Canterlot Avenue requires Javascript to run properly. Make sure to enable it in your browser settings.
by on September 6, 2021
When wings Tire
And the soul’s Afire
Look to the Sky
And fly Higher
Smiles are the one thing Canterlot ponies seemed unable to afford. Their riches could buy them almost anything, and honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if they tried to buy the Sun and Moon. Walking these streets almost daily left me with more dread than even standing up to an Ersa Major. Their “clean” noses held high, hoof steps in sync, and eyes almost closed as the mindless wondered about. At least until eyes landed on me. Within an instant the faces of hoity-toity righteousness quickly burn away into scowls of fear, anger, and often even hate. Was It my fangs? No, couldn’t have been, they remained hidden unlike my mother’s at most times. Was it my short form, being one of under-average for my age? That would honestly be silly, even for them. There are plenty of ponies in Canterlot that aren’t of the labeled average size. Maybe my wings, thestral and batlike as they are, but the Lunar Guard would indicate that no, it’s not a fear.
I couldn’t lie, I knew exactly what it was. My connection to my parents left them wondering just how utterly dangerous I was. Would I also destroy nightclubs, lodge bullets into skulls, and vanish to leave the mess for others to clean up?
It’d seem letting my mind wonder had led me into another situation as my shoulder brushed against a stallion’s. He scoffed at me, his nose almost impossibly pointed further into the air as he let out a low, “my word, monsters always causing issues.”
With a sigh I had simply kept on walking, and to my annoyance a filly had trotted up to me, stopping just in my path. Ponies walking on the left, ponies walking on the right, of course I was stuck here now. Great… Most that approach me come with questions that were too personal to be answered. If it wasn’t one asking what I do then it was one asking if I could show my fangs. Some wanted to see my wings up close, even had an adult mare ask if she could…make wing-bling for me. I could still hear her whining to this day when I said no.
“Hey! I was wonderin’ wha’ it costs to do that to your eyes,” came the filly’s voice, less asking and more just like she was forcing me to explain.
“My…eyes?” I was a bit dumbfounded. I was born this way; no money could pay for these eyes. I scoffed, crouched, then shot over the filly in a flash of speed. I heard her gasp in both surprise and awe. By time she’d seen me again I was halfway down the street and rounding the corner. It was best not to talk to foals with how adults fear I’ll just “harm them for fun” or whatever psycho conspiracies they could conjure up.
As I rounded the corner I came face to face with a newer store, “Short Circuit’s Entertainment.” A store that sold some of the newest technology that’d hit the world seemingly overnight. Televisions and new radios that could pick up things called broadcasts and videos sent over the air. Guess I couldn’t complain too much being the radios help me tune in to find current happenings and news. Much faster than just reading the paper, but less reliable with their…twists. Live Media, as they call it, is hell.
My eyes focused on a television showing the silhouette of an androgynous pony. The speakers just loud enough to hear the newscaster through the store window as she drawled on.
“…turns out we may never truly know who this pony or other creature is. Most museums happy with how often this unknown individual brings in the sensitive artifacts of Equestria Past, but many ponies still fearing the unknown dangers as well. A Royal Guard has this to say,” she finished, the screen flashed to a recorded video of a Royal Guard.
“It does not matter if they are bringing in ponies of ill intent or not. Vigilantism is illegal in Equestria following the actions of some…unruly groups. The only ones with permission to take these sorts of actions are Guards, Officers, Preceding Administrations, and the Guardians of Equestria whom carry the Elements of Harmony.”
It seemed he had more to say but the screen flashed again before he could and brought back the well-kept mare. “We may get to see more soon as word has spread of a missing pony, one Blue Draft whose husband would be more than happy to see her again.” There was a small pause before she continued, the image changing in the corner to show off the elder mare with what seemed to be a greying mane. “She’s been missing since last weekend,” the news reporter continued, “as well, there seems to be another missing artifact, the Alicorn Amulet has fallen into the hooves of a pony that many believe may be the culprit behind her going missing. Will the Guards find the culprit, will we need the Elements? Tune in tomorrow as we continue coverage…”
As if on cue the owner would shut off the television to begin closing the store. I could see myself in the glass of both the television and the window. Almost like a reflection that tried to see deeper past my grey coat, red left eye, and blue right eye. Past the cloak that covered the rest of my body to hide what I was…maybe too ashamed to show at the time. The window reflected a faded version of me, something less threatening, happy, and younger. The television hinted at my current self, my split worlds between citizen and Godhunter. Almost like it was another life.
I had enough of seeing myself and began walking away, though my first steps were much harder than any pony would deem normal. In stepping hard, the gauntlets that encased my forelegs would collapse down and encase my hooves. The creator called them Cestus Horseshoes, and with how hard I could hit ponies with them, I could see why.
“Heh,” I laughed, pulled my hood over my head, and said, “Guards? Elements? Doubtful.”