//------------------------------// // Chapter 54: Hoping // Story: The Trinity of Moons: Mending Shards // by Cloud Ring //------------------------------// ☄☄☄ There was only snow and a black ocean, and nopony bothered Cursory and Blacklight. Yet their reality was not a dream, and words they trampled on the snow-powdered sand to test that lay unchanged even while they were not looking. When thirst and hunger visited them, Cursory jokingly suggested if the unicorn could conjure some spiced alfalfa, and cider while she was at it. Of course, Blacklight could not — this spell would be utilizing a different Moon’s aspect, even before accounting for the fact that the Moons here stood motionless around nadir. But the recursive search spell, directed towards the city and aimed at clean water and non-perishable food, was quite within Black Moon’s field, even if in practice it required several awkward, confusing and exhausting corrections. The city was sparse, but a few bottles of clean water and a cereal shop could still be found nearby; the spell also indicated that some of the corpses were edible too; Blacklight, blushing, did not comment on this. The ball of orange flame over the ruins continued to burn, and Cursory aimed to light a fire from it so as not to return to the shore. Blacklight objected: if the Red decides to return to them, then it is better for them to stay roughly around the same place. “But isn't this the world of the Red?” Cursory made a sweeping gesture over the frozen city. “That’s why it is worth being polite. It is not as bad as it looks,” Blacklight replied, wiping her glasses. Yet, at Cursory’s insistence, they first returned to the point of entry into this reality and looked for a way out there; in her experience of anisotropic space, this was the answer — not always, but relatively often. Indeed, after some directed effort, a mirror was found, and it even retained its shape, colors, frame material, proportions, but not the size. The Herald examined it closely and asked the unicorn to cut a few strands from Cursory’s tail for an improvised pendant’s thread. “Maybe we'd better find a rope nearby?” Blacklight asked, surprised. “Uh-huh, then we won't find the mirror. I think you should wear it as it is yours,” Cursory grinned. Blacklight muttered under her breath that “I could cut my own tail too,” to which Cursory remarked that she had seen the results of a manecut made on one’s own and did not want to see any more of such atrocities, and that the tail will grow back in no time. But the main thing, unsaid and yet understood by both of them, was that, in Cursory's eyes, Blacklight's new pendant was complimenting her style, a small piece of glitter over her dark coat. In the normal world clean mirrors could not be accessories pretty much at all; thus Cursory did not miss the chance while she could get the look to admire. Blacklight noted that this tail cut had been rather symbolic but did not elaborate. For a long time on the shore nopony had been coming to them, not even a thought of the Red, angry or otherwise. While the phases of the frozen Moons were affecting their bodies, they did so in less than full force — instead of a deep and healthy sleep, there was subtle inaction, lack of much will to move, act or think. Cursory lazily solved crosswords, Blacklight planned how they would live if they were to stay here for a really long time, starting with a warm shelter. Cursory grudgingly remarked that not much sense was there in getting carried away with this train of thought — pretty soon she would not be able to stand it and would fly away to look for Gentle or to find the Red and convey to it her requests. Then Dartline, disheveled and oily, found them and, sparing no beat, asked to clean her wings, which turned out to be much more difficult than it seemed at first — the sticky rubbish, spotted in rainbow-tinted black and purple, was stretching for too long without tearing up. It was clinging below feathers and coat. It was still possible to shake it off, but the puddles crawled to the nearest pony, slowly but surely. After a few tests Blacklight guessed that the substance’s attractions were warmth and smell. So, with a protective circle of bonfires, they managed to get rid of it; the tack did not like too much heat. Dartline told them the story of the Red as well as its proposal, making Cursory smile upon hearing it. “So they will come for us soon. Is Gentle Touch alive and alright?” the pegasus did not hide how important it was. She melted away when she heard "Yes, quite. I checked on your friend and Plum first." in reply. After a quick meal Dartline added “I know where the exit to our reality is and I can point you towards it.” “Fine. But can you take me to Gentle?” Cursory asked urgently. Dartline shook her wings in disgust — the tack was no longer there, but attempts to get rid of it took more than one slice, “Only if you really need to. The direct path is blocked, detour can be attempted, I believe. But I'm not the Red, I don't know all the routes. There are a lot of directions here—” “Then take us to the exit, please, and there we'll be waiting.” Cursory asked. “Better to have a way out at hoof.” Dartline silently raised her hoof towards the ocean and in the very same beat was flying; Cursory blinked, paused a little to ask if the unicorn did not object to being carried, and soon all three were flying over the ocean, two on their wings, one on the pegasus pony’s back. Dartline was annoyingly slow — even with a load on her back Cursory could fly two-thirds faster and still not be stressed. But the living warmth was a joy in itself and, concentrating on the flight, Cursory did not worry. Time passed and, under the shimmering curtain of the aurora, surrounded by calm and attentive stars — not devouring, as an old saying goes, and not wanting Cursory to cease her existence, as in 12-S once was, just observing — they arrived at the ring islands, when Cursory realized where they are — outside the continent at the Descent of White. In their known reality, local residents exported live exotic fish and rare plants to the Metropolis, and many parts of these exports were then used for modifiers; here the ground was covered with snow in the same vein as it was on the edge of the ocean, and only empty fishing boats lay on atolls shores — natives left this place too, if they even were there at all. It was not difficult to spot the Red, with its posture, colors and height, although Cursory felt a pang of envy when she realized that Dartline adjusted course for it — and, therefore, saw it — before Cursory herself. But Gentle Touch, standing next to her, was not immediately recognized. She was an adult, all but outright old — with wrinkles around her eyes, with pale fur; nevertheless, looking straight into the Red's face, whole body turned towards it, Gentle was silently expressing that there was no more fear, if there ever had been. Plum was also nearby, and also much older than she had been before entering the mirror — a mare in the prime of her physical and magical powers. Solid Line, as well as an unknown unicorn and pegasus in yellow-orange tones similar to Solid’s own ones, looked at the pair of flyers in their own tight group from aside, not interfering. Obviously not much time had passed for Solid Line. The pegasi dived to the ground next to the Red, Blacklight rolled from her carrier’s back, resiliently standing on all fours, and Cursory realized that she did not know what to say next. Gentle Touch was, as always, the mare she needed in her life, as necessary as flight itself,  and life without her would be a torture, and she knew that the mission had been all but suicidal in the first place— Cursory stopped thinking, made a step forward, and spoke frankly to the Red, allowing her to be angry as the sight deserved, “You! Are you completely out of your mind? You think I’ll even move a feather for you without Gentle, eh? Be it on my own, you would sit here until the end of time, with all your stinky jokes!” The Red looked at her, not even moving its ear, with unblinking swamp-cyan eyes. Gentle hugged Cursory, and the scent — still apple, albeit a different shade — calmed her in less than a beat; the pegasus realized that she was smiling. “It's… not a punishment, nor even a game,” Gentle told her. “This is our reason to hurry up — not rush, just hurry up. We will all die, for various reasons, and pretty soon if we fail the task or deviate from it for too long. But if we manage, we will live happily ever after.” “And what kind of task is it, in short?” Cursory asked, still annoyed, “I stand corrected, take your time. I want to make sure you live.” She knew it sounded stupid. But, stupid or not, that was honest. Blacklight approached Plum, the unicorn’s head raised slightly to look at her friend. Blue rulers flashed in the air on three sides of the earth pony, Blacklight chuckled and extinguished the magic. “How much?” Plum asked curiously. "A lot," Blacklight replied dryly. They paused, looking at each other, then laughed almost simultaneously. “What about weight then?” Plum chuckled. This triggered another measurement, now in the form of a ghostly platform beneath Plum's hooves, and another burst of quiet laughter. Cursory couldn't share this joke. She kissed Gentle on dry lips and listened to the details, “We need to get to the underwater part of the Red and pull Sunset Shimmer’s remnants to the surface. She should be somewhere nearby, approximately in this place but in our reality and deep under water. In ancient times, the cultists had already released her once. That was when the Red as we know it appeared in the sky. Therefore, they are unlikely to help us — since then, only complete madponies have been trying to call for her again, and Purity and her extermination teams have worked to clean up any barely organized cults.” “If we manage, the Red will return your youth, or, at least, will not kill you, am I getting you right?” Cursory clarified. "At least it said so," Gentle nodded, and Cursory heard the Red laughing softly, but did not honour it even by a turn of her head. “We know it is often lying.” Cursory smiled, "And we are here to start searching immediately?" “Yes. I'll be back at my age, at first, but then my clock will run noticeably faster.” Cursory kissed her again, “Then I request transport to a certain location. Sector 26-W, eighth habitat, exactly cubic nine apartment number. For all of us. As close as the Red is able.” She smiled, enjoying the amazement in Gentle's wide pinkish eyes; then how one beat later it gave way to confusion and "I definitely was not ready for this." “No…” Gentle whispered. “Yes,” Cursory nodded affirmatively. “I'll introduce you to mom if that will be the last thing that I will ever do.” “You are one of those who did return home after the unbound age, aren’t you?” Gentle Touch asked, pale. Cursory laughed, softly and happily. ⊛⊛⊛☄☄☄ After the transition, they found themselves at the wall of a barely lit warehouse, among boxes and containers, more or less neatly stacked on pallets to the ceiling; the mirror stood behind a curtain colored along to the wall, in a deep niche. They asked Metropolis to show them the way out, and soon a mechanical blue-green butterfly fluttered in front of them — a shade brighter than Red's eyes. Following it, they got out into a half-dark alley, then further on to the avenue, and Cursory recognized the surroundings after that. A short walk in the rain, with Gentle under the wing of her pegasus, was the simplest, most clear and comfortable thing for the two of them in a long, long time; only once they deviated from the route, as construction work was going on inside the orange light contour. Cursory looked at the sky and thought that there, at great heights, moonless stations were still rolling around; she silently promised to nopony in particular that they, too, will get their way to happiness, mortals and immortals alike. On the way, Plum and Dartline acquired some dough, toppings for future pies, and coffee, and Plum added firecrackers and an assortment of lettered balloons to spell out the name of Cursory's mom — Tender Streak. The herd of ponies in the small apartment was noisy and sudden, but not burdensome, and Tender did not ask them to leave. Cursory told her mother a lot, but not everything — in particular she was silent about the Red, only mentioning that from the next cycle they had to hit the road again. She politely looked at mom’s photos taken in the mountains and honestly promised that the issue with the foals would be resolved one way or another. At first, Solid was silent on the corner of the table, but rather quickly she noticed the assortment of tabletops in the closet, and after the table was freed from most food, the ponies gathered next to her and played several tournaments for minor money bets; in a quiet but stubborn struggle, Tender emerged victorious, leaving Solid at a honorable second place. In the midst of all this, Tender Strick found time to take her daughter into the kitchen and say that “I don’t mind this choice. She is quite a reliable filly in my opinion, but when you settle down, send me the address.” Cursory did not even know how important it was, and spread on the floor, smiling wide; Tender laughed and patted her mane. For the entire team in the parental home of Cursory — everypony, not counting Fluttershy, who once again modestly took her place inside Solid Line, and conditionally counting Signal, who returned to a much more compact form — there were not enough beds for sleeping and resting, even after accounting for the phases. Still, Cursory Strick and Gentle Touch were on the floor but together, and drifted to sleep not immediately. Their shared dream of an ocean was sparkling.