Luna’s night fell on Equestria as the weariness of Celestia’s day began to come on. All of the creatures and living things began to slowly unwind into their rest. The croaks of the frogs and chirps of the birds were replaced with the cheeps of the crickets as waxing moon cascaded over the Equestrian landscape, leaving it awash with a beautiful fluorescent blanket of light, creating a sharp contrast to the star-dotted black skies above.
From Las Pegasus to Cloudsdale, ponies trotted and floated back to their homes, their shadows dancing as though it was their time to be alive. Nothing short of beautiful could describe the effect of Luna’s night on the land, especially on the town of Ponyville.
Ponyville, for all its small size and seemingly ordinary plainness, was quite a comforting sight under the night sky. The ponies, by now, were all sound asleep in their humble abodes, missing out on relishing the glimmering views of twilight. All except for one particular colt. Down the street from the Ponyville Library stood a small, but unusual house. Not so unusual like the bakery down on Sugarcube Corner, but enough to grab somepony’s attention.
The house was thatched just like any other house, but the rest of the house was a combination of stone and wood, seemingly serving as a type of fortress to block out the rest of the world. Candlelight licked at the round windows, while shadows draped against the inner walls. If one looked closely enough, they might notice an occasional turn or fidget.
The owner of the silhouette was sitting on a small stool, hoof under his chin in deep thought, quietly observing…something. His horn was glowing a deep yellow, as was the brush he was levitating. His gray coat and black mane were both ruffled from hours of anxiety and lack of proper care, and his eyes were bloodshot as they continued to observe the piece in front of him.
“Come now, Cross Hatch, you can do this…what’s missing from this…?” the unicorn mumbled to himself. For most of the day, Cross Hatch had been sitting in front of the same canvas, progressing on his piece little by little, only stopping to eat and observe how the painting was shaping itself.
After what seemed like another eternity, the unicorn lowered his brush, the magic glow that coated it dissipating as it rested upon the oak of the easel. He sighed, weary of his inability to make strokes upon the canvas. “Agggh! It’s no use….Tartarus forbid I should even try to finish this piece!” grumbled the aspiring artist. It couldn’t be helped. Another day slipped through his fingers, leaving behind little sign that any improvement or progress had been made, and a clear trail of great disappointment. He tiredly stood up and began his sluggish trek to his bed.
Small tendrils of thoughts wafted in and out of his mind as each step fell upon each stair.
A deep voice told him, “This is the third day in a row…you hardly even made two strokes on the canvas…”
A lighter voice reassured him, “You must not try to rush creativity, Cross Hatch. You’re just beating yourself up for no reason. That and you need a bath….Do you have any idea what you smell like right now?”
At this, the colt lifted up one of his forelegs and took a whiff. The unpleasant odor was evident, as he scrunched his face in disgust and quickly lowered his foreleg back down. He made a mental note to bathe…eventually. As he reached the top of the flight, his tired eyes were greeted by a bedroom full of discarded books, brushes, scrap pieces of parchment, and pencils.
Cross Hatch responded to the sight by simply dropping onto the bed and falling asleep promptly after…
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Celestia’s day slowly overtook Luna’s night as morning came, with birds singing to honor the coming of the new day and the clouds replacing the stars that glittered in the night. The peaceful quiet gave way to the hustle and bustle of the next day. Ponies were chattering excitedly about the newest of news, merchants trading their product for bits, all while certain fillies raised a commotion over how to get cutie marks.
Cross Hatch groggily awoke to the sound of the noise, and groaned disdainfully.
Like last night, he wasn’t particularly interested in joining the rest of Equestria in the throes of activity.
And like all of the nights before that, his time of rest had been dreamless, devoid of any hope for creativity to puncture through his depressive state. The unicorn dragged himself out of bed, recalling his mental note about his hygiene. He decided to start the day with a warm bath. At least…he would have were it not for the fact that somepony was now pounding at his door.
“All right, hold your horseshoes, I’m coming…Blasted-” Cross Hatch, still drowsy from sleep, had a slight misstep as he was descending the stairs…consequently leading him to go down the stairs in a less favorable fashion. The cacophony of painful noises could be heard for at least a few blocks around, and whoever was at the door momentarily stopped their knocking in response to the accident.
“Aaaagh…Tartarus-cursed luck…” The knocking picked up again immediately after Cross said that.
“All right! By all that’s blessed by the Sun, I’m coming!” Cross said, irritation seething through his mouth. After much stumbling, Cross finally made it to the door in one piece, and promptly threw the door open, revealing a young mare about his age in his doorway.
The mare in question was dark blue, with a yellow mane with green streaks in it. Her cutie mark was that of a small tong being hammered into a small piece of clay. Some ponies might joke that it meant that she was some sort of conspiracy theorist trying to chip away at the higher social caste in order to expose them for the pompous confetti filled foals they were, but that’s another story. Her talent was actually in sculpting, and her cutie mark reflected her great skill, as did her name.
“Oh…Good morning, Marble Chip,” Cross Hatch greeted the mare.