//------------------------------// // Chapter 8 // Story: Eventide Falls // by errant //------------------------------// The comfortable warmth of the sun shone down on Twilight Sparkle, lounging on the verdant grass along a clear, cold stream that ran near Fluttershy’s cottage. Her gaze focused on nothing in particular as an observer might have mistaken her lack of movement for sleep. The unicorn was anything but lazing, however; behind closed eyelids her mind focused with a nearly implacable will bearing down on the first things she had learned as a filly under Princess Celestia’s tutelage. Outer tranquility belied an inner maelstrom as she fought to hold at bay mounting frustration and despair at her inability to make even the simplest spells or magical exercises work. Alright, I’ve found my center and grounded. I can sense the power flowing in and around me. I can reach out and take that power. Now all I need to do is shape it . . . A lavender shimmer faintly rose from her form, hanging in the air like a haze on a sultry day. Barely perceptible at first, it gradually solidified and became an unmistakable aura. Ok, now gently release the spell so it takes effect . . . A sudden shimmer cascaded through the aura, ripples distorting its translucence as its form wavered. Sweat beaded Twilight’s forehead as she exerted her mind to its limit to hold the spell intact, but with a sudden sound like a distant discordant bell the aura shattered into a thousand ethereal shards that faded away into nothingness before they struck the ground. A deep growl emanated from the still supine unicorn, a hateful scowl distorting her face as her hoof pummeled the ground beside her in a futile bid to vent her annoyance on something. Breathing heavily, Twilight forced her mind to clear itself of her emotions. Again. “It was mighty nice of ya to volunteer to help me out, Twi,” a basket-laden Applejack grunted to her companion, who was presently bearing her own significantly lighter load of fruit upon her back. “Don’t mention it, Applejack. I didn’t have anything to do today and you needed help.” How long has it been since I even opened a book on magic? What would be the point, anyway? “Well, that may be, but I’m still grateful, sugarcube.” Applejack’s back was turned, so she missed the momentary flicker of black anger that crossed Twilight’s face. Yeah, I’m sure. Grateful for a useless unicorn who can’t do a tenth of your workload. Twilight forced the thought aside, channeling the surge of anger into trying for the millionth time to levitate a single apple. “Are you sure you want me to help you around the shop, Rarity? I’m hopeless at sewing and I’m not much of a businesspony,” an uncertain Twilight asked her glamorous friend. Rarity, as always, made a display of merely turning her head from her present occupation at the sewing table to gaze at Twilight. Her mane moved with a will of its own, defying gravity to remain in just the perfect position, and Twilight would swear that her coat reflected light with the sole intention of highlighting her beauty and elegance. “Darling, I don’t need that much help with the dressmaking. I really need someone to deal with the customers while I finish this order. If Sweetie Belle can manage it with only one disaster per day I have utmost confidence in you to do a stellar job.” Rarity’s attention returned to her seams, so she missed the rapidly hidden flash of sadness that briefly filled the lavender unicorn’s eyes. So I can do a job a little filly could be trusted to perform . . . “But, are you sure you really want me to be the first thing your customers see? It’s only been a few weeks and my coat hasn’t properly grown back yet. There are still discolored spots and some of my scars are still visible. I’m not exactly the spitting image of elegance and grace.” Rarity gasped, outrage clear in her voice. “Twilight Sparkle! I of all ponies know that beauty isn’t defined by simple appearance.” She huffed indignantly, and then continued, “Besides, if one of my customers was so dreadfully shallow as to be offended by one of my best friends, I wouldn’t want their business anyway.” The seamstress turned back to her work with a finality that hinted she was done with the topic. Sighing, Twilight made her way to the front counter to wait for a customer to make her feel useful. She cast her gaze around for something small and unimportant to practice telekinesis on. She settled on a single piece of paper. With a backward glance to make sure Rarity was preoccupied, she focused her own attention on an act of magic so insignificant a foal could have managed it but that still eluded her. Dark had long since fallen, lulling the animal inhabitants in and around Fluttershy’s cottage into their own slumber but sleep eluded a certain unicorn. Twilight’s repose on her borrowed bed was anything but restful; her open eyes glinted slightly in the gentle moonlight. Her mind was as restless as all the rest of her. She kept guiltily returning to the fact that she hadn’t written a single letter or report to Celestia in weeks, I haven’t even seen the Princess since just after they discharged me from the hospital. I haven’t seen her since she brought my parents to see me. She choked back the unbidden memory of her parent’s fawning over her, making meaning platitudes about losing her magic not being the end of the world. No, she thought bitterly. It’s not the end of the world. Just the end of my world. Shoving that thought aside, she tried to seek refuge in memories of a thousand happy days and nights spent in study, absorbed in some book or experiment. Wasted, all of it. What good is being an expert on magic if I can’t even do magic at all? Exasperated by her own inability to find comfort in those recollections she tried another approach. She filled her mind with other memories, of a regal alicorn with a caring smile and a kind word ever at hoof. She hasn’t even laid eyes on you in weeks and you know why. She’s probably already looking for another student. You’re no good to yourself or anypony else anymore so why would she keep you around? Moaning in annoyance, Twilight rolled over on her side, squeezing shut her eyes against the thought of another pony taking her place. The thought that she could be replaced hurt more than almost anything else. What good am I anymore? Twilight rather enjoyed the silence that had settled into Fluttershy’s cottage. With the resident caretaker expecting to be out all day tending to her animal charges Twilight had resigned herself to another solitary day of moping; it seemed like all she could do lately was dwell on the same vicious cycle of thoughts. With her magic gone her sense of worth and purpose had plummeted like a stricken pegasi; despite the best efforts of her friends to make her feel wanted and useful she couldn’t help but feel thoroughly valueless to everypony. Come on, you foal. Letting yourself drown in self-pity isn’t going to fix anything. She made a valiant effort to marshal herself to a more productive state of mind, forcing a smile to stretch across her muzzle in a bid to invoke the power of positive thinking. The smile faltered almost immediately, as she recalled all too clearly that she still had nothing to do with her time. The very same time she had once been zealous in managing and organizing around the constant round of duties and chores she undertook to help anypony who asked for her aid. But now she had nothing to do. She had no magic texts to peruse, no reports to the Princess to write, no one to help with some problem or task. She had no library to supervise. With Spike still in the hospital she didn’t even have a baby dragon to take care of. I don’t even have – Twilight’s increasingly morose thoughts were interrupted by an inappropriately loud series of knocks at the door, followed almost immediately by a familiar boisterous voice calling out, “Hello! Anypony home?” Instinctively trying to reach out with her magic to open the door, Twilight heaved a sigh when she realized what she was doing. Slipping off the couch she had been reclining on the unicorn made her way to the entryway, swinging it open to reveal, as expected, a polychromatic pegasus with a small hardback book partially tucked under one wing. Despite herself, Twilight felt a surge of honest amusement to see her athletic friend both still hopelessly addicted to reading and ashamed to reveal that fact lest her reputation be softened. “Rainbow! What are you doing here? Don’t you have weather duty or the Wonderbolts to be training for?” “Nah. I cleared the sky in twelve seconds flat today. And I’ve been training a lot so I figured I’d give it a rest.” “Twelve seconds flat? Don’t tell me you’re starting to slow down in your old age?” Beginning to bristle at the rebuttal, Rainbow settled down when she saw the mirth in her friend’s countenance and decided to offer one of her own. “I was just trying to be humble. Gotta give other ponies a chance, ya know.” Chuckling, Twilight drew back from the door to gesture Rainbow inside the cottage. Smirking, she indicated the partly concealed book with a forehoof. “Let me guess; the newest Daring Do came out today, didn’t it?” “It sure did! And it's gonna be so awesome!” the pegasus replied with more than a hint of a fangirlish squee, before she remembered how cool she was. She self-consciously cleared her throat and pitched her voice a little deeper before replying, “Not that I’ve been waiting for it or anything. I happened to see it on sale in Ponyville and decided to pick it up.” Still with a knowing smile on her face, Twilight settled back onto her couch. Without hesitation Rainbow Dash threw herself onto the nearest available chair, deftly twisting around so her feet and head protruded over opposite armrests. “I was kinda hoping you’d let me hang out here today and read. I mean, I know you like reading and I figured you wouldn’t mind a little company. Especially company as cool as me,” said Rainbow Dash. “Of course I don’t mind. I’m always grateful for a chance to spend time with my friends. And its not often I get to simultaneously indulge my passion for reading and have good company too.” Rainbow Dash merely nodded assent, already turning pages in her new prize. In response, Twilight reached beside the couch and pulled out her current reading material. She flushed a little guiltily at the notion of her, the studious, intellectual, reasonable pony she was, reading an old Doctor Whooves novel based on one of the laughably outdated but still fun episodes from long before she was even born. Still, she had been a fan of the Doctor since she was a filly and had been surprised and pleased to learn that Fluttershy shared her passion and had a nearly complete collection of episodes and novels. It had given her something to keep her mind occupied. Cracking the cover gently, she buried her eyes in the novelized form of one of her favorite episodes, The Keys of Mareinus. As much as she expected to be drawn into the world of the Doctor and his companions, Twilight was increasingly annoyed to find that she couldn’t focus on her story at all. Her attention kept drifting off the reclining form of Rainbow Dash; every time the pegasus turned a page or shifted slightly in her seat her own attention was promptly diverted. After nearly the dozenth time Twilight realized her eyes had once again settled on her friend she forcefully closed her eyelids, intending to sort out this nonsense inside her own mind. As she went through the basic magical exercises of controlling her thoughts and emptying her mind, she was at first confused then mountingly irritated to discover her subconscious seemed to have developed a fixation with a certain speedy, rainbow-hued pony. She delved deeper into her own inner thoughts, amidst a whirling maelstrom of mental images that defined her subconscious processes. As expected there were scenes related to her trauma and recovery, as well as a great number of instances of her friends, either singly or in groups. But Rainbow Dash appeared more frequently than any of them. What the hay is wrong with me? Dash is my friend; I would expect to see her in my thoughts, but this is ridiculous! Curiosity and indignation now fully aroused, Twilight began actively hunting through her thoughts and mental processes for any hint as to her sudden interest in her friend. Delving deeper into the strata of her psyche, Twilight examined half-forgotten memories of recent days. It slowly dawned on her just how much Rainbow Dash had occupied her thoughts of late. Not in large increments; no, she would have noticed that much sooner. Instead the blue pegasus had crept into her thoughts slowly, in small but undeniable increments. Every time she had felt alone, she had recalled how the Element of Loyalty always stuck by her friends through thick and thin. Every time she felt discouraged by the impossible task of learning to live without magic she remembered Rainbow’s determination and resolve, practicing for the Wonderbolts for hours each day. As recently as last night, when she had awoken in the grip of a nightmare, she had drawn the image of Dash over her like a blanket, at the same wondering idly what it would feel like to draw the real Dash over top of her . . . Twilight’s violet eyes snapped open, a red tint rushing to her cheeks in a tangible sign of her acute embarrassment. Why would I think something like that? I’ve known Rainbow Dash for a long time. Surely if I had . . . feelings . . . for her I would have noticed before now. I mean, you don’t just realize one day that you’ve got a crush on one of your best friends, do you? Nothing immediately offered an answer to her silent query, so she continued to turn her own thoughts and realizations over and over in her mind. Instead of finding clarity, she only grew more confused by the minute. Having the object of her uncomfortableness so near wasn’t helping anything. Dismissing her annoyance, she returned to the most essential question at hoof. Surely I would have noticed by now if I really felt like this for somepony? I mean, that’s not the sort of thing that you miss. But was it really? It had taken the return of an ancient evil threat to all Equestria to draw her out of her shell enough to make some friends in the first place. And anyways, she had always been so focused either on her studies or helping somepony or dealing with some new friendship crisis. She had hardly left time in her busy schedule for more-than-friendship. She just hadn’t considered it. But I guess my subconscious has been thinking about it. And now that I’ve got literal tons of free time on my hooves I finally noticed it. Oh Celestia, what am I going to do? Rising levels of confusion and fear clawed at her throat, shortening her breath. It settled into her stomach with iron finality. Twilight swallowed nervously, glancing aside at the unperturbed Rainbow Dash. Making a sudden decision, she heaved to her feet. This at least broke the enthralled pegasus’ focus, leading her to glance up quizzically and ask, “What’s up?” “Nothing. I’m just going to the kitchen for a minute,” Twilight replied with what she hoped was well-hidden terseness. “Oh. Cool,” Dash replied as the book’s spell once again captured her. Twilight plodded into the kitchen, where she proceeded to rest her head between her hooves as she leaned bodily against the countertop. She throttled back a moan; she didn’t dare vocalize her discomfort with Rainbow so nearby. * * * Something was wrong. Rainbow Dash glanced towards the silent kitchen yet another time. Twilight had been in there longer than anypony could possibly need to be, especially in the middle of the day. That, and there was a conspicuous lack of noise that would indicate the preparation of any kind of snack or beverage. Rolling her eyes in annoyance, she laid her copy of Daring Do’s newest escapade aside before hoisting herself out of her reclining position. Carelessly flaring her wings to stretch stiffened muscles, Dash strode confidently towards the kitchen. That confidence left her, however, as she entered the sunlit room. It would make for a cheery tableau, if it weren’t for the lavender unicorn with her head in her hooves in an obvious position of misery. Judging by the lack of reaction, Twilight must not have heard her. Rainbow drew near and laid a tentative hoof on her friend’s shoulder. She wasn’t sure what to expect, but she hadn’t been prepared for Twilight to flinch as if she had been struck and draw violently away from her innocuous touch, turning haunted eyes up to her. As brash and insensitive a pony as Rainbow was, even she could see that something was badly troubling the unicorn who had become one of her best friends. She put on her best expression of caring and asked, as gently as she could, “What’s wrong, Twilight? You can tell me.” When Twilight remained oddly silent, Rainbow Dash wracked her brains for something suitable to say. Not surprisingly, she hit upon something Twilight herself had once told her. “Twilight Sparkle, you don’t have to hide your feelings from me.” * * * Twilight had lost track of just how long she had been in Fluttershy’s kitchen. It didn’t really matter, seeing as how she hadn’t found any resolution to her conflicted feelings. This is preposterous. It doesn’t make any sense. Pinke Pie is more logical than this! . . . What am I gonna do? I can’t just tell Dash. Who knows what that could do to our friendship? But I can’t hide my feelings either. If nothing else, Applejack will see that I’m hiding something and she won’t let it rest till she finds out what it is. A gentle hoof touched her shoulder. Panic leapt through her veins like lightening as she twisted around, dislodging the unexpected contact. She found herself staring into Rainbow Dash’s rose-colored eyes. The pegasus’ face softened into one more caring than Twilight would have though possible. She tried to say something innocent, but the thudding of her heart seemed to drown out any words her mind could assemble. “What’s wrong, Twilight? You can tell me.” Oh, if only I could be sure of that. “Twilight Sparkle, you don’t have to hide your feelings from me.” I . . . Rainbow Dash, I . . . “I think I like you, Rainbow Dash.” WHY DID I SAY THAT? Oh no, what have I done? “Well, of course you like me. I’m too cool to not like, aren’t I?” Twilight only buried her face in her hooves again, shielding her eyes from the chromatic pony who had been the object of her Freudian slip. She was too ashamed to meet Dash’s gaze, too afraid of what she might see there. Twilight’s behavior and what she had actually said finally conjoined somewhere in Rainbow’s brain, sparking a thought out of her usually insensitive grey matter. Awkwardly, Rainbow Dash tried to stop herself from taking an involuntary step back. “H-hey, Twilight, by ‘like me’ you didn’t mean, ya know, that you, um, ‘like me’ like me, right?” she asked with a forced grin on her face, desperately trying to make light of an uncomfortable situation. When the purple unicorn didn’t respond, Dash carefully nudged her. That got her to look up, and the threatening tears around her lavender eyes and warring hope and fear written in them told the pegasus all she needed to know. Overwhelmed by feelings she couldn’t begin to describe, Rainbow Dash backed away from her friend. Too many warring thoughts circled in her head. All she could think of was the clean simplicity of the sky, the elegant aesthetics of the clouds under her wings. Simple things, things she understood. Things that didn’t startle her or confront her with an impossible rush of emotions she couldn’t hope to sort out. “I . . . I gotta go.” “No, Rainbow Dash, wait!” Rainbow shuddered to hear the desperation in Twilight’s voice, calling her back. She didn’t stop, though. She risked a final backwards glance, to the now openly weeping unicorn, forelegs outstretched, imploring her to wait, to understand. “Please, Rainbow, I didn’t mean it! Don’t run away!” She didn’t heed. Flinging open the door to the little cottage, she flared her wings and was gone in a surge of color. Even as the world faded into an indistinguishable blur below her, she couldn’t get the image of a sobbing, pleading Twilight out of her mind. She kept flying, and hated herself for doing it.