It took Starlight exactly ten seconds to notice the piece of neon orange streamer paper after nudging the front door closed with a back hoof. She stared down at it, the unassuming piece of decoration resting near the leg of the coffee table. Eventually, Starlight’s mouth twisted into a frown.
She had five minutes.
Starlight moved toward the kitchen. There was another piece of streamer right by the fridge. She pulled the refrigerator door open and worked her hoof past the bright, overly-decorated lemon pound cake, and grabbed a bottle of water. She popped the cap off and drained it like a mare deprived. It didn’t improve her mood, but the freshness of it helped sturdy her well enough.
Three minutes.
Refreshed, Starlight leaned against the kitchen countertop, taking the water bottle into her magical grip. Idly, she began to rotate it every which way as she stared off blankly toward the front door. Maybe he hadn’t heard her come in? She didn’t remember shutting the front door with that much force. The water bottle began to rotate faster, the pulse of her magical grasp having increased.
She could head back out for the rest of the evening. If he hadn’t heard her come in, he wouldn’t know she’d even been back home in the first place. Starlight tipped her head to the side, contemplative.
On the other hoof, if he had heard her and she did leave back out, the follow-up conversation would be a chore. She didn’t want to stay out of the house long enough for him to have to leave for work again, either. Her eyebrows knitted together tightly. Sticking around wouldn’t be enjoyable but if she couldn’t commit to staying gone, leaving and coming back would be more of a drain. With a grunt, Starlight released the melted and deformed water bottle from her aura and pushed herself away from the counter.
She had around a minute or less, now, but it didn’t matter anymore. She’d already made it to her room and the only thing left for her to do was, well, go in. Her frown deepened. Starlight stared at and through her closed bedroom door, unmoving. When the creeping dread reached a fever pitch she exhaled, put a hoof to the door, and pushed.
“Suuuurpriiiiise!”
Starlight ducked low and angled herself away from her father’s blast of streamers and wrapped caramel bites. A few pieces of streamer still caught into her mane, which would be obnoxious to comb out later. They always were.
In front of her, Starlight’s father, Firelight, pouted.
“Oh, phooey. I was sure I had you, this year!”
Starlight didn’t respond, carefully stepping through the caramel minefield to toss her saddlebag onto her bed. Undaunted, Firelight followed right behind her, grinning ear to ear.
“Well, it doesn’t matter. Happy birthday, sweetness!”
“Thanks,” Starlight bit out after a brief silence.
“I had gotten worried for a second,” Firelight began, trying to avoid stumbling over one of Starlight’s many pairs of studded boots as he moved closer. “I heard you come in but it went really quiet for a while, there. I thought I’d have to bring the surprise to you!”
Before she could reply, Firelight pulled her into a tight hug. Starlight tensed, embarrassed, before finally draping an arm across his back. Appeased, Firelight pulled back, still grinning.
“I’m glad you didn’t.”
“Right? Where’s the fun in that?”
Starlight wasn’t given any time to react before she was hastily nudged toward the door. Firelight didn’t let up on the pressure even as he began to babble on wildly.
“I couldn’t get everything I wanted for you this year,” he said, a small bit of disappointment bleeding into his otherwise exuberant tone, “but I know you’ll just love what I could get!”
“Dad-”
“It really is a shame, though. I couldn’t even decorate your room like you like, this year. Heck, even I like the glitter banners, but nope! No store had them! It’s crazy, who doesn’t like glitter?”
“Dad-”
“And goodness, the places I had to go to find those caramel candies! I don’t know how your mother was able to find them in bulk like she used to-”
Starlight snarled and jerked away, unintentionally whapping Firelight with her tail. Firelight leaned back, rubbing his nose.
“I know how to get to the kitchen, dad.”
“Oh. My bad, Star.”
Starlight almost felt bad, seeing his stupid smile dip for a moment, but rolled her eyes as it quickly returned. Jolly once more, Firelight simply trotted forward, unbothered.
“I’m just excited! There’s one thing I was really happy I was able to get!”
Starlight trudged toward the cabinets, opening them with her magic to pull out two dinner plates. Behind her, Firelight made a show of looking through the fridge.
“Now, where could it be?”
Starlight hauled herself onto one of the bar stools and leaned against the counter. She set her plate down in front of her and set Firelight’s toward the counter edge across from her.
“I was sure I put it in here…”
Starlight leaned against her hoof and closed her eyes.
“I sure hope I didn’t lose it! Oh, that’d be just awful-”
Without missing a beat, Starlight opened her eyes. Firelight spun around just afterward, a gaudy orange, green, and pink cake encased in his magic.
“Ah-hah!”
Starlight blinked slowly as Firelight bore the cake to the world with nothing but pride. Eventually, he sat it down on the counter, levitating a knife from the drawer beside the fridge. He looked to Starlight, giddiness painted all over his features. Starlight slowly pushed her plate forward.
“Today is as good a day as any to splurge a little bit, dont’cha think?”
He cut a hefty chunk into the cake before Starlight could even twitch. The absolute wedge of a slice is plopped onto her plate, the thick and creamy icing splattering onto the counter a little. Starlight pulled the plate back in front of her as Firelight fished through the drawer for a pair of forks.
Forks found, Firelight cut his own piece of cake and set it down on his plate. Humming, he moved his plate next to Starlight’s own, pulling his chair up beside her. Starlight wrestled her fork from his magic and stared down at her massive slice of cake. She didn’t have to look up to know Firelight would be eyeballing her expectantly, so she grit her teeth, skewered a corner of the cake slice, and shoveled it down.
A bomb of pure sugar exploded in Starlight’s mouth. To call what they were eating cake was generous, it was more frosting with a possibility of cake hiding beneath it all. It was almost impossible to will it down her throat, the pure sweetness of it. Steeling her mind, Starlight exhaled through her nose and swallowed.
To her right, Firelight laughed happily. “Well? What do you think?”
Starlight took a moment to reply as she worked her tongue around her mouth.
“Just the same as last year, dad.”
Firelight clapped his hooves together as his grin, impossibly, grew wider.
“Good, good! The icing especially I knew you’d still love! Some things just don’t change.” He took a forkful of his slice, chewing thoughtfully. After a slow swallow, he looked back to Starlight, his eyes sparkling.
“So?”
“…So?”
“So tell me how you’ve been, Star!”
Starlight lapsed into silence. Against her better judgment, she shoveled another bite of cake into her mouth, just so she could keep it occupied and give herself time to think over her answer. The second repulsive blast to her taste buds is enough to shock her brain back from wherever it had drifted off to.
“Mostly reading,” she finally offered.
“My little bookworm! What’ve you been reading?”
“Books. I guess it’s been studying more than anything.”
The happy noise Firelight made forced Starlight to fold her ears flat against her skull, making her wince. She couldn’t stop herself from deflating in her chair.
“Studying! Gosh, studying what, I wonder?” Firelight pushed his plate forward, leaning against the countertop to hold his head up with his forehooves, eyes wide and waiting. Starlight downed another forkful of cake.
“…magic. I’ve been reading up on magic.”
Firelight leaned closer. Starlight leaned further away.
“Putting those awesome skills to work, sweetie? Have you finally decided to-”
“No.”
The curtness of her response forced Firelight back a bit, his eyes blinking rapidly in surprise. His expression shifted into one of gentle disappointment. Frustration bubbled beneath Starlight’s skin.
“But why, sugarplum? You’ve got so much talent and-”
“Because I just don’t want to, dad.”
Firelight sputtered weakly, at a loss for words. Eventually, he put out a hoof and touched it to Starlight’s shoulder, looking into Starlight’s eyes with what was probably the most mature expression she’d seen from him in months.
“I understand branching out might be a little scary, Star, but you’ve got so much potential! You’re a big filly and I think going someplace where you can hone your amazing skills would do you good!”
Starlight roughly shrugged her shoulder, knocking Firelight’s hoof down. She looked at him with a tight, dissatisfied frown.
“I don’t want to be boarded up in some dumb school, dad. I’ve come far enough without whatever you think I can be taught by some dusty sorcerers.”
“It’s not just about you improving, Star! It’s about you showing the world what you’ve got! You’re just letting all that talent sit around! I mean, come on, pumpkin, with a cutiemark like that you should-”
“What’s my cutiemark have to do with any of that? I’ve got some special picture on my butt so now I’ve got to go run off somewhere I don’t want to be?”
“Do you hear what you’re saying, Star? Your cutiemark is everything! It shows that you’ve got a real talent for magic! You should be studying out in Canterlot, not just staying at home and reading through old books-” Firelight stopped himself, briefly, before continuing with a wry grin, “although those books are quite incredible in their own right! It’s just wrong to see my little lady doing nothing with her very special talent…”
“What does it even matter what my ‘talent’ is if I don’t like what it means for me? Just because I have some weird cutiemark doesn’t mean I need to get shipped off to some school far away from the ponies that care about him- me. Magic’s just… something I can do.”
Firelight frowned, scooching his chair closer to Starlight’s. He leaned forward and weakly nuzzled against Starlight, who only tensed up more.
“Please don’t think I’m trying to run you out of the house, Star. It’s just… you’ve got so many big things in your future but you just haven’t taken the steps to get there, yet. There’s nothing to be scared of, kiddo.”
“I’m not ‘scared’ of anything! I just don’t think I’m supposed to be pigeon-holed into some stone future just because my cutiemark apparently says so.”
Starlight dipped her head low and glared daggers into the kitchen floor. Indignation rolled through her whole body, fresh and hot, and her horn sparked weakly atop her head. She continued to hiss,
“It’s not fair. Somepony gets a certain type of cutiemark and suddenly everypony else has their life figured out for them? It’s my life, not my cutiemark’s!”
“It’s your calling, honey-bun,” Firelight said placatingly, “it’s not just about letting your talent go to waste, it’s about being happy! If somepony doesn’t embrace their special talent-”
“Nopony should be forced to choose between going along with whatever life some dumb cutiemark laid out for them or being happy!”
Starlight’s horn flared violent turquoise and pulsed a wave of pure, unrestrained magic into the space between the two of them. Firelight flinched back with such force his chair screeched against the linoleum as it harshly slid backward along with him. His arm jerked across the countertop and knocked his plate to the floor with a loud shatter and weaker splat. Just as quickly as it happened, Starlight’s magic fizzled out and died.
Starlight turned her head away, her eyes closed as she tried to work herself down from the seething fit she found herself in. Beside her, she heard Firelight get up and out of his chair.
“Your presents are under your bed, Starlight. You go on and open them. I’ll… clean this up, okay?”
Starlight didn’t respond. Firelight watched dejectedly as she pushed away from the counter and disappeared down the hallway and into her room. Starlight kicked a clear path through the clutter on her floor and flopped onto her bed. The saddlebag she tossed down earlier was pressed up awkwardly beneath her, but she couldn’t find the will to move it aside. She resolved to simply stare at the afternoon rays as they peeked through the holes in her curtain.
The sky had darkened considerably when the slow knocks against Starlight’s door brought her back to reality. She didn’t move, but let her magic slowly drift out and unlock the door. Almost warily, Firelight stepped inside. Starlight rolled over and stared at him blandly.
“You alright in here, Star?”
“I guess.”
Firelight stood awkwardly in the door frame, unsure of himself. Once the silence became too much he hazarded a step forward, and then another. He gingerly lowered himself down onto Starlight’s bed after she reluctantly wiggled around and made room for him.
“I’m sorry, Star,” Firelight began weakly, “I shouldn’t have said the things I did, earlier.”
“It’s fine.”
“No, no it’s not. If you aren’t ready to step out on your own I shouldn’t try and goad you into it. I overstepped and I’m sorry.”
Starlight sighed and dragged a hoof down her face. She looked to Firelight, scrutinizing him. Finally, she shook her head, leaning up off of the bed to pull him into a weak, one-armed hug.
“It’s alright, dad. I’m not upset.”
Firelight wasted no time in reciprocating, almost crushing the life out of Starlight’s body as he pulled her in close. Starlight wheezed quietly as she patted his back.
“Thank you, sugarplum. I didn’t mean to come at you so hard. I just- I really do want you to see your cutiemark as the gift it is. Life will become so much easier to handle once you embrace it and your, well, youness!”
Her mood now back in the dumpster, Starlight disentangled herself from Firelight’s crushing hug, frowning.
“You think I wouldn’t be able to handle myself?”
“No, no, that’s not at all what I meant, Star. You’re so amazingly mature, but matureness just can’t make up for a lack of,” Firelight rubbed his chin, rolling the words around in his mouth, “harmony with yourself. It may not be what you want to hear, but cutiemarks do play a large part in not just yours, but everypony’s lives.”
“Too large of a part,” Starlight muttered bitterly.
Firelight deflated and sagged into the mattress.
“I’ll always be here for you, dear, but in the end you really will have to see your cutiemark for what it is and try and make your place in life. Cutiemarks are like… compasses. Compasses that help show a pony what best way to lead their lives. Could you imagine a world without them?”
Starlight said nothing.
Defeated, Firelight sighed and gave one last pat to Starlight’s head before rising off the bed.
“We can… talk a little more about this some other time, I suppose. It is getting pretty late.” Firelight stepped back toward the door, only to turn back around, tilting his head every which way and that. He looked back to Starlight with a slightly raised brow.
“And, I see you haven’t touched your presents. I guess that’ll be something we can do in the morning?” Firelight flashed Starlight a wide, hopeful grin and Starlight weakly grimaced in return.
“Yeah. Sure, dad.”
“Good! So I’ll just let you get your nap time in.” Firelight nodded to himself, returned to his happy default, and trotted out of Starlight’s room with his head held high. He was out of view for mere seconds before he peeked back into the frame, sheepish.
“I can’t believe I forgot! Nighty-night, pumpkin.”
“'Night, dad.”
With that, Firelight disappeared again. Starlight rolled back over and stared at her window. Pale, powerful rays of moonlight illuminated her otherwise shadow-enshrouded room.
Could you imagine a world without them?
Mindlessly, Starlight levitated two pieces of caramel off of the floor. She unwrapped them and popped them both into her mouth. She chewed slowly, thoughtfully.
She could. Nopony would ever have to be stuck underneath the hooves of random chance. There’d be no type of cutiemarks that implored somepony to go out and be ‘better’.
Or maybe, there’d just be no cutiemarks at all.
Starlight swallowed the caramel down.
Everypony would simply be as 'good' as they needed to be. Nopony would be forced apart because there’d be nothing that could set them apart from, or above, one another.
Yes, she could imagine a world without them. With almost painful clarity. But a world like that seemed impossible in Equestria as she had come to know it.
Keeping hold of the candy wrappers in her magic, Starlight stretched them taut. They hung there, held within her magical grip. Both were horizontal, with one wrapper floating above the other.
The world Starlight wanted didn’t exist.
Not yet.
