>You never had it easy
>Contrary to what most thought about you, growing up was absolute hell
>Chasing some shady con artist and her dense little sister
>Sleeping in mud
>Dealing with the shame of arrests and being stuck in some pig sty of a pen for every mare and stallion to scoff and insult
>Dealing with getting left behind every time you felt the least amount of comfort
>Dealing with being so confused and clueless that you didn't even know how to use magic
>Those were the days, weren't they?
>You look down at the street from your office
>All of them have families
>Friends
>Trustworthy ponies that live their lives to the fullest
>You used to avoid these parts of towns and cities
>They were rich
>Too rich for you
>You could never blend in, no matter how hard you tried
>Even if you were offered something, you didn't know how to grab it with your magic
>Like a nightmare come true, everyone would look at the filly who was gifted an ice cream and let it fall to the ground
>It works better now
>The last time you had an accident, it was covered up
>But you had to change to another town
>You've been here for...
>How long has it been?
>Three months by next week?
>You're a respectable mare now
>You focus on numbers, logistics
>Due to your help, what used to be a little tinder box of a lumber company has grown
>Swallowed up competition and spit out the redundant bones
>You would never admit to it
>You would never show
>But part of you enjoyed seeing stallions and mares lamenting about how they could no longer feed their families
>Why would you care?
>You got by just fine
>You did more than just get by
>Years of crying, fighting, bleeding, stealing, lying
>All of those things made you the mare that you are today
>They even call you "Ms. Shine" now
>No one would ever call you that without your position
>Your power
>That is all that matters now, isn't it?
>Jacky and that "Dashie" of hers...
>You haven't seen them in years
>After that fight with that so-called gang of colts, you were left bleeding on the ground
>That was when your magic first truly came to life
>It hurt more than anything else in your life, to push your chest back out
>But apparently you lived
>They did too, you imagine
>When you came to visit them a few days after, they were gone
>The rags they had
>The bottles of perfume
>Even the food
>All of it was still in that rat's nest of a tunnel
>Of course, you ate all of the food
>You sold the perfume
>Or did your best to
>There's someone always in greater need
>So you exploited that
>Without hesitation, you sold every dram of foul smelling floral liquid to anyone who would give you the time of day
>You wouldn't have
>But thankfully others did
>Once you finally started to accumulate enough bits, you bought yourself a meal
>A real meal
>You couldn't finish it
>No matter how ravenous you were, you left two thirds of it alone
>You never did understand how and why you would so something so wasteful
>They wouldn't come back fo ryou
>They weren't your true friends
>They were never your friends
>But you were theirs
>Why else would you have followed them for hundreds and thousands of miles?
>Why else would you always include them in on your plans and schemes?
>Sure, some went bad and you had to leave them behind
>They weren't useless, they could handle themselves
>And they didn't show hesitation when they were in the clear and you were in trouble
>You look at your desk
>Proper
>Rich, dense wood
>You had it built, custom-made
>When you first got an office, it doubled as your home
>You ate and slept in it
>A hard wood floor was nothing compared to mud, stone and worse
>Others took that a sign of endearment and dedication
>Even where you work right now
>You wouldn't hesitate to burn everything down if it suited you
>Why would you care?
>They paid you
>You did things no one else could
>That was as far as that relationship went

>You work until the sun goes down
>Letters and business offers
>Warnings of audits if not-at-all-fake threats were ignored
>A
>A personal letter?
>Who would give a letter to you?
>The last time you had any form of social call or personal letter, it was a suitor
>Your horn went out of whack and burned him when he said that he loved you
>You hadn't even met him before, and after only a few hours of talking he went and said that
>You were mortified but did your best to remain stoic
>You thought for sure that you would be flayed and left for crows to pick at
>...Instead, days later the fool's father approached you and apologized
>He formally apologized for his son's behavior and offered you a job
>The goal, he said, was apparently to have his son married off and to get a company asset, all at once
>You still don't get it even today
>The father has long since been in the ground and the son runs things now
>He apparently never married but also never spoke to you
>Not directly
>Perhaps he knows what's good for him
>You carefully open the letter
>You often rip them apart out of poor control but others view it as anger or frustration
>Compared to what you felt before, this is nothing
>"Bonjour!
>This is Madam Jelly Belly. It has come to my attention that you were once friends with a little filly who called herself "Jacky". Do you remember her? I sure hope so!
>I am reaching out to you in hopes that you have knowledge on where she lives. Ever since she ran away, I have given every bit I could to help find her."
>...of course
>You haven't seen her for years and she's still somehow so much more important than you
>You have the strong urge to stop reading and to just turn the letter to ashes
>But
>You continue to read
>"Through my team's investigations, we have found out through numerous guard reports that you were a known associate of her. I hope this means you were a friend as well?"
>As if
>She wasn't your friend
>Just as you apparently weren't hers
>"If so, please write me back! I feel foolish for letting her run like that. If she is in trouble, or has found her family, or whatever the situation may be, allow me to help! I promise that I will do everything in my family's power to help. She doesn't need to keep running."
"Fat chance, lady..."
>The first words you've spoken all day
>Bitter and quiet
>"For your assistance, I have sent an unmarked but signed cheque. To show me your support, please write whatever number you wish and cash it. Upon cashing, I will be notified of your bank of choice and we can talk further.
>May every day bring a new blessing!
>~Jelly Belly"
>You turn the letter over
>Apparently it is a check
>Signed and dated too
>All that is left to fill in is the amount
>What a silly mare
>Doesn't she know that someone could openly rob her?
>What does she have to gain, by risking so much?
>If the thought were more humorous you might have smiled
>Instead, the letter ignites in a white-hot blaze
>You watch the fire dance and consume
>The fire used to be a dark, bloody red
>But it brightened up, the more you learned to control it
>Then it turned to orange
>Then yellow
>Blue
>Now, from blue to even white
>You hardly recognize it anymore
>When there are only remnants of ashes that remain, collected in a little red ball
>It blinks away
>Outside of the smell of burnt paper and the ambient heat that turned part of your desk black, no traces remain
>Just like what happened to those two

>You finish your day only when the sun goes down
>Without moving from your spot, you directly affect the lives of dozens of ponies
>Some are letters of resignation
>Letters for assistance or for bonuses
>Some that are almost legal threats about their businesses getting devoured
>So much is affected
>And you can't bring yourself to care
>If they were smarter, they would surely be in your position
>If they had friends, they would surely find other work, or have support
>If they were willing to do what you did, they would surely not be so pathetic
>But there they were
>And here you are
>"Miss Shine?"
>The faintest smile you could have drops at the sound of some office filly tapping her hoof against your door
"What."
>You don't mean to be mean
>You don't care if you are, granted
>But the fear in her eyes when she looks at you
>Part of you knows exactly what that is
>You can't hate someone who is so clueless
>You aren't a monster
>The filly flinches at your cold reply
>"O-oh, uh, I... ah..."
>She looks down at the floor, disengaging from your empty stare
>If you were still that little trash pony, would she still be so cowardly?
>Probably not
>The passing thought makes you blink
"Speak."
>The idle annoyance in your tone makes her jump high enough to nearly knock her head on the ceiling
>"AH! I-I'm catering for today's dinner b-because my parents ahum... we r-run a cafe! Would you like some... food? Please?"
>This is probably a ploy to get you on their good sides
>Even here, you aren't a nobody
>You glare at her
>Rather, it's more like you stare right through her
>Does she have friends?
>How will she recount this situation with you?
>Of all of the things she would says, she probably wouldn't dare badmouth you
>Because she knows that with a signature and a quickly drafted declaration, you could kill her family
>...
>'s business
>You blink a few times at that thought
>It doesn't impress you
>You really don't feel anything at all from it
"Yes. Thank you. I think I have had them before. My usual."
>Relieved that you have finally given her an answer, she salutes for a full second before fleeing at full speed
>"Yes thank you I'll be baaaaaaa..."
>It's obvious you've frightened her
>You didn't mean to
>In record time, the filly and two delivery mares stop by
>Without moving, you watch the night sky take over while the meal is set up
>It's a feast, frankly
>More than enough to feed three
>"T-thank you for choosing us Miss Shine! P-please come again!"
>The filly and her two cohorts leave
>Funny
>You have more than enough money than you care to count
>And yet they haven't charged you
>You paid them exactly once
>After that, they refused to take your money
>They came up with excuse after excuse, until the father outright begged that you eat for free
>The cafe was his grandmother's and he wished to see it flourish long enough for his daughter's foals to run it
>The notion was hilarious to you
>At the time, you didn't understand it
>The mere concept
>You laughed at him
>You howled with manic jubilation at his request
>Much to his horror
>You could see it in his eyes
>The look that he was going to die if you said "no"
>You left, still cackling
>You never did answer him
>But apparently he took it as a good sign and always had some pony deliver food right to your office
>Twice a day, without fail
>Every breakfast was simple enough
>Your stomach and body had grown enough that you no longer felt ill by eating an entire plate by yourself
>And for dinner...
>Three plates
>Three separate orders
>You don't remember what they used to like to eat anymore
>You have memories
>But they aren't clear
"You two better be grateful."
>You mumble to yourself
>You eat in silence, watching the two other plates
>This probably looks pathetic, but no one has ever said it
>You would feel ashamed
>But you really just can't feel anything at all