The cloaked pony ran through the misty night, his hood shading his face in the moonlight. He ran quickly through the deserted town, stopping only shortly to regain his breath. He had been running for hours, at this stop and go pace all night. Sitting by an abandoned alley way, he took a moment to glance at his blood stained hooves. Well, that wouldn’t do, he’d leave bloody hoofprints everywhere. Somepony might think he killed somepony, now, wouldn’t they?

Walking to a water barrel by him, he soaked his hooves, letting the blood wash off. “Regenerations…” He muttered under his breath. “Why must I always end up bloody?”

He took off his blood stained cloak, dropping it in the alley way, and looked at his reflection in the water. He had rather short hair, and a grey-brown coat. His eyes were a light yellow green, and shone with wisdom beyond his years. “Hmm,” he said to himself, thinking. “What to call myself this time? Flight Phase doesn’t quite work now that I’m an earth pony.  Ugh, and my mane is brown now, I liked the ginger.”

He moved away from the barrel, thinking. “Well, Flight Phase is out. Think, what do you like? Names are important. As is a family, I need to find a family. This is all so troublesome.”

He had his head down, and didn’t watch where he was going. Therefore, he did not notice the dark coated filly until he ran into her, knocking her down.

He stumbled back from the girl, surprised. “O-oh, my, I’m very sorry miss,” he managed to say.

The little filly rubbed her head, standing up. On her face was the sweetest smile, partially covered up by her raven black mane with purple swirls. “S-sorry, Mister,” she said, giggling. “Guess I need to watch my step.”

The man looked her over, and found he was actually somewhat worried about the girl. She was wandering this dark town alone, and who knew what could happen to her at such a young and innocent age. “Here, where do you live? I can walk you home, miss.” He figured he should offer, at the very least.

The young girl looked at him for a few moments, and he was surprised to see tears form in her amethyst eyes. “R-r-really sir?” She wiped away her tears, sniffling. “I-I would like that a-a lot… I-I’m really v-very scared of the dark…”

The man didn’t know quite how to react. He had never had children of his own, and had never been good with tears. However, this was a special occasion. He smiled lightly and took her hoof. “There, there miss,” he said lightly. “No need for tears this night. Now, why don’t you lead me to your home?”

The girl nodded, her tears ending as he held her hoof comfortingly. “A-alright, mister…”

Slowly they began walking through the town. Eventually, the filly got tired, so the man put her on his back and kept walking as she muttered directions to him under her breath.

After nearly an hour of searching, he finally brought the filly down an alleyway, leading to a small hole – in – the – wall sort of place. She hopped out of his short, rugged mane and unlocked the door. Inside was a rather pitiful living space – a small cot, a moth bitten sofa and a small fridge that hummed with light electricity. On the sofa sat a rather large number of bills, all of which seems to say ‘late’ on the top. Scattered in the pile were small paychecks, and below the stack there seemed to be a small, stained apron.

The girl sleepily walked to the cot and fell down on it, nearly asleep. The man looked around and sat on the half of the couch not covered. “Miss, where are your parents?”

The girl shook her head lightly. “Don’t got any. Mommy died when she had me, and daddy… Daddy left awhile back…”

The man sat for awhile, mulling this over. This poor little girl had nopony to help her, and, by the looks of those bills, she did need someponies help. He did need a family, somepony to call friend. “… Miss, may I stay the night? I want to make sure you’re safe.”

The filly smiled. “Thank you, mister. My name is Mistearia, by the way.”

The man smiled back at the little filly, and felt a warm surge of affection for this innocent little girl. He wanted to make sure she would never be hurt again.

He looked around, the girl almost asleep once again, and his eyes rested on a book. The title read the classic fairy tale line, “Once Upon A Time”. He walks over and opened it, revealing a large collection of fairy tales.

Mistearia glanced at him, her eyes alight with that childish wonder. “Will you read me a story, mister… um, what’s your name?”

He smiled and sat by her, flipping the page to the first story, and suddenly he knew what his name would be.

“My name, dear Mistearia, is Page Turner. Now… Once upon a time, in a land far, far away…”

Through the night he read to her, her eyes slowly drooping as he went from story to story. His voice spoke volumes, going from a high crescendo as a prince fought a dragon for his true love, to a soft whisper for the princes death, and a cheerful, happy tone as the prince was brought back through true loves kiss. Slowly but surely, the young Mistearia let her eyes flutter shut, and soon Page heard soft, steady breaths coming from her.

Lightly placing a piece of paper in the page to hold their place, he shut the book and laid it by her bed. He had never seen a girl so beautifully innocent. He hated to admit it, but this young girl had melted his heart, and he knew deep down that he loved her.

Standing, he heard a small mutter from the girl. “Page… will you be my new daddy until my real one comes back,” she asked, her eyes still shut and on the very edge of sleep.

Page felt tears rise to his eyes, and he wasn’t all together sure why. It was a simple enough question. “Y-yes, Mistearia. I will be your father.” As he said this, he made a vow to himself to always protect her, and love her with all his heart.

How could he have known how much he hurt her in the end?

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