The Wrong(?) Pony for the Job
In Canterlot, in a modest and cozy little house on a quiet street, lived a lonely unicorn. His home stood out from the others with its old-fashioned appearance: weathered but neatly painted shutters, a small garden filled with flowers that he lovingly tended, and a carved wooden porch leading to a massive oak door.
Inside, the atmosphere was warm and inviting: the floorboards creaked underhoof, the scents of freshly baked bread and herbal tea filled the air, and old family photographs and landscape paintings of Equestria adorned the walls.
The unicorn was known among the locals as a talented psychologist. But today, his concerns were far from work.
He stood in the kitchen, meticulously preparing the ingredients for lunch. With nimble movements, he chopped fresh vegetables, ensuring that each piece was perfectly even. The water in the kettle began to whisper softly as he added fragrant herbs to the clay teapot. A light breeze from the open window played with the curtains, bringing with it the scents of the blooming garden and the gentle sounds of the city.
Suddenly, he heard a knock at the door. It seemed to him that the sound was coming from afar, as if from another world, but he knew it was reality. Leaving his tasks behind, he made his way to the front door, thoughts flitting through his mind about who could be visiting at such an early hour.
Upon opening the door, he found a young filly with a cream-colored coat, green eyes, and a pale orange mane standing before him. A simple fabric bag hung around her neck, quite worn from time and frequent use.
The unicorn tilted his head with exaggerated reproach as he looked at her. It seemed somepony had forgotten their keys again. But the reproachful look disappeared as quickly as it had come—he simply couldn’t stay angry with her.
“You’re here early,” he said with a wide smile, stepping aside to let the filly in.
“I got out early,” she shrugged, making her way to the couch. “Is that a problem?”
“Maybe…” the unicorn mused, scratching his chin thoughtfully with his hoof. “Lunch isn’t ready yet.”
“I’m not hungry,” the filly shook her head and, dropping her bag, leaped onto the couch, stretching out with an air of complete relaxation.
Her tail hung neatly on the floor, and her eyes scanned the room with interest.
The unicorn cast a keen glance at the filly but said nothing and went back to the kitchen. Something was clearly bothering his daughter, even if she was hiding it well, but jumping straight into questioning was clearly a bad idea. It was best to let her unwind from school a bit, relax, and acclimate to the new surroundings. Once he finished chopping the vegetables, he tossed them into a pot and turned down the heat, letting them simmer.
Now it was time to talk.
The unicorn returned to the room, carrying two cups of fragrant tea. He set one cup on the table in front of the filly and comfortably settled onto a small couch opposite her, placing a pillow under his side.
“So, how was your day, sweetheart?” he asked gently, taking a small sip of tea.
“It was the same as usual,” the filly sighed, as if she had already prepared her answer. “A lot of paperwork.”
The unicorn mentally chuckled. Did she think she could brush him off with such a short answer?
“But there was something good, right?” he gently probed. “What stood out to you?”
“Well…” the filly began thoughtfully, trying to formulate her thoughts. “I made a friend. It seems your advice really worked.”
The unicorn nodded in satisfaction. Of course, his advice worked; he made a living from it.
The light smile that flickered on the filly’s slightly brightened face instantly warmed the unicorn's heart.
“Tell me about her,” the unicorn suggested, his voice warm and interested.
They began to talk, discussing how her day went.
The filly shared little details, mentioning how she met her new friend. They walked through the park together, enjoying the sunny day. They stumbled upon a street musician and decided to listen to him play. The music was so captivating that they couldn’t bring themselves to leave. They even struck up a conversation with the musician, learning a few interesting facts about his life and craft. Although there was a bit of an awkward moment when...
The unicorn laughed and joked, enjoying these moments of carefree conversation. He listened attentively and shared funny stories from his past, making her laugh even more.
The filly mentioned how much she liked the new bookstore she had stumbled upon on one of the streets of Canterlot. It had a cozy atmosphere, the smell of old books, and a friendly clerk who recommended her a few interesting new releases. She bought a couple of books and planned to return next week to chat with the clerk again and find something new to read.
The unicorn listened to her stories with delight, feeling his heart fill with warmth and pride. He knew how important it was for her to find her place in this world and to feel support and understanding.
Time flew by unnoticed, and he was pleased to see her relaxing and becoming more open.
The unicorn glanced at the considerably relaxed filly, who was contentedly finishing her fragrant tea, and realized it was time to bring up the main topic.
“It seems like things are getting better for you,” he said, trying to keep his voice calm and encouraging. “Was there anything bad in today’s day?”
The filly froze with her cup suspended in the air. Pressing her lips together, she set the cup down on the table and stared off into space for a moment, her gaze wandering around the room but seeming to focus on nothing in particular.
The unicorn didn’t rush her and patiently waited for a response.
“I was thinking about that incident again,” the filly replied reluctantly, her eyes boring into the couch. “I… it just washes over me, and I go back to that day. I don’t know if I can let it go…”
The unicorn squinted, and alarm bells rang in his head—this choice of words… And why did she say it as if she had already talked to him about it? He couldn’t have forgotten something so serious, could he? The unicorn’s mind creaked under the strain as he quickly ran through the last few days in search of clues.
“Here, I even drew it,” the filly sighed, reaching for her bag. “I was just sitting and mindlessly doodling on paper. I don’t even know how it turned out.”
Using telekinesis, the unicorn took the piece of paper and nervously stared at the drawing, releasing a mental sigh of relief a moment later—it depicted some griffin bullies tearing apart a family of plush bears that he had given her for New Year’s. It was a little troubling, but not as dark as the images his imagination had conjured up.
Glancing at the downcast filly with a dazed expression, the unicorn gritted his teeth, fighting the urge to hug her and reassure her. He was a professional, and while it was a bit sad, he didn’t want her to become dependent on him. He only wanted the best for his daughter so that she could grow up to be a strong and brave mare.
Hugs could wait—he needed to deal with what might become a psychological trauma in the future. Tomorrow, he would go to the school to find out what the heck was going on there and where the teachers were looking.
“If they can’t handle this, then I’ll take care of it myself,” the unicorn thought, narrowing his eyes.
First, he needed to find out her “point of focus” and start working with it.
“When you think about that incident, what’s the first thing that comes to your mind?” the unicorn asked calmly, not allowing her to close off in her thoughts.
“I see a griffin,” the filly replied unexpectedly in a steady voice, raising her eyes. “He’s standing over them, and his claws… are on them…”
“What did you feel at that moment?” the unicorn changed the subject, seeing that it was hard for her to talk about it.
“Fear and… helplessness,” the filly said, her lips trembling, her voice soft and uncertain.
The unicorn’s heart ached at the expression on his daughter’s face. He had to heal her soul and heart, doing everything possible to help her find peace again. Seeing her suffering, he felt a sharp pain as if her fears and pains had been transferred to him.
The unicorn understood that he needed to act carefully.
He stood up and moved closer to her, trying to create an atmosphere of trust and safety. Slowly, so as not to startle her, he began to speak in a soft but confident tone, guiding her through those painful memories.
“You’re safe here, next to me,” he started, maintaining eye contact. “Try to close your eyes and focus on your breathing. Inhale… exhale… Slowly, deeply. Imagine that you’re in a place where you feel good and calm.”
The filly obediently closed her eyes, her breathing becoming more even. The unicorn continued, using visualization techniques to help her distract from the unpleasant memories.
“Imagine that you’re by the shore of a quiet lake. The water is calm, and there’s a green forest around you. You can hear the birds singing, feel a gentle breeze on your fur. This is your safe place. You can return here every time you feel anxious.”
He gave her a few moments to fully immerse herself in this picture. Then, seeing that the filly had relaxed a little, he began to gently steer the conversation back to the topic, helping her cope with her emotions.
“When you think about that incident, try to focus on what you could have done differently to feel less helpless,” the unicorn suggested, trying to direct her thoughts in a constructive way. “You’re here now; you’re strong. Let’s find a way for you to manage these feelings in the future.”
The filly took a deep breath, trying to follow his advice. The unicorn continued to work with her softly but persistently, helping her break her fears down into small, manageable parts. He suggested that she write down her thoughts and feelings to better understand what exactly triggered her fears and how she could deal with them.
“It’s important to remember that you’re not alone in this,” he added, his voice gentle but confident, trying to instill in her a sense of support. “You have friends, you have me. You can always reach out for support. It’s important not to shut yourself away but to share your feelings.”
Gradually, the filly began to open up more, sharing her experiences and fears. The unicorn listened attentively, encouraging her and offering various techniques for managing anxiety, such as breathing exercises and meditation. It was important to him that she felt supported and cared for, and he was ready to do everything he could to help her find inner peace and strength to overcome her fears.
Before he knew it, he had already conducted a full therapy session with her. He didn’t even realize how it had happened. His thoughts were torn between professionalism and his feelings as a father, and at some point, he just switched off and began to operate on autopilot. Apparently, this is what they call professional deformation.
Looking at the peaceful filly on the couch, he nodded with satisfaction—soon everything would be alright with her. The unicorn's nose twitched as he caught the scent of the vegetable stew he had completely forgotten about. Sniffing carefully, he let out a relieved sigh—it seemed it hadn’t burned.
“Lunch is ready,” the unicorn said, trying to mask his inner worry. “Are you hungry now?”
The filly blinked, looked at the unicorn, and smiled while shaking her head.
“I think I’ll go,” she said in a deeper voice as she rose from the couch. “I was invited to a game night, and now I feel like I want to go.”
“...What?” flashed through the unicorn’s mind, frozen in shock.
What’s happening?
In the next moment, a sharp pain pierced his head, and everything around him began to blur. He felt the world collapsing around him, like an illusion he had created himself.
“I promise, next time I’ll definitely try your stew, if, of course, the offer still stands,” laughed the stallion, who had stopped in the doorway. “And… you’re really an excellent psychologist. Same time next week?”
Turning his head, the unicorn saw a slender gray pegasus with bags under his eyes, waiting expectantly for him. The unicorn stared blankly at him, completely dazed. His head jerked from a nervous twitch, and the pegasus took it as a nod.
Smiling, he gave a slight bow and left the house. He was already used to all sorts of oddities during these sessions—this unicorn could be a bit eccentric, but he was truly a top-notch professional. After just a few sessions, Moonlight was already feeling much better.
As the stallion closed the door behind him, he stepped outside and took a deep breath of fresh air. A light smile crossed his lips—today he was going to have a great time with his friends.
The unicorn jolted at the sound of the door slamming shut, breaking him out of his trance. He jumped up from the couch and rushed to the hallway, but froze before the table when his gaze caught on a drawing lying next to a mug.
Picking up the drawing, the unicorn’s eyes widened in shock, and the piece of paper slipped from his telekinesis—instead of plush bears, it depicted a brutal scene of slaughter against a family of pegasi.
The unicorn stepped back, his heart racing. Then his gaze noticed something under the cushion. Throwing the cushion aside, he picked up a notebook and scanned the open page: Moonlight Song... 26 years old... severe anxiety disorder... in the past... post-traumatic stress disorder... at age 12... drug trafficking gang... only he survived…
Throwing the notebook aside, the unicorn began to breathe heavily, feeling the onset of a panic attack. Suddenly, a thought pierced his mind, overpowering even his fear: Glimmer Hope… where is his daughter?
“Glimmer!” the unicorn shouted, starting to dart around the house, but she did not respond.
He ran upstairs and burst into her room. His gaze quickly swept the space, and in the next moment, he froze, staring with a glassy gaze at the table by the bed—a frame wrapped in black ribbon stood surrounded by flowers, displaying a photo of the filly.
“No…” the unicorn whispered, collapsing to the floor.
He felt the entire world slipping away from beneath his hooves, a bottomless void opening in his chest.
“No, no, no, no!” his voice grew desperate and hoarse, filled with immeasurable pain and despair.
His hooves began to scrape against the polished floor as he struggled to crawl backward. His mind reached a critical point; unbearable pain pierced his heart and mind, and in the next moment, everything in front of his eyes began to blur.
The unicorn stood in the hallway for a while, staring blankly at the wall.
Suddenly, his ear twitched as there was a knock on the door.
