My Guiding Light

by Infinite Affection

Alone in the Darkness

Author's Note:

Please do use the links to the background music I provided if you can. It'll set the mood quite well or it'll just make you cry. Either way, enjoy!

Alone as usual. It guided those in need.

Stagnant on the cloudside, it remained ever watchful; its full height piercing the endless dark shroud.

Chisel…chisel…

A humble fluffy white structure, it looked deceptively naïve.

Chisel…chisel…

Standing firm against the wild wind, it proved not so meek.

Chisel…chisel…

Through any tempest or gale, it continued to do its duty. Guiding those in need.

Casting its luminous musk across the night sky, it surveyed. Gliding its light through the never ending reaches of the darkness, it aided stranded pegasi who had lost their way.

There on the lonesome cloud stood Loyal Light.

Chisel…chisel…crack!

The moonlight enveloped the night sky this evening; the once stoical and heart-breaking pattern of the princess of the night sketched into its face, now long absent. Of course, the return of the princess had brought the land much joy and the moon shone brighter than ever now but he had to admit that he rather missed the similar sentiment it etched across the sky.

Zooming out, the stars came into view; their abundance making up for what they lacked in sheen. Not as bold the moon, he appreciated the subtle efforts they made to fight out against the dark.

Further out still came the sight of the sleepy town of Ponyville resting in the valley below. It was still late evening and there was still some activity that he could see. From his view, it looked like a nest of fireflies swarming around the flowing river.

One more time and…there! The outline of a cliff painted itself into the scene, curving at its end to give a modest vigil over the still settlement. Perched on its crest was an immovable log – he had tried before to move it to a better location – where the green pegasus lay atop, constantly searching for new inspiration as his wing rummaged around in his backpack for another pencil.

Greenfly took his time. There was much to observe during the night and often he’d get lost in the beauty of it all and forget what he had actually come out here to do; draw! The drawing he was working on in particular didn’t call for hurry. It was rather something the pegasus needn’t draw but felt like he had to occasionally.

The chilly wind brushed past the pegasus, letting his orange hair down to obstruct his view of his idea bank. Bringing up a hoof, he pressed it under his fringe and slid it up in order to return his mane to its regular bushy appearance and out of his line of sight. He then felt his wing twitch and remembered what his left wing had been doing the entire time.

A spare pencil followed within its grasp and soon found its way into Greenfly’s right hoof, ready to begin again. He paused however; beginning to feel a little dissatisfied with the change in comfort he was feeling atop the coarse log. He shuffled around for a better spot.

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You might think why a pegasus would sit on a log or even the ground when they could just as easily sit on a much softer cloud. Greenfly however liked it that way. Ever since he moved to Ponyville, he really had embraced the earth pony way of life and took to nice walks especially at night than to flying everywhere.

Occasionally if he desired a better perspective, he would fly up to the nearest cloud and sketch from there – if it was worth it. Otherwise, the creative pegasus normally wished to stay grounded; ever since it happened.

Much like the feel of the log, the drawing was only a rough one. Having drawn it many times before, the artist skimmed over the here’s and there’s he usually added to his more unique sketches. But it didn’t diminish what it felt to him.

It allowed Greenfly to remember them…and her.

It had been a long while since the green pegasus had ever gone home for a visit; he knew he was being missed. Since he left, Greenfly never did check to see who or if anyone was checking up on the old girl. Then again she was always able to take care of herself.

She always beamed at the sight of him; a trait he had admired all the way from when he was a colt. She’d never cease to be there for him when he needed her the most. And there was many a time that the little green colt came to her for solace.

She never even wore a frown when he had let her down; she simply waited patiently for him to make it up to her. Of course, half the time she’d never actually let him.

As a matter of fact, she was about as stubborn as those apple farmers Greenfly had noticed around town. The old girl was practically self-sufficient; never asking for help whether she needed it or not. Funny thing was she’d always see it through to the end…and succeed. Sure he gave her a helping hand regardless from time to time but although appreciated it was never necessary.

But it was still appreciated. That was the main thing.

The pegasus tensed up as his eyesight became fuzzy and quickly went on to adding more textures to his sketch. Compared with his other versions, the drawing had too few special features to be classed as a “rough” sketch by his standards. He proceeded to give it some small touches.

---

An hour later and the artist could still be seen working on his rough sketch...which he was now adding colour to. A mass of concentration was clear on his face as he rigorously continued adding character to the piece bit by bit never ever tearing away, save for grabbing the next colour in his mind.

One could say he was definitely devoted to giving even a “rough” sketch the best of everything but in Greenfly’s mind the fact that he was still drawing hadn’t occurred to him.

In his head, there was merely an image and that was all. That’s all there needed to be.

Had Greenfly been conscious of his autonomous illustrating, he would have known that the mountain of focus being drilled onto his face was his attempts to hold back the ever increasing reservoir of water accumulating behind his eyeballs.

His hoof and pencil trembled as continued pressure was forced down onto the innocent paper; the maximum opacity being implemented on the image. He also hadn’t noticed the amount of colouring pencils he kept replacing.

Perhaps he chose not to.

Deep in a really back part of the desolate pegasus’s mind, an inevitable truth was fighting to break the ruse Greenfly was so determined to continue creating.

It grew in strength as the close to tears artist realised this not so dormant part of his mind. The pegasus trembled violently, a stutter escaping his lips.

And then his mind went blank.

And Greenfly let out a quivering sigh.

A lone tear managed to escape as the pegasus settled down, having finished his envisioned image. It blemished the dark indigo shade of the night sky out of range of the yellow streak slipping across the image. It was not enough to smudge it thankfully.

Greenfly sniffled slightly as he studied his creation. He turned happy upon seeing the image before him instead of in his recovering mind. A smile projected across his lower face at his portrayal of his cherished memory.

His senses returning back to him, the artist couldn’t help but feel astonished at how entranced he had been in completing what was only supposed to be a “rough” sketch. But then why should it have been just a sketch?

This memory deserved appreciation and effort. So why had he just drawn a lazy sketch countless times before?

Greenfly sat there a while, deep in contemplation.

He looked up to the white orb hovering above him. He never was quite sure how to explain it but the moon normally made him surer of things and erased any bad thoughts that haunted him.

He strangely felt warmer around it too; a feeling he could experience quite well tonight as the icy wind only picked up in strength as the night went on. It almost seemed like home to him.

At times like these, Greenfly would often ponder what it must have been like for Princess Luna to be there on that rock as he himself couldn’t shake the feeling he belonged with it. The reason why was in turn the reason why he spent so many nights just examining the celestial being – each night hoping something might be that little bit different so as to give the pegasus a hint or two.

Alas, he just couldn’t understand. He knew deep in his heart though that one day things would become clear; perhaps when he was able to share that horrible truth with her. For now though, he simply had to wait.

And as an artist, patience was everything. Greenfly had learned that harsh lesson more than a few times when he had been a little too enthusiastic about his drawings. This occasional complacence led to some silly mistakes as the pegasus became overconfident in his abilities.

Creating a profession out of it had been even harder and not a day went by that Greenfly didn’t receive some form of criticism for his latest work or commissions requested by the ponies of Ponyville. One client had even been so disgusted with his work, they never even set hoof near the place again.

But as an artist, he was used to it – especially when the majority of feedback for his art was positive.

He’d never forget that nightmare night where he picked up one of his most noteworthy supporters. It had been her first visit to the town after all and Greenfly had been exceptionally lucky that she chose to take a gander at his art – even if her voice boomed as if out of nowhere while he was actively sketching fillies and colts in their costumes.

“Haha! Thou hast the most exquisite depictions of my glorious night! Might we ask you for a request?”

The royal Canterlot voice had caught him completely off guard and all the green pegasus could do was nod silently while his mind still adjusted to the princess’s kind compliments. She had quietened down after that and apologised for it being a force of habit.

Greenfly on the other hand was ecstatic that the very own princess of the inspirational night had paid him a compliment – not that he was really one for showing emotion…despite his difficulty earlier, he remembered jovially. Rather he was much better at evoking his feelings through his art than openly presenting them.

Nightmare night was one night full of antics and mixed reactions and one of the few which revelled in the themes of the beautiful yet scary night. It was his favourite night on which to draw as most other nights at this time the ponies would be tucked in their hovels and as much as Greenfly liked the tranquillity of his evenings he sometimes relished the opportunity to create something a bit more lively than his usual still-life.

It also meant that the artist could see the sheer thrill on everypony’s face and...most importantly her.

He couldn’t recall a nightmare night where she didn’t look like she was having the time of her life.

No worries and no concerns. Just how Greenfly wanted it.

She was happy. She had friends; friends who Greenfly often wondered were a bad influence on her.

Yet she had no clue how much the green pegasus felt about her. Greenfly sighed deeply.

Maybe if I did tell her…would she even believe me? He hated himself for thinking this way but occasionally some part of him wished that she might feel empty inside, if only a little, that might persuade her to pose the question herself.

But it was wrong to think of such things and the pegasus’s wings tensed at the anger he felt with himself. As an artist, he would be patient.

For how long though could he resist?

For tonight anyway, he affirmed to himself; the chilly wind echoing the call of his warm bed to which his flustered mind was eager to accept.