Spelunking
By BlazzingInferno
Spike sat in the middle of an island of light, staring upward. Town hall was above him, somewhere. So was Twilight’s Castle, and Fluttershy’s cottage. In Spike’s mind, the stone ceiling overhead became glass and he saw the the whole of Ponyville stretched out before him, albeit from underneath, a collection of mortar foundations and crowded basements instead of welcoming homes and colorful storefronts. Even Sweet Apple Acres was up there, the tree roots reaching towards him like leafless branches. They couldn’t down reach this far, though. Nothing could.
This was a different world, a world that knew no sunshine and barely acknowledged his twin lanterns. He could see the individual fibers of the blanket beneath him, and every single speck of dirt that had taken up residence within. He could see the blanket’s fuzzy edge and the hard rock that lay beyond. He could see the winding riverbed pattern of the floor rushing away, but not where it ended. Shadows crept in almost immediately, first filling in the tiniest of rivulets and soon creating huge pools of black.
The cavern’s entrance, the echo-filled portal between this secret world and the regular one, was all but invisible from here. Following the footprints in the dust was the surest way back, distantly followed by wandering around with claws pressed against the wall. He’d done both over the course of his previous visits, probing the cliff-like outcroppings on the the north side, the smooth stalagmites on the south that resembled melting candles, and the shallow stream that flowed along the east wall. His first expedition revolved around uncovering every secret the darkness held, banishing every shadow in turn until he could be sure that there weren’t any deep holes or monsters waiting to swallow him. It wasn’t until he retreated to the cavern’s center that he’d finally appreciated just how special this place was.
He’d come back on a monthly basis ever since, each time taking in more of its otherworldly wonders. Twilight rarely asked where he spent his days off anymore, which saved him from having to make excuses. It wasn’t that the cave was a secret, exactly. He couldn’t bring Twilight here all the same. Not yet. She’d gasp in wonder just like he had, and then she’d set about cataloging every inch of the place. Every secret would become a line in a notebook nearly indistinguishable from its neighbors. That was how she took beauty in, he knew, but watching her logically deconstruct this world would invariably deconstruct it for him, too.
His hearing reached far beyond the lantern light’s edge. If he held his breath he could hear it: the babble of the distant stream, a sound so quiet that a gentle breeze would have drowned it out. That was sad, somehow. That little stream had carved out this entire cavern. One by one, it had pried dust-sized grains out of rock faces and carried them away, forming the smooth spot that he’d chosen for his blanket and lanterns. What was it creating now? Would the cavern be even more impressive someday? Maybe it would eventually collapse in on itself, and nobody else would ever witness what he was seeing now. The ownership of the moment, of this sensory experience, rested on him like a mantle. He wasn’t the master of many things, but he’d take these quiet spelunking trips over a hundred crystal castles.
Spike reclined on the blanket and sighed a slow, contented sigh. Some days he came here purely to think, but not today. Today he’d come to watch the stars. This world’s sky, meticulously carved by that same little stream, commanded the same awe as Luna’s best work. Constellations of emerald, topaz, peridot, amethyst, jade, ruby, and diamond shone overhead, catching the lantern light that the surrounding rocks all-but ignored. If he tilted his head ever so slightly, the gemstone stars twinkled.
An imaginary line curved around a cluster of yellow and looped around two blues and a solitary green to form a flower. A more jagged line united a collection of reds into a lightning bolt. If his gaze ventured too far away, both images would vanish in the sea of stars and possibilities. Once again, he’d forgotten to bring a sketchbook. Tracing his finger through the air would only block his view, but if he had a quill and paper then he could draw it out or even write about it where there was still time.
There would probably be time for hundreds of years, of course. The cave would still be here tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that. The distant stream couldn’t utterly change this place that quickly. Still, he wanted to capture it. He wanted to preserve the sheer multitude of colors and shapes that remained stationary in the cavern but never in his memory. Within hours of setting off for home, the stars that formed his flower and lightning bolt would be lost to him, lost in the everyday things that he’d find himself thinking about. Twilight could, and did, keep her favorite books by her bed to make reacquainting herself with their stories and diagrams easier. Why couldn’t he do the same with this starry sky made of gems? Why couldn’t he bring an impression of it home with him, something more permanent that what he could carry between his ears? Something to cherish for the rest of his life.
Bringing along another set of eyes, a pair that could drink in visual wonders far better than his, would have to do.
The low, rushing sound of a long held breath finally being exhaled prompted him to glance over at his companion. Rarity lowered her own gaze from the sky above, opened her mouth, and then closed it again. She could sense it too, the hallowed nature of the cavern’s silence that only the stream was permitted to break. Spoken words, just like trees, buildings, and wind, were alien concepts here. A smile was all she needed to convey meaning: Thank you. Thank you for sharing this with me.
Spike smiled back. I’m glad you like it.
He’d gained something to cherish after all.