Author's Note

Ah, you've made to chapter three of Fireflower's fanfic that goes beyond the typical oneshots made from before, a Mature fanfic no less on the grounds that a previous chapter has dealt with heavy subject matters proven to be unsuitable for those under eighteen, easily offended, and/or quickly nauseated; suffice to say, this was by far a strong note for many readers complete and therefore you were all given an option to skip ahead to this chapter: whether or not you had taken this offer, it was only up to you to do so nothing more.

As always, My Little Pony, or rather Friendship Is Magic, including its settings and characters belong to Lauren Faust and Hasbro; however, this concept of my fanfic belongs to me so I will say this line one time only: please do not steal this story or I will sue.

Lastly, let me also say that I hope you enjoy this chapter now more than the others and still have the strength to continue onward in staying tuned for future chapters later; henceforth, I will leave you with but one saying only: thank you very much.

Gold

Light is the only way of how the small world worked, let alone the realm that is reality in and of itself; after all, they were both interchangeable to a fault. At the very least, its absolute presence had served to provide a sense of identity for the corporeal dimensions, sensory information needed greatly at once. Now it would seem that just about everything could be found instantaneously irregardless of its very importance, imminent and otherwise so to speak of.

There was a lone metropolis now bathed in an elegant afterglow thanks to the eternal golden sun taking residence above them in the heavens with the cottony clouds traveling about in its wake. In them, the big bright blue skies contained a variety of lifeforms flying across the way over the rhythm emotion of the surface’s hustle and bustle flowing about without even so much as a care. There were towering behemoths ruling and governing their own landscape for though they were all divided, these constructs nevertheless shared the same power wielded over this very placing. Aside from a variety of vehicles running about the asphalt with its sights and sounds contributing to the atmosphere, there were ships of various sizes surfing directly across the dyed deep blue. What had made it stand out the most were the massive flocks of herons and seagulls which could run so far to and fro but couldn’t get away with even the largest of wingspans as they’d cawed. On the other side of the vast and magnificent waters where the many ships had sailed in and out of were a mountainous valley donned in a dark green growing upon the massive beautiful earth. Most importantly, the very denizens themselves were abundantly commonplace coming and going inside the city by any and all means necessary as they pleased in sheer density whatsoever.

Of the areas in question, one place in particular stood out and about: it was a small house in a neighborhood full of them with their own variances in acreage and materials as well as coloring. For starts, the pattern roofing was composed of the same asphalt, this time in tiling colored in a sweetly silver chariot requiem with some wafer–thin crystalline rectangles in the moody blues. Much of its surface area had been already split into two different materials: both the white–hot woodworking and blood–red bricklaying were mostly enough to build this very house altogether. Out of the quadrangular windowpanes discovered in clear viewing, one in particular had been already adorned with a metallic awning, similar to another above the entranceway all the same. Speaking of which, a white door added the finishing touches to the very domicile, gently surrounded by the beauty of the brilliant green lawn, hedges, bushes, and trees within premise.

Anyways, one of the rays from the sun managed to pierce through the looking glass within the frame, illuminating a rather small area of it with some distinctiveness. In that very location thereof, it had instantaneously stopped itself against a singular wall; as a result, its color was sparkling about in an off–white scheme as it were. Within that very small space which had lit up in the process, there had remained an opaque fabric colored in a raid blue reminiscent of a raging ocean spray so to speak.

What little details that had been provided were but a nonissue as there was nothing but snoring in the predominate darkness here: it was bereft of everything but a singular and steady pattern of unchanging notes and resting silence all running roundabout; despite the guttural drone therein, it was calm and peaceful nevertheless, all quiet on the western front for the lack of a better term.

“Lyra, are you awake…?” a tender contralto cut across the golden silence with some gently knocking upon the wooden surface.

At first, there was no reply whatsoever, even as the rapping about had only repeated itself within but mere intervals so to speak of: the silence then reforged anew like it’d never happened at all, unharmed and unscathed as far as the lonely listener was concerned; however, it was only a matter of time until a significant impact could be made, even though the initial impact was small. It wasn’t even long until the softest shuffling about had came about in a slightly reckless abandon, lower and quieted than a careless whisper all the while even with the organic groaning; soon, some quick footfalls were found to be creaking on and about, its surface area underneath them becoming more than where its owner had lain before subsiding into the nothingness again.

Although the void was unhurt, a low and husky voice with resignation had betrayed that notion almost immediately, thanks to a sigh, “I’m so fucked up…!”

At long last, a creak was heard after a metallic click so to speak, inviting a similar light source from beyond the very darkness: out had came a brightly skinned woman with eyes of goldenrod and some short spiky minted tresses with but white midpoint; her attire had consisted only of a blue shirt and skirt combo as well as some white socks now touching the floor beneath them all.

It didn’t take long for the observant inhabitant to pay attention to the world she was currently inside of, already bereft of the blackness compared to her place of origin altogether as it all were. The background serving as the general foundation thereof was surrounded in a shade and hue lighter than the bright skinned woman’s hair combined, more spacious by the sheer comparison. Underneath her feet was a series of dark blue carpeting which had spread far beyond what she could ever see so to speak of, having much of it all backed into a corner but otherwise restricted. The bright skinned woman could see as many as five doors in front, all of which were painted in brown; of them, almost all were adjacent, especially considering the furthest was near a window. Emanating from the glass pane in question were but the largest rays of golden light currently piercing throughout in full force compared to the one in the very room from before so to speak. Speaking of something fragile, she’d become wary of the reflection cast abaft her body, symmetrical to a fault but more clouded compared to the eyesight on the waking world at large. Above the bright skinned woman was a piece of string hanging from the ceiling within the very same hallway, pointing her to the rectangular outline etched about as it’d blended in all too well.

In any case, she was walking about past a picture before stopping at a door on her right already; afterwards, her hand had knocked upon its wood.

“Lyra, is that you awake already…?” was all that the eponymous listener had heard, already to the same voice from before no less, “I’ll be out of the bathroom soon enough; just give me few seconds…”

“What are you doing in here, Bon–Bon…?” the bright skinned woman had asked the aforementioned inhabitant almost instantaneously.

It wasn’t long until Lyra had heard some fluid gurgling about before it was being swallowed up tightly in a matter of seconds; soon, there was splishing and splashing about nearby until a small whine had snuffed the rushing downpour out so to speak of: to her, it was nothing more than a simple signal for her that the user on the inside was about to leave the place immediately no less.

Needless to say, the two women were finally face–to–face as soon as the door was opened, presenting themselves with the same similar traits alongside with some certain differences too. Like Lyra, Bon–Bon wore her hair with two clashing colors vying for absolute dominance; however, the latter’s style was long and coiled, bearing both dark blue moon and light hot pink. The user’s very eyes were tender for they were colored in a true blue scheme within the rightly balanced temperatures, crystal clear like the outside world beyond which of the minty tenant. Bon–Bon’s integuments were colored brightly like that of Lyra standing afore, beige yet lightly tanned as if the former had embraced the light and warmth of the whole wide world altogether. The beige user’s attire was just nothing short of only being rather simplistic to a fault currently: a royal purple blouse, a jet–black skirt, and some snow–white shoes served as a variance therein.

Out of the twosome in question, Bon–Bon was mindful enough to answer at last nevertheless, “using it; anyways, I’d stopped by your room minutes ago to check in on you earlier ago: are you okay, Lyra…?”

“Yeah, sure: I must have been real tired last night anyway; I hope you’d gotten a goodnight’s rest as well like Star Dreams did…” the minty woman yawned about, catching it in her right hand as she’d turned away before facing the beige counterpart once again, “I’m actually real sorry about last night by the way: I didn’t mean to scare you…”

“Don’t worry about it at all, Lyra: I’m just glad that you’re safe and sound though; you mean the world to me and I don’t think I could take it if–––” Bon–Bon had struggled to speak before the titular tenant wrapped both arms around the former without anyway, caught off–guard in the process.

In turn, the minty woman spoke back at her beige correspondent with more hesitation instead, “just stop it: as far as I remembered, I wasn’t the only one who was singled out by changelings because of what had happened; if anything, what happened to us is not our fault and you know it…!”

“I know that; I’m just a little worried about you, that’s all: you’ve just been sleeping during the day more frequently than ever…” Bon–Bon sniffled about, breaking the icy surface tension between herself and Lyra as the former was the first to shed a teardrop, “if it’s any consolation, Star Dreams has been trying to help you recently as well; after all, your friends in Canterlot are. In any case, I also remember that Twilight’s still reeling about the wedding years ago and how you, Minuette, and Twinkleshine were all captured and brainwashed by changelings in the interim; even now, I still worry about what her family’s going through since they’d watched Princess Cadance get burned alive, especially since she was this close to becoming true royalty. It’s not enough that we’d came close to losing everything before then, we’d to face an enemy that was living among us too; I still have nightmares about what they did to us all in the past and even talking about it already has been a hot–button issue: one thing that bothers me is how did they even managed to sneak in undetected, but I guess it’s better to not think about it at all now. If there’s anything I can do for you, then just say the word and I’ll do it; it’s the least I should worry about until my dying breath, especially since we’d gotten this far together in life: please, let me help you as I’d done before in Ponyville…”

“Just let me have the bathroom this time; I just need to take a shower here: at the very least, I might as well use this opportunity to think things more clearly before I head back out again…” the minty woman responded, breaking away from the hug she’d recently initiated as her feet took off to the area abaft of her beige counterpart anyway.

Lyra now had the bathroom all to herself now, leaving Bon–Bon right out of the picture for the time being as the former took note of how narrow it was. To contrast against the cold color scheme from before, the area was hot pink predominately, save for some repetitive wallpaper cordoned off the tiles near. Up in front from where the minty tenant had stood upon the hard surface underneath were its accommodations: a closet, sink, mirror, bathtub, and toilet. Etched outwardly from the left side of the hanging fixture were a quartet of lightbulbs showing the way throughout but otherwise cordoned off no less.

Walking up to the larger fixture on her right, she’d soon taken her precious time studying what was out on display: a nozzle already guided straight overhead hung in from the walls with one mixer tap and its three handles resting beneath it all. Calmly, Lyra had started to place her hand onto the handle at the leftmost before arranging the others as well; before long, a heightened pitch whine was followed by a deluge of water now splashing directly in the porcelain surface area below. Hot moisture had traveled around to meet the minty tenant’s nostrils from top to bottom, its vapors wafting straight into them as her cheekbones had soon burned brightly enough to be seen upon the visage like the longest cleared daytime sky. In a matter of seconds, a fog was developing around herself due to the small area of effect it was currently inside, prompting her to lock the door she’d walked into earlier before going off to open another with the very same room all the while. Finding nothing but fabrics of the same materials, Lyra pulled out a blue towel and washcloth from there, throwing them both over the steely railing only but a feet away from the still arching deluge nearby with careful consideration no less.

As seconds had passed by, there wasn’t much else the minty tenant could do but cast aside her clothes from where her feet had stood: both the blue shirt and skirt were the first to go, quickly baring both her bosoms to the inner universe as is. In any case, all that had remained were her striped knickers and socks, something she’d wasted no time removing until there was nothing left to claim upon her own flesh; at long last, she was in the altogether, briskly reacting to the open air.

Lyra stepped inside rather slowly and carefully at once, quickly taking the time to close up the violet curtains along as well so as to shut out what little cold air had remained before it’d even got the slightest chance of following right at her. It wasn’t long until the minty tenant had discovered the heated compound now instantaneously embracing her dry integuments immediately as the frigid oxygen thereof had been transmutated by the conflicting liquidly temperatures already. Although she was becoming at ease by the water clothing her body, the fact she was in the way was more than enough to burn her moreso; after all, her feet were firmly planted upon the moist surface underneath thanks to how it was running.

If the reality of Lyra’s solitude didn’t put her at rest, then the current location thereof cemented it instantaneously: although the compound itself was lacking in variation, the heat and pressure alone were more than enough for herself; after all, she was sighing at the reality of having the whole place to herself, free from the outside world as she knew. As far as the minty tenant could tell right now, she was more than relieved irregardless since that what had happened prior was a burning memory left in the past like the yesteryears of youth and yearning she, the beige correspondent, and their compeers had experienced one second too many to remember each and every single detail therein so to speak of. Nevertheless, she had nothing more than the flowing fluids themselves to keep herself hot and heavy, especially seeing that her face was inches from the stream nearby; its simplistic qualities in and of themselves, if at all, were more welcoming than the darkness she’d recently emerged from alone, including the fog thereof still taking formation here.

Anyways, Lyra had found a small orange bar within in an embedded space on her left, removing it to wrap around the washcloth now. Within mere seconds alone, the minty tenant had started lathering her body from top to bottom with the item in question all the same. Now taking careful aim at the face, she’d wiped away the stains from those yesterdays before bristling around her neck mindfully. It didn’t take long for the foam to start laying claim onto Lyra’s integuments, spreading downwardly throughout in an instant. Nowhere around the minty tenant’s body was even given a second’s reprieve from the soapy onslaught since they’d also slid abaft. Generally speaking, all the suds and bubbles were found to be quickly slathered about around both her bust and abdomen at once. Soon, Lyra bent over and began washing her shins from the kneecaps to forefeet before standing back up to rinse it off immediately.

Already the minty tenant’s tresses were now being directly supersaturated gently by the same water from before, soaking it all in completely. Nearby the showerhead above herself was a small slate bottle resting freely; after putting the washcloth and soap away, she’d now opened it. No time was wasted in its contents being used onto Lyra as the azure solution alone was now etched into a fraction as it’d tinted her own hair. Almost instantaneously, every strand was being cleansed away before another round was made, no doubt the work of the minty tenant herself. Before long, her hair was being lathered up with increased fruition before being washed away; afterwards, she’d switched bottled without fear. Even though it was the same shape as the first, its contents and concentration were more colorful despite being rubbed into Lyra’s tresses no less. Likewise, its solution had followed the same fate as the previous one, all because of the minty tenant’s repetitive interfacing nonetheless here.

Afterwards, another area about herself had gained attention as she’d found the time to lathering her washcloth again with the very same soap. Covering it up, Lyra quickly padded over and started rubbing around slowly, feeling its slowly tightening reaction already chaffing runabout. A suppressed moan had escaped from the minty tenant, even as she’d begun to nudge throughout thanks to the contrasting textures altogether. In no time whatsoever, they’d been increasing in quantity and volume as well, especially now she’d spread both legs apart and moved slow. Still, the washcloth scoured in between Lyra’s soft, tight velvet underground, causing her to let out a high–pitched mewl in the process as is. A jolt had traveled up the minty tenant’s spine as she’d quivered about, stroking up and down the very same place afore wedging itself back in. With such contents gathering around, she’d squealed about as some droplets of crimson splashed in the otherwise achromatic compound here.

As the nerves and stamina inside of Lyra’s whole body finally regained control almost instantly, she quickly found the resolve to flush it all beneath the running water, red and white, but no blue. The minty tenant had rinsed her washcloth again as well on both sides, cleansing it all of the foam and her flow completely all before creating another layer of white once more with feeling. Upon applying said soap onto the area betwixt her legs with dispassionate dissonance delicately, the solution was doused with the fluid once again, leaving her with time to wash her hands clean. Eventually, Lyra turned the knobs back to where they were before, shutting the water off so as to stop her skin from being further saturated altogether as she’d still dripped on and about already. The minty tenant had opened the curtains back up and stepped out the bathtub, her feet landing right back onto the tiled flooring as she was wet with indifference and anticipation all the while. Since she was still moist from top to bottom, it was more than enough for her to remember the matching towel hanging around, taking the time to dry herself off and clothe most of her skin.

As soon as Lyra had reopened the same door, she’d met Bon–Bon once more, the latter asking, “is everything okay now…?”

“Mm–hmm…” the minty tenant had squeaked, freely nodding about all absentmindedly so to speak of no less, “I feel better now…”

“I’d taken the liberty of setting some clothes on your bed after making it for you in the meantime; I hope you’d like it all the same since we’ll have the hamper empty later on soon…” the beige counterpart had said to Lyra instantaneously, clearing a path for the latter whom was now returning to the place of origin all the same.

It didn’t take long for the minty tenant to see it all bathed in more light than when she’d been in, all thanks to a ceiling fan with a bulb in its dome. The white partitions currently holding up the general composition were more spacious compared to the bathroom she was recently inside of there. The flooring itself was already basked in a tufted and orientated carpeting, a sea of slate studded with faint blues and hot pinks already absorbent. A set of butterbean curtains were found to be covering up the windowsills and gateways to the outside world beyond the time and space, all still. An enormous bed had rested nearby the frame, all donned with a flowery comforter alongside an indigo sheet and pillowcase combo betwixt doors. A long dresser stood adjacently from the other, boxy brown as hardwood as a solid jet–black electronic was cornered away by a circular clock.

Lyra had turned her attention towards a set of fresh new clothes already laid out halfway from the pillows: an amber blouse, sapphire skirt, and pink undergarments. First, the minty tenant had begun putting the brassiere and knickers over her cleavage and legs respectively after drying herself off completely with much intensity. Even though that she was no longer in a towel or the altogether, the rest of her skin was enough to remind her of the cold air from before, moreso than in the shower. In any case, Lyra had still wasted no time whatsoever in covering herself even further, especially considering how modest they were, compared to her previous attire.

Soon, the minty tenant started to walk over towards the smaller appliance and began to press one of the buttons on the side as it’d spoken up, “it has now been three years since the infamous Peachtree Shooting Deaths up in Rosewater Beach; as of yet, the perpetrator, Drayer Beamer, is still serving a life sentence in HMS Prison Down Haigh after being transferred. Drayer, as many could recall, had plead guilty to all three counts of murder by admission and was sentenced to death after being tried as an adult; however, citing extreme prosecutorial misconduct, improper procedures, and a poor roles execution, his trial was treated as a gross overreach of jurisprudence in the eyes of the Crown. In spite of being offered a full pardon, he’s made it an effort to reside in this prison indefinitely so to speak; this comes after having a petition sent by people all over Equestria, especially its eastern seaboard, courtesy of an anonymous author: given the witness testimonials by his neighbors, his sentence, as well as that of his two accomplices, was met with shock and outrage. Out of many figures aware of all this, Princess Luna was one of the key figures in the aforementioned petition, expressing her contempt at the turn of events resulting in the demises of the three Meloni sisters, going so far as suggesting that Peachtree Acre is nothing more but the rotten pits of suburban living masquerading as an idyllic escape from the excesses of city living. Taken to a similar note, her sister, Princess Celestia, has decided that, rather than being sanctioned on par with Hilltop and Cirrus, that all of New Ponyland will be barred from competing in the upcoming yet delayed Equestria Games until notice, citing lack of harmony and hospitality in one area alone would mean other instances would’ve been easily revealed. At the very least, this decision was met with reluctant approval from both Parliament and the E.E.A., the latter currently under its management by Chancellor Neighsay; additionally, he’s said to have felt nothing but disgust and disbelief all the while, seeing how the schools have stood by and allowed these troubles to bubble up on and off campus. Still, Drayer remains behind bars as of this day and, according to the administrators, has continued to demonstrate model behavior; with that said, he and his family have not been reached for comment nor have his friends or neighbors still currently living in Peachtree as of yet–––”

“Princesses and Parliament, if only if they were much stronger than they were; maybe perhaps she would’ve been still alive…” she’d sighed sadly after shutting off the soliloquy all so suddenly, turning around to face the bed before collapsing all facedown, “I’m so sorry for all this; I’m so sorry for letting you down most of all, Tornado Bolt: I wish your family’s alive…”

It was now Lyra’s turn to cry softly but surely, not for help or attention; as such, the door was still open wide but nobody came.