---
# System prepended metadata

title: Untitled

---

“… eighty-four, eighty-five, eighty-six…”
The heavy London rain relentlessly poured on John. What he had hoped would be a quick cargo check turned into a two-hour ordeal, when the goods he was responsible for were selected for thorough examination. He was used to the cold and damp, but with his clothes completely drenched he found himself struggling to keep his cool as the tax office representative slowly counted one box after another seemingly completely unbothered by the weather. John restlessly adjusted his bowler hat that offered at least some protection from the cursed torrents of water.

“... ninety-eight, ninety-nine, one hundred! Well, Mr. Williams, I am terribly sorry for the delay, but it seems that everything is infact in order. The cargo description, ship’s manifest, and your custom’s declaration all match,” the man said quickly, hardly bothering to make the apology sound sincere.

“No need to apologize for performing your duty officer,” John said automatically, in an equally bland tone. “As we spoke, I will have the shipment picked up tomorrow by my associates.”

“Very well, it shall be waiting here for them,” the other man said with a smile and tilted his hat. ‘In that case that would be all, thank you once again for your patience and I wish you a pleasant rest of the day Mr. Williams.”

John mimicked the man’s gesture. “Likewise, have a nice rest of the day your day officer.”

With the obligatory farewell out of the way, almost at once both men turned on their heels and began to walk away. With a brisk pace, John made his way through the half-empty dock. He stole a fleeting glance at his pocket watch and was relieved that it was only a little past four o'clock. While he wished for nothing more than a warm meal and a change of clothes he unfortunately still had some business planned for the day.

He soon reached Dock Street and was relieved to see a handful of empty-looking pony cabs milling about. Trying to make eye contact with one of the cabbies John raised his hand and waited if the man would notice him. Almost instantly he did and in a few moments, the pony cab was parked right in front of him. The cab was being pulled by four, relatively large earth ponies. Although relatively large, still only meant that their heads were at the level of his chest. Without paying the ponies much attention he quickly exchanged the obligatory greeting with the cabbie and ducked into the cab.

“Where will it be sir?” the cabbie asked through a small sliding window in the front of the cab.

“To the old Pony Market, please!”

“Old Pony Market!” the cabbie echoed his command to the ponies and slowly the cab began to pick up speed.

Docks weren’t too far, so John expected the trip shouldn’t take more than ten - maybe fifteen minutes at most. The cab gently swayed and jumped as it made its way through the cobblestone street. John tried to use the time to try and squeeze at least some of the water out of his drenched black coat. His efforts could hardly be called a success but it was better than nothing.

John checked his pocket watch again.

‘Half-past four… might still make it to the start of the auction,’ he thought. It didn’t take long however for the cab to come to a halt. At first, John patiently waited, but after almost ten minutes of no movement, he grew impatient. With some effort, he pushed the small sliding window on the side of the cab to the side and leaned out of it. He barely contained the annoyed grunt from escaping his lips at the sight in front of him.

At least two dozen cabbies were lined up in front of them, all just as still as his was. On the bridge in front of them, a couple of supervisors stood by a small group of ponies. John took a closer look at the ponies. They were all unicorns, with bright yellow ribbons woven into their manes and tails.

‘Construction ponies,’ John realized immediately.

Judging by the bright aura that enveloped their horns, they didn’t have magic nullifiers on them. An explanation as to why quickly presented itself, when John noticed a large metal strut that the ponies were ever so slowly levitating a few feet above the surface of the bridge. Unfortunately for John, it seemed like it would still take some time to move it all the way across.

“They are expanding the Queen Mary’s bridge sir. It’s been causing delays like this every day now for the past week,” his driver remarked when he noticed John peering out of the window. “But those little ponies are working pretty hard. At this rate, they’ll be finished before the month is over.”

“Won’t help us much now. I was hoping we’d make it to the Pony Market before the auction begins,” John noted dryly. And glanced at his watch again. It was almost five. It was pretty much guaranteed that he’d not make it there on time.

“I am sorry sir. Even with the delay, this is still the fastest route… It usually doesn’t take much longer than half an hour for the bridge to clear again. Just sit back and try to relax.”

There wasn’t much else he could do. Minutes rolled by and the cab kept moving at a snail’s pace. John tried to pass the time by writing down some notes regarding the dock shipment but quickly found that his notepad was soaking wet. At least to his relief the leather wallet he carried in his vest’s pocket was spared the worst of the rain. In it he had exactly ten pounds, fifteen shillings and eight pence. Wasn’t every day that he carried money like that around, but after entertaining the idea for some time he was finally ready to seriously try to buy a housemare.

While his business was still nowhere near as successful as he would have wished, he at least didn’t have to count every penny anymore. To top it off the house he inherited, while old, was rather large and he simply had no time to maintain any semblance of cleanliness in most of its rooms. His family used to have housemares when he was young and the few he remembered left a very good impression on him. He found it easy to imagine his own house with a housemare that would keep the place clean and have a warm meal ready for him every time he came home from work.

That is if he managed to even buy one with the money he had…

--

The promised thirty minutes turned out to be three-quarters of an hour. To John’s dismay, when he finally found himself standing in the Pony Market it seemed that he completely missed the auction… 

The large building of the Pony Market was an old exposition hall that was repurposed to host an elevated circular podium where the ponies were presented during the auction. Bellow the podium, arranged in a semi-circular formation were many worn-looking chairs for the patrons participating in the auction.

As of now that large room only had a few people milling about, most of which were seemed like staff of the auction house. Towards the back of the main room nearer to the podium John saw some more people with leashed ponies. He thought that might be a good place to go and ask if the auction was truly over, but before he could move one of the staff noticed him.

“Excuse me, sir, can I perhaps help you?” an older lady asked with a polite smile, startling John who didn’t notice her approach. 

He quickly recovered and greeted her while tipping his soggy hat: “Good afternoon madam. I was hoping to participate in the auction today, but as it would seem I missed it. Do you happen to know if there is still something scheduled for later today?”

The woman slowly shook her head: “Today it was a really small auction, sir. As I know we also don’t have anything else planned for now. In general in autumn we usually don’t get that many new ponies to begin with so auctions rarely take longer than half an hour.” 

John’s disappointment must have shown on his face as the lady quickly continued: “But you might still get lucky. I think we had one pony that didn’t sell today. Maybe try over there in the office of Mr. Smith. He should be in. Maybe he could help you.”

“I’ll go and see him at once then, thank you,” one more tip of the hat and John was off. The door that the lady had pointed him to was in the very back of the central room. Once he reached the door a small brass plate on the door that read ‘Andrew Smith – Pony Market Broker’ left little doubt that this was the right place. His quick knock on the door was almost instantly answered with a sharp ‘Come in!’

“Good afternoon, Mr. Smith I presume?”

“You presume correctly dear sir!” 

The man appeared to be middle-aged but also very lively. In two steps he was in front of him with an outstretched hand.

“John Williams, pleased to make your acquaintance Mr. Smith. Your colleague told me you might be the right person to answer any inquiries about available ponies.”

“That I sure am. Although Mr. Williams, I have to be frank that I don’t have much to offer you at the moment. In autumn the selection of ponies is never too great and what stock we have we usually sell fairly quickly.”

“Well that is most unfortunate, but still you do have something as I understand?”

“Certainly, we have exactly one pony available at the moment. So granted, not much of a selection, but if you are seriously interested we could go and take a look at her – even right now!”

‘Maybe some luck after all today,  John thought but was a little wary of the man’s eagerness.

“I am very much interested. I was actually hoping I’d make it here on time for the auction today but no such luck unfortunately. Could you tell me a little bit more about the pony? Any particular reason why she didn’t get sold? Is there anything wrong with her?”

The man’s smile faltered ever so slightly, but was back on so quickly that John wasn’t sure if he had just imagined it.

“Well, there is nothing wrong with her per se Mr. Williams. She is a young, healthy unicorn mare – a little skittish but that’s hardly abnormal. I’d hazard to guess she didn’t get sold because of her previous owner. Not sure if you’ve heard but there is a certain stigma against ponies from more… eh, how shall I put it… more rural areas. This pony in particular worked for a mining and rail company, so she doesn’t have the skill set that most would expect – say - of a housemare. On the other hand, clients that are getting ponies for industrial uses usually have their own suppliers and breeders and don’t go often visit our auction. So ponies like her unfortunately sometimes get stuck for a while.”

“I see…” John simply stated – already thinking that he’d probably have to come here again some other day. Miner mare was not exactly what he was looking for and training one from scratch sounded like way more trouble than he was willing to go through.

“Why kind of pony were you hoping to buy today sir?”

“A house mare.”

“Oh… And judging by the look on your face I discouraged you.”

“A little yes. When do you expect to get some more ponies?”

“Another small group should arrive on the weekend. We’ll for sure post an announcement in the newspaper when we have a specific date for the next auction.” John nodded. He could live without a housemare even for a couple more months if he needed. No need to jump on the first opportunity.

“But back to the mare that we have here. Are you sure that you don’t want to at the very least take a look at her? If we can agree on a price you wouldn’t even need to wait for the next auction you could take her home even today.”

“I appreciate the offer but training a housemare seems like too much of a hassle to be honest. I’d rather get some that already knows the basics at least. Also from what I’ve noticed, unicorns are often, shall we say, steeply-priced. I just need a housemare so I’d be perfectly content with an earth pony.”

Mr. Smith took a step closer to John and his smile brightened even further. “Ahh, ‘steeply-priced’… Mr Williams, does nine pounds sound overpriced to you?”

John’s was sure the surprise must have shown on his face. Nine pounds for a unicorn mare truly sounded like a bargain. Still not as cheap as an earth pony but certainly a lot better than what he’d have expected. Smith used the moment of surprise to his advantage and pushed further.

“And if I can also give you my professional opinion, I’d always prefer to buy a rural pony than a city pony. They are much more sensibly priced, significantly smarter than what most people give them credit for - certainly smart enough for basic household tasks - and they are also more loyal to their master.”

“More loyal?”

“More loyal, yes. Think of it. Their whole lives these ponies are kept in simple outdoor stables, they do hard labor day after day – how do you think they feel when they get a chance to live in a city? When they get a master that keeps them inside, who gives them good care, warm meals… Do you think a city pony would appreciate that? Rural ponies certainly do!”

John wasn’t born yesterday. He could see the man was really trying to sell him this mare in particular. But to be honest he was still thinking about the price. Nine pounds seemed way too good to pass up. He could at least take a look at the mare.

“I suppose when you put it that way… might be worth it to at least meet her.

“Splendid, come with me then. We keep the ponies in the back.”

Mr. Smith led John through a series of mostly empty hallways but it didn’t take the pair long to reach a fairly large double door. Smith promptly pulled out a brass key and unlocked the door gesturing to John to go in first.

“This whole wing is  reserved just for ponies. They have all the amenities here they could need. Water, three meals a day, even a small library for those that can read.”

“How many ponies do you usually keep here?” John asked as they passed by a handful of empty rooms. Each had a few beds and a desk but not much more.

“In the spring it gets very busy here, I think the most we’ve had here was… fifty-seven... or was it fifty-nine? I can’t remember - but something in that range. Autumn and Winter are weak though as I’ve already said. Not many people looking to buy ponies. Business slows down, breeders don’t have many fillies available… Now we only have here around a dozen per week.”

John nodded absentmindedly. So far he could see no sign of the unicorn mare. Suddenly Mr. Smith stopped in front of one of the doors that happened to be closed. His knuckles quickly rapped against the door, but he didn’t bother to wait for a reply from the inside before practically throwing the door open. As it did John’s eyes immediately fell on a small white unicorn pony. The mare’s azure eyes full of surprise immediately turned to the now open door and the two men.

In haste, she clumsily took a step back from the desk she was standing next to and awkwardly bowed to the new arrivals.

“And this is her Mr. Williams! You have to admit that most miner mares don’t look this presentable! Girl, say hello to Mr. Williams. He is looking for a housemare and I thought you might be the perfect match for him!”

“Good afternoon, mister Williams. It is a pleasure to meet you,” the pony said meekly after shooting a quick glance at John and bowed her head even lower.

“Likewise,” John added automatically.

John had to admit that Smith was right. This mare certainly had something about her. The unicorn’s coat was pristine and white like snow whereas her head was framed by a slightly shaggy-looking purple mane. His brow furrowed, however, when he noticed the magic-suppressing ring around her horn seemed to be about two sizes too small for her. Where the ring dug into her horn a webbing of cracks marred its otherwise smooth surface. John couldn’t tell how long she must’ve had it on – but judging by the damage and the fact that the very horn itself was gray or even sickly yellow in some spots it must’ve been a long time…

“As for the horn, I am sure you must’ve noticed, I assure you that it is only a cosmetic imperfection.”

Out of the corner of his eye, John noticed the pony visibly flinch, but her head remained bowed, eyes firmly fixated on the floor. John wasn’t sure how much he should believe Smith.

“We kept the suppressor on, it is the company policy, but our specialist examined her and assured me that her condition should improve when the suppressor is removed… or exchanged for a proper-sized one, if that is what you prefer.”

John nodded and turned his eyes back to the pony.

“What is your name?”

The mare lifted her gaze and her large blue eyes met his gaze again.

“They call me… Blank,” the mare replied, the last word almost a whisper.

John opened his mouth to ask why such an unusual name, but it was then that he noticed - the pony had no cutie mark. On her flank, where one would normally expect it to be there was nothing except white fur. It was clear that she was no filly and he had never seen anything like that before in a pony her age. John almost asked her about it but at the last moment, something stopped him.

The way the pony was looking at him - she must have known what he was about the ask and she braced for that question like one would for a hammer blow. Seeing that John decided it’d be best not to ask.

For the next few seconds, there was silence. John and the mare were just looking at each other. He had no idea what the pony was thinking. As for himself, he wasn’t sure what to do. Even taking a look at her was a spur-of-a-moment decision. He wanted an earth pony that could cook and clean. Here in front of him was a unicorn that most likely didn’t know how to do either and he couldn’t even be sure that she could do any magic.

Smith seemed a bit taken aback by the awkward silence. “Well, ehm…. Maybe you would like to have some time alone with her Mr. Williams? You can discuss the roles that you had in mind for her and see if she’d be a good fit,” John almost told him that there was no point in that but the mare’s blue eyes just kept attracting him like a magnet. He thought he ought to give it a chance.

“Very well. Thank you, Mr. Smith.”

“No problem whatsoever. Take as much time as you need, I’ll wait outside.”

When the door closed behind him the tense silence seemed to crawl back into the room, but John quickly found his voice again.

“So then, as Mr. Smith mentioned I am looking for a housemare. Due to my current circumstances, I find myself living in a quite spacious, but very old house that I simply have no time to maintain. Do you happen to have any experience with household chores? Cooking, cleaning… or in general any tasks related to the upkeep of a household?”

The pony’s eyes sank as she shook her head. “I am afraid not mister…”

“I suppose I am not surprised. Mr. Smith already mentioned something but what exactly was your previous role?”

“Mostly construction work sir. Hauling loads, laying tracks for the railroad, digging...” the last word she spat out in such a way that left no doubts in John’s mind how she felt about that sort of work.

“I see,” his disappointment must have snuck into his tone because the pony quickly continued.

“But I was always a very fast learner! And my previous owner said I had a very good eye for detail. I promise if you were to show me what you need you’d not be left disappointed. I know I can certainly do more than dig holes in the ground!” John inadvertently smiled when he heard the hint of zeal in Blank’s voice.

“I have to admit that at the very least it sounds like you are enthusiastic. Do you have any special skills?”

“As you can see I was not so fortunate,” Blank stated simply taking a brief glance behind at her flank. Such was the sadness in her voice that John inadvertently cursed himself for asking the question.

“I am sorry, I didn’t mean to imply... I just meant-”

“No, please don’t apologize. It is simply what it is. I still hope that maybe one day… but let us discuss something else please.”

“Very well,” the more time John spent talking with the mare the better he liked her. The rational part of him kept reminding him that she didn’t have the skills he needed., the less rational part on the other hand was impressed at how articulate and almost lady-like the pony in front of him was. On closer inspection, he could see the scuff marks on her hooves and well-toned muscles under her coat – clear signs of hard labor. She must have been subjected to. But still, she managed to hold herself with a grace that would not be out of place in any saloon.

John thought about what more he could ask her about. His eyes went to her horn. “For how long have you been wearing that magic dampener?”

Blank seemed to have been taken a little aback by the question. She looked sideways as if deep in thought. Finally, she said: “It must be over ten years now.”

“Ten years?! Your previous owner never had you perform magic?”

“I believe it was a matter of religion for him. None of the unicorns he had were allowed to cast spells,” Blank stated solemnly. Then she looked at John and almost tentatively asked: “If you bought-… If I were in your service, would you also be against me using my magic?”

“Certainly not!” John replied resolutely. “As long as you used it responsively I see no reason to hinder you from using it.”

Blank seemed pleased with his reply. They continued chatting a little while longer. Somehow naturally they started taking turns asking each other questions. Blank was curious about John’s work, his house, and her potential duties. He would in turn ask a little more about her past – although with each question he became more persuaded that Blank wanted to forget as much as she could about her past life. The answers she gave him were curt and lacked any detail, but she answered all his questions to a sufficient extent for John to make a picture.

“...in any case, after his business went bankrupt his creditors sold off his possessions and that was how I found myself here,” Blank finished the brief recollection and John nodded understandingly. 

For a moment there was silence again.

“Thank you for your time, Blank,” John said finally. “I think I’ve heard all I needed to. However just before I talk to Mr. Smith I have one more question and I’d appreciate it if you could answer completely honestly.”

“Very well. I shall try,” Blank said hesitantly and her eyes narrowed a little.

“After our brief discussion, do you think you’d wish to be in my service?”

Upon hearing the question Blank visibly relaxed and a gentle smile spread on her muzzle. “If first impressions are anything to go by Mr. Smith I’d say you seem like a proper gentleman. If you’d have me I’d happily serve as your housemare.”

“Very well then,” John matched her smile with his own. “Then let me see if that can be arranged.”