The Church of the Half Moon

Moments

It was a mucky day. Little drops of rain kept spitting on the folks below, never deciding if it truly wanted to downpour. It left the smell of the mutated creosote brush all across the area. Yet, everything stayed on time today. Including the town’s monthly arrivals. The silver gates roared when they opened. Waves of dust flew and folded over each other. Pixie ran full force ahead of every pony. Jumping on to Jack, he wrapped his hooves around him. It was to be expected, last week he did the same, including this last month, then the year before that. Pixie was starting to tower over Jack. It didn't stop the unicorn from pretending he was still just as small. He wrestled his face as if he was patchwork with Jack’s fur. Jack on the other hoof, struggled to breathe with the scarf that was Pixie around his neck. Squeezing him, the unicorn rocked happily in his spot.

“Pixie! You're stranglin’ me!” Jack managed to get out,

“Sorry! I'm just… heeeh!!” said Pixie, finally letting the other foal breathe.

The weird sound he made got Jack to bust out in a full cackle.

Pixie let go, peeking over the brown colt's ears. He spotted the scary masked stallion, making his already chipped mood brighter. He waved his arm in the air like a flag. He already grabbed the attention of the large gray stallion but he still felt the need to shout.

“Papa!”

The loud scream caused Jack’s ears to lay flat. Pixie’s expression turned into an apologetic smile.

Papa swooped in hugging the young Unicorn in a similar fashion to how Pixie grappled Jack, but with the quarter of the force. Pixie returned the hug, for a second, but Jack was always more interesting. Weaseling out he hopped over to Jack Daniel. Giving himself room to gently tap his hooves into the floor with each idea he laid out.

“What do you want to do first? Oh! How was your trip? Did it go well? Did you encounter any big mean bugs! Also what do you want to do?”

“We can talk- with words?”

“You said you were going to let that go!”

“I said I might!”

“Nuh-uh!”

“Uh-huh!”

“Well, guess what?” Pixie patted the side of his arm, then bolted, “Tag!”

“That's not fair!” Jack called after him, yelling,

Pixie ran under Silver, nearly tripping him, as Jack followed. They used him as a pillar, Pixie blew raspberries in the air at Jack as they paused when they kept blocking each other's way. The only thing that stopped them was a hoof on each of their foreheads.

“Wait til’ after dinner,” Papa said,

It didn't stop their chattering, as they took off towards the stone house. The boys kept running ahead of Pixie's dad, only to run back and start their trip all over again. Silver was so slow, you'd think his longer legs would let him over more ground, yet he dragged on like a doll in a string. Finally at their house, Silver opened the door, and went in, leaving it open for the two.

Before going inside, Pixie's eyes locked on to Memory’s empty house. Nothing changed about it. A part of him expected to see those lights flicker on, then music. He could almost hear Memory play. Every time he would mess up he announced, yelling out a word Pixie wasn't allowed to say. Few times he even got in trouble for it. That only stopped him for a week, then he'd be back to the same old. He was a strange, but good stallion.

Ever since he left that day, he never showed up again. Pixie knew everyone would have to return to the cycle at one point. Most times it just meant a big feast for everypony in town, from what he could remember. Memory felt like a permit mark on Pixie's life. They said, at school, how after 60, your body degrades. Bones whittle down, and your eyes turn blurry. Your skin will sag, and you'll become tired by simply standing up. Pain will be in every muscle, with no peace. It was one of the curses the sun brought pony folk for disobeying her will. It's no life to be lived, but Memory seemed fine, to him. He never accepted help. In the end it was never his choice. Mama said it was the scars on the heart that caused you to hurt the most, Pixie didn't understand how somepony could reach your heart through your bones.

Mayo didn't understand either. She always waited by the door, her once pretty white fur permanently colored a darker shade of tan. Her tail rarely wagged like it used to. She stayed put ever since Miss. Sonata and Mr. Memory said goodbye. Every time somepony took her away she always found a way back. She'd stay there in the same spot, waiting. Defeated the town taken to feeding her, she was old too, retired from hunting. Pixie knew animals can't be reincarnated. Maybe if he ever got to speak with Selene, he could ask; when Memory is reincarnated, Mayo will be by his side again.

“Dusty?” Jack interrupted, nuding Pixie's shoulder,

“She’s a good girl,”

Jack stood there, staring at the white dog, curled in on herself. She laid under a wooden house Clearwaters made for her.

“no luck?”

“Mhm,”

Silver peeked out of the house, “hurry in boys you're letting the hot air out,”

Inside they went. Not a lot has changed in the living room. Genesis was busy cooking in the kitchen. Her hair was tied back, her pretty curls hugged around each other. It smelled like potatoes and pepper. The boys whipped their hooves on the welcome mat, and ran straight into Pixie's room. Silver shook his head, hanging his hat on the lonely rack, before going over to the kitchen to speak with his wife. Pixie's room was filled with his current obsession, music. Sheet music staples to the walls and his beloved guitar was set on his bed. Mama even let him have the family gramophone in his room, him being the only pony to use it.

Little black paws patted at Pixie's window. She meowed, pressing her nose against the glass.

“Shh Pickles, Mom can't hear you,” Pixie said,

Opening the window the little cleft lip cat linked her body against the wall. Lanky steps she took her time getting away from the bipolar rain. She smelled like wet animal, spots on her pelt still contained the water from outside. She propped herself up on Pixie's bed, rolling on her back to stretch those long legs. Her little beans looked like duck feet as she pawed the air, letting out a rumbly purr.

“Hi Pickles,” Jack greeted,

Days like these were Pixie's favorite. His stale room turned into one of muffled giggles. They only hyped each other up to be louder. Until Mama or Papa called them to quiet down in the other room. This only delayed the eventual squeaky cackles and screeching. Pixie would share everything he could with Jack. Offering to read, to him, even trying to give him his few possessions he had. There was a world outside the gates of the village, Jack would give him drops of information. Animals as big as a bus, that was poisonous to the touch. Apparently the church did a good job of keeping this area safe. Wonder struck the colt, how many other outsiders were there out there? They all had to be interesting. Was it a common occurrence to fight those mutated horrors? Was water really that difficult to find out there?

When they got too rambunctious, mother sent them out on some errands. The two made a game out of it. Rushing to each stall trying to fill the little check list as fast as they could. They split it into two, so I was like a scavenger hunt. Pixie did feel like he was cheating because he knew where everything was, but he wasn't going to let Jack know that. When that got old they moved to puddles. Every time they spotted one on the marbled sidewalk, they'd take turns slashing the water around with a jump. Lost, it was as if the two were stuck in their own little world. Only intruded by snorting. When Pixie walked by some of his classmates one of the boys started to snort with each step Pixie took. Only to duck down to laugh with his little group of friends. Pixie’s ears slowly fell, trying to force out a laugh. It was more of a copy than a true show of joy. Jack’s eyes narrowed at the group.

“Do that again, I dare you,” said Jack,

“Or what?” Flint, rolled his eyes, moving in front of his posse, “What you gonna do glitter hoof?”

“I'll kick your ass with these glitter hooves,” Jack moved in front of Pixie,

Flint smirked, one of his friends pushed the side of his flank so he'd get closer to the other boy faster. “You talk a lot of shit for a tiny pony,”

Things were getting bad, “let's go home, Jack,” Pixie begged but Jack was carving valley’s into the sand.

A feminine call took their attention, “My ears better mistake me,”

She was the only mare in town to wear pants. Her legs were long and skinny, like stilts. Her mask was stark white. Strangely simple it had stars on it, mimicking freckles. Long ringlets tied back, framed her head like a lion's mane. They swirled with pinks, purples and blues, overlapping each other in a flurry of colors. A single black moon on her forehead marked her as a part of the council. Her presence was usually a welcomed one, but this was simply not the time. Picpuck, Pixie's older sister, had much to do, so she didn't bother shadowing her annoyance.

She first looked down to Jack, “You, son of the Blue-Flame trading company sigil, it's a privilege not a right that you're here,”

Jack flared his nostrils, “but-”

She ignored him, turning to flint, “And you, colt, how unbecoming of you, To start fights on the streets like mange dogs. What would your mother think of you right now? Should I go retrieve her?”

“No,” Flint-n-Steal avoided eye contact,

Flint anger festered in a two hoof stomp, looking back at his friends he shook his head to storm off. It wasn't long until the others rippled away too. Only then was Picpuck satisfied with the status quo returning order to the village did she leave. Jack waited for them both to disappear.

“Thats’ your sister, right Dusty?” Jack said, as soon as he felt Picpuck wasn't in ear shot,

Too many details rushed Pixie at once. With the moment of rest, he used it to catch up on his breathing. The unicorn felt a rising sense of embarrassment. All he could basically do there was sit and prune his feathers. Yet, he did feel safer, with Jack. You didn't have to be a grown up to understand they were outnumbered. It didn't stop the small brown horse from acting. If the business job doesn't work out, Jack would make an amazing hero.

“I don't like her.” Jack didn't wait for an answer,

Pixie finally came back to equestria, “She means well,”

“Then she should’ mind her own beeswaxes,” said Jack, “or at least listen to us about what happened,”

“Maybe…-” Pixie searched for the right, be it meek words, “thank you,”

“Hm?” Jack comedically blinked, “Oh! Yeah don' mention it,”

This didn't stop him from thinking about it. As the day continued, the sky was dumped with mixtures of reds and pinks, the boys found themselves back at the house. Dinner was eaten, Silver was trying not to doze off on the couch as the boys watched the warm fire crackle in the dim light. The heat dried their eyes and flesh, but it was warmer than the blanket in Pixie's room. Ash flew out of the light source, cinders turned red with enrage, but contained.

“It's weird,” Pixie whispered,

“What's weird?” Jack replied with a yawn,

“How fire is from… her, but we keep it in the chimney,”

“Celeste?”

“Mhm, the sun”

“Its nice-”

Was it wrong to think so? It would be a lie to disagree, but it felt gross. Like he was hurting someone he didn't know for thinking anything to do with Celeste was… positive. There was warmth to her chaos. She added excitement to Selene’s gentle quiet. Even how she burned, the fire never danced in the same spot twice. It swayed and raised as it ate the wood below. Different shades of reds and oranges, like the sleeping sun outside. They faded up, energy flowing, glittering in the air. Yet she was transparent, unreliable, she was in a constant state of change. Pixie placed out his hoof, trying to grasp the flames twirling, enticing, yet it was slapped before he could make contact.

“Well don't touch it!” Jack scolded,

Papa stirred, causing the two to crane their heads back. Then, a knock at the door caused both of the boys to jump, Pixie even let a sharp yell. Papa was awoken with the knock, but he got onto all fours when he heard Pixie yell. He looked around, seeing the little awkward bunch huddled together on the floor. A heavy sigh came from the workhorse. Then yet another knock. Silver went to the door, opening it, to see Jack’s parents. With a nod, Jack knew the sound of their voices. Papa never spoke to them, in all honesty there were very few members of the church that talked to Jack’s Mama and Papa. It was the worst game of charades, as silver motioned for the two to say their goodbyes. Pixie gave Jack another squeeze, before he too left until next week. The colt was already counting the seconds till then. Once the door closed Papa went back to the couch, taking off his mask and placing it on the arm of the sofa.

“Papa?”

“Yes Pixie?”

“Why are you so quiet when Jack’s Mama and Papa are here?”

“We… um we aren't allowed to talk to them,”

“We aren't?”

“Well you are, until you're 13,”

“Huh?”

“Children's… their souls are still tied to the moon, the older we get the further we become,” Silver tried to explained, “So you're allowed to be friends now, but once you're an adult, we have to keep our distance,”

Pixie didn't answer. So Papa gently patted his head.

“You have a while until then, love, so try to have fun while you can,”

Pixie nodded…

“Try to get some sleep, it's getting late,”

The colt dragged his feet into his room. Removing his guitar from his bed, he crawled in. Pickles, was still curled in a ball on one of his pillows. Picpuck was allowed to talk to them, anyone with the black moon on their foreheads was allowed. So why were they any different? He knew Jack was an outsider, so was his Mama and Papa, his sisters and brothers. Their hooves have been on the secret land, their figures seen by Selene. Would he really have to stay away?