A Nightingale's Song

by -SBRS

Rating: teen
Tags: Adventure
Length: 22619

A pony's history is among those factors paramount to their entire life. To forget one's past, would be to forget who they are, and what they stand for. To be split upon this idea, like Nightingale Shade is, is a dire circumstance indeed.

Nightingale Shade has always sought an answer to a simple question. Despite the hardship and adversity of his life, was it, in the end, preferable to hold onto his memories that were so core to his life as a whole, or to let go of his past and his history, and begin anew? Now, he returns to Equestria, his mind set on finding those who may have the ability to determine the answer to his question.

Finding himself dropped, metaphorically, into the picturesque, idyllic town of Ponyville, where those of all backgrounds and origins gather, Nightingale is greeted by a cast of unnervingly friendly faces. He has been given another chance, another opportunity, to reforge his life and begin anew among those that might welcome him. Through them, however, Nightingale finds himself dragged unwillingly into their outlandish adventures and bizarre journeys, tumbling unwittingly into uncertainty.

Despite the unusual circumstances of his new home, however, Nightingale continues his drive to uncover his past and search for the motives and stimuli that gave him his entire life in the first place. In the process, he slowly, yet steadily, discovers a truth close to heart, a concealed secret that may shake the foundation of Equestria to the core. When conspiracies arise, of tales relating to the hidden, broken, and ultimately, veiled past of Equestria itself and its rulers, where will Nightingale Shade and his new-found friends find themselves, amongst a variety of cloaks and daggers?

May contain strong language.
Many thanks to my editor Lightning Farron.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2016-02-17 00:34:27 UTC

Prologue

Prologue

When he had first entered the Everfree, it had been pleasant, glowing, and quiet. The soft rays of sunlight pierced through the thick canopy above, creating a prism of golden blonde streaks spread amongst the leaf-covered ground. It had been peaceful—not as dangerous or dismal as he had perceived it to be.

Of course, that seemingly innocent opinion had been thrashed when he had slept for the first night.

The wolves had torn at him, nipping upon his heels as he sprinted away, wishing ever so longingly for safety and freedom from the Everfree. Of course, he had undergone worse trials before in his travels, and danger was no stranger to him.

The ever-beating drums of the west, the shrill cry of the eagle making its descent unto those marked by fire and blaze.

His past had been marked by danger, in fact, though it had also had its fair share of peace and quiet. The salty tang of the great blue was something he knew well, too, as well as the great cyclones and windy torments of the cerulean expanse—though it was more keen to say it was a black indigo in those times.

Roaring, deafening, and screaming, the winds and waters threatening to send him flying overboard, into the deep depths below, a death not taken lightly. And yet, also a peaceful, serene place of joy and, sometimes, loneliness.

Now, the bears, the hydras, the even some coyotes hunted him, day and night, as he grew ever more restless, desperate, and urgent, frantically attempting to find a way out of the dreaded forest known to so many of his home country. His nights were fraught with alarm and alert, and his days consisting of wary travels through the deepest depths of the Everfree, in his quest to return to what he thought was “home.”

The wide prairie of the Mild West had been peaceful, tranquil, and yet had a rushing sensation of an everlasting journey, an eternal stampede, to a hazy end.

The Everfree was a different monster altogether, yearning to tear him apart through a measure of discord and chaos. Nothing natural lived this deep in the Everfree—his younger self, when he had first left Equestria, would have never survived. Most definitely not.

But, there was salvation in the works—he felt in his bones, in his body, that he was close to the end. He was nearly there, nearly back in Equestria. The only problem were the timberwolves that hunted him, tracking him like prey, like a trembling and quivering mouse in the clutches of an owl. He would have been indignant, had it not been for the circumstances. And yet, the timberwolves had seemed to back off for a time, seemingly tracking a different prey, a different quarry, following a new hunt.

And thus, he had found himself near the end of the Everfree, walking briskly through the forest, wounded, fatigued, and yet following his intention, his desire, his confused and muddled aim, to uncover his past, and to choose whether or not to forget it entirely.

The air was warm, as Celestia’s sun descended across the horizon, a violet sheet retreating as Luna’s domain took over. It had been a day like every other—a pleasant afternoon. Of course, a day like any other in Ponyville usually happened to bring with it some trouble of any sort—a monster from the Everfree, mayhaps, or possibly some magical anomaly brought forth by the troubles and toils of the idyllic hamlet’s resident librarian.

It was only fortunate, in many of the denizen’s minds, that this day had fortunately spared them of any such event as of yet, besides the rather humorous talent show the school children had put on earlier in the day. Yes, there were still a few hours left in the day, but so far, nothing had happened to cause worry.

“Rarity, are you sure that now’s a good time to enter the… Everfree Forest? It’s almost nighttime…” a certain voice almost seemed to whisper, the latter portion of the uttered words fraught with fear and apprehension. Such was the voice of one of Ponyville’s citizens—a gentle mare of a silken yellow coat and pink mane, the town’s resident animal caretaker.

“Oh Fluttershy, don’t be so worried, I’m sure we’ll be fine. We’ll only be there for a little while, after all.” Another voice, that of another mare—a certain accent about it, tidy and “proper.” This one was of another of Ponyville’s prominent citizens—Rarity, the dressmaker. “Now, if only my dear sister and her friends had not lost their… capes, in that horrid forest. It’s bad enough that they used my initial batch of gold silk, but they just had to lose those capes. Why were they in the Everfree Forest anyways, my dear?”

“Um… well...”

“Oh, I guess it doesn’t matter. Come, Fluttershy, let’s be on our way. The faster we find those capes, the faster we can go back home before dusk falls.”

Moments later, the two mares had found themselves upon the edge of the Everfree Forest—one apprehensive, yet determined, and the other fearful, reluctant. With a breath, the two ponies stepped hoof into the forest, the capes of golden silk their goals.

Of course, they did not see the green eyes that peered upon them from the darkness of the forest.

Pain, and exhaustion—his body ached and stung, and as he ventured forth, determined to find a way out of this damnable forest, he wondered, with internal fury…

Why, oh why, had he chosen to enter Equestria through the gods-forsaken forest in the first place?!

Ah, yes. He had desired a measure of personal strength, something to make sure that he would not lose sight of his goals again.

Of course, hindsight was twenty out of twenty, and in every sense, the numerous cuts, scrapes, and pains throughout his body exemplified his earlier idiocy.

Dirt and grime coated his mane and coat and, if one looked closely, one could see tinges of blood, here and there. One of his wings was bent in an awkward direction, and his saddlebags drooped from his sides, the leather bindings ripping across the seams as the threads lost their strength.

And yet, he continued forwards—for what way was there but ahead? Behind him lay the past—metaphorically. And more pain, possibly death, physically. Within him, he knew that he was nearing the end of the forest—and, oh, how he would welcome the sun, to shine down upon his face.

He did not even know if it was daytime or nighttime outside of the forest—it was always dark in the Everfree, a dark that he had come to know very well, over the past few days.

Thus, he was determined to finally leave the forest that had been his torment since he had decided to come back to Equestria. With every step that seemed to dig needles into his hooves, he moved forwards, and with every blink of the eye, he willed himself to stay awake, if only for a little longer. He had learned, the hard way, that rest never came easily in the Everfree—not during the night, and not during the day.

But suddenly, he stopped, his ears pricked forwards as he struggled to listen—a voice, a scream, a high pitched scream. Somewhere, in the forest, somepony was in distress. And more—barks, woofs, growls—timberwolves, just one set of monsters that he had become accustomed to—or rather, his tail had become accustomed to. Running away was often the best solution in the Everfree.

Nevertheless, his mind called for him to reach the sounds of distress, and as his muscles screamed in agony, he galloped towards the screams, resolute in his desire to help those that needed it.

Faster and faster he ran, his joints threatening to pop out of their sockets, and the screams became louder, shriller. With a thunderous jump, he smashed through some leaves and bushes, and with a slam, his body impacted upon another, wooden twigs and sticks flying everywhere. Rolling back to his hooves, he looked up, gazing upon the… rather large timberwolf, and a wooden paw that seemed to be flying towards—

Crash!

Like a sack of potatoes, he fell, stars swirling in his vision. With a groan, his vision darkened, his weary eyes watching the wooden paw that had slammed him into the ground.

‘Celestia dammit.’

It had begun with a request.

A request, by her sister, to retrieve her forsaken cape in the Everfree Forest.

Of course, she had questioned as to why Sweetie Belle was even in the forest—Rarity had assumed that the Cutie Mark Crusaders had been under Fluttershy’s care the day before. But, she had received no straight answer, and, after meeting Fluttershy at her home, the two mares had entered the Everfree Forest.

And now?

Yes, they had the cape in their possession.

But that was of no matter—for now, in front of Rarity and Fluttershy, was a pack of timberwolves, spitting wood and leaves from their mouths, and led by none other than an Alpha Timberwolf.

Where had it come from? She did not know. Why was an Alpha and its pack this close to the edge of the forest? Another question that was a much better fit for the likes of her dear friend Twilight Sparkle.

What was she to do about it?

Well, that answer was at least simple. She screamed, and was quickly joined in doing so by her companion. The two of them made to flee, but were stopped when more of the timberwolves emerged from the bushes, blocking their exit.

And so, a simple request from her sister had culminated in an event that would, most likely, result in her death. A pity, to be sure, that the greatest dressmaker and fashionista that Equestria had ever known, would meet her end in a dark, gloomy forest.

Yet, fate had chosen to spare her this day—or so she had thought, when a figure, covered in such material that was just begging for a trip to the spa to clean up, emerged from a bush, slamming into the Alpha Timberwolf. But, once again, her hopes were dashed when the figure, revealed to be a pony, was rendered unconscious by a simple swipe of the timber paw.

Rarity had prepared her lungs for yet another scream, when she stopped, gazing upon her friend Fluttershy.  The yellow pegasus stomped forwards, a visage of fury upon her face.

“No! Bad Timberwolf! Bad! Heel!”

Rarity thought to grab Fluttershy and pull her back, but stopped when she saw the Alpha’s head tilt in confusion.

“How dare you?! How dare you?! You do not! I repeat, do not hurt innocent ponies like that! You should be ashamed of yourself, you big bully!” screamed the normally demure mare. The Alpha stepped back, fright creeping upon its face, but Fluttershy did not relent, continuing her tirade.

“Say you’re sorry, mister! Say! You’re! Sorry!” Fluttershy’s screams were accentuated by her Stare, her eyes narrowing into slits of fury that almost screamed for the timberwolves to heed her command.

To Rarity’s amazement, the Alpha kneeled down, seemingly nuzzling the poor stallion’s body, before turning around and running away. The rest of its pack followed, a series of yips and barks signaling their exit. Rarity gaped as the timberwolves fled, shifting her gaze to a panting Fluttershy. After a moment’s pause, Rarity regained her ability to speak, cantering forwards to pat Fluttershy on the back.

“Fluttershy, that was… that was amazing! I knew you were good with animals, especially with your Stare, but I was sure we were done for! Whatever prompted you to—“

Fluttershy, however, walked towards the body of the fallen stallion, stooping down as if trying to pick him up. “Yes, thank you Rarity, but this pony doesn’t look too good. We should get him to my cottage.”

Rarity, remembering the injured stallion, nodded in turn, and her horn lit alight with the glow of magic. With a groan of exertion the unicorn lifted the pony up. Fluttershy hovered in front, supporting the stallion’s body with her hooves, and the two mares made their way out of the forest.

“Fluttershy, why do you think this stallion was in the forest, all injured like this in the first place? The Everfree is not the safest place to be, and he looks like he was living in it!” Rarity asked, a frown on her face. “Do you think he has a home here, like Zecora?”

“N-no… maybe he was just traveling. He does have saddlebags, after all.” Fluttershy responded sedately.

Rarity simply sighed, and the two mares continued in silence. Upon reaching the familiar cottage, Fluttershy flew inside, and Rarity could hear the sounds of pots, kettles, pans, and other objects being moved. As she entered, Rarity saw that Fluttershy had cleared a table, and was waiting for her. With the stallion’s body in tow, Rarity walked up and gently set the unconscious pony onto the table.

“There we go. Do you need anything else, Fluttershy?” Rarity questioned, panting slightly from the magical exertion.

Fluttershy flittered about her home, grabbing a variety of bandages, gauze, and other medical utilities, before responding to her friend. “No, I don’t think so. But you should go get Twilight—we’ll need somepony to help move this pony to Ponyville Hospital, and you seem to be too tired to take him all that way… no offense, Rarity…” With that, Fluttershy began her work on the stallion in question, examining the unmoving body. Rarity nodded, before leaving the cottage, her sights set on the Ponyville Library.

Papers fluttered across the room, and the sounds of scribbling quills filled the quiet air of the library as Twilight Sparkle, the resident librarian of Ponyville, wrote down her latest report to Princes Celestia—or, rather, the respective reports of the Cutie Mark Crusaders, on their most recent hijinks at the school talent show. Twilight was simply writing down their own words.

In most circumstances, it would have been Spike doing the writing, and the sending, but Twilight had already sent him off to retrieve some of the pastries she had ordered from Sugarcube Corner. She would just have to wait until he came back to send it—

Knock knock knock. A sudden series of knocks on the door broke her concentration, and Twilight groaned, leaving the report and walking down the stairs to the door. “Coming, one moment!”

Twilight opened the door with her magic, revealing her friends Rarity and Rainbow Dash outside. “Hey, girls. Do you need something?”

Rarity glared at Rainbow Dash, before turning back to Twilight. “Yes, I’m sorry to be a bother, dear, but Fluttershy and I need your help at her cottage. Rainbow Dash here just wanted to follow, I assume.”

The tomboyish voice of the rainbow-maned pegasus followed, a smirk adorning her face. “Yeah, I was bored, saw Rarity running over here, and wanted to see what she was up to. Seems urgent, though.”

Immediately, the visage of worry crept up Twilight’s face. “Oh? Is Fluttershy okay? Did something happen?”

“Fluttershy is fine, dear, but we’ll need your help getting somepony to the hospital. I’ll explain on the way.” Rarity turned around, gesturing for Twilight to follow her as the jogged away. Twilight followed, with Rainbow Dash following from above.

“What happened, Rarity? Who needs to go to the hospital?” Twilight asked, running besides her friend.

“Well, my dear, Fluttershy and I were in the Everfree together, trying to find Sweetie Belle’s little cape. She said she left it in the forest the day she and her friends were with Fluttershy.” Rarity turned her head towards Twilight, a questioning look on her face. “Why were they in the Everfree anyways?”

Twilight, in turn, chuckled sheepishly. “Eh… heh heh… don’t worry about that. But, continue, who needs medical attention? Were they in the forest too?”

“Yes, well, I’ll get to that. You see, Fluttershy and I had found my sister’s cape, but we were happened upon by a pack of timberwolves, led by one large one. I thought we were done for, but then out of nowhere, this stallion jumps from the bushes, all covered in leaves and dirt and cuts, and slams into their leader.” Rarity said, panting slightly as they ran towards Fluttershy’s cottage.

“Wow… that sounds… heroic?” Twilight responded.

“Yes, well, it would have been, if the pony hadn’t been knocked unconscious immediately after. No, the real heroic part came from Fluttershy—she used her stare and everything, and drove the timberwolves away, like she did with that dreadful dragon. So, we took the stallion to her cottage, and she’s patching him up there.” The three mares slowed down, their pegasus friend landing on the ground behind them, as they reached Fluttershy’s cottage. “We just need somepony to take him to the hospital—I’m much too tired to do that, especially after all this running.”

Twilight nodded, opening the door to the cottage. “Fluttershy, we’re here. Do you still need any help?”

In the center of the house sat Fluttershy, looking tired, besides a table. Upon the table was the aforementioned pony, unconscious and bandaged. “Oh, hey girls. I did what I could here. Twilight, can you take this pony to the hospital? They can probably do more than I can. If… if you want to, of course…” Fluttershy whispered shyly, raising herself to her hooves.

Once again, the princess’s protégé nodded, approaching the table. She examined the body, looking closely at the stallion. He had a grey coat, with the remnants of dirt and grime all over it. His mane was a greenish-blue color, as was his tail, and as she looked over the body, Twilight noticed his cutie mark—a pair of musical notes, eighth notes, if she remembered correctly, beamed together. A musical pony, perhaps?

“I’ll get the guy’s bags,” Rainbow Dash said, flying over to a pair of saddlebags near the table. “These are his, right?”

“Yes, they are, Rainbow Dash,” Fluttershy responded. “I was going to take them over myself, but I guess you can take them.”

Twilight Sparkle turned towards Fluttershy, looking over the yellow pegasus. “You’re okay, right Fluttershy? Not hurt anywhere?”

“Y-yes, I am. Thank you, Twilight, but—“

“Oh cool, look at the stuff this guy has!” The words, accompanied by the scratchy voice of the other pegasus in their midst, encouraged Twilight to turn around, only to see Rainbow Dash holding up a crimson-plumed helmet, the saddlebags open at her hooves. “A helmet? Why does this guy have a helmet?”

Twilight Sparkle prepared herself to scold the pegasus, anger creeping up her face, before her friend pulled another object out of the already-open bags.

“Oh, wow! Where did this guy get a set of wingblades?” True to her words, she carried a set of crimson wingblades, a weapon specific to pegasi. Rainbow Dash looked closely at them with interest, before Twilight’s raised voice interrupted her.

“Rainbow Dash! Put those back where they belong, they’re not yours!” The pegasus turned towards Twilight Sparkle, a sheepish look on her face, before returning the helmet and wingblades to the bag.

“Jeez, sorry Twilight. The bags are ripped open, and I saw those things, got curious. My bad, egghead.”

Twilight raised a hoof to her face, a sigh of frustration exiting her mouth, before turning back to the table. “Alright, we should be on our way. Thanks, Fluttershy, for doing what you can. I’m sure the Ponyville Hospital can take over from here.” Her horn lit up with magic, a violet aura encompassing the body of the stallion, before she raised him up, carrying him towards the door. “Let’s get on our way, girls.”

Chapter 1

Act 1

Happenstance

For the first decade or so of his life, he had grown up in a small town. The town of Coltsburg.

Pleasant, idyllic, quiet. A characteristic trio that his parents had loved. To the east of Canterlot, near the coast, at the base of the mountains where the princess resided. It was a corner of Equestria that few, besides traders, travelers, and those who wished for a quiet, humble life ventured to.

Fire. Smoke. Burning.

He didn’t remember much of the town—and he would never be able to, anyways. Circumstances had provided the terms that the town of Coltsburg wouldn’t have any more visitors anyways. But, what he did remember, were the rolling greens of the hills, the warm sun, and the cool dew drops of early mornings.

The burning incense of gas, flame, and glue, filling his nostrils.

He did remember the orchard—an apple orchard, where members of the Apple clan lived up to their name, periodically harvesting the apples. He did remember the occasional times at which the resident branch of the Apple family would temporarily depart for some sort of reunion at some town to the west, leaving the orchard in the hooves of a few family friends—including his father, one of their trusted workers.

He wretched, he coughed, but he couldn’t see through the thick haze of burning wood and stone.

His father? He didn’t remember much of his father, besides the fact that the stallion was generally quiet. His father loved him, he knew that much. But sometimes, he felt as if his father was more interested in… refuge? Safety? He wasn’t sure. His mother, too, was the same way. Warmer, yes, than his father, and she loved him, but she would always look to the west—always to the west—on cold nights, as if watching, alert, for some sign of danger.

The masks, in pursuit. The masks, in hate. The masks, their minds sundered by time.

And yet, all of that watching, all of that love, had been for naught, when, on that fate-less day, the ones in masks had come.

Fury and hate.

He awoke, a slight discomfort spreading through his body as he shifted. He felt the warm spread of a blanket atop him. Where was he? A bed? A room?

He attempted, slowly, to open his eyes, only to gasp when a pale light pierced through his eyelids, blinding him. A hiss of pain sputtered out from his mouth, as the pony raised his hooves to his eyes.

After a few moments, he decided that he would attempt, once more, to open his eyes. Slowly, carefully, he spread his eyelids, the light now cool, yet comforting. His vision was blurry, yes, but after a few moments, accompanied by a couple blinks, it cleared.

He was in… a hospital room? A type of room he was somewhat familiar with. He was lying in a white bed, and the room itself was bathed in pale shadows, as a golden light pierced through the shades of a nearby window. He looked down upon his body, to see an array of bandages spread about him. One of his wings was held up by a sling, and gauze covered one of his hooves. A slight beeping noise came from his right, and he daintily turned his head to see a cardiac monitor. Yes, this confirmed he was in a hospital. But where?

With a groan, the pony lifted himself from the bed, his joints and muscles screaming in protest. Ignoring the aches and pains, he stood up, his hooves and legs wobbly under the pressure. He stepped forwards, towards the window, making sure to take careful, quiet steps. He approached the window, raising a shaky hoof to spread the blinds. Peering out between the shades, the stallion took in the sights.

A pleasant town, it seemed. Rolling green hills, thatched roofs adorning the tops of village-style houses and buildings. What looked to be a carousel? A large tree, out of which a violet pony was leaving, accompanied by a small purple and green figure. And, farther to the left, a house made of… candy? Sweets? A curiosity, to be sure.

A sudden noise, loud and clear, behind him—he turned around rather quickly, a gasp of pain escaping his lips as he shifted his neck. The door was opening, to reveal a pale blue mare with a minty green mane. She wore a white cap adorned with a red cross—the universal symbol of aid, and hospitals. As her eyes took in the standing patient, she gasped, before rushing over.

“Sir, sir, you should not be standing up like this!” She grabbed the stallion, leading him back to the bed.” Come, lay down. You’ll hurt yourself, standing up like this—you need to recover first.”

“But—“he attempted to protest, his mouth feeling dry and raspy, but the mare shushed him, forcing him back into the bed.

“No buts! Lay down, and sleep. The next time you wake up, Doctor Horse will be here to talk to you. But, for now, sleep!” She gave the pony in question a commanding look, before turning around to leave.

A frustrated sigh emerged from his mouth, but, nevertheless, he closed his eyes. Maybe some rest was in order—after all, he was still feeling tired and fatigued.

He didn’t know how long it had been since he had first woken up, but he did know one thing. As he opened his eyes, feeling somewhat better, he noticed that the light outside had disappeared. It was likely nighttime, and the sounds of civilization had died down outside the windows. Turning away from the windows, he noticed the nurse from earlier, looking at him.

“Oh, good! You’re awake! I’ll get Doctor Horse here, and he’ll check up on you and see how you’re doing. Just wait one moment.” She turned to leave, leaving through the only door into the room. A few moments later, during which he deigned himself to fiddling with his blanket, the nurse returned, with a tray adorned with cups and another pony in tow—an amber unicorn stallion, with a chocolate-brown mane, a clipboard in his hooves. The nurse set the tray next to the bed, before the stallion spoke.

“Hi there! My name is Doctor Horse.  How are you feeling?”

He hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to say, before responding. “Alright, I guess.” His mouth felt dry, and it was a bit painful to speak. “Sorry, m’mouth is pretty dry.”

“Feel free to take a drink of water. It’s why we brought it, after all.” Doctor Horse watched as his patient took a cup of water from the tray and took a sip, before smiling. “Now, I’m just here to see how you’re doing, and get some medical records on file. Before we start, though, what’s your name?” The doctor hefted his clipboard, his horn glowing with magic as he raised a quill into the air.

“My name is, uh… Nightingale Shade.” A simple matter, to say his name, but at the same time, Nightingale felt vulnerable, freely giving out his name like that.

“Okay, Nightingale. Now, we obviously don’t have you in any of our records, so we might as well go through and ask you a few questions. Is that alright with you?”

Nightingale nodded, his blue eyes gauging the doctor and nurse. “S’alright, but under a few conditions. I might not want to answer a few questions, depending on what they are.”

“That’s quite fine, I assure you. Now, my first question. Where are you from? A pegasus like you might hail from Cloudsdale, but, of course, you could have grown up anywhere.” Doctor Horse asked, his quill at the ready. Nightingale gazed at the doctor for a few moments, hesitating before his answer.

What would he say? There were a few options, but he didn’t know what the right answer would be, in this case. Coltsburg, maybe? That was his hometown, after all. Or perhaps Baltimare, his place of residence for a time during his adolescence.

He did live with one of the many tribes of buffalo, for a time, but that was outside of Equestria, and the buffalo didn’t tend to have named cities. And there were, of course, the other two places he resided in for longer periods of time… neither of which he cared to share about.

“Doc, sorry, but I’d rather not answer that question, if that’s fine with ya.” Nightingale finally responded, noticing the still-waiting doctor.

Doctor Horse nodded, his quill scribbling across the board. “That’s quite alright. Now, onto our next question…”

Inwardly, Nightingale Shade groaned, before listening to the doctor’s next query.

It had felt like ages later when finally, the doctor had asked his final question, the sky outside a dark violet as the night continued on.

“Now, Nightingale, last question: do you or your family have a history of gastro-intestinal nosocomial disease?”

“Uh, no, doc, not that I can remember, I don’t even know what that—“ Nightingale was interrupted when the door opened once more, revealing the nurse from earlier—Nurse Tenderheart, as he had been told.

“Doctor Horse, I’m so sorry to interrupt, but Twilight Sparkle and her friends are here to visit Mister Shade. Something about a tour, or other.” Nurse Tenderheart said, an apologetic look on her face.

Doctor Horse sighed, putting his quill and clipboard away, before responding. “How did they know his name? Miss Sparkle said earlier that she didn’t know our patient at all.”

“Well, they didn’t know his name. I told them, but they just asked for a pegasus with Nightingale Shade’s descriptions.” Nurse Tenderheart replied.

“Well, I guess they can come in to visit our patient here. I’ve just finished up my questions, anyhow, so there’s nothing else for Mister Shade here besides rest and dinner. Very well, tell them to come in, Nurse Tenderheart.” The doctor made to leave, nodding towards Nightingale Shade. “And, Mister Nightingale Shade, do take care. I’ll be back tomorrow morning for another check-up, and to see how that wing is coming along. Have a good night.”

Nightingale nodded back towards the doctor, watching as the two medical ponies left, before thinking inwardly. ‘Twilight Sparkle? Who’s that? Should I know whoever that is?’

He had still been thinking when the door to the hospital room opened again, to reveal a gaggle of multicolored ponies, all led by a violet unicorn mare. Beside her were two vaguely familiar ponies—a buttercup-colored pegasus, and another unicorn—and a pink pony with a mane that strangely resembled cotton candy.

“Hello. My name is Twiligh—“ the first unicorn was interrupted when the pink earth pony bounced forwards, knocking her backwards.

“Hi!” She exclaimed, bouncing up and down on her hooves. “My name is Pinkie Pie and these are my friends! Is your name Nightingale Shade? Oh, I love it when new ponies come to Ponyville, it’s always so exciting! And that means—“she gasped, her hooves cupping the sides of her face. “Another Welcome to Ponyville Party! That’ll be so exciting, with streamers and cake and cookies and cake and pin-the-tail-on-the-pony and cake! Oh, the cake to be had—“

Noticing Nightingale’s growing discomfort as he retreated further and further into his bed, Twilight Sparkle pushed Pinkie back, before smiling down at Nightingale. “Sorry about that, that’s just Pinkie. But my name is Twilight Sparkle, and these are my friends. How are you feeling? I assume your name is Nightingale Shade?”

Off-put by the seemingly insane earth pony’s behavior and rapid-fire speech, Nightingale Shade gazed warily at the visitors before replying. “Uh, yeah. That’s my name. I’m doing alright, but I’m afraid I don’t know who you are besides your name, so, uh… sorry. Nice to meet you.” Genuinely, Nightingale was curious as to why these strangers had deemed it necessary to visit him.

“Oh, you don’t know?” Twilight watched as the pegasus stallion shook his head before responding. “Well, my friends Fluttershy and Rarity here are the ones you saved in the Everfree, from those timberwolves, and I brought you here to the hospital after Fluttershy patched you up.”

Before Nightingale could respond, the white unicorn, whom he suspected was Rarity, spoke. “Well, he tried, at least. He was knocked unconscious before he could do anything, after all.” Her words were met by Twilight’s glare.

“Rarity!” Twilight scolded, a frown upon her face.

“What? It’s true. A valiant effort nonetheless, dear, don’t worry.” She smiled warmly at Nightingale, who shrugged in response.

“Yeah, I think I remember now. You guys were attacked in the Everfree, and I stupidly came running, only to get blasted by a wooden paw.” He nodded, before looking back at Twilight. “But, I don’t think that’s why you’re here. Why’d you come visit?”

“Well, I guess you’re new in town, and you tried saving my friends. We just wanted to check up on you, see how you were doing. Fluttershy here was especially worried, since she had tried her best to bandage you up as much as she could.” Twilight Sparkle paused as Nightingale nodded his thanks to Fluttershy. “And, I’d also like to give you an offer.”

Nightingale Shade raised an eyebrow, immediately cautious. “Hm? What’s that?”

“Well, you’re the newest pony in town, so once you’ve recovered and everything, I’d like to give you a tour. I was once the newest pony in Ponyville, and everypony welcomed me with open hooves, so I think it’s only fair we do the same for you.” Twilight smiled at Nightingale, her eyes warm. Nightingale looked away for a moment, hesitating, as the gathered ponies awaited his reply.

“Well, I guess that’d be fine. Can’t do it now, of course.” Nightingale frowned as he gestured to his body, covered in bandages, gauze, and splints. “For some obvious reasons.”

“Yep, that’s okay.” Twilight nodded in understanding, before continuing. “Well, I guess that’s it. By the way, we left your saddlebags with the hospital, so I would think the doctors have them right now. Thanks again for, well, at least trying to help out my friends. We’ll leave you so you can get some rest.” The unicorn smiled warmly, turning around to leave. The others with her followed, Nightingale's mouth curling into a nervous frown as the pony deemed Pinkie Pie whispered 'party' in a disturbingly devious fashion.

‘Interesting,’ he thought. Though it would have been nice to have friends and contacts so soon after he had returned to Equestria, Nightingale knew that he still had places to be and ponies to see—he couldn’t afford to stay in this town—Ponyville, was it? He couldn’t afford to stay in Ponyville for long. Who knew how long Cryptic Eye would remain in Canterlot, only to leave Equestria again, just for Nightingale to follow him to wherever that cranky old scholar traveled?

Closing his eyes with a content sigh, Nightingale let his mind drift off, simply resigning himself once more to the embrace of sleep.

Chapter 2

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.

Chapter 3

The Royal Guards had arrived promptly, their ranks quickly filing through the ashen ruins and remnants, extinguishing any residual flames that burned through the cold night. There were more than a few survivors but as they made their way closer and closer to the heart of Coltsburg, they found more and more of the burned city unsalvageable.

The guards had found him unconscious and slightly charred, his wings smelling of burnt feathers. Nightingale had been huddled tightly under a collapsed floor, seemingly hiding in a cellar. They had told him that they had found his hooves against the top, apparently attempting to break through to the surface. Nightingale did not remember much else from the night, and yet, he knew he had been trying to reach his parents, desperately and frantically.

One does not simply forget that feeling.

Within one of his hooves, he remembered, was a letter, scorched, singed, and barely legible. He remembered finding it in a pile of ash, a mask lay nearby. He did not know what had happened to the masked one, but the letter, the note, was all he needed.

He had been taken, with several of the other unfortunate colts and fillies, to a train bound for Baltimare. Before they had left, however, one of the guards had brought Nightingale a set of brown saddlebags. Contained within them were his father’s journal, notebook, and quill, slightly burnt yet still usable, as well as a small crystalline amulet.

Nightingale did not know how long the train ride had taken—he only recollected the grey interior and slight rolling sounds of the train, passing through the heart of Equestria. But, he did remember the feeling of their arrival at Baltimare. It was a large city, though nowhere near the size of Manehattan, and it felt larger than life, terrifyingly so, to the young pegasus colt. This was not home, and the ponies here were not family. Not like his parents were. Not like his friends were.

Nevertheless, he had pushed forwards like his parents had taught him with the guards taking the small group of children to small apartment in the middle of the city. There, they had been introduced to a middle-aged pegasus mare, her coat a light red and her mane a pale, dying orange. She was the widow Weatherby, and she would act as their caretaker, their surrogate mother, for however long they would remain with her until adulthood.

She had loved them, Nightingale knew that much and had come to appreciate her for it. The old widow Weatherby would spend many a day and night nurturing the small group of colts and fillies, attending to their growth as young ponies. And, as the only pegasus of the group, Nightingale Shade was a particular focus of hers—she helped grow his capability to fly, and had given him the necessities to practice his flight.

One night, one solemn, cold night, a few days into their tenure with her, Nightingale had asked the widow a question, under the pale moonlit sky. Why had the guards taken the children to her? What was the purpose?

‘My dear child,’ she had said, slowly, softly. ‘This is an orphanage.’

He had understood, then, why they had been taken to the old widow Weatherby. Why his parents’ most favored possessions had been passed down to him. And why he and his family no longer lived at Coltsburg.

The taste of grass had never been Nightingale Shade’s favorite, and he remembered with disgust, why exactly he had hesitated to deign himself to grazing in the first place.

Ah yes, that was why. He had no money for food.

Nightingale Shade thought this with disgust as his picked through the bright jade-colored grass with his teeth, a perfunctory frown on his face. Finishing up quickly, he turned back to his makeshift camp, picking up his saddlebags and sliding them across his back. Giving a slight nod as he took in his appearance in the nearby lake, Nightingale left the camp, making his way towards Ponyville.

His goal, today, was to find work. It was, after all, the only way to make the money he needed for transport to Canterlot and to repay his benefactors.

Yes. Benefactors. That was a good name for them.

He made his way past a cottage seemingly built into a hill, animals fluttering this way and that way around it. Bunnies and rodents stopped to gaze at Nightingale, while birds hesitated in their paths, seemingly wary of the pegasus. Despite this, however, Nightingale paid them no heed, singing a tune under his breath as he passed over a wooden bridge.

“Now we are ready to sail for the Horn,

Weigh, hey, roll an’ go!

Our boots an’ our clothes, boys, are all in the pawn,

To be rollickin’ randy dandy Oh!”

“I’m sorry, sir, but we don’t have any open positions here. Our last opening was for a waiter, but it was taken yesterday.” The earth pony said, a frown upon his face. Nightingale frowned, though understanding as he turned around, leaving the restaurant through the front door.

He took a gaze around the center of Ponyville, desperately attempting to find any place that he had not tried to requisition a job at yet. He had tried the theatre, the bowling alley, the café, the bookstore, and yet none of them seemed to have any open postings. His latest attempt, the restaurant, had also proven to be a bust—and an annoyingly ill-timed one, as well.

Nightingale had glazed over the ridiculously-built bakery, Sugarcube Corner—he had no talent with baking, and he knew any attempt to learn would only end in disaster. Besides, he had seen the seemingly insane pink, bubbly mare who had visited him with Twilight in the hospital working there and had backtracked quickly, almost falling down in his haste to get away.

Sighing in disbelief, Nightingale’s frown grew as he realized his desperation. Indeed, if no employer would give him a job then he was, in the end, out of luck. No bits to pay his benefactors back, and no bits for a train to Canterlot.

Asking for handouts was out of the question, and Nightingale quashed that particular line of mental thought immediately, shaking his head slowly. He looked around, searching keenly for any place he might have missed. Ponies passed by, most of them paying him no heed, and Nightingale let out a low sigh, frustrated at his inability to find a job.

There was one other choice, though. One that the doctors and nurses, Nightingale realized, might not approve of.

On his way into Ponyville, Nightingale had passed by a farm. Its green and golden fields had been filled with rows upon rows of apple trees, their fruits hanging like jewels on a necklace. The pegasus stallion couldn’t help but wonder if the pony he had met the day before, Applejack, lived on the farm. She was, after all, selling the same apples he had seen in the orchard, and her named seemed to fit the bill.

‘Apple? Can’t be a coincidence…’ Indeed, the name was familiar to him—it had been, after all, the name of the family that had owned the farm in Coltsburg during his childhood. Family relations, mayhaps?

Nightingale’s father had, back in Coltsburg, worked as a farmer—there hadn’t been much else to do there. While he himself did not know much about farming, Nightingale knew that it was a start. It was simply a matter of heading down to the farm and asking for a job.

There was, however, the problem that his doctors did not want him taking part in any “strenuous activities.” There was no doubt in Nightingale’s mind that working as a farmhand would most certainly be considered strenuous work. That would be an issue that he would have to work around. Nightingale Shade stood in thought for a few moments, ignoring the many passerbys that gazed at the idle pony strangely.

‘Ah, what the hay, it’s worth a try,’ he thought in resolution, nodding his head. ‘I’ve recovered from worse, while working harder. It won’t be a problem.’ A small smile upon his face, Nightingale turned south, beginning to make his way to the farm he had passed in the morning. His paced increased to a steady jog, the buildings and sounds of Ponyville turning into green hills and the ambient sounds of nature as he hummed a low tune.

The sun had progressed to a point directly above in the sky by the time he reached the farm, the apple orchards and golden fields of wheat seemingly glowing under the high noon sun. As he approached the farm, Nightingale could see a small filly seemingly playing near the apple trees, a red ribbon tied in her mane. Having caught sight of him, the filly stopped, looking towards the pegasus stallion. After a few moments, she cantered over to Nightingale, a smile on her face.

“Hi, mister! Welcome to Sweet Apple Acres, where we farm the best apples in all of Equestria! What can I do for you?” The young filly beamed, her eyes shining as a glint appeared in her teeth. Nightingale hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to react, before responding.

“Hey there. I’m looking for somepony named Applejack. Do you know her?” Nightingale wore a thin smile, watching as the filly frowned.

“Applejack? Why’re you looking for my sister?” The young pony asked, tilting her head as she did so. “You one of her friends?”

“You can say that I am,” Nightingale nodded, before continuing. “Do you know where she is?”

Before the pegasus could respond, a familiar voice sounded from the trees, a scolding tone accenting it. “Apple Bloom! What have I told you about talkin’ to strangers?” An orange earth pony approached from between the trees, an irritated look on her face.

Apple Bloom, the young filly, turned around. “But he ain’t a stranger, sis!” She exclaimed indignantly. “He said he’s a friend of yours!”

Applejack turned to look at Nightingale, her eyes widening for a moment before she grinned, her gaze returning to her sister. “Yeah, he is, but it doesn’t mean you should have talked to him. You couldn’t have been sure if he was anypony we knew.”

“If I can’t talk to strangers and get them to visit Sweet Apple Acres, then how am I ever gonna get my cutie mark in pitchin’ sales, sis?” The filly exclaimed, a pout on her face as she looked up at her sister. Her sister, however turned away with an exasperated shake of the head, eyeing Nightingale strangely.

“Didn’t reckon I’d see you here at Sweet Apple Acres, sugarcube. Why’re you here? You need something?”

Nightingale hesitated for a few moments, the gears in his mind struggling to arrange his words correctly. “Well, yes. I, uh…” He trailed off, unsure of how to continue. Nightingale did not want Applejack to realize that he was still in need—it was likely that she would pass off the information to her friends, and that was something he could do without—he had no choice, however, and decided to ask. “I sort of need a… a job. You see, I don’t have any money. And no other business in Ponyville had any openings, so I thought I’d try here, since I met you yesterday.”

Applejack frowned in response, an eyebrow raising slowly. “You want to work here?” She asked, before mumbling something under her breath. “Don’t reckon I’ve ever heard of a pegasus working on a farm before.”

“Well, I’ve got nothing else. Thought I’d give the farm a try.”

Applejack nodded before responding. “Well, I guess I can let you try, but one question, first.” She paused for a moment, a questioning look on her face. “Didn’t the doctors say you couldn’t do any hard work? ‘Cause you’re recoverin’?”

Nightingale shrugged in dismissal. “I’ve been through worse, so I think I can get past it. Doctors don’t need to know.”

Applejack looked nonplussed by his statement, and Nightingale was ready to simply withdraw his proposal. Before he could do so, however, Applejack shook her head, chuckling lightly. “Ah, what the hay. We could use another worker ‘round the farm, so I’ll take you to Granny Smith, see what she thinks of ya.”

Though he didn’t know who this “Granny Smith” was, Nightingale nodded, agreeing to meet her. The two ponies headed off in the direction of a farmhouse, Applejack’s sister following closely behind.

Shortly thereafter, the trio had entered the farmhouse, Nightingale walking in slowly as he took in the smell of food. Freshly baked goods, it seemed. Applejack, on the other hoof, wore a large smile as she called out.

“Granny Smith? Big Mac? Ya’ll in here? I brought somepony for ya’ll to meet!”

Nightingale turned to his right as he heard an almost feeble sounding voice respond to her, a tone of confusion and weariness accompanying it. “Wha—what? That you, Applejack? Who’d you bring this time?” Around the corner approached an old mare, her green coat pale and her knees knobby and frail. “Who’s this feller here, Applejack? A friend of yours?” She asked as she took a hard look at Nightingale, as if sizing him up.

“You could say that, Granny. This here’s Nightingale Shade, came recently to Ponyville.” Applejack glanced at Nightingale, before continuing. “He’s lookin’ for a job, and he thought he could work here, at Sweet Apple Acres.”

Nightingale dipped his head respectfully towards the elder pony, a smile on his face. “Nice to meet you, ma’am. I hope I’m not too much of a bother.” If he had a hat, he would have tipped it, but Nightingale settled for the simple nod.

Granny Smith frowned as her eyes narrowing into a tight glare focused on the pegasus stallion. Moments passed in silence, Nightingale growing increasingly nervous as the elderly earth pony seemed to stare into his soul. Around the same corner, a large scarlet-coated stallion appeared, his mouth curled into a frown as he, too, stared at Nightingale.

Nightingale was relieved when Granny Smith finally broke the silence, her mouth tipping into a slight grin. “Why, you look mighty famished there, young’n. Why don’t you come eat some lunch with us, and we can talk about that job you’re needin’ afterwards.” She looked at the rest of her family, nodding in contentment. “Soup’s on, everypony. Let’s eat!”

With that, Granny Smith turned around, walking back into the room she came from. Applejack, Apple Bloom, and the large red pony followed, the young filly gesturing for Nightingale to join them. Frowning slightly, he shrugged to himself, before following them into the next room—a dining room, of sorts, the four farm ponies making themselves ready at the table as Nightingale entered. Granny Smith motioned towards the seat across from her—most definitely, Nightingale thought, to keep a firm eye on him. He took the chair, sitting down gently, and as politely as possible.

He was, Nightingale surmised, not the best at social scenarios like this. The lack of experience was absolutely a factor.

Looking at the arranged dishes and bowls on the table, Nightingale’s eyebrows lifted as he took note of the arrayed foodstuffs. Most of the items were related to apples—apple sauce, fritters, pies, dumplings, and the like were spread amongst the table, accompanied by flower sandwiches, eggs, and a bowl of salad. The smells wafted from the food, piquing Nightingale’s sense of smell, and at that moment he realized how hungry he really was.

When was the last time he had really sat down and eaten at a table? It had to have been years before, at least—after escaping Fremitus Canis’ clutches across the Antlertic Ocean, Nightingale had roved for several years, at one point returning to Brave Hunt’s tribe of buffalo. The buffalo did not eat upon tables, and, at this point, Nightingale was rather used to the mush and grain of the buffalo, or the few foods he had been able to forage and gather on his journey back to Equestria. Before then, he had nourished himself with the rations supplied to him and his three turmae, as well as the occasional fanciful foods he had been privy to in Canis’ parties.

Real, actual meals, cooked at home with love and grace, had been few and far in between. They were definitely something Nightingale had missed dearly in his travels…

Nightingale looked back up at Granny Smith, noticing her hard gaze was settled upon him. He smiled warmly or, rather, tried to.

‘I’m very bad at this…’ he thought, holding back a frown.

After a moment, Granny Smith spoke, smiling at the assembled ponies. “Well, here we are. Dig in, everypony!”

Nightingale watched as the elderly mare and her grandchildren eagerly began to eat, the sounds of crunching and munching washing over him. He hesitated for a moment and shrugged, before picking up a small apple fritter and taking a bite. Its taste filled his mouth, and Nightingale had to resist letting out a moan of satisfaction. The next few minutes entailed of the gathered ponies making their way through the food, the occasional “pass the salt” or “hand me some of that pie” breaking the relative silence.

Nightingale, on his part, attempted to remain polite at first, eating slowly and in small portions, but a few pointed stares and an innocent mention of Nightingale’s hesitance broke his resolve quickly, and he then ate the food with a similar gusto as the members of the Apple family. The food quickly disappeared, all of them patting their stomachs in contentment. After a few moments of silence, Applejack cleared her throat, before turning to the rest of her family.

“So, this is Nightingale Shade, ya’ll. He’s a new friend of mine—met him yesterday when he left the hospital,” she introduced Nightingale, taking a glance at the pegasus. “Nightingale, this is my family. You’ve already met Apple Bloom, my younger sister, and Granny Smith, and this here’s Big Macintosh.” She pointed to the large red stallion.

Nightingale nodded at them all, a genuine smile upon his face. “Nice to meet all of you.”

“Nice to meet you too, Mister Nightingale!” Apple Bloom exclaimed, a wide smile upon her face. Big Macintosh rumbled a low “eeyup” while Granny Smith simply nodded, her eyes once again gauging Nightingale.

“Now,” Applejack started, “Nightingale here told me that he needed a job, ‘cause no one else in Ponyville was hiring. I know we don’t really hire no other ponies, but I thought that since he doesn’t have any money, we could help him out a little.” She looked at Granny Smith, a questioning look on her face. “What do you think, Granny? You okay with givin’ him a shot?”

Granny Smith sat still for a moment, before nodding. “I’ll be fine with it. Could always use some more workers, after all.” She looked up slowly, a contemplative visage upon her face. “Sweet Apple Acres hasn’t really employed any pegasi that I can remember, but I do know Apple Crunch and her husband let some pegasus help her out in Coltsburg. Well, until that big fire took out that town. Darn shame, that was.”  She muttered her last words, looking at a point somewhere behind Nightingale. “Did always tell her that Evening feller and his wife Cardinal were kinda suspicious.”

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Nightingale asked, having missed her last sentence. In response, Granny Smith waved a hoof in dismissal, shaking her head.

“Nevermind that, dearie.” She turned to Applejack, nodding her head. “Applejack, I’m fine with this feller here workin’ on the farm. Just make sure he does things the Apple way, okay?” She finished her words with a sweet smile as she stood up slowly. “Now, I have to take a nap—I’m right tuckered out.”

Nightingale watched as the elderly pony left, before turning to Applejack. “So I guess I work here now?”

“Yep. I guess you do,” Applejack replied, standing up as well. “Now, we don’t start workers until the day after, so you can go home and get some rest. Tomorrow, Big Mac and I will get you up to speed, and we’ll discuss your payment later. Come back early mornin’ tomorrow, okay?”

Nightingale nodded, standing up to leave himself. “Alright, I’ll be here then. Thanks for the lunch, by the way,” he said, gesturing towards the table. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

A small chorus of goodbyes washed over him, and Nightingale promptly left the farmhouse. Outside, the sun had started to fall, the beginning of dusk starting to set in. The light bounced off the green fields, reflecting in his eyes as Nightingale squinted.

What exactly had he gotten himself into, here in Ponyville? The town was quaint, serene, and pleasant, and something about it called to him. He wasn’t sure what it was exactly, only that it reminded him of Coltsburg.

Was it the presence of another branch of the Apple family? Was it the familiar setting, of a quiet town rife with the air of a friendly, utopic society? Or was it the fresh breather from the wide prairie of the buffalo, the salty atmosphere of the sea, or the etesian climates he had been used to?

Shaking those thoughts out of his head, Nightingale made his way off the farm, passing by a treehouse and the cottage he had seen in the morning. A voice that he dared to think was rather lovely sang from the cottage, but Nightingale paid it no heed, his eyes set on the base of the hill that he had come to call his home.

As he prepared for a rather early sleep, Nightingale wondered pleasantly what the town would bring to him within the next few days.

Chapter 4

The golden sun shined down brightly upon the viridian grass, rays of sunlight casting a luminescent glow upon Nightingale Shade’s face as he looked up. It was early morning and the hills were topped with cool dew drops. Yet, the serene weather of Ponyville seemed not to care, warmth and pleasantness abound despite the day’s youth. It was a far cry from what Nightingale was used to elsewhere in the world but it only affirmed his belief that Equestria was different from all the other countries.

Most likely, he’d determined, because of Princess Celestia’s close proximity—she did, after all, control the sun, despite whatever the ponies of the far west thought.

Smiling slightly, Nightingale Shade shelved his thoughts, trotting with a simple air of slight joviality. He had woken up not thirty minutes before and, after a quick wash, had begun the short journey to Sweet Apple Acres to begin his first day of work on the farm. Hopefully, all things would go well, considering his relative inexperience.

Within moments, the large farm came into view, its rolling hills, fields, and orchards rife with fruit and harvest. Nightingale nodded to himself, catching sight of Applejack and her brother Big Macintosh near the barn. They looked to be waiting for him, having not begun their work yet. Not wanting to delay them further, Nightingale spread his wings and took off, flying with a sense of ease towards the barn.

He landed softly, jogging towards the two siblings. Nightingale waved a hoof as he approached, the two earth ponies turning to meet him.

“Nice to see you made it, sugarcube,” Applejack said, smiling at Nightingale. “Big Mac and I were just about ready to start without ya. You feelin’ okay?”

Nightingale nodded before responding. “Yeah, I’m alright. Sorry I’m a bit late. I misjudged the time to get here. Are we good to go?”

“Well, we gotta show you the ropes first, Nightingale. Can’t letcha go around harvestin’ our apples without knowing what to do first, heh heh.” Applejack chuckled.

“Alright, I guess you’re right. What have you got to teach?” Nightingale replied lightly, looking at the arrayed equipment that the siblings possessed.

“For starters, Big Mac and I are gonna buck the apples out of their trees. Usually, it’d be me who does the bucking and Big Mac who takes the apples back in the buckets,” she lectured, looking back at her brother. “But since he’s on buckin’ duty now, you’ll be the pony to carry the apples back. That fine with you, sugarcube?”

Nightingale considered this before nodding affirmatively. “Sure, that’d be okay. That all I’m doing?”

Applejack nodded, signaling her confirmation. “Yeah, for now at least. Don’t wanna pile too much on you on your first day.” Her face grew stern before she continued. “But that don’t mean you can slack off, Nightingale. We’ll need all hooves on deck for our harvest.”

“Yep,” Nightingale said. Hard work had always been something he had valued—Nightingale was not one for curtailing his efforts. “You can count on me, Applejack.”

“Good.” Applejack turned, heading towards the orchard. “C’mon, ya’ll. I reckon we’ve got a lot of work t’do, so let’s get to it.” Big Mac immediately began to follow her, Nightingale hot on their hooves as they set on beginning their work day.

With a low grunt, Nightingale stopped the bushel-laden cart, stopping briefly to observe his handiwork. He wiped his forehead with a hoof, sweat dripping down his head as his wet and matted mane stuck to his face.

So far, he had brought at least four dozen bushels of apples, full of a variety of red, green, and yellow fruits, ripe and ready. Arrayed in front of the barn, they looked like colorful jewels, and Nightingale could not stop his mouth from watering at the sight of the delicious produce.

“Whoowee, that’s a lot of apples there!” Nightingale shifted his head as best he could, seeing Applejack and Big Mac approaching from behind.

“Is this an average workload for you guys?” Nightingale asked, his mouth frowning as he looked at Big Mac. If it was, how exactly did they do this every day? Or was every day even a harvest day like this one? Maybe it was because their earth pony strength granted them greater endurance and strength than others.

“Nnnope,” Big Mac responded, his deep voice somewhat unusual to hear. “Usually less.”

Applejack rolled her eyes, at this point rather used to Big Mac’s laconic speech. “We usually don’t get this much done, sugarcube, but with you here, we were able to harvest these here apples more than a mite faster.” She whooped, her mouth set with a wide smile. “In fact, I reckon that harvest season’ll be over before it usually is!”

Nightingale chuckled in response, before realizing the consequences of what Applejack implied. If the apple harvest was done faster then, reasonably, he wouldn’t have a job sooner than later. ‘Celestia dammit,’ he thought, frowning slightly.

Applejack continued not long after, walking towards a wooden picnic table nearby with Big Mac. “Well, I reckon that’s enough work for now, boys. Nightingale, you can take that harness and cart off your shoulders, and get some rest,” she said. “I reckon Granny Smith will be out here soon with some fritters for us to munch on, so take a breather.”

Nightingale nodded, panting slightly as he released the harness that attached him to the cart, retrieving his saddlebags from the barn. Having done so, he walked over to the picnic table, plopping down into a seat. “You guys definitely aren’t the lazy sort, Applejack. Probably why your apples are all so good.”

The earth pony laughed, her mouth curling into a slight grin. “Well, it just wouldn’t be in our nature to, sugarcube. Sorry if we worked you too hard, Nightingale.”

In response, the grey pegasus shook his head, dismissing her words. “Nah, it’s fine. I always appreciate some hard labor. Though, I might need to take it a little bit slower next time.” He ended his words with a slight chuckle.

The next few minutes were sat through in silence, the three ponies simply catching their breath as they rested. Granny Smith had come through, promptly delivering several platters loaded with apple fritters and other sweets, her eye briefly stopping on Nightingale before she left. Nightingale, and the others, had dug in gratefully, satisfying their growing hunger.

Soon after, Big Mac had left Applejack and Nightingale, uttering a short “nap” as an explanation when Nightingale questioned him. Nodding, Nightingale looked at Applejack, his eyebrow raised. “Is he always so quiet?”

Applejack chuckled, her eyes stopping on Nightingale. “Ah, don’t worry ‘bout him, sugarcube. Talking just ain’t in his nature.”

Nightingale stared at her dubiously before he shook his head, his mouth curling into a small smirk. “Oh, don’t get me wrong, Applejack. I actually appreciate the quiet.” He looked away, gazing at the sun and noticing that it had reached a high point in the sky. “Not often you meet another pony that recognizes the joy of peace and silence.”

Applejack didn’t respond, Nightingale tuning out the sounds of chewing behind him. He watched the sun for a few moments, feeling the cool autumn breeze blowing against his face. A question came to him then and he turned around to face his companion.

“Hey, Applejack. Can I ask you a question?” Nightingale asked, watching as the pony in question looked up with an eyebrow raised.

“Sure, sugarcube. Whaddya need?”

He hesitated for a moment, looking away with a frown on his face. “Who exactly paid for my hospital bill? You and all of your friends?”

Applejack’s eyebrow raised even higher, her questioning look obvious. “Uh, yeah. Me and all my friends. Twilight Sparkle, Rainbow Dash, Rarity, Fluttershy, Pinkie Pie, and I all pooled some bits together to pay. Why?”

Nightingale didn’t answer at first, his frown deepening. After a few seconds he looked back at Applejack. “I’m just wondering why. None of you really know me—I just got to this town. Are you guys all just naturally generous?”

Applejack chuckled, as if she had heard an inside joke. “Well, Rarity is the one that pitched the idea. I don’t rightly know what’s goin’ on in that noggin’ of yours, Nightingale, but you’re our friend. Friends do nice things for each other, right?”

Nightingale, however, did not respond as Applejack thought he would, looking Applejack straight in the eyes with a serious visage. “Applejack, I think it’s going too far to call me your friend at this point. I barely know any of you—the only ponies I’ve really had a conversation with are you and Twilight. The rest of you, I haven’t even said a word to.” He looked away for a moment before continuing. “Don’t get me wrong, I’d like to be friends with all of you, but don’t you think it’s a little soon to be calling me a friend?”

It was Nightingale’s turn to be confused this time as Applejack burst into laughter. His eyebrow raised high as his mouth opened slightly. By the time the orange country pony had regained her composure, he looked rather ridiculous.

“Oh, don’t ever let Pinkie Pie hear you say that, sugarcube,” Applejack said, clutching her chest with a hoof. “I reckon she’s friends with everypony in town, whether they like it or not.” Her gaze turned contemplative as she looked away slightly. “I do wonder why she hasn’t visited you yet. She should have thrown you a party by now.”

Nightingale’s frown returned with force upon the mention of the pink party pony, dread threatening to fill him. “I’d rather she didn’t throw me a party, to be honest.” His ears pricked out as he became alert, as if Pinkie Pie could pop out and begin a party at the drop of a hat. “No offense, Applejack, but she unnerves me. And I’ve only really met her once.”

“Yep, she takes some getting’ used to, for sure,” Applejack responded, chuckling lowly. “Though, there really is no saying no to that mare.” She turned towards Nightingale, ready with another question. “Why don’t you want a party, anyways? It’s a good way to meet new ponies and have some fun.”

Nightingale shook his head, waving his hoof dismissively. “Ah, don’t worry about it. Just a personal thing.”

The next few moments continued in silence, Nightingale watching the leaves nearby flutter in the wind, some of them falling from their hosts. Yellow, red, and orange had started to gather on the ground, outlining a thin sheet of dead forestry. Suddenly, Applejack stood up, Nightingale turning around to notice that she had pulled a small pouch out of seemingly nowhere.

“Well, Nightingale, it’s been a good day of work, but we’re mostly done here. Just some organizin’ and movin’ needed to be done. Here’s your payment.” She handed Nightingale the pouch, the sound of coins clinking inside catching Nightingale’s attention.

Nightingale looked at the bag for a few moments, a small smile on his face, before he put it aside and looked up at Applejack. “Thanks, Applejack. I’ll be off now, so have a good day.” He stood up to leave, before Applejack’s question stopped him.

“By the way, sugarcube. Nightingale’s a bit of a mouthful, dontcha think? Mind if I call you somethin’ short? Like Gale, or somethin’?” She asked. Nightingale contemplated the offer for a moment, before shrugging.

“Doesn’t bother me. Call me what you will.”

Applejack smiled and nodded, waving the pegasus off. “Well, then you’d best be off, Gale. I’ll see you early tomorrow.”

Nightingale waved back, before beginning his trek back home. He determined that he would rest at his makeshift camp for a little while. Afterwards, he would decide what to do next. Maybe a purchase of some regular provisions were in order? It didn’t feel right for him to continuously mooch off of the Apple family for the time being.

There was also the matter of actually building a home. He didn’t have the money for an actual apartment or room in the town, but he could possibly purchase a set of tools and begin building a small, temporary abode—Celestia knew that he needed some shelter, for he had recognized, earlier, the pegasus preparing for inclement weather in the near future.

Once again, he passed by the cottage on the hill, birds fluttering about as he trotted by. Nightingale hummed a low tune as he walked, his subconscious taking over as he made his way home. When he reached his camp, however, he found that it was not empty—a somewhat familiar yellow pegasus stood nearby, examining the area.

Inching closer silently, Nightingale recognized the pony—Fluttershy, if he remembered correctly. One of Applejack’s friends.

‘What is she doing here?’ he thought.

Stopping behind her, Nightingale affirmed that she had not noticed him yet. He hesitated for a moment, before speaking.

“Uh, excuse me?”

Nightingale jumped back in alarm as the pegasus shrieked, her wings flaring out in what he recognized as shock as she took flight. Fluttershy turned around, alert and distressed, before noticing Nightingale. The two pegasi remained in silence for a few moments, staring at each other before Fluttershy landed softly, her mane hiding her face. Nightingale cleared his throat, his heart just beginning to slow down, when he spoke again.

“Uh, sorry for scaring you. Fluttershy, right?” He attempted to look friendly, a small smile appearing on his face as Fluttershy made to respond.

“Um… yes… hello…” she all but whispered, Nightingale having somehow heard her. The two ponies again regressed into silence, neither really knowing what to say. After a few seconds, Nightingale opened his mouth to speak.

“So, uh, did you need something? I just noticed you here and wondered what you were up to.”

Fluttershy slowly backed up, her face wrought with nervousness. “Well, um… my animal friends brought me here when I…” the buttercup pegasus trailed off, all but mumbling her last words.

“So you live around here?” Nightingale asked. He needed to get her away from his camp—Nightingale didn’t want the others to know about his homelessness.

“Oh, um… yes… I live in that cottage.” Nightingale looked to where she was pointing, seeing the cottage that he passed by every day.

‘Damn,’ he thought. It was likely that he would have to move his campsite now.

“Ah, okay. Lovely voice, by the way—I heard you singing a couple of days ago.” He said, trying to move the conversation along. Fluttershy, however, reacted with nervousness, hiding even further behind her mane as if embarrassed.

“Th—thank you,” she said after a moment, backing away. “I’ll be going now… goodbye.” At that, the yellow pegasus took off, flying back towards the cottage. Nightingale frowned, watching as she left, before turning back to his camp.

“What a shy mare,” he muttered, sitting down lightly on the grass. Setting those thoughts aside for the moment, Nightingale remembered Applejack’s payment and took the pouch of bits out of his saddlebags. He opened it before turning it upside-down, the coins jangling as they fell out.

‘Two, four, six, eight, fourteen, twenty-eight,’ he counted, arraying the bits in front of him. “Thirty-six bits,” Nightingale finished, smiling lightly. “Wonder how much that really is. Seems like a lot.” Shrugging to himself, Nightingale returned the pouch of bits to his saddlebags, gathering his things together. ‘Might have to move closer to the forest—don’t want Fluttershy telling her friends I live here.’ He thought, standing up and making his way towards the forest.

Nightingale walked out of the marketplace with a content smile on his face, carrying a bag full of produce. His pouch of bits had somewhat shrunk in size and weight, but he was satisfied with his own bartering abilities. It might not have been as great as the agrarians to the west, but it was still enough to get him what he needed without going broke.

After having found a more suitable location for his temporary home, Nightingale had returned to Ponyville, making his way towards the marketplace. Once there, he had, after a bit of listening in, had determined what seemed to be the worth of the bits, and purchased the provisions he thought he needed. Fruits, vegetables, bread, eggs, and others were among the top of the list.

Now, he was making his way out of Ponyville again when a certain storefront caught his eye. Turning around to gaze fully at the shop, Nightingale took in the patches and outlines in the glass window. Treble and bass clefs took the front, adorned and kept company by an array of musical notes and symbols. Nightingale’s mouth opened slightly as he walked closer, curious as to what the shop held within.

A small bell rang as Nightingale pushed open the door, the smell of polished wood and resin filling his nostrils. A smile crept upon his face, his eyes widening as they took in the various objects displayed across the store. Trumpets, violoncellos, trombones, violins, flutes, all of the normal sort—even a cornet, and—was that a bagpipe?

“Hello, and welcome to the Brass Horn! What can I do for you?” An elderly male voice called from Nightingale’s front, but the pegasus ignored it, his hooves running across a beautifully polished grand piano, its ivory keys smooth and firm to the touch. Nightingale turned around, eyeing a particular saxophone as a soft glow emitted from its golden brass curves.

“Um, I know my stock is nice to look at and all, but are you looking to purchase something, sir?” the voice came once more, and Nightingale looked at the source, noticing a somewhat old unicorn, a pair of glasses upon his face. His coat was a soft blue, and his mane was colored a light chocolatey-brown. Nightingale coughed, walking up to the stallion.

“Oh, yeah, sorry. Was just admiring your stuff.” He looked behind the salespony, gazing at a violin that had caught his eyes, before extending a hoof. “My name’s Nightingale Shade. I, uh, like music.”

The elderly unicorn chuckled, shaking Nightingale’s hoof. “Ah, yes, I could tell that much by your cutie mark. Very similar to that of another one of Ponyville’s residents.” He smiled at Nightingale before continuing. “My name is Garnet Tremolo, and this here is my music shop. As you can see, I’ve got nearly every instrument in the world in my stock.”

“Every instrument?” Nightingale questioned almost incredulous, an eyebrow raised. Why a pony that possessed almost every instrument in the world had set up shop in Ponyville of all places was anypony’s guess. In turn, Garnet Tremolo chuckled once more, shaking his head.

“Oh, no, that was just a sales pitch,” he responded, looking around his own shop. “In reality, I’ve got instruments from all over the known world, but not every instrument ever created.” Tremolo turned his head, his glasses pitching slightly as he gave Nightingale a knowing look. “That’d be rather impossible, after all.”

Nightingale nodded with a smile, walking over to a locked display case. Inside was a rather familiar instrument, Nightingale’s eyes widening as he took in the G-shaped brass figure, its end swelling in size from the tapered innards. “If you don’t mind, where did you get this one?”

Garnet Tremolo looked over, before responding light-heartily. “Ah, yes that one. I got that piece off of a traveling merchant, said he’d been all over the world. That, my boy, is a Roaman Cornu. Something their legions use for organization and marching, if I recall correctly.

Nightingale nodded before turning back around. “Well, all of your instruments are nice and all, but I don’t think I have the money to purchase one right now, unfortunately.” He frowned, his head dipping in regret. “Been a long time since I owned one, in fact.”

Tremolo, however, raised an eyebrow, gesturing for Nightingale to come close.

“So tell me, Mister Shade, how much do you love music?”

Nightingale looked up at the elderly unicorn, walking closer. “A lot. It’s been with me my whole life, and I know my father loved it too.” He turned around to grasp at his saddlebags, pulling out his father’s notebook and opening it to show the various pieces of music. “He had a lot of his own works that he composed himself. I haven’t written any of my own, but I have arranged many that I’ve heard over the years.”

Garnet Tremolo looked over the arrayed sheets of paper, flipping through the pages. After a moment, he looked back up at Nightingale, a smile upon his face. “And, Mister Shade, do you know how to play any instruments yourself?”

“Yeah, I do. I can play a lot of ‘em—trumpet, cello, piano, horns, woodwinds—a whole bunch. Favorite has got to be the violin, though. First one I learned how to play.”

Tremolo chuckled lightly, staring Nightingale straight in the eye. “And how dedicated are you to music? A bit of a stupid question, so forgive me but I’d like to be sure.”

Nightingale raised an eyebrow, unsure of where Garnet Tremolo was heading with this information. “Uh, pretty dedicated, if you ask me. Why? You’re not gonna just hand me one of your violins or something, are ya?”

Garnet Tremolo only smirked in response, before gesturing for Nightingale Shade to wait for a moment. The blue unicorn left the storefront, making his way out of sight. After a few moments he returned, a green case let aloft by the soft glow of magic.

“I noticed your gaze on that violin up there, Mister Shade.” Garnet Tremolo pointed up to the violin that had caught Nightingale’s eye earlier, before looking back at Nightingale. “Now, I can’t give you that particular one—it’s simply too expensive. But, I can give you this violin here.”

He opened the case, revealing the instrument inside. A full-sized violin lay within, its glossed shell marked by scars and scratches, and its strings broken and bent. The bow, however, was in better condition, its hairs soft and smooth. Nightingale’s mouth gaped, though he was disappointed in its condition.

“You’re just giving this to me?” Nightingale asked incredulously, his eyes wandering over the instrument.

Garnet Tremolo nodded his head, placing another bag atop the table. “I know it’s in pretty poor condition, but this is all I can spare, for now. I can give you the materials and things you need to repair it—it’ll just be on you to bring it back to a usable condition.”

Nightingale smiled slightly, picking up the bow in his hooves. After a moment, he turned back to Tremolo, an eyebrow raised in doubt. “And I suppose there’s a condition? Ponies don’t usually give things out for free like this.”

Garnet frowned slightly, an eyebrow raised. “I don’t know where you might have gotten that sort of skepticism from, Mister Shade, but you are correct in that there is something that I would like in return?”

“What do you need, then?”

Garnet Tremolo smiled, closing his eyes briefly. “Only that you play to your heart’s content, and love music as much as you already have, Mister Shade. Maybe, one day, you can come back to me, with whatever bits you may have acquired by then, and purchase that other violin up on the wall,” he said. “But, for now…” Garnet gestured towards the violin, nodding towards Nightingale. “A musician should not be without his tools. Take the violin for free and have a good day, Mister Shade.”

Nightingale’s mouth gaped for a moment as he closed the case and picked it up, but he smiled back at the elderly unicorn, waving a hoof as he left. “Thank you, Mister Tremolo. I really appreciate it.”

The bell rang once more as Nightingale walked out of the music store, a wide smile upon his face as he walked out of Ponyville. For the first time in a long while, he was truly content and happy—repairs and maintenance on the violin would be the first thing on his list of things to do once he got back “home.”

Chapter 5

Nightingale Shade had resigned himself to life in Baltimare: pleasant, slow, and methodical. Yet, it was not home.

It had never been home.

Nightingale knew that and yearned, every day, to leave Baltimare, to find home; to find the hearth where his heart lay. But he did not know where it was. His quest was a lost cause.

A failure from the beginning.

However, fortune smiled down at him when he’d been given the perfect incentive for a new goal. Said incentive had come in the form of a kindly old scholar who’d visited the orphanage for a day. He could still recall the wisdom behind the wizened eyes of the middle aged unicorn who, more often than not, carried heaps of scrolls,and scientific devices.

For some reason, Cryptic Eye had been drawn to Nightingale Shade. To this day, the pegasus still did not know why, and yet he knew Cryptic Eye saw something in Nightingale. In what fashion, he had no idea. Sometimes, it was an eerie interest, and at others, a grandfatherly one.

Cryptic Eye, during his stay in Baltimare, had taken Nightingale under his metaphorical wing and had taken to attempt to tutor him in various subjects—his favorite being music. Mathematics, science, history, the physical arts were all taught and Nightingale breathed in Cryptic Eye’s teachings—it was better than nothing, after all, and his parents had always taken care to teach him the value of education.

Thus, Cryptic Eye and Nightingale Shade had grown close, like a mentor and a student. Nightingale grew to care greatly for the old stallion, though he never truly understood him, and Cryptic Eye treated Nightingale almost like a grandchild. Far into the night they would debate, discuss, and learn, and long into the morning Nightingale would ponder what lay outside his small bubble, after having heard story upon story of Cryptic Eye’s travels.

He learned of the great mountains to the north, wintry and cold, where the windigoes circled and where a city of gleaming crystal had once stood, sundered by time. Nightingale learned of the great prairie to the west, past the Everfree and the Snowcap Mountains, and to the east, Prance, as well as the kingdom of the griffons. He learned of the great AntlerticOcean to the north-west and Eternity’s Crossing, a sea spoken of to be created by Celestia herself, to the south. Across the great blue below lay Saddle Arabia, a kingdom shrouded in mystery and fantasy, yet a multi-cultural haven, where species beyond comprehension gathered to trade and revel. He learned of the warring states to the far west, and of the great billowing storms that blocked them off, for if the ponies of the far west did not embrace peace, harmony, and the magic of friendship as Celestia’s own did, then what were they to do but be isolated until capitulation?

Cryptic Eye had always seemed to spit vehemently during that last statement. Nightingale Shade had always wondered why.

Nevertheless, despite all of their learnings, one night Nightingale had decided to approach Cryptic Eye with a request. For, if Cryptic Eye could not understand the contents of the letter, who could? And so, Nightingale had shown the old scholar the letter, the note, he had held in his hooves all those years ago. They had discussed it in detail, yet the scholar was, true to his name, cryptic, avoiding Nightingale’s questions.

Soon after, Cryptic Eye had departed for the west, seeking the reaches external to Equestria. He had always sought to travel the world, to find more and more knowledge to bring back to the ponies of Equestria.

Nightingale Shade had vowed to find him. He still had more questions.

With a groan of exertion, Nightingale pulled the last cart of apples into the barn, wiping his forehead with a hoof as sweat poured down his face. His mane was matted wet, and his hooves were caked in grime and mud from his physical work out in the fields. He panted for breath, his head stooping down as he breathed in and out, in and out.

‘Hard work never hurt anypony. Keep pushin’, Nightingale.’ He thought, closing his eyes for a moment. He opened them a little bit later, having caught his breath.

However, as he turned around a glob of sweat dropped into his eye, and Nightingale hissed in discomfort, a hoof moving towards his face to wipe away the moisture. Blinking away the sweat, Nightingale frowned when he saw something in the perspiration in his hoof.

A small crimson flake, miniscule in size. It seemed to float in the globule, swishing this way and that way as Nightingale inspected it. His frown deepened as he observed the flake. Sighing in exasperation, Nightingale suddenly shook his head violently, his mane flying everywhere as he attempted to rid himself of the sweat.

‘If there’s one, there’ll be more. A lot, likely. Gotta ask Applejack if I can wash my hooves and mane in a nearby pond or something,’ Nightingale thought, gazing around the inside of the barn absentmindedly. He stopped, however, when he noticed Applejack’s voice outside the barn, her silhouette appearing in the doorway as the sun shined behind her.

“Hey, sugarcube. That should be the last of ‘em, so I guess we can take a breather,” she said, entering the barn. Behind her was Big Macintosh, his traditional blade of wheat sticking out of his mouth.

“Alright then,” Nightingale responded, unlatching his cart’s harness before asking his question. “Hey, Applejack. Is there a pond or something around here? I need to wash my hooves and mane, if that’s fine with you.”

Applejack nodded, pointing out the door of the barn. “Yep, there’s a pond of water over yonder. Use it as you fancy, sugarcube.” She smiled before continuing. “Big Mac and I’ll be over near the farmhouse, if you need us.”

Nightingale watched as the two earth pony siblings left before making his way out of the barn himself. He followed Applejack’s directions, soon arriving at a small pond of water. The water shone a gentle blue and, as he approached, Nightingale could see his own reflection in the water.

He grimaced upon seeing it, noticing his haggard look. His mane was quite disheveled and dark circles sat under his eyes, revealing his overall fatigue. Looking closely at his mane, Nightingale could see flakes of red all over the sea-green hairs, some of the flakes already falling out. Shaking his head indismissal, Nightingale set himself on washing his hooves first, dipping them into the water. He rubbed them together, making sure to remove all of the dirt and grime that coated them.

Satisfied with their subsequent cleanliness, the pegasus diverted his attention to his mane. Dipping to his knees, Nightingale hesitated for a moment, before briefly plunging his head into the water. The water felt cool and refreshing upon his face, and after a moment of peace, Nightingale raised his head and sighed as the water droplets dripped down his face. He rubbed his hooves across his face, pulling at the hair in his mane. Stroke after stroke, Nightingale pulled more of the flakes out of his mane, the crimson specks falling like petals into the water. He submerged his head one more time, making sure of the lack of flakes in his mane, before nodding to himself.

“You alright there, sugarcube?” Nightingale jumped slightly when he heard Applejack’s voice behind him, turning around quickly to face the mare.

“Uh, yeah. M’alright,” he responded, an eyebrow raised. “Why? You worried about something?”

Applejack shook her head, approaching the pond. “No, not in particular. Just came to getcha, since a few ponies came to see you.” She said, before the red flakes in the water caught her eye.

Nightingale’s head tilted in confusion as he wondered who would come see him. “Who? Not really sure who’d come to see me here at work.”

Applejack hesitated for a moment, her response coming after a brief moment of silence as a frown appeared on her face. “Twilight and her friend Spike came to see you. Something about a tour,” she explained, before continuing. “But, Nightingale, what’s this red stuff in the water here?”

Nightingale frowned, hesitant to explain. ‘Should I tell her the truth?’ he thought, debating with himself. ‘Ah, what the hay. Can’t do any harm if I skirt around it.’ Nodding to himself, he responded.

“It’s, uh, dye. Mane dye,” he explained lightly, coughing into his hoof. Applejack turned to look at him, an eyebrow raised.

“Mane dye?” She asked, looking up at Nightingale’s mane. “Your mane doesn’t look red, and you don’t seem the pony to dye your mane. Why’re these flakes comin’ out now?”

“Well, back where I last came from, they dyed the manes of ponies like me red. Kind of like a… common identification, if that makes any sense. The dye they used tends to dig deep into the skin.” Nightingale looked away as he responded, a frown on his face.

Applejack stared at Nightingale blankly for a few moments, as though she was testing his responses in her head. “So, what, like how they dye the coats of the Royal Guards white? Somethin’ like that?”

Nightingale shrugged, deflecting the question. “Eh, sorta.” He replied mutedly.

Applejack stared at Nightingale, looking very much as if questions were flying about the inside of her mind, before shaking her head in dismissal. “Doesn’t matter, I guess. C’mon, sugarcube. Dry yourself off, and let’s get back to the farmhouse.”

Nightingale nodded before following the earth pony mare to the farmhouse in the distance their destination.

Applejack and Nightingale approached the farmhouse, trotting along silently. To their front, Nightingale could see the figures of a violet unicorn and a small… dragon, he assumed, presently waiting for them. The two ponies came to a stop near Twilight and her companion, Applejack smiling warmly as she spoke.

“Twilight, here he is. You wanted to take him on a tour or somethin’?” She asked, turning to look at Nightingale.

“Yep!” Twilight Sparkle replied pleasantly, in turn smiling at the pegasus at Applejack’s side. “You do remember my offer, right Nightingale?”

Nightingale raised an eyebrow, scanning his own memory in recollection. “Uh, yeah. Sort of,” he mumbled. “Didn’t expect you to actually go through with it.”

Twilight giggled, waving a hoof in dismissal. “Oh, don’t worry about that. You see, I was once the newest pony in Ponyville, and I was welcomed with open hooves.” She looked at Applejack, obviously recalling a memory. “And now that you’re the newest pony in town, I thought I’d share that same welcome with you!”

Nightingale frowned slightly, unsure of how to respond, but Applejack beat him to it. “Aww c’mon sugarcube, it’ll be fun! Your work for the day’s all done anyways, so I’ve got nothin’ else for you.”

After a few moments of hesitation, Nightingale nodded. “Alright, I’ll come along for this tour. How long do you think it’ll take, Twilight?”

Twilight thought for a few moments, a hoof reaching for her chin in contemplation. “Oh, no more than an hour or two, I’m sure.”

Nightingale pursed his lips in response, before shrugging. “Well, I guess I’m down for this tour, then. Are we going to head off now?”

Twilight nodded, motioning for Nightingale to follow her. Nightingale began to walk after her, the small dragon hot on their heels. Catching up to the unicorn, Nightingale matched her pace, walking besides her.

“So, Nightingale, what do you think of the town so far?” Twilight asked, the town of Ponyville growing larger and larger in the distance as the two ponies walked along. “Do you like it?”

Nightingale thought for a moment, contemplating his experiences thus far. “Well, so far it’s been alright. Calm, peaceful—seems okay, at least.”

Twilight chuckled in response before the dragon behind them piped up. “Well, you haven’t been here as long as we have. Things get a bit crazy at times.” It was the first time Nightingale had heard the young drake speak and the pegasus raised an eyebrow as he turned back towards the dragon.

“Well, I’ve seen a few things already, when I was still in the hospital,” Nightingale admitted before continuing. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen a dragon like you before, though. Are you Twilight’s pet or something?”

The dragon seemed to be a bit miffed at the label of “pet,” but Twilight giggled, stopping to let the dragon climb onto her back. “Well, I’m sort of his surrogate mother or sister. I raised Spike here since he hatched.”

The dragon, Spike, took a seat on the unicorn’s back, rolling his eyes as he did so. Nightingale nodded his head at this new information, regressing into silence as the three walked into Ponyville.

“So,” Twilight started, stopping to look around the town. “This is Ponyville, as you probably already know.” She pointed forwards, past a few ponies that were roving around the nearby houses, at a large building to their front, circular and multi-leveled. “That’s the Town Hall. Mayor Mare resides there—she’s the mayor, obviously.”

Several ponies walked past, a couple of them waving towards Twilight. The unicorn waved back, smiling warmly at them, before motioning to Nightingale.

“You should wave too! It’s always a good way to make new friends around here.” Twilight explained. Hesitating for a moment, Nightingale raised a hoof, awkwardly shaking it back and forth. He cringed inwardly, not sure that his attempted wave was acceptable.

“Moving on,” Twilight continued without missing a beat. “Ponyville was founded by the Apple family a few generations back, when Granny Smith had found a particular type of apple unique to the area. The Apple family was roving around Equestria, looking for a good place to settle, when they found the Zap Apples.”

“Oh, here she goes,” Spike muttered from Twilight’s back, moving a palm to his face. Ignoring the dragon, Nightingale listened eagerly as Twilight continued.

“Granny Smith and her family began to make Zap Apple jam from the apples, and travelers from all over Equestria gathered here to get a taste of the jam. Soon, a thriving community had started to form around the Apple orchards, and as time went on, the town became known as Ponyville, and grew in size,” Twilight lectured, approaching what looked to be the town’s central pavilion.

“This is the Town Square!” Twilight stopped, pointing at a nearby fountain of water. “This is where Mayor Mare holds her speeches, and where celebrations and holidays are focused.”

“Holidays?” Nightingale asked, looking around the Town Square. “Are any holidays coming up soon?”

Twilight thought for a moment, pursing her lips in contemplation. “Well, a few weeks after the Grand Galloping Gala, there is Nightmare Night.” She smiled in excitement, obviously enthusiastic at the notion of this “Nightmare Night.”

“Nightmare Night? What’s that?” Nightingale asked, genuinely curious.

“Oh, it’s a holiday where ponies, especially foals, dress up in costumes and ask for candy. It has a lot of celebrations, as well as a carnival, that go along with it, so it’s always fun!” Twilight exclaimed, beaming at Nightingale.

“I just like it for the candy,” Spike pitched in. “Say, Twilight, don’t you have something special planned for Nightmare Night or something?”

Twilight nodded her head before responding. “Yep! I’ve got a special costume just for this year’s Nightmare Night! I’m just hoping somepony will recognize it.” With that, Twilight began to walk forwards again, as Nightingale trotted to keep up. “But, leaving that aside, let’s continue our tour.”

The two ponies walked through the center of Ponyville, approaching a section of the town somewhat familiar to Nightingale. Stalls were arrayed across the street, various fruits, vegetables, and other foodstuffs as well as a variety of trinkets and baubles of differing colors, shapes, and sizes sitting in neatly placed boxes and stands. They were screened by a row of storefronts, an assortment of objects sitting behind the glass windows.

“This is the Ponyville Marketplace! You can buy most of the things you need at the stalls here, or in the different stores nearby.” She pointed towards a building Nightingale had seen the other day, its pastry-set walls and features making it look much like a gingerbread house. “That’s Sugarcube Corner! Pinkie Pie works there—you’ve already met her.”

Nightingale frowned, remembering the unnerving pink earth pony. He had vowed to stay away from the overly-enthusiastic pony for as long as possible—she simply frightened the pegasus.

Granted, she probably frightened plenty of ponies during her time in Ponyville.

“Hey, Twilight, mind if we get something to eat real quick?” Spike asked, holding his stomach. “I don’t think that gem sandwich held up really well from earlier.”

Twilight hesitated for a few moments before responding. “Can you meet us back at the barn, Spike?” She asked, gauging Spike’s face.

“Yeah, sure! I’ll meet you guys back at the barn, don’t worry.” Spike slipped off of Twilight’s back, running into the bakery. Nightingale watched as the small dragon pattered away, before turning to Twilight, a question on his lips.

“The barn? Are we going back there after the tour?” Nightingale asked. Twilight nodded in response.

“Yep! You still need to get your payment from Applejack, after all.” She explained in amusement, and Nightingale nodded in affirmation, his mouth curled into a small ‘o’ of understanding.

“But Moving on!” said Twilight quickly as she ushered him along. “There are a few restaurants here and there with all sorts of cuisines,.” Twilight trotted while motioning for Nightingale to follow. They passed through the marketplace, Twilight smiling and waving at several of the ponies that seemed to recognize her. Nightingale frowned, however, noticing the general lack of ponies around.

‘I distinctly recall more ponies walking around Ponyville at this time of day. What’s different?’ Nightingale thought, looking around the town. Setting the thought to the side, however, Nightingale watched as Twilight stopped and pointed at several other buildings.

“There’s a couple more places of note around here. There’s the schoolhouse—it’s a weekend today, so the colts and fillies are all out. Besides that, there’s Ponyville Hospital—you’re distinctly familiar with that place, right?” Twilight looked at Nightingale apologetically. “Are you okay, by the way? The last time I saw you, you looked really hurt in the hospital.”

Nightingale waved a hoof in dismissal, shaking his head. “Nah, I’m alright, don’t worry. I was mostly shaken up, though the doctors and nurses want me to stay in Ponyville for a bit longer.” The pegasus looked away for a moment, watching the red sun in the distance as it began its slow descent. The air was cooling down by the second, and he knew that it was likely well into the afternoon.

“I’ve got nowhere else to go for now, anyways, so I might as well stay in Ponyville for a little bit until I recover further.” Nightingale finished, looking back at Twilight. The unicorn, however, raised an eyebrow in confusion, a frown creeping onto her face.

“What do you mean, nowhere else to go? Don’t you have somewhere to live in Equestria, or somewhere?” She asked.

Nightingale realized where the conversation was headed, and attempted to backtrack, chuckling uneasily. “Uh, well, no. Not really. I don’t have a home.”

“So you’re homeless?” Twilight asked in alarm, her eyes widening. Realizing his mistake, Nightingale shook his head.

“No, no, no, I’ve had houses before, I just…” Nightingale looked away, unsure of how to word his response. “Well, I’ve never really had a home in a long time, if you know what I mean.”

Twilight nodded in understanding, looking away for a few moments. She did understand what he meant. Ever since she’d moved to Ponyville, Twilight had realized just how much sweeter living life felt when she had something else to look forward to aside from her studies. The two ponies relapsed into a deep silence for a few moments, as Nightingale worried how Twilight would respond to the new revelation.

After a minute or two, Twilight turned to Nightingale, an eyebrow raised. “Well, Nightingale, if you don’t have a home anywhere in Equestria, then why not settle down here, in Ponyville?” She asked, smiling warmly. “It’s a great place to live, and you’ll make plenty of friends.”

Nightingale did not respond for a moment, looking over the town they had just toured through. ‘Well, she’s right. The town is pretty pleasant and all—could be an okay place to live for the time being.’ He thought, furrowing his eyebrows in concentration. ‘But I’ve still got to meet Cryptic Eye in Canterlot. Who knows what will happen after that?’ Deciding upon an answer, Nightingale turned back towards Twilight Sparkle, a gentle smile on his face.

“Well, I’ll think about it. I don’t know what’s going to happen in the next few days or weeks, but I guess I can give it some thought,” Nightingale finally said, watching as a small grin creeped up Twilight’s face. “No guarantees, though.”

Twilight giggled lightly, nodding her head. “That’s okay for now, I guess,” she said, turning around and making her way back to the center of town. “But, right now, I guess we should make our way back to the farm. Don’t want to keep Applejack waiting after all.”

Nightingale nodded his head, following Twilight through the town back the way they came, watching absentmindedly as the sky grew darker.

“Alright, here we are!” Twilight Sparkle exclaimed, raising her head to gaze at the scarlet-painted barn looming over them. By the time they had gotten back to the farm, the sun had started to set, and much of the sky had been taken under the dark blanket of the night sky’s array of stars. Nightingale, in turn, gave a low sigh, simply desiring to return to his small homestead and retire for the day.

‘Maybe some practice with that violin is in order,’ he thought. He nearly bumped into Twilight, however, before noticing she had stopped.

“Huh? What’s the deal, Twilight?” He asked in confusion. The unicorn mare turned to look at him, before stepping aside with a hoof splayed out, as if welcoming him.

“After you, Nightingale,” she said, in a fashion that almost seemed to be devious. Raising an eyebrow, Nightingale stared at her, a shiver of unease shooting up his spine as he noted her expression. He stared at Twilight warily before walking past her and turning to the large barn door. Nightingale pushed it open, greeted by darkness as he walked in. Confused, Nightingale stepped fully into the barn, wondering where exactly Applejack was—

*“SURPRISE!”*

With a sudden burst of sound and light, the barn lit up in a seemingly physical representation of excitement, and Nightingale jumped back, wings flared in alarm, as a sudden explosion of pink loomed in front of him.

“By Venus’ flaming bridle, what in—” Nightingale began to hiss, but was interrupted by the pink menace in front of him.

“Surprise!”She exclaimed, a somewhat-discreet “pop” sounding off in accompaniment as a flurry of multi-colored pieces of confetti floated down upon Nightingale. The pegasus’ eyes widened as he backed away, bumping into Twilight as she too entered the barn with a giggle.

“Surprise!” The pink mare cried again, staring straight into Nightingale’s soul. “Did I getcha?! Did I surprise ya?! I bet I did, you look surprised!” She spattered, bouncing over Nightingale in a fashion that confused and unnerved him to no end.

“Erm… yes… very much so,” Nightingale muttered, inching slightly away from the party pony.

“I threw this party for you, Nightingale!” The pink mare exclaimed, her smile threatening to stretch off of her face. “It’s your very own ‘Welcome to Ponyville Party’! I’m Pinkie Pie, but I’m sure you already knew that!”

“Uh, thanks, I guess?” Nightingale responded uneasily, taking a moment to glance at the rest of the ponies gathered within the barn. He saw a multitude of Ponyville’s residents, varying in color, size, and other ways, though all beaming at him. He nodded slightly upon seeing Garnet Tremolo smirking at him from amongst the crowd, before looking back at Pinkie Pie. Pinkie gasped in a lungful of air, and Nightingale braced himself for the stream of words that were sure to follow.

“You see, you’re new to Ponyville, and so I’m welcoming you because you’re new in town! I know everypony in town and I don’t know you, and you helped save my friends in the Everfree and I saw you in the hospital with my friends so I knew you were new to Ponyville!” She panted for a moment before taking in another breath of air. “So I promised I would throw you a ‘Welcome to Ponyville’ party and so I did! Just for you, Mister Nightingale Shade! And I invited everypony in Ponyville to come for your party to welcome you to Ponyville, because I thought that since you were new to Ponyville, you could make some friends!” Her words seemed to jet at Nightingale a mile a minute, and the pegasus was leaning far back by the time Pinkie had seemingly finished.

“Uh, yeah, that’s—that’s great, that’s perfect, um—” Nightingale sputtered anxiously, backing away from the seemingly insane mare in front of him. She interrupted him, however, speaking once more.

“But what are we all waiting for? Let the party begin!” Pinkie Pie exclaimed, raising onto her hind legs with her fore-hooves in the air. Finally, with what seemed to be a large weight lifted off of his shoulders, Pinkie Pie bounced away, humming a jig as the rest of the party-goers began to socialize and converse amongst themselves. Nightingale breathed heavily, watching warily as Pinkie Pie departed.

“You okay, sugarcube?” A familiar drawl sounded from his left, and Nightingale turned to see Applejack, Twilight, and a white unicorn he remembered was named Rarity, all looking at him with varying levels of amusement.

“Uh…” the pegasus stallion started, grimacing slightly. “I, uh, I guess.”

“Oh, don’t let that one get to you, dear,” Rarity said, giggling slightly, her accent recognizable to Nightingale’s ears. “She’s always like that—I’m sure you’ll get used to her.”

“I’m sure I will,” Nightingale muttered, but the mares to his front ignored him in favor of the party.

“Well,” Twilight said, smiling as her two friends departed for the festivities. “I’m sure you’ll be okay. But for now, let’s have some fun!” Twilight herself disappeared into the crowd of ponies, leaving Nightingale to ponder alone.

With a contented sigh, Nightingale sank into a well-placed couch, a glass of punch sitting in his hoof. He took a small sip, gazing over the festivities.

‘A party, eh?’ Nightingale thought, watching as a particular pair of ponies danced together, their hooves pattering through the hay on the floor of the barn. ‘Been to several different types of parties before. None like this, though.’ He nodded to himself, thinking over the multitude of parties he had attended in the past.

Of course, there were the galas, dinners, dances, and gatherings that his old “boss,” Fremitus Canis, had him attend in the past. Those were usually filled to the brim with wine, dancing, and other sorts of festivities that Nightingale cared not to remember. He had never enjoyed those “parties” anyways.

Now, there were of course the sort of parties that Nightingale had attended before his servitude to Canis. They were more of a revelry sort of party, full of rum and drunken dancing, and had usually taken place on the deck of a frigate or man o’ war or, most commonly, the taverns of the ports the Sunset had frequented. They were… fun, to say the least, but he did not think this current party was anything like that.

No, this party seemed to be a pleasant sort, amongst close friends and neighbors, held in good fun and joviality. From what he had seen, Pinkie Pie was of the sort to bring jollity with her wherever she went. Perturbingly so.

Nightingale jumped slightly, however, upon feeling the sensation of another body plopping into the couch. He turned to his right, only to see a yellowish-white unicorn with a cobalt and cyan mane. She wore a pair of glasses, the lenses a bright violet.

“Sup, dude?” The unicorn asked, holding up a hoof. Nightingale looked at it confusion, unsure of what to do with it. After a few moments, she sighed, rubbing her face with her other hoof.

“You’re supposed to pound it. Bump it. Get it? Like this.”

She demonstrated the maneuver, raising her other hoof and briefly connecting the two with a small “clop” sound. “Here. Do it again, with me.” The unicorn raised her hoof again, and this time, Nightingale responded in turn, bumping her hoof with his.

“There we go, that’s how you do it!” the unicorn exclaimed, her scratchy voice signaling her as a sort of tomcoltish-mare—at least, that was what Nightingale assumed.

“So, you’re Nightingale Shade, right? The stallion of the hour?” The blue-maned unicorn asked, her mouth curling into a wry smile.

“Yeah, I am. And you are?” Nightingale asked, an eyebrow raised.

“Oh, I’m Vinyl Scratch. Though, I’m better known as DJ Pon-3.” The mare, now known as Vinyl, responded, with an air of cool-headed relaxation.

“Nice to meet you, I guess? What do you need?” Nightingale queried, curious as to why this pony had approached him.

“Ah, nothin’ much,” Vinyl said, leaning back into the couch. “I just noticed that your cutie-mark was the same as mine. Got curious.”

Nightingale looked at her cutie-mark noticing that, yes indeed, she bore the same mark as he did. The two beamed eighth notes, stretched across their flanks. “Huh. I guess they are the same. Funny.”

Vinyl looked at him, a smirk upon her face. “So, what, you like music? Ah, what am I saying, ‘course you do. But do you make music?”

Nightingale shook his head, somewhat disappointed in his own lack of ability. “Nah, unfortunately. I can arrange it fine, and play several instruments pretty well, but I can’t write my own songs. Never was able to.”

Vinyl nodded her head, her smile still upon her face. “Cool, cool. What kind of instruments do you play?”

“A whole bunch,” Nightingale answered, taking another sip of his punch. “Started with the violin. Moved onto other strings, then eventually onto some brass—mostly the trumpet. I’m pretty good with drums, and I can sing, somewhat, so I’ve got that going for me.”

Vinyl gave a low chuckle, amused by Nightingale’s question. “Well, just by your answer I can tell you and I are into vastly different types of music.” She gauged Nightingale, as if contemplating whether she should do something with him. “I should introduce you to one of my friends, actually…”

Vinyl trailed off, and the two ponies regressed into silence for a few moments before Nightingale asked another question. “Vastly different types of music? What are you into, then?”

The unicorn mare took an almost predatory look at Nightingale, giving a deviant smirk. “Electronic. Dubstep. House. That kinda stuff. You know it?”

Nightingale shook his head, curious as to what kind of music her words entailed. “Not particularly, no. Can’t say I’ve heard of those genres.”

Her smirk grew even more lopsided in response, her eyes narrowing, though still hidden by her violet glasses. “Ah, I gotta show you some of my music, then, one of these days. I’m sure you’ll love it.”

Nightingale nodded, taking another sip of his punch in silence. Looking to the side, he watched as another pegasus approached him—cerulean coated, and with a truly unique mane, as if somepony threw the contents of a bucket full of color upon her. She looked at Nightingale with an analytical gaze, and Nightingale raised an eyebrow at her demeanor.

The mare approached him, before turning towards the unicorn to his side. “Vinyl, dude, what’s up? Haven’t seen you in a while.” She had a similarly scratchy voice compared to Vinyl.

“Hey, Rainbow Dash, sup? Yeah, just got back from a tour in Fillydelphia, got some crazy stories to tell ya’.” Vinyl responded, bumping hooves with the rainbow-maned pegasus. “I’ve got  to head out now—radical party, though. I’ll see ya’ later, RD.”

“Right, right, cool. See you, dude.” The pegasus, deemed Rainbow Dash, watched as Vinyl left, before turning her attention to Nightingale.

“So you’re the new pegasus in town, eh?” She asked, smirking at Nightingale. He simply nodded, taking another sip from his punch.

“Yeah, I am. Nice to meet you, Rainbow Dash I assume?”

Rainbow Dash nodded and smirked, crossing her hooves. “Good, good, you’ve already heard of me. Makes sense, since I’m the most awesome pony in town.” She looked over Nightingale, her analytical gaze returning in force. “So, you know how to use those wings?”

Nightingale frowned in confusion, wondering where this conversation was headed. “Uh, sure. Had to fly a lot in my last… place of work.” ‘Yeah, that euphemism works well.’

Rainbow narrowed her eyes at Nightingale, her smirk still visibly present. “What’s your wing power at, then?”

Nightingale took another sip of his punch, thoroughly enjoying the tangy flavor at this point before responding. “Last time I measured? Maximum came up as 14.2. Usually hovered around twelve or thirteen.” It only made sense for his wing power to be that high—Fremitus Canis, as well as the others of his class and station, had placed high importance on their pegasus units to fly with speed and agility. Fourteen was only average for the decurions of Nightingale’s former position. Before reaching the west, Nightingale had usually measured around nine or ten.

Rainbow Dash seemed impressed, though only mildly so. “Nice, nice.” She looked away for a few moments, seemingly distracted by something, before returning her attention to Nightingale. “You know how to do weather work?”

Nightingale looked up from his punch, staring straight ahead for a few moments before returning his gaze to Rainbow Dash. “Not particularly, no. Can’t say I’ve ever done weather work before.”

Rainbow, in turn, raised an eyebrow, as if confused by his answer. “Never done weather work? Where in Equestria do you come from? A pegasus like you should have some experience with it.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Nightingale answered simply, frowning at his now empty cup. “Doesn’t matter.”

Rainbow looked at Nightingale as if he had grown a third eye, before sighing lowly. “Well, that’ doesn’t matter. Can always teach ya’.” She frowned slightly, before continuing. “Listen, if you ever need a job, look up the local weatherponies. I’m their captain, see, and we could use somepony like you—especially a few months from now.”

Nightingale nodded, not bothering to tell her that he already held a job at Sweet Apple Acres. He watched as she left, a small frown on his face, before getting up from the couch himself. He needed some more punch.

He made his way towards a table set with punch and other beverages, holding his empty cup in hoof. Smiling at a few passerby’s and returning a few “welcomes,” he had nearly made it to the table when, suddenly, his vision became dark, blocked by something that had been slipped over his face.

“Huh? What? What’s going on?” He questioned, making to turn around yet held in place by a strong pair of what seemed to be hooves.

“Hey, come on!” Dread filled Nightingale’s stomach as he heard the familiarly light voice in his ear. “It’s time for Pin the Tail on the Pony! Gather around, ‘cause Birthday Colt is going first!”

‘Birthday Colt?’ Nightingale cringed inwardly at the title, simply giving up his struggle. ‘It’s not even my birthday. What’s going on?’

“You see, Nightingale,” Pinkie Pie started, though Nightingale did not bother to let her know that he could not in fact see. A furry object was placed in his hooves, and the hooves that held him in place began to spin him around. “You’ve gotta put that tail on the pony after we spin you around! We’re not telling you where the poster is, ‘cause that’s not fun!”

Nightingale’s mouth curled into a grimace as the spinning thankfully stopped. Stumbling around blindly, Nightingale listened closely, unsure of what exactly to do.

“Come on, Nighty Wighty!” He would have been annoyed by the pet nickname, had it not been for the circumstances. “Go on and pin that tail! Pin that tail!”

Pinkie Pie’s words quickly became a chant, as the ponies gathered around started to follow. A chorus of ‘pin that tail’ rang around him, turning into a blend of sound and voice that Nightingale was not sure he could follow. Despite that, however, Nightingale only wished for the torment to end, and so focused his hearing. The gathered ponies had seemingly arrayed themselves in a aisle towards an unknown end, as if outlining his path to the end. Nodding to himself, Nightingale took several dainty steps forward, taking good care not to trip and fall. Humiliation would not do here.

Step by step, Nightingale went forwards, his tail-bearing hoof scanning his front to make sure he did not walk into anything. The chant around him seemed to grow louder, signaling his progress, until finally, with a stumble, Nightingale slapped the tail onto what seemed to be a wall. The barn around him exploded with cheers, and Nightingale raised a hoof, taking off the blindfold on his face.

“Thank Celestia,’ he thought, a relieved sigh escaping his mouth as he gazed at the tail, not quite pinned where it belonged yet still in the generally proper area. Ignoring the cheers of delight around him as the blindfold was passed along to another pony, Nightingale stumbled towards the punch table, having lost his original cup in the initial frenzy. He grabbed another cup, filling it to the brim with crimson punch, and made his way back to his couch.

Nightingale plopped down with a fatigued sigh, ignoring the droplets of punch that splashed onto him, and rubbed a hoof against his face. A small grin crept up, threatening to turn into a full-fledged smile.

‘Tiring, really tiring. Nightingale thought. Don’t think I could handle another one of these parties in a long time, but… still,’ He paused to take a sip of his punch.. ‘I could definitely get used to this. Maybe it could be home.’

Nightingale laid his head back against the couch, closing his eyes in a feeble attempt to rest them, despite the rambunctious sounds his ears were taking in.

At least the punch was good.