The Eight Month Love Letter
Do you like snowflakes?
Seeing you is like snowflakes, like whispers in the wind. Sunset reread the line for the fourth time. The letter had turned up tucked between the pages of her geography book during third class period. For the most part the piece of paper was blank, a few sentences written in delicate cursive putting a pause to the white perfection. At the very top were the words Winter Snowflakes, underlined, followed by the catchy line of blank verse. Only then did the real letter begin.
My precious Sunset,
There's sunshine in your hair. I know others have told you this before. You probably get letters every day, yet I like to think that I was the first to notice… not this year, not even last, but back when you first came to Canterlot High. Back then everyone feared you. Not me. I could see the sadness you held inside, and it was very much like mine.
There was so much I wanted to tell you back then, there's so much I want to tell you now, but do you want to hear? I was scared and missed my chance, maybe forever. I still dream I haven't, but dare not hope. That is why I've split the rest of this letter into four fragments—one for each season—and hid them throughout the school. If you reach the end of my letter by the Fall Formal, I'll know it's more than a dream or passing fancy.
The text ended abruptly, as if sliced in half with a knife. Sunset skimmed through it again, then turned the note around. There was a single line of text on the back: Your Reflection#23137. Sunset scratched her ear.
“Hey, Sunny,” Rainbow Dash said, leaning on her desk. “What's up?”
“Hey, Rainbow.” Sunset looked up. “Nothing much. Trying to survive the next two hours of boredom.”
“Tell me about it! Cranky Doodle is just the worst! He goes on and on and on and…hey is that a discord account?” Rainbow Glanced at the note. “I thought you had one.”
“I do.” Sunset quickly out the letter in her backpack. “A friend gave me theirs.” Only now did it dawn on her that she knew absolutely nothing about the sender. Were they male, were they female? Were they even in the same class? At this point everything was possible. “So, what did you need me for?”
“Oh, right.” A glint of guilt flashed in Rainbow's eyes as she looked away. “You see, thing is I might made a small mess in the gym… It totally wasn't my fault.”
“Of course.” Sunset smirked as she put the rest of her books in the backpack.
“I might have made a small mess and…” Rainbow repeated, a guilty smile covering her face just as the words tailed off.
“Okay.” Sunset found it difficult not to chuckle. “I'll help you clean up after class.” Not like I have anything much to do. She glanced at the window. It was snowing as it had been the entire morning. Sunset didn't like snow, she didn't like winter altogether. It always made her feel alone.
“Great!” Rainbow Dash gave her friend a pat on the back. “See you in gym after class!” She dashed out, disappearing down the hallway.
Two classes later, Sunset was sitting patiently in a very messy, yet suspiciously empty, gym. Streaks of multicolored paint were all over the floor, walls and ceiling, attempting to from a vague resemblance of a rainbow. Sunset didn't need any guesses as to who had caused all this, just as she didn't need to guess why the person in question wasn't here.
“No problem, I'll help you clean after class, Dash,” Sunset sighed. Why do I fall for this each time? She could have taken up Twilight and Rarity on their offer to go to the movies, but instead she had promised to help out with Rainbow’s situation. So much for a fun evening. “Well, best get started.”
Sunset pulled up her sleeves, then went to the janitor's closet for some buckets, mops, and paint thinner. With a bit of luck and a lot of effort she could probably get the floor cleaned up before midnight. The ceiling was a different matter—that she would leave Rainbow to deal with on her own.
Ten minutes were enough to prove Sunset wrong. The paint, seemingly fresh, had hardened to the extent that simple mopping wouldn't do a thing. Even with paint thinner she'd have to spend hours to scrub it off.
Spending a Friday night scrubbing paint off a gym floor, Sunset thought. Yep, sounds like winter. Sunset looked at the mop then at her backpack. Two options started floating in her mind. She could clean up as she promised, or she could go home and leave it for that point in time when Rainbow would actually be here. Both options sounded equally unappealing. Or maybe…
Sunset grabbed her backpack and took the love letter. Unprotected by any book, the piece of paper was folded in several places with pencil scratches on one side. Sunset hardly even noticed, flipping it over to see the discord user name. Your Reflection She tapped it in, followed by the five digit code, then pressed send. The response was almost immediate. A new user popped up on her friends list, bearing the icon of a crescent moon.
Hello, Sunset. Reflection messaged. Sunset's heartbeat hastened. Without a moment's thought she tapped on the headphone icon, initiating a call. Soon enough the call was accepted.
“Hello,” Sunset said. “I got your letter.”
Can’t talk :(
“Oh.” Sunset’s excitement faded away. It would have been nice for me to hear you.
I can listen to you. I love listening to you speak.
“Heh, okay, though won't it be a bit one-sided?” Argh! Why did I have to make such a lame joke? “Sorry. That was stupid. It’s the first time I'm the only one talking.”
You’re fine. Set text to speech if you want. That way you can do things while we talk.
“That actually sounds useful.” Sunset opened the settings section. “What voice do you want me to give you?”
Whatever you prefer ;)
“Ah, no hint to who you are, then?”
Why ruin the mystery?
Cute. Sunset selected a female voice. As long as the caller wanted to keep the mystery alive she might as well indulge in her fantasy. It sounded right. Boys were straightforward, rarely going through such lengths.
“Done. Try typing something,” Sunset said.
“Hello.” The artificial female voice echoed in the gym. It sounded completely unnatural, but had its own charm of sorts, like a robotic schoolgirl character from an anime show. “Can you hear me?”
“Sure can.” Sunset beamed. “Well, nice to ‘hear’ you, although I'd have preferred to hear your actual voice.”
“Maybe later, when you've read my letter.”
“You like being mysterious, don't you?” Sunset sat on the floor. “That's cheating, you know. I love mysteries. Can you at least give me a hint?”
“Isn't it also cheating being a pony princess?” The robotic voice responded without change in intonation. “I've already given you a hint. If you find me interesting enough you'll find the rest. If not, I'm not good enough for you and it wouldn't matter anyway.”
“That's a bit self-deprecating, don't you think?”
“It's just math. If I can't manage to keep your intent for a few days how would I keep your interest for more?”
That’s actually a good question. If Sunset couldn't be bothered to reveal the identity of her mysterious admirer, would it be worth it? This wasn't the first love letter she had received. Right now she could barely remember the names of last year's senders if she tried. They were all friends, of course, but Sunset knew they had all wanted to be something more. Reflection seemed no different.
“I liked your letter,” Sunset went on. “The first part, at least. I didn't know anyone was interested in me back when I arrived. From what I remember back then I was just the new girl. Did we talk? I mean before the…”
“We used to, then you stopped.” The voice paused.
“Did I do something bad to you?” Guilt reared its ugly head, making Sunset’s stomach churn.
“Let's talk about something else. What are you doing right now?”
“Heh. That's easy. I'm sitting in the a gym after Rainbow Dash tried to go all Picasso on it,” Sunset snorted. How in Tartarus did she manage to paint the ceiling purple?! “You?”
“Homework.”
“Oh, so you're one of those?” Sunset snickered. One of the nerd crowd. Good. I like nerds. “Doing homework on a Friday evening. That says a lot.”
“Or I just wanted to finish it today so I can spend the weekend chatting with you?”
Silence followed. Sunset picked up the phone. The text was on the screen, written in small green letters. It was the most terrible cliché in the history of small talk, but it worked. For some reason it felt more than a clever phrase, emotion was pouring out of the pixels. You’re sweet, Sunset thought, as she moved the phone closer to her face.
“I… hid the second fragment… in the gym,” the computer voice said. Reflection had deliberately added several sets of ellipses to indicate her hesitation. “Do you want any more hints?”
“It’s fine. I'll start searching in a bit.” You tease! “Why did you place it here anyway?”
“Well… I hoped to spend some time moving you about school. You sound like you're having a tough time, so…”
“Annoyed, rather.” Sunset stood up. “Right now I'm not sure what is worse: that Rainbow painted the entire gym, or that she did such a terrible job.”
“Not everyone is born an artist.”
“I know. I'm looking at proof.” Sunset crossed her arms. “I mean how do you mess up a rainbow?! That takes a particular talent.”
The last time Rainbow Dash had attempted to be creative in art class, her teacher had taken her “painting” and gone with it directly to principal Celestia. After an hour long conversation it had been decided that she would be given a passing grade on the condition that she never ever visits the class again or attempts to draw until the end of the school year. Rainbow had taken the news with a shrug, believing it a natural result of her awesomeness. Sunset had made the mistake to ask about the painting in question. Reality had never seen the same since. For weeks each time Sunset saw Rainbow she had to fight not to burst in uncontrollable laughter. Compared to that the splashes of paint throughout the gym were a colossal improvement.
“I wish I could help you clean up,” Reflection said.
“There's nothing stopping you.” Sunset smirked out of habit.
“Heh. Not before you read my letter.”
“Boo!” Sunset said in mock disapproval. In truth it would have been disappointing if her unknown admirer had agreed. The first letter fragment had been like an invitation to a dance of mystery and romance, to which Sunset had responded upon adding Reflection to her discord friends. From here on she wanted to enjoy it. “I bet it's on one of the basketball boards.”
“Ha ha ha. Nope.” The computer laughter sounded cringy, though still managed to get the point across. “How long will it take you to clean up?”
“This mess?” Sunset glanced about. “All night if I'm lucky. More likely I'll have to phone vice-principal Luna to spend the weekend here.”
“Oh. I'm sorry.”
“Hey, not your fault.” It’s not like Rainbow Dash is bothered by getting me to clean up for her. “It’s winter. Though if we keep chatting like this I won't get anything done. You okay if we talk while I clean? There'll be weird background noises.”
“I have my headphones on.” There was a slight pause. “And I enjoy listening to you.”
Headphones, Sunset thought. That meant Reflection was living with people, probably his parents. More relevant, though, he had fallen for her hard. From a five minute chat it was difficult to say if Reflection was shy or a tease, but he knew how to maintain the interest.
“What do I call you?” Sunset took the phone neck strap from her backpack.
“Just Reflection.”
“Sounds a bit long.” The phone was clipped to the strap. “Do you still hear me okay? I'm trying something.”
“You're fine. And there's nothing wrong in being long. That way I get to hear you more.”
“You're quite the romantic.” Definitely a boy. Sunset felt a minor wave of disappointment pass through her. Pity. You seem sweet. “No chance telling me if you're a boy or girl?”
“No.”
“Okay.” In that case I can still fantasize. “I'll start working now so I will probably stop talking for a bit.”
“No worries.”
“Thanks. Feel free to shout, though. I'll answer. Might be grumbly and snarky, when I do.”
“I will. Giggle.” The text to voice functionality conveyed the message. Hearing “giggle” spoken out was more than weird, but those were the software limitations Sunset had to get used to. “Just one thing before you start. Why clean it?”
“Err?” Sunset looked at her phone. “What do you mean? Did autocorrect mess up?”
“No, sorry. I meant to say, won't it be easier to pain over what Rainbow did? Or maybe I'm just stupid.”
“Hey, no self-deprecation when talking to me, okay?” Why can't anyone see what a massive turn off that is? “It's a great idea. Might get me in a bit of trouble, but hey, it's winter.”
“You don't like winter much.”
“Nope. It's the closest thing to hate I can get to as far as seasons are concerned. It's not the cold, it's just makes me feel isolated and alone somehow…” Sunset stopped. This was a topic she didn't feel comfortable getting into, not yet. “I'll go get some paint.”
In general school policy strictly forbid the use of paint without the explicit permission if the principal. All relevant materials were not allowed on school property and only bought on a case by case basis once principal Celestia had given the go ahead. There was, however, a loophole and its name was Pinkie Pie. In her multiple lockers, scattered all over the building, the the pink menace managed to store a variety of things, most of which were against policy. Attempts had been made to get Pinkie Pie to change her ways, yet after a few months the school board have given up, requesting that Pinkie use them in a responsible fashion. To everyone’s later surprise she did.
After sending a brief text to Pinkie Pie, Sunset got the locations of the “paint lockers” and went to get them. Reflection had remained quiet throughout the process. A bit later he had excused himself, saying he had to go to bed and ended the call. The uncertainty of his gender remained, but the more Sunset thought about it the more convinced Reflection was male. Even so there remained the small sliver of doubt that intrigued her. Even if nothing came out of this she'd enjoy having Reflection as a friend.
It took four hours to paint over Rainbow’s masterpiece. Fixing the ceiling was the most challenging. Unlike Dash, Sunset had the foresight to start with that and not have paint drops splatter over the work on the floor. Not being able to fly or levitate made things difficult, but nothing a few Pinkie ladders couldn't fix. Looking at the result Sunset felt a certain degree of pride. What had been paint vomit hours ago, had now transformed into a winding rainbow twisting and turning throughout the entire gym.
And they said I was wasting my time with modern art. The girl brushed the sweat off her forehead. The paint job would undoubtedly get her in trouble with principal Celestia come Monday, and Rainbow would be certain to claim a major part of the credit, but it was worth it.
Okay, now to take a shower. It was already past ten, so there was no point in rushing home. This wouldn't be the first time Sunset had spent the night at school. Besides, with the central heating on the fritz again, the school was likely much warmer than her home.
On her way to the gym locker room Sunset glanced at her phone. Reflection was still offline. Possibly he was an early to sleep, early to rise type of person—the hallmark of a honour student. Sunset had never shared the practice, even as Princess Celestia’s protégé she'd been a night person, to the extent that her curriculum had to be changed to accommodate her waking up at noon.
I wonder… The desire to type something in the hope of getting a response began to build up. An internal conflict raged for several seconds at in the end Sunset gave in sending a Finished! :D Now off to get a shower. through discord. For almost a minute she stood there, eyes glued on the screen, waiting for an indication that her admirer was writing. There was none. Sleep well, Sunset smiled. She put away her phone and reached to open the locker. Seconds later she stopped. Her heart rate doubled. Tucked in the crack above the door, carefully folded in four, was a white sheet of paper. Sunset felt a shiver pass through her entire body. Trembling, she took the note and unfolded it.
Get a grip, me! It's just a piece of paper. Sunset unfolded it and started reading.
Because you are a dream for me, a winter dream… Just like snowflakes: you shine and glitter in your perfection, yet I'm scared if I come close you'd fly away and I'd melt in tears. I wish I could be as strong as you, but I can't. I'll forever remain the silent one sitting in the corner, hidden by your shadow. I would be easy to say you never noticed me, but you have. We've spoken and that's what makes it so difficult.
Do you like snowflakes? I love them, especially at night. It's very difficult to see a single snowflake among them all, but I can. When I see a snowflake I love I focus on it no matter what. Maybe I'll become your snowflake too? Heh, that sounded awful. I’ll keep it, though. I want you to know what I am. That way I can be sure you reached the end of the letter because you wanted to and not because I browsed online for “10 tricks to make your love letter irresistible.”
If you want to continue reading the next fragment will be waiting for you where the horse’s tears would have touched the melting snow.
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.
