Ambient Waves

Princess Acallia, Zephyr Kingdom Ambient Waves Acallia, This will be short. The sun didn’t rise today. Everypony keeps saying it will, but the sky is black and , like something behind it is pushing through. The screams started before dusk.  Not just ponies but  with them, like a second voice wrapped around the real one. The sound carried through the whole town, echoing off walls that shouldn’t echo indoors. Shadows are moving on their own now. Not creeping... . They stretch across the ground even without light, as if they don’t need it anymore.  Ponyville looks smothered, like night has swallowed the day whole. The candle is burning too fast. Wax keeps spilling onto the page— —me —safe —come Something hit the house. Hard. The walls buckled inward like it was trying to breathe with me. Doors keep slamming even though I wedged them shut. I heard somepony outside yelling for help a few minutes ago. I knew the voice. But the shadow under their hooves was . It moved before they did. I can’t open the door. I don’t think it was them. The candle’s almost out. Every time it flickers the dark gets closer. It climbs the walls like it’s alive. Acallia— If anypony finds this—

Your Majesty, I wanted only to send a brief update. Twilight Sparkle left Ponyville yesterday with two quiet, unmarked escorts. She said she had been “called to assist with ongoing research in Canterlot,” though she did not specify what kind. She avoided my eyes when I asked. Fluttershy followed soon after — not distressed, but She told me she would be back “when things settle,” though I do not know what she meant by that. Applejack left this morning. Not with fanfare. Not with goodbyes. Just a nod and a cart hitched behind her. She did not say where she was going. Pinkie has gone “to check on relatives.” Rarity left to fulfill an “urgent commission.” It is not that any pony is frightened. The strangest part was their composure. They didn’t rush. They didn’t panic. They simply… that it was time to go.  And the town accepted it too, in that quiet way communities do when they’ve already decided not to discuss something. But the of these six is… noticeable. Not only because they are beloved, but because they are the ponies we have come to trust when something is amiss. If they are gone, and we are not told why. What are we meant to do I am not accusing. I am not frightened. I only want to understand the purpose of this movement. If there is preparation happening elsewhere, I would like to know whether I should remain here, or be of assistance. Respectfully,

Your Majesty, I write again, though I know you asked for patience. I promise I am trying. But the shadows have changed again. Not simply absent, now — When I walk through the marketplace, I see shapes where shadows be still. A pony stands at a stall, perfectly motionless, but their shadow , as if turning its head to look behind itself. Sometimes, the shadow when the pony does not. Sometimes, the shadow is than the pony casting it. And more than once now, I’ve seen a second shadow where there should only be one. Always in the very edge of my vision. When I turn... it is gone. I thought perhaps I was only imagining it. But there is the matter of the rooftops. The silhouettes are changing. At twilight, when the sky goes that pale purple — I see They look like vines at first, thin and delicate, curling along the eaves. But when the light fades a little more, the vines look more like Not waving. Not reaching. And in full darkness, they are not there at all. As if they only exist in the moment between day and night. The others don’t see it. Or they do, and they simply don’t remember afterward. Pinkie Pie laughed when I tried to describe it and said roofs “just look spooky sometimes.” Fluttershy suggested maybe I needed more sleep. Twilight told me again that Harmony is adjusting and that my awareness is simply “attuned.” I believe them. I to believe them. But the shadows still move when I close my eyes. And the rooftops curve just a little sharper each morning. I fear something is in the places where light used to fall. Your Majesty... please... if you know anything about this, anything at all, tell me. I don’t think this is just the world settling. I think something is Respectfully,

Envoy Ambient Waves Her Radiant Highness Princess Acallia, Zephyr Kingdom Your Highness, I believe I must amend my previous report. This morning, Ponyville seemed perfectly ordinary. The streets were lively, the weather agreeable, the ponies cheerful. I felt almost embarrassed recalling what I had written before. But by evening, the familiarity had thinned again. I can’t describe it well. There are sounds that should always be present — hooves on the road, insects at dusk, distant conversation. The quiet texture of a place beyond where one stands. Tonight, it felt as though the world ended just outside my line of sight. As if the town only existed in the places I was actively looking. Twilight insists her readings show nothing unusual. The Princess continues to encourage patience, saying harmony will “settle naturally.”  I’ve heard that reassurance so many times now that I can’t tell whether it’s comforting me… or simply replacing what I used to think on my own. I do not believe I am in any danger — not physically. But I am starting to worry that I will lose the ability to judge what feel real. Please advise how long I am expected to remain. I worry that if I stay too long, I will forget what normal days are meant to feel like. Always in service, Zephyr Kingdom Diplomatic Corps (updated posted old draft ^^)

Envoy Ambient Waves, Zephyr Kingdom Diplomatic Corps Her Radiant Highness, Princess Acallia  Your Highness, I remain stationed in Ponyville as ordered, though I must confess the situation is becoming increasingly… difficult to quantify. I hesitate to use the word “unnatural,” yet none of my training accounts for what I am observing. This evening it rained again...soft, steady, unremarkable at first. I went outside to check the gauges. The ground shimmered with droplets; my coat darkened as it should. But then, every few seconds, something impossible: a raindrop would strike and me instead. Not evaporate— the sensation. For a heartbeat the patch of fur would be warm and bone-dry before the next drop turned it wet again. Standing there, I felt both soaked and parched in the same instant. The readings on my instruments flickered in perfect rhythm with each alternation—wet, dry, wet, dry—like the world couldn’t decide which version of itself to commit to. The locals noticed nothing unusual. They complain about the weather as though it’s merely late in the season. Twilight insists her measurements show consistency, but I have begun to suspect that “consistency” here no longer means what it used to. I understand if my reports sound fevered. I reread them and hardly recognize my own phrasing. Still, I record what I see. If truth itself has grown relative, then at least this letter may serve as evidence that we once noticed. Ever in service, Zephyr Kingdom Diplomatic Corps (Fixed grammar and also the wrong pony name ^^ Accident from another RP/OC I RP as ^^, This was meant to be before Letter 3 in the Consequences of the Rainboom.)

I’ve read your reply again and again, trying to find comfort in your certainty... in the promise that '', that what we see are only tricks of light. But with respect, how can you say that? You wrote that you’ve “” and that we cannot rule him out. I wish that made me feel safer, but it only deepens the unease. If even you must turn to him for counsel, what are we facing? And if it truly were his doing, would it feel like this? Discord’s chaos laughs... this is silence. He breaks patterns with noise, not stillness. The world doesn’t twist...it The rain falls without being wet. Shadows hum faintly when nopony moves. The air feels hollow, as if it’s listening. You tell us to rest, to trust, to have faith in balance… but faith feels like the only thing still moving. You said harmony bends when viewed from the wrong angle. I thought of the Rainboom when I read that—of how the light shouldn’t have split the way it did. I don’t think it bent, Your Majesty. It like it broke. For a heartbeat, even the sky forgot how to be whole. Sometimes I wonder if that’s where we are now—somewhere inside that moment, still waiting for the light to remember how to fit together again. Maybe that’s foolish. Maybe I’m only seeing what I expect to see. Maybe that’s what we’re living in now! the space between those colors. A world caught inside the prism, where every reflection shows a different morning. You also wrote that Discord “” That frightens me most of all. I can almost hear him laughing not What if he isn’t mocking this, but mourning it? What if even he can’t fix what’s been unmade? I’m trying to trust you. I want to. But the seal on your letter was still warm when I opened it, though the courier swore he carried it for two days. The wax smelled faintly of rain. I don’t know what that means, and I’m afraid to guess. If Discord truly knows something, please, make him speak. Don’t wait until harmony bends further or until the colors no longer meet. Because if the Rainboom was a beginning instead of an end… then the light hasn’t stopped breaking. With deepest respect and growing fear,

I know everypony is tired of hearing about “the Dash Event,” but I can’t stop thinking about what I saw tonight. Nothing spectacular happened...no lights, no thunder...just a feeling that the world has started to slip. It began at Sugarcube Corner. I stopped by after dusk; the lamps inside were warm and steady, the air smelled of cinnamon. Pinkie handed me a slice of cake and said, “Morning’s almost here!” I laughed because it was clearly past eight in the evening. But when I glanced at the display case, the glass didn’t show the shop as it was. Inside, it was night... lamplight, shadows, Pinkie humming. Yet in the reflection, streamed through the same windows. The same shelves, the same counter, but lit by a bright, early light that didn’t exist anywhere else. Just for a heartbeat. Then the glass went back to normal, and everything looked perfectly ordinary again. The air’s quieter, too. Sounds don’t echo quite right. Hooves click once less than they should. And Twilight… she swears everything is stable, but I caught her staring at a spoon’s surface as though waiting for it to move on its own. Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe it’s just nerves, or the storm in the upper atmosphere she keeps mentioning. Still, I keep the curtains drawn now. I’d rather not see another morning that isn’t ours. Respectfully,

Envoy Ambient Waves, Diplomatic Observer of the Zephyr Kingdom Her Highness, Princess Acallia of the Northern Courts Initial Observations — Ponyville Region Your Highness, As instructed, I remain in Equestria under my posting as Spa Maiden. In truth, there is little culture to record at present; the only topic of conversation across the realm is what they have begun calling   You will have received the official communiques about the sterile accounts of light phenomena, atmospheric disturbances, and “temporary thaumic inversions.” Permit me to tell you what those reports cannot capture. I stood in Ponyville when it happened. I saw the sky rupture into color so bright it burned shape out of the world. The locals name it beautiful; I could not. For one instant, I felt the air vanish from my lungs, as though the sky itself inhaled. Princess Celestia has requested calm and has assured us that the incident is contained. Yet I have written to her privately, and even as my quill touched the page the air around me seemed to shimmer...only a trick of light, perhaps. The ponies here are cheerful still, but it is the brittle cheer of a patient pretending to recover. The pegasi speak in hushed voices about wind currents that curve the wrong way. Farmers complain that sunlight no longer feels warm, only bright. And at night, if you watch the stars carefully, you will notice they pulse...ever so slightly...like the rhythm of a distant heart. I do not write to alarm you, Highness, but to beg a consideration: should the Zephyr Kingdom maintain its observation post here if Equestria itself is changing? My instruments give readings that should be impossible; background mana fluxes that rise and fall with no source, as though the world itself is breathing irregularly. Still, I will remain until recalled. Curiosity wins out over fear...for now. Yet I confess, when I close my eyes, I feel the wind hesitate before it touches me, as though deciding it belongs to. With unwavering service, Diplomatic Research Division, Zephyr Kingdom A followup to https://canterlotavenue.com/blog/2336/consquences-of-the-rainboom-letter-1/

I write this not as a scholar, but as a witness to something I cannot reconcile with the world I thought I lived in. It began as a sound. Not thunder, but something far heavier, a noise that didn’t strike the ears, but the mind itself. The air grew still. Birds stopped mid-flight. Even the Everfree Forest fell silent. Then came the streak, a line of light so sharp it felt like the sky had been cut open. The textbooks say nothing can move faster than light... that the speed of light is the universe’s ultimate rule.  That at that limit, Space folds. Matter becomes energy. But I watched Rainbow Dash . And in that instant, I realized what it means to see something the universe itself forbids. The moment she crossed that barrier, the world convulsed. Shadows . The light of the sun , forming a halo around the horizon like an eye blinking shut. The pressure in my chest vanished, as though the air forgot how to exist. My own heartbeat lagged behind me. Twilight once lectured at Town Hall about the equations of relativity. She said: “To go faster than light would require infinite energy... more power than exists in all of Equestria combined.” And yet there she was. Do you know what like? It looks like the sky tearing itself into spectra. Like the horizon splitting into copies of itself. Like every color you’ve ever known screaming at once before collapsing into silence. Then came the ... We could see stars! . Not twinkling, but , as if painted across glass. The light around the edges rippled, distorted, refracted through whatever that thing was just a wound in causality, a scar in the firmament. Every clock in Ponyville stopped for 0.003 seconds. We know this because they afterward. A few unicorns fainted from magical feedback; one poor stallion claims his reflection hasn’t been in sync since. When Dash reappeared, she wasn’t flying so much as There were two of her for a moment...one arriving, one still arriving... and they overlapped like a broken photograph before collapsing into a single shape. She laughed... Said she’d “” I don’t think she understands what she did. We’re told that causality is absolute. But I saw a pony She didn’t just outrun sound, she outran I can’t sleep, Princess. Every time I close my eyes, I see that hole in the sky... that silent starfield hanging over the noon sun. I keep thinking: if she can move faster than light, faster than time, then what if she didn’t just from somewhere? What if she Your terrified subject, Ponyville Observer, Amateur Spa maiden, and Unwilling Witness