The Trinity of Moons: Mending Shards

by Cloud Ring

Chapter 19: Flying

☄☄☄

This was not the first time the pegasus carried a live load. But Solid Line was a remarkably undemanding passenger compared to a few of Cursory's former clients, let alone to the occasional resisting captive. She clung tight to Cursory's back, making sure to stay within the field of the windshield, and trying to avoid shifting her centre of mass. The windshield, once recalled, did not disappear on its own.

So, if Solid even had been a weight on her back, then only in the most literal sense. And even then — a light one, almost weightless. Less than the average adult pegasus; almost a foal.

“This is not the fastest way,” Solid Line said quietly, while Cursory cut through the still air — more than two slices at comfortable cruising speed, adjusted for the state of her left wing after the poisoning. In Metropolis they would have made a notable, albeit small, streak on Her map — three nines of such ranges would be enough to cross Metropolis from the ocean to the wild lands where the audience with Melody did not quite happen. Six zeroes, if you write down the distance counting in steps; four zeroes in throws; two zeroes in stages; one range — the distance that a pegasus is expected to cover in one cycle.

Any healthy adult pegasus, that is. Cursory did not consider herself just ‘any’ pegasus. Still, it was hard to imagine such distances being compressed within the interior of one tiny black tower in the middle of nowhere.

She did not bother recalling the distance units of other Moons. Her thoughts wandered freely, from her home to the station — Cursory missed it, but she knew that her skillful friends would manage without her help — then in an instant they went to the ocean. The image of the ocean followed her during the last few cycles. It was always there, even before that; she just got an opportunity to see it lately. Slow waves, dim plankton glow, stars around and in the depths...

"This is not the fastest way," these Solid Line’s first words after a long time did not immediately reach the consciousness of the pegasus.

Cursory Streak was not even sure these were the first ones. The coordinated beats of wings and magic, with her left wing being off, required heavy concentration, and until now Solid did nothing to break it.

“What?” Cursory Streak began to slow down by gradually allowing the incoming air through the windshield. If it were her real wingpony, she would be angry — you just don’t keep these suggestions to yourself; but Solid Line was a pony of the past, and did break the customs a few times already without even noticing.

“I thought that you needed to think and calm down. If you are calm and collected now, I can perform a jaunt to a destination for us both,” Solid Line said in monotone.

No, not really calm.

“If it's faster, then please, whatever suits you,” Cursory replied, quiet, as if speaking to a foal.

“Multiply 17 by 52?” Solid Line suggested.

“By the lunar numbers?”

“Of course.”

“Cubic nine... no square nines… two nines… and five.” Cursory counted. Lunar symbols were brighter in their mind than usual, and the multiplying grid appeared glowing.

Cursory was unsure of the answer; but she understood that the process was more important than the result; and, besides, these few beats woke her up from a flying trance.

“Acceptable. Please close your eyes,” Solid Line asked.

“For what?” Cursory heard that there was no rudeness in Solid's voice. But there was also no tone shift reserved specifically for such requests.

“It is impossible to perform a jaunt while somepony is watching.”

Cursory Streak nodded and started to descend.

"No. We should keep flying. We should have a way and a destination," Solid Line made a tiny, insisting stomp.

“But… okay. If we crash to our deaths, next time I'm not flying you anywhere!” The joke turned out to be somewhat gloomy, but honest.

She closed her eyes and nothing happened. Nothing continued to happen. And it still didn't go on. No voice, no breath, no wind, no beating of wings. A long moment in which there were only four questions.

Who are you? Where are you from? Where are you now? Where are you bound?

An entity which used to call itself Cursory Streak answered these questions:

Cursory Streak, Metropolis, the soul vault, rescue Gentle Touch.

Wrong, the reply came from nowhere. From inside of Cursory or from outside void, she did not know.

She tried to repeat the answer, but in a mute horror realized that she did not remember the words that had just been her reply.

The void had been waiting.

Pegasus, from home, in flight, through the portal.

Wrong, the reply came again.

She continued to go over the answers, and with each answer more words got lost, and it was impossible to remember them.

Wrong.
Wrong.
Wrong.

There was less and less of herself. Nothing around and nothing inside.

Another voice appeared nearby, slightly to the side. Harsh, raspy, confident, almost her own.

Words, with a heavy sigh between answers, long pauses too. Like a pony making an effort to recall how sounds are made trying to speak.

Rainbow... from above... next to a friend... Twi...

Time passed. There was no answer.

The world flared up, bright to a blinding point even through closed eyelids. They were still there, in the soul vault. A whirlwind of lost words and knowledge surrounded Cursory, closed in on her and filled her. Names, colors, ranks and routes. Favorite dishes, flight techniques, subtle smells of perfumes and a sharp, frightening one — the smell of the 'Guiding Starfall-TX' modifier. She only used it twice, and was resolute not to ever touch it for the third time.

And songs, of course. All the songs of the world, from that sickeningly gleeful hit about the Forest, through the changeable rhythmic melodies of her foalhood, to the opera in the faraway sectors, titled "The Perishment of Moon".

She was on the commission that evaluated the health of the creators and the suitability of the opera to a wider audience. Because the commission was in a deadlock eventually broken by a victory by a single vote, Cursory liked to believe that her vote was the decisive one; that she all by herself kept the opera recommended for a wide range of consumers.

Cursory didn't know how much time had passed. Once she exhaled, “Never… ever… do this again,"

...the memory kept returning.

And it kept flowing in.

💎💎💎

... pulling pain in the chest, and even the deepest breath was sometimes not enough; this has been going on for too many rounds, but a pony can get used to it ... but what was worse: magic blinked and flickered, and even so only up to three needles now, not the nine of her youth...

But my darling, this is too dangerous... We have already discussed this. We know that we will die before you... I already have in mind which dresses would do for different stages of grief while you will say goodbye. They will help you calm down and let us go.

There was no next breath.

☄☄☄

It kept flowing in.

🌩🌩🌩

... the air disperses in a blast wave of unbearable colors. They cannot be imprinted

💎💎💎

neither in fabric nor in jewelry. Only to look and remember, to keep in such a way as to remember even after death.

🌩🌩🌩

I don't need to get out of the dive this time.

💎💎💎🌩🌩🌩

This time, the last gift for the Princess is given.

☄☄☄

Cursory Streak already forgot this.

Please remember us… a loose thought drowned in the ocean; a sliver of a dream astral and lace.

Cursory Streak shook her head, wiped away her tears with a fetlock, "Solid Line, please, no matter what, never again do that to us… to me."

Why am I crying? Who (are we) am I?

The unicorn replied dryly, “The prerequisite components for a jaunt have been expended. Another one would require a change in team composition and a different jaunt-path, among other things. I cannot promise to not jaunt anymore though. I know it’s hard for you, but it is the only way to come back from the meeting, and there might be other circumstances that will warrant the use of this tool."

Cursory tuned the last third of the speech out. She looked around and saw it.

Over the dome on the table a nine or so steps away the air itself slowly, irregularly, pulsed scarlet red.

Comments

[Cloud Ring]

Note that for reasons triple and double nines retconned to cubic and square ones.

[Numinos]

Oh, wow, lore stuff! Glimpses to some past events, Rememberance vibes, all that stuff : ) Interesting to see if Elements reincarnated as I think (and to whom I think)

Great chapter, please do continue : )