On a weekend in the spring as the blossoms fell in fleeting spirals, a wondrous miracle was occurring. All the months of waiting, every piece of preparation, all for the arrival of a pure, innocent foal, destined to bring happiness to the world.

To the father – Persistence – this birth would give reason to his thirst for knowledge, a vessel within which his teachings and lessons could be passed down throughout the ages. For the truth was knowledge and experience gave rise to truth, thus a bond could be formed that would surpass flesh and time, such that all would be brighter.

To the mother – Serenity – this birth would give reason to her bountiful kindness, such that her child could receive love and affection that which many could only dream of. For kindness is the key to grow a healthy seed, to nourish and enable it to see the world through the eyes of reason and morality. Nothing else could be more precious than the coming of this foal, the path to freedom at its hooves and the support and encouragement to carry any dream to reality. Such was the blessing of new life.

The child was born without issue, a beautiful unicorn colt with a pearly white coat and wavy black mane. He barely cried for a moment before he was held by his mother, his eyes looking upon the world with innocent wonder. Untainted by the evils of the world was this miracle, an angelic foal destined for all the love and care one could hope for.

Persistence and Serenity shed tears as the child rested happily on his mother’s forelegs, his chest rising and falling with perfect regularity. Few could hope for such contentment.

“What should we call him?” Serenity asked her husband. They had spent months trying to decide upon a name but could never make up their minds. Mercy, Sunshine or Splendor for a filly. Justice, Valor or Candor for a colt. But in that single moment a thought came to Persistence.

“He spent nine months waiting for this very moment,” the stallion replied. “We couldn’t wait and yet he did so happily. Now that he’s here, everything is right with the world. I think I know the perfect name.”

Patience was a happy foal in his early years, showing an impressive mind and eye for detail. He showed little fear in the face of animals or the wrath of mother nature, instead observing the wild creatures that inhabited his village and peering through the curtains to watch as a thunderstorm barreled through the land. He wanted to know, wanted to learn, even more-so than his parents could provide. “We don’t know everything,” Serenity would say. “Perhaps you’ll find out when you’re older. Can you wait until then?” Patience would nod. He could wait.

There were few things that Patience loved more than story time. Heroes from a fantasy land, animals on a journey, a fable to teach morals, an expression of art and character put onto page. He would sit, he would listen, but before he would drift off to sleep he would ask questions. His thirst for knowledge extended beyond just his own life – he wanted to know all he could. It was truly a challenge and a surprise for his parents to deal with.

“Mother, is the wolf really bad?” he once asked at the age of four. “Are there not wolves in the woods who eat other animals? Are they bad?”

His mother was taken aback, pondering her child’s reflection on the villain of the story. “I suppose not,” she finally answered. “They try to take care of themselves just as we do. A wolf cannot eat plants or grass – it is just the way they are.”

“But we must be wary of them,” Patience stated astutely. “They could kill us. Is that not bad?”

“Yes, but it is not bad for us to stop them. We must all do our best.”

“Then are the other animals bad?” he asked. “They killed the wolf.”

“They were protecting themselves. If a wolf tried to hurt you I would protect you with all that I had.”

“You would kill a wolf?”

Her son’s innocent question caught her off-guard. “If I had no choice, if I was to save your life, I would do so, yes.”

“And the wolf would not be wrong for trying to eat me?”

“It is only natural for them.”

Patience pondered on this for a while, keeping a hoof wrapped around his mother’s. “Okay,” he finally said. “I understand.”

This was a common occurrence at story time. Often, Serenity and Persistence would find Patience reading through his books himself, staring at a single page, unable to read but remembering the message as he was told, as he was taught.

Ever since he was born, Patience was taught that the world had a creator, a loving deity named Sol who looked upon Equus and nurtured her wonderful creations. Sol was the beginning of everything and everything that happened was under her watch as part of her plan. Everything happened for a reason, and Sol would bless all who stayed right and true with entry into paradise upon their passing, a place of bountiful joy where pain and suffering were naught. Patience desperately wanted to meet Sol but was told he could only meet her once it was his time. And so, he would wait. He was very good at that.

Patience was a well-behaved foal. Rarely would he cry or whine if he didn’t have his way. All he needed was an explanation and the knowledge that his parents loved him, that they were only doing what was best for him. He liked to play with his blocks and build towers or create stories with his collection of stuffed toys. He would give them names, talk to them for hours and go on grand adventures in an imaginary world. They were his friends, of sorts, and while Patience was content with them his mother and father thought it would be best if their son could have a real bond with someone close to his age.

When Patience was five years old he would meet his sister, Mercy, an earth pony filly. “You must take care of your sister,” his father told him. “She’s your responsibility as well as ours.”

“Okay, father,” Patience replied. He knew how it worked at this point – he must protect his family from wolves and other beasts that lurked in the woods. Even if that meant killing them, which was fine, as he had been taught. But he was frightened at this prospect – of protecting others. If he died he would be reborn in paradise but his family wouldn’t be there. He’d either be all alone or have to spend all of his time with strangers. Patience found it difficult to deal with others. He found their ways unnerving.

For this reason, Patience found school to be somewhat troublesome. Not that he didn’t have academic talent as he was certainly bright, eagerly lapping up the chance to learn about mathematics, language, history, science, and especially geography. He would hear of distant lands, of frozen wastes, scorching deserts, tropical rainforests, windswept valleys and civilizations in the mountains, his attention completely enraptured. The world was a big place with so much to see, and he would often pore over a large hardback picture book from the school library while the other foals went out to play.

Play was not something Patience understood too well. The other foals would run around, clamber atop climbing frames, skip along hopscotch paths and kick balls to each other. Patience had tried these things – his parents had encouraged him to – but his eyes were either stretched to the horizon or focused on the birds and the insects that inhabited the bushes and trees surrounding the school grounds.

His teacher was worried. “He is a clever, kind young colt, but I feel as if he isn’t trying his hardest,” she had once explained during a meeting with his parents. “He doesn’t spend much time with the other foals and sometimes he’ll hand in unfinished work even though it’s plain to see he’s capable of more. I do hope you don’t take this the wrong way.”

Serenity and Persistence weren’t troubled, however. They looked down at Patience and smiled. “I’m sure he’s just finding his footing,” Persistence said. “Is there a reason you don’t push yourself? Is it because you’re not being challenged enough?”

Patience had no concept of this idea. “I don’t know.”

“You know you need to put more effort into your work. When you get older you’ll need to get good grades so you can get a good job. You’re smarter than others think.”

Patience thought about this for a moment. He supposed that his father was right, but he had never even considered what the others at his school thought of him. “Okay, father,” he finally said. “I’ll do better.”

“Good.” Persistence turned to his wife who was carrying Mercy. “Maybe we can get him to go to a birthday party, see if he can find a friend. Wouldn’t you like a friend?”

“I suppose.”

“Baby steps,” Serenity said, tapping her husband lightly on the snout. “We don’t want to pressure him too much.”

The teacher smiled, seeing now that Patience was in good hooves.

It wasn’t long before he improved, his schoolwork reaching a level of excellence at the top of his class, but Patience had become uncharacteristically irritable. He would not lash out but would instead brood and distance himself even more from others than he had previously, even his parents. He lacked energy, sometimes going straight to bed once he was brought back from school. Persistence and Serenity took him to the doctor, but there was no easy answer to be found. They changed his diet as per the requirements but Patience remained the same, and he showed no signs of disease.

One night, Serenity decided to discuss this with him after story time. “Is everything alright, Patience? You seem upset by something.”

“I’m okay, mother.” Patience had been remarkably tight-lipped.

“You’re not your usual self, my dear. Your father and I are worried about you. We want you to be happy more than anything, alright? You can tell me anything. Believe me, I won’t get mad no matter what.”

Patience thought for a moment and then responded. “I’m doing better at school now, aren’t I?”

“Yes, you are, and your father and I are so very proud of you.”

“But nothing’s gotten better for me,” Patience said tentatively. “I’ve done my very best and nothing’s changed. I thought I might be happier. Will it make me happy eventually?”

Serenity wrapped her hooves around her son, awash with guilt. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t even consider this would happen. You’re right, you deserve a big reward for doing so well. Would you like to go on a trip somewhere?”

Patience was suddenly very excited. He smiled a true, gleeful smile for the first time in weeks. “I would love to! But I don’t know where to go.”

“Your father and I will work something out. It’ll be a surprise. We won’t be able to go for a while, though. You can hang on for a time, can’t you?”

Patience nodded, beaming from ear to ear.

A few weeks later the whole family travelled by carriage to a grand museum. There were artefacts of all kinds, skeletons, pieces of obscure rocks used to make vast buildings, weapons, maps, ceramics, pieces of art and parchments detailing stories from centuries ago, transcribed into modern language by scholars. Patience was enthralled exploring this long-forgotten world inside his own head, constructing the land, its citizens, and walking through it, much as he had done while he sat alone, reading his books. It was a magical experience, but he soon craved more. He craved to see a new world as it was in the present, not the past.

“Is there anywhere else we can go?” Patience asked.

“If you continue to do well in school,” Persistence replied, “we’ll see. But it could be a while. Your mother and I don’t know when we’ll get another chance.”

Patience was fine with waiting, but he was confused about something. “Is doing well at school really important?”

“Well, of course!” Persistence said.

“Even if I really don’t like it?”

“There are many things in life that we don’t like to do but we have to do them anyway. It’s all about the end goal, and sometimes things can be difficult along the way. Think of it as a test put forward by Sol. The things you want most have to be earned.”

Patience thought he understood, but something didn’t feel right. “I thought you and mother wanted me to be happy more than anything.”

“That’s true.”

“But I’d be happier if I didn’t do this. I’d be happier if I went on trips without having to work hard at school. Think of it as a test, that if you let me do this you can get what you want most.”

Persistence wasn’t sure what to make of this. It could be seen that Patience was being selfish, but he still remained calm and resolute. “If you continue to do well at school, that will make you happier when you’re older. You’ll be able to make something of yourself, and maybe even earn a living travelling the world just like you want. That would make you happy, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes,” Patience said. He thought about this future and all that it entailed. “Could that be Sol’s plan for me?”

“Of course it is,” Persistence replied, hugging his son. “She wants what’s best for all of us.”

Patience was filled with vigor once more, but there was a thought at the back of his mind that he couldn’t quite shake: Once he would meet Sol in paradise the world as he knew it would be out of reach. He could learn as much as he wanted but all that knowledge would become worthless, as if it were now mere fiction that everyone wished to forget, to be cast aside and forgotten. And after that, no matter how much he would wait, no matter how much patience he showed, he could never get that back.

At the age of eleven Patience would attend secondary school. He struggled to fit in at first, feeling overwhelmed by this new location. There were more students, bigger buildings, and the tests and questions required more effort to succeed at. He failed to find himself any friends, but he was thankful that the teachers paid less mind to this fact than before.

What set this new school apart and made his life that little bit easier was the expansive library that dwarfed his previous school’s offerings. The history books did less to shy away from the dark, morbid nature of things past, and Patience found himself all the more intrigued, desperately piecing together his knowledge of the world as it stood, the cultures and beings that inhabited it.

“What’s the point? Hahaha.”

This was a monumental task, one which Patience couldn’t quite comprehend but still strived towards nonetheless. And for the first time he was allowed to bring books from school back home, something which changed the structure of his entire life.

That wasn’t to say Patience shied away from his family. They were still a tight-knit unit – Persistence and Serenity giving both of their children ample attention – and he spent a good deal of time with his sister Mercy. She idolized her brother and he in turn saw himself as her protector. He would read her bedtime stories – the same ones he had grown up with – and discuss his thoughts with her. She was the only one Patience felt he could be truly honest with.

Four months after starting at his new school, Patience was walking home and found himself being blocked by three other colts. “Excuse me,” he said. “Can you let me pass?”

“I don’t think so,” the tallest one said, pushing Patience into the tall grass along the edge of the path.

Patience didn’t understand what was happening. “Please,” he said weakly. “I need to get home. My dinner will be ready soon.”

The three colts roared with laughter. “What’s the rush?” another said. “We were hoping we could play a game.”

“I don’t know what game it is,” Patience continued, oblivious to his situation, “but I doubt I will have time.”

“Oh, you’ll have time,” the tall one said. “We have a challenge for you.” With that he tore away Patience’s satchel and peered inside. “Any money in here?” he said as he passed it to another.

“Wait!” Patience cried, growing terrified. “I need that!”

“See, here’s the challenge,” the tall one said, smiling. “If you can take this back from us you can go home.”

Patience reached for his satchel but it was immediately lifted out of his grasp. “Please.”

“You can do better than that, can’t you?” the tall one said. “You’re a unicorn, right? You can just use your magic.”

“But I can’t,” Patience said, tears forming in his eyes. “I don’t know how to do magic. Please, give it back to me.”

Once again, the colts threw back their heads and laughed. “I knew it,” the third one said. “I’ve seen him in class; he won’t even lift a pencil.”

“Is that so?” the tall one said. “Well I guess this game might take longer than I thought. Just lift it with your telekinesis.”

“But I can’t,” Patience said.

“Really? Well that’s too bad. You’d better learn quickly!”

Patience thought about this for a moment. He remembered what his parents had said, that everything happened for a reason. He had never been all that interested in magic and had never even attempted to cast a spell. His mother had told him he would find his way to it in time, that every unicorn was different, that he was simply meant to learn magic when fate determined it. He considered that this was meant to happen, that this was his time. Sol was merely testing him and he needed to accept the challenge.

Patience focused on his satchel with all his willpower. He strained the muscles around his horn, trying with all his might to activate his spark, to set his horn aglow with color and pull the satchel from the other colt’s grasp. A minute or so passed and there was nothing. Patience took a series of deep breaths, exhausted from his effort.

“Oh, come on, try harder!” the tall one said, the others chuckling and inching themselves closer to Patience. “Don’t you want to make it home in time for your dinner?”

Patience tried again. Patience knew he had to overcome this challenge, that this was his time to finally grasp the basics of magic. But once again, no matter what he did, Patience couldn’t manage it.

“This is boring,” the tall one said, tripping Patience up and sending him into the dirt. “You’re not even trying, are you? Guys, maybe you can encourage him.”

As Patience tried getting up he was knocked to the ground once again by the two other colts. “Please, stop!” he cried, but to no avail.

“Don’t those dumb books you read teach you anything?” one said.

“Let’s see,” the tall one said, and turned the satchel upside down, spilling its contents. “Nothing interesting in this one,” he said, tossing one of the library books over his shoulder and landing it in a puddle. “Or this one,” he said, throwing another into a hedge. This sent the other two into fits of laughter.

It was then that Patience felt something he had never felt before. In that instant he imagined these colts being torn asunder, burned alive, writhing in agony, their chuckling replaced by blood-curdling screams. He flew into a rage, leaping at the tall one with all his might and landing a blow on his chin. He wanted to see his jaw break, for him to be thrown on his back and pleading for mercy. But Patience was weak, and his attack did little more than anger his enemy.

“How dare you,” the colt said quietly, leering down at Patience and tossing the satchel aside.

Patience grew terribly afraid. “I’m sorry,” he said, backing away. But there was no escape. Before he could even react he felt an immense force against his chest. From there, all he could do was curl into a ball as the three colts struck him again and again. It was a pain Patience had never felt before, had never even conceived possible. He couldn’t understand. Was this his punishment for not passing Sol’s test? Was this what was meant to happen?

Eventually, the barrage stopped. The tall one spat in Patience’s face and whispered in his ear: “Don’t you ever cross me again, little Patience, or I’ll make your life hell.” The three colts walked away, chuckling as they went.

His body ached and his head was spinning,

Limply coughing spats of blood.

So Patience di

I woke up.

The voice from my dreams remained – just barely a whisper – as my vision slowly returned.

d as Patience does,

And lay there crying in the mud.

The voice dissipated, leaving only me.

Author's Note

A dream? A vision? A memory? A fantasy?

What was it that chapter 2 said?

Greyscale...