The Devourer

by Dandelo

Ch. 3 - Barred Inside

Three days before the last sunset

Somepony walked on by the window with a lantern in their hooves. When Rarity woke up she could just barely see the window cross casting fleeing shadows in the corner of the room like scurrying ghost. Then the carrier of the lantern was gone, it was dark and empty again. The hissing noise of the rain was all-consuming. Her ears were full of the constant pounding, her heavy eyes murky with blackness; they had stopped sparkling the way they used to just a few days ago. But her mind was only thinking about what she had seen before she had woken up and plunged into this night.

Looking at the clock she could see that it was still very early in the morning. At least this time she had found a little bit more sleep than last night. There was a quiet creak when she got off the couch in the ground floor. Her neck was pulsing with a sharp pain that always came up when she turned her head just a little bit to the right. Even her temples were pulsing menacingly. Almost as if a huge black raven was behind her forehead, swinging his huge long wings. And trying to peck at her visual nerve, pecking at her eyes.

It was night. The rain fell.

She walked through the corridor, through two doors that were silently lying In their hinges when they were softly opened. She didn’t turn on the light. It was so silent that she was positive she could hear the quiet breaths of the ponies on the first floor. Rarity opened a cupboard with her magic and levitated a glass on top of the counter, followed by a crystal carafe full of lemonade. She filled the glass up.

Then she noticed the dark figure at her kitchen table.

“Why aren’t you asleep?” she asked the figure.

They didn’t answer immediately, at first taking a sip out of their cup. It smelled like tea. “Did you have one of your dreams again?” the figure asked.

She hesitated at first but eventually sighed. “Yes. They’re becoming weirder and weirder – and more real…”

“And it’s always the same?” The figure’s voice was throaty and rough, sounded old and dry, but still was unmistakably female.

“Almost… I always wake up in the same room… it looks like the foyer of the boutique but it’s not, not quite, everything is just a little bit off and crooked. I go outside and see the Princess on her podium… and I’m afraid… and I don’t know how it got that way but I’m afraid of her… and…” She shivered.

“And you’re afraid when you remember how real these dreams feel?”

“No, no… that would be ridiculous… they’re only dreams…”

The figure snorted. “Do you think it will ever stop?”

“Why don’t you tell me,” she answered after a moment. “Will it? Will it ever stop?”

“The sun will rise soon,” the figure said and stood up. “Then the shadows will come back and grow longer. You should go to sleep.”

“But I can’t sleep,” she answered irritated. She could feel the raven inside her head spread his wings.

“Then you will never wake up.”

With that, the figure vanished. Everything vanished.

A rumbling sound woke Rarity up from her dream.

~ ~ ~

She tiptoed upstairs and softly opened the door. A small magic fire was levitating next to her head, sometimes faintly, sometimes intensely glowing depending on how he she held it; a spell she had learned from Twilight. Right now she was holding it almost all the way down so it was only a small violet glimmer, just bright enough to see the room. It was still dark outside; she hadn’t looked at the clock though for good reason. She estimated it to be not more than two hours before sunrise.

She opened the door and peeked through the slit to see the source of the rumbling. The magic fire showed dim outlines in the darkness. Her bed, a blanket on top looking gray in the twilight, under it two ponies sleeping. On the floor: seven smaller beds that Rarity had made with blankets and fabrics from her boutique; the other ponies were sleeping in these. In the dark they looked like heaps of earth made by moles. She stood there for maybe three minutes, in her slippers and sleeping gown, completely still. Apart from the breathing of the ponies it was silent. Nothing was moving beside the rhythmical up and down of the blankets, slow and steady as if the last days hadn’t happened; nowhere an impulse or another sign of the rumbling that she maybe could also have dreamed, but there – a cryptic sparkle on the floor, only three steps away from her. At first she thought it was her imagination, but no, something was blinking at her in the darkness so she held the fire higher – not much, only a few inches, so it would be a little bit brighter in the room – and looked into an eye that was watching her.

Rarity stood completely still while the one eyed thing slowly rose. He slid out of his bed without a sound and was next to the unicorn within a second. He was larger than her by at least one full head and he nodded into her general direction, facing down the stairs. The fire was framing his body and showed a square-jawed face. His one eye was sparkling. Then, they went downstairs.

Shortly after they sat opposite of each other on the kitchen table. Rarity had levitated the magic fire into the middle of the room where it now was shining brightly. The one eyed pony was watching it as if he had never before seen something so beautiful. White bandages had been applied tightly onto his torso, with openings for his wings. His fur was dark red like a dying rose, his mane and tail were a pale yellow with few darker strands in it. He looked healthy but the magic fire was putting dark shadows under his eye which made him look older and more tired than he actually was. Rarity knew his name; he had introduced himself as Harmony when he had searched for shelter in this house. This had been the only thing he had said. By comparison, he now looked healthier than before despite the early hour.

Before… it had only been two days. Before seemed like an eternity.

Rarity cleared her throat – a quiet, elegant tone fitting for a lady – and called his attention to her. Harmony smiled at her shyly as if he wanted to apologize for ignoring her.

“Thanks, Miss Rarity,” he finally said. “That you let us live here.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Sweetheart.”

“Oh I do! It’s the least I can do.”

“Everypony would have done the same. It was my duty.”

“You’re really caring well for us. Please let me do something to repay it, Miss Rarity. Is there something I can do?”

“It would be a start to stop calling me Miss – not under these circumstances. Even though it flatters me, Rarity is enough.”

“Rarity… yes…”

“Does it still hurt?” She leaned forward a little bit.

“The eye, yes, a little bit.” Harmony put a hoof in front of the patch that was covering his right eye but didn’t touch it. “Sometimes more, sometimes less. It feels like… a small iron ball in my head that is glowing from time to time. But it’s manageable. And my back? It’s alright. As you can see I can already walk quite well. But I’m not well enough to fly. Nevertheless, I’m grateful. It could have been worse.”

“How did it happen?” she asked frankly.

His eyes darkened.

“Oh, I’m sorry. How very rude of me.”

“No, no, it’s alright. I don’t mind. Well, it was during the night.” They didn’t have another word for it, just the night. “I was still up to think. I do that quite often. Oh and I’m actually very sorry that I woke you up. I tend to walk around a bit while I’m thinking, although I tried to just tiptoe around the other ponies like a ghost. But I stumbled. At least the other ponies didn’t wake up. They are even worse off then me… where was I? The night, yes. So. There is, or rather was, a huge garden, almost like a park, that I used to wander through. I don’t even know how long I’ve been there but the moon had already traveled quite a bit. Then the attack started. At first I didn’t realize what was happening but I think most ponies didn’t. So anyway from one moment to the next suddenly I started to run. With the others I mean, the refugees. Wait no, that isn’t right, my brain is really messed up. I’m sorry. I only know that something came crashing down on me. As it turned out, it had been a pegasus. One of the dark ones. It disintegrated to dust like an old book the moment it hit me – but the impact was enough to make me fall to the ground. Oh no, now I confused something! I have a few problems with my memory concerning the night. The thing with the eye had happened before the Princess was there.”

“Celestia,” Rarity nodded.

“No,” he answered back. “It was her sister.”

“Luna? Princess Luna?”

“Yes of course. Why are you surprised?”

“I didn’t know that she was also in town.”

“Didn’t Princess Celestia mention that during her speech?”

“She didn’t even mention her in the speech.”

“Oh well. Who knows, she probably has her reasons. Can I go on?”

“I’m sorry, of course.”

“So, Princess Luna came. I didn’t recognize her at first. She was putting herself between me and the dark ponies. They were fighting. Of course I helped her but not even five seconds had passed when a hoof was hitting me in my face. At first I thought it wasn’t that bad but when this one pony looked after me – I don’t know her name anymore. She said that I’ve been very lucky. If the kick had only been a little bit off… well. That’s how it went.”

“And have you seen the Princess after that?”

“I was unconscious for a moment; when I woke up she was gone and the dark pony too. I haven’t heard anything from her since.”

“You don’t believe…” Her worried gaze finished her sentence for her.

“I hope that she’s well.” His voice was shaking a little bit. “Otherwise Celestia would have said something, right?”

Rarity looked away. Maybe she didn’t because of it she thought.

“Come on, let’s talk about something different,” Harmony said. “Can I have something to drink? My throat feels like sandpaper.”

“Of course. Lemonade?” She opened one of her cupboards with magic and made two glasses levitate onto the table, followed by a precious crystal carafe. She poured them both a glass. “I got this carafe in Canterlot,” she proudly explained. “Finest glass with beautiful ornaments. Do you see the engravings on the sides? And the color gradients under the openings? Beautiful and elegant craftsmanship. Of course it was expensive but a mare in my standings… what’s wrong? You’re not drinking?”

“There’s nothing inside.”

She looked stunned.

“It’s empty,” he said and turned over the glass. Not even one drop was inside.

Rarity was looking at the stallion and the empty carafe alternately; the carafe was showing her distorted reflection on it’s cold and dry profile. She began to stutter, not knowing for a moment if she was still dreaming or never woke up; then, Harmony reached over the table and took her hoof. They looked at each other and Rarity thought she could see his soul in the deep brown of his eyes. She could feel warmth spreading inside her, felt safe.

“We’re all a little confused right now,” he said quietly. He let go of her hoof, filled the glasses with water from the tap and sat down again. They both drank. Rarity looked at him but he seemed distracted. His one not bandaged eye looked at a point somewhere behind her.

They were silent for a little while. Then, Harmony asked Rarity about her boutique and she told him extensively about her work and the recognition she got from everywhere; of course without being too braggy because a lady never bragged. But still she felt a huge burst of satisfaction and validation when he told her that he had already seen a few of her collections in Canterlot. Even though he had to admit that he knew as much about fashion as a dog knew about art. The longer they talked the more open they were with each other. She started to get along very well and managed to suppress the memories of the last days for a while.

The horizon started to brighten slowly like a washed-out piece of cloth that was once black and now slowly became gray. There was not one speck of the imminent blood red sunrise to be seen. The dawn of another morning before the last day. When Rarity finally finished talking she asked Harmony in return about his job.

“Well, the things I do aren’t made that well with hooves and admired with one’s eyes, rather with your ears and your soul – I am, you can say, a poet.”

“A poet? How noble.” She smiled impishly.

He returned the smile. “Maybe not the way you think. I mostly write poems and songs, from time to time I write for theaters in Canterlot or Manehattan. I do it for fun. Even as a young filly I knew my purpose.” Now he showed her his flank and presented his cutie mark: a full ink pot next to three scrolls.

“Oh, this sounds exciting! I can see it in front of me…” She rested her head on her hooves and the hooves on the table and took a deep breath. “The theater is filled with chivalrous ponies, all of them in nice clothes. The curtain opens and a stage design appears, fondly created with great detail; then, on the right, the first actor walks on stage in silky robes, he begins to sing and dance while more ponies appear in the background and they all sing your song! Your song that you’ve written in sleepless nights! Isn’t that exciting? Oh, my heart would melt if I could be in the spotlight for this!” She sighed. “This surely has be very freeing? When the audience is stomping their hooves in enthusiasm?”

Harmony laughed cautiously without being able to stop it. It still came so naturally over him that it was almost ridiculous thinking about it later. “And it’s even more intense when you’re standing on the stage yourself.”

She looked at him questioningly.

“Well,” he explained. “A few times I was on stage myself as a singer. But only two or three times. This kind of excitement is not good for me.”

“Now I’m really curious.” She leaned and looked at him with her huge blue eyes.

“Oh no, no, seriously…”

“What do they say: One ought, every day at least, to hear a little song, read a good poem, see a fine picture, and, if it were possible, to speak a few reasonable words. And you can’t start early enough. You don’t want to deny me my wish, do you?” She lowered her head so her puppy eyes only became more intense, her vibrancy even more striking.

Harmony could feel the blood rushing into his head. He cleared his throat. “Okay. One, but only one.”

Rarity giggled.

“That I really got roped into this… what do you want to hear?”

“Your newest song,” she quickly answered.

He stopped. “I don’t know, that would be… maybe… I don’t know.”

She looked at him begging: puppy eyes and puckered lips. And Harmony of course fell for this trick.

“I… okay… fine! Alright. But apologies in advance, my voice may be a little rusty.” He stood up, cleared his throat again, went through the text in his head and started his song. In contrast to what he had claimed his voice was completely clear, strong and high-pitched, but not too high; he hit an ideal tone. He sang:

As the springtime flowers bloom
And their scent wafts through the air,
My soul breaks free from all the gloom
That fills me with despair.

Near the small pond’s waterside
Shines the meadow’s gaudy hue,
And amidst it I shall stride
Whether the sky is grey or blue.

As I wander past many a flower
All my thoughts are trained on her,
And her beauty’s radiant power
Sets my aching heart astir.

So with longing I am struck
For the one that I adore,
Since, if her I dared to pluck,
She’d be gone forevermore.

He went silent.

“Go on,” Rarity whispered. “Please. Please go on.”

Something in her voice hit Harmony right in his heart. So he went on:

Every day I make my way
To her; her fragrance shakes my core.
In the meadow she shall stay,
By the pond’s enchanting shore.

Alas! One early summer day,
As I arrive, she’s gone.
And neither plain nor vale nor brae
I find her standing on.

I seek her, searching far and wide,
Betwixt the grass and moss,
But she has vanished from my sight,
And painful is my loss.

A fellow might have longed for more
So he tore us apart.
She’ll bloom three days for him, or four,
But always in my heart.

The song was over. For a moment he still stood there, eyes closed. Then he sat down, dropped down on his chair, weak as if he had breathed out his whole life force with this song.

“I’m speechless,” Rarity said honestly. She looked at him with awe. “Bravo! I can’t say it any other way.”

“Thanks. You’re flattering me way too much I fear.” Harmony looked tired.

"Who is she?”

He looked at her.

“Who you’re describing in the song? Who is she?”

“Was,” he says tightly.

Rarity understood. “I’m so sorry.”

He waved it aside. “It’s alright. It was long ago. I was still young then. And easy to impress.” He looked down for a few moments until he found his words again: “We met in the park where I still go occasionally today; well, until a few days ago, that is. Doesn’t that sound like a huge cliche? Young poet meets the love of his life during a walk… I know the moment I first saw her eyes, these beautiful bright eyes that reminded me of the color of freshly plucked corn. It had started to rain, only a light summer rain that had painted a rainbow onto the sky. I was on my way home, passing by the huge chestnuts in which the birds were chirping – and between the trees I saw her, only for a moment. But I’ve never been able to forget her. I’ve looked for her every day after that, a whole week without meeting her again. Just when I wanted to give up I met her again. And so it went. One thing lead to another. And before I noticed I lost my heart to her. We met for one year. Every day.” He hesitated for a moment, collecting his strength for the next words. “One day she didn’t show up. I waited for her in our usual place. One day. Two. Even the third. Finally I went to her home… and they told me that she suddenly got very sick and that… well, whatever, it doesn’t matter. I never had the heart to tell her about my feelings because I was afraid that I would be rejected; some day it was too late.”

Rarity wanted to grab his hoof but he flinched. “Is she the reason why you can’t sleep at night? Are you thinking about her?” she asked after a while.

Harmony sucked in a breath. “It doesn’t leave me alone. I tried to ignore it for a long time. But my thoughts always returned to her. Finally I tried to find an outlet for the pressure in my mind and I found it in poetry. I’ve written so many songs about her; this one, too. Even if it doesn’t have a title. Celestia help me! If only I had… I was too afraid to pick her, my flower. I abandoned her. I wanted to put her into a vase so she would be mine forever. But she was taken away from me. I abandoned her…”

“Flowers wilt away in vases, too.” She didn’t know what else to say.

“But if you dig them up with her roots and plant her into a flower bed, carefully, they’ll live on.” He covered his face with his hooves, then he stood up so abruptly that the chair almost fell over. “All these talking has made me mellow.”

“Please, stay…”

“No, Miss Rarity. No. I don’t want to plague you anymore.”

“Please, I’m sorry.” But he didn’t listen. Without a word he left the kitchen and went upstairs.

Rarity sat there alone and looked at the door, hoping he would come back. When it didn’t happen she looked at the now empty glass of water and out of the window. They had been talking for almost one and a half hour. Now that the talk was over the menacing events from outside this room were looming over her. Slowly the first rays of sunlight were crawling over the city. Rarity filled the glass with fresh water but didn’t drink it. Then she put the dishes back into the cupboard, extinguished the magic fire and went into the bathroom to prepare for the day because she surely wasn’t able to sleep anymore.

~ ~ ~

The sun was lurking on the horizon like an insect; the light was transforming the clouds in the sky into a painting of a battle in red and gold. It was still cold, many buildings looked abandoned. Although it was still early many ponies were bustling around the streets. To prepare everything. To be prepared.

The way to Sugarcube Corner seemed endless for Rarity. With every step she took she felt as if she would only veer further away from it. When she finally arrived she felt relief. There was light inside the building. Of course; the ovens were going full speed. Every bakery, restaurant, bistro, every pony that was working with food was busy to provide food for the whole town, the injured from Canterlot, the auxiliary – how bad this word sounded in Rarity’s head – that was scheduled to arrive in a few days. They were preparing for the storm that was approaching.

She opened the door.

“Pinkie? Mr. and Mrs. Cake?”

She waited but no one was answering. The counter in the foyer was empty so she went into the kitchen. She wrinkled her nose when she saw the chaos: there were lemon peels, empty paper bags, a measuring jug and two or three bowls on the floor; flour was in the air, cupboards were wide open, the desktops and walls were full of spots from various resources. In the corner there were a few sacks and bags with different names on them and a few of them had spilled bread rolls, muffins, cookies and other pastries onto the floor. On the left next to the door Rarity was standing in there were half a dozen black baking trays – full of cupcakes with glazing and croissants – like an ugly mosaic. On the opposite side of the room stood Pinkie Pie with her back to Rarity. She was covered with baking ingredients, leaning over a huge bowl with dough that she was kneading.

“Pinkie?” she asked cautiously.

“Hi, Rarity.” Her voice was as loud and shrill as ever but – considering the chaos here even more frightening – it sounded rough, almost hoarse, monotonously and lifeless. For a second Rarity thought that Pinkie was the figure from her dream.

“Pinkie… what happened here?”

“Oh, this? I’m sorry. I didn’t manage to clean up here. I was busy.” She didn’t even bother to turn around. Instead, she continued to knead the dough.

“And your mane?”

“Hm?”

“It’s so… different. It’s… flat.”

“I washed it,” she said clipped. “It must still be wet.”

“Oh.” Pause. “Well you shouldn’t walk around with a wet mane. You could get a cold.” She giggled awkwardly.

Nothing.

“And it’s not good for your hairdo.”

Nothing.

Rarity sighed. “Pinkie, is – are you well?”

“Hm-h.”

“Everything okay?”

“Everything okey-dokey-lokey.” It sounded wrong, dishonest.

“Do you need he-”

“No.” Fast, cold, sharp.

Thirty seconds or more passed by. Every single one of them was sheer torment.

“Please, Pinkie!” Rarity finally blurted out. “Talk to me. I know, this… whole thing is bothering you, but you’re not alone. Your friends are always there for you. You can’t forget this.”

“You know what’s funny about all of this?” she asked as if she hadn’t heard Rarity. “It’s so easy.”

“E- easy?”

“Yes. Think about it. You only have to ask the right questions. Then everything will be easy. Look: everyone is asking if this is really happening. If this can be true. This is much too complicated. You can only answer ‘yes’ to all of this. But what’s the point? There isn’t one. Because it will still get denied. You saw Fluttershy yesterday. And she wasn’t the only one. You know I was similar, too. But last night I just thought about it. And accepted it. I suddenly clicked. Since then I see it from a totally different angle. If you think about it for a moment you can notice too what’s so weird about this situation. We are the problem. Ponyville is the problem. It’s in our minds. And we have to turn it off. Then we can see everything more clearer. If we only try to get to bottom of the important things – our mind.”

No it was Rarity’s turn to be silent. She looked at her friend – and didn’t recognize her anymore.

“Your food is somewhere on the right,” Pinkie finally said. “There’s your name on one of the sacks.”

She looked and found the right sack. It was directly next to the kitchen door. She looked inside, surprised. “But that’s much less than I ordered! This is not even enough for the next two days. We’re nine ponies in the boutique, ten if you count myself. Why is there only so little food?”

“It has to be enough. This is the sack for the next five days.”

Rarity looked at her stunned.

“Everyone gets less,” Pinkie explained. “We have to lower our sights. Princess Celestia ordered it. We have to ration everything. Until it gets better.” She whispered the next words. “They don’t eat much anyway.”

They. The others. Still the others.

Again a heavy silence weighed them down; only interrupted by the drumming noise of the ovens and the quiet sounds Pinkie made when she started to roll out the dough. Rarity couldn’t stand it. As much as the incoherent rambling of the giggly earth pony was unnerving at times… it was even worse if she was like this, completely serious and rational. It was a slap to the face, a sting in her heart to see her that way, abrasive on the outside and locked inside her own head.

The door was opened.

“Oh, you’re still there.”

Mrs. Cake was entering Sugarcube Corner with her husband and was beside herself for a moment. “I thought you were gone when we come back. Well, that’s how wrong you can be, right, darling?”

“Of course, sweetheart.”

Both looked tired. They were carrying saddlebags and baskets filled to the brim with bags of flour and other ingredients.

Rarity looked over her shoulder and watched Pinkie Pie who was cutting shapes out of the dough. Then she said: “I was just about to leave. I can see that you’re very busy here. I don’t want to stand in your way.”

“But of course not, my dear! Please, stay a while. Can I make you a tea? Or do you want something else? Please, sit down, I can make you something, we can take a break for five minutes, we were up for the last two hours to get supplies, right, darling?”

Mr. Cake nodded. He didn’t look convinced.

Through the whole town, such a hard work, but we’ll have to go again in the evening… there’s so much work to do… do you really don’t want to sit with us for a few minutes?”

“No, really not; I mean, I can’t.” She pulled the sack with her name on it to her. “I really have to keep going, I’m sorry.” Only in her mind she continued: a five minutes break from all of this, this sounds heavenly…

Mrs. Cake forced a smile. “Well then,” she said cautiously. “But let me help you with this sack, it’s way too heavy for you. Let me do this – darling, can you take this?”

“Of course, sweetheart.” Mr. Cake put the bags down.

“No, that’s not, please, I really don’t want you to…” To no avail. Mr. Cake took the sack and was already on her way outside. Rarity tried to talk him out of it for a while and so they left Sugarcube Corner together. Mrs. Cake watched them, snorted, sighed, wanted to put her groceries away but then she decided to veer into the kitchen.

“Oh my god,” she said breathless and looked around. “I’m going to clean this up, this is a huge chaos.”

“It’s alright, Mrs. Cake. I’ll do it. I just want to finish these cookies.”

“You’re baking cookies? … Pinkie you know we should rather bake appropriate products.” She spoke with many intermissions: Pinkie. You know. We should rather. Bake. Appropriate products. “This is not the time for sweets even if you like them so much, don’t you think?”

“Only this tray,” Pinkie said. She hadn’t turn around one time since Rarity had stepped inside the room. “Then I’ll clean up. And then I’ll continue. Bread. Bread rolls. Everything we need.”

“Why don’t you take a break, you’ve been working for hours without a break. Let me do this, dear.”

Pinkie didn’t answer. She took a cloth into both of her hooves, opened the oven door and took out the hot baking tray where another charge of cookies were steaming.

“You’re so withdrawn, Pinkie, dear.” Mrs. Cake looked helpless. “Let me help you, I beg…”

An abrupt, unbelievably loud clash of metal made her fall silent.

Pinkie Pie had thrown the tray onto the desktop. Many cookies had fallen down. She put her hooves down onto the desktop. Mrs. Cake could hear her breathe.

“Okay… then… I’ll just leave you to it if you don’t want to talk now.” She wanted to turn around and tend to the groceries that were still in the saddlebags. But wait, there was… something.

“What’s this sound?” she asked Pinkie.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“No I’m sure I’ve heard it. A whiz. There! Again. Only very short. There! Don’t you hear it?” She listened intensely. Pinkie was silent. “Well,” Mrs. Cake said cautiously, “maybe I’m just imagining things… it wouldn’t be the first time.” She stood there for a few seconds until she went back into the foyer to her bags and baskets.

Whizz.

Pinkie still stood in front of the baking tray. She started to put the cookies back onto the tray but she was shivering – a few cookies were breaking in her hooves. She breathed heavily. Pushed a few crumbles away. Her mind was full of thoughts that were whirling through her mind like debris from a tornado. Hitting against her skull from the inside. Tearing it up, crushing it, breaking it. Breaking it.

Pinkie was alone. Another tear was falling from her face, unseen, onto the tray and evaporated.

Whizz.

~ ~ ~

They didn’t talk at all on the way to the boutique. Mr. Cake looked absent-minded. His gaze was wandering around and he looked so intently at the most normal things like a flower bed or a butterfly that he had almost crashed into another pony. He didn’t react to her questions aside from nodding or shaking his head so finally Rarity gave into the silence. When they were at the boutique he put the sack down, said a short goodbye and went back. She looked after him. He was wobbling with every step and had his head down.

Rarity put the sack into the kitchen. It wasn’t too heavy, she could have carried it without trouble but she suspected that it was… kind of a relief for the Cakes to do something else than just bake. A little bit diversion, no matter if it’s a big task or only a sack that had to be carried. When she stepped into the kitchen she hoped that Harmony would sit there – but only her furniture was greeting her. She prepared nine plates with parts of her order and decorated it with some carrots and celery that she had bought ahead. Then she carried the plates upstairs. It was still dark in the room because the curtains were closed but she didn’t open them. She wanted to let them sleep. Harmony lied on his bed with his back to the door but she could feel that he was awake and only pretended to sleep. When she left the room she hesitated for a moment because she felt the need to say something. She opened her mouth but didn’t find any words so she finally closed the door quietly and went back downstairs.

She stood on the edge of the stairs for five minutes, staring into the room. She could hear the house breath and creak. She could hear herself. Then she walked around the room a little bit, looked at the cold furniture, touched it a little bit as if she could breathe life into it. Something was keeping her occupied. Rarity turned around one last time and sat down on the couch. Her gaze was serious and focused. She could feel her heart beating faster. It wasn’t even nine o’clock but she felt as if she had already experienced a whole day. Rarity did what Pinkie had said to her: think. And she thought about what Harmony had told her, about whom he had told her: Princess Luna.

She had been in town. That was a fact. No one had bothered to tell anypony – it hadn’t seemed important. Did anyone else know this? She couldn’t tell. Was it important?

Was it… the solution?

Rarity thought about all that had happened with some kind of distance. Princess Celestia moved into the spotlight of her thoughts again and again. She tried to remember something that she could have missed; an emotion on her face, a shiver in her voice.

It didn’t help.

Back to the beginning. What did she know? On Thursday she takes a break from work. She walks a while and sees Princess Celestia approaching when she comes back. A huge mass of ponies is accompanying her. Rarity joins the other ponies to understand what the Princess is saying. Then she vanishes into the city hall. The ponies start to care for the wounded. Rarity goes to the boutique and prepares for her ‘guests’ who she tends to for the rest of the day with the help of Fluttershy and a doctor. On Friday she’s up early, cares for Harmony and the others and goes to the market square where she talks to her friends. Then the speech. The Princess is talking at first, then the mayor. And then…

She shakes her head. Too complicated, Rarity thinks.

Again.

Celestia appears out of nowhere with a huge crowd of injured ponies. She talks to them. She announces a speech. Vanishes into the city hall. On the next day there’s the speech. She gives Ponyville a choice. In the evening they choose.

Nothing.

Again.

Celestia appears. The injured. The announcement. The city hall. The speech. The choice. Their choice.

Rarity sighed. “This has no point,” she says flatly.

Had this all only started two days ago? It seemed unreal. The pictures inside her head were blurred, washed out like an old dream. A memory and a corruption, because she had missed something, she couldn’t hold it, it fell through her hooves like the silk she used to tailor her clothes out of.

She closed her eyes and counted to five. Tried to clean up the mess in her mind. Then she opened her eyes and didn’t think about anything for a moment. She looked outside the window and now saw even more ponies then before on the streets. Most of them were walking in the same direction and those who didn’t just came from that direction. Wood trusses and bars were getting carried. There was a huge construction site where a new building was supposed to be erected but now the materials were used for other things, on the front line where they erected barricades and dug trenches. The path from the construction site to the front line crossed the Carousel Boutique but not Fluttershy’s house; the pegasus pony had to leave her house the day before the attack because it was inside the danger zone. Rarity had almost forgotten that Fluttershy wanted to come by in the evening. Bandages had to be changed, she wanted to look at the wounds to see how good they were healing. Now it came to her mind – and everything was clear.

Rarity stood up. Of course! She hadn’t missed something, but somepony. Somepony who had talked to the Princess, who knew her better than anyone in this town, how knew her for years and was taught everything by her: Twilight. What had they talked about? Why was Twilight so withdrawn? What did she have to hide? How did Luna fit in all of this?

She got restless from her own thoughts and paced up and down.

Then we see everything more clearer. If we only go to the bottom of the right things.

She couldn’t get one thought of her head, a simple, uncomplicated thought.

Sometimes a weak impulse was enough. A small pebble that triggered a rock slide. A small drop that causes the barrel to overflow. An image that feeds a terrible suspicion. The conversations with Harmony and Pinkie had sparked off an idea but she was afraid of it – because she knew what it would mean if she was right.

Nothing was keeping her here anymore. She left the boutique and made her way to the library.

~ ~ ~

The opening door cast a bright area of light onto the floor. It was dark inside. No lamp was burning and the curtains were closed; it was stuffy and warm. A soft wind was blowing through the open door. You could receive the impression that the building had been empty for years. Involuntarily he had the picture of an abandoned ghost house in his mind. One time, it had been a few years go when the world had still been in harmony, he had read a horror story. Only for fun. He hadn’t made it to the end, just after half of it he felt so bad that he had closed the book with a loud bang and never looked at it again. This story had been about an old, decayed house made out of cold bricks and whispering wooden boards. He couldn’t remember the name anymore but as he stood there in the empty library he could remember one sentence from this sorry that he had never been able to forget: Silence lay steadily against the wood and stone of the house, and whatever walked there, walked alone.

A few feet in front of him was a huge book with a folded card on top of it. He picked it up and read what was on it.

“Twilight?” Spike exclaimed and shut the door.

No answer. Only silence was creeping out of the shadows. He waited until he could see better in the dark and called her again.

He heard rustling upstairs. “I’m here,” a soft voice said.

The small dragon went upstairs and stubbed his feet on a pile of books that was on the very highest step. He looked around – everything was full of books but Twilight was nowhere to be seen.

“Where are you?” he asked confused.

“Here.” The unicorn appeared out of thin air on the bed.

Spike startled. “Never do this again!” he told her. After a short pause he continued: “You can do this invisibility trick pretty well by now.”

She hummed in agreement.

“But why are you sitting here so… well… invisible?”

She spoke very slowly as if she had just woken up. “Somepony’s been here before. I don’t know who it was. She wanted to talk to me but I rather hid. I did this very often in the last days. Actually practically every time. If I don’t talk to anypony I can’t lie to anypony. Or disappoint them.”

Spike looked at her sadly. “Oh Twilight…” he sighed. Then he pulled back the curtains and opened the window to let some fresh air and light in.

“It was Glory Morning.”

“What?”

“She was here before.”

“How do you know?”

He showed her the book. “This was downstairs. Read the card.”

She took it. Collected works – Pony Literature and Pony Poetry of the last two hundred years was the name of the book, written in huge red letters on the dark green cover. The handwriting on the card was neat and written with silver ink. Glory Morning’s name was on it. Twilight held the card in her hooves like an old dusty family picture reminding her of happier times where everpony had been easygoing and not afraid of the future because they didn’t have to think about it. They had been sheltered and protected and was able to wake up in the morning and say: “I’m free!”

Twilight, not free, put the card away without unfolding it.

“So you don’t want to right now, hm?”

“Did you read it?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

“What do you mean?”

“Is there something written there?”

“Yes, of course.” He looked at her confused.

“Is there something written about how do turn back time?” She didn’t hide the sharpness in her voice.

He let his shoulders slump.

“Is there something written about how to undo lies? Or how to prevent Canterlot from being in ashes and dust? … No, I don’t want to read this card right now, Spike.” She turned her gaze away.

Spike stood there for a few moments, affronted.

“I’m sorry,” Twilight said remorseful. “I didn’t want to take this out on you. It was nasty and unfair. Especially to you. It seems like I only do the wrong thing nowadays.”

He smiled or at least he tried but it looked more like a grimace. “Hey… that… forget that. That was nothing. Really. Everything’s okay. You don’t have to be say sorry.” Spike patted her shoulder reassuringly.

She leaned against him. Their cheeks touched. He could smell the salt of dried tears on her. “I feel so lost, Spike. I’m afraid of what will come. The Princess will make everything better, everything better. But I don’t know if I can ever forgive myself. Whatever happens I’m responsible. At least partly.”

“Don’t say that. What happened isn’t your fault. And it’s also not your fault if something goes wrong.”

“How can you be so sure of that?”

“I just know it.”

They were silent.

“Would you do it differently?” he asked. “If you could start over what would you change? Could you change anything?”

“…”

“No. You would do it exactly the same. Because it’s right.”

“But it feels wrong, so wrong.”

“Well some things just do. You’re not at fault for what happened or what will happen,” he repeated.

“Yes I do. Every injured or dead pony will follow me into my dreams. I’ll have their deaths on my conscience.”

“No, you don’t.”

“If I could only believe it… I feel so lost and empty. The Princess is trusting me but I don’t even know if I can hold up. It pulls the rug out from under my hooves and I can only hold onto you. Please… please don’t let me fall.” Her voice broke because of the last words.

“Shh. It’s alright.”

“Promise me,” she begged.

“I swear,” he said. “On my life. I will be always there for you.”

She kissed him. It came as a surprise and he struggled to hold his balance. Her lips were hot on his. After three seconds it was over. He pulled her in his arms and stroked her mane. She started to whimper quietly and he had to use all his will power to not start, too. Spike didn’t know how long they were standing there in this embrace. It could have been a minute or fifteen. He could feel her heart beating. In this moment Spike noticed how much he loved her. Not like a stallion loved a mare but rather like a brother his sister or a father his children, wholeheartedly, earnestly, and deeply.

Some time – time had become so useless – Twilight left Spike’s embrace. She looked at him, still with tears glistering in her eyes.

“We can do this,” he said.

“Yes?”

“Of course.”

“Who told you that?”

“I just have a good feeling. And when was I ever wrong?”

Twilight laughed. Yes, she could still laugh. Cautiously and quietly, but honest. A beautiful sound in these difficult days. Spike looked at her lovingly. He had wished that he could hear her laugh.

“Why are you even here right now?” she sniffed. “I thought you’d come later.”

“Everypony’s doing fine right now, they don’t need me, so I thought… well I thought I’d take a break and look for you. Seems I was right.”

Twilight smiled. “Thanks,” she whispered.

“When I see you like this I don’t want to return. They’re calling it the front line. Gives me a chill every time somepony says this… and I’m just standing around anyway. I could be of better use for you.”

“Oh Spike… but the Princess herself has made you foreman.”

“We both now that she only did this so I don’t feel useless.”

“No, not in the slightest,” she smiled at him.

He looked at her piercingly. “You’re sure of that?”

She nodded. “I’ll be fine. It already helped just to talk to you. At least you made me smile again. Just go. I just need to rest a little bit. I’ll be better soon. I have to regain my strength. And that doesn’t work if a small bright dragon is running in circles around me.” She looked to her site now. “A small bright dragon that means so, so much to me.”

Spike turned red. He cleared his throat and scratched the back of his head. “Your last word?”

“Yes, really. I mean it. You can’t neglect your duty just because of me.”

“Okay, fine. But only under one condition!”

“Which would be?”

“I come back regularly and look after you.”

Twilight had to grin. “Well your negotiation skills are so good I can’t refuse, right?”

He hugged her again. “Everything will be okay,” he said. “I’ll come back in an hour. Rest now.” With these last words he want downstairs again, turned around one last time and was gone shortly after that.

Twilight closed the window but left the curtains open. She actually felt better. And she really believed that she could endure this day and maybe even the following if she could only get some time for herself now, withdrawn, but not in an ivory tower like just a few minutes ago. Then she closed her eyes but simply couldn’t find rest. The door downstairs was opened. Had she fallen asleep? For a moment she wondered if one hour had already passed and Spike had come back so she called out his name. But when she saw Rarity who was running upstairs in a frenzy she felt a shadow casting over her heart. She suspected the worst.

“We have to talk,” Rarity said breathless.

“I already feared that,” Twilight mumbled.

“What are you saying?”

“Nothing.” She shook her head. “What’s wrong? You look really bothered.”

Rarity composed herself. “Twilight,” she said more calmly. “There’s a problem. And I would like to talk to you about it. Because I have a suspicion and I hope that it doesn’t come true.”

“Well that doesn’t sound good.” While she stalked she stood up and sighed. “Okay. So what happened?”

The beautiful unicorn lady bit her lip and shifted from one hoof to the other. At any other time Twilight maybe would have made a joke and ask Rarity if she needed to go the toilet. But the time for jokes was over.

“Come one, say it. There’s something bothering you.”

“Yes! I mean, well, I don’t know how to say it…”

“Just straightforward is probably the best possibility.”

“If you say so.” She took a deep breath and just blurted everything out. “I think the Princess lied to us.”

Twilight froze and then started to shiver. Her tongue was glued to the roof of her mouth like leather. She was grateful that Rarity continued to speak because she wouldn’t have been able to say one word herself.

“I know it sounds absurd but let me ask you something: Did you know that Princess Luna has been in Canterlot during the time of the attack?”

She blinked at Rarity but didn’t say one word. How do you know? she thought and was afraid for a moment that she had said it out loud. But she was silent and Rarity interpreted it wrong.

“So you didn’t.” She seemed to shrink. “I’ve already suspected that. If she hasn’t even told you then, I think, I’m right. I really hoped I would be wrong! This will sound very confusing and absurd at the beginning but Twilight, hear me out first, after that you can still call me crazy. You know, it all sounds so unfeasible, but it’s just a simple thought: if she hadn’t told us about her sister what else has she hidden from us?” She went around the pile of books and took a step towards Twilight. “I didn’t want to believe it at first too, but now that even you don’t know the whole truth this only confirms my suspicions. You’ll probably want to say something but let me speak to the end.”

Twilight – not able to produce one sound – looked at her with eyes wide open from sheer terror. She was afraid of what Rarity would say. Have they been found out? Obviously. How? Did somepony else knew about this? Quiet, quiet, she had to tell herself, just listen to what she knows.

“Okay,” she started again. “I just want to say that I cannot prove anything of this. But isn’t it weird? Why hasn’t she been a refugee? I mean, Luna is her sister, where is she? I can tell you what I think… I think that Luna has stayed in Canterlot. I know that she fought against the darkness. What if she, you know, didn’t make it? And if she did – why isn’t she here?”

“You think Luna is dead?” Twilight had found her voice and was surprised how calm she sounded. You couldn’t hear her inner turmoil.

“It looks like it! But it doesn’t end here: I haven’t thought about it before and I think I can safely say that nopony did, but how likely to do you think it is that a town like Canterlot is destroyed and we only hear about it after two days? It’s not like there’s a whole world between our cities. Celestia didn’t want us to know. She has to… she must have done something so we wouldn’t know. And why? Because she wanted to have us here. Here. She wanted us to stay in Ponyville, to gather around. I can believe her that she didn’t know about the attack; this would make sense. But was she really as defenseless as she said? And how can it be that the dark ones are attacking our town? There are other cities that are nearer to Canterlot and are more important. Shall I say what I think happened? They were lured here. The Princess has done something to make them march straight into Ponyville. And you’ll probably ask: why Ponyville? The reason for that is probably you; because I think that she wants to have you near her. But there’s more. Yesterday during the speech she said that she would send some pegasi when the choice was made. Have you seen even one pegasi flying away since yesterday? I didn’t. I think Celestia was certain that we wouldn’t notice because we were too busy with the choice. And that’s the next weird thing! All of her efforts would have been for nothing if we had chosen to flee – the Princess had to make sure that we would stay. Just remember her speech; you’ll see that all she did was trying to convince us to fight. But even if it wouldn’t have went the way she wanted it to it would have been very easy for her to manipulate this election without us knowing! And for an emergency she had one trump card: you. I’m afraid that she somehow… manipulated you to stay on her side. It can’t be too difficult because she had taught you for years. She probably asked you to trust her during your conversation yesterday, right?”

I need you. Do you trust me?

Twilight nodded without realizing it.

Rarity seemed disappointed. “I knew it. It looks like a bad joke, but… Twilight… she planned all of this. She planned every little detail of this.” She sat down, tired. It must have cost her a lot of strength to say all of this.

She chose her words wisely. “But why would the Princess want that?”

“Luna,” she said. “Luna is the reason. If she really was killed in Canterlot the Princess would want to revenge her. And we’re her puppets.”

“How do you even know about Luna?”

“Har… one of the injured ponies that I care for has told me. He has seen her in Canterlot.”

“And have you talked to him about your suspicions? Or to somepony else?”

Rarity looked at her. “I don’t know how that…”

“Just answer the question,” she snapped.

“No,” she answered after a short pause. “I didn’t talk to anypony. Twilight, is everything okay? Are you angry? If you know more than me please tell me, I beg you. I still hope that I’m wrong. So please, object if you know more.”

Her mind was full of thoughts. Rarity somehow made the right conclusions but only – hopefully – accidentally. She hadn’t talked to anyone, had directly come to her after getting these ideas. The injured pony didn’t seem to suspect anything. Twilight was sure he had only talked about Luna casually and didn’t think about it. How late was it? Did she still have time until Spike’s return? He wasn’t allowed to see Rarity here. She didn’t have much time.

“We have to talk,” she finally said. "Not here, not now. It’s too dangerous. If somepony hears us this can have dire consequences.”

Her eyes widened. “You mean I’m right? I’m right with my suspicions?”

Twilight tilted her head. “I can’t tell. We have to be cautious. How much time do you have? Do you have further appointments?”

She shook her head.

“Good,” Twilight said quickly. “Okay, we’ll do it this way… we will meet in two hours at the edge of the Everfree Forest and …”

“Why there?”

“No one will listen to us there. Two hours. Please be careful that nopony is following you. We can talk about everything there. Now go. Don’t talk to anypony. Nopony. This has to stay between us. The fate of everypony is in our hooves.”

Rarity sobbed, nodded shortly, stood up hesitatingly and went downstairs. When she left the library she was careful not to be seen and tip-toed away.

Twilight sat on her bed, alone. Now that Rarity was gone she let her tears flow freely. She once had read that tears were cleansing your soul. If that was true she was confident she wouldn’t need the invisibility charm anymore soon because she would surely be as clear as glass. All these lies were spoken without hesitation, almost as if the lies themselves had become the truth, and wasn’t that the truth? In the last two days, hadn’t she lied like never before in her life? The lies became her truth and her chaos.

She waited almost half an hour until Spike came. Somehow she managed to not let him on about anything and after ten minutes she managed to get rid of him without looking like she didn’t want his company. After that she left herself. When she closed the door behind her and walked around town invisible she could almost hear a part of her soul or whatever else it may be breaking and rotting away.

~ ~ ~

“Somepony is asking questions.”

“Who?”

“It’s…”

“It’s one of your friends, isn’t it?”

Nothing.

“Please, Twilight. Who is it?”

“… Rarity. She knows something.”

“What does she know? And how?”

“She knows about your sister. Somepony has seen her in Canterlot and told her. He doesn’t know anything.”

“Does anypony else know?”

“No.”

“So she didn’t talk to anypony about her suspicions, only with you?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure of that?”

“One hundred percent.”

She thought about it.

“What did you tell her?”

She told the Princess about the conversation and ended it with: “I had to get rid of her somehow to talk to you… I told her I would meet her at the Everfree Forest. In”, she looked at the clock in the city hall, “forty minutes.”

“The forest… it’s probably a good place for it.” The Princess didn’t think for a second and said what she wanted straight forward: “Then we don’t have a choice. You know what to do.”

Twilight hesitated. “W-what do you mean?” she asked, already sensing the answer.

“She can’t talk. She knows too much.”

“But… she’s one of my best friends. If I tell her that… that she can’ tell anypony she won’t do it!”

“We can’t risk anything.” She looked her student in the eye. “It’s a huge disaster that she was able to guess so much. She has a sharp mind. We mustn’t underestimate her. If we let her walk freely she’s going to be a huge threat. We can’t risk riots. You get that?”

“What do you want to do with her?”

Princess Celestia told her. “She’s going to be a huge threat,” she said. “We have to get her out of the way. Our whole plan will alter because of this. But it would be a disaster if she would share her knowledge with others. We’re walking a thin line. Every small tremor can make us fall. And your friend Rarity is a tremor.”

“But she will be missed. She can’t just… vanish.”

“Make up a good excuse. She only has to be considered missing for one day, until tomorrow evening. After that we can say that she was evacuated with the other ponies. No one will notice in all this mess.”

“And the ponies in the boutique?”

“I will make arrangements.”

Twilight looked down.

“It’s best for everypony,” the Princess charmed her. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” Blind. “If you say it…”

“Look at me, listen closely: I’m so proud of you. You’ve learned so much in the last years and you are so bright. I’m sure that you already know in your mind that we have to do this, even if your heart tells you otherwise. If you think about all this you’ll see that this is the path we have to walk in order to do everything as planned. It’s for the greater good.”

For a few moments they only stood in silence.

“Promise me that nopony else will suffer… once the time has come?”

“I promise you.” She stepped forward and embraced her student with her wings.

“And…” She had to swallow to make room for the next words. “And you promise that this will all end well? You’re sure we’re doing the right thing?”

“Sometimes we have to make sacrifices and live through bad times to get to our destination,” she explained. “I promise you. When everything’s over there’ll be no shadows anymore that will darken the sun for us.”

Twilight leaned against her mentor. Her soft fur and her confident voice comforted her considering what she was about to do.

“Go now,” Celestia said after they had spent five minutes in silence. “It’s time.”

~ ~ ~

In the evening, shortly before the sunset, there was a knock on the library door. Spike opened.

“Hello, Fluttershy,” he said surprised. “Why are you here?”

“Hello, Spike, ehm,” she said softly. “Ehm, I only wanted to visit Twilight, quickly, to ask her something, but if it’s not a good time now, uhm, then I’ll come back another time if that’s alright.”

He invited her in. “She’s in her bed upstairs. But be gentle, she isn’t well.”

“Oh no, what’s wrong? Is she sick?”

Spike shrugged. “At noon she was better but now she’s somehow… sinking again. If you get what I mean. I don’t want to claim that it got worse but… well tomorrow it will all be better, I think.”

“I h-hope so.” She looked worried.

“So why are you here?”

“Well, I wanted to, uhm, ask something about Rarity.”

“Did something happen to her?” Something in her voice set the alarm bells off in him.

“No, no. I mean, uhm, how can I say it? I don’t really know.” She got a suspicious look. “That’s why I’m here, you know?” They went upstairs to Twilight.

“Who’s there, Spike?” she asked. Her voice sounded muffled through the blanket that she had put over her head.

“It’s me, Twilight,” Fluttershy said. “I don’t want to bother you, if you’re busy I’ll come back tomorrow. I just wanted to ask you something.”

“Go on,” she sighed.

“It’s about Rarity.”

She tensed her muscles.

“I had an appointment with her for… well the ponies that are sleeping in her boutique. I just wanted to look after them, care for them, make sure they’re alright. Stuff like this. And Rarity wasn’t there, so I waited and waited, and then I – well I made everything myself. I don’t want to complain… but, hm, well, it’s just that – do you know where she is? Have you seen her?”

A moment passed.

“Twilight?”

“No,” she said quietly. Her voice was quivering: n-n-no. “I haven’t seen her. Maybe she’s with her parents?”

“Oh! Hm. Yeah, maybe. Okay, so, uhm, if you haven’t seen her, I’ll just… go. I don’t want to be a bother. Good night, or get well, or, uhm…” She got quieter and quieter and finally stopped talking. Then she said her goodbye and left without making a sound.

Spike stood on the edge of the stairs and looked down. “Where might she be?” he thought out loud.

Twilight didn’t say anything. Didn’t see anything. Didn’t hear anything. She was just grateful that the thing with Rarity hadn’t taken too long. It hadn’t taken long at all – not as long as she feared it would have. Of course it cost her quite an effort but then she saw the Princess in her head: that gave her strength. And finally it had become a matter of course. It definitely was better if Rarity wasn’t there anymore. If she was lucky nopony would notice. But did she even care? If everything was ending wouldn’t she be freer if everypony knew? Could she receive absolution from her sins? Of course not… somehow all her efforts were foiled because of this. But personally, Twilight could only hope that she could tell somepony sometime so the burden wouldn’t squash her from the inside. She was already splitting. Like an old, blotchy mirror that only reflected the truth blurry, she disintegrated into separate parts. She had already cracked two days ago, but Rarity transformed more and more into a bullet that made her facade crumble. The first push that made all the dominoes fall over, a huge chain reaction, and she stood at the end of it. And it would crumble her. This, she knew with terrible certainty.

The dark warmth under her blanket was beautiful, it distracted her. Almost cozy. If she would die one day she would want to have this cozy feeling, she told herself. This would take away her fear of the end. And maybe let her forget everything that she had done for the Princess and that she had expected of everypony around her.