Down and Out
B_25
I was down as I had been so many times in my life, each one seeming like the end, though something always breaking me through on the other side. Twilight and Starlight were my closest friends in these last few years—in a distant kind of way.
I had problems of which I did not speak, for their full meaning didn't go fully heard, and the responses were never down to pat. They struck something close to right. Some truth or validation to allow me to go on. But when I came to them with repeating problems... that's when then new one arose.
The same answer given to the same problem, the groan and subtle roll of the eyes saying: “Here we go again.” Maybe they did it for show. Some jest to have fun with. But the deep moments felt more like movements as of late. Or maybe that's all on me.
I take to the halls of the castle as they are dark and without much moonlight. Giant windows pass across the side of my walking form, glimpsing me to a world empty and asleep, my greatest calls nothing but echos to the hall.
There was something wrong with me. Nothing that I could outright said was the case—only the sublte feeling of something not being quite right. I wasn't where I wanted to be. I wasn't who I wanted to be. I was still here, as I would always be. Something felt horrible about that thought alone.
I always thought there would come a time where I would head out on my own. When Twilight had left Canterlot to make friends and puruse a life, that I would also do the same, only, in my way. It would be my story with my group of friends.
Once a side-character, always a side character.
I didn't belong in the castle. Too many years had gone by and it was soon becoming time for me to leave. But to go where? The first thought was of home, our home, the very first that took us in when we came to this strange place. Where I was still small and Twilight was still without her wings.
Why couldn't we go back to the way things were?
One is supposed to get stronger as they grow older, becoming something more, helping those around the best they can, following their path ever forward. It's the progression our souls are addicted to. The sense of going forward.
But when I think of what I am to become, a dragon set to explore across the lands, away from home, no longer with her... something within me breaks. The best days of my life were spent underneath blankets cuddling and riding on her back.
I take to the opening in the hall, the opening to the baloney where I walked out, leaning my arms on its rest, gazing over the town asleep. Not many were granted this sight. None of it was through any effort of my own. Rather, it was being close to her that did the trick.
I knew she would smack my head if she knew I was thinking like this. Even I knew I shouldn't be thinking like this. But in the nights that are long and cold, without a candle lit and a snack to be had, sometimes, the mind becomes stuck in a point.
A point that likes to flash forward.
Of how all the good times are going to end. That those around soon won't be that way. Sure I could focus on myself. Getting better, becoming more, hoping something greater comes out of myself, a new sense of power or purpose able to change how I feel about everything—though that is a mere trap set by the brain.
I sigh into the night, my air becoming its steam. It faded in a few seconds. Not even the warmth of it lingered in the air. There was a metaphor in there, somewhere. But I keep my mind away from such things. Not when they cut and gut whatever hope you have left.
Twilight told me, once upon a time, when her only friend was one alone, that it doesn't matter how ponies view you. What matters most is how you view yourself. And I nodded my head for I believe it to be true.
But when it came to those long nights for her, that's when I couldn't be sure anymore, her form curled on the bed, brushing her tail, eyes inside a book, looking for some words to wish her well. When I came, speaking of how important she was, that I loved her, and that seeing her like this hurt me... she brightened up after such things.
And when she made her friends, the best ones she would hold in her life, her feeling of worth rose drastically. I haven't had such luck. Ponies tell me I matter. Tell me I'm good at what I do. But their words always feel forced. Simple sayings so they don't have to deal with my dread.
There came a thud, something loud but short, pulling my gaze back to the castle. Was someone awake? The sound wasn't nice. Decent excuse to investigate. Taking back to the hall, I carried myself down it, not caring to switch on a light, enjoying the lost into darkness.
Until I stumble into her door.
It was opened a crack, a feat done by the window kept open, the winds always keeping it from fully closing. Lightly I rapped my knuckles against the wood, not wanting to wake but inform those who were, though hearing nothing but snores coming from within.
Only, they weren't coming from the bed.
Gazing away from it, finding the source of it all wasn't hard, not when the desk of the room was placed underneath the open window. Twilight laid forward in a slump against the wood, drooling on a parchment. She shivered in her sleep. Not enough to severely disturb her.
Should I move her? No. She hates being woke back up even if it's to escort her to the bed. Rather, in glancing back to her sheets, I then waked over to them, pulling up the blanket, turning and holding it out, bringing it back to her.
And then slowly, softly, gently too, I laid it over her, watching its weight conform around her form. Twilight snuggled into it with a happy smile. She was quick to lose herself to sleep. Pleasant feelings surging from her.
I felt better about myself when I was back out the door.
Maybe I'll never figure myself out. There won't come a day of being a hero, a true and proper one, the kind I dreamed about when I was younger. Maybe I was destined to be a nobody with something a little special about him. None of these thoughts and ideas never remained consistent for long.
So long as I could help Twilight Sparkle, even if only a little... then I would be okay with that.
Author's Note
There's no point to this.
