Luna’s head peaked above them all thanks to her height, and her wide eyes gawked all around her at the thrashing, writhing, screaming bodies of the mosh. Try as she might, she couldn’t seem to push in any direction and escape. She was trapped—trapped again, their position flanked, and the crunching of metal armor splitting open in the ensuing press, it sounded so vivid. A desperate horn blew for reinforcements which would never make it in time, and a scent like that of copper and iron seemed to fill the air. She shook in place, knowing full well the poor positioning was entirely her fault, and—
“Luna!” Pinkie prodded her over and over, slowly bringing her back into the here and now. Those eyes, wide as saucers, shook as they affixed onto her. Pinkie could scarcely sound above the crowd, so she merely pointed upward, showing Luna the one way the pit couldn’t keep her from reaching. Moments passed as they struggled to stay together despite the playful pushing and shoving, but finally it seemed to sink in.
Luna spread her wings out wide in a whipping motion, throwing back moshers who merely laughed and hooted back. She leapt into the air. Free. She was free.
On stage, the bodies writhed nearly as much as they did below them. Sweat poured from each member of Lined Lips, their torsos shuddering with strain as they screamed their hearts out in unison, unaware of the dark wings spreading before them.
“Up from! The ashes! She rises! Oh angel, dark angel, we loooove youuuu! Deliver! Us from the! Darkness belowwww-oh-ohhhh! In! To! Liiiight!”
Pinkie Pie sprang into the air with a high vertical leap and laid herself out flat to surf the cheering crowd as the tide subsided. She tumbled over the ledge of its more gently lapping shore and darted over to where Hope and Ruby were holding Luna upright on her trembling legs. “Luna? Are you okay?”
“I think so?” she mewled, leaning upon gray and reddish shoulders, her hooves still shaking. But her mind was not done remembering that dark day. Worse images still came to mind, and her stomach twisted up into a tight knot, just like it did so long ago. A belch came up and she clamped her mouth shut, knowing what was going to follow. She wriggled out from her supports and hurriedly made for the restroom once more.
The three young mares exchanged a quick look of concern and confusion combined before they all turned in unison and gave chase. A little ways off, a young colt watched them rush across the floor. His wings ruffled slightly as he peered down into the cup he’d just gotten. “Hey man, I thought you said tonight was an all ages thing.”
“It is.” said the server pensively. He anxiously stood in place, wondering if he should leave his station and see what the trouble was.
The patron gave the punch a nervous sip to confirm. “Alright, sorry to give you a hard time. I’ve gotta get up early to turn in a paper is all.”
“No worries.” he replied before placing a sign upon his counter which read “Back in 5” and making pace across the floor.
“You sure you don’t want someone to hold your hair back?” asked Hope-Heart, pressed against the closed stall. Her head sprang upright when she saw the door swing open to reveal a nervous magenta coated stallion in a black apron.
“No,” called back Luna weakly, “I’ve got a hair tie. But could you girls hold onto my jacket? I’m feeling rather warm.” Before a response came back, she flung it up where it caught on top of the stall door, hanging in wait.
The server cleared his throat. “So sorry to intrude, ladies. Just wanted to make sure everyone is okay here.”
Luna groaned, recognizing his voice from before. “No, no—I mean yes, I’m quite alright, thank you, sir. Something, er, I must have eaten earlier disagreeing with me, th-that’s all.”
“If you’re sure, miss Luna.” he said, door creaking as he hesitated. Looking to her friends, they silently shooed him away, waving their hooves and mouthing the word.
Luna felt another retch coming on, but gulped, dizzy as she wiped the sweat from her brow. “I really appreciate your concern, sir, but I’ll be… just fine. Momentarily…”
“Hey, just part of the job. But I can see you’re in good hooves, so I’ll leave ya be.” He nodded at her friends and turned to go. “You fillies have a good night.”
Once the door closed behind him, Hope took hold of Luna’s jean jacket and turned to Pinkie. “What happened back there?”
“I don’t know, honest. We got into the mosh, and I could tell something was wrong, and, well, I mean, I-I dunno…” She loped backwards until she hit the corner and sank in place. It seemed just as she was trying to make amends, she let her down again.
“Whoa, whoa, I’m not blaming you, okay? Take a slow, deep breath for me.” Hope tossed the jacket over one shoulder and beckoned Pinkie to rejoin them.
“It’s true,” droned Luna, coughing, “that wasn’t your fault back there.” It was all over for now, so Luna finished up and unlatched the stall.
“Oh dear, you still look really pale.” pointed Ruby. She put her hoof to her round little chin and asked: “You sure you’re okay now?”
She put on a wavering smile for them, cold sweat still forming a couple last beads on her brow. A weak laugh came up, and she explained: “I panicked for a moment at the color, but then I recalled the punch, and the bright pigment on my lips.”
Hope tore several paper towels from the roll on the counter by the sinks, passing them along. “Here, there’s still a little red in the corners.” She paused. “Do you… want to talk about what happened?”
“Hrmm.” pondered Luna, looking at her sorry state in the mirror to clean off the last of the red. She seemed so pale, her face almost blended into her mane. Funny, she thought, a tiny laugh burbling forth, it almost looks like I’m disguising myself again. Her eyes glossed over Hope, veering off to see Pinkie, dejected in the corner. “I rather… would not have participated in the mosh pit, had I known it would be so…” She faltered, gaze trailing back to the sad, weak mare who stared back from the mirror. “Intense.”
Hope watched her move to the sink to clean her hooves and splash cold water over her face. “This is all my fault. I dragged you out to this. I never told you what a mosh was.”
“None of us did.” chimed in Ruby. She gripped at her shoulders, wings ruffling pensively. “I was so caught up with the kind of night I wanted to have, I didn’t think…”
Luna patted her face dry. The color was starting to fill back in, much to her relief. Turning about, she said: “Girls, none of you could have predicted this. Even I thought I was over… well, I simply thought myself more resilient.”
“Over what?” pressed Pinkie. She’d stood from her corner and a curiosity burned within. She wasn’t sure at first why she wanted to know so badly, but figured knowing was key to helping. Yeah. That was it.
Luna leaned back against the counter with a long sigh, her head falling back. She counted the spots of the speckled ceiling insulation a moment. “I was still fairly young the first day my father saw fit to put me to battle. I led the vanguard. Poorly.”
Ruby’s eyes went wide and she covered up her mouth. She was lucky to have never seen pitched combat, but her training, loathed it as she had, made her aware enough of what Luna was getting at. “Oh no.”
“And I suppose, well…” She pushed off from the counter and took the first few steps toward the exit. Luna was tired of being here, stuck in the past.
“I-I don’t understand.” squeaked Pinkie. “You’ve handled crowds before.” She wasn’t sure what she had been hoping to hear, but it surely wasn’t this.
“Crowds are fine.” Luna hesitated at the door. “But I suppose the thrashing and screaming and being stuck in the middle… it brought me back to that day, worse than I thought.” She made to reach out for the door, to be done with this trudge down memory lane. A weight landed upon her, then another, and then a third. She gripped tightly at the hooves hugging around her person. It was warm, so she lingered a moment still. Would that it could have lasted the rest of the night.
The door swung open again. That same blond filly from earlier took one look at the scene before her and let go of the door. Embarrassed mares squeezed through the closing door one after the other and nervously rushed past her. “Hey, don’t worry,” she called after Luna in a lighthearted tone, “we’ve all been there, girl.”
Luna started to laugh, thinking on how very wrong she was as they left her behind. It was so bitterly funny. The snicker rose beyond a giggle, grew to a chuckle, and ended up at a hearty guffaw. When she opened her eyes again, she realized how blurry her vision was. Crying. She was crying. But it was still so funny. And the lights above the stage twinkled like stars piercing the dusk as a far more reserved encore played to the much more peaceful crowd. A far calmer sigh escaped her.
“Are you going to be okay?”
Luna held onto the pink hoof upon her shoulder and breathed easy. “I’m getting better all the time.” She glanced around at her friends. “And don’t anyone go blaming yourselves for this, alright? You couldn’t have known. Even I didn’t.”
“I can take us through the backstage again.” offered Hope. “We can get some air, away from the crowd.”
“I think I’d like that.” nodded Luna, graciously taking her jacket back from her. The final set closed to cheers. Red-Heart flirted with the crowd. Onyx thanked them very politely. Cherry Bomb dragged cases of Lined Lips merchandise forth and shouted for an orderly line off to one side of the stage. It all grew so distant as they disappeared into the darkened hall, past the stagehoof.
Cool autumnal air tugged at manes, coats, and scarves. The stars shone through the blanket of darkness. Luna smiled up at the moon, which had no face to glower down upon them with, not since she got back and became fully herself. She rather preferred the pony she got to be without the armor and the crown and the worshippers. Hopefully, she’d get to stay her.
It didn’t take long for Marble to come through the double doors to find them sitting quietly by the band’s carts. She could tell all was not right, but kept in mind her faux pas in blurting out in front of that griffin. Choosing her words carefully, she began to amble forth. But then a maroon figure shoved by.
“You guys didn’t stick around for the encore?” moped Red-Heart, dejected.
“We wanted to, truly.” said Luna, rising to meet her. “I’m most sorry, Red, the crowd simply got to be too much for me, and I had to step out.” She swept her hoof towards the others as they stood too, adding: “And my friends here were gracious enough to keep me company.”
“Is that what that was about?” Marble had seen Luna flee the crowd, but tried to remain calm at the time to avoid suspicion. She approached the group, more mindful of the rude bassist than she had been of her.
Luna started mouthing the sharp remark she’d been preparing just for Marble, but paused. It was the softest she’d seen those flint eyes of hers. Loathe as she was to admit, she was likely the only mare here who could truly understand what she had gone through back inside. She reflexively unfolded her wings when Ruby curtly stepped in front of her.
“Keep your judgments to yourself on this one, mom.” Ruby spat, feathers bristling.
All sound fell away but for the whipping winds of the fall night. Mother and daughter locked eyes. And off to one side, Red pointed from one, to the other, then back again. “Wait, ‘mom?’ How old are you, kid?” She seemed completely ignorant of the confused or indignant stares she got. Blistering forth anyway, she smacked her hoof against her messy black mop, saying: “Oh duh, this was an all ages thing cause it’s a weeknight.”
“It’s none of your business if she’s old enough for you, Red.” said Hope, glaring at her from over the bridge of her nose. All eyes traded one sister for the other.
Red threw her hooves up and shook her head. “Whoa, hey, whoa, I didn’t even say nothin’ to this one, honest.” Bitter memories surged forth of the day Hope had enough of her antics. “Hey, she’s a looker, but I could tell you liked her, so I wasn’t gonna, I promise.”
“I’m sorry,” interject Marble, looming over her, “what did you just say about my daughter?”
“That she seems very lovely, ma’am.” squeaked Red, her mouth tightening. The speed with which she was able to blurt this response made it seem as though this was hardly the first time she’d had to say that to a parent.
“Gosh darn it, Red.” whined Hope. She backed away, slowly at first, mortified as the scene she’d tried to avoid unfolded before her and just kept going on and on. But she couldn’t let them see if she’d start to cry, so she turned about and dashed down the street.
“Aw, Hope, no.” called Red-Heart. She started after her, hesitating just long enough to throw a large shirt at Luna. “Ah, Luna, the band and I wanted to give you this free shirt as an honorary member, yadda, yadda, it was nice meeting you, bye!” She gave chase, disappearing around the same corner Hope had taken.
Marble started to say something, but stopped when she saw her daughter plunk down on the cobbles and bury her face into her hooves. She moved to be the first one to reach out to her, cutting Luna off. “Sweetie.”
Ruby jerked away from her, hunching down harder to growl out a scream into her hooves. The face which arose from them was a ruddy snarl. “Ugh, you are the worst! Why don’t you go back to Canterlot already and let me live my life?”
Before Marble could say anything to that, she watched Ruby clamber to her hooves and scurry off, taking the opposite corner. She let out a resigned sigh, turning to Luna. “I… hate to ask this of you, my lady. But might I get the library key from you? She’ll… need to be let in.”
Luna wrested them from her jacket pocket and tossed them with a flick of her horn. “I trust you, Marble. Just go easy on her, will you?”
“Of course.” came a reply in a defeated tone, especially for one usually so high and mighty. All the same, she resigned herself to fate and sped away on heavy hooves.
Pinkie and Luna were left there, alone. They gawked at the intersection a moment longer before turning to look at one another. Pinkie spoke up first. “Wow.”
“Yeah?” replied Luna, her brows arched high enough to support a bridge.
“No. That was it. Just wow.” She idly smoothed down some of the loose locks that had curled up throughout the night.
Luna unfurled the shirt to have a look. It was quite nice. Probably a perfect fit to boot. Though, she was undecided on how close she wanted to keep a reminder of the night she’d just had; so she tossed it over one shoulder and said: “I suppose I’d better start for home as well. Putting it off won’t make it any less awkward.”
Pinkie pondered. “Yeah, that tall one said the library?” She scratched at her head, peering up at her. “Those two are staying with you?”
“It certainly wasn’t my decision.” huffed Luna, ambling towards the crossroads. “My sister seems to think I need protection.”
“Protection?” balked Pinkie, shuffling along beside her. “That’s crazy talk. You’re plenty capable of defending yourself.”
Luna paused a second, but put her next hoof forward to keep pace. It was thankful Pinkie hadn’t asked her what it was she might need to defend against. That filly could be plenty savvy when she wanted to. But the trick was she had to want to be. “Thank you, my sentiments exactly. Of course, I know I didn’t seem it back there, but you’re witness to my bravery, aye?”
On they went, idly chatting as they maintained a sleepy pace. Luna always did find Pinkie so easy to talk to. In her she found no pressure to perform the best pony all else might expect of her. She could simply be. It was a quality that made her such a good friend. And being the best of friends, as she had so easily fallen into over summer, it was the perfect foundation for… for…
For all the chirping of crickets and little laughs they shared along the way, Luna hadn’t even realized she was already fast approaching home. She peeked down as Pinkie continued her story, oblivious as she herself had been that this should end so soon. Part of her wished it wouldn’t. But deeper still, she knew it should. So when her stoop moved to pass her by, she stepped up onto it, lingering at her door.
Pinkie continued on a moment longer, before realizing she had left Luna behind. Whirling around, she saw why. She hesitated, several paces away, growing quiet.
“I think it’s time to part ways for the night, Pinkie.” she told her, tall upon the corner of the low wooden steps, as though they were the deck boards of a ship parting from the bay. Dull, warm light from within bathed her from behind, beckoning onward.
Pinkie approached in a hush. “Yeah, it’s getting late. I had a good time.” Her shuffling hoof knocked a loose pebble. “Well. A time.”
“Yeah, I think I’m going to avoid big events for a time.” said Luna, looking off. Her recollection was as unfortunate as it was fond. “Between the Summer Sun, your welcome party for Gilda, the gala, now this…” She chuckled dryly. “Seems I have bad luck with celebration.”
“That’s a shame.” mused Pinkie. She stood a little taller and smiled a little brighter. “As an expert party thrower, I’d love to break your bad streak.”
“My, my,” said Luna, craning slightly for her, “is that so? Well, I suppose this night wasn’t all bad.”
Pinkie tentatively rose onto the first step, her most impatient hoof reaching for the second. “Yeah?”
“It certainly had a lot of what I really did not need in my life right now.” She smiled, meeting her eye-to-eye, blue-to-blue. “But it also had some of what I did need.”
A tiny, insistent voice at the back of Pinkie’s mind urged her on. She gulped, uncertain, so on it pushed again. She let her lower lip hang open, and eyes still met. On the urge pushed. She slowly moved her face closer to Luna’s. The thudding of her heart felt like it was pounding throughout her entire nervous frame.
Luna pulled away, surprised. “Um. What are you doing?”
Pinkie’s eyes widened and she swallowed down her beating heart as quick as she could. “O-oh, I was just, I mean, I thought—”
“Oh, no, I am so sorry if I gave you the wrong idea just now.” Luna covered up her mouth and her ears drooped. “I rather meant that I was glad you were willing to make amends. I… I’m sorry, I just don’t think we’re at a point yet where we should… do that.”
“No,” blurted Pinkie with a huge, nervous smile, “you are totally right, haha, I don’t know what I was thinking, anyway, I’m just gonna go now, okay bye see you later I love you.”
Luna fumbled for words, unable to find any before Pinkie could hurry off. She groaned, giving her forehead a quick smack. Briefly, very briefly, she considered flying after her. But what would she even say? Sorry for seeming like everything was okay now and that we could kiss.
She shook her head and sluggishly pulled around for the door. Inside, the light came from her desk lamp, where she kept it by the window. And as she closed the door and locked it shut, a pale, but sturdy figure timidly rose to peek over, making sure it was her.
“Welcome home.” droned Marble. “I… decided it best I move my bedroll down here for the night. Hope you don’t mind.”
Removing her jacket, Luna hung it over the opposite shoulder to her new shirt. She gently laid them over the desk as she drew closer. “I think that might be a wise call for now.” She glanced over at the stairs. “You’re going to have to talk with her eventually, though.”
“In the morning,” Marble told her, leaning upon the counter, “when she’s calmer.”
Luna watched her trace the knots in the wood grain of her desk. She wondered about how much intervening she ought to do here. After a moment of chewing her lip, she told: “She doesn’t want to be a knight captain like you. You do know this, right?”
Marble’s hoof fell limp upon the surface between them. She finally met her eyes, saying: “That’s just it. She did when she was younger.”
That caught Luna off guard. She couldn’t help but press. “Really now?”
“Listen,” sighed Marble, losing her wandering gaze once more, “I won’t burden my charge with the details. I’m supposed to be here for you, not the other way around.”
“You’re not a burden.” said Luna, patting her hoof. She snickered, adding: “True, you two did rather impose upon me to quarter you for your job. But your emotions are not this loathsome burden. They are what make us whole.”
“I just wish they came easier.” She slid her hoof away from Luna’s touch. She took a moment to close her eyes and draw breath, as though it might be her last. Finally, she looked her in the eye again and said: “When Ruby’s father left us, she cried for days. And when the tears wouldn’t stop, she begged me to make her strong like me. She said she never wanted to shed another tear again. So… I started training her the next day. And now here we are.”
“Oh, Marble.” Luna gently shook her head. She made sure to keep her hooves off as she approached a little closer. “Strength isn’t about the absence of weakness. Sometimes, it’s about knowing who you can be vulnerable with, and facing them anyway.” She turned her new shirt over to look at the Line Lips logo. “Back there, in that crowd, I had a pretty big lapse in strength. But I had friends nearby who cared.”
Marble simply grunted, her jaw stiff.
“Did you… not cry at all for your lost lover?” Luna tried to maintain an easy tone, so as not to press too hard. She wanted Marble to feel free to quit this at any point. “Or, rather, did you simply not cry in front of Ruby?”
Again, she didn’t respond.
“It’s okay to cry.” said Luna, even if she didn’t feel like admitting how often she had. “It’s okay for loved ones to see you cry. I know you probably meant to be strong for her. Firmness can be good at times. But even a weapon, if too rigid, will snap before it bends.” Luna felt at the shirt some more, how the fabric folded in on itself so easily.
“She certainly snapped at me. Though I probably deserved that.” Raising her head up high once more, Marble’s cold flint eyes stared off in the distance at nothing in particular. “I guess it’s ironic. I tried to make her strong like me, and she only felt weaker for it. Would that I had not been so stubborn, I might have seen it sooner.”
“You might not be able to take that back. But you can certainly try to be better going forward.” Luna took up her things and turned to leave her. “Tomorrow is a new day. You’ll get to try again.” She lingered a moment. “Goodnight, Marble.”
“I find your little font of wisdom both infuriating and humbling.” She waited until Luna slowly craned her head about. From the shadows of the stairwell, lit from beneath by the far lamp as she was, she looked every bit the dark angel, glaring down from on high in a cloud of storm. “Tell me, Luna. You speak a great deal on friendship.”
“I suppose I do.”
“What about us, then? Are friends, you and I?”
She let the question linger a moment. It hung heavy on the air as she turned to straighten, to be more upright. Her head deeper in shadow, blue eyes punched through the dark when at last she spoke. “I let flow my ‘infuriating little font of wisdom’ more for Ruby’s sake than yours. I’ll admit that, out of respect.”
For the first time in a long while, Marble let her smile widen. Her teeth flashed in the warm light of the weak yellow bulb. “Probably more than I deserve. Thank you, Luna.”
“Goodnight now, Marble.” At last, she left her, ascending into the dark. The door, thankfully, had not been locked by Ruby in a fit of frustration. No light was on within; only the pale moon guided her steps. The girl in question stirred at the foot of her bed at the sound of the door closing.
Luna waited a moment. When Ruby turned about, her eyes were closed completely shut. She gaped, jaw crooked and slack, confounded at how she could fall right to sleep so quickly, after all that. Another part of her mused with relief that she only had to play the “infuriating font” to one member of the duo tonight. And yet, even as she thought on this, the sight of her own bed stood out to her. How those pink sheets beckoned her on, her limbs growing heavy and sluggish, great creaking winches whining at the manipulation of long-standing, black-iron castle gates. She lied down, promising herself it would be just for a moment. Just a moment to breathe nice and easy and let the events of the night sink off and away. Her breathing became quite relaxed indeed, as she dozed right off.
Pinkie Pie had only made it about halfway home before losing herself down an alleyway. Where she was, exactly, who knew and who cared? There were too many folks on the street and she didn’t want them to see her, not like this. Halfway down, there sat a box. And she sat herself upon it, lurching heavily to rest her head in her hooves. She sighed.
What was I thinking back there? she thought. She needs more time, more space. I need to do more than just dance with her to make up for everything. And I may have just blown it, big time. I’m so stupid.
“Wow,” cooed an all too familiar voice, “you can say that again.” It was so, so very, painfully familiar because it was her voice. And that’s why Pinkie jumped with a start. Breath hissing through gritted teeth, her eyes darted around. The alley was empty, save for her. Her legs went stiff. This wasn’t right. She looked all around again. It had to be some trick.
“Ugh, I’m so fed up with this. Whoever you are… whatever you are, come out and face me, already!” She panted, her breath hot on the cold night air, practically steaming. “S-so much fun, taunting me from your little hiding spot, huh?” Snarling like a wolf, she grabbed the crate she’d rested on and tossed it aside with a shout. It smashed against the cobbles, splinters and a couple rusty nails scattering further down into the dark abyss, where the light of street lamps dared not touch.
“Wow, such a temper, Pinkie. No wonder your friends all keep their distance.” The voice giggled, and the noise of it grated against Pinkie’s very soul. It was her own laugh, she knew it was. She’d heard it so much, usually after hearing the delivery to one of her own jokes. Now the expression, the purity of joy she felt giving it unto others, shook her to her very core. She shuddered, her eyes clamping shut until the laugh faded.
“Wh… what do you know about my friends?” Her knees felt weak. Her head hung lower, limp magenta locks brushing against the dirt and the cobbles.
“Why, they all seem to have abandoned you.” spoke the darkness, growing louder, more oppressive. “How cruel, and all over one little mistake, too.”
Pinkie wasn’t sure what she hated more: that she’d finally cracked, or that this extra voice of hers said aloud things she regretted having actually thought. She tried to push upright, to stand tall against it. “It wasn’t little. And… well, they don’t owe me their time, and, and… Rainbow reached out to me.”
“Ohhhhhh,” cooed her voice, “good old Rainbow, dragging you out because she needed someone to help her avoid going to a concert all alone like a total loser. Wow! What a great pal!”
Her lip quivered. Was the shade of the alley always this dark? Had she somehow gone further in? Was there something there in the dark with her? She gulped. “It isn’t like that.”
“Ha, just like it ‘wasn’t like that’ back there?”
Pinkie’s heart beat faster, faster. She stared long into the abyss as it seemed to grow. Something was there. Distant, very distant, it couldn’t be, but it was, she was sure of it, she saw a pair of blank, white eyes, staring back, ublinking. And yet, she couldn’t turn away from them. And they seemed to know it, too. She heard her own laugh again, like knives on a chalkboard. She closed her eyes up tight, refusing to see. “Don’t. Please.”
“Don’t what, Pinkie? Don’t point out how she led you on like that? How she tugged on your strings and played you like a fool?”
Something made Pinkie look. It forced her to open her eyes. Those other eyes were closer, and smiling now. How she wanted to be anywhere else but here, to turn tail and run. She wasn’t some centuries wizened wizard like the mare she admired, she couldn’t fling magic at the monsters in the dark and put them down. Her legs refused to lift. In fact, they only got weaker. Down on her knees, Pinkie shook her head, and the pale white smile which punched through the inky black all around it was only all the closer still. Sad, sorry essence flowed from the eyes, like ever-flowing fonts of candle wax, yet all the same it smiled on as it loomed closer without moving, closer still, so very painfully happy to see her, to not be alone any longer.
“But don’t worry.” it told her sweetly, still stealing her voice. “We’ll show her. We’ll show them all.”
Closer, and closer, and closer still the eyes and the smile and the tears, all the tears, a millennia of them flowing out onto a sea of white, white which eroded away all the black of the dark, empty, loneliness of it all. And then nothing. She was whole. Alone no longer. Warmth finally emanated from within again. Good. It felt good. And nice, and cozy, and… right. So she smiled.