//------------------------------// // A Day In The Life // Story: Libero // by Discombobulated Soul //------------------------------// In a largely peaceful principality, within a mostly uneventful town, inside an unassuming house, in a heavily locked room, a young stallion began his morning routine. He was unusual among his kind, as far as appearances go, even despite the bright technicolor and nonchalant magical use of said kind. This youth had an unfortunate tendency to stick out in a crowd, although that was due not entirely to his physique. Pure white forelegs trampled the air in the usual panic, and he fell gracelessly off his bare mattress, unpigmented mane swishing ever so slightly, as if it too was afraid of drawing unwanted attention. Knight, that being his surname, searched the room in a desperate state of alarm. His hooves scraped against the wood floor, taking his body to the middle of it as his eyes frantically scanned the deepest recesses of the chamber. Light flooded it by use of his magic on the switch designed to provide luminescence. The room was spartan, to say the least, barren of any furnishing save the lone mattress__which was unclothed by sheets of any kind__and the rather simple locked door. The only other quality worthy of mention was the cemented-off section of the wall that might once have been a closet. Still, Knight's snow-white eyes relentlessly scoured the area, ensuring the walls, floor, and ceiling were free of any irregularities. Finally satisfied that nothing had been changed while he slept, he turned his attention to the mattress. Horn igniting with a glum grey glow, he lifted the bed and revealed the numerous keys underneath. Darkest--that being the first part of his name--retrieved said items of unsealing and set to work on the door. It was, as said earlier, quite a plain one, rather resembling a solid slab of grainy wood. Darkest regarded the door with acute fondness and the various locks with an even more penchant expression. Steeling himself for the inevitable icy stab of anxiety, Darkest began his work on the first lock. Come now, you simply cannot remain stolidly in your room all day. He quite forcibly thought to himself. Darkest had to fight constantly to still his twitching limbs, rapid breathing, and most bothersome of all, his flickering, near disobedient magic trying to change to a different, more comfortable spell. Finally, after a few minutes of struggle, the first lock was undone and Darkest took a moment to breathe. This pause was necessary, as it was then that the expected rush of incredulous thoughts from the deepest parts of his mind arrived. What're you doing? You're safe in here! You know exactly what's lurking on the other side! HE's here! HE's waiting for you! Don't go out to HIM! Darkest knew, intellectually, that every last one of these words was false. He knew--or at very least had reasonable cause to believe--that there was no one else in the house. Finally, he knew for a fact that he was not completely safe anywhere, of that there could be no doubt. Still, after so many years of the same status quo, such a transition would be jarring for anypony. Finally, Darkest returned his gaze to the door and resumed his undoing of the locks. The first one was always the worst, but after that it was usually relatively calm until he opened the door. That was how it usually worked, but as Darkest made use of the keys he noticed a lingering and growing sense of grim dread. Unable to push it aside, he did his best to accept the feeling and move on until finally- Somepony's there. Knight immediately leaped back, not noticing his screeching wail as he bounded across the room and scrabbled onto his mattress in a blind panic. Curling into a tight fetal position, Knight tensed every muscle in his body in preparation for what he knew would happen. He could already feel the primal, arcane energies gathering around his horn, tracing familiar fine-tuned paths through his thaumatic pathways. Ready to cast the spell that was nearly as comfortable as breathing, he opened his panic-filled white eyes to find a direction to cast it, only to discover... ...Nopony... Knight took several heaving breaths, his muscles already loosening, the arcane power centered in his horn slowly dying away. But somepony could be in the house. Knight stiffly dropped from the mattress and crept gingerly to the doorway. Beyond there was a modest landing and a door leading to a rather small bathroom, with stairs heading down. Being sure to leave the door open as an escape route, he began methodically searching the landing, much like he did to his room earlier. After several minutes of finding nothing out of place, he moved on to the bathroom. It was quite minuscule, barely big enough for an adult to turn around in, though that wasn't a problem for Knight. The room possessed nothing more than a toilet and sink--it was likely designed for late-night bathroom emergencies, being just outside the bedroom. Although that was hardly a problem for Knight. He searched this room with similar dedication, paying extra attention to the curves of the sink and irregularities in the tile. Finally satisfied after once again finding nothing unusual, Darkest attempted to force himself to calm down. He lay on the cool tile and slowed his breathing to a more acceptable tempo. Opening the door is always the worst part. With most of his muscles relaxed, he rose and began turning to the door, but stopped when he caught his reflection in the mirror. Pale white, snow-white, achromatic, alabaster, nacreous. Darkest Knight caught himself drifting and focused more clearly on his reflection. The same ever-vigilant, eternally scared white eyes stared back. The same ruffled, unbrushed white coat was there, covering his body. The very same unkempt, unloved mane and tail still reflected that exact white color. Yes, Darkest's coloration was rather comparable to a polar bear in a snowstorm. It is perfect for hiding the scars. Darkest grimaced. Not that HE would find that necessary in the first place. Unable to simply shake off the bad memories, Darkest decided to move on with his day, though he couldn't help but notice that that same feeling of grim dread was only growing. There was something, he decided, that his subconscious knew, or perhaps remembered, that he was not privy to. Nevertheless, Darkest began his trip down the stairs and into the rest of the house, his hoofsteps noticeably more confident than before. That quickly changed once he reached the bottom, even though he hadn't encountered anything of note. After all, he had not searched the downstairs yet, so who knew what could be down here. Darkest felt the scared thoughts and temptations building up inside him, putting an uncomfortable pressure on his mind. He was barely able to suppress them enough to function, dismissing the arcane energy that had built up by habit. He shook his head, breathed, and trotted into the kitchen. The dread increased significantly as he made his way over to the refrigerator, hoping for an early breakfast, and it climaxed as he opened the door with a flick of his magic. Empty. The word described the feeling in his gut as well as the current state of the fridge. Darkest checked the nearby pantry as well and found that word an apt descriptor for it also. After observing the calendar on the pantry wall, he finally understood his dread. Saturday. he thought. Oh, by Celestia, it is Saturday. It was on this day that the market was busiest, but the prices were also at their lowest. Darkest had found early on that it was only on this day that he could afford enough food to sustain himself, and so had made it the day he went for groceries. Darkest staggered out of the pantry and soon stumbled over his own legs, sprawling out over the kitchen floor. Come now, you have done this before. Why, you shopped quite admirably at the bazaar just last week! He weakly stood and wobbled across the kitchen floor, onto the carpeted living room flooring, and collapsed against the front door. Darkest only allowed himself a few minutes to prepare before he stood up and faced the barrier between his place of relative familiarity, if not safety, and the great unknown. No, that is foolish. I know exactly what is behind this door. I will see my street, then my neighbors' houses, then the cobblestone path heading deeper into Ponyville. Using these thoughts to steady himself, He pushed past the hesitation and paranoia to open the door before he could truly consider what he was doing. Oh, right. I locked it. Blast. Igniting his horn once again, Darkest sent his magic to the one remaining key in his room. As it was levitated back to him, he could feel the very slight discomfort of the simplest cantrip a unicorn could learn on his horn. The spell rubbed his fine-tuned arcane matrix the wrong way, lightly irritated his mana pool on the way out, and ran contrary to his established ley patterns. It was altogether significantly less comfortable than his preferred spell. Still, at least I can cast it. As the key approached the heavy padlock, Darkest tensed his body in preparation. In one short burst, he opened the padlock, then the door, and hurriedly stepped outside, closing it behind him. Of course, this caused his legs to immediately seize up in terror as his subconscious caught up. Knight turned and scrabbled at the door frantically, but he'd already re-locked it from the inside. In his panic, Knight was unable to force his magic along the necessary uncomfortable pathways to unlock it from the outside. Due to this, Knight immediately galloped straight onto the street, searching frenetically for a connecting alley. Luckily, Ponyville was full of alleys--the unplanned nature of the construction allowed for many unforeseen nooks and crannies--and it was not long before Knight was able to leap into the shadow of a building and catch his breath. He was not fit by any means, you see, and was in fact rather small for his age, so such exertions were quite taxing. Luckily, or perhaps not, he was used to such things, and recovered with admirable speed. When observing his surroundings--though not with near the thoroughness of earlier--revealed no danger, Darkest slumped against the wall in short-lived relief before shaking his head in disgust. Come now, can I not leave my abode in a controlled manner, just on one instance? Shaking the tension out of his body much like a dog would dry itself, Darkest strode out the familiar alcove with his head held as high as instinct would permit--which was to say about level with his shoulders--and a determined wince adorning his face. Though not before grabbing the concealed bit-purse from that selfsame alley and slinging it around his neck. As Darkest headed along the road he noticed the first rays of dawn peeking over the horizon and smiled ever so slightly. Three hours. Thought he. That is a new record. Though with those selfsame beams of light a realization dawned on his apt subconscious. They're waking up. That is a good thing! Firmly announced Darkest from within his mental landscape as he unlocked his legs and slowed his breathing. That means that the market will be open soon, and I can purchase my necessities all the earlier. He continued on his not-so-merry way, proud of himself for gazing at his emerging neighbors only a few seconds, rather than the usual minute or so. Instinctual anxiety aside, Darkest felt more at ease around them just then than he ever had in the past--his heart rate was only twice its regular tempo and his shying away was much less noticeable compared to his other excursions. What was more, they in return were giving him significantly less surprised looks, as though they had grown used to his presence. Darkest even caught a friendly nod from Time Turner as he passed by, and managed a cordial grimace in response. All told, he was feeling much better about the ongoing excursion. Mayhap I will not even require a break in an attached alley! Darkest kept up this cheerful disposition all the way through Ponyville and as he crested the small hill in the path before the dip that was town square, the usual stab of anxiety and terror at seeing so many ponies was reduced to a mere tightening in posture, rather than a panic-powered dive into the nearest alley. It used to be a lot harder, reflected Darkest as he unadroitly walked down to the square, legs stiff as a board and tail clamped firmly between his legs, I recall flinching at every sudden flash of light and cowering inside one of my barriers as I slowly starved to death. That was before I learned that the outside world plays by a different set of rules entirely than the place I was raised. Darkest's slight smile grew as he approached the first stall, passing several exiting ponies who had already purchased their goods. I'm so glad I got out of that place. It then promptly dropped right away as though harshly chastised, replaced by a preemptive flinch befitting one of his status when he reached the front. If only there was not so much social interaction. "Hiya! Mighty fine day we're having today, ain't it? What can ah get for ya?" An excruciating feeling of grinding pain and horrendous agony tore at Darkest's ears at that simple exclamation. He knew it was most definitely not her fault, but such a way of speaking existed in complete defiance of everything he had been forced to learn. He almost couldn't think due to the barrage of improper, casual speech, let alone comprehend the harsh sounds of her greeting. Her redundant use of the word 'day', the foreign word she utilized so lackadaisically between 'today' and 'it', neither of which begun to mention the heavy mincing of her words. It was as though they were coming to him through some filter, thoroughly distorting their sound to the point that he could scarcely salvage their meaning. All of it combined to convert her words into a nearly indecipherable mess. Luckily, this was not the first time Darkest had encountered this manner of speech, and due entirely to practice he was able to muster up a reply. "Quite indeed, I felt that the sun cresting over the distant and distinct sierra this day was especially pulchritudinous." Deep emerald eyes squinted at him slightly, and what Darkest thought to be a puzzled expression dominated her face before a sudden look of recognition replaced it. "Ah know you! Yer that fancy-talkin' feller who comes 'round every week!" A slight grimace that might in some demented foal's mind resemble a smile overtook his face at the recognition. He had hoped to remain below notice, but it seemed those days were over. "Yes, I believe that would be me. To answer your antecedent inquiry," he fidgeted, lightly gripping the ground and excavating a small depression, "I would very much appreciate your magnanimousness in allowing me to purchase a dozen or so examples of your resplendent produce." She tilted her head in slight befuddlement, causing her curly orange mane to shift to the left. "So... ya wanna buy some carrots then?" Clenching his teeth to bear the pain of her speech, Darkest nodded shyly. This caused her to brighten, and with an "alrighty then!" she began bagging her produce. "Ya know, ponies around here ain't usually interested in the raw carrots. 'Shucks, they're usually interested in mah home-baked carrot cake'n other such delectable treats." She raised a pale lime hoof to her chin, eyes rolling up in a thoughtful expression. "Shoot, yer actually the only local pony ah cain think of that likes ta buy 'em." Her emerald orbs fixated back on Darkest as she quirked an eyebrow. "Y'sure ya don' want mah famous carrot cake?" Darkest shook his head slightly before opening his muzzle, lightly kicking himself for stuttering. "N-nay, good madame, I believe I shall have to rebuff your offer. How much for the carrots?" This was a phrase that Darkest had heard a lot around the market. It had greatly assisted his attempts to learn the concept of currency. Apparently, there were these things called 'bits' that could be exchanged for goods at varying amounts. He had had to take up a 'job' so to work and thus 'earn' these bits. The market lingo appeared a language all to its own for Darkest, but by staying low and keeping attentive ears to his surroundings--something he had been instinctively doing for as long as he could remember--he had been able to learn the basic principles. She shrugged dismissively. "Six bits fer'a dozen of Equestria's finest carrots. Som'a tha biggest ones from this season, too." He lightened his expression in appreciation as he levitated exactly seven bits from the purse around his neck. He soon after placed them on the ledge that acted as the divider between them. The carrot farmer raised an inquisitive eyebrow as she slid the bag and a single bit over the edge, with him catching it reflexively in his magic. "Say, ah never got yer name, pardner. Ah'm Carrot Top!" She held out a hoof expectantly. Darkest instinctively flinched back before blinking rapidly. "Indeed not." He agreed, thoroughly puzzled and no longer only mildly scared. Carrot Top merely rolled her hoof as though expecting something. His gaze traveled from her hovering hoof to the bits on the counter to her grinning countenance and back a few times before a sudden realization entered his brain. "You are asking for my name?" At her nod, he exhaled in mild relief, lowering his raised hind leg and murmuring in a small, shy voice. "Darkest Knight. T-that's what my name is." His face immediately turned downcast at the confession, though Carrot hardly seemed to notice. Instead, she recoiled in moderate surprise, placing her unused foreleg back under her. "'Darkest'? Don't that seem silly to ya? Ah mean, yer whiter than mah ma when she realized we'd missed our shipment date by ah year! Now is that a story all right! Don' worry though, 'tall turned out all right, it did..." The rest of the most assuredly captivating story was lost as Darkest hurriedly fled the vicinity, produce and single rejected bit in tow. The brutal butchering of his buffer-less ears had finally overwhelmed him. He simply could not handle the way she spoke for a prolonged amount of time and knew he needed a break before the next purchase. Fleeing town square, he collapsed in the first alley he saw, thankfully escaping the notice of the townsponies. The rain in Spain stays mainly in the plains. The words were a constant mantra he repeated to himself. They were meaningless, of course--there was no place in Equestria called Spain, and if the rain were to stay in the plains there, it would have to be controlled by pegasi. Still, the nonsense helped to ground him and remove the burning images of a metal rod assisting in the correction of his speech from the forefront of his mind. Mayhap I am not ready for this venture to-day, thought Darkest with a self-loathing scowl adorning his face. Just the apples. He decided, setting forth to continue the harrowing journey, against his better judgment. I shall just need the apples to sustain myself over the next week. He checked the purse and counted six bits remaining. That's plenty. And so with a resolute nod Darkest re-entered the town square and immediately set off for the apple stand. The unicorn was just barely able to see the top of it over the heads of the adults surrounding him. Corralling him. Cornering him. Each about to brandish their hidden method of subduing. Each was ready and waiting to strike. To take him back to Canterlot. Back to pain. Torment. Danger! Danger! HIDE NOW! HIDENOWHIDENOWHI- No, that is foolish. Just barely able to dismiss the arcane energy from his horn, Darkest uncurled from his fetal position. He speedily retrieved his fallen goods and saw only one concerned stare from a flower pony who, luckily enough, seemed to decide not to investigate. Having resumed his trot towards the apple stall, Darkest found himself wearing the first genuine smile of that week. It is getting easier. He was even able to maintain that grin all the way up to the apple stall, where it promptly fell away once more. "Howdy, pardner! Fancy yerself a bucket o' the finest apples this side o' Equestria? We bucked a little too much this season, so we're sellin' 'em at a lower price too!" She winked her forest-green eyes good-naturedly, plainly not meaning the latter remark to be taken seriously. Then, she stared expectantly down at him and squinted. "Say, yer not too much bigger than mah lil' sis, Applebloom. How old are ya, lil' guy?" As with Carrot Top, the orange mare's manner of speech was equally agonizing. With his hind legs already shaking with anxiety and teeth clenched as much as they physically could, Darkest decided to end this interaction as expeditiously as possible. In efforts to satisfy this mission, he replied with a succinct answer, all in one burst. "Yes indeed, I am in need of your exceedingly palatable produce, how many bits do you require in recompense, and I so happen to be around sixteen years of age by mine own reckoning." She stood there blinking for a few seconds before retrieving a bucket of apples from behind her and placing it on the ground in front of him. "That's five bits." She said, seeming a tad put off by Darkest's hasty reply. He couldn't care less, needing to vacate the area as soon as mortally possible lest he freak out then and there, tearing up the town square. He hurriedly placed down the remaining bits in his purse, levitated the bucket next to his bag of carrots, and galloped straight out of the market as if chased by the deepest spawn of Tartarus. Darkest finally rested in an alley about halfway back to his home, legs shaking with more than just fatigue and breathing heavy with the weight of his terror and pain. He closed his white eyes and once again slowed his breathing, ears swiveling and nose flaring as he focused solely on sounds and smells. The smell of fresh produce was most prevalent. It was an unfamiliar one that he had not ever encountered in his life before coming here. The quiet whirling sound of his magic was conversely a sensation he was quite familiar with. Even now, as he tuned into his magical senses he could feel the mana trying constantly to run along the proper course; to become the spell he had spent his whole life mastering. It was a struggle to do anything else with his magic. The slight whisper of the breeze traveling through the thatched roofing of the house Darkest currently held his back against was a calming cadence that served only to ground him further. The quaint style of the houses of this town in general was one of the things that attracted him to it in the first place: They were so different from the towering spires of agony and the menacing manors of marbled malice which made up Canterlot. More importantly, they were new, unlike anything he had ever witnessed before, much like the ponies who acted and talked in complete defiance of everything Darkest knew. And if he concentrated, he could almost hear the pitter-patter of rain, somewhere distant and indistinct. It was a light pounding sonance that seemed to wax in intensity as time flowed on. Darkest had always loved the rain: Its continual noise was one of very few reliable things in his turbulent life, and generally a good representation of his mood. He often engrossed himself in choosing a favored droplet of lustrous splendor among its comrades and cheering the propitious pearlescent particle onwards in its race to the bottom of his window. Darkest even occasionally used his magic to assist the chosen drop on its odyssey downwards, just so he could have control over one thing in his life, even something so pitiful. Darkest's grin faded slowly into nothing due to a combination of the bad memories and the dawning realization that the sounds were not, in fact, raindrops. Those are hoofbeats. His white eyes snapped open, black pupils shrinking in shock. Multiple sets as well. Darkest set down his things and peeked his head out of the alley, immediately spotting ponies approaching him at a gallop, illuminated by the noonday sun. Wingbeats also. He turned his gaze upward, revealing a pair of pegasi, both wielding spears in their forelegs, also soon to arrive at his location. No, that's not right... "Somepony!" Darkest's horn flared to life, illuminating the alley with a lively slate grey glow. A chase. "Stop that thief!" The mare had scarcely finished her call for help when the slightest ripple traveled through the fabric of reality, so faint as to be undetectable to all but the most powerful of beings. Darkest's magic seemed all too happy to finally enact what it had been wanting to do all day. Mana raced eagerly along the well-worn thaumaturgic paths entwined throughout his body. Arcane power rushed forth into his horn, finally allowed to travel along its preferred way. An outsider would only see a simple grey glow around it, but Darkest could feel the immense power being commanded, guided through the various layers of reality like a reluctant foal through the doors of his new home. A transparent, pewter-colored sphere snapped into place around the runaway pony within the space of a slow, disdainful blink. The startled thief skidded across the ground in a classic braking maneuver, but was unable to cease his momentum in time. The stallion bashed his forehead rather speedily against the inside of the barrier, dropping the purse from his muzzle in the process. The pursuers--an earth pony mare and a unicorn stallion--ground to a halt on either side of the orb, looking rather bollixed over the new situation. "H-hello?" the mare said haltingly, her dark cerulean eyes roving the area around her in search of the cause of such intervention. Darkest shuffled out of the alley, a meek expression adorning his face and a submissive posture dominating his stature. The mare's eyes instantly landed on his heavily distinguishable white coat. The stallion spoke first, however: "Good sir, did you happen to do...er...." He gestured vaguely at the silver sphere "...this?" Darkest was only able to nod hesitantly, afraid of the consequences of interfering even despite the cry for help from earlier. He nervously eyed the now-descending pegasi as they repositioned themselves just above the ball. They lightly prodded at it with their spears while equipped with ponderous expressions across their faces. The stallion inside was currently pounding at the inner wall, though his vigorous strikes had absolutely no effect. The mare spoke next, her voice light in gratitude compared to her earlier desperation. "Well, thanks a lot! This little bugger made off with a whole month of my shop's earnings, so it would've been rough if you hadn't swooped in!" A harsh cracking sound caused the three of them to flinch and look up at one of the two pegasi. He held a snapped spear in his hooves rather sheepishly; it seemed he had tired of the light prodding and quite foolishly thrust completely at the shield with full force. Darkest was just glad he had not hurt himself in attempting to injure it. Said unicorn finally worked up the courage to speak, stilling his trembling enough to vocalize his words properly, as he had been taught. "Well, it was a pleasure to serve you, good madame and company." At a flare of his horn, the orb moved directly upwards at a steady rate, carrying the hapless stallion and a portion of the cobblestoned path with it while leaving a depression in the ground. "Now, if you would like to prepare yourselves to subdue the criminal, I should like to release him into your custody and be on my merry way." Observing the pegasi and unicorn that made up the town guard ready themselves, he with a flash of his horn dispelled the borrowed matter back to its home and thus removed the barrier from reality. Leaving the ponies to their business and swiftly retrieving his belongings, Darkest expeditiously fled the scene, pumping his stiff legs in a swift canter. He slowed after reaching what he felt was a reasonable distance away, yet opted not to take another break. The day had been long and strenuous, so there was no need to further lengthen it. I have nearly arrived. Thought he as his hooves took the first steps on the path leading to his chosen place of residence. Darkest was ready to collapse on his empty mattress, shovel what scant sustenance he had been able to procure into his malnourished gut and turn in to get what little rest could be afforded one of his position. Though, naturally, he had not let his guard down even the slightest fraction, and so was able to pick up the springing sound the moment it became audible. Unfortunately, that did not help much, due to a combination of his tiredness and the utter speed with which the pink menace moved. Darkest abruptly found himself nose to nose with a pair of baby blue eyes, at the corners of which he could observe the ends of a bright smile. "HIYA! I'msogladIfinallytrackedyoudownbecauseI'vebeensearchingforweeksandhaven'tfoundyouanywhere! It'slikeyouneverleaveyourhouseorsomethingbutthat'ssillybecausenoponystaysintheirhousethatmuchandifyoudidit'dmakeyousuperdupersadandthatwouldmakemesadandthenwe'dallbesadandthat'sbadbecauseweshouldbehappyinstead! Y'know what I mean?" If Carrot Top's manner of speech had been excruciating, this was pure torment to his ears. Darkest could not even hope to process a singular gleaning of fathomable information from among her noise. The utter catastrophe that was the din springing from this mare's mouth was as a demented fountain of slander bursting from the earth and showering the planet with its filth. Naturally, he found himself completely unable to offer anything in reply, and simply stumbled away from the violently pink abomination in pure shock. "Oh, but look at me, I'm rambling again! Anyway, now that I've finally found you, we can get started planning your happy-welcome-to-Ponyville party! Even though it's a little late, that's no excuse not to have a rockin' fun time, RIGHT?" His legs grew too weak under him and he promptly collapsed to the ground in a quivering heap under the merciless assault. Little did poor naive Pinkie Pie know, Darkest was guaranteed not to have a 'rockin' fun' time.