A Lament for the Lost

by President Dead

Rating: teen
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Horror, Tragedy, Twilight Sparkle, Dark
Length: 1583

Plagued by haunting dreams of another life and another world, Twilight returns to her old therapist one final time in a desperate bid for answers.

Plagued by haunting dreams of another life and another world, Twilight returns to her old therapist one final time in a desperate bid for answers.

Published 2019-06-27 14:20:01 UTC
Last updated 2019-06-27 14:20:01 UTC

A Lament for the Lost

Twilight, it is very good to see you. It has been a long time.

Likewise, I suppose. And yes.

You have not responded to my messages. I have been worrying about you.

Yeah, I’ve been… busy. Had a lot of things on my mind.

I presume you would like to talk about them? Your preoccupations, that is?

Don’t know.

What do you not know?

Why I’m here, my reason for coming. I mean, nothing said in this room, in this… in this place has ever provided any catharsis for me in the slightest.

I am deeply sorry to hear that. I have always worked hard to assist you in all your struggles.

That’s not the point.

What is, then?

The point is that coming here does nothing for me.

Should I refer you elsewhere?

Again, you’re missing the point. This kind of thing doesn’t work. It doesn’t matter where I am or who I’m with. The agony I feel is…

Well, how are your studies coming along? You must be nearing the end of higher education by now, surely.

Didn’t we already discuss this? It’s not that I’ve lost interest, rather I’ve begun seeing a glaring futility in everything I do.

Goodness, is anything going right in your life at present?

No, of course not. But what’s happening to Equestria intrigues me, at least. Though that’s not to say it makes me feel any better knowing everypony else is probably suffering just as much as I am. There was a sense of uniqueness before, but that’s upped and left.

By “what’s happening to Equestria”, I assume you mean the matter of the stars?

Oh, it goes well beyond that. The entire night sky has been rearranged, and I think it’s done something to us ponies. Not even the daytime is safe any longer. The heavens look sick, the sun is veiled.

That would certainly explain the increased demand for counseling.

I’m curious: how many in Canterlot come to see you?

You know I cannot reveal that.

I’m not asking for names, you bureaucrat. All I want is a simple statistic. Even an approximation will do.

But to what end? I have never known you to be merely curious.

You've never known me, full stop.

I disagree, Twilight, but what I think only matters insofar as it hastens your recovery.

I am utterly alone. Who could I possibly divulge information to?

Ah, that reminds me. Are you still in contact with Princess Celestia?

Only nominally. I’m sure if I sent her a scroll, she would respond relatively quickly, however, I cannot attest to how much enthusiasm her prose will exude.

When was the last time you wrote to her?

Haven’t the foggiest. Ages ago.

Twilight, have you considered the possibility that re-establishing contact with the Princess could assist you with regard to your academic disillusionment?

I’m not “academically disillusioned.” I’m just generally disillusioned.

All the more reason.

You’ve failed to account for the fact that everypony in the world is generally disillusioned right about now. Princess Celestia was once very fond of me, and I wouldn’t want my name to appear on a list of common ponies whose troubles are stacked from the base of her throne to the ceiling.

Twilight, do you feel pointless?

Don’t patronise me. I don’t feel pointless; I am pointless. I’m adrift, without an anchor. What are you getting at?

Perhaps you should put your studies on hold for a time. You could instead dedicate yourself to solving or, at least, hypothesising about this Equestria-wide affliction.

You’re kidding, right? What do you think I’ve been doing this whole time? The very moment I got wind of this, I dropped everything and began researching, trying to find an answer.

What have you found thus far?

Embarrassingly little. The chronology is… well, it’s variable, at best. However, everypony generally agrees that it was when the constellations changed that the disaffection began. Then there’s…

What?

I’ve been having these dreams of late. About ponies I’ve never met, with whom I share the most fulfilling and significant existence. We are six pieces of a greater whole, and yet never overshadowed by that awesome knowledge. They’re in every dream. There’s a sort of… consistency.

That sounds promising. Please tell me more.

Uh… I mean, like all dreams, recollection is pretty fragmented and light-infused, but some details are just so, at the same time, clear, you know? These other ponies are all so different, both externally and internally, and both as compared to myself and to one another, yet we all, from what I remember, exist and interact in almost perfect harmony. It’s incredible, frankly, that this relationship is even conceivable on my part. I’ve never really known balance.

And how do these dreams make you feel?

Lonely. They really make me feel the lack of others, let alone significant others, in my life.

Your counterpart, Twilight, what is she like? Do you envy her?

Yes, but… there’s one other thing I recall. The Twilight of my dreams worries more than I do. And she never sleeps well because of it.

May I ask another question?

Is there anything else you do?

Would you choose that world? Over this one, that is? Supposing, of course, you were given the chance of deciding which to inhabit.

I’m… not sure. Never really thought about it, to be honest.

Twilight, in your research, did you happen to come across the recent approval of an alternate form of therapy?

I did, actually. It’s a funny idea, isn’t it?

In what sense is it funny?

I guess how… existentially significant it is, in a way. The choice of whether to take part in the therapy is subordinate to how one chooses to approach reality itself.

I am not sure I fully understand.

Well… if what I read and heard is true, this new therapy allows for permanent retreat into one’s best dreamscape. It forces one to decide which is more important: happiness or truth. That is, whether it is better to live a joyous falsehood or a miserable actuality.

Which do you consider more important?

I really couldn’t tell you. The more I think about it, the less I want to choose. The sacrifice is too great either way.

Interesting. But you are wrong on one account.

Um… what’s that?

The therapy is not a new one. Not by any means. In fact, it is infinitely old. Ponies have not existed for an awfully long time, and the treatment precedes them by perpetuity.

B-but if ponies didn’t invent the therapy, who did? Our archaeologists have found no evidence of life before us!

Oh, but they have, Twilight. So very many times. Remnants of the other civilisation – or rather, civilisations – have been unearthed over and over again by your kind. The original rulers of this planet left their marks and their relics scattered across the world, not because they were careless, but because they wanted them to be found.

What you’re saying makes no sense! If evidence had been discovered, it would have been well-documented! Everypony would know about it!

Hardly. But how can this be, I wonder? How can ponies simultaneously know and not know something? If you have been paying attention, you will be able to make an educated guess.

Don’t play games! I have no idea what you’re… oh.

There you go. You see, this is the reason for its existing. It is not only useful, but also essential to their design and to your wellbeing.

I… I can’t even…

You asked how many ponies in this city come to see me. That was the wrong question. Had you asked how many ponies in this world come to see me, I would have answered: all of them.

This is wrong. I don’t believe you. I want no part in this.

You are too late, Twilight, you are much, much too late. You were part of this even before your father emptied himself into your mother. The eggshell which encompasses your pathetic culture is such that one small tap would send it crashing down around you.

Liar! You’re lying!

Are you ready?

That’s it, I… I’m going! This has gone too far. If this is y-your idea of a joke, I cannot possibly conceive of one that is more inappropriate a-and mean-spirited than this!

Tap.

Stop it. I’m sick of this. N-now, if you’ll just show me the door, I’ll be on my way.

Hello?

Hello?

W-where did you go? Hello? I don’t find this funny! I said I don’t…!

All right, look, if you just show yourself, and then show me where the door is, I’ll forget this ever happened. I’ll never come back, but I also won’t report you or anything like that, I swear. Do we have a deal?

This isn’t funny!

Please…

Let me out of here!

Let me out! For pity’s sake, let me out of here! Where am I? What is this place?! I can’t see anything!

What did you do to me?

Is…?

W-which one is this?

Answer me! Which one is this?! Which one is it?!

I don’t know which one I am…

Oh please, p-please, can anypony hear me? I… I don’t know what I am!

W-wait, what is…?

No…

Oh no, no, no, no, no. That isn’t possible. Oh please, you can’t do this to me. You can’t show me this!

Celestia save me…

Those are… they’re not stars at all!