How to Disappear Completely

by shortskirtsandexplosions


Good

The mountain mists formed a second sky, colored in white swaths of starlight that made the heavens dance in a silver sway. Wolves howled in the distance—too loud to be anything but metaphysical. The steep embankments and the ravine below echoed with lonesome life. The reverberation finished as soon as it had started, and the delightful hush of a tranquil world resumed its satin slumber.

Far below, a river wound its way between the edges of a canyon. Narrow rippling waters ferried the moonlight in diamondesque bands, illuminating the fringes of grassy knolls and dark forests. The canopies swayed in a cold wind, and black streaks—squirmy nocturnal things—shifted between branches with untold purpose.

In one direction, the horizon cascaded into humble mountain ridges, kissed along their peaks with a hint of rainclouds. Opposite to that, the sky hung high with stellar poise, riddled with cosmic dust. High above, looming with luster, the moon began its lazy slope towards the edge of the world, drowning out the glitter of night with its pallid fabric.

There, in the middle of everything and nothing, alone and untouched, Flash Sentry sat on a cold mountaintop, gazing into the blissful emptiness.

And he thought of Twilight.

Vinyl Scratch's music had long finished. There was still "juice" in the crystal manashard, Flash figured, but did not bother to restart the tracks. He didn't even remove the headphones. He simply sat there—half deaf—but hardly blind. His eyes traced the stars, the nebulae that hung in the distance, and all of the other galactic phenomena that emulated-but-did-not-entirely-match the beauty that had once graced his teenage life.

Twilight Sparkle was happy. She was quick to emotion. Her mouth was full of wisdom and her heart full of empathy. She strove to do what was best for everyone—willing to sacrifice herself for the common good at the drop of a hat. She was impulsive, but in an adorable way. Affordably clumsy and in all things curious, she was never seen without a smile... without eyes filled with wonderment and yearning.

She was every bit the same as all the ponies Flash Sentry had met since coming here.

And for the first time since Camp Everfree... since the Friendship Games... since the Battle of the Bands and the Fall Formal... Twilight Sparkle was starting to make sense... as did Flash's infinitesimal lot in the fabric of the entire canvas.

He had already given up on her—in a way—but it was moreso a melodramatic exclamation of woe.

Now... for better or for worse... the pieces were coming together, and while the universe was still bleak... it was still a warm universe... for it housed warm souls like Twilight.

And it could house a warm soul like his.

Flash gazed up into the sky. He saw constellations that he could not recognize—but he didn't bother to. Life was as much a mystery back home as it was here. Only—the magic and spontaneity of this place made everything so... refreshing. Like the amniotic fluid of rebirth—or something like it. He couldn't tell. He couldn't pretend to tell. All he could do was sit in one spot and drink it all in.

And in between the inhales and exhales, a bitter breath resurfaced. Somewhere... a mirror lied in wait... a portal that had expelled a foreign contaminant.

Flash didn't belong there.

And yet... as hard as he tried to buck up and face reality...

...he knew he didn't belong back home either. Even if he had become coldly-acquainted with the shadows, dust, and shadows of dust that made up his supposed home. It simply wasn't accelerating him anywhere. It wasn't conducive to growing... to moving... to advancing.

Life was about living, and he didn't seem to know what living felt like... until just a few hours ago.

He didn't know why, but he was smiling. It wasn't quite the reaction he was looking for, but he knew better than to complain. At last, he pulled the headphones off his ears with a lazy hoof. The cold that filled his fuzzy lobes was numbing, but refreshing all the same. He felt as though the world was breathing on him. In just a few seconds, the lips would meet, and he would be at the end of a long, cosmic kiss.

So he closed his eyes and waited for it... even if it would never come... even if he had already reached the pinnacle of human... equine... or cognitive comprehension.

If the best in life had already happened... then what was there to mourn? Good things were good things; it didn't matter if the afterglow lasted a day or seventy years.

And for the first time in as long as Flash could remember, he felt... thankful.

The exhaustion of thinking had taken its toll. Soon, without much effort whatseover, Flash felt himself fall asleep.

He was thankful for that too.