An earth pony farmer stood in a light-brown field, scratching at the dry ground with a hoe. The midday sun shone brightly on his worn woven hat, fraying at the edges. The ground resisted his efforts, relinquishing only a small cloud of dust off its surface. The image of a single turnip lay on his haunch, showing his gift with the land.
“I’ll leave you fallow, then,” he said to the field as he hefted the hoe into a holster on his back. He started on to his next field when he noticed a quiet rumble, both in his ears and his hooves. The rumble grew slowly louder, and the rocks on the ground drew his attention as they bounced and skipped off the now trembling field. His ears swiveled back instinctively, having determined the source of the noise. His head followed shortly, but then whipped back as he ran from the fireball now tearing towards the ground.
Not even ten seconds into his all-out sprint, the farmer was knocked from his hooves by an enormous explosion. He fell, face first and underneath his body, onto the dry field. From his new vantage point, he could see the mounds of earth piled up by the impact, which would take weeks to fill back in. He noticed smoke and dust pouring from the crater as he stood and walked to its edge.
The crater wasn’t very deep, maybe four ponies tall, but the depth wasn’t what he noticed. At the floor of the crater lay the Goddess of the Sun, source of all life in Equestria, in the most unorthodox position possible; legs straight up and belly exposed. The farmer quickly pulled his hat down over his face and bowed behind the edge of the crater out of respect.
“Hey, can you help me up?” came from the crater. “I’m kinda stuck down here…”
“Wha…?” fell from the farmer’s mouth.
“I can’t move, the ground’s all wrapped around me. Can you give me a hoof?” said the Goddess.
“I, uh… I…” the farmer fumbled with his words as he half-stepped forward and back from the crater. How was one supposed to address a Goddess? Surely, if he offended her, she could vaporize him instantly, but if he didn’t help, she still might.
“Hey, look, I don’t care who you are or whatever right now. All I care about is if you’re going to help me out of here. Falling from orbit isn’t exactly fun, you know,” yelled the most dignified of legends. The farmer quickly decided that helping would be in his best interest, but then stopped as he realized he couldn’t actually descend the walls.
“Uh, your, uh, majesty… I can’t, uh, get down…” he mumbled over the edge of the crater.
“Oh. Uh, hold on then…”
With a pop and a flash, the Goddess of the Sun appeared at head height in the same position next to him. He covered his eyes with his hat again as she fell, out of respect. The Goddess quickly righted herself and dusted her coat a bit, removing the worst of the dirt. The farmer bowed before her.
“Hey, you got somewhere I can take a bath? I’m a bit of a mess right now,” said the Sun as she surveyed the land. Her eyes widened a bit when she spotted the crater. “And after that, I’ll help you fill in the hole I made. Sorry about that, by the way. Wings don’t work well when they’re on fire,” she said with a laugh.
The farmer trembled before the most powerful being in history.
Comments by Kyronea:
Heh. Princess Celestia is quite relaxed for having set herself on fire and crash landed upside down. Not exactly the most graceful of fliers, is she? I have to wonder what exactly it was she was doing…how the hell did she set herself on fire? Whatever the case, that farmer really ought to calm down. Celestia isn’t exactly showing godly grace towards him, after all—she’s acting like she took a stroll to a corner shop to buy some Jaffa cakes. The disconnect between her behavior and his reaction makes the story quite amusing. Although, I have to wonder why it ended when it did. Seems almost like a non-ending.