Ponyville is nothing if not resilient. Eternal Night, while horrific in concept alone, doesn’t also grant ponies an eternal sick day from work it seems. It's the only explanation I have for why the entire town is already back to business after only three days. Shops are open, errands are being run, children are cautiously out playing in the darkness; beyond the sudden lantern obsession and the increased royal guard presence, one would be hard pressed to tell that anything was out of the ordinary. The crisis has come and is here to stay; no point in crying over spilled milk, I suppose. Everypony has had their panic attacks… mourned… and now have to get on with their lives full of groceries, summer camps, and the latest in sports.
As I trudge through the illuminated marketplace, absentmindedly listening to just how normal the conversations sound, I find myself unable to feel anything towards how messed up this whole situation is. Their Prince is gone, as well as their sun, but hey; somepony has to put food on the table. Is this just how things are going to be now? Is this just life? How will we stay warm? How will we grow food? Where is The Nightterror now? Will he be merciful to us? I know that these are the questions floating through everponies’ heads right now; I know that the same fear Nebula instilled in us so long ago still lingers in each of our hearts…
… But I’m finding it hard to really care right now.
My mind is clouded and my emotions numb as my feet move without my input and continue to carry me towards my destination.
To Sweet Apple Acres.
_______________________________
Knock knock knock
The sound of old wood creaking and bending can be heard inside the building in front of me, as somepony on the other side of the door trots through the old farmhouse. The noise stops once the occupant reaches the front of the dwelling and slowly opens the door for me.
“Eeyu-” begins to ask Red Gala as she lifts her head to look at her visitor. The massive pony’s words stop as she sees only empty air, but she quickly regains them as she looks downwards and spots me by her front hooves. “Barb?” she asks, the concern highly evident in her voice.
I stare back up at her.
“... Can I come in?” I ask after a moment, once a rogue icy breeze helps remind me where I am.
Red Gala, though clearly still worried for me, steps aside and holds the door open. “E… eeyup,” she replies simply.
Muttering a quick thanks, I enter the home and take in the rustic sights. It’s shaped like a barn on the outside, but inside is anything but. Walls are filled with framed pictures, couches are lined with hoofstiched cloths, and the sheer history of this building can be seen in every nick and dent and scratch. This place is everything the Library is not; this place is a home.
Home…
… I find myself being ushered towards a couch by the kindly prodding of a big red hoof. Said hoof reaches down below my tail and gently aids me in getting up on top of the seat’s comfy green cushions. Red Gala gives me a small smile once I’m fully situated, and then slowly retreats to the next room before I can give her thanks again. I hear a water faucet being turned on, and a moment later I can also hear the tell tale signs of a teakettle settling. As I patiently wait, I remain silent so that I can better listen to all the other noises this house is producing. Hoof steps can be heard all over, mostly centered in the back towards the barn portion of this dwelling. That must be where the rest of the extended apple family is hanging out. Makes sense. I didn’t see anypony tending to the pitch black fields on my way in. I can hear elderly snoring as well; Grampa Smith must be asleep in the room right above me. Boy is he loud.
So loud, in fact, that I didn’t hear Red Gala’s noisy trotting as she re enters the room. It’s only when a cup of steaming hot tea was offered to me did I notice her return.
“Thank you,” I state as I gratefully accept the drink with my claws and sip it.
The couch sinks a little as my host mare lowers herself down on to it. With my claws I cover my tea so as not to spill any of it, at least until my friend can get situated. Once she’s seated, she replies with a “Eeyup” before taking off the yoke around her neck and setting it down on the coffee table. With that task is complete, she starts taking rewarding swigs from her own teacup that result in tiny, adorable little hums of approval.
Together, the two of us sit silently as we sip our tea and simply… be. I’m not being asked anything, nopony is barging in to interrupt us; with the exception of the other ponies in the house everything is nice and quiet.
It’s lovely.
It’s just what I needed.
It’s…
… not meant to be.
“You’re wondering why I’m here,” I ask, though it’s not really a question. More of a statement for my less talkative friend’s benefit.
“... Eeyup,” Red Gala answers after a brief pause. Maybe she’s debating on whether or not to pry, but it’s certainly within her right.
Gulping a large amount of the tea (which is quite delicious and as you might have guessed apple-infused) to calm myself, I stare into what little remains in my cup and gather my thoughts.
“... The trains to Canterlot are being restricted to military usage only right now, Red,” is what I choose to start with as I explain myself. I find it easier for the words to come as I stare into my reflection in the teacup, so I forgo looking into Red Gala’s eyes and simply continue as is. “And none of the balloons or pegasus chariots are allowed to depart right now as well. I-I’m stuck here in Ponyville...”
Red Gala starts to inhale, ready to comment, but I choose to ignore her as the words start rushing out of me faster.
“I can’t get a scroll out to Gleaming Shield either,” I go on, uncaring if she only vaguely knew who that is from my earlier stories. “S-she must be casting her shield spells in Canterlot. I used up my one emergency scroll seal for her and now I can’t write to her at all! And the ones for Solaris are just getting returned back to me!”
It feels as though my heart is slowly being crushed inside my chest.
“I-I don’t have anywhere else to go…”
As the helplessness of it all sinks in.
“Sweepy Belle’s family wanted nothing to do with a d-dragon…”
As my options dwindle to nothing.
“We didn’t even know w-where Scooteroll lives…”
As… as…
Red Gala places a hoof on my shoulder. Shakily I turn my head and look up into her big, green, judgeless eyes.
“Barb?” she finally asks me plainly, as is her style. “Where’s that fella that came to town with you?” Straight and to the point. “Where’s… Dusk?”
And that was it.
That was the plunger push that caused the dam to blow right the hell up.
“GONE!!” I sob loudly, unable to hold my grief back any longer. I bury my face in her chest as I grossly hiccup. “And it’s a-all my f-f-fault!!”
My mind shuts down after this, and the next thing I know a large amount of time has passed and my nose feels dry and raw. Through puffy eyes I watch as Red Gala, having left the couch earlier without me noticing, returns to the room with the teakettle in her teeth. With a tilt of her head she refills a cup that had been placed on the coffee table. I can only assume it’s mine, as I can’t recall where it had wandered off to in the… half hour, according to the clock on the wall… where my higher brain functions decided to check out.
“Thank you,” I utter softly for the third time since I’ve arrived. “... Sorry…”
“Nnope,” states the mare after refilling her own cup. “Nothin’ to be sorry about, and nothin’ to blame yourself for. You cry all you wan-”
“Is Barb okay, Big Sis?”
Weakly I look upwards towards the source of the third voice, and spot Apple Buck’s little worried face peeking out from the top of the staircase.
Turning to address her youngest brother, Red Gala puts on a braver front then I and states, “Eeyup.” For good measure she adds, “Girl talk,” in the hopes of scaring him off.
It seems to work, as the young colt’s ears droop and he takes a step backwards towards the upstairs.
“O-okay,” he answers, clearly still concerned but not wanting to push things further. Such a sweetheart. “... Can you please tuck me in when your done, Red?”
“Eeyup.”
“T-thanks.”
Tiny retreating hoofbeats follow the school age earth pony as he, I assume, heads towards his bedroom for the night… well the continued night. Day four is fast approaching...
With a sigh, the remaining pony brings her attention back to me. “Be right back,” she says as she begins to trot upstairs herself. Whether to further assure me that her departure was necessary, or to stealthily protect Apple Buck’s pride, Red Gala tacks on that, “He’s been too scared to go to sleep on his own since that no good Nightterror fella zapped him and since Applejack’s… yeah.”
“I understand,” I reply shortly. “Been having troubles sleeping myself.”
Red Gala doesn’t say anything as she nods her head in understanding and resumes heading up above. In her absence I drink my tea and use a tissue to attempt to make myself more presentable. Crying isn’t going to solve anything, but it feels like the only thing I have left. Four days… Dusk is probably… p-probably dea-
I force my mind shut yet again as I take a strong sip of my drink. I listen to the ambient sounds of the apple household once more as I wait. There’s still murmurs and trotting noises from the back of the building, and Grandpa is still snoring. A few minutes pass and everything remains mostly the sam-
Wait, no, that’s a lie. I can hear a sort of lullaby being sung upstairs by a deep, yet clearly feminine voice. Is that Red Gala? Though I can’t make out words, the melody and instruments can be heard clearly through the wood. I think I’m hearing a flute, and maybe a bell… it’s nice.
… Whether the flute and bells are real is anyone’s guess. An oddity about ponies that I don’t think I’ve ever been able to write down and explain is that their magic, regardless of race, is able to affect all five senses. You can see it, you can feel it, you can hear it, you can surprisingly taste it, and yes you can smell it as well. Conjured food allows one to taste it in all it’s horrid glory, and all spells usually leave behind a variant on a plastic like odor. Hearing magic is beautiful though, and it’s been described to me as a feeling from deep within a pony’s soul taking over their lips and enhancing every little thing they do. As they sing, the magic within their body sings too and can produce the instrumental sounds I’m hearing now. This phenomenon doesn’t make everypony amazing at singing, and starting unprompted can be considered rude, but it can allow them to easily sing harmoniously with others without ever having to learn the song.
In summation; the ponies really do sing the songs from the show, and their arcane bodies produce the music. Instruments were invented in this world to enhance and better control this instinctual power, which is insane to think about. It’s an insane concept to think about all together, and it’s definitely a phenomenon that can only happen here in the magical land of Equestria…
… but Equestria isn’t feeling that magical to me anymore.
After a time the music from up above stops, and the house shakes as Red Gala tries her best to slink away back to the living room. “Thanks for lettin’ me take care of that,” she speaks in a whisper, trying to let her brother sleep.
“You’ve already done enough for me, Red,” I whisper back with cheeks, well, red. “More than enough, actually… Thanks for listening.”
“Eeyup,” she smiles back. “It’s what friends do, Barb. If you need a place to sleep, we ain’t got a lot of space left... but you can certainly sleep with me tonight.”
“Red, I can-”
But she raises a hoof in objection to my protests.
“Ah insist. You got caught up in that whole dream trap nonsense too, right?” Her expression shifts to one full of warmth as she adds, “You’ll be safe with me tonight, little buddy. Hehe, you could even call it a sleepover if it makes you feel better about it,” she chuckles.
While I’m thoroughly touched by the offer, a question dawns on me from this.
“How did you know?” I inquire, referring to the mention of the dream trap.
“Ah was in Town Hall that day too,” she replies as she sits back down, again causing the couch to shake. “In the back with Gramps. That Dusk fella was sure shouting up quite a storm about you at Nightterror Nebula.”
I blink at this, taken aback. “H-he was? What did he say?”
Her coat almost made it impossible to tell, but I think Red Gala is blushing. “L-let’s just say he was sayin’ things inappropriate to talk about it polite company and leave it at that.”
That’s… actually kinda touching... in a twisted sort of way.
“There’s another else he said though, Barb, that I’d like to ask you about if that’s okay.”
Taken aback, I stare at my big red friend and try to fathom what it is she could be talking about.
“G-go right ahead, Red,” I offer to her despite not knowing where this is heading. “It’s the least I can do for you.”
With a nod, Red Gala first pauses to gather her thoughts before she next asks me her question.
“How... did Dusk know that that pony was the real Nightterror Nebula?”
My heart skips a beat.
This…
…
… This is just what I needed.
My eyes wander to the purse at my side.
Red Gala continues, taking no note of my reaction as she instead stares out at her yoke on the coffee table. Maybe the sight of it, and all it personally represents, is helping her concentrate… “He was the only one in that room that called that pony by his name. Not even the Mayor had any guesses!”
“He…” I begin formulating my thoughts, eyes zooming back to my host. “... Was researching an old prophecy before we got here. He thought that it spoke about the Man in the Moon escaping during the Summer Sun Celebration.”
“Did he tell the Prince about it?”
I bobble my head yes. “He did… He didn’t believe him though.”
“... But he was right about it... right?”
Again I nod my head yes. “I don’t think we can really deny that fact now, Red.”
The room grows quiet.
… I stealthily move my purse into my lap in this time.
I…
…
I... didn’t come here just to cry.
I didn’t come here just to give up.
… I-I didn’t come here with a solid plan, but I did come here with the makings of one.
I came here to recuperate.
I came here to sort out my mind.
I came here,
“After you fell asleep, Barb, ah saw him run off to the library…”
because despite how little we’ve gotten to know each other thus far,
“... and Applejack followed him.”
I know a woman willing to do anything for her family when I see one.
“Do you know where my brother is, Barbara?” rumbles Red Gala lowly, her eyes focused and burning with righteous fury. She's knows I'm hiding information now. My revealing that Dusk is missing too, and the honest blaming of myself over it, were the final puzzle pieces this mare needed to complete the picture I was trying to paint for her.
Applejack is gone.
Her precious hearty brother.
One who was last seen following Dusk Shine into the great unknown...
My precious nerdy bookworm.
It doesn't take a rocket scientist to see that we're in the same boat, her and I. All my actions thus far were to erase the difference in age, species, and backgrounds that separate us… and to make this simple fact a hundred times more clear.
To save our families, we need to work together.
Thusly then, with eyes equally as determined appearing as her own, my response to Red Gala’s loaded question is to smile sadly, reach into my purse,
Flop!
and to lay a single book on the coffee table.
A book titled The Elements of Harmony: A Reference Guide.
“I might have an inkling, Red.”