The world has little pity or patience, the stars and mountains have no business interfering with the fragile and fleeting lives of those that pass by. For one brief moment however, they shared that moment in time with the figure lying below both. Under the clear northern skies, with a chill wind blowing harsh and bitterly, a grey form lies sprawled within a red stain of contrast against the soft white. These mountains are lifeless, though the life slipping away from them now is a frequent visitor. They were his home, once. The mountains and vast expanses of ice and snow are home to many, though such harshness can not sustain a static life. Only the nomadic can survive, the ones willing to take all they have with them as they travel through life. This pony had done the same, and had led it here to its intended climax. Though of course, stories rarely begin at the end, even if a pony met his end close to the beginning.
Twenty one years earlier, the very same pony is brought into the world within a small tent. The wind outside howls and beats at the canvas, the sound of whipping rope and rippling fabric trying to drown out the cries of the new arrival. Blankets cover the floor, two ponies sat either side of the mother as she cradles the most precious thing imaginable in her own personal world. His fragile form and tiny, scrunched up features protest against the noise outside with weakly flailing limbs and tears, but the ponies surrounding him only smile. They have tears of their own, though of a much happier origin. Although for those ponies, this moment may seem an eternity of happiness, hours soon turn into days, days into months, birthdays and milestones. Adulthood comes far too quickly, and childhood is all too soon just a fond memory.
One particular morning that seems the same as any other, he wakes within his tent to one of his favourite sounds, the bustling and talking of busy ponies outside, seemingly excited by something. The wind has dropped away to nothingness, the inside of the tent covered in warm blankets and furs. He sits up and blinks groggily, yawning and stretching his hooves and wings, his joints popping as he does so. He runs a hoof through his mane and clears the sleep from his eyes before standing and opening the door of the tent. The thin layer of powdery snow crunches softly under his hooves as he trots the short distance to the tent beside his. He bats on the canvas a few times with a wing before poking his head inside, smiling to the two ponies there. Both are older than him, a mare and a stallion.
“What’s all the fuss about? It’s a little early for anyone to be packing up isn’t it?” he speaks with a quiet voice, still tired from his sleep. The older stallion speaks up, himself sounding as if he’d just woken.
“You’re up early Silver… Ask your mother, she’s been out this morning already.”
The mare speaks up without turning from her task of sewing what seems to be a sleeping bag.
“We’ve met another village, everyone is so eager to trade. It’s been too long since we met any others; I think ponies are making the most of it. You know, in case it’s just as long till we meet another the next time.”
Silver nods as he listens, smiling widely “I can’t even remember the last time we… How old was I?”
“You were only four” The mare responds. She seems lost in thought for a moment before laughing softly “I remember when you found your way into the tent of one of the traders, oh what was it… bread. You snuck your way in and took these teeny nibbles of each loaf before moving onto the next. It’s a good thing your father is such a sweet talker, you were a troublemaker.”
Silver rolls his eyes, but smiles all the same. “Do you mind if I go and take a look at things? I’ll get my own breakfast later.”
“Alright, just be careful around the other camp. A few years ago we met one of the villages holding on to some very old values… They weren’t fond of pegasi, but they needed trade all the same. You can never be sure…” The mare seems uncomfortable as she finishes, but is soon back to a smile as Silver trots over to nuzzle her cheek
“I’ll be fine, hopefully I won’t be too long.” He says with a grin, before quickly trotting off in excitement.
All that fills his head as he walks along is this sudden sense of curiosity. This is all… different. His life had been the same for as long as he could remember. The same ponies, the same scenery, the same chores. Everything was routine and familiar. But this was exotic, it was completely alien to think he had to meet –new- ponies. He already knew everyone in the village, of course there were births now and then, but they soon just slotted into the village as they grew up. He’d done the same; he hadn’t ever had to meet ponies for the first time before. As he became more and more excited by this prospect of new and different experiences, his focus shifted to the world of possibility in his head. What snaps him back to reality is the sudden collision between himself and a white unicorn mare who happened to walk from behind a tent at just the wrong moment. He immediately begins helping the poor mare back to her hooves as he regains a hold on the real world. As his gaze moves to her face, he finds his tongue has mysteriously become glued to the floor of his mouth by an unknown force… Perhaps magic, which of course wouldn’t be out of the question. Silver’s gaze moves up to her horn as his tongue finds it’s freedom, expressing its delight by stammering and seizing over its intended sentence
“I…I’m sor-…I didn’t see… Are you?.. I mean I haven’t seen… Well technically I have… I was four!”
The mare giggles and stands again with his help, tilting her head slightly “Is that so? How interesting. I haven’t broken you, have I? That wouldn’t make a very good first impression here.”
Silver just nods slightly “I think so… I mean no! No of course not. About the breaking, that is… Not the first impression. Sorry… I should be watching where I’m going”
The mare raises an eyebrow “You’ve never seen a unicorn before have you? Either that or, I’ve got something stuck on my horn.”
“Oh, not since I was very young” He shifts his gaze back down to her eyes “What about you? Why did I say that? That’s such a stupid question, of course you have… What I -meant- to say was. Uhm… What I was going to say… “ He hesitates for quite some time, before squeaking out an uncertain “Hello”
The mare laughs warmly “That’s adorable. How about you start with your name, mine’s Snowfall. Yes I know… It doesn’t get many points for originality, but it’s better than some ponies I guess. Like, there are ponies in a village we met that just had colours for names, can you believe how silly that is?”
He clears his throat a little “I’m… Silver… Silver Lining…”
Snowfall looks horrified “Oh, I didn’t mean anything by what I said before, uh… That’s a wonderful name! I like it a lot!”
Silver smiles again weakly “Really? I’m glad, I like your name as well. My mother gave me mine. It was during that winter around twenty years ago, I’ve always been told it was the coldest and harshest winter for centuries. The village had been struggling an awful lot that winter and my parents had been having an especially hard time before I was born. The night I was born was the first night the wind finally dropped, so they called me Silver Lining. I have no idea why I told you all that. I keep trying to stop my mouth moving but it won’t listen to me. Please help I think I might be broken after a-“
Snowfall cuts him off with a hoof, laughing again lightly “How about I just show you around my village. We’re still setting things up, but I can introduce you to po… I can show you around.”
Silver nods happily, following alongside Snowfall as she trots away from the tents of his village, past the unseen border between the two, and into her own. She nods and smiles, greeting the ponies she passes as she goes. They return the gestures to her, but seem to ignore Silver entirely. Some even seem to eye him with an uncomfortable glare that he shies away from. He trots slightly closer to Snowfall, looking around with less curiosity, and more caution. He speaks very quietly so that only she can hear him as they walk
“Am I not supposed to be here..? "
Snowfall sighs softly “Don’t pay any attention to them… They don’t really like non-unicorns. I never understood why, but all the elders think that way.”
Silver nods in understanding “What about the other ponies your age. Do they think that way as well?”
She looks around idly as they walk “That’s the thing… There are only a few others my age to begin with, and they think the same as they were told.”
Silver also looks around as they continue walking through the tents, but much more nervously “Then why don’t you?”
She smiles and looks up “My father was an earth pony. My mother thought that it was wrong to think of others that way just because they weren’t unicorns like we were. She ended up… uh… Becoming recreational when we met another village. We moved on without her realising that she was carrying a child.”
Silver nods, though seems confused for a moment before figuring out what she means. “Ah, I see… How long do you usually stay to trade? And could I meet your mother? She sounds like a wonderful pony.”
The mare looks down, her smile fading “Usually a moon or two… And yes, she was a wonderful pony. She died two winters ago.”
Silver places a wing against her shoulder “I’m sorry to hear that, I didn’t mean to upset you”
Snow looks up to him, smiling again lightly and nuzzling into the wing “Don’t worry about it. Would you like to come back to my tent? I haven’t had breakfast yet, you can tell me all about your village.”
Silver nods excitedly “I’d love that!” before clearing his throat and returning the wing to his side. “I mean… Of course. I’d love to keep talking. And I like breakfast too.”
Snow laughs and trots on toward her tent, letting him inside before entering. Silver had finally explored his feelings of new-ness, but he found himself compelled to stay with her. Even after she started to feel familiar, something still felt curious and wonderful when he was there with her. He doesn't return to his own tent until later that afternoon, completely skipping his dinner and excusing himself with a fictitious stomach ache. As he lies in his tent, his usually chaotic and unorganised mind, full of curiosities and seemingly endless ideas began collapsing in toward a single topic. Every thought seemed to revolve around her, but why? What endless mystery could he find that would ever match this? Even as he slept that night, his dreams were haunted by her face and figure. Something had touched his soul that day, for better or worse, and places in his heart he’d never explored before began to open up to him. Out of all the new and curious things he’d ever explored in his life, he knew that she was his favourite, and he intended to explore it further.
