Starfall

Starfall, the fallen stars that are snuffed out too soon. Looking up at the sky you'd see the stars of the past shoot off into the abyss, leaving a trail of softened voices. When you are taken back to the cycle, that life's memory is written in Selene's gentle sky. You are given a set time on this plane, and then your memories of your love shall shine on your kin. Then, there are constellations. Those souls that were alive to see the rise of Selene's and the Sun’s story. Those are the true elders of the world, immortalizing history for their peers, or even reminding their future hearts of events of those distant dreams. Not many know how to read their thoughts above, less are blessed to hear them.

Yet those fallen stars aren't completely lost. One night, there shall be a blanket of lights, where all those memories reunite. Shining so close together they create a sea of stories. Together for their final, last time, where you can say things never said. You will recall every life you had, every moment you stepped, and the laughter you had graced your ears. A gift given by the moon herself. Then once that night ends, all the stars shall fall into a blaze of their own, and when that happens it shall be so long into the future none shall remain to speak of the tale. Besides Selene, there she would meet her sister again, united with all the moon princesses before. Would they fight against the backdrop of pure emptiness? Shall their reunion be fruitful? Only speculation can come from the image, the tale is what Starfall was named after. It was also one the first scripture you are taught. That was the cycle, that is why it is so important to live your life with the grace of the moon guiding you, because each story is precious, like the crystals Papa mined. Goodbyes are only temporary, it is always until next time, until that last time. Even if Pixie couldn't fully understand, the story came to memory more than a few times, the imagery tranced as murals in the very walls.

Pixie was in the dining hall, by the glass. Viewing that massive sphere, forever rotating. Light reflecting off of it echoing blues and greens, like scales on a dragon. It wasn't levitating with magic, maybe it was some kind of enchantment, he didn't know. It was strange seeing the sick here, so far from home, where Mistyeyes have check ups on Pixie and his family. The walk was long, so it was fair to question how they got here. A lot of coughing into rags, so harshly the adults had to slide their mask down to catch that black stuff coming from them. Though, that sound was more of a weeze, harsh on the throat.

A stallion sat by him, he coughed into a rag that he shoved up his mask, a nasty dry one that seemed to be extra loud. Pixie moved slightly, not trying to catch his black spit in his fur as he felt himself begin to fumble with his hooves. The stallion didn't look at him, so focused on the rotating false moon, Pixie doubted he’d seen him in the first place. There was little light in that adult's eyes, no catch of glimmer behind those caves of that mask. He was older than Pixie but the colt could have sworn he remembered him graduating. Yet he had a storied life, one Pixie would never be a part of. No, Pixie would remain a drop of water in an overflowing bucket. Maybe his star already found a place in the sky?

“Are you okay, sir?” Pixie asked,

“No, I'm not.”

“Why?”

“...I'm,” the stallion looked beside him, his eyes widening when he had to look down, only then did his voice become softer, “I'm being- tested,”

“Tested?”

“Yes, I'm sick,”

“...Oh, then you should be resting,”

He laughed, “I have been but this is a special kind of sick,”

“Oh… how so?”

“It's a bit of a loaded question for the young colt like yourself,”

“Oh! But I'm almost an adult, sir,”

“I understand but you got bigger stars to shoot for, instead worrying about some stallion,”

“Well-” there was very little Pixie could say, “I hope you feel better,”

The stallion let out a soft laugh, taking that handkerchief to muffle his cough that was after it. He didn't need to laugh, Pixie could feel the act of it. Playing the part, to mask that soulless tone of his. Yet he did, and he didn't know how to ask why without it being rude. That mask was blue, with white dots under where his eyes would be. The pattern was almost moving if you stare too long at it, even if he could only study the side of it.

Then, Papa called, “Pixie Dust!”

Pixie turned his head to the sound, he stood up, giving the stallion one last look, “I gotta go, sir, don't worry about that test, you can always retake them right?”

Maybe the nice stallion couldn't hear him, yet Pixie lacked the time to say it again. No, he had to find Papa.

Papa was by those giant doors, the same with the windows surrounding them. Children had gathered, with their Papa’s and Mama's, already snickering like mice in a pantry. Picpuck was there too, counting and recounting before her ears perked up and she gave a soft pat to a work horse beside her. Nodding to him, he let out a rumble in return, before speaking over the small group.

“Alright kiddos, there's a few rules you'll” and that's where Pixie stopped paying attention. He didn't really know Clear Waters too well. He knew he's heard his mama gossip with another mare how he never remarried and how he was a spider. Waters didn't look like a spider, and he didn't understand why he would need to be married again, don't you automatically get married when you get your face? Besides he never met a stallion with two wives before. Maybe because he was a spider he was meant to have multiple wives. Spider could be a mean name he was given, but Mama wasn't mean, she wouldn't say that.

As Mr. Clearwater stopped speaking; he led the group away from Starfall, leaving Picpuck behind. They went past the forest, following a trail trampled on again and again. No roots stood in their way as they came closer to massive caverns littering the side of the mountain. Only to line up against the mountain wall as they were each given a pic. Boring ones, without any of the carving that Papa’s had. Still they were heavy, Pixie dragged him behind his teeth. The head of the pic was doing good plowing chasms into the dirt… it would have been fun! If it wasn't so hard.

Dusty it was, enough to catch Pixie's nose and cause him to sneeze. Unprocessed marble was like a thick shell on the outermost layer of the cave, the deeper you got the darker it became, where the only light was coming from the Adult’s mask. Pixie thought it was jewelry at first, little small crystals connected to the mask’s horn, yet they glowed. Illuminating the dank surroundings like the lights they string up when the fairs would come around. The halls and paths fluctuated with how big they got. Some had wide openings with many missing pieces from the ceiling and floor. Others were so narrow Papa's butt could barely fit though it. It took everything from Pixie to not laugh at that.

The colt watched as other's split from the group, and how Papa tapped his shoulder and nodded for him to follow. Pixie had to lay the Pic against the wall so he could readjust and back track to follow his father. Traveling down into a decently sized opening, Pixie watched his father stop. Dad then unhooked his own pickaxe from his saddle and held it with his teeth. Canning his head the metal fractured a rock as if it was butter making it crumble into much smaller pieces. Nodding he placed the pickaxe back into his belt.

“Just like that,” Papa said, “now go on,”

Pixie looked up at his father, then at the former rock… “I don't think I can,”

“Well at least give it a try,”

Sighing, Pixie bit down on the handle. Letting out a growl as he tried to force the Pickaxe up.

“Don't use your neck, use your back,”

What do you mean not use your neck? The colt dug his hooves into the dirt, feeling his legs shake and the pickaxe lifted from the ground. He was doing it, he was going to make this rock into pebbles!

SCREEEEEEEEEEECH

A large scratch was left on the rock as it bounced off. Pixie felt his head vibrate as his vision crossed, the handle slipped out of his mouth and he fell face first into the dirt.

“Are you alright?” Papa came up right beside him,

“Heavy-” Pixie Whined tasting a bit of dirt as he did so.

“Try using your head,” Silver tapped the horn on Pixie's head…

Pixie looked up, running his tongue along his newly chipped tooth. Sighing he got up. If it meant getting out of here sooner, then he would try anything at this point. The small unicorn steadied his breathing as a faint glow encompassed the wood handle. Yet it still wouldn't move, “Okay there! It's heavy Pa!”

“You ain't a quitter, give it another go,”

Mama would have corrected his grammar there… It would have gotten Pixie to giggle if his head wasn't still ringing at the moment… stepping aside, Pixie widened his stance. Taking a deep breath in, he closed his eyes once again. His horn glowed, as he let the heat of his magic accumulate before engulfing the pickaxe again. It seemed stubborn to stay down, as Pixie furrowed his brow, scrunching up his entire face. As it lifted, it felt easier the higher it became, enough for Pixie to open his eyes to watch the tool slam against a rock, revealing a geode inside.

“Great job!” Papa yelled,

Just like that, Pixie felt his chest flutter as he breathed out… He was a little light headed, and hopefully that would be the last thing his father would ask of him to do for tonight. Only then was he lifted off his hooves onto Papa’s back. His dad trotted around in a circle, as if he was Pixie's age.

“Look at you!” He said, “If your mother saw ya’ now, she'd be just as proud Dust bunny!”

Pixie furrowed his brow… Confused as he followed those hollow eyes on his mask. His heart sank with the new mark on his flank.

A Drop in a Bucket

“Congratulations,”

Too many eyes were on him at once. Familiar faces, some voices he could only recall and vague blurbs in the back crevices of his memory. The kids weren't calling him Pig-xie, their smiles were still there yet it wasn't the same… Adults walked up to look at it too, saying such kind things… Yet it felt bare like it was another piece of dirt he needed to wash off.

“Oh how pretty!”

“How lucky.”

“It's so big,”

It was big, a butterfly with crystal wings perched on an orange pickaxe. Smaller jewels that went all the way down to his gaskin. What felt right was to smile back, though there was a pressure on him. Like when he dunked himself under the water of a bathtub. Staying to see how long he could hold his breath. Feeling the water raise his mane up and tangle it, how it slowly began to chill. His body fluttered as if it was in that tub, the same that got him to kick when he couldn't hold his air in for much longer. How that raised his fur to its edge, but he needed to beat his counting on his head. A rush of energy into relief as he gasped up in that ridgid bite of cold. Only now this feeling was longer. It wasn't overwhelming like the need for air, but it didn't drift off into the background. No it was like there was glass barely flesh with the water. Keeping him in a loose hug, that was only barely more comforting than the air above. That once enchanting world, of twisting trees with crystals embedded into their bark, charms that saved lives, every pony there. Even the pale eggshell blue colored tiles of the bathroom. It looked dimmer. Washed out, even his memories.

Why wouldn't they be happy for him? Kindness on their part, memories of their own Special day, how his time allowed the few here to actually see his cutie mark in his lifetime. A blessing that he needed to be grateful for. A gift that jealousy could be felt in the look of other foal’s eyes. Pixie could see what that stallion in Starfall saw. They were always looking through the same glass only at different points. Pixie did the same thing to him. Not once had he got his name, or cared to remember it. Never shared their dreams, only stayed in their reality. A drop in his overflowing bathtub. The more he understood the world the younger felt. How small was he in this village? How tinner he must be for the outside to see him.

Everything changed, When Pixie got his cutie mark.

Author's Note

THIS IS the end of the first arc.

Also sorry I didn't post on Friday last time and ended up posting Saturday, I'm couch surfing, 19, disowned from my family for being queer, so shit happens.

But I finally got a job ;3... I'm hoping my life can get on track...

What's going to happen later in the series?
The next arc is mostly build up.

The last arc is just BOOM explosions. Ya know?

I'm going to take a short break, until I have everything to its final draft. Thank you those who have read this, and taking a chance. I have to take many breaks with this story cuz' of it's contents, but I won't stop posting until the story is done because it means a lot to me.

I'll see you on the next full moon.