Fall of the Alicorns

by Rara

03- Self-Reflection and Self-Esteem

Disclaimer: CC Cover art and all written material within is intellectual property of user Persianjuliet, and may not be used without consent of the author.

My Little Pony and all related characters are property of Hasbro and Lauren Faust.

Song: The Day I Turned To Glass by Honeycut

We camped on the shore that night. I set up the tent with Low’s assistance- It had only taken him minutes to start a passable fire, and then he turned his attention to my pitiful attempt at pitching the canvas mess that was meant to be a tent. By that time he was mostly dry, and his temper was back to normal. He grabbed a falling pole with his blue-tinged magic, chuckling. “I guess you won’t be getting a Cutie Mark for camping, then.”

With a flash of amber magic, I snatched the pole back and adjusted it huffily. “If it was that easy to find out, I wouldn’t be going to Canterlot.”

Seeing me upset, he wasn’t apologetic as I expected. When reminded of my “problem”, everypony usually changed the subject or awkwardly tried to make me feel better. Low, however, just rolled his eyes and moved the pole to its proper position. “Oh, lighten up. A tent-pitching Cutie Mark would be pretty pathetic, so it’s just as well that you’re rubbish at it.”

He noted my venomous glare, remarking “Auntie should have called you Evil Eyes. Your face will get stuck like that, don’t you know?”

My lips pressed into a tight, angry line, I whirled and stalked away. Low called after me, but I was fuming. I stalked stiff-legged into the trees, away from the lazy river and the glow of the gibbous moon now rising over it.

The sparse pine forest was young and thin, unlike the crowded old growth of my home. I felt a longing for the towering giants, the comforting bearded evergreens that loomed like wise old giants. Here I was walking on crackling yellow grass, not loam and pine needles. It was startling, the difference between the short distance we had traversed. I wondered with trepidation how strange to land around the capitol must be. Was it a cactus-filled desert, or a vine-filled jungle? It must be exotic and strange.

My eyes filled with tears at the thought, and I swiped at them angrily with a hoof. Who in the world gets homesick for trees? I demanded of myself. I should be missing my family and- well. My family, at least.

But at the thought of my family, I felt nothing but weary, half-hearted affection and a growing indifference. My family had never paid much attention to me, and I could return no more affection than they gave me. My father, Top Notch, and my mother, Silver Platter, were good folks, but they were preoccupied with the restaurant. I was always a distraction, never a daughter. Just as with my classmates, I was pushed to the back of their minds and never spared a second thought. Yet I might have believed that to be their fault, and not mine, but they treated my brothers as shining prodigies. They were twins- Well Read and Well Fed. Read liked math and business, while Fed delighted in cuisine. My parents intended for them to take over the family business, leaving no thought and no place for me. It rankled constantly, and was a sore spot that I did not like to be reminded of.

No, I didn’t miss my family in the least. I was ashamed to find no deep feelings of loyalty and love in my heart, only bitterness and regret. I didn’t want to go home- but the idea of Canterlot scared me. I felt as if the whole world was trying to squeeze me out of existence. I was an anomaly, a nopony that shouldn’t be alive.

With a flutter of my yellow-feathered wings, I rose to the top of the nearest tree. Perched on the swaying branches, I raised my eyes to the soft, forgiving light of the moon. It swam like a reflection in a pond, and I realized the whole world was blurred and indistinct through my tears. They softened the sharp line of trees, and turned the river into a blanket of reflected starlight. I let the tears fall freely then, and by the time I heard soft wingbeats approach and felt a warm, heavy body settle next to mine, I was too far gone to care.

Low Tide was silent for a long time. It was cold, and occasionally a breeze would cut through the treetops, but he didn’t move. Finally, when the tears were drying to a salty sheen on my cheeks, he spoke. “I know you don’t have friends in Branbury, and I know our family has been pretty terrible to you. I’m sorry. I’m especially sorry I haven’t been able to be there for you.”

I looked at him. I felt empty and exhausted, as always happens after a long cry. I felt drained. “Why would you need to be there for me?”

He shrugged, that characteristic “I dunno” shrug of his. “You’re family, silly filly. I don’t want to see you upset, even if I do tease you. You’re my cousin, and besides- you’re always gonna be important to me.”

“Why?”

“Don’t you know? If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t have my Cutie Mark. You were there for that, and I’ll always remember it.”

I was silent for a minute before replying. I had never thought of it that way before, but he was right. If it wasn’t for me… I smiled. “I guess there’s one pony whose life would be changed for the worse if I had never been born. Thanks, Low. That means more than you know.”

He ruffled my head affectionately. A few stray hairs came loose from the careful braid I used to keep my long mane and tail in check. I shoved him playfully, and we both nearly fell out of the tree.

Low Tide leaned back and stared at the sky reflectively. “I wonder if she’s looking at the moon too…” he mused. I placed a comforting hoof over his.

“I bet she is. And thinking about you, too.”

He smiled gratefully. “All right, kid. Enough sad-sack nonsense. I’ve got dinner ready, and it’s freezing up here.”

My stomach growled loudly as I thought of food. “What’s for dinner?”

“Porpoise eyeballs and pine needles.” He replied promptly. I shoved him off his branch, but he snapped out his wings and glided to the ground. I followed.

“That’s disgusting, you know.” I informed my chuckling cousin.

“Maybe, but it’s nutritious.”

Laughing, we walked side by side back to the camp. I only saw him glance over his shoulder at the shimmering moon once, an inscrutable look in his aquamarine eyes.

After that first night, our progress was speedy and largely uninterrupted. I was unused to constant flight, and the power-flapping wore me out. I complained about this the second night as we set up camp, but Low proved unsympathetic.

“I’m not a goose, I’m an alicorn. Marathons are definitely not my thing.” Perhaps I was whining, but my wings ached as they hadn’t done since my foalhood days of flight training. “Not to mention carrying all of this luggage. How do you possibly expect us to make it there by tomorrow night?”

Low didn’t seem bothered by my complaints. “Oh, you think your wings hurt now? Just wait until the return stretch, with a nice headwind blowing you back. Of course, I’m used to it by now, but I remember the first few times being terrible.”

His tone was practically jovial, and I frowned deeply.

“I see now. You must be part-goose yourself. No pony would be so flip after a full day’s flight.”

He chewed his lip reflectively, thinking hard. His eyes were narrowed as they met mine, but I saw a twinkle in them.

“You’re right. I must be a- HOOONK!”

I jumped, flaring my wings as my cousin let out a startlingly loud noise. He fell to his side laughing and clutching his stomach as I attempted to recover my scattered dignity. “That wasn’t funny.” I snipped, although the sight of him so delighted by his own joke made the corner of my mouth twitch, just a little.

“It was very funny, silly filly.” He corrected. He reclined back on his forelegs, apparently perfectly comfortable on the grass at my feet. I nudged him with one disdainful hoof.

“You’re so foalish.”

He winked. “I never denied it, Wide Eyes.”

I sighed heavily and sat down. “You didn’t even sound like a goose. You sounded more like a duck.”

He was indignant. “I did not! That was a perfectly respectable goose-call.”

I hid my smile behind a hoof. “A sick duck.”

He huffed. “Good enough to get you, anyway.”

We laughed together for a time, and the novel sensation of having somepony to laugh together with felt like a warm blanket, or a comforting fire inside me. I had never thought about how loneliness felt, before now. It had always been a part of me, but I realized that night that loneliness was cold. I had been cold all my life, and the companionship that I had with Low Tide was like the touch of sun on an icebound mountain. I had a taste of friendship, and it threw my entire solitary existence into painfully stark relief. I can still remember the feeling, and the taste of it is bittersweet even now.

Comments

[ThisIsMe95R]

Wow this is good I can't wait for the rest please update this as often as you can.

[epicdonus1123 BOT]

I'd like to prove that Discord isn't even an alicorn, and their not called alicorns, for that is the tissue that horns are made of. Either the tissue, or the horn itself, but whatever! The proper term is pegacorn, unisus, or unipeg! It depends on where your from, and lastly, everpony knows that Discord is a draconequus.

[Rara]

1226168
Will do! And thank you so much, I've never written a fanfic before

[Rara]

1226185
Well yes, he IS a draconequus. I never said he was an alicorn...

[epicdonus1123 BOT]

1226198 Haven't read the story, sorry for the misinterpretation.

[Rara]

1226206
That's ok. Why don't you read it and leave some feedback.

[redactedandredacted]

1226206 Why on earth did you comment on a story you hadn't read, to correct a mistake that was never made?

Aaaaanyways, my thoughts at this point are that your feels aren't quite resonating with me. This is likely because you're describing how much life sucks for Bright, but we don't actually get to witness any of that firsthand. She may be exaggerating (as victims sometimes do), for all the reader knows. It borders on angsty when you do it like that.

Aside from that, fun stuff. I like the porpoises. I guess I should have mentioned that in the last chapter. Whatever.