Time

5 Hours

He stood back, a small smile on his face. His wings ruffled by his side, several feathers falling out and floating to the junk-covered floor. The workshop was a mess, with the floor barely visible beneath a sea of discarded items. It had taken him a while (as well as several attempts to sew up the face), but at long last he had finished. There, seated on the desk in a slumped over position, was his finished masterpiece. It was a pony, a mare slightly smaller than him in stature. Her lavender coat was thin in some places, and her right foreleg was held together by a piece of dark violet fabric. Stitches ran across her body, as well as her face. She had a mane of dark purple hair that curled and twisted around her head and neck. Wings hung limply by her side, one slightly longer than the other, both covered in feathers of various colors.

She sat there, motionless upon the desk with her head slumped forward and eyes closed. The glow of the hourglass showed from behind her head, giving her a hellish halo of blood-red light.

Barely able to contain the joy welling up inside of him, he stood there, smiling at her as his tail flicked back and forth. As the minutes slowly rolled by, joy turned to confusion. Stepping forward, he nudged her chest with a hoof. Nothing happened except for her swaying back and forth. He nudged her again, harder this time, but received the same response: nothing. She just sat there, unresponsive. Placing an ear against her chest, he listened closely, but couldn't pick up any noise. No pulse. Nothing.

Brow crinkling with worry, he turned his attention to the dozens of papers tacked onto the wall. Pulling them from the wall one by one, he scoured their contents for any clues as to what step he had missed. However, none of the information on the pages held any helpful tips. Trying to fight back the growing panic within his chest, he peeked around the mare. He breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing that the upper half of the hourglass still held a decent amount of sand in it.

Sitting back on his haunches, he racked his brain, all while staring at the lifeless mare. Suddenly, his eyes lit up and the smile returned to his face. His horn glowed softly and a golden aura surrounded the mare, lifting her into the air. Taking the utmost care, he maneuvered her until she was draped over his back, her head resting on his shoulder, her cheek pressed against his. After making sure that she was situated and not about to slide of his back, he slowly made his way over to a staircase running up the back wall of the room. Carefully stepping over the piles of debris as to not jostle his passenger, he began to limp his way up the stairs, using his wings to keep the mare in place.

Reaching the top of the stairs, he pushed the door that was located there open, and stepped out into a much larger room. The room was circular, with shelves carved into the wooden surface. Thousands of books filled the shelves, many of them falling apart. A large picture of a sun had been painted on the ceiling, the golden paint chipped and faded. A table in the middle of the room held a large wooden bust of a pony. Dust and cobwebs covered everything, and there appeared to be moss growing around the corners of the ceiling and floor. Several of the dirty windows were cracked, fog wafting lazily in through the open holes.

The muted sound of hooves filled the air as he moved further into the musty room. Glancing back at the mare, he gave his shoulders a little shake, trying to get her to open her eyes. All he succeeded in doing was causing her head to loll back and forth. Frowning, he tried again, adding a bit more bounce to his motion. Again, nothing happened.

Tsking softly, he made his way around the room and up a secondary staircase that ascended into the ceiling. This led to a balcony hallway, with several rooms leading off of it.

He ignored the first door, which had been boarded up tight. From between the wooden boards, he could just barely make out the shape of loft with a bed on it through the gloom. A old wicker basket rested at the foot of the bed, a blanket draped over one end. A dark stain had formed around the basket, and there appeared to be a shapeless lump inside.

The second room was boarded up as well, although with significantly more wood. Rose-colored runes covered the wood, which was chipped and covered in teeth marks, as if something had tried feverishly to get out. From what little he could see of the room, it was completely destroyed, with pieces of furniture strewn everywhere. There was a large mass collapsed in the center of the room, chains hanging off of it. White feathers were scattered across the floor, several of them poking out from beneath the wooden boards.

It was the third room, the one farthest from the stairs, that drew his attention. The door was unbarred, and he pushed it open with his nose. Poking his head inside, he glanced around the bathroom, eyeing it carefully. There was no real damage to the room: a couple of cracks in the wall, as well as one on the toilet. Grime covered the floor, making it slippery. He ignored all that, however, focusing solely on the large tub. Carefully walking over to it, he glanced inside, noting that it was fairly clean. Lighting up his horn, he lifted the mare from his back and placed her gently into the tub, with her head underneath the faucet. With her properly situated, he turned the handle a sliver, causing water to begin to drip down onto her head.

Ignoring the grime, he sat down on the bathroom floor, his bad leg jutting out at an odd angle. He watched the water drip onto her face, before lighting up his horn and creating a small field of magic in the path of the drips. As the water fell through, the magic siphoned out the rust and grime.

The fur between her eyes slowly became matted as the water continued to drip. She didn't stir, her body remaining in a limp heap on the floor of the tub, even as water began to stream down her face. Regardless, he let the water continue to dribble.

He sat there, watching the mare with a small smile on his face as the water continued to leak.

In the basement, the sand continued to fall.