#74
Winter. Day 75. Evening. Clackerton

I am still a bit troubled by the revelation of my mother's existence. Though she is immortal, it is a limited thing. Her illness a testament to that. She's been careful not to become gravely wounded. Tells me that she has gone by several different names before, but she's never forgotten her original name of Honey Bee. It is also unfortunate that she cannot remember anything before they essentially split her in two. Still, I question if she may have actually have been an alicorn before then. Then I wonder about her other half and how much time is left before it winds up finding her. A question without an answer.

Mother entrusts me with the lockbox for a good reason, its key and the pocket watch too. I've yet to figure out how to open up either. Perhaps I'll have to take them to Prudence when I get the time, or Twilight. The two of them may be able to figure something out. I am unsure what I should send to Celestia and Twilight. To reveal the fact that my mother has lived this long to anypony is troublesome. Results could place Clackerton in danger. Aside from those facts, I've sent the rest of the translations except for the last two parts of the poem.

The reality of the situation is slowly settling in and I'm not entire sure what to make of it. I've contemplated countless hours of the matter already, where Apricot stepping into the study frightened me. Boards became cannons and breaths became gusts. She pulled me away from that and I thanked her for it. I guess my sister's habit of immersive study rubbed off on me a bit.

#75
Winter. Day 76. Evening. Clackerton

I've received a letter from Idol Find today. Busy had given it to me after I was done with my shift. I was quite surprised, to say the least. We're good friends, still are. We started writing each other a bit after he moved to Manehatten, a move he was anxious about but he adjusted well. Told me that he got caught up in celebrity managements. Finding talents for well known record labels and movie studios. It was because of that, that the letters eventually ceased.

I remember his personality well. Always a bit outspoken, one to be looked up to. But at some points, I thought he looked up to me. Never said much about his nobility and family, guess he preferred to keep that a secret. His speech was something else, made long words sound like one syllable. However, when he would make a claim, he could back it up easily. Still, he did not flaunt his nobility, which I was, still am, happy about.

He had an unusual coat pattern though. An odd mixture of sequin, eyes too, and an incredibly dark green, white freckles. Mane and tail matched those pale dots that crossed his face. However, his eyes always had this look of old age due to an odd illness that's afflicted him his entire life. Affected his magic too, unfortunately.

Aside from stating a few of his successes, he wanted me to meet some beautiful mare that he'd come across in Manehatten. Apparently a mare so beautiful that it left his heart aflutter and his mind dumbfounded. He didn't want to spoil a name but from his frantic writing of her beauty, he really wanted me to meet her. I have a good guess as to who it is already, Rarity. She told me a bit about their relationship with one another during my rather extended stay in Ponyville.

In accordance with the letter, Busy gave me two weeks off to visit Idol. Which, oddly, seemed rather specific.

Apart from all that, I decided on naming my pet eagle Yukon after all. Even got a band with his name on it to put on his leg.

#76
Winter. Day 78. Noon. Manehatten Train Station

Made it out to Manehatten. Couldn't write much on the train ride here, gave me a headache. But I did manage quite a bit of sleep, as did Yukon. I brought with me my locket and saddlebag. Apricot said she wanted to come along as well, but her family called for a reunion, she was helping to organize it. Although Gold Arrow Mk. I was finished and I could use it, I opted not to use it for this trip as I wanted to use it for work-related things. And this was not.

On the train ride over, I couldn't help but notice a pony that bore a strong resemblance to Rarity. They wore a light green bonnet, sunglasses, and a light blue shirt. I would've liked to have asked, but I didn't want to make myself look like a fool either. So I receded the thought.

After getting off the train here at Manehatten, I saw that it was far busier than Canterlot's. Thankfully, Idol had also provided a map with his letter, though crudely drawn, marked that path from the train station to his home. A suite to an apartment complex. He crudely written the names of the streets too. I almost had to ask what street he was on.

#77
Winter. Day 78. Evening. Manehatten. Gemini Towers

I walked by many stores on my way to Idol's. Jewelry stores alight with gold and silver, being as luxurious as possible. Placing all their stones in carefully crafted bezels and hoops. Another store selling paintings and canvases larger than doors. Abstract, surreal, and landscapes of all kinds. There were a lot more stores that were just focused on just selling specific sets of clothes. A few for the noble and rich, more for the simple and poor. All in all, a majority of the stores appeared to have a limited amount of space to work in, unless they were more vertically inclined.

When I got to the towers, it was pretty clear that this building was newer than the ones that surrounded it. The postcard Idol sent of the building didn't quite capture its elegance in full. Blue glass and rows of silver stripes climbed up the sides of the tower. Trying to see where they ended, could strain ones neck. Before one would enter the building, there was a small drive in which visitors or residents could have their vehicles parked in a lot further down the road by valet members. Although, vehicles here, seemed incredibly rare still. Even odder, were the several landings pads that branched out further up the tower, for pegasi or small flight craft I assume. Whoever designed it, purposed it for future inventions and they did a good job of that. To stay true to its name, a bridge connected an identical tower on the opposite side of the street.

Upon entering the towers through glass doors clear as day, a fitting gold plaque to the pedestal of a small statue of the towers sat before a red rug leading to the front desk. The rug with its gold trim, was flanked by tall well-trimmed evergreens potted in red clay. The lobby stretched its ceiling past at least three floors. The first floor alone had a bank, coffee shop, and a restaurant. Needless to say, these towers are suited for more than just living.

I gave Idol's name to the mare behind the front desk and she gave me the room number and directions. Telling me take something called an elevator. Something that they were a bit uneasy about when they were initially installed. I imagine taking the stairs to the top would be a pain. I put my trust in that metal box though, despite its uneasy shift when it began to move. Each floor became partially revealed by the metal gate that only opened once stopped at an appropriate floor. Still I wonder how a contraption works. My guess would be some sort of pulley system.

Yukon didn't seem all that bothered by it either, but I think he was sound asleep in my bag. I could feel him shift around in there to get comfortable again whenever he woke up. I looked at the paper again, nudging him aside, to see the room number and floor. The 39th floor and room 3939. I smirked as I remembered his favorite pet to keep, cats and those two numbers were also his favorite.

When the elevator stopped, the ironworked gates slid into the elevator walls to hide. Upon exiting, I was met with a wall, numbers lead by arrowheads pointing out sets of rooms. I followed the straightforward hall of off white and glass until I came upon his room. Every entrance to the room was the same, insert for something oddly flat just above their knobs. A button, softly illuminated by an orange light was planted in the wall just beside the frames. I pressed the button down softly, followed by a muffled chime from the other side.

A moment of silence, then a moment of a slide and the light rattle of a chain. And with the pull of the door, his face once more. “Idol.” I said.

“Ah, Letter. It's been quite some time hasn't it. Come on in.” I did so, he closed the door behind me. “excuse the mess, I haven't had much time to prepare. Living without a butler has well, changed my habits. Having somepony do something for you all the time is such a nice privilege that you can forget that you yourself have to do it now.” He flicked his magic to set things right in the living room and kitchen. Placing books upon shelves, a floor lamp upright, tossing some old papers into a bin, and tidying the table. His magic was a sky blue, the wisps that I saw about him seemed limp and decayed. I think in part to his illness.

I thought the entire apartment fit for at least three and while I gazed at the window he had taped a few papers to, I said, “You've been busy I take it?”

“Quite. If you like, I can take your bags for you.”

“It's fine.”

“All right, I won't hassle you about it. Make yourself at home, then. I've little use of the guest room here, so it shouldn't be too much of a pigsty – albeit a bit dusty.”

“Okay.” I found myself wandering toward the large pane of glass instead and he took to the kitchen. “How have things been?”

“Pretty good, actually. I've managed to secure some good ground here. Unfortunately, I'm afraid that my illness has come back to nag at me again.”

“Really?” I stared out the window, gazing over the bland blocks of structures extruding from the pavement below. “How bad do you think it'll be this time?”

I heard him set a glass down on the counter, followed by a sigh, “Life-threatening, terminal, even. Doctor says I may only have a few weeks left.”

A stone sunk my chest then, “Two weeks... You couldn't have told me sooner?”

“No, Letter. The onset of this illness, whatever has afflicted me my entire life, is only rearing its symptoms since five days ago.”

“Right. You've got everything planned out for that?”

“I do, but I'm not going out with a bang. I'd prefer a quiet funeral. To be honest, I don't like the noise of a party. I've grown tired of those. Instead, I' have a doctor look after me for the time being. Would you like something to drink?”

“Apple juice sounds good, water if you don't have any. What are the ponies like that live here? A lot of them seem pretty self centered.” I sat down at the table, taking off my saddlebag. Yukon stayed in there, I think he was nervous about coming out.

“Ah well, they can all be great friends or they can be great enemies. You pick you battles here, see what options are best and hope the risk isn't more than what you bargain for. That's the way of the businesses around here. Unfortunately some prefer to cheat their way to the top. As you know I came out here to work as a manager of sorts, to promote coffee house talents and help them find stardom should they so desire. Still, some prefer not to obtain such high status. Even more that shake me off with a cold shoulder.” He used his magic to give me the glass of juice and I took it with a thank you. “Aside from that, how's the family been? I know your sister has been busy at the post office. Has she gotten any more gorgeous?” He took a seat then, sipping from a glass of milk.

He always teased me of having a lovely looking sister and how she still hasn't found a stallion worth enough to her. “Idol, she hasn't changed all that much. Just increased her workload a bit.”

“She'll work herself to death one of these days, she keeps that up.”

“You're one to talk.”

“Ouch.” He grinned. “The rest?”

“Mom's been sickly, as always but she's been able to get off the couch more recently. Dad's been busy with a bridge to a different part of the mountain for more residential districts.”

“Sounds pretty usual. And Apricot?”

“She's been well. I invited her to come along, but she's helping with a family reunion. Which reminds me, who's this mare that you're on about?”

“Ni, I'm not spoiling the name. You read enough in the letter. I'm sure she'd love to meet Apricot too.” He flipped the subject, “Have you been dating her at all? You two have been an item since you met, really.”

“Yes, we have.” I felt myself getting a bit shy about it. “Three dates now in the past week or so.”

“I hope you two enjoyed yourselves then. I wish the best for the future too. I won't be there to see it.”

“Idol, don't talk like that, please. Not now.” His grin vanished. “What about your family? What have they said in response to this?”

“Family? Yours was more than mine, Letter. They've written me out, really. Luckily, my father and mother both wrote me in their will, giving me what money they had left. It's helped a lot but I haven't spent a single bit of it. Put it all in a savings account when I moved out here. A victory for me, wouldn't you say?” He smiled again. “Of course, they've been trying to get back at me for that.”

“Well, from what you've told me I can't imagine why.” I recalled the letter to think of another topic. “Oh, wasn't there some commission piece you were asked to do?”

“Yes. Bluntly speaking, the fountain in front of Manehatten University was done over from a bunch of vandals. Why anypony would do that is beyond me. I think I can make it better though. I've got something special in mind. I've had a bit of practice already.”

“You'll have to show me when you get the chance.”

I drank the rest of my apple juice and he drank the rest of his and by some coincidence, the doorbell rang when he got up. He set our glasses on the counter and answered the door. I heard a familiar voice after he opened it. A cheery and proud voice that matched his level of speech. He joked about her bringing in a few boxes of Filly Scout cookies. He parted with her a moment to take her bags and let her roam on her own. Straight for the kitchen. She didn't see me at first, but when she turned the corner and looked at the table, she did. “Letter! It's so nice to see you again. Did Idol invite you as well?”

She took the other chair, “He did”

“How are your wings?”

“They're fine. Although, I've been refraining from using them. Don't know how well they've healed, ya know.”

“Doesn't hurt to stretch out every once in awhile darling.”

Idol crept up behind her signaling me to keep quiet, “Of course, but Clackerton has rules about flying due to its location. Maybe I'll get some time here.”

“Very well, I would watch out for-” She shrieked from the surprise hug Idol gave her. “IDOL! What have I said about doing that!” she whimpered.

“You two have already met, how so?”

“I had an extended stay in Ponyville due to an enhancement of sorts to my wings. Had to spend some time in the hospital there to recover.”

“Oh, how did this happen?”

“A magic storm. Flew into the eye of it, something zapped me and I fell to the ground.” A half truth, but it's not wrong either.

“Pretty random methinks. However, recalling one of Rarity's stories, the one about Discord especially, I don't doubt it. I'm not going doubt you, either.”

“Thanks, Idol. As you were saying, Rarity?”

“Saying?” She calmed herself, “Oh, yes. As I was saying, just look out for zeppelins and other pegasi. There have been a few accidents.”

Idol pulled away from Rarity, “While you two catch up, I'll make some for dinner.”

We talked a bit. Watched a television, a strange device really. None of those in Clackerton, far as I know. We ate. Yukon came out of my bag, Idol hadn't been expecting an eagle to pop out of there.

As for Rarity and Idol being a pair, I can see why. However, I don't know how he's going to tell her that he's a dying stallion. I don't like to think about it, but it's a topic that will need to be brought up.

#78
Winter. Day 79. Noon. Manehatten.

We slept well into the morning having exhausted ourselves from the enjoyment of conversation. Rarity had gotten up earlier to attend to some matters of her own. Idol invited me to join him in breakfast at this diner further down the street called Cup of Blues. Said the one here in the tower was bland and tasteless.

Cup of Blue was a small place nestled between two much taller buildings and a short walk from an intersection and a power plant. To look back toward the Gemini Towers you could only see the bridge and the row of bushes that sat just before the sidewalk, dividing it from the brick driveway. The diner itself was dainty and although it was in older fashion, it felt more homely. The diner a lot of more earthly tones for its interior, accenting nearly everything with a neutral blue. Being small and yet large enough to hold a bar and a small stage for live performances. No curtains though, not necessarily something they needed there. The music being played matched the diner's color.

Soft and slow, a tread of heart in its sound, not to be danced to but felt. A double bass played by a gray pony with black mane and tail, and a purple treble clef cutie mark. She kept her eyes closed during her ongoing performance. A clear indication, to me, that she'd been playing for years. The bow held delicately, the strings tugged lightly, and notes called out in a quiet voice. She was accompanied by mare white as snow with two toned blue stripes in both her tail and mane styled in an unusual way. She sat behind a board wired to a microphone and a set of speakers on the stage. They were on, but at a low volume.

Idol and I had a seat not too far from that stage and its cherry wood planks at a small table of the same. The waitress brought us our orders. He ordered waffles, I ordered pancakes. I had tea, he had coffee. Both of us had syrup and butter. By some coincidence, the music stopped then and Idol spoke up, “What do you think of Rarity?”

“She's a generous mare. It's her nature. Although, I'm guessing she may also be a bit selfish. You should know more than I do about her.”

“I do. Was curious, is all.”

“You know that you'll have to tell her right?” I blurted out. “Sorry.”

“Don't be, Letter. I've been thinking about it for months now. Even if I didn't know then. Just don't tell her, okay? I'd rather her not be angry with me.”

“Right. I suppose the best time to tell her would be when the doctor comes over. Before, might be better. On the same day of course.”

“That sounds all right. I'd like to take her out, at least once without the thought on her mind. I'm just not sure when or how.”

I thought back to our school days together, there was always one mare fawning over him, “Really, Idol? The one crowned 'Most Handsome' in our school is having that kind of issue?”

He glared, “Letter, you know I never date much. Family wouldn't allow for it.” he continued, with a sigh. “What would you suggest.”

I thought back to some of dating advice I used to hear, father was good at that, “Take her out where you two first met. Somewhere extravagant, even. I'm not even sure if you should be asking me.” He stared down into his coffee, complacently. “You all right?”

“Just thinking back, ya know. Back when I – we didn't worry about this. Anyways, you've given a proper idea. I'll figure something out.”

And just as the conversation had started, it ended much the same. It was actually kind of amusing that it happened that way. Noon rolled around by the time we got back to the suite. Idol prepped himself with pinstripes and tie. Said that he wanted to surprise her when she got back, knowing she would be soon. He showed me how to use the radio in the guest room and the television in the living room. The stove and oven as well, should I need their use. He was nervous about surprising her, as he was generally one to have things on a schedule days or months in advance.

#79
Winter. Day 80. Morning. Manehatten.

Rarity and Idol went out last night. Went to a play called The Masked Phantasm. A story well know both here and at home apparently. About a stallion who slowly chases his friends and family away by pretending to be a ghost of sorts so he can spend his final days alone. Only to be undone by a mare who loves him. Discovering his that he owned the mask that protected his identity. However, in an odd twist at the end, the passing stallion, who at this point has his loved ones surrounding him, on his death bed says to them that he was not the one who wore the mask. Then the curtains closed. The author of the story has passed away some time ago. A sequel was never written. Some like to believe that it was for the better. Others demanded one. It seems both opinions died out long after the story was first released.

They both enjoyed the play, although Rarity kept going on about how atrocious some of the outfits and props were designed. Idol had to steer her off that topic a few times. I would've liked to have went with the two of them, Rarity insisted that I go too but I insisted that it was fine. Assuring her that I've heard the story well enough already. Idol said the the date was satisfying, he hadn't had one with her in such a long time without the worry of work. I was glad to hear it however, he seemed to neglect telling her of his illness. It was still at an early stage, but I could see that it was getting worse. How does one see a black face getting pale?

#80
Winter. Day 81. Morning. Manehatten.

Yesterday afternoon, after Idol had come home from his last day of work, he collapsed on the kitchen floor while prepping himself some food. I saw him trying to stagger out of there when I came to his aid, having heard plates shatter against the floor. I hefted him up, and placed him on his bed. This was his illness. Fever, coughing, a quickened heartbeat, hallucinations. There have been a few times where he'd fall into a prolonged state of sleep as well. I didn't care for the ceramic pieces stuck in my hooves, as much as they hurt. Idol fumbled his nightstand drawer for his doctor's number. Told me quickly how to reach him. Some device the doctor developed for him to use. A pager, he called it.

I kept at Idol's bedside until the doctor showed up. A portion of time that felt far too long. The doctor showed up, ushered me out of Idol's room so he could perform the proper procedure. Whatever that may be. I sat in the hall with Yukon, gently stroking his feathers and crest, patiently waiting for some result. A part of me hoped for a miracle, another part was in vexing jealousy, a third accepting of it all. Conflicting bunch of feelings, disconcerting too.

The clack of the dead bolt jolted and refocused my mind. Rarity came back from her charity event. She saw me in the hall, silent stares at one another. It was with a sigh that confirmed what we both knew. She quietly closed the door and sat down next to me. “You had to call the doctor?”

“Yea. He collapsed in the kitchen. I carried him to bed and he told me to call the doctor.”

“I see. And your hooves?”

I had forgotten about that. “Oh, they're fine.”

“How long has it been?”

“About an hour, I think? I haven't kept track of the time honestly. I kind of don't want to.”

“How long have you known?”

“The illness?” She nodded. “As long as I've known him, five or so years now I think. I didn't think to tell you when I first heard. Even if I did...” I trailed off. At this point, it didn't matter how long either of us had known.

“Don't worry, Letter, I understand. As much as it hurts.” As much as I would think she wouldn't, I've no right to doubt her either.

“Thanks. Honestly, I didn't know how much time he had left until I got here. He's gotten sick like this before, but he always came out of it. Even if the doctor says that he won't make it through this time, I don't want him to be right. I've lost family but never a friend.”

“Letter, calm down.” I was unaware that my thoughts were sending me into a panic. “Let's wait to hear the words from the kind doctor, darling.”

I breathed deeply. “Thanks.” Even after I said those words. Even I after I repeated those words to the doctor, I feel that no amount of thanks could ever help. I'm losing a friend. That doctor had eyes that spoke. He's told this to many before us in different matters. Idol has two weeks and the best we can do is make him as comfortable as possible. His magic would be the first to go.

Rarity went into the room first after the doctor left, after informing us that he would be coming back on a daily basis until Idol ultimately passes away. I was hesitant, standing in the doorway, watching her talk with him from afar. I eventually willed myself into looking at him, hooked up to an IV with water, a bloody napkin beside a bowl of warm water on his nightstand. A moist rag on his forehead. Heavy, dry breathing that berated the ears.

Idol gazed back at me, smiled, “You like you've seen a ghost.”

I halfheartedly joked back, “Maybe I have.” Only, that was true but he didn't know.

“Well, looks like I'll be kicking the bucket this time, Letter. I've grown rather tired of this and as much as I would like to live longer, I'm satisfied with everything the way it is now.” He paused, to catch his breath before speaking up again. “I've got lovely surprises for both of you, but only until you see the will.”

“Right,” I answered.

It was a long night, Rarity having fallen asleep at his bedside and I went to my own room unable to. All I could have were nightmares and rambling thoughts of what he and I shared. There was this same feeling that kept repeating itself, that he had been alone for most of his life. At least, until he met me. I never really thought about how much I changed his life, I never thought I was trying to. Th result was me staying up, just listening to white noise through the radio. Somehow, that quiet whisper of hissing was comforting. Sometimes I thought I heard a trumpet blare through it, followed by strings. Then, an entire orchestra. I can't remember the tone. They were just there, singing.

#81
Winter. Day 82. Late Noon. Manehatten.

Rarity left for the majority of the day again, having to attend a fashion show of sorts with somepony named Sapphire Shores. A big wig in the industry, apparently. I kept to Idol's bedside until the doctor came. Again when he left. I've had to replace the rag a few times already. Idol didn't seem to care for the illness. He'd grown up with it, adjusting and bearing with it every time it decided to try and claim him. He talked, being the chatterbox he always has been. Only, the sickness had berated his voice now. He had to speak softly, with a slight wheezing.

“I ever tell you how great a friend you are, Letter?”

“You have, two times already. Once during graduation and before you moved out here.”

“Ah, right. Something along the lines of being there until the end. No matter how hard it gets.”

“Pretty close, yea.”

“I need you to do me one last favor.” He pulled out two envelopes from his nightstand with his flickering magic. “I've had these in here for awhile now. Really, they've kind of haunted me. Both these letters need to delivered. The blue one to the diner we went to and the yellow one to a foster home on the outskirts here.”

“Foster home?”

“Aha,” He coughed, “right. I haven't told you yet. Rarity and I were looking to adopt a young colt there. Was orphaned by a fire. He's a bit of an artist.”

“I could see you being a father, Idol. If you didn't have to deal with this, you'd probably be able to raise him more.”

He laughed, “Yea. Thing is Letter, I'm already plenty happy.”

A knife to the heart with those words. “Yea. I guess you are. Anyways, where's the foster home at?”

“Ask Rarity when she gets back and when you get there, ask for Statuesque. He's a bit shy, but he won't hide on you. The letter for the diner, just give it to the host, she'll know what to do.”

“Alright. I'll see to it in the morning then.”

#82
Winter. Day 83. Early Evening. Manehatten.

I talked with Rarity a bit last night, to see if she could she could stay and watch over Idol. She thankfully agreed. I asked her for the directions to the foster home as well. Which she gladly gave me. I got up early this morning, to make my effort to deliver the letters easier. I hoped. Maybe it's just the fact that I wanted to get the letters out as soon as I could.

I somehow managed to remember the way to the diner, Cup of Blue. Of course, it wasn't that difficult to find either. I gave a letter to an light apple red of a mare, freckled red with red-orange mane. She told me that Idol was a regular here, that he had secured the diner financially. Renovated it and renewed its atmosphere. He worked with manager who had a knack for interior work. Then she began to tell me in her sweet voice, that she heard some stories from Idol about me. My kindness and determination, and my sometimes stubborn nature. How well rounded I was to other ponies, despite not having many friends in school. Idol was right about all that but it made me wonder, why didn't he ever talk to her about himself. I left after she excused herself in order to give the letter to the proper recipient.

Traversing the wildly congested sidewalks, following the directions that Rarity gave me to get to the foster home. It was nerve racking to try and follow the directions even. My mind so wound up about Idol and wondering what else he's done around here. Regardless of all that, I eventually found myself on a dirt road on the outskirts of Manehatten. I found the proper address and when I looked back to where I thought The Gemini Towers would be, I couldn't see them. Not even the steeples that topped them. However, I could see some factories further down the road, billowing smoke from their stacks. The train station was around there too, the boxcars rolling along the tracks. I could hear the whistle of the locomotive blow repeatedly. Similar to the whistle that was blown at the docks of Clackerton.

I turned to the house, checked the address again. A large split level home with a small porch. Green in color, blue shutters, foggy windows, and rickety steps up to the door. Some rather obvious repair on the posts and the door frame done by nails and small unpainted boards. Random chalk drawings covered the sidewalk up to the steps. Some of the house, some of random animals, some of rocket ships. With every creak of the board, the thought ran by me, how is a young colt going to handle this? Even then, a stranger telling him that his once father-to-be is dieing?

With a deep breath, I cleared my head and knocked on the door. It flung open and a fat pony, tired and smelly, opened the door; with an untrimmed beard. “What?” he croaked.

“I have a letter for Statuesque.”

“You can't leave it in the mailbox?” he snarled.

“Sorry sir, I'm not familiar with postal system here. I'm not entirely positive on where your mailbox is, sir.”

Peering over my shoulder, frustration ran his face. “Darn kids down the street must have knocked it over and taken it again. I don't know why they keep doing it.” He scratched his head. “Tell ya what, I'll get Statuesque and you can give the letter to him. I don't want the other kids digging in.”

“I can wait.” Honestly, I didn't want to. I wanted to make sure Idol was all right. I could hear that stallion call out for Statuesque from behind the closed door. Then it creaked open again, not to reveal the stallion, but a young colt half my age. “Statuesque?”

“Y-Yes.” he squeaked. “W-What is it?”

I pulled the letter out of my bag. It was a lot lighter without Yukon in there. I left him at the suite in case they needed to contact me. It did take some reassuring, however. “A letter for you, from Idol Find.”

“R-Really?” he was excited to hear that. Statuesque, what a fitting name for this colt. Stiff coat clouded like white marble. His mane and nub of a tail to match; eyes a soft pink. “T-This doesn't seem right. H-He's dieing. T-That can't be true, tell me it's not please. P-Please!” he pleaded.

I sat down and opened my forelegs up to him, he immediately hugged me; crying his eyes out. I let him finish crying before I spoke up, “I know. I'm a friend of his. A very close friend.”

“I-I see. I-I should pack my things to see him then. W-Would you mind leading me back, mister?”

“I can. Will your foster parent be okay with that?” He nodded. “Good.” I sat on the porch for a little while. Admiring the stark scenery of bland skyscrapers and dirty roads. Before I knew it, I lost my thought to those chalk drawings. The sweet innocence unmarred by tragedy. I envied it, even. A third and final swing of those creaking hinges snapped through me again. I heard the foster parent questioning Statuesque if it was all right. When he heard Idol's name, the nervousness in his voice disappeared. He then helped him take his stuff out by the road. A barrage of suitcases strapped to a dolly.

“You're Idol's friend, Letter, I presume?” I nodded. He looked back to see if Statuesque was minding his own. “Idol's a good kid, helped with the bills here. Told me a bit about you too. Said you could be a good father, just like him. Shame that won't happen now. I'm sorry. Oh, before I forget, some paper work for Idol.”

“Thank you.” I felt so empty saying that, but somehow, it helped.

I watched him from the road, glance back to see him close the door. It didn't squeak this time around. I glanced down at Statuesque and he assured me that he was ready to go. From there, we slogged our way through the city streets. A longer walk than my trek through that snow.

When I finally got back to the suite, we passed the doctor on his way out and we greeted each other with a nod. I moved Statuesque's suitcases into Rarity's room, where he would be staying the night. Rarity, at this point, seemed like a caring mother or a very wise older sister. Statuesque would be more comfortable with her than with me.

#83
Winter. Day 83. Late Evening. Manehatten.

Funny that Rarity would come to get me after I was done writing my last entry. Told me that Idol wanted to talk to me before the night was through. So I took to his bedside. Told me to close the door and lock it, so I did. He just laid there and stared at the ceiling like it amused him. When I went to speak, he would shush me. I don't know how long it was until he spoke up. “Letter, you want to know how I got here?”

“Sure.”

“Because of you, Letter. I felt I could learn a lot from doing things like you do. As it turns out, it works pretty well.” he grinned. “The way you always interacted with other ponies always made me a bit jealous. Still, I wonder how you didn't have many friends to go to.”

“Well, I-”

“Shush. I'll tell you now why I never spoke much about my family, other than my parents. My family was a load of inbred shits. Believing to keep the blood pure by doing so. My illness is a result of that. We kept every event to ourselves, arranged our marriages well before the child would even be born. Balls and galas alike were all held in an underground reception hall that easily hid our secrets. Even the choice to go to our school was on a thin wire. I was lucky to move out here, even.

And you, Letter, helped me a lot with that, whether you know it or not. I'd go out into your world every day happy as could be and when I was at home I had to endure the most blatant and tight-lipped conversations and uptight noble rolls that everypony performed. It would be so much better if none of that ever existed. I don't wish vengeance, Letter, I wish for an end. I hope you don't mind another favor.”

“I don't”

“Good.” his fickle magic grasped for another envelope on his nightstand. “Take this to the mayor when you get back. “Here. This contains information on my families black market; which traffics servants and drugs. Flight Gear and the mayor don't know about this spiel, they should be fine and my family doesn't know about you. So you should be fine.”

“Making your family sound like some sort of conspiracy group, Idol.”

“They pretty much are but they've yet to take action in taking over Clackerton.” what? “It's something I figured out when I asked a friend of mine in the Guard. Plus the fact that they've sent me letters asking for my help in any way, I outright denied them.” He tugged at my mane, “I want it stopped before it begins, Letter. Before the entire town is held hostage.” and let go.

“Held hostage?”

“They've managed to persuade many of the guard, some of the mayor's assistants, and some of Flight Gear's dock workers.”

“Why are they doing this?”

“Greed. Power. That's pretty much it. They don't care what happens to the town. They never have.”

“You couldn't have told me or the mayor because?”

“Because I was scared. Really, I was. I'm not brave, Letter. Moving out here is probably the bravest thing I've ever done. When all's said and done, I've come to realize that I'm nothing more than a bumbling coward.”

My temper flared. “Idol. Shut up, dammit. Shut up. You were never a coward. We all have our fears. Just stop saying that.” I calmed myself down, noticing his jolted reaction. “Sorry. I don't like to get angry. Just, don't go believing that you're a coward, you never were.” More weight “You're doing the right thing. If something goes wrong, I'll figure something out.”

“Right. You will. I know it.” He sighed. “Stay here a bit, would you? It's lonely here.” So I did.

For a time, our breaths were the only things that filled the silence, he asked me a quick question about my job. I proceeded to tell him about my venture through Light Fringe Kingdom and how I helped find a king and helped him with a magic wand. I told him about Ponyville and the blizzard; the ability translate an ancient language and my wings. Then I told him about my mother and the poems she wrote. The Designers who practically set the world in motion. I neglected some minor details: the gold walls, the pain, the hallucinations. It felt better, telling him my story and seeing the look of enjoyment spread wildly across his face. He always liked a good story. Never read into fairy tales that much. It's a shame, that he won't live to see it progress any further.

“That's a great story, Letter. I sincerely hope that you're writing it down.”

“I am, actually. Helps me remember certain things sometimes. There is another reason though, the town doctor said that I had some sort of long term memory loss. So I guess, in a way, I'll be losing my life well before I die.”

He eyed me, “That's a rather morbid joke, Letter.”

#84
Winter. Day 88. Evening. Manehatten.

I've been feeling quite conflicted over these last few days. I've been wanting to keep myself distant from Idol but at the same time, I want to stay as close as I can; which I've been doing. His illness hasn't gone anywhere. Yet I know it's worsening. His magic has consistently failed him when he's been working with Statuesque. I've struggled to understand the work between them, having no prior knowledge of how statues and fountains are made. I guess my urge to help was to help Idol and in effect, get to know Statuesque a bit better too.

For such a young colt, he was rather intelligent about his talent. Heck, he was at an age where most ponies don't even have a cutie mark yet. Idol was trying to get his hoof into the artistic world and this young colt was his key to that. Shame he wouldn't even be able to get it in the lock. They collaborated on a scale model for the fountain that was to placed in the University's square. They both agreed on a book, closed, bookmarked, and untitled. It would sit on an angled surface and pedestal, with a pool of water surrounding it. Finally, a plaque with the University's motto written on it. A simple concept, really. I can't help but wonder what else they'll do with it though.

It was after they finished the model that the doctor gave us some more unfortunate news. Idol is going to have less time now, as he's predicting that the illness will progress further. Saying he'll do what he can for as long as he can. I could see in his eyes that this was a losing battle. He was such a blank face of a stallion. A heart with a few too many stones.

#85
Winter. Day 89. Evening. Manehatten.

Lung removed. Fair mess of blood on the old sheets. Idol's been unable to talk since. I'm gonna miss that voice of his. Rarity has been taking this whole situation far better than me, I think. She's managed to sort out her feelings. I, on the other hoof, am starting to feel a bit more conflicted and confused. Sure my uncle passed away but I can't even remember how I felt then. I've tried over and over to replicate that feeling in my mind to no avail.

On a somewhat lighter note, I've been busy all day opening and closing the door to the suite. Letting in ponies of all sorts. The manager, the foster parent and the other four foster kids, the hostess, those two musicians, some fashion designer with goggles over her eyes, and the University's dean. All of whom, I learned the names of: Grape Tomato, Care, Hopscotch, Tooth Ache, Chalk Tale, Stair Step, Apple Cinnamon, Octavia, Vinyl Scratch, Photo Finish, and Dean. All of them knew Idol. I sat in the corner of the room some of the time, as they brought in balloons and cards, watching the way they interacted with him. Idol tells me that I'm the one who encouraged him. It's so bittersweet.

They all knew about me too; told me the same story, how I inspired him. A part of me wants to believe that this is my fault. That he wouldn't be lying here if I never did. They all gave Rarity and I their condolences. I never said much more than a thank you. Rarity did most of the talking, for the both of us. I could already see them all in mourner's clothes.

#86
Winter. Day 91.Noon. Manehatten.

Idol's gone. He's fucking gone. Died with a smile.

His heart seized up. The doctor did what he could. No amount of magic would bring him back. Not even the Eidolon. After the doctor left with his supplies I just sat alone there in the room. Rarity kept away, I don't know what for. I don't know. My hooves were shaking the entire time I was in there. I was angry, terrified, sad. The urge to just destroy something was overwhelming. I wound up talking to him, a dead stallion, about the first time that we met; holding his hoof the entire time.

#87
Winter. Day 92. Early Evening. Manehatten.

With his lawyer's permission, we opened a lockbox under his bed. Idol told us that is where he kept his will and his surprises that he told us about when this all started. Two deeds to two small cottages northwest of Neighagra Falls. One for Rarity, and one for myself. Statuesque was now officially their adopted son. Idol gave what money he had to both Rarity and I. He gave me instructions on how to withdraw that money if I needed to. That's how he was though, always thinking ahead.

As for the funeral, that will be held tomorrow at a small hall not far from the foster home. I'll be one of four to carry his casket to the graveyard.

#88
Winter. Day 93. Late Evening. Manehatten.

We all dressed up to see him one last time. His stiff face with his forelegs folded. Mane and coat groomed well enough to date and marry. I gave a speech for a short time, describing my life with him and some of the shenanigans we had. I went on about the illness, calling it a hereditary disease that only affected him. Then that we should remember him for who he was and the impact that he had and that he lies with us in our hearts. I finished off with the last few moments we all shared with him and that some of us will fight losing battles. All pretty typical, really. Others gave their speeches too, but I can't remember any of them.

All I can remember was his face once he couldn't talk anymore. His eyes screaming “sorry.” Cursing the disease. He screamed and he screamed but his voice was no more than a wisp of wind.

We carried his casket to the graveyard and lowered it into that hole deeper than a well. A casket of dark polished wood and gold plated bars, lowered into pitch black. To be buried by earth forever and marked by a tombstone. On it, aside from birth and death and name, he had engraved, “I am no coward.” I smiled at that. I was the last to leave that graveyard. Yukon started bugging me about the cold. I couldn't care for it. I've noticed though, that he's gotten a bit bigger. I'm not sure he'll be able to tuck himself away in my bags for much longer.

The sun had already set before I left, the streetlamps flickered on in their light orange hues. Rarity found me then and by some strange occasion, it started raining. She shielded us from it with her magic; I didn't mind. I swore I could hear the echo of his piano playing. A melody from his heart he used to play that was both joy and heartfelt sadness.

When we got back to the suite, I stumbled into my room unaware of how tired I truly was. I stripped the suit and found myself sitting at the edge of my bed, unable to sleep. Yukon bugged me to too. I pleaded with him to leave me be for a bit and he did. Rarity slinked through the half-opened door and sat beside me, held her forelegs open and waited. My head found her soft white chest and I sat there and sobbed. I sobbed and I sobbed. I choked and sniffled. Yet, she didn't let go. I was so tired.

#89
Winter. Day 95. Evening. Manehatten

Since yesterday, I've been keeping watching over Statuesque as he began constructing the fountain at the University. It was a wonder to watch him dance his magic around cauldrons of liquid bronze and poor it in a shell of his magic. He assembled each part in sections as if they were building blocks. He was happy and blissful in his work. Left some parts to cool while he laid out another section. Clear that he had plenty of practice doing this.

The University of Manehatten was as grand as any. Red brickwork, concrete foundations, large windows, dorms flanking each side, a courtyard that could be its own park with encircling hedgerows around the center fountain, and trimmed down birch trees. Of course there was some pointlessly placed fences as well but I imagine they're there for decoration; considering their ironwork. The University itself was placed in a more suburban area, where houses nearly identical lined the streets. All colored in their own way.

Rarity, on the other hoof, was guest speaking in the auditorium for those who were interested in fashion design. She had become well known for that. When she came to meet me yesterday and today, she felt that there were a lot of ponies who were ogling her or their fellow classmates. She kept her head level.

Today she caught me reading through some books about mythologies and fairy tales. Some of which Idol loved. I guess it was my way of coping. She gave me a letter, from Idol. Something he wrote before he got sick apparently. It went over the fact that he knew he was going to be passing soon, what would happen, and that there was nothing that could be done to cure it. It went over what he loved about my kindness but he added to that, saying I was fit to be a leader of sorts; a king, even. He finished it saying that I should marry Apricot and how he wished to marry Rarity. An idea shot down by his illness.

By the time I finished reading the letter, Statuesque had finished the fountain. A marvelous piece of work. All that was left was the plaque and the water to fill its bed. Although, I can't help but wonder if the vandals would come back and break it again. Rarity went to fetch Dean so that he knew it was finished. I suppose we'll be coming back here tomorrow for the grand unveiling of sorts. Statuesque has a great future ahead of him, but I fear that Rarity may not always be there for him. Now, without his adopted father, he'll be missing out on fatherly advice too.

I read one of the bedtime stories from the book of fairy tales to Statuesque, tired from his work. A story about a bard who saves a kingdom from a magical beast. Legend having it that spears and swords did no harm and magic were largely ineffective. The king called for all those brave enough to hunt it down and by some unfortunate chance, the bard got caught up in the situation. The beast roamed around the woods outside of the orchard farms. The bard was afraid, of course. When the beast broke through the treeline all the mercenaries fought it and ultimately fled but the bard saw things differently. Gave it a song from his lute and the beast calmed down. The bard tamed the beast and was rewarded handsomely by the king; he declined the reward and its glory. From then on, the beast and the bard disappeared.

From that, a new legend spawned. If anypony who saw the two of them and heard the song, they would be blessed with protection from all sorts of evils.

Statuesque was had fallen asleep halfway through the story's telling. I continued reading it until the last words anyways. I like to believe the tale actually happened in some far away land. Like mother's tale about the princess and the kingfisher.

“That's so sweet of you to do, darling.” Rarity chimed.

I closed the book. “Thanks. Honestly don't have much experience with children. He wanted me to read him one. So I read him one I knew. How was the visit with Dean.”

“Good, said the unveiling of the fountain would be tomorrow. Along with the plaque and the dedication."

"That's good to hear. Go ahead and take Statuesque back to the suite, I'll take these books back to the library."

#90
Winter. Day 96. Evening. Manehatten University.

The unveiling ceremony of the fountain was small, mostly faculty members and some special guests. Among them, a familiar face: Photo Finish. She seemed to have an appreciation for the arts. I wonder what kind of relationship Idol had with most of these ponies that he'd never really told me about? Perhaps I should ask the lot of them when I get the chance. I still have a few days here, after all. Aside from that, the plaques of dedication and the motto were melded to bas of the fountain; facing the main hall. The dedication to Idol followed by a short quip of him being a loving father, and the motto "Knowledge is the key" were written in all caps; gold and copper on a bronze plate. Knowledge being key, not something you can really argue with but it can wind up in the wrong hooves.

Most of the afternoon was spent enjoying the free food that was available on elongated tables clothed in white. It became less an unveiling and more of a gathering of sorts. I seem to be forgetting the proper word, if there is one. I asked Photo Finish how she got to know Idol. She gave me her condolences once again, I instinctively thanked her for it. Apparently, she had met Idol when he was looking into somepony to critique some artwork of his. Work that all sold quite well from what she tells me. Work that portrayed the modern pony, stuck in arrogance and greed. Photo Finish offered him some advice and ran with it. He often asked her for composition advice as well, saying that photography and traditional art can compliment each other.

The event eventually came to a close as everypony began to go their own separate ways. Rarity, Statuesque, and I stayed even after the Dean left. I was happy that my ears could rest for a bit. I began to think about Idol again and my heart sank again. I still had his request to fill and I could only wonder how deep and how far his families operations have spread. I looked down at the Parchment Stone Celestia had given me. Perhaps I could request her help. Then Rarity snatched my thoughts away.

"Letter, dear" She seemed to address close friends this way, I've finally noticed, "Idol's death is bothering you?"

"Yea."

"You should be happy, for him, he won't have to deal with that illness anymore."

I stared through the fountain, "I am. It's painful to lose a loved one. Yet I feel like I haven't mourned properly."

"There's no proper way." she shrugged. "We cope the way we can. It's different for everypony."

"I suppose you're right. Funerals aren't very common in Clackerton but when they do occur, it's usually just the immediate family that shows."

"Understandable. None too many in Ponyville, either."

Statuesque's tired face caught Rarity's attention as he awoke from his nap. He circled around on the bench a bit and slept some more. We headed back to the suite with him in tow. I glanced at the stone again. Part of me wishes that Idol was lying about his family but I've no reason not to trust him.

#91
Winter. Day 98. Morning. Manehatten.

The three of us packed our belongings yesterday in preparation for todays leave. Statuesque gave one last goodbye to his friends at the foster home. After that we went back to the suite. I kind of felt my heart sink, knowing that I was leaving Idol here instead of bringing him home with me. Then again, I have the same feeling when I leave Clackerton because of work. Anxiousness, perhaps?

Before heading to be last night I painstakingly copied the letter Idol had given me, his writing had improved dramatically. I wasn't sure half the words were real or some concoction. I then attached it to another letter, a request rather, to Celestia. Asking for some assistance. I muttered the words and sent the two pieces of parchment off in a dull blaze of red. Doubt crossed my mind a moment, but I threw it aside.

As it happened, I turned to hear and see Rarity creek the door to my room open. “What was that?” her curiosity piqued.

“A letter to Celestia.” I answered honestly

“You send reports to her too?” I cocked my head, confused. “My fault, I've forgotten that you haven't heard about those.” She eased the door shut. The hinges lightly creaked and the slide clacked softly. “It started with Twilight, whom you've met, she'd send a 'friendship report' off to Princess Celestia at least once a week. Then the rest of the group started to. Spike was our messenger.”

“You all still writing them, then?”

“No, I'm sure Twilight is but I fear it's more a chore for her now. Being a princess and all.”

“Jealous?”

She burned me a bit with her eyes, “A bit, yes. While I do partake in noble habits I do prefer the company of less refined” she paused, “ponies.”

“My father always said that it's always nice to have friends of all sorts. Rich or poor, dumb or smart, royalty or common.” Advice he instilled a variety of times when he had the chance.

“Your father sounds like a wise pony.”

“He can be. Other times he's not so smart.” I set the quill down and stacked what paper I had left to pack. “Anyways, was there something else?”

“I just want be sure you're doing all right, darling.” Again with the darling. “With how much he told me, us, about you, it seems like it was going to hurt a lot more than what you're showing.”

Perhaps I was, but perhaps I was tired of mourning already. “I don't know, honestly. The night I wept in your chest, I think, wore me out. Relating to what you said yesterday, I think I'm figuring out my mourning.” I sighed. “Part of me knew he was going to die at some point, but the problem was never knowing when. Part of me felt a weight lift off my shoulders and subsequently feels guilty for it. It's mixed, really”

She took a moment to understand what I said. “Very conflicting.”

I drew myself from the desk to the bed and began to reach for the lamp. My hoof suddenly restrained by Rarity's magic. “Um, Rarity?” I rolled over to see her.

“Could you tell me more about him? His backstory, I mean.”

So I told her. From his date of birth, which she knew. How he and I met. She surprisingly related to the wolf that had saved me, saying that she had seen it when he came through. Also remarked that Twilight had trained him in magic. I continued, telling her a bit about his incestuous family, the cause of his illness, and their apparent smug habits. I told her a quick story about the time when Idol imitated me when he first met my mother. She laughed at that. Told about his last request from him to me too. Despite my initial hesitation of the subject. She said she would've loved to help but with Statuesque in her hooves now, she had her schedule far fuller. I chuckled at that, then told her about my sister and how she suited her name.

The conversation came to a tiring close. It'd been awhile since I've winded myself talking. She enjoyed it as much as I did but she was concerned about his family issue. I told her not to worry much, if something happened, she'd find out one way or anything. I'm just hoping that it all goes off without a hitch.

Statuesque entered the room in the midst of the silence and tugged at Rarity because he had a nightmare. Without a word, she thanked me with her eyes and I accepted it with a nod.

#92
Winter. Day 98. Evening. Ponyville

I've opted to stay in Ponyville for tonight, once again taking to Twilight's guest bedroom. It was almost nostalgic being back here after that storm. It was nice to see the snow here without it burying the houses. Thatched roofs and painted wood for houses, streets of dirt or stone. The layout of Ponyville seemed rather disorganized as if it everypony had built their homes wherever they pleased. They had plenty of room to do so, Applejack's family orchard is plenty proof of that.

Twilight heard the story of Idol and Statuesque from Rarity. Twilight didn't sulk too much about the story, leaving her condolences with the three of us but congratulating Rarity on the adoption. Rarity and I seemed to neglect telling her about Idol's family issue though. I don't know why. Maybe we both felt it was a secret kept between us.

On another note, Rarity's younger sister, Sweetie Belle, was excited to have a nephew, despite not being related by blood. It's been a good night for all of us however, I still have the thought of the request I sent to Celestia and Idol's family crap on my mind. I've got my own family on my mind too.

As for getting home, I want to use my wings for once. I need to stop by Fluttershy's first though, to ask her a quick question about what species of eagle Yukon is. I've found a decent reference book to use, but the long train ride has left me a bit exhausted for some reason. Maybe it's the thought of Idol's leaving nagging me still. I've thought about the time he left Clackerton again. I thought it was a dumb idea, but that was my selfishness speaking out at the time. I came to terms with him leaving then, seems I'll have to repeat that again. I really don't want to, it's painful.

My eyes seem to be welling up again.