Celestia was in rather a good mood. Good moods were more common for her nowadays of course, and especially on days like today when her niece and nephew-in-law were down from their duties in the north. Was that a real thing, a nephew-in-law? She really should have spent more of her two-thousand-odd years studying the occasional family tree. Anyway, it was nice to see them again, even if they did bring politics with them.
The politics had been concluded for tonight, though, which explained her enduring good mood. Celestia was now left wholly to her own devices. After all, Luna could be quite happily left in charge from seven o'clock in the evening. No one ever mentioned that it used to be nine o'clock. Night it seemed, was getting longer by royal decree.
So Celestia was happy, alone in her room. There was something to be said for peace and quiet, so she couldn't help but be a little disappointed when there was a knock on her door. She got up and padded over, opening the door to reveal...
“Your majesty?”
“Oh, good evening, Shining Armour,” she said, a little surprised. What could he want? She was under the impression everything had been covered in the meeting...
“I would like to speak to you alone, your majesty,” he said, bowing his head stiffly. He looked terribly stern.
“Ah, well then, do come in,” said Celestia, beckoning to him.
“Thank you, your majesty,” he said, stepping inside. "A word, if you may.”
“Oh? Well, which word?” said Celestia, taking a seat. She didn't often feel the need to smile wryly, but there came times...
“Do you remember the last captain of the guard?” said Shining Armour, interrupting her train of thought. He was still standing, and didn't make a move to sit down.
“Oh, yes, I remember him. Captain Carabineer.”
“You remember how he got me where I am?”
“Yes," said Celestia, simply. "Once you were in officer training, he took you under his wing (rather literally) and that once he... left the service, it was his letter of commendation that won you the position.”
She half-wondered where he was going with this. The other half was wondering what the sunset looked like. Probably not the best. Neither sister couldn't get sunsets right on their own. The best only came when they worked together.
“You'll remember too, presumably, the knights of old Equestria. How each had a squire to train to follow in their footsteps,” Shining went on.
Celestia was glad she had a pony as dour and serious as him guarding her back, but... why was he going on about this?
“Yes, I remember," she said. Then, in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere (which had gotten a little dark), "although surely you can't."
“We were taught about it in training,” said Shining Armour, his head tilted up to look Celestia in the eye. “Each squire learned how to be a knight, just like how I learned how to be captain from Carabineer.”
“Very good, Captain Armour,” said Celestia, inclining her head down slightly. “Although I do wonder...”
“And I'm telling you this, because I want you to know that I know what it looks like when somepony is being groomed for command.”
The words hung in the air between them like a bad smell.
Right. Of course. His sister.
“Understand, I'm doing this for her best interests-” she started, but Shining Armour was waiting for that line.
“I don't know if you are,” he said, his tone stronger now. “Whose benefit is this for? Why would you need to train a replacement? Did you get bored, sitting on your throne?”
“Don't you presume,” said Celestia, plainly. She wasn't angry, no no no, not at all, but she didn't like ponies presuming. “You don't know what it's like.”
“I'm already keeping a close eye on Lieutenant Culverin,” said Shining, pointedly. “She looks like she might do well with a little more responsiblity. So don't presume that I don't.”
Celestia sighed.
“Alright. What's so objectionable about it?”
“Ah, so you don't deny-”
“Shut up,” said Celestia, her anger just fizzing slightly. “I asked you. What's wrong with it?”
“You know my sister,” said Shining Armour. “You know what she's like. She's a brilliant scientist and researcher, and I'm not saying she's not capable,” (although you really are, thought Celestia), “but she's not ready for this. Not ready for command.”
“That's the point of teaching her,” said Celestia. “We'll have the time.”
“Have the time? It'd take you years to teach her to govern half as well as you. Unless...” Shining Armour's face fell. “You're not seriously considering making her... like you?”
The words carried a bad tone. Celestia looked at Shining sternly.
“How else could it be?”
“You can't honestly be thinking of making my sister into a... a...” the words stuck in Shining's throat. It was an idea too grand and terrible to express. He gestured vaguely at Celestia.
“Rulers of Equestria have always been Royal Sisters,” Celestia continued, who found it neither grand nor terrible. “They need to be. If you're going to rule over a land, then you have to last as long as it will.”
Shining recoiled. His lip rose in a sneer. “I won't allow it. I won't let you force my sister to take on your responsibilities. She doesn't deserve that.”
Celestia paused, biting her lip.
“You're right,” she said, finally. “No one deserves to do what I do. Even Luna keeps her distance from most of the actual business of ruling. So yes, you are right. But I need her now."
Celestia hunkered forward, looking Shining straight in the eyes. Her expression was one of worry and... was that fear? It wasn't a look you wanted to see in a ruler.
"Things are waking up again, Shining Armour. Old, dark things. Nightmare Moon, Discord, the changelings, King Sombra, they're just the tip of the iceberg. There are things long forgotten in this world, forgotten longer than them. Equestria has enjoyed peace and prosperity for a thousand years, but now things are coming full circle. I need Twilight Sparkle now. She's the most powerful magician this generation, probably the most powerful there's ever been. She and the elements of harmony might just be the best chance we have."
Her expression softened a little, and she stood.
"Besides, you're forgetting something very important," she said. “She could always say no."
Shining's mouth flapped for a response, but Celestia had hers ready.
“You were telling me about history, about the knights and dear old Carabineer,” she said, lifting her head and strolling around Shining Armour. “Well let me tell you some more history, which I think you will find very pertinent. When I banished Luna (disregarding for the moment the rightness or wrongness of that decision), I realised I could not govern alone. How could I? Luna had always handled the paperwork, the figures, the tallies, the totals and sub-totals of Equestria. All those inglorious but vital jobs had always been hers. I needed someone to fill that role, and the best way to get someone would be to get them to learn to.”
“You decided to delegate all the work to someone else, didn't you?” Shining Armour interrupted. “The same unrecognised and banal work that led your sister to refuse to lower the moon.”
Celestia's eyes hardened, and she glared at Shining Armour.
“Whether I was right or wrong, I am still your Princess. Some things you are not at liberty to question."
Shining cast his eyes low, and Celestia continued.
“So I chose my first protégée. She was a unicorn, of course. I don't remember her face and history didn't record what she looked like, but I do remember that she was a demon with numbers. I mean, I wasn't bad at mathematics by any means, but compared to her, I was a drooling infant. Her solutions to any and all problems were the most elegant you could imagine. She could line up those dastardly numbers and have them march in step to any tune.
"She studied at my school for gifted unicorns, which was just about the only school around then. I saw her one day, in front of the whole class, step forward and correct the teacher. That, I thought, was what I needed. Somepony with knowledge, and the confidence to use it.
“To nurture this gift, I took her under my wing and gave her free reign to study, out of the classroom. Libraries were presented to her wholesale, university professors called from every corner of the world to challenge her, ancient tomes brought up from dusty reliquaries at the mere suggestion they might help her. And she learned. I watched her work at numbers, at facts, even as the rest of the world slipped away from her. But I paid no heed to her social life. That wasn't part of the bigger picture.
“Then, I started to let her deal in politics. She would need to learn it before long, so I let her do it. That way, she learned organisation, and learned slowly how to make ponies march in step to her tunes. That was probably where the rot started. For the first time, she had time to get to understand ponies. She spent more time at court than at her studies, more time in company than at the jobs I'd set her to, the very things I needed her for. I knew I'd have to act quickly, before she abandoned it altogether. So one evening, I called her out...
And she'd made sure to remember this evening afterwards. Some memories you could let go like so much waste paper, you had to if you didn't want everything to blur into one, but some things were worth remembering. She'd asked to see the unicorn (She'd forgotten the poor mare's name. Why? What had been so important and worth remembering that she'd forgotten the name?). It had been a cool evening, with the last dregs of sunlight slipping out of the world. Celestia was out on the balcony with her.
“I suppose you'll be wondering why I asked you here?”
“Yes, er, I am,” the unicorn had said, nervously. She was always nervous around Celestia. “I'm supposed to be working tonight.”
“Well, it can wait for now. There's something very important I need to tell you.”
The sun dipped below the horizon, and the moon rose. Celestia forced herself to look up at it, and met the gaze of her sister coming the other way.
“You have learned well,” said Celestia, not looking down. “You're the finest mind in Equestria. Maybe the world.”
The unicorn opened her mouth to protest, but Celestia waved her down.
“You are. Trust me. And now I need you,” she said, sternly. “I need your expertise, your knowledge.”
The unicorn gasped and prostrated herself before Celestia.
“Your highness, I am at your command,” she said. “Anything you need, I'd be more than happy-”
“Stand up,” said Celestia, smiling broadly. “I want you to understand how serious I am. Princess Luna may never be restored to us, and your life is, compared to the life of Equestria, too short.”
The unicorn shuffled uncomfortably. Ponies didn't like to be reminded of that.
“Which is why I will offer you this,” said Celestia, lifting a small box to the unicorn.
She opened it and gasped. Inside, was a tiara of solid silver. It was very plain, unadorned except for some engraving, but for the unicorn, it was the most incredible thing she'd ever seen.
“Royal Sisterhood. It's all yours,” said Celestia, smiling down at her protégée proudly. ”Rule with me. Make Equestria the greatest land there ever was and ever will be.”
The unicorn was silent. She took the tiara out of the box and examined it. It couldn't be moved by magic, so she held it in her hooves. It was a weighty thing to be sure. She stared at it for what felt to Celestia like hours.
“So?” said Celestia, grinning.
“It's... very nice...” said the unicorn. “A-and I'm honoured that you'd consider me worthy of it.”
The Princess beamed, and she was about to tell the unicorn all about how she deserved it, the wonderous times they had to look forward to, when a single word stopped her.
"...but..."
Celestia's heart sank. She knew what would come next, even before she heard it.
“...I can't accept it. It's not for me.”
The Princess, Sol Invicta, the Midday Goddess, was lost for words.
"You what?" said Celestia, incredulous.
"I couldn't live forever, not like that," said the unicorn, shaking her head slowly.
“You'd choose mortality?”
“Yes,” she said, a little more confidently. She allowed herself a little nervous laugh. “What would I do with all that time?”
“Rule!” Celestia shouted, a little unhinged. The unicorn flinched. “Rule alongside me! Rule for a thousand years and build the greatest nation on earth!"
Please, Celestia thought. Don't make me do it alone.
The unicorn looked down at her hooves, tracing circles on the flagstones.
“But... what if I don't want to rule?” she said, slowly. “I... I know it's selfish, but I wouldn't want to live like that. An eternity of servitude. I've done my best to serve you, but... I always wanted to do it. And if I did it forever, I'd... well, that doesn't seem like a life worth living.”
Celestia stared at her, open mouthed. The unicorn put the tiara back into the box and levitated it back to her.
“I'm sorry, but I can't.”
“And then she left,” said Celestia. “Turned her back on me and left the castle. I had her found of course, but by then she was far away, living a different life. Sometimes, it's best to admit defeat, and stay defeated.”
Shining Armour hadn't moved. He was standing ramrod stiff, his expression frozen.
“So you see,” she went on, “you don't need to worry about your sister. She's her own pony, after all."
Shining looked like he might try and say something for a moment, but he thought better of it. He stepped back towards the door.
“She won't accept it,” he said, trying to sound certain. “She wouldn't.”
Celestia shrugged, non-committally. “It's her choice.”
Shining left, shutting the door behind himself. Celestia sighed and slumped against it. So much for her good mood. Some things she didn't need reminding of. She needed something to calm her down after that.
She got up slowly, and walked over to her dresser. She opened a drawer and levitated out a small box. Inside, was a tiara of engraved gold. At the pinnacle of it, was a six pointed star, cut from a single amethyst. Celestia admired it for a moment, as she sometimes allowed herself to do.
“This time, perhaps,” she said to herself. She allowed herself a smile. "This time."
"No."
It surprised herself almost as much as it surprised Celestia. Twilight withdrew her hoof suddenly, and planted it back on the cobbles.
"No."
Celestia's jaw dropped. It took a lot to shock a 2,513 year old, but this about did it. Her magical grasp on the little box failed and it dropped, the little golden tiara tinkling across the flagstones.
"No?" was all Celestia could think to say. "Why?"
"Because..." Twilight glanced about. "Because..."
Luna stood by Celestia's shoulder and offered no answers, implacable as ever. Lilac crept around the balcony's balustrade, and the smell of it filled the air. In the west, the sun shone low and warm, and still Twilight Sparkle needed to explain herself. She took a deep breath.
"Because why should I?"
Celestia recovered admirably. She broke out into her most regal smile. "Because you have always been destined for greatness, my faithful student."
Twilight looked down at the tiara, lying where it fell, and her cutie mark stared back. "Me, and only me," she said, quietly.
"You'll still have your friends, " said Celestia, still beaming her smile down. It wasn't a magical smile, but it was... reassuring.
Twilight looked up at the two princesses; Luna, shorter and slighter, and Celestia, taller and prouder. They were sisters born and bred, perfectly matched. Made to order. Made to last. A thought occurred to her, and fear ran down her back like an ice cube.
"But... But I'll still... I mean, I'll see them die."
Celestia's smile didn't falter, it just shifted a little. "But not for a long time yet."
Twilight swallowed heavily, as the image of five headstones came into her head. Five headstones, and her by herself. She'd have the Princesses, though, and Spike. She could live forever and forget who she was, and who she had been.
Her breathing became heavier.
"B-but the kingdom-"
"Will continue with you much as it has without you."
Twilight risked a glance at Luna, who avoided her eyes. Long was the shadow she cast...
"I-I can't," she stammered. Her knees went weak.
Celestia took a step forward. "My faithful student," she repeated, "you were always fated to rule with us."
"No!" Twilight shouted. "Y-you don't understand, I can't!"
"Twilight, I know you're scared, but I know what you must be thinking-"
"You were born an alicorn!" Twilight blurted out. "You knew, whatever else, you were going to be a Princess and a godess! I... I never even thought I'd... All my life I ever wanted to do was learn."
"And you have learned. This is the opportunity to put that to use! Think of it as a reward."
"No!" Twilight drew back. "I won't."
"Twilight, you are the greatest magician of the generation, perhaps the greatest the world has ever known. Don't throw that away."
Celestia picked up the tiara with one hoof and advanced on her pupil.
"S-so that's it!" said Twilight, moving towards the balcony's edge. "You want me preserved, your failsafe, in case something goes wrong!"
Celestia's face hardened. "I would never want that."
Did she hesistate, just for a second? Twilight thought she heard hesitation. She shuffled back again, but met the balustrade. She glanced over her shoulder and saw the thousand foot drop. They said there was a great magical field which meant no one ever fell to their deaths, but if there was it was very old, and must be very worn. Her breath caught in her throat.
She looked back at Celestia, who was still advancing on her, tiara in hoof.
"Twilight, now is your chance!" she said.
She made a decision. "NO!"
And like that, she stumbled over the balustrade.
Celestia's heart leapt into her mouth. A veil lifted from her eyes, and she rushed over to the edge, peering into the air below the castle.
"TWILIGHT!"
But she wasn't there. Celestia took off the balcony and flew down as fast as she could. Terminal velocity for somepony of Twilight's size can't have been great, and Celestia was a damn good flyer, but Twilight was gone.
"Wh-where...?" she looked around, hovering puzzled.
Luna was waiting on the balcony, her face set. Celestia landed, her head drooping.
"She's gone, hasn't she?"
"I didn't think she'd-" Celestia started.
"No, you didn't think, did you?" said Luna, sharply. "What did you expect to happen, that she'd just roll over and accept whatever you told her to?"
"She was always such a good student. She could have been so much more, Luna."
"So could anypony. Will you give them sisterhood too?"
Sadness comes easily to immortals. Celestia collapsed into her sisters hooves and sobbed quietly. Luna realised she'd overstepped a mark. She put a hoof around her sister's shoulders.
"What's done is done," she said. "Come on."
Together, the sisters walked back into the palace. The tiara lay where it had fallen, innocent as a loaded gun.
A quick diversion on unicorn teleportation is called for at this point.
It has already been said that it's one of the most useful things ever invented by ponykind, despite also being one of the most mysterious. Matter is transported from point A to point B with no damage or any adverse effects of any kind (except for when it arrives smelling faintly of jasmine), but exactly how remains a mystery. One of the most curious facts about it is that matter retains any acceleration it might have had before teleportation. In the words of the great magician Starswirl the Bearded, 'speedy thing goes in, speedy thing comes out'.
This is why Twilight Sparkle hit her bed in the palace's visitors' suite at something like forty miles an hour. Luckily, it was very well aired and filled with the finest down money could buy. It still split and burst, but it was a soft landing at least. She lay for a while among the spars of wood and drifts of white feathers in a state of dazed calm. She took a few deep breaths, the memory of wind in her hair only just fading. Then she remembered what she was doing.
She leapt to her hooves. Time to complete the escape. Another time, the room might have reminded her of late-night chats with the Princess over cocoa, tea, and coffee, but none of that occurred to her now. Spike was sat in the middle of the room, giving her a wide-eyed stare.
"SPIKE!" she said, making him jump and come to attention. "Get your stuff together, I need to get back to Ponyville now!"
She waved a hoof in front of her face to clear the feathers and levitated her suitcase and started packing. Or at least throwing things into it. Her room was a mess at the best of times, but at least everything was close to hoof. Spike, meanwhile, was just getting to his feet. He recognised the signs of early-onset freakout.
"Twilight, are you okay?" he tried.
She didn't turn around to answer him, but clicked her suitcase shut and said, "It's no good, you'll have to catch up."
"Twilight, I think you should calm down."
She turned suddenly and fixed him with a glare. He flinched.
"I. Do not. Need. To calm down," she said. "Now is the perfect time for panic."
She rushed over to the door, suitcase levitated beside her.
"If you see them, tell them..." she paused, glancing around. "Tell them I don't want to talk to them right now."
"Who?" said Spike.
"The Princesses!" Twilight shouted. She let out a groan and rushed out of the door.
Spike, meanwhile, considered his options. He could try and decipher some kind of sense out of Twilight's ramblings, or he could have a lie down and forget all about it. Or, he could go after her, and make sure she was okay.
He cast a rueful look at his bed.
"She's lucky she's got you around," he muttered to himself. With that, he ran out of the door, shouting after her.
Shouting got the Princess' attention. Years of crisis management had given them both an instant reflex to shouts, yells and screams of all kinds; breakneck running to find out what it was before it killed, ate, or otherwise inconvenienced anypony.
They ran down the hall until they saw Spike, who was going as fast as his little legs could carry him. Celestia caught up with him first.
"Spike, what's wrong?" she said. "Has something happened?"
He came to a stop and looked up.
"Tw-twilight just-" He took a deep breath. "Twilight just ran off."
The sisters shared a glance.
"Which way?" said Celestia, urgently.
"She seemed pretty upset about something..."
"WHICH WAY?"
Spike jumped in surprise and pointed a claw. The Princesses hared off down the hallway.
Twilight was beginning to regret her vocation. Applejack could run a mile, buck an orchard and still cook a meal for herself afterwards, while Rainbow could make a mile in thirty seconds. Twilight though, whose most strenuous exercise was hauling herself out of bed in the morning, was exhausted after only three (maybe four) corridors of panicked fleeing. She was puffing and panting and her limbs ached but she was crystal-clear in her need to escape.
Then, she heard a crash of brass and steel on flagstones behind her. She willed her underworked legs to keep going, but they revolted by developing the worst cramp in the western world. She limped on as best she could, she could hear them drawing closer. She stumbled and leaned up against the wall to catch her breath. Any minute, they'd round the corner. Any minute, they'd-
"TWILIGHT!"
She turned slowly and saw Celestia barrelling down the corridor to her, head down, her eyes flashing with-
Tears?
OOF!
Celestia hit her like a freight train, wrapping her hooves around her. Twilight writhed a bit, but the hug wasn't malicious.
"Oh you're alive!" said Celestia, breathlessly. "Thank goodness..."
Luna came up into Twilight's line of sight. She mouthed 'don't worry' and shook her head.
Celestia let go and Twilight settled back onto the flagstones, a little unsteady.
"I'm, ah, sorry, Twilight," said Celestia, keeping her head up as regally as she could muster. "I shouldn't have... well, anyway. The choice should be yours, ultimately."
"Er, thank you," Twilight said, tensing for a storm that wasn't breaking.
Celestia smiled out the corner of her mouth. "In your own time, of course."
There was a pause. Twilight became very aware of Luna giving Celestia a sidelong look.
Celestia coughed. "I should be going now," she said. "I, er, hope to see you again soon."
Twilight bowed her head on relflex, and Celestia swept back down the corridor. Luna stayed and looked down her nose at Twilight, who shrank back a little.
"I apologise for my sister," she said, quickly. "She has your best interest at heart, but she can be a little highly strung at times."
She chuckled. "I think you gave her quite a fright."
Twilight gave a forced little 'hah', followed by a long sigh. She felt like she'd swallowed a bowling ball. "I just... I don't know what I should do."
"Don't let it get to you," said Luna. "Remember, you don't have to make this choice on your own. You have your friends and family."
"Right," said Twilight, biting her lip.
"And, if you ever need any help, I'd more than happy to provide."
Twilight nodded. "Thank you, Princess. I'll... I'll consider it."
Luna smiled broadly. "We couldn't ask for more."
Celestia waved Twilight off at the station in the end. It was a nice gesture, so Twilight waved back, smiling as best she could as the train wheezed into motion. The Princess seemed to have recovered a little by then, and her old smile had come back as they had walked down the cobbled streets. Luna was smiling warmly from the platform, not waving, but giving Twilight a look somewhere between approval and support. Twilight watched them as the train pulled out, taking her back to Ponyville. Then, when they were out of sight, she sat back in her seat and took a deep breath.
"What a visit," said Spike, maybe a little too archly. "It'll be good to be back home again, huh?"
Twilight nodded slowly.
Spike smiled up at her, tentatively. "I mean, the town's probably gone crazy without you."
"Oh come on, what's the worst that could happen?" said Twilight, smiling.
"Well, Apple Bloom, Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle have probably gotten up to something, Fluttershy'll be having a panic attack, Rarity'll be being a drama queen, and Pinkie Pie will be-"
"Being Pinkie Pie?"
"Exactly!" said Spike. "We gotta get back and make sure things don't get any worse."
Twilight giggled. "Spike, c'mon, we've only been gone a day."
"Yeah, but since when's that stopped them?"
Twilight laughed and gave Spike a playful shove. He shoved back grinning and, for a moment, as the train rolled down the mountain towards Ponyville, Twilight could forget about the small plain wooden box in her luggage. The one containing the tiara, with the six-pointed star picked out in amethyst.