A Final Letter (revisited)
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A FINAL LETTER
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"Off you trot, dear. You have your backpack nice and tight? Remember to try not to crumple anything."
Melonbuckle, who stood outside the semi-hinged door to the orphanage, waited for the avid Mrs.Peanut to stop her lecture patiently.
"Oh, and don't forget to smile."
It wasn't fair that she was getting all this strife, out of all the ponies in the orphanage. Why couldn't she bother someone else? "Can I pleeease get going, miss? I don't want to be late again," whined the pink unicorn filly.
"Just trust me one more thing, now," the older mare said. "Don't talk to anypony you aren't delivering to, or you don't know." She drew her face closer to the filly, and whispered, "Especially not... well, you know"
It was common knowledge around the small town of Yan Hoover whom she meant. Bronze Wings, the old pegasus.
A long time ago, when Melonbuckle her friends were in the crib, a terrible catastrophe happened. The pegasus invaded.
They flew through the town, plundering everything in sight. The few militia the town could recruit were beaten back with incredible ease. They defeated innocents with incredible ease, the books sparing most of the grisly details, until the mayor ran out to surrender the town to them.
And ever since then there had been an orphanage. An old and badly damaged building, barely fit for those who now lived in it, or so Melonbuckle was told. She personally had never lived anywhere else, not that she could remember.
Slowly after the annexation, the pegasus invaders chose their fates. Some went on to further battles in the east and south. Some chose to stay and retire, and were given wealthy accommodations by their superiors. Bronze Wings was one of those, the only to stay in Yan Hoover.
Melonbuckle cantered out onto the brick road on her way to the post office. It was a long journey from one side of the town to the other, and her legs were always waned by the time she got there. There were other ponies out too, going to their workplaces at the start of the day, while another group cut off from the rest were grouped around at one side of the dirt road, shouting and laughing.
"How high and mighty are you now?"
"You deserve every bit of this, you know."
Melonbuckle moved her tiny head into the crowd, and saw with a fright what they were doing. The crowd was directing their hate towards an aged pegasus sitting on the sidewalk, skin and bones. He had a fur cloak around him, covering his dirty service awards.
"Get out of town, wretch. And take your medals for murder along with you, eh!"
Melonbuckle stared for a while, then looked up to the nearest pony next to her. "What happened?" She asked.
"Justice, that's what. The old fool's been kicked out of his home." The pony pointed a hoof rudely at Bronze Wings. The pegasus looked onwards at the pavement in front of him, not showing anger, rather annoyance.
It made sense to Melonbuckle. She had been kicked out from a group of friends once before in the orphanage, after rightly taking a toy away from another colt. They said she was stealing, but the unicorn princess doll was the newest and greatest of toys they had, and that colt had been having way too long with it.
This pegasus had done far worse than taking a toy, though. His past was most likely wrought by his soldierhood, and now he was feeble, vulnerable to his enemies' jeers.
Melonbuckle withdrew, and walked away slowly, keeping close attention to a conversation two unicorns were having at the edge of the crowd. She learnt that a couple of days ago, Bronze Wings' house was robbed by a group of local unicorn residents while the pegasus was there. They took as many valuables as they could before he found them. As they fled, the unicorns set fire to his garden, blocking him from being able to continue the chase.
She had known that the only thing she had ever seen the aged stallion do was tend to his garden, and would threaten anypony who would dare touch the flowers he had grown. And now they were all burnt to ashes, an intentional plan by the thieves, most like.
Why are they so mean to him now, though?, she thought. Did anyone really deserve that treatment? She knew the answer the ponies in the crowd would respond with, so she didn't bother asking them while they continued to mock and laugh.
But did she think that he deserved such treatment? The pegasus was one of the soldiers who may have killed her friends' mothers and fathers, or maybe even her own. She never knew her mother or father, as she was too little at the time of their departure. It may well be evil to have been willingly part of such a dark deed, but was it reason enough to look down on the perpetrator for the rest of his life?
* * *
A cold chill went through the air. It was nearing the end of day, and Melonbuckle went to the post office to deliver her final letter for the day.
"Getting ready to call it a night, then?" said the head mail mare. "Ya're in luck. The last letters' address goes to your home. I hope it's something special."
The mail mare's words echoed through the streets as Melonbuckle set out. She was not afraid of the dark, or at least that's what she said to herself. Regardless, the little filly went on at a trot through the blackened streets, devoid of the audience it held hours before.
It was quiet when she started, but gradually a few rough voices could be heard in the distance:
"Ha, did'ya see that wretch out here?"
"Huh, yeah. Stupid ass should'a locked his doors if he was smart"
Melonbuckle kept moving, hoping she wasn't within sight of the hidden ponies. They were ponies she didn't know, hadn't heard of, and Mrs. Peanut would scold her if she got too close, she bet.
"Ya know, they're calling us heroes, some of 'em. Dead right, they are."
"Huh, yeah."
The voices soon went away. The pink filly sighed with relief, and carried on along the road. Not long now. A few seconds later, and she bumped into something, and looked up to see what it was.
"Well look who we have here, ay?" sneered the orange stallion, staring at the filly, smiling grimly. "It ain't polite to run into others without apologizing, now."
She froze in her tracks at the stallion. "Um, s-so sorry mister! I'll be on my way, right now, please," stuttered Melonbuckle, turning around to face into another pony.
A mare looked at her bag, with the letter poking out of it. "He'll be wanting more than a sorry, missy. What're you carrying there, some mail?"
"Heh, I wasn't thinkin' about that, sis. You got any bits?" said the orange stallion.
"You fool. What's to say that the mail's not got some bits in it?" the mare scowled.
"We could use that bag she's be carry'in. A nice bag, it is," said another stallion, somewhere unseen.
The orange stallion sneered into the darkness. "You dirty sods. Get the letter first, check it for bits, then do what yer will."
"I don't think so," said another voice.
The next few moments were quick, and hard to decipher. One moment the orange stallion, still the only pony she could see, looked over in the direction where the fifth voice came from. The next was flurry of movement, with a shining blade swiping past his head. The rest of the gang came out of their hiding place. She could hear a sheath, and saw knifes glisten in the moonlight.
Moments later, and there were screams and cries all around her, and she saw the wicked gang flee into the shadows of the nearby alleyways, some of them bleeding.
There was a cough from one side. Melonbuckle lit her horn up to see her saviour. It was Bronze Wings. "Are you alright?", she asked him.
"Do I look alright to you?" he panted. Melonbuckle saw wounds across the old pegasus' frail body.
The pegasus stumbled, then fell to the floor. He looked over her. "The mailpony. Melonbuckle, is it?" He coughed. "You've received the letter to the orphanage?"
"Yes," she whimpered.
"Good." He coughed again. "Forget about me, kid. And stop looking like you're worried. An old dying pegasus is a saint's pleasure here." The saying meant more a less a gift from the gods, but Melonbuckle couldn't say the same about a crippled old horse. "Give that letter to the one in charge... Peewee."
"Mrs Peanut?"
"I don't know the name, just deliver it to... her." He spluttered, having a violent coughing fit. "Take care, filly. Talk to no more strangers... I can't help you no more."
The stallion coughed a few times, and stopped. The streets became quiet again.
Bronze Wings was a soldier involved in the invasion of Yan Hoover. And the rumours were true; he was among those who fought the militia defending the town, killing many, with there being every chance that he had killed Melonbuckles' parents. He was already nearing retirement, having spent over thirty years in the army, and asked for a manor in the town to live in for the rest of his days.
He never forgot what he had done. How many had he killed? How many families had he broken, cutting the chords of harmony with a sharpened sabre? It was at first a small thought, lingering as he slept at night. The starving children he had left behind, begging for food as he looked in shame from an ornate window.
When he tried to help, the children ran from him. When he walked through the streets, unicorns hissed at him as they trotted by, muttering foul words behind his back.
He was a stallion of honour, and stayed only by his feeling that he had caused the pain, and deserved their actions because of it. A true pegasi was bound to his law, and his law was justice,
In his last years, he grew a garden with seeds he had to buy abroad. His reason?
All he had done throughout his long life had been to kill, to take from others for his own survival. He had made it into an art, and the only one he knew well. He wanted to give back to the world. To give life, rather than destroy it.
Regretting and tossing aside his past life, Bronze Wings pursued his newest hobby. It was the only thing he could do, the only thing that mattered anymore. His skills grew along with his creations, blossoming evermore into wonderful creations he would have never dreamed of making before.
And then, the worst possible thing. The thieves had stolen more than they knew, destroying the flowers and plants surrounding his estate. They stole away the few things he had ever cared for. His purpose and therefore his life, he decided— was over.
* * *
"Melonbuckle! Are you alright? Are you hurt?" shouted Mrs Peanut, galloping over to the pink filly standing in the middle of the brick road, a deceased grey pegasus laying beside her. "Melonbuckle?"
"I-I'm fine," replied the pink filly, looking at her coat. It was stained in blood patches, the ends of her hairs standing up.
Mrs Peanut reached the scene with haste, and upon her destination analysed Melonbuckles' surroundings. She took a glance at the pegasus. "Is he... gone? Did he hurt you?"
"No," said Melonbuckle. "There were some scary robbers, and he made them run away. He saved me."
"Well," said the mare, taking another look at the corpse, and turning back again. "Thank the magi you're okay. I'll get you safe inside now, don't you worry." She led the filly into the orphanage, wary of every dark alleyway and corner.
Once they had entered the orphanage, Mrs Peanut ran a bath for Melonbuckle, and rinsed off the stains on her coat. She heated up a mug of hot water, giving it to the filly as she sat in a rotting armchair by the crackling fire.
Mrs Peanut stepped to the side of the chair, her hooves softly tapping the stone floor. "There are some bad ponies out there, Melonbuckle. And I'm sorry you had to see them today. But I'm also so happy to see you safe. Please promise me never to deliver letters so late at night again, if not for yourself, then for me! Don't worry, we'll deliver the one you have with you in the morning, I'll explain what happened to the head mail-mare. Now, promise for me."
"I promise."
"Good," said the mare, relieved. "Finish up your water quickly, and I'll get you back to bed, safe and snug"
"But, Mrs Peanut. The letter..." Squeaked Melonbuckle.
"Yes, we will deliver it in the morning dearie. For now, we'll be off to bed."
"...It's for you. I mean, it was sent to the orphanage." Her horn glowed as she levitated the letter to Mrs Peanut.
"Oh, sorry! Thank you, Melonbuckle." She picked the letter up with her mouth and nodded to filly placing the letter on a nearby table. She opened it with her own magic, a key dropping out as well the letter. She lifted the letter up immediately.
Melonbuckle sat and drank the now lukewarm water, watching her carer from a distance.
The mare frowned at the paper. As time went on, her eyes grew wider, blinking, her jaw dropping. Finally, she placed the letter back onto the table. She turned her head towards the filly, hesitating half-way. A few seconds past, and then she spoke. "Melonbuckle dear, you may want to read this."
She levitated the letter over to the filly in the armchair without another word. It read:
"To the owner and fillies of Yan Hoover orphanage...
In my previous life I committed horrible deeds.
I have never had the chance to make up for my sins, always taking, never giving.
I bestow unto you my earnings, trinkets and other goods as well as my estate, Pillarcrest manor, and any other holdings I own. The key to the manor has been placed in this letter. You will find the vault containing my earnings in my private quarters upstairs behind the drawers. The combination is 63027. I will be moving out shortly. You will most likely never see my face again.
This is all I can ever hope to offer you. Never let it rest in the wrong hooves again.
Bronze Wings."
* * *
"Hurry up! You don't want to be late for your first day, do you?"
Grey haired Mrs Peanut led little fillies and colts to the fountain and garden area. The children dipped and dived as they passed through the mahogany door of the orphanage.
"What're we doing, miss?" asked one of the colts, over the laughter of one of his friends bolting past him.
"We're doing what ever filly and colt before you has done for the past five years," replied Melonbuckle, standing side by side with Mrs Peanut. "Planting the new seeds in the safety of Pillarcrest greenhouse, and taking the fully bloomed ones to the gardens, so they will look even more beautiful than they did last year."
The group reached the greenhouse, trotting away at a leisurely pace from the tall and proud building they left from. As they made their way through the luscious greenery, one of the fillies, Bellspeckle, raised a hoof.
"Yes?" said Mrs Peanut, looking at the filly.
"Who's that?" asked Bellspeckle, pointing her hoof now at the pegasus statue circled by vines and plants with multi-coloured flowers.
"A good question, and one that hardly ever gets put forward. We don't have many statues of pegasi, do we Melonbuckle?"
"No, we don't," answered the pink mare. "But the one we do have is for the most generous of them all— the one who made all this possible. His name was..." Melonbuckle turned her face towards Mrs Peanut, and smirked. "Well, you should all know."
"But I don't!" Bellspeckle squeaked. "What's his name?"
Mrs Peanut tutted. "There's a reason our fine establishment is the Bronze Wings orphanage, dear, and best you don't forget it."
