Twilight reached for the scissors. She grabbed them firmly, watched the blades shine and then violently threw the scissors against their newfound adversary. They pierced through like against a piece of paper.
Mostly because they were piercing paper.
Twilight extracted the letter from the envelope and read it.
“Our dear Twilight, We would be lying if we didn’t tell you how much we miss you. Yet we understand that…”
She stopped and threw the letter away, on the floor, along the other letters that she had opened.
Yes, they had missed her. She missed them too.
Literally.
“Twilight?” Spike voice asked from across the room.
She didn’t respond and just read another letter, only to throw it with the others.
Spike approached in silence, watched Twilight take grasp of another letter and just sat against her desk.
“Is it true?” He asked.
She didn’t respond.
“Say, maybe it’s a false news. I’ve been thinking about it, and it doesn’t really make sense when you really think about it.”
She didn’t respond.
“I mean, you did promise it was going to be fine…” He added.
She stopped opening letters.
“Just tell me Twilight. Is it true?” He asked again.
She didn’t move. She didn’t look at him. She didn’t even faked a smile. She just handed him a piece of paper, with very official markings on it.
“I received it today.” She told him.
He took the piece of paper, but only looked at her.
“We were going there. We were on our way. I had to finish some urgent matters, you know I had to.” She said.
“Are you alright?” Spike asked.
“Are you?” She asked back.
He looked in front of him. There were all the letters on the floor, a few bookshelves against the walls and heavy curtains covering the window. All around the curtains, a bright light that looked grey. Behind the curtains, Ponyville and hundreds of happy ponies celebrating life and its everlasting miracles. Yet Spike wasn’t absolutely certain there actually were ponies beyond the light.
“I’m not sure.” Spike replied.
“I’m not sure either.” Twilight told him too.
She wanted the sun to stop shining so bright. She wanted the sun to run through the sky, eastward, as fast as her imagination could allow it to, again and again, until things were different than they truly were.
“I can’t blame you.” Spike said. “I’ve always supported you. I will continue to.”
He heard Twilight’s response, even if she hadn’t said a word, and nodded:
“I’m sure they are proud of you. I’m sure they are proud of us.”
Still the same response from Twilight, still no words.
“Say, Twilight… I’m hungry, but I don’t feel like eating.”
“I know.” She said.
Spike started scratching the parquet with his right claw. It was somehow calming him.
“How do you think it would have been?” He asked. “You know… if we had made it.”
Twilight had a response to that question. She had thought about that very subject long and hard, analyzed every possible scenario. She had played them again and again like a general would a wargame until every single possibility, no matter how unlikely to happen, has been taken into account. She knew exactly what to say, she knew exactly how it would have been.
She just didn’t want to talk about it. She didn’t want to face it all over again, her parent’s gaze as they passed judgment over her. She did want to apologize again, and again, and even again as many times as she would have the capacity to, even if she knew very well it was in vain.
She could see their eyes looking down on her. Those eyes she knew so well. Those eyes that looked just liked her own.
And then light broke through.
“You were there.” A voice said.
Pinkie Pie closed the door behind her, but the colors she had brought in remained at her side. She hopped toward the alicorn and the dragon.
“Parents always hold their children in their heart. No matter the distance, nothing truly separate a child from her father or her mother. Those are magical bond nothing can truly cut.”
“Words…” Twilight replied.
“And sweets!” Pinkie added, laying out a few Millefeuille in front of her friends. “Don’t worry. They have many layers, but despite the depth, they do taste great in the end!”
Spike and Twilight just looked at the pastries in an awkward silence.
“I’m sorry.” Pinkie said. “I know I can’t help you. I get that sweets taste bitter and that words sound empty. I can’t even say I truly understand.”
Still, she pushed the pastries closer to Twilight and Spike.
“I heard of a pony once.” Pinkie said. “I was so very young, I didn’t know much yet. I had friends from all over already though, and they brought tales from their own friends. They were tales from Cloudsdale, Vanhoover and even Canterlot. And in Canterlot I learned of a filly accompanied by a weird baby dragon. And that mare, despite being the favorite of a princess had extended her hoof once, to help another filly who needed help for a test. She didn’t have to do that. She hadn’t anything to gain for it. But she did it anyway. I don’t care if you’re a princess: when I realized I had met that filly that had helped another pony once, I knew I had met someone special who I wanted to be my friend.”
Pinkie approached Twilight and put her hoof on the tip of her nose.
“That filly was you Twilight.”
She turned to Spike added:
“The weird baby dragon was you Spike”.
Then she continued:
“And yes, you have helped thousands of ponies since then, but would you have helped only that one filly so many years before, I would respect you for that just as much. You gave our world one more smile than it had before, and as far as I know, that is reason enough to be proud of you.”
“Your story doesn’t really make sense Pinkie…” Twilight replied.
“I’m sorry…” Pinkie replied. “I don’t know of many ways to say that I love you.”
She reached out to hug Twilight, but the latter halted her in her course.
“It hurts. It hurts so much.” She explained.
Pinkie reached out again and this time, Twilight let her hug her. Spike soon joined.
“I was so stupid!” Twilight shouted. “I’m such a terrible daughter.”
And Twilight spoke, and spoke without end. Between the tears and the snorting, she said everything she wanted to say and then some more. Every time she thought she was finished, she had another river to let out. Every time her eyes seemed to have dried out, a new source would suddenly appear. She didn’t even control anymore. She had no idea what she was saying, she didn’t care anymore.
Then she opened her eyes again and everything was made of silence. She let her grasp of Pinkie Pie go. She had made a wreck of her mane, that is, more than the usual curly wreck it already was.
“Sorry…” Twilight said.
“It’s okay.” Pinkie replied. “I’m glad you let it out. I hope you feel a bit better.”
Twilight didn’t reply.
“I’m supposed to go now. But I could stay if you want me to.” Pinikie added.
Twilight didn’t reply.
Pinkie waited and, as she didn’t get anything nearing a response, she started to slowly back away. A claw fetched her mane and she saw Spike at her side, hiding his face but firmly attached. They both made their way to the door, in defeat.
And then:
“Pinkie… maybe… maybe you could prepare us some green tea?” Twilight asked from her side of the room.
“Alrighty!” Pinkie happily shouted. “It will be the best tea ever!”
She closed the door behind her and faced the four other ponies who had been waiting at the other side all this time.
“So?” They all asked.
Pinkie looked back and, with a smile, said:
“I hope… no, I know it’s going to be okay.”
And she turned to Spike and added with an even bigger smile:
“I promise!”
THE END