Each and Every
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Written by SunsetSpecter
I wake up to the sounds of the songbirds calling out to the sun each morning. I walk the fifteen steps to my bathroom and brush my brown mane each morning. I walk down the fourteen steps in my two story house, seven houses down from Sugarcube Corner, each morning. Depending on what I manage to keep stocked in my fridge I have breakfast, most mornings. The last vestiges of sleep are ripped from my mind as the kettle whistles atop the stove each morning. Completely independent of the existence of breakfast, I do manage to have a cup of caffeinated tea at my small well-worn table each morning. The simple act of pouring hot herb saturated water down my muzzle is enough to get me moving each morning. I check the clock as the last of the warm slightly bitter liquid empties itself from one of my many second-hoof teacups as my aqua eyes spot the hands pointing to seven forty five, each morning. I sigh as the tap makes quick work of the residue at the bottom of the cup before the old ceramic manages to stain any further, and place the rinsed cup amongst the other dishes waiting a proper wash, each morning. I walk the twenty six steps from the sink to the front door and I bite the handle opening myself to the morning air, the taste of antiquated brass lingering in my mouth, each morning. My house is pressed against the busy street not affording me a lawn, which is fine, as I don’t really have time to care for one. I turn left and begin the fifteen minute walk which will bring me to the edge of town each morning. I pass the assorted gathering of ponies moving about on the road, most offer a friendly wave or say hello. I reciprocate the gesture, even waving enthusiastically to the bubbly mail mare as she flies overhead each morning.
~ Nopony ever calls me by name… every morning. ~
I turn the corner and cross over the small bridge spanning the river which encircles the center of town, letting the wind play over my tan hide. Thinking for a moment that I should pause and enjoy the sensation of air flowing over me, if only to pretend, even for a moment, that I could join it. However I trot on knowing full well where my place in the world is, each morning. Passing by the last of the gathered structures comprising Ponyville, I turn and trot with a slight spring in my step up the path leading to my place of employment, each morning. My heart lightens slightly as I see my workspace once more, next to the small shop where the ruby colored mare is lifting the closed sign off the door with her magic, each morning. She waves as she passes through the doorframe, we don’t talk much anymore seeing that long ago I tried to make a pass at her, only to find out the one mare I had more than a fleeting conversation with wasn't into stallions. From the tone of her voice I wasn’t sure if that was really the case or if that had just been a convenient way to let me down without too much personal guilt on her part. Even though many seasons have passed since that day, the sting of her rejection still burned a tiny part of my heart, each morning. Pushing my emotions aside I step onto the cold cement floor, my hooves leaving a trail of fresh dust from the road washed from the condensation gathered on the gray floor from the cool summer night. My anvil sits in the center of the workshop, the hammer face dulled by the oxidation set in overnight. I use a wire brush to scrape the rust free from my heavy friend each morning. It is a shame I can’t do the same to the rust colored anvil adorning both of my flanks.
~ It seems the older I get, the more worn my Cutie Mark appears… every morning. ~
I scrape out the ashes in the firepot with a self-made tool, placing the burnt mixture into the wooden barrel set there specifically for that reason, each morning. Taking my time and with considerable care I fill the now clean firepot with a layer of coal, then coke, then another layer of coal while checking over my arrangement knowing that if I mess up my initial layout I’ll be fighting with the flames all day to get any working temperature out of the forge. Using a match and a loose sheet from yesterday’s Ponyville Express I use my hoof to manually pump the bellows, bringing the forge to life after its nightly slumber each morning. Satisfied with how the fire has settled upon the coals, the familiar crack of the coke overheating in the forge and the resulting light show of sparks showering my hide lets me know everything is going smoothly. I let the waterwheel take over the bellows and pat out the small smoldering patch of fur each morning. My boss trots in holding aloft a cup of coffee and a small stack of papers, setting each down amid the mass of tools and half-finished orders each morning. We exchange brief pleasantries before she dives right to business, letting me know the specifics on the specialty orders and which ones need to come before others each morning. A bell rings from the shop and the mare hurriedly leaves me alone surrounded by my various metalworking tools as the first customer trots in the front door each morning. It’s a good thing that the shop stays busy with the solid flow of work provided by the hard working ponies of this town. I really should not complain as a farrier that the residents seem to go through horseshoes as if they were made of paper.
~ It helps me not think about what I was missing out on… every morning. ~
Iron meets forge, and after a measured amount of time and heat, the now cherry red iron meets hammer as I begin to form the metal to its particularly specified shape each morning. The sounds of my hammer ringing out across the land echoing faintly back from the hilltops and distant buildings each morning. The shop is rather isolated; nestled into the bank of the river low on the shore. There are no other businesses near the forge and definitely nopony living nearby. I couldn’t blame them; the constant sound of hammering would drive a normal pony mad each morning. I, on the other hoof, found the rhythmic singing of metal rather soothing as the sweat started to build a slick layer over my coat each morning. Steam geysered out of the tin pail next to the worn iron anvil as the finishing touches are solidified onto the piece as the remaining heat from the metal is quenched away. The moisture on my brow meets the moisture rising from the drying shoe as I place the finished pair on the small counter between my workspace and the shop with my teeth. I turn around with the taste of fresh fired metal in my mouth as the mare’s horn levitates them into the shop for packaging each morning. Time slowly drips past like the perspiration off my shoulders. It is a hot job, working in the summer heat next to a four thousand degree forge, but I remember to stay hydrated as I take a sip of my water. Seeing as the oversized hoofmade metal mug was nearly empty, my eyes flicked to the clock above the door knowing that it was about time for lunch. I bit down on the canvas wrapped handle and carried it over to the faucet, filling the stainless steel ugly mug to the brim before carrying the heavy vessel back to where it rightfully sat. I shoveled more coal into the forge and let the fires burn lazily, knowing that the green eyed mare would enter shortly carrying some form of lunch, for she had long since given up the argument of me remembering to eat whilst in the middle of working.
~ It was that one small act of kindness that got me out of bed… every day. ~
The sun passes its zenith each day. I finish eating my daffodil sandwich bought at the deli down the road. Whether it was pure convenience, or the food there really was just that good, it was where the mare went for lunch most of the time. In the end it never really mattered where she ended up going, the unicorn would always bring me something back to settle my growling stomach each day. A swig from my ugly mug and I turn back to my work each day. The curtain separating the workshop and the back room fluttered open as a very large red earth pony stepped into my shop. I knew the stallion by name, though I was almost certain he didn’t know mine. This was not daily occurrence, though it happened often enough seeing as his powerful hooves made dinner plates of my finely crafted shoes with such simple an act as walking, or standing for that matter. The stallion sheepishly laid a set of mashed metal shoes onto my bench from out of his saddle bags telling me some nonsense about having to stop a runaway train as the reason why the four tempered tool steel shoes painstakingly crafted under my hammer were now nothing more than battered slag. I nodded to the apologetic pony as he returned to the front of the shop clearly more hurt at the dent in his wallet than the dent in my pride. I look at the ruined metal and think of how I could forge stronger shoes for the Apple family’s oldest brother.
~ I will strive to do better, just like I tell myself I will strive to find happiness… every day. ~
The stack of orders slowly dwindles until there is only one remaining upon my workbench. Picking it up I look over the specifics. I wipe my brow free of the buildup of grime and coal dust,my tan coat now more than a few shades grayer due to the ash and dust. The perspiration coating my fur helping the mixture matt itself further into my hide each day. Nothing requiring any excessive special care in the last order so I crank the bellows to aid in my smithing. I set my hammer next to my anvil in preparation for the glowing iron slowly heating up in the burning maw of the forge. I wait for the metal to reach the right temperature knowing that this last order is the only thing keeping me from working on my project, my ‘personal’ project, the only thing that keeps me working as hard as I do towards the end of each day. One of the fringe benefits of being a blacksmith, even if I was just a farrier, was access to the workshop after business hours along with the freedom to make whatever my heart could imagine. For the past two years I spent that time crafting one very special project each evening. The smell of rapidly cooled iron invaded my nostrils for the last time as I let the last of the order fall into the pail. Taking a moment to breath I walked into the back room of the shop and scribbled my time and orders completed down in the books as neatly as my overtired body would allow, each evening. I overhead the unicorn talking to the last customer, assuring the agitated mare that I would craft only the best horseshoes for her young colt unlike the mass produced garbage out of Fillydelphia. I waited for the mare to leave before poking my head through the curtain watching the unicorn finish writing down the order with a huff. I had to ask her, just one question, why was this so hard?
~ All I needed was tomorrow off, was that too much to ask, not to be expected to work… every day? ~
She was not happy, her tone of voice betraying all the underlying emotions I suspected were there. Not on my accord, but the stress of running a business single-hoofedly when your only blacksmith just asks for a day off out of the blue. Not caring one bit for my feelings or reasons, more on the bottom line and how hard it was going to be to catch up, not that she was the one working so hard that her muscles were taut as piano wire, each evening. Reluctantly she agreed making the excuse that she could spend the day in town for once, I didn’t really care for her reasoning, or if she actually agreed in the first place. Asking her was more of a formality in my mind as she droned on about what she would do with her surprise day off, my brain was already working double trying to remember if I had in fact finished every last detail of my project. The project, which the still blathering unicorn had so often referred to as a colossal waste of my time and metal, but I paid the mare no heed as I continued to work on it for so long into each evening. I turned and walked back through the doorways into the shop and pulled the cover off the ponyquin wearing the end result of two years of work glistening against the lantern light each evening. The happy sweat of my brow and the slow meaningful hammer strikes filled with my heart and soul, each evening. This evening, however was different. There were only two more parts that I needed to complete. I cranked the forge into high gear letting the bellows torture the coals within the fire pot as the flames leapt higher than they were ever needed to form shoes.
~ This evening, is not like every other evening… finally. ~
My legs protested from a full day’s work as my hooves worked the metal hot from the belching forge. Flames and embers played over the shop as hammer met metal sending glowing slag flying in all directions. I barely noticed when the red hot flakes of carbon buried themselves into my hide. I did smell the aroma of burning fur as I patted out another small splotch of charred coat letting the piece rest back in the nurturing flames. Using tools one would not normally associate with a farrier, I shaped the metal smooth with slow calm strikes of a rounded hammer over the anvil, the metal almost making a happy sound as the hammer teased it into shape. I was careful setting the metal to rest at the bottom of a trough filled with oil. Due to the temper I wanted, water would not suffice this evening. The forge blazed bright once more throwing shadows of my form across the workshop as the natural light waned as the sun started to fall behind the treetops of the Everfree Forest to the west. I heated up the last piece and waited as the water driven bellows coaxed the last fire I would need tonight from the dying coals. My hammer rang for the last time tonight, much to the gratitude of the woodland creatures who made their home near the shop as I released the waterwheel from its duty of working the artificial lungs swapping the belt over to the grinding wheel. Princess Luna’s moon hung low in the sky watching over my tired form as I delicately polished the two final additions to my work. Sparks flew from the metal like miniature stars as the stone worked my rough hammer marks smooth on the blackened metal.
~ I've lost track of time, no matter, it’s finished… finally. ~
After fixing the last of the rivets to the canvas barding holding the whole garment together, I stepped back nearly setting my already burnt tail alight in the remnants of the coals. I beheld my creation which two years ago was only a flicker in my mind’s eye. I guess it all started at the Summer Sun Celebration. Sure there was plenty of excitement that day with the whole Nightmare Moon incident but what caught my attention was the armor the ethereal alicorn wore. I knew that I would never have access to metal like that so I made do with the strongest alloys available to me. It was by luck alone that the overbuilt Apple family stallion happened to contact this particular smith requesting shoes that could stand up to rigorous farm work. He was willing to pay the Bits and I happily agreed on the condition that he always returns the worn shoes to my bench using the excuse of wanting to see how he managed to break them. With the battered metal along with buying some of the larger parts from the foundry with money from my own pocket, I started to shape the armor held only in my mind’s eye each evening. I guess, in a way, most of the metal forged into this highly detailed and articulated garment was that of my failures brought back to the flame and set right by my hammer. Poetic, but I tried not to think about it as I toiled away each evening. My eyes followed the sharp curves of the armor, taking in the garment as a whole no longer looking at each individual part in overly critical detail. The dying light of the forge mixed with the flickering of the lanterns sending shimmers and sparkles across the blackened metal accented with what little silver I could afford. It was elegant, at least in my perspective, nothing remotely close to the grandeur displayed on the majestic hide of the living nightmare, but the elements were there. Dusting myself off roughly with a hopefully clean rag like I did each evening. I doused the forge letting the overworked coals finally sleep, scooping the resulting mush into the barrel not wanting it to solidify within the forge. For I had somewhere I needed to be tomorrow morning and would not be able to clean it then.
~ Somewhere important… finally. ~
I carefully released the armor from the ponyquin and settled it across my back after threading my neck though the collar. There really was no other way to carry something of its shape and bulk without a cart and for once in a long while I was proud of my work. I would gladly wear it home. Who cares if anypony saw me, let them stare because tomorrow I had an appointment in Canterlot. The trip home was quick, sure I was tired, but I was always tired after working the anvil all day. What made the journey speedy this night was with every step was the unmistakable clatter of armored plates sliding over one another, segmented protection covering my form from collar to hoof. My heart fluttered with each sound, happy metal ringing out against its partners causing a chorus to chime out into the darkness. Opening the door to my home I bounded up the fourteen stairs and carefully removed the armor, letting it occupy the bedding in my stead. I need a shower, a longer shower than I normally would take, for I had to be clean tomorrow and not just my normal standard of clean. I lathered my coat a fifth time and scrubbed with all my might in the hopes of finally seeing clear water run from my now much lighter tan fur and much more cherry brown colored mane. Drying myself in a clean towel I stepped back into my bedroom running a mental checklist to see if I had forgotten anything.Dropping the towel onto the floor by the bed, I began to lay out what I was going to need for tomorrow’s trip next to the glistening metallic plates. Satisfied that I had in fact secured everything I was going to need I looked again at the armor, allowing my eyes to caress the finer details inlaid upon the metallic form. I moved everything onto a laid out sheet covering the well-trod wooden floor. I paused a moment looking once more to the finally completed labor of love before blowing out the candle next to me bed laying my head down to slumber.
~ It is time… this morning. ~
I woke myself before the songbirds had even started their warm up, the faintest hints of Princess Celestia’s sun poking above the horizon. I let my head rest on the pillow once again going over the order of things needed for today. After assuring myself once more that everything was, in fact, accounted for I rolled out of bed, just like every morning. I brushed my mane, granted with more care today, just like every morning. However that is where the similarities ended and my heart skipped a beat as I laid eyes upon the items assembled on the sheet in the middle of the floor this morning. I walked over to the dresser and pulled free a bottle of scented oil applying some over my flanks before stepping onto the sheet holding the armor, my armor. Cool metal met fur as I carefully slid the suit on once more, not really afraid of hurting it or scuffing the finish, more so out of respect for I knew exactly how much time and effort went into its construction. It fit perfectly as I snugged the last strap taut, properly this time unlike the hasty adornment last night. I took a few experimental trots around my small bedroom nearly grinning from ear to ear as the plates articulated smoothly across my hide. The noise of the metal moving was diminished greatly by being properly secured around my legs and body this morning. I grabbed up all the items laid out on the sheet and placed them in the nicest saddle bags I had. They were nothing more than plain black canvas accented with silver trim, but they were new and bought specifically for this day. I looked at myself in the floor mirror one last time before walking down the stairs into the kitchen, bypassing even my every morning tea, and walked out the door making a right to head to the train station this morning. Everypony stopped and looked as I passed them this morning. The only pony seemingly not affected by my dramatic appearance was the bubbly mail mare as she enthusiastically waved at me from above. I nodded sincerely to the pegasus as she banked around the block on her usual morning routine. After a longer walk than my usual journey I arrived at the train station, and after placing my Bits on the counter, much to the inquisitive eye of the staffer, he gave me my ticket and I boarded the train. I sat my heavily armored rump down on a bench in a rather unoccupied car. As the train filled nopony would sit near me this morning. Even though I swung a hammer for a living, I was not a naturally large pony. However, the armor I was wearing made it appear as if I was twice my size this morning. I smiled at a foal who had stuck his head out from behind a bench further up the train car who then promptly retreated behind the safe cover of thinly padded metal upon me noticing him. After a few hours the express train arrived at the Canterlot station and I disembarked along with most of the other riders.
~ I have an appointment to keep… this day. ~
I walked quickly through the streets of the capital ignoring the high society ponies watching me. I was much too occupied with the architecture of the city itself. I was too immersed in the archways and columned facades to notice the two Royal Guard unicorns stepping into line behind me keeping pace flanking either side of me their shining gold and blue armor, a stark contrast to my polished black and silver. It was only until I set hoof on the stairs leading up to the castle itself did one of them speak up asking me what my business was. I replied simply showing the kind stallion my letter proving that I did in fact have an appointment at the Royal Court this day. Neither of them inquired as to why I was dressed as I was and helpfully escorted me to the waiting room just outside the Grand Chamber. I could not help but hold my head high as ponyfolk seemed to melt away from in front of our path as they lead me to a well-padded bench. I thanked them for their time and assistance as the pair nodded and trotted off in the direction from whence we came as I took a seat waiting for my name to be called. Time passed, I was grateful to myself that I had remembered to pack something to eat, if only a simple bag of dried oats. I dared not leave the audience hall for fear of missing my chance for a royal meeting this day. The sun was sinking low in the sky as the windows splayed their shadows higher and higher on the eastern wall. I was getting hungry and tired from sitting in one place for so long, though I dared not relinquish my seat.
~ That was your name, get up… move! ~
I jerked to life, standing on unsteady legs as my heart pounded hard in my chest. This was it, this was really it. The time to show my skills, the time to show everypony that I was in fact more than just a simple farrier, that I could live up to my family's expectations. I took a breath, then another, walking steadily towards the massive engraved wooden doors separating this waiting hall from the Grand Chamber. Each step closer to the towering doors was one more step upon my quickly fraying nerves. The doors creaked open and it felt like I had no choice but to walk through them. There she was, head buried in paperwork, but still the most regal being I’ve ever laid my commoner eyes upon. No less than three steps into the room I practically slammed my muzzle to the floor in an overly respectful bow. The Princess of the Sun started in on what I assumed was her normal overly rehearsed greeting to everypony that walked through those doors when her speech cut off abruptly. I stole a glance in her direction only to find her walking towards my armored form, still clutching the ground for dear life. I could have been on fire and would not have moved a hoof in that moment as the Princess asked me to rise, inquiring what I was after dressed as such in her presence. Were it not for her slightly humored look I would have turned tail and ran right then, however her eyes held me in their grasp and I found my muzzle issuing forth the words my brain was commanding it to. I told the living Goddess who I was, and why I was there. Letting her know that I hoped that there might be a position within the Royal Guard armories for a blacksmith of my skills, I even managed to do complete turn so that the eternal eyes could look upon the armor in full, my armor. The Princess seemed to think for a moment, then with what I felt was honest sadness in her voice informed me that while she thought my skills far more than adequate for a position within the armory she was nearly sure there was not an opening available. I was crestfallen, but still held out brief hope as she sent a scribe to the armory to double check for her. That too was dashed as I turned towards the glowing alicorn. I thanked her honestly from the bottom of my heart for her time and gave my name and address to the scribe for future reference should a position become available. With my head hanging low, I walked back out through the massive doors and straight through to the palace entrance as the sun lowered itself from the sky later than usual as Princess Celestia had taken extra time from her day to make sure on my behalf, this evening.
~ I guess I will just go home and wake up to the songbirds just like… every morning. ~
I waited on the platform of the Canterlot station for my train to arrive, the moonlight softly reflected off the armor, my armor. Sadness filled my heart, but not because I was a failure, no, I had been assured that my skills were well above par and coming from the Princess that really meant something, if only to me. The sound of the train pulling in drowned out the sound of two pegasus ponies landing next to me followed by a pony of a much larger wingspan.
“Excuse me… are you, by any chance Habermann?”
I was not paying attention, focusing on trying to navigate my armored form through the crowd of tired ponies milling about the platform to reach my train this evening. A midnight blue wing rested upon my unarmored neck and I froze, feathers soft as the finest silk in all of Equestria brushed my cheek.
“I-I’m sorry, but are you Habermann?”
I followed the wing to its owner and for the second time today my face made contact with the ground in a reverent bow. I nodded meekly to the royal voice above me.
“Oh I’m glad I caught you, my older sister mentioned you as we met on the balcony.” I looked up into the cyan eyes of the alicorn standing above me. “We should talk.”
____~~~~~____
I wake up to the sounds of the rest of the city slumbering, just like every night. I trot into the bathroom and brush my groomed cherry brown mane, just like every night. I get dressed in my finest apron to protect my tan fur from the scorching embers, just like every night. I walk down the hall past the display cases filled with my creations of wondrous armor in every metal and finish, just like every night. I enter my kitchen and fix a cup of tea from the kettle boiling atop the stove, sitting down to enjoy a fresh breakfast at my familiar small well-worn table, just like every night. When the last vestiges of sleep have lifted from my mind, I leave my home and walk down the empty streets under the glow of the gas lamps to the city forge, just like every night. A spring in my step and a smile on my face, I enter my workshop taking a brief moment to look over the supplies on hoof and await the arrival of the night’s work, just like every night. The door opens and Princess Luna walks into the well kept workshop flanked by two of her Night Guards wearing shiny black armor, my armor. I bow courteously and begin readying my workspace for the nights activities in the magically cooled forge, just like every night.
“Hello Habermann, how are you this fine night?”
~ I smile, just like each and every night. ~
“I’m wonderful, how are you Princess?”
