Faelights, Fireflies, Stars
Good evening! It’s been such a long time since I’ve seen another pony down here, and-
Whoa, easy now! I didn’t mean to startle you. It’s okay. I’m a friend. Are you lost? It’s pretty easy to get lost down here, but you’re safe, down here. Take a deep breath. Have you been down here for a long time?
Ah, that’s alright. I won’t ask what brought you beneath the City; that’s your business. You’ll figure out how things work down here. You seem like the sort to pick up on things quickly, I can tell. Just relax and take in the view.
It is midnight, somewhere up above us, towards the sky and sun and stars. I heard the tolling of the bells echo down the skyscrapers, clanging in the distant horizons. Can’t you hear them? They’re a little faint, but if you listen for them, I’m sure you’ll be able to hear them.
Of course, time doesn’t really hold any significance, since it’s always so dark we’d all be blind if we wandered outside the lantern’s reach, but somewhere, up above, I’m certain it matters to somepony.
Follow me. I don’t mind showing the way to newcomers. What kind of pony would I be if I didn’t show you around this place I call home? It’s the neighborly thing to do, and everypony could use a helping hoof sometime in their life.
See the lanterns, way up there? Some say they look menacing, with their pinkish-red glow, but I think they look like fae lights, guiding me onward. I haven’t seen the sky in months, but I remember it being... blue, I think, instead of the calming glow of the lanterns, hung on cables and wires and hooks, strung upon anything that’ll hold them.
Calm your racing thoughts, friend. So long as you stay in their light, you’ll be alright. Aren’t they pretty? They’ve always reminded me of fireflies, flickering gently in the darkness, but I’ve heard them called a great many things. I guess they mean different things to different ponies.
“Why are you down here?” I asked, kicking a rock to see how far I could. It clattered away in the darkness, and I imagined it went a great distance further than I’d expected. I couldn’t see it, so maybe it hit a wall right after it went out of sight, but some things were better in my imagination anyway.
“Ah know it’s mighty strange,” he drawled, feathers pale as a cave-fish, eyes shining with passion and joy. “Seein’ a flier underneath, with no real access to the sky n clouds, but let me tell ya, there’s nothing like down here.”
He gestured me closer, as though sharing a secret. I suppose, since I never saw him again, and I’m not sure anyone else had, either, that it was. “Above, there’s stars, but there ain’t no way to reach ‘em. But down here, where the chatter and sunlight never reaches, Ah can fly among the stars all I want. See ‘em hooked up where they belong, flickerin’ and alive, and then Ah loop around ‘em, and in between ‘em, and above some of ‘em too, if I want. Like flyin’ in the starscape itself. Here, Ah’ll show ya.”
And then his wings beat, strong and steady, and he lifted off the ground like I imagined a bird might. I watched him weave through the lanterns, over and around and above and through. And then, for a few moments, I understood. They weren’t lanterns, nor fireflies; they were tiny stars, contained in tiny glass baubles. I watched him as he soared in the distance, and struggled to comprehend further his special truth.
I sat there and waited and thought for a while, ‘til I could think no more, and until it was clear he wasn’t coming back.
Oh, don’t look so glum. Sometimes, interactions with other ponies are just that brief. I’m sure he’s okay. I rarely see the same pony twice. Or perhaps I do, and they’ve changed so much that I don’t recognize them, and they’ve taken on a different name as well.
I used to do that, you know. Changed my name a whole bunch before doing away with it altogether. In the darkness, what does it matter what I call myself? I’m not in the City, so I doubt anypony cares.
They do care about that sort of thing, though. Up there. Up, where they got sick of the ground and left it behind. Up, where they’ve built higher and higher til there are places the sun never touches. Up, where it’s rare that anything - or anyone - slips through the cracks. Though every once in a while, somepony does.
“Can you help me?”
I paused at the sound. Noises, words, babbles, baubles... faelights, stars, fireflies. It was the first sound other than the bells and my own that I’d heard in a few days. I looked for the source. It was a filly. Strange, foals didn’t usually find themselves beneath the City.
I took a deep breath, and tried to remember how talking to fillies went. “Hello there, little miss. What do you need help with?” I tried to enunciate each word, in case she had difficulties understanding the half-spoken thoughts most ponies carried with themselves underneath.
“I fell, I think. I was walking with my family and I slipped on the balcony, and the railing didn’t catch me. It was too tall! And I could hear my parents calling out to me, but we aren’t unicorns or pegasi and they tried to grab me but I was gone and I think I threw up over there, I’m sorry, and I fell on something soft and squishy and I don’t want to know what it was but it didn’t smell like anything horrible and-” She gasped, trying to catch her breath. I gave her a moment to collect the big thoughts in her little head before responding. She really was so small, I didn’t know where she fit all those words!
“It’s okay,” I soothed. “You probably landed on a pile of cloth and soft things.” Or something. I had no clue, but neither did she, so it couldn’t hurt to say something nice. “Relax, you’re safe down here. Far safer than you ever were up there.”
The filly sniffled. “R-really?”
I nodded, smiling as best as I could remember how. “Of course. Down here, there’s nowhere else to fall. Come on, I’ll show you where food is.”
She followed me, of course. I think she was just happy to see somepony. I don’t really remember what I looked like, then, but it must have consoled her somewhat. I could feel her burning up with questions, but I didn’t have any answers for her. None she’d like. Besides, there was a little flicker of hope she carried with her too, and I didn’t want that to go out.
“See these yellow lights?” I asked, waving my hoof at the large pillar, wreathed with speckling dots. “This is where the City sometimes stores food and water. It’s cooler down here, without the sunlight, and some dry foods and water store quite nicely.” I pressed a panel, and a hatch slid down. I didn’t look inside, I’d seen it before, so I watched her face light up in a flurry of conflicting emotions. It glowed in the yellow light.
She stepped forward to grab food, but I held out a hoof to stop her. “Ah, ah. There are rules. Don’t take too much food from one stockpile. Take just what you need, and then move on. There are hundreds of these down here. Eat, then keep moving. Stay in the light of the lanterns, and you’ll find more.”
Then I set down my hoof, and she leaped into the pillar. I left the panel open, turned around, and didn’t look back. She didn’t follow me further, and that was okay. I’d let somepony else tell her the bad news.
You have a question. I can see it in your eyes. It’s okay, you can ask me, you know. I didn’t know how to answer hers, but I may be able to answer yours. Or we could just keep sitting here. It’s quite up to you. I don’t mind either way, I’ve got nowhere to be.
Where do the lanterns go? That’s easy. They go forward. And so should you. They’re down here to light the way for ponies who work on the storage, and for those who fall and are never found.
It isn’t for a lack of trying, of course. Well, actually, sometimes it is. Sometimes families don’t want to come down here, out of their City where everything sparkles. They might get lost too, and they might not find their way back up again.
It’s sad, but it’s just how it goes. Don’t lie to yourself; the City is just as heartless, it’s just packaged prettier. Down here, the ponies I’ve met are honest with who they are, and I can respect that far more than any politics.
You want to go back up? I’m sorry, I should have started with that. I don’t know how. I’ve only met a few ponies that knew how, and they wouldn’t tell me how they do it. Granted, I didn’t really ask. Why would I? This is my home.
“You light the lanterns, then?” I purred, watching the unicorn fiddle with something inside the glass ornament. Faelights, fireflies, stars, whatever. Lanterns were whatever the viewer thought they were.
“Aye,” the mare said, her eyes never leaving the spell she wove into it. “Gotta keep things safe for the workers ‘n worse.”
I blinked, watching the tendrils of mana leave her horn, like wisps of smoke. “Am I the ‘worse’, then?”
She looked me in the eyes and smiled warmly. She had freckles, but there was something far more intelligent in her expression than her cute face suggested. Fearlessness. It was refreshing to see somepony truly unafraid down here. “Aye. I know you have a code and all, but I also know what you do outside the lantern’s reach. Can’t let too many of ‘em burn out.”
Shrugging, I sat down next to her. Her fur looked soft, but I resisted the urge to lean into it. She smelled of lavender and something else I couldn’t quite place. Some City scent even my nose had forgotten. “Then why, may I ask, do you only light some of the beneath? Why not let the whole place shine like the City above?”
The mare sighed as the last cotton-candy tendrils of magic left her horn. The lantern lit up, bobbing from a hook on the side of the skyscraper that went up heavens knew how far. “For the same reason we leave food down here, within reach and access for those that actually eat it.”
One of the sleeves of her apron had slid down her shoulder. I lit my horn, hidden behind glamour, and righted it again. She must’ve come down here for quite a long time, for she didn’t even flinch. “And what reason might that be?”
Her horn flickered to life with a different spell, and I took a step back. She flashed me another gentle, lazy smile, and it made my cheeks flush. Ah, camaraderie, freely given. A lovely flavor. “Because it’s easier to let you live as you are than it is to find another place for you. You take care, now.” And then she teleported up.
I craned my neck to watch the flashes of light as she went up, step by step, layer by layer of the forgotten parts of the City, until I couldn’t make them out anymore. They were stars too, of a sort, those flickers of light, but not ones I’d care to fly in between. I was already where I belonged.
You’re shivering. Are you cold? I’m sure we could find you something to warm you up. The stockpiles sometimes have jackets and things, you know. You might want to take a look.
No really, you look troubled. What seems to be the matter?
Ah. You didn’t know there were other things down here, did you? Are you looking for somepony? I could try to help you find them, if you’d like. Maybe I’ve seen them. I’ve met an awful lot of ponies, you see.
The code? Why is it important that you know what our code is now? It’s something you’ll pick up on, when you’re down here. Somepony else will tell you, if you don’t bother them too much. Are you hyperventilating? I’m sure there’s enough air down here for everypony.
A chan- My, my, you are a smart one, aren’t you? You wanted to know what our code is so badly? We don’t take the workers, the foals, or those who aren’t lost. But you, my friend, are looking quite lost, indeed. Really, I’m just glad I found you before anypony else did. Stay in the lantern-light, they told you. You’ll be safe there. Lanterns mean safety.
I’m certain the little fishies think that, too, before the angler-fish catches them.
