Sulfur Courtshipby GermanBrony_12ChaptersDisappearing ActA friendly NoteSunsetA Broken RecordSalvationUnionCafe VisitDisappearing ActHe’s staring at me again… The barista gave a gentle wave, looking up from his freshly-brewed coffee. It feels like every time I come, he’s there, watching me intently. Ugh, I can hardly focus on my studies with this creep haunting my thoughts. If you want something, just ask! Don’t just stare at your customer! “Troon! What are you looking at?” I turn to meet her eyes, “Huh? Oh, nothing.” “We should get going soon. Grandpa said we’re making banana bread tonight.” “One sec…… alright, let’s go.” “K. Don’t forget: you can’t get boba here without me when I go on my trip, okay?” “I won’t forget!” “Promise me you’ll never have boba without me!” “Hmmm… Alright, fine,” I chuckle, bumping her hoof to finalise the deal. I swear, even as I chat with my sister, that barista is still looking at me. ……………………………………………………………………………………………………… The second I open the door, I can smell the intense odour of pine. Grandma and Grandpa must not have thrown out the Christmas tree yet. As I enter, my grandparents greet my sister and I. They had just finished preparing the kitchen for our imminent baking escapades. We were ushered in at once to begin. We worked for a few hours on the heavenly staple food. Flour, butter, sugar, bananas, all thrown together into a perfect dough and added to the loaf-pan. Excited at the prospects of the meal, I dash to the oven where the pan must finally rest. After a full hour in the fiery inferno, it was ready. Drawing out the clean toothpick, I removed the pan from the oven and breathed in the warm banana vapours. The banana bread was perfect. We quickly went to the living room and sat down with our bread, one slice each. Within mere moments, the freshly-baked bread had vanished, and none but a few crumbs remained on the platter. After an exciting, banana bread-filled night, I finally return to my bedroom. Despite all the thrill of baking, however, my thoughts still drift toward that barista. He stares at me every day, that same warm smile stretched across his face, yet he never seems to glance at the other customers. One would think that such thoughts would keep a pony up all night, yet somehow, who knows when, I fell asleep. I have a feeling I dreamt of something, but the memories of it have long since faded from my mind. The sun tore through the blinds and forced me out of bed in a sort of half-conscious stumble. I wander into the living room and find myself greeted by a warm meal waiting on the counter. My grandparents are already up and about, taking care of all the housework faster than I can thank them for their efforts. My grandfather walks over to me as soon as he hears me every morning. “Morning, Poltroon twirl! Breakfast is all ready. Would you mind getting Quill Weaver?” “Mm,” I mumble, barely awake. I take a breath to prepare myself before gently knocking on the door. As always, I enter the room and turn on the lamp. With softened footsteps, I approach the bed, fully expecting her to somehow be under the perfectly flat covers, and place my hoof upon the bed. Wait…where is she? The bed is neatly covered by two blankets, no sign of recent use. The only thing on the bed is a small rubber duck dressed as Shui Da from “The Good Person of Sichuan.” I didn’t think she ever had rubber ducks, even as a young foal, let alone such a vicious and pragmatic character. I carefully pick up the rubber duck, only for it to violently explode in a flurry of pink gladioli, my favourite flower. Like snow, the petals gently fluttered to the ground around me. It seems quite miraculous how so many flowers could be confined by a single, meagre rubber duck. They, innumerous as the questions left at the end of a well-told tragedy, almost simultaneously end their flight upon reaching the floor of the bedroom, but despite the magician-esque display, my sister, still, was unexposed. I shook myself: now was no time for romantic thoughts. There was no trace of her anywhere in the room and, as far as I know, there’s nowhere she would be going so early in the morning. I searched every inch of the room, yet there was nothing. It was as though she had never existed in the first place. In a panic, I rushed out of the room to tell my grandparents, “Are you sure she isn’t out here? I couldn’t find even a trace of her in her room.” “I’m sure I didn’t see her, and I always hear you guys come into the living room, but you can check if you want.” Grandma spoke in a calm tone. Although difficult, I resisted the urge to waste my time explaining more thoroughly. It didn’t matter anyway; soon enough, she would understand the severity of the situation. I hurried about, checking every possible location of the four-room apartment. There was nopony in the bathroom, nopony in the kitchen, nopony but my grandparents in the living room. I could scarcely believe what lay before me: Quill Weaver was gone. “She’s really gone!” I cried, bursting out of the bathroom. I could see their eyes fill with terror in an instant. It didn’t make sense, she would never just leave like this. Something was horribly wrong. They could believe it no more than I, and, after checking the house once more to confirm, grabbed the phone and dialled 110. Swift as the U-Bahn, the case was reported and an alert sent out. My mind raced, every possible event playing itself in my head. I could do nothing but sit there, shaking, and hope for the best. The morning passed by in a flash and before I knew it, it came time for me to head to class. Still trembling, I got up, grabbed my things, and headed out the door, forsaking the two plates of cold, soggy waffles and deflated whipped cream. A friendly NoteI can’t keep focusing on things like this; I need to concentrate for the test today. I approach the university, still distracted by thoughts of my sister’s disappearance. At the very least it gives me something to think about other than that barista, but that does little to ease my worry. Upon arriving, I hear a loud crash from around the corner. I hurry toward the noise to find the hottest stallion in Equestria buried under piles of forget-me-nots and letters. “Feather Bangs!” I dive into the pile to save him. Using all of my strength, I pull the handsome stallion from the perilous flower-trap and brush the petals from his perfect mane. I freeze: what am I doing? I’ve cursed myself with the wrath of his hoards of admirers! “If you wanted a flower, you could have just asked. Though they might not grow well near someone as bright - heh-heh - as you.” I blush, turning away only to meet the startling glares of my classmates. In a panic I gallop to class, narrowly avoiding catastrophe at every turn. I made it to class but what good does it do me? I’ll still have to face my peers anyway. First the barista, then my sister, and now Featherbangs. With all the chaos around me, how can I possibly focus? I am constantly suffocated by every move I make, every event of my life. It feels inescapable at best from every possible angle. At this point I don’t stand a chance at the test, and that’s in mere minutes! A loud thud expels me from my frenzied thoughts. Smoulder stands before me, glaring at me with every ounce of hatred within her. “Listen up, Poltroon. You’d better keep your hooves off of Feather Bangs. There’s no way some lame pony like you is getting the best guy in the school.” I nod rigorously, slumping back in my seat. Without looking I can feel her eyes still fixed on me. I do my best to avoid eye contact, but in the end I have to tilt my head to check if she is still there. A wave of relief washes over me as I see that she has settled down a couple seats behind me. I suppose only an important test could stop her from returning to warn me again. Although it may benefit me for the moment, I know this test will only hurt me in the future. ……………………………………………………………………………………………………… Having finally completed my classes for the day, I walk to the cafe. It’s been months since I last went alone, and the solitude weighs down on me like a massive boulder. Sitting down at my usual spot, I look forward and see the empty seat before me. It pains me to come back here now, and every second serves as a reminder of my sister’s disappearance. As always the waitress approached my table and requested my order. I hesitate a bit: it had always been what I looked forward to each day, but I had promised my sister that I wouldn’t get boba tea without her. My heart aches and again the bitter loneliness from earlier engulfed me. “I’ll have a latte…” A few minutes later, the waitress returned with a tray. They set down the latte and, despite me not ordering it, a few red velvet cupcakes along with it. I looked up, thinking that a mistake had been made, only to see that it was not the waitress, but the barista who served me. “What’s with the cupcakes?” I asked, startled by his sudden appearance, but the barista only smiled at me before returning to his station. Puzzled by this, I inspect the dish thoroughly, but I find nothing odd about the cupcakes or the latte, which is pleasantly decorated with a frothy white duck on top. I ignore my suspicions and delight in the latte and cupcakes. Contrary to the results of my inspection, however, I feel something within the cupcake as I chew. A note, smudged and stained by the cupcake, had been planted in the scrumptious treat. “Sorry for your loss. If you need someone to sit with tomorrow, I’ll be at table 7💕.” I look to the barista, but find that he has left his station and is nowhere in the cafe. At this point, I feel nothing but loathing when I think of the barista. I can never eat in peace as a result of him staring at me, and now, my sister has vanished and I receive nothing but little hearts on a sheet of paper! I storm out of the cafe, infuriated by that barista creep. Who cares about him anyway? I’ll be laughing if he actually waits for me at that table tomorrow. At least now I have something to look forward to. In my brief moment of joy, I trot back home where I’ll finally be able to rest for a bit. I walk inside and head to the living room where my grandparents are waiting on the couch. I slow to a stop as I look to see them. They look at me, both wearing a distraught expression. “They’ve searched everywhere, used magic to check; they didn’t even find a trace of her. Poltroon Twirl, they say your sister is dead.” Author's Note I hope this chapter clears up some of your questions. There are canon characters who will appear in the future and thus are not yet tagged. SunsetAfter a restless night, I once again head to the university. As I arrive, I am immediately greeted by Feather Bangs, who stands waiting for me just outside my locker, a rose tightly clenched between his teeth. All around me, I sense the resentful glares of my peers, ready to attack if I make the wrong move. He gazes at me seductively. “Hey, Twirl! Life is a stormy sea, but you shine through the clouds and clear the tempest in my heart. Let’s enjoy this moment of calm together at the park after class,” he said, winking at me. I blushed profusely, but nodded. Is he trying to provoke them? Without a doubt, Smoulder will want to kill me! The thought of such an event compels me to leave, and I flee the scene immediately. I race back, having suddenly become ill and unable to attend my classes, only to find myself locked out of my home. I pound on the door, calling to my grandparents, but alas, they seem to have left the area. As a result, I come to wander the streets, too terrified to return to university, but during my journey, I discover that my legs have managed to take me back to that cafe. I look into the window, for a moment longing to sit down with that stallion again, to share my worries with him, and finally relax as I had last time. Beyond the table at the window, I see that unicorn, Steedplayer, alone at table seven. Is he waiting there for me even now? With great courage, I resist my temptations and gallop back to the crowded streets of the city. A glance at the lofty clocktower north of the square tells me that my classes end soon. Although I fear the consequences of my actions, I turn toward the park and proceed to meet him. —------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ From my placid resting place, I see the sun sink beneath the horizon in a fantastic display of fiery hues. Soft winds gently rustle the branches of an overhanging tree, but otherwise, the park is silent. A bitter numbness envelopes my bare hooves in its cruel attempt to lead me home, yet I find myself unable to leave. Just then, I hear hoofbeats in the distance and think, not zebra, but Feather Bangs. I turn to meet him. “Sorry I’m late,” he said, flipping his mane. “I thought I’d bring a coat, but I realised I’d always be cold - heh-heh - without you.” I run to embrace him. In the past, I knew I had to avoid him, but being alone with him now makes me never want to leave. A tear trickled down my face as I finally felt the warmth I had lacked all my life. The warmth of a parent, a sibling, a friend; nothing could compare to this. At the end of a lifelong winter, Featherbangs, my spring, had melted the ice around my heart. “Don’t cry just yet. I already watered these flowers this morning,” he chuckled. “Please… Don’t ever leave me, Featherbangs.” I hugged him tighter; I knew we couldn’t stay for long, yet I wanted to so desperately. I could tell he understood this, for he stayed there with me, not moving or speaking, and simply let me do so. My worries seemed to float away as I cried into his arms, and finally, I could be at peace. Much as I loathed the moment, we parted ways as twilight ended. I was heartbroken to leave, yet at the same time, I felt such relief after our excursion that it ultimately mattered little. Just before parting, Featherbangs wiped the tears from my eyes and left me with a kiss on the forehead, one which I shall never forget. Looking back on it, I realise that before that moment I had never received a kiss. As I walked away from the park, I couldn’t help but stop and look back. There Featherbangs stood, his silhouette accentuated by the city lights behind him, making it impossible to tell whether he looked at me or the city. Either way he stood motionless as a statue. He appeared almost angelic, a distant lamp framing his horn so perfectly that the image never quite left my mind. At last, I turned back and walked home, crossing the now empty roads of a sleeping city. Once again I felt my heart ache with loneliness, a certain inexplicable longing that claims ponies during such moments of serenity. What a cruel world, which so thoughtlessly delights in emphasising loss over gain. A Broken RecordI’ve been getting suspicious stares all day. I prefer it, of course, to the enraged assault I expected, but something about it feels worse in its own way. Perhaps it would have been poorer, had Featherbangs come to class, but both situations have their consequences. I miss Featherbangs, even after just a day, but in reality, it is dangerous to show myself around him - at least at school. Finally, the class came to a close and I left my seat to exit the room. On my way out, I passed Featherbangs’ desk. Atop it sat a single rubber duck, clothed in embroidered purple robes and a golden crown. Clearly somecreature thought it funny to display upon his desk in his absence. I cast out my hoof to remove it, but as I should have struck it, it vanished. Puzzled, I shifted back to my original task of exiting the classroom. For some reason, however, every step I took felt as though I were walking on dried petals. —------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Once again, I came to the cafe after leaving the university. The sun lay just over the horizon, illuminating the quaint shop with its warm glow. The familiar jingle of the store bells filled my ears as I approached the back of the room. Steedplayer sat at the table, engrossed in some small object he held between his hooves. He looked up at me, smiling. “Where did you go yesterday?” Suddenly, I remembered how I had seen him waiting at the table. “S-sorry…” I began, despising myself for abandoning him as I did. Steedplayer, however, merely chuckled at this. “It’s fine. Now, have a seat.” I sat down across from him and took a sip of the boba tea he handed to me. The cafe seemed especially calm today: only a couple ponies aside from us remained, and they too left within a few minutes. It was a cold winter evening, dark and dreary, yet the cafe still glowed amidst the great sea of cloudy skies and icy paths. I was distracted yet again by the actions of my partner, “What is it you hold, Steedplayer?” He looked excited as he lifted up a collection of three rubber ducks, all dressed as famous ponies of the past. “Just some old play-things I found around. They're quite fun,” he said, gazing at them with infinite engrossment. I take a look at them myself. All of them held tremendous detail, all the way down to the wrinkles of their clothes. They were, in fact, quite similar to the one I had seen earlier on the desk of Featherbangs. “They’re very cute! I swear I’ve seen one before though. Do you, by any chance, have one dressed as a king?” “Hmm… I’m not sure, I’d have to check.” Steedplayer seemed to stare at the floor for a while, perhaps envisioning his vast collection of rubber ducks so that he might find a match. Contrary to my predictions, however, he completely dropped the subject. Without warning, the conversation shifted to love. I was hopelessly dragged along and ended up weeping again over my boundless loneliness. I went on and on about Featherbangs and about my classmates; Steedplayer listened intently all the while. At the end of my miserable tale, he offered me his words of wisdom. “Love is fickle; You really ought to take care in your romantic escapades. You may feel blessed for the moment, but only a certain few will continue to love you.” “I must be lucky then; I’m sure Featherbangs is one of those few,” I say, filled with confidence. I would never admit it to him, but I quite disagree in this matter. Little was said after that and we soon parted. This time, I did not look back at him, but I could tell his smile had faded. —------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ I walked to school the following day. A light snow swirled in the sky, pushed along by an icy wind, the breath of winter. All around me, bells rang in a sort of welcome to the holidays. Hearth’s Warming Eve was just around the corner, and the city was filled with cheer because of it. It was difficult not to stop and admire it all. The charm of the holiday season makes a great distraction for a nigh tardy student like myself, and one must take care to remain focused on the task at hand in such a situation. I hurry to the university, nearly dropping my bags along the way, but it seems the holiday cheer ended long before I arrived. Crowds of students lined the hall, all anxiously chatting amongst themselves. The great vestibule had become far too loud to make out what was being said, but with a brief glance, one could easily come to understand at least part of the situation. Students ran in a panic, rushing to share the news with those who had not yet heard; everywhere I look I see the distraught and angered faces of my peers. The school has become a den of chaos. I look about to find someone whom I can ask for information from, yet everyone seems to look at me with disdain and obloquy. A raucous flapping of wings catches my attention, and I turn to meet an alarming sight of Smoulder just before receiving a hearty blow to my head, knocking me to the floor. I rise to meet my rival, but am immediately pressed down again. “You murderer!” SalvationI was utterly befuddled. How could I be a murderer? Aside from my sister, I know no creature that has died! “Who?...What?” No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t make sense of the situation. Somehow, amidst all of the chaos, I find myself wondering whether or not I really was a murderer. I begin to retrace my steps but am swiftly interrupted by another cry from Smoulder. “Featherbangs has been gone ever since you two went to that park together. Now it’s been confirmed: he’s dead! Don’t think we’re dumb enough to not see the obvious connection!” “But I-..W-what!? I d-...I had no idea he even died!” I screamed, desperate to be heard over the panicked masses that swarmed the hallways. It was true: I had previously assumed that he had fallen ill and couldn’t attend class as a result. What reason would I have for killing him? Smoulder looked furious, she leapt at me, carving my face with her vicious claws. A few of my peers joined in her attack, all believing that I had caused this tragedy. I struggled to liberate myself from their grasp, kicking and tossing myself about in a feverish attempt to break free. With great effort, I manage to escape, and flee the university in terror. I gallop to the park and collapse near the benches, drenched in blood and sweat. I let out a frenzied scream as I finally catch my breath and notice the unbearable pain which seems to emanate from every part of my body. It hurts… I can hardly think any other words as I lie on my bed of snow and ice. A few minutes later, I finally regain my senses. The cold of winter has numbed, leaving me completely incapable of feeling the pain of my injuries. Everything is just… cold. But now, what can I do? I have nowhere to go, and no creature will find me here and help. I think back to Featherbangs, who just a few days prior had held me in exactly this spot. Now I’ve come back, yet this time, I am truly alone. I sob, my tears disappearing as they become nothing but small circles in the snow; I miss him… My tears mean nothing though, do they not? Not a creature in this world will hear my cries for help and think for even a second that they should interrupt their own lives to help. What better a way to live than through selfishness? For he who has his needs fulfilled thinks not of those who are without, those who have one explanation already do not seek another out, and those who do not cry themselves hear not the cries of those who do. I spend a few moments reflecting on the series of events thrown at me, one after the other, and my mind naturally drifts back to Steedplayer. I remember now, his words to me on our first meeting. He had been right that day; now, I want nothing more than to return to him. With what little strength I have left, I force myself back onto my hooves and feel the pain and cold again. I begin to march onward, toward the cafe, compelled by what I know lies there for me: Steedplayer —------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ I crash through the door with the strength of a bull, drawing everyone’s attention to me as I head directly for table seven. A few gasps are heard from the ponies of the cafe, startled by the appearance of a blood-clad pony in so peaceful a city. Oblivious to this, I look forward and meet the eyes of that unicorn, waiting at table seven as always he had, whom I could truely put my faith in. I nearly cried upon seeing him, but, remembering my dire situation, quickly grew nervous. He motioned for me to sit down, and I immediately did so, leading him to smile at me. “What has happened, my Poltroon Twirl?” I could not respond; I was in a panic. The more I thought, the worse my situation seemed to get. In the eyes of everyone else, I was a likely candidate for Featherbangs’ murderer. After all, I was the last creature to see him, wasn’t I? At the very least, no creature knows of another who had. That alone could prove me guilty, could it not? Steedplayer could see that I was hyperventilating and asked me again what was wrong. I looked him in the eyes and felt his sincerity. It was stronger than that of Quill Weaver, of Featherbangs; this was genuine. “I-... Help.” It was all I could say. It felt like the world around me was falling apart, yet I could do nothing but fall with it. I barely felt my wounds anymore, as though they had been healed by my restless thoughts, when truly, they had long since healed. They were never even there in the first place. “You’ve returned here, just as I said. Has it come to this already, Poltroon? Tell me, what’s the matter?” “I love you,” I blurted, unable to stop myself. Was this what I had really come to say? I can’t remember what happened this morning, nor can I remember how I got here. My memory, once so clear like a photograph, appeared blurred and grey. I want to leave more than anything else, but I cannot; I don’t want to leave Steedplayer. He is my only hope, the only selfless creature in this world. I guess I really did come here to say it. “Please… Take me away from here.” “So soon? It’s funny, really. I remember you once seemed to loathe me, yet now, you come crawling to me, seeking salvation. Your love is strong… Very well, let us depart from this wretched place together.” Steedplayer got up from his chair and began to walk toward the counter of the cafe. Looking around, I notice that at some point, everyone in the cafe disappeared. There was no time to think about this though; every centimetre further he went, I felt my longing for him grow stronger. I followed him mindlessly to a small storage room in the back of the cafe. He stopped a few metres into the room, and then, the door slammed shut behind me. A faint green glow illuminated the room, allowing me to see the wide, malicious grin stretched across the face of Steedplayer. He really does look cute when he smiles. I see it now, this is what I really lacked. This joy of having someone who really cares, something I’ve been without all my life. Nothing has ever made me as happy as I am now. For the first time ever, I really feel happy. A tear of joy trickled down my face as I looked into the loving eyes of my companion. “Are you ready?” they asked, following up the question with a gentle laugh that lightly jostled the boxes of the storage room. It was then that with a great blast of green light, he, or should I say, she, revealed her true form. UnionQueen Chrysalis! In an instant, my sweetheart was gone, and in his place stood the ruler of the vile changelings herself! My tears quickly turned to those of despair as the shining reality before me faded into one as dark as a new moon. “What’s the matter, dear? Did you never notice me with all this time we’ve spent together?” she gave a shrill cackle as I looked on in terror and disbelief. “No… Steedplayer…” “You fool! The Steedplayer whom you lament like this was never real! It was I who comforted you all this time. Your love goes solely to me!” The room flashed green again as the world around me bent and twisted. I closed my eyes for a mere second, yet when I opened them next, I was somewhere entirely different. I found myself sitting atop a massive throne in an enormous chamber of the changeling hive. “What did you do to them? To Quill Weaver, and Featherbangs?” I ask, desperate to gain some level of understanding. A dim light illuminated the room, revealing its ever-shifting walls and tunnels. “Don’t worry about those ponies. They’re long gone. It’s ridiculous how you still seek answers to those silly questions of yours.” I try to turn and look around me, hoping to find some indication of their whereabouts, but I am stopped by the feeling of a hoof on my cheek. It jerks my head back to its starting position: facing Chrysalis. “Why bother with them anyway?” she asked, caressing my face. “ It’s about time you shift your focus to your queen, servant. I’ve watched as you fell madly in love with me; now you’ll do it all over again.” I stared into her, large, bug-like eyes, and for a moment I saw Steedplayer. Now I remember: Chrysalis is Steedplayer. How rude of me to act so revolted as they showed themself to me. But, really, it’s more than that. I’ve acted so hideously, like those of my life whom I so despised. I’ve become no better than any of them. I too am equally loathsome. Looking back, my memories are clear once again. Previously I had revealed myself to Steedplayer. I shamelessly showed my true self to him, and yet he stayed with me, even now. However, when my love does the same for me, I bitterly reject them, and refuse to believe that it is really them. I see it now, and for it, I despise myself. Steedplayer deserves much better than me… “Come now, Poltroon Twirl, I have a gift for you.” As she asks I follow her, but as we come to a stop, I see nothing of interest. Before I can even ask, she tells me to turn around, but even then I see nothing but an empty hall. I turn back to meet the eyes of my love, Steedplayer, smiling at me as always he had. “It’s time we finally unite forever, Twirl.” “Steedplayer!” He looked at me and chuckled a bit. Nothing was left. There was nothing in my life aside from this one moment, and nothing could ever exist without Steedplayer. I smiled back at him, wondering why my face was stained by tears, but what reason was there to focus on such trivial matters. Steedplayer waved his arm, calling me to his new location. Surely I did something outstanding in another life to receive such blessings now. Steedplayer… he even moves quickly! I follow him, trying my best not to get distracted by the mesmerising tunnels as they open and close around me, letting light in… and out. Such beautiful things; they must be angels. Though if those are angels, perhaps Steedplayer is a god. After travelling through several such angels, I find us in a beautiful room, light pouring in through the ceiling to illuminate a massive throne, decorated with cleanly cut circles. “Poltroon, from now on, I want you as my prince; I want your love and only your love.” I nod as I fall into the loving embrace of Steedplayer. His warmth reaching deep into my heart as he carries me away with him. I let myself gaze at him, his face somehow shifting between his and another’s. A moment later, he sets me down in front of an exquisite chair just next to his own. His eyes speak for him, telling me to take my spot as his prince. I’ll never leave, Steedplayer; my love is for you alone. I cry tears of joy, staring into the eyes of my King as I take my place on the fleshy throne. It’s more perfect than any throne in the world; its patchy purple and tan hairs seem to beckon me to a past I never had. Cafe Visit—-------One Week Later—------- I want to leave. It kills me to stay here, to spend each second in this disgusting world. They act so certain, as if they’ve seen the corpse themselves; how could they know she’s dead? It doesn’t make sense, yet I’m sure that deep down, I too have that same certainty. I can’t bear to open my eyes. I know that the second I do, I’ll be met with the smiling face of my sister, framed and decorated with snow-white roses. It feels a mockery to display such photos during so dismal an event. A cheerful grin borne by one who simply ceased to exist. Would they really act in such a way, had they the chance to return for but a moment and look back on their life? Finally, I gain the strength to observe my surroundings. I can’t help but notice that few here look dismayed, few weep, and really, few care. The hall is filled with friends and family, all gazing on as if at some kind of “fun night out.” It’s sickening, really. Attempting to clear the disdain from my heart, I head toward her memorial. As expected, she sat there, motionless and smiling as she stared into the void of death. I knelt down before her. “Ah, Quill Weaver, must you smile at me so as I lament your expiration? You’ve left me alone in this world, so tell me, what am I to do?” I ask her question after question, as though mad with grief, but no response could come from her: neither now, nor any point in the future. I wept at the centre of the hall, yet though I felt the puddle beneath me, none could spare a glance. The room was filled with life, and I, at the centre of it all, did naught but cast a pall over the event. I left, for I could bear it no longer, and escaped to the cafe which I came to so often. The soft jingle of bells welcomes me as I walk into the building and take a seat. I look out the window at the busy town, every creature going about their lives and laughing. I try my best to distract myself with this, but something catches my eye. In the reflection of the glass, I see the barista, staring at me from table seven. As if compelled by some uncanny force, I jerk my head around in an instant. It was true, he really had waited there. I once said I would laugh at this, but as I see it now, the only reasonable reaction is terror. It’s inexplicable, but this stallion feels wrong in every way. He smiled and gestured for me to come over. I suppose I could have been wrong about him, and I did need someone to sit with. I moved to his table and sat down across from him. Before saying anything, the waitress arrived and took our order. Still saddened by my boba-less life, I asked for a cup of pink milk. Meanwhile, the barista ordered strawberry boba tea. I felt uneasy at this, and insisted upon leaving, but something in his eyes made me want to stay, as he had asked. I sat down once again and at last, he made conversation, “I’m very sorry again about your sister. It’s quite tragic, what happened to her.” “You’ve heard? But how?” “Wasn’t it you who told me?” I suppose I must have forgotten it with all the excitement around me. After all, there’s no other way he could’ve found out. “...I-...I’d rather not think about it, if that’s okay.” “Of course. I’m sorry for mentioning it” I kept silent for a bit. The waitress arrived and gave us the drinks, however, the barista immediately switched them around, leaving me with the boba. I tried to give it back, telling him that I shouldn’t, but he insisted. “Your sister would want this for you, I assure you.” I hesitated, it was such an odd statement to come from him, but in the end, I succumbed to the alluring presence of the boba. Much as I tried to forget, my mind seemed incapable of distracting itself, and in the end, I couldn’t help but cry. I admitted everything to the barista: that I was terrified of living without her, and how I couldn’t bear this tragic fate of mine, but he only smiled at me as I said this. “Fear. It is quite powerful, is it not? It can consume you before you even notice it's there. Only the strongest can overcome it; you ought to be careful.” At this point I had finished my boba, and all I wished for was to spend my time in solitude. As I left, the barista turned to me and asked that we meet again next time. I ignored him; I felt like I shouldn’t, yet something still drew me to him. “One day, you’ll find that you want nothing more than to return here.” “...mm.” “That reminds me, we’ve forgotten to introduce ourselves. Please, call me Steedplayer.” “Poltroon Twirl.” I left him, but on my way out I was interrupted by a unicorn at the door. Starlight Glimmer caught my attention and warned me, “Listen, you might not want to get involved with that pony. I can’t say much yet, but I’m telling you, avoid him.” I looked back at the stallion and, for the first time ever, saw him glaring. This time however, it was not me, but Starlight Glimmer whom he stared at.
Disappearing ActHe’s staring at me again… The barista gave a gentle wave, looking up from his freshly-brewed coffee. It feels like every time I come, he’s there, watching me intently. Ugh, I can hardly focus on my studies with this creep haunting my thoughts. If you want something, just ask! Don’t just stare at your customer! “Troon! What are you looking at?” I turn to meet her eyes, “Huh? Oh, nothing.” “We should get going soon. Grandpa said we’re making banana bread tonight.” “One sec…… alright, let’s go.” “K. Don’t forget: you can’t get boba here without me when I go on my trip, okay?” “I won’t forget!” “Promise me you’ll never have boba without me!” “Hmmm… Alright, fine,” I chuckle, bumping her hoof to finalise the deal. I swear, even as I chat with my sister, that barista is still looking at me. ……………………………………………………………………………………………………… The second I open the door, I can smell the intense odour of pine. Grandma and Grandpa must not have thrown out the Christmas tree yet. As I enter, my grandparents greet my sister and I. They had just finished preparing the kitchen for our imminent baking escapades. We were ushered in at once to begin. We worked for a few hours on the heavenly staple food. Flour, butter, sugar, bananas, all thrown together into a perfect dough and added to the loaf-pan. Excited at the prospects of the meal, I dash to the oven where the pan must finally rest. After a full hour in the fiery inferno, it was ready. Drawing out the clean toothpick, I removed the pan from the oven and breathed in the warm banana vapours. The banana bread was perfect. We quickly went to the living room and sat down with our bread, one slice each. Within mere moments, the freshly-baked bread had vanished, and none but a few crumbs remained on the platter. After an exciting, banana bread-filled night, I finally return to my bedroom. Despite all the thrill of baking, however, my thoughts still drift toward that barista. He stares at me every day, that same warm smile stretched across his face, yet he never seems to glance at the other customers. One would think that such thoughts would keep a pony up all night, yet somehow, who knows when, I fell asleep. I have a feeling I dreamt of something, but the memories of it have long since faded from my mind. The sun tore through the blinds and forced me out of bed in a sort of half-conscious stumble. I wander into the living room and find myself greeted by a warm meal waiting on the counter. My grandparents are already up and about, taking care of all the housework faster than I can thank them for their efforts. My grandfather walks over to me as soon as he hears me every morning. “Morning, Poltroon twirl! Breakfast is all ready. Would you mind getting Quill Weaver?” “Mm,” I mumble, barely awake. I take a breath to prepare myself before gently knocking on the door. As always, I enter the room and turn on the lamp. With softened footsteps, I approach the bed, fully expecting her to somehow be under the perfectly flat covers, and place my hoof upon the bed. Wait…where is she? The bed is neatly covered by two blankets, no sign of recent use. The only thing on the bed is a small rubber duck dressed as Shui Da from “The Good Person of Sichuan.” I didn’t think she ever had rubber ducks, even as a young foal, let alone such a vicious and pragmatic character. I carefully pick up the rubber duck, only for it to violently explode in a flurry of pink gladioli, my favourite flower. Like snow, the petals gently fluttered to the ground around me. It seems quite miraculous how so many flowers could be confined by a single, meagre rubber duck. They, innumerous as the questions left at the end of a well-told tragedy, almost simultaneously end their flight upon reaching the floor of the bedroom, but despite the magician-esque display, my sister, still, was unexposed. I shook myself: now was no time for romantic thoughts. There was no trace of her anywhere in the room and, as far as I know, there’s nowhere she would be going so early in the morning. I searched every inch of the room, yet there was nothing. It was as though she had never existed in the first place. In a panic, I rushed out of the room to tell my grandparents, “Are you sure she isn’t out here? I couldn’t find even a trace of her in her room.” “I’m sure I didn’t see her, and I always hear you guys come into the living room, but you can check if you want.” Grandma spoke in a calm tone. Although difficult, I resisted the urge to waste my time explaining more thoroughly. It didn’t matter anyway; soon enough, she would understand the severity of the situation. I hurried about, checking every possible location of the four-room apartment. There was nopony in the bathroom, nopony in the kitchen, nopony but my grandparents in the living room. I could scarcely believe what lay before me: Quill Weaver was gone. “She’s really gone!” I cried, bursting out of the bathroom. I could see their eyes fill with terror in an instant. It didn’t make sense, she would never just leave like this. Something was horribly wrong. They could believe it no more than I, and, after checking the house once more to confirm, grabbed the phone and dialled 110. Swift as the U-Bahn, the case was reported and an alert sent out. My mind raced, every possible event playing itself in my head. I could do nothing but sit there, shaking, and hope for the best. The morning passed by in a flash and before I knew it, it came time for me to head to class. Still trembling, I got up, grabbed my things, and headed out the door, forsaking the two plates of cold, soggy waffles and deflated whipped cream.
A friendly NoteI can’t keep focusing on things like this; I need to concentrate for the test today. I approach the university, still distracted by thoughts of my sister’s disappearance. At the very least it gives me something to think about other than that barista, but that does little to ease my worry. Upon arriving, I hear a loud crash from around the corner. I hurry toward the noise to find the hottest stallion in Equestria buried under piles of forget-me-nots and letters. “Feather Bangs!” I dive into the pile to save him. Using all of my strength, I pull the handsome stallion from the perilous flower-trap and brush the petals from his perfect mane. I freeze: what am I doing? I’ve cursed myself with the wrath of his hoards of admirers! “If you wanted a flower, you could have just asked. Though they might not grow well near someone as bright - heh-heh - as you.” I blush, turning away only to meet the startling glares of my classmates. In a panic I gallop to class, narrowly avoiding catastrophe at every turn. I made it to class but what good does it do me? I’ll still have to face my peers anyway. First the barista, then my sister, and now Featherbangs. With all the chaos around me, how can I possibly focus? I am constantly suffocated by every move I make, every event of my life. It feels inescapable at best from every possible angle. At this point I don’t stand a chance at the test, and that’s in mere minutes! A loud thud expels me from my frenzied thoughts. Smoulder stands before me, glaring at me with every ounce of hatred within her. “Listen up, Poltroon. You’d better keep your hooves off of Feather Bangs. There’s no way some lame pony like you is getting the best guy in the school.” I nod rigorously, slumping back in my seat. Without looking I can feel her eyes still fixed on me. I do my best to avoid eye contact, but in the end I have to tilt my head to check if she is still there. A wave of relief washes over me as I see that she has settled down a couple seats behind me. I suppose only an important test could stop her from returning to warn me again. Although it may benefit me for the moment, I know this test will only hurt me in the future. ……………………………………………………………………………………………………… Having finally completed my classes for the day, I walk to the cafe. It’s been months since I last went alone, and the solitude weighs down on me like a massive boulder. Sitting down at my usual spot, I look forward and see the empty seat before me. It pains me to come back here now, and every second serves as a reminder of my sister’s disappearance. As always the waitress approached my table and requested my order. I hesitate a bit: it had always been what I looked forward to each day, but I had promised my sister that I wouldn’t get boba tea without her. My heart aches and again the bitter loneliness from earlier engulfed me. “I’ll have a latte…” A few minutes later, the waitress returned with a tray. They set down the latte and, despite me not ordering it, a few red velvet cupcakes along with it. I looked up, thinking that a mistake had been made, only to see that it was not the waitress, but the barista who served me. “What’s with the cupcakes?” I asked, startled by his sudden appearance, but the barista only smiled at me before returning to his station. Puzzled by this, I inspect the dish thoroughly, but I find nothing odd about the cupcakes or the latte, which is pleasantly decorated with a frothy white duck on top. I ignore my suspicions and delight in the latte and cupcakes. Contrary to the results of my inspection, however, I feel something within the cupcake as I chew. A note, smudged and stained by the cupcake, had been planted in the scrumptious treat. “Sorry for your loss. If you need someone to sit with tomorrow, I’ll be at table 7💕.” I look to the barista, but find that he has left his station and is nowhere in the cafe. At this point, I feel nothing but loathing when I think of the barista. I can never eat in peace as a result of him staring at me, and now, my sister has vanished and I receive nothing but little hearts on a sheet of paper! I storm out of the cafe, infuriated by that barista creep. Who cares about him anyway? I’ll be laughing if he actually waits for me at that table tomorrow. At least now I have something to look forward to. In my brief moment of joy, I trot back home where I’ll finally be able to rest for a bit. I walk inside and head to the living room where my grandparents are waiting on the couch. I slow to a stop as I look to see them. They look at me, both wearing a distraught expression. “They’ve searched everywhere, used magic to check; they didn’t even find a trace of her. Poltroon Twirl, they say your sister is dead.” Author's Note I hope this chapter clears up some of your questions. There are canon characters who will appear in the future and thus are not yet tagged.
SunsetAfter a restless night, I once again head to the university. As I arrive, I am immediately greeted by Feather Bangs, who stands waiting for me just outside my locker, a rose tightly clenched between his teeth. All around me, I sense the resentful glares of my peers, ready to attack if I make the wrong move. He gazes at me seductively. “Hey, Twirl! Life is a stormy sea, but you shine through the clouds and clear the tempest in my heart. Let’s enjoy this moment of calm together at the park after class,” he said, winking at me. I blushed profusely, but nodded. Is he trying to provoke them? Without a doubt, Smoulder will want to kill me! The thought of such an event compels me to leave, and I flee the scene immediately. I race back, having suddenly become ill and unable to attend my classes, only to find myself locked out of my home. I pound on the door, calling to my grandparents, but alas, they seem to have left the area. As a result, I come to wander the streets, too terrified to return to university, but during my journey, I discover that my legs have managed to take me back to that cafe. I look into the window, for a moment longing to sit down with that stallion again, to share my worries with him, and finally relax as I had last time. Beyond the table at the window, I see that unicorn, Steedplayer, alone at table seven. Is he waiting there for me even now? With great courage, I resist my temptations and gallop back to the crowded streets of the city. A glance at the lofty clocktower north of the square tells me that my classes end soon. Although I fear the consequences of my actions, I turn toward the park and proceed to meet him. —------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ From my placid resting place, I see the sun sink beneath the horizon in a fantastic display of fiery hues. Soft winds gently rustle the branches of an overhanging tree, but otherwise, the park is silent. A bitter numbness envelopes my bare hooves in its cruel attempt to lead me home, yet I find myself unable to leave. Just then, I hear hoofbeats in the distance and think, not zebra, but Feather Bangs. I turn to meet him. “Sorry I’m late,” he said, flipping his mane. “I thought I’d bring a coat, but I realised I’d always be cold - heh-heh - without you.” I run to embrace him. In the past, I knew I had to avoid him, but being alone with him now makes me never want to leave. A tear trickled down my face as I finally felt the warmth I had lacked all my life. The warmth of a parent, a sibling, a friend; nothing could compare to this. At the end of a lifelong winter, Featherbangs, my spring, had melted the ice around my heart. “Don’t cry just yet. I already watered these flowers this morning,” he chuckled. “Please… Don’t ever leave me, Featherbangs.” I hugged him tighter; I knew we couldn’t stay for long, yet I wanted to so desperately. I could tell he understood this, for he stayed there with me, not moving or speaking, and simply let me do so. My worries seemed to float away as I cried into his arms, and finally, I could be at peace. Much as I loathed the moment, we parted ways as twilight ended. I was heartbroken to leave, yet at the same time, I felt such relief after our excursion that it ultimately mattered little. Just before parting, Featherbangs wiped the tears from my eyes and left me with a kiss on the forehead, one which I shall never forget. Looking back on it, I realise that before that moment I had never received a kiss. As I walked away from the park, I couldn’t help but stop and look back. There Featherbangs stood, his silhouette accentuated by the city lights behind him, making it impossible to tell whether he looked at me or the city. Either way he stood motionless as a statue. He appeared almost angelic, a distant lamp framing his horn so perfectly that the image never quite left my mind. At last, I turned back and walked home, crossing the now empty roads of a sleeping city. Once again I felt my heart ache with loneliness, a certain inexplicable longing that claims ponies during such moments of serenity. What a cruel world, which so thoughtlessly delights in emphasising loss over gain.
A Broken RecordI’ve been getting suspicious stares all day. I prefer it, of course, to the enraged assault I expected, but something about it feels worse in its own way. Perhaps it would have been poorer, had Featherbangs come to class, but both situations have their consequences. I miss Featherbangs, even after just a day, but in reality, it is dangerous to show myself around him - at least at school. Finally, the class came to a close and I left my seat to exit the room. On my way out, I passed Featherbangs’ desk. Atop it sat a single rubber duck, clothed in embroidered purple robes and a golden crown. Clearly somecreature thought it funny to display upon his desk in his absence. I cast out my hoof to remove it, but as I should have struck it, it vanished. Puzzled, I shifted back to my original task of exiting the classroom. For some reason, however, every step I took felt as though I were walking on dried petals. —------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Once again, I came to the cafe after leaving the university. The sun lay just over the horizon, illuminating the quaint shop with its warm glow. The familiar jingle of the store bells filled my ears as I approached the back of the room. Steedplayer sat at the table, engrossed in some small object he held between his hooves. He looked up at me, smiling. “Where did you go yesterday?” Suddenly, I remembered how I had seen him waiting at the table. “S-sorry…” I began, despising myself for abandoning him as I did. Steedplayer, however, merely chuckled at this. “It’s fine. Now, have a seat.” I sat down across from him and took a sip of the boba tea he handed to me. The cafe seemed especially calm today: only a couple ponies aside from us remained, and they too left within a few minutes. It was a cold winter evening, dark and dreary, yet the cafe still glowed amidst the great sea of cloudy skies and icy paths. I was distracted yet again by the actions of my partner, “What is it you hold, Steedplayer?” He looked excited as he lifted up a collection of three rubber ducks, all dressed as famous ponies of the past. “Just some old play-things I found around. They're quite fun,” he said, gazing at them with infinite engrossment. I take a look at them myself. All of them held tremendous detail, all the way down to the wrinkles of their clothes. They were, in fact, quite similar to the one I had seen earlier on the desk of Featherbangs. “They’re very cute! I swear I’ve seen one before though. Do you, by any chance, have one dressed as a king?” “Hmm… I’m not sure, I’d have to check.” Steedplayer seemed to stare at the floor for a while, perhaps envisioning his vast collection of rubber ducks so that he might find a match. Contrary to my predictions, however, he completely dropped the subject. Without warning, the conversation shifted to love. I was hopelessly dragged along and ended up weeping again over my boundless loneliness. I went on and on about Featherbangs and about my classmates; Steedplayer listened intently all the while. At the end of my miserable tale, he offered me his words of wisdom. “Love is fickle; You really ought to take care in your romantic escapades. You may feel blessed for the moment, but only a certain few will continue to love you.” “I must be lucky then; I’m sure Featherbangs is one of those few,” I say, filled with confidence. I would never admit it to him, but I quite disagree in this matter. Little was said after that and we soon parted. This time, I did not look back at him, but I could tell his smile had faded. —------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ I walked to school the following day. A light snow swirled in the sky, pushed along by an icy wind, the breath of winter. All around me, bells rang in a sort of welcome to the holidays. Hearth’s Warming Eve was just around the corner, and the city was filled with cheer because of it. It was difficult not to stop and admire it all. The charm of the holiday season makes a great distraction for a nigh tardy student like myself, and one must take care to remain focused on the task at hand in such a situation. I hurry to the university, nearly dropping my bags along the way, but it seems the holiday cheer ended long before I arrived. Crowds of students lined the hall, all anxiously chatting amongst themselves. The great vestibule had become far too loud to make out what was being said, but with a brief glance, one could easily come to understand at least part of the situation. Students ran in a panic, rushing to share the news with those who had not yet heard; everywhere I look I see the distraught and angered faces of my peers. The school has become a den of chaos. I look about to find someone whom I can ask for information from, yet everyone seems to look at me with disdain and obloquy. A raucous flapping of wings catches my attention, and I turn to meet an alarming sight of Smoulder just before receiving a hearty blow to my head, knocking me to the floor. I rise to meet my rival, but am immediately pressed down again. “You murderer!”
SalvationI was utterly befuddled. How could I be a murderer? Aside from my sister, I know no creature that has died! “Who?...What?” No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t make sense of the situation. Somehow, amidst all of the chaos, I find myself wondering whether or not I really was a murderer. I begin to retrace my steps but am swiftly interrupted by another cry from Smoulder. “Featherbangs has been gone ever since you two went to that park together. Now it’s been confirmed: he’s dead! Don’t think we’re dumb enough to not see the obvious connection!” “But I-..W-what!? I d-...I had no idea he even died!” I screamed, desperate to be heard over the panicked masses that swarmed the hallways. It was true: I had previously assumed that he had fallen ill and couldn’t attend class as a result. What reason would I have for killing him? Smoulder looked furious, she leapt at me, carving my face with her vicious claws. A few of my peers joined in her attack, all believing that I had caused this tragedy. I struggled to liberate myself from their grasp, kicking and tossing myself about in a feverish attempt to break free. With great effort, I manage to escape, and flee the university in terror. I gallop to the park and collapse near the benches, drenched in blood and sweat. I let out a frenzied scream as I finally catch my breath and notice the unbearable pain which seems to emanate from every part of my body. It hurts… I can hardly think any other words as I lie on my bed of snow and ice. A few minutes later, I finally regain my senses. The cold of winter has numbed, leaving me completely incapable of feeling the pain of my injuries. Everything is just… cold. But now, what can I do? I have nowhere to go, and no creature will find me here and help. I think back to Featherbangs, who just a few days prior had held me in exactly this spot. Now I’ve come back, yet this time, I am truly alone. I sob, my tears disappearing as they become nothing but small circles in the snow; I miss him… My tears mean nothing though, do they not? Not a creature in this world will hear my cries for help and think for even a second that they should interrupt their own lives to help. What better a way to live than through selfishness? For he who has his needs fulfilled thinks not of those who are without, those who have one explanation already do not seek another out, and those who do not cry themselves hear not the cries of those who do. I spend a few moments reflecting on the series of events thrown at me, one after the other, and my mind naturally drifts back to Steedplayer. I remember now, his words to me on our first meeting. He had been right that day; now, I want nothing more than to return to him. With what little strength I have left, I force myself back onto my hooves and feel the pain and cold again. I begin to march onward, toward the cafe, compelled by what I know lies there for me: Steedplayer —------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ I crash through the door with the strength of a bull, drawing everyone’s attention to me as I head directly for table seven. A few gasps are heard from the ponies of the cafe, startled by the appearance of a blood-clad pony in so peaceful a city. Oblivious to this, I look forward and meet the eyes of that unicorn, waiting at table seven as always he had, whom I could truely put my faith in. I nearly cried upon seeing him, but, remembering my dire situation, quickly grew nervous. He motioned for me to sit down, and I immediately did so, leading him to smile at me. “What has happened, my Poltroon Twirl?” I could not respond; I was in a panic. The more I thought, the worse my situation seemed to get. In the eyes of everyone else, I was a likely candidate for Featherbangs’ murderer. After all, I was the last creature to see him, wasn’t I? At the very least, no creature knows of another who had. That alone could prove me guilty, could it not? Steedplayer could see that I was hyperventilating and asked me again what was wrong. I looked him in the eyes and felt his sincerity. It was stronger than that of Quill Weaver, of Featherbangs; this was genuine. “I-... Help.” It was all I could say. It felt like the world around me was falling apart, yet I could do nothing but fall with it. I barely felt my wounds anymore, as though they had been healed by my restless thoughts, when truly, they had long since healed. They were never even there in the first place. “You’ve returned here, just as I said. Has it come to this already, Poltroon? Tell me, what’s the matter?” “I love you,” I blurted, unable to stop myself. Was this what I had really come to say? I can’t remember what happened this morning, nor can I remember how I got here. My memory, once so clear like a photograph, appeared blurred and grey. I want to leave more than anything else, but I cannot; I don’t want to leave Steedplayer. He is my only hope, the only selfless creature in this world. I guess I really did come here to say it. “Please… Take me away from here.” “So soon? It’s funny, really. I remember you once seemed to loathe me, yet now, you come crawling to me, seeking salvation. Your love is strong… Very well, let us depart from this wretched place together.” Steedplayer got up from his chair and began to walk toward the counter of the cafe. Looking around, I notice that at some point, everyone in the cafe disappeared. There was no time to think about this though; every centimetre further he went, I felt my longing for him grow stronger. I followed him mindlessly to a small storage room in the back of the cafe. He stopped a few metres into the room, and then, the door slammed shut behind me. A faint green glow illuminated the room, allowing me to see the wide, malicious grin stretched across the face of Steedplayer. He really does look cute when he smiles. I see it now, this is what I really lacked. This joy of having someone who really cares, something I’ve been without all my life. Nothing has ever made me as happy as I am now. For the first time ever, I really feel happy. A tear of joy trickled down my face as I looked into the loving eyes of my companion. “Are you ready?” they asked, following up the question with a gentle laugh that lightly jostled the boxes of the storage room. It was then that with a great blast of green light, he, or should I say, she, revealed her true form.
UnionQueen Chrysalis! In an instant, my sweetheart was gone, and in his place stood the ruler of the vile changelings herself! My tears quickly turned to those of despair as the shining reality before me faded into one as dark as a new moon. “What’s the matter, dear? Did you never notice me with all this time we’ve spent together?” she gave a shrill cackle as I looked on in terror and disbelief. “No… Steedplayer…” “You fool! The Steedplayer whom you lament like this was never real! It was I who comforted you all this time. Your love goes solely to me!” The room flashed green again as the world around me bent and twisted. I closed my eyes for a mere second, yet when I opened them next, I was somewhere entirely different. I found myself sitting atop a massive throne in an enormous chamber of the changeling hive. “What did you do to them? To Quill Weaver, and Featherbangs?” I ask, desperate to gain some level of understanding. A dim light illuminated the room, revealing its ever-shifting walls and tunnels. “Don’t worry about those ponies. They’re long gone. It’s ridiculous how you still seek answers to those silly questions of yours.” I try to turn and look around me, hoping to find some indication of their whereabouts, but I am stopped by the feeling of a hoof on my cheek. It jerks my head back to its starting position: facing Chrysalis. “Why bother with them anyway?” she asked, caressing my face. “ It’s about time you shift your focus to your queen, servant. I’ve watched as you fell madly in love with me; now you’ll do it all over again.” I stared into her, large, bug-like eyes, and for a moment I saw Steedplayer. Now I remember: Chrysalis is Steedplayer. How rude of me to act so revolted as they showed themself to me. But, really, it’s more than that. I’ve acted so hideously, like those of my life whom I so despised. I’ve become no better than any of them. I too am equally loathsome. Looking back, my memories are clear once again. Previously I had revealed myself to Steedplayer. I shamelessly showed my true self to him, and yet he stayed with me, even now. However, when my love does the same for me, I bitterly reject them, and refuse to believe that it is really them. I see it now, and for it, I despise myself. Steedplayer deserves much better than me… “Come now, Poltroon Twirl, I have a gift for you.” As she asks I follow her, but as we come to a stop, I see nothing of interest. Before I can even ask, she tells me to turn around, but even then I see nothing but an empty hall. I turn back to meet the eyes of my love, Steedplayer, smiling at me as always he had. “It’s time we finally unite forever, Twirl.” “Steedplayer!” He looked at me and chuckled a bit. Nothing was left. There was nothing in my life aside from this one moment, and nothing could ever exist without Steedplayer. I smiled back at him, wondering why my face was stained by tears, but what reason was there to focus on such trivial matters. Steedplayer waved his arm, calling me to his new location. Surely I did something outstanding in another life to receive such blessings now. Steedplayer… he even moves quickly! I follow him, trying my best not to get distracted by the mesmerising tunnels as they open and close around me, letting light in… and out. Such beautiful things; they must be angels. Though if those are angels, perhaps Steedplayer is a god. After travelling through several such angels, I find us in a beautiful room, light pouring in through the ceiling to illuminate a massive throne, decorated with cleanly cut circles. “Poltroon, from now on, I want you as my prince; I want your love and only your love.” I nod as I fall into the loving embrace of Steedplayer. His warmth reaching deep into my heart as he carries me away with him. I let myself gaze at him, his face somehow shifting between his and another’s. A moment later, he sets me down in front of an exquisite chair just next to his own. His eyes speak for him, telling me to take my spot as his prince. I’ll never leave, Steedplayer; my love is for you alone. I cry tears of joy, staring into the eyes of my King as I take my place on the fleshy throne. It’s more perfect than any throne in the world; its patchy purple and tan hairs seem to beckon me to a past I never had.
Cafe Visit—-------One Week Later—------- I want to leave. It kills me to stay here, to spend each second in this disgusting world. They act so certain, as if they’ve seen the corpse themselves; how could they know she’s dead? It doesn’t make sense, yet I’m sure that deep down, I too have that same certainty. I can’t bear to open my eyes. I know that the second I do, I’ll be met with the smiling face of my sister, framed and decorated with snow-white roses. It feels a mockery to display such photos during so dismal an event. A cheerful grin borne by one who simply ceased to exist. Would they really act in such a way, had they the chance to return for but a moment and look back on their life? Finally, I gain the strength to observe my surroundings. I can’t help but notice that few here look dismayed, few weep, and really, few care. The hall is filled with friends and family, all gazing on as if at some kind of “fun night out.” It’s sickening, really. Attempting to clear the disdain from my heart, I head toward her memorial. As expected, she sat there, motionless and smiling as she stared into the void of death. I knelt down before her. “Ah, Quill Weaver, must you smile at me so as I lament your expiration? You’ve left me alone in this world, so tell me, what am I to do?” I ask her question after question, as though mad with grief, but no response could come from her: neither now, nor any point in the future. I wept at the centre of the hall, yet though I felt the puddle beneath me, none could spare a glance. The room was filled with life, and I, at the centre of it all, did naught but cast a pall over the event. I left, for I could bear it no longer, and escaped to the cafe which I came to so often. The soft jingle of bells welcomes me as I walk into the building and take a seat. I look out the window at the busy town, every creature going about their lives and laughing. I try my best to distract myself with this, but something catches my eye. In the reflection of the glass, I see the barista, staring at me from table seven. As if compelled by some uncanny force, I jerk my head around in an instant. It was true, he really had waited there. I once said I would laugh at this, but as I see it now, the only reasonable reaction is terror. It’s inexplicable, but this stallion feels wrong in every way. He smiled and gestured for me to come over. I suppose I could have been wrong about him, and I did need someone to sit with. I moved to his table and sat down across from him. Before saying anything, the waitress arrived and took our order. Still saddened by my boba-less life, I asked for a cup of pink milk. Meanwhile, the barista ordered strawberry boba tea. I felt uneasy at this, and insisted upon leaving, but something in his eyes made me want to stay, as he had asked. I sat down once again and at last, he made conversation, “I’m very sorry again about your sister. It’s quite tragic, what happened to her.” “You’ve heard? But how?” “Wasn’t it you who told me?” I suppose I must have forgotten it with all the excitement around me. After all, there’s no other way he could’ve found out. “...I-...I’d rather not think about it, if that’s okay.” “Of course. I’m sorry for mentioning it” I kept silent for a bit. The waitress arrived and gave us the drinks, however, the barista immediately switched them around, leaving me with the boba. I tried to give it back, telling him that I shouldn’t, but he insisted. “Your sister would want this for you, I assure you.” I hesitated, it was such an odd statement to come from him, but in the end, I succumbed to the alluring presence of the boba. Much as I tried to forget, my mind seemed incapable of distracting itself, and in the end, I couldn’t help but cry. I admitted everything to the barista: that I was terrified of living without her, and how I couldn’t bear this tragic fate of mine, but he only smiled at me as I said this. “Fear. It is quite powerful, is it not? It can consume you before you even notice it's there. Only the strongest can overcome it; you ought to be careful.” At this point I had finished my boba, and all I wished for was to spend my time in solitude. As I left, the barista turned to me and asked that we meet again next time. I ignored him; I felt like I shouldn’t, yet something still drew me to him. “One day, you’ll find that you want nothing more than to return here.” “...mm.” “That reminds me, we’ve forgotten to introduce ourselves. Please, call me Steedplayer.” “Poltroon Twirl.” I left him, but on my way out I was interrupted by a unicorn at the door. Starlight Glimmer caught my attention and warned me, “Listen, you might not want to get involved with that pony. I can’t say much yet, but I’m telling you, avoid him.” I looked back at the stallion and, for the first time ever, saw him glaring. This time however, it was not me, but Starlight Glimmer whom he stared at.
