Cirdan’s note: I leave you now with a beautiful yet feels-inducing story by karinaisab. She created the accompanying artwork as well. What another amazing insight into the imagination of Grey Havens YA!
She told me not to cry. “Things are never as bad as they seem,” she would say, “your fears will disappear with a few laughs!” I tried, I tried, I tried. I tried to laugh, I did, but who can laugh in the face of death?
She told me to be strong. “If y’all can be strong,” she had said to us, “then y’all will be able to do whatever y’all want.” Tell me, please, how to be strong when they’re all gone? When you’re so alone, the tears on your face feel normal?
She told me to always be kind. I could consider myself kind, but only to others. How can you be kind to yourself when it feels like when anything goes wrong, it’s your fault? How, how?
I opened my eyes. It wasn’t all a bad dream, everything had happened, everything was still wrong. I was used to the blurry vision by now; clarity was a rare occurrence. I could hide my frowns behind faux smiles – I’d been practicing.
She told me to be loyal to those who you kept close. It was something I’d been able to do, visiting them everyday. Everyone else… They’d all left. I was the only one who cared anymore. There were 5. Then, 4. I’d never held my friends closer. 3. 2. 1. 0.
Keep rare things close, she would say. Never let it go. I suppose I kept rare things close, too. Friendship was always the most important thing to me.
The ground below me was wet, though the weather team rarely brought rain to the cemetery. “To preserve them,” they would say. They certainly hadn’t brought rain here for a month at least. The blurred stone images around me signified I was crying. I heard myself crying, too. I was sobbing.
I felt a claw on my shoulder. I kept crying though. They were gone! I wouldn’t see them again, not for an eternity or more. “Twilight?” It was Spike, of course. He had grown in the past 100 years, the perfect size to hold me and comfort me, the perfect brother to stay with me forever. He took me in his scaly arms. They were uncomfortable, but also comfortable in the very same way. “Twilight,” he said again, quietly, “you need to calm down.” He was more mature than me sometimes.
I took a deep breath, and nodded. Spike wiped my eyes carefully. Clarity. They would fill up again, soon, but I could keep them clear for now.
Laughter. Honesty. Generosity. Kindness. Loyalty. The gravestones showed the elements.
Pinkie Pie. Applejack. Rarity. Fluttershy. Rainbow Dash. The gravestones showed the bearers.
40 years ago. “40 years ago,” I said to Spike, “that’s when I knew.”
“That there were no happy endings.”
Send us an owl: What would you do in Twilight’s situation?