Outside, Celestia could hear the buzz of the crowd. Though she had only gotten a glimpse of it as she was shuttled into the building, she could tell it was big. It was easily the largest Summer Sun Celebration she had seen in her many centuries-long immortal life. There were even a large number of non-ponies present, at just a glance she had seen crowds of griffons, zebras, changelings, yaks, kirin, and even some llamas. From all corners of the world, people had come to see this final passing of the torch.

As a general rule, Celestia did her best to not allow her emotions to bubble up to the surface. When panic and disharmony had reared their ugly heads, people had always looked up to her for guidance. Thus, she had learned over millennia of administration to always outwardly keep calm, no matter what came her way. When the heralds rushed in to declare the news of some great catastrophe or other, she always kept her face the perfect mix of pitying and authoritative. When the scouts reported that the changeling armies had crossed the border, she was—and always had been—an island of calm for her subjects to hold on to. Despite how much she had occasionally wanted to escape from the troubles.

Even so, despite more than a millennia of practice, she found that her hoofs seemed insistent on idly tapping away at the legs of her plush seat, and a rather disquieting frown had decided to make itself right at home on her face.

Celestia had devoted her entire life to helping her ponies (and more recently, the world), and what was today but a natural extension of that? It would ensure safety and the continuity of life even without her. It wasn't as if there were any problems with what was happening, if anything things were progressing perfectly. Today was the culmination of decades of work, the greatest artisans, engineers, scientists, and mages working together on the final step. Celestia had been there to oversee every detail, and even with her meticulously combing through every report, she had not been able to find a single fault.

Despite this, no one would stop her if she called it off. The team that built it had nothing but total respect for her. After all, she was practically the only person in the entire world who was truly experienced in the mechanics of celestial manipulation. They still needed her word to go ahead, and she could think of a million possible ways it could still go wrong. It was impossible to truly understand a machine like this; she could claim any issue, no matter how ridiculous, and she would once more be the focal point.

The celebration was being held in Manehatten this year, a few years ago the organisers decided to start rotating it around between cities every year. She had initially protested due to the waste it would generate, but it was the fifteenth century and the idea of “waste” was well and truly irrelevant. Especially after today.

Numerous times Celestia had offered help to the many engineers, technicians, and other volunteers outside setting up the event but there was nothing to help with. They had been planning for over a decade now and everything has been accounted for. So here she sat, awkwardly trying to pass the time to dawn, idly tapping away.

“Hey,” a voice said from behind her.

Celestia did not jump, and she was certainly not startled. Such words were hardly appropriate when describing a princess. She quickly (but gracefully) turned her head to look at the source of the voice. She was a rather young Earth pony mare, Celestia reckoned no more than 22 years old at most. Her light brown colouration was sharply contrasted by the absolutely ludicrous state of her mane, it was dyed with every colour of the rainbow and utterly filled with pins and ornamentations.

“Hey?” Celestia said, nonplussed. Did this mare really not know who she was? She had fallen far.

“Mind if I sit here?” she said, and before Celestia could even begin to form a response she had already plopped down into a chair right next to her.

Celestia tried to regain her composure and said, “You’re here for the celebration, I assume?”

“Nah, just here to support my dad. He loves engineering and won’t shut up about this machine he’s working on. Supposedly it’s ‘the first chapter in world history’ or something.” The Mare nestled her head into the pillows of the lobby chair and sighed. “These are great, maybe I should stop by this place more often.”

Celestia frowned and ignored the pillow comment. “Though the machine will inevitably make history, I’m afraid he’s a few thousand years away from the beginning.”

She leaned forward, her hair dangling in front of her face. “That’s what I kept saying! Then he would just start to go on about how everything before the fifteenth century is irrelevant and blah, blah, blah.”

“Considering most of my life took place before the beginning of the century I should certainly hope not.”

The mare straightened up in the chair and looked at Celestia. “Wow, so you’re like really old then, eh?” The mare reached up and gave her a light hit on her flank. “Kidding, but how old are you really? 40? What was it like, spending a whole third of your day working?”

“Quite a bit older than that I’m afraid. Work was… draining,” Celestia said.

“Well then maybe you should come to my party then, your generation deserves it after working so hard so we could build these stupid machines,” she said with a laugh. “What’s this one even for anyway? Isn’t it for like the sun or something?”

Celestia had so far done her best to avoid looking at the machine. She turned to face the far side wall of the lobby. It was made almost entirely of glass, through which one could look down onto the hard concrete floor upon which sat the massive machine. No more than 50 metres away, Celestia could hear the thrumming of the machine. One of many similar complexes had been constructed around the world, all to facilitate the greatest achievement in magical engineering of all time.

“What is being celebrated today is the Nova module, up until recently mechanical replication of only limited magic was feasible. During the last century this has changed, and technology capable of recreating magical effects produced by various creatures, unicorns for instance, has been developed. The level of power and complexity to move past this though was considered impossible until the last few decades.” Celestia paused, she had unwittingly begun to lecture and was unsure if her audience was even interested, but the mare was clearly paying attention so she pressed forward. “The Nova module is the final culmination of that work, a machine capable of replicating the magic of a being as powerful as an Alicorn. A machine that can shift even the celestial bodies themselves. It will allow for the safety of the planet and place the lives of billions outside the hoofs of a small magic elite.”

The Mare seemed interested. “So it can raise the sun? I guess that would be the very last thing to be automated right?”

Celestia nodded. “Precisely, with this final iteration the world machine is complete. Even the work of an Alicorn is now irrelevant.” Celestia said, her voice tinged with melancholy.

“Well then maybe we should grab them, sounds like they need to party, hah!”

Celestia looked at the mare in incredulity. “You really don’t know who I am?”

She looked awkwardly down at herself and said, “Sorry, should I? You must be some Equestrian celebrity here to give a performance or something, right?”

Celestia could hardly breathe with how hard she was holding in her laughter. “Something like that, yes.”

The young mare looked away and began to get up. “Sorry for taking so much of your time. I’m just visiting from Farbrook, and I don’t really keep up with news from Equestria. I'll get out of your mane."

“No!” Celestia interrupted, a bit louder than she intended. “I mean, no, that's fine. Please, I’m enjoying our talk, stay."

Despite herself, she really was. She couldn't remember how long it had been since somebody new had spoken to her like this. Someone with no prior image in their head about how she should act.

A chime sound came from the overhead speaker as a voice began to speak, “Thirty minutes to dawn, everypony to your station.”

At the sound of the announcer’s voice over the loudspeaker, the mare's ears perked up. “Ah crap, I’m gonna be late,” she said as she shot up. “Maybe we can chat more later!” She quickly turned to the doors and began to gallop away. As she was leaving, she quickly turned to eagerly wave at Celestia before resuming galloping away.

Celestia awkwardly raised her hoof to wave back, still somewhat mystified from the whole interaction. She didn’t even get her name. She sat there for a moment, thinking about what the mare had said.

“Princess?” A familiar voice called out to her from the lobby doors. Celestia turned to see the chief organiser of the project and today’s Summer Sun Celebration, Minister Comet. “We’re starting soon, would you like to begin preparations?”

Celestia opened her mouth to speak but paused. She thought hard about her life up to this point, a life she lived in service of others. She didn’t regret a moment of course, but perhaps now she didn’t have to.

Comet coughed. “Princess?”

Celestia smiled. “Go ahead without me, I think I’ll be taking tonight off.”

Comet looked scandalised. “But Princess, the sun, the celebration!”

“Isn’t that the whole purpose of all this work, that I don’t have to be there?”

“But Princess, shouldn’t you at least be present for the last time? It’s an important event!” Comet said with a shocked look on his face.

“You and the others have my complete faith and approval, Minister Comet. Besides, I think the message would be far more potent if I wasn’t there,“ said Celestia whose face had broken out into a wide grin. “Now, if you’ll excuse me I have a party to go to.”

Author's Note

This was written for the Seventh Annual Equestria at War Writing Contest.

I originally wanted to make it far longer but didn't want the scope to get out of control so kept it short.