There is something wicked in the woods · 5:40am March 23rd
He-hey, I simply want to pop up to say that I am still alive and kicking. Life is not a fun stroll these past months and writing about soul-searching stuff is getting increasingly harder, so I'd be glad to make something more lighthearted when it is done.
But until then -- I am not finished. I need to work through it. I want to stick to what I have outlined.
Anyway, the ending of QotD-I is looming on the horizon, and I'd like to assure those who may be concerned that we are almost on a homestretch. Until then, please enjoy this little snippet of what's to come, and thank you for your attention.
"Someone wise once told me that acquiring something compels people to cease to want to look at it," shared Celestia a piece of her mind.
She lounged on the terrace. On the other side of the small coffee table sat her opponent, who was covered by fumes from a giant, opulent hookah.
Celestia lazily went on with her speech. "They are attracted by the glitter and brightness, and so they lock those things into their hoard, become complacent with them, and spare a glance only to wipe out the dust. What once was so pursued and cherished becomes another part of their mundane world." Celestia paused, considering where she is going with this.
"Mun-da-ni-ty," she rolled the syllables on her tongue. The power of words was terrifying, and sufficiently impressed by the weightiness' of it, Celestia heaved a breath. "And, of course, I must ask: can it be that Harmony is mundane now? Am I mundane, too? Sometimes I am thinking that Harmony will always remain only at a hoof's reach, if you pardon my equinism."
"Like toys," interjected her opponent.
Celestia lifted her brow in polite confusion.
"Those things you spoke about," the woman uttered with a cough. Her health was failing. "They are like toys that people will inevitably grow bored with. Do go on, please. I didn't mean to interrupt."
"We both know what they will say later about the era of my rule: 'harmony was maintained in Equestria for generations'. For almost a thousand years... Can you imagine? How many generations is that?..." Celestia made another pause to do a quick math. "Oh, I don't even want to think about it," she added capriciously.
"When I am looking at the past, I am worried about the future, in a way. More precisely, about what ponies will believe in. I've made sure they will remember my origins as that of one who found her way into princessdom by her own ingenuity and resourcefulness, but would that be enough? I want them to always maintain the idea that it is possible for anyone to become an alicorn Princess..." Celestia laughed and sagged deeper into the pillows. Her eyes treacherously gleamed, but she blinked it away. "Ah... What is Celestia, if not a mere idea?..."
"Are you speaking about a loss of identity for their sake?" the woman prompted, letting out more aromatic fumes in the process.
Celestia giggled. "That sounds too sad! No, it's different." She hemmed, getting self-judgmental. "I hope.
"I never belonged to their world in the first place," she drawled, taking the scepter that was by her side. "Exempli gratia, take a gander at this old thing. I must keep it locked away at all times. When they see me with it, what will be on their minds? Those few who remember the legends would be terrified, and their dread would spread like wildfire, and rightfully so."
"Do you hate it?" The woman glanced at the scepter, curious about its magic.
"Hm-m-m..." Celestia's ear flickered as she contemplated the question. "Now that's a strange thought... How can I hate it? It is merely another symbol of my rule."
The woman's weathered hand, covered with bulging veins, placed a small piece on a bamboo board. It was an ancient game—to Celestia's estimation, older than both of their lifespans combined.
Her opponent played black, of course. Celestia played white. She wasn't in the mood to go against the type.
"I think I figured out what's going on with you." The woman scratched a patch of unwanted facial hair that she had given up on getting rid of. "You are caught by your mindtrap again. You are speaking about everything like it should have more agency."
"Well, tell me then, do good, hopeful fairy tales matter?" Tears quickly swelled in Celestia's eyes. She lifted the scepter and pointed at her companion almost accusatorily. "Do legends such as this have any right to exist? Is there a way for me to become real? Is it even worth it at this point?"
The woman's laughter was hoarse and strained. "Not to belittle your plight and all, but I wish I had the same problems as you... Look, don't let your trepidations triumph over reason. It all will end rather soon, and when it does, everyone will be by your side. Me included."
"Everything will end." Celestia bobbed her head, and her flowing mane streamed over her muzzle. She glanced at the sky dreamily. "Everything is supposed to end, for it is the law. Law. Law." She rocked the sound in her throat and giggled. "What a funny little word of this funny little world."
"You will remain, in a way," the woman reminded.
"As a symbol, you mean."
"Yes. A symbol that will be gazing from an eternity."
"Oh, yes. It is better this way." Celestia weakly smiled. "I am a symbol even now, after all, an archetype you'd call it, right? Who else but me? And so to the end of existence I will wag an allegorical feather-finger at all of them." Her smile grew. "'Be good or I'll come back again and smite ye.' Hardly a stretch of imagination, since it's not that different from my current role."
The woman returned a courteous smile and made another draw from the hose.
"But still, I can't stop thinking..." Celestia was unable to stop musing aloud. "Is it truly so wrong to want more?"
"You are too bitter, old friend." The woman outstretched her hand. Celestia met it halfway, and the woman gave her forehoof a little squeeze. "'Is it wrong to want to reach for the stars? Is it wrong to want the impossible to happen?' Those are the questions you want to be asking."
"Yes..." Celestia glanced back with gratitude. "That's right. I, Princess Celestia... want the impossible."
The Dutch Lady!
5773547
Hahah! I'm thinking about reapproaching this snippet with something more subtle and already introduced in the story, though. Remembered this for inspiration
Love for you! Still very rough for me, too. At least you’re writing!
5773623
Hey, don't let those emotions fester, speak about it, write about it, let it out.
Things will become better, I promise.