Tin was old now, his once-lustrous auburn coat now a dull hue. His once-parted and coif blonde mane now rived with grey hairs. Tin was exhausted, his body decaying, and still, he sat, rocking slowly in his chair. He sighed wistfully to himself, remembering his childhood innocence. Tin once looked at the world with a foal-like curiosity, eager to discover its secrets, wishing to find out what the world contained.
“To be young again...” he mused to himself, exhaling a long and exasperated breath.
Tin’s rocking ceased as he closed his weary eyes, remembering back once more to his early years.
--0o0o0o0--
It was a bright day, and the small, auburn earth pony foal shared the same spirits. Tin looked out of the dark room, his room, and the room shared with all of the other abandoned foals. He stared upon the sun, gracefully cresting the mountaintop, its orange hues mixing wonderfully with the light-blue sky. At this age, he did not realize what this was, as he was just now coming into the consciousness of a small foal. His curiosity for the ball of light did not last, however, and he turned, looking upon his surroundings, the world, and the light, with an eager curiosity.
The small foal turned, now noticing the bars surrounding him. Tin was in a crib, surrounded by white, oak bars. His brow creased and he whined, already irritated by this obstacle preventing him from his sought exploration. The foal grew angry at the bars, furious that his adventure would be stopped. He thrashed at one of the bars with his forehoof, earning himself a small nick in the wood, along with a painful splinter.
Tin winced, tears brimming his eyes while he tore his hoof away and toward his muzzle. He pouted, looking upon the offending white piece of wood. He quickly regained determination, eager to seek the mystery behind the dreadful bars, and bared his gums onto the splinter. Tearing his mouth away, the splinter dislodged. He spat it onto the sheets beneath him, along with a small trickle of blood.
The blood entranced Tin, as he was not sure of what it was. Suddenly, he felt the pain. His hoof hurt; it stung, it burned, and the red liquid dripping from where the splinter had once been did not do much to alleviate his worry. He placed his small hoof into his muzzle, wishing to rid himself of the red liquid, believing it to be the source of his pain. The liquid tasted… odd, and Tin coughed, croaking weakly as a light dribble of the liquid left his mouth.
Soon enough, the blood was gone, along with the pain. Tin smiled smugly, seeing himself as the victor, and clopped his hooves together in triumph. He winced once more and shook his head, parting his hooves and remembering his injury. The foal’s long-set frown faded as he tilted his head toward the unopened cage before him.
Tin looked at the nick, examining it with intent. He turned around, aiming his rear hooves at the nick. He kicked with all force his small hooves could muster, leaving a gash in the bar. He managed to avoid splinters this time, causing him to silently cheer. Tin steadied himself, kicking back with his hooves several times until a satisfying ‘crack’ was heard. He turned back, looking to the bar to discover that it had been broken at the point of impact.
Tin pushed the upper half forward, allowing himself to squeeze through the bars and fall unceremoniously onto the floor in a heap. Thankfully, the ground was soft, not unlike the sheets in his crib. He rubbed at his head with his hoof, clearing away a dizzy feeling. He shakily stood, sore from the fall, and looked around the room.
The room was massive, at least in the small colt’s perception, spanning a wide and long area. There were several other cribs along the room very similar to his. He could still see the ball of light, looking through the window high above his crib. Looking further around the room, he could see oddly-shaped baubles. He trotted toward one, and saw that it looked like a small version of him, a pony.
Tin poked the toy, flinching as a high-pitched squeak emitted from the pony. He tilted his head, looking towards it curiously. He poked it once again. Squeak! He grinned, thoroughly enjoying the toy, and took it into his muzzle. He sat up with the toy in his mouth, looking further around the room and seeing a large white door. He trotted towards the door, the faux pony squeaking with each step, and nudged it open with his nose.
A dark expanse greeted him, dimly lit with flickering candles set upon desks in the hall. He was hesitant, taking another step out the door, but the squeak of the toy, his toy, reassured him. He continued forward, passing the lit candles and several closed doors. Soon, he came to stairs. He frowned, as he had never seen these angled steps, and was unsure how to handle them.
A reluctant hoof met the first step down, soon followed by another. He took his time, brow furrowing in concentration as he descended the steps. Within minutes he had reached the final step, but overstepped. He fell to the ground, his toy falling from his muzzle, accompanied by a reactive whimper. He closed his eyes, remembering the fall onto the ground from his crib, but this floor was not soft.
The next thing Tin heard was a loud and wheezing squeak. He slowly opened his eyes, adjusting to the light once more. He looked toward the ground and his muzzle came into contact with his toy. He hopped up excitedly, realizing what had cushioned his fall and took his toy into his maw. His gums clamped, eliciting another squeak from the toy and he smiled through a full mouth.
The room before him was not as dark as the previous hallway; it had several windows, light shining brightly through them. Tin walked forward, glancing around the room. The room had a hard wood floor with several chairs along the walls. A door was in between a pair of chairs, but shut tight. He did not bother with it; instead, Tin turned himself to the center of the room.
In the center there was a worn rug, looking aged and decrepit. There were pictures on the walls, pictures of ponies much larger than Tin. One pony in the picture had a white coat and a long, lustrous silver mane. She had a subdued and calming smile, looking forward with serene, cerise eyes. Beneath the picture read her name. He quirked his head, squinting at the squiggly lines beneath each picture, but had no idea what the lines meant.
Tin’s reverie was broken upon hearing a creak. Turning around, he saw a larger pony before him. The mare, looking back to the picture on the wall, matched the picture almost identically. She looked to Tin, confusion clear.
The pony’s voice was quiet and feminine. “How did you find yourself here, little one?” She asked, more to herself, not expecting an answer.
Tin blinked, trying to process the sounds he heard, but he was unable to discover their meaning. The mare started towards him, and Tin reeled back, unsure of the new pony. He bit down on his toy, finding the squeak to comfort him. The mare smiled to this action; the smile warmed Tin. He didn’t know why, but the mare comforted him, as did his toy. He stopped backpedaling, instead, moving closer to the mare.
The mare reached forward with one of her hooves, picking the foal up and cradling him. Her coat was soft, and Tin liked this feeling. He snuggled closer in her grasp, still not letting go of his precious toy. He closed his eyes, content with being held, and drifted off.
Tin’s eyes quickly bolted open, the soft coat pressed against him now gone. He looked around frantically, and he realized he was in a crib, a new crib, missing the broken bar. Looking up, he saw her again, smiling down upon him. He dropped his toy, whimpering toward her. She reached down with a hoof, patting down on his mane.
“Hush, little one. It is time to sleep,” she cooed, gently brushing back his mane.
Tin sat back onto his haunches, frowning and not willing to end his exploration. The mare chuckled, looking upon Tin with adoration. Soon enough, the brushing had Tin feeling drowsy. He lay onto his back, trying to fight off the lull of sleep.
The mare opened her mouth, soft notes of soothing song escaping her muzzle and reaching the ears of Tin.
“Sleep, my foal, and peace attend thee,
All through the night;
Dream, my foal, and Luna will free thee,
All through the night;
Soft the drowsy hours are creeping,
Hill and vale in slumber sleeping,
I my loving vigil keeping,
All through the night.”
Tin was fast asleep, clutching to his toy. A small smile tugged at his lips, for he was not alone tonight.
The old stallion chuckled to himself, remembering his beloved toy. The toy had comforted Tin on many days. It had been his friend through and through. It had never left his side, not that it could, nor would he let it. His chuckle soon faded, turning into a series of phlegm-filled coughs. He cleared his throat.
“Lungs aren’t what they used to be,” he told himself, shaking his head in frustration.
Tin’s expression changed, frustration fading as he smiled. His mind jumped, remembering the song. He remembered all of her songs. Each detail of all of the times she had sung had been locked into his mind. He had forgotten much of his past, but he would never allow himself to forget those songs.
Tin would never forget the silver-maned earth pony mare. He would never forget her words, nor her soothing tone or melody. He sighed, leaning back into his chair. A lone tear rolled down his cheek as he thought of her name.
“Lullaby…”
--0o0o0o0--
Several years had past since Tin’s first adventure. Tin had grown, no longer small, nearing the early years of adolescence. He had made many friends within the orphanage, and had many more adventures. The mare that had lulled him to sleep became a new figure to which he admired dearly; all of the foals loved her dearly. Nopony in the orphanage had ever felt unloved, lost, or sad while in her company.
Lullaby.
Tin felt comforted at the mere mention of her name. He smiled to himself, clutching his favorite toy as he woke. He set his toy down while he sat up in his bed. Tin had named his toy, Iron Vein, upon the insistence of Lullaby. She would not tell him why, but only that it was the name of someone very close to Tin. He shrugged to himself, long since giving up trying to find the original owner of the name. Slowly, he shambled out of bed.
Tin had plans today, plans for another adventure. Recently, Lullaby had been taking trips out into the city, sometimes leaving for hours at a time in the early morning. He was worried for Lullaby. She would never keep secrets from the foals at the Orphanage, but she had been avoiding any questions about her disappearances. Tin was determined to find out why. To him, there was no reason to keep secrets. They were all family.
Tin heard the sound from downstairs, the soft clip-clop of hooves on wood flooring. He knew who it would be, and it was time to move. Tin opened the door to his room, heading across the hall to another foal. It was early, the sun barely reaching through the windows of the Orphanage, so Tin knocked, as he was unsure whether anypony would be awake. The door slowly opened and a smaller teal unicorn filly met his eyes.
Her name was Aurora. Aurora had been at the orphanage since Tin had, and so they had both grown up together. She had become a close friend to Tin in their early years. She often followed him on his adventures, and the foals grew close with their shared curiosity for exploration. Both of them had taken notice to Lullaby’s disappearances in the early morning, and both had agreed to follow her.
Aurora was not expecting Tin this early, as such, her normally kempt, short-cut blue mane was untidy, hairs sticking in almost every direction. Their gaze met, her glare equaling that of a rudely awoken manticore. Clearly, she was not amused.
“Why did you wake me up?” she questioned, calmly, glare unfaltering.
Tin cleared his throat. “It’s Lullaby; She’s going out again.”
Aurora’s glare faltered, expression softening. She sighed, looking back into her room. “Fine. Just let me brush my mane.”
Tin shook his head. “She’s leaving now! We can’t wait.”
Aurora groaned inwardly, moving forward and closing the door behind her. She stepped closer to Tin while muttering a few choice words under her breath. She looked down the hall. “Alright, let’s go.”
The two foals nodded to one another and headed silently downstairs. Lullaby was not in the main lobby of the orphanage. Believing Lullaby to have already left, Aurora’s horn glowed as she wrapped her magic around the front door’s knob and unlocked it. Tin patted her on the back, impressed by her quick work of the lock. In turn, she smiled as both headed through the now-opened door.
It was still dim outside. Celestia’s sun was slowly rising, but the dull outline of Luna’s moon was still seen. The foals shivered as the air’s chill reached their coats. Both looked about, and the streets of Canterlot greeted them. Several well-designed, ornate homes and shops surrounded them. A small collection of ponies milled about at this time, but the streets were, for the most part, empty.
Tin and Aurora continued through the streets, looking for Lullaby. Most of Canterlot was unfamiliar to them, as they had been confined to the general vicinity of the orphanage. After a few moments, the foals spotted a familiar silver mane. Trotting closer to a better view, Tin and Aurora caught sight of Lullaby.
Lullaby’s head drooped, and her ears splayed back. She seemed anxious, walking at a brisk pace with her brow furrowed. Lullaby looked nervous. The two foals shared worried glances, looking upon her. This was not the Lullaby that they were accustomed to.
The foals followed her quietly. They did not have to hide, or stay unnoticed, as Lullaby did not pay any heed to what was behind her. Within minutes, Lullaby came to a large white building, a red cross atop the entrance. She headed to the door, slowly opening it with a sigh.
Tin and Aurora waited for a few short minutes, as they did not want to be seen by her. They cautiously walked toward the entrance, afraid of being seen. As they entered the building, the first things they noticed were the pristine floors, walls, and desks. All were painted white and were completely sterile. The ponies that sat along the wall did not follow this trend. Most were hunched over, looking pale and flustered. Others had hacking coughs, and none looked well.
The two foals hesitantly moved to the center desk, scanning around the room for any signs of Lullaby. She was not in the lobby.
A rather bored-looking pegasus stallion cleared his throat as the two approached the desk. He quirked his eyebrow at the small foals. “How may I help you two?”
Tin and Aurora looked between each other before Tin answered. “We’re wondering what this place is?”
“You don’t know?”
The foals shook their heads.
“It is a hospital. It’s for sick ponies,” he explained, casting a curious glance between the two.
Tin gulped, fearing the worst for Lullaby. Aurora smiled. “See! It can’t be too bad. The hospital will make her all better.”
Tin did not share the same enthusiasm, or positive outlook. “I’m not so sure...” Tin sighed, turning back toward the exit. “We might as well get back. We know where she’s been going, and we can ask her about it later.”
The foals headed back through the streets, quickly arriving at the orphanage. Aurora went back to her room, as she was ready to get back to sleep. Tin went to his own room.
He sat onto his bed, grabbing the toy set down next to him. Pulling the toy up, he gave it a hug, comforting himself in his fear for Lullaby. His breathing turned ragged and his toy became dampened with tears. Holding Iron Vein to his chest, he mumbled. “Please… be okay.”
After waiting for what seemed like an eternity to Tin, he heard the faint creaking of the front door. Tin quickly sprung up from his bed and moved downstairs, frantically looking for the one he cherished most.
Lullaby entered the orphanage, slowly closing the door behind her. Turning, she saw Tin and gave him a weak smile. She looked downtrodden, her smile faux. Her eyes had dark circles underneath them. Her once-silver mane now showed signs of grey. She looked weary and frail.
“I need to get some rest Tin… I’m sorry if you’ve been waiting for me all morning.”
Tin nodded and watched as she sluggishly shambled into her bedroom. His throat felt dry, and his heart rate increased. Tin feared the worst for Lullaby.
The night came quickly, as Tin had been too worried to pay attention in the day. He watched Lullaby constantly that day. He noticed that she seemed dazed. She appeared to be distracted, not giving her normal bright smile to all of those she cared for.
Tin’s worry increased as the foals were all put to sleep. Lullaby had always sung a wonderful melody or song to lull the orphans to sleep, but not tonight. Tonight, the ponies had felt alone.
Tin’s uneasiness grew, but all he could do was clutch to his toy, hoping for a brighter day.
