There is a city where the metal spires of glass and lights float like clouds. Dark Sunset wants to see it.
There is a city where the metal spires of glass and lights float like clouds. Dark Sunset wants to see it. It might give answers as to why his brother was murdered, his father abandoned him as a foal, and why a mysterious blood red Pegasus is at the center of everything.
Dark Sunset mouth gaped wide as he looked down upon the world below. He stood at the front of a large circular room with a mirror set of curling stairs that led to the control console at the top as well as the archway to the main lobby. The view was splendidly magnificent. Lush fields of crops and forestry, a crystal ocean in the distance, and there was a straight, unwavering line separating it all from a frozen wasteland where not a single hoofprint was seen upon its virgin snow. Over the wasteland of ice and snow floated the colors of Celestia’s vibrant mane but, somehow, far more translucent and dreamy.
He looked through the massive curved window, struck with awe. He hadn’t even noticed the rather tall, blood red Pegasus walked up next to him. He was dressed in a blue, cotton shirt with its long sleeves rolled up to the elbows, a nickel-button vest, sleeveless and brown, that descended to his flanks where a pair of dark trousers covered his legs. The most peculiar aspect of his outfit was the sorely misplaced black fedora upon his head with his ears poking out the top and strands of black mane poking out from under the hat and curling, but never truly descending over his eyes.
“This place is called the Valley by every country and culture on the planet,” the Pegasus started, voice as soft, warm, and welcoming as Sunset’s mother’s own. “Many have tried to cultivate this place selfishly, but they all fail. Mother Nature has refused to let this place become a defilement against her, even before the time of ponies and magic.”
Sunset didn’t say anything but gawk at the beauty of colors as sunlight slanted downwards from its true source and upwards off the reflective snow.
“A thousand years and I’ve seen only two things on this planet…nay, the universe that compares to this.”
“Two?” Sunset finally managed to speak, disbelieving anything could be more magnificent as the land below him, but the Pegasus said nothing until Sunset noticed an absurdity in the Pegasus’s words and asked, “A thousand years?”
“One thousand sixty-six, to be honest.” The red Pegasus’s ocean eyes gleamed against the sunlight…no. Sunset looked closely to the sky, noticing the moon completely formed in the sky but overshadowed by the sun, and then back to the Pegasus whose eyes reflected the moon as he stared at it.
“Why…why am I here?” Sunset asked, finally bringing up the topic that had been prodding his fragile, guilty mind.
“Life or here on this ship?” the Pegasus asked, faking confusion.
“Here as in on the ship,” Sunset responded flatly.
“Because…” Sunset watched the eyes of the Pegasus as it was lost in a moment of thought. They were so old while the rest of him looked so young. Eyes only an immortal could be granted by time, experience, and…loneliness. Those lonely eyes echoed misery and sadness that Sunset could not help but pity.
The Pegasus shook his head and said, “Because you’re not safe. You haven’t been for your entire life. I’m here to save you.”
But Sunset wasn’t sure if he wanted to be saved. He didn’t deserve the life that was granted to him…
Three Weeks Earlier The deep gray Pegasus at the counter listened placidly to the customer in front of him, writing down their order in shorthand. He nodded as the Earth pony in front rambled about the specifics of the cake she was ordering; it was killing him to listen. He took a deep yawn in, closing his forest green eye.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” the Earth pony scoffed snobbishly. “Am I boring you?”
Sunset looked up from his notepad and giggled. He hadn’t been writing anything for the past four minutes. Instead, he drew himself hanging from a tree by a noose. He held up the picture and the Earth pony scoffed once again.
“Just get my order done!” They turned their tails to the gray Pegasus and headed for the door.
“I’ll make sure to put lots of arsenic in it for you!” he called out. There was no response, but he still chuckled a bit.
There was a long waiting period before a blue mare and a coffee-creamer colored stallion came through the back offices wearing their usual chef’s attire. The mare, a plump filly, pushed the stallion with her hips gently and whispered something to him.
“I swear I didn’t do it this time!” the gray Pegasus started with a playfully serious tone. “Whatever you’ve heard, I didn’t sneeze into the Apple-family’s order! I did sneeze into Mayor Mare’s, but sweet Celestia, I didn’t do it into the Apple’s!” I stomped his hoof for extra effect.
The married couple rolled their eyes in unison. They had grown accustomed to the Pegasus’s snarky remarks and jokes.
“Oh, calm down! We know all about the ‘sneeze’ ordeal.” The blue mare went up to the Pegasus and continued: “Carrot Cake and I wish to close up shop early tonight, Sunset.”
“Really?” Sunset replied curiously. He was both surprised—they rarely closed early—and eager—he really wanted to go home and finish reading his book and start on the next one. “Why?”
“Well, two reasons come to mind,” Carrot cake stated in his usual Northern accent. He nuzzled his wife lovingly. “We have a new protégé that I have to go pick up from a rock farm tomorrow and I’m going to need my rest for the long ride there.”
“And the other reason?”
The Cakes looked at one another, unsure if they should spoil the surprise.
“Well,” Cup Cake, the blue mare, started while looking at her husband for reassurance. He nodded. “We’re going to try and have a child.”
“And I’m going home,” Sunset said not wanting to hear any of it.
“We weren’t going to tell you the specifics!” Cup Cake called to Sunset as he walked out.
“I know but this exit is funny!” he replied in a slightly whiny scoff. He shut the door behind him and shuddered in the cool wintery breeze. Winter had come a bit earlier, but Sunset had no quarrels with the weather ponies. He was supposed to be one, but refused. As a result, whenever the weather became horrid, he’d simply ignore its attempts to irritate him.
The snow lay upon the ground, road, and sidewalk in a flat layer. There were few, if any, hoofprints on the sidewalks, but not a single imprint from anypony, object, or natural entity elsewhere. The streets of Ponyville were cold and quiet and dead, but peacefully dead all the same.
The Pegasus began a short trek, not wanting to open his wings and expose his sides to the bitter elements of winter, through the shallow layer of snow, leaving behind the one of three other sets of hoofprints. The lamps hanging from metal posts littering the street had died and spears of ice dangled from one edge, shifting the weights and leaning the lamps sideways. But there was light being cast down from above. The night sky cast down its cosmic rays to light Sunset’s way home. The moon slanted its blue light to the world below.
Sunset walked through the snow, shivering violently. It wasn’t supposed to be that cold that night, so he hadn’t dressed appropriately before leaving for work. He wore nothing, as was customary, but he regretted not taking even a scarf.
His home came into view. It was a small duplex that was cut down the middle. The left half had a loggia porch, swinging front screen door, and was painted a sickly green, but Sunset remembered how it used to be a nice shade before it had been left unattended over the two years since the occupant left. Sunset knew very little of the occupant except that he traveled a lot; even the landowner knew little to nothing. The occupant’s name was a mystery as well, which confused Sunset, but not enough to seek more answers. The right side was a cream-tan color with an identical layout as the left side except it was kept in good condition.
The gray Pegasus climbed the small step to the loggia porch and to the front door. It was locked, but Sunset had a key under the placemat. He grabbed it and unlocked the door. He pushed the door open and entered.
Sunset felt the warm embrace of the well-insulated building immediately make him light-headed, but the entire experience was still much desired. The cold no longer bothered him, and Sunset was free to sit down and relax. It had been a rather boring day at the bakery. He didn’t like, nor knew how, to cook, so it was a good thing that the Cakes hadn’t made him an aid in the kitchen. He most likely would’ve burnt down the bakery.
The Cakes were kind-hearted people. They saw how much Sunset had been struggling to find work by his over-enthusiastic tone when he came in for an interview only a few months prior. They hired him as an order-taker. Not the most entertaining of occupations, but Sunset didn’t mind. He needed the work.
Sunset threw himself onto his small, charcoal colored couch. It smelled of cigarettes, but Sunset didn’t smoke. There were also small, charred holes along the headrest where the previous owner had stuffed their rolled, burning tobacco. It was opposite of a shut fireplace that remained shut at all times. Sunset never found much use for lighting a fire in his house. Especially with the house mostly made of wood.
He stared up at the dilute-white ceiling, waiting for the warmth to fully envelope him before he would start reading the book at his bedside. His intentions to finish his reading soon became vain as he, unknowingly, drifted into sleep, the warm blanket of his home covering him.
The world faded into reality, creating Sunset’s lucid memory. He and a smaller colt that was just a tad lighter in color than he was trotted side-by-side towards a stream. It rushed with water that vibrantly echoed the high sun. The two colts took in deep breaths and dunked their heads under the crystal water. They opened their eyes, feeling the cool water press against their eyes as they faced the current. They pulled their heads up from the water and took gasps of air; Sunset began giggling not even a few seconds later.
“I told you it wouldn’t work!” the larger of the two stated. His high-pitched voice indicating he was fairly young.
“Yes it will!” the smaller yelped angrily and naïvely. He dunked his head back into the water and looked up current.
Sunset curled a hoof around the smaller’s waist, pulled him out, and tossed him away from the stream and into the fields of grass behind them. He had been worried that his brother might not give up and drown himself.
“Stop it!” the smaller screamed angrily. “You’ll see it if you just look!”
“There’s nothing there!”
“You’re not looking then!”
The two went back and forth until the smaller became too enraged to just stay put. He lunged forward towards Sunset, who stepped aside instinctively, only to fly past him with sputtering wings, weak and pathetic. He screamed with fright as he threw himself into the rushing stream that now looked more like a monstrous river with teeth, ready to devour the smaller.
Sunset watched terror-stricken as the smaller drifted down the river splashing.
“Help!” the smaller screamed in agony as he swallowed gulps of water into his stomach and lungs. Sunset leaped towards the drowning smaller, but something had caught him in mid-air. It was horrifying; a presence had surrounded Sunset and it prevented him from saving the smaller.
The memory now took on a nightmarish impression. The sun became blotted out but ghostly clouds as black as decay, the grass died and turned to a sickly brown and black, and then the water turned red…
Blood red.
“Powder!” Sunset screamed.
“Powder!” the gray Pegasus echoed through his house. His vision, cleared from the horror of his dream, was blurred and foggy. He sweated profusely, wetting the couch he slept on slightly. He looked all around him to find a form, but found none. It disappointed him greatly.
The Pegasus sighed and let himself calm down with time. It was just a dream; he couldn’t do anything about it. He wiped his forehead and subsequently the sweat.
Sunset rolled out of the indent he made in his couch and stretched his body, cracking and popping his ligaments and joints. The sudden release in pressure sent a surge of agony through the Pegasus. He yelped for a bit and reeled his neck and head back with the pain as though he had smelled something rancid.
Then the sound of a grandmaster piano echoed through the entire house. Both halves. Sunset didn’t own a piano so where could the noise be coming from? No, it wasn’t just noise. It was beautiful, heart-grabbing musical charm. Even through the concrete and wooden slab that separated the two homes in the walls, Sunset could hear the music of a master pianist behind the wall. He pressed his head and ear against the wall and listened to its lullaby beat and tune.
Tap. Tap. Tappity-tap. Tap. Tap. Tappity-tap.
The gray Pegasus tapped his left front hoof to the soft beat while he hummed the beat of the heavier, more stricken tones.
Tap Tap Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap Tap Tap. It was like he had heard it before, but Sunset knew he hadn’t.
Then why was it so familiar?
The Pegasus’s curiosity began to take hold over him, and he trotted out the front door and into the cold, unforgiving winter. He curled around the front of the house and found the loggia porch, identical to his own. The front door was still closed and hadn’t moved from its previous place. Was there another entrance? The backdoor, of course.
Sunset felt strangely stupid not having remembered the backdoor; he had used that entrance numerous times when he left his keys inside. The Pegasus flew over the house, noticing the stack of black smoke coming from the twin chimney. The pianist had lit a fire. Sunset’s imagination began formulating a scene in his mind: a somber form with nimble foreleg playing skillfully at the keys of a massive grandmaster piano with no light but a fire that glowed illuminated the darkness around the shadowy form at the seat. The fire only revealing an even much darker form at the stand: blood red coat and streamline wings that looked sharp enough to kill.
Sunset shook away the image in his mind and descended to the back of the house. At the backdoor, he turned the doorknob but was unsuccessful in opening it. The backdoor wasn’t locked though; it was simply stuck on something heavy. The gray Pegasus slammed his body into the side of the door, astonished that it still didn’t budge.
The piano stopped and the crescent moon’s light glowered down upon Sunset ominously. It’s blue light cast around Sunset as though he were nothing but a target.
The gray Pegasus heard something moving from the inside of the house and realized it was the heavy object in front of the door.
“Why did I put this here?” a voice whispered to itself from behind the door. They grunted and a loud scraping and sputtering sound came from the heavy object. The door shot open, startling the gray Pegasus slightly, but not as much as the coincidental look of the voice. It was a blood red Pegasus—though much taller and stronger looking than most Pegasi, looking almost more like an Earth pony—with the strangest ocean eyes Sunset had ever seen. His wings were folded to his side, but Sunset could see the streamlined look they carried. The Pegasus stood proudly, something that Sunset was unused to, and smiled kindly, something else he wasn’t used to. The smile suddenly turned to a look of confusion when the Pegasus at the door looked upon Sunset for a moment.
“I’m sorry for disturbing you,” Sunset started after finally convincing himself that his vision was simply an unlucky coincidence. “But I heard you playing the piano.”
“I’m terribly sorry for my disturbance then,” the Pegasus said, still scowling with confusion. “You’re my neighbor right? Dark Sunset?”
Sunset nodded. “Call me Sunset. I’d prefer not to be called by my father’s name. It usually confuses people.” In truth, Sunset just didn’t want to be acknowledged like his father because he didn’t like his father.
The Pegasus straightened up immediately. “Oh good! So you’re not your father!”
Sunset rolled his eyes.
“I sincerely believed you to be him. Well...aside from the fact that he's dead.”
“So you knew the old man?”
“Knew him? We worked together for years!”
Sunset shook his head. “Another one of my father’s ‘friends’.”
Sunset turned to head to his home, but was stopped by the Pegasus.
“I think there might be a bit of confusion right now,” he stated frankly. “I think it best if we have a cup of tea or water or whatever people drink in this generation. We should get to know each other. I’m going to be here for some time.”
The gray Pegasus shook his head and continued back to his home.
“Please? I’d really like to meet my rescuer’s son,” the red Pegasus pleaded.
Sunset stopped in his tracks, leaving a deeper indent in the snow than the others. Did the Pegasus just say that his father had saved him? His father was nothing more than a crook and a thief who wouldn’t even stay in one place to raise his own sons.
“My father…”
“…would want you to know the truth,” the Pegasus finished, face stern and serious, but not critically so. Sunset looked over the Pegasus’s expression, not sure what to make of it. It was earnest and serious, but at the same time foreboding and giving the impression of something dark…
Loneliness.
It was emanating from the Pegasus like an invisible aura. It was infecting Sunset with guilt and depression. All he wanted was to talk and how could he just say no? It was just a friendly conversation with his neighbor. He might as well get to know him.
“Fine. Let’s hear what lies the old man had this time…”
+++
When Dark Sunset was growing up, he did not see his father much. His father was always away on "work" yet would never tell his sons, Dark Sunset and Powder Kicker. They were left in the care of their eccentric, if not half-insane, mother. Sunset and his younger brother were left to raise themselves with no true caregiver. Every few months, Sunset's father would return with somepony who always stood on the front porch or was not there at all. But the one thing about the pony, the only thing that Sunset could remember was his hat. A fedora with a black ribbon around the cap with a much darker cap. Sunset loathed the pony for years until he realized that there was no point in hating the stranger.
But as long as his father was doing what he loved to do; it was a mercy that Sunset was willing to allow, and he never regretted it. Until he began trotting into his duplex-neighbor's half of the house under the assumption he was going to hear another one of his father's lies as to why he was never around, noticing the black fedora upon the grandmaster piano's keys. Thoughts of his father abandoning him as a child began unraveling through the Pegasus's mind. Was this simply another lie devised by his father to protect whatever doubt or honor left in Sunset's mind? Or perhaps this was a sincere gesture from the stranger to shed some light on the truth behind Sunset's father's constant departure and non-existence from his and his brother's life.
Sunset truly hoped the latter was true, to find out that his father actually loved him and his brother. To believe that his father was always away because he knew that he couldn't be the father they needed or deserved. Yet Sunset's consciousness knew that his heart was wrong; that his father was nothing more than a selfish stallion who was off having his life, leaving behind his family. Sunset did not blame his father much, though. Who would want to have the legacy of two sons with one that is mentally unstable and the other without a special talent?
Sunset, looking at his bare flank, whispered, "What do you know of the lech?"
The blood red pony hobbled carefully to the seat at the piano, pushed aside the hat, and began playing the song where he left off. It partially irritated the gray Pegasus, but he did not get bent out of shape over it. He simply listened to the keys hitting softly against its respective wooden stoppers and metal hammers. Listened to the hammers slam away at the stretched metal wires lining the insides of the piano like organs with the heart being the author of the musical grace. Listened to the sounds pedals dipping and hooking from the pressure of the red Pegasus's hooves.
Sunset looked over the Pegasus in front of him and around the room. It was the living room. The paint was peeling, the walls were cracked, and the fireplace was lit violently behind a glass shutter with its warmth trapped inside and light spreading throughout the entire room, illuminating it all gloomily. Yet, even with the warmth trapped behind glass, the entire home was toasty and pleasant against Sunset's senses. The aroma of potpourri and the melody of music transported the gray Pegasus to a distant place.
There were metal spires with lights. The lights of all colors with a few blinking on with others blinking off, revealing a scattered rainbow of luminescence along the black sky with the only natural light originating from the blue moon above. There was a long set of tracks along the distant side of the mountainous form of spires and light. There was one leading to the dark, yet madly lit, form in the distance above Sunset. The sounds of piano keys and stings were replaced by the sounds of whimpering and the clinking of metal machines. Sunset noticed that he was being held up by something warm and loving. He could see anything around him but the form in the distance; just a complete void surrounded him.
Something began to unsettle the Pegasus. He could sense that he had no control over himself. Sunset looked around sporadically, despite not seeing much, as though fear-stricken and filled with terror. He felt a hoof graze across his mane, noticing the soft, yet half-sane, touch as his mother's. It soothed him slightly, but not as much as some inaudible words that came from somewhere Sunset could not arrange.
"We're okay, now," the words said. Sunset felt himself drop to the floor carefully and yawned. Sunset smiled at the sight of a small gray Pegasus curled up in a dark corner. He walked over to him and nudged him awake. The Pegasus was no older than a foal.
The entire carriage shook and Sunset felt everything drop below him. He screamed in fear, but his screams were deafened by the shrieks of the nearby foal. Everything was in free-fall...
Sunset reached for the filly with his hoof and pulled him close.
"We're okay..."
Sunset's eyes opened at the final stroke of the piano. The pony turned away from the piano and saw Sunset reeling from his vision.
"What...what was that?" Sunset whispered, watching the pony take soft steps towards him.
"It's called 'Mozart's Requiem', an old piece of music. Really old actually; older than me. Few ponies know of it. It was playing the day I met your father and his family. At the time, it consisted of you, your brother, his wife, and his parents."
Sunset listened attentively. Something about the pony's voice made him want to listen. It felt honest and compassionate.
"I will admit I wasn't aware of your father's tragic passing until a few days ago, so I am dreadfully late."
"But...he died three years ago? I think late might be a bit underselling it."
"I don't stay in the same place for long. I go from place to place, never settling down. Mail doesn't get to me conventionally."
Sunset thought over what the Pegasus had said; he must have had so many experiences and adventures going from place to place...but Sunset noticed that they were the only two in the house. Was he alone?
"You said that my dad saved you. What did you mean?" Sunset sat on the hard floor, shuddering at the coolness of the wood.
"Well...it's not the same kind of saving that I had done for him, but he saved me."
"That's not helping my confusion..."
"I know, but simply telling you what he had done won't be enough. Plus, I some time to spare while my ship is recharging off of the solar winds! Why don't you and I get together tomorrow evening when I'm not tired. Immortal bones still need rest!" His last line sounded more like a mantra than just words spewing from his mouth.
"But..."
"No buts!" He waved his red hoof at Sunset, to his dismay. "I really wish that I could talk more, but I'm not kidding. These bones need to sleep. I haven't slept since..." The red Pegasus squinted his eyes but looked up to the ceiling; he scratched his chin in thought. "I think it's been five weeks since I last slept? I don't remember, but now is a prime moment to do so. Now if you don't mind me going to sleep?"
Five weeks? He almost said it aloud. Instead he stood up and headed for the door. The sound of the red Pegasus behind him walking towards the bedroom adjacent to the living room echoed gloomily. "Wait. I don't think I got your name?"
"I've been called many things, Sunset, good sir. I've been called Dutchman, the Traveler, and the Tormentor of Evil. But the name your father and all of my closest friends over the years have always called me simply..." The Pegasus spoke demented and with a slightly demonic undertone. Sunset thought there was a small growl hidden in the voice. He turned around to see the pony looking to the floor, slumped and ominously shaded by the fire and black mane becoming a greater black on the dis-illuminated half of his body. A black mane that made pitch look like sunlight. Black as evil.
The dramatic build up to the answer to Sunset's curious question left his heart beating quickly. What name could could possibly be replacing the titles told to Sunset?
"I've only accepted one name, one title."
Sunset's nervousness got the better of him. "What?"
The pony smiled, showing a set of pearly, straight teeth. His posture straightened immediately in a somewhat comical fashion and the pony said with the single most, un-godly amount of enthusiasm Sunset had ever witnessed:
Sunset was willing to believe the things that the pony before him was telling him—whether it was out of the hope that his father wasn’t as evil as he had thought or simply out of the honesty springing from the Pegasus’s voice. But all of the subtle and passive hints at Jesiah being an immortal finally came to a final blast of words.
“I’m the Immortal Pegasus!” he had said to Sunset.
The pounding of his heart slowed almost immediately and he gave a flat expression.
“You had me until then.”
“What? I thought the dramatic build-up was a good touch to the whole thing.” Jesiah acted as though nothing was out of the ordinary. His eyes widened, finally realizing his mistake. “Oh! Your father must not have told you much about me then…”
“He never talked about his work.”
“Surely he said things about…”
“Never. Not even to our mother.”
The two stallions stared at each other in light of the fire that managed to stretch around the archway leading from one room to the next.
“Oh, well…I’m Jesiah. You sure the name doesn’t ring a bell?”
Sunset nodded reassuringly, but it only caused the opposite effect on the red Pegasus.
“I’m pretty sure I’d remember the only pony in existence that only has one name. Seriously, I’ve never heard of anypony only having one name. Is it like Jesiah Red or Jesiah the Derp?”
Jesiah rolled his eyes. “I picked that name because I liked it. Well, that and I wanted to leave behind my last one for something a bit more…hmm…what’s the word? Casual? Less-foreboding? Maybe it was because I didn’t want to sound like a daemon for evil anymore. But enough about me! Let us sleep for the night and I’ll speak to you tomorrow evening.”
“Why not morning?”
“Because you have a job.”
Sunset nodded and headed for the door. Once outside, his ears perked up and he whispered, “I never told him I had a job.” Sunset turned but the door had been shut without a sound.
The gray Pegasus rolled his eyes and headed for his half of the house. There wasn’t a chance he was going to listen to that crazy pony anymore. Immortality? Really? What did he think Sunset was? A fool? No pony but Celestia is immortal, and even she is aging, no matter how slowly.
Sunset entered the warming embrace of his own home and trotted to his own room. The room was square but fairly decent sized. The walls were an ocean blue that he now wanted to repaint so that it wouldn’t feel like Jesiah was looking at him at all times. In one corner was a soft looking bed made of cloud, a skill that Sunset had learned from his brother Powder in an indirect way. Powder had been having one of his moments of insanity, much like their mother’s, and Sunset made the softest bed imaginable to soothe the Pegasus. It worked like a charm and Sunset had been using ever since.
The special aspect of the fluffy, curly-puffed cloud bed that allows struck Sunset as odd is that it never shifted form unless made to do so by physical means; it never deflated, it never released its rain, and it never dissipated into the atmosphere. It was the perfect teddy bear too.
In another corner there was a dresser with all of Sunset’s clothing. Granted, he typically didn’t wear clothes, as was customary of Equestria, but still had some just for formal occasions. Continuing in the clockwise manner, there was a cabinet. It had been locked and only Sunset knew where the key was.
Sunset went to his bed cloud and reached inside, feeling around the liquid-like insides. He found his mark and withdrew his hoof with a shiny, metallic item. A key. The Pegasus carried it over to the small cabinet sitting upon the tiny stand.
Inside, there was an urn containing the ashes of Sunset’s father.
The Pegasus sighed and shook his head. “Just another one of your tricks, huh, old man? An immortal? Really?”
Sunset’s mind looked for the most absurd, yet novel-worthy, bedtime story his father had told to Sunset and Powder the nights before he would leave again. There was one about a king having been sent away from his kingdom with his family. There was an attempt on his family’s life during their escape, but a Pegasus saved them. There was a name for that Pegasus, but Sunset had forgotten it.
But how could he have forgotten it? It was a name unlike any other and it was simple too. He came with a title as well; something mysterious. What was it? All Sunset could manage to extract from his diluted memory was that the title had started with an “H”.
Sunset looked at the urn containing the last physical remnants of his father, but there was a draft in the room that gave the Pegasus a sense that he wasn’t completely alone. Yet it was cold and distasteful to his senses, a polar opposite to the ironic feeling of warmth he’d feel when near his father.
“I can’t wait to hear what you’ve come up with this time.”
+++
Sunset looked all around him but saw nothing but colorful grass that swayed in the direction of Sunset’s movement; they gleamed through the blurry air. He wasn’t breathing; it was as though breathing would kill him. He kicked an thrashed through the torrent, barely holding onto the life in him.
His lungs hurt, but pain meant that he was still alive. His head breached the layer of water, allowing for one small breath for him to extend his fate for mere moments.
There was a roar of anguish and horror.
“Powder! I’m coming!” the voice screeched through the air and water that rippled above the drowning pony. The light of the sun was gone now but something was still showing its silhouette through the water.
It was massive and distant. It was composed of many bright lights that flickered on and off randomly, scaling its tall spires that were as tall as mountains yet slim as…buildings. They were buildings and the long lines extending in all directions out of the floating, dark object were tracks for trains. It was a city.
But the black city began to melt into a gray, green eyed Pegasus that reached down and yanked Sunset out of the water. He gasped and gagged on air and water that mixed terrifyingly in his throat and lungs. He looked into the sky and saw nothing but the bright sun that had mysteriously disappeared.
“It’s okay, Powder,” Sunset heard behind him as he coughed and choked. His wings were lazily dangling behind him. He felt somepony folding his wings gently back to his sides and place their muzzle over his shoulder lovingly and protectively.
“Is Daddy home yet?” Sunset heard himself say with a voice that wasn’t his. He spoke delusionally and confused, scared and worried. He must have choked on too much water. Sunset knew his father was never there.
Yet those words seemed so familiar. That voice too. It was burrowing in the back of Sunset’s mind.
“Yeah, Powder. Dad’s home. Dad’s home.”
It was a lie and Sunset knew it. He knew it was all a lie because he had been the one to say it. Sunset wasn’t dreaming his memory. It was his brother’s.
+++
Sunset’s eyes opened slowly. He could feel his wings cramping under his weight. The bed felt hard and rugged, rough and wooden. Sunset looked around himself and realized he had fallen out of bed and was now sweating profusely with labored breathing.
His back hurt, along with his wings, and as he tried to stand, Sunset felt soreness in his ribs. He put a hoof to it gently and rubbed. He looked out the nearby window and saw that the sun was barely rising.
Sunset groaned impatiently. He did not want to go back to sleep nor did he want to sit around for hours until the bakery opened at ten o’clock.
Crunch! Crunch crunch crunch.
Sunset’s eyes widened. It was coming from his living room. Who could possibly be inside? He had locked all the doors; he was sure of it. Maybe it was an actual burglar this time and not a red fellow that looked half-insane.
Crunch! Crunch crunch crunch.
Were they…eating? It sounded like they were eating stale oats or crackers. Either way, the intruder was in his home eating extremely loudly. Sunset crept out of his bedroom, quietly enough to wake even a termite from the deathly silent night that was interrupted by the sounds of munching. He even made sure to make sure the “clop” sounds of his hoofs were quiet.
Sunset peered curiously around the archway to his living room and saw a somber, hunched form eating from a bag of oats and crackers, stuffing their maw with the oats and crackers and water to drown it all down. The form was small, fragile, and easily breakable as they ate ferociously. They acted as though they hadn’t eaten in years…and looked like it too.
“What are you doing in my house?” Sunset growled at the intruder. The stranger looked up, showing their wide, bulbous eyes as well as the anxiety and fear carried in them. The form fell back a bit and shuffled over to a nearby corner.
“Please! Just don’t hurt me! I’m sorry!” The voice was coarse and pained. They sounded like their throat was shutting from swelling and their vocal cords had been shrunk. But Sunset recognized the voice, the half-crazed, half-sane voice of family. Sunset looked at his brother, filled with a variety of emotions including hate, anger, callousness, as well as—and most noticeably—caring.
“Powder!” he snapped, voice cracking with his confusing mix of emotions. “I would never hurt you!”
Sunset let his brother settle himself into the dark couch and sat in front of him on the hard floor. Powder was barely keeping his eyes open; they were bruised, crusty, and weary. Sunset began thinking about the last time he had seen his brother. It was a heartbreaking moment for them both.
“I…I need help…” Powder said flatly, sniveling slightly. His left under-eye muscles twitched noticeably with each word. Sunset gave a curious look to his gray brother and sighed at his words and deathly appearance.
Powder looked like either a shell or a ghost of his former glorious appearance. His gray coat appeared more white than anything, and his blue eyes were blood shot to the point that they looked more like the coat of Jesiah. The feathers in his wings were ruffled, hanging off slightly, and some took a black tint of dying to them. His pure white mane was both thinning and reversing its colors with his coat. All of these things Sunset had seen before, but the healthy gray Pegasus gazed upon his brother’s flank.
Sunset remembered the day Powder received his Cutie Mark. Powder loved children and had made it clear to many ponies, yet no one wanted him near their families. Powder had offered to help babysitting the next door neighbors’ children for the weekend alongside their mother who reluctantly agreed out of dire need. Their mother had begun having her episodes of insanity and Sunset had to restrain her back at their home, leaving Powder to care for the children himself. Two days later, the parents returned and Powder had taken such good care of the children that he was offered money.
Of course, Powder denied it. “It’s my special talent to love and care for children,” he said and in a single flash of bright light, a brand in the shape of a foal rattle appeared on Powder’s flanks.
But now it looked more horrifying. It had taken the distorted form of a mace, ready for war.
Sunset looked over his brother and said, “You want help?”
Powder nodded helplessly and wildly, not closing his eyes for even a second.
Sunset began thinking of everything Powder had done to deserve help for his mental condition, but with each positive thoughts were three more negatives, including one that was nearly unforgiveable. Insane or not, nothing could redeem Powder for what he did.
“Why should I?” Sunset snapped.
“You just said you’d never hurt me…” Powder said with a small smile, hoping that using Sunset’s words against him might aid him.
“Yes, but I don’t have to help you either.”
There was a silence in the room, bitter and cold. The two siblings looked to the floor in thought. Powder’s only thoughts were of the things he saw out of the corner of his eyes, yet when he turned to look, they would always disappear, laughing at him evilly; all the while, Sunset was forcing himself to think of reasons to help his brother.
“Why…why can’t you just help yourself? There’s a hospital down the street…”
“I’ve tried!” the sickly Pegasus yelped in pain. “But every time I try the things come back and talk to me. They keep saying that if I stay away they’ll leave me alone, but they never do! But I can’t stop listening to them! Please take me there! Force me, hold me down, stab my leg if you have to!” Sunset chuckled at the thought of stabbing his brother’s leg. “Oh god! They’re talking to me! No no no no no no no no…”
Sunset looked at his brother curiously, watching him writhe and fall into a fetal position on the couch. He rocked back and forth, whispering to himself. Sunset leaned forward to hear what he was saying.
“Go away Harbinger. You have the moon. Go away Harbinger. You have the moon. Go away Harbinger. You have the moon.” Powder’s eyes were shut tight as he sang his mantra.
Then a pang of curiosity shot through Sunset. Harbinger. Jesiah knew something about it, but Sunset didn’t want to ask any more about it. Now he kind of wished he had. Maybe it would have shed light on what Powder was rambling about.
“Who is Harbinger?” Sunset asked his cowering brother.
“They keep talking!” his brother screeched.
“Who is Harbinger?”
“They want me to hurt Bubby…” Powder’s childish nickname for Sunset.
“Who is he?!”
“They want me to hurt people, to hurt the children! Please. I can’t hurt them. Don’t make me hurt them. Not the kids…”
It was as though he couldn’t hear and it only infuriated Sunset more, but he knew there was nothing he could do. His brother was lost for now.
“They want me to hurt Melody. No! No! Not her! Please…just stop!”
Melody. Sunset almost hit his brother for uttering the name, but when he listened to his brother’s pleas to end his misery, a sudden and undesired feeling of guilt and pity washed over him. This Pegasus was the last true family Sunset had left and was his brother as well. How could he be thinking of just letting him suffer?
But what Powder did was unforgiveable.
Maybe moving on is better? We both did that with Dad?
He hurt her.
She forgave him too.
He took her away from me!
She never wanted me!
That’s not true!
Stop!
“Go away Harbinger. You have the moon.”
Sunset looked over his brother’s pathetic and pitiful form, on his side crying into his hooves. He took a few cautious steps forward and placed a hoof on his brother’s shoulder. Powder’s crying slowly ceased and he looked upon his brother, eyes looking the sanest they had in years.
“The clinic won’t take you in right now,” Sunset said, bringing his fearful brother into a soft embrace. “We can go tomorrow morning.”
Powder only nodded. He couldn’t bring himself to speak.
“Let’s get you in bed.”
+++
Sunset felt the grasp of cold air stab at his wings—freezing his wings to his sides, throat—making it difficult to breathe, and eyes—allowing for little true, un-blurred sights through. His coat of dull fur barely kept him warm. It did not matter that his journey was only twenty feet out of his home. Sunset shuffled through the small blanket of snow upon his lawn and saw the tracks he had been making all day by walking around the lawn as well as two other pairs of hoofprints; one set belonged to Jesiah obviously as Sunset could see the soft grace with each step and the equal spacing while the second set was jagged and disharmonious to the rest. The hoofprints indicated that whoever made them was not in their right mind and should not have been out in the cold. They were Powder’s.
Sunset shuffled through the snow, jumping hoofprints already set in order to prevent his hooves from being completely frozen by the time he got to his neighbor’s door. He noticed once stepping on the patio a bucket of paint that still had wet drippings along the side. Curiously, Sunset stepped back onto the lawn and looked at the second half of the duplex home. It had been repainted completely and finely. The new beige paint made Sunset’s home look like the other half’s former, ghostly self.
Sunset felt a little jealous of his neighbor’s home; it was beautiful on the inside, even if by terrifying standards, and on the outside.
At the front door, Sunset reached forward to knock but the door swung open immediately, rushing warm air from the still burning fire onto his wings, throat, and eyes. He gasped and cooed at the feeling of warmth and, without thinking of consideration, jumped through the door, shutting it behind him.
The gray Pegasus looked all around himself, but could see no sign of Jesiah anywhere except his fedora on the piano ahead of him and a strange feeling of his presence...no, a presence near him.
“Um…hello?” Sunset called out worriedly.
“I’m upstairs!” Jesiah’s voice rang out through the house.
“Upstairs?” Sunset whispered to himself. “There are no upstairs.”
“Sorry! I meant attic! Still not used to being in a house.”
There wasn’t an attic either. Well, one that was accessible. It had been blocked off from the inside, a strange occurrence but Sunset never questioned it.
Sunset blindly followed his memory to where the attic doorway was. There was a door with a latch that had been snapped by something red—as there was red on the latch—and the door was gaping open, revealing a set of stair that led to the attic entrance. He scaled the stairs quickly but found the entrance to be blocked by awkwardly stacked boxes. They were stacked too tall for him to fly over it and the inconvenience made him groan. Starting with the small wooden crate at the top, Sunset began digging his way through the boxes.
“What are you digging out of here?” Sunset hollered, but when Jesiah didn’t reply, he became worried. “Jesiah?”
The attic was cold and dank. Sunset did not like being there. It was dark except for the single lamp hanging from a rusty hook in the rafters. There was a large bundle of boxes that seemed to be empty.
“What’s with all the boxes?” Sunset said, half-expecting the silence that came.
There was a creaking from above Sunset in the rafters but when he looked up he saw nothing. Literally. It was all pitch black and the light from the lamp was being swallowed by the abyss.
Creak…
“Who’s up there?” His voice cracked slightly, unsure of his situation. Yet he braved his fear and thought for a moment. He blew out the flame in the lamp and allowed his eyes to adjust to the diabolical blackness of the storage-loft.
A silhouette hung from the rafters, huge and monstrous. It was darker than the dark, and it frightened yet intrigued Sunset. It looked like it had massive arms that dangled from its triangular body, but Sunset couldn’t be sure as he strained his eyes to view the creature in the dark. But the longer he stared at the form against the dark, the more Sunset came to realize that it was looking back.
“Jesiah?” Sunset whispered fearfully, hoping that it was all a trick. “Is that you?”
The soft sound of hooves clopping against the wooden floor to the beat of “Requiem” startled Sunset. Not by its abruptness, but because of his sudden realization that what he was looking at was not Jesiah.
The scared Pegasus stepped back with each hoof hitting the floor in sync with his racing heartbeat. He fell back into the pile of boxes and saw Jesiah’s large Pegasi form. His blue eyes glowed against the darkness. Jesiah put the boxes back up where they had been prior to Sunset’s intrusion.
“Your eyes…” Sunset started.
“I can see in the dark,” Jesiah whispered straining. He looked at Sunset and put an invisible hoof to his chest. “Listen to me. That thing is an assassin. Nopony knows that I own this place so they must be after you.”
Sunset’s mouth gaped. “What?”
“Shh…Okay? It won’t attack unless it knows that we can both see it. Right now it thinks that I haven’t seen it. You looked at it for too long.”
“What the hell is that thing?!” Sunset exclaimed silently. His heart raced at the thought of death. Whatever that thing was, it was real and obviously present for ominous purposes.
“It’s called an Ytrium. It’s not from Equestria. Actually, it’s native to Tartarus, but a few get out every now and then.”
“What…um…” The only things that Sunset could think of—whether they be brought upon by his inert fear of the dark he had displaced as a filly or the simple fact he didn’t know what it looked like in completeness—was whether it would kill him and then eat him or eat him alive or something along the lines of it being a ponyeating monster.
“And no, it won’t eat you…” Jesiah replied as though he read Sunset’s mind. Again.
“Then why is it here!?” Sunset yelped quietly.
“I can’t really explain that right now. We are underneath a being that can think and kill. The question is how long it’s been waiting here.”
“What do you mean?” Sunset, despite fearing for his life, was complete intrigued by the entire situation. There was monster from Tartarus in his attic and a supposedly immortal Pegasus next to him that can see in the dark with glowing eyes.
“The door is blocked on your side of the attic and you always lock your doors. Someone obviously wants it to look like you let somepony in and they killed you. That way it would draw attention elsewhere so it decided to go through my half of the house, but like I said the entrance to your half via attic has been blocked…”
“Why doesn’t it just move it?”
“The Ytrium aren’t strong, they are fast. The metal bars in the door would require the strength of fourteen of me. And let’s just say that I’ve arm wrestled bears. By the way, don’t look up.”
Sunset raised an eyebrow and felt a wisp of foul, warm breath against his mane. He shook in his place and did not dare look up. He would surely scream if his fears had been confirmed.
“The good thing is that these boxes are light and we can just move them tonight.” He wasn’t whispering anymore and it frightened Sunset to the point of wanting to break into tears.
Sunset looked at Jesiah stupidly. “What?”
The red Pegasus gave a wink, yet Sunset still could not follow.
“By the way, did you hear about the dog that would only attack its prey if the prey saw it? Also, there was this crazy fellow, Doug I think his name was, that had a magic act and would sometimes use the fire to go back to his friend’s home.”
Sunset nodded.
“Oh, I almost forgot! My hat’s on the piano. Would you mind going and getting it please?”
Sunset nodded a second time and, still shaking, shuffled through the stack of light boxes. When he jumped through the attic doorway, he raced down the stairs and at the base of the stairs he heard a screech of primal anguish and…
Kaboom!
Sunset saw nothing after that. Something slammed into the back of his head, but the explosion had sent his unconscious body flying backwards.
+++
The grandmaster piano burnt to a charred crisp in front of Sunset as a small, fragile, gray form dragged him by his left hoof. It was a slow and steady crawl, but they were inching near the exit. Sunset, vision blurred by waking, saw his twin half of the house missing chunks of wall, the fireplace shattered, and things burning. Above was a bright blue light that was covering him and his savior.
“We have to get him out of here!”
Sunset began to think about the past several hours of his life. It had happened all so fast. A musically gifted Pegasus who knew Sunset more than he knew had waltzed into his life as though it were by complete chance; Sunset knew it wasn’t by chance. Chance is false. There’s only do or don’t.
Just like Sunset didn’t have to go and see Jesiah to tell him that Powder was back. He didn’t have to go and find out there was something trying to kill him. But he did.
It wasn’t chance that Sunset had picked the home that was twins with Jesiah’s. In fact, Sunset remembered his mother telling him to pick the place so they could be relatively close to one another. Had his mother been in on his father’s lies as well?
What if they weren’t lies at all?
Sunset’s mind raced with thoughts as he was slowly pulled into the cold snow outside. He felt himself being lifted onto somepony’s back and carried away like that.
A thought came through Sunset’s head that frightened him more than the creature that was to kill him. Had Jesiah been the one sent to kill him? He said the creature had been waiting for a long time but why hadn’t it just attacked. Unless the creature was supposed to protect Sunset from Jesiah!
Sunset shook his head at the idiocy he was imagining. Jesiah was far too kind and childish to be a killer.
“What happened?” Sunset heard his brother’s voice crack fearfully. He felt his brother’s hoof on his chest as they pulled him.
“I kind of blew up a monster that explodes when it dies…”
“What?” Powder said confusedly.
“Well, the Ytrium carry a lot of energy and that’s why they’re great killers so when they die, they expel most of it…”
The bright light above descend slowly and Sunset lost consciousness with one thought probing the back of his mind:
Why had Powder acted so casually about Jesiah’s explanation?
And why was Powder even trusting Jesiah in the first place?
