Tales of a Lonely Pony

by Echo Montana Juliet

Window of Opportunity

There's a time in most stallions lives, when they realize the things they do may be counter-productive to others lives. When he exited the obelisk, he began considering this idea. He quickly left the thought for a new one, that being, Prince Armor didn't apparently think about covering the obelisk for him coming back. He hadn't even bothered refilling the hole where he'd bashed through. Remembering a spell for temporary invisibility, he quickly performed it and walked out. It still looked like night here. The throne room was empty, and no guards still. The torches were still lit, and it definitely was still under Prince Armor's contro; here and he'd not just made one large circle back to his own world. He'd have to act quickly, for he only has five minutes before the spell wears off, and it only covered his physical appearance, not his sound. Being smart in architecture like his father, he knew some of the ins-and-outs of the Crystal Castle. Carious hiding holes that had been there long before the fall of the original empire, ruled by someone whose name had been forgotten in his world long ago. He walked through the throne room doors, and still no guards. This was completely concerning him at this time, but he'd have to investigate when his life wasn't going to be possibly in danger. He rushed down the hall. Not taking his chances with whoever was in the next hallway, he used a secret passage behind an age old bookshelf. When he exited, he ended up in the kitchen. What an odd twist he thought, but did not linger. He remembered a passage that should lead down to the main great hall. This room, however, had the most passageways. The old prince must've really loved his food. He couldn't remember the exact location, but he'd needed to pull a fake wheel of cheese from one of the shelves and throw it to one of the corners that would activate a special pressure plate. Two of them would have passageways, the other two were death traps. He took his chances and chucked the cheese to a corner. He got lucky and a door opened up, and he walked through. He ended up behind a dresser that was stuck. Seeing as it was a one-way passage, it had to be moved as an exit. He couldn't see much light coming from the cracks, so he began to slowly move it over with his magic. It was immensely heavy for just being a dresser, wasn't even very large. It was about the size of the average kitchen counter. When he moved it, he'd realized he would have prefered death. He'd chose wrong, and landed himself in Prince Armor's bedroom. Even if he was asleep, there would be guards outside that door and he knew it. He couldn't turn back, because it was, quite literally, a one-way passage. He entered the room. He was standing right in front of the bed. It was amazing how much of a deep sleeper Armor was. He'd made a good amount of noise moving the dresser. While standing there silently, he'd noticed a second pony sleeping next to him. Now he knew he was dead. She was clearly awake, and just staring at him. He would've backed up, but her gaze just about made him a statue. He didn't want to scare her, but if he didn't move, she might still call the guards. Then he remembered that she'd just be staring at the empty space, and that he still had another minute until the spell wore off. She started to wake up Armor. There was no way he was leaving this room if he woke up. He couldn't think, then he remembered the balcony. He had to move through the room to the balcony, even if he was spotted. He slowly walked over to the door to the living room, but not before Armor was finally awoken. He had ten seconds. He crashed through the door, slammed through the glass door to the balcony, decloaked, and jumped. Using another spell he'd learned, he glided over the kingdom. It was beautiful at night. The houses all shimmering in the street lamp lights. He noticed the sun was rising in the distance, which gave the place a glorious cotton candy color sky. He spotted his father's wooden villa, and landed there. He'd started to knock on the door, when he'd heard bells ring. Bells he'd not heard since Halderon fell. The bell to call all the guards to arms. His father answered, and without words, took him in. After making a nice breakfast, his father spoke.

"You know, you're a wanted fugitive."

"Figured."

"No one's ever escaped the castle prison completely unnoticed like that."

"I'd imagine so."

"How'd you do it?"

"I didn't."

"What do you mean?"

"I was in the cell the entire time, but I left by some unknown force."

"Left the way you came?"

"I don't even know that. I was just there, and I waited for the guards, but they never came."

"So, do you know how I know you aren't from around here."

"I could guess, but I'd prefer from a first-hoof source."

"Because you're dead."

"Frozen in ice?"

"Drowned, really. Why do you think ice?"

"That's how you died."

"Ah, I see. Hasn't been ice here for the longest time. Not in my lifetime that is."

They sat silently, eating for a while. Then his father spoke.

"So what's it like on your end of the stick?"

"Well, twenty some-odd years ago, this place became a frozen wasteland, and everypony left."

"What happened?"

"Well, sometime before I was born, Prince Armor had a colt. Named him Iron Hoof, or so they say. Armor and his wife died and Hoof took power. During his final years of reign, I was born. His rule was harsh, and some say he was the reason the snow came back. He started a war against the rest of Equestria that ended quickly. A new stallion took his place named Halderon. None of us liked him, and so we just killed him and left. Not without reason of course. He had been eating meat from cows and pigs. Meat, which I've seen first-hoof. It's just wrong in too many ways."

"That sounds like a horrible place to be. What happened to you?"

"Spent a year or two looking for a place to call home. Then about twenty years in the woods. Finally, I wanted to make the last years of my life in my old home, here. Found that the snow had cleared and that it really was all supposed to be sunshine and rainbows. Still, there wan't a pony to be seen for miles around, so I walked to the castle, found a secret room, and now I'm here as a wanted criminal."

"Quite the lonely life you lead, there."

"Yes, and all of my friends were just the woodland critters."

"Well, I suppose you are better suited for that life."

"I was born in a winter place, dad. I lived in the woods with a permanent winter coat. It was hot, all the damned time."

"No need for those kinds of words, boy."

"Well, let's see, I've been alone and quiet for the past twenty years, in which I nearly forgotten how to speak. I almost couldn't get to the kingdom because of how long it's been."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, the last prince, Prince Halderon, had commanded the building of a massive wall, and seeing as you were the only architect willing to take on the task, we left. I was one of the few ponies that could open those walls. You taught me some weird magic words that opened and closed the walls."

"Do you remember the words?"

"Yes, I do. Why do you ask?"

"I've been tasked to repair the wall you took down. Maybe if you told me those words I might be able to ensure that you may pass through once I've blocked it up."

"How long will it take? To build the wall that is."

"To repair it, you mean? About a day. I saw it and realized I needed more supplies. They're being shipped in and should be here tomorrow."

"Alright. Do you mind if I sleep here tonight?"

"Sure, I still have your bed from before you died."

"Good."

"Should I show you to it?"

"If you'd be so kind."

So Thompson showed him around the house. It was exactly the same from his own world, conveniently enough. The bed was the same, the hall was the same, the bathroom had the same dirty looking bathtub. He was back home finally, so he decided to sleep. As he laid in bed, he remembered one thing he'd always been taught. There's no rest for the wicked, and he never did good enough to counterbalance the evil he's done in his life. It was partially his fault his father had died. They didn't have any ice left, and he'd been sent out to buy some more. Losing the money in the snow, he came back to a very disappointed father. Despite the lack of proper equipment, Thompson had gone out to get fresh ice out for the surrounding tundra. It had been said that the storms were rising in size, but his father paid no heed to the claims. When his father never came back, he grabbed his thick winter jacket and set out. That's when he'd found the frozen statue of his dad, curled up in the snow with a bag of ice in a hoof, and a pickaxe in the other. When he woke up, all was quiet, just like it had been when he was strangely teleported away.

"Dad?"

No reply.

"Father!"

Not even the slightest sound.