//------------------------------//
// Grey 
// Story: Colors 
// by Boltstrike58 
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Grey.

A simple color. One that was halfway between the extremes of black and white. Additionally, grey was considered one of the blandest in the endless spectrum. It shouldn't have caused such a reaction in Twilight. Yet, the color grey carried many connotations. One of which was aging.

Twilight couldn't help but stare. It shouldn't have been there. It was an aberration of nature, an evil phenomenon that couldn't exist. Yet, no matter what she thought, there it was. A single, long grey streak, extending down the length of Rarity's mane. A drop in the sea of vibrant purple. She almost didn't notice it, and might've gone the whole day without doing so, had the unicorn not tossed her mane  the way she always did, exposing the streak.

Twilight's jaw didn't drop, but her mouth was open. She stared unblinking at the sight, terrified of saying anything. Because if she did acknowledge it, that would mean it was real, not some stress-induced hallucination. Nopony else had said anything, so that had to be the explanation. Her brain struggled to come up with some kind of excuse for her actions, or something to stop it from existing, as Rainbow and Applejack were starting to stare at her.

Finally, Rarity finished her conversation with Fluttershy and Pinkie, and turned to Twilight. She opened her mouth, presumably asking a question. But Twilight couldn't hear anything. That grey streak consumed every neuron of her brain, leaving her incapable of anything. Rarity followed Twilight's gaze, her eyes landing on her own mane. Understanding then dawned on the unicorn, and she chuckled a bit. Twilight had to bite her tongue to stop herself from yelling, from screaming at Rarity that this was no laughing matter.

"Oh, you noticed that, darling!" she giggled. "It is kind of a shock, isn't it?"

Twilight swallowed. That did it. This wasn't some twisted nightmare. It was real. Rarity really was going grey. A few years ago, Twilight would've broken down and sobbed in terror at the reality she was faced with. Nowadays, she'd gained more self-control. Frantic, she forced the terror down into the bottom of her stomach.  

"I, er..." she stumbled over her words, "I just didn't expect it. I thought you would've covered it up. I know how attached you are to your mane."

"I considered it," Rarity admitted, "but ultimately, I decided I liked the look. Besides, embracing one's age is so in style right now."

Twilight had to remind herself to keep taking deep breaths. If she didn't, she knew she'd break down in front of her friends, and that would lead to the most uncomfortable conversation of her life. When she became an alicorn, she hadn't thought about the implications for her age. Celestia and Luna weren't truly immortal, they'd told her so, but they had lived for over one-thousand years. Twilight's face hadn't changed in the years since she'd earned her wings, but she hadn't paid it any heed. Now, looking at Rarity's change, Twilight couldn't deny the evidence in front of her.

She was going to outlive them. She was going to outlive...her.

The others had descended into more discussions, ranging from Rainbow and Applejack's relationship to Pinkie's pregnancy. Twilight could only look down at the floor, feeling dead inside. She was lucky Spike was away on business, or he'd have called attention to her, and she'd have been forced to confess exactly what was going on in her head. Which was, of course, a nervous breakdown.





Usually, journaling was a comforting activity for Twilight. It allowed her to review the day's events and commit any important details to memory. Even on bad days, she used it to recall what had gone wrong, and learn from it, so she wouldn't repeat the same mistakes. Today, however, it brought none of those benefits.  

Twilight couldn't focus enough to string together two coherent thoughts. Her entire body felt like it had shut down from today's revelation. All she could see was that grey, dull streak, flowing through Rarity's mane, one that would soon spread, erasing all of the beautiful purple that had once been there. Twilight felt so numb she couldn't even cry. She'd been absentmindedly writing with her quill, her magic on autopilot, scratching away at the journal.

Swallowing, Twilight looked down at the journal, looking at what she'd written. To her surprise, she'd managed to actually write one phrase repeatedly, in irregular rows across the page.

I never told her.

Those four words, spread across the pages like a condemning curse, caused another hole to form in Twilight's stomach. Her heart had broadcast its thoughts out through her writing, forcing her to confront the truth she hadn't been sure about.

Part of her briefly wondered if she'd be having these thoughts if Rarity hadn't been the first one to show signs. It was possible she wouldn't be, but ultimately, it didn't matter. Rarity was the one. The unicorn herself didn't seem to be concerned over it. In a way, that made it worse. Her body was slowly decaying, and she didn't even care. Twilight felt like she was wasting away internally just rom the thought.  

Quickly, the alicorn's mind began racing, looking for solutions. Surely there had to be some experimental reverse-aging spell, right? Even if there wasn't, maybe she could simply stop the process? If they all came together, perhaps there was enough residual magic from the Elements left in the group that they could collectively stop themselves from aging, at least for a while? What if she turned them all into alicorns? Or Discord could—

Twilight pushed those thoughts out of her head. She was just digging herself into a pit of denial. If she went down that road, it would be the Want-It, Need-It incident all over again. Or worse. She took a deep breath and held it in for several seconds before releasing it, then repeated the action a couple of times. She wasn't some all powerful goddess pony like she used to imagine Celestia was. This wasn't something she could "fix."

Despondent, Twilight looked back down at her journal, at the four-word phrase inscribed all over the page. Why had she never made a move? She supposed she didn't want to jeopardize her friendships, or create any unnecessary drama. Also, she'd been afraid of breaking Spike's heart if he saw the two of them together.  

With a sigh, Twilight lit up her horn, flipping her journal closed. She couldn't stop time, but maybe she could correct one mistake.