Alicorns
If you were to look at her, you wouldn’t see any effort at all. Twilight Sparkle stands on her balcony, horn alight and eyes closed. She spends more than a long moment like this, lips stiff, head bowed, every aspect of her emanating calmness. She opens her eyes. Her aura leaves her as she looks out over her handiwork. She nods to the night sky and smiles, turning back to her chambers. “Another successful moonset,” she compliments herself.
As she enters the room, she stretches. It’s been a long day, and all six of her limbs have that subtle ache to them. She delicately curls up on a rather lavish pillow and takes a deep breath, allowing her decidedly perfect form to relax. Her hind and forelegs move to rest on the front edge, her head at the side, and wings toward the top; her standard evening resting position.
Tonight, though, is different. It’s not unlike the past few, which hadn't gone exactly as she’d scheduled, not that she disliked that. Tonight, there is a knock at her door.
Twilight raises her head at the unexpected noise. By the sound of it, though, she knows exactly who’s knocking. “What are you doing up?” Twilight says in a jovial tone, a smile brought to her face. Right on cue, the massive doors burst open, and a giddy little filly bounds in, darting straight for Twilight and bringing the two into an embrace. Twilight laughs heartily, wrapping a wing around the girl.
“I wanted to hear your stories, momma!” The tiny pony hugs her mother tighter and looks into her eyes with an adorableness only youngsters can properly achieve.
Twilight smiles and lends a nuzzle to her daughter, reminding her “but I’ve told so many, Dawn! How could I possibly come up with another?!”
The filly is unfazed. She knows exactly which story she wants to hear and won’t take ‘no’ for an answer. That said, she’s more than willing to use it as a response: “No no no no! Remember?! You told me that you’d tell me real stories!” She lets a softly stomping hoof prove her point even more.
Twilight smirks “Did I? I don’t seem to remember that~...” she says, with more than a little facetiousness. After more laughing and a bit of playful nudging, the two settle down and Twilight admits “Alright, you got me... I suppose I have to tell you some real stories eventually....” She smiles down at the now-elated filly, and the girl dashes over and grabs a smaller pillow, dragging it over to sit in front of her mom and watch as the story unfolds. She flops down on top of it and buries herself in its fluff, until everything below her eyes is hidden.
“Ready,” Dawn confirms.
With a wide smile and internal giggle, Twilight ponders. “Hmmm... Have I ever told you how Aunt Celestia grew up?” An energetic head-shaking shows Twilight that her daughter wants to know this new story. “Well... it’s a long one, so I can’t tell it all, tonight. Is that okay~?” An equally vigorous head-nodding prompts the story to start already.
Twilight nods and takes a deep breath, closing her eyes to think back. This was a story the lavender mare has heard many times, and not all from the same Princess. Her sisters would let it out in pieces on nights just like this one, where a full moon shone over their magical land. She put those pieces together in her head, no challenge for a pony such as herself. When she opens them, her violet eyes meet a very wide pair of orange ones. She smiles. Tonight is a good night to remember.
“Once upon a time, long before Equestria was founded, there were two alicorns. These two were the only alicorns known to exist, and they liked it that way. Constell, the stallion, was as black as the blackest night. His fur grew wildly, making his body look as if it were eternally flowing in a shadow. Solina, the mare, was exactly the opposite; her fur was the original definition of white, so perfectly tamed that ponies would invent brushes in a futile attempt to make their coats even slightly resemble hers.
“Together, they lived a very happily married life. Sequestered in a forest far from other ponies, these two rightfully thought themselves higher than the others, for their job was the most important on Earth; they were charged with raising and setting the Sun and Moon.”
“Just like you, mommy!” Dawn smiles and lifts her head. With a blink and a chuckle, Twilight is taken from her story for a moment to nod to her daughter.
“Yes, my dear, just like me.” In a moment, she recomposes herself.
“Now, these two alicorns loved each other very much. In fact, their love was so strong that they couldn’t bear keeping it to themselves; they wanted to share it. However, they disliked Earth, Unicorn, and Pegasus ponies so much that they never had a chance to share it!
“One particularly still and peaceful night, these alicorns decided that the only way to share their love was with another alicorn, and the only way to do that was to have a baby.”
Dawn sighs lightly to herself; she’s helpless to the joy brought to her by the idea of a cute, newborn foal.
“It was on that same night that they sent out for the Alicorn Stork, a seldom-used ritual that took many hours. They slept happily, that night, knowing that in eleven months, the stork would return with their brand new baby.”
With a wide smile, Twilight nuzzles her daughter once more. “And that’s where tonight’s story ends!”
“Aaaaaw!” A somewhat disappointed little golden filly heaves a sigh. “But it was just getting to the good part!”
Twilight rolls her eyes and reaches out a hoof to hold her filly. “And that’s why I know you’ll come back to hear the rest,” she teases.
“Alright...” The little girl sighs and reluctantly accepts this, getting up to her hooves. Her mother does the same and moves to guide Dawn back out the door.
“Now I want you to stay in bed, this time, alright?” Twilight lectures in her still-not-so-refined motherly voice whilst walking down the hall to the girl’s bedroom. Dawn nods, letting a yawn betray her retaliation. They enter the filly’s bedroom, which is certainly one fit for a young princess. It’s covered in soft, pink and white furniture, all made of wood that’s naturally grown in that color. What’s not wooden is silk, and what’s not silk is marble. Twilight had spared no expense to treat her child like royalty, even if her intellect told her otherwise. With a soft song and an equally soft glow to her horn, the Princess guides her daughter into bed and tucks her in, sealing the night with a kiss to the filly’s forehead. “Sleep well, my Dawn,” she whispers.
“Night night... momma...,” replies the child.
Twilight smiles as she closes the door, leaving the girl in darkness, save for the soft moonlight streaming in through her window: the best night light a child could ask for. When the door closes, Twilight lets out a silent sigh and walks back to her own room, making sure her door is locked before flopping onto her bed in the most distinguished manner possible.
It takes her a moment, but she smiles, giggling softly to herself as she remembers how lucky she is to have a baby of her own already grow into such a curious and adorable little alicorn. She can’t help but ponder what Celestia and Luna would have said about this.
She lets out a different sigh. “I bet you’d be proud, sister...” She looks to the windows, stained in memoriam of the two Princesses who shaped Equestria more than anypony else.
An hour ticks by, and she finds herself remembering again. This time, though, her mind has no restrictions placed on it; no censoring for children. She remembers the stories her sisters told her when they were alone, and she can almost see it. Twilight closes her eyes, and feels as if she were there, herself.
It was an exceptionally dark evening, with no small thanks to Constell. He was lying atop a small mountain, staring out at the land where he knew ponies lived. He scoffed. “What knoweth they of a life sans bitterness? Hath they any love even for their own hearts? Neigh. Neigh, these bickering and soulless beings hath wrought naught but famine and sadness upon their land, and do seeme content to let it reign for ever.”
His wife interrupted his reflection on others, her wings guiding her slowly down next to him. She touched the ground with silence, walking up to kneel next to him. Her coat glowed in the moonlight, slightly illuminating the area around them. “Doth thou keepest thyself awake in these late hours simply by disparaging those lesser than ourselves?”
Her voice hardly stirred him, only moving his head to see and kiss his wife in greeting. “Some nights, aye. The temptation would drown me, were I to keep my thoughts to myself.” He looked back into the distance.
“I understand, my husband. At times, myn own disparaging thoughts of these ponies do give me pause. But neigh! Keep not to thyself, my husband. Thou hast me, and to me shalt thou let thine thoughts be known, so that they might not consume thee.” She embraced her husband, and he embraced her in kind. Together, they stayed like this for a long moment, and then his thoughts broke the silence once more.
“My wife... our love doth shine brighter than the largest Moon.”
She nodded and looked into his eyes, responding “This I know to be true, my husband.”
“And even so, the Moon is lonely. I fear our love cannot be held within us alone,” Constell lamented. His head dipped ever so slightly.
“But husband of myn, how would we share our love if all these other ponies know naught but bitterness?”
Raising his head once more, the black stallion made his proposal. “We have but one choice, my wife: I must beget.”
To say Solina was not expecting this would be a lie, but she was taken aback by his forwardness, nonetheless. “Would we be prepared? To give this world ourselves, alone, is much. Would such a duty become us?”
Constell took several deep breaths, making his final thoughts before looking back into Solina’s eyes. he reiterated his previous conclusion. “We hath but one choice.”
Solina took her own deep breaths and nodded, soon coming to smile at the prospect of bearing a child, and of raising this child to be like them, and to be loved. Her mind raced with ideas of their future as a solitary family. She raised, and her husband then did the same.
They were with each other, that night. The mountain rocked, and wind was borne upon it, conceived from the mouths of the alicorns as they brought another into their world. For many nights thereafter, these two would revisit the mountaintop, repeating the ritual to ensure Solina would be heavy with child.
Twilight blinks and notices what she’d just remembered; it was a memory passed from Celestia’s parents, to Celestia, and then to herself. She shakes her head at the prospect of Celestia knowing how she was conceived in such detail. Twilight allows herself a spoken thought: “I’m glad I didn’t get that sort of memory from my parents...” Before anything of the sort can breach her mind, she shakes her head and skips forward in the memory.
Many months went by, and the alicorns’ love for each other grew along with the female’s berth. Each night, the couple would eat and be with one another, sharing a secluded life, far from any disturbances. Both delighted in their loneliness, and wished only for more.
On one particular evening, Contell had again prepared his wife a meal he thought worthy of themselves. Upon his table he presented to her breads, fruits, and vegetables decorating a meal of a long-cooked stew, served with an accompanying wine which he personally aged for centuries. It was as any other sunset for them.
As usual, he did his wife the honor of cleaning after their meal had come to a completion, singing all the while. His baritone voice resonated throughout the house, and Solina walked over to lie before the hearth. She closed her eyes and rested, bathing her ears in the chants of her stallion.
A knock broke their tranquility.
Before the echo of the knock died within the house, so, too, did the chanting. Constell gently placed his work down and walked toward the door. As he closed the distance, he wondered who would dare interrupt the love of two ponies of such power. The door disappeared in blackness along with his horn, and he pulled it open. In front of him hovered a pegasus, her coat brown and eyes gold. The pony wore leather, hardened and strapped around her belly and neck. She was obviously a warrior.
The pegasus peered into the jet-black doorway, seeing little more than nothingness. In fear and instinct she flipped backwards, now hovering over a foot farther from the door before regaining her composure and shouting “I am Hassia, daughter of Haddima and head of the sacred household! In battle, I did slay more wretched beasts than any other who hath lived with me! More bloo-”
She would continue if her voice were not ripped from her mouth by what she thought was thunder. Constell was furious. “HOW DARE THOU SPEAKETH?!” With this demanding question, the blackness in the door began consuming the framing rock, and creeped out on the ground beneath the warrior. Shaking, she flew up and back, away from the encroaching darkness. After it had taken up the entire front of the alicorns’ home, it snapped back in front of the door, and assumed the shape of a very large pony, horn tilted down and wings flared as far out as they could reach. Hassia stayed where she was, afraid of approaching this black shape, which bore a horn long enough to skewer her, and wings large enough to slap away an entire team of her best fighters.
Constell did not move. He was awaiting an answer, and Hassia knew it. After she was able to find her voice once more, she called down at him. “I... have a request to make of ye...”
Constell’s head slowly turned upward. She saw his eyes. Somehow, they were blacker than the shadow that made up his body. The eyes of this alicorn stallion sucked light from around them, like black mist emanating from his head. Instinct shouted at her, pulling her back and away from this being. “YOU DARE ASK ANY REQUEST AFTER INTERRUPTING AN ALICORN’S EVE?!”
Hassia was shaking, so much so that she couldn’t hover any longer, and she slowly drifted down. Constell kept his dark gaze. She eventually found her courage once more. As she touched the ground, she knelt, bowing her head “W-we are in a war... and require the aid of thine holy powers to end it.”
Constell stared at her, trying to work out what could possess a mere pegasus warrior to request the aid of an alicorn. He stepped but a single hoof farther forward, his sight unrelenting. In a soft, yet still deep and powerful voice, he spoke. “Do not calleth us ‘holy’. For all our great powers, we are no gods of yours. What reason hath one with such powers to provide aid to those whose powers are so much less? Surely you think yourselves too weak to fight! But neigh, thou fightest all the same. Thine clans and factions do fight amongst each other each day and each night, and all that comes of it is death and hatred. We, with our powers so great, could exterminate such rats!”
Hassia quivered at his words, bowing even lower for fear.
“No aid will come to such petty ponies. Let thine wars wage on, and no aid will come to ye from an alicorn. No pony who holdeth such terrible things so close to her heart will ever receive the respect of an alicorn, yourself least of all. A warrior who dares asketh for peace. Thou art not worth our presence.”
Constell stomped his forehoof, and the ground shook. It was a sound as loud as a thunderclap, and after it ended, there was dead silence. Hassia dared not look up for fear, but she neither heard nor saw any order to stand. She stayed there, kneeling, for several minutes before courage came to her once more. She looked up, and he was gone. The hillside was barren; he had taken his wife and home with him. She jumped and flew toward her own home, fear and instinct pushing her there as fast as her wings could carry her. Hassia would never again bother an alicorn.
Constell dropped his aura and turned to his wife. She’d been waiting by the hearth. She looked up at him and asked “Hath thou ensured our peace?”
The stallion nodded and moved to wrap his neck around hers, embracing his love. “Indeed. ‘Twas a warrior pegasus, whose presence we shan’t endure any longer.”
Intrigued by the report, she looked up at him after returning the embrace. “A warrior? What place hath a warrior to disturb us?”
Constell laid at her side, stretching his limbs and taking in a breath before telling his wife about the warrior’s requests and reverence. She listened, nodding. This wasn’t the first time they’d had a visitor thinking that they’d help simply because of their might. In fact, they’ve become very practiced at teleporting their abode. Upon finishing their conversation, they rose and headed out behind the home. They were to complete the sunset, a task that had befallen them as progenal rite.
They stood atop a hill, one that allowed them a clear view of both horizons. To the moon and sun their horns did point, and then light sprung from Solina’s, and darkness from Constell’s. Many moments passed, and it appeared as if these ponies were frozen in time, their bodies still aside from the aetherial manes and tails which flowed from their heads, necks, and docks. They ensured the sun a creeping, patient set, and that the moon had a rise just the same. After what felt like an eternity, but lasted mere minutes, their horns returned to normal. With a breath and a turn, they nodded to one another and joined in an embrace. Another perfectly-performed twilight. They returned inside, the fraught mare and her caring stallion.
— — ※ — —
[Celestia as a Newborn]
With a yawn and a stretch, Twilight Sparkle is brought from her remembrance and back into modern times. She takes a moment to look around at the windows, seeing the stories which they, too, remembered and gives them an understanding nod. She stands and stretches again, this time giving her wings more freedom. She closes a book in her mind, being sure to keep track of where she left off before shedding her regalia. She places her shoes, torq, and crown in their designated display cases, then heads toward the bed, idly pondering about the next day’s schedule.
Beneath the silken sheets she slips, letting out a sigh and giggling softly to herself; even after a good five millennia, she still loves the feeling of silk across her fur. The princess closes her eyes and lets sleep hold her, but does not let it take her. Night is not a time for a lone princess to rest, as she still has royal duties, even in sleep. As her body lays in bed, she flies through the dreams of her subjects, giving up her own rest to ensure they had theirs.
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((Prepare. Long comment is semi-long))
Shouldn't this be a combined sentence?
Either the comma is in the wrong place, or not needed.
Comma not needed.
Story up till the "story in a story"
It's a good way to start the story as it caught my attention. Twilight with a daughter?
I know this is about Twilight and the other Alicorns, but it would be interesting to see a mother-daughter relationship with the two.
-I do like how you've set this up as a story in a story. Twilight would make a good narrater,
Not sure if serious, or if trying to avoid the birds and the bees.
Wait! I just figured out that... they're dead? :O Didn't see that one coming.
The story till she starts remembering in full is interesting, and keeps getting more interesting as it progresses.
-Side note. Constell is a jerk.
Okay. I think that's pretty much it. I'll come back and read over again later, see if there's anything else.
I read your long description. I take issue with your use of the relative pronoun "whom". I believe that the correct relative pronoun to use is "who". True, the noun-phrase, "those who / whom expect a single theme or mood" acts as an object in the overall sentence. One can therefore assume that the correct relative pronoun to use would reflect the fact that "those" is the object of the sentence. However, the element "those" functions as the subject in the adjective clause, "who / whom expect a single theme or mood". Therefore, the pronoun to use would be the one for subjects rather than objects, I think.
However, I will not profess to be an expert on the technicalities of English and such.
I will instead direct you to a rather weathered text that I have some faith in.
I wish to draw your attention to this example sentence.
The adjective clause is "whom Ruskin oftenest mentions". Here, the painter acts as the object of the adjective clause, while functioning as the subject of the entire sentence. "Turner", of course, functions as the predicate nominative, which serves to either define or describe the subject.
In any case, I will not urge you to make a correction when one is not warranted at all.
But do consider that "who" is perfectly acceptable as a relative pronoun for both objects and subjects of human intelligence.
11931975
Thanks for reading this old story of Ours!
As said in the description's preamble, We haven't touched this in about 11 years. If We return to it, We'll bring it to specific people We choose for editing