//------------------------------// // Circle VII: Sins of the Lion // Story: Where the Sun is Silent // by Cynewulf //------------------------------// Fluttershy, for the first time in her life, didn’t mind the press of the crowd. In fact, the noise and happy bustle of Canterlot’s market was a welcome change from the intimate air of the Sparkles’ living room which she’d had to share with Twilight and her other friends. Friend. It was still true—Twilight was still her friend. There was love and affection between them. Fluttershy had asked herself over the last few months whether it was still true, and every time she’d come up with the same answer: yes. Still, every time the answer seemed further and further out of reach. But shopping was a welcome distraction. Keeping a sharp eye out for good deals on signs kept her from thinking about her troubles. Flanking her on either side were Rainbow Dash and Applejack, both of whom kept their eyes out for the last few must-have items on their collective list. Pinkie, to nopony’s surprise, was up ahead, wandering from stall to stall. Fluttershy considered her talking animatedly with a stall owner. I wish I could just do that—talk to ponies the way Pinkie always manages to. She never has a problem talking about what’s on her mind. From beside her, Applejack grumbled, “I have got to talk to my brother when he gets home from his gallivantin’. This town has a mighty need for quality apples, and I think we could do somethin’ ‘bout it.” “Ah, lighten up,” Rainbow said from Fluttershy’s other side. “They can’t be that bad!” Fluttershy ignored them—she had absolutely no desire to hear anything else after the word “brother”—and watched Pinkie. Rainbow mentioned something about checking out one last stall for quality apples, and Fluttershy gave a brief and merely functional assent. Pinkie was stillchatting amiably with the stall owner, looking over his wears all the while. It was fascinating to Fluttershy how effortlessly Pinkie got the stallion laughing. How she had him genuinely excited to show off his best goods—his most colorful candies, the kind that would make even the strongest of wills weak from halfway down the street. Was it in how she talked, energetically and enthusiastically? She drifted over to the smiling pony’s side as Pinkie finally paid for a bag of treats. As her friend turned and greeted her, Fluttershy gestured towards the others. Fluttershy asked the question that was on her mind. “How do you do it, Pinkie? Speak your mind so easily, I mean.” “Oh, that? I just talk, silly. No, I mean it! He works at a bakery, and I knew he would be proud of his treats because I’m proud of mine, and I asked him about them and complemented him on his presentation and presto! It’s not hard to just talk to ponies, you just have to begin. Once you start, you’ll know what to do.” Fluttershy had a hard time believing that, though it seemed to work for Pinkie. She thought about speaking her mind about red stallions and let the line of inquiry drop. The list was fulfilled, but the girls didn’t want to give up their wanderings quite yet. They dropped the last of the ingredients for dinner into Applejack’s saddlebags and meandered back the way they had come. Here and there they would stop to examine some bit of finery or novelty with no intentions of buying it, just enjoying the vibrant open air market of the ancient city. Fluttershy stayed towards the rear of their party, interested in the moving feast of color and sound but not engaging it. She was content to watch and admire the pretty things from afar. In some ways, it was like Rarity’s boutique when she visited the fashionable mare: shining glories all about, and with her in the middle of them all. You never touched the fragile (or at least, valuable) things. Never for you, Fluttershy. You might break them. Remember when your legs were too long and how you were always tripping? She had always been breaking precious things. Real things and illusions—weren’t these colorful raiments that Pinkie was pointing out to Rainbow an illusion? Like the illusions she’d created about a certain… She simply had to stop thinking this way. Amidst the calling of the vendors, she heard a very different voice calling her name. She stopped and looked around her for the source while her friends walked on, not yet aware of her absence. “Fluttershy.” There, off to her right, a pony in a black hooded cloak sat in the alley. He smiled at her, friendly as could be. Something about that smile made her misgivings at his odd appearance melt away. His eyes glinted strangely in the shadow that his hood made over his face, but she ignored this and faced him. “Y-yes? Who are you, sir? How do you know my name?” “Oh, Fluttershy—we’ve met before! You don’t remember me, I know. We met in passing, here in Canterlot. I believe... the night of the Grand Galloping Gala.” She looked back on her memories of that unfortunate night, but did not recall this strange stallion. “No... sorry...” He flashed her a conciliatory smile. “Oh, but that is quite alright. After all, it was passing moment. My name is Elder Sign, and I am a fortune teller by trade. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” He bowed in a stiff and formal manner, and she blushed. “Oh my... Sorry, I don’t remember. Nice to meet you, Mr. Elder Sign.” Her friends quite forgotten, Fluttershy found herself utterly entranced by this stallion with his strange, almost aristocratic accent. “You’ll forgive me, most kind madame, if I presume upon you for a moment of your time… You seemed rather melancholic! As a teller of fortunes, I have studied the faces and hearts of ponies as much as I have the far and mysterious stars, and I can see what troubles the heart from far off.” She bristled. “I… I’d rather not talk about it, thank you.” The spell momentarily broken, she began to notice certain oddities about him: He seemed uncomfortable in the light, and there was something about his eyes. She couldn’t place what exactly seemed off, though. He backpedaled fiercely. “Oh, I am dreadfully sorry milady! I did not mean to pry into such matters; they are quite rightly kept close and secret from ponies you have only just begun to know.” His voice was so smooth and deep, his delivery of each syllable like the swayings of the poetry she’d learned in her school days. She could feel the glamour come over her again. Oh, he didn’t mean it. I shouldn’t have been so sensitive… Pinkie was right! You just talk to ponies and everything will work out for you. It really is just the starting that’s hard. He continued, “I only wished to offer my condolences, Miss Fluttershy… and perhaps offer you a small trinket of my sincere apology for having presumed to comment on your sadness. It was quite forward of me. Will you take it?” He dug into his cloak and produced a circular amulet. It was a curious thing: old, made of cold iron, and set with a ruby. Around the ruby were woven delicate lines of some black stone which she didn’t recognize. Like dark lace… It’s so pretty. “For me?” she managed to say, surprised at the beauty of her gift. It glittered in the air between them, Elder Sign holding it for her to inspect by the gold chain. “Oh, of course. It’s the least I could do. Here, let us see how it fits you.” She ducked her head for him to bestow it upon her. It was heavy upon her but not overly so. The metal was cold; she could feel it absorbing the heat from her body and warming. “I love it,” she whispered in a little sing-song. “I am very glad, sweet Fluttershy. Now, I believe your friends are looking for you! I’m sorry to have kept you. Until we meet again.” As quickly as he had seemed to appear, he vanished. The amulet grew lighter and lighter, and in a moment it was seemingly gone. Fluttershy blinked. What had she been doing? Rainbow was calling for her, tense worry in her cracking voice, and Fluttershy turned towards her. “Oh, I’m sorry… I must have gotten distracted. I’m sorry, girls.” Rainbow landed beside her. “Fluttershy! Don’t do that to me! We couldn’t find you anywhere! Where were you?” “I… I think I was right here. I don’t remember wandering too far…” “I searched here,” Rainbow said, frowning, but then she sighed and shrugged it off. “Oh well. I guess we found you. Just… be a little safer, okay? C’mon, cheer up, we aren’t mad! Here, we can fly over the crowd and be there in just a minute, alright?” Fluttershy looked down and nodded. The two pegasi took to the sky and glided over to their friends. Left behind, the pony who named himself Elder Sign on a whim watched with a blank expression. He did not smile or chuckle at the success of his ploy—such expressions were beneath him. The black eyes which regarded the retreating form of Fluttershy held nothing but alien hatred and mute anticipation.