Comprehension crashed into Celestia like a buck to the face. She stared into the spacious bathroom mirror, toothpaste dribbling down her chin. Seeing her own pupils shrink, she felt the steadily building weight of her awareness settle upon her. When thought failed her, she put the idea into words: “I’m not ready.” She raised a hoof to wipe away the remaining paste from her chin. Instead, her fetlock pressed against her trembling lips. Slowly, her breathing leveled and her heart eased up on her ribs. Yet the physical calm seemed to act as a catalyst for her mind, for the moment she lowered her hoof a barrage of thoughts turned riotous in her skull. Her rebellious eyes drifted back to her toothbrush. [i]Sorry I fell asleep, Princess. C-can I use your stuff? I promise to be careful.[/i] Letting the toothbrush drop, she staggered back into her chambers. Everywhere she looked, ghostly images flashed before her eyes. A little pony cantered between her legs, and she nearly tripped in an effort not to step on her. [i]You’re so tall! Like a giant. Are you a giant?[/i] On her favorite rug, the same specter raised a book high over her head. [i]One night! Bet you didn’t think I could read that fast. What do you mean, ‘retention?’[/i] She stepped passed her bed, trying not to look at slightly older filly staring up at her with big, tearful blue eyes. [i]Princess? I think there’s a hydra under my bed.[/i] The balcony window bathed her in the streaming sunlight. Through the glass, a mare she’d not seen in many moons glared back at her. [i]Is that really all you have to say to me?[/i] Celestia closed her eyes, willing the mare away. Her heart had gone back to abusing her ribcage. Oh, how it longed to escape the swords running it through. So many swords… Forcing her eyes open, Celestia looked upon the city of Canterlot gleaming beneath the orange sunrise. Tall spires, flapping banners, white walls. Somewhere out there a new student prepared for a new life. The hole in the school tower drew her eye, stirring her guts into a horrendous mess. She’d made her decision. She remained convinced of its appropriateness. So why did she feel like she was plotting murder? Celestia could not ignore the biting words. Her head turned slowly, answering the call despite her reluctance. Follow the carpet, across the bed where the familiar apparition lay sleeping, to the nightstand. There the book lay, as it had for so long. After all this time, would she finally have the courage? Swallowing to moisten her throat, Celestia walked around the bed. She sat and raised her shaking hooves, but they could not approach the tome. She licked her lips, closed her eyes, forced down a slow, deep breath… It weighed more than she recalled. It did not burn her or fling about insults or remind her of her failure. None of the things she’d associated with it came to pass. They’d all been silly, and she’d known it from the beginning. Even so, she stared at it for a long time. Her hooves remained still. No glow formed around her horn. Eyes closed. Deep breath. Eyes opened. A long pause. Celestia’s hoof whipped up, snapping the pages open to the bookmark. A blank sheet greeted her. At the sight of it, the air left Celestia’s lungs. She sagged over the empty pages, a familiar talon tightening over a heart that had slipped down into her hooves. She blamed herself for getting her hopes up, among other things. Seconds turned to minutes. Celestia flipped through page after page of old, familiar messages as more images danced on her retinae. Not a single new word graced her gaze. It was possible that one never would. A quill and inkpot lay on the nightstand. Celestia looked at them, then to the book. Pursing her lips, she took the quill in her magic, filled it with ink, and let it hover over the page. The quill didn’t move. Celestia gritted her teeth. Trembling, the quill lowered to the page. Ink smeared the paper, spreading out slowly, until at last it began to move: [quote]Goodbye.[/quote] Celestia stared at the word for some time, waiting for the pain to dissipate and the weight to lift. Silence filled the still air of the bedroom. She ripped the page out and closed the book. “I’m not ready.”