The waking world.
The whispering leaves.
The hushed response of a sleepy brook.
The stems of light stretching through the yawning trees that opened to the heavens, unveiling another perfect morning at the wooded outskirts of Ponyville. As had always been the case, Fluttershy was already up, already chipper, already greeting the world anew as it groggily peeked at Celestia’s faithful sunrise. It was her favorite time of day. The time when nature sprung back to life. Everything felt new and fresh in the morning. She had, by now, woken her woodland friends, and was tending to her vegetable garden when a cool breeze rushed through the forest. She paused a moment, allowing herself the time to breathe in the virgin air, scented with pine and earth and a telltale hint of distant apples. It was, all-in-all, shaping up to be a very pleasant, very average day. And Fluttershy could not have asked for anything more.
As weeds came up and seeds tumbled down, her thoughts trailed from the day ahead to years gone by. Friends, once so close, now scattered. Voices only heard through letters. Faces only seen in dreams. She didn’t like change. At least, not certain kinds of change. She loved new things. New seasons, new flowers, new friends. But the inhale of new was always followed by the exhale of old. That was the change she couldn’t stand. The death of a tree, the distancing of a friend, even the end of a good book left her with a touch of emptiness. But there were always two sides to change, and her wandering thoughts were interrupted by the former.
“Momma!”
Fluttershy turned towards her cottage, quaint as ever, and there in the open doorway, was Springtime. Her little filly. Her daughter of nearly two years. Towering not far behind her, in all his stoic nonchalance, was Big Macintosh. He’d hoped one of these days to surprise his wife with even a simple breakfast in bed, but she always seemed hours ahead of him; at times, he suspected she never actually slept at all. But he could hardly feel disappointed. All the little things in their life kept him happy, little Springtime most of all. Their daughter was fuzzier than most ponies. Her sherbet orange coat with a natural puff and her bouncy, snow-white mane gave the foal an even cuter, rounder shape. Fluttershy thought she was unstoppably adorable but feared that, later in life, her puffiness might be grounds for teasing. Ain’t nothin’ to worry about, Big Mac had reassured her. She wasn’t sure why, but his simple words always seemed to carry an extra weight. Perhaps because they were always genuine.
But it was Fluttershy’s nature to worry, even more so now in the dawn of motherhood. And as Springtime ran down the front stoop to greet her, the excited filly tripped and tumbled, rolling down the dirt path that weaved its way up to the cottage.
“Oh! My goodness!” Fluttershy squeaked as she flew to Springtime’s side, gathering her up in her forehooves. “Are you alright, little one?” A far cry from upset, Springtime’s face was lit up like the night sky, bursting with giggles. Fluttershy’s heart slowly returned to its normal pace. “Aww, of course you are,” she chirped, nuzzling her filly’s stomach. “You’ve got all that extra fur to keep you safe.” As she cradled her baby girl, Springtime began to nibble at the ends of her mother’s mane – an odd affinity, to say the least, but Fluttershy didn’t have the heart to deny her daughter’s favorite snack.
“Are you going out today?” Fluttershy asked, throwing a sweetened look to Big Mac.
“Eeyup,” came his ever-familiar reply. Fluttershy knew he liked yes-or-no questions best and had fallen into the habit of using them almost exclusively. On more than one occasion, she’d caught herself unwittingly boring a friend with her oversimplified conversation. A small price to pay for such a beautiful life.
“Are you heading over to see Applejack?” Fluttershy pried, knowing to fish for answers one question at a time.
“Eeyup,” Big Mac said with a proud grin and a nod.
“Would you, um, mind waiting until I get back?” Fluttershy asked, her eyes shifting nervously. She never liked asking for favors. “I need to get a few things in town for Springtime’s birthday.”
“Eenope.”
“Aww,” Fluttershy cooed, sweeping Springtime up into the air. “Isn’t your daddy the best?”
“Dadda!” Springtime cheered, flapping her arms and giggling out bubbles of drool.
Fluttershy drifted back down, plopping her fluffy ball of drooling sunshine atop her husband’s mussy mane. “You two are more alike than I’d ever admit,” she laughed. “I’ll be back in a bit, sweetheart.” She kissed Big Mac on the tip of his snout, which always roused a bigger blush out of him, and took off trotting towards Ponyville.
Big Mac peered up through his tousled waves of dirty blonde hair at his wide-eyed filly.
“Eeeeyup.”
The Ponyville market was fairly busy that morning, though Fluttershy still felt it rather hollow. The quiet little town had grown over the years as word of “Princess Twilight’s favorite village” spread. But even as new ponies arrived, so too did old ones leave, and no matter who came or went, the atmosphere was never quite perfect without Pinkie. Few ponies ever knew why she left. Fewer still, to where. Every mare and stallion in town had their theories, their speculations. They ranged from simple home-goings to wild accusations of debauchery and blood magic. But even those who knew her best had little idea of what truly occurred. The only thing that was for certain was the uncomfortable stillness left behind.
That Fluttershy was out shopping for party supplies only served to make matters worse. How many balloons? Which color streamers? What kind of cake? Pinkie would have known. Well, Fluttershy giggled to herself, Pinkie probably would have had the whole thing planned by the time I even got here.
Fluttershy’s fond memories and cozy smile lingered as she made her way from shop to shop, picking out the most modest decorations she could find. Nothing fancy. Fancy meant expensive, and even though Big Mac’s job at Sweet Apple Acres kept them comfortable, it wasn’t quite “fancy”.
“Well, hello there, Fluttershy!” An overly perky voice ripped through the bustling air.
“Eeep!” Fluttershy jumped back. She looked up, unsure of how she’d quite gotten to where she was, which at present, was in Sugarcube Corner, face-to-face with Mrs. Cake.
“My, you always were a skittish one, hmm?” the brightly-colored mare chuckled. Fluttershy had always enjoyed Mrs. Cake’s company, with her lively personality and her frosting mane and tail. She was the closest thing to a Pinkie Pie the town had anymore. At the moment, however, Fluttershy was feeling unquestionably self-conscious, as she was often wont to do.
“Oh, um, it’s just, well,” she stammered. “You see… I wasn’t really expecting to see you.”
“Here?” Mrs. Cake puzzled.
“Um.”
“In my shop?”
“Uh.”
“In the middle of the work day?”
“oh…”
Mrs. Cake could see Fluttershy shrinking with every question. “Well, that seems reasonable enough,” she touted.
Fluttershy unfurled, her head perking back up. “It… it does?”
Mrs. Cake offered only the warmest of smiles. “Sure thing, dearie. Now what can I do ya for?”
“Oh!” Fluttershy blurted, tripping a bit over her own hooves. “I need a birthday cake. Springtime is turning two next week.”
“Well isn’t that just precious!” Mrs. Cake cheered. “I tell ya what, you’ve got yourself the cutest little marshmallow baby this side of the Cloudsdale cloud factory.”
“Um…”
“Now you just sit tight, I’ve got the perfect cake for you in the back.” With that, she disappeared into the frosty mists of cold storage.
Not ten minutes later, she emerged to find Fluttershy sitting precisely where she’d left her. In her mouth, Mrs. Cake carried a box strung with elaborate gold ribbon. She set it gingerly on the counter and opened the lid. Fluttershy peeped inside to find a luscious pink cake topped with a veritable waltz of icing and fresh strawberries. In the center, in perfect cursive, read “Happy Birthday Spring Thyme”.
“Did the lettering myself!” Mrs. Cake boasted loudly. “Pretty darn good if I do say so.”
“It’s um… it’s actually…” Fluttershy caught Mrs. Cake’s proud and expectant look. “It’s perfect,” she sighed with a smile. “Thank you.”
And so, with a basketful of goodies clenched in a satisfied grin, Fluttershy finally made her way along the slow, meandering path home. Once again, her thoughts etched their way back to Pinkie Pie. It wasn’t the worst thing, she supposed. There were always two sides to change. Sure the town was quiet, but quiet wasn’t always bad. It was then that she noticed a silence far more unsettling than the one in town. She froze in her tracks and perked her ears.
Nothing.
She dug a hoof in her ear, but came up empty. Usually, at this time of day, the woods were alive with singing birds and rustling leaves and the sleepy grumbles of hungry bears looking for a snack at the cottage. But the air was still. It was thick. It was wrong.
The sky began to darken, crusting over with an unsavory sort of cloud. Fluttershy felt a shiver run from muzzle to tail. She resumed a quicker pace back home, suddenly desperate for the safe embrace of her husband and her cottage. She felt her mane, her tail, even the fur of her coat begin to stand on end, as if Pinkie had rubbed her with too many party balloons. The air was charged. Then, without warning, the sky lit up. A bolt of lightning carved brilliantly towards the horizon, scorching the clouds a burnt, copper tone in its wake. Awed by the unnatural light show, Fluttershy seemingly forgot that every lightning strike brings with it a roar of thunder. An echoing boom tore through the trees and breached the very earth itself. Everything shook violently, as if the foundations of the world were giving way.
She could hear the distant moans of a frightened foal. Her wings were frightened enough on their own, and refused to open, but Fluttershy sprinted home as fast as her legs would allow. When the speckling of leaves finally relented, and the cottage pulled into view, she spotted Big Mac on the front lawn, staring bewildered up at the broken sky. A whimpering Springtime clung dearly to the back of his neck. Several of the cottage windows had been cracked. She ran up beside them, haphazardly dropping the basket at her hooves.
“Whad’ya reckon that was?” Big Mac pondered, never taking his eyes off the blazing sky.
“I- I don’t know!” Fluttershy quivered, instinctively cuddling into her husband’s rough, familiar coat. “I just hope that’s the last of it.”
“Eeenope.”
Fluttershy heard a crackling in the air, one she’d heard before. One the whole of Equestria knew. She peered up just in time to see a blur of colors burn through the sky, a shock of rainbow speeding off towards the same horizon. It was low to the ground – too low – a whirlwind stripping leaves off trees and birdhouses off perches.
“Oh, no no no, everypony in the house, please!” Fluttershy was frantic and vocal, and Big Mac knew that meant business. He darted into the cottage, with Fluttershy close at his heels. No sooner had the door slammed behind her than a heavy, entrancing wave of rainbow crashed over them, carrying a sonic explosion that shattered every window in the house. All three ponies cowered on the floor for what seemed an eternity before the commotion finally passed. Their hearts racing, Big Mac and Fluttershy exchanged quizzical glances. Between the two powerful shockwaves, the cottage was reminiscent of a weekend visit from Discord. But cleaning would have to wait. Something far bigger was clearly underway.
Fluttershy gathered herself, shaking the dust out of her wings. She forced a timid smile. Sweet Celestia, how many times, in all their brazen adventures, had she forced a smile for her friends? And this, of all those moments, was the hardest. She was petrified. Not just of the earth-shattering forces rocketing across the Equestrian plains, but of what she knew it meant for her. Somehow, in her heart of hearts, she saw herself entangled in another web. Another story she’d rather read than write. Everything she’d hoped she had set aside to raise her family. Somehow, she knew it would drag her back in. And so, she forced a timid smile.
“Well,” she said, chewing nervously at her lip, “I think maybe we should all pay a visit to Auntie Applejack.”