//------------------------------// // N1 — Shade // Story: Where Only Silver Shines // by Etyco Filly //------------------------------// I was sitting a dozen paces away from the cliff. The pull of the abyss was weak today, but after yesterday… I wouldn’t risk it. I sighed. Mum did so much to keep me safe and fed. Her life was much harder than mine, yet she was always smiling. And I repaid her by lazing around all day and occasionally wondering what it was like to not exist. How much more pathetic could— “Excuse me,” said a filly’s voice. I turned my head around to face a dark pink earth pony and a grey… pegasus? Never imagined I’d meet one. They were about the same height as each other—that is to say, almost a head shorter than me. The young mare was around my age; in her early fifties, while the stallion was perhaps four or five years older. Both sat in that difficult-to-define gap between adolescence and adulthood. “We had questions about life in the prisons,” she continued. “Questions about life in the prisons…?” I repeated absentmindedly. I shook my stupor out of my head. “What? Why?” Who the Hades was she? “Well, neither of us has really seen the insides of one, and we were curious.” Then, it hit me. Neither of them wore a bulky prisoner collar, not even a juvenile one like mine. The stallion wore a plain collar made out of some shiny white metal, but it had no handles for chains to hook into. It looked almost… decorational. Meanwhile, the young mare didn’t even have a collar on. Anger built in the pit of my stomach, but as it bubbled up, I swallowed it back down. “Have you…” I hesitated, trying to come up with the right words, before abandoning it and saying the first thing that came to mind. “Have you come here to laugh at us?” I winced at the bluntness of the question. Her ears folded, and she opened her mouth, only for the colt to cut her off. He stepped towards me, wings flaring. “No, that ain’t right! We just… I heard things weren’t well down here, and I didn’t want to close me eyes and pretend like nothing’s wrong.” His accent reminded me of that of one older prisoner mare. Where did she say she came from, again? Spurringham? He frowned. “I s’pose that makes us sound like we’re just here to gawk at your lives, and I’m sorry for that.” He pawed at the dusty rock beneath our hooves. “I just feel guilty about livin’ up there where it’s safe, while others don’t have such luck.” An awkward chuckle escaped my lips. Maybe I’d overreacted just a little. They weren’t bad ponies, that much was clear. Judging by the scars on the stallion’s neck, he too hadn’t had the easiest of foalhoods. While the mare’s coat was a lot more pristine than his, her face showed only curiosity with no disdain or contempt at all. A rich filly, genuinely interested in our lives? And here I was, nearly snapping at her. I sighed. “I’m sorry for accusing you. It’s just been a rough few years for me. I’m Nightshade, by the way, but everypony just calls me Shade.” Except Mum, she called me Night. The mare gave me what could only be described as a polite smile. She nodded. “Avens, and it is I who should be sorry. It did not cross my mind how rude my approach could appear.” “It’s alright.” I forced a smile as well. When he saw my expectant look, the stallion said, “I’m Silverstring, pleasure to meet ya.” Avens gently cleared her throat. “Is this a bad time for you? We can find somepony else to talk to; we would hate to impose.” I shook my head. “No, I could use the distraction.” Her ears perked up while her expression grew a tiny amount more genuine. “So, if I may ask, how is life here? We have looked around and gathered a general idea of what goes on, but Silver seems to think it is a lot worse than it really is.” Silver grimaced; his ears twitched and his tail flicked. “Don’t act like I’m overreactin’. The prisoners are forced to work all day. That ain’t right!” His harsh tone made Avens wince, but she quickly recovered. “Do you believe a peasant living off the land is free?” Silver tried to reply, but Avens cut him off, “No, she is not. If she stops working, she will starve. She cannot change professions, or relocate, unless she has stockpiled significant wealth.” She looked him in the eye, but he averted his gaze. “You and your family may be free to live anywhere with wild animals and monsters to hunt, and plant life to forage, but not everypony is as lucky.” She paused for a moment, allowing Silver’s mind to catch up. Meanwhile, I remained quiet, interested in their dynamic. What kind of pony would have this sort of debate in front of a stranger? Part of me screamed for outrage at her words, but her personality overwhelmed my mind with curiosity. Yet deeper down ran feelings, cold and slimy. I ignored them. What I’d give to have a friend like this… Right as Silver opened his mouth to rebut, Avens continued confidently, “Freedom is not a commodity, Silver. It’s—” “Uh, I dunno what a commodity is. First time hearin’ the word.” I nearly chuckled at Silver’s words. Avens’ gaze softened. “Remind me later. What I am trying to say is that few are the ponies who are free, and none are genuinely so. Even nobles have rules to abide by, lest they lose everything.” She gestured to me with a leg, and I instinctively tapped my own hoof at my chest. “My point being that you cannot quantify happiness when looking at ponies’ lives from the outside. Everypony has problems, and the only way to know is to ask.” Silverstring turned to me with an expectant look on his face. Great, I’d just met the two, but they were already asking me to settle a conflict. Nothing new in the life of Nightshade. I didn’t bother to hold in my sigh as I racked my brain. “I think she’s right, in a way. Life down here sucks, but when you really think about it, there’s no reason to believe getting out of here will magically fix everything. From what I’ve seen, ponies always get used to the situation they live in.” Silver blinked a few times, then tilted his head. “Huh?” A quick glance at Avens confirmed that I’d even caught her off guard by taking her side. With neither of them intent on replying, I continued, “A lot of adults are just as happy as us kids; their lives are so much harder than ours, but it doesn’t stop them from cracking jokes with their friends and—” I shrugged “—I guess, living their lives.” Then there was me; my life was as easy as they came, and I had a great job lined up, yet somehow still managed to be miserable. All because I was too gloomy to ever make a true friend. Whatever, not the time for a stupid pity party. I calmly pulled up the heavy corners of my mouth. “Just because they treat us like cattle does not mean we should be miserable.” “How… How can you be so positive about this?” asked Silver, still shocked. I shrugged. “It’s just like Mum taught me. She always says happiness doesn’t come from your surroundings, that it comes from within and from your friends. That if you can’t be happy in a tent, you can’t be happy in a mansion.” I stretched my smile further, looking him in the eye. He was handsome, way out of the league of somepony like me. Not because I lived in a prison, nor because of my looks. No, the problem lay with my brick-like personality. The muscles in my cheek burned with effort. Avens nodded solemnly, and the three of us stared at each other for a few seconds. To my surprise, Silver eventually returned my smile. His was small, uncertain and rueful, but it was genuine. “Look, this might be a bit weird, but are you okay? You seem kinda sad.” Way to go, Shade. Just met him, and he already knows you’re insufferably gloomy. Why was I like this? I was lucky to be alive, so why couldn’t I just be happy? I broke my pity party with another awkward chuckle. “I’m just a bit lonely, that’s all. Don’t worry about me.” His face brightened until his eyes shone with a brilliant glint. “Well, we could keep ya company, at least for today. What do you say, Keep?” “I suppose it would be all right. I—” She snapped her head at him. “I told you to call me Avens in public.” Her glare was met with Silver’s sheepish grin. “Oops?” Avens—or was it Keep?—sighed, shaking her head. Despite her frustration, a small smile crept its way onto her lips. “No matter. I doubt Shade here would use that information against me.” That was a lot of faith to put in somepony like me. Then again, I had no idea how to even exploit it. Maybe that was why she didn’t care. Turning to face me, she said, “I apologise for lying about my name earlier. I am Keeper. Book Keeper.” Odd name. “It’s… alright, I guess.” I didn’t like her, because I had a bad feeling about her, but she was willing to be nice. Giving her a chance was the least I could do. I had no reason to dislike her, after all, except for that ugly jealousy at the bottom of my heart. “If I may ask, why are you lonely? We saw many other foals on our way through the prison.” What was this, an interview? I thought I had those behind me now? “I was the youngest in my friend group, so when the last one, Andesite, left, a few years ago, I was alone. He was the second youngest, and the two of us were happy just talking to each other. We never really befriended anypony else, truth be told. Without him, I’m stuck sitting here alone, contemplating life.” Hating life. “The only ponies I get to talk to are Mum’s friends. They’re nice, but they don’t get me.” Neither did Andesite, really, but he at least pretended. Keeper frowned, biting her lip. “I’m sorry to hear that, though I must ask… why don’t you try and befriend the other foals?” I shook my head. “They… they don’t like me. I’ll be transferring over to the upper layer in three weeks, I can take it.” Silver perked up. “Well, duh, because they don’t know you yet. I barely know you, and I already like you, so I’m sure they’ll wanna be your friends.” His smile would have made me blush, were it not for the painful memories resurfacing. “No, they know me. They just… they really don’t like me. The only time anypony talks to me is when something is troubling them, but they always take great care to not be seen with me.” I was nothing but a shade in the night, always listening, but never to be heard or seen. Silver blinked a few times, then tilted his head. “Huh?” He shook himself out of it. “But why? You seem lovely. I mean, if they don’t wanna talk to you, I’ll do it. I can’t guarantee we’ll become friends, but I do like talking to you so far.” Yet again, I almost blushed. Or perhaps I did. “It’s a long story…” I looked away, finding sudden interest in a pile of nearby rocks. “I’d be glad to talk to you more, though.” Why? So he could lay all his worries on me while I listened? What was the point of talking to him? Why was I allowing myself hope? “Hey Shade, look at me.” Reluctant, I did as told and found myself staring into his bright, fuchsia eyes. “If we’re gonna try to be friends, then you might as well open up, no?” He turned to Keeper. “And we have all day, don’t we, Keep?” She nodded. “I would not be opposed to befriending you either. It might be obvious, but I do not have many friends.” A mild blush shone through the mulberry fur of her cheeks, her expression adorably flustered. Good thing I had given her a chance; she truly was not a bad pony. “I…” I sighed, letting myself fall on my rump. “Fine. Long story short, I got a filly killed. My best friend, Granite. I really wanted to play in one of the caves because—” A scowl crept up on my face “—it was cool or whatever. There was a cave-in, she died, and I lived.” There. Bandage ripped off. It barely hurt at all. Biting my cheek, I was able to hold in the tears. Silver’s and Keeper’s smiles fell, and it was the former who spoke up first, “That sucks, but it ain’t like you meant for that to happen.” His smile returned, gentle and fragile as a soap bubble. “You were just a foal, weren’t you? It’s a heavy burden to bear, but it was just an accident.” Tears threatening to well up, I bit my cheek harder. Damn it. “That’s not what her parents thought…” One more bandage to rip off. I had to be strong. “They wanted to teach me a lesson, to get their revenge. But Mum was stronger. They were both unicorns, and Mum’s an earth pony.” I gulped, meeting my new friends’ expectant gazes. The words weighed so very heavy in my throat. “She… she beat them both to death in the middle of the village.” They wanted to know? Now they did. They’d hate me like everypony else. Then, I’d be rid of them. Good thing I hadn’t allowed myself to hope. Keeper averted her gaze, pawing at the ground, ears folded. Silver stared at me, jaw agape and eyes wide. He blinked a few times before finally regaining his bearings. “Fuck. I’m really sorry to hear that. I thought you were exaggerating at first, but I can kinda understand now. Maybe we’ll just stick to the three of us, then.” I stared at him for a few quiet beats of my heart before my mind caught on to what he’d said. “Really?” I nigh whispered. He gave a gentle nod, and Keeper shrugged. Finally meeting my eyes, she said, “It isn’t any of my business, really. I wonder, though, does everypony give you trouble, or is it just the foals? I imagine you and your mother must have it tough.” I closed my eyes and shook my head. “A few of the adults were friends with the Rocks. They kinda hold a grudge against Mum, but no one else really cares.” “A grudge?” muttered Silver. “That seems like a very mild way to react to your friends’ deaths.” “Well, they know she’s stronger than most ponies, so taking her down would require more effort than they deem worth. Plus, they don’t wanna get into trouble.” A grim smile crept its way onto my lips. Would I push these ponies away by admitting all this? What if they thought Mum and I were monsters? Keeper hummed in thought. “If I may ask… what kind of trouble are we talking about? How did the warden punish your mother?” Her voice still betrayed nothing but curiosity. I blinked at her, relief and confusion mixing in equal parts. “Three years of doubled shifts. For three years, she did basically nothing but mine and sleep.” They both stared at me, wide-eyed. “It sounds bad, doesn’t it? Yet… I don’t know how, but she didn’t seem to mind. She said it would only make her stronger; woke up every morning with a grin.” “That’s… all?” Silver muttered. “She killed two ponies and all she got was a few years of hard labour? Don’t get me wrong, that sounds as rough as Tartarus, but usually punishment for, you know, murder, is a lot harsher.” Before I could say anything, Keeper did. “What should they do instead? Kill her? I guarantee the ponies who own this prison would just see it as a waste. They can’t really incarcerate her, either. The Tower is already reserved for some of the worst criminals.” She furrowed her brow and added, “No offence to your mother.” I shook my head. “No, no, it’s true. She was a bandit before coming here.” I looked over to Silver, who couldn’t believe his ears. “It makes sense they wouldn’t care so much about prisoner-on-prisoner violence. To them, it’s less about a pony losing her or his life, and more about damaged property.” “And you’re alright with that‽” he nigh shouted. After wincing at his sudden increase in volume, I got myself to shrug. “I don’t like that they see my mum like this, but what can I do? Besides, it would be something different if fillies and colts were treated like this as well. But we aren’t.” He fell quiet for a moment, his ears flattened and his eyes on the ground. He gulped. “How common are prisoner deaths? You make it sound like they’re happenin’ all the time.” “I dunno, one or two every other week? I don’t really pay too much attention to it, but sometimes, somepony comes to me after losing one of their parents.” He spun around to face Keeper. “Didn’t you say they were being kept safe? This is barbaric and evil.” “This is safe, is it not? They are not being overworked except as punishment, and they don’t get attacked by monsters. There isn’t much more that can be done, at least not without losing efficiency.” She tried to keep her tone even, but emotions bled into it nonetheless. A mixture of indignation, anger and… something else. She turned to me. “Tell me, how often do ponies here die from something other than in-fighting?” Thankful for the opportunity to defuse the situation, I took it. “Not very. There are still accidents in the mines, of course.” I frowned as I remembered something I’d heard the day before. “Actually… I think Mum’s friend said something about a string of disappearances? Some kind of monster flying off into the abyss with a pony in its claws?” In hindsight, maybe I shouldn’t be all alone near the outskirts of the island. Silver’s eyes popped wide, his muzzle twisted into a scowl and he snapped, “A string o’ them? How many?” “I don’t know!” I stomped my hoof on the ground. “I told you I don’t pay that much attention to everything around me!” Taken aback by my little outburst, he looked away. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to…” He shook his head. “Nevermind, can we go talk to your mum or her friend?” I tilted my head. “Didn’t you say you just wanted to know what life is like here? Isn’t that going a bit far?” He tapped his collar. “I work with the Captain of the Knights. It’s their job to keep up public order, and if there’s a monster runnin’ rampant and foalnappin’ ponies, then… then I needa tell her.” “Oh, alright.” I shrugged in an attempt to keep calm. He was willing to go to such lengths for some prisoners? That was admirable, but he might think me creepy if I said it. “Mum should know. She’s off her shift in the cell block, about ten minutes on hoof from here.” After exchanging a few more comments, we set off. Chatting idly, we made our way to the village. My usual spot was in one of the quietest places on the entire island, furthest away from the cable cart. When I asked Keeper how she managed to get on the island, I only received cryptic responses. Silver didn’t seem to know either, but we tacitly agreed to drop it. Keeper would tell us eventually, probably. Still, the mystery tickled my curiosity. The entire prison was built on a plateau completely isolated from the rest of The Tower, with only a cable cart crossing the abyss between them, making it impossible for grounded ponies to get in. Since the prison was essentially one long strip, it was nearly impossible to get lost; the wall on the other side of the strip was too tall to ever lose track of. Unfortunately, the thinner parts of the strip forced us to occasionally move closer to the mines. While Keeper speculated that Silver’s collar could keep us out of trouble even if one of the guards noticed us, neither she nor Silver particularly wanted to test that theory. Still, Keeper had to stop Silver from doing something stupid. When one of the mares collapsed from exhaustion, a batpony overseer soon started screaming at her to get back up. Silver would have rushed to her aid, had it not been for Keeper. When we got to the buildings, I was finally able to show off my knowledge of this place. It was a tiny, silly and petty little pleasure, but the way my shortcuts impressed them made me happy. We first had to get through the buildings where prisoners processed ore. I didn’t know much about the procedure, but I knew which parts to avoid to stay out of trouble and danger, since some buildings occasionally had air so hot it could burn a pony alive. Eventually, we reached the village. When we came into hearing range of Mum and her group of friends, I stopped us. “Actually,” I said, “I think it’s better if I ask them. I don't think they’d react very well to you two, even if you’re just trying to help.” I yawned, then shook my head in a vain attempt to stop my eyes from closing on their own. I shouldn’t have stayed up as late to talk with Keeper and Silver. Whenever they visited me, time flew, but I knew I would be busy today, and I should have kept track. How long had I even been waiting here? Hours? Once again, I scanned the room for anything remotely interesting, but it remained the same relatively empty vestibule. For what must have been the hundredth time, my attention landed on the tapestry across me: a brief depiction of The Tower’s history. Batponies chased out of a village. A tall, red-maned mare venturing alone into The Tower. The same mare talking to a crowd of batponies before spreading her wing in invitation. I’d seen a similar tapestry at the prison, but I’d never stopped to take another look. I’d been too busy wasting my life at the edge of a cliff to take interest in anything other than me. I sighed. How pathetic could I be? The door opened, mercifully snapping my string of thought. In walked the grey old stallion who had recruited me all these weeks ago: Dusty Pages. “Sorry, Nightshade. I meant to be back sooner, but somepony mixed up the quantities for the pickaxe order, and—” He shook his head. “Nevermind all that. Let us talk in my study.” Before I could even stand up, the door opened again, revealing a panting maroon batpony mare in her nineties. “Finally…” She swallowed, before taking a few moments to catch her breath. “The guard said you wanted to speak to me, Dusty. Is it about my report?” Dusty nodded. “Good morning, Granite. We can talk when I’m done explaining the basics of her job to Nightshade here.” Thus, the mare finally noticed me, scanning my body. “She the new errand-filly?” “She is.” He gave her a flat look. “If you ever waste her time by having her fetch your booze, or if you ever try to bed her, I will tell your husband what really happened at the last Blood Moon Festival.” The mare’s tail flicked, and she tisked. “I wasn’t going to. I’ve learned my lesson with the last one.” Sighing, she shook her head. “Anyway, I’m very busy today, and the sooner we talk about my suggestions, the sooner we can put them into practice.” “You say that like it is easy, Granite, but most of those will need to wait until there is a new Morrigan, and– Bloody Hades, might as well discuss it now.” He turned to me. “If I get sidetracked again when I come out of my office—” he pointed to one of the doors “—please yell at me.” Barely listening, I slowly nodded. Until there was a new what?