//------------------------------// // Chapter 23: Acquaintanceship // Story: The Trinity of Moons: Mending Shards // by Cloud Ring //------------------------------// ⊛⊛⊛ Gentle Touch felt weird. Not as weird as in sector 12-S, where space itself was all but cracking, where she didn't even know where she was going, and where the shining stars wanted her not to be. No, just a little weird. A little bit out of herself. The two ponies on either side of her were completely real. Solid Line, dark yellow with a coral mane all the way down the back and a gray striped cat on that back; the face motionless, beautiful, golden. Even her huge green eyes, although they were alive, were ashamed of their life, and if she was looking at Gentle, she turned her whole head for it. Almost a foal’s height, but with a thin and long horn, as if taken from another, much taller unicorn, one just as great and majestic as in old pictures.   And Cursory — strict, tall, strong, with lips pursed in suppressed anger, a purple bob slightly disheveled, and subtle pearl flares on the tips of powerful white wings. Compared to them, Gentle herself didn’t feel real. Yes, she saw the thin webs and knew where the Blue Moon was now — still below the horizon, but about to rise. She could speak, too. But all the main decisions for (her) their body were made by the pink one. Pink Drop, as they agreed to call their union. Sharp Cut, if one wants to be closer to the soul of the things. Gentle Touch decided the interplay of their names was actually nice. Pink agreed in her head. Sharp expressed a grumpy satisfaction that the moniker for the union suits herself on her own too. There, in the dream, there were two of them, but here, in reality, they were together and they were one. And so they picked the mark and the appearance to go for in reality together. For the mark, many unsuccessful rituals had to be carried out and many hopes were buried, as even a Moon is unable to bestow a mark on a pony, whether at will or without it.  The Red had a deep and sincere laugh when it heard about this, but did not interfere, only noted that it considers the idea hopeless. As Gentle saw when Pink turned their head for a bit to look at (her) their mark, the Moon — the Red, Gentle Touch was still deeply uncomfortable to refer to the Red so — was wrong. It forgot about Gentle Touch’s glasses. They had to... well, a pony could say ‘sacrifice’ them, though it was not exactly what happened. But they got a mark as a result, so it worked. This in itself was impossible. As well as the Red. As well as the whole dream universe and the long dream itself. Like Pink herself. But Gentle became a part of the merge voluntarily and deliberately, and, overall, did not regret it. It was just inconvenient, sometimes. For example, she hardly realized before how important it is to turn and tilt her ears in order to hear exactly who you want to hear. Solid hummed an unintelligible song as they walked leisurely  — the unicorn said in passing that she recharges her jaunt by it, but not a word could be understood, and  then who even does spells as songs when you can just lend some power from your Moon? — (Sharp) Pink's attention was directed to the conversation with the pegasus. At least the vision was divided between both companions. “...No, no blood is needed! You don’t trust me? I am repeating that for the third time. The third time already! No blood, no lymph, no other fluids, no…” Pink felt silent for a beat, “no meat either. I'll get it myself, if I will be in need of it, no worries here. I need just a mirror. You need just a mirror, as you asked for sweet Gentle to come back. A clean, unclouded mirror. It's that simple. Don’t you have one among the confiscated property at your station?” the pink one bounced irregularly in place, each time almost reaching for Cursory's nose and managing to keep up, although the pegasus had already switched to a trot. Solid Line turned her head to Gentle, winked, and accelerated as well. Gentle thought she must have imagined the wink. “Firstly, I don’t. Secondly, watch less cheap movies. Thirdly, it is not stored with us, and above all that, I will not do robbery. But let it slip for now, why do you need to be with us, and who are you really? This is not the first time I have asked these questions either,” Cursory spoke with a hint of anger, and the same was seen in her web. But at the same time, she was somber and resigned in a sense: in the mood an adult might have after some time around a poorly educated foal, when an adult just has to endure a few tough slices. Solid Line answered without addressing anypony or raising her voice, “I can make a mirror, just find me some silver, or at least tin and copper.” Except for Gentle, nopony heard her. Solid did not repeat the offer, and Gentle clearly saw that she became sad. Pink answered Cursory in a silky whisper — Gentle would never have sustained such a tone, and it often meant a knife is waiting its time, “There were times past, quite very past. Moons were still very young then, and They had a circle of trusted friends, agents of the court. Seven out of the six, lost souls, followed by you all...” Cursory shook her head and muttered, “I still don’t get what is so important about these souls,” but nodded Pink to continue. “Ones for which you and Gentle were sent out, they are still around, beyond and everside, in bits and so delicious pieces, and when gathered together, they could work mi-iracles,” the last word was drawn out much longer than necessary.  Cursory didn't answer right away, but smiled, "So what? Everypony can work miracles. Some miracles I have to suppress.” “No!” Pink jumped even higher, with her hooves almost reaching the level of Cursory’s face, and for a third of a beat she hung in the air. “Real ones, like that, not your aspects, tech and magic.” “Let's say they could. So, what about them?” Cursory was clearly not impressed by this instant of a flight, but her wings fluttered anyway. “What about them? Thirdly, everypony hopes for a miracle, and all-all Moons do, the Red too. Secondly, it will not come to pass,” Pink became stricken with sadness in a ninth of a beat, “or it will not come to pass for everypony. And first of all, I am also from the past, just like you. I know who we are looking for, and you don’t know, you will guess, and then you will find me anyway, and next time I will want, say, your feather. In that special sense.” Cursory blinked, “No, wait, you just said that you need these souls too. Or the Red. That is, you need it anyway. What’s the fee you speak about?” “Did I say something about the fee?” Pink giggled. "I'll just want a feather because it's funny. Or a half of your tail. The left half.” Cursory did not answer, and after two beats Pink continued, “By the way, three Heralds walk into a bar…” “Please, no!” Gentle cried out desperately, but they did not listen to her. They heard, but Cursory smiled - with a notable effort, but still smiled. “No, let it be. Solid, do you mind?” Solid Line shook her head. “...and choose a table…” Gentle, being the vocal minority, could not even sigh. She was forced to hear this story for the seventh — and not the last — time.