Breeze

Saturday, 3rd of Blossom

Okay then, where was Ah...

Ah.  Pinkie.

Yeah, Ah took Breeze to see Pinkie.  “Don’t let your friends know about me,” he used to say.  “I’m supposed to do this all on my own,” he used to say.  Ah’m tellin’ ya, he’s singin’ a different tune now that he knows Flare was actually here.  Ah don’t think the whole “lone ranger” act is necessary for him anymore.  And that’s just fine with me, ’cause we can use all the help we can get.

“What if your friend doesn’t know about Flare?  What if they’ve just never met?” he asked.

We were walkin’ down Main Street, which is always a bustle of activity.  A pair of laughing young fillies hopped out of an ice cream shop.

“You and Ah were both in that flower shop, weren’t we?  And the clerk knew for sure that Flare stayed in town ’bout two months ago, right?  Well, if anypony so much as wanders into town to ask for directions, Pinkie’s there with a welcome wagon and a cake.”

“Oh,” he said.  “Well, that’s great.”

Uh oh.  He was actin’ all jittery and upset again—not making eye contact, looking everywhere at once, with wings slightly unfolded, just like he always does whenever he’s nervous.

“What’s the matter?” Ah asked him.  “We’re gettin’ warmer, Breeze.  You might get to see her again.”

“I know,” he said, looking at his hooves while we walked.  “That’s just it.  She left me, didn’t she?  For a reason.  She wanted to get away, and so she did.  What happens if we find her?”

Finally, he turned to look at me.  “What could have been so horrible that it caused her to leave?  She loved me.  I know she did.  That means it couldn’t have been me, right?  It must have been something else.”  He stared at me a moment longer.  “She loved me,” he said again.  Ah didn’t doubt him.

“We’re here,” Ah said.

Sugar Cube Corner was absolutely covered in streamers of every color.  It looked like a rainstorm had passed through, but instead of dropping water, the clouds had dropped rainbows.

“This place sure is colorful,” Breeze remarked.

“Well, it is run by the most colorful of ponies.  Well, it’s not run by Pinkie, but... you get the idea.  Oh, and by the way... Ah wasn’t jokin’ about the cake and the welcome wagon.  Brace yourself.”

We went inside, the little bell above the door ringin’ twice as we each stepped in.  The place was quiet—much more so than usual.

“Huh,” Breeze said.  “Maybe she’s not—”

“Welcome welcome welcome welcome welcome welcome!”A piece of confetti landed squarely on Breeze’s nose, and another few curled up in his hair.

“She’s here,” Ah said, smilin’.

“I haven’t seen you before!  That means you must be new!And if you’re new that means we’re not best friends yet!  But we are now because my name is Pinkie Pie and when you tell me yours it will be official!”

Breeze looked like he didn’t know whether to smile or to back himself into the corner.  Poor fella.  Ah should have warned him better.

“My name is Beaufort B—”

“Beaufort?What kind of name is that?I can’t even rhyme that with anything!  That’ll make it hard to sing my second welcome song!  Beaufort... tree fort... comfort... Newport...”

Breeze practically gulped.  “Second welcome song?”

“Of course!  Do you like lemons?  You look like the kind of pony who would like lemons. And you’re sure to like cake so lemon cake it is!  But don’t—”

It was time to put an end to this.  You get pretty good at dealin’ with Pinkie when you’ve done it for as long as Ah have.  “Okay, Pinkie, you’re friends now.  And your friends here need your help.”

“Oh, oh, with what?”

Breeze cleared his throat and stepped forward.  “I’m looking for a mare.  She was in town about two months ago.  She’s sky blue with—”

“Oh!”  Pinkie hopped up and down excitedly.  “You must be talking about Flare!  She was soooo nice!  She helped me move things and bake things and...”

Ah tuned Pinkie out and turned to look at Breeze.  He was still starin’ at Pinkie, but Ah could tell he wasn’t really seein’ her—he was seeing somepony else.  His face was alight, but it scared me; Ah’ve seen what can happen when somepony sacrifices everything for another, when somepony even gives up his own nature and soul for the one he loves.  You might know what Ah’m talkin’ about—if you don’t, well, that’s another story.  A long one.

The point is, it can be dangerous.

“...and helped me sell treats and blew up balloons and wrote cards!”

Breeze hardly waited for her to finish.  “Do you know where she is now?  Where she went?”  Ah admired the restraint in his voice.  Ah also breathed a sigh of relief, because Ah knew then and there that Breeze wouldn’t ever lose himself like the figure from that long story.  Breeze was too timid, he was too collected... he was too smart.  Sometimes he lost control of his grief, but he never let his grief define him.

“Nope!”  Pinkie stopped hopping, tilting her head to the side while her face drew down into a frown.   “One day she was there and the next she was gone!  And that made me so sad, because she was so nice to have around.  But the night before she left she said, ‘Pinkie, thanks for everything.  I really need a friend right now, and I found one in you.  Thanks.’  I remember those exact words because I felt so happy inside to know that I meant so much to her.”

“Do you know anything else?” Ah asked her.  “Anythin’ that could help us find her?”

Pinkie rubbed her chin.  “Hmmm... she didn’t tell me anything.  But I can show you her room.  She stayed right here in the guest bedroom.”

We both followed her up the stairs.  She was humming softly to herself—not her usual cheerful tune, but a sad one, one that reminded me of how Ah felt when Ah was alone in Manehattan as a filly.  It set the mood, and for a moment Ah sympathized with Breeze more than ever before; goin’ up those stairs, not sure what he would find, or even what he was lookin’ for.

Simply put, our journey to her bedroom was uneventful.  Breeze looked around a moment, touched the bed that Pinkie must have made recently, peered into the empty closet.  Nothing to see or look at, nothing that said to him, “Flare was here.”  Which Ah know is what he was hopin’ for.  He just nodded, and we headed back down the stairs, Pinkie at the lead.

“I’m sorry you didn’t find anything,” Pinkie said as we headed to the door.

“That’s alright, Pinkie,” Breeze said.  “Can I ask you a few questions about her?  Maybe we can figure something out.  Where she went, why she left... something like that.”

“Well sure,” Pinkie said, though without her usual bounce.  Ah think she understood the magnitude of the situation.  She may be a tad... excessive... from time to time, but underneath that pink coat of hers is a pony who lives her life for others, cheesy as that may sound.  But Ah promise you it’s true.  She can be the most compassionate friend you could ask for, if you’re in need of one.  Ah s’pose she saw Breeze was in need of one.

“Can you tell me how you met her?  How she ended up here?”

“Well,” Pinkie said, rubbing her chin, “I first met her sometime during Harvest.  She came into the shop asking for peanut fudge brownies.  I remember that because those are my favorite, too.  I’m glad she ordered them, because she could have used some fattening up, and so I picked out the kind for her with the most fudge, which also happens to be how I like them.  I gave them to her, and then she asked if I needed any help around the shop.”

She giggled under her breath.  It was such a Pinkie thing to do that Ah couldn’t help but smile.  “I said ‘Of course I can!’ Because Mr. and Mrs. Cake were out of town, and sometimes I think they don’t fully trust me, and this girl looked so calm and trustworthy, I could just tell!  The Cakes give me tons of work to keep me busy, and probably also so I don’t eat everything.  It would be so nice to have another pair of hooves to help me out and keep me company!

“She told me her name was Sunflare.  I really liked that name!  We became best friends right away.

Ah looked to see if Breeze reacted to that at all, but he kept listening with rapt attention.

“She would bring the boxes from storage so I could unpack the flour and sugar and ingredients.  We would talk the whole time.  Well, I did most of the talking, but she was such a great listener!  She told me she moved here from somewhere else because she wanted peace and quiet, but when she came into town she loved it all so much that she decided to help out everypony as much as she could.  Like me!  She also told me she was married—”

“What?”Breeze burst out.

“Yep!  I’m not surprised; who wouldn’t want a lovely mare like her?  Anyway, she said she was married, but her husband wasn’t in town.  I could tell she didn’t really want to talk about that, so I never asked her.  Other than that, she didn’t say much.  She told me stories, like how when she was little she saw a unicorn for the very first time, and she asked her mother—”

Breeze giggled.  “—‘Why does that pony have an ice cream cone on her head? And where are her wings?’”  Now he laughed, pressing a hoof to his mouth to contain it.  “I love that story.  It gets me every time.”

“How’d you know that?”  Pinkie smiled.  “Anyway, she seemed very nice, and that’s all I know about her.”

She looked away for that last part, and Ah had a feelin’ she was lying.  In fact, Ah knew she was lyin’.  The only pony worse than Pinkie at lyin’ is... well, yours truly.

“Pinkie, what are you hidin’?”

Breeze turned to me, curious, his giggles defeated.

“Nothing,” she said, looking at somethin’ in the ceiling.  Lying for sure.  Ah took a step closer to her.

“Pinkie, if you don’t tell us everythin’ you know, then Ah’m not comin’ to your next party.”

“I can’t!” she yelped.  “I made a Pinkie Promise!  I can’t break it!”

“C’mon, Pinkie, you have to.  This is really important.  Trust me, as your friend, you need to tell us.”

Now she was nearly cryin’.  Pinkie and her mood swings.  But Ah knew it was serious... she was right about Pinkie Promises.  You don’t break them.  You just don’t.So Ah knew what Ah was askin’ her: it was a big deal.

“I can’t tell you about the package!  I can’t!  She made me promise!  It’s for one pony’s eyes only!  Eep!  I’ve said too much already!”

“A package?” Breeze stepped towards Pinkie.  “Please; if it’s a package, I need to see it.  She’s my friend.  She’d want me to see it.”

Pinkie was practically panicking.  She was torn between her best friend Sunflare, her best friend Applejack, and her best friend Breeze.

“Breeze,” Ah said, “maybe if we—”

“Wait,” Pinkie stopped quivering immediately.  “Your name is Breeze? I thought it was Beaufort! What the hay!”

“Well, it’s Breeze... Beaufort Breeze.It’s a long story, and I—”

“Oh,” Pinkie said, suddenly smiling and humming and bouncing as if nothing had ever happened.  “In that case, you can come see the package.  Tee-heehee!”

Breeze was confused, unable to compute.  Ah think Pinkie broke him.  Ah should have warned him better about her.

“Wait... so I can see it?  That won’t break your Pinkie Promise, or whatever?”

Pinkie laughed.  “Nope!  I’m only allowed to give it to one pony... and that’s you!  She said only Breeze could see it.  And you’re Breeze!  So you can see it.  Isn’t that great?”

Breeze looked at me, then back at Pinkie, then back at me again.  Then he smiled.  “Yeah.  That really is great!”

***

“You stay here while I get it,” Pinkie said.  Then, she lowered her voice: “It’s in my super secret hiding place, and I can’t let you know where that is.”  She snuck off.

“Any idea what’s gonna be in this package of yours?”

“None.”  He turned to me and smiled.  It was infectious—Ah couldn’t help but grin back.  “But it’s from her.  Isn’t that something.”

Pinkie finally returned from the storage room, which I assumed to be her “secret hiding place.”

“I’m back from the storage—I mean, my secret hiding place!  One package for a Mr. Breeze!”  She held it out.  It was a plain white box, no visible marking on any surface.

Breeze tentatively grasped it, then placed it on the floor.  Pinkie and Ah gathered around.

He lifted the top off.

“Oh,” he said.

In the box was an envelope.  “To: Breeze,” it said on the outside in pretty, curly cursive writing.  It was sitting atop something else, but that something was obscured by the envelope, which was the focus of our attention.

“That’s from her... that really is.  I’d know that mouthwriting anywhere.”  He sighed.  Then he turned to me.  “I’m going to open it,” he said.

Ah nodded.  Pinkie watched solemnly.

“Here goes.”

He tore open the envelope, then gently slid out the paper from inside.  It was a folded in half down the middle, and he brushed it open, revealing more of the ornate cursive font.

He read in silence for what felt like five minutes.  Pinkie and Ah waited quietly, while the atmosphere in the room grew thicker and thicker.  At one point Breeze drew in a sharp breath, but he read on.  His face was unreadable.  Then, he dropped the letter to the ground; it fell like a snowflake, or a leaf, swinging away from him as it fell.  The impact was like a silent explosion.

Breeze turned away.

Ah picked up the letter, and when he said nothing, Ah read it.  This is what it said:

Dear Breeze,

The first thing I must say is that it’s not you.  It was never you, and if you blame yourself I won’t ever forgive you.  I love you—you know that.

If you’re reading this (and, knowing you, you are), then you followed me.

If you really love me, you’ll go back.  Please.  Turn around.  There are eleven whole years of memories.  Hold on to those and don’t ever let go.

I’ll never forget you.  You were a true friend, the best anypony could ask for.  And you still are.  That’s why you’re here, and that’s why you’re reading this.

And that’s why you must go back.  Remember the Flare you knew.  The nights we spent together as foals; the obstacle course; the jokes and the laughs; the good times and the bad.  The times we almost kissed, the times we did kiss.  Gosh, I know how corny this all sounds, but I mean it.

You must have so many questions... but I can’t answer them.  The truth is too big for a letter, it can’t be written in ink; even though I’ve said it aloud to myself time and time again, saying it to you would kill me.

Every day I suffer—not just because I’m away from you, but because of how cruelly I left you, like a dog dropped off at the pound, unsure why his companion is walking away, where he’s going, how long he’ll be gone.  I treated you like a dog, Breeze.  For that I’ll never forgive myself.

I know you’ll still follow.  I love you for that.  But you won’t find me.  You never will.  So please just return to Martingale; or, if you so choose, go somewhere else.  Do what I did and visit a new place, become a new face, help those who need it.  Fall in love.  Don’t argue—I’m ordering you.

This is so wrong.  I’m such a coward.  But I had to.  I couldn’t do it.

Just know that, when we’re both old and slow, weak of body but strong with wisdom and memories, when we’re so close to the end that all we can do is look back... know that in those moments, we’ll see each other.  And maybe—who knows?—soon after that, we really will be together.  If fate exists, it owes us that.

So go.  A little patience is all we need.

Love forever,

Sunflare

P.S.,

There’s a gift in the box for you.  It took me forever to find it.  I hope it will bring back memories of the better days.

Ah read it a second time.  Then Ah looked up at Breeze.  He was still standin’ there, facin’ away, not moving.

“Breeze, Ah’m sorry,” Ah said.  He didn’t respond—just kept lookin’ at the wall.

Ah handed the letter to Pinkie, who took it slowly and carefully, like it was made of glass.

“Breeze.”  Nothin’.  Like he couldn’t even hear me.

Ah turned my attention to the box.  It was filled with crumpled paper, which Ah removed piece by piece.  Each little paper ball made a loud rustlin’ and crinklin’ sound as Ah took it out, which shot through the silence as Breeze quietly stared at the wall and Pinkie soundlessly read the note.  Ah was hopin’ the commotion would grab his attention, make him curious, and Ah was plannin’ on that curiosity gettin’ the better of him.

It worked.  As stubborn and upset as he wanted to be, he couldn’t keep lookin’ away while Ah went through his gift from Flare.  Heck, the curiosity was killin’ me, so Ah can’t imagine what it must have been like for him.

“Please, let me open it,” he said.

“Ah thought you’d never ask.”

While he took one little paper ball out at a time, Ah tried to imagine what must have been goin’ through his head.  The letter changed everything—first, it crushed all hope that Flare had changed her mind, or that she would ever come back to him.  No sir; unless Breeze catches her, she’s gone for good.  Second, it forces Breeze into a real tough position: “If you love me,” Flare said, “you’ll go back.”  That right there is what Twi’ would call an ocksi-moron, or maybe a parade-ox, or maybe there isn’t even a word for it.  Basically, Breeze’s love for Flare that’s makin’ him chase after her... and now she’s tryin’ to use that same love to push him away.

...Ah can’t say Ah like this Flare girl.  Ah mean, what she’s done to Breeze... that’s unforgivable, in my book.  Ah try and Ah try, but Ah can’t think up a good reason for causing so much hurt.

The saddest thing is that what she said in the letter is true: no matter what happens, Breeze will live.  He loves her, but he can’t search forever.  Eventually he’ll reach the end of his road, and he’ll have to admit defeat.  He’s in love, but he’s not stupid.

Finally he removed the last crumpled ball.

Ah couldn’t see inside the box from where Ah was standin’—he was blocking my view.  After about twenty seconds of silence, Ah was about to say something.  That’s when he lifted the object out of the box.

It was a vinyl album.  After a moment he stepped back, holding it gently in his hooves, allowin’ me to get a better look.

The album was On the Run, by The Wingspans.

***

It’s been a messy, confusin’ few days; sometimes Ah just don’t know what to feel, and Breeze isn’t faring any better.   He’s got too many thoughts to deal with at once, and sometimes I can see them bubble up in his mind one at a time—first anger at her for leaving, then anger at himself for not being able to find her, then self-pity for being alone... he’s a mess.

The letter changed everything, though.  He’s still mostly a mystery to me, but Ah always suspected that he used to have some hope.  Now that’s dashed away, and it’s like he doesn’t even have a future to look forward to.

We went back to the farm after thankin’ Pinkie for her help.  There was no new clue or hint, nowhere else to go.  Just that letter and the record.

“So, what’s next, partner?”  Ah asked him solemnly as we trekked back home.  The sun was meltin’ orange and pink, and in the distance Ah could see pegasi assemblin’ a field of clouds.  “What do we do?”

“Nothing.”

Ah stopped.  “Nothin’?  What do you mean?”

He turned and looked me in the eyes.  “We do nothing.  It’s over.  You read the letter, didn’t you?  She doesn’t want me to follow her.  Whatever happened, she thinks it’s best if we just go separate ways.”

My jaw must have nearly hit the floor.  “Who is this pony Ah’m talkin’ to?You’re givin’ up just like that?  Breeze, you came all this way.  You can’t stop.”

“I don’t have a choice.”

“Of course you have a choice!

“She doesn’t want me to follow.”

“No,  but she still expects you to.”

“Ok, fine.  You clearly know what’s best for me.  Then where do we go, huh?  What next?  We have nothing to go on.  What’s your plan, huh?”

“My plan is for you to stop actin’ irrationally and start bein’ the Breeze Ah thought Ah knew.”

“What would that Breeze do?”

“Not give up, that’s for sure.”

“Well maybe that Breeze was living on false hope.  The new Breeze knows better.”

By now we were nearly nose an’ nose, not quite shoutin’ but certainly not bein’ very civil.  Ah won’t lie: my temper began to flare.  Who was he to go changing his mind on me, after everything Ah did for him?

“So what is the New Breeze gonna do then, eh?  Go back to Martingale and cry and whine and not do anything?”

“Well maybe the New Breeze doesn’t love her anymore!”

That stopped me right in my tracks.

“Look me in the eye and tell me that.”

“What?”

“Look me in the eye and tell me, in all honesty, that you don’t love her anymore.”

“You know I can’t do that.”

“Exactly.  That’s why you gotta follow her.”

“You read the letter.”

“Ah sure did.  Ah don’t know why she left, but it’s clear that she made a mistake.  And if she’s not gonna do anything about it, then it’s up to you.  You gotta find her, partner.  For both of you.”

He sighed, and right then and there Ah thought Ah had won.  Then he shook his head furiously, as if tryin’ to clear my words out of his brain.

“No,” he said.  “Sorry.  If you’ll let me, I’ll spend tonight in your stable again.  Your hospitality won’t be forgotten.  Tomorrow I’ll be heading back home.”

“Breeze,” Ah breathed, at a loss for words.  “You can’t really mean that.”

His eyes burned into mine.  “Every word.”

Ah cringed back from him.  His words stung like a blow to the head, and all at once Ah felt betrayed, both for myself and for Flare.

“Ok, Breeze,” Ah whispered, turnin’ away to hide what might have been tears of sorrow or tears of rage.  “If that’s really what you want.”

We traveled the rest of the way in silence.

***

Ah paced across my bedroom—over to the window, back to the door, over to the window, back to the door.  Sleep was not comin’ easy to me that night.  The rest of the Apples were still in Appleoosa, so the house was empty save for myself.  Bein’ alone in the creaky old home, Ah did what Ah always do when nopony’s around: Ah talked to myself.

Loudly.

“Just leave him and let ’im do what he wants!”

“But what about her?  If you let him walk away, you’re leavin’ her out there alone!”

“She’s already alone.  Why’d ya think she left in the first place?”

“Ah don’t know.  Neither does he.  But she wants to be found, Ah can just tell.  And he wants to find her—Ah can see that, too, even though he’s bein’ stubborn and naïve about it.”

“Do you see how much stress he’s causin’ you?  What if she doesn’t exist?  What if he’s just crazy?”

“Do you really think that?”

“Are you kidding?  He’s the definition of crazy.”

“No—that she doesn’t exist.  You saw the photo.”

“Crazy in love.  Or somethin’ like that.  C’mon, AJ, you can’t just let him leave.  It’ll kill him.  Her, too, probably.  ’Sides, you’re callin’ him crazy?  Take a look at yourself.  If Granny Smith walked in seein’ you argue with yourself, she’d—”

“She’d what?  She’d probably join you.  Just let him—”

My eyes fell upon the box near my hat stand.  Its white sides glared out into the darkness.  The lid was crooked.

He had left it with me.  He didn’t want it near him while he slept—he didn’t want to be alone with the box, her box.  The one that contained the note that hurt him so deeply.

Curiously, Ah headed to the window.  Outside, nothin’ but darkness; no movement except the wind through the trees, and the stable—Breeze’s temporary home—was visible only by the light of the stars.

Back to the box.  Ah pushed the crooked lid aside, revealing the note.  That’s not what Ah needed.  Behind the note was my target.

Ah carefully pulled the record from the box, balancing it upon two hooves.  Even in the darkness, the rough-yet-smooth vinyl glowed with the sheen of a polished apple.

The disc slid easily into place upon the record player.  Ah ran to the window and opened it, lettin’ in a cool night’s breeze and a chorus of crickets.  Back at the player, Ah slowly slid the needle out, then dropped it gently into the middle of the album.

After two cranks of the handle, a buttery-smooth voice began flowin’ from the phonergraff:

Youtube Video

Mamunia, Mamunia, Mamunia

Oh....

Mamunia, Mamunia, Oh...

The rain comes falling from the sky,

To fill the stream that fills the sea,

And that’s where life began for you and me.

So the next time you see rain, it ain’t bad;

Don’t complain—it rains for you,

The next time you see heavy rain clouds,

Don’t complain—it rains for you and me.

Mamunia...

Ah aimed the round metal bell of the phonergraff to the window.  Then Ah sat and listened.  The song was beautiful—the type of song that just feels right on a breezy summer night.  Like it was meant to be played alongside the wind through the trees, with the twinkling stars serving as a backdrop for the soft strums of an acoustic guitar.

It might have been a bright blue day,

But rainclouds had to come this way;

They’re watering everything that they can see.

A seed is waiting in the earth,

For rain to come and give him birth—

It’s all he really needs to set him free.

Then Ah saw it: a golden glow through the windows of the stable.  Ah smiled and sat back, satisfied.  Though Ah could no longer see out the window, Ah didn’t need to; the gentle creaking of the stable door opening said it all.

So the next time you see heavy rainclouds,

Don’t complain—it rains for you.

So lay down your umbrellas,

Strip off your plastic macs—

You’ve never felt the rain, my friend,

Till you’ve felt it running down your back.

Ah heard the side door opening downstairs, then soft hoof-falls through the hallway, then slowly up the stairs.

So the next time you see rain, it ain’t bad;

Don’t complain—it rains for you,

The next time you see heavy rainclouds,

Don’t complain—it rains for you and me.

Down the hallway he came, just like Ah knew he would, until he was finally at my doorway.

Ah could already see it in his eyes, which surveyed me with a strange mixture of both victory and defeat.

“Fine,” he said.  “We’ll keep looking.”

Mamunia... Mamunia...

“’Atta boy. C’mere.  Sit.”

He hesitated, and for a moment the room was still except for the music in the air and the soft tsssss of needle meeting vinyl.  Then he slowly walked to the empty spot next to me.

We sat against each other, eyes closed, hearing the wind and the summer air and The Wingspans.

Mamunia, Mamunia, Mamunia oh...

That’s how we found ourselves the next morning, the record player long since out of cranks with which to spin and vinyl with which to play.

***

It was Twilight who found the next clue.

Ah invited her over for lunch by way of letter after comin’ downstairs with Breeze.  ’Course, I didn’t tell him she was comin’, because even though he accepted help from Pinkie, Ah can tell he still didn’t like the idea of other ponies knowing about him.  This was his lone mission, yadda yadda, he couldn’t have other ponies helping him, blah blah blah.  Ah just thought Twilight might have the brains to figure out what we should do.  Turns out Ah was right.

He was real nervous at first, and shot me a mean glance while Twi’ scarfed down some apple porridge.  His own porridge went untouched as he hid behind another of Granny’s crossword books.  For some reason Ah thought that was pretty funny.

“Thanks for inviting me over, Applejack!  This is delic—”  She stopped mid-sentence and squinted toward Breeze, who only hid further behind his book.  “Oh, hey!  Is that the Hoofington Times fourth edition crossword book?”

He cautiously lowered the big yellow thing, like a swimmer testin’ the water.  “Actually, it’s the revised fourth edition.”

Five minutes later the pair was gigglin’ and talkin’ like they’d known each other for years.

“So your name is Beaufort Breeze?  Beaufort as in the unit of measure for wind speed?”

“Yep!” Breeze grinned.  “You’re the only pony I’ve ever run into who knew that.”

“Breeze,” Ah said, “you told me your name was a long story.  That wasn’t a long story!  Why couldn’t you have said that?”

“Well,” his grin faltered, “I really just don’t like that name.”

“Actually,” Twilight said, “I think that’s a great name.  It’s mature, but not arrogant, and the alliteration between ‘Beaufort’ and ‘Breeze’ is very melodic.”

“Oh,” Breeze grinned, flustered.  Ah swear Ah could see his cheeks burning red.  “Why... thank you.”

Twilight turned to me, leavin’ Breeze grinning stupidly.  “So, AJ—how’s your logbook coming along?  You should have tons of data by now.  I noticed when I came in that the apples are looking deliciously ripe.  The rain these past few days must have been good for them.”

“Oh, yeah,” Ah chuckled, for some reason feelin’ a little guilty.  “The logbook is comin’ along just fine.  Tons of data and whatnot.”

She eyed me suspiciously, and Ah remembered that Ah’m about as good at lying as Ah am at flying.  Ah don’t think this is the type of “data” that Twi’ was talking about.

“Ah’ll be right back!” Ah pushed back my chair and headed toward the stairs.  Breeze shot me a panicked glance, like he was uncomfortable bein’ left alone with Twilight.  Ah just rolled my eyes and made my way up the stairs.

When Ah came back down a minute later, Twilight was happily (and a mite messily) eating her way through a slice of apple pie.  Breeze was absentmindedly clopping his hooves together.

“Hey Twi’?”

She acknowledged my question with a tilt of her head.

“Know anything about this?”  Ah placed the vinyl album on the table before her, careful to avoid spots of porridge or crumbs.

She wiped her hooves with a napkin, then gently picked up the disc.  “Hey, The Wingspans!  I love them.  Wow, this record is in great condition.”

Breeze watched with both interest and a slight confusion, like he didn’t know what my goal was.  Ah guess that’s because Ah never really explained to him about Twilight... if there’s anything we can learn from the gift Sunflare left him, Twilight can figure it out.

She flipped the record over.  “Hmm... great condition except for this marking.  What does this say?”

Breeze’s eyes grew wide, and he nearly knocked his chair to the ground as he moved next to Twilight, trying to get a better view.

“Lumen Hill,” she read.

Ah moved in for a closer look, too.  And—yep.  Right there, on the track listing, etched underneath “Drink to Me.”  Lumen Hill.The same angled cursive writing as from the letter.  Probably the same pen, too, just smaller and harder to see.

“What...” Breeze breathed.  “What does it mean?”

“Ah’ll tell you what it means.”  He turned to me, eyebrows raised along with his hopes.  “It means she was conflicted when she wrote you that letter.  It means she wrote that you should turn back, but part of her didn’t want you to.  Part of her wanted to to follow.  So she wrote where she was going on the record, hoping you would see it.  It means she still wants you to find her.”

“Um, guys?”  Twilight smiled slightly, like we were sharin’ a joke that she wasn’t in on.  “What are you talking about?  Who is ‘she?’”

Breeze was too busy with this new discovery to answer her questions.  “Twilight.  Applejack.  Do either of you know where Lumen Hill is?”

“Well, sure,” Twilight said, her smile slipping away, “but I still don’t understand what’s happening.”

“Twi’, if you help us out now, Ah promise Ah’ll let you in on everything when it’s over.”

She sighed.  If there’s one thing Twi’ doesn’t like, it’s not knowing something.  “Fine.  Does anypony here have a map?”

***

East.  That’s where Lumen Hill is, and that’s where we’re heading.

From what Twilight could find on the map and in her books, the Hill was a battleground, long before Breeze or Twi’ or Ah were born.  Like so many wars, the conflict was a silly one, probably over land or power or something like that.  Both sides faced heavy losses, and Twi’ says the books don’t list either as the winner.  Today, it’s just a hill, alone and abandoned save for some other hills and lumps in the earth that surround it.

Breeze had no clue why Flare would want to go there.  But that was her final message for him, even after the note.  So there we’re heading, beginning tomorrow mornin’.  The map says it’s a three day journey, but Ah’m not an Apple if Ah can’t make it in two.  We’ll see how Breeze holds up—hopefully those wings of his can keep up.

Ah’m less concerned about his wings than Ah am about his mind, though.  Too many emotions for one pony to handle.  Ah was afraid this new clue, the little note on the record, would simply overload him.  One day he thinks he’s about to find her, the next he finds a note tellin’ him to turn back, then the next he’s discoverin’ a clue that beckons him to find her again.  Luckily, none of my fears came true—instead of mopin’ about in sadness and self-pity, after findin’ the note on the record Ah’ve noticed a hop in his step that Ah’ve never seen in him before.  Maybe Ah don’t have to worry after all.

Ah was packing my bags for the trip tonight when Ah looked out my bedroom window and saw him in the darkness outside.  He was just starin’ at the stars, maybe wishin’ on them.  My Granny used to tell me that in times of need, one of those stars would fall from the sky to the ground, and somehow that would help solve whatever the problem was.  Granny doesn’t always make sense, and that story is one of her wackier ones, but it made me wonder if Breeze was thinkin’ the same thing, if maybe his mother or granny used to tell him stories like that, too.  As Ah watched, he got up and slowly walked back to the stable, lookin’ up to the stars every few steps as if expectin’ them to change.

Leavin’ the window, Ah thew my lasso, some apples, and a pair of galoshes into my traveling pack.  Ah’ve always been of the opinion that it’s better to travel prepared than to travel light.

Tomorrow mornin’ we head off.  This is it.  She wanted us to follow, so follow her we will.

...Ah’m just afraid of what we might find.