//------------------------------// // Chapter 32 - The Trepidation // Story: The Stereotypical Necromancer // by JinxTJL //------------------------------// "So, how come we left so fast? I've been around Twilight long enough to recognize a major freakout when I see it, and you were showing all the signs." Light Flow was confused. Firstly, the insinuation that he was having a 'major freakout' was confusing in its own right, as well as a bit insulting. He hadn't really felt like he was freaking out much at all, not any more than usual at least. Sure, his heart was pounding and his hooves felt clammy, and he had hurried them away from the farm rather quickly; but was it so farfetched to just buy into whatever excuse he had made? Well, he might have answered his own question there. He felt a sudden tug at the back of his mane, and a clambering weight pressed itself against the back of his neck. He let out a suffering sigh through his nose as his head dipped slightly from the increased burden. Spike could stand to be a little more considerate about climbing around his body, especially after he had already hit his horn earlier. Sure, that was his own fault; but still... "Are you ignoring me again, Light? Come on dude, I know you didn't just want to go find Twilight. What's the deal?" Okay, Spike clearly saw through his bluff as easily as anypony with ears might've. That wasn't really anything to be shocked about, though he could stand to be a little more subtle. Calling somepony out on their lie as soon as possible was just bad form. It didn't allow any time for rumination, or pondering, or contemplation; or any other big word that meant thinking. No time to think about whether or not he regretted lying. He shook his head roughly to detach his passive-aggressor, and turned his head around from the path. "For your information, I happen to be very focused on finding Twilight." He swung his head back around and gave an audibly disdainful sniff. "I bet she's very concerned about you, you know. Probably fraught with worry over where you might be. Is it so wrong to want to ease her fears as soon as possible?" Yeah, he was piling it on extra thick; but did it really matter if it got Spike off his back for just a second? Metaphorically. Spike's weight shifted back, and he let an aggravated sigh into the air. "Jeez, you don't have to give me the third degree here. I'll lay off, alright?" His voice lowered to a mutter, and he felt two scaly masses come down on his rear as Spike's weight shifted again. "I was just asking..." With Spike sprawled out over his back, he could only let out another drawn-out sigh. Now that the bittersweet scent of ripe apples was slowly dissipating on the breeze behind them, he could feel the strange fear draining from his hooves. The adrenaline that came from the look the filly had given him had filled his veins long enough for an escape, but now the ordeal was behind him, and he could begin to relax. Though relaxing wasn't exactly the foremost thought in his mind at the moment. He was puzzling furiously, trying desperately to figure out the cause of his sudden desire to flee from the farm, though he was still no closer to an answer. The logic just wasn't matching up in his head, no matter how he looked at it. That filly knew him. That filly loved him. She was faintly familiar to his addled mind, and he had no doubt they shared many moments that were just ripe for recollection. If he had stayed there, he would have remembered. It was a foregone conclusion, and his logic was unassailable. So why had he left? If his clear reasoning was a pretty glass mirror, the invasive question was a heavy rock. The situation should have played out beautifully. Spike would have went on his way to find Twilight as they exchanged pleasant goodbyes. The filly may have been somewhat annoying, but she wasn't unbearable; and he had no doubt it wouldn't take long to adjust himself to her personality. They could have spent the day together, doing whatever it was that she liked to do. Probably something physical, unfortunately. Triggers were everywhere in random conversation, and the pieces of his scattered mind would have found their way back to him in no time at all under such circumstances. By the time evening rolled around, he probably would have been himself again. He swallowed heavily as a thick lump rose in his throat, and his next hoofstep faltered as he paused momentarily to shake off the chill in his withers. Hesitation. Trepidation. Uncertainty. Why did the thought of getting his memory back scare him? His ears folded back on his head of their own volition, and he pointedly focused his blurring vision on the path ahead of him. The worn dirt path he was walking on was really very interesting. He hadn't yet taken the time to appreciate the subtle marks his hooves left in the dust as he passed, and that was a crying shame. It was nearly poetic, really. Every pony who ever walked this path left their own mark on it. Big or small, hard or soft; the hooves that tread upon it were insignificant in the face of the larger matter. They were all the same deep down inside, no matter the mark they left. All that mattered was the simple act of leaving one in the first place. That was very deep, very distracting. He was a master of losing the point, he was. What should he think about next? Should he attempt to pinpoint the exact shade and hue of the brown coloring of the path? No, that was dumb, and he didn't know enough about colors anyway. The trees placed randomly outside the perimeter of the path were probably full of useless material, though. He could fill the next hundred minutes just describing them. He turned his eyes on one particular tree just ahead of them that was shaking for some odd reason. They were all shaking, actually. It was probably normal, then. Who was he to question shaking trees? Some nobody that couldn't even remember his name without help, that's who. No room for criticism at all. Nature could do whatever it wanted, as long as it remained distantly interesting enough to distract himself. Now, even though it was shaking and somewhat blurry, something rather interesting that he had noticed was the strange off-set not commonly observed in its branches. It wasn't something he could recall seeing- "Hey... Light Flow?" Spike was calling his name and shaking his withers again, like he always did when he was having fun. Couldn't Spike just leave him to his engineered madness? Reality wasn't an especially fun place for him at the moment. He turned his eyes from the rapidly blurring tree that was just about passing them anyway, and lowered his head to stare at the ground. "Yeah Spike?" His scratchy voice came as a surprise. He didn't feel particularly thirsty, though he supposed he couldn't actually remember having anything to drink since he woke up. He should probably find something to drink when they got into town. Speaking of, shouldn't they be there by now? How long had they been walking, hours? He didn't remember the path being that long. He was so caught up trying to remember whether it was still the day of the big celebration, he nearly missed the measured tone in Spike's strangely lilted response. "I'm... were.. are you.. crying?" The uncharacteristic hesitation from the normally sure-footed dragon caught him so off guard, he almost forgot to actually process the question. When the meaning finally trickled in through the tap of his awareness, a small gasp formed on his lips before he could stop it. Reality crashed into his dream of normalcy with a heavy step, and he could suddenly feel the warm trails of salty water that had caught in his mouth. He swallowed through the dry taste that he hadn't realized had accumulated in his throat, and his next step on the path nearly slipped out from under him. He was shaking. The weight on his back felt heavier than before as Spike's concern-laden tone returned to fill his ears. "You... I know you said you were okay earlier, and... I guess I didn't really believe you; but now I'm really starting to get worried!" His skin pricked slightly as Spike grabbed two tight handfuls of his fur in his claws. "I think.. when we get back to town.. I think it would be best if you went and got-" "No!" The shout came from his mouth before he could even think to form the noise, and the stunned silence that followed was nearly deafening. "No.." His next denial came out softer, though it was a bit breathless as he suddenly found his chest very tight. Spike was about to suggest he seek help, probably from a doctor or a psychiatrist or something. That was not what he wanted. Their progress had completely stopped now, though it was undeniably his own fault. His eyes rose from their place on the ground to stare forlornly at the sight of the school building on the horizon. They wouldn't be making their way back until they sorted this issue out. But... what to say? Spike was right, there was no question. He was suffering from a large problem that was hurting him badly, and he needed professional help. It wasn't fair to anypony or anydragon to pretend like he was fine. He was not about to even consider seeing a professional, though; which rather readily cut off that particular avenue of potential. Whatever solution he needed to guide them towards, it had to be strictly personal. Maybe it was time to spill the secret. Spike was more than he deserved, really; with the way he was stubbornly sticking though a complete stranger's madness just because they had slapped a label on their quickly formed relationship. Spike deserved to know. He wasn't okay, and Spike deserved to know that. "I'm... Spike, I'm not really sure how to say this, but..." How to tell him, though? More tact was required than simply dumping the word 'amnesia' on him. Should he summarize what he could remember? Should he tell him about the static, and the voices? Should he tell him about the- You will not tell. This was a bad idea, he shouldn't tell him. "...you're right." The admission was unpleasant on his tongue, though not for what it was. He wasn't afraid to submit for his approval of others. When they were actually right, that is. The problem came from what he was going to say next. "I'm not okay, and you're right: I should find help. After we find Twilight, I... I'll get help. I will." The lies dripped from his mouth like poison, and he couldn't help but feel somewhat deadened to the world as he blatantly fed his lies to his friend that had stuck by him through his amnesia. "I promise." His heart hurt. Spike was quiet for a while, though he couldn't quite bring himself to start down the path again in the interim. He could feel the shiny veneer of his pretty words begin to crack in the suffocating silence, and he was suddenly glad for Spike's position on his back. Who knew what was going on with either of their faces. "...Okay." Spike's affirmation came as an immense relief, and he could physically feel more tension than was safe slough off from his shoulders. He didn't know what that would tell Spike, and he didn't really care either. "I.. believe you; or, I guess.. I want to believe you. Or maybe I just want to believe that you wouldn't hide the truth that much..." Spike's voice sounded so much quieter than it usually did, and the sheer sound of the muted hope in his tone stuck sharply into his mind. He swallowed deeply to clear the dryness building in his throat as Spike continued. "If you say you'll get help for whatever problem you have, then I'll take you at your word; and I won't ask what's wrong either, because it sounds like you don't really want to tell me." Spike's firm grip on his fur that they had both seemingly forgotten about loosened, and his tone raised in the wake of his reassurance. "After all, what're friends for?" The unintentional blow knocked the wind out of him for a moment, and he breathed deeply as he struggled to recover. He tried not to let it show on his body, but he must have failed somehow. Spike's hand came to rest on the back of his neck, and his voice filled with concern again. "Light? Are you, er... are you okay?" Oh sure Spike, he was only just coping with a dagger stabbed directly into his heart. Really, he probably deserved it, what with the lies and all. If he could just have a moment to himself to bleed to death, everything would be fair and fine in no time! Okay, the rhetoric wasn't helping. Really though, he was fine. Sure, he was rapidly losing any sort of moral integrity he may not have even had in the first place. Sure, he was consciously keeping a groundbreaking secret from the only friend he could remember having. Sure, that friend may not even believe his lies. Sure, that friend was probably planning to ditch him the first chance he got. Those things weren't too bad, though he had a funny feeling like he should start screaming. Wait, before he spiraled anymore: how long had he been thinking? Had he ever replied? Was Spike still waiting for an answer?! Horsefeathers, of all the times to get distracted! Now he was yelling at himself in his head. He was beginning to think he may not have been all there even before he lost his memory. "I.. um.. yeah. I'm.. I'm alright, Spike. I'm just.. glad you understand, I guess." Indecisiveness had a firm grip on his throat, and he could barely find the strength to string together even the most basic of platitudes. He screwed his eyes shut as the mocking sight of the brightly colored schoolhouse became too much to bear. He barely registered a downcast, single-word reply from Spike before his eyes opened again to the sight of the path beneath his hooves. The sound of blood rushing in his ears was beginning to unnerve him, and a familiar energy was building up in his hooves. He really couldn't escape from Spike without also completely losing him as a friend, though; so getting back on track was probably the next best thing. Maybe that would satisfy his weird escapism complex. His hooves felt like rocks when he moved them, though he did his best to ignore the limp feeling. He couldn't exactly put a brave face on as he went, so he just forced himself to focus on something besides his failing friendship or his mental state. Their plan was a decent place to start. "So!" His opener was filled with far more fake enthusiasm than he'd meant to force into it, and he barely stopped himself from cringing away from the sound of his own voice. "...So, uh.. What does the checklist say about where Twilight may have gone next?" It may have been too soon to say anything, but the little noises of Spike shuffling around on his back would have driven him crazier if he hadn't. Spike, at the very least, did not begrudge him the effort; since he could clearly hear the crinkling sound of him rustling around in his pack. Maybe Spike wasn't as mad at him as he'd thought? Maybe he really bought into his lie, and he didn't actually suspect him of any wrongdoing? A pretty thought. A small exclamation made its way over his withers, and his ears stood on end as he tried to make out the jumbled mutters of whatever Spike was reading. His efforts were fruitless, however; as Spike quickly surprised him by suddenly speaking up. "The Official Overseer's Checklist says that Twilight and I were supposed to check up with the captain of the local weather team." There was a small pause as more subtle papery noises filled his ears. "A pegasus, obviously. It says her name is... Rainbow Dash?" Spike's voice grew louder as he presumably looked up from the paper, which was probably needed considering all the steam filling his ears. "You heard of her?" He hadn't actually, which made the fire burning hotly in his heart somewhat strange. A twitch made itself unwelcome in his eye, which he did his best to suppress with only moderate success. His hooves felt hot and restless, though at least he could burn that energy just by turning his steps to stomps. His teeth ground against themselves independent of his thought process, and he could barely manage to squeeze his words through them. "No. I haven't." Spike must have understood his emotions better than he did, because his reply was a special mix of careful and patient that he appreciated very much. "...Okay. Maybe we'll just skip going to see-" "She's just wasting her potential!" The snarl that suddenly tore messily from his mouth was full of an emotion he couldn't even begin to try to understand, and he had to stop his barely-begun gait to catch his suddenly absent breath. Now neither of them understood what was happening, because Spike's next response was just a mumbled noise of confusion. He could relate, really. The name 'Rainbow Dash' was actually ringing quite a few bells, unfortunately. It wasn't something he was about to share with Spike, but it seemed as if he had a history with the captain of the weather team. A history that was apparently very emotionally tumultuous. A rainbow mane, because of course she of all ponies would have the most straight forward name in Equestria. A sky blue coat, which was quite fetching; but unfortunately very well suited for hiding in plain sight. Tight, toned muscles, because she practically worshipped the art of flying; but she just used it all for weather work and stupid, dumb pranks. Respect. Anger. Fear. Disappointment. Was that...? Had he...? A warm feeling. Far cooler than the nearly mind-numbing haze of fury, though strangely nestled right up against it. He may have nursed a crush on her for a time. Wow, that was embarrassing and shameful for more reasons he couldn't parse. He didn't want to think about her anymore. "What's next on the list after that?" The question was short and bitter, but it was basically all he could do to stop himself from screaming in rage. He nearly had the inspiration to make a 'hot and bothered' joke to himself, but even thinking about it was giving it more attention than it deserved. Spike didn't answer for a moment, likely waiting to make sure he didn't actually explode. "Um. We're- we were supposed to go to the Town Hall and check on the decorations for the opening ceremony, but I don't think-" The end of Spike's sentence rose into a formless yelp as he suddenly broke out into a near-gallop. "Great! Let's go!" Scaly claws scratched somewhat painfully for a grip on his coat, but he ignored them. His breath was hot in his mouth, and the sudden energy surging through his veins reminded him that he hadn't moved at anything faster than a trot since he woke up. Or maybe ever, judging by how much his body ached already. That didn't matter, though. The schoolhouse was quickly rising up shortly ahead of them, and he narrowed his sight in on the large building sitting in the center of the approaching town. It wasn't so much a guess as it was intuition and faded memory, but he was fairly certain it was the Town Hall. The wind stung viciously at his eyes, but the pain was practically negligible. If he ran fast enough, he was certain he could just leave everything behind on that stupid dirt path. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- He regretted running. He regretted the fact that running was a thing that was ever invented. "Dude, have you ever run before?" He pointedly ignored the sage counsel of his loyal dragon friend and his mimicry of his own thought process, and settled instead on staring into the small river running just below them. It probably wasn't good that he could count the sweat drops as they made impact with its surface, but whatever. He wheezed out another painful breath as he buried his face into the crook of his hoof. He was such an idiot. It had been more than a bit obvious that he was not an athletic pony. His less-than-spectacular stamina aside, the upper limit of his carrying capacity was a baby dragon; and that spoke more volumes than he would likely be able to carry. He had cleared the dirt path at least, and he had made it some distance into Ponyville, sure; but it wasn't an incredibly large town. Their destination had been less than a few yards from the edge they had approached from, and he couldn't even make it that far. He had staggered into the town's center with far less aplomb than he had carried them there, and promptly collapsed on his side. Spike had taken a knock to his head, though he had kindly assured him of his general sturdiness through whatever apologies he had managed to throw while breathless on the ground. The experience was wholly embarrassing in the worst of ways, and Spike had allowed him a while to recuperate on a nearby bridge overlooking a stream. He was still waiting just next to him, bless his flaming little heart. He had half-expected the dragon to ditch him as soon as his back was turned, but he had stuck around for some reason. Another point towards gullibility. Wow, that was kind of mean. What was wrong with him? Another suffering groan made its way out from the confines of his hoof, though the physical pain had all but stopped at this point. He felt a reassuring hand place itself on his lower back, and he breathed in a sigh through his nose. His head slowly raised amidst another groan that hadn't even been entirely intentional. His eyes swept across the small river running gently against the edge of town, and came to rest momentarily on the building sitting roughly parallel with the side of Town Hall. The sign featuring a pony with a long flowing mane was nearly eye-catching, but not enough to capture any sort of real interest. Sitting just next to it was, strangely enough, what appeared to be a joke store. It looked like it, at least. Why else would a building be shaped like a jester's hat? A spa next to a joke store. Real great idea there. Some real conflicting interests, for sure. He rolled the muscles in his withers, and let out another repetitive groan as he listened to the small popping noises. He swept his hooves off the edge of the bridge, and turned to the dragon next to him; who appeared to be intently looking over some kind of paper leading out of his pack. "Well, I think I'm done feeling sorry for myself. Let's go." Spike must not have heard him move, because he nearly tossed the paper in his hands over the opposite edge of the bridge as he jumped from the shock. A pair of wide slotted eyes turned onto his own, and he took a private moment to marvel at just how pretty they were. It would be somewhat strange to ever tell him, but he really thought it was a shame that he hadn't had more chances to look his friend in the face so far. It was a bit of a trite opinion, especially for a dragon, but those eyes of his really did look like little emeralds. Just the certain definition in his irises, maybe. It reminded him of the flaws in a jewel. It would probably be a nice thing to tell her. Him. Spike quickly recovered from whatever shock he had given him, and his paper found itself shoved into his pack just as quickly. He took a moment to fasten the button, and another to ensure it was secure over his shoulder; before he brought himself to his hoov- feet. "Alright, I'm ready!" His enthusiasm really had a way of rubbing off when he could actually see it on his face, and he felt a small smile of his own grow in response to the twinkle in the dragon's emerald eyes. He turned towards the Town Hall, and set himself off towards it. He could hear the sound of Spike's hoo- footsteps following behind him, and he took a silent moment to thank the fact that Spike hadn't asked for another ride. It had seemed like a fun and easy way to ingratiate himself to his friend at the time, but it had really ended up being nothing but trouble. As his hoof wobbled underneath himself, a grimace set itself onto his face. He also wasn't quite sure he could actually lift the little lizard at the moment. He slowed his brisk pace down to let Spike catch up, and it wasn't long before the dragon was walking alongside him. He let his gaze wander from the sight of the approaching building, and instead cast it over the blunt edges of the large green spines protruding from his friend's head. Spines? Scales? Spikes? No, it would just be confusing to call them spikes. Probably scales. He turned his attention back to the building just as they came to the front steps. He brought a hoof up to rest on the bottom step as he took a moment to really look over the central fixture of Ponyville. Categorically internalizing random details probably wasn't something that would ever help him, but it was fun enough. Though he was a bit too close to see it now, he had noticed earlier that the building was seemingly made up of three layers. There was the entrance on the ground floor, a balcony built onto the roof of it, and a third, completely separate balcony much higher up. He didn't know if that meant there were three floors, or if it was just the design; but it looked rather nice either way. The walls were an even coat of pale plaster-like material, though he really didn't know enough about architecture to put a solid label on it. The colorless monotony was thankfully broken up with precise patterns of wood, which was probably needed for structural purposes; but that didn't stop it from looking good. The same shade of wood seemed to have been used for the entire building, with the railings and the floors blending seamlessly into each other. Though, from what he had seen, the sloping dome of a roof looked to be a bit darker. It was probably for contrast, and it worked rather well. "Light? You're zoning out again." Spike's voice cut into his inner monologue just as he was finishing up, though it wasn't exactly a tragedy. The only thing left to think about was the colorful flags on the upper balcony, and he didn't really care about them that much. Oh, and the windows. That was maybe a little sad. Well, it probably wouldn't take too much time just to take in the clean reflective surfaces. How the same even shade of brown wood used throughout the walls dipped perfectly down into separating the panes. How the bottom windows were all clean cut squares, while the upper floors boasted larger, sloping windows. And near the top there were- Okay, he was doing it again. He mumbled out a quick apology as his eyes focused back onto the stairs in front of him. He heard Spike let out a knowing sigh, and his ears flattened against his head in quiet shame. He pointedly ignored the sound of his hoofsteps echoing off the wooden steps as he ascended the short climb to the entrance, while Spike's scales made some rather interesting noises that he- Focus. He needed to focus. Why was that such an issue all of a sudden? The door they came to was plain and uninteresting, and he was very aware of the dragon next to him as he quickly pushed it open to walk inside. It was relatively cool outside for summer, but it was still something of a relief to be inside. Outside was fine and all, but the comfort that immediately filled him was rather telling of his personal feelings on the difference between the two. As he listened to the sound of Spike closing the door behind them, his eyes were already flying through the room. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and he suddenly felt a bit like a pony lost in a desert. The soft colors of the drapes throughout the room were... they were nice. The flowers hanging from some of them... they were pretty cool too. The intricate tapestries hanging from the ceiling were quite stellar, but.. oh.. The pink curtain at the head of the room... The stylized weavings of the sun and moon everywhere... The gems, the jewels... The interior itself... He found himself blinking rapidly as his vision blurred, and he promised himself a chance to mourn later. He could have stood there all day thinking about each individual work of art in the room's design, but he just... He needed to focus. The room was very pretty, there was lots of fabric and flowers and such. That was it, that was all he needed. He sniffed back the tears gathering in his eyes, and walked into the room with Spike trailing behind him. His eyes set themselves pointedly on the white unicorn standing atop a raised red platform at the end of the room. She was facing away from them, so he couldn't quite get a great look, but that purple mane was starting to ring- "Woah.." Spike's quiet exclamation took him by surprise, and his next hoofstep stalled as he turned to look questioningly at the dragon who was... looking a little red? "Spike?" He spoke softly, very cognizant of the stranger ahead of them. "Are you okay? What's wrong?" The little dragon shook his head slowly in response, and his hands came up to rest on his reddening cheeks. "Nothing's wrong Light. Actually, everything's right..." The dreamy tone in Spike's voice combined with the slow roll of his words was kind of creeping him out, and he almost felt compelled to inch away from the spellbound dragon. His eyes flicked up to the unicorn again as she began fussing over the placement of some kind of potted shrub, and then back down to his friend who was also brazenly staring at her. She was pretty, he supposed. A bit too soft-looking for his tastes, but... whatever suited Spike's fancy? "I'm sure you'll have a chance to talk to her, now come on." He ended the whisper with a quick head jerk towards the pony in question, and he raised his head to focus back onto her. He waited to hear Spike's mumbled response, and found his eyes rolling in his head. Had he ever heard of restraint? As they walked together towards the pony, one with considerably more enthusiasm than the other; he couldn't help but find himself thinking again that she looked a bit familiar. Did he know her too? Did he know everypony on Twilight's list? Was it a coincidence? Was it some kind of conspiracy? Probably a conspiracy, with his luck. He called out a greeting as they approached, and stopped just short of the platform as the unicorn turned to look at him. Spike, to his discredit, must not have noticed that they stopped. He threw a hoof out to catch the dragon around the stomach as he absently kept walking toward the object of his affections, and pulled him quickly back to his side as a pair of deep purple eyes came to rest on them. The voice that rang out in the quiet of the building was high-pitched, and undeniably elegant. It was the sort of voice he could imagine as the typical standard for refined rich ponies, which was probably the point. "Oh! Light Flow! So nice to see you, darling. How are you?" Wow, everything about this mare was screaming the words 'high-class' at him. The reserved, yet undoubtedly haughty tone in her voice grated harshly on his ears, and he could feel his face falling as a familiar feeling began to well up in his chest. He was afraid. No, more than that, he was afraid for his ears. Why did he feel as though Rarity was going to scream at him? Oh, her name is Rarity. Great, more memories, just what he needed. There was no doubt that he and Rarity knew each other, but he didn't think he liked her very much. Faint echoes of a ringing sound in his ears told him that she was rather high-strung in addition to being high-class. A truly devastating combo. This was going to be a long and painful interaction, he could tell. "I'm well, Rarity; thanks." He didn't bother trying to sound as though he was happy to see her, which was apparently not much of a deterrent judging by the tinkling giggle she loosed into the air. A sickeningly dainty hoof came to rest on similarly dainty lips as she 'struggled' to contain her 'laughter'. It was all an act, he knew. "Oh, Mr. Flow. You know you will have to learn to play nice someday." Two purple eyes opened to stare at him with obvious disapproval as her giggling came to a calculated end. Her smile was insufferably smug, and he could only dare to imagine what new crock she was going to fling at him now. "If you continue the way you are, there is simply no way you shall ever find a marefriend." He had to hoof it to her, it was pretty incredible how conversational she could sound while insulting somepony. It was a rare gift, and she had mastered it readily. Really, his most true and sincere congratulations to the unquestionable champion of the back-hoof. Sarcasm, he could do. Never to her face, though. Oh no, that was a bad idea if ever he had heard it. Instead of making any attempt to tell Rarity off for being so terrible, he simply sighed and nodded in resignation. He could never remember winning any argument with her, so it was really best to just not start any in the first place. He would just have to suffer under the weight of her poison-laced sweet tone. Her smile suddenly fell, and her face shifted towards concern. Her hoof raised as if to step off the platform, and her voice was surprisingly lacking of her usual brand of smug and satisfied. "Light Flow? Darling, are you okay?" He could feel the fur on the back of his neck raise as Rarity's piercing gaze tore through him. This was wholly unexpected. He couldn't ever remember Rarity being so soft with him. Was he still missing memories? Was there a dynamic between them he hadn't considered? He suddenly felt like he should run away. But no, that wasn't even kind of an option. He still needed to know where Twilight was, and Spike probably wouldn't even come with him if he were to bolt. He was stuck. Stuck with a lovey-dovey dragon, and a pony who he couldn't imagine feeling anything but antagonism towards. "I... um.." Stuttering out gibberish to give him time to think was apparently his flavor of the day, though he had gotten sick of it a long time ago. "What.. Uh... H-How do you mean?" Strange phrasing, but still technically correct. It was still just another deflection, though; and Rarity could probably see that. Reading her face wasn't very easy with how uncomfortable he was becoming, but the tiny crinkling at the edges of her eyes probably meant she was taking a closer look at him. That was bad. If she knew him well enough, she could probably drag the truth out with minimal effort. All it would take is just a few simple observations, and it would be obvious that he wasn't right in the head. What should he do? "You're not quite acting yourself, darling. You seem a bit down, is something the matter?" She was stepping off the platform now, and he could feel the tension building painfully in his withers. Why did she care? Wasn't her personality just 'snobbish mare'? Was he misjudging her? A lump was building in his throat, and he could only barely bring himself to speak past it as she came to stand directly in front of him. "I'm... I'm not... I'm feeling a bit under the weather.. I guess." Rarity's eyes crinkled again as her frown deepened. He could feel the burning urge to flinch away from her as she stepped closer to him and brought a hoof up to rest against his head. The cool metal of her horseshoe against his forehead was actually a bit of a relief, though the softness of her frog underneath was nearly panic-inducing. He wasn't sick, and she wouldn't feel any sort of a fever, so she was going to see through his lie any second now. She let out a small chirp of concern as she turned her hoof around to rest the back of it against his forehead. Whatever was about to happen, at least he could take comfort in the fact that her fur was very soft. "...You do feel a bit warm, darling. Is that why you're not wearing your cloak today?" Alarms shot off in his head, and his head jerked rudely away from Rarity's probing hoof as she stared at him with sudden surprise in her eyes. What was she talking about? What cloak? Did he normally wear a cloak? Was that a thing he did?! How long had he been doing that?! He could barely focus on her face through the rising panic, but the faint edge of suspicion was beginning to creep into her veil of worry, and he could feel a strange kind of fear rise to greet it. It wasn't the kind of fear that screamed 'escape', and filled him with the strength to run. It was less pronounced, less obvious. Less of a quick burst of adrenaline that just as quickly faded, but more of a slow burn of constant energy that he could feel gradually leaking into his head and coloring his thoughts with paranoia. Not the fear of a coward running from his problems. It was the fear of somepony with something to hide. What was he hiding? While Rarity searched for something he was sure wasn't on his face, he shot a quick glance to the silent dragon that was still presumably standing next to him. He clearly wasn't going to be any help, not with how lost in his own head he was. His eyes were still fixed tightly on Rarity, and- Stars above, he swore he just saw an actual heart floating around in his eyes. If it hadn't been for Rarity's lens of scrutiny, he would have scoffed disdainfully in the lizard's direction. Lovesick, at a time like this? Some creatures.... Rarity's suddenly cheerful voice rang in his distracted head, and he managed to focus in just in time to see a bedazzled cloth covered in a haze of light blue float out in front of his face. "Would you hold this for me, please?" The confusion running through his head didn't stop him from automatically holding his hoof out to take the cloth, but Rarity just hummed in disapproval. "No no, dear. Hold it with your magic, please." She flashed him a smile over the cloth while something in his head snapped. "If you would." Magic? She was asking him to.. what? What about magic? She wanted him to... do what? Magic...? You will not use magic. "I- I don't... I don't... Um... I- I don't..." The haze around the cloth sputtered out, and he watched blankly as it slowly drifted down to drape over his outstretched hoof. "Light Flow? Darling?" The cloth on his hoof was pretty. The colorful sparkling jewels laced into it made for an absolutely eye-catching spectacle, and he could only wonder what Rarity was using it for. Why had she hoofed it to him, again? "What did you say Rarity? Sorry, I just... This is a really pretty cloth. What were you going to use it for?" The words came to his mouth easily and pleasantly, which, while not normal for his interactions with the fashionista, wasn't a bad thing. He could probably stand to be a bit nicer to her anyway. Rarity's voice sounded again, full of that worry that he hadn't known was so characteristic of her, as well as another emotion that he couldn't quite place. "...Light, dear. I took the cloth away. You're staring at your hoof." Oh, so he was. Well, his hoof was very nice too. Had his fur always been this shade of brown? "Okay, Light Flow." A hoof suddenly found its way under his chin, and his head was forcibly raised to stare into two large purple eyes. "Dear, do you know what day it is?" The day? He had picked up various clues here and there, but he wasn't entirely sure. He let the weight of his head rest on the hoof supporting it, and bit the edge of his lip as he struggled to think. "It's.. um.. There's a festival going on, right?" He must have answered correctly, because a large, toothy smile grew on Rarity's face. His head ducked slightly as her hoof came away, and her voice was suddenly very pleasant. "Tell me, darling. What did you come here for, again?" What had he come for, again? He was... He and Spike were looking for Twilight, that was it. "Uh.. Spike and I are looking for a mare named Twilight Sparkle. She should have come around sometime today." Her eyes had flicked down to the dragon at his side when he mentioned him, but at the mention of Twilight's name, she let out a small gasp of recognition. "Ah, Miss Sparkle!" Her curled mane bounced slightly as she nodded in delight. "Why, she did indeed pay me a visit earlier this afternoon. She was very pleasant, though her mane was an absolute disaster." She shivered slightly at the apparently horrible memory, before she continued with that same large smile on her face and a flutter in her eyelashes. "She graciously allowed me the chance to mend the blow to her image, though she unfortunately found that she had to leave before too long." Another giggle that didn't hurt as much as the ones before rang in the air, and she continued again in its absence. Her voice gained a sly tone as she turned an approving eye on him. It made him a bit uncomfortable. "You know, Miss Pie made a stop of her own earlier and invited me to a small soiree she had thrown together for the mare in question. Why don't I escort you there, and we can see if she's made it?" Pinkie Pie was throwing a party for Twilight? That sure sounded like something she would do. It actually sounded like a really good idea to go and wait for her there. He would have to put up with Pinkie Pie and whoever else might be there, but it sure beat trotting all over town on a wild goose chase. He turned his head to Spike, intent on asking his opinion; but the words stalled in his throat as he caught the absolutely blank stare in his eyes. He probably wouldn't hear him even if he did say anything. Whatever, he would say it was a great idea too. He turned back to Rarity, and met the air of expectancy floating nebulously around her. Thinking about it, she seemed very insistent about this. Just the direct measure of her tone, and that hidden little emotion in her face that he couldn't place. It all screamed 'please'. Maybe Rarity liked him or something? Eugh, that was a weird thought. It sent uncomfortable shivers down his spine. Well, whatever. He would indulge her. "Sure, Rarity. That sounds good." Her face bloomed into a beautiful smile at his response, and her voice gained a sing-song tone. "Splendid, darling!" She stepped past him with a dainty flourish, and turned her head to address him again. "Come along, dear! Don't forget your little friend, too!" As Rarity trotted out ahead of them, he turned his attention to Spike... whose gaze had stayed firmly locked on Rarity. Actually, from this angle, there was probably only one thing he could see very well; and the thought brought a long awaited scoff from his mouth. His hoof flew out to harshly nudge the starry-eyed dragon in the side, which had less effect than he was hoping. He let out a groan, and spoke with an edge of annoyance in his voice. "Dude, you shouldn't stare. It's not polite." All he got in response was a far-off sigh as his tiny shoulders slumped. He felt a familiar rush of exasperation as he rolled his eyes, before he stepped out in front of the blushing lizard. "Come on, you creep. Let's go." His words must have registered well enough, or maybe it was just because Rarity was out of sight at that point: because Spike gradually managed to raise a foot in front of him. He watched with a critical eye as the dragon staggered towards the entrance of the building after the object of his affections. It was pathetic, really. He had given up all control of his faculties just because of a pretty mare. Spike was lucky he had a friend like him.