Throwing Away the Sun – Part 1 of Poor Company
Every time I enter a city, heads turn, ponies step out of the way, others lurk from their windows, and whispers hover in the air. That's just how things are. Everypony knows what I look like, but (hesitantly I'll add) I'm not the only unicorn with my magnificent coat, nor am I the only one with my beautiful mane.
But why are they so interested? Well, that isn't a very hard question. I am the only unicorn who has ever single-handedly vanquished an Ursa Major.
'Such power is something to praise, but also to be wary of,' or so I've heard. As if I believe that—with power comes fame, and with fame comes success. But sometimes you have to make sacrifices for that fame.
And so here I am. Standing in the grandest of cities, suitable for even my tastes, waiting. This all because of a request by a possible client—the irritating part being: this client has felt inclined to tell me nothing! He—she?—w