> Home In a Flash
>  by shortskirtsandexplosions
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Homecoming
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	"Say, buddy, wasn't that your stop?"

As the train accelerates to a rattling speed, I turn away from a window looking onto pastoral green blurs.  A bright-eyed mountain of a stallion in a tightly-pressed uniform stands above me, occupying the whole center aisle of the car.  Despite his size, he's insultingly young, even down to his toasty-brown freckles.

"Dream Valley!" he adds with an emphatic blink.  "You weren't supposed to get off there?"

"Huh?  Oh..."  I chuckle through a soft smile.  "Nah, I'm off at the next station."

"Wow!  Ponyville?  You don't say!"  He heaves a canvas bag over his beefy shoulder and invites himself into the seat next to me.  Thud!  His breath is warm, doughy.  Gingerbread.  "Me too!  That's awesome!  Heh... and here I figured you'd be aiming for the Cloudsdale chariots at Green Valley!"

"Hmmm..."  I smirk slyly, flexing my wing between us.  "I wonder whatever gave you that idea."

"I'm just not used to guard pegasi hailing from Ponyville!"

"Then you haven't lived there long."

"Pffft.  As if."  He nods.  "Where'd you serve?"

"Hmmm?"

He sits back proudly, his ears perking up like the golden foils of an invisible helmet.  "Ice Burns, of the Twenty-Second Legion.  We marched regularly all along the Griffon border."

"Ah..."  I nod.  "General Trotstock."

"Brushed elbows with the ol' bastard himself!"

"And you've lived through it."

"How about you?"

"Hmmm..."  I shrug and glance out the window in time to catch the glitter of a gray sky against a rippling lake.  "Far north.  Crystal Kingdom."

"Whoah, you're pulling my leg!"

"It... it was a good post."  I become aware of two reflections trotting across the windows.

A pair of stallions murmur hushedly behind me, dragging their bulging saddlebags alongside them.

"Silver, just go in there, for goddess' sake.  Talk to the dayum mare."

"I can't, Spit!  My tour's over.  Just look at the mare!  The poor thing's frazzled.  She'll be going back in a month, perhaps less."

"So?"

"You can see it in her eyes.  Ain't no room for nuzzling."

"Luna alive, why do you always friggin' do this to yourself?"

"Just stop teasing me about it, dude!"

"Fine.  But I'm making us sit here.  Maybe it'll convince you to be a stallion for once."

"Unnnngh—Then she might see me!"

"A harbinger for Ragneighrok if I ever saw one."  A tall, chiseled stallion with a dark mane turns—double-taking at the sight of my unwitting seat-buddy.  "Ice.  Where in Tartarus were you earlier?"

"Yeah!"  The other stallion leans in, a frazzled sandy-maned thing with amber eyes glued pensively on the door to the car behind us.  "We lost you at the last stop!"

"Spit!  Silver!  Check it out!"  Ice Burns next to me shakes my shoulder, showing off the crystalline purple patch on my uniform.  "Crystal Empire post!"

"Ooooh..."  Mr. Sandy-Mane finally wrenches his eyes off the next car and gawks at me.  "I didn't know pegasus guards were stationed that far north!"

"Not all of us are made of enchanted minerals," I say with a smirk.

"He's from Ponyville!" Ice Burns grins proudly.  "Just like the rest of us!"

"Stop shaking his shoulder, Ice," the tall one drones.  "Uhm... the uniform...?"

"Oh, snap!"  He leans away from me, wincing.  "Sorry, bro."

"Ice..."  Sandy-mane face-hoofs.  "...friggin' idiot."

"It's... it's alright," I say, straightening my jacket as I exhale.  "It probably won't be seeing much ceremony after this last ride."

"Wait, you mean...?"

I nod.  "Got my last tour done with.  I'm on reserve now."

"Hey!  Awesome!"  Ice glances up at the tall one.  "Just like you, Spit!"

"Don't rub it in," he drones.  "This all still feels like some surreal dream to me."

"I swear!"  Sandy-mane slinks into the seats in front of ours and peaks nervously at the next car.  "She looked this way!  Just now!"

"Give it a rest, Silver Shoe."  The stallion to my left rolls his eyes, then grins.  "Check it.  These are my best pals from back home."  He gestures towards the tall one.  "Spit Shine, who's done his share of liberating Stalliongrad."

"And darn glad for it too," he grumbles, sitting across the aisle from us.

"And this basket-case is Silver Shoe," he says, containing his chuckles as he reaches over to ruffle the sandy hair of the stallion before us.  "We're gonna be serving together along the Eastern Shores next month—assuming he doesn't kill himself over pining for a nurse in the meantime."

"Unnnngh... knock it off, Ice!"

My seat-buddy smiles at me.  "And I'm Ice Burns, like I said before.  What's your name?"

"Flash Sentry," I say.

"Appropriate name," Spit Shine says.

I nod.  "Family tradition."

"No wonder you seem to have everything together," Silver Shoe says.

I shrug.  "It was an honor to serve under Captain Shining Armor."

"An honorable headache, you mean," Ice Burns said.

I squint at him.

He winces, but hides it with a tittering smile.  "Only th-that I heard he was pr-pretty darn strict when he ran the show in Canterlot as Captain of the Guard."

"That was before he got married into royalty," Silver Shoe says with a foalish smile.  "What's the nickname they've all got for him now?  'Private Princess of the Princess' Privates?'"

Ice Burns laughs a squeaky laugh.  "Ah, jeez!  That's horrible!"

"Not to mention inaccurate," I say, smiling.  "I assure you that Captain Shining Armor hasn't softened up in any way whatsoever.  And the first guard he hears so much as whispering that nickname will undoubtedly find himself scrubbing the underhang of the Crystal Tower for a solid month."

"Brother, I believe you."

"Did you see much action?" Spite Shine asks with a serious gaze.  "In the frozen north, I mean?"

I take a deep breath.  "At first... it was quite hairy.  Snow wyrms and windigos commonly roamed the landscape beyond Princess Cadance's magical barrier.  Oddly enough, most of the trouble came from the citizens themselves."

"You mean the Crystal Ponies?"

"Yes.  All of them had just awoken from thousands of years of limbo.  Everyday, there was at least half-a-dozen cases of ponies running through the streets, stark raving mad, hallucinating about the supposed return of Sombra."

"But he got dealt with... right?"

"Oh yes.  Yes."  I lean my chin against my hoof and gaze out the blurring window.  "He got taken care of, alright."

"Well, from the way I hear it, you did a pretty good job," Ice Burns says.  "Each day, there's a new article in the newspaper touting the Crystal Kingdom as the safest place in Equestria."

"Thank you," I say.

"Unless you count the Equestrian Games," Silver Shoe mutters.

Ice Burns chuckles while I point a hoof.  "Now that wasn't our fault," I say with a bitter grin.  "Madame Harshwhinny insisted that a private security force monitor the games and ceremonies.  Cadance authorized it, which is how my unit and I ended up sitting in the background, watching as a bunch of idiots almost cost the lives of thousands of ponies with their damn stupid anti-magic field."

"Money and patronage ain't no replacement for true military grit," Spit Shine says.

I lean across the aisle to bump hooves with him.  "Damn straight."  The earth ponies in uniform share a good chuckle around me.

Ice Burns says, "You're pretty cool, Flash.  How come the boys and I haven't seen you around Ponyville before?"

"Hrmmmf..." I shrug.  "I enlisted young.  Before that, I was a weather flier like my father before me."

"For real?" Silver Shoe asks.

"I learned to fly at age five.  Kicked clouds at age six."  I lean back in my seat, resting a lazy forelimb atop my hefty brown saddlebag.  "But weather flying doesn't earn much in Ponyville, and it's not like my music talent was going to roll in the bits.  So, I fell into family tradition.  I closed the house down, marched to Canterlot, and haven't looked back since."

"How many years did you serve the Kingdom?"

"Unngh..."  I rub my brow, squinting at the sparsely filled seats ahead of us.  "As of this August, it'll have been seven years.  Three in Canterlot, two on the Eastern Shores, and two in the Frozen North."

"Bite your tongue!"  Ice Burns gawks.  "You barely look twenty!"

"The Canterlot Bureau was never all that good at gauging pegasus years."  I smirk devilishly.  "That's why I didn't go to the offices in Cloudsdale.  There, they know to count the quills on your wing."

"Good grief..."  Spit Shine face-hoofs.

"So I may have put on the helmet just a tad bit early," I say smugly.

"Heheheh..."  Silver Shoe grins.  "Well, your secret's safe with us."

"Thanks."

Ice Burns hoof-bumps with me.  "Don't mention it, pal."

For the next hour and a half, the four of us talk about our various tours of duty.  And by that, I mean that they talk while I mostly listen and nod.  Their stories and jokes make a soft soundtrack to the world streaking by my window.  It feels like centuries since I've seen the earth this green... this soft.

It's wet and miserable and rainy.  I can scarcely see the sunbeams through the thick gray clouds above.  Somehow, it doesn't seem to matter.  The sky is in tearful release.  I stare at it until I almost feel something.

The train rattles, forcing a gasp out of Silver Shoe's mouth, jarring me back to the conversation that I'm supposedly taking part in.  "You mean they'll be waiting there at the station?"

"Of course they'll be freakin' there!"  Ice Burns grins.  "Everypony's going to be there!  It's not just us four morons getting leave!"  He winces and smirks at me.  "No offense, Flash."

"What am I being offended by?"

"Ponyville's notorious for homecomings that are almost as big and extravagant as their send-offs," Ice Burns says.  He clenches his jaw.  "Of course, you would know that."

"Yes, I suppose I would..."

"Ma's already written to me," Ice Burns says, and already I can see his freckles brimming with something like candlelight.  "She's going to have the whole gang there!  All of the Harvest Family will be ready to swoop me up in their hooves!"

"Wow, that sounds awesome, Ice!" Silver Shoe says.

"Yeah, well, don't get your hopes up," Spit Shine drones.

"What's that supposed to mean?!" Ice retorts.

"It's a rainy day."

"So?"

"So... it's a Luna-damned rainy day."

"You think that's gonna stop 'em from galloping to the station to greet their favorite son?!"

Silver Shoe smirks.  "You mean their one son who's lucky enough to have three scrapes with Griffon separatists and live to tell about it."

Ice slaps the back of the seat in front of him.  "Good enough!"

"Well, I for one hope you get a warm greeting," I say, smiling.  "Celestia knows, the action you've seen, you deserve one, Ice."

"Thank you, Flash!  Finally, a brother-in-hooves who appreciates the work I've done for this kingdom!"

"Yes, because scrubbing General Trotstock's latrine is soooooo heroic."  Spit yawns.

"Dude, shut up!"

Silver Shoe laughs.

"How about you, Silver?" I ask.

"Hmmm?  What?"  Silver blinks, then blushes slightly.  "Uhhh... my Mom and Dad might show up.  And my sis, I guess."

"All he really cares about is that nurse he's been ogling in the next train all ride," Spit Shine says.

"I am not ogling her!  I gave up on the mare an hour ago!"

"Now there's a bright step in your career."

"Grrrrrr... Spittttttt!"

"Seriously, just trot on over there and talk to her!" Ice says with a smirk.

"And just what the hay would I say?!"

I shrug and remark, "The usual sob story might work.  You are going back on tour sooner than later.  You won't have much time together."

"So seize the day!"  Ice Burns grins.  "With one saddle between you!"

"Ugh!  Face it.  She'd think I'm just a freak."

"From the colors on her uniform, I'm guessing she's patched soldiers up along the  Chimaeric Conflict Zone," Spit says, rubbing his chin.  "Odds are she's seen enough crud to ever bother vomiting at you."

"Thanks.  That's sooooo reassuring," Silver moans.

"Glad I could help."

"You've got a family waiting for you, don't ya, Spit?" Ice asks pleasantly.

Spit shrugs.  "Meh."

"That's it?  'Meh?'"

"I'm more concerned about how I'm going to earn money now that I'm back for good," he says.  "Unless someone in Ponyville is starting a business for those qualified in rending wild timberwloves to shreds, I doubt I'll have much luck."

"You never know," I say with a smirk.  "It's Ponyville."

"Yeah!"  Ice nods, wide-eyed.  "Have you guys read the papers?  It's like one friggin' thing after another each month!"

"Seems the place needs guards."

"I bet Ponyville will be the safest it's ever been for the next month while we're all there," Silver says.

"Not the mares, though," adds Spit.

We share an infectious cackle between us, and somehow the conversation melts into something else entirely.  Silver Shoe starts talking about his dad's business.  For such a boring topic, he sets it all on fire with the enthusiasm brimming in his amber eyes.  Spit Shine brings up degree programs with the University of Fillydelphia, about how he's laying out his plans to excel in architectural engineering.

That's Ice Burns' cue to bring things back down to a simple level, and suddenly these three earth ponies are talking about agriculture in one cohesive voice.  Spit Shine and Silver Shoe get into a brief argument about the proper way to plant corn, and suddenly the topic bleeds into irrigation and seasonal planting.  I've never seen a group of ponies so insanely passionate over farming... and yet I have.  Between the spaces of their words, I hear the rattle of the train, reminding me where we're all headed, and for the first time since I left the northern frost, my insides chill over.

"Just one bite... just one single bite of her daffodil pasta," Ice Burns coos, sniffing the air above an invisible dinner plate.  "Before I ship out again—that's all I ask."

"Careful, soldier."  Silver Shoe chuckles.  "At this rate, it'll be more than your mouth that'll water."

"So sue my horseshoes off!"  Ice Burns sniffles, but smirks.  "I'm going to be home, dude.  Not R&R, not a base transfer... but home."

"For only a few weeks," Spit murmurs.

Ice points at him.  "You don't get to talk!"  He pouts.  "You're staying for the course!  Silver and I get our flanks sent back out to duty!"

"And I've already told you—I'll be sure to write you sappy dumbasses."

"Yeah, like what I really need out in the field is a folded-up piece of your cynicism, packaged all neatly inside an envelope."

"Not like your tears would fit any better in 'em either."

"Bro, shut up!" Ice Burns' voice cracks.

"Hahaha!"  Silver Shoe guffaws, slapping the back of his seat.  He smirks my way.  "How about you, Flash?  You happy to stretch your wings on your lonesome from now on?"

"Yeah!"  Ice rubs his eyes and grins.  "Without any sergeant screaming at you to fly 'this way' or 'that?'"

"Mmmm... more or less," I say.  "I'm just glad that I have it all behind me."

"Awwwwww, come on, Flash."  Ice nudges me with his forelimb.  "I'm sure you'll have your fair share of fond things to look back at!"

"Maybe not from the last post."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I got a written reprimand."

"What in Tartarus for?"

"For actually bumping into a member of royalty while on duty.  Twice."

"Oh... ouch..."

"Bummer, dude."

"Yeah," I mutter, turning to stare out the window.  "Not exactly my proudest moment."  My eyes start spinning.  I wonder why, until I realize that I'm tracing the swishing blades of a windmill.  The windmill.  My lips purse and I feel a breath escape me.  Thankfully, it's Ice Burns who says it out loud instead.

"There it is," he murmurs in an off-distance voice.  "Home..."

I suddenly realize that the best way to drink it all in is to stare at them.  Ice's eyes are immediately glossy.  There's a tremble to Silver's shoulders, and even Spit Shine's rigid ears are drooped.

The whistle of the train sounds overhead.  The squeal of train wheels.  We lurch and lurch and coast to a gliding stop.  I feel heartbeats through the floor of the train car.  At least three of them.

"I can't see the loading area from here," Silver remarks, craning his neck against the gray windows.  "Is it... I mean are they—?"

"Buck this, dudes.  I am so out of here...!"

"Will you at least wait for us?" Spit remarks.  "Or at least for the train to come to a full stop?"

"Dude, we're stopped!"  Ice barks, slinging his bag over his uniformed back.  "If we were any more stopped than this, they'd build a coffin around us!  Now let's bail!"

"Wait!"  Silver Shoe scrambles to catch up with the freckled stallion.  "I wanna meet the Harvest Family too!"

"Now this I have to see," Spit says with mild amusement.

"Hey!  How about it, Flash?"  Silver glances at me, fumbling at the last second to straighten his collar.  He smiles.  "Want in on this?"

"Yeah!"  Ice calls over his shoulder.  "Hop along, Flash!  Our families should be right outside this instant!"

I stand up, smiling.  "Nothing would give me greater pleasure."

"Move!  Move!"  Silver Shoe scurries along while Spit sighs and picks up the rear.  "Go go go go!"  Ice snickers as the two fumble to squeeze out the passenger doors of the train.

With my saddlebags tucked neatly around me, I trot out to follow them.  When I step out onto the train, the moist smell of fresh rain is pungent in the air.  I feel like I've been gone from my true post for too long.  But once the fragrance of the soil and tilled earth reaches my nose from beyond, I'm reminded as to why.

The air haunts me with each breath.  I stumble on numb hooves, piercing the steamy mists of the train and its engine.  All I hear are the shouts and squeals of ponies young and old.  All around me, families reunite with long-lost souls dripping one by one out of the train like blood-drops.

"Horseapples!" Ice gasps, his wide-eyes tracing the thatched golden rooftops.  He focuses on a slender spot in the distance.  "That friggin' clock tower is still there!"

"I thought they were gonna tear it down!"

"Guess they needed a monument to returning idiots," Spit says.

"Ohhhh come on, Spitttt!  Don't ruin the moment!"

"What moment?  It's like a monsoon made love to this place."

"I wouldn't have it any other way."  Ice takes a deep, deep breath, spreading his forelimbs wide to the moist air like a lover.  "Goddess, will you smell that rich earth!"

"Holy crap..."  Silver pulls at his sandy mane. "Are we in or out of planting season?!  I can't friggin' remember!"

"I don't friggin' care!"  Ice Burns grins a crescent moon, spinning about and shouting, "Yo, where all the Harvests at?!  Your boy's back in town to see ya!  Woo!"

"Omigosh... omigosh..."  Silver shudders with a pleasant grin.  "I'm so dang excited."

"Well, there's one reason not to be," Spit says, pointing down the station platform.  Beneath a shadowy overhang, a familiar nurse in a familiar uniform is leaping tearfully in the embrace of a not-so-familiar police officer.  "Looks like somepony's sweetheart has already been pulled over."

"Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww dude...!" Silver Shoe positively deflates.

"Hah hah hah hah!"  Ice Burns bellows, slapping his knee.

I chuckle and reach over to pat Silver's shoulder.  "Sorry, bro."

"Eh..."  Silver shrugs with a bittersweet smile locked on the happily sobbing mare.  "It was a nice dream while it lasted."

"Well, you're home now," I say.  "Plenty of chances to have even better dreams while lying down in your own bed."

"Yeah, alone," Ice Burns sputters, winking.

"Ha ha... very funny..."

Ice Burns chuckles... chuckles... and wipes his eye dry.

"Ice?"

The stallion freezes, his hulking frame reduced to a timid flutter in one instance.

"Icicle?"

He turns.  I watch as a smile turns into a grimace and then melts right back into a grin, pulled into place by foalish freckles.  His canvas bag flaps behind him like a windsock as he gallops across the platform at full speed.  His charge ends on a dime just milliseconds before he might tackle a middle-aged mare.  The pony nuzzles her chin into his burly neckline, surrendering to his embrace with giggling little sobs.

Not long after, a cluster of farm ponies shuffle over, some of them holding signs that bear the name of the stranger I met on a train just two hours ago.  Red-headed stallions and mares gather around, giving the mother and her colt some space.  Then, as the minute wears on, Ice Burns wipes his cheek dry and tilts his smile around, exchanging hoof-bumps and hugs with various members of the extended family.  Confused little fillies and colts hang about on the fringes, gazing all around the station with innocently blinking eyes.

"Can't believe the Harvests have gotten bigger," Silver says, shaking his head with a smirk.

"Yes," Spit remarks.  "They do seem to live up to their name."

"That they do.  Awww, dude, look at 'em!  If only Trotstock could see him n—"  Suddenly, Silver's amber eyes twitch.  He pivots to the side, straightens out his sandy threads, and stands at attention.

Spit Shine looks over to see why.  He stealthily trots aside, giving room for an old couple to shuffle up from the drizzling rain, followed by a young adult mare, her husband, and two bright-eyed fillies.

Without breaking face, Silver Shoe produces a ritual salute.  This lasts for about the space of three seconds before the old stallion breaks down and wraps his son up in a dear hug.  Silver does his stoic best to remain resolute, a noble act which crumbles around the time his mother joins the embrace, nuzzling him closely with multiple "Welcome home's" and "We're so proud of you's" donated in between tender kisses and cheek-rubs.

Moments later, Silver parts from the hug, trots over, and gives the crying mare a close hug.  Not long after, he kneels down and smiles at the shy little fillies, reaching out to shake their hooves—then promptly gasping at how "big" they've grown in his absence.

I do believe it's the last detail in particular that pulls a warm breath from my lungs.  I smile contently, gazing at the bubbly clusters of reuniting ponies.  "Hmmf... almost enough to melt any heart... even yours, eh, Spit?"

Silence.

I glance curiously aside.  "Spit?"

He's standing right next to me, but he's in a whole 'nother world.  Across the platform, beside the station building, there stands a mare who's frozen just like him.  Her golden-blonde mane flutters around a gaping expression.

I'm startled by the thump of Spit Shine's bag.  In one fell swoop, he rushes across the platform and scoops her up into a tender hug.  His muzzle hides in those sweet bangs, and I think I hear a colt sobbing somewhere.

"I thought you wouldn't stay... I-I could have sworn you had left..."

"I couldn't leave.  I couldn't ever leave..."

"Cloud Kicker, darling, I'm sorry.  All the things I said... th-that I wrote..."  A painful shudder.  "Will you ever f-forgive me...?"

"Why do you think I'm here, Shine?"  She kisses and kisses his cheek before nuzzling his shoulder with a pained smile.  "Stop being sorry.  For once, just smile..."

"You bet your life.  Goddess above..."

"We're together now.  We'll work it out.  I promise."

He chuckles deliriously, leaning back so he can lift her up in his strong forelimbs.  She shrieks briefly, then falls into giggles, falls into him with a flutter of gray feathers.

I watch with a gentle exhale.  A weak smile crosses my lips.  Graciously, I backtrot away from the scene.  That's when I feel myself bumping into a dainty figure.

"Good h-heavens!" she gasps from behind me.

I spot a fragile white box falling to the earth in the corner of my vision.  Without thinking, I've slinked three feet to my left in a nimble crouch.  My outstretched wing catches the container, much to the dumb awe of a palpitating unicorn with bright blue eyes.

"Whoops!" I wince, then chuckle with relief as I regain my balance.  I recognize the box in an instance:  Sugarcube Corner.  The smell of cake frosting and sprinkles tickles my nose.  "Heh... close call, huh?"

"That's quite a c-catch!" she stammers, white-as-a-sheet.  It takes me a few seconds to realize it's her natural color.  "I'm terribly sorry—"

"No, it's my bad."

"Oh, but I must apologize.  Truly," she says, gracefully levitating the box out of my grasp with light-blue magic.  "I was just on my way across town when I r-ran into... into... this!"  She gazes emphatically at the crowded platform with a stupefied grin.  "I mean... I had no unearthly idea!  What an astounding event!"

"Yes, well..."  I shrug with a friendly smile.  "Small town."

"Yes."  She nods.  She looks at all of the families.  She looks at me.  "Quite."

"No harm done?"

"None whatsoever.  Again, a thousand pardons for my clumsiness."

"S'all good."  I wave and trot off.  "Have a pleasant evening."

As I trot down the platform, I glance to my left and my right.  The multiple groups have merged into a communal pool of conversations, laughter, and mutual hugs.  Most of the tears have dried up at this point, and I see various families converging into larger groups, with proud fathers resting their hooves on their sons' shoulders and blissful mothers sharing lasting nuzzles as everypony resurrects old tails of fishing, farm life, and holidays gone by.  At some point, the train rolls away from the station, smoldering off into the dull wetness of the strange world beyond, but it is too warm and pristine here to bother with caring.

I thread my way slowly through the crowd.  My saddlebag hangs heavy, a paltry load compared to the inane things I've carried in many places with many smells but none that carry the same fragrant felicity as right here... and right now.  Of the faces that I see, few are familiar, but they vastly outnumber the ghosts that have blurred by in the furthest, dustiest ends of a strange continent.  Seven years, seven breaths.  I feel neither old nor young... just tired.

Somewhere through the grand melee of smiles and hugs, Ice Burns limps by me, wrestling with a giggling foal who's pounced on his back.  "Gaaah!  Get off!  Scram, ya little scamp!  I'm gonna hammer you to the barn!"  As the colt runs off, giggle-shrieking, Ice Burns reels about, catching sight of me with puffy red eyes.  "Duuuuude..."  He shrugs with his shoulders, chuckling with mild hysterics as his pupils turn even glossier.  "Frickin' insane, huh?"

"Heh... I'm happy for you, Ice."  I breathe through a warm smile.  "It was fantastic meeting you."

"N'awww, bro!  Don't say it like that!"  He reaches over and slaps my shoulder.  "Come hang out with us!  Silver's bound to be there!  Hell, we can maybe talk Spit into it as well!"

"Thanks, but... y'know..." I peel his forelimb off and smirk, shrugging.  "Places to be..."

He stares at me.  He nods.  "Yeah.  Yeah, alright.  Sure."  A sniffle.  He hoof-bumps me, but follows it up immediately with a threatening smirk.  "But we will catch up.  Ya hear?!"

"Heh... yeah, sure..."

"Can't escape the Harvests in this town!  Nosiree!  We're family!!"  He slaps his own massive chest and teeters around.  "Ooh-ra!"  Suddenly, an explosive gasp.  "Golden!  How arrrrrre ya!"  He rushes over and throws his forelimbs around a happily crying mare.  "Celestia on a bike, sister!  How's my favorite little Carrot Top?"

I've swiftly stolen myself away.  As the gathering dwindles behind me, it does so in a faint whimper.  I'm surrounded by quiet buildings and gray clouds on this peacefully rainy afternoon.  This is the Ponyville I know, the village that I remember from the skies.  It's the place that I can bring sunshine to once again.  It's a very pleasant idea, or so I tell myself.

In the windows of storefronts, I see an orange shape in a tan uniform slumping through the muddied streets with a canvas hump on his back.  I turn to look, but suddenly two bodies are scampering towards me.  My heart leaps, but both ponies skirt past my wings, making a passionate bee-line for the train station.  The air dances with giggles and pent-up gasps.

I exhale calmly, and press onwards.

When I reach the east side of town, the rain has stopped, giving way to a gentle hush as the clouds drift swiftly by overhead.  The summer day doesn't know whether it wants to be hot or cold.  I relish in the brief vortex this indecision makes, and it flutters at my bangs as I lead my way over the bridge that spans Ponyville's babbling river.

At last, I reach Sunrise Street.  This place has changed dramatically over the last two years.  No more is this evident than when I'm trotting up the sidewalk past several ghostly familiar apartments.  I look to my right, and there's something standing in the middle of the open field that wasn't there before.  It's a fairly ugly construction: a cylindrical abomination covered in jewels, ponyquins, and multicolored stained glass, like some carousel of vomit.

Nothing can be perfect.  Not even perfection itself.  I know this too well.  I announce it to myself with a sigh, having ascended the flight of stairs that lead to the dull brown front door of my second-story apartment.  There's a peephole that looks in but never out.  I ignore it, instead fumbling with my keys until I grasp the rusted one that I'm looking for.  When the door finally opens, it's with a sepulcher breath.  I shuffle in, dragging my saddlebag along with me.

Closing the door, I'm cocooned in dank gray silence.  I stand still, for fear that the echoes of my hooves are all that will greet me.  There's no sense in delaying it.  I trot forward, one thunderous scuffle at a time.  I look down to see hoof-shaped streaks being made on the dusty floorboards.

Entering the living room, I encounter a forest of white sheets.  Every piece of furniture, every bookcase, every kitchen counter has been dutifully covered.  Dropping my saddlebag to the floor produces a sound reminiscent of a gunshot.  I'm not startled, nor am I disappointed.  I am merely home.

I make my way to the sliding glass window before a second-story balcony.  Yanking the sheet off, I squint through a gray field of dust.  The rainy world lingers outside, bathing me in cool grayness.  Trotting backwards, I yank a sheet off an easy-chair.  Then, with a resounding breath, I slump down and surrender to its worn-in cushions.  Immediately, I'm engulfed in the well-preserved scent of my father's and grandfather's manes.  Musky and stale—like everything else in this place.

But it is my place.  I try meditating on this, as if expecting my heart to leap on the fully graspable truth, but everything is foggy, blurred, and colored with the warm hues of too many ponies and too many limbs and too many families hugging, nuzzling, crying.

I close my eyes.  I don't realize that I've curled into the depths of this chair until I feel myself shivering.  There was a time—a very bleak time—where I fell from a great height, and all that cushioned my fall was a deep powdery bed of Northern snow.  I had laid there—numb and lifeless—until Shining Armor and his fellow guardsponies had retrieved me.  Even to this moment, I haven't had the heart to tell my superiors that I wasn't injured at all.  The snow was just begging to claim me, as the clouds over Ponyville once did, as does this very house and this very scent and this very murmur that's squeezing the tears out of my sockets—

There's a light knocking at the door.

I come out of the darkness with a sharp gasp.  In rapid blinks, crystal ponies sob and rake at stone, then melt away along with the dust of everything.  I'm deafened by my own breaths.

The door rattles again, firmer, more assertive this time.

I can't remember the last time that this has happened.  I can barely remember anything.  Nevertheless, in a zombified stupor, I get up from the chair, trot across the dimly-lit apartment, and shuffle up to the door.  When I open it, I am almost immediately blinded by her whiteness.

Thankfully, the shade of an umbrella hovering above her allows my eyes to focus, and the first thing I see is a graceful smile.  She's not alone.  A timid little fluffball of a unicorn filly stands awkwardly at her side, staring—gawking up at me.

"Uhm, can I help you?" I ask.

"Oh, yes, most certainly you can," the mare says.  Without looking, I immediately recognize the tone of her voice.  From behind her back, she levitates a familiar white box with the Sugarcube Corner logo on it.  "You see, my sister and I have stumbled upon a most perplexing dilemma."  She smiles.  There is nothing flirtatious about it.  Nothing coy, suggestive, or bubbly.  It is warmth itself, and I have to lean against the doorframe to keep from melting as I listen to her.  "I have bought far... far too much cake for my sister and I to eat by our little selves."

"Uhhhh..."  I gulp and glance over their shoulders.  The rain has picked back up, but it isn't enough to wash away a conspicuous pair of tracks leading from the carousel to my second story apartment.  "You don't say?"

"As you can see, it is a most dire circumstance," she says with a flounce to her purple mane.

"Help us eat the cake!" the filly's voice cracks.  She bites her lip, blushes, and squeaks, "Uhm... Please?"

"That is very nice of you to offer, but... uhm..."

"Hmmm?"  The mare cocks her head aside, that sweet smile ever melting.  "I do apologize, sir.  Did we catch you while you were busy with something?"

"I... I..."

My eyes wander sideways.  The world tilts.  Suddenly, I see a stallion with a sandy mane wandering leisurely down the rain-drenched street with his family.  Somepony grins my way.  He knows.  Everypony knows.  I gaze skyward, but the clouds are blurring, turning grayer as the soreness in my throat finally connects to what's been in front of me this whole time.  It's been seven long years.  Somehow, the skies can wait a little longer.

"No..."  The words drop, among other things.  I blink hard so that I can see them.  Smile at them.  "No, I don't think I'm that b-busy at all..."

She curtseys without dropping the umbrella or the box.  I only wish I had that kind of skill.  "May we?"

I open the door wide and lead them into the house.  The filly scampers about, cooing at the strange, silly sheets all around.  By the time I've lit the first of many candles, I see the mare's smile floating before the hearth.

"Ah.  I see.  A good home."