It was five days since the burning of Mine Manor. It was the talk of all of Fillyton. The rich, the upper class, and the middle class citizens chatted, gossiped, and wondered what happened that fateful night. But, not far from Fillyton was the blight of the city. A black spot on Equestria's map. A small group of two story apartments that housed the whores, pushers, vagrants, and junkies could not care if something happened to one of the elite that lived nearby. This was a place where the wealthy came for their dirty secrets and joys. As long as the money continued to funnel in, these forgotten ponies could not care what happened to the cash machines in Fillyton.
Yet, in one apartment consisting of only one bedroom, one additional room, a bath, and kitchen. One of the last two people to see Diamond and Gold Mine the night of the fire sat in the kitchen. A knife was held firm in her mouth. Brunette hair stuck, matted to her face and neck from sweat and dirt. The tip of the blade dug against her pear green calf. It would only take one upward cut to slice into her flesh. She could leave this miserable life behind her. She was tired of the guilt and the disgusting feeling she felt every time some pony touched her.
Esstee Dee grew up in a world of sadness. Ever since she was a foal her father abused her sexually and physically. He saw her as burden he had to deal with for spending time with the wrong mare from the wrong family. Even when she told her mother of what he was doing to her, her mother only laughed and began to use her to pay for her addictions or debts. When she was thirteen she fled from home to escape this life style only to fall into a similar one. Before a pimp could take her, she met a young colt two years her senior. Together they would spend the next ten years licking each others wounds after they sold their souls for addictions and bits. That colt was...
Syphcoltis had arrived home from a quick encounter with a client. His mind was reeling over the previous day's meeting with lawyers from Gold Mine. They had spoke quickly and to the point. “Are are some bits. If you speak to anyone, you wont be speaking for much longer.” Esstee and Syph tucked the bits away someplace to decide what to do with them later. He stepped up the stairs nearing their shared apartment. In his mouth, a small black box was held firmly and possessively. To the junkies flopped down like boneless chicken, he glared if they even considered looking to steal it from him. He threw his head back to bring his dyed, blue hair away from his face when he came to the apartment door. His wing moved forward curling around the brass knob twisting it to let him inside.
“Esstee, comere!” He gave a shout pushing his head past the frame. He cast his yes to the kitchen seeing the mare with the knife. The box was tossed aside from his mouth. His wings beat downwards as he lept with a lightning burst right to her. Syph's head collided with Esstee's jaw knocking the blade away. His forelegs reached out grabbing onto her. He didn't ask her why she was doing what she was doing, all he did then was hold onto her. He rested back on his haunches drawing the mare against him.
The broken mare was caught off guard when Syph came home and disarmed her. She did not even realize what he had done until he held her in a caring embrace. Just as a baby wanting attention, she began to wail out her sorrow. “I can't live like this anymore. I'm tired of the drugs. I'm tired of nameless ponies touching me.” She dug her hooves into Syph's side when she clung tighter to him. He was the only pony she seemed to always be with.
Their stories were similar in many ways. Syphcoltis lived with an abusive uncle who did things to him that even made Esstee cringe. His coat covered up the cigarette burns and scars from rope burns. His uncle used him to satisfy him self then beat the boy for being “one of them coltcoralling freaks”. He was happy when his uncle owed the wrong ponies money and was killed when he didn't have it on time. The ponies left Syph alone when he gave up his uncles supplies to them. Several years he was alone learning the tricks of the street until he met another battered pony, Esstee Dee, and decided to watch out for her. No matter how many partners either of them had, they always ended up with each other taking care of wounds and broken hearts. “Then let's not live like this anymore.” He said tilting his head down to her. “We got those bits from the lawyers, right?”
Esstee tilted her tear stained face to look at Syph's. They had talked like this before but never acted on it. It was hard to forget where you came from and get away from it. “So? What's that got to do with anything?”
“Let's run away. Get all the bits we have. We don't owe anyone but that landlord money and what he finds in here would settle any of that. Let's grab the bits, get on a train, and leave.” The Pegasus colt shifted his weight while letting go of Esstee. He set her aside a moment, trotting over to the box he tossed away before. “We'll change our names too. Heck, our cutie marks can mean lots of things. We'll get real jobs.” The box was plucked up into his mouth and he returned back to her. “No more drugs, no more johns or janes.” He said once the box was dropped down in front of the Earth Filly. “We'll turn into respectable ponies.” His hooves were careful with the box. He sat back on his rump, shifting his tail out from beneath him as he did so. The box plucked open revealing two small engagement earrings. “They're not much. The rubies are flawed and the gold isn't pure... but I wanted to get you something nice.”
It wouldn't have mattered if they were made of plastic. The act alone broken away the barriers of depression that shackled her into this life style. Her hooves came to touch over her mouth staring at each precious piece of jewelry. “I want to be called Mending Heart. I want to be a nurse.” She croaked out. Syph set the box down and pulled out of the earrings with his teeth. He was careful coming to Esstee's ear and pushing it into the pin sized hole. He did the other ear next and returned in front of her. His hooves held onto her hooves.
“Then let's go. Right now. We'll get married somewhere down the line and we'll take care of each other. You'll be Mending Heart, and I'll be Castle Breaker. I bet I can do demolition just fine and all.” He grinned brightly coming over next to her, lowering his wing down to comfort her.
“But...” She said looking away. “I can't give you a foal.” It was two years after they met she had been given the news. The damage her father had done to her ruined any chance of conception of even being able to be with child. The gloom returned to her face but a hoof to her chin brought her lips to Syph's.
“Then we'll adopt. There are plenty of foals who have gone through what we have. We can give them what no one else can. Loving parents, a good home, and a place to feel safe when the world abandoned them. Come on. Leave everything but what we can put into our saddlebags.” With Syph leading Esstee, they packed very few possessions and the bits they acquired or saved up. Separate they would never be able to kick their addictions or leave the abuse they were so accustomed to. Together everything was going to be overcome and a bright future ahead of them.
They boarded the first train to the first town they never heard of. They gave their names as Mending Heart and Castle Breaker. Their past would not chain them to a life of destruction anymore. Their future would lead them into warmth and happiness. Sometimes all it takes is a little faith, and a little love to move mountains of despair.
Leeches. They were all leeches suckling on the life blood of ponies they considered lower lifeforms compared to them. Yet these ponies whom many never built their own wealthy, many never broke a sweat to work, or attributed to the success of the tiny empires they built. No, they simply took and took never caring for the hardships of the ponies who's backs they took from. They sicked me. Why was even here? Forced to listen to them prattle on about fashion, being disrespected by not given what they wanted, and ignorant gossip about one another lives.
Why was I here among the aristocracy? This is a party in my honor. I glanced around the ballroom. The colors and tapestries displayed the royal colors and seals of Equestria and, most notably, Princess Celestia. Waitresses toured the gathered ponies offering drinks or snacks. An ensemble of musicians played classical music from a clam shell shaped stage off to one side of the room. I was approached to be spoken to by two ponies, I gathered their names were Fet Set and Dupper Must or something. They spoke around me carrying on a conversation only acting that I was apart of it. Their dribble was making me crave a hard cider. I actually wished I was back in the place that granted me the honor being here. Yes, that battle scared field.
One month ago I was given the title of 'Hero of Clearsky Valley'. On the eastern border of Equestria, the tribes of the Kobolds and the tribes of the Minotaur had begun another conflict. For years they inhabited one nation, conflicts would arise but quickly falter under the advice and guidance of other countries and especially Equestria. When this war threatened to spill over onto pony soil, Celestia ordered a medical camp to be established to offer aid to soldiers who could no longer fight and needed to seek shelter. The only condition was they had to return home after seeking aid, and not return to the battlefield. I volunteered to act as a nurse simply seeking a quick way to make extra bits.
For the first month it was a simple job. Minotaurs shuffled into the camps with the mildest of complaints just hoping not to have to return to battle. Sadly, in order to accommodate the ones who needed help, they were turned away. I spent my time either cooking or sterilizing bandages. We rarely saw any kobolds to think of. Everything was calm until one fateful, snowing morning.
I pressed my back against the cold window forcing my thoughts back to present when the chill rushed through me. There was not a reason right now to relive the event that brought me to this party tonight. I brought my eyes down to my body. Once I was given my title the Princess personally saw that I was given various gifts. Bits, recognition, knighthood, a dress, and I could request one personal favor. The dress I was wearing now. Some up and coming designer was awarded the chance to make it. The hem at the bottom looked like pie crust, the front and back the same, with the sides a purple blue mimicking blueberry filling. I hated this dress. It was gaudy, tacky, and made me look like food.
The favor was a painful gift to have. I could have requested nearly anything. I could have completed the purpose I gave to my self. I could have freed... her. But, I could not abandon my family. So I had our land returned to us instead. It was not much, but I would not turn my flank to them. I gazed out the window staring at the falling snow. Her. She would be twelve this coming spring. Every birthday I have missed of her's I buy gifts and tuck them away. Then cry my self to sleep. Was she eating right still? Was she even alive... I didn't want to consider the thought that they disposed of her.
“Ah, the Hero of Clearsky Valley.” A familiar voice spoke to him. I downed the last of my wine then let my hoof release the glass onto a table nearby. Dangles of cyan splashed with plum tones at the tips partially clouded my eyes when they came to the source of the voice. It was the captain of the guard, Iron Mind. This was our first meeting, but I knew all about him. The son of Gold Mine. He left his father and mother when he could and never looked back. From what I had been told when I asked some of the rich and famous here, he hadn't even contacted them since he became a guard. I wanted to hate him, but the good things I always heard kept my from doing so. Why hate him? He was a fine guard captain, took time for citizens, volunteered for charities, and helped old ponies across the road. Why hate such a man?
Because he never went home. Maybe if he had just gone home once since she was born he would have seen the signs, saw the changes, asked questions. Anything at all to change the course of history. He didn't though. I wanted to hate him just for being Gold Mine's son but I couldn't. He is a handsome pony after all. Black mane and tail acting as a a backdrop displaying the silver of his eyes. His steel silver coat groomed without a single hair out of place. I could assume he was always such as but knowing how he took his duties this was a rare sight. He was tight with muscles on his hind legs and could probably buck a rock a few miles. I smiled.
“A pleasure, Captain of the Guard.” I spoke modestly bowing my head down. I would refer to him in title as he referred to me. My hooves slid effortlessly across the ground letting my self raise back up. He chuckled at my display and I offered the same.
“I am nae royalty, please, I am a pony as you and nothing more.” Such modesty for a unicorn. It was befitting his image. I pictured what he must look like in his armor. Surely it added to the heroic image he naturally cast. A part of me wondered if he would ever wear that armor before making love to a pony. I got my mind from the gutter quickly when the guards at the main door sounded their trumpets. Every pony in the room raised their heads to the door then lowered their torsos down to the floor in deep bow. Gold Mine and my self did the same, but I kept my eyes forward watching.
Indeed, Princess Celestia was now amongst us. Her beauty radiant, her kindness ever lasting, and her rule benevolent. She tried to please every pony who had a problem, but knew that she could not solve every situation that came at her hooves. There were still laws in place that she was bound by. Only in the most dire of situations did she break them, although no pony would stop her if she tyrannically forced her will. Every hoof step appeared planned. Her eyes caught the face of every pony present giving each of them a moment to be shown that they knew they were there.
Ever at her side, was something of a little miracle I had been told. A unicorn maybe thirteen or fourteen was at her side. She bore a coat of indigo, as pretty as a flower's natural colors. Her mane and tail a deep midnight blue with a strip of hot pink and purple side by side down both. Bright eyes, eager to see and learn, were kept mostly on Celestia as they entered together. She was known as Twilight Sparkle. The Princess' personal student I had been told before arriving here. Listening to some of the talk the ponies at this party had said before the trumpets played, they didn't much care for her. Twilight wasn't of proper noble birth, or their foal was far more gifted, or they whispered of rumors that suggested the princess to be some sort of deviant or predator. These ponies speaking ill of the teenage foal were two faced and rotten. She followed her teacher carefully, a few steps behind, gradually coming to the main stage before a grand window.
I can give you power.
A voice, I heard a voice speaking to me now. I broke my bow just as the others did and glanced around swiftly to catch the perpetrator. No pony else reacted to the sound. Was I hearing things or could I only hear it?
I can grant your wish.
The voice came to me again as the Princess came to the edge of the stage standing next to a podium with a velvet wrapped box set atop. “Mares and Gentlecolts. Tonight we celebrate a heroine of Equestria. As every pony is aware, a war was colliding at our borders. In an effort to calm the needless loss of life. I allowed our military to setup a medical site to stem the blood shed.”
Would you become what you hate to save what you love?
“An agreement of aid would turn into bloodshed when the Kobolds broke their vow of no battle on pony territory or the medical site, and attacked it to kill their Minotaur enemies. As the battle turned against the pony soldiers and lives were lost, a pony with no training in combat stood proud and tall and declared she would not back down.” I tried to focus on the voice in my head but Celestia's speech caused my mind to recall that fateful morning. Pony weapons were similar, but the hilts were unlike those used by our fingered neighbors. The metal hilts looks like small cages that snapped onto a pony's hoof. These specialty hilts were only used on weapons to give a pony an advantage in battle. You would be amazed how a pony could go from bucking to boxing without missing a beat.
With a sword attached to each hoof, and even holding a small Kobold weapon in my mouth, I had fought off enemy after enemy until a company of Celestia's knights arrived to fight off the attackers. I can still feel the burning of fire around me. The way it caused the lifeless bodies to glow. Magic erupting and sparking drawing forth unnatural forms of fighting to try and stem the tide. My hind hooves were dug into the ground having snow up to my ankles to keep balance each time I swung at another encroaching foe. When the help did arrive, I don't recall what happened after. I was told later that they found me laying amongst fifteen fallen enemies, only I still breathing.
I can help you. Do you want it? Do you want power?
“This pony, a mare to be admired, will now receive the Medal of Eden. The highest honor to be given to a civilian aiding the military. Her acts were courageous, selfless, and shows what ponies can do in times of duress. This pony deserves respect. This pony deserves the honor we can give her.”
Well?
“This Pony is...”
Yes. I want it. I want power. I want to help her, I need to free her. I don't care what I must do. I don't care what I become. As long as I can see her smile again. I'll become what I hate. I'll do what I must.
“Miss Blueberry Pie!”
I will save you Eclipse. Even if I must burn Equestria to ash. I will save you.
The crowd was deathly silent. Every pony leaned over the edge of their cloud stadium box seats staring down at the earth below. Two Wonderbolts had been knocked unconscious by the white unicorn they had flown after to save. The tension was at its highest point when they heard the words “Don't worry Rarity! I'm coming for ya!High above the crowd. A streak of rainbow followed directly behind the cyan pegasus mare. Her tail and mane appearing to extend forever in the rich blue sky. The moment that she caught the three falling ponies, a large boom echoed across Cloudsdale. The bright glow of a circular rainbow expanded out at the point that the boom came from. Soon, the cyan pegasus had curved around over the top of the stadium landing perfectly with the three in tow. Rainbow Dash had performed her second Sonic Rainboom of her career. Rainbow Dash went on to win the Young Fliers Competition and earned the respect of the Wonderbolts she had saved.
For one pony in attendance it was a defining moment in her life. From their seating at the highest wall, a family of two daughters, a mother, and a father watched the entire event unfold. They cheered as loudly as the others when the mare rescued the ponies. One of the daughters, Color Copy, took the image of the cyan pony rising up from the ground to her heart. This was two months ago.
Now, laying on her cloud bed in her bedroom, Color Copy pictured the scene over and over again in her mind. Though, instead of Rainbow Dash, she saw her self doing it all. She fantasied receiving the praise for the Sonic Rainboom and saving the Wonderbolts. Mares crowded her throwing flowers and blowing kisses as she pumped her hooves to the air. The fantasy was just that; a fantasy. The reality of the situation was mundane.
Color Copy was a twenty year old pegasus with no job still living with her parents. Her mane, tail, wings, and coat were all pure, snow white in color. Her eyes would have been white if not for the glimmer of silver in the iris. Her cutie mark was often the source of scorn from other ponies. Accusations that she drew it on everyday with a black marker stayed with her even after school ended and she was fired from her first job. Her cutie mark was considered plan and unoriginal. It was the outline of a faceless mask with only an emotionless mouth present. Her special talent is what let her stand with her peers after their tormenting ended. Color Copy could mimic the voice of any pony perfectly. She might have even been able to do other things but never tried. If she was given ten minutes to observe a pony, she could even copy their attitude and mannerisms. This gift saw her expelled from three educational schools, flight camp, and the loss of four jobs.
In her room, her front legs beneath her head, she laid on her back staring up at the cloud ceiling. Her room was nothing as a mare's room should have been. There were wall to wall posters of various celebrity fillies. Among the posters were Fleur-De-Lis laying casually on a bed of lilies, the Wonderbolts captain Spitfire staring seductively over her shoulder as she lowered her uniform, regal portraits of Princess Celestia and Princess Luna, and various other mare models. On her ceiling were the images of an up and coming model. Her shy demeanor, her canary yellow coat, pastel pink mane, and innocent eyes. The pegasus in the portraits always appeared in her fantasies of heroism each day. Yes, the room should have belonged to a teenage colt, but in fact was Color Copy's.
“Hey, Marker Butt! Mom says breakfast is ready!” The sound of Color Copy's younger sister, Lilac Breeze, howled from behind her door. Copy groaned in annoyance at having her fantasy time broken yet again.
“Shut up, Flower Butt, I'll be down in a minute!” All four legs and hooves pointed skyward, flailed in tiny circles, then dropped back down pointing in four different direction. “Brave as Rainbow Dash...” Voice muttered softly thinking back to her dreams. She had a secret she hadn't revealed to her family. It was something she felt certain would get her kicked out! Disowned! Assassinated! Whipped! Or even dunked in frosting for! Telling them would be a step in the direction she needed to go. She thrust her body upwards sitting up on the bed. Frazzled bedhead mane jutting out every which way around her. “I'll do it!”
Off her bed and onto all fours, Color Copy rushed out her bedroom. The cloud door slammed against the wall sending whiffs of fog out. A fast trot brought her down the steps where she froze up instantly. Her eyes became dreamy, a goofy smile on her lips. She leaned her head back sniffing the air taking in the sweet aroma of fried dandelions and eggs. Ah it was so nice living at home. She hustled into the kitchen gazing at the usual scene for the morning.
Copy's father, Thick Mist, sat at the head of the table in the kitchen. He was a stout, muscular stallion that would caused intimidation just being in a room. He was a head over most other males. He was referred to as a gentle giant. Someone who was imposing but wouldn't harm even a fly. He bore a scruffy, thick bread a dark pink color. His mane and tail salmon and his coat vanilla. His cutie mark depicted foggy weather over town setting. In his normal position, he sat with his hooves holding a newspaper apart glancing over the articles. The sound of a grunt was the only offering he knew Copy had entered the kitchen.
Healing Gust, Copy's Mother, stood in front of a sizzling frying pan over a hot stove. Lightning clouds could do amazing things for cooking if only unicorns and earth ponies knew how to use them. A nurse at Cloudsdale General, Gust worked long hours, came home to fix the house, then went right back again. The sisters feared her punishment far more than their father's. Whenever they would hear 'Just wait till your mother gets home', it sent them into frenzies. Lemon mane, kept in a bun considering her work, played off lime green coat. Her cutie mark was simple two adhesive strips placed in a X formation on her flank. Front hooves worked the pans in front of her and the accompanying flipper. “Mornin, Snow.” Gust spoke part of Color Copy's nickname when she came in.
Finally, there was Copy's youngest sister, Lilac Breeze. The filly was four years Copy's minor. The youngest of 3 siblings she encompassed the very nature of a bratty, baby sibling. Her hair was orchid purple styled in a spiky, every which way fashion. She claimed it was the in look for ponies her age who were rebels. She cut her tail short adding extensions to change the color from the normal orchid to Prussian blue. Copy thought it looked hideous. Lilac's coat was colored maroon. It had an odd clash with her mane but this only fit her attitude of wanting to be seen. Lilac got her cutie mark at a younger age than either of her sister's. She was experimenting with her mother's perfume, something that would have had Copy and her sister's hides tanned for, and discovered a smell that caused her mother to receive quite the attention from colts at work. This brought the marking of lilacs blowing in the wind on her flank.
“I am a fillyfooler! I love mares! I kiss girls!” Color Copy stomped her front hooves against the ground demanding the attention of her family. Her mother simply nodded. Her father lowered the paper a moment, arched his eye brows, kept one eye partially closed and the other open, then returned to his paper. Her sister only shrugged sipping from a glass of orange juice. “I... I said I'm a fillyfooler...” She squeaked out wondering about the reaction.
“We heard you, dear.” Her father finally chimed. Mist folded his newspaper up lowering it down in front of him. Gust brought over his plate of food, balancing it on one hoof and one for Lilac on the other. “But we've known for sometime. It isn't a big deal.”
“But.. how?”
“For one there are those posters in your room. When I lived at the dorms for my private school those were the posters colts had up.” He gave a brisk nod munching on a butter fried flower.
Color Copy felt hollow. She was going to have a large triumph and feel liberated. Now, she only felt that her big coming out was for nothing. “Just having posters doesn't prove a thing!”
“Remember when I took you to meet Fleur-De-Lis to get her autograph? Your wings shot up fast enough they knocked somepony out.” Mist glanced up to his disheveled daughter motioning a hoof for her to sit down. “Sit and eat your breakfast.” He ordered when Gust brought over the last two plates.
“That... That was an accident!” Her cheeks became inflamed, glowing off the snow white of her coat. She shuffled her hooves over the cloud floor dropping down onto a chair at the table. She spied her sister, Lilac, snickering each time she exchanged the look.
“Of course I also pay your sister ten bits a week to read your diary. Keeps me in the loop.”
The white pegasus fell face first into the plate of breakfast. She ate a quick share, tallying her thoughts to retort what her dad had said. Copy had done the same thing to her oldest sister so it shouldn't have been a surprise that Lilac did it to her. There was only one final offensive move she could muster to battle back. “Mom!” She whined raising up her head again staring at her peaceful mother.
Gust hadn't said much since the announcement. She was even less surprise than the other two. “It's good you've finally decided to tell us dear. There is this wonderful mare, a wing doctor!” She exclaimed nibbling at one of the yellow flowers. “Not one of those cosmetic surgeons but an actual surgeon. She likes younger fillies, in her forties, good amount of bits. She'd be able to take care of you dear! It isn't like you can hold down a job so perhaps you can hold down a nice, stable mare?” Healing Gust meant no ill with her words. She wasn't trying to be mean nor bring her daughter down. She cared but in a dysfunctional manner.
Nothing more was said. There wasn't anything more that could be said. Nothing else was said on the subject of her preference for love interest, her mother's suggestion, or anything else that might make her want to crawl into a storm cloud. Pushing past her sister's constant snickers and kicks from beneath the table, Color Copy went to retreat back to her bedroom. Back to her bed she resumed the position laying on her back staring at the pictures of the canary yellow model.
She closed her eyes retreating again back into her fantasy. This time the images of being cheered upon, loved by all, and being the center of attention were thrown aside and filled with ponies simply knowing what she did but not caring. It was a hard way for your brain to laugh at you. “Fine!” She shouted at her self. The first step she had taken was to come out to her parents. Now she would make her dream of becoming like Rainbow Dash a reality. The rest of the day was spent collecting blankets, sewing needles, thread, and snack foods. She cut, tore, and mismatched the various fabrics together.
Minutes turned into hours, hours into nightfall when she finally completed the makeshift uniform. It looked horrendous but it would due. Once she applied dye to her body no one would know she wasn't the pony that won the young fliers competition. Her plan was to leave the moment it was done, but her body had other plans. She dropped back again to her bed. Color Copy ignored the calls for dinner earlier, she had skipped lunch before that, and now she was too tired to worry about either. The image of the pegasus model over head, she remembered that she was to appear in Cloudsdale in a few days. If she left home to pursue her new life she would miss out on meeting her latest infatuation. “I'll go after that...” She murmured drifting back into slumber.
The meeting would never take place. Rumors spread that the model simply quit a day before her she was to appear without a single foreword. It would be several more months before Color Copy left to pursue her plans. That story is to be told elsewhere.
After Hours was an old earth pony. His coat teal and his mane and tail once cream color was now a off shade of gray and white. He had earned his cutie mark, a giant eye set against an old pocket watch, after he stayed up all night for seven nights in a row without a hint of fatigue. For fifty years, now in his early seventies, he was the night watch pony for the Canterlot Museum. After Hours retired with full recognition for his work and was thanked by Princess Celestia during his retirement party. He and his wife decided that city life in their old age was no longer for them. So, After Hours and his wife, Grape Sherbert, moved to the newly established settlement of Ponygold purchasing a plot of land they could spend their last remaining years on. Sadly, the years he spent staying up all night would not just stop.
With most of Equestria in bed while he was wide awake, After Hours grew bored. He decided to take up a small job, two nights a week, guarding the largest gold mine outside of Ponygold. It was simple work consisting of walking around the outside of the mine, the first few rooms of the mine, and returning to a small checkpoint for ten minutes every hour for eight hours. He had offered to do this without pay, wanting only the thrill of working over any monetary gain. The owners of the mine would not have it, instead of pay he accepted their offer of theater tickets and tickets to the Manehatten Orchestra. Hours and his wife would take a night a week going to Manehatten by train to see a show. It was a good, relaxing retirement in his eyes.
Tonight, was supposed to be no different than any other night. After Hours arrived at work five minutes before his schedule to the previous watch pony could leave to go home to his family. A new moon hung hidden in the sky. No light shined down tonight, but that was what ponies invested flashlights for. After Hours at times wondered why they needed a guard at night to begin with. There had never been an incident that required security at the mine. It had been open for two years and there wasn't even graffiti in the bathrooms. Still, he placed the flashlight in his mouth and went about to go on his first survey of the mine.
Each of the office portables were clear of any trespassers. Like wise, when he came to the equipment depot and worker break building, there was not a pony in sight. It was not until he came to the mine entrance that the sound of shuffling hooves took him for a fright. Old, olive eyes squinted to try and see into the darkness of the rock hole. The flashlight moved with his tongue to shine the yellow light in the first room. He had believed it to be nothing but his odd hearing until the sound came again.
“Now whatever be in there! Just come out and leave and there wont be no pony in trouble!” Clopping hooves traveled further into the gold mine pulling After Hours to follow with the haste of a senior citizen.
Nothing taken to chance, the flashlight was angled to shine right in front of the old pony. Around each turn, and down to the second level, he followed the sounds until he hit a room filled with machinery. Hours took a moment to figure out where he was. His normal route did not take him this deep into the mines, and he had only seen it once or twice when he brought his grandfoals on tours here. There were three machines, each was on vibrating and puffing steam. Pipes lead from the machine to the ceiling and to the walls. Powerful fans attached to the right side of each machine spun around sucking in fresh air to send down into the pipes. After a moment, he realized he was in the air room. Each machine pumped air in and out of the lower chambers to ensure that the workers would be able to breath. It was delicate equipment he didn't dare touch, but if somepony was in here it was his job to stop them from touching. “I'll call the guard if I have to but I really don't want anypony to wind up in the tank. Just leave now and we'll call it even. No damage is done. Just leave.”
Further into the room, After Hours began to shake. There was no excitement like this at the museum. At most he had caught a researcher or scientist coming in after the closing time without checking in with him first. Now it was an unknown pony in a room pitch black except for the shine of his flashlight. It hit him then. A hard object struck the back of his head sending the elderly pony to the mine floor and his flashlight rolling to the side sending its glare just above his head. His body froze up, every muscle and nerve giving out. A warm sensation surrounded his face. From what he could see with the dim light his flashlight gave him, it was red in color.
Images began to flash through his thoughts. Tomorrow was supposed to be such a perfect day after he returned home. After Hours would do the same as he always did. When he reached his house, Grape Sherbert would be sitting on a rocking chair on the porch waiting for him. She would fix him breakfast then help him to his favorite chair for a nap. His son, daughter in law, and their three foals were to come visit him and his wife tomorrow too. They would ask him questions about the museum, beg him to take them into town to see the trains, or to go to the cliffs above the Everfree Forest.
He was certain the middle foal, the eight year old filly, would bring him fresh cookies she baked. The first time she brought him cookies she had confused the salt and the sugar. Being a good grandpa he ate them down to the final crumb and requested she make him more. The sight of her smiling face every time he ate the salty treats made it all worthwhile.
Movements robbed him of his final thoughts. He glanced upwards to see the shadow of a pony standing over him. Dim glow illuminated enough that he could see a hammer within the pony's mouth, red on the tip of the claw. It occurred to him then. He would never be able to walk home to his wife nor eat her meals. He wouldn't be able to give pony back rides to his grandfoals nor hear about the things they did since the last time they saw him. Never again would he eat the salty cookies made by his grandfilly's loving hooves. After Hours had planned that the last things he heard before he died would either be his wife or those he loved telling him that they loved him before the afterlife took him.
Instead, the unknown pony in front of him would give him his last rites. “I'm sorry.” A mare's voice spoke. The pony's head lowered swiftly bringing the head of the hammer down thrice against After Hour's skull. Black overtook his eyes and life had left his body.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Blueberry Pie stood in the calming darkness staring down at her victim. Her body was thinner than she was last she saw Eclipse, ten years ago. Saddlebags at her waist tightly strapped to her. The instrument of the pony's murder fell from her slacking jaw onto the ground below. A shiver ran across her body raising the hairs of her dark blue coat. It was not the first time she had taken a life. In truth she had killed kobolds, wild animals, and bandit ponies in self defense, but this was different. Nausea swept through her gut threatening to spill her dinner out over the dusty mine ground. Green eyes closed once her head finally turned away from the pony's body. The mare quivered as the image of the dead stallion already haunted her mind. He was not supposed to hear me. If he had just ignored the sounds... Regret washed over her for what she had done and what she was about to do.
Through the black she crossed towards the center machine. From her saddlebags came the clinking of glass upon glass. Wiggling her flank, the blank pair of khaki cloth fell to the ground behind her. The contents rattled a few of the items within rolling out. They were glass orbs the size of golf balls. Green mist swirled within beckoning to withdraw. Blueberry Pie knew what she had to do with these dark objects. First, she had to deal with the body of the night watch.
She had been told that using the contents of this vile would summon a magic fire to rid any evidence that may come. The one who granted it to her had said it could even turn a pony to ash if it ever came down to such a need. Such a need had sadly come. The bag opposite of the green smoke orbs was opened with her teeth clenching the flap. A blue orb, dancing with a magic fire inside, was clutched lightly between her lips instead of teeth. She rolled her tongue across the surface lightly. It was cold as stone, not the heat she expected to feel. Movements carried her back to After Hours' body dropping the orb down. It rolled across the floor, through the haunting red that leaked from the pony's skull ending its trail besides his body. Now Blueberry would have to touch it. She cringed outwardly raising a careful hoof only to bring it down on the jewel encased flame. Blue fire shot outwards covering around the old pony's body. Within seconds it spread across his cooling flesh engulfing the corpse and the spewed life fluids. The room became a lit in turquoise light.
It was amazing how the fire cleansed away the evidence. Blueberry wished it could have also cleansed her soul of her sins. She turned back to the machines, to the green swirling gems. The supplier of the blue fire had told her that the smoke was a special poison gas. It spread out slowly at first giving the pony who releases it a chance to flee. After an hour it spreads out. Lowering her head, she used her muzzle to knock five gems out of the bag, then roll each one to the center machine's giant fan. One by one, her bloodied hoof came down cracking open releasing the smoke. The thick green raised upwards dancing like a serpent to the tune of a charmer. It lingered a moment spinning through the air before being sucked into the fan's blades. Blueberry could not wait around to watch and ensure the plan was successful. She only short, precious minutes to leave the mine before the poison spread out suffocating the oxygen in the mine. Anything caught down below would be dead within seconds, anypony who breathed it in would be fine if they escaped to fresh air within an hour. Blueberry turned, giving one last look at the ash of After Hours, before galloping towards the exit of the mine.
Without hesitation, Blueberry fled the mine site once she had reached the top. She did not stop to see if any other pony was around. Everything inside of her screamed for her to run from the place of her crime, from the place a piece of her was left to die. She continued her running entering into the small forest that laid close to Ponygold. Ignoring any obvious trails, Blueberry chose instead to cross through animal paths to until the warm glow of a crackling fire laid just ahead. The place she had setup for her camp while she was in this area. She had left the fire to help find her way back.
A moment's pause was taken to catch her breath. She stopped running when she came to the small clearing among the trees and brush. Her tent laid close to the trunk of a thick, weeping willow partially concealed by the tree's hanging branches. A circle of rocks kept the fire she burned from spreading out to the plants. It was foolish to leave it while she ventured to the mine but the act of starting it without magic was a difficult task as it was. At the fire Blueberry finally dropped back sitting on her haunches. Her head hung forward, flinching her eyes closed, gritting her teeth as tears poured down her cheeks. Head flung back, a scream of despair tore form her throat echoing through the trees only to be heard by herself and the few animals that were around.
The fire gave light to Blueberry's body. Her mane and tail no longer were the bright colors they once were. Stress and age turned the streaks of purple to white. The light blue that made the bulk of color was washed out and faded. A single scar was dug just on her right shoulder blade. Its origins something else that Blueberry Pie wished to leave in the past.
When the scream subsided, the mare began slamming her fore hooves against the ground. The rocks were struck one by one randomly when her attention was lost to the sorrow enveloping her. A hoof misplaced its strike on the hard surface of a stone. She stumbled forward pushing her limb directly into the embrace of the fire's wicked touch. She did not react to the pain at first. It wasn't until the smell of burning fur and flesh hit her nostrils that she finally withdrew. Painfully whimpering, she limped towards her tent.
“That was foolish.” A voice spoke from the darkness. Blueberry knew that voice all too well. It was a mare's voice. One touched with the wisdom of ages, deep and parental. Like a stern headmaster that stood over their charges with an iron hoof. “But you accomplished your goal perfectly, as to be expected of my acolyte. As it did always, the owner of the voice did not reveal herself.
“When can we stop this. You promised me that Eclipse would be freed. It's been years now since I accept your proposal, but all I do is...” Blueberry sighed heavily retreating past the flap of her tent to retrieve her first aid kit. She limped with each step, keeping her burned hoof off the ground. “I killed a pony today. An innocent pony. That was never supposed to have happened.”
“I promised you power, and I warned that it would take time before this could be achieved, before you would have the power to free Eclipse.”
“Yes you warned me. Yes you told me. But for three years I have poisoned the air in mines, released parasprites on unsuspecting farms or factories, and even set fire to a pony's home to stop them from delivering some message to the Princess. But tonight... Tonight I killed somepony. Not in self defense, not to protect somepony else, but in cold blood!” She stomped down all four hooves only to feel the pain of her burned limb rush back through her. She cried out falling against her side, but the ground would not meet her.
Rather, magic had gathered around her lifting her back to her hooves. The magic was gentle as a mother's touch. It wrapped around her body relieving the tension and weariness that choked at her muscles. The skin and fur of her burned limb began to be restored. “Calm now, my dear Blueberry Pie. You could have freed Eclipse three years ago with your wish from the Princess. But you knew that even if you had tried, it would have failed. Your family would have further suffered from the unlawful acts Gold Mine would have committed in the name of vengeance”
“I know.” Her voice sounded weak. She could not argue the logic that the voice presented to her. “How much longer must I do these things?”
“I do not know. Even if we were to free her now, Eclipse would only go from one prison into another. Celestia would never allow her to be free. The sins the Princess committed in times of old would be known to all, and her rule would be overturned. We must be careful how we act. I told you of the Princess' sins, you know this to be true.”
The tales the voice had told Blueberry of the past, of an event over two thousand years old, was a gut wrenching event. She could have scarcely believed it to be true if not for the other things that Celestia had done for the kingdom. If Celestia was willing to imprison her sister, Luna, on the moon then she was willing to commit other sins as well. She relinquished any argument against the path that she was taking. It was a bitter pill to swallow, but the voice assured her it was the proper path to take. “Forgive me. But I wish to sleep and leave the events of tonight behind.”
“Goodnight, Blueberry Pie. Sweet dreams.” The final two words lingered in the blue mare's ears. Sweet dreams? There wouldn't be any. She ventured back into the confines of her worn tent. Her tail swished striking the flap to close it behind her. A thin blanket and a flat pillow welcomed her at the small tents center. Exhausted form dropped down against the hard ground. Blueberry wanted nothing more then to have a dreamless slumber until the sun woke her. She would find this impossible. The images of After Hours dying at her hooves, the final strike she placed rendering him lifeless, would repeat over and over in her nightmares.
“Yes, do sleep, Blueberry Pie. Blessed caretaker of my dear Eclipse. My dearest Eclipse. I will build a kingdom for you. A kingdom where you will truly be free.” The presence of the voice vanished into the moonless night. Once again, Blueberry Pie was alone with only her sin to keep her.