Chronicles of Equestria II: The Magician, the Toy Maker and the Past

‘Just hear those sleigh bells jingling, ring-ting-tingling too! Come on, it's lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with you! Outside the snow is falling and friends are calling, "Yoo hoo"! Come on, it's lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with you!’ echoed with two voices and a sweet melody through the rooms of the quaint little house on the edge of Ponyville, belonging to the lately less than prolific science fiction writer of the town.

“Love. Love is a peculiar thing.” said many of the greatest thinkers throughout many centuries of many cultures without even knowing of each other most of the time. Usually after saying that, they entered a thoughtful silence which they never left again, or at least not on the same topic.

Love really is peculiar though, isn’t it? After all, what is there to say of it? Nothing! Sure, some may go on long about how love makes them feel, but it’s rather a pretentious effort, attempting to use mortal words to describe something so utterly, undoubtedly, undeniably immortal as love. May as well count as blasphemy to try and explain it.

‘Giddy up, giddy up, giddy up, let's go! Let's look at the show! We're riding in a wonderland of snow. Giddy yap, giddy yap, giddy yap, it's grand, just holding your’ The song went on, but one of the voices paused, distracted; only continuing a word later: ‘We're riding along with a song of a wintry fairy land.’

Then again, it has to be acknowledged: If trying to describe love is blasphemy, it is of the necessary sort. After all, what can be more important than that? It is the fuel behind every single thing that grants happiness. “I love this dish.” “I love this picture.” “I love my friends.” “I love you.” - - The list goes on.

Without love, there is no friendship, there is no enjoyment, there is no eagerness. Without that, there is no art, no science. Nothing really, just a monotonous cycle of the automated machine called Nature. But of course, nature itself created love for its own mysterious reasons, so it’s not even nature that we’re left with once we’re without love.

‘Our cheeks are nice and rosy, and comfy cozy are we. We're snuggled up together like two birds of a feather would be. Let's take that road before us and sing a chorus or two! Come on, it's lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with you!’ A whistling noise joined in with the music, causing the voice which stopped previously to falter for a moment.

Of course, without love, there’s also no misery. Why take issue with the loss or lack of anything one does not love and enjoy? Why make an effort to survive if attacked? Or why attack anyone or anything if it won’t bring any good? Without love, not even the small consolation of stress or hunger relief can exist. Why bother multiplying as a single celled organism with but a faint breath of life, if there is no reward?

“Animals can’t feel love.” Some entitled philosophers would say, with their poems and proses of ‘love’, perhaps afraid how much smaller and less significant they would be in the grand opera of life, if every living thing would be accepted as a soul of its own. Them clinging onto their “special” emotions and feelings, like an extra in a stage play who tries to convince the director that he infact should play the part of an entire mob, not wanting to disappear in a crowd on stage upon opening night.

‘There's a birthday party at the home of Farmer Gray. It'll be the perfect ending of a perfect day. We'll be singing the songs we love to sing without a single stop, at the fireplace while we watch the chestnuts - pop; Pop! Pop! Pop!’

It’s a stupid thing though, worrying about philosophers who dare not accept love as more than their own precious crown jewel, representing their standing above the masses of “lesser beings”, especially like in a place like this. Equestria, a country founded on love and harmony and working together for the benefit of all. Colt Smith for one, knew better than most that Equestria’s foundations are fragile, but it never crumbled. Not anymore. And even if it did, even if the foundation was unstable, it was a foundation worth laying out.

It would have been a good feeling, a proud feeling to be born of this land - if not by blood, in spirit - for anyone, anypony, anything at all. A feeling with great love. But, it still is just an ambiguous idea that Equestria stands for and it hardly represents it without fail either. It’s less easy to fall in love with a country, than it is to fall in love with something a little more...

For a few seconds, only a single voice and a whistle followed the melody of the music, the other voice - Colt Smith’s voice - being lost in a thoughtful silence, before recovering. ‘-around the coffee and the pumpkin pie. It'll nearly be like a picture print by Currier and Ives! These wonderful things are the things we remember all through our lives!’ he finished the verse, but couldn’t shake the distaste gathering in his mind, so stepped over to the record player and stopped it, also halting the whistling noise.

“Not to say you’re anything like the greats, but you’re getting pretty good at singing. May as well try into that if you won’t drag anymore on The Doctor.” said a voice, but Colt Smith just ignored it and moved on to awkwardly comb his hair. It was a big day. It wasn’t a big day to Colt Smith in particular, but it was a big day for a number of other ponies across Equestria. Truthfully, Colt Smith had far enough of “big days” a long time ago, but when everypony is “graciously invited” to the Town Hall, it would only be rude not to attend.

It’s been a few weeks since winter was wrapped-up, the song he played just now too, was mostly just out of sentiment. He actually had an odd sort of regret for not actually riding a sleigh through the winter, but he didn’t really even think of it until the song itself and it was a strange thing for a grown stallion to regret something so generic. Still, he never once in his life rode a sleigh. There’s been so many things that he wished he would do and even been meaning to do, yet an invisible clock hanged ever over his head and as it ticked on, instead of urging him to do as he pleases, it urged him to be patient. It wasn’t a feeling he could easily share with anypony, it wasn’t even a feeling he himself could completely understand, but it was important.

Colt Smith sat down on his comfortable couch in his study, gazing up at the old, wooden timepiece counting at ten-forty in the morning. The town meeting would be in another hour and twenty minutes and then today’s book club meeting in another hour. Of course, Twilight will see Applejack off and the train to Canterlot leaves at forty five past, so no doubt she’d be a bit late. Sometimes, Smith had to admit to himself that it felt like he’s just too prepared for everything, something he wished to avoid since he settled down, but he just couldn’t. It was part of his nature, exactly as it wasn’t the nature of The Doctor. Just sometimes, he wished he’d be caught completely off guard by something, but he knew for a fact that things were fine just the way they were, even and especially when it seemed like they weren’t. That was the order of things in Equestria, even if nopony else had the means to realize that. That was the reason for the Elements of Harmony and that was the reason for Princess T-. For Tia. Besides, the one time he was really surprised, was when “Oakleaf” showed up, and that lead to Trixie’s re-appearance. If that’s not a sign that surprises are bad omens, Smith didn’t know what is. Even the minor act of anarchy which he exhibited when singing up with the town’s new book club all those months ago felt to him as if he’s just taunting the invisible powers that be to topple over everything that was- and will have been meant to be. Even as a writer of time travel tales he could never be bothered to figure out those more complicated tenses.

A sharp whistle from his kitchen signalled that the water for his tea was ready and just in time before his mind would head down another uncomfortable and uncontrollable path that he’d rather avoid. After a quick cup and a piece of bread with zap apple jam, his mind was once again under his control, reluctant to venture off into places he hoped it didn’t.

Nevertheless, his mind still raced around quite a lot as he began his curvy stroll across Ponyville, aiming towards the Town Hall. It’s been a long winter, with many happenings, but yet he barely remembered anything of it. Anything, aside from the long, yet too short sessions of the Book Club. He barely spoke during the meetings, unless asked by somepony in attendance. Honestly, he was afraid he may let loose a not too well thought through comment on the books in discussion, or perhaps dismiss a good lot of them just as they were: Glorified pulp fiction. He didn’t wish to insult anypony there. While this careful attitude made the meetings uncomfortable and it would have been an exaggeration to say he enjoyed his time there - in the conventional understanding of the word in any case - he never regretted attending.

He found a strange sort of engagement, just watching everypony else as they talk about their favourite books and stories, trying to sum up their emotions in words and as their faces light up on the mention of certain topics. Anyone of course could make the claim that he’s naturally attuned to watch for this and be interested in it, he is a writer after all; yet there was more to it than just that. There was a strange envy he felt for everypony in there.

“Books and stories are for those without a life to be concerned with.” he remembered someone saying from such a long time ago, it was an entirely different life to him. Still, in a strange way, it rang true these days, but in the opposite as its original meaning. If love is everything good in life, then being able to enjoy books, become one with their characters - however unoriginal - and take heart in the adventure, the romance, or even the tragedy, does all that not amount to a richer life? Perhaps a life not the reader’s own, but what would that matter? These members of the club were blessed, whether or not they realized. They had lives with space or control enough, to allow them to partake in lives shared with others. As strange or inappropriate it may sound, in a way they were partaking enmass in a love affair made possible through their stories and by Twilight Sparkle.

The closest in fact, that he came to truly enjoying himself was not watching the ponies attending, or at least, not in plural. He rarely allowed himself to stare at Miss Sparkle, but there was just something so blissful about the way that she related to the presence of everypony else. She didn’t shine up with every realization that others enjoyed their time there, instead, she just sat there, looking, watching. She was so busy in her mind, obviously thinking on how to make the meeting more interesting every moment, what to bring up, what to mention. She was so dedicated to make others happy, and yet it seemed she didn’t even if her mind failed to actualize it. Still, she knew in a part of herself that she succeeded. Smith could tell. From the sweet, little, unconscious smile hiding on her cheek, the wide-opened, carefully watchful, yet engaged eyes. She was the perfect host but dared not realize it. That was what made her who she was. That was what kept Colt Smith going.

As Smith wondered, a couple of pegasi flew over his head pushing a large bundle of clouds together. They weren’t on the weather team, but it wasn’t a surprise for Colt Smith, today would have went very different if they were. Ponyville’s weather team - along with the weather teams of all other towns near Canterlot - were called away for the past few days by Celestia, for a suddenly surfaced event she needed weather control for. Most of the team Smith had seen return last evening, but all of them were exhausted and they took this day off. Naturally, every day when the weather itself is controlled by inexperienced hooves is one step closer to disaster, but Colt Smith was confident that nothing unexpected will happen. If it does or perhaps even happens ‘less’; well, that’s probably bad news.

As if on cue, a deep and powerful thunder broke the tranquil humming of early Ponyville commerce in the streets, followed by a less loud but audible crackling of wood, coming from Town Hall a few blocks down.

The few ponies around him exchanged a couple of concerned looks and words, some heading down towards Town Hall at various paces ranging from walk to gallop. Colt Smith simply continued down his pre-planned path, taking no other note of it than a small, internal nod.

‘Now careful, Derpy!’ came from the scornful and newly singed pegasus hovering by the Town Hall building. Rainbow Dash didn’t seem all that pleased with the grey mailmare who stood atop a dark storm cloud and had unwittingly released a bolt of lightning at her. It wasn’t Miss Doo’s fault of course, but that didn’t mean that her earlier mistake of accidentally releasing the same cloud’s fury upon the Town Hall - effectively causing a quarter of the structure to collapse - was any less of a disaster.

‘I just don’t know what went wrong.’ the gray pony replied in a sweet voice, jumping on the faulty cloud, trying to get it to comply with her. Colt Smith, standing below in the growing town meeting crowd cringed a little, then two arching rods of light leapt out of the disobedient cloud and at its clumsy herder, Leaving Miss Doo even more disoriented.

‘Yeah, it’s a mystery.’ Despite the obvious need for experience hooves, Rainbow look like she was about to run to the other’s rescue any time soon. Perhaps touching a cloud on her day off would have been a form of giving up to her, instead just finishing up on the Rodeo banner she was helping to hang up on the partially destroyed Town Hall.

Giving up on the misbehaving cloud, Miss Doo tried to take herself out of her uncomfortable situation by flying down to the other pegasus and complimenting her work. Smith got an itch on the back of his neck, then the still in-flight mailmare crashed into a structural pylon backwards. In the next few moments, the pylon started an unpreferable journey downwards and Rainbow Dash attempted to do right by her reputation by catching it, before crashing through the ground along with it.

A few gasped around Colt Smith, but he just kept examining the scene. Naturally, a few moments later the more colourful of the two pegasi flew out of the hole unleashing a desperate, verging on enraged command at the gray pegasus to do nothing. A moment later, there were two holes in the porch of the Town Hall. Colt Smith just allowed himself an acknowledging smirk at the ridiculous series of events and moved on to joining in on the “Applejack! Applejack” chant that started in the crowd once it was obvious that the pegasi are alright and someone spotted the mare of the day approach.

The Mayor of course gave one of her famous, pre-written speeches to celebrate the send off of the orange pony to Canterlot where she’ll be taking part in the Rodeo and from where she - as the Mayor emphasized - she promised to bring back enough winnings to save the Town Hall. A very early promise of course, but given that the Hall needed a restoration since Smith moved here, and now it did even more: understandable.

Colt Smith couldn’t care less about the Mayor’s speech, and the Rodeo didn’t have him all that excited or in the “team spirit” either. He had a feeling that he already sat through this whole overall pointless ceremony, and the fact that the Mayor had a way with saying everything in a way as if she’s just constantly repeating last week’s speech, didn’t help. Then again, Colt Smith wasn’t here for the speech, or to see Applejack off. Not even to give her his best wishes, since he knew how much good that could possibly do to her chances of winning the Rodeo. Not a whole lot.

The reason why he actually was here didn’t really accomplish a whole lot either, but for him it was important. This was a big day, and what’s more, in a week’s time Rodeo winnings here or there, they’ll have to start renovating this old building. There’s no reason that with all the small shrapnels and rubble left from the accident he couldn’t take a small souvenir as memorabilia.

He waited for the crowd to dissipate, scouting the area of the two holes in the Town Hall’s porch for the right piece of wood and when everypony was gone, he trotted up there and picked up a charming little sharpnel.

“Perfect time to remember that I didn’t bring a satchel.” he thought to himself as he held it in his mouth. It would be an intriguing conversation to have with a doctor, about how he got splinters in his tongue. One of those odd little uplifting smiles snuk onto his face imagining the scenario and contemplating how ridiculous he really is just scavenging the Town Hall right now, but before he could turn around and head home with his little trophy, a voice entered his ear.

It was a very quiet noise, a very pathetic noise. It came from below him and from below the heart of whomever made it, from a sunken little painful place Colt Smith wished he didn’t recognize. For a moment he had no idea who it could be, but for only a moment.

He never saw her fly out of there did he? Miss Doo fell into one of the holes a second time while performing an odd cheer earlier, but she never flew out.

He really shouldn’t intrude. It’s not his place. Though, it’s strange. He didn’t expect her to sound like that. Somehow the mare and the weak or muffled sobbing just did not combine well in his mind.

He definitely should just go.

But he heard it again, ever so faintly, ever so short, like an old, distant light house’s flash through very thick fog.

She could be hurt, maybe she can’t fly out.

Colt Smith just closed his eyes, sighed and then, with every smallest piece of himself hating the fact that he’s just about to do exactly what The Doctor would, spat out the wooden shrapnel into a small pile of similar pieces and turned back towards the holes.

‘Hello? Is anypony down there?’ he called out, peeking downwards. What a ridiculous notion really. He knew perfectly well that somepony was down there, was almost sure who it is too. What on Earth could drive everyone to always try and use this tired old icebreaker?

No response came at first, though Smith was sure he heard something move, as well as a quick, faint breath. The second time around when he called down however, the gray pegasus stepped out from behind a support beam, smiling at him.

‘Oh, hi Mr. Smith.’ she said in a light but slightly broken tone. She opened her mouth as if she wanted to continue but then just closed it, one of her ears flickering anxiously.

There was something very off setting about the way the mare acted, the seemingly merry yet distraught behaviour she was putting off, following the sobbing noises that he had no doubt belonged to her now nonetheless. Whatever her reason could’ve been to act like this, Smith felt like the best thing to do is just to play along.

‘Ah, Miss Doo! I wasn’t aware anypony was still about. Are you quite alright down there?’

‘Uh, I’m very well.’ she replied hesitantly, though the smile never left her face. Smith noticed that he ear’s still fluttering and she was picking at the ground. Even as she spoke to him, her eyes were set somewhere near but not quite on Smith - well, her eye which was looking towards him anyway, like she didn’t want to look at him.

‘I see. It is just that I saw you fall down backwards and...’ Smith couldn’t help but feel like this whole conversation was completely ridiculous. He wasn’t much of a fun of all this beating around the bush, and if there was a problem, it wasn’t going to do anything to help it. ‘Look, Miss Doo. I’m sorry but I’ve heard you sob.’ The mare’s good eye snapped onto him and just barely visible, but she pulled her neck back when he said it. ‘I know it’s probably not my place to ask, but may I help? Are you hurt?’

‘No!’ she said quickly, the smile flickering. ‘I was just- I-’ she started but her voice broke and a sob came through. ‘I’ll be fine. Thank you, goodbye.’ With that, she turned around and walked back behind the beam, out of Smith’s sight.

This was entirely unlike the mare Smith knew, or rather who he believed her to be. At this point it was no matter how harshly he felt that he should just let her be as she seems to want it, he had to get to her. Maybe he could help, or maybe he couldn’t. It wasn’t really that which made him want to her. He wasn’t the best one to help anypony really, never did have any luck with that. He was of course curious too, he had to know what could drive the sweet mailmare to act like that, but it wasn’t curiosity either that drove him. It was that familiar and hated stench of necessity. He was supposed to try and help the mare despite her objection. It just was “the way”. The Doctor’s way. The way of the self proclaimed hero who seeks a calm conscience for himself. Sadly, it was also the one way he knew which was justifiable.

Looking down, he saw that the large wooden beam which broke through the porch’s floor boards stood rather solidly and at an almost comfortable angle he could easily slide down on.

After a few quick, agile moves he was below the absurdly high built porch, which felt strangely dusty for a more-or-less sealed off place like this, not to mention the wooden floor; could have been an old decommissioned cellar once.

‘Y-You came down?’ sounded from around the beam where the mare disappeared a few seconds ago.

‘I know, I just couldn’t help but think you needed some help.’

‘I-I’m fine.’ Miss Doo stuttered, then looked out from behind the beam, her expression growing grimmer instantly. ‘Ah, but-! Now you’re trapped down here too. Because of me.’

‘I wouldn’t worry about it.’ Smith shook his head, stepping closer to the mare carefully. He didn’t try to smile at the mare, he had a feeling that she wasn’t going to feel any better from that. Instead, he tried to seem as idly certain as he could. ‘I may not look the part, but I’ve had my experience with being stuck in places and that beam’s more than enough to get out for me. However, if I may, I sense that it wouldn’t be as easy for you.’

The mare shunned her wings back, as if attempting to hide them, though of course that was rather impossible.

‘Well, I couldn’t climb out, but I-I could just fly, so I’m fine.’

‘Could you?’ Smith asked pressing down the point.

The mare just stood there for a moment, not knowing what to reply. Her face was stuck in a concerned expression. In the dark, it would have been hard to see her eyes precisely, but even though the damp air of the old cellar, his calm breaths brought in the faint smell of tears.

‘I-I hurt my wing... Just a little! It’s really fine.’ she admitted finally, lowering her wings to their standard position by her sides. ‘It’ll be alright in a while. It should be.’

‘I know I’m not a- doctor of any sort, but could I take a look at that wing?’

The mare fell in a bit of silence once more, then instead of replying, she just sat down, turned her head at the floor and slowly stretched her right wing out.

Smith walked over to the surrendered pegasus and took a careful look at the damaged wing. There was a small but prominent bump next to where it joined her torso and seemed to pulsate slowly. Smith could only imagine how painful it could be and was both impressed as how the mare could keep the pain at bay, and sorry for her. It took a special kind of life to be able to do this. How could have the sweet mailmare had such? She didn’t seem wanting to share.

‘Well, I’ve seen worse, but I wouldn’t hold my breath until it heals itself.’ he said, respectfully not noting or questioning how she can ignore the obviously painful injury. ‘It would be for the best if you’d go to the clinic immediately.’

‘But I can’t.’ she noted quietly, not lifting her head, just pulling the wing back.

‘I know.’ Smith replied in a similar tone, allowing for a bit of silence to come.

He sat down by the mare, looking forward as opposed to at her, but his eyes scouted what was visible of her face. A single teardrop fell from her closed eye and left a wet mark on the wood. After this, she made a quick movement with her right wing, which ended midway with a painful hiss even she couldn’t hold back. She returned the wing to its resting place and moved her left instead to wipe her face slower, either because of the newfound pain or because she gave up on passing the motion unnoticed.

‘I don’t think I could carry another pony up that beam, but-’ Smith started and stood up. ‘I could go up and get a pegasus or two, maybe a unicorn to help get you up from here?’

‘No!’ the mare said decisively, then turning calm again. ‘Everypony’s busy, they should be allowed to go on with their day.’

‘What? You don’t want to get out of here?’

‘Not if- No.’

Smith didn’t know what to make of this. ‘So you’re perfectly content just sitting here until judgement day?’

‘What day?’

‘-Sitting here until the end of days?’

‘Yes.’

‘You can’t be serious.’ Smith just shook his head.

‘I am!’ the mare started to sound angry, but she still didn’t look up at him. Whoever or whatever she was mad at, it wasn’t him.

‘Is there somepony you want to get away from? Was it Rainbow Dash, because I’m sure she didn’t me-’

‘I want to get away from me!’ she yelled finally. ‘I don’t deserve anypony’s help. I just wrecked the Town Hall! Applejack will have to give up her prize to fix what I did and Mayor Mare probably won’t want to see me again, possibly along with my family. I’m just a useless,derping, retard.’

This one line had hit Smith like the front line of a stampede. It wasn’t just the sweet and merry mailmare describing herself like that, no. Rather - though he knew the last word - he didn’t recall hearing it a single time since he was in Equestria. He passed over the slight paradox of the word not being used and yet being known and instead as soon as his wits were about him once more, he replied to the tearful mare.

‘That has to be the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard!’ he said to the mare. She seemed shaking a bit - as well as such things could be determined in the dimly lit room - but it felt like she would just refuse to openly cry. ‘I won’t pretend to know everything about you, but I know this: You’re not any of that.Granted, perhaps you’re a little clumsy but that has just about as much to do with you, as not being able to hold a pen properly has to do with me.’

The mare wouldn’t reply. A half movement of her right front hoof suggested she planned to just turn around and maybe walk away, but either because there wasn’t where to walk to, or because she felt it rude, she didn’t and just stood there, hanging her head and staring at the dust. Finally she whispered back: ‘I still ruin everything.’

‘Why? Because of the Town Hall? Believe me, this building was meant to break down, if not you then somepony else. The state it was in, a harsher rainfall would have done the job.’

There was no reply for a while once more, Smith just waited paitently as he wasn’t sure what else to do. After a small, wet black spot suddenly appeared in the dust of the floor under the mare’s face, an answer finally came, in a broken tone as if she’d already regret saying it while she does. ‘Name a single pony I do any good for.’

No good answer existed for that Smith didn’t know enough of her to give a decent answer, or what he did, didn’t exactly apply here. It was a stupid question really, half the world could ask the same question and end up with a generously patronizing answer at best. As fancy as it sounded that only a life given to others is a worthy life, the world didn’t exactly work that way, most ponies just trying to have fun and enjoy each other's company. He couldn’t say that though, even if it was a bad question to ask, it was obviously an important one for her.

‘Come, let’s find a way out of here.’ he said finally, looking around.

She was still in silence, but Smith didn’t mind, in his head he was already considering the possibilities. It still seemed most likely that where they are is an abandoned cellar, and he had yet to see a cellar without an entrance, so it was just up to finding it.

Taking several steps towards a rounded, concave wall in the direction of the Town Hall’s heart, a small part of the wall which stood apart from the rest became slightly visible. It wasn’t easy to make out, but as it was a comfortably large rectangle, it seemed obvious that it was a door, except it was missing the knob. He did what seemed obvious: He knocked.

Though no answer came, the mare finally looked up and asked: ‘What are you doing?’

‘I think I found the exit.’ Smith said simply.

‘I thought there were no exits.’

‘Well, technically that’s true. From the sound of it, this is covered from the other side but probably by no more than a couple thin planks and some wallpaper to fit the other side of the wall.’

‘You’re... Not going to break it down, are you?’

‘I’ll pay the repairs.’ noted Smith taking another look at the wall and trying to find a good distance to stand. ‘If there’s anypony on the other side of this door, or wall or whatever: I recommend you move back!’

With that, Colt Smith turned his back on the door, planted his front hooves sturdily on the floor and then bucked against the door with all his might. Something cracked and the door moved two full inches away before the laws of physics had a chance to step in and the door tipped over as light entered the empty cellar.

‘Are you alright?’ the mare asked concerned but Smith just stretched and smiled.

‘Nothing new.’ he said. ‘As strange and inappropriate as that probably sounded.’

Stepping through the newly opened doorway, Smith was in what looked like the document vault of the building, large sliding shelved boxes all around.

‘I may have to pay for wallpaper change too.’ he added after taking a look around. ‘This room is ugly.’ His attempts at lightening the mood going without response, he changed the subject. ‘Come now, you really should see a doctor.’

Miss Doo walked over to the new doorway but stopped before crossing through, with an expression Smith just didn’t know how to put to words.

‘Look,’ he started. ‘I’ve seen you most every morning for the past three years as you delivered the mail. I barely know anything about you but I know that smile you’ve always wore in every morning. Nopony can smile like that without something that is truly worth being happy for. I doubt whatever it is to just go away because you made a mistake, so just think of whatever or whoever it is that one special thing is.’

The mare looked up at him, then wiped her face again with her left wing. She didn’t really say anything, but seemed calmer, and that made Smith glad.

Walking upstairs, they came across a secretary who gave them both a very strange look, she probably heard the door being broken down earlier but didn’t say anything. Smith stayed back for a moment to give her a quick note about the damage and that he’ll be back about that. Wasn’t entirely sure if he did it for the sake of it being the right thing, or to reassure the gray pegasus that everything’s alright.

In direct daylight, he could see that the strained wing was worse than it looked in the dark, and driven by an almost automatic sense offered to guide her to the Ponyville Hospital, claiming that he had nothing better to do anyway. Technically that was a lie, given the bookclub, but that could wait. Considering, it was a stupid lie to make since this was the very mare who delivered him his clearly signed bookclub newsletter every week, but she didn’t make any note of that.

If only he knew why the mare was so different then, part of him had to know. Of course however, he couldn’t and shouldn’t. It was none of his business, but still.

Arriving at the hospital, he bid farewell then after noting to himself that he’s already ten minutes late from the meeting across town, stepped into a faster pace back the way he came. Before he could make it more than a couple of steps away from the gate when some called out.

‘Um, Mister! Uh... Smith?’ came from a rather skinny looking beige stallion in post uniform, a mostly empty bag and a stamp cutie mark to go with it. ‘I’m not sure if that’s the right name, I don’t work in your area usually. My name is uh Post Haste.’ the young looking stallion was oddly nervous.

‘Uh, yes I’m Smith. Colt Smith, is there something I can do for you?’

‘Well, I just saw you with Dinky, I mean my colleague just now and she looked hurt. Thought I’d ask if you knew if it was serious.’

‘Oh! Well, it wasn’t anything too bad I suppose, but I’m sure she’s still in the lobby so you could just ta-’

‘No, no, no.’ the stallion shook his head. ‘She doesn’t really like to be in the center of attention. She’s like that. I was just concerned, that’s all.’

‘I see, I hope I didn’t disturb her then with my presence.’ Smith carried on. Concern for the mare here or there, the stallion still seemed very nervous for something like this, so on slight hunch, he probed a question. ‘Well, I’ll be going but since you mentioned you’re not in my area, I wonder if you may know a friend of mine, Sunny Gleam?’

‘I don’t know anypony by that name sir.’ he replied, but Smith wasn’t surprised. He made the name up just then. ‘I work between Old Park Avenue and Bonnie Street.’

Smith couldn’t help as a coy smile came on his face for a moment. As he suspected, the closest the zone described by the post stallion could be to the hospital, would be about ten rows of houses off. Something else occurred to him about the colt as well, but he just bid him farewell and hurried on towards the library, without wishing him inexplicably an early birthday.

Smith’s day aside from being slightly late from the club for the first time, went according to plan. He’d silently sit and try to enjoy the discussion the others had on surprisingly good book which was chosen for the week. Inój Myslitel's - an old, eastern immigrant - “Foundation”. Smith could have gone on for hours about the fictional science of Psychohistory as showcased in the book, but not having actually read it, trying would have surely ended awkwardly. Besides, it was more engaging to see others think their way around it. Science Fiction being his home ground as well, the others attempted to get a few comments out of him but Smith did his best not to take the center of attention and just admitted the truth: The story belonged to a whole different sphere of science fiction from where his stories resided.

Something was off though and it stopped him from paying even as much attention as before. Equestria wasn’t a perfect place, far from it but it didn’t need to be. Life would probably have been awfully dull in a perfect world, as places to live go, Equestria still was far ahead of almost any other place Colt Smith knew of or saw for himself. To see somepony as merry and joyful on the outside go so bitter and hurt, in almost an instant. It felt like someone broke a light bulb in his head, and his eyes didn’t yet adapt to the dark, leaving him wondering if the shadows shall hide the same, beautifully idyllic world they did before, or if there are demons there, finally creeping out in the dark.

He’d look at Twilight as he always does, relaxed and content for a moment, as he saw her to be the same as always, but among his present thoughts, even this could not introduce peace.

He went home autonomously, independent of conscious decisions. Across the front door, into the kitchen, drink a glass of water, read the rest of today’s paper, into his study, close his eyes. As oh so very often.

While performing his usual return-home-routine, he mumbled a bit ‘Porter - Still of the...4’ and as he finished, he stood in his usual spot in the middle of the room as the music started playing.

‘In the still of the night, as I gaze from my window.’ Smith’s voice resonated in unison with another’s, his eyes closed and mind far away.

Perhaps things like that with Miss Doo should be expected as well as just simply accepted. Life is life, wherever it may be...

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Colt Smith’s eye open wide in sudden surprise. He didn’t have visitors in a long time.

‘Stop’ he mumbles again, stopping the music and trotting going to the door quickly. He isn’t sure why he’s is such a hurry either, but his heart seems to beat faster for some reason. ‘Yes?’ he says opening the door, and before him the door reveals Twilight Sparkle.

‘Uh, hi! I’m not interrupting anything?’ Twilight asks almost instantly, looking at the jumpy stallion concerned.

‘Not- Not really.’ he replies, trying to process why on Earth the unicorn would want to come to him today. A few stray thoughts fly through his head, but he hushes them off quickly. ‘What can I do for you?’

‘Well, I just saw that- This maybe dumb, but I noticed that you were very upset today and was wondering if it was something about the meeting.’

Smith’s eyes and eyebrow took control over themselves to create some strange expression no one could decipher, while Smith himself was trying to make sense of what the librarian just said.

‘Why would I be upset about the meeting?’ he asked first, but then quickly corrected: ‘I wasn’t upset.’

‘Ah, I’m sorry, it just really seemed that way.’ Twilight noted in an apologetic tone, though it seemed like she didn’t believe it. ‘I guess I just thought because of how you didn’t seem that interested, though I thought you’d love this book.’

‘Foundation? Oh, I do! Fantastic wr-’ Smith started, but quickly stopped.

‘Oh, so you have read it?’ Twilight asked, her eyes lighting up intrigued as she smiled.

‘Um, I-’ Smith wasn’t sure what to reply to this, so he said the first thing that came to his head. ‘Actually, I’ve only read a review of it.’ he paused, feeling guilty as the light dimmed in Twilight’s eyes. ‘A very detailed one.’

‘Okay.’ she nodded. ‘Just thought that if you didn’t like it for some reason, I could ask why, so I know what books to recommend later on. But I suppose if it wasn’t...’ Twilight paused and an awkward silence fell. Smith realized that he should have asked her inside a couple exchanges ago, but felt anxious about the idea, not to mention it late now.

‘WouldAreyouyoulikesuretothat-’ they said, talking over eachother.

‘Excuse me, go ahead.’ Smith said quickly.

‘I just, uh wanted to ask again if everything was really alright.’ Twilight admitted after momentary hesitation.

‘I- Truth is, I saw Miss Doo earlier.’ Smith said, giving up.

‘Dinky?’

‘Yes, she seemed... Very shaken up about the damage she caused. I told her of course that the Town Hall was in bad condition anyway, but it seemed she was blaming herself very harshly.’

‘Well,’ Twilight started in a very neutral tone, obviously unsure if she should be compassionate about this or treat it like ordinary news. ‘I can see why she would.’

‘You didn’t see what she was like, I think this meant more to her than just that.’ Smith replied calmly. He wanted to look into her eyes and try to show her that way, but his eyes snapped away from the unicorn’s eyes. ‘It’s nothing, I was just concerned for her. Um, be kind to her if you see her.’

‘Alright.’ Twilight nodded, giving a somewhat week but earnest supportive smile to him, which felt good somehow. ‘I will. Farewell Mr. Smith.’

‘Good bye, Miss Sparkle.’ he said and as the unicorn turned away, started to close the door.

‘Oh, and one more thing!’ Twilight said turning back.

‘Yes?’

‘Sorry if I intruded, but that was a very nice song and I thought you sang it beautifully.’ As she said that, Colt Smith’s face started to feel awfully hot. He wasn’t one to lose control on his sense, but then again, if it would happen at any time, this would be it. ‘I was wondering, since I was going to introduce a few poems- uh...’ she continued, however probably saw the way he reacted and changed her mind. ‘Nevermind. Good day!’ she said with a final smile and walked off in a faster pace.

Smith took a few seconds before closing the door then blew into the air. As per usual, he put on his calm and controlled posture, walked back to his study and sat the music to continue where he left off.

His shoulders melted as the melody once more washed over him. He closed his eyes and sang along with the aged voice.

‘Do you love me, as I love you? Are you my life to be, my dream come true? Or will this dream of mine fade out of sight, like the moon growing dim; on the rim of the hill; in the chill, still, of the night’ he finished. His neck felt stiff, wanting to bow, but he just took a deep breath and chose another song as the final notes’ echoes faded.