Lyra Heartstrings couldn't tell what was forming the pit at the bottom of her gut, or the ache in her chest, or the pounding in her brain, or the delirium of lights before her eyes... it is another lovely day.
It is another lovely day.
Something was missing.
It was the pit at the bottom of her gut; the growing ache in her chest. The incessant pounding in her brain; the flood of lights she sees when she rests...
"Sunshines to Equestria! Lovely day, isn't it, Flim?"
"A wonderfully lovely day, Flam! Sunshines to Equestria!"
"Hear ye, for we, the Flim Flam brothers, are here to make sure that our lovely ladies and gracious gentlecolts listening right now are in the know!"
"Certainly! Today's headlines: the Sweet Apples Corporation celebrates the fifth anniversary since it's inception. Chief executive Applejack will make announcements regarding future endeavors and will also hold a session to receive feedback from both buyers and staff. So if you have any concerns, please head down to the Twilight District right now! Also, the Fillydelphia city council has finally opened their railway stations after several months of renovations! Heard it was quite the sight, Flim!"
"Indeed it was, Flam! Now, onto the weather! Today is, once again, an entire day of warm sunshine! Go outside! Have a morning jog! Feel the warmth of our Highness's brilliant sun! In fact, I could sure use a jog myself! How about you, Flam?"
"No better way to start the day, I would say! Even better news, do you, Flim, know the results of the Happiness Index?"
"Oh, what I would give to know it! What is it, Flam?"
"Well, Flim, I'm proud to say that Equestria has, once again, continued the streak of an astounding hundred percent!!"
"Astounding, Flam! Hundred percent on the Index yet again! Good to know that our listeners out there are having a jolly good time!!"
"And we, the Flim Flam brothers, are having a jolly good time as well! Stay tuned next time on the Flim Flam Rodeo Breakfast Show, right here on Equestria National Radio! Once again, Sunshines to Equestria, to all our listeners as well! Have a lovely day!"
. . . . . . . . . .
Lyra Heartstrings was not a morning pony.
That is not to say that she loathed mornings. In fact, she absolutely adored everything about mornings! The creeping warmth of the sunshine, the ethereal expanse of the blue sky, the sweet calls of birds, the freshness of the air enveloping the room she slept in; all of it were just a few of her favorite things about mornings. Even if she actually hated mornings, she could find little room to complain. After all, it's in the nature of the sun to rise and announce its arrival to the waking world.
Still, Lyra Heartstrings was not a morning pony.
The millionth groan of the day was a healthy sign of that.
One hoof slumping off the side of her bed, she tried to reach for the bottom of the abyss, though she found it faster than she believed she would. Groggily, she heaved herself off the bed, yawning as she stretched her rear hooves, then her front. It was sensational, feeling every tissue, tendon and muscle tingling wonderfully in her, satisfaction washing out from her mouth in a deep, relaxed sigh. Sated she was, definitely, though not quite enough to wipe the frown off her face.
Another yawn and a shower fared better for her. Strutting out of her bathroom, she found herself humming the jingle for Jubilee's Cherry Gum. She can't quite make out the words — something something sweet and chewy, something Cherry Jubilee — but it was definitely an earworm of a song to be reckoned with. Wiping herself dry with a towel, she took a glance at the mirror, smiling at her now-neater self.
"Sunshines, you cutie," she cooed to her reflection, stifling a giggle. "Why, sunshines to you as well, me!"
A snort escaped the clutches of her throat as Lyra tossed her towel aside and fell back onto the bed. With a hum of delight, she snuggled in her soft pillows and warm covers, her tail swinging side to side. She sighed, glancing dreamily up at the ceiling, which lazily fell to the waiting day outside her window.
"If only the day could wait a little longer," she murmured to herself.
"Sunshines, Lyra. Had a good rest, I presume?"
Sitting up and turning around towards the energetic voice, Lyra smiled as she saw her FERRA floating towards her. FERRA (abbreviated from Friendly and Engaging Roaming Robot Attendee) was the latest domestic robot to be manufactured by Starswirl Incorporated. It was spherical, about the size of an average pony's head and plated in the finest brass, with an indent that held it's singular eye in the center, two flexible triple-pincer claws for arms at its sides and a circular gap at the bottom revealing a rough, purple crystal it was holding within amid its gears, coils, wires and pistons. Being magic crystallized into a rigid form, it emitted a diverging beam of violet that allowed it to float in mid-air, roaming around a given home as it does the endless things the company proclaims it can do: greeting its owners, making coffee, cleaning the house, even tuning in to the radio. With all those promises bundled into one, it's no wonder that every stallion and mare waited in lines just to get their itchy hooves on these robots, Lyra being no exception.
"Sunshines, FERRA," she greeted her trusty robot in return, wearing a wide grin. "Well, lookie here! Somepony already prepared my dose of coffee!"
Sure enough, in its right hand, the robot held a warm mug of her morning beverage, the smell of freshly roasted beans wafting through the room. Carefully, Lyra held it with her magic, warmth flowing through her as she took in the smell, her nerves already jolting awake. "Flat white, double shot with a teaspoon of sugar," FERRA said just as Lyra took a sip. "Hope you like it. I have carefully brewed it to your liking, if you must know."
"It is. The tastiest. Carefully-brewed coffee. I had ever drank." Lyra then broke into a fistful of giggles, hugging her ever-loyal robot tightly. "Thanks FERRA. You always know how to make me happy."
"It is part of my duty, Miss Lyra. I was designed to see to it that my owners are happy."
"Hey, what did I say about the M word?" Lyra nudged, putting up a frown. "Remember, I'm not your owner, FERRA. I'm your friend first."
"Of course, Lyra," FERRA continued sheepishly, picking up the towel the mare had tossed. "I must admit, it is a terrible habit of mine."
"Welp, we're not all perfect. I mean, look at me!" Lyra gestured to herself, the lack of a response prompting her to continue. "Yeah, yeah, I know you have a lot of compliments for me, FERRA—"
"I still have a lot reserved, if you need to hear some more."
"You might— really? There's more? Huh! I thought you'd," — Lyra swallowed a lump — "Um, w-well, em, let's see, is it about my mane or my table manners or... wait, what am I—! AHEM!! A-Anyways, as I was saying, you might have a lot of good things to say, but me being perfect? Never gonna happen. If I'm perfect, I wouldn't be needing you to make my coffee, or spend time taking long showers, or—"
The loud ringing of her alarm clock cut Lyra short, her face paling when she took a glance at the time.
"Horsefeathers, I'm late!!" she exclaimed, rushing out of her bedroom with her robot following closely behind.
"See what I said about not being perfect? Best example, right here, right now. Shoot, what's the excuse, what's the excuse—! Ummm... Quick! Any ideas, FERRA?"
"A busted shower head?"
"Brilliant! Don't know what I'll do without you, bud!"
Without a moment to spare, Lyra gobbled up her toast and chugged down her coffee, smiling with puffed cheeks as she found her scarf snaking around her neck, attended once again by FERRA. Giving it one more hug of appreciation, she hurried towards the door, eager to begin her new day. Turning back to jovially wave her robot goodbye, Lyra marched out of her house, excited to face what the day has in store for her.
One thing's for sure: it was going to be a lovely day. . . .
. . .
"Miss Heartstrings! Sunshines!"
"Sunshines, Mister Jollyforth! Where you off to this fine morning?"
"Headin' back for our second batch of milk! Carve me in the eye if I didn't say we finished our first batch in this avenue alone! Ya hear me, lass! Fifty bottles down our first lane!"
"Well, you have to remember where we are, Mister Jollyforth," Lyra said with a wink, skipping down the pavement. "This is the Twilight District, after all."
The Twilight District: perhaps the busiest of all of the southern districts of Canterlot with names of the reputable and the respected mingling among the common folk in the rusticated, timber-gabled brick houses and apartments along the pavement. Ponies of all shapes and sizes cantered down the roads, light conversations and chatters swarming through the air. There were shouts among the buzz, mostly from the many vendor on the streets craving for an ear at their stalls and a few more bits in their pockets. Some of them traipsed along the streets, hanging baskets around their necks while greeting many a pony that picked their wares along their merry way.
"Sunshines, Lyra!" one of the mares greeted from her stall. "Care for some lilies today? They're fresh from the field!"
"No thanks, Daisy!" Lyra said with a grin. "Besides, I still have that bouquet from last week. Still fresh as ever!"
"Good to know my flowers are in great hooves! Remember, if you need another flower or two, you know where to find me!"
"Of course I do! See you around!"
Lyra had called this place home for as long as she could remember. In fact, she was there ever since its inception. It used to be a small town, the name of which had wandered off into the distance of her memory, until one day came all the contractors and workers that paved their way through the land, turning it into the huddling apartment blocks it is today. Being here since day one, she had already been acquainted with most who live on these streets as well as the regular passing faces she often spotted around here. She was even familiar with the vendors on the street, already recognizing some of them as she trotted onward.
There was the ever enigmatic Time Turner boasting his clockwork machines and brass oddities, luring those of a curious eye with his promises of mystery and wonder. Right on his left was Mr. Breezy and his collection of steel fans, displayed with the assurance to cool off the sweltering heat on any fine day. On the street opposite of those two were Cherry Fizzy, his offers including bottles of his homemade cherry soda and cans of fresh raspberry jam, while on his right stood Florina Tart and her scrumptious blueberry delights, the sames ones that Lyra reminded to savor upon after coming back from work.
"Miss Heartstrings!"
"GAH!! Oh, f-for the love of Celestia," Lyra gasped, trying to snatch her breath back. "Don't come up behind me like that, Mister Riff!"
"Ah, apologies!" replied the stallion that jolted her nerves, known to many as Royal Riff. He was one of the many vendors that she had familiarized with, always trotting up and down the street with the intention to sell from the basket he had hung around his neck. Today was no different from the other days. "Before I forget, Sunshines, Miss Heartstrings. Really sorry about that little scare of mine. I did want to see you though, you know that. Was seeing if you'd change your mind on what we have to offer."
Lyra scrunched up her snout, staring down at the contents of the basket. Unlike most vendors, who had worked for their own gain, Royal Riff was one of the few who was working for one of the larger companies such as the Sweet Apples Corporation, Davenport Inks or Rich & Sons. For Royal Riff, however, he was evidently an employee of Fruit Of The Bloom, a joint venture between Sweet Apples and Starswirl Incorporated, recognized for selling serums, potions and the like. This time, however, it seems they have something new in store.
Their products were laid neatly in the basket; tall pentagon-shaped bottles containing a reddish, slightly viscous liquid. The labels on the bottles proudly declared it to be the sprightly beverage that is known to many as Alma (or Almae, in its plural form), the latest in the series of Cytosols to be manufactured by Fruit Of The Bloom. The booklets perched on the rim of the basket go on even further; alongside the image of a bottle came its bold declaration: . . . .
. . . .
"A single sip, huh?" Lyra read out, raising a brow. Frankly, Lyra never did care about these Cytosols, despite hearing great things about them. Apparently, they supposedly grant the drinker some form of enhancement and boosts their lives, thus the tagline: Cytosol, a bottle for your soul! She had heard great things from the previous addition, a sky-blue liquid labeled as Connie, which grants ponies a little speed in their lives, enabling them to do a multitude of tasks in mere minutes. Her boss had recommended her to try a bottle or two, though she remained a skeptic; with all the quirky quacking of false promises and unrealistic fulfillment, it's not hard to see why.
"Well, I'd love to give it a try, but I'm kinda in a hurry," she said sheepishly, beginning to step away. "Maybe next time, Mister Riff."
"Alright then. Have a lovely day, Miss Heartstrings!"
"You too!"
It was ten minutes of cantering and trotting throughout the various streets and avenues, sometimes cutting through the lesser-ventured alleys. Along the way, Lyra met so many faces, both new and familiar, all busy to strive in this glorious city. Everypony was smiling brightly, much like Celestia's sun hanging in the distance, echoed by stitched replicas from the purple banners hanging from the golden, gilded poles all around. Their greetings were even more exuberant, the mares giving curtsies and the gentlecolts their exquisite bows, to which she returned with the same. Happiness was in the air and she loved it.
Another turn later, Lyra finally made it to her workplace: a three-story apartment building conjoined to a sizable metal warehouse. The broad sliding door of said warehouse was open, its exterior riddled with posters showering praise to Princess Celestia. Lyra couldn't help but chuckle at the sight, knowing how her boss loathed such a sight on her establishment.
"You're late, Lye."
From within the warehouse emerged Vinyl Scratch in a shoddy, black-stained apron, her magic grasping upon a drill, an assortment of gears and a rusted oil canister. A good friend as well as her manager, Lyra had known Vinyl long enough to know her secrets and fantasies, having stood by her friend's side at every moment, especially on the grand opening of Vinyl's little business venture and her office, Crescendo Restorations, assuring any customer to see their broken gizmos and gadgets see the light of another day.
"Sunshines, Vinyl," Lyra attempted to speak nonchalantly, taking a meek gander at her friend. "Lovely day we're having, huh? From the looks of it, you guys were busy in the morning already. Early bird catches the worm, as they always say, right Vinyl? Vinyl?"
"Let me guess. A busted shower head?"
"Dammit."
"You're not fooling anybody, Lye. I've been tinkering with FERRAs for a living now. You know, they always come up with the funniest excuses: burnt breakfast, jammed washing machine, overturned carriage blocking the front door..."
"Hey, that carriage one was a great excuse," Lyra protested, though the knit brows of her friend already gave the reply. "Ugh... fine, fine, I'll take on poster duty."
"Good choice, Lye! Scrapers in the toolbox!"
With a small sigh, Lyra dragged herself into her workplace. For a maintenance store, it was quite spacious, one side blockaded with shelves of various trinkets, accessories, machine parts and the like, the other bestowing their tables and walls taped with various blueprints and instructions. Large coned lamps hung at the ceiling, bringing to light some of the larger robots and contraptions that were strewn around the floor mid-repair, as well as some of their bigger tools in their arsenal. The only other exit was a single door at her right, leading into the adjacent building: the apartment where Vinyl, along with a few others, call their home.
As she marched over to her desk, a flurry of blue sparks came into view, coming from a mare welding one of the FERRA's three metal pincers back to its detached arm on the floor. Upon spotting Lyra, the mare stopped in her tracks, stood up and lifted her visor, revealing the smug grin she was wearing underneath.
"Seems like somepony's early today," the mare remarked.
Lyra tried her best not to grit her teeth. "Sunshines, Lightning Dust," she acknowledged the greeting, inspecting the various contraptions scattered around. "Wow... you guys did a lot of work when I'm not around."
"Bet your flank we did, Heartstrings, but there's lots more. Two FERRAs, a jukebox, three gramophones, four engines from the trams, around six or so radios, in fact— oh, and we got the biggest catch of them all."
"You don't mean..."
"Yep. One order from the guard to fix a CASS."
"No way!" Lyra giggled, dragging Lightning Dust into a tight hug, the athletic mare gasping out a single breath. "Did Vinyl know about it?"
"Course I did," Vinyl's voice made them turned their heads, watching their boss step back in. Their eyes lit up when she brought in, within a whisk of her magenta-hued magic, the broken CASS (Canterlot Airborne Security Scout), a complex robot that bore the gallant and benevolent figure of an eagle. Along with it was an assortment of cogs, wires and springs which, Lyra presumed, spilled from the gaping, soot-rimmed hole on the side.
"That," she began, noticing her friends staring, "came from an arcane power surge. Gave some ponies quite a scare in the morning, I bet," Vinyl chuckled, placing it carefully on the table. "It's the largest job offer we had in, I'd say, a while. Would pay off the bills for the next few weeks."
"Makes you wonder why we don't have more of these orders in the first place."
"Well, the guard would usually try their best to fix it themselves or get some 'experienced' engineers from Starswirl Inc. to do it. The fellow that came to us probably found the time to grow the other half of his brain," Vinyl answered Lightning's question, letting out a snort. "Anyways, I'll be dealing with CASS here. You girls handle the other orders. When the rest come back, I'll ask them to help out."
With that said, Vinyl Scratch headed to her work station, leaving Lyra and Lightning to their own devices. Remembering her poster duty, Lyra grabbed her scraper and trotted outside, once more taking down the posters showing the revered Princess Celestia standing gallantly with her bright sun shining its glory behind her, with whatever text engraved into them finding a million or so ways to praise her.
"Witness the Glory of the Day," Lyra muttered out one of them softly. "Heh... witness this!"
Scrape after scrape, poster after poster fell to the simple maneuvers of Lyra Heartstrings. It wasn't as extravagant as playing the lyre — a hobby turned profession that couldn't afford to spread its wings in the little time she had — but it certainly did the job. She often wondered how many posters do the princess have underneath her wings; with the warehouse being a hot spot, she probably removed the entire district's worth of posters on this door alone.
By the time Lyra had finished removing the posters, it was already noon. The next few hours only promised the multitude of orders she was supposed to settle alongside Lightning Dust. She had used every tool imaginable: hammers, saws, drills wrenches, screwdrivers, wire cutters, pliers, even some tweezers for the more minuscule bits. Order after order was completed, fulfilling every customer's needs with their contraptions serviced and functioning as it should be.
"Alright!" Lightning Dust exclaimed, her wings taut and spread out with hooves stretched up into the air. "Couple more radios, one engine and a jukebox left."
"Why not we deal with the jukebox first?" Lyra suggested, looking over her shoulder. "Get the heavy duty work out of the way, huh Lightning?"
"Sure, though Vinyl haven't gotten down to teaching me about the inner workings yet. With all the orders coming in, it's hard to find the time to even breathe anymore."
"Well, we're all busy ponies, aren't we? Still, you've been here with us for seven months—"
"Eight."
"—eight months already," Lyra quickly corrected herself, ignoring Lightning's patronizing stare. "Last I checked, I'm pretty sure eight months is long enough for a mare to know her stuff."
"Well, I'm sorry I'm not as mechanically inclined as the both of you are."
"But you're a fast learner, Lightning. In fact, you were the one who said that when Vinyl interviewed you."
"Not fast enough, I guess," Lightning Dust disavowed, flopping backwards onto the floor. Not one to leave a friend looking glum and hapless, Lyra simply marched over to her friend, the two exchanging stares. One inquisitive, the other shimmering with mischief. Before Lightning could scramble away, a loud, strained grunt burst from her mouth, done so by the weight of Lyra Heartstrings plopped onto her chest, the unicorn going limp with a relaxed sigh.
"Lyra, what are you doing?" Lightning spoke up after a while, wide-eyed.
"Glad you asked!" the other mare beamed. "Do you know about the domestic cat?"
"Gee, I don't know," she scorned with mock bewilderment. "Do tell me about this exotic animal you call the domestic cat."
"A recent study from the Celestial University of Canterlot says that your happiness is more likely to increase with a cat lying on your belly," Lyra stated proudly. "So I was thinking, you know, instead of a cat..."
"You volunteered instead! Great! Don't know what I'll do without you!"
"Yeah, I have my moments," she declared proudly. For a while, Lightning couldn't tell if Lyra got the hint of sarcasm or not. "So, how are you feeling now?"
"Better than ever, can you get off me now?"
With a huff, Lightning felt the air rushing back into her lungs, wheezing slightly as she rolled over and picked herself up. She dusted her coat and brushed her mane back, the temptation of throwing a fit within reach, though she couldn't help but chuckle at the random predicament she had just went through. By the time she deemed herself presentable, she was surprised to see that Lyra had already trotted towards the jukebox, humming a jingle along the way with tools ever ready.
"You know how to fix one?" she asked.
"Not as good as Vinyl does, but yeah, I can handle a jukebox," Lyra said, before unscrewing the panels. "You think you're up for it?"
"Not like me to back out, Heartstrings."
Sharing a friendly hoofbump, their job has begun. Lyra Heartstrings and Lightning Dust worked furiously on the jukebox, both mares respectively fixing up the broken parts and replacing all the old ones. It was slow at first, starting with Lyra explaining the mechanisms and whatnot, but Lightning was, as she claimed, a fast learner. Soon, they were already screwing back the panels and giving it a little polish, just as the sky flushed itself into tangerine, the final rays of the sun saying its daily goodbye in it's retreat into the distance.
"Phew!" Lyra sighed, tossing the cloth aside as she dropped herself onto the floor, watching the sunset. "One jukebox, done!"
"You've said it," Lightning echoed, wiping a brow of sweat with a flex of her wings, though she stopped midway. "Euch. Think I've got a little grease in my feathers."
"You deal with the grease first. I'm no pegasus, but I'm pretty sure getting some hardened goop off your wings can be a little painful."
"Boy, you have no idea," she grimaced, making Lyra chuckle. "Thanks for the cover. Will be back in five, 'kay?"
"Counting on it."
That said, Lightning Dust sped off, rushing past the door leading into her apartment. With Vinyl too busy on the CASS, Lyra was left to her own devices, this time fixing a radio. She still found it a little surprising that she was the only one working here that didn't live in the adjacent building, despite efforts made by Vinyl and the others to do so. It makes sense, living next to your workplace, yet she couldn't picture herself moving out of her current home. It just felt wrong.
"There you go again, Lyra," she mumbled to herself, snickering with a shake of her head. "It's just moving out of a house. Really, what's the worst that could happen?"
"LYRA!!"
The loud announcement made both Lyra's and Vinyl's heads turn, their smiles growing when the remainder of the apartment's residents and the store's part-time workers returned from their daily duties. Before she could prepare herself, Lyra was tackled down, falling right onto her back and giggling as she felt the familiar pair of cheeks nuzzling into her own.
"Hello there!" she exclaimed, the pair of foals laughing ecstatically as she wrapped them into her signature hugs. "How's school today?"
"Boring, duh! Miss Cheerilee taught us about some history about Canterlot and Princess Celestia and how she defeated Nightmare Moon and something, something, whatever."
"It's not boring! You know what's boring, Pound? The hoofball game that you said it would be fun, but it's not!"
"It was fun, Pumpkin!" Pound Cake snorted, giving his sister, Pumpkin Cake, the stink-eye with a buzz of his growing wings. "You just don't know how to have fun! What kind of pony enjoys history class?"
"Hey, at least it was interesting!" Pumpkin retaliated, her horn lighting up a tint of blue. "Didn't you hear that part where Princess Celestia fought some dragons to protect a little town? That one was super, super exciting, if you were actually listening!"
"I was, but it was still boring! Since you like it, you're a boring pony, Pumpkin!"
"I'm your sister, so that makes you a boring pony too, Pound!"
"I'm not a boring pony!"
"Are too!"
"Am not!"
"Are too!"
"AM NOT!!"
"ARE TOO!!"
"Okay, okay, calm down!" Lyra intervened, pushing them apart before they could bite each other's manes out, though she had to admit they had done worse to each other when she was not around, from what the others have told her. "You know, from what I hear, you both had a great time at school. Why don't you little kids take a shower, get yourself nice and clean?"
"We're not little!" the siblings cried out in unison.
"Alright! Big! Huge! Jumbo-sized! Got that!" Lyra hastily corrected herself. That's one thing they could agree on, she thought to herself. "Come on! You won't wanna miss dinner!"
As soon as the twins hurried up to their apartments, their constant squabbling fading into the distance, Lyra closed her eyes and let out a long sigh, though a short, deep chuckle snapped them open again. It came from the final resident of the apartment: a bipedal dragon, standing upright on his purple, scaly clawed feet and giving his toothed grin. "Glad that's finally over," he said with a whistle of delight. "They've been arguing nonstop about school the whole time we were coming back."
"Must be a great experience, huh Spike?" Lyra teased the adolescent dragon. "By the way, since I've asked them, how was your day?"
"So-so. Just typical guard duty, you know. Standing there, doing nothing special and letting the day pass."
"Forget guard duty," Vinyl spoke up briefly from her work. "How's things going on with Scoots?"
Lyra and Vinyl did their best to hold back their snickers. They both knew how flustered Spike can be when he talks about Scootaloo, his foalhood friend turned marefriend of two years which he lived with on the highest floor of the apartment. Being a recent addition in the Wonderbolts, however, made her appearances less frequent; just last week, she headed off to some sort of annual military exercise in Manehatten, with only written letters to Spike highlighting her experiences.
"Well... she's doing great in the military exercise, from what she wrote," the dragon said. "Had a blast — and I quote — kicking some gryphon butt to the moon. Those birdbrains didn't know what hit 'em."
"Wasn't it suppose to be a friendly exercise?" Vinyl asked. "Like, Equestria and Griffonstone are friends, which was why we're having our drills together, sort of thing? Scootaloo might start a war, for all we know."
"Nah. Probably just her being the great dork she is," Spike said dismissively, all three of them laughing. "She made some new friends there as well, pony and griffon. She also said she heard from the superiors that they might be sent to the north, which might mean they wouldn't be back for a while."
"Aw, really?" Lyra groaned.
"Bummer," Vinyl remarked, glancing up at the dragon. "And? Did she say anything after that?"
"Small apology, some stuff about how she misses me and a promise to keep in touch," Spike continued, sighing. "Honestly, I kinda miss her as well."
"Hey, look on the bright side!" Lyra may not be a veteran in the relationship department — she was a greenhorn, both figuratively and literally, if her past attempts of dating were of any indication — but she knew he needed a little cheering up somehow. With Vinyl busy with the CASS and Lightning still taking her long shower, there was only her left. "Scootaloo said she would keep in touch, didn't she?" she asked, to which Spike nodded. "Then let's wait until the next letter. Who knows? They might finally decide to call it a day, pack their things and come back home!"
"Yeah, you'll never know," the dragon said, scratching his head. "Anyways, gotta need a shower as well. From what I hear, dinner is afoot."
"Keep up with that lingo and you'll be half the dork Scootaloo is."
Laughing out loud at Vinyl's joke, Spike quickly headed out the door, leaving Lyra with Vinyl and the CASS. From the looks of it, Vinyl was nearly done; just a few more tweaks and a polish would do the trick. It fascinates her sometimes, seeing her old friend work her magic on all these machines. Lyra knew how hard it really was, having tried and failed a couple of times before, yet Vinyl always makes it seem so menial, seamlessly patching and cleaning up the wreck that it was. "So, Lye," said mare spoke suddenly, hauling her out from her thoughts. "I take it you're joining us for dinner tonight?"
"Me? Well, I'm not so sure."
"What's keeping ya?"
"Oh, nothing important, really!" Lyra said haughtily. "Just that I'm afraid FERRA might have prepared dinner in advance."
"You did tell him that you'll be with us tonight, did you?"
"Ummmm...... probably?"
"And... you forgot," Vinyl finished with a sigh, hoof meeting her forehead. "Ehh... the FERRA's programmed for this sort of things anyway. He'll figure it out eventually."
"I hope so," Lyra mumbled, concerned. "Really not looking forward to having a two-course meal tonight."
"Don't worry! If the folks at Starswirl Inc. really kept their word, then FERRA has everything covered! Then again, you know Starswirl."
"Not helping, Vinyl," she bemoaned, making her friend laugh. "I'll deal with it later if I have to."
"Do what you gotta do, Lye," Vinyl said with a pat on her back. "So, Miss Heartstrings, where do you presume we should have our dinner?"
Lyra couldn't help but chuckle at her friend's pretentious tone, reciprocating it as she put up the facade of an impressionable art critic, her hoof doing it's best performance of a mustache while her head cocked higher, chin facing the roof of the warehouse. She gallantly stepped forward towards the exit and dramatically looked over her shoulder — an effort that came not without a snicker from Vinyl — as she spoke:
"Well, Miss Scratch, there is this junction I'm certain you may fancy..." . . .
. . .
"I'm back~!"
"Welcome home, Lyra," greeted the enigmatic digital voice of her loyal FERRA as Lyra pranced in, whistling with delight. "How was your dinner?"
"Oh, it was wonderful! I had a great time!"
Seems like Vinyl was right, she mused, the dining table free of the usual dishes the robot would serve. Speaking of which, her dinner was a lovely one. The conversations were exciting, the music soothing and the food— oh, she couldn't even begin to describe how fine-dining-y it was. Rarely had Vinyl take up her suggestions of the more refined restaurants, but the CASS sealed the deal.
"You should've seen Pound and Pumpkin, FERRA," Lyra giggled, traipsing into her bedroom. "They're growing up so fast. Seems like it was just yesterday Vinyl and I found them at the doorstep! Still arguing about all the little things, though. Spike shared some of his guard stuff with us. By the way FERRA, did you know that each district has its own independent group of guards patrolling it? I didn't know that until Spike told me!"
"What of Lightning Dust?"
"Lightning Dust? She, well... she was being Lightning Dust. You know how she is, don't you?"
"I do recall you mentioning her being obnoxious."
"Not as bad as last time, but she still is," she huffed, rolling her eyes. "Who else am I missing, who else am I— ah! V's doing fine, from what I could tell. I just hope with the money from the CASS that she can finally quit her night job."
"You want her to quit her job?" FERRA inquired.
"It's not like that," Lyra said defensively, frowning. "I get it, she's doing it for some extra bits, but it's not... healthy, you know? Her, staying up so late at such a place... you'll never know what might happen to you when you're down there. One day, something serious might've happened to her and we might not even know it. Even so, what are we gonna do? What about the shop and the apartment? What about Pumpkin and Pound's school fees? What then?"
"I believe you are overly concerned."
"I am not overly concerned!" she gasped at FERRA's accusation. "In fact, I think I have just the right amount of concern!"
FERRA gave no response, which was enough for Lyra to sigh, her glance rolling up to the ceiling and Luna's night sky beyond it. "Okay, maybe I'm a little too concerned," she professed, slumping onto her bed. "But I have every right to be, FERRA."
"Of course, Lyra. You are a friend to Vinyl, after all. A true friend, if I may add."
"Aw, thank you," the mare chirped, turning to her robot. "You always know what to say to cheer me up."
"It is my duty after all, Miss Heartstrings."
"Ah, ah, ah!" Lyra censured her robot like a strict Canterlotian mother to a child. "What did I say about the M word?"
"Of course, Lyra. Apologies."
"No worries, bud. Phew, I'm gonna take a long shower! Speaking of showers, you should see what happened to Lightning Dust just now. She had, like, this much grease in her wings, let metellyou..." . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Carefully now.
Her making it hard isn't my concern. Really, if I'm in such a state, I'd file my crassest complaints as well. Divines above were kind enough not to place me at such a precarious position. Even with me at the helm, things go wrong. Terribly wrong.
I still wonder why, as I wonder then: why must such a daunting responsibility be entrusted on me? I bear no hope to question it, should it be my push over the cliff's edge and into the murky waters below. I either wake up a bumbling fool or live the rest of my days as a mad one. I prefer where I am now, thank you very much.
Now, let's see, let's see... ah, yes!
What a lovely name.
I would wish for such a name. Alas, it is but mother's blessing that I hold mine today, engraved and embossed in the tight confines of a brass name tag. Flaunt it around, she once said. Be proud of such a name.
That toxic mare.
Oh, forgive my ramblings. We'll get on to it. . . . Sunshines, Miss Heartstrings.
"Flim, have you wondered what smells like nostalgia?"
"Oh, I can't quite get the answer, Flam. What does smell like nostalgia?"
"Well, sunshines to all our listeners out there! For those who've just joined our jolly show, we've previously asked that question to all of Equestria: what smells like nostalgia? What scent sends you back through the weaves of time and leaves you hanging on that one unforgettable thread? Flam and I have gathered the most interesting answers during the break and I dare say, we have a lot of intriguing responses! Ain't that right, Flam!"
"You bet, Flim! First comes from a Miss Shoeshine. Her nostalgic smell of choice was the aroma of molten cottage cheese, for it reminds her of her family reunions every Hearth's Warming, where her grandmother would bring out the signature dish: cheese baked pasta with sunflower seeds!"
"Now, that sounds absolutely riveting, Flam!"
"Riveting indeed, Flim! Be sure to introduce us to your grandma, Miss Shoeshine!"
"Here's one from Missus Lemon Hearts! Her scent of choice was the smell of wet paint, because it had always reminded her of her parents painting the walls of her treehouse when she was young!"
"Ah, the lost art of the treehouse. Terribly miss it, I should add."
"I miss it terribly as well, Flam. Our final entry is from a Mister Toe-Tapper. His favorite smell... what do you know! The scent of old books from the local library! It reminds him of the many adventures he had in the books he read! Fascinating!"
"And that's the first three answers from many more. Now, this section wouldn't be possible without the help of Sapphire Shores. Our musical sensation had just celebrated the launch of Rivage, the latest fragrance Sapphire herself concocted from a careful mix of sea spray, vanilla and summerwind grass to make it smell like the beach she had always adored when she was just a small filly!"
"Talk about nostalgia in a bottle, eh Flam?"
"You've said it, Flim!"
"Do tune in to hear the next set of answers that we'll be reading right after these lovely melodies! Who knows? You might be the next of the lucky few who have been chosen by yours truly! Once again, this is the Flim Flam Rodeo Breakfast Show on Equestria National Radio! Sunshines, Equestria, and have a lovely day!"
. . . . . . . . . . . It is another lovely day.
Lyra Heartstrings groaned out of her sleep, like every other lovely day.
Lyra Heartstrings searched for the ground off her bed, like every other lovely day.
Lyra Heartstrings stretched her hooves, pleasure brimming from her nerves and joints as she strutted into the shower, like every other lovely day.
With a precise turn of the brass knobs, Lyra Heartstrings felt the warm water matting her mane, trailing down its fine hairs and dripping onto the tiled floor she was staring down, the currents swiveling and swirling down into the draining hole. She let out a yawn, small enough to spare her from braying like a mule, long enough to feel the fizzle of contentment at the back of her throat. Once she was done, she stepped out, yanking the towel out of its rest and hummed a tune from a selection from her mental compilation of earworms, rubbing herself free of the dampness that clung to her.
Just like every other lovely day.
And, like every other lovely day, Lyra Heartstrings found herself staring at the mirror, anticipating that charming, proud grin to reward her for her hard work and fire up her day.
What she saw was less of a smile.
At first glance, she didn't recognize the mare in the mirror. She wanted to rush out and inquire FERRA about the intruder in her bedroom. She blinked a few times, paused, then blinked several times more. All those attempts were in vain, as that same mare still stood there, questioning her with those same eyes; those same glowering brows; those same stiff, downward lips. She visioned them opening, then closing, then opening again, trembling with a cold murmur that froze her heart and cracked her bones.
"Sunshines..."
It was on this lovely day, unlike all the other lovely days, that Lyra Heartstrings saw, in a mirror she had trusted for so long, less of a smile and more of a scowl.
"Sunshines, Miss Heartstrings."
Snapping out from her daze, Lyra whirled towards the doorway. Her FERRA was hovering there, the minuscule apertures inconspicuously closing in around its single eye. In its left arm, he held a mug of chamomile tea, the aroma serving to entice the mare out from her nest. An uneasy moment of silence settled in between them, until Lyra finally trotted away from the mirror, though not before glancing back at her reflection.
"M word, FERRA," she offhandedly spoke, still looking in the mirror.
"Ah, yes. Apologies for the blunder I've made there."
"It's okay," Lyra mumbled, finally tearing her gaze back to her FERRA, then to her tea. "You got my breakfast ready?"
"As per last night's request, Lyra. Belgian waffles and a side of tulip petals."
"Thanks, FERRA. Lead the way."
Her monotonous drawl must have gave FERRA quite a surprise, Lyra figured, though the robot made no effort of mentioning it. For a moment, Lyra thought to herself, as she wandered into her dining room, whether she was wearing her goggles of fatigue again, though it was interrupted by the encroaching smell of breakfast.
Praise the sun for breakfast! Her stomach was gnawing at itself in there, turning itself inside out! "The storm is growing!" she would've cried on any other day. "A storm! Cooked up by the tumultuous waves of gastric juices and raging to be filled!" Perhaps that was why she was bothered by everything around her, she surmised. After all, there's nothing more frightening than a mare with an empty stomach.
Lyra Heartstrings needed no encouragement to jump into her wooden seat and chow down her food. Sure, her FERRA would start a conversation about table manners, but she can handle that with a full stomach in tow. Crumbs flew off the sides, sprinkling across the oak table and onto the carpeted floor, leaving her robot to sweep it all up with a dustpan. By the time she was done, Lyra slunk into her chair, a languid, low sigh drifting out of her lips as she closed her eyes.
The emptiness was still there.
The pit in her stomach.
Immediately, the mare stumbled back up. The empty feeling had not left her stomach. Rather, it felt like it intensified; what was a thunderstorm had turned into a typhoon, insistently clawing the walls of her guts. Holding her breath, she felt another smaller storm growing up beneath her left chestplate and another in her head, wreaking havoc to mind and soul. She groaned from the assault, the storm system pestering her to no end, so much that she dragged he hooves to her three seater sofa and tossed herself back first onto it, shoving her face with a snugly pillow.
"Lyra?" FERRA's voice of concern called for her. "Are you alright?"
"Yeah bud, I'm uh... fine," she gave her muffled lie.
"You don't look so alright to me. How are you feeling?"
Like a donkey's turd, she surprisingly found herself wanting to rasp. Instead, she opted for the polite answer. "Body's aching a lot," she mumbled. "It doesn't feel like a fever, though. At least, I don't think it does."
"Perhaps I may be of assistance?" FERRA offered.
"If you insist."
With a huff, Lyra pushed the pillow off her face and sat right up, just in time to see her FERRA's red eye flourishing into sky blue. Suddenly, a horizontal beam of light shot out from its scope and onto her body, a whizzing sound filling the room as said beam scrolled along Lyra from head to hoof. Soon after, the beam converged back into its eye, the robot hovering still for a minute as it picked apart the information it gathered.
"Curious," it spoke after a while. "I seem to find nothing wrong with you, Lyra."
"Huh?"
"You're perfectly fine," FERRA rephrased. "According to the scans, there are no traces of any disease or infection whatsoever in your body. All evidence suggests that you are a perfectly healthy mare."
"That's weird..." Lyra mumbled, the rumbling feelings still present. "I don't know about that, FERRA. You sure?"
"Yes, Lyra."
"Really sure?"
"Quite so."
"Really, really sure?"
"Lyra, I've been monitoring your health ever since the day you purchased me, so yes, I am absolutely sure."
Lyra giggled at FERRA's annoyed tone — the first of the day — before the gray clouds gathered over her head again. She didn't know what it was, the pit forming at the bottom of her gut, or the deep ache blossoming in her chest, or the incessant drumming she was hearing in her head. In the end, her robot can only do so much as to scan her; she'd have to get her prescriptions from somepony, didn't she?
"FERRA, record a voice message for Vinyl," she requested. No more than a second later, her robot emitted a small ding. "Sunshines, V. Don't think I'll be stepping in today. I think I'm coming down with something. Don't worry about me just yet, it's nothing too serious— at least, nothing a few pills couldn't handle probably. I'll be stopping by at the nearest Rosy Maple's if you need me. Say Sunshines to the rest for me, Vinyl."
Another ding from FERRA, whirring and chirruping, before it spoke: "Message sent."
"Thanks, FERRA," Lyra replied, heading towards her front door. "Take care of the house for me while I'm gone. Shouldn't take about an hour."
"As always, Lyra."
"Knew I can count on you, bud."
With destination in mind, Lyra stepped out into the bustling streets, putting up a smile for the world to see. She greeted the usual crowd with her warm welcomes, graciously accepting some of their offers and sharing delightful stories, though the feeling of emptiness remained. Lyra caught herself biting her lip after every futile conversation; perhaps it was something serious after all?
"Now, hold on Lyra," she chastised herself. "Think about nice things. Yes! Nice things..."
With that in mind, Lyra Heartstrings trotted down the block, heading to the one place that might finally shed light on her ordeal.
"Rosy Maple's." . . .
. . . . .
. . . . .
The grandiose, intricate logo of Rosy Maple's Healthcare Services, lit up in a fluttering, blinking pink, was a sign of hope for many when the first of its kind was erected in the western districts of Canterlot. Initially a small project to make healthcare accessible to all parts of Equestria instead of having every sick pony to trot to the hospital, the business blossomed when the princess funded it to where it stands today: an iconic clinical franchise, happy to serve and provide help to those in need, be it a bottle of medicine or just an ear to their personal problems.
Just a few avenues away from her home at a corner, Lyra Heartstrings arrived in obligation as a recipient of the latter, plagued by her strange discomfort in her journey here. It wasn't as bad as it appeared to be in the morning, though it might be her feeling numb from the sensation already. Perhaps, she feared, it was the calm before the storm; Vinyl told her enough scary stories to fuel her morbid speculation. Quickly, she shook herself free of that unnerving thought: the last thing she needed on her mind was the image of a tapeworm tunneling through her intestines.
Instead, she gazed upon the rosy beacon of hope with the knowledge that they could provide her with what she wanted. Stepping through the golden revolving doors, Lyra was surprised to see the center almost empty, save for a few chattering patients on the wooden waiting benches and some of the staff cantering in and out of the hallways. Seems most of the district must be truly having a lovely day, she surmised enviously, though she dare not complain. After all, she wanted a quick visit, not a spot at the back of a queue.
Once again, the iconic logo of Rosy Maple's exhibited itself in a form of a colossal, wooden bas relief above the receptionist's counter, with a few screens around it that would announce a sequence of numbers on a busier day. All the gilded benches sat on a circle, leveled platform, away from the checker-tiled marble floor. Behind the counter was Nurse Snowheart, busy filling in some notes and looking through a few records until Lyra strutted up to her, to which she gave a tender smile.
"Sunshines, love," the receptionist greeted warmly. "Here for a checkup, Miss Heartstrings?"
"Kinda, Nurse Snowheart," Lyra sheepishly answered, gaze trailing off. "I'm... not really sure if this is the right place for it, actually."
"Well, what ails you and your lovely day?"
"I don't know what you call it... a feeling? Like something's... something's draining you from inside, but you know it's not a... um... well, it's not a thing... I hope."
Nurse Snowheart stared at her blankly, prompting her to continue: "Okay, it's like I'm missing something, got it? Like, there's a hole in my stomach and my heart just feels kinda heavy. My head's hurting as well, if that helps..."
"Empty sensation... aching heart... ah!"
"So?" Lyra inquired, the other mare looking as if she struck gold. "What is it?"
"I myself am not that educated on the subject, I'm afraid, but I know just the pony who can help." With that said, the receptionist pressed a hoof on the intercom, the speakers around crackling as she spoke: "Nurse Redheart, please head to the lobby immediately. We have one with the saudades here."
"Sau-what?"
"Don't worry, Miss Redheart would explain everything to you."
Leave it to Nurse Redheart to explain everything, Lyra found herself thinking. She could vaguely recall how she and that nurse first met— it was either a near-death experience of getting crushed by a fallen rack of machinery at Vinyl's, which amounted to a few fractured ribs and a broken hoof, or a spoiled something in a hayburger from one of the diners, which gave her enough belching fits for the daily clogging of her toilet. Whatever horrid experience she went through first, she met Nurse Redheart, had a little chat and after stumbling upon each other at Donut Joe's later, they kept in touch.
"Mi'ff Harf'rings!!" a garbled cry came from the left hallway. Sure enough, in her hurried trotting, came Nurse Redheart, her nursing cap lopsided and pink mane ruffled with a jumbled mess of papers threatening to fly off the clipboard in her mouth. Lyra held back her giggles, instead stepping forward to help the hurried nurse with her clipboard, picking up a few strays that managed to escape. When they were done, the nurse placed her now orderly clipboard on the counter, giving her a fresh smile.
"Really, thank you for your help, Lyra. They can be quite a handful to sort through, let me tell you."
"Oh, just helping out a friend, that's all," Lyra put up her modest facade, even though the roses in her cheeks were blooming.
"So, what brings you here today, Lyra?" Nurse Redheart inquired. "Oh, and Snowheart, where's that mare with the saudade?"
"Two birds with one stone," the receptionist smirked, slyly drawing her gaze to the sheepish Lyra. "Miss Heartstrings here is the one you're looking for."
"Lyra Heartstrings?" the nurse gawked, her wide-eyed stare snapping to the sheepish unicorn. "Her? The one with the saudades?"
"Yep, I'm the one with the um... the... what did you call it? Sa... Sew..."
Striding across the checkered tiles, Lyra followed the nurse down the hallway, passing by door after door. She had forgotten how vertigo-inducing the ceilings were, the row of crystal lamps at the very top illuminating it with its set of glares. For a franchise of clinics, the buildings of Rosy Maple's were fairly large. The same could also be said for their staff— one could almost never meet a doctor or nurse that isn't working in Rosy Maple's. Nurse Redheart, for example, said she once worked in a privately owned hospital until the owner of Rosy Maple's bought it over. It was a sudden change, as the nurse had phrased it, but she enjoyed her work more than ever after that.
"I must admit, Lyra, I didn't expect that you'd be the one catching the saudades," Nurse Redheart said sincerely. "Not to say that it's unheard of for anypony to catch it, really."
"So it's not some... terminal illness or anything?"
"Oh, I'm fairly certain it's not."
"Nothing to do with parasites?"
"Heavens, no!" Nurse Redheart shuddered, her cheeks a ghastly green. "I'd rather face a dragon instead of such horrors, I'll have you know. Really, Lyra, the astonishing things that Vinyl puts in your head sometimes..."
"Just making sure, sorry," Lyra meekly replied, a little relieved. "So, you're saying this happens a lot?"
"More often than you think, yes. It is quite a common affliction."
"But if it's so common, why didn't I catch it?"
"Oh, the saudade is not a legitimate illness as you had believed, Lyra. Far from it, actually."
That only left Lyra a little more baffled than ever. Before she could inquire further, Nurse Redheart suddenly stopped in her tracks and opened the door on their left with one hoof gesturing the unicorn in, the tender yet insistent smile egging her to do so. Stepping in, she found herself in a fairly pleasant hospital room, pristine with the colors of a summer's day painted in strips on the walls. The blanched ceiling and wooden floor added to the serenity, as did the white satin sheets of the comfortable bed and the flowery voile curtains that gave a glimpse of the streets outside, topped with a single, lean orchid in a narrow vase.
"Come, have a seat," Nurse Redheart said, cocking her head onto the bed. "You are my patient, after all. I have to see to it that you get comfy."
Chuckling with the nurse, Lyra helped herself up, ruffling the sheets a little as she cozied up to the warm sheets, even tucking the pillow underneath her front hooves. Already familiar with the repertoire, she waited patiently for Nurse Redheart to fill in a few forms, drawing her gaze to the scenery outside.
It was already noon, the brilliance of the sun at a glorious high over the many districts of Canterlot. Half a day had drifted over her head and she could only watch on glumly as ponies cantered around and exchanging joyous greetings with each other. She wondered about the rest: Vinyl and the others must've gotten her message by now. Despite telling her not to worry so much, she knew behind Vinyl's tomboyish, tough exterior held a luxury penthouse's worth of concern to match. She could recall how much her friend panicked in the accident with the rack back then; she had never heard a mare cry so loud in her entire life! Lyra found herself chuckling lightly, feeling a little guilty for doing so.
"Alright! Now that we've got these papers out of the way," Nurse Redheart announced. "Let's start with the basics. I'm sure you had that empty pit in your stomach, didn't you?"
"Yeah, just this morning," Lyra answered. "I had FERRA did a scan for me, but he got nothing out of it."
"Well, I'm not surprised at that. Technically, FERRAs aren't programmed to read any afflictions that aren't... well, physical."
"Yeah, I guess you can— wait, what do you mean, not physical?"
"I suppose you'll want a good explanation by now," Nurse Redheart chuckled, seeing the other mare's paling expression. "The word 'saudade' isn't your typical Equestrian word. In fact, if I'm not mistaken, it actually stems from the Lusitano language, from the Iberian region. The Lusitanian ponies use it to mean these deep feelings of melancholy and nostalgia, just like the feelings you're having now. That feeling that something's missing in your life, something that you once have now long gone, with the notion of it never coming back."
Lyra just stared blankly at the nurse for a moment. That explains why FERRA got nothing out of the scan, though at this point she had more questions than answers. "Wow," she managed to utter out.
"Wow, huh? Which only makes it stranger for you, of all ponies, to have the saudades."
"It is a little strange once you told me about it..." she mumbled, pondering. "You know why that happens?"
"Not the faintest idea, honestly. Usually, ponies with the saudades have something they really miss and want to go back to. They have a precious memory that they hold onto, which gives them these feelings."
"What kind of memories?"
"Well, anything, really," Nurse Redheart simply stated. "Your family, your friends, your pet, the first day you went to the amusement park, the happiest birthday you had, the Summer Sun Celebration, the hangout place you used to go with your friends, your favorite diner... it could be anything. At least, anything that brings a positive light to the pony's life."
Anything that brings a positive light to the pony's life. To her life. Lyra knew her life pretty well and she knew she had enough happy moments throughout her life to brighten up the entire district. That may be a downside to being an optimist, her thoughts reckoned jokingly. Really, though, what was she missing? Was she even missing anything to begin with? Was it just one of those bad mornings where her rational train of thought derailed and she was left desperately scrambling for an answer?
"What if it's not the saudade?" Lyra asked. "What if it's just... stomach cramps or something?"
"If it were only stomach cramps, I'm certain Nurse Snowheart would've known from the get go."
"Yeah, probably..."
"Lyra, I know it can be a little frightening," Nurse Redheart assured, notcing the uneasiness settling in. "But believe me, what you're feeling is normal. Sure, it's not your everyday typical emotion like happiness or sadness or whatever, but it's just the way your mind telling you to get what you never knew you needed. It's a funny story, trust me, but I've met so many who had the saudades getting what they wanted and guess what, they end up becoming much happier than before!"
"Happier than before, huh," the unicorn mumbled. Another outwordly promise in her head, yet this one comes from the genuine words of a pact of friendship made over one near-death experience, a generous helping of doughnuts and two cups of warm coffee. She hated believing in sugar-coated words, having heard enough in her lifetime, though maybe swaying to the tune of one or two of them wouldn't nag her sweet tooth. Plus, the prospect of a happier Lyra Heartstrings play out better in her head than a heart-wrenching pit of misery. "Probably me assuming here, but there's no cure right?" she inquired.
"No definite one, certainly," Nurse Redheart affirmed with a confident grin. "You're a smart mare, Lyra. You'll know what to do."
"Oh, you~!"
"Feeling better already, I see!"
"Hey, you know I have a soft spot for compliments!" Lyra blabbered with flaming cheeks, her friend chuckling. "But seriously though, thanks. Not what I expected to hear, but thanks."
"Anything for a friend! Remember, you're always welcome to visit me, even when I'm not working."
"You bet your doughnuts, Redheart," she responded cheerfully, feeling better already. "Speaking of which, Donut Joe's this weekend?"
"Craving for you to say that. You know I'll be there."
A good-natured smile evoked from Lyra's lips; now that's a realistic promise.
"I know you will." . . .
. . .
"You sure she didn't just make that up?"
"V, I'm really, really sure," Lyra said aloud, looking over her shoulder at her hovering FERRA. "Plus, it's Nurse Redheart we're talking about here. Just like how you know your machines, she knows her... stuff!"
"I don't know, Lyra," Vinyl's voice of concern quavered back from the pinholes cradling the robot's speakers. "It sounds kinda fishy to me. I mean, the saudade? What kind of Equestrian word is that?"
"It's not Equestrian Equestrian exactly, but never mind that!" she blurted, her magic working to sort and place the last of the recently-cleaned dishes back into the cupboards. "Vinyl, I know you're worried about me. I'm worried about myself too, but at least we know it's not going to hurt anypony. Not physically, at least."
"I know, I know... I just can't help but feel—"
"Vinyl, if you're beating yourself up over the accident again, I swear..."
Silence befell, the conversation coming to a sudden halt. Lyra stopped with her dishes, biting her lip at the lack of a response. Vinyl would probably be sulking right now, staring dismally at whatever contraption she was fixing like all the other times they had this conversation. She was probably a bit too harsh, Lyra thought to herself.
"Hey, V?" she called out, her voice trembling. "You still there?"
"S-Sorry..."
"Don't be," Lyra responded, a little relieved and guilty at the same time. "It was an accident. Sure, I was stuck in a hospital for a long time. I know I whine about being in bed all day but it wasn't that bad."
"You missed out the part where it hurt like hell."
"Oh yeah! It hurt, didn't it? Broken ribs or something." Her feigned obliviousness made both mares laugh, before she continued: "Granted, it hurt, but it wasn't your fault. So do me a favor and blame gravity instead of yourself for it."
"Gravity doesn't like accusations, don't you know?" Vinyl replied back, bringing forth another brief period of shared laughter. "Okay, fine. So I'll see you at work tomorrow Lye? Healthy and ready to go?"
"Bet my paycheck you will."
"Dangerous bet you're making there," was the response, giving both mares one last laugh. "I gotta go finish fixing this thing up. See you tomorrow, Lye."
"You too."
"Remember, if anything happens, give me a call—"
"Okay, okay, goodbye!" Lyra exclaimed heartily, shaking her head. In a split second, her FERRA's upright antennae slowly slid back into the comfort of its brass shell, its red eye lighting back up again just as she settled herself onto her couch, sighing at her friend's overzealous worries. "Sheesh, Vinyl..."
"Miss Scratch seems to have as much concern as you have of her."
"She's the overly concerned one, FERRA," Lyra put it bluntly. "I'm worried about her current night job. She, on the other hoof, is worried about an accident that happened way long time ago. Kinda makes you wonder who the real victim of that incident really is."
"Pardon me for saying this, but that was a rather appalling statement, Lyra."
"Y-Yeah, I guess it's kinda mean..." she stammered, planting her snout into the couch. "I'm just... a little annoyed... I mean, we've talked about this a lot of times already..."
With a huff, Lyra suddenly jerked back up, stretched her back and cantered off to her bedroom, discarding whatever negative thoughts prevailing her mind along the way. Leaping right into the warm confines of her bed, she washed all the day's worries with a sigh, leaving only the emptiness in her gut and the aching of her heart to worry about. Her FERRA whirred in with a whistle of steam, stopping just before the doorway.
"Do you need me for anything else, Lyra?" it asked.
"No, not for today," the mare answered, wistfully staring up at the ceiling. "I'll let you know if I do, bud."
"Alright."
Once the robot slunk away, Lyra was finally left in her realm of thoughts, all of them about the nagging feeling of the saudade. At least it wasn't some illness to be reckoned with as she had initially believed, though how to make it go away would be a tough nut to crack. Maybe it just fade away like an everyday migraine does, she told herself. It was an emotion, after all. "We'll see how it is tomorrow," she whispered to herself, a whisk of magic switching the lights off.
For now, all she wanted was a good night's rest. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . .
Do you ever remember?
How it was all like in the past?
How, back then, you wouldn't have to worry about such mundane things? You find joy and laughter at every corner of Equestria? How you could find the beauty of a trivial matter instead of the reeking disturbance it is now? Funny, isn't it? How times have changed so.
Nostalgia, the romantic called such flurry sentiments.
Nostalgia.
I prefer it solely as what it actually is: a secretion of hormones in our endocrine systems that hotwired a particular set of neural circuits which brings a lightbulb to our brain's emotional duplex, the amygdala. Now, that is wondrously complex. No beautified contexts or patrician linguistics. Just basic, comprehensible science.
Really, it all boils down to our instincts.
We think we are in control, but in reality, everything around shapes us so. It is the environment that we evolved in that made us believe we are all individually different. That we are distinct. That we are in power of our minds, but really, our minds follow a greater shepherd. A shepherd beyond all manners of thought, yet we follow him, not because we were willing to, but because we were conditioned to.
Science is my shepherd; I shall not delude from it.
I am a mare of my faith, you see. . . . . How about you?
She never meant to. She didn't want to. She just noticed it out the corner of her eye, that was all. She happened upon it, stumbled upon it, found herself staring at it for no good reason. She thought it may be different, hoped it was just an afterthought, wished it was just the aftermath of a bad dream. It was all a coincidence, a chance meeting, a sudden happenstance that she just so happened upon. An accident, an occurence, an event that arose from the strangest of circumstances, a situation that came about the throw of fate's dice, an opportunity that she didn't know the stakes of, yet she blindly dived in anyway.
The first night, she prayed for change and slept soundly.
The second night, she barely kept her eyes closed from the drumming in her head.
The third, she tossed herself within her sheets and buried her groans into her pillow.
It was the result of the third night that brought Lyra to where she was today: standing in the mirror and trembling from hoof to clenched jaw, the temptation to strike that unforgiving, derisive mare in the mirror growing the longer she stared into it. Lyra, however, knew better: she was a model citizen of Equestria. She knew better than to punch through glass just to take out her rage. Instead, she followed her routine, parting her trembling lips as she uttered the magic word.
"S-Sunshines..."
It was only the fourth day with the saudades.
Four days of sullen thoughts and a sinking heart.
The emptiness was eating away at her for only four days, yet the gaping chasm within her never subsided. Rather, it was growing. It was clawing out from within, seeking to break her apart. Her heart had already reached the bottom of whatever trench it was in, yet she could feel it burrowing deeper down, threatening to drag her into the darkness.
It only made her wonder if she toiled through a year's worth of saudades already.
"FERRA, I'm heading out."
"What about breakfast, Lyra?"
"I''ll be having it over at Vinyl's," she inexpicably answered, heading out the door. "Take care of the house for me."
"Will do, Lyra." . . .
. . .
"That'll be four bits."
Without hesitation nor delay, Lyra Heartstrings placed said amount onto the stall, exchanging it for a caramel-glazed pretzel. Grasping it with her magic, she trotted onwards to her workplace, taking a few bites off her little treat. It wasn't the most healthy breakfast she could think of, nor was it the most fulfilling, but it gave her the little jumpstart she needed for the day. She'll stave off the hunger that will ensue until lunch if she had to, knowing she had bigger problems on her mind to deal with. Anypony can lie to a FERRA without breaking a sweat, though not many would feel bad about it. Lyra hated it, feeling guilty over lying to her household robot, but it was still a lie. Nothing bugged her more than the feeling of guilt, that is, until the saudades came along.
It was really strange, this feeling of yearning, of an incoherent loss. Understanding what she was exactly feeling only served to make it more confusing than it already was. Lyra knew there was no absolute cure— you can't cure an emotion. Even so, there were always the opposites: if she was sad, she'd find something to make her happy; if she was angry, she'd find something to cool her down.
If she had lost something, she'd have to get it back.
Question was, what did she lose?
"Look who's here."
"Sunshines, Lightning." Lyra gave her colleague a wave as she stepped into the warehouse. She gave a good look around the place, which was piling up with more work than ever, what with the various machines and parts all over the floor. However, there was one thing missing from it all. One very, very, very important thing.
"Where's Vinyl?" she asked.
"On a trip to the barracks to return the CASS," Lightning answered, tightening a few gears with a small screwdriver. "She said she probably won't be back in time for lunch, so we'll be eating by ourselves later."
"Okay, I guess."
"You okay there, Heartstrings? You look pretty bummed out."
"Wha—me?" Lyra spluttered. "I'm A-OK, for your information. Feeling pretty fine today! Lovely day!"
"If your definition of pretty fine is sulking in the corner, then I guess there's nothing bothering you."
Lyra coughed out a bland chuckle, resisting the temptation to roll her eyes. With Vinyl gone, the last thing both mares needed was a full-blown argument; the luxurious pact of peace was one that she and Lightning would appreciate together. Surveying the warehouse, she smiled when she spotted a broken FERRA, crystal detached from the base and waiting to be tended to.
"Dibs on the FERRA," she announced, already reaching for a toolbox. "What say you, Lightning Dust?"
"Dibs acknowledged."
"Sheesh, I'm just trying to lighten the mood here."
"I'm kinda busy, you know?" Lightning groused, waving a wrench for emphasis. "Though I wouldn't mind if you have the dibs on everything else as well."
"Yeah, like that's gonna happen," Lyra scoffed, tossing her mane back.
Only five minutes in and Lightning already accomplished the goal of souring everything up. Having the saudades only added a dash of misery into the mix, enhancing her suffering further as she expected it would. She had considered taking a leave just to wait until her mood lightened up, but the sudden influx at work forced her to stay. She could leave at any time, yet she didn't want to see Vinyl breaking her back over a few extra orders. It'll only make her feel bad, which would've been the icing on the most despicable cake she might ever come across. Deciding instead to focus on the FERRA, Lyra began her work, removing one of the platings holding the robot together. Within it was a sight that not many a pony would come to: a carefully weaved mesh of wires, a grandeur assortment of small gears, various pistons, springs, coils and the pièce de résistance, the crystal of magic itself, faintly glowing within the embrace of copper and brass.
"Few rusted gears and a depleted power source," Lyra's mind listed out the problems. "Should be a quick one."
Time was kind enough to pick up its pace as Lyra began working fervently, finishing one request after another, filling out all the necessary papers that Vinyl would fill if she were here. By the time noon came around, most of the broken FERRAs were back in top condition, sacrificing all that remains of her unfulfilling breakfast in return. Her stomach was growling in desperation for lunch, made worse only by the raw grumble of the saudades within her.
"Lightning, you finished yet?" she called out to her colleague.
"Few more bolts and I'm done."
"I guess you could call them Lightning's bolts?"
"Oh, haha," Lightning Dust deadpanned at that crude attempt of a joke, looking up at her giggling friend from behind the vending machine she was working on. "Just wait for a moment, alright? I'll be done in a sec."
Lyra Heartstrings kicked back her hooves, rolling up what was left of her patience into a small pill and swallowed it with the scowl of a spoiled foal. Rather than watching her friend tinkering away, she resorted herself to relishing in a commodity that announced its arrival in Vinyl's absence: tuning in to the radio. Letting out a hum of delight mixed with a subtle dash of mischief, she turned the knob to full blast. . . .
"—and that was the fantabulously wonderful Miss Coloratura, once again amazing us with her stunning new track, 'Filly of a Preacher Mare', right here on the Flim Flam Rodeo Breakfast Show! My, my! She really is the shining star of our times, isn't she, Flam?"
"No doubt about that, Flim! Aside from her beauty, which is of no question, I dare say she may be one of the greatest minstrels of our time! You hear me, brother! Of all time!" . . .
"Vinyl had a point about the radio," Lightning Dust grumbled while rubbing her ringing ears, making Lyra snicker. . . .
"Now, moving on towards more exciting stories! Flim, have you by any chance heard of the latest miracle cure?"
"I did not, Flam! Do enlighten me on this miracle cure of yours!"
"Ah, this one's a fine doozy, if you ask me! Fruit Of The Bloom has announced the arrival of Alma, the latest in the line of Cytosols that could brighten up your lovely day!" . . .
"That's the new one, right?" Lightning Dust popped the question. "Been seeing it everywhere lately. Something about companionship and whatever."
"Yeah," Lyra muttered, reminded of the sign Royal Riff held up in the basket full of all those bottles, the undeniably catchy slogan still remaining fresh in her head. "All you need for companionship is a single sip. Sure, like that's gonna happen."
"I'm alright with a bottle of Connie or Kyna. You know, something along the lines of reality, but Alma? A drink for companionship? Really? You must be pretty desperate to buy a drink that helps you find a friend in life." . . .
"I hear our listeners, Flam! Isn't the Alma already out on the shelves since last week? Why are we, the Flim Flam Brothers, reporting it once more?"
"Simple, Flim! Now, I know there are some skeptics out there about what Alma can do, but there is something great about Alma that a lot of ponies have been missing out! Something so unbelievable that I'm sure over half of our faithful listeners would not believe their ears with what I'm about to say next! This is the truth, fellow ponies! Word for word!" . . .
"And... done!" Lightning finally announced with a sigh, tossing her wrench aside with a loud clatter and giving her hooves and wings a stretch. "Alright, I'm starving! Ready to go, Heartstrings?"
Lyra would always be ready with the prospect of lunch around the corner without a moment's hesitation. That should be true for today as well, what with her belly gnawing at her mind over her minuscule morning meal. She was already about to say yes from the get go, shut the radio with a spin on the knob and trot on her merry way towards the nearest diner to reward her patience with a grand feast. She was ready to head off to get her mind off her problems and her stomach fulfilled with a monument of pancakes and some wedges dipped in a swirly mountain of mayonnaise.
She wasn't ready, however, for what the radio host had said next. . . .
"As of today, Alma has been proven to be a legitimate cure for the saudades!" . . . . . .
. . .
A cure for the saudades.
A miracle cure.
To many, the announcement has brought about cheers and celebrations from all around the district. Finally, finally, somepony discovered a cure for the saudades! Finally, ponies all about can go about their lovely day without being bothered by that sinking feeling! Finally, ponies can be rid of the little pest bothering them in their heads and be on their way! Finally, they cried! Finally!
Lyra didn't realize how widespread the saudades where. In her journey back after a fulfilling lunch with Lightning Dust at the closest diner, a mere seven blocks away, she had heard enough exhilarated hurrahs to parallel the festive parades of the Summer Sun Celebration. Nurse Redheart made an understatement about calling it a common disease, really— with the uproar she's seeing, it should be called a pandemic instead! Screams of utter joy rang from window to window, some of them smashing into her eardrums liberally like a punching bag in a gymnasium. Stallions were prancing about like cheery schoolfillies, randomly grabbing a partner from around them (Lyra couldn't count how many offers she had dodged) and dancing to their heart's content. All they needed were fireworks and a storm of streamers to make it all better.
"Didn't realize the 3-Fourteen's bumped up their schedule," Lightning laughed at her own joke. "Still, we've been waiting for this for ages! Never thought I'd lived to the day I would hear this. At best, I thought I'll be a senior citizen by then, with the graying mane and the hospital bed and everything—"
"Wait, ponies were waiting for this?"
"Cure for the saudades, Heartstrings!" the pegasus cried, before chuckling. "Seriously, where have you been, Lyra? Is the rock you're living under that big?"
"How come I wasn't aware of this?" Lyra asked, baffled with a growing frustration. "I lived here as long as everypony else! I should've known about this when everypony else does!"
"Looks like you don't, though. And here, I thought I'm the slow learner."
Lightning Dust had a way with brushing the wrong feather against her nerves. Every time, the static that came from it would charge up the battery in her, all for it to be drained out when she heads home and scream it all out loud into the darkest confines of her pillow. Lyra knew better than to let it out in the open, for it would be less than desirable, especially if Vinyl caught wind of it. That mare... ho, that mare could fix both of them up faster than the royal sentry could ever dream of.
However, that was a time when she didn't have the saudades.
"You probably heard it from some stallion you banged last night."
"What did you say?" she growled, turning her head.
"Man, did all that drilling ruined your hearing?" Lyra flouted, mocking a concerned gasp. "Or did your rent-colt screw them out with all that grunting? Always the loud ones, huh—"
A loud crack tore her voice out, pain stinging in her cheeks as Lyra stumbled backwards. Before she could recover, she felt herself being yanked forward by her shoulders, her stare finally landing onto the burning yellow pupils of Lightning Dust. The mare's wings were outstretched, turquoise feathers glinting in the glare of sunlight and shifting to the rhythm of her huffing and puffing. Gritting her teeth, she hoisted Lyra just a little higher, hoof already poised to deliver the next blow.
"Say it again, I fucking dare you!" she snarled. "You think you can get away with that kind of shit talk, Heartstrings?! You think that just because I work with you in the same fucking shop I'll let it slide?!"
"Guessing satisfaction's not guaranteed?"
A blow to the stomach sent Lyra reeling, two hooves clutching tightly onto her belly before she fell to the ground, writhing in pain. Her ribs crumpled in hellfire, her head swimming as her diaphragm struggled to pitch itself back up even as she felt everything crashing down onto it. Her eyes broke free from the ferocious maws of agony, lids trembling to open and shaky pupils jaggedly drawing up to face Lightning Dust towering over her, panting menacingly.
"You ass..." she could barely hear her colleague mutter. "Celestia damn it, Lyra, you made me do this..."
"H-Heh," the unicorn managed to wheeze. Her trembling hooves lifted her shaking form up, wobbling about before finding balance. She winced, a soreness cementing itself in her belly that would certainly last until tomorrow. Gasping back her supply of air, she coughed out a derisive chuckle, dead eyes staring into the other mare. "That how you cope with your mistakes or what?"
"For Celestia's sake, can you fucking shut up?!" Lightning screeched. "What the fucking hell's wrong with you, Heartstrings?! I didn't even do jack shit to you and you're being such a turd mouthed prick!!"
"Well, look who's fucking talking?!!" Lyra retaliated. "As if you haven't been running your own mouth sideways, Lightning Dust!!"
"What are you even talking about, Lyra?!"
"Stop acting as if you didn't know what you've done!!"
"I don't know what I've done, alright?!"
Lyra was shaking, those words sending her seething into a world of red. Her shoulder tensed to the war drum of her heart, ignoring all those wide-eyed stares around and zeroing in onto Lightning Dust. Before she even realized it, she began stomping towards the pegasus and, reaching back as far as she could, swung her hoof across her face.
Blood flew from Lightning's nostrils, spots of it flecking across the pavement; that blow was harder than she had hoped. As the mists of pent-up frustration cleared her head, Lyra stood there, wide-eyed with a sinking feeling in her gut as her friend quickly brought a hoof up towards her crumpled snout, hissing and cussing as a single trail of red ran down along the curves of her heel and fell in droplets onto the ground.
"L-Lightning, are you—"
"Get the fuck away from me!"
Lyra flinched as Lightning Dust stepped back, flaring her wings with a glower. Before any of them could make their next move, the frantic cacophony of galloping hooves and soft mumbles from the crowd made both of them turn. Ice crawled up their joints when they spotted seven glinting gold plates of helmets, saddles and chestplates bearing a red sun: the unmistakable attire of the royal guard. Their stern gazes darted towards her, narrowing when it shifted towards Lightning's bleeding snout.
"We heard that there was a commotion," one of them turned to Lyra and inquired as two more headed to Lightning's side. "What happened here, Miss?"
"We... I... th-there was a misunderstanding between the two of us and—"
"Misunderstanding? Misundersta— Lyra, you fucking, lying piece of—"
Lightning Dust lunged forward, only to be grappled back just in time by the pair of guards tending to her bleeding snout. She twisted and floundered in their clutches, yelling and screaming profanities of every hue in the spectrum. The sight of her colleague, squirming and kicking in vain... Lyra couldn't have bitten her lip harder than she ever did.
"Miss, I'm afraid we're going to have to take you both in," the guard told her. "We'll have to take a few statements from you and your, uh... friend over there. Now, if you would please come along with me..."
Lyra could not muster an audible reply, trotting along and watching as one of the unicorn guards holding Lightning back cast some sort of spell with his horn and directed it at her friend. Sure enough, the cussing pegasus's fervent kicks began to slow, her eyelids drooping listlessly and her vocabulary reduced to a drawl of murmurs, before Lightning's struggles came to an abrupt halt, sleeping soundly while the guards placed her onto a bed of hovering magic.
"Don't worry, Miss," the guard trotting alongside her assured. "She will be alright."
The mare nodded. She knew the both of them will be alright, that was certainly no doubt. There will be cold fronts from Lightning Dust for a while, but it would wear away eventually. However, she also knew that there would be one other pony that will not be fine with what had just happened.
Not fine at all. . . .
. . .
The lights of the warehouse flickered, illuminating the sleek, robust cabinets and the various tools scattered around the floor, left as it were before their departure for lunch. All of it, eagerly awaiting for their return to fixing, tinkering and tweaking of whatever contraption and machinery was tasked to them, but with what had just transpired, it wouldn't be so until after a minute or two.
Lyra Heartstrings meekly sauntered in, her head hanging low all the way from the police station back to the spacious office of Crescendo Restorations. Following behind her, with a grimace plastered over her bruised snout, was Lightning Dust, whom Lyra knew, from the tingles occasionally racing down her back, that she had been glaring daggers at her throughout the whole journey. The pegasus was livid, with good reason, though not so much as the last pony in the group was.
Vinyl Scratch was the last of them to step in. With a swift tug of her magic, the steel garage door came cascading down, crashing and thrashing in protest before slamming onto the ground with an aggravatingly raucous bang that made the other two jump and whirl around. Frozen in place, Lyra and Lightning watched as their manager, with an exasperated sigh, trotted towards her work table and placed her glasses, before turning to them with a deadpan stare.
"Explain to me, please," she began coldly, glancing between the two offenders. "How it happened. How all that stuff just now happened."
Both of them did not respond.
"Nothing? Really? Alright, then this is how I see it."
Vinyl cleared her throat, the fire in her cerise eyes burning brighter.
"I just came back from visiting the Barracks in the Nova District, tired and pissed off because the asshat of the guard that broke his birdie tried to start up a bargain over our services, even though I specifically told him the day he came to us that we charge with no exceptions. One long shouting match later, I got out with the money, bought a sandwich along the way, was walking back here, when a guard came up to me and I learned that two of my friends were beating each other up like some stupid kids fighting over a lollipop on the corner of the avenue and were brought to the station. I head to the station, paid to bail both of your asses out and the medical fee for your bleeding nose, which, in total, is essentially half of what we've earned from the CASS, which could've been used to cover some of our taxes."
Lyra and Lightning both glanced away at the last sentence, but Vinyl wasn't done yet.
"So I wanna ask both of you the same question: what the fuck happened out there?"
"Lyra started it!" Lightning seized the opportunity. "She said to me, right in my face, that I banged some stupid colt!"
"Yeah, and then you smacked me across the face because, oh I don't know, it was such a good idea?!"
"Cause you kept on going, Heartstrings! You kept on talking shit, on and on and—"
"So you had to punch me in the gut?! That's your excuse?!"
"What about you?! Your punch made my nose bleed, you fucking hypocrite!!"
"SHUT UP!!"
Both mares immediately fell silent, stunned at Vinyl's sudden outburst.
"You're in my office" she scowled, glaring between the two. "I want to hear an explanation, not accusations over whose fault and who said what, who did what, none of that!! I don't want to hear that kind of bullshit in here! This is NOT how shit works around here and I will not let this kind of shit talking happen around here! Am I clear?!"
Silence.
"AM I CLEAR?!!"
"Yes, Vinyl!" Lyra and Lightning spluttered out, almost in unison.
"Now then," Vinyl began again, roping her flared temper back in. "Lyra, did you say that Lightning went and got off with a stallion somewhere?"
"Technically, I told her—"
"Did you or did you not?" Vinyl interrupted. "Yes? Or no?"
Lyra sighed in utter defeat. "Y-Yeah, I did..." she mumbled. "But only because I was... I was... I couldn't take it anymore!"
"Take what?"
"Everything!"
Vinyl turned to Lightning, who provided only a baffled look and a shrug. "Lyra, please," she said breathlessly with growing concern. "You gotta let me know what's bothering you. Please, I have to know, not as your manager or anything, but as your friend. So please, for our sake, for Lightning and I, just... tell me what's wrong."
"I don't know!" Lyra yelled, glaring at each of them as if daring them to say something, before her muscles finally gave up, her shoulders slouching and her head wilting to the floor as she gave a defeated sigh. "I don't know... I don't know anymore. I thought it would be over, but it's just so... so... it keeps getting worse and worse each day..."
"The saudades, right?" Vinyl guessed, to which she nodded glumly. "Look, you could talk to us about it, you know? It's not like we didn't get the saudades before."
"Wait, you had the saudades too?"
"Yeah. Multiple times," she chuckled, not exactly proud of that achievement. "Didn't go to a Rosy Maple's for it, so I didn't know what it was, but when you told me about it, I had to do a little research. Turns out I had the saudades a few times before. Thought it was just the stockpiled frustration and fatigue I picked up from work, but I guess it's much more than that. Heck, even Lightning here went through it!"
Lyra's disbelief soared to heights she had never reached before, wide eyes of awe directed at her colleague. Lightning Dust, flustered as she was, could only scratch her mane, looking somewhat dispirited, if not a little apologetic. Still, when she thought about what the pegasus had said before the fight that ensued, it made a little sense.
"Yeah, once or twice," Lightning mumbled. "I didn't know you were going through that, Heartstrings, honestly, I didn't. I thought you were just bummed out because Vinyl left you with me at the store or something like that. I mean, had I known it was the saudades..."
Lightning's voice trailed off into silence, her eyes drawn back to the floor. It only made Lyra question how notorious this saudades thing really was, which only made her wonder whether Nurse Redheart realized how unbelievably common this leeching of emotion was felt. She still hadn't forgotten her meeting with the nurse on the weekend, to which she added a mental note of asking her about it. Right after their grand feast of donuts, of course! Right now, however, she has to settle this, one way or another.
"I'm sorry, Lightning," she gave her wholehearted apology. "I was... I guess I was just... I didn't know—"
"It was the saudades, Lyra. I've been there, I would know," Lightning said with a chuckle. "I'm the one who should be sorry, really. Guess that 'strike first, ask later' approach didn't work out quite as planned."
All three of them laughed mirthfully, Lyra ending hers with a languid sigh of relief.
"Look, why don't you take the rest of the day off?" Vinyl suggested, much to the other unicorn's surprise. "Take care of your saudades for today?"
"R-Really? B-But... but the orders—"
"Lightning and I will take care of them," Vinyl assured, the pegasus beside her nodding confidently. "Don't sweat it, Lyra! Won't take anything out from your cut, I promise."
Lyra smiled her most genuine smile of the day.
"Thanks, guys."
With wishes of luck, a wave of goodbyes and the rest of the day ahead of her, Lyra Heartstrings slid the garage door of Crescendo Restorations back up, reopening it for business while she took her leave. She trotted back home, trying her best to let the flow of the lovely day take her mind to a better place. The only feeling that remained left of her friendship fiasco with Lightning Dust was the rumbling ache in place of where the pegasus punched her in the gut. Or was that ache from the saudades? At this point, she couldn't tell.
Speaking of which, Alma was apparently a cure for the saudades, if one were to believe the honeyed words of a crafty pair of radio hosts. Though she was no medical expert, Lyra remained dubious when it comes to Alma and all the other Cytosols, remaining adamant that it was all a sham, despite all the positive attention her friends gave it. Even Vinyl, who had vocally opposed Cytosol manufacturer Fruit Of The Bloom's parent company, Starswirl Incorporated, had showered it with more praise than she could ever hope for.
For Alma to be a miracle cure for the saudades? Preposterous, she cried in her head!
"There's just no way..." she chortled with a shake of her head, slowly but surely cantering back home.
"No way at all..." . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . .
Miss Heartstrings?
Miss Heartstrings, are you there? . . . . . . . . . . Subject is awake, but comatose, unable to respond.
My, my, Miss, they really did a number on you...
Seriously, I understand their need for brute force, but do they really have to go that far? You're in utter luck that they didn't damage your major organs or your parasympathetic systems. Otherwise, I would have a really, really dead mare on my table. We can't have that now, can we? This whole thing would've been pointless...
Hard to say for sure if this would work. Highly doubt I'd get any proper readings from this, but the results are, without a doubt, certain, if the past few subjects have been of any concern. It could've been much more rewarding! Oh, so much more~! I can't even begin to reiterate how profitable it could've been!
Enough fretting, as mother may phrase it. Really though, enough.
Commence the experiment. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . I'll see you again, Miss Heartstrings.
