//------------------------------//
// I Can't Go Back 
// Story: Crystal's Hopes 
// by Crystal Wishes 
//------------------------------//

"Cut!  Cut, cut, cut, cut, cut!"

Crystal had lost count of how many times Magic Hour had cried that word the past couple months, waving his forelegs and clicking his tongue.  She groaned out a sigh and dropped her head down to rest on her forehooves.  "What this time?" she grumbled, glancing at Golden.

The two of them sat in the shade of an open-faced tent, watching the filming process from the sidelines like fans rather than part of the team.  Everypony else was on set, which was really just a sandy location that didn't get battered by the wind as much as the rest of the desert.  Which was more sand.

Saddle Arabia was just a bunch of sand.  Hot, sweltering sand by day—frigid, freezing sand by night.  Sand, sand, sand.  Sand to the north.  Sand to the south.  Sand in her mane.  Sand in her mouth.

Crystal hated sand.

Golden continued to fan herself, her keffiyeh tossed onto the rug beneath them so she could feel the air directly on her coat.  "Who knows?  More importantly, who cares?"

"I do."  Crystal sat upright, wincing at the ache in her muscles, and raised her voice.  "What now, Director?"

"They were forgetting—"  Magic Hour spun about, his sudden motion kicking more of that dreadful sand into the air.  His thwab flared out as his wings tried to expand for emphasis.  "—the sparkle!  The pizazz!  The wow and ooh-la-la, my darling!  Acting is just acting without it!  I need to taste the moment, not merely see it!"

What did it matter?  What did any of it matter?  Crystal sighed and relented with a nod.  "I understand."

While the Arabians got back into their roles, Crystal and Golden sat in relative silence.  The wind blew sand into her eyes.  Her ears felt rough and worn from the grains blown into them.  If she survived this trip, she'd never take the safety and comfort of her house for granted ever again.

"I really thought this was going to be more, I don't know—fun."  Golden scrunched up her nose.  Her mane was matted with sweat and plastered along her neck as if she had just stepped out of a shower.  "It would be slightly more tolerable if Dusty would cut that mane of his so he didn't sweat himself into a heatstroke every time he steps out of his tent."  She fluttered her fan for emphasis: ever since their arrival, she'd had to—Celestia and Luna forbid—take care of herself.  "No offense, but I regret coming."

"Me, too," Crystal muttered, dropping her gaze to her hooves.  "I thought this would be a wonderful adventure of seeing Saddle Arabia and getting to help bring my story to life."

The sound of Golden's fan stopped.  Crystal looked up to see the mare staring at her, a serious look in those blue eyes.  "And why aren't you?  Why are you just letting Majesty and his goons trample all over you?  Far be it for me to tell you what to do, but I thought it was your story."

Crystal didn't respond at first.  She returned her attention to the filming.  This was the scene where Khalil and Ghareeb begged Fatinah for help.

"I love him, Fatinah," Wajdi said, turning his eyes to Faizan.  His voice wasn't Khalil's at all; his eyes weren't, either.  There was a sincerity in both that sent Crystal's heart fluttering.  "I want to spend the rest of my life with him, no matter the cost."

Faizan stammered over his line.  Had he noticed the same thing as Crystal?

"Cut!"  Magic Hour stomped his hooves.  "Darlings, sweethearts, precious ones—please!  Faizan, take a lesson from our absolutely magnificent Wajdi.  I believe his words!  The passion!  The fire!"

"Seconded," Golden purred.  "That was some hot stallion love."

Crystal laughed, albeit somewhat breathlessly.  "You sound like Velvet."  She tilted her head to the side, watching as Faizan avoided Wajdi's gaze.  "Though, I am starting to wonder.  Have you noticed—"

"—how Wajdi is always watching Faizan like a lovesick colt?"  Golden gave an enthusiastic nod.  "I keep hoping to catch them making out behind one of the tents."

Crystal's face heated up from more than just the desert sun.  "Now you really sound like Velvet!"

A companionable silence fell between them as they watched the filming go on.  When a break was called, Crystal scrambled to her hooves and hurried to Wajdi's side.  "May I ask you a personal question?"

He blinked down at her, the lean muscles of his neck tightening.  "Perhaps."  He nodded his head to urge her to follow as he walked away from the others.  Once they were a safe distance away, he turned toward her.  "Yes?"

Crystal felt her face got hot again, but pushed through the embarrassment.  "How do you feel about the, ah, the ending?"

Wajdi's ear flicked.  "The ending?"

"That Fatinah gives up her freedom for Khalil and Ghareeb, that they have to take her freedom to be together."  Crystal glanced up at him, then quickly dropped her gaze.  "How do you feel?"

For a while, Wajdi was silent.  When Crystal looked back up, there was a fire of immeasurable depth in his eyes that vanished as quickly as she noticed it.  "It is the way life is here.  I understand that, in Equestria, you have the freedom to love anyone you choose."  This time, he was the one who looked down.  "The version you imagined is a nice fantasy, but it could never come true."

Crystal took a small step back as a wave of deja vu washed over her.  "Say that again?"

He blinked.  "The version you imagined.  It is a nice fantasy, but it could never come true."

A bubble of giggles surprised even herself as they escaped her.  "You're right."  She reared back onto her hindlegs and stretched her forelegs as far as they would reach in an attempt to clasp his cheeks.  He obliged her by leaning down.  "You're right!  Thank you!"

As she turned away and started to trot toward where Magic Hour and Prince Majesty stood, Wajdi called after her, "You are welcome?"

"Crystal?"  Majesty smiled at her approach.  "There you are!  We were just going over the script, and—"  His mouth snapped shut as pink magic engulfed his muzzle.

"I apologize, Prince Majesty, but I have something to say."  Crystal cleared her throat as all nearby eyes turned to her.  "I refuse."

Majesty gawked, and Magic Hour asked, "You refuse what, princess?"

Crystal waved her hoof in a large, vague circle.  "I refuse to support this film if you continue filming with the script as it is written."

With a flare of his own magic, Majesty broke the hold she had on him and stormed up to her.  "Mrs. Wishes!  I thought we agreed that this was the best ending?  You and Silver Script did such a wonderful job, after all!"

"Silver did a wonderful job."  Crystal shook her head.  "Not one word of the current ending is penned by me, and I will publicly state as much if you insist on going with it."

Majesty's ears fell and he looked around as if to seek support, but everypony remained silent.  "I don't understand.  What happened?  Haven't you had fun these past few months watching your story come to life?"

"I haven't, and that's why I don't want to see it end this way."  Crystal tossed her mane as she held her head high.  "I forgot something very important that a dear friend told me once.  Readers don't want the truth.  They want to believe in happily ever afters, and it's my job to deliver on that."

Behind the crowd of wide eyes staring at her, Crystal caught Golden's gaze—and saw the same pride she felt at that moment.  Regardless of the outcome, she had finally stood up and spoken her mind.  Somewhere along the way, she had forgotten that she was not just a writer, but a successful one.  One who had fans that trusted her, who had done this long enough to know just what to do.

Djamila's brow arched.  "What would you have, then?  An impossible dream?"

Crystal inclined her head to look up at the mare, but utilized the proper angle to give the appearance of looking down her muzzle.  "I have an idea for a compromise.  What if Fatinah were to form a new herd?"

"A new herd?"  Faizan blinked as his ears swiveled forward.  "What do you mean?"

Crystal nodded.  "I fully admit that there are aspects of your culture I didn't study thoroughly enough.  I apologize for that.  But I don't want to ruin the message of my story trying to make amends.  I respect your culture, but I am also a romance writer, not a historian.  I've written impossible dreams before."

Djamila didn't respond at first, giving Majesty time to jump in and say, "But Mrs. Wishes!  We already have a script, and it's a wonderful one!  Last minute changes are—"

"Pretty normal when working with you, actually," Silver Script muttered.

Majesty shot him a light glare.  "This is different!"

Silver Script just shrugged.  Magic Hour tapped a hoof on the sand and sighed.  "Well, then, wow me, princess.  Convince me that this is the ending of this story with your heart, not your words."

Crystal nodded confidently even though nerves started to set in.  Her mind raced to come up with the words fast enough.  Closing her eyes, she carefully and slowly said, "Khalil and Ghareeb discover their feelings have grown for one another, not for Fatinah.  They resolve themselves to find a mare to wed and deliver the news to Fatinah.  Fatinah sees in them the same struggle that has been raging in her heart: a desire for freedom.  Their herds would look down on them for wanting to wed each other, and her herd looks down on her for not wanting to wed at all.

"That is when she knows what she must do.  She cannot change what already exists, but she can try to start something new.  A new herd.  One of acceptance, of freedom."  Crystal opened her eyes.  "Perhaps it is an impossible dream, but in the world of literature, nothing is impossible."

Silence reigned for a while until Wajdi spoke up.  "I do not see a problem in dreaming."  His gaze was fixed on the distant horizon.  "I would like to believe in such a herd."

"Me, too."  Faizan lowered his head, sending a quick, shy glance at Wajdi.  "I have never considered a life outside of Al-Jawhar, but..."

Djamila looked between them with wide eyes.  "A herd!  You would leave the safety and security of home for a herd?  Roaming the desert as a Badawi?  Why?!"

"Hurriyah," Wajdi said in a soft voice that was nearly lost on the wind.

Faizan nodded.  "Freedom."

It was at that moment that realization seized Djamila's expression as she stared at her brother, then at Faizan.  Slowly, her gaze slid to Crystal, and she blinked a few times before straightening up.  "So be it.  You are Crystal Wishes, the Writer."

"I am."  Crystal smiled and repeated, more to herself than anypony else, "I am."

Magic Hour's head suddenly flew up, the feathers around his neck and shoulders ruffling from the sudden movement.  "I have heard your heart, pet.  You have been sitting so quietly that I thought you simply didn't care."  His eyes sparkled—possibly from passion, but most likely from the copious amounts of glitter he wore.  "Now I see!  You were hiding this passion all along!  Why would you lock away such earnest desires?  Sweetheart, I have been trapped in a desert without a drop to drink, and you've been hiding an oasis!"

Majesty furrowed his brow, gaze locked on Crystal.  His eyes seemed to search her for something.  Weakness?  An answer?  Whatever it was, he didn't find it.  "Well, if everypony thinks it's a good idea..."

"Chop, chop!"  Magic Hour tapped his hoof to thud against the sand.  "We haven't a moment to waste!  Darling, keep that passion rolling.  We'll do it live!  To Tartarus with a script!"

Crystal nodded and turned her attention back to the Arabians.  "What do you need from me?"

"You have already given what I need."  Wajdi walked over to take position on the set.  "I understand Khalil."

Djamila hesitated before following her brother.  "I need nothing, as well.  I understand Fatinah."

"I will take your assistance in their stead, then."  Faizan laughed, shaking out his mane and looking down at Crystal.  "I am not sure if I know what to say without a script."

Crystal bit her lower lip, then nodded and started walking to where Faizan would stand beside Wajdi.  "Let's do a practice run, then.  I'll show you what I see in my head."

Wajdi glanced down at her, then broke into a whinnying laugh.  "Oh, this will be fun."

Magic Hour clapped his hooves.  "Settle down!  Settle down.  Get into character.  Feel the moment."

Crystal breathed in through her nose.  She was Ghareeb.  She was in love, desperately, but there was a chasm between her and Khalil.  A chasm she could do nothing about.

"Taste the scene.  And—action!"

"I love him, Fatinah," Wajdi said, turning his eyes to Crystal.  The passion from before was gone, but it would suffice.  "I want to spend the rest of my life with him, no matter the cost."

Djamila's brow furrowed as she looked between Wajdi and Crystal.  "But—Khalil, you're both stallions."

"Why is that our fault?" Crystal asked, remembering all the time she spent pining over Silent to fuel the feelings behind her voice.  "I didn't ask to be born a stallion.  I didn't ask to fall in love with another stallion.  But I am asking for your help.  We are asking for your help."

Djamila paused before she took a step back, eyes locking with Wajdi's.  "You want me to give up the life that I know for your happiness?"

Wajdi didn't hesitate.  The fire returned and he held Djamila's gaze without wavering in the least.  "What other option do we have?  Our herd will not accept us without you."

A beat of silence held them until Djamila sighed.  "And our herd will not accept me as I am."

Crystal stepped closer to Wajdi, pressing her shoulder against his leg; it would have been a more romantic gesture were she taller.  "Please, Fatinah.  In return, we will take care of you as husbands should."

A well-timed wind washed over them, stirring their manes.  It was as if time stood still and refused to move until they were ready—a patient but encouraging force that reassured them to move past the part where Fatinah gave up.  This felt right: being involved, ending it her way, standing for what she wanted.

"No."  Djamila's voice was firm as she straightened up.  "No, Khalil.  I have known you too long to allow this.  I love you like a brother."

Crystal felt Wajdi tense by her side and she glanced up to see an uncertain look in his eyes while his sister continued to speak.

"We cannot be the only ones who feel this way."  Djamila gave a soft but beautiful smile—one that was sincere.  "I cannot find a place that accepts me, so I will make one.  Follow me, Khalil, Ghareeb, and let's all make one together."

Faizan stepped forward, and Crystal took that as a cue to back away as he said, "Make one?  How?"

Crystal quietly trotted over to where Golden stood off to the side and felt her heart flutter at the pleased smile sent her way.  "What do you think?"

The fan in Golden's magic paused, folded up, and bopped Crystal on the nose.  "I think you took too long to finally say something."  She laughed as she shook her head and resumed fanning herself.  "Magic Hour seems pleased."

Crystal looked over to see Magic Hour trotting in place, practically glowing with excitement.  Majesty had the expression and posture of a sullen teenager.  But as the Arabians ran through several variations of the scene—each time growing more confident in their words and actions—even he started to perk up.  Soon it was hard to tell if they were acting or not, and nopony could take their eyes off them.

Was this the magic of film?  This was certainly not an experience Crystal could ever enjoy through her writing alone.  She wanted to write it down nonetheless, however, so she could remember it forever.  Did that count as ironic?

"We'll have to celebrate," Golden said with a confident nod.  "You finally grew a spine."

With a soft laugh, Crystal shook her head.  "No, I didn't.  I merely found it again.  I—I don't know why, but I forgot that I have authority.  That I have opinions that matter.  Isn't that embarrassing?"

"Hmm."  Golden lowered herself onto the shaded rug and stretched out on her side, drawing one hoof across the sand.  "No, I think it's perfectly normal.  I spent so many years listening to others tell me how to model: how to pose, how to smile, how to dress.  I've always known these things.  My mother made sure of that.  But I didn't trust that I actually knew anything.  I don't know why, but I think the more we know, the more we doubt."

Crystal smiled as she watched the sand move under Golden's ministrations.  "Then how did you stop doubting?"

Golden's lips curled into a grin and she lifted her head to look up at her.  "I got so angry that I blew up at a designer who was making a fuss over nothing.  He backed down like a coward, and I realized that I had power.  After that, I never forgot."

"Power."  Crystal breathed in the hot air and held it for a moment before sighing.  "I don't know if I feel like I have power yet, but I certainly feel weight removed from my soul.  I suppose that's power in and of itself."

Magic Hour whirled around to look at them.  "Sweetheart, you can't sit down now!  We have so much to do!  This is such a pivotal moment.  You want it to be perfect, don't you?  Don't you?  Of course you do!  Now get your little rump over here!"

Crystal almost squeaked as she scrambled to her hooves.  "Coming!"

Golden waved her fan like a dainty kerchief.  "Have fun!"

Fun was not quite the right word, but Crystal certainly enjoyed herself.  Hours slipped by much faster than they ever had before as she and Silver Script tweaked the lines that the Arabians spoke from their hearts.  This wasn't just about her story anymore.  This meant something to these three.  Wajdi and Faizan grew closer, and Djamila saw her brother in a new light.

Watching her ideas change lives in front of her very eyes was suddenly more important to her than getting her way with the film, and she was lucky enough to get both at the same time.

When the air started to chill under the sun's retreating rays, Magic Hour clapped his hooves.  "All right, everypony!  Fabulous work!  I think we made real progress today, and I'm loving it!  Bright and early tomorrow, all right, my sunshines?"

Crystal practically had to drag herself to her tent.  She had spent so much of the filming sitting on her rump that it was almost as if her body had forgotten how to move about.  Everything ached, but she felt better than ever.

Just as she collapsed onto the numerous pillows that served as her bed, she heard the tent flaps move behind her.

"Going to bed?" Golden's voice asked, and Crystal looked to see the mare leaning in.

"Of course," Crystal groaned, nuzzling into the pillows despite the stray grains of sand that rubbed against her face.  "Aren't you?"

Golden chuckled almost ominously.  "Well, I was thinking we could celebrate your triumph today."  A large bottle of clear liquid floated into view.  "If you're not too tired and can keep a secret from Dusty..."

Crystal jolted upright.  "Where did you get that?"

"Do you really want to know?"  Golden walked in and settled across from her.  There wasn't a lot of room for the two of them, but they made do.  "Today was a good day."

"I'll drink to that," Crystal teased, her magic overtaking the bottle and pulling out the cork.  "Do you have any glasses?"

Golden's magic snatched the bottle back.  "Nope."  And just like that, she took a swig directly from it.

"Oh."  Crystal blinked.  "Well, I suppose sacrifices must be made in the desert."  Cautiously, she brought the bottle to her lips and sipped from it.

It was entirely different from the wine she was used to.  How did stallions refer to hard cider—sipping cider and drinking cider?  Whatever this liquor was, it was definitely ill-suited for drinking too fast.  The sour bite stung her tongue and felt like fire going down her throat.

"Wh-What is this?" she managed through her coughing.

"I don't know.  The Arabian mare called it arak.  She teased me to take it slowly."  Golden snorted as Crystal passed the bottle to her.  "They think all Equestrians are foals, but they're just biased because they're so big.  Honestly.  I can handle a little alcohol."

With the large gulps Golden took, Crystal could hardly call what she consumed a 'little' alcohol.  How did she even handle it?  Every time it was Crystal's turn to drink, she felt like she was being bucked in the chest.

It was strong, she knew that much.  Strong enough that Crystal started to feel its effects fairly quickly.  Her body felt warm and fuzzy, and giggling became easier.  They weren't even talking for a while, merely glancing at one another and snickering for no obvious reason.

Golden tipped the bottle for another swig, then gestured at Crystal with a vague swing of her hoof.  "So, what's your plan?  We'll enjoy the rest of this vacation now that you've gotten what you wanted, then we go back to Equestria and you'll stress yourself to wits' end all over again?"

"Dunno."  Crystal scrunched up her nose and pawed a hoof at the ornate tapestry rug beneath them.  "I don't want to.  Can we just stay here?"

"Nah, it's too hot and sandy.  I couldn't live here, and I bet you couldn't, either."

Crystal stuck out her tongue.  "Could, too."

"Uh-huh.  And what 'bout your husband?"

There was a long pause before Crystal's ears drooped.  "I… guess I should… go home at some point."  She groaned as she dropped her head down to rest on one of the numerous pillows inside the tent.  "But I don't want to get stressed out again.  Today was the first day I've felt this good in a long time."

Golden hummed, tilting the bottle this way and that to slosh the remaining drink inside.  "So then, done?  You're done?  Just going to give up?"

"No.  Can't."  Crystal nuzzled deeper into the pillow.  "I can't… do nothing."

"Then what?"

For a while, Crystal just sat there, lost between her muddled thoughts and the alcohol-induced buzz.  She suddenly became aware of many things: the sound of the wind pouring in through the tent flaps, a distant yeowl of some desert creature, the discomfort of sand burrowing its way into her coat with every movement…

She jerked her head up.  "I got it."

A sound between a gasp and a snort escaped Golden as she jolted out of a dozing slumber.  "Wha—huh?"

"I don't have to do everything."  She pushed herself up with wobbly legs that felt as though they were made of gelatin.  "I can get other ponies to do things for me."

Golden squinted at her.  "This sounds devious."  She grinned.  "I like it."

"No, no, no."  Crystal wobbled her way over to the tent flaps.  "I'm going to make ponies all over Equestria take care of each other.  Take care of the soldiers.  Take care of ponies like you and me."  She stuck her head out of the tent and hollered off to her right, "You hear that, Equestrians?!  You're gonna take care of 'em!  All of 'em!"

Golden snickered loudly behind a hoof.  "Okay, all right.  There's just one problem with that."

Crystal looked at her over her shoulder.  "What?"

Golden pointed to the left.  "Equestria is that way."

Scoffing at first and then sputtering into laughter, Crystal tumbled over to land back on the pillows.  Golden joined her, falling onto her side and laughing freely.  The bottle hit the rug with a soft thump and a splash of the burning clear liquid inside fell out, but that was all right.  They had certainly already had enough.

As Crystal's laughter settled down, she gazed up at the roof of the tent, imagining the stars beyond it.  "I'll take care of the homefront for sure this time," she whispered, bringing her hoof to her lips, "so don't worry, my love..."