Empty Chairs and Empty Tables
I glance for the twentieth time at the giant pink dome surrounding Canterlot. It’s apparently cast by one unicorn, Captain Shinning Armor. Yeah right. I can barely cast a shield.
Call it fear, but I know whatever threat it’s keeping away is dangerous, even deadly. I don’t know how the nobles are so calm.
“So I said, ‘dearie, what makes you think I care about you?’ and she looked furious. I told her though. No earth pony is going to make it here in fashion.” The current “noble” mare that’s made me angry is a light blue unicorn with darker blue mane. She’s also a customer of the Cozy Canterlot Cafe, so I can’t tell her how I really feel.
“Waitress, dear, please get me more lemon water.” The mare across from her, a light yellow unicorn with a pink mane grins. I want to wring her neck. Instead, I politely smile.
“Of course. Is there anything else you want?” Be polite. Be kind. There are ponies out there that are cruel. Don’t give them the bait they want. Oh, how I want to though.
“Sweet Lemon!” One of the other waiters runs up to me. Clear Water. He looks worried.
“I need you to cover for me. I have to go.”
“Go? Go where?” I ask. It’s the middle of rush hour. We at the cafe need every waiter we can get.
“I have to go.” Oh. So that’s what he means.
“Okay. What tables did you have?” Come on. Not on the patio, not on the patio.
“Tables 10 through 15.” I bite back annoyance. Of course he has to be the one waiter on the staff to be assigned the patio.
“Okay, go. Don’t delay-I’m not covering for you for long.” I’d better not have to.
“Thanks Lemon, you’re a lifesaver.”
“Don’t thank me-go!” I shove him, towards the restroom.
One round of lemon water for the nobles later and I’m ready to cover Clear Water’s route. First, to table 10, where a lone unicorn stallion with a green coat and orange eyes-he asks for more coffee. Then to table 13 where a couple of earth ponies are sitting-they ask for water. Finally it’s to table 14, where a lone pegasus sit.
He has an orange coat and a red mane with yellow highlights. His googles are covered with dirt and his leg-wraps are soaked with sweat. His hair is tied back with green ribbons.
“Hello, welcome to the Cozy Canterlot Cafe. How can I help you?” It’s a familiar phrase I’ve said often.
“I’d like a-” he pauses, “What was that?”
“What?” Then I hear it. Quiet, but growing in noise. A large cracking sound coming from above and a quiet buzzing. Then I look up. It’s-it’s changelings!
My first encounter with changelings was before I had my first friend. It was a sunny day in Rainbow Falls and the traders exchange had only finished a few days before.
As a result, the library had new books. I didn’t always visit the library, but on that day I begged my parents to let me go.
I stepped into the room quietly, trying to avoid the mistake I had made the first time I had gone-squealing loudly when they had the book I wanted. I made my way over to the new books section.
There were many books there, of all shapes and colors, but I was drawn to one with a worn cover and classic binding. Unlike the bindings of newer books, this one was hoof made and very old. It was called “The Wayfarer’s Guide to Magical Creatures and Monsters.”
Excited I had rushed to a table and sat down, eager to read. I flipped through the pages, enjoying the wonderfully done pictures and elegant calligraphy. It wasn’t a book, it was a piece of art.
Then I had flipped to the middle of the book. Then I had jumped back, filled with fear.
The book had a drawing of a changeling-fangs barred staring right out of the book. It may seem silly, but I had run away in terror.
That night, I had nightmares. Then the next night after that, and so on, for weeks and months on end. Each nightmare was the same-my parents being taken by changelings. It ended differently many times-sometimes it was my parents turning into those bugs, sometimes it was my parents being killed. It got so bad I wasn’t able to sleep. It got so bad they had to take me to a physiologist.
It helped. I got better but I had never forgotten. That first day had burned their image and name into my brain. When I was ready to go back to the library, they had taken the book off the shelf.
Now they were back. Not haunting my dreams, but here, in Canterlot. I freeze, old fears resurfacing. I need to move! Have to run! Some habits die hard I guess. A hoof grabs mine.
“Come on!” It’s the orange pegasus. I follow, eager to get away from old fears and changelings.
They’re raining down, almost like reverse fireworks. The fall, plummeting around us. One falls in front of us. I’m paralyzed, but the pegasus bucks him. I grab him and we run. On the ramparts I can see a group of ponies-pink, yellow, white, purple, orange and blue. I wish I was as brave as them but I’m not a hero.
Changelings everywhere. It’s hard to distinguish them from ponies. Green flashes are the only way. I grab the pegasus and turn into an alleyway. Any shortcut to get away.
It’s not a shortcut-it’s a dead end! We turn to get out, but there, advancing on us are three changelings! One of them grins and hisses. I focus on magic. I can still fix this!
Still, my shield flickers. I said I wasn’t good with shields. I need something, anything to bolster it. Then it comes to me. Emotional magic.
It was several years ago. I was a bit older than being a filly. I had finished magic kindergarden and believed I was on my way to becoming a powerful mage. It was before I had my cutie mark and a year before I had nightmares.
“Class, today we are going to learn about the most potent type of magic: Emotional magic. Emotional magic is powerful stuff. It can do things normal magic just can’t both good and bad.
It’s magic based around emotions-Loyalty, Honesty, Generosity, etc, but the most powerful magical emotions are Love and Friendship.”
“Yes, Moonlight Dancer?”
“What about Fear, Anger or Hate?” The teacher’s face had darkened.
“Never ever use dark emotions to fuel a spell. The results are terrible and horrific, breaking pony’s minds forever. Yes Sweet Lemon?”
“Why Love and Friendship?”
“Well, it’s because both of them are usually more than one emotion. For instance, if you have a friendship, you can both be Loyal to it and Generous and giving of your time. Now, to cast an emotional spell, you need either a memory or an event. Events are stronger because they’re not subject to bad memory.”
After a while, I had given up on emotional magic. I just didn’t have strong enough memories to use my emotions to do anything. Soon after that I had become scared and magic had been the least of my concerns.
It could work, right? Use emotional magic? After all, this wasn’t magical kindergarden nor any magical school. Yeah right.
“It will be okay.” I turn to face to orange pegasus. I had been so self-absorbed I hadn’t noticed him. I look at him. It occurred to me that this was not the first time today we had tried to dodge death.
We. I wasn’t in this alone. I grab his hoof-if I’m going to die, I might as well do it while not being alone. He turns and grins. Why is he so happy?
“So, um, if we’re going to die, do you mind anything happening?”
“Uh...no?” The changelings are getting closer. 20. 19. 18. Mmfh! My face is full of orange stallion. He’s kissing me?
Confusion turns to hope. An event with a powerful emotion. Love. Surely that’s impossible though, right? To fall in love in one day? Yet, he...he saved me. He had no reason to...except love.
I attempt my shield, then brace for the changeling impact. Five seconds passes, then ten. What’s taking them so long‽ The stallion gasps and we separate. I turn to ask what’s wrong when I feel the strain.
Above both of us is a perfect shield, aqua-green in color. We’re safe. Then the shield flickers. Beyond it, hungry changelings wait. When-if the shield breaks we’re going to die.
“What’s your name?” I ask. Anything to re-energize the shield. Any bit of love will do.
“Orange Skies. You?” I grin as the magic pulse through my horn. We’ll be fine.
“Sweet Lemon.”
It feels like hours pass. Each small bit of information, joke and laugh helps me to power the shield. Usually I’d pass out before the shield would be completed. Now, I feel confident I could hold the shield for days, even weeks. I hope I don’t have to though. I have energy now, but later? I have no idea.
Suddenly something pink rushes towards us shimmering. I hope it’s something good. I’ve had enough surprises for a week.
It’s good.
It passes through me. The changelings are not so lucky. It feels like every good memory I’ve had, and then some. Whoever is powering this shield is powerful, and using emotions.
The weight of the shield is removed from my horn, now that it’s safe to lower it. Immediately, my vision swims. The ground seems unusually close. Just how much did I push myself?
The weight of the shield is removed from my horn, now that it’s safe to lower it. Immediately, my vision swims. The ground seems unusually close. Just how much did I push myself?
Sweet Lemon collapses. I climb up, eyes wide with fear. She looks unharmed, but I have no idea if the black things did something to her. Right now I want to strangle the universe. Just as I got to experience love, it had to be taken away?
Then calm flows through me. She’s not dead yet. I rush to pick her up, Running faster than I’ve pushed myself in a good while, I hurry to where I see a makeshift hospital of sorts. Each hour waited is another hour lost for her.
The earth pony takes one look at Sweet Lemon and immediately calls her “top priority.” As a non-family member I can only watch as she is take into a carriage and driven to the hospital.
I take my own route to it, biting my lower lip. It feels like not too long ago I was taking the reverse of this path. My wings are flapping, each downbeat lost time to be with her.
I stop to enter the waiting area. It’s jam packed with similarly worried ponies. It’s only been a few minutes and already the injured are flowing in.
“Is she going to be okay?” a young filly tugs at her mom’s leg. At least, I assume that’s her mom.
“Yes, I think so.” That doesn‘t sound good.
I pause, realizing I’m tapping my hoof. Quickly I stop. It’s always annoyed somepony in the past.
People shuffle in. Finally, the unicorn at the front desk, Well Wishes speaks up.
“I’m sorry everypony, but we need the space and this room has more than enough. You’ll have to go home. You can visit in a few days.” A few days. I’ll be there when Lemon wakes up, I swear.
A day has past, but it feels like so much more time. Lemon’s still in the hospital. It’s taking all my strength to focus on the the task at hand, rather than her yellow body which last I saw was being taken to the hospital.
“Orange-hey Skies!” One of the other weather team members, Bright Lights waves his hoof in front of my eyes. I was spaced out? I never lose focus on the job, it’s my favorite. Managing the weather can be fun.
“We’re breaking for lunch. You coming?” I grin, though it’s rather forced.
“Sure. Coming!” Despite my efforts, the melancholy is still audible.
I flap my wings showily as I land. I actually don’t need to flare them out as much as I do, but I like the appearance it gives to landing.
Lunch is slow. I would go to the Cozy Cafe, but I can’t go there without feeling...empty because Lemon isn’t there. It’s been rather quiet lately. The whole city is mourning and rebuilding. I’ve become less focused lately. I’m not the only one either.
All of us know someone who was injured or...worse.
I shift on the cloud I’m on. It’s the only one that hasn’t been cleared yet. What can I say? Pegasi like heights.
The second, real wedding is being prepared now. The date has been set for two weeks from now, resulting in lots of chaos. That and the city is being repaired at the same time. I don’t know what idiot thought planning all of the stuff at the same time was, but I want to smack them.
It’s hard to clear the dust made from rebuilding. The stuff is nasty, and it doesn’t work like to normal clouds. It’s too thin to buck but we have to clear it anyways. That stuff would be the thing of nightmares if I didn’t already have some.
They come every night. They’re not always the same thing, but they always share some similar themes. Changelings, that’s what those black things are called, loss of family, Lemon...dying. It’s not just nightmares, it’s also memories. The attack, Lemon’s shield, her fainting. Some nights, I just can’t sleep, for fear of nightmares.
“Orange! Come sit over here!” Another worker, Azure Sky waves. She’s naturally cheerful, but I can still she isn’t quite as happy as she ought to be. The attack’s toll is heavy.
“No change.” The world spins above me. Something feels terribly wrong.
“Nurse! Come quick! She’s waking!” The voice calls. Slowly, I peel my blue-green eyes open. I blink. The light is blinding.
Then my heart quickens and I jolt up. The attack! We were running!
“Orange!” I reach my hoof out. The nurse runs over, clearly worried. She grabs my hoof and lowers it to my bed.
“There, there, dearie. Everything is fine.” Is it?
“How-” I cough, “long have I been out? Where’s my uniform?” Indeed the familiar black vest, white shirt and black bow tie are all missing. Instead a flimsy gown covers my coat.
“You’ve been out for less than a day. As for your uniform, it’s here.” There on chair it sits.
“Thank goodness. What happened?” The door opens and a doctor steps in.
“Ah. Doctor Spirit. I’ll let you answer her question.” The pony in the doorway steps in even as the nurse steps out.
“Well, Miss Lemon, that is a good question. Those black creatures-”
“-were changelings. I know. I wasn’t asking about them.” I state “I was asking about myself. Why did I get knocked unconscious?”
“Ah. Now that is a question that requires a long answer. Due to the nature of your injury, a horn fracture due to magical stress, you suffered head trauma. Luckily, it was only moderate and is recoverable.
You’ll probably have to go through a short period of rehabilitation, but it shouldn’t be too bad. You have a good group of family and friends who will help. There is one problem though.”
“What is it?”
“Well, your horn has been put in a cast, but you can’t use it.”
“So what?”
“In other words, that means you can’t use magic, likely for a few month, even a year if you’re unlucky.”
A week has past. Sleep is...better, but not perfect. Worries still hang above me. It doesn’t help that I still haven’t seen Lemon. I visit the Cafe a lot now. I’m defiantly a reoccurring patron. It helps that they have good food always, even without Lemon. Can’t believe I don’t have a way to contact her. Seriously, how could I have been more dumb?
I told her plenty about me, but I didn’t tell her anything about how to contact me. Idiot.
“Hello! Do you need anything?” I turn, knowing all too well it’s not Lemon.
“No, I’m good.” I pause, staring out at the street where carriages and ponies move. It’s vibrant, joyful and busy, the way the original wedding should have been but wasn’t.
It’s a very old street and yet all the houses are at least partially new. This street was hit hard. A bit of dust still lingers, even with all the effort me and the other weather team members have done. Someponies have taken to carrying fans, which are “all the rage.” Only because there’s dust everywhere!
Most people are happy! There was a huge release of patients today. I know, because I watched several of them come out. Not all at once, mind you but more as a slow trickle.
Not one of them was Lemon, at least, as far as I know. I still have yet to see her. It’s nerve-wracking. I wish I knew how she was doing.
I skip into work, grinning. It’s good to be back. I was released last night. I’m not sure if that’s standard procedure, but it was good for me. Rehabilitation was fine.
Strawberry Cake, the receptionist, looks up and waves.
“Hey look who’s here! Good timing. We need more ponies for the lunch rush. Hey, can you work with that...thing on your head?”
“Yeah, I can work with the cast on my head. Don’t worry. Lunch rush you say?” I walk up next to her, “Where do you need me?”
“Can you cover Tables 10 through 15?” Patio.
“Uh, sure. Clear Water is...”
“Filly’s room.” Oh.
“Again?” Just like a giant loop...
“What?”
I grin, turning before dashing out the door, “Had to be there.” I spin and push the door open, squinted for a bit in the sun. I skid up the first patron, close my eyes, and let the familiar phrase take over.
“Hello, welcome to the Cozy Canterlot Cafe. How can I help you?”
“I’d like a-” he stops and I grin, “Lemon!”
“Just a lemon?” It’s Orange Skies. He burst out laughing.
“Well, if she’ll have me, yes.” I blush.
“Then you’ll just have wait a bit.” Not yet. I’m not ready.
“That’s fine.”
