A Nightingale's Song

The red, streamlined feathers and hair felt soft, thick, and gentle to his touch, waves of crimson laying back systematically as he stroked his hooves across the plume. Nightingale Shade looked closely at the object in his possession, his eyes glazing over the alloy of steel, brass, and bronze dyed a jet black. Scratches, scrapes, and the occasional dent were arrayed across the metal. Each mark brought with it memories of his relatively close past and every hair and feather reminded him of mistakes he had made—recent mistakes, indeed.

How had he even ended up in that eternal… no, infernal, city of marble, quartz, and gold anyways? He had begun his journey in Equestria and fate had decided to take him all over the known world, only to end up in a position that was, while seemingly grand, no more than indentured servitude.

His hooves continued to brush against the helmet, before stopping upon a slight bump upon the cold metal. An eagle, emblazoned across the forehead that seemed to screech at him, calling upon what Nightingale tried so hard to forget.

But was forgetting the past really worth it?

Nightingale Shade sighed, before returning the old helmet to the saddlebags laid out in front of him. The leather bindings were torn and were threatening to fall apart, and yet the pegasus stallion found it hard to think of replacing them. The bags and their contents had been Nightingale Shade’s sole possessions for so long that it almost felt wrong to throw them away now. Despite this,  what was the purpose of keeping what lay inside?

Digging around the inside of the bags, Nightingale pulled out several more items. An old leather-bound journal and quill, the insides of the book full of his father’s writings and the feathers of the quill bent and misshapen. His gaze shifted to another notebook; this one consisted of pages upon pages of music sheets—none of which were Nightingale’s own works. He did not have any of his own. Among these, however, were some that originated from his father, and others from songs he had heard throughout Equestria and Baltimare. There were a couple of pieces that derived from the buffalo and Nightingale Shade had even decided to keep a few of the sea shanties that he had learned, though he had fully memorized most of those shanties anyways.

The other two items were simpler—a small amulet, his mother’s amulet, crystalline and shining in the pale light of the hospital room. He had found it in a familiar pile of ash, a memory that he strove to forget—yet the amulet was a sign of his inability to do so.

And then, there was the note. The single note that he had found in a different ash pile, all those years ago. The contents of the note were simple yet cryptic. The words contained within were his initial drive, the original impetus that had motivated him to leave Equestria—to find the kind old scholar that had visited him, and the other children, in Baltimare, upon the promise of the old caretaker. Indeed, Nightingale Shade missed the good widow Weatherby greatly. Whatever happened to her, he did wonder from time to time.

The sounds of hoofsteps in the hallways caught his attention, and in a flurry, Nightingale Shade gathered the laid-out items, stuffing them back into the old saddlebags hastily. He had just closed the bags to the extent that was possible when the door to his room opened, revealing a pink-maned mare wearing a white and red hat.

“Hey, Nurse Redheart,” Nightingale Shade said, a small smile on his face. “What’s the news?”

The nurse smiled warmly down at Nightingale, holding something up. “Well, I was able to procure another set of saddlebags for you. I hope they’re to your liking.” Nurse Redheart held out a set of saddlebags, their pale-cyan color catching Nightingale’s eye. “Did you find all of your stuff in your old bags? Nothing was missing?”

“Nothing of note,” he replied, his eyes looking over the new bags as he took them from Redheart’s hooves. “Nopony saw what was inside them, right?”

Nurse Redheart frowned before responding. “No, not to my knowledge. Why? You’re not keeping anything… illegal in there, are you?”

“No, no,” he assured her, his smile slowly fading. “Just some… personal items. I’d rather as few ponies as possible know about them.”

“Then what about the new bags? Do you like them? They’re the only ones I could spare.”

Nightingale looked closely at the pale-cyan bags, feeling them with his hooves. It was so simple, to simply let go of the ripped old brown bags that he had carried for so long. The bags were, at this point, more of a liability than anything. And yet, he found it so hard to let go.

What was it about the bags that held onto Nightingale?

After a few moments, Nightingale nodded, looking back up at Nurse Redheart.  “They’re fine. They’re great.” He smiled at her, meaning to show his thanks. “Thank you so much, Nurse Redheart. I know that you didn’t have to do this for me.”

Nurse Redheart shook her head, chuckling. “No, no, it’s fine, don’t worry about it. We’re trying to help you, after all.” She nodded at Nightingale once, twice, before turning to leave. Before she could depart, however, Nightingale remembered another question, calling her back.

“Um, Nurse Redheart, if you would, I have a question.” She turned, facing towards the pegasus.

“Yes? What do you need, Mister Shade?”

Nightingale paused for a moment, before asking. “Well, I just remembered that I don’t have any money. I can’t pay the hospital bill. What am I supposed to do about that?” He shook his head, a slight frown upon his face. “I don’t wanna skimp out on payment.”

Nurse Redheart chuckled softly, a grin upon her face. “I wouldn’t worry too much about that, Mister Shade. Twilight Sparkle and her friends decided to pool some of their bits together to pay for your treatment.”

Nightingale Shade raised an eyebrow, his frown deepening. “Why would they decide to do that? For me, a complete stranger, too?” He was, in fact, genuinely confused by this news. It made little to no sense for ponies that had never met to do something as kind or generous as this.

Redheart’s chuckles increased in volume as she nodded her head while struggling to hold back those chuckles. “Well, because they’re your friends, after all. We do prize friendship here in Ponyville, Mister Shade.” With that, she turned and left the room, the door closing gently behind her.

Nightingale Shade stared dumbly at the closed door for a few moments, his right eyebrow threatening to pop right off of his face. ‘Friends?’ he wondered, his head slowly tilting to the side. ‘So soon? Why would they consider me a friend so soon? I just got here!’ His incredulity persisted for several minutes as he tried to rationalize what Redheart had told him. After a few minutes of back and forth arguing with himself, Nightingale sighed deeply before he seemed to regain his composure, shaking his head. Looking down at the saddlebags, Nightingale began to move the items from the old bags to the new, when the pegasus had an abrupt epiphany.

“Damn it all to Tartarus, I’ll need to pay them back now.”

A few days passed, as Nightingale Shade recovered in the Ponyville Hospital. Twilight Sparkle and her friends had not visited again since their first visit, and Nightingale had decided to spend most of his time not spent undergoing physical therapy or resting in bed staring out the window of his hospital room, noting the day-to-day events and happenings of the town known as Ponyville. He had noticed the pony known as Rarity and a small… dragon, of sorts, however ridiculous that notion was, leave to the outskirts of the town, only for the dragon to return alone, heading back to the outskirts with the rest of their friends in tow. They had returned hours later, covered in soot, dirt, and other materials, pulling along carts of diamonds and jewels that would have made the senators blush, yet laughing amongst themselves with a general sense of happiness and joy.

He had watched Twilight bumble around as she seemingly hunted her friend Pinkie, falling victim to misfortune upon misfortune. Though immensely confused by those events, Nightingale Shade had shrugged them off, noting them as simply the day-to-day of Ponyville.

With each passing day, Nightingale Shade noted the eccentricities of Ponyville and its inhabitants, and, on the final day of his tenure at the Ponyville Hospital, came to a final conclusion.

Ponyville was, indeed, a weird, yet tranquil place. An oxymoron if ever he’d heard one.

And it just so happened that today would be the day that he would be integrated into Ponyville itself. For, while he had told the doctors and nurses time and time again that he had to make his way to Canterlot, they had responded with the notion that he would have to stay in Ponyville for at least a little longer. When he had recovered to the point where he was allowed to finally leave the hospital, he was required to abstain from any strenuous activity for the time being. To make sure that he’d maintained the prescribed regimen, Nightingale would also be subjected to weekly visits to the hospital, for the doctors to periodically check up on his progress.

Unfortunately, making the trek to Canterlot without aid counted as strenuous activity. That and he did not have the money to purchase a train ticket to the capital of Equestria. In fact, he did not have any money whatsoever. Whatever currency he had from outside Equestria had been long lost in the Everfree and besides, Equestrian society would have only accepted bits. Unfortunate, to say the least.

It also dawned upon the pegasus stallion that he did not have a place of dwelling. He did not have a home and, yet again, did not have the money to purchase temporary lodging. Doubly unfortunate, indeed.

And so, as Nightingale Shade walked through the doors of the Ponyville Hospital, a frown adorned his face as he wondered how, in Equestria, he would obtain the funds he needed to buy passage to Canterlot and where, exactly, he would sleep and bathe.

Of course, there was also the matter of paying back his apparent friends.

As Celestia’s sun progressed through the sky, Nightingale made his way through the town marketplace, passing by countless ponies and buildings. Some of them waved at him, while others ignored him altogether. It was of no matter to him, though he would rather remain relatively unknown in Ponyville during his hopefully brief tenancy in the town—

A sudden growl interrupted him, and Nightingale’s hoof, on instinct, moved towards his stomach, a slight vibration rumbling through his body. With it came the familiar sensation of hunger, and a frown crept upon the pegasus’ face.

‘Damn it, I’m hungry,’ he thought, his head naturally swiveling around in search of sustenance. His eyes caught a certain stand in the market, its oak planks adorned by rows upon rows of sweet, red apples, absolutely ripe for eating, drops of juice and water dribbling down each voluptuous— he decided not to go down that vein of thought. As far as he was concerned, it wouldn’t end well for him.

“Well don’t just stand there, sugarcube, come and take a gander!” Nightingale’s gaze snapped towards the source of the voice, his eyes falling upon an earth-pony wearing a brown Stetson. A good-natured smirk lay upon her face, and the mare seemed to be looking at Nightingale with humor.

“What? What do you mean?” He blinked.

The pony chuckled, gesturing for Nightingale to approach. “Well, you look mighty famished, what with that look on your face. You were starin’ at these here apples like you’d never seen a Red Delicious before. Come and have one!”

“I don’t… I don’t have the money.” Nightingale Shade responded despondently. The mare surprised him, however, when she tossed an apple towards him. He deftly caught the fruit, staring at it incredulously. “Are you sure this is okay?”

“I insist, sugarcube. I may not be my friend Rarity, but I know a pony in need when I see one. Dig in!” She exclaimed warmly, a smile upon her face.

Nightingale hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do, but after a moment he took a bite, his teeth crunching satisfyingly into the soft rosy skin of the apple. The juices swirled around the inside of his mouth, providing a sweet, savory sensation, and he was about to take another bite when a sudden thought came to him.

“I’m sorry, your friend Rarity?” Nightingale asked, his mouth pursing. For some reason, the name sounded familiar to him...

“Yep. Don’t always agree on things with her, but darn if she ain’t one of my closest friends,” the orange mare responded. “By the way, are you new in town? I don’t reckon I’ve seen you before ‘round these parts. What’s your name?”

“Uh, my name’s Nightingale Shade. You could say that I’m… pretty new, yeah.” Nightingale responded, frowning at the apple.

“Oh, really? So you’re the one Twilight was talkin’ about the other day?” Her smile seemed to grow several times larger, her teeth glinting in the waning sunlight. “Nice to finally meet you, sugarcube. My friends and I paid for your bill—sounded like you did a mighty good deed, a few days ago, but don’t go ‘round getting yourself hurt too much. Only so much I can pay for.”

Nightingale’s frown deepened as he looked back at the pony in front of him. “I... I can’t take this apple. I’ve already got to pay you back for the hospital bill, this is too much.”

The mare’s mouth pursed, her eyes narrowing in displeasure. “You’ve already taken a bite. Eat the rest, sugarcube.”

Nightingale sighed, though he knew the apple-salespony was right. He took another bite out of the apple, enjoying the sweet taste of the fruit. “Then… thanks. I’ll pay you back as soon as I can.”

The orange pony smiled, amusement evident upon her face. “I don’t rightly know how things work where you come from, but ‘round here, we consider that a gift. Don’t worry about paying me, or us, back.” She held out a hoof, motioning for Nightingale to shake it. “The name’s Applejack, sugarcube. I reckon I’ll be seeing you quite a bit these next few days.”

Nightingale took her hoof, shaking it slowly, before nodding at her. “Nice to meet you, Applejack. I’ll see you around.” With a nod as the final gesture, he turned around, finishing up the last of his fruit. He cantered out of the Ponyville marketplace, eyeing the sunset.

He would have to find shelter quickly, that much he knew. He’d rather as few ponies as possible know about his current homelessness, especially Twilight and her friends. They’d already helped him out immensely, and there was no need to pile more debt upon himself, despite what Applejack had said.

Debts and favors had been, after all, the way he had become impressed into Fremitus Canis’ servitude after all, all those years back.

‘This… will make do nicely,’ Nightingale thought, stepping back as he surveyed the site.

The sun had left the horizon not thirty minutes before, and Nightingale had, thankfully, found a suitable location to make his abode. It was isolated, a ways from the town of Ponyville, and was situated close enough to the Everfree to hopefully dissuade any wanderers from approaching. A hill blocked the town from view, and a tree and bush provided ample enough shade and overhang. The viridian grass waved in the cool wind of the night, and nearby sat a shallow pond, in which Nightingale could hopefully wash and bathe in relative peace.

It was primitive, yes, and was completely open to the elements, but Nightingale knew that he had slept in worse conditions before. He knew he could stand inclement weather—he had spent many a night sleeping exposed to the howling gales and storms of the sea. This would be no worse.

He laid his new saddlebags upon the dirt and grass, patting them down neatly, before laying down himself. For heat, he had procured a small sample of kindling, lighting a dim fire that would, hopefully, not be seen from the town itself. Curling himself tightly, his wings bound against his sides, Nightingale closed his eyes, willing for the dreams of the night to take him.