Celestia and Anon: Zenith

>The next few days were a complete whirlwind of activity
>Between the questions, Celestia fabricating new sets of clothes based off of your PJs,  installing a bathroom for you, and adding some furniture for your clothes and the new room, it's been hectic
>But you've managed to get your life down to a pretty reasonable schedule
>Wake up, read, eat breakfast, read, eat lunch, read, eat dinner, talk with Celestia, sleep
>A very boring life by any other standards, but the tomes of knowledge supplied are giving you adequate entertainment
>Plus, the maid pony who brings you your meals is pretty nice. A blue and and green unicorn, Featherduster
>She looks a lot like Allie Way, being all tall and thin like she is
>Doesn't talk much, but she's always happy to see you and enjoys her work

>You sit now on your bed, yawning a bit and looking out the window
>Celestia has been the most gracious of hosts, and you've done your best to answer her questions
>You've tried to cull your misanthropic notions about humanity, and represent them as best you could, telling her as many details as possible
>She was somewhat surprised and possibly offended when she found out you were an omnivore, but relaxed when you told her you would never think of eating a sapient species
>It would be akin to cannibalism in your eyes
>She relaxed after that, thankfully
>You look up and spy your desk, a stack of books on one side
>They are the ones you've completed, and they are quite voluminous texts
>And. ..strangely enough, you can recall the data within almost perfectly
>It's strange, really. You never had such a good memory until now.
>You've brought it up with Celestia, asking her if she's putting something in the food, but she assures you that there's nothing in it
>She suggested maybe your improved diet had a hoof. . .er, hand, in it
>It's still very strange
>The lamp is also running low on oil
>You'll need to ask Featherduster for some more

>You then look to your 'Fourth Wall', as you've named it
>The wall that stands between you and Canterlot proper
>You've managed to stack up the table and the chair to peer out of it, and you seem to be in a room that's at ground level, somewhere in the Gardens, perhaps
>There's no real landmarks you use to pinpoint your location
>You've tried to fit through the window, and sadly, you cannot
>You sigh, half expecting Pinkie to appear in the window sill at any moment, knowing her ability to break fourth walls
>Sadly, her power is restricted to Ponyville
>You muse if this is a blessing or a curse, knowing that Pinkie is pretty much a ball of cocaine powered cotton candy
>You chuckle at your joke, and look to your bookshelf

>It is your one escape from this room, a portal to worlds beyond the stone walls
>The novels within are a lot like human novels, but have pony counterparts, like Dr. Livingstem.
>Your mind is able to perfectly paint the pictures from the words within the books, down to the very sounds the character would hear
>You wonder if your mind will eventually evolve to feel the things the character does as well
>That would probably be unfortunate for you
>You'll have to avoid stories in which the main character dies, if that's the case
>You sigh, wanting to delve into the sea of knowledge before you, but you are somewhat listless
>You do want to nap, but you might worry Featherduster again
>You've missed lunch three days in a row, and this would be the fourth
>Choices, choices

>You resolve to instead read the created works of others, you shall create works to read
>You rise from your reclined position and shuffle over to your bookshelf, searching for a specific text
>You produce a copy of proper handwriting with a quill and inkwell, intended for baby dragons who are raised as assistants
>From what you've seen, Spike essentially has the same hand structure as you
>While you don't doubt your penmanship, you've never written with a quill before
>You take the book to your desk, opening it and laying it to your left, and getting a piece of parchment in front of you
>You move the chair from the small table and take out the quill and inkwell, and begin to read and write

>Some time passes, and you look at your paper
>It's filled with ink blots and smears, and your hands are stained with ink from your mistakes
>You feel satisfied, however, learning a new skill like this
>You stand and head into the bathroom, washing your hands of the ink
>As you finish, you hear a knock on the door
>It is about noon, isn't it?
>Open the door, and there she is, Featherduster, and a covered plate hovering behind her
>She sets it on the table and asks if you need anything else
>You say you'll need some more oil for the lamp, and you'll need her to throw out the parchment you used
>She looks over and chuckles, joking about your penmanship
'Give me two more tries, and it'll be perfect. Third time's the charm, right?'
>She smiles and turns to leave, shutting the door behind her
>You move the chair over from the desk and sit down, devouring the vegetarian delights before you
>You forgot how good the lunch is here

>The rest of the day is a maelstrom of ink and parchment and words
>You writing hand is cramped by the end of it, but you've managed to make the letters and words somewhat readable
>But your hands still get covered in ink
>You feel proud, and as you reflect upon your accomplishments, you hear another knock on the door
>You blink, seeing your room awash in the golden glow of sunset
>Hm, it's a bit early for dinner, isn't it?
>You open the door again, and Celestia is there
'Oh, your majesty. I didn't expect you to be here so soon.'
>She looks at your hands, and raises an eyebrow.
'Oh, this? Ha ha, caught me red handed, as it were. I'm trying to learn how to write with a quill. It's a bit difficult.'
>She smiles and moves to come in, and takes her seat by the table, using the same old pillow to sit upon
>She must really like that pillow
>You excuse yourself and go to wash up
>When you come back, Celestia has practice sheets in front of her, reading over them carefully.
>You take your seat across from her, and she looks up from the papers
>'Well, you certainly do learn fast! It's a bit messy, but I'm sure you can improve.'
'I'll do my best, your majesty.'
>'Are you sure your kind doesn't have Cutie Marks? Yours would be one related to literature, for sure.'
'Ha, I'm flattered, but there are many better writers out there than mine.'
>She smiles, reveling in your humility
>She loves that part about you, and is sure to remind you of it

>When you ask her why she's here so early, she says that she entrusted Luna to set the sun tonight
>Even a princess wants a break every now and then, and Luna has been wanting to try her hand at it
>If the sun doesn't go down soon, though, she'll have to cancel tonight's session to make sure everything is in order
>This puts you on edge for a while, but soon enough, the sun does set, bathing the room in blue light
>You reach over and turn on the lamp, the flame produced a bit dimmer than usual
'Featherduster said she'd bring some more oil. Though I'm sure you'd be able to light up the room with just your mane, huh?'
>She giggles and nods as you set the lamp on the table and sit back down
>You engage in idle chit chat for a while, and soon Featherduster brings dinner for both of you
>She also has a vial of oil with her, and you ask her to leave it on the desk
>The meal is much like the first dinner you had, and it's still as delicious as it was the first time
>Celestia asks her usual questions about humanity and Earth, and some personal ones as well
>Your friends, family, any lovers you may of courted, and enemies you have made
>She seems to be getting more personal each time
>It's slightly concerning, but you push it out of your mind
>You do have something you've been meaning to ask, though
'Your majesty, do you think you could acquire some volumes on Magic Theory?'


>She looks at you with a half annoyed, half curious look
>She dislikes being called 'Your Majesty' by you, even though you are trying to be polite
>'Your race cannot do magic, I thought? Why would you need them?'
'Well, I think that the magic of this world might be why my memory is so much better. It's like. . .background magic, or something.'
>'I admire your curiosity. I will look in the archives for something like that. Personally, I still think it's your diet. Based on what you told me about human food, I'm surprised you haven't had heart problems or something.'
'Hah, I know. Who ever heard of deep frying candy bars? Twice, even!'
>You share a laugh at this, and continue the session
>Eventually, the lamp begins to flicker, and your eyes droop slightly
>She takes these cues as a time to finish a bit early, and sees herself out
>You thank her for her time as usual, and yawn a bit, walking over to your bed and plopping down on it
>You won't bother with a shower tonight, you'll take one when you get up
>You strip down to your undies and bury yourself covers, laying down on the pillows with a sigh
>. . .only to smell something off
>You open your eyes and sit up, looking around
>The light provided by the dying lamp allows you do see the source of the odor
>It's the pillow Celestia always sits on.
'Dammit, Celestia.'
>You toss it off the bed and go to sleep proper, only to hear a faint giggle from the hallway as you do.