Time

5 Minutes

Time was almost up.

Propping her body carefully against the far wall of the workshop, he sat down beside her, utterly defeated. Across the room, glowing softly on the desk, he could see the last few minutes of sand slowly slipping through the hourglass. With a heavy sigh, he closed his eyes and rested his throbbing head against the wall. His horn was still sparking and smoking slightly, his magic reserves empty. He had nothing more to give, nothing more he could do.

He had failed.

Slowly, he lifted his foreleg and stared at the burnt fur on it: a souvenir from his expedition into town. The burn wasn't bad; he certainly felt no pain, but the gray fur on his leg had become blackened and charred, with several places burned off completely to reveal the tender flesh beneath. There was a similar burn on his flank that he noticed, now that he had a moment to rest. He was tired, his limbs ached, and his wing hung uselessly at his side. All of these injuries he had received over the course of the day, trying to complete a project he couldn't even finish now.

He cast a sideways glance at his companion. She just sat there, head slumped forward with her back against the wall. He was dimly aware of her shoulder pressing lightly against his, the feeling of her fur on his calming him somewhat.

After staring at her for a few seconds, a weak smile touched his lips. In the end, all the trouble he had gone through was worth it, if only to have someone else here with him as time slowly ran out. Sighing again, he leaned over and rested his head on her shoulders. He closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of not being alone anymore, even if it was just an illusion.

He remained that way for a few moments before cracking an eye open and glancing at the hourglass. Just a few minutes remained before it was over. Snorting, he pushed himself off of the wall and stood up, grunting softly as he struggled to get his bad leg beneath him. He ruffled his one good wing, working the kinks out of it, before stretching. His back cracked several times, and he groaned in discomfort. Several feathers fell from his wings and fluttered to the floor.

He turned and, placing a hoof beneath her chin, lifted the mare's head slightly. Her mane fell away from her face, a few loose strands remaining to cover her forehead. He gazed down at her, taking in every detail he could in the dim lighting of the room. He may have made her, but he wanted one last look. Her lavender coat, her horn, her violet mane. He took in everything, trying to cement it to memory. With that complete, he leaned forward and bumped muzzles with her. Her nose was cold, and it caused a small shiver to run down his back. He didn't pull away, though. Doggedly, he remained that way for several seconds, his nose pressed against hers, nostrils flaring as he breathed softly.

The connection was broken as he leaned his head back.

The mare remained motionless.

The sand continued to flow.

With a dejected sigh, he took several steps backwards and was about to turn around when a faint movement caught his attention. Ears perking slightly, he glanced back at the mare and cocked his head to the side. She remained as still as before, but he waited with bated breath, watching for any signs of life. Several more seconds passed where nothing happened, before...

His eyes widened in surprise as the mare's right ear flapped weakly against her head. There was a brief pause before it flicked again, followed by a twitch of the tail. The ear twitched for a third time before her chest suddenly rose as she took a deep, shuddering breath. Her head jerked to the side as she took another breath. Then, with a small gasp, her eyes fluttered open.

He could only stand there, a look of joy slowly spreading across his face as she blinked twice and then glanced around the room before her eyes came to rest on him. They were violet in color, one of them slightly bigger than the other. She squinted—her pupils dilating and expanding—before she gasped again and quickly got to her hooves. Well, it was more of a drunken stagger; her legs trembled beneath her, giving her the appearance of a newborn foal.

When she finally got her legs working, she glanced over at him, eyes filled with wonder and curiosity.

He could only smile, a feeling of relief and unbridled joy welling up in his chest.

She stared blankly at him for a few seconds before she timidly returned the smile, her lips twitching faintly.

He stepped forward slowly, his good wing flaring slightly, allowing her to take in his scent. She shied back as he approached, causing him to pause. Watching him closely, she swallowed before taking a tentative step forward and meeting him halfway.

With a soft nicker, the pair bumped snouts, nostrils flaring as they took in each others scents.

After a few moments, he pulled his nose back, earning him a confused look from the mare; she cocked her head to the side, blinking up at him. Still smiling, he turned and limped over to the desk. He cast a quick glance at the hourglass—the last grains of sand slowly slipping through the neck—before turning his attention to the large book currently splayed open on the desk. Closing it with a soft 'thump', he picked it up in his mouth and carried it over to the mare.

She gave the book a curious glance as he approached, her horn lighting up when he offered it to her. A rosy-red aura surrounded the book, levitating it over to the mare. She looked down at the worn out cover before glancing back up at him, her timid smile still on her face.

He returned the smile and then leaned forward and gave her a gentle nuzzle.

On the other side of the room, the hourglass ran out.

The mare's timid smile quickly turned to confusion, and then to alarm as he began to dissolve, his body turning into dust. A sudden breeze began to blow around the room, tossing the dust through the air. He had time to give her one last, weak smile before his entire body was consumed, reduced to a cloud of glowing particles. It swirled around the room, slowly picking up speed until it was a veritable whirlwind of glowing dust.

The mare cried out in alarm as all the objects in the room began to move at once. Gems rolled across the floor, gathering together as the broken jars mended themselves. The strips of fabric began to roll themselves back up—the cut pieces fusing back to the main roll—before flying back to their allotted spot on the desk's shelves. Bones flew into their corresponding boxes, feathers fluttered around the room, and teeth clattered together as they sorted themselves back into their containers. Threads spooled themselves, the needle sliding back into the nearby pin cushion. A large chunk of clay morphed and undulated through the air before forming itself back into a square. All the items swirled around the room like debris in a twister before flying back into their original places around the room: gems, teeth, thread, and clay all going back to the shelves, boxes of bones and feathers sliding back into the closet. As soon as it started, the whirlwind halted, and silence fell over the room.

Dust particles floated in the air, gradually resettling after all the chaos that just took place. The mare stood there, wide-eyed and mouth agape. Slowly, she glanced around the reorganized room. Her eyes drifted to the floor, and she eyed the hoof prints in the dust: the only indication that the stallion had ever been there.

Swallowing thickly, she glanced down at the old tome still currently held in her magic.

With a click, the hourglass slowly turned over, and the sand began to flow again.