Consquences of the Rainboom (Letter #4)

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 — active.

When I walk through the marketplace, I see shapes where shadows should be still. A pony stands at a stall, perfectly motionless, but their shadow shifts, as if turning its head to look behind itself. Sometimes, the shadow leans when the pony does not. Sometimes, the shadow is taller 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 shapes clinging to the edges of buildings. 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 limbs. Not waving. Not reaching. Waiting. 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 want 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 forming 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 arriving. Respectfully, Ambient Waves