Author's Note

If you haven’t already, I suggest watching the My Little Pony: A New Generation film before reading the Watcher as it contains minor spoilers.

To anyone whom this may interest: I’m seeking to hire a visual artist to create cover art for the Watcher, as well as some other upcoming Fictions of mine. I will compensate the artist for their time and effort with these projects. DM me for details.

The Watcher

In the vast darkness of an empty void, a young pony floats unconsciously between realities. She is motionless at first but is quickly made mobile by an undefined force. Like a pair of scissors gliding with ease through a sheet of paper, her eyes shoot open and she is given a sudden breath of life. Her lungs are filled by an illusionary air and her chest expands in response. She stares expressionless for only a moment into the darkness. She feels herself breathing slightly through her open mouth, ensuring the smooth flowing of her airwaves. She stretches and wriggles and twists her muscles into motion; first her arms, then her legs, then her butt, and finally her head. She feels the mildness of the still atmosphere around her wrap around each of her limbs as they flail under her control. Finding she could move, she manoeuvres herself to face the opposite direction and stares blankly into the dark.

With a benign glint in her stare, she stretches out a hoof and finds she is able to stand. Click! She pulls the rest of her body onto the invisible flooring. Her weightlessness is met with the heaviness of an unknown gravity as she lands on her hooves. Click! Her hooves click and quietly echo long and far throughout the empty space in every vast direction. Her ears twitch and prick up. Her eyes dart around the emptiness to where the echo fades out of hearing.

‘H-hello?’ She speaks her first word, feeling her throat vibrate as she does. She jumps in surprise at the sound of her voice as it rings in her ears. Her word echoes and follows the hoof clicks far into the depths of the unknown. She hears this and gasps, which gives chase to the speeding word in hot pursuit. Her voice is quiet in tone, high in pitch, and smooth as silk. ‘I-is anyone there?’ She calls out to the dark. ‘Wh-what’s going on? Wh-what is this place? H-hello?’

Her questions fade and silence returns an answer. To her, the silence is deafening as it shouts back in a cruel and terrifying manner. Promptly, she begins to stumble upon the feelings of agitation and fear as she quickly becomes aware of her loneliness. She feels her stomach seize up and she inadvertently falls to her knees. She can feel her body shaking, she can feel her body quaking from her spine down to her hooves. She breathes quickly and heavily, her chest expanding and contracting with each heavy breath. Her eyes start to glaze; it is not something that she can see but rather feel, and she blinks lengthily and forcefully. Opening them again does nothing as the darkness remains just as black as before.

A lamented tear emerges from the corner of her eye and slides down her cheek. She feels the wetness of the tear as it glides down her smooth face. It feels cold, freezing almost, compared to the air around her. It runs across her cheek and climbs onto her snout, then drops through the invisible flooring and falls into the deep emptiness below. She watches as it glitteringly disappears into nonexistence.

‘C-calm down.’ She tells herself, and so does her echo. ‘Y-you’re all right. J-just relax. T-take a breather.’ She feels her eyes start to glaze again and she is forced to blink to sustain this discomforting feeling. She closes her eyes again and takes a deep, calming, elongated breath. ‘E-everything will be all right.’ She opens them again, only to be greeted once again by darkness. Her body greets the darkness with pseudo-firmity while her mind wavers on the edge of her fear of sitting in her seemingly endless and solitary confinement. Her body soon stops shaking, carrying the weight of her dissonant mind, and she slowly rises to her hooves.

With some effort, she raises a hoof and places it on the floor in front of her. Click! She glances down and examines her foreleg, which she can see clearly despite the blackness that surrounds her. It is short and stubby, typical of a young filly, but does its job to keep her standing steady. She raises her hoof and shakes it in front of her, and it blurs in her vision as if it was being replayed in stop motion multiple times in a variety of cross fades.

She places down the hoof and takes a step forward. Click! Then another. Click! And another. Click! She feels herself speeding up to a slow trot. ClickClickClick! She picks up pace after every step. ClickClickClick! ClickClickClick! Soon enough, she finds herself galloping freely through the dark. ClickClickClick! ClickClickClick! ClickClickClick! Her speed increases to a rapid run. ClickClickClick! ClickClickClick! ClickClickClick! ClickClickClick! She feels her body burning up from the friction of her bones rubbing against each other, the tension of her muscles contracting and retracting, as parts of her body that have been immobile for an indefinite amount of time now have to work together in unison to produce the fine art of motion. Her mane and tail flow swiftly behind her, waving like a leaf on a tree in a breeze, brushing her neck and back as they keep up with her speed. She darts to the left, she shifts to the right, she jumps over imaginary hurdles, and for but barely a moment enjoys the burst of excitement that has found its way to her. She feels herself having fun, running with the imaginary wind, chasing creatures of fantasy, and smiling ecstatically while doing so. After a lengthy while of galloping freely, she feels herself becoming tired and so slows down to a steady walk.

She hears herself breathing heavily and she stops walking. Her exhausted legs give way and she sits down and asks aloud, ‘Wh-what is this strange sensation I’m feeling?’ She feels her facial muscles contract, forcing her eyes to close and her mouth to open wide. From her agape snout she releases a prolonged sigh. She feels her lungs fill and empty in conjunction to her deep breath. She feels the warmth of her breath leave her wide mouth and disappear into the still, non-existent air. She hears herself echo throughout the darkness in front of her. After a hefty yawn, her muscles relax and her eyes open and her mouth closes.

She glances down at her hooves, lifts one off the ground, and stares at the sole of her hoof. ‘I-I don’t understand.’ She speaks, and her echo repeats. At this point she has become aware of hearing her voice echo and pays no more mind to it. ‘Th-this feeling…? I-is this the feeling of life? A-am I… A-alive?’ Her question disappears into the blackness of the void with no answer to return.

As soon as the sound of her echoed voice disappears and silence reaches her ears, a bright light flashes behind her. She hears the sound of the light appearing into existence, like a swift slash of a blade cutting through a piece of thick fabric. She jumps to her hooves and rapidly spins around to face where the light emanates. The immediate sharpness of this light blinds her and she winces and holds up a hoof to shield her sensitive eyes. Her wonder is shook as her vision adjusts and her eyes fall upon the otherworldly glow of a white light emanating from above clearly in the shape of a cone, like a lone streetlamp in the dead of the night – not that she knows what a streetlamp is.

She finds herself in the palm of insecurity as she hesitantly moves herself towards the light. Upon moving closer, a deep humming sound is heard coming from the light. The humming sounds vaguely familiar, but she is too distracted to think about it and it strays into ambience. She stands at the very edge of the ring, not daring to enter. She peers inside the circle of light but finds nothing, nothing but emptiness staring back at her. She walks the circumference of the light, peering inside at the surface, wondering what it is, why it has appeared, and why now. She stops circling and slowly raises a hoof and cautiously holds it inside the circle. Her hoof is illuminated with a white glow around its edges and a shadow dimly cast underneath. She feels her hoof tingle as it heats up from the light, like how her body began to burn while she was running around though not as exhausting. This warmth is more pleasant, like being wrapped in a snug blanket – not that she knows what the comfort of a blanket feels like, or what a blanket is for that matter. She quickly removes her hoof and watches the glow around her disappear immediately and the shadow cast along with it. She feels the warmth of the light slowly dissipate and return to the moderately mild climate that she finds herself standing in.

She gulps in hesitation and places her hoof on the ground within the light and pulls the rest of her body inside. Standing inside the circle of light, she tenses her body and prepares herself for the unknown. However, immediately, her entire body is filled with the warmth of familiarity and her muscles relax almost as quickly. She feels her lips form a smile across her face, though she is unsure of its cause. She could not quite process it, but it is as if she feels safe within the body of light, as if the light has given her an offering of shelter from the lonesome dark, reaching out a welcoming hand, which she more than happily accepts. She feels her body stepping further into the ring of light and stands still in the very centre. She looks up at the source of the light but sees only a singular white jagged speck in the darkness of the background void, twinkling as if it were a star speck amidst a clear night – not that she knows what stars are.

‘H-hello.’ She speaks to the speck of light. Her voice echoes towards the light and is absorbed by its rays. ‘Wh-who are you?’ She asks after a while of waiting for a response. ‘Wh-what is your name?’ She stares at the speck, waiting for an answer but none returns. ‘D-do you know where I am?’ Nothing. ‘D-do you know what this place is?’ Nothing. ‘D-do you know who am I?’ Nothing. ‘D-do you know why I am here?’ Nothing. Nothing but the sound of a deep hum is all that pierces the silence between her questions and its echoes. ‘I-I know you’re there, whoever you are.’ She says, this time louder and firmer, demanding a response. ‘I-I know you can hear me up there. Wh-why aren’t you answering?’ The speck of light speaks only through silence, and it speaks to her quietly but loudly, gently but harshly, slowly but quickly, all at the same time. She is not fluid in the language of the light, however, and thus does not understand its dialect. ‘Wh-why am I alone in here?’ Nothing. ‘Wh-why have I been given this life?’ Nothing. ‘Wh-what purpose do I serve in this void?’ Nothing. ‘A-answer me! Wh-what do I need to do to get an answer from you? Wh-what do you want from me?’ Once again, she is left without an answer she understands. The light continues to shine brightly and illuminates her precious little face.

With no response from the entity she believes to be housed within the light, she begins to feel emotionally unstable. She starts feeling physically weak and mentally drained as a new emotion creeps up on her. She does not understand this feeling, but her mind somehow does and it leaks into and throughout her body. She feels herself shaking, increasing in intensity with each passing moment, as a strong sense of despair slowly pours into her thoughts and throughout her entire body. This feeling, the feeling of despair, of loneliness, of inadequacy, caused by the lack of response from the light, was stronger than that of any of the previous ones. It clouds her mind of rational thought and overlaps her muscle memory to keep herself steady.

‘I-is it hopeless?’ She asks, her voice shivering as intensely as her body from the feeling, and her echo responds. ‘I-is there really no one there? A-am I really alone in this endless void? A-am I truly trapped inside this non-existent reality, between nowhere and everywhere, all at once? I-is… I-is there even any point?’

Her despair reaches its tipping point and she faces against the light. With her head hanging low, she exits the circle of light, stumbling under every step. She takes a few steps into the darkness away from the light, speaking quietly to no one, murmuring solemn nothings to herself as she mindlessly wanders the void a short distance from the light. With each step she takes away from the light, it calls to her, pleading for her, begging her to return but she does not hear it. She is far too busy losing herself to the void that she fails to understand her value in the light’s structural fibre.

Before she could move too far from the light, something pierces her aloof mindset and grabs her attention. She stands still and her ears involuntarily extend themselves to hear better. A peculiar noise travels through the empty space and reaches her auditory nerves. It is quiet at first, nothing louder than a far-off thumping, but turns louder upon facing the light. Her expression turns to alarm and she slowly turns around. The light emanates a low, pulsating sound, similar to that of a heartbeat but slower and more prolonged. She gasps as she instinctively understands what the pulsation represents. She places a hoof to her chest to confirm her suspicions are in fact true. Indeed, she feels no beating of a heart, no pulsation within her chest, only the rapid filling and emptying of her lungs as her breathing picks up pace.

The light beckons her towards its circle with these pulsations. She hesitantly steps forward, back towards the light, but does not enter its ring. The pulsating sound grows louder ever so slightly with every step she takes. She slowly raises her head and returns her gaze towards the light’s source.

The light above flickers faintly enough that only the keenest of eyes are able to pick up on, which hers do. With the rhythm of the pulsation, she watches in bewilderment as a peculiar object reveals itself in the centre of the circle, illuminated by the light, glistening extraordinarily as it slowly fades in and out of her existence. After a while, the object stops fading and becomes solitary and motionless, outlined with the glow from the light and casting a dim shadow beneath. With her curiosity piqued, she steps into the circle and towards the newfound object, her body warming as she nears.

She finds herself standing before a pedestal fountain, being over towered by its almost intimidating size, like a colossal behemoth of a monolith despite only standing twice as tall as her. She examines the pillar of the fountain and it reveals its aureate attire, shining beautifully under the strange light. The pillar is thick and carved with intricate patterns, patterns that flow like vine towards the top, and is embedded with jewels that have the same sparkle as the curiosity in her eyes. The fountain holds aloft a hollow, circular basin fastened tightly with claw-like grippers. Filling the basin is a shallow pool of a thin layer of still, crystal clear liquid, of which she has yet to gaze upon.

She pushes herself onto her back legs and leans herself onto the fountain, holding her forelegs on the attached basin to give herself a height advantage. The fountain is too stubborn for her to move, as if it were nailed down or too heavy for her to push over. The moment her hooves make contact with the basin’s edge, the liquid’s surface illuminates and glows a light blue. She leans over the edge of the basin and peers into the liquid pool to find a face staring back at her with the purest expression in the highest detail. The sight of the face immediately gives her a jolt of surprise and she jumps back in shock.

She carefully returns to look into the pool and stares at the face in the liquid for a while and examines its facial details. From its bright robust eyes to its long-pointed ears, the face in the liquid is unfamiliar to her. She grins at the face, and it follows her movement. She blinks an eye, and the face blinks back. ‘H-hello.’ She says, her childlike innocence thinking she has made a friend. ‘Wh-who are you?’ Her mouth moves to speak to the face, and it copies her movement but does not make a sound. The vibrations from her words reach the pool and it ripples slightly. She tilts her head as she is shortly gripped with a sense of puzzlement and the face does the same. At first sight, she thought the face was of someone new, someone different, maybe even the being behind the light, but upon further inspection she quickly grows to realise the face is of herself, a reflection of her physical appearance. She sighs in disappointment and frowns at this realisation as she sinks back into the immense feeling of loneliness once more, and the reflection copies her expression.

‘Wh-why am I here?’ She speaks solemnly to her reflection. ‘Wh-why am I in this dark, empty void? Wh-why am I alone? A-am I here to just suffer? T-to be tormented?’ She spots the light source reflecting inside the liquid from behind the face. ‘Wh-why are you tormenting me?’ She glances up and, very softly, asks the light with genuine sincerity, ‘Wh-what do you want from me?’

A feeling of movement brings the feeling of surprise back to her. She feels herself involuntarily shuddering. She finds she is being raised, lifted by an unknown phenomenon from beneath her hooves. ‘Wh-whoa! Wh-what’s happening?’ Keeping hold of the basin for balance, she glances down to her back legs to find herself standing on an indescribable, featureless cuboid. Another shorter cuboid behind the one she stands shakily on rises almost immediately after the first to create a short set of stairs leading to the fountain. The steps rise from below the void and lift her high enough so that she is not required to lean on the basin.

The stairs stop shuddering and she is allowed to let go of the basin, placing her forehooves on the top step. She stares into the basin freely to stare back at her reflection without any obtrusion. She finds the thin liquid had rippled heavily from the effect of the rising stairs and obscures her face. It takes a moment for the liquid to settle again, and once settled she sees her face clear once more. She then looks back at the light reflecting on the liquid, shimmering on the surface.

‘D-did you do this?’ She asks. The light flickers, ever so gently, in response to her question, and she interprets that as a yes. Her face beams with a large grin as she stands on the very edge of excitement. ‘I-I knew it! I-I knew I wasn’t alone here. Wh-who are you? Wh-what’s your name? Wh-what do you look like? Wh-what is this place? Wh-where is this place? Wh-why am I, I mean… Wh-why are we here?’

The light does not answer but shines as bright as usual. She feels her head tilt as confusion is poured inside it, unbalancing her thoughts. ‘Wh-why aren’t you talking to me? I-I know you can understand me.’ She pauses as she is filled with the strange feeling of comprehension, as if the light itself is feeding her knowledge of the unbeknownst through ways she could not comprehend. ‘Y-you can’t speak like I can, can you?’

With an interpreted yes from the flickering light, she frowns in disappointment but nods in understanding. She jumps off the steps and, from here, she circles the fountain talking aloud to herself and the light watches her every step, listens to every spoken word. ‘S-so, let me see… Y-you can’t speak to me, but you can hear me. I-I cannot tell if you can see me, but you somehow know I’m here, wherever here is. I-I can move freely, but you cannot. Y-you’re in a position I can’t physically reach, but you can reach me through flickers and objects summoned.’ She pauses, stopping her circling, and she wonders. ‘C-can you summon anything else?’ She waits for a flicker from the light, but nothing happens. She presumes the stillness is a no and continues to circle the fountain. ‘Wh-what can I do with this information? Wh-what does it all mean? Wh-what more is there to this darkness, to this void?’ She stops circling and stares at the light, who inadvertently stares back. ‘Wh-why am I here?’ She asks again. ‘Wh-what is my purpose?’

The light does not answer, despite her waiting a lengthy while for one. Instead, something strange occurs; something she was not expecting, something that at first did not register any significant implication. The once bright light has now turned from a blinding white to a dark blue, changing the warmth of the circle to a cold insulate. She does not yet know why the light has changed nor the importance of it. What she does understand is that she suddenly feels a deep sorrow emanating from the light, as if the light was conveying its emotion onto her.

After a while, her hearing is pierced by a strange and curious sound. It was a sound she had yet to hear, yet the light had heard all too well before and knows what accompanies it. The sound she hears makes her joyless, saddened by its pitter pattering, weakened by its drowning ambience. It sounds heavy as it hisses in her ears, and her body reflects this as she feels the gravitational pull inside her increase.

She turns and stares at the basin – the source of this peculiar noise – and notices a dark blue glow emanating from its surface. Slowly, she moves towards it, taking each step steadily. She escalates the steps, first the shorter one, then the taller one, and hesitantly glances into the pool afraid of what it might show her. The pool shows not her reflection but instead something new, something she could not comprehend at first sight.

What the basin shows her is of land, earth, a place she is unfamiliar with from an aerial perspective. It is magnified to where she could see the damp, wet ground but far enough away to gain her bearings. She sees many tear droplets falling away from her towards the ground, bouncing heavily off the grass and strange black objects. There were very few of these unidentified objects, but she notices they were all grouped in a small mass before a grey stone protruding from the grass. The soil in front of the stone had been disturbed recently and was laden with soaked and spoiled roses.

She does not understand what the image was amounting to. She had a niggling feeling that something was not right, like an itch deep inside her coat that she was unable to reach. She could sense that something bad had happened, though she could not explain this sense. She leans closer to the pool, hoping for a clearer view, and notices the black objects were not implanted in the ground, that they were not completely motionless, and they were moving ever so slightly in the rain. They were hoof-held devices designed to prevent the rain from falling onto whatever stood beneath them. They were umbrellas, and holding aloft these umbrellas were ponies of varying ages; mares, stallions, colts and fillies.

She then notices the umbrellas turning on the spot and slowly drift apart from each other, some in pairs and some not. They move further and further away from the grey stone they were gathering around until they disappear out of view. As they disperse, they reveal something that catches her gaze, something small in scale yet familiar in figure, and she squints for a clearer look.

A young pony, a filly, is sitting alone on the wet and muddy grass in front of the stone. Her mane is purple, her coat is a pale orange, and both are soaking in the rain. Her eyes are open but glazed. She stares solemnly at the stone in front of her. Though no one could tell, she is crying heavily underneath the pelting raindrops. Her body is shaking, shivering from the cold rain or quaking from the event that preceded this occurrence that’s hard to judge. She does not move with the rest of the gatherers and sits in solitude both physically and emotionally.

‘Wh-who is that?’ She asks, unbeknownst to her the connection between the filly and the fountain. ‘Wh-why is she so sad?’

The light does not answer and shines begrudgingly into the pool, watching the scene unfold with deep regret. She watches with it as the filly sits alone in the cold, dark rain. She hears the filly crying her eyes out, sniffing and sobbing, asking herself why this has happened to her, and wishing none of this had occurred, and begging for him to return.

Then, from above, she spots a singular umbrella moving towards the weeping filly. Beneath the umbrella is a colt, one of an amber coat and a sea-blue mane. He stops next to the filly and holds the umbrella over her to keep her from the pouring rain. The filly does not notice the colt standing beside her until he spoke. ‘Hey.’ He says, making her flinch in surprise, snapping her back to reality. She glances to him through rain-soaked eyes, and he stares at her with grief weighing heavily in his. She shakily pulls herself on to her hooves and turns her lowered head to face him. She provides him a smile, one of aching pain, despite being in a heavy state of grievance. He shows a comforting yet remorseful smile and speaks to the filly, as she listens to their conversation from above.

‘Are you all right, Sunny?’ The colt asks.

‘S-Sunny…’ She repeats. The name lingers tastefully on her tongue. She hears the pulsating light skip one solitary beat before resuming its quiet, steady pace. During that brief moment of silence, she feels her throat tighten and her body become heavy with sorrow, as if a glass filled with sadness was poured down her throat, corrupting her stomach and twisting itself dry. She watches with benign curiosity as the scene plays out, like a short episode of a television programme – not that she knows what a television programme is.

Sunny slowly and hesitantly nods. ‘I’m fine, Hitch.’ She whispers softly, slowly. The pouring rain makes it hard to distinguish her voice but it is clearly, without a doubt, shattered beyond repair.

‘I’m sorry about this, Sunny.’ Hitch says sympathetically. ‘I’m sorry for what’s happened. Truly, I am.’

Sunny slowly shakes her head. ‘It…’ She sniffs, and forces a gulp, her tight throat making it difficult to do so. ‘It isn’t your fault.’

‘I wish it didn’t have to end like this.’ Hitch says. ‘This is a heavy regret to us all. If there is anything I could do, anything at all, I—’

‘There was nothing you could have done.’ Sunny says, cutting Hitch off midsentence. ‘There was nothing anyone could have done.’

‘Sunny, I…’ Hitch says.

‘He’s gone, Hitch,’ Sunny says sharply, raising her head to stare at him. Her eyes are soaked with tears and rain, ‘and he’s not coming back. I’ll never see him again. I’m…’ Sunny is unable to finish her sentence and she breaks down in an anger-induced fit of weeps and sobs.

Hitch says nothing. He knows there is nothing he could say to ensure her everything will be all right. It has always been in his nature to cheer up those less fortunate than him, and he wishes he could do more than say “I’m sorry”. She could see this in his eyes – his large, sympathetic eyes – and wishes she too could help despite understanding that she cannot. She instead watches as Hitch comforts his friend by throwing down the umbrella and embracing her tightly.

‘I’m so sorry, Sunny.’ Hitch whispers in her ear.

‘Why did he have to go, Hitch?’ Sunny asks him, pleads to him. ‘Why did he have to go?’

Hitch has no answer that will suitably suffice Sunny’s question, for he himself does not know the reason why. He feels responsible for the actions perceived, that he is the unconditional one to blame, but the simple reality is: he is undecided, unsure, uncertain that his absent actions would have prevented anything.

Sunny and Hitch’s embrace lasts for what feels like hours. It was much needed after the heart-breaking tragedy Sunny has gone through recently. Being such a young soul, Sunny did not know how to deal with the consequences that had befallen her, and she had no one else to turn to for guidance.

They break their hug, Sunny gently pushing Hitch from her, and stand back from each other. Hitch picks up his umbrella and holds it over both himself and Sunny. Together, side by side, they walk away from the grey stone, off the damp grass, and on to the slippery pavement. From here, they are onlooked by a distant mare as they walk in silence a fair distance from the site before stopping at a fork in the path. The path heading to the east twists and turns to lead into the coastal town of Maretime Bay, while the path heading north leads to a lighthouse situated on a cliff overlooking the eastern sea on the northern outskirt of town: Sunny’s residence.

Sunny glances up to her lighthouse home. It is being pelted with rain from the west, but it is a sturdy building and is unweathered by the storm. Once it was a bright place, beautiful, full of life even in the night as its light shone out over the sea and cliff edges. Now, it appears dull, lonesome, and empty; an almost disturbing place to want to stay as it could break even the spiritually strongest stallions. But this is Sunny’s home, and it is here she needs to stay.

‘Will you be all right?’ Hitch asks. ‘Do you want me to stay with you for a bit?’

Sunny shakes her head. ‘No.’ She says, unsure of which of his questions she was answering. ‘I’m fine, really.’

‘Are you sure?’ Hitch says. ‘I think you should—’

‘Hitch, please.’ Sunny says. ‘I just, need some time alone, time to think, that’s all.’ She walks out from under the umbrella and takes the inclined path leading to her home. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?’

‘Uh, yeah, okay.’ Hitch says, still unconvinced Sunny will be fine on her own right now. He watches as his friend takes careful and steady steps so as to not slip on the way home. ‘See you tomorrow…’ The front door to the lighthouse closes and Sunny disappears, leaving everything feeling hollow and silent. ‘Sunny…’ Hitch whispers. ‘This is all my fault. If only I was older, I could have prevented this. I could have talked him out of it. My words would have had weight behind them, intelligence, wisdom.’ He turns to face the town along the seafront. The sea rages violently in the storm, crashing against the rocks and splashing over the barriers onto the seafront. ‘I swear by Equestria’s name, when I’m older, I will prevent anything like this from ever happening again. I’ll never allow you, or anyone in this town, to be this upset again. I’ll make sure you have everything you need to stay happy. You have my word.’

Hitch stands for a moment, staring at the front door to the lighthouse, before turning and reuniting with the onlooker. The onlooker is Hitch’s own mother, middle-aged and dressed all in black for the occasion, who had witnessed her son’s astounding perception and benevolence with overwhelming pride. Together, now closer as mother and son, they walk back to town. With his vow weighing heavily on his mind, Hitch walks the other path leading towards town with his mother close by his side.

Up above, she watches in silence everything that had taken place. ‘I-I think I understand.’ She says, breaking her stillness. ‘Y-you’re sad for the filly, aren’t you? F-for Sunny.’ The light skips a beat, and she takes this sign as a yes. Oblivious to the troubled mind of the young filly, she asks, ‘B-but why? Wh-what happened?’

With no answer from the light, she continues watching in silence as Sunny is seen opening the door to the lighthouse and stepping inside and out of the pouring rain. She does not dry herself and drags herself upstairs. The door swings shut behind her, skewing the photo frame hanging at the side of the door. From above, she stares at the frame and examines the picture housed inside. Within the frame is a photograph of Sunny, a year younger than she is now, riding on the back of an old stallion. Both stallion and filly are smiling happily and appear to be having fun playing their game, a very contrasting scene from what she is seeing now, and her body weeps.

Sunny carries herself upstairs, dripping on every step, and opens the door to her bedroom. Even inside the thick walls, the rain outside could be heard pelting the strong stone shell of the bedroom and its glass windows. Stepping inside, she shivers intensely from the cold rain dripping off her coat. But she does not dry herself. Her sadness is far too potent for her to take into account her own wellbeing.

Sunny’s heart drops upon returning to her room, as if it were sunk in an overburdened sea of remorse. The start to her day was as normal as the one before. She had woken in a bright and cheerful mood despite a gloomy overcast. She tidied her bed and skipped downstairs. A note was left on the kitchen table, stating that her father had headed into town to run one of his daily duties – this time delivering a fine-crafted decoration to the Trailblazer household. She cooked herself a hot and tasty breakfast and figured he would be back any minute. The day went on, morning became afternoon, and her father had not returned home but she had thought nothing of it. It was not until later that afternoon, when a knock on the door and the news of a fatal tragedy, that she became an almost soulless rendition of herself. From the moment the news was brought to her, from the moment those fateful words were spoken, her head became light, her mind fuzzy, her thoughts non-existent, and her small stature became increasingly numb with each second that passed. Now, she was drowning in an overwhelming sadness she could not overcome.

‘Daddy…’ Sunny whispers a whimper.

Upon high, her ears twitch upon hearing this word and a strange tingling sensation lingers on the tip of her tongue, a feeling she had not felt before this moment, a feeling of pride. ‘D-daddy.’ She repeats. ‘I-I know that word. I-I know this feeling. Th-this feeling is… S-strong. I-is that me? A-am I her daddy?’

Shakily, and with the weight of the situation against her, Sunny walks over to her bed with its sheets still neatly folded. She falls onto her bed and allows herself to be fully submerged in her sea of sorrow. ‘Daddy…’ She says, fraught with tears, wrapped in shadow, blinded by sorrow. ‘I’m… I’m lost. It’s too dark. I can’t find my way. I’m afraid, so afraid. Please, come back.’ She bellows out loudly, wailing in grief, sobbing in despair, crying in sadness, and completely aching with loss.

Watching sorrowfully from above, the rhythm of the beating light grows heavier and prolonged upon hearing the deep cries of Sunny. She feels the force of each beat in her own body and cries hopelessly into the pool. ‘N-no.’ She says, also succumbing to the sadness that Sunny finds herself flailing in. ‘D-don’t be sad. L-look. I-I’m here. I-I’ll be your friend. D-Don’t be sad. E-everything will be just fine, you’ll see.’ Sunny does not listen for she cannot hear. Beginning to panic for Sunny, her breathing increases and she flusters as she attempts to figure out how to cheer Sunny up. Her eyes start to well up as Sunny’s crying ceases to stop. She tries to drown out the sound of Sunny’s cries and hear clearly her thoughts. ‘H-how can I stop it?’ She calls out. ‘Wh-what can I do to help you?’

The light glows brighter for a beat and the sound of the crying decreases, as if the volume had been turned down remotely. She looks back into the pool to see Sunny still weeping on her bed. With the sound subsided, she is free to think on her own terms how to cheer Sunny up. After a thoughtful while, she says, ‘I-I want to give her a gift, one to tell her I’m here for her, and that everything will be fine. I-if that is even possible. B-but what can I possibly give her when I have nothing in my possession.’ She glances to the light for direction, but it does not react.

Then, as if the light itself gave it to her, a thought flutters into her head. A creature, small and fragile with wings like silk, flaps its elegant wings throughout her thoughts. She had never seen a creature like this before but somehow knew exactly what it was. Her mind’s eye watches as it hovers delicately in front of her. ‘Wh-what about a butterfly?’ She says. She turns to face the pool and stares at its surface. She wonders how to project the butterfly from her mind into Sunny’s world and if it is even possible to do so. She hears the light speak to her and she looks back at it. ‘Wh-what?’ She says. ‘I-I don’t understand.’ She feels her hoof heating up, burning slightly, as the light tries its hardest to communicate to her. She flinches and lifts up the hoof and stares at its sole. The hoof singes a bright red and reflects the flickering light. It does not turn hotter but neither does it cool. ‘I-I think I know what you’re trying to tell me.’ She says as her instinct pieces together the light’s suggestion.

She extends her hoof and holds it over the pool. Very lightly and very gently, she taps the liquid and steadies her hoof on its surface. She feels a strange tingling sensation from the hoof’s sole but does not move it. After a while, she feels her hoof cool down and return to the standard temperature she is familiar with. Then she spots movement expanding from underneath. The thin legs of an insect stretch out from beneath her hoof and latch onto it. Then wings emerge from the side. The wings flap delicately and the insect releases its grasp of the hoof. With the butterfly detached, she removes her hoof from the liquid and watches the butterfly descend into Sunny’s world below.

The butterfly dances daintily around the room, flapping its colourful wings rapidly, before landing gently on Sunny’s foreleg. Sunny feels this light weight as if it were a strand of hay. She lifts her head with a sharp gasp. ‘Oh!’ The butterfly is startled and hovers above her hoof. Despite her eyes fogged by tears of sadness, Sunny recognises the insect as a butterfly. ‘I’m sorry.’ She sniffs. ‘I didn’t mean to scare you.’ She holds out her hoof to allow the butterfly to land back on her leg. It does so and its wings fold as it rests.

Sunny speaks to the butterfly, softly so as not to startle it, unbeknownst that she was being heard from above. ‘You’ve come in for shelter from the storm, haven’t you, little butterfly?’ The butterfly wriggles its antennae. ‘It’s okay. You can stay here for as long as you need, until the rain stops. Th-there’s plenty of space, now…’ She hiccups a sniff as sadness tightens its unwelcomed grasp. ‘I’m sorry.’ She says. ‘I’m just… A little upset at the moment. I lost someone very close to me recently, someone who I thought the world of, someone who I loved very dearly, someone who cared for me with all their heart, someone who I can’t live without, someone who… Who…’

Sunny bursts into tears and sobs at the reoccurring thought of this dearly beloved person she speaks of. She throws her head into the duvet and weeps loudly. The butterfly takes flight and elegantly floats away from her. From up above, she stares down at Sunny and worries for her. ‘O-oh, no.’ She says. ‘I-it’s not working. P-please, don’t cry. I-I don’t want to see you sad. I-I don’t know what more I can do.’

At that moment, a sliver of silvery light glimmers from inside the pool. It shines directly into her eye which catches her attention. The glimmer emanates from inside a box in the corner of Sunny’s room, partially hidden by wooden figurines of earth, unicorn and pegusi ponies. The butterfly is spotted resting on one of these figurines in the box. Neither she nor the light knew what caused this glimmer, but the light knows what the object is. The light flickers to grab her attention and she glances up to it. ‘Wh-what?’ She says. The light continues to flicker. ‘I-I don’t understand.’ She turns back to the pool to find the sliver of light losing its intensity. In a desperate attempt to save the silvery light from fading out of existence, she lifts her hoof and hovers over the surface of the pool. She taps the pool where the glimmer lies, creating gentle ripples in the liquid, and the figurines on top of the object tumble into the box.

Sunny hears the gentle sound of the figurines falling into the box and jolts up with a gasp. ‘D… Daddy?’ She quickly looks at the box to find the last of the figurines falling out of sight. Her tear-filled eyes spot the butterfly frantically fluttering away from the corner. ‘Oh.’ She says. ‘It’s just you.’ She looks back at the box and her eyes fall upon the familiar glistening object. She wipes the tears from her eyes with her wet hooves and crawls to the edge of the bed in the direction of the box. She falls off the bed and staggers on to her unsteady hooves and slowly makes her way to the box.

Sunny removes the object from the box and holds it up before her and examines its intricacies. The object is a small hoof-made carousel expertly crafted from a wood log. Inserted on the underside of the carousel is a large gemstone that fits perfectly inside its slot. It is this gemstone that glimmers mysteriously, with no light for it to refract. Its magnificence stuns her and she is filled with an unknown pride that she had never felt before. As she is holding it, a gentle ding is sounded as if a pin had been lightly struck.

‘Th-that’s really pretty.’ She says. ‘B-but what is it? I-I know I’ve seen that before, but… H-how is that possible?’

Sunny carries the carousel back to her bed. The object is light and easy to handle, despite its complex mechanics; the heaviest part is the gemstone underneath which balances out the rest of the carousel. She sits on the bed and rests the object on her lap. She sits there for a while, admiring the intricacies of the design of the carved wood. The butterfly returns and lands safely on the top of the carousel as Sunny reminisces back to the time it was built specifically for her. She would watch her father from over the counter as he carved the carousel out of a log, one that would sing to her whenever she so desired, one that would light up the night sky whenever she pleased, one that would wash away all fear and sorrow should it be required. Day after day, and night after night, she would wait impatiently for her new toy to be given to her. If only she knew then the emotional significance the carousel would hold for her.

Sunny flicks the switch of the carousel and it churns into life. The carousel lights up and spins slowly. With it resting on her lap, it illuminates the walls with reflections of ponies. They dance around the room as the carousel goes round and round in an almost-hypnotising fashion. It voices a tune in the style of a lullaby that she has heard many times before. What was once soft and gentle is now morbid and sombre.

The light hums along with the melody, and she listens as her head is filled with memories of a time unknown to her as she recollects a life she never had. The carousel stops and the pitter-patter of heavy rain is heard once more. A tear is shed, and the carousel is turned on again. From the memories, words are revealed to her as the tune is repeated. Softly, she sings to her, praying, wishing she could hear her voice, telling her everything will be all right. Together, they sing in unison the song Sunny’s father invented:

In this land there are three tribes

Unicorns and Pegusi

And Earth Ponies, long divided

Kingdoms lost, ununited

In the depths of deep despair

These three live in disrepair

Deeply scared to face others

Whom we share one wondrous verse

Distant memories depart

Long forgotten since the start

Each of us, we were once friends

‘Til the night it came to an end

Though it’s dark throughout the night

There’s a light just out of sight

Out of reach of an outstretched hoof

Patiently, we wait for proof

Only when should one brave stand

To show that we can come to band

Will this light come within reach

And prove to all what it can teach

Through friendship and honesty

Laughter, kindness, and loyalty

Generously, they’ll come to be

One for all eternity

When we will unite as one

All this hate will be foregone

And our bond come to renew

Past, present, and future, too

In this time of growing hate

Friendship we seem to negate

Will you stay right by my side

‘Til the tribes relieve their pride

I will stay right by your side

When in doubt, look for the light

In the dark, look real tight

And you will see that all is right

‘And I will see, that all is right…’

With the song finished, the carousel switches off, the light disappears and along with it the short-lived recollection of Sunny’s father despite her trying desperately to reach out a hoof for it to stay. The carousel returns to idle, leaving Sunny alone to wallow in the sound of ambient silence while the storm rages on outside. Since before the creation of the carousel, Sunny’s father had spoken of the three tribes – the unicorn, the pegusi, and the earth ponies – and how they suffered the loss of friendship between each other. Since she first heard this tale, Sunny has always dreamed of making friends with the other tribes of Equestria but now that dream seemed shattered beyond repair. When they were first sung to her, Sunny did not fully understand the meaning of the last few verses. Initially, she had innocently thought that the light in the verse sang about the light of the sun and how brightly it shone when morning arrived. It was not until now, that she felt most alone, that their words hit with a spark of wondrous comprehension, though strong in bitterness they taste and hard to swallow. ‘Sing it again for me, Daddy.’ She would joyously request, and he would willingly perform, and together they would sing sweetly and harmoniously whatever the weather outside their walls. Now, with no one by her side to offset her precious singing, without a second voice to accompany its delightful tune, she can no longer envision a life of peace and security for herself let alone the tribe of three.

Watching from above, she is confused as to how she knows the lyrics to this song verbatim. She knows nothing of Sunny’s world, the three tribes, the light and the darkness that illume and veil them, or the significance of their unity. The last verse is of mystery to her as the rest of the song and the words recite in her mind, repeating on an endless loop. After mentally repeating the verses, slowly and without the need to ask a single question they reveal their true meaning to her, like a portrait being hoof-painted by a singular brush or a tree growing large and strong from a weakling sapling. Little by little do the smaller details come together to create the bigger picture, and she is deeply scarred by its attribution for Sunny.

‘I-I…’ She begins but struggles to speak. Her throat is gripped tightly with nothing but a vague understanding of the sorrow Sunny is going through. ‘S-Sunny… I-I’m so sorry.’ The light flashes its dark blue into the pool, and she looks up to it. ‘I-is this what you wanted me to see? A young filly made distraught by the loss of a loved one?’

Before she could speak again, the light flashes white, flares brightly, burns intensely, and blinds her sensitive eyes. The light shines brighter than it has ever done so before and for a beneficial reason. She immediately closes her eyes, though little good it does as she feels the heat burning into her eyelids. She is unable to withstand the heat so holds aloft a hoof, which scorches in place of her eyes, and faces away.

After a lengthy while, the light, as well as the heat, slowly fades. She does not open her eyes right away; she is hesitant, fearful of what she might find. Her acute hearing perceives that the hum of the light was no longer sounding from above, that it had changed position. Her curiosity overcomes her fright and she opens her eyes again. She glances up to the light but, to her surprise, it has at last moved from its statutory position. The light now shines on her level, a few feet away from the side of the fountain, in its familiar bright white staring at her with a glare.

She is shocked to find that the light has revealed itself in the form of an unfamiliar pony. Despite it being composed solely of light, it is detailed in the highest quality. It is larger and broader than herself and is built of masculine quality. Specific shades of light outline its facial features; eyes, snout, mouth, and ears, as well as its short mane and tail, which hang delicately in the void of air. The humming is louder and resonates from this strange stallion. She shudders frightfully before it. It does not move, it does not speak, but it does acknowledge her with a stare and a confident, encouraging, pleasant grin.

Despite its attempt to appear harmless to the young filly, she is stunned, struck to the spot, and does not know how to properly react to the sight before her. She is nervous, afraid of the light’s distinct but unrecognisable disposition, and curious as to why it has shown itself to her at this time and in this form.

She gulps, forcing saliva to slide down her throat in an attempt to clear it, and speaks shyly to the unnatural Being of Light whose honour she has been granted to stand in its presence. ‘H-hello.’ She says with a great deal of effort. She waits for the Being of Light to return her greeting, but it does not. ‘Wh-who are you?’ She asks. The Being of Light does not respond. ‘A-are you the one that was in the light?’ The Being of Light does not answer.

The Being of Light rotates its head slightly and glances at the pool she stands before. The Being of Light walks towards it slowly, carefully, so as not to spook the already tense filly. As it moves, not a single click is heard from its hooves, not a single breath of air is taken, not a single word is spoken. It is as if it were a ghost, floating above the invisible flooring, submerged under water, or trapped within a vacuum.

Her fear towards the unknown entity rises as it nears. She finds an immense desire to flee creeping over her, urging her to run to a safe distance from the being, from the light, from the pool. Yet, her legs do not obey. They understand her plea but do not respond, as if they are rebelling, or curious to see the Being of Light’s intent, or have knowledge prior to what the Being of Light desires. So she watches with eyes quivering with fear. Despite her conscience telling her otherwise, the Being of Light pays her no mind and it inspects the pool. She watches as the Being of Light simply peers over the edge and stares into the still liquid that the basin encapsulates, examining the young filly below. She watches as the Being of Light’s facial expression shifts to concern and worry. She watches as the Being of Light speaks into the liquid, but its words are silent. She watches as the Being of Light raises a hoof and places it gently upon the basin of the fountain. Understanding that it requests nothing from her for now, she lowers her guard and too watches the pool and the filly below.

Sunny sits in silence for a while, listening to the trickling sounds of rainwater, lost within the memory of her father’s gift. ‘I’m sorry, Daddy.’ Sunny says, accompanied by a discouraged sniffle. ‘I… I don’t think I can go on without you. I don’t think I can make it on my own. I can’t… I can’t see the light of the sun. I’m too surrounded by the darkness of the night. I can’t hear the laughter, I can’t see the kindness, the loyalty, the honesty, the generosity in what has happened to you. I can’t understand this friendship that has taken you away from me. How can I carry on knowing that you’re not here? How can I carry on knowing I can never see you again? I don’t… I don’t know what to do.’

Sunny’s heart plummets into an abyss of unfathomable despair and sadness, and she feels every second of its freefall, hears every harrowing scream it cries, and sees it disappearing into the black right before her glazed eyes. Slowly, and without a word, she wraps her hooves around the carousel and gently squeezes in an emotionally distraught embrace hoping it would cease her suffering. The butterfly is disturbed and flutters frantically off the carousel and lingers airborne around the room.

Sunny continues through nothing more than a whisper on the air: ‘I’m too weak. I can’t control it. I can’t control myself. I miss you too much. I want you back. I want you here. I want to be with you again. Daddy…!’ Silently Sunny cries, allowing her tears to fall from her face and slide down the intricate outer shell of the carousel.

The energy produced from the Being of Light weighs heavily on the face of the filly above upon hearing her speak of him once more. ‘D-daddy…?’ She quietly repeats. The meaning of the word tastes sweet to her tonsils, familiar yet unknown. A hefty feeling of unknown origin weighs her down. ‘Th-that word… Th-this feeling. Wh-what does it mean?’ She discreetly glances to the Being of Light and watches as it pulsates heavily under the guilt of leaving earlier than expected. Then the image in her mind is made clear and bursts into a rainbow of bright colours, as if a bubble had been pierced by the sharp end of a needle and is spilling in an avid array of colourful paint onto the already-spoiled canvas as if it were right before her eyes, and she is made clear of the situation of Sunny. ‘N-no… I-it can’t be… I-I would never have… I-I think I…’

With her thoughts running erratically within her head, she feels her legs quickly descend into unsteadiness and she loses her balance for a brief moment. She places a hoof onto the rim of the basin to steady herself, and the liquid glows a light blue. The Being of Light abruptly shifts its gaze to her as it recognises the glow. She is taken by surprise at the Being of Light’s rapid glance and removes her hoof, diminishing the glow. The Being of Light stares at her for a moment, curiously examining her, before smirking and removing its own hoof from the basin and places it on the surface of the ground with no sound to follow. The Being of Light gently tilts its head towards the pool, encouraging her to place her hoof upon the basin once more and show it the glow that emerges from the liquid. She glances between her hoof and the basin before acceptingly placing her hoof onto its edge. The liquid glows a light blue for a third time, and the Being of Light inquisitively investigates the pool. Together, they watch the scene below unfold like a depressing marionette puppet show – not that she knows what a marionette is.

With her head buried heavily into the carousel, Sunny’s vision is seized by a shining light and she looks up. A ray of light shines inside her room through the panes of the secured window. It quickly travels from her face, across the floor, and onto the wall before it disappears into the brickwork. Sunny momentarily suspends her sorrow for curiosity and pushes herself off her bed to inspect the source of the light. With the carousel in hoof, she slowly makes her way towards the window and, placing the carousel at her hooves on the floor where it remains motionless and silent, she stares out of the rain-soaked glass.

Staring over the storm-soaked town, Sunny watches the rainstorm pelt her windowpane and the sea as it rages violently, crashing into the rocks below and sweeping the seafront with seawater. The butterfly lands on the windowsill and stares out with her, resting its weary wings, grateful that it is safely sheltered within the walls of the lighthouse and not still seeking shelter while weathering the storm. She glances at the butterfly as it makes its descent and returns to stare up into the sky. The sky is filled heavily with dark clouds that span far across the ocean’s raging surface and further beyond. It bears no sign of slowing down, and she quietly sheds a tear.

There, on the distant horizon, the sun breaks through the clouds and shines a ray of light that catches Sunny’s sorrow-filled face, isolating her from the rest of the dreary world. The light blinds her, but she does not close her eyes or look away. She allows the light to unveil her, to warm her, to enlighten her, to comfort her. She breathes a deep sigh of encouraging remorse and, for the first time today, feels calm, relaxed, and inspired almost.

‘I shouldn’t…’ Sunny says, trying to free her throat from the black hoof that tightly grasps it. ‘I shouldn’t do this. I shouldn’t feel sorry for myself. That’s not going to make anything better. That’s not going to help me. That’s not what Daddy would want. He… He wouldn’t want me to feel sad. He wouldn’t be happy if he knew I wasn’t happy. But how can I be when I’m so…’ She pauses and shivers, as if shaking out the negative thoughts from her body. ‘No! I can’t think like that. I need to stay strong. I need to keep on keeping on… For Daddy’s sake… For my sake.’ She looks down at the carousel, which brings back a flood of memories, and then at the butterfly, of which sits peacefully on her window ledge. The sight of the peaceful butterfly has her recall a passage she once read in an old folktale and recites its words.

“For too long was I in the dark

Too long did I wander aimless

Too long was I without the light of the Celestials

But now, in my darkest hour

Where I am most lost, where I am most alone

I am finding the courage to carry on.”

Sunny looks into the sky again, carefully wipes her snout with her free hoof, and spots the ray of the sun fading away. ‘I need to find my courage. I need to find a way to carry on.’ The sun slowly starts to disappear behind the dark clouds, as if being overpowered by the vast storm. ‘Even if the sun disappears, even if the sun sets beyond the distant horizon, there will always be a light, I just need to look real tight, then I will see that all is right. And I’ll always know, that all is right…’

With that said, the sun finally disappears for the last time behind the clouds and the land is shrouded in shadow once more.

Up above, the young filly removes her hoof from the basin’s rim and shifts her gaze to the Being of Light. She notices a slightly lighter shade of light running across its face, as if a tear had formed and was trailing down its cheek, its expression shifts to a proud smile, and the edging of its translucent body crackles as if it were covered in spiked barbs. Her body warms to the sight and she too emits a smile.

The Being of Light notices her stare and catches her gaze. She tenses. She quickly glances back down at Sunny, hoping the Being of Light too would avert its eyes. But it does not. After a moment of staring at her, the Being of Light moves itself around the pool and stands at her side. She looks at it, the Being of Light almost blinds her with how close it is, but she does not close her eyes or look away.

With the Being of Light standing only a stride away from her, it lifts its hoof and holds it extended. She realises it reaches out to her, as if curious itself to find out if she was of solid matter, to press against her head, to stroke her coat, or to brush her mane but was too polite to do so without invitation. The hoof hovers just out of her reach in suspended animation as is such with her stubby legs. The Being of Light pulsates as it speaks to her despite her not understanding. It waits patiently as she glances between the shapes of its face and its poised hoof.

Hesitantly, filled with uncertainty from the unknown being, she too outstretches a shaky hoof as far as she could. It did not quite reach the Being of Light’s hoof, but she could feel the heat emanating from it. Having been granted permission, the Being of Light slowly extends its own hoof and gently places it against hers. Upon the immediate connection between hooves, her breath is taken away from her and she gasps sharply as her mind is filled with a memoir of events of a past life unfamiliar to her.

With bated breath, she watches as a chain of memories go by in an instant through the eyes of a stallion in times still meaningful. She watches as the stallion’s foalhood is spent with joyful innocence of endless fun and carefree carelessness. She watches as the stallion grows and becomes charmed by a beautiful mare his age and falls blissfully in love with her. She watches as the stallion swears vows to forever comfort her, to never leave her side, to give her everything she needs for a healthy and normal relationship. She watches as they grow together; they are excited to marry, are thrilled to give birth, and are gratified to become parents to a spirited filly. She watches as the memory grows dark and the stallion is filled with the sadness of a passing, hoof-locked with whom he cares most. She watches as days pass like ages for the sorrow-filled stallion, lost within a world fashioned for two. She watches as the memory brighten once again and the stallion is restored to his prior self upon the calling from his darling daughter; where there was a black abyss of sadness in the stallion’s heart now burns an overwhelming flame of diligent responsibility towards his healthy and active offspring. She watches as the stallion observes his daughter’s growth, too fast for his desire, but his pride never wavers. She watches as suddenly, and out of the blue, darkness consumes, and silence beyond.

She releases her breath, and simultaneously retrieves her hoof. With heavy breathing, she faces the Being of Light, but stares into oblivion, as the Being of Light lowers its hoof. A tear is shed and slides smoothly down her cheek as unfathomable emotions tear her asunder. ‘Y-your suffering… I-I feel it, too… I-I’m… S-so sorry… F-for your…’

‘Now you understand my life,’ The Being of Light speaks to her, finally in a language she understands. The voice is of a stallion, old and wise, reaping with knowledge, bountiful with emotion, gentle like a butterfly, soothing like a lullaby, calming like a coral reef – not that she knows what a coral reef is – yet somehow lifeless, lamented, prohibited. She gasps upon hearing a voice other than her own within the boundaries of her limitless void. It sounds strange to her, as if she is imagining the voice, as if it is all in her head, her very own thoughts. The Being of Light continues, ‘and the sorrow that Sunny is going through. I wish I could see her, to speak to her, to tell her I love her one last time, to tell her how proud I am as a father, but alas my time in that place is ended. And I fear my time here is coming to a close.’

‘Wh-what?’ She says, struck with a burst of panic. ‘N-no! Y-you can’t leave now. Y-you’ve only just got here. I-I’ve only just met you. I-I have so many questions about this place, this void, this emptiness I’m in.’

The Being of Light glances around, then up above, then back to her and sighs. ‘Very well.’ The Being of Light says. ‘I will try to answer them to the best of my ability. But keep it brief. I know not how much time I have left. Make each question count.’

She is taken back by his willingness to answer her questions. She initially thought it would take persuasion to earn his will, though does not know where this thought came from.

‘Wh-what is this place?’ She asks. ‘Wh-where is this place? Wh-when is this place?’ Her last question is of mystery to her, as she did not yet comprehend the concept of time.

‘This place,’ The Being of Light says, ‘this “void” as you call it, is yours.’

‘M-mine?’ She says.

‘Yours,’ The Being of Light says, ‘and yours alone, to do with how you will. It is yours to explore, yours to bend, yours to expand, yours to create, yours to live in whichever way you please.’

‘L-live?’ She says, then adds for herself, ‘S-so I am alive…’ With a brief pause of suspended disbelief, she ponders what this information means to her but quickly remembers she has limited time to finish asking her questions. ‘Wh-why am I here? H-how did I end up here? I-is there any way out? C-can I leave?’

The Being of Light pauses for a moment, considering its options before answering. ‘Why you are here, and how you came to be here, you already know the answer to.’ The Being of Light says. She puzzlingly stares at the Being of Light, wondering what its answer means, if it could be true, and if so what the answer is. The Being of Light continues, ‘“Is there a way out?” Have you searched for an exit? Is there one readily available for you? “Can you leave?” Have you tried? Are you capable of doing so?’

She looks at the Being of Light with a thoughtful gaze. She has been aware of her existence for only a while but has yet to make an attempt of finding an escape or if there even is one. ‘N-no,’ She says, answering all of the Being of Light’s questions at once, ‘but I don’t want to stay here. I-I don’t want to stay in this void. I-it’s too dark, it’s too cold, I’m too lonely.’

‘Do not fret, dear child, you will learn why you have been chosen soon enough.’ The Being of Light says, but strangely. She notices the Being of Light’s voice changed ever so slightly, as if it had just awoken from a deep sleep or galloped for hours upon hours without rest.

‘Ch-chosen?’ She says, confused by the word and its meaning. ‘B-but I don’t understand. Wh-why have I been chosen? Wh-what is my purpose?’

With no forethought of warning, a second light flashes into existence above them both, showering her with its golden light and almost cloaking the Being of Light. Forcefully but silently, the new light beckons forth the Being of Light. Both she and the Being of Light glance up to the light. ‘My time is at its end.’ The Being of Light says. ‘I must go.’

‘Wh-what!’ She says. ‘Y-you can’t go, not now. I-I have so many more questions that need answering. Y-you can’t leave me.’ She glances to the fountain and the thought of the young filly enters her mind. ‘Wh-what about Sunny? Y-you can’t leave Sunny behind, can you?’

‘I fear I already have.’ The Being of Light says solemn, regretful, scornful of itself.

‘B-but she needs you.’ She says. ‘I-I need you. I-I need you to tell me what I should know about her.’

The Being of Light responds sharply, startling her. ‘Do not make this harder than it already is. Do you think it was my desire to leave? Do you not think I wanted to stay and ensure my own daughter is safe? Did it ever occur to you that I—’

The Being of Light cuts itself short upon realising its rising anger and turns its head away. Its eyes close as it stands deep in thought clouded by frustration. She understands that it does not desire to leave but has no choice in the matter.

‘I-I’m sorry.’ She says. ‘I-I didn’t mean to… I-I know what you’re going through. I-I know that you’re—’

‘No, you don’t.’ The Being of Light says cutting her off mid-sentence. The Being of Light is still frustrated but is calmer than before, but it is too late for the filly to feel any security from it. ‘You could not possibly understand the sacrifice I made, the life I left behind. Look at you; look at where you are, look at how you act, listen to how you speak. How could you possibly comprehend anything beyond what you see in front of you? How could you possibly believe anything other than what you listen to? You know nothing outside the space of your void, your bubble, your comfort. You do not know what it feels like to lose family, to be torn from those you love, to have never gotten a chance to say goodbye. Your entire existence has been within this dark emptiness, you’ve never ventured out, you’ve not accomplished anything with your existence, and this void will remain your prison until you find a way to escape it. No, you do not know what I’m going through. You do not know what I’m feeling.’

She is taken back by the assertiveness in the Being of Light’s voice. Upon hearing its exclamations, she says nothing and slowly lowers her head to stare down at her own hooves. She could feel them quiver on the spot. She breathes slowly, as if thinking any sudden movement could trigger another denunciation from the Being of Light. ‘Th-that’s not fair.’ She says with a whispered breath. ‘I-I don’t have a choice. I-I don’t know any better. I-I never wanted to be here. I-I just want to leave. I-I’m sorry…’

The Being of Light notices her trembling and it takes a moment to soothe its indirect hatred towards her. ‘I’m sorry for my outburst.’ The Being of Light says with a sigh. Its words are sincere, but the outcry has been heard and has scorched a wound deep within the fabrics of her chest. ‘I didn’t mean to snap. I’m just upset that I could not stay.’

She does not look up, afraid that if she does the Being of Light will take it the wrong way and verbally lash out again. The Being of Light stares at her, watching her, examining her, wishing she would meet its gaze, but she does not. The Being of Light fears it has overstayed its welcome and dares to stay any longer than it desires. The Being of Light takes a step to her and kneels to below her level and looks up to her.

‘Listen.’ The Being of Light says, gently moving her mane from her face and lifting her gaze to meet its own.

She briefly looks at the Being of Light but is unable to withstand its stare and forces herself away. It is not the brightness of the Being of Light, it is not the heat that turns her face away, but instead the size and scope of its wisdom and dominance. Despite hating what was said, she knows the Being of Light’s censure is and will remain true. She has known nothing but the darkness of the void she awoke in. She does not know the feelings of family, of love, of friendship. She has not experienced the freedom outside of the void. She has only imagined and speculated what those feelings would taste like, and she hates knowing that this may possibly be true. It is not that she cannot look at the Being of Light, it is that she desires not to due to the pain it causes her.

The Being of Light begins to shiver, and shimmer, and slither away piece by piece. Confused at first, the Being of Light glances around itself to find small particles of itself falling apart and floating upwards towards the overhead light, glittering like a few dozen fireflies that have escaped their captivity. As each piece breaks away, the Being of Light begins losing its intensity, its brightness dwindles, and with it its strength.

With the light no longer blinding, she looks at the Being of Light to find it fading away. All her fears of being reprimanded disappear and is replaced with fear for the Being of Light’s wellbeing and eventual disappearance. ‘N-no…’ She whispers.

‘My time is up,’ The Being of Light says, ‘and so am I. It is too soon, but I cannot change the course of progression.’

‘P-please…’ She says in desperation but hangs motionless in the air, the Being of Light returns to its hooves and stands tall before her.

Glancing down at her, the Being of Light searches her wide-open eyes and finds a delicate glisten within them, a glisten of undiscovered pain and distress. Despite knowing its words might have been the cause of this stress, the Being of Light is puzzled by the signs she shows and wonders if the glistening denotes deeper meaning: a past he was not permitted to access, a part of the mind he was forbidden to enter, a section of history ingrained deep within the solidarity of her history. The Being of Light desires to know more, to better understand the filly within the dark, but time waits not even in the void.

‘However,’ The Being of Light continues, ‘before I am taken, I request something of you.’

She glances to the Being of Light upon hearing its words. ‘A-a request?’ She says. She has never been asked a request before so does not know what it entails. ‘Wh-what’s that?’

The Being of Light does not answer right away and instead presses its hoof against its chest. With the last of its strength, it jerks and pulls out a part of itself. Within the Being of Light’s diminishing hoof glows a small orb of light, brighter than the Being of Light and swirling with whiteness, like clouds circling the world. The Being of Light holds out the orb and presents it to her. She stares at the orb as its light shimmers and illuminates her face. She reaches out for the orb with both hooves, the heat from the orb reaching her hooves before she even touches it, and accepts it as a gift from the Being of Light. The orb is hot to the touch but does not scorch her; a comfortable heat, like a readily-made mug of hot chocolate – not that she knows what hot chocolate is. Its surface is spherical, smooth, and has a somewhat weighted gravity behind it. It is as bright as the light hanging above her, maybe a little brighter to her sensitive eyes, and the longer she stares into it the more it burns her retinae.

She finds the orb pretty, beautiful even, and is filled with the tender warmth of gratitude despite not yet fully understanding its function or the Being of Light’s intention. She finds it strange how the Being of Light subjugated her with condemnation before willingly offering her a gift, but she feels obligated regardless.

‘I am no longer part of Sunny’s existence.’ The Being of Light says and she looks up to it, away from the orb. She feels her eyes cooling as soon as they are taken off the orb. ‘I no longer have thoughts to offer her, no emotions to share with her, no wisdom to pass on to her. I am without a connection to her world. But you… You have a means to communicate with Sunny through ways I cannot comprehend.’ The Being of Light glances to the fountain as its expressionless face shifts frantically. ‘I do not desire to leave you in this place, but I cannot withhold my departure. Therefore, my only desire lies with you…’

‘M-me?’ She says. ‘Wh-what can I do?’

‘Please, I beg of you,’ The Being of Light says, ‘look after Sunny for me. Follow her wherever she goes, guide her through this world of forevergrowth, look out for her in times of hardships, accompany her on her journey through her life, and ensure she—’

Briskly, the Being of Light cuts itself short and looks upwards, and she follows its gesture. The hanging light shines brightly still in the midst of nothingness with no visual change or alteration that she can see. She glances back to the Being of Light to find it slowly lowering its head to face her once more. The faded guise of its indistinguishable face shows a myriad of expressions; from sorrow to anger and fear to regret, but above all harmony remains at the forefront of its appearance. It is time for the Being of Light to depart, to move onwards beyond the unknown; she knows this and is powerless to prevent the occurrence despite her pleas.

‘N-no!’ She cries out. Her grip of the orb loosens and it slides out of her grasp and falls heavily to the flooring beneath her, landing motionless and without a sound glowing dimly. ‘I-I have so many more questions. H-how can I communicate with Sunny? H-how can I guide her in her world? H-how can I… Y-you can’t go! P-please, don’t leave!’

‘Please, do not think me as anything less than a proud father.’ The Being of Light says. ‘Promise me you will watch over her… As I should have done.’ The Being of Light says slowly, as if becoming weaker and weaker with each spoken word. The Being of Light turns to the fountain. With what little strength it had left to muster, it raises its hoof and places it gently upon the rim of the basin. ‘Goodbye… My glorious Starscout.’

With a last goodbye that is incapable of reaching Sunny, the light from the being’s ethereal configuration intensifies, blinding her so that she covers her eyes. When the light dissipates, she lowers her hoof to find the Being of Light, and the light above, have vanished from her existence leaving her alone in the darkness of the void once more. She releases a low, solemn, shaky sigh upon realising that she is once again alone.

Slowly, shakingly, she turns away from the fountain, steps down from the steps, and walks a few staggered paces into the surrounding darkness. She tries calming down, she tries contemplating her options, but all she can think about is the Being of Light and its last spoken words.

‘L-look after Sunny.’ She repeats. ‘F-follow her, guide her, look out for her, accompany her, ensure her happiness… W-watch over her…’

The light from the fallen orb shines dimly but catches her vision from the corner of her eye. It is now one of only two objects lighting her existence. She looks over and stares at the soft blue glow emanating from the surface of the basin upon the fountain. She returns to looking inside the pool and finds Sunny still staring out of the window. She places her hoof on the basin’s ridge and a light blue glow emanates from the liquid, and from the window upon Sunny.

Staring teary-eyed from the window, Sunny stares off into the distant horizon. Suddenly and blindingly, a large bolt of lightning races underneath the dark clouds, briefly illuminating Sunny’s darkened face, and vanishes over the ocean just as quickly as it appeared. With the one and only bolt of lightning making an appearance, the raging rainstorm appears to have dwindled slightly and the downpour has softened. The clouds have shared their tears with the residents of Maretime Bay and is waving a solemn farewell to the town as it departs over the waves and journeys beyond the seas. The dark clouds she stares at part ways perfectly to reveal the sun setting beyond the horizon. The sun shines sympathetic of the foregone day, directing its rays upon Sunny as she stares into its light, and she shows a small confident smile.

The encouraging sunset brings a smile to Sunny’s distraught face, and she clears the fears and tears from her look and her eyes. ‘I’m sorry, Daddy.’ There’s that word, again, the one that now tastes bittersweet on the tongue and possesses more weight. ‘It… It will take a while, learning to live without you. It will be tough, I don’t know if I’ll be able to make it, but I’ll try to stay strong. I’ll live my life the best I can, as if you were still here. I will glow brightly, I will shine brighter than ever before, brighter than the sun rising in the early morning, brighter than the flash of a lightning bolt, brighter than the brightest stars in the darkest night. I’ll shine so bright, you’ll be able to see me no matter where you are. I’ll do it all for you. I’ll… I’ll make you proud, one day, I’ll make you proud, I promise.’ She closes her eyes and smiles proudly at herself, filled with the strange feeling of mournful confidence and satisfaction. ‘Goodbye, Daddy.’

Behind the breaking clouds, a fair distance away from Maretime Bay, the sun sets beyond the sea’s raging waves, bringing this mournful day to a thankful close. Sunny waits until the sun has disappeared completely beyond the distant horizon. With the last of the sun’s rays showering Maretime Bay for the day, Sunny breathes deeply, calmly, and reluctantly as she knows she has no choice but to move on with her life as her father would have wished. She closes the window shutters and locks them, so the wind does not inconveniently blow them open during the night, and she begrudgingly returns to her bed, gets snuggled up in her comfortable blankets, and yawns heftily. She gives her busy walls a quick glance, reminiscing the days long gone of her father. She grins a melancholic smile before rolling over and closing her eyes. Quietly she whispers to herself, curling up for comfort. ‘I’ll make you proud…’ With the last of her energy spilling sleepily from her aching body, she passes out and dreams peacefully for the entirety of the night.

From up on high, she smiles proudly at Sunny’s proclamation. ‘A-a promise…’ She says. Despite only hearing this word twice, she understands its full definition and meaning. ‘A-a promise, to your daddy, to yourself, to me…’ She pauses, her comprehension quickly sinking in. ‘I-I… I-I will make a promise too, to you, Sunny. I-I can’t possibly comprehend the gravity of the sorrow you’re burdened to carry. I-I can’t respect you enough for the courage you so bravely show. B-but don’t be disheartened. I-I’ll take care of you. I-I’ll be your guide, your shining star, your satellite. I-I do not intend to replace your daddy, by any means, but I want you to know that I am here, by your side. M-my promise to you, and to your daddy, I will always be with you, I will always watch over you. F-from this point on, as long as I’m with you, I will be… Th-the Watcher.’

—

The orb below her hooves glows brighter from this declaration if only for a moment. The newly pronounce Watcher glances down to the orb on the level below her. The orb pulsates faintly, as if responding to her self-entitlement. She hops down the steps, picks up the orb, and holds it before her. She sees the faint reflection of a pony that she undoubtedly recognises as herself staring back at her within the swirling clouds of light. Her reflection smiles at her, as if proud of her declaration, and she smiles back.

The Watcher returns to the fountain with orb in hoof. She places the orb on the rim of the basin. As soon as she releases it, it rolls off and lands heavily but silently on the floor below motionless. She picks it back up and places it back on the rim and holds it there. With nowhere to store it, she wishes there was a stand for the orb to rest on.

‘U-ugh, I wish there was a place I could put this thing.’ The Watcher says. ‘I-it would be great if it had a nice fancy pedestal to sit in, like the water fountain.’

As soon as her wish was voiced, the steps beneath her begin to rumble and the water in the basin ripples. The Watcher glances down and sees her stubby legs wobbling rapidly. She lets go of the orb, which rolls off the edge and lands motionless at the foot of the fountain, and jumps off the steps in fear of falling off and takes a few steps away. At the side of the steps rises a pedestal from beneath the flooring and stops upon reaching the same height as the fountain.

The Watcher slowly returns to the steps, picks up the orb, and ascends the steps once more. She peers into the newly arrived pedestal to find a basin similar to the fountain basin but different somehow. Upon further inspection, she finds the basin to be narrower, shallower, and emptier than the pool that shows her moving images. An idea conjures itself to her and she places the orb of light into the pedestal basin. It is a perfect fit, and she is glad that she no longer needs to keep hold of it, but she wonders why the pedestal appeared to begin with.

‘H-how did this—’ The Watcher says but cuts herself short as the words of the light returns to her, echoing in her mind. She speaks them aloud: ‘Th-this place is mine, to do with what I will.’

While its words do not connect with the Watcher immediately, what she aspires to conclude is that whatever she desires will be granted. She tests this theory by desiring a warm blanket, one that she could snuggle inside of and feel the comforting warmth that the light once gave her.

‘C-can I have a blanket?’ The Watcher says aloud into the void, hoping someone, anyone, will hear her. ‘O-one that’s warm and fluffy?’

For a moment the Watcher waits, glancing around her vicinity, wondering if her hypothesis is correct. Nothing is happening and she wonders if her belief was incorrect. She sighs in disappointment and rethinks what those words could have meant, or if she even remembered them correctly.

Then the Watcher feels something light, fluffy, and warm cover her back. She shrieks in surprise and jumps off the steps and behind the narrow fountain, feigning concealment. Slowly, she peers from behind the fountain to find a curious object laying on the ground in a clump. Out of curiosity, she steps out from behind the fountain and takes steady steps towards the object. The object does not move as she closes in and she concludes that the object is not sentient.

The Watcher wraps the object around her hoof and lifts it up. It feels light, fluffy, and warm, just like it did when it landed on her back. She shakes it open and throws it over her head like a hood and around her body like a cape – not that she knows what a hood or a cape is. Her body immediately feels warm, and she feels the comforting cover of safety hiding underneath the object.

‘S-so this is what the comfort of a blanket feels like.’ The Watcher says with a smirk. Though it is not the same warmth that the light provided, it is as close an alternative as she is going to get. ‘Th-thank you, for the blanket, but who is doing this?’ With no answer to her question, she is left to wonder for herself. She considers repeating the test but does not know what to ask for next. As she thinks what to ask for under the warmth of the blanket and the glowing light, she finds herself struggling to swallow. Her throat is dry beyond description and she feels more uncomfortable now that she has noticed it. She tells herself she could do with a drink and decides to ask for that. ‘I-I’m thirsty.’ She says. ‘C-can I have a glass, please?’

The Watcher waits, glancing around her vicinity, wondering where the glass would appear. To her amazement, a container made of clear glass provides itself to her and stands on a flat surface at the side of the fountain of water. She ascends the steps to find the glass to be empty and wonders why. She assesses her request and realises she neglected to specify the water to come with it. She asks for the glass to be filled with liquid, water, a substance that she can drink. She watches in amazement as a thin waterfall of liquid falls from high above and pours itself into the glass filling it to the brim with crystal-clear water. She takes the glass of water and, without any thought of what may lay within, swallows the substance in one fell gulp. She feels the icy-cold liquid slide down her throat, quenching an immense thirst she never knew she had, the ice-cold temperature freezing her now warm body, and she sighs satisfyingly after a brief shiver. Upon placing the glass back on the stand, she tightens the blanket around her to rewarm herself. It is now that she knows for sure that whatever she desires will become her reality.

For a brief moment of vulnerability, the Watcher debates whether to ask for an exit, to be free from this void, to be able to walk among the others within the land below. Her desire to leave immensely outgrows her desire to stay. Yet, upon relooking into the basin, at Sunny’s sleeping self, something holds her back; something she cannot explain, something she cannot touch, see, hear, smell, or taste. But whatever it is, it is there and it is strong.

The Watcher remembers the promise she made, and peers over the basin down at Sunny sleeping seemingly peaceful in her bed. ‘D-don’t you worry, Sunny.’ She says, holding a hoof over the water’s surface. The butterfly aviates from the windowsill and swirls around the bedroom before landing gently on Sunny’s pillow beside her snoozing head and joins her in a deep, unconscious sleep. ‘I-I will always be here for you. I-I will always be with you. I-I promise.’

The Watcher feels a strange sensation overtake her facial muscles as she releases another long yawn. She feels herself getting sleepier and her eyelids droop heavily over her eyes. Her body feels like it is becoming weaker as she struggles to maintain a sturdy posture. She releases another yawn, letting out her tiredness, and she feels a little stronger for only a moment. She has had a pretty exhausting first day, from an existential awakening to attaining information about her current existence. Now, she desires rest.

‘Th-thank you for the glass of water,’ The Watcher says, ‘but I would like to sleep, now, if that’s okay with you, whatever you are, wherever you are.’

At the Watcher’s command, a bed generates itself into existence, rising from the ground a little ways from the fountain, complete with duvet and pillows. The Watcher hops off the steps to further examine the newly arrived bed. The bed itself is small with barely enough legroom to stretch but suits her needs perfectly. The duvet is soft to the touch and fluffy beyond compare and is tucked into the bedframe. The two pillows at the top of the bed rest on the headboard and look just as fluffy as the duvet. The blanket beneath them is pulled tight and tucked tightly around the mattress. The mattress itself is surprisingly springy and sturdy. She throws her blanket from herself and drapes it on the bed-knob. She clambers on top and crawls underneath the duvet, resting her head on the pillows, and slowly drifts off into dreamland.

‘G-goodnight, Sunny.’ The Watcher says with a yawn and a smile.

As the Watcher sleeps peacefully, dreaming of enchanted fantasies and mystical adventures, silent voices echo their thoughts from within the darkness and reverb throughout:

‘… I just don’t know what went wrong…’

‘… I just don’t know how this could have happened…’

‘… It is not your fault…’

‘… There was nothing any of us could do…’

‘… How can you be so sure…’

‘… What proof do you present to deduce this proclamation…’

‘… This is no time to quarrel…’

‘… We need to figure something out…’

‘… Nothing will be forgiven…’

‘… Yet…’

‘… There is a way, there must be…’

‘… Rest assured, it is all, taken, care of…’

* * *

Many years have passed since that fateful day. Sunny has grown into a fine young mare and has persevered with her life despite being the last of her family. She has made a name for herself in Maretime Bay, and a few friends along with it. The early years had her struggling to cope with her new life but, thanks to the determination of her friends – and the ever-onlooking Watcher – she found the courage to escape out of her depressed state of being and began to enjoy life again. As the years went on, she would brave the many trials and tribulations that life earnestly throws her way and, through suffering the worst of the worst, overcomes many of them emerging a better equine. Yet, despite all these triumphs, she still feels the burdened weight of sorrow hanging on to her soul knowing that she can never truly face the fact that she is the last of her family. Her dream – a dream of meeting and greeting the other equine tribes – is now pushed to the forefront of her mind and she is more determined now than ever to meet them.

Growing up beside her, the Watcher also grew; not in height, or width, or age, or attitude, or physical physique – but rather in wisdom and knowledge and confidence from staying by Sunny’s spiritual side. She has grown to understand her place as Sunny’s watcher. She has grown to understand Sunny as a character, her joys, her fears, her mindset, her setbacks. She understands what makes Sunny sad, what makes her laugh, what scares her, what delights her – all from simply observing from her perch beyond the pool.

Watching Sunny every step of the way, the Watcher watches unseen beyond the shallow surface of water from the pedestal. Not a single moment in Sunny’s life went by unnoticed by the Watcher’s keen eye. From the moment she awoke the following morning – or rather Sunny’s following morning – to the day she became known all throughout Equestria, the Watcher keeps watch on every activity, every event, every point of interest that takes Sunny’s fancy, and even those that don’t. Through Sunny’s trials and tribulations, the Watcher reassures her with indirect influences that not even she fully understands: from having her friends pull her out of her dark, twisted state, to the acceptance and perseverance to carry on moving forward, and one she was not entirely sure she had any control over…

Sunny’s dream to meet and greet the other tribes soon became reality when a wandering unicorn ventures into Maretime Bay and causes a ruckus among the residents. Sunny and her newfound unicorn friend, who calls herself Izzy Moonbow, escape from the city as wanted fugitives. Through Izzy, Sunny and the Watcher find out that the unicorn magic has been lost and forgotten through time. Together they travel across Equestria in search of the pegusi tribe in the hopes of returning friendship to the land of Equestria and break this conflict between the three tribes.

Coming across a pegasus in the wild, calling herself Zipp Storm, they find that the pegusi have lost their gift of flight. Together, the band of three figure out a way to return the unicorn their magic and the pegusi their flight: by reuniting the three crystals adorned by each tribe, the magic of Equestria once lost will be returned to its denizens and, hopefully, harmony and friendship along with it.

After an enthralling adventure – one filled with harsh obstacles and arduous challenges – the three crystals are reunited once more and peace and friendship reign across Equestria and its magic is wondrously restored. Sunny and her newfound friends rejoice in delight at the peace and tranquility they have reintroduced to the ponies of Equestria after decades of conflict and discord that plagued the land. ‘We did it!’ Sunny proclaims excitingly. ‘But, did we do it alone?’ She wonders. She glances into the rainbow-auraed sky that stretches long and far throughout the land. Within it, she spots a faint but familiar sparkle blinking at her. With a smile, and a reassuring look on her face, she quietly says, ‘Thank you… Father…’

The Watcher looks at Sunny, staring directly into her eyes as she unknowingly stares into hers. She hears the honestness in Sunny’s voice, she sees the sincereness in Sunny’s smile, she feels the candidness in Sunny’s words, and it warms her body and mind and she smiles gratifyingly back. ‘You’re welcome…’ She says, her pride for Sunny burning brighter than the celestial body that rapidly lashes out cosmic energy in Equestria’s direction, ‘Sunny Starscout.’

The Watcher glances around her vicinity; she has since redecorated the area in which she has called home to how she sees fit – an upgraded bed has replaced her old one, a chest now sits at the bottom of the bed, a wardrobe stands a few hoofsteps away from the bed filled with the many items of clothing she asked for, an oval mirror hangs on the door of the wardrobe, a toilet, a sink, and a bathtub are situated at the opposite side of the bed isolated by a foldable divider – and she has gotten used to everything having its place. The orb of light that the Being of Light passed onto her all those years ago now hangs above from an elaborate chandelier and illuminates all of her belongings. She glances up to the light, and its light warms her face.

‘I’ve upheld my promise.’ The Watcher speaks to the orb. ‘Sunny has grown so much since your departure. She has overcome many obstacles obstructing her path. She has faced many fears and overcome tough predicaments. She has grown strong, and wise, and healthy, just as you would have desired. You should be proud of your Sunny.’ She pauses as she glances back to the pool. She spots Sunny locked in casual conversation with her new friends as she grows a better understanding of them. ‘I just…’ The Watcher says, a solemn tear welling in her eye. ‘I just wish I could be there with her, to speak to her, to be her friend as they have, to tell my story and to listen to hers.’

The Watcher throws her head away from Sunny and the pedestal, and steps over to her bed. She mournfully clambers onto it, pulls aside the sheets, and slides underneath. She tucks herself in and rests her head on the pillow. She stares, eyes wide open, at the pedestal and speaks to herself. ‘How much longer must I keep watch over her? How much longer until it is my turn to be praised for my efforts? How much further is my goal, my end, my exit? When will the time come when I’m finally free?’ She turns over to look away from the pedestal. Her thoughts date back to the time when she made her promise to forever watch over Sunny and asks herself if it was the right thing to do, or whether she should have attempted asking for the exit. ‘It’s just not fair.’ She cries. In this particular state of mind, in the bottom-most caverns of her self-reflection, she overthinks herself to the point of exhaustion and silently cries herself to sleep earlier than usual.

While the Watcher dreams of being at Sunny’s side for her next adventure, silent voices once more echo their thoughts from within the darkness and reverb throughout:

‘… The statistics are beyond comprehension…’

‘… But they are clear, as sand vitrified into glass…’

‘… I fear it has become increasingly more severe…’

‘… No, please tell me it isn’t true…’

‘… The worst is yet to come, I guarantee…’

‘… Say no more, I don’t, I can’t…’

‘… It won’t…’