The Morning After
A slow, gentle breeze wafted through the air, caressing the face and blowing through the multicolored mane of a little blue pegasus mare. She smiled as she felt the wind beneath her lazily flapping wings, instinctively angling them back to propel herself further upwards. The cool kiss of the air was a welcome feeling on that warm spring evening, one of the last she was likely to feel before the imminent coming of summer. She reveled in it, committing that refreshing sensation to memory so that she could hold onto it long after it had gone.
Gazing upward, she saw the dark blanket of the night sky sprinkled with bright, shining stars so numerous that she lacked the patience to count them all. Nestled amongst them, a burning beacon surrounded by mere candles, was the moon, its pale light shining down to guide her way. An invisible line ran across its cratered surface, cleanly bisecting it; one half shone brightly, the other was enveloped in shadow.
Turning her gaze downward, she pored over the landscape that heavenly sphere illuminated. Not too far below her, she could see the thatched roofs and the smokey chimneys of Ponyville's homes, and the brightly lit windows that gave glimpses of the lives going on within those walls. She saw a cute little filly lying in bed, lovingly clutching a stuffed animal while she listened to her mother tell her a bedtime story. She saw a group of gruff stallions sitting around a table, each one staring a hole into the playing cards he held before his face. She also saw a little old mare in her nightcap blow out the candle by her bedside, plunging her home into darkness. She noticed several other homes follow suit, the warm lights gradually vanishing as she passed by them.
Boy, we were partying for longer than I thought. Guess I lost track of time after the third round of Pin the Tail on the Pony.
She chuckled softly, the memories of music and merriment still fresh on her mind, and the taste of cake still fresh on her lips. She could still hear the bubbly voice of the pink party pony who had spent a significant portion of the evening shoving sweets down her bottomless gullet. She could still see the timid, reserved prancing of the little yellow pegasus, as well as the wild flailing of the dorky unicorn who always seemed intent on pushing the boundaries of what constituted “dancing”. She could still smell the sweet scent of the perfume that had been worn by the town's resident dressmaker, accompanying the naturally fruity aroma of the farmfilly that she had spent hours sharing laughs with.
While every moment of that wonderful evening had been a precious treasure, the mare did not hold the experience in such high regard as that. After all, she and her friends saw each other so often, spent so much time together, and had held dozens of parties just like that one. As much as she had enjoyed herself, it was hard for her to put any special emphasis on that one occasion in particular. Still, she savored the lingering warmth of their company, before allowing the memories to slowly sink into her subconscious, locked safely away in that mental vault.
Her mouth reflexively opened as a mighty yawn made its way up and out of her, the gentle roar adding to the nighttime chorus of chirping crickets, hooting owls, and whistling wind. As much as she would have liked to have partied the night away with her friends, even an amazing athlete like her needed their sleep. As the boost of energy provided by sugary sodas and sweets slowly diminished, she felt her eyelids grow heavier and the flaps of her wings come slightly slower every time.
Luckily for her, she did not have much farther to go. Having reached the edge of town, her wings carrying her over the last few outlying buildings, she was able to look out and see a familiar patch of cloud hanging in the air not too far ahead of her. She smiled as she made out the tall, white pillars and the gentle streams of rainbow flowing through the puffy yard surrounding her lofty abode. It wouldn't be long now, she thought to herself; she could almost feel the incredible softness of her cloud-mattress beneath her tired body and feel the warm embrace of her blankets.
With one last burst of strength, she gave her wings a forceful flap, shooting her forward at a respectable speed. She quickly glided across the last bit of distance between her and her goal, the towering cloud-house soon looming over her head once again. With a reflexive grace honed over a lifetime of flying, she angled her wings and slowly descended, landing harmlessly on the cottony cloud before her front door. She breathed a sigh of relief as she made her way over to it and pushed it open, stepping into the comforting embrace of those familiar walls.
The soft moonlight streaming through the windows was the only thing that permeated the darkness that filled those lofty halls. Even so, she was able to make out the long, winding staircase that led up to her bedroom on the top floor. Shutting the front door quietly behind her, she folded her tired wings and made for the stairs, beginning the long journey upwards. Each of her gentle hooffalls echoed throughout the house, the sound highlighting the still quiet that she found herself in.
Another mare might have been too scared to walk through that dark house all alone like that. Of course, she wasn't another mare; she wasn't about to get scared of a few shadows. She was the fastest flier in all of Equestria, for Celestia's sake! She had faced down terrifying monsters and villains the likes of which would make lesser ponies quiver in fear. She and her friends had saved the world on multiple occasions and been home in time for a snack at Sugarcube Corner. The idea that she would be scared of walking through her own home at night was ridiculous!
A sudden breeze wafted through a nearby window, reaching out and stroking her hindquarters with its chill fingers. She froze, a shiver running up her spine from the cold, and definitely not from anything else. A few moments later, she gulped, then forced her legs to resume the climb. She found herself unconsciously scanning every corner of the house in her field of view, her eyes dashing from corner to corner and from shadow to shadow.
As she turned her attention to the wall beside her, however, she suddenly felt the totally nonexistent tension welling up within her dissipate. Hung along that wall, encased in neat little frames, were a myriad of memories bright and warm enough to stave off any darkness and any cold. Images of friends old and new, each one recalling in her mind a dozen other happy sights and sounds. The proud beaming of her parents was right beside, filling her heart with a profound sense of nostalgic comfort. With all of these familiar smiles guiding her way, she hardly noticed the darkness as she ascended the last length of steps and finally reached her bedroom door.
A gentle squeak pierced the quiet as she pushed it open, despite her best attempt at stealth. Within that room, snuggled under a pile of thick blankets on its little bed in the corner, a sleeping tortoise cracked its eyelids and slowly raised its head towards the noise. As the mare carefully shut the door again and made her way over to her big, fluffy bed, she noticed the stirring of the humble reptile. Stopping short, she swiftly changed course and stepped over to it, smiling warmly.
“Sorry, buddy,” she whispered as she leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on that wrinkled head. “Didn't mean to wake you.” The tortoise slowly blinked its eyes, then returned its head to its previous resting place, quickly slipping off to dreamland once again.
With the utmost care, the mare silently approached her bed and lowered herself down onto the plush, pillowy mattress. She almost let out a sigh of relief as she melted into its soft embrace, but managed to restrain herself. As she settled in, snuggling underneath the warm bedding messily draped over the mattress, she felt the lingering feelings of that night, both warm and cold, slowly recede, making way for the drowsiness that was quickly overtaking her. By the time her head came to rest on her plush pillow, she could already feel herself drifting away. She had just enough time to roll her head to the side and gaze out her bedroom window at the starry sky beyond before her heavy eyelids drooped closed. Mere moments later, the room was filled with the rhythmic sound of her slow, heavy breaths.
She woke slowly, the life returning to her limp body like a bonfire carefully coaxed to life from a spark. Her muscles flexed and stretched as strength returned to them, and she unconsciously rolled over onto her side. Unfortunately for her, it was the side that was facing her bedroom window. Gentle light streamed through the glass directly onto the face of the little angel of a mare still clinging to the warmth of sleep. While it was certainly no pea, and she no princess, even that minor stimulus proved enough to disturb her peaceful rest. The light filtered through her eyelids, signaling her brain to wake.
A soft groan escaped her lips as her eyes quivered, then cracked open just the tiniest bit, removing the only obstruction between her and the bright light of day. She reflexively clamped them shut again, but did not move quickly enough to trick her body into prolonging her rest. She grumbled as she lied there, waiting as she felt her mind and body stir to life once again. As her brain chugged along, slowly but surely building up to its usual impressive speed, a trickle of thoughts floated through it, starting off simply to begin with.
Bathroom.
As strong as her desire to remain comfortably, if not neatly, snuggled up in her bed was, she was soon compelled to obey her body and abandon her cottony paradise. With tremendous effort, she pressed her shaky limbs against the bed and slowly forced her body upwards into a sitting position. She stayed like that for a few moments, merely staring at the far wall as she felt her blood redistribute itself throughout her body. When her strength and willpower were in sufficient supply, she carefully rolled to the side and slid off of her bed, standing up on her hooves.
With her eyes half-lidded and her brain half-asleep, she lumbered her way across her bedroom to the door, then passed through it onto the landing beyond. She reflexively turned and made the familiar trek to the little filly's room a short distance away. After powdering her muzzle, she approached her large bathtub and turned the knobs to start a torrent of hot, cloud-pure water flowing down from the shower head above. It took her a few moments to get the temperature just right, but when she was satisfied, she carefully stepped under the stream.
She let out a long, drawn-out sigh and shivered in pleasure as she felt that steamy water flow over her sluggish body, melting her lingering drowsiness away. She smiled as she closed her eyes and put her head under the stream, letting the water run down her neck, along her back, over her hindquarters, and all the way down her legs. After eventually getting over the initial euphoria brought on by the hot, wet caress of the shower, she opened her eyes and set about actually doing what one is meant to do in the shower. With the aid of some nearby soap, the little mare was soon squeaky clean and ready to face the day.
Twisting the knobs to stifle the flow of water, she carefully stepped out of the bathtub and grabbed a thick, fluffy towel that was hanging nearby. She rubbed herself down, drying out her long mane and tail as best she could. Her morning flight would take care of any lingering dampness, just as it always did. Before leaving the room, she spent the bare minimum amount of time brushing her teeth with her treasured Wonderbolts brand toothbrush, flashing a confident smile at herself in the mirror when she had finished.
As she stepped out of the bathroom, she couldn't help but notice how unusually rested she felt. Despite her earlier drowsiness, which had mostly worn off, both her mind and body felt pumped up and ready to take on the world. Normally, she would have had to sleep until at least noon to feel that energetic upon waking, especially after a late night of intense partying. One quick look out the window, however, confirmed that it could not have been past ten o' clock, as the morning sun had not yet neared its zenith. Not wanting look a gift...well, you know...she quickly shrugged off the thought, as her rumbling tummy presented a much more pressing matter to attend to.
She turned to face the balcony that looked down over the spiral staircase of her home, and after a quick run-up, she launched herself into the air, spreading her wings and gracefully gliding down. An unnecessarily risky move to be sure, brought on by a deep-seated shortage of patience, but she didn't care. She had flown that gentle corkscrew a thousand times before, and had never gotten hurt doing so. Granted, she might have been a bit less bold had the vast majority of her home not been constructed out of soft, fluffy cloud, but even if it had been, she would never have backed down from such a trivial challenge.
Thankfully, her hooves hit solid cloud again a couple floor down without incident. Finding herself at her desired destination, she quickly turned and trotted into her kitchen. Ignoring the pile of dirty dishes in her sink still waiting to be scrubbed, she quickly zipped about the room preparing the breakfast of champions: a toaster pastry and an energy drink. As she took deep swigs of the drink and awaited the arrival of her pastry, she retrieved some leafy greens from her fridge and chopped them up into little pieces, filling a nearby bowl scrawled with the name “Tank”. When the toaster finally propelled the second half of her meal up into the air, she zipped over with lightning speed and grabbed it in midair. After scarfing down the sugary treat and chugging the remainder of her beverage, she carefully picked up the bowl of greens and flew it out of the kitchen and back up to her bedroom.
“Tank,” she sang out softly as she gently elbowed the door open. “Got your breakfast, buddy.”
She quickly flew over and landed before the small bed in the corner of the room, placing the bowl in its proper place before it. She smiled down at the bed, scanning the pile of small pillows and blankets that lay in a heap atop it, searching for the familiar sight of a wrinkled green head buried within. When she could not immediately find what she sought, she chuckled softly and stretched out a hoof towards the bedding.
“Come on, lazyshell,” she said. “Rise and shine.”
Her smile faltered as her hoof met an unexpected lack of resistance from the pile. She quickly followed up the initial contact with several more exploratory touches, none of which felt the distinctive firmness of a shell. Her smile now completely gone, she dispensed with the prods and began tearing away at the pile, tossing blankets left and right haphazardly. When she had finished, she stared down silently at the empty bed, struggling to comprehend what her eyes beheld.
“Tank?” she said, her voice devoid of its previous cheerfulness. She turned her head, quickly scanning the room from top to bottom, but did not see the little tortoise anywhere.
“Tank?” she said as she scurried about the room, poring over every nook and cranny there was to be pored over. She looked behind furniture, under her bed, in her closet, and even in her drawers, all to no avail. “Come on, Tank, this isn't funny!”
Panic began to seep into her rapidly accelerating heart as she made her second pass over the room, still finding nothing. “You better get out here right now, mister, or I'm gonna eat your breakfast!” she called out.
When the threat failed to produce results, she turned and bolted out of the room, heading for the nearby bathroom. The room did not offer nearly as many hiding places as the bedroom, but even so, she went over every inch of it, even staring down the drain of the bathtub in the vain hope that she might catch a glimpse of green. When her efforts proved fruitless once again, she quickly left the room and returned to the bedroom, the only other room on that floor.
She tried to calm herself enough to think clearly, but her brain was already flying a mile a minute, and her pounding heartbeat was not far behind. “Come on, think!” she grumbled to herself. She glanced over at a nearby shelf, seeing the magical propeller device that still sat upon it. “Okay, he couldn't have flown anywhere, so he must...”
He couldn't have flown.
“Oh no,” she said.
A fraction of a second later, she was hovering in the air above the balcony outside her bedroom, her dread palpable as she gazed down over it. She saw the spiral staircase, she saw the balconies of the lower floors, and she even saw all the way down to the floor way below, but she was unable to see any green...or red. However, that did not stop her from shooting down those stairs faster than she had ever done so before. Not a single step was spared her attention; not a single inch went untouched by her intense gaze. So focused was she on her task that she barely had time to stop herself from crashing into the floor way down at the bottom level.
As soon as she had come to a stop, she spun around in midair, quickly scanning the room, but found nothing out of the ordinary. She zipped back and forth through the air as fast as lightning, going over the entire floor in ten seconds flat. When she was completely confident that her quarry was nowhere to be found there, she zipped back to the stairs and flew to the next floor up. Her heart was pounding in her chest, threatening to burst right out of it, but she did not dare slow down for even a moment, searching that floor as quickly and as thoroughly as the last.
Up and up she went, searching every nook and cranny of every floor in her home. She rifled through drawers and cabinets, pushed heavy pieces of furniture aside as if they weighed nothing at all, and poked her head into every space in her home that could have even conceivably contained a shell, and even some that could not have. She unearthed a treasure trove's worth of items she had misplaced over the years, but she didn't care about that one bit so long as her most precious treasure remained missing.
Her once-beautiful home was in a sorry state by the time she had finished poring over every inch of it for the second time, but the mess was the last thing on her mind. She hovered in midair halfway up the stairs, paralyzed by frustration, fervor, and fear. In her frazzled mind, she ran through a checklist over and over and over again, desperately trying to think of some place that she hadn't searched yet. Try as she might, however, she was eventually forced to accept that her beloved pet was not in the house.
Perhaps it was because of all of the long hours she had spent in the company of a certain analytical egghead, subconsciously internalizing the process of deductive reasoning. Perhaps it was a moment of miraculous clarity that pierced the clouds in her mind like a burning beacon. Whatever the reason, she eventually realized that, if the one she sought was not in her home, then he must necessarily be outside of it. She zoomed back down to the entryway, gazing upon her front door, which was still shut tight, just as she had left it the night before.
“He couldn't have...” she murmured as she approached the door and verified that it was still a solid object. Putting her disbelief aside, she quickly threw the door open and flew out into the wide world beyond.
Her fluffy, white yard stretched out before her, the little cloud bank her home sat atop coming to an end a few dozen feet away. She reflexively scanned the area, both out of hope and desperation, but the only trace of green she saw was in the gently burbling fountain of rainbow that issued forth from the cloud-ground. She flew over and landed at its edge, her hooves depressing the squishy terrain only slightly. As she felt that cool, cottony touch, however, she was gifted with another moment of uncharacteristic mental clarity. She realized that, as so many other pegasi often did, she had forgotten that not every creature could walk on clouds.
Her heart skipped a beat. Without even thinking, she launched herself into the air, did a backflip, then plunged straight down through the cloud beneath her, slicing through it like a bullet through tissue paper. Faster than a blink, she passed through and out of the cloud, hurtling downwards towards the bright green hill far beneath. From her vantage point, she could see nothing of significance in the sea of grass that stretched out for a mile around her home, and she was not even sure whether she would have wanted to. She pulled up at the very last second, slowing her descent just enough to keep her from crashing into the earth.
She wasted no time in beginning her search anew, inspecting every single blade of grass within her field of view. She flew in a spiral, starting right beneath her house and slowly moving outwards away from it, her eyes glued to the ground the entire time. A lesser pegasus might have gotten dizzy from flying in such a pattern so quickly, but not her; she had no room in her at that moment for disorientation. When she finally raised her head again, she realized that she had flown at least a hundred feet from the edge of her cloud, and must have passed over every inch of land within that radius. Despite this, she had found nothing of note other than a few patches of clover and wildflowers.
For several moments, she merely hovered there, staring out over the vast empty landscape, the only sounds that reached her ears coming from her heaving breaths and her pounding heart. As the reality of the situation sunk in, her flapping wings gradually slowed, her body descending and coming to rest on the grass beneath her. She lowered her head, holding it in her shaky hooves for support. A thousand questions buzzed around her brain like hornets, each one with a harsh sting to match.
How did...? Where did...? When did...? Why did...?
For these questions, she had no answers, but as the question of “who” fluttered through her mind, she momentarily froze. She might not have had the answers she sought, a fact which even the prideful mare would have admitted to, so great was her desperation, but she knew who might. It was the pony she had known ever since she was a filly, her oldest, closest friend. It was the pony who could always be counted on to solve any animal-related problem that should arise, big or small. It was also the pony who, way out there on the outskirts of town, was the one she could reach the fastest for help.
A strange, focused calm came over her as she arrived at this conclusion. Her body reacted to her wishes even before her brain could command it to do so. With a surge of strength, she launched herself high into the air, oriented herself in the proper direction, then took off, cutting through the air so quickly that she could have been heard from a mile away. Within seconds, she could see the edge of the Everfree forest coming up beneath her, and just a short distance away, the pretty little cottage by the babbling brook covered in vegetation and surrounded by birdhouses.
She angled downward and came in for a landing, her hooves slamming into the ground with an audible thud. She leapt upon the front door, pounding her hooves on the wood with just enough restraint to not break it down. “Fluttershy!” she cried out, her voice trembling. “Fluttershy, I need you! It's an emergency!”
When a few seconds had passed and the call had not been answered, her anxiety spiked, and she pounded the door even harder. “Fluttershy, please!” she shouted.
The seconds continued to tick by, with the door remaining unmoved and the quiet unbroken by the soft voice of cottage's owner. Every moment of delay only added fuel to the fire burning within the mare's trembling body, increasing the already intense pressure built up inside of her. She anxiously trotted in place, biting her lip to keep herself from screaming. Before long, the pressure had surpassed the meager amount of patience she still had left in her, compelling her to take action.
“Oh, fine then!” she said as she leaped into the air.
She flapped backwards several yards, then with all her strength, propelled herself forwards towards the door, tackling it with all the might her little body could produce. The sound of cracking wood echoed through the air as the door was sent flying backwards into the house, with the mare not far behind. She sailed into the familiar living room and came to a stop in midair, scanning the area. There was a stinging pain in the shoulder that had slammed into the door, but it was trivial when compared to the pain and fear currently wracking her heart.
“Fluttershy!” she called out, forcing the pain from her mind. “Fluttershy, where are you?”
The living room was small and cozy, and so took very little time to inspect and confirm the lack of a certain yellow pegasus within it. Grunting in frustration, she flew back into the adjacent kitchen, finding it similarly empty. Back and forth, left and right, up and down she flew throughout the cottage, poking her head into every room within. Her frustration only grew with every empty room she inspected, and by the time she had searched the whole house, she was positively fuming.
She returned to the living room, hovering in place for a moment while she wracked her brain, trying to recall whether her friend had mentioned any planned outings for that morning. “Oh...pony feathers!” she cursed when her memory failed her. She was wasting time, she thought. Every moment she spent dawdling there was another moment that her precious pet could be out there somewhere, lost, afraid...or worse. As the unpleasant possibilities flashed past her mind's eye, her already rapid breathing quickened, her chest heaving like a forge bellows. Having already been pushed to her limit, it did not take long before the little mare's grief got the best of her.
Letting out a wail of grief, she spun in place and sent one of her hind hooves sailing through the air towards the closest convenient target with enough force to shatter bone. Blinded by rage and fear as she was, however, she did not recognize that that target happened to be one of the many adorable little birdhouses hanging from the ceiling. She realized at the very last possible instant what she was about to do, but even with her incredible reflexes, even she was not fast enough to stop her hoof from colliding with the miniature house, instantly destroying it...and anything that might have been within it.
She watched the splintered pieces of the house fall in slow motion towards the floor, frozen in shock at her own actions. As soon as the first piece collided with the hardwood beneath, however, the thunderous sound echoing throughout the cottage, her body recovered from its paralysis, and moved to intercept the debris. It took her mind a bit longer to react; from her perspective, she was in the air one moment, then the next, she was on the floor, cradling the wreckage in her hooves. With trembling lips and shaky limbs, she carefully sifted through the pieces of painted wood, afraid of what she might find within. To her, it felt like an hour, but in reality, it was only a few moments before the aftermath of her destructive outburst was laid on the floor before her: splintered wood, some twine, a few tufts of grass...but nothing else. She lowered her head, breathing a long, shaky sigh of relief as she felt the weight lifted from her shoulders.
Thank Celestia...empty.
In spite of everything, she found herself chuckling softly. Despite all the terror, all the anger, all the heartache that had flowed through her tenacious little heart that morning, she had one thing to be thankful for: the fact that she had struck the one birdhouse in that cottage that didn't have an innocent little creature inside of it. After all, it wouldn't do for both of them to lose...
She sniffled, forcing the thought from her mind. She raised a hoof and wiped away the tiny tear trailing down her cheek. Raising her head, she looked back to the ceiling and to the other birdhouses still hanging there undisturbed. A slight smile came to her lips as she saw the pretty little houses, each one lovingly hoof-painted by the cottage's owner. She had an apology ready on her lips for the birds that would no doubt be disturbed by the unexpected demolition in their neighborhood. Her smile quickly faded as she noticed the distinct absence of any feathered critters, disturbed or otherwise.
She rose to her hooves, then gently flapped back up into the air, never taking her eyes from the birdhouses. She approached the one she had been looking at, straining her eyes to see within it, but try as she might, she could not make out any trace of life within it. She turned, making her way to one house after the other, finding each of them as empty as the first had been.
Weird. These things are never empty.
A thousand memories of a thousand visits to that cozy little cottage floated through her mind. Despite all of the many times and many circumstances under which she had stood in that room, she could not recall a single instance in which not one of those houses had had some manner of bird relaxing or sleeping under its roof. Never once to her memory had the air of that room not been filled with the gentle hum of twittering, fidgeting, and scurrying from the myriad of creatures that made their home there. As this reverie faded, it left behind the reality of that room, a room filled to the brim with a thick, oppressive silence.
She had arrived at that cottage with a single thought on her mind, determined not to rest until her mission had been seen to its end. Her little violent episode had forced her to do just that, however. For the first time since leaving her home, she found herself moving and thinking slowly enough to really hear and really see what was going on around her, or more accurately, what wasn't going on around her. As she drunk in her surroundings with both eye and ear, the disconnect between her many memories and the world around her truly began to sink in. The loud pounding of her heart only hammered home the fact that, as far as she could tell, she was the only living creature in that room.
“No way,” she muttered to herself.
She carefully lowered herself back down to the floor, the soft clack of her hooves on the wooden floor sounding eerily loud in that quiet. Treading as softly as she could, she made her way around the room, peering into the dozens of other little houses, enclosures, mouse holes, and various makeshift homes nearby. Despite her best efforts, she could not find a single twitching nose, furry paw, or fluffy tail anywhere.
Did she...take them all to the vet?
A questionable explanation, but one that could conceivably explain both that absence of animals and the absence of their caretaker. There was only one way to be sure, however. Springing back into the air, she quickly glided out of the room, beginning yet another lap around the house. This time, however, she took her time, forcing herself to calmly inspect every nook and cranny for even the slightest sign of life. She found a dozen or so food bowls on the kitchen floor, mysteriously half-full, but no trace of their owners. She found a tub of room temperature water, a bottle of pet shampoo and a brush floating lazily amidst the remnants of bubbles. Finally, after searching every room, she made her way to the backyard, where she found an empty chicken coop full of unharvested eggs.
Where in Equestria are they? Not even she would take them all at once.
The mare's imagination ran wild, searching for an explanation to the incredulous situation she found herself in. What in Equestria, she asked herself, could have caused every single one of the dozens upon dozens of critters that made their home in that cottage to disappear without a trace? As this question came to the forefront of her mind, she froze, realizing the implications of it. Whatever, or whoever, had been responsible for vanishing that boatload of animals probably would have had no difficulty in doing the same thing to a sleepy little green tortoise.
Her blood pressure rose as her earlier panic resurfaced, combining with the chilling unease brought on by her most recent discovery. Whatever had happened that morning to part her from her precious pet had evidently gone way beyond just the two of them. She didn't know what, and she didn't know how, but she did know one thing: if her friend loved her pets as much as she loved hers, which she knew without a doubt she did, then she would have done the exact same thing she had done upon seeing them gone, namely, run off looking for them immediately. It was no wonder she hadn't been able to find her there.
The mare didn't know where her friend had gone, but she had a pretty good idea. It was the same place she would have gone if she had felt that something strange and potentially dangerous was going on, which was beginning to feel like a surety at that point. Without further delay, she launched herself high into the air, then shot off in the direction of town, heading for the enormous oak tree nestled between those cozy houses. If anypony in the world could help her, it would have to be the nerdy unicorn who made her home beneath those branches.
Within seconds, she had reached the town proper, and in a few seconds more, she was bearing down on the leafy library before her. Her newfound determination, coupled with the sense of fear still gnawing at the back of her mind, propelled her forward at terrific speed. Rather than slow down, she carefully locked on to an open window in the side of the tree, intending to fly right through it. The tree's occupant often lectured her about the unnecessary danger of such a maneuver, but it was an emergency; she would deal with the lectures later. Thankfully, the mare pulled in her wings just at the right moment, and she sailed gracefully through the window and into the library.
“Twilight!” she called out as she unfurled her wings, skidding to a stop in midair.
She quickly scanned the main room of the library, trying to catch her breath as she pored over the shelves of books around her. Both the collection of tomes and the room itself were impressively large, but even so, it quickly became apparent that neither the pony she sought, nor even her scaly assistant, were present.
“Twilight!” she called out again. “Twilight, where are you?”
Flying out of the library proper and into the adjacent living area, she continued her search, with similar results.
“Twilight? Spike? Oh, come on! Where are you?”
Her previously smoldering rage rapidly flared up again, but before she could commit another act of property destruction, something distracted her. A harsh, unmistakable scent invaded her nostrils, the scent of something burning. Whipping her head around, she followed the scent out of the small study she was in and into the nearby kitchen. At first glance, the room appeared fairly normal, the only noteworthy detail being the various dirty mixing bowls and spoons scattered across the counter. However, her keen senses quickly honed in on the nearby oven, and on the wisps of dark smoke leaking out of the appliance.
Thinking quickly, she zipped over to the oven and promptly turned it off, then yanked open the oven door. A thick cloud of smoke emerged from inside the oven, hitting her squarely in the face. She recoiled, coughing and sputtering as she frantically used her wings to disperse the cloud. When the air had finally cleared, she opened her watery eyes once again and gazed into the oven. The source of the smoke was easy enough to identify: a small muffin pan, each cup filled with a dark, shriveled mass that resembled a lump of coal.
When has Spike ever burned muffins before?
Having ensured that the arboreal abode would not soon go the way of the once-muffins, she left the kitchen, making her way through the study and up the stairs to the bedroom beyond. Finding the bedroom door closed, she frantically rapped on the door.
“Twilight, are you in there?” she said. “I really need to talk to you! There's something weird going on and...”
She trailed off as the bedroom door was pushed ajar by the force of her hooves upon it. She hesitated for only a moment before carefully pushing it open a bit more, sticking her head through the crack.
“Twilight?” she said, her eager tone tempered by curiosity.
The bedroom beyond appeared just as it had every other time she had been in it, with the exception of the lack of a certain purple unicorn within it. Pushing the door the rest of the way open, she advanced into the room, confirming her initial assessment that it did not contain any unicorns, or even any dragons. She flew up to the raised level where the comfy bed covered in a starry bedspread sat, finding it as empty as the rest of the room. She did, however, notice a thick book of some kind laying on the bed, its pages open to some tiny text interspaced with complicated mathematical formulas. Sitting on the nearby nightstand was a cup of tea, half-drunk.
“How?” she said to no one in particular. “How is she not here?”
She was not the sort of mare to worry about her own schedules, much less the schedules of her friends, but she happened to know that the owner of that bedroom should have been somewhere within the woody walls of that library right then. The mare in question loved her schedules, to a fault, some might have said, and made no secret of her daily planner. Despite the lack of interest of the mare currently hovering in place in that empty tree, she could not have helped but remember every detail of her friend's daily schedule after hearing her talk about it so often.
“She can't be out already,” she said. “It's only...”
She turned to gaze upon the clock hanging on the wall nearby; her heart skipped a beat as she saw the time it displayed.
“Two...thirty-four?” she said, the words feeling foreign on her tongue.
It can't be.
She cautiously approached the clock, gently tapping it a few times to ensure that it had not somehow gotten stuck. As far as she could tell, however, the clock seemed to be in perfect working order, which did nothing to quell her increasing confusion.
It can't be that late already. I just saw the sun...
She crossed over to the bedroom window as she thought this, looking through it up at the sky high above. A sigh of relief escaped her lips as she saw the morning sun hanging serenely above the horizon, just where it had been when she had woken.
Wait.
A jolt of realization arced through her mind, and she immediately refocused on the bright, burning star above her. She studied it thoroughly, taking note of its relative position above the horizon and the buildings of the town. She racked her brain, desperately trying to come up with some simple explanation for what she saw, all in vain. As ominous as the implications might have been, she was soon forced to admit that that sun, which she had watched move across the sky with clock-like regularity every day of her life, had not budged an inch since she had risen that day.
She suddenly felt very cold...and very vulnerable. Just a few minutes prior, her thoughts had been fixed on one little reptile; now, she felt the weight of all of Equestria weighing down on her. Whatever was going on, whatever horrible nightmare she had wandered into, it went way beyond her and her little corner of the world there in that sleepy little town. It went way beyond a tortoise, it way way beyond a cottage of critters, and it went way beyond even her friends. Something big was happening, something enormous even, and in an extremely uncharacteristic moment, the mare suddenly felt very small indeed.
Sweat beaded on her brow, and her blood rushed through her veins at mach speed. She turned away from the window, staring back at the home behind her. That cozy little tree had always filled her heart with such warmth, such familiar comfort, but in that moment, as she stood there in that perfect stillness and unending silence, she felt only an inexplicable sense of dread. She dared not make her way back through those rooms, and so, that little bird did what she always did when she was afraid: she flew. Within seconds, she had thrown open the bedroom window and hurled herself out of it.
As soon as she felt the open sky above her head once again, her wings extended to their full length, propelling her upwards with a mighty flap. She instinctively flapped way up high, fleeing from whatever unknown threat her imagination had conjured up. When the boughs of the library were far beneath her, only then did she stop and hover in place, taking a moment to catch her breath. No matter how hard she huffed and puffed, however, the pounding of her heart did not slow even slightly.
“There's...there's no way,” she said between breaths.
Again, she stared up at the sun, her change in elevation only further enforcing her previous assessment.
“No!” she shouted, clamping her eyes shut and slamming her hooves against her head. “You're wrong! You're wrong, you're wrong, you're wrong! You're just seeing things. You...you're just messed up 'cause of Tank. Yeah...that's it! You're just freaked out, so you're not thinking straight. There's nothing weird going on. It's just...Twilight just forgot to set her clock right is all. Yeah. Yeah! There's nothing wrong with the sun; it's just still morning! It's morning and...”
She opened her eyes and looked down at the streets below with a hopeful smile on her lips. Below her, she saw the same sights she had seen every morning she had soared over the rooftops of those friendly little houses and shops. She saw fillies and colts rushing off towards the little red schoolhouse, trying to get there before the bell rang. She saw the bustling stalls of the market, both buyers and sellers already busy exchanging hellos and bright, shiny bits. But best of all, right below her, she saw five very familiar mares standing side-by-side, waving up at her, and standing before them, a little green tortoise with a wide smile on his scaly lips.
At least, that's what she wanted to see.
She saw nothing. She saw no fillies or colts. She saw no mares or stallions. She saw no friends, and she saw no beloved pets. She saw nothing, heard nothing, smelled nothing...but was feeling quite a bit. That little mare was feeling quite a bit as she looked down upon the world, looked down upon Equestria, looked down upon her home...and saw not a single creature anywhere.
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I wonder what caused this to happen? You have me interested
That cover art is beautiful. Who is the artist?
I feel dread reading this... I don't know what would I be in RD's position.
I like how you managed to 'show it' instead of 'tell', it's not boring very entertaining to be heard from text-to-speech and can make up for its long and slower pace. (Also the covert art did help catching my attention to your story too.)
11288450
If you on PC, hover your mouse over the picture, it should show a button on the lower left corner of the picture with text "Source" on it.
On phone... I guess you can try to press and hold the picture to show it?
11288450
The cover art is Faraway Land by GaellDragons (#1738223 on Derpibooru).
11288650
Thank you for the info!
The day the whole world went away..
Interesting premise, and I like your characterization of Dash. As someone with temper regulation issues largely because of an anxiety disorder, I have always empathized with that aspect of Dash's character. Anger often comes from places of fear or uncertainty, not disdain for others. Sometimes this aspect of Dash wasn't written that well but there were plenty of times it was, and where she owned up to it.
Curious to see where this goes!
Well, this seems like the start to a horror story.
Also, that art is amazing.
Any vague idea of how this will be before I read it?
11288515
On mobile, you just tap the image and it shows at the bottom right.
However, the source of the image just links to fimfiction's CDN, so it's not all that helpful.
I really enjoy your writing style. I don't know enough about writing to know why. The details are all so well thought out
11288421
I personally think it has something to do with that chilling wind Rainbow felt before going to bed. Wind doesn't just give a feeling of being watched and dread, even if cold.
I think the author was using foreshadowing in regards to the disappearances in the first place and/or a hint as to what caused it.
look for Sunset's journal Dash!
Reminds me of The Quiet Earth 1985, a hidden gem of a film. Pretty much the same exact premise, you have got me interested, interested to see where this goes!
Watch out for the Langoliers, Dash.
She would Fly East, of course.
This is gonna be a good one, I can feel it.
What?! Over 7k words and we're only getting started?! The suspense is killing me!
11290762
Yeah, sorry about that. I tend to stretch things out too much.
One chapter in and I am thoroughly invested. Can’t wait to see more.
11290781
So are we going to see Sunny Star scout? Or is this not a dumped into the future fic?
11291027
This story is not related to Generation 5 and will not contain any characters, locations, or other elements from it.
Why is it always Rainbow Dash that ends up in these kinds of fics?
11290781
Oh no, it's not a bad thing. It's just that I was getting into it and was surprised I got to the end when things were starting to get serious. I was looking for a long series to binge and this looks like the perfect one.
11291334
Because she's the one who's action would be unique based on the situation. Rarity and Fluttershy, for all their growth, could never take this, and would likely go catatonic and just roll over if something like this happens. Pinkie and AJ would both literally try to ignore the bad thing happening around them, as we've seen previously. And Twilight would try to magic up a solution, and given her skill and power, she might be able to.
Rainbow though? What she would do would vary heavily based on the situation's specifics. If it were some kind of plague, she'd run as far away as possible, because she can be no help if she dies herself to it. If it were some kind of spell, she'd search the world over for anyone able to help her. If the others fell to some kind of attack, she'd fight back, even if there's no one left to save. Heck, her element is loyalty, but she's probably just as good at leadership by the end, and might try to organize something, if not survivors found immediately, than never stop searching for them.
11290436
This seems to be set well before Twilight even became an alicorn since she's referred to as as a unicorn which means sunset and the EQG world either isn't known about or isn't isn't thing.
As for my thoughts on the story, I am interested and definitely looking forward to the next chapter.
Well, missing the apocalypse fuckin' sucks! 🥴
Safe bet would be Twilight did something stupid/impulsive again or had another of her crazy episodes.
If this is a “National No SpongeBob Day” Type of thing I’m going to be sorely disappointed.
Seriously though. Great start to the story. Feels like the Mystery of Roanoke Island.
Considering the burnt muffins and the position of the Sun, whatever happened to cause this happened almost instantly in the morning.
Well now this has all my interest.
11291334
Honestly, I was thinking the same thing when I read the description. It's always/usually dash that this happens to. Feels bad
11292408
I can tell you that's not what's going on here.
I am intrigued and wish to see more.
If you allow one... well, it's not criticism, more of an observation: The super majority of the text, especially at the very beginning, is composed of 5-7 lines of paragraph text after paragraph text with long sentences on the main, forming an unbroken monotonous wall that can cause the reader to skip text. Ideally, in writing you want there to be alternate paragraph lengths like you want them in sentences. You want to apply this following image in both your text but also your paragraphs:
writerswrite.co.za/wp-content/uploads/2014/06/Writers_Write_-_The_imprortance_of_varying_sentence_lengths.png
11294632
I can't exactly disagree with your assessment, since I recognize that is how I tend to write. For some reason, my brain finds it more satisfying to write paragraphs that are around that size visually. Of course, on an intellectual level, I recognize that variance in sentence and paragraph length is important, and that I should probably be making an effort to do that.
11294775
It is only something to keep in mind and slowly work towards, not a demerit or criticism, as it's not as easy to implement as, say, some specific grammar rule. It's more like pacing or proper plot lining, and one can only get better at it slowly in time. I haven't got it down proper yet, either—I tend to vary between only long or only short sentences.
BTW, I should have mentioned before, but one little thing that really impressed me and found extremely smart was using the absence of Tank, and how it would naturally make Rainbow frantic, so she wouldn't notice every pony missing, or other clues like the sun, immediately. That's what got me to read further. I was all "Oh, you sneaky bastard, I see what you did there!"
Super good way to make Rainbow work organically and not hold the idiot ball as many others have done.
EDIT: Oops, forgot to upvote the story. Let me fix that.
11288421
Well my theory is that since this takes place before the season 3 finale (where Twilight becomes an alicorn), is that either Celestia became Daybreaker early because in the story it's said that the sun didn't move at all so maybe Celestia/Daybreaker caused Equestria to he in total light all the time like how she wanted to do in the show, in Starlight’s dream. Or, Discord did something crazy to cause everyone to disappear since this is around the time where Discord just got reformed so he would be more of an anti hero than a actual ally/friend.
This reminds me of a similar concept with Pinkie Pie as everyone vanished. Looking forward to updates
11294924
Who knows
11295221
Yeah
11291486
That why she make a good division agent
this could be split into 2-3 chapters with how long it is.