Author's Note

My name is Fireflower and welcome to the fifth installment of my first My Little Pony fanfic that, like its predecessor and the progenitor, is rated Mature and goes beyond the typical oneshots I had made before, using canon characters as human beings instead of their normal forms: as such, I have decided to focus on one of the main characters alongside others; nevertheless, this story will be dealing with heavy subject matters unsuitable for certain readers so be warned.

As always, My Little Pony, or rather Friendship Is Magic, including its settings and characters belong to Lauren Faust and Hasbro; however, this concept of my fanfic alone belongs to me so I will say this line one time only: please do not steal this story or I will sue.

Lastly, let me also say I hope you enjoy this chapter now and stay tuned for future chapters later on: after all, you're going to be taking solace in the fact the following pattern will serve as a heads–up so to speak; besides, we've a long way to go before you can meet the rest of them.

Enharmonic

Light is the only way of how the small world worked, let along the realm that is reality in and of itself; after all, they were both interchangeable to a fault. At the very least, its absolute presence had served to provide a sense of identity for the corporeal dimensions, sensory information needed greatly at once. Now it would seem that just about everything could be found instantaneously irregardless of its very importance, imminent and otherwise so to speak of.

There was a lone metropolis now bathed in an elegant afterglow thanks to the eternal golden sun taking residence above them in the heavens with the cottony clouds traveling about in its wake. In them, the big bright blue skies contained a variety of lifeforms flying across the way over the rhythm emotion of the surface’s hustle and bustle flowing about without even so much as a care. There were towering behemoths ruling and governing their own landscape for though they were all divided, these constructs nevertheless shared the same power wielded over this very placing. Aside from a variety of vehicles running about the asphalt with its sights and sounds contributing to the atmosphere, there were ships of various sizes surfing directly across the dyed deep blue. What had made it stand out the most were the massive flocks of herons and seagulls which could run so far to and fro but couldn’t get away with even the largest of wingspans as they’d cawed. On the other side of the vast and magnificent waters where the many ships had sailed in and out of were a mountainous valley donned in a dark green growing upon the massive beautiful earth. Most importantly, the very denizens themselves were abundantly commonplace coming and going inside the city by any and all means necessary as they pleased in sheer density whatsoever.

Of the areas in question, one place in particular stood out and about: it’d been sequestered by a single road starting as a simplistic geometric corner only to cut throughout the greenery in parts unknown. On one side, a wide building on a singular story resided, basic to a fault with its brick and mortar exterior having made up the rectangular bulk while stretching on from said corner to the furthest intersection. Opposing them were a series of houses facing it, each with their own variances in acreage and materials as well as the coloring contrasting one another; nothing much else could be said about it for now.

At this present moment, a crowd of people were gathering about in front of the larger complex, every single one of them bearing their own differences in more ways than just one so to speak of; as a matter of fact, two of the individuals hereon stood out and about with attire and femininity yet they were contrasting against each other much like everyone else currently on the premises. The first of the maidenly duo bore a brightly clear skinned complexion with eyes of goldenrod and short spiky mints with a white midpoint, wearing a blue combo of a shirt, skirt, and shoes; the other was darker and shorter, bearing aquamarine orbs and long tricolor locks of purple, pink, and aqua, the only articles of clothing found were an enormous baby blue pinafore and shoes.

“Now, Star… words cannot begin to express how much I want to say how proud of you we are: it’d only seemed like yesterday you were just a little girl all alone in a big world, let alone here; even now, it makes me so sad that you’ll growing up into a beautiful woman someday soon…” the eldest of the pair sighed softly, struggling to hold back whatever liquid growing within.

The aforementioned youth in question had remained more composed yet felt infected by the very melancholy no less as she’d replied back, “please, Mama Lyra, you don’t have to cry all the time: you’re much stronger than I could ever be, even in a century or so; besides, I just can’t help wondering what it would’ve been like if my parents had been there to see me grow over time. Even now, I still miss them as well as the great friends I’d made in Ponyville, even the Apples no less: I’d never imagined the pain and suffering either of them had to go through since the war broke out, let alone risking their own destruction; I still have nightmares about her big sister but I’m getting better nonetheless because I have you and Mommy looking out for me…”

“I know and even then I know it’s only a matter of time until you leave the nest one day; the thought of it makes me feel so alone in the world…” the eponymous elder elucidated tearfully, catching a few of their collective peers off–guard so to speak, “even though we’re different, I’d still treated you like a daughter a parent could ever ask for. I love you too much to let anything bad happen to you, much less history repeating itself: I’ve been growing aware of one too many stories about families and friends being torn asunder whichever way like paper; I refuse to let any of us become a part of it…!”

“Please, you’re making a scene…” the girl struggled to breathe as she and the woman now hugging the former tightly were now getting some looks from other witnesses, a few of which were glaring for one reason or another.

Lyra soon found the patience to release Star from the grips before speaking, “have a nice half–day at school; afterwards, make sure to wait for me inside until either Bon–Bon or I return this afternoon. Don’t wander off somewhere else alone: that means no playground, no going to the stores, no hitting the fun center, no swimming at the park, and especially no heading out nearby grownup places like bars and pubs. In addition, stay away from adults standing alone on the street corners and avoid talking to strangers: there’s no telling what could be going on in their minds or what plans they have in store generally speaking; are we clear…?”

“Yes, Mama…” the youth chirped, “crystal clear…”

“See you later, Starry…!” the very woman had said before heading away from the large building across the street, turning to wave at the titular tyro whom started heading inside alongside the latter’s compeers.

It was at this point onward Lyra started trudging past the houses directly nearby herself, ecstatic to have a new destination in mind as the sounds of people younger and older started to fade out.

Halfway across from the corner, the minty woman inadvertently bumped into a masculine pedestrian, a raven haired observer peering indignantly from his sunglasses dressed in a plain white tee with blue shorts and green sandals whom barked at her, “watched where you’re going, ya fool…!”

“Sorry…!” she’d simply sputtered, “how are you…?”

“Crazy chick…!” he’d said silently in his mind, far too away and quietly for Lyra to even hear, not that she would ever be in the stationary position to know or care in the very least as far as anyone else is concerned.

With that in mind, the minty woman was free to turn corner, greeted by the sight of more houses on the right side of where she was walking compared to the left; after taking in a deep breath, she’d begun to sing:

Mythic beings fascinate me,
being just the way they are.
Tell me, little person,
can you push a cart or drive a car?
Lyres are my instrument,
but cryptids strum their sweet guitar.

It’s a mystery,
Mysticality!

Hooves, hands, horns, and heightened wingspans,
Colorful coats upon their skins.
Would it be too much to ask
to see the world they’re living in?

Everybody tells me
that it’s old and fake mythology.
It’s a mystery,
Mysticality!

Aren’t you bored of washing your throat,
Styling your hair with your hands?
I don’t mean to butt in or gloat
but ancient history stands
Creatures have wings and/or magic
They sure need it! They can spare!
All they’ve got’s imagination,
new inventions everywhere!
Infants, younglings, teens, and elders,
All alike have their clothes to wear.

It’s so real to me,
Mysticality!

August Winston,
Phimipatra,
Wanton Swingspike, Elfen Grace
Puka Flips
Baba Oceana
Who’s to say they’re all no place
Maybe cryptid like us too
And dress like us at Otacon

It’s so real to me,
Mysticality!

Yes, they’ve had plenty of fights.
No one’s perfect, you see…!
Still, I say I’m born with the rights
to study whatever I please!
I don’t need to muck around now
I’d have moved on four limbs!
I’d not trade my wonderful life for a set of new hooves!
Grab your camera: come on, zoom’s ‘dorned…
Cause your favorite gal’s a unicorn!

Me! That’s who I’d like to be!
Mysticality!

In a span of mere minutes, she’d found herself standing front of another house within the very neighborhood, much like the others albeit on the opposite side. For starters, the pattern roofing was composed of asphalt tiling colored in a sweetly silver chariot requiem with wafer–thin crystalline rectangles in moody blues. Much of the surface area had been already split into two different materials: both the white–hot woodworking and blood–red bricklaying were mostly enough. Of the quadrangular windowpanes found in clear viewing, one in particular had been adorned with a metallic awning, similar to another above the entrance. Speaking of which, a white door added the finishing touches to the very domicile, surrounded by the beauty of the brilliant green lawn, hedges, bushes, and trees.

Undeterred, Lyra entered the premises first by walking past the hedges through the congruent walkway, moving closer towards the small stairway within seconds before reaching the egress; at that point, the sunlight endured and embraced by the likes of her before could no longer follow as soon as she took refuge underneath the canopy where it’d remained abaft the goldenrod orbs.

The minty woman opened the door to find a thicker greener counterpart standing betwixt both: almost immediately, she’d pulled a small brass key and lodged it inside the lower doorknob, prompting her to turn it around until a click was heard; as a result, the inside world became clear. The background, which was serving as the foundation within the very home, let alone the entry, had been surrounded in a shade and hue lighter than her tresses combined; this had happened to make sense considering the spacious accommodations for the observant denizen in question. Underneath Lyra’s feet, the flooring was basked in a series of dark blue carpeting that had spread far beyond what she could see so to speak of; after all, it’d managed to touch all four corners yet within every fiber of their being, they were still predominately restricted to one area altogether. Adorning the surrounding at hand, the minty woman could see plenty of things in different areas: lamps near the windowsill, beige furniture on the opposite side, and a cabinet full of electronics; these were the proximate amenities chosen to inhabit inside the very area besides the likes of her. Besides the entrance she’d walked herself into, she could already notice there were at least many openings having been carved into the area, each of them serving as a gateway to other parts of the house worthy to be subjected by exploration in the eyes of individuals like and unlike her.

“Lyra, is that you; back so soon…?” yet another feminine voice reached the aforementioned listener’s ears right away, barely catching the latter by surprise, “how did it go: did you and Star happen to get everything off of your chest before the bell ranged…?”

“Mm–hmm… you know it, Bon–Bon: it brought a tear to my eye when she’d been sent off, even after all those years; in any case, what are you doing now…?” the minty woman replied, heading towards another doorway to the right after closing the door right on abaft herself to follow the voice.

As the entrant moved ever so closely towards the source, she could smell the sweetly aromas filling the air as an answer traveled amongst it, “just trying out a new ingredient for when we have to return to you–know–where; it won’t take too long so to speak. Honestly, moving to Rosemound was a nice change of pace for the three of us; it makes me sad as well that it had to come down to this: sometimes, I just wish we didn’t have to fight, let alone go to war. The other options would’ve been either Appleloosa or Rockville; of course, they’d be the kind of places frequented by a certain you–know–what.”

“Relax, it’s not that Pinkie would’ve known; besides, she’d not have been the only gal to break down over what happened to her family: AJ deserved better, even though she tried to do the–––” Lyra started speaking only to stop herself in place, fighting back fluids growing within eyesight, “anyways, I love Star Dreams to death and I’ll fight to the death if it means she’ll live happily!”

“That makes the both of us, though I’m not sure what to do once she grows up; after all, seven years can feel like much more time has passed…” the tenant talked tenaciously toward the timid traveler.

A flood of thoughts overwhelmed Lyra as she turned her eyes away from the doorway nearby; even though the morning moods bathed her, the atmosphere within the house felt wet and heavy: not even the recent stardust memories of the eager youth had stayed static long enough for long. The minty woman’s goldenrod irises became moist as the scenery had become supersaturated in texture; even the simplistic colors that made up the explored surroundings started to betray her sights as they’d swirled against one another but without even daring to mix themselves together.

Shaking about, the lone entrant grabbed onto her ears, closed her eyes, and thought to herself, “no, please, for the love of–––”

“Lyra…!” Bon–Bon’s voice spoke to the eponymous individual once again, this time more up, close, and personal than before, “are you okay…?”

It wasn’t long until the minty woman found herself greeted by the tenant face–to–face: like the former, the latter happened to be sharing the same similar traits, albeit with certain differences. Like Lyra, Bon–Bon wore her hair with two clashing colors vying for absolute dominance; however, the latter’s style was long and coiled, bearing both dark blue moon and light hot pink. The tenant’s very eyes were tender for they were colored in a true blue scheme within the rightly balanced temperatures, crystal clear like the skies and seas as above and so below respectively. Bon–Bon’s integuments were colored brightly like that of the minty counterpart standing afore, beige yet lightly tanned as they served as a balance between both the latter and Star themselves. The beige inhabitant’s attire was nothing short of only being rather simplistic to a fault currently: a royal purple blouse, a jet black skirt, and some snow white shoes served as a variance to Lyra.

“Mm–hmm…” the minty woman sighed.

Bon–Bon wasted no time whatsoever embracing Lyra, holding each other tightly as the former said, “it’s here again, isn’t it…?”

“Mm… it’s not fair: they said the medicine would help but they’re still here in my mind; even though these bastards are dead, it’s as if they cling to life…!” the minty woman wailed, catching the beige correspondent off–guard ever so slightly in the process, “there’s no telling who’s who anymore: they happened to look just like us; I couldn’t tell the difference between us and them! I never imagined how much we’ve been watched left and right, let alone have so many doubles of ourselves: there’s no telling where any of these extras had came from originally or what they were doing altogether; what if the rest of our friends and families turn out to be one of them, not to mention how they would’ve blended in?!”

“I know… the concept of fighting monsters in Equestria is nothing new so to speak, Lyra: the princesses have been up against them since this nation’s founding; of course, the whole shapeshifter idea looks like something from the Old World Folklore…” Bon–Bon had explained, soothing the titular traveler with some back rubbing.

The minty woman started to composed herself as she started to look the tanned counterpart in the eye and stated, “even so, I didn’t like how they’ve been doing things to us: tricking us all with their effortless disguises and their mimicking demeanors like if they were our neighbors; the worst part was how they’ve succeeded in fooling me…!”

“They’ve fooled us all, though they weren’t the only ones good at the art of deception if you know what I mean…” Bon–Bon replied as a teardrop had slowly started to escape out from the corner of her right eye, “our peers have been good at wearing masks too, soldiers and civilians alike. I’m still stuck trying to figure out how I didn’t even notice things at first: war crimes, terrorist attacks, rebellious revolts; if anything, I’m not unaware of the idea that we’re the only ones who’ve suffered the most. Her mother, Tristan has been an emotional wreck since the day my pupil and goddaughter, Twist, ended up in the hospital: apparently, she’s been blaming me for the soldiers on both sides killed by the likes of her simply because of the whole rigmarole of not being able to stop her; in my defense, I'd never expected her to end up at the family farm on that particular day. If I'd ever even known the things that she’d seen, then the least I could’ve done was take a picture, take Twist, and hightail it back to the shop before these bastards put two and two together about the whole thing; of course, that would mean abruptly closing up shop and get three train tickets up to Canterlot to let her know about the whole thing so to speak…”

“Bon–Bon, do you think we could’ve helped Applejack out some more…?” Lyra asked the aforementioned tenant.

A brief moment of silence escapes the tanned woman before she’d answered the minty correspondent immediately, “if we’d known sooner, then we would’ve done so and that’s the most difficult part, just being unable to anticipate the possibility of it all. Even before that day, the sheer idea of such a horrible thing happening, let alone to someone like her, was unthinkable on its own: she and her friend were the heroes we needed and deserved the most yet we weren’t there to stop the horrors from being unleashed. Besides that, there are plenty of things I can’t comprehend: the fact that we can’t go back to peaceful times or the idea that one can betray someone at a party no less; Fillydelphia is filled with such broken people left and right but at least they’re pulling themselves together.”

“Do you think that I and any of our neighbors could ever be put back together, like Applejack and Derpy…?” Lyra then said to Bon–Bon gently, looking at the large windowpane residing on the opposite side where they’d stood, “I know that I’d no problem sleeping around here and there back at my old town, but these two neighbors don’t deserve any of this pain I’d gone through…”

“I hope so; unlike us, these two were the only things closest to being family gals of the year; Applejack had a larger family compared to either of us and Derpy combined and she’d wanted her daughters to live a better life, plain and simple…” the tanned tenant tenderly told the minty counterpart, while stroking the light locks loosely.

A smile formed over Lyra’s visage as she’d turned her goldenrod eyes back onto Bon–Bon and said, “and that’s why it makes me feel bad whenever I think about them both at large. Ever since when Applejack had been chosen to bear the Element of Honesty, I never thought much about her short of being grateful for being a part of the solution when it’d came to Nightmare Moon’s return. Even before that fateful day, I’d been able to respect Derpy despite her disabilities; the fact that she’d been able to carry on raising two kids and working two jobs at the same time as a single mother is in and of itself miraculous. Having to learn how the war has taken their peace and love away from them has made me feel blessed to have you and Star Dreams still in my life; as a matter of fact, I’m still constantly reminded of all the pain their friends and family had suffered because of it, even without the media. The whole reason we’d all moved to Rosemound together wasn’t just for our safety but also to seclude ourselves from the whole idea of relieving the nightmares to the comfort of hungry journalists, especially since the industry had evolved over the years since the war broke out. It’s one thing to go and post pictures of atrocity and terror for some clout and money, but to take everything out of context and screw up the minute details, it makes the school newspaper look honest and noble by comparison which is sad considering how many children are effected because of it. Speaking of which, Star Dreams has her whole life ahead of her to look forward to so there’s no need for herself to be made into a spectacle of by photographers and videographers alike: she has normal things for youngsters her age to worry about like school, a roof over her head, some stability, friendships, and happiness; take them away and who knows what could happen later.”

“You think I don’t know that?!” the minty woman snapped before cooling down straightaway, catching the tanned correspondent off–guard, “we’d selected Star Dreams to be our daughter so we wouldn’t have to let ourselves be destroyed by the war; even then, I still can’t resist thinking about the lives we’d lost in the process and not just Bolt.”

“Me too…” Bon–Bon cried before a shrill ding pierced the both of them in the ears, breaking their unsynchronized concentration instantly.

Almost immediately, the tanned tenant trotted away back to the doorway she’d once came from, this time with Lyra following after: the noise’s source in question happened to be the kitchen. Nearby the women was a stovetop oven colored in snow white lined up uniformly underneath a binary cabinet colored in terracotta; between themselves, the space was taken by pots and pans. Directly next to it, a washbasin had stored only crystal clear yet somehow sullied water inside, an otherwise save haven for such bacteria and protozoans alike even as an adjacent window lit up. Meandering about were a quadruple slotted toaster and a wooden block filled to the brim with knives on an emerald splashed countertop abaft them, standing between cabinets and cupboards. At the farthest away from both women rested a circular dining table with a series of chairs made of the same material reminiscent of half the area’s walls as well as the bar stools nearby them. Besides the corporeality of another windowpane also found on the opposite side of the dining area, there were two doors on the adjacent side, each separated by both distance and material. Standing directly behind themselves was a jaded lonely refrigerator sharing much of the height and length of any door within this household, let alone the kitchen they were both currently in. Holding them all together now were the dimensions in this room made up of different materials: both ceiling and wall abaft painted green, the wall upfront in chalky white, and checkered floors. To top it off, the light in this room mostly came from a spinning fan residing above, providing illumination and coolness for it’d been already activated as comfort to both of the women here.

As Bon–Bon started to put on some light green mitts, the minty observer found the time to speak, “so what were you making while we were out…?”

“Brownies: I decided to try something different and add some candy pieces inside them; at least the kids would’ve liked this…” the tanned tenant talked, taking the time to open the oven before themselves so as to gain access to the foodstuff in question which had let off a sweet smell in the process, “I figured it would be nice if Twist been able to try some when we come visit.”

“Yeah, and those two as well…” Lyra sniffled as she turned her gaze away from both Bon–Bon and the baked brownies, finding the time to leave the area as well as the latter and the cooked nourishment too.

The tanned tenant walked over to the countertop to set the foodstuff on top of the emerald splashed surface; afterwards, she turned around to face the doorway Lyra entered and exited recently, staring off in thought, “I don’t know what I’d do without her; she’s the reason why I’ve been able to crawl out of bed and come home every day: that face and personality are too benign. After thinking back to what they did to Lyra, it leaves me with a sick feeling now and then: used and abused like some common plaything to be passed around like she isn’t a person, let alone a living being with real feelings and the like; not to mention, the way her stomach’s been protruding at the time. Maybe if I'd decided to have a child for Lyra, perhaps it would help make things easier for her: after all, my body is still in top physical condition for pregnancy; the only question is who should I have one with? On the other hand, Lyra might not like this whole idea: she’d already lost a child because of me and the last thing she needs is another reminder of why we can never go back home; besides, I’m still shocked about what Mercury Promenade did at the wedding years ago. Killing Cadance was one thing but killing himself to escape justice was sickening: she may have been a little angry here and there but only because she was on edge about marrying the guard captain; what fucking right did this stupid excuse of a countryman have in taking away Shining Armor’s one and only chance at true love?! All that shit he did succeeded in causing us to go back to fighting again, especially considering what these devils did to Lyra: raping and torturing her to little end in sight, not to mention they were planning to sell her and their unborn into slavery; the whole thing just succeeded in pissing me off! Yet, maybe if I’d been able to keep a closer eye on Lyra back then and there, then none of this would’ve ever even happened to her; as a matter of fact, even I could’ve been able to save that poor child of hers as well…!”

The chirping of birds was being heard outside of the windowpane as Bon–Bon tearfully stayed lost in her solitary cerebration.