Twilight Blue

by Wing Dancer

Rating: teen
Tags: Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 1087

Appreciating the sky

In the sky above the sky, there is tranquility

Published 2016-11-30 00:00:01 UTC
Last updated 2016-11-30 00:00:01 UTC

Sky

Twilight blue. It was the color of the sky, right above the silky carpet of summer clouds. The sun hung high above it’s white herd, basking it in warm love to stave off the chilly breeze. This high up, few pegasi had the courage to disrupt the beauty of nature, leaving it untamed and at peace. Without artificial guidance, the clouds swirled and melded, parted ways only to embrace one another a short distance away.

A blurred shadow skimmed across the white surfaces, moving with the ebb and flow of the thin breezes, delicately tracing the outlines of the fluffy herds. The interloper’s mighty wings were stretched, near immobile, his entire body a leaf to be guided by the natural balance of the stratosphere. As the wind nudged him softly here and there, he obeyed and followed, partaking in the subtle dance of the sky above the sky. Even though his ears could not hear the tune, his feathered wings were as strings to the gusts caressing his form. Listening deep inside himself, the sole flier could touch upon natural harmony not witnessed by many, even zebrican shamans with their herbs and concoctions.

The stranger’s goggled face tilted upwards, to where the blue horizon ended and the starry night begun. The view took away his breath, more so than the lack of breathable air. It was a place where the day and night met and existed as one - Celestia’s sun shone at his back, surrounded by Luna’s many sparkling stars. Looking up, one might’ve wondered how even the alicorns of night and day had no power over this place. Or maybe they understood it and desired to respect it’s peace?

The sky dance’s rhythm changed, drawing circles in the clouds, swirling and shaping it’s cotton toys into towers of white. The stranger obeyed the change with a serene smile, angling his mighty wings to better observe one such mass arise and fall, reforming again as if pushed by a wave from below. Sometimes, such a wave would spill over the cloudy edge, plummeting down dangerously only to be caught by the watchful windy shepard. Bouncing and bobbing, the stray tufts of white were guided to their herd, only to resume their wavy journey to yet another cottony cliff.

One such bouncy wave jumped over to the white canvas below the gryphon. Without much haste, the clouds rolled out of the way, scattering playfully like a pond disturbed by rain, revealing the ground below. In the sky above the sky, the homelands seemed so small and distant. Even his mighty Gryphonia was but a greenish dot surrounded by deep oceanic blue. Here there were no loud cocks, no ranks or rituals. The troubles of the below did not reach this serene place. Here he came to rest and listen to nature as it was, not as the ponies or gryphons wanted it to be.

The gryphon allowed himself to float lower, right above the silky smooth white surface. It shone with the reflection of the sun, nearly blinding him despite his protective goggles. As if reaching out to him, whisps of clouds licked at him, curiously prodding at his feathers and puffy coat. The cock gingerly outstretched his paw, mere inches above the pearlescent carpet, letting the tendrils kiss at it, as if greeting a dear friend. That’s right - there was no prejudice, no protocols way up here. Sky magic by its very nature was friendly and cheerful. How else could it dance and play to the music of the wind?

The inaudible symphony of the stratosphere changed yet again, picking up the tempo, the clouds now racing below him. The gryphon angled his wings and felt the breeze push up against his feathers, propelling him effortlessly to gain altitude and follow. The white herd danced and skipped the twilight sky, some in a rush, others lazing about. They bumped and poked one another, spinning away from their herds to join others seamlessly. The windy shepherd drove them away from the sun, leaving it behind to sink into the twilight blue.

The gryphon rocked this way and that, following the patterns the sky laid out for him, his wings never giving a beat. Only by truly letting go could he be accepted and guided by the stratosphere. Not many ponies, or even gryphons, came this high up. They could not control, they could not breathe, they could not fight to disrupt the near sacred peace of this place. It was magic as ancient as that at the core of the earth - the primal driving force that kept the world going. As with all things old, it was simple and unyielding, there for the world to be experienced, not reigned in.

As the travellers sped along their twilight path, many more stars came out to cheer on their journey. Soon, the moon started shyly peeking on the gryphon’s right. A pleasant chill crept into his body, a welcome change from the sun’s intense gaze. As the temperature changed, so did the clouds below. They huddled together closely, slowing down, as if drowsy from the day’s activities. Some of them still nudged and spun, acting like chicks shortly before bedtime.

Eventually, the breeze tapered off, letting the fluff below settle comfortably with one another. The rowdy ones rejoined their herds, rocking them into sleepy hugs, announcing to the world below that their journey for the day was done. The gryphon above flew in a wide circle, observing the clouds alongside the stars.

With a slight creak, the mighty wings of the beaked stranger closed. The land below called to him and, ever so slowly, he began his descent. He dove away from the sleepy white herd, admiring it one last time before his reality would grasp him in it’s talons again.

He liked this place. A place where there was no conflict, no war, no deceit. His serene hiding place, one that kept him safe. Would he be blessed enough to be able to come back and witness the sky’s dance once more? Time would only tell. Down below, where honor drew blood and monarchs ruled over nature, he had a duty to fulfill.

Down into Equestria he dove, under the guise of night, the silver of his bladed wings glittering in the dark.

Author's Note

Story conceived while listening to chillstep

I hope to warm myself up to continue writing, especially the stories that have been on hiatus for way too long...