A Crow Looked at Me

by No Raisin

Rating: everyone
Tags: Twilight Sparkle, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Sad, Princess Celestia
Length: 2255

Twilight, in the midst of her last days, rediscovers one of her favorite fairy tales.

Twilight, in the midst of her last days, rediscovers one of her favorite fairy tales.

Cover art by Skyline19.

My submission for the Monthly Contest Club.

Published 2017-04-23 03:00:01 UTC
Last updated 2017-04-23 03:00:01 UTC

Dusk at Canterlot Castle

The tumor was a villain unlike any Twilight had encountered before; it was frighteningly determined to take her down with it. So it was that at the beginning of April, in that awkward space between spring and summer, my beloved student came to Canterlot with a simple task in mind. She didn't want to bother her friends, either in Ponyville or elsewhere, with her worsening health, but she told me on the day of her arrival that she wanted to spend some time with me.

I never understood why, and as I write this I still feel as if unable to comprehend her kindness. At least, I can't imagine why (after all these years) she would want to be with me on a day-to-day basis. The castle is a terribly deserted place. Luna always provides good company, and her student has been trying to fill a kind of void in my chest with his own kindness, but they can only do so much. I don't want to make them feel regretful about trying to console me, and ~~really~~ Luna could certainly use some help herself.

The time between Twilight's arrival and her departure was all too brief. For all the time-related spells at our disposal, we couldn't make it last any longer than it did. [But how can this be?] After all was said and done, we were deprived of a proper ending. From my perspective that's how it seems to be, anyway; Twilight may have felt differently about those now-gone days. I'll never know for sure.

So in those closing days, my student had become infatuated with a particular book she ~~discovered~~ found in the castle library. [I still have to wonder: How did she find it? What compelled her to swipe it from the shelf?] It's a tome, and indeed I call it that because it runs dangerously close to a thousand pages long, about a lot of things, but mainly it is a book concerned with fairy tales.

Shapesphere's Fairy Tales and Short Stories. I remember its title clearly because it remains to this day the most complete volume of the author's short fiction, and I can never forget how important that stallion was. ~~Shakespeare~~ Shapesphere lived at some point, but no longer does; he is like Twilight in that sense, or should I say Twilight is much like him now? They were alive, and now they're not. They no longer exist in the present tense—the tense of the living. Twilight also wrote (three) essay collections, so she—like Shapesphere—is an author. I have those collections in the library too. [And in my personal stash, come to think of it.]

I remember an especially dreary day near the end of the month, and that day is hard to forget for a number of reasons. The first is that the weather was simply dreadful, and it was a Thursday as well. My goodness, a Thursday! Not Friday, which signals the end of the work week, and not Wednesday, which symbolizes the week's halfway point. It is a day that lacks symbolism (unless a holiday just so happens to fall upon it) and frankly I never grew to appreciate it.

I wonder if I ever will.

Still, it was a day where mostly everypony stayed indoors, and I recall my little Twilight being the same way. She had barricaded herself in the library, which ~~did~~ didn't bother me because what else was she going to do? Well, she seated herself at one of the circular tables normally meant for groups of four or more, and she had brought with her only a few books, mostly skinny ones that could be burned through in an afternoon; she didn't have time to re-read all the great epics. [She always had a glass of cold water by her side, can't forget that.] She did, however, have Shapesphere's volume laid out before her. When I came in to check up on her that day, that was the book she had been reading. She was probably selecting the stories that interested her most.

Twilight must not have heard my steps, considering she looked surprised to see me when she turned her head. ~~You also appeared so weak to me. So weak and tired. I should have let you sleep sooner, but why would I have done that? We only had so much time left.~~ She put down her glasses with her magic (as she had taken to wearing glasses in her last years, despite her age not indicating she should have) and gave me a small smile.

"Oh..." she said to me. "Hey, Celestia." Her mane, though still a rainbow of purples, lacked the vibrancy of her youth. The tumor that was consuming her pancreas made her ~~look~~ appear as if sixty-two and not forty-two.

"Hello, Twilight," I said back to her. "I see you've been picking out some old favorites?" [It's funny, how most of the time you don't think about how your face looks when you say certain words, but I couldn't help but feel ashamed of my own lack of emotion. She smiled for me, didn't she? But of course, she always did, because she was always happy to see me, or at least as she got older. When she was a little filly she feared me so much...] I tilted my head sideways, unable to feel my lips.

"Shapesphere wrote a lot when he was my age, huh?" she asked rhetorically.

"Oh yes," I agreed, "his most prolific period was when he had hit middle age, shortly after the beginning of his second marriage. Sea Breeze, that was his second wife's name. I remember both of them fondly, I must say." I couldn't chuckle.

Twilight used her magic to flip back a couple pages in the tome, back to where there was a page about half-blank. It had a title at the top, for one of Shapesphere's fairy tales; I can recall the name of it, even though (admittedly) it isn't one of my favorites of his. "Did he ever tell you about stories he was working on?" Twilight slid her hoof up the page, to the title in bold letters.

THE TEMPTRESS.

"Oh, that one." I sat down beside Twilight and—though I didn't have a seat—towered over her, peering over her shoulder. "About the wizard and the mutant on the island. It's a morality tale." I paused, then thought about it. "They all are, actually."

"Morality tales?" Twilight started to sound a little raspy, so she took the glass of water and ~~downed a sip~~ sipped.

"Tales with messages," I replied. "Fairy tales tend to have morals. You should know, being a literature enthusiast." I tried lightening the atmosphere, but it wouldn't let me. [I'll never forgive it.]

Twilight sniffed for a long time; she sported a post-treatment nasal drip that (among other things) bothered her ~~subtly~~ in a subtle way. The castle ended up going through a lot of tissue boxes. She glared at the pages in front of her, as though angered that they were not following a command she had implemented. She got disgruntled often in those days, but I couldn't blame her.

"What do you think Shapesphere was trying to tell us?" she said after a while.

"Hmm," I said. "In general, or through that particular story?"

"I think either will do..." She sniffed again. Her eyes were glassy. ~~You never should have looked like that.~~

I wrapped my left wing around my little student, a gesture I'm sure she liked. "Well, if you're reading stories written by the same author, I would recommend thinking of them all as being connected to a much bigger, central message." My wing's grip on her tightened, but not too much, as her body had grown weak in those days. She had become like a baby bird in my hooves. "If an author has any intention on producing a cohesive body of work, they will seem to connect at some point. Like—snapping into one whole piece."

She looked up at me. "And what separates a fairy tale from a short story, then?"

"If, hmm..." It made me consider, because I don't think she had ever brought that question to my attention before. [I miss her ability to do that. To make me come up with answers to interesting questions and to think about those answers. She was the only one in the past century to make me feel that way with regularity.] I did come up with an answer, though. "A fairy tale runs short in length most of the time, but it does't have to be that way. A short story is a story that was designed from the beginning to have a certain number of words to it."

"And fairy tales aren't like that?" Her eyes ~~reverted~~ went back to the book.

"Not always," I said. "A lot of them simply turn out that way."

Twilight didn't necessarily need help going to bed, but I couldn't live with myself if I didn't accompany her. She hardly ever slept in those days, even though she left for her bedroom early and woke up just a couple of hours before noon. [She kept saying her stomach was bothering her, but of course it wasn't just that.] Neither I nor Luna pushed her out of bed early; she had already gone through so much.

When she was a filly, Twilight slept with a night light in her room. It seems that life really does operate in a circular manner, because early in her stay at the castle she ~~requested~~ told me she wanted to have something like a lamp or a lit candle. We came to the agreement that the former was the better option. The lantern is still in her room, but she isn't.

Another habit of Twilight's when she was a filly: She slept on her back, and then as a mare she slept on her sides. Once again she regressed; she preferred sleeping on her back. The room was dimly lit, but just enough to her liking. [I honestly would have done anything for her. If she wanted a sundae made from special ingredients that could only be found in Tartarus, I would get them for her. Personally.] I could hear her breathing in the night. It was too loud. ~~No mare of your age should be struggling to take in air like that.~~

"Celestia?' she asked me weakly. "What's your favorite Shapesphere fairy tale?" She lied in bed, and I was still working to tuck her in with my magic. I could sense Luna standing in the doorway; she couldn't sleep much either.

"Probably... A Long Summer Night's Dream. That one always makes me laugh." It's true. And yet I haven't gotten to give it another read-through since her ~~death~~ passing, but after I'm finished writing this entry I really should. "Especially the side story about the theater troupe and the fair folk. Aren't they such colorful characters?"

"Mmm," Twilight murmured. "I agree with that one. You could maybe read it to me tomorrow night?"

"Of course. But why not tonight? It isn't too late, is it?"

"No. Just..." Twilight yawned and sniffed. Her eyes possessed an unhealthy redness to them. "Today has been tiring. What with Spike and Ember visiting, and all the reading..."

I smiled tranquilly in the fire light. "I understand, Twilight." I moved the covers up to her chest. "I will see you tomorrow then, okay?"

"Okay..." Twilight blew a strand of hair out of her eyes and looked over my shoulder. "And I hope to see you tomorrow too, Luna."

My sister hadn't moved an inch. [She didn't wanna get too close.] "Same with thee, Twilight." She then turned slightly to me. "Tia?"

"Yes, little sister." I sighed and ~~moved~~ made my way to the doorway. The bedroom was far too big for a little pony like Twilight. Before closing the door shut I looked back at Twilight, and I could see her looking at me in return. "Goodnight, my faithful student."

"Goodnight, Celestia."

I departed, and the door closed. Not forever, granted. Life lingered in Twilight's body for a good while after that night. She never traveled far from the castle, and usually she remained in either the library or the throne room. She enjoyed visitors, who indeed came to the castle often. Her friends didn't see her so frequently; they either did not want to see her in the state she was in, or they wanted her to enjoy some peace and quiet out of respect. [Pinkie Pie visited the most often. Over the years I've formed a close bond with her especially. We cried together a lot. We still do.] And in the end it was a peaceful exit, I suppose.

To be honest, I feel unsure as to what else to write about at the moment. ~~It has been nearly two weeks since you died.~~ I sleep on most nights, but what troubles me is the fact that—if I think about it for too long, and that does happen to me on occasion—I imagine Twilight being in places where she isn't any longer, and these places have eerie blotches of blackness enveloping them. They have been afflicted with the illness of absence, I suspect. I feel ill myself, but I know it is just a figurative sickness embedded in my gut. I wish it would go away.

[How long do I have to feel sick like this?]