Author's Note
The following story was originally written as a secret satan gift for Aragon as part of Obselescence's Jingle Fic thing.
Originally I was going to write a typical feel-good story about love and life and happiness and then I found out that Aragon hates Christmas and I hate writing feelgood puff pieces anyway so I wrote this instead.
Thanks for reading.
Thank you to Petrichord for the pre-read.
Snowfall
It had been some time since the snow fell, and the end was not in sight.
Like a blanket of wool, ashen-grey flakes coated the horizon, creating a vista of uniform blandness that stretched from pole to pole; along every boundary; over every inch of the world that was once Equestria.
And still, down it poured, from a place unknowable, unaffected by the wind and unconcerned with the weather – like a gentle dusting upon the landscape, it swallowed everything up in its ever-growing fleece.
Across the rolling grey mountains, a figure trudged, stepping through crisp and crunchy layers with tightly-wrapped shards of cloth and fabric: boots that worked in a pinch. The character was covered with drapery that matched: loose pieces of thick wool bound on roughly by rope. A pair of goggles covered misty eyes, and a filtered mask covered pursed lips.
She climbed, rolled and clambered, passing by small tufts of green that poked their way out of the snow like abandoned lampposts. She stood atop the very canopy of what was once a great forest. Perhaps it was the Whitetail. Perhaps it was the Everfree. But tales of woods bore no meaning any longer, none in this harsh landscape.
Against a pure sky of white, she pushed up a final, steep hill, hooves sinking into thick, dry powder, and made her way to The Final Green.
It was the last tree in Equestria.
At least, it was the last one they knew about.
The great Oak had defied its fate by being the sole tree that grew on the top of what used to be the tallest hill under Canterlot, where it had grown for hundreds of years unhindered by competition.
Its wide branches and thick foliage blocked out the sun, and was more than sufficient to block anything else.
One day, the snow would catch up. But that day was yet to come.
Pinkie Pie stopped under the great boughs of The Final Green, rubbing her hoof on the grass that still showed under the tree’s protection. She tore off her mask and goggles and loosened the bindings from her head, giving it a few swift shakes to bring her hair back to normal.
She looked out over the landscape.
Here and there, smoke rose in black columns where towns and cities used to be. There was still life amidst the chaos. There were still ponies fighting back. Behind her loomed Canterlot Mountain, still above the mess, but still coated in nefarious grey snow. To the West were the remains of Cloudsdale after it crashed a few years ago. And to the East.... well, there was never much there to begin with.
Pinkie forced herself to smile.
She sat down, under the shade of The Final Green, humming a wordless tune, rocking back and forth.
Her bindings were itchy, hot and uncomfortable. But it was far too troublesome to take it all off. If there were one thing she hoped for – one possible benefit from the entire situation – it was the vain hope that this snow, in some form or otherwise, was in any way cold.
But it didn’t afford her even that much.
She chuckled aimlessly at the irony, as a bead of sweat hung off the tip of her nose.
She batted it away.
From across where Pinkie sat came another figure, stepping heavily, stepping with purpose, as this figure pulled leg after leg through the thick grey sheets, struggling like a child trying to wade through dry oatmeal. This figure was dressed in proper boots and a cloak – something roomy and breathable; something that allowed her to move. This figure wore a blue skin-tight mask over her face, with the regular goggles and breather worn over it. This figure stopped at the very edge of the clearing, coming to rest where the snow stopped and the grass began.
Pinkie Pie watched with mute rapture.
The figure jumped up and down a few times, shaking off snow like a dog coming out of the rain, pulling her goggles and face-kit down to her neck.
“Hi, Rainbow,” Pinkie said, the moment giving her smile reason to turn genuine.
“Hey, girl,” Rainbow replied grumpily, as she started to pace around the tree, marking out her boundaries as the years taught her to do. “First here again, huh.”
“Every year.”
“And the others, late as always, huh?”
“Every year.”
“Why do I even bother?”
“Same reason I do, silly.”
Rainbow stopped circling and turned to look at Pinkie. She hadn’t stopped staring at Dash since the moment she arrived.
The corner of Dash’s mouth turned up slightly before dropping again.
“Aw,” Pinkie muttered, eyes dropping back down to the ground in front of her. “Thought we were gonna have one this year.”
“It gets harder each time, Pinkie.”
“I know!” Pinkie grinned. “Which is why we should never stop! Because the moment we stop, it’s just the same as giving up!”
Dash stepped forward, staring at Pinkie down the narrow length of her muzzle.
“Heh. It’s good to see you, Pinkie Pie.”
“Yeah. It’s always good to see me. How’s things going on your side?” Pinkie shuffled over: a pointless gestures as there was ample space. But it was a gesture accepted regardless, as Rainbow settled herself down next to her friend in a tired heap.
Both of them stared out into the torrential wasteland for a moment.
“Is there even a point?” Rainbow asked.
“Hm?” Pinkie looked over.
“This has been going on for, what, five years? Six? I don’t even know anymore. And there’s nothing left. Nothing. I mean, everything’s gone, Pinkie. The Pegasi can’t fly in this. Magic’s all weird now. Happiness is gone. Life is gone. Doesn’t that cross your mind?”
“Why, Rainbow. If I didn’t know better, I’d almost think you were actually musing on things.” Pinkie giggled.
“Oh, shut up.”
Pinkie dropped into a hum.
“You know, sometimes, eternal optimism isn’t always the solution,” Rainbow shot out.
“Oh, but I usually have reason to be optimistic nowadays,” Pinkie countered jovially.
“Yeah? What about?”
“Well, I know your section’s too far out, but news got to me a couple months ago that Twilight finally found a way to break through the snow, and maybe, maybe, she found a way to counter it somewhat.”
“Counter? What do you mean counter? You can’t counter this stuff! This stuff makes no sense to begin with! No amount of magic in the world could possibly–”
“Well, listen, listen,” Pinkie lilted. “I mean, as you said, this stuff makes no sense, right? So what’s the opposite of that?”
“The opposite of…?”
“No sense.”
“Uh…”
“Go on.”
“Sense?” Rainbow raised an eyebrow.
“Right.” Pinkie clapped her hooves together. “Logic. Smart stuff. Well, Twilight has found a way to turn that into a kind of weird liquid form.”
“She what?”
“Liquid logic.”
“She what?”
“And that’s something to be optimistic about!” Pinkie giggled again.
“No, no. Wait. Back up.” Rainbow held her hooves out in front of her. “That… she made logic into a liquid? How? And how did she find a way to do this without magic?”
“I dunno, I just heard it.”
“No, but like, logic isn’t even a thing. The whole thing by itself is kinda… you know… nonsensical in the first place!”
“Well, maybe that was the problem?” Pinkie shrugged.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, for all this time we’ve been trying to find a solution that works by our understanding. But obviously this stuff… whatever it is, doesn’t want to. I guess Twilight finally decided to actually learn the rules.”
“But still… I mean… do you understand why I’m having trouble with this idea?”
Pinkie nodded. “Sure, but you asked me what I was optimistic about. And that’s that. Besides… Look.”
“What am I looking at?”
Pinkie raised a hoof toward a small thin stream of black smoke rising through the air from the vicinity of what used to be Trottingham.
“Yeah?”
“That’s Rarity’s district. She was given the stuff to work with first as a trial run, so I hear. That smoke means that the snow’s being burnt.”
“Burnt?”
“Or so I hear,” Pinkie reaffirmed.
“It doesn't even melt, how does it b– you know what,” Dash shook her head, rubbing her temple with a gloved hoof, “I don’t even want to know. When the others get here, they can explain it themselves.”
“I’m sure they can. When they get here, that is.”
“When they get here,” Rainbow echoed.
“Mmm,” Pinkie hummed.
“They’re always late.”
“Not always!”
“Always.”
When the two stopped talking, all sound disappeared. There was nothing else to fill in the void for miles around. The snow fell silently, and anything else that might lend a voice had long since been buried.
Not even the wind filled the emptiness with its pining.
Each shuffle and shake of Rainbow Dash, caught up in her suit, wings struggling against their bindings, was clear. Every movement of Pinkie’s as she turned left and right to look for her other friends was like a broadcast to the world.
“Hey,” Rainbow said.
The snow continued to fall.
“Yeah?” Pinkie responded.
“Do you ever miss him?”
Pinkie stared at the flat grey landscape beyond. “Well. That’s a rather curious thing for you to be asking!”
“Just answer the question, damnit.”
“I mean, that’s not an easy question, is it?” Cloth shuffled as bodies moved in discomfort.
“No. But that’s why I’m askin’. I’m no good at figuring stuff out.”
“I think Twilight and Flutters miss him the most, really. He was pretty sweet on Fluts, and I think he was really coming along with his reformation before he died. Twilight’s probably just disappointed, really.”
“Yeah but… every year I think about it, and every year I wonder. Did he do the right thing?”
“I think he did what he wanted to. I’d have done the same. Wouldn’t you have?”
“Yeah, I mean. Any of us probably would. Maybe not Rarity.”
Pinkie snerked.
“Yeah, no,” Dash continued. “But I mean, he died to save us, and now this is the result.”
“Not like he knew this would happen! Not like any of us knew!”
“And now things are… wrong. Things are different.” Dash sighed.
“Yeah, but at least he defeated the big bad, right? At the very least, now we know what happens when a chaos spirit sacrifices himself and scatters himself all over the world!”
“Bad things. Bad, bad things.” Dash replied dryly.
“Bad things!” Pinkie echoed.
“I just kinda feel like I want to say I miss him, but I also feel that this kinda really sucks.”
“Well, you can feel both, you know.”
Another bout of silence passed by the hill.
“Yeah,” Dash said.
She sighed.
She scratched her head while Pinkie watched bemusedly, a soft smile on her face.
“Do you ever miss the times when we just sort of fought bad guys and no one had to die?”
“That was a while ago.”
“I kinda miss that. I miss when things were interesting and different and… I dunno. Colourful, I guess. I miss colour. I miss Ponyville. I miss just hanging out. I miss not having so much responsibility. I miss…”
“Tons of stuff, huh.”
“Tons of stuff.”
“But at least there’s hope, right?” Pinkie pointed to the smoke in the distance.
“Yeah, I guess so. And then maybe things will finally go back to normal.”
“That’d be nice, wouldn’t it?” Pinkie grinned. “Maybe you’ll smile again.”
“Yeah, maybe I will. I sure miss that too,” Dash said grumpily.
“And if not, there’s always this to look forward to every year.” Pinkie twirled her hoof around in the air.
“Yeah. I guess.”
“You guess?”
“Yeah, I mean…” Dash shuffled uncomfortably. “I don’t mean to sound ungrateful or anything, but what do we do? We meet here, gathering around the last damn tree in Equestria once a year, and for what? Eat a bit of food, talk about stuff… and go back to that. All that grey. And every day that isn’t today is the same.”
“That’s how it is, isn’t it?”
“I guess what I mean is that… I’d rather live in a world where I didn’t have to do this every year.”
“Yeah. I know what you mean.” Pinkie’s smile dropped as she nodded her head. “But right now? It’s all we have. Maybe it will change in the future. Maybe it won’t. But right now, it’s all we have.”
“Heh.” Dash chuckled, almost laughing.
Pinkie raised a tired eyebrow.
“‘Maybe’, huh?” Dash pointed out. “What happened to your unbridled optimism?”
“Sometimes eternal optimism isn’t the solution,” Pinkie replied, closing her eyes and leaning back against the cool bark of the tree.
Up above, a bird chirped, like a siren blasting out through the nothingness.
The two of them looked up, trying to find it amongst the branches.
They failed,
But it was there. Somewhere.
Or maybe it was just a phantom, lost to the world.
“Guess we just wait now, huh?” Dash said.
“Yeah. They’ll be here soon.”
“They’re always late, though,” Dash said.
“Always late,” echoed Pinkie, as she started to daydream.
