literature

Blue Eyes

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It was late, it was stormy and Gypsy was trying desperately to ignore the loud thumping on her door. Usually a response of no response was enough to drive off the most pesky of those that sought her out, but this particular pegasus was very insistent. And getting very annoying. She unconsciously began to stir the chocolate in her pot that much more forcefully then she really needed to.

Gypsy was getting sick of living in such close quarters with the pegasi. It turned out that ponies were the same regardless if they had wings, horns or just hooves – they all wanted to know their future and they weren't pleased when she told them the truth. She was at a loss every time another pony blew up at her, shouting and often trying to smash her crystal globe. She was merely answering their questions; did they want her to lie to their faces? They'd asked for the future, she'd given it to them. She wasn't responsible for the fire that would ravage a home, or a loved one that would never reciprocate. Gypsy had hoped she'd finally be able to make friends among the others of her species, but she'd never failed to alienate every single pegasus that had come to talk to her.

Sometimes she wished her talent wasn't so prominently displayed, wished that she could hide it somehow. The damn crystal ball that glimmered on her flank brought her untold grief – she couldn't understand why foals were so eager to receive theirs. No doubt that was why her unexpected door banger was visiting at such a ridiculous time – somepony had probably spied her going on her usual business, made the connection between her cutie mark and the rumours of a soothsayer taking up residence and decided to investigate.

The banging really was getting on her nerves. And Gypsy was impressed, whoever it was had to be some sort of stallion to be making the sturdy door rattle so. That and the dogged stamina considering she'd been trying to ignore the noise for a good few minutes.

Well if they were so eager to be angry or frustrated at her the quicker she got this over with the quicker she could return to her hot chocolate. With an irritated flick of her wing, Gypsy turned her stove off and with a last longing look at the quickly cooling chocolate in the pot, she stalked to the door and threw it open.

“What could anypony possibly want at this hour-” She stopped short in her tirade, emerald eyes narrowing in suspicion. At first she'd thought her decidedly energetic manner of opening the door had knocked her visitor off their hooves. But then she heard a little sound, almost a squeak, and she craned her head down. And for the first time in a long while she was shocked into speechlessness.

A little white filly, golden blonde mane and tail absolutely sodden. She was so young, so small, Gypsy half thought that if she blinked for too long the little foal would suddenly sink through the cloud and fall to the unforgiving ground. The filly opened her mouth in an attempt to speak, but her teeth were chattering so hard she could barely talk.

“By Celestia's mane,” Gypsy muttered, feeling no small amount of guilt that she'd kept the foal outside in the rain. “You'd better come inside before you start shivering so hard your hooves can't keep you still.” She extended one of her wings, sheltering the filly and also ushering her in through the door. Gypsy turned, closing the door against the elements and shutting herself and her very unexpected visitor into the orange gold warmth of her modest cottage.

Gazing speechlessly at the filly Gypsy's mind began to whirl. What precisely was she meant to do next?  Gypsy was woefully inexperienced when it came to foals, but when the little white creature wouldn't stop shivering she surmised that a filly's needs couldn't be that different from a regular mare's. One of her wings shepherded the filly closer to the fire that Gypsy had banked just before she'd started her chocolate going, the other wing going to the blanket that she'd placed on a chair even though she never usually kept it there.

She hadn't known why she'd done either of those things at the time. She hadn't been cold, didn't enjoy using blankets. And as always when it came to things she did without knowing why, it had of course all turned out to be part of her talent manifesting. As Gypsy settled the young pegasus down onto the soft plush rug just before the fire, saw the filly sigh in relaxation as she tucked the fluffy blanket around her, suddenly Gypsy didn't mind her talent so much.

“What's your name?”

The filly turned guilelessly sky blue eyes to hers and Gypsy was almost floored by the inexplicable rush of fondness that suffused her. “Cobalt,” a determined little voice emanated from the filly, befitting a pony that had stood in the rain pounding upon a door until the hinges looked to be coming off.

“Where are your parents?” When Cobalt's mouth pursed, determinedly remaining shut, Gypsy crouched down to eye level with the filly. “Cobalt, where are your parents?”

Silence. Gypsy sighed, rubbing a wingtip over her head in frustration. “I don't want to be accused of foalnapping, Celestia knows it would just be another reason for ponies to be even more mean-”

“Are ponies mean to you too?” Cobalt had all but sparkled, seeming as if she'd just brought the sun into the room. “Do they play pranks on you and call you names?”

“Sometimes. More the name-calling than the prank-pulling though.” Gypsy admitted, her confusion making her forget what she ought not to say in front of a young pony. “But what would you know about that?”

Cobalt deflated, pulling the blanket even more firmly around herself. “The fillies at school aren't nice to me,” she muttered sullenly.

“Not nice? Now that can't be true.” Gypsy settled herself on the floor in front of the foal. “Why you seem like a very lovely little filly to me.” Cobalt sniffled, burying her muzzle into her forelegs and muttered something. Gypsy's ears pricked. “Pardon?”

Cobalt repeated what she'd muttered at a marginally louder level, “-s' why I came.”

“Oh?”

Cobalt raised her eyes to Gypsy's, bright blue gaze unimaginably sweet. “I just wanna know when they'll all notice me.”

And no matter how badly she wanted to, Gypsy just couldn't outright deny Cobalt. Not when she was looking at her like that, all blue eyes and sweet face. Gypsy never knew she was a sucker for puppy eyes but she found herself crumbling like wet tissue. “Cobalt, I don't think that's a good idea.”

The filly's mouth set into a determined jut. “Why not?”

“I won't lie to you. Do you understand what that means?”

“I don't want you to lie. Lying is bad.” Cobalt's expression turned pleading as her tone took on just a touch of a whine. “I just wanna know.”

“Think about it. If I won't lie to you, what happens if I see that they'll never notice you? How would that make you feel? Wouldn't you feel upset? Angry?”

Cobalt's head cocked to the side, her expression making it clear that the cogs in her head were turning. Gypsy could almost hear the gears turning. “Well. Well I guess I'd- I'd be sad.”

Gypsy sighed. “Yes it would. And I wouldn't want you to be.”

“But I'm already sad,” Cobalt muttered sulkily, wingtip playing with the edge of the blanket and Gypsy felt a piece of her heart break.

And that, the realisation that she had been involved in the filly's life as soon as she'd opened the door, was what made Gypsy leave to retrieve her crystal ball. When she returned to the room, the globe tucked safely under one wing, Cobalt was looking at her hopefully. Gypsy arranged herself on the floor in front of the filly and allowed the crystal ball to settle into place between her forelegs, unable to stop herself from smiling when she saw the unabashedly curious expression on Cobalt's face.

“Woah up there,” Gypsy giggled, using a wing to prop Cobalt back up securely on the sofa just as the filly began to slither down in her intent to study the crystal up close.

“What- is it?”

“It's a crystal ball.”

“Can I- touch it?”

And Gypsy could not resist letting Cobalt touch her nose curiously to the globe. There was no magic within the crystal, no innate power as most ponies supposed it to contain. She laughed at the disappointed look on Cobalt's face when she discovered as much. “The crystal directs and clarifies my ability,” Gypsy explained, absentmindedly rubbing the surface of the globe. “Strictly speaking I don't need it but it does help.”

“So do you just ask it a question?”

“I don't even need to say anything.” Gypsy lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, as if telling Cobalt a secret. Which she supposed she was, no other pony knew exactly what she did to trigger a fortune. “I just think and touch it.”

And to illustrate, she reached out with a wingtip and gently brushed the surface. The transparent crystal seemed to shatter apart into a rainbow of colours at the contact, facets glittering and burning as if the globe was made of some priceless diamond. Gypsy heard Cobalt gasp, heard her say something in excitement, but Gypsy couldn't respond. For an instant she was motionless, speechless, unable to do more then simply sit and stare into the blinding prism of colours the globe emitted.

Gypsy had been told that when she looked into the crystal her eyes did not remain green, that instead they would swirl with the reflection of the colours in the crystal. It wouldn't surprise her if they did, because during a Sight the images that began in the crystal would explode into her mind, and she would see the future as if it was playing out in front of her. Thankfully Sights were quick, near instantaneous. Otherwise she was certain with some of the futures she'd seen that her heart would never have been able to recover.

Few ponies bothered to enquire if she was ever affected by what she saw. If anypony had asked, she would have told them the truth as she always did. Gypsy was always affected.

And so it was with what she saw within Cobalt's future. Her far too immediate future. And even as the facets of colour within the crystal died as quickly as they'd flared, even as the image of a determined, sodden white filly being shocked into free fall had begun to fade from her mind, Gypsy could not catch her breath. Could not begin to form what she was going to say to those expectant blue eyes. That innocent face. The pristine, dry white coat and soft blonde mane.

“What did you see?”

She couldn't lie. Not to anypony, not even to this sweet little filly. She couldn't lie. But she could- “The other fillies will notice you,” Gypsy responded tersely, yanking the crystal ball forcefully from its position with her wing. She cradled it against her body, subconsciously defending it.

“That's great!” Cobalt jumped up in excitement, almost bouncing upon the sofa. “When? How? What'll happen? Is it gonna be great? Are we gonna be friends?”

“Isn't it enough to know that they'll notice you?” Gypsy stood, turning her back on Cobalt before her heart revolted and her stomach began to turn more in protest with her half truths. “You've got your fortune. It's time for you to go.”

“But- But-”

Gypsy determinedly headed for the door, trying her best not to notice the arrhythmic hoofsteps emanating from the couch as the filly became tangled up in her blanket. “It's late and you need to go back home before your parents start worrying.” She opened the door, remained motionless as Cobalt sulkily walked toward her. Even as the filly sighed dramatically, turned to use those dangerous pleading baby blues, Gypsy turned her face away.

Then, just as the last curl of that blonde tail began to slide out of her door- a little voice. A little, soft voice. “Can you at least tell me when?”

She shouldn't. She shouldn't she knew but still that damn compulsion to answer once again reared its head. “You should be careful when the storm clouds are out,” Gypsy replied in a voice just as quiet. “There's a reason why only the experienced weather pegasi are allowed to fly when thunder is scheduled.”

An indignant face whipped around, an angry little nose pushing itself back into her cottage. “What kinda answer-”

“Goodbye, Cobalt.”

Gypsy closed the door firmly, waiting until she heard the flutter of filly's wings carry her away. Then, and only then, Gypsy allowed herself to deflate. Not for the first time she wished she couldn't see the future. That her visions were not reliably accurate. It was not Gypsy's place to change the future. She only saw it, for better or worse. As much as she despised it sometimes, the world had a knack for setting things the way it wanted from the beginning. She had watched as ponies tried to change their futures, and in doing so only confirmed their own fates.

But as often as there was misery, there was also hope. Gypsy had not lingered in Cobalt's future, had not wanted to see more, but she had felt. She'd gotten a strong buffet of emotion related to a more distant future for the determined little filly – hope, love, friendship and acceptance. Before long the bullies of Cobalt's fillyhood would be a remnant of her past.

Still. Gypsy returned to her chocolate, now an unappetizing lump congealing in her pot. She poked it with her spoon and sighed. She should never have agreed to those blue eyes.
My entry for *Nazegoreng's contest - nazegoreng.deviantart.com/jour… -, featuring her OC Cobalt Tangle as a filly and my OC Gypsy jesymphony.deviantart.com/art/…

This was a great exercise for me to flesh out the personality of Gypsy as well as get the chance to be creative. Cobalt's backstory was so intriguing, and I just kept wondering what if filly Cobalt had access to one of the most accurate Soothsayers to live in Equestria (or at this moment in time, Cloudsdale)? So I hope *Nazegoreng enjoys what I've done, I now I had a lot of fun playing with her character :)
© 2013 - 2024 jesymphony
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NazFX's avatar
My goodness, I've got tears welling in my eyes after reading this. I'm a softie for fiction including Cobalt, but I was just totally absorbed into this tale. It was almost like I got a peak into her actual past. Gypsy's story is so tragic, but her encounter with Cobalt feels so natural, as if it was meant to be. I can't thank you enough for writing this beautiful piece.