//------------------------------// // A4 — First Quarter // Story: Where Only Silver Shines // by Etyco Filly //------------------------------// One two three, breathe. One two three, breathe. One two three, breathe. One two three, breathe. One two three, breathe. I held in a cough as my lungs burnt with every breath. Floating my pocket watch in front of me, I blinked my bleary eyes while my heart desperately hammered away. Seven more seconds. One… one two three. Two… Could I stop now? Three… This would suffice, would it not? Four… No, it would not. Few… more… steps! Five… My hooves hit the stone in rapid succession nigh in synchrony with my heartbeat. Six… Almost there… Almost there… Seven… I slowed to a trot, panting heavily. Sweat ran down my brow, and I swallowed the coppery saliva building up in my mouth before it could pool over. My vision blurred and my head spun, but the pride swelling deep within my chest overpowered all. Or was merely that my heart on the cusp of giving out? I had done it. I had managed the first step in The Egghead’s Guide to Running—an ancient book that had never been translated into modern Trottish; so old we perhaps owned its only copy. It recommended to first trot for four minutes, then canter for one, and to repeat the process for half an hour. However, it assumed far too much from a pony like me. At first, I found even a ten-second canter impossible without anaerobic respiration—the book’s term for the burning sensation in a pony’s limbs. Five attempts later, I had finally reached the starting line, and I wondered… Would my lungs’ predisposition to self-immolation ever subside? In stark contrast, my heart had rapidly developed a strength it had never before needed. No longer did I skim the edges of oblivion whenever I broke into a canter. Though my limits still lay far below those of a working pony, this gait came naturally to me. However, I could not claim the same of the gallop, which I practised every other day. The movement itself was instinctive, but my conscient psyche complicated its execution. It involved momentarily lifting all four hooves, and that realisation had clouded my mind. Though my glamour hid bruises from older, failed attempts, it did nothing to erase the shame they brought upon me. Most had since faded, while the few that had not served to remind me how far behind I had fallen, but also of my progress. I so desperately clung to this attitude. It would let me reach new heights, now that I had reached the first page. Silver had the same outlook on life, after all, and he owed it everything. My lips curled into a smile. Tomorrow, we would meet again after a week, and he would see my progress. He knew how weak I had been; he understood how much it meant. Oh, precious would be the look on his face! I stopped. My grin dropped. Why did I so yearn for his praise? I shook my head. What a silly question. His approval meant I treaded the right path. He was my mentor in this regard, much like I taught him about literature. Yet I had never been as eager for a teacher’s favour. I sat down next to the wall and sighed, searching for answers. Perhaps it was due to my investment in the matter? It certainly made sense, though this answer struck me as incomplete. No, the real reason was so obvious that I nearly flinched when it hit me. It was friendship. I wanted my friend to be proud of me. I should have realised it sooner; I understood the concept all too well from fiction. Sighing, I forced myself to rise and began trotting to where I had hidden my saddlebags and clothes. Though I looked nothing like my usual self, I feared that my wings might draw too much attention if spotted. Ponies might wonder who I was. Luckily, nopony frequented the lap I had chosen for my daily exercise during this time of day and week. Adults tended to their duties, and foals were at school. Though the cliff overlooking the serf village was popular in the evenings, it remained deserted throughout the day. On free days, when ponies oft wandered these tunnels, I would attempt other kinds of exercise. Unfortunately, few resources intended for beginners had survived since the Equestrian era, making research difficult. My wings in particular were highly underdeveloped, and I lacked even a single book on the topic. Wing push-ups came to mind first, though I managed less than one. Maybe one day, I could find a good enough excuse to ask Silver about it. Perhaps I could tell him I hid my wings due to the shame of being flightless? The question would then become why I was unable to fly. Maybe he would believe my family had sheltered me and I had never developed the muscles? But then, why had they done so to such an absurd extent? I could inform him of my health issues, but that might lead to an unsustainable web of lies. It would no doubt be simpler to tell him most of the truth. Only… Would he remain my friend if he knew my name? Or would my lies hurt him, and lead to our falling apart? Valid concerns, and excellent reasons to keep him ignorant. Then why did I crave it so to confess? Another pointless question. I knew why. He was my friend. I could be myself around him, more than around anypony else. I needed not pretend to be a good daughter, studying and staying safe. I needed not pretend to be an attentive and clever student. I needed not pretend to be an unassuming cousin. I needed not pretend to be a noble who spoke only in the most polite and eloquent sentences. While I wore no mask, I nevertheless kept a secret; a lie which hurt my very soul. My mood improved as soon as Silver stepped around the corner. “Hey,” he said, a smile on his lips. I returned it not out of politeness, but genuine joy. “Hello.” “Nice to see you relaxin’ in a place like this.” I raised an eyebrow, and he added with a shake of his head,  “Sorry, the thought just kinda popped into me head.” Placing a hoof over my mouth, I chuckled. “What, because I was slightly nervous at first? Please, I know very well I am safe here,” I replied with mock offence. Silver started laughing as well, and my smile grew ever wider. He had a point. Despite its location in the sarosian layer, our spot hardly appeared as safe as the town itself, and at first had unsettled me. Ponies rarely strolled here, though couples occasionally found us. They waited little before leaving to find another private corner. As Silver drew closer, I marked my page and closed my book. When he sat down next to me, I said, “I have been wondering…” Silver looked at me, lifting an eyebrow. “Did you take a look at one of the prisons, like you said you wanted to? I wanted to ask about it last week, but I completely forgot, and you didn’t bring it up either.” Silver shook his head, then shrugged. “I dunno, days have been passin’ real quick lately. Kinda just didn’t have the time. After a shift, I’m usually too tired to do anythin’. When I’m off, I spend half the day lounging in bed, and then I either train or meet up with you. Sometimes both. Whatever time’s left I spend readin’, ’cause by then it’s already late.” It never failed to surprise me how quickly I had gotten used to his accent. I hardly noticed it anymore. However, that he had yet to quench his curiosity struck me as odd. My expression must have betrayed my thoughts, for he folded his ears and muttered, “I know, I know, I need to get around to it. Feels like I’m makin’ excuses, but it’s just tough, you know?” I gave him a flat look and said in an equally level tone, “Silver, a flyer would need less than an hour to look around one of the prisons.” He opened his mouth, ready to argue, but cut himself short and  sighed. “I guess…” “So, do you still want to know, or not?” I raised my eyebrows, smirking. “Of course.” Despite his words, his tone lacked conviction. “I’ll get around to it as soon as I get the time.” I stared at him for a few moments, while his tail flicked nervously. “What?” “You and I are friends, are we not?” Oh, I’d always wanted to say that line! I kept my excitement to myself, and Silver nodded. “Then tell me, please, why are you so hesitant? Are you perhaps afraid? I would think not, but your attitude makes me believe otherwise.” “I…” He sighed and averted his gaze. “I dunno. I guess I’m scared of findin’ out.” I tilted my head to the side. “Finding out what?” He thought for a moment. “Just… What if what that mare said is true? What if I go and see a prison and don’t like what’s goin’ on there?” With his left hoof, he half kicked, half shoved a pebble off the edge of the cliff. “What do I do then? Join a haphazard rebellion that will probably hurt more ponies than it would help? Pretend like nothing’s wrong and continue workin’ for the Cap’n?” I gave him a look. An unconvinced, flat look. “Is that not what you are currently doing? Pretending like the problem does not exist?” The prisoners’ fate mattered little to me, much unlike my friend’s. Silver’s turmoil pained me, and I needed to do something. Not to satisfy my curiosity, but to help him. “Do you not feel conflicted already? This at least could soothe your worries.” Okay, maybe it was slightly out of curiosity. Only curiosity; prisoners’ fate mattered little to me. “I… guess.” Somehow, he shrank away further. Perfectly aware I would regret it later, I said, “We should go together. I would be glad to provide emotional support for you.” His ears slowly rose as his eyes widened. Realistically, it would go both ways; he would give me the courage to enter such a place, but I would not admit to that, though I supposed he likely knew that already. As he blinked at me, his mouth ajar, I added, “Before you ask, I do have a method to get in.” My statement practically made him jump. “Wait, how?” I shook my head. “Unimportant; It is related to how I leave the estate, and it is rather complicated. However, I solemnly promise I will be there with you.” I winced. I had just missed a prime opportunity to reveal one of my secrets, had I not? I could still tell him. Surely, he would understand. He was my friend; he would accept me… right? “You okay, Keep?” Silver’s worried tone snapped me out of my thoughts before they could spiral. I nodded, raising my ears. When had they even folded? “Yeah, I just remembered something very embarrassing from when I was a foal.” I forced out a mild chuckle, almost wincing at how strained it sounded. He raised an eyebrow, thoroughly unconvinced. “If you say so… You wouldn’t wanna tell me about it, would you? It looked pretty bad.” I laughed again. “Absolutely not.” Why was I like this?