Airport Halls and Waterfalls
The sprawling concourse of the airport was twice as large as it needed to be. It just existed to fill space, but beyond that, Rainbow Dash really didn’t feel like there was a reason it needed to be this big. Small shops lined the sides, filled with overpriced gimmicks and souvenirs mostly purchased by those who forgot to buy a gift before departing.
Paintings of skylines and storefronts dotted the walls around her. They invited her to take a shot at the moon and land amongst the stars. Rainbow came across a mural of a large, empty highway, painted by some unknown artist, and paused. It was very detailed and pretty, although the colors were all dull and faded. After some speculation, she shrugged and moved on.
Signs hung over the halls, with arrows pointing in every single direction. The hallways sprawled on and on, the rough carpet beneath her hooves leading the way to eternity. Every now and then a luggage trolley would come into view, parked by the side of the path and watching her curiously.
And through the halls she heard whispers. Ancient ones, talking of lonely creatures and lighthouse keepers, and above all, hope. She wished she could find comfort in them like she used to.
The signs told her she was currently at Gates D-1 and D-2, and a sea of chairs and benches surrounded her. Through the large glass window facing the runway, Rainbow could see a large jetliner parked at the terminal, waiting for the chance to take to the skies again. It was a bit like her, she supposed.
She trailed off the path and over to a coffee house established within the terminal. Chairs and tables littered the floor, arranged in an orderly manner. A menu hung from the ceiling, advertising drinks and foods for far too much.
Below that was a slick black countertop, polished to perfection and holding a cash register, tip jar, and a basket of napkins. The cheap brown kinds that were recyclable, even if the coffee shop itself didn’t have a recycling bin.
The rich aroma of coffee enveloped her, and for a second she was reminded of early mornings and very long days. She saw oak wood tables and cinnamon toast cereals, all through the gaze of a mind addled from not enough coffee. For a second, it felt like the cup was even watching her.
The nostalgia bothered her, so she shook it off and left. Rainbow trotted back into the terminal and crossed to the other side, where the large window was.
She went over to the glass and put her hoof against it, staring longingly at the skies outside. Clouds dotted the air like sea dragons in the sky, swimming in a sea of neptune dreams. She squinted and made out the thin line where the sky met the land, and watched as the two seemed to blur and melt together in a seamless transition.
She stood there for a few seconds more, scoping out the horizon. It reminded of a day so many years ago, when she was so sure of what was going on and where she was going. She’d give anything now to feel that again.
Because home was still far away. And despite everything she had said, she was still a bit scared to return. She’d almost rather just fly east forever. But deep in her heart, she knew that wasn’t the path for her.
Rainbow moved over to the flight attendant’s desk, the area where boarding passes were checked one final time as passengers boarded the plane. A small business card for the Nazhulian Hotel stared back at her. She poked around at some of the papers before quickly losing interest.
She collapsed in one of the seats and sighed, her eyes drifting upwards to the ceiling. Rainbow sank into her thoughts like a shipwreck at sea, frowning as she fell adrift. Things weren’t quite making sense to her. Nothing was where she expected it to be.
And for a second she was afraid. Afraid that she’d fade away like an obscure music record, lost in the rush of life and slain by the hand of time. It made her heart race and her breath hitch. But through her panic she heard the ding of an elevator, and she looked up to see the source.
From the staff elevator stepped an ever familiar yellow pegasus, who smiled at Rainbow and spoke softer than an early morning snowfall. “Hello, Rainbow.”
“Hey Flutters,” Rainbow replied with a warmth she hadn’t felt in awhile. She stood, and the two met halfway. Fluttershy gave her a quick hug, which Rainbow returned. “Didn’t think I’d find you here,” she said.
Fluttershy nodded, running a hoof through her mane. “I know. But that’s just the way things are sometimes,” she said.
Rainbow sighed, biting her lip and glancing out the window. Half of her expected an airplane to come barreling down the runway any second, before heading up and away into the sleepy skies above. “Yeah. Wish it wasn’t, though.”
“Well, what’s bothering you, Rainbow?” asked her friend.
Her eyes drifted to some of the digital schedule boards mounted on the walls, telling her of cancelled and delayed flights. “I’m just… Fluttershy, are ponies going to remember me?”
Fluttershy let out a low hum as she considered her question.
“I mean… geez, how long has it been? Haven’t they… moved on or something?”
Fluttershy guided her over to the uncomfortable seats again, and sat down next to her. “Rainbow, you’ve done so much with your life. Why are you afraid that you’ll be forgotten?”
Rainbow rubbed a foreleg absently, her eyes falling to the carpet faster than a waterfall. “Yeah, but it’s like… was it enough?”
The word left her mouth and flew lazily through the air, like a folded paper airplane. It looped and drifted throughout the empty halls and around the postcards racks. It fell past the metal detectors and over the tables before coming to rest on the floor.
“Of course it was, Rainbow.” Fluttershy sighed and stroked her friend’s back. “I know you’re scared, Rainbow, and it’s okay to be scared. Change is a scary thing.”
“I know,” Rainbow said. “I know. But I shouldn’t be scared of it, right?”
Fluttershy chuckled, light as a feather. “I think deep down we’re all scared of change, Rainbow.” A second of silence passed between them like a freight train soaring through the night.
Rainbow studied the back of her hoof intently, as if one blue fur patch would suddenly detach itself and fall away. At that moment she wanted to cry. She felt like a roundabout recluse, crying out that her hoof was on fire.
And she looked up and Fluttershy smiled at her. Her eyes shone with as much determination as an alpha wolf, yet she sat attentive as a fennec fox. “Rainbow, we’re still here for you. You know that, right?”
Rainbow nodded, and she glanced up at the screen again, flinching as Flight 6545 to Acadia switched from ‘delayed’ to ‘canceled.’ She scratched her head and sighed. “Yeah, but… I don’t want you to wait for me, you know?”
“We’ll wait however long it takes,” Fluttershy remarked with confidence. She draped a wing over Rainbow’s shoulder. “We believe in you. I believe in you.”
Rainbow closed her eyes and leaned her head against Fluttershy’s shoulder. “Thanks, Flutters. I… thanks.”
Fluttershy didn’t respond, but Rainbow smiled. There was the indistinct chime of a public address system, announcing that flight 2017 out to Arthor was departing. To Rainbow it read like a poem, talking of distant lands and fading dreams.
When she opened her eyes she was alone. Rainbow sat up and stretched her wings, before hopping out of her seat. As she glanced out the window, she noticed that the airplane she had seen was gone.
Rainbow shook her head and laughed. She trotted out of the lobby, but as she neared the exit she hesitated and looked back. For a second, Rainbow tried to imagine it full of ponies. After a few minutes she gave up and kept walking, but for a moment it did feel like they were there, watching and waiting.
