Mapping Manehattan

by The Red Parade

navigating

Lightning doesn’t know where they’re going. She’s just following Fiddle at this point. Because Fiddle is an amazing navigator, and not just because she has a great sense of direction. Fiddle seems to know exactly where she’s going, physically and mentally. To Lightning, that’s amazing.

Lightning asks Fiddle to tell her a story. Lightning’s bored. Maybe one about her family?

Family. Fiddle pauses at that. She hasn’t heard from her family in a long time. She hopes they’re doing well.

They probably are, Lightning thinks. The major cities may have collapsed, but the smaller ones might have survived. Maybe.

Fiddlesticks sighs. She doesn’t want to think about that right now. They continue onwards. Even as she tries to block them out, the thoughts infiltrate her mind. She remembers Braeburn and his infectious smile. She remembers Apple Fritter, a silent and shy mare who was a genius in the kitchen.

She misses them. She misses her house, miles and miles away now. In a dusty little town on the edge of nowhere. Fiddle would give anything to be there now.

Fiddle could leave. It would be a long walk, sure, but eventually she’d get there. But she has a job to do. A promise to keep. With a nod, she pushes forwards. Manehattan is waiting for them.

Lightning is hesitant though. She asks if Fiddle is okay.

That confuses her. Of course she’s okay. Why wouldn’t she be? Lightning puts a hoof on her withers. She points to the dilapidated buildings around them. This is no way to live. This is not the life they were supposed to have.

Fiddle knows this. So does Lightning. But Lightning misses their old life. Every day she feels sad, thinking of all the friends who aren’t there any more. In the old days she would never admit this, but there’s no point in lying to herself now.

Lightning admires Fiddle for being strong. But she doesn’t expect Fiddle to be strong forever. She doesn’t expect Fiddle to be immortal, never feeling pain.

She’s quiet for a long time. There’s no sound around them as the wind blows through their manes. Fine, she admits. She’s not okay. She misses her family, her friends, her home…

Fiddle doesn’t even live in Manehattan. She had no reason to be here, other than to try out for that stupid orchestra. She’s never liked cities. Fiddle’s a mare of the country.

Lightning knows. She doesn’t live here either. But they could leave.

That makes Fiddle sigh. There’s no point in leaving. Not when all of Equestria is like this. The old world is long gone. It isn’t just hiding in a basement somewhere, waiting to be found. It was gone. Forever.

She misses it. Fiddle remembers the simple things they took for granted, like fresh food and scheduled weather. Cars and taxis. Heaters and air conditioning. Hot showers. Telephones. Electricity. Friends. Movies. Television. Everything.

But it’s not a total loss. They have each other, and for now that’s enough.