Time Stopped

by Nobody of Importance

Rating: everyone
Tags: Alternate Universe, Sad, Adventure, Random
Length: 3528

A very long time for a unicorn, a very short amount of time for a young colt, and the perils and wonders of time travel.

Everyone knows that there isn't just one dimension, not just one time, not just one world. Even in smaller spaces, there are specifically, multiple Ponyvilles. And in this particular Ponyville, large stone walls surrounds it. The world around it has collapsed and is nothing like it once was, and Ponville itself, knows nothing about it. Even Ponyville doesn't realize its changed; After all, everyone who lived there was an alicorn… right?

In a world where everything is not as it seems, a world where a single pony can destroy the delicate balance, a world of division; would you run?

This is a story about one unicorn in a town of alicorns. This is a story that shows her world falling apart, and her desperate attempts to save one small colt who could change the world.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2014-04-26 20:57:26 UTC

That One Mare...

Lazy rays of late morning sun poured heavily over stone crenelations and into the bustling town below. Though the sun was late as per standard, the citizens operated on a tight run schedule. Ms. Honey Heart had bread in the oven and a window full of baked goods ready, the steam and heat of the bakery sweeping down the street. She swung her door open wide, a small bell ching-aling-ing wildly. The mare smiled wide and stretched her wings lightly as she lit her horn brightly, flipping around the small wooden sign indicating that the store was open and ready for business. Lifting her straw broom from just inside the door, the middle aged mare brushed the cheerful hoof mat of any dirt, humming happily. The morning really was the best time of day in Ponyville, she thought, it was always when people were the friendliest, maybe because they were still tired.

And much like the light of day came pouring over the walls, ponies began pouring out of their houses. Honey Heart could name every one of these ponies, and who they were related to, were friends with and where they worked. She could see Metal Plate, the maintenance pony for the newspaper adjusting his tool belt under his wings while magically trying to not spill his coffee. Flying above the crowd like always was Lance Assault, one of the mayors guards, not using his magic as usual while trying to carry his bag and his lunch to work.

        Over the murmur and fervor of the morning crowd, Honey could hear one familiar voice over the rabble. Leaning on her broom, Honey gazed over the heads of the crowd to see another head popping out between ponies farther back. A mane of bright red popped above the the crowd for a moment, flashing forced smiles at anyone she bumped into.

        “Excuse- Pardon me! I- I need to- If you could just-!” Came the voice of the red maned mare, stuttering and forcing her voice - and way - through the crowd. The mare’s solid blue eyes met with her golden ones, and Honey nodded before stepping back inside the bakery. She lifted three fresh buns from the window display and a small package of butter into a brown bag before sauntering back outside, holding the bag up. The mare’s head popped above the crowd again, and with a wide grin her horn lit in a bright blue, snagging the bag as the crowd moved past the store.

        “I owe you!” She called, getting swept along with the crowd.

        “You’re telling me!” Honey called, shaking her head with a laugh as the mare in the crowd jumped up a few times to shoot a final smile.

That mare was always late to work, which was risky business, when you were a guard for the mayor. Honey Heart sighed and went back inside, hearing a ding from her oven, wondering why that mare didn’t just fly to work like the other guards… But that was just gossip, nothing Ms. Honey Heart wanted to get involved in. She looked off at the crowd of ponies heading for the bridge and smiled, before turning and going back into her shop.

The gentle sounds of water splashing against smooth stone resonated out of the small waterway, complemented by chimes, signalling that the bridge to the other half of town was being lowered. The murmur and rumble of the crowds of ponies as they approached the bridge with steps measured by habit, barely gazing at the bridge as they walked. Ever creatures of habit and things being consistent, the ponies talked and carried their lunches in their magical grips even as the blaring klaxons declared that no one was to approach the bridge until it was completely level.

        Creatures of habit themselves, two elderly stallions rose on rickety knees and adjusted their tawny caps, stepping in front of the old wooden table.

        “Get yer’ fresh fish here! Fresh caught fish!” Called Hook loudly, lips wobbling with volume and lack of teeth, causing the word fish to whistle slightly.

        “Fresh fresh fish! Fresh caught! Any color er’ the rainbow, straight from the lake!” Shouted Line, picking up one glass bowl with his magic and flapping to gain a bit of height. “Wanna treat yer’ pet? Got a kid who needs a pet?”

        Hook and Line, brothers who spent their times at the edge of the lake, talking about the past and fishing up every manner of things from the shallow depths, and only selling the few fish that ended up in the buckets at the end of the day. They knew it wasn't a very lucrative business, but every now and then somepony had a filly or colt that's pet fish died and they need to replace quickly, and that was where the two elder brothers made their money.

        Line sat back down with a loud exhale and raspberry to the air. He pulled his hat off and wiped it across his brow, taking away the small dotting of sweat. The sun was over the walls and already it was doing its job too well.

        “Hook, why don’t we just spend today at the lake? Ah’ve got a hankering to shoot the breeze and have some lunch in the fresh air.” Stated Line, looking at his twin brother - who Line swore was aging slower than him.  Hook turned back and looked at him with a smile.

        “Ah come on brother, Ah I can tell today is gunna be a good day, we’re gonna sell lots of fish. I can tell. We can spend ta’morrow fishin’, and Ah’m sure we’ll need to so we have more to sell ta’morrow!” said Hook, not looking away from the crowd that was now shuffling across the bridge. Line nodded once begrudgingly. His brother usually got his way with things.

        The crowds passed the two brothers and Hook continued his sales pitch and Line half heatedly chimed in. A few polite friends and relatives stopped by to state some one off statement - “ I may be expanding my fish tank soon,” or “ Well, Whiskers has been pretty good lately…” - before continuing on their way. Hook took a seat as well after several minutes of excuses and niceties.

        “Ya’ know what brother, maybe we should just go to the lake…” He started, pulling his hat off as well, only to make eye contact with pair vibrant and distorted blue eyes gazing through the warped glass of a fish bowl. “ Ah! Good graces lass, you scared the dickens out of me!”

        “Don’t I do that everyday? You need to be more on your toes, otherwise you’ll jump so high you’ll fall into the canal.” said the mare, standing up with a wide grin and a small laugh. “Hows business today?”

        Hook and Line both returned her grin, for it was this mare’s doing that the two always ended up subconsciously sticking around at their stand. The fiery haired mare always stopped - and made herself late for work in the process - talking to them. Not just a few niceties, but she would sit down and have honest conversations with them most days. She was also their most regular customer - which they attributed to her poor ability to take care of pets, the poor lass.

        “Business is as good as it always is, but its good to see ya today lass, as always.” Line said, laughing at his own joke. “ How can we serve ye’ ta’day?”

        “I was actually hoping to get another fish for the tank, Jebbes is getting a bit lonely.” She said a bit absently as she looked at a bright orange fish that swam in mellow patterns in one of the bowls. “ This little fella is perfect. I’d love to have him.” She lifted her head to grin at Hook and Line.

        “Well we’ll gladly let ya’ take him lass, our usual charge? “ Line said with a wink, pulling a small ‘sold’ sign out from under the table.

        “That sounds just fine, but I can’t take him with me now, I’ve got work today. Is it alright if I take him home after I’m done?”

        “Ah’ couse lass, he’ll be here when your done workin’.” Hook stated, gesturing with his hooves to the fully stocked table. The fire maned mare smiled widely again.

        “A deals a deal then.” She responds, horn glowing brightly to open a brown paper bag and lift a glistening roll from within. Tearing off a small chunk before pulling it into halves and passing the halves to the brothers, who smiled and took it within their own magic. “And of course a little for the fish,” She said as a known aside to the brothers, dividing the small chunk into enough crumbs for all the various bowls of fish.

        “Now then, I’ll see you two after my shift, shouldn't be more than a few hours, Kingly has finished training so he is going to start taking more shifts.” The mare said, stepping back from the table and starting to mix back into the crowd. “Bye you two!”

        “Bye!” Called the twins in unison, both rising from their chairs to watch the red mane disappear into the crowd and across the bridge, before darting from the main road and down an alley. That mare always avoided the main road for some reason… Patting his brother on the shoulder, Line returned with renewed vigor to calling to the crowd about their wares.

        The sound of hooves on dirty cobblestone echoed off of high stone walls and around the narrow back alley. Murmurs carried along the walls, and small glows along the alley way could be seen briefly before they were put out. The sun was over the walls, but the sun was hours away from shining down in on this darkened alley, and its inhabitants knew it, but there was no point in wasting their small lanterns or fire scraps when there was enough light to see by and enough heat to not shiver.

Ragged, old and infirm ponies talked amongst -and sometimes to - themselves as they took to their various hovels or mats. The sounds of coughs and sneezes were abundant, but even then the sound of a young female cough could be picked out from the ambient noise.

        Unbalanced hoof steps tap across the ground in a slow pace, the coughing clearly wracking the small filly’s frame. She stepped awkwardly from one of the side alleys to enter the grey light of the main drag, as it was so referred to. Splotches of dirt covered the filly’s robins egg fur and her green and pink mane was matted. She walked to a small pile of discarded fabric and fluff, settling herself amidst it. She pulled up a hole ridden and worn cut of burlap and draped it over herself.

        A sudden banging noise and bright light flooded the alley, eliciting yelps and coughs from the ponies in the alley. Eyes adjusted, the young filly looked towards the light and the shadowed figure within it.

        “Oi, I saw one of you cretins out of your zone! Don’t think we don’t pay attention!” Came a loud and bellowing voice that clearly strained from the volume. “If any of you get seen you know what happens! And if anyone else goes out for a midday stroll, none of you are eating tonight!”

        The light was gone as fast as it appeared and left with a much similar bang. Voices murmured between the various ponies around, a few blinded eyes looked in the young fillies direction with disgust and sympathy. The filly looked down at the ground and drug her hoof through a crack in the cobblestone absently to dissuade their glares.

It not fair, she thought to herself for the umpteenth time. Just because they were different, just because they weren't perfect like the rest of the town, didn't mean that they were lesser. It didn't mean they couldn't go out for parades or have regular food and not the scraps tossed to them. The small, wingless filly stamped her hoof once before sighing and brushing her mane away from her face and leaving a smudge of dirt across her cheek.

        Louder, quicker hoof steps were able to be heard now, hoof steps that were recognizable even to a homeless earth pony, whose ears perked up and a unintentional smile emerged on her face. Other ponies in the alley groaned and turned their backs to the alley, rifling through their meager possessions and items they had found. I really shouldn't be excited, she always told herself. It just another one of those towns ponies that works for the mayor. Thats the only reason she even knows I exist. Shes only being nice because she feels pity for me. That all it is. The filly looked down, fighting with her will to survive and her minor pride. Survival won out in the end.

        Hoof steps stopped just in front of the little nest of cloth and crouched down. The filly looked up to see a small, caring smile, and low lidded worried eyes.

        “What's wrong, Muffin? Aren’t you glad to see me?” asked the blue eyed mare, now looking a bit more worried than before. “Did the guards yell again?”

        The filly was always confused by this. What did she care? She was just a homeless filly who no one knew about, she should have blinked out of existence, but instead this mare seemed dead set on making her feel hope, hope that wouldn’t ever be able to last or be fulfilled. And, her name wasn’t Muffin, or Bun or Mouse or any of the other things the mare called her. She didn’t really have a name, not that she could remember. Though, she did admit grudgingly, the guards had a habit of calling her Crust or Scrap.

        “Yeah, but it’s okay… They are only doing their job.” Came the quiet and mildly pained voice of the filly, who started coughing upon finishing her sentence. Recovering, she looked up at the mare. “ And… Well, last night another one of the guards made us beg for our food. He went to each of us and made us repeat him.”

        “Oh really? I’ll have to have a word with whoever did that. Can you tell me what he looked like?” The mare looked disgusted and shocked, looking at the door with narrow eyes while she spoke. The filly shook her head.

        “No, I couldn’t see him, he had his lantern up really bright. But he sounded scary, and angry. He made us say - Thank you mayor for our lives, thank you guard for our food. Allow me to beg like the stray I am for my food.” The filly’s eyes welled up with anger. It was a matter of pride and survival, and survival always won out, no matter how much she wanted to rear up and hoof that guard in the nose, even as a young filly she knew better than to do that.

        And as suddenly as she was feeling grown up, the mare wrapped her hooves around the dusty little filly and hugged her tightly. The angry tears mixed with surprise and joy and brimmed over her eyes. She didn’t dare return the hug, but she accepted it, and she felt the mares warmth seeping into her. Slowly, after a nearly awkward amount of time, the mare pulled back, eyes watery as well.

        “I’m so sorry. I wish I could have been here, then that wouldn’t have happened.” The mare’s horn lit and she lifted a warm smelling roll from her bag. With a sheepish smile, she moves it towards the young filly, waiting for her to take it. Muffin, Mouse, Bun or Crust, whoever she was, gazed at it with an almost watering mouth.

Am I really being offered this? Could I really take it? Those thoughts would have and have indeed crossed her mind, several weeks ago when this ritual started. Both fear and mistrust were her only thoughts back then, but now, she knew that this mare meant no harm and only seemed to want to apologize for what her people had done. It was uncharacteristic for a town of alicorns - as they liked to call themselves, they were not fond of winged unicorns or horned pegasi - to have someone who cared for a dirty little filly.

Snapping out of her own memories and ponderings, Muffin, Mouse, Bun or Crust took the roll and smiled.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

And with the echoing sounds of hooves, the creaking of an old door and a flash of light, the mare was gone, the filly had a meal, with little less than an exchange of niceties.

           The warm crackling of logs in a fire was a peaceful noise to enter a room to, but it was quickly drowned out by the rowdy and loud yells of the guards within the room. Several de-armored guards were gathered around a table, playing an apparently riveting game of cards. Waving, the red haired mare walked past them and through to the next room of the guard house, late as is and not one for socializing.

The armory was disorganized and cluttered as usual, metal armor and spears shimmering brightly in the lantern light. Stepping deftly through the tumble of armor, the blue eyed mare opened her locker and levitated out her chest piece and helmet, settling them on herself. She tossed her fiery mane to the side with a small sigh.

“Yo! Atla!” Came a voice from behind her, causing her to turn. The voice came from one of the newer recruits, a plucky stallion whose glasses were always askew, named Lensflare. “Are you still up for having us over tomorrow night? All of… Well us new guards really appreciate the way you’ve been helping us. Cause… Well, you know about us and don’t seem to care.”

“Of course, I’ve got some of Hearty’s pie, and its gonna be a great night.” Said the mare, grabbing her spear from the wall. She walked over to him and patted his armored shoulder. “I’m glad you guys are adjusting well.”

‘Its all thanks to you. You are the only one here who treats us like we aren’t outcasts.” Lensflare said, eyes downcast slightly.

“Its cause you're not outcasts, you aren’t different from me.” She said before turning. “Anyway, I gotta go, I’m already late for my shift. See you tomorrow night!”

After two or three short hallways, the red haired mare entered the Town Hall from a side entrance. Various ponies waited in seats lining the walls, hooves folded patiently - or impatiently in some cases. Stood on the right side of the large, shimmering walnut lacquer doors was an equally large and shaggy mare in shimmering guards’ armor. The mare at the door stood stoically, though she seemed to have an absent and contented grin on her face.

Quickly trotting past the shaggy brown mare, the red maned mare took up a similarly stoic guards position on the left of the door.

A moment passed, a beat dropped, and neither one said a word.

“Yer’ late,” came a deeply accented voice. The mare turned her blue eyes to look upon her significantly larger and fluffier counterpart.

“Yes, and you were day dreaming.”

“That doesn’t make for a hooey of difference lass! I was here on time, and I brought lunch. What do ya’ have ta’ say for yer’ self?” the brown mare ruffled her wings and adjusted her helmet with her magic, looking at her partner from the side.

“...A hooey? What in the world is a hooey? Should I be concerned about this?”

Another beat, and a rumble of laughter from the brown mare and a chuckle from the red haired mare.

“Ahhah… Ms. Burn you certainly are a card, never let anyone tell ye’ different. So tell me Atla, what made ye’ late this time?”

“Well Mrs. Broth, I thought that my good friend Hearty might appreciate a roll with her lunch, so I painstakingly took the time to stop by the bakery and retrieve one for her, but I don’t know if she appreciates it or not… I might eat it myself…”

“...You got rolls agin’? Where is your sense of adventure? Why not a loafa’ rye or some of that tasty black bread one of the boys brought that one time…”

“Hearty Broth, are you here to tell me you are going to turn away food from your favorite guard?

“Atlamilia Burn, are you telling me you thought I was serious?”

“I dunno, how long are we scheduled for duty?”

“A full day lass, out at dusk.”

“Then no, I didn’t not think you were serious.”

Both mares smiled widely before bumping each other playfully. It was going to be another ordinary day, a full day of work, playful banter, and a walk home in the dark. Nothing out of the ordinary, for someone like Atlamilia Burn.