The empty parchment, worn, brown, and with edges slightly curled, still sat on the table at the side of the room, partnered with the ready quill which laid right next to it. They were as unused as they had been since yesterday, awaiting fulfillment of their purpose. But the more Twilight stared at the blank canvas before her the more she just couldn't bring herself to begin writing anything on it. She shut her eyes to block out the image of the unwritten page, a barren face which mocked her inability to generate a report, and she rubbed her temple while groaning.
Maybe she should try to do something else instead. AGAIN. Her magic enveloped a different, far busier sheet of paper and floated it over to her. It was a schedule, partially fixed since her return, and it harbored the demands placed upon her for the remainder of the day and even some of tomorrow. There was still plenty more to correct on it due to her recent excursion, not to mention actually fulfilling all the responsibilities it enumerated, but... ugh... she only stared vapidly at it. Her struggling focus didn't settle on that parchment either.
Placing the schedule back where she had taken it from, she wandered to the window and gazed outside. Out in the clear, shining sunlight, Ponyville seemed as normal as it ever was. But inside the more muggy and musky library nothing had been particularly ordinary for weeks, and less so today. Not long after the brief encounter with James earlier, she had heard the man leave; it had come in the telltale frustrated sound of a slamming front door. She couldn't help but worry about him. Somehow it was even worse than the last time he had stormed out. Before, she had wished that he hadn't gone, had convinced herself that she was worried about him only, and then secretly had worried more about herself and how she had believed she had failed. Now this time, she KNEW she had to let him go and had to trust whomever he had gone to see (if anypony,) and she also had to have the strength to rise above herself and worry purely for him.
She shook her head and focused again on the streets outside. There wasn't any sign of him.
Sighing, she turned away and looked about the room once more. So much to do, yet it felt empty of value. In the face of a certain challenge before her, the more regular rigors of her life lost their meaning. So much to do, so nothing to do. She needed something to help ease her sore headache.
Fatigued, she made her way downstairs and went to the kitchen where she immediately filled a teapot with water and set it to warm upon the stove. From a cabinet high on the wall she drew out a single teacup, and then from the pantry she pulled out a bag of her favorite tea. A warm beverage, a fragrant flavor, and a few quiet minutes were hopefully all the antidote that she needed. Leaving the items aside, she sat down and watched the pot never boil.
Come on...
Still no tea whistle. Better take a peek out of the kitchen window while waiting. Nope, nothing there.
She went back to watching the teapot, humming impatiently to herself.
Geez, this water must have started out really cold. Was there anything out the window? No? Okay, back to the pot-watch. But maybe another quick look outside wouldn't hurt. Nope, nothing still.
She ran several laps around the kitchen like that, meandering from stove to window. For several minutes she was inescapably snagged in an idle-minded rhythm, until her compulsive cycle suddenly broke. After more than a dozen glances out the window she had quickly built up the habit of turning away once she had gotten her momentary glimpse. She nearly made that mistake on one particular lap before she realized with popping eyes that... there James was!
She would have turned right around and zoomed to the front door if she hadn't immediately caught notice of how he walked. Chin to chest, forgotten eyes, and an all-consuming downcast look, like every stormcloud for miles had been herded over him. He trodded sullenly from one side of the glass view to the other and then he was gone from sight. Several seconds later, from the other room, there was the steady creak of door swinging open followed immediately by the slow sound of it solemnly drifting shut.
Twilight stayed staring out the window, locked in some spell of thought, and she was freed only when the teapot behind her suddenly called for her attention, sputtering wet tweets. She rushed over and shut the flame off while shifting the pot from the hot stovetop to a cold one, but then she only sat idle again as the cries of the teapot wound down. Her mind wandered, hoping and helpless, and eventually her eyes started to wander too. The lone teacup and the single bag of tea settled into her view.
After three or four minutes, she came waltzing out of the kitchen with two fresh cups of tea floating carefully besides her. The steam rising from them left a fragrant trail that lagged in air behind her. The man was already seated on the floor against the wall, as he so often sat. Slumped in one of the shaded edges of the room, his attention was fixed on the floor as he absorbed the darkness about him.
The unicorn eased over towards him before she compulsively whisked a thick wool coaster under one of her hot beverages and set it down on the smoothed wooden flooring before him. She hated the informality of just leaving the cup on the floor, but... "Here," she said, "this is some of the jasmine peach tea that Fluttershy sent you. I was making my own tea and... I thought you might like to have some of yours, too." She placed another coaster under her own teacup and set it down in front of herself, wishing all the while that he had chosen a location nearer to a table or shelf. Drinks set, she relaxed her legs and sat down across from him, a comfortable distance away.
His head picked up faintly, observing the softly steaming drink before him and the friendly, nervously smiling pony beyond. But he didn't take the cup or acknowledge the pony, and his eyes merely floated back down to the floor.
Twilight used the man's brief stirring to steal some observations. It was clear to her that his tiredness had only been compounding since he was last here. There was a frozen stiffness lodged in him, yet still his body was limp and sagging like he had been aggressively drained of energy. The small shifting movements of his neck had all the harshness of two stones grinding together. And his eyes... they were washed in a deep and painful red. He had been crying.
Downhearted and with a sunken spirit, she tried to act and sound casual as she began to ramble, "So, ah... I... I noticed that you left earlier and... I mean, that's not a problem, I'm not your keeper... and... now you're back... and, uh... I know that I've... sort of been on top of you a lot... like, I'm always, you know, basically, uh... interrogating you... and stepping into your personal space and everything and, ah... I do think I should try and curb that, but, um... but I have to ask just now... did you... did you go talk to Applejack, by any chance?" She dropped a tiny sigh out of her nose, understanding quite well just how fidgety she was being and how stupid and desperate she sounded.
But the man offered nothing. No words, or gestures, nor any movements at all. He gave no semblance of a response.
"Alright, ah," Twilight muttered as her head sunk, "is... is it okay then if... if I just sit here for a little bit? And if you feel like answering you can. I mean, take your time! If you want to answer, that is. No rush or anything, ah..." She started to anxiously lift her teacup with her magic but her control was so unrefined that the drink wobbled and nearly spilled all over the floor. Quickly setting it down with a panicked cringe, she continued on nervously, "B-but, uh... if... if I'm bothering you or... or if you want to be left alone, that's okay too. You can just say so and... and, uh, I can... I can go..." Trembling and slow, she picked her rear partially up off the wood and held it there, ready to depart at a moment's notice. But she held back; she wished for a specific answer first.
Still, the man was only emotionless and uncommitted.
She trepidatiously returned her butt to the floor. "So... it's alright if I just... wait?" she hoped. "I'm, uh... I'm sorry for babbling, eheh..."
Everything about him continued to be neither this way or that way, and so the encounter coasted into a long silence. The unicorn merely waited in the soundless noise for the living statue to do something, or anything even. Now and again, with significant concentration, she picked up her teacup to blow some cooling air on it, or to skittishly and slowly swish it about, or even to take a sip or two.
It wasn't with a crash but with a whisper that James started to move. He crept along almost motionlessly, as slow as the dawning sun. Like the algorithmic motions of a robot, he went step by step. First there was a lean forward, then there was a lowered arm, then his fingers pushed through the handle of his teacup, and finally he picked it up. It was practically performance art; a pony trapped in hardening cement.
Twilight's apprehensive attitude was injected with a fresh mix of strange excitement upon the sight. She straightened up her posture, her ears shot up, she leaned in, and her eyes welled with anticipation.
But the man took no sip, nor did he puff away any heat, nor did he roll the teacup gently in the air. He held it loosely in his hand and looked over what he had grasped for a dozen lengthy seconds, studying it like some valuable find from an ancient ruin. It lasted so long that it was a surprise again when his voice finally emerged. Sore and hoarse, there was graininess to his sound as he heaved a little to get his throat muscles going again. He asked oddly, "Why do you even have loops in your teacups if you don't have any fingers?"
It was such a perfectly silly question. It shattered the frosty walls of ice that ran between them, leaving not a shard behind. Twilight smiled.
Put instantly at ease, she was able to answer in a direct and simple fashion, "It's just a matter of style, mostly. That's how teacups have always been made since antiquity. It's sort of embedded into the idea of what a teacup is at this point." She lightly scrutinized the cup which floated in front of her and tapped it gingerly with her hoof. "But really, fingers aren't strictly needed. A pony with a steady hoof could pick them up by the handle too."
"So stupid...," James murmured back, "... you mean like how Applejack doffs her hat somehow, right?" He shook his disbelieving head before he spontaneously asked her, "Prove it."
"Oh, well, I pretty much always use my magic, but... okay, I guess I can try." She gently set her teacup back down and released her magical grip. Her hoof came out and she pressed it right up against the elegantly curved handle, jiggling the cup on its coaster. Then, through some ridiculousness far beyond the man's ability to explain and way outside his true concern to comprehend, the teacup rose as she lifted her hoof up, as if there was some form of ceramic magnet secreted away inside her leg. Twilight only brought the drink a few inches off the ground. Her slight apprehension in the moment and her overall lack of manual practice had the cup shaking extensively in her hoof, with waves of hot tea biting at its lips. "Aha!" she still declared triumphantly before she swiftly set her drink back down.
The man whispered something under his breath that for all its vulgarity still had twinges of amusement. He at last took a sip of his own tea.
The warm calm that descended upon the two friends left the unicorn with a pleasant smile and she was more than happy to let the time pass quietly while they both nipped at their drinks. The tea cooled to a cozy temperature, it disappeared slowly from their cups, and minute after minute rolled by without a word being exchanged between them, though never once was the library air disturbed with awkward tingles.
Eventually James took his final sip, throwing the cup back and giving it a shake to dislodge the last drops of tea. Afterwards, he held his teacup out and on its side; nothing but empty air poured out.
As he set it back down on its coaster, Twilight proposed, "If you need any more, I can-"
The man shook his head, backed by a small wave of his hand.
"Okay," the amiable pony nodded, setting her own nearly drained drink back down. She paused for a moment before she very knowingly intoned, "Do you need anything at all?"
He delayed in responding. It was a fight for him to come to a decision. But eventually, without focus in his eyes or much strength in his body, he stated, "... Applejack thought I should talk to you."
The statement surprised Twilight. Gnawing teeth of worry bit her from behind; fearful that her seemingly sensible choice to have trusted her friend may have somehow been ill-made. She immediately and genuinely apologized, "Oh, I'm sorry for ping ponging you. I didn't think-"
"I mean," James interrupted, again with a wave of his hand, "she said a lot of stuff besides, but that was one of her recommendations."
"Oh, okay." A great happiness stirred inside the unicorn, swiftly relieving her and dispelling the foolish worries that had tried to mire her. From all the way across town she felt her friend's encouragement. Just like at Heartwood, when her strength had been sapped and she could no longer stand on her own, the farm pony's honest and powerful support held her up and covered for her weakness.
Renewed, she looked straight at James and asked, "So... do you want to talk?"
He was almost pale and his body shook involuntarily in several places. He turned his head away and he answered, "If it were up to me? No... but... I guess it doesn't matter what I want..."
"No. It does matter," Twilight quickly resisted his defeated pessimism. "Like I said before: if you yourself have no vested interest in figuring this out then there really isn't any point in anypony trying to help. I can be supportive and I can try to make things better where I can, but I can't control how you feel. And none of us can truly do anything to help without you." Not with begging and pleading but in unequivocal offering she said, "You have to want our help."
"I want...," he began, his aura still dark and cold. "I just want... everything to stop." There was something tortured and tired in his words; something within that was devoid of life. "I want to see my family again. My friends. My life, my world." The control he had built up over his emotions after confronting Applejack started to break down again. "I want to have had the choice to have come here or not."
For Twilight, the world about her shrunk away and disappeared. There was a solitary instant where she was the only being in existence, and the anguish of what he had expressed passed through the void directly into her, unfiltered by the biases of the world. The stranglingly heavy, deafeningly loud, immeasurably deep, helplessly dark, profoundly painful truth struck her all at once, without forgiving leniency or hesitant mercy. She could have groped about in the waking darkness forever, searching for answers for him, and never would she have stumbled upon the terror that lingered in the suffocating shadows. Now, in a single heartbreaking instant, she grasped it all at once.
It was overwhelming.
She had always implicitly understood he had been through a difficult transition; even a blind mare would have seen that. And it was deeper than all the explosions, life-threatening danger, and dynamic action that had occurred at the moment of crossing over. She understood factually that he had parted with a place steeped in spiritual comfort: home. He had been ripped away and taken to new, different place in the blink of an eye. A place that had none of the safety of the old. But the agonized truth of that change had never become real to her, until now. Somehow it had always lurked beyond her imagination, as if the pain that change inflicted were only mythical, false, ignorable, or impossible. Whether she had been so caught up in having an alien to study, or so self-consciously burdened by the tasks that she always had to complete, or so proudly engaged in promoting her ideals of friendship... or ANYTHING... something so essential and so personal had escaped her all this time. The infinite depth of this tragedy finally, finally caught up to her.
"I'm so sorry...," she whimpered. It trickled out of her like the last gasps of a deflating balloon. "All this time and... and I never even realized-" But then something sharp pierced her; a moment of linked emotions between the unicorn and the man. Her eyes watered. "I... I've been a truly horrible friend," she whispered in a subdued breath.
"Don't you start!" James immediately warned her, awash with an upset anger. "You've... you've been wedging yourself into some things that... that I don't think are really your business anyway, yeah. But- but that...," he tensed up, hard and sharp, "... that doesn't make it a fuc-" He caught himself just in time and held his tongue back, allowing himself a moment to breath before he continued with better, quieter control, "-doesn't make it a crime to care." There was a shameful drop to his head. "... And to even keep caring, especially when you have every reason to stop."
It was a comforting acknowledgment to hear from him but Twilight stayed slumped in defeated despondency as a few small tears dripped their way out of her sunless eyes. In the ensuing sad, thoughtful silence, her expanded mind seemed to automatically grasp at grander things; to reach out over the furtherest horizons; to look over every bigger picture; to try to find some reason and rationality in this unnecessary tragedy; to discover SOMETHING that would help her understand. Drifting through thought and mind, her attention somehow fell upon her own memories and history: how her life did or didn't relate to his; who she was; where she had been; where she was going.
"I really... grew up relatively lonely," she broke the stillness in a low, dry voice.
The man listened.
"I mean, not that-... I ever felt like that. I didn't have trouble with it at the time. How would I have known, really? I had my brother, and my foalsitter, and my parents, and my studies. I... well... I never really thought about it... but I didn't really have all that much of true, meaningful, personal value." She grimaced at the retroactive truth of her thought. In those days, no matter what she had dreamed of, she would have never dared to ask for anything more than she already had. But hindsight let her understand how little she had allowed herself. In one way she was happy that she had dodged what could have been a long age of having despaired over the things that she didn't have, but in another way she was remorseful for all that she had missed in that time. "I didn't have all that much in the way of... you know... friends," she sighed. "I probably trotted by Gadget over a hundred times in the streets of Canterlot and never noticed her even once. Another filly who I would have immediately gotten along with; who could've been a great friend, and I never once looked her way."
Her personal story replayed itself and, though she was swimming through a gloomy mire, her spirit suddenly brightened. "Then one day," she continued, "that all started to change. One by one, little miracles came into my life." Her smile appeared, and then it broadened as her eyes sparkled with the dazzling light of love. "I was accepted in Princess Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns, including becoming the Princess's personal student! Then I was GIVEN somepony who has become the closest, most loyal, most faithful companion I have ever known; Spike... And later, I moved to Ponyville where I have made such incredible and unforgettable friends! And so much more! And... and who knows what else might still happen?
"My life so far," she concluded firmly, full of an accepted, inspiring, remembered realization, "even if I've been tested for it from time to time, has been a magical life full of gaining such wonderful things, one after the other." Her bright face then faded behind a cloudy concern. "James," she said somberly, "I don't understand what's been happening to you... I can't..."
A shock ran through the man, from head to toe. He saw a mirror of his own words, as had been delivered to Applejack, now reflected honestly back at him.
But then Twilight snapped up, stalwart, any remaining traces of despair fleeing from her without pause. "I can't... I can't YET...," she went on with courageous determination. "So, I think I really have to try! To try and understand, and do something! If you'll let me..."
James pulled into himself, quiet and alone. But then, in the tiniest reversal of the tide, with the dimmest light of a new sun, with the faintest opening note of an orchestral symphony, he squeaked with the voice of a mouse, "... I want help..."
The unicorn drifted the two dry teacups away, coasters and all. Picking herself up, she took several steps forward so that she was immediately in front of her friend then sat right back down. "Then that's what you're going to get," she steadfastly told him with an extended hoof placed on his shoulder.
The air rung with hope.
But like all echoing noises it diminished with each pulse. The troubled pony withdrew her hoof as she watched him fight to hold on to her promise of salvation. The words she had given him had offered him something: some groundwork; some foundation on which to build his hopes. But outside of that, they had only been just words. Inside, he seemed to be fighting a losing battle; lost without a road to follow; blind without a light to lead. He was succumbing to himself.
The aimless silence ticked by, second after second.
"Tell me something," Twilight suddenly encouraged out of the blue. Broad, open, and free.
"What?" the confounded man asked.
"Tell me something," she said again. "Anything. Whether it's something that you think is important to all this or not. Neither of us really knows what exactly to do, right? But we have to start somewhere. So how about, at least just once, I stop trying to pick you apart on my own and give you the chance to lead us somewhere. Anywhere." With inviting warmth she offered again, "Tell me something."
James swallowed once, letting out a reserved sigh afterwards. He couldn't pull something from the absolute chaos of his mind. There was a directionless jumble in his head; scattered thoughts that meshed together or pulled apart without purpose or meaning; ideas distorted from being caught up in a million places he didn't want to be. Screams of the past, worries of the future, destinies of yesterday, fates of tomorrow; any time he tried to bring all his mental strength to bear on a single thought his racing mind only steered him away.
Just like when Princess Celestia had departed from his company at Canterlot; just like when Applejack had erected a hurdle his fear couldn't lead him away from; he felt like he was going to burst open and all his vulnerabilities were going to come pouring out and drown him. He was going to be eaten alive by his own despair. The slow death that had been consuming him was going to finish its lengthy work at last.
With his personal comfort eradicated, with his wits incapable of grasping momentary concerns, and his confusion swirling about him, he began spitting out words. There was one thing within him that was just as distorted as his broken state of mind, and maybe, just maybe, he had the power to ramble on it.
"These nightmares I've been having...," he murmured with uncertain fear, "... in them I keep... I keep seeing... memories of old and dear places... places with lots of personal history. And people. Sometimes I see the faces of... familiar people... people I love. But... all those old things..." The agitating images flashed in his mind against his own control, and he trembled. "... They're always... they're always different than they were. They're never completely as they're supposed to be."
A sour, subdued, frightened, defensive rage peeked out of his voice. "There's always bits of Equestria tangled up in everything. There's always ponies there, standing in for the friends or family that I used to have. Or if I do see other people that I know, I never get to engage with them... only the ponies ever interact with me."
He felt his fist involuntarily ball up. It shook as it squeezed tighter and tighter, and his nails pressed into his palm so hard that it nearly drew blood. He had to grip his wrist to get it to ease up. The experience startled him; how he had sensed his body react to a dark power inside that he hadn't been able to immediately contain. He actually felt terrified. "And lately...," he revealed to the unicorn, "... there's been... an anger... such anger..." Warped images of a knife and Applejack's throat blinked in his mind.
His words on his anger were hardly necessary. Now that he had opened himself up, Twilight could see it clearly for herself. Beyond his distraught and forsaken gloom, like being caught out in a storm on an already bad day, his buried hostility emerged without a shadow to cover it. A rage built up against the world and even life itself, spurred on by these invading dream-ponies who were assaulting memories that he held so dear. She conjectured, seeking his confirmation, "And that's what bothers you so badly about your dreams? What you're seeing? Witnessing your valued memories being consumed or taken apart by Equestria?"
But the man was entirely lost. His mind wasn't in a right place. He was only able to carry himself onwards blindly because of the unicorn's support, presenting her with his weak and fragmented thoughts. Verifying anything for her was a lot to ask. Only his head moved, jiggling with a bit of a yes and a bit of a no.
"There's a lot that can be said about dreams," Twilight continued on her own, with the hope that she could bring things somewhere useful to him. "Princess Luna would probably be able to offer better insight and analysis than I could, but... personally, I think you were right before, James." She nodded and easily explained, "You're dreams are just a mishmash of different experiences and memories coming together in your mind. It's just how you feel about them that's the problem. And because they perturb you so much... you're unable to let them go and thus you keep seeing them. I mean, these dreams are on your mind a lot, right? Not even when you're asleep?"
This time he nodded with sorrowful certainty.
"Well," she quietly and stoutly assured him, "you don't have to be afraid. Your memories are safe, James. NOTHING can take them from you, if you don't want that to happen."
Her simple wisdom tried to break into him. It tried to dislodge the gooey fear that was stuck in his mind; to wash him clean and leave him comfortably purified.
But it didn't work. Out of his despair a broken reply rose up, "... What if they aren't safe...?"
"What are you saying?" Twilight asked him with disbelief.
He shuffled about where he sat, holding his head low. "What if I do start caring for all the ponies here... and I start to care less about who I loved before?" He started to rub the back of his hand with his other palm. Out loud the assertion had sounded strange, even to him, but on the inside it still helplessly strangled him; a childlike fear trapping him in a deadly corner. "What if... I get over everyone that's gone... because... maybe... I never really cared about them at all?"
When the agony-laden words hit the pony's ears, at first she couldn't even seem to parse them. She shook her sullen head and, grieving for him, she questioned, "Why would you ever think that?"
The man gave her a hurt look briefly, his eyes glistening with renewing pain. Quickly he scrambled to nervously glance away as he rubbed himself some more.
Twilight's own face dipped down, a little bruised by seeing how she had made him feel, but still more concerned for him than anything. Forcefully, she tried to bring her mind around to understanding him. Even if his worries seemed so disconnected and nearly preposterous to her... maybe she would feel the same way, if all her friends disappeared? Could she make new friends again? Or would she just be looking for a 'new' Rarity; a 'new' Fluttershy; reasons to forget that she had lost old friends? She immediately felt a sour barb jab her, finding the thought of replacement friends insulting and distasteful.
She was also reminded again of her own past panic and retroactively nonsensical fear. What was it she had told Applejack and Rainbow Dash while they were at Canterlot? That Princess Celestia was going to find her to be such a failure of a student that her apprenticeship would be terminated and she would be shipped out to one of the remotest corners of Equestria to be forgotten? That had been real sturdy thinking there, Twilight. But... the infinite darkness that had pounded against her like a raging surf had seemed to be so real and terrifying then. It had taken the heroic support of her friends to drag her out of the terror and back to safety. Regardless of how foolish she felt now for having had believed it, it had existed.
And... even Princess Celestia herself had suffered from such regrets and doubts. Even four hundred years after she had lost Prideheart she had still been thinking about him with anxious uncertainty. It had still taken great strength from her to have told his story. The question of whether she had done what was best for him by letting him go had still haunted her dreams.
Suddenly Twilight found it wasn't so hard to understand where James was coming from after all.
She unguardedly theorized to him, "If I choose to believe that everything of your old life that you loved was... TRULY loved; that they were such an essential and eternal part of you as to be inseparable; then having had them ripped out so horribly would be utterly and irreversibly devastating, and maybe you could never recover. Then... this would be the end..." She turned slightly and presented the other side, "But if I choose to say that you CAN move on from the loss, it calls into question how 'essential' and 'eternal' all those things were to you to begin with. You're forced into questioning how much they really meant to you. No... how much they really MEAN to you."
It was such an awful way of perceiving things; a hopeless perception that twisted love and devotion into wicked things that were either meaningless or poisonous. She doubtfully murmured, "I don't know what good that-... ugh... You can't allow yourself to think like that because you'd only be boxing yourself in to inevitable defeat."
James tried to focus. He intensely pushed on his concentration in order to hold his shaking hands steady in his lap as he thought about what she had said. "I don't know if that's what I think," he eventually told her, but then his voice became draped in fright, "but it is how I really feel... and in that case... isn't anything I do to ignore those feelings just... lying to myself?" He sighed sadly, "Like I've been doing this whole time..."
"No," Twilight strongly answered, "I think that it's more like... what the Dryponies felt. There are very real things that you feel; very real emotions that you're having. And they're fearful and frightening... and hard to turn away from. Like believing in a wicked Sun." She tried to draw out the strength that he had shown before, in the heat of the crisis that had occurred at Heartwood, "But you know that sticking to those feelings, that never moving beyond them, will only lead to places that are so terrible. Just like you told those ponies in the forest... if you want a better outcome then you'll need to carry on and go forward despite those dark feelings. You'll need to be brave. You'll need to walk on an unknown and frightening road with only faithful trust that it leads somewhere better."
The unicorn planted a safe hoof on top of one of his still jittering hands to hold it steady, and she said to him, "I HONESTLY BELIEVE that you will never forget all the people, and places, and memories that you love so much. They'll always be special in your heart, even if you carry on to a new life. You're not going to settle for them having any less value to you. I don't think you're that kind of pony."
She took her hoof back and held it against herself in a gesture both of direction and of vow, and she swore to him, "I'll help you with that in whatever ways I can." A youthful, excited twinkling came back into her eyes and she asked with the animated enthusiam of an eager filly, "Tell me your stories. Let me hear them. You've talked about your family and friends a little bit, but tell me more. Share those memories; don't let those stories live only in you. I really, really do want to hear them. I mean... as interesting as the Industrial Revolution sounds and everything, that doesn't mean I like personal stories any less! They can be just as interesting! Tell me all about the places you've been to, the things you remember, the people you care about... tell me everything, so I can love them all too!"
There was an unbroken silence again. James still drifted in a sea of darkness, feeling battered by lost and lonely waves. But this time her strong words became the first drops of glowing hope and shining love to break through the storm. Warm light, even if only a small amount, trickled in through cracks in the concealing clouds.
After a few moments for himself, he asked her faintly and with a little bit of hesitation, "... Right now, you mean?"
"Oh, it doesn't have to be now," she easily replied. "It doesn't have to be today, or tomorrow. You can share your stories with me any time you feel like it."
It was a relief to him; he wasn't sure he had the strength to try at the moment. Her wonderful support was pushing the chaotic confusion from his head, allowing him to catch and listen to some of his own thoughts, but he still didn't feel all together.
And he still wasn't confident in the road ahead. With a weak smile, he nervously doubted, "I'm don't know if... if that's really going to make everything better."
"It's not supposed to solve everything. There isn't going to be one thing that fixes everything," she warmly tried to teach him. "Hopefully it'll help you along. We should still look to do more for you."
"Like...," the man whispered, thinking back. He limply pointed towards the library door. "Like... go out there and... get involved with stuff... explore..."
"Just like Applejack has been suggesting?" Twilight wondered idly aloud. But then she nodded in immediate agreement. "That sounds very good to me. I've seen that you definitely pick up when you go out and DO things. You have all these troublesome feelings inside you, but when you're out and active you're able to push past them. The best, strongest parts of yourself come surging right back." Carefully supportive, she warned, "Again, just being outside of the library more is not what is going to solve everything. And the idea isn't to bury your negative feelings with positive ones... but to bring out the best of you more often, as another step in the right direction."
James sighed. Defining a place for himself within Ponyville provoked a hidden fear within him; it tugged at all his worries of losing who and what he was in order to risk becoming some... pony. But maybe she was right; maybe Applejack was right too. He had to put a little life in so he could get a little life out. Like a Drypony stepping out of the forest to meet their enemies with open arms...
He tried to bring his mind around to what was even out there in Ponyville. The market, where he would usually shop only for food? The town square, busy with ponies who wandered to and fro, and who he would minimize his contact with as they often seemed so obviously jumpy in his presence? The spa, where he had an experience that he couldn't deny was relaxing and delightful but the thought of it still made him squirm uncomfortably? He didn't want to find new things out about himself; he wanted to retain what he remembered. And besides, he had loaned away the scrunchie he had borrowed, so he couldn't go back to the spa yet, maybe, right?
Seeing him struggle in his thoughts, Twilight stated, "Don't know where to start, huh? Hmm..." She tapped her hoof on her chin before lighting up with a thought. "Did you get to the end of 'Shadow of a Pony's Heart' yet?" she asked.
"No," he responded simply with a mild shake of his head, paying odd attention to the unicorn's strange approach.
"Well, by the way we've talked before I know you've already mostly figured this out so this isn't really going to be a spoiler but... all of the friends Sidlesong makes over the course of her adventure have a part in the conclusion. They all work together to drive out the invading shadows, redeem the Dreadful Dark Stallion, and restore the light to Equestria." And she wasn't off the mark. It was an ending whose broad strokes could have been seen by an attentive reader a mile away. But it was a good ending even if predictable because it held on to something so true; something that saturated the book. Twilight pulled it out for him, "We can do the same thing here, with you. Applejack, Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash, Rarity, Pinkie Pie, me... we can all pitch in and find ways to help you go along."
As he sat there quietly, he followed each of his breaths with a subsequently easier one. Slowly, there was a palpable release of tension from him. It unwound itself and leaked out of him, bit by bit, melting into the air or sinking into the floor as his shoulders eased down and his head picked up. Then, with a voice that was still low, he gave a small smile and chuckled, "I like how you implicitly conflate me with the book's ultimate antagonist."
It made Twilight throw a hoof over her mouth to contain a short laugh. Obviously not what she had intended to say, but at least he had strayed from taking one of her openly interpretable statements poorly this time. She was glad, anyway. His simple remark, light as it was with humor, masked his hard-chosen and implied acceptance of what she had truly said. It reminded her of a little filly who, with eyes still glistening and red from a bout of tears, was just picking up their smile again after scrapping a knee.
"I think each of us can find different things for you get involved with; to keep you busy; to share experiences with you," she continued, improving in humor herself. An impromptu plan formed in her head and she floated, "Maybe instead of tucking away in the library everyday you could spend one day of each week helping one of us with our usual responsibilities, or anything else we want to do, and then you'd still have the seventh day for yourself so you'd have time to do anything you particularly wanted to, or you could even just sit about in quiet reflection." It was a rough but satisfying idea; not overwhelming James all at once and also not leaving him to endure the fight all alone. With an easy smile she said, "We can give that a try and then let's see what happens. Branch you out a little bit and then take it from there."
"... Do you really think that will help?" James asked after a sluggish moment of thought. Any traces of his doubt, or his anger, or his fear, or even his sarcasm had faded; he was only having trouble hoping on his own.
"I think it's worth trying," the sure pony asserted. "And I also think that if we KEEP trying, we'll eventually find a way."
Sitting silently against the wall, the man took her strength in. Outside, the small motions of the sun suddenly cast light through the windows more strongly and the room brightened.
Idle seconds continued to stack on top on one another, unbroken by either the man or the pony. James stayed focused and looked inwards as he worked softly on building himself back up with loaned strength. Twilight was placated, happy, and hopeful. These empty moments didn't strike her with fear anymore; didn't drag her into panicked worriment that she had to somehow fix everything quickly. In fact, thinking of patience...
Suddenly, the unicorn stood up and drew the spent teacups over to herself. "Maybe that's enough for now," she simply stated.
James peeked up, touched with small hints of worry. "What? T-that's it? But, w-what about... I mean... we haven't..."
"This isn't something that is going to be magically cured," she comforted him again. "There's not going to be one thing that happens and then it all goes away. You're not going to wake up one day all better. And because of that... there's no NEED to rush it. We just go step by step, day by day..." She had a pleasant smile; the same as the one she had worn on the morning that they had departed from Heartwood. How things would go, she didn't know, but she knew where, and they'd get there. Eventually.
She turned to the side, getting ready to return the teacups to the kitchen, but said back to him strongly, "Anyway, I really think that... by even just acknowledging your feelings, and making the determination to do something about it... to work together to take care of it... you've already taken the biggest and most important step: choosing to go forward. It's like the Dryponies deciding to give peace a chance; they still have a lot to do to work with the frontiersponies... but little by little they'll get there." Happily, she concluded, "Same with you."
She began to trot away when, just before she would have disappeared into the kitchen, he called after her in a reserved voice, "Hey... you don't still have that... detecto-thing set up, do you?"
The brightest smile burst out of the unicorn and she halted her exit while she excitedly responded in one breath, "Yes! I haven't taken it down yet! And, I mean, I have things to do, but that's always something with me anyway so, really, I don't mind making the time if, I mean... right now, would you like to-"
"Yeah...," he quickly answered, "... yeah... I think I would." With great effort he managed to push his tired body off the floor and stand up straight.
"Okay, sure!" Twilight enthusiastically said. Her legs scrambled about. All of her eagerness was trying to pull her one way while her brain was still trying to direct her flopping limbs to the kitchen to return the teacups.
As James came over, he rubbed his stomach and suggested, "Maybe... maybe we could eat first though?" His chin dropped a little, obviously chiding himself inside for the poor decisions he had made in his funk, and he admitted, "I haven't really eaten all day..."
"Oh, no problem at all!" she said back to him. Something irrepressible had taken hold of her. The final darkened clouds that had come with the rainstorm days ago had cleared up at long last. "I'm not hungry myself but you can go ahead and get something for yourself."
He nodded and then grabbed the two teacups out of the air. "I'll take these back and wash them then," he offered.
"Sure," she gladly accepted, releasing her magic. "I'll go double-check the machine and meet you upstairs whenever you're ready." Obstructions removed, she was finally able to give clear orders to her legs and she presented a joyful smile to the man before she started to trot off, practically skipping along.
"Thanks... again...," James called to her as he pushed open the kitchen door.
"No, thank you!" the gleeful unicorn called back. She was clear, loud, jubilant, and upbeat.
She could hardly contain herself as she bounded up the stairs. She raced through the door at the top and floated airily into the room where the mechanical juggernaut of a device still sat. Its cylindrical metal frame, its broad control panel, all its coiled wires stretching from place to place; they had been parked there in operational shape for days, collecting dust. Maybe if Twilight hadn't gone to Hamestown her slow despair would have seen her dismantle it in defeat days ago. But it had stayed safely home and assembled like a forgotten hope tucked away somewhere hidden.
However, the sprightly mare skipped right by the bulky device. She knew it worked and she didn't need to double-check anything. When Gadget had repaired it she had already compulsively given it a once-over. Even though she was a few minutes away from demonstrating the device for James, the machine and associated lesson were actually the furtherest thing from her mind. She was far more inspired to do something else with the free moment she had.
She planted herself before the side table with the waiting parchment and whisked the ready quill into the air. Immediately the feather was inked and then it danced across the page, guided by Twilight's driven thoughts. Letter by letter it poured out of her, faster than any magical typewriter. The final bits of long-building ideas had fallen into place at last and she knew exactly what she wanted to say. The message had been in front of her this whole time but she finally had exactly what she needed to transcribe it.
Word by word, without hesitation, it came out:
Dear Princess Celestia,
While I'm sure there is plenty I could say about everything that happened at Hamestown, I don't intend to make that the focus of this letter. Besides the fact that we've already discussed the matter somewhat personally, you were there to see it concluded anyhow. Instead, I want to write something about the special charge you assigned me before that. Or more accurately, the special friend I've made. What he's been going through, and its effect on me.
James hasn't been doing well. In his heart, I mean. The full weight of what has happened to him has slowly been descending upon him as he's recovered from the shock of his transition, and it is really and truly beginning to hurt him badly. I feel a little ashamed to admit that to you, as if I myself were somehow responsible by having been given the formal assignment of watching over him. But I understand now how that thought is only me being selfish. It sounds strange, I know, but I can see that I was taking his awful suffering, something of terrible importance, and I was turning it around and making it about me. I approached him and tried to help him, and that wasn't inherently bad or wrong of me to do; I was feeling genuine sympathy and remorse for him. But how much of it was steeped in wanting to make myself feel better? To not be a failure at my assignment? To not be the friend who couldn't help her friends?
But what he's up against is something powerful, and tragic, and dark. Something like I've never confronted before. Something SERIOUS, beyond any significant meaning of that word than I have ever used. And what he needs is somepony to love and care about him unselfishly, and I think we can see I wasn't up to that earlier. When I tried to help and he turned me away, it hurt. It hurt very badly. And because of that... I gave up. I turned away from helping a friend when he needed it the most, because it really hurt me to try.
I can only imagine what making a decision before the angry and crippled Prideheart must have been like, suffering as he was. When somepony that you care about is in deep pain, you FEEL a pain yourself. But it's easy to be frightened by that pain, or scared of increasing it for your friend. It makes it so hard to find the right thing to do, if there is any right thing to do at all. Now I feel like sometimes, especially against such terrible and personal things as this, I won't always know what the right decision is. I won't always be able to figure it out. Sometimes maybe I'll just have to do my best and pray for it to be enough.
Fortunately for me, I have amazing friends. I had given up, but they didn't. They pulled me out of my own dark thoughts. They care about me unselfishly, in the way that I need to care about James. They will always be there to help me make hard, uncertain decisions as long as I have the strength and humility to ask them for help, and they will stick with me through thick and thin. Now, together we're going to work at healing our new friend.
James told me once that "there would always be melancholy days," and he's right to a point. It's an inevitable part of life that sad times will come now and again (even if I haven't seen much of that myself yet.) But I think he also viewed the idea too fatally. He felt that, when those days come, they must be suffered through helplessly. That you must wait until they pass. Maybe that works for some sorrowful things, but I think that sometimes living, or rather SURVIVING, takes more than just enduring the hardest times that life lays upon you. You have to stand up and try to push back against the pain and the darkness. And when you can't stand up, you have to accept that it's okay to be held up by others; even let them guide you through the dark. Maybe, sometimes, even if you're both blind!
Maybe his forlorn feelings came about because that has been his experience with tragedy so far. I know vaguely that he has endured some painful times in the past. Maybe he never consciously recognized how he had gotten by them, but I think I know what it was: all the valued love in his life was a bulwark against dark tides. Now I think, knowingly or not, he's afraid that all that love might be going away, or even already gone. He's not in shape to use it like he could before to protect himself. My friends and I will help show him that the love leftover from his old life doesn't need to vanish, and that there is even more for him here, ready to help.
I believe in my heart that James will be alright. In a small part because I am committing myself to doing everything I can to help ease him through the pain from his loss, and I do it now for his own sake. In a larger part because I know that when I ask all of my wonderful friends to assist me, they'll pitch in without hesitation, and our teamwork allows us to accomplish things together that would be unimaginable or even dangerous alone. But most importantly of all, James wants to see himself move past this too, and I believe in him. He knew that the Dryponies could move past Prideheart's pain and so he must know that he can grow past his own as well. And as long as he can believe in the idea of hope in the absence of known hope, then we can believe in him and support him, and friendship will overcome.
Your faithful student,
Twilight Sparkle
With a whiz and a snap the parchment was rolled up, bound, and sealed. She plopped it back on the table while she plunked the quill in its inkwell. With a contented nod she turned and ambled over to the waiting device, passing through the beams of clear sunlight that streamed in through the windows as she went. Somehow it was quaintly more fitting that they pick this demonstration up again on a day that wasn't quite so rainy.
END PART TWO