Obsolution

Chapters

1: The Night in Lonesome October
2: The Misty Mid-Region
3: The Most Immemorial Year
4: The Withering Leaves
5: The Ghoul-Haunted Woodland
6: The Ashen and Sober Sky
7: The Dark Tarn
8: The Boreal Pole
9: The Alley Titanic
10: The Volcanic Heart
11: The Sulphurous Current
12: The Ultimate Clime
13: The Star-Dials
14: The Nebulous Lustre
15: The Duplicate Horn
16: The Liquescent Path
17: The Miraculous Crescent
18: The Planetary Souls

1: The Night in Lonesome October

...I know this news may be hard to swallow, but you must keep in mind that this was not a decision, but simply a fact. This change in duties in no way reflects how I feel about you or your adequacy. You have all made many great sacrifices for Equestria, and you will be immortalized in the hearts of every pony for that...

To say that Applejack was uncomfortable with her self image would definitely be an overstatement. That was one of the main reasons she usually clashed with Rarity: the farmpony generally just didn’t care about her appearance.

But when each hoofstep echoes back to you a million times louder than you’re used to, and any direction you glance shows a distorted image of your face, with the splattering of freckles you never liked, and your perpetually-messy mane, self-confidence is... tricky.

Even the floor was reflective enough to make Applejack uncomfortable, so she affixed her gaze decidedly ahead and marched onwards.

I’ll get used to it.

Her peripheral vision spotted hundreds of Applejacks, walking in perfect time, their hooves thunderous.

I’ll have to. We’ll be spending a lot of time here.

The castle was beautiful. And it did provide a meeting place better than what was basically Twilight’s living room. But it certainly was intimidating. And strangely designed, to have this never-ending hallway right at the front, forcing a mare to ponder her fate and herself as she marched dutifully onward...

Finally, the hallway ended. Applejack pushed open the door slowly (like everything in this castle, it was ridiculously heavy) to see twelve eyes immediately turn to look at her. Twelve eyes filled with all the same feelings she had.

Twilight rushed over to her, Spike following dutifully behind, his grip on the scroll in his hand seemingly viselike.

“Thank Celestia you’re here. We’ve all been waiting.”

“I noticed. I’m sorry I’m late.”

Twilight attempted a small smile and walked Applejack forward.

As Applejack sat down in her throne (the idea of which she was still getting used to), she glanced around at the other Elements.

Something was definitely up. Another understatement, but notable nonetheless.

Well, she’d gathered that from the urgent message calling her to the castle, and she was used to Twilight freaking out over anything and everything. But Dash was already hovering in the air. And Fluttershy was desperately trying to hide behind her mane. And Rarity was picking at the seams of her dress. And Pinkie was actually silent.

It has to be a serious threat to Equestria again. That’s why we’re here. It’s our jobs, after all.

Twilight looked around, took a deep, audible breath (well, anything was audible in this room), and nodded to Spike.

He opened up the aforementioned scroll carefully and cleared his throat.

Later, upon reflection, everypony in the room would find this moment definitive.

“So... that’s it then? We’re done?”

Rainbow Dash slowly lowered herself back down into her throne.

Twilight nodded, her eyes glued to the floor, choosing to ignore the slight air of condescension behind Rainbow’s words.

“Even if we’re unhappy, we can’t change anything about this. The tree of harmony has... replaced our function, and that’s a fact.”

Her voice was flat and just as hopeless as each mare felt.

Mostly unnoticed, Spike left, not sure quite how to handle the situation he had just thrust upon the mares.

And then there was silence again. The six elements (could they still be considered elements?) sat quietly, attempting to digest what they had just been read.

Pinkie’s mane was slowly, almost imperceptibly deflating.

“What now?” Fluttershy whispered, though the sound was more than adequately amplified by the room.

Twilight’s eyes suddenly became less glazed as she snapped into the perky princess persona the others had learned to tolerate.

She smiled.

“We do whatever we want, of course. Celestia said this doesn’t have to be a bad thing, and it won’t if we make the best of it. We’ll be... less stressed, and have more free time and everything! Like... Dash! You can finally join the Wonderbolts, right?”

Dash’s eyes lit up, at least slightly, reassuring Twilight, who smiled brighter.

“Come on... we won’t stop being friends without an official purpose. There will always be magic behind our friendship. Right? We’ll still keep in touch. We’ll still have our letters. Right?”

Everypony nodded. Then silently, they unanimously decided to go their separate ways and slowly filed out, the door finally closing with a heavy thud.

As the five ponies made their way down that infinitely long hallway, ten eyes were multiplied to thousands in the walls, none making eye contact.

Twenty hooves rhythmically boomed against the floor, the only sound to break the silence.

Still in the throne room, Twilight choked back tears she didn’t understand.

That night, Twilight dreamt she was standing at the base of the Tree of Harmony. She took a deep breath and began to cast a spell. The luminescent colours around her slowly grew more and more intense, threatening to break her concentration, until finally she could look no longer lest it burn, and closed her eyes. When she opened them, all she could see was the pale moonlight illuminating her bedroom.

In her fluffy cloud bed, Rainbow Dash was falling. Her wings were fighting as hard as they could but she had no control over them, not that she wanted it. No, she almost felt tranquil and at peace as the pillars of Cloudsdale moved further and further away, her eyes tearing up from the air rushing past. As usual, she was awake before the impact.

Rarity tossed and turned all night, slipping in and out of pure lavishness, complete with champagne fountains perfect platters stacked high with truffles. Yet any time she reached for one, millions of eyes would immediately be on her, their judgement seeping into her muscles and freezing them. And every time she awoke, she prayed for a different dream. Of course, it was always exactly the same.

In her dream, Fluttershy wandered through the Everfree forest. She knew she was there seeking something, but she couldn’t place what that was. Nonetheless, she continued onwards, the faint moonlight assisting her in her journey. Her mind began to wander, letting her hooves take her through. Until she looked up and realized she had no idea where she was. The usually comforting sounds of the forest steadily grew louder until Fluttershy's screams woke her up.

Applejack's dream took her to her childhood, specifically the day she returned home after getting her cutie mark. She was surrounded by her loved ones, and everything was the kind of perfect that can only exist in dreams. But Applejack didn't realize this. She was happy again. At least until the ponies opened their mouths to speak and the blood came pouring out. And then it was all over.

Meanwhile, Pinkie Pie had always been awake.

2: The Misty Mid-Region

...by moving here, I will better be able to perform my duties as Princess, as well as assist in daily organizational governmental operations, such as coordinating diplomatic relationships and examining public works proposals. I’ll take questions in just a moment, but first, here are my goals, as Princess, for the next quarter...

Princess Twilight Sparkle was tired.

She would’ve slept the previous night, but she hadn’t been able to sleep a full night since she’d gotten the letter. And she would’ve slept on the train, but she had to draft a letter describing the explicit duties of her castle’s caretaker while she was gone. And she would be sleeping currently, but she had to unpack. And then she had duties to attend to, didn’t she?

“Well, at least I’m out of Ponyville, right, Spike? Wait, that sounded awful. I meant... at least I’m in Canterlot, where I can better perform my duties as Princess. Wait, that was good, I should put it in my speech. Write that down, Spike.”

Spike looked at Twilight, then to the large cardboard box he was carrying, then to the end of the very long hallway they were walking down, then back to Twilight.

“I can’t.”

“Well, why can’t...”

Twilight looked at Spike, then to the large cardboard box he was carrying, then to the end of the very long hallway they were walking down, then back to Spike.

“Oh.”

She fell silent again.

Finally, the two reached the hallway’s end. Twilight double-checked the room’s number before slowly opening the door.

She’d stayed in this room every single time she visited the castle, but her eyes now found it strangely impersonal. Except, of course, how purple it was. It had always been a very purple room.

Twilight instructed Spike to start unpacking as she made her way over to the overly-plush bed, where a folded piece of paper had been placed on the pillow.

She gingerly opened it.

Twilight-

Welcome!

Once you’re all settled, please send for one of the guards, who will introduce you to your staff and give you your schedule. After that, I would like you to come discuss various items of business with me.

I’m sure you will have a wonderful experience here.

-Celestia

She was re-reading it when a clattering noise on the other side of the room startled her. She whirled around to see Spike, looking incredibly guilty, standing over a shattered picture frame.

He began to stammer out an apology.

“Spike, can you please go get a guard for me?”

Her voice was oddly calm.

“You know you can just ring-”

“Spike. Guard. Now.”

He quickly apologized and booked it out of the room. Twilight walked over to the picture, which had fallen face-down, and disposed of the scattered shards of glass. She picked up the frame and turned it over to see the faces of six mares and one dragon smiling, nearly beaming up at her.

She took a shaky breath and placed the broken frame on the nearest flat surface.

I can get a new one. It was an accident. It’ll be alright, Twilight. It will.

Twilight knocked softly on Celestia’s door, though it was slightly ajar.

“Come in, Twilight.”

“How’d you know it was me?” Twilight said as she sat down across from Celestia.

She hadn’t been in this office in a while. Celestia seldom used it, and even more rarely let visitors in. Her eyes scanned the details she hadn’t really taken in since she was a filly: the large oak desk, the paintings of past rulers on the walls, the insignia-stamped ink pot.

“You’re the only one I’d expect to come in.” Celestia said with a smile. “So how have you been settling in? I’m so sorry your full quarters weren’t ready for you quite yet. Short notice and all.”

“It’s fine, Princess.”

They made small talk like this for a while. Celestia went over Twilight’s schedule and some finer details about being an on-call princess. It was perfectly pleasant. But Celestia, knowing Twilight better than probably her own family, could sense that something was not entirely whole within her favorite student.

“I hope you’ll adjust well to living here, Twilight.”

“Well, it’s where I can most benefit the citizens of Equestria.”

“Spoken like a true diplomat.”

Twilight took that as signaling the end of the meeting and got up to leave.

“Get some sleep, Twilight. You’ll need it.” Celestia mentioned quietly as her student walked out.

That’s for sure.

Spike had finished unpacking by the time Twilight came back from her meeting.

As she walked in, he proudly presented his hard work to her.

Her extensive book collection lined the walls, her various stuffed animals were arranged nicely on the bed, her schedule was laid neatly on the desk, with a brand new picture frame next to it.

She paused in the doorway. He smiled at her.

“We’re just going to have to take it all down and move it in a few days.”

Her voice felt mechanical to him. Cold.

He visibly deflated, but she didn’t seem to notice.

It was nearly silent for a few moments as she wandered around the room, as if inspecting it.

“You can go, Spike.”

She didn’t make eye contact with him. This mood Twilight seemed to be in wasn’t particularly odd for her, as when she felt nervous or was just really focused she often... disconnected. However, for some reason, he felt like he should stay.

Instead, he lingered in the doorway for a few moments, just watching her, before ultimately following her orders.

Of course, Twilight didn’t notice this entire process. By the time he had closed the door behind him, she had already flopped onto the bed, trying to block out the emotional thoughts creeping onto her periphery.

But finally, she allowed herself to sleep.

When she woke, the room glowed from the moonlight let in by her gauzy purple curtains.

She cursed herself for waking up in the middle of the night, though she hadn’t been dreaming, and hopped out of bed in search of a glass of water or something.

Instead, she found her hooves carrying her to Luna’s door.

She knocked, but when there was no answer, she simply let herself in, although later she’d realize how uncharacteristically rude it must have been.

Inside, she found Luna at her telescope, bathed in blue moonlight.

“When I was a filly, I thought I’d be an astronomer.” Twilight said to perhaps Luna, perhaps nopony at all. “Even after I got my cutie mark and it wasn’t a telescope or anything- I mean, it could’ve been a star, y’know? I think, that if I hadn’t been an Element, I’d be in an observatory right now.”

There were a few moments of silence before Luna turned, smiling slightly at Twilight.

“You still can be, you know.”

She motioned Twilight over.

“I get what you’re saying, Princess, but I have other obligations now. To Equestria. I can’t sit up all night and look at the stars. I have work to do.”

Luna shrugged.

“I do it.”

She swung the telescope closer to Twilight so she could look into it, which she happily did. She hadn’t used a telescope much since she was a filly, and would spend sleepless nights such as this one staring up at the moon.

She thought of mentioning this to Luna, but decided it would be insensitive.

“I’m assuming you couldn’t sleep, Twilight?”

She nodded.

Luna didn’t reply, but made no move to take the telescope back.

They sat like this for some time.

Finally, Twilight pulled away and stood up.

“I should get back to bed. Thank you, though.”

Luna nodded.

“Would you like help sleeping?”

“I’ll be okay.”

She thought about thanking her again, but stayed silent as she walked back to her room, and fell back into a deep, dreamless sleep.

3: The Most Immemorial Year

... in conclusion, we think you would make a great addition to the team. In fact, we’ve thought that for a while now, and it makes us unbelievably happy to be able to welcome you to the Wonderbolts. Of course, training will begin promptly...

Her entire life, Rainbow Dash had wanted nothing more than the piece of paper that was currently in her hooves.

And this was no training camp, no invitation to audition, nope. It was 100% genuine offer to become a real live Wonderbolt.

All she had ever dreamed of.

And she could finally say yes, thanks to that magical tree.

Of course, it would mean moving away from her friends, but Twilight had already run off to Canterlot with no qualms, so it’s not like she could feel guilty about that.

But there was a lot she had to do. Like pack, of course.

What do I even bring to be a Wonderbolt?

She was halfway through rereading the letter when she realized something else she had to do. Tell her friends.

For a moment, Rainbow considered hastily writing a note, pinning it to her door, and flying off into the sunset. But she knew she couldn’t do that.

Okay, so I’ll need my Daring Doo books. Well, assuming I’ll have time to read. I’ll have time to read, right? Wow, is this letter vague...

Of course, she was well aware that she was simply skirting the real issue.

She stopped reading and took a deep breath.

Please come to Canterlot in order to begin training as soon as possible.

That’s what the letter said, printed in ink and everything, which only could mean one thing. Not allowing herself to procrastinate any further, she unfolded her wings and took off.

“So... they want me on the team!”

Fluttershy’s blue eyes were focused on the ground at Rainbow’s hooves.

“Oh.”

“Isn’t... isn’t that great, Fluttershy?”

Rainbow’s tone had significantly decreased in emotion as she attempted to find what emotion Fluttershy was trying so desperately to hide.

“Um... yeah.”

Rainbow paused as she thought of what would be best to say. Which is not something she did often, but something told her there was more to this.

“Fluttershy... do you want me to come inside?”

She nodded, still sans eye contact.

Rainbow let her friend walk in first, and closed the door behind them.

“Do you want any tea, Rainbow?”

“I’m actually okay.”

They were silent for a few slightly tense moments.

“Do you wanna... talk about it?”

Fluttershy nodded.

But she didn’t speak.

So Rainbow Dash waited.

“It’s just...”

She took a deep breath, shaky and almost teary as it was.

“...well, Twilight’s already left, and Rarity says she’s gotten this big commission she’ll have to go out to Manehatten for, and of course she’s not going to be here as much, and busy, and I haven’t even seen anypony or we haven’t talked since that letter came, and now you’re leaving us, and I mean, I don’t want to stop you because I know how much you’ve- how long you’ve been dreaming of this, Rainbow, and I... I just don’t want to be alone.”

Fluttershy immediately looked to the ground to keep from fully crying.

“That’s... that is the most you’ve said to me in years.”

They smiled at each other.

“I’m not going to be gone. Don’t think of it that way. You’re- you all are too important for me just to fly out on. I mean, I wouldn’t have even gotten the stupid offer if it wasn’t for you. You’ve helped me practice so much over the years, and been my biggest fan-”

“I’m not that good at cheering.”

“You’re great at it, Fluttershy.”

“You really think that?”

“The best. Which means that you have to come to as many of my meets as you can and cheer me on, okay?”

“I promise.”

Rainbow smiled again and gave Fluttershy a hug.

And she really, genuinely, truly meant it.

For the first time since Rainbow could remember, the Carousel Boutique was locked.

So, for the first time since Rainbow could remember, she rang the doorbell.

The door opened a crack, and a green eye peeked out. Once observing Rainbow, Sweetie Belle opened the door slightly more.

Confused, Rainbow furrowed her brow.

“Can I help you?”

“Um, yeah. I’m here to see Rarity?”

Sweetie paused.

“I’m- I’m sorry, but she’s busy right now.”

“Well, I kinda really need to see her.”

“She’d be upset if we had to interrupt her.”

“Look, Sweetie, I have to leave for Canterlot in like, a day, so I just wanted to say goodbye.”

Sweetie took a deep breath and swung the door open wider.

“Enter at your own risk.”

Rainbow thanked her and hurried up the stairs to Rarity’s studio and knocked on the door.

Nothing.

She tried the door, but it was predictably locked. So she knocked harder.

“Rarity? It’s me, Rainbow Dash. I need to talk to you. It’s important.”

She held her breath, waiting, until the door forcefully swung open.

Rarity, her mane a mess and her eyes red, glared at her.

“What do you want?”

“I’m leaving soon. They want me on the Wonderbolts.”

“Congratulations. Can I get back to work now?”

Rainbow was immediately silenced.

“Y-yeah, sure.”

Rarity nearly slammed the door in her face, and Rainbow, still in shock, walked back downstairs.

Sweetie met her there, empathy in her eyes.

“How’d it go?” She asked cautiously.

“Not well.” Rainbow deadpanned.

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, so am I.”

The next stop was Sugarcube Corner, but she was informed by Mrs. Cake that Pinkie wasn’t there.

“Oh. Well, say goodbye for me to Pinkie, alright?”

Mrs. Cake nodded, and Rainbow took off toward Sweet Apple Acres.

And as usual, Applejack was out working in the orchard. She waved a hoof to Rainbow as she landed.

“Hey so guess what?”

“What is it?”

“I got into the Wonderbolts!”

“That’s great!”

She paused as her broad smile slowly dissipated.

“That means you’re leaving, don’t it?”

Rainbow nodded.

“As soon as possible. I just have to say goodbye to everypony, y’know.”

Not knowing what came next, Rainbow basked in her umpteenth awkward silence of the day.

“You’ll keep in touch, though? Right?”

“Of course. As much as we’ve fought... you’re still one of my closest friends.” She paused. “Sweet Celestia, was that sappy.”

Applejack chuckled.

“Let’s end on a positive note, then.”

“Yeah, you’re right. So goodbye, Applejack.”

“Goodbye, Rainbow Dash.”

She’d only decided to take one Daring Doo book.

If I have more free time, I can always buy more. Since I’ll actually be getting paid for my work for once.

Hopefully they won’t miss me too much. But they all have their own lives

I’ll write everypony as soon as I get there. And I can visitTwilight, since she’s in Canterlot too. And it’s not like I’ll be gone forever.

I can always fly back home.

4: The Withering Leaves

...all in all, I’d have to say that my inspiration for this line comes from the dedication that citizens of Equestria have to their craft. I can walk through the streets of Ponyville and this dude i know first hand how hard these ponies work, and how much they love it. And of course, being based in Ponyville, I am so especially grateful for this wonderful opportunity...

Just a few more stitches, maybe some additional sequins, and Rarity would be done.

Of course, if it looked good enough. Which was doubtful, considering she’d been ‘almost finished’ for weeks now. And Sweetie Belle had been standing in the doorway to her sister’s workshop for what felt like hours now. She felt the urge to remind Rarity that they had a train to catch soon, but she had a feeling that she was well aware of that fact.

Not to mention the fact that Rarity had barely even acknowledged Sweetie’s presence since... since she went to that meeting at Twilight’s last week.

Not to mention how she treated Rainbow when she came to say goodbye. Not that it was said.

“Rarity.”

She didn’t answer.

“Rarity.”

She still didn’t answer. But she turned and glared at her sister.

“We have a train to catch.”

She turned back to her frantic work.

“I have a train to catch.”

“What?”

“You’re not going to Manehatten.”

“Why?”

“I only got one ticket.”

It isn’t fair.

Normally, Sweetie would’ve fought back. Or at least gotten angry. But it had been a long week. A long week of screaming, and slamming doors, and... almost apathy from her sister.

So she walked away, quietly locked the door to her bedroom, and started to cry.

It isn’t fair.

It wasn’t like she’d always been like this. Definitely not. As much as they disagreed sometimes, Rarity was a really good sister. Yeah, she always got a little snippy when stressed out, but who doesn’t?

Sweetie Belle was overwhelmed.

She didn’t know what was happening to her sister, but more importantly, she didn’t know why it was happening. Rarity hadn’t told her what Twilight had said at that meeting, but suddenly all of Rarity’s friends were leaving Ponyville...

“Sweetie!” Rarity screeched from the other side of the door.

Sweetie hastily wiped the remaining tears from her face and ran back to Rarity’s studio.

“What is it?”

I am so, so incredibly sorry, Sweetie, for being so rude to you this past week. I’ve been so stressed that I’d forgotten what really matters: my friends and family. I love you so much and I am so grateful that you have tolerated me thus far. And to make it up to you, I was able to get another ticket, and we can both go to Manehatten, together.

“I need you to carry some stuff downstairs.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Sweetie Belle complied and followed Rarity downstairs and outside, to where a coach was waiting for her. She loaded everything onto it.

Rarity climbed into her seat and looked down at her sister.

And for a moment, one glittering moment of hope, Sweetie Belle saw something in Rarity’s eyes that she hadn’t seen in far too long. But it vanished all too quickly.

“Goodbye, Sweetie Belle.”

“Goodbye, Rarity.”

Cordial.

Standing at the train station, waiting for her train to arrive with her cushy private cat at the end, Rarity was staring at her work.

She was unhappy with it. Of course, she was unhappy with it.

But it was too late. She needed to stop. Well, she could make some adjustments before the show...

No. I’m finished. It’s fine. It has to be.

She took a deep breath, the first one in weeks.

And she thought of Sweetie Belle, for the first time in weeks.

I’m a bitch, aren’t I?

She wanted to cry. She desperately wanted cry, to finally release control of her emotions, curled up inside her for too long.

But she couldn’t. There were dozens of other ponies on the platform that would judge her, for one.

She straightened out one of the dresses on the rack, fidgeting with herself.

It wasn’t perfect.

Nothing she’d done had been perfect since she lost her Element, and now she was jetting off to Manehatten with a collection she felt awful about.

It was the opportunity of a lifetime, which she was absolutely incredibly grateful for. Yes, it had cost some part of her sanity, but there can’t be beauty without a little pain, right?

Rarity was overwhelmed.

She’d been training, hoping for her life to go in this direction, and now the train was slowly pulling into the station, ready to whisk her off to a brand new life.

As she stepped on the train, ticket in hoof, she didn’t regret the fact that Sweetie Belle wasn’t by her side. But she was conscious of it.

Once the train started its slow acceleration down the tracks, Rarity crossed to where her precious pieces were safely hanging.

And in that moment, all she wanted was to destroy them.

She hadn’t ever been that good at magic, not like Twilight was, because she didn’t need to be. But Rarity knew enough spells to destroy every single one of her dresses and hats and scarves, so all the stress and hard work, and fractured relationships would be for naught.

And she wanted to. Sweet Celestia, did she want to.

Almost afraid of her own power, she took a step backwards and closed her eyes.

No.

She forced herself to sit back down in her seat.

Her eyes were sealed shut all the way to Manehatten.

Rarity looked over tomorrow’s schedule, neatly printed on cardstock, one more time.

It had already been carefully laid on the gorgeously extravagant bed in her hotel room when she entered, and now that she had unpacked all her outfits, she could really take it in.

It looked like she was going to be incredibly busy tomorrow.

But I can handle it, can’t I?

She needed to sleep.

If she’d been in a good enough mental state to calculate how much sleep she’d gotten in the past week, she wouldn’t’ve had to to count too high.

But that collar on the forest green piece was too bold of a colour choice, wasn’t it?

And the asymmetry in the gold sequin pattern was looking a little too symmetrical.

And that December outfit really could use a hat.

And Rarity needed to sleep.

5: The Ghoul-Haunted Woodland

...Angel’s list of foods he finds acceptable are located on the fridge. It’s a narrow list. I know he can be temperamental, but he’s not that bad, I promise. Thank you so much again, by the way. I promise I won’t be gone long. Now, feeding times are generally...

All Fluttershy ever needed to be happy was a day like this one.

The sunlight was streaming through the trees’ leaves just enough to adequately light her path, and the still-dewy grass felt amazingly soft underneath her hooves. She could hear birds chirping, and bees buzzing, and water gushing, and all the lovely sounds of the forest.

And so she focused on this, to keep her distracted from the task at hoof.

She’d walked this path, every path through the Evergreen woods, really, hundreds of times. So she didn’t exactly have to be paying attention to where she was going the whole time.

She could let her mind wander as her hooves did.

Which it desperately needed.

Fluttershy had her own thoughts to be alone with quite often, as she lived a rather quiet, solitary life, and she enjoyed having her time to be able to think out her situation and surroundings.

It was quiet.

She was quiet.

But it wasn’t.

And she wasn’t.

The nights were getting longer and the air was getting cooler with each passing day. Soon Fluttershy would no longer be able to walk through the woods, at least not as often and not for as long. Soon she’d have to be cooped up in her tiny cottage with all the animals who didn’t hibernate until the world thawed out.

The forest would be frozen longer than the rest of Equestria would, since the pegasi couldn’t control the weather there.

So she’d wait.

Which is why this particular walk in the forest was important. It was almost November, so snow could come any day, and then she wouldn’t be able to get where she was currently headed and do what she needed to do.

And think. That too.

Her mind had been avoiding the subject it most needed to think about, in fact. Mostly because she didn’t entirely enjoy getting particularly philosophical with herself.

She slowed her thoughts in order to procrastinate her way to her destination.

And it worked.

Before she even knew it, her hooves had carried her all the way to a lone hut, and the sun was slipping below the mountains softly.

In a deliberate manner, Fluttershy breathed.

The door always creaked slightly when it was opened, not that Zecora needed the hint that somepony had arrived.

“Good evening to you, my Fluttershy. Pray tell, what’s caused you to stop by?”

She did not look up from her bubbling cauldron.

“I... I just needed to pick up some things.”

She stepped fully into the hut, albeit cautiously.

“I will be able to help you indeed, if you may tell me what you need.”

Zecora turned around to face her visitor. Her eyes scanned the pegasus, her head cocked slightly to the side, her eyes slightly squinted.

“There is a reason you inquire, besides the potions you desire.”

Fluttershy desperately wanted to deny that, but she knew lying to Zecora would be hopeless, especially since she wasn’t even particularly good at lying in the first place.

“Yeah, I guess.”

Zecora motioned for Fluttershy to take a seat, and began preparing her guest a cup of tea.

“Please trust and share your burdens with me.” Fluttershy was silent, though. “Do you take sugar in your tea?”

“Oh, yes. One, please.”

Zecora nodded and once again waited for Fluttershy to start.

“I... I guess there’s just a lot to tell.”

She brought over the tea and sat down. Fluttershy took a small sip of her tea and decided that it would be wise to wait for it to cool down.

But she didn’t want to continue. So she changed the subject.

“About those potions I need...”

She reached into her saddlebag and took out a list, which she passed to Zecora. The zebra read it over a few times, then gave Fluttershy a slight look. Fluttershy nodded, and Zecora rose to gather everything.

“I’m sure I can deliver what you ask, but gathering all this will be no easy task.”

Fluttershy took a tentative taste of her tea. Still too hot.

“I know. I did some research at the new library, and I... I’m prepared to help you.”

“I appreciate that you have given this some thought, for there are several ingredients here that cannot just be bought. What most concerns me, for your sake, is how much time this may take.”

“I made arrangements to have the animals looked after. I know this will take time. But getting everything on this list is important to me.”

Zecora nodded.

For a few minutes, Fluttershy was silent as she watched Zecora begin her work.

But she knew that she couldn’t sustain that for long. She could feel the tension slowly creeping into the room’s near-silence.

“I don’t know what to do about the whole element thing.” She blurted out.

Zecora nodded at her to continue.

“It’s just... Twilight and Dash and Rarity have already left, and it seems like everything’s falling apart. I liked things the way they were, even if they were really scary at times. I don’t like how unknown everything is. I don’t even know what’s going on, really. I just... I just want my stability back.”

“A catharsis like that must be nothing but true...” Zecora trailed off as she gathered her thoughts. “So, just as you are helping me, I promise to help you.”

Fluttershy smiled, though inside she still felt uneasy.

The tea had gone cold.

Three days later, the air had gotten chillier and the sky was a bit more overcast, but the forest was still the forest.

And, walking back home, her saddlebags a bit heavier, that made it a haven for Fluttershy.

Maybe it was a little quieter, maybe some more leaves were gone from the trees, but overall, nothing had changed.

Stability.

She made a mental note to send Zecora a physical thank-you note when she was safely home.

Well, after she made sure all her animals were alright.

A gust of wind ripped through the trees and Fluttershy cringed into the scarf Zecora had lent her.

It was cold, and the lack of the usually ambience of the forest animals certainly was alienating.

But she was almost back home.

6: The Ashen and Sober Sky

In your letter, you didn’t really mention any kind of protocol about this. That’s the only reason why I’m writing to ask. I don’t even know if I’ll write anything in the future, but I just want the option. We’re still going to be learning things about friendship, aren’t we?

That night when the former Elements of Harmony gathered in Twilight’s castle to find out about their fate, Twilight had tried her hardest to come up with positive spins for everypony. All she wanted to was comfort them. But when she came to Applejack, her mind drew a blank.

It was just that she never had any big ambitions outside of having the farm do well.

Applejack didn’t mind, though. She enjoyed her routine, and having more stability was never a bad thing in her mind. And besides, she’d be able to spend more time with her family, and maybe even eventually settle down.

Big Macintosh worked too much, and Applebloom was all alone with Granny Smith too many days, and so it seemed like the whole family could benefit from AJ not constantly under the threat of destructive monsters- pony or otherwise.

She didn’t need to jet off to Canterlot or Manehatten or wherever to be happy. Ponyville had always suited her.

But it was a little lonelier here with three of her closest friends gone. Well, four if you count Fluttershy, who’d been holed up in her cottage. But it was five, really, because nopony had seen Pinkie Pie in weeks, now...

So that left just Applejack.

Applejack and Sweet Apple Acres.

And just like everypony else, she had what she wanted now.

Things could improve. Maybe in little ways, sure, but baby steps are still steps.

She smiled to herself, realizing that all she wanted was peace again. And now she had it.

So why did she feel so empty inside?

“Applebloom, stop bouncing all over the place. You’re gonna spill something.”

“I can’t help it! I’m just so excited.”

Applejack looked at her sister quizzically.

“Applebloom, it’s November. What is there to be so excited about?”

“That’s the point. It’s November. This is the last of our apples.”

“Yeah, so we had an earlier season this year. Now tell me why that’s a good thing.”

“That means no more work until spring!”

A cool breeze ruffled the branches of the trees overhead and Applejack shivered.

“Oh.”

They trotted along in silence for a few moments, their pace quicker than usual to make up for the chill in the air.

“I don’t know why you hate November so much.” Applebloom said quietly.

“Don’t be silly.” She said gently to the foal. She considered continuing, but the town square was coming up over the horizon.

“I just think it’s nice to have a break, is all.” Applebloom stated as they headed to the back of the market. “No more waking up before the sunrise, no more days spent bucking apples, y’know.”

The market was quiet, save for the wary sound of a weary pony setting up shop. It wouldn’t be warm enough to have the market outside for very much longer, and everypony’s stock was waning anyway. But there was a push to get enough to survive all winter.

“Alright, Applebloom, now we need every last bit these apples are gonna get us.” Applejack said as she began setting up. “So please behave.”

“I promise I will.”

“Good. Now stack those galas all pretty.”

Applebloom complied. The two sisters worked in silence for a while.

The wind blew through again, ruffling stalls and causing everypony to shiver.

“You might need to be wearing your scarf next week, sis.”

“I don’t have one.”

Applejack looked at her sister with surprise, prompting Applebloom to quickly explain that she’d lost the one she’d worn all last winter.

“Oh. Well maybe Rarity’ll make you a new one.”

Applebloom stared at the ground.

“I doubt it. She’s in Manehatten, remember?”

Applejack, oblivious to the emotion in her sister’s voice, smiled slightly.

“Oh right. It’s just you and Scootaloo these days then, isn’t it?”

Applebloom looked up suddenly and shook her head, her oversized bow flopping around.

Applejack furrowed her brow.

“Sweetie’s still here.”

“You mean-”

“She didn’t go with Rarity.”

Applejack was taken aback.

How could she leave her sister behind like that?

She quickly moved to the other side of the stall and wrapped her little sister in a tight hug.

“I love you so much.” She whispered.

Applebloom was thoroughly confused.

“I... love you too.”

Nevertheless, she answered.

That night, as the temperature dropped, four ponies sat around the dinner table, a fire blazing in the corner.

Outside, the wind howled, but nopony noticed it.

Applejack set the last of the food down and took her place at the table.

“Well, dig in.” She announced, and everypony complied, helping themselves to the comfort food.

As they began to eat, Applejack turned to her left to stare sympathetically at the filly next to her.

Sweetie Belle looked up.

“Thanks.” She said quietly, and Applejack smiled.

“I wrote to Rarity already. Hopefully she’ll understand how delusional she’d been, and-”

Sweetie Belle cringed.

“It’s fine. You didn’t need to do that.”

Applejack decided not to answer, letting the tension settle over the table.

“So Applejack.” Applebloom said brightly. “Does the whole element thing mean that you can lie now?” She shoved another spoonful of mashed potatoes into her mouth.

Applejack rolled her eyes.

“I don’t know how many times I’m gonna have to explain this ‘whole element thing’ to you, Applebloom. You know darn well that I’m not honest ‘cause of any magic necklace, but because it’s in my nature.”

“So?” Applebloom asked, muffled slightly by her full mouth.

“So... I have never told a lie in my entire life, save for what Discord did, and I don’t plan to start anytime soon.” She paused. “Also, don’t talk while you’re chewing, Applebloom. We have guests.”

“It’s just Sweetie Belle.”

Applejack glared at her sister until she turned to Sweetie and apologized.

“Anypony else have anything they’d like to talk about?” Applejack muttered under her breath.

For a few agonizing minutes, the fire crackling and the sounds of chewing were the only things breaking the silence.

“Anypony want to hear a story?” Granny Smith asked loudly, the first time she’d spoken since dinner started.

Perfect.

That night, wrapped in multiple blankets to keep out the autumn chill, Applejack was restless.

There was a lot that still needed to get done for the farm.

And she should probably write to Rarity again.

What a bitch.

Her own inner monologue surprised her. She normally wouldn’t have used language like that, especially toward one of her closest friends.

But she was tired.

And stressed.

And emotional.

So who could blame her, really?

She didn’t need to think about the future. Things would stay constant. She could count on that. She’d always have the farm and her family and apples and Ponyville.

Everything is going to be perfectly okay.

She reassured herself of this countless times, until all meaning in the words dissolved.

Objectively, she was perfectly fine.

So why couldn’t she sleep?

7: The Dark Tarn

...and just as nothing could be done to prevent the demise of our utility as elements, nothing could be done to prevent mine. I am sorry, oh so very sorry, that I was no longer able to be what you all wanted me to be...

It’s not exactly easy to procure poison in Ponyville.

Maybe if you’re somewhere larger: Manehatten, Canterlot, where there are shadier ponies you can go to, but in Ponyville, everything’s supposed to be perfectly idyllic.

So there’s no need for poison.

But if you need some, for whatever reason, here’s what you do:

Go to the library.

Check out a book on herbology.

Tell the librarian you need it for testing out some new possible flavor combinations.

Bring it home.

Lock your bedroom door.

Search through the book until you find a plant that is beneficial in low doses, but toxic in high ones.

Go to your friend’s house.

Ask her to ask the local witch doctor to make you a potion from this plant.

Tell her your sister said it would help you focus.

Write the name of the plant down.

Go home.

Lock your bedroom door.

Wait for three days.

Go back to your friend’s house.

Take the potion.

Thank her.

Bring it home.

Lock your bedroom door.

Put the poison on your nightstand.

Get some paper, a quill, and ink.

Wait.

Pinkie Pie couldn’t remember the last time she’d been outside.

It had been a while, hadn’t it?

Time flies when you’re miserable, doesn’t it?

No. Not miserable. Miserable wasn’t a good word. Miserable implies that she still had the capacity to feel emotion. And she knew she was far beyond that.

She crossed over to the mirror which hung on the back of the door that had remained firmly locked for who knows how long.

She stared at her reflection.

This figure before her certainly wasn’t Pinkie Pie. It couldn’t be. Pinkie Pie’s mane wasn’t perfectly flat and straight. Pinkie Pie’s eyes weren’t bloodshot and dilated. Pinkie Pie’s cheeks weren’t devoid of all blood. Pinkie Pie’s coat wasn’t patchy.

No, this certainly wasn’t Pinkie Pie, but some imposter who had taken her very soul and being in the night, leaving her devoid of what gave her life purpose.

If she could have still felt emotion, she would’ve been angry.

What about didn’t matter because none of it mattered, nothing could matter any more.

Pinkie was done.

She wasn’t depressed though.

When she had recently come to Ponyville, she found she couldn’t understand how ponies couldn’t be permanently happy like she was, and so she checked out a book on depression from the library.

It was a hard book to find. Everything in Ponyville is supposed to be perfectly idyllic. Everypony's supposed to be perfectly happy.

She didn’t enjoy the book.

She told herself it was fictional, or at least that she’d never end up that way.

So she wasn’t depressed.

So she didn’t have anything to justify.

She walked over to her trashcan, where sixteen suicide notes sat, crumpled and smudged.

She reached in, but recoiled as her hoof brushed up against a red-soaked tissue.

Sixteen times she couldn’t say it, and she couldn’t say why.

For weeks now, she’d been drafting the perfect one, coming up with snippets of sentences in her head. But when the pen finally touched paper, it all seemed so useless.

Useless.

Useless was a funny word. Its cacophony of S’s makes it slip perfectly off the tongue, yet the weight in its meaning makes it hang in the air for far too long.

Useless.

She pulled out a dictionary from under her bed and flipped through it.

It had been gifted to her as a filly; a large, deep red-bound tome which had become dust-covered due to its infrequent use.

“Useless, adjective: not fulfilling or not expected to achieve the intended purpose or desired outcome.”

So what’s my intended purpose? Desired outcome?

She paused to ponder this.

Do I even have one?

All she ever wanted to do was make other ponies happy. When they smiled or laughed, Pinkie could mirror their emotions.

Twilight once had called her a hopeless extrovert. It seemed like a compliment at the time.

But she wasn’t making anypony happy.

She couldn’t have.

What friends she once had had jetted off to Canterlot or Manehatten or Celestia-cares-where. And if they were still in Ponyville, perfect, happy Ponyville, they were too busy to come around anymore.

She took a deep breath, or at least tried, and tried to remember something happy.

Rainbows on rock farms.

Finding new friends.

Singing through the streets.

Parades and parties.

No.

It was too painful- it would always be too painful, because it would always be just out of reach.

Useless.

Emotions kept creeping up under her skin, threatening to burst out in a tidal wave of blood and guts and secrets and memories and deep, dark, terrible thoughts.

Her breathing ragged, she struggled to push everything down, to make it all go grey again.

Struggling to catch her breath, she sat down, trying her best to focus, to push everything out-

But then again, what if she didn’t? What if she didn’t want to start breathing again? It would be easy, it would be over, wouldn’t it?

She needed to stop the thoughts that were unrelentlessly swirling through her brain, smashing the edges, she needed to have something to hold onto...

Name: Pinkamena Diane Pie

Place of residence: Sugarcube corner, Ponyville, Equestria

Occupation: N/A

Mane: Pink

Coat: Pink

Eyes: Blue

Intended purpose: Making ponies smile

Desired outcome: Happiness

Date achieved: N/A

It’s not easy to procure poison in Ponyville.

It’s not easy to stare at the bottle until your vision goes blurry.

It tastes slightly sweet at first, but has a bitter aftertaste.

After all, that’s when the regret sets in.

You’ll feel your heart racing, but ignore that.

Your vision will go soon enough.

It won’t matter if you wanted this.

All you have to do is wait.

8: The Boreal Pole

I’d love to come out to Fillydelphia, I really would, but I’m afraid my schedule simply doesn’t allow it. If business ever takes me there I’d be happy to come visit you, but for now, it looks like I’ll be stuck in Canterlot for quite some time...

If you’ve ever had a major tragedy happen to you, you’ll know how it feels to wake up the next morning. If you haven’t, here’s what it’s like:

As usual, you slowly drift into consciousness, still clinging to the leftover fragments of your dream-world. But it’s hopeless, so, still curling into the covers, you open your eyes. And everything seems like it’s going to be a normal day.

But then you remember.

And all you want to do is feel that sweet, warm escape of fantasy again, but it’s hopeless, because you’re never going to be able to return to what used to be reality. It’s gone, slipping from your memory every second.

And you want to scream.

But you don’t. You have to get up. You have duties, responsibilities to attend to.

So if you’re anything like Twilight Sparkle, you schedule.

You pencil in ‘Pinkie’s funeral’, in that neat penmanship only unicorns have, right in between ‘Breakfast with Celestia’ and ‘Firepony’s Ball’.

You splash some water on your face to lessen the puffiness around your eyes.

You cast the tear-stopping spell on yourself.

You pretend nothing’s wrong.

Get used to it.

Celestia had been very sympathetic. Well, empathetic.

She was the one who told Twilight, even though she first found out about it at night, and it really should have been Luna. But she insisted.

There were tears. There were hugs. It was comforting.

But now Twilight was alone in her room, with no hugs or comfort, but no tears either, at least.

When her emotions were slightly less high, Celestia had told her the story of losing her first close friend. She was a classmate of hers, and was just as obsessed with makeup and colts as she was with ancient runes and legendary unicorns. Top of her class at the only magic school in Equestria, everypony said her name would forever live on in the history books. But shortly after graduating, she fell in love. Celestia approved of the stallion, but once the two were married, the two friends gradually drifted apart, as often is the case. Soon after, she fell pregnant, and the mare was forced to give up her research for motherhood. It wasn't long before she had three or four little foals running around, and nopony had heard from her in years.

Years later, once those foals were surely grown, Celestia was doing some spring cleaning, and happened upon some mementos from her school days, in a dusty old box in the bottom of her closet. Included was a picture of her and this mare, smiling brightly for the camera. Seeing the picture filled the Princess with so much nostalgia that she immediately felt compelled to write to her old friend, just for the contact. To her surprise, she replied. The two mares corresponded for a while, until Celestia finally invited her back to Canterlot to study magic once again. It took some convincing, but she eventually agreed, and took residence in the castle, free to make magic history, as promised. But she was out of practice. And not long after she’d arrived, she was combining two powerful and outdated spells, when it backfired, killing her instantly.

Celestia paused after getting to that point in the story.

“Is that it?” Twilight asked.

Celestia shook her head.

“It was painful, so incredibly painful to me, but the point is, I kept going.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better.”

Celestia smiled slightly at her, as if Twilight was still a filly, and the issue at hand was a bad grade on a test or a lost teddy bear.

“No, but you’ll know you’re not alone.”

Celestia waited while Twilight grabbed a tissue and blew her nose, still runny from the excess tears.

“What was her name?”

“Whose name?”

“Your friend. The one who died.”

Celestia paused for too long, clearly deep in thought.

“I honestly don’t remember. It was a very long time ago. I’m sorry, Twilight.”

“It’s fine.”

Get used to it.

Later that day, Celestia, coming to check on her student, found her in the library, surrounded by books.

This wouldn’t have been too strange usually. In fact, it’s where she always checked first. Since she was a filly, if something happened and nopony could find Twilight, Celestia told them to check the library, and there she would be, sitting in a corner in her own little book fort. And it looked like nothing had changed so far.

“What are you reading?” She asked quietly.

Twilight, startled, slammed her book shut and covered it with her hooves.

“Um, nothing. Just- just the usual.”

She wasn’t exactly covering it well enough.

Understanding Depression: How you Can Help

“Well, alright. Would you like to talk any more, Twilight?”

What’s Left: A Collection of Essays on Immortality

She shook her head.

An In-Depth Analysis of the Seven Stages of Grief

“Thank you, Princess.”

Breaking Through Survivor’s Guilt

“You’re welcome.”

Coping Mechanisms and How to Use Them

Celestia paused, as if she had something more to say, but instead turned to leave.

“Celestia, wait.”

She turned back around to face Twilight.

“Uh, Pinkie’s funeral was cancelled. So I’ll be able to go to the press conference.”

Twilight cast her eyes downward to the grayscale ponies on the cover of her book.

“You don’t have to go, Twilight.”

“No, I want to go.” Twilight answered all too quickly.

Celestia nodded and finally left Twilight to be alone with her books again.

Get used to it.

Ponies die and that’s understandable.

Death is inevitable.

Well, unless you’re a princess, of course. But that’s irrelevant. Ponies around you will still die, and that’s okay.

Well, unless they committed suicide.

Which is rare enough that the word tastes foreign on most ponies’ tongues.

And you don’t want any to give anypony any ideas, of course. So when you have to speak about the death of an Element, you don’t say “suicide” and you don’t say “poison” and you don’t say “depression”.

You say “accidentally overdosed on a potion prescribed to help her sleep.”

Or you don’t say anything about it.

But if somepony asks, well, that’s what they put on the death certificate.

That’s what it said in the obituary.

It also said “Pinkie Pie’s memory is celebrated how she lived her life: in laughter and in song.”

It also said “She died having lived her life to the fullest.”

So you say "She'll be missed."

And you can say those other things too, standing up there on that podium with the lights in your face and the hushed sound of shuffling papers and squeaky chairs.

Just read your note cards and it’ll be fine.

And whatever you do, don’t let them see you cry.

Get used to it.

9: The Alley Titanic

It definitely takes a lot of hard work to be a Wonderbolt, so keep flying, but most importantly, never stop dreaming, squirt, never stop dreaming...

Click. Flash. Blink.

“So Rainbow Dash, what’s being in the spotlight like?”

“Well, I’m glad I’m not epileptic.”

The crowd chuckled and, like clockwork, a few more bulb flashes blinded Dash momentarily.

Another question was prompted.

“Why was Dash admitted now? Why wait so long?”

Dash opened her mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by Spitfire, her smile gleaming.

“We’ve wanted her for a long time really, but she’s had other commitments until now.”

The smile was redirected to Dash’s direction, prompting her. Just like they’d practiced.

“I joined as soon as I possibly could.”

The organizer, or whatever they were actually called, signaled for the last question. Rainbow internally breathed a sigh of relief.

“Rainbow, how long do you plan to stay with the Wonderbolts? Do you have any plans to move back to Ponyville?”

She paused, thinking for a moment.

“While I have always dreamt of being a real Wonderbolt, and it’s been amazing so far, I can’t forget all the wonderful friends I have in Ponyville. I’d really like to go back someday, but I’m not sure how soon that’ll be.”

But she didn’t say that. Of course she didn’t say that.

She said she wasn’t sure yet, and then they were all out of time, and somepony was handing her a water bottle and ushering her away and those seizure-inducing flashes were still in her face even when she closed her eyes. Especially when she closed her eyes.

And then it was all over and she was alone in her private locker room. Except she wasn’t. She was never alone.

Her assistant, whatever her name was, was ever-present it seemed.

If she’d been a pegasus, she would be one the ones who are always hovering one or two feet off the ground, treading air.

But she wasn’t, so instead Dash was annoyed by the clipboard encased in lime glow, the one with all the checkmarks and even more empty boxes.

She forced a smile onto her face to match the unicorn’s radiating sunshine.

“How’d you think it went?” She took a nonchalant sip out of the plastic water bottle that had been uncapped for her.

“Well, it was your first press conference, so I don’t think anypony was expecting you to be flawless or anything.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

She reveled in the hint of malice in her words.

As her assistant stumbled over her words, trying to save herself, Dash turned her attention to the stack of fan mail on her vanity. She shuffled through it unenthusiastically.

That is, until she stumbled upon a small, square envelope. The address was hand-written in careful script.

Intrigued, she opened it.

Ms. Rainbow Dash-

We would like to invite you to celebrate the life of the beloved Pinkamena Diane Pie.

Join us for a memorial service, to be followed by treats from Sugarcube Corner.

Hope to see you there,

The Pie Family

There was also a time and a date.

The date was about two weeks ago.

She turned around.

“The hell is this?”

The color drained from her assistant’s face.

“It’s, uh, well, you couldn’t go, because we had that performance... the one at the foal’s hospital in Manehatten? You couldn’t’ve missed it, Miss Dash.”

Couldn’t have missed doing dumb loop-de-loops to go to my best friend’s funeral.

“You still should’ve told me about it.”

“I... thought you knew. You’re supposed- you told me you like to go through your mail by yourself.”

“Oh, so it’s my fault?”

Dash took a step towards her, and she cringed in response.

“No, of course not-”

“No, I know what you’re saying. Obviously if I wasn’t such a dumb bitch, I’d have seen the invitation. Obviously if I wasn’t so stupid and worthless and disorganized, I could have said goodbye to her.”

“That isn’t what I said!”

The assistant’s voice was shaking.

“I don’t give a shit. You meant it, I know you meant it, because everypony means it. They all hate me here, just like you, and I don’t deserve it!”

She flung the invitation and closed her eyes as it sliced past the unicorn’s face, leaving a pinkish streak that quickly turned red with blood. She shrieked and ran off, her tears tinted red as they fell to the ground in a trail.

Well they would have, if Dash had been watching. Or cared.

She deserved it.

To clear her mind, Rainbow Dash has always taken to the skies.

Maybe it reminded her of her childhood, spent peeking down at the tiny, picturesque Ponyville below. Those days when everything was so much simpler.

But she’s never been one for nostalgia.

So as her wings spread and lifted her until the air felt thin and cool, memories were not resurfaced. That wasn’t the point.

After all, she didn’t want to cry.

So it was easier to shut down, to shut off, to avoid everything problematic.

She was waiting until the day, until the press conference where somepony asked her what she thinks about when she flies.

And she’ll be completely honest when she answers “Nothing.”

They think it makes her better in competitions: her ability to tune everything out, to focus.

It’s a skill she’s developed.

And maybe, just maybe, from her teetering vantage point in the sky, it didn’t matter that she missed the funeral of one of her best friends.

She would’ve felt so out of place, so awkward. She could picture her technicolor mane as the subject of the glares peeking out from underneath

After all, she didn’t like to cry.

Instead, maybe it was best to stick to her comfort zone, with the white noise of the wind rushing past her ears.

Maybe she’d land and go apologize to her assistant, or at least find out her name.

Maybe she’d go to training tonight and joke around like usual.

Maybe she’d be be okay.

Maybe she deserved it.

10: The Volcanic Heart

...if anything, what I’d like to bring to fashion is a broader sense of what the art can be. Clothing in general has had such a unique role in Equestrian history, and most ponies are quite ignorant of all of that. Education and art must be symbiotic...

Another city, another show, another interview, another night spent tossing and turning on a probably bedbug-ridden hotel mattress.

Rarity hadn’t had a full, good night’s sleep since she left Ponyville, even with her aloe-infused sleeping mask and duck-feather bathrobe.

She never remembered her dreams anymore, but every morning she woke feeling slightly unsettled, as if she couldn’t fall asleep due to the fear her brain remembered.

It was all okay, though.

Just a bit more concealer for the bags under her eyes, and switching from orange juice in the morning to coffee, and she was fine. The usual old Rarity.

But maybe once she had somewhere a little more permanent, she’d rest easier.

Which is why she’d been to twelve apartments today. Damask wallpaper and velvet chaise lounges were starting to bleed together, dampened by her repressed apathy towards anything that she knew could never be home.

But she kept her brave face on, and kept smiling at every real estate agent she knew wouldn’t be getting a call from her anytime soon. She doubted they cared.

Another comment about how the claw-footed bathtub really added a needed touch of elegance to the master bath, and frankly, brought the whole room together.

Another breathtaking view from the balcony she lingered just a few seconds too long on, just to feel the cold wind threaten to upset her perfect mane, and stare at the tiny, insignificant city below.

Another apartment. Another flat. Another condo.

She wanted to scream.

She wanted to lose her cool, to call the crystal chandelier in the dining room unbelievably tacky, to say that the floor plan must have been designed by a newborn, to complain that the entire apartment was ruined by the fact that you could never escape the damn noise below.

She wanted to strangle the real estate agent with his own tacky red bowtie. She wanted to spit on the thousands of egotistical nobodies thousands of feet below her. She wanted to feel wanted again, or at least noticed. She wanted to get some sleep. She wanted to never sleep again.

She didn’t know what she wanted.

Which is why, she supposed, she still was homeless.

The listing had used words like minimalistic and and natural to describe this next apartment, but the text in the newspaper hadn’t quite prepared Rarity for how... blank it was.

She stood in front of the large picture windows, the ones that had been almost exactly the same in every place she’d seen before. Except those were framed by dusty curtains or covered by tacky venetian blinds. But there was nothing. Just Canterlot.

“Beautiful view, isn’t it?”

Startled, she spun around.

It only took a second to regain her composure and meet the gaze of yet another real estate agent. But at least this one provided a little bit of variance by being male.

“Hi, I’m-”

“Rarity, isn’t it?” He smiled at her.

“Uh, yes. I am.”

There was something unsettling about his eyes. At first she assumed it was just their emerald color (she was a fan of jewel tones, after all), but it took her a second before she realized that she was so taken aback because he was really seeing her. Not just looking at her, as a client or walking money bags, but seeing her. And she wasn’t used to it.

“They call me Larkspur. You might know my sister actually, Ophelia LaRoux. It’s a stupid name, I know, but she needed something flashy for show business or something, I don’t know. Anyway, lovely apartment, isn’t it?”

Whatever it was about him, she still wasn’t able to conduct herself completely normally.

“Yes, but it’s rather... blank?”

“More like a blank canvas.” he suggested. “Perfect for someone like you, isn’t it?”

“Like me?”

“You’re a fashion designer, aren’t you?”

She nodded.

“Then it’s the perfect place for creativity. Somewhere to let your mind finally clear.”

Maybe on more sleep, maybe in a better mindset, maybe she’d have found the sentiment touching just a bit too close to home. But she didn’t.

She found it inspiring.

Apparently, being a successful fashion designer involves a lot of small talk while sipping champagne and nibbling on miniature quiches in oversized ballrooms

The candlelight always glints perfectly off the jewels the mares are wearing, and Rarity always finds herself distracted from what is apparently a conversation, her eyes drawn to the way the crystalline structure captures light.

“Rarity?”

She snapped back to attention.

“Sorry, what was that?”

The socialite smiled politely.

“I said, aren’t you from Ponyville?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Then you must’ve heard about that terrible tragedy there-”

Understand this: at all of the parties she attends, Rarity wears her own creations. Every crystal on her gown was painstakingly hoof-sewn, every rouche and cut-out was designed especially for her. If sold, if she ever wanted to sell one of the dresses she’d already be seen in, they’d fetch three months’ rent. Each.

And dresses like these, which are more wearable art than practical covering (since ponies don’t really need clothing anyway), you don’t exactly chuck them in the washer when they’re dirty. That is to say, they don’t respond well to most liquids, especially those that stain.

And just to stop the socialite mid-sentence, Rarity ‘spilled’ her glass of Cabernet Sauvignon all over herself.

Displaying the calculated facade of being utterly surprised and flustered, she hurried off to the bathroom, crocodile tears in her eyes.

But of course, she didn’t go in. One doesn’t exactly get red wine out of a sea-foam dress. She walked past it, her hooves clicking on the polished marble, and exited into the garden, where the cool night air sent shivers down her spine.

But she wasn’t alone.

“Larkspur?”

He turned around from the night-blooming jasmine he was admiring and smiled at her.

“Rarity. What a pleasure.”

“What are you-”

“My sister’s date canceled on her last-minute, and she wouldn’t dare go to one of these things alone. However, they’re not exactly my cup of tea. What brings you outside?”

She looked down at her dress, and he followed her gaze.

“What a shame.”

She shrugged.

“If I cared about the dress I wouldn’t have spilled my wine.”

“It still looks beautiful, nonetheless.” He said this softly, as not to upset the moment as it swirled around him.

He stepped towards her and she looked into his eyes and for a moment she was utterly lost in them, even though the moonlight made them seem so much less green than the first time they’d met.

“So, have you thought about that apartment?”

In fact, she had.

11: The Sulphurous Current

Thank you for the letter. Don’t worry, I didn’t find it too awkward. In fact, I think you’re right. However, if it isn’t too much trouble to you, I would not like to discuss that. You know how hard everything has been lately...

After whatever disaster of the week wrecked Ponyville, Fluttershy was there for the cleanup efforts. Every single time.

She knew she wasn’t the bravest, or the strongest, or really the most helpful. So she tried to make herself useful by dealing with the aftermath.

She swept the streets of rubble, painted rebuilt homes, hosted a therapy group, anything just to help. Just to be kind.

So when Pinkie died, there was still aftermath to deal with. So she helped.

Her family had come down to Ponyville as soon as word reached them, so Fluttershy met them at Sugarcube Corner to at least provide some comfort.

And once they asked her, she was very willing to help them clean out her bedroom.

And she pretended not to notice the empty bottle on the night stand.

But when she went to empty the wastebasket, something stopped her.

So she reached in and pulled out the crumpled piece of paper that was sitting on top.

And she carefully unfolded it.

And she was the one who suggested they cancel the funeral.

Time seemed to snowball, to the point where she barely noticed as the days turned into weeks, months, but not years quite yet. Normally, she’d be acutely aware of time as it passed, taking daily observations of the shifting seasons as she walked through the forest. But she couldn’t remember the last time she’d stopped and smelled the roses, as they say.

Well, she could, but Pinkie was alive then.

In fact, the time she spent indoors had gradually been getting larger, as she spent most of her time in near-darkness, the only light coming from the gap between her curtains, dusty and drawn. But other than that, she was rarely ever aware of what time it was.

You see, she didn’t need to know what time, or what day, or what season it was. She had her memories.

“That’s an awful lot you’re buying.”

“I’m stocking up.”

With the sun this bright and the sky this cloudless, it was a little hard to believe that Ponyville’s open-air market only had a few weeks left before it closed down for the winter.

But there definitely was a crisp note with each breath in, and the ground felt noticeably under one's hooves, but it only felt like late Autumn if you let those things get to you.

In just a couple weeks, ponies would arrive to the town hall in hats and scarves, and promptly shed them as they browsed the stockpiled fruits and fresh kale, housed indoors. Which made Fluttershy’s response only slightly out of the ordinary. Who would need to stock up when the market was year-round?

She smoothed over the situation with a soft smile, and began dragging her purchases back towards her cottage. A unicorn offered to help her, but she pretended not to hear him. She’d be able to avoid an interaction guaranteed to be awkward that way.

She tried her hardest to ignore the stares of the ponies around her as she began to sweat from the sun and the physical exertion.

It was the last time she’d visit the market.

Fluttershy had been doing the same job for winter wrap up since she first came to Ponyville. Her very first year, her eyes sparkled as she was handed a brand new tan vest, even though the material was stiff and it was far too large for her.

She briefly found comfort in this memory as she spread her wings and glided over the snow, sparkling in the bright sun the weather pegasi had arranged to melt everything down. As she swooped down and landed, the bell she was holding in her mouth softly tinkled.

All winter, she’d tried to go outside as little as possible. If anyone had asked, not that they did, she would’ve said that the cold had been making her sick. Something like that, anyway.

Near the end of that unremarkable winter, a letter was shoved through the slot in her door.

She cautiously opened it and read the letter, taking her time on each word.

She wanted to say no. She wanted not to reply, actually. Just let them assume it had never been delivered.

She reread it, skimming through this time. Her eyes caught on we need you and helpless animals and the best in Ponyville.

But still, when she landed, in front of the rest of the team, she could see the surprise on their faces.

Maybe they knew they wouldn’t see her again.

Her only memories of the nights were a blurry darkness, repressed or just merely forgotten.

The nightmares had began shortly after Pinkie had left, and so, for a while, she’d pray to Luna not to make her live through it all again.

But still, every time she closed her eyes, she was greeted with invisible auras of magic pulling razors across her throat, her nose being plugged as vials of poison float towards her, her neck in a noose as her wings struggle to keep her from dropping the thirty feet below her.

Except sometimes, she’d already be dead. She’d feel the shovels of dirt hitting her chest hard as she struggled to scream out. But nopony would hear her and she’d hear them walk off as worms and other bugs slowly crawl towards her, and the days would pass until she’d look at her arms and see maggots weaving their way through the patchwork of flesh still left on her bones, her fur matted with dried blood.

That was the worst. So she stopped sleeping, terrified of what would greet her at the other end of her consciousness.

Besides, it was far too quiet to relax. Usually, as she drifted off, she was comforted by the sounds of her animals snoring, stirring, et cetera. But lately, as her eyes stayed firmly open, bloodshot and dilated, the only sounds she could hear was the blood rushing in her ears and her own breathing, reassuring her that she was still alive.

She wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. She wasn’t sure if she really wanted to sleep, whether or not the nightmares were there. She wasn’t entirely sure what was real.

But it was okay. She had her memories. And they could replace anything.

12: The Ultimate Clime

I’m sorry I haven’t written in a while. I guess I don’t exactly learn anything Princess-worthy every day. I don’t really think the others do either -write letters that is- but I haven’t exactly talked to them in a while. You can understand why.

Usually, Applejack of all ponies was acutely aware of the changing seasons. Her family’s welfare depended on it. So when she woke, ready to sow some seeds, the blizzard swirling outside her window made her completely convinced that she was still dreaming.

It didn’t take long to realize she wasn’t.

Applejack cursed softly under her breath and headed downstairs.

As usual, she was the first one up, so she started a fire in the hearth to hopefully melt her brain enough to figure out what the heck she was going to do, or what was even going on, really. She blinked back the sleep behind her eyes as she stood watching the now-growing fire.

Reluctantly, she turned around to face the window.

The sun was just barely rising, and its first rays caught on the snow that had already stuck on the ground, making it twinkle as more fluffy flakes fluttered downwards.

It was beautiful and she absolutely hated it.

The heavy hoofsteps behind her signaled that her brother was awake. Her eyes were fixed on what was going on outside, so he silently walked up next to her, staring at the window as well. They stood like that for a moment, just taking everything in. The sound of breathing and the fire’s crackling were the only things to break the tranquil silence.

It could’ve been a very beautiful moment. But they’d wrapped up winter nearly a month ago now, so panic was slowly building inside Applejack.

“Probably just one of Dash’s pranks.” Big Macintosh offered. Applejack shook her head.

“Dash hasn’t been in Ponyville for six months now.”

“Oh. Right.”

They fell back into silence, as if not talking about the current problem would mean they didn’t have to solve it.

The snow didn’t show any signs of stopping.

The moment was broken by the sound of very rapid hoofsteps tumbling down the stairs and towards them. Both ponies swung around to see Applebloom hurtling towards them, her limbs flying and her mane swirling around the oversized smile on her face.

“Look, I got my cutie mark!”

“Shit.”

Two hours, three cups of coffee, four bowls of oatmeal, and five scrambled eggs later, the entire family still was at a loss for words.

The sun had fully come up. The snow was still falling. Empty breakfast plates still sat on the table. Applebloom was still smiling. Applejack felt very guilty.

“If the ground freezes over we’re screwed.” Big Mac said quietly. Granny Smith glared at him for his language use but he didn’t meet her gaze.

“Yeah I know. That’s the damn problem.” Granny Smith turned her glare towards Applejack, who was also oblivious to it.

The way he looked at his sister asked what do you want me to do, but he stayed silent.

“One day of snow won’t hurt us.” Granny Smith finally said. “Now, I remember one day, must’ve been thirty years ago, when we got a blizzard way in the middle of-”

“I still wanna know what’s going on.” Applejack interrupted. Granny Smith sighed and stood up from the table, her joints nearly creaking as they moved.

“Well, I think it’s a wonderful day to bake an apple pie.” She turned to Applebloom. “Why don’t you help me, or are you too grown-up with your new cutie mark?” She said with a smile.

“Thanks, Granny, but I really wanna tell the other Crusaders about what happened!” Applebloom jumped up from the table and bounded over to the closet to grab her boots and scarf.

“Oh no you don’t.” Applejack walked up behind her sister. “I ain’t letting you out in that cold.” Applebloom’s smile faded as her eyes got bigger. But Applejack held her ground.

“Big Mac, you make sure nothing’s falling apart here on the farm. I’m gonna go figure out what’s going on out there. And I want a pie on that windowsill by the time I get back, y’hear?”

Everypony nodded, silently, frozen in place. She raised her eyebrows and they sprang into action. Satisfied, she pulled on her winter clothes and braced herself for the cold.

She walked with no real destination.

Normally, if she needed to go to Cloudsdale, she’d ask Rainbow to take her up. But her absence was the whole reason Applejack was in this damn situation.

If Dash was already up there, or busy or something, she’d ask Twilight to cast the cloudwalking spell on her and teleport them up or something. But she was busy doing important things in Canterlot.

It turns out she didn’t really have many options, so eventually she found herself in Mayor Mare’s office, her hooves slammed on the table.

“Get me up there right now.”

The mayor tried her best to keep her composure.

“It’s under control.”

“I don’t care.” She said through gritted teeth. “Get me up there.”

She took a deep breath and looked downwards as she removed her glasses. She looked back up, her dark blue eyes showing their age.

“Look, Applejack, there is truly nothing I can do. The weather ponies are fixing the problem as we speak.”

But Applejack didn’t budge.

“I still want to go talk to them myself.”

Mayor Mare shook her head.

“I’m sorry, but I’m not allowed. This is a government issue, and you don’t have that jurisdiction.”

Applejack paused for a moment, then finally retreated towards the door. But just short of leaving, she stopped and turned back around.

“You’d let me if I was still an Element of Harmony.”

Later that night, as the smell of fresh-baked pie wafted throughout the house, Applejack sat down at her desk with a quill, a sheet of parchment, and a blanket wrapped around her.

It had stopped snowing, luckily, but it was still rather cold. The press release had said a couple days of cold wouldn’t hurt anything too much, and everything would be back to normal soon, but something didn’t sit right with her.

She dipped her quill into the ink.

Dear Princess Celestia,

She wasn’t quite the letter-writing type (that had always been more of Twilight’s job), but the words came easier than snow melts in summer and before she knew it, she’d filled a full page with everything she’d been keeping inside her.

It was cathartic, and after she finished, she sat still for a few moments, just breathing in the smells of the dusty old farmhouse and fresh apple pie.

Her eyes glanced over what she’d written.

Dear Princess Celestia,

She sniffled back tears she didn’t know were welling up, then quickly stood up and crumpled the letter in her hooves.

She had to do something.

13: The Star-Dials

I've learned that sometimes the solution to your problems can come from where you least expect it. It's a good idea to stop and listen to your friends' opinions and perspectives... Even when they don't always seem to make sense...

“Princess, you are far too stressed.”

You’re damn right I’m too stressed.

“I’m just busy. But I assure you, I have everything under control.”

Lies.

“Don’t try to lie to me. I can literally feel how stressed you are.”

Twilight’s first massage in Canterlot wasn’t exactly going well.

The candles artfully arranged according to Feng Shui or something provided a soft, flickering light. She had been sipping on chamomile iced tea this whole time. A light mixture of lavender and tea tree was being pumped throughout the room by a small humidifier in the corner. And this massage pony was very talented at what she was doing.

Everything was perfect. Yet somehow, Twilight couldn’t relax. It was pretty clear why.

“You can’t necessarily know that.” Twilight meekly offered.

“Enough years doing this, and you learn to feel things.”

She wondered if her masseuse could feel how long it had been since she had slept. Or the number of things on her to-do list. Or her daily caloric intake.

Unless she specialized in qualitative, rather than quantitative data.

She took a few deep breaths, counting like Conquering Stress from Within told her to do.

One.

She tried her best to clear her mind; to give into the ambiance of the room.

Two.

She could feel her relaxed muscles urging her mind to follow suit.

Three.

She still had to schedule that meeting with the Royal Library’s head librarian.

Four.

She’d have to figure out how to integrate a labeling overhaul without sounding too controlling.

Five.

She really did like the head librarian, but she certainly wasn’t a pushover.

Six.

She could possibly draw up some diagrams to help explain the new system.

Seven.

She’d have to find time to draw them, though.

Eight.

She suddenly remembered she was supposed to be relaxing and tried to clear her mind.

Nine.

She also remembered the visitors from Vanhoover had canceled, clearing up tomorrow afternoon, so she could draw the diagrams then.

Ten.

This was hopeless.

“How’d your massage go?”

From the way Twilight was slumped in her chair at their weekly lunch date, Celestia didn’t really need to ask. But she did anyway, much to Twilight’s annoyance.

“It was fine.”

Celestia decided not to push it, instead answering with a knowing gaze and a sip of her soup.

Twilight was determined to make the rest of her day salvageable. She still had a lot on her list.

She took a deep breath and picked up her spoon. At least she knew lunch would go well.

She’d barely eaten two bites when a guard noisily swung the doors open, scaring both Princesses. Looking slightly panicked, he ran up to her.

“Princess Sparkle... you have a visitor. She says it’s incredibly urgent. I tried to send her away, I really did, but she was very adamant that she has to see you.”

“Who is it? Do I know her?”

“I think so. I really think you should go.”

Holy Tartarus, something’s gone really wrong.

She apologized to Celestia for ruining lunch.

Something has happened between two of our allies.

She thanked the guard for the message.

Something is attacking Ponyville again.

She ran out of the room and down the stairs.

Something’s happened to another one of the elements.

She threw open the door to the waiting room.

“Howdy, Twilight. Long time no see.”

“So this is your bedroom, then?”

Twilight nodded.

“Haven’t you been here before?”

Applejack shook her head.

Twilight stood awkwardly in the center of the room as Applejack poked around.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” She tentatively asked.

Applejack sighed.

“I was hoping you’d already know.” She paused, to give Twilight a chance to fill in, but the alicorn stayed silent. “The six of us haven’t been all together since last October. And we both know what kinda toll that’s taken.”

“I don’t think anything’s that bad, Applejack. I mean, look at-”

“Pinkie?”

“Pinkie... Pinkie’s an anomaly. Look at Rainbow Dash: she’s a Wonderbolt now. Or Rarity?”

Applejack just shook her head.

“Look at yourself, Twilight. How do you think you’re doing?”

When you’re a princess, nopony will look you in the eye. Or if they do, they’re never really seeing you. It’s a respect thing. And so Twilight had forgotten the way Applejack’s eyes bore into her soul, that piercing stare that meant she expected honesty.

“I’m- I’m fine.”

Applejack didn’t break her stare for a moment, until she couldn’t handle it anymore, and burst out laughing.

“Twilight, did you honestly think you could lie to me? The element of honesty?”

“We’re not Elements anymore.” Twilight said softly. That broke the lightheartedness that had nearly made itself present in the room.

“I don’t exactly think you’ve lost your ability for magic, Twilight.”

She had a point there, but Twilight didn’t dare voice it.

“I’m really glad you came to visit, Applejack, but trust me, everything is going great here.”

Applejack didn’t respond, instead giving her a condescending look, those green eyes oh so unsettling.

“I’m not leaving here until you admit to me that everything ain’t peachy keen.”

Twilight held her ground. Applejack held hers. The two stood in that silence, neither one close to giving up.

Applejack, from experience, had faith that she was much more stubborn than Twilight.

She was right. Twilight still did have her magic. Which meant she had the ability to cast a tear-stopping spell on herself, which she had done that morning. So in turn, the princess was confident she could win.

What Twilight had chosen not to remember was that she had needed to cast the spell on herself every day since Pinkie had died.

What Twilight had truly not remembered was that the tear-stopping spell wears off.

And luckily for Applejack, it chose that exact moment to wear off.

Suddenly she felt it stir inside her. The rumbling, shapeless darkness that she swore didn’t exist anymore.

And then she was a whimpering heap on the floor.

And Applejack had won.

Of course, she wasn’t a bitch about it.

There were tissues and hugs and patience.

Once Twilight could breathe without sobbing, she finally admitted it all to Applejack.

It was all awful. She couldn’t stop crying. The only times she could get some sleep, she’d wake up in the middle of the night, her heart racing and her mind swirling. The only thing she cared about was her stupid to-do list. She felt like a terrible princess. She never really got anything done. She wasn’t happy. She wasn’t prepared for this.

And then she cried some more and Applejack gave her more tissues and waited.

The dignified Princess Twilight Sparkle, her eyes bloodshot and puffy, snot running down her face, sniffled loudly and asked Applejack what she should do.

“Come home.” Applejack whispered.

“I can’t.” Twilight replied.

14: The Nebulous Lustre