Cold, Unhappy, Far-Off Things
Cold, Unhappy, Far-Off Things
Dust sprayed from the tattered book as it slammed into the floor. Its leather binding was already crumbling, but the sudden impact cast coarse shavings across the other aging tomes and scrolls in the growing pile beside it. The musty reek of yellowed pages permeated the whole of the Ponyville castle library. Some of the books were charred from the fiery demise of the old Golden Oak Library; singed leather binding was a stench all its own. The orchestrator of this mess—a grey unicorn with a veiled moon cutie mark—barely noticed the smell anymore, though.
Two months, and what had she found? Nothing. Not a single thing! One would think that a pony like Princess Twilight Sparkle would have at least one book that could help Misty Moonrise, but there was nothing!
Eight whole weeks had passed since the strange events in the Never—the world of dreams—but the memories were still vivid to Misty, as they would be to any dreamwalker. She could hardly close her eyes without seeing the Never bringing dreamers’ worst nightmares to life, without feeling the nauseating aura of overwhelming dark magic. Sometimes, she could still feel herself, her very soul, being ripped apart…
Misty closed her eyes for a moment. All that is done, she reminded herself. You can’t let the past rule your present. Still, since that fateful night when she had unleashed more power than she could control, Misty had grown cautious with her magic. Small things like levitating a quill to write or to replace a book on a shelf were hardly worth the little heed they already required, but with larger, more complex spells, Misty took great care now. The last thing she wanted was to lose control again.
Shaking off the unpleasant memories, Misty reopened her eyes and reaffirmed her resolve. She had to find answers. Princess Luna did not want her to know something was wrong—a fact Misty thought best to keep to herself, though she had recounted the rest of her recent adventure to her friends—but the Never had given Misty a name for the oppressive evil that had attempted to consume it. Precisely who or what the Shadowmancer was, though, Misty still did not know.
A wave of magenta magic blew away the clouds of dust, tousling Misty’s already disheveled, white mane. She turned from the old tomes to the spell’s caster, meeting the amethyst gaze of the Princess of Friendship. The violet alicorn with the magical starburst on her flank had a few scrolls tucked under one wing and a quill behind one ear. In the air beside her levitated a stack of papers, enveloped in her rosy aura. If her neat mane had been tied back in a bun and she had been wearing spectacles, Twilight Sparkle might easily have been mistaken for a librarian.
“No luck?” asked Twilight, glancing at the scattered books and scrolls littering the floor of her library. She was smiling politely, but it was a strained expression. Misty could almost hear Twilight’s desire to tidy up the disorganized mess and to give Misty a lecture about not abusing books, especially books that belonged to somepony else.
Misty quickly surrounded the literature with sapphire magic and began returning each volume and scroll to its proper place. Twilight’s tension visibly eased. “Sorry, Princess Twilight.”
Twilight rolled her eyes with a rueful grin. “How many times must I remind you, Misty? Just ‘Twilight’ is perfectly fine.”
It was an old habit Misty still struggled to kick. She was so used to addressing three out of the four Equestrian princesses by their titles—as was respectful and proper of a subject to her sovereigns—that Twilight’s preference for familiarity over formality often slipped Misty’s mind. “Sorry,” she repeated, shuffling her hooves. “I’ll remember next time. I’ve just been… preoccupied lately.”
“I know,” replied Twilight, gaze softening. She watched as the last scroll slid into its slat and Misty’s aura winked out. “Why not take a break? Go for a walk, spend some time with your friends. The fresh air will do you good.”
Misty shook her head, pulling a new title from the shelves. “I have to keep looking. There must be something here, something I’ve missed…”
“Perhaps you should check the library at the Castle of the Two Sisters. When I got this castle, I appropriated quite a number of books from the ruins, but there might still be something there that could help you.”
Misty’s ears pricked up. “You think so?”
Twilight smiled brightly. “It’s worth a try. Just watch out for the trap doors and hidden switches—the place was more funhouse than castle by the time Celestia and Luna were finished with it.”
“I will.” Misty Moonrise snapped the book shut and replaced it on the shelf with a wisp of magic. “Thanks, Twilight.”
* * *
Once Misty was gone, Twilight Sparkle dropped the false smile and sighed, continuing deeper into the library. She reached a spiral staircase of polished oak steps and wrought iron railing, at the top of which lay her private study: a relatively small chamber that was more reminiscent of her lost Golden Oak home than the new castle, with ornate wood furnishings, a cozy rug, a few favored trinkets she had collected over the years, and of course shelves upon shelves of books. In this quiet corner of the castle library, above the ground floor and far from most distractions, Twilight found it easiest to complete the more mundane facets of royal duties, like paperwork. Admittedly, she had expected some administration would be necessary to run a government such as Equestria’s, but nowhere near the amount with which she often found herself saddled. It was almost enough to make her long for the days when all she had to do was smile and wave. Almost.
Setting her stack of papers and scrolls on her desk, Twilight glanced out the window to make sure Misty had left the castle. When she spotted the unicorn on the road to the Everfree Forest, Twilight turned to the bookcase opposite the desk. A square had been cut out of the center, the space therein filled by a vibrant mosaic of the Elements of Harmony in their past forms, when Twilight and her friends had first used them against Nightmare Moon what felt like such a long time ago.
Summoning her magic, Twilight cast a very precise spell upon the mosaic, a spell that she herself had created and that only she knew. The gemlike Elements glowed softly in response, and a thin line of light bisected the mosaic. Then the two halves swung slowly outward on silent pivots. In the hidden alcove behind them rested four tomes and two scrolls. The scrolls were delicate with age and would likely fall apart with much more handling. However, the books, while their covers were worn and their pages frayed, were in much better shape, if only because they had barely been disturbed since being transported from the Castle of the Two Sisters to Twilight’s new library.
Twilight levitated the top volume before her with a sliver of magic. She wiped away the thick layer of dust from its black leather cover, revealing an etching of a large crystal and the peeling enamel letters of the book’s title.
“Hoo-hoo!”
Twilight jumped, feathers bristling and spine going rigid. Then she relaxed when she saw it was only Owlowiscious. The owl alighted on a nearby shelf, glaring pointedly at her.
“I know, I know,” sighed Twilight Sparkle. She returned the book to the alcove. “I just… It’s just hard sometimes.”
“Hoo?”
The mosaic Elements glowed again as Twilight cast the spell to close the secret doors, sealing away the scrolls and books. “Pretending not to know,” she answered, going back to her desk and the waiting paperwork. “I never thought hiding knowledge would be part of my duties as a princess. I always thought princesses were supposed to share knowledge, not keep secrets.”
Owlowiscious fluttered over to perch on top of the stack of papers before Twilight. “Hoo.”
Twilight nodded, though she folded her ears and averted her gaze. “Somepony does have to make the tough decisions, yes. I understand that. I also understand that Luna is worried about involving Misty, but is keeping secrets from her really the right thing to do?”
“Hoo-hoo.”
Another sigh escaped her as Twilight tried to set aside such troubling matters. “You’re right, Owlowiscious,” she said, a little less glum after sharing her concerns with the owl. “The Shadowmancer’s nothing to worry about anymore. Besides, we have other things to do. Now, where did I leave my quill?”
Owlowiscious rolled his eyes and shook his head. He then took flight, plucked the forgotten quill out of Twilight’s mane with his talons, and presented it to her.
A small titter escaped Twilight as she took up the quill in a magical tendril. “What would I do without you, Owlowiscious?”
“Hoo!”
* * *
The early flowers and new growth of spring had come and gone, giving to the lush green and heat of late summer. The nights were shorter and the days longer, though the faintest nip of autumn could be felt on the wind every now and then. Afternoon sunlight bathed the thatch and tile roofs of Ponyville in gold, and the castle nestled in the branches of its great, crystal tree glittered like amethysts and diamonds. Ponies of all sorts peppered the streets, chatting, laughing, and generally keeping high spirits.
One of those ponies was a burly pegasus with sepia hair and a silver shield on his flank. He usually wore the gold-trimmed, violet armor of Princess Twilight’s Royal Guard over his mahogany coat, but today he was not. With or without his armor, though, Misty’s mood always appeared to lighten whenever she saw her old foalhood friend.
“You look like a mare on a mission,” noted Steel Shield, falling into step alongside Misty on the well-trodden road to the Everfree Forest. “Whose library are you going to ravage this time?”
“Twilight suggested I try the Castle of the Two Sisters.”
“Still haven’t found anything, then?”
“Not a thing,” replied Misty, shaking her head. “I’ve been through every historical record and scrap of literature in the castle library, but there’s nothing. It’s as if the Shadowmancer never existed in the first place.”
Steel frowned. “Maybe it doesn’t exist. Isn’t it possible this Shadowmancer thing was just another nightmare the Never conjured?”
Memory seemed to flicker behind Misty’s eyes. “I wasn’t unified with the Never for very long, Steel, but it was long enough for me to feel just how threatened and terrified the Never was. Whatever the Shadowmancer is, it’s dangerous, maybe more dangerous than anything Equestria has faced yet. That’s why I have to keep searching. If the Never has encountered this thing before, somepony else must have as well, and they must have recorded it somewhere, in a diary or a codex or…”
“A story?” posited Steel abruptly. “Like the stories Cloudy Day tells?”
Misty gasped, stopping dead in her tracks. “Steel, you’re a genius!”
Steel Shield snorted and smirked, raising his head. “Of course I am.” Then he saw that Misty had turned off the road to the Everfree and was instead heading east, toward Cloudy’s home. “Wait!” he called, rushing to catch up. “You’re going to talk to him now?”
“Is there some reason I shouldn’t?”
“Uh…” Steel fumbled for a convincing argument. “Yes. Yes, there is.”
“Oh?”
Sweat began to bead on Steel’s forehead. “Well, um… you see…” Come on, think! Think, you overgrown popinjay! “You’ve been squirreled away in that library for so long, well, the gang and I thought it’d be fun if we all… had a picnic tomorrow afternoon. You know, just to hang out and… stuff.” He grinned as wide as his face would allow, hoping it looked genuine.
Misty flicked one ear sideways, arching an eyebrow. “That sounds like a good idea, Steel, but it’s not much of a reason not to go see Cloudy.”
“Sure, it is. Cloudy’s busy helping the others get things ready. I doubt he’s even home right now. He definitely doesn’t have time to dweeb-out over old pony’s tales.”
“I suppose.” Misty did not sound like she entirely believed Steel, but she let the matter drop. “Well, I’ll be at the Castle of the Two Sisters until then,” she said, resuming her trek to the Everfree Forest. “If I’m late, you’ll know where to find me.”
“Yeah.” Steel Shield hesitated, gaze lowered to the ground and one fore hoof rubbing the other. He had waited so long—should he speak now? His tongue felt swollen in his mouth, and his voice was stuck in his throat. Misty was almost to the bend. If he did not speak up… Finally, before his friend was too far off, Steel called, “Misty, wait! There’s something…”
Misty paused, regarding him with an impatient glare. “What is it, Steel? I have a lot of work to do.”
He just could not do it. Stretching out some semblance of a smile, Steel rustled his wings and said, “Never mind. It’s not important.” He waved her off. Then, once Misty had trotted around the bend, he sighed heavily, abandoning the false cheer. After taking a few moments to gather his thoughts, Steel Shield took flight. He soared over the rooftops of Ponyville, keen eyes scanning the ground for a particular group of ponies. It did not take him long to spot the three mares and stallion standing in the shade of an elm tree.
Before Steel could land, the white pegasus of the group flew up to meet him midair. Her long lashes framed drawn, anxious eyes. Her flaxen mane was tied back in its usual ponytail, and on her flank was a pink lily cutie mark. “Well?” pressed Lilypad. “Did you tell her?”
Shaking his head, Steel angled around her and joined the others on the ground. Lilypad followed him, although she remained hovering a few spans off the earth, fretting inaudibly under her breath. For once, Steel sympathized with her. Though they had been friends since he first came to Ponyville, his and Lilypad’s personalities grated against one another, and the pair often ruffled each other’s feathers. This time, however, they were on the same page.
The sky-blue earth pony with a sprig of berries on her flank stepped closer, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “How did it go?” Juniper Berry asked, rose-and-teal-striped curls slightly frazzled.
Head hanging, Steel silently averted his gaze. The little earth pony beside him—periwinkle with a white splash on her hindquarters, a heart-and-music note cutie mark, and navy, braided mane and tail—laid a comforting fore hoof on his. Nightingale’s eyes, set in a youthful face sprinkled with freckles, seemed to pierce the darkest depths of Steel’s heart. Steel could no more look at her than at the others. At this, Nightingale’s ears drooped. She turned to the others and shook her head.
The last of their group—a brown unicorn stallion with dark hair and a cloud crossed by a quill on his flank—stepped up beside Steel. Although usually one of the most level-headed of their number, now Cloudy Day’s eyes smoldered beneath his furrowed brow. “You said you would tell her!” he scolded. “You all but demanded to be the one to tell her!”
“I don’t know what happened,” Steel said. “I was all set to tell her, but when it came down to it… I froze up. I just couldn’t do it.”
“What sort of an excuse is that?”
“It’s the truth!”
Cloudy stamped a hoof. “We should have told her weeks ago, but you insisted we should wait. When you finally get up the nerve, you chicken out!”
Steel Shield snorted and pinned his ears. “Watch it, Day,” he warned, flaring his wings.
Nightingale quickly placed herself between the two stallions. “Whoa, thar, boys! Let’s not start pointin’ hooves ’n stirrin’ up trouble. Like my Pappy says, ‘Ye cain’t unsay a cruel word.’ This’s no time t’ make en’mies outta friends.”
The stallions glared at each other for a few seconds more, but Nightingale was right—as usual—and they soon set aside their tempers. The five ponies fell into a tense silence for an interminable interval.
At last, Juniper spoke up, if tentatively. “Somepony has to tell her. We’ve waited too long as it is.”
“Too right,” agreed Lilypad. “We simply can’t allow this to continue.”
“We should tell her together,” said Cloudy.
It was then that Steel remembered the poor lie he had told Misty, and he presented it to the others as a possible solution to their quandary. They all agreed that hosting a picnic would be their best chance for them all to be in one place with Misty. Plan set, the five ponies parted ways to play their roles. Steel Shield could not bring himself to look back; he was too consumed by thoughts of the task ahead of him. It was his job, however much he disliked it, to retrieve Misty and bring her to the others. He knew why they had to do this, but he dreaded it. It was how it had to be. It was unavoidable, a necessary evil.
But it would break Misty’s heart.
* * *
Even in the daylight, the ruins retained an eerie shroud, as if they refused to relinquish the darkness of the past. In the glassless windows and gaping cavities lurked impenetrable gloom, and the Everfree Forest had all but reclaimed the rock and rubble. Moss and lichen clung to the cracked and uneven paving stones of a once-great thoroughfare. Ivy climbed crumbling walls. Vines ensnared the shattered visages of weathered statues. Despite nature’s inevitability, however, there prevailed the ancient scars and scorch marks from the last terrible battle the Castle of the Two Sisters ever witnessed.
A chill crawled up Misty’s spine, though the Everfree atmosphere was heady and hot. How long she had stood there before the dilapidated entrance, she did not know. But this place was marked by one of the darkest times in Equestrian history. It was only a ruined castle, she knew, but something here felt… cold. Cold and tragic. Shadows from that dark day seemed to linger here, more than a millennium after the Two Sisters were divided.
Get a hold of yourself, Misty, she scolded herself. This is nothing compared to the Never. Besides, the sooner you check the library, the sooner you can leave. Forcing down her trepidation, Misty Moonrise entered the ruins.
Her hoofsteps seemed much too loud in the heavy silence. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end. Although she knew no-pony else was there, she felt that someone was watching her. Truth be told, Misty almost expected some horrible monster to descend upon her from the shadows. A soft breeze tickled her mane, rustling the rotting tapestries still hanging where they had been abandoned to the whims of the Everfree. Cobwebs glistened in the shafts of sunlight peeping through what little remained of the vaulted ceilings. Dust and dirt layered everything, so thick and old that Misty’s hooves did not even kick up a puff.
Following the tattered scraps of what may once have been a velvet runner, she came to the throne room. Twisted and broken wrought iron frames still inhabited the towering windows, but only discolored shards persisted of the stained-glass that had once filled the cavernous chamber with painted light. Threadbare banners adorned the walls, torn and faded almost beyond recognition. In the ceiling high above, two jagged wounds had been blasted. The thrones themselves rested upon raised daises, joined by a crumbling bridge that had symbolized the unity of the Two Sisters’ reign so long ago. Though weathered by time, the ornate carvings of a blazing sun and waxing crescent moon were still discernible on the thrones’ beaten and bleached countenances.
“Did you really expect me to sit idly by while they all basked in your precious light? There can only be one princess in Equestria, and that princess… will be ME!”
“Luna, I will not fight you. You must lower the moon; it is your duty!”
Voices of forgotten memory resonated in the empty hall. Misty squeezed her eyes shut against the ghosts that still infected the ruins. This place was wrong. She had never heard these words before, and she should not be hearing them now. These disembodied memories were not hers to remember.
“Luna? I am… Nightmare Moon. I have but one royal duty now—to destroy you!”
Pinning her ears to muffle the phantoms, Misty assembled a spell she had only recently learned. After all that had happened in the Never, Princess Luna had taught her how to detect the dream world’s influence from the waking world. The Never was a pocket universe all its own, but it touched and flowed through all others like the boughs of a tree. It was the life force of existence, fed by the magic only found in dreamers’ imaginations. Dreams and reality were separated, but it was a sheer curtain. Few ponies knew how to detect the Veil, fewer still who could manipulate it from either the waking world or the Never. But Misty was a dreamwalker, and she knew the Never perhaps more intimately than anypony else in this age.
Stardust shimmered around her horn as Misty cast the spell. Reality warped, rippling in an expanding bubble from where she stood. Slowly, the ruined throne room was washed away. The mangled runner underhoof became whole and immaculate, a scarlet divide on the polished, marble floor. The moth-eaten banners and faded tapestries were now fresh and resplendent with color. Elegant braziers and sconces cast all the chamber in golden firelight. The thrones themselves rested regal and resolute upon their glistening daises. On the right throne, the aging carving was now a radiant sun picked out in rubies and firedrops. An ethereal crescent of opals and moonstones adorned the left throne.
But there was still destruction. A portion of the bridge between the thrones had been smashed, and a nearby statue had been all but obliterated. Great chunks of stone lay in a pile upon the floor. Looking up, Misty could see the holes recently riven in the vaulted ceiling, through which could be seen a black orb ringed by white fire—the sun eclipsed.
Suddenly, a heart-wrenching scream shivered the air. Through one of the gaping holes in the ceiling, a white alicorn plunged and crashed violently to ground. Dust and rock sprayed forth in choking clouds, but the former soon cleared, allowing Misty a better view of the fallen alicorn. She was motionless for a time, lying limply upon the floor. Although her noble form was marred by wounds and her voluminous mane and tail were the soft pink of her youth, the Sun Princess was impossible to mistake.
From the darkened sky above rang the triumphant laughter of an all too familiar villain.
Grimacing, Princess Celestia gritted her teeth and stood, though her legs shook and her stance was somewhat unsteady. She raised resigned and regretful eyes to the eclipse as tears trickled down her cheeks. “Oh, dear sister…” she murmured, golden magic beginning to swirl around her horn. “I am sorry…”
Sparks flew from Misty’s horn as the amount of magic she drew upon to maintain the spell rapidly increased. She could feel herself being swept away on the wild currents rushing through her from the Never. The Veil between the waking and dream worlds was stretched taut, delicate as it was. If Misty lost control here, she might tear the Veil completely. She did not know what would happen if the Never were to spill into reality, but she did not intend to find out.
It was surprisingly difficult to cut off the flow of magic. Sweat glistened on her brow as Misty struggled to douse the spell. The mere thought of losing control again chilled her heart anew with every passing second. As the young Princess Celestia assembled the Elements of Harmony, though, Misty finally succeeded. In a brilliant flash of light, the ghosts of time were erased. The warp in reality smoothed, returning to the overgrown ruins the castle had become. There was no eclipse, nor two alicorn sisters driven apart by envy and blindness. Misty was alone.
Her heart pounded painfully in her breast. Her breath came in heavy, clipped gasps. Misty’s entire body trembled, but her legs shuddered the worst. It was not the spell itself, nor the phantoms that had shaken her, but how close she had come to surrendering to the Never again, to linking her soul with it and abandoning herself to its waxing and waning joy and sorrow. Stars above, Misty could curse herself for such negligence! In the future, she would have to be even more careful with her magic.
At least she had learned something. At the Castle of the Two Sisters, the Veil was unusually tenuous, worn thin by the magical and emotional extremes that had been imprinted on that dark day. In the Never, the landscape changed with every dreamer’s imagination, but that was not so where it touched these ruins. This place was caught in a loop and, like a record, was constantly replaying the traumatic scene in the timeless folds of the Never. It was no wonder, then, that Misty—a dreamwalker—could hear that repeating record bleeding through the Veil.
Satisfied but no less uneasy, Misty Moonrise left the throne room and the ghosts therein. Several wrong turns and a few close calls in the booby-trapped corridors later, she arrived in the library. Well, what was left of it, anyway. The dusty bookcases were almost entirely devoid of books, and the spare few hundred or so neglected tomes that remained looked about ready to fall apart at the slightest gust of wind. Nevertheless, Misty began to scour the molding pages. Surely there would be something here that could tell her about the Shadowmancer.
* * *
Although this was not the first time Cloudy Day had visited the Castle of the Two Sisters, he still disliked the haunted nature of the ruins. But he had to find Misty and speak his mind, despite the others’ plans. Keeping secrets was not right. Besides, how hard was it to tell the truth? Steel Shield may have found it difficult, but Cloudy knew the truth was always the best choice. It was as simple as that.
Not relishing a repeat of his last encounter with the ruins’ trick panels and hidden passages—the thought alone made him shudder—Cloudy carefully circumvented the traps as he made his way to the library. If Misty was anywhere, it would be where the books were. Well, that and Steel had already told Cloudy where she would be. He found her just where Steel had said, sitting on a spindly stool, a tattered book open on the table before her.
At the sound of his approach, Misty looked up. “Cloudy? What are you doing here?”
“Can’t a stallion visit his special somepony now and then?” Cloudy said.
“Yes, but Steel said you were very busy today.”
“I am, but I needed to see you.”
Misty frowned. “What about?”
Smiling, Cloudy teased, “Let’s start with not ending a sentence with a preposition.”
“It wasn’t a sentence,” argued Misty, grinning slightly as she returned her attention to her book. “It was an interrogative fragment.”
“Touché.” He paused, ears folding and eyes flickering to the floor. “Misty, there’s…” Cloudy trailed off, unable to finish. Now that he was in the same position as Steel, he found himself equally tongue-tied and lost for words. He would have to apologize to Steel later for lashing out at him. At least Misty did not seem to have noticed—she was still scanning the mottled pages of her book. Cloudy Day tried again to form the words that would clear his conscience, but again was unable to bring himself to speak.
“Oh, I meant to ask,” Misty said abruptly. “Have you ever come across any stories that might refer to the Shadowmancer?”
Cloudy took a moment to search his memory. As a storyteller, he kept a mental archive of all the stories he heard and read, but there were so many that he sometimes had trouble sorting them out. He had to rely on a mnemonic device to help him with this, imagining that the memorized tales were specific books in a specific order on specific shelves in his mind-library. Despite his system, however, Cloudy could not come up with a single possibility. “No,” he sighed, lowering his gaze. “Nothing… I’m sorry.”
“… What’s wrong, Cloudy?”
“Hmm?” Cloudy Day blinked. Misty had taken note of his darkened mood after all, it seemed. “Oh, nothing. Don’t worry about me.” He glanced at the small pile of books on the floor next to Misty, and then at the many others still on the shelves. His silver aura sparkled to life as Cloudy floated one of the shabby volumes off the nearest shelf. Carefully, he set it on the dusty table beside the book Misty was reading and took a seat beside her. “Mind if I lend a hoof?”
“Don’t you have things to do?”
“I always have time to help you, Misty.”
Misty blushed a little at that. Smiling, she laid a fore hoof over his and inched her stool a little closer to him. “Thanks, Cloudy.”
* * *
The hour Steel had been dreading had almost finally arrived. He had expected some great wave of drama to accompany it, but there was only a cold knot in his gut. As he walked with Misty to the picnic, Steel Shield constantly flashed sidelong glances at his old foalhood friend. A fully grown mare was there beside him, but all he could see was a little filly…
Flying above the Brumbyburg school playground, Steel spied a trio of foals huddled together near the merry-go-round. He recognized all three: the pegasus filly Solar Storm, the earth pony colt Wild Card, and the unicorn colt Flashfreeze. Immediately, Steel was suspicious—those foals were nothing but trouble, especially when they were in cahoots.
Then another filly, this a little unicorn, exited the schoolhouse. She stopped on the steps, trying her best to hide behind her trailing mane. The teacher, Mister Galloway, appeared in the doorway and encouraged the filly to go play with the other foals, but the filly adamantly shook her head and refused to budge. Then Mister Galloway seemed to have an idea, retreated into the schoolhouse, and returned carrying a book with stars and planets on its cover. He offered the book to the filly, whose ears perked up. She took the book into her hooves and opened it to read there on the steps. Smiling, the teacher left the filly to her own devices, entering the schoolhouse and closing the door behind him.
The trio of troublemakers did not wait long before approaching. So engrossed was the filly in the book that she did not see the bullies until it was too late.
“Oh, look, guys,” Solar Storm said in mock surprise, “it’s the new filly.”
The filly’s eyes snapped up, as deep and round as limpid pools.
“Well?” prompted Solar Storm. “Aren’t you going to introduce yourself? Oh, that’s right—you don’t talk, do you? Not a word, not even to Mister Galloway. Do you even know how to talk?” She smirked, and her cronies cackled.
Ears drooping, the filly searched for an escape. The trio blocked all routes forward, and the closed schoolhouse door blocked the way back.
“I heard she cried like a baby when her mom dropped her off this morning,” Wild Card snickered. “The grown-ups couldn’t get her to stop for a whole hour.”
“Did you see those ridiculous headphones Mister Galloway gave her?” chimed in Flashfreeze. He poked the filly with a fore hoof; she flinched away. “Where’d you get those things, anyway? From a circus? You looked like a clown with orange ears!”
The filly shrank from the bullies, hunching up against the steps as though to disappear into them. Unfortunately, this left her book unguarded, and Wild Card snatched it up.
“What sort of book is this?” he sneered, flipping through the pages. “There aren’t even any pictures!”
Flashfreeze snorted derisively. “I bet it’s one of Mister Galloway’s boring grown-up books.”
Solar Storm grabbed the book from Wild Card, looked it over, and scoffed, “Figures. Only a teacher’s pet would be interested in this.” Then she saw the filly hesitantly reaching to reclaim the book and grinned. “Aw, does the wittle crybaby want her book back?”
Tears sparkled in the filly’s eyes. All three bullies laughed.
Steel Shield had seen enough. Zipping around behind Solar Storm and her cronies, Steel landed silently and began to creep forward. When the unicorn filly glanced his way, he held a fore hoof to his lips for quiet and winked, and then crossed the last few spans between him and the bullies. Right upon their tails and successfully unnoticed, Steel set to work.
“Look—she doesn’t even have a cutie mark yet!” Flashfreeze said, pointing.
“You really are a baby!” crowed Wild Card.
Solar Storm shoved her face into the filly’s, jeering, “A baby blank-flank!”
“Hey!” Steel darted over the trio’s heads, planting himself between them and the filly. “Pick on somepony your own size!”
“Ooh, I’m so scared,” Flashfreeze mocked.
Wild Card laughed. “I’m shaking in my horseshoes!”
Solar Storm was less amused, elbowing Wild Card hard enough in the ribs to make him stumble into Flashfreeze. Both colts fell silent as she stood face-to-face with Steel. “Well, if it isn’t Weird Shield. What do you want?”
Steel grinned confidently. “For starters, I’ll take that book.”
“Oh, yeah?” Solar Storm cocked an eyebrow, spreading her wings. “Come and get it!” She darted into the air—and crashed back down, landing in a heap on top of Flashfreeze and Wild Card.
Laughing, Steel flew over and yanked the book out of Solar Storm’s hooves. “Piece of cake.”
“What the…?” Solar Storm tried to take off again, but it was just as futile as last time. At last, she glanced behind her and discovered her tail had been tied in a knot with both Wild Card’s and Flashfreeze’s tails. She scowled at Steel. “This isn’t over.”
“Oh, it’s over,” rejoined Steel, meeting Solar Storm’s glower. “Now buzz off, and don’t let me catch you bullying my friend again!” As the three foals stalked away, tripping over each other and tugging on their knotted tails, Steel turned to the filly and presented the book to her. “Here you go.”
The filly hesitated briefly, but then silently accepted the book.
“Don’t let those featherbrains get to you,” Steel continued, alighting beside her. “They’re just a bunch of bozos with nothing better to do than pick on nice ponies like you. The name’s Steel Shield.”
Silence. Then, in a voice so soft it was little more than a murmur, the filly said, “I-I’m… Misty Moonrise.”
Steel hooked a foreleg around the filly’s shoulders. “Don’t worry, Misty, I’ve got your back. If Solar Storm and her goons try anything again, they’ll have me to answer to. I’ll always be here for ya…”
“Are you all right, Steel?”
Steel Shield blinked. Misty was watching him closely, almost guardedly. How long had he been looking at her, that the same filly who had not seen those bullies coming had actually noticed his glance? Laughing awkwardly, Steel forced a smile and lied, “Yeah, never better.”
“You were staring at me.”
“Oh, that. Well…” He hesitated. He had been lying to her for so long now that Steel almost started to think of yet another falsehood. Then he realized that it was nearly the moment of judgment anyway. What was the point of continuing the charade? “I was just thinking about the day we met,” said Steel at length. A weight seemed to be lifted off his shoulders—admittedly, it was a pitifully small burden compared to what remained, but that did not lessen how glad he felt to be telling the truth again. “Do you remember?”
“How could I forget? That was the day you got your cutie mark.”
The fact had completely slipped Steel’s mind. “Well, yeah, but I’m talking about those bullies.”
“So am I.” Misty glanced at Steel’s silver shield cutie mark and said, “You got your cutie mark because you protected me from those awful foals, even though I was the weird, new filly in class and hadn’t done anything to deserve your help.”
Steel snorted. “I couldn’t just let them pick on you like that. What sort of friend would I be if I did?”
“We weren’t friends before that,” she reminded him. “We hadn’t even met before that. You just showed up, saved the day, and declared we were friends, and that was that.”
“Exactly, and somehow you’ve managed to put up with me all these years.” Steel swept a wing around Misty’s shoulders, dragging her close enough that he could ruffle her forelock with a fore hoof. “You got a screw loose up here that I don’t know about?”
Grinning, Misty Moonrise attempted to wriggle free. Then Steel started tickling her, sending Misty into a fit of giggles. She tried to escape the good-natured grip he had on her, but only succeeded in tripping and falling into the grass. Entangled with her, Steel toppled as well, and the two foalhood friends ended up in a pile, laughing as they had not laughed together in a long time.
“There’s a ponypile going on and no-pony told me about it?!” exclaimed a new voice. Before either Steel or Misty could respond or move, Juniper Berry jumped in with a gleeful shout.
“What in Equestria is going on here?” asked Lilypad, fluttering up to the laughing heap of ponies. At the sight of them, a small smile quirked her lips. “Now, dears, we’ve gone to all this trouble to have a nice picnic together. Couldn’t we at least abandon all our dignity at the picnic, hmm?”
“Aw, don’t be such a sourpuss!” Juniper teased, though she straightened nevertheless. Helping Misty and Steel up, she added, “But I guess we did work our tails off to get everything ready. Besides, we don’t want the ants getting to the food before we do—I brought enough pineapple soufflés for everypony!”
Following Lilypad, they at last arrived at their destination. A meadow of late-blooming wildflowers and lush grass lay before the ponies, with bumblebees buzzing lazily among the colorful blooms. The red-and-white-checkered picnic blanket had been spread at the banks of a gurgling brook, in the shade of a weeping willow. Nightingale and Cloudy Day were there setting out the dishware, food, and drinks. When they spotted Misty and the others, they smiled and waved in greeting.
The afternoon passed in a blur of mirth. Steel Shield and Lilypad engaged in their customary, harmless squabbling—she insisted that he retain some measure of decorum instead of gobbling his food like a pig over slop, to which Steel responded with very accurate porcine imitations. Juniper Berry stuffed everypony, including herself, full of as many sweets as they could stomach. The resulting sugar rush had her bouncing all over the place more than usual, but everypony was in such high spirits that they easily tolerated Juniper’s antics, even welcomed them. Cloudy Day regaled them with a comedic tale of a bumbling old gentlecolt, who thought himself a chivalrous knight on a heroic quest, and his faithful and level-headed donkey friend, who played the gentlecolt’s squire. With his magic, Cloudy added to the story glittering illustrations in the air of each ridiculous yet endearing feat. Nightingale squared off against Steel Shield in hoof-wrestling, and, to everypony’s surprise, the little mare won—all three times. Steel begged for another rematch, but Nightingale simply fell silent and smirked, basking in her triumph.
It was the kind of day that no one ever wanted to end. But all days must come to an end, and, when the sun began to sink toward the western horizon, the excitement slowly ebbed as well. Gradually, Misty Moonrise seemed to notice her friends’ dampening moods. Her brow creased slightly, as one’s would when attempting to solve an unfathomable riddle.
“What’s with the long faces?” asked Misty from where she lay, leaning against Cloudy Day by the willow.
All five of her friends shared a collective glance, but none of them looked at her. The previously light atmosphere grew heavy, the silence unbearable.
Misty considered each of them in turn. After an uncomfortable pause, she ducked her head, folded her ears, and, in a tentative, quiet voice, asked, “Did… I do something wrong?” It was the voice of one who did not always understand the actions of those around her, and it made Steel’s heart ache every time he heard it. Misty had never been good at reading social cues, and Steel could never bring himself to fault her for it. It was just the way things were—as much as he despised admitting, even to himself, that such Brumby sayings were sometimes indisputable.
“Oh, no, no, dear,” Lilypad assured her quickly. “You haven’t done anything at all. It’s just… well…” She trailed off.
Juniper finished for her. “We have to tell you something, Misty. It… involves all of us.”
“Oh.” Misty glanced at the others. “What is it?”
Steel Shield sighed, finally meeting Misty’s gaze. “A few weeks ago, I got a letter in the mail from the E.U.P. Academy. They want me to go train new cadets at the Academy outpost in the Crystal Empire.”
Instantly, Misty leapt to her hooves. “That’s amazing!” Misty exclaimed, hugging him. “Why didn’t you say something sooner? No, it doesn’t matter—I’m so happy for you! When do you leave?”
“Two days.”
“Well, I’ll be sure to see you off. Do you know when you’ll come back, or is that one of those confidential military secrets I’m not supposed to ask about?” she teased, chuckling.
Silence.
“Oh, come on, I just want to know when you’re coming home so I can meet you at the station. If you don’t know yet, just say so.”
Steel’s eyes swam with apology as he replied, “Misty, I won’t be coming back.”
After a moment, Misty laughed weakly. “Steel, quit fooling around. Of course you’re coming back.”
Steel shook his head. “Not this time. It’s a permanent relocation.”
Misty recoiled as if stricken, eyes widening. “This isn’t funny anymore, Steel. You always come back. You said you’d always come back.”
“I may be able to visit on leave sometimes, but… I’m sorry, Misty.”
“But…”
Nightingale stepped up beside Misty, laying a comforting fore hoof on her shoulder. “I’m sorry, hon,” she said, “but it’s true fer all o’ us. Ye see, we all got news some weeks back o’ opportun’ties elsewhere, ’n we took ’em. I’m gonna be the chief couns’lor at the Vanhoover Institute fer Bright Youngsters. Steel ’n me, we’re catchin’ the same train outta Ponyville day after t’morrow.”
“I have a sister out in Fillydelphia,” put in Juniper. “We’ve been dreaming of opening a café and bakery together ever since we were foals. Well, she’s finally found the perfect place to set up shop, so I’m closing my café here to go into business with her, just like we’d always planned. I have to finish packing tonight so I can make the morning train.”
Lilypad spoke next. “I’m afraid I am also leaving tomorrow, dear. I’ve been offered a job as a celebrity stylist in Las Pegasus. This sort of chance only happens once or twice in a lifetime. I simply can’t allow it to pass me by.”
It was Cloudy’s turn to speak, but he hesitated. Then he took a breath and, straightening, slowly approached Misty. “I’m going to Tall Tale in three days. I have family there that needs me—my grandmother is getting on in years, and she’s having trouble keeping up with my little sister. They’re family. I have to go.” Cloudy softly touched her face. “I won’t be gone forever, Misty, just a month or so. I promise you, I will come back.”
Unshed tears glistened in Misty Moonrise’s eyes. She backed away from them all, gaze darting from face to face, as if searching for some hint of a cruel trick, for something besides the truth.
“I’m sorry, Misty,” Steel Shield repeated. “We would have told you sooner, but… At first, we were all just too busy and it slipped our minds, and then you and Cloudy went off to Manehatten, and you were chasing down this Shadowmancer thing, and… We kept putting it off—we shouldn’t have, but we did. We were scared. We didn’t want to hurt you. We just—”
Stardust erupted from Misty’s horn, so abrupt that the five ponies around her scrambled back with startled cries and gasps. When the air cleared, Misty was gone.
* * *
Stumbling, Misty crested a grassy down, flecks of silver from the teleportation still trailing her. From upon the high, lonely hilltop, all Equestria seemed to be laid before her. The lights of Ponyville were behind her, as was the setting sun. Her shadow stretched long and black in front of her, a stark contrast to the inferno igniting the western sky. A constant wind tore at Misty’s mane and tail, bearing the feeble chills of approaching autumn. She barely noticed any of it.
Something inside her was breaking—was it her heart? How could such a small thing hurt so much? Being ripped apart by the Never had not been this painful. And it did not stop. It just kept hurting. Like a knife stabbing into Misty over and over, the agony mercilessly deepened without end. This simply could not be right. It must be some sort of nightmare. Was she asleep? Was she dreaming? Oh, Princesses, please say she was dreaming!
When Misty had first come to Ponyville, it was as a messenger to the Council of Friendship from Princess Luna, nothing more. She had not been sent to make friends. The notion had not even extended beyond her old foalhood friendship with Steel, who had by then moved away from Brumbyburg and, as it happened, joined Princess Twilight’s Royal Guard.
But she had made friends. Without Steel, Juniper Berry, Lilypad, Nightingale, and Cloudy Day, Misty never would have made it as far as she had. Without them, she never would have discovered what it was to have so many friends. She never would have known what the true magic of friendship was. She had grown to love them, and, unable to leave them, Misty had chosen to stay in Ponyville for them.
And now they were leaving.
As the stars flickered to life in the darkening sky and the last rays of the sun melted beneath the horizon, a storm such as Misty Moonrise had never known raged inside her. Part of her knew she could not be selfish and expect them all to stay just because of her, but the other part was screaming in anguish at being abandoned again. When Steel had first moved away from Brumbyburg, Misty had been left behind, unable to understand why he had gone. She understood now that she was older, but that did not erase the years of crushing loneliness and pain. And now it was happening again, but this time she was losing five friends.
Raising her stinging eyes, Misty watched as the waning crescent moon ascended. Of all the times she had gazed upon the moonrise, none had been in so torturous and lost a turmoil as this. She had so often found joy and comfort in the moon and stars, but now they were cold, unhappy, far-off things that offered neither solace nor escape.
“Misty?”
She did not need to turn around to know who it was.
“Misty, please listen,” Steel Shield pleaded, alighting beside her. He paused when she did not react to his presence, and then said, “Please don’t shut me out, Misty. I can’t stand to see you like this. I’m sorry you’re hurting, but—”
“You promised,” whispered Misty icily. She still refused to look at him, her face hidden by her windblown mane. “You promised you would always be here.”
“We were foals then, Misty. We didn’t know what the world was like or what life would bring. You can’t expect—”
“Was it all a lie, then?” she snapped. “Does a foalhood promise mean nothing simply because we were young and ignorant?”
“No, of course not,” Steel assured her, settling a wing around her shoulders.
Misty jerked out from beneath the wing, finally facing him. A dark, deep scowl shadowed her accusing glare. “Then why are you leaving again? Why are you disappearing with barely a word of warning again?”
“I’m sorry, Misty, I just… I just couldn’t… I’m so, so sorry.” Steel moved to embrace her.
Misty shoved him violently away, voice rising with the raving storm inside. “You’re sorry? You’re breaking your promise just like you did in Brumbyburg—only this time you roped all the others into it, too—and all you can say is you’re sorry?”
“Misty, I—”
“I stayed for you!” she shouted. The tears at last broke free and burned rivers down her face. “I stayed for them! I didn’t have to stay, but you showed me what I could never have in Brumbyburg or Canterlot, and now you’re taking it all away! I stayed for you!”
“I know I’ve hurt you,” Steel began gently, “but what’s done is done. If I could go back in time and change things, I would, but—”
“You could have stayed!” screamed Misty, all the buried pain of those suppressed years breaching the surface. “You promised, but where were you, Steel? Where were you when I needed you? Where were you when Solar Storm kicked me around on the playground? Where were you when she mocked me and cursed me in the streets? Where were you when she cornered me every day after school just to beat me? Where were you?”
Steel’s eyes widened. “You never told me—”
“You weren’t there! You promised you’d always be there, and you weren’t! I trusted you! I trusted you to stay, but you didn’t! You never have! All you ever do is leave! You just leave…”
A hoof settled on Steel’s shoulder, and he turned to find Cloudy standing beside him.
“Just go,” whispered Cloudy Day.
Head hanging, Steel Shield departed. Cloudy took his place, standing silently before Misty for a moment. Then, slowly, he walked nearer. Misty just stared at him, trembling and unable to still her sobs. Without a word, Cloudy drew her close, and she sank into his arms. It was the surrender that opened the floodgates. She was drowning, suffocated by a reality too much for her to bear. But Cloudy’s warm embrace was a lighthouse in the tempest, the candle by which she could find her way back.
For now, however, Misty wanted to be lost. She never wanted to be found again. To be found was to face the world alone, and she had not the strength to do that. Not yet. Not tonight.
* * *
The next three days were perhaps the longest Misty had ever endured.
It took most of the night, but eventually she ran out of tears. Cloudy managed to calm her down enough to convince her that she needed to say goodbye properly while she still could. So, the following morning, Misty met Lilypad and Juniper Berry at the station before they boarded the train. They were overjoyed to see her. When she tried to apologize for how she left them the previous day, Juniper and Lilypad just smiled and hugged her. Lilypad’s mascara began to run as the conductor yelled his warning. Thankfully, Juniper had a handkerchief in her saddlebags, though that really only smeared the make-up more when Lilypad attempted to dry her eyes. Promising to write, the two mares boarded the train, leaving Misty alone on the platform. She watched the train chug away until it melted into the hazy distance.
The second day was no easy task, either. That afternoon, Misty Moonrise caught Nightingale on the platform. Nightingale also assured Misty that an apology was unnecessary, though Misty gave one anyway.
“Look after all those foals, Nightingale,” said Misty, hugging her friend tightly. “They don’t know it, but they’re getting the best counselor in all of Equestria.”
“Aw, shucks…” Nightingale actually blushed a little—Nightingale!—but she did not dispute the compliment. “Ye be sure t’ keep in touch now, hon, ye hear? Stop by the ole dream wat’rin’ hole when ye can.”
The conductor bellowed; the train was about to leave. Releasing Nightingale, Misty vowed she would keep that promise. Then Nightingale climbed aboard, and a new pony stepped up to Misty. She adamantly turned away from Steel Shield and left before he had a chance to speak. A short while later, she heard the engine roar and the wheels grate as the train pressed forward, taking both a good friend and a broken friendship with it.
Then the hour to bid Cloudy goodbye came, and Misty found this one the hardest. Even though she knew he would come back to her, she did not want to let him go.
“It’s only for a month or so,” he reminded her. “Five, six weeks at the most.”
“I know,” said Misty, clinging to him. “I’ll miss you.”
Cloudy smiled, returning the embrace. “I’ll miss you, too, Misty.”
“All aboard!” called the conductor.
“That’s my cue,” Cloudy sighed. Brushing her forelock out of her eyes, Cloudy took Misty’s face in his fore hooves and lifted her gaze to his. “This is not goodbye forever. It’s just goodbye until next time. I’ll be home before you know it,” he promised, and softly kissed her.
And then Cloudy, too, was gone. For the final time, Misty found herself staring after the train that had borne all her friends so far beyond her reach. Emptiness filled her, and woe and anger once more warred within the shattered remnants of her heart. She had thought she had mastered her emotions, but on they raged. Against the unbearable truth of reality, the tempest within seethed and rioted, screaming for an escape, any escape. If she was not careful, Misty knew she would be swept away by the storm again, and she refused to let that happen.
So she froze the storm.
“How are you holding up?”
Misty glanced around to find Twilight Sparkle approaching.
“Sorry,” apologized Twilight, stopping beside her, “that’s a pretty pointless question, isn’t it?” When Misty remained silent, Twilight continued, “I know it’s hard right now, but, believe me, things will get better. Saying goodbye is never easy, but, even though it may hurt when friends move on, it’s better to have had friends than to have never known the magic of friendship at all. Though your friends may not be here anymore, they never stop being friends.”
“… What can you know of these things? What possible wisdom can you have to offer?” Misty’s voice was neither heated nor accusatory, just cool. The ice inside kept the storm in check. “All of your friends are still here. You haven’t lost anyone. Respectfully, Princess, you do not understand.”
Twilight paused, regarding Misty’s lack of emotion with a creased bow and a frown. “Misty,” she said carefully, “just ‘Twilight’ is fine.”
Silence.
“Misty?”
Finally, Misty spoke. “You’re wrong, Princess Twilight. Goodbyes are not difficult.” She began to leave.
“Misty, wait—”
“Goodbye, Princess,” Misty bade. There was nothing more that needed to be said. Besides, she had more important things to do. The riddle of the Shadowmancer still needed to be solved. Numb and frozen inside, Misty Moonrise turned down the road leading to the Everfree Forest. There were still many books in the Castle of the Two Sisters she had not yet searched. At least no-pony would interrupt her now. At least she could read in peace, in the silence of the Everfree.
Alone.
* * *
