The Olden World

by Czar_Yoshi

Last Grand Goodbye, Final

Starlight watched quietly as the dinner cleanup proceeded. The party's momentum had wound down, and no one seemed to want to say anything, everyone content to let the good mood linger in the air. Nyala was usually quiet, so that was no news from her, but as Starlight's gaze lingered on Amber and Maple, she couldn't help but feel like they were still talking. Just... without words.

How was she supposed to explain it? Maple and Amber were best friends, and every bit as close as siblings. Starlight couldn't see how they were doing it, but knew it was there, maybe in body signals she could pick up but didn't know how to put words to? That didn't feel like it was it. It was like even just by standing and working together, they were telling each other how long it had been, and other things that couldn't even be summarized in words, let alone said.

The more Starlight watched, the more she realized that goodbye party had just been a preamble. Was this how ponies who really, truly knew each other said farewell, just by being near each other? This hadn't happened the last two times they were parted, when she and Maple left for Ironridge and then the Empire. Or maybe it had, and she just hadn't noticed before.

They looked so peaceful, cleaning up from the meal and doing the dishes. Some of the others were helping too, but they weren't as interesting. Starlight couldn't stop thinking about Maple and Amber, or even look away.

Could goodbyes like this really be this peaceful? Starlight supposed that, somewhere in her unconscious mind, she had made the assumption that since everyone else was less upset about the parting, they didn't care as much as her. Bringing it to the forefront of her thoughts, it was too disrespectful to even think, but assuming it was false left her with the question of why they were so calm about the whole affair. It almost felt worth second-guessing herself, that maybe it was true that she cared more... except watching this now, she could plainly see that the opposite was true. Maple and Amber cared more about each other than she did.

It was hard to think about, seeing there was a perspective greater than her own on her problems, yet being unable to see from it. Starlight remembered being moon glassed, seeing the glows around every pony that varied in intensity, yet made her want them to care about her so badly. It was an intense sensation, yet simple, deep and somehow shallow at the same time, like an urge to stockpile resources because it was a smart or important thing to do. But whatever Maple and Amber were doing? How did you care about someone so much that quietly washing dishes with them was the only way to say goodbye that said everything you needed? Starlight didn't even think she could care about someone that much, and she was already crippled by fear of losing the ponies she did care about.

Maybe this was something you were only able to do when you were older. Maybe there was something her adult friends could understand that she just didn't have the life experience to know yet. Maybe the reason she was aware how much was being unsaid was because she was already growing up.

Starlight didn't want to interrupt it. She just watched, realizing over and over that Maple and Amber had known each other for twice as long as she had been alive, and that for all her trials and worries, these were friends she had known for months at best. Saying goodbye was terrifying because she had been hurt by this before and didn't want to be alone, but Maple and Amber weren't leaving each other alone. They were leaving each other without... each other. For them, it wasn't an issue of putting down roots and hoping their new life would be more stable, and that they could stop saying goodbye. It was an issue of leaving someone they had cared about for their whole lives.

If anything, it was more comparable to losing Sunburst than letting the rest of her friends leave. And yet the only response either of them had for it was to quietly stand and do the dishes together.

Starlight wished she could do that. She wished she was close enough to someone that they could know how she felt without even talking, and that somehow it would make everything alright. Parents, friends... She just wanted anyone. And when she told Maple that she was more like a little sister than a mother to her... that wasn't Maple's fault. They had known each other for less than a year. And as obvious as it was that they cared about each other, Maple and herself, nothing but time could forge the bond of knowing someone all your life.

...Starlight had moved around so much, had so much of her grounding torn away, there wasn't anyone she could know for all her life, because she was still rootless and already this old. She would always be playing catch-up. She thought she wanted more ponies in her life, and that was certainly important, but even one who really knew her and she really trusted would mean more than anything else she knew.

Maple was staying with her. Maple was who she had.

And Maple cared, and... ever since a while ago, she had been making more and more of an effort to put Starlight first. It was an effort Starlight noticed. Maybe it didn't feel like Maple was really her mother yet, but it could in the future, if they stuck together and trusted each other and the world finally became more stable.

Starlight didn't know what she needed, and didn't want to think about it. She just wanted to have whatever Maple and Amber said that let their goodbye be this serene...

Or did she? Even if they could part without crying or trying to fight it, maybe that just meant it hurt even more.

Giving up on understanding it, Starlight slunk behind the couch to hide.

She quickly realized she wasn't the only one there. Valey had dropped the sound stone while flopping about on Shinespark, and it was there as well, still glowing. At the sound of her slinking, it flickered with light. "Someone there?"

"Felicity?" Starlight tilted her head, not sure why she was asking. Who else would it be?

"That's my name," Felicity replied. "What's going on, darling? It's gotten surprisingly muffled out there. Did the party end all at once?"

Starlight's ears folded, and she decided she didn't mind the talking. "Sort of. Valey dropped the sound stone behind a couch. Everyone's cleaning up now. I just found it."

"Dropped behind a couch. Harrumph. I bet she would have thought twice if she was holding a pocket-sized me instead."

Starlight bit her lip. "...Felicity, how are you doing it? Being left all alone?"

"Oh my. I'm not really sure what the most encouraging answer to that would be for a foal, but I shall do my best! I, ah... well..."

Starlight waited patiently.

After a while, Felicity said, "Honestly, I don't think I'm a very good model of healthily coping for you to look up to, Starlight. It involves a lot of counting off days on a calendar and finding ponies who will put up with endless complaints and counter them with encouragement, most of whom are probably being paid to do so. However, I am also bedridden and have a date to look forward to when I might get enough stamina back to use my legs again, and you neither have that to look forward to nor have this problem in the first place. The real way I'm doing it is that the alternative is ceasing to exist. And I can't do that while I have my sisters' legacy to carry on. An empire worth of sarosians', too, as a matter of fact."

"Oh." Starlight nodded, and didn't say anything more.

The sound stone paused for a moment. "You've had the party. Just trying to make it through those last few hours when they're not quite gone yet, but before the ever after?"

Starlight nodded again. "Yeah."

"...On the one hoof," Felicity began, "I feel like I should advise you not to do that. I somewhat buried my head in the sand at our parting, too, and have always found myself wishing for a friendly embrace ever since. I chide myself for not making more of the time while they were here. On the other, I remember well the anticipation of those hours and days. Denial is very sweet, sometimes. At the end of the day, I really don't know what to advise you, though the part of me that wants to be responsible and ignore what things really feel like says to make everything of it that you can."

Starlight's mind drifted back to everything she had just been thinking about Maple and Amber. "Felicity? How old are you?"

"Quite the question to ask a lady. I am thirty-five, for your information. Are you wondering if you can grow out of the pain of parting?"

Starlight sighed and closed her eyes. It had been worth a guess, but age alone apparently wasn't an answer to everything... and that meant that being able to blame this parting's pain on her youth was just a passing fool's dream. "Yes," she admitted. Felicity might not have answers, but she sounded ready to relate.

"You both do and don't," Felicity replied. "It's a funny thing. The very first time I had a significant experience losing something was when I was younger than you are. It was after the Yanavan affair, when my mother lost her faith in the Night Mother and took me out of the mountains to leave monastery life behind and join the exodus to Gyre. Our new home was rather fraught with danger and prevented us from staying in one place for too long, but we figured out who could and couldn't and would and wouldn't protect us, and we survived with a number of bruises and scrapes along the way. I gave my all to our survival, of course. I wanted to hide and be clingy, but I learned how well that worked very quickly."

She took a breath, continuing. "All things considered, I had far more time than I should have been given to process and deal with it. When you're not surviving in Gyre, you're doing precious little else, after all. The second big loss I had, I suppose, was my stepfather. He... Well, we didn't have him anymore before Senescey learned to speak. And that one, if I can be honest? It was easier."

Starlight could practically hear her shaking her head on the other side of the sound stone. "Perhaps I was too wary to grow properly attached to him, after how instantly things had been cut off from Mistvale and how difficult they were afterward. When you can't trust anything but yourself, how can you trust your friends? That said, he was strong. He protected us, and I learned all that I could from him. Certainly, I missed him, but part of that was missing what he could have been in a better life, and another part was missing the material things he did for us. By then, though, I had learned Mistvale arts from him, and was strong enough that I could defend us, myself and my mother and Senescey. From there, it was just a long road of doing everything I could to look out for my family. Losing my mother after that? My physical health and ability? My sisters? You and your friends? It was just more chipping away at everything I had made myself to survive. I don't know if this helps you, Starlight, or if it does anything to answer your question, because even if it does hurt less I can't say whether that's for the right reasons."

"Thanks," Starlight mumbled. "You sound kind of like me."

"Glad I could be relatable, I suppose?"

Starlight looked at the floor. Maybe she should have paid more attention to Felicity from the beginning? With everything put this way, it sounded like she had suffered some of the same problems as Starlight. It also sounded like she was the oldest member of the party, and still hadn't found answers. In fact, she had arguably found the worst fate of them all: left behind without even Maple, utterly disabled and reliant on others, and somehow still with a foal who would depend on her.

Imagining this fate visited on her, too, was unthinkable. Without Maple? Without the powers she counted on to keep everything safe? She probably really would do what Felicity was doing, and lay in a bed and rely wholly on others to survive.

And yet... was it really that different? Maple was trying to be the dependable one, but Starlight knew if anything did happen, it would be her keeping her friend safe yet again. But this was also a new life, where she was trying to be normal. She was trying to hang up her sword and leave what she could do behind, ever since she used the Nightmare Module and turned her back on knowledge in the crystal palace.

Starlight squeezed her eyes shut. "Thanks," she squeaked.

"I know it's hard," Felicity replied. "But for what it's worth, I did go through it all and survive. Not comfortably, not even remotely, but I've still got enough spite left over my situation to keep me going, if nothing else. And I do think maybe there's a brighter future somewhere over the horizon. Still, if there does ever happen to be anything I can do to keep you from following in these hoofsteps, you mustn't hesitate to ask. Give it enough time, and perhaps myself and my foal will even be able to come rendezvous with you up there in Sires Hollow. Begin getting the band back together even before our friends finish their writ-gathering, hmm?"

...Starlight let out a breath. She could do this. She wasn't alone. She wouldn't believe anyone who told her this would be easier than the first time, and she didn't know how to do it serenely, or with grace, but the world was going to take away her friends and she was going to let it happen. She wasn't going to fight it. She wasn't going to run away.

This was her life. She could do it. She wasn't ready, and there was no way for her to change that, but she would get back on her hooves afterward and slowly rebuild her life here, piece by shattered piece with Maple at her side.

She could do it.

She could do it.

She could do it.

Starlight took one more deep breath. She believed in herself. She would take this last night and hold her friends as close as equinely possible, and in the morning, when it was all over and time for it to end... she would let go.

She would let them go across the mountains, beyond where she could reach. She would hinge their reunion on their own abilities to do the impossible, something she had only ever done herself, and never even trusted herself to do... except her friends had sometimes done it too. They could do it. They could come back to her, and they would. Everything would be okay.

...She didn't know what else to tell herself. Swallowing a huge lump in her throat, she said goodnight to Felicity and left to climb the stairs, the last few steps that would carry her into the future.

Comments

[Phoenix Kitten]

I did go through it all and survive. Not comfortably, not even remotely, but I've still got enough spite left over my situation to keep me going, if nothing else.

Hmm... continuing out of spite, and with Starlight's drive, she can certainly do that.

31.
13.

[Oberth Effect]

Was this how ponies who really, truly knew each other said farewell, just by being near each other?

That's certainly a very strong kind of friendship --- when you're happy just being in the presence of your friend. It also means that words just won't do for a farewell.

Nice to see Felicity helping Starlight deal with saying goodbye.

[Boopers]

Oh no, it's going to happen very soon, is it? Almost everyone will be gone in just a few moments. Terrifying.

When I'm getting absorbed into stories like this, occasionally I'm getting quite oblivious to the fact that all the characters I'm just reading about are horsies, as long as it doesn't matter for the current scene.

as close as equinely possible

Or until I get abruptly reminded about it :D Heh, I love those horsy words.

Oh, she's climbing the stairs. I'm really afraid about what Jamjars might have done to her room and Fluffy's sketchbook in the meantime.