It started, as most things do, as an innocent conversation between two friends.
He was there to drown his sorrows in warm apple cider.
It was a poor substitute for gems, but it was effective nonetheless.
She was there for the same reason as he, though he was an old pro by now, and she was only just beginning to learn the ropes. He had been introduced to the forgetting game by Discord, who was far more versed in the game and its numerous rules.
She slumped down a few stools down from him, and he took note of her condition out of the corner of his eyes as he sipped ever so casually from the wooden tankard.
Saying that she looked like Tartarus was being more than generous.
Her lustrous purple and pink mane, one of the few things that she, like her sister, took immense pride in, was dull and unkempt. It looked nauseatingly greasy, as if it hadn't been cared for in months.
Unblemished, soft white coat, once the envy of many mares in a thirty klick radius, was covered in so much filth and stains, which raised questions best left unasked, that little of the warm glow that was Sweetie Belle shone through.
But the most disheartening feature was her eyes. Those twin orbs of harlequin green, which had once burned with the mischievous intensity of a thousand suns, had now faded into a weak flicker of their former selves. She had been utterly and completely broken, and no force on this earth could make her whole again. Those eyes were far too familiar to the dragon for comfort.
He had seen that look in the eyes of too many creatures than he cared to count.
Himself included.
He idly fiddled with his drinking ware as he watched her call tiredly for cider.
She forwent the tankard offered to her entirely and her horn glowed a light green magic as she levitated the entire barrel from behind the counter, closing her eyes as she greedily, desperately guzzled down a good amount that would have made Berry Punch proud before she had to pause and gasp for air.
He decided to chance a few words, not entirely sure if he was doing the right thing.
"You're doing it all wrong, you know."
She paused in mid-lift of the barrel and peered blearily through the hazy light to see the similarly slumped figure seated a few stools down from her.
"And what exactly am I doing wrong?" She slurred slightly, irritated that somepony had cut into her precious time. Her time could be better spent lowering the infuriatingly high level of cider in the barrel.
It was only when the figure stood and made his way closer, wobbling ever so slightly, to sit down next to her that she realise the stranger was in fact, not only larger than even Big Mac, but not even a pony at all, he was the one and only Spike the Dragon.
"If you drink that much at once, you'll end up overloading your liver and dying a very embarrassing death of choking on your own vomit." He noted wryly.
She blinked and levitated the barrel back down behind the bar.
"If you're going to play the game, you'd better make sure that you know the rules." His voice was almost monotone, far too reserved for the usual playfulness the dragon showed.
Another blink from the confused mare. "The game? What game?"
He took another small sip, not meeting her gaze and answered, "The forgetting game, of course. What other game is there?"
She stared at him dazedly, wondering if the happy-go-lucky dragon had finally cracked. Damn, that meant she should've owed Scootaloo twenty bits.
He reached across the bar top for a small glass. Then, still not meeting her eyes, grabbed the cup of cider the bartender had first offered, which she had abandoned in her haste, and poured a small amount into the glass.
"The trick is to keep a steady level of alcohol in your system," he explained. "You know, pace yourself." He refilled his empty cup with Sweetie Belle's. "It makes staying drunk longer a lot easier."
She squinted at him skeptically, her horn glowing with magic yet again, this time for the glass as she did. "And when did you become the self-proclaimed master of binge drinking?" She downed her serving with one gulp, gritting her teeth when she finally focused on its strong taste.
He noted her reaction, grinning mirthlessly but wisely choosing to remain silent.
She dropped the empty glass down with a loud clunk. "Well?"
He scooted her tankard back towards her, and was relieved to see that she hadn't notice the huge reduction in her cup's content. "For your information, it was Discord who taught me a few things about drinking a few years back. When Big Mac started bringing apple cider to our Guys' Nights, Discord thought it was funny watching me down an entire barrel and puke up my guts." He grinned sourly.
"That was your first time drinking wasn't it? But you were barely of age!" Sweetie Belle snorted in outrage. "I can't believe that he would do that!"
Spike raised an eyebrow and glanced pointedly at the cup in Sweetie Belle's hooves. She blushed and mumbled, "It's not the same."
"Oh? Could've fooled me." There was a sarcastic bite to his words, another unusual first for the dragon. He took another sip from his cup. "You're right though."
Sweetie Belle looked up sharply at his admission. "I asked them about that, why he and Big Mac let me drink like that even though I was so young." He swirled the clear liquid in his hand absentmindedly. "He said, 'Spike, if you're considered old enough to be a Friendship Ambassador, Princess Twilight Sparkle's royal advisor, and a member of the Council of Friendship, then you're old enough to drink whatever the Tartarus you want.' I couldn't believe what he was saying at first, but when I thought about it a little, I guess he was right." He turned his head a tiny bit towards her. "I bet he would've let you down that barrel when you got your cutie mark, Sweetie Belle. You and the Crusaders were the youngest ponies to have ever been called by the Map and, to top it off, to Mount Aris for your first mission."
She nodded thoughtfully at that, "You're right, Spike. I've never thought of it like that." She cracked a rueful smile, melancholically recalling her late friends.
He grinned in a Discord-like manner, a feat he achieved for hanging out with the draconequus nearly every weekend. "Really? I always thought you were the smart one of the trio."
Sweetie Belle's temple pulsed and she gritted her teeth. Flames that rival his breath of fire seemed to form in the background as she glared at him murderously.
Seeing the look in her eyes and her cider vaporising, Spike cowered comically, flailing his arms animatedly in a desperate attempt to ward off his impending death.
"Agh! It was just a joke, Sweetie! Just a joke, for Celestia's sake!"
Her murderous aura lessened somewhat, but it still hadn't dissipated completely as she reached for the brand new tankard the bartender instinctively served. "I think I liked you better when you were an angsty drunk." She grumbled good-naturedly.
He scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "Yeah, well, I realised that I wasn't playing by the rules. I do that a lot."
"What did you call it again? The forgetting game?" She was curious. Who'd ever heard that there were rules to drinking?
He nodded. "Yup. It's this game that he came up with back before he was imprisoned in stone by Princess Celestia and Princess Luna. He told me that there's only one reason why creatures like us drink. To forget. Well, that's what I think he meant. He went through this whole complicated thing about trying to cope with living and all sorts of other stuff, but I was drunk at the time."
"Naturally." The young mare muttered under her breath as she snuck a sip.
Spike was definitely back to normal, chattering on animatedly as if he hadn't heard her. "So when I begged them to let me try a little, Big Mac just shoved a full barrel at me, and Discord started to go over the rules."
"And what are the rules exactly?" She growled impatiently. She regretted wanting to see him lighten up a little. She had forgotten how annoying it was when her students at the School of Friendship ramble on about nonsense for their half-arsed presentation, and the dragon is doing just that.
"Well, I was actually breaking the first one, before you came in." He laughed as the unicorn rolled her eyes. "No surprises there, I guess. There are so many rules, I can't keep count!"
He sat his cup down and turned to face her, looking directly in her eyes for the first time that night. He puffed himself up ridiculously and tried to adopt a dignified air.
He failed miserably but decided that the genuine smile and giggle that escaped the mare's lips were more than worth his dignity. "Rule number one, my dear student—" Spike rumbled in a somewhat passable mimicry of the spirit of chaos and disharmony. "You must never drink alone. One creature drinking alone will tend to dwell on the past, making forgetting that much harder. Having somecreature to talk with makes it so much easier. If you try to enjoy yourself, you'll forget why you had to drink in the first place."
Spike's attempt to be deep and serious had Sweetie Belle smiling so hard that she felt her face would crack in two. She laughed outright at his erratic gestures, which seemed to somehow represent the former antagonist perfectly.
He dropped the act, finishing in his normal voice. "He also said a beautiful mare was best, though any friend will do. I'm pretty sure he's got a thing for Princess Celestia." He grinned his trademark grin of his. "I think I did pretty good on both, don't you think? I landed both a friend and a beauty!"
Sweetie Belle froze in mid-laugh, a second blush, much different in nature from the first one, blazed across her face, giving her a look that was surprisingly similar to the one Spike used to have for her sister. She reached up and grabbed a hoof-full of her hair, grimacing slightly at the grease that practically poured off of each strand. She was suddenly and very painfully aware of the horrible sight she must present. "You're just saying that," she murmured softly. "I look-"
Spike had no idea the effect his words were having on his companion. In his mind, he was only trying his hardest to cheer up someone who was probably feeling as lonely as he was. "You look great, Sweetie Belle!" He assured her, as she looked surprised but not opposed to the sudden reinforcement. "Everypony knows you're the most beautiful mare in Ponyville!"
"I thought Rarity had that honour?" She asked amusedly.
Spike shrugged and looked away, suddenly uncomfortable with the turn the conversation had taken. "I said Ponyville. Rarity spends most of her time at Manehattan running Rarity For You ever since she left Carousel Boutique to Yona, you should know that."
"So, what? I'm second best, am I?" She jokingly crossed her hooves, sporting fake frown above her grin, dramatising the moment with intent to make him feel even more uncomfortable. "How ungentlemanly of you to say that."
It was working, he fidgeted as he reluctantly faced her again. Her eyes were bright again after being dull for so long. That harlequin green that was startlingly similar to his own blazed fiercely. "Second be- What are you on about?!" He blurted out. "I think you're as pretty as Rarity."
She frowned at that.
Sweetie Belle... we love you so much... please, keep on goin'... for us.
Their last wish.
Cutie Mark Crusaders, let's aim higher than anypony else, even higher than the skies!
A determined look came over her face.
I will.
"Spike!" She snapped. "We're leaving!"
The poor dragon jolted as if he'd been hit by lightning.
"Wh- Why?! We haven't even finished our cider!" He stuttered fearfully as her eyes gleamed with fiery determination. Somehow, she'd managed to project that inner fire that many dragons were so fond of. Ponyville feared the day when she finally learned how to project meaningful backdrops out of nowhere. Though most doubted that her backdrops would be as peaceful as the setting sun...
"Forget the cider!" She snarled, in full righteous wrath. "You're taking me to dinner!"
Spike bolted upright in his stool. "What?! Dinner? Bu- But-"
She jumped off her stool and threw down enough money to pay for the drinks before she proceeded to drag him out by his tail. "No buts! I'm not going to let you sit here and drown yourself in cider. It's uncivilised!" She studiously ignored his outraged roars of hypocrisy. "I'm going home to clean up and you'd better do the same. I expect you to pick me up at eight sharp! And don't you dare think of going for hay burgers or..." Her voice faded into the distance as she drug a frantic and flailing Spike out of the door and down the dusty streets, far away from the bar where they'd both spent far too much time.
They were lucky, in a way.
Many creature play the forgetting game, and not all manage to win. Granted, forgetting isn't as easy as the unicorn and dragon made it seem, but they did manage to take the first step.
They left behind their memories of life's worst hardships, in the bar with the grinning bartender and two lone tankards of apple cider. Memories of last words and lost dreams.
And really, that's what the forgetting game is all about. It's not about escaping things momentarily, but learning to let them go, preferably with the help of a friend.
END
