The Failed Spell

by silverspawn

Chapter 3

They had walked for hours on end, but the landscape didn’t change.

The effect of the alcohol had worn off, and only now that it was gone did Twilight realize that it had been something to be thankful for. Without the hazy fog clouding her mind, there was nothing left to protect her against the merciless reality of the moment, the fact that she was likely going to die in a matter of weeks... and drag somepony else with her. She might have been in better control of her emotions now, but somehow, she felt even more lost, even more hopeless. The spell to extend their time had been cast, and all that was left now was to walk. To walk ahead, one step at a time.

All too soon, Twilight got tired, but she didn’t say a word about it, and neither did Rarity. There were spells against the tiredness, but using them now was pointless, it would reduce the overall distance they’d be able to travel.

No, they had to sleep. Just not yet. They could walk for another while... who was she to pause when Rarity was still keeping up? Just another half an hour...

Rain pouring down. Even though both of them were perfectly dry now... rain pouring down.

Rain...

“Uh...” Twilight squeezed her eyes. Had she fallen asleep? No, that wasn’t possible. She was still walking. By the looks of it, she had simply lost consciousness. Been somewhere else. A heaviness arose in her breast when she realized that she had been without fear this past while... even if she had no idea how long it had been.

She couldn’t go any further.

“Rarity? I need to sleep.”

Rarity stopped walking, halting beside her. Her mouth was half open, her eyes almost closed.

“How did you manage to go on for so long...”

“I... I don’t know. How did you?”

“I just...” Rarity hung her head, her voice sagged and slow. “I just didn’t want to stop while you’re still going.”

“You didn’t have to...”

Rarity said nothing, and Twilight didn’t finish the sentence.

“Can you give me something to drink before we go to sleep?”

“I... right.” Twilight shook her head, wondering why she didn’t feel more thirsty herself. Casting a simple spell, she summoned a bowl of purple energy, holding it outside the range of the dome.

“You can’t grasp this with your telekinesis, so I’ll have to...” her voice trailed off. Rarity simply nodded. With a feeling of shame and guilt, Twilight brought the bowl to the tip of her opened mouth, gently pouring the liquid inside.

“More?”

Rarity nodded, and Twilight repeated the process, before drinking one bowl full herself.

“I won't be able to hold up the dome,” she said. “We’ll both be drenched during the... well. But I can make us both fall asleep immediately.”

Rarity nodded again, apparently exhausted to the point where she wanted to avoid speaking altogether. Nervously, Twilight crouched down, spending a few moments in the futile attempt to find a comfortable spot on the ground. Still silent, Rarity lay down beside her, slipping as close to her backside as she could. Another wave of shame washed over Twilight as Rarity’s limbs wrapped around her body, this time touching and crossing the line to self-hatred...

“I forgive you.”

Twilight's breath froze. For a moment, she wasn't sure whether or not she had imagined them, but then...

“I know what you’re putting yourself through. I can see in your eyes. And I know you have reasons for it, but I forgive you. Stop blaming yourself, and we'll be more likely to make it through this."

She wanted to answer, but she didn’t know what to say. Eventually, the only response that she had was, “I’ll try.” The constant staccato of rain hammering onto the ground had long become a soothing background noise, and the tiredness began to overwhelm everything, even her shame, even her fear; but somewhere deep inside, a weight was taken off her heart.

Twilight lit her horn, just barely feeling the first drops on her skin before she slipped away...

“Twilight?”

“Uhmmmmghhhhhh...”

“Can you recast the dome? I’m cold.”

The tiredness was still there, but there was no place for it. There was also no realization coming back, no blissful seconds of oblivion upon waking up. She knew where she was right away.

And she couldn’t believe how short the night had felt.

“R-Right.” She had to do all she could to help Rarity. With this thought in mind, she suppressed her tiredness and summoned the dome once more, but the absence of rain was hardly a consolation, as it didn’t dispel the cold, the tiredness, or even the water. It would take over an hour for their coats to be dry again.

At some point, Twilight's legs had begun to hurt.

She didn't know when it had been, but now was the first time when she noticed, and it was a real problem. Pain she could handle, it didn't stop her, but it was there with every step, every second, with no escape. It was the kind of pain that she would have been fine with enduring for a while, a few minutes, even an hour if necessary, but the fact that no end was in sight was what made it so grueling. Would she have to endure it for the rest of the day? Or for the rest of her life?

She lowered her gaze. Something between a cough and a sob escaped her lips, and she threw a quick glance towards Rarity; they were walking so close to each other that she must have heard it, but to her relief, the fashionista showed no reaction. Moving her eyes back ahead, Twilight wondered if she should ask for a pause, but decided against it. Pausing wouldn't stop the pain in her legs, it would still be there once they continued. And they had to make distance.

They had to make distance...

“Are you hungry yet?”

Twilight hesitated, but nodded.

“So am I.” Rarity sighed. “Let us talk about something. We shouldn’t spend the final days of our lives in silence.”

“Alright.” She didn’t say that it would cost them energy - both of them knew that. And she was happy to accept any decision Rarity made. “Any... topic?”

“Do you think the princess is searching for us? Maybe we don’t have to get back to population ourselves. Maybe we’ll be rescued.”

“You know that there is no happy answer to this, don’t you?”

Rarity’s lips twitched. “At the moment, I would take a sad answer over silence. Out with it.”

“Well...” Twilight sighed. “I don’t know how much influence Celestia has in the outer lands. If she knew where we are, I have no doubts she’d come to save us. But given that she has no idea... the area is enormous. Remember the pond? The farther you distance yourself from the center, the larger the circumference. Can you imagine how large it is at the edge of Equestria? And if the overall land has nine times the area...” She gave a chuckle. “That makes the circumference or the outer world almost three times as large. She’s powerless.”

“I see. Poor dear.”

“‘Poor dear’?” Twilight cast her friend a disbelieving look. “The princess?”

“Certainly. She will miss you, Twilight. I doubt that age makes one resistant against loss.”

“Mh.” Twilight cast the spell, pointing into a direction slightly left of their current course. “Do you... ever get mad?” She made a vague gesture around. Rain was still pouring down. The ground was still flat, brown, unbothered, static, and the sun was still not visible. Nothing had changed since their arrival. “Do you get angry at... this?”

“No,” Rarity said, “but only just. Whenever the thought of where we are crosses my mind, I try to think about something else.” A few moments passed. “What about our friends, Twilight? Do you think they are out there, searching for us, even though there is no use?” Her voice took on a longing tone. “I like to imagine that they miss us, that they’re unable to return to their normal lives, just for a while.”

Almost had Twilight said a word of criticism, but she swallowed it, scolding herself for the thought. Rarity was being honest. Of course she wanted her friends to worry, and of course she knew that it was a stupid, harmful thing to wish for. Admitting it, freely and without regret, was a sign of strength.

And she felt it too.

“Yeah. I want them to worry.” It were words that came over her lips before she realized that she was speaking them. “I want Pinkie Pie to stop being happy. I want Rainbow Dash to be stubborn, to go out looking, even though she knows that we’re too far away. I want Applejack to be unable to focus on her work. I want them to think about us in every single moment.” She breathed out, a stimulating wave of shame and excitement dwelling up inside her. “Only for a little while.” To her relief, this was not something she said because decency demanded it, but something she meant. She wanted her friends to worry about her, to think about her, to realize how important she was to them, but she did not want them to suffer. Not really. Not for long.

She threw a glance towards Rarity, who was watching her with her head tilted.

“That was rather malicious, Twilight. I don’t feel nearly as strongly.”

“You don’t?” The feeling of shame intensified, but she kept her head high.

“No. It is quite satisfying to hear you say these things, though. Seeing the mistakes in others always helps one to feel better about herself.”

“Yeah.” Twilight sighed. “I want to be loved,” she said, the enormous confession now coming over her lips without effort. “I want ponies to respect me, to like me, to think I’m powerful, selfless and humble. Ohhhh Rarity... I like it when ponies think I don’t even notice or care about admiration, too.” She laughed. “Maybe I deserve to be here, who knows?”

“Well now, darling. Of course you do not deserve to be here. Both of us want admiration, the difference is just that I admit it, while you... well, you are powerful, selfless, and behave humbly, don’t you? I don’t see how wanting others to notice this is a crime.” Twilight raised her head, and she could see Rarity smiling. “I think most ponies do.”

“I hope so.” Closing her eyes, Twilight once again wished that she were somewhere else. “If we ever get back, Rarity, we’ll have a stronger bond than ever before. And by the way, I think you’re super hot.”

Rarity giggled, and it was a sound so candidly girly and full of joy that Twilight couldn’t hold back a snicker herself, and before they knew it, both of them had halted in their walk and begun to laugh.

“Why do ponies never have these types of conversations if they aren’t about to starve?” Twilight asked, as soon as they had calmed down a scotch and continued their walk.

“Habit, I would presume.” Rarity gave another giggle, this time without any apparent reason. “Though dignity is a silly thing, I must agree. A useless thing.”

“Maybe if we all listened a little bit more to Pinkie Pie, we’d have figured this out earlier.”

“Listened to Pinkie Pie?” Twilight turned her head, seeing Rarity raising her eyebrow. “Good that you brought up the subject. I would like to ask your opinion of our dear friend. What exactly would you say is up with that mare? Is she simply dense, or is there a nicer way to put it?”

“Pinkie is not dense,” Twilight said without hesitation. “She’s autistic.”

“Autistic? Pinkie Pie?”

“Of course.” Twilight threw a disbelieving look at her friend. “Don’t tell me you didn’t know.”

Rarity huffed. “But she has plenty of interaction with her friends, does she not?”

“Uh, yeah.” Twilight grinned. “Okay, look. Here’s the deal. She’s mentally very unstable. If things go wrong, she gets depressed really quickly. And she doesn’t understand how other ponies think and do things. But she’s also selfless, so she wants everypony else to be happy; and since she doesn't understand them, she might also think they could become depressed, too. That’s why she tries so hard to make everypony around her smile. And it’s why she’s usually so sensitive, but sometimes unintentionally rude. She just doesn’t get what’s out of line and what isn’t. You see? It all fits together.”

“Hm...”

“But you know what the crazy thing is? She’s not the one who’s being dense. Everypony else is. She’s... living her life the way that makes sense. With lots of smiles. In the moment. Well, but then again, she also has concentration issues. She doesn’t know when to calm down, focus, and, uh...”

“Shut up?” Rarity suggested cooperatively.

“Exactly.” Twilight gave a shameless chuckle. “Yeah. Still - not dense.” She rolled her eyes. “I have figured out Pinkie Pie months ago. Hah. But I guess not everypony can be as smart as me... ouff.”

“That’s quite enough self-praise for now, I think.” Rarity coughed, the glow around her horn fading.

“Meh.”

The pain was still there, and Twilight could feel the first signs of tiredness arising.

Before the spell, had she been forced to guess how one would feel in a situation such as hers, then she might have guessed that it was something to get used to, even in a relatively short amount of time. She might have thought that one could not constantly be aware of the hunger and cold, the pain and exhaustion, the fear and hopelessness. The same way a pony could not constantly feel happiness in every moment, even if she had everything she wanted, the same way a mind such as hers would surely not be capable to experience continuous pain.

And now, she still couldn't tell whether or not her past self would have been correct. She had been able to push the pain away earlier, but only by occupying her mind with something else, and by talking. Whilst walking in silence. things were different. It was as if time was passing in chunks, and the truth was that she was simply not able to tell whether or not she had lost consciousness during parts of it. She would find herself fully aware of her surroundings at random times, not able to tell how long it had been or what she had been thinking about seconds ago. It was as if she was constantly drifting in and out of a dream, and her mind was incapable of storing information the way she was used to. In a way, the constant awakening was worse than any other fate that she could have imagined, as she was being made aware again and again of how horrible a situation she was in... but unlike yesterday, snapping back was a more subtle process, and that made it even more painful. It didn't feel as though she had truly forgotten where she was, and because of that, she was not even able to consider her moments of trance to be something mild or liberating.

All she was left with was the taste of a promise of peace, but one that was always out of reach.

At least one of her assumptions would have been wrong. It might not be possible to feel joy in every moment, but it was possible to feel misery without end; or if not, then at least a constant shift between misery and nothing at all, which was probably the nicest way to describe what was happening to her.

The day had been long, and yet it had been short. Twilight was not able to tell whether time had been tightening or stretching itself out. It was like looking back on a night after which countless disconnected images were still stuck in her head, and it felt as though so many things had happened, when it had also been over so quickly, almost as if she had been betrayed of the time she should have had.

“Twilight?”

“Hmmm...”

“I want to go to sleep.”

“... alright...”

Twilight stopped, her feet aching, her lungs exhausted, even her horn hurting from the constant effort of keeping up the dome.

“I also believe that... ah.”

Twilight cast her a look, but then she looked away. Shame washed over her, unjustified, misplaced, but perhaps stronger than ever before.

“I suppose we could go a few more steps, then,” Rarity said after the sound of squirting had stopped, but Twilight just fell down at the spot.

“I’m so sorry, Rarity.” She felt another wave of tears dwelling up inside her, and this time, she had no strength left to repel them. “I’m so very, very sorry. I would gladly give up my life if only I could get you home. I would... I would do anything.” Her breaths came out shorter, the sobs barely audible. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Instead of an answer, Rarity walked up from behind her, putting her forelegs around Twilight’s neck and pulling her onto the ground. “We should sleep,” she whispered. “We might die soon, but tomorrow is another day. And after that another one. Our time is not yet up.”

“Right. Right.” Twilight swallowed, lighting her horn to cast the spell they needed. “Good night, then.”

Twilight woke up, cold and hungry. She could feel Rarity’s body clinging to hers from behind, the only source of warmth there was.

Quietly, she recast the dome, only to then stand up and stare at Rarity’s sleeping figure. She knew there was no reason not to wake her; they had to make distance, it was the only way for them to survive. And yet... waking her up would mean pulling her out of her peaceful slumber, and into the hell Twilight had created.

Before realizing what she was doing, she found herself kneeling down, casting a spell to dry Rarity’s fur as best as she could. It was not a smart thing to do, the spell consumed too much energy to be worth it, but she just had to do something. If she could make Rarity’s awakening more pleasant, even if only by a little bit, it would be worth it.

As soon as she was finished, she felt regret dwelling up inside her. Shutting it out, she leaned down, picking up Rarity’s body, embracing her and lifting her up.

“Mhhh...” Rarity opened her eyes. “Twilight?”

“Yeah.”

“Now this is a pleasant way to wake up. Thank you.”

“We should start walking,” Twilight said, but not without a nod and a smile.

“Yes, of course.”

Casting the spell, Twilight pointed her horn into the corresponding direction, and both of them began their trek. Walking was painful, but Twilight knew that it would soon get better... though not by much.

“I’m dry,” Rarity remarked after a few steps. “Well, drier than I should be, anyway.” She gave her a questioning look, and Twilight swallowed, nodding.

“You still feel guilty.” It wasn’t a question, and Twilight had no response.

“Twilight, you do know why we had the party, don’t you? And why we had Applejack bring so much of her cider?”

“I presume you wanted me to lighten up.”

“Quite.” Rarity sighed. “Well, I suppose that worked, didn’t it?”

“If you’re trying to say that what happened was also your fault... then don't.” Her own words were like a knife cutting into her skin, because she knew them to be true. This guilt was something which belonged to her, and she wouldn't let Rarity talk it away. “Because it's not.”

“No... I don't suppose it is.” Rarity’s voice was slow, weary. “And I didn’t mean to suggest it, either. No...” She sighed again. “I just like seeing you happy, is all.”

“Oh...” Twilight’s ears drooped. She bit her lip. Once again, she had no response.

Comments

[bjorn2345]

I just don't see this ending well and am bracing myself