//------------------------------// // Saudades // Story: Lovely Days // by WritingSpirit //------------------------------// . . . "Flim, have you wondered what smells like nostalgia?" "Oh, I can't quite get the answer, Flam. What does smell like nostalgia?" "Well, sunshines to all our listeners out there! For those who've just joined our jolly show, we've previously asked that question to all of Equestria: what smells like nostalgia? What scent sends you back through the weaves of time and leaves you hanging on that one unforgettable thread? Flam and I have gathered the most interesting answers during the break and I dare say, we have a lot of intriguing responses! Ain't that right, Flam!" "You bet, Flim! First comes from a Miss Shoeshine. Her nostalgic smell of choice was the aroma of molten cottage cheese, for it reminds her of her family reunions every Hearth's Warming, where her grandmother would bring out the signature dish: cheese baked pasta with sunflower seeds!" "Now, that sounds absolutely riveting, Flam!" "Riveting indeed, Flim! Be sure to introduce us to your grandma, Miss Shoeshine!" "Here's one from Missus Lemon Hearts! Her scent of choice was the smell of wet paint, because it had always reminded her of her parents painting the walls of her treehouse when she was young!" "Ah, the lost art of the treehouse. Terribly miss it, I should add." "I miss it terribly as well, Flam. Our final entry is from a Mister Toe-Tapper. His favorite smell... what do you know! The scent of old books from the local library! It reminds him of the many adventures he had in the books he read! Fascinating!" "And that's the first three answers from many more. Now, this section wouldn't be possible without the help of Sapphire Shores. Our musical sensation had just celebrated the launch of Rivage, the latest fragrance Sapphire herself concocted from a careful mix of sea spray, vanilla and summerwind grass to make it smell like the beach she had always adored when she was just a small filly!" "Talk about nostalgia in a bottle, eh Flam?" "You've said it, Flim!" "Do tune in to hear the next set of answers that we'll be reading right after these lovely melodies! Who knows? You might be the next of the lucky few who have been chosen by yours truly! Once again, this is the Flim Flam Rodeo Breakfast Show on Equestria National Radio! Sunshines, Equestria, and have a lovely day!" . . . . . . . . . . . It is another lovely day. Lyra Heartstrings groaned out of her sleep, like every other lovely day. Lyra Heartstrings searched for the ground off her bed, like every other lovely day. Lyra Heartstrings stretched her hooves, pleasure brimming from her nerves and joints as she strutted into the shower, like every other lovely day. With a precise turn of the brass knobs, Lyra Heartstrings felt the warm water matting her mane, trailing down its fine hairs and dripping onto the tiled floor she was staring down, the currents swiveling and swirling down into the draining hole. She let out a yawn, small enough to spare her from braying like a mule, long enough to feel the fizzle of contentment at the back of her throat. Once she was done, she stepped out, yanking the towel out of its rest and hummed a tune from a selection from her mental compilation of earworms, rubbing herself free of the dampness that clung to her. Just like every other lovely day. And, like every other lovely day, Lyra Heartstrings found herself staring at the mirror, anticipating that charming, proud grin to reward her for her hard work and fire up her day. What she saw was less of a smile. At first glance, she didn't recognize the mare in the mirror. She wanted to rush out and inquire FERRA about the intruder in her bedroom. She blinked a few times, paused, then blinked several times more. All those attempts were in vain, as that same mare still stood there, questioning her with those same eyes; those same glowering brows; those same stiff, downward lips. She visioned them opening, then closing, then opening again, trembling with a cold murmur that froze her heart and cracked her bones. "Sunshines..." It was on this lovely day, unlike all the other lovely days, that Lyra Heartstrings saw, in a mirror she had trusted for so long, less of a smile and more of a scowl. "Sunshines, Miss Heartstrings." Snapping out from her daze, Lyra whirled towards the doorway. Her FERRA was hovering there, the minuscule apertures inconspicuously closing in around its single eye. In its left arm, he held a mug of chamomile tea, the aroma serving to entice the mare out from her nest. An uneasy moment of silence settled in between them, until Lyra finally trotted away from the mirror, though not before glancing back at her reflection. "M word, FERRA," she offhandedly spoke, still looking in the mirror. "Ah, yes. Apologies for the blunder I've made there." "It's okay," Lyra mumbled, finally tearing her gaze back to her FERRA, then to her tea. "You got my breakfast ready?" "As per last night's request, Lyra. Belgian waffles and a side of tulip petals." "Thanks, FERRA. Lead the way." Her monotonous drawl must have gave FERRA quite a surprise, Lyra figured, though the robot made no effort of mentioning it. For a moment, Lyra thought to herself, as she wandered into her dining room, whether she was wearing her goggles of fatigue again, though it was interrupted by the encroaching smell of breakfast. Praise the sun for breakfast! Her stomach was gnawing at itself in there, turning itself inside out! "The storm is growing!" she would've cried on any other day. "A storm! Cooked up by the tumultuous waves of gastric juices and raging to be filled!" Perhaps that was why she was bothered by everything around her, she surmised. After all, there's nothing more frightening than a mare with an empty stomach. Lyra Heartstrings needed no encouragement to jump into her wooden seat and chow down her food. Sure, her FERRA would start a conversation about table manners, but she can handle that with a full stomach in tow. Crumbs flew off the sides, sprinkling across the oak table and onto the carpeted floor, leaving her robot to sweep it all up with a dustpan. By the time she was done, Lyra slunk into her chair, a languid, low sigh drifting out of her lips as she closed her eyes. The emptiness was still there. The pit in her stomach. Immediately, the mare stumbled back up. The empty feeling had not left her stomach. Rather, it felt like it intensified; what was a thunderstorm had turned into a typhoon, insistently clawing the walls of her guts. Holding her breath, she felt another smaller storm growing up beneath her left chestplate and another in her head, wreaking havoc to mind and soul. She groaned from the assault, the storm system pestering her to no end, so much that she dragged he hooves to her three seater sofa and tossed herself back first onto it, shoving her face with a snugly pillow. "Lyra?" FERRA's voice of concern called for her. "Are you alright?" "Yeah bud, I'm uh... fine," she gave her muffled lie. "You don't look so alright to me. How are you feeling?" Like a donkey's turd, she surprisingly found herself wanting to rasp. Instead, she opted for the polite answer. "Body's aching a lot," she mumbled. "It doesn't feel like a fever, though. At least, I don't think it does." "Perhaps I may be of assistance?" FERRA offered. "If you insist." With a huff, Lyra pushed the pillow off her face and sat right up, just in time to see her FERRA's red eye flourishing into sky blue. Suddenly, a horizontal beam of light shot out from its scope and onto her body, a whizzing sound filling the room as said beam scrolled along Lyra from head to hoof. Soon after, the beam converged back into its eye, the robot hovering still for a minute as it picked apart the information it gathered. "Curious," it spoke after a while. "I seem to find nothing wrong with you, Lyra." "Huh?" "You're perfectly fine," FERRA rephrased. "According to the scans, there are no traces of any disease or infection whatsoever in your body. All evidence suggests that you are a perfectly healthy mare." "That's weird..." Lyra mumbled, the rumbling feelings still present. "I don't know about that, FERRA. You sure?" "Yes, Lyra." "Really sure?" "Quite so." "Really, really sure?" "Lyra, I've been monitoring your health ever since the day you purchased me, so yes, I am absolutely sure." Lyra giggled at FERRA's annoyed tone — the first of the day — before the gray clouds gathered over her head again. She didn't know what it was, the pit forming at the bottom of her gut, or the deep ache blossoming in her chest, or the incessant drumming she was hearing in her head. In the end, her robot can only do so much as to scan her; she'd have to get her prescriptions from somepony, didn't she? "FERRA, record a voice message for Vinyl," she requested. No more than a second later, her robot emitted a small ding. "Sunshines, V. Don't think I'll be stepping in today. I think I'm coming down with something. Don't worry about me just yet, it's nothing too serious— at least, nothing a few pills couldn't handle probably. I'll be stopping by at the nearest Rosy Maple's if you need me. Say Sunshines to the rest for me, Vinyl." Another ding from FERRA, whirring and chirruping, before it spoke: "Message sent." "Thanks, FERRA," Lyra replied, heading towards her front door. "Take care of the house for me while I'm gone. Shouldn't take about an hour." "As always, Lyra." "Knew I can count on you, bud." With destination in mind, Lyra stepped out into the bustling streets, putting up a smile for the world to see. She greeted the usual crowd with her warm welcomes, graciously accepting some of their offers and sharing delightful stories, though the feeling of emptiness remained. Lyra caught herself biting her lip after every futile conversation; perhaps it was something serious after all? "Now, hold on Lyra," she chastised herself. "Think about nice things. Yes! Nice things..." With that in mind, Lyra Heartstrings trotted down the block, heading to the one place that might finally shed light on her ordeal. "Rosy Maple's." . . . . . . . . . . . . . The grandiose, intricate logo of Rosy Maple's Healthcare Services, lit up in a fluttering, blinking pink, was a sign of hope for many when the first of its kind was erected in the western districts of Canterlot. Initially a small project to make healthcare accessible to all parts of Equestria instead of having every sick pony to trot to the hospital, the business blossomed when the princess funded it to where it stands today: an iconic clinical franchise, happy to serve and provide help to those in need, be it a bottle of medicine or just an ear to their personal problems. Just a few avenues away from her home at a corner, Lyra Heartstrings arrived in obligation as a recipient of the latter, plagued by her strange discomfort in her journey here. It wasn't as bad as it appeared to be in the morning, though it might be her feeling numb from the sensation already. Perhaps, she feared, it was the calm before the storm; Vinyl told her enough scary stories to fuel her morbid speculation. Quickly, she shook herself free of that unnerving thought: the last thing she needed on her mind was the image of a tapeworm tunneling through her intestines. Instead, she gazed upon the rosy beacon of hope with the knowledge that they could provide her with what she wanted. Stepping through the golden revolving doors, Lyra was surprised to see the center almost empty, save for a few chattering patients on the wooden waiting benches and some of the staff cantering in and out of the hallways. Seems most of the district must be truly having a lovely day, she surmised enviously, though she dare not complain. After all, she wanted a quick visit, not a spot at the back of a queue. Once again, the iconic logo of Rosy Maple's exhibited itself in a form of a colossal, wooden bas relief above the receptionist's counter, with a few screens around it that would announce a sequence of numbers on a busier day. All the gilded benches sat on a circle, leveled platform, away from the checker-tiled marble floor. Behind the counter was Nurse Snowheart, busy filling in some notes and looking through a few records until Lyra strutted up to her, to which she gave a tender smile. "Sunshines, love," the receptionist greeted warmly. "Here for a checkup, Miss Heartstrings?" "Kinda, Nurse Snowheart," Lyra sheepishly answered, gaze trailing off. "I'm... not really sure if this is the right place for it, actually." "Well, what ails you and your lovely day?" "I don't know what you call it... a feeling? Like something's... something's draining you from inside, but you know it's not a... um... well, it's not a thing... I hope." Nurse Snowheart stared at her blankly, prompting her to continue: "Okay, it's like I'm missing something, got it? Like, there's a hole in my stomach and my heart just feels kinda heavy. My head's hurting as well, if that helps..." "Empty sensation... aching heart... ah!" "So?" Lyra inquired, the other mare looking as if she struck gold. "What is it?" "I myself am not that educated on the subject, I'm afraid, but I know just the pony who can help." With that said, the receptionist pressed a hoof on the intercom, the speakers around crackling as she spoke: "Nurse Redheart, please head to the lobby immediately. We have one with the saudades here." "Sau-what?" "Don't worry, Miss Redheart would explain everything to you." Leave it to Nurse Redheart to explain everything, Lyra found herself thinking. She could vaguely recall how she and that nurse first met— it was either a near-death experience of getting crushed by a fallen rack of machinery at Vinyl's, which amounted to a few fractured ribs and a broken hoof, or a spoiled something in a hayburger from one of the diners, which gave her enough belching fits for the daily clogging of her toilet. Whatever horrid experience she went through first, she met Nurse Redheart, had a little chat and after stumbling upon each other at Donut Joe's later, they kept in touch. "Mi'ff Harf'rings!!" a garbled cry came from the left hallway. Sure enough, in her hurried trotting, came Nurse Redheart, her nursing cap lopsided and pink mane ruffled with a jumbled mess of papers threatening to fly off the clipboard in her mouth. Lyra held back her giggles, instead stepping forward to help the hurried nurse with her clipboard, picking up a few strays that managed to escape. When they were done, the nurse placed her now orderly clipboard on the counter, giving her a fresh smile. "Really, thank you for your help, Lyra. They can be quite a handful to sort through, let me tell you." "Oh, just helping out a friend, that's all," Lyra put up her modest facade, even though the roses in her cheeks were blooming. "So, what brings you here today, Lyra?" Nurse Redheart inquired. "Oh, and Snowheart, where's that mare with the saudade?" "Two birds with one stone," the receptionist smirked, slyly drawing her gaze to the sheepish Lyra. "Miss Heartstrings here is the one you're looking for." "Lyra Heartstrings?" the nurse gawked, her wide-eyed stare snapping to the sheepish unicorn. "Her? The one with the saudades?" "Yep, I'm the one with the um... the... what did you call it? Sa... Sew..." "Saudades, Lyra," Nurse Redheart corrected her, giggling alongside her colleague. "Alright, follow me." Striding across the checkered tiles, Lyra followed the nurse down the hallway, passing by door after door. She had forgotten how vertigo-inducing the ceilings were, the row of crystal lamps at the very top illuminating it with its set of glares. For a franchise of clinics, the buildings of Rosy Maple's were fairly large. The same could also be said for their staff— one could almost never meet a doctor or nurse that isn't working in Rosy Maple's. Nurse Redheart, for example, said she once worked in a privately owned hospital until the owner of Rosy Maple's bought it over. It was a sudden change, as the nurse had phrased it, but she enjoyed her work more than ever after that. "I must admit, Lyra, I didn't expect that you'd be the one catching the saudades," Nurse Redheart said sincerely. "Not to say that it's unheard of for anypony to catch it, really." "So it's not some... terminal illness or anything?" "Oh, I'm fairly certain it's not." "Nothing to do with parasites?" "Heavens, no!" Nurse Redheart shuddered, her cheeks a ghastly green. "I'd rather face a dragon instead of such horrors, I'll have you know. Really, Lyra, the astonishing things that Vinyl puts in your head sometimes..." "Just making sure, sorry," Lyra meekly replied, a little relieved. "So, you're saying this happens a lot?" "More often than you think, yes. It is quite a common affliction." "But if it's so common, why didn't I catch it?" "Oh, the saudade is not a legitimate illness as you had believed, Lyra. Far from it, actually." That only left Lyra a little more baffled than ever. Before she could inquire further, Nurse Redheart suddenly stopped in her tracks and opened the door on their left with one hoof gesturing the unicorn in, the tender yet insistent smile egging her to do so. Stepping in, she found herself in a fairly pleasant hospital room, pristine with the colors of a summer's day painted in strips on the walls. The blanched ceiling and wooden floor added to the serenity, as did the white satin sheets of the comfortable bed and the flowery voile curtains that gave a glimpse of the streets outside, topped with a single, lean orchid in a narrow vase. "Come, have a seat," Nurse Redheart said, cocking her head onto the bed. "You are my patient, after all. I have to see to it that you get comfy." Chuckling with the nurse, Lyra helped herself up, ruffling the sheets a little as she cozied up to the warm sheets, even tucking the pillow underneath her front hooves. Already familiar with the repertoire, she waited patiently for Nurse Redheart to fill in a few forms, drawing her gaze to the scenery outside. It was already noon, the brilliance of the sun at a glorious high over the many districts of Canterlot. Half a day had drifted over her head and she could only watch on glumly as ponies cantered around and exchanging joyous greetings with each other. She wondered about the rest: Vinyl and the others must've gotten her message by now. Despite telling her not to worry so much, she knew behind Vinyl's tomboyish, tough exterior held a luxury penthouse's worth of concern to match. She could recall how much her friend panicked in the accident with the rack back then; she had never heard a mare cry so loud in her entire life! Lyra found herself chuckling lightly, feeling a little guilty for doing so. "Alright! Now that we've got these papers out of the way," Nurse Redheart announced. "Let's start with the basics. I'm sure you had that empty pit in your stomach, didn't you?" "Yeah, just this morning," Lyra answered. "I had FERRA did a scan for me, but he got nothing out of it." "Well, I'm not surprised at that. Technically, FERRAs aren't programmed to read any afflictions that aren't... well, physical." "Yeah, I guess you can— wait, what do you mean, not physical?" "I suppose you'll want a good explanation by now," Nurse Redheart chuckled, seeing the other mare's paling expression. "The word 'saudade' isn't your typical Equestrian word. In fact, if I'm not mistaken, it actually stems from the Lusitano language, from the Iberian region. The Lusitanian ponies use it to mean these deep feelings of melancholy and nostalgia, just like the feelings you're having now. That feeling that something's missing in your life, something that you once have now long gone, with the notion of it never coming back." Lyra just stared blankly at the nurse for a moment. That explains why FERRA got nothing out of the scan, though at this point she had more questions than answers. "Wow," she managed to utter out. "Wow, huh? Which only makes it stranger for you, of all ponies, to have the saudades." "It is a little strange once you told me about it..." she mumbled, pondering. "You know why that happens?" "Not the faintest idea, honestly. Usually, ponies with the saudades have something they really miss and want to go back to. They have a precious memory that they hold onto, which gives them these feelings." "What kind of memories?" "Well, anything, really," Nurse Redheart simply stated. "Your family, your friends, your pet, the first day you went to the amusement park, the happiest birthday you had, the Summer Sun Celebration, the hangout place you used to go with your friends, your favorite diner... it could be anything. At least, anything that brings a positive light to the pony's life." Anything that brings a positive light to the pony's life. To her life. Lyra knew her life pretty well and she knew she had enough happy moments throughout her life to brighten up the entire district. That may be a downside to being an optimist, her thoughts reckoned jokingly. Really, though, what was she missing? Was she even missing anything to begin with? Was it just one of those bad mornings where her rational train of thought derailed and she was left desperately scrambling for an answer? "What if it's not the saudade?" Lyra asked. "What if it's just... stomach cramps or something?" "If it were only stomach cramps, I'm certain Nurse Snowheart would've known from the get go." "Yeah, probably..." "Lyra, I know it can be a little frightening," Nurse Redheart assured, notcing the uneasiness settling in. "But believe me, what you're feeling is normal. Sure, it's not your everyday typical emotion like happiness or sadness or whatever, but it's just the way your mind telling you to get what you never knew you needed. It's a funny story, trust me, but I've met so many who had the saudades getting what they wanted and guess what, they end up becoming much happier than before!" "Happier than before, huh," the unicorn mumbled. Another outwordly promise in her head, yet this one comes from the genuine words of a pact of friendship made over one near-death experience, a generous helping of doughnuts and two cups of warm coffee. She hated believing in sugar-coated words, having heard enough in her lifetime, though maybe swaying to the tune of one or two of them wouldn't nag her sweet tooth. Plus, the prospect of a happier Lyra Heartstrings play out better in her head than a heart-wrenching pit of misery. "Probably me assuming here, but there's no cure right?" she inquired. "No definite one, certainly," Nurse Redheart affirmed with a confident grin. "You're a smart mare, Lyra. You'll know what to do." "Oh, you~!" "Feeling better already, I see!" "Hey, you know I have a soft spot for compliments!" Lyra blabbered with flaming cheeks, her friend chuckling. "But seriously though, thanks. Not what I expected to hear, but thanks." "Anything for a friend! Remember, you're always welcome to visit me, even when I'm not working." "You bet your doughnuts, Redheart," she responded cheerfully, feeling better already. "Speaking of which, Donut Joe's this weekend?" "Craving for you to say that. You know I'll be there." A good-natured smile evoked from Lyra's lips; now that's a realistic promise. "I know you will." . . . . . . "You sure she didn't just make that up?" "V, I'm really, really sure," Lyra said aloud, looking over her shoulder at her hovering FERRA. "Plus, it's Nurse Redheart we're talking about here. Just like how you know your machines, she knows her... stuff!" "I don't know, Lyra," Vinyl's voice of concern quavered back from the pinholes cradling the robot's speakers. "It sounds kinda fishy to me. I mean, the saudade? What kind of Equestrian word is that?" "It's not Equestrian Equestrian exactly, but never mind that!" she blurted, her magic working to sort and place the last of the recently-cleaned dishes back into the cupboards. "Vinyl, I know you're worried about me. I'm worried about myself too, but at least we know it's not going to hurt anypony. Not physically, at least." "I know, I know... I just can't help but feel—" "Vinyl, if you're beating yourself up over the accident again, I swear..." Silence befell, the conversation coming to a sudden halt. Lyra stopped with her dishes, biting her lip at the lack of a response. Vinyl would probably be sulking right now, staring dismally at whatever contraption she was fixing like all the other times they had this conversation. She was probably a bit too harsh, Lyra thought to herself. "Hey, V?" she called out, her voice trembling. "You still there?" "S-Sorry..." "Don't be," Lyra responded, a little relieved and guilty at the same time. "It was an accident. Sure, I was stuck in a hospital for a long time. I know I whine about being in bed all day but it wasn't that bad." "You missed out the part where it hurt like hell." "Oh yeah! It hurt, didn't it? Broken ribs or something." Her feigned obliviousness made both mares laugh, before she continued: "Granted, it hurt, but it wasn't your fault. So do me a favor and blame gravity instead of yourself for it." "Gravity doesn't like accusations, don't you know?" Vinyl replied back, bringing forth another brief period of shared laughter. "Okay, fine. So I'll see you at work tomorrow Lye? Healthy and ready to go?" "Bet my paycheck you will." "Dangerous bet you're making there," was the response, giving both mares one last laugh. "I gotta go finish fixing this thing up. See you tomorrow, Lye." "You too." "Remember, if anything happens, give me a call—" "Okay, okay, goodbye!" Lyra exclaimed heartily, shaking her head. In a split second, her FERRA's upright antennae slowly slid back into the comfort of its brass shell, its red eye lighting back up again just as she settled herself onto her couch, sighing at her friend's overzealous worries. "Sheesh, Vinyl..." "Miss Scratch seems to have as much concern as you have of her." "She's the overly concerned one, FERRA," Lyra put it bluntly. "I'm worried about her current night job. She, on the other hoof, is worried about an accident that happened way long time ago. Kinda makes you wonder who the real victim of that incident really is." "Pardon me for saying this, but that was a rather appalling statement, Lyra." "Y-Yeah, I guess it's kinda mean..." she stammered, planting her snout into the couch. "I'm just... a little annoyed... I mean, we've talked about this a lot of times already..." With a huff, Lyra suddenly jerked back up, stretched her back and cantered off to her bedroom, discarding whatever negative thoughts prevailing her mind along the way. Leaping right into the warm confines of her bed, she washed all the day's worries with a sigh, leaving only the emptiness in her gut and the aching of her heart to worry about. Her FERRA whirred in with a whistle of steam, stopping just before the doorway. "Do you need me for anything else, Lyra?" it asked. "No, not for today," the mare answered, wistfully staring up at the ceiling. "I'll let you know if I do, bud." "Alright." Once the robot slunk away, Lyra was finally left in her realm of thoughts, all of them about the nagging feeling of the saudade. At least it wasn't some illness to be reckoned with as she had initially believed, though how to make it go away would be a tough nut to crack. Maybe it just fade away like an everyday migraine does, she told herself. It was an emotion, after all. "We'll see how it is tomorrow," she whispered to herself, a whisk of magic switching the lights off. For now, all she wanted was a good night's rest. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Do you ever remember? How it was all like in the past? How, back then, you wouldn't have to worry about such mundane things? You find joy and laughter at every corner of Equestria? How you could find the beauty of a trivial matter instead of the reeking disturbance it is now? Funny, isn't it? How times have changed so. Nostalgia, the romantic called such flurry sentiments. Nostalgia. I prefer it solely as what it actually is: a secretion of hormones in our endocrine systems that hotwired a particular set of neural circuits which brings a lightbulb to our brain's emotional duplex, the amygdala. Now, that is wondrously complex. No beautified contexts or patrician linguistics. Just basic, comprehensible science. Really, it all boils down to our instincts. We think we are in control, but in reality, everything around shapes us so. It is the environment that we evolved in that made us believe we are all individually different. That we are distinct. That we are in power of our minds, but really, our minds follow a greater shepherd. A shepherd beyond all manners of thought, yet we follow him, not because we were willing to, but because we were conditioned to. Science is my shepherd; I shall not delude from it. I am a mare of my faith, you see. . . . . How about you? . .