Voice pouted, and now that She wasn't borrowing my form or expressions, her pout seemed... weird, somehow. It wasn't like Twilight's pouts, which were just adorable in general, or Cadance's, which I tended to be ambivalent toward or even annoyed by. This one seemed... oddly pleasing? I would call it something I enjoyed looking at in a way similar to artwork, but I didn't actually care about most artwork beyond acknowledging that it was impressive. Voice's pout wasn't impressive.
Weird feelings aside, I felt like it rather defeated the point of expressing disappointment if that expression ended up being something other ponies enjoyed viewing.
Well it makes sense, people who want things just slightly faster-paced than you do will start to get antsy shortly before the changes happen because they don't know the change is coming, and you ran things out right as long as you felt fit.
AN: I am not very good at this whole 'put II on hiatus' thing.
Sunset Shimmer
Dinner remained as delicious as always, although I once again questioned the necessity of 'aesthetically pleasing' arrangements that likely took only a little less effort than the entire rest of the cooking process. Sure, it made sense when Celestia had nobility to impress or whatever, but it felt unnecessary otherwise. I supposed that Celestia partaking in simpler-appearing fare when not entertaining visitors might become the subject of gossip, but honestly, she was the example for so many other ponies. Maybe the upper class would be a bit less pretentious if she let standards slip sometimes.
Or maybe it was just that some members of the staff liked having their meals look nice; there were always leftovers, and the kitchen staff were allowed to supplement their own meals with said leftovers. Not that Celestia ever let her employees go hungry, of course — and the same held true for anypony else within her reach. Even during Equestria's ongoing golden age of prosperity, she wasn't always successful, but I gave her credit for trying.
Foals, and orphans in particular, were one area where there was always supposed to be enough money for their care. The only times that fell short were when somepony along the line had been misappropriating funds, failed to request more when necessary, or when local nobility failed their subjects and ponies simply did not know that they could request funds.
I suspected that the dinner arrangements were not supposed to be for the entertainment of an Outsider, but Celestia hadn't batted an eye when Voice started helping Herself. Voice seemed to take some strange delight in serving Herself in such a way that the arrangements remained as pretty as possible, an effort that even Celestia didn't go to when she wasn't entertaining guests. From there, Voice... played with Her food. There was no better way to put it. She still ate everything, but I wasn't sure how else to describe carefully and deliberately hollowing each serving as much as possible until it inevitably collapsed in on itself, or slowly spinning her plate so that she could nibble at the edges like a fish.
I was torn between informing Her that ponies would think that sort of thing was rude, and letting it stand without comment. The latter ultimately won. She wasn't harming anypony, and if somepony wanted to take issue with it, that was their problem.
"If you're going to be 'visible' more often," Cadance eventually ventured, "are you going to be picking up a trade or something?"
It looked as though I wasn't the only pony trying to adapt to the new entity at the dinner table.
"And for that matter," I added, "why did you want to practice with unicorn magic if you're going to turn around and be a pegasus?"
One eye focused on each of Cadance and myself. I could see why She thought that made sense, but at the same time–
"Eyes in one direction at a time, please," I requested. "Ponies aren't supposed to be able to look in multiple directions at once."
The eyes returned to normality, and Voice sheepishly smiled at me.
"I actually forgot that I'm supposed to have a horn for unicorn magic," She admitted. "Wings to evoke flippers and three-dimensional movement made sense at the time."
She shrugged, and flesh rippled. It would probably have been a good idea to look away at that point. It wasn't that bad, though; Voice's wings sank into Her back like they were falling through water, and a horn arose from her skull the same way.
Less subdued was the subsequent squirming of bone under her skin as she made other changes. Subtle muscle gave way to the slender forms of unicorns in need of more exercise — which was to say, most of those living in Canterlot. Within seconds, the pegasus my own age was replaced with a mare perhaps three years older. Honestly, I think I preferred the way she looked before. Voice looked too soft like this, and not in a good way.
Voice scanned my expression, and I tried to keep any dismay from my features. It was Her form; She was allowed to look however She wanted. Still, I suspected She might have used my eyes as a mirror or something, because flesh soon rippled and much of the lost muscle was restored. Apparently I wasn't the only being to decide that upper-class unicorn softness didn't look quite right.
"Problems solved," She announced, and turned to face Cadance. "To answer your earlier question, I know a number of auditory magics and thought that I would act as a minstrel or similar performer. I have been warned to research the 'Sirens' before doing so, but, ah…"
She tapped Her hooves together sheepishly.
"That may be difficult as I am almost physically incapable of reading," She admitted. "I don't only see words upon a page, but also the stories of dead plants and the dreams of the writer themselves. It is very distracting."
I only narrowly avoided gaping at Her. She was this obsessed with stories when She couldn't even read the ones ponies wrote?
"...And text to sound isn't an option?" I questioned.
"It is if I'm desperate," Voice acknowledged, "but I have yet to find a variant that properly conveys tone of voice. A monotone grates."
This from the pon—Outsider who usually treats tone of voice as something to be maintained for entire sentences and usually only breaks for emphasis? Although, she was getting much better at that as time went on. I couldn't even identify from whom she was borrowing expressions and tones anymore.
"The closest is a spell that calls upon the memory of someone who once read any copy of that book aloud," Voice continued, "but that obviously requires someone to have read it previously. Many longer or non-fiction books do not fit this criteria, or do so only partially, such as when students read aloud from textbooks. In short, could somepony please tell me about the Sirens so I don't need to struggle with books? We aren't on speaking terms."
I only halfway remembered them in the first place, and certainly didn't want to risk getting it wrong in front of Celestia. Fortunately, Celestia seemed willing to answer in my place.
"The Sirens were a trio of creatures that stole and twisted the hearts of ponies for both power and their own amusement," Celestia summarized. "I shall not tell you their names, as some may take you knowing those names as evidence against you — and truthfully, I am not certain I remember them after so long. They were defeated by Starswirl the Bearded, and banished to a realm too starved of magic for them to foment conflict as they once did. Unfortunately, some of their followers still persist, although they have long since been pushed to the fringes of society and are viewed with well-earned suspicion in general.
"I do not recommend telling ponies that you were once a mermare or seapony, as you will then be asked a great many questions you are unable to answer. Your name and spellsinging should be implication enough. If anypony asks, merely informing them that you are an immigrant to Equestria and otherwise evading questions should prevent further inquiries from most. I am afraid that many ponies view other lands as barbaric and dangerous places, and they will assume that you do not wish to discuss an unpleasant past."
Cadance looked as though she'd bitten into a lemon, and I was sure my own expression looked much the same. Of course Celestia would view manipulative lies of omission as preferable to simpler, blunt lies that wouldn't toy with anypony's feelings.
"I'll admit I forgot later, but I originally suggested She be the offspring of a seapony for exactly this reason," I said as pleasantly as I could manage. "It would explain some quirks from her 'parent' while also not requiring detailed cultural knowledge."
Celestia glanced from me to Cadance, her expression shifting from one of calm to one I couldn't quite identify. Dismay? Guilt? Something negative, but I couldn't say what.
"That would also work," she allowed. "However, Voice, should you still wish to follow my daughter—"
I preened, disproportionately pleased. Here I'd been thinking that she had forgotten all about my expressed desire for her to keep calling me that. Remembering without being reminded would earn her some credit even if she might not want to use it as an address.
"–then I'm afraid that a 'minstrel' may not provide the excuse you desire."
Voice hummed thoughtfully, and in so doing, briefly vibrated everything within my little bubble of privacy.
"Handm–" Voice started, then corrected Herself. "Hoofmaiden, then? Servants are almost always invisible."
I tried, but couldn't stop myself from stupidly gaping. Cadance almost shared my expression, and Celestia's features went carefully blank. Voice had to be joking, right? I had 'turn Voice into a servant' on my short list of things absolutely not to ask Voice to do under any circumstances, just a bit below 'no weaponization.'
"I am not suicidal enough to ask you to do anything!" I squeaked.
"Then it's a good thing I'm offering!" She said cheerfully. "I don't mind; it wouldn't even be the first time. It's not as though I feel fatigue, I do not need to be in close proximity to eavesdrop, and I am easily entertained. I am excellent at imitation and would be quick to learn any etiquette worth heeding. You know better than to disrespect me, and the reckless arrogance of ponies who are rude is entertaining all on its own. You even have the same maid uniforms as several other worlds, and the sheer absurdity of ponies wearing those is delightful."
She shrugged, but there was something somehow off about the motion. I wasn't sure She'd gotten all the muscles and bones right after Her last shapeshift. Regardless, no matter how many reasons She listed, I remained stuck on the idea of Her acting like a hoofmaiden. Something as powerful as Her should not be acting like a servant to anypony! If anything, it was supposed to be the other way around; before Her summoning, I'd expected I would need to complete similarly demeaning tasks for an Outsider's entertainment as the cost of my ascension!
"Plus, I'm the Voice of Inadvisable Dreams," Voice added mischievously. "If I don't feature in at least a few dreams, I'm clearly not trying hard enough."
Cadance choked, rapidly turning red with embarrassment, and even Celestia looked taken aback. After a stunned second of silence, she pointedly cleared her throat and changed the subject.
"Sunset, have you decided whether you wish for me to switch to a more understated announcement?"
I rolled my eyes at the obvious attempt to distract from whatever controversial joke Voice had made. I would ask later, but I didn't particularly care. I did glance at Voice just to be certain that She was fine with having the conversation pivot away from Her, but if anything, She seemed delighted by Celestia's efforts, and seemed to be pointing that smile at a red-faced Cadance in particular.
"I don't think I want to change whatever plans you already had in place," I told Celestia. "Some short-term overstimulation from the new sense is something I think I can tolerate better than ponies deciding they want to try their luck over a longer period of time."
Celestia nodded in acknowledgement. Cadance, in contrast, was much more confused. Nothing new there.
"I'm sorry," Cadance said, still blushing and stubbornly pretending all was normal. "I think I'm, um, missing the context for this. Are you referring to more side effects from whatever Voice tried?"
Celestia glanced over and wordlessly deferred to me. I didn't mind; even though I once felt like Cadance must be the kind of mare to share secrets, I'd never actually seen any evidence of such even after Celestia started teaching her. State secrets would have already fallen from Cadance's lips if she couldn't keep them shut.
"For the record, what I'm going through aren't 'side effects' of Voice's ascension attempt," I replied evenly. "She got me part of the way there, just not all the way to full alicornhood. I've been toying with the word 'ascendant' to describe what I am now. But to actually answer your question: I've started feeling feedback based on emotions directed at me. I didn't just leave you to the nonexistent mercy of press parasprites because they're annoying; they now make me feel physically greasy. We're not sure if it's selfishness, greed, both, or something similar that's causing the sensation, but it's disgusting."
I almost offered to jinx her to demonstrate, but decided that would be a bit much. Judging by her flattened ears, Cadance got the idea.
"That does sound miserable," Cadance agreed. "Does it require line of sight? Say, would wearing a cloak and mask help?"
I blinked. Spells requiring that one see the pony themselves rather than their 'form' seemed a bit esoteric for Cadance's level of magical experience.
"I think it's a side effect of an improved ability to sense magic, so I don't think it will," I admitted slowly. "Not unless I resort to full-fledged armor or the like, and it would be a stretch even then. Illusory soap and water, plus real scrubbing, was enough to banish the sensation once I teleported away from the source."
Cadance nodded thoughtfully.
"How does magical insulation work at all if direct line of effect isn't necessary for magic to work?" she questioned.
Where was this brain last week? I didn't ask, though I was sorely tempted to.
"Physically isolating an area also metaphysically isolates it," I summarized, thinking through the problem as I spoke. "Ponies wearing enveloping traveling cloaks are unknowns, and are therefore to be avoided as potential dangers. Ponies in armor might be dangerous or imposing, and are also to be avoided. It's not perfect, though, which is why environmental magic deprivation experiments are so difficult. There's been partial success with using memory charms to make ponies temporarily forget about an area so that they don't contaminate it with thought, but even when memories are sealed, emotions are harder to banish and they're often the bigger problem.
"It also runs into the problem where I'm the one sensing them. Probably. It's worth testing, but either way, doesn't really help with the basic problem of cumulative feedback when faced with a great many ponies in close proximity. I didn't just teleport into the throne room to show off."
Cadance paused and lowered a forkful of mixed vegetables away from her mouth.
"Are we talking about teleportation being hard, or were you not keyed into the wards like everypony seems to think?"
I wasn't sure if she'd read the afternoon edition of some newspaper or figured it out by other means, but either way, word seemed to have gotten around quite quickly. I licked my teeth to make sure they were free of food residue before grinning.
"I didn't just learn how to summon Voice from the Tome, you know. It's probably just as well that the Tome is so difficult to decipher; I'm not sure who wrote it, but I expect they could have been quite dangerous."
Cadance didn't have long to look blank, and I wondered if I'd ever mentioned the Tome of the Trespassers in her presence. If I had, it was clear I hadn't adequately explained.
"They were killed by a Trespasser thirteen years after the end of Discord's reign," Voice said idly, glancing up from where She'd constructed a spiraling tower out of carrot and radish slices.
Celestia's fork clattered to her plate, and she stared at the Outsider with wide eyes.
"I usually try to stay in the present because otherwise I'll miss stories of the here and now," Voice obliviously added, "but I make an exception for checking the origins of whatever inspired my summonings. Having a willing anchor makes banishment far more difficult, but attempts are still annoying to fend off."
Celestia didn't even wait for Voice to finish before getting up and trotting toward me. Pattern recognition kicked in and provided me with two seconds of warning before Celestia draped one wing across me like the world's warmest blanket. Levitating her chair over from the head of the table took several more seconds, but soon enough, I'd been provided with what I'd craved at lunch: Celestia sitting beside me and hugging me to her. She hadn't resumed eating yet, but her intent was clear.
"While I'm not complaining about you coming over here," I said carefully, "I am fine. I didn't realize the Dirge of Dreams was as risky as it turned out to be, I'll admit, and I know better than to try calling any other Outsiders now that I'm more aware of the risks."
Celestia did not seem particularly mollified. If anything, she squeezed me more. My new physiology seemed to think that being treated like a living plushie was a good thing, and truthfully, it never did reach the point of being uncomfortable by cutting off blood circulation or the like.
"That you believe I wished for you to risk yourself at all remains highly troubling," claimed Celestia. "You know my stance on disregarding your own health."
I almost shifted uncomfortably, but didn't want to risk her withdrawing should the movement be misinterpreted. It probably wasn't a good idea to mention that I'd ignored those lectures in my certainty that I was right. My logic really did seem like it made perfect sense at the time.
"It did work," I deflected. "I'm immortal and undying now. So you really don't need to worry about what might have been, because not only did it not happen, but I'm now safe from most dangers. Voice even made sure I can't be eaten."
"That–" Celestia started, then stopped, blinking.
When the silence stretched on longer than a few seconds, I almost turned back to my food to resume eating. Doing so felt as though it would be the equivalent of looking away first during a stare-off, so I just kept staring at Celestia while she processed.
Eventually, she sighed and visibly decided that arguing with me would be more trouble than it was worth.
"I worry that you may be underestimating the effects of your empathy," she said instead, "and do not wish for you to resort to your old defenses should you begin to feel overwhelmed. My original intention was a ball at which we might announce the adoption and formally introduce you to high society at large."
I thought about it and winced, a motion that could not have gone unnoticed with Celestia still cuddling me. A ball meant being close to other ponies, and that meant being splashed by the full force of their emotions. That sounded much more difficult than just overlooking mingling ponies like Celestia did at the Grand Galloping Gala.
"Haven't I already?" I tried.
Setting a few manes on fire was far from an action that had gone without comment. I expected that most of high society knew of me, if only in terms of a pony they should steer clear of.
"Not exactly," Celestia hedged. "I brought you to smaller gatherings and even the Grand Galloping Gala, but there is a vast difference between simple attendance and being properly introduced at a gathering dedicated to you. In high society, such introductions have long marked the point at which a pony could be considered mature enough to properly attend and observe political interactions rather than being sent to play with the other foals. The practice also used to indicate the point at which marriages were viewed as acceptable to arrange. Obviously, we will not be doing anything of the sort, but I expect I will still need to summarily reject a few offers from traditionalist families."
Society introductions sounded like something I should really have been taught about already, but I could see why I hadn't been. Why bother teaching the orphan foal about something she would never go through or need to concern herself with? I was just a charity case, not somepony important. I might need to review etiquette just to make sure my old tutors hadn't otherwise sabotaged me, such as by telling me the etiquette for greater to lesser rank were actually those of equals.
"The timing of announcing your ennoblement and adoption will matter quite a bit, and there are benefits to each approach. Should we do so after you are introduced to individual ponies, many of them will slight you even while you stand beside me, but those slights may help you be forewarned of the character of those ponies. Any insults they pay you will also require apologies once they learn of the adoption, and they will lose some small amount of standing from needing to do so. Other ponies will treat you kindly from the beginning, and I expect many of those ponies may prove stalwart allies if you let them.
"Should I announce the adoption soon after the last of the 'fashionably late' stragglers have filtered in, you should be treated significantly better throughout the ball. However, I expect the gathering to then be filled with invitations to social occasions and attempts to network, some of which may feel like grease despite outward appearances. Unicorn nobility have always been the worst of the three tribes when it comes to sincerity.
"You do not need to decide immediately, and please do not discount your own comfort when doing so. My first instinct would have been to introduce you early to ensure you are treated well afterward, but your empathy complicates matters. If it is anything like a similar phenomena that a pony close to me once experienced, I fear that insincere fawning may be more irksome to you than honest dislike."
I nodded absentmindedly and finally returned to eating. Maybe the next few days would give me enough information to decide, but we might have to play it by ear while I tried to acclimate to the feedback from crowds.
A good thirty seconds or so passed in comfortable silence before Cadance decided to ruin it, as usual.
"So, Voice, something you said earlier — ponies still try to banish you?" Cadance asked, although it seemed more out of curiosity than accusation.
"Not ponies, no," said Voice. "There's more than one reason to be rid of me. One of the most common is the simple fact that most Outsiders are not nearly as friendly as I am, and other species are not as willing as you to try to know me before resorting to drastic measures. Furthermore, it is the nature of dreams to be seeking that which is not, and this can place my summoners in opposition to that which is. One of my favorite aliases assigned by others is 'Enabler of Impossible Delusions.' Another set was 'Devious Demon of Despised Dreams,' 'Destroyer of Destined Dynasties,' and 'Demonstrator of Debauched Desires.' My anchors at that time were in the midst of toppling a tyrannical dynasty and did succeed, so I have opted to call the ex-emperor responsible for those names a sore loser."
I smiled faintly at the jab, but carefully watched Celestia to see if the mention of throne-toppling elicited any alarm. Fortunately, that did not seem to be the case. The story elicited raised eyebrows, but no hostility.
"How many names do you have?" Cadance asked curiously.
Voice shrugged again, but She seemed to have gotten her bones under control; this time, the motion looked natural.
"It varies by language. The meanings are what is important. At my core, I find people with dreams I find interesting, help them fulfill those dreams, and watch whatever other stories I fancy. All else is just wordplay."
Voice smiled brightly, and much like Her earlier pouting, it somehow seemed more pleasing than it should be. I still couldn't say why, but at least it wasn't working at cross-purposes this time.
"Not all the names are accurate, of course. It's not as though I'm actually a demon. You don't have anything to worry about."
Celestia did not move away or withdraw her wing for the entirety of dinner. This actually proved to be slightly more inconvenient than I had anticipated; I wasn't a messy eater or anything, but I still felt hyperaware of her presence and the risk of potentially spilling food on her. Despite my worries, I thought her coat remained unblemished throughout the meal.
With a full stomach and a comfortable position, I would have been perfectly happy to simply fall asleep on the spot and let moving me become Celestia's problem. She got up and nudged me fully awake before I could finish drifting off.
"If I didn't know any better," she said, faintly smiling, "I would think that you didn't want an enchanting lesson before bed. Did you forget?"
My 'empathy' only made it easier for me to tell that the smile was a mask. She still only felt like the warmth of her magic, nothing more. Regardless, the implied threat was enough to push me back to full wakefulness.
"If I did forget, it still wouldn't be as often as you do," I bit back.
Celestia blinked, visibly taken aback, and Cadance buried her face in both hooves.
"Sunset," Cadance groaned, "she was teasing. You don't need to bite her throat out."
Right. Jabs that the target couldn't effectively reply to without outright hostility were supposed to be lighthearted. Sure, that made sense.
"By that logic," I huffed, "I was just reminding her so she doesn't forget again."
Turning my attention and gaze away from Celestia quickly proved to be a mistake. I twitched as the immortal mare casually nuzzled me and effectively threw a wet towel over my resentment in doing so. Even though she pulled away again, it wasn't as unpleasant a transition as having her get up from the table had been.
"I do not wish to be perceived as chiding you," Celestia said carefully. "As such, I will simply say that the sooner we reach my chambers, the sooner your lesson can begin."
At that point, she was just asking for it.
"See you soon, Cadance," I drawled, lighting my horn and redirecting remaining magic that would have been used for continued privacy, plus plenty more.
Teleporting ponies other than oneself was exponentially more difficult based on the size of said ponies, and in some cases, their magic. Conversely, familiarity made the process easier. I'd been around Celestia for almost half my life now, and certainly most of what I could remember. Her magic didn't fight me when I enveloped her; if anything, it seemed to be stabilizing my efforts.
We vanished from the dining room, and reappeared in a red flash just outside Celestia's rooms, a full quarter of my magical reserves having been spent in the blink of an eye — or, wait, no, they were larger now. Maybe a sixth of my reserves. If either of the two guards flanking the twin doors so much as twitched, they were back to normality by the time I actually looked at them. I was guessing they hadn't; it took more than a little jumpscare to get a Royal Guard to move.
Speaking of which, I would need to see about getting Silver Needle assigned to me. I might be unkillable at the moment, but that didn't mean an attack wouldn't hurt or be otherwise inconvenient, especially given how controversial my adoption was likely to be. Nopony in Equestria would dare resort to violence, but our neighbors might not be so sedate if it meant ensuring that Equestria didn't become any more powerful than it already was.
"I should have expected that," Celestia admitted, sighing.
She began trotting forward, and the guards opened the doors for us as we approached — or more accurately, for Celestia. I was just the tagalong. Once we were inside with the doors shut behind us, she headed straight for a polished ebony jewelry box and popped the lock open with all of two seconds of spellcasting.
I couldn't quite manage to see what was inside before Celestia was shutting and locking it again. I could see what she retrieved, though — if only briefly. It was something red and very, very small. She soon wrapped it in a silk handkerchief and trotted toward her — frankly oversized — bed.
I didn't realize her intention until she slid atop it, unfurling the napkin at the foot of her bed, and patted the space beside her with one wing. Apparently, we were going to have the lesson in bed.
I would have thought that needing to lower the Sun would slow her down, but apparently not; even as I approached, she lit her horn and began the laborious process of turning day to night. At this point, I wasn't even especially surprised when she chose to pull me into full-fledged cuddling the moment I was within range. I didn't know what that would do to my ability to retain this lesson, but I didn't have high hopes. At least it meant I would be plenty comfortable while I waited for her to finish.
The red and orange gemstone fragment before me was perhaps the size of a housefly, if not a little smaller. Obviously, this was going to be the first target of our lesson, but I couldn't help but feel as though there had to be more to it than that. Rather than being fully raw, it already felt a little like Celestia. I telekinetically retrieved a magnifying glass from one of the desks at the edges of the room and peered down at the gemstone below. Sure enough, four or five small runes had been carved into its surface. Two of them were connected, so I wasn't entirely sure if they counted as one or two.
Soon enough — unusually quickly, even — day had turned to night, and Celestia returned her attention to me.
"How are you with enchantment thus far?" Celestia asked, mask of kindness in full force.
I was torn between bragging and being humble. Humility might be the better path in this instance; I knew that messing up even a single rune tended to lead to ruined projects, and I wouldn't put it past Celestia to let me fail with overconfidence if she thought it would 'save me' from mistakes down the line.
"I know enough to repair anything I thought I might need to, and can engrave properly," I hedged. "Not much more, though."
Celestia nodded and smiled approvingly. Humility had been the right answer, then.
"Truthfully, that may yet be a good thing," she claimed. "Some of the modern traditions of enchantment have proved — underwhelming, in my opinion. Convenient for everyday use, but not particularly suitable for when we are trying to create something stronger, such as my gift to you."
She nodded toward the gem fragment that I now knew would be fused into a larger whole later on, took an alicorn-sized deep breath, and unceremoniously launched into her lecture.
"In recent centuries, there has been a marked drift toward spells which prove 'reliable,' and I fear much of the art of magic has been neglected as a result. While universal education has elevated the populace to levels undreamt of by even the most optimistic of scholars at the start of my reign, I fear that many fields of magic have become more exclusive, not less. Nowhere is this more obvious than among earth ponies: improved technologies and more comfortable living standards have pushed away the encouragement of necessity, and seem to have resulted in a dramatically reduced proportion of skilled earth pony druids and craftsmares. Few communities have a druid available to call upon when instinct and oral traditions fail their farmers, and craftsmares might dedicate only a few hours to their creations rather than needing to pour their hearts into their work for weeks or even months on end.
"While I am glad that Equestria's prosperity has brought us to the point where ponies no longer need such skills to survive, I still cannot help but feel a sense of loss. Gone are the days where an inexperienced mother might sing a serviceable spell of slumber for her foal and compensate for a lack of knowledge with sheer love. The average unicorn seems to know only a few spells relevant to their interests rather than an eclectic assortment of clumsy, but usable spells. It seems that 'good enough' is no longer good enough."
I kept my thoughts about such fumbling to myself. Honestly, I was glad that ponies seemed to have settled on fewer spells wielded more competently rather than multiple wielded poorly. Needing to see so many ponies wielding magic wrong would be worse than seeing ponies halfheartedly meander through classes at Princess Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns.
"Of course, much of the drift toward modern spells is the simple fact that strictly structured spells are safer," Celestia continued. "A botched spell might leave a pony with an aching horn or worse, but the consequences are then limited to only that pony. After Discord's defeat, many of the threats to Equestria were from High Magic gone awry. I include pegasi and earth ponies in this. I cannot count the number of times that I needed to eliminate furious fog banks trying to drown ponies on dry land, or burn crops so eager to grow that they leeched the life from all around them.
"Much like High Magic, High Enchantment is as much about the emotion that fuels it as the vessel used to hold and shape that magic. More so, even; many an artifact has been corrupted by supplanting the magic that once sustained it. I have seen chimes intended to bring gentle rains be turned to the task of calling killer monsoons, beacons of warmth and hope turned to disseminating despair enough to crush hearts and minds — although as far as I am aware, the sorcerer responsible for corrupting those beacons never did manage to corrupt the Heart that they were based on."
I raised my eyebrows questioningly, unwilling to interrupt her lecture but wanting her to answer anyway. The emphasis she'd placed on Heart hinted at a singular artifact rather than the previously-mentioned hearts of ponies, and I was wondering why I'd never heard of it if it truly was incorruptible. Something this sorcerer had decided to destroy rather than let anypony else get it?
She didn't stop, though, and I scribbled a quick note: ask about Heart artifact? Destroyed?
"I try to ensure that anything I create cannot be twisted without breaking so much of the supportive framework that the item is rendered effectively useless as more than a capacitor," Celestia continued. "Doing so for every item is a daunting prospect, and one I have had neither the time nor energy to do in — a long, long time. I since settled for lesser tokens of favor, and find myself needing to review old journals and half-forgotten books just to refresh the skills necessary to make your gift. Truthfully, another pony was always better at enchantment than me. I handled the forging, and she the enchantment for everything save our gifts to each other."
She stood stock-still for several seconds. Eventually, she took a disturbingly shaky breath and obviously forced herself to continue, calm mask once again wrestled back into place. I was guessing that the pony in question had been a mortal unicorn, and therefore inevitably lost to time. Perhaps Celestia's unexpected skill with 'forging' had been long left to languish out of grief.
"Artifacts are very seldom alive, and therefore inevitably leak magic over time. This leakage may be minimized, but seldom entirely eliminated. In order to ensure that artifacts remain appropriately potent, we require either extreme amounts of power, or must include some method of letting artifacts recharge themselves from their environment. For instance, the Crystal Heart drew upon happiness and the love ponies had for each other in order to keep windigos and winter weather at bay around an entire city, with its method of 'recharging' being periodic celebrations."
I crossed out the note I'd made earlier and half-raised a hoof. It was hard to go further with her wing in the way.
"Was it destroyed? I've never heard of it."
Celestia shook her head, lips quirking upward in a wry smile.
"You have seen it on Cadance."
If Celestia was hoping to shock me, she got her wish. I'd long assumed that Cadance's Cutie Mark was supposed to be a generic gemstone heart. Cutie Mark symbolism was ill-understood and those claiming to be experts were generally quacks, but a valuable heart seemed fairly straightforward. Learning that it was a physical object was honestly shocking all on its own. Perhaps the makers of the Crystal Heart had done such a good job that they'd managed to capture an ideal visual representation of love? Or maybe I had an explanation for how she'd become an alicorn where so many others hadn't.
"Is—she a vessel for it?" I hazarded.
Celestia released a shocking, and likely equally surprised, snort. She soon shook her head with feigned kindness yielding to genuine, if minor, amusement.
"I do not believe so, no," she said. "Between her Cutie Mark and the suspicious circumstances surrounding how she was first found as a foal, I suspect a stasis spell and some familial relationship to the rulers of the Crystal Empire."
That was a more familiar name. Unlike the wars that other nations tried to wage upon Equestria, the Crystal War was prolonged and took some time for Celestia to even learn of, let alone resolve. Celestia had probably personally known Cadance's ancestors. All the doting she'd done suddenly took on a new light. How much was because Cadance was an alicorn, and how much was out of a sense of obligation to those long-deceased rulers? And, if Cadance's treatment wasn't because she was an alicorn, did that mean it was even possible for me to ever truly be safe from Celestia's standards?
I forced myself to not to shake my head and dismissed the concern. Celestia had been treating me much better since I became a proto-alicorn, or 'ascendant.' A sense of obligation might account for some of it, but Celestia felt obligated to her subjects, too, and she didn't treat them the same way. No, Cadance was being treated with genuine affection.
Celestia seemed to realize my attention had strayed, and squeezed me with one wing until I refocused on her.
"Emotion is not necessarily the most reliable, but it is certainly the most powerful of all magics available to ponies. If I had the time, I might be able to create something similar to the Crystal Heart in order to protect Canterlot from casual assault. Such an artifact could be overcome with time, but it would be a serviceable supplement. Today, I do not seek to protect a city."
Despite me not saying or doing anything to prompt it, Celestia spontaneously leaned over to nuzzle me. I had to fight to stay still and not lean into it. I wasn't a foal.
"I cannot convince you of my sincerity," Celestia acknowledged. "That will not stop me from trying."
Celestia's horn lit, and my awareness was abruptly overwhelmed by sensations far more bewildering than anything the Dirge of Dreams had been able to muster. It was like a drunken weathermare had slammed straight into a stormcloud at high velocity. One moment, Celestia's presence was the sedate, distant warmth of the Sun. The next, warmth suffused everything I was, calling upon memories of Celestia sheltering me beneath her wing after a nightmare or the excited early days after she first chose me as her pupil. For once, all that warmth was targeted at me and me alone rather than being shared with the entirety of Equestria. That much of it ended up flooding our surroundings didn't change its intended target.
The flood didn't stop, either. It soon became difficult for me to perceive the room around us, because as far as my senses were concerned, everything around us was just more magic. On any other day, I might be upset by the sheer waste, but that really was not my primary consideration right then. How in Equestria could Celestia seriously argue that she wasn't a goddess when she could do this?
"I do love you," said Celestia, almost singing the words as she smiled down at me. "Though words and neglect have already wounded you, I can shield you from any and every Nightmare that might threaten your mind and soul. I promise, Sunset, you will be protected."
Her horn brightened until I could no longer stand to look at it, its luminescence far exceeding even the brightest shows she put on during the annual Summer Sun Celebration — and then, all at once, the light from Celestia's horn winked out. The immortal ruler of Equestria slumped against me moments later.
For a terrifying few seconds, I thought that she'd exhausted herself to the point of needing hospitalization, which I hadn't been certain was possible for an alicorn — but no, her breathing was normal and her horn still radiated wisps of magic. She had simply fallen straight from spellcasting into slumber.
I couldn't help but stare at the now-glowing gem fragment on the bed before us. Partially glowing with a deceptively soft golden light, much like a miniature star, that far understated the amount of power the gem now held. Although I would not have expected that much magic to fit inside such a small gemstone, Celestia had somehow managed to squeeze it inside a single rune. Several others upon the gem's surface remained dull and inert. I would not be so moronic as to assume that made Celestia's existing work weak; if anything, destroying the gemstone might wreck Celestia's entire bedroom and then some. Quite a bit more, really. I wasn't certain that even Cloudsdale's weather factories would gather this much magic in one place, and this was just the beginning.
Okay, I thought hysterically. She's definitely taking this project seriously.
The basis of enchantment told me that the centerpiece should be larger than the rest in order to ensure it kept its influence. At this size, though, I couldn't imagine Celestia etching any smaller. That meant her gift to me might not have a centerpiece, and every rune would need to be this powerful, or as near as.
I telekinetically unclasped my necklace and floated it near the lone gemstone for comparison, careful to keep my own magic from touching the charged fragment. If I were to assume one gem fragment every four days, with one rune charged per night, then finishing an item the size of my necklace would be the work of an entire season.
Celestia had said this was to be a bigger version of my necklace. How much larger had been left ambiguous, but any appreciable increase would catapult this working into a project over a year in scope. Even if I halved the duration by assuming multiple weaker runes slaved to each primary, this project might take multiple years if she increased it to the size of my Cutie Mark for maximum magical resonance.
…She couldn't keep doing this for anywhere near that long, could she? I couldn't be entirely certain, but between that talk of emotion, the circumstances around her magical display, the sheer amount of raw power present but nonetheless stable, and the ability of this magic to occupy gems far too small for it, I strongly suspected she might actually be using love as a magical reactant. No matter what Celestia forced herself to feel in the moment, that wasn't something she could maintain for any length of time. Not for me, and not when it might mean exhausting herself night after night. Even if my vague hypothesis of being viewed as a young immortal might be true, instincts could only carry her so far.
But what if she could keep doing this? I'd seen her act genuine when she was pretending to be Spring Hail. If Celestia spent long enough convincing herself that she loved me, it might actually become true. All I would need to do was avoid shattering whatever ridiculous image of me she'd built in her head until it was too late.
Either way, with this as a basis for comparison, my tentative plans for Celestia's new regalia seemed woefully insufficient. I might not have the experience necessary to match whatever she made, but I would at least try.
My 'empathy' only made it easier for me to tell that the smile was a mask. She still only felt like the warmth of her magic, nothing more. Regardless, the implied threat was enough to push me back to full wakefulness.
Yea, pretty sure big C´s Corona of Sunlight overpowers her emotions...and Sunset has grown to rely and trust her emphaty...well let us hope this gets resolved fast before Sunset drops even further down the misunderstanding hole
Yea, pretty sure big C´s Corona of Sunlight overpowers her emotions...and Sunset has grown to rely and trust her emphaty...well let us hope this gets resolved fast before Sunset drops even further down the misunderstanding hole
I think it's more than Celestia's love towards Sunset, and ponies in general, is such a basic element of her being that it never changes, and sunset just assumes it is her magic.
I wonder if this is a sliver of the Element of Honesty left behind from when Celestia was forced to use the set on Nightmare Moon and break their connection.
Most ponies never get introduced to society tht way, so it makes sense nobody bothered teaching Sunset anything about it, and not just because she was an orphan.
She is going to need to learn lot of social rules going forward if she wants to know what other ponies expect of her, or why they do things they do.
Also.
Sunset, the reason the food looks nice is because the ponies making it are some of the most well trained and dedicated chefs around, taking insane amounts of pride in their work.
They are not going to do half measures on any part of the food they are making for their possibly literal god.
Suggesting that they could just, not, is basicly someone walking up to you and suggesting you could just do a "good enough" spell, instead of doing it right.
Except unlike you, they probably have lot more laid back attitude of others making a shoddy sandwich than you have of ponies casting a good enough spell.
Sweet Pony Jesus, Sunsets tinfoil hats need tinfoil hats of their own. Immediately turning from that grand act and still steadily lying to herself hurts to see.
Honestly? It is not as unreasonable as you might think. She has lived her whole life thinking that sensing emotions with magic is normal and everybody does it since she never bothered to ask(possibly due to bad experiences with Ponies giving stupid answers to her questions). She saw everyone´s emotions change...safe for one pony...Celestia, that´s why she thinks her shows of love are an act, a mask. She trusts her senses implicitly, thinking she never actually loved her in a deeper way...which slots in well with her picture of Celestia being the "Perfect Ruler", having no time for silly things like Emotion, too bad for her that Celestia is actually just a really old Goof deep down and can fake the "Royal Empress" act well enough.
Sunset needs to be introduced to the concept of "eating with your eyes first." Honestly, I think Sunset would probably enjoy complex cooking.
Sunset, please talk aloud more so other people can realize how messed up the inside of your head is. You've made progress on some things, but you haven't really made any progress on changing meta level behaviors to help make it easier to change. I wonder if Voice will step in.
Sunset, the reason the food looks nice is because the ponies making it are some of the most well trained and dedicated chefs around, taking insane amounts of pride in their work.
They are not going to do half measures on any part of the food they are making for their possibly literal god.
Suggesting that they could just, not, is basicly someone walking up to you and suggesting you could just do a "good enough" spell, instead of doing it right.
Except unlike you, they probably have lot more laid back attitude of others making a shoddy sandwich than you have of ponies casting a good enough spell.
Dang. At this point, I think the only thing that would be able to get through to Sunset at the moment is Voice directly telling her that what she is feeling is Celestia's emotions and not her magic. And I don't thi-
"And I will not be doing that. The reader should not interfere with the story too much, and seeing my Summoner's misconceptions, and the grief they cause to all those who wish she would understand is too delightful."
Voice smiled brightly, and much like her earlier pouting, it somehow seemed more pleasing than it should be. I still couldn't say why, but at least it wasn't working at cross-purposes this time.
"My 'empathy' only made it easier for me to tell that the smile was a mask. She still only felt like the warmth of her magic, nothing more. Regardless, the implied threat was enough to push me back to full wakefulness."
Sunset, you do realize that your observation is also entirely congruent with the hypothesis that Celestia loves you, has always loved you, and continues to love you, without flagging or failing ever? You're the one saying she's good with masks, so maybe the Perfect Ruler is the mask and the momma pony loving her daughteru has always been the real one underneath?
"…She couldn't keep doing this for anywhere near that long, could she? I couldn't be entirely certain, but between that talk of emotion, the circumstances around her magical display, the sheer amount of raw power present but nonetheless stable, and the ability of this magic to occupy gems far too small for it, I strongly suspected she might actually be using love as a magical reactant."
IS SHE FINALLY GETTING IT!?
"No matter what Celestia forced herself to feel in the moment, that wasn't something she could maintain for any length of time. Not for me, and not when it might mean exhausting herself night after night. Even if my vague hypothesis of being viewed as a young immortal might be true, instincts could only carry her so far.
Aaaand the answer is no. It's a swing and a miss for the resident empath! Batting about a negative billion for the moment, that record is not clearing any time soon!
Celestia's fork clattered to her plate, and she stared at the Outsider with wide eyes.
"I usually try to stay in the present because otherwise I'll miss stories of the here and now," Voice obliviously added, "but I make an exception for checking the origins of whatever inspired my summonings. Having a willing anchor makes banishment far more difficult, but attempts are still annoying to fend off."
Celestia didn't even wait for Voice to finish before getting up and trotting toward me.
"If I didn't know any better," she said, faintly smiling, "I would think that you didn't want an enchanting lesson before bed. Did you forget?"
My 'empathy' only made it easier for me to tell that the smile was a mask. She still only felt like the warmth of her magic, nothing more. Regardless, the implied threat was enough to push me back to full wakefulness.
Nah, she seems to have no actual inherent mental problems.
She's just, incredibly poorly socialized and internalized lot of toxic messages as a small child.
