October was the month of orange squash-lings (not to be confused with the Oompa-Loompa’s of fiction) and even more orange days. Autumn was prevalent everywhere, and even the most ignorant of folk knew the difference between a fall leaf and a spring one. The sky now glowed not just with blue, but with yellows and reds; a ring of pink met the space between night and day.

Some people, however, not content with the view; some chose to complain about it. One of these “some people” happened to be Sunset Shimmer’s boyfriend.

“It’s not like I dislike fall,” he protested once Sunset asked why he was complaining about the season. “I just don’t like the yardwork that comes with it!”

“Soul, your lawn only has one tree,” she responded lightly.

“Yeah, but I also sometimes have to rake both my lawn and the neighbor’s lawn!”

“But you get paid, don’t you? And besides, I’m always willing to help out, if you call me.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” He rubbed the back of his head, abashed.

Sunset smiled, then squeezed his free hand with her own. “Hey, it’s okay. At the very least, the leaves won’t fight back.”

“You say that now, but you never know when they might.”

She shook her head and laughed. “Right, that’ll happen. Maybe when pigs fly.”

Soul gave her a deadpan look. “Sunny, we go to a school where magic can be conjured up through singing. I’m pretty certain that “pigs flying” isn’t too far off.”

Sunset giggled. “Well, write me a letter when you do see an airborne pig.”

“I’ll be sure to, with Artifex’s help. Right, Artifex?”

Both of their smiles remained for a second, before becoming strained. Soul called again, “Artifex? You’ll help me write that letter, right?”

Slowly, Sunset and Soul turned their heads towards their companion; only to find him no longer beside him.

“Wha—where did—”

Sunset continued turning, her voice trailing off, as her eyes centered on a loan figure a short distance behind them. He stood in his yellow jacket, sleeves pulled down, and he clutched a golden notebook in his hand. But the notebook wasn’t opened; in fact, it didn’t appear to be in any sort of use. The young man himself was as still as a statue, and were it not for his occasional blinking, Sunset figured that he might have been a strange statue. The wind swept through his icy-blue hair, but he remained still, frozen.

She followed his gaze, which was directed diagonally downwards. She couldn’t make out its exact details, but it was clear that it was small, and that it piqued his interest—perhaps enormously, or at least enough to pull him away from their walk.

“Um, is he okay?” Soul asked.

“I’m not sure… come on.”

As they approached, the young man still made no motion that he heard that coming. Once they were close enough, Sunset could see his eyes had narrowed, honing in on the object. She looked down. At his feet was a small, white flower; it was an odd sight to behold in a sea of yellow-green with surrounding boats of darkening orange. Vaguely, Sunset recalled from her science classes that this was a galanthus; a snowdrop flower. She immediately recognized the significance.

“It’s very pretty,” she said, and her voice seemed to draw Artifex from his reprieve.

“Yes, it is,” he replied, but his voice came out low and mumbled, as if he was distracted. Sunset supposed that much was right.

“Hey, sorry for leaving you behind back there,” she said. “We thought you were still with us! Soul and I were just talking about autumn and—”

Abruptly, Artifex cut her off. “It’s fine, Sunset.” He raised his head, breath escaping through thin lips. “We’d better get going; don’t want to be late for class.”

Sunset blinked, but nodded. Artifex walked past her, and she and Soul followed as close as they could.

Soul ended up closer to Artifex, and Sunset saw him lean him. “You okay, Artifex?”

A low moan barely erupted behind sealed lips; but the point was made. This was not a person in the mood for conversation. Soul nodded sagely, backing off, allowing Sunset to move up.

As they walked, she reflected how frequent the display was becoming. Artifex appeared more distracted than ever. He lagged behind, not just because of his limp, but because his attention was always constantly diverted. The smallest objects seemed to fascinate him, even though he never had previously appeared to be fascinated by them before.

Sunset knew Artifex was, to put it lightly, a complicated individual. She never doubted that he still was sorting through some personal issues. While she couldn’t say she understood his pain, she at the very least understood the process. The memory of the Fall Formal came to mind, as did her fight for redemption following it. She couldn’t blame Artifex for regressing inward; but, at the same time, her gut told her that something was seriously wrong. After all, Artifex had been lighter, happier; now he more resembled how he was when they first met.

Soul appeared to have read her mind, as he whispered to her, “He’s been like this for a while now. Any guesses as to why?”

She shook her head, whispering back, “I wish I had any. What about you?”

“None so far. Maybe it’s just been a bad few days for him.”

“Maybe…” Looking at the young man with a limp, she had a feeling it was more than that. “Well, not much we can do other than be there for him when he needs it. Even if he doesn’t know he needs anything.”

Soul nodded his agreement. They continued walking. None of them felt particularly keen on restarting a conversation.

Towards the end of the walk, when they were nearing the school, Sunset caught a glimpse out of the corner of her eye of something different in Artifex.

His lips, previously sealed, parted slightly, revealing clenched teeth. He didn’t appear intent on stopping or slowing any time soon; if anything, he appeared to be speeding up. As his pace quickened, he moved away from Sunset’s gaze, and the glance was lost once again.

But it remained in her memory, and she frowned. Was it the sight of the school that set him on edge? Or something else?

Suddenly the doors had approached, and they swung open without much care for who was closer, nearly hitting Sunset. She narrowly dodged it; but Soul was not so lucky. As she turned back to comfort him, Artifex continued ahead; and the questions followed.

Author's Notes:

It's been a rough two weeks, but seemingly--and hopefully--my life has gotten back on track.

You may be wondering why this chapter takes place leaps after the previous one, in terms of textual continuity. The reasoning for this is simple: detailing every day is simply too hard and tedious and slow, and would yield nothing for me or for the reader beyond simple exposition (exposition which I intend to supply whenever there is a large gap between day continuities). Additionally, I find it is better to start right where the conflict may be brewing first, rather than give repetitious and overall meaningless chapters that don't capture what I need to say.

Next chapter will be coming soon; I promise.