There Is A Light That Never Goes Out

by CJOfLandsUnknown

Intro: The King Fisher Blues. Part One

So, this is it. I have decided to write a book. I really have hit my lowest low. The bottom of the barrel. The end. Well, at least I can’t get any lower. On reflection upon my life as a whole, I can say a few things. Not many nice things, but a few thing none the less. This world, or what I have experienced of this world, is not as nice as the ponies they show you in the photos, in the films or in the TV shows would have you believe. Yes, it may be brightly colored, but that’s not different from splashing a coat of paint on a cracking wall. The wall is still cracked. Life still isn’t nice. Or at least my life wasn’t. A mural, no matter how beautiful and perfect, wouldn’t have helped my life be any more so. It may have made it look nicer, but that was no change I cared for. My life is an example of what your average pony experiences. Joy, hate, elation, disappointment, confusion and malaise, all these were, and shall be experienced by me and you, the reader, alike
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But enough of that, we shall get on to that in good time. This tale is not to discuss sad stories of the death of kings; but the life of one who has defended princesses, or what they thought to be important. My work was never glamorous, nor shall anyone who followed consider it so. But it was work none the less, important work at that. No one can shy away from the fact that it was thusly an important job. I must explain one true fact about the patchwork story I am about to weave. We do not start where one naturally should. The beginning of my life isn’t as eventful as other parts I experienced throughout my time. Neither, truly, were my years as a foal, or a colt. It was when I was full, when I was, by all biological nature, complete that my story began to unfold in truth. When I was complete, ironically, I had never felt less so. Never had I felt so empty, it was a strange feeling. My adult years were, if not memorable, then at least more passable then the other sections of my life.

But remember, as I shall oft repeat myself throughout this novel, we were guarding something that the princesses cared for deeply. Why? I had, and still have, no idea why they cared so much for it, but it was apparently important to not only them, but the whole of Equestria. The Light That Never Goes Out. It was a simple name, but not an official name. I never learnt the official name. At the orientation meeting where I met my colleagues soon to turn close friends, I was too busy cracking wise and making little in jokes with my brother, Rusted Sun. A brother and a friend he was to me. So, I never caught the name. But remember, good reader, that there is one true fact, one thing that pervaded my life; from the day I entered it, to the inevitable day that I exit it. There is A Light That Never Goes Out.