Chapter 4: “Learning To Live”
Dusk lay on his back on the small bed. The ceiling hadn’t moved in at least half an hour—he had been watching. He pawed at his eyes and yawned. Lack of sleep aside, he might have a chance at having a good day today. It was always apparent when he was going to have a bad one; the cold sweat was a dead giveaway.
The last two weeks had fallen into a distinct rhythm. He had found that getting through a whole night without being disturbed was a luxury he wasn’t often granted. The nightmares were much more common. Dusk had heard ponies use “haunted by dreams” as a metaphor, but the phrase was all too real to him now. He knew he had woken Twilight up at least once as the nightmares got to him, and while she had been tactful enough not to say anything about it, she had to know how often he lost sleep over his dreams.
This can’t last, Dusk thought mournfully. She’s gonna get sick of me soon. I’m just a burden on her, and she’s tried to do so much for me already.
He rolled over and stared at the shelves full of unused books for a change. His host really had gone out of her way for him. Since he moved in she had been not only housing and feeding him but also introducing him to her friends to get him used to being around other ponies, talking with him about his life, and ever so carefully avoiding the delicate topics. She learned fairly quickly that he was not open to talk about what happened to him. At best he was frustrated at what he couldn’t or didn’t want to remember, and at worst— He preferred to not think about that. The two had walked on eggshells around each other enough already.
Nothing else to do. I guess I might as well get up and face the day. He sighed, levering himself out of the bed. Again.
- - - - -
Twilight sat at the breakfast table and tried to remain calm. The Princess had written her a return letter that morning, which lay in front of her as she read it yet again.
My dearest Twilight,
While it is unusual to hear from you without a friendship report attached, I always love to get a letter, no matter the circumstances. I must admit, though, the situation you’ve related to me is certainly a sad one. To answer your questions, we haven’t received any reports of missing ponies in Canterlot, though there have been a few other incidents. Because some of these are still being investigated by the Canterlot Guard, I can’t say much about them, and while I do have a guess (and only a guess) about Dusk’s story, I feel it better to not say anything at this time lest I be proven wrong.
I’m afraid there isn’t a whole lot of information I can give you about issues such as Dusk’s. There hasn’t been a great deal of research into the subject, and the last time anypony observed serious symptoms like Dusk’s was thousands of years ago, after the Gryphon War. Studying the mind is only now starting to get over the taboo it’s always been associated with. It still requires both my personal approval and a vote of the council to conduct research on ponies, so nothing gets done quickly. I’m afraid that a unicorn’s ability to work magic inside other pony’s heads makes them uncomfortable and that makes finding volunteers tricky as well.
There are, however, a few selected works I don’t think you would have available in your shelves. I will be sending you a volume by Samuel Neighlor. While his theories are more philosophy than science, his ideas are still some of the best guesses we have into the ‘why’ behind the workings of the mind.
I hope you are able to help this stallion, my student, if not by healing his mind then perhaps just by helping him learn to live again.
Princess Celestia
P.S. As requested, I will also be sending the bestiary for Fluttershy to peruse. I hope she finds it fascinating!
If nothing else, Twilight had learned over the years that while the Princess’ habit of rarely providing direct answers could seem unhelpful she was usually paving the way for Twilight to discover the answers on her own. While this knowledge was comforting, it did nothing to make the search any less maddening.
There was one line that jumped out at her, though—learn to live again. She passed the phrase back and forth in her mind. Would it really be that helpful? Could she have been looking at this backwards?
Twilight nodded to herself. She knew what she had to try next.
- - - - -
Dusk walked into the kitchen, trying to do his best to present a chipper attitude. Twilight didn’t look like she was buying it.
“Come here, Dusk. Let’s talk for a minute,” she said.
Well, that’s that. Not that I can blame her or anything. Maybe I can sleep in the square tonight. He walked over and sat across the table from her, waiting on her to open the discussion.
“Dusk, I think we need to change things up a bit.”
Dusk’s eyes fell. “I’m sorry, Twilight. I knew this was gonna come eventually.”
The unicorn tensed, looking bewildered. “Wait, what? What was coming?”
Dusk froze, quite confused himself. “Um… aren’t you asking me to leave?”
“Oh, no! No, Dusk, I wouldn’t kick you out.” She relaxed. “Why in the name of Harmony would you think I would kick you out?”
“Because I’m a total pain in the flank! I know it. I’ve made your life nothing but trouble since I moved in here. I’m a huge burden, Twilight! I sleep in your house, I eat your food, and I can’t do anything to repay you.”
Twilight got up and walked around the table to stand facing Dusk. “Any effort on my part is a gift between friends. I’ve spent four years now studying friendship, and one of the hardest and most important lessons is that you never leave your friends, especially not when they need help.” She sighed quietly. “And you definitely need help, Dusk. I’ve been hoping that things would get better, but I think they’ve gotten worse, really.”
Dusk tried to shake off her words. “No, not worse. Really, I think it’s been getting better.”
She met his gaze cooly. “Oh? Is there another pegasus in your room who wakes up yelling?”
He winced. “So you do hear me.”
“Of course. You’re in the room right below mine.” Twilight put a friendly hoof on his shoulder, and Dusk was mildly proud that he didn’t actually flinch this time. “Look, I’ve been thinking a lot about this, and we may be going about the whole situation the wrong way.”
“How so?”
She trotted out to the library and Dusk followed close behind. “Your mind is injured, much like your leg was.” Dusk stopped and stared at the red, newly forming red scar on his leg, where the fur was growing in. Twilight continued, “To extend the metaphor, we’ve been treating it like bed rest so far, but an injury almost always requires therapy of some kind, using the affected body part to strengthen it back to where it was before.”
He wasn’t quite following the metaphor. “So… I need to exercise my mind?”
“Sort of. What I was really thinking of was something to get your mind working on something other than your situation. Simply put, you need a hobby.”
“Like stamp collecting? Or that thing you do with yarn and needles?”
“Crochet.”
“Bless you.”
Twilight put a hoof to her face in exasperation. “Anything physical would be ideal, and you could—“ She stopped suddenly. “Hey, here’s an idea—you don’t want to be a burden and you need something to do. What if you could solve both of your problems at once?”
“Um, what did you have in mind?”
“Dusk, I think you should get a job.”
Dusk winced again. “Ouch, I think I just heard my father,” he deadpanned.
Twilight gasped at him. “Was that two jokes in one day?” She grinned madly. “Maybe you are getting better. Let’s go get some lunch, and then we’ll see what’s available around town for you to do.”
- - - - -
“Well, that could have gone better,” Dusk sighed.
“I had no idea the Ponyville Post Office was so overstaffed. The only pony I ever see around is Derpy.” Twilight looked up at the sky as they walked back across town. “Hey, you’re a pegasus; maybe Rainbow Dash can give you a place with the weather team!”
Dusk flapped his wings ruefully, barely shifting his weight, much less lifting off the ground. “Can’t exactly fly, remember?”
“Oh yeah.”
- - - - -
“I’m sorry, Dusk, but we just can’t take on any additional staff,” said Mayor Mare. “It’s nothing against you, you see, it’s just money. The Princess has made it perfectly clear that she can’t provide us any additional funding except in the case of national emergency. At least, not until we pay off the loan we had to take out to”—she paused, teeth gritting—“fix City Hall after somepony”—her left eye started to twitch worryingly—“destroyed it,” she finished woodenly.
Dusk glanced over at Twilight, and they shared the same awkward look. The two decided to get out of the mayor’s mane as quickly as possible.
- - - - -
“Okay, Twilight, I like sweets as much as anypony, but what made you think that I could get a job at Sugarcube Corner? I’ve never baked anything in my life!”
“So it didn’t make any sense; I still thought it was worth it. The Cakes might not have seen any potential, but Pinkie liked you.” She laughed. “By the way, you still have some frosting in your mane.”
- - - - -
“I really am sorry, darling, but you know what kind of shop I have,” Rarity said, in the midst of floating fabric swatches. “Custom orders, small runs, detailed work. I just don’t have the need for help.”
Twilight sat on her haunches as her enthusiasm finally ran out. “I know. It was a long shot. It’s just that we’ve been pretty much everywhere else in Ponyville.”
Rarity magically pinned a pair of reddish swatches to a hat form and let the others float back into their drawer. “Really? Have you asked—“
“Yes,” Dusk and Twilight said in unison.
Rarity frowned. “What about—“
“Tried that.”
“Oh, do stop that,” the designer huffed. “I was merely going to ask you if you had been out to talk to Applejack yet.”
Twilight ran a hoof through her mane. “Didn’t AJ hire all the help she needed for harvest months ago?”
“Yes, well, that was the case.” Rarity stopped and stared at the hat. “Which one is better, do you think, dear?”
Dusk stared. “Um… aren’t they the same color?”
Rarity blew out an exasperated sigh. “Honestly, Twilight, he’s worse than you are when it comes to fashion,” she grumbled, making her choice of colors herself. “Anyway, I was saying that Caramel had to leave town due to family issues. I understand his mother was ill and he was going home to help out. I do believe our friend Applejack could still use a hoof or two around the farm.”
Dusk perked up immediately. “Well, that sounds fine.”
Twilight looked thoughtful for a few seconds. “You know, that really is a pretty good idea. Thanks, Rarity!”
- - - - -
“So, let me git this straight.”
Applejack leaned casually against the fence and chewed thoughtfully on the straw in her mouth. Twilight and Dusk stared at her with hopeful grins on their faces. She spat the straw out. “Your pegasus friend there wants a job. Here. On mah farm.”
Dusk nodded emphatically. “That’s it, Miss Applejack.”
“Pegasus. Not earth pony.”
Twilight interjected. “He doesn’t have to plant; it’s harvest time, right? Even if he can’t help in the field, surely there’s something he could do around the farm.”
The famer looked away, frowning slightly. Dusk was going almost cross-eyed from anxiety waiting for her to make a decision. Applejack glanced sideways at him, expression deadpan. “And you’re sure he won’t try to kill us if we offer him an apple?”
Dusk felt his heart fall right into his stomach. “I—I didn’t—”
The orange earth pony doubled over laughing. “Oh, Dusk, I’m just messin’ with ya. I’d be glad to give ya a job.”
Twilight beamed. “Really? That’s great!”
Applejack wiped a hoof across her teary eyes. “Of course. Applebuck season really kicks in next week, and I’m gonna be needed in the fields most’a the time. Everypony will be plowin’ fields, plantin’ winter crops, or gatherin’ food in. It wouldn’t hurt to have somepony doin’ the daily chores. Frees me up to get some apples harvested!”
Dusk almost collapsed in gratitude. “Oh, thank you Miss Applejack!”
She winced. “Okay, first rule: you’ll be out of a job in a heartbeat if ya ever call me ‘Miss’ again, we square?”
“Yes. Yes. Thank you.”
“Okay, show up here in the morning, the earlier the better. We’ll see if me and Mac can’t make a farmer outta a pegasus.”
- - - - -
Dusk collapsed on a hay bale, choosing to drench himself with the water bucket in front of him instead of drinking it, scowling at the sounds coming from behind him. Applejack strode up, trying to get her laughter under control. “Had enough, sugarcube?” she teased, leaning on the water pump, forelegs crossed nonchalantly.
As far as first days went, this was one of the toughest he’d ever endured. He showed up on the farm at daybreak only to find that the Apple clan was up well ahead of him. Applejack gave him the tour of the estate and wasted no time running him through various tasks to see what he could do. He tried his hoof at several jobs and found that he didn’t really have it where it counted to be a true farm pony. His rear hooves were still killing him from his first attempt at applebucking, and he had almost pulled his shoulder out of its socket trying to move a plow. The general labor was hard enough, though. Dusk hadn’t had to rely on his physical strength much in his life, and now he was getting a crash course in manual labor.
Big Macintosh hadn’t helped any. He had taken one look at Dusk, declared him “awfully scrawny,” and ordered that before lunch every day he had to exercise. The pegasus had been required to run laps of the orchard, lift hay bales, and do push-ups, both with his hooves and his wings. He was somewhere beyond exhausted.
Dusk turned to glare at his boss, who burst out laughing again. “Oh, come on, you never done any hard work before?”
“Oh, I probably have, but not in years.” He sighed heavily. “I haven’t worked this hard since I enlisted in the REA.”
Applejack grabbed his bucket and refilled it from the water pump. “Oh? A military pony?” she asked, passing the water over to him.
He accepted it gratefully, taking several large gulps. “Sorta. I enlisted, but I was in the information corps. I was a recon flier. I didn’t really do much physical training after basic was over.”
“Huh,” she grunted, a thoughtful expression on her face. “So, Twilight told me I should keep an eye on ya, see how you were handlin’ things.”
Dusk was quiet for a moment. He hadn’t thought about it until now. He hadn’t thought about much of anything aside from what his next task was, and the list had been fairly long. Keeping so busy hadn’t left him any time to remember that he even had problems, and when he stopped he was so tired his brain just gave up and switched off.
“Honestly, I’m starting to think that Twilight was on to something here. All this slave-driving you’re doing to me has kept me too busy to focus on anything else.”
His boss chuckled. “Glad to hear it, sugarcube. How ‘bout some dinner? We’re all gettin’ together for a meal to celebrate the harvest season. We even invited Twilight in honor of your first day.”
He enthusiastically accepted her offer, mostly because it meant he didn’t have to walk across town in his current state. He shook himself dry and the two ponies headed back to the farmhouse, where Dusk entered into controlled chaos. He remembered several names from his introductions that morning. Granny Smith was running the kitchen like a general, directing Apple Bloom at the stove as she put finishing touches on several pastries. Big Mac was carting plates and trays back and forth to the picnic table on the front lawn, loading up the various delicacies. Applejack joined the other farm hands as they milled about, helping where they could fit in. A white filly chatted animatedly with her orange friend in the corner, the latter waving her hooves as she recounted some experience or another. From her movements, it seemed rather exciting.
Dusk found himself tensing slightly at the sight of so many ponies so close, but it was mostly out of habit. He found that he wasn’t feeling the same fearful anxiety he had become accustomed to.
“Hey there, how was your first day?” Twilight asked, trotting up to his side.
“There certainly was a lot to take in,” he said, watching the scene in front of them.
“Sort of like this?”
“This is a lot, too. But it is less painful, so there’s that.” He turned to her. “Seriously, Twilight, thanks. This was a great idea. Instead of hurting in my head, now I just hurt in my legs. And my flank. And my chest. And probably even my mane.” He smiled, enjoying the happy feeling of the home.
His friend smiled as the dinner bell rang out, summoning them all to the meal. A dozen-or-so ponies of every color found places on the benches surrounding the large picnic table. Dusk found himself seated near the end, between Twilight and the orange filly with the unruly magenta mane who kept up a stream of argument with the other young ones as they all piled up their plates.
“Hey mister, how ‘bout some applesauce?” Apple Bloom said, grinning as she passed a large bowl across the table to him. Dusk’s face reddened a bit as he gave an embarrassed grin and quiet thanks back.
“I haven’t seen you before,” said the orange filly, turning to him. “What’s your name?”
“My name’s Dusk Chaser. What’s yours?”
“Scootaloo. Are you a friend of Applejack’s?”
Dusk buttered some bread as he replied. “Employee. I just started today.”
“Um… you’re a pegasus.”
“Nothing gets by you, does it?” he replied. Twilight giggled next to him.
“What’re you doing on a farm? Growing stuff isn’t your talent, is it?” she questioned around a mouthful of apple turnover.
He sighed slightly. “Nope. I just needed some work, and I can’t fly, so working here is something I could actually do.”
The filly dropped her fork. “Yo—you can’t fly?”
“Not really, no.”
Scootaloo stared at him with a strange expression on her face.
“What?” he asked, checking his face for stray bits of food.
“I—I’m not really any good at flying either,” she admitted. “I’ve been working at it for years.”
“Really? How old are you?” he asked, taking a large bite from a juicy apple.
“Twelve. Getting close to thirteen, though, and my wings only really started growing out this year.”
Dusk thought back. “I knew a few colts in my class in school who were late bloomers.”
Scootaloo leaned her head onto her hoof, moping. “Yeah, yeah. Everypony says that kind of stuff. Doesn’t make it feel any better. Rainbow Dash says I should work on exercises to build my wing strength up.”
He chuckled. “Big Mac told me pretty much the same thing today. He’s got me working my flank off just so I can keep up around the farm.”
The filly looked up at him, a grin spreading across her face. “I guess we’re kind of in the same boat then, huh?”
“Seems that way, yeah.” He watched her face as she pondered this, seeing familiar emotions on it. He had recognized the look of a pony who had always thought they were the only one in their situation. The two lapsed into silence as they ate their meals. Dusk felt good about talking to the young pony. It seemed like he had given her a sense of something; perhaps it was hope. He felt a small joy at it, lightening his spirit.
Dusk looked across the table at all the ponies happily eating and chatting and, for the first time in weeks, felt a small sense of home. Though he didn’t know most of the ponies beyond their names, it just felt right to be a part of it. This was a kind of feeling he could get used to.