On the borders of the fair town of Ponyville, there stands a tall thatched building. This building, awarded by Pinkie Pie herself as the unofficial life and soul of Ponyville, sees everything from birth to death, marriage to funerals and make ups to break ups. It lives on social interaction and it breathes the alcoholic fumes of its various beverages.
Every-pony in Equestria knows the name of this place; it is their pilgrimage: their thing to visit before the spectre guides them to the lands beyond. So famous is it that the hoof steps of celebrities often frequent the thick slate slabs that decorate the floor. However, it cares not for prestige as here they can clack pints with the common folk. Here, they are brothers and sisters of booze and comrades until closing time.
This place, full of willing ears and a million stories, is The Horseshoe Inn. It is the life blood of a community and the curator of good times. It is my love, my life and my home.
Why do I tell you of this fantastically wonderful place? Well, behind its walls lie the ponies of the world. Each one is a protagonist of their own destiny. Behind those walls, there is life. And life is a wonderful thing.
And so, I am going to tell you a tale of two drinkers: one a musician, the other a weather pony. As you might expect, they were neither regulars nor were they local, but it was here that their lives changed. It was here that they found their true selves.
I warn you, this is no story of courage or valour. There are no star crossed lovers or love at first sight. No, this was just an evening like any other in The Horseshoe Inn. But, it is in the everyday events that the true magic lies. You just have to look harder to find it.
<><
Now let me take you back to last winter on the night otherwise known as Hearths Warming Eve. A terrible rain storm ruined the picturesque whiteness of a winter landscape with the mottled tones of grey and brown. Trees bent and swayed as if their bark was nothing more than rubber. Shutters clanged and clattered against their houses, loosing terrible needle-like splinters that swirled in the howling wind and shredded flesh like sandpaper. Rain assaulted the earthbound realm, churning the thick blanket of snow into a sea of thick, muddy slush. So bad it was that candlelight barely made an indent on the encroaching darkness and even powerful electric torches struggled. This was a storm like no other. It was less a natural phenomenon and more a natural disaster.
But in the darkness and against all odds, I noticed a figure, hidden under a thick layer of penetrating rain, trudging on, guided by the welcoming light of my inn. The wind gripped and tore at his ruined cloak like a feral beast on prey. However, a box strapped tightly to his back defied its terrible grasp. By the way he twitched and swivelled to keep it from harms reach, it was obviously something valuable.
The trudge ended underneath a large wooden horseshoe that marked the entrance to the inn. The mysterious pony bashed a hoof against the solid oaken door that barred him from safety. Bash. Bash. Bash. The sound reverberated around the pony until it faded under the heavy patter of rainfall.
The door creaked open by none other than I: the bartender and owner of this establishment. I watched warm light strip away the overbearing oppression of the storm. He unconsciously leaned towards the warmth of an open hearth fire that blazed in the centre of the room. His nose twitched as the tantalising smell of herbs radiated from the soup that simmered in a small black couldron above the life giving flames. But I remember most his stone grey eyes. In a few moments I watched grim determination turn to hope, and then to relief. It may only have been for one night, but still I welcomed him in as one would welcome a long lost relative.
"Welcome to The Horseshoe Inn," I said merrily. "Come in, sit down, warm up and have a drink." I helped him out of his sodden cloak and sat him at a table near the fire with the mysterious box propped on the seat next to him. I smiled as I saw his white-as-snow figure huddle ever closer to the warmth (although I worried that his black and red mane would catch fire!) He even outstretched his wings; nothing was spared the drying treatment.
I made a mental note to check his cutie mark. One in my occupation has seen almost everything adorn the multicoloured backsides. From animals to gems to abstract shapes, I've seen them all. That is how I guessed that the three number 9's arranged in a cylindrical fashion with the tip pointing outwards was something to do with music (I later found out that that mark was called a triple clef). That meant inside that box was a musical instrument.
The pony sipped his drink with the enthusiasm of one who expects to find poison. Apart from the polite interaction with me, he did not look away from whatever his hooves were holding. Once I was sure I had made him comfortable, I turned to serve other customers. The storm had brought only a couple of residents in, leaving the bar on the quiet side. I did not mind though, it was nice to have a break from the usual hassle of a crowded inn. I made a mental note to check up on the pony later and see if I could help.
<><
Thump...Thump...Thump. I stared at the front door quizzically. A series of chimes from my old attention seeking grandfather clock had just reminded everypony that eleven o'clock had been and gone. I must admit I did not expect to hear that sound again that night. However, there was some-pony stuck in the storm and he or she needed my help. With my widest smile, I pulled the thick metal ring with a firm grip of my maw.
On the other side, a teary eyed pegasus sat with her soaked purply-red mane hanging down loosely to her front hooves. A curious set of goggles hugged her neck where, instead of clear lenses, disks of luminescent green illuminated her bright orange coat with its eerie tint. "Th-th-thankyou," she said, her eyes not meeting mine. She sniffled. I was not sure if it had anything to do with her puffy eyes, her solemn expression or maybe it is the first sign of a cold. Either way, I gave her a curt bow. "Welcome to The Horseshoe Inn," I said. "Come in and relax. You look like you need it." She nodded and plonked herself on another table next to the fireplace.
I brought her a tall frothy beer and poured her some soup. I knew that would help cure her of any physical ills, but what bothered her was more than simple soup could cure.
Her cutie mark confused me though. At first glance I thought it was Princess Luna's! On closer inspection though, the crescent moon fixed on her behind was much more detailed, it showed craters and everything! Also the purply background was textured, as if they were...clouds. Yes clouds. This was a night weather pony! Those goggles must be night vision lenses! A pegasus night weather pony was a rare find. Most of the time, towns outsourced all nocturnal activities to bat ponies, the night was their domain after all.
I left her to it and began the timely operation of cleaning down the bar.
<><
And so the evening progressed and all attention turned towards my scarred, stained, beaten yet somehow still standing grandfather clock. It was only five minutes until Hearths Warming. The patrons of the bar sung holiday tunes horrifically out of key. Even the storm saw fit to add its chilling wail through the cracks in the door. But no-pony cared; this was a night for celebration.
However, as the minute hoof continued its quest to reach the peak of its eternal adventure, I noticed something magical. The ponies, who sat solemn by the fire, happened to glance at each other at just the right moment. Even through their misery, a thought of togetherness of this auspicious occasion prompted them to chat. I strained my ears in their direction. I knew eavesdropping was bad, but I could not help myself. This was the magic of this inn in action.
"...feeling down too eh?" This was the white pony talking. For that moment he was all laughter and smiles, but his facade was hollow. No laughter or joy lurked in those cold, stony eyes of his. Apart from that, his act was convincing and perfectly adequate for a gig.
The orange pegasus nodded, but her tears brought her saddened gaze away as she hid them from the kind stranger. Instead, she stared blankly into the fire.
"It's almost Hearth's Warming," continued the white pegasus with the red and black mane, "The time for friendship, family and harmony..." He took a deep breath as if he were about to plunge headfirst into the freezing cold water that currently pelted the roof. "My name is Bass Harmony."
"Night Flight," said the mare. Her eyes remained focused on the fire as her voice remained impassive. It was as if Bass Harmony was nothing but a blotch on her goggles to be brushed off and ignored.
Bass's eyes widened. "You're that night weather pegasus, stickin' it to those uptight Leather-wings!"
"I was..." If it were not for Wheat Sheaf and Barley Straw in the corner hollering "Puddinghead's Pudding" like there's no tomorrow, the inn would have fallen deathly silent. But this building has always looked after her guests and it was no surprise that the Apple's in the corner joined in for the daft chorus.
The voices of the ponies of interest faded into nothingness as more and more patrons succumbed to the temptation of terrible singing. I found myself humming along with the catchy tune, but work went on as there were still plenty of beer mugs to clean...
My grandfather clock finally chimed into action to the drunken chorus of "Happy Hearth's Warming!" followed by more raucous singing.
I noticed Bass Harmony's ears droop as a worried grin spread across his face. It was as if he had only just realised he could be treading on eggshells. However, it was not all bad. The veil of misery that sounded her slumping figure lifted in an instant and I noticed a quizzical expression form on her face.
Patrons started clogging the bar as they clamoured for the first drinks of the new day. I rushed to serve them as quickly as possible, filling up fresh tankards with the frothy orange cider as quickly as the tap would allow. I kept casting a glance back as curiosity filled me like the drink I was pouring.
"Merry Hearths Warming, Miss Flight." Bass Harmony clanked his cup against hers before downing the pint in four large gulps. He sighed in relief and placed the empty cup, upside down, on top of his head. Small droplets of cider rolled down the spikes of his colourful mane and dripped onto the table.
A faint and delicate smile spread across her muzzle, "You too, Mr Harmony."
<><
The night drew on and the inn descended further into a drunken oblivion. The dark slate flooring suffered the calamity of spilt drink and a leg on one of the benches snapped, sending half the Apple family sliding into one another. They all laughed it off as I apologised and dragged the useless chunk of wood outback for repair. I returned to the blessed warmth of the pub soaking wet and thoroughly chilled. I used the excuse of free pints to get a moment by the fire and dry my overly long red-ish mane.
"Thank you," said the two pegasi in unison. Alcohol had taken the edge off the couple's misery. The eyelids on Bass already hung low and a slur invaded his speech. Three empty pint glasses littered the table where both ponies sat. My nose told me that it was the Apple's trademark cider dripped from his mane. Oh the stupid games drunks play! But I did not mind, he seemed to be having fun.
Night Flight, who was also a few pints in, had found her smile. She may not be playing the same game as her accomplice but, by the way she handled the last pint, the games had only just begun. "Now Mr Harmony! It's a very special day today. I...I want you to finish that pint right now!" One of the few full pints left scraped along the table top, spilling some of the precious contents onto Bass's awaiting hoof.
I glanced again at the orange coated pony. She belched something furious and blushed when she noticed my curious gaze. I chuckled and told her not to worry. "It's just a sign of appreciation," I said.
Bass picked up his pint and, with an evil looking smirk, said, "Ladies first!"
I left them too it, happy that they were enjoying themselves. Behind the bar, I watched them neck back their pints, with Bass ending with the upside down cup flourish. To my surprise that earned them an applause from the Apple Family (To which, Bass Harmony bowed, stumbled but managed to recover) and two more drinks courtesy of Big Macintosh.
Night Flight spent a moment belching with a hoof over her chest and mouth, as if that would help control the flow of escaping gas. For that moment, she did not look well. But, like any solid drinker, she powered through and beamed merrily, her cheeks glowing like the lights on the Hearth's Warming tree.
"Go again?" asked Bass Harmony, that wicked smile back on his face.
"I have a better idea." Night Flight ushered him back to their bench. From nowhere, she pulled out a purple ribbon and tied back her mane. A giant purple bow hid the back of her head and obscured my vision of the table. Luckily, their drunken voices were enough to drown out the Wheat Brother's conversation.
"You see her?" Night Flight's hoof stopped at another orange coated pony wearing an iconic hat.
Applejack sat happily sipping a Manehatten brewed beer. I guess even the Apple's get tired of their own cider eventually. Next to her, Big Macintosh whispered something into her ear. He looked rather comical on their last remaining bench. He sat hunched over with his fore hooves resting on the table like dead weights. I could see that every time he tried to move, the table would bob up and down as overgrown limbs struggled in the limited space. Unfortunately, I do not get many ponies of his stature so to make a table especially for him was just not practicable.
"Yes..." Bass stared at her as if unsure. Hell, I was staring at her at this point.
"She's the element of Honesty!" I face-hooved. Bass just laughed and took another mighty swig of his drink. "She's saved us many times," cried the mare, her face contorting and her cheeks burning. If eyes could burst into flame, they would have done so. "She-" her eyes searched the wooden surface of her bench for words "-she. Ummm, she deserves our thanks!"
And like that, she was standing. The bench fell hard on the stone slabs with a mighty clack. Her posture swelled with the blind confidence gifted to her by my trade and, after a couple of deep inhalations, she approached her hero. "Applejack!"
Applejack turned and greeted Night Flight warmly, "Hey, why don't ya pull up a seat? We'd be mighty delighted teh have more company."
"Eeyup," agreed Big Macintosh with a nod.
"Applejack! Umm...Thank you!" Night Flight burned a shade of red that could turn a tomato grey in comparison. I cringed.
"For what sugarcube?" the mare looked genuinely confused. But I could see what was really going on here. My heart reached out for this blushing and stuttering mare. It was just so cute and...Innocent. Applejack reassured her with a gentle touch and smile. "Is everythin' ok?"
"She's absolutely fine!" interjected Bass Harmony as his chest heaved with suppressed laughter. "Do you mind if I take her for a while?"
"Yer what now?" said Granny Smith as her heavy eyelids drooped shut and, once again, filled the inn with her echoing snores.
"I'll take that as a yes." Bass pulled Night's tail until she shook her head out of her stupor.
"Well, we just learnt something about you!" smiled Bass as he handed her another drink and clacked their mugs together. "Cheers!"
<><
The evening continued and very soon, the gathered crowd decided it was time to face the storm once again. That left Bass Harmony, Night Flight and I. The inn settled into a more relaxed environment. I sat in a chair and listened to the crackle of the fire. Normally, I would have kicked out all patrons by now but seeing it was Hearth's Warming, I thought I would see Celestia's sunrise before I retired.
The two pegasi sat next to the flames and chatted in hushed tones, not wanting to disturb the peace of the bar. "What am I doing?" muttered Night Flight. Bass just returned it with a quizzical look. Night sighed. Tears sprouted in the corners of her eyes. "The sun rises soon," she muttered, "I don't want it to rise."
"Why not?" asked Bass.
"I...I have to face facts. I've lost my job. I'm useless."
"That's not true!" Bass stomped his forehooves on the table, rattling mugs of water. "No-pony is ever useless!"
"But..."
"Night Flight, I may have known you for one evening. But I know you're not useless." His tone softened and a reassuring smile formed on his lips. "There's only one official weather pony in Ponyville anyway. Getting a job here will be easy."
Night Flight grunted as he cut her off before she could speak. "You may not be a bat pony. But you are a night weather pony! The worst thing you can do is just give up. I would know. A musician's life is about dealing with failure. It is your destiny to fly in the darkness; your cutie mark says so. Make them realise that."
Night Flight looked stunned. I was impressed, after a night of drinking and he still had clarity of thought. I was jealous!
A moment of silence passed where we just revelled in the tranquillity of a crackling frame and the tapping of the rain on the windows and roof. "Thank you," said Bass Harmony. It was his turn to stutter. "Y-You made me happy today." Another silence filled the room, while he hung his head over the table. He sniffled. When he looked back up, he had dropped his facade. I saw the face of a pony on the brink: one whom has considered to force the spectre's hand. I did not know what to do. Hindsight poured molten lead into my belly as the guilt clogged my lungs. My brain screamed, "I should not have served him alcohol" over and over again. What if he...?
And then it was gone. It was as if the burden, the weight of the trauma he suffered just left his wearied shoulders. He smiled weakly as he wiped the budding tears with a hoof before they formed.
Night Flight stared wide eyed as she processed the same information I did. She tried to form words but she was just as speechless as I was.
He burst out laughing. It started as a throaty chuckled and ended as a hacking boom that stripped him of all breath. "What a pair we are to be so unhappy on this festive occasion." he said as he regained control. Smiles and laughter returned to the forefront and, for the first time I realised he was genuine. She smiled back.
And so the silence returned but it was neither cloying nor uncomfortable. It felt light and refreshing as if I were swimming in the clearest of lakes. This was peace. This was harmony.
<><
And so the morning came and the glorious rays of Celestia's sun soon replaced Luna's moon. And with the light came peace from the consistent patter of rain on thatch. The two ponies left when the light touched the door. If they ever saw each other again, I am not sure. All I know is that two ponies, through a chance encounter, managed to change their fates for the better.
I am grateful to have been witness to the magic of The Horseshoe Inn. It never ceases to amaze me.
