Rolling Down the Mountain
It was hot inside the train, but that was summer for you. Luckily, Lyra managed to get a window seat. She opened that up real quick—before her tail even hit the seat. She stuck her muzzle out and breathed deeply. The air outside wasn't much cooler, but at least it was fresher than inside the train car—and as the car filled with ponies it smelled ever sweeter by comparison.
The noise of the collective conversations of the other passengers grew steadily. Lyra kept her ears turned to the window too.
She felt somepony sit down next to her. It was a large mare with a rose colored coat. "Hey there," Lyra said.
"Hello, dearie," the mare said, "is this seat taken?"
"Go right ahead," Lyra said, scooting over as much as she could.
"Hmmm," the mare said after a moment. "I bet you're heading to Canterlot, the way you're packed." The mare's accent told Lyra the same was not true of her.
Lyra glanced down at her saddle, suddenly feeling self-conscious. Even they hadn't been on a train headed to Canterlot, her bags were clearly Canterlot fashion. "Yeah, I am," Lyra said, hesitating.
"Oh, I've always wanted to visit, but I've never been able to make it work. Even now, when it's right on the way. You know, I live in this tiny little town up north—just a tad bigger than Ponyville here, and they don't even run trains out there every day. Why, if I missed this one I wouldn't be able to get back until Monday! And then I'd be in all sorts of trouble. I had to beg my boss just to get the time off for this. Oh she's a nice mare, don't get me wrong, but very punctual.She would never have approved of last night..."
Lyra nodded along to this mare's story. Her voice was about the most pleasant sound around. The sound of the train, the chugging of the engine wasn't exactly unpleasant, but it was far from music, even if it had rhythm—it was much too harsh and mechanized. There was no meaning to the sounds, no feeling.
So Lyra nodded along to the mare's autobiography. Until at last she butted in: "Do you sing?"
"What?"
"Excuse me, but you should take up singing if you don't already. You have a nice voice for it, I couldn't help but notice." As she spoke, Lyra shifted in her seat to show off her cutie mark.
"Why thank you. I suppose you would know. I'm afraid I haven't tried it much, though. My sister, on the other hoof, now she could belt a tune..."
The connection Lyra had been hoping to grasp slipped away. Their tracks were no longer parallel; the first thing the mare had said was that there destinations were different, and Lyra saw that clearly now, though not in the way the mare had meant. Every time she chimed in, the conversation would only follow her words for a few moments before veering away, farther and farther as time went on.
The train's ascent leveled out at last. Lyra didn't know the least thing about trains, but she could still feel a change in the chugging of the engine. It wasn't hard to imagine it feeling a kind of relief pulling onto the level ground; after the long pull up the mountain, it had finally come home.
Lyra had not been gone long—only for the day of the Celebration—but to her it seemed like she had never left at all. Canterlot had been in sight the whole time, perched high on the mountain. She didn't want to say "looming," but, well, it had been.
The train pulled smoothly into the station. Lyra's gloomy thoughts disappeared the instant she set hoof outside of the train. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say they were smothered, along with Lyra herself, in a fuzzy blue hug.
"I missed you too, Minuette," she said, once she had wormed her way out of the hug.
"Sorry," Minuette said, a little sheepishly, "I guess it's good just to see that you're safe." Lyra could now see Lemon Hearts and Twinkleshine nodding in agreement behind Minuette. "What happened down there?"
"Hoboy," Lyra said, "let me tell you everything. But let's find a place to sit down. Because this stuff is gonna get crazy." She hefted her bags and took a step forward. She stopped, "Hey, where's Moondancer?"
The mood deflated a little. "Well, you know that party she was putting together?" Lemon Hearts said.
Lyra's ears flattened. "Yeah. Yeah, I still feel really bad about missing that. Oh crap. She's not upset with me is she?"
"She's upset alright, but not with you." A sinking feeling began to gather in Lyra's stomach. Lemon Hearts continued, "Twilight didn't show up."
"Oh," Lyra said. Oh, Lyra thought.
"She didn't take it well."
"I can imagine." Lyra looked at her friends. "Come on with me. You really need to hear what happened in Ponyville now." She left and they all followed. The conversation shifted to another topic for the moment. That was fine with Lyra; she wanted to tell things properly.
Lyra was always fascinated with talking in public. How the voices of her friends remained clear and distinct, even while all about them other ponies talked—no farther and no quieter than her friends—and their words blended into a meaningless, rhythmless buzz.
"—so Nightmare Moon is Princess Celestia's sister?"
Lyra had almost finished recounting her story. "Was," she corrected, "but the...Elements, I think it was, purified her. She's Princess Luna now. Or again. However that works. And it was all thanks to our Twilight."
"Wow," Lemon Hearts said.
Twinkleshine chuckled, "I guess it's a good thing Twilight didn't tell anypony she was going then. If you had told me the fate of Equestria depended on her talking to ponies I'd have said we're all screwed."
"Twinkleshine!" Minuette said, "that's mean."
Twinkleshine just looked at her. "Are you saying I'm wrong?"
"No," Minuette sighed. She huffed, "But that's not the point!" She tried to act indignant. That didn't stop her from joining in when everypony else started laughing. What else can you do when you know that the only reason the sun is shining is that the Ponyville library didn't have a very good selection?
Lemon Hearts calmed down first. "So when is Twilight coming back?" she asked.
She had been leading up to this the whole time, but Lyra couldn't help but cringe. "She's not," she said. "Twilight is staying in Ponyville. She even asked the Princess."
"What."
"You're kidding."
"Are you serious?"
"I am being completely serious," Lyra said. "She said she wanted to stay with the friends she made in Ponyville."
"But she's only known them for one night!" Lemon Hearts said.
Twinkleshine couldn't resist another jab and chimed in "So what's the problem? That's almost as much time as she's spent with us."
"Twinkllle." Minuette said.
"Hey, I'm joking, I'm joking."
Minuette put her head in her hooves. "Celestia, how are we gonna break this to Moondancer?"
"And now you know how I've been feeling since the train station," Lyra said.
"Geeze."
There was a moment of silence. Lyra realized that everypony was staring at her. Expectantly. Her ears flicked down. "I guess I'll go over and tell her now. Rip the bandage off, and all." She got up. The others just watched her. "You can come with me, you know? Support our friend?"
"I-I've actually got to get to work," Twinkleshine said. She didn't seem to be able to look at Lyra anymore. The others added their own excuses, and one by one trotted away.
Lyra was frustrated, but she couldn't blame them. She wasn't exactly thrilled to do this either. It was very tempting just to not go at all; she could feel her hooves resisting a little as she faced down the street.
No. She couldn't do that to her friend. The others wouldn't want that either. They had just run off because they had the excuse of there being somepony else to do it. The image of Moondancer reading a newspaper and finding out that way that Twilight had left flashed through her head. She sighed, and started down the street. At least she'd be able to guilt the others into buying her drinks later.
Lyra headed straight for Moondancer's house. There was approximately a zero percent chance she was anywhere else—especially right now. That mare had to be dragged anywhere that wasn't a bookstore, library, or school. She figured Moondancer would be holed up with a book as thick as the tree it had come from. Things would probably have to get physical to get her to do anything else for a while, Twilight moving aside.
Lyra couldn't blame her either. She could only curse everypony and their excuses. But being stood up at that party had to have hurt. Twilight was a very smart mare, but she could be so very stupid sometimes.
Point was, Moondancer was probably going to out of commission for a while. Actually, now that she thought of it, half the time they got her to do anything it was only because they had already roped Twilight into doing it too. Without her around, it was a fair question whether Moondancer would want to have anything to do with them at all. Lyra stopped in her tracks. That was a depressing thought. Dammit Twi, do you have any idea what you've done? Lyra shook her head. Of course Twilight hadn't intended any of this. And it wasn't exactly a surprise that she would disappear somewhere without telling anypony.
Lyra continued walking, slower now. She was in even less of a hurry. She had just been worried that it was going to be awkward before, but now the stakes were higher. Was this going to be a goodbye to Moondancer? Celestia. Well she for one wasn't going to let her shut herself away, that was for sure.
Just, Twilight had better appreciate her new friends in Ponyville. Lyra couldn't completely blame her (this was becoming a pattern, and Lyra didn't like it) they had all seemed like nice ponies. Also she wasn't sure that the pink one would even have let her leave Ponyville. Lyra had to giggle a little (one did not simply think about Pinkie Pie and stay gloomy) as she wondered if Twilight had gotten a welcome like she had.
It wasn't such a bad town. Even if you took out Pinkie Pie, it was friendlier than Canterlot. Lyra had read that Canterlot had a reputation for being chilly in that regard. Ponies would be nice and polite with you, but good luck getting to know them if you hadn't grown up with them. While Lyra felt some token indignation on behalf of her home city, it was hard to disagree.
She arrived at Moondancer's house more quickly than she would have liked. She had been perfectly happy angsting over the reaction she was going to get and practicing what she was going to say; she didn't want to actually get there. But there really was no choice. She knocked on the door.
There was no answer. That didn't surprise her. Moondancer was not known for her awareness of her surroundings—especially while reading. Lyra did not hesitate to take the next step. She gently opened the door.
Lyra stared at the dark sky outside her window. She fiddled with her lyre every now and then, but she didn't play anything. She was not in the mood for music. She was in a quiet mood.
Moondancer had taken the news about as well as she had expected. Lyra was glad that she wasn't likely to see Moondancer around town. Maybe at the library, but even there.... It was mean, but it was the truth.
Lyra looked out over the city. A city minus Twilight: that was the issue. Minus Moondancer too, now, for all intents and purposes. And who knew? Twilight would be in the papers, but she wasn't a popular pony, things would be back to normal after a few days. And Moondancer was even less noticeable. Only Lyra and her friends would notice her being more of a recluse than usual.
Now if Lyra ran off somewhere, that would be different. It wouldn't just be Minuette, Lemon Hearts, and Twinkleshine, who noticed her gone. There would be loads of other ponies. Lyra couldn't even count them all. Just try to list them. There was, there was...
Well, there was her professors. They'd notice right away—and not just taking attendance! No, no. She knew them. No. They'd notice. And if they didn't it would just be because they were so busy. Okay, so they weren't the best example. That didn't matter. There were plenty of others. It was just. It was hard to think of examples. You know how it is. You know you know the thing, you know there's a whole list somewhere in your head, but when you try to think of it nothing comes.
Lyra looked out the window, staring at it didn't matter what, because she was hardly seeing anything. She was just thinking.
Ponyville sure had seemed nice when she visited. And it wasn't just a facade for the tourists. There had been something in the air. Something that made her just want to burst out into song. It was a nice place. Even if it was dinky compared to Canterlot. Even if it didn't have all the grand architecture, and museums, and history. Even if it didn't have the operas and orchestras. She didn't even want to be in an orchestra. It would be far to stiff and formal. And full of musicians. Being crammed in a room with a bunch of musicians was not Lyra's idea of a good time. So yeah, being in Ponyville wouldn't even be any kind of problem in that regard.
Lyra stiffened. She had finally reached the question that had been rolling around in her head ever since the Celebration ended. Ponyville was a nice town. A pony could make friends there, in a way she couldn't in Canterlot. Just one night had showed her that. And now that Lyra's circle of friends was down by two, it made her think.
She hated Canterlot. She hated the city as only somepony who had spent their entire life there could. It was without a doubt the worst city in Equestria, except for all the others. Probably even Ponyville. To look that nice, surely there had to be something nasty under the surface, some hidden flaw. Something to validate her thoughts as just being cautious instead of avoiding the question of whether or not to move there.
But why? What was she even waffling about? It wasn't like she could just up and leave Canterlot, even if she wanted to. And for that matter she was really kidding herself if she thought that the solution to her group of friends shrinking was to move away from them, and go to a completely new town. The ponies had been friendly, yes, but what would happen when she got to know them?
She had a better idea. She knew Canterlot. She knew the ponies of her city. What she would do—she would make a bet with herself—seeing as she was so much more familiar with this city, it stood to reason that it would easier make new friends here. She would give herself a week: one week to make a new friend. She would explore her city, if she couldn't meet anypony new anywhere in Canterlot, then she would let herself consider other options.
Lyra walked through the plaza slowly: it was an unfamiliar part of Canterlot for her. She wanted to take it all in. She found a nice bench by a fountain to sit on and ponywatch. She couldn't be idle, though. She still had pieces she needed to practice for her classes. But she didn't mind that so much right now. Playing music seemed like a sure way to spark a conversation, or at the very least draw somepony close. She pulled her lyre out of her saddlebags and began to play.
She was delighted to discover, as she began to strum the chords of a melody, that the plaza she had chosen had excellent acoustics. The lyre is not a particularly assertive instrument, but even over the noise of the ponies around her and of the fountain, she could make out the faint ringing echoes of her notes off of the buildings surrounding the square.
She felt some frustration. She realized, after an hour had gone by, that she had gotten so engrossed in her music, that she was totally unaware of everypony around her. There might have been somepony interesting walking by, or who had approached her and she wouldn't have noticed. As if that weren't enough, when she looked down there was a bit lying on the ground in front of her. No, no, no! That wasn't what she was here for. That was just embarrassing. The music trailed off.
She shook herself. What was she doing? Just waiting for somepony to come up to her and say "Hi, that's some nice music you're playing! Want to be friends?" That might have worked in magic kindergarten, but she was a grown mare, for Celestia's sake. She hopped up from her seat and scanned the crowd. Who's the most interesting pony you see? Doesn't matter who, just—there! She saw a mare walking by, and decided that her bright orange coat was a good enough reason to talk to her. Orange was a nice color, right?
"Hi there, miss! How are you today?"
The mare stopped and fidgeted. "Sorry, do I know you?"
Lyra smiled. "Nope! I just thought you looked like an interesting pony and thought I'd be friendly."
The mare smile too. Weakly. "Well, thank you. But," she looked in the direction she had been going, "listen, I actually have to get going. Have a nice day." She trotted away.
"You too," Lyra muttered after her. Well that was a bust. But that was why she had given herself a week. It wasn't like the first pony she met was going to become her new best friend.
That was what she told herself. And she kept telling it to herself as pony after pony walked by. After a while she began tallying the different excuses. There were not very many of them. A lot of the ponies, like the first mare, suddenly remembered they had to be somewhere when Lyra approached them. Then there were the ponies who didn't want whatever she was selling—plenty of those, too. And of course, she couldn't forget everypony who simply ignored her as they walked by.
Lyra was glad when the time came to go home. She realized now that she had not been sure exactly what she expected of the exercise, but she knew that those expectations had been shattered, along with a decent amount of her self-esteem.
Lyra quietly ate dinner. She remained quiet the whole evening. Even her cheer had been worn down by so many rejections. She grimaced as she lay in bed thinking of doing it again the next day. But she was a mare of her word. She had made that deal with herself and she intended to keep it. Besides, maybe she just picked a bad part of town to start in. Tomorrow she would go somewhere else. The ponies there would be friendlier, yes. A smile crept back onto her face as she fell asleep.
Failure.
Failure, failure, failure, failure.
Failure.
She didn't make it the week. She tried, she really did. But after three days she really saw no choice. She was starting to doubt if she wanted to be friends with herself. Giving up did not feel great either, but after two nights crying herself to sleep, she did not have the willpower to keep putting herself through it.
So here she sat. Once again looking at the city through her window. The city, which it now seemed did not want her. She had made many a joke at its expense before, and those mocking complaints came back to her. Before they had been sugarcoated with sarcasm, not anymore. Now it was just bitter, bitter, bitter. The air tasted bitter. Had it always been that way?
She got tired of staring through her window. She had practically worn holes in the glass by now. She went outside, and for once did not pay any attention to the ponies around her. She simply enjoyed the mild summer evening. She wound her way to one of her favorite parks on the edge of the city.
She had traded her view of the street outside her house for one of Equestria. She always enjoyed the slight sense of vertigo that came from peeking over the railings and watching the mountain plunge away underneath her. Most everypony who had lived in Canterlot for any length of time had dreamed of the city collapsing and falling. Lyra was no exception. Although she wondered if she would still consider that dream a nightmare.
But she had not come to the edge to think about falling. She had come to look. To look at the horizon, at the thick air glowing orange in the light of the setting sun.
She let her gaze fall, sweeping over miles of landscape, until she came to a village at the edge of a great forest that stretched back out to the horizon and beyond sight: Ponyville. How was Twilight doing there, she wondered. How were her new friends? Her friends that she, one of the least social ponies Lyra knew, had made without even trying.
And, well, that did not exactly leave much question, did it? To Ponyville was the answer, and always had been. There was no pretending now, that it was not what she really wanted. Now there was nothing chaining her here. She knew she wanted, had, to leave. She was still attending the University, yes, but not for much longer. There were no more obstacles—Twilight had cleared the way—only delays.
She watched Ponyville, watched the sunset out of the corner of her eye, watched Equestria as shadows lengthened into night. There were precious few views like this for non-pegasi, and she would miss it. But not enough.
Once the moon had risen (was that a wobble she saw) she turned and left. Ideas clanged around in her head, their noise eventually settling down into something with a rhythm, a plan.
The summer passed quickly. Not quickly enough for Lyra, but quickly. The air was just starting to cool, nibbling at her skin when breezes picked up, on the day she was scheduled to leave. Her friends accompanied her to the train station. Most of them, anyway. Moondancer was not there. Nor was she expected; none of them had seen so much as one hair on her tail the whole summer, so there wasn't really much of a way to tell her. But they were used to that kind of thing.
Lyra was going to miss them, and she told them so. She intended to write them. Often. She didn't have the brazenness (at least, not the right kind) to pull the same disappearing act Twilight had.
As the train pulled up, many hugs were exchanged. After all, who knew how long it would be before she was able to come and visit again? She wanted to stock up.
And, when Lyra looked back as she stepped onto the train, it was with damp eyes. And it was not just sadness at the parting. She entered the car, so much emptier than it had been at the beginning of the summer. She could have counted the other passengers on her hooves.
She heard a tapping on the window next to her. When she looked she saw Minuette's grinning face pressed against the glass. That set her giggling, and soon her grin was almost as wide (though not as white, but that's dentists for you). She waved at her friends outside. And waved and waved, until they were out of sight, and she waved a little bit longer, just in case.
It felt right, as the train curled down the mountain. It was not a sinking, it was how she imagined a ball or a rock felt falling to the ground, returning to its natural place.
Nevertheless, a few doubts nagged at her. As well as the sensation of unreality that hangs around all major shifts in life, but she banished those thoughts. Everything was prepared; she had made arrangements. She closed her eyes, felt the train rumbling, racing downward.
She did not recall falling asleep, but she must have, for it seemed that she had closed her eyes for only a few minutes, and when she opened them the train was already slowing, the brakes grinding. All was coming to rest.
She hoisted her bags, and stepped off the train. The sun was no less bright than in Canterlot, but already it seemed different, not as harsh. The town bustled before her, despite only having as many ponies as the neighborhood she was from, if that. The air was rich and earthy. She breathed it deeply.
She had sent most of her belongings ahead of her, so she did not have too much baggage to carry to the lodgings she had picked out. Which was good, because the streets were so unfamiliar, all the ones in Canterlot she had walked a thousand times. But at last she found the address of the room she had rented. She knocked, and a cream colored mare answered.
"Oh, you must be Lyra. My name is BonBon. It's nice to meet you."
