—6 Years Later

Warm Care smiled happily as he made his way down the dirt streets of Ponyville, a positive skip in his slow gait. In his present mood, not even his creaky, arthritic hip could cause him grief. The pain it wrought upon him was nothing compared to the joy he felt.

There was a reason he enjoyed being the head administrator of the orphanage. Sure, it was strenuous work at some times, and most ponies would be put off by the number of foals one had to look after. However, no matter the hardship he endured while working there, it always did his old heart good to see a foal get adopted into a new, loving family.

While it was true that Ponyville didn't have as many orphans as some of the other, larger cities in Equestria—like Manehattan—Warm Care had made it his personal mission in life to try and get his orphanage as empty as possible. In his opinion, an empty orphanage was a happy orphanage, as it, hopefully, meant that every foal in Ponyville had a family to care for them.

That dream had come even closer to becoming a reality today, what with the little pink filly that had just been adopted into the Rich family. The new father, Filthy, seemed like a nice stallion, and his wife was simply overjoyed to have a filly to love. It was a shame that the mare was barren, but, hopefully they would be able to give the young foal a good home and spoil her rotten, even if she wasn't their own.

Warm Care chuckled at that thought, Spoiled rotten. It was a fate that he secretly wished upon all the orphans under his care. If they were spoiled rotten, then that meant that they were in a good family, one that cared for them dearly.

Trotting slowly through the marketplace, Warm Care greeted everypony with a smile. The bakermare, a blue earth pony with two-tone pink mane, waved to him through the open window of her bakery, the smell of baked goods filling the air.

Warm Care returned her wave with one of his own. She was always so kind, donating any extra sweets she made the previous week to the orphanage. They were always delicious, and the foals loved the sugary treats. Because of that reason, Warm Care always made sure that he had time for her should she ever want to talk. She would even visit the orphanage regularly, doting over the foals.

As the bakermare returned to her baking, Warm Care continued to make his way through the marketplace. Far off in Canterlot, the Bells of Reverence tolled out loud and clear, signally the midday hour. Their song, carried softly on the breeze, was heard by all the surrounding countryside.

Reaching the middle of the marketplace, the old stallion directed his attention to one of the vendors positioned in front of the fountain. Smiling at the stallion standing beside the apple-covered stand, Warm Care nodded his head in greeting. “Good day, Jonagold.”

“Mr. Care,” the stallion said in a thick southern accent, tipping his Stetson hat in response as a warm smile touched his face.

Like most stallions born to the Apple Family, Jonagold Apple was a large, healthy earth pony. True to his namesake, he had a yellow-green coat that slowly blended into reddish-orange near his hooves. His golden mane hung low in front of his eyes, long sideburns framing his cheeks. His cutie mark—an apple with a large bite taken out of it—rested upon his muscular flank, toned from a lifetime of bucking apple trees. Like always, a long stalk of hay hung from his mouth, bobbing whenever he spoke.

Although a massive stallion compared to the other residents of Ponyville, the apple farmer was well known for his gentle and caring nature. It was not odd to see him helping out around town, whistling a happy tone as he worked. Everypony knew that Sanguinelli Orange had made a good catch with Jonagold Apple, even if they weren’t sure how.

“What kin ah do for you today, Mr. Care?” Jonagold asked a twinkle in his green eyes as he smiled at the old stallion.

“I find myself in need of some apples,” Warm Care said with a chuckle. “It appears that the foals love them a bit too much. It seems like I barely get the bushels into the kitchen before they all but swarm the bags. I even have reason to believe that a few brave souls snuck out of their rooms last night to raid the last few apples we had. That is, if the tummy aches this morning were anything to go by.” At Warm Care’s words, Jonagold roared with laughter, causing a few nearby ponies to glance over at them curiously.

“Ah’ll take that as a compliment, Mr. Care,” he said, his grin growing across his face. “Glad tah see that them foals like eatin’ their fruit.”

“Indeed,” Warm Care said with a nod. “I like to make sure that their diets are fairly balanced. Your apples help counter Ms. Cake’s sweets.”

“Aye, that mare does know her desserts,” Jonagold agreed. “The things she can make with our apples, shoot, ah half expect her tah be a distant cousin of the Apples. But enough with that, Mr. Care. You didn’t come here tah listen to me talk all day. You came tah buy apples!”

“I guess you’re right, Jonagold,” Warm Care laughed. “If you happen to have them, I’d like 3 pecks of gala apples.”

“Ah, you’re in luck, Mr. Care,” Jonagold said with a grin. “We just bucked some fresh ones the other day.” As the farmer started to bag Warm Care’s order, the old stallion took a moment to look around the market.

Many ponies were out and about, taking advantage of the nice weather and enjoying the warm summer day. Celestia’s sun, hanging high in the sky, shone down upon the land, providing heat and light. Patches of white clouds dotted the blue sky, providing shade to those ponies on the ground and a resting place for the pegasi in the air to roost upon.

Warm Care couldn’t help the smile that spread across his muzzle as he watched a father chase his colt through the marketplace, each laughing as they weaved through the other ponies. There were so many happy ponies living within the small village, and it made the old stallion positive that moving here from Manehattan had been the best decision he could have made in his life. The atmosphere was perfect, the ponies kind and friendly.

That and the large city had held too many bad memories for the old stallion. There was a reason, after all, that he had opened an orphanage here in Ponyville upon his arrival nearly twenty years ago.

“Here ya are,” Jonagold said suddenly, breaking Warm Care out of his daze. Placing three large bags upon the stand, the large earth pony smiled at the elderly stallion. “Three pecks o’ gala apples. Will that be all for you today, Mr. Care?”

“Ah, yes. Thank you,” Warm Care said, blinking in surprise. Smiling, he took the bags in his teeth and placed them on the ground beside him before turning back to the farmer.

“How much do I owe you, Jonagold?” he asked, reaching a hoof back to his saddlebag.

The farmer just held up his hoof and shook his head, a small smirk on his face. “As ah’ve told ya before, Mr. Care, you’re bits ain’t good here.”

“We’ve been over this before, Jonagold,” Warm Care said, frowning slightly. “This is your livelihood. You make a living off these apples. I can’t just take them for free. I insist you let me pay!”

“And as ah’ve told you over and over again, makin’ them foals back at your orphanage happy is the only pay ah need,” the farmer replied, a stubborn look in his eyes. “Family is an important part of anypony’s life, and it’s a shame that those foals ain’t got one. If eatin’ my apples puts a smile on their faces, then the least ah can do is give ‘em some apples to enjoy!

“That, and Nelli would never let me live it down if I took money from ya,” Jonagold chuckled, shaking his head. “She’d have me sleepin’ on that couch for weeks.”

“You and your talk of family,” Warm Care said with a soft laugh. “You took what your mother taught you to heart, didn’t you?”

“Family is important, no matter who ya are,” Jonagold said, nodding his head sagely.

“Ya, family’s important!” a loud voice shouted from behind Warm Care. Turning, the old stallion smiled in amusement as an orange filly raced past him and leapt up, grabbing a hold of Jonagold around his neck. Dried mud caked the filly’s hooves, splattering up her legs and across the underside of her belly. As the filly nuzzled the stallion happily, Jonagold glanced down, a look of surprise on his face.

“Applejack, did ya escape from your mother again?” he asked the blonde-maned filly, laughing softly as he returned the nuzzle.

“No, she said ah could come visit you!” the filly said quickly, her ears splaying back and her eyes darting to the side.

“Applejack,” Jonagold scolded as he looked down at the filly clinging to him, a disappointed look on his face. “Don’t lie. Good ponies don’t lie, and us Apples are good ponies, understand?”

The filly hung her head in shame.

“Sorry, pa,” she mumbled, releasing her hold on the farmer’s neck and dropping down to the ground. She stood there, scuffing at the dirt with her hoof. “Ah just didn’t want tah take a bath,” she grumbled under her breath.

“Ah figured that was the reason,” Jonagold laughed, lowering his head to nuzzle the top of the filly’s head. “Run along back home tah your mother, little apple. Ah’m sure she’s worried sick about where you are—” Jonagold lifted his head, scrunching up his nose comically “—and by the smell of it, y’all could really use that there bath. Now, go on, git! Ah’ll be along home once your brother gets outta school.”

“Yes, pa.” With that, the little filly turned and raced off back down the road, weaving through the sea of ponies.

“Sorry about that,” Jonagold said, turning back to Warm Care. “You know how them young’uns are.”

“It’s quite alright,” Warm Care reassured the stallion. “I’ve had my fair share of chasing a foal or two down during bathtime. It surprising how fast they can be when they want to, considering we practically have to drag them along anywhere. Although, nowadays I have to get my assistant to do the chasing. These old bones aren’t as quick as they once were.”

“You do yourself an injustice, Mr. Care,” Jonagold said with a smirk. “You could still give mah ma a run for her bits.”

“Yeah, well, I’m confident your mother is going to outlive us all,” Warm Care laughed. “We’ll all be in the earth and she’ll be sitting up here in that rocking chair of hers, wondering why no work is getting done.”

“Ah’ll take you up on that bet,” Jonagold said with a grin.

“I’m sure you will.” Clearing his throat, Warm Care nodded his head towards the farmer.

“Thank you for the apples, Jonagold. I’m sure the foals will enjoy them immensely, but only if I get them back to the orphanage. So, if you’d excuse me, I really must be going.” Leaning down, the old stallion grabbed the handle of all three bags in his mouth. Lifting his head, Warm Care flashed the farmer one last smile before turning and trotting off.

“Y’all have a good day now, ya hear?” Jonagold called after the retreating stallion. Warm Care flicked his ear, indicating he heard, but continued his journey back through town. As the old stallion walked, he smiled through the bags in his teeth. I’ll have to remember to slip some extra bits into the donation jar during cider season when Jonagold isn’t looking.

By the time Warm Care arrived back at the orphanage, his jaw felt like it was about to fall off. Staggering into the kitchen, the elderly stallion dropped the bags of apples onto the counter before massaging his sore jaw, frowning slightly. While not vain, it always bothered Warm Care when his body reminded him of his age. He already knew he was getting old, it didn’t need to be rubbed in his face.

Exiting the kitchen, Warm Care glanced around the dining area. It was completely empty; not a soul in sight. With how nice it was outside, he was fairly certain that most—if not all—of the foals were probably out at the local playground, enjoying the weather.

Trotting slowly due to his stiff limbs, the old caretaker moved around the room, opening the windows in order to get some fresh air into the old building. Clearing the remnants of lunch off of one of the tables—some plates, empty cups, and orange peels—Warm Care carried them to the kitchen and put them in their respective places. Once that was done, he returned to the main hall.

It was still early in the afternoon, and according to the large grandfather clock in the hall, he still had a few hours until the foals returned home for dinner. With his assistant probably out making sure the little ones didn’t get into too much trouble, Warm Care decided that he would make the best of this brief moment of peace, and pick up around the orphanage.

Moving slowly from room to room, the old stallion began to clean each room carefully. Toys left lying around in the open had to be picked up, books had to be reshelved, and art supplies had to be returned to their cabinets. After making sure he had taken care of most of the debris, Warm Care would crack the window of the room open, and then move on to the next one.

For the next few hours he was quite content to make beds, dust shelves, and sweep the floors, all while humming softly to himself. During their play, the foals had made a mess in almost every room in the orphanage, but the old stallion didn’t mind. Cleaning up after them allowed him to feel like he was doing something productive, like he still had a purpose at the orphanage.

There were a lot of ponies around Ponyville that had voiced their concerns about Warm Care’s age. They insisted that he pass on ownership of the orphanage to a younger set of hooves and retire, find a nice home by the sea, and live out the rest of his days in peace and comfort. Warm Care would always reply the same with each new attempt. He would just smile and shake his head.

“I will continue to help these foals find families,” he would tell them, “until such time as Death herself comes and greets me like an old friend. Only then shall I rest my weary soul.”

Being the second oldest pony in Ponyville, some thought that his dedication to his orphanage was born from his mind having left his body. That was simply not true. Warm Care’s mind was still as sharp as it had been in his prime. It was his body that had left his mind behind. He would often joke that he was a young colt in an old stallion’s body, but that didn’t stop him from trying to help the foals that were placed under his care. There were even days that one could find him down at the beach with the foals, splashing in the shallows.

His constant interactions with the foals always brought smiles to their young faces, and that was more than enough for the old, wizened stallion.

Warm Care had just about finished up cleaning the orphanage when he came across a closed bedroom door at the far end of the living quarters. Pausing in front of it, the old stallion stared at the door, a small frown touching his face. Somepony, one of the foals no doubt, had taped a piece of paper on the door that read ‘Keep Out. Dark Within’.

Staring at the door, Warm Care chewed on the inside of his cheek as he racked his most recent memories.

“I didn’t close you,” he muttered to the door, scrunching up his face in confusion. Warm Care had left the doors open to every room he cleaned, yet this one was closed. And it had a sign on it.

Scratching his head with a hoof, Warm Care continued to stare at the door for several seconds before reaching out and turning the door handle. As the door swung open, the old stallion blinked in surprise before shaking his head and sighing, “Oh, Selena.”

The bedroom on the other side of the door was almost pitch black, the lights turned off and the window shades drawn tight. Even the light streaming in from the hall seemed to have trouble cutting through the darkness. Through the gloom, Warm Care’s withered, old eyes could just barely pick out the form of a young filly sitting on the bed, a blanket pulled over her head.

At the sound of Warm Care’s sigh, the blankets moved as the pony beneath them turned their head towards the open door, but remained silent.

Reaching out a hoof, Warm Care ran it over the inside wall of the room, searching for the light switch. Finding it, he flicked the switch to the ‘on’ position, causing the room to become illuminated.

“What have I told you about sitting in the dark alone?” Warm Care asked the filly, frowning slightly. Selena just blinked her milky eyes, staring at a point just above the old caretaker’s left ear. Locks of her dark blue mane protruded out from under the blanket and hung down in front of her sightless eyes.

“I didn’t think it really mattered,” the young filly said, her voice soft, but still holding the cute little slur of filly speak. “It’s not like I can’t read if the lights are off.” Not turning her head, the unicorn filly continued to run her hoof over the book that lay open in front of her, the pad of her hoof gently tracing the small bumps that covered the page.

“I will never understand your fascination with the dark,” Warm Care tsked, a small smile touching his whitened muzzle as he walked into the room. “Even as a foal, you seemed to be more active during the night time than in the day. It was like you were part bat or something.”

“It’s kinda hard for me to tell what time of day it is, Care,” Selena said.

Warm Care winced as she used his formal name. He had tried to get her to call him ‘Warmy’ like all the other foals, but she persisted stubbornly.

Turning the page of her book, Selena’s head slowly followed the old stallion as he moved around the room, her blind eyes always fixed on a point just above his head.

“You all have your eyes to go by,” she said as he drew nearer. “I have to use my own biological clock, and hope that it’s accurate.”

“Biological clock?” Warm Care said, his eyes narrowing. “You’ve been getting into those adult books again, haven’t you?” Selena’s ears splayed backwards, her head lowering.

“Maybe,” she muttered under her breath.

“Those books are too advanced for you, Selena,” Warm Care sighed, shaking his head as he laughed softly. “I got them for when you get a little older. You’re just a little filly right now. You’re supposed to be reading little filly books.” Selena’s eyes narrowed, and she growled softly.

“...they’re stupid and too easy.” In a whisper, so that Care couldn’t hear her, she added, “and the other foals take them and hide them from me.”

“They wouldn’t be so easy for you if you didn’t spend all your time reading,” Warm Care chuckled. “For somepony who can’t see, you sure do go through those books quickly enough.”

“Books take you places,” Selena said softly, stroking the page of the book in front of her lightly with her hoof. “They tell you stories, teach you things.” As she spoke, the young filly’s voice slowly became quieter, till Warm Care could barely hear her. He strained his ears, leaning in closer to the filly to catch what she was mumbling. “Books don’t judge you…”

Leaning back, Warm Care frowned as he eyed the filly, concern in his old eyes. Although her ears were hidden, the old stallion could tell by her posture that she was hiding something, something that was bothering her.

“Selena,” he said softly, causing the young unicorn to flinch. “Selena,” he repeated, moving to sit on the bed beside the filly. “What’s wrong? And for that matter, why are you in here instead of outside playing with the other foals? It’s such a beautiful day outside, yet you’re hiding in this stuffy room.”

Selena said nothing, lowering her head to hide her face behind her mane and blanket.

“Were the other foals teasing you again?” the old stallion asked softly, a frown touching his face.

Selena was still for a moment before slowly nodding her head, keeping her face hidden behind her blanket shroud. Warm Care draped his foreleg over the filly’s shoulder, pulling her against his side. “Oh, little one. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“...didn’t want to cause trouble,” came the muffled reply.

“Selena,” Warm Care scolded softly. “If the other foals are teasing you, you have to let me know. They shouldn’t be doing that. It’s not right, and it’s not fair to you.” The filly remained silent, her head hanging low.

Warm Care sighed and closed his eyes. It wasn’t often that he had to deal with the foals under his care picking on one another, but for whatever reason, Selena had it worse than the others. If the other orphans weren’t picking on her for being blind, they were teasing her about her looks, or about how much she read. Warm Care tried to put a stop to it whenever he could, but he could rarely catch the culprits in the act.

It had started when she was just an infant. The other foals would always seem to cry around her, to the point where Warm Care had to put her in a separate room altogether. Even then, the other foals didn’t seem to be able to sleep peacefully when Selena was nearby.

As she grew, the other orphans always seemed uneasy around her. Warm Care had thought at first that it was because she was blind, but that didn’t seem to be the case. The old stallion didn’t know what it was about the filly that caused the others to dislike her, but he knew that because of it, she didn’t have any real friends. That was also the reason she immersed herself in any and all braille books Warm Care could find.

Holding Selena closer to his side, Warm Care spoke in a quiet voice, “What were they teasing you about this time?”

“...’m cutie mark,” Selena mumbled. Warm Care winced, cursing inwardly. Of course they’d go after that particular subject.

The old stallion knew that Selena was sensitive about her cutie mark. She had been ever since she was old enough to understand what a cutie mark was. The fact that she couldn’t even remember why or how she had gotten hers was more than enough for the other foals to torment her.

Especially considering her cutie mark tended to glow in dark areas.

Reaching down slowly, Warm Care lifted the blankets that surrounded Selena’s body slightly, revealing her flank. There, glowing softly beneath the sheets, the crescent moon shone back at him. The old stallion stared at it for several seconds before lowering the edge of the blanket back down.

“And what were they saying about your cutie mark?” he asked her softly.

“That fillies my age shouldn’t have their cutie marks yet, and since I couldn’t even tell them how I got it, they said it had to be fake.”

“Well,” Warm Care began, rubbing the young unicorn’s head through the blanket. “I’m not entirely sure what your cutie mark represents about you. For all we know, you’re going to be a great moonwatcher when you grow up.”

“But, I can’t see—”

“But I can tell you this,” Warm Care said forcibly, interrupting the filly. “That cutie mark of yours is one-hundred percent real, and don’t let anypony tell you otherwise.”

“But—”

“No buts,” Warm Care said, standing up from the bed. “I can guarantee that that cutie mark of yours is the real deal. That’s your cutie mark, and you’re stuck with it. Truthfully, it’s one of the more unique cutie marks I’ve ever seen. That by itself should make you proud. It’s not some silly cutie mark like a flower or an hourglass. Nopony has a cutie mark of a moon—a glowing moon, in fact—on their flank, except for you!”

“...don’t even know what it really looks like,” Selena grumbled as she lowered her book back to the bed. “Probably looks stupid.”

“Don’t let a couple of bullies get to you,” Warm Care said with a smile. “That’s how they win. Just smile and ignore them. There are still other foals out there willing to be your friend. All you have to do is find and talk with them. You do that, and you’ll have friends who like you for who you are in no time!”

Selena cocked her head to the side, her nose scrunching up in a cute manner. “Are you sure? I’ve tried talking with the others, but no pony wants to be friends with me. They just tend to avoid me.”

Warm Care opened his mouth to reply, but the sound of the front door opening, and the stampede of little hooves, interrupted him. Glancing out at the hallway, Warm Care shook his head and sighed.

“Looks like I have to go get dinner ready,” he chuckled, turning back to the young filly on the bed. “We’ll continue this talk later, okay?” Selena nodded her head, returning to running her hoof across the page of her book with a small sigh.

As Warm Care left the room and headed down the hall, Selena lifted her head, turning it so that her milky eyes were staring at the open door. She kept her sightless gaze on the door for several seconds before moving it back to the book in front of her. She slowly emerged herself back into the fantasy world it provided.

After a few minutes, the sound of approaching hoofsteps caused her ears to perk up. The steps were light, too soft to be Care or Merriweather’s. That had to mean that it was one of the other orphans. Keeping her head down, Selena cocked an ear, listening closely to the noise coming from the hall.

Soon enough, the hoofsteps came to a stop just outside of the room. Selena’s ears twitched once as a low sigh came from whoever was standing there. She winced, recognizing the owner right away from the noise. There was only one filly in the orphanage that sighed like that.

“H-hi, Honeysuckle,” Selena called out lamely, turning her head towards the door ever so slightly. She winced again as she remembered that most of the orphans hated the fact that she could tell who they were based off their breathing. It unsettled them and made them dislike her more.

Sure enough, the presence she identified as Honeysuckle huffed loudly.

Standing in the doorway, an annoyed look on her face, was a young filly. She was roughly the same age as Selena, but due to her earth pony blood, stood nearly a head taller than the unicorn. Her coat was a shocking yellow, contrasted by a short, black mane. She glared at Selena, who, even though she was blind, could still feel the venom behind the stare.

Swallowing thickly, Selena folded her ears against her head.

“Do… do you need something?” she asked, her voice cracking slightly.

“Yeah,” Honeysuckle said bluntly, causing Selena to cringe beneath her blanks.

“Um… w-what do you—”

“Warmy said to come down for dinner,” Honeysuckle interrupted, her eyes narrowing. “So, get moving, No-Eyes.” With that, she turned and, with a flick of her tail, walked off down the hall, leaving Selena to herself.

Selena frowned, listening to the retreating sound of the filly’s hoofsteps. Her throat felt a little tight, and she was having trouble swallowing. Blinking her sightless eyes, she lowered her head.

“Finding friends. Yeah, right,” the dark filly muttered under her breath. “I don’t need friends.” She returned to brushing her hoof against the page of the book, feeling the tiny bumps that made up the words. She knew dinner was ready, she could faintly smell the aroma drifting down the hall from the kitchen. It smelled like Merriweather had made her special cream of broccoli soup.

Selena’s stomach growled, but she ignored it. She’d rather sneak down to the kitchens later to pick through the scraps than eat by herself while the others flicked pieces of food at her. Maybe if she was lucky, Care would bring her food to her again. She wouldn’t have to leave the comfort of her room if that happened. At least, until she had to go to the bathroom. She always tried to hold it until the others were asleep. That way she wouldn’t bump into any of them on her way to and from the bathroom.

Of course, there was always the rare instances when she’d bump into another orphan in the darkened halls. They would be going to get a drink of water at the same time that she was wandering. She always tried to hide when that happened, but her glowing cutie mark always gave her away.

Yes, when it came right down to it, her room was the best place for her to be. Where it was just her and her books. Her books of fairy tales and fables, where the princess was always rescued, and everypony always got a happy ending.

As Selena continued to ‘read’, her hoof started to come across damp spots on the dried page. She paused, blinking in confusion before continuing on, ignoring the spots. After several seconds, a soft dripping sound reached her ears. Lifting a hoof slowly to her face, Selena gasped softly as she realized her cheeks were wet. Tears flowed from her eyes, running down her face until they dripped off of her chin onto the page below.

Lowering her hoof, the young filly let the tears flow, unwilling to stop them.

“...nopony is ever going to like me,” she sniffled, the tears coming on stronger now. Reaching up, she pulled her blankets down further over her head, hiding herself from the harsh light shining from the fixture hanging from the ceiling. Unlike the darkness, the light couldn’t hide her. Everyone could see her for what she was: a blind freak.

She could hear the other foals, laughing and shouting at one another as they headed towards the dining room. The sound of their joy tugged at her heart, causing her to cry harder. Slowly, the shadows of the room seemed to grow, inching closer and closer to the filly, hidden beneath her blankets sanctuary.

“...nopony will ever love me.”