Author's Note
I want to warn you ahead of time: this is a far departure from what I normally write. If you came here strictly for a feel-good story, then this is not what you are looking for.
Aside from that, this story is a little bit of a self-insert. Dusty Pages is my OC, and many of the ailments that he speaks of are or are similar to my own. I wrote this story, like many others, from a sudden burst of inspiration I had super late in the night/early in the morning. Yes, it is a touch dark, but, I suppose that's the kind of story I wanted to write this time.
Anyways, without further adieu, I hope you enjoy!
Beauty in the Brokenness
“What is even the point of it all…”
Dusty Pages sat upon the ledge of the balcony of Canterlot Castle. The night before him was quiet, tranquil, and beautiful--the embodiment of one of Princess Luna’s finest works. The air was cool and crisp, there were sweet scents of flowers all throughout the air. Crickets could be heard chirping and owls could be heard calling out, all accentuating the magnificent, bright orb that shone in the navy-colored sky.
The earth pony’s thoughts darkened as he saw and felt all of these beautiful things around him. So many beautiful sounds, scents, sights, and feelings, and yet, there was not one drop of beauty he could find within himself. His heart no longer ached as it once had before--no. In its place was a hollow emptiness, a seemingly endless void that could not be filled with seemingly anything. “Happiness” and “joy” were words and feelings of a fleeting past… no longer could he seem to feel their embraces; a prospect that scared him more than any other.
The alabaster stallion looked down at his forehooves, and a pang of guilt and remorse ripped through him as he saw the red slash marks that decorated them. The pain had been only moderate to himself, but he anguished at the thought of the pain they would soon cause his loved ones and friends. For the blades he had used to harm his physical form may have left scars of their own--but it was not these scars that he was particularly concerned about. No… it was the wounds to his heart, the wounds to his very soul, and the scars that they would leave that made the tears fall from his eyes.
He looked out upon the city. There beneath him were hundreds of thousands, perhaps even millions of lives that went about their days with their own problems. He knew that some had financial troubles. Others were going through divorces. Some had recently had an important photo-shoot canceled, and others yet had just lost a loved one. All of the ponies of Canterlot had their troubles and ailments, as did all the creatures of all the nooks, crannies, and crevices all throughout the world.
He was no different.
Dusty looked to the sky with tears in his eyes and anger in his face. He clenched his teeth as he closed his eyes tightly, feeling every muscle in his body simultaneously contract as the emotional pain he had felt for so long reared its ugly head once again. He thought of his step-mother… and began to hear her words freshly in his mind. Words of criticism and venom, beration and belittlement, hatred… and hurt. Most damning of all to him, however, he also heard the words of joy. Of happiness. Of encouragement. The words that had come so few and far between, but also the words that kept him coming back to her every time, ready to give her another chance. The words that had opened the door to his heart every time, only for a dagger to be plunged into it with renewed ferocity and malice. Every mistake he made was measured. Every sin he committed was recorded. Every instance of supposed wrongdoing was loaded into the metaphorical rifle, and fired straight at him… every time, without fail.
He opened his eyes only to be able to see nothing clearly; the tears had clouded his vision. He blinked away several droplets of salty water, and when his vision came back anew, he once again gazed out unto the beauty of the world around him. A beauty that did not seem like it was for him…
Clop, clop, clop…
Soft hoofbeats sounded out from behind the stallion, and with the passing of a moment, a darkly colored figure sat beside him. “You are up quite late,” it stated, looking out at the same moon that Dusty now gazed upon.
It was Princess Luna.
“Yes… I am,” Dusty attempted to say in the calmest voice he could, trying to mask the horrible despair in his voice.
“Did you have trouble sleeping? Was something the matter?” Luna asked with care and mild concern, not taking her eyes away from her moon.
“Er… um… something like that…” Dusty folded his forehooves into his body as he spoke, attempting to hide the bloodied limbs from the Princess that sat with him.
“Please don’t lie to me, Dusty,” Luna’s words were accusatory, but without hate or contempt. The mare gently grabbed hold of the alabaster earth pony in her wings, and lifted him up and off the ledge and down onto the safety of the landing below. She gingerly followed, and instead of sitting beside him, sat upon her haunches before him. “I know what you have done this night.”
Dusty took one look into the eyes of the Princess, and when he saw her emerald orbs water, he let forth a cry from the very depths of his wounded soul. “I… I…” he tried to speak, but no other words would come forth. It seemed that all words, all reasons, all motivations had left him. Now… there existed only the pain of years upon years of suffering to release.
Luna gazed upon the stallion with sorrow. “Oh, my dear Dusty…” she crooned, wrapping her wings once more around him. She held his sob-wracked form against her as he released the tears of a thousand self-whippings, a thousand instances of self-flagellation, and now… a single instance of a blade, dragging across his skin…
Ten minutes passed before either of them could bring themselves to be capable of speech again. Dusty was breathing heavily, tear-stains matting the fur of his face as the blood around his forehooves continued to dry. “Princess… I… I can…”
“Be silent, precious one,” the night-colored alicorn interrupted. “There are no words that need to be said.”
The Night Princess shuffled herself to his side, and with one wing draped around him, pulled him close to her. “Life has not been kind to you,” she began. “I have seen your dreams; they reflect a reality for you that I would not wish upon my worst enemy. I have seen the faces of your tormentors, and the faces of your loved ones. I have seen the pain you inflict upon yourself from day unto day, and I have gazed upon the suffering that has been dealt unto you by those who were supposed to… who promised to love you.”
Dusty Pages scrunched his muzzle in anger and sorrow as he looked out at the darkened skyline before him. “Then you have seen my plight! Why? Why have they done to me what they have?” The stallion’s voice cracked as he cried out. “Why did they abuse me so? Why was anything I ever did never good enough for them? What motivated them to hate me, to hurt me? Why did they look each other in the eyes and promise to love me? To keep me safe? To build me up in good standing and in success?”
Memories flooded back to Dusty as he poured out his words. Memories that only exacerbated the sorrow that now left him. He saw their faces, and he recoiled. Faces that visited him in nightmares, that had smiled to him as they broke everything that he was down to ash. Faces that had promised him happiness, but that had given him suffering.
Luna ruffled her other wing as she cleared her throat. “Some ponies, you will find, live in a dream. They reside in a comfortable world of dogmatism whereby everything they say, think, and believe is absolutely and unquestionably true.” She hesitated. “I… I know this, because I was once one of those ponies.”
The earth pony looked at the alicorn quizzically.
“Yes… it is true.”
“When I was younger, I, like so many ponies before and after me, was entirely set in my mode of thinking. I believed that my ideals were perfect and that my motivations were just. I was absolutely certain in my judgements, believing them to be supported by everything and everyone I ever knew. As such… there were many ponies I hurt… without even meaning to. Anyone who stood against what I said was automatically wrong, anyone who dared question my decisions was disgraced. I ruled absolutely, and autocratically, and had it not been for the steady and guiding hooves of my sister… I am certain that I would have led Equestria to ruin.”
“It is likely that those who harm you are set in those ways. They believe that they unquestioningly know what is best for you, when in reality, all they truly know how to do is hurt you. It does not excuse what they have done to you, nor does it excuse their actions, but it should at least give you some insight into how they think. They make decisions without considering all ramifications; they use their own life experiences to dictate everything about yours. They seek knowledge without wisdom, fact without understanding. They seek to paint all the mysteries of the world as black and white, and make everything understandable to everyone… but only through their eyes.”
“I did all of these things once… and I lament that there were so many ponies that I hurt in so many ways because of my foolishness.”
Dusty pressed his cheek tightly into Luna’s neck, nuzzling her as she recalled the mistakes of her past. “That is not who you are now, though…” he croaked, his voice now hoarse from his cries.
“This is true,” Luna affirmed. “However, that is not the finale I want you to glean from any of this.”
“Because you know how it feels to be loathed… to be hated… to be abused and emotionally tortured… you now know the pains of millions of other ponies like you--you know them without even having met them. I know your heart, Dusty--it is one that yearns and longs to help others, one that seeks to make their lives easier, to alleviate their troubles and bring an end to their pains. Through experiencing the suffering you have, Dusty, you have already made more progress into helping the downtrodden and the damned than many ponies will make in their lifetimes. Because you know them, Dusty… you know them in a way no one else ever could.”
“So raise your head high, dearest one… know that there is purpose within you, that there is hope for you, and that no matter where you are…” Luna paused for a moment, and bent her neck down to meet the face of the alabaster pony. She pressed her lips gently against his cheek, humming quietly in satisfaction as she did so. “...You are loved.”
In an instant, the Princess of the Night then vanished from Dusty’s side, leaving only a gust of wind where she once sat. Dusty was red-faced perhaps more than he had ever been before, but as time passed, he slowly allowed himself to relax. Although his heart still beat fast, his muscles began to relax, his tears began to dry, and most amazingly of all…
...His lips began to curl into a smile.
Dusty looked off into the sky once again. The night before him was quiet, tranquil, and beautiful--the embodiment of one of Princess Luna’s finest works. The air was cool and crisp, there were sweet scents of flowers all throughout the air. Crickets could be heard chirping and owls could be heard calling out, all accentuating the magnificent, bright orb that shone in the navy-colored sky.
Except now, when he gazed upon all of that beauty…
...He finally found some of it within himself.
