The Long Roll of Years
by Paleo Prints
EQD art by ElizabethAttacks, used gratefully with permission.
FimFiction art by Karnella, used gratefully with permission.
“What an infinite number of generations, which the mind cannot grasp, must have succeeded each other in the long roll of years!” –Charles Darwin, The Origin of Species
The royal castle of Canterlot was the bustling heart of the Equestrian Kingdom, and like any circulatory system it had accumulations of useless, fatty build-up. Celestia snorted to herself as she made the rounds on her dreaded weekly check-up of the Empire’s bureaucracy. I wonder if we’ve only been at peace for so long because the Declaration of Violent Intent forms are multi-volume affairs.
She had been "on-duty" from the brink of morning to well past mid-day. Several public planning offices needed her approval on plans that conflicted with each other. She had brought the department leaders together for mediation before realizing they were happily collaborating to create this logjam in an effort to use up their yearly budget money. Between that fiasco and beginning the process of reviewing a proposal to clear a small forest, she had worked through breakfast.
I'm almost halfway through Drudge Day, she reminded herself. Just a little more time and I'll be back to smaller tasks, like raising the Sun.
The immortal ruler of all she surveyed was thoughtfully staring out of a castle window when she heard polite hoof-tapping behind her. She broke out of her reverie to regard one of her clerical staff. The clerk’s face was obscured by a huge stack of levitating paperwork, but the princess had long learned to tell her attendants apart by the color signatures of their magic.
Celestia quickly slipped into the maternal demeanor her ponies were most familiar with. “Dearest Sheafstack, how has the afternoon found you?”
A pair of horn-rimmed glasses peaked up from above the busywork. “I’m still negotiating the intricacies of the current year’s tax plan, My Lady.” A nervous custard yellow nose peaked out as the mare moved her burden to the side. “And yourself, My Lady?”
Celestia responded with a flippant shrug. “I was considering sleeping in today. The morning starts when I say it does, after all.”
The young clerk had learned to tell when the Princess was in a frivolous mood; she knew the princess appreciated having a "straight mare." She fell in step next to Celestia as the princess began walking down the hallway.
“Your Eternal Majesty, we do have clocks now. “
Celestia stomped the ground in mock frustration. “Darn it! I shall have to outlaw them. From now on a ticking sound is a one-way lunar vacation.” Her eyes became glassy for a second; losing her humor she quickly turned the conversation to another topic. “And what of you, dear Sheafstack? I seem to remember you had a poetry recital at some point.”
The clerk nodded. “I just had my twelfth session, Your Majesty. I’m gathering a small following, but I’ve been looking for something more than a fan.” Sheafstack sighed wistfully. “I wished I could meet someone special as fascinated by the poetic arts as I am.”
Celestia smiled. “I'm about to make a love connection!” She rolled her eyes around in the exaggerated manner she adopted when whimsy took her.
Sheafstack smiled. “Really, Your Majesty? If you know someone on the staff with interests like mine I would love to meet them.”
Celestia nodded. “You two would be perfect together! I've been meaning to set Inkwell up with someone for ages. Let's go see how the eligible young bachelor is doing!” Celestia half galloped down the hall. “Inkwell? Dearest Inkwell, what are you doing this weekend?”
An aged stallion walked out of the library with controlled but noticeable effort. He levitated a heavy tome with a faint glow that matched his graying beard. “Your Majesty, tomorrow I was going to catalog the travelogues.” He smiled, waiting for the irrepressible goddess to make some verbal joke.
Celestia lifted her hoof to a mouth while her eyes shifted back and forth in embarrassment. Sheafstack looked confused. “Dear Sheafstack, I must have... ” Celestia verbally stumbled. “I must have forgotten that it was mid-day! I think I meant someone who works the night shift. I’ll try to remember to talk to him this evening.” I hope she forgets I ever mentioned it. I wish I could pray to myself. Maybe I’ll pray to Luna.
Sheafstack looked a little disappointed. Inkwell led the junior librarian into the library. “No trouble at all, Your Majesty. I know how time just passes by when you keep yourself busy.”
Celestia nodded as the pair walked into the library. “Yes. It certainly does.”
Celestia made her way to the Imperial Court of Canterlot. A bustling line of ponies snaked their way out of the door. A mare and a stallion loudly argued in the back of the line. The Princess could tell they wouldn’t stop until they reached the front. Halfway through the throng of ponies a young filly cried incessantly, terrified at the giant images of Discord.
I wish I could get rid of those sometimes. The eyes follow you wherever you go. I always feel like somebody’s watching me.
She gave a dignified wave in greeting to the assembled masses and vowed to herself to move briskly through the day’s agenda. The Princess performed one of the many polished speeches she had committed to memory. It was so well rehearsed that she was able to keep her own train of thought going whilst she made eye contact with the audience.
Her thoughts were a mix of resignation and whimsy. Oh Luna, if you have any divine pull please send me an easy end to Drudge Day with simple, hardworking rural ponies. I couldn’t take another run of nobility. She raised her eyebrows. I’m almost praying to Luna. If she ever found out I’d never hear the end of it.
The clopping sound of applause broke her concentration. Well, I apparently pulled that one off without a hitch. She gestured for the first applicant to approach.
A nervous white pegasus approached. She shook her dark blue mane nervously. The Princess noticed a cutie mark of a crimson star with a light scarlet trail.
“Um… my name is Red Shift, Your Majesty. I’m from the Royal Observatory. I was hoping to convince you that, con-considering the needs of the… the inspiration of… ”
Celestia lifted a hoof, silencing the young scientist. “Calm yourself, my dear pony. My sister and I are fond of the crystal ball paintings your team produces of distant galaxies. How can we help?”
She offered a fragile smile. “Well, we’re capturing great picture of distant systems. We’re hoping to send a few crystal balls on your sister’s first rocket launch to get some data.” She pawed the ground. “Our funding has been eliminated in the next year’s budget.”
Celestia stared. “This would be voted upon by the Canterlot funding council?” The astronomer nodded. “Well, luckily enough I remain able to provide funding. There should be enough bits in the treasury to keep things in order. Consider the matter amended.” She smiled warmly. “My sister would be inconsolable if her sky were not studied.”
The pegasus nodded emphatically, bowed, and walked away backwards. Good work, Princess! One clear-cut problem deserves one good decision. I can keep this going all day. “Next!”
As the day wore on Celestia became tired; the novelty quickly ceased after Red Shift’s case had been resolved. Whether farmer, barrister, or noble came forth mattered not; the problems all started to seem familiar to the alicorn.
“Your Honor, I'd like to propose a bridge between Marebury and Neigh Orleans on the Whisperwood Pike.”
“It didn’t work the last three times; study their plans if you want to know why. Next!” She resisted yawning.
“Your Majesty, I come asking for a request to study the historical archives. I'm researching the specifics of the great writer Coltaire's arrest; I need to try to piece together the mystery of how he eluded jail from his remaining personal records.”
“He hid in the wine cellar in a barrel. The greedy pig took his double-dandelion sandwich with him too.” Celestia snickered, but noticed nopony else shared her mirth. “I guess you had to be there. Next!”
“My Princess, I wish to write the first book on comparative griffin-pony anatomy. There's no other treatise like in in the records for two centuries.”
The bored Princess kept her head up with a hoof. “Index number 567.99, filed under Trotswell. Do yourself a favor and get the first edition; he just kept adding refutations to critics with every passing one. Next!”
Celestia watched the line of assembled ponies grow shorter and shorter as the day went one. During a lull in the proceedings she turned to the nearest guard. “Do the citizens seem... off to you? They seem a little bit uneasy.”
The white mare merely nodded. “They say the citizens and their ruler are as one, Your Majesty. If I may be so bold, you seem uncomfortable today.”
Celestia crossed her hooves underneath and placed her head on the floor. “I can always count on you for advice, Velocity.” The surprised soldier’s response was interrupted by a new voice.
“Pardon me, Princess. I believe we have something to discuss.”
A mustached azure-coated unicorn dressed in finery had pushed himself to the front of the line. He shoved aside roughly the light green unicorn farmer who was about to be heard. The simple stallion stuttered out a beseeching appeal to the guards. The noble cut him off with a glare before the farmer had finished six words.
Celestia was not amused. “By what authority do you mistreat my subjects, Royal Blue?”
The unicorn gave a disrespectful smile and bowed. “Your Majesty, it has come to my attention that you have funded that artillerymare’s pipe-dream we finally managed to shut down.”
Celestia raised a questioning brow. “You speak of the Royal Observatory’s crystal ball project, then?” The rest of the hall grew nervous. Ponies with a dozen feet of the boisterous stallion took at least three hoof paces away from him.
The green farmer stepped forward. “But…but…my forest clearing proposal... ”
“Hush!” Royal Blue returned his gaze to the Lady of Long Days. “Princess, we have many other projects that your bits would be better spent on. I must protest at your undercutting of the council.”
I knew a series of checks and balances would lead to me getting yelled at. I did it anyway. Luna, help me. Get me through Drudge Day!
She covered her face with her hoof. “My dear noble, it is with my imperial right to use treasury funds at my discretion. This conversation is over. Allow the farmer to step forward.”
The green unicorn attempted to pass the steaming council-member politely. Royal turned and stopped his advance with a flash of turquoise magic; the telekinetic shove knocked the poor stallion’s hat off as he tumbled sideways. Guards and applicants alike gasped as the rural pony took a hard slam on the floor, falling off the royal carpet onto bare stone. Royal Blue failed to notice Celestia’s eyes flare like a solar prominence at the assault; he was too busy assuaging his wounded pride.
“Well excuse me, Princess! I am astounded at this rude dismissal. Do you remember who I am?”
Celestia turned to stare at the offending noble. When writers and storytellers describe looks of hate or anger they sometimes describe "eyes that blaze like the sun"; quite often, they use the phrase in a metaphorical sense. In this manner it compares the intensity of the stare to a brightly burning cloud of plasma where nuclear explosions are only reined in by gravity. Considering the scale and power of a star, this metaphor is often considered hyperbole.
This time it wasn’t a metaphor.
The brain of Royal Blue almost shut down to protect him from the cosmic look of indignant anger that bore holes in both his dignity and his coat. Other ponies covered their eyes rather than look directly at the blinding anger of the Sun Goddess.
“Yes mortal, I remember who you are.” As Celestia sounded out a voice like doom she walked toward the hapless noble, sending him scurrying backwards. Her measured hoof prints rung like furious tremors. “I remember the weather that stormed as a midwife brought your miserable form into this world, and the advice she gave to your parents that night which they took to their deathbed.”
She advanced with a pale glow surrounding her. “I remember the day your great-grandfather was conceived in my gardens. I remember the beauty of your humble farming nine-times great-grandmother. I recall the reasons whole cities celebrated for days when your twentieth-time great grandsire died. I alone know why if the resting place of your thirty-sixth paternal grandfather's bones were found a hundred-foot tall monument would be too small to erect upon them.”
The terrified Royal Blue was relieved when the Solar Monarch's verbal assault suddenly relented. She hung her head, and her vision was focused on a place long past. “I told him not to do it, but I was elsewhere upon the field that day, and only his sword was found when the bodies were cleared.” She gave a long sigh, and an unseen weight seemed to make her shoulders quake.
Celestia looked Royal Blue in the eyes again. His heart nearly stopped. “Do you like bananas?”
He was taken aback. “What?”
“Bananas; do you like 'em? They're serving banana smoothies in the dining hall. Eat and laugh today. Get out of here and forget this ever happened; no one deserves to have this kind of stuff dumped on them.” She pointed a hoof weakly at the hallway.
Royal Blue gave a quick bow and fled the room.
Celestia's eyes swam in a pool of memories. “No one.”
She sat silent a moment and cleared her throat. “This court is closed for an extended recess; if I do not return today then…” she glanced at the docket. “Then good farmer Plowhorn shall be first tomorrow, and I hope he accepts my sincere apologies.” The green farmer levitated his hat back onto his head; he gave an understanding look to the Princess as he advanced backwards.
She turned to her retinue as the hall emptied itself. “Leave me now, Velocity.”
The soldier merely nodded. “Swift, Your Majesty.”
Celestia knit her brows in confusion. “Pardon?”
“I'm Swift Quickstrike; Velocity was my Gran's name.”
Celestia nodded politely as the chamber door shut, leaving her alone.
An hour later found Celestia pacing the kitchen pantry. Her negative feelings led her to the traditional outlet: comfort food. The cooks hurriedly kept out of her way as their immortal empress ravaged the dessert storeroom. In total she had eaten twenty-seven donuts, fifteen crullers, and three whole cheesecakes.
One of the more rotund of the kitchen staff tried to console her. “Your Majesty, perhaps the pastry closet is not the best place to slake your hunger.”
Celestia gave him an irritated expression. He quickly continued before she finished the mouthful of pastry. Grasping at straws, he tried the first argument that came to mind.
“Well…I-I wonder what eating the whole dessert cart would do to your noble figure.” The other mares in the room gasped and covered their mouths.
Celestia swallowed and kept her stare leveled at him. “I raise the sun. Trust me, space-time manipulation is great exercise.” She levitated a carrot cake closer to her.
A young cake decorator bumped the embarrassed chef out of the way. “Good going, One Lump.” She turned to the Princess. “Your Majesty, we will gladly replace all the desserts whenever you need. I’d merely respectfully remind you that these are intended for a charity dinner tomorrow.”
Celestia placed the cake back on a counter; her shoulders slumped. “Thank you for the wonderful snacks. Continue your hard work, please.” She slowly walked out of the kitchen, restraining her urge to run.
The inconsolable alicorn found herself wandering the hallways. Long passage after long passage stretched in front of her; she navigated them silently and alone. Eventually she stopped next to a custodian’s cart; the glimmering of an idea filled her.
A pair of regal white pegasi stood at attention in front of an oaken door. Down the hallway a melodious voice rang out. “Yoo hoo! Guards, I’m in need of some assistance!”
The young rookie turned his eyes to the veteran at his side. The older pony nodded, rolling his eyes. The pegasus guard walked down the hallway, looking expectantly to all sides. He pushed himself into a door left ajar, following Celestia’s voice. Soon the sound of squeaking gave way to a splash as a bucket toppled off the door-frame.
The alicorn nickered to herself in the corner of the room. “My apologies, noble guard. A fey mood took me today.” The young soldier bowed with a surprising amount of dignity and excused himself.
Celestia continued laughing softly to herself. Gradually she heard the sound of conversation down the hall.
“She get you with the bucket, rookie?”
“That she did, Sergeant.”
Celestia crept quietly toward the door. She stared out and saw the old soldier nodding in understanding.
“She gets that way about every mid-week. My grandfather worked here; he ran down all the signs and tells her Majesty gives off. The bucket on the door is pretty obvious. Listen for the sound of tinkling tip-hooves and you’ll know when the ‘kick me’ signs are coming.”
He placed a hoof on the shoulder of his trainee. “I’ll prepare you; you just make sure they go off without a hitch. They all seem to bring her such joy. Why, let me tell you about the time she first used the invisible ink on me.”
The spellbound rookie didn’t hear the soft footprints walking away, or the sound of salty droplets falling softly onto stone.
Celestia sat alone in her chambers. She had given orders that no one should disturb her except in case of a national emergency. Thus, she knew she would be disturbed; giving that order was the best way to get a dark alicorn to shortly appear.
Her plan worked; soon a head crowned with a starlight mane peaked through the doorway. “Sister, I have heard that thou hast barricaded thyself. I dropped my workload and came direct from Old Canterlot to see thee.”
Celestia nodded. “Greeting, Sister.” There was a pregnant pause. “I prayed to you today.”
Princess Luna levitated a drink closer to her off of the bureau. “Thine day was that bad?” Celestia raised an eyebrow. “Sorry, old habits. You had that much of a horse-apple rotten Drudge Day, Celly?”
Luna smiled, but her sister just lowered her head onto the floor cushions. The Princess of the Night Sky frowned. Celestia had always seen the use of her own nickname as an invitation to embarrass Luna with the execrable childish moniker "Woona." The fact that the Sun Princess remained still and silent spoke volumes.
Luna paced over and lay down beside the depressed alicorn. “Dearest sister, how do you feel? I can surely make your night pass pleasantly!” Booming thunder and lightning flashed outside, casting eerie light on Luna’s grin.
She has to stop doing that. Celestia cast a tired eye at Luna. “I feel like Discord.”
The Mare of the Moon stared at her sister without comprehension. Gradually, Celestia lifted herself up onto her front hooves and explained.
“I’m a statue. I stand unchanging as living things pass me by; they barely register. I outlast ponies, trees, and even castles. They briefly walk by and regard me, but I don't move on. I stay trapped in place, but I don’t die; I just slowly erode. Every so often I get a brief time awake to consider how much has changed, but before I can blink I’m stone again. Eventually ponies will even forget where I came from or what I was for.”
Luna gently nuzzled her sister’s neck; she was stunned at how tense Celestia’s muscles felt. After a few minutes she stood and began to leave the room. As she turned back to Celestia she realized the Solar Sovereign hadn’t even looked up.
“Sister, allow me to close your agenda for this day. Wait here; we’ll do something together.”
Celestia heard the sounds of her co-ruler grow faint. She dropped back down onto her cushions. Am I needed anymore? If dawn and dusk changed on their own, would anyone care about me?
Her thoughts grew darker as minutes passed. Luna returned after a short time. “My sister, I believe there is someone who requires your personal attention.”
Celestia gave a disinterested glance. “Is a city getting destroyed? Any deity-level threats unleashed?”
Luna shook her head. “Nay, nothing on the scale of these horrible things.”
Celestia covered her head with a pillow. “Go ‘way.”
Luna arched an eye. Her horn glowed as Celestia was pushed into the hallway, cushions at all. She stayed in her standoffish position until a burst of dark alicorn magic tore the cushion out of her hooves.
“Not fair.”
Luna gave her sister a pleading look. Celestia reluctantly nodded and walked down the hallway. She studied the stones of the castle floor as she walked. She only lifted her head as she turned the corner. Even at my worst, I will make them think I am overjoyed to see them. “How can I help you, loyal subject?”
The young green farmer gave her a look; she could tell her voice must not be very convincing. “I-I’m sorry, Your Majesty. You s-sound tired, and you already st-st-stood up for me so elegantly today…”
Celestia put a hoof to his lips. “Please. Please don’t. I should never be too tired to hear my subjects speak.” She smiled as best as she could manage. “I’m touched by your concern, but I’m here for you.”
Plowhorn shifted back and forth on his hooves. “Gardening advice, Ma'am.” He flinched; Celestia could tell he was unsure as to the correct form of address. “I have an untamed field that my pappy let become a forest. We're looking for something to tell us how to clear the red and purple flowers that pop up everywhere so that we can turn the forest to fields.”
“Ah, the forest rezoning I’ve been trying to get to today.” Wait, did he say red and purple flowers? “You live by the Gentlebrook river, then?”
He nodded his head a little sheepishly. “Th' river is a few miles from th' farm. It runs onto the overgrown land.”
Celestia nodded. “I wouldn’t turn that into farmland if I were you.”
The farmer looked up at her. “Is that an order, Ma'... Majesty? I need to convince a young mare to marry me, an’ I…I thought having a little more land m-might... ”
She let out a breath of exhaustion. “No, my dear pony. Do what you will. I merely note that when your four-times great-grandsires left the Canterlot nobility to settle in the country your distant grandmother became homesick. Her husband replicated her mansion's garden statuary perfectly; he grew flowers to make patterns for her around a beautiful marble veranda.”
The farmer looked with wonder on the Mare of the Morn. She leaned down to him, smiling like a schoolteacher to an attentive student.
“I believe their graves were placed there. Cut carefully into the brush and you will find an ancient place of beauty that will make you the talk of your village.” She raised an eyebrow. “I remember it being very romantic. I understand most mares found the ambiance... irresistible.”
He rubbed his hoof along his chin thoughtfully. “You know, I think Amber Waves does like flowers.”
She smiled. “I'm sure she'll be receptive to a walk in the moonlight in the statue gardens with a polite gentlepony.”
He bowed to the Princess as he started walking backwards. She called after him. “You don't want the gardening book?”
The farm pony shook his head. “I'm gonna see what I can do with my great-grandpappy's work.”
Celestia closed her eyes as she leaned against the wall. She had a quiet look of pride and enjoyment on her face. She heard her sister’s voice behind her.
“Never forget the purpose of a statue. It exists so that things will always be remembered.”
Celestia gave a sharp intake of breath. She opened her eyes and turned to see her sister’s contented smile. “Luna, let’s hit the kitchen. I think a celebration is in order.”
The younger princess clapped her hooves. “What are we celebrating?”
The white alicorn walked confidently down the corridor. “Let’s say…‘things worth remembering.’ Come on; I’ll even get the staff to break out the cranberries.”
The overjoyed younger Princess galloped after her sister.
