• Published 30th Apr 2014
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Never The Final Word (Vol. 1) - horizon



An open anthology of brief continuations of other authors' stories.

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The Next Day (darf's "Cumuliform")

Author's Note:

[Slice of Life]

This is a continuation of darf's Cumuliform (1750 words, [Slice of Life]).

CUMULIFORM SPOILERS: Rainbow Dash has a midlife crisis — panicked by the thought that the days are starting to blur into each other, and she's building meaningless and indistinguishable memories out of them. Dash speaks with Applejack (who is proud of the mundane accomplishments of her life) and then flies away, ambiguously reassured.

Dash closed the door behind her, took a deep breath, and looked up.

Celestia had already set her quill down, and was making a show of levitating her pile of scrollwork off to one side of the desk. "Rainbow Dash," she said, eyes bright, smile genuine, tone sincere. "It's so wonderful to see you."

"Yeah," Dash said, rubbing the back of her neck with a hoof, heat rising in her cheeks. What had she been thinking? "Thanks. For the audience, I mean."

"I would do the same for any pony who had saved Equestria multiple times," Celestia said with droll understatement, "but that's not why I'm happy to see you here. I hear so much about you from Twilight's letters, and I've enjoyed the times we've chatted. I had been hoping I would someday get the chance to speak with you more personally. Tea?" She gestured to the sideboard by the door, where a pitcher of iced orange-brown liquid sat, sides glistening with condensation.

Dash suddenly placed the scent of orange-blossom and herb and sugar her earlier breath had hinted at. Her mouth watered. Sweetened Qilinese citrus tea. Her favorite —

No. Focus.

She drew in another breath of sweet distraction, and exhaled deliberately, the scent clinging to the inside of her nostrils. "No. Um. No thank you, Your Highness. Actually, um … I just came to ask you something."

Celestia caught and held her gaze, resting elbows on table and muzzle on forehooves, an easy smile on her face, her mane gently floating in some intangible wind. "Of course. What can I do for you?"

Dash stared back — feeling intensity tighten her forehead and twitch at the corners of her mouth. One of Celestia's eyebrows quirked up several degrees: a silent statement of curiosity — an invitation to confide — maternal and welcoming — an impossible wealth of emotion for a simple muscular shift. Then her smile broadened, making Dash feel as if they were sharing a private joke.

It was utterly disarming. Dash almost laughed, and couldn't quite keep a smile from her muzzle. She gave into it as gracefully as she could, flashing teeth, then cleared her throat behind the mask of a hoof, and blurted out:

"Do you know what day it is?"

Celestia's expression froze.

It was only for a moment, but it was unmistakeable. Her face went perfectly blank, the smile tightening into pleasant insincerity, and in that moment her eyes were a mirror in the fearsome, featureless frame of her face, and Dash saw herself writ larger than she had ever imagined she might become.

"Of course," Celestia said before Dash could fully process the thought. The mirror cracked. Her smile relaxed. "It's Haypril 3. Two weeks past Spring Equinox. Three days before the Robins' Ball. The ninth birthday of the gryphon ambassador's daughter. The anniversary of the founding of Fillydelphia. The traditional start date of the Rose Fair in the Canterlot outdoor markets — even though they pushed it back this year due to some late-scheduled spring storms."

Dash stared mutely, heart thudding in her breast. She had seen it. For that split second, she'd seen it.

Celestia's smile fell. She stood and paced to the window, staring out into the courtyard. The room fell into an uneasy silence, punctuated by the regular shouts and hoof-falls of a Guard drill far below.

At length, Celestia asked softly, "What day is it, Rainbow Dash?"

Dash walked up to the window, staring down at the ponies marching in formation.

"I don't know," she said.

Off to one side of the courtyard, a mare and her foals were sitting on the grass, eating lunch and watching the drills. The youngest filly was squealing excitedly, pointing at one of the stallions in armor, and marching up and down the grass at the edge of the practice yard with exaggerated swings of her hooves.

"But it was Wednesday yesterday," Dash added. "I'm pretty sure. I was talking to Applejack. That's what she said."

Something touched Dash's back. She almost leapt out of her skin before she realized that it was Celestia's wing, resting gently on the crest of her spine, curling maternally around her side. She drew in a tense breath and sidled in underneath the shelter of the princess' feathers.

"I don't know either," Celestia said.

Dash knew. But it still helped to hear it.

"But Wednesday's just a name," Celestia continued. "It's a way of parceling up time, trying to force it into the little boxes of our lives. Weekdays are a very Twilight way of thinking about time, aren't they?"

"Heh," Dash said. "Yeah."

"So, Rainbow Dash, what happened yesterday?"

Down below, the guards halted at a shouted command, reversed direction, and marched toward the grass. The filly squealed, dashed out onto the hard-packed dirt, and hugged the leg of a soldier. He staggered to a halt, trying to dislodge her, and the formation bunched and broke.

"I. Uh. Talked to Applejack. Had Twilight send a scroll to the castle. Packed my things. Thought about flying here and sleeping in Canterlot overnight. Thought about cancelling and not coming at all. Went to bed and told myself I'd see how I felt in the morning. Couldn't sleep. Got up before dawn and watched the sun rise mid-flight. Though I guess that was today."

The drill sergeant was screaming in the soldier's face. He was standing rigid — if slightly askew, with the filly clinging to his leg — and staring out into the distance. The mare on the grass was cringing apologetically, beckoning the filly back.

"What about you?" Dash asked.

The filly finally disentangled herself from the soldier's leg and shuffled back to the grass, head drooping. The soldier snapped a salute to the drill sergeant, red-faced, and began galloping around the perimeter of the exercise yard.

"I had dinner with my sister," Celestia said. "Mixed nuts and imported dried sweetfruits on a bed of chilled steamed dandelion greens." She waved a hoof, sunlight gleaming off of the golden solleret. "Also signed a treaty that will shape our relationship with the gryphon kingdoms for a generation, negotiated a budget that will keep the wheels of Equestria grinding for another decade, hosted a groundbreaking lecture on magical theory at Canterlot University, and won my annual game with the national lapides grandmaster. But, you know. Usual stuff. Hardly worth mentioning."

Dash looked up at Celestia's muzzle. The gentle smile was back.

"And dinner with Luna was?" she asked.

Celestia's lips curled into an impish grin. "It was a very nice dinner."

"The sort of dinner you'll remember in thirty years?" Dash pressed.

"No," Celestia said.

Dash sighed, turning her gaze back to the window. Down in the courtyard, the mare on the grass gave her filly a hug.

"But I'll remember that I enjoyed it," Celestia added quietly. "And sometimes that's enough."

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