//------------------------------//
// Discovery 
// Story: The Secret Life of Butterflies 
// by KamiraTheKing 
//------------------------------//

The ray’s of Celestia’s golden sun overcast the fringes of the Everfree with gold in the early morning. The eerie half-dawn cleared rapidly as the sky gained more color, changing from the dark and foreboding trees into monoliths of bright green rainbows that caught the light and came to glisten with dew. Few birds had awoken, but those who had filled the sky with their sleepy song.

The light from the sunrise had always been Fluttershy’s alarm clock. The sunlight from her east-facing window slowly threw itself over her bedroom rugs, lazily making its way up her bedposts until it fell upon the yellow pegasus’ sleeping form. The sunlight was Fluttershy’s coffee, rousing her with a gentle smile and silent yawn. She fluffed her wings to shake the stiffness and gazed out the window to look over her well-groomed garden, shocked and awed with the serene beauty that gripped it in the early morning.

With another soft yawn, Fluttershy cast off her cocooning blankets and folded them neatly at the end of her bed, simply waiting for her to come back to it. Smiling softly, she turned towards where Angel Bunny’s slept in his own bed.

“Good morning Ang-” Her eyes fell upon an empty bed. “Oh no! Angel? Angel!” Panick gripped her heart as she searched, but just as soon as she prepared to search the world for her missing companion, a stray thought clicked into place.

That’s right, she thought to herself, Sweetie Belle, Scootaloo, and Apple Bloom took him for a weekend sleepover party . . . The self-made reminder eased her own racing heart as she yawned once more before walking out of her cozy bedroom. She made her way slowly to the kitchen to make herself a bowl of wheat cereal.

Let’s see . . . Fluttershy thought as the cereal poured into the bowl. What was I supposed to do today . . . The pegasus knew she was supposed to get something done though she could not, for the life of her, remember what it was. Maybe it was a . . . at . . . attic! Her slow mind worked out the sleep-fueled amnesia. I’m supposed to clean out the attic for the fundraiser on Monday. The fundraiser had coincided quite conveniently with the annual butterfly migration, promising that a great horde would pass through Fluttershy's yard the day of the fundraiser.

Fluttershy thought of the attic above her, dark and dusty and dormant. She could not remember the last time she cleaned out her attic, making her think that she had actually never been cleaned. This both dismayed her and excited her, as she herself had forgotten some of the treasures she stashed up there. Most of the time she simply deposited what it was she wished to store and promptly sealed it once more. There were innumerable items and most of it was probably unusable and broken items she had wished to store since she found this cottage 15 years ago, empty of all but a family of mice living in the walls. (Fluttershy guessed that the ever-expanding Everfree had pushed its last tenants away.)

Cleaning out the attic was a daunting task. It was big, not very well-lit, and there so much dust it would be as if Fluttershy had a cold and spring allergies in the same day. Piles upon piles of old boxes and crates were crowded against the walls, all needing to be looked through and examined for anything of value. It was a task that was sure to take all day. Maybe even longer.

When Fluttershy finished her sweet bowl of cereal, she deftly washed her dishes and placed them back in the cabinets. She was eager to tackle the attic head-on, for the more she had to sell the more money would be made for her to help animals. Without bits, Fluttershy could give nothing but love to the animals that came seeking her help.

Fluttershy made her way down the hallway quickly, looking up at the cut-out square in her wooden ceiling. A smile graced her face as she fluttered her wings and flew towards it, hovering as she gripped the cord and pulled downwards. The excitement gripped the pegasus as the stairs tumbled down until they rested in her hallway. A shower of dust assaulted her, giving her the appearance of wearing a blanket over her back. Fluttershy stumbled back quickly, not expecting the torrent. She fell backwards and landed on her bottom with a soft thump as a feeling came over her.

“Aah . . .” She began, bringing a hoof in front of her face. “AaaaAAh!” She increased in volume. “AAAAAAAH!” It was a shout. “choo.” The anti-climactic end caused the pegasus to rub her muzzle, sniffle, and whisper a soft “oh my”. She knew that the worst was yet to come.

Looking up into the darkness, Fluttershy rubbed her nose once more before ascending the stairs. A foreboding sense invaded her, making her feel as if she needed to run away and close the hatch, as if a monster were waiting to gobble her up in the attic. She consoled herself as she took another step. That’s silly, she thought with a self-deprecating tone, Monsters don’t exist! And even if they did, what would one be doing in my attic?

Fluttershy pulled herself into the room and looked around, absorbing the challenge that lay before her. Light streaming in through the windows revealed dust simply suspended in the air. It also revealed the maze of boxes, chests, crates, buckets, and old pieces of furniture that made up the minefield game of find-what’s-worth-selling. The transversable sea surrounded her, demanding to be sorted.

What have I gotten myself into? Fluttershy whimpered inwardly. The feeling of anxious work that comes from a long day to look forward to began to pervade. Fluttershy could barely move in any direction without bumping into a box.

But so the pegasus began her task, her burden being to sift through the hidden treasures of the castaway stashes, long hidden from mind and view. Many of the items were of no importance and were placed in a pile waiting to be carried away by the trash wagon ponies. Yet as she sorted, she came upon much more in-demand objects. The pieces of furniture, for one, were only in the attic because lack of space in her home demanded them to be moved. Fluttershy unearthed two antique dressers, a vanity with a dusty mirror, an entire dining-room set of table and eight chairs, and at least three bookshelves filled to the brim with tomes, reference books, paperbacks, and leather-back novels. Fluttershy examined the books and found, with delight, that she could probably ask Twilight if she’d just buy all of them for the Golden Oak Library. The proceeds would be enough to provide care for her animals for a month.

Even more objects began to unearth themselves as the minutes drifted into hours. Old Christmas and birthday gifts (she’d have to be careful about who saw what to avoid any hurt feelings) and, as she began to move near the walls of the attic, chests filled with dresses from her fillyhood and teenage years that would be sure to catch the eyes of a filly somewhere. She’d have to ask Rarity for a clothes rack to hang them on though.

Well into the evening, Fluttershy had finally made her way so that she could touch the corners of the room. Piles upon piles of sorted items had been formed all around her, the organized chaos evidence of a job well done. The sun was going down, the trees seen in the windows slowly becoming darker as Celestia’s sun prepared to set. Fluttershy was squinting as she sorted through a box containing many facets of her childhood. Hairbows, an old dress, and quite a few nostalgic fillyhood follies and trinkets made themselves to be sorted into piles.

“Sunny Skies!” Fluttershy smiled in joy at the old doll held in her hooves. The once-golden fabric had a grey sheen of dust to it, the kind that could not be avoided as new items aged to old ones. Fluttershy hugged her dollie close to her chest, thinking of the perfect place to place it within her home. She had no intentions of selling something so close to her.

Fluttershy dove back into the box, excited about what she would pull from it next. Her hoof gripped a hard-bound book as thick as a dictionary. Curious, she pried it up.

"My Diary.” She whispered curiously as she brushed the dust off of the cover. The meek pegasus’s mind rushed to remember it, and was surprised at how little she could. She remembered Sunny Skies and the dollhouse she’d made out of cardboard for her with much clarity, but the diary . . . Fluttershy gazed curiously at it, examining childhood memories. The diary had always been there, it seemed. It overshadowed memories, always sitting on a shelf or pushed under her bed. She remembered carrying it with her sometimes, but never writing in it. Fluttershy was unsure why the diary had been kept. When she’d moved to Ponyville, if something wasn’t really special to her, she’d left it in Cloudesdale. She couldn’t remember the diary being of any significance. However, Fluttershy did feel . . . somehow betrayed by the book’s presence, like she’d meant to be rid of it long ago.

Whether curiosity or an unvoiced order told her to open the diary, Fluttershy didn’t know. The diary simply . . . called her. Demanded for its writer to read, and to know. Fluttershy placed the book onto her back and took a look around the attic.

“I’ve done a lot of work today. I think I’m finished for now.” She announced to nopony in particular as she turned and exited the room, not bothering to push the hatch back closed if she was going to reattempt to finish tomorrow. She deserved a break.

Making her way into the kitchen once more, Fluttershy made herself a delicious supper of carrot stew. All while she ate, the diary’s audacious title stared her down. “My Diary.” She whispered, testing the words to see if they would trigger something, a memory of sorts. Nothing came.

With a soft sigh, Fluttershy left the dishes where they lay and gripped the diary in one hoof as she flew to her bedroom. She landed with a ‘Poomf’ and the blankets unwraveled and covered her up to her neck. The diary landed on her pillow, perfectly square with the pegasus. Luna’s moon was now high in the night sky, accompanied by a tapestry of expertly arranged stars. There was not enough light to read by, so Fluttershy reached over impatiently and clicked her lamp on, bathing the room in a soft and warm yellow glow.

The anticipation was suffocating as the yellow pegasus took a long, deep breath to calm her racing heart. She reached out a hoof and pushed the cover open to the first page. When the words came into focus, she began to read.