Always Leaving

by TheRedFox

Rating: everyone
Tags: Tank, Sad, Philomena, Twilight Sparkle, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 2498

For the first time in several hundred years, Tank the turtle finds himself in the company of a very old friend.

Everyone always asked Tank where he was going.

He never knew how to answer them. How could one say that when time eroded everything else away, there became less and less meaning in a purpose.

All he knew is that the time passed him by, the more he always seemed to be leaving.

That's when Philomena showed up.

Written for the third Quills and Sofas Expanding Universe contest. A sequel to Novelle Tale's Growing Together .

Art by Shaslan!

Published 2024-04-29 22:20:00 UTC
Last updated 2024-04-29 22:20:00 UTC

Always Leaving

His eyes fluttered open, like the shutters of an ancient camera as he took in the fading rays of the waning twilight. “It really is beautiful.”

“It really is.”

Slowly, he turned his head to the left. Twilight stood tall and grand and stiff and regal, staring out into the distance. Wheat stalks danced in the wind, surging out into an ocean of tan and brown around them. “For every hundred sunsets I see… There’s always one that seems to stick out,” she said. “For every dozen decades that pass… There are days and nights where something sticks out. A sort of deep sadness. A longing.”

“I know.”

“They always seem to pass, but I’m left wondering how long until they return.” Twilight blinked slowly and turned to face him. “Are you certain you wish to do this?”

Tank raised his head and let the evening sun wash over him. “I am. It’s a wonderful evening. I’d like to enjoy it.”

Twilight laughed softly, tinkling like Hearth’s Warming bells and falling gently like winter snowflakes. “Very well. If you need anything, I’ll be nearby.”

“Of course.”

The two shared a brief embrace, before Twilight took a step back and vanished in a flash of purple magic. Tank took a deep, lumbering breath, gazing up at the horizon. The mountain that housed Canterlot towered up in the distance, rising like a beacon of stone stretching to the sky.

There was nothing else but wheat for miles around.

Tank began to walk, and the wheat seemed to part like water as he moved through them. Tank let his body move of its own accord, unwavering from the direction he started in. Wheat brushed against his side and his shell. The wind split itself against his face, the rays of the sun fell upon his skin.

Time had lost meaning to him long ago. Faces had come and gone, and names tumbled out around him like rain. He had stopped counting the years long ago.

How many years had it been since Rainbow Dash had passed?

Tank didn’t know. But he could still feel her presence deep within him, and at times around him. Flashes in the ponies or in the world around him. He heard her in the laugh Longshot let loose when he beat the speed record Rainbow herself set eons ago. He saw it in Jasper Song’s eyes when she rallied Cloudsdale to turn back the hurricane of the century. He felt it when Holstein and Flotsam embraced at the end of the harvest season for the last time.

Each step could have taken a second or a year, it mattered not to Tank.

Eventually, there was a change in the scenery: a hazy dot on the horizon. He considered pausing, but figured that it’d catch him in the end no matter what, so he maintained his ever steady pace.

Sure enough, the dot grew larger and larger until it took the shape of an orange blur, diving at him. At the last second it pulled up and flared out its wings, coming to a halt right above him. “Sup, stinky?”

Tank let out a deep, gurgling laugh. “Hello, Philomena. I was wondering when you’d come.”

The phoenix cawed in either displeasure or bemusement. “As if I’m that predictable.”

“Well, I didn’t say that.”

“Good!”

The phoenix circled around and landed on Tank’s shell. He barely felt the added weight, and it did little to slow his motion.

“So what are you doing out here, slowpoke? Trying to become one with the wheat or something?”

“In a sense, yes.”

Philomena ruffled their feathers, dissatisfied. “Seems like a waste of time to me.”

“Time is ours to waste, isn’t it?”

“Sappy.”

“I suppose.”

They moved in silence for a moment, Philomena shifting uncomfortably the entire time. She was never the type of creature who enjoyed staying still, and though they were in motion, Tank knew that his pace was unsatisfactory for someone like her.

“Where are you even going?” she finally asked.

Tank considered the question for a moment. “I’m unsure. Canterlot, perhaps.”

Philomena let out a mix between a bark and a laugh. “Canterlot? As funny as it’d be to see those snobs freak out when you get there, don’t you know how far away it is?” She used a wing to gesture to the mountain that was virtually another world away.

“I’m in no rush.”

“You never are.” Philomena leapt off of his shell to hover in front of him. “I mean, look at you! You call yourself Rainbow Dash’s familiar?”

He laughed at that, shaking his head. “You haven’t changed.”

“And neither have you.” Philomena rolled her eyes. “I’m disappointed, honestly. I was hoping you’d still have that propeller thing. Or maybe one of those huge new engine things they’re making. Wanted to see if you could keep up with me.”

“I’m sorry to disappoint,” responded Tank earnestly.

Philomena grunted in reply, staring out at the dancing fields of wheat around them. “What’s even out here?”

“Everything,” he replied. “Listen.”

For once, Philomena did, and the air around them was quiet. All was still except for the beating of her wings and the faint whisper of the wind. Birds chirped in the distance, nestled within the sparse trees dotting the land, and the wheat would chaff against itself in response.

To the untrained eye, the landscape was still and motionless. But Tank had learned to look below the surface, to truly appreciate what was at play. Because the world was always spinning, always moving on. Time ticked onwards, and with every second that passed, things changed subtly. When you had as much experience as Tank did, you began to learn how to spot them.

“Quiet,” Philomena observed.

Tank hummed in agreement. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

“It’s okay, I guess.”

That was about as good of an agreement as he’d get from her, Tank figured.

“I can see why you like it.” Philomena paused to peck at their wing. “Quiet, empty place. Good space for thinking, and you love thinking. Very you.”

“I can’t deny that.” The sun was barely over the horizon now. It’d be night soon. “What have you been doing all these years?”

Philomena tilted her head. “Hm. Not much, really,” she admitted. “I got tired of being pampered by nobles ages ago. Thank the stars that Twilight had the sense to let me go.” She scratched her head with a wing. “Honestly? Been thinking about getting out of Equestria. Seeing some of the faraway lands, y’know?”

Tank gazed at her with bemusement. “Hm. What’s been stopping you?”

The phoenix regarded him strangely. “What?”

“Why have you stayed if there’s nothing for you to do?”

Philomena was silent, which was a rarity for her. “I… Dunno. Figured there’d always be time for that later.”

“We don’t know that for certain, do we?” Tank replied with a sad smile.

“Ugh.” Philomena let out a series of disapproving clicks. “I didn’t come here for you to give me a crisis, big guy!” She flew over and gave a few pats on the back of his shell. “I’ll think about it. Thanks for that… I’ll catch you around.”

“Farewell, my friend.”

With that, the phoenix took the skies and disappeared, heading for Canterlot. Tank looked around, unable to gauge the distance he had covered during their conversation. With a chuckle, he shut his eyes, feeling his legs continue to stride forwards, and let his mind wander.

He thought of the other lives he had come to know throughout his own, familiars and ponies alike. Each encounter had spurred something inside of him: as if that old, ancient magic inside was tuning itself, learning from what it was seeing around it. Each one as unique as a shade of the rainbow.

“Do you think she would’ve liked it here?”

Tank hummed, tilting his head in thought. “I’m unsure. I believe that were she alone, she would’ve been dying to leave. But with a friend…”

Twilight nodded in agreement. “Interesting. I can see it, though. She loved spending time with the girls…”

“She loved you all very much.”

“I don’t doubt that.” She paused, scanning the fields in deep thought. “She loved you too, you know.”

He nodded solemnly. “The time we shared together is one that I will treasure forever. Even now, the memories blossom within me.”

“I can feel it too,” Twilight remarked. “The memories and the magic… I’ve never been able to harness it, to study it. It vanishes too quickly. Perhaps it’s just nostalgia.”

“No. It’s more than that. I know it is.” The wheatfields shifted again, and when Tank let out a breath, he found that Philomena had returned. “Back so soon?”

“Soon?! Do you even know what time is,” Philomena clicked at him.

“It loses its charm after a while,” Tank mused. “How was the Dragonlands?”

“Too hot and steamy. Dragons suck. I’m going back in a few months,” the phoenix replied.

Tank just raised an eyebrow, staring up at the starry night sky. “It’s a beautiful night.”

“It’s fine. You’re still a long way to Canterlot, buddy.”

“I’m still in no rush.”

Philomena positioned herself on Tank’s back. “It’s funny, I forget how long dragons can live for. It’s nothing compared to you and me, but they still get to romp around for a while.”

Tank took this information in casually, never pausing in his maneuvering through the wheat.
“You ever stop to think about that kind of thing? That a lot of stuff in this world has a different expiration date.”

“Occasionally,” Tank answered. “Trees, birds, ponies. They all come and go, but regardless of the inevitable end, they all seem to carry on, don’t they?”

“I don’t think a tree is all that worried about when it’s going to die.”

“The Tree of Harmony begs to differ.”

Philomena scoffed. “Yeah?”

“It made great strides to ensure its survival, did it not?”

“You would’ve made a great philosopher.”

“I believe that’s something that would’ve been more fit for Gummy than me,” Tank chuckled.

Philomena smacked his shell with a wing. “Did you just make a joke? I guess the times really are changing.”

“The times really are changing.” Twilight wrinkled her nose. “I feel like I say that a lot nowadays.”

“It remains true,” Tank noted. “Time is always changing.”

“Wise,” Twilight replied, pausing to observe a flower beneath her hooves. “I suppose it’s an easier lesson to learn when you live as long as you and I have.”

Tank bowed his head in acknowledgement. “How is Equestria?”

“I don’t think it’s all too different since you were last there,” Twilight replied. “Ponies coming, ponies leaving. The council turned over again, the staff changed, there’s a new Commander of the Royal Guard. I swore in the 453rd Captain of the Wonderbolts just two months ago.”

“Coming, going. I suppose that encapsulates us in a way. Always coming, always leaving.”

“Always coming, always leaving.” Twilight sighed, stepping over the flower poking up from beneath the ground. “Such is the life of an immortal.”

“I don’t know how I never considered there’s land beyond the ocean,” Philomena said. “So many places that I don’t know if I’ll ever get to go to.”

“I thought you had all the time in the world.”

“Even the flame of a phoenix burns out eventually,” Philomena replied glumly.

“I watched a star burn out from the observatory.” Twilight said the words neutrally, yet the sentence as a whole was tainted with a grim sadness. “Luna cried. I haven’t seen her cry in a long time.”

Tank didn’t reply. Instead, he wondered if the distant city really was drawing any closer.

“It’s just another reminder I suppose that all things are finite.”

“Do you ever feel tired? Every time I come back you’re always moving.”

“Tired? No, I suppose not. I was sedentary for a long time, Philomena. Perhaps I was merely saving my energy for this journey.”

Philomena frowned. “And when does it end?”

“When does it end?”

“It never does. Time is cyclical in its nature. Our endings blossom into new beginnings.”

Twilight sighed quietly. “I can’t tell them apart sometimes.”

Philomena landed in front of him. “One day, I’ll come back, and you won’t be here,” she said simply.

“I know.” He stared at her for a long time before continuing. “I’m not like you. I think that I’ve made enough memories for a lifetime, and I’d like to reflect on the things that have passed.”

“But why? There’s still so much out there, and you’re never going to see it.”

“I don’t wish to. Things always change, and I am satisfied with what I’ve found.” He looked up at the phoenix with a smile. “You and I have chosen to spend eternity doing different things. There’s no crime in that. We are all trying to find our own ways to escape the grief that always comes.”

Philomena sighed and bowed her head. “Point.”

“Until that day comes, all we can do is hope to make the most of it.”

“I suppose,” Twilight replied.

Tank closed his eyes and let the feelings wash over him. Days turned to nights and stars came and went. Twilight would join him to bring updates from the city, and Philomena would come and perch herself on his shell to tell stories from faraway places.

But for the moments in between, there was only the dancing wheat to accompany him. Thoughts swirled around his legs like water, shimmering with each step as they lapped at his sides. Tank felt sadness and guilt, happiness and joy, and a million other things in between. Sunlight kissed his skin and the wind cooled his back, as clouds wandered throughout the sky.

Through it all, he never stopped moving.

“There it is.”

The two pegasi banked down steeply, breaking through the cloud coverage and landing amongst a field of wild grass and flowers. The afternoon sun was warm against their backs, with a gentle wind flowing through their manes.

“Wow. You weren’t kidding.”

“You think I’d make this up?” The first one trotted forwards, pausing to glance back when they noticed their companion’s hesitation. “Come on, Pipp. It’s not going to bite!”

Pipp rolled her eyes. “Coming, Zipp.” Cautiously, she followed her sister.

In a small clearing sat a massive, empty shell.

“Wow. That must have been one huge turtle,” muttered Pipp.

Zipp nodded. “More than that, I’m not certain but… I feel like there had to be magic involved here. Like, the ancient, lost kind. How else do you think it could have lasted this long? Much less gotten this big to begin with?”

“I don’t know.” Hesitantly, Pipp placed a hoof on the side of the shell. A strange sense of longing and sadness overtook her. She turned and glanced up at the sky.

For a split second, she swore that she saw something orange flying against the blue.