I Will Pass This Way Again
The alarm rang, the shrill bell screaming away, yet Gallus was already awake. He slammed a palm down onto the clock, which yielded to sweet silence with a haunting ring of the bell, fading into the air like the dreams of yesterday. He yawned widely, covering his beak with a taloned paw and lingered a little longer in his bed, staring at the heavy oak beams of the ceiling. For a few moments longer he allowed himself that moment of peace: the silence of his room only slightly disturbed by the hum of life outside.
With some effort, he grunted, rolled out of bed, and stretched out his back. Giving himself a few moments to preen, he made his way to the bathroom. The face in the mirror that looked back at him was slightly different than the one he’d seen last week. His blue feathers were fading, the yellow crests more white than they’d been before. Studying that reflection for a moment, he closed his eyes.
Time waited for no creature.
Making his way to the kitchenette of his apartment and ate a quick breakfast. The table was scattered with bills, the same that it felt like he had just paid. Yet also there were letters, some from famile, some from the dear friends he’d made all those years ago. While he picked at the filet of smoked salmon, his eyes fell on one of many pictures that decorated his walls. It was of his first year at Headmare Twilight’s academy. He smiled. How young he’d been then.
But today was a special day.
Today was the class reunion.
Making his way to the door, he grabbed a satchel packed the night before and slung it over his back. Adjusting the straps so they weren’t chafing his wings, he stepped outside. Griveridge was abuzz with activity, much as it always was, His kind flew about, argued in boisterous voices, and went about their business in much the manner they always had.
Gallus shook his head and took to the skies.
The flight took him the better part of the day, yet by the time he landed in Ponyville, near the steps to the Academy’s front door, there was already a crowd of dozens gathered. They were all species: pony, griffon, dragon, yak, and hippogryph. Their colors were as numerous as the attendees, a veritable rainbow of species that had first met those twenty long years ago.
“Gallus!”
He turned his head and smiled, gripping Sandbar in a tight hug. Time had dulled the stallion’s sea green colors a bit, but had done nothing to dampen his spirits.
“Hey pal,” he said ruffling a paw through the stallion’s shaggy mane. “Been too long. How ya been?”
Sandbar shrugged, looking up at his friend. He’d filled out over the years, and his scent was like that of an ocean breeze. He had more bags under his eyes than the last time Gallus had scene him, and a bit of a beard looked to be growing on his chin. “Pretty good. Just got back from spending the last few months living with the seaponies,” Sandbar smiled wide. “Those glamor necklaces are fantastic. So much easier to do my research when I don’t have to come up for air every few minutes.”
Gallus laughed. “Shame you didn’t just marry Silverstream. Then you’d never have an excuse to come back to the surface.”
A blush crept into Sandbar’s cheeks, but he shrugged it off. “Heh, well, she found someone else anyway. I saw her last week. She sends her apologies she couldn’t make it this year.”
Gallus raised an eyebrow. “Silver ain’t here? Why not?”
Sandbar shook his head. “Nah, she’s expecting. Should be any day now.”
“Tsh,” Gallus smirked. “Another one? I guess we can give her a pass on that, then. What about the others?”
A smirk was all the warning Sandbar gave Gallus before a sharp smack hit his flank. Jumping and making a very indignant squawk, Gallus whirled around and saw Smolder standing behind him. She had a paw on her hip and was standing with a playful smirk on her muzzle. Ocellus huddled behind her, looking apologetic.
“Old age made ya careless, Gallus,” she teased.
He gave her a glare and rose up on his hind legs to give her shoulder a punch before falling back to all fours. “And you’re still a pain in my flank, Scalebutt.”
“Literally,” Sandbar snickered.
“Hey, whose side are you on?”
Ocellus chuckled. “You two are the same as always.”
“Friends!”
The shouted warning caught them all off guard before being tackled in Yona’s neck breaking embrace.
“Yona!” Gallus gasped, frantically tapping her foreleg. “Air!”
“Oops,” the yak said, releasing the four soon after. “Sorry. Yona forget friends not yaks. Friends are fragile.”
“Still the same Yona,” Smoler laughed, though she conspicuously rubbed at her shoulder.
Together, the old friends chatted away the evening. Minutes turned to hours, their topic turning from work and family to stories of the good old days. They toured the old school building, pausing at the spot they had all first met. Gallus could still see the moment when he closed his eyes. How young they had been. How arrogant he had been. He’d regretted how he’d treated them that day, how he’d resented their very presence. Yet now, they were his dearest friends in the world. Creatures he preferred to spend his time with more than his own kind.
Together, they got dinner, and together they had piled in to a hotel room to wile away the hours. Over teas and ciders, wines and ales they talked until well past the rising of the moon. The talk turned to games, the games back to talk, and eventually someone, Gallus wasn’t sure if it was Yona or Smolder, pulled out a bottle of something far more potent.
He wasn’t sure what happened after that, only that he regretted every year of his misspent youth when he woke up in the morning.
“Ugh, why do I keep hanging out with you guys?” he groaned as he dragged himself to get some water.
“Cause misery loves company?” Sandbar offered, rubbing a hoof on his head, looking equally pained. “Can I get a refund on a few years? I don’t like being fourty.”
“Wimps,” Smolder shot back at them both, seemingly right as rain.
A heavy breakfast and enough water to drown a small village settled things back to a more comfortable state, and all was eventually forgiven. The reunion festivities carried on like that for the remainder of the weekend, and by the end when all had had their fill of food, drink, and the friends they had made along the way, so began the bittersweet partings.
“Want me to give you a ride back to the Sequestria Port?” Gallus offered Sandbar. “It’s not too far out of my way.”
The stallion shook his head. “Nah, thanks though. I know your back’s been giving you trouble.”
Gallus felt a tinge of heat in his cheeks. “Well, still. You’re not that heavy.”
“It’s fine Gallus,” Sandbar said, giving his friend a hug.
Gallus tensed at the embrace, but relaxed after a few moments. He let out a sigh and rubbed between the stallion’s shoulders a moment. The smell of the sea strong in his nose.
“You got my last letter, yeah?” Sandbar asked as they parted.
Gallus nodded. “Yeah, sorry it didn’t work out with you and that gal.”
Shrugging, Sandbar did his best to smile. “Heh, it’s alright. That’s life, right?”
“I guess,” Gallus said, though his heart ached. “We’re not getting younger, though.”
“I suppose not,” Sandbar leaned his head leaning back to look up at the skies. “But we’ll always pass this way again.” He looked back to his friend, and smiled, holding out a hoof. “Right?”
Gallus smiled and wrapped his claws around that hoof, squeezing it firmly. “Right.”
The promise didn’t make the parting any easier.
Gallus took his time flying home. And all too soon life was back to the normal grind. He worked, flew around when his back didn’t ache, and occasionally went out with other griffons where they pestered him with the usual dull conversation.
It was only a week later he got the letter from Sandbar that Silverstream had passed.
His friends were all waiting when Gallus arrived at the Seaquestria port. This time their embrace was one of shared grief. A somber Terramar was there greeting every creature with tears in his eyes. Gallus sat next to Sandbar, who had taken the loss almost as hard as her family. Even stoic Smolder had tears in her eyes.
The two days of the funeral ended with the remaining five sat in silence around a round table. They had placed a cup of tea for her with a sixth seat. A seat that each knew would never be filled.
“She was always so happy,” Ocellus said, her voice raw from the grief they all knew too well.
Gallus saw Sandbar wince, and he patted his back comfortingly. He looked up and out the window he saw a cardinal. The bird sat on a branch just outside. It’s vibrant red feathers seeming to glow in the twilight sun.
“Look,” he pointed a claw out the window. “In my village, they say when you see a cardinal, that means the spirit of your loved one is watching over you. She’s right there, letting us know she’s alright.”
Gallus didn’t know if the old superstition was true. But it seemed to give his friends a slight balm to their pain.
The next morning, the old friends were forced to part again, their number forever one fewer. Gallus lingered a little longer with Sandbar, sitting with his friend on the shoreline, watching the tide drift away.
“You always did love her,” he said.
Sandbar shook his head. “Not like that. She was like a sister to me. Taught me everything about Seaquestria.”
Gallus nodded a little, slipped his wing around his friend like a warm blanket, and simply let the silence linger.
“We really aren’t getting any younger, are we?”
“No,” Gallus answered after a long moment. He looked to his friend and offered him the best smile he could. “But we’ll always be there for each other. No matter what.”
“Yeah,” Sandbar replied, his voice soft, and a sad smile on his lips. “You ever regret it?”
“Regret what?”
“The past?”
“Some of it,” Gallus answered. “But I don’t think I’d trade away any of it. I wouldn’t have you then. Or Smolder, Yona, Ocellus…Silverstream.”
Sandbar smiled a little more. “You’re a good friend, Gallus.”
Chuckling, Gallus shrugged. “Well, don’t let that secret out.”
As the tides drew away from the rocks and shoals, so to did the old friends regretfully part once again.
Time passed. The flow of life rose and fell with the good and bad. Every year the old friends met again. The light shone bright through the window deep into the dark of night. They shared the familiar old stories of their youth, laughed at the favorite old jokes, and shared the favorite old drinks and traditions. And every year they brought a picture of the friend they had lost, but could never forget.
Each time they parted, they soothed the heartache knowing that they would always share the same sky. Be it the warm sun in the day, or the cool moon in the night. And like the moon returned most every night, so to did they return to that place again.
Time would claim another: First Yona, then Ocellus, and eventually Sandbar as well. Gallus and Smolder kept their memories with them year in and out. Four pictures sharing their table in the years to come.
When time claimed Gallus, and his body was laid to rest, Smolder saw to it his ashes were spread to the restless wind. It carried him through the great skies. Over the meadows and forests, seas and mountains. They stood like cairns of the earth itself. And together, the five passed through the quiet, old halls. Their spirits awaiting their friend to reunite in eternity.
Until then, they would keep a light shining in their window: A beacon to guide her home when she was ready to join them once more.
Author's Note
Written for Everfree Northwest Iron Author 2019
