Time Changes All

R I X E N Upon the echo of my voice reaching his ears, the stranger looked up in my direction. He stopped walking, but other than that, had no visible reaction to the sight of me. My appearance was unique, however I would not say that I was particularly interesting looking. By the looks of me it was evident that I was not from the Rift. I had no neon colors, no sharp teeth, no scales, no extra appendages. As he turned toward me, the dust-colored stallion's expression was neither eager nor shy. He just kind of blinked at me indifferently from where he stood. Though I noticed this, it did not deter me from approaching him, instead his apparent lack of interest was quickly dismissed. Taking my time, I continued to approach him at a leisurely pace, only coming to a halt when close enough to talk without having to shout. The stallion didn't say much in the way of a response to my greeting. Not that I really expected to much after the way he reacted to seeing me there. When at last my hooves ceased to move and I stood directly before the stranger, I gave the stallion a nod in greeting. My emerald gaze examined him more closely, now that I could clearly make out his features. I wasn't really weirded out by his name. Everyone I'd encountered in the Rift had peculiar names, and I am sure that they must have thought the same of mine. Still, I was curious as to why that was his name. Had he chosen it? Or did his mother really name him Watcher? Despite the content of my words, my vocals rang with a warm tone. "Watcher? That's an interesting name." I only hinted that I might like to know more about it, but refrained from asking the question verbatim. I was about to say something else, but not before realizing that I hadn't properly introduced myself. And so I gave him my name, even though he didn't ask for it. A reticent one, this stallion was. "I'm Rixen. It's nice to meet you."  Realizing I would need to say something more to kindle a conversation, and also genuinely interested in hearing his response, I added, "Halyven is really something, wouldn't you agree? I came here to study the ruins. What brings you to these parts?" My emerald gaze departed from the stallion, sweeping across the ruins beside us. A short distance away lay the largest spire, the only spire that still stood. The rest had since been destroyed. Every time I came back, I always liked to picture what Halyven must have been like.  Halyven must have been glorious once - a metropolis of stone and craftsmanship. I could almost hear the pleasant cheers and bustling in the streets lined by a maze of steadfast walls. Each stone once positioned perfectly in its place to form towers that reached for the sky, rather than crumbling from the top down, giving the impression of disheveled party hats. Such days I never saw.  That single, pointed spire was the only complete thing that remained. It stood in spite of itself, defying gravity in its precarious way. Everything else in the city had worn and crumbled, their decay the only marker if time in a place of uncounted days. Light danced off of the grey stones, casting them in a silvery glow, illuminating the ruins, precious secrets of the Rift. Weather-worn stone pillars surrounded by dead clumps of grass were scattered here and there. Half-crumbled buildings lined what could have once been streets, but were now rows of cracked blocks and stones broken up by meandering tree roots. When neither one of us was speaking, the city was silent save for the whistling sound created by wind slipping through the stone corridors, weaving between the crumbling spires.   "Talk." they heard me singing and they told me to stop quit these pretentious things and just punch the clock

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