Flakes fell as the bone-chilling gusts of wind tore across the streets of Hollow Shades. To the pale-coated Earth stallion with the unkempt mane of jet black coloration. To him, it seemed as if the windigos had returned, plaguing the small town.
Bitter cold spawned from the bitter heart of hatred, indeed. Whether it truly was windigos, well, that was unlikely.
As the stallion scanned the streets and alleys, he pondered the nature of suffering.
Suffering, a potent abstraction spawned from the existence of sin. Suffering was painful, but one must suffer for their deeds.
Suffering, and humility...
Humility was a form of suffering. Humility was also acceptance and learning, essential to the maturing of an individual.
Life was full of suffering, those emotional and physical pains. Suffering broke the spirit, but it also served as a medicine to cure aforementioned shattering.
Anguish, despair, longing, and pain were examples of the torments brought forth by suffering; cries and wails voicing the torture of suffering.
It was suffering that broke many, yet suffering was meant to strengthen them.
Surgery, a process of alteration and change, was an example of the bearer of suffering as well as the tool to cleanse one after suffering.
Surgery was what the world needed, and suffering followed in its wake.
Sins made suffering a justifiable tool to reform the corrupt, and the choice of acceptance of said suffering was given. Their is no escape from suffering, there never is and never will be a way out of facing the Door of Truth.
Compassion, however, is also given with the bringing of suffering. Compassion was the expression of caring and love towards all despite their crimes. Compassion for the corrupt, who choose to learn or resist the truth. Compassion is given because all the corrupt are loved, and suffering is a means to bring them to the Door of Truth for purification.
The stallion stood, amber-brown eyes glistening in the torrent of snow, which – to him – was the coldest example of pure cleansing. Snow was frozen water, and water was a universal solvent. Water cleaned – purged – the disease that corrupted the world.
As the stallion stood, waiting, he uttered his name into the winds, "Purgatio Torrent."
As these words rang in his ears, he turned and began trotting towards the alleyways, where he knew she would lay in wait.
A unicorn mare lay on the filth-strewn floor, a tattered cloak loosely draped over her brilliant azure coat. Her cloak, like her mane of pale cornflower blue with pale cerulean and coat, was drenched from her ceaseless, empty wanderings in the snow-coated lands. Such an article of clothing or dressing adornment, once fabulous and magnificent, now served as little warmth to protect the fading mare from the dreary environment she chose as her resting place.
She hoped to die, to end her existence full of despair and longing. She was suffering, and now desired release.
Purgatio knew of another fate for this mare – one of glee and happiness rather than torment in the fear of being shunned and despised by all ponykind. She would not be rejected, she would be loved as a friend...
"Trixie Lulamoon," the stallion spoke, stepping towards the slumped mare. His tinted honey eyes met her glistening spheres of fading dark violet orbs. He crouched to the alleyway grounds, staring into her eyes with a sympathetic compassion and understanding, "Why do you lie here in the blistering cold?"
"This is where my journey ends, I suppose. A worthy final resting place for the Great and Powerful Trixie." (pokeking95's "These Are the Last Words I'll Ever Speak)
The shattered mare closed her eyes, tired of the life she was living and the world around her.
The stallion lowered his head in sorrow at her words, "Is there truly no hope left?"
Trixie Lulamoon, former showmare, lay her head against the alleyway wall, not looking at the stallion as she responded with a mournful whimper, "What hope is left for me?"
The stallion shook his head, earnestly pleading for the dying star to reconsider, "There is hope, Miss Lulamoon! You still have a future ahead of you, one where you are happy–"
"There is no happiness left for me," Trixie weakly protested, her closed eyes unable to hide the forming drops reflecting her sorrows as she reminisced her past, seeing all the fond and woeful memories flash before her, a chronological playback of the short life she would soon leave.
"She saw her shattered dreams and ruined future.
She saw fear and disgust and hate.
She saw pain.
She saw regret.
She saw lonliness.
And she saw..." (pokeking95's "These Are the Last Words I'll Ever Speak")
The stallion slumped to the trash-strewn grounds of Trixie's resting spot, draping a hoof over hershaking shoulders as the tears began to flow. Trixie let out a shuttering gasp, opening her eyes both at the realization of herself beginning to cry as well as the stranger of a stallion now comforting her. There was a surprising warmth radiating from him, one which she could not help but to snuggle into.
"I know life has been a twisted journey for you, Miss Lulamoon," the stallion again attempted to reason with the weeping tatters of a once proud illusionist, "but I know it does not have to end this way. There is a bright future awaiting you if you strive past the past; push for the future, and I am certain there will be joys to come. Please, ... do not give up just because of past deeds and others' jeering rejections."
Trixie sobbed, the past and present colliding as one around her.
A future...
A life...
Peace...
"Help me..." started the unicorn mare before a bout of coughs wracked her feeble frame with waves of agony as she hacked and wheezed. Her heart throbbed with a stabbing pain coursing throughout her as she wretched in the pain.
The stallion quickly rose, helping the broken body and fading soul atop his back and barrel, where she sank into with frightening ease and little strength to maintain herself. Crimson drops left her cracked lips, flecks of the life fluid dotting the floor and walls as a thin streak of the substance ran down her chin and across her cheeks.
"Hush," the stallion cooed soothingly. "Peace shall come soon..."