Ah, magic school. The one place that the sunny colt dreamed of being, pursuing his magical abilities more so than he could on his own, meeting ponies outside of his two-foal friend group from home. He could sense the pride beaming from his parents, reflecting those same emotions that had been stirring ever since he had gotten his acceptance letter, and likely stronger than his own. Pride shone in his father’s dulled dark blue eyes, excitement in his mother’s green. He didn’t mind having his own fan club of three.
Little did he know that soon, said fan club would be cut short a member.
One month had already rushed by, and it was maybe five o’clock on a Thursday evening when the colt received a letter from his mother. The mail center was just about to close, and the pony at the desk had allowed him to collect his mail before the shop closed up for the night.
“Something terrible has happened to your father. I’ll be there later this evening to pick you up. This is something that you need to hear in person.”
Anxiety began to bubble up in the colt’s stomach, like an icy rock had been placed there to melt in the acids he knew was still digesting his early dinner. It was unusual for his mother to write something so brief, and her hornwriting was messier than he remembered it, as if she was late for something. Or so concerned that she could barely focus on doing so. He bit down on his lip hard and waited for the sun to stretch its amber glow across the rest of the sky.
Dad was sick. Constant waking up in the middle of the night to vomit or use the restroom, increasing weakness in his limbs, inability to stand up straight or support himself, not wanting to eat, obvious weight loss, and falling into a deep, exhaustion-filled sleep in the middle of the day had worried mom. To make matters worse, she had discovered a small, nose-sized lump on the lower right side of his abdomen, which was when she decided to take him to a doctor.
It didn’t take long for them to make the diagnoses official: liver cancer and muscular dystrophy, both late-stage. Mom had cried for hours, her sobs heard through the house. Flametail had crept into the room after getting home from school.
“Why is mom crying...?” he asked, his voice much softer than usual, a major contrast to his usual confident gusto.
“...Dad’s sick. And it’s bad.” It took the colt several long moments before answering. The night was spent with him holding his little twin brother, the two of them sharing their warmth in an uncommon gesture of affection, the sounds of their mother’s sobs continuing to echo throughout the hallways of their home.
The colt felt nothing but fear and anguish about his father. He didn’t want to lose him. He was young, but he knew just how serious it was. It didn’t help that no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t fit in with anyone at school. Starlight wasn’t there to support him, to help him like she always had. Every comment he made publicly, everything he did that he thought helped somepony else, it was always responded with a sharp retort that sliced through his heart. Was it the way he spoke? Was it the way he carried himself, behaved in class versus behind closed doors? Was it possible...that they knew about his attractions?
He was so confused ... he knows he’s supposed to like fillies, like fillies are supposed to like colts. He should, as everypony seemed to tell him. He remembered Starlight telling him just how cute she found another colt in their class back home...but instead of recoiling in disgust, like he knew he should, he found himself agreeing with her. Was it wrong, to like other colts...? An unsettling sensation crept down his spine, a familiar wave of depression washing over him. First his social ostracization, then his conflicting emotions, and now his father. He had no idea how he was supposed to deal with all of this.
It felt as though little to no time passed before the holidays were finally among them. Hearth’s Warming Eve is supposed to be special, the most wonderful time of the year, sharing gifts by a decorated tree, the fireplace warming up chilled skin from the outside weather. But it wasn’t like that for the colt and his family. His father had been fully admitted a month or so before he returned home for the holidays. Each visit, the yellow stallion looked worse and worse, more body weight dropping from him, his energy wavering, his need to vomit and urges to urinate seeming to only have increased. It broke the colt’s heart seeing somepony he loved so much suffering, and it made him even more nervous at the prospect of losing him...every time he saw him, the more apparent it became as to how serious this was. He looked over at his mother several times during their visits, and she had been just barely able to hold back tears. He’s the oldest; he needed to be strong for his family. He couldn’t cry.
That wretched day came just after the family shared gifts by each others’ side; there was no large decorated tree, no fireplace, but the only thing the colt cared about was spending this holiday with his father. He’d admit that he was a bit surprised to see that his father managed to get him and his brother gifts, likely coordinated by their mother. The gift he received was a framed photo of the family, a little piece of ruby*** bedazzling the very top of the photo. It was honestly the perfect gift, something that he knew would tie their family together no matter what happened.
But it certainly didn’t feel that way the following morning. Upon returning home, the colt had fallen asleep on the couch reading some of his favorite comics; they had always comforted him during this difficult time.
A hoof shook him awake, and when he blinked, he noticed that it was still dark. His mother stared down at him with tear-filled eyes, and her expression made his stomach lurch with anxiety. “You need to get your brother,” she whispered out.
“...How come? Is dad okay?”
“Just, please...get him.”
The colt slowly made his way up the stairs to his room, and upon seeing his brother peacefully sleeping in his bed, he knew he just couldn’t do it. Breaking the terrible news he knew that was coming to his still sleepy brother, someone who had finally been so peaceful, so calm, in the midst of all of this, made his heart crack into a million different pieces.
He slowly roused Flametail, who blinked up at him with tired green eyes. “Mom needs to tell us something.” He couldn’t stop his voice from cracking when he spoke.
Two pairs of eyes peered up at their mother, and she shook her head, breaking into a sob. “The hospital contacted me.” Her voice came out as a raspy, shaky whisper. “...And they lost dad. They couldn’t save him.”
Her voice broke on a harsh, sobbing whimper, and a startled gasp shook Flametail’s body before his ears pressed flat against his head and he pressed roughly against the colt’s side, harsh cries wracking him from ears to tail-tip. The colt wanted to run, to scream, to cry, to let his emotions give way so easily like everyone else in the room. Everything went dark, every sense blind to reality as his mother pressed up against them, curling her tail around them to bring them close.
He was soon able to snap out of it, and he instantly tore himself away from the rest of his family. He quickly made his way down the stairs, bursting outside to the front yard where the first amber glows of the sun began tickling the blades of grass. A wail ripped from his throat, a sound so pitiful and sorrowful to come from the mouth of an eleven-year-old, his body quickly wracking with sobs.
He doesn’t remember anything after that. Did his mother come to get him, to take him inside? Did the other ponies gather outside of their houses to see what was wrong? Did his brother press up against him, sharing the comfort that he seemed to be hiding away to share with those he loved for a moment like this? He had no idea. But what he did know was that it felt as though nothing was going to be okay ever again.
Author's Note
The original character listed here is Sunburst's brother; in canon he has no siblings, but to me he seems like a pony that has a lot of siblings, so I gave him one. Consider it a personal headcanon.
