She only lasted a minute. The tears rolling down her face did nothing to quench the fire in her cheeks. What was wrong with her? She couldn't even walk down the street without making a complete fool of herself in front of a stranger—worse than that she had nearly hurt somepony. She was glad to be by herself again, but Vinyl must have been even happier to be able to get away from such a weird mare as she must have seemed. She was just lucky she had been able to fix the glasses. What would have happened if she hadn't been? Probably she would have had the guards called on her.
How did she manage to keep the friends she had around? Did they just hang out with her so they could laugh at her later? She asked many questions, but the floor did not answer her. It only pressed her ear painfully against her head. She did not stand up. That ear was the only thing keeping her grounded. It was something real. It was a rock she could cling to amidst the tempest in her mind. That she was battered and beaten against it (she could get so dramatic sometimes) did not lessen its value in the least. As time went on she pressed her head even harder against the ground. The pinching sharpened to a point.
She did not remember getting up, but at some point she ended up in bed. She did not stop crying; she was sure of that.She saw that mare, Vinyl looking at her through the window with a concerned expression, but that might have been a dream. She remembered it as dimly as a dream, at any rate.
Her eyes were still puffy when she woke up, and the fur around them was crusty with sleep. She brushed it away with her magic as she lurched out of bed.
Nighttime incidents aside, that day went just the same way as the day before. And the day before that, and so on. But this day's variation on the endlessly repeating theme of her life, came in the form of a letter waiting for her when she arrived home from the library. It was less of an intrusion than the night before, but still an intrusion; she did not get much mail. Which was good, because when ponies write to you, they usually expect you to write back, which was something she did not have time for at all—especially for strangers.
This letter did not come from a stranger. It had a royal seal on it. Not of a sun or moon, but a six pointed star, pressed in purple wax. The shape of it was unmistakable to her.
Twilight Sparkle. She almost would have preferred a letter from a stranger. Strangers were not so complicated. She could just ignore a stranger if she really needed to. But Twilight? Twilight would be showing up at her door soon if she did not reply to whatever was in this. The tricky part, was whether that was a good or a bad thing.
The dreams of the previous night came floating back up in the corners of her mind. Twilight Sparkle, that nag. Who did she think she was. yanking Moondancer around like this. She may have been a princess but so what. That didn't give her the right to play with ponies' feelings however she wanted. She might have been cute once but she blew it. Moondancer didn't hate her anymore, but there was no going back to what they had been before.
Not that she wanted to.
She read the letter over and over. The ink was black. Her lights were dim, and the dark lines seemed to recede: deep, winding chasms in the parchment. It was worse than she feared. Twilight was not announcing a visit—it must be awfully nice to be a princess and just invite yourself wherever you want—no, instead of intruding on her space, Twilight was inviting her to come to Ponyville. And make no mistake, this was more than just a friendly request.
Moondancer admitted that she did not know much about what Twilight was like as a princess, but the Twilight she had known was not in the habit of sending frivolous letters. When she wrote something she expected results. Moondancer was much the same way. That was the kicker. But that was what happened when you only wrote letters because there was absolutely no alternative—except actually talking to somepony—: you needed the response as badly as you had needed to send the message.
And here Twilight had sent her a message. "Come down and visit me in Ponyville." As if that was a simple thing. Maybe for her it was, but not for everypony. Twilight knew exactly who she was writing to. Twilight knew exactly what she was asking of Moondancer—except she didn't, did she? Moondancer stared sternly ahead. She breathed in and she breathed out and she did not say anything. There were no words in her mind, only the image of a purple unicorn, of that beautiful, brilliant alicorn.
She had to know, right? Moondancer had made her feelings very clear. It had certainly been obvious enough to the others, for all the good that did her. She could almost hear Twinkleshine teasing her in the distance.
And now she was going to see Twilight again, under better circumstances. Maybe she could—no. When she thought of Twilight other thoughts appeared too. Twilight had come back for her, but she could not forget where Twilight had left her. It still hurt to look at her. Even if she felt other things too, they could not outweigh the hurt.
She read the letter again. Next weekend she was wanted. Next weekend, down in Ponyville. She only hoped she would have enough time to work out what she wanted to say. She searched her stacks, and pulled out a book on rhetoric. There was nothing to lose by brushing up.
Moondancer had been worried that she would not be able to find Twilight's castle when she arrived in Ponyville. It was a moot point since Twilight was waiting for her at the station. She had fully expected that, after all, what were the chances that Twilight wouldn't show? She would never do anything like that. But supposing she had, her castle towered over everything else, and it would have been nothing at all for Moondancer to make her way there herself and—greet her.
Twilight had a beaming smile on her face as Moondancer stepped onto the platform. "Hey there! I'm so glad to see you. Ever since we got caught up again, I've been wanting to invite you to Ponyville." She pulled Moondancer into a hug.
"Yeah. Well, I'm here, I guess?" Moondancer put her face into a smile too.
"Well come along now. I hope you had a relaxing train ride, because there's a lot I want to show you," Twilight said. She spun about, and trotted away. Moondancer followed her closely.
For a long time she had wondered what could possibly be so great about Ponyville to keep Twilight there. Now, seeing it for herself, actually walking the streets, she understood even less. She did not try to compare it to Canterlot, tally up the advantages and disadvantages of life in the two places. There was no use trying; they were in two different categories altogether.
She just could not see what Twilight saw in the place. That was compounded by what she could see, which was that the Twilight walking beside her was not at all the Twilight she had grown up with. Moondancer hardly recognized her. Their circle of friends had been tight knit back in their school days, here it seemed like everypony they passed was another of Twilight's friends. They could hardly go two steps without Twilight calling out to somepony, or else somepony greeted her. Thankfully they did not pay too much attention to Moondancer. Twilight may have decided she wanted to be a popular mare, but she still had no interest in such things.
"So where are we going first?" she asked. The streets here were dirt. Dirt! She suddenly realized how much she had taken the well paved streets of Canterlot for granted. She could feel the grit working its way between her shoes and hooves. She did her best to ignore the sensation as she listened to Twilight's answer.
"Well," Twilight said, producing a scroll which unfurled itself in front of her, "first on our itinerary is to visit Lyra."
Moondancer remembered that Lyra had moved to Ponyville too. She had forgotten that. She liked her well enough, but she frankly didn't know her too well. For her, her friends had been Twilight and the others.
She remembered that Lyra liked music. She tried to recall the last thing she had listened to. Her cutie mark did not have anything to do with music, but even beyond that, she had never really been interested in music. It sounded nice, she supposed, but she could not see what Lyra and so many other ponies did in it. So what was she going to talk about? Was it just going to end up like those unbearable moments when she was a foal and one of her parents stopped to talk with some friend for ages. About what she had never cared: it could not possibly be as important as whatever book she wanted to keep reading at that time. And while she still didn't care, she regretted not paying any attention because it had left her clueless as to what she was supposed to talk about.
"We're here!" Twilight chirped, jarring Moondancer out of her reverie. A cottage came into focus in front of her. Is it still a cottage if it's in the middle of a town? Or only in the country. Have to look it up. Regardless of terminology, it was a plain building, comparatively speaking. Twilight opened the door and walked in without even knocking. Moondancer looked all around as she followed. Wasn't that weird? Just walking into somepony's house.
As usual, it went better than she had feared. But that was just luck. Lyra did not end up questioning her too much. And time did not drag on like it always seemed to. It helped that most of the conversation was between the other two. Even if she did not have much to say, there was something nice about just listening to their voices.
But Twilight still liked her lists, and when she had satisfied herself that they had checked that first item off, they were gone. Back down the street they went. In short order up another. They had walked across the whole town (not very far, admittedly) two or three times before The List said it was time for lunch.
Moondancer did not normally have much of a lunch. She was much too busy. Moondancer also did not usually spend all day walking around, so she was famished nevertheless. So she was grateful when Twilight led her on a short distance to a small cafe.
They sat down outside. Moondancer noticed, now that she was still and away form books (a rare thing), how nice the day was. A gentle breeze slid across her fur, the coolness in perfect balance to the warmth of the sun. She looked up, as she had read ponies often did. The sky was a clear deep blue; the pegasi had ornamented it with a few scraps of cloud, a white almost glaringly bright.
Twilight ordered two cups of tea for them, as they waited for their food. Moondancer was grateful. Both because she was thirsty and because it gave her an excuse not to talk as she sipped it. That became less of an aspect as the minutes passed. Now she was alone with Twilight, and she remembered how to be comfortable with that. They talked about books, sharing what they were reading at the moment. Moondancer was always happy to discuss those.
A familiar feeling pervaded the atmosphere. Many a lunch spent like this in their school days came to Moondancer's mind. It was just like old times. So, of course, she could not but remember that it was not old times. Dis-ease wormed its way back into her mind. Twilight's wings seemed to bulge from her sides; they were reminders that things would never be the same.
But no. Back to her face. Back to the books. She's still into Daring Do? I mean, they were good when we were fillies but getting a little old now. Maybe have to reread.
Moondancer was enjoying herself.
Then she stretched. She looked around as she did, and she froze in her stretch.
For sitting at the other side of the terrace they were on was Vinyl Scratch. Their eyes met. Oh Celestia, she's waving. Moondancer quickly looked somewhere else.
"Are you alright there?" Twilight said.
"Yeah. Fine," Moondancer said more quickly than she would have liked. Just ignore her. It'll be okay. She tried to focus on the book they had been talking about.
She had almost succeeded when a hoof slapped her on the back. "Hey there. You didn't say you knew Twilight," Vinyl's voice said from behind her.
Twilight seemed surprised. "Wow. I had no idea you two knew each other. How'd you meet?" She cocked an eyebrow at Moondancer.
"Ummmm," Moondancer said. Thankfully Vinyl quickly launched into an explanation. The shame of that night returned in a roaring flame licking at her skin. But it was still better than telling the story herself. She felt like she should add something, but she could not think of anything to say, so she simply nodded along occasionally making affirmative sounds.
When Vinyl finished she turned on Moondancer again. "So what are doing here in Ponyville, girl?"
Moondancer hesitated for a moment. When Twilight did not answer for her, she spoke, "It's kind of a long story. We—Twilight and I—used to be friends in school. So Twilight invited me to catch up."
Finally, Twilight decided she wanted to contribute. You would think she would have done so earlier, being the only one to actually know everypony involved here. "That's right. Moondancer was one of my closest friends back before I came to Ponyville. I, uh, kind of lost touch with her when I moved." Her ears flopped down, and her eyes darted around, looking all over the place except at Moondancer, who, for her part, was counting the hairs on Twilight's muzzle.
"Which was a shame. She and I really have a lot in common. She's just about the only pony I've ever met who likes books as much as me."
"Oh yeah?" Vinyl said. She turned to Moondancer, "So what kind of stuff do you like?"
Moondancer had, the past few days, been working her way through a treatise on agriculture, and the indirect effects of earth pony magic on the quality of crops. But she felt suddenly embarrassed to talk about it. She dispelled even quicker thoughts of mentioning the article she had been composing on it, soon to join the others, safe in a special niche. "Oh, pretty much everything, I guess," she said. It was the truth, even if a vague one.
"Pretty cool," said Vinyl. "I'm—"she threw a glance at Twilight"—hoping Twilight won't banish me for this, but I've never been able to get through a book without falling asleep."
"But not for lack of trying!" she added, grinning at Twilight. "Just ain't my thing, so good on you." She bent down to Moondancer's ear and whispered, just loud enough for Twilight to hear: "Get out while you still can. She's gone mad with power, everypony who doesn't read enough is getting sent to the book camps—ow!"
Twilight swatted her. Rolling her eyes, she said, "And you've already met her, but this is the second best Vinyl Scratch around—it's a long story—and she is a musician."
"Pfft. That's all?" Vinyl interrupted, "you're not going to mention how I'm the best DJ in Equestria. Come on, Twilight." She turned to Moondancer, "I don't mean to brag, but I'm kind of a big deal."
Moondancer giggled. For some reason the faux grandstanding—and the good natured gleam in Vinyl's eye said plainly that it was only bluster—was suddenly endearing.
Vinyl continued, "Yeah, I play gigs all over the place. I'm up in Canterlot all the time. I'd just got done at one of my favorite places when I ran into you the other night. 'The Galloping Gelding.' The name could use some work, but, hey, they've got a good atmosphere. You should come sometime. I meant it when I invited you the other night."
"Umm, I'll think about it," Moondancer said.
"Anyway, I should probably get going, I think I just saw my food get here. You two have a good time," Vinyl said. Then, louder, "Settle down, Tavi, I'm coming!" She trotted away.
Moondancer watched her. She saw another pony at Vinyl's table, who she had not noticed earlier. A gray mare, 'Tavi,' was sitting there, looking impatient. Vinyl sat down and started talking to her. She had never been one for ponywatching, or the eavesdropping that she admitted she would have done if she were closer, but that conversation was just so much more interesting than her sandwich.
At least Vinyl had left before too long. There were few things that Moondancer disliked more than chatting with strangers. She had never got the hang of how to do it without embarrassing herself.
Either way, it was over now. Now she was laughing at something the gray mare said. She had been like that with Twilight, too. Joking around. It must have been something she did with everypony.
She heard Twilight's voice in the distance. "That's so funny that you two ran into each other. It reminds me of the first time I saw Pinkie Pie."
"Yeah, I guess," Moondancer said, even though it most definitely had not been funny. It was even less funny now in her view. If she had know at the time that Vinyl was as big a deal as she apparently was, she probably would have caught fire from the embarrassment.
They were laughing again at the other table. Probably Vinyl joking about her, about the loser she ran into on the street. Or how she was stalking her. She wasn't! Really she wasn't. It was all a coincidence. She was invited here; she had a letter. If anypony accused her of stalking she would just show them that. It was proof.
No, no, no. That wasn't what was happening (though she did have the letter). Vinyl was a jokester, sure, but not that kind of jokester. If she did say anything about her it would be like that line about Twilight, not anything you could take serious. Besides, if anything she liked her. She was the one who had come over here.
She continued to chat with Twilight. While she remained distracted, over time this quieted. There were books to discuss, after all. And books were one thing that had not changed about Twilight—she still as much a bibliophile as she had ever been. Before long they were talking what sounded like nonsense to anypony listening in, having long left behind the titles that most ponies had heard of; they sailed away over a vast sea of ink.