A smile. That's what all of the guards and dignitaries noticed as they escorted this strange brown pony down the hallways of the Canterlot Asylum for the Mentally Unstable. The stallion in question had been quite a topic of discussion from those who oversaw the inhabitants. They knew he was in there; they had just tried everything they could think of.
Well, almost everything. There was still one more thing to try to pull his mind out of whatever pasture it now resided in. His mind was a terrible thing to waste, and they didn’t want him to simply waste away with all of the other inhabitants.
He was dragged quietly down the hallway, crazy ponies yelling at him as he went by with a genuine smile on his face. He didn't seem to mind being pulled over the filthy, damp floor, nor did he seem to mind the other ponies yelling obscenities and incoherencies at him. He was the happiest stallion in the world, and nopony would ever be able to take that away from him.
Finally, the end of the long hallway was reached. The guard ponies unlocked a door to allow the uncannily content stallion through, and when he didn't move, they booted him through. He landed face-first on the ground, the guard ponies picking him back up and dusting him off. Still, the smile never left his face.
In the room was nothing but a chair with metal cuffs for holding ponies down and a pair of metal rods welded into a pincer shape. At the ends of the rods were affixed two white balls.
The guards seated the brown pony and affixed the strange contraption on each side of the pony’s head, securing the cuffs around his hooves and then departing from the room. Several minutes passed. The stallion continued to find happiness even in the chair he would depart this world in.
The metal pincer was attached via a cable to a large white box with a dial on it. A single guard stood next to the machine, absently putting his hoof into the pocket of his uniform briefly to heft around the small bag of bits given to him by a noble with nothing more than a nod and a promise.
Then he reached up and turned the dial all the way to its right. He hoped the doctor would notice first... but he’d earned his keep now. He didn't question the motives of the pony who'd handed him the bag. His hoof fell back to the floor and he joined his fellow guards as they filed out of the room.
Shortly after, a dark blue pony with a white lab coat and a very serious look walked in, grimacing as he saw the brown stallion with a large smile. “They don't pay me enough for this... zapping happy ponies now?” he muttered to himself.
The doctor seemed efficient, to say the least. He immediately walked to the lever and flipped it down. His eyes then registered that the dial was turned to a number that screamed “LETHAL” in his head. Massive amounts of voltage began coursing through the metal rods and directly into the head of the brown pony.
Suddenly shocked back to reality, the brown stallion noticed his situation and that he was going to die briefly, before even that world disappeared and he found the coursing lightning in his brain bringing back memories of the past.
“Get back here, you damn whelps!” A baker chased several laughing children out of his shop, several stolen loaves gripped in their teeth as they made their escape. It was a dark, moody night in Canterlot, rain washing the dirt and grime that had built up in the streets away and giving the hopeful residents of the lower class a much-needed bath.
The yellow lights looked distorted out of the window of the small, simple house that a young colt was watching outside from. The young, bright red pony stared in wonder at the windowpane and watched the water stick to it, wondering how it could ever be on something as smooth as glass. Reaching out his hoof to touch the window, he drew it back with shock when he realized it had gotten damp, too. The water came through the window?
Suddenly, something caught his attention outside. His interest in the water on his hoof was forgotten as he saw three pegasus guards swoop in from the sky and knock the three children down, their bread tumbling out of their mouths and onto the wet cobblestone. The guards then picked up the three children and disappeared.
His mother, hearing the commotion, exclaimed, “Oh, Cottontooth, get away from there!” and pulled him away from the window. “Celestia's guard is only doing their duty, you shouldn't need to worry about those little ruffians anymore!”
“Ms. Light, your son has what we call—well, he's the first we've found with it—that is to say, we're not really sure how to handle—“
“Just hoofing tell me already!” His mother stared at the doctor pony standing in front of her, daring him to stop talking and walk away.
“Your colt has an incredible mind. He can affect the environment around him with it. We've never seen anything quite like it.” The doctor looked admiringly at Cottontooth. “We'd very much like to study this phenomenon.”
“No.” She stated it quickly, plainly. “You will not take my son away from me for even a single instant.” She pushed the cyan curls out of her eyes and continued to stare. “Forget you know anything about my son, or you will regret it.”
“... Yes, Ms. Light. The offer will stay open as long as that colt still breathes. He is a marvel of the field of psychology.”
Cottontooth stumbled down one of the streets of Canterlot. He ran right into a dirty mare, who squealed at her equally as dirty coltfriend. The coltfriend spun around and bucked at Cottontooth, catching him square in the side and flinging him into a wall. “Filthy little orphan! Why can't the guards take care of these stupid kids? They have no respect for anypony, they run right into us, and they steal way too much food. They belong in the gutter!” The mare beamed at him, and they walked off together, muttering sweet nothings to each other as Cottontooth lay bleeding at the base of the wall.
He managed to stand shakily on his hooves, limping his way to the nearest shop and asking to use the restroom. Once there, he cleaned his wound as best he could with the water they provided, and bound it loosely with toilet paper. It would slow the bleeding, if not stop it, as long as he didn't exacerbate it.
He walked out of the butcher shop he'd dashed into, favoring his bucked side and wandering aimlessly down the street once again. At least his mother had taught him that much about survival. Canterlot was truly an unforgiving place for orphans.
He found his way to a nice little alley that seemed blessedly empty of ponies selling illegal things to other ponies, or the other ponies who took the illegal things and would act just plain crazy. He crawled under one of the bigger dumpsters and curled into a little ball.
Cottontooth dashed around the corner as he made off with a loaf of bread. The baker was coughing and wheezing behind him, shouting, “Thief! Thief! Guards, somepony! Catch that little thief!”
Cottontooth smiled to himself. It looked like he would actually eat for the first time in a week tonight.
No sooner had that thought crossed his mind than he saw a shadow loom over him. He reacted instantly, knowing from experience and observation how to dodge this, and flung himself backward, the pegasus guard thumping to the ground several feet in front of him and turning toward him. Cottontooth took off in the opposite direction, slipping between the legs of the stunned baker and dashing around the corner.
The pegasus guard rounded the corner a few seconds later, expecting to see the young orphan dashing as quickly as he could. Instead, the tall, proud stallion saw nothing.
Cottontooth allowed himself a tiny victory smile as he descended the ladder into the sewer. The guards never looked for orphans here. Maybe it was because they didn't like the smell, or because they never looked down until some snooty upper-crust pony was squealing about a less fortunate colt trying his best to survive. Whatever it was, Cottontooth knew he was safe.
He finished going down the ladder, taking a satisfied bite out of his bread and chewing contentedly. He heard a hoofstep next to him, and dodged to the side, a bat narrowly missing him. The unicorn mare that had swung it cursed and readied it again. Cottontooth turned toward her, growling, “What do you want?”
“Bread. I'm hungry.”
“Sure, just put the bat down.”
The mare eyed him. “Why don't I just kill you and take all of it? I don't need to share.”
“Because we're both ponies. Shouldn't that mean anything?”
The unicorn shrugged. “Long as I'm alive, I don't care about any other pony.” She swung the bat at Cottontooth again, and he narrowly dodged it by jumping backward, then he lunged unexpectedly forward, knocking the mare flat on her rump and bowling her over. He ended up standing over her and pinning her to the floor. She coughed and said, “No... not like this....” Cottontooth picked up her bat in his teeth and knocked her over the head with it.
A few minutes later, Cottontooth was leaving the sewer, an unconscious mare and an abandoned loaf of bread with a bite taken out of it lying forlornly together. It appeared he wasn't eating tonight.
He rifled through what felt like the tenth dumpster tonight, looking for something to soothe his rumbling stomach. Cottontooth hadn't eaten in several days, but he was bigger now, and it made him hungrier.
He shook out his bright red coat of the stinking refuse he'd been diving through for a good portion of the night, resolved to check only one more dumpster before calling it quits. He was slowly making his way toward the better-policed section of town, explaining why these dumpsters had so little in them. The higher his risk, the more chance he had of finding food, but the more chance he had of being caught. This had gotten risky enough. Just one more.
He dove into his final dumpster, immediately thankful that he had. He found his face lying in a fistful of pasta, immediately opening his mouth and munching the tasty, starchy food. His stomach screamed thanks at him as it immediately went to work digesting. He dove into the rest of the dumpster, seeking out any more tasty morsels of food. He found some half-eaten basket bread, eating three of the loaves and stuffing seven more into a little satchel he carried on his side. This was getting luckier and luckier.
Just then, he heard hoofsteps outside his dumpster, loud and obvious. How had he not heard the guard approaching? He cursed himself for letting his guard down. His rump was still sticking out of the dumpster, but there was no way he could move now, so he decided he would play dead and hope the guard was new.
The guard began stabbing his spear into the trash, slowly noticing the pony's flank being exposed to him. “Eeeuuugh, there's a dead pony in here.” He poked Cottontooth in the rump with his spear, and Cottontooth couldn't help but twitch as blood began to trickle out of the puncture wound he'd just gained due to his stupidity.
The guard exclaimed, “Oh, this one's still alive!” He reached his hooves in to drag Cottontooth out of the dumpster, and as he pulled, Cottontooth waited until he knew he was within range, then bucked as hard as he could and hit the guard full in the face with his hind legs. The guard shouted in outrage, blood immediately pouring out of his face and gaining the attention of several of the other dumpster guards. They immediately began running toward the dumpster.
Cottontooth jumped onto the guard's head, forcing it down into the dumpster and giving him a glimmer of satisfaction before he vaulted off and ran into the night. The guards gave chase, but they were no match for an orphan who'd lived these streets all his life. Cottontooth simply melted into the night and escaped with his prime payload of several loaves of bread.
He decided he would drop off one of the loaves with his mare friend in the sewer. He did it whenever he had some extra food, and she was always really happy when he did. She was the only friend he'd ever had, and he didn't even know her name, nor did she know his.
He went to the usual grate, letting himself down as he always did. As he scaled down the ladder, he became aware of the unusual silence. Normally, she would have said hi by now, but he heard nothing. He finally made it to the bottom and turned around, instantly realizing why things were so quiet.
The mare couldn't talk. She no longer had a mouth. Or a head, really. It was all smashed up, and he couldn't even recognize her, but he knew it was her. Lying next to her dark green body was a bloodied baseball bat.
Cottontooth immediately turned back around and left the sewer again. The blood looked fresh; whoever it was, they would probably be back soon. He'd heard rumors about cannibal ponies that were moving into the sewers and attacking the orphans that tried to escape using them... but he was hoping that it was just a rumor. He wasn't going to stick around to find out if it was true or not.
Later that night, he lay curled up under some soggy newspaper and wept. His only friend was gone, and he was all alone again. He cried and wept and vented his sorrow to the world.
Which is why he didn't notice the mare approaching until she touched her hoof on his shoulder. He gasped in shock, scrambling away from the offender until he realized she was standing in a streetlight, and no intelligent murderer would reveal themselves so stupidly. Who was this mare?
She had a lavender-colored body and cyan curls that she had to push out of her face. She looked... just like his mother. But the face was different. It wasn't mom's face; it was that of a very pretty young mare around his age. He stared at her, wide-eyed, lost for words in her stunning beauty.
“Ah, a stallion who likes me!” she exclaimed. Cottontooth instantly averted his gaze, but this only made the mare giggle. She had such a pretty laugh. “It's all right, I don't mind if you look. I am here for you, after all.”
Cottontooth stared at this mystery mare, confused. “For... me? Did I do something wrong?”
The mare smiled kindly at him. “Nope! Quite the opposite, actually! I'm here to be your friend, Cottontooth.” He only stared incredulously at her, earning him another giggle from the beautiful lavender pony in front of him. She gave another beautiful smile after her little laughing fit, and his heart swelled with hope for the first time since he could remember.
The lavender mare trotted out of the sweets shop with a few hard candies in a bag. She tossed them to Cottontooth, who exclaimed happily over them, his bright red coat shining as he tore open the bag and took one of the candies in the mouth and began trying to chew on it.
She chuckled. “Silly foal, didn't your mother ever teach you to let them sit in your mouth?” Cottontooth shook his head as he continued trying to bite through the hard candy, earning yet another chuckle from her. It was like medicine to him.
The lavender pony suddenly got very serious. She looked straight at him. “Cottontooth, we've been partners in crime for a few days now. It's obvious that I know your name, but I still don't have one. What do you want to call me?”
Cottontooth looked up thoughtfully. “Well, you're just so mysterious! It's tough to decide on a name that fits you!”
The mare suddenly looked up in thought. “Here, I just thought of this:
That mysterious mystery mare,
Who came to ease the load you bear,
Thinks that it's really pretty lame,
That you haven't come up with a name.
If you don't decide soon,
How about... this afternoon,
Then you'll really get to see,
The darker side of little old me.
Who am I?”
“Enigma.”
“Pardon?” The lavender pony looked at Cottontooth expectantly. “What was that you said?”
“Enigma,” Cottontooth repeated. “That's your name!”
The mare scrunched her face up in distaste. “Oh, where's the originality, you silly stallion! Why not something better, like Pandora?”
Cottontooth smiled. “I like Pandora, too.”
The mare immediately waved her hooves in disagreement. “Oh, no no no! I like it! That was just a joke. My name from now on is Enigma.” She smiled encouragingly at him. “Cottontooth and Enigma: Partners in crime!”
The crimson stallion sighed. He'd been with Enigma for years now, and he still wasn't able to touch her. No matter how much he wanted her to be there, she could touch everything but other ponies. He wanted to reach out to her and show her that he was there, but she was more alone than he was.
Nopony could see her, either... except him, of course. This couldn't be making her happy. She was isolated from every other pony in existence... and Cottontooth was only isolated from her. If he could touch her, he knew he would be eternally happy, but he knew that couldn't happen. She was just his imagination, after all. He needed a pony friend, and she came just that easily.
Cottontooth was trying not to fool himself. These were his happiest moments, but he knew they wouldn't last forever. He had to let Enigma go, or he would get too attached and he'd lose himself in trying to get closer to her.
He decided he would talk to her about it the next time he saw her. Canterlot wasn't his city anymore, anyway; he needed to leave. This was no way to survive. He and Enigma had managed to save up enough money to move away... no, he had managed to save it up himself. Enigma was just a part of his mind.
She trotted into the home later that night, and Cottontooth sighed unhappily. Enigma said, “I know. I need to go away.”
Cottontooth looked at her, shocked. “How did you know?”
Enigma looked at him sadly and smiled. “I'm a part of your mind, remember?”
Cottontooth tore his gaze away from the destitute mare he loved. “I have no choice, Enigma. I can't survive like this. I'm not happy. I need to leave everything behind. Everything.”
Enigma only nodded sadly. Cottontooth frowned and said, “I'm leaving the day after tomorrow. Don't follow me, and don't remember me. I'll make sure you're still alive, but if you follow me to where I'm going, I swear I will forget you ever existed.
Enigma only intended to follow one of the orders Cottontooth gave her. She would forget him, but she was going to make sure she followed him. Starting things over new with the stallion she loved was infinitely better than remembering him and never seeing him again.
That night, as she walked through ponies' dreams, she packed her belongings up in the home she'd managed to earn and prepared to bring them with her for the day after next. She woke to find Cottontooth lying by her side, touching her. She shivered. If only he could feel this touch as well... but the moment he woke up, his hoof would pass right through her. She decided not to disturb him on this morning.
That night, she packed her belongings on the train, checking in at the ticket office and departing for Ponyville. Cottontooth had never told her where he was going, but she simply knew certain things. She noticed a very irate stallion with three large bags and an upturned nose arguing with the ticket clerk about his being on the train. The clerk shrugged and apologized, disappearing around the corner as the train departed. Enigma curled up on a train seat and waited for her life to start over in Ponyville.
Cottontooth's departure was a somber one. Enigma said goodbye, Cottontooth said goodbye, and then he got on the train. Enigma waited on the platform, waving at him until the train doors closed, then disappearing further down the train as she closed her eyes and passed through the closed train door. Easier than stealing from the Canterlot nobility. She curled up on the same seat and waited on the same journey. Eventually, sleep overtook her, and she remembered nothing.
For those of you who have already read the final chapter, I updated the ending to provide more closure. After I figured out how the story began, I had to add more to make it properly end.
This is the first and final chapter of The Pony That Never Was. To those who read the prologue last out of this story, thanks for going on this journey with me. To those who read it first, you got the cheat sheet!
--Scootareader