From Dusk to Night

by KuroiTsubasaTenshi

6 - Shadows

The Ponyville train station was, as expected, practically empty. We were getting a much later start than I’d have liked; by now, the first two trains to Fetlock Falls had already departed. We could have made the first, but that would have involved leaving right after my shift.

As much as I wanted to see the festival, going as a tired, sweaty mess would have been a terrible mistake. After quick trip home, a shower and a power nap, at least the latter half of my problem was solved. The first had become more or less manageable, leaning a bit toward ‘less’.

Even though we had a late start, if I could last the day, we could also stay later. While I’d liked to have also traded away the previous night’s shift, I was already lucky to have freed up one night. Turns out most of the weather team wasn’t too keen on taking the darkest, loneliest shift on the schedule; I got the feeling Cloud Kicker only agreed to this next night because she felt she owed me from that time she ducked out when her kid brother nearly burned down the school house.

In any event, at least there was a light at the end of the tunnel: if the doctor’s estimate was right, I’d only have three more shifts before I could give it back to Night Flurry.

My flight satchels were almost uncomfortably light, with my emergency weather gear stowed at home and hardly a ration added for so short a trip. With my semi-frequent outings to Canterlot, one might think I’d get used to it, but after a lifetime of extended travel, a full pack was always going to be the most reassuring. Still, prudence is only prudence so long as it’s practical, a principle that even my highly-prepared parents embraced.

Despite the platform being out in what was essentially an open field, Night Flurry’s steps almost echoed as he trotted across the wooden planks. His legs were as rigid as stilts and his bandaged wing and flight satchels sagged with his back. But it wasn’t the bags that weighed him down; no, it was the awkwardness, the aftermath of the explosion that burdened him most.

It would take a special level of obliviousness or apathy to dismiss the whole incident. To be honest, while he had much of the former, he let his emotions drive him hard enough that I’d have thought him more likely to flee, backing out of the trip.

Instead, he insisted on paying for the tickets as penance. While I couldn’t help but be a bit wary, I didn’t want to discourage him from making genuine amends. So I grudgingly accepted, the end result of which was him shuffling up to the ticket counter.

“T-two for F-Fetlock, please.” Night Flurry scuffed his hoof.

“Sure thing.” The yellow mare at the booth smiled warmly; I wagered she’d seen more than her fair share of nervous customers. As she set to work scribbling and stamping, my eyes drifted behind her.

Right smack in the middle of the pink and purple wall was one of those hanging cat posters. It was the classic tree variation with a poor black kitten holding on for dear life. Hang in there, baby.

I always found myself distracted from the motivational part by the fact that in order to get their precious photo, someone had to be cruel enough to dangle their poor kitty from a tree.

“There we go, that’ll be ten bits,” the mare said.

A few seconds of fumbling later and we were on our way. As luck would have it, the train pulled up just as we reached the edge of the platform. I led the way, choosing the rearmost coach and settling into the seats at the very back. From there, I could see anyone who entered.

Night Flurry fidgeted with the back of the seat in front of him; luckily, no one was sitting in it. “You know... I've actually never taken a train before… I umm.. I guess that's not too surprising for a pegasus, though…”

I nodded. “Yeah, I only take it when flight conditions are especially poor.”

“In far off places?” Night Flurry stared at a blank spot on the wall.

“Uh, sometimes? I was actually talking about Canterlot.” I replied, scrambling to get us back on the same page. “Sometimes they get carried away with ‘artsy’ to the point that it becomes unsafe.”

“O-oh, haha… well, um, I-I’ve never been to Canterlot, so it’s k-kind of far off for me?” He sunk down.

“Really? It’s a beautiful city. You should really go there sometime.” I couldn’t decide if it was more strange or appropriate that he hadn’t been there. On one hoof, his dad worked for the Guard. On the other, his dad worked for Guard and he was estranged.

“Y-yeah… Maybe one day…” Night Flurry mumbled, playing with the seat even more. It rattled and creaked under the assault.

“Night Flurry.”

He stopped and gave me a nervous stare.

“Try to relax a bit. If you’re this tense the whole way there, you’ll be too exhausted to enjoy the festival.”

He took a deep breath that stuttered almost as much as his speech. “Y-yeah... just you know, um... the train. Yeah, never been on a train... t-that's all.”

Outside, a mare, who was presumably the conductor, shouted, “Passengers for Fetlock! Last call!”

“It’s not much different from riding in a cart.” I put on my best reassuring smile. “You’ll see soon enough.”

“R-right... Okay, I'll just um... think of it as that.”

The train lurched forward. For all my talk, I still found it a bit unsettling, but as such a small part of the trip, it was easy enough to put out of mind.

While he was still fidgeting, Night Flurry already seemed to be doing better. Perhaps it was only because he was concentrating so hard on his forehooves, but it was still something. Another minute passed before he finally looked up.

“Oh! Um... you said you went to Canterlot... So, um... where else have you gone?"

Trips far too numerous to remember all at once stirred in the back of my mind, clambering over each other as they fought for my attention. “Most of Equestria's major cities, plus all the smaller towns in between. There’s more than that, but I can’t name them all off the top of my head.”

Night Flurry stared off at the wall again. “I lived in Cloudsdale nearly my whole life. N-never got to travel much. I came to Ponyville for the job... I-I wish I could travel more.”

“It’s not too late. The trick is to start small and nearby, such as Canterlot, then work your way up from there.”

He nodded slowly, thoughtfully. Wherever the wall had taken him, it was far away. Perhaps it was time to give him some space.

It was just as well, as fatigue suddenly hit me hard. I stifled a yawn, letting my head gradually come to rest on my forehooves.

Night Flurry looked over, his bandaged wing twitching. “S-sorry.”

“I know. What’s done is done. Look toward doing better in the future.”

He glanced at his forehooves again. “M-maybe I could k-keep an eye out while you nap? M-make sure we don’t miss the stop and all?”

“I wouldn’t mind resting my eyes for a bit.” I nodded, eying him up and down. “Just don’t fall asleep yourself and… wake me if anything out of the ordinary happens.”

“O-okay. Yes, I can d-do that!” He smiled.

“All right, thanks.”

I closed my eyes, but kept an ear open. After a few moments, I found myself listening to the sounds of the tracks as the train rumbled along; it was pleasant, rhythmic, hypnotic, even. It wasn’t even ten minutes before I’d dozed off entirely.

---

I was running, hooves tapping on the solid white floor as I followed the walls into eternity. I wanted to turn back and look, but I couldn’t, nor did I need to. His silhouette was already motionless, a distant mound behind me.

There’s too many… You… you have to run! Live... and show them they... can’t just do what they want.

His name was Silent Vigil. He was one of eight.

My hooves gave way and the floor exploded in a shower of powder. The walls shifted too, spiralling around me in an impenetrable flurry. Just an inch from my muzzle was the only clear detail: a set of hoof prints. Four steps in the middle of an abyss of snow. Fours steps that stopped dead.

“Twi… light, I… where are you? I… I’m sorry. The cold... it’s too much. Forgive me…”

The snow solidified, becoming a muzzle, then an entire face. An eye peered out from under Ivory’s black forelock. She simply stared at me until I had to look away. When my gaze returned, she was gone.

Why didn’t you do anything? Why did you abandon them?

The voice was mine.

---

“... Dusky? Dusky... um... ... okay? Um... w-wake...?” Night Flurry’s voice drifted into my awareness. I wasn’t even sure if I was still dreaming or not.

“D-Dusky? Um... Hey, it's a little early, but we're... um... ugh, I don't know... um, some great scenery out there... ha ha ha...” His voice was louder this time, cutting through the haze. This time, I was certain I was waking up.

My eyes snapped open, for all the good a blurry world did me. I had to blink several times to focus, but when I finally did, I scanned the car. Nothing had changed: the seats were just as empty as when I’d dozed off.

Raising an eyebrow, I turned to Night. “What’s up?”

“Oh, um... ha ha... n-nothing, really... you just... um, it looked like you were having a bad dream and... um, I-I was a little concerned... Sorry…”

Fragments of the nightmares resurfaced, slipping over and through my mind. I frowned. The night shifts were clearly taking their toll; dreams like those only come out in force when I’m sufficiently sleep deprived.

“S-so stupid... I-I knew I sh-should have let you sleep. I'm so s-sorry!” Night Flurry stared at the floor.

I shook my head, half at Night Flurry and half at my unwanted thoughts. “No, no, I’m grateful. Thank you, Night Flurry. I… Nevermind, I’m fine now.”

Putting on my best smile, I pushed myself to a sitting position.

“Oh, um, okay... Y-you need anything? I can go f-find that conductor for another drink if you w-want one.”

“No, thanks. I’m not thirsty.”

“Oh... good, good... Okay, well... I-I think we'll be there fairly soon.”

I nodded, lingering in the silence a bit as I shooed away the last of my drowsiness. That was when the windows demanded my attention.

The tracks approached the edge of the plateau and while the view from the enclosure of a train could never hold up to that of flying overhead, it certainly wasn’t anything to scoff at.

Long, pristine drifts rolled over the landscape, their height gradually receding as they approached the river. An unstoppable child of the distant mountains, the water danced with deadly beauty as it cut straight through to the next cliff. There, the river became rapids, all too eager to meet the frothing edge of the world.

Finally, the waterfall itself came into view, where chaos became order. The current fell in a perfect unison, creating the illusion of a slow, lazy descent, as it disappeared into the mists below.

“I… I… … beautiful…” Night Flurry’s eyes were vacant, long lost in the waves.

I couldn’t help but smirk.

---

While Fetlock’s station was barely bigger than Ponyville’s and about as busy, it did have one thing spicing it up: decorations. Banners, flanked by more than an ample accompaniment of flags, streamers and balloons, bid us welcome.

A large, half-empty pamphlet stand waited by the furthest exit. Pinned to its side was a giant snowflake poster with a bright red arrow pointing out onto the street. Fun and Games, it promised.

And yet, despite the nigh-overwhelming show of festivity, my gaze was drawn to one of the station’s office windows. The blinds were drawn and shut, but I could make out enough about the large stallion’s silhouette that I could tell his muzzle was pointed my way.

A chill ran down my spine, the kind that went well beyond the normal discomfort I felt when someone took notice of me. Really, there could have been any number of reasons for a train station employee to be looking out the office window. I couldn’t say why, but something about that pony just didn’t sit right with me.

“Dusky! Flurry!” Blizzard Breeze’s voice pulled my attention back toward the platform exit. “Glad you could make it!”

As she cantered over, I took a moment to glance back at our mysterious observer. The window was empty.

“Oh, um, hello, Blizzard!” Night Flurry called back.

I frowned, resisting the urge to paw at the snow-dusted boards. It was probably nothing, but for the sake of my own sanity, I decided to keep an eye out. Better safe than sorry, after all. Perhaps I could let Night Flurry lead the way for a while.

“Hi, Blizzard.” I smiled and turned back to face her. “You weren’t waiting for us, were you?”

“Oh, no. Well, yes, but it’s also part of my job to oversee things. I just happened to check the station when the Ponyville trains came in,” Blizzard grinned.

With a short giggle, I nodded. “So I guess no guided tour for us, huh?”

“Sorry. I can walk you to the gate, though.”

“Sounds good.” I stole one more look at the empty office.

“Whoa, what happened to your wing?” Blizzard trotted around to Night Flurry’s bandaged side.

“I, u-um… uh…” Clutching his wing against his body, Night Flurry tried to sink into the floor.

With a sigh, I stepped in. “There was an accident involving alcohol and unicorn magic; he got caught in the blast.”

“That’s terrible.” Blizzard frowned. “It’s not permanent, is it?”

Night Flurry scuffed a hoof and looked away. “N-no, um, just can’t fly… c-can’t w-work...”

A grim expression passed over Blizzard’s face. “I hope that idiot paid.”

I nodded, “Me too.”

As annoyed at Night Flurry as I was, Merriweather and Starshadow were the real source of all the trouble. Just thinking of their treatment of Terra, I didn’t know whether to shudder harder with my head or my hindquarters. Regardless, I couldn’t say I’d have been sad if they’d been arrested.

Blizzard placed a hoof on Night Flurry’s shoulder. “But hey, you’re here, right? Don’t let it ruin your trip.”

Pepping up a little, Night Flurry nodded. “R-right. I-I’ll try.”

Blizzard led the way, glancing back as we left the station. “So, what did you think of the falls?”

“Awe-inspiring. It’s definitely among the biggest I’ve seen.”

Night Flurry stared off into space. “They were... breathtaking.”

The streets were a little busier, with several ponies and even a few griffons milling about. I gave them all a quick once over, but none of them big enough to be our mystery stallion.

While not as decoration-saturated as the station, the street still had its fair share of cheer. Each lamp post boasted a flag and the directional snowflake signs were frequent enough that even a foal couldn’t get lost.

As we turned onto another main road, Blizzard flashed us a grin. “Most beautiful thing you’ve seen all day?”

“Hmmm, probably.” I nodded. “I mean, the plains were pretty nice too, but the falls just give more of a sense of life.”

Night Flurry started, glancing back and forth between Blizzard and I. “Er, y-yeah… something like that.”

We stopped at the mouth of the street, where a couple of smooth ice columns rose up, stretching a massive banner overhead that read, ‘Fetlock Falls Winter Festival’.

“Cool.” Blizzard motioned beyond the arch. “So, the festival’s all around the town square. You can't really miss it. The knitting expo’s in the town hall. Anyway, I gotta get back to work. I’ll try to catch you on my next break.”

And with that she was gone, already disappearing into the clouds.

“Well, no use standing around out here.” I waved my hoof forward. “Let’s go.”

Red and white tents, just as advertised, greeted us. They crowded around the square in such number that, if I didn’t know any better, I’d almost have thought them the entire extent of the festival. But the flag-covered town hall was easy enough to pick out and somewhere in that sea of tents was the ice sculpture competition. Fun and games, indeed.

Night Flurry was already eying a couple of the booths, though he didn’t move, likely held down by the crushing pressure of choice. “So, um... where to first?”

“How about that one?” I motioned toward his closest pick.

A trio of milk bottle pyramids were spaced out along a long, wooden shelf. Two of the pyramids were awaiting assailants, while the third stood tall and implacable against the clumsy barrage of a couple giggling foals.

“You’re doing it wrong!” yelled the colt.

“Nuh, uh! You are!” the filly shot back.

With their snowball stockpile spent, they charged off into the crowd, laughing the whole way. I smirked, letting my gaze linger for just a moment.

“Step right up!” The carny, a tan unicorn stallion in a matching red and white toque and scarf set, flourished. “Knock over the bottles and win your very own Wonderbolt!”

He pointed a hoof at a second shelf, just below the bottles. An army of small, fully-uniformed Spitfire and Soarin plushes stared up from their cubby.

“O-oh, those are nice. I, um, g-guess I’ll try it,” Night Flurry said, eagerly dumping his bits onto the counter. He quivered as he tried to line up his first shot; I got the distinct feeling that even those foals had been calmer.

Whether through luck or skill, Night Flurry’s kick hit the snowball with perfect power. Unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said of his aim; the ball whizzed over the majority of the pyramid, taking only the top bottle with it.

“Oh! That’s too bad! Good thing you’ve got two more shots!” the carny called out as he reset the bottle.

Without a word, Night Flurry lined himself up again, sticking his tongue out to the side as he concentrated. I stifled a giggle, amused that something so simple could dispel all that nervousness—if only for the moment.

The next kick was more precise, but lacking in speed. The pyramid merely wobbled a few times as the shot bounced off the centre and flopped to the ground.

The carny grinned. “Almost! You’ve totally got this! If not, you can always buy more balls!”

Night Flurry set up again, with a fervour that told me he might be getting just a little too much into it. He launched with all his might. This one had the power and nearly had the accuracy, but I was almost certain the unorthodox weighting behind the carnival bottles would leave at least one up.

I thought I caught a small twinkle of light as the snowball connected, but I couldn’t be certain. There was no chance for a second look; the pyramid imploded, collapsing into a total mess. Something about the way it fell looked a bit off, but I figured I must have just misjudged the way the bottles would react.

Blinking once, then twice, Night Flurry stopped to steady himself on the counter. “I-I won?”

“Looks like,” I said, flashing him a grin.

“Well, how about that? Did I tell ya or did I tell ya?” Leaning in close, the carny shook Night Flurry’s hoof. One of the Spitfires dislodged herself from the pile and flopped down in front of him. “Care to have another go? Build yourself a Wonderbolt armada?”

“U-um…” Night Flurry looked like he was stuck, wedged awkwardly between his nature and his newfound victory.

Seeing exactly what the carny was pulling, I sighed and stepped up beside Night Flurry. “While that sounds nice, we’ve still a whole festival left to see.

“O-oh, right. Um… y-yeah, maybe we could come back after.” Night Flurry shrunk down, a sheepish smile plastered across his lips.

“Maybe.” I turned to the carny, giving him a sly smile. “Besides, I’m sure all your friends will get our bits one way or another.”

“Hey, just so long as you’re having fun, right?” The carny’s expression didn’t even falter.

We returned to the aisle, letting the current of the crowd guide us for a while. From time to time, Night Flurry’s pace would slow, almost to a halt, as he tried to look at four different things at once. There were more than a couple times I was worried the crowd would just bowl him over.

Night Flurry looked at me, though when I met his gaze, he jerked, fumbling for something to say. “It's, um, a lot... b-bigger than I was expecting…”

I nodded. “I have to admit, at least for a town this small, that it’s surprised me too.”

Shrinking down again, he worked his jaw; this time, words escaped him. I was beginning to wonder just how long he was going to be stuck when his face lit up and he rushed over to one of the larger tents.

“Skee Ball!” he called out, a giant grin spreading across his face as he motioned me over.

A pair of long ramps with circular rings at the end took up the majority of the booth. What little remained was dedicated to the carny, her snowball stockpile and a shelf full of random Daring Do-themed knickknacks.

Without skipping a beat, Night Flurry bought a set of balls and kicked one up the ramp. It landed in the ring second-from-the-centre. He launched another not soon after, hitting the centre. He beamed over his shoulder at me.

“I haven't played this since I was a colt.”

I smiled back. “Looks like you haven’t lost your touch.”

“Yeah!” His grin only grew as rolled the next three snowballs, finishing with just under a perfect score.

“Congrats!” the carny said, passing him a small, crude blue figurine that looked vaguely like the Sapphire Stone.

Night Flurry practically bounced as he deposited the lookalike into his growing stash. “Dusky, you should try! It’s fun!”

“Guess it’s about as good a game as any,” I replied, turning to pay the carny. I couldn't say I had a favourite carnival game, not since long ago, before I found out they were all rigged. However, if I just approached the games by writing off the bits as lost for a bit of goofy entertainment, they were still enjoyable enough.

I let loose on my first snowball, sending it on a fast track to the very centre. Unfortunately, fast was just a little too fast and it overshot, deflecting off an outer ring and settling into the third hole from the centre.

“Good shot! just don't put so much force behind it, it's all about control,” Night Flurry said, bouncing with the excitement of a younger self. His words were obvious advice, of course, but I simply nodded, not wanting to risk chasing him back into his shell.

My next ball was another perfectly-aligned shot, but just a tad lacking in force. It hit the middle ring head on and bounced down into the gutter.

“Aw, you were robbed. That should have gone in.” Night Flurry frowned rather deeply.

I nodded again. I might have objected to how worked up he was getting if the shot hadn’t been a gutter ball; that was just embarrassing. I redoubled my efforts and scored a second-from-the-middle, followed by two middle shots.

“Congrats!” the carny called again and shoved a piece of paper at me.

As I took my prize, I realized it wasn't a piece of paper, but a Daring Do cutie mark sticker. It was the cheap kind, where the adhesive would barely stick a day, the compass rose was the wrong shade of everything and the ink had run in random places. To put it another way: it made Night Flurry's statuette look like a high-class prize.

But my assessment was only reflex, another quality of my father’s that had rubbed off on me, fading as quickly as it came. Beneath my scrutiny was the roiling realization that this thing was designed for some foal to slap on her flank and pretend she was a hero. With a frown, I quickly stuffed the sticker into my flight satchel.

“You’re right, that was fun,” I said, playing up my smile. “So what now?”

“Um, I…” Night Flurry’s stomach gurgled for him. “I’m g-getting a bit hungry.”

While it was barely halfway to supper time, between the train ride and the festival, we’d cleanly missed lunch. I couldn’t really blame him if he hadn’t eaten as late as I. Hopefully, he hadn’t waited too long to tell me.

“Light breakfast?” I asked.

“B-breakfast? I, um, d-didn’t have one.” Night Flurry scuffed the ground.

With a sigh, I shook my head. “That’s not good. Let’s go find a food stand.”

I trotted down the aisle, sniffing and scanning for the telltale signs of carnival food.

“S-sorry, I’m not u-used to daytime routine,” he mumbled, trailing just a little behind.

My nose led us, not to a stand, but a quiet nook. There, a couple hole-in-the-wall diners stood side-by-side, each trying to look more enticing than the other. Personally, I wouldn’t have minded the sandwich shop, but among the typical event goer, I think the pasta diner had a distinct advantage.

As if on cue, Night Flurry’s gaze fell squarely on the pasta diner.

I was about to ask him if he’d like to eat there when I caught a flicker in the shadows behind him. It came from behind a knitting expo sign, the upright kind that was just barely taller than a pony. Hardly had I time to tilt my head, when a cloaked figure slowly, ominously stepped out and raised a hoof toward Night Flurry.

The figure’s stature was too short to be the mystery stallion, but I didn’t care. I lunged forward, throwing the weight of my body into the soft section of its side. “Look ou—oof!”

The mare let out a cry and staggered, even though it felt like I’d just slammed into a brick wall. She fell to her knees, cloak catching the corner of the sign and pulling itself off.

I stared at the large, armoured red mare and her shamelessly wide grin. “What the… Merriweather?!”

Comments

[mosshadow]

I wonder what that dream was about

[Tinskin]

Night flurry is just adorkable. I don't think that's what he's going for though.