EIGHT
The bed Twilight woke in was not her own, nor was she alone.
Her head felt like led, her eyes like sandpaper. She squinted against the glare of the red sun as it bled through a window on her left, presenting her with a much unappreciated consciousness.
The room was small, she realised. Not quite cosy, not quite claustrophobic. The room was bare aside from the bed she was laid on and an identical one two feet to her right. The sheets were a pale yellow and smelt of mildew. There was an old wardrobe in front of her and a door directly to its right. It was closed.
There had been somepony asleep next to her at some point, she was sure. She recalled waking in the middle of the ‘night’, desperate to write in her journal for a reason she now couldn’t remember. She’d smelt something sweet next to her then, like apple spice. The smell lingered even now, a constant reminder on the single ruffled pillow by her side.
Applejack.
The bed next to her was occupied. Pinkie Pie lay spread eagle at the bottom of the bed, loose yellow sheets dangling precariously from her hind leg. Rarity was tucked in at the top, flat on her back. Her mouth hung open slightly, soft snores escaping her lips.
Twilight relaxed at the sight of them. It was always reassuring to wake up some time between everyone else. Not the first, not the last, it dismissed any awkwardness that the following morning might bring. Namely, talking to strangers.
Twilight had no doubt she would have to deal with that anyway.
She didn’t remember much of the day before, though she thought that for the best. Any time she tried to think about Twinkle Shine or the husk that had stood over her, her mind went blank, fading out to soothing static. Honestly, Twilight could cope with that particular memory’s erasure.
She shuffled her wings under the sheets, kicking them from her body. She supposed she wouldn’t be getting any more sleep, not now, and she was beginning to feel hungry.
She trotted over to the small wardrobe, finding her saddlebags inside. With a flash of her horn, she brought an apple to her lips, savouring every bite. The bittersweet taste diminished enough of her hunger that she began to question where Applejack had gone. She glanced to the closed door.
Where were they? The room could have easily belonged to somepony’s house, but could have equally been a shoddy hotel. She knew they were in Baltimare, but that was just about where her memory ran dry. She could remember hushed voices, Pinkie’s hoof on her back ushering her inside. Rarity had thrown an extra shawl over Twilight’s back, covering her wings from view. Another voice, one idly familiar, had whispered something she hadn’t heard. Foggy Night, perhaps?
Twilight shouldered the door open, careful not to wake her friends.
Light from a window on the far wall caught her right in the eyes yet again. Twilight moaned softly, rubbing her head. What was it about falling asleep in a fit of tears that gave you a headache worse than a hangover come morning? A part of her mind wanted to stage a full scale experiment, the rest of her was far too exhausted to care.
The walls were beige and bare of pictures, nothing like the barn in Appleloosa. She couldn’t see any happy families smiling at her; there were no details to allude to a life at all.
The downstairs hallway led to three other doorways. Only one was open, a small living space where Foggy Night was sat, a mug of something steaming in her hooves.
“Ah can’t thank yer enough fer helpin’ us here,” Applejack’s voice said from somewhere inside. Twilight felt immediate relief.
Foggy nodded solemnly. “Least I could do,” she grunted. “You pulled me together. If you guys hadn’t showed up when you did, I doubt I wouldda had the guts to come back here at all.”
Twilight bit her lip, remembering the state she’d found the pegasus in.
“Ah’m sure nopony here wouldda judged yer,” Applejack said quietly. She paused; a slurp pierced the silence that followed.
Foggy grimaced. “You’d be surprised. Folks here aren’t the forgiving type. ‘Specially not with the only pegasus still on the ground.” She sighed. “You shouldda heard the things they said when I first showed up.”
“You ain’t from here?”
“Nope.” Foggy smiled ruefully. “I was born in Cloudsdale, worked in the weather factory half my life. ‘Bout the same time the war began I got in an accident there, busted my wing up so bad I was grounded for months.” She winced. “By the time I was even close to healed, recruitment there had stopped; the war was too far gone for them to care about one pegasus left recuperating with their family in Baltimare.”
“Yer family?”
“Gone.”
“Ah’m sorry.”
“It’s cool.” Foggy shrugged. “Most ponies here don’t have much family anymore. There’s so many of us though, we don’t get ‘round to discussing it. We just work on the farms, cultivate, eat and sleep.” Foggy nearly laughed. “That pink friend of yours was the first pony I’ve seen smile here in years.”
“That’s no way to live,” Applejack muttered.
Foggy nodded thoughtfully. “Good way not to die, though.”
Twilight took that as her moment to enter. Foggy stiffened when she saw her, eyes darting out to the hallway. “Anyone else awake?” she asked in means of greeting.
Twilight shook her head. “Pinkie and Rarity are still asleep.”
“No one else?”
Twilight frowned. “How many are there?”
Applejack chuckled. “This here’s a refuge fer travellers comin’ and goin’ from Baltimare. They got a strict rule that nopony who ain’t a resident can stay for more than two days.”
Twilight’s jaw dropped. “That’s a little rude.”
Foggy cracked a smile. “So’s showing up as four extra mouths to feed.”
Twilight shuffled her wings awkwardly. “We brought our own,” she muttered.
“Folks here don’t care about that, I’m afraid,” Foggy said with a dismissive hoof. “Can I get you something to drink? We got coffee beans in storage, not many ponies drink the stuff so it’s pretty much at your disposal.”
Twilight nodded. “Sure.” At the moment, she’d take anything caffeinated to wake her up from this infinite nightmare. She briefly wondered whether drinking enough caffeine could theoretically wake her up from reality itself. Would it be worth it to try?
As Twilight came to sit down on one of the worn sofas, Applejack nodded to her back. “Yer got yah shawl with yah?”
Twilight nodded, frowning. “Why?”
Applejack sighed tiredly, taking another sip of her coffee. “Folks back in Appleloosa might’ve accepted you with open hooves, but ponies here, well, let’s jus’ say they took the princesses leavin’ a might harder than most.”
“What are you saying?”
Applejack’s expression hardened. “Ah’m sayin’ they could get riled up seein’ a princess back like this. Might start thinkin’ you have all the answers. Or worse. They might want somepony ter blame this on.”
Twilight swallowed thickly. She rubbed her forehead with her hoof. “You’re right. Oh, Celestia, I’m so stupid. I should have thought of that.”
“Ain’t your fault.”
Twilight grimaced. “Sure.” She stood up and headed back for her shawl.
By the time Twilight had collected her shawl, Foggy had returned with her drink. A few minutes later a bleary-eyed Rarity appeared in the hallway, looking for all intents and purposes like a mare to be reckoned with. She took a mug of coffee with unflinching silence, only joining in with the conversation once she was on her second cup.
Twilight wasn’t sure how many mugs Pinkie had helped herself to, but by the time she’d appeared from the kitchen, she was practically buzzing.
“This place is so weird,” Pinkie mused, glancing out the window. “Nopony says anything. I bumped into three ponies in the kitchen, none of them returned my hellos, howdys or how-ya-doin’s.” She pouted.
“It’s a different world out here,” Rarity added in agreement. “It rather reminds me of certain areas in Manehattan.”
Applejack nodded. “Ah guess we never realised much jus’ tradin’ with the locals.”
Foggy placed her cup on the stained table in front of her. She flexed her wing absentmindedly. “When you work so hard to stay alive, it starts to affect your conversation skills.” She shrugged. “We don’t get many attacks here fortunately, but we barely leave the compound past a certain way. That’s when you start gettin’ disappearances.” She lowered her head, a swirl of blue mane falling in front of her face. “Like Twinkle.”
“That wasn’t your fault,” Twilight said resolutely. She took another sip of her coffee. After the second cup, she’d begun to feel alive again; even her headache had become an easily dismissible drone in her skull. “I’ve lost ponies out there too. In fact, one of my friends died saving my life.” Even now, speaking of Lyra felt wrong, but Twilight continued despite herself. “I wanted to do something to help, but I couldn’t. And when I saw Twinkle with that husk…”
“Now now, there was nothin’ yer couldda done,” Applejack reminded.
Rarity nodded. “She’s right, darling. It was an unfortunate circumstance, but that creature had already taken her magic. Even if she had been saved, she would have been brain-dead at best.” She winced when she realised Foggy’s expression. “Apologies, I didn’t mean to come over quite as harshly as that.”
“It’s fine,” Foggy said softly. “I know. Of course I know. But it doesn’t stop me from feeling like I could have done more.” Her wings flared. “I’m the only pegasus Baltimare’s ever met since the war, and I didn’t even try to fly after that borg.”
“Shock is a terrible thing,” Twilight said understandingly. Although her memories were fuzzy, she could recall the emptiness she’d felt in her chest, the way her legs had felt weightless and unreal beneath her as she’d watched Twinkle Shine lying on the ground.
“At any rate,” Applejack said. “We should be headin’ off soon, unless yer want us stickin’ ‘round ‘til word spreads ‘bout Twinkle.”
Foggy shook her head. “I took you in through the south gate. The community here is so wide-spread, chances are some ponies here didn’t even know her name. Won’t stop them pretending they care in some way, just to have something to complain about, but, what can you do?” She laughed bitterly. “I need to check in at the farm anyway before they give my rations away to somepony more time sensitive.” She rolled her eyes. “I swear, it’s worse than the weather factory.”
Applejack nodded. “We know the way outta town.”
Foggy smiled. “It was nice meeting you.” Her gaze lingered on Twilight for a beat longer than everyone else. “All of you.”
Twilight nodded. “I’m sorry I couldn’t do more for her.”
Foggy shrugged. “You did more than anypony else would have. Hey, if you ever find yourself in Baltimare again needing a place to stay, hit this place up. Say Foggy sent you. I’ve got some friends here who’ll keep you safe if they know you did me a solid.” She glanced at Twilight’s poorly hidden wings. “They’re super discreet.”
Twilight smiled. “Thank you. That’s very kind.”
“It’s what we should be doing,” Foggy said, glaring towards the window like she was silently cursing her whole town. “Maybe one day, somepony else will see that.”
“It only takes one,” Pinkie piped up. “You’d be surprised how quickly kindness grows, you just gotta plant it first.”
The cart had been parked on the street just around the corner of the building. As Twilight and her friends trotted out to collect it, she realised for the first time just how different Baltimare looked.
The buildings were decrepit, old and in some places, wholly broken. Bricks were crumbling to dust in places, woodwork had come undone. The buildings that stood and continued to house life were duller, somehow. The paint had begun to peel away, leaving claw-like marks on the surface. The red sun stood high in the sky as always, giving an unsettling glow to everything it touched. If Twilight squinted, it seemed to her as though the thatch roofs themselves had been set ablaze.
Despite what Foggy had said, the streets gave no impression of the vast amount of ponies that lived there. Most of them must have already been working, but Twilight still spotted a few, hurriedly galloping down the streets or trotting in pairs, their exhaustion plainly visible in their eyes. She watched a few foals running to keep up with their parents, already breadwinners at such a young age.
Applejack was right, this was no way to live. Despite the conditions being no better in Appleloosa, ponies worked together there. They were a community, they helped each other, leant a hoof when needed. They even entertained each other. Pinkie threw small parties, Sweetie Belle sang in the orchards on warm dusty ‘nights’. They drank cider, they laughed.
Here, it looked as though most ponies had forgotten what it was like to feel happiness of any kind.
Twilight only hoped that Foggy and her friends could spread a bit of joy somehow. She thought back to her Palace in Ponyville, the intrinsic mystical map that guided her friends to towns in need of friendship. She wondered how many places the Elements would have been needed if the map still worked. Would their cutie marks ever stop glowing? Would their work ever be complete?
She followed Applejack around the corner almost in a trance. She could see her friends talking amongst each other, and she gave the illusion that she was listening by nodding her head when it seemed necessary, but she was just as much caught in her own world.
Then a hoof caught her shoulder.
Twilight gasped, turning her head quickly to the source.
A middle-aged mare with a frayed yellow mane and brown fur stared at her with wide, helpless eyes. “I was right,” she gasped out, turning her gaze towards a stallion just a few steps behind her. “Dust, I was right.”
“Um,” Twilight said, looking nervously for her friends.
The mare grabbed her with both hooves now. “Princess Twilight Sparkle… I knew it had to be you. I remember you… from before the war… you… you’ve returned to us.”
“I…”
“Where are they?” the mare asked wildly. “What’s happened? Are the Princesses returning for us? Do they know how to fix this?”
“Let it go, Caramel,” the stallion said tiredly. He had a greying moustache and a similar dead-eyed expression to the rest of the community. “She doesn’t know anythin’.”
“Where are they?” Caramel hissed.
“I don’t know!” Twilight said desperately, trying to remove the mare’s hooves from her shoulders. “I… I don’t know anything, I’m sorry.”
“I don’t believe you!”
“Please, you’re hurting me.”
“That’s enough!” Applejack said, butting between the mare and Twilight. Caramel let go, her breathing stiff, her eyes unnervingly wide.
“You ain’t gonna get your answers hurtin’ mah friend like that,” Applejack scolded.
“Yeah!” Pinkie said angrily, hopping over. “What’s your deal lady?”
Caramel huffed. “How can you believe her? She’s a Princess of Equestria and you expect me to believe that she doesn’t know where the rest of her kind have gone?”
“My kind?”
“Alicorns!” Caramel hissed. “You creatures thought yourselves so much better than us, didn’t you? Immortals just like that filthy Discord! We trusted you!”
Caramel tried to take a step forward, but Applejack stopped her. Rarity and Pinkie glared from the side lines.
Caramel’s lips trembled. “You abandoned us, and now that you’re back you won’t even tell us what to do. You liars!”
This time when Caramel tried to dart forward, the stallion named ‘Dust’ grabbed her, pulling her away with visible effort.
“Come now,” Dust said. “Settle down.”
“I won’t forget this!” Caramel growled. “I won’t!”
Twilight stared in silence. She didn’t have anything to say, there wasn’t anything she could say. She didn’t know where Celestia was, or Luna or Cadence or even her brother. She didn’t even really know what had become of herself in the last ten years. She could have lied to the mare, told her something pleasant, that they were working on a way to fix things, but when she tried to speak, no words were forthcoming. It was like her tongue had tied itself into a perfect knot. She could only absorb the truth that this mare believed, the truth that she had been taught from a decade of neglect from the royalty that she had put her faith into.
If Twilight had been like her, like any of them, wouldn’t she have done the same?
When she finally found her voice, all she could say was, “I’m so sorry.”
The mare snorted. “Don’t even bother.”
Then she spat at the ground by Twilight’s hooves before Dust finally managed to pull her away. He gave Twilight an apologetic look, speaking under his breath to Caramel as they trotted further into the city.
Twilight blinked in a daze. This was what ponies thought of her now. Her kind. Like she wasn’t equus at all, but some kind of abomination. An immortal god walking amongst mortals. A species who thought themselves too powerful to care for the lives of ponykind. A species who abandoned them when things became too much to bear.
Even as they left town on the cart, Twilight still held that thought closely to her chest. It wasn’t so hard to believe, after all. Why else would Celestia leave? What else explained the bubble of magic around pony civilisation, the one that could only be held stable by Alicorn magic? What else explained any of this?
As Twilight watched Baltimare fade into the distance, she imagined that those thatch roofs really had caught on fire. She imagined the town burning. She imagined her mentor, the Princess of the sun itself, turning a blind eye on them as the very star she controlled destroyed their civilisation. Twilight looked away then, back into the haze of wasteland that stretched on seemingly forever. Back to the path they would be walking until they came across Emerald Pass.
Back to their inescapable reality.
The Journal of Princess Twilight Sparkle
Entry #8 - Moving Forward
I met a mare today that blamed me for everything that has happened. She rejected me, told me that I was no better than Discord. A spirit of chaos. A pointless immortal.
Discord may have reformed from the time I remember, but I still understand her point. Whatever I was doing ten years ago, I allowed myself to be frozen in that crystal. I allowed this world to turn to dust.
Whatever happened to the Princesses, I have to assume that they survived. There is no other way to explain the magical bubble that keeps us all trapped in our own sickness. But, if they did survive, and they’re out there on the other side somewhere… then I know that they must have abandoned us. If in ten years they never came back, never tried to help the ponies here that have had to fight so hard every day to remain alive… what else can I assume?
Perhaps the world is just as torn on the other side. If the sun really fell from Celestia’s control – and the moon from Luna’s – then I can’t hold hope that life outside this dome could really be any better. I can see the sky from here, but no stars; something tells me that if I went to the edge of the dome, I’d see a blurred version of reality. Another untruth. I don’t know what’s happening out there, but even if the Princesses knew nothing of our fate, it still means that they are in control of it.
We are alone here. We have been abandoned. And I am part of that problem.
I’m a Princess to these people, but my time has passed. If I had been here since the beginning, maybe I could have helped, but there’s too much hatred surrounding the royal name for my ‘help’ to come of any use. The only thing that will bring society together now is the magic of friendship, but when the dead walk and a very different kind of magic lurks - the magic of science and biology, of sickness and blood – I don’t know if ours can win any longer.
It’s been ten years.
I can never forget that. Ten years that I never lived. Ten years I never saw. Ten years I could have helped. Locked away.
My instincts want to take me to Canterlot still. I don’t care what I find there, but hearing what Caramel had to say has sealed my decision for me. If I want to find out what happened, I know I can find those answers in Canterlot. It’s where all of this started. It’s where the Princesses vanished. It’s where I vanished.
Soon we’ll be in Emerald Pass. Soon we’ll have made the trade with the ponies there. Afterwards, I’ll finally know if I have my friends' support. I’m not sure if I will anymore, the years have been hard on them and Canterlot has become a living ghost story, one haunted by mechanical spirits. But no matter their answer, I know mine already. I will be going to Canterlot. Alone or together it doesn’t matter. I know what I have to do.