> Evolution > by TheExhaustedBrony > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Evolution > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Equestria. The place I used to call my home, is gone. It moved on and left me behind since it no longer needs me. I can't stand looking at my cutie mark, for it reminds me of my limitations in this new world. In a past life, during a time that had meaning, I was a writer. I always wanted to be known by ponies all over the world for my literary expertise. It was my dream. Right before I got my cutie mark, I embraced my passion for writing as my destiny and I decided that I would stop at nothing to obtain my dream. I always pictured the thousands of ponies all lined up to get a copy of my latest book signed by me. In this new world, the most useful skills are cooking, anything involving physical exercise, crafts, and medicine. I look at those ponies and envy how they're able to survive because their cutie mark has a use in this god forsaken world. What good can a writer do? I can't get nourishment from a book, I can't run very fast, and I don't know how to heal ponies beyond a simple bandage. There's no place for me in this world. Not many ponies even know how to read. Schools haven't been used in decades, and the children aren't been educated like they used to be. It breaks my heart knowing that these children could have been vessels of great potential. I tried to teach them at one point, but, being children, they didn't care for knowledge. All they wanted to do was become adventurers. If only I had a readable copy of Daring Do to show them; I'm sure they would have loved it, but unfortunately, the book's condition has gone considerably past caring for. Those kids, I want to help them. I want to give them what knowledge I know. I shouldn't be too hard on them though. They're just children and are allowed to be slightly ignorant. They are still an essential component to the world, and Equestria needs new generations of ponies to keep our species alive. Just like any creature, Equestria was faced with a situation that forced it to adapt to a new environment. Literature and arts were not essential to survival and possibly could hinder it. So the world removed them because there was very little need. Advanced knowledge doesn't keep ponies alive anymore. there's no future in it. Common sense is all you need to manage. I heard that all the old-world ponies that share my ideals are all thriving in the ruins of Canterlot. I want to go there. I want to be with others that have an appreciation for art. However, I'll never make the trip. Ponies used to be a very peaceful species and violence was rarely heard of. The world can't provide for everypony like it used to, and getting what is needed for survival is requires force. I watched as a stallion violently forced a bottle of soda out of a mare's hooves. It's just a bottle of soda, but it was hers and she wanted it to stay that way. She lost the bottle and the stallion got away. She was badly beaten and taken to the doctor. From what I've heard, she's recovering just fine and just had a few broken ribs. The stallion, however, I heard that some ponies from town caught up to him and killed him. I pity both of them. The stallion did what he had to do to survive. He's a product of the world and what it means to live in it. When Equestria started to change, it had no intention on holding hooves with its inhabitants. Everypony struggled desperately to catch up. Some were left behind and perished, some were only able to hang on for a short while, and the ones that remain are the ones that are still hanging on. Speaking of hanging on, I was currently visiting the mare in question. Or planned to. Here I was, standing in front of a makeshift hut made from hay and mud. The mare was still recovering, but even a hasty recovery can come to an abrupt end if a shady pony catches wind of it. Despite lacking the physical prowess or survival skills necessary, I had decided that company would do the mare well. My hooves shuffled underneath; I couldn’t help but feel a little antsy. A writer lived a lonely life, at least inside his own home. Beyond simple empathy, I had little experience with the opposite sex. All I knew that the mare had been discharged and sent home by herself. No family, no friends. Nopony to keep her safe. In a strange bout of altruism, I had asked the nurse for her address after passing by the hospital and watching her limp home. The nurse had (rather rudely) informed me that she had no family and lived alone. I gingerly knocked the door thrice. A moment passed without incident, albeit a drop of sweat condensing on my forehead and dribbling down. I couldn’t help but be nervous. A couple minutes passed and I turned to leave, but the telltale noise of shuffling and wheezing signaled the approach of someone inside. The doorknob jiggled for a moment, the rusty lock releasing as she twisted the knob. I took in a breathe to calm my nerves as the wooden door swung open, revealing a frail ivory mare. Her pink bangs covered her bandaged eyes and her horn was cracked from the earlier assault. It occurred to me she had been preemptively discharged, most likely unable to afford the bill. No wonder she had held onto the soda; for her, it was a luxury. The mare sniffed, and then reeled back. “Who are you?!” she hissed, quickly pulling the door close. I sighed and put my hoof in the door. She winced, most likely fearing I would attack. “What do you want? I don’t have any money.” I shook my head and clicked my tongue. “No, I I don’t want your money. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m just a friend.” She cocked her head, loosening her grip on the door. Good timing as well; my hoof was starting to ache. “Friend? What business do you have with me?” she asked, allowing the door to open. “I saw you leave the hospital alone and thought you’d like some company,” I answered, walking in as she moved aside. Her posture relaxed and she followed me close, oddly enough. The interior was simple: a straw bed, some cupboards, and a gas stove to cook. Once I stopped to examine my surroundings, I felt the mare sniff my barrel rather closely. “Mmm, I never had a gentlecolt caller before…” she murmured, leaning close and nuzzling my shoulder. I shivered and backed away. “E-excuse me?!” I stuttered, taking a few steps back from the confused mare. “My purpose is just make sure you make it through the night, not last through the night!” The mare faltered and lowered her head. “I’m sorry.” I sighed, forgiving her, and walked forward. Carefully, I brushed her pink bangs from her eyes, revealing a single, unbandaged, violet eye. The pupil dilated as she briefly made eye contact, before breaking it and turning away. The mare limped across the room and collapsed on the hay bed in an exhausted heap. I shook my head, clearing my mind of strange thoughts before approaching the hay. “Hey.” She lazily raised her head, staring at me with a single eye. Hopefully the other was just bruised, but only when the bandages came off would I know. She jerked her head to the side. “Care to join me?” I shrugged and stepped beside her. I laid down on my stomach and took the other side of the hay pile. The mare sighed and laid her head down. “Mmph…” she mumbled into the hay. I raised an eyebrow and turned my head to her. “Excuse me?” She raised her muzzle from the hair and said, “Tell me a story.” My heart stopped as I stared into the mare’s focused eye. It bore into my very soul. A spark of intelligence were in her eyes, and it was something to behold. I closed my mouth and nodded, earning a smile from the injured mare. I opened my mouth and begun. “Before the time of the great fall, there was harmony. Harmony between everypony…”