Alistair maneuvered his way carefully through the hotel corridors, an extra sense of worry upon him with the enveloping darkness seeming to surround him through each hallway. He should’ve been sound asleep three hours earlier, waiting for the next day’s exciting tourist activities with Twilight.
But tonight, sleep was an elusive action that seemed almost laughable to him at this hour. His heart thudded quicker than normal and he felt such an overload of energy that he could’ve ran three miles up a ninety-degree incline and still would have felt ready to run three more.
He strafed his teeth across the bottom of his lip as he moved along the corridor walls, watching his shadow creep up and distort in the faint glow of the hallway lights. Seeing a brighter light from up ahead, he silently ran towards it. With each bound he felt his nerves began to unknot themselves until he skidded to a halt within a new chamber he’d intentionally entered.
He looked around the hotel sitting room, its red carpet and low lights giving it such a moody and relaxing feel. Somepony had lit a fire earlier and it still burned away at a fireplace near the back of the room. And in the back of the room, with no pony else around, was a single dark silhouette sitting on a chair near the blistering flames, painting an interesting yet frightful display of what appeared to be hell fire behind it.
Walking slowly towards it, he attempted his best not to be heard, placing his bare feet softly against the floor. Suddenly, only yards away from his target, his cover was blown. The figure spoke.
“Hello, Alistair,” called Twilight from the chair, her face buried deep in her latest evening read. “What are you doing up so late, I thought you were tired?”
He shrugged. “I felt tired, just can’t sleep.”
“Is something on your mind?”
“I think so.”
“Well,” said Twilight as she levitated her book down and turned around to face him, “why don’t you tell me what’s got you riled up?”
He nodded and took a seat by the closest chair to Twilight. Placing his feet down evenly to one another, he spoke his troubles.
“I don’t think I like that Professor Paraprax,” he said plainly.
“What?” asked Twilight with surprise; taken back that anypony would have ill feelings toward the scholarly Professor that she’d been admiring since she was barely a mare. “How could you dislike the Professor? He’s struck me as an upstanding stallion when we both met him.”
Alistair nodded his head. “He’s a nice guy, don’t get me wrong. It’s just that how he operates, how he’s asking me these questions. That’s what I don’t like.”
Twilight eyed him sternly. “You know he’s asking you important questions. I hope you responded honestly, for everypony’s sake.”
He put his arms up in defense, a bit annoyed at the notion of being implied as a liar. “I did, I did. Don’t worry. I answered everything exactly how he wanted it.”
Twilight leaned back in her seat. “Then I don’t see how this bothers you then. You answered his questions and that was that. Now your back here and the day is done. How’re you bothered by that?”
“He asked me about my parents,” he said lowly, not hesitating a moment to drop a verbal bombshell that would have shattered even the best poker player’s mask of serenity. Twilight was no exception, whose eyes inflated like airbags while she jolted backwards in an electric manner.
“Yeah…” he said absently while rubbing his forehead skittishly. “It was, uh, it was that...what’s got me sort of…you know, out of sorts…” He paused, now noticing the awkward silence. “I’m sorry.”
“No-no-no,” she said quietly. “There was no other way to put it. You could’ve either beaten around the bust for thirty minutes or just gone straight out and told me.” She grinned sadly. “At least you chose the shorter one.”
He returned the grin while nodding his head. “Yeah…I did.”
For awhile they sat in silence, the methodical clicking of the still glowing fire the only sound dampener that kept an eerie midnight silence at bay. Drumming her hooves shakily against her arm chair, Twilight turned to him.
“What did you tell him?”
Alistair sighed and leaned back in his chair. “I told him what I knew, which was hardly anything to begin with. There wasn’t even a point of him asking.”
“Did you tell him everything?”
“Yes,” he stated with a harsh edge. “Not a single minuscule detail of absolutely pointless information was left out. Yes, Twilight, I told him everything.”
Twilight eyed him sternly, clearly angered by his rude retort. “I’m just making sure that not a single detail was missed. This is an important study that you’re helping with, and I’d be darned if you, or anypony else, mucked it up. A lot of ponies are counting on this.”
“But why?” he moaned sadly, clenching his fists together in exasperation. “Why does everyone here care so much? I’m just a kid, I haven’t even done anything.”
Twilight smiled. “Well, you did get captured by a crazed paramilitary group and derailed a train while making your grand escape. I’d say that’s grounds for public interest.”
He sheepishly smiled, the humor of the statement almost making up for the pride he felt in it. No matter how much he tried, in no way could he shake the heroism that he felt during that fantastic adventure, just months ago. He’d never struck anypony as being prideful, the event was simply too big to turn a blind eye to, at least in his mind.
“I realize that,” he said, trying very hard to sound modest. “But before then, and even to ponies who didn’t here about the story in the papers, they still see me as some sort of…thing.”
Twilight shrugged. “Simple idea of a spectacular. Something looks different or interesting; you want to get a good look at it. Because in everypony’s mind, you never know if you’re going to see it again.” She pointed her hoof towards him. “More so with you than the humans that came before you.”
He nodded, fully understanding what she was referencing. “I almost forgot about that. Those whole forty years, and not even a trace of us.”
“Fifty years, almost,” corrected Twilight. “My parents were born just a few years after Skip Stop passed.” Twilight’s eyes shifted downwards as she sadly shook her head. “Terrible way she went, nobody deserved that, especially not her.”
Alistair nodded silently and looked into the simmering fire. He knew all to well of what had become of the kind and gentle female human by the name of Skip Stop. She’d been incredibly gifted in her speed, being able to outrun even the fastest of pegasi without even realizing she’d passed them.
It was with this unmatched speed, that she was able to relay messages at a lightening pace between the major cities of Equestria, acting as the fastest sort of express mail for only the most important of situations. And when a massive storm seemed to be approaching towards Manehattan to the north, she was already off towards the metropolis, ready to warn its inhabitants of the approaching chaos.
It was along the road, near a nameless backwater hamlet, as she blasted along at a speed never seen by anypony of her day, she collided with a stopped wooden carriage, not even seeing the massive object as it slammed into her like a concrete slab.
It was in this account, Alistair worried about his own mortality. Skip Stop had been older, yes, and maybe a teeny bit more prone to accidents, but she hadn’t been pursued by a group of maniacs with cutting-edge weaponry and a penchant for not making themselves seen. The possibility of him ending up like her seemed pretty low, but being systematically hunted down, captured, and possibly killed wasn’t.
“Alistair?” said Twilight expectantly; her tone suggested she’d repeated herself more than once.
Alistair shook his head quickly, shaking out the cobwebs of thought in his mind. “Y-Yes?”
“I was wondering what you wanted to do tomorrow when we’re out on the town. There’s either the Royal Gardens or the Air Shipyards.”
He didn’t even need think what his response would be. “Definitely the Gardens.”
Twilight raised an eyebrow, surprised that the clearly more exciting outing had been chosen over a boring walk in glorified hedge mazes. “Really? No shipyards?”
“Nope,” he answered casually. “I’m already feeling the closing corners of stress descend on this trip, and a nice garden stroll seems like the perfect cure.”
“Alright,” said Twilight offhandedly, not very concerned with however which way their day went. “It’s your decision.”
Alistair stood up from the chair and stretched right in front of the fire, greedily taking in its comforting glow. “Good, just the way I like things. And you know what? I think sleep’s actually calling me for the first time tonight.”
She grinned. “Let’s hope it works then. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight,” he called back as he walked out of the room, feeling much better then he had when he’d entered.