My father nuzzled me gently, smiling. His blue eyes were just as vibrant and happy as usual. His fur was another shade of blue, somewhat darker. His mane was ever so slightly a lighter shade of blue than the rest of his fur, and it spiked as it cascaded over his brow. His wings were folded close to his sides, covering up the cutie mark that I can’t quite remember.
I was sitting on the floor in the living room of my small house near the outside of New Ponyville, which was obviously named for the beloved town in Equestria. I could see the reflection of myself in my father’s eyes. Only five years old. My small face, the dark gray fur and silvery white mane that composed my head, and the bright crimson eyes were very grim colors for a pony, especially a young colt like myself.
The living room was warm both in temperature and color. The floor was a shiny hardwood and the walls were painted salmon pink. A few paintings adorned these walls. There was a little furniture, such as a fuzzy, brown couch, and a recliner to match it. Even a stone fireplace was present, but it hadn't been lit since the night before.
My father spoke. He had the kindest, softest voice I had ever heard, and it was accented with the received pronunciation that Canterlot was famous for in Equestria, but combined with the accent of Trotland: his home. “Silencio,” he addressed me quietly, “Be a good colt and go to your room. It’s bedtime.”
“Okay, daddy!” I exclaimed naively, and reached up to hug him. I fluttered my wings slightly as I wrapped my front legs around the back of his neck. He smiled and took advantage of this, turned to the doorway that led into the hallway, then walked. It was more like gliding, honestly, because of how quietly he moved. The hallway was unlit, and colored similarly to the living room, but the floor was coated in a brown carpet. It was lined with three doors, with a single one that was painted pure white on the left wall in the hallway.
My father turned the knob to this door and pushed inward, revealing the inside to the room. It too was completely white, save for the rug that was colored gray, and my mattress that was covered in a blue blanket and a pillow in a black pillowcase.
“End of the line, buddy,” the stallion told me playfully. I released my grip on him and my father lowered me to the ground, then ruffled my white mane. “I’ll see you in the morning, Silence,” informed my father. I nodded, and he backed out of the room as I heard another door in the house open- the front door. I peeked through the door to my room as he started to close it to see another stallion enter. He was clad in a light gray uniform that covered his body, over which he wore a breastplate and spaulders of pure white, and on his back hooves, white boots, along with white gloves on his front. The stallion itself had gray fur and a black mane with a patch of gold, and from his forehead, a horn jutted. I couldn’t make out much else before my dad closed the door fully.
I could tell immediately by the uniform that this pony was a Keeper, or at least worked for them. They were supposed to be the good guys. They were supposed to protect civilized society from criminals, which made me wonder what he was doing in my tiny abode.
I examined the blank walls of my room, indulging in thought. It wasn’t uncommon to have visitors. After all, ponies have friends. Especially after my mother, Nightshine Freesoul, died of the Gray Plague when I was only two. That same disease passed on to me before I was born and even though it didn’t kill me, it made me the way I am now. No matter the case, it wasn’t like my father to invite Keepers of the Crown to the house, and it wasn’t like Keepers to visit a house while on duty, nor would they let themselves in if they were at a residence on casual business. It was very odd that-
My thoughts were interrupted by a loud bang that rattled my eardrums and reverberated throughout the house. Something DEFINITELY was not right at this point. As the tinnitus set in on my sensitive, undeveloped ears, I stood up from the floor. The noise was too loud and didn’t cause enough shaking to simply be explained by somepony dropping something heavy. It wasn’t a bomb or something of the like because if it was, I would be laying under a pile of rubble. As I slowly and stealthily crept closer to the door, I barely heard hoofsteps pass quickly by my room and stop somewhere in the direction of the foyer. Then the front door opened and closed, and everything was quiet after that, aside from the torturous ringing.
Just to be safe, I licked my hoof and rubbed it on the hinges of my door as a lubricant to quiet any creaks that it could produce as I open it. I planted my other hoof on the knob, which was just above my head, and turned it, pulling inwards. The door opened as quietly as I had predicted it would, and I peeked my head out into the hallway. There was nothing strange… other than the silence. Nopony was around, as far as I could see. Nothing was out of place. There were no signs of struggle.
Since everything seemed safe, I quietly worked myself out of the room and into the hallway, where I stood and collecting myself. The place was dark, as it had been before. Everything was exactly the same. I looked toward the back of the hallway, noticing the door that was there as well. It was simple, dark hardwood, with a brass doorknob like all of the other doors in the hall. Deciding that it would be one of the safest and most logical places to search for my father without possibly endangering myself, I tip-hoofed toward the door quietly. Upon reaching it, I twisted the knob and pushed in.
The door opened with a quiet creak, something that I didn’t have the opportunity to prevent, and revealed the inside of the room. It was my parents’ bedroom, or at least my father’s, as my mother had passed. The walls were painted beige and lined with wooden chifforobes, one of which supported a large, square, frameless mirror that leaned against the wall. Against the side of the room where the entrance was, just to the right of it, was the mattress. I looked around the room and it was empty of all life. Confirming this, I backed out and turned back toward the edge of the hall that fed into the living room. Even though there was another door to my left at this point, I decided to ignore it as it only housed the water heater. There was no way a pony could fit inside. Thus, I proceeded forward and stopped at the doorway into the living room, looking around the corner.
What I saw came as a great surprise to me, but at first, I sensed no more danger. What I saw was a mass of blue, jumbled up on the center of the floor. It was my dad, unmistakably. I abandoned all of my sense and rushed to him. The pegasus was laying on his side, wings spread out across the ground. His legs were strewn in front of him. As I examined more thoroughly, I noticed two things; first of all, he was breathing. Second, there was a small hole through his shoulder, at an angle that shifted into his chest. I nuzzled the side of his face, and he turned his head upward, his blue eyes glaring into my red ones. He was very weak. I could see it.
“Hay, buddy,” he weakly greeted, his voice more gentle than usual. His accent was slightly thicker as well. I knelt beside him, placing my hooves on his chest. He kept his head on the ground, clearly not wanting to waste his strength. His breathing was becoming increasingly raspy. “Silence, I think I’m gonna go to sleep,” the stallion informed. I leaned in closer to him, my eyes burning, watering. What I thought was happening couldn’t be. “Daddy…” I quietly whined.
He raised a hoof and touched my cheek. “It’s okay,” he reassured me. His breathing became even raspier, weaker. “Silence, I don’t have long,” said he. I shook my head, denying him the freedom to pass. It seems he had somehow bypassed this.
“Silence. I love you.”
With that, my father lowered his hoof to the floor. The rising and falling of his chest ceased. He lay still. I couldn’t believe what was happening. I shook him. Repeatedly. Tears rolled down my cheeks, warm and salty tears. They dropped onto my ragdoll of a father and soaked into his fur. I leaned down and hugged him, wailing, swearing in every way that I could. I stayed there for several minutes, maybe even the better half of an hour. Then I fell asleep.
I was awoken by the sound of hoofsteps approaching the front of the house. Judging by the volume and the rapidness, there were many ponies. I leaned up, quickly looking down at my father. His eyes were still open. Though I had not fully let go of his passing, I simply opened a wing and brushed it over his face, closing his eyes, and stood up.
I quickly approached the front door in the foyer and peeked through the window on it. A party of five Keepers, all in their gray and white uniforms and armor, approached. I couldn’t make out any other details. It was dark outside, and I was panicking. They were about three hundred hooves away, near the entrance to the cul de sac, and moving in quickly. The sound of their hooves grew louder. Recklessly, I bucked up and crashed my hooves against the door, slamming it open. I hardly had time to be surprised at my strength, but I had to escape.
I rushed out the door and jumped from the wooden porch outside my home, running to the side of my house. The place was small and white, a ranch house, but little else was notable. It was clear that the Keepers had been drawn there from a report that they would investigate, so they probably didn’t know or care about my fleeing. I darted through the trees, making sure to avert any suspicions by slowing to walking pace when I passed by the party. They moved by, completely failing to notice me, talking amongst themselves. I took the time that I had to examine my environment.
It was nighttime. The sky was clear, the moon was in the sky. Not a single cloud managed to cover it up. The trees had shed almost all of their leaves, save for the evergreens. Whatever was left on their sturdy skeletons was a beautiful orange, red, yellow, or brown.
I moved along, my hooves ruffling the grass loudly, but I didn’t care. The Keepers were far past me and might have thought I was some wild animal. Cold and alone, I continued to stroll forward. I have nothing now. I have no home, no food, no water. No father. The pony that died back inside the living room was Tempered Steel, my father. And I am Silencio Virtuoso Freesoul. I will make sure that name lingers in the mind of my father’s murderer.
Keepers killed my father.
Luna is the one responsible.
