//------------------------------// // Chapter II: A Vast, Empty Future // Story: Bright Star // by darf //------------------------------// A cream coloured hoof shook as it reached for the handle of the boiling pot on the counter. Carefully, as much as it could manage while still jittering, the hoof was joined with another, holding still the pot as it carried it towards the table in the center of the room. A small kitchen, by the look of the cabinets and counters, with a window on one side meant to let light in, if it weren’t blocked by curtains, which it was now. The pair of hooves jittered the pot, pouring its contents into two cups set out on the table, a steaming stream of black coffee. Carefully, with a small rattle, the two hooves lifted the cups onto two respective plates, and carried them over to the kitchen table with a series of tiny chimes. The hooves did their best to hold steady as they moved from the cups to the small holder of sugar set out in the table’s center. They removed the lid with a soft clinking, then took up a nearby spoon. They held the spoon aloft, wobbling back and forth in their grip for a few seconds before returning it to the table. They braced against the table, pressed firmly into the wood, as though they might allay their shaking with the steadiness of the structure. After a few seconds, the legs to which they were attached settled, and they once more attempted to pick up the spoon. Almost no jittering. Carefully, with precision, the two hooves measured out a spoonful of sugar and poured it into the first cup. Not a drop spilled. They collected a second spoonful, slowly, and began to drop it into the second cup. The clink came loudly as they jerked sideways, flinging the cup and the container of sugar onto the floor where they shattered with a piercing sound. The spoon followed shortly thereafter, settling on the ground with a vibrating clang, emptying its payload of sugar onto the green tile underhoof. The sound of a small start settled into a sigh. The pony in possession of the shaking hooves raised one to her forehead, where she held it for a moment. Still, the shaking was there—subtle, slight, but there. After a few seconds of slow breathing, the pony went to the sink and collected a small cloth. She kneeled and began to wipe up the spilled coffee and small pile of sugar. A knock came at the door mid-wipe, which caused another sideways jerking of hooves. This time there was nothing to spill, and by fortune the motion missed the collection of shattered cup nearby. A moment, and the cloth was picked up, set in the sink. The pony navigated her way past the remaining cleanup, held herself at the door for a moment, forced a smile, and opened it. “Good morning, Iris.” The pony at the door was an older looking mare with a light-brown coat and her grey-purple mane tied in a bun atop her head. She was wearing a somewhat official looking neckband, and held a notebook to her side. A pen was tucked behind her ear. “Good morning.” Iris’s voice twinkled with a soft brightness, but her expression failed to match it. Her eyes looked tired. “Are you doing alright, dear? You look out of sorts.” “No, no, I’m fine.” Iris stepped back and waved inside, holding the door for her guest as she stepped over the doorway. She closed the door with a soft click, and the pony holding the notebook waited for a moment before making her way to the kitchen. As she walked, Iris’s eyes suddenly lit up, and she dashed forward, holding a hoof in front of her guest. “Oh, sorry, I almost forgot... just mind your step here. I had a bit of a spill earlier and didn’t have a chance to clean it up before you arrived.” The grey-maned pony eyed the mess of sugar and coffee-cup pieces on the kitchen floor. “Oh, dear,” she said. “Would you like me to help take care of that?” Iris shook her head. “No, it’s alright. It’s fine. I’m sorry, though, really. I’d planned to make coffee.” “It’s alright,” the older mare said, stepping around the fine white shards. “I’m not particularly a coffee sort of pony anyways.” She took a seat at the end of the table opposite the door. Iris eyed the mess on the floor for a moment before taking a chair on the other side, pushing it out with a creak of the legs against the tile. She sat with her forehooves on the table for a moment before seemingly remembering herself and pulling them back to her lap. After a few seconds, she sighed. The older mare set out her notebook on the table and removed the pen from behind her ear. “Are you sure you’re doing alright, dear? I’m sure with things the way they are you’re more entitled than anypony to be a bit frazzled...” The mare held a hoof out across the table, but Iris simply looked at it and sat up straighter. “No, it’s fine. I’m a bit rough around the edges at the moment, yes, but it’s nothing I can’t handle. Shall we get on with things?” The older mare held her hoof for a moment longer. Her face furrowed into a concerned frown, which she held as she pulled her hoof back, taking up her pen and setting it atop the first open page of her book. “Very well. I’m sure you’d wish for me to not take up too much of your time, hmm?” Iris smiled bleakly and rubbed a hoof against her forehead. The older mare smiled too, but hers gave out much quicker. “Well then... how have things been? Aside yourself, I mean. Has he been...” The mare trailed off, asking the rest of the question with her eyes and a hoof placed just so on her notebook, pen waggling as it prepared to work. Iris sat for a moment. She looked down at the table, letting the question sit, then back up. Her smile dissipated for a moment, but returned as soon as it had vanished. “Things are... fine.” “Is he showing any signs of improvement?” “Some.” The older mare scribbled a sentence or two in her notebook. “You’ll be sure to let us know if you see any immediate or significant changes, yes?” “Yes, of course.” Iris nodded and tucked her hooves together on her lap, still smiling faintly. The older mare held her pen against her chin for a moment, then returned it to the book. She closed the notebook with the pen inside and set her hooves atop it. Her eyes glimmered in the faint light peeking in through the curtains, and she looked forward towards Iris, whose attention had become momentarily caught in something invisible to the side of the kitchen. The older mare waited a few seconds until Iris’ gaze returned, upon which she started slightly in her chair before settling again. Smiling, softly. “You know that you can ask any of us for help if you feel you need it, don’t you? We have a whole division trained for this sort of thing, and I can’t imagine how hard it must be on you to— “It’s fine, really.” Iris brushed a hoof over her forehead, adjusting a lock of her brown mane that had fallen out of place. She stood, suddenly, her chair making the same creak on the kitchen tile. “I’m more than capable of handling myself. Thank you though.” The older mare’s mouth furrowed into a frown as she picked up her notebook and stood, slowly. “I didn’t mean to imply you couldn’t, dear. But it’s not just yourself you’re handling at the moment.” The mare looked to Iris, whose smile remained steady. She blew a breath out her nose, but said nothing. The two of them stood their for a few seconds, the older mare’s hoof settled on the back of the chair she had sat in, as though she was frozen mid-movement. After a shorter while, Iris cleared her throat, and the mare removed her hoof from the chair. “I understand. And again, thank you. But I do promise I’ll let somepony know if things become... too much.” “Please do,” the mare said, tucking her notebook along her side. She walked across the kitchen as Iris held out a foreleg to usher her towards the door, carefully sidestepping the pile of shards that had once been a cup. Iris followed her to the door, and held it open as she readied herself to leave. As she stepped out, the mare paused and looked back. She found Iris still there, holding the door, the faintest flicker of dissipation lingering at the corners of her smile. “We’ll keep in touch, and see you next week. No need for a strenuous examination if things are more or less the same.” “Thank you.” Iris nodded low. “Until next week then.” The mare nodded back and stepped out of the doorway. Iris shut the door after a few seconds. As her hoof pressed the door closed, she leaned into it, holding herself up against the wooden frame. She closed her eyes and lifted a free hoof to her forehead, when she ran it over her brow. Shaking. A strand of her mane fell out of place, but she didn’t bother to adjust it. In the living room, the stately carved wooden clock bonged in a subdued fashion, announcing in a measurement of volume that it was ten o'clock in the morning. The light was bright outside, but faltered when it impacted the black of the curtains. Iris sighed and lowered her hoof, still shaking slightly, to the floor. She stood for a moment, breathing in and out, collecting air in her lungs before letting it out slowly. A few seconds after the clock’s nearby ringing had stopped, she let out a long breath and opened her eyes. They fell immediately upon the small pile of broken cup-ware on the kitchen floor. She made her way to the closet to collect her broom and dustpan. Her hooves mostly subdued their shaking until she had finished cleaning up. When she was done, she put the broom and dustpan away and surveyed the kitchen one last time before walking through it, into the living room, past the antique clock and to the door of the guest bedroom. She knocked twice, waited a few seconds, and then opened the door.