//------------------------------// // Wind Chimes // Story: Friendship is Revolution // by ultiville //------------------------------// The sun has vanished behind the low hills to the west of the city - the last, even smaller vestiges of the range that holds Annie-Jane's farm - but its light still lingers, red and shading to violet, staining everything to match the ruddy brick facades of the bar and surrounding buildings. The cloyingly sticky August day is giving ground in the face of the evening breeze, which brings the cool of the endless sea, and the music of wind chimes. The dome of the sky is nearly black. Which is to say, it is twilight, and leaning against the bar's wall, steeping in it, thinking about this unbelievably long day "off", is Princess Twilight. Despite her name, she muses, her younger self wouldn't have enjoyed an evening like this, just lamented the difficulty the dimming light brought to making out the letters on whatever page was hovering in front of her muzzle as she walked. Even in moments like this, Twilight doesn't exactly regret her youthful monomania, but she can see regret from here, and considers that someday she might arrive there. That certainly she would have, had her life not changed at that midsummer those few years ago. A breeze tussles her mane, and the chimes sound again. This time she registers them, and looks around the street in idle curiosity, wondering which house or shop is the source of the noise. She can't see them anywhere. Then she hears them again, and now that she's paying attention, she can tell they aren't coming from a building, but from one of the trees lining the road - the one right in front of the bar, in fact, not far away. Curious, she walks towards it, and a few body lengths away she catches sight of the source of the noise. What she'd taken to be wind chimes are actually a large number of silvery amulets or icons, each about as long as a hoof, hung from the branches of the tree. She moves closer, then stops, mouth slightly open. On the flat of every one of the amulets, her cutie mark is etched, and among them, hung from the tree on ribbons of blue or magenta that match her mane, there's a second canopy of pieces of lavender paper. She comes close, not sure if she feels dread or excitement, or what. Both the amulets and the slips of paper appear to vary in age - a few look to have seen rain, which must date them from before she came back from the farm, and many look washed out by the sun. One of the slips of paper seems totally new, and she rotates it gently in her magic. It's folded over itself, like a card, and held fast with a small strip of tape. She wouldn't be Twilight Sparkle if she didn't open it, and inside a short message is written in a neat hand: Thank you for saving my truck. There must be several dozen pieces of paper hanging from the tree, at least. Some of the older ones were either never secured or have come open on their own, and she gently rotates them to see if there's writing. It's faded and smudged, but legible. Your story made me a better friend. I reconnected with my oldest friend, cheering for you at your trial. When I saw you for the first time, I felt fifty years younger. I owe you my life, after the robbery. The wind picks up, and she can imagine the tree is singing the words. The fur around her eyes is damp, and she looks down reflexively. Around her hooves, several objects have been left at the base of the tree: a few coins, a half-dozen purple candles, burned nearly down, three small plastic dolls of herself, a handful of printed photos or drawings, all of her. She can't help but think it looks like a shrine. She reads some of the newer pieces. Please help me learn to make friends like you did. I need to pass this algebra test so badly, help me study like you. Make the terrorists nice, like you did with Discord, so my daddy can come home. None of these are signed. She's not even sure how she feels about this, or how to think about it. There's a heavy thud next to her. She looks up, and sees Rainbow Dash folding her wings. "Hey Twi," the pegasus says lightly, then looks at her face, and pauses. "What's with this tree? You look...weird." "Didn't we agree you shouldn't fly in the city?" "Whatever. I decided that was dumb after we both totally kicked flank in that awesome car chase. And even I can tell you were trying to change the subject." Dash reads a couple of the slips of paper. "Oh, neat! You've got fans!" "Rainbow!" Twilight gently slips a few of the more pleading messages off the branches and floats them in front of Dash. "These aren't fan letters, and they aren't treating me like a wonderbolt! These are prayers, like I'm...some kind of god." Rainbow reads them over. "Well, look, you kind of are." "No I'm not. I'm just a pony." Rainbow rolls her eyes at her. "Come on, princess. We all left 'just a pony' behind like twenty legendary monsters ago. Then you got wings and a castle. I'm going to be the best wonderbolt ever, but you'll still be the one everypony remembers, not just sports fans." "You know what I mean. How could I help with any of this? They didn't even leave their names." "Well, ok, maybe you won't be able to take this human's math test for her," Dash concedes, "and you'd just tell her she has to learn it herself anyway. But I know you've been working on spells to fix their world. Just the whole giant planet, and you think you can pull enough stuff out of the air to fix how they've been bucking it up. And the best part is, I think you can, because that's what you do." Twilight's just looking at her now, head sideways, eyes wide. "Look, I know you don't want to think you're better than anypony else. I love that about you, we all do. And I dunno maybe you're right, maybe Cherilee and Big Mac and Lyra and Bon Bon would all do what you do, if they could. But they can't. I'm the first pony in forever that can do the sonic rainboom. All six of us are amazing. But when I can't do something, we all go to you. I think these humans," she waves a wing at the tree, "are betting on the right pony. Even if you won't do their homework." Twilight blinks. "Thanks, Rainbow," she nuzzles up against her friend. "I think I needed that. But still, I don't feel good about this. I should tell them I'm not --" She trails off as both of them notice a sudden increase in the noise drifting out from the bar's open door. They look over at the large window and see the two parties of humans at the tables there talking excitedly and gesturing at something further inside. "We'd better see what that is," Twilight says, and Dash nods. The two friends walk in the door together. "Oh, girls, thank Celestia," Rarity says from the stairs, "I certainly hope you can tell me just what is going on."