Please don't ever take the pain away
Author's Note
As of July 14th of '23, this is the first story that got featured from my library.
Thank you. This means the world to me.
I was unsure if I told what I wanted to say the best I could. It feels incomplete still to me.
Please give feedback. Thank you for your time. 
Please don't ever take the pain away
Twilight Sparkle had a problem.
As she trotted through the front double doors to retreat from the din outside, she had run out of words to describe the physical, emotional, and mental fatigue that had accumulated over the past few months. Trotting the empty crystalline halls of her castle, she found herself alone in her schedule for the first time she can remember. Spike was out with the Crusaders, Starlight was out with Trixie heading towards Yakyakistan for a mission, and her friends all have their own day-to-day lives to live through. That only leaves Twilight to be here all alone, in the castle of friendship.
Twilight would’ve welcomed the isolation with open hooves if it weren’t for weren’t the reality that she was miserable with herself.
She wasn’t certain when this started happening, only that it lasted far longer than usual. On paper, everything seemed fine. She had her coveted day off finally align perfectly with everypony else’s schedules so she wouldn’t be disturbed. She would have her favorite pre-picked Novellas, Poems, and Epics selected prior to this day to avoid wasting time on selecting; She would have her favorite daisy and daffodil sandwich waiting for her on a silver platter upstairs in her bedroom with a cup of coffee to accentuate it.
Indeed, everything seemed perfect to Twilight Sparkle. Everything she wanted is accounted for, and there are no loose ends left to tie.
Maybe that was the problem.
Twilight didn’t know.
She only knew that she felt drained. In every sense of the word.
The growling in her stomach also reminded her that she skipped breakfast. The echoes of her hollow footsteps reverberated against the halls of her castle as she trots back towards the map room. There, she pushed open the tall double doors with her magic and felt the groans of the hinges vibrate her hooves on the floor.
She paused.
She took in the sight of an empty room for about a minute, thinking about what had happened so far to lead to this moment.
Am I overthinking this? She thought to herself.
Twilight’s mind ventured into memory lane as she relived the events of the past few months. The depressive lull she had been a victim of.
Twilight was no stranger to her mental debilitations. She knew what this was, and normally she would tackle the problem like how she would with any other problem; She would learn from it, understand the why of it, and figure out how to prevent it. It was this scientific method of understanding that allowed her to flourish in this world for as long as she had.
But Twilight knew that this one was different.
This wasn’t the same episode she had experienced before, this was something… more.
More what, though? What is it?
Twilight couldn’t figure the answer out for herself. And that had always perturbed her when a mystery or problem seemingly had no solution to it. Her logical brain couldn’t accept that. Everything happened for a reason, and everything has to happen for a reason. It can’t just be without a reason to be.
She tried what usually would work. She tried talking it out with her friends, she tried going on little adventures with them to take her mind off of it. She tried distracting herself with work from her little pet projects that Spike would aid in. She tried to study it through anatomical and analytical texts and to measure what was going on.
She tried everything. And it failed. The problem persists.
I need to fix this. I can’t live like this any longer. She thought with determination.
Eventually, it reached a boiling point in the days prior to this moment. Where she found herself unable to leave her bed most days. She would lay there for hours, wallowing in her sheets and angst. For hours, she tried to escape. But they were too soft. Too warm. Too comfortable.
She wasn’t sure why or when she got up eventually, but she remembered going over to the windows and unfurling the curtains. There she was greeted to a gray, overcast sky that turned darker by the minute. It threatened to rain down upon the land below.
And Twilight smiled.
What a wonderful world.
The day progressed, and she found herself almost comatose. A permanent jet-lag dragged her psyche back a few paces, enough for her to second guess every minute decision she did that day.
When Starlight and Spike eventually noticed something was wrong with Twilight, they didn’t believe her initial answer to their question of what was wrong with her: “Oh, I am just extra sleepy for today.” After an impromptu intervention from the two, Twilight finally relents that she feels… wrong. That she wasn’t the usual, dorky, and cheerful self that she wanted to be.
Then Starlight asked the question.
“How do you feel?”
And Twilight couldn’t answer.
Not because she didn’t want to, she definitely wanted to voice her opinions on the matter. Moreso she couldn’t.
It’s as if her consciousness had suddenly forgotten how to be happy.
Spike and Starlight tried. Oh, how they tried. They tried taking her to the annual Friendship Games, to the ponyville marketplace, to several different quiet thinking spots that Starlight showed her personally. Yet none of these efforts bore fruit. Twilight found herself right back where she started.
At this point, Twilight’s sleeping health was deteriorating, and her mental state only declined further. She found herself unable to leave the castle on some days. And on the days she does, she hardly speaks. Her friends tried to cheer her up as well, but they were just about as successful as Starlight and Spike were prior.
One night, she found herself staring into the night sky from her balcony. Stargazing, she was busy spotting Luna’s beautiful constellations embedded into her canvas that is the starry night. She found herself smiling for a short time. She found herself happy for a short time.
And like a whiplash from a storm, the lull came back in force. Like a freight train slamming her psyche. Tears pooled up in her eyes.
Gazing her eyes downward instinctively, she suddenly spots smoke. Gently rising from the center of the Everfree Forest, the smoke of a fireplace could be seen gently billowing upward.
And it clicked. She leaped from her balcony with vigor and unfurled her wings to glide. For the first time in weeks, she could think with clarity as she acknowledged what to do.
Twilight Sparkle had a problem. But she knew just who to ask on how to fix it.
Twilight sat uncomfortably on a stool, her hooves gingerly holding a small tea-cup that smelled of Lemon and Mud. The still-solid herbs placed in the impromptu tea-bag pervaded an earthly aroma inside Zecora’s Shack.
She sat and watched the brown liquid inside her cup steaming, still much too hot to consume after leaving the Cauldron. The latter of which was slowly being churned by Zebra-striped hooves from a spoon.
“Thank you for letting me in so late at night Zecora. I’m sorry for barging in like this.”
Zecora tut-tuts to herself as she focuses on spooning the liquid into her own cup deftly with two hooves.
“My door may not be open at night, but for you, Twilight Sparkle, it is quite alright.”
“I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything important.”
“Nothing important to me. But for you, we shall see.”
Zecora lets the cauldron bubble on its own, establishing an ambiance to the otherwise still soundscape. She sat down beside Twilight on the floor, cupping it the same way Twilight was with her two hooves. She blows on the beverage gently to help cool it down.
“So, what is this tea exactly?” Twilight asked the important question out loud.
“This beverage is a special blend, prepared especially to help you mend. For it is only here, amidst the everfree; hidden in the shade of an ancient tree; this tree hides a special herb, whose esoteric properties are absurd; it is a special, edible spore, of which your psyche will crave more.
“Everfree Psilocybe Semilanceata.”
Twilight ran the medicinal-sounding words through the inner encyclopedia in her mind. Twilight knew they were mushrooms of a magically medicinal nature. She knew that they were very potent, and that cautionary low doses were required. And she knew that these things were not to be underestimated.
But as to what they did? What they were supposed to do? Twilight didn’t have a clue. She could only assume and make educated guesses.
“So,” Twilight slowly began, “I just drink this tea with the herbs inside, and it just… heals me?” She sounded unsure because it was too good to be true. Even the best Unicorn Doctors out there in Equestria can do nothing for the troubles of the mind. One of the greatest medical roadblocks in history that Equestria had failed to conquer had always been the field of mental health.
And this simple, seemingly effortless concoction would somehow be the remedy for everything? She had a hard time believing it.
Zecora, however, nods with a faint smile, barely seen on her features in the shadows of the flickering candles and the cauldron fireplace.
“I recommend you stay at home, in a place you are comfortable and alone.”
So in the castle then.
“You should also let it be known, that you wish to be alone. At least only for tomorrow, lest you wish to drown in sorrow.”
Zecora’s words repeated in Twilight’s brain over and over. Drown in Sorrow.
Her brows furrowed intensely as Twilight cast a small cooling spell on the beverage and proceeded to chug every last drop. She forced the gag reflex back down her throat when the solid chunks of mushroom invaded her throat, swallowing all the way down until there was nothing left.
Twilight groans hoarsely, reaching for a glass of water on standby. Zecora smiled as Twilight set the cup down with an audible clink.
“Will I go crazy?” Twilight asks. she can’t remember why she asked this question.
“I assure you that it is very real; for where you are going, you will not need skin to feel.”
Twilight left Zecora’s Shack about 15 minutes ago, deciding to trot back home after making it out of the Everfree. She found herself busy staring upward at the night’s canvas, spotting Luna’s constellations once more as she tried to distract herself from what was about to happen.
Twilight didn’t know what to expect other than something really intense. She hoped it wouldn’t be dangerous or anything. The last thing Equestria needs is for their Princess of Friendship to become comatose from a drug-induced sleep. But Zecora gave her word; It wasn’t supposed to be dangerous, but that can change depending on your mental state. She stated explicitly how important it was to remain calm and to go with the flow, not fight and resist.
Taking a few deep breaths, she starts to feel her heart beat a little faster than usual. Since she left the Everfree, her body was acting strange. She could feel these… Twinges.
Not quite Twitches, as you would expect, but something on the precipice of it. Something creeping at the very edge of a threshold, only for it to recede as it gets close. A hinge of a twitch, thus; twinges.
It had persisted since she cleared the treeline, and it got more intense as she trotted closer and closer to the Castle of Friendship, towering over the rest of the Ponyville skyline like an eyesore. When she made it to the door, she almost knocked for some reason despite this being her Castle. Pushing the heavy doors open with a loud groan, Twilight felt the cool air surround her and drive the humid, oppressive heat from outside back to where it came. In an instant, Twilight felt relieved. It was about the only good thing she felt right now, to be honest.
Since Twilight started walking back, her senses had this overwhelming premonition that something was off. That something within her was not normal.
It was obvious what that something was, but she still couldn’t shake the feeling that this was something she should brace for instead of taking it lightheartedly.
Closing the front doors behind her, she quietly trots her way upstairs to carefully not wake anypony else. Walking past the kitchen and the map room, and proceeding upward on a crystalline staircase leading towards her bedroom, she found it disheveled and chaotic.
Discord would be proud of the state of disregard it was in.
Taking the time to reorganize the room, and make the bed, it took far longer than normal to get it done. Throughout the time, her joints started to feel weak. Lethargic even, as if they had just run a marathon and they couldn’t stand anymore. Twilight started to feel nervous about all of this suddenly.
She stops herself when she finishes the bed, feeling herself on the verge of hyperventilation suddenly.
What’s happening? Why do I feel so… paranoid?
She closes her eyes and slowly inhales through her nostrils, her hoof planted against her heart as she tried to force her muscles to stop quaking. Practicing Cadance’s breathing trick a few times, the muscles and heart started to calm down. At least they weren’t shaking violently.
I need to sit down.
As Twilight tried to move forward, she promptly opens her eyes just in time to see the floor speeding towards her.
Plat!
Her nostril painfully scrunches up as she faceplants onto the hard floor below. Apparently, her muscles forgot to work.
Crawling towards the bed now, Twilight had to struggle to maintain basic motor functionality. Her muscles were aching at supporting all of her body weight to climb atop the silky bedsheets, but she eventually succeeded with a loud groan.
The noise of her struggle suddenly make her acutely aware of how loud she was being at so late in the night. And yet, focusing her magic to do certain tasks was somehow much more… trickier. She knew what to do, she knew where to do it, and she knew how to do it. But she couldn’t figure out the context of where she was in comparison to what she was trying to do.
Her mind was doing unnecessary backflips atop of itself, struggling to come up with even the most basic logic and visual calculus to focus her horn on doing… something…
What was I trying to do again?
… Right, soundproof spell, that was it.
Finally having a focal point to fixate on, her horn glowed a lavender hue as her field of magic enveloped the room around her. As she finished the spell, it dissipated unceremoniously into thin air. But it was done. Her room was soundproof. Now her friends won’t have to worry about mistaking all of the commotion for something terrible happening…
… Was something terrible about to happen?
As the thought entered her mind, she found herself heavy in the limbs. Only able to move them with strenuous effort. She was laying on her backside, wings unfolded in an uncomfortable position. She was staring at the ceiling.
She wasn’t sure why, but this felt necessary somehow. To be not moving, and to be laying still. A quiet, self-evident truth that she wasn’t sure where she deduced from.
Then she felt it.
It was sudden and intense. Like a valve turning, over and over, applying pressure to the threshold of her madness just beneath the surface of her troubled psyche. She could feel it building, up and up, to something inexplicable.
And like a cork flying off, she felt it.
The Wave.
It crashed over her like the ocean’s tides. It drowned her senses into a warm, forgotten emotion. Something so pure, something so fine, that it was briefly forgotten to have ever existed. Until now. Not just happiness. Not just love. These words were not synonyms for this sensation. It couldn’t be, for nothing else in life compared to this.
Joy.
Euphoria.
Bliss.
It coursed her being, and it warmed her soul. Her mouth muscles were twitching involuntarily, widening into a giddy grin. Twilight realizes that she can’t stop smiling. It is simply too much for her to stop smiling.
It was a perfect sensation of happiness and excitement. She wishes it could last forever.
And suddenly, she is scared. Then ice, then an unwelcome chill, coinciding apprehensive comprehension.
She realizes that she can never live this again. That this is the last time she will experience this feeling.
And it hurts.
To Twilight, it hurts more deeply than any wound inflicted in the past, physical or otherwise. It had gone now, and she could never get it back.
Never ever.
Tears welled up in her eyes as she found herself in sorrow once more. Through the blurry tears, she could see the walls and ceilings gently morph in and out of shape, bending, squeezing, stretching. She thinks she is losing her mind.
It hurts.
The warmth is now gone, replaced with shivers and dread. She feels like she is falling endlessly, as the ceiling is morphing beyond recognition. The Moon had moved from the window in her bedroom, its luminosity too faint to properly illuminate her surroundings.
An inordinate amount of time passes, and she feels stuck. Unable to move from her descent. She could feel herself falling.
Fall. Fall. Fall.
Nothing but a descent, with only more space to go down into. It feels infinite. It feels unnatural. It feels impossible.
Tears stain the bedsheets now, and her cheeks are as damp as her eyes.
It hurts.
Her mind can’t rationalize this pain. It can’t fathom the why of it. It can’t contemplate how to escape. It is unable to. It is trapped beneath the weight of her tragically, beautifully flawed psyche.
It hurts so bad.
Darkness surrounds her vision, like a suffocating vignette of a camera lens. Except it feels cold and very, very real.
I know it hurts.
Was that her speaking to herself? Can she even do that? Or was someone in the room with her?
I know it hurts.
She cannot tell. It is impossible to deduce when it feels like you are going mad. But she can listen to it at least.
I know it hurts.
Twilight could do nothing but lay, her eyes glued upward but seeing nothing. As if she is going blind.
She closed her eyes. instead of trying to ponder what she can’t see, she will ponder what she can see.And through her eyelids, she could see nothing but a primordial blackness. She quakes, and she feels herself a child again. A filly, gently held, in infinite arms of infinite tenderness, stroking, stroking.
The world pulsed, melted. She pulsed, melted.
World, I; world, world, melted, I.
These words fall away like a cocoon to a butterfly.
Celestial, purple, erotic, psychotic, rolling, roiling, empathy, ecstasy. Now. Now. Now.
It hurts.
Shuddering; I can feel it Quake.
Howl.
Wordless howl, I feel my body arch my mouth gape, fill the world with pain and anguish, and falling forever into black and nothing and nothing; even as celestial purple blue, brilliant white light, even as melting, I feel; gape, howl, soundless void of…
It hurts.
I know, I know, I whimper.
I know, I understand.
But it hurts.
I know, I understand.
But it hurts.
I know, I understand.
But it hurts.
Warmth. Tears. Salty. Soft. Only basic information is being received. Everything else washed away. In a Tsunami.
Quake, shatter, blossom, melt.
It hurts.
It hurts.
It hurts.
Please don’t ever take the pain away.
Please don’t ever take the pain away.
Please don’t ever take the pain away.
I know, I understand, but it hurts.
Please don’t ever take the pain away.
Waves roil over me, in me, would never take the pain away, could never take the pain away, the agony is ecstasy, without grief love is not, without the soundless void my mouth agape and grimacing there is no bliss, this is bliss, could no more take the pain away than take stillness from dance, or silence from music.
It’s okay. Everything is Okay.
Thank you.
I love you.
Lost, found, like a wave in the ocean. Dissolved, beautifully, blissfully, agonizingly.
I never realized. How many different kinds of love there are, and how they all pulse forth expressed as one. How life feels them all for itself, over and over, forever blossoming, forever falling, forever joyful and grieving.
I love you. I love you.
Saying the words as a child to its mother as a mother to her children as a lover to her lover, friend to friend, I love you.
I love you I murmur, feeling the force of the words the meaning of them, every kaleidoscopic syllable and tone of love.
I love you, I love you, I love you.
Saying it as the world to myself as myself to the world; begging for forgiveness and comforting with infinite love; a lover in passion a throwaway comment to a friend a parting kiss a greeting touch.
I love you.
I love you.
It’s OK.
Thank you.
Time passes. It is still night. Exhaustion.
Who knows how long that lasted? An infinity, eternity, outside time, outside self? The concepts had ceased to hold meaning.
She could only remember weeping emeralds.
Twilight awoke to the sound of chirping birds.
She lifts an eyelid open with great effort, groaning as she slowly sat up from her stiff sleeping position. She could see sunlight filtering through the windows and illuminating her room. She felt a little sore in some spots, and her bed was messy. Her mane and tail were frizzy and matted, and she smelled of old sweat.
Mentally, however, she felt… still. There was no immediate thought rushing to the center of her frontal cortex, and there was no reason to think. It was like looking at a pond, with hardly any ripple disrupting the flat plane of stillness to be found. No pondering itineraries. No remembrance of current events.
Remember.
Her mind travels back to last night, trying to find a recollection of what she experienced. Frustratingly, she was coming up with blanks. Everything she tried to focus on from last night yielded a bright canvas of inexplicable sensations that she didn’t know where to begin unraveling from.
But there was one phrase she remembered. Like a moment frozen in time, she can remember with perfect clarity.
‘Please don’t ever take the pain away.’
A shadow of a smile creeps to her lips. She stretches her muscles and wings, and several joints snap and pop back into place -- drawing a satisfied sigh from her lips.
Headache from dehydration, and she had not slept properly. No worries, those will all resolve themselves.
She knows she needs to shower, but that can wait. Her mind is peculiarly preoccupied.
She unfurls the curtains a little more to let the sun brighten everything. Warmth is pressed against her skin from the sun. Her eyes take a moment to adjust to the brightness. There she could see the rolling plains of Central Equestria, surrounded by soft-crested hills and beautiful meadows, with only a few sharp mountain peaks to look at in the far distance. Canterlot could be seen hanging from the face of one of these mighty mountains, the hanging city still just as opulent as she remembered. It was bright. It was sunny. It was warm.
Twilight smiles; not the smiles she put on as a mask to hide her indifference, no, this was genuine. This felt real. For the first time in weeks, Twilight felt… happy.
What a wonderful world.
