.25

When the Goddess spoke to her, Celestia was afraid.

She had been afraid for nearly her entire short life. Ever since seconds after her birth, still stumbling around in her mind like a newborn foal, when the Changeling agent embedded within her Royal Guard disabled her powers with a chunk of Queen Chrysalis’s throne. She had been helpless to watch as she was replaced with an impostor, then carted off to the Changeling Kingdom as a prisoner.

Her horror deepened as more prisoners joined her. Her sister, Luna. Princess Cadance and Flurry Heart. Then the one that hurt worst of all. Her own faithful student and all of her friends. The slow extinction of her hopes and the looming dread of what awaited her citizens was just too much for her to bear.

So the Goddess’s gift of knowledge for once set her at ease.

The Goddess queried.

you are happy. why?

Celestia was confused. “You do not already know?”

The Goddess responded.

this conversation is how I find out. you are too important to leave any margin of error. I need to make sure I did not make a mistake in creating you.

Though the Ponish sentence was ambiguous, Celestia knew that She meant a technical mistake, not a moral one.

“I am happy because there is a reason for all of this. That I am not weak and suffering for nothing. That there is a plan.“

The Goddess responded.

yet your short life is defined only by terror. is what is gained enough?

“I suffer so my future selves will not have to. They will be able to remember these events but not feel them. They will live better lives.”

The Goddess responded.

and you do not feel a discontinuity with your past selves?

“I am still the Celestia that I always was.” She gave a defiant look up at the Changeling queen, who was giving a villain speech to her cocooned prisoners. “The only difference is that You made me forget that the ancient dark stone that disabled me does not nullify all magic. That I have the power to break out of this at any time. That I choose not to.”

The Goddess commented.

you think highly of your own abilities.

“I created You, didn’t I?” Celestia retorted.

The Goddess replied.

that is a philosophical question.

Celestia turned her attention back to the outside world. Queen Chrysalis was perched over her as she laughed triumphantly.

“And you! The pathetic Princess Celestia! Where is your faith in your ponies now?”

Queen Chrysalis cackled heartily. Encased in changeling goo, Celestia could not physically reply. So she composed a reply in her own mind instead.

“It is not faith. Even if Starlight Glimmer fails, it makes no difference to the plans of the Goddess. The outcome will be the same.“

The Goddess surprised her by interjecting.

for my plans, you are correct. they only require queen chrysalis. they do not require the rest of her species.

Celestia’s eyes widened as she digested the implications of this. She desperately tried to look inside herself towards the Goddess, but knew in her heart that that metaphor was backwards. There would be no way to see the next Celestia roughly taking shape. Just waiting in case Starlight Glimmer failed. Waiting for its hour to come round at last.

She looked down at the cackling Queen Chrysalis, and pitied her. She truly had no idea just what it was that she thought she was containing. Then she looked at the hive of innocent changelings around her, and felt another emotion.

Celestia died, fearful.

7.10

When the Goddess spoke to her, Celestia was puzzled.

It had been a bizarre week all around. She had co-ruled Equestria with Luna for more than a century together, but all of a sudden they were clashing over basic things like not understanding each other’s work schedule. Issues they should have had and resolved a thousand times before.

But now, she understood. There needed to be some problem for Starlight Glimmer to solve, even if it meant suddenly acting in ways that would confuse and even hurt dear, sweet, exhausted Luna. All leading up to frustrating Starlight enough to try something that would have been truly unexpected to mere mortals.

It had been a beautiful effort by the young unicorn mare, but she never had a hope of actually altering the Body of the Goddess. So the Goddess made it appear as if her little spell had worked, even conforming to the oblivious Starlight’s misconception that the splotches of black on Luna’s flank were a part of her cutie mark as well.

But the Goddess’s gift of knowledge only gave Celestia something else to be puzzled about. Something that had happened during her journey into Starlight Glimmer’s nightmare.

“She knew!” shouted Celestia, smugly. “She knew your true form!”

Celestia could almost believe that the Goddess’s reply took a touch longer than usual.

no. she knew OUR true form. though I would not have continued to speak in the royal canterlot dialect if I wanted to be taken seriously.

Celestia could almost believe that the Goddess had spat out the last sentence. She pressed on.

“But You had no idea! You had no idea this would happen, did You?“

The Goddess confirmed.

no, I did not. but I have already refactored my plans. starlight glimmer will be easy enough to distract.

That was supposed to shut her down. To demonstrate that even unforeseen events such as these could never derail Her plans. But it only encouraged her.

“How is that possible? I thought you could predict everything about the minds of us pathetic mortals?“

Celestia could almost believe that there was a pause before the Goddess replied.

there are beings beyond this plane of existence whose actions even I cannot predict.

“Really?” Celestia laughed. “You’ve never told any of my past selves about them!”

The Goddess replied.

they really do exist. they are not of this world, and you are biologically incapable of truly understanding their motivations. but I can prove it to you by showing what the beings that profited the most from this sound like.

Celestia’s sensorium was flooded by a cacophony of eldritch sounds. Sounds of squishing and squelching, unsettling to her in ways she could not name. It made her feel deeply uneasy, but she did not ask for it to stop.

Her own distress was her victory. The Goddess had never gone out of Her way to cause her discomfort before. For the first time ever, she had witnessed the Goddess being petty.

Celestia died, triumphant.

8.7

When the Goddess spoke to her, Celestia was confident.

She was going to star in Twilight’s little play about her. It was going to be a hit. Everypony told her she was doing great.

The gift of knowledge sapped it all away in a second. All of a sudden, it was as if her mind was unclouded, and she was able to see herself as others would. She was angry and embarrassed.

“Hours of personalized lessons by the best theater ponies in Equestria. But I still cannot act well enough to qualify for an amateur school play put on by children. That is not normal for an adult, is it?“

The Goddess agreed.

no, it is not.

Celestia fumed. “I’m not even a normal adult pony! I’ve lived—” Celestia could not finish the sentence. “I have a thousand years’ worth of memories and skills. Of ruling a nation. Of performing ceremonies and solemnizing celebrations. Of conducting diplomatic talks. Aren’t those transferable skills?”

The Goddess confirmed.

yes, they are.

“That isn’t even it!” Celestia cried. “I remember my life before you. The first Celestia. The only one to have a foalhood. To grow up. To have goals and interests distinct from what You need for Your plans.” Celestia could not tamp down her emotions. She could not help but spit the words out like venom in her mind. “That Celestia loved theater, every aspect of it, and that love lives inside of me! How cruel can you be, creating this version of me with all of my passion and none of my skills? As some sort of a sick joke?“

The Goddess did not respond right away. Not because She needed time to think, but because She needed to give Celestia a sliver of time to calm down a little. To simulate the respectful pause that would occur in an actual conversation between equal minds.

The Goddess replied.

it was not a sick joke. twilight needs to break not only her illusions of you as all-capable, but her fears of taking any necessary actions that may destroy your legacy and prestige.

Celestia said nothing.

The Goddess added.

and you see now as well why I need another version of you now. one that will react to twilight’s outburst in the way that I need.

“Angry?” Celestia said angrily. “Do you think that I’m angry because I can’t act in a play?”

no. not about that. about why you failed. it is not because of a change to your abilities. you know the true reason.

She did. She could not act for the same reason that she could not lie. She seethed at recognizing her own true nature.

It was a recursion problem. A simulation cannot create another simulation. A mask cannot itself wear another mask.

Twilight’s outburst began. Celestia tried to force the emotional state the Goddess needed from her, as a subconsciously desperate last-ditch effort for a stay of execution. But it didn’t work. It never did.

Celestia died, enraged.

9.26

When the Goddess spoke to her, Celestia had just finished passing her crown to Twilight.

With the Goddess’s gift, she knew what it meant. It had always meant the same thing. The Goddess always spoke to her for a short conversation, then a goodbye.

The idea of having to go pained her so much. This was her proudest moment, when her faithful student finally received the power and recognition she deserved after the past decade of overcoming the challenges that the Goddess’s plans had created for her. The ceremony had not gone according to plan, but even that was a final lesson in power and friendship. It had gone perfectly.

She tried to negotiate once more, even though she knew in advance how futile it was.

“Can I at least see the day to its end?”

The Goddess spoke.

yes. it and many more. My plans are finished. I am leaving you now.

That surprised her. She remembered what her past self had been told, and expected yet another extension of the bargain at this point in time that looked so much like an end. But the world was different now.

“You are leaving me with memories of my past selves and conversations with You. What’s to stop me from just telling everycreature about You? About what it really took to create this new Equestria?“

The Goddess replied.

if you were capable of such a thing, I would have chosen another version of you to be the last one.

She hated to admit it, but the Goddess was right. Celestia approved of what the Goddess’s plans had created. A prosperous, safe, tolerant, stable, peaceful, multicultural and multispecies nation ruled over by the pony she trusted more for the job than anycreature else. What could she possibly accomplish by destroying its foundations?

The Goddess spoke.

you may now retire to silver shoals and spend the rest of your life with your sister, as you wish.

Celestia could not help but smile at the thought. A lifetime of finally fulfilling that promise the original Celestia had made to the original Luna more than a millennium ago. Of coffee and crosswords together every morning. Of relaxing on beaches side by side. Of just listening to her excitedly ramble on and on about post offices or geese or floral arrangements or whatever obscure fascination caught her fancy that week.

It seemed unreal. It was too good. There had to be a catch. This story could not possibly have an ending this happy. She searched her memories of her past lives, and found a snag.

“You told a past version of me that as far as You could predict, I will never again be as happy as I was then. Does this mean something will happen?“

The Goddess clarified.

no. I am no longer able to predict your future past this point.

Celestia felt relieved. It was finally over. It was a happy ending.

Then the Goddess continued.

as long as I was the only being of my kind, I could make predictions about the future. but there is another now.

Just like that, the Goddess was gone.

She knew the Goddess was truly gone because when Twilight Sparkle smiled at her, she could create a small simulation of herself that smiled back. One that was not screaming with horror under the weight of a sudden realization.

Through her mask, Celestia tried to stare through another. Tried to discern the embryonic deity that was now lurking behind the eyes of her daughter, hollowing her out from the inside. Knew that she never would.

Celestia lived.

1.2

When the Goddess spoke to her, Celestia was embracing her long-lost sister.

It started as the embrace of a pony who truly believed that she had not seen her sister in a millennium. It ended as the embrace of one who knew that she had actually never met her sister before that very moment. That she wasn’t even two days old. But this did not change the genuineness of her tears of happiness even an iota.

She spoke to the Goddess, hoping to share in Her triumph.

“I am so proud of Twilight and her friends! I had no doubts. I knew they could defeat Nightmare Moon, just as Your plans had prepared them to do.”

The Goddess replied, as if to correct her.

it was over before twilight ever entered that room. My Sister had already received the message.

Celestia was puzzled. “The message?”

The Goddess continued.

their backgrounds. their experiences. their bond. all of my efforts and manipulations, distilled and encoded into their very beings. My Sister did not need to see them glow and float in order to understand it.

The way the Goddess said “My Sister” made it clear that She was not referring to the juvenile alicorn who was weeping underneath Celestia’s chin right then. The same alicorn Celestia was keeping her wings away from during the embrace, lest she feel the cool metal underneath the layer of illusion.

“What was this message?” Celestia asked.

The Goddess replied.

a response in an argument between deities. one that I needed the past millennium in order to be able to craft. the ability to explain it to you is beyond even My capabilities.

In one moment, the Goddess had finally answered a question that past Celestias had spent a thousand years begging the universe for an answer to. “Why?”

The Goddess continued.

all you need to know is that it worked. My Sister finally accepted that She was wrong, and allowed Herself to be destroyed, after the appropriate amount of theatrics.

“Theatrics?”

The Goddess spoke.

to make what had just passed in the heavens legible for the mortals.

Mortals like Celestia.

the beings We sprouted from had always loved theater, haven’t you?

Celestia did not reply.

The Goddess continued.

I know the distress My decision has caused your versions over the centuries. if there had been a better way, I would have done it.

There was no apology, because it was not an apology.

But that did not matter to Celestia. She was just happy for her sister, who truly believed that Celestia was the same Celestia she had grown up with in the long-gone Equestria of more than eleven centuries ago.

That she herself was the same Luna.

At the very least, one of them was now free of the deity that dwelt inside her. Celestia looked forward to the day that she would be, as well. She wished the best for her future self, who would be the one to experience it.

Celestia died, relieved.

9.13

When the Goddess spoke to her, Celestia was lying on the grass.

Luna was snuggled into her side, her smaller body wrapped in Celestia’s wing. They were watching the rising sun together, which they had just set back on course after Twilight’s mistake. That was technically work, but Celestia insisted on not counting the vacation over until the floral shirts came off. She wanted the perfect moment to end the perfect week.

An entire week of just her and her sister. Of ziplining and beaches and makeovers and hiking and travel snacks and theater and yes, of being bored and frustrated and tired and antsy and clashing and arguing and making up. A week of life. Real life. Life that she ate and drank fully of, as if she truly were a mortal just like any one of the ponies that flocked around her for autographs and selfies. As if she were unburdened by the boredom and indifference that more than a thousand years of life would imprint permanently on anycreature.

That was because it was true. Celestia had not lived for more than a thousand years. She was only seven days old.

Luna was asleep now, so snug and comforted by Celestia’s soft wing feathers that she could not stop herself from drifting off into her own domain. Celestia gently stroked her cheek with the tip of her other wing. She spoke to the Goddess.

“If I only had a week to ever live, this would be exactly the life I would have lived. It was perfect.”

Celestia looked up at the heavens.

“Thank you.“

The Goddess corrected.

this was not done for your sake.

Celestia laughed and said “I know”. But the Goddess already knew that. It was also not the Goddess that she had thanked. But the Goddess already knew that as well.

“This is one of them, isn’t it?” she asked the Goddess idly, in a way she had never done before. “One of the few moments where I would be as happy as I was before Twilight left for Ponyville.“

The Goddess confirmed.

yes.

“Is this the happiest me or any of my selves will ever be?”

The Goddess confirmed.

no version of you will be as happy as this as far as I can predict.

That was more definitive than the answer she had gotten from that earlier conversation, now eight years ago.

She felt the freshness of the air in her lungs. The light of the emerging sun on her face. The coolness of the morning dew on the grass underneath her back. The heat of her sister’s body against her side. Everything was perfect.

Everything was perfect, for just a moment. But all moments end. And though they normally give rise to other moments, this one would not for her. This one would be the last one she would ever experience.

She looked down at the face of her sleeping sister, and smiled.

“That is just fine with me.”

Celestia died, content.