Special Illumination

by ponichaeism

CHAPTER XXXV: Sentiment Océanique

"It's a beautiful day," Mareco said, breathing deep of the fragrant spring air. "The kind of day that makes you glad you're still alive."
"Don't talk like that, mother," Galexia said as she nuzzled close. "You know I hate it when you say things like that."
The folds and wrinkles on Mareco's sixty-year-old face doubled as she smiled reassuringly at her daughter. "It's alright, Lexi. I've lived a good, long life."
Ignoring the pain it took to move, as he'd done for the past twenty years, Starswirl put a hoof on his daughter's shoulder. He and his wife leaned close, nuzzling Galexia between the two of them. Together, as a family, they sat on the hill overlooking the sea and gazed out over the shifting tides, and the sunlight sparkling off the liquid mirror of the water's surface, constantly fracturing and reknitting itself.
"It is beautiful," Galexia said.
Mareco tousled her daughter's hair. "Not as beautiful as you, my little filly."
With a chuckle, Galexia said, "Mother, I'm not a filly anymore, I'm a grown mare. I have a foal of my own now."
"You'll always be my little filly," Mareco said.
Something in Starswirl's brain itched, like a gear crammed awkwardly into a mechanism that it didn't fit into. But the moment with his family was so beautiful, so calm, so perfect, that he ignored the feeling as his mind playing tricks on him. It always did that, he noticed, although lately it felt like it had been happening more and more. Why, last week he had even forgotten his wife's name. It had terrified him, but he told himself it wouldn't happen again.
At that moment, he suddenly remembered the same thing had happened two months ago, but he had forgotten about it entirely.
"Look," Galexia said, rousing him from his thoughts. "Here comes Neb."
Starswirl smiled as his grandson, Nebulae, who had apparently tired of chasing butterflies around the hill and now galloped back. The young colt skittered to a halt in front of them.
They always have so much energy when they're young, Starswirl thought. Was I ever so exuberant?
"Mama, I wanna go in water," Nebulae hollered. "Take me, take me!"
"Why don't you ask Grampa Starswirl?" Mareco said. "Swirl, give us time for some mare talk, alright?"
Starswirl smiled as she winked at him, and dutifully got to his hooves. He tried not to wince as he forced his protesting joints to bend. When his wife and daughter looked at him, worry in their eyes, he forced a smile onto his face to reassure them.
"I'll be fine," he said.
Once he'd picked his way down to the seashore, he let his hooves sink into the sand and watched as Nebulae trotted into the water and started splashing around.
"Not too far out, now," Starswirl called.
"Yes, grampapa," he said, jumping up and down in water that came up to his knees.
Starswirl edged up to the sea, so that the waves licked his hooves. In his old age, he had taken very warmly--
Pun intended, he thought, smiling to himself.
--to the sauna. The water was good for soothing his aching bones. He took a few more steps out. The water went up past his knees, then his stomach went under. He kept going until his hooves left the ground, and he floated on the warm water. He basked in the serenity of the moment and let his thoughts float away.
This all feels so familiar, he thought. As if I'm in harmony with the ocean. Just part of a greater whole.
Absolutely limitless.
"Grampapa, help!" Nebulae cried.
Starswirl's eyes shot open. He saw the young colt being swept out to sea. Starswirl paddled towards him, but the strain wore out his aching body quickly. He fought through the pain and powered his limbs, but just then an enormous tidal wave rose up above him and gave him a rough shove back in the direction of the shoreline. He thrashed against it, but it was useless; it tossed him back onto the sand, where no matter how hard he tried to move, he could only lay there as Nebulae screamed for help.
Mareco and Galexia loomed over him, made dark as they blocked the sunlight. "Why didn't you save him, Starswirl?" they asked in perfect unison.
As he gasped for breath, he said, "I couldn't feel it."
"Why didn't you save him, Starswirl?"
"I couldn't feel it anymore," he said louder.
Their voices carried to the heavens as they boomed, "WHY DIDN'T YOU SAVE HIM, STARSWIRL?"

"I couldn't feel the ocean!" Starswirl cried as he shot bolt upright.
Clover, who had nestled up to his side and wormed her way under his foreleg sometime in the night, shot awake as well. In a fluster, she became a pale green blur as she thrashed around in surprise and fell off the couch. As Starswirl's heart settled back into its normal rhythm, he glanced over the side to see Clover tangled up in the blanket and thrashing to free herself. He saw her grit her teeth and strain herself trying to light her horn up with magic, but only a faint, sickly spark shot from the end of it. The wizard took over for her and magically untangled the blanket. She rolled out of it and settled onto the floorboards.
Sprawled out on the floor, Clover peered up at him with her eyebrows arched. "You couldn't feel the ocean?"
Starswirl put his face in his hooves and massaged it thoroughly as the veil of sleep lifted and took the phantom images with it.
"Strange dream," he said.
But all the same, he felt there had been a core of truth to it, but try as he might, it remained just beyond the reach of his higher mind. As the haze of sleep left his head, he suddenly remembered the stallion who called himself Nightshade and had the power to enter the minds of ponies.
"What did you dream of, Clover?" he asked.
The red-headed filly frowned in concentration, pursing her lips and working her jaw, before she finally admitted, "I can't remember."
Starswirl's eyes went to the stairs, as if waiting for Carmine to appear. "This stallion's enchantments are very powerful. From now on, you must be on your guard against any illusions he may cast."
"Could he appear as you?" she asked.
"It's possible."
"But how will I know it's you?"
Starswirl thought good and hard about that one, for if the stallion could truly draw illusions from a pony's mind, what stopped him from snatching any code or password they decided upon, as well? Or lurking around to overhead what it was?
"You must your best judgment, Clover. But for today we will stick close together. Go see if your father is awake."
As soon as she trudged up the stairs, Starswirl realized the house was eerily quiet and cold, and almost deathly still. Something was missing. After ten seconds, he put his hoof on it: today was the first time in nearly a decade he had woken up outside the limitless embrace of the Harmony, that feeling that he was just one drop in a much larger ocean. Since now he could not glimpse even a slight bit of the Harmony's radiance emanating out of the material around him, the world just seemed so lifeless and forlorn. He sighed and pushed the sadness out of his mind; instead he busied himself checking the kettle hanging on its hook over the hearth. Luckily he found some water left in it from yesterday. He had just levitated some fresh logs into the hearth and cast an enflaming spell on them when Clover trudged down the stairs.
"He's still asleep, I can't wake him, and he smells an awful lot like cider."
"Ah. He'll be nursing a headache for a while. Could you bring me my saddlebag?"
Clover didn't move, save her eyes going to the hearth. "Starswirl," she said bluntly.
"What is it?"
She frowned. "You said two days ago you'd try and fix my horn, and you still haven't done a thing."
Narrowing his eyes at her, he said drolly, "I have been just a little bit busy. Perhaps you remember the trial?"
"No, I ain't forgotten it. But still! That's all over with, so can you please help me?!" As she wailed, she reared back and then stomped her forehooves on the floor.
"Alright, I'll help you, Clover. But you must do something for me, and I don't just mean fetch my saddlebag."

Starswirl laid the quill down on the table, sipped his cup of tea, and checked over the note he had written:

Clover put her chin on the table and read the note. She moaned, "You mean I have to go out and farm corn?!"
"It's that, or staying here and grinding flour."
The filly's ears fell and she grumbled softly to herself. She spat out, "Fine."