The street was quiet, save for the pit-pattering of water on stone. Small puddles had formed as the water filled the cracks between the masonry, creating tiny yet elaborate systems of lakes and rivers. As it continued to fall from the heavens, the rain fed and nurtured the flowing passages, the gentle and almost melodious splashes joining together by the thousands in a subdued cacophony of white noise.
Nopony in Ponyville was out today in this weather—courtesy of the local weather pegasi, as it normally was. That is, nopony with the exception of one; a somewhat different pegasus than others, in terms of habits and mannerisms if nothing else. She forfeited the decision to fly, instead opting to walk by her lonesome down the main road of the town. This was unusual for most pegasi, to be sure; but not for this one in particular.
Her teal-colored mane was slicked down, soaked by the falling water above, and her golden-yellow coat was thoroughly dampened as well. She did not seem to mind, as she continued walking at a constant pace forward. Now and again, her gaze would turn from one side to the next, up to the cloud-filled sky, or down at the puddle-spotted street. Wherever she looked, she bore an expression of simple neutrality—appearing as if she was in passing recognition, deep thought, and intense scrutiny, all at the same time.
The mare continued walking by her lonesome through the town, her gaze catching sight of a still-lit window. It was late afternoon, but the cloud cover had done much to cover the light from above, and thus the day felt much later than it truly was. Inside the house, she could spot shapes moving about, indiscriminately. Ponies attending to their own business, she reckoned. She did not know of what sort, but she did know it was none of her business.
She continued on without further thought of them. Of all things she did wonder though, was that why very few could see the beauty in the rain that now fell. Why stay indoors? Why ignore the rainfall? Did they honestly believe that being out in the rain was so soul-crushingly taboo, that it was worthwhile to flee indoors at the slightest promise of darkening skies? Was simple water truly the bane of everypony in this town?
For the life of her, the poor mare could not understand how they treated rain like it was a plague from above. While some reacted more dramatically to it than others (a certain white unicorn did come to the pegasi's mind), not even the most tolerant could stay outside and seem to enjoy the rain for what it was. The rain, which was what gave its very name and image to the mare and her cutie mark, was never regarded as highly as it ought to be.
Raindrops knew this well. But, in the end, she didn't mind.
After all, she knew it was important. Almost everypony knew it was. Farmers relied on the rain. Rain was what kept all the plants hydrated and healthy. It ensured that rivers would continue to flow, and ponds would remain filled. Rain was part of a greater, all-important cycle. It cleaned, it purified… it brought life.
And for Raindrops, it was life. It was her life.
She finally reached the end of the main road of Ponyville, and turned onto a road leading to the park. As she passed by the trees, the light pittering and pattering of water drops on their leaves rang out across the air; composing a tuneless melody that Raindrops so loved to hear on days like these. With a pleased, content sigh, the mare lifted her head and closed her eyes, feeling the gently caress of the rain on her face and loving every second.
She felt purified. Calm. Empowered, even.
Raindrops soaked in the blissful feelings for what seemed like an eternity. Lost in a trance-like state of reminiscence, her mind was left to wander and traverse its own landscape. Memories, both vivid ones and faded ones alike, rose up from the depths. The days past, the days lost, the days loved… She could remember it all. It was a moment frozen in time, highlighting so many others that she longed for even today.
There were faces she could not put names to, and names she could not put faces to; all of them, buried in her mindscape. It was a sudden moment of clarity, and she almost felt that she could relive it all at once. One image in particular, of what looked to be an oddly-familiar mare, piqued her interest most of all. She was quite nearly able to recall her features, just as the image in her mind turned to look at her…
…But, the moment passed, and reality once more asserted itself onto her senses. Focus and clarity were gone, and the clearer images she started to envision all vanished—the object of her interest falling away with them. She frowned, turning her head downward again, and letting the precipitation drip down her mane onto the muddy ground. These short moments of clarity and bliss were comforting, in a way. But they always felt far too short-lived.
Letting out a tired sigh, Raindrops walked onwards, leaving the moment and memories behind her. She turned to look at a fairly large tree as she passed it by, recalling the many days she used to spend under it when she was a foal. Those were simpler times, she knew; times of innocence and ignorance. When she could be free, happy, and safe. But, that was not always so, of course.
She stopped for a moment, looking up at the tree. It had grown a bit bigger than it used to be, all those years ago, but it was without doubt the very same one. Raindrops recalled lying there in the shade on those hot summer days, often by her lonesome after school. None of the other foals would come around near the tree, but she never minded that. She preferred to be alone, as she felt it was more peaceful and quiet that way; less constricting, she reasoned.
On a day like today, of course, the tree had no purpose. There was no sun to be shaded from, with all the clouds blocking the way. And as Raindrops saw no point in being “protected” from the rain, the tree's secondary function as a makeshift umbrella was equally worthless. From a purely logical standpoint, she had no point nor purpose in remaining around it for any length of time.
Had she not noticed the crude carving in the bark, she would have passed it by entirely without further scrutiny.
But, as she did notice it, she gave pause. The mare walked closer to the tree and examined the carving, a faint sense of familiarity hanging around it. It appeared well-preserved, at the very least; a rough, carved-out message that seems that have remained on the tree bark for many years. Not quite as long as when she was still around the tree often, but long enough to show its age.
I lost my home
I found my home
One was not the other
Raindrops spent some time admiring it. The carving was certainly crude, to be sure – it looked as if it was done by a foal – but its intended message was quite clear. At least, it was to her, if nopony else. The fact that such a simple carving resonated so strongly with her memories intrigued her. She felt oddly compelled.
Whoever had carved that single message was apparently quite prolific, as there were a number of other writings around it, too. Phrases etched in the bark, all in a similarly-crude writing; “wash away the pain”, “tears from the sky”, “the losses and the gain”, “free without a chain”, among a few others.
Despite having no business being here, the mare decided to sit and rest beneath the tree, beside the carvings. Perhaps it was simply the deeper meaning of this site, or it could have been she was simply tired and needed a breather. She did not concern herself with the why.
It was so very long ago, but Raindrops could almost recall a time when she didn't even know what rain was. Yes, as hard it could have been believed, she once lived in ignorance of such a thing. She could hardly believe it herself. Her memories of before then were… spotty, at best. But seeing rain for the first time? She remembered that particular event quite vividly. Anything that had happened before or after that were muddy, in her mind's eye.
She looked up, still mostly able to see the cloudy sky above, and the torrent of precipitation that fell forth from it. The tree's canopy partly obscured the view above, and shielded her from most of the rain itself, but she tried not to mind that too much.
All of her life until now, she had been looking at the clouds from below. Raindrops preferred it that way, of course; she could be under the rain's coverage by being below any clouds, obviously. But years upon years ago, before she attended Ponyville's school (or even lived in Ponyville at all), she was always on top of the clouds, looking down at the earth below. Just a simple foal with such a narrow perspective of the world, and bidden by her fellow pegasi's insistence that she was better off remaining up there.
It was “safe”, they said. Too many dangers down on earth to risk it, they reasoned.
The thought almost made her want to laugh. Oh, how very wrong they were. It was almost ritualistic on how they made pegasi foals raised up in the clouds fear the ground so much; it was bad enough that foals were even doing it to scare each other, as well. It was like how earth ponies had often spread tales of the Headless Horse, to try and keep their own foals from wandering far.
Silly as it was, she did the understand the reasons why, of course. Sometimes it was better to try and prevent curious fillies and colts from taking a running dive off the edge of the clouds, and plummeting to the earth down below. That sort of image gave parents in Cloudsdale nightmares; the ones with foals that couldn't fly properly, at least. Most of them were perfectly capable of sustaining flight at certain ages, but there were always a few exceptional cases here and there…
It was actually somewhat funny, now that Raindrops recalled. She had found her own way to earth with a raincloud she had, at first, hopped onto with simple, foalish curiosity. It was late in the day, so there was nopony present to bear witness or stop her from doing so in the first place.
But as it had drifted away from Cloudsdale, a rogue among the many others that were being produced for various locations across Equestria, she soon realized that she was stranded. She wasn't exactly flightless, but she wasn't a very strong flier at the time, and certainly couldn't sustain long flights; by the time she knew she was stuck, she could not have gone back.
So, she simply waited, hoping the cloud was drifting somewhere safe. Or at least, to a place where she wouldn't be devoured by any of the “scary earth creatures”.
Eventually, however, the rogue cloud drifted its way over to Ponyville, right when it was in the middle of a rainstorm. Being the first time that she had seen rain in action up-close, and not fully understanding the workings of how clouds and rain were mostly pony-created, she was enthralled. Raindrops abandoned the “safety” of the cloud she had hitched a ride on, and set hoof on the muddy ground for the first time. With widened eyes and a look of wonder, she recalled gazing up at the darkened clouds at the water washed down her mane and face.
In that one moment, she had finally attained clarity and peace of mind. There was a beauty and mystery in that first rainfall she had witnessed; even after coming to understand it more clearly as an adult, it did nothing to clear away the feelings of whimsy and her wild imagination as she gazed upon the everyday shower. She didn't know when exactly she had gotten her cutie mark, as she spent what felt like forever roaming the wet and muddy streets, but she knew the “when” wasn't important. It was the how.
She never did go back to Cloudsdale, after that.
Life for her was somewhat… different, as well. Lacking a means to return to Cloudsdale on her own, nor with any real desire to do so anyway, she simply settled down in Ponyville. From then on until her adulthood was mostly a blur, it felt like. A nice old mare had taken her in for some time, she could recall, and there were some scattered snapshot memories of her school days, along with the time she got a job as a town weatherpony, but not much else came to mind. The rest, as they often say, is history.
But, there was also the mystery mare… Raindrops couldn't seem to focus on her image for very long. She knew that she was important, and felt as if there was some sort of attachment or other obligation between them, but what it was escaped her. She briefly had recalled enough details about the mare one time to try asking for information fitting her description, but her search ultimately turned up fruitless. The only mare that loosely matched her broken recollection was a low-ranking Wonderbolt that had gone missing on patrol many years ago, and was presumed dead. Bore no foals either, if the record was to be believed.
Raindrops once again tried to think and focus, but she gave up quickly; no matter what, she always felt the same thing about the images: betrayal, remorse, longing, and regret. These were not good feelings, obviously, but she didn't understand why she had them.
She would likely never know the answer.
With a drawn-out sigh, Raindrops leaned back against the tree, looking out over the field and the town she now called her home. The carving carried some truth, she realized; she had lost a home. And yet, on the same hoof, she had also found one. Not only that, but she had discovered her inspiration in life, and discovered her true talents—which proved quite handy in her weather job, to boot.
In a way, she owed that all to the rain, didn't she? Were it not for her impromptu transit, and first-time exposure to both ground and rainfall, she probably would not even be there. She didn't even know where she would be.
The rain was her life. And she was more than happy with that.
At long last, Raindrops looked up at the sky again, noticing that the pit pat of rainfall was becoming less and less frequent, and it was becoming lighter. Some of the clouds appeared to be lightening as well, with a few breaking up to expose patches of sky beyond them. She sighed, knowing that the day's rain was coming to a close. With as much as they got, they would be lucky if Ponyville got another decent soak in less than a week; priorities, and such.
Parts of her often considered leaving Ponyville to venture to other towns, where she could catch the scheduled rainfall as frequently as possible. But, she never followed-through on any of those thoughts. It simply wasn't feasible for a mare of her status. She wasn't built for speed or long-distance flight, and couldn't afford the required and constant usage of more conventional transit to these places anyhow.
But those weren't the only reasons she didn't want to leave.
Sunlight finally started poking through the clouds, and the sodden land shimmered as the glow of the sun started shining down upon it. The rain fell weaker and weaker, eventually downgraded to a mere drizzle. Even the darkest gray and blue clouds soon dispersed, and she saw a few pegasi already getting to work clearing out some of the hardier ones.
It was slow work, which made her assume that Rainbow Dash wasn't on-duty; she would have already cleared every cloud by now. Personally, she liked it when she wasn't spearheading the clean-up, if only because it meant that the remaining clouds would still have some chance to rain a little bit longer. But even she knew that all things had to come to an end, eventually.
By now, the promise of clear skies was already drawing ponies out of their homes. Raindrops saw a few roaming the streets in the distance, with several lingering around and already appearing to chat it up with their neighbors. The rain hadn't even fully stopped yet, but ponies were already eager to get outsides and see their friends…
She couldn't help but smile a bit. Maybe these ponies weren't the most appreciative of the rain, but if nothing else, they more than made up for it with their overall upbeat and friendly demeanor. No other place ever felt more welcoming than Ponyville did, to her.
“Hey! Rainy!”
The mare's ears perked up, briefly snapping her out of deeper thoughts. She turned towards the source, seeing three other ponies waving to her. Raindrops smiled and waved back; she knew these ponies, after all. Flitter, Cloudchaser, Blossomforth… Two of them she met while on the job, and the other she often saw and spoke with at the market. She'd go as far as to even say that they were good friends.
They were the other reason she never wanted to leave.
She was just about to stand up and walk over to greet them, but a sudden, almost jarring drop of wetness on her head stopped her.
Both surprised and slightly curious, Raindrops looked up at the leafy canopy above. All the leaves were as wet as the grass and mud of the ground, and now and then, a single drop would fall from a random leaf to the ground below. One of them just happened to fall directly on her head. As she gazed upward, another drop fell square on her forehead, and she blinked in surprise. It was after a few moments of drop after drop that she came to a realization.
The tree was holding on to the rain a little longer, for her.
Or at least, that was how her idealistic mind saw and decided to interpret it. But, perhaps trees weren't quite as worthless as she initially assumed them to be. She hadn't considered that the leaves, catching and holding the moisture, would continue to let the ghost of a rain fall well after the shower had ended. Perhaps the tree was far more important than she even comprehended at first; it held the memories of herself, of the one who carved those messages, and even served as a monument to the memories of rain itself.
She would definitely be visiting it again in the future, then.
With a sigh of bliss, Raindrops spent another moment relaxing under the canopy, letting the idle drops fall on her. The single droplets – the last tears from the sky – flowed down her smile. She had lost so much, gained so much more, and lived through every minute of it. And to think, there was still so much more waiting for her in the future…
But now, for the first time in as long as the mare could remember, she finally felt free.
“Rain, come wash away the pain
My face is wet and I don't mind
I'm feeling strong again…”
