On the Edge of a Cliff
She stood, waiting, watching, stumbling, musing; all of these together and none of them at all, perched on the edge of a cliff where the wind danced through her rough-shod mane that flickered like so many fires put out by their airy nemesis.
There was a line somewhere under her hooves where the ground ended, and beyond, nothing but pure air welcomed her. It was a drop straight down that went on forever, but so too did the skies above her head fade onward into eternity.
To fly.
Or to fall.
The only difference, she figured, was where you ended up after the jump.
The Pegasus, coat melding into the tangerine tones of the evening sun, swallowed hard, trickles of moisture easing the dryness in her throat. She had been standing there for quite a while now, her mind emptying as the minutes passed. Even the cool breeze and gentle sun couldn't divert the dulling of the acuity on her skin and in her thoughts.
It had all come to this.
The years of her life, everything that she was, everything that she would have been – all standing alongside her at the end of the road. Choices and decisions that all walked with her as her personal guide, leading her down branching paths to this final point.
And all that was left was the step.
Everything that led up to this moment in time.
A choice that she finally had to make – one that did not come easily for a pony so unsure.
Her mind wandered back across the years. There was a time once, when innocence was still a large part of her being, and in those times she was still free from worries that plagued her, now, as she stood looking down over the edge.
It was all worries of a different kind: what to wear to the next party, when am I going to get my cutie mark, what does she think of me…
Silly now, in retrospect, the young mare thought, as she stroked the ground under her legs, almost as if it were ready to fall away from beneath her. All these questions she had from childhood still remained, up to this day, unanswered and blowing free in the dusky air.
But where did it all begin?
There was a time she remembered well. A time from the years long past. A time when she could still discover. A time when she could still learn.
And a time when she made two new associates - very special ones - who she wished would have remained around longer than they did.
Wishes…
It was at some sort of party, she recalled. It didn't matter anymore, what it was specifically. But she left with two gems of silver and gold that she carried with her until the day they slipped out of her saddlebag and were lost to the streets.
It was all because of an obsession that the three of them formed a pact – one that a mutual trust was eventually built up around.
Just a little, single, harmless, pointless, silly, obsession; unfair, untrue, unwilling to change, and indescribably infuriating.
She'd always been obsessed, that was the truth. Obsessed with self-discovery, and obsessed with an older pony, one who was an interesting part of her life, but always remained out of her reach.
She saw a Rainbow at the end of the clouds, and found a simple truth. She could not bring herself closer to it. She could not join her in the sky, dipping and rising above the horizon. She could not push past the fear that she would remain firmly on the ground, while the Rainbow flew higher and higher with each passing day, drifting the zephyrs to a place that was beyond her.
Was it fear that kept her firmly on Earth, or her firm avoidance of the sky that caused the fear? She didn't know. But it was of no consequence – she would never be able to find herself, and in that, her thoughts grew stronger and stronger.
In the end, her obsessions simply made her search; running a desperate attempt to scratch the ground and tear at the walls just to find somepony else – anypony else – to laugh with, and hope with, and dream with, and concede with, and give up with, and just wish to the world that nothing had to change.
Somepony in which every day was a search and nothing was set in stone.
Somepony in which she could forget about trying.
She found them that day, at that party.
But were they really friends?
The Pegasus on the edge of a cliff had to think about it for a while.
She may have been to them, but they certainly weren't to her, she had to admit, with dry eyes and a shiver that suddenly swept across her back.
No, they were tools. Weren't they? Why, in her excitement, in her plans and in her machinations, would she ever deem to see them as companions, when all they were, were the rationalization that she was not alone?
Something to make her feel better.
Something to replace a Rainbow.
Eventually, there came a day when she entertained the idea of them being friends. The word stung her tongue as she lost it in a whisper to the sweeping winds.
It was strange, wasn't it? They'd done a lot. They'd tried. They pushed themselves to the boundaries and attempted everything they could think of. Through it all, she merely looked to each day's events to be a simple repetition of all the days that had already come. She knew that nothing would work. But she didn't want it to, did she?
And then, the day came. The one moment when she sighed to herself, in the months gone by, and realised that she didn't need these games – the very moment when she decided that she didn't care for a reminder, and was just happy to be with them for who they were and for what they were.
And she was happy to run to her friends, not even needing to participate in their rituals and schemes, simply happy to go where the winds blew.
And on that very day, one of her companions gave up.
The Pegasus was shocked. Stunned. Taken aback. Not sure how to approach this. Even at the cusp of accepting the idea herself, she found that hearing it from another simply caused her fears to come rushing back and wrap her heart in a layer that shielded her from the rejection.
She was being abandoned.
But no, her 'friend' had said. It's just time to grow up. It's been fun, but I have to stop messing about. I have to go back to the farm.
Oh, we'll still hang out.
We're still friends!
That's what she said they'd do. And that's what happened, if only for a while.
A blooming apple tree appeared on her flank one day, and suddenly her words became meaningless.
She heard those words echoing in her ears, even now, standing high above the world. But no. She had turned away from them. She didn't want to hear the lies anymore. She didn't want to hear the lies.
The last remaining friend now, corrupted by talk and beset by dreams, had also decided to move back into her sister's shop, where she helped out with the hemming and hawing and sewing and buttons.
And it wasn't that which she was good at. She had found out, after a week, her composition on piano for one of her sister's fashion shows was very well received, and that was all the pianomare played.
Suddenly, it was two against one.
We'll still hang out.
We're still friends.
Why don't you come out with us? Why are you always busy?
You've changed.
That's what they said. But she hadn't changed – she'd just went back to the way things were before, even though now they were a burning anger in her mind and soul, eating at her chest every single day and making her wish she'd never even thought of the foolish notion that they could be…
Her friends.
There was a time, as well, when her first obsession was the object of her desire. When she too, would have loved nothing more than to have her as a sister. To have her as family. Someone to fill a narrow void that few others ever got to squeeze through.
Now, the idea repulsed her. Those two. Now working with their sisters. Finding their lives with their sisters.
Better than she was.
They had everything.
Because of their sisters.
A sister.
Anytime she thought of the word, another vice reached into her heart and clamped firmly down, and the pain was so great that even as the young adult that she was now, she still had no choice but to wince.
And she remained, as it was all those years past, the odd one out, pining for things that just made her confusion grow.
She'd shut herself away. Her two old buddies only remained buddies with each other, always asking her to come meet up for a meal and talk about old times or new times. She simply didn't see the point. They already knew about the old times, and as for the rest?
There were no new times to be had.
Through distraction and sadness, her sights returned to focus on the one in the skies. The one she was envious of. The one she had longed to be a part of in so many ways.
But now it was different. Even watching her was as sand in her mouth, and wishing to be with her was concrete in her chest.
Her original dream. Destroyed.
Her original happiness. Lost.
And from there, time slipped by, quietly, as she made her way alone through the forest of the years, each day a single tree reaching up to block her from the sun.
Every day was grey and monotonous. Every day was no longer a search for herself. Every day was simply a walk that took her and her thoughts to the outskirts of her village.
One day did she find herself at the cliff that she now stood upon.
And every day did she get closer to the edge.
She would lay there, watching for hours on end, at the Rainbow Speck that flew about in the far distance; the one who captured her eyes long ago, and yet… still managed to capture her eyes even then.
That speck was what it all came to – an obsession that was vastly understated in her mind and in her soul.
In the days that followed, in her time alone with her thoughts, in the winds that played on the cliff, she realised, discovered… understood.
It was both love and hate. It was both want and repulsion. It was the pony in the mirror that she hated the most. It was the pony in the clouds she wanted to be.
She hated the Rainbow Speck for being everything she wasn't. For being able to have the things she wanted but didn't have. For owning a life she needed but couldn't attain.
The Dancing Rainbow had stolen her very soul, which rode the clouds beside her.
The day she understood this was the day she started walking along the line that separated land from sky.
What has it always been? The need to find yourself. The need to find yourself in others. The need for an identity, and not having to sacrifice yourself to get it.
And darting in and out, amongst the clouds, she couldn't help but feel that the Rainbow was carrying her soul further and further away with every flight upon the dawn of each new day.
All she could do was watch. Staring up, staring down. The clouds above. The rocks below.
She closed her eyes, the stiff breeze still reminding her where she was.
She was sick of it.
Tired.
Done.
Sick of feeling empty, and simply watching as her life was wasted through thoughts and empty wishes.
Tired of feeling rejected, not knowing when and where she could ever face what she'd become.
Done with it all.
And today would be the day. Today would be her choice. Days of thinking, weeks of wondering, months of dreaming and years wasted by, all came down to her final choice.
She opened her eyes only at the last moments, when, teetering off the precipice, her weight shifted and she fell forward, down along the rushing wall of rock, down toward the stones below.
It was the last thing that she had to do.
Her eyes streamed with tears from the rushing wind, and from a broken heart.
And what was it that stopped her from doing this before?
Nothing.
Nothing, really.
Nothing but the invisible walls she set up for herself in the vain hopes that her life would be found by sitting in a box of her own creation.
But she was sick of it all.
She refused to close her eyes, brow furrowing in stark determination to see this through to the end. To focus on a point and make sure that, if this was the last thing she ever did, she would do it with conviction.
The wind, sharp enough to cut, helped to dry her damp cheeks and keep her long hair off her face.
Her legs stretched out as far as they could reach, as if she were struggling to catch a piece of the world that lay out before her sight.
And then.
She unfurled her wings.
Squinting and blinking against her will, her eyes stung from the pain that came with the years of her feathers' disuse.
They reached out, banking against the tide, struggling to fight the forces of nature, as it came sweeping up at her in a gale that could not be repressed.
Each tendon in her wings screamed with agony. Agony that came bolstered by her own ruinous spirit. But each second passed and her spirit pulsed harder with each beat of her chest.
And it stirred up in her heart and around her feathers, as they finally caught hold of the breeze, and she felt herself being yanked backward, as if pulled by invisible strings.
And she soared.
Through gritted teeth and blurry vision.
She soared.
Through the shaky ruffling of her wings, welcoming this feeling for the first time.
She soared.
And through the decision she made. The finality she came to. The choice she determined –
No longer would she wait. No longer would she stand by the side and hope for things to come.
No longer would she let her friends pass her by while she feared doing the one thing that she was meant for.
No longer would she cower in silence while her dreams slipped away.
Her life had ended, and in its place, something fresh began. It was the determination to carry herself back to the world which she always wanted but was always too afraid to traverse. It was the acceptance that wishing will only bring you as far as the border.
It was her choice to see herself into a better day, no matter where she might end up at the end of it.
And as she flew on, gliding now, along the mid-day sky, she felt on her flanks a strange sensation – insects running across her in a curious dance.
She didn't look back. She didn't care. It didn't matter what it was anymore. It wasn't what she was doing this for.
She cried now. Freely. Openly. It didn't matter. Her grimace turned upward to a laugh. Her heart flew beside her as each unsteady beat of her wings took her higher and higher.
For up, and onward she pushed, gaze falling upon a spot of Rainbow where the earth met the sky, and toward it she pressed.
Today, she decided.
Today.
Today was the day she released all her hate.
Today was the day she abandoned her jealousy.
Today was the day she was going to repair old friendships.
Today was the day she was going to make new ones.
Today was the day she finally had taken the one step she could never do, the one thing that would mark the change in her life that she needed to finally leave the forests and into the free, cool sky.
And as she made her way over the land, ending up drifting high above the rocks that lay below, she knew.
Today was the day she decided to leave all her burdens behind.
On the edge of a cliff.
END
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