How did it come to this? Celestia wondered, eyes closed and a hoof on her chin, though try as she might, she could not seem to find the answer. The lesson had started off wonderfully. Even at her tender age, Twilight had all but mastered basic levitation. So much so, in fact, that the requests Celestia made of her were apparently boring the young filly.

Though her experience with young ponies was limited, the same did not hold true for her teaching experience. She switched up the curriculum by throwing in harder challenges the filly couldn’t possibly ever have encountered, much less trained for. Levitating oneself, for example, was a great deal more difficult than one would think, as Twilight demonstrated by repeatedly slamming herself into the floor until worries arose that she might hurt herself.

Of course, other assignments came with their own brand of problems. Lifting heavy objects was very challenging, and more than once Celestia had to catch an object before it made a hole in the floor. It wasn’t until Celestia asked her to move several small spheres in circles around one another (and Twilight broke some very expensive stargazing equipment) that Celestia finally decided to surround the two of them with a shield.

It took Twilight quite some time and instruction to get the hang of levitating multiple items, and even then she could only handle two to three at a time. Despite that, the lesson proceeded more or less as planned. Illusionary spells weren’t usually taught in elementary school due to the intricacy of visualizing such a spell, much less casting it. That too Twilight demonstrated—much to her chagrin—by conjuring some of the most fearsome monstrosities Celestia had ever seen, something Celestia later explained was due to the inconsistency of her spell matrix. Still, at least there had been improvement in the young filly’s levitation technique.

The train had gone off the proverbial rails some time after that when Twilight, drenched in her own sweat, had asked if she could take a break. Her lack of stamina concerned Celestia. For a moment, she wondered if she shouldn’t have Twilight redo some of the more simple spells while adding physical exertion to toughen her up a little, but she eventually dismissed the idea. If they weren’t careful, too much training as a filly could leave a pony swaybacked for life, and Celestia didn’t wish that on her new student.

A little while into the break, Twilight had gotten up and asked with youthful innocence if they could play a game of tag, or perhaps hide and seek. Celestia had valiantly resisted, until Twilight brought out two soulful eyes so big it was a miracle they fit in their sockets. A curt nod and a jubilant cheer later, Celestia had found out that Twilight’s idea of those two games wasn’t like most foals her age.

In hindsight, it should have been obvious from the filly’s inquiries about ‘flowy manes’, but at the time it was a nebulous clue at best. Currently, Celestia’s long, flowing, chromatic mane was being used as, in order: A swing set, a hidey hole, a makeshift slide, and a blanket. It was bad enough that Twilight showed no signs of becoming bored with her new playmate, but Celestia’s mane actually seemed to enjoy the attention. If she hadn’t known any better, she would have been convinced it was alive.

Just when she had decided enough was enough, her position became even more precarious than it had been. There was a struggle and somepony tugging at her mane, more than they had been at any rate, followed by a tiny voice that squeaked “Princess? I’m stuck...”

It was one of those things she wasn’t used to hearing and didn’t have an immediate response to, which was why it took her a while to come up with a solution. Simple it was not, but the definition of simple was rarely the same when one had the power to move the sun on a regular basis. She wove a teleportation spell, scaling back the power so she would only shift a few feet from where she had begun. With a small flash she was on all fours again, no worse for the wear, though the same couldn’t be said for the filly still tangled in her mane. Twilight looked like she had been set on fire and then hastily put out. Her entire face was blackened and some parts of her mane were still alight, though that was swiftly resolved by a second spell from Celestia.

She cleared her throat and smiled apologetically. “Sorry about that, Twilight.”

Despite her fireproofed appearance, Twilight’s smile was still bright as ever. “I’m sorry too, Princess,” she replied, even if she did not look particularly guilty.

Untangling Twilight proved to be a much harder task than she had anticipated and only after giving her student a show in expert multi-object manipulation—meaning she controlled each strand of hair individually—could she seperate the filly from the mane.

Looking around for a cloth and eventually using a foreleg to wipe the soot of off Twilight’s face made her feel more like a mother than ever before. It left an impressive stain on her otherwise pristine coat, but that did in no way weigh up against the sense of satisfaction she got from it. Sunny may have had the best of intentions, but this time, her advice was wrong.

“Are you ready to continue, Twilight?”

Twilight shook herself thoroughly, displacing even more of the black dust she was coated with before smiling up at her mentor and nodding. “Ready, Princess!”

Sparing a smile for the eagerness, Celestia lit up her horn once more and recreated the small Daring Do from Twilight’s books. It garnered the same reaction from Twilight as when it had been conjured back in her room, albeit with less furtive glancing and more giggling.

“Pay attention, Twilight,” she began, breaking down the illusion to just a basic framework of connected lines. “Creating a believable illusion requires you to understand the subject matter. For living creatures, it is important to know how they would naturally behave in any action you want to make it perform. Creating an illusion of a stationary object is therefore much easier.”

Twilight’s nodding, which had been fast to the point of frantic during Celestia’s explanation, slowed to a more thoughtful pace. “So if I tried making a rock, it wouldn’t look so bad?”

“Exactly, Twilight,” Celestia replied with a smile. “Rocks don’t move unless pushed, so they are a good way to practice, although making a rock move takes its own brand of experimentation and—” She stopped when she noticed Twilight’s expression fade back into an uncomprehending frown. “Nevermind that. For now, I want you to try and create an illusionary rock with your magic.”

Twilight hopped over to the center of the protective sphere Celestia had created and braced herself, making the same mistake that troubled her while trying to raise the sun and every so often since they had started the lesson.

All Celestia had to do was remind her of the explanations they had gone through a dozen times already. “Watch your posture, Twilight.”

The glow from Twilight’s horn dissipated almost immediately and she smiled sheepishly before pulling her legs in a little and straightening her back. “Sorry, Princess.”

“It’s alright. Just take it slow and focus on creating the image of a rock.”

Twilight began again, lighting up her horn and closing her eyes. Inch by inch she dropped back into the wrong posture but caught herself before Celestia said anything about it. Despite her improving sense of stature while casting, however, even her illusion of a rock was an abject failure. It was only the bare framework of an illusion much like the one Celestia had created but flicked in and out of existence every time Twilight so much as twitched.

After several minutes of trying her hardest, Twilight dropped the spell and tried to catch her breath. “Did I... Did I do it?” she asked, huffing and gasping like a fish out of water.

“Not quite, Twilight, but you’re making progress,” Celestia said, again wondering how much she should expect from Twilight. “Let’s try that again. Try to focus on nothing but the image of a rock.”

Twilight sat down on her haunches, her breathing slowing steadily. “But I don’t know what kind of rock I should be thinking about.”

“What about a rock you had at home, in the yard?”

“My mom likes gardening so we don’t have any rocks in the garden,” Twilight said, shaking her head.

“Maybe one you’ve seen on your way to school?”

A helpless shrug paired with another shake of the head was Twilight’s response. “I don’t know...”

Humming thoughtfully, Celestia surveyed the room until her eye fell on her Daring Do projection, still merrily prancing about. “Has Daring Do ever seen a special rock?”

Twilight put a hoof to her chin, her face scrunching up in thought. “Maybe... ‘The Rock of a Thousand Mysteries’ from the ‘Race for the Wonders of the World’?”

“And what does this rock look like?”

“It’s big, and a little round, but flat on the top so you can sit there. And when Daring sits on it she summons a din...” Twilight stopped and frowned. “A gin? Deegin? It’s... a ghost who can do magic.”

“A Djinn?”

“Yes! Only this one can’t do any magic anymore because he was fired from his job, but he tells her when and where her arch nemesis, Ahuizotl, went!”

Celestia chuckled at her student who still had fillyish struggles with words the first moment, and spoke like a scholar the next. She gestured for Twilight to stop before she got too far from the point and said “Let’s go back to the rock. Do you think you can visualise that?”

Finally, Twilight nodded. “I’ll... try.”

While Twilight set herself up to try again, Celestia turned her attention to the world outside the windows. Even with the brief break in between, they had been talking about and rehearsing magic for three hours already. In the past, a full day of lessons could take anywhere between eight and fourteen hours, depending on the students themselves. Several of them had pushed themselves to the point of exhaustion, but then, they had all been old enough to know their limits.

Then again, a filly as young as she is will likely complain about being tired long before it becomes an issue.

Choosing to forgo the item that usually topped her list when teaching a new student—namely pushing them to their limits until they collapsed—was a calculated risk. On the one hoof, it was important for her to know what her students were capable of, which allowed for a more directed approach to teaching and helped them learn their limits at the same time. But on the other, putting a burden like that on a filly who hadn’t yet reached maturity—nevermind one who had already demonstrated that she possessed more power than a dozen unicorns put together—could very well be another negative association with magic for Twilight. That in particular was something Celestia wanted to avoid.

Still, perhaps four hours is enough for today. Those acceptance letters won’t write themselves, and checking in on Sunny might not be a bad idea.

She was brought out of her introspection by Twilight’s voice. “I can’t do it, Princess. I’m not good enough at magic,” the filly said meekly, frowning and keeping her gaze on the floor in front of her.

Celestia chuckled softly and walked back to the center of the dome. “Twilight, how many times do you think I have heard that sentence?”

Twilight looked up slowly, almost carefully. “A... a lot?”

“Precisely,” Celestia said with a nod. “And how many times do you think it was the truth?”

“Never?”

Celestia shook her head softly. “Unfortunately, that is not the reality of things. There have been some ponies who genuinely weren’t good enough at magic to remain my student. However...” She walked over, and lay down in front of Twilight so that their eyes were at the same height. “You are. If something is difficult, that doesn’t mean that it is impossible or that you aren’t good enough.”

“But we’ve been practicing for hours and I still can’t do it,” Twilight said, frowning again.

“And it will take dozens more before you can, and several hundreds after that before you are an expert.” Celestia smiled encouragingly. “That doesn’t mean that you are not good enough, Twilight, just that you need more practice. Now how about I demonstrate the spell before you try again?”

“Okay, Princess...”

Beginning her demonstration right away was made somewhat arduous by the fact that she had lain down, but after a few seconds to get up, she slowly assembled an illusion of a cube, starting with only a few lines. “For every spell, but illusions especially, it is important to start with the basic framework,” she told Twilight, adding a line every few seconds to give her student ample time to study them. “Simple geometric lines work best when you’re just starting out, though they don’t make for much of an illusion.”

“Because there aren’t a lot of cubes in the real world?”

“Very good, but knowing that can give you some interesting applications for a cube shape... like teaching a young filly about the basics of illusion.” She gave Twilight a wink and delighted in the smile she got in return. “Which means that, right now, a cube is just what we need.” In the part of her mind devoted to the spell, Celestia imagined the outside of the cube which she slowly let trickle down onto the illusion in the center of the room. “The next step is where imagining what an object would look like is very important. If it looks fake in your mind, it will likely look fake to anypony else as well.”

“But what does a perfect cube look like? I’ve never seen one before...”

Celestia laughed inwardly while she let the image in her mind color itself with a rosepetal red pattern. “You are looking at one right now, Twilight.”

The filly carefully scooted forward inch by inch until she was close enough to touch it. “I thought it was just an illusion?” she asked while bringing her hoof down. She looked surprised when her hoof collided with the cube before looking at Celestia with a renewed awe.

Celestia couldn’t take it anymore and laughed out loud, her illusionary cube disappearing along with the protective dome around the room. She rolled onto her side, clutching her belly with her hooves until Twilight appeared in front of her. The filly looked at her uncomprehendingly, and it took her but a moment to remember that there were guards present, both of whom were looking at her in a similar fashion.

“Did I do something wrong, Princess?”

Reigning in her laughter was a little harder than she would have liked. Still, Celestia quickly got to her hooves and adjusted her regalia. “Ahem...Tell me, Twilight, what do you think happened there?”

“I poked the cube and you started laughing...” Twilight rubbed the back of her head with a hoof. “Did you magically link it to your tickle sensory thingies?”

Even for all her restraint, Celestia couldn’t help but chuckle again. “An interesting theory, but no. Why do you think the cube was solid?”

“Because you didn’t make an illusion?”

“Or?” Celestia asked.

“Or...” Twilight looked back at where the cube had been. “Because you used magic to make it seem like it wasn’t?”

Celestia nodded. “When we talk about illusions, what we mean are images and pictures. Things that fool the eyes and not much else, but those are just the basics.” Though Twilight listened with perked ears, the filly’s attention seemed to have drifted. With a sigh she recreated the cube and gave Twilight a gentle push in its direction. “I am sorry, Twilight. I keep getting ahead of myself. Take your time to inspect it, and then try to make your own.”

“Okay!” Twilight set to her task eagerly and inspected the cubed image from every direction. She even tried to tap it with a hoof a few more times and let out a little ‘awh’ in disappointment every time it went right through. After a few minutes of inspection, it seemed she had learned all she could and tried to make one herself once again.

Watching the way Twilight wove spells together was fascinating. They weren’t particularly well designed, nor had Celestia expected them to be, but they worked. She suspected that the fact Twilight’s magic worked as it did would upset a whole lot of professors in her school for gifted unicorns. Ever since the formation of the Board of Magical Safety, a lot of unicorns were convinced there was one specific way by which they might cast magic; an assumption which Twilight’s casting would shatter like glass.

To say that she watched Twilight cast might have been the wrong terminology. Pure magical threads and runes were rarely, if ever, visible without a few heavy enchantments. Rather, if she closed her eyes, she could feel Twilight stitch ambient energy together through her horn, which was why she immediately noticed when something was off.

Twilight was drawing on way more power than she would need for a simple illusion. When Celestia opened her eyes she saw that Twilight’s intended target, an empty space next to her own cube, was being assaulted by magical lightning arcing from Twilight’s horn. She pushed aside the fear of another magical explosion and rushed forward. Before she got halfway, however, Twilight’s eyes briefly lit up before the magic cut out and she slumped forward with a stifled groan.

“Twilight!”

Her heart hammered in her chest while she sprinted the rest of the way. It filled itself with fear while her head tried to surpass it by filling with the much more potent panic. She tried to kneel before she had reached Twilight and ended up sliding the last few yards. Her first instinct was to roll Twilight over with her magic and check if the filly was still alive, but something made her hesitate. She knew that primed, unspent magic could prove volatile if disturbed and cause untold damage to both the holder and the one that activated it. Rather than taking the time to carefully diffuse and guide the excess energy away, she pushed Twilight over with her muzzle instead, before putting an ear to her chest.

Still breathing. Good.

Her guards were right behind her, coming to a halt only seconds later. “Is she alright, Princess?”

Celestia shook her head. “I don’t know.” She turned to the two of them, halting for a moment while she pushed out the panic that was gaining the upper hoof in the struggle for her mental faculties. “Aegis, go get a doctor. No, two. A dozen if you can. Rook, make sure that the infirmary staff knows we’re coming.” A quick pair of salutes saw the two off in the direction of the door after which Celestia returned her attention to the filly who had somehow endeared herself to the princess in only a few days time. Don’t die on me now, Twilight.

Trying to get Twilight off the floor only made it clear to Celestia how much she relied on her magic. By the time she did finally manage to get Twilight onto her back using a combination of a hoof and both of her wings, panic had all but taken over and she bolted for the infirmary, slowing down only to ensure that Twilight was still secure on her back.

The fact that the infirmary was on the other side of the castle didn’t help Celestia’s state of mind. She thundered through the long hallways, using her magic to shove the ponies that were in the way aside if she couldn’t avoid them. One of the big double doors sealing the public area of the castle off from the living quarters was unlucky enough to be closed when she arrived there. The left half of the door, which barely held on to its hinges, escaped with only major charring across it while its more unfortunate counterpart was completely obliterated during Celestia’s passing.

Brief considerations were going through her mind about skipping the long winding hallways altogether and simply going through the wall. The small rational part of her mind that remained thankfully managed to persuade her from doing as much by suggesting that it could harm the filly who had started squirming and whining on her back... followed by a few items that were of little consequence to her right then, like the stability of the castle.

She cursed her own ineptitude. Twilight could very well be badly injured and all because she did not have enough experience dealing with foals. I should have stopped her earlier. I should have started with something easier. I should have done something! Round and round it went in her head, tempered only by the knowledge that Twilight was still in danger.

Finally, after skidding around the last corner during which she took a few bricks out of with her wing to avoid crashing into the opposite wall, the infirmary came into view. It wasn’t as big as a real hospital, nor as well equipped. Given that the castle itself housed a population equivalent to that of a small town, however, it was staffed by qualified medical personnel, which was precisely what she needed at that point.

Celestia’s little trip from one end of the castle to the other had taken only minutes and had likely left some more wayward destruction behind. All of that information only came across as a tiny voice in the back of her mind while she carefully tilted to the side to let Twilight slide onto a hospital bed via her left wing. Several ponies that had seen her entry looked a little bewildered at her sudden appearance, but at least the medical staff knew what had to be done and rushed forward to check on Twilight.

“She might have a charge of primed magic,” she said in between panting. Now that she allowed her body to feel the strain she had put upon it; the pain and exhaustion that made themselves known across her body made her add a mental note to take up her wartime training regimen again. A few of the medical staff flocked to her instead, worried about the bits of wood that were stuck in her chest and were painting the coat beneath it red, but she waved them off towards Twilight and pulled the pieces out with nary a grimace.

“What happened, Princess?” one of the nurses asked while soaking a small cloth in alcohol.

Though she presented a stoic facade while she and Twilight were being tended to, her inner turmoil was raging on unabated. Pushing away the panic and the fear had been easy enough once she knew Twilight was in good hooves, but that didn’t stop her mind from making accusations. They ranged from the resonable to the completely unrealistic, to the point where a thought came to her that she could have prevented everything if only she only had known more medical techniques.

Thankfully, the fact that there were ridiculous ideas among the storm of self-chastisement helped her quiet down somewhat. She finally sat down and allowed the nurse to tend to her properly, using the alcohol soaked cloth to dab at the blood stains on Celestia’s coat.

“I made a mistake,” she said simply, and left it at that. Her mood became somber when she realised how hard it was going to be for Twilight to use magic after this; or if Twilight would even want to remain her student after assigning the blame of it all to Celestia, something which she felt more than deserving of.

The nurse nodded, and though it was clear she had a lot of burning questions, she kept silent, which Celestia was grateful for. She was almost as grateful when Aegis arrived with four more doctors, all of whom were directed towards the bed the groaning filly was lying in.

She could swear she felt her heart stop when, after a brief deliberation, one of the unicorn doctors filled a syringe with a clear liquid and administered it to Twilight. Part of her mind was screaming at her to stop them lest she let another mistake happen, but with a supreme surge of will, she told herself that they knew what they were doing, young as they were in comparison.

“How is she?” Celestia asked when the outside doctors said their goodbyes and left the way they came. They’re going to charge an exorbitant rate, her mind whispered. She shooed the thought away and turned back to the collection of the doctors that lived in the castle.

The aging stallion looked at each of his colleagues in turn and only spoke after receiving a nod from each of them. “She will be alright, Princess. The problem seems to have been that she was trying to cast highly advanced spells whilst suffering from a minor case of malnutrition.”

“How minor?” she asked, realising from the looks on the doctor’s faces that her own must have featured a mixture of anger, fear, and fury, and that at least one of those three had seeped into her voice as well; right before coming to the conclusion that she didn’t care.

Another glance, another series of nods. “We can’t determine it exactly, Princess. But if I had to make an educated guess, I would surmise two, maybe three days at the most. Normally it would not pose a problem to a filly her age beyond a little dizziness and perhaps a little nausea. The demands her casting put on her body, however, amplified the need for sustenance, which in turn caused her to pass out.”

Between Twilight’s excitement and the food fight, it didn’t surprise Celestia that Twilight being hungry was the problem. “Bottom line?” she asked.

“The bottom line is that she will need to stay in bed and rest for at least two days, but beyond that, nothing is wrong with her. Though we recommend somepony to watch her carefully and make sure she eats properly.”

She let out a breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding, and most of the tension that had been on her since the whole thing started drained with it. She let her expression, whichever one it was, slacken and sighed in relief. “Thank you for your swift response, everypony,” she told the equally relieved-looking doctors. With the tension gone, the responsibilities came flooding back along with a groan when she realised that her actions were going to make thing a lot more... interesting for Sunny.

“When will she wake up?” she asked, slipping back into the mantle of ruler as easily as most ponies breathed. Her voice returning to a warm pleasant tone and her face a calm gentle smile that put everypony at ease.

“Shouldn’t be too long, Princess,” another of the doctors said. “I expect she’ll be awake in an hour or two.”

Celestia nodded. “I want somepony to stay with her until I get back,” she said before getting up and striding out of the doorway, heedless of the nurse’s attempts to draw attention to the blood stains on her coat. She had fires to put out, both the literal and figurative kind.

Rook immediately fell into step beside her, and after only a few minutes, so too did Aegis, looking about as exhausted as she herself felt. “Thank you both,” she said at length as they made their way towards the courtroom.

“At your service, Princess,” Aegis replied in a chipper tone, while Rook just grunted. Though it was considered rude by most and an offense to the princess’ ‘sensibilities’ by others, Celestia was glad for a guard like Rook who did not even deign to respond to compliments and thanks. Though she wanted and despised ponies questioning her motives depending on the situation, ruling a kingdom would not have been possible without a few ponies that didn’t constantly stop to question everything; just as it wouldn’t work without ponies that did.

At the moment, however, she wished there were more ponies that didn’t feel the need to question everything. Especially when they passed the charred pieces of a carpet that had caught fire in her passing and had burned to a crisp before it could be put out. The nobles are going to have a field day with this.

And all of it could have been avoided if you had just paid a little more attention to your new student.

She was right. Though she wished that hadn’t been the case.

The courtroom, which was normally merely busy, was filled to bursting with ponies that were worried about the attacker that had waltzed through the castle without opposition, ponies that were worried about all the damage another perpetrator had caused, and ponies that were just worried; and all of them were looking at a lone, tense-looking unicorn mare who sat halfway up on the dias.

Sunny was sweating bullets, and had apparently been abandoned by any and all ponies she could lean on for support. It didn’t sit right with Celestia. Rare were the disturbances at the castle that didn’t have something to do with the alicorn, and she felt they might as well take it out on her rather than drowning her appointed replacement in needling questions and pointed looks.

“Wait outside,” she told her guards before disappearing in a flash of light and reappearing at the top of dias. “Ponies!” she shouted. The roar of the crowd continued unabated, her words having as much effect as a leaf in a hurricane.

“SILENCE!”

Amplifying her voice to the point where it shook the foundations of the castle might have been going a little overboard, but it got the job done. Where before there had been enough voices that their collective jabbering sounded like the ocean, now the room was so silent that one could hear a pin drop.

Letting go of her magic, Celestia continued in a normal tone of voice although she knew that she didn’t completely succeed in keeping her exhaustion out of it. “Anypony who has any questions about what transpired in the castle in the last hour, please raise your hooves.” She sighed when roughly three quarters of the ponies present raised their hooves and inclined her head in an apologetic nod. “I apologise to any of you that were frightened. The commotion was caused by myself whilst trying to get a pony to the infirmary in time.” Holding up a hoof when ponies started talking amongst themselves and congratulating the princess on her thoughtfulness helped everything settle down relatively quickly. “If you have any further questions, you may direct them towards Sunny Scrolls in an orderly fashion, but for now, please vacate the room. This court will adjourn for a brief recess.”

With a little help from the guards to make sure things remained orderly, the big hall was swiftly emptied, leaving only the two guards at the door, Celestia herself, and a none too pleased-looking Sunny Scrolls. “What happened?” the mare asked, turning around on the dias so she could look at Celestia. When she had, however, her mouth fell open and remained there, much to Celestia’s confusion.

“Sunny? Is something wrong?”

In two steps and a jump Sunny was next to her, inspecting her from up close. “Princess, you’re hurt! How did... what happened?”

“A consequence of a consequence.”

“Princess!” Sunny shook with suppressed anger. Handling court all by herself hadn’t left much of her composure intact; then again, that too was partially Celestia’s fault. “What mistake did you make that left you bloodied?”

Celestia beckoned one of the guards near the door over with a subtle wing gesture while she regarded Sunny, waiting for her to calm down a little. “My mistake was getting ahead of myself in Twilight’s lectures. She collapsed and I rushed her to the infirmary,” she said calmly.

“But that doesn’t explain—”

“During which I went through a statue and a door, made an indentation in three different corners of the castle and almost barged through a wall.” Sunny’s retord died in her throat, and she closed her mouth a few seconds later, which gave Celestia the opportunity ask some questions of her own. “Where is the council?”

Sunny shook her head. “I don’t know. They weren’t here when I arrived.”

Celestia looked at the guard that had come to a halt at a respectful distance. “Could you locate the councilmembers and tell them that they are expected to return to the castle?” she asked him. He saluted and took off in a canter while Celestia looked back at Sunny.

Even through the facade of annoyance that the mare had been wearing like a shield, it was clear that she was exhausted, which was something Celestia was more familiar with than she would like. Even if it wasn’t strictly necessary to remember everypony both by name and problem, it did make for a more efficient court proceeding. However, efficient also meant that more ponies came by in a day, and only having one pony to handle the proceedings was more than a little taxing on that individual.

Perhaps Sunny had intuited the appraising look Celestia had given her, or perhaps it was due to the fact that she had over a decades worth of experience around Celestia, but without any prompting she said, “Court went well, for the most part anyway.”

Celestia let a smile play across her lips. “I am glad to hear it. Though perhaps—”

Vehemently shaking her head, Sunny said, “No. I took this job to give you more free time in your schedule- Having you here would defeat the purpose.”

“I was going to suggest we discuss the fate of the current ‘council’ and the formation of a new one,” Celestia replied innocently, enjoying a few all too brief moments of levity watching Sunny sputter before giving her a measured laugh. “Did you have anypony in mind?”

“Yes, Princess. Several of them, in fact.”

I just have one, and I would like to get back to the infirmary before she wakes up. There was a brief moment wherein she warred with her impatience before finally saying. “Alright then, take me through the list.”

For the first time since Celestia had entered the courtroom, Sunny smiled. “Well, Princess, I was thinking that...”

Less than an hour later, Celestia stepped into hallway leading to the infirmary wearing a small smile. Appointing Sunny as her replacement had been the right call, the mare already having made a clear list of whos and whys for her own council. It wasn’t perfect, of course—few things ever were—but it only needed a few adjustments to work as well as Sunny thought it would. With a little luck and some training, the ponies in question could even be called upon to advise on matters of state beyond those flowing through open court on a daily basis. Her smile turned sour when she remembered that even the advice of a foal was more useful than that of her own council.

The smile disappeared completely when she found that the infirmary wasn’t in the state she had left it in. Every single one of the medical staff was running around as if time had been turned back and she had just come in with Twilight. Much to her consternation, it quickly became clear why.

“Why hasn’t he received the proper care yet? Do I really need to remind you oafs who you are dealing with?”

Even before laying eyes on the mare, Celestia knew exactly who that shrill voice belonged to. Dread and bile were already rising in her throat at the thought of having to deal with the Duchess, but for the staff—and more importantly, the patients—to get any more rest that day, she was going to have to. First, however, she had to find out what brought the shrew to the infirmary in the first place.

She quickly found out that yelling at the staff was both unnecessary and completely out of proportion. When she stepped into the portion of the infirmary where the Duchess was busy terrorizing the nurses, she found Blueblood, the young son of the Duchess, sitting on one of the stretchers with a small cut near one of his fetlocks; undoubtedly the result of another of his stunts that were becoming more idiotic by the day.

“What is going on here?” Celestia asked calmly, choosing a spot right behind the mare that would guarantee the desired result.

The next few seconds played out exactly like she expected them to.

“What’s going on here? My son is grievously injured!” Duchess Blueblood shrieked. “Who are you to A—” It was at that point in the sentence that she bumped into Celestia’s leg and fell silent whilst she gazed up at her sovereign ruler. “Princess! My deepest apologies,” she began anew, bowing and taking a few steps back, bumping into one of the nurses that was trying to apply a bandage to the younger Blueblood. There was no more screaming at anypony for being clumsy or late, and even though her eyes smouldered with a detached sort of rage, the Duchess forced a smile and thanked the medical staff for their help, after which she sent her son ahead before turning back to Celestia. “Princess, you have my deepest apologies for bumping into you. Though might I ask what brings you here?” Her tone was nothing less than saccharinely sweet, and it made Celestia’s skin crawl.

“Duchess,” Celestia replied evenly, trying her best not to sink to the mare’s level. “I heard screaming coming from the infirmary and I was worried that something terrible might have happened.”

Glancing over to Twilight’s bed to make sure she was doing alright was a mistake she knew she was going to regret making even before the Duchess followed her eyes. “Oh my, what happened to your personal student?” the mare asked, winding enough emphasis around the word ‘personal’ to turn it into a barbed implication of negligence.

True to form, Celestia thought bitterly, keeping her face impassive while the mare looked around in smug self-assurance. “You mean Twilight? She was a little overzealous in learning about Alicorn magic and overexerted herself.” The dark look passing over the Duchess’ face let Celestia know she had hit her first mark. “But with a little rest and a few good meals she will be fine. So don’t worry, your son will never have to undergo such rigorous training.”

That she had hit another nerve was evidenced by the Duchess’ less than amicable narrowing of the eyes, which in turn made Celestia have to suppress a sigh. Fighting with words, or ‘social fencing’ as the nobility called it, was an exhausting battle where one always had to watch what they were saying. Attacking, parrying, sidestepping and even redirecting, it was all part of an elaborate ritualised way to establish dominance, and as the de facto leader of the herd, Celestia had to win every single time or risk ridicule. Thankfully, their surroundings weren’t the most auspicious of places, which would soften any missteps she made here, though it didn’t mean that nothing would leak out to the populace eventually.

She was almost caught by surprise when she caught the smirk on Blueblood’s face before the mare twisted it into a semi-sympathetic smile and asked “A few good meals? Is the poor dear sick? Or perhaps it is exhaustion from her ordeals under your tutelage?”

A thrust and a lunge? It’s not like her to be so aggressive. “Not at all. Unlike some of the ponies I worked with in the past, she has more than enough power to keep up with me.” Celestia let her sentence hang at the halfway point, just long enough to make clear which young pony in particular she was referring to.

Duchess Blueblood didn’t seem to be deterred by the figurative wound she had suffered, and merely continued in a casual tone as if she was having a pleasant conversation. “Just make sure she eats enough. Stars know that Blooey’s nanny had the hardest time getting him to eat when he was still a foal.”

The implication didn’t sit well with Celestia. “Twilight is perfectly capable of taking care of herself.”

Blueblood all but pounced on the statement, like she had been waiting for Celestia to go into the defensive. “Very much a debatable issue, I say. Perhaps she isn’t as mature as Your Highness seems to think if she landed herself in a hospital bed whilst trying to please her sovereign ruler.” She continued with another attack without any chance of a reply. “Or perhaps she simply isn’t mature enough to handle the pressure that being a student of such a mighty icon brings with it.”

Celestia silently gnashed her teeth together in frustration. She had neither the time nor the patience for a protracted wordy fencing match. “Duchess...”

Perhaps she had underestimated the mare; she was apparently smarter than she let on during their normal jousts. Perhaps it was because she smelled a weak spot. “The poor dear looks so weak. I bet she would give most anything to be back home with her parents. Regrettably, Your Highness’ duties have precluded you from any worthwhile maternal experience, which no doubt plays a factor in the filly’s problems,” the Duchess said as she walked over to Twilight’s bed.

The grin on the Duchess’ face when Celestia cut her off and protectively shielded the bed from view with her body was nothing short of stomach-curling. She had found her weak spot.

Celestia had had enough. “Her parents entrusted her to my care, and she seems quite happy to—”

“Well perhaps they made an error then, didn’t they?” the Duchess said, smugness dripping from her words while she circled the bed. The worst thing about the situation was that it made it seem like like she was one pulling the strings; forcing Celestia to move if she wanted to keep the Duchess away from the bed Twilight was in. “After all, nopony but our fair Princess Celestia is perfect.”

Perhaps this...? “If you don’t trust my judgement, why would you wish for your son to become my student?”

Throwing her hair back with a laugh only made the mare seem more in control, and worse, made Celestia seem like a fool. “While your judgement surrounding the choice of your students might be flawed, there is no doubt that they are, bar none, the most powerful unicorns of their time and will go down in history.”

“Power is hardly a part of the way I select my students, Duchess. Intelligence and character are much more important, which is exactly why I never considered him in the first place.”

Either the Duchess was having too much of a good time, or she really wasn’t as smart as she currently looked. Whatever the case, she seemed to be unaware of just how dangerously she had pushed Celestia to the edge of her patience, taking a few more steps so she could see Twilight before shrugging. “Perhaps after this poor runt inevitably gives up or kills herself, you’ll reconsider.”

It was the last drop in the proverbial bucket; though only if the bucket exploded afterwards. Because that was what Celestia did. With a roar of frustration and anger Celestia reared onto her hindhooves and when she brought them down the entire castle shook. The adrenaline and the anger blocked the outlets from which Celestia constantly discharged her magic: Her hair. Within seconds, her entire mane and tail had been engulfed by flame, blazing with an intensity akin to the sun itself. Unlike the sun, however, Celestia did not actually vaporize everything in her vicinity, though it did make the Duchess shy back in awe and fear. She wasn’t the only one. All around the room, ponies who were awake enough to see or hear her were hiding behind whatever they could find, desperate to escape the gaze of the goddess they had recently learned was terrifying if she wanted to be.

“Alright, you insipid insect that passes for a mare!” she thundered. “You shall have your wish! You wanted your son to become my student?”

Blueblood blubbered around for a few seconds before finally managing a shaky nod.

“So be it! In a week’s time, I will test your son and my student. If he can measure up to this filly less than half his age, I will accept him as my student.”

Though her dress hid the fact, the room began to smell like the Duchess had lost control over her bladder. Nevertheless, she managed a thin, victorious smile. At least until Celestia spoke again. “Make no mistake, Duchess. If he does not measure up, not having a famous son will be the least of your worries!”

Anything else Celestia might have wanted to get off her chest was a lost cause. Duchess Blueblood finally found she had strength in her legs and let them carry her off to somewhere that wasn’t the infirmary. She took most of Celestia’s anger with her, and before long, the fiery mane and tail settled down and returned to the multi-hued hair ponies were accustomed to.

I should not have done that... Why did I do that? She let out a long-suffering sigh. The Duchess had been well overdue for a good reprimand, but for Celestia, losing her temper was inexcusable. The sun did not become angry with the clouds for obstructing her sight. No, it just vaporizes them. Not helpful.

“P-Princess?” To Celestia’s shame, Twilight sounded... scared.

Of all the times she could have woken up, why did it have to be now? Plastering a comforting smile on her face, she turned around to regard the filly.

Despite a little paleness around the cheeks, Twilight thankfully looked completely healthy. Her ears were turning in every which direction, and her horn sparked a little, giving the impression that she was testing if everything was still attached. The only thing off was her eyes. If it hadn’t been for the fear that was clearly readable in them, Celestia would have probably given her a hug.

“Good evening, Twilight,” the princess said, sitting down next to the bed and grabbing a glass of water from the nightstand that had been left there for when Twilight woke up.

“I’m sorry.”

Keeping her smile intact became harder and harder for Celestia while she considered the fear her anger might have caused in her student. Especially after learning that the filly already had problems with low self-esteem. “Why are you sorry, Twilight?”

“I...” Twilight looked around timidly. “I’m sorry for whatever I did wrong,” she said quickly, sitting up and scooting towards the edge of the bed. “But I’ll do better next time! I promise.”

Celestia shook her head softly before wrapping Twilight in a thin tendril of magic and levitating her back to the pillows. “Twilight, you have to stay in bed for now.”

That finally made the filly settle down. “Are you going to yell at me now?” came the timid question.

A sigh escaped Celestia before she could stop it, and she dropped the fake smile along with it. She regarded Twilight with a sad frown which made the filly squirm before saying. “I am not angry with you, but that mare...” She fell silent, trying to think of the best way to put it.

“She was being a bad mare, wasn’t she? I bet she wanted to ruin something important.”

“She was being a very bad mare, Twilight. A bad mare who was trying to ruin something very important.” Celestia put the glass in Twilight’s hooves so that the filly could drink and waited until half of the contents had disappeared past the filly’s lips before she continued. “But that doesn’t mean I had the right to get angry like I did, and I’m sorry you had to see it.”

It took Twilight a few moments to process that information, crossing her forelegs while frowning thoughtfully. The way the expression pursed her lips and drew her eyebrows together made Celestia smile again. It took a while before Twilight finally nodded. “It was a little scary, but I think I understand.”

“I’m glad to hear it, Twilight.”

She should have expected the next question out of Twilight’s mouth, but she didn’t. “Could you teach me how to do that fiery hair thing?”

The question was incredibly silly, but it made sense given Twilight penchant for wanting to alter her mane; and In this instance, Celestia supposed Twilight was allowed to be a little silly. She laughed softly, glad to be rid of the awful feelings that came with losing her cool, if only for a brief moment.

It was a rare unguarded moment, one her sneaky student capitalised on by trying to vacate her bed once more. She would have succeeded too, if it hadn’t been for the doctor that chose that moment to arrive. Celestia’s laughter redoubled when Twilight, forelegs crossed and scowling at her captor, was levitated back onto the bed by the scruff of her neck.

“Sorry, little one, but you need to stay in bed.”

“Why?”

The doctor smiled sympathetically. “Because you collapsed earlier today. You have to take better care of yourself and make sure that you eat enough.”

“Oh...” Twilight’s scowl made way for an apologetic look which she aimed at the doctor first, and Celestia second. “Sorry.”

The doctor shook his head. “It’s alright. Mistakes happen. Right now, though, you really need to eat something.”

“Doctor?” Celestia said gently, her mind refusing to let her failure pass without some reparations, even if Twilight didn’t blame her. “Could she go without a meal for five more minutes? I wanted to ask the cooks to make her something special.”

He looked between Celestia’s patient, if tired, gaze and Twilight’s grin which was rapidly outpacing her face’s ability to stretch wide enough. “I guess it couldn’t do any real harm.”

“Yay!" Twilight bounced up and down on the bed, using the entire surface to convey her happiness. Right up till the moment she almost bounced right off the bed, and was only saved due to quick intervention from the doctor.

He put her back onto the bed for a second time and cleared his throat. “As long as you promise to stay in bed and rest.”

“I do! I promise!” Twilight all but yelled at him before turning to Celestia. “If I stay here, can I have creepies again? And pancakes with maple syrup? Oh oh oh, and celery stalks with those little tomatoes in them?”

Every word that came out of Twilight’s mouth added another dish to the list until it started to resemble an entire trade agreement, written in triplicate. Not only that, but the longer she went on the more elaborate the ideas became until Celestia finally stopped her by putting a hoof to her mouth, which muffled the last three suggestions before Twilight got the message.

“That’s quite enough, Twilight. It would be quite ironic if you ate yourself to death while trying to recover from malnutrition.”

“Princess?” Twilight asked while she wiggled herself back under the blankets.

“Yes, Twilight?”

“What does ‘Ironic’ mean?”

Celestia smiled and booped Twilight’s nose with a hoof “We’ll get to that some other time. Right now, you need to lay down and rest, young lady.”

“How long do I have to stay in bed?”

The doctor checked her temperature with a hoof and made her say ‘ahhh’ before replying. “If all goes well, you can return to your studies tomorrow.”

His answer put an immediate dampener on Twilight’s spirits. “But what am I supposed to do in the meantime? I could die of boredom!”

“Rest,” The doctor told her, writing down a few things on a notepad which he put back into the foot end of the bed when he was done. “Your body needs time to recover, so eat when the princess comes back with your meal. And try to sleep when you’re bored.”

Celestia winked at her student. “Hang in there, Twilight. I will be back soon.”

“Princess! What brings you to the tropical atmosphere of the Canterlothian Kitchens?” Honey Mead called out to her when she walked down the small five-step flight of wooden stairs leading to the subterranean basement the kitchens were situated in. “I would hope it’s because you could smell the aroma of my newest recipe: ‘Bamboo a la Honey’ but since the aroma of the kitchens doesn’t reach that far, I’m going to take a guess and say you’re here for some other delicacy.”

Celestia smiled at him, though she did not respond right away. It was always a guess on her part, wondering if he actually expected a response to his greeting. And though she did mentally add his newest dish to the list Twilight wanted to try, she decided to go with the standard this time and said, “Good evening, Mead.” The stallion poured golden syrup over the top of a colorful tower, and anything with honey in it was sure to be a delicacy in the filly’s eyes.

“The best of evenings, Princess,” he replied, carefully balancing a few delicate looking twigs on top of an assortment of fruits which in turn had been carefully placed into a mostly hollowed-out watermelon. “And Voila!” With a flourish that only barely missed his latest creation, he turned around and presented it with a hoof. “I would say it was made for you, Princess, but that would be lie.” He looked at the tower of fruit over his shoulder and lovingly adjusted a few of the leftover pieces that were scattered around on the plate. “This marvelous creation was made for anypony that enjoys the taste of good food.” With his final inspection completed, he turned back to Celestia and adjusted his belly. “So, Princess, what can I do for you? Light afternoon snack? Early dinner? Perhaps something extra for that little filly?”

“Her name is Twilight Sparkle,” Celestia told him, looking around the kitchens to see if there were any other meals that had already been prepared. Overburdening the cooks with Twilight’s entire runaway menu was not really what she had in mind, yet at the same time, she wanted to make sure it was special.

“As long as she learns to handle her levitation, she is more than welcome to the family.” He briefly turned away from her to holler at what could have been a younger version of himself whom was stirring half a dozen pots at the same time. “Hey, Barley! That stew is ready to be served to the boys in armor.” He turned back to Celestia with a smile. “Sorry about that. Gotta keep things running here. Where is that walking cutlery disaster anyhow?”

“That’s why I’m here actually. Twilight fainted due to malnutrition and was brought to the infirmary.”

“Malnutrition?” Mead chuckled and shook his head. “Nonsense! I made her crepes myself! Put in some extra filling to boot. The only way she didn’t get enough is... if...” He fell silent before sighing and looking up at Celestia. “She was in the middle of that food fight, wasn’t she?”

Celestia nodded. “Although she didn’t so much participate voluntarily as by accident.”

“More trouble, huh? Wouldn’t put it past her. You mind talking while I resume my work? Lots of dishes to be prepared and it’s almost dinner time.” He didn’t wait for a reply, grabbing a whole slew of dirty dishes and depositing them into some soapy water before grabbing two pans. In moments he had a fire going on the stove and poured oil, added butter and was cutting chunks out of a hunk of broccoli the size of his head. “Okay, now... how can I help?”

“Twilight was really looking forward to trying some crepes, but she also wished to try a few other things. Do you think you could make that happen without ruining dinner for everypony else?”

The earth pony pounded his chest with one hoof while the other dexterously flipped a turnover into the air and caught it with the same grace. “Princess, if there’s anything I know how to do, it’s food. Little Twilight ‘Disaster’ Sparkle is gonna get all the food she can eat.”

Celestia had half a mind to berate him for giving her a nickname like that. Though she trusted Mead himself not to go spreading something like that around—he was much too good-natured and honest to make a pony look bad in that manner—If others caught it, it could prove disastrous for Twilight’s self-esteem. “Do you have foals, Mead?” she found herself asking instead while debating coming around the kitchens more often. The aromas were nothing short of mouthwatering and Mead had most certainly turned the creation of food into an art form.

“Two strong boys and one devil of a girl, Princess.” Mead halted his attack on the melon currently occupying his chopping board and looked up to the ceiling in thought. “She’s about as much trouble as Twilight, now that I think about it.” He shrugged and continued with his work. “Must be something about fillies that age.”

Celestia glanced around, trying to gauge how many ponies would overhear what they were talking about. “And what do you do when you need to keep her entertained for a few hours?” she continued despite herself. Asking questions like these made her feel like she was exposing one of the few chinks in the armor that was her image, but she had long realised she was going to need some help, or at the very least information.

“Put ‘er in the kitchen and tell ‘er to go nuts.” Mead ran a hoof through his scraggly mane while looking around before ducking underneath one of the many cooking islands. “Kid’ll make a fine cook some day, just like the boys.”

Celestia chuckled at the idea of foals amusing themselves in the kitchen and walked with Mead when he moved to another part of the kitchens. In many ways he was an overseer, only stepping in when something threatened to go wrong, and working on his own projects only when nopony else needed help. “What if that wasn’t an option?

Mead looked at her knowingly before laughing and shaking his head. “Filly’s bored, eh?” He took out another watermelon and cleaved it in half with one chop. “Could always send her down to the kitchens. I’ll keep her occupied.”

“That would be rather difficult. She’s been told to stay in bed and rest.”

“Well...” Mead scratched his head again. “What’s she like besides magicking things up? Running around the castle? Guess that’d be out too... perhaps you could read her a bedtime story? Or just talk. Fillies that age love talking, I tell you. Mine can go on for hours if I don’t stop ‘er.”

So can you, Celestia thought with a smile of her own. “Thank you, Mead. I think I may have an idea.” She gestured towards the tower of fruit that was his latest creation. “Could you bring one of those, together with crepes and some other sweets to her?”

Mead bowed deeply, almost comically so, and said, “Consider it done, Princess.”

Leaving the cook to his preparations, Celestia left the kitchens and set a course for Twilight’s bedroom, taking a brief detour to set the sun from her balcony. Twilight loved reading; that much she knew for sure, and though that didn’t necessarily have to mean she would enjoy being read to, Celestia was willing to bet on the fact that she did. Even if it turned out not to be the case, her Daring Do book would at least keep her occupied for the rest of the evening.

The chaos the room was in when she stepped through the door was a little odd. Not that it had ever been the most tidy of places, but most of the bookcases were empty, their contents scattered all over the floor. Fortunately, the Daring Do book was right where Twilight had left it. She snatched it up and turned around. A maid could always clean up the mess later; right now she wanted to get back to Twilight.

She was ambushed the moment she stepped out of the room.

Although ‘ambush’ might have been a big word for it. The moment she emerged from Twilight’s room, she came face to face with six distinguished stallions and two dignified mares. Or at least they liked to think of themselves as such. Their leader, an aging stallion by the name of Blustering Wind, stepped forward and thoroughly cleared his throat. Celestia recognised it as a prelude to a lengthy tirade by the unicorn, but was too late to stop him.

“Your Majesty,” The stallion began in his deep droning voice. “My esteemed colleagues and I recently learned that Your Highness has appointed a young unicorn to the position of Court Overseer.” The way he uttered the words ‘young’ and ‘unicorn’ made it clear that he would much rather have been screaming obscenities that such a thing had been allowed to happen. “It was our understanding that, if somepony should need to... ah... ‘replace’ you in that capacity, it would be—” he gestured towards the eight of them “—one of us, as we are most qualified to fill such a role. Not to mention that only we really have the experience with...”

Celestia regarded him patiently, waiting for him to finish his first barrage of statements. She knew that trying to get a word in edgewise would simply upset him and make him more uncooperative. From the corner of her eyes she could see Rook’s eyes glaze over, making her aware of just how boring the stallion could be if one actually listened to him.

“—Therefor we demand an explanation as to why a... a commoner was chosen and we were not consulted on the matter.” Blustering Wind finished up his monologue and stepped back after which all eight ponies looked at Celestia in anticipation of the explanation they felt they deserved.

Celestia felt they deserved expulsion from the castle, but she decided to provide an explanation as well, as much for their education as for her own satisfaction.. “Well,” she began lightly. “I did not consult you on this matter because I did not feel the need to. Your overall level of involvement in the ruling of this country was lackluster at best, and more than once have my decrees gone unanswered because the lot of you will not deign to do your jobs properly.”

“Your Majesty!” Bluster stepped forward but Celestia held up a hoof.

“I wasn’t finished,” she said calmly, waiting until the stallion backed down. “Furthermore, this ‘young unicorn’ you speak of has been my personal assistant for almost two decades. While she demonstrably has not been at the castle as long as yourselves, she has made herself invaluable to both myself and many of the castle’s staff—”

“But Your Majesty! Each and every one of us comes from a long line of noble ponies, and we have all distinguished ourselves in the areas we represent on your council!” Bluster stomped a hoof on the floor, inadvertently waking up Rook who fell into a defensive posture and almost jumped the unicorn before he realised that there was no attack.

“Ah yes, the council. Good of you to bring that up, Bluster,” Celestia replied without missing a beat. “From this point onward I am disbanding the council and dismissing all of you. You will receive the pension benefits befitting a servant of the crown in recognition of your families’ past services to your country, but you will no longer be allowed inside the castle’s private areas.”

Of the eight ponies, one mare fainted, one stallion pushed his way to the front screaming the same obscenities Bluster had probably been thinking about, and the rest were in a state of shock. “But you... you can’t do this!” one of them called out. “We have—”

“You have made a mockery out of court by treating it as a buffet, debated endlessly over the most inane of trifles, and have failed to do your duty as councilors in actually providing council regarding the state of this country. All of that has been managed by either myself or other ponies I have come to trust. They will become my new council when the opportunity for promotion presents itself, and that all starts here.”

Two of the councilors got into an argument amongst themselves and began a fight right there in the hallway. They were broken up by Rook and Aegis, but not before having come to blows. The mare that hadn’t fainted started crying and asked.“W-what are we supposed to do?”

Celestia regarded her with pity. “I would recommend you pack. You have two days to gather your belongings and depart the castle. Should you require transport, I will make chariots available which will take you wherever you need to go. Arrangements can also be made to provide you with temporary lodgings at the crown’s expense, should you be unable to find such for yourselves. I will even consider giving you some assistance in finding another job; however, your time here is at an end.”

Blustering Wind had been deadly silent after the tumult behind him had started, but by the way he shook, it quickly became clear he wasn’t going to go quietly. “This is an outrage! I demand that we put this to a vote and see who the people will want to follow!”

For him, Celestia didn’t even have pity to spare. She sighed and shook her head before ordering Rook and Aegis to take the whole bunch away. They quickly received help from a patrol and before long the entire mob had been led away. Sighing again, Celestia resumed her trek back to the infirmary. Having to fire ponies who worked hard was never pleasant, but finally getting rid of the eight of them was a relief. She would have to take a good long look at the way she selected her councilors, and perhaps experiment with an independent contractor to make sure they wouldn’t fall prey to the same complacency these had.

When she returned to the infirmary, she found it a much livelier place than the one she had left behind. Where before there had been only been a few medical staff member tending to the sick, now the room was filled with ponies walking around. It wasn’t until she saw one of the frumpled white toques that she got an inkling of what was going on. Carts were being pushed around and left behind in favor of domed trays which were deposited right on ponies’ beds. In the middle of it all sat Twilight Sparkle, trying very hard (and failing) to sit still while observing the goings on of her surroundings with a massive grin.

“Princess!” The filly yelled when she spotted Celestia, looking for a moment like she would leap off of the bed and right onto Celestia’s back in sheer excitement. “Do you see how many ponies there are?!”

Navigating the chaos took a little doing. On three separate occasions, Celestia had to either dodge out of the way or sidestep ponies before she could make it to the bed. “Can you tell me what’s going on?” she asked, bemused.

Twilight giggled and pointed at one of the food carts. “Mister Mead came to bring me creepies and something he called ‘Bamboo Honey’ but then he saw somepony else eat something... bad?” The filly shrugged. “He said that it wasn’t food before running off, and when he came back, he had all these other ponies with him and they all had carts with lots more yummies!”

Nodding throughout Twilight’s explanation, Celestia sat down and let her eyes wander over all the food that had been piled up next to the bed. The crepes were there, as was Mead’s bamboo dish, yet none of it had been touched.

“Twilight, why aren’t you eating?”

Twilight followed her gaze and her smile fell, slightly. “Oh... well... the doctor said I shouldn’t use magic until tomorrow, and I didn’t want to make a mess like before so...”

“So you decided not to eat?” A tiny spark of anger ignited and Celestia had to surpress it before she continued. “Twilight, you have to take better care of yourself.”

Celestia didn’t know if she hadn’t quite managed to ward the anger from her voice, or if Twilight simply intuited her words as such, but the filly shrugged helplessly. Her smile faded entirely and she sat down in front of Celestia. “I always end up making a mess. I didn’t want to be a both—” The rest of her sentence was cut short by a piece of fruit Celestia levitated right into her mouth. Twilight’s first reaction was a confused look, but after she chewed and found the taste to her liking, it was gone in an instant.

“If you’re not going to eat by yourself, I suppose I will just have to feed you, won’t I?” Celestia said with a soft smile, already levitating another chunk of fruit from the veritable mountain available.

Twilight giggled and opened her mouth wide. “Ahhh.” It was impossible for Celestia not to think of her as a newborn chick begging its mother for more, prompting her to giggle as well before she fed Twilight another piece, before switching over to the crepes.

They sat there amongst the patients for a long time, while Twilight devoured anything and everything Celestia put in front of her. They made it through the crepes, a set of apple fritters, Mead’s bamboo creation and almost half of a carrot cake, the other half of which Celestia ate herself. By the time the cooks took the rest of the food with them back to the kitchens, Twilight stretched languidly and didn’t object when Celestia floated her back to the pillows.

“Princess?”

“Yes, Twilight?”

“Could you ask somepony to get my book?” Twilight wiggled underneath the blankets but her movements were similarly starting to become languid and sluggish. “I wanted to—” she interrupted herself with a yawn “—to read a chapter before I go to bed.”

Celestia had almost forgotten about the book, focused as she had been on feeding Twilight. It had given her a feeling of satisfaction that was at the same time curious and wonderful, and she wondered if this feeling was what mothers felt when taking care of their children. When Twilight mentioned the book, she recalled what Mead had said and showed her student the book. “I thought you might want to do that.”

Rather than reach out, Twilight hid herself under the covers until only her horn betrayed her presence. The pile of blankets took a few deep breaths before asking, “Princess, can you read me a story?”

Having been about to suggest the same thing, Celestia was puzzled by her student’s actions. She nevertheless opened the book and began reading. Finding the spot Twilight had left off wasn’t difficult as the bookmark had been placed meticulously, and once she began reading, she quickly became immersed in the story.

“The jungles were filled with danger, but an experienced explorer like Daring Do knew just where to place her hooves to avoid all the poisonous plants. When she found a few broken twigs and a trap for an Ursa Minor, she knew the two poachers, Rough and Tumble had to be close. Slowly she crept through the underbrush, ready to surprise the two goons that had set up camp next to the river...”

“—but Daring was too fast. She ducked and kicked Tumble in the head while his blade flew away harmlessly. Rough had gotten away, but tracking him down was a mission for another time. Today, all she had to do was disarm the traps before heading home.” Celestia turned the page and noticed that she had already read two chapters. She levitated the book a few inches to the side and looked at Twilight. The filly was sleeping peacefully though the blankets were still covering half her face.

Celestia smiled and rearranged the blankets a little before looking around the rest of the infirmary. Most ponies had long since gone to sleep, and the night-shift had just arrived. Looking back at Twilight she was once again overcome by the feeling of kinship, or perhaps it was something else. She wasn’t sure. Before her mind made her second-guess herself, she leaned over and gave her student a kiss on the forehead. Motherly. She felt motherly, and it was a wonderful feeling.

“Goodnight, Twilight,” she said softly before sitting back down, briefly debating to spend the night here or in her own chambers. The decision was made for her when she turned to the nightstand to put away the book, and her eye fell on the first sentence. She pulled the book back in front of her and lost herself to the fictional world once more, silently mouthing the words as if she was still reading to her student.