A strong smell of alcohol wafted through the air. The smell reached the nostrils of about 3 other ponies, but I wasn't really sure. A light music played in the background - I didn't know the song, but if I did, I wouldn't have been able to recognize it. The bottle on the bar counter in front of me shook with a crash as my head came down on it. I was out like a light.
Let me start over: I'm Silver Gloss, a light grey earth pony with a metallic blue mane. I was born and raised by my grandfather, a pegasus pony (DON'T ASK) in Manehatten. I never really fit in around Manehatten; I was too fragile, too feminine for the tough gangs and various thugs that roamed the streets. So, when I was 15, Gramps and I moved to Ponyville. In Ponyville, where most of the population are mares, I fit in quite well. At first sight, people saw me as female, but I didn't really mind, because, hey, if you're not you, then who are you?
Anyway, it was in Ponyville that I got my Cutie Mark: a large wrench, showing my love for mechanics. Contrary to my lithe figure, I am very robust when it comes to automatons and locomotives. This Cutie Mark got me into Canterlot's Ministry of Mechanics as a novice. I was so excited when I heard! Canterlot is the city I'd always dreamed about, and I wanted to go to for as long as I could remember, and being accepted to the Ministry of Mechanics was just icing on the delicious cake. But over the course of two semesters, four terms, and one heartbreak, I degraded from the pony with his whole life in front of him to a meer barfly, unconscious in a mixture of saliva and vodka on a floor that hadn't been cleaned in months.
This is my story.
"Hey, Silver! The mail's here, fetch it for me!"
I sighed, hearing my grandfather's retched cries from downstairs. I shut my Pony-pular Mechanics magazine, and threw it onto my pillow as I rose. I opened the door out of my room with my teeth and headed down the stairs.
"I'm going, Gramps," I yell in reply. "Just a minute!"
"Consarnit, young man, don't give me that lip!" His raspy voice responded, and although I couldn't see it, probably spraying his ancient spit all over his recliner. I hate that man. Sure, he raised me to the stallion I am today, but he treats me as a slave, always doing physical labour for him, even if it's the most menial thing. You know what makes it even worse? I don't get any muscle from it! Still as skinny, and, well, downright attractive in the mare-sense of the word. Where was I? Oh, right.
I skidded across the carpet, the soft material feeling nice under my hooves. I bent my neck down and slid the mail into my mouth, picking it up. I straightened up, and started a slow trudge into the living room, where my grandfather would be laying in his trademark recliner, waiting for visitors so he could bother them with tales of years yonder. Visitors never came anymore, and I bet you could see why.
I turned the corner into the living room, and cast my gaze down upon the decrepit old pony laying there, his glasses slightly askew, his disheveled mane (at least what's left of it) losing a couple hairs and smelled the soft stench of old cologne as if he was still trying to seduce his long lost wife. I spat the paper envelopes at him. I saw his eyes squint down onto the writing on the front, focusing and trying to recall what the letter "A" meant.
I spun around, ready to head back to my room and my very compelling magazine, when I heard him call out to me again.
"Silver, this here letter's for you! Who would want to write to you?" He gritted out, struggling to find another way to insult me. I slunk to his chair, my innate curiosity spiking. I snatched the letter from him and held it up in the dim dusk light filtering in through an open window. All I could make of the front of the envelope was a small wax marking. I didn't know it then, but this would be the most important letter of my life. I set the letter down again, and glanced at my ancestor.
"Thanks, Gramps. Glad to know you have so much faith in my friendships."
"Frienships? With your body, it's more like gayships!"
Oh, how I hate that man.
I shut the door behind me and dropped the envelope containing the letter on my desk. I reached over to the lamp sitting in the corner and turned it on. With the light from my desk brighter than the setting sun, I could then see what wax-mark was being used to seal the letter. The wax-mark seemed to have what appeared to be a pony with a horn, a unicorn. Common in Equestria. Taking a closer look, I noticed that the unicorn also happened to have wings. Not as common. A brief thought passed through my head.
'Wait, what if...' I scoffed at the mere idea. Like that would ever happen in a million years. I bent down and grabbed hold of the corner of the envelope lid and tore it across, leaving a large enough hole in the top for the letter to fall out with ease. Using my hoof to unfold the letter, I began to read.
My eyes darted back and forth, taking in all they could. A slight sweat started on my brow, and I could feel my coat dampening with perspiration.
'It can't be,' I thought, trying to convince myself. 'No way.'
But it was. That letter was the letter sent by the Princess of all Equestria, and it was informing me of my acceptance to the Ministry of Mechanics. Let's just say this would be the first of my faints to happen, and it certainly wouldn't be the last.