Nothing At All

Nothing At All

~Chapter 2 - Ennui~

By Chimpso

“When it comes to argument, vigor usually trumps evidence.”

A chill, brief and sharp, ran along Aurea’s side. She rolled over with an ungenteel grunt, where did that breeze come from?

Eyes closed, she pawed around, trying to find the blanket that must have slipped off of her during the night. Her hoof brushed against something soft and wet, almost like... grass?

She sat up with a start and opened her eyes to see only a blur. Rubbing them to reorient them with reality, she quickly looked around, her eyes darting back and forth, not knowing where she had woken up. But as her brain realized that she was now actually awake, she recognized her park around her.

Sighing and running a hoof through her disheveled mane, shaking loose a few blades of grass that had gotten stuck in it, Aurea looked down at what was underneath her. Her cloak was still functioning as an impromptu picnic mat, protecting her from the grass which sparkled with dew in the early morning sun.

It wasn't the first time she had fallen asleep in the park in the two years she had frequented it. The total silence of Canterlot's night and the twinkling stars above had caused her to slip away on two previous occasions. The first passed without incident, but the second time she found herself being rudely awakened by a squirrel rummaging through her mane. She chuckled at the memory, although when it occurred her reaction had been slightly less merry.

Yawning and stretching out her legs and wings before slowly getting to her hooves, she moved over to the viewpoint. It was later in the morning now, the glow of the sun projecting onto the landscape below her as it rose on the opposite side of Canterlot Mountain. Cloudsdale’s rainbows were beginning to sparkle, and the colorful houses of Ponyville were now clearly visible.

Yawning again, she realized that the few hours of sleep hadn't been enough, and although it pained her, she knew she’d have to sleep when she got home.

Gathering up her damp cloak, Aurea plopped herself down onto the stone park bench. Bringing a hoof up to her nose to wipe away away some of the accumulated mucus, she sighed again. Several hours exposed to the chill of the early morning had likely given her a cold.

Moving her frustrations to the back of the mind, Aurea noticed her appearance and the fact that she was at least a half hours walk away from home. Her mane was a mess, weaved with blades of grass from the tossing that had likely occurred during last nights sleep, and her fur was damp and cold from the dew of the grass she had inadvertently rolled in. At the risk of garnering stares from the early morning residents of Canterlot, she gathered herself, hoping to return home unnoticed while the morning was young.

Hopping off the stone bench after removing as much of the grass from her mane as her hooves could manage, she gave one last glance to her park before leaving through the bush, which only sought to nullify her previous efforts as sticks and leaves joined the grass nesting in her mane.

Despite herself, she smiled. At least she had nothing to do today.

Aurea was not a morning pony. Waking up was always the low point of the day, but she lived through it. Waking up twice in one day however was unprecedented.

Aurea's eyes refused to open even after she managed to will herself out of the silken bed sheets that she hated being under at any time other than right at that moment. The trip to the bathroom was no less groggy, with the walls of the hallway supporting her every move. Finally making it, she stood on wobbling legs in front of the mirror and attempted to open her eyes.

They shut again as a crusty feeling irritated her eyeballs. Leaning on the bathroom counter and wiping the sleep out of them, she opened her eyes again, and this time they were more compliant.

Her grey irises stared back at her as she examined her current appearance in more detail. The draining walk back home after just waking up hadn't helped her feel any more energetic once she arrived, so the bed was the first destination, not the bathroom. Now that she was in the bathroom however, it's conspiring reflective surface projecting herself back, she was unimpressed with the state of her mane. Although she had removed most of the grass and twigs on the walk home, the tangled and dull hair would definitely need some work.

That could wait however, the night without food had left her stomach on empty, so it seemed that the bathroom would be shunned once again in favor of the kitchen.

The house was quiet, which was often the case. Aurea’s parents were constantly busy, some days waking up early, some days leaving later. Today it seems they had left early.

Opening the fridge and removing a half-sandwich cut diagonally as a triangle, she checked the bench for the usual note her mother always left when they would not be home. It was their joint plan, whenever her parents would leave her home alone they would be sure to leave a note telling her where they were going and what time they would be back. It had mainly been to make her feel safer when she was much younger, but it was a tradition that they never seemed to cease finding use for. The note was on there on the bench where it always was:

“Had to leave early to the presentation at the Royal Canterlot University this morning. Staying for the dinner afterwards. Will be back late. Love you. :)”

The smiley face was basically synonymous with her signature.

The sandwich was dry, leftovers from several nights ago, but she finished it off. There was nothing planned for her today, and she couldn’t do much of her own work until nightfall, so the day and house were hers.

Feeling her messy mane resting on her shoulder halted her train of thought. She would decide what to do later. But first: the bathroom.

“I’m telling you Aurea, this colt is an enemy of compromise."

Turfy Plains’ head rested on the table, idly maneuvering a salt shaker around with her hoof as she sat and sulked.

The outside sitting area of the Café took up most of the sidewalk width in Canterlot's main street. In the early afternoon of the busy weekend the sidewalks were filled with hordes of ponies jubilantly window shopping. Their endeavors cut a swath through the sitting area however, making getting back into the Cafe difficult without at least a dozen "I'm sorry's" and "Excuse me's". Aurea rolled the near-empty glass of apple juice on the table between her hooves. Not worth it to go back and get a refill.

"You've worked with him your entire career, I'm sure you'll both pull through."

"The concert is tomorrow night Aurea, we don't have time to modify the song!"

Turfy Plains. She had the most despondent demeanor when she had problems. The world would initially be ending, but that would quickly soften until she was simply left with someone spitting in her sandwich before she took a bite. Aurea had patterned her ranting cycle with the time and experience she had with it; despair, quickly followed by indignation.

"Are you rehearsing tonight?" Aurea asked, before trying to suck up the last pockets of apple juice through her straw.

"Tonight? I've been rehearsing all day! He only pulled this nonsense out of his flank yesterday and now expects us all to spend the whole day fixing it up. I just needed a break." There was the anger, "And someone who would listen to my raving."

"Am I really the only one who listens?"

"You stay up all night staring at stars Aurea, no one listens better than you."

Aurea raised an eyebrow at the remark, but the smile on Turfy's face told her it was a compliment.

Turfy Plains was a fair pony in an unfair world. Her green coat and chestnut mane constantly on the floor in frustration due to some unfavorable circumstance. Turfy knew however that she always had the capability to overcome her problems, but they just seemed... unnecessary. Her complaining was equally unnecessary, but she would never pass up the opportunity to vindicate herself, even over trivial matters. It hardly meant that she was unreasonable, but Aurea knew from past experience that arguing with Turfy was usually a bad idea. Her status as one of Canterlot's slightly more distinguished vocalists was to her a mixed blessing. She got to do what she enjoyed, but with people she didn't. Pursuing her musical career had certainly not been as easy as getting her cutie mark–a simple upwards-pointing quarter note–and competition had been no less accommodating

“If he’s causing so much trouble, why don’t you get rid of him?” Aurea asked, causing Turfy to jolt up in surprise.

“I can’t do that! Ember has been by my side this entire time, I couldn’t just get rid of him.” Turfy’s eyes were firm, but the slight wane in her voice showed Aurea that she was thinking.

Leaning in closer to speak more softly, Aurea corrected her, “Actually, you could. He works for you remember?”

“Yes, but...”

“Oh come on Turfy, you have all the power here.” Aurea stated with a rush of annoyed enthusiasm, “That stallion is a perfectionist, he wants everything done to the standard that satisfies him! You need to make him work to satisfy you.”

Turfy raised her eyebrow and smirked at the last remark.

“Not like that,” Aurea quickly clarified, frowning at her friends wayward imagination, “I mean, look, I’ve talked to him. I know he’s a nice pony and I know that when you two aren’t squabbling you get along well, but you’re the boss Turfy. You need to make the rules. He doesn’t think the song’s perfect? Then to hay with him! Tell him it’s fine and that. He needs to stop harping on about it.”

“I already tried that,” Turfy sulked, drooping down again, “He won’t listen.”

“Then order him to stop,” Aurea said, emphasizing the word ‘order’ with a jab of her hoof, “He works for you.”

Aurea sat and watch Turfy consider what she had said. Her eyes moved to different tables and people as they passed by, trying to amuse themselves while her brain was at work deciphering the pros and cons of the plan. Her eyes began to wane down however, and as her head and ears began to follow, Aurea knew she had to speak up.

“Turfy, he is not the problem. The only problem is that you can’t deal with the problem.”

This brought her back up again, albeit slowly.

“You really think this I should do this? What if he...”

“He won’t quit Turfy. You’ve been his pride and joy for years. He doesn’t want to see you fail. But he needs to be reminded that you know what’s best for you.”

The transformation of Turfy’s face from it’s sullen state to the one of more repressed confidence she now bared was slow, but as she held her head up her Aquamarine eyes shone with a calm acceptance.

“Alright, I’ll do it.”

Aurea lit up. “There you go!” She held her hoof up in the air for Turfy to tap back, “Do it as soon as you see him.”

Turfy nodded. “I will. You will be there tomorrow won’t you?”

“Are you kidding? Front row seats, I’ll be there Turfy.”

Aurea recoiled as her friend took her in an unexpected but otherwise pleasant hug from across the table.“I’ll see you tomorrow night then. I need to get back to rehearsing now.”

With a final nod of thanks, Turfy got up from the velvet cushion and disappeared into the  train of people transiting the sidewalk. Aurea watched her go, the city swallowing her up into it’s horde of minions, until she could no longer be seen.

She smiled as she stared into the crowd. Turfy Plains may have been feisty when she was angry, but when faced with a dilemma she often seemed to fall apart. Aurea’s time as her friend had taught her to be patient however. Turfy had her goals, she just needed her confidence, and a little nudging to get started.

Craning her neck to look over the crowd of ponies between her and the Cafe, she spotted the clock. It was just past midday, the catch up with Turfy hadn’t even put a dent in the time she had on her hooves for the day. She considered returning her glass, but navigating through the crowd would have been like stumbling through an ancient trap-filled temple that only Daring Do could conceivably make it through intact. Leaving a tip, she got up and stepped into the surging crowd herself.

Home was familiar, home was where you started, home was where you planned your adventures and set forth, home just had that feeling; there was nothing like it.

Home for Aurea was a rather lavish household in the heart of Canterlot, close to the city, but still distant enough to be free of the clutter. Canterlot was never quiet during the day, a large city like it was active like an earthquake; disastrous at the epicenter, but easier to miss if you were at the very edge. The living city could still be heard, but if the mind was preoccupied elsewhere, it would be filtered out.

Her family's house was split in two, a public section and a private section. Downstairs and upstairs. Guests never saw upstairs, that wasn’t their place. Downstairs had everything one would look for in a house; a kitchen, an overdrawn dining area and lounge all combined with free flowing access between the three unrestricted by walls or doors. All very modern, with just the slightest hint of Canterlot’s elitist snobbery present in the presentation and arrangements of the furniture.

Upstairs however, was a totally different world.

The three separate bedrooms for herself and her parents were set in the past. Dark wooden furniture adorned with cloths an entire array of colors from the darker end of the spectrum. Dark green bed sheets, maroon couch cushions, dark blue curtains, everything was dark. The rooms almost never saw daylight, opening the curtains and allowing light to flood in just made the rooms seem... off. They were designed as secluded, spacious and personal abodes, natural light was not welcome.

Walking to the end of the corridor and entering her own room, Aurea felt a wave of comfort and security flow through her. Activating a switch on the wall with a flick of her nose, the room glowed a soft and warm yellow, emanating from a small crystal of light inlaid in the wall above the dark-wood antique work desk. Scattered papers and ink quills littered the desk, a testament to only a single session of work still left untidy from several nights before. She sighed, it seemed as though she had found something to do.

Sitting down on the comfy, cushioned desk chair, she swept all the papers to the side of the desk, leaving a spot in the middle clear for the sorting. As she opened the desk drawer which doubled as her filing cabinet, she felt a giddiness as the familiar smell of old and new paper seeped out into the air.

Sorting was a methodical task. The goal was simple, the method was simple and easy to figure out, and it required minimal effort. It just took a long time. It kept the body busy, and provided it with a sense of usefulness as it got something productive done, but it allowed the mind to be free and drift off into pockets of the imagination that could only be exposed while the body is in action and on the move.

Aurea swept paper after paper from the messy pile into the center of the table. Star charts, notes, constellations maps, all filed into their relevant sections in the cabinet, ready to be taken out again if needed. The pile of papers slowly decreased in size, and the occasional pencil and eraser fell out only to be snatched up and put back into their holders.

The desk was now clear, with only the relevant stationery holders resting atop it. Sweeping a foreleg over the table to remove the accumulated dust, Aurea let out a invigorated breath, if it wouldn’t have meant messing up the desk again, she’d have busted the papers out and continued her work anew.

Marveling the clean desk for a short minute, the invigoration slowly faded away, being replaced with the remainder of the comfortable chair she was sitting on and the equally comfortable bed behind her.

Rubbing a sleepy eye with her hoof, she retracted it when she felt something wet brush the side of her cheek. Surprised, she brought the leg down, and spotted the small cut.

A paper cut. They didn’t come often, but occasionally paper found itself on just the right angle going at just the right speed to do a little bit of damage. The cut was nastier than she expected, and had obviously bled for a short time, staining the white fur around it a deep crimson. She brought a wing over and brushed the cut gently with a feather. No pain. it had probably happened in her initial joviality while sorting the papers.

Pushing herself off the chair and onto the plush carpet, Aurea opened the door to her room and stepped back into the dimly lit hallway. As turned to go back downstairs and wash the blood off of her leg, she heard a faint tap coming from down the hall. Turning her head around to face the source, she noticed that the door to the main study was ajar, and the wind from the open balcony was ever so slightly pulling the door open and closed.

Moving to close the door, her hoof on the handle, Aurea had the sudden urge to enter the study. She had been in many times before, it was after all the gateway to the balcony which housed the family telescope. But the room was primarily her father’s study. While the three rooms on the top floor were designed as bedrooms, her mother’s study was where they both slept, which left the master bedroom free. She pulled the door open, the creak of the old hinges echoing through the hallway.

Instead of a bed, the room was mostly empty with the exception of several wooden bookshelves crammed with tomes of astronomical knowledge and a rather grandiosely designed desk that almost took up an entire wall. On the other side of the room, directly opposite to the door, was the archway that lead to the household’s semi-circle grey marble balcony and the resident telescope. The carpet was a solid dark green, matching the rest of the top floor and hallway.

Moving over to her father's desk, she noticed that it was, as always, clean. He was always the clean one in the family, contrary to both his wife and daughter. While Aurea and her mother would often wait until the morning after to reorganize and clean their workplaces after a night’s work, her father ensured that if he was to leave the room at any point in time for any period of time, the desk would be left tidy and neat. An assortment of pencils and quill of various sizes and states of use sat in a wide holder carved in an ornate pattern from dark mahogany wood. Several desk trays were stacked on top of each other to the far right, filled to the brim with neatly organized papers.

Aurea always noticed that her father had a quirky obsession with maintaining the neatness of a piece of paper, if it was crumpled or part of an edge was ripped off, he would not write on it. The paper had to be smooth and unmarred, and as a result of his methodical process of weeding out the unfit paper, it was filed so neatly the tray could be taken and put on display as a commercial for how effective it was.

Curiosity took her, pulling the desk chair over to the paper tray, she set her sights on the papers within. She didn’t normally snoop around in her parent’s work, but they often did snoop around  in her’s, just out of curiosity. She was sure that she’d be able to use that excuse if they questioned her for doing so.

The top tray was filled with star maps, each one immaculately maintained and mapping a portion of the night sky. The second tray comprised largely of shorthand notes on everything from telescope focus gems to Ursa Minor. The third tray was much the same, neat but shuffled notes on pretty much everything, except for a few dozen or so bound pages at the bottom of the stack.

She removed the papers from the tray, double checking to ensure that she left no evidence of perusing them. The front page of the stack was blank. Her father had kept compendiums of his work before, most of which were filed away on the bookshelves. Bound papers outside of the bookshelf usually indicated it was a current piece of work.

Turning over the front page, there was a phrase on the next one, placed small and center in his neat handwriting: “Earth and Sun”

Aurea raised an eyebrow, intrigued. Moving her hoof to turn the page again, she noticed the cut on her leg. It was bleeding again, more so than before, and the trail of crimson was getting dangerously close to rolling off her leg and landing on the desk.

She sighed and picked up the papers. Resting them on a wing, she returned to her bedroom and placed them on her desk, she could read it later, the bathroom was once again the priority destination.

The night was cold. Looming edifices and the constant chirping of crickets the only point of focus in the empty streets.  The nighttime had, as per routine, brought about the ominous silence of Canterlot and transformed it into silent ghost town.

The nighttime was not Police Chief Fallweather’s time.

It was late, too late. The night was far colder than he had prepared for, and his autumn fur didn’t insulate him enough. Had he known, he would have brought a coat to wear over his uniform. The fact that the only light reaching into the dark alleyway was the moon didn’t make him feel any more at ease.

“Chilly evening Chief?”

Startled, Fallweather spun around to face the brown trench coat clad earth pony stallion who had appeared behind him.

“Must you do that?” Fallweather censured him, “I thought I was meeting two of you.”

“Lexic should be arriving shortly,” the stallion replied, dusting off his coat. “I take it everything has checked out.”

Fallweather nodded, “You’ve got some friends in very high places. Too high for my liking.”

“You don’t have to like it Chief, you just have to do what you’re told. Shouldn’t be too hard,” He over the shoulder of the Police Chief, “Well, look who’s here.”

Turning his head to assess the new arrival, Fallweather noted the similar trench coat and mane style of the approaching stallion. He was a unicorn however, with a coat of dark silver.

“Apologies gentlecolts, I was held up,” Lexic turned to the brown trenchcoat, “I have some good news.”

“Everything went according to plan?”

Lexic nodded, grinning mischievously, “They intercepted the parents, no trouble at all, they’re turning them in now and will be back by morning.”

“Excellent,” brown trench coat replied, “The Chief here also has good news; we’re clear to go tomorrow, we won’t see any interference from the authorities.”

The silver pony chuckled, “Gotta love this assent, almost no challenge getting away with everything.”

“Who gave you this assent?” Fallweather asked, eyeballing the brown stallion, who looked at Lexic disapprovingly.

“It is none of your concern Chief, what is of your concern is information on the daughter. I take it you have that information?”

“Yes,” Fallweather said, not at ease in the slightest as he handed over a file filled with papers to the brown trench coat. “In there is the map with the route that you asked for. It’s the shortest one from the house to the theater, so it’s most likely the one that she’ll take.”

“Excellent,” the brown pony said again, pocketing the file into the folds of his coat, “What other information do you have on her.”

“White. Yellow striped mane,” Fallweather listed, “Did I mention she’s a pegasus?”

Lexic raised an eyebrow, “A pegasus? That’s not going to make things easy for us.”

“It’s inconsequential,” the brown pony said, waving a hoof dismissively at his partner, “The whole point of surprising her is so she doesn’t attempt to escape. Wings won’t help her.”

“I have made all the arrangements,” the Police Chief said, eager to leave as soon as possible, “Nothing about this incident will be mentioned anywhere, you can tell your... client that they shouldn’t have any problems.”

“That is good news Chief, mostly for you.” The brown pony turned to Lexic, “Our business here is done, we need to get everything prepared and ready for tomorrow night.” He faced Fallweather, calm neutrality apparent in his tone and face, “Goodnight Chief.”

As he turned to leave, Lexic in tow, Fallweather spoke up, “I don’t believe I got your name.”

The brown pony stopped. “Neither do I, Chief,” he said, looking over his shoulder to face the officer, “Neither do I.”