Fairlight - To the Edge of Midnight

by Bluespectre

Chapter Two - In the Rose Garden

CHAPTER TWO

IN THE ROSE GARDEN

Every school foal knows the story of the three tribes, albeit the now sanitised and altogether more idealistic version of the truth of that most terrible chapter of Equestrian history. The three tribes of the gods are those familiar to all, each of them comprising of one unique element of the race we know as alicorns: pegasi, unicorns and earth ponies. The first of these tribes was gifted with the wondrous power of flight, the second the godly gift of magic, and the third with the ability to change the very earth beneath our hooves as well as all born thereof. Of all the tribes, it is that of the earth pony which fascinates me the most. Their magic, scoffed at by many now as ‘old folk wisdom’ or dismissed as mere superstition, is quite arguably the most wondrous of all. It is they who are able to feel as well as to manipulate the link that binds the living world to the very fabric of the universe, bringing life where once there was only barren wasteland. It has forever been a wonderment to me how so few of them now remember the incredible achievements of their forebears, seeing themselves as little more than ponies who are bound to walk upon the earth, bereft of the joys of flight or the magical craft of the unicorns. Sadly, many see them as pitiable, dumb creatures of little note with no more value to society than that of mere manual workers. It is therefore highly regrettable that this poisonous attitude has seeped down over the generations to take root within the very community once so lauded by the gods themselves. Indeed, I have noted on many occasions how earth ponies actively shun any suggestion of their heritage completely, and those who still cling to the ‘old ways’ are ostracized by their fellows as being little more than foolish dreamers, helpless idealists, or worse, ‘supremacists’. In a world where true harmony between the three tribes is still a long way from being achieved, if it ever truly can be, any suggestion of earth ponies being the ‘one true race of Equestria’ as some scholars of old have suggested, is viewed as anathema to the vision of the princess. It is with no small amount of relief then that I have found that in some far flung villages where the ‘new model of thought’ has yet to infect, that there are those who still remember and even practice the ways of old. It is my earnest hope that I will be able to visit these last bastions of the old magics to document and record them for posterity save they vanish from the memories of equestrians for all time. Perhaps one day, when I am long gone from this world, there will be somepony who will read these words and bring the spark of magic back to the tribe that even now seeks to distance itself from the gift given to them by the gods so long ago.

Extract from the diary of Star Swirl the Bearded.

********************

“Back with us I see.”

“Hmm?” I opened my eyes to an empty carriage and sat up in alarm. “Mea-? Oh...” I glanced over the side to take in the pair of yellow eyes looking up at me. Meadow was shaking her head.

“Have a nice sleep?”

I rubbed my eyes and yawned expansively, receiving a huff of disapproval from my wife’s father. “Not really,” I mumbled sleepily.

Apparently Apple Pop didn’t approve of ponies napping while he was talking to them. Honestly I had no idea what had come over me. I was such an active fellow normally, and it was unusual for me to just drop off the way I had. Doubtless the raised eyebrows on Meadow’s face echoed her father’s sentiments and only served to cement his already poor opinion of me even further - the miserable sod. I climbed down from the taxi making it sway and creak slightly, a habit of those things I’d never liked. Since coming to the herd I’d become a lot more conscious of movement than I had when I’d been alive. Suffering from vertigo was not something you wanted when you were able to able to fly, but like so much of the ‘old’ me, much of who I was had been left back there, rotting in a frozen tomb watched over by my Shadow. There was something almost poetic about that. And tragic. Maybe it was the motion of the taxi that had made me remember my nightmarish trip to the doctors and the subsequent tests I’d had inflicted upon me ever since. As a result of my ‘episode’ I’d been banned from drinking altogether, and Meadow now watched me like a hawk locking onto a small rodent. She hadn’t said much about the incident, and in truth like the coward I am, I hadn’t asked either. Ignorance was sometimes bliss indeed.

“Daddy!” The tiny grey pest zoomed up to me and slammed into my chest making me gasp in surprise “Simanum nuts!”

“Simanum?” I blinked away the last of the sleepiness as I took in where Sparrow was frantically waving. “Oh, you mean cinnamon nuts.” Sure enough, there outside the obscenely wide marble steps to the ‘Theatre Mistrale’ was a colourful red and white painted cart selling packets of temptingly sweet peanuts. I had to admit, they smelled amazing too. Beside the cart a purple stallion with three white socks and the most vivid red eyes I’d ever seen, stood tending a tiny rotating copper drum that looked for all the world like a tiny cement mixer.

“Daddy! Pleeaaassse?”

Oh, goddess! I wasn’t going to hear the end of this unless I got her some, was I? Thankfully, being an unemployed stallion of leisure, the herd still catered for us, and a convenient complimentary voucher for snacks came with the tickets. “Alright love,” I smiled, and approached the vendor. “One please.”

“You may as well get them for all of us, Fairlight.” Meadow lifted a hoof. “Make that five bags please, and five juice boxes too.”

“Hang on,” I replied, “I thought we’d brought our own- OW!” I hissed in pain as Meadow’s hoof cracked me right on the shin. “Bloody hell!” She shot me one of ‘those’ looks, a speciality of hers that made me shut up immediately.

“Thank you,” Meadow nodded to the vendor and, with one happy child muzzle deep in sweet coated nuts in tow, we walked back to where Merry and Pop where waiting. “I told you we’re not supposed to bring food inside!” Meadow hissed. “Why do you think it’s all stashed in our hoof bags?”

“I just thought you and Merry were hungry,” I muttered, instantly regretting my flippant remark.

“You’re not funny, Fairlight,” Meadow grumbled. “You think you are, but sometimes… Goddesses, you frustrate me. Let’s just go in, okay?”

I took a breath and felt a wash of cold spill over me. This was not good. I’d always been able to make Meadow laugh, even in the darkest days and when times were tough for us as a young couple starting out in the world. Putting a smile on her face always worked wonders and helped us both face our troubles together. As in love as we were, there was nothing we couldn’t overcome. But lately… I wasn’t so sure. Was it just me? Had I changed so much that she was cooling towards me? This morning had been like old times, the two of us playing and fooling around together just as we had when we’d first met. A few hours later, and now this. I guess time changes ponies, and perhaps, perhaps it really had changed me too. I’d noticed how Meadow’s mood swings were becoming increasingly more frequent of late, and a lot more noticeable too, so perhaps I wasn’t the only one. Damn it all, what a mess! I’d have to pull myself together and stop moping around before I caused any more damage than I had already.

Inside the theatre the entrance hall was just as large as the outside suggested, but lost in my own world of self pity I’d wandered in without even realising it. Now, fully submerged in this extraordinary monument to the arts, a positive cavalcade of sounds, light and colour assailed me in full force. It was my first visit here and, I have to say, it was nothing short of breath taking. White marble columns draped in purple, gold and silver embroidery disappeared up into the equally beautiful ceiling which was itself decorated in paintings from Equestrian mythology. Or not. In fact I’d been discovering that a lot of what I had originally assumed were no more than entertaining stories of swords and sorcery were more often than not based in actual historical fact. Even if those ‘facts’ had been distorted to the point where they bore little resemblance to the reality of what had actually happened. Some of those self same ponies from the history books were walking around the herd, with many of them considered ‘celebrities’ by the more everyday citizenry. One in particular sprang to mind: Star Swirl the Bearded. He was one pony I’d had far more interaction with than was healthy in my opinion, and the last meeting I’d had with him was something that I wanted to put to the back of my mind to put it mildly. I’d been quite successful at that too, and the old fart hadn’t featured much in my ruminations since that fateful day I’d met him and the enigmatic Maroc in the hotel room near the entrance to the herd. No news was good news so far as I was concerned, and it had been what, several months now? I suppose I should have said something to Meadow about it, but… well, how could I? I didn’t even understand a lot of what he had been blabbering on about as it was, and I’d only make myself look like an idiot in front of her. Besides, the last thing I needed was to cause her even more unwarranted stress than I had already. With the difficulties I’d been experiencing in adjusting to the herd there was quite enough of that as it was, thank you very much. Today’s outing however was supposed to be a way to help me unwind, helping both myself and Meadow to relax. Not that bringing Meringue and Apple Pop along was going to help in that regard of course, but the thought was there. I admit I did have a passing interest in the play for today too, although musicals were something that usually made my flesh creep. Why in the name of the gods did they have to ruin a perfectly good story by bursting into song that involved excessively voluminous females rolling around the stage bawling in languages nopony had spoken for a thousand years? At least today I had been assured it was in Equestrian, and also ‘suitable for youngsters’ too no less. Now that was something I had reservations about. Whoever had written the brochure quite obviously didn’t have foals, any knowledge of them, or was simply being hopelessly optimistic. And speaking of optimism, I’d originally thought that having Sparrow’s grandparents over was to babysit her whilst Meadow and I enjoyed a little together time at the theatre. No such luck there then! Whether by design or sheer bloody mindedness, the two in laws were coming along with us, and the blissfully unsuspecting Sparrow too. I was under no illusions; having a small hyperactive pegasus watching a musical they couldn’t understand was potentially going to lead to several hours of boredom for the poor little thing. And I knew all too well how bored foals simply demanded others become involved in their desire to be anywhere other than stuck in a seat for what would, for Sparrow at least, feel like an eternity. I had a bad feeling about this.

In short order we were directed to one of the large marble archways that lead down to near the front, but mercifully, not too near the front. I could remember last Hearthswarming when I’d taken sparrow to the pantomime. It had taken days to get the last of that wallpaper paste out of my mane! Of course, Sparrow had loved every moment of it, but for her poor beleaguered father it had been an absolute bloody nightmare of dread every time one of the actors had come to edge of the stage. Naturally, parents of foals were the primary target for the overly colourful and extravagant swine, and Sparrow had nearly been sick laughing as I was drenched from head to hoof. I only had myself to blame though, the words ‘audience participation’ should have been warning enough to any parent thinking of sitting up near the front.

“Here we are. Row G, Seats thirty six to forty.” Meringue nodded to me, “You go in first, Fairlight, an’ Sparrow can sit ‘tween you an’ ‘er mum.”

I bit back a reply. As a rule I much preferred an aisle seat, and being stuffed several seats away from this path to freedom would mean there was little chance of escape for a sneaky break in the loo when I got bored. I’ll bet the old buggers knew that too. Apple Pop had barely said two words to me since we’d got out of the taxi, not that this was a particularly unusual state of affairs so far as the miserable sod was concerned, but between him and Meadow’s moodiness I was beginning to wish I’d stayed at home. Not that I had much say in the matter anyway. Worse still, with Sparrow sat between us I’d been denied any possibility of cosying up to her to try to make amends. Damn it, why did I keep letting myself get into these fixes?! Thankfully the fold-down seat was pleasantly comfortable, the red velvet cover well cleaned and equally well padded ready for even the most delicate of pony posteriors to grace. I brushed my tail to one side and settled in for a healthy barrage of ‘cultural enrichment’ as the brochure proudly proclaimed, whilst around me the hum of ponies taking their seats gradually began to settle to a more tolerable level. I presumed that the groaning and squeaking sounds coming from somewhere near the front row was the musicians tuning their instruments. Either that or some poor sod was being tortured horribly. I leaned across the child who was busy shovelling as much popcorn into her mouth as she could manage.

“Love? Are you okay?”

“Mmm.” Meadow gave me a half smile. “Yeah.”

“I’m sorry if I’ve made you unhappy,” I said, trying to keep my voice low. “I really am trying my best at the classes. Honestly.”

Meadow closed her eyes and nodded, “I know.”

Goddesses, she looked so sad my heart ached in my chest making me nearly choke on my words. “Meadow, I want us to be happy here, together, the three of us. I know things have been difficult, and it’s probably my-” A bout of coughing and choking sounds erupted between us and I was showered with half chewed popcorn. Sparrow thrashed as her mother grabbed the flailing foal, plucking the masses of popcorn from her mouth and checking her airways.

Meadow’s horn glowed, bathing her face in a blue light. “It’s alright Sparrow, it’s alright. Shhh, come on now. Here, have a drink and mummy will make it all better, okay?” Sparrow, tears welling in her eyes, merely nodded and submitted to a hankie wiped across the snot and popcorn covered muzzle.

“Is she alroit?” Meringue was peering at Sparrow with motherly concern.

Meadow nodded. “She was just being greedy and trying to eat too much at once, that’s all.” She shook her head in dismay. “Honestly, Sparrow, how many times have I told you to chew your food first?”

“You shouldn’t have given her something she could choke on, Meadow.” Apple Pop’s disapproving face made an unwelcome appearance. “Do you know how many ponies I found like that? Do you have any idea how many parents I had to speak to and explain how their loved one wouldn’t be coming home because they’d choked to death on-”

“-Please, dear, don’t talk shop tonoit, eh?” Meringue carefully and, it has to be said, tactfully manoeuvred her huffing husband back into his seat, but not before shooting me a knowing glance.

Talking shop, eh? More like being a know-it-all pain in the hocks more like! Still, I suppose he had a point. There had been a rash of instances in Manehattan of ponies choking following the opening of a new hotdog restaurant on the corner of fifth and eighth street called ‘Bangers’ if memory served correctly. Or something like that, I wasn’t quite sure. Damn it, had my memory always been this bad? Still, I could remember it had something to do with what was in the hotdogs. What the hell was it now? I can remember having a laugh about it back at the watch house, but Meadow who had been working at the hospital at the time of course, was far from amused. She was the poor bugger who’d tried to resuscitate the guy who’d swallowed it. Well, almost swallowed it. What the hell was it?! It was starting to bother me and I decided to ask Meadow to put the niggling memory to bed once and for all, but she beat me to the punch.

“I said we shouldn’t be giving her popcorn, Fairlight.” Meadow huffed quietly, trying to placate the now mercifully quieter but clearly still upset Sparrow. Thankfully the small creature had been placated by a cardboard tub of ice cream which she was busily stuffing down her throat almost as fast as she had the popcorn. Fortunately mummy was near to hoof to make sure we didn’t endure any more ‘incidents’. I nodded sagely and stroked Sparrow’s mane. She looked up at me and smiled.

“No more popcorn,” I said quietly, tapping her on the muzzle. Saprrow’s wings fluttered happily in reply.

“It’s not just the popcorn,” Meadow muttered. “You can’t keep giving in to her all the time, Fairlight. She’s got you well and truly wrapped around her hoof, and one day it’ll come back to haunt you, you wait and see. If you’re not careful she’ll become a right little madam who always wants her own way. And you’ll give in to her, just like you always do.”

“I don’t ‘always’ give in to her,” I protested. “Besides, I’ve barely been dead five bloody minutes so you can’t blame me for doting on my own daughter, can you? Give me a break, Meadow!”

Meadow snorted, glancing around her quickly. “Will you stop that swearing! Ponies are listening!”

“I am bloody well not swearing!” I snapped back.

“There you go again!” Meadow’s eyes narrowed as she leaned towards me, propriety suddenly ignored. “And in case you had forgotten, she isn’t ‘your’ daughter, she’s ‘our’ daughter, remember?” The green mare’s ears flattened menacingly, her tone of voice lowering an octave. “You’ve completely forgotten haven’t you?”

I could feel my ears begin to burn as I became acutely aware of others around me going quiet, probably so they could listen in to our not-so-hushed conversation. Unfortunately, like one of those parties where a couple have a row in the corner of the room, any efforts to stifle the argument only served to draw all the more attention to it. In this case I may as well have been blowing an air horn and waving a placard announcing our mid-theatre drama to the whole blasted audience.

“Forgotten what?” I asked with a toss of my mane.

Meadow’s expression darkened all the more. “You have to be kidding me...”

“Am I?” My temper unexpectedly flared white hot, making my legs tingle like tiny pinpricks of electricity were running up and down them. It was then I realised with horrible certainty that I was losing my grip on my calm centre and was heading inexorably to a full on public row with my wife. Oh goddesses, and in front of her parents too… “How am I supposed to remember everything, Meadow?” I snapped. I was all but snarling now through gritted teeth. “Every day is the bloody same! It’s all so simply perfect here, isn’t it? Perfect sunshine, perfect blue skies, even perfect bloody clouds. It’s all absolutely spiffing! Simply spiffing!” I squeezed my eyes shut, trying in vain to keep my bubbling temper under control. “How in the name of all the gods am I supposed to remember everything? No, not ‘everything’, how about ‘any’ thing? I can barely even remember my own sodding name!”

“You could have remembered this, Fairlight,” Meadow said quietly. “I didn’t think it was too much to ask.”

“Remember what?” Suddenly a mare behind me muttered something on the edge of my hearing and I span round angrily. “Why don’t you mind your own bucking business, madam!”

“Well!” The mare sniffed imperiously and I turned back to my wife.

“It’s our wedding anniversary.”

“How-” The words died in my throat. My heart stopped beating. My blood froze in my veins.

“It’s been on the calendar in the kitchen for months.”

Oh, no. My eyes flicked past Meadow to the stone like expression on Apple Pop and Meringue who were pointedly staring straight ahead like a couple of statues. It was then I realised the full gravity of my foolishness. They obviously knew. Around me the theatre descended into deathly silence, the lights dimming and the music starting up as Meadow turned away from me.

“Daddy? When’s the film going to start?”

I didn’t look down, only continuing to stare gormlessly at the side of Meadow’s face like some dull witted imbecile. “It’s not a film, love,” I whispered numbly.

“Huh?” Sparrow peered at me and shrugged, licking her muzzle. “I like ice cream. Can I have another one, daddy?”

“Later,” I replied quietly. “Later, love.”

The curtain fell upon my heart as surely as the heavy stage curtain rose in defiance of my broken soul. Music slowly began to swell, the lights illuminating the actors of another play treading the boards before us, their voices rolling out across the darkened audience like waves upon the shore. Time flowed around me, distracting me, drawing me inexorably into the unfolding story. It was about a hunter, Thrift Tail, a griffin caught in the middle of the war of the three tribes. I didn’t know much about that story other than the version we’d been taught as foals, and some of the characters in this one certainly didn’t bear any resemblance to the ones I could remember. Chancellor ‘Pudding Head’ for example, had somehow been transformed into Chancellor ‘Broad Elm’ apparently, whereas others I recognised such as Princess Platinum and Clover the Clever remained the same. I’ll admit it was a little confusing as, in the story so far, there had been no mention of Princess Celestia or Princess Luna whatsoever, and Star Swirl’s character had only made a cameo appearance too. Hadn’t the conflict between the tribes been earlier than the war with the Legion? It had to have been, and so far I could tell, Star Swirl had been involved in both incidents hadn’t he? If so, then how come there had been no mention of Clover the Clever since the war of the tribes if he truly was Star Swirl’s apprentice? Now that I thought about it, how much time had passed between the war of the three tribes and the war with Nightmare Moon? Good gods, just how old was Star Swirl?! Maybe the play would answer these questions for me. I settled back, listening to the songs, trying my best to take it all in...

“...for her beak doth shine as the twinkling of the northern star twixt the light of the dying sun and the rising of the goddess’s moon in all her glorious radiance. For one night with her I would gladly offer up my soul to the keeper of the gate.”

“Speak not such words, my liege. For fear thy sentiments be true and the keeper doth hear thy hearts deepest desire.”

“Can I have more ice cream?”

“I care not! Temptress! Oh, sweet, sweet summoner of darkest fantasy, call no more upon my inner demons! For I may fall willingly before thy gentlest hooves...”

“Hark! A carriage approaches. See the golden falcons upon its elegant design? Methinks a lady be ensconced within those lush trappings of lordliness.”

“Listen! Listen to her words! Oh, such words as these do pull upon the heart to pierce it as cupids arrow never could. Listen! Listen...”

“Daddy? I want more strawberry ice cream.”

Oh, goddesses help me. The sharp notes of the childish voice rang out clear and crisp in the theatre, reaching every ear as though amplified a thousand-fold. Little yellow eyes looked up expectantly at mine, the forlorn empty cardboard pot still held in her tiny hooves. I could feel the intake of breath, the moment of silence as the words sank in. And then the storm hit. Everypony, almost without exception, burst out laughing sending the whole theatre into uproar. I closed my eyes and cursed under my breath. Goddesses, I couldn’t bear to look at Meadow who, I had no doubt, probably blamed me for making us the centre of attention instead of the beleaguered actors that were staring at us just as much as their patrons. I gave myself a shake, my words lost in the roar of laughter.

“Come on love, let’s go and get you some.”

Meadow had her head in hooves as I pushed past, Sparrow sitting on my back loving every moment of the attention and completely oblivious of her parents humiliation. I didn’t make eye contact with Apple Pop or Meringue either. Instead I reached the aisle and had to force myself not to launch into a full on gallop to the stairs and the sanctuary of the lobby. Behind me the laughter gradually died away, lost in the music the orchestra had started up. Probably to try and distract them from the antics of the father and daughter comedy act that had spontaneously erupted in their midst. Celestia’s hocks, why was I feeling so guilty about all of this?! The instigator and perpetrator of the very reason my cheeks and ears were glowing bright red was sitting on top of me, doubtless happily anticipating another pot of that blasted ice cream! Goddess, what a life…

I reached the kiosk in the now mostly abandoned lobby area. Whereas before we’d just been one more face in the crowd, with the play in full swing the two of us stuck out like a sore hoof. It wasn’t to be unexpected of course, all the sensible ponies were either sitting down to enjoy the performance or outside doing something more productive. Speaking of productive, the two mares working here carried on chatting between themselves blissfully ignorant of their latest customers. I couldn’t blame them, they were probably expecting an hour or so of peace before the intermission brought the ravenous hordes back in for some more of their hideously overpriced treats.

I rapped on the counter top. “Excuse me?”

“...and then I said to Flow, you really must get that mane permed at Tops and Trots. Eli who works there always has the most amazing hooficure and-”

“Ahem… excuse me?”

“Eh? Oh!” The yellow coated mare nearest to us stopped mid-sentence and turned to face us.
“Can I help you?”

“Yes, please.” I jerked my head towards the tiny pest on my back. “One strawberry ice cream please.”

“Oh, what a darling!” the mare announced suddenly, my order already completely forgotten. “What’s your name sweetie?”

“I’m Sparrow!” the voice shrieked in my ear. “I can fly! Look!”

“Don’t you dare!” I snapped quickly. The serving mare shot me a look that would have had any passers by running for the nearest watch pony. “Please,” I said in what I hoped was a soothing tone of voice, “Just a strawberry ice cream?”

“Small, medium or large?” the mare’s friend called over helpfully.

Sparrow answered before I could get a word out. “Large!”

Well, large it was. Placated, the yellow coated mare, also a pegasus, fussed around Sparrow, cooing over her wings. “So strong!” she exclaimed, “and at such a young age too. We don’t have many foals in the herd, and just look at you!”

It was then I noticed my back had become decidedly lighter. I closed my eyes and sighed; she’d done it, hadn’t she… My nose twitched as my brain shut out the sound of wings and something zooming past my mane. Cheese? And something… spicy… “What is that?” I thought aloud.

“Oh, the nachos?” The mare serving the ice cream finished adding the final touches to our order and pointed towards a metal serving tray. Moving closer, the smell pulled at me enticingly.

“What are they?” I asked curiously.

The pastel pink coloured mare smiled, “You’ve never had them before?” I shook my head. “They’re made from corn,” she explained, “Pressed into triangles, oven baked, and served with a spicy cheese dip.” She lifted the shining polished steel lid, “See?” I walked closer and had a look inside. The bubbling mass of cheesy goodness tingled and played with my senses like nothing I’d ever experienced before. It was certainly a far cry from what you might call ‘proper’ food of course, but right then for some unknown reason known only to gods of convenience foods, it was like ambrosia. “Would you like some?” She took one in her magic and floated it into the vat of sauce before presenting it before me. Gingerly I took hold of it in my own magic and inhaled. Spicy heat, chillies and pepper, all married up with that overarching cheesiness… I closed my eyes and took a bite.

“Mmm...” I groaned openly, sinking to my haunches as the wonderful flavour burst over my tastebuds like fireworks. The crunchiness, the sauciness… oh, gods, this was amazing! I had to have more…

“Would you like a portion?” the pink mare asked.

I nodded enthusiastically. “Yes. A large one, please.” If the child was having a large ice cream, then I’m damned sure dad could have one too. In short order, I had a cardboard tray for both my steaming carton of nachos and what looked like a small bucket of strawberry ice cream. Thanking the two mares I turned to leave, and paused. A thought popped into my mind almost as quickly as Sparrow had devoured the previous load of ice cream. “Excuse me, did you mention a place a pony could get her hooves done?”

“Oh, Tops and Trots?” The yellow mare nodded to her friend. “It’s the best place around. Is it for you or a lady friend?”

“My wife,” I replied. “It’s for our wedding anniversary.”

“That’s really thoughtful of you!” the pink mare smiled, and produced a card from her striped red and white apron. “Here. Eli is a friend of ours, and always happy to meet new customers. Tell him Popcorn and Marsh sent you and he’ll give you a discount.”

“Is it nearby?” I asked hopefully.

The yellow mare lifted a hoof, pointing out of the door. “He’s just along the main street. Turn right out of here, then its the second road on the left beside the post office.”

“Do I need an appointment?”

Marsh shook her head. “Not today I shouldn’t have thought. When there’s a production on the place is deserted.”

A wave of relief washed through me and I pocketed the card. “Thank you. This means a lot.”

Popcorn chuckled. “Best if you get back before your nachos go cold then.”

“Or your ice cream melts,” Marsh chipped in helpfully. “Don’t want to keep the other half waiting.”

“Ha! Yeah, you’ll be in even more trouble then!” Popcorn laughed at my expression of befuddlement, but I still nodded my thanks to them before heading back into the darkened theatre.

*********************

I reached the first landing and met the red and gold uniformed stallion by the double doors. His clothes were a reflection of the sheer opulence of the theatre, with near acres of lace and braid that miraculously gave the impression of being tasteful yet still bold. I was surprised he wasn’t wearing chandelier earrings too. He nodded to me politely, and after showing him my ticket I was lead back by dimmed torchlight to the happy row of charming characters that passed, somehow, as my family. Legs shifted out of the way as I pushed past, apologising in hushed tones to the disgruntled ponies annoyed by my interruption. Finally, the last hurdle came into view – Meadow. I said nothing, but plonked the little pest between us, ice cream and all, and settled down to watch the rest of the play.

“Where have you been? I was worried sick!” Meadow’s voice was the barest whisper.

“Ice cream. It’ll keep her quiet,” I whispered back.

“Well, you can clean the sick up later,” Meadow replied snippily. “You know she gets cart sick.”

I rolled my eyes. “No she doesn’t, it was only that once when she’d-”

A tap on the seat from behind made Meadow look round. “SHHH!” A quick glower later, the two of us were staring back at the stage, and as for myself, trying to pick up where I left off...

“Knave! You dare to trample upon your king’s heart? Thy murderous intentions lie revealed before the light of the goddess, and for that, thy life be forfeit!”

“She be no snack for any noble nor commoner to feast upon, my lord. My betrothed hath my heart with her before thy eyes fell upon her beauty. For it is my love to whom I owe true allegiance, and no flags, nor banner, will take me from her side.”

“Traitorous cur! Half bred dog! The lady Head Wind will have thy heart no longer when it be lying in the dirt with thy lifeless carcase!”

Ah, now things were picking up a bit at last! It seems I hadn’t missed all that much after all, other than more bloody singing by the looks of things. When you cut through all the peculiar ‘olde worlde’ lingo, the story was one of love and betrayal in a time of war. It was the sort of story that was all too familiar. Apparently ‘Thrift Tail’, the griffin protagonist of the play, was in love with a female griffin named ‘Head Wind’. It seems that the griffin kingdom had aligned themselves, to some degree at least, with the pegasi. Other elements within the kingdom had joined the earth ponies and unicorns dependant, I guessed, upon what they thought they could gain from the spoils of victory. Thrift Tail, according to this story anyway, had found himself on the ‘wrong side of the fence’ when it came to alliances, and war had torn the two lovers apart. It was your typical tragic romance: Head Wind had found herself in the sights of the ‘king’ of the earth ponies. Interesting, as I had thought that old ‘Chancellor Pudding Head’, or ‘King Broad Elm’ as he was depicted in the play, was the leader of the earth tribe. I guess my history wasn’t so good after all! But anyway, history contends that ‘Pudding Head’ made friends with the other two tribes so I would imagine things didn’t turn out so well for poor old Thrift Tail. There may well be a little ‘artistic licence’ at play here of course, and come to think of it I hadn’t seen that many griffins since coming to the herd anyway. It seems they had their own ‘realm’, but there was little to no control over travel between theirs and the equestrian lands as the two races got along perfectly well. I think some may have questioned that sentiment of course, but I wasn’t one to argue. I’d certainly met my fair share of the fascinating creatures and they were damned handy when the battle was at its height too. On that subject I’d wondered about the distinct lack of wendigo here, but like the thestrals they were a lot more closely controlled and access from one realm to another was monitored by the vaguely named ‘Board of Elders’. I knew one of that pretentiously named lot already: Star Swirl, and the power he wielded was known far and wide, both this world and the other. The other… Dear Celestia, was this how I saw my life now? Or… what was I? Was I a spirit, a ghost wandering the afterlife, or was I an anomaly of some kind? I wasn’t sure. Star Swirl had been saying I still had some sort of connection to the mortal realm and that somepony was in danger. Or something like that anyway. Goddesses, It was so hard to remember! Memories would come and go with the same infuriating ability to slip by me like a bar of soap in the bath. A bath of grease. Luna’s ears, even my magic was playing up and was causing me some of the worst headaches I’d ever had if I used it too often. Typically I’d avoided mentioning this little fact to Meadow for obvious reasons: we both had enough on our plates without my adding more worry to that confused mess. My marriage was in trouble, I knew that deep down in my heart as much as I tried to deny it, but what could I do to fix things? I’d signed up to those stupid therapy sessions, I was having regular visits from the ever irritating ‘Sparky’, and yet so far there was bugger all improvement. I patted the ticket in my pocket and took some solace from the fact that I was in possession of ‘something’ that might, possibly, go some way to putting a smile back on Meadow’s face. Ha! Maybe I should go and petition the royal family; I sure could use some divine intervention around-

Hello. What was happening on stage?

I gave my eyes a quick rub and stuffed another hoofful of nachos into my mouth, focussing once again on the play. The song, thank the gods, had finally come to an end and our hero, Thrift Tail, had apparently abandoned the army to seek help in getting his girlfriend back. A large painted scene in the background had been rolled down by the stagehands, wind buffeting the actors and artificial ‘snow’ whipped around causing a few ruffled manes in the audience. I watched in silent fascination as Thrift Tail, hugging his cloak to his chest, forged on through the storming wastes…

“My Strength. My strength flees my body, the warmth sucked from my veins by this interminable cold. Oh gods of my father, why have you abandoned me? Is this some test of my courage? A test of my heart? Oh gods, if you are there, hear me now! Give me thine strength to embolden my fortitude in this most arduous of labours. Give me strength, I beseech thee!”

Thrift tail pushes on through the bitter wasteland, forging a path onward, ever further up the mountainside until suddenly, there amidst the driven snow, he sees a pillar. A marker. Made of a shining black stone and carved in the shape of a unicorn, a cloaked figure stands before it.

“Traveller, dost thou knowest where thou art?”

Thrift Tail, at the edge of his strength, collapses to his knees before the figure.

“I… I seek the one. He who from whom all others are born. The father of the snow. The white one.”

The cloaked figure stands tall, seemingly unaffected by the blizzard. He leans down to the weakened griffin.

“Thy wish has been fulfilled, traveller of the wastes. If thy strength be true, if thy heart be as strong in conviction as your mind be determined, lift thy head and follow.”

Darkness fills the stage, the actors vanishing into darkness, until in the light of burning torches the scene opens to one of blue and white ice carved walls. Creatures, cloaked and shrouded in mist, line the hallway that leads to the throne of winter’s heart. There, sat upon the throne of the north, sits the long hoped for saviour of Thrift Tail’s heart, no more than a voice from the fog of purest white.

“Who comes before the frozen throne?”

The voice echoes with the sound of a thousand whispers. Thrift Tail, battered and weary, stands on shaking legs to bow.

“I do. I am Thrift Tail of the clan Cloud Tail, and I come to your majesty’s home to beg favour.”

The mist wreathed voice laughs.

“Truly? Thy heart must be bold indeed to brave the treacherous slopes of our home to ask so brazenly before us.”

Thrift Tail rises to his paws and claws, raising his head high.

“Mine heart is brave it is true, your majesty, yet it aches with the bitter sting of treachery. My love has been stolen by the cruel king of the earth ponies, the one known as Broad Elm.”

Slowly, the fog begins to shift and blend, coalescing into a being that is as white as the snows upon the mountain tops, his mane and tail as golden as the sun, his eyes a bright emerald green.

“We know of this pony.”

The figure descends the steps slowly until he stands before the griffin.

“Thou wishes us to bring thy love to thee? Thou art willing to pay the price of such a deed?”

The griffin bows.

“As surely as my heart beats within my chest, your majesty.”

Silence falls as the figure rears, sending out a howl that freezes the blood. Snow and fog fill the throne room as the cloaked figures throw back their cowls to reveal creatures of purest white with eyes as blue as spirit fire.

“Thy heartfelt wish will be fulfilled, child of the kingdom. For such small a need will the tribe of the north seek war, for it is our most blessed nature to bring down the icy wrath of winter to those bound to the soil below.”

The white unicorn’s horn flares blue, reflecting off the slick walls of the throne room.

“Oh brothers, mine own sisters, this creature brings to our halls a request for us to assist in finding his beloved. Will we sit idly by whilst heartless cruelty is given reign? Or shall we take up this helpless creature’s plea and take to the skies once more to smite the creatures that have persecuted us all these ages?”

A howl rises up from the white ones, sending a shiver into Thrift Tail’s very being. The white unicorn walks nearer, his eyes changing from green and, to the griffin’s wide eyed horror, a bright burning blue.

“Mine children shall bring thy beloved to thee, child of the kingdom. The price shall be paid.”

The unicorn-like creature smiles, a smile of teeth as translucent as water and as sharp as a razor’s edge.

“The wendigo are going war!”

The curtain slowly begins to fall as the lights dim. The theatre is filled with the rush of bitter wind and the howl of the tribe of the north. The wendigo. His people. His brothers and sisters…

“Fairlight?”

They are calling to him. Calling him home… Home...

“Fairlight, for the goddesses sake, wake up!”

I opened my eyes and gasped audibly. “Gods above! What… Meadow? Oh hell, my bloody head!” I couldn’t hide it this time. A pain like somepony ramming a red hot poker through my skull had me shoving my head into the back of the seat in front of me. Tears poured from my eyes, each drop as hot as molten lead and burning into my flesh. Every nerve within my body was alive with searing agony, my stomach bubbling away like some evil witches cauldron.

Meadow’s hooves rubbed my back. “Fairlight, what’s wrong? You look terrible! We have to get you to a doctor and-”

“No!” I gasped, forcing myself out of the seat, “I… I just need the toilet.”

“The toilet?”

“Yeah...” I breathed. “Badly.”

Meadow looked at me skeptically. “I don’t think...” And then she saw the nachos. Or what was left of them, anyway. Her scowl returned. “Oh, goddesses. Was that corn? It was, wasn’t it!”

I tried a weak nod. “I think… I think so. I don’t...”

“Fairlight! How many times?!” Meadow’s voice dropped to her now more familiar one of angry disappointment. “The doctor said you had an allergy, didn’t he? Why don’t you ever listen?!” She huffed and turned to her mother. “Mum, can you look after Sparrow while I get this idiot to the toilet, please?” Whatever Meringue’s reply was, it was lost on me as I tried to force my shaking legs to move. I didn’t know about corn, but something was definitely wrong with me alright. So much for the bloody afterlife! How can a spirit, ghost, or whatever the hell I was, have a corn allergy when they’re dead? Bloody quacks, they were just as useless here as they were there. Only here at least they couldn’t kill you. They just gave you duff dietary advice.

“I wondered what you were eating,” Meadow continued. “Oh, Fairlight, there’s cheese all over you! We’ll have to get you cleaned up and… oh, never mind!” Ever the nurse, the angry mare helped me down the stairs to the bathroom despite her exasperation – and into the inevitable intermission queue. “No good. It’ll have to be the ladies...”

“I’m not going into the bloody mare’s toilets!” I managed. I attempted to push away, my mind locking onto the possibility of a convenient side street to do the dreaded deed. But, as expected, nurse Meadow was having none of it.

“Belt up, you don’t have much choice do you?” Meadow snorted. “Why don’t we-”

“Are you alright?” A familiar voice in my ear nearly made my knees buckle. “Hey, is he okay?”

Meadow nodded. “He’s got a bad tummy. Do you have a staff bathroom he could use?”

“It’s not meant for customers, but… okay, since it’s an emergency.”

Apparently it was too. In my tear filled haze, I managed to catch a glimpse of a red and white apron. Popcorn, no less. Gods bless her, and gods bless the staff bathroom. All of a sudden my legs went completely and my body followed, collapsing onto the cold tiles of the floor. Meadow was there in a trice using a combination of her magic and surprising strength to haul me into a sitting position. As much as it was embarrassing, even though she was my wife I was relieved beyond words to be out of sight of the public who no doubt were wondering what, and more specifically ‘how’, a pony could be taken ill like this. Goddesses in their blasted heaven, I must be cursed. Why the hell was this happening to me? Surely it couldn’t be nachos, right? I mean, I’d had a decent sized portion sure, but this? My stomach growled once more and then emptied itself in what reminded me of the explosion that had sent me to the herd in the first place. No external detonation this time however, this one I felt through ever muscle and bone in my body. Water shot up from the bowl soaking my fur as the unholy furore continued unabated. My head howled in white hot agony in sympathy with my bowls and I broke out in a sweat that poured down my face and dripped from my muzzle. Beside me, Meadow stroked my foreleg telling me everything would be alright, that this, whatever it was, would pass. But even in the mind reeling state I was in I could tell she was afraid. This shouldn’t be happening, not here, not in the land of sunshine and rainbows where souls knew only peace and tranquillity. ‘Should know’, I amended mentally.

There was a knock on the door.

“Hey, everything alright in there? Should we get a doctor?”

Meadow’s voice cracked as she shouted her reply, “Yes!”

I don’t know how long I was in there: minutes, hours, I couldn’t say for sure. Eventually, mercifully, the pain began to subside, and even the nausea inducing spinning gave way to let in the dreadful fatigue that was vying for attention. My muscles, normally toned and strong, now felt about as strong as a damp sponge, and it took every ounce of strength I could muster to stand without pitching muzzle first into Meadow.

The green mare put her forelegs around me.

“Come on, we have to get you to somepony and have you looked at.”

“No...” I took a hesitant breath. “No, I just… I just want to go home.” But did I? Home… It was a word that right then didn’t seem to include the chocolate box cottage with its quaint thatched roof, the white painted walls, and the equally smart green door. It didn’t include, goddess forgive me, even my wife or daughter. All I wanted right then, my dragging, cloying need, was to get out of there and find something cold. Something cooling. I knew, somewhere deep inside my soul, that this place, this land, would never accept one as tainted as I. I was a freak of nature, a monster that had been forged in the blue fires of the Wither World. I was out of time, in more ways than one. Gentle hooves manoeuvred me to the bathroom door and out to the lobby where most of the patrons had now left.

“Is there a doctor nearby?” Meadow asked hopefully.

Popcorn nodded. “We sent somepony to find him but he’s out apparently. There’s another one who lives on the road that leads out of town, but nopony seems to know exactly where he lives. A couple of the lads are checking but they’ve not come back yet.”

Wonderful. Even in the next life things just kept on going wrong for me, didn’t they? Goddesses, if it wasn’t so tragic I’d be laughing right now. Meadow guided me to a chair and the girls brought out a bucket of water and cloths, setting about wiping me down like some helpless invalid. Not that I was exactly in much position to argue of course, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to take on three mares, especially ones who were putting themselves out of their way to help me as they were. Besides, something told me that this was way outside their job description. In their efforts to cool me down, the girls rushed around frantically grabbing bags of ice and dumping them around me until I was near buried under a sea of towels and dripping water. Blissfully the huge front doors stood open and a gust of fresh air hit me like a bucket of ice water. It was wonderful. I must have been running a fever and I could hear Meadow’s voice issuing instructions to the staff. And then… she was talking to somepony else, somepony who sounded familiar. Damn it, why couldn’t I think straight?! I blinked and felt the sharp sting of sweat enter my eye. As a brushed it away, I looked up right into the eyes of…

“Bob?”

“Who?” Meadow stared at the newcomer.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I mean Corn Bread.” The pegasus treated Meadow to a deep bow. “May I introduce myself my lady, my name is Booster. You can call me Derek if you like, I answer to both equally.”

Meadow’s eyes narrowed. “I’m sorry, I think you have my husband confused with somepony else. His name’s-”

“Fairlight. I know.” Booster gave a smile that would have had me running for cover if I hadn’t been half dead right then. Or ‘deader’ I suppose. “Hey, you don’t look so good buddy.”

Meadow shook her head. “He needs a doctor, and unless you’re one yourself or a taxi driver, then you’ll have to excuse us.” She began to move me away from the pegasus stallion but was suddenly pulled up short.

“I’ll take him. I know where the doctor lives, and I have a chariot waiting around the corner.” He reached into his pocket and flashed something that made Meadow gasp. “You go back inside now ma’am, I believe you have family waiting for you?”

I heard Meadow’s hesitation in her voice. “I… I don’t know. I don’t know you, and-”

“Don’t worry!” Booster laughed unexpectedly. “He’ll be fine! We’ll get him patched up and back to you in two shakes of a manticore’s tail. Go on, you go and enjoy the rest of the performance.”

Meadow leaned towards me. “Love, I… I’m not so sure. Do you really know this stallion?”

I nodded weakly. “Yeah, he goes to the counselling courses with me.” I took a breath, gently taking Meadow’s hoof. “Don’t worry, love, you go back and watch the play. Meringue and Apple Pop will be worried sick, not to mention Sparrow. You’d better rescue your folks or they’ll never forgive me!”

I could tell she wasn’t convinced, but reluctantly she nodded her ascent. “Okay, but I want him looked after properly, okay?”

Booster smiled. “Of course! You’ve got nothing at all to worry about.”

“Hmm...” Meadow leaned forward and whispered in the pegasi’s ear, her words making my legs break out in goosebumps. “If you know, truly know who my husband is, sir, then I assure you that if any harm comes to him, any at all, I will come looking for you. I will find you. And you will find that my wrath will be far, far worse than any of the stories you may have already heard.” She stared unblinking into the wide eyes of the stallion. “Do I make myself clear?”

Booster swallowed. “Crystal.”

“Good. That’s good,” Meadow smiled sweetly. “Right, that’s settled then.” She turned to me and gave me a soft nuzzle, her words meant for my ears only. “Be careful, Fairlight. I’m still angry with you, but… I want you home. Safe. Okay?”

I gave her a wink. “Don’t worry love, I will be. Have to be for the next therapy session, eh?”

She shook her head solemnly as she turned away. “I’ll see you soon.” Meadow muttered something to Booster and headed back to the theatre’s interior, leaving me standing there with the black and white patched pegasus who was watching her go with a peculiarly mixed expression of concern and smug self congratulation on his face.

“Come on big guy, let’s get you to the old sawbones and get you put right eh?”

I squeezed my eyes closed against another wave of giddiness. “Do I have a choice?”

Booster chuckled. “Nah. Come on, I’ve got the wheels in the parking bay round the corner.”

It was still bright sunshine outside, the breeze just enough to take the edge of the sun’s heat and make the day pleasant and comfortable. For normal ponies that was. Muggins here was as usual the exception, being half carried, half dragged, by a pegasus who I barely knew. Normally alarm bells would be ringing in a situation like this. At least they would have been if I hadn’t been so completely helpless, but what was done was done. Booster seemed a decent sort at least, and Meadow, in her own way, had trusted him enough to allow him to whisk me away in his chariot. If she hadn’t been with her parents and Sparrow, I wondered if she would have been so quick to let a stranger take her husband off to a doctor. Well, too late to worry about that now. In any case, I was so half-gone I could barely stand up without help. My hooves slipped on the smooth metal rail around the chariot’s passenger compartment and I all but fell inside. Booster had the tailgate up and latched in seconds, patting me on the shoulder.

“I’ll take it easy, so just sit back and chill out as best you can. We’ll be there in-” He froze, staring at the hoof that held him there…

I looked him right in the eyes. “Who are you, really?”

Booster hesitated for a moment before replying, “A friend, that’s all. And friends help each other, right?”

“A friend...” I repeated weakly.

I watched him carefully for any sign, any suggestion that he may be concealing something, but all I could see was a sincere honesty that suggested that even if he was hiding his true motives, he still had my best interests at heart. So far as I could tell anyway. I let him go and flopped back into the chariot, clipping the safety harness into place. The piebald pegasus frowned at me a moment and then, shrugging it off, trotted round to the front of the chariot where he began strapping himself into the flight harness. I used to hate flying, but in fairness that was probably more due to not being the one in control. After my ‘transformation’ I had discovered a whole new world of possibility, and… freedom. The ability to go where you wanted, the joy of being able to swoop and soar, diving and banking at frightening speed, was the kind of exhilaration that not even the fastest funfair roller coasters could compare with. Being at the mercy of your pilot was a different matter altogether though, and Booster… well, let’s just say I’d already been in a free fall with the guy once already. That hadn’t ended well at all for the poor bugger, and it had nearly sent me to the next life ahead of time too. I’m not sure what would happen here in the herd, it was probably rather difficult to kill somepony twice, but I would imagine it would be far from a pleasant experience and something I would definitely want to avoid. I peered over the side of the chariot and noticed we were already flying. Damn, I hadn’t even felt us leave the ground! This guy was good…

We skimmed over the town, the beautifully made buildings below us clear as crystal in the equally clear sky. If there was one thing you could say about Equestria, it was that they sure knew how to make buildings both beautiful as well as practical. The eternal herd was no exception either, with countless years of the greatest minds my old homeland had to offer bringing their own skills to the after life I suppose it was inevitable that that would be the case. It was still no less breathtaking to behold. Indeed, our very own cottage was the product of Meadow’s desires, conjured from the ether both as a projection of her love of peace and gentleness as well as my own. The herd was, it had to be said, a true balm to the even the most troubled soul. They say that you don’t know what you have until it’s gone, and there is a degree of cold hard truth in that. I missed my family in the mortal realm, but the herd was just so unimaginably perfect that it masked the sense of loss. Whether by design or coincidence I wasn’t sure, but maybe it was just as well. To spend eternity living in a constant state of regret would turn you into a lifeless, soulless wreck. I knew I’d see my friends and loved ones again some day, and you never know, maybe even go to the theatre with them too! So long as it wasn’t another bloody musical. Gods, why did they ruin a good story by bursting into song all the time? One of life’s little mysteries... I sighed and settled back into the chariot. Up front Booster’s wings barely moved, the wind gliding over his feathers making me feel relaxed though also oddly impotent. I’d never been much of an accomplished flyer myself, my wendigo wings more akin to a dragon’s than that a pegasi’s. When I’d had them that was. Goddesses, how I missed that feeling of freedom, the sense of elation and being able to go wherever you wanted whenever you wanted. I hadn’t been born with them of course, I was at heart still your common or garden variety unicorn, but there was still that tiny little part of me, that miniscule voice that-

“Hoy! Wakey wakey, Bob!”

“Huh? Gah! Bloody hell, Booster, you nearly gave me a blasted heart attack!” I took a breath and looked about at the quaint scene around me. We were in a courtyard of sorts, sat in what looked liked several acres of pear trees with neat wooden fencing and a long driveway lined with elms. I stood up, taking in the magnificent white washed building that was the centrepiece of the this visual feast. Tall arched windows lined the spotless walls while statues of equestrian historical figures sat outside a marble columned portico leading to massive oak and iron shod doors. The bright yellow gravel crunched under hoof as Booster helped me out of the chariot.

“Sorry about that bud. You okay?” The piebald pegasus tried to look sincere, but there was no hiding the cheeky smirk on that honest face.

I shook my head, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah...” A thought popped into my mind, something Meadow had been talking about, something that I mentally pocketed for later. My old watchpony mind began to grind back to life, warning me to be on my guard even as my legs trembled, reminding me that there was a reason I was here other than to admire the scenery. Wherever ‘here’ was of course.

Booster caught me nimbly as I stumbled. “Whoa there big guy, don’t run before you can walk eh?”

“And other cliché’s,” I mumbled. “Damn it, I’m as weak as a bloody kitten.”

“Just without the cuteness factor,” Booster added cheekily.

Couldn’t argue there. I’d never win any beauty contests, that was for sure. Still, my newly clipped look hadn’t been missed.

“You had a makeover recently?” Booster observed. “You seem… sleeker somehow.”

“Yeah,” I said, wincing at the ache in my legs. “Just for you, lover.”

Booster laughed, “Nothing wrong with the old Bob wit though! Come on, let’s get you inside. I’m gasping for a cuppa.”

Tea sure sounded good right about then. Helped to the doors by my willing assistant, our arrival had already been noticed. A maid was stood in the now open doorway along with a bright orange earth pony stallion with white markings on his face and legs. He was sporting a slicked back black mane with thin stripes of white in it almost like my own. His curiously deep purple eyes reminded me of the princess, just without the murderous intent. She was… no, that wasn’t entirely fair. She only wanted to murder me initially. Once she’d found that I wasn’t the menace to equestrian society she’d originally thought, she’d been positively cordial. Now, I was… Oh, only goddesses knew! Who the hell cared anyway? I all but threw myself at the cup of tea Booster appeared with, having already helped himself to the teapot that stood next to a plate of neatly cut-

“Sandwich?” the stallion, I presumed was the doctor, offered.

“Um… yeah. Thanks.” Damn it! Had I been speaking out loud again? My old habit was one of the many I’d been trying to rid myself of, not least because a pony talking to themselves had a tendency to draw unwanted attention to them. Or me, specifically. At the very least I think I may have inadvertently treated my kindly host to the trademark Fairlight scowl, judging by the doctor’s raised eyebrow. I took a bite and tried a smile. “It’s very good, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” The doctor waved me over to a large comfortable chair lined with deep blue velvet. It was a smaller piece of an overall ensemble of colour, from the long blue and silver trimmed curtains to the matching carpet that, I noticed upon closer inspection, was embroidered with small stars and moons. If I hadn’t known better I’d have sworn I was in Luna’s private chambers at the… where was it now? Hell fire, I knew the answer but I just couldn’t put my hoof on it. The answer danced away from me just out of reach. The orange stallion nodded to Booster, “Friend of yours?”

Booster nodded. “We go to the same brain washing class. Us poor freshmen have to stick together you know.”

“Hah!” The doctor waved a hoof, chuckling under his breath. “Now there’s a word I haven’t heard in quite a while.”

My pegasi colleague smirked before getting up from his chair and headed for the door. “Guess I’ll leave you two to it then,” he announced. “‘Patient confidentiality’ and all that malarkey.”

I smiled as the door closed with a loud click behind him, leaving me alone with the good doctor. Speaking of which, he looked far from the sort of doctor I was used to: no white coat, no reflector on his head, and a decided lack of what I’d assumed was the obligatory stethoscope. If I had been asked what best suited the fellow, I’d say that he looked more like an accountant that a physician. He wore a dark blue embroidered waistcoat with a smart floral pattern in reds and golds, complementing the room we were in as if he were simply another piece of décor. One that could walk and talk of course, not to mention provide the most excellent sandwiches.

“How’s the tea?” he asked.

“Oh! Er, thank you, it’s very good,” I said a little embarrassed that I’d accepted it without even acknowledging my host. “Very refreshing.”

“It’s a mint based tea, extracted using a pressure system I designed myself.” The doctor gave a slight smile. “I’m quite proud of how it turned out actually,” he chuckled. “Not that I like to boast.”

“No, not at all.” I took another sip. It really was quite delicious, and made my mouth tingle slightly. “I’ve never had it’s like in the mortal realm.”

The doctor sighed quietly under his breath. “I would have been surprised if you had. In the mortal realm it’s only found in the continent of storms where the damp conditions help it grow.”

“Continent of storms?” I asked, intrigued. “Where’s that?”

“A long way from here, that’s for sure!” the doctor laughed. He put his cup down with a clink of china and relaxed into his chair. “Back in my day we had a regular supply of it of course. When I was alive I worked with my wife to help pioneer thaumaturgical matrices used by the trans-ether system that became widespread across the continent over the coming decades. What a wonder it was! Our merchants used it to establish trade routes with peoples and places modern day Equestria hasn’t had contact with for more years than I care to count.” Suddenly his eyes took on a distant caste. “Both it and so many more marvels of the modern age left us when the empire was banished. It was a tragedy, both for the empire, and for the world.”

I stared down into the steaming dark liquid. This was one of those awkward moments that seemed to harangue me at every turn lately. I nodded my understanding. “I’m sorry about your wife, Doctor. It must have been very hard for you.”

“It has been, but one gets used to these things.” The doctor stared at the pot, watching the steam curling up from the spout. “It has been a long wait, but I have faith we shall be reunited again some day. If it hadn’t been for my work, I may have...” The doctor paused, giving himself a shake. “Hah! Listen to me, blabbering like some old fish-wife. You’ll have to forgive me, sir. I don’t have so many visitors these days other than young Booster and my fellow physicians. Believe me, there are only so many times one can play wist with that bunch of old beggars before you start to lose your will to live!” He grinned broadly. “So, enough about me. I believe introductions are in order.” He stood up and offered a hoof. “Bourbon Crisp, at your service.”

“Oh, um… Fair...” I cleared my throat. “Fairlight. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“And you have need of a doctor, yes?”

I hung my head. In truth I’d begun to feel much better, and in the manner of how when one goes to the dentist and that tooth you’d been having all the trouble with was suddenly behaving itself, I felt like a fraud. I sighed apologetically, “I’m sorry, Doctor. I think I’m wasting your time.”

“Oh?” The doctor raised an eyebrow. “And what makes you think you’re wasting my time?”

For a moment I paused, looking up at him from under my brows. “You’re a psychiatrist, aren’t you.”

Doctor Crisp chuckled, “Hardly!” He shrugged off my concerned expression as of no consequence. “No, although I’ll admit I have… dabbled somewhat over the centuries.” The orange stallion lifted a cake from the table and popped it into his mouth. As he chewed, his eyes never left mine. A rather unnerving trait, I soon discovered, that made me feel as though I wanted to tell him everything about myself, right down to the minutest detail. It was a trick we’d employed in the watch too. Give the suspect an inch and let them fill in the rest. A smile or a pleasant remark was sometimes all it took to get them talking. “It would be somewhat remiss of me to allow a patient to leave without making sure they were alright,” he suggested. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

I nodded.

“Capital!” The sharp clop of the doctor’s hooves made me look up quickly. In a flash, the curious fellow was standing up and motioning to the door. “Are you a gardening fellow, Fairlight?”

“Um...yes. I suppose so,” I replied.

The doctor smiled at my response. “Good! So, come, let me show you my garden and let us enjoy some of the scents and fragrances on this most beautiful day. As my wife would always remind me, it’s a crime to squander such a gift, and we should enjoy it to its fullest, wouldn’t you agree?”

How could I not? I’ll confess I was a little unsure about Bourbon, but he had a particular way of disarming you that would have been well placed in any interview room. Or a battlefield for that matter. He moved to the door and held it open for me invitingly. Nodding my thanks, I followed him along the light and airy corridors in his tall ceilinged home. Whoever had designed this place knew what they were doing alright. The placing of the windows was perfect for allowing in the maximum amount of sunlight, making the interior feel just as bright and vibrant as the colourful gardens outside. Landscape paintings and pictures that clearly depicted scenes long gone in the Equestria I knew, added a personal touch that screamed at you that you were in somepony’s home, and not a mere physical structure of brick and stone. And yet despite all of this, even with the two of us and no doubt Booster milling about somewhere, it all felt so… ‘empty’ somehow. It wasn’t as though the house was too big, although that certainly would have been my first reaction, it was something more, an intangible sense of waiting, as though the house were missing a vital component which it was anticipating the return of. At any moment. A shiver went down my spine at that thought, and the realisation of what such an event may mean for the world too. For all of us. Well, not for ‘us’ specifically, not with being deceased, but-

“Mind the step won’t you. I’ve nearly gone flying a few times on that.”

“Huh?” Right on cue my hoof caught on the edge of the step and I pitched forward like a sack of potatoes, right into the forelegs of the good doctor. Celestia help me, I could feel my ears burning with the embarrassment. Good going, Fairlight, you’d been there, what, ten minutes? And already made yourself look like an absolute idiot. No wonder Meadow was… was…

“There we go.” The doctor brushed at a speck of dirt on my coat, stood back, and smiled. “No harm done. No broken bones, and not even a chipped hoof.” He turned away, beckoning me to follow. “Like I said, I’ve done that many a time. I suppose I could have done something about it, made it safer, more ‘accessible’ I suppose, but then, isn’t life all about taking risks? About pushing yourself forward as much as you can?”

The curt reply was as much a response to my humiliating trip as it was to Bourbon’s statement. “I’m dead.”

“We most certainly are,” Bourbon replied in the same tone he’d started out with. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t live, Fairlight.” The doctor stopped by a patch of purplish plants whose smell I instantly recognised.

“Rosemary,” I breathed. “Reminds me of...”

“Home,” Bourbon finished for me. He gave himself a shake and smiled as he gazed off into the distance. “My wife used to use it in her recipes. I can remember all these wonderful aromas snaking around the house, tempting me with the promise of all those delicious morsels she would prepare as if it were as simple as water rolling off a duck’s back.” He closed his eyes, breathing it all in. “It’s such a simple thing really. So wonderfully… gentle.” Bourbon rolled his shoulders and sighed, “Does your wife cook, Fairlight?”

The heady scent of rosemary tugged at my nose and memories with a gentle insistence that played with my recollections like a kitten. Kitten… I’d always wanted a kitten. Mum wouldn’t let me have one for fear of one of us standing on the little thing. Dad was always stomping about when he was home, always far more interested in work or what was in the newspaper, or that blasted radio. The damned thing was always on, day in, day out, except when mum got sick of it and would switch it off. That would then set dad off and then the usual bickering would begin once again. That was my cue to disappear out into the fields around the back of our house and just… wander.

“Fairlight?”

I gave myself a shake and refocussed on the doctor’s question. “She does. Meadow’s a very accomplished cook.” I paused, “How did you know I was married?”

“An educated guess,” Bourbon replied politely. “There’s an air around a fellow who’s married.” Suddenly the doctor laughed. “Far from scientific, I know, but it’s there alright. Oh, some of my more learned colleagues would chastise me for talking like this true, but I suspect that they’re a lot more than aware of it themselves than they’d care to admit. You too, I suspect?”

“The invisible shackles?” I muttered.

Bourbon chuckled, “Perhaps. Some may call them ‘the bonds of matrimony. It’s a matter of personal perspective and, I dare say, personal circumstances.’”

We walked on along the garden path, the bright yellow pea gravel crunching satisfyingly under hoof. The fragrances of flowers and herbs in full bloom was heady yet also deliciously calming. I felt at ease here, relaxed, and I may even go so far as to say ‘at peace with myself’. I have to admit the doctor certainly knew his culinary herbs too, as they were very much in evidence as he showed me through that maze of horticultural enlightenment. There were ones I recognised, such as bay, basil, oregano, and others I had never heard of. I think Meadow would have commented dryly on the fact that most of my knowledge was related to food, but at least I knew something about what I was looking at, right? Yeah… right. The doctor pointed out another herb further along and I just caught the tail end of what he was saying.

“I’m sorry, I missed that,” I admitted politely.

Doctor Crisp smiled that small smile of his. “Artemisia Dracunculus,” he repeated. “More commonly known as-”

“Tarragon.” I leaned towards the bushy plant with its long thin leaves and rubbed one of them gently before sniffing my hoof. “Aniseed.”

“It’s not really aniseed of course,” Bourbon said smiling. “But it’s certainly reminiscent of it, wouldn’t you say?”

I nodded. Goddesses…. Tarragon, my little dragon. Well, she was probably not so little now. How many years had it been? I didn’t know much about dragon physiology, but she must have grown since I saw her last. Tingles would be older too, and Shadow, and… “My son,” I murmured. Damn it! I was starting to well up and I quickly had to rub my eyes, passing it off as simple clearing of my nose.

“Catches the back of your throat a bit, doesn’t it?” Bourbon observed. “Watch it doesn’t get in your eyes, it can cause quite the sting. I managed to get some lemon grass in mine a few weeks ago and did I howl afterwards!” He began walking again and I quickly caught up with him.

“This garden,” I said quietly. “It’s for her, isn’t it.”

The doctor stopped by a large purple flowering bush. He didn’t turn to face me as I expected, instead he simply said, “It is.”

“You truly believe she’ll be coming home? Here?” I asked.

Bourbon sighed. “I do.” The orange stallion leaned towards the bush and closed his eye, breathing it in. “Tell me, Fairlight, what does this one remind you of?”

“This one?” I did as he instructed and breathed in the unmistakably sweet smell of… “Lavender.” The strength of the tiny flowers was almost overpowering, and I had to fight the urge to sneeze. It was one of my favourites, albeit mostly in the form of pot-pourri, soap, and… “Home,” I said quietly. “It reminds me of home.”

“In Equestria?” Bourbon asked.

“No, and… also yes.” I closed my eyes and let the fragrance waft over me. “I didn’t have a home in Equestria.”

“You didn’t?” my host asked quietly.

“No. I mean, yes, I did, but… it didn’t last. Nothing I had lasted for very long before it was all… before it was...” I gave myself a shake and sank to my haunches, trying to pull myself together. “Forgive me.”

“For what?”

“For… For wasting your time.” I stood abruptly and took a deep breath. I had to get out of here, out of this damned garden, before I ended up a blubbering mess as my emotional state began to show not only cracks but near chasms that I was certain the doctor had seen too. To my surprise a hoof on my shoulder accompanied a smile that could have soothed Nightmare Moon’s black heart.

“Come, Fairlight, let us sit a while by the pond.” Bourbon nodded, indicating a wooden seat further along the path beneath the shade of a willow. “The herb garden can be a little… ‘intoxicating’ at times. The air by the pond is a lot more gentle on the olfactory senses.”

The two of us walked on to what transpired to be the end of the pea gravel path. Here the view was simply… breathtaking. The ‘pond’, Doctor Crisp had spoken of was nothing of the sort. I don’t how many ‘ponds’ sported a boathouse and island either. It was without exaggeration a lake, and as still and pure as the air above it, broken only by the occasional flight of bluebirds and larks which added their own musical accompaniment to our presence. I took the seat offered to me and sank into it gratefully. Right then the simple slatted wooden bench felt like I was being enfolded in the softest down. I smiled as, right on cue, a troop of ducklings, headed by their ever observant mother, marched to the lakeside and pushed off towards the island. Their quacks and comical waddling brought a smile to my face.

“Did you create all of this?” I asked.

Bourbon smiled. “Mostly. The land here ‘moulds’ itself to ones will, as I’m sure you will have already discovered for yourself. There are limits of course, but for the most part, what is in your heart becomes your reality.”

“Sounds like you have to have planning permission even in paradise,” I chuckled.

Bourbon let out a bark of laughter. “Ha! I never thought about it like that. But yes, even here you never fully escape the bonds of bureaucracy. It is as constant as the heavens and as pervasive as the very air we breathe.”

I nodded. “The eternal civil service.”

Horribly, I wondered whether there was a hell where civil servants went to push paperwork on and on until the very end of time, drowning in the sound of a million typewriters. What a terrifying thought! I gave myself a mental shake and rolled my shoulders before adjusting my tail. With a deep breath I could feel my senses expanding as much as the lake before me, taking in the faint breeze, the scent of freshly cut grass, the white winged butterflies flitting above the greenery on their zig zagging quest to go wherever it was they were going. Goddesses… it was so wonderful here… Time seemed to pass, my quiet observance of the world around us holding meaning only to myself and, I suspected, to my gracious host. Time… It meant so little here, if anything at all. A gentle clinking made my ears twitch. It was the maid with a silver tray floating in her magic. Without a word she placed two glasses of bubbling liquid on the wooden table before us.

“Thank you, Lilly.” The doctor smiled happily at the maid who swished away in her long black and white skirts.

“Relative?” I asked casually, noting the similarity in the maid’s colouring to my host’s.

Bourbon shook his head. “No, not Lilly,” he smiled. “She came here looking for work, and what with my good lady being… ‘absent’, she helps me keep everything shipshape.” He chuckled lightly. “You’re not the first to ask. Usually ponies think she’s my daughter would you believe!”

“The coat colour,” I replied politely. “Tends to be a common misconception that similar coat colours run in families.” I floated one of the glasses over to the doctor who took it with a nod. “It can of course, like my own, but it’s something that you have to be aware of during an investigation.”

“Ah, of course. You were a watchstallion were you not?” Bourbon asked.

I nodded. “Was. Things… didn’t quite go as planned.”

“Life seldom does,” Bourbon agreed. He took a sip of what turned out to be some of the most excellent lemonade I’d ever had. “If it did, I’d be with April now.” He swallowed and smacked his lips. “Or she’d be here with me. Either would be satisfactory.”

I felt a shiver of regret run through me as cold as the ice in my lemonade, the images of my family on the other side of the veil that split our worlds as impenetrable as the strongest fortress, and one that only time could breach. I nodded, “Yes… either would be.”

“I see we are of a mind, you and I,” Bourbon said quietly. “Tell me, Fairlight, how do feel about being here.”

“It’s wonderful,” I said with a deep sigh. “The lake, the herb garden and the lemonade brought to you by a pretty maid… Who could fail to find this anything but?”

Bourbon shook his head. “No, I meant being here,” he held up a foreleg, “in the herd.”

“That’s a broad question,” I replied, a little unsure of how to answer.

Bourbon shrugged. “Then just tell me what you feel inside,” he said, “or not. It’s such a nice day, we need not spoil it with unpleasant thoughts, Fairlight. After all, you’re here as my guest. No more, no less.”

“I thought you were a doctor?” I asked.

Bourbon smiled wryly. “I am, but there’s little need for one such as I here in the eternal herd. In fact, you’re the first real patient I’ve had in more years than I care to recall.”

“I’m a real patient?” I asked in surprise. “Because I was ill at the theatre?”

“Were you?” Bourbon took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he stretched. “You seem well enough now.” He raised an eyebrow casually. “Do you feel ill in yourself?”

“I… no. No, I feel… fine.” I stared at the ice in the lemonade, half watching it move as it melted. “Like I said before, I think everpony overreacted and I’ve-”

“You’ve not wasted your time, Fairlight.” Bourbon interrupted. He turned to face me. “You’ve spent time with another stallion, enjoyed a walk and a chat, had a drink by the lakeside, and, as you said yourself, you feel better. Now I don’t know about you, but I’d say that was far from wasting either my time or yours, wouldn’t you?”

Suddenly I felt a little foolish. I really did feel better, and more so for meeting somepony new and being treated to such a pleasant afternoon, or was it evening? The sun was starting to dip on the horizon and I could feel my body responding to the relaxing effect of my surroundings as well as the comfortable bench beneath me. I looked down at my neatly trimmed leg and thought of Jelly Bean. He was… I frowned in thought for a moment.

“Doctor?”

“Hmm?”

I put my glass down and leaned back, staring up at the pure blue sky. “Are there many ponies from the empire here? I met another only recently.”

“Ah, expecting us to sparkle were you?”

I suddenly realised what he meant. “Not at all. I-” I began.

Bourbon lifted a hoof, his eyes catching the sunlight. “Forgive me. That was rude of me.” He sighed and rubbed his eyes with a foreleg. “Many ponies think we do, but it’s actually a side effect of the ‘heart of the empire’, the magic that protected our home since the earliest days. In it’s absence we are… well, not to put too fine a point on it, we look like what we are: ponies just like you.”

“Jelly Bean said as much,” I replied.

Bourbon’s smile widened. “I thought he might.” He waved a hoof towards me. “The work of the master barber tells its own tale.”

“Ah, bit of a give away, eh?” I shrugged, tossing my neatly coiffed mane. “Is he a friend of yours?”

The orange stallion shook his head. “Not really. He comes here now and again to give me a trim, but personally I prefer not to reminisce about ‘the old days’ as he likes to do. Bless him, he misses his old home terribly, but for me, I’d welcome the empire back for other reasons.” He took a sip of his lemonade. “Which I believe you already understand?”

I nodded. To be parted from the one you love, knowing that not even in death would you be together, was something too terrible for me to contemplate. In some respects this was a purgatory for the old stallion, one that was sweet scented, beautiful to behold and devoid of the need for any bars of iron or otherwise of course, but a cell nonetheless. For Doctor Bourbon Crisp, the stallion from the Crystal Empire, the only shackles needed were in his own mind, and his heart.

“So there are more empire ponies in the herd?” I asked quietly.

Bourbon shook his head. “Not so much now. In the early days, when we passed from the mortal realm to the herd be it through sickness, injury, or just plain old age, we would have get-togethers and sing the old songs, dance the old dances, and drink until it came out of our ears.” He raised an eyebrow in my direction. “I think you know how that usually ends.”

I barked out a sarcastic laugh. “Not drunk, that’s for sure!”

“No. The laws of the herd prohibit one from even drinking their sorrows away.” Bourbon sipped thoughtfully at his lemonade. “We supped and danced and sang, and one by one, year after year, there were fewer and fewer of us. Now, other than myself, Jelly Bean, and maybe one or two more I’ve lost touch with, we are all that remain.”

I didn’t know what to say, except, “I’m sorry. It must be dreadful to have such a loss hanging over you. I’d thought everypony here was supposed to be-”

“Happy?” the doctor finished for me. “Yes, I suppose we should have been. And who knows, perhaps some genuinely were. But you see, Fairlight, even paradise can become the mundane, and that once long sought for happiness can slowly fray the edges of a pony’s mind until they begin to show signs of… disassociation.”

“And you think that’s what’s happening to me?” I asked inquisitively. “This ‘disassociation’?” It hardly seemed likely. I’d barely been here five minutes, and I was far from unhappy. So far as I could tell at any rate.

As if in answer to my unspoken words, Bourbon shook his head. “No. Not yet anyway, and not in the same manner. Similar perhaps, but not the same.”

With a groan I sat upright and finished my lemonade, placing the glass back neatly on the silver tray. The sun was lower in the sky now, its warm rays gently washing the snow covered caps of the mountains and sending long shadows out into the valley below. The play would be over by now, and Sparrow and Meadow would be heading home with my ‘beloved’ in-laws. Staying here as opposed to going back and facing them sounded like the sort of prospect I could quite happily live with, at least until the old sods had buggered off home, but as for Meadow… well, I had to face the music sooner or later. ‘Later’, I suspected, was definitely the preferable choice in this particular situation. Right then something else was bothering me though, and as usual my mouth was in gear before my brain.

“What happened to your friends, Bourbon. If they’re dead and in the herd, then...” The words died in my mouth as the expression on the orange stallion’s face changed in an instant. It wasn’t anger at my insensitive question, nor was it sadness or loss, it was… it was like stone. As a statue given life, his lips moved, the eyes staring straight ahead into the fathomless depths of the ages…

“You have heard the expression, ‘you can have too much of a good thing’?” he said quietly.

I nodded. “Yeah.”

“There comes a time, my young friend,” Bourbon said in a curiously calm voice, “when you tire of dances, when the music becomes so familiar it pains your ears to hear it played, again and again. The choicest delicacies taste as bland as plain bread, the finest wines as tasteless as ditch water. Even seeking the company of those you once called friends becomes a chore. There is nothing that has not been said, no book that you haven’t read a thousand times. Even the plays, like the one they had today which you went to see, I have sat through time after time after time.” Bourbon sighed, closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair. “Paradise… truly can become your own private hell.”

The good doctor’s description of the afterlife didn’t comfort me in the slightest, not least because it echoed my own thoughts on the enigmatic fellow’s life here. Was this what I had to look forward to? An eternity of bland nothingness? I gave my mane a shake and decided to make my excuses before I ended up causing any further upset for my kindly host. “I’m sorry, my thoughtless words have brought up bad memories for you.” I went to stand. “I should go.”

“Nonsense.” Bourbon lifted a hoof. “It’s me who should be the one apologising, Fairlight.” He laughed unexpectedly, his mood apparently changing in an instant. “Here I am chuntering along, bemoaning my fate when here you are, the patient of the hour!” He put his empty glass on the tray and stood up. “Come along. We’ll have a wander through the rose garden on the way back to the house. Poor Booster will be wondering if we’ve gotten lost.” He paused and glanced over his shoulder. “Leave the glasses, Lilly will collect them later. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about her since she started here, it’s that she likes things done a certain way.”

“Her way, by any chance?” I offered.

Bourbon smiled, “I see you know mares, Fairlight. An excellent survival strategy that all too many stallions have failed to understand over the ages.”

We walked across the neatly trimmed lawn, taking in the cooling air that tickled my ears and played with my mane as the breeze blew through the elm trees that bordered the lake. I’d noted that Bourbon hadn’t answered my question, but in truth, it didn’t need answering. I already knew. It was one of the least spoken about aspects of the herd, and one that you could almost be forgiven for thinking didn’t even exist. But it did. We all knew about it, and I, like so many others like me, believed that such a thing was utterly inconceivable. How could anypony become sick of happiness? How could you, honestly and truthfully, become weary of such unimaginable beauty as was around me at that very moment. Trees, healthy and lush with deep green leaves, the grass cut to perfection, the scent of herbs and flowers, roses… The smell hit me like a sledgehammer to the muzzle, making me balk.

“Fairlight?” Bourbon had stopped and turned back to face me. “Are you alright?”

“I… yes.” I gave myself a shake. “I’m sorry, doctor, I’d like to go now, and-”

Bourbon’s hoof shot out, blocking my passage. “Tell me.” His words were as soft as gossamer. “Tell me what you see.”

“I… I don’t see anything,” I tried, shaking my mane. “You, the roses, the smell. It’s just so strong, and… and it reminds me...”

“Yes...” Bourbon moved closer, his eyes locking with mine, those deep reflective orbs staring, watching. “Let the memories flow, Fairlight. Let them out, bring them up from the depths of your heart and break through to who you are now. Bring there here, here to this this garden for us to see.”

“I… No!” I stammered.

“But you must!” The doctor stood on his hind legs, his forehooves on my shoulders. “You must confront what it is that taints your soul, Fairlight. You are a father, are you not?”

“A father?” I asked dumbly. “I… Yes, yes I am.”

“What would you do to protect your child?”

“I… I would do anything. Anything at all,” I replied.

“Anything?” Bourbon’s eyes… Goddesses, those eyes! “Would you risk your life for her?” he asked. “Would kill, would you maim, would you destroy any and all to protect your daughter’s life?”

I swallowed, squeezing my eyes shut as I answered, “Yes! Damn it, YES!” I gritted my teeth, feeling something, something familiar and yet seemingly altogether alien within me warring for my attention. It was so hard to fight, so hard to stand before the fury of the storm. Goddess forgive me… I surrendered to it. Utterly. “Damn it, Bourbon, I would. I would kill any bastard who would threaten her, my son, or any of my family. I would do it in a heartbeat, and do you know what? I have done it. I have killed, I have butchered, I have slaughtered, and I have sung the song of war as I have danced upon their steaming, reeking corpses.” I bared my teeth, dropping into the familiar fighting stance I had used oh, so many times before. “I have killed, Bourbon, killed and felt no remorse, no regret. I have killed the young and the old, burned them with ice fire, torn them with axe and blade, ripped their bodies apart and drunk their life’s essence. And now… and now… Goddess forgive me, I enjoyed it. I enjoyed the sight of those who had wronged me as they saw their fate bearing down upon them. I delighted in their screams and in their cries of anguish, knowing that death had come for them. And do you the best part? Do really want to know? I would do it all again! I wouldn’t know when to stop, I couldn’t stop, I couldn’t! Hell fire, Bourbon, I’m a bloody killer. I’m stained from coat to bone in the blood of those whose lives I took with these very hooves.” I was shouting now, screaming almost, my heart racing as the blood roared in my ears and my muscles burned. “I would burn the whole world to ashes to protect my loved ones and to the bowels of hell with anypony, any thing, that stood in my way.” I took a breath, the sweat from my forehead stinging my eyes. But right then, right at that moment, I didn’t care. I stared into the doctor’s eyes and saw, for the first time, a tinge of... what? Fear? “I would make them fear the night.”

And then, like the tide gradually receding from the shoreline, the anger, the unbridled fury that had seethed through me as hotly as a flash fire… was gone. Bourbon’s eyes were like reflective saucers, staring at me now as they had from the very start. And then, just at the very moment I expected him to flee… he laughed. The doctor’s laughter boomed out around the rose garden, echoing off the statuary and startling birds from the trees. It was deep, throaty, and full of an energy and life I was surprised to see in one whom I had already pegged as something of a melancholy sort. I felt a little cheated somehow.

Suddenly, he clopped me on the shoulder playfully, his eyes sparkling. “Oh, Fairlight! Ah, Fairlight, Fairlight, Fairlight!”

I blinked back my surprise. “Well,” I said a little more snarkily than intended, “that was unexpected.”

“Unexpected?” Bourbon plucked a hankie from his pocket and wiped his eyes, the mirth still shaking in his words. “What, did you want me to cower in fear? Or perhaps run, screaming for the hilltops?”

I wasn’t sure what to make about that comment. “I’m more used to ponies screaming ‘DEMON!’ and running away, yes.” Bourbon’s smile was contagious, and despite embarrassment replacing my initial flush of anger, I felt a stray chuckle well up inside me. “I can’t help but feel a little cheated really,” I quipped.

“I’m sorry to disappoint!” The orange stallion let out another barrage of laughter before turning to walk away. “Well, come on then! Lilly will have arranged for dinner for all of us, and if you think you’re a demon, Fairlight, then you obviously haven’t met Lilly when you let one of her meals grow cold!”

It was a shame to leave such an idyllic haven on a glorious day like today. Of course, the reality of it was that every day in the herd was glorious, but for me, each step away from that simple bench and the peaceful calm waters of the lake was like acknowledging a dire reality that I simply, genuinely, did not want to face. For whatever reason, my host had decided to take us back through the rose garden where we had been bathed in that heady floral scent. It had been all the trigger my pysche had needed, and the old bugger knew didn’t he. I smiled to myself; oh, yes… he knew.

“You seem pleased about something,” the doctor observed. “Care to share?”

Mind reading as well was apparently one of this fascinating earth pony’s traits. “Only that I’m impressed,” I said, feeling the corner of my mouth curl into grin. “How did you know roses would have that effect on me?”

“Truthfully? I didn’t,” Bourbon replied. “Or rather, I suspected they may.” He glanced over at me, his measured professional demeanour coming back as seamlessly as a bolt of satin. “I used to work in a mortuary when I was a youngster, for a while anyway. It was during my early days after leaving medical school. Not an especially pleasant task I’ll grant you, but a necessary one nonetheless.” He lifted his hoof, pointing to the one of the magnificent flowerbeds. “Memories are often triggered by familiar smells, aromas, scents – call them what you will. Death, as I discovered, has a very particular smell: a sweet, sickly scent that hangs in the air. In short, the smell of roses-”

“Is like the smell of death,” I finished for him.

The doctor nodded/ “I deduced that considering what I know of your past, Fairlight, that smell would be the one sense to trigger what I believe you have been suppressing since you passed over. In fact, I can see it not only by your connection to the earth, but simply by looking in your eyes.” He stopped and smiled at me in a manner that was so genuine, so heartfelt, that I felt like breaking into a gallop. “The fire of life burns inside you. Can you feel it? Can you sense any change? Anything at all?”

I closed my eyes for a moment. The smell of roses was gone now, replaced by the more gentle and subtle scent of common garden flowers and the fresh breeze through a nearby pine tree. Subconsciously I reached inside myself, sensing, probing for what had once been so alien and yet so common. It was… there was… something. Something was definitely there: a cold, hard something that was currently lying dormant, sleeping, like a bear in a cave. I could hear it, smell it even, and yet… and yet to try to wake it could potentially have wider ranging effects that would likely be, to put not too fine a point on it… extreme. I shivered, pulling myself back to face the good doctor. I was grinning ear to ear, as nervous and excited as a foal nearing Hearthswarming. It was… exhilarating. “How did you know?” I asked, “I haven’t told you anything about myself, and I’m fairly certain we haven’t met before.”

“We haven’t,” Bourbon shrugged. “However you’re quite the celebrity about town, as I’m sure you are well aware already. The newspapers have been full of your exploits even before you came to the herd, although naturally I wouldn’t be so naive as to accept everything they said as fact.”

“They weren’t exactly accurate, no,” I interjected.

Bourbon tossed his mane and nickered quietly. “No. No, I simply used reasoned deduction and watched how the lines of life energy flow around you.”

“You mean life energy?” I stopped and looked down at my legs, peering down my flank instinctively. I knew what life energy was, it was part of the world of the living, the threads of life that connected us to all living things. It was in us, around us, and was something which to my shame wendigo drank from the dying as it was released to fuel their own magic. It wasn’t something to be proud of, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to mention it to the doctor.

“Indeed,” Bourbon continued. He smiled and gazed up at the blue sky that was quickly taking on a soothing orange tinge in the sun’s dying light. “Earth ponies can see the lines that connect living things to the earth.” I nodded in agreement as he continued his explanation. “Even here in the herd the lines of life energy flow, and each and every one of us has a distinct pattern that is definitively unique to each soul.” He waved a hoof idly. “Yours looked… ‘knotted’ for want of a better word. There was part of your soul that, for whatever reason, was causing instability in your self.”

“What could cause that?” I asked. “Being a… well… you know...”

“Wendigo?” Bourbon snorted loudly. “Perhaps. Being brought to the herd is supposed to help cleanse the soul of any taint to prepare it for the afterlife. Although in the case of wendigo specifically, I confess I’m not sure. Some of them live with the thestrals due to their difficulty in assimilating into the herd, whereas some elected for reincarnation, but there are still those who live amongst us as normal ponies just like you.” He smiled, “I suspect that there is something that gets left behind, some part of your nature that, if you deny it, causes problems of the like you were experiencing.” He took out his pocket watch and nodded to himself. “Like I said though, it’s a lot of speculation. I can only hope that I’ve gone at least some way to helping you.”

A school bell rang in the distance, playing with my memories of being a child once more. In my mind I was there, rolling in the freshly cut grass of the playing fields. I was there, dancing at the school end of term dinner with the cheeky little filly I’d had my eye one. I was there, under the tree, gazing into the eyes of the mare I loved more than anything in this goddess given world. I was-

“Dinner!” The voice rang out again, accompanied by the ear splitting ringing, “It’s going to go- Oh! Doctor, there you are. I’ve just put it on the table for you.” Lilly huffed under her breath, “I’d be quick if I were you, your friend, that pegasus, has already begun filling his face. Why you endure that freeloading, scone thieving...” The maid’s voice receded back into the house to a barely heard muttering that was probably intended for a certain occupant of the feathered variety.

“Shall we?” Bourbon and I entered, careful of the step this time, and entered the dining room. True to her word, the bane of Lilly’s evening cookery was already well into the process of stuffing himself with food as fast as his hooves could muster.

“Fmmf! Fey, thello you thoo.” Booster swallowed. “How’d it go? Is he still sick, doc?”

Bourbon shook his head. “I think it safe to say there’s been some improvement, wouldn’t you say?”

I nodded, smiling, “I think so.”And genuinely I did too. In fact I felt so energetic all of a sudden all I wanted to do was go for a damned good gallop, food be damned! Still, that would of course be rude to my host, and as for Lilly… No, I would be a good boy. I would sit, eat, and be the very image of the perfect guest. Meadow would be proud of me. Probably. Booster waved a hoof at one of the bowls; the one, I noticed, whose contents were now mostly forming a small mountain on his plate.

“Dude, you seriously have to try this mash. I’ve never had anything so smooth and buttery!” He pushed a gravy boat over to me. “There’s even onions in the gravy! Fried onions!”

Carefully floating several helpings of carrot, swede, mash, and some herby coated crunchy things onto my plate I couldn’t help but smile at Booster’s carefree antics. It was something I’d found with pegasi, be it my little Sparrow, my enigmatically name friend ‘Loofa’, or my beloved Tingles. There was an urgency about them, a sense of life and energy that demanded to be released as they crammed sensation and vibrancy into every single available second of life. If there was one word to describe pegasi, it was that they ‘lived’, truly lived. Of course they were all completely self obsessed and utterly bonkers, but that was probably just the unicorn in me talking. Hell, they were still were fun to be around, even if they did make your head spin at times. I looked up and saw Bourbon smiling despite the mess his feathered guest was making. I suppose that living for hundreds, if not thousands of years, simply waiting for something that may never even happen, meant bad tables manners were the least of your concerns. Perhaps having Booster here, and being around ponies like him, made Doctor Bourbon Crisp feel as if he were still a part of the world at large. Goddess damn it, he looked as young as the rest of us, so of course he was still part of the herd, it was just… I don’t know, it was just a kind of ‘inner emptiness’ that I sensed from him that made my heart cry out in sympathy. Perhaps one day he really would see his beloved wife once more, and the herb garden would be the delight for her that Bourbon had always wished it to be.

Dinner was finished with a bowl of sweet toffee ice cream, blue curaçao sauce, and several chocolate filled crispy tubes that I took an instant liking too. Best of all, and most certainly appealing to the foal in me, were these odd crispy ‘bits’ that had been sprinkled on the top, adding another intriguing texture to the already delicious dessert. One of these days I’d have to ask Miss Jubilee at the ice cream parlour what they were. I hadn’t been there for a while either. Perhaps when I got home I’d make arrangements for the three of us to go again. It would be nice to see the enigmatic belle of the town in her natural habitat once more. Mind you, come to think of it Meadow may have been deliberately avoiding going there because of my ‘interest’ in the owner’s accent. Of course I knew, to my admitted dismay, that she exaggerated the ‘southern lady’ portrayal somewhat, but by the goddess she pulled it off so well! I could feel myself melting faster that the ice cream just at the thought of it. ‘Fayerlaaht, well ah do declayer, y’all must be simply ravenous!’ Oh goddess! If I was only single again! Sadly, or should I say, fortunately for the sake of my sanity, we retired to the snug drawing room which, it was immediately obvious to anypony entering, was the true heart of the house. Medical books, maps, and an abundance of ancient tomes on magic theory and practice lined the walls. A neat marble fireplace with a golden clock above it and a painting of a mare formed the focal point of the well lit and tastefully painted room. The walls were white with accents of gold and parlour palms adding a dash of sophistication to it that really pulled at the stallion in me. The floor was a simple deep scarlet rug that gave softly beneath my hooves as we made ourselves comfortable in the deliciously relaxing chairs. Each one was the same, each spaced ‘just so’ with the overall impression that nopony, not even the owner of the house, had precedence over a guest. I was impressed. I could see why Booster liked it here so much, the doctor really knew how to make a fellow welcome. Thankfully we’d been invited to clean ourselves up after our meal, and Booster, thank Luna, had scrubbed up rather well. Personally I think it would have been easier to use a hose on him, but perhaps I’m just a little old fashioned like that.

“Wonderful home you have here, Doctor,” I said conversationally “It feels very welcoming, a feat few would be able to pull off as well as you have.”

“Pfff!” Booster chuckled as the doctor shot him an exasperated look.

“Thank you, Fairlight.” Bourbon picked up a tray of glasses with practised ease, placing them on the small table before us. Beside it sat… something I never thought I’d ever see again. I strained to take in the scent but- “Brandy?”

“Er, yes, thank you,” I said automatically.

“I’m afraid I’m a little low on selection at the moment,” Bourbon explained, uncorking the bottle. “I tend to only send for an order before the physicians meetings I hold here. That lot can drink like fish, and if they weren’t dead they certainly would be at the rate they down the contents of my drinks cabinet.”

“Brandy would be wonderful, thank you,” I smiled. “I’m rather partial truth be told.”

A rumbling chuckle from Booster made me look up. “So much for ‘doesn’t drink much’.”

“I don’t,” I sighed. “Meadow doesn’t approve.”

“Mares!” Booster huffed. “All the bloody same, always trying to control you and stop you from doing things they think are ‘dangerous’, or ‘lethal’, or ‘could get you or somepony else killed’. Bah! Bah, I say!”

The doctor shook his head. “What happened to that little filly you were with the other day then?”

“What, Autumn?” Booster scrunched up his face and stared into his glass, watching the golden liquid swirling round and round. “She’s different.”

“Of course she is,” Bourbon smiled. “The ones we love are always the ones who are different.”

“Bleh! What a load of old soppy tosh.” Booster took a mouthful of his brandy and commenced making the most horrendous coughing and strangling sounds I’d ever heard.

Bourbon ignored the choking pony as he topped up my glass. “Cavern aged apparently,” he said pleasantly. “One needs to sip it slowly, allowing the aromatics to circulate in your mouth and nose, caressing both your senses and the heart.” He raised an eyebrow at the hacking and now decidedly purple faced pegasus. “You certainly don’t slug it back like a cheap ale.”

“Gah!” Booster coughed expansively. “You could have warned me!”

“I have, and numerous times too.” Bourbon sighed beneath half lidded eyes. “Why do you think I don’t keep more alcohol in?”

“But-”

“I know you sample it when you think I’m not looking, Booster.” Bourbon rolled his eyes. “Honestly, Fairlight, it’s like having children.” He shot the pegasus a look that had him recoiling in his chair. “Fully grown children.”

“Huh, it’s not like you can get rat arsed on it anyway, is it? Bloody herd saw to that alright!” The pegasus folded his forelegs in a huff. “Go directly to tedium, do not enjoy yourself, do not laugh, do not collect two hundred bloody bits!”

Ignoring our erstwhile colleague, Bourbon produced a rack of items that had my hooves tingling in anticipation. “Do you partake?”

Oh… Oh sweet Luna! An array of pipes sat neatly arranged in their rosewood rack, each one crying out to the nicotine addict that had lingered dormant within me for longer than I cared to remember. It was a habit Meadow had insisted I give up, and one I hadn’t even had the slightest craving for since arriving in the herd. But now… as the box opened… the aroma, the smell of slightly moist and rich tobacco, screamed through me like a banshee.

“Yes. Yes, please,” I breathed. She’d never forgive me. But sweet Celestia, I didn’t care...

“This one I keep for guests,” Bourbon said casually selecting one the pipes. “It’s made from Hearthwood, a material found only in the Withers. I find it allows for a cooler smoke, and gives the tobacco a surprisingly lively air.”

I lifted the pipe with my magic and, at the doctor’s insistence, took a plug of tobacco from the humidor, packing it in just so. Across from me, Booster took a cigar and lounged back in his chair happily. Using one of my old party tricks, a small flame conjured with my magic, I danced it gently over the bowl as I charred the surface. Moments later I was adrift upon a sea of the purest joy.

“Good?” Bourbon asked.

“Good,” I nodded.

The doctor took an elegant amber stemmed calabash for himself from a holder over the fireplace and settled into his chair, watching the smoke slowly rise. “Once I would have chastised a pony for smoking,” he said absently. “But you know, I always say that sharing a fine tobacco and an equally fine brandy, are one of small pleasures in life a stallion should never be without.”

“But better enjoyed with friends, eh?” Booster announced happily, taking a pull on his cigar.

“To friends,” Bourbon offered, raising his glass.

The three of us joined him. “To friends.”