The Eight Month Love Letter

Blossoms in your hair

“The Great and Powerful Trixie must protest in the strongest possible way!” Trixie shouted, raising her fist in the air. “Why should Trixie move her stage venue? Doesn't Trixie have the same rights as any other student in Canterlot High?”

The argument had been going on the entire morning, wasting all of Sunset’s free periods. The bad thing was she couldn't fault Trixie. Being school property, the statue pedestal was available to all. The fact that Trixie had chosen to transform it into a makeshift stage, thus preventing Sunset to see its surface, was by no means wrong, even if extremely vexing.

“Look, Trixie, I just want to—“ Sunset began.

“Ruin Trixie’s act?” Trixie gasped theatrically. “Trixie should have known! You and your puny magic feel threatened by the greatness that is Trixie!”

“You… fine!” Sunset put her hand of her face. Why did it have to be today? “When does your show finish?”

“Err…” Trixie looked away, flustered. “Trixie isn't entirely sure.” She pouted. “Trixie’s audience is probably too shy to behold her greatness and is yet to come out to admire the spectacle.”

Ouch. Sunset winced. It was difficult not to feel pity for the amateur magician. Damnit, why does everything have to happen at the same time. According to the clues Reflection had given during their months of chatting, the next fragment of the letter was supposed to appear near the pedestal on the first day of spring. Even since Sunset had managed to figure that out, she had counted the hours until the moment. And now that that day was here, Trixie had covered the remains of the statue to perform a magic show.

“I’ll be your audience if you want,” Sunset offered with a sympathetic smile.

Trixie stared at her for ten full seconds, not moving a muscle. There were no gasps, no mock surprise, not long and annoying monologue. Instead, the magician just nodded in silent thanks and went to ready her props. Sunset sighed in defeat. At this point she may as well enjoy it. Finding a place to sit down, she took out her phone and swiped to the discord app.

I don't suppose you fancy joining me at a magic show? Sunset typed. I got us front row seats.

There was no response. Reflection was probably in class or reading a book somewhere. If what he wrote was to be believed, that was how he spend most of his time. That and help his family. Sunset had tried to trick him into revealing any additional information, but so far most of her attempts had been unsuccessful. In a few instances—always past midnight—Reflection had slipped, unconsciously mentioning part of his street or a neighbor’s name. It wasn't much, but with the school’s student records and a bit of internet magic Sunset might have been able to find out exactly who her admirer was. The prospect had tempted her several times, but she had chosen not to. The dance they had been dancing had become far more than a simple mystery. It was no longer enough to know who the person on the other side of the screen was; Sunset wanted to get to know him, to learn everything there was about him, to read all four fragments of the letter before they met.

“Ready?” Trixie asked with forced hostility.

“Yup.” Sunset put the phone beside her.

“No mobile phones allowed during the performance.” Trixie narrowed her eyes.

“Sorry.” Sheesh! Offer a finger and she bites your arm off. Sunset set the phone to mute and put it in her jacket pocket. Trixie grumbled audibly, but started nonetheless.

The show was very different from what Sunset was expecting. There were no fanfares or grandiose announcements, no theatrical posing, no display of giant props. Trixie just took off her hat and started.

Reaching into the air, Trixie made three metal balls appear, one after the other, then started juggling with them. Rays of sunlight reflected off their polished surface—a reminder that spring had broken. Wow, Sunset thought. She enjoyed spring. It felt magical, as if the entire world was one enormous phoenix shedding her feathers of snow and coming back to life. Through a simple juggling act Trixie managed to capture every nuance of that feeling and transfer it to her audience amplified tenfold. As Sunset watched the balls transformed into rings, then handkerchiefs, then finally sprouted wings and flew into the sky leaving a trail of falling petals.

Since when did Trixie become so good? Sunset thought, unable to look away.

“That was it,” Trixie said under her breath, taking a seat next to Sunset. “Applause are not necessary.”

“Trixie that was…I mean…”How do I even describe what I’m feeling?”It’s—“

“You have blossoms in your hair,” Trixie noted.

“Huh?”

“Blossoms from the pigeons.” Without warning Trixie passed her fingers through Sunset’s hair. “See?” She opened her hand revealing several pink blossoms. “They were supposed to fall in the opposite direction, but I got the wind wrong.” Trixie let the blossoms float in the air with a sigh.

“Wind? Trixie, your act was amazing! Usually you focus on smoke and mirrors.” And pyrotechnics that almost set the stage on fire every time. “Why don’t you do this more often?”

“It’s my equinox show. I only do it once per year.”

Sunset paused. This was the first time she heard Trixie use a first person pronoun. Such a simple thing that made her appear as a completely different person. The cloak of obnoxiousness gone, she could pass as pensive, sweet even. A single petal danced through the air, landing on Trixie’s hair. Sunset felt her hand instinctively move to remove it. Halfway there she stopped. Should I use this as excuse? Hesitation crept in.

“So, what did you want to see?” Trixie turned around, the petal falling off her hair.

“Huh?” Sunset quickly pulled her hand back.

“You said you had something important you needed to do.” Trixie narrowed her eyes. “So important you nearly ruined Trixie’s performance.”

“Oh. Heh heh.” This is way awkward. “Trixie, can I look at the pedestal?”

Trixie arched a brow. She looked at the statue base, then back at Sunset. Normally, no one paid much attention to it. The school was still having arguments what to erect on it with the “traditionalists” demanding that a copy of the original statue be made, and the “innovators” insisting for a more stylized version. And, of course, there was Rainbow Dash, who insisted that it was only proper to erect a statue of the most awesome student even—namely her. At present, an indigo star-filled cloth covered the pedestal, creating the key piece for Trixie’s stage.

“Since Trixie’s performance is over, you might as well admire your beloved pedestal once Trixie gathers her props,” the magician announced. “Unless you want to help Trixie pack up?” She added with a glimmer of hope. “As payment for watching the glorious spectacle, of course!”

“Of course.” Sunset smiled.

Jumping to her feet, Sunset went to the pedestal and lifted the cloth. Bare white marble stared back at her. It would have been too easy to get it on my first try, Sunset thought. Moving to another side she peeked under the cloth once more.

“What exactly are you doing?” Trixie looked over Sunset’s shoulder.

“A friend left something for me to find.” Sunset went to the other side of the pedestal. “I thought I’d find it here.”

Did I get the hints wrong? There was only one side left now. Standing in front of it, Sunset felt she couldn’t move. Her hand had frozen on the cloth not daring to move it away. All the hints had pointed to it. Just moments ago she was so certain it had to be here. Now, three sides later, she had doubts. Why am I acting this way? Even if it isn’t here it’s not like Reflection will hide it from me. Suddenly, the entire cloth was pulled off the base of the statue and out of her hand, revealing another bare side. Sunset felt her heart sink.

“If you would have asked, Trixie would have told you she didn’t find anything when she prepared the stage,” the magician grumbled, Rolling up the cloth. “Now, will you help Trixie or not?”

The question managed to erase some of the disappointment. It also gave Sunset a greater appreciation of how much was involved in Trixie’s magic show. Until now she had always thought that all the needless props and costumes were merely there because of the magician’s megalomania. The star covered cloth, the stage, the glowing lamp shards—each seemed perfectly ordinary, yet there were more than half the act. Making balls appear from thin air didn’t just involve a sleight of hand, there was real science involved, and loads and loads of practice. Back in Equestria, Sunset could use a few simple spells to achieve the exact same effect without even batting an eye. Here, she was amazed at Trixie’s devotion.

Between carrying the neatly folded props to Trixie’s trailer, Sunset checked her phone. Still no messages. It was rare for Reflection to remain silent for so long. Usually he’d always manage to sneak a few words. There goes my theory. Sunset typed in. Were all the hints you gave me true?

“When you’re done texting your sweetheart, Trixie would like help with getting the cage inside,” Trixie growled. “Unless Trixie is wasting your precious time.”

On instinct, Sunset hid the phone behind her back. Why am I feeling guilty about this? She offered a tense smile.

“Just help with the pigeons, okay?” Trixie rolled her eyes. “It’s clear that you never intended to be any real help! You just wanted Trixie to finish so you could search for—“ the magician made a circular gesture with her hand “—whatever you were searching for. It’s not like Trixie expected you to understand what is involved in being an artiste!”

“Yeah, I’m a bit distracted today.” Sunset discreetly put her phone away.

“Trixie wasn’t expecting anything different.” The magician humphed, lifting the pigeon cage so Sunset could pull it in. “It’s not like—“

“Do you want to get some ice cream?” Sunset asked as she took the cage, careful not to disturb the birds inside. Helping out at Fluttershy’s animal shelter had taught her a thing or two about animals. “My treat.”

Trixie’s eyes widened. A strong breeze picked up, blowing her hair over her forehead. Trixie didn’t even bother brushing it off, staying there as a still as a statue. Then, without warning, she took off her hat. Okay, this is officially weird. Sunset watched the magician whisper something into the hat, then spin it twice in the air.

“Trixie is partial to peanut butter cracker parfait ice cream,” Trixie announced handing her hat to Sunset. “With sprinkles on top!”

“Of course, you are.” Good thing I don’t have too many expenses. “See you at Sugarcube Corners after class?”

“I’ll try to be there,” Trixie whispered. “Now begone!” She spun around “The great and powerful Trixie needs to prepare for her usual act! And be very careful of Trixie’s hat!”

“Oh, trust me, I—“

Trixie threw something on the ground. A cloud of smoke emerged, hiding her from view. By the time it had cleared the magician had gone. Definitely a way to make an exit, Sunset thought. A simple “see you later” would have been enough, yet Trixie had to be Trixie. Getting out of the trailer, Sunset hurried back to school. She had one more class, plus she had promised to help Rarity with ideas for the new “Spring Ensemble” that was “going to change fashion as the world knew it”. Every now and again she’d check her phone for a message, but there was none. Only at noon did a brief text appear.

Sorry, held up. Back when I can.

Sunset tapped in a reply, then wished Rarity goodbye and went to Sugarcube Corners. Most of the tables were empty now that spring had arrived. If it wasn’t for her promise, Sunset would be sitting under a tree texting Reflection. A promise was a promise, however, so she chose a seat by the window, put Trixie’s hat on the table in front of her, and ordered a peanut butter cracker parfait ice cream. Half an hour later the ice cream had completely melted, and there was still no sign of Trixie.

Last time I order in advance, Sunset thought. The magician’s hat remained indignant, sitting in front of her. Why do I feel I like I just got stood up? With no texts and no Trixie present, Sunset picked up the hat. A small note fell out, floating onto the table.

I hope you never read this, but if you do it means that I got col something came up.

Sorry :(

Trixie

Looks like it’s one of those days. Sunset let out a deep sigh. This was her favorite day of the year, yet so far there had been several disappointments. She hadn’t found the letter fragment, Trixie had stood her up her, and Reflection had been silent all day. The only thing left now was to pay the bill, drink what was left of the parfait ice cream, and go home.

A loud ping came from her phone. Without thinking Sunset grabbed it and started at the screen.

Hey, hey! A message from Reflection appeared, making Sunset’s heart skip a beat. Sorry for the silence. Some things happened and I had to take care of them. How are you?

Well, I didn’t find your second fragment, Cranky was annoyed I was late for his class, and Trixie stood me up after I was foolish enough to order the second most expensive ice cream, Sunset wanted to say. Instead, just just typed it I’m fine. Can you hold for just a moment?

Sure :) The reply came instantly.

Sliding the phone in her pocket, Sunset got up, grabbed Trixie’s hat, then rushed out, leaving twenty and change on the counter as she passed by. The weather outside was pleasant, if slightly chilly. The effect of winter was still lingering in the air. At least it’s spring. Sunset broke into a run, making her way to the park. Everything else might not have gone according to plan, but this would.

The park was full of people. Everyone had come out to enjoy the warm weather with friends and family. Mostly couples, though. Sunset could see the telltale signs a mile away. A quiet sigh left her lips. She wished that Reflection was with her, even if she was sure he was male. She had spent her first spring on Earth with Flash in this park. He was the first person she felt close to, the only she could never be mean to. I should call him sometime, Sunset thought. Maybe next week.

Can you voice? Sunset typed on her phone. Throughout the winter months this had become their thing. Reflection would never use his actual voice, but he’d listen to Sunset, and she in turn would use the text to speech functionality. Almost like real talking, they’d joke.

Give me a moment. I have to change rooms. The response came fast. A few seconds later the call invitation flashed on her phone. Sunset accepted.

“Sorry for not being late,” the artificial voice said. “There’s something I had to do.”

“Well, you missed a great performance.” Sunset said, walking to a more secluded part of the park. “A real world class circus act. I got us front row seats.”

“Oh?” The way it was read made it sound more disappointed than intrigued.

“Yep. It had magic, pigeons, juggling, the whole shabang.”

“Sorry. Maybe I’ll be able to see it with you sometime. Did you take pictures?”

Crap! Sunset froze for an instant. The thought had never crossed her mind. Between her initial low expectations and Trixie’s grumpiness, that was the last thing she’d consider. Now she had to wait till next spring, or beg Trixie for an encore.

“No, I want us to experience it live next time,” Sunset lied.

“I’d like that. Even if we don’t end up being ... together.” Another good use of ellipses. Could she actually be a girl? Sunset wondered. The was Reflection managed to convey emotion through text to speech was exceptional. Only a girl could manage that surely. Sunset felt her pulse rush.

Don’t get your hopes up, Sunset, she thought. Don't ruin the moment. Enjoy what you have.

“Actually, I wanted to show you something else.” Sunset opened her camera app. “Hold a moment.”

A lone tree rested on a hillock a short distance away. Applejack had explained it was an artificial hill, made when her grandmother was young. The tree was planted later by the city council for an occasion no one remembered anymore; there it had taken root and grown to its present form. To Sunset it was more than a tree. This was where she had sought shelter after her banishment to Earth—the closest to a piece of Equestria she could find. It reminded Sunset of herself: strong, standing tall, unbowing, undisturbed, and ever so different.

Sunset took a picture then sent it through discord. There was a long pause.

“Still there?” Sunset closed the camera app.

“Just speechless. Where is that?”

“In the park.” Sunset made her way up the hillock and sat in the base of the tree. “I wanted us to spend the first day of spring here.” Argh. That sounds so corny.

“That’s ... I’d like that.”

“Would have been even better if I had found your letter.” Sunset let out a sigh. “I thought I had it figured out, but seems I didn’t. I was convinced you’d put the letter on the statue pedestal on the first day of school.”

“Wouldn’t that be a bit obvious? Chuckle,” Reflection asked. Using words to depict emotions was another of her peculiarities. Sunset had cringed the first few days she’d heard them, but with time the practice had grown on her. “I mean anyone would be able to see it. And I wouldn’t want that.”

“I wouldn’t have minded.” Definitely a girl! Only a girl would care for such a detail. “At most Rarity would have been envious. Well, maybe a few others also.”

“Giggle. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“We’re you at school today?” Sunset rested against the trunk. “You know you can always come and say “hi” face to face. I mean we’ve been chatting for a while. Maybe it’s time to take the next step?” Please say yes.

“What about the letter?” The expected answer. Each time Sunset would try to get more information, she’d get the same response. “You promised you’d reach the end. Don’t you want to?”

“It’s okay.” Sunset tried to smile. She had very much hoped Reflection would agree. “I left you a gift, by the way. Its right on top of Pope’s poems.”

There was no answer. Sunset but her lip. Did I go too far?

“Reflection? Are you still there?” Sunset asked, moving the phone closer to her face.

“Sorry. I’m just speechless. I didn’t think I’d be the first to get a gift.”

“You deserve it.” Thank the Stars! “Just a little something. Don’t worry I won’t try to find you through it.”

“Chuckle. I know. Thank you”

“I hope you like it.”

“I know I will. Tell me about your day.”

“Where do I start?” Sunset laughed.

This was the first time Reflection had asked. During the winter months Sunset was the one asking. When not with her friends, her discord chats were what helped her get through the days and nights. Even when she slept she would keep her phone by her pillow, to fend off the cold and darkness. Now that the snow had melted and buds were blooming, it was Sunset’s turn, and she went right to it. She described how she woke up—late again—grabbed a handful of corn flakes as she rushed to get to school on time. A description of the classes followed, along with her attempts to search the pedestal, as well as her Trixie experience. Every few minutes Reflection would interrupt with a question or a “chuckle”. There would be comments how Sunset had forgotten certain details—like washing and getting dressed before rushing to school. Sunset would laugh or sigh, often both, then fill in the blanks then go on.

By the time the girl finished describing the day it was well after evening. The light chill of the day had transformed into a sharp cold, making her huddle in her jacket, knees against her chest, Trixie’s hat covering her head. Her hands were shivering holding the phone, yet she kept on talking, not wanting to miss a moment.

“I need to go to bed now. Sad face.” Reflection wrote. “It’s nearly midnight and we still have school tomorrow.”

“Sure.” Where did all the time go? “We’ll continue tomorrow.” She stirred. Her legs and feet had gone slightly numb. “You’ll be here, I hope?”

“I will. It’s just today that I had to do something, Just, try not to write during class. I can't always see the messages then.”

“Hmm. Tough call.” Sunsets knees let out a pop as she stood up. The loss of sensation in her legs made her wobble slightly leaning against the tree for balance. “I promise I’ll try. Is that okay?” Aaa! Pins and needles! Pins and needles!

“Okay.” Reflection wrote, as Sunset clenched her teeth, fighting against the sudden return of sensations in her limbs. “Umm. ... Is there anything you want to ask me?”

“Must you go?” Sunset asked the first thing that came to mind.

“Not that. Do you want to know more about the second fragment?”

All pain subsided. The fragment. It was what Sunset had been waiting for ever she had read the first. She had spent weeks thinking of nothing else. Having Reflection, of all people, remind her felt like she had swallowed an ice cube.

“I thought you didn’t discuss that.” Way to go, me. Sunset grumbled to herself. “You said you’d only give me hints.”

“I’ll change that. My hints were misleading. You managed to guess the riddle, but never got the piece. From now on if you can’t find it through any fault of mine I’ll tell you where it is.”

“You mean it was on the pedestal?!” Trixie I’ll get you for this! You had the letter all along! It was just an act! She took off the magician’s hat, holding it firmly with one hand as if to strangle it.

“No,” Reflection wrote. “It will be. Today is the equinox, but summer starts tomorrow. ... in fourteen minutes.”

“What?” Sunset blinked.

“Goodnight, Sunset. You’re magnificent.” The conversation ended.

Sunset tried to start a new call, but there was no response. Damn it, Reflection! Why do you do this to me? She kept pressing the call button on and off. Moments later she dashed down the hillock and through the park. Oh crap! Oh crap! Gripping her phone in one hand, and Trixie’s hat in the other she rushed towards the school.

Fourteen minutes. Sunset never expected she could take the distance in that much. She’d go visit the tree every week, most often alone, occasionally with her friends, and she knew perfectly well It took her about half an hour to get there. Even running making it in half that much was a feat. Sunset could hear her heart ring in her ears, as she ran, lungs screaming.

The marble pedestal was waiting for her as it had always been. The rays of moonlight made it even more special than usual. Made it! Sunset thought, clutching her chest. She could barely stand, legs shaking as she gasped for air. Thank the Stars, I made it!

The phone in her hand pinged. Sunset looked at down. Before she could check the message a faint silvery light caught her attention. The entire pedestal was glowing, its surface akin to a mirror. A sheet of paper emerged along with a wave of pink cherry blossoms, floating gently through the air onto the ground before her.

“Reflection, you wonderful maniac,” Sunset whispered, as she picked up the note.

Maybe I should steal some lines from a poem? The romantics wrote many masterpieces about love, but would that be fair? Would it even be enough? How could they describe something they have never seen? It would be like the blind describing the sun, for you are my sun. The way you shine, the way you smile.

Some may call you harsh, but not me. I was all alone before you came. Every day I would look at others talking, laughing, knowing I would never be like them. All I could do is find something for me to distract myself with: school, hobbies, books, a dozen excuses to keep my thinking away. You proved me wrong. Like the first breeze of spring, you brought joy back to my life, showed me what happiness was like.

I could thank you all my life, and it would never be enough. I could write a hundred letters and they won’t match even a hundredth of what I feel when I look at you. My single hope is that I could show you something for you to see... this is my gift to you: a breath of spring from your home, a moment of your past I hope you cherished, a river of blossoms in your hair.

If you want to continue reading the next fragment will be waiting for you in the heart of summer.