The Trinity of Moons: Mending Shards

by Cloud Ring

Chapter 6: Movement

Cursory Streak's cutie mark

☄☄☄

Cursory Streak always loved Metropolis, and the feeling was mutual. She was flying over the avenues to the horizon with four-colored blinking of streetlights and airlights, high arches over the streets. There she was, entering a dive, folding her wings, rushing between the black-gray walls, and rising again to a Moon, closer to the Net.

Most often it was White Moon, according to Cursory’s chosen alignment and thus phase of the cycle. She was too much of a sleepyhead to see the others often. She liked to bask in Her ghost-fiery brilliance, listen to the wind, catch a message or three sent by other pegasi on distant winds,

“Better to meet after the Conjunction—”

“—no, wait, how long?”

“—derrock a tornado is born again—”.

Then she often liked to visit agricultural sectors and water areas, to play with the clouds, either giving foals a ride on them or making rain for the locals.

She avoided flying over the Forest; The Forest is there / and all winding trails / are waiting to seize you, as it had been sung once.

A third of the cycle later, at the end of the phase, as a habit she would end that nonstop flight and drop to a cloud bed knowing for sure that Metropolis was there for her, stretched in all Her immensity for half of the continent. Knowing that Metropolis heard and saw Cursory, and would remain there forever for her.

That was her youth, and she liked Metropolis still.

But now, sitting in the tight capsule of the aviette, side by side with the cowering earth pony, Cursory was working on a different issue, by other methods. Not ones she preferred but… well, that was interesting.

The fact that Gentle Touch is alive was a contradiction in itself. First, she got a burn of the Red. A deadly one, judging by the sheer area of the coat too pale on her right side, with a shape of a window frame clearly seen on it. Cursory looked up the name through the aviette’s terminal, and sure enough, found Gentle among the to-be-casualties of an infusion of the Red, tagged with “patient arrived in living ghost state.”

That was leaving only direct intervention of a Moon as a possible reason why Gentle Touch is even alive now. And this intervention was listed there too, hidden from a casual glance, visible to Cursory with her tech access… with all details, once again, classified. Still, a Moon was there, and She said… something to be kept secret?

That would not be weird enough by itself. But Gentle had been closing her eyes too often, her head tilting too far forward, and there was a subtle shine of a blue web on her pinkish irises once she did open her eyes—

Cursory had seen exactly these signs before, even if at first she did not want to believe she now saw them in Gentle Touch. These signs and what they meant were a serious concern at a societal level, albeit a rare enough one that your average pony would not be in the know about it. All the same, these signs — as well as others that were dangerous enough to have an assigned threat level — were highly suggestive of an unfortunate end for whoever exhibited them. Or, to be precise, an eventual, unpleasant meeting with a team of Resolvers that happened to be immune to a particular misused ability.

Often, a Moon personally asked for similar issues to be resolved. In Gentle Touch's case, it seemed, a Moon had saved her life instead. With a note marking her “Mostly harmless.”

On top of that, they were flying to 12-S, and nopony, however problematic they were, deserved to get lost there. Cursory knew that, first-hoof experience. And Gentle was not even problematic, now.

A designation, and, much more importantly, Gentle's will to follow on it, meant they could not back away from 12-S either.

So. If Moons kept her alive and felt no need to contain her in advance, I will follow along and keep her safe. And believe that she is harmless, Cursory finally decided, sighing and putting the terminal away.

She turned around to look at the earth pony.

She actually liked Gentle, and knew that. That was not making the choice much easier. But at least “guard and protect” had been her main chosen aspect, effortless to follow on.

“Do you mind sharing what your aspect and profession are? I can deduce where you learned the language by how you speak, so Great Desert, but on the edge or in habitable places deeper in? Do you still live there? I've been there myself, actually, both on the job and just for personal travel. I have to say the weather was quite extreme.” Cursory asked, smiling.

“Yes,” Gentle was clearly distracted, fearful of being so high off the ground. “I was born there, and I returned there after my unbound age. At the edge of a desert, not too deep in. My friends lived deeper, though. Was lucky to get under the Red not even a luster after returning home. A few cycles after a celebration. Well, at least I had a celebration.”

“Please don’t take it as a forced compliment,” Cursory said slowly, “but… there are two obvious things. First, no need to say you got under the ray. It’s… right there. Second one, you are genuinely pretty, with or without this—”

“I know,” Gentle nodded. “My face and mane are intact. I know that at worst I am okay. But I don’t think many would choose me anyway.”

“Those who would, will be good and loyal ponies for you. I simply know that!” Cursory smiled reassuringly. “Or maybe it will be you who does the choosing. Just don’t be shy of this nuance, and no harm will be done.”

Gentle giggled quietly, and replied, “Thanks. I will say my aspects, but you go first, okay?”

Cursory nodded, “Pathways and defense. With this set—yes, don’t ask, mixed Moons. Please, just don’t ask, it’s too long a story—I was bound to work there, in resolving issues of the lost and strayed, at the center of Metropolis where it is needed the most. You?”

“Medicine,” Gentle Touch sighed, “Blue Moon—”

“Helped you. What’s your second aspect? I can invite you in our team, we need good medics more often than you’d think.”

“I did not say I have a second aspect,” Gentle whispered, her pink eyes opened wide.

"Please excuse me… I mean, nothing bad if you happen to have another one—"

Cursory stopped. It was clear that Gentle went defensive, and she was not an issue, so not a single reason to call her out on a lie. Even if it was obvious that Gentle does hide her second aspect. So Cursory went from another angle instead, "I understand that this is a sensitive question. Sorry. I know how aspects might be conflicting. That happens. And, just in case if you are Herald too, I don't know if you are," she paused, "I have nothing against us. One Moon or another, we have many things in common. Please, don't be afraid."

Gentle nodded, once, and smiled, "I accept your apology. It is a sensitive topic for me.”

The conversation died from there, so Cursory curled up on the seat — too hard and prickly compared to the clouds — and returned to the crossword puzzle. A pilot did not bother them with any talking, the destination set close to the borders of 12-S.

Her mind slowly drifted away from the puzzle a third of a slice later. The aviette swayed side to side in silence. Under Cursory’s shut eyelids blank report forms wandered on her table at the police station. The habitable place of the Great Desert was an ‘oasis’, five letters across. Gentle's warmth and her deep, even breathing were felt and heard from the next chair... wonder if I could come closer… and how would that ‘oasis’ be written in Lunar...

☄☄☄

“Cursory! Cursory Streak, please wake up!”

She waved to sway away the persistent worried voice, trying to hold the dream just a little bit more. In the dream there was something important, somewhere to fly right here, in this instant, but she could not remember where and with each beat the memory slipped farther away.

“Oh, I just…”, she tried to say, but said nothing.

Without waking up, Cursory caught the air with her wings, climbed higher, made a couple of turns, and only then realized that there were no more obstacles either on the sides or above. She tried to open her eyes, but they denied the attempt.

“Have we arrived?” she said, but in fact managed only something of a questioning mumble rather than coherent words.

Fortunately, Gentle Touch understood.

“Yes, for a long time already. Six slices at the very least, and you are still asleep!”

Cursory Streak tried to open her eyes again. They still did not obey, but her wings kept a steady rhythm, and her magnetic sense gave an indicative signal: Yes, we are almost there, sector S is nearby. You just can’t confuse these uniform interferences with anything else...

“I will be with you shortly... maybe one third of a slice more... The bag...?” she muttered.

“I have the bag. It’s intact, I didn’t look into it.”

“Mhm... Leave it on the ground, now. And how did you pull me outside that I did not…” Cursory yawned wide, unable to finish the question.

Anyway, the answer did not come.

⊛⊛⊛

Nine steps away Gentle Touch watched the pegasus preening in the diffuse light of White Moon. They were in a field, not so far from the road. Gentle lay on her side in the thick whitish grass. Cursory Streak used two properly clouded mirrors on a flexible holder, three different brushes in turn and a bottle with an unknown aerosol.

This was more than just caring for her feathers and cleaning out sweat; Cursory did not stop the process until literally every strand of her mane was exactly in its place and became exactly the right shade of purple or white. She was not as sleek in the restaurant as she aimed to be now. Gentle was hardly distracted from this performance even by the carriages’ noise on the road to the side and above them.

Earlier, when the aviette was already set on the return course disappearing into the distance, and Cursory still refused to wake up, Gentle made sure that her slumber was not caused by illness or fatigue, but something yet was wrong with it. She did not get what exactly, and the images of the dream disturbed Gentle. Flying in a pinkish-scarlet fog, the voice of ocean waves or a heart beating, no land under hooves however long to fall, a salty and bitter smell...

More than a slice had passed for sure, but finally the pegasus chuckled with satisfaction and went up to Gentle.

“Well, we can go ahead. Are the glasses ready?” Cursory asked.

“Yes,” Gentle held out the case in her front hooves. “But are you sure? White Moon is already at bow; this is no longer your phase.”

Cursory glanced up at the sky and smiled reassuringly, “Don't even worry. I usually don’t sleep in my phase, but when this happens, I’m able to hold up and through my next one. For now, I’ll not say that I slept well, but I’ll manage; I’m a little tougher than you think. But... don't you know what I was dreaming about?”

Gentle alerted herself, and asked warily, “What do you mean?”

Cursory tried to hide a smile, without much success, “They say Blue Moon's Heralds are able to dreamwalk, and I dreamed of something important — and forgotten! — and there are three options. Either you aren’t Herald after all, which is unlikely, or you have no curiosity at all, or— or you do know what I have dreamed of!”

Gentle pulled her legs under her, squeaked, but pulled herself together and replied in a calm tone, “Firstly, I was advised not to enter other ponies’ dreams. Even assuming I could. Secondly, if the dream was important or sent by a Moon, it would be remembered. Thirdly, I think you have become too close with me, reputable Cursory Streak.”

The pegasus immediately pressed her hoof to her chest, and tilted her head a bit. “Please forgive me, as I overstepped, and I will not make the mistake again. Of course, your secrets are your secrets only. But just so you know — I'm so very curious about what it's like to be under Blue Moon.”

Gentle did not answer at once. Only when they had already climbed the slope to the road, she breathed out, “To know more than I want to. That’s what it’s like.”

She asked for help with opening the case, and putting on the glasses: heavy, with rough clips, dark lenses and an elastic strap to wrap around her head; barely warm when touched, imposing the feeling of a live body during biting frost. Greetings, reputable Herald Gentle Touch, a disembodied voice whispered. Ready to chart your route. Remember that S sectors are not recommended for your stay.

☄☄☄ ⊛⊛⊛

When they crossed the border of sector 12-S — two warning signs in advance, but after them only a barely marked white line on solid ground — Gentle took two steps, stopped and sank to the ground.

Cursory moved to her, covered her with a wing. “What's wrong, dear?”

She didn’t pull away, despite her bravado only a slice ago. Sobbing, she said, “Nothing… I see nothing... but… but… these stars…!”

Cursory looked up at the sky. White Moon, still partly above the horizon, was a barely outlined translucent circle. Blue Moon, at hail, was also barely noticeable. Not Moons as They should be but Their faint contours, reflections and echoes. But merciless stars were shining fiercely like a scattering of diamonds on a dark fabric, completely still as if there was no air at all.

“Oh, yes, of course,” she said quietly. “We are in sector S. I have said already that only locals are comfortable here. This place is not broken but for us it very well might be.”

But Gentle kept sobbing quietly under the sky — cubic nines of brightest, impossibly colorful, sparkling stars in the sky that was nonetheless hopelessly black.

Everything that happened below had no meaning to the black sky, for which there was no time, no aspirations, and no needs and worries associated with them. One could just lie there for all eternity. Maybe, after a time the pony would weightlessly soar up and join the endless tribe of heavenly fires, powerless to dispel the darkness.

Cursory took a deep breath and looked for the White's quivering warmth in her own chest. She caught the reminiscence of Her light, Her power, Her fire; remembered how impeccable Cursory was and how she appreciated and took care of herself and others. She spread her wings, noticed their pearly radiance by the corner of her eye, and pushed away the oppressive gloom from Gentle and herself. It’s still you, my dear? This is still a part of you, am I right? Cursory directed her thoughts at Metropolis, but the answer was indistinct.

“Come on, dear. Let's go. You have the designation, and I’m your guard. So let's go.”

“What do you mean? I did not ask for any guard, did I?” Gentle tried to object weakly; but Cursory nodded as if there was no question.

“If you want to get to your designation, you will need my protection. I'll go ahead.”

Cursory took a few steps forward and paused. “Well?” she asked.

And so they went deeper in.

Comments

[Cloud Ring]

Minor retcon/expanding on the doubles cutie marks in the chapter 2, to stay in accord with upcoming chapter 7.

Sorry about that. I understand this can be frustrating.

Also you can find Gentle Touch's cutie mark at the start of chapter 4 now.

[Numinos]

Soooooo, time for wild guesses.

Three moons you say. And not because Nightmare Moon won... So it's either past, future, or just AU. In my headcanon Celestia's Sun is already some glorified artificial satellite light-bulb, dim the light, and hey, it's a moon : ) Sooo, if it's mandatory here to have celestial body per alicorn (are local Princesses are alicorns actually?) then they have some new princess and decided to make a new one. Or they're appearing at the same time.

But, giant Metropolis, strange capitalized Forest... Interesting.

[Cloud Ring]

10630761
They are alicorns, and each of them has an correlating Moon too; ponies of Metropolis do almost no verbal distinction between stellar body and the alicorn in naming. But, as a somewhat vulgar, low-style vocabulary, nicknames — mostly in faraway sectors or by Heralds of that exact Moon (not of an other one, that would be an insult) can be used too; they can be named as

'Electra' (Black Moon), 'Desire' (Blue Moon) and 'Flame' (White Moon).

Said nicknames are restricted for alicorns specifically, and used for Moons only rarely and only as possessive. Electra's eye, for example. Or Desire's heart. Or Flame's burn.

[Cloud Ring]

10630761
Also.
Past, future or just AU? Good question, actually.
Time is relative, you know. In the most literal sense in this story.
Even if I really would like to reply definitely (which I do not, not for this question), I would not be able to, without long and windy exposition of what exactly and how exactly (and when exactly, for that matter) happened there in a different way.
I would recommend to look for 'how the world feels overall', rather than objective truth.
There IS this precise truth and correct reply for the question, don't worry. But it's too early for it to be revealed :)

For now, I say that it does not even matter much.

But anyway, good question!

[Chatoyance]

The capital 'F' Forest must be the Everfree in some form, dangerous as it always is. I am utterly baffled as to where we are; Equestria, Virtual Equestria, or something far stranger, but we have techology, we have apparent magic, we have uncanny terms and language that bespeaks a culture far removed from what we know. But more so, we seemingly have levels of perception of reality itself, which appears differently to different characters, and affects them on a fundamental way.

Very enigmatic.