The door was heavy, opening it was not easy for a filly like me. I could feel the tense strain on my muscles. Those slop buckets were nothing compared to this door.

Behind the door was the answer to my question, and the answer was a room, but not just any room, it was a room unlike any I had been in before, which is to say, very few. This room wasn’t made of metal, but of wood like the acrobat towers. Never before had it been used for a structure like this. There was furniture, real furniture, the kind for you to put stuff on instead of just the kind to sit on. It was like a bench on top of another bench on top of another bench, with a wall on the back of those benches. It had things inside of it, little boxes without a few sides, too small for anything of real important to be placed inside. There were windows, yellow and black windows, covered in what I believe to be tar and ash. Then there was a chair, but not an ordinary chair, this one was fancy, like for somepony of value and power. It looked comfy, very comfy, and so, realizing my fate for being just in this room, I gave into the temptation. I walked to the other side of the chair, wanting to sit down on it, only to jolt back at the sight of a sleeping pony.

He was like the nurse, in that he had a partial mask. I could see the entire mouth on this one, with the star symbol placed on his forehead instead of on the traditional position of on the left cheekbone. I didn’t want to wake him, not just because he would most likely send me into exile, but because he looked peaceful. I could see scars on his face, much like the ones of #20429 from smiling. This pony had piercing holes along the edges of his visible face, they looked like that of the filly who burned to death in the fire not long ago. It had to be from the wire that kept the mask sewn to our face. I figured this one must have attempted to force his mask off, only to get so far. I looked down more, seeing as how he was shackled against the chair. I was shocked. I never thought that the star ponies would ever do this to their own, even those who fail are spared from death and exile only to be given another job, but yet this one is imprisoned here, seemingly.

I wanted to leave so badly, but curiosity is a passive desire. I tried my best to exit the room, pushing myself towards that metal door, but the more strength I used, the more it drained, and I was forced back near the chair. There wasn’t anything of interest in the room that I could delve into safely. I had never seen the world outside of our tent before, not even the train we would eventually transport on had windows for the cargo. I couldn’t reach the window on my own, so I tried to push one of the layered benches over to the window. It didn’t take much effort, though some of the box things fell out as I moved it. I used a few to gain a little more height so I could get to the top of the layered bench. It was very unstable with me climbing up it. It wobbled when I got on top, but I gained balance over it.

The window was heavily stained, obscuring my view of the outside, but not enough to see what was near. It was raining ash, large, the darkest of black, ash particles. They seemed to be hot, though not in any clear form of heat. The sun shined behind gray clouds, just like the sky. There were ruins of trees and buildings all around us. The trees were burnt to the stump. The buildings around varied from rubble to barely standing cement towers. What was structurally left intact of our society had been stained black on the outside, made of some kind of hard metal. The train had its own station, I couldn’t see exactly where, but its tracks darted out from a section restrained from my authorization. It all looked horrible, it was lifeless, how did we even survive, more importantly, how did we live?

I lost my balance and leaned just a little too far back on the layered shelf, causing it to fall down at the base of the chair. I landed at the side of the bench. The small boxes had spread out all over. I didn’t respond to the pain of the fall, though I felt it very well.

His eyes had opened when I looked back up. He didn’t struggle in his chains, nor looked shocked or confused or even angry, he looked pleased to see me. Neither said a word, though he should have, and I could not. He didn’t stare in some creepy way, but he kept looking at me. He wasn’t mad about the mess or that I had intruded, but he seemed saddened when I tried to leave again for a second time. I didn’t get very far, I know exactly how it is to feel lonely, even if I am always surrounded by other ponies. I don’t think he had anything, or anypony, I could change that.

I turned back towards him and looked at the chains that kept him so still. He could’ve been a murderer or a savior, but I didn’t know, even if he told me I shouldn’t trust his word. Still, I persisted to look for a way to release him, if it were possible, just in case something changed. There were no locks, no creases, it was like he had been built in with the chair.

“He-hello?” I was still unsure if he could speak. He gave no reply. “Why are you here?” I don’t know why I even asked. I gave him a few more questions, each went unanswered, and time came for me to return. The carnival wasn’t going to last all day. He kept on with his happy face, though saddened by my inevitable leave. Before I could get out he tried to get my attention one last time. He didn’t say anything, he mumbled though, or made some kind of noise and nodded towards a pile of those little box things. I picked one up for him and it fell apart in a way. It wasn’t all intact, slivers of it were unattached, but they had some kind of symbols on each surface. I turned each side back to how it was supposed to be and laid it on his lap. He didn’t like that. He leaned his head down and opened it with his face and just looked at it. I didn’t understand it at all, but I was out of time for questions.

When I got back out to #20429, he had finished sweeping the hay. He asked where I had been and I told him all that had happened. #20429 was impressed with me, as I had fearful of it entirely the day before. It was just another surprise for this day to hold. He was curious, just like me, and perhaps tomorrow I would take him with me, if possible, to the discovery.

There was still an hour or two left of the stage performances. They had moved onto the magic part of the show, the part I hated seeing the most. #20429 and I went back to the cage area again to be alone, friends in a world of enemies. It seemed we could talk forever, but mostly what we discussed now was about the room. I couldn’t describe it or the pony inside enough to satisfy him. He wasn’t smiling, but he was intrigued. I wanted to get off the subject, leave more mysteries to solve together, rather than assumptions, but he kept going towards his goal. It was nearing the end of the carnival, star ponies would be coming across this area soon, and I needed to get him to shut up. Though our masks covered majority of our faces, I could still do what I needed to do. I leaned over and looked into what was visible of his eyes, and moved closer. I gave him a kiss, one he took as passionate, but it wasn’t, not to me. He tasted of the cafeteria food, very unpleasant, but it made him shut up quickly. It was awkward afterwards, the bad kind of silence when nothing can be said. It was the one time I wanted a star pony to come across and tell us to get going. We went back to our beds and he kept looking back towards me for most of the night. I shouldn’t have done it, but I didn’t regret it at all.

Author's Note

This will probably be the last update for a while. It won't be on purpose, but I won't be writing tomorrow, and I will probably forget to write more. I apologize for the rushed ending.