Her head pounded in the dark. Really though, the night didn't seem effective at calling the shadows here. The walls were an inky blue, yet crystal-veined and shimmering with what moonlight pierced the veil of clouds outside. If the sky were an ocean reflected into a geode, it would probably look something like this. It was annoyingly bright to her migraine, so Starling hated it.

Tossing and turning in the bed didn't help, even with the mattress not too soft or too firm. The quilt was too thin even if it warmed her. It made no difference to how vulnerable she felt.

Outside she looked like a pony, a mare whose face she didn't recognize when she looked in the mirror. But inside, Starling knew she was a pitiful, slimy, crawly thing with too many legs and feelers. All she was amounted to being sensitive and weak. Even her own body rebelled against her from time to time.

Starling curled her ears flat against her skull and closed her eyes. But without the ability to sleep, she resorted to daydreaming.

Every colt and filly, growing up, could admit to at least once pretending to be an alicorn, or so she believed. Starling wasn't an exception, even if she was a tad too old. It was perfectly rational just why, however - she knew that despite ponies being a prey species, there was still an innate need for control necessary for comfort. Starling had been deprived of that, so there it was.

The appeals beyond that were glamorous. Immortality and power, the ability to have all the time in the world to do whatever it was one pleased. Being an alicorn also meant royal prestige, and the drama along with that - to the point of being a fictionalized phenomenon, making best-sellers nationwide. There were always coups and conspiracies going on at court. Somepony was always trying to decipher what made alicorns ascend. It all went with the dark romances with lost princes or handsome mages. Sometimes there was an occasional lost civilization, equinologically inaccurate of course. Starling wasn't actually a fan of all that, preferring peace and quiet.

Her heartbeat snapped. Were those very stories connected to what were causing the princess so much anxiety? Didn't she know better?

But wait, Starling thought. Twilight had referred to historical documents. That could be anything from political treatises to servants' diaries. Her head lowered back to the pillow, sighing, not able to grasp the issue from her perspective.

Starling consciously focused on relaxing all of her muscles while she visualized still water. After that, her thoughts drifted.

Starling's alicorn-sona, existing as it were as an abstract idea, was faceless and talent-less. Whatever it could do varied by day and mood. Sometimes when she was being reflective, it helped her tackle problems.

Tonight, this alternative to herself had been a former seapony, who was succumbing to illness. The healer gave her the ultimatum - repent from a lifetime of reaving and blood-magic, and find a cure, or die a demon...

... Nevermind, that idea was too mentally-taxing to imagine from a first-person perspective. She hadn't even known how it would have turned out.

Starling re-settled in the bed, her body in knots regardless. She kept her eyes shut until the migraine brought forth dizzying, flickering lights behind her lids. She opened them and puffed air in annoyance.

The pony could still feel the rocks under her hooves. The wind was in her face and eyes, deafening and blinding. A gentle breeze was nothing like the endless blur of cats claws she'd suffered, the mountain air cutting at her hide. Even after the hot bath, her body still felt clammy and numb as if the rain had never stopped, or the soggy clothes had never left. The only difference was her cuts burned and the wounds in her hooves felt lighter from being cleaned-

-And Nico was gone. Starling wanted to be gutted for thinking about that.

Those big, trusting eyes. Her soft fur always hiding her whispery purring. Nico's little kneading paws, the same ones always following her around.

Starling's heart twisted.

Gone. Gone down the mountain. Lost in the weather, vanished into the wilderness for good. Nico's body, broken and bloody, fallen on rocks or drowning in mud. All the scenarios springing to mind, the details didn't matter. It'd be her fault it happened, either way.

Starling had been stupid. Stupid! What was worse than being called an idiot? She wanted to know so she could use that word.

Celestia. She'd just wanted to start over, just... Have a good life.

Heat prickled her eyes and neck. Starling curled into a ball to conserve heat, pulled the covers tight.

So much for that to matter, though. Two bits for the pity-party. A bad decision was her responsibility, she knew, even if it hurt. An impulsive decision, especially.

Starling cried silently nonetheless, thinking all the while.

She couldn't stay there, but she couldn't walk back up to Canterlot either. Not if Nico had died. There couldn't be sacrifices in vain.

But the question was, would she tell this to Twilight? Could she ask for help - and get it, if she admitted she was just a selfish, impulsive, over-emotional mare?

Wait, she thought. There were two questions there. One was whether or not to tell Twilight anything, of course. But what would she do if she were found? Could she really have a new living just under Canterlot's nose?

Starling sighed. Probably not, but she could try.

Hiding places were the trick, she thought with resolution. Ways to be un-found, naturally were the greatest power for an insect.

Maybe she'd even change her name?

One thing for sure - if Starling could have done anything, she would have come here much earlier in the day. Earlier in the year than this too if she could help it.

Twilight Sparkle had been curiously open with her. That was a good sign, right? Maybe that meant Ponyville was different.

Her eyes eventually drifted closed. The void was invited to consume her, and eventually it did.

Spike peeked into the dark bedroom before withdrawing his head and turning back to Twilight, who stood there with a tired-but-happy looking Applejack at her side.

“She’s still asleep,” Spike reported.

“But it’s been two days!” Twilight exclaimed. “Is she all right?”

“Relax, Twi,” Applejack said, laying a hoof on her friend. “If’n this gal did whut you said she did, she might jus’ be a mite too tired to wake up is all. Shucks, Ah remember a year, way back when Big Mac had jus’ hit puberty. He cleared out half the field before konkin’ out for a week, an’ the Doc said nothin’ was wrong, ‘cept he burned himself out.”

“But that’s not entirely it,” Twilight said. “Applejack, I’m not even sure she was telling the truth.”

Applejack furrowed her brow. “Now hold on. Why did you even want me ta meet her to begin with? So Ah’d see somethin’ ya didn’t?”

“Yes!” Twilight cried. “Applejack, that’s exactly it, and more - but - um, yes.” Her ears drooped.

Applejack sighed and fiddled at the brim of her hat, adjusting it lower over her eyes. “Well I cain’t say Ah’m happy by that, Twi, but you seem awfully spooked fer this ta be jus’ a random house-guest. And I trust yer senses. So what’s really buggin’ at you, sugarcube?”

While Twilight conjured a scroll from thin air and levitated it over to Applejack to read, Spike peeked into the bedroom again, where nothing stirred.

“Star’s not dead, is she?” Spike asked. He was immediately hushed by Twilight, and when he turned to see why, he saw Applejack scowling at the letter, before going pale.

“Well, Celestia’s sayin’ a pony by the name of Starlin’ jumped off Canterlot after makin’ a scene, an’ was presumed dead,” Applejack said softly. “No body was recovered, but she… ah, Twi? Is all this right n’ accurate? Canterlot has gargoyles?”

“And a subspecies of quarry eel we’ve taken to calling Fred,” Twilight answered quietly. “But yes, Canterlot has gargoyles. They’re rarely seen, wingless, and live in the catacombs under the city. They’re even considered honorary citizens, since they helped with the mining back when Canterlot was first beginning. But while they eat minerals, they also regularly scavenge from, ah... carcasses.”

Applejack swallowed audibly. “So, sometimes bodies jus’ go up an’ missin’. Good ta know.”

Twilight exhaled and nodded at the unpleasant fact, swallowing as well before gesturing with a hoof. “It’s clear Starling survived somehow, and was even able to sneak back home after the incident. Even if the entire thing was staged, it just doesn’t sit right with me.”

“Ah agree,” Applejack said. “It’s pretty suspicious fer a mare ta want t’ fake her own death.”

“All she’s told me, is she wants to make a fresh start,” Twilight said quietly. “I just can’t figure out what she could be running from.”

“And she’s not a spy,” Spike interjected. “I checked, she just had normal-looking stuff in her bag.”

Applejack looked at Spike, smiling thinly and nodding at that, before looking between the dragon and Twilight. “Do ya know if Celestia’s told the parents yet? How their daughter ain’t dead?”

Twilight shook her head. “Celestia suggested we learned the story from Starling herself, before anything was made public. Right now our friend is considered missing, and under investigation.”

Applejack nodded. “Ah reckon “missin’” is loads easier ta take, than “dead”. Ah cain’t imagine how her folks must be feelin’. So what’s my role in this gonna be?”

Twilight’s expression was hesitant and uncomfortable. “Well, if Starling doesn’t wake up after another thirty-minutes, I’d like it if you could help me take her to the hospital. And… Hey, AJ?”

There was a pregnant pause where the two mares looked at each other.

Applejack was the first to smile, tilting her head. “Yes, Twiligh’?”

“Do you want to help me scare off some noble-ponies and tourists?” Twilight asked, her mouth twitching with uncertainty. “Not that you have to. They’ve been asking some fairly inappropriate and uncomfortable questions as of late.”

Applejack’s brow knit. “Ah didn’ realize things were so chaotic fer you.”

Twilight rolled her eyes and chuckled nervously. “Ahaha, yes, well. It’s just the celebration attracting attention, is all.” She gave her wings a few short, anxious flaps. “Can you believe I was asked if Ponyville hosting the Winter Moon Festival was so that I could usurp the throne as the next Nightmare Moon?”

Applejack laughed hard at that, but then the sound tapered swiftly into a razor-edged chuckle before dying with a dry, “hah.” The pony scowled. “That’s mighty upsettin’ an’ full o’ horseapples, Twi. Folk shouldn’ call things lacke that jokes, not when Luna’s still sensitive about it.” She stomped a hoof on the floor.

Twilight smiled and exhaled relief, although her expression was still grave. “I know, which is why all of this must be under control before the Festival starts properly in a week. Otherwise who knows what they’ll say to her, or what could happen.”

Author's Note

Consider this an interlude before a great deal of world-building. Edited some details of dialogue. Should I add more?