I
I… am of little consequence to this world. I live in this house, a good distance away from the nearest, it’s a large and mostly empty house but it’s mine. My name is Bold Text; I’m not a very interesting stallion, my coat is a common brown and my mane is or was black, I write text books for a living, my cutie mark is a scribbling quill for obvious reasons. I live my life in a way very different from most ponies as I feel most comfortable in what most would call boredom. I’m not emotionless: I smile, I laugh, but I also enjoy an uneventful life. I wake up every day, I settle into my arm chair with a book from my collection on the bookshelf nearby; occasionally glancing at the similar empty chair next to me, finally I admire the pictures on the wall. My life is peaceful, boring to some, but it doesn’t matter. I’m just passing the time until I eventually pass; it’s not that I’m nihilistic, but I am a realist. I have crow’s feet, wrinkles, my mane and tail have faded from a proud black to a dull gray. Anyone who sees me knows that it’s only a matter of time and I’m perfectly fine with that. These pictures on the walls; they’re of my dearly departed wife. She was the only excitement I ever really enjoyed despite being this way since as far back as I can remember.
I remember the first day we met. I was on one of my rare trips to town. In my youth I was average in every regard; average build, average appearance, and uninterested brown eyes. I was making my way through town with several books in my saddle bags when a strikingly beautiful earth pony mare with a long mandarin colored mane turned the corner and bumped into me. I gathered my wits and started towards her. A look of shock and fear spread over her as I drew closer, which melted into one of surprise when I began merely gathering my books: one lay next to her ruby cutie mark. She seemed to be surprised by my lack of interest in her. She began helping, becoming shy and sheepish whenever my hoof would touch her pristine white hoof. She immediately looked away whenever our eyes met, she had lovely blue eyes; as I found out in between glances. When we were finished she apologized and explained that she was being chased by suitors; it turns out that she was the object of admiration in Ponyville. She had become fed up with all the attention, especially because no one really knew anything about her, they just liked her because she was beautiful. I told her that I didn’t care that she was pretty or not but as far as I could tell she was a nice mare. It was something I never expected, she became someone who was happy to see me whenever I came to town: maybe it was because I was the first stallion to look past her beauty and listen to her, but we grew to care for each other. Eventually we got married and she made me get out of the house every now and again. For some reason I didn’t mind having to do such things as long as she was with me, I’d even say I enjoyed it. Life moved forward and we lived ever in love, peacefully… until she passed from this world.
Most ponies would go mad if they found the love of their lives dead next to them but she didn’t die of illness or in pain, it was peaceful; my lovely Gem Stone had look of bliss and calm in her face like she was still just asleep in the middle of good dream. I had her buried in a nearby field that she loved to frolic through. Her passing made realize my own age and mortality, but there wasn’t anything I could do about it so I decided that I would die as she did, peacefully; she would have wanted me to live a peaceful life until my time came as well. I resolved to live my life as if she was still there.
It happened one night when I was up late reading in my living room. The sound of crying drifted through the air and I got up to investigate. The area around my house was sparsely dotted with woodland terrain, the road closest to my house ran right through a small forest and was well traveled as it connected Canterlot to Ponyville. I walked out into the moonlit night and tried to find the source of the crying. I came upon a huddled mass of small, furry, apelike creatures: imps, they had a habit of mischief but always stopped before their fun got too mean. Their faces told me that they had just done something that they really regretted. They stepped back and I saw a cyan foal with a rainbow mane. They dispersed and I picked her up, she stopped crying when I held her: I looked around carefully to try and find her parents but I could find no lights other than the moon so I took it upon myself to care for her until I could find other arrangements. In my house the light revealed that she had gotten dirty and a little wet out in the forest so I prepared towels and a bath. The water was shallow but I kept a close eye on her, she splashed and giggled as I washed her mane. My wife and I never thought about kids, we never made any effort to have any, and when we did she never got pregnant. When I rinsed her mane she began to sniffle so I took it as a sign that she was done. After she dried off I settled her into a bed in the guest room but she refused to stay and kept flying after me, I don’t know how pegasi keep their children down for bed time. I yielded and allowed her to sleep in my bed, I went to bed that night not knowing that she was just the beginning.
The next day played out much the same way it always did except for the foal flying around. She entertained herself for hours by flying, stopping when she was tired to snuggle up to me as I read, I think she enjoyed it when I read aloud but she enjoyed flying more. Night fell and because of her flying the whole day I managed to get her to sleep in her own bed. Nearly asleep; I heard the faint sound of crying, I rushed to the room where she was sleeping but she was still sound asleep. It was coming from outside, I slipped out and , made my way towards the sound finding yet another foal, a lavender colored unicorn. My first thought was that the imps hadn’t learned their lesson but there was no sign of them. I took this one in too, giving her a bath and laying her in the bed with the other, she was much more obedient and slept almost immediately. The next day was interesting as the two seemed to enjoy playing with each other, the purple one showed a natural gift for magic. It continued, day after day until I had gathered six foals. I didn’t get much reading done but it was nice to see them interacting. The pink foal had an energy that would put hyperactive toddlers to shame, the white unicorn aimlessly fiddled with my late wife’s fabrics, the orange earth pony chased the pink one playfully, but the cream colored one seemed to bond to the cyan one. They took to each other like lifelong friends sometimes they would gather to hear me read. It occurred to me that the Summer Sun Celebration was just held, these foals may have been lost while their families traveled. I fed them a fine paste that I made from some fruits that I would grow in the back of my house; the orange one’s appetite overtook my own by surprising degrees.
My house was well out of the way so I sent a letter to the local paper and took out an add to say that I had found foals. It wasn’t long before it was printed and an azure pegasus stallion knocked at my door. His rainbow mane told me who he was looking for, before he was able to calm his frantic breathing.
“Don’t worry, she’s alright come on in”, I motioned him in and he tentatively entered.
“… You said you found more than one?’, he said as he came upon the sight of the foals playing.
“Fate has had fun with me this week”, I smiled.
His foal immediately recognized him and flew over to him, it was a tender reunion. He expressed his gratitude for my care of his daughter and left. Soon I received more visitors and one by one the foals were claimed; tears of joy were shed and families were brought back together. They all left, all but one. I waited and waited but no one ever came to claim the cream colored pegasus. She was such a pretty foal, it was hard for me to believe that nobody was missing her. Finally a month passed and I decided that even if somepony came they couldn’t have her, not after making her wait so long. I watched over her every day, fed her and rocked her to sleep at night. She grew and grew, eventually I had to send her to school and there came other difficulties; as an earth pony I had nothing to offer her in terms of flight instruction, I think it’s my fault she loves the ground so much. I tried my best to give her everything I could: dresses for special occasions, supplies for school, and anything she asked for. My peaceful life became a thing of the past but I felt like it was okay, it was just like with my wife, I would go through trouble yet enjoy it. My habit of avoiding excitement was unfortunately passed to her in a big way, she became afraid of almost everything but when she would cry and I would hold her I felt the same defiant spark as with my wife. If she really needed to I’m sure that she could overcome her fears. I often thought about how selfish I was for deciding to raise her myself, I spent the remainder of my life just waiting for it all to end and now that I had someone to live for; I was scared. Every night when I went to sleep I was scared that I wouldn’t wake up, scared that I’d leave her alone in this world. Finally time came for flight school, she wouldn’t be the fastest but I was proud that she could fly with an earth pony as a father. I visited her from time to time, the little blue foal I had found had matured into a headstrong filly but they became best friends again, after all that time. It put my heart at ease that she had someone to turn to but that didn’t mean I was ready to die just yet.
Time passed as it always did; it seemed like only yesterday that she came home for Hearth’s Warming but now she returned with a cutie mark and a grand story about how she got it. Hearing her tell that story with such excitement gave me more pride than I would have ever had on my own. She matured even more; her mane was longer and she had become so beautiful I could almost swear that she was our biological daughter. I took to calling her Angel after some legend I read about beautiful winged creatures. She was as timid as I was yet as lovely as my wife. I grew frail as she grew more beautiful; she began to worry about me and refused to leave my side despite my protests to go start her life.
As I lay here, on my bed, I’ve had a long time to consider everything. Ponies always worry about destiny; I think my destiny was to find those foals and care for them like they were my own even if it was just for a few days. I was a normal colt that became a normal, boring stallion but somewhere along the lines I let myself care about other ponies which led to an eventful life; despite that I can’t say that I didn’t enjoy every moment. My body has become very frail and this bed is so warm I don’t want to get up anymore; I can’t find the strength for anything other than holding my daughter. She cries a lot these days, usually when she looks at me, I don’t know what I did to make her so sad but I hope she can forgive me. I’m not sure of what happens after we die, maybe we move onto a better place, maybe we reincarnate, or maybe we fade into the collective consciousness of the world: it's among the list of things I never thought about before. I see a young doctor come and go, he talks to her and she starts to cry again… I wonder what he said to her. I woke up again; she was laying her head on the edge of my bed, the area she was sleeping on was damp with tears. It broke my heart to see her so sad, she woke up and looked up at me with red, puffy eyes like I was performing a miracle.
I wrapped her in the strongest hug I could muster, “Please don’t be sad Angel, I’ve been allowed to be alive far longer than I should have. I was able to see you grow from a foal to a beautiful young mare and that all I could really ask for… but you don’t need me anymore. You might be sad when for a little while and it’s alright to cry; it’s alright to cry when you’re sad, or upset, or even happy; in my opinion happy tears are the best, but eventually the tears have to stop so you can move forward. I love you so please be happy.”
My words served to make her cry a little harder but then she was able to look at me with a brilliant smile, a smile that said to me that she would be alright. She spent the day taking care of my like the days when I took care of her as a foal: she fed me, helped me stay warm, and attended to my every whim. Night fell and we were both falling asleep. She fell asleep first and I admired her as my own eyes grew heavy. I don’t know how I knew but I was sure of it, this was it, after my eyes closed they would never open again. I had just told her not to be sad but now that it was the end, I was sad. Gem, if you could see her, I know you’d be so proud of her: she isn’t related to us by blood and she never met you but she is our daughter all the same. In a perfect world we would have lived together as a real family, but the world isn’t perfect, and unlike books it can’t be revised. I find a deep sadness creeping into my heart, not at the prospect of death but that I can’t see where her life will go. Who will she fall in love with? Who will she marry? What will my grandchildren be like? How will she go on? Will others see exactly how special she is? Will other understand the depths of her strength and kindness? I feel that she will one day mean so much to so many. Even if she isn’t a hero or royalty, I feel like I’ve done the world a great service by raising her. I hope she turns out better than me. I hope that she doesn’t isolate herself like I did. I hope she can open her heart to others like I never could. Above all else I hope she can forgive me for not being there the rest of the way. Oh no she’s waking up, her face is so frantic but my eyes are so heavy. Don’t cry please don’t cry. I didn’t want her to see me fade away, why couldn’t she wake up when I already passed. Now I want to live: a few more days, a few more hours, a few more minutes, a few more seconds, just long enough to tell her everything I want to tell her. I’m sorry about not being there for all of it, I’m sorry that you have to see me like this… I love you. I’m so far gone but this is my last wish; that my body will let me tell her one last thing, that the words in my heart and mind may reach her so she knows without a doubt how much I care, how much I’ll miss her. Please just let me say…
“I have to go. Goodbye my angel… goodbye my darling Fluttershy… I love you so very much… that won’t change… no matter how… far… apart…”