Jazz is a Stallion's Soul
Jazz is a Stallion’s Soul
It was a stormy day when Jazz arrived in Manehatten. He had no money to rent an apartment when he arrived, so he stayed with a colthood friend of his. A mare. They eventually fell in love, as they were spotted together most of the time. Mostly at a café they frequent. Jazz’s marefriend was a quiet pony. She never talked much. Most of the time she just listened to the stories Jazz told her. Most ponies believe it was stories of his colthood, which nopony knows about except him. Nopony even knows how he got his cutie mark. She was probably the person who knew him best. Sadly, they were only together 3 months. Jazz never broke up with her, and she didn’t break up with him. Instead it was tragedy that drove them apart. Fate had claimed her 50 stories down onto the cold, Manehatten concrete. Suicide. Normally, when Jazz left her alone in her apartment for gigs, it was only for about 2 hours. However, on this particular night, he was gone for four. She started to worry. He never took that long, so she panicked, and jumped. Jazz was across the street from her apartment when she hit the pavement. He didn’t blink, he didn’t close his eyes. He stood there and watched as her life was extinguished in a split second. That was the last anypony ever saw of him. He was never seen in Manehatten again.
It was raining when the train Jazz was on arrived in Appaloosa. He had gotten a gig at the local saloon there. He got off the train and stood in the cold, wet rain for a second. He was thinking about her, his former marefriend. He then shook the thought out of head and proceeded to the saloon for his gig. He arrived at the saloon early, something he had never done before at any gig he’s done. All of the seats and tables were empty, nopony had shown up yet. The only pony in the saloon was the bartender. The bartender welcomed Jazz with a hearty hello. Now Jazz was the standard pegasus, he was arrogant and proud. But deep down he was a nice guy. He instantly engaged the bartender in conversation. It was at this point that ponies started coming in for the show. But Jazz ignored them for the moment. He was good at what he did. He never had to practice for a gig. He needed only to warm up for ten minutes or so and he was able to play his songs perfectly. But right now he was in the middle of telling the bartender a story. Most speculate he told the bartender about how he got his cutie mark. But the patrons of the saloon only saw him there. The only pony that talked to him was the bartender. After about thirty minutes of talking to the bartender, it was time for Jazz to play his show. According to those that were there, the songs he played were the most beautiful he had ever played so far. Most believed he was inspired by the death of the mare he knew in Manehatten. After the show, Jazz received his payment from the saloon owner. 100 bits. Not enough to get to his next gig in Fillydelphia, and he had to leave tomorrow. He tried to get the owner of the saloon to schedule another show, but the owner wasn’t planning on scheduling another show tomorrow. So Jazz took a seat at the bar. The bartender, who had overheard what had happened, walked up to Jazz a placed a slip of paper in front of him. It was a train ticket to Fillydelphia. The bartender had planned on seeing Jazz play again in Fillydelphia. But since Jazz did not have enough money to buy a ticket himself, he offered up his own. This act of kindness moved Jazz, and he thanked him greatly. The bartender also offered to pay for a room in the inn for Jazz. The bartender gave Jazz the bits he needed for the room and proceeded to start closing up the saloon. Jazz thanked the bartender as he left to go to the inn. That would be the last time Jazz would see him. Jazz was awoken abruptly the next morning to the sound of ponies screaming and running around. He went outside to find that the saloon was on fire. Somepony had committed arson. When the fire was finally put out, the charred body of the bartender was found. He had just opened the saloon for the day when the arsonist attacked. The bartender was behind the bar, and the fires started right in front of the bar, trapping him. He had no choice but to burn alive. Jazz stared at the bartender’s charred body. He stared at it the same way he did when his marefriend hit the ground and died in Manehatten. He was unmoved. It was as if it were a natural thing. After that he packed his things and left Appaloosa. Nopony ever saw him again in Appaloosa. Nopony even reported him ever getting on a train. In fact, he did not get on the train. He decided to keep the one thing that reminded him of the bartender, the train ticket. Jazz held it in his hand and looked at it as he walked to Fillydelphia. He would never forget the kind hearted pony he had met in Appaloosa. He put the ticket away and focused himself on the path ahead. He had a gig to get too.
It was another stormy night. Jazz walked into Fillydelphia, his sax and 100 bits in hoof. He was, surprisingly, a few days early for his gig. He had no place to stay nor did he have enough bits to stay at an inn. He could not just sleep on a bench, not in the rain. He would get a cold, not be able to perform, and then he wouldn’t get paid. Jazz decided the best thing for him to do was to sleep on a cloud outside for the night. He flew up and found a decent sized cloud and attempted to go to sleep. Suddenly, he was awoken by a pegasus pony, a female one, who just happened to fly by on her way home and spotted him. She offered him a spot on her couch at her place. Jazz graciously accepted, and followed her to her home. On the way, the young mare proceeded to tell Jazz about her. Her family, her fillyhood, how she got her cutie mark, and how she came to live in Fillydelphia, among other things. This was different for Jazz. He never had anypony tell him about their personal lives. It was always Jazz who told others about himself. He was always the speaker, never the listener. He enjoyed it, listening to the young mare talk about herself. He was tired of talking about himself, and hearing someone else’s life story was a relief to him. When Jazz got to his new friend’s home she gave him a pillow and blanket and bid him goodnight, then went off to bed. Jazz told her goodnight in return and laid down on the couch. He thought of the other two ponies he had met so far, and what became of them in the end. He wondered if anything would happen to this pony, and he shuttered. He drove the thought out of his head and went to sleep. Jazz stayed at the young mare’s house for his entire stay in Fillydelphia. He told her that he was playing a solo concert at the theatre, and played a little for her with his saxophone. She told Jazz how much she would love to go, but she had no money for a ticket. Jazz asked her how much the tickets cost. She told him the tickets cost 100 bits. Jazz then pulled out the 100 bits he had on him and gave them to her. She could now go and see him play. She smiled and hugged him. It was the first time Jazz had been hugged by anypony in a very long time. Jazz’s concert was tomorrow night, and it was going to be the biggest one he has ever played. He needed to get ready, even now more than ever. Jazz left early from the young mare’s house so he would have extra time to prepare before he went on. The young mare wished him good luck as he left. As soon as Jazz left, the young mare began preparing herself for the concert. She wanted to look good for her new friend. She left as soon as she was ready. She was running late. It would have been faster for the young pegasus to fly there, but she decided to head over to the concert on hoof. It was time for Jazz to go on. He walked on stage, and began playing a sad, somber jazz piece. It was something he made up as he played, and it was the best song he had played yet. The young mare’s walk started speeding up to a trot. She heard Jazz’s saxophone in the distance. She had to hurry. But suddenly, she was ambushed by a group of stallions and was pulled into an alleyway. The ambushers proceeded to beat her. They beat the young mare continuously, even after she had finally died. Jazz, who did not know whether the young mare was in attendance or not, continued to play his beautiful blues jazz piece. He had never known what had happened to the young mare. But the song he played sounded as though he did. It sounded as if he had always known. It was a song befitting the poor, young mare’s death. It sounded as though he was playing for her funeral, before she actually had it. After he was finished playing, Jazz looked out into the audience for the young mare. He ignored the standing ovation that was being given to him and looked for her, only her. He did not see her. Jazz walked off the stage, collected his pay, and left the theatre. He never bothered to find out what had happened to the young mare. He knew how much she wanted to go, he even got her a ticket for her to go. He knew she would never miss this. At that moment he knew why she did not show up. She was dead, murdered on the way to the show she was so excited for. Jazz immediately left town. Just like all the others, it was time to put his despair behind him and move on. But this time his despair had caught up to him, and he shed a tear. It was raining.
A few days later, Jazz was walking up a lush, rolling green hill. As he reached the top of the hill, he looked out at his next destination. It was a small, peaceful town. A place were the ponies were diverse and friendly. The town was called Ponyville, and as Jazz looked out upon it he couldn’t help but notice that something was strange. It was sunny. Not a cloud was in the sky nor did it even remotely look it was going to rain. It was different, but Jazz enjoyed this difference. It was a sign for him, a sign that his long journey was finally over. It was time for him to settle down, and Ponyville was the perfect place for that. He smiled, he felt the warmth of the sun wash over his despair. “It’s time for me to start a new life. It’s time for me begin anew.”
The End
