Vows

by Vertigo-01

Rating: teen
Tags: Slice of Life, Romance, Tragedy
Length: 14445

Hope Constance lives a comfortable life in the heart of Manehattan with two long-time friends and a mare to keep his bed warm at night. But the pangs of a cherished promise long since broken push him to seek a significant change in life.

It's not uncommon for a pony to make a promise, only to end up breaking it later. Things happen and ponies change – at least, that's the excuse most use. So what assurance is there in the vows we take if, in the end, we fail to uphold them?

Hope Constance has silently wrestled with this question for some time now. Living a comfortable life in the heart of Manehattan with two long-time companions and his marefriend, few stallions would ask for more in life. But the pangs of a broken promise push him to seek a change in his life. With little holding him back in the city where his most precious vow was shattered, Hope prepares to embark on a life all his own.

And a certain cerulean pegasus will help him discover what it means to be faithful.

__________

A story about love, loss, and loyalty.

Rated Teen for mild language and adult themes
Credit for cover art

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2015-04-25 07:40:01 UTC

Prologue - Farewell, Manehattan

Celestia's sun rested on the horizon betwixt the sea and sand.

"Come on, for me, please!"

The sky radiated an effervescent orange, drowning out the blue of day and the dark of night.

"But I don't want to!"

Shallow waves lapped softly against the golden sand, reaching out and receding back into the calm blanket of the sea.

"You can do this, dearest. I'll protect you."

Two sets of hooves tested the temperature of the closest wave, one set more hesitant than the other. The water was still warm.

"But they're out there, I know it!"

A mare set her wet hoof on the shoulder of the stallion next to her, causing a shiver to run down his spine. "We'll do this together. Come on."

The mare wrapped a single wing around the stallion's barrel and carefully led him further into the sea, the water slowly traveling up their fetlocks toward their cannons. The stallion groaned with apprehensive resignation. "If one of them gets me, you're gonna have to take care of me."

The mare rolled her eyes and gave the stallion a knowing smile. "You're safe hun, I promise."

Both ponies were now belly deep in the water as their hooves slowly meandered across the soft bottom of the ocean's terminus. The mare kept her wing's grip tight on the stallion, never allowing a shift in their weight to separate them.

"Well," the stallion spoke with a calmer tone, "At least it's not too cold." As if on command, an involuntary shiver ran down his spine once more, which the mare felt travel against the tips of her wing's feathers.

She giggled as a slight shiver ran down her own back. "I know, right?" The two were now several feet away from the shore. Turning back, they examined the skyline of tall buildings lining the horizon beyond the pristine coastline. It was just late enough that most ponies had already headed back to their hotels, leaving a few hopeless romantics to their own devices.

As they bobbed gently against the smooth surface of the water, the mare looked over at the stallion. "See? You're safe."

"For now."

"Remember, I was a lifeguard. If I have to fly you to shore, I will."

"Just don't let them get me and I'll be fine."

The mare rolled her eyes once more, her expression now diminishing to fatigued aggravation. But she refused to let the stubborn stallion be the ruin of their honeymoon.

The two ponies shared a peaceful moment of silence for a minute as they turned back to look out over the expanse of the ocean, glimmering in the afterglow of twilight. The mare sighed as she took in the sight. "So this is it."

"Married," the stallion whispered blissfully.

The mare smiled again. "I get to spend the rest of my life with you."

Tossing up a small storm of sea spray into the air, the stallion lifted one of his own wings out of the water and blanketed it over the dry back of the mare, causing her to reflexively retract her own wing and shiver against the cold rush of water. He smiled at the trembling mare. "Thank you." The mare tilted her head and gave him a look split between curiosity and a desire for vengeance. "For wanting to put up with me 'til death do us part."

The mare's expression softened as she giggled. "My dearest, I am yours forever because I want to be. Nothing will change that."

"Nothing?"

The mare shook her head and gently nuzzled his neck. "I'll be by your side to the end." The stallion returned the nuzzle in earnest, closing the gap remaining between the two and wrapping another wet wing around her neck, pulling her close to his chest. Carefully, she pulled herself up with her forelegs into an embrace with the stallion, matting the back of his mane against the coat of his neck.

After a moment, the mare sighed playfully. "To think, my knight would be a stallion who's terrified of jellyfish."

The stallion dipped his nose into the salt water and splashed his wife right in the face. For the next few seconds, the two proceeded to war against each other with a volley of splashes created by flailing hooves and wings. The two laughed uncontrollably as one would occasionally overtake the other. Eventually, the mare got the upper hoof and dunked her husband's muzzle down into the water. Without warning, he sunk the rest of his body down, causing the mare to stumble head-long into the water.

Once they both resurfaced and cleared the sting out of their eyes, they looked at each other with exacerbated smiles, the lines of a long day now apparent underneath each other's eyes. With a sigh of relief, the mare asked, "You ready?"

"Yeah." He leaned in and gave his wife a quick, salty kiss. “Let's go.”

As the two scuffled their hooves against the soft sand beneath them, the stallion's head began to buzz. In what felt like a matter of seconds, they were back on the shore, helping each other to towel off.

“I love you, Hope” the mare whispered as the stallion worked to dry her mane off.

He gently pulled the towel taut against the back of the mare's neck, leaning her in closer to his muzzle. He whispered in return, “I love you too.”

The two locked gazes with each other for a moment. Again, the stallion's head buzzed. The landscape around them gradually began to blur, little to his notice. But when the mare spoke again, he noticed her voice sounded distant.

“Right,” he instinctively replied, not exactly sure what she had just said. But it felt like what he was supposed to say in that moment. The scene continued to grow more indistinct. Before long, the stallion could hear a set of several hooves clacking down what sounded like pavement. He turned in the direction of the sound and widened his heavy eyes.

They had been closed the whole time.

Friday, 29 August – Room 909, The Maresonia; Manehattan, Equestria

The stallion breathed a low, heavy sigh into the dark air of the bedroom, pulling the comforter further up his neck with one of his forelegs. 'Another dream', he thought begrudgingly to himself as he listened to the sound of hoof-traffic outside.

Rolling over to his other side, he caught a glimpse of brown mane tufted just above the comforter's edge, a muzzle's length away from him. His eyes narrowed as he watched the mane shift its position.

A dark grey mare poked her head out from underneath the comforter, scooting it down her neck and beyond her forelegs in her sleep. The stallion thought for a moment about pulling her in closer to him, but he knew better. The mare was not so fond of cuddling, especially in the morning.

And besides, for several weeks now, he had woke up only to find himself more disgusted at her presence.

'It's your own fault,' he thought silently to himself as he rolled over again, carefully slipping his hind-legs out from underneath the comforter to scoot toward the floor. 'At least she'll be moving out in a month.'

With little in the way of finesse, he made his way onto his hooves, throwing the cover with his mouth back toward the bed. He looked over the still sleeping mare and carefully tucked the blanket back around her barrel, making sure it wasn't too far up her neck.

The stallion carefully made his way to the door, making sure not to bump into the dresser somewhere off in the darkness. Opening the bedroom door was always something that made him cringe, especially now that the mare was living with him. The hinges weren't squeaky, but the frame liked to sag during warmer weather just enough to make the door squeal when opening and closing. Mustering up the gumption to get it over with, he turned the doorknob carefully and swung it open, allowing the squeal no more than a half-second's performance.

Unfortunately, it rarely made a difference.

“Wh-wha?— Oh…” The mare popped her head up from her pillow, squinting at the stallion with light brown eyes. Her brow furrowed in aggravation, but she didn't say anything further, allowing gravity to send her head back down to the comfort of her pillow.

The stallion didn't bother to give an apology – they were used to it by now. Closing the door as carefully as he could behind him, he made his way down the dark hall and into the yellow luminance of the kitchen.

“'Morning,” came the gruff voice of Burly, a unicorn stallion, sitting at the dining room table. A mug of piping hot coffee sat steaming next to an assortment of notebooks and balled up papers as he scribbled down something on a graph in front of him.

“Mm,” Hope murmured as he walked by him and his other roommate, Chester, sitting quietly at the other end of the table with a crossword puzzle. Opening the fridge, Hope pulled out a nearly empty bottle of apple juice, swishing it around in his hoof. “Who's turn this time?”

“I'll get some tonight,” Chester proffered as an acceptable response, keeping his focus on the crossword he was holding up a little too close to his muzzle.

Hope opened the cap and downed the last bit of the juice, tossing the bottle into a nearby recycling bin. Grabbing his lunch box from the pantry, he meandered over to the front door and pulled out his saddlebag from the adjacent closet. “See ya in twelve.” His adieu was met with the usual grunts of acknowledgement behind him.

Beyond the front door lied another hallway, a bit wider than their own. Doors leading to other apartments lined the walls of the corridor as sickly yellow gas bulbs overhead illuminated the path with a dull light. The hue had always bothered Hope's eyes. Keeping his focus mostly on the floor in front of him, he trotted toward the elevator.

Upon pushing the button, the doors clanked open with an unnerving swiftness. Hope wondered when the thing would finally fling the polished steel panels out into the dark unknown that surrounded the elevator's cabin. Walking inside, the cabin shifted from his weight with a slight groan. He pushed the sticky 'Floor' button and watched as the doors flung back close with the same violence as before.

Hope always found it funny that both the chime and the music for the elevator were far more upbeat than the appearance of the rest of the building. Ting came the sound from the panel on the wall, and the calm ambience of modern classical began playing from a quality speaker above. He shook his head and smiled at the absurdity as the elevator groaned and ground its way to the bottom floor.

As the doors flung open, he found the small, dimly lit lobby to be filled with an unusual amount of unfamiliar ponies talking amongst themselves. Not wanting to be late for work, he tried to pay them no mind, nudging through the crowd out toward the front doors.

“Yo, Hope!” came a vaguely familiar voice from somewhere within the crowd. It looked like today wasn't going to be his day.

“Oh, hey Sharp Wit.” Too bad his name didn't fit his personality.

Sharp Wit pushed through the crowd over toward Hope. “So, have you guys decided if you're going to move or not?”

Hope blinked. “Um… We weren't really planning on it yet. Why?”

Sharp Wit's ears folded at the tips as his eyes widened in shock. “Don't tell me you didn't get a notice!”

Hope threw a hoof up to his head and glared back toward the elevator. 'I bet Burly did and forgot.' He shook his head to confirm the other stallion's question.

“Wow. Well, that's why we're all here. We're trying to raise a committee to debate the notice.”

Hope looked around at the other mares and stallions crowded around in the lobby. He noticed the front desk clerk looked to be more than a bit aggravated at the motley crew that had assembled themselves so early in the morning. “So, these are other tenants?”

“Um, yeah? Duh?” Sharp Wit groaned. “C'mon, surely you know some of your neighbors.”

“Surely you assume too much,” Hope remarked as he turned for the lobby doors. “Anyway, I've got work. Best of luck and stuff.”

“Hey!” Sharp Wit caught Hope by the shoulder, who turned back to return a vehemently disapproving scowl. Sharp Wit quickly pulled his hoof back and stammered “I-It's just that they're planning to tear down the place within the next three months. Won't you lend a hoof?”

'Three months?' Hope thought to himself. 'What's the city commission on about this time?' He sighed and looked over the crowd, then said “Throw the details my way later. I'll be home tonight after seven.”

“Y'got it!” With that, Sharp Wit made his way back into the crowd, immediately picking up on a conversation of some sort with two elderly mares.

Pushing open the creaky doors to the apartment complex, Hope was nearly plowed into by a group of laughing foals galloping down the sidewalk. He threw a dark glare at their backs and made his way down the path opposite their direction.

The city was bustling with life as usual. Ponies of all kinds and ages trotted the sidewalks and flew overhead, busy with their own responsibilities. Taxis were speeding through the center of the streets as couriers cut their way through the traffic, looking for clear spaces to park their wagons in front of each business. This was the morning rush, the bustle of ponies simply trying to get from point A to B as quickly as possible, as Celestia's sun rose somewhere out in the sky beyond the buildings rising overhead.

Hope's place of business was six blocks in one direction, and another three after a left turn. It took about thirty minutes to get from home to work, and that was taking into mind hoof traffic. Hope enjoyed what time there was during his ridiculous work schedule just to get out and work his muscles. But it was warm, dry mornings like this one that made him miss the country of his former home that much more. He might have been a city pony in mind and personality, but not at heart. For several months, he had longed for a return to nature.

'Maybe I'll take a walk through the park tonight,' he thought to himself as he trotted at a swift pace down the sidewalk, passing most ponies who were headed in the same direction. The park was sandwiched between two blocks and an abandoned warehouse between his apartment and work. He had once called it “the scenic route” after taking the path several months ago, although a return trip soon afterward merited a race for his life as a mugger attempted to steal his lunch box. 'Hmm, maybe not.'

Before long, Hope was walking up to the sliding doors of his work place, Hoofington Shareholders. He looked up at the tinted panes of glass overhead, stretching upward toward the sky some forty floors. The sight had always given him a sensation of vertigo, but he had been working hard to get over his fear of tall things. After all, he was a pegasus. No sense in being afraid of heights he could easily fly, although he knew the fear wasn't quite as cut and dry as that.

A teal mare bumped into his flank, pulling him out from his stupor. “Ah, sorry—“

“I don't think staring at the thing is gonna make it disappear.” The mare winked at Hope as she looked up at the building's glass facade.

Hope ran a hoof through the back of his mane. “Ugh, it's just you, Mel.”

“Oh, just Mel? I see how it is.” The mare nudged him in the shoulder as she walked through the sliding doors.

“You know what I mean.” Hope walked in slowly behind her, steeling his thoughts in preparation for the work day ahead.

The next twelve hours went by just as typical as ever. Papers pushed, several dozen trips to the stock market across the street and back, more papers pushed, a few errant demands from one supervisor or another to buy out a company – usually small muffin manufacturing startups – and then the usual typed analysis at the end of the day.

“Phew!” Hope ran a foreleg across his brow, only marginally sweaty from the repeat trips to the stock market throughout the day. Mel was just walking within earshot when he looked up beyond his cubicle. “Hey Mel, check it out.”

“Whatcha' got there?” Mel walked up and skimmed over the paper Hope was holding in front of him. “Oh yeah, Broker's gonna love this.”

“Two hundred thousand bits in a day.” Hope stared at the paper, a dull haze glazing over his heavy eyes. “Well, hopefully the buyouts will bring in a profit over the week.”

“They never do.”

Hope shrugged. “It's whatever.” As he stood up to submit the daily report to his direct supervisor, Mel continued on down the hall to the exit, leaving him alone amongst the mostly abandoned cubicles.

On his way to the other end of the floor, Hope stopped at the only accessible part of the glass wall, where cubicles hadn't cordoned it off. Looking out at the cityscape, he could see Celestia's setting sun glowing a vibrant orange just beyond the Queensbridle Bridge. It would be night in a matter of minutes, and Hope was more than ready to be on his way home.

But the moment's reprieve was nice. It had been a few years since he had taken time to admire the city's skyline. Hope sat on his haunches and soaked in the sight for a few seconds, reminiscing on his early years in Manehattan when he first started college. Vague memories of study sessions and playing with his friends in the park flashed through his mind. He did his best to work around the memories of a certain mare, to try to remember the times when she wasn't the primary focus.

It was useless. Within a few weeks of beginning college, Hope had become good friends with a special somepony. A year later, they were dating, and another three years after that, they had married. Memories of their times together fogged over his mind as he watched the sun inch beyond the horizon. A familiar and most unwelcome sensation began to settle in, a feeling of someone tugging a dull rope tight around his chest.

'Snap out of it,' Hope reprimanded himself in his mind. 'It's your fault. Suck it up and deal with it.' With a nod and huff to himself, Hope continued onward through the office, leaving the sun to finish its descent without him.

After dropping off the papers with the lone supervisor left in the building, Hope made his way back down to the ground floor and exited out into the street, joining in with the throng of ponies bustling their way back to their respective homes. For a short moment, Hope reconsidered walking through the park, but he simply wasn't in the mindset to be dealing with would-be thieves this evening. He still wanted to change the commute home a little at least. Instead of taking the usual turn three blocks down from work, he walked an extra block down, then turned right in the general direction of his apartment.

This was a street he knew better when he first moved to Manehattan: Mark Avenue. Housing most of the good coffee shops and exotic restaurants in town, Hope had spent many hours of the night during his college years hanging out with friends, including the special somepony who had won his heart years ago. The businesses along the street had changed a lot of their advertising over the years, and some had either been abandoned or bought out by other companies. It was still familiar, but it was clear that time was doing its work diligently. In another few years, it would be a far-cry from how it once appeared during his college days. Except for one place.

Grand Stallion Station. Manehattan's city council had done a fantastic job of preserving much of the train station's original aesthetics while still keeping it up with the times. Old iron archways that harkened back to the architecture of early Manehattan graced the entrances of the station's many wide platforms within, accentuated by light poles and signs that carried over the design cues while keeping up with the latest technology, such as tile-scrolling advertisements and halogen lamps. Hope could still remember taking his sweet time exiting the station for the first time years ago as he took in the sights. Having grown up most of his adolescent life on the plains bordering Whitetail Woods, he could barely remember the first few years him and his parents had lived in Fillydelphia. His decision to attend college in Manehattan was largely based on his desire to rediscover life in the city.

But life in the city as a stallion paled in comparison to the memories he had made as a colt – at least when he took into consideration work and responsibilities. He couldn't deny that the memories he made at college with his friends outshone those of his youth, but Hope had never really come to embrace the idea of being responsible for his own well-being. And bills.

Of course, if he considered the certain somepony, none of that really mattered.

“Once upon a time,” Hope whispered to himself amongst the crowd of ponies walking to and fro around him. Continuing down the street across from the train station, Hope examined the different store fronts and noted the changes over the years. But just as he was about to pass beyond the block, he stopped and glanced over at the station one last time.

'One of these days, I'm gonna have to find another change of scenery.' With a flick of his tail, Hope returned his attention to the sidewalk ahead of him.

Friday, 26 September – Lobby, The Maresonia

“Okay, yeah, I get it. But seriously, the city council isn't going to budge on the matter. The survey concluded the foundation is beyond feasible repair, so... What do you expect us to accomplish within two months, anyway?”

Sharp Wit sighed as he let set in the reality of the situation. “I don't know, Hope. I really don't. But I'm not ready to give up on this place. Not just yet.”

Hope put a hoof on his shoulder, making his first attempt to reassure the stallion whom he was still rather unfamiliar with. “I know you've lived here for a lot longer than us, but honestly, at this point, your best bet is to cut your losses before you and the others are any farther behind. Use the time left to look for somewhere else to stay.” Hope struggled to keep his tone flat as he added “We already have.”

Sharp Wit's ears flicked forward. “You have?”

“Well, tentatively speaking, yes… We're looking into a house over in Foal Neck.”

With a dramatic roll of his eyes, Sharp Wit slid out from underneath Hope's hoof and said “That figures. Looking to 'move on up,' I take it?”

Hope breathed a heavy sigh. He knew Sharp Wit would take offense, especially since he had promised to help out with the restoration petition a little under a month ago. “Look, whether or not this had happened, we were planning to move eventually. This just helped us make the decision sooner and—“

“So, what, you're saying you're happy they're tearing us down? It's a piece of Manehattan's history! How could you—”

“Let me finish.” Hope glared at the stallion, willing him to shut up for one second. “We had a friend of a friend who hooked us up with… another friend. They'll be renting out a house next month, so we figured now would be the perfect opportunity to make our move.”

Sharp Wit snorted, clearly disgruntled, but understood what Hope was saying. “That's fair, I guess. But won't you still help support the petition?”

Hope shook his head. “I'm telling you, from a professional standpoint, this is hopeless. And by Celestia, I swear no pun was intended with that.” He locked eyes with the stallion, just to be sure he wouldn't retort with some snide quip about his name. That had been the bane of his existence for most of his life – 'Hope' always seemed to slip into the wrong parts of a conversation.

“Yeah… I know.” Sharp Wit's expression submitted to the defeat Hope insisted he give into.

“It's not the end of the world, Sharp. I'm only telling you this so that you and the others don't waste what little time is left in an attempt to upturn an already derailed train. Cut your losses. Pack your bags. Make the next move, like you were talking about a month ago. Therein lies your best ho— odds.”

Sharp Wit returned a weak smirk. “Nice save. And… yeah. I know you're right.” He shook his head and looked around at the decrepit lobby. “I guess I could do with some change myself. It's not like I don't have the money.”

“You and I both." Hope smiled as warmly as he could for the stallion. "Fight for what you can change, but don't burn yourself out on an impossible venture like this one.”

“Mm.” With a quick nod, Sharp Wit continued outside as Hope walked on to the elevator.

Once the doors had flung themselves open and shut, Hope whispered to himself, “I really gotta get over the lecturing bit.” Arriving on the ninth floor, Hope meandered into the dimly lit hallway and made his way to the door of his apartment. He could already here music bumping inside. With a low, disgruntled groan, he cracked the door open and slipped inside.

Burly and Chester were donned in their best formal attire as they sat at the dining room table across from the living room, chowing down on a stack of pancakes.

“Well, at least you guys are ready,” Hope shouted over the music blaring from a nearby hifi as he walked inside.

“We're leaving in thirty minutes,” Chester yelled over. “You gonna dress here or there?”

“There. I'm grody enough trying to get home during the middle of the lunch break rush. I swear, I'll never hear the end of it at work.”

“Didn't you have some sick hours stocked up?” Burly asked.

“Yeah,” Hope replied as he rummaged through the living room closet for his blazer. “But it's not like they want us to use 'em – y'know how it goes.”

“Mmm.” Burly redirected his attention to the syrupy mess in front of him, devouring a whole flapjack in just two bites as his head bobbed with the beat of the music.

“I'm gonna step in the shower,” Hope shouted over the rave. “Then we can head to the wedding.” His roommates either didn't hear him or didn't bother forming a reply, so Hope made his way to the tiny hall bathroom.

After rinsing his body and shaking the excess water off, he stepped up to the mirror and did his best to tame his layered mane. Walking back out into the living area, Hope draped his blazer over his back and slipped on his best horseshoes as the crew headed down to the lobby. It would normally take them thirty minutes to make the several block commute to the wedding venue, but thankfully this wedding was no modest affair.

As the three stallions walked out onto the sidewalk, a white stallion leading a luxury carriage shouted from the street. "Party for Champ?"

"That'd be us." Hope and the others loaded up into the carriage and took a seat. Immediately, the stallions began examining the elegant design of their chauffeur's vehicle.

"Leave it to Champ to make this a big deal." Burly commented as the carriage began rattling across the pavement.

"Nah man," Hope retorted, "This is his fiancée's touch, I guarantee you. Didja hear how much her mother's dumped into the wedding?"

"I don't want to know," Chester said flatly as he watched the buildings pass by outside.

Burly furrowed his brow and looked at Hope, sporting a smile that didn't quite match the rest of his features. "Yours wasn't nearly as much, right?"

Hope shook his head. "All hoof-decorated and hoof-made, including her dress." A smile worked its way across his muzzle as he glanced outside at ponies going about their business. "It's just a shame I didn't pitch in more. Could've been a lot less stressful."

Burly nodded. "Well. I'm happy for you and Tracer. Just know that."

Hope nodded slowly, fighting to keep from scowling at his statement.

The commute was short-lived at just under ten minutes. Everypony hurried inside a tall, white building to find the dressing room. Hope hurried to fasten his blazer over his withers and chest just as the wedding fanfare began to play in the foyer. Rushing out of the changing room, the three joined up with a group of ponies lined down the side of a long stretch of indigo carpet.

"So that's the mare," Hope whispered as he watched a mare who could easily have been mistaken for a tall filly canter down the carpet, wing in wing with her father. At the end of the carpet was a small podium, where Champ stood with an entourage of other stallions and mares surrounding the center. One elder stallion stood at the forefront, waiting for the bride and father.

Hope couldn't help but smile at his friend Champ, who had somehow managed to strike his signature stoic pose while letting his joy radiate through his expression in the warmest sense possible. 'I've never seen that guy so happy.'

The bride-to-be worked her way into his peripheral vision, walking up to the podium with her father. As the two stepped up onto the platform, the music ceased. With a single kiss on the mare's forehead, the father offered her hoof to Champ and made his way to stand alone below the podium, just a few feet away from the rows of ponies gathered on the other side of the carpet.

The elder stallion at the podium cleared his throat. "Fillies and gentlecolts. Today, we are gathered here to celebrate the union of Champ, and Lightheart," As the stallion motioned for the groom and bride to speak their vows, Hope drifted off into a daydream of his own wedding.

It had been a long time since Hope gave any serious thought to his wedding. He had known for some time that Champ's wedding was likely to stir those old memories within him. Months before submitting his RSVP, Hope had wrestled with the idea of not attending at all. But here he stood, ready to support his long-time friend, in accepting vows that he himself had failed to uphold.

Hope's mind wavered between images of his wedding and the one taking place in front of him now. Then, an image of Tracer leaning on top of him made its way into his mind. He closed his eyes and fixed his attention on the memory.

Her voice was still clear in his head. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

"It's been two months since she left." Hope had been fighting back the tears and nausea swelling within him in that moment, but he was ready. He simply did not want to hang on to what was already lost. "This is what I want."

Tracer wrapped her hooves gently around his neck, tucking his head beyond the soft coat of her shoulder as she rested the weight of her body on top of his. She whispered gently into his ear, "This won't be like it was with her."

"I know." Hope willed himself to slow his breathing as he took in the unfamiliar scent of the mare lying atop him.

Tracer nodded into the coat of his own shoulder and shifted her weight down. "Alright then. Relax. Just breathe." Hope blinked as the words repeated themselves in his mind, but in another mare's voice. "... Just breathe..."

Suddenly, ponies all around Hope began to stomp their hooves in cheer against the hardwood floor surrounding the carpet, violently wrenching him from the memory of that night. He could swear he tasted the faintest hint of bile in the back of his throat.

"Way to go, Champ!" shouted Burly right next to Hope's left ear, causing him to wince. He refocused his attention on the newlywed ponies just pulling out of a heated kiss. Now he was sure he tasted vomit.

Chester stomped his hooves genially to his right, casting a quick glance in his direction. An eyebrow inched its way up as he examined Hope's expression. "Hangin' in there?"

"Y-yeah," Hope stammered. "I... just need to talk to Tracer tonight."

Chester's brow furrowed, turning his expression into one that could either be read as disapproving or understanding – Hope never was quite sure with the stallion. After a moment, Chester nodded and shouted "Fair enough" above the tumult of stomping hooves.

The post-wedding dinner was an exorbitantly long affair given the mass number of attendees. Hungry and ready to be done with the day, Hope wormed his way through the line, cutting beyond those who found their patience waning too thin to wait any longer.

"Aw yeah!" Hope looked down at a large covered tray labeled 'Sautéed Daisies'. He looked up at the young mare tending to the table and noticed her scowl.

"Sorry, we're out," she snapped as if to reprimand Hope for saying something offensive.

Hope returned the scowl. "When're you gettin' some more?"

"Keep moving, find something else you like." The mare shooed him on down the line, causing him to almost bump into the next pony in front of him. Grumbling, he glanced back at the mare and noticed her cutie mark was a canvas and easel with two small paintbrushes gracing the front.

Hope couldn't help but giggle a little under his breath as he whispered "I always get into it with the artist types." He shook his head as he grabbed a plate and picked out a few dainty looking cucumber sandwiches.

With some half-decent food now in his system, Hope made the trek back home with his two roommates at a slower pace down the sidewalk. With the wedding now behind them and the emotions still fresh, Hope contemplated what would be the best way to handle things next.

Burly tilted his head in Hope's direction and raised an eyebrow. "What's on your mind?"

Hope sighed as he looked over at Burly with a weak smile. "I think it's time." Burly blinked in confusion. "To break up with Tracer."

Burly reared his head back in shock as Chester continued cantering beside them, undaunted. "You're gonna break up with her? But... why?!"

"Why do you think we got together in the first place?" With a gruff snort, Hope turned his head away toward the street as he continued. "She needed to get away from home, and I needed someone to keep me from going insane. We're both a lot better off now than we were. Plus, she's moving out in four days. I don't think this would last much longer anyway." Hope turned back to the stallion.

Burly didn't look completely convinced, but he seemed to pick up the seriousness in his inflection. "Well, if that's how you feel."

"That's how I've felt for a while." He paused for a moment. "And that's how she used to feel at one point."

Chester finally chimed in. "'Used to'?"

"Yeah... about a month ago, she said she had fallen in love with me. But I wasn't able to return the sentiment."

Hope's roommates visibly winced at the statement. After a moment of silence, Burly gave a firm nod and added "In that case, maybe it's best you end things now."

"Mm." Hope didn't agree with what Burly was probably thinking – that he would never fall in love with the mare himself. That wasn't the issue. It was primarily a matter that his sentiments, and his vows, lied elsewhere.

Several minutes passed in relative silence as the stallions made their way back to the apartment complex. It was late enough now that Tracer would be heading back from work soon. Setting his mind and heart ready to break the news, the stallion made his way with his friends up to the ninth floor apartment, threw his blazer in the closet, and made his way to the bedroom.

One thing that Hope realized he would miss upon entering the cozy bedroom was how much Tracer had made the apartment feel like a real home. Tracer's additions were both tasteful and modest, neither creating clutter nor contrasting with his own furnishings. This fact was most evident in their bedroom. Tracer's horseshoes graced one side of the wall on a neatly organized rack, and her winter wear filled exactly half of the closet, complimenting the fashion tastes they shared. Dresser drawers had been divided down the middle between his and hers in a similar way, and where Hope's bookcase sported sharp angles, Tracer's shelf-top accessories boasted more refined curvature. The room felt complete.

But the bed did not.

Hope tossed himself onto the huge bed, letting his weight sink into the plushness of the comforter and foam mattress beneath it. He allowed himself to rest his eyes only for a while, not wanting to fall into a nap just in case Tracer came home sooner than later. Which she did.

The familiar squealing sound of the door against the warped frame startled him out of near slumber. He blinked his eyes and fixed them on the exhausted slump of his marefriend.

The earth pony silently unbuckled her saddlebag and tossed it to the floor, kneeling down beside the bed and flopping her muzzle into the comforter. She let out a long, low groan that brought a knowing smile to Hope. "Long day?"

"Always." Tracer looked up and gave the stallion a fatigued smile. "So, how was the wedding?"

"It was good." Hope took a deep breath, then added, "And we need to talk."

Tracer's gaze fixed with his eyes for a few seconds, moving smoothly from apprehension to recognition. "It got to you, didn't it?" Hope nodded once. "I thought so." The mare sighed as she inched her muzzle closer to his shoulder.

Hope wrapped a foreleg around her withers, helping to pull her onto the bed beside him. He wrapped a wing over her barrel as the two shifted to their stomachs. The two met eyes again. "I'm sorry, Tracer."

She shook her head. "Don't be. I figured this was coming." She smiled at him with an expression mixed with both defeat and relief. "I'm just glad you didn't wait any longer."

"I'm still helping you move."

"And I wouldn't have it any other way." Tracer gently nuzzled Hope's cheek, breathing in the scent of spring weather that was ever present in his pale green coat. "To think, I finally got used to your weird smell, too."

Hope scoffed. "It's a pegasus thing, you wouldn't understand." The mare nudged him in the shoulder, eliciting a short giggle from both of them.

"So," Tracer's playful smile slowly dulled into a neutral expression. "What's next for you?"

Hope shrugged. "Remain faithful. Wait and see. The same thing I was wanting to do before, but couldn't."

"Do you really think it's worth it?"

"It's worth it. Will it make a difference?" Hope sighed. "Probably not. But I want to know if I can. I need to know if I can do this on my own."

Tracer gave him one last nuzzle before stepping off the bed. "I understand. Just know, if you ever need anything, I will always be here for you. Wherever 'here' may be." The mare winked at him with a warm smile. "I'm gonna grab a shower real quick. Then you owe me dinner."

Hope smiled warmly in return. "You got it."

Wednesday, 8 October – Corner of Mark Avenue and East 42nd St.

It had been a little over a week since Tracer moved into her new apartment. It took a couple nights to get used to the empty bed, but Hope was surprised how quickly he had adjusted to her absence. What felt more prominent was the absence of her additions to the apartment; without them, the place felt far less like a home, and more like a bachelor pad – which, for all intensive purposes, Hope guessed it was.

For the past few days, Hope had changed his regular commute home to the extra block down from work. Each evening, he would glance over at the old iron archways of the train station, stained a strangely pleasant honey brown from the rust of a hundred years' weather. Something about the old structure was especially alluring in the amber glow of the late evening. And tonight, he decided to take a closer look.

Crossing the street at a canter to avoid the passing taxis, Hope trotted up to Platform No. 7. This was the platform he had exited when first arriving in Manehattan five years before. Not much about the station had changed since then, aside from the addition of a few scrolling advertisements. One in particular brought a smile to his face: “Discover the Beauty of Manehattan: Guided Tours, 5 bits per pony, 2 bits for foals.” Hope had been naïve enough to give it a shot upon his first arrival. A crowded double-decker carriage pulled by six stallions had slowly toured the outskirts of the city with little fanfare, the only scenery really being the view of the Queensbridle Bridge at dusk. But, admittedly, that was one of the things that had reignited his love for the city. There simply was no more breathtaking sight to Hope than the glow of a city skyline in the evening light of Celestia's sun.

Hope decided to trot inside the platform to browse around at some of the vacation advertisements. He found a strangely fancy one for his old home of Whitetail: “Rest Your Weary Hooves in the Tranquility of Whitetail Woods. Cabin rentals begin at 80 bits per night.” Hope shook his head and smirked; Whitetail was hardly a vacation spot, more like a place to retire or go camping for a couple of nights, although he could see the allure it would have for city folk. Another advertisement stood in stark contrast directly across from it: “Las Pegasus Needs YOU… to Come Try Your Luck! Slots and Blackjack 24/7.”

As Hope examined the different advertising posts, the voice of a young mare broke the ambience. "Taking a ticket, or just browsing?”

"Hm?" Hope glanced away from a board for San Palomino at a white mare with a short, curly purple mane, standing behind a nearby booth.

The mare smiled. "Don't tell me you're lost?"

Hope smirked and let out a nervous chuckle as he walked up to the booth. "Um, not exactly. Just... yeah. Browsing."

The mare stood up from her seat and leaned on the counter separating them. "Okay, now that's interesting." She cocked an eyebrow as her tone became dreamy. "So, whatcha lookin' for exactly? Vacation spots? A new home?… Maybe an adventure?"

Hope blinked. He was confused by the young mare's sudden interest, and yet, he couldn't help but smile at the strange intrigue that emanated from her expression. He decided to play along for a moment. "I don't know… Adventure?" He looked around the metalwork of the station. "Somewhere that's not a city?"

"Hmm..." The mare rubbed a pristine white hoof across her chin as she cocked her head around at sharp angles to examine the surrounding advertisements. "Well, there's Appaloosa. But you don't seem like the arid type." She glanced up at Hope, who shook his head hesitantly, then looked around again. "There is Snowfall, but… That's probably too cold. Vanhoover's too far… Hayseed too damp…"

The mare glanced up at a board overhead that listed off the train schedule for the week. After a second, she shot her torso back toward Hope and clapped her hooves down on the counter, startling the stallion. "I gots'it! You need…" The mare hoofed and mouthed as if she were drumming. Drawing a deep, dramatic breath, she shouted, "Ponyville!"

Hope made a face, now both startled and confused. "U-um... okay? What's Ponyville?"

"Well, it's..." The mare tapped a hoof on the counter as she thought. "It's not too cold, not too warm. Not big. Not small."

Hope raised an eyebrow. "Well, we know what it isn't, but what is it?"

“To be honest, all I know is a lot of ponies travel there. Why? I haven't the faintest. But we often get the adventurin' types lookin' for somethin' out in those parts of the country, ponies of all different kinds.” The mare's eyes softened as she gave the stallion an encouraging look. “I heard one pony call it the perfect place to start a pilgrimage.”

Hope's expression gradually faded into a contemplative frown. “Pilgrimage?” He thought in silence for a moment about the word, running a hoof idly across his chin.

“Heeyyaa, sir? Mister stallion, sir?” The mare waved in front of him to reclaim his attention.

“Y-yeah, sorry.” The stallion moved his hoof from his chin to across the back of his mane as he looked over the word 'Ponyville' on the board above. “I don't know. I've haven't heard much about the place. I used to live just outside Whitetail with my family years ago, but we rarely visited the neighboring towns.”

“Well,” the mare sat back in a spinny chair behind the counter, allowing herself to turn 360 degrees before coming to a stop and giving Hope a dead-pan glare. “All the more reason to go exploring.”

'This mare must have coffee for blood,' Hope thought amusingly to himself. Yet somehow, the mare's enthusiasm was infectious. In a matter of minutes, Hope had gone from idly curious to… 'Hm, what's a good way to word this…'

“You definitely seem eager to try something new, dear,” the mare spoke with a sudden seriousness in her tone. “Why not give it a shot?”

Hope looked into the eyes of the mare. 'Eager. That's the word.' Clearing his throat, he replied “Well… I kind of got a job to tend to—“

“So what?” The mare asked him in all seriousness.

“'So what?' I got bills to pay!”

“Psh,” the mare scoffed as she looked over the eager stallion. “Since when has a job held back adventurers from their passions?”

“I would hardly call myself an 'adventurer', miss… um…”

“Sally Pie.” The mare extended a hoof across the counter and shook the stallion's. As she broke into another smile, she said “If it makes you feel any better, I've got a cousin who lives in Ponyville. I could probably hook ya up if you needed a tour guide or somethin'.”

“Seriously?” Hope sighed as he contemplated both the absurdity of the proposal, and the excitement that it was eliciting within him. “It has been a long time since I've been away from the city… Maybe a short visit wouldn't hurt.”

The mare's smile grew bigger. “Now you're thinkin' with your heart. Tell ya what, mister…?”

“Hope. Sorry, I'm bad with introductions.” He offered her an awkward smile in return.

“Well, mister Hope, how 'bout this. Next time ya get some time off to yourself, why dontcha' come pay me a visit and see if we can't set ya up with some adventurin' time? Ponyville style!” The mare's smile faltered a little as she added “Whatever that means.”

Hope glanced around the mostly vacant platform, mulling the offer over in his head. 'It would be fun to do something new for once. But is it reasonable?' Money wasn't so much an issue for Hope as his responsibilities at home were – meaning his job. 'That stupid job; I've never worked so many hours in my life, and all for what?' As he thought about the prospect of visiting a town away from the city, Hope's wings fluttered excitedly against his sides, completely unbeknownst to their owner.

The mare spotted his excitement. “You don't have to make a decision right now. I'm here six outta seven days of the week on the evening shift. Sleep on it, toss the idea around. Stop by when you make your decision.”

“Yeah…” Hope nodded slowly as a smile made its way across his muzzle. “Yeah, I think I can do that.”

“Great! Now get outta here, you're holdin' up the line.”

Hope turned around to find a single stallion walking up to the platform. He laughed as he glanced back over at Sally Pie. “Oh, so sorry, I'm just ruining your business, aren't I?”

“You better be giving me some of yours here in the next few days.” The mare winked and waved him off as she redirected her attention to the real customer.

Hope trotted off the platform back out into the street, a new pep in his step as he made his way toward the apartment. 'A pilgrimage, huh?' The stallion liked the sound of that word.

Tuesday, 14 October – 27th Floor, Hoofington Shareholders

“Well buck you too, you thankless ass!”

Hope stormed out of the supervisor's office back onto the main floor, kicking up a flurry of papers in his wake.

“Hey, I'm not finished!” came a shout from the office behind him as a brown stallion, almost flushed entirely red around his cheeks, poked his head out from the corner.

“Well, I am.” Hope unbuckled the branded saddlebag he was wearing and let it roll to the floor, keeping his pace up and heading straight for the elevator at the other end. Mares and stallions from surrounding cubicles quietly poked their heads up to watch the scene unfold.

“You have one month left here as an associate before you can get your accreditation,” the supervisor shouted back as he matched Hope's pace several feet behind him. “You really want to throw it all away like this?”

“Look, Broker,” Hope turned around abruptly and faced the stallion. The two matched glare for glare as both stood rigid. “You saw the numbers. I told you it was a bad investment not even a week ago, and you want to blame this on me?”

“You're the one who's supposed to catch this stuff!”

“And I did!” Hope shouted at the top of his lungs as he stomped a hoof on the floor. “How thick-headed are you anyway? Have you not heard a single word I've said?” The stallion took two steps forward, eliciting a shocked expression from Broker as Hope inched his muzzle closer toward his. “I don't need to hear your horseshit when you're the reason the company made a bad investment. If you're going to be that narrow-sighted, then take it out on the rest. I want no part of it.”

“Hope.” The supervisor drew a steadying breath as he capped off their argument. “I want you to back away, and get off my floor, right now. Before I call security.”

Hope blinked at the stallion, casting furtive glances around at the ponies looking at him. A sudden wave of embarrassment and nausea flooded his system, pushing the adrenaline of his anger out and replacing it with anxious tension. Without so much as another word, he turned back toward the elevator and briskly made his way to the push buttons. An awkward few seconds of silence later, the doors opened with a familiar chime. Hope clambered inside, alone, and let the doors close behind him.

There were plenty of floors between Hope and ground level, giving him a moment to steady his breathing and clear his mind. 'Just hold it in until we're outside, you've got this,' he tried to reassure himself as he stared down at the floor away from the doors.

A minute later, the chime sounded, and Hope trotted swiftly through the lobby and out into the street. Once the sliding doors closed behind him, he slouched onto his haunches in the sidewalk and drew a deep breath.

'I haven't felt that angry since our last fight.' Hope let down his mental walls and allowed a single, dark memory between him and his wife to pass through. He could still remember with perfect clarity the anger twitching through his muscles, his narrowed vision focused on an equally angry mare. A single hoof rose above her frame, prone to strike.

A bitter chill ran down his spine. No amount of months had dulled the pain of the memory, no amount of nights spent in the embrace of his former marefriend had healed the wound. 'Some wound, though,' he thought to himself. 'I have no right to feel this way. That was my fault. I was the bad guy.' For a moment, the logical voice of his marefriend tried to make its way through his conscious, assuring him of how far he had come since those days. But for all the reassurances she had given him, all the truths she had highlighted, no amount of words said or actions done had helped to heal the damage that had forever been done.

“No rest for the wicked,” Hope whispered as he picked himself off the concrete and started walking down the street.

It was a couple hours short of evening, and Celestia's sun still offered the city a decent amount of light and warmth against the coming fall weather. With no cumbersome saddlebag to lug around anymore, Hope took a few quick steps forward down an empty stretch of sidewalk and wearily stretched his wings, trying to gain some lift. In a moment, he was hovering a few feet off the ground.

Hope rarely got the opportunity during weekdays to stretch his wings thanks to the earth-pony saddlebags the company had used for all its employees, and downtime was too short to merit throwing the thing off during breaks. As the warm air funneled beneath his matted feathers, Hope tossed his mane back and soaked in the sensation of the wind flowing over his body, caressing the curvature of his frame and trailing back into a cooling funnel around his tail. That was one thing Hope missed the most about Whitetail Woods: the freedom to fly whenever, wherever.

Hope broke his stream of thought as the sudden realization of being jobless hit him square in the sternum, threatening to buckle his wings mid-air. His supervisor was right; with only one month left of associate work, he was well on his way to cementing a career. Now, he would probably have to start all over again from the ground up – that is, if his supervisor didn't file to have him blacklisted from the market.

The whole thing was stupid in Hope's mind though; the only reason he had even taken the job was to help provide for him and his wife once upon a time. Nearing the end of his college days, Hope was beginning to realize that while his skills lied in crunching numbers and working out logical problems, his passions lied elsewhere. He had always loved to get his hooves dirty as a colt, and his favorite job to date was one where he had helped tend to the birds of an aviary neighboring his family's home in Whitetail.

But hard labor rarely amounted to much in the way of financial success. His parents, an earth stallion and pegasus mare of similar accounting trade, had once identified as upper-class ponies back in Fillydelphia before they had retired. Hope remembered that the transition between city life and country was stark, but thankfully he had been able to quickly adjust due to his youth. His parents, on the other hand, had not fared as well. They had struggled for the first couple of years to learn to live off the land, fighting and bickering through most of the issues. But struggle they did, and the fruits of their labor showed by the time Hope had reached adolescence. Between them and their neighbors, they helped grow fruits and vegetables of a wide variety that they exported to various neighboring towns, and the birds their neighbors bred worked to deliver postage across the rural countryside in lieu of mail pegasi. It was an interesting setup the elder ponies had running, and in return, they got a lot of goodies from ponies living in the neighboring towns. Hope reminisced fondly on the shipment of apple pies that Sweet Apple Acres would deliver in exchange for some of their goods. The sweet tang of those golden, flaky works of culinary art could still be conjured up even after all the years.

Nevertheless, his parents had been adamant that he find more suitable employment elsewhere. For a while, most figured he would find a job at one of the aviaries in the city, given that his cutie mark appeared one spring while working with birds. Hope glanced back at the lone swallow that adorned his flank as he flew through the city, still lost in thought.

Nearing the end of grade school, Hope had taken an interest in accounting, not unlike his parents had at his age. Nobody could argue his talent with numbers, but his parents were still firm that Hope abide by his 'true calling'. That was one of the biggest issues Hope had faced for the first couple of years after he got his cutie mark: what exactly did it mean? While many figured it meant he was good at tending to birds, something bugged him during those early years – at once a nagging sensation, then later a foggy notion. Sure, he had done a fairly decent job helping his neighbors tend and train the birds they raised, but for some reason, Hope had never felt that his cutie mark was directly related to that.

In any case, much as he hated to admit it so many years after the fact, that was the kind of work Hope longed for now: to do something hooves-on that connected him with the world around him. Working in the city for a paycheck, even if it was a handsome one, simply did not bring the same joy to Hope that working on his parent's farm and his neighbor's aviary had. His body longed for the warm sensation of a hard day's work, and to feel the wind under his wings more often.

There had been a point not long before he left for college that Hope had considered working for Whitetail's Weather Patrol, just as something to break the monotony of their slow fall seasons. Granted, finding an open position was nigh of impossible in such a rural area, as most ponies kept their jobs long-term. As well, the positions didn't pay much, but the benefits were good – and best of all, you were expected to use your wings and your hooves to work. It was the best of both worlds in Hope's eyes. But at the time, a desire to rediscover city life and secure a degree had been more prominent. He didn't regret his time spent in college, but Hope wondered what it would have been like if he had done things differently back then.

'What if I do things differently now?'

The thought struck him almost as if another pony altogether had spoken on his behalf. Wavering in the air above the populated street at a slow glide, Hope thought it over. 'There's nothing exactly holding me down now, aside from the boys.' Then, the image of a certain white mare behind a counter passed through his mind. A small smirk broke his contemplative expression.

Four blocks down from his now-former job, Hope swung an easy right and landed across the street in front of the train station, hooves clacking down on the concrete a little more roughly than he had intended. Quickly regaining his balance, Hope trotted up to Platform No. 7 and peered inside at the dimly-lit station.

“Ooooh, mister Hope the stallion returns!” Sally Pie stood up from her spinny chair and leaned on the counter as Hope made his way up. “Be forewarned: I expect a favorable answer.”

Hope grinned at the mare with a furrowed brow, a devil-may-care expression taking over his features. “One ticket to Ponyville this Thursday, please.”

The mare raised an eyebrow. “One-way, or round trip?”

With firm finality in his tone, he replied “One-way.”

Thursday, 16 October – Room 909, The Maresonia

“Are you sure about this?”

Hope nodded to Burly, then turned his attention to Chester. “The question is, will you guys be able to handle the new rent on your own?”

“Of course.” Chester nosed through his saddlebag for something while muttering “Just kind of short notice is all.”

“I know.” Hope ran a hoof idly through the back of his mane. “It's not like I planned to do this.”

“No duh,” Burly commented somewhat humorously as he took a seat on the living room sofa. “I gotta say though, it does sound pretty cool. Just going out somewhere new to spread your wings like that.”

“Chyea, and scary.” Hope noticed Chester had pulled out a paper of some sort from his saddlebag, hoofing it over to Burly. “What's that?”

“The lease agreement for the house. I picked it up today when I was in Foal Neck.” He paused for a moment as he glared at Hope. “Guess you're not signing on this time?”

Hope shook his head. “Not right now. Obviously I don't know how this will turn out, but you guys know me. I'm not striking out to abandon you.”

Burly breathed a loud sigh as he said “Yeah, we know. But I'm with Chester – this is really sudden. I just hope you know what you're doing.”

“Hope doesn't have a clue what he's doing,” he replied with a coy smirk. “But this is the first, and probably last opportunity, I will ever have the time, money, and resources to do something crazy like this. And all the old fogey's always say to do our adventuring in our youth. Might as well take one piece of their advice.”

The two stallions shrugged. “We'll keep the door open for you, just know that,” Burly reassured him. “We don't exactly need a third anyway, so we'll have an extra room available in case you change your mind – for a little while at least.”

“Thanks for that. Seriously.” Hope smiled as he looked over his two long-time friends. “Thanks for everything. Between you two and Tracer, I don't think I would have ever made it this far.”

Burly clambered up from his seat and wrapped his thick forelegs around the much thinner stallion, eliciting a small huff of air from the pegasus as he squeezed his friend in a tight hug. “Always. Bros for life, y'know that.”

“Love you, mate.” Hope struggled to form a smile as he glanced over Burly's shoulder at Chester, who remained fixed in place a few feet away from the stallions, not a pony for the touchy-feely stuff. “And love you too, Chester!” He gave the stout stallion a dramatic wink. Chester scoffed in response as he cantered away into the kitchen, flicking his short tail as he rounded the corner.

“Anyway,” Burly released Hope from the bone-crushing hug, “When does your train head out?”

“Two hours, but I'm already packed.” Hope suggested to a lone pegasus saddlebag sitting in the corner of the hallway. “The bedroom furniture's yours now. You can use it for a guest room or whatever.”

“You mean you're too lazy to have it hauled somewhere else, right?”

Hope stammered as he breathed a nervous chuckle, “M-maybe, something like that.”

“Ah, don't worry 'bout it. I've never known you to do anything out of the blue like this, so obviously it's a big deal to you. We'll hold down the fort.” The stallion placed a large hoof on Hope's shoulder, his eyes and tone communicating a gentle seriousness into his next statement. “You just take care of yourself – promise me that much.”

“I promise. You two will be the first to know how things are going, or if they don't.”

With that said, Burly gave the stallion a smile and one last hug before cantering into the kitchen.

Hope took the time to check through his saddlebag one last time to make sure he had all the essentials. Cosmetics filled one entire pouch, including his old mane-straightener and mirror-mountable blowdryer. In another were his different accessories, such as hoof bands and scarves, most of which he hadn't worn since his early college days. Two other pouches carried various knickknacks such as winter wear and survival equipment. It was a motley assortment of things seemingly unrelated to moving, but for all Hope knew, this would just be an extended vacation. Anything else he would need he figured could be found in Ponyville.

Truly, this was going to be an adventure for Hope, even if not in the same vein as what most ponies would consider an 'adventure.' The goal, ambitious as it was, would be to secure both a job that required physical labor, and either rent or purchase a place to stay for the foreseeable future. He had enough money between his bank account and loose bits in his saddlebag to secure a lease agreement, or perhaps place a downpayment. From what he had noticed during his time at his previous job, realty out west was experiencing a slump – the best time to look for a new place to settle down.

'Yeah, but I'm not leaving Manehattan to settle down.' Hope had to remind himself that as much as this felt like just another move, this was something different altogether. In two hours, the stallion would be heading off to an unknown town among unknown ponies with no one to keep him company. No friends. No family. No wife.

This would be his first real adventure as a grown stallion, all on his own.

A giddy sensation worked its way through his body as he secured the flaps over each pouch of his saddlebag, hoisting it clumsily onto his back and buckling it down around his barrel. He slipped his wings through the openings and stretched them as much as feasible in the hallway. Within a day's time, he would be able to spread them out over the open skies of some new land, neither too close nor too far from familiar places. Hope knew that Manehattan would remain a safe refuge in the company of his friends, and just a short distance west of Ponyville was his family's home outside of Whitetail. Surprisingly, it was the best location Hope could think of to trek out into something new. 'Can't believe that mare at the station picked it out herself.'

The next two hours blurred by as he bid his final adieus to his roommates and struck out for the train station, leaving behind one life to seek out another. But as romantic as the whole thing seemed at a glance, there still remained the objectivity of the situation: This was, for all intensive purposes, an experiment. Logically speaking, there was little likelihood that Hope would be able to secure both a job and a long-term place to stay in Ponyville within just a week's time. Sure, he could probably find a part-time job and negotiate with a local business owner to bunk down in a loft, but if he was going to do this, he wanted to do it right. Whatever the outcome would be, he was eager to see his adventure through.

Hope flew across town and down to the front of Platform No. 7. The evening sun cast a dark silhouette out beyond the iron archway, shading the platform in a dull shadow. But clear as Celestia's sun itself was Sally Pie, sitting at the counter, nomming away on a muffin.

“Ooh,” Sally Pie muttered with a mouthful as she set the muffin down on the counter. “Tonight's the night, eh?”

Hope nodded as a sudden chill of nervousness struck at the fibers in his muscles. “Y-yep. All set, ready to go.”

The mare eyed him over as she swallowed the rest of her muffin. “Ain't gettin' cold hooves now, are ya?”

“No, it's just… I can't believe it.” Hope let out a small, cleansing sort of laugh, working out some of the nervousness in his body. “I'm actually about to do something crazy like this. I never thought I'd see the day... Oh yeah,” he turned to his saddlebag and pulled out a ticket. “This is for you.”

“Thank ya sir,” she tucked the ticket away into a slip beyond the counter, then turned around to face another extension of the desk. “Here, I gots' somethin' for ya, too.” The mare procured a light brown envelope sealed with a grey stamp in the shape of a pie and hoofed it over to Hope. “When ya get to Ponyville, ask around for a pony by the name of 'Pinkie'. Give this to her, and she'll take care of the rest.”

Hope tilted his head as he examined the envelope, made out of thick stock rather than paper. “I'm guessing Pinkie's your cousin?”

“One an' the same. Can't say I've spoke to the mare much in recent years, but if she's anything like the Pinkie I remember, she'll be more than happy to lend a hoof.”

“Got it.” Hope tucked the envelope into his saddlebag and turned back to the mare. “You sure it won't come off as too strange or anything?”

Sally Pie gave the stallion a weird sort of grin. “I don't think that pony understands the meaning of 'strange'.”

Hope nodded hesitantly. “Whatever you say. Thanks again.” Casting a quick glance around the station one last time, Hope heard a nearby porter call out for passengers to board. “Guess that's my ride.”

“Well,” Sally Pie stuck a foreleg out from the booth and shook Hope's hoof. “Best of luck to ya, mister. Make sure to have fun out there!”

Hope nodded and smiled at the mare. “Will do.”

As Hope joined in with a small throng of other ponies, the porter shouted “All aboard for Ponyville! First stop in twenty hours!”

“Ugh, I forgot about that…” Hope groaned to himself as he unbuckled his saddlebag and threw it across a window seat. Looking outside at the rows of other train tracks, Hope braced himself for what would be the longest trip he had taken since setting out for college.

A minute later, a whistle sounded from somewhere beyond the cars, and the train began to slowly buck forward. Hope sat down and watched out the window as his car passed through the large train-house onto an open stretch of track, raised several feet above the ground that winded through the city. Once they crossed beyond the first corner, the Queensbridle Bridge came into view, silhouetted with sharp contrast in front of Celestia's evening sun. A small smile broke Hope's muzzle one last time as he placed a hoof gingerly on the window.

"Farewell, Manehattan."

Friday, 17 October – Outskirts of Ponyville

“Oh come on! It's not that hard!”

Rainbow Dash's frustration had reached its peak. Her wings flapped aggressively in the air, bobbing her barrel up and down in an unsteady hover as she glared at a dark blue pegasus in front of her.

“You're not my boss, so what's the big deal?” The stallion was hanging onto a small, dark cloud, appearing as if he were hugging it more than holding it – which only made the cerulean pegasus angrier.

“That's not how you do it, Squall. You're the reason we haven't even been able to get it to rain yet!” As brash as Rainbow Dash normally was, her ire had amplified it ten-fold, shaping her typically raw bluntness into sharp aggression. It wasn't that she wanted to hurt the pegasus' feelings, but enough was enough. For three months, she had put up with Squall's refusal to learn the ropes of handling Ponyville weather, having been transferred from an easier position in Las Pegasus. Weeks had gone by where Rainbow Dash had to do makeup work on his behalf just to keep the weather on schedule. She didn't mind doing favors, and she certainly didn't mind lending a hoof to someone who asked for help. But the pegasus in front of her was downright irresponsible. He didn't want a favor, nor had he asked for help. He was just…

“Don't look at me like I'm stupid,” Squall barked back at Rainbow Dash.

The cerulean pegasus shook her head as she pulled herself out of her angry fixation. If he wasn't going to listen, then she would just have to spot for him again. “Look, just let me have the cloud and I'll—“

“No,” the pegasus barked again. “I can handle this. Just, give me a minute and I'll take care of—“

“No you won't! I don't know if you haven't noticed, but I've been the one cleaning up your mess every time you put a cloud in with the wrong ones!” She turned toward a cluster of haphazardly intermixed storm clouds a couple hundred feet away from them, looming dangerously close to the Everfree. “You don't even put them in the right place half the time!”

Squall grabbed tighter onto the cloud and began flying toward the others. “Seriously, just let me handle it!”

Rainbow Dash darted past him and flared her wings, grabbing onto the other side of his small cloud and tugging it toward her. “No, I got this.”

“No, I do!” The pegasus pulled back.

“No, I—“ Suddenly, as each pegasus yanked at the same time, the storm cloud ripped down the middle, exploding into sparks of electricity and bullets of superheated water that ricochet off each of their bodies, knocking them out of their hover.

The two fell toward the ground, only buffeting their fall near the end. Both landed on their rumps with a loud thud onto a thicket of untamed grass. Rainbow Dash quickly made her way back to her hooves and looked overhead as the remnants of a perfectly good storm cloud, now a puff of steam and sparks, drifted toward the other clouds, as if seeking refuge.

Once Squall stumbled to his hooves, he galloped toward Rainbow Dash. “You featherbrain, look what you did!”

“What I did?!” Rainbow Dash's voice cracked more than usual. “How can you blame that on me! I was trying to keep you from screwing up again!”

Squall snapped. Lunging for Rainbow Dash's neck, the stallion fell flat on his muzzle as the cerulean pegasus side-stepped with remarkable speed, flaring her wings to hover overhead by just a few feet. Squall spread his own wings and flew after her in a hopeless attempt to catch the mare. As shocked as Rainbow Dash was that the pegasus would try coming at her, she found his attempt to catch her more entertaining than threatening.

Finally, after several shouts of obscenities and attempts to match her incredible speeds, Squall gave up. Giving into an idle surrender, he shouted “Do whatever you want, I'm out of here!”

“Fine, let the pro handle this!” Rainbow Dash shouted back, then mumbled “Ya big baby.”

As Rainbow Dash worked to smooth out the clusterbuck that was Squall's ill attempt at creating a storm, she thought about what would be the best way to handle the situation. Should she report him, or should she just hope that the pegasus would eventually give up and quit? The mare sighed as she wrenched a clump of darkened cloud matter out of the storm, causing bits of steam and sparks to dance between the separation. 'As awesome as I am, I can't keep doing this by myself', she thought to herself as she scanned the horizon for the best place to lay out the clouds. She let out a silent sigh as she flew southwest. 'I hate to do it, but… I'm probably gonna have'ta snitch.'

It took Rainbow Dash a full hour to fix the mess Squall had left behind. Celestia's sun was beginning to work its way toward the horizon as she finished, which meant she was near the end of her shift. Once she kneaded and pressed the various storm clouds together over Sweet Apple Acres, she gave the darkened blanket a swift kick, and the storm ruptured with a sharp bang, causing it to rain in perfectly even sheets below.

“That should do it,” Rainbow Dash said to nopony in particular as she wiped the sweat off her brow with a forehoof. Flying beyond the edge of the storm, she made her way down to the street just outside of Ponyville, letting her hooves drop down onto the soft dirt of the trail before trotting up onto cobblestone.

In all the years that Rainbow had worked on the weather patrol, she had never had to report a fellow employee. Sure, years ago there had been ponies back in Cloudsdale who had come and gone either for lack of interest or sheer irresponsibility, but Ponyville was much smaller. It was only her and four other pegasi – and to be perfectly honest, Rainbow Dash did 90% of the work most of the time anyway. She was fast on her wings and quick with her hooves – pegasi magic ran in her veins in a way that others could only ever dream, thus weather shaping came as naturally to her as spell casting did for her friend, Twilight Sparkle. But for all her skills and talent, she couldn't be expected to do all the work. And watching a fellow pegasus stumble along without a care in the world was not cool. Not cool at all.

Rainbow Dash pushed open the door to the Ponyville branch of the weather patrol, eliciting the ting of a bell overhead. A lone grey mare sat behind the desk, reading through a fashion magazine. Rainbow cleared her throat to get the mare's attention.

“Huh? Oh, hey Dash,” the mare set down the magazine and pulled open a drawer. “Need an advance again?”

“Nah, thanks though.” Rainbow Dash had grown to be widely respected amongst the staff of the weather patrol thanks to her devotion to work, and as such, she had used her notoriety to get advances on pay every so often to help out Pinkie Pie with different party arrangements, or when she decided to renovate her cloud home again. It was one thing to get an advance on pay, but quite another to try to use her position to push a more serious point.

Fidgeting her wings, Rainbow looked away from the desk and spoke with a slightly nervous tone, “I'm… actually here to talk about Squall.”

The grey mare's eyes grew wide as she silently glanced over her shoulder at a door on the back wall. Just then, Squall stormed through, his wings fishing in and out of his sides in wild agitation. He pushed past Rainbow Dash without looking at her and stormed out of the entrance without so much as a word.

Rainbow Dash's jaw hung loose as she watched the door swing close behind the pegasus, the innocent ting of the bell overhead the only sound penetrating the air. After a moment, she turned back and saw her supervisor walk through the back door.

“Well, that could've gone better,” the stallion muttered darkly. He walked up beside the grey mare and pulled out a drawer from her desk, digging around through some documents. “Rainbow Dash, what brings you here this evening? Looking for a show?” He looked up and shot half a smile to the cerulean pegasus.

“Heh, not exactly.” Rainbow Dash ran a hoof through the back of her mane as she bit her lip, trying to keep the awkward sensation in check. “S-so, what just happened? If you don't mind me asking.”

“Ol' Squall was too hot-headed for the Ponyville position, I suppose.” The supervisor found the papers he was looking for and tucked them under his right-most wing, then looked back at the grey mare. “Cirrus, could you let the DM know Squall will not be turning in a two-weeks notice?”

“Sure thing.” Cirrus sat down in her seat and pulled out a nearby quill, writing a short scribble down on the large calendar that made up most of the surface of the desk.

Rainbow Dash let out a quiet sigh of relief as the anxiety of having to report Squall bled out of her system. Now there was just the matter of finding a replacement. “So, d'ya guys know who's gonna fill his spot?”

Both pegasi shook their heads. “We don't have a lot of pegasi here in Ponyville," the supervisor said, "let alone ones who are looking for employment.” He let out a low snort as he turned back toward his office. “If you think of anypony, let us know.”

“You got it,” Rainbow replied as the stallion closed the door.

Cirrus crossed her forelegs on the desk and rested her head, letting out a sigh of her own. “You've got some crazy timing there, Dash.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” She walked over to the desk and leaned a foreleg on the surface, looking past Cirrus up at some photos of Ponyville's past weather-beaters. “Honestly, I don't know of anypony who'd be interested. Do you?”

Cirrus shook her head. “Not a soul. Looks like we'll just have to borrow someone from Cloudsdale until we find another replacement.”

Indeed, it seemed as if Ponyville's weather patrol had been struggling for several months to keep the fifth position secured. Squall had only been around for two months, and Gale only a few months longer before him. Pegasi seemed to come and go at a moment's notice, although Squall was the first to so recklessly abandon his responsibilities. Rainbow Dash pondered the situation silently for a moment.

After a few seconds, an idea crossed her mind. “Hey, maybe they can get one of the Wonderbolts' recruits to come out here for a while, call it extra training? They've done that before in Rainbow Falls, I think.”

“Uh, yeah, but they're a bit closer to the training facility. I doubt they'd lend anyone for us to use this far away.”

“True,” Rainbow Dash admitted with a tone of defeat.

“Hey, Dash.” Cirrus picked her head up from off the desk and looked up at the pegasus' magenta eyes. “Just so you know… we're not gonna leave you hanging. You're the best weather-beater this town's ever seen – probably the best the weather patrol has ever had.” Rainbow Dash didn't know what the mare was on about, but she certainly didn't mind the praise, puffing her chest out a little and smiling at her words. “But I know you can't do it all on your own. We'll find somepony who'll stick around one of these days. In the meantime, you just do what you need to do. We're not expecting you to make every end meet just because we're down a pony.”

“Ah, don't sweat it,” Rainbow Dash scoffed with an air of pride. “I've got this.”

Cirrus nodded with a smile. “Just don't push yourself too hard. We'll let you know when we find someone else, unless you beat us to the punch.”

“Sorry, I really don't know of anyone.” Rainbow Dash racked her mind just to make sure she was right. The only pegasus she really knew well in Ponyville was Fluttershy, and her job – albeit a bit ambiguous – was taking care of animals. And that was an all day, every day affair. “But I'll keep my eyes open anyway.”

“Thanks for that.” Cirrus redirected her attention to the fashion magazine as Rainbow Dash turned around and pushed the front door open.

“Ooof!” The glass pane of the door slammed into somepony on the other side. Rainbow Dash caught a muzzle smushed against the glass for a split second before it fell to the cobblestone below.

Rainbow Dash swung the door back shut behind her, the tingling bell mocking them from within. “Oh crap, sorry dude!” She leaned over the stallion who was already working his way to his hooves.

“N-not a problem.” As he brushed himself off, Rainbow Dash bit down hard on her lip, trying to keep from laughing. The stallion looked up at the mare and noticed her quivering. “Seriously?” He cocked an eyebrow up. “It can't be that funny.”

Rainbow Dash allowed herself to break out into a hearty laugh, getting it out of her system as quick as possible. “I-I'm sorry, I've just never seen that happen before!” She smiled, her body racked by the tremors of contained laughter, and extended a hoof to the stallion. “N-name's Rainbow Dash.”

“Hope.” He shook her hoof, returning the smile in earnest.

“Anyway, sorry again. Catcha later!” Without any further regard, Rainbow Dash continued on her way down the street, allowing herself to giggle a little under her breath.

The stallion shook his head and rubbed a hoof to his bleary eyes as he watched the cerulean pegasus take flight a few seconds later. Redirecting his attention to the door that had taken a liking to his face, he walked inside the Ponyville Weather Patrol.

Cirrus looked up from her magazine at the unfamiliar pony and tossed it noisily to the ground. “Ah sh– uh, hello there!” She laughed nervously, thinking frantically to herself 'Oh Celestia, please don't let it be a DM.' She stammered, “C-can I help you with something?”

Hope sighed as he walked up to the desk, casting a despondent glance at the bird that adorned his flank beneath his wing. “Maybe. Not very likely for a small town, I know, but would you guys happen to have any positions available?”

Cirrus blinked. “Um, what's your name?”

“Hope.”

“Well, Hope,” Cirrus grinned a wicked kind of grin. “Today must be your lucky day.”