The Siren's Story

I jerked my head to encourage my parting to merge together over my eyes as she examined myself in the mirror which applied a grimy filter over my reflection, subduing the brilliant colours which shone in my mane, which was pulled back in an old ribbon to control its natural puffiness. The young mare’s gaze was torn away from the mirror as the carriage swayed as it pulled around a tight corner. This unwelcome jerk pulled some spare fabric from my cloak to graze my flank, and started to irritate and itch distractingly. I huffed and looked back at my flank. This was unusual for me. I didn't enjoy looking at myself, much less my flank, but in this case, it wasn't anything particularly offensive that I found there, but more the lack of anything being there at all. I straightened my body out, watching the itchy fabric give me a few moments of decency, before seizing the fabric with my teeth and yanking on it until I tore off a raggedy piece that left my flank cold and bare again. I’d never liked this of course- but it was just simply something beat into me from birth that I absolutely had to do because I was an earth pony.

"Hey! You've been in there far too long!" A rude, snarky comment from outside the bathroom door forced me out of my unusually self-absorbed analysis. I instantly dropped the scrap of material in my obligation, quickly fumbling for a response and opened the door.

"Oh no, I am sorry..." I looked up at one of the escort mares, who was staring down through the spectacles hanging on precariously on the end of her muzzle right down at me.

"I'm not getting paid for you to get injured when the train hits another disjoin in the track," the escort mare told me. "Return to your seat, if you'd be so kind." I  hesitated for a second, feeling a reply dare creep onto my tongue, but I swallowed it and bowed my head, nodding and started to edge back down the narrow corridor of the train cart. As I heard the escort mare move away, I turned back to catch a glance at how the escort mare's flank was not only covered by a far more fashionable cloak but her twitching and overprotective folded wings.

I shook my head and made my way back to her train seat and leaned my head against the grimy window which cast the sky in a much greyer tone than it probably already was, as the window which was frosted by winters earliest touches chilled and stroked my cheeks. I distantly watched the world sluggishly move by, which had become even more reluctant as the train had recently started to scale the mountain which elevated Canterlot and all its inhabitants above the land below, only paralleled by  Cloudsdale which had already passed Canterlot for the year. Nothing was fascinating about this mountain. It was dull and even duller by the grime on the window and any life that still clung on was pitiful, easy prey for the oncoming winter. I turned my head slightly to watch the other mares on the train, but the sight was more depressing than the one outside, even without the film of darkness over it. Nomare wanted to be on this train.

It was eerily quiet for a group of ponies in adolescence, even more so for a group of mares, who even back at the farms and slums would have found a topic of excited conversation. But there was none here. Even siblings barely spoke a word to each other, the edges of their eyes moistened by tears, and others whom had no relatives at all had eyes that were rimmed by shadow and sleeplessness. Most were still, as if struggling to conceive what was happening and it really was their turn to go. Others sobbed and rubbed their hooves together anxiously, the uncertainty at the situation before them clutching their entire body in a way that self-assurance could not persuade them to be still of contain themselves. I blankly turned my attention up to the storage compartments above the seats which were barely used, nearly pristine in a way that had the glow of fresh manufacturing about it, while the rest of the train rotted away from over-exertion as trip after trip, hauling playthings for rich mares up and down this same wretched mountain and all across Equestria. I felt my senses dull with boredom and found my head rocking back as the train lulled me to a deep daydream as I unquestioningly gazed at the world around myself.

“No…” I felt the tears well up in my eyes and I choked, my body becoming loose as I became limp from exhaustion from fighting against the crowd of others. I watched her body convulse and splutter as she writhed in pain. I strained my neck desperately to get a look at her, feeling my heart jump as I saw her head turn.

Her face was riddled with disease, heat bubbling up in red blotches, highlighted by sweat which soaked her mane, which shamed all its brilliance of the yellow streak in the darkness of her black, short-cut mane. She panted and groaned, her hooves thrashing at the ground, her brilliant green eyes sliding around in a manic mess. Until they fixed. On me.

“I’m so sorry….” I groaned, ducking under the stomachs of bigger ponies, reaching my hooves closer to her.

She mouthed something slowly.

I have something for you.

I jerked awake when the train hit the buffers in Canterlot station. And also when my head left from the window and face-planted the back of the seat in front of me. With my chin being covered in a thick film of drool.

I picked myself up quickly, wiping my chin with my forelegs. I looked out of the window, which was bustling with rich mares scrutinizing the train disdainfully. I noticed how there was an entire platform of the station bordered off, just to get the earth ponies from A to B without anypony mixing. I sighed and rolled my eyes, and tightened the string around my neck that secured my scratchy cloak and my name tag. I looked back at the pocket around my torso area, but shook my head and swallowed. Then I stepped out into the slow trickle of mare dragging their hooves down the corridor until they all pooled out onto the platform.

I was instantly regarded with the utmost disgust which was only the extreme prejudice I was dunking myself in. I looked over at all the fancy dresses, top hats, intoxicating swirl of scents clouding the station and making my eyes water. If only she could’ve seen this.

Escort Mares were on the other side of the barriers, reading out a list that was nestled in between her wing. I looked around at them, knowing that the name on my tag would show up. But then, I could easily follow the other, regular mares. To be auctioned off to an unknown unicorn. They could do anything to me. They could be anypony. I could die within a week, a year, or maybe even live until Celestia granted me an out of this life. I was at one of those metaphorical crossroads.

“Adagio Dazzle!”

I bowed my head and ripped off my name tag, nudging the pocket and slowly pulling another one out of it. I chose to be the coward as I looped the noose around my courage. Then I raised my hoof.

I was seized roughly by the tail and hauled over the barrier in front of a well-dressed colt. He tipped his top hat to me respectfully, smiling uncomfortably.

"Adagio.... I'm glad you made it safely."

“Oh, uh… me too…” I smiled in return in hopes to satisfy his enthusiasm, but he didn’t seem to change his fixed expression any.

“I hope you’re ready to step up to the task of working in the Harvest Household.” I tipped my head confusedly, but his eager look didn’t retreat.

“I think… I’ll be capable…” I mumbled, no idea if I was saying the right thing.

“Of course, of course.” He repositioned his hat and looked eagerly over the border as another mare came stumbling over it. “Ah, there’s the other one.”

I simply stared at the mare that promptly thrust herself straight in front of me to look up at this colt. There was no way she had earned herself a pre-assigned family. They were only awarded to those with richer families or if there had been a previous deal between families, and just from the state of her, she was clearly not rich, even by earth pony standards.

Her mane was a spritely shade of blue, but its colour did not improve its ratty and poorly cut waves which spiralled out of control at a great length that curled around the midpoint of her foreleg, her hooves cracked by hard work in the fields. The great mass of hair made her seem even smaller and youthful than she was, I was surprised she had even come of age. But despite all the flaws, mud scratched on her cheeks like war-paint, her goofy grin, her complete lack of any sort of clothing she still had something that I didn’t- a cutie mark.

“Ah, you’re-“

“Yup, Sonata Dusk, at your service!” Her goofy grin irritated me on every level as she proudly thrust her name tag forward into the colt and then whipped her hoof away to rest on her badly-cut fringe in a salute.

“Ah…. Yes….” The colt looked surprised and brushed his jacket down which was now matted with the dust from this annoying mare’s hooves. “Sonata Dusk, Adagio Dazzle, I am Legal Scriptures, here on the behalf of the Harvest Household.” He starts leading us away from the train station platform out into the cobbled street, his words becoming lost the increasing surrounding noise of Canterlot streets and my loss in interest as I felt my face become green as I stared at this mare’s cutie mark. How could someone so goofy, scrappy-

“Adagio, I’m sure you’re aware you’ve been employed with… bonuses to your family?” Scriptures looked back at me with an uncomfortable level of intensity and desire.

“Yeah, I’m aware,” I mumbled as I turned away from his gaze and found my eyes wandering to that mare’s flank again. A ragged music note with a heart behind it. Another singer. Well no shit you found your cutie mark easily. The lecture from Scriptures dulled in my mind again, tuning in and out like a radio struggling to get connection as he lead us down the cobbled street, which ran down the side of busy road that was chaotic with carriages dragged along by other Earth ponies, with buildings modelling the skyline, increasingly getting steeper until it lead up to the greatest attraction in the city, the palace.

“Dagi?” The annoyingly high-pitched voice wormed its way into my ear and I broke out of my trance, and I saw Sonata gesturing to a carriage. “We’re getting in.” She happily tripped into the carriage, stumbling over her hair which intertwined in her forelegs and taking a seat eagerly. I looked at Sonata in shock, struggling to keep my emotions in check, until I decided to ignore this abbreviation of Adagio, swallowing and reluctantly taking a seat next to her. My hooves itched with the temptation to set this mare straight. Breathe. I inhaled and exhaled to calm myself, then looked around.

The carriage was distractingly well-furnished, with a seemingly stable roof, which was good under my extremely paranoid views of roofs. I’d had some bad run ins with makeshift roofs they’d tried to create back home. The seat was soft, like a pillow, but without the lumps, something I definitely wasn’t used to. I testily prodded the seat suspiciously as Legal Scriptures took a seat on the opposite side and took his top hat off with the aura of his light red magic, revealing his curly white hair which clawed between his ears and grew down into sideburns.

“So, regarding the work you will be expected to carry out in the household…” He ran his hoof fondly over his head. “You will be expected to carry out any task your mentor asks you, but you will mostly be expected to serve the heir to the Harvest Family, Korra.”

“Korra sure is an interesting name…” Sonata piped up.

“Yes, she has foreign roots through her father, and has mostly lived with her father, so her pronunciation may be a little skewed for the worse, but you must always regard her with the upmost respect. She’s now living with her mother, but…” As I looked away from the ceiling, back at Scriptures, he was fixing me with that look. Again.

“But…?” Sonata pressed impatiently, breaking the tension, wriggling about on her seat. I allowed myself to direct a smile of gratitude in her direction, which she returned with an honest, ear-to-ear smile all of her own.

“Berry Harvest is not to be disturbed. She is a busy mare, running a big business with big money. Offend her and she will easily remove you- you are worth nothing.” My ears twitched in irritation, and I flattened them in my desperation to control myself and looked out of the window as the rain started to spit on them. The carriage whisked around a corner, up a steep hill, the cobbles making the carriage jerk up and down. The rainclouds pulled like a blanket over the quickly darkening sky, as the crescent moon started to be pulled up in a way that looked so unbalanced that if it were on a string it was surely about to break. The briefing carried on, with minor details floating around, one or two filtering in here and there.

With the quickly darkening night-time Canterlot, amber street lights started flickering on and illuminating the surrounding households, catching the edges of otherwise invisible, skinny cats that were stalking the tall, rickety roofs that seemed to be the fashion here with equally twisted chimneys that created an entirely new skyline of its own.  Rain spattered down on the ponies outside, drenching maids and their household colours that loped behind after their mistresses and masters and on the poster displays that shopkeepers were hurriedly attempting to pack up and shelter as the rain tore the ink out of line and the paper from their hooves. I was able to catch a glimpse of the flyer advertising the latest issue of The Canterlot Messenger, which was being packed up. The lettering was almost incomprehensible, which hindered my far-from-expert ability to read, but the parts I could make out were… Cutie Mark Crisis…. I frowned, struggling to remember what Crisis sounded like out loud, and was able to make out another word below it… Starswrirl the Bearded continuing research… I concentrated hard as the flyer was ripped away and the carriage ripped around another corner, into a more domestic, smaller street, with it populated by drenched pony beggars. That mere distraction ripped the image of what the words looked like before I could remember how to say them out loud.

My jaw dropped at the sheer number of beggars, looking desperately at me through the window; there was so many it was like an infestation, as they all scrabbled and clambered over each other for scraps on the side of the road, darting about dangerously under carriages that I almost yelled for the carriage to stop. I looked over at Sonata, who was watching with equal fascination out of her window, her smile and goofiness robbed from her face and she looked back at me, seeming uncomfortably pale. I nodded.

This was Canterlot. A sexist, racist cesspit of mares throwing money around, and Earth pony slaves left to rot underneath them and scrabble over one another for survival. And it was going on right under Celestia’s nose this entire time. And our beloved Princess of the Night and Day did nothing. And this was the world I was going to have to live in.