On The Horizon

by Normal

Chapter Three: Bright Eyes

The trot down the streets of Roan was fairly conventional. Other ponies were now actively on the streets, their day to day business unhindered the way mine was. The dust lifted from the force of my hooves hitting the ground was no longer alone, instead it mixed with the clouds of many other ponies. Individual clouds were obscured, a solid fog thus coating the floor. I however did not have the time to notice this. What I had to do was now firmly in my mind and nothing could slow me down now.
“Horizons!”

Of course thinking such thought was sure to draw forces that would have their sole aim to slow me down. I slow down letting slightly and sure enough alongside pulls up an older Pegasus. A certain Pegasus I preferred to avoid even when not in a hurry to ensure the life of my aunt. Emerald Flight is relatively new still to Roan and has yet to make many friends among most of the hard working families that live around here. He was raised in one of those pegasi cloud cities and has the beliefs like so. The Grey King can do no wrong. Chocolate rations have gone up, did you hear. We should do everything to help the Guards.

Peh, I will never understand the beliefs taught in cloud cities and whenever I run into this green pain in the flank I am glad in many ways that Aunt Shining Heart is a unicorn.

“Horizon, it is good I caught up to you. It appeared you were in a hurry so I’ll try not to delay you. I was simply wondering if you and your aunt might have food you might be willing to spare.”

I spare Emerald a withering glance, my hoof kicking up a spark as it hits a loose rock. He means well but he truly has no idea some days what might be considered insulting among some ponies. This may be a neighborhood of hard working ponies but even if a pony is working as hard as their body will allow does not mean that they will not spend spans of time with stomachs rumbling for food. Drought, famine, winter, even boundary skirmishes with the Griffons to the north; for various reasons families will go hungry.

I let my hooves pick up a little more speed, my feathers flaring slightly as his question got to me. I remember more than a few empty bellies from my childhood. I remember afternoons on the streets looking for work, trying to help out the family. Most foals did.

Emerald Flight, however, doesn’t.

“Bright Horizons, I asked you a question.”

I turn slightly facing this older stallion. He tries, some days he really does. But when one grows up in a learned household it is hard to be truly feel what others have felt. My yellow eyes stare into his green.
“No.”

I do not mean what I said harshly but I say it with a bluntness that makes it clear I am not in the mood for idle chatter . With that said I face forward once again, and let anger drive my hooves. I have a mission to do and a pony to reach. I leave Emerald flight behind in my dust, him satisfied that at least I gave him an answer.

Steadily the neighborhood is losing its shine as I trot. Houses that strived to be well kept and perhaps well presented, these house have shutters at an angle and not even rice paper in the frames of windows. The traffic previously forming on the prior streets has now been vacated. The ponies that live here, if they work at all, work odd hours and odd jobs. These are ponies that were dealt an unfortunate hand in life and have done nothing whatsoever to improve it. These are ponies who cause you to peer behind you, expecting a knife in the dark.

I round one more corner and the building I seek is right in my sights. This building dwarfs the ramshackle homes around it, its shutters straight and painted a dark navy blue. Property of the King, this building is one of the many Guard stations in Roan. Not one of the King’s Guards, there is one and only one station for them in Roan. No, this is for the Guards that provide protection to the populace. These are the ponies that will barrel into a thief or break up fights between rowdy stallions.

These are ponies that I trust.

The door stands open, letting the heat of bodies within and the heat outside escape together into the scant breeze present. It is through this door way that I make my way through, my gait now slowed to just a pleasant walk.

I walk up to the stallion at the desk, a pleasant enough expression on my muzzle. The burly rock gives me the once over. I do not recognize him and nor does he, I. I clear my throat, while taking a step closer to the desk.

“I’m looking for Bright Eyes, he’s my brother.”
Brother of a sorts. We are technically cousins, but growing up under the same hay thatched roof together by Shining Heart as both of our mothers has blurred the line between the difference for both of us. In fact, until I was eleven I thought he was actually my brother. Despite having not being born siblings, our feelings for each other have never wavered. We are as close as any brother and sister out there most days.

The guard’s facial expression has not shifted a notch at what I have just requested. I sigh.

“Tell him Bright Horizons needs to talk.”

He moves now, shifting his bulk. I hear the creaks of protesting wood as he does so.
“Sorry miss, but Heart’s out raight now,” He grunts out, just the hint of a country accent entering his speech, “Ya could wait, he should be almost back.”

A brown hoof gestures over to where benches are nailed in along the wall. I sigh. At least this stallion is letting me wait indoors. I really do hope what he said is true and that Bright will be back soon. Patience is not one of my virtues. Though the benches look very appealing with splinters I can see from here poking out I decide against sitting my rump down there. Instead I make the decision to pace the small hallway that I have access to, the only sound the metal clunk of horseshoes against well-worn wood. Needless to say the volume of noise within did not rise above that of a whisper.

The grey eyes of the desk stallion follow my movements, not in a suggestive manner, nor a malevolent way. No, was I to presume that the expression on his face is that of boredom, there are not any going-ons currently within these confined halls of the Guard Stable.

It was minutes later, mayhaps a half hour at most, when from outside noise started to grow. First the faint echoes of an unheard joke, then the ever closer laughter of three different stallions’ voices. Finally the door swings slightly in a breeze as the force of the leather bound guards came through. Between them is a dirt covered earth pony, looking like he was dealt a piss poor set of cards in life. I noticed that already blue green bruises were showing in patches of missing fur. He had resisted.

One of Bright Eyes fellow guards notices me standing there first, and with the slight nudge of a hoof draws his attention. I wonder why at first his eyes widened, but then I realize. I must look a sight. Coat sweaty and full of dust, mane flying every which way. I wouldn’t doubt tear stains ran down my face but I’d deny those. I awkwardly shift my hooves.

Then Bright is next to me, drawing me away from the watching eyes of his peers and the desk stallion. He drapes a leg across my neck, hoof brushing gently against my withers. I lose myself now. This has been all too much, all too quickly. The dam I’ve been forcing up lets loose and emotions pour forth. There are no more maybe tear stains now, any that were there are quickly washed away with a flood.

Beneath me my brother stiffens. I know this deep down to be because, like most stallions, he has no idea what to do with a bawling mare. I don’t think anypony does. He tries petting my mane, running his hoof through snags and overall straightening it out and when that doesn’t work he pulls me in front of him. A cream colored hoof, dry with dusts of the street, forces my head up, so that my eyes met with his.

“Come on, what’s wrong?”

I stare through wells of tears at his pale yellow eyes. I feel like I’m swimming in pools of pale gold. I sniffle a little, feeling just a smidge ashamed, it has been years since I last truly cried.

“They took Aunt Heart, Brighty.”

Author's Note:

So I am still unsure about the name Bright Eyes,I had originally felt like his name should have the word Mettle in it. If I come up with a better name I might change it yet. I feel like its weird having him having such a similiar name.

Comments

[Normal]

2594650
I'm glad to know I am so bad ass. I'll let that reflect postively onwards to my story.

[Normal]

2594650
Oh just noticed this since I didn't get home til late with nothin to eat, but you mean my brother and I.