Mamihlapinatapai

by WritingSpirit

Entry #10

"I'm sorry, but Her Royal Highness had specifically requested me to refuse you entry into her room."

Was it meant to be like this?

"Of course," I finally found it in me to respond to the head doctor's words. "Tell the princess I said hi."

Yes, it was.

It was meant to be like this.

I couldn't blame him for giving me that pitiful look; it's not as if I made it known to the world that I was sick of seeing it. Princess Twilight was the one that needed that, not me, and I'd be grateful that more ponies directed it at her instead, despite knowing that she would say otherwise. With a nod farewell, I made my way up to the roof of the building, just to get a little fresh air and a silent place for a moment of introspection. Something about these sanctuaries was that they usually tend to be in the most unlikely of places, though if you've ever been through a moment that blared with the most dissonant noises howling from every corner, it's for sure that you'd find a quiet haven in every corner of the street if you looked hard enough. With all the ruckus I had to go through, I think I well deserved such a special spot.

The light drizzle that met me when I emerged into the open was refreshing. With the first rays of sunlight finally breaking through the stretch of gray, I made my way towards the railing, adding little to the fantastic scenery with just a plaintive sigh. The many hay roofs of Ponyville's thatched houses were laid out before me, with certain colorful oddities such as Sugarcube Corner and Carousel Boutique standing out from among the crowd of straw, all of which were converging upon the iconic Ponyville Town Hall. Beyond that, down a dirt road, was Twilight's castle, a place that I once called home. Perhaps I might never be welcome there again when all is said and done. I, for one, certainly wouldn't want that, though sadly, this is how things are. This is how it's supposed to be.

It was meant to be like this, wasn't it?

"Not planning anything sinister up here, I hope."

I turned at that familiar voice, smiling when I saw who it was. "Not at all, Melody," I responded in turn.

It was rare to see Melody Mandegloire looking so laid back like this, flicking her pack of cigarettes back into the pocket of her ruffled suit before lighting the one already in her mouth. The scent of burnt tobacco that she exhaled mixed with the earthy smell of the rain, making me wrinkle my snout when she trotted up to my side as she was graced with the humble landscape before her. For a moment, neither of us spoke, with some part of me wondering what she was doing here in the first place when she's usually cooped up in the makeshift study Thunderlane had prepared for her, making plans and devising tactics to help clear my name. Instead of querying, however, I just let the strolling hands of time wander in its own pace, knowing she would indulge me eventually.

"It's a nice town."

"Yeah," I mumbled wistfully. "Twilight told me about it: how it's not too busy until it becomes a little overbearing, but with enough going-ons around to keep a pony interested."

"Hard to argue with that," Melody chuckled. "So, any luck with visiting the princess today?"

I shot a stare at the snide tone of her voice. "How did you—"

"It's my priority that anything that happens and will happen to my client must get by me first," she explained, frowning. "Shining Armor told me about your resignation letter."

"He did, huh?"

"You don't seem all that surprised."

"It's bound to happen eventually."

"With the drastic decisions you're making, of course it's bound to happen."

"It's something I decided to do to keep Twilight safe," I retorted, voice hardening. "Look, I appreciate you wanting to give me advice, Melody, I really do, but this isn't about what I want. This is about making sure none of this ever happens to her ever again. This is about making sure that Equestria doesn't lose the Princess of Friendship. What I want isn't imperative to that."

Melody, of course, wasn't easily convinced by that. "Tell me then, what does she want?" she questioned. "You've never asked yourself that question, didn't you?"

I could only glance away.

"Wait a minute... no, you did," she corrected herself, crossing her hooves with a sneer. "You did wonder whether Twilight would want this, though along the way, you didn't think it was important anymore. You didn't think that the opinion of the very mare you were trying to protect was worth noting. What she thought of it didn't matter, even though in the end, it all concerns her. Talk about hypocrisy."

"You don't understand—"

"Oh, I fucking understand what this whole fiasco is about, Flash Sentry."

A cold shiver ran up my back when she said that, unwilling to let itself go unnoticed in the presence of the attorney's keen eyes. The gentle breeze that picked up didn't do much to help my trembling spirit, which resorted to cowering in fear when Melody's red mane began to billow in the wind, the mare pausing to take a puff of her cigarette, all the while flashing a dark, brooding smile. That, coupled with the resentful gleam in her crimson eyes, made her look like a banshee. In retrospect, that would a fitting term to describe Melody Mandegloire: a blood-maned banshee, ready to swoop down for the kill when she has the chance.

"You think it'll be over once you're out of the picture?" she rasped. "What makes you think that there wouldn't be some other rich pony out there who would think of doing the same thing?"

"This whole thing started because I was with Twilight," I countered. "If she didn't have me by her side, none of this would have happened. Mr. Atelier wouldn't have planned something like this."

"So what, you think that leaving her was the best option you could think of? You think, what, that Twilight isn't capable of looking for another stallion that would take care of her like you did? When that stallion comes by, she falls in love and she gets hurt again, what would you have to say for yourself, Flash Sentry? What would you have to say for yourself as the pony who ran away?"

I couldn't muster up the spirit I needed to reply. With a scoff and a shake of her head, Melody crushed the bud of the cigarette with her hoof, letting out a tobacco-laced sigh. The thick silence was foreboding, so much so that the pressing question as to why she was being concerned over this decision I was making was held back. When she drew her gaze back to me again, however, there was nothing left of the spite simmering in her pupils; all of it was replaced with a sobriety bordering into the province of an apology.

"Believe me, you don't want this," she muttered. "This will never end well, no matter what you think."

"How would you know that?" I rasped.

"Because I've been in that position before, Flash Sentry!" she snapped, clenching her hooves. "I had to decide whether to stay or leave the side of a pony I loved and I chose the latter. I did what you're doing right now, Flash. He and I parted on amicable terms, we went our separate ways and for a while, I thought we were both safe. I thought it was finally over. Guess what happened in the end?"

A chilling gust of wind blew across my neck as I shook my head.

"Two months later, I was at his funeral. Somepony came up from behind him and took a clean swipe at his throat."

In a manner of disgust, Melody quickly fumbled to pull out another cigarette, all the while with her hooves shivering violently. I watched, biting my lip as she sporadically tried to ignite her lighter, the sparks flying with every flick she was giving almost as if protesting her harsh actions. She was desperately clinging onto the final threads of her comfort, yearning for the accursed embrace of nicotine like a lost foal calling out for their mother. In a world of noise such as this one, however, it isn't surprising for such a meek voice like that from a child to be smothered and thrown aside.

"It's something that comes with a position such as mine. When you've felled enough moguls from their thrones, you'll come to make some really powerful enemies. It just so happened that the enemies I made were bloody fucking psychopaths. If it weren't for me running away, he would've... he would've still be alive right now, you know that? If... if I hadn't ran away..."

The sparks finally burst into a flame, if only for a moment.

"GAH!!" Melody shrieked, dropping both lighter and cigarette with a hiss of pain. "Fucking hell..."

"You okay, Melody?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm..." she scowled, shaking her singed hoof. "I probably deserved that, since I shouldn't be doing this anyway."

"Doing what?"

"Telling you how to live your life. It's not what you've signed up for."

I would want to argue that what she had been technically doing in these last several months was exactly that, though the last thing we both want was her throwing another fit. However, I was grateful for all she had done for me, beginning with her hauling me out from the panic attack I had in the elevator. It may have been her job, but I appreciated the fact that she helped me even when the rest of Equestria was ready to cast me into Tartarus. That being said, there are some decisions — hard decisions — that I have to make even if she would say otherwise. What I wanted was some peace and quiet with Twilight by my side; what I was offered required me to give up on one or the other. How I reached the verdict was simple.

If I could, I don't want to lose her again.

Even if it means leaving her for good.

"I don't want you to go through what I went through," she said firmly, picking her lighter from the ground and smoothing out her suit. "You could say that this is how I'm coping with my loss and you'll be right, it is. Still, I thought just maybe I could change your mind, even though I knew it's impossible when Pierce and even your own father couldn't do the same. I don't want you to lose Twilight, and I'm not talking about her being the princess or anything. I'm talking about her being the mare that you love. Seriously, there must be another way."

"There might be," I replied, pitching up a sullen smile. "If I thought long and hard about it, I could probably come up with one. With how things are going now, however, I don't think there really is much of a choice. Twilight isn't safe around me, even if she might say so otherwise. They wanted me out of the picture, yet look what that did to her."

"You can't blame yourself."

"I was supposed to protect her," my voice hardened. "That's my job. That's my only job and I failed just that."

"Anyone would've easily failed, but I know for a fact that you didn't," she asserted. "No one except the perpetrators knew that this would happen. No one would imagine that a pony would go so far as to mix some drugs in the wine, pour gasoline around the room and hallways, cut some holes into the gas pipes and blow the entire hotel up just to bring you down. Even through all that, Princess Twilight emerged alive. That didn't sound like a failure, at least not to me."

With the words sinking in, I didn't know how to reply.

"You've protected the princess, Flash Sentry. That's all it was," came the cherry on top. "As for why I'm really here, just letting you know that we've finally landed an interview with the Equestrian national radio tomorrow. It's going to be the first time that anyone would be actually hearing about some of the later details in the case, especially the one about Twilight's miscarriage and your resignation from the position of her royal bodyguard. This interview would change everything, however it might go. What you say and how you say it will determine what Equestria might think about you."

"No pressure," I quipped.

"None at all," Melody replied, cracking a smile. "You think you can handle it? Though I would advise against it, there's no shame in backing out, you know?"

I firmly nodded my head.

"That's the spirit. Be careful when heading home, got that?"

Melody Mandegloire was a strange mare. Before any of you ask, no, I wasn't referring to her albinism. It's just that the stories I heard about her — the brutal ones about how she could easily break you down with just the volume of her voice — made me envision her as a mare who would bring you to the edge of your life when in reality, she was just another mare with her own set of insecurities and problems, albeit one ready to set those aside to help those in need. It would be fitting then, for her to bear a name such as Mandegloire, which — fun fact I learned from Pierce — actually translates to mandrake, a plant once mistakenly believed to let out a blood-curdling scream that kills all who had the misfortune of hearing it, but in reality, it was a coveted medicinal plant used to relieve any forms of bodily pain. Much like how Twilight was just a quirky bookworm at heart, Melody was a sympathetic attorney who will do her best to see that justice is done. They were, in the end, ponies; nothing less, nothing more.

Perhaps what made her strange wasn't, well, her; it was more of the impression that the everyday pony has of her. Take me, for instance: for a while, I was once the most hated pony in Equestria. I was a murderer, a disgrace and a failure, among the other distasteful things that the Equestrian media had called me, though you and I know that I'm more than that. In all that had happened, I had been the royal bodyguard; I had been the colt who yearned for balance and a sense of good judgement, all the while desperately trying to escape the clutches of my father's shadow; I had been the stallion who was once courting Princess Twilight and, for a fleeting moment of three months, was the father to her lost child. Perhaps back then, at a time when I was but a palace guard in the Crystal Empire, if I looked hard enough into the multiple facets of the crystal pillars in the corridors, I could see all these different sides of me shining brilliantly from the future. Perhaps, if I had only looked hard enough, I would've known what it would be like, but alas, this is the way things are. Now, with my resignation letter, I'll become just another stallion, ready to resume his daily life even as he uncertainly looks onward into the future.

A future where Twilight Sparkle no longer stands by his side.

This is the way things were meant to be.

---

I once fancied the idea of loneliness.

I had used a myriad of different words to describe it back then: solitude, seclusion, privacy, serenity, tranquility; all words taken from a different lexicon. In one way or another, I would yearn for a little moment of silence, all to unwrap and let the chaotic noises of the world sink in; to comprehend the distorted melodies and crooked harmonies that plague my everyday life. It was a mistake on my part to believe them to be nonsensical when really, I just couldn't see the pattern. Twilight was the one who helped me connect the last of the dots, though all of that was lost after that fateful night in Canterlot. Now she's just like me, devoid of the light she once shared between us, hopelessly confused, wracked with pain and emotion as she seeks for her own moment of peace. Now, she's just like me, stuck in a belief that the world around her was dissonant, erratic and writhing in grated hymns, to which all she knew was to respond in turn.

"Get out. Get the fuck out."

Since I was born, I never understood why the common pony would not want to escape the dreadful, almost lawless noises of everyday life— not to say that I have that exact idea in my head as a foal, but the concept of it was there. You could imagine my confusion then when I learned about what kind of a pony Twilight Sparkle was before she ascended into princesshood, which effectively thrust her from the shadows and into the public spotlight. I wonder and wonder then, as a pony who had been raised in near-isolation with only a few friends to call my own, what purpose is there to have your voice heard above the furor of the crowd. It was only while toiling through these months that I began asking a different question.

Which would be more insufferable: to have your voice drowned out when given the chance to speak, or to never have that chance to speak at all?

"Where have I gone wrong?! Tell me, Flash, what did I do wrong?!"

It was that question which I contemplated about on my way to Twilight's castle. It would be my last visit into the crystalline abode, mainly just to grab the last of my possessions but also to have a trip down memory lane, which all began with the parting of the golden doors. I looked up into the faceted ceiling, my breath thinning at the extravagance and grandeur of this place despite having lived here for so long. All the rooms and the maze of corridors that connect them, all of it belonging to one pony... one might find it a little intimidating, don't you think? To have a space on such a grand scale... the loneliness would be unbearable, if not agonizing.

"I can't... I can't think straight anymore... I was lonely. I felt lonely."

I'll be the one to resign her back to that fate, all for the sake of her life.

I'm just trying to protect you.

"Then who would protect you?"

Some questions were better left unanswered.

As I made my way to the guest room, the sounds of ruffling stopped me in my tracks. Perking up my ears, I turned a corner and held my breath when I saw a slit of light shining from down the hallway, coming from the library door left ajar. Creeping closer, I tensed up suddenly when a gangling shadow skittered past the tight niche, followed by a muted growl. The ruffling of books were louder now, with some part of me wishing it wasn't some wild animal inside making a large mess. When I mustered up enough courage to step in, however, I was met with a sight that I had not expect to see; from the look of surprise on his face, he wasn't expecting me as well.

"Flash Sentry, right?" he asked, raising an eye.

"And you must be... um... what did Twilight say your name was again..."

In the end, I could only sigh in humiliated defeat; to that, he sported a fanged grin.

"The name's Spike," he answered, placing the duster he was choking underneath his paws aside. "Spike the dragon."

I have to say it: he looked much more different than I expected. It wouldn't be surprising if I gave it a second thought; he had left in the last dragon migration, which was almost two to three years before I arrived in Ponyville. All I knew of him were the photos that Twilight showed me and the stories she told about him, as well as the fact that he left in search of some sort of draconic enlightenment. Having been gone for so long, he was no longer the whelp that I had envisaged him to be; he was now almost twice my size, was walking on all four of his feet and had donned a pair of large wings. His fangs, horns and claws had grown out, making him much more fierce and intimidating than he used to be. He also possessed a keen eye, as he immediately laughed out loud when he noticed the slight tremble in my hooves.

"I won't bite, in case Twilight failed to mention that."

"Oh, no, it's just..." I managed to gasp. "Well, I didn't expect you would be here, that's all."

"Yeah, thought I'd pay Twilight a surprise visit, so I didn't want to spoil it," he chortled. "Sorry if I scared you. Was here just to drop off some of my things and clean this place up a little. You know, let some air into all of the rooms, clear out all the dust, make it more like the home she remembers when she comes back, though I'm sure she wouldn't approve of the spiders I found at the back of the shelves. So, how's she doing these days?"

I clenched onto a tight-lipped smile. "She's doing well. Doctors said that she'll be discharged in two or three months at least."

"That's good to hear."

"You heard about what happened to her, right?"

"Yeah, about a month late. News traveled slowly from where we were." Spike gave a morose sigh, his eyes wistfully traveling across the room. "I wanted to come back then, I really did," he rumbled. "I thought of dropping everything and just coming back here to take care of her, but you know how she's like, right? Twilight being Twilight. I knew she would just outright blame herself for if I did. She's been through much more than what most ponies would go through in a single lifetime; the last thing I want is for her to beat herself up any further."

"So any chance you'll be moving back in?"

"Unfortunately, no," he admitted, smiling solemnly at my crestfallen expression. "I managed to stop by, if only because the dragons finally settled down for a rest at a mountain range not too far from town. We'll be staying here for a week, but we'll be flying back into dragon territory after that. At best, it'll be another year or so before I can finally be back."

"Oh... I see..."

"Yeah..." the dragon managed a sheepish chuckle. "H-Hey, no offense or anything, but you're much different than I expected."

Nostalgia pinched me on the cheek when I heard that.

"You'e just not... him. Not the Flash Sentry that I know."

"So I've been told," I replied in turn with a knowing smile. "What's he really like? The other Flash Sentry? I mean, I've heard a couple of things about him from Twilight, but other than how I look like him and something about a guitar and everything, not much else."

"To put it best, I would say he's the opposite of you."

"And what would I be?"

The dragon presented his trademark smirk.

"Interesting."

I guffawed at the answer he gave me. This must be the blunt, sarcastic and witty side of Spike that I've heard so much about from Twilight and her friends, the one side of him that had been likened to me. Unlike me, however, he had a slight bit of charm and flair to go with it, fulfilling his existence as the full package of chivalry, charisma, cunning and compassion, with an extra side of allure in his admittedly good looks. Twilight was lucky to have him by her side, be it to wear her down in laughter with his remarks or even to provide a shoulder to cry on. It was a job that, at this moment, only Spike the dragon could do.

"Seriously!" said dragon retorted. "The other Flash was... well, I could see why Twilight liked him, but I don't see why he deserves Twilight, you know?"

"You really don't let off easy, don't you?"

"Hey, someone has to be the sensible one around town."

"Wasn't that supposed to be Twilight's job?"

"Eh... she can be a bit unrealistic about it sometimes," he said. "You know what I'm talking about, right? Considering that you've been with her and everything."

I was surprised that my lackluster smile could withstand the growing apprehension in me, especially when our conversation waned into silence, leaving Spike to resume his cleaning while I pondered on about what little discrepancies Twilight may have in her perception of reality. I would admit that some of the decisions she had made in the past were a little on the extreme side, but save for that one instance — you might know which one — she has the best interests of everyone involved in mind. I can't chastise a pony for breaching through the fabric of reality all for the goodwill of her fellow ponies, can't I?

All those decisions she made weren't about her.

One might say that I now strive to emulate her example.

"So... you're really leaving her, huh?"

My eyes widened in surprise. "You knew?" I asked.

"Well, the moving boxes in your room and the interview you had told me as much," Spike chuckled. "That, and Shining Armor wasn't really holding back when he ranted about it in his last letter."

"I kinda guessed he wouldn't take it well, as usual."

"You know how protective he can be of Twilight. Hell, even I was angry at you when I read about what happened." A sheepish, almost apologetic laugh came from the dragon while he started placing the books back into their proper places. "I couldn't believe it. You, the pony that Twilight loved, the one supposed to protect her..." he murmured. "She told me so much about you, about how important you were to her, yet there I was, reading the headlines, not knowing what to believe. I thought it was something about that argument you two had, but to do all that? Then I thought it started to make sense when Shining mentioned about the foal she was carrying, but when I heard the interview they had with you yesterday—"

"I meant every word of it."

"I know," he replied, smiling. "I guess I've known it all along, but to hear it from you, that conviction in your voice... you could say that it's what many of us needed to hear, you know? I'm sure the things you said in that interview, the promises you said you'd keep and everything... perhaps she might understand why you did what you did."

"I don't even know if she listened to it," I sighed. "Or if she even wanted to..."

"She did, I'm sure of it. If she still felt the same way about you, she wouldn't miss it for the world."

Which would be more insufferable: to have your voice drowned out when given the chance to speak, or to never have that chance to speak at all?

I never really understood the importance of that question up until now, mostly because I thought that neither would ever outweigh the other. After all, what's the importance of speaking if there was no one who would listen to you? It was a philosophy I stubbornly clutched onto even to this day; there are just some things in a pony that could not be changed. However, though one's innate beliefs could never be uprooted, it's a different story when it comes to one's perspectives. It was this conversation with Spike the dragon, held in the library of Twilight's castle, that unveiled a new perspective upon the question that I had been pondering on and, in turn, revealed the answer that I had been desperately searching for.

Which would be more insufferable: to lose your chance to be heard, or to never have that chance at all?

A scaly paw gingerly rested on my shoulder, jolting me out of my thoughts as I turn to face the dragon's slightly frightening yet somewhat endearing grin. "So this is how it is," he continued. "Saying all that, about what you'd do, what you would've done and yet here we are. It's not in my position to stop you from leaving, of course. It's your choice whether you want to leave or stay, no matter what the rest of us think. We can't make you stay if you don't want to. Despite all that, I want you to do me a favor, Flash Sentry."

An uncertain nod.

"When all of this is over," the dragon said in a softer, more amorous tone. "Promise me that you'll at least consider returning to her side."

I remembered sifting through the confines of my mind for an answer, only to realize that there was no need to do that. There were some things in this world that a pony would be better off without the many voices of judgement in his head, especially if said pony's sense of judgement wasn't the greatest in the first place. With a heartening grin, I listened to a different kind of tune, one emanating in a rhapsodical warmth from my chest as it reawakened feelings of the past that had rested long and nestled deep, bringing a new light of confidence into my eyes.

"I promise."

---

One last night.

It was hard to put it all into perspective, especially since this town was and had been my second home for the past year or so. One would say it was surreal, as if it had only been yesterday that I had sullenly stepped off the train and onto the platform of the station where a certain princess eagerly awaited my arrival. So much had happened since then, hasn't it? To be frank, it's frightening to me, how fast all of this was going. If I could, I would make sure that my time in Ponyville would never, ever, ever be seen to the end. In the words of a certain mare, it's a nice town, after all; not too overbearingly busy, but it has enough daily going-ons to keep a pony interested.

One last night in Ponyville.

I spent most of that night wondering what I should do to make the most out of that night, which was really just a waste of time in retrospect. I couldn't blame myself, seeing as my mind had been preoccupied with other thoughts, many of which concerns about the days ahead of me, having rescinded my position as the personal bodyguard to Princess Twilight. As I laid there in bed, thinking of all that had come to past and what might soon come to be, a soft knock at the door halted my drifting thoughts as Thunderlane poked his head in, looking a little more elated than usual.

"Hey, Flash? Can you come downstairs for a bit?"

At the time, I didn't think much of it as much as I wondered about the lively chatter that was happening downstairs or why my friend looked as if he was about to explode into a myriad of streamers while he giddily lead me on. It was only when I heard a set of familiar voices that I realized that we had company. My look of surprise accompanied the sudden drop of silence as I saw my father, Melody and Pierce around the table, the latter pony raising his glass of fizzing champagne with that gleeful, lopsided grin of his etched across his face.

"Here comes the star of the show," he declared, earning chuckles from the others. "Seriously, I thought it would take a century before you would ever show up!"

"What's this all about?"

"We're celebrating the fact that you didn't lose your head, of course! It's about Celestia-damned time we reward ourselves with all our hard work trying to get your ass out of the frying pan, don't you think?"

"Yeah, well, considering that most of us were actually done with our respective jobs," Melody stopped to give my friend a mischievous smirk, to which he rolled his eyes at while the rest of us snickered. "You wanna join in? We were just about to have a toast."

I must admit, with the selfish exception of letting loose with Twilight, I wasn't really fond of drinking in particular. It was one of the few personality traits I shared with my mother, who viewed drinking as a pastime indulged only by the desperate. Still, there were times where she indulged in a fair amount of it from time to time, as do I. Plus, the offer of celebrating does seem more of a blessing that I didn't know I needed. With nothing else better to do, I sauntered over and poured myself a glass, before the five of us raised them up in unison and meeting with a resounding clink.

"Cheers!!"

The fizzing in my throat was enough to make me squirm; Pierce's selection of alcohol tend to lean on the stronger labels. When the sensation died down and I could finally open my eyes, I found myself smiling at the sight of the company I'm surrounded with. All these ponies, all different in their mannerisms and ideals, yet here they are, having came together to help yours truly. Seeing as this was the best time for it, I grasped at the opportunity, standing up amid their idle chatter and earning their attention as I put on the best smile I could ever give.

"I just want to take the time to say a few things," my speech began as such. "Throughout these past few months, I had toiled through some of the most challenging moments of my entire life thus far. Granted, some of them were the cause of my undoing, but most of it were not of my own volition. For a while, I thought I was alone. I couldn't trust anyone around me, I couldn't believe all the words of encouragement given to me. I didn't think that there was anyone that was sincerely and genuinely on my side."

The last remnants of my pride swirled down the drain.

"I was wrong. There were you guys," I said, smiling. "You guys... you guys have done so much for me, even when you really didn't need to, even when I treated you like I didn't need you. Truth is, I just wanted to apologize to you guys for how I've been, for any wrongs that I might've done that offended you, and I also wanted to thank you guys for... for everything else, really. Until now, I never had that chance, but since you guys were all here, I thought... well... it'll be a good time to say it."

I raised my glass one last time.

"Thank you. All of you, for everything."

"Thought I might never live to see the day you finally say that."

"Well, isn't somepony feeling a little entitled!" Melody rasped playfully, even as Pierce roared with laughter. "Did your wife ever tell you how big of an ass you can be?"

"Occasionally," he admitted smugly with a tip of his glass. "I'm not one to mince words anyway. I am to working on my cases as you are in the courtroom, Mel."

"Hold on, mister, I don't talk like that!"

"Like what? The entitled judge who has enough bravado to strut in with her head held high and a verbal arsenal at the ready with the knowledge that no one in the courtroom would dare chastise her for it?"

"Now listen here, Pierce Swiftwind, you're making very, very baseless accusations right here—"

Ah, the wonders of alcohol. To see two usually composed and level-headed ponies going out at each other, throwing verbal insults and limp flails across the room, was a scene to behold. Even my father was chuckling deeply at their petty argument. I joined in as well, even though it could never hold a candle to Twilight Sparkle in her drunk and glamorous splendor, but it was entertaining all the same. Still, at this late hour, it's a wonder that none of the neighbors came over to knock the door down and demand our silence. Is such a rowdy scenario expected in a town as tranquil as Ponyville? Seeing how close it was in the vicinity of the Everfree Forest, plus with most of Equestria's creatures' natural instinct to make a pit stop here, it shouldn't be that surprising.

*DING DONG*

Speak of the Tartarian three-headed guard dog.

"I'll get it," I groaned, striding towards the door, shaking my head as I watched the two drunk friends of mine rolling off the couch, sprawled out on the floor and wrangling each other's throats. Seeing as we were bound to get a complaint eventually, I simply sighed and reached for the knob, turning it and ready to face whatever pony is there to shout the living daylights into me even as I try to explain how we didn't expect our little celebration to go this awry. He or she might probably get the authorities over and we'd have to spend the rest of the night trying to negotiate that it wasn't suppose to turn out this way. At worst, we might get a stern warning, but that's about it.

That was how it's supposed to be.

"F-Flash...?" came a quiet whisper.

That was how it's meant to be.

"You..." my voice quivered. "Why... you... what are you—"

A sudden whiz broke through the night air. I reflexively shut my eyes as I was suddenly clouded by a spray into my face, only to pale when I saw the plentiful flecks of red that coated my cheeks and snout. The figure's gaze onto me wavered down to the growing stain of maroon in his trench coat, a deep, pained groan gurgling from his throat with every spurt of blood from his punctured chest as he collapsed onto the floor. Before I could react, another whiz shot past my ears, sending splinters behind me flying across the hallway. I immediately ducked down when a second, third and fourth followed, screeching through the air above me and hailing onto the wooden walls with loud cracks.

"GET DOWN!!"

The breaking of glass jolted my head to the living room, where I saw Thunderlane and my father bracing behind the couch, the fabric shredding in wave after wave of bullets, sending all the cotton nestled within flying around in a show of confetti. At the side, Pierce was desperately dragging Melody away, the color draining from my cheeks when I saw the bloody trail snaking closely behind her, misting in the presence of champagne spilling from the broken bottles and glasses. The windows shattered, the wooden walls around me snapped and shuddered, the shrieking seemingly getting louder and louder and louder. All I could do was look at the other pony, prone in a puddle of blood before me, as I desperately called out to him:

"MR. ATELIER!!"

Suddenly, the hellish sounds died down.

The hell tearing through the house halted.

A void of silence filled the air. For a moment, no one moved. None of us dared to, lest we incur another assault in the household. When the coast finally seemed clear, I watched, trembling and frozen in place as my father galloped past me and dragged the bleeding Mr. Atelier in, slamming the front door shut.

"Don't just stand there, for Faust's sake!" he yelled at me. "Help me carry him!"

Immediately, I lifted his hoof and wrapped it around my shoulders, lifting the injured stallion up alongside my father as we sauntered into the living room. Upon seeing us, Thunderlane quickly brushed the table free of soaked cotton and glass shards, before helping us carefully lay Mr. Atelier onto the wooden surface. On the couch, I could see Melody squeaking and hissing, gripping tightly onto her rear hoof, stained a dark crimson with blood spewing from the ruptured hole in her flesh. From the kitchen came sounds of shuffling and ruffling, before Pierce's voice broke through the corridor.

"For fuck's sake, where's the first aid kit?!!"

As Thunderlane rushed to my friend's side, a pained groan yanked my glance back. "Tabard, stay with me now," my father gasped, clutching tightly onto Mr. Atelier's shivering hoof. "Tabard, come on, don't do this—"

"I... I'm sorry..."

"You can fucking apologize for all that later, just don't you dare give up on me, Tabard!"

"F-Flash... Flash..."

I joined in alongside my father's hoof, clutching onto it for dear life. My breath squirmed in my throat when I saw the unmistakable shimmer of tears in his eyes, one of them slowly trickling out and down his cheek. With feverish gasps, he stared right into my eyes, his pupils swirling in a vain attempt to wrest free from the tendrils of the abyss, his mouth shaking fervently in a desperate attempt to speak. At the very last moment, he clutched onto the last of his strength and breathed a deep breath, his chest cresting at a never-before high, before gently taking the plunge for one last time.

One last night.

I was haunted by the mere recollection of that expression frozen on his face as he laid still on the table in a dripping pool of red; it was one of fear and terror, twisted in the throes of guilt and shame. It would leave another mark in my mind, another scratch in the back of my head. More so, I was haunted by the gentle whisper he graced me before departing into the darkness of the night, a chance to hear his final plea. It was an echo rumbling softly in the ocean, creating the tides of change rippling across my mind. It was the last word Mr. Atelier uttered in his dying breath, forever entrenched in my head. It was the last thing he could do to change what he knew needed to be changed; a last ditch attempt to salvage what he had lost with only one last word as a guide.

"... f-forgive..."

Author's Note:

Whoops! Published the unfinished file by accident!

Anyways, finally great to see this chapter out! I had been rewriting it over and over as I didn't find it satisfying of a read. Hopefully won't have as much trouble with the next one!

Comments

[WritingSpirit]

7160778

Lost your comment 'cause I had to pull back the chapter after I found out that I uploaded the wrong, unfinished document.

Yeah, I'll probably write out the timeline of all that happened, though I'm considering on whether to integrate it at the very last chapter or just separate it entirely.

[StormyVenture]

7227328
I'm in favor of something separate, it would just be nice to get my head around the whole thing. I'd rather have the story in linear order myself, but since flashbacks (ha ha ha...) seem to be a central delivery vehicle that would be unreasonable.