Of Ponies, Death, and Teddy

The ever constant, billowing roar of thunder echoed throughout the dense cover of a dark and cloudy sky. Like a tsunami of blinding hatred falling from the heavens, the rain swallowed the world beneath its might in a tempest fury, urgently seeking a life to drown within its anger, and cursed the bravado of any who dared to stand before it.

A man without a choice sat alone behind the wheel of an isolated Fox truck, the impressive machine baring the brunt of the storm with a passive indifference. Across its metallic flesh the storm spat out all of its rage and malice, covering the object of its discontent in its diluted emesis. But the apathetic vehicle uttered no sound of protest or disgust and only stood resolute in its devotion towards duty.

The vehicle, like its passenger, was one of the sole first responders in a city that was home to more than one hundred thousand residence. Within its steel breast was housed a plethora of vital tools for treating the sick and injured. Her siren’s song boasted a wail that could be heard as far away as a mile, and her luminous lights could brighten even the darkest of nights. She served as the vessel of life, a beacon of hope to those who begged for her aid.

Yet like a forgotten sentinel, she and her driver were as unmoving as a cold stone, hidden behind the cover of a deteriorating building on the farthest reaches of town. Her mechanical heart idled in anticipation of an event that was not likely to occur on a day such as this. Nevertheless, the couple sat ready, eager to answer the call of those in need.

Having grown rather listless and bored in the hours he had spent alone, her companion had begrudgingly taken to the radio to ameliorate the monotonous sounds of the summertime thunderstorm. The dull twang of country music filled the cab of the truck as the man idly bobbed his head in time with the rhythm, occasionally singing along with the melancholic melody.

With only his truck to serve as audience to his opus, Teddy felt no reservation as he sang aloud, woefully off key in the high notes as his baritone voice struggled to reach them. Nevertheless, his efforts were far from deterred as from one song to the next, he sang out the melody to his heart’s content.

Having been left to his own lonely vices, Teddy thumbed at a small cylindrical can within his thigh pocket; a can of wintergreen Copenhagen, his favorite flavor among the various varieties of dipping tobacco available. While it was against company policy to use tobacco products while on duty, it hardly mattered to him; he was alone, after all. With no one but himself to bear witness to his infidelity, he produced from the tin a thick pinch of the suckling poison and positioned it within his hungering maw, delighting in its minty flavor as the powerful substance lulled away his ever present anxiety.

Awash in a sea of soothing endorphins, Teddy lethargically stared out of the windshield, allowing the various artists on the radio to sing solo for the time being. Outside in the sodden environment, there was little to see but the ever rising water in the streets and the occasional fodder traveling along the swiftly moving currents, forever lost to the storm’s fury.

In the hours that he had been posting, Teddy had not seen so much as a single soul bravely trying to transverse the torrential downpour. His communications radio had remained silent as the winter night, and his prowess as a paramedic had been rendered useless by a lack of the sick and injured.

While typically a good thing where the lay person was concerned, it only served to fuel the maddening sense of dullness associated with being alone without any variable task to be tended to, and Teddy sighed to himself.

“Nine hours and not a thing to do, eh girl?” He rhetorically questioned his stoic vehicle as he affectionately tapped the dash. “Looks like you and I won’t be needed tonight.”

It was only with a brooding boredom that Teddy reclined in his seat and continued to passively watch on as nature wreaked its unprovoked vengeance upon the city.

It was always in these desolate periods of inactivity that he would often long for some form of companionship. Normally a reserved and self sustained individual, he lived alone with no family to speak of. His closest relatives were all deceased; a product of the natural process of nature and the debilitating passage of time. The majority of those he considered to be friends either lived in distant cities or were generally indisposed of whenever he had time to himself, however fleeting that may have been.

Being a first responder meant he had no designated partner to ride with him throughout the streets of the city, and he had grown rather used to the solitude over a decade of arduous work. But sitting alone without so much as the productive distraction of his profession often brought to his attention the loneliness that he struggled so hard to keep at bay. It was a dense weight that bore upon his mind, and occasionally he found himself wondering what it would be like if he did have someone in his life to fill that vast void—a vain longing as he firmly believed within his jaded heart that someone like that did not exist in the world for him. He was a man married only to his job, and his Fox truck was his mistress. He needed no one else; no one was worthy of the devotion of his time. But in and of itself, the notion was hypocritical.

Teddy often viewed his life as sat upon a teetering precipice of irony. On the one hand he willingly devoted his time to people that he honestly had no true feelings for; and on the other, he secretly longed for some type of connection with them if only to experience the emotion that only another living soul could evoke.

At a time many years in his past, Teddy had been a warm man. A kind and compassionate individual, one that cared for the wellbeing of others just as he wished to be cared for. He had been fun loving and affable, the veritable life of the party as it were. He was an adept lover with a silver tongue and a bleeding heart…But he had been made cold by his years of service; so much so that in present days, no one person was ever special to him. His jaded heart no longer bled, his silver tongue had long since rusted, and compassion was reserved only for the select few. It was often these thoughts that made him believe that he was a good paramedic, for he truly was gifted in his talents. It liberated him from the emotional attachment towards others, and in that regard, he could treat anyone without bias or fear. Humanity was only comprised of biological machines, and he was nothing more than a glorified mechanic…

Teddy sighed through his conflicting emotions as he forced himself from his idle reverie. His thoughts were not something that he ever dwelt upon long, less he truly discovered the perilous feelings buried inside of him. Instead, he focused his attention towards his MDT, a small computerized terminal mounted to the console of his vehicle that displayed emergency call information, as well as the location of all other active units within the city.

In his hazy stupor he vaguely noted that most of the other units were either at their stations or posted far to the west, opposite of his eastern location. According to the real time data, the only unit to have run a call in the last nine hours was another Fox truck, and the incident had been filed as ‘no patient found’.

Another weary sigh escaped the man as it appeared to him that business would not be picking up anytime soon. And that made for a long shift, one that he was not but fifteen hours from the fruition of. Even at the completion of his aforementioned shift, he didn’t really have anywhere of significance to be on his own time. Just an empty house that was slightly too cluttered for his own liking, but he still lacked the drive to tidy its disorder.

A sudden explosion of light in relative proximity to his vehicle briefly attracted his attention; though, aside from a resonating boom that harshly assaulted his ears, little else had changed. His MDT briefly flickered in defiance to losing power, though soon succumbed to its mechanized death and displayed a black screen in wake of its end.

Teddy thought little of the device’s failure as it typically did falter under poor weather conditions. There were protocols in place for rebooting the device; however, given how tediously hectic the day had been thus far, he didn’t think it would be necessary. For all it had served him throughout his hours of posting, he didn’t need it to tell him that little of interest was going on.

“Fox Six!” But he had been wrong before as a garbled voice announced itself over the radio.

Rather languidly the man readjusted his seat so that he sat more professionally in his vehicle. “Go ahead.”

“Fox Six, need you to respond to Fiftieth and I-27 for an unknown medical.” The apathetic voice of the dispatcher replied. “And we are unsure at this time if this is going to be on the interstate, or down below on Fiftieth Street.”

“Received.” The Fox Tuck’s idling heart pulsated furiously within her metallic bosom as the inky darkness retreated against the shimmering luminescence of her dazzling red and blue strobes. Her haunting cry pierced the thunderous afternoon as her tires gripped the sodden pavement beneath their treads, propelling her forward through the maelstrom as she answered the call. “Show me en route, my MDT is down.”

“Received sir, have you en route at 1604 hours.”

The road before the man passed him by only as a piteous miasma of torrential monochromatic color. To his devout action, the storm raged furiously, raining down its seething hatred upon him with an unholy vengeance from above. The wind howled in defiance to his courageous audacity, menacing and threatening, seeking only to overturn his mechanical steed.

But she never faltered, not for so much as a moment, as she trudged so valiantly against the blackened rage that surrounded her. To the rain that blinded her, she wiped her eyes. To that hail that beat her, she shook it off. And to the wind that tore at her, her siren’s call only wailed louder. For all of nature’s malice, her strength was immutable.

She drove strong and true until her destination was in sight, and only then did she pause to catch her breath. As Teddy scrutinized the dreary intersection that was once Fiftieth and I-27, his eyes beheld only what he had suffered through for countless hours: A veritable flood of a raging storm’s spittle and the woebegone trash that drowned within its anger, and nothing more.

Far from discouraged by the bleary melancholy that surround him, the man reigned in his most trusted mare and ushered her onward, her thunderous heart roaring to life as she sped across the sodden blacktop. Her grip upon the earth was steadfast as her rider guided her to the rain-slicked on ramp of the interstate, and without a bated breath she climbed, unfaltering until the linear road was theirs to conquer.

But that was all that stood before them to take, that yawning blacktop that spanned for hundreds of miles; listless and lonely miles filled only with a specter’s callous misery. The only living soul that stood upon its heartless bosom was that of a dispirited man who had foolishly rushed to the aid of the frantic cries of a ghost. His perverse devotion to duty was all that remained of his resolve to push forward, guiding his steed along the barren road against all of hell’s unrighteous fury. And that fury delighted in his suffering; it taunted him, it mocked him. It spat upon him all of it loathing and cackled with malicious glee when only after a single mile did he come to a languid halt. Nobody needed him there, but hell’s fury already knew that…

“Fox Six…” He hardly gave the effort to conceal the misery within the droning baritone of his voice as he spoke through the receiver. His emotions were an amalgamation of ire and apathy, devoid of absolutely everything cheerful and warm as a nauseating sense of pessimistic hatred towards the spiteful world around him weighed upon his shoulders.

“Go ahead, sir.” It almost sickened him to hear the nigh cheerful indifference of the dispatcher as he replied to him from the cozy and hospitable confines of the communications center, feeling as though even he were deriving some twisted sense of pleasure from his suffering. But surly that was nothing more than the consequence of an already jaded mind misinterpreting an honest man’s benevolent tone for something more cynical. Surly…

“Dispatch, I’ve looked at both Fiftieth Street itself and up on the Interstate and didn’t find anything. I’ve even gone down about a mile and there still ain’t anything out here, so go ahead and show me clear, no patient found.”

“Received, sir, have you clear at 1615.” His tone was all but condescending, serving only to fuel the maddening ire burning within Teddy’s bosom. With every ounce of venom within his heart he silently cursed the man for simply living, for he had known that his efforts would be futile. He had sent him speeding through the bowels of hell for the simple fact that he could, and that infuriated him. Humanity was a sick and twisted thing in which even those who had sworn to help would strike an individual down for the sake of its own amusement.

Still cursing beneath his breath, Teddy maneuvered his mechanical mare about, vigorously ushering her along the road most traveled back to his dismal post. A seething reverie had stolen from him every bit of his worldly perception, and lost as he was within his nightmarish daydreams, his steed galloped free of her helmsmen. She ran just as wild as her thundering heart would let her. She ran just as fast as her legs could carry her. She ran in spite of her feet that slipped upon the sodden blacktop. She ran in spite of the yawning washout that hungered for her and her companion.

She lurched violently when the jagged teeth of hell’s open mouth tore ravenously into her legs. She stumbled in her once unfaltering stride, her treads screaming beneath her as her hold upon the earth failed her.

The man was helpless to spare them from their fate as his faithful steed careened towards the shoddy remnants of the interstate guardrail. Her haunting cries were abruptly silenced when her metallic body violently collided with the frailty of the barrier. Within her bosom, her charges, both mechanized and living, were tossed about like so much refuse; like dolls in the hands of a child.

The gruesome impact had left her rider torn and breathless, wounded and bleeding as his broken body clung to her reigns. As he struggled for breath, his mare struggled for equilibrium as she teetered upon the devastated rubble of the guardrail. Some forty feet below the hapless couple, the unyielding pavement called to them, beckoning them to embrace their untimely demise.

She fought so hard for the sake of their lives, that courageous steed upon which the man had rode so valiantly. But like the man, her body was beaten and broken. Her blood spilled out into the world from her fractured bosom in a river of oily gore as her heart began to falter. It was all too easy for her to slip away, to draw her last breath and fall into the hungering abyss; a cold soul that was no longer alive, but was never truly living.

Weightless overcame the man as his heart froze in the wake of his inevitable end. With the road below rushing up to meet him, Teddy thought of anything to comfort him in his final moments. But where most would cry, repent to their God, and apologize to the friends and family that they would never see again, he suddenly smiled as his eyes settled upon the one thing that could bring him humor.

The grotesque sound of buckling metal, shattering glass, and the sickening odor of mechanical and biological gore were all beset by the last image his mind would ever consciously recall. As a dark world came to claim him, the lone image of a street sign posted up high upon the traffic signal above burned vividly within his mind: Fiftieth and I-27.

And then Teddy’s world was gone from him forever.

***

It was a cool and gentle thing, that whispering breeze that twisted throughout the valley; that swept across the vibrant plains of flourishing life so softly as to imperceptibly dance within the flowing mane of a pony that walked along the cobbled streets of Ponyville. The radiant warmth of Celestia’s shimmering sun shined down upon the world from the clear azure heavens above; a tender kiss to the land that reveled in its embrace.

The quaint little town within which the mare strolled so languidly was vibrant and lively on such a beautiful autumn morning; townsponies gathered gaily within the town proper, immersing themselves in the throws of idle camaraderie and the peddling of their various wares. Somewhere amidst their harmonious lives, the little Pegasus wondered along; just another soul lost to the effervescent whimsies of life.

But it was a blessed life she lived—blessed in the sense that for every day given unto her by the divine Goddess above, she cherished it as something wonderful. Life in of itself was precious, and every moment afforded to her in the good graces of others was invaluable. It was a simplistic pleasure that she treasured dearly, for it truly was a benevolent gift; and she knew that once that gift was taken, it could never be given back.

Ditzy Doo had always valued her life—the lives of others—as something extraordinary. There was something magnificent to be had whenever one stopped to embrace how truly wonderful it was to be alive. Though her own life had been far from glamorous, filled with many trials and tribulations, she never faltered to see the grace that had been bestowed upon her. She was a simple mare, a kindly mare, a mare that took so little to be happy.

And on this day, Ditzy Doo was most certainly happy as she sashayed her way through the crowd, passively observing the townsponies amidst their carefree routines with a genial smile upon her lips. Bright eyes and wide smiles were adorned upon the countless faces that passed her by. The delightful tinkling of their mirthful giggles sung a saccharine chorus within her ears; no sweeter sound than that of harmony.

To her delicate senses, the ambiance of the town proper was filled with the lucrative allure of freshly baked goods that wafted ever so subtly upon the breeze; it was little more than a tease upon her pallet, an unspoken promise of something delectable to be had. The little mare’s belly rumbled in earnest to the intimately familiar aroma of muffins, her mouth instinctively watering at the simple thought of the lusciously scrumptious treats. Guided not by her eyes but by the acute intricacies of her finely tuned sniffer, Ditzy made herself slave to the scent, her famished little hooves carrying her just as fast as they could towards the hypnotic allure of sinful decadence.

A vivacious sojourn into the culinary staple that was Sugar Cube Corner smelled quite promising as the prevailing scent of palatable confections hung heavily within the air. The various countertops and displays throughout the bakery flaunted a plethora of only the finest sugary goods made by pony hooves. From towering cakes that loomed several heads taller than the average pony, to bite sized morsels scarcely larger than a hooflet bead, and every combination of pastry feasibly imaginable, all brought together to amass only the most hunger inducing concerto gathered beneath a single roof.

The maestro behind this devilish presentation proudly directed from her pulpit, set before her charges so that her keen baby blues oversaw every movement. Hers was a masterfully organized symphony of mouth-watering indulgence that played a vigorous, saccharine melody within the little mare’s nostrils, captivating her within its delicious whimsies. She suddenly found herself more than longing for a taste of the culinary prowess that the bubbly pink mare before her had to offer, and only upon fettered hooves did she humbly approach her.

“G-Good morning, Pinkie Pie, and how are you t-today?” Her innocent stutters were punctuated by the guiltless flaring of her nostrils as she inhaled the savory aroma of the bakery. “And might I say, it sm-smells wonderful in here!”

The affable earthen mare that was Pinkie Pie smiled gaily at her genial compliments, both implied and stated as she politely gazed at her recurrent customer from behind the counter.

“Why thank you, Ditzy! And I’m just as dandy as a lion in a garden that I am! Couldn’t have asked for a more beautiful day to be a baker! Of course, I would still bake even if the day was all bleary-weary and I was all saddie-waddie because, honestly, how can you be all saddie-waddie on a bleary-weary day when you’re baking yummy-wummy deliciousness?!”

A gentle tinkling of chortles arose from Ditzy’s smiling visage as she listened to Pinkie’s curious witticisms. However immature, however childish or naïve her quips and nuances were, they had always been innocent and sincere, an honest effort to fill the world of ponies that surrounded her with laughter and joy.

“Well that’s good to hear, P-pinkie! And I don’t know of many p-ponies that could be sad when you’re the one baking! I know I sure c-can’t! It’s like you b-bake joy right into everything you create; your special t-talent is a truly blessed one, not to m-mention appetizing!”

The baker before her giggled mirthfully, a delightful sound which carried throughout the confectionary with all the finesse of a tenured opera. It was so gentle and pure, like that of a foal’s; something that was as uplifting as it was joyful.

“Hehehe, well, I am ever so glad that my super awesome deliciousness makes you happy! That is what I’m all about, after all! To see others smile fills my heart with a shine that’s brighter than all of a week’s worth of suns put together! I absolutely live to make others happy! So, tell me, Ms. Ditzy, what can I do for you today to make you smile?”

Her kindly soul burned with a shining joviality that radiated joy towards the little Pegasus from behind her shimmering baby blues. It was nigh impossible for Ditzy to bar the smile from her lips in the presence of such a wondrous spirit, for hers was a spirit that embodied the goodness of everything pleasant in the world.

“To be honest, P-Pinkie, you’ve already made me smile!” She exclaimed. “But, if it isn’t too much tr-trouble, I would like some muffins if you don’t mind; p-pre-preferably some with blueberry filling? I’m afraid that their a-al-allure is just too much for me to resist! E-especially when they’re hoofmade by you, P-Pinkie!”

She had not so much as uttered her desires to her when from behind the counter the kindly baker produced a charmingly decorated package filled with the tantalizing allure of half-a-dozen, freshly baked muffins. Their succulent goodness wafted such a pleasant aroma into the air that kissed the little mare’s muzzle with a soft, familiar intimacy. While she lacked the wherewithal to know just how it was that the culinary enigma that was Pinkie Pie unfalteringly knew what she so desired every morning as to have it prepared and packaged before hoof was but a trivial concern. Her infallible foresight was simply another gift that embodied the beautiful soul of the mare before her, and it was something that she reveled in.

“There you are, Ditzy Doo! One order of plumpy-dumpy, steaming, muffinie deliciousness made with love from me to you! I put a few extra blueberries in them because they looked so hungry when I pulled them out of the oven; but now, I think they may need to go on a diet ‘cause, to be honest, they’re looking a little fat, but don’t tell them I said that!” She made a hushing gesture with her hoof as she winked at her companion, whispering, “They’re a little self conscious about their weight problems.”

Ditzy was helpless to arrest the laughter that escaped her lips in audience to Pinkie’s inane sense of humor. It was something that she cherished about her companion, something that made her all the more precious and adorable. Pinkie Pie promised smiles, and she always delivered.

“I’ll keep t-that in mind, Ms. P-Pie.” She replied through a tremulous strain of merry guffaws. “And I hope their b-burdens won’t become m-mine! My flank certainly wouldn’t appreciate that; it’s b-bubbly enough as it is! How m-much for the m-muffins?”

Pinkie tried in vain to stifle her flamboyant sniggers behind her hooves, understanding full well the implications behind Ditzy’s banter. Her bubbly cutie mark was, after all, emblazoned upon a derriere that was rather ‘bubbly’ in itself—bubbly here referring to the fact that her posterior was shapely and rounded, opposed to one being shapeless and flabby.

“Tehehe! Oh, Ditzy, you silly filly! You’re flank is super-Mcduper, fantasmagoric even! To be honest, I’m a bit jealous of how bouncy-wouncy it is!” Pinkie proclaimed whilst earnestly nudging the box of confections towards the furiously blushing mare’s hooves. “And these are on the house! After all, it’s the least I can do for somepony that shares laughter and smiles!”

For all of her flushing and seething embarrassment that Pinkie’s brazen candor had rendered upon her, Ditzy was nonetheless awed by the baker’s sincere generosity. In her hesitant and tremulous hooves, the little Pegasus gently took the luscious bundle and tenderly coddled it to her bosom. For but the price of a simple smile, Pinky Pie had given her an irreplaceable and precious fragment of herself; a scrumptious dalliance with her special gift to the world. And it was special, no matter its simplicity, for this blessed mare before her, this artisan of joy and happiness, had forged it with her own hooves through her own will, and had poured her very essence into her wondrous craft.

“Thank you, P-pinkie,” She uttered beneath a hushed breath as her shimmering eyes met with the baker’s before her, “You’re too kind; b-but I just have to repay you s-somehow! It wouldn’t feel right t-taking these on charity…”

But the affable mare before her only smiled and shook her head. “Don’t be silly, filly! You’ve already paid me for the muffins! Just as they will bring you joy, you have brought me joy! Seeing you smile and being able to bask in the happiness that you have brought to me is worth more than a few measly bits. So long as you remember to smile, that’s all I could ever ask for!”

She punctuated her utterance with an amicable nuzzle against the little Pegasus’s cheek and Ditzy flushed anew, overwhelmed by a bubbly pink mare’s open heart, and her love for spreading happiness to others.

“Thank you, P-pinkie, thank you. You truly are a wonderful friend and I am blessed to know you. No m-matter what happens today, I promise I’ll face it with a s-smile…F-for you.”

As she turned to leave, she cast a lingering glance towards the baker as she bid her a good morning, her smile radiating the eternal gift of joy that without even trying, she brought in bountiful supply to others. Such was her purpose in life, and there was no better soul in all the world to spread its wonders.

***

The streets of Ponyville proper were just as lively as ever, filled with a mass of congregating ponies and their delightful smiles as they mingled, forging the bonds that held the world of harmony together. They were such beautiful souls that Ditzy was fortunate enough to bear witness to, for their joy and happiness was as much theirs as it was her own.

As she trotted along in her wayward merriment, she could feel the warmth of life burning furiously within her tender bosom, and she reveled in it. It was such a glorious feeling, one that could not be surpassed by any measure, and one that was marred only by the ravenous hunger felt deep within her rumbling belly. But that was of an inconsequential matter for soon, the gift afforded to her by a beloved friend would quell that ephemeral ache, and sweet, decadent satisfaction would be hers.

In her stride, the landscape was changing, devolving from the quaint, pony-built structures of Ponyville into the lush fertility of mother Earth’s immortal flora. Her amber hued grace burned vividly from all around her—from high within the canopy of the towering trees, to low within the rolling waves of grass that gently licked at her hooves. It was serenity in its most passive and natural form, pure and untainted, quiet and peaceful, and there was harmony to be had within the silence.

Before a large tree aged well beyond her fleeting mortal years, Ditzy found her respite just off the beaten path. Against its hearty breast she sat and reclined, pausing only for a moment to close her eyes as the timber enveloped her within its tender mercies. The soft embrace of Gaia held her close, kissed her gently with every passing breeze, and whispered tenderly into her ear within the subtle melodies of the forest. It was tranquility, uninterrupted save for the voracious grumbling of her persistent hunger.

Burdened by her plight, though ever eager to taste the luscious sweetness of Pinkie’s labors, Ditzy gently took her delectable package upon her lap and opened it, marveling in famished awe at the aromatic morsels nestled within. They were the absolute epitome of culinary perfection. Each succulent, moist morsel was baked into the most ideal shade of golden brown that steamed ever so slightly in evidence to its freshness. They appeared light and fluffy, though plump around their middles, laden with blueberry filling that oozed ever so slightly from the pours of each one of them. It seemed that the affable baker had not been exaggerating; they certainly were in need of dieting, and Ditzy was all too happy to oblige! In a gentle, albeit zealous hoof, the little Pegasus grasped the first of her sugary treats and brought it to her hungering maw, savaging the delicate little morsel and savoring its moist, succulent flesh as its saccharine taste spilled across her tongue. She devoured it with abandon, like a ravenous beast upon its prey, tearing its fragile body asunder until not but a few crumbs remained as evidence to it having ever existed at all. Hypnotized by bloodlust—or sugar-lust, as it were—her next victim fell prey to her gruesome desires before it even had so much as the chance to feel the jagged teeth of death upon its body. As was its fate, so was the fate of its remaining brethren who each met with their scrumptious demise at the hooves of a famished predator.

Surrounded by the grim remains of ravaged muffins, Ditzy sighed in contented satisfaction, her once hungering belly now full with the decadent sweetness of Pinkie’s delicious confections. Beneath the aged oak, the mare gazed languidly upward, losing herself within the amber painted canopy, and the gentle lullaby that sang within the forest. It was so beautiful, so serene and majestic as the fragile leaves danced within the breeze; and the way the sun would peek through the branches like a golden fountain of light, transient and vibrant, was breathtaking. She had always felt like a blessed pony, but hardly more so than she did in this moment. To live and breathe in the harmony of the world was a wonder, one that was all too precious to her, and one that she was thankful for. It was so wonderful for her here, to be caressed by nature’s bounty upon such a glorious morning.

As her golden orbs began to feel heavy, her lids drooped low into her vision as Gaia slowly stole her away; and quietly, she drifted off into blissful sleep with a tender smile upon her lips.

***

It was dark…So very, very dark. It was oppressive and suffocating, immutable in its finality and infinite by its malevolent nature. Within its threatening maw the shining luminescence of light was savagely devoured, consumed to leave not but a yawning nothingness that spanned the reach of eternity. Even the passage of time itself was rendered lifeless by the horrid blackness of this stagnant hell. And for all the things that were lost within this eternal abyss, it was the very death of time that tormented him the most, for the very moment it had come to an end, Teddy had been consumed by the darkness. It was a thick, inky darkness, a desolate void of nothingness that consumed him, swallowed him whole to render upon him a terrible nightmare from which there was no escape.

Perhaps more frightening than the absence of everything tangible was the realization of what it was that had been stolen from him. His memories of life were still his own to cherish, though he cursed them for being so. Left as he was to rot in this cynical hell, his mortal life was his to view within his mind as though it was nothing more than a scrapbook, a colorful collage of pictures that served only to remind him of the things he no longer had.

They were so tortuously vivid, those precious thoughts of a living man, that had he only the ability to reach forth through the darkness, surly he could have touched that life and known what it was to live again! But that was only a fool’s dream; a hopeless longing. Within hell, one is not afforded such a luxury… Within hell, one is not afforded anything.

And he was damned, that much he was certain of. Within the abysmal darkness he had found a comfortless shelter, and within its eternal walls laid his remnants, fated to be alone forever. The horror of such a prospect filled the man with such a profound sense of dread that no mortal suffering of his own undertaking rivaled its rampant terror. It was absolute isolation, damnation to a hopeless void of nothingness where not even the celestial deities above existed. Even the subtle comforts of sin and evil were gone from this place, and despair existed only for the sake of one man eternally lost…Eternally alone. It was a monster more terrifying than any daemon the man had ever encountered, for this monster had no face, had no name, had no beginning, and had no end. To gaze upon it was to gaze upon the unfathomable emptiness of desolation and know what it was to be truly forsaken.

Against the cold embrace of darkness, the man panicked, thrashing invisible limbs within the void as though he were drowning in a pool of frigid water. He screamed aloud in his terror, a bloodcurdling sound which pierced the veil of blackness only to return to his ears as a haunting testament to his fear. The horror of hearing his own disembodied cries of anguish filled him with an insurmountable sense of dread and nourished the rampant panic coursing through him. Again and again he cried out against his fright, pouring his once mortal essence into each frantic scream until his voice finally failed him. As the resonant echoes of anguish were swallowed into the nothingness, Teddy stilled the frantic extremities he could not see, and alone, he sulked to himself.

“I’m sorry.” He uttered into the void. “For what I’ve done that can’t be forgiven, I’m sorry. If I am at all deserving of mercy, then please, I beg of you, don’t forsake me here. I know I was cold, I know I was heartless; but please, I can’t stay here forever. I see now what true emptiness is, and I can’t bear it. So please, take me anywhere but here! A-anywhere but h-here…”

But the darkness gave no heed to his plea as his words died within the emptiness. In his mind, Teddy wept bitterly, frightened of the agonizing loneliness that bore upon him. This was his fate, doomed as a forgotten soul adrift through a sea of encumbering blackness. However cold he felt, however lonely, there was nothing there to comfort him now. How bitterly did his heart ache for himself, to be rendered a ghost in a land without light? How bitterly did he long to hear the voice of another, if just for that voice to tell him that it would be alright…

Trembling like a child lost within the world, Teddy closed his eyes as he held his ethereal body close, and quietly he drifted through the void, a wounded soul torn and lonely without so much as a prayer. He thought of his life, of all the things he had done in the service of others, and all that he had sacrificed in the name of a thing called duty. He realized only then, and far too late, that he had never truly lived at all. There would be none who would miss him, none who would look for him, and none who would weep for him. He had been alone in life, and now, he would be alone in death. His eternal suffering would serve as his only companion, and it would be everlasting in the contemptible hell of the darkness.

A muffled sob escaped his lips as the man slowly rocked himself, seeking some transient comfort that he knew did not exist, but desperately believed in. And within an act so infantile, so subtle that it would seldom pacify a crying infant, he found a remarkable sense of hope, for indeed it felt warm. It washed over him like a gentle rain, baptizing him within tepid waters that cleansed his fears. It chased away the darkness, lashed out at the cold blackness of hell with a luminous divinity that shattered its malice beneath its pious might, leaving not but the ashes of his nightmare aloft in the silent world.

Tenderly then was the man taken unto the bosom of faith, cradled by the arms of hope that were so full of love and empathy. They were his shield against the darkness, a bastion of safety that guarded his fragile soul from the evils that threatened him. And only then did he realize that he was truly held in the embrace of another, for as he willed his body still, it continued to gently rock from side to side. Against this hallowed presence, this sacred being of warmth and mercy, the man opened his eyes to find that he was no longer alone in the nothingness, but in the company of benevolence.

“Hello Theodore, I am glad to have found you.” It spoke without words, through lips that did not part to allow their passage. It spoke with a smooth baritone so rich with compassion and grace that absolved him of the tremulous fears tearing at his heart. And when it smiled, Teddy wept, for such munificence had never been for his eyes to see. It was no mortal that had found him, but the effervescent soul of an angel. In its semblance it came to him, not as a human, but as that of a winged Equine, a pale stallion from beyond the nether to deliver him from evil.

“I am so sorry, dear child, for leaving you lost and alone. But, know now that I am with you, Theodore, and will never abandon you again…” The winged Equine drew the man closer to its bosom, and he gasped against the wetness that stained his cheek, for it was not his own tears that he felt there. “You were jaded, child, jaded by a hopeless world that scarred your heart. You forced away the love of others until it broke your soul and you were left to rot. And in the end, when all you had was the comfort of death, I, dear child, lost you, and for that, I am sorry.” The omnipotent creature shuttered against the man, and it was all he could do just to let the angel weep against his mortal flesh. “I, Theodore, am Thanatos, and I have come for you at last.”

It was that whispered utterance, that final breath against his ear that made the man aware of such a powerful revelation. It was no ordinary angel—not that by any means was any angel ordinary—that had come for him, but the angel of death himself. He who controlled the fate of all living things, he who commanded the ethereal powers over life and death, he who was the immutable end of life, he had come for him, and he had wept for him. Thanatos had wept for him…

It filled him with such a profound feeling of graciousness and hope, of love and a tender warmth that sparked within the cold. It ignited the remnants of his devastated resolve, a resolve that carried him throughout countless years of loneliness and heartache, a resolve that tirelessly came to the aid of others when they cried out to him in their darkest hour, and gave him the strength to embrace the forlorn angel of death. Much as he had held the man, Teddy too held Thanatos, and together they cried until the tears could flow no longer.

“Even now,” The angel whispered into his ear, “after all that has befallen you, you still find it within yourself to comfort another. I have seen your benevolence, Theodore, and now I have felt it too. No matter how cold your jaded heart, your unwavering desire to prevent suffering has never faltered. It is that which has saved you from damnation, dear child, for this darkness, this eternal void of loathsome nothingness was never meant to be your fate. It was I who failed you and left you to become lost within the darkness of your soul. And it was a grievous mistake that I wish to rectify, if only you will let it be so?”

The man stood motionless, silent against the angel’s words as he could do nothing more than hold him closer. How could it be that this righteous being, this faultless deity of absolution and divinity, of almighty grace and power, blamed himself for his own mortal sins? The very sins that had given birth to the darkness that had consumed him and condemned him to despair? How could one so pious be at fault for the transgressions of a mere mortal man? Thanatos was blameless, guilty only of feeling guilt for a soul that had ultimately destroyed itself, and Teddy would not let this angel suffer in his name.

“Thanatos,” The man uttered, “if it eases your heart, know that I don’t blame you for anything. If the darkness was nothing more than the emptiness in my own soul, then I have no one to blame but myself. I can’t pretend to know how it is that you manage the souls of the deceased, but I can only imagine that they are countless and needy of your guidance. To lose only one of the many is hardly something to be disappointed about. And I don’t much care for the pity you place on me, because when I cried out in despair, you came for me. You found me and delivered me from that nightmare. If anything, Thanatos, I am grateful, and hardly worthy of any mercy that you have for me...”

And then Teddy’s breath all but left him as within a moment most tender, the angel of death nuzzled his neck. It was not the affection of one that sought only to mollify the wounds of anguish, nor was it the touch of sympathy that was given out of sorrow. No, that touch, that lingering nuzzle of warmth and compassion was one born only out of love. Sincere, genuine, honest to God love that left the man reeling against a miasma of conflicting emotions. To be held so tenderly by such a devout creature was in and of itself a remarkable experience that easily transcended any grace that he had ever come to know. Were his heart still beating it surly would have ceased within the elegance of this beautiful moment. It was as though he had become weightless, nothing more than a feather aloft in a tranquil breeze carried along the gentle currents of its ephemeral whimsies.

And yet to know that this being, this angel, was truly the avatar of death instilled upon him a vast sense of trepidation and moral uncertainty. This was Thanatos, the very reaper of souls, who had timelessly been depicted as an effigy of terror that appeared to his victims as a heartless daemon of suffering and torment. It was he who was supposed to drag the souls of the damned down into the festering bowels of hell to leave them to the petulant enmity of the devil. His was an omnipotent visage of fear and doom, hopelessness beyond all redemption! Why then in the company of this pale stallion did he feel nothing of the horrors he had so expected of Thanatos to bring? Had humanity been so blind, so wrong in their judgment of this angel to perceive him as something so terrible? Or was it plausible, perhaps naïve, to assume that such an immortal deity truly loved him, and by that love alone sought to give a mortal man the absolution he was not deserving of…By that notion, was he somehow special to this angel?

“Dear child,” Thanatos whispered, “To lose but a single soul so precious to the abysmal purgatory of nothingness is the quintessence of absolute failure to one entrusted with such an obligation. It was I who was supposed to be there for you in the end, and regretfully I was not. If one here is not deserving of mercy, then it is most certainly I, for I abdicated my duties towards you. So stow your gratitude for my belated coming as you have been lost for far too long to be in reverence of me. I wish you only to know that I shall never depart from you again, and shall set right what I have so grievously wronged…”

Nestled within the stalwart hooves of the ethereal angel of death, Teddy was nothing more than a hapless specter, awed by the sudden and insurmountable might of Thanatos as by his will alone the luminous void of eternity gave birth to a splendid and majestic world of kaleidoscopic color. Ambiguous blots and enigmatic shapes swirled from beneath the duo, to high above them, and well within the farthest reaches of the nether, slowly coalescing to form something more wondrous than anything the man could have ever imagined.

“…Life, Theodore. It is that which was stolen from you, and it is that which I wish to give unto you again.” Gently, the angel pushed Teddy away, leaving the man feeling unusually cold as they stood apart. “I must profess, however, that the world as you knew it has long since been nothing more than a memory, dear child. It is only with my deepest sympathies, Theodore, that I tell you…Humanity took its last steps many centuries ago…”

Teddy suddenly felt so much colder in the wake of Thanatos’ confession, and any reverence he held for the world that surrounded him became inconsequential. Mankind, for all of its trials and tribulations, for all of its triumphs and achievements, was gone, taken during his absence within the darkness countless years ago. And for all the time he had known nothing but loneliness, he had never felt more isolated than he did in this moment, for he realized now that he was truly alone.

The man shuttered suddenly, violently, as within that horrid realization of truth came a sickening feeling of dread and panic not unlike what he found within the darkness. It assaulted him like a malicious bandit, cutting the sacred warmth from his heart with the steely daggers of loathing and anguish. The fear began to creep over him, slowly smothering the light from his eyes as the blackness consumed his vision…

And yet before it could take him, before he could succumb to the frightening emptiness of the nether again, Thanatos swiftly stole him away, and suddenly the cold dark crumbled beneath the familiar warmth of the angel’s bosom.

“And now you know the severity of my transgressions, dear child, for there is not now, nor will the ever be, a mortal soul such as yourself again. Nirvana for humanity has passed you by, Theodore, and for failing you as I have, I cannot guide you to that paradise; you have simply been lost for far too long.” Within the angel’s tender hooves, the man shivered, shaken by the terrifying uncertainty of his fate; but Death was quick to console him. “Fear not, child, for I have an ultimatum. I can resurrect you, my precious Theodore, unto the world as it is now. I can grant you the subtle peace of mortality again so that you may know what it is to enjoy life. I honestly believe, child, that you would find comfort within these unfamiliar mortals, just as I have. Theirs is a wondrous philosophy of peace and harmony, one in which transcends their own worldly desires to reach unto the heavens. As I have changed to their will, I believe that you too are capable of finding your own solace there. I ask only that you would be strong for them in times of strife, compassionate in times of sorrow, and steadfast in times of hardship. Promise me this, Theodore, and by my will, you will live again! Promise me this, and I will take you away from the nether!” The pale stallion subtly pulled away from the man so that he could gaze upon his countenance. “Please, Theodore, do this so that we may both find peace. Do this so that I may save you! Please…”

For many moments, the man was silent as he regarded the devout angel before him, and suddenly he wept for the sake of his grace. While he could not at all fathom why it was that Thanatos, the virtuous harbinger of death, so righteously sought the redemption of a mere mortal man, he was none the less moved by his selfless commitment towards his being. He had given unto him the chance at something more precious than he had ever known, and if all but for the price of his word, his promise to uphold this pale stallion’s wishes, he could hardly refuse him.

“T-Thanatos…” The man managed only at a whisper. “I promise I will be there for them…Just as you were for me.” The angel was helpless as before he could utter but a single word, Teddy had surrounded him within the warmth of his arms, holding him close to a mortal body that quaked in time with his quiet sobs. Against this man’s impressive bosom, death smiled as a single tear rolled down his pale cheek.

“Thank you, dear Theodore, for you do not know what relief you have brought upon my soul. I will be with you always as you walk your path through life again. And when it is that you are ready, I will be waiting for you on the other side, for you are my child, and I will never abandon you again.” The pale stallion gently nuzzled the man’s cheek, coddling him for the final time. “Close your eyes, dear child, and awaken from the dream…”

Of their own volition, Teddy’s lids gently closed about his eyes, and in but the breath of a single moment, he was gone, cast free from the void by the pious might of a selfless angel.

…Nunc vale…Mea lux...

***

In the tranquil ease of a quiet forest, a young Pegasus mare was softly dozing. The waning light of the evening sun had set fire to the once azure colored sky, burning a vibrant, orange silhouette across its infinite canvas. A gentle melody hummed throughout the woodlands, carried along the turbulent currents of a spirited wind as it danced across the treetops.

Ditzy slowly stirred to the sounds of the world and the tender kiss of Gaia upon her cheek. She yawned widely without shame or recourse as her nimble little hooves stretched high above her head, her wings fanning outward as her joints groaned against the tension before settling comfortably back into place. A soft sigh escaped her lips and she smiled as her iridescent, golden eyes opened to gaze upon the beautiful twilight before the night. And it was remarkably beautiful, to see the world bathed in the warm reds, oranges, and yellows, splashed by a dash of lavender upon the periphery of the horizon. How splendid and remarkable the colors of the world truly were to create something so intimate, so moving and glorious that could instill such rapture in the hearts of those who would gaze upon its greatness. Such a portrait was the quintessential essence of romance and love, the backdrop behind all hearts which wished to grow closer to one another. And within this romantic atmosphere, this wondrous land of color and bliss, Ditzy suddenly found herself all alone…

A fragile smile shattered like glass from her lips as an unsettling thought she’d struggled to bury all her life suddenly surfaced like the undead come to feast upon her vulnerable flesh. And its’ was a ravenous hunger that could never be satiated upon her body alone, for no matter how many times it had come to ravage her, its voracity had been undeniable. It tormented her ceaselessly, taunted her with the haunting echoes of the past; a past filled with countless, unrealized endeavors of the heart. Cruelly it spat the scathing words of rejection down upon her, reminding her that she was a burden, too comical and senseless to forge a lasting relationship with. She was nothing but a walleyed freak, a failure with no special somepony to call her own…

She sniffled suddenly against the tears that no pony would see. She trembled within her own hooves for no pony would hold her. She cried upon her own shoulder for no pony would lend her theirs. She held the fragile pieces of herself for no pony would help her pick them up once they were broken. And she put herself back together, just as she had always done, for no pony else would. She buried the monster back within its shallow grave and she stood to her hooves, trembling as she walked away from the colors of twilight. Upon her delicate lips, Ditzy bore the façade of a brave smile, something beautiful to share with the world for the sake of a promise made to a kindly baker, even if it was a lie. Certainly she had friends that cared for her, friends who were special and wonderful; friends that held an extraordinary place in her heart.

But were not all ponies made to be intimately loved? Did they not yearn for the touch and companionship of another? Somepony in which dark secrets could be confided in without fear of doubt or judgment? Somepony as devoted and caring towards another just as she was to them? Would her divine Goddess above truly instill such feelings in a pony and then deny her what she so desperately longed for just to watch her suffer? Or could it be that that in of itself was somehow a blessing, to never know of love and thereby never know the anguish of losing it? Yet why then would she be made to love if none would love her in turn? Why then was she damnably alo…

…Crack!

She shrieked.

It occurred before her then without cause or pretense, with little due regard for her proximity or of the melancholic dialogue within her mind. It appeared simply for the sake of being there, immutable and impassible, as undeniable in its presence as it was luminous by nature. It was utterly chaotic, shining brighter than Celestia’s jewel before becoming blacker than a starless night and then back again. It howled in the defiance of nonexistence, a sound far deeper, far more ominous than even the most deafening boom of thunder from the heavens. It lashed out at the world with ethereal tendrils that scarred the earth beneath their ephemeral touch, scoring jagged rivets deep into the ground. It was at the same time warm and dreadfully cold, palpable only as a feeling rather than something truly tangible. To gaze upon it was both mesmerizing and undeniably terrifying; it was as though she was peering into the vast emptiness of all things whilst the vast emptiness of all things peered into her.

She could not breathe; it was so hard to focus. When did it become so cold; why was she burning? She could not move; she was numb! It was so bright; how did it become so dark? She felt safe; she knew only fear. It felt so good; she hurt so much! Somepony was screaming. It was so empty; there was so much inside! She had love; he had none…

Crack!

It was gone. The screaming had ceased. Air suddenly filled her lungs. And it was only then that Ditzy realized that the haunting cries of terror had emanated from her own throat. Her eyes still burned from the piercing luminescence of the enigmatic anomaly. Her ears rang with the shrill chorus of sharp tones, deafening her to the sounds of the world. She was trembling, unable to move a single muscle save for her heart that nervously hammered within her quivering chest. Whatever apparition had appeared before her, it had vanished just as suddenly as it had appeared. It had left little evidence in wake of its fleeting existence; a few callous scores upon the earth that would be erased in time, a dazed, confused, and hapless mare that was its sole witness, and something that far transcended the realm of the unique, unusual, and downright strange…In the wake of an enigmatic impossibility, Ditzy Doo was no longer alone.

She blinked furiously against the ambiguous blots that clouded her vision, desperate for the clarity of an otherwise opaque world. She rubbed her eyes against the fetlock of a hoof, vigorously shook her head, and earnestly willed the dark, malformed spots away until they lingered no longer. And yet, when she again opened her eyes, she found that the stagnant sight of the most imposing obscurity had not dissipated at all; rather, it had only become clearer, and for a once amorphous shape, it had taken the form of a most remarkable creature. Her jaw suddenly became slackened, her hooves too heavy to move, and her thoughts too distorted to understand as she gazed upon the countenance of this most peculiar, yet wondrous beast! It was so undeniably intimidating, statuesque in stature and positively rippling with a fearsome musculature that strained against the taut threads of its most unusual garb. It utterly radiated the thick and heady scent of masculinity, something that was as easy to detect as it was extraordinarily placating. His was a visage of absolute power, strength that was undeniable even as he lay unconscious before her hooves.

It was so easy for her to become captivated by this ethereal stranger, this supernatural manifestation of something impossibly magnificent! Something as surreal as it was factual! He was splendidly bizarre, a creature that should not exist and yet by some unfathomable magic did! He was mythology come to life, a beast chronicled by Equestrian scholars to be the product of nothing more than the whimsical fancies of a bygone generation. And yet there he lay before her befuddled eyes; a human, no more transparent than the world that surrounded her.

But was this creature, this mythological human, as it were, truly real? Was he truly of corporeal essence, as tangible in existence as she herself was; or, was he perhaps little more than the product of a very imaginative mind that had suddenly been shocked by what was a rare, but feasibly natural phenomenon? If she were to raise a hoof to his body, could she actually touch him, or would it simply phase through him like a mirage and suddenly render him nonexistent? Acting only to appease the naivety of her curiosity, the little mare broached the supine beast, her timid hooves trembling as they gradually guided her to within inches of the slumbering man. She could scarcely breathe, her anxiety palpable as her heart hammered painfully within her chest. Her pupils constricted, the sweat dripping from her brow as a faltering hoof reached out only to halt a mere breath away from certain contact. She gulped as she steeled herself against the terrifying uncertainty, and in the reckless blink of a moment, she closed her eyes, reached forward, and gasped.

“Y-You’re r-real!” She exclaimed hardly above a whisper as her hoof gently caressed the warm and palpable flesh of the man’s cheek. “O-Oh my g-goodness! I c-can’t believe you’re r-real!” She squealed in excitement, unable to contain her mirth as her curious little hooves roved over the human’s unconscious body, marveling at the novel feel of his alien anatomy. She was awed by the rugged contours of his exquisite musculature as with every subtle prod it contracted delicately, albeit ominously. She gasped and giggled when she discovered a particularly sensitive area just beneath one of his massive arms, prompting the human to shiver and twitch as though he were ticklish. She was utterly helpless against her own indulgences, granted such a rare and mystical opportunity to feel that which had never been felt by pony hooves before! And all the while, the man remained unmoving and oblivious, obstinately slumbering away despite her tactile meddling.

Tehehe! Oh my, you’re rather soft in some places, aren’t you! Forgive my intrusion, but you truly are a wonder, Mister Human. To think that I would ever be afforded this rare and extraordinary opportunity is nothing short of miraculous! Even now, as I touch you, as I see you, as I smell you, I struggle to comprehend your very existence! For by all accounts, magical or otherwise you, Mister Human, should not be real. You should be nothing more than a myth, an imaginative creature of pony fantasies; any yet, here you are, beneath my hooves, just as tangible as the world around me. I wonder then how it is that you came to be here, Mister Human. Is it that you have always been here, hidden amongst the flora, hiding from the world until being made visible by some cosmic rift in reality? Or, could it be that perhaps that cosmic rift was the result of your birth into this world? And if such is the case, Mister Human, I cannot help but wonder if there are others like you; or is it that you are all alone here, and have no pony to call a friend? …

Silently as she mused to herself, Ditzy gently brushed her hoof across the slumbering man’s cheek. And in doing so, suddenly the hulking leviathan seemed somehow delicate, vulnerable even as he instinctually turned his head against her maternal caress, muttering something indistinguishable passed the wanton smile upon his lips as he nuzzled her. How tender was this moment that a giant had found comfort within the subtle affections of a pony? That a being of such terrifying stature could be so impossibly docile, foalish even beneath the warmth of her touch. How remarkable was it that even he was capable of such gentleness, when by his countenance alone he was so undeniably intimidating?

Oh, Mister Human, for my sake I pray that I am not being too bold in the assumption that you are a creature of understanding and love. That even one so fearsome in nature needs the companionship of another. I pray that you are a friendly soul, Mister Human, one that may come to experience the joys of friendship. As you nuzzle my hoof, I can only hope that you are imagining warm things; things that bring you comfort, whatever they may be. You are so very special, Mister Human, for you are unique beyond anything known in this world, and I feel remarkably blessed to have found you first. How I wish that you would awaken so that I may be given the chance to know you; to learn about you just as you could learn about me. Perhaps we will find ourselves kindred spirits destined to meet on this day. Or perhaps something darker will befall me at your mighty hand, though I fervently pray against it. Yet regardless of whom ever it is that you are, we shall only ever be strangers so long as you sleep…

Upon her haunches, Ditzy rested at the side of the slumbering human, her smile and radiant eyes a reflection of the unusual tenderness with which they shared together, if only by a man’s cataleptic impulses, and the naïveté of her kindly spirit. The moment was timeless, spanning through countless infinities as only minutes passed them by. There was so much that the little mare desired in those moments; but, they were desires gone unfulfilled as the man lay still upon the ground, oblivious to her and all of existence, caressed though he was. She stifled a giggle at the fleeting thought that perhaps this was all there was to a mythological humanity, a creature born unto the world ostensibly unable to wake.

And suddenly a cold shiver ran down her spine as Ditzy paused to at last consider the profound peculiarity of her situation. Her excitement and adoration for the being before her was abruptly snuffed out, suffocated beneath the looming hand of dread. Before her was indeed the living facsimile of a myth, flesh and blood, alive though unmoving, and she was all alone by its side. She was alone to interact with it, alone to hold and caress it, and ultimately alone to care for it as it was so obvious incapable of caring for itself in its present condition. But what then was she to do with this living goliath, this herculean beast of statuesque proportions? It was simply unfathomable to think to abandon him, to surrender him to the mercy of the woods where only her Goddess above knew his fate. And yet his facade was so overwhelmingly large, heavy and thick, his body much too cumbersome for the lone mare to carry to safety. To leave the man was to doom him to the whimsies of the world and yet to spare him was an impossibility on her lonesome.

The little mare groaned as she frenetically twirled her head about, searching in earnest for anything within the woods that would provide her with the crucial answers that she so desperately needed. She ardently prayed to her Goddess above for the fleeting miracle that would save this man life! Hopelessly frustrated, she even turned to her own fractured mess of thoughts for guidance; however, rampant disbelief and terror were hardly ever of any use to anypony, and the silence of the elements, both ethereal and natural, was deafening.

Ditzy lifted her hooves to her blonde mane and tugged it in despair. If only she had somepony there to tell her what needed to be done! If only she had somepony for guidance! If only she had somepony to help her!

Somepony to help her... That last desperate thought echoed throughout her mind like the Goddess given answer that it was. That was what she needed! If she had somepony there to help her, then surly the two of them would be able to do something for the human! Yes, of course! She knew now just what she needed, and just who it was that she would beseech for help.

With the unfurling of her wings, Ditzy became airborne and cast an uncertain glance back towards the sleeping human. “Don’t go anywhere, f-friend, I’ll be right b-back!” And with that she was off, utilizing all the due haste her wings could muster as she soared towards the only pony she could think of to aid her: Twilight Sparkle.

***

The day had been all but glorious as Twilight had spent much of the afternoon within her library, studiously studying several of the multitudes of tomes that she had at her disposal. Hers was a brilliant mind that hungered for knowledge, an indomitable passion for intellect that was positively insatiable.

She was a gifted unicorn--gifted in the sense that her proclivity for magic had imbued her with natural talents that superseded most others--and her perilous control over the supernatural power had placed her under the direct tutelage of Princess Celestia, the all powerful Goddess that co-ruled over the vast land of Equestria.

Utilizing her ethereal abilities, Twilight levitated several tomes about her head before carefully returning them to their fastidiously organized locations within the various bookshelves that adorned the walls of her library. It was an otherwise spectacular feat to witness, had there actually been anypony there to witness the act. Though flaunting her talents had never truly settled well with the lavender pony. To some degree she honestly feared being too prideful where her magic was concerned. She thought of herself as humbled and learned, and only wished others to think the same of her. Yet they rarely did. Stories of her exploits as the apprentice of Celestia, as the Element of Magic itself, burned through the small town like wildfire with such intensity that no amount of watery reservation could ever hope to douse. It had made her somewhat of a celebrity to the townsponies and while she was flattered by their praise, she found it all most unwarranted. As far as she was concerned, she was just another mare who had dreams just as any other pony did, and only wanted to be treated as such.

Sighing wistfully, the lavender pony stood to her hooves and sauntered over to an open window where she paused to gaze up into the evening sky. The orange and amber hues above burned with the gradually waning light of day, painted upon an open canvas with only the most masterful of brushstrokes. Her view was vast and unobstructed, mesmerizing even without a single cloud floating listlessly by. It was beautiful, a culmination of Celestia's efforts as the Goddess of the Sun to give only her best to her little ponies.

And yet, as she gazed in pensive awe of the heavens, a most peculiar sight attracted her attention. Initially it was not but a small thing, a grey spec lost upon the horizon. It was much too small to be a cloud, and it appeared to be moving with a vested measure of haste. With every passing moment, the queer object became gradually larger and larger until, to Twilight's studious eye, the unidentifiable object gained form. It was a Pegasus; a grey Pegasus. An astoundingly familiar grey Pegasus...

Is that…Ditzy Doo? She hardly had time to ponder the thought before the mare in question came upon her front door rather quickly—quickly in this instance referring to the fact that she was moving much too fast to arrest her momentum in time before she collided with the door head first.

The clatter that arose from the poor mare’s impact caused Twilight to subconsciously wince as she vicariously experienced an unsettling amount of discomfort. And hearing the pained whimpers from beyond the door certainly wasn’t helping matters. She had to admit that she was rather concerned about the Pegasus; she had struck the door so hard after all, it was quite impressive that the oaken thing held its integrity!

From beyond the door, Ditzy Doo’s head was spinning. The world around her refused to still itself as her mismatched eyes rolled in their sockets, reeling from the sudden impact and traumatically abrupt halt in linear motion. She clutched her head between her hooves as a sharp pain pulsated between her eyes; her ears instinctively swiveled back as they rang with a most obnoxious pitch that refused to be muted.

Beneath her anguish, the little mare mentally berated herself for her utter lapse in concentration that was ultimately responsible for her unfortunate condition. It was incredibly foolish of her, she considered, to descend from nominal flight altitude whilst still maintaining maximum speed. It was simple physics really—simple here referring to the fact that even she understood—that while an object in motion lowered its altitude, it would gain a relative amount of speed due to gravity. All Pegasi were educated prior to the introduction of basic flight theory that in order to compensate for the relative changes in velocity, wing power must be utilized in order to overcome the natural forces of gravity, less too much velocity was gained, and the force of wind resistance against the wings barred a Pegasus from being capable of extending them.

As it stood, that was precisely what had happened to the hapless and klutzy mare. With the overwhelming amount of pressure being applied to her wings, they were forced taunt against her body, and she had been rendered absolutely incapable of flaring them open to avoid collision. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately as it were, the incident was far from the first time that she had botched her flight path and collided with some stationary object, and with her head no less.

Having recovered some measure of coherent thought outside of the staccato repetitions of the word ‘ouch’ and any synonym thereof, Ditzy squinted through one remarkably steady eye at the sturdy entryway that had assaulted her and gasped, flinching slightly as she was unprepared for what stood before her.

“T-T-Twilight!”

The lavender pony’s features were an amalgamation of sympathy, concern, and curiosity unbound as she gazed down upon the visibly shaken mare before her. She was a rather piteous site, sitting upon her haunches and clutching her wounded head whilst whimpering ever so slightly. The poor filly even shed a few tears of anguish as the pain throbbed mercilessly, forcing an agony upon her that threatened to tear her skull asunder.

Her woeful visage was heartbreaking, invoking such a powerful sense of empathy towards her self-induced misery that Twilight could hardly front any longer. With haste she broached the injured mare, sat upon her haunches at her side as she took the little Pegasus between her forehooves, and coddled her within her tender bosom.

“There, there, Ditzy.” She motherly whispered into her ear, “You’ll be alright. You should really be more careful, though. You could have seriously hurt yourself! Flying can be very dangerous if you don’t adhere to all of your training! And that was a rather nasty landing there; I’m surprised you didn’t take my front door right off its hinges!”

Despite herself, Ditzy chuckled slightly at the humorous jest; and though she wasn’t particularly fond of being lectured about her occasional clumsiness regarding her flight capabilities, arguing her position on the matter seemed somehow moot to her, given what had so recently transpired. Besides, who was she to refute the comfort of a friend who was only concerned for her wellbeing?

“Ah, I heard a laugh in there!” Twilight giggled. “Yes, I think you’re going to be just fine. But, you could’ve just knocked, you know? The library may be closed for the evening, but my door is always open for my friends—metaphorically speaking of course!”

Another delightful tinkling of giggles rang against Ditzy’s ears like a silver bell, and she couldn’t help but surrender to the mirth of the moment within Twilight’s gentle embrace. The lavender pony had always had quite the knack for assuaging her suffering, be it physical or otherwise…

“So, tell me, Ditzy, what brings you knocking at my door this evening?”

The Pegasus mare thoughts were halted momentarily by Twilight’s passive inquiry as she discovered, much to her embarrassment, that she had completely forgotten why it was that she had come to the other mare in the first place. From what little she could recall, it was rather imperative for her to be there, less her frantic and albeit hurried flight from the Whitetail Woods and consequential injuries resulting thereof had been little more than whimsical wanderlust, something she deeply hoped wasn’t true. It simply was not like her to expend such a vast amount of effort for the simple sake of enjoying an evening stroll through the amber painted skies. Something like that was typically more fulfilling to her when she paused to enjoy the view, and her expeditious pace had certainly not allotted her any amount of time to do so.

Regardless, a niggling sensation in the back of the little mare’s mind testified to the fact that that was simply not the case at all, as though her reason for broaching Twilight had little to do with her actual flight, and more to do with the reasoning behind it. It was something of such vast importance that made her fear for safety, though definitely not her own that prompted an immediate and rash decision. It felt as though somepony she cared about were in trouble, but she honestly could not recall having had any interaction with anypony other than Pinkie Pie and now a befuddled Twilight Sparkle.

One thing she was certain of, however, was that both of the mares she had come into contact with were both safe and out of harm’s way. To her knowledge, Pinkie had not left the confectionary with her when she ventured into the woods, and it was obvious that Twilight played no role in whatever it was that prompted her to seek her out.

But what was it then that was the cause of her anxiety? It clearly had something to do with the woods as every fleeting thought she had of her experience there elicited a feeling of trepidation and concern, but certainly not for herself. She recalled entering the woods alone with a box of scrumptious treats from Sugar Cube Corner, satisfying her inane muffin lust, taking a long nap, and awakening several hours later. Nothing far from ordinary; no threatening creatures, no unruly weather, no obvious natural or unnatural disasters—nothing. And vacating the woods was of no certain consequence, just some sorrowful thoughts that were transitory at best and a blinding explosion of light which resulted in the appearance of a strange mythological creature…

Ditzy suddenly gasped in alarm as the proverbial light ignited within her mind, illuminating the mystery that she had been so desperate to remember. It was the creature, that human that she had encountered within the woods that was the cause of her adamant concern! He needed help, and she had been incapable of providing assistance alone. That’s why she had come to Twilight!

“T-Twilight!” The little Pegasus suddenly exclaimed, briefly startling the other mare who tensed reflexively. “I-I need your help! There’s s-something lying in the w-woods and he isn’t awake! It’s hard to explain, b-but I think he might be a h-human! Something happened to him when the e-exp-explo…b-big bang happened and he wouldn’t wake up! I d-don’t know if he’s hurt or not, b-but he’s too big for me to carry back to P-Ponyville by myself. We have to hurry, T-Twilight, before something b-bad happens to him!”

Her frantic speech lingered within the lavender pony’s ears for a moment as she digested what it was that Ditzy had so earnestly proclaimed. And despite her friend’s adamant insistence towards prompt action, Twilight could not bring herself to move. Like a fractured record skipping upon a phonograph, her thoughts were plagued by a single, repetitive word: Human… She was almost certain that she had not properly heard the word—almost here alluding to the fact that had she not actually heard it, she would have absolutely no reason at all to ponder its curiousness.

Perhaps even more curious than that, however, was the startling amount of urgency that Ditzy had conveyed in her terse explanation. It had been so completely honest and genuine without so much as an inflection of dishonesty present within her troubled stutters. Whatever it was that she had witnessed, she honestly believed it to be real.

Regardless of that notion, it was astoundingly difficult for the pragmatic mare to believe that Ditzy had actually stumbled upon a mythological creature. There was simply no logic in assuming the human’s factuality based upon the reflection of a mare that possessed a notoriously inaccurate and honestly fragmented memory. It was entirely conceivable to presume that perhaps the other mare had simply experienced a lucid dream in which she had some imaginative interaction with the creature. Or perhaps, as a result of her recent traumatic episode, she had suffered some lapse in memory during which she had confused the fictional stories regarding humans for factual events.

Either theory was certainly plausible, infinitely more so than believing that a mythological beast had been injured in some kind of explosion within the Whitetail Woods. And in regard to the explosion itself, it only served to affirm her suspicions. While there was certainly enough flammable material lying within the woods to support continuous combustion, there was absolutely no spontaneous ignition source powerful enough to produce such a violent release of energy that would result in an explosion. It was simply inconceivable, without cause!

Be that as it was, as Twilight glanced down into the shimmering, golden eyes of her companion, it was unquestionably clear that she firmly believed every bit of what she had said. The pleading urgency upon her countenance utterly begged her for assistance, and loathe as she was to admit to her own personal belief in mythology, it was not simply in her to squash the enthusiasm of the innocent little mare, despite her lack of faith in her recollection.

“D-Ditzy, dear…” There was a moment’s pause between them as the expectant and tremulous eyes of the Pegasus met with the empathetic gaze of Twilight’s unwavering violets. She swallowed hard against the lump in her throat that was all of her pride and scientific resolve urging her to avoid what was potentially nothing more than an indulgence. But if this was what was required to placate the frighteningly anxious mind of the mare before her, then it was her duty to their friendship to help her. “It would be absolutely irresponsible and horribly insensitive of me to refuse to help you! However it is that I can be of assistance to you, you have my full cooperation!”

Her words flowed like cleansing waters through the ears of the panic stricken Pegasus, washing from her body the turgid filth that was her woeful trepidation. She managed a gracious and honest smile for her companion, unfathomably grateful to her that despite the staggering amount of disbelief she had witnessed upon her countenance as she had considered her tale, she had not forsaken her needs. It was a testament to the lavender pony’s faith in their friendship, and for a mare that had few in which she could call ‘friend’, it was absolutely invaluable to her.

“Thank you, T-Twilight…” She wept, not for the sake of sorrow but out of humble gratitude as she tenderly embraced the other mare. “Th-Thank you so much! I-I know it’s hard to believe n-now; b-but come with me, and I’ll show you. I-it’s just inside the w-woods, not too far from here!”

Wiping her eyes upon the fetlock of her foreleg, Ditzy gently nuzzled Twilight before she turned away from the mare, indicating with an earnest gesture towards the thicket of the Whitetail Woods as she trotted off.

With a warm and genial smile, Twilight strode along side her companion, not caring at all if the words spoken by the insistent little mare held any truth. So long as her affable friend was happy, it didn’t matter. To see her smile was all she wanted…

***

On a dusty and well beaten path, far from the world of his ancestors, from the triumphs and pratfalls of a self-destructive species, from the pain and anguish of his isolated suffering, an ironically alone creature stirred from his comatose slumber. His lids lethargically fluttered, parting way to half lidded eyes that gazed blearily upwards into the obscure amber heavens above.

It was all not but ambiguous blots to the man, a hazy miasma of warm colors painted upon a canvas by an unknown artist’s smear. Several amorphous shapes of varying color coalesced to form towering enigmas that surrounded his supine body, each of which bowed subserviently to the gentle breeze that carelessly caressed him.

He blinked once, then twice to free the wanton focus of his vision from its paltry obscurity. Upon opening his eyes for the third time, the man could see clearly, and the sight that arose to greet him was absolutely breathtaking; so awe inspiring in its lustrous nature that a poet’s words would utterly fail in its description. For above the man spanned the endless depths of an intimately ignited, amber hued sky. The warm kiss of an autumn sun shined brilliantly down upon him through the dancing leaves high within the canopy of a lush woodland. The thick vessels upon which the leaves were so precariously perched stood tall and proud, yielding only to the call of nature’s breath as they swayed rhythmically to her generous exhales. From all around him, the supple foliage flourished in abundance, thriving in harmonious tranquility upon the earth which knew no obvious malice.

In spite of himself, of the memories that haunted his passing, of being lost within the void of nothingness, of finding Thanatos only to be spared from death, the man smiled. He smiled for the sake of the life that surrounded him; he smiled for the sake of being alive. For a man that intimately knew what it was to lose such a gift, it became something exceptionally precious to him. So precious to him in fact that the material loss associated with life was now absolutely meaningless to him. He could not honestly care any less that he had left behind him a past filled with transient things that gave him no purpose. A home, a career, a smattering of friends that were never there when he needed them—all things that without a life to enjoy them with were utterly pointless. What honestly bothered the man about his precarious position, however, was the sobering fact that it took death itself to force him to realize just how precious the simplicity of being alive truly was. Life was freedom in of itself. Life was beautiful…

And certainly he was alive again as he drew upon the untainted air of whatever fanciful world he resided in to fill his lungs. He could feel the unfaltering rhythm of his heart as it beat steadily within his chest. As he sat up, the man was delighted by the sight of his mortal body, unaltered and in pristine condition as though it had never plunged to its demise behind the wheel of an ill-fated vehicle. To his astonishment, he found that he was still clothed in his duty uniform, the ensemble present in its entirety along with his shield and personal radio which cackled statically as though someone were rubbing a coarse sheet of sandpaper over the surface of a board. But the device itself was insignificant in a foreign world, and for the man it was absolutely worthless. Grasping it between a large forefinger and thumb, he silenced his radio before affixing it again to his belt only out of habitual practice. The man then tensed as if to stand; however, the motion was surreptitiously arrested by the transient thoughts whispering within his mind before he had even so much as his feet beneath him. It was all rather strange to him as he sat back upon his hands to ponder the unique curiousness of his bizarre situation—bizarre in the sense that even if he were to walk along the beaten path upon which he sat, he would have absolutely nowhere to go. Veritably, it was a road to nowhere; even if it in fact led him to civilization, it would be a civilization that had never heard of him before. That much he had deduced, not only from the words of Thanatos, but from the irrefutable evidence of the world that surrounded him. This world was as strange and alien to him as it was beautiful and serene, a harmonious place that could never exist within the harsh reality of his past. And he, a wayward martyr of death’s whimsy, was as hopelessly lost within its overwhelming vastness as a child was away from its mother. As horrifying as that proposition may have been, the man felt absolutely nothing of the foreboding sense of fear commonly associated with it. If anything, he was honestly humored by it, happy even as he sat idly upon the earth.

He was a homeless nobody, a name that had never been whispered upon the lips of any living soul within this strange, new world. It didn’t matter who he was or what he had done, for as far as he was concerned, that life had come to an end within the crippled wreckage of a truck that forever rested in a place known as Fiftieth and I-27.

As for his new life, this wondrous second chance that had been so generously bestowed upon him, he would begin it anew with the solemn vow to embrace its simple pleasures. To hell with the horrid animosity and tribulations of the past! Giggling with a glee unbecoming of a grown man he threw himself back upon the ground, smiling as he clutched the earth beneath his hands and reveled in the feel of the cool dirt sifting between his fingers. It felt good to be alive again.

***

“So, Ditzy, would you mind telling me a bit more about this strange phenomenon you witnessed,” Twilight breathlessly asked above the thunderous clatter of her galloping hoof-falls as she followed her compatriot through the dense coppice of the Whitetail Woods. The grey mare before her had committed to an arduous stride that was nothing short of brisk, and her eagerness was positively palpable to the lavender pony who huffed behind her.

“W-well…There’s not too much more to…s-say!” Ditzy replied between her panting breaths as she struggled against the building fatigue within her own burning muscles to press onward. “There was a l-loud boom like thunder, a bright flash of light, and then I f-found the human lying there! I know that must sound st-strange, but it’s the truth; I would never l-lie to you Twilight!”

“I trust that you wouldn’t, Ditzy!” The lavender mare wheezed, “I’m just trying to…make sense of this, that’s all! I mean…scientifically speaking, what you are…describing sounds absolutely preposterous! What manner of creature…just suddenly materializes through a process that…dematerializes common structures?! How would the rapid outward…expansion of energy be conducive to the emanation of a…living organism? Additionally, how is it that an explosion of such…magnitude just happened to spontaneously occur? Even when one factors in the…possibility of magical influence and arcane variables, the resulting happenstance of creating a living entity is…moot at best. I mean, I suppose it is technically conceivable…when one considers that,”

“T-Twilight!” Ditzy interjected as she cast an apathetic glance over her withers towards the mare in tow, “I k-know that you are…sk-skeptical. B-but please, just have a little…f-faith. In short time, I’ll…b-be able to prove that he is…r-real! P-perhaps he can…sh-shed some light on just how it was that he…c-came to be here!”

The lavender pony sighed, “Very well, I suppose that the inquisition will…just have to wait. It’s just that I am…so curious about all this, Ditzy! If what you have said merits truth, it very…well could be the most crucial discovery in…millennia!”

“All that…aside however…just how much further do we have to…gallop to reach him?! Loath as I am to…admit this, I have not been very…faithful to my own athleticism,” She rasped, “I’m not…all too certain that I can…keep this up for very much longer! I’m cramping in…places that I haven’t studied about…in years!”

Were it not for her own gluttonous lungs, Ditzy may have chuckled at her companion’s piteously punctual complaints. “D-don’t worry…Twilight! We are almost…There! As P-Pinkie would say, we are…n-no more than a hop, s-skip, and a…jump away!”

Twilight groaned, “For my sake I…sure hope so!”

***