Nothling

It’s cold in the royal courtroom. Not because of the temperature, but because of the coldness in the pony's hearts around me. There is no love here. My lips tremble and the metal cage that I’m in rumbles as it’s wheeled towards the front of the room. It won't be long now. I just wish I could’ve seen Dusk one last time.

I peer through the bars as rows of ponies move past. A range of emotions to choose from, not one of them kind, most of them like stone. The late evening sun shines through the stained glass windows high above, casting long, colorful rays through the courtroom. Contrasting against my grey cage as it rolls through the light coming in between the bars, like shutters. As each shadow passes over my eyes, my heart quickens.

My destination approaches.

High up on thrones of marble and crystal, sit the three princesses. The fourth throne sits empty. Something wet rolls down my cheek and lands on the dull metal floor with a splash. I sit in my cage, trying to stop my own chittering, but it’s futile. I no longer feel like a monster; I simply feel pathetic.

I made a mistake, leaving all those years ago.

I never should have come here.

****

I hold the glass tube in my magic, slowly rotating it over the flame. There’s no visual cue, but I can tell the glass is hot enough now, applying an even pressure to either side of it. The two sides slowly come together and I make sure to pump the bellow with my hoof, keeping the air pressure in the tube consistent so it doesn’t burst at the bend. Once it reaches a ninety-degree angle, I move the tube away from the heat and over to my workbench to cool.

Perfect, I think, removing my goggles. It doesn’t look anything like the letter ‘R’ yet, but it will soon enough. I glance up at the workshop clock.

8:38.

I frown. Oh... well, maybe not tonight.

Suddenly, a cold numbness deep within my core makes itself known.

I hold a foreleg up to my chest. “Nhg,” I groan, “not already,” I complain aloud, moving away from the workbench and shutting the gas off with my hoof.

I walk tiredly over to the back of the workshop, where a row of large wooden shelves sit against the wall. I stop in front of the one furthest to the left, designated ‘to deliver’ and look for the spot plainly labeled ‘Gig’ with a taped-on piece of paper. Above the paper on the shelf sits a metal stage light with colored filters.

Gig really had to stop letting ponies set their own lighting patterns, especially that one unicorn mare with the blue hair. She always burns the rods out. Hopefully this one will last longer – I made sure to charge the rods to withstand a higher magical threshold, which was probably why I felt hollow so close to my last delivery.

Maybe I could deliver this one a couple days early; it was finished after all. I grab the spotlight in my magic and levitate it off of the shelf. I trot to the door and pick up my plain, brownish-green saddle bags near the entrance, slipping the light into the largest compartment.

There, I think. Now I'll just be able to swing by during my collection tomorrow morning and drop it off. Maybe I’ll even get a little extra gratitude for delivering it early.

Hmm, maybe I should start delivering all my orders early. I smile before the emptiness comes back again, causing me to stumble.

“Mmph,” I groan, furrowing my eyebrows. I really need to get some rest, save as much energy as I can until tomorrow. I just have to make it till then.

I flip the one lamp in the room off, leaving the neon signs near the front store window as the only light source. Not that I needed any to see. I then begin my slow trek up the stairs in the hall and into the top floor of the building, which served as my apartment.

The apartment is nothing more than an office space that I managed to cram with a small cot, a magical heating oven, and a round dining table – if I could even call it that – with two rickety wooden chairs on either side. The chair furthest from the so-called ‘kitchen’ has noticeably more dust than the other.

I don’t even require a proper dining room or kitchen really. I only need the bare minimum in case anypony comes into my apartment, so I don’t look suspicious.

I sigh, slowly walking over to the side of my skinny cot and pulling myself up onto it, causing it to creak and bend in the center as I did. I probably could’ve afforded a better one if I raised my prices, but keeping them low tended to garner better emotions to feed off of. And, after all, a bed is better than no bed.

I settle down, resting my head on my flat, feather pillow and pull the beige sheet up to my neck with my hooves. I guess the one thing I really could use was a thicker sheet; this one isn't warm enough to get rid of the constant, ever-so-present cold feeling within me.

Then again... I don’t think anything would take that away.

I finally let my eyes slide close, already feeling like I’m floating away. To conserve energy until morning, I let my Unicorn form drop right before I fall asleep, an indigo-colored flash filling the room for a second before Luna’s night finally takes me.

****

I wake up stiffly in the exact same position I had fallen asleep in. My eyes not needing to adjust to the light, I look down at my alarm clock on the floor, which is right next to the bed.

7:55. Just a few minutes shy of going off.

I quickly place a hoof on its top, ceasing the quiet ticking before sitting up and looking around.

The same dull room greets me, unchanged. As always. I roll out of the bed and stand; no joints pop as I do so. I make a bound for the bathroom and stumble, falling to my knees.

“Oof!” I grunt as I hit the floor. I look down at my legs, almost completely numb, like I had been sleeping with my hooves in ice-water. Skinny black twigs greet me and I wince, shivering. A purple flash quickly lights up the room, and the black things disappear, though the numbness remains, perhaps even made worse.

I stand unsteadily and slowly make my way into the bathroom with my head held low. Upon entering, I look up at myself in the mirror.

A pale-blue Unicorn mare, skinny as skinny can be, turquoise eyes peeking out behind a long, dark purple mane. I move part of my hair out of my eyes to get a better look at my face, searching for any errors. Long voluminous eyelashes and perfectly soft, even-toned fur, I was as flawless looking as I could make myself, but still ever so thin. I had lost the ability to change my own mass a long time ago. It simply took too much energy. Energy that I didn’t have.

Once I’m satisfied with my appearance, I exit the room and begin my slow trek down the narrow hallway stairs, careful that my legs don’t give out. When I reach the bottom, I poke my head around the corner and into the workshop, levitating my saddlebags over and onto my back. When I finish, I pull the front door open, metal squealing as I do so.

It’s springtime in Las Pegasus. The morning air already feels warm against my coat, but it seldom helps my inner coldness. I look up at the cloudless sky. Birds fly overhead and down the city street along with the carriages that bump around on the cobblestone road.

A pang of anxiety shoots through me, and I feel an overwhelming need to hide. But I can't. I need to collect today. I need to feed.

I close the metal door behind me, locking it with my key before dropping it into my saddlebag as well.

I walk down the city street, making an effort to give a small ‘hello’ to everypony I pass. A task that bears a great pain, as I’m being nothing but disingenuous.

They have something that you want. I think to myself. You don’t actually care about them. You are false.

Most ponies go on without a word or a single thought, but occasionally a passing couple or friendly face will match my brief greetings. As they do, I breathe in the minuscule amount of kindness that floats my way, barely qualifying as even a nibble. But with enough faces passed, some of them even familiar, I’m able to scrape by.

I stop at the very end of the street, short of an hour and a half later by only a couple of minutes. I don’t feel so cold anymore, but the emptiness remains.

To my left is an entertainment store with a multitude of radios playing in the shop’s window. Some older stallions sit around listening and, curious, I can’t help but lift an ear.

“Four years ago today, on April twenty-first, our capital city of Canterlot was attacked by an invading force for the first time in a hundred generations. We dedicate today’s broadcast to the victims of such a terrible event, all donations received going towards the families who lost parts of their lives on that day. I turn you over now to reporter Flash Bakelite reporting on the ongoing restora-…” One of the stallions turns the volume knob with a wing, lighting up a cigarette.

“Those cheese-legged fuckers didn’t get half of what they deserved,” he says in a gruff voice, blowing out a cloud of smoke through his nostrils.

One of the others turns to him. “You know, my nephew was on one of the cleanup crews, said there were bug carcasses for miles.” He nods. “Some say they still find rotting husks on rooftops every once in a while.”

One of them shakes their head. “Celestia.”

“Never did catch the big mama, though.”

"No, said she disappeared right after the burst... if I'm remembering correctly." The one with the cigarette states.

"Real shame."

“Hmmph, those element bearers from Ponyville should’ve blasted her when they had the chance,” another one says.

“Aye, you said it.” They all laugh.

I forcefully turn my head away from the conversation, shivering slightly. They aren’t completely wrong though.

She should have known better.

There were supposed to be rules.

I turn on my hooves, facing back up the road to begin my return trek. It’s increasingly warm now as Celestia’s sun starts making its way directly overhead, not as many ponies traveling the sides of the street as before.

After a while, I reach my destination. A three-story building made of limestone brick. The black sign above the front landing reads ‘Gig’s Live Music Venue’ in thin cursive letters. I trot up to the glass front doors and knock lightly. A brief moment later, a butter yellow Earthpony mare with short wine-colored hair opens the door.

“I’m sorry, but we won't be open for another few hours,” she says, poking her head out.

“Oh, no. I’m just here for a delivery,” I explain. “I was supposed to be here on Friday, b-but I finished up a little earlier than expected.”

She seems to relax a bit. “Does Gig know you’re coming?” she asks.

“Nn-not today, I don’t think,” I reply sheepishly. “But he knows who I am.”

She opens the door fully. “Alright, you can come in. I’ll go get him,” she says, closing the door behind me as I step inside.

There’s a bar near the entrance to the left as well as a skinny, dinner type area to the immediate right, with booths near the front windows. After a couple meters, the floor drops down to a sunken-in seating area with square tables set up in a gridlike pattern. Past that was a modest-sized dancefloor and then finally the stage, which took up almost the entire back wall except for the VIP area to its right.

After a while of waiting on the entrance platform, a cream-colored Pegasus stallion with a dark blue mane comes around the corner from behind the bar, smiling.

“Glow, you’re certainly here early,” he says, cheerfully.

“Hello, Gig,” I greet him. “I uh… I figured I could install your stage light today, I had some free time.”

“Oh, honey, you shouldn't be spending your free time doing work. A young mare like you? You should be out having lunch with friends right about now,” he scolds, making me blush.

“N-none of them were available,” I lie.

“Hmm, well how about you stop by tonight? Make some new ones! I’ll cover your entrance fee,” he suggests quietly.

“Oh, no, thank you though,” I decline. “That’s very thoughtful of you, Gig, but I- I’m not so great with crowds,” I explain, taking in the companionship drifting my way.

“Oh, no, honey, that’s perfectly fine. It’s a Wednesday.” He folds a wing over my back and guides me over to the blackboard past the bar. “We’re doing Alternative Night.” He waves his hoof. “Nothin too rambunctious. In fact, not too many ponies are booked I’m afraid.”

My ears fold back, looking over the board. Three bands are written down between eight P.M. and eleven, and on a Wednesday night, Gig was right. Not too many ponies would be showing up. It seemed like this event was designed to be a bit more intimate and relaxed, than some of the weekend shows.

“I dunno…” I say quietly, looking down.

“Trust me, Glow, you need to get out more, missy. Once you're old like me, you’ll wish you could fly back in time,” he chuckles.

“You’re not that old, Gig.” I look back up at him.

“Oh! Oh! You flatterer, stop it!” He lightly bats me with a wing, making me smile a bit. “I am old and I know it,” he says laughing.

“Okay,” I softly say. “I guess I could stop by.”

“Wonderful!” He smiles widely. “Now, let me just go grab the ladder from the back so you can screw that puppy in,” he points to my bag. “I’d fly up there myself, I would, but-”

“It’s okay, Gig, I got it,” I assure as he smiles and disappears towards the back of the stage.

“Be back in a jiffy!” he calls.

I move to the back of the venue and stare up into the scaffoldings. Three stage lights, just like the one in my bag, are screwed into the posts, leaving an empty spot near the middle for a fourth. It seems Gig had someone take down the broken one already; that’ll save me some time.

I shut my eyes tightly, holding a hoof to my chest and exhaling heavily. Gig’s companionship seems to have reduced the numbness slightly, but not much else. The aching hollowness echoes within me, still begging to be filled, as always. Though it’s nothing new, I still have to try my best to ignore it.

“Here we are!” Gig announces, snapping me back to attention.

He carries over a long ‘A-Frame’ ladder and quickly sets it up next to me. “How’s that?” he asks.

I nod, “Perfect. Thank you, Gig.”

“No, no. Thank you, dear.” he corrects. “Now, I’ve got some business to attend to upstairs. I do hope you’ll excuse me.” He begins to walk off towards the bar but stops. “You will come and find me if you need anything? Juniper will be just behind the bar here as well.”

I nod again, and he smiles before walking away.

I look back up at the ceiling and then over to the ladder. I trot over to the steps and carefully make my way up. It’s a sturdy ladder – Gig wouldn’t have me use anything that wasn’t safe, but even then I’m still slow to ascend. When I finally reach the top, I brace my front hooves against the metal scaffolding. I ignite my horn and feel around inside my saddlebag, removing the stage light.

It's a simple task, attaching the head to the pole, removing the pin in the larger socket, and then sliding the smaller piece into place. I float the top of the light just below the empty spot and raise it until the smaller piece enters the hollow pole. Once I feel that the light is as far in as it will go, I line up the holes for the pin and slide it in. Carefully, I let go, making sure the pin will hold it.

Perfect, now for the rest, I think.

****

I move my body out of the way and channel some of my magic into all four lights. The entire stage lights up, save for an empty dark spot on the right near the middle. I use my hoof to aim the new light directly into the empty space so that the entire stage is evenly lit, then tighten the screws on the side. Afterwards, I change all the lights’ colors to red, green, and then finally blue before letting them go dim.

“That looks wonderful, dear!”

I look down at Gig, who stands at the elevated section near the bar clopping his hooves together. “And you finished up so quickly!” he exclaims.

“Well, setting it up is the easy part,” I say, slowly climbing down the ladder and meeting him halfway. “It should last a long time, i-if you don’t have any Unicorns b-blow it up that is,” I add quietly.

He chuckles. “Oh, she’s uncontrollable, but every time she’s in town she has the place packed,” he says, removing a bag of bits from under his wing. “Here you go, dear, for a job well done.”

I’m startled by the weight of the bag when he drops in into my hoof. Much heavier than normal. “Gig,” I say, looking up at him concerned. “This is far too much.” I hold the bag out to him.

He pushes it back. “Take it, honey,” he insists, smiling genuinely. “I have more than I know what to do with.”

I hesitantly accept it, placing the pouch into my saddlebags.

“I will see you later tonight, correct?” he asks, walking me to the front.

I nod. “Yes, I’ll be here,” I say plainly.

“Great!” he smiles, opening the door for me with a wing. “See you soon!”

****

I have to admit, it wasn’t nearly as bad as I thought it would be. The first band on stage had been playing some downbeat songs that I could appreciate. The only problem is the many, many ponies that were all around the venue. Far more than I’d like. The emotions floating around the room test my restraint, always having to remind myself: they aren’t for you. It wasn’t much of an issue once the music started, as it served as an ample distraction, though I still shiver when anyone walks by.

“Can I get you anything to drink?”

I open my eyes. Juniper Berry stands on the other side of the bar, cleaning a glass with a small cloth.

“Oh, uh… j-just a ginger ale, please.” I stutter.

She nods and reaches down, placing a small glass in front of me with ice, then pops the cap off of a bottle, causing me to flinch. She then pours the bottle into the glass and sets them both down within hoof’s reach.

“Just wave me down if you need anything else,” she says.

After she leaves, I stare at the small yellowish bubbles, watching as they float to the top and get trapped under the ice, unable to make it to the surface. Unable to escape. I imagine black forms pressed up against a shield, batting up against it like moths at a window as a magical burst comes from within. A terrible fate. I wonder if they felt like I do. Cold and hollow. I wonder if maybe they felt worse.

“I'm pretty good with faces,” I hear to my right. “I don’t think I remember seeing yours around here.” A Thestral mare sits two seats down, carefully watching me. She lifts her red drink up to her fanged lips and takes a small sip.

Her coat is a dark purple and her mane is like the late evening sky. She lowers her glass, licking her lips before moving them around, her eyes the color of the setting sun. It takes a few moments before I quickly realize that she had spoken again.

“I- I’m sorry?” I squeak.

She smiles. “I asked if you’ve even been here before,” she says in a voice like velvet.

“Uh… no,” I say, shivering. “I uh, just wanted to try it out… I don’t know if I’ll even be staying.”

“You should stick around,” she suggests, still with a small smile. “I’ve got a set coming up in just a few minutes.”

“You’re playing tonight?” I ask.

“Uh-huh.” she nods. “Wanna stay awhile and see?” She takes the final sip of her drink, still watching me.

“...Okay,” I say, almost automatically.

The corner of her lip curls up, revealing the point of her fang. "So, what's a mare like you doing in a place like this anyway, hmm?"

I shutter. "Uh, I don't... I mean, um, I-" I sputter dumbly, staring at her lips. I shake my head. "J- just thought it looked like fun?" I reply, although, more like a question. "What about you?" I quickly change the subject, although cringe when I realize she's already said why. Luckily, she either doesn't seem to mind or didn't notice.

"Oh, I've been around to a bunch of different clubs," she states. "This one's just one of my regulars, and when I heard they were doing alt-night, I just had to book a spot."

"Oh, you must be really brave to perform in front of so many ponies." I think out loud.

She laughs softly. "Nah, not really, I love it. Putting on a good show is what I was made for." She looks off the side before returning to me. "We're going up soon, you're still gonna be around, right?"

I give a simple nod.

She smirks, hopping down from her spot. “Good to hear,” she says, giving a final look over her shoulder before walking off with a sway in her hips.

I catch a glimpse of her cutie mark as she turns: the setting sun with a constellation of stars in the shape of what I think is a bass clef. I look away again, unable to hold still, placing a hoof over my heart and breathing out slowly. It comes out trembling. It takes a couple more deep breaths before I stop shaking, then notice that the music has stopped.

The current band begins packing up their equipment and rolling it offstage. Fairly quickly, another stallion comes out tugging a cart full of drum equipment into center stage as the others move by him in the opposite direction.

He’s a Unicorn with a light peach-pink coat and a long golden mane parted in the center, a cigarette hanging from his lips. He lights up his horn, its aura the same pale emerald-green color as his eyes, and shortly after the lights are dimmed. Then, another pony walks out onto the stage: the very same Thestral mare I’d been speaking with earlier.

Her eyes reflect brightly in the low light, like two fiery-red candles. She sets down her case and pops it open, grabbing a dark-red, glossy magic guitar in her wings. She plugs a cord into the instrument and plays four notes in quick succession. Deep vibrations fill the venue. Immediately after, the drummer plays a short drum roll and hits a cymbal four times lightly before stopping.

Nodding to each other, the mare steps up to the microphone and takes a seat on the centerstage stool.

“How’s everypony doing tonight?” she asks in her silky voice.

A good amount of ponies in the venue cheer.

“Good, good. How many do we have here from Canterlot?”

A fairly smaller group of ponies cheer, but still make a good amount of noise.

“Oh, a couple, huh? Me too. Well, our name is Work In Progress, and we’ve got a few songs for you tonight.” She nods to the drummer and quickly starts plucking a steady stream of notes using her wing talons. Up and down in broad, complex riffs.

After a couple minutes, I noticed that they never seemed to really repeat any section of the song. It was ever-changing, with something new at the end of every verse, but not so different that it became chaotic. It was like a journey.

The next thing I picked up on was how truly different it sounded. The lyrics were dark and wholly honest in a way that ponies would normally try to hide. She sang in a way that let ponies see the deepest parts of her soul.

The first song was about hypocrisy and violence, bending the envelope of what was considered right and wrong, and how we were all guilty. My ears perked up, entranced.

The second song didn’t properly start, blending into the first seamlessly without stopping. It was much softer than the previous, the notes ringing out for a long time, with almost no cymbals. She sang about watching the weather change, although it more so seemed like a metaphor for time.

But then, there was the final song, which I found the most intriguing. At first, it was about a princess: immortal, wise, and possessing all. But then, she’s willing to throw it all away for somepony. A pony that keeps her dark side at bay. Progressively, the princess gets more and more desperate for this other pony not to leave her, and at some point, it almost feels like it’s not another pony at all, but another part of herself. The final chorus of the song sticks with me even long after they stop playing:

Shine on forever
Shine on benevolent sun

Shine upon the broken
Shine until the two become one

Shine on forever
Shine on benevolent sun

Shine upon the severed
Shine until the two become one

Divided I’m withering away
Divided I’m withering away
Shine upon the many, light our way
Benevolent sun