The Legend of Delta

As we wait for our protagonist to appear I will take some time to describe the house he has chosen to live in for this life. It had green walls on the inside, red on the outside, brick red. The carpet was rather old and ragged. There were only the most basic pieces of furniture. A table, wobbly with a pair of unsteady chairs situated neat it. The carpet showed indentations from the previous owner’s furniture.

There was a stove and a refrigerator. The refrigerator not containing food, and likely will not contain but simple pastries and soft drinks which he had come to enjoy. As for the bedroom it contained a wooden bed with a cheap mattress and simple sheets. A vacant nightstand set at its side.

Though there is one article in the house that did not match all that was already there. It was an empty chest, one of much older than the house it was in, its age approximately 3 centuries. He had it shipped ahead of him.

After entering a secluded part of Ponyville he teleported into the house in a ball of green flame. He looked around the house to make sure he was in the right place and not ending up in some random ponies’ house, again.

After seeing the ancient trunk he was assured as to his location being correct. The weathered carpet bent under his hooves as dust was kicked up towards the chest. The lock glowed from the inner workings as the pieces clicked into place. There were only a couple dozen ever made, so likely there where only a few if any at all left besides this one.

An audible click was emanated from the lock as a fresh air entered the vacant cavity within the trunk. A glowing lid was raised open. From under the cloak there glowed another green glow, carrying an assortment of trinkets from the ages.

The trinkets consisted of the lantern he carried when he walked into town; it was old, almost as old as the creature himself. It was the same lantern he used every time, enchanted to be almost indestructible. Followed by a thick packet of written words, with a triangle on the top half of the first page, also enchanted and very old. Then a golden pocket watch with a chain, this was quite worn unlike all the other objects that he held dear, not because it was not enchanted, but because it was old when it was enchanted.

Soon flowed out a number of other random trinkets, but the last object was the one he always held onto the longest, and held closest to his heart. It was a drawing of a mare, he intended to put it atop the chest, but the purple mare had foiled that opportunity.

He held it in his jagged green magic a few tears fell onto the framed drawing, as this world faded away. . .

~~~

. . . To be replaced by an older sepia one. The memory was old, and had a brown film over it, but just ever so slightly enough to be noticed. Definitely not enough to corrupt the memory, he doubted this grouping of memories would ever be forgotten.

He walked down empty streets in stormy night, the lantern lit with green flame guiding his path. His cloak was dripping from the rain. He passed a library with a plaque that read, “Fillydelphia public library.”

Though the start of his travel was boring and nothing eventful happened. What ended up happening to his travel was where this memory takes its roots. He heard a squeak from behind him, paying it no head he continued on. Soon though a concerned voice asked him what he was doing in the rain, and then beckoned him to come inside.

He looked towards the mare, unable to tell many details as the light from inside her abode made her silhouette, only her outline determinable. He payed her no more head and continued on his way.

She did not like the idea of anypony being out on such a night. She spread out her wings and with a few flaps landed in front of him blocking his path. He had attempted to walk around, but she just picked him up and carried him to her home. Even though he was utterly surprised he remained calm.

She took him inside. He gazed upon her. She was silver of coat, black of mane, and green eyes. She showed him kindness. She offered him tea and a place to stay for the night. He accepted gracefully.

The kindness was not what surprised him the most though, what did however, was that he had removed his cloak soon after entering the home of the mare.

~~~

He tried to shut out the memories of his past, especially of then. They may have been his happiest of memories, but they implemented the most pain when remembered. He gently placed the drawing on the top of the pile of artifacts.

He recalled the form he used to scout out the town and took it up, sending harmless green flames dancing across the room as he did so. Replacing his exterior with a dark crimson coat straitening his horn, hair black with Red highlights in patches, his eyes a deep blue to contrast the rest of his disguise. A cutie mark consisting of a Golden pocket watch and chain. His name for this ruse was Key Wound. Once he had assured himself of his form being accurate. He went up the basic halls and to the basic nearly vacant bedroom and settled in for the night.

~Δ~

Now we continue our story with Twilight whom lay awake in her bed, still thinking over what had happened. Spike had come and accosted her for continuing to pace and had urged her to get to bed.

She had no thought process to work out this event, she had never needed one. Of course though she had often fantasized as such, but this being reality where she was not omnipotent and she couldn’t just flick her tail and make the world work as she wanted.

In the story he wore a disguise of some sorts. It always bugged her how some parts of the story, particularly about him where so vague, but everything else was as descriptive as the story could be.

She decided to look for any disguises. She noted the jagged horn and decided that would be the part she would look for, and be wary of anyone in a big hat that could conceal such an appendage.

Restlessness finally set in and she jumped out of bed and trotted down to the library and began to make a list. A list of how she would find him. She began buy writing the noticeable features. Starting with the hardest to conceal.

The jagged horn, the insect wings, she would keep an eye out for them. She wondered how that he could remain hidden at all with these features.

She worked late into the morning until she passed out from exhaustion.

~Δ~

He awoke up to an empty room. He had some paperwork to do. He had ordered a writing desk, as well as a delivery of the required writing utensils. He had to fully transfer the payments to his account. He had to do it once a year, but that was all the work he ever had to do. Seeing as he discretely owned a few major equestrian, and griffin businesses that payed him. He never had to work more than a day or two a decade and the money flowed in automatically.

He checked outside, unfortunately no deliveries. So he decided to become more acquainted with the town he was to live the next decade. Since Ponyville was a very young town, he had not the opportunity to live here before, since his travels had not brought him close to hear since its founding.

He wandered the streets. He wanted a perfect mental map of the place. And the only way to do that was to roam around randomly till he had it all mapped out in his head. Sure there were more efficient ways, he acknowledged that. Although he liked the spontaneous nature of which he did this.

He had a gist of what this town was, since he had a welcome to Ponyville party already, so he was already familiar with quite a few of the town’s residents. So he received the occasional greeting which he responded politely and quickly.

He always saw one thing when looking upon these creatures. A clock, he always saw a ticking clock, it did not have any definite time on them, but they were all ticking down to the time where their body will fail them.

He often wishes for death, but is too afraid of it. He often just wished that he was not bestowed with the supposed ultimate boon, the gift of immortality. Thought the ultimate gift was also viewed as the ultimate curse. He chose to continue on, never having to face death consoled him, knowing that everyone around him would eventually die.

That is why he changed towns every decade, he was running. He never stopped running. He ran from death, he made friends he knew should live to his departure. Thought there was still the unfortunate time where unforeseen circumstances take the life of a friend.

That is where his artifacts come from; he never wants to forget those who he had witnessed die. Some of them where of those given to him when they were still alive.

He knew he was full of cowardice. He however just accepted it as it kept him going, running forever.

He let out a sigh, those where the thoughts that where going through his head, or something similar. He became dishearten from these thoughts and thought it best to try again. Upon turning around to head back a pink blur appeared in front of his face, the dreaded party pony.

“Hey, why so glum?” the rate at which she spoke amazing him even though this was not his first experience.

“Oh just memories, A new way of life is always difficult. It shall be better once I have settled in,” he flinched realizing he had partially reverted to his original dialect.

The dialect he tended to use subconsciously was at its very end of its line, but it lasted long enough for it to sink permanently into his speech.

The pink pony was a little sad at this, she perked to say more, but remembered advice from twilight, and Crankee Doodle about some friends needing less interaction, and she decided to speak up anyway, considering it was an opportunity to speak.

“Do you need a cheering up party?”

“No thank you, I think I just need to let the new town set in slowly, though I thank you for the offer.”

He approached his home to see that there was a large box with the arrow facing down, and a trail of letters leading to a grey Pegasus flying upside down. He went to his package and levitated it with his distinct green magic along with a smaller package, somehow standing on its edge perfectly balanced.

Now let us go a couple blocks across Ponyville to a certain tree, a tree containing a library with a balcony upon its side. Upon said balcony, a certain purple mare seeing a green light through the lenses of a refraction telescope. A smile was set free upon her visage, as she took notes of it she remembered how that magic flowed differently than normal ponies, and then set off to plan her next move.