//-------------------------------------------------------//
                      A Pony Palette                       
                     -by Sentinel3RA-                      
//-------------------------------------------------------//
//-------------------------------------------------------//
                          Chamber                          
//-------------------------------------------------------//
Chamber
A Pony Palette
Short Stories for the Mane Six
Chamber
September.  Another month of good cheer.  It was the month of cool breezes on the back of the summer heat.  The Apple family would already be hard at work planning the next Iron Pony competition.  Pinkie’s parties would burst with the coming autumn colors.  The changing weather would necessitate a new line of cold-weather clothing, making Rarity right at home.  Rainbow Dash would emerge from the Everfree with a hair-raising tale of recently racing another timberwolf.  Fluttershy would be singing her soft goodbyes to her beloved birds, starting south ahead of the cold.
September would usher in a new season of adventures.  There would be new places to explore, new ponies - and non-ponies - to meet.  New lessons to learn.  New friendships to make, and old friendships to renew.  Life was a book - a really good book - that added an extra chapter every day.
Today, the air was still.  The magic map, the map that would send them all on to new chapters, was still.  The encircling thrones - the thrones of her friends - were still.  Empty.
Overhead, from the ceiling her castle, the chandelier, the recovered roots of the Golden Oak library, hung in silence.  Dangling from them, reflecting the noonday sun that bled through the windows, were crystallized memories.  They made a picture-book of every chapter in Twilight’s life, since her arrival in Ponyville just two years ago.  They turned, slowly, suspended.
There was the moment they saved Luna from Nightmare Moon.  Two memories behind it was her brother’s wedding day - the day her beloved foal-sitter became her sister.  Above that, encased in amber - or perhaps topaz, she couldn’t tell - was Cranky and Matilda’s wedding.  Everypony in the town had gathered to see it.
“Twilight?”
She started at the soft voice, just a little.  Spike was next to her.  He was looking up at her.  Searching her face.
“Hey, Spike,” Twilight soothed.  She faced him, smiling.
“Are you okay, Twilight?”
What?  “I think so,” Twilight said, “There’s . . . no reason not to be.”
“No, there’s not,” Spike agreed.  He rubbed the back of his head.  “But . . . I don’t know, are you sure?  You’ve been standing here for a long time.”
“I’m just thinking, Spike,” Twilight chuckled, “I’m fine.  Really.”  Her gaze wandered.
Twilight stepped away, into the circle of thrones she shared with her friends.  She floated over to her own.  A throne with her cutie mark: a six-pointed star, with five others in its orbit.  She chuckled.
She touched the arm rest.  It was a crystal throne.  It shone in the chandelier light - frosted sapphire, smoother than glass.  Twilight ran her hoof down to the backrest, and let it drop again.
“Twilight?”
Twilight turned, smiling again as Spike scampered up to her.  “Yes, Spike?”
Spike stopped, toying with his claws.  “You were standing there for two hours.”
Twilight’s reaction was puzzling.  She half-opened her mouth, stopped, then looked down and away.  Her smile was gone.
“Is there anything I can get you?” Spike asked, “A new book, maybe?”
There was a small, stiff shake to Twilight’s head.
“Did something happen?”
“Nothing recently, no,” Twilight murmured.
“Then what’s going on?  I mean, I get you’re a really deep thinker, but you usually have at least a notepad out by now.”
There was a delicate chuckle from Twilight.  She looked up at Spike without moving her head, repaying his efforts with a mild smirk.  Her brow furrowed, though.
“You’re a good friend, Spike,” she murmured.  “You all are.”
Her last words trailed away.  She moved to be close to Spike and sat down on the floor.  Spike saw her folded alicorn wings stretch and tense a few times.
“I couldn’t tell you what I’m thinking if I tried to, Spike,” she said.  Her voice was hushed, almost strained.  “I don’t really know, myself.”
Dragons are stubborn things, of course.  Spike sat beside her.  “Try.”
Twilight marked him with a cautious glance.  For a heartbeat, she was absolutely still.  She might have even stopped breathing.  It just gave her more time to formulate an answer.
“They’re all gone,” she breathed.
“Your friends?”
“No, th — well, they are, but that’s not what I . . . meant.”  Her gaze returned to the crystals dangling from the chandelier.  “All those moments.  Time passes so quickly. . .  Maybe it is, in a way.”
Twilight paused.  She rubbed her eyes.
“I hope they get back soon,” she murmured, “Then things will start making sense again.  But that would mean they . . . No . . . I hope they’re having fun.”
The alicorn princess heaved a sigh, and arose.  She kept her head bowed, eyes angled to the floor, as she plodded out of the map room.  Spike stood and stared after her, waiting for her to say something more.  Just at the threshold of the chamber, she stopped and looked back at him, a weary smile gracing her features.
“You coming?”
“Uh, yeah!” Spike piped.  He scampered up to her under a thankful gaze.  Maybe she even chuckled, he couldn’t tell.  “So, where are we going?”
“For a walk,” Twilight said, “I need to clear my head.  Maybe we’ll stop somewhere for treat.  Do you like onyx?”
“Can’t say I’ve tried it before,” Spike replied.
“It’s on the to-do list, then.”