Time

21 Hours

Dust exploded into the air as the top of the cardboard box was opened. Alarmed, he pulled his head back quickly, but it was too late. He had already gotten a lungful of dust. Coughing, he waved a wing in front of his face to try and clear the air around him. This just succeeded in stirring up the dust more. Scowling, he was forced to hold his breath and wait for the dust to settle again before continuing with his work. Not too long of a wait, however, as time was of the essence.

Leaning forward, he peeked carefully into the box, his amber eyes narrowing as he tried to see through the gloom. He pulled the box closer to him, the contents shifting around and clinking together. His horn lit up, casting a dim, golden light around the small storage room, and he pulled one of the objects out of the box. It was a long bone which narrowed to a point at one end. A spiraling recess ran up the length of the bone, running from base to tip. Bringing the bone up to his face, he studied it closely, turning and spinning it in his magic in order to examine it from all angles. He could sense the faint latent magic within the bone; the sensation made his own horn itch.

Eyeing the bone for a few more seconds, he suddenly scrunched up his face before tossing the bone over his shoulder. It clattered loudly against the floor as it rolled away into the gloom. It had been too short. He needed something longer.

Once again, he reached into the box with his magic and pulled out another bone. This one was longer than the first, but it had several chips and cracks along its length. That wouldn't do, so over the shoulder it went where it joined the first one.

He continued to search through the box, tossing more bones over his shoulder as he went. Too short, too long, too fat, too stubby, too damaged, too crooked. None of them seemed to be even close to what he needed. Growing frustrated, he began to pull several different ones out at a time, examining them quickly before tossing them into the gloom. None of them felt right; none of them felt perfect.

Before long, the box was empty. With a growl, he lit up his horn and tossed the empty box into a corner of the room, where a bunch of other empty boxes already resided, before pulling a second box out of the closet. He ripped it open and—ignoring the cloud of dust—began to search through that one as well with the same results. Still, he searched dutifully on through that box, and the next one, and the next one.

Hundreds of bones of various sizes littered the floor as he neared the bottom of the fifth box. He had long since given up on using his magic, instead digging a hoof in to the box to select a bone at random. Pulling one out, a smile started to grow on his face, but quickly vanished, replaced instead by a scowl. It was the proper size, but the magic in it felt wrong, tainted. With a grunt, he tossed it over his shoulder and onto the growing pile. As it bounced off the pile, reddish-purple sparks erupted from the tip of the bone, followed by a cloud of green smoke. Tainted indeed.

Pausing with his search, he glanced nervously over at the desk and the glowing hourglass.

Time was running out.

Desperately, he plunged his hoof back into the box, only to freeze as he brushed up against one of the bones within. A small electrical surge ran up his leg, causing his entire body to shiver. With his heart hammering loudly within his chest, he quickly pulled the bone out and held it in front of his face, examining it closely, meticulously. The size was perfect: not too long, not too fat. He ran a hoof over it. The helix was evenly spaced across the length, spiraling beautifully along the bone. He ran the frog of his hoof over the tip. It was curved nicely, no jagged or pointed edges. No cracks or chips. Hope rising in his chest, he lit up his horn and bathed the bone in his magical aura. A large smile spread across his muzzle as he felt the latent magic within. It was pure, untainted.

It was just what he had been searching for.

He stood up quickly, wincing as blood began to flow back into his limbs. They tingled, the numb feeling replaced with the feeling of pins and needles. He staggered over to the desk, trying to ignore the uncomfortable sensation in his legs as he clutched the bone close to his chest. Pushing aside books and papers, he used his wings to clear off the layer of dust before placing the bone on the desk. It sat there, tinted a faint red in the glow of the hourglass.

After making sure the bone wasn't going to roll off of the desk, he turned his attention back to the boxes. Pushing aside the empty ones, he forced his way back into the small storage room from which he had retrieved them. Shelves of cardboard boxes of varying sizes lined the wall of the room, which was more akin to a closet than a room.

Ignoring the boxes of bones on the lower shelves, he turned his attention to the upper shelves. Lighting up his horn, he pulled several boxes off their shelves and carried them out into the main room. Dust filled the air as he opened one of the boxes and peeked inside. Like the boxes before, these ones were filled with bones as well. Unlike the last boxes, several of the bones were attached to one another.

With a frown, he began to sort through the bones, searching. His horn lit up and a group of bones lifted themselves out of the box, clinking together softly. They levitated over to him, and he spread one of his wings wide before holding the bones up to the wing, measuring them. The ends of the bones dangled several inches below the tips of his feathers. It was too long.

With a snort, his eyes narrowed and he tossed the bones over his shoulder before digging back into the box.