//------------------------------//
// IV.II - That Sinking Feeling 
// Story: The Broken Bond 
// by TheApexSovereign 
//------------------------------//

"Tw-Spike?" 

Not in her study. Great! More walking.

"Spike!" 

Not in the kitchen, either. She'd searched five halls and still nothing! Were they just ignoring her?

"Guys?!" 

Not even in the dining room. This just wasn't normal. 

Stampeding through the foyer's only doorway, suffocating on desperate hope, Starlight could only pray to Equestria's mother that she could find at least a pair of cutie marks encircling a projection upon the Map. "Anypony!?" Starlight gasped for breath, the tail-end of her cry echoing with that pitiful lurch in the confines of the Map Room. 

That stupid map, a smooth slab of crystal, silent and judgemental. "You can't give a mare some kind of a hint?" she snapped. "I have to scrounge the place looking for them myself?" 

A beat of silence, and Starlight realized she was interrogating a hunk of magic crystal.

What exactly was she expecting anyway? It's not like the thing had some latent power to carry her voice through the twisting depths of this insanely huge castle. She was expected to walk, and the Map didn't even care. This wasn't enough of a 'Friendship Problem' for the stupid thing. 

"You're connected to every part in Equestria, even her past," Starlight stomped towards it, "yet you can't just point me in the direction of your master?!" She smacked the thing, a sharp clack ringing her ears. 

A cool spray startlingly dashed across her face. Starlight scrubbed muzzle, the dampness emphasizing this ever-drafty room. 

Starlight blinked, only now realizing water beaded the map's surface like a pox. Did somepony just spill a glass of water and forgot to clean up? That didn't sound like Twilight, or Spike, and she'd been with Fizzlepop all morning.

She shook her head, none of this mattered. What mattered was Starlight actually beat up a magical artifact, as if it had a reason for choosing not to help her. Better you than anypony else, was a cold comfort as Starlight collapsed into the throne closest to her flank: Rarity's by a quick observation around the other six. 

Panting still, she massaged an irksome tingle between the eyes. It was just anger getting the best of her again, nothing more; this wasn't some cosmic prank to piss her off or anything. Even if the Cutie Map had some latent power to broadcast her cries throughout the castle (and it truly had no reason to help her with this mess if it did), Starlight's words wouldn't reach a corridor that her hooves hadn't already. 

And it's not like Starlight actually believed her friends were willfully ignoring her calls. They wouldn't do that! Unless, of course, they were giving her the silent treatment as punishment, which made sense. Maybe her cries got so aggravating, they up and left altogether without leaving so much as a note! Ponies only did that so their loved ones wouldn't worry; with Starlight's behavior, it'd be no surprised if they thought she didn't give a flying feather about them. 

All because I felt bad about myself.

A shake of the head brought her back to reality. Twilight and Spike might be mad, but they wouldn't do something like that to Starlight. Of course not! It was time to get a grip and think rationally again; could they have gone to Sugarcube Corner for another friendship meeting? If she were Twilight, she'd not want somepony currently off-her-rocker like Starlight Glimmer within potential earshot of a secret, but well-intentioned, meeting concerning her. 

And if she were being honest with herself (for once in her irrational mind), Starlight would maybe-likely get the wrong impression hearing her name whispered behind closed doors. Just a little, tiny misunderstanding though. Nothing to lose her head over, of course! Starlight was a different mare who realized her mistakes and moved past them. 

Now if only fate would stop jerking her around. Then, she could actually apologize to Twilight and put all this ugliness behind them. Restore some sense of normalcy in their lives. 

Starlight rose from the throne and circled the slab of crystal, its surface twinkling with stars of pink, orange and blue from the display suspended above. "I am not about to scour Ponyville like a maniac," she said in a breath. She was bound to see Twilight again before the end of the day. 

After all, she wasn't the only pony Starlight needed to make amends with. 



'StAr-LiGhT~' sighed a breeze, sinking its teeth into Starlight, stirring her scraggly locks. Convulsing, gripped in the jaws of a chill, Starlight whipped to and fro and all about, as if Hydia were lurking upon the hay-thatched rooftops, ready to inflict more misery. But Starlight was just crazy: the air smelled of apples, clogged with the sounds of ponies yapping and haggling in the heart of Ponyville's market district. It was all there was. They were real. Starlight had fulfilled her end of the bargain, so it didn't matter what they truly were, what truths and lies those monsters had told that fateful day. Starlight was done with that chapter, done with the crones, and it was about time she got a grip on reality. 

It's about time she apologized to Trixie and Maud. 

Starlight continued on, eyes to the ground, and not because she was avoiding any who would ogle the Princess of Friendship's crippled friend. The market's bustle faded, drowned by Starlight's train of thought careening immediately towards, what else, but the niggling thoughts that plagued her since leaving home: Okay, I can understand why they'd not think to tell me, considering how I've acted, Starlight vaguely noted Lyra and Bon Bon glaring back at the one who wandered between them, but why wouldn't they leave a note for Tempest? What if she came downstairs, wishing to talk about... w-whatever's going on between them? She's be even more lost and hurt than me, probably. Twilight ought to have figured that... 

This behavior, so unlike Twilight, honestly haunted Starlight. It made her hairs stand on end, as though something truly terrible was about to happen, like a dog with her face to the black, heavy sky. Something was seriously wrong here, unless, of course, Starlight was overthinking things yet again, which was unfortunately more likely. And for that she hated herself, hated this personality trait that'd caused nothing but trouble, obsessing over trivial details as if they held some greater meaning; as if Sunburst never wrote back because he considered her beneath him, as if a chilly breeze were something deeper. 

As if losing her horn was a fated thing for the sake of Equestria, for the Princess of Friendship. 

Starlight whipped those doubts out of mind. No, no, that one was definitely a matter of fate. It had to be, and it was an honor to play such a crucial role in saving Equestria (however that would take form down the line; it might not even be in Starlight's lifetime). 

A cold overcame her with the notion. 

But sometimes, Starlight thought as the flower cart, out of nowhere, smacked her in the nose; ignoring whoever in the trio manned it today, and whatever noise she was spouting with a simple 'Sorry,' Starlight told herself, sometimes, the curtains are just blue because the author liked them.

Yeah, Starlight was overthinking it for sure: this lack of communication from Twilight and Spike. It still didn't change the fact that the circumstances were strange. Starlight just couldn't shake that feeling, no matter how far she would push Twilight from mind. Sometimes, Starlight was too smart for her own good. 

The irony made her chuckle bitterly. She had no right calling herself that right now. 'Smart.' 

Maybe some small part of her brain, clinging to what was atypical, anticipated some kind of notification taped on the front door. Because if anything was certain, it was that Twilight cared immensely for Fizzlepop's well-being; her bedroom and all the furniture inside, situated a few doors down from another much like her, stood as testament to that truth. A monument to the Princess of Friendship's generosity, kindness, and magic (of the friendship variety, not in the kind that had practical applications). 

So why skimp this time? Was it because she left in a rush? Maybe, but Twilight would've had a taken a letter from her drawers if that were the case. And Starlight knew this for a fact, because she once retrieved such a thing when Celestia summoned them for their magical expertise, and in doing so, shuffled through contingency letters pre-written for every situation imaginable. Spike's curvy penmanship marked each; Starlight pitied him the day Twilight got this bright idea. 

"Starlight!" By reflex she stopped and looked in the direction of that voice, where throngs of ponies milled about the market, and a white hoof waved over them all. 

Was she a bad pony for instinctively thinking, Uh-oh, upon hearing the cry of "Darling!" In that polished tone of voice? No, Starlight decided, as she kept walking, pretending she didn't hear, pretending several pairs of eyes weren't now swiveled her way. Tact and sensitivity were never Rarity's strong suit, and there were ponies Starlight needed to see now.

"Darling!" Dainty little yips and grunts and "Pardon me!"s cut through the market's commotion until their speaker rounded a group of kids led by Cheerilee, and Twilight's Canterlot friends passing in the opposite direction.

"Star-light!" she cried, assuming her friend still hadn't heard. 

That great friend who swallowed the urge to sigh. "I hear ya, Rares." She was trotting over, white as winter's first snowfall and not a hair out of place in her naturally coiffed mane. "You okay?" Her face was wrinkled like spoiled milk.

Rarity stammered silently, drinking in the pony before her from top (the very top), to bottom. She wasn't even hiding the fact that Starlight's maiming caught her eye. "I'm perfectly fine," she breathed, eyes roving, "I can't even imagine how you're feeling right now, though." 

"Why? Something wrong with this picture?" It was so obvious what a pony obsessed with one's appearance would think of her. Starlight didn't care, and her carefree tone hopefully implied as such. "It should be pretty clear how I'm feeling!" 

She was doing it again. Celestia dammit, Starlight was putting on an act again. But she couldn't just backpedal, now! Because then Rarity would go to Twilight, and...

Rarity's critical gaze zeroed in on her injury before settling upon her face. "Despite the risk of sounding repetitive, I sincerely cannot imagine." 

Well, at least she wasn't making assumptions. Maybe. Knowing Rarity, she'd already done so before opening her mouth. Alright. How much did Twilight tell you?" Might as well rip the band-aid off now. 

Blinking, Rarity began walking toward the lofty spire of Town Hall, away from the market's bustle. "I've not heard from the dear since dinner, last night." Right. When Starlight was not with Trixie, being productive with her time, and instead robbing Applejack and lazying about. "Why? Whatever gave you that idea? Was there I meeting I was supposed to attend?" Rarity fretted. 

"Naw, no," Starlight laughed, "just little old me, theorycrafting over here." She grinned harder, trotting forth with Rarity falling in step by her flank. "So! How're things with you?" 

"Starlight, I..." Rarity composed herself, eyes to the sky as she batted away a glimmer. Ever the queen of melodrama. "I've been thinking a lot, about these past few days. About what you've done and. And how it reflects on mine self and my Element." 

Oh, boy. Another spiel about her actions. Starlight gave a curt, "Uh-huh." The market's stalls gave way to an empty neighborhood, clamoring Ponyvillians fading behind them. 

"What you've done, darling, for our Twilight and what it'd cost you," her voice was soft, weak, "nothing in this world will ever express my gratitude. Or even come close to matching it." But of course, Rarity would try, make herself look good, and feel less lame than that crappy "party," if she held even a scrap of indignation toward the whole heinous affair. "Truly, with all our collective hearts, we thank you." 

Starlight swallowed hard, gut knotting, as she brightly replied, "Then do us both a favor, and save any comments about 'fixing' my mane so that it covers what's probably a 'garish scar' in your eyes. M'Kay? M'kay." This conversation was one of the first things that dawned on Starlight after dwelling on her injury in the dead of night. Its inevitability was as sure as the rising sun. 

The "makeover" from Rarity.

"I wasn't... Starlight, darling, if I'd given the wrong impression..." 

Starlight dug her hooves into the pavement; Trixie needed her. "You didn't. Alright?" Starlight whirled round, her glare reflected in Rarity's big blue eyes. "I'm just throwing it out there right now. Nothing more, got it? I just don't wanna hear about that, at all. Okay? ...And don't deny you weren't thinking that, too, Rares." The unicorn was nearly a statue, her jaw trembling at half-mast. Starlight was such a great friend, snapping at those who were trying to help. She couldn't help but chuckle. "Look, I get it," she sighed. "You want me to feel good about how I look now. But the truth is that I don't mind. I don't care. I'm not ashamed." 

Rarity straightened, eyes narrowed in a way that was reminiscent of a judging mother. "So your eyes to the ground, ears sagged, wandering the market aimlessly? That was pride I was seeing, was it not?" 

Of course she would notice. Read into it, despite having more important things to do than waste time fretting about the "less fortunate." 

"I get lost in thought, Rares. You know that." Neither of them needed this drama, especially when Rarity couldn't hope to understand the full extent of what she'd lost. It'd be pointless for Starlight and a distraction for Rarity. "Look, I appreciate your concern, but I don't need your help!" 

"Starlight..." A hoof crossed her heart. "Darling, are you truly well? Now, I-I admire your strength, it's simply diamond-like! But, and forgive me if my tact is not up to your standards, you look positively dreadful! I-I mean, you don't look like you've been taking care of yourself at all!" 

It was coming. It was so obvious Rarity was just easing the conversation to that apex: 'Let me help you. Fix you, fix your appearance so nopony has to see what you've lost when you walk into town.' Starlight tried her best not to seem bristled, because Rarity was only doing this because she cared. She couldn't forget this crucial fact.

"I know I look like crap. I've got a broken stump on my forehead, in case you haven't noticed." 

"S-Starlight, that's not what I meant." 

What else could it possibly be, then? "So what's the problem?!" 

Rarity winced. "Keep your voice down, Starlight, we're in public," she whispered, then softly but louder she asked, "Listen, how about you and I take a stroll to the Boutique, so we can... talk about what'd happened. Mare to mare." 

Starlight wrenched away; part of her selfishly wanted that, craved to just dump everything on Rarity, despite the business she'd built from the ground up. "Nah, I'm good." She continued down the path, toward Town Hall, where Trixie was always parked. "Listen, I'm meeting Trix to talk about something kinda important. You know how that pony gets when she's kept waiting!" 

"W-would you like me to-?" 

"No!" Whatever she was about to suggest, whatever juicy gossip for their friends Rarity was desperately trying to make her's, No. N-O, a big, fat, 'NO' to that.

Seconds ticked by. Starlight didn't stop, never looked back. She kept moving forward, pushing the encounter out of mind. It didn't matter, despite the silence, the utter lack of frantic, catch-up trotting, hurting worse than her horn did now. Worse than the utter lifelessness of the world she once knew so well. 

With any of her close friends, Rarity would push and push no matter how annoying she herself would be perceived. 

She was only trying to help, you stupid pony. You didn't have to be so nasty. But the damage was set in stone. Starlight didn't look back, even though her mumbled, "I'm sorry," was likely unheeded. Maybe next time.