Neither Brass nor Bold

by JohnPerry

Rating: everyone
Tags: Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Original Character
Length: 1271

Shall I speak of our town unnamed?

Shall I speak of our town unnamed?

Dramatic reading by Doom Pie.

Published 2015-04-05 00:20:02 UTC
Last updated 2015-04-05 00:20:02 UTC

Neither Brass nor Bold

Shall I speak
Of our town unnamed?
Where strife and hate
Become so tamed.

This plain town,
Neither brass nor bold,
Unadorned
With glass or gold.

We equal,
Free of the world’s blight.
Here I’ve found
My guiding light.

Reach no more,
No one is above.
We are united
In common love.

Shall I weep
Of woes from my past?
Not here--my dread
Has gone at last.

Here Glimmer,
A pony so wise,
Showed me truth.
Saw through my guise.

Life before
Brought me such pain
Before I found
This town so plain.

She saw hurt
And took me in.
My woes forgotten
Here among kin.

Shall I scream
What good is a life?
When one knows no peace.
When filled with strife.

No honor
Nor friends among thieves.
All effort wasted
When peers deceive.

All was lost,
My work all for naught.
My pleas ignored,
Silence soon taught.

But all that
Is now behind me.
Now I can forgive.
Now I am free.

Shall I sing
Of this town of no name?
Where everypony
Can be the same.

We all here
Freed from desire.
We know no hardship.
Free from mire.

Here no pride
Nor arrogance shall split.
We all are equal.
We all can fit.

We greet all
From wherever you roam.
To those who arrive
I say, “Welcome.”

The stallion put down his quill and looked over his words. No, it didn’t have quite the same flair as his work before he came to this town, but then he was out of practice, he reasoned. Besides, it would do. Excelling was the false virtue of his old life. Here, adequacy was enough.

A shiver of excitement ran down his form. How much had changed in such a short amount of time! It was not so long ago that such a thought as embracing adequacy would have been alien to him. How obsessed he had once been with perfection, with pleasing his superiors and trying to make a name for himself.

Not here. Here his name was only utilitarian in purpose and nothing more was expected of him than anypony else. Here he wasn’t ignored or dismissed, but accepted at face value.

And all it cost him was a silly mark.

He glanced down at the equal sign on his flank and then around his room, at the standard-issue bed and furniture that looked identical to those of everypony else in the village. His peers back in Manehattan would have scoffed at it for being drab and dull, but in fact this room was larger than his Manehattan apartment. His gaze wandered over to the window, at the row of houses across the town’s single street, all equal in standing.

It really was a wonderful place, despite what anypony may have thought of it. It had only been a couple of weeks, but he already felt like he had lived here for years. Yes, it was a little bereft of color and it didn’t have the excitement of the big city, but that was a small price to pay for acceptance.

He looked back at his writings, smiling as he imagined presenting them to Starlight Glimmer tomorrow morning. He was sure she would love hearing his praise. It was the least he could do for her, after the new life she had granted him.

Maybe she would even read his work in front of the whole village. He could now imagine her reciting his words in front of her house, the rest of the village assembled in the street out front wearing their constant grins, nodding in agreement with the words as he stood beside Glimmer, relishing in their attention--

No, that would be wrong. His imaginings quickly dissolved as his eyes snapped open and he felt a dull throb on his flanks. If everyone listened to his words alone, would that not elevate him above the rest of the villagers? Then there would be inequality, and what had been so carefully built here could be threatened.

He looked at his words in a new light. Was that why he had written this? For attention? A sudden dread settled into the pit of his stomach. How could he be so arrogant? Could he have been so pretentious, vying for approval just like his peers back in Manehattan?

No… no, that couldn’t be it. Perhaps this could still be saved. He didn’t need the attention of the other villagers. Tomorrow he could just deliver his poem to Starlight Glimmer for her to read by herself. Yes, that would do it.

That dull throb in his flanks returned. No, that would be merely to court favor with the founder of his village behind everypony else’s back. That was the sort of thing those deceitful social climbers back in Manehattan would do.

But that wasn’t why he was doing it.

...Right?

He stared down at his words, searching for a reasonable explanation as to why he had written them. Maybe… maybe he simply wanted to express his gratitude to Starlight Glimmer? But did he really think she didn’t already know? Her acceptance, her friendship, was already granted, as was that of everypony else in the village. He didn’t have to earn it anymore. He had already done that when he gave up his mark.

Perhaps he could deliver them to her in secret. Then he wouldn’t be calling attention to himself. But then, wouldn’t that be deceitful? A shudder passed through him and he quickly banished the thought.

But if not for attention or for acceptance, why would he write these words? Could it be…

Could it be that he desired to be different? To be seen as better than those around him?

Cold shame washed over him. How could he be so foolish? How could he be so blind not to see his own selfish instincts trying to rule him, as they did those who had hurt him before?

He stared down at his words, now with grim determination. He picked up the pages in his hooves, then slowly but deliberately tore them in half. A pang went through his heart, but he pressed on, ripping them in half a second time, and then a third, before dropping them onto the desk.

He closed his eyes and inhaled slowly, trying to quell his quickly beating heart, then exhaled. He looked solemnly at the shreds of parchment littering his desk. Not until now did he truly understand how much of his old life had followed him here, or what he had to sacrifice to free himself of it.

The shreds of parchment were unceremoniously swept into the waste bin beside his desk. He rose from his chair, turned around, and breathed a sigh of relief. No, it hadn’t been easy to cast his work away, but he had suppressed temptation and perhaps retained his place in the community. It was just another sacrifice that had to be made for acceptance.

Clearly he was not as much a local as he had thought, he mused as he headed for bed. There was much he still had to learn about being truly equal to his fellow villagers. He lay his head upon his pillow, already picturing tomorrow when he would wear a large grin and share in that subdued but enduring joy they surely all felt living here. Yes, time here would heal his wounds. Eventually he would learn freedom from want.

But he couldn’t keep himself from sparing the occasional pained glance at his waste bin. He tossed and turned under his sheets, uneasily awaiting a dreamless sleep.