//------------------------------// // To Glimpse the Edge of Something Infinite // Story: Kaleidoscope // by Seer //------------------------------// "Rarity, wake up," she says, and gently stirs me. But the sand is comfortable beneath my tummy, and I don't want to move. "How long have we been here?" I ask sleepily, and she stares at me. We can't help it, and we both start to laugh. What a silly question. I stare down at the sand between my hooves while she flicks through a book. "It's been occurring to me more and more that, while I remember that all my lives have happened, I cannot tell you anything about them." "Hmm," she replies, still focusing on the pages. "You know don't you? This has happened to you." It's a statement, not a question, "How long does it last?" And when she turns to respond to me, it's one moment in a countless infinity, and it passes before I even realise it's begun. "Sometimes I wonder if we're the pastime of a god. Or an experiment gone wrong. What could have possibly inspired what we are? Clearly we weren't ever meant to know infinity." "Oh?" she asks, handing me a pocket watch she's been playing with. "But then I think about how many times I've lived, and I think about how many times I must have had these ideas. Nothing became of them then, so why would something now? Maybe there aren't any new ideas." "Inspiration is a strange thing," she replies, "I don't think there's much new under the sun." "That's what terrifies me." When I look at her, she towers over me. It's not often I get to chat to her when I'm a foal. We stroll along the beach, and when I look at all of the ponies around us it's almost like they're in fast motion. "I don't want to keep doing this. They all die so quickly, and I die with them each time." "I know." "Can you tell me how to stop it?" I ask, and she doesn't respond. We continue our walk and I start to feel slow. At this point I realise I'm towering over her again. When I look at my hooves they're all wrinkly, but she doesn't look any different. "Come on Rarity," she says, reaching out hooves to help me along, "Just a little further now." We are both staring at the sea. She's playing around idly with a large knife. I cannot fathom a world in which is would be necessary, but she has it so we must be in one. "How did you know? That first time back?" I ask, and she raises her eyebrows. "You've never asked me that before." "It never seemed too important. I just assumed you were the same as I am. Are you?" "I am and I'm not," "I'm tired of riddles." I reply. "It explains it the best it can be explained Rarity. I knew because I used to be like you, before I was this." "And how do you feel about that?" "Do you care how I feel?" she asks, and it's entirely without malice. "No," I say, and it sounds like her, "But I think I might become something different soon, so I want to know what it's like." "I think you'll understand when I'm gone." "Why won't you help me stop this?" I say, and begin to sob, "I'm so tired." "It's not that simple." "Well why not?!" I scream, and she places the knife down, "I'm sick of dancing, blinking through years in seconds. Come to think of it, I've not seen you die once. Not like I do." "You don't know how long I've wanted to hear that. Would you like to? Are you ready now?" she asks, voice awash with relief as her eyes flick to the knife. It's at that point that I think I understand. She doesn't need to say please, she doesn't have time to before I take it and ram it into her throat. I wouldn't want someone to hesitate with me, so I won't for her. She doesn't flinch, and for the only time in countless infinities her smile looks something other than tired. And when she's spent, I stand and walk straight to the water. It isn't like that first time, not entirely. Instead of immersing my head. I float there for a spell and feel the tide against my coat. It cools me and mingles with my tears. On the shore I see a foal, the first other pony I can recall seeing in detail for a long time, and I allow myself the short respite of drowning in solitude.