Good-Bye For Today...
Spike had been running around anxious and worried since he had woken up in the middle of the night to Twilight screaming.
He sprinted, tripping over himself, down the stairs. He didn't realize he was shaking until he tried reading, under the candle light, the words on the strange book by Twilight's sleeping head. Holding himself as still as he could, a few words stood out to him:
"Dreaming spells.... imperative the ponies remain asleep until they wake on their own..."
Spike didn't know what was happening, nor who the strange pony was on the couch with her back to him, but he knew he had to help his closest friend in any way he could.
He stayed up with her the whole of the night, quickly pacing back and forth, and jumping in fright every time Twilight would cry out. It took a great amount of courage and strength for him to not wake her up and comfort her, assure her that whatever was happening to her was only a dream.
Just before the sun rose, there was a low rumble. Twilight suddenly began to shake all over. Spike felt her sweaty forehead and, knowing she had a fever, got her blankets and an ice pack. He sat there for a time, stroking her mane. When she began to cry and mumble something about being "all alone" and "no friends," he hugged her, feeling useless. When her screams started up again, he couldn't stop himself from crying, and with tremendous difficulty pulled himself away to prevent himself from trying to wake her.
He was going to go back up in their room, but, glancing back at Twi, who tossed and turned, he again noticed the strange pony on the couch. This pony: she had not moved nor made any noise the entire time: she was as still as death.
He sat at the window in their room, and quietly watched the first gentle rays of the sun play on the clear, crisp landscape. Golden-yellow lines shone along the violet streets and delineated the blue buildings. The sky looked almost green, and sublimely still: not a cloud in the sky. The trees were black masses that gave a sense of cozy hospitality. In the distance, along the base of the silvery mountains, a fog, like a blanket, appeared to be rolling in to Ponyville.
Hoping to get his mind off things, and assure himself that everything was going to be alright, he unlatched the lock on the window. The thought occurred to him that he ought to close all the windows and blinds so that Twilight could stay asleep as long as possible; so he latched the window, pulled the shades, and went all around the house and library closing all the shades and windows, and even putting a sign on outside of the front door that told ponies that the library was closed today and that no pony was home.
This exercise, along with telling himself that this was Twilight he was dealing with, and that she could handle anything, calmed him some.
He checked on Twilight. The ice pack had melted. He quickly made another in the kitchen and replaced it on her head. He gazed at her, and wondered ever more what was happening in the dream she was in. She screamed again, and clenched her teeth. Spike now took a deep breath and told himself, trying to mimic Twilight when she tries to comfort him, that she was alright, and he need only do whatever he could to help without interfering. After another deep breath, he nodded, and thought about what to do. He started fixedly at the strange pony while he thought.
Even as Twilight turned over, screamed, cried, and hit her hooves on the floor at his feet, this pony did nothing. As the sun faintly lit up the library in a low din, he noticed what might have been faint bruises on her back, and that half her right ear appeared to be cut off. The ear shocked him the most, and though he told himself it must only be a trick of the light, he couldn't gather the courage go and check.
To distract himself, and reasoning that Twilight might be waking up any minute, he leaped in to the kitchen to prepare some breakfast: the good-old-fashion comfort meal: eggs, pancakes, and orange juice (he thought of the simplest and warm-hearted meal he could think of making to best re-assure and distance himself of the depressing mood).
He was not sure, but he assumed that the strange pony would eat with them, by Twilight's own request, so he made three big helpings, and, why the hay not, he even decided to dice-up some of Twilight's favorite vegetables and mix them into omelets. He took his time, and tried to stretch the time as long as possible and lose himself in his work as much as possible, but even that only allowed it to be stretched to just over an hour.
With all three plates set around the table, he sat alone at his spot and poked at his food for a time, turning up furtively to check Twilight. She was still asleep and still tossed and still moaned. At least the screaming has stopped some, he sighed. He noticed the ice pack needed changing, and switched them out before returning to the table; and began to pick at his food and slowly take to the process of eating. With both seats empty, he pulled them closer and rested his feet on either one. The sun outside shone brighter, casting bright bars across the room through the cracks in the shutters.
As he put away his empty dish and started to wrap up the other two to put away, a sudden hush fell upon the whole house, and a breeze swept through that made Spike feel, for a moment, rather nauseous. He quickly finished stowing the dishes in the refrigerator, and went to see Twilight.
He rounded the corner of the kitchen to that strange pony turned over and staring at him with wide, piercing, mechanical eyes. His heart sank and he held his breath. He had never seen anypony with such a gaze; it was frightening. And he could now see clearly that ear he thought was cut off was indeed so: half the ear was missing, and its edges were rough and jagged, as though it were cut slowly and with much struggle; it no longer looked like a pony's ear. He stood in a cold sweat, too stunned to either move or speak, and that pony continued to chillingly stare on, neither blinking nor shifting her gaze; it gave her a possessed look.
Twilight suddenly stirred, and that pony averted her gaze to her. Tears came to the pony's eyes, and they turned back to Spike with a completely transformed tenderness that affected him to happy tears as much as her fierce stare had to fear. Twilight looked to him with warm tears in her eyes. Spike wasted no time jumping into his friend's embrace. He was so happy she was alright.
"I was so worried, Twi..." he sobbed. "I stayed up with you all night."
Spike stopped sobbing when he saw the strange pony watching him with too placid eyes.
"I'm alright, Spike," in a weak but relieved voice. "I'm so glad I'm back and to see you," Twilight giggled with a strange sort of sob. "What time is it anyway?"
That pony looked away, her eyes darting about the room.
"Nearly noon! I closed up all the curtains so the light wouldn't wake you!" He pointed eagerly behind him at a curtained window, happy that his prospect would be judged by his dear friend.
"That was very responsible of you, Spike!" approvingly; and she again welled up with tears and hugged him. "Thank you; I don't know what I would do without you."
"Well," Spike began, smiling and chuckling to himself in self-admiration, but was once again cut short by the pony staring at him. "Uhh, Twi..."
"Wait! How did you know I needed to stay--"
"Who's the new pony?" He cut her interrogative outburst off, tapping her shoulder.
Twilight's face brightened and she jumped into Cherry Garden's hooves. "Cherry Garden! We did it!"
Cherry Garden's face flashed nervously, though she tenderly returned the embrace.
"Yes," her voice faltered; "we did."
Spike noticed Cherry Garden smiled strangely. Her glance fell upon a corner of the room and did not look away even when Twilight let her go and began congratulating her with tender, kind words. Twilight's own manner, Spike thought, was awfully forced.
Spike stepped up next to Twilight and got a good look at this strange Cherry Garden. Spike interrupted her brief praising and flatly asked who this pony was that was "so brave; so strong; so clever; and worthy of so much love and friends and praise."
"Spike--oh, I'm sorry!" She took his claw and held it out for him to shake with Cherry Garden's hoof. "This is Cherry Garden, an incredibly talented painter; she helped me defeat Discord in her dreams." As she went on rambling and explaining to Spike all that had happened to her and Cherry up until now, as well as relating what she has learned about her in her dreams, every now and again, emphatically touching Cherry, looking to her to validate a certain point or two with some kind of nod of the head or significant look, Spike noticed strange peculiarities in her demeanor and countenance. Her face was rather sunken, but not unhealthy; her eyes, like ghostly lights, would alternate between gliding over everything in sight, moving unceasingly, and gazing fixedly at something or other. She fidgeted as though guilty of some unknown crime. When staring at something closely, her mouth, often tongue in cheek, would move oddly. Her expressions changed rapidly from one to the next: when Twi talked about the nightmares and Discord, and looked to Cherry, Cherry's face would sink into a horrified expression as though the thing were still before her; when Twi mentioned being happy for Cherry for helping her defeat Discord and showing her the love within her own heart, she brightened and smiled so warmly it almost broke Spike's heart.
Both Twilight and Spike, when either looked up at Cherry Garden's ear, would repress a cringe. The roughness and messiness of its jagged edge made it appear to transform into grotesque shapes in the light when she moved her head. And when she moved ear higher or lower, it would delay and twitch unnaturally.
Despite their victory, Twilight noted that Cherry Garden's face expressed permeating worry.
"Cherry Garden," Twilight leaned closer to her friend, fixing her wide eyes into Cherry Garden's swimming pools, with all her might refraining from glancing at the ear. "Cherry, what's the matter?"
A wave of impending tears rose and fell away just as quickly behind Cherry's eyes. She turned her face away, moved her hooves about nervously and fell still, staring off and away to where Twilight could not see. Suddenly she jumped up from the couch and paced back and forth, incoherently muttering and turning her gaze frantically from the floor to the ceiling and back. Twilight was about to speak when Cherry Garden cut her off maniacally.
"I feared that being a burden to you, you felt me rather a thing to be dreaded." Her head dropped; a gravity overcame her features, as though reproaching herself.
"What? Cherry, what do you mean?" was the confounded reply.
Cherry Garden appeared about to vomit. She stopped her compulsive pacing. She hunch her head forward and low, only to quickly reel it back and straighten back up and shake her head, shaking off thoughts.
Twilight exchanged nervous glances with Spike. When Cherry Garden let out a cry and stomped her hooves violently, Twilight read in Spike's face a desire to have Cherry Garden leave; Twilight did not admit it to herself, but this pony's behavior was becoming increasingly stranger, and she held the same desire as Spike: this pony was dangerous. She felt uneasy around her. She did her best to appear as kind as possible and silently encouraged Spike to do the same; in the same she countenanced undercurrent fear.
Neither of them thought to imagine the struggle going on within Cherry Garden. She was free of Discord, and Twilight thought that was end of it; in reality her own demons, her own personal suffering, still mocked her. Throughout her life ponies looked at her and had pronounced her ignorant, insane, manic, messy, a failure... was it true, she wondered? She was no unintelligent pony: she was clever and creative, a master of observation. With a keen eye she observed her own actions, her own attempts to quiet the plague of poisonous ideas: her pacing, her strange deep breath--to any pony this would appear to be the mark of insanity. She felt depraved. Her mind raced. What could she say?
"The hours I shared with you were a bit too trying and difficult for us both; it was agony." Cherry Garden smiled strangely, her whole body tilted slightly, inquisitively.
Twilight was taken aback. "Cherry--"
Cherry Garden cut her off with a sob. A worry plagued her. Depression trapped her in a wall and silenced her heart. How could she clearly express to Twilight her feelings during her dream? How could she explain those own emotions that were an enigma even to herself? She bucked the couch so hard she broke one of its internal beams. Her thoughts were obscure and her manners were just as ambiguous. She felt disgusting.
"Sorry," Cherry Garden managed after a long sigh, cringing while glancing at the now sunken couch.
Twilight smiled only with her lips. Twilight slowly approached Cherry Garden; slowly, not from sympathy, but from a strange revulsion that rose within her that she even now revolted of herself and began to question from whence it exactly came. Thoughts of Discord hurting this poor filly came to her mind, and the revulsion struggled against real feelings of pity. The battle played on her face. Cherry Garden watched as, very quickly, Twilight's smile lingered on the lips, and then, as care won over caution, it grew to include her eyes smiling warmly. She leaned forward and hugged Cherry Garden. Cherry Garden tensed oddly.
"I was afraid you would only see me as everypony does... I am a nopony..." Twilight's embrace loosened and tightened again. Cherry Garden could not see her expression flash between tender care and annoyance at Cherry Garden's lack of trust in her--her who alone stood with her and defended her and helped her. Divining her feelings, Cherry Garden made to try to soothe her friend: "I've been hurt so often, is it so strange that an animal would cringe at the offering of a rare treat, and doubt?"
Her words only threw Twilight deeper into confusion. What is Cherry Garden thinking?
Twilight released Cherry Garden and exchanged glances with Spike.
"Cherry Garden, you don't have to be afraid anymore. Discord is gone. You're free." Twilight smiled sweetly, only with her lips.
"You're among friends," Spike added comfortingly.
"Is there something still the matter?" Twilight forced a full smile that appeared natural.
Cherry Garden spat out a lavender strand of hair. She straightened up and shook her head.
Spike, feeling trapped in the midst of a thick emotional air, cut it open with the suggestion of breakfast and rushed off to re-heat his close friend's and Cherry's meals.
"I'm so sorry I didn't ask sooner: of course you must be exhausted; no wonder you're acting so strange. Let's go eat; I'm starved!" Twilight spoke on Spike's behalf. She stood up proudly, and immediately set to tidying up the room, levitating the pillows here and the book over there. Helping Cherry Garden up hadn't even crossed her mind.
Cherry Garden felt a pang of envy watching Twilight preform magic with such ease. And even with this luxury, Twilight could still be troubled. If even this pony could face insurmountable troubles she could not overcome even with magic, what of her, Cherry Garden, who could not ease her lot with the aid of magic? There was a pleasure she could never experience without magic, and any pleasure Cherry Garden could feel as being an earth pony, could not Twilight easily achieve it? The thought stung Cherry Garden that there was something forever beyond her reach; she was trapped.
Twilight repaired the couch, good as new, in a flash of magic.
As her thoughts drifted to her art, Twilight broke Cherry Garden's meditative spell with a placid plea to follow her into the kitchen. Cherry Garden shot her an irritated look behind her back and followed. Her eyes were glued to Twilight's tail, swishing to and fro rhythmically as she glided into the kitchen. When they sat at the table, Spike holding the plates in his paws, about to quick-heat them with a blast of his fire from his mouth, Cherry Garden tore away from Twilight's tail with a great struggle. She noticed her bag hanging onto the back of her own chair. Her earlier irritation had fallen away.
Spike set their plates and glasses of orange juice before them on the table and slid into his seat next to Twilight.
"This looks absolutely delicious... Spike!" Cherry Garden grinned childishly.
Twilight picked up her fork and knife in her magic, cut a slice of her pancake, but from some lapse of memory, had forgotten to add the syrup. Spike started up to retrieve it, but before he could even stand,Twilight levitated it from the cabinets and over her plate. She poured it gently and precisely, not too much nor too little. She set it on the table near to Cherry Garden's juice.
Twilight, as she turned down to eat, watched Cherry Garden out of the corner of her eye. Spike tried to look as though he were observing something in the living room, behind Twilight, but he too watched Cherry Garden struggle.
Cherry Garden grabbed the syrup bottle in her mouth, and tilted it over the pancakes. It slipped slightly and poured out too much too quickly. Syrup got on her eggs and vegetables. She set the bottle back down quickly. Twilight and Spike found it surprising that she didn't seem alarmed when the syrup had spilled out. Cherry Garden tilted her head to better get at the syrup dripping down her chin with a wild lick. Her face clean, her head dove into her plate with a mark of decorum, but her manners were unruly. She attempted to cut her pancakes by hitting them with the knife, after having tried and failed to cut them as Twilight had. After failing with that attempt, she stabbed at them. She smiled excitedly. She stabbed at them again and again, producing loud clinks and clangs on the plate.
Spike couldn't stand it anymore. He stood in his chair, leaned far over the table, and seized the knife. Cherry Garden was shocked.
"Let me." He had repressed the urge to shout "Stop!"
"But... I had it," she said, her face sunken and her eyes moist.
So this is the pony, whose strange ways even scare Pinkie? Twilight watched as Cherry Garden tilted her glass, nearly spilling it over trying to drink from it. Spike had taken Cherry's plate and was cutting the pancakes.
"Cherry, why don't you use your hooves, dear?"
Cherry Garden picked the glass up, and neatly took a sip with no struggle.
"See?" Was that so hard, Cherry? But really! I know you must be shaken up, but what are you thinking?
Spike finished. He returned her plate and sat back down next to Twilight, flabbergasted at Cherry's behavior: wouldn't any pony know to use their hooves?
Cherry Garden plunged her head right back into her plate, after a quick thanks. She used her lips to pull her food into her mouth. The eggs, the vegetables, and the pancakes, together! In the same mouth-full!
Twilight couldn't eat. Even Pinkie would eat swallow one food before inhaling the next. With Pinkie around, she was used to strange behavior... but this--this was different. Pinkie would do crazy things out of fun, but Cherry seemed to do it all in a rush.
"Why are you eating like that?" Spike asked.
"What? Flavor!" She stopped eating and swallowed what was in her mouth. "I'm sorry, am Ah bothering y'all?"
Spike smirked at Cherry's sudden fall into a country drawl. They hadn't noticed it ere that point, but Cherry did have a slight accent to her voice; what kind, however, they could not place.
"Well... um, kinda. I mean, it is a little weird." Twilight nervously laughed.
"Should I use my fork, then?" Cherry Picked it up in her mouth, moved it around as dexterously as she had the paint brushes in the dream, stabbed some pancakes on it, and flipped it round into mouth.
Why hadn't she done the same with the knife? Twilight surprised herself with her rise in agitation at something so silly. But the way this pony behaved: there was no sense to it! She sighed. Cherry Garden, though not as hyper as some ponies was certainly the most inconstant. And now she eats just fine, wielding the fork and knife as well as though she has used them all her life. That mutilated ear of her's caught Twilight's attention. She turned away sharply. The ear twitched disturbingly. As though to bring some relief to her ill feelings, and bring her own attention away from the ear she still could not stand looking at:
"Cherry Garden, you could hold your silver-wear the way it was meant to, you know." Twilight gestured with her own hooves how to hold them. Cherry Garden followed her advice and sighed.
So this is how she is? Cherry Garden thought. She forgot to consider whether her behavior while eating might be seen as marked affront to Twilight. Cherry Garden usually ate alone; almost exclusively. She was unaccustomed to company, though she knew very well how to behave in it. It had crossed her mind to behave strictly and formally, but, while having stared at Twilight's tail, she soothed and relaxed, and so lost herself to behaving as she does alone; she felt she could trust Twilight to accept her for who she is. This was not so. This will not do...
Twilight shattered the silence between them when Cherry ate more soft with the fork in her hoof.
"I--"
Cherry Garden coughed in a rather funny way and shifted in her seat.
"I was wondering about some things that happened in the dream." Cherry Garden suddenly inhaled in a short burst. "How much was true, and how much was created by Discord?" What did you mean when you said that none of "it" was true? She said in the expression on her face.
"What are your bruises from?" Spike asked sympathetically.
Twilight started. She hadn't noticed: there were light bruises on Cherry Garden's neck. Her expression betrayed her deep concern.
Cherry Garden took a deep breath.
Twilight placed her knife and fork on the table.
Cherry Garden put down her utensils and turned her head away, downcast.
"So this is what it is all about!" Cherry slammed her hooves on the table, spilling the glasses. She took an angry pleasure in every syllable. Twilight's lack of simplicity, artificial manner, and nervousness had long been irritating her. Cross and frowning, "You. YOU!" She shook. Her thoughts raced.
Spike and Twilight were frightened at her sudden transformation; Spike hid behind Twilight, and Twilight stepped back from her chair, drifting back into the counter behind her.
In actuality she was not entirely angry at Twilight, but Twilight had reminded herself of her life up to that point. She vividly recalled those moments of yesterday, at Sweet Apple Acres, in frightening clarity. She couldn't recount that. She couldn't! How much worse it was than Discord had portrayed to Twilight: the verbal abuse; the brutal attacks on her soul; the grossest insults to pony-feelings. The rope she used on her own neck after it all. The trouble she went through to hide the pain in her throat last night and this morning was intolerable. Twilight's friends hurt her, but she just couldn't betray them to her... even if it was true. She was afraid. It made no sense: why couldn't she just tell Twilight? There was something, something like a parasite, that attached itself to her heart and made her believe she deserved the suffering she endured...
Screaming, screaming. She screamed at Twilight, the latest of those few ponies who cared for her. You little shit! she inwardly told herself. On Twilight, she let loose a barrage of some of the pain in her soul.
"You see these artists today--countless damn artist--they call themselves that: artists! They have turned their duty into their right and turn out many harmful pieces of music, visual art, written art--poison, the whole of it! An artist's utopia is a terrifying thing! You see they create for profit and entertainment: an escape for depraved ponies! This art can help alleviate a mood, but the soul of it merely dulls the pain while not considering the source! They copy each other, feeding the pubic what it wants--a taste they have acquired by what the artists have fed them! Dulling their consciences!" (She threw her plate across the room, and it shattered against the wall.) "Art is a powerful way to convince ponies, therefore one must be very careful in its use. If there existed none of this entertainment, over half of all the ponies would at once rush their heads against a rock, for it is intolerable to live against one's conscience, and most do! Lies sell the most--try to make a living telling the truth, and they will throw you out in to the streets! I pity them! Idle! Idle! Idle! Idle! How afraid they are, clinging to their debris! Art should bring a new emotion into our life. It should be a gift, not a simple means of profit or idle divertimento... I have put my life into my work, and have lost half my mind doing so!"
Cherry spun around, huffed, threw her hoof onto her chest, coughed, spit, took a deep breath, cringed, and laid herself prostrate on the hardwood floor, belly up, breathing in deep droughts of air.
"I'm fine! I'm sorry!" There was no possibility of spilling her whole heart out. Her rant was a mask.
Twilight and Spike were stunned: what should they do? After the initial fright, Twilight had listened to what Cherry Garden was telling her. Highly idealistic, she thought with a smile like a frown.
Cherry flipped her self over, buried her face into her fore-hooves, hidden, and audibly cried. Hot tears streamed down her cheek. The unpleasant salty smell that accompanies them stung her nose, slowly becoming comforting like a wall that protects.
Twilight knelt beside her. She laid a comforting hoof over her head, stroking her mane rhythmically. There was silence between them for many moment. Silence that was peaceful for Cherry Garden, but for Twilight Sparkle, they were uncomfortable: she should say something, anything to help; this lack of talk felt very much like a void needing to be filled with something.
What should she say? Should she say that Cherry had nothing to worry about? Should she assure her that she stood there beside her? Memories of their dream together floated up. Cherry Garden, and time with her, was a regular roller coaster of emotions.
Perhaps she really is disturbed? And if Cherry Garden was, was she to turn her out of her house, or help her? The answer wasn't immediately apparent. I have always stood by my friends... they are afraid of Cherry Garden for a reason. Have they seen something in her I haven't? Could she be some new threat to Equestria in a way I haven't seen? Some kind of monster? Her friends would certainly not approve of her being friends with some pony they didn't like and believed was dangerous--would they walk away from her? No! No! She felt sick; the sharp blade of the knife played with the heartstrings that connected her with her friends, threatening to cut them: the pain like an exposed nerve. She didn't have the strength for that...
Spike came up to Twilight; his eyes were fixed on her with imploring insistence; his lips quivered piteously. Neither knew what Cherry Garden tried to get at; why she burst into an uproar; what upset her. If she might suddenly attack them.
"It'll be alight, my friend," Twilight said to her herself, under her breath.
Cherry Garden slammed her head once on the floor, and then lay still. She broke the beginning of a moan and lay silent. She inched her head closer to Twilight. Like a cat, she pressed into Twilight's hoof.
Twilight wanted to jump up and run away: was Cherry Garden displaying... romantic affection?
Cherry Garden sat up at stared at them both with those same mechanical eyes that had earlier filled Spike with dread. Imperceptibly, they softened. She leaned into Twilight, eyes locked. She rested her lips up next to Twilight's ear. The mutilated ear glared at Spike.
"I want to give you something."
Cherry Garden slid away to retrieve her bag. Twilight held her breath; Spike tugged on her mane.
"She's crazy, Twi!" Spike hissed under his breath, so only Twi could hear.
Cherry Garden is an isolated pony. To know, that no matter who you are friends with, that when you leave them, they will not look after you, walk to you, or call out to you; they let you leave without promise, or desire, of a welcomed return. Cherry Garden choked as she pulled out a large rolled canvas from her bag. The thought brought physical pain. Even now, she saw, the bruises on her neck were forgotten in Twilight's mind; the words given through the cypress tree, ultimately left unrecieved and dropped on the ground like an unwanted gift of the heart. If Twilight forgot these, why not let her have her way, let her get on with her day and on with her life; go back to her friends and smile? That was a picture she (Cherry Garden) needn't be a part, nor was even welcomed to. She accepted it with an inward cringe and a silent whimper.
Twilight couldn't deny Spike's words. Thinking over the dream anew, she had trouble, now, dismissing Discord's claims. She hoped to say something before Cherry Garden unrolled the canvas, but Cherry flung it out over the floor before her, before the words even formed in her mouth.
The picture at first appeared to be an abstract. The bold brush strokes and moving colors shocked her more than she had expected. The dark strokes in the foreground were in a fury, attacking everything in sight--over two-thirds of the canvas. Bursts of yellow, white, and pale green and blue, lit up like a forest fire in the dead of night. Great blue-ish-violet trunks, all nearly straight but for one, like the legs of some forsaken pony thrown into the pits, in the thick of being swarmed by the dark strokes. Up and up; twisting, gnawing, slashing, infecting! Their assault was relentless, furious, and frightening; they consumed their victims. The background stood out bright, juxtaposed against the dark mass, making it appear all the darker; those colors, even the brighter tree trunks, and even the blue of one seemed brighter, appeared another world to Twilight; utterly indifferent and cut off from the terror below it. And yet, in spite of this impression she made, the painting was breathtakingly beautiful. The infinite amount of strokes, the perfectly laid and placed colors, showed a deep love and understanding for her subject Twilight had never known. The painting was alive and breathing! It was clear that here Cherry Garden expressed both tender care and suffering.
It brought with it all the intense impressions of life in the images in the dream.
"Ivy loves the branchless willow and the old trunk of the oak in spring. Cancer, even chaos, is like that strange plant--it attaches itself and clings to ponies who lived good and generous lives."
Cherry Garden stared into her painting like one about to make a rapid exchange of elements. She allowed her mane to cover her neck completely. She swallowed; the pain worsened. The jerk of her head it elicited seemed like a pony cracking their neck, about to fight. Spike started up suddenly and excused himself to clean up. Twilight silenced Cherry from speaking up about it with a simple wave of her hoof and a significant look. Spike was far more easily frightened than Twilight; and besides, Twilight mused, Cherry Garden and her should talk alone.
Twilight enveloped the canvas in her field of magic and levitated it in front of her; incidentally, she told herself, it prevented an unwanted possibility of seeing that ear again.
"Cherry Garden, please follow me out into the next room where we will have more free space?" she said without removing her barrier.
Cherry Garden assented. She backed her saddle bag, empty save for the painting of Discord, and followed Twilight out into the living room, and then into the library.
Twilight held the painting behind her, as though considering where to place it on the walls; the gesture effectively blocked Cherry's view of her. She didn't do this intentionally, at first. That fact was that, despite memories from what she had learned about Cherry Garden, and even the overwhelming feelings of something almost like peace she got from the painting, Cherry Garden was making her feel increasingly uncomfortable. She could almost feel her gaze boring through the painting and into her. The sound of her hoof-steps: Cherry Garden was standing as close as possible behind her, probably nearly right up against the canvas.
She's been through so much, though, she told herself. How do I expect to her to behave? Well, certainly not like this! She trotted to another corner of the room. "Where would you place it, Cherry?" Her voice sounded so artificial: just keeping appearances. What should I say? What should I say? What should I tell her? She's a suffering pony--the strangest, most volatile pony I've met, but still a lonely and suffering pony.
"I can't very well see anythin' with ya holding the painting in front of me like that! Put it up somewhere so I can see how it looks on the walls."
"Cherry Garden, this painting, your art, is simply amazing! I could really see you becoming very famous one day. Hey! I can even help! Princess Celestia is the ruler of all Equestria and my teacher, after all. If any pony can spread the word of your amazing talent and help you sell your paintings, it's her! You may even become known as the most celebrated artist; you'll be considered one of the best! Seriously, your paintings are like nothing I've ever seen: they're powerful and full of life! Then you won't have to struggle anymore, right? Then you'll have friends? Then you'll have many ponies who'll love you!" Where had that come from? Twilight spun around and threw the painting aside like scrap-paper in the wind.
Cherry Garden was on the floor, head fallen, tears streaming down her face.
Twilight's first impression was of Cherry crying out of happiness: tears of thanks. She smiled. All she really needs is a friend who loves her. The thought filled her heart with warmth. She felt she had meant every word she said about Cherry Garden's work. And heck, once she became a well recognized artist, her eccentricities and passionate nature would even become a kind of legend among artists. Suddenly that ear became more a thing to celebrate rather than a thing to be dreaded; it too became part of the art. It was for her a profound moment that took only an instant to create. She quietly told Cherry Garden. She was very proud of herself.
It was a profound moment that took only an instant to destroy, and burst into flames. Cherry Garden's tears, she knew, were tears of agony.
Cherry Garden struck out and hit Twilight across the face. Her eyes were livid and wild. She looked like a monster!
"You're a monster! That would be among the grossest atrocities! To be thought of like that--to be frozen, to be an idol--I would rather kill myself!" Her eyes widened. She turned away from Twilight and put a hoof to her throat. She coughed painfully, breathed hard, and returned, her eyes glowing with hot tears. "Twilight, don't ever say that! Don't ever do it! Ponies would see me for someone I am not. They would see me idealized. They would place me on a stand, atop a pillar, completely isolated, upon which I could not be touched and from which I could not touch others. They would praise me for what they think they know about me, which I account far worse than the position I am in now! As an idol, I'd become nothing more than an idea of their own creation, far from who I am--I would cease to live and become stale in their minds. Oh Celestia! I would rather kill myself than see that day when I become the lowest I can become! I have pretty much decided to kill myself..." A terrifying monster of loneliness reared its ugly head within her. She shook her mane wildly, attempting to shake those painful memories from her head, muttering to herself so Twilight could not hear: "These dark shadows that fill me with terror!"
Twilight fell back, again completely stunned by Cherry Garden's incoherent ranting.
"I'm sorry," Cherry burst out. "I'm sorry! I didn' mean to hit ya... I... I..." She lost herself and trembled as though she had a fever. Her teeth chattered and her mutilated ear twitched disgustingly. She couldn't speak and could hardly breathe. She looked as though she would fall into convulsions. Such were the feelings of loneliness in her heart that translated into feelings of real physical pain.
"I'm leaving," she gasped. "I won't bother you again!"
Memories of her life had flashed before her. The countless ponies around her who pronounced her worthless. Her late appearing cutie mark. The heartless rejection and even verbal abuse from multiple love-interests she had had. The starvation she went through for lack of money and kindness shown to her. Even the selling of her own body brought no funds to ease her lot. Her murdering a fellow painter. Her dearest and closest painter-friend striking her down. The slow cutting off of her own ear. The hopelessness. The hallucinations. Being admitted into an asylum. Her own parents rejecting her. Her younger sister's whole-hearted devotion to her touched her with particular pain: it was all wasted on a wretch like her! The agonizing pain of her loneliness. She recalled her few friends. She wondered if she would ever see them again.
She choked and opened the front door. She wished it was all over now. It would be soon.
No! I am her friend too! I have to act! Twilight shot up and held Cherry's hoof in her gentle magic, which she replaced with the gentle touch and tender warmth of her own hooves. Cherry Garden's face blanched, pale as a ghost. Twilight let her hooves drop. Her head sunk and fell into her shoulders. She was about to say something in protest, but could not.
"It's late," Cherry Garden breathed painfully.
Twilight took a step back and swallowed audibly. She forced a smile which Cherry warmly returned as mechanically as a mirror.
"Thank you, my dearest friend."
The words sounded as though they came from beyond a wall. Cherry started down the path, repressing the increasing pain and difficulty breathing, leaving Twilight a look like a promise to see her again. She floated away like a vaguely familiar wraith.
Cherry Garden smiled strangely. Twilight Sparkle knew the smile to be one of suffering.
"Good-bye for today. I have to go out to work."
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wow.
3164838
Either I did very well, bad, or you haven't read yet
3166000 you did amazing!
3166024Stop it! You always know how to make me blush!
I hope it was worth it
3166034 Hey, Twilight needed a good hoof to the face.
3166091
Somewhat
3166097 I can't wait to see your other fics.
NEW HEADCANON!!! Catherine is NOT an earth pony!
3166111
How ya figure?
3166111By the way, before I forget again, what did you do to the FIRST PRINCE?
3166115 her magic ability surpassing even the highest-grade earth pony magic, her tail, the fact she looks Manechurian... (that's pony China)
She's a Bai-ma, a member of the unicorn family that has no horn, can use magic.... and can produce a tiger-like roar with the force of the average FUS RO DAH!!!!
3166134The name was already taken *searches and returns to find that I couldn't find it, and your comment deleted*
That's a pretty epic headcannon for Cat
3166157 I didn't want her to be alone in the world. she could be an outcast, but at least there's an ENTIRE SPECIES with her abilities and possibly mannerisms.
3166172I'm still building my headcannon for her...
3167529 well, at least you're honest, just like Carrot Top
3167629Or....
fc02.deviantart.net/fs70/f/2012/210/4/b/applejack___guardian_of_honesty_by_blackkiriin-d590s0w.png
3167642 and you're modest, like the element of kindness, Ditzy
3167698Thank y--
Ohmai, what have I found?!
fc00.deviantart.net/fs70/f/2012/225/1/e/huge_fluttershy_by_ritualist-d5az000.jpg
3167705 it's ugly.
Ugly!
UGLY!
UGLYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!!!! *firing the machine gun*
3167784
That's what is so funny about the pic!
Fine, here, Braeburn will help:
twentypercentcooler.net/data/sample/6a/b6/6ab6c7dd3393bbe40584c84f6e028c3a.jpg?1367656227
3167791 Yes.
Question....what kind of story is this?! Its so weird and I couldn't understand half of it.
3489988That's not good... I didn't do my job well
It's a slice-of-life with an odd sad kinda of thing undercurrent. It's more of a portrait of a character--i'm honestly not sure how to define it myself. I usually just write what my characters do.
Well, that was a thing. On the one hand, the tone of the piece is remarkably evocative of its content; on the other, Twilight never did resolve things with the other Bearers, which makes this feel unfinished.
4247513 Hmmm... I appreciate the insight, thank you
And thank you very much for the read
I know somepony who'd like your art, Cherry Garden, if you're anything like the artist Van Gogh: Princess Luna!