Monochrome

by A Man Called Horse

6

Twilight found herself floating through a sea of nothingness. She saw nothing, she heard nothing, and, with the exception of a permeating cold, she felt nothing. She opened her mouth and called, “Hello?!” But the emptiness dampened the sound of her voice, like water poured over a flame. “Where am I?!”

With no warning whatsoever, she felt her hooves come in contact with something solid. She yelped, flailing her hooves awkwardly until they stood flat on the sudden surface beneath her.

That’s when she realized she had her eyes closed.

Opening them, she saw a road beneath her, white bricks and black mortar. She slowly, hesitantly raised her eyes, and found a massive gate, vaguely familiar, standing before her. She gulped, then moved towards it. Her hoofsteps rang like hammers against stone, unreasonably loud, yet with no echo.

As she approached the gate, she raised a hoof to push it open, only for the massive black doors to swing open of their own accord. When she saw what was on the other side, her mouth fell open in surprise.

“Canterlot…”

Except, it wasn’t. Everything was black and white—not gray, but literally black, and literally white. She stepped through the gate and into a square, her eyes raising to look at the bizarre buildings looming above her. Stretching over everything, a white sky filled with tiny black stars. There were no ponies to be seen; no sound, no movement.

She did the first thing that came to mind: She got her bearings, and set off in the direction of her family home. She walked as quietly as she could through the empty, two-toned streets, eyes darting back and forth—half in hope, half in fear.

* * * *

“I can’t believe none of ya saw it!” Applejack said before shoveling another forkful of pancakes into her mouth and masticating with abandon. “It was plum amazin’, it was!”

“Well, I heard it,” Apple Bloom said with a pout. “I thought the barn had ‘sploded again, or somethin’. Scared me somethin’ awful!”

“Eeyup,” Big Mac supplied with a chuckle.

Granny Smith kept her eyes on the newspaper in front of her. There, on the front page, was a large photograph of the rainboom in full color. “Must’ve been a sight to see,” she opined. “My fool self slept through the whole thing. Musta been something special what did that.”

There were three knocks against the front door, and the family turned as one to look.

“Well, I wonder who’d be stoppin’ by this early?” Granny Smith said.

Applejack got up to find out, trotting to the door and opening it. And then, the newspaper was no longer the most colorful thing in the room. Four sets of wide eyes fell on Rainbow Dash standing at the door, blue as the day she was born.

“Good morning, everypony,” she said with a beaming smile.

“R-Rainbow!” Applejack looked her friend over from head to hoof, then slowly took off her hat. “Land’s sakes, look at ya! That…” She met her friend’s eyes. “That really was you, wasn’t it? This mornin'? I thought it had to be, but…”

“It was me, alright,” Rainbow said with a devilish smirk. “But that’s not why I’m here.”

“Then… why are ya here, sugarcube?”

“Well, Pinkie Pie’s getting a little party together for Twilight. Y’know, to make it up to her for missing the meteor shower and all.”

“Yeah?”

“Yep!” She looked at the entire family now. “I was just wondering if you’d be willing to do the catering.”

Applejack opened her mouth, then closed it, glancing back at her family before turning to Rainbow again. “But… I thought you said Pinkie was throwin’ the party.”

“Oh, she is. But she’s got her hooves full with all the organizing and decorating and what-not. The party’s tonight, so we’re kinda on-the-clock, and if somepony else could just look after the grub, it’d help lots. And who better than you guys? Twilight loves your baking!”

Applejack averted her eyes. “I dunno, sugarcube. I don’t think I’d be much hel—” Her words choked off when she saw a blue hoof rest on her shoulder.

“Please, Applejack? I really need your help. For Twilight.” She gave Applejack a hopeful smile. “Can I count on you?”

Applejack’s face bore a pained expression for a fraction of a second, then she looked past Rainbow at the orchards. Even now, she remembered the rainboom, and the way it had lit up the apple trees. Biting her lip, she turned and looked at her family. One by one, the other members of the Apple family smiled and gave her a nod. When she turned back to Rainbow, Applejack was smiling too.

“Yeah, darlin’. You can count on me. On all of us. We’ll whip up the biggest table o’ vittles you ever did see.”

“Thanks, Applejack,” Rainbow said, holding out her hoof.

With a sniffle and a chuckle, Applejack bumped it with her own. “Think nothin’ of it. Now, I guess we’d better get to bakin’, y’all.”

With one final smile in Rainbow’s direction, Applejack turned around and began to close the door. Just before the door shut, Rainbow thought she caught a glimpse of red on Applejack’s flank.

Rainbow turned around and looked back towards town. “This… This might just work!” With a chuckle and a flap, she lifted into the air. “Alright, that’s one down.”

* * * *

Twilight knocked on the door to her house, and like the gates to the city, it opened on its own. She walked into the foyer cautiously, glancing across the black-and-white caricature of her childhood home.

“Hello?” she called. “Mom? Dad? Shining? Is anypony home?”

There was no answer. She made her way to the stairs and ascended them, taking the familiar route to her old bedroom. Mom had always kept it the same for her, even after Twilight moved out. It had always comforted her that, no matter what else changed in the world, her bedroom would always be waiting for her, should she need it.

So it was that the complete absence of anything in her bedroom was more than a little jarring to her. Gone was her bed and her well-used writing desk. Gone were the books and the lab set that her parents had gotten her for her thirteenth birthday. It was just a room now.

She looked across it dull eyes, then, with a sigh, closed the door and made her way back downstairs. She decided to make one final sweep of the house before she left. The living room, the kitchen, the family library—all of it: lifeless and unfurnished.

She made her way into the dining room, by now thoroughly dejected. Then, she screamed.

There, in the dining room, was a black, square table, and around it, three ghostly, black-and-white ponies. In spite of everything, she knew them by their shapes: her parents and brother.

“Oh my gosh, you’re here!” she ran to them. “What’s going on?”

None of them answered, or even looked at her. Twilight became aware of a fourth, unoccupied chair on one side of the table, and somewhat reluctantly took a seat.

“You have to help me!” she pleaded her family. “I don’t know where I am! This is like Canterlot, but… not. It’s more like a dream. Or a nightmare.” She buried her face in her hooves. “Oh, I wish I was back with Spike. And… and Zecora… and…”

She gasped, eyes opening wide. “That’s right! The meteorite! How could I have forgotten? Am I in the meteorite’s mana field?” Her eyebrows furrowed. “But… no, that can’t be right. How could the meteorite know about all this?” She gestured to her ‘family’. “Unless… this is my own mind. Yes! I remember now! I used the network to access my own mind, in the hopes that through it I could tap into the meteorite.” She held onto both temples with her hooves. “But… how do I do that, exactly?”

With a sigh, she looked down at the plate in front of her, finding it empty.

“I really wish I could see you guys again,” she said to her pseudo-family. “For real, though. I feel so los—” Her words cut off as she looked up.

The table, formerly a square, now stretched clear across the dining room, disappearing through the doorway to the kitchen. Raising an eyebrow, Twilight climbed down from her chair and followed the elongated table into the kitchen to where it ended at three unoccupied seats. On the floor, black hoofprints led out the back door.

With a confused shrug, and she followed the tracks out of her home.

* * * *

Fluttershy tried her best not to sob. After a brief respite following the sonic rainboom, the animals had been more anxious than ever. As before, they refused to listen to her. She had begged. She had pleaded. A few times she had resorted to using the Stare. And, in one instance that would no doubt keep her up at night for some time to come, she even raised her voice at a bunny. She was utterly at the end of her wits.

Suddenly, like magic, all the animals in her home came to a stop and fell silent. She watched as they looked around in confusion, then turned their heads as one to the front door.

A moment of silence passed, followed by a knock.

Raising an eyebrow, Fluttershy made her way across the room, stepping around animals in her path, until she got to the front door. Opening it, color fell into her home. Her first instinct was to squint, as if it were a beam of sunlight. But it wasn’t. It was Rainbow Dash, rainbow and all.

“Rainbow?” Her voice like stepping onto a frozen lake. “Oh my gosh…”

“Hey, Flutters,” Rainbow said casually. “You got a minute?”

Fluttershy looked over her shoulder at the animals, all of whom were standing at attention, staring at Rainbow with wide, mystified eyes. “Rainbow, how are you doing that?”

“Mmm? You mean the animals? Just my natural charisma, I guess,” she said with a grin. “So, anyway... You remember that scarf I lent you a while back?”

Fluttershy finally tore her eyes away from the dumbstruck animals. “Y-yes…?”

“Well, could you get it for me?”

“But…” She leaned to the side, looked past Rainbow to the world outside. “It’s not even cold.”

“Pretty please?”

“A-alright.” Giving Rainbow a skeptical look, Fluttershy turned around and fluttered up the stairs to her bedroom.

Once she was out of earshot, Rainbow turned to the animals. “Okay, you guys. I know that the color thing has gotten all of you worked up. And I can sympathize. Believe me. But it’s time to get ahold of yourselves and behave.” She leaned forward, giving them the fiercest glare she could. “You’re making Fluttershy feel really bad, so I want you to listen to her, capisce?”

The animals didn’t move. That is, until one of them stepped forward: a squirrel, looking at Rainbow with black hole eyes.

“Oh, it’s you…” Rainbow said uneasily. “Nuthanial, right? The one who wouldn’t quit staring at me before?"

The squirrel didn’t so much as chitter, instead looking Rainbow over appraisingly. Finally, his little squirrel lips gave a tiny smile, and he winked at Rainbow.

Nuthaniel turned around and began barking at all the other animals. Rainbow didn’t know what he said, but whatever it was, it seemed to do the trick. The animals nodded amongst themselves, and Nuthaniel turned back to Rainbow with a crisp salute.

“A-alright, then!” she said, shrugging off the weirdness of the proceedings. “Fluttershy bends over backwards to pamper you guys. Now, it’s time to pay her back.”

“Did you say something, Rainbow?” Fluttershy asked as she glided back downstairs and held the scarf out to Rainbow.

“N-nothing!” She took the scarf and awkwardly wrapped it around her neck, then flashed Fluttershy an unsteady smile.

Fluttershy eyed her closely. “Are you feeling okay, Rainbow?”

“What? Oh! Yeah, never better. Thanks for returning the scarf.” She turned around and took one step outside. “Oh, and one more thing?”

“Yes?”

“We’re throwing a party for Twilight tonight, and I was wondering if your songbird choir could perform? Maybe sing some of Twilight’s favorite songs?”

Fluttershy wilted. “Well, I don’t know. I mean, it sounds like an awfully sweet gesture for Twilight and all. But, the critters haven’t been listening to me at all lately.”

Rainbow smiled over her shoulder. “Oh, I think they’ll come around.”

* * * *

The hoofprints came to an abrupt end. Twilight puzzled over this for a moment, then looked up. Before her was a familiar sight—comforting, even, were it not for its somber appearance. A sign above the door read: Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns.

Twilight approached the building and entered. It was smaller than she remembered, but maybe that was natural. She had only studied at the school itself a few years before she went to live at the palace, and since then she’d become a full-grown mare.

Even so, little remembered things flashed through her mind as she made her way down the hall. The doors on either side of the hall opened as she passed them, then closed once she was gone. Here was Professor Bond’s chemistry class. There was Professor Maze’s magical theory class. And over there was the room where she’d gotten her cutie mark. It all came back to her like water droplets falling into a frying pan. Of course, the school hadn’t been so empty back then. And, in a way, it had. The only difference between Twilight and the lonely little filly who’d wandered these halls years ago was that she wasn’t little anymore. This was a place of knowledge, not of friendship. Thus it would ever be in her memories.

She came to a stop outside one of the doors, and she actually smiled. Professor Nova’s astronomy classroom. Twilight’s favorite class. She entered the open door and looked around. On the chalkboard, somepony had drawn a little model of the solar system. They’d gotten it wrong, though. Too many planets.

Twilight walked to the chalkboard and, levitating an eraser, wiped away the solar system, missing only the outermost planet, off to the side.

Lifting a piece of chalk in her telekinesis, she began to re-do the solar system, but as soon as she drew a mark on the blackboard, a ray of white light burst from it. She squinted against it, then looked into the opening like a peephole.

There was something on the other side.

She erased the mark, then began to draw a new one, a large circle, scratching a line of light into the dark surface of the chalkboard. Once the circle was complete, the entire inside of it turned white and fell away, leaving a hole in the chalkboard and directly through the wall behind it. Twilight, wide-eyed, tentatively stepped up to the hole and looked through.

Then, she gasped. For on the other side of the hole in the blackboard was one of the rooms of the Canterlot Archives. She looked left. She looked right. Then, she gave an unsteady flap of her wings and passed through the hole.

* * * *

“I must say, Rainbow Dash,” Rarity said around the pins she held in her teeth. “This party sounds like just what the doctor ordered. And not just for Twilight, either, though the poor thing certainly deserves it. But I think the whole town could use a little celebration.”

“Uh-huh,” Rainbow said absently, fidgeting.

“Please, darling. Hold still. I want to make sure that it fits you.”

Bolts of fabric, gray though they were, lay strewn about the floor, selected to make the dress that now adorned Rainbow’s vibrant form. Rarity squinted as she made the final alterations, fitting the sleek dress to Rainbow’s figure.

“Though,” Rarity added, “I am surprised you asked me for a dress.”

“Well, y’know,” Rainbow muttered with all the patience she could muster. “It’s a party and all. And I don’t mind getting cleaned up from time to time.” Her ears drooped. “Besides, I knew you’d enjoy it. And after the way I acted yesterday, you deserve it.”

Rarity clucked her tongue. “Darling, please. You’ve already apologized for that. Let’s just put it behind us and focus on the festivities ahead, shall we?”

“But I was such a jerk!”

“Yes, well… none of us have been at our best since this whole situation began. Though, I have to say, you’ve handled yourself quite well.” She gestured at Rainbow’s body. “You’re positively radiant! Thank you ever so much for letting me make you a dress. With your coloration, it’s always a treat, yet you seldom give me the opportunity. It’s very generous of you.”

Rainbow hummed. “Well, I learned from the best.”

Rarity met her eyes, then gave the tiniest of smiles. She returned to her work for a moment or two. “Annnnd, there! All done! What do you think?”

She directed Rainbow to a nearby mirror, and the pegasus did a double-take. Even she had to admit that the dress was beautiful. How Rarity got those colorless fabrics to complement her own colors so well, she’d never know.

“Wow, Rares! I don’t usually go in for this frou-frou stuff, but I have to admit, I look good.”

“I don’t think I can take all the credit for that,” Rarity replied with a satisfied smile.

Then, Rarity noticed Rainbow staring into the mirror with her mouth open. “What is it? Is something wrong?” She followed Rainbow’s gaze to the mirror, then froze as her eyes met Rainbow’s in its reflective surface.

“Rarity?” Rainbow reached a hoof to the mirror and turned it. “You ought to see this.”

The mirror turned to face her, and it took Rarity a moment to register what she was seeing. Namely, herself—purple mane, blue eyes, and everything.

“My… my colors! They’re back?” She looked at Rainbow, her eyes rapidly filling with tears. “But… how?”

“Same way I got mine back, I guess,” Rainbow said with a cryptic smile. “Well, I guess I’d better go check up on the preparations. You’ll be there, right?”

Rarity approached Rainbow and gave her a nuzzle. “I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

Once Rainbow’s dress was wrapped and she was gone, Rarity returned to the mirror and gave her reflection a more thorough examination. Then, she shuddered. “Ugh, I’ve really let myself go. I’ve got to do something about my mane!”

* * * *

Twilight never thought it would happen, but she was lost in the Canterlot archives. She’d been in this building too many times to count, knew its layout like the back of her hoof. And yet, she was lost. Perhaps it was merely her wounded pride making excuses for her, but she could swear that the shelves were moving. And the books themselves were no help; none of them had any titles on their spines or pictures on their covers. And the inside of the books…

She stopped and picked a random book off the shelf. Opening it, she found a map of Equestria, dark except for a white ring which seemed to expand slowly as she watched, millimeter by millimeter. She closed the book and continued on, moving to the next row of shelves.

As she walked, she heard a grinding sound behind her. She whipped her head around, finding that the way she’d just come from was now a dead end.

“Aha!” she yelled at the shelf, pointing at it. “I knew it! You are moving!”

The bookcase remained silent, and Twilight’s hoof fell to the ground with an anticlimactic clack. With an embarrassed, frustrated huff, she turned and continued on her way.

After a while, she selected another book and opened it. Inside, two large, illustrated ponies—Saddle Arabians, judging by their dress—stood on a platform under the open stars, with a telescope between them. The one on the right was black, and the other white. As Twilight stared at the picture, a high-pitched whine rose in a violent crescendo until she closed the book to silence it. She replaced it on the shelf, then backed away slowly.

She almost yelped when her rump bumped into the shelf behind her. She turned, finding that the shelf only had one book. With a trembling hoof, she lifted it and looked inside. There, she found a diagram of a solar system—the same incorrect one from the chalkboard. Her eyebrows furrowed, and she turned the page, finding an artist’s impression of a planet.

Twilight froze as she looked at it, drifting off into a daze. She didn’t know how much time passed before she snapped out of it, finding tears in her eyes. Closing the book quickly, she placed it on the shelf.

Slowly, ever so slowly, she found her gaze drawn to the right. At the end of the aisle, a shelf rose up, commanding her attention. On dragging hooves, she made her way to the lone shelf, and, as if with a mind of its own, her hoof reached out and pulled on one of the books. With a click, the entire shelf swung inward, revealing a dark tunnel.

Twilight gaped at the opening, then shone some light into it from her horn. The darkness simply swallowed it up. After one last glance behind her at the Archives, Twilight gulped and stepped into the tunnel.

* * * *

It was easily the weirdest party scheme Rainbow had ever seen.

The entirely of town square had been set aside for the event. Alternating black and white lanterns were strung over the square, and at the center lay a dance floor consisting of alternative black and white squares. Tables were in the process of being set up, each of them covered with white-polkadotted black table cloths and the occasional origami penguin. And Pinkie…

“No, the buffet table needs to go on the other side. Thank you!”

The pink party mare—for she was, in fact, pink once more—was a blur from one spot to the next, overseeing the little militia of party-helpers she had seemingly recruited right off the streets of Ponyville. She finally spotted Rainbow and ran to her in a flash, grinning from ear to ear.

“Hey, Dashie! How’s everything look?”

Rainbow looked over the scene. “Well, it’s odd. But you know what? Somehow, it works! Great job, Pinks!”

Pinkie squee’d. “And what about you? How are the others?”

“I was just at Rarity’s—she’s got her colors back, too, by the way—and got her to make me a dress for tonight. She’ll be here, and so will Fluttershy. She’s rounding up her bird choir to sing for Twi. And Applejack…”

“Here I am!” the farm pony in question called, trotting into the square with a wagon full of baked goods in tow. Her golden coat shone in the sun, and a pair of green eyes peered out from under her still-gray stetson. “Got enough food here to feed a small army,” she said through a chuckle.

“Great!” Rainbow said, giving Applejack a knowing nod. She turned to Pinkie Pie. “Looks like everything’s coming together. Keep up the good work!”

“And what about you, Dashie?”

“Me?” Rainbow said, her expression sobering. After a gulp, she replied, “I’d better go talk with Twilight now.”

* * * *

Twilight was just starting to consider turning around when she spotted a light at the end of the tunnel. With a small gasp, she began to walk faster, then to gallop, until she finally exited the tunnel and stepped out into…

The atrium of the royal palace. She slowed to a stop, looking around.

“Funny, I don’t remember…” She turned around, and the tunnel was gone. “Obviously,” she said with a snort.

By now, Twilight was getting used to the two-tone color scheme of… whatever this place really was. But even so, the palace seemed far more intimidating like this than any other place she had been to so far. The ceiling seemed to tower hundreds and hundreds of feet above her, and her hoofsteps filled the expansive space like the sound of cannon fire. Especially disconcerting was the lack of guards. There were always guards, even at night.

For want of somewhere better to go, she made her way to the throne room. She didn’t know why she bothered. It’s not like she expected anything to be there.

Imagine her surprise when she opened the doors and there sat Celestia on the throne.

“Princess!” she gasped, smiling widely as she began to gallop across the room. She came to a stop at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the throne, and only then truly registered the princess’ appearance. Her coat was pitch black, and her white mane fluttered in the solar winds. Her eyes—white—had no pupils, yet seemed to be directed slightly downward, at a chessboard set up on a table before her throne. An empty seat was positioned across from her.

“Princess?”

The shadowy alicorn neither replied nor acknowledged Twilight at all.

“Please! You have to help me! I think this is a part of my mind, but… it’s like it’s being affected by the meteorite’s magic. I think there’s some way I can find a way into its spell matrix, but I don’t know where I’m going or what to look for. Do you know anything at all I can…”

She trailed off as ‘Celestia’ continued to ignore her. With a defeated sigh, Twilight sat down at the chessboard. She turned sullen eyes to the board, finding a game already in progress.

Giving Celestia a lethargic glance, she asked, “So… is it my move?”

The larger alicorn gave no reply.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” She raised a hoof and moved her bishop, no real strategy in mind but nonetheless capturing one of Celestia’s pawns.

One of the Celestia’s rooks moved of its own accord, retaliating and capturing Twilight’s bishop.

Twilight’s eyebrows furrowed, and she considered her next move with more interest. Finally, she spotted a fatal flaw in Celestia’s positioning. With a single move of her knight, she captured Celestia’s queen and, with the aid of her own queen and a rook, it was all over.

“Checkmate,” she said. “Wow, you’ve really let your game go, Princess.”

She looked up from the board, only to find that Celestia was gone. In place of her throne, a staircase stretched into the upper levels of the palace.

“Great. What now?” She got to her hooves and began climbing the stairs.

* * * *

Rainbow paced back and forth in front of the door to Twilight's library

“Okay, Rainbow," she muttered to herself. "Just be cool. It’s Twilight. She’s your friend. Just apologize and invite her to the party. No big deal.”

She regarded the door, and the closed sign hanging from its knob.

Probably closed up to do her research, she thought. Hope she doesn’t mind me interrupting her.

She raised her hoof and, after a final bout of hesitation, knocked on the door.

There was no answer.

“Twilight?” she called. “It’s Rainbow! I know you’re probably busy, but can I talk to you for a bit?” She blew a strand of her colorful mane hair away from her eyes, then blinked. “Oh, wait! And I got my colors back! Maybe that’s something that can help you!”

Still, there was no answer.

Rainbow gave a small frown. With a flap of her wings, she flew up to one of the library’s windows. Shielding her eyes from the sun with her hooves, she peered inside, finding neither hide nor scale of either of the library’s inhabitants.

“Hmmm…” After a glance behind her to make sure nopony was watching, Rainbow nudged open the window and flew inside.

A quick search of the library confirmed her suspicions: No one was there.

She growled. “Great. Well, you know what? If she went out, then I’ll just sit here and wait until she gets back!”

She pulled out one of the bean-bag chairs that she liked to sit in when reading and plopped down on it, wriggling her blue rump back and forth to make it just so. Then, comfortable, she waited, watching the front door.

“I’ll wait all day if I have to,” she muttered.

Unfortunately, Rainbow's vigil as short-lived. She hadn’t slept since yesterday morning, and she found her eyelids growing heavier with each passing minute. She was asleep before she knew it.

* * * *

The staircase had taken Twilight all the way up the highest tower of the palace. She now sat on one of the higher balconies, overlooking the facsimile of Canterlot. Beyond the city’s gates, the landscape of Equestria was shrouded in shadow. Not even the mountains were visible. A white sky filled with black stars wheeled overhead, more quickly than was appropriate, but she paid it little mind, instead focusing her attention on the city.

“It’s so empty,” she mumbled. “Was it always so empty?”

No, she thought. Of course not!

That Canterlot below her was a ghost town, a mere shadow of the real thing. The real Canterlot had always been packed with ponies. Even in the loneliness of her foalhood, Twilight had always had her family, the Princess, the various teachers and fellow students and palace guards to interact with. But even so, Canterlot had always represented a lonely time in her life, a time before she’d gone to Ponyville and met the best friends a mare could ask for.

No. In her mind, Canterlot was alienation.

“But,” she considered out loud, “maybe it was worth it, if that was the path that would lead me to so much happiness.”

Except, now that happiness was slipping away from her. And had been, even before the Graying. The forces in their lives—their dreams and responsibilities—were tugging them apart, spreading them to the winds, and none of them more so than Twilight. What chance did friendship stand against such a monolithic march?

Her eyes flooded with tears, and she rubbed the wetness away with a hoof.

“… … …”

Twilight’s eyes flew open. A voice—like something out of a memory—echoed from the darkened distance, so achingly faint that she couldn’t make out the words. She looked, and there, in the shadows, about where she’d expect Ponyville to be, a ghostly blue glow was visible.

“What in the…” she whispered.

“… … …”

“Hello?!” Twilight called in response. “I can’t understand you!”

Suddenly, the entire world—if it deserved to be called such—gave a powerful, unyielding lurch, like a rattle being given one firm shake. A familiar drone rang through the white skies, drowning out the calling voice. The bluish glow vanished with finality.

* * * *

Rainbow woke suddenly, sitting upright in the bean bag chair and finding herself in the dim, quiet emptiness of the library.

“Twilight?” She looked around the library, but found it empty still, other than herself. “Huh. I could’ve sworn I heard Twilight. Must’ve been a dream.” She rubbed her eyes, then looked to the window, seeing that it was nearly dark outside. “Whoa! I gotta get to the party!”

She found some paper and a quill at Twilight’s writing desk and scribbled out a quick, sloppily-mouthwritten note:

“Dear Twilight,

“If you get this, come on over to the town square. We’ve got a surprise for you!”

She considered the note for a moment. Nothing fancy, but then she never was one for words. She chewed on the quill for a moment, then signed:

“Your friend, Rainbow Dash.”

She left the note on the desk with the horsehead statue, where Twilight was sure to find it. She left the same way she’d come in, shutting the window behind her.

* * * *

Twilight didn’t know how long she sat there, waiting for the voice to call out to her again. With each passing second, she felt her wings drooping ever more to her sides.

That voice, whatever it had been, had stirred something deep inside of her. Something good. Something her heart had forgotten how to feel. And now it was gone, drowned out and swallowed up by the meteorite’s magic. Even now, the drone continued, softer now, more soothing, like the song of a siren.

“It must’ve been nothing…” she muttered. “Another hallucination, maybe.”

Without moving her wings, Twilight felt her hooves leave the balcony, like a balloon cut loose of its string. She felt herself being pulled upwards, but she couldn’t be bothered to care much. She merely watched with resigned eyes as the city sank into the darkness below her. For the briefest instant, through some trick of perspective, the streets of Canterlot fell into an alignment not unlike a solar system.

Then, Canterlot disappeared in the shadows, leaving Twilight drifting upwards. She looked up to see one of the black stars drawing nearer. Except, as she did, she noticed that it wasn’t a star at all, but something like a hole, punched into the white dome of the sky. She felt a cold fear pass through her, but couldn’t muster the strength to resist as she was pulled through the hole and into a more complete darkness than she had ever thought possible.

* * * *

Bon Bon listlessly made her way to the buffet table and began pouring two cups of fruit punch. She ran tired eyes over the party decorations and couldn’t help but give an amused snort at the weirdness of it all. Try as she might, though, she couldn’t bring herself to smile.

She felt a hoof tap her on the shoulder. Turning to look, she nearly dropped her punch at the sight of Rainbow Dash in all her colorful glory, accentuated in all the right places by a sleek dress.

“Hey, Bon Bon,” Rainbow said. “You and Lyra still not talking?”

Having recovered from her surprise, Bon Bon’s posture sagged. “As a matter of fact, we’re not.”

“Mind if I give you a suggestion?”

“What’s that?”

“What you oughta do is walk up to Lyra and…” She whispered into the earth pony’s ear, and Bon Bon felt herself blush slightly.

As Rainbow pulled away, Bon Bon met her eyes, bit her lip, and cast a hopeful look across the party to where Lyra sat dejectedly at a table, idly fiddling with an origami penguin. She looked back at Rainbow and gave a small nod.

Rainbow watched as Bon Bon made her way across the party and back to their table, setting the punch down and sitting beside Lyra. After a moment for mustering courage, Bon Bon leaned over and gave Lyra a ferocious, passionate kiss. Lyra froze, eyes wide in surprise, but then—slowly, tentatively—she began to return the kiss. This public display of affection was met with everything from smiles and whoops to rolled eyes and small frowns, but the two mares paid no mind, giving and receiving everything they felt for each other in a moment that belonged only to them.

Finally, their kiss ended. They pulled apart and slowly opened their eyes, blue and gold eyes meeting. The crowd’s reaction was now a unanimous applause, and the two once-more colorful mares hugged each other, each hungry for the other’s presence.

Bon Bon’s misty eyes met Rainbow’s from across the party, mouthing a silent word of thanks before nuzzling into the unicorn’s neck. Rainbow smiled, gave her a nod, and turned away to give them some privacy. Instead, she looked out across the party, little points of color strewn here and there.

"It's working..." Rainbow whispered with a grin.

“There you are, darling!” Rarity called, approaching with an orange Applejack and yellow Fluttershy in tow. The fashionista looked back and forth before asking, “So, where’s Twilight?”

Rainbow sighed, rubbing one foreleg with the other. “I dunno. She wasn’t at the library. I even waited for a while, but it started getting late. I left her a note, but…”

“Yeah,” Pinkie said, startling them with her sudden presence by their side, “I went by the library earlier, too, to give Twilight a snack. But no one answered.”

“I wonder where she could be,” Applejack said.

“The poor dear’s probably working tirelessly to solve the Graying.”

“Well, if that’s the case, something tells me she’ll really want to show up for the party, then,” Pinkie said, gesturing to all their colorful forms.

“I guess there’s nothin’ we can do but wait and hope she shows up.”

With a nod of agreement, the five of them dispersed, spreading out into the party to mingle. Rainbow hung back a moment by the buffet table, looking off into the night.

“C’mon, Twi. Where are you?”

* * * *

“Where am I?” Twilight’s voice asked idly, echoing into the void around her. Everything was dark and silent and still—as if there was nothing there at all. Just her, hanging limply in zero gravity, with only her loneliness to keep her company.

After who-knows-how long, she reached a decision.

“It’s better this way. Trying so hard to hold onto everything just ends up making things worse. Maybe the fewer attachments I have, the less it’ll hurt when separation comes.”

But, if that was true, why was she so unhappy? So cold inside? Why did she feel like she was already dead? How could the avoidance of pain, itself, be a cause of pain?

“Please,” she whispered to herself, because who else was there to hear it? “Please, anyone. I don’t want to be alone anymore…”

Her pleas were met with cold, unfathomable indifference, older than time itself.

She wept silently into the nothingness.