//------------------------------// // Candle Cafe - May 16th // Story: They're Never Coming Back // by Flashgen //------------------------------// The evening sun painted the streets of Canterlot in dim oranges and reds where it reached, and in dark blacks where it did not. From her seat in a small storefront, Verdant Vines could see an alleyway across the path. The shadows in it appeared deep and unfathomable, even as the bakery nearby turned on its lights. She stared at it, her vision narrowing until all she could observe was the blackness. Limbs and body tensing, she tried to fight against the ensuing shiver that ran down her spine. “Here’s your tea, Miss Vines.” Verdant Vines blinked, vision returning to normalcy as she looked to the stallion standing next to her table. He placed two cups down on the table, steam wafting up from them. In the candlelight of the Candle Cafe, his dark orange coat and dull yellow mane seemed vibrant to her eyes, especially in contrast to the brown apron he wore. She offered him a smile and took one of the cups in her hooves. Raising it to her muzzle, she noticed the hints of floral fragrance in the steam. “Thank you, Wick,” she muttered before taking a gentle sip; the sweet honey was just enough to counteract the slightly bitter taste of some flower beneath it. Her eyes drifted back towards the dark alley, until she caught sight of a white unicorn trotting by the front window. Verdant Vines met the unicorn’s gaze, smiled, and placed her tea down. She was able to ignore the alley and its empty shadows, however impossible the act seemed to her. A chipper chime announced the unicorn’s entrance into the shop, her bright yellow mane rendered duller by the dim light. “I’m sorry for running late, Vines.” She approached the table, pulling a seat away with her magic. “The train was—” “I know, Clover. It’s fine. You somehow managed to get here right as the tea was ready, so…” Vines nudged the second cup towards White Clover and felt the tension in her body seep out of her. White Clover took her seat, lifting the cup up in her magic to take a sip. She savored it for a moment, eyes closed, before swallowing. “Lilac, honey, and… daffodil?” White Clover looked towards Flickering Wick, now seated behind the counter. He smiled and chuckled. “Always on the money, Clover. Can’t sneak a bit by you.” “It’s delicious as always.” White Clover went for another sip, but stopped halfway when she noticed the expression on Verdant Vines’ face: solemn and rigid despite the smile she wore. “Enjoying being back home, Vines?” Vines took a deep breath, eyes drifting down to the cup in front of her. She moved it back and forth in her hooves, the tea inside swirling gently. “It’s,” she finally let the breath go, “the same as it ever was. Always a little weird to get back after spending weeks somewhere else, like it should have changed while I was gone. Of course, the atmosphere has, but…” She looked up to Clover. “Thankful to be able to pass out in my own bed again.” Clover giggled, though her smile softened after a moment. “Always better when a case is actually solved, right?” Vines’ hooves stopped. She nodded and then downed the rest of her cup in a long gulp. “Yeah, means some accomplishment. Though it’s…” She sat the cup down towards the edge of the table. “How about just coffee, Wick? Have a cup or two left?” Flickering Wick began to forage around the cupboards beneath the counter. “Always have to make a new pot for you, Vines.” With Flickering Wick distracted and a minor racket acting as cover, Vines lowered her voice and leaned closer to Clover. “I’m still not sure that it’s done for good.” Clover leaned in as well, taking a deep breath. “We’ve talked about this already, Vines. It’s never really going to be ‘over.’ We keep helping the po—” “You know what I mean, Clover. I’m still left with questions we can’t really be sure about.” Vines glanced around the shop, verifying that they were the only three ponies there, and that some passerby wasn’t about to join them. “Do you think they know what Twilight knew?” Clover took a long sip of her tea. Letting out a sigh, she kept her eyes on Vines. “Well, from the interviews it seems like no one else that went through the ordeal made any kind of ground on… understanding that place. I think the closest consensus was them understanding that the creatures there hated the light and that they felt cold outside of the light, both things we already mentioned in the press release.” Vines tapped the floor gently with a hoof, but caught herself after a few moments. “And what she did?” Clover was quiet for a few moments. “If they do, they haven’t said anything to us, except for Solace. She approached him after… that ordeal, and he had some idea of what she was, though he didn’t understand it until we showed him the journal. Still, he’s unwilling to discuss it, probably to put what he suffered through behind him. That and he understands why we didn’t mention it.” Clover looked down at her tea, lifting the cup to her lips. “The kind of panic it could raise… knowing that those things were once us. That if they come back, more ponies could join them.” The din of rummaging quieted and the two mares leaned back in their seats. Wick approached the table with a tray just a minute later, dropping off two clean cups and a fresh pot of coffee. Clover smiled and floated a few bits towards him. “Wick, would you mind getting a few things for me from the back? I’m low on that rosemary brew and green tea too. Some more jasmine and lilac would hit the spot as well. I just can’t do without them at home, and the stock from Leaf’s store is… It just never compares.” Wick placed the bits in a pouch on his apron and headed for the backroom. “Anything for my best customers. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” While the two were left alone, they still kept their voices low. As Clover poured a cup for both of them, Vines resumed their conversation. “So you think the story is good? I mean, given somepony doesn’t break protocol.” “Are you getting ideas or just being worried?” Clover focused on finishing her tea, though she moved her cup of coffee close enough for the steam to waft up towards her muzzle. Vines had nothing to say. “Regardless, yes. I think the story we’ve given Equestria is… acceptable. Enough truth to avoid questioning. Certainly there’s still a worry about it happening again because we told them that it happened before, but most of the focus is on what ponies went through and what we’ll do to move forward.” Vines sighed as the warmth from her drink spread out through her body. She took another, longer sip when she saw the darkened road outside, the last rays of the sunset nearly gone by the time the street lamps turned on. “Then you have ponies like Rainbow Dash, and me.” Vines felt a hoof on hers. Her gaze drifted back to Clover across the table. Her eyes were kind despite how weary they appeared. They seemed to stare deeply into Vines’. “It’s over, Vines. There’s no more visions, there’s no more whispers, there’s no danger in the dark and… you wrote the last report, right? You know the truth.” Vines sat her coffee down, and then gripped Clover’s hoof gently in return. “I know. I… we can’t know for sure. If she can’t feel it, what warning is there? Maybe the Princesses will have more to say, eventually. When they feel they can actually tell Equestria, at least.” She looked to her side, down at the saddlebags next to her chair. “You need the report, right?” Clover softened her grip on Vines’ hoof. “If it’s ready. I’ll make sure it gets where it needs to go.” When Vines nodded, Clover reached into the bag with her magic, pulling out a manila folder and a reel of audio tape. She put the tape in her own bag and opened up the folder. “Amalgam?” “Celestia didn’t give any request other than making a file. I thought it fit.” Vines finally let go of Clover’s hoof and returned to her coffee. Her eyes drifted back to the alley across the street. In the dusk, lit by only the bakery next to it and the street lamps of the road, it seemed darker still. The shadows were growing, encroaching on the empty street more and more by the second, but every sip of warm, bitter coffee pushed them back. “Yes, I suppose it does. Do you think they’ll…?” Clover asked. “It’s up to them. I hope they make some progress, but… how do you recover from that? Especially when one of them doesn’t want it.” As the door to the backroom opened, Clover put the file in her bags. She and Vines returned to their coffee, their tea, and eventually to talking about anything but the case that had finished. Vines managed to pull her attention away from the alleyway, but she couldn’t stop herself from glancing at it out of the corner of her eye.