What do you mean? My take is that she would actually be ecstatic! While she does form a lot of who she is around her academic excellence...she also is a bit of a Darwinist. Starlight being the better mage would just mean that she has been caught lacking. Finally! A worthy opponent Peer...but that will have to wait, since Starlight is most likely just a foal at this time and by the time the described events kick off, Sunset will have most likely already achieved Alicornhood and posses whatever Eldritch knowledge and might Voice decides to impart onto her...hell, she might even take her as an aprentice, since she would most likely see a lot of herself in her. Sunset Shimmer and Starlight Glimmer...neat naming convetion.
Hmm. Sunset will be looking up how 'Love' relates to 'Magic' in order to help Cadance visualise magic better. But in drawing those links, might Sunset also begin to understand 'Love' a bit better since it's described in relation to 'Magic'? And after that well... The Magic of Friendship is just a short hop of understanding away.
I also like how Cadance got to see that as spiky as Sunset is, she's got incredibly strict standards on when it is and is not appropriate to use Princessly authority on a 'petty' matter. There's definite depth to her supposed arrogance and egoism, which I'm glad Cadance got to see, and will likely report to Celestia.
Sunset may be a hypocrite, and her value system may be messed up.
But, Sunset at least tries to hold herself to same standards she holds everyone else, which puts have several steps ahead of average hypocrite, and makes it much, well, easier is probably the wrong word, but possible, to help her get past her hypocrisy.
Because the moment she can be made to see her double standards, she is going to start fixing them.
Value system may be a bit harder lift, but happily we have the alicorn of social interactions on the job (and a cosmic horror from beyond time and space, who will probably actually be more helpful).
not necessarily because I was mean to Cadance, but because I had willfully done the exact opposite of what Voice had asked me to do. Cadance wasn't supposed to matter. Voice did, and I had agreed to try to mend bridges.
if she went crying to Celestia, the Princess would definitely be very displeased with me. I wasn't sure what consequences she would inflict, but I was sure that I wouldn't like them. Perhaps hooves-on community service without magic allowed
she's got incredibly strict standards on when it is and is not appropriate to use Princessly authority on a 'petty' matter. There's definite depth to her supposed arrogance and egoism, which I'm glad Cadance got to see, and will likely report to Celestia.
I really look forward to seeing more about this part. Sure, she's prickly, but she worships competence. Put her with some other people who work hard and I'm sure she'll perform much better. Maybe it'll also reveal some ways to make other ponies or organizations more effective too.
I really look forward to seeing more about this part. Sure, she's prickly, but she worships competence. Put her with some other people who work hard and I'm sure she'll perform much better. Maybe it'll also reveal some ways to make other ponies or organizations more effective too.
I doubt that she has not been put with other people who work hard.
She graduated from the most prestigious magic school in Canterlot, the school has to hve the highest concentration of hard working prospective mages in Equestria.
Sunset seems like very gifted, and a workaholic, who considers anyone not working unhealthy amounts as lazy, and anyone not getting similar results as her to be stupid (and also probably lazy).
Not unfixable, and Void is working on it, but harder than just inserting her among hard workers.
Also, while she might have the technical skills for effective organization, she needs way better people skill before she is going to make any group work better, or even just stop it from working worse.
I can't specifically recall Cadance being Twilight's foalsitter in Neigh Anything, so maybe??? It'd certainly be an interesting bit of narrative tissue, if true!
I can't specifically recall Cadance being Twilight's foalsitter in Neigh Anything, so maybe??? It'd certainly be an interesting bit of narrative tissue, if true!
I just looked up Neigh Anything, and oddly enough Cadance was already Twilight's babysitter when she and Shining Armor first met. (Issue 12). Which is pretty strange in a lot of ways but kind of suspicious if you're going with the idea of Twilight being an ordinary unicorn, even as a child. (And notably a savvy enough child to suss out Cadance's interest in her brother). I actually wonder if Sunset will come up with some theories about foals being exposed to alicorns from an early age having increased magical power.
Neigh Anything is the fourth arc of the comic series by Katie Cook, spanning issues #11 and #12. In the story, Shining Armor and Princess Cadance tell Twilight Sparkle and her friends how the two of them first met. An event based on the arc, entitled "Presentable in Periwinkle", is included in...
mlp.fandom.com
Also, holy cow was Cadance aggressive! Granted, Shining Armor was into her at first sight, but she pretty much decided they were gonna get married about a day after that.
Princess Cadance: How do you feel about crystal palaces?
Shining Armor: How about we get through our first dance first? Then we'll talk palaces.
And, no, proper response to someone being a toxic person is not to "punish" them, it is to stop interacting with them until they stop being a toxic person.
Figured I'd point out that there is likely some degree of disagreement on worm meanings here, since many people would construe the choice to stop interacting with a person as a punishment for said person. After all, you're denying them your presence, help, etc. an denying people things is one of the classic forms of punishment (even if, depending how they feel about you, they might interpret your absence as a gift).
While you might not see it as punishment, it definitely can be considered such. While you may be doing it for your own benefit rather than the detriment of the other person, you are still choosing to deprive them of something in response to their past actions. Mind, it generally would not be a particularly strong punishment when the relationship between you and the person it decidedly lacking to non-existent, but it can be considerably more punishing when there is a strong or developed relationship prior to deciding to jus cut the person out of your life. For a no-relationship example, if a cookie jar is put out for people to have access to cookies when they desire, and a child chooses to abuse that by having a more than reasonable amount, moving the cookie jar so they can no longer reach it is effectively revoking the child's privilege to have cookies whenever they want, which is a punishment (if admittedly a fairly mild one that might not ever be explicitly stated to be such).
In the case of Sunset however, while the individuals seeming to do so are all generally minor relationships if that, the problem ends up being the sheer quantity of individuals making that choice, resulting in her being largely cut off from potentially amicable contact with others, while being stuck interacting with only unwillingly forced individuals who are reluctant and unhappy to deal with her, and unpleasant individuals mainly wanting to try and use her in some capacity.
Now, obviously this behaviour didn't arise out of the blue. She clearly was exhibiting some behaviour that had others not want to deal with her before they all stopped doing so when they could avoid it, but based on what we've seen and what was described by Voice, the problems with her behaviour with regards to servants and other non-nobles hardly seems to have been particularly egregious or harsh (the nobles she has been noted to be harsh with, but they've also been actively bad to her). Rather, it seems that the main problem was that she simply was disinclined toward idle conversation, pleasantries, and generally trying to form bonds with or interact with them outside of a purely professional capacity. In other words, she sought to leave them alone to work, while wanting to be left alone in turn, and tried to limit speaking to them to situations relevant to their work. However, because ponies are seemingly far more social than humans (or at least place far more importance on it, considering the socialization is at least subconsciously viewed as part of their payment for their work, even if some sources of it might be unpleasant), this mild antisocial behaviour resulted in most of the staff coming to dislike her.
Also, to be clear, I'm not saying cutting relationships with toxic individuals is a bad thing, just noting that it can easily be considered a punishment all the same.
Now, obviously this behaviour didn't arise out of the blue. She clearly was exhibiting some behaviour that had others not want to deal with her before they all stopped doing so when they could avoid it, but based on what we've seen and what was described by Voice, the problems with her behaviour with regards to servants and other non-nobles hardly seems to have been particularly egregious or harsh (the nobles she has been noted to be harsh with, but they've also been actively bad to her). Rather, it seems that the main problem was that she simply was disinclined toward idle conversation, pleasantries, and generally trying to form bonds with or interact with them outside of a purely professional capacity. In other words, she sought to leave them alone to work, while wanting to be left alone in turn, and tried to limit speaking to them to situations relevant to their work. However, because ponies are seemingly far more social than humans (or at least place far more importance on it, considering the socialization is at least subconsciously viewed as part of their payment for their work, even if some sources of it might be unpleasant), this mild antisocial behaviour resulted in most of the staff coming to dislike her.
Either ponies ARE social animals, and her pointedly trying to have as little to do with 'the help' as possible is a fairly major offense as opposed to mild one, or ponies are NOT social animals, and 'the help' pointedly snubbing her in return is a mild punishment.
Or the matter is a bit more open to interpretation, or both Sunset and the servants were working with false impressions.
If Sunset seems to fit the 'spoiled noble' mold from their perspective, and 90% of the noble foals they meet act like that due to arrogance and awful parents, are the servants really to blame for taking Sunset at face value and acting accordingly?
Sunset thinks that 'the help' shouldn't need praise or courtesy in addition to pay, but the Voice itself pointed out it doesn't work that way, so perhaps she's been much ruder than she believes she has been.
I'll be honest, I think I'll let this get a few more chapters in before I come back to it. Sunsets rationalality for everything just makes cringe, and I'm just waiting on someone to slap the stupid out of her.
I don't know why I am here considering I am completely indifferent to mlp but this story is good so far and you do a good job with character writing as far as I can tell.
Sunset meets Twilight, sees how good she is, hears how she's treated in Kindergarten, thinks on her lessons/history with Celestia, and immediately claims her.
"None Of You Are Fucking Her Up! Mine!"
"... Oh god, how do I not fuck her up? AAAHHHHHHHH!!!!"
I really look forward to seeing more about this part. Sure, she's prickly, but she worships competence. Put her with some other people who work hard and I'm sure she'll perform much better. Maybe it'll also reveal some ways to make other ponies or organizations more effective too.
Despite being very similar people Tanya is much better at social then Sunset seems to be. Or is at least better at presenting herself anyway.
Tanya in Sunset's position would likely have taken Celestia words as commands to make loads of friends. Which she would sort of, but those friends would likely be a bunch of subordinates or a research group. That she runs with an iron hoft.
One of Tanya's main problems is actually almost diametrically opposed to Sunset - by default Tanya assumes that any person in a position of power is competent. Not some kind of genius or workaholic, because while laudable it's not a desirable end goal, but competent in conduction of their duties. Or else why they would be put in that position?
It trips her up time and time again when incompetent, plain dumb or just emotionally affected people make stupid decisions that make the situation worse for everyone.
One of Tanya's main problems is actually almost diametrically opposed to Sunset - by default Tanya assumes that any person in a position of power is competent. Not some kind of genius or workaholic, because while laudable it's not a desirable end goal, but competent in conduction of their duties. Or else why they would be put in that position?
It trips her up time and time again when incompetent, plain dumb or just emotionally affected people make stupid decisions that make the situation worse for everyone.
Every chapter has me going "Sunset. Sunset, no. That is not what they mean Sunset!"
But yeah, it's pretty obvious that Sunset has basically the same issues Twilight spent ten episodes across three seasons getting over, just, worse because her support network is basically Cadence, who she resents (for perceived laziness/getting handed everything she's sweated and (sometimes literally) bled for) and Celestia (Who is canonically terrible at personal relationships) and that's it.
Rather than a loving and supportive family (Twi's parents are cool), a bigger brother, Cadence as a 'cool big sis' figure, and Spike (seriously, Spike does not get enough credit for helping Twilight be... Well, less of a total mass of neurosis.)
But honestly, a big part of the problem is that Sunset pretty obviously has the "do not talk about feelings" brainbug and is only now actually starting to properly articulate WHY she has those feelings. Which, obviously, makes it much easier for people (including herself) to actually deal with them.
Preferably without getting stuck in an alternate universe, stealing a magical McGuffin to turn into a demoney thing, and attempting to conquer Equestria with an army of high schoolers and subsequently taking a Friendship Laser to the face.
It was surprisingly easy to get wrapped up in just watching Cadance and telling her everything that she was doing wrong — and, slightly less enjoyably, how to fix it. Oh, I would rather spend my time honing my own magic. As I was medically forbidden from practicing for a few days more, however, teaching Cadance was certainly preferable to laying in bed reading about spells I couldn't cast yet.
She was certainly far better than the idiots that Princess Celestia had made me tutor for short stints of time — or, no, idiots was a little too harsh for them. Most students at Princess Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns were, as the name implied, reasonably intelligent. They were just lazy and kept wanting to do practically anything that wasn't the tutoring that I was supposed to be providing to them.
I was sure tutoring Cadance would become less entertaining as time went on, of course. As it currently stood, she had so much room to improve that pointing out her mistakes was effectively a continuous activity. Practice via repetition would come when it would actually be useful, rather than what seemed like Cadance needing to unlearn practically every bad habit under Celestia's Sun.
Honestly, if this was what her tutors had left her with, I was willing to reconsider my stance on Cadance possibly using me as a proxy to attack them. Doing such an abysmal job of teaching someone in Celestia's charge should honestly qualify as some sort of crime. It probably didn't because Celestia was far too lenient on her subjects, but it should be.
Eventually, however, a different nurse as this morning dropped off my dinner — with emphasis on the 'dropped.' The poor mare briefly fumbled with the tray upon spotting Cadance, narrowly recovered, set it well out of reach of my bed, and all-but bolted, performing a too-quick bow to Cadance on her way out.
"...Does that happen much?" I asked, slightly bemused. "Even Princess Celestia usually just gets a bow, not borderline panic."
Ponies generally only had that kind of a reaction when we visited places other than Canterlot. I couldn't even be upset that Cadance was treated that way; I felt like some ponies started to be so intimidated by the 'Princess' title that they stopped being able to do their jobs properly.
But really, my hospital room was technically supposed to be the one reserved for royalty. You'd think a nurse assigned to it would expect royal visitors from time to time.
"Less than it used to, still more than I would prefer," Cadance admitted. "I think some of the tabloids have been printing rumors about me being some sort of magically matchmaking monster."
I could have commented on how they had previously called me an actual monster only held in check by Celestia. There was something that bothered me more, though.
"But—artificial emotions require regular reinforcement," I pointed out. "You can sometimes make them self-perpetuating via budding genuine emotions with a great deal of effort, but you run the risk of a rejection response the whole time. At that point I believe it's supposed to be easier to suppress higher thought and control the entire pony."
"Believe me, I know," Cadance complained. "Considering how new the printing press is by Aunt Celestia's standards, I'm not quite sure she realizes just how easy it is for ponies to spread lies."
"No, really, their rumors are provably false," I persisted. "I think that might actually qualify as slander–"
I paused and gave it some more thought. Given as alicorns were effectively goddesses of their respective domains? Cadance truly could spend the power to force love between ponies for quite a while, and the emotion likely would have developed into something genuine by the time it faded if the ponies in question possessed sufficient compatibility.
"Never mind. Princess Celestia bends more rules of magic on a daily basis."
"Right?" Cadance exclaimed. "Although, Auntie's justification was that if we make the standards for publication too high–"
"–The only papers will be those controlled by the rich and powerful," I finished. "I remember."
I had all those lessons long before you came along, and none of it ever amounted to anything. Well, until now, at least. I was looking forward to the governance lessons Celestia had promised; it would be nice for her to entrust me with actual responsibilities for a change.
I awkwardly glanced at the food that had been left well out of reach. Really, I was starting to get a bit annoyed at that nurse. Princess Celestia would never have allowed Cadance to roam free if she was actually a threat to the minds of other ponies.
Cadance followed my gaze, glanced back at me, and shrugged.
"I'm going to assume you don't want me trying to levitate your food to you?" Cadance questioned, trotting toward the discarded tray.
Honestly, I was relieved that I didn't have to ask. The lessons weren't so bad, but I still hated the idea of needing to ask Cadance for anything, let alone help.
"Let's skip you needing to practice on serving dishes in general," I agreed. "Utensils, certainly, but don't risk wasting too much food. Liquids would be good to delay until later, too. We want you to learn, not waste time cleaning yourself after a spill."
Cadance nodded, gingerly picked up the tray with both wings, and carefully crossed to set it down before me.
"This seems like a good stopping point anyway, I think?" Cadance said. "I should be getting home soon. I never did tell Aunt Celestia that I would be visiting you."
I felt yet another stab at the reminder of what she had been granted and I still lacked. My residency in Canterlot Castle wasn't a permanent one; as Celestia's student, I was quartered in Canterlot Castle, but such living arrangements weren't typically granted to court wizards. Not for the last two centuries, at least. A tower at the edge of the castle used to act as their designated living space, workshop, and library. Emphasis on used to. After one innocently interrupted experiment gone explosively awry, everypony agreed that it was best if Celestia's court wizards lived in Canterlot town, preferably in homes well away from other ponies, and simply commuted to the castle each day.
"Still, thank you very much for the help today!" Cadance cheerfully continued. "I thought I would need to grit my teeth and bear it, but this was actually quite fun."
I almost felt offended on behalf of my craft. Unfortunately, Cadance's opinion was not an uncommon one even among educated unicorns. Most unicorns only learned a basic array of everyday spells, telekinetic levitation, and then a few spells related to their Special Talent. Travel to where education was sparser, and that list might be reduced to hornlights, telekinesis, and those same Special Talent spells.
"It's magic. Of course it's fun."
"No, I mean–" Cadance vaguely waved one hoof toward her scattered notes, then started to telekinetically gather them as she spoke. "It's your Special Talent, there would be something badly wrong if you didn't think that. It's not mine, though. I assumed that there would be a lot of geometry and math and everything, but this actually made sense once I started thinking in terms of emotional relationships instead of a fishing rod."
I made another mental note of the way that Cadance's tutors had failed her. With a gemstone heart as a Cutie Mark, I thought that Cadance should have liked geometry. I'd seen Celestia guide her through some basic lessons on accounting and taxation, too, and Cadance had done just fine back then.
Similarly, I still assumed that there was a large degree of luck involved, but she had repurposed a witch's spell as a pegasus. Deliberate cross-tribal magical interference was exceptionally difficult at the best of times.
It was a strange feeling to go from feeling as though Cadance was a cloud-brained idiot who hadn't earned anything, to realizing that she actually seemed to be a surprisingly intelligent mare who didn't use that intelligence. Now that I knew it was there, watching her squander her potential was like an itch that I couldn't scratch. I wanted her to fail and prove that she wasn't worthy of Celestia's attention, but at the same time, seeing her do that would just be such a waste.
If I sabotaged her here and now, Cadance might truly remain the halfhearted 'please forget about me' princess for the rest of her immortal life — or, if competence was inevitable like Voice claimed, at least a few centuries. However, I remembered how happy Cadance had been about what was supposed to be a subtle backhoofed compliment, and her Special Talent was related to emotions. Ponies like her could thrive if given the right support.
If seeing her squander her potential was bad now, I imagined it would be even worse as time went on. If my earlier post-provocation guilt was any indication, sabotaging her would produce fleeting satisfaction followed by increasing irritation every time I had to look at her. It wasn't a good trade.
"I—you're not an idiot," I reluctantly admitted. "And as the windigo-banishing Fire of Friendship demonstrated back at the dawn of Equestria, love and affection are actually two of the most powerful magical reactants in existence."
Once I started talking in earnest, it was much easier to keep going. It's just another lecture, Sunset. Don't think too hard about what you're saying.
"Although you're starting late, that isn't an unmanageable obstacle. Between your performance today, and how much you improved practically the instant you stopped thinking of magic as being separate from your Special Talent? If you put in the effort, I actually think you could eventually reach my current level of skill."
Not Princess Celestia's, of course. Never that. She was the unattainable standard by which all other ponies might be judged, and she wasn't stagnant. Even if we eventually caught up to her current state, she would have long since moved on. Similarly, I would have moved on and ascended by the time Cadance caught up to my current level of skill — and indeed, I expected it to take her significantly longer than it had taken me. My estimate solely stated that she wouldn't plateau before that point unless she let herself.
All the implied caveats didn't seem to matter to Cadance, though. The mare lost concentration and dropped her half-gathered papers in favor of staring at me with eyes as wide as they could physiologically go. A moment later, her eyes narrowed and her gaze bored into me, demanding that I speak the truth. I already had, though; there was nothing else to say.
The oddly intense gaze eased back up within seconds, leaving me with an alicorn who didn't seem to know how to react.
"You really mean that," Cadance breathed. "You think I could reach your level."
I shifted uncomfortably under her gaze, almost regretting telling her in the first place. Knowing that she might have a strong reaction was apparently different from needing to actually be around for said reaction. Maybe it would have been better to send a letter.
"I did say it would take effort," I tried stressing. "Reaching where I am now took my entire life so far, and I believe you are quite familiar with my work ethic."
Judging by her slow, but growing, smile, I suspected that what I was saying was not being truly internalized by the mare before me. This suspicion was confirmed when I started perceiving warmth that may or may not serve the purpose of heating. The alicorn took a step toward me, raised a hoof — and stopped, lowering it while a small frown momentarily returned Cadance to normal. The frown passed within moments, and her joyous warmth returned — and just kept growing.
If it were Celestia that I was dealing with, the outpouring of magical power would have reached uncomfortable levels within seconds— or so I theorized. Celestia never lost control in such a way; even when she was furious, an outpouring of power was intended to make a point.
Cadance's power seemed far gentler in comparison. I could tell that she was happy enough to melt all the snow on an entire street during a blizzard, but without cooking any of the ponies who might be present there.
"Voice was right," Cadance said, eyes glowing and voice reverberating with unconsciously released magic. "There is a heart under all those spikes."
Suddenly, I was intensely curious as to just what nonsense my Outsider had been spouting while I wasn't around. I would need to ask Her the next time She saw fit to let us remember Her existence for more than a few seconds.
Habits demanded that I tell Cadance to shut up and stop attributing nonexistent motives to my words. The urge died under unrelenting warmth. I could not be cruel to her when she was like this. Not when I consciously knew that to do so was to inflict harm, and knowingly inflicting harm was not permitted in the presence of the Alicorn of Love.
Even if I consciously know that I'm witnessing a loss of control, it would have been much easier to respect you if you'd done this before.
"You have been bitter, resentful, and a relentless bully since my arrival," Cadance said, and I was still incapable of mustering an angry retort. "But given half an excuse, you're pushing past your own hatred to be downright–"
The door to my hospital room opened, and both Cadance and my gazes jerked to stare at the unexpectedly open door. Princess Celestia stood in the doorway, once again proving that she consistently managed to have some of the most inconvenient timing possible. I was pretty sure Cadance was about to transition to compliments there.
Cadance's warmth didn't cut out all at once, but it did certainly decay down to normal levels the longer that Celestia watched us and tried to make sense of what she was looking at. Celestia's gaze panned across the writing implements, ink, stationary, and stones scattered across the floor, stuck for a moment on Cadance's rapidly dimming eyes, and finally settled on gazing in our general direction without any specific target.
"…I have the feeling that I just ruined something very important," Celestia admitted.
Cadance released some unidentifiable, but distinctly unhappy, sound between a whine and a whinny.
"You did. The moment has been obliterated," Cadance groaned, falling flat on one cushion to cover her eyes with both forehooves. "Just—it's too late now. You might as well come in, since I think it's safe to say Sunset is fine with it. Could you not have arrived five seconds later?"
"I sometimes suspect that my luck largely saves itself for when the fate of Equestria is at stake," Celestia acknowledged, trotting inside and telekinetically closing the door along the way.
"It might be–" Cadance complained, then sighed. "No, no, I can't think like that. There will be other moments."
"It… does certainly make for a surprising contrast with the last time I walked in on you two," Celestia allowed.
Despite Celestia's seemingly innocuous words and innocent expression, Cadance's hooves jerked back off her eyes solely so that she could shoot up and glare at Celestia.
"Oh, eww!" Cadance protested. "No! You aren't allowed to make jokes like that until you actually explain what it means! I don't want to do it, I spent hours on drafts yesterday and nothing would have worked!"
Celestia almost missed a step. She recovered and somehow made the motion seem natural, because she always did, but I was sure there had been just the slightest slip there.
"You–" Celestia stuttered, eyes wide. "You were going to try to explain?"
"Well, you clearly aren't doing it and Sunset is, what, fifteen? She needs to know!"
I gazed mournfully at my own dinner, now made all the more unappetizing by how recent events were letting it grow increasingly cold. And here I was without usable magic to warm it back up. Finally, I sighed and looked back up at the two alicorns discussing matters that I didn't understand, but strongly suspected were going to do nothing more than distract from my studies and generally make me feel as though I exited a lecture dumber than when it started.
"If this is a cultural 'reference,'" I deadpanned, "I cannot possibly overstate how little I care."
"No–" Cadance started, then stopped. "…Sort of! Maybe?"
"I really don't care," I repeated, and nodded toward the Princess. "Good evening, Princess Celestia. I'm assuming that it's too late for a lesson, so why are you here?"
I half-ignored the sound of frustration and/or anger from Cadance. Half, because it was nice to know that some things never changed: Cadance still had a pathological need to be at the center of attention.
Celestia stuttered to a stop, briefly closed her eyes, and sighed. When she opened them again, it was to a gaze that I knew all too well: that of regret that she wouldn't do anything about. That, too, was soon dragged behind a fake mask of bemusement.
"I — am assuming that neither one of you wants to explain what was happening?"
I would have said not particularly, but Cadance took the choice out of my hooves. The Alicorn of Love brightened and enthusiastically pointed a wing at me.
"Sunset decided it was past time we got along, and she's an amazing magic teacher! I think I learned more today than — well, everything else I thought I knew combined."
That was several steps up from the relatively sedate praise she had provided before, I noticed. Either Cadance was exaggerating things for Celestia's benefit, at which point she might expect me to owe her a favor — or, more likely given Cadance's personality, simply praising her had made me a better tutor in her eyes. Assuming the latter was true, I would need to remember Cadance's tendency to retroactively reassess ponies based on how they treated her. It could prove troublesome later.
"I'm not convinced her previous tutors weren't literally trying to sabotage her," I admitted. "Doing this poor a job of teaching somepony in your care should be criminal, Princess. She was apparently using 'fishing rod' mental imagery."
I half expected the suggestion of criminalizing behavior to earn a disapproving rebuke. Today seemed like a questioning eyebrow day instead.
"While I am beyond proud that you two finally seem to be getting along — I'm afraid the 'fishing rod' comparison does make it easier for some ponies, Sunset."
I had to stop and stare there. Celestia didn't look away from me even as she settled atop a quartet of cushions pulled from the nearby stack.
"…Really?" I asked, not at all sure that I believed her. "Cadance's Special Talent is 'love,' not fishing."
"Most unicorns need not levitate objects further away than the length of their own body, and the inherent tether is helpful for deterring accidental throws when they are surprised," Celestia confirmed.
"But when was the last time you met a unicorn who fished?" I persisted. "Cadance used to be a pegasus and some of them do eat a little, but nopony else does."
This morning's unsettling conversation with Voice oozed up from the depths of my mind, and I added a belated qualifier:
"Well, them and thestrals. Either way, it doesn't seem like most ponies would be nearly familiar enough to make for a suitable foundation."
"The more common variant is a 'ball of yarn,'" Celestia allowed.
That just made me want to yell at everypony involved with spreading either variant. Seriously, did somepony just decide that immaterial connections were too difficult for foals to grasp, and then nopony ever bothered learning any better?
"Regardless, while I would love to discuss the different ways unicorns have viewed their magic over the centuries, I'm afraid that I should not stay for long. I simply wished to drop off a gift for you before bed, Sunset."
That got my attention. Princess Celestia seldom gave physical gifts outside Hearth's Warming or my birthday, but they almost always tended toward the pleasantly practical. Watching her retrieve from her back a necklace on a thin gold chain was actually quite disappointing. As it floated closer to me, though, I rapidly reassessed.
I usually disdained gifts of clothing or jewelry, as I wasn't the sort of pony who particularly enjoyed wearing either. Both reminded me too much of those few social gatherings that Celestia had brought me to before some selective pyrokinesis against severe offenders had convinced her to give it up as a bad idea.
I felt I could make an exception for this necklace, though. Yellow diamond and red ruby had been carefully twisted around each other and magically merged in a miniature, but impressively faithful, reproduction of my Cutie Mark. This, too, was a casual display of power. You couldn't just melt gems together like they were metals; therefore, far more delicate magic had to be involved to turn them into a single cohesive object.
"Sunset, though I cannot spend as much time by your side as I wished I could," Celestia recited, dragging my attention back to her. "I wanted you to know that I am still thinking of you. I am working on a larger and enchanted variant, but I fear it won't be completed for quite some time. Considering my intentions, half measures cannot be borne."
That reclaimed my interest, and I sorely wished that the cultural preference wasn't toward surprise gifts. If it was taking Celestia significant time to enchant something, that told me a great deal all on its own. Unlike Cadance, Princess Celestia knew how to delegate; if it was to be a lesser item, there were other enchanters who might be commissioned. Celestia taking a personal hoof in matters, and then being unable to complete the project in an afternoon, immediately raised its threshold to the realm of a masterpiece. "Quite some time," even higher. Whatever she was making wouldn't be some short-lived bauble, but an item that might last me the next thousand years or more.
"There is another, related subject I wish to discuss with you upon your return to the castle. Though I hope it will bring you happiness, it is not a topic that should be broached while you are in pain or otherwise impaired."
Beside me, Cadance raised one hoof to cover her face.
"Auntie, I don't know what it is, but please just tell her. Her facilities seem perfectly intact and I suspect she could use something to look forward to while she's stuck here."
With a normal topic, Celestia might demur, refuse, and possibly change the subject. Full-fledged stiffening was new. What did she want to talk about, exactly? Not wanting me to be in pain at the time implied that she feared said pain would influence me into some kind of adverse reaction.
...She didn't think I was ready to graduate from being her student, did she? Yes, I had advanced past the point of what Celestia's school could teach me faster than I could teach myself, but those teachers weren't her. I could spend an entire century learning from Celestia and not exhaust the depths of her knowledge. The possibility of no longer being her student was terrifying.
"I—do not believe that to be wise," Celestia said slowly, gradually regaining control of herself. "Furthermore, I still need to research relevant laws and–"
"I know how to throw things now," Cadance threatened, and I jerked to stare at her with wide eyes. "Don't make me start flinging pillows."
I shoved my instinctive alarm away, embarrassed that I had such a reaction at all. Of course Cadance wasn't trying to threaten the princess with thrown stones, even jokingly.
"While I am happy to see that your unexpected studies are going well — and that you two are working together at all — I shall not be swayed in this," Celestia said firmly, once again throwing away any advice that didn't align with her own wishes. "I will not risk it being mishandled by haste. However, Sunset, if you want something to look forward to — I believe you enjoyed your prior lesson with Spring Hail? I believe I can arrange for further lessons with her once you are well."
The relief granted by her words was disproportionate to what Celestia thought she was saying. She didn't think I was done being her student, then. I didn't know what other topics she thought might or might not make me happy, but as long as she didn't think I should graduate, I didn't need to worry too much about it.
It was difficult to sit up properly after my relieved slouch, yet I didn't need to feign my general excitement. I had no idea how Celestia thought the logistics would work out when I knew our lessons could be interrupted at any given time, but if she said Spring Hail could teach me at the castle, then Spring Hail could teach me at the castle.
"...She looks happy. Why does she look happy? Who in the hay is Spring Hail?" Cadance demanded, frantically turning from Celestia to myself and back in her search for answers.
Celestia quirked an eyebrow at me in the moment while Cadance was turning to me. Her mask had reasserted itself by the time Cadance looked back at her. I still hated the casual hiding of her emotions even when it was being used for my benefit, and for an obvious message: I was allowed to tell Cadance whatever I wanted, and Celestia would support my claims.
I... wasn't sure she'd ever done that for me, actually. Not since she'd helped me lie to the kitchen staff about stolen cookies — which, in hindsight, the chefs had obviously known was me all along, so it didn't count. Even if it was for a mild prank rather than a subject of import, having her support was still a wonderful change.
"Spring Hail is going to be my tutor in pegasus magic," I said with complete honesty. "I mentioned a pegasus with an inspiring level of wing expertise? That's her."
Cadance lit up and looked at us with gleeful eyes that I could easily imagine sparkling. Fortunately, this time light stayed away from her eyes where it belonged.
In contrast to practically every other time I had seen Cadance happy around Celestia, Equestria's immortal ruler did not appear pleased by Cadance's glee. Quite the opposite, actually.
"I am torn between disgusted horror at the conclusions I suspect you are reaching, and–" Celestia paused. "No, there is no competing emotion, I'm afraid. Cadance, please do not. Even if she has aged gracefully, Spring Hail is over twice Sunset's age."
Cadance's enthusiasm extinguished itself, and the Princess of Love pouted.
"Oh, that's no fun at all," Cadance grumbled, then paused. "Does she happen to have a daughter about Sunset's age? I'll settle for that much."
That one hurt. Celestia suddenly looked as though she didn't know how to answer Cadance's question, either, her mask cracking with some emotion I couldn't quite recognize before it was wiped away.
"...Oh," Cadance said sadly, obviously misinterpreting our expressions. "I'm sorry."
Celestia closed her eyes and went silent for several long seconds. When she opened them, she looked as exhausted as after an all-night crisis.
"Perhaps this cannot wait after all," Celestia quietly acknowledged, and turned her attention to Cadance. "Would you be willing to go home without me? I'm afraid that Sunset and I have some important matters to attend to before either of us can sleep."
To reinforce the dismissal, Celestia's horn lit, surrounded every stray item with yellow light, and gathered all of Cadance's scattered belongings back into Cadance's saddlebags. Curiosity and intrigue burned in Cadance's gaze, but she shrugged the bags across her back rather than voice any of the questions she so clearly had.
"Sure. Thank you again for the lessons, Sunset! It's wonderful to know that there is a heart hiding under all those spikes."
I was tempted to snap at her now that I actually could, but caught her pointedly flicking her eyes toward Celestia's surprised form. A vote of confidence for my own benefit, then? My retort died, and I settled for reinforcing what had been said earlier.
"Just remember that progressing in magic isn't always going to be this easy," I said instead. "If you decide to stop working, then it's going to stop working."
"I re–mem–ber!" Cadance sang, turning to clumsily telekinetically open the door and trot through it. "Good luck!"
Within seconds, I was left alone with Princess Celestia and my (still uneaten) meal. I was tempted to start eating during the long silence that stretched out as Celestia seemingly tried to remember how to speak, but felt that she might take it as an excuse to return to her original plans and push off the topic until we were back at the castle.
"Sunset," Princess Celestia said eventually, "I believe I mentioned that I owe you a long overdue apology."
My expectations simultaneously soared and sputtered. Princess Celestia practically never apologized and meant it. Oh, she often apologized when she had to end our lessons early, but it didn't mean anything. If Celestia was taking time to apologize rather than apologizing for missing time, though, she might actually be regretful enough for something to stick.
At the same time–
"Wait, did you seriously send Cadance away simply because you don't want anypony to know you actually apologized?"
Celestia winced.
"On the contrary, I did not think you would want her present for this. If you do want her as a witness, I would be willing to call her back."
I had to think that one through. In the end, though, I figured that Cadence would want to interrupt and constantly justify Celestia's actions. She might be a better student than I expected, but that wouldn't make her a pleasant pony to be around outside magic-related situations.
"No, you were right. I'd rather she not be here."
To my delight, that earned a wince from Celestia without having her couple it to a disapproving stare.
"I do not know what to say," Celestia admitted. "However, it has become clear that I have done you a great disservice with my stance of not saying anything when I am uncertain. I worry that you might believe I am only apologizing because of your new agreement with Voice, which could not be further from the truth. It is more a matter of my own failures being revealed during your 'Dirge of Dreams' rather than any intended benefits of that ritual."
On the one hoof, it was beyond gratifying to see Celestia admit to having messed up. On another hoof, she wasn't wrong about what I thought of her motives. Subconsciously it might be, but I knew my newfound immortality was the only reason she now believed it worth her time to actually consider my well-being.
I didn't see why her apologizing would need to wait until I wasn't in pain, though. There was another stormcloud waiting to drop its payload.
"I have not been as horrified as I was on the night of your ritual for nine hundred eighty-eight years, and the events of this Summer Sun Celebration have already joined that atrocity in my nightmares. I consider it my own failure as your teacher that you thought I would ever want you to risk your life, let alone that I was encouraging you toward that end. I so often argue with you about your dangerous methods not because they do not work, but because I do not want you to risk yourself so."
I wanted to ask, what happened almost a thousand years ago? I could afford to wait and only ask if I couldn't find the answers myself, though. It was obviously a painful subject for her even if I was amazed my own ritual was being ranked that highly. Equestria had gone through more than one war in the intervening time, however short-lived those wars might have been, and the Dirge of Dreams was supposed to be worse? I honestly couldn't believe that. Maybe if I'd failed and Celestia had later found my Outsider-warped body, sure, but it had been a resounding success on all fronts.
"I am sorry, Sunset," Celestia sighed. "I was wrong about what Starswirl's mirror would display, and misinterpreted what it meant to you. I feared driving you ever further away when it seemed you were sinking into despair, and continued to make only tentative attempts at helping even when it was clear those were not working. I did not adequately explain that I cannot make you an alicorn any more than Voice can, and the mechanics of the process require that you be ignorant of them.
"Most of all, you should not have felt as though you needed to do anything to garner my approval, Sunset. I have no adequate excuse for my distance and neglect, only old habits honed by ponies with different situations than your own. Worse, I thought that I needed to be strict and stern to draw you away from a dark path, utterly ignorant to how my own actions were pushing you down that same path — again."
I almost wanted to demand how, if she'd previously done something similar to another pony, she hadn't learned from it the first time. If it was related to the thousand-year incident, though, I could reluctantly admit that nearly a millennium before repeating the mistake again was actually a pretty good track record. Just my luck that I had to be the pony it happened to.
"I now fear that my following request will be interpreted in light of my apology, as though I am attempting to offer it as some sort of maregild — compensation — for my past mistakes. Though my request is overdue, it is not simple recompense. I am also aware that it does not truly solve anything. However, it is my hope that it will keep me from making many more mistakes in the future — including, and especially, the mistake of letting you believe that I do not care."
Princess Celestia took a deep breath, closed her eyes — and knelt at the foot of my bed, head bowed almost all the way to the floor.
"I love you, Sunset Shimmer. Will you allow me the honor of adopting you as my daughter?"
yeah the one of the Chimera, he basically called Dibs, the statue and voice are now hashing out something called alternating weekends? both said it won't really come into effect for another decade or so
/slow blink/ h-huuhh?! - Sunset.exe
Please don't let this be a communication fuck up for drama points. Let love be the drill to pierce the heaven trump the misunderstanding field at play here, please.
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