//------------------------------// // Chapter 3 – "That no matter who you have become…” // Story: Fading Away // by Prane //------------------------------// What would you do if your life as you know it got suddenly turned upside down? Unlike previous dilemmas, this one can’t be solved by sheer strength of the mind or salutary effect of emotions. The first one, coming from no matter how brilliant one, would not bring the solution while the second, no matter how sincere, would not bring real comfort. In the end, it is the power coming from within your soul that helps you face unexpected and unwelcome life changes. And overcome them, achieving true serenity for your troubled self. You would transcend beyond sadness, despair and overwhelming uncertainty, trying to make every moment count and every remaining second worthwhile. And that’s exactly what Rarity of Ponyville did. * * * Just my luck. As if the atmosphere wasn’t depressing enough, to make matters worse it started to rain. The train approached the southern slope of Macintosh Hills, a monumental mountain-chain guarding Equestrian borders for centuries, and Spike was listening to heavy drops drumming and splashing on their compartment’s window. “So, what’s the deal with those letters, anyway?” he asked, checking for the fifth time if his sack was still safely placed above his head. Or rather, next to his head, as the compartment – obviously not designed for growing dragons – was only barely comfortable. “Didn’t Rarity know that I’ve been… traveling?” Twilight was resting, curled up on the only cherry red seat not occupied by Spike or his massive tail. “Sometimes things we do aren’t exactly supported by what we know,” she opened her eyes, “but rather by what we believe in. Rarity has been sending them for many years now… and she never gave up.” “But wasn’t that for nothing? Didn’t you see the way they are addressed?” Spike reached for the sack and took one of the envelopes. “Spike the Dragon, Canterlot. She knew that I left Canterlot, she even mentioned it!” “Not every letter was sent to Canterlot,” Twilight said, leaving Spike’s face abashed. She sat up more comfortably. “From what Rarity told me, whenever she couldn’t tell the exact place, region or at least a landmark close to your likely whereabouts, she addressed them with a major city and hoped that you’ll get it eventually,” Twilight explained. “Spike the Dragon, Hoofington. Spike the Dragon, Las Pegasus. Spike the Dragon, Cloudsdale. And so on.” Spike glanced outside to see fallow lands, grey hills and withered bushes passing by. No wonder he didn’t get any letters, none of the above would work for a proper address. Spike the Dragon, Some Not So Active Volcano, that’s where he’s been spending his time lately. Only now he realized how important it was for Rarity to contact him, and if one could be proud and ashamed at the same time, that’s exactly how he felt. “Are you telling me… that there are letters scattered all over Equestria…” “With your name on them, yes,” Twilight finished. “I never had a chance to collect them, sorry,” she reached for the periwinkle bag. “Some are probably lying in the archives administrated by post offices, others got likely lost or destroyed-“ Spike’s heart cringed “-and some, upon finding no receiver, were simply returned to sender.” As Twilight opened her bag, Spike tried to adopt a more comfortable position, but he only managed to leave a nasty rip across the seats with his spines. “This is the last one I got, about a year ago,” Twilight passed another letter. Again, the magical layer dispersed with a quiet swoosh, releasing the fragrance of lavender across the compartment. Thickness of the paper absorbed the ink without letting it spread beyond lines and circles of Rarity’s perfect writing style. She really could pour her beauty into anything and everything she did… and it was only one of a thousand things Spike adored about her. “Those three went through Canterlot,” Twilight said, putting the bag away. “I knew you would read them one day, so I did my best to save them for you.” Spike the Dragon, Canterlot smiled and plunged into reading. Dear Spikey-Wikey, You probably think that I am preparing for this year’s Grand Galloping Gala just now – wrong! Actually, I am at the Ponyville Hospital, bored to death. I asked Flickerflight (my assistant at the boutique – she’s from Hoofington, I suppose you two haven’t met) to bring me my favorite stationery so I could write to you – although believe me, doctor Redheart really frowns upon that! As I was saying, I got here due to some minor health issue (nothing more than a migraine, really), and since it is already past visiting hours I have NOTHING to do. Rainbow Dash, of course, tried to enter through the window, but she got entangled in those awfully mismatched curtains. Long story short, she got chased out by doctor Redheart. That mare is no fun at all, I tell you that. Still, it was rather exhilarating after all these hours of waiting for tests results. To fight the boredom I started reminiscing about the past years, and I thought about you, Spike! About our little adventure with the Diamond Dogs, about how you’ve become a rampaging dragon (let us not speak of the time I’ve become a herald of gloom, with all that extraterrestrial Nightmare Forces to do my bidding) and of course how you – with a little help from Princess Cadence – saved the whole Crystal Empire from the blackened hooves of that black-hearted, black-maned king Sombra! Those were the days… Hope to see you someday! Yours, Rarity Spike put the letter away with the others. “She sounds so full of life,” he reflected, staring at trickles of water flowing down the glass. “Yet she's dying. What happened?” If sorrow was a color, Twilight’s face would be covered with all of its shades. “I don’t really know,” she admitted. “It’s beyond our medicine, even with all the research I've done. I gathered a lot of documentation on this kind of illnesses from all across Equestria, I even cross-checked it with similar causes from the Griffin Kingdom!” she started to breath faster and speak louder. “There is no cure, and it will be elusive for many years from now!” “The Kingdoms got united?” Spike pulled away from the window and looked back at Twilight. “I’ve been gone for far too long… Twilight?” The royal alicorn mare burst into tears. “I’ve done all I could, but I failed her!” she put her face in her hooves, her heart pounding like a hammer. “I talked to Celestia, Luna, sought help amongst crystal ponies… even consulted Discord on this matter! I just…” she gasped for breath. “I just feel so useless right now, just like I felt when your mentor died! I know you and Rarity were close, I’m sorry to fail her... to fail you now! And I’m sorry I failed you back then!” “No! No, listen!” Spike intervened, aware that their mutual friend’s illness wasn’t the only burden on Twilight’s back, and how unfairly she treated herself because of that. “That whole situation was pretty messed up, we’ve got ambushed by dragon extremists, Kryvarost got hit. You did the right thing teleporting us and the whole Equestrian representative committee out of there!” Spike tried to move closer to Twilight, but his spines got stuck in the back seat again. He struggled to release himself. “If it weren’t for you, we’d all be dead. Listen!” he finally managed to reach Twilight’s head. He lifted her muzzle and looked deep into her watery eyes. “You didn’t fail me.” “But…” Twilight sniffled, “but I was the one who came up with the idea of the Dragon Registration Decree! I traded a friend for a political solution!” Spike shook his head. “The Dragon Dominion is very easy to provoke, even if the death of their ambassador wasn’t Equestria’s fault,”, he said. “Somepony less diplomatic than you would just declare war on them, and that would not end well for either of sides. Tell me, what was the point of the decree?” “I just wanted to make sure that dragons living peacefully within Equestrian borders wouldn’t rampage straight to Canterlot…” “That’s right!” Spike nodded. “You were willing to seek good in them, and it was me blinded by Kryvarost’s death who couldn’t see that good in you… or myself, for that matter.” In the prolonged silence that followed, only the steady sound of the train’s wheels was heard. “You…” Twilight said after a while, “You’re not blaming me?” “I made that horrible mistake once,” Spike took the mare into his muscular arms and hugged her. And, to his relief, she hugged him back. “I should have never-ever blamed you, Twi,” he whispered. “Or doubted in you.” The train entered a tunnel beneath Macintosh Hills and wrapped them in darkness, but they both knew that there were better, brighter days to come. Maybe it was because the compartment was really cramped, or maybe because they really needed that, but they remained in that comforting embrace for a few good minutes. And they would probably last even longer if Twilight, tired of wandering and searching for the long-gone dragon, hadn’t fell asleep.