//------------------------------// // Kites // Story: I'm Afraid of Changeling (and other short stories) // by Cold in Gardez //------------------------------// Starlight Glimmer was taking tea with Spike in her room, admiring the cherry blossoms visible in the orchards from her balcony, when Twilight Sparkle’s message arrived. Starlight unrolled it while Spike finished hacking up the tea from his lungs. It was short enough to read at a glance, and she frowned. “What’s wrong?” Spike asked. “What’s it say?” “I’m sorry, take care of this bear. It’s not his fault,” she read. She flipped the paper over, but the back was blank. “That’s it.” “Huh.” Spike scratched his spines. “What bear does she—” A flash of purple light left them both blinking away tears, followed by a loud, mournful roar. Starlight’s bed shifted alarmingly beneath her as some new weight came to rest upon it. An odd stink of dirt and sweat and unwashed fur assaulted her nose. The spots in her eyes cleared, and she found herself face-to-face with Twilight’s bear. Spike made it to the door first. He was a gentledrake and didn’t slam it shut until she’d escaped too. * * * Starlight had built dozens of kites over her lifetime. Most were lost now, abandoned when she left her fillyhood home, incinerated by angry townsponies along with the rest of her belongings in Our Town, or stuck in trees across the breadth of Equestria. Kites were like butterflies; beautiful, but so mortal. There were several kites in her room. The largest, an elaborate, multi-celled box kite, hung from the ceiling. The others – stunts and deltas and traditional rhomboids – were mounted on the walls. At night their dark shapes seemed to float against the shifting crystal like they were flying. It helped soothe her to sleep. Starlight listened from outside as the bear explored her room. Occasionally something would crash to the floor with a clatter. She heard the rattle of its claws against the crystal, many times accompanied by ominous ripping sounds. Her poor kites. She glowered at the door. The click of different claws on crystal caught her ear, and she turned to see Spike arriving with Fluttershy in tow. She landed with a gentle flap of her wings and gave Starlight a nuzzle. “Spike said you had a bear in your room?” “It’s a long story. Can you talk to it?” “I can try.” Fluttershy opened the door and trotted inside. In the brief glimpse before the door closed, Starlight saw scraps of cloth and broken things scattered on the floor. “Should, uh, we have gone in there with her?” Spike asked. “Probably.” Starlight stared at the door. “Spike, I’m upset with Twilight right now.” “Yeah. Her note sounded like she was in a rush, though. And she wouldn't have done this unless it was really important.” Starlight took a long breath and exhaled it slowly. In with air, out with anger. The items in her room were just things, easily replaceable. Even her precious kites. “I know. But she better have a good reason for this.” The door opened, and Fluttershy emerged. Her mane was mussed and her feathers afluff – signs of a tussle? Starlight stepped forward, concerned. “I’m fine. He’s just a little afraid,” Fluttershy said. “He’s a Neighponese Lunar Bear and he says a purple pony sent him here. Would that be you or Twilight?” “Twilight,” Starlight said. “Can we just set him loose?” “Well,” Fluttershy said, “it’s a long walk to Neighpon, so I’d say no. Do you want me to get some food for him?” * * * The bear disappeared in another purple flash, hours later. Only its unwashed stink and the ruins of Starlight’s room remained to remind them of it. Her mattress was in shreds. The dresser was overturned, its contents strewn about like nesting materials. The many-chambered box kite overhead was safe, but the ones on her walls were torn down and destroyed. She gathered their scraps into a little pile and stared at them. “So, uh, can you fix them?” Spike asked. She considered the broken spars and torn panels. “No.” “Oh.” He frowned. “You know, she’ll be really upset when she sees all this. Think it’s her fault.” “Yeah.” He was silent in reply. In with air, out with anger. How many times had she broken things? Broken ponies? And yet, here she was, forgiven for all those times. It was more than she deserved. Well. In with air, and… there was no anger left, she found. Just understanding. “Have to remake them before she gets home, I guess,” Starlight said. “Can I help?” She smiled. “Yeah.”