//------------------------------// // II ~ The Letter // Story: Izzy and the Moonlit Garden // by Sledge115 //------------------------------// II The Letter Luna was a strange mare indeed. For one, Izzy knew that her name was an extremely old word for the Moon. Her mother had remarked as such, and Izzy was grateful that she hadn’t batted an eye when she declared her intent to visit this ‘Luna’ three times a week come the weekend.  As for Luna, Izzy thought it was odd, too, that she refused to enter the village. Izzy hadn’t pressed the issue, not even when Luna turned down her snack offerings whenever she came by with a bag of candy and treats. “Thank you for the candy and tea, Izzy,” she’d said at the time, as Izzy set them down upon the gardener’s crude table. “But I’m afraid I am… not quite in the mood for candy.” So very strange. Izzy knew little of ponies who’d turn down free sweets. She’d answered with this so often that she had to conclude that perhaps Luna had no taste for candy at all. But one sip of her mother’s finest pine tea, and Luna declared it the finest brew in all the land. Most of all, what the gardener did accept without question were her creations. Izzy started small, as with all things. Her new companion raised an eyebrow at what she’d presented next – a little white flower, made of paper and covered in shining glitter. “It’s a flower,” Izzy had said proudly. “It’s for your garden. Mom said gardening is hard, so I decided to make this instead. If I can’t garden, I still thought this’d be fun.” Luna said little, merely taking it in her hoof, looking at it with a curious gaze. “Is it good enough?” “Why would it not be?” was Luna’s gentle reply, as she set her flower down. “Perhaps a touch too much with the glitter, but all things have their beginnings. Come, little one, let me teach you the ways of fun.” But Luna’s ideas of ‘fun’ proved rather sweeping and grand, and Izzy found it difficult to tell her that unicorns knew little of ‘apple bobbing’ or ‘portal casting’ or ‘pumpkin chucking’ – there simply weren’t any pumpkins nearby. Neither was Luna amused to learn that one Alphabittle did indulge in similar games, yet they all involved gambling. “Cretin,” Luna had remarked, stomping a hoof and huffing as she did so. “Why, I ought to tell him a thing about ‘fun’... From the way she held her shears, Izzy was a touch relieved Luna didn’t seem in a hurry to pay him a visit. Graceful and elegant she may carry herself, a tiny part of Izzy thought she might give Alphabittle a rather stern lecture. The matter passed when Izzy offered to tell her mother all about her garden, so that one day she may present a painting of it.  Luna’s eyes brightened, and soon all thoughts of fun and cretins and gambling passed amidst an enthusiastic showing of her garden, all its nooks and crannies and so, so many flowers. Such a pity, though, that whenever Izzy asked, pleaded her mother to visit Luna, to come behold the secret garden with her own eyes, her mother had simply said she was busy, and that she was fine with merely listening to Izzy’s retellings of Luna’s various flowers and teachings on fun. And, while she kept it to herself, lest Luna be crestfallen like all others, Izzy knew that no matter how hard she pushed and tried and declared, none of the other children had much interest in listening to her either, so caught up were they in nonsense like talking about mayonnaise or other forbidden words, or gloomy poems and downbeat tunes. One day, as Spring turned to Summer, Luna offered a gift of her own. * * * * * She’d arrived there on the first day of the weekend, carrying a bag with a few more paper flowers – this time with less glitter and more variety. But Luna was nowhere to be seen. The cloaked mare wasn’t at her stone table, nor was she tending to her latest, marginally less withered batch of roses, nor was she even at her leaf-covered nook. Then little Tiberius squeaked, pointing up. Izzy’s eyes followed his paw, up, up, up, until she caught sight of Luna. “Why are you all the way up there?” Izzy had cried out, getting onto the table for a better view. Indeed, Luna stood tall on a twisting branch, eyes looking out at the skies. She looked down from up above – and disappeared into the surrounding branches and leaves. Before Izzy could cry out in surprise, the gardener had reemerged, out of the undergrowth in front of her with nary a sound. “Whoa,” Izzy said. “How did you… from there, down here? Huh?” “I, ah, climb in my free time,” said Luna, shrugging as if it were the most natural thing in the world, dusting off her cloak. “I was merely keeping an eye in the skies, just in case…”  From within her cloak, she withdrew a crumpled piece of paper. “I was stargazing, you see, when I caught sight of a lantern adrift amongst the treetops. This is what I retrieved.” She placed it upon the stone table, beside Izzy and the orrery. Her gaze beckoned Izzy’s curiosity. “I thought you might be interested.” It was a drawing, Izzy saw. A beautiful one, too, with striking colours and bold letters. Three little ponies there were, orange, purple and blue, enjoying a picnic beneath all the colours of the rainbow. And though Izzy briefly mused that whoever sent it could use a spelling lesson, her eyes were drawn to what they said, and who the ponies were. Three ponies. A unicorn, a pegasus, and an earthpony. Yet the pegasus and earthpony were a far cry from the nasty little drawings she’d been shown in class. No, they were smiling, happy and content with one another. “‘Dear unicorns and pegasi,’” Izzy read aloud. “‘You have friends in Maretime Bay. Come visit us!’” She paused. She read it again, back and forth, digesting the words. She was invited. Someone had invited her. “I… I have friends?” she whispered.  “Izzy?” “I have friends!” Izzy exclaimed, hopping off the stone table, giggling. “I have friends, Tiberius!” The possum said nothing, but he squeaked, and she laughed harder still. “Then, then I gotta visit!” Izzy exclaimed, prancing around, the happiest she had ever been. “Okay. Okay. I don’t know where Maretime Bay is, but I have to visit! Right, Luna?” But Luna was quiet. Quieter, somehow, than when Izzy first met her, as she looked at her with eyes that suddenly looked far older than they should. “Um,” Luna began, looking a touch unsure. “Izzy, do you know what friends do?” “Yeah!” said Izzy. “I mean, friends play and talk and all that fun stuff. I’m sure they’ll be up for it.” Luna nodded. “Right, and how do you speak with your friends?” “Oh, they usually just listen to me. They’re very polite. Not that they can talk, I think. But they just sort of sit there and all.” Luna raised an eyebrow. “And… what do you play with them?” “Well, hm, I tried to play hide and seek with Pebbles, but when it was my turn, she just seemed confused. But that’s okay.” Izzy rubbed her chin. “She can’t roll very fast either, she has a chip on her back.” She giggled. “Charades isn’t very exciting either, they always pretend to be different kinds of rocks.” She glanced at the letter. “And… hmm, I don’t think they can read either. I can read to them.” She blinked, and smiled wider. “Oh! I can bring them here, with some paint! I can paint them with you. It’d be fun and there’s gonna be a lot of–” “Izzy,” Luna finally said again, very quietly. “Do you have filly friends, friends your age, friends who do talk back?” “Oh, I mean, I just talk to Pebbles and Chip a lot more. Why?” Luna shook her head. “Rocks can be companions for some, Izzy…” said the gardener, her gaze flicking towards the stone table. “But I do not think they are right for you.” “Then, I… I have to visit Maretime Bay,” Izzy concluded. “I need to know. I need to know what friends do.  Whoever wrote this has got to know.” But Luna’s glare was harsh and cold. Izzy stopped, shuffling back. Luna had never looked as deathly cold and silent as she did now, the warmth she held withdrawn. “Nay,” she said, voice stern. “I would not advise it.” Izzy’s eyes widened. “Is it, is it the pegasi? I heard they’re mean– or is it the earthponies? But… um. I guess we can make this work.” Luna shook her head, tapping impatiently. “Nay, Izzy,” she said. “You are hardly acquainted with whomever wrote this letter. And if the unicorns of these woods refuse to see eye to eye with us, then what use would visiting these other ponies be?” “You don’t know that–” “I do,” Luna retorted, voice rising. “I have seen it, hope and cherished talks of friendship. And yet it faltered, it faded as all things do. Do not waste your time. They are not your friends, and I do not wish for you to be disappointed as she…” Her voice trailed off, and her glare softened. Luna’s lips quivered, as she choked out the last words, her hoof tugging at her cloak with uncertainty. “As others were.” She looked away from her, and said no more. Izzy felt her own lips tremble, but she held on, as she gave Tiberius a quiet, sad little stroke. “Okay,” Izzy said, feeling a little numb. “Then I guess I’ll just leave these here.” Setting down the bag of paper flowers, she turned away to leave, without another word spoken, nor thoughts that passed her mind. Just as she was to depart, pushing the vines aside, however, she heard Luna call out. “Izzy, wait.” She stopped. When she turned around, she saw Luna approach, letter in hoof. Gone was her unkind glare, and only a warm gaze remained. “I’m… sorry. That was harsh,” Luna murmured. “This… other pony. Perhaps she is not your friend now. But that doesn't mean you should not try at all.” “But you said it yourself,” Izzy replied. “I don’t know her.” Luna looked away, taking a deep breath. “I knew someone once. She loved to write letters too.” She proferred the message, with a soft smile. “I suppose it would not hurt to start, would it?” Izzy nodded slowly, as she took the message in her hooves. A thought crossed her mind. “Oh! Should... should I come visit, then?” “How old are you?” “Eight and a half.” “Then no, not yet. Awfully unsafe for a child of your age to travel by your lonesome.” “But I’ll be ten soon!” Izzy protested. “I’ll be ready!” “Then you best prepare,” said Luna, voice gentler still. “Don’t you want them to smile, when you show them your finest works? We have plenty of time, so much time.” * * * * * Luna’s words stayed with Izzy, long into the night that followed. She’d answered ‘yes’ with little hesitation, and for hours on end, as she walked back all the way to her cottage, Izzy thought of little else but the letter. Who had written it, she wondered? Who had sent it out, who had taken time out of their day to draw her such pretty ponies? She was so excited that she almost forgot to eat dinner, and her mother merely gave her a fond little nod when Izzy tried and failed to mention just what it was that Luna showed her that day. “You can tell me when you’re ready,” said her mother. Izzy said nothing in response, merely giggled. She gave her mother a quick embrace and bolted upstairs, thoughts drifting off into the realm of dreams the moment she hopped onto her bed. … Lavender. So much lavender. She stood upon an endless expanse of lavender. So she ran, laughing freely and happily. From up above, a thousand lanterns glowed, descending from the starry night above. Each of them had their own letter, and Izzy wondered how many of them came from little fillies and colts such as she, awaiting friends from beyond their homes. Their laughter mingled with Izzy’s own as she pranced and ran and did everything she could do to let her joy pour out all around her. Rock paintings. Orreries. Paper flowers. Tiny, colourful bracelets. So many things to do, so many friends to find. And as she laid down at last on that endless field of lavender, looking up at the Moon above, Izzy wondered whose glowing eyes it were that looked back at her, for she had never known the Moon to bear a shadowy mare cast upon its surface.