Trixie was still asleep when Evening gathered her things to leave the wagon—but early as it might have been, she felt a strong need for the fresh air. Not to mention how hungry she currently was. Maybe by the time she made it to the marketplace, there’d be a store or two open. Perhaps she could pick up some of those cinnamon dusted nuts Trixie liked so much while she was out as well.
Pausing in the doorway, she deliberated for a moment on whether or not to bother leaving a note, but in the end decided to do so for the principle of it regardless of whether or not Trixie would actually be worried. Fortunately, she always kept a notepad and quill on hoof - it wouldn’t do to be without them when inspiration struck her, after all.
Trixie,
I needed to head out to pick up some things. Don’t wait up for me.
Evening Sparkle
Satisfied with the note she’d penned, Evening moved to stick it to the door for Trixie to see later—until she noticed, as her eyes scanned back over it once more, the error she’d made in her own name. Or was it an error? She supposed many things felt more real than they should in dreams, but somehow she didn’t think this was one such case. Sparkle did feel like it belonged to her somehow, and the slip she’d just made only further cemented the feeling. Evening Sparkle certainly felt more right than Evening Star.
Still—that didn’t mean Trixie would understand it. Scratching out the latter half of the name she’d signed, Evening Sparkle fixed the note quickly and then left it in its proper place, leaving the wagon with her (rather heavy) saddlebags in tow as she always did. She doubted her empty stomach was helping much with her frazzled mind, so the sooner she could find something to eat, the better.
Again, she found herself relatively alone in Ponyville’s streets, though at the very least the few ponies she did see reassured her that there wasn’t another monster situation going on. It was simply a bit early to be out and about. The soft moonlight was a comfort, at the least, filling her with a sense of safety and familiarity that she couldn’t quite explain. Evening headed first towards the area where the cinnamon nut stand was usually set up, though she was beginning to get the feeling that the whole outing was an exercise in pointlessness. The lack of any ponies around meant that the odds of the shopkeepers having stores open was rather low. Nevertheless, she trotted towards the street corner like a pony on a mission, stopping only when she reached the place and was forced to admit with a sigh that the trip had indeed been a bust. There was nopony there.
The gnawing in her stomach was uncomfortable enough that Evening Sparkle couldn’t simply give up hope. Perhaps there would be a few stores open already, if she were lucky.
She was not. Only one store appeared to have any lights on this early—a sweets shop that Evening really didn’t think sounded like a healthy breakfast. Still, she was practically starving, and beggars couldn’t be choosers. Sighing heavily, she pushed her way into the shop and glanced around. The bright and lively decor—which was predominantly a nauseating shade of pink—did not exactly help her mood, much as it might have been intended to lift ponies’ spirits.
Her eyes fell upon the counter, and Evening Sparkle nearly did a double take when she took in the pony there, a dull gray earth pony with a spiritless expression who looked just about as out of place among the vibrant pinks and blues as a Diamond Dog in Abyssinia. “Welcome to Sugarcube Corner,” said the pony in a completely flat voice, face unchanging as she stared at Evening. The pegasus could not help but feel a bit unnerved.
“Um. Yes. Hello,” she said, her gaze drifting down to the pony’s chest, upon which a sticky note poorly masquerading as a name tag had been placed. “Maud,” it read in rather unprofessional-looking bubbly hoofwriting, complete with a heart and a smiley face for punctuation. The writing appeared to be in blue crayon.
“What can I get you?” asked ‘Maud♥😊’, though ‘intoned’ would have been more accurate. The characteristic rise in pitch that came with a question was completely absent—the pony’s voice was as toneless as it had been before.
Right. Food. That was why she was here. Shaking her head in an attempt to clear it, Evening Sparkle let her eyes wander over the display cases, frowning at the number of cupcakes and cakes that filled them. Wasn’t there anything with less than a day’s worth of frosting on it? Finally, she noticed a basket of blueberry muffins on the far right, and figured there was likely no better option. She lifted her head to meet Maud’s gaze again—and was more than a little perplexed to come face to face with that same apathetic look that she had been sporting since Evening Sparkle had entered the store.
“Do you work here?” Evening blurted out before she could stop herself, wondering if perhaps it was the environment that seemed to be boring the earth pony so much.
“No,” Maud replied simply.
There was a beat of silence. “Okay, well,” Evening Sparkle said at last, deciding it didn’t matter whether Maud was a regular employee or not. Curious as she might have been, she was first and foremost starving. “I’d like a muffin, please.” She gestured with one hoof at the blueberry muffins she’d just been looking at.
“Okay,” said Maud. “That’s two bits.”
The two traded bits for food, and after the exchange was done, Evening Sparkle headed for the door with the muffin bag held in her muzzle. Her mouth watered at the scent of it, close to her nose as it was, but she reminded herself she’d be eating soon enough. As she pushed through the doorway, she could barely hear Maud’s dispassionate voice over the sound of the door—”Thanks for coming in.” Except Evening Sparkle also thought that she heard the pony say something else at the end of the statement—something that had sounded like Sparkle.
Eyes wide, she dropped the bag in the doorway and rushed back to the counter. “What did you say?” she gasped.
“Thanks for coming in,” Maud repeated, expression unchanging.
“...Right,” Evening said, feeling like a stone had lodged itself in her chest. “Thank you.” Sighing, she turned to leave once more, picking her bag back up (thankfully the muffin had not fallen out) and not allowing herself a glance backwards.
This… Whatever this was, it was getting to her. She was hearing things now, and suddenly Evening’s certainty of her name wavered. What if she was just imagining how right the name had felt? She had spent a disproportionate amount of time these past few weeks off by herself writing or reading, and often cooped up in that tiny wagon; maybe she was experiencing some kind of pseudo-cabin fever?
Frowning, she made her way over to a vacant bench and sat down to eat her muffin. To her disappointment, somehow the confection did not taste quite as delicious as it had smelled—though that may have been in part because it was a bit smushed (courtesy of her having dropped it.) The taste, sweet and slightly tart those it was, was mellower than she had expected, just slightly off somehow, and on top of that she found her stomach still complaining by the end. Glaring down at her grumbling belly, she told it (not aloud, of course) to quiet down, frustrated at its illogical actions. Maybe she should have bought two muffins.
Hmm. She should probably wait around until the cinnamon nut stand opened. Besides, she could use a distraction from whatever oddities had been plaguing her mind, and writing would do well enough to help with that. Pulling out her notepad, Evening Sparkle sat and wrote for a long while—hours, probably, though she didn’t check—until the streets around her became just loud enough that they threatened to throw off her focus. This was as good a time as any to stop for now, so she stowed the notepad once more and stood up from the bench, preparing to go find the stand again.
Since Evening Sparkle had expected the short trip there to pass without issue, however, the world of course had conspired to prove her wrong. She’d barely made it three steps when a pony careened into her, landing her face-down in the dirt (again) and considerably nettled. What was it with ponies and running into her? This pony was a great deal less considerate than the farmpony had been, not seeming nearly as concerned about her wellbeing or offering to help her up as she got back to her hooves with a huff of irritation.
“Sorry ‘bout that!” said the colorful-maned pegasus, hovering before her with a somewhat sheepish expression on her face. “Got somewhere to be—you know how it is!” Evening opened her mouth to ask why she’d been flying so low, but did not get the chance to say anything, as before she knew it the other mare was turning away from her. Apparently having stuck around only long enough to make sure Evening was not injured, she took off flying once more, and Evening narrowed her eyes as she watched her go. She swore it was like half the ponies in this town hardly noticed her sometimes. It was ridiculous.
Once again, she found herself trying to shake the dirt from her fur after such a run-in with another pony—and this was also one she recognized as being among the princess’s friend group, too. Ugh. She could feel her short mane standing up every which way, ruffled by the fall; Evening was by no stretch of the imagination a vain pony, but she’d been teased by Trixie enough times for her lack of care for her own physical appearance that by now at the very least carrying a hairbrush was something she did. Her coat was largely unsalvageable—she would just have to tag along with Trixie when she went to the spa later that day, as it was time for the showmare’s weekly visit—but her mane was at least something that could be easily brushed. She turned to her saddlebag to retrieve said hairbrush.
As she reached into the bag, however, her hoof brushed against something entirely different - the pocketwatch Trixie had given her for her birthday last year. On a whim, Evening retrieved it and flipped it open to check the time—but was disappointed to see that the hands had stopped moving. It must have broken when she’d been knocked down, either today or yesterday. That was unfortunate.
Sighing, she placed the watch back in the bag and traded it out for her brush, giving her mane a few run-throughs with the thing before she felt satisfied. It wasn’t perfect, but it would do. With that out of the way, Evening Sparkle went quickly to check on the status of the stand, hoping that by this time it might be open.
This time, her luck was better. Two purchases of cinnamon nuts later—she was still quite hungry, after all—Evening found herself drifting towards the center of town, where she had noticed quite a few ponies moving towards earlier. There was some sort of meeting going on in town hall. Though she wasn’t exactly a citizen of Ponyville, curiosity got the better of her, and she slipped into the crowd and peered up at the stage, where Mayor Mare was currently addressing the gathered ponies.
“...and despite the damages caused by the cragadile, the Princess and her friends disposed of it with ease,” the mayor was saying. With a smile, she stepped aside and gestured proudly to six ponies standing behind her on the stage—one of whom was the pegasus who’d collided with Evening earlier. This was where she’d needed to be? Wow, Evening thought, suppressing the urge to roll her eyes. These sorts of meetings seemed to be held every other day lately. She wasn’t even sure why she’d bothered checking what was being discussed.
“The Princess has also generously offered to donate some of her royal funds to cover the damages!” Mayor Mare continued, but Evening was already turning to leave, attention waning. With the frequency of the crises lately, she saw no real point in attending the same meeting day after day, especially when its only purpose seemed to be to praise the princess and her friends.
As she turned, however, she caught sight of something in the sky, rapidly approaching the center of town—and it did not look friendly. Eyes widening, Evening gasped as she recognized the creature as a winged slingtail, a hostile animal that lived in the Dragonlands and caused all sorts of havoc with their huge, spiked tails. This struck her as odd—a slingtail, all the way here in Ponyville? How had that happened?—but she had no time to truly question it, as the beast was headed straight for town hall and no one but Evening had seemed to notice it.
“Look out!” she shouted, pointing with one hoof up at the monster. Was it just her, or were the monster attacks getting even more frequent? There’d just been one yesterday! Around her, she heard cries and gasps as the rest of the ponies took notice of the slingtail—though none of them likely knew it as such. She would have bet she was one of the most well read ponies here. Glancing back towards the stage to see if the ponies there had sprung to action, Evening noticed the fear on the faces of the crowd as she did, as all around her they huddled closer, shrieking and screaming.
Abruptly, something changed in Ponyville—just for a heartbeat, a flicker, but noticeable nonetheless. And then, before Evening could truly consider what she was seeing, the Princess of Friendship’s voice rose above the clamor, and the flicker she had seen was gone—”Don’t worry, everypony! We’ll handle this!” Smiling blithely, the princess flew at the threat, the three friends she had who were incapable of flight carried alongside her with her magic and the other two close behind on their own wings.
Evening Sparkle turned and galloped back towards home, not fearing the monster in the sky but instead something else entirely. For the briefest of moments, as panic had seized the crowd in Ponyville, the idyllic little town had suddenly changed. The color had gone out of the world around the gathered ponies, leaving only blacks and grays and long, dark shadows surrounding them. Worst of all, though the flicker had been brief, she was certain she had seen the glint of eyes out in the darkness.
This time, Evening did not think she was imagining it. She wished she had been.