Written by: Lapison
Pain. A throbbing, insistent thing intent on destroying any thought that tries to assert itself in my mind. It’s my world right now. All I can think about is that burning sensation that flows through my body.
It’s a familiar feeling. I’ve experienced it too much for it to surprise me anymore. If you’re like me, you have to endure it. You can cry. You can beg for it to stop. You can even try to stop it yourself. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that life doesn’t stop to hear your complaints. Better to grit my teeth and soldier on.
Besides, it’s unbecoming of me to succumb this easily to limits like these. What would my mother think of me if I didn’t push on? What would my family think of me? As trite as it seems, never give up has become a favorite saying of mine.
And I don’t intend to give up.
I breathe slowly, gathering myself. I try to drive the pain away through sheer will, internalizing it and breaking it down. It works, to a degree. The pulsing ache seems to fade just enough for me to think, though it’s like wading through a hazy fog thicker than pea soup. I focus on my heart beating as I try to shut out my shrieking limbs. I reach for the threads just beyond my thoughts.
Lub-dub. Forget. Lub-dub. Abandon.
Heal.
The magic comes as I cast one of the most basic spells that I’ve memorized: a simple painkiller. It’s not much, but it’s saved me too many times to count. The spell washes over me, eroding the agony that spreads throughout my body. It can’t end the pain. I know that for a fact. But it’ll allow me to function long enough for me to get my bearings.
And right now, that’s the most important thing. Common sense finally pushes through the fog in my head: When I’m in pain, usually it’s because something bad has happened. If I’m waking up to something like this, it’s because whatever happened hurt me enough for my emergency wards to kick in and send me into unconsciousness.
And if my emergency wards kicked in...that means any other spells I was casting were interrupted.
My breathing suddenly seizes up, and suddenly I’m dizzy, even while my eyes are closed. Oh, no...I scrabble for the spell that’s my lifeline, frantically trying to cast it before my end arrives. Usually, it’s not hard to create this spell’s structure. It’s usually second nature to me. I’ve had to recreate it since I could walk, due to a disorder I’ve carried since birth.
But then again, usually I don’t have a foggy mind hindering me and pain racking my body.
I’m almost done casting it when my mind registers that somepony’s walking above me. Don’t come down. Not yet. You can’t see me like this. I am not helpless. I am not a cripple.
But I am helpless, so long as my lifeline hasn’t been cast. If that spell isn’t around me, then I can’t move. It’s a...crutch, of sorts. It helps me to get around. If it’s not up…
No. I refuse to allow that to happen. I finally reach the last part of the spell, which is always the hardest. Imagine a kaleidoscope, if you will. Fragments of glass are scattered around the mirrored bottom, and it’s impossible to tell which of the images is real, and which is fake.
Imagine looking at that, and then choosing one particular shard and plucking it from the well, all in one smooth motion.
It’s almost impossible to do without focus. The image is duplicated and distorted from reality, skewing your aim, and more often than not, the piece of glass you pull out isn’t the one you wanted.
But my life depends on me successfully casting this spell. I cannot afford to fail.
And as I release the magic again, my lips curl up in a thin smile as I feel the spell wash over me, coating my entire body. It buffers my limbs, lending strength to them. Or at least I like to think it does.
I stagger upright on my newfound strength, using a convenient wall behind me for support. My limbs shriek in pain, as does...my back? My spine seems to have shooting pains as well. That’s unexpected. I...there’s no reason that my back should hurt. I’m not a pegasus. Only pegasi would hurt their back from lying on a hard stone floor like I was; their wings get cramps, which affect their back muscles. For now, I’ll just dismiss the strange back pains as an anomaly.
Now that my link to life is established, I decide to take a look around. My eyes scan the room I’m in multiple times as my semiconscious brain tries to piece together my surroundings.
The room is dark and cool. Perfect for a hangover, or someplace to hide away from the world. It’s made of stone; not too surprising, since almost every building in this world is made out of wood, stone, and grass. A lone stairway leads upward, which means that there’s only one entrance (or exit). What is surprising is the barrels lining the walls. It’s obviously some type of beverage storage place, but I don’t remember coming down here.
Come to think of it, even though the fog is beginning to clear from my head, last night seems strangely fuzzy. Just what happened last night? Where...where am I? Questions begin to flood into my mind, clamoring for attention.
But I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it. First things first: let’s see if I can move in a straight line.
Two shaky steps later, my face plants itself in the ground. So much for that idea. At least I moved relatively steadily. I clench my teeth and get back up.
As the seconds pass while I regain my sense of balance, I hear the pony upstairs again. They don’t seem to know that I’m down here; otherwise, they probably would have sent somepony down to check on me. Or maybe...maybe they don’t own the place? Great, another question I have to ponder.
I try walking again; this time, my target is the barrel three steps away. I reach it with only a bit of swaying. Good.
Maybe there was a subconscious reason that I chose the barrel for my target; my brain abruptly informs me that my mouth is parched, dry as the desert near Appleloosa. My stomach joins the rebellion, moaning for food...
Wait...no, that’s a bad simile. Dodge Junction would be better.
Either way, I decide to quench my thirst from this barrel. My mind might be clearer if I drink something cold. I levitate the top off the barrel, placing it gently to one side. No need to alert the owners to my presence just yet; I don’t want to worry them. I prepare myself for the aroma of grapes or berries, but I don’t smell anything. Curious. I take a tentative sip of the liquid and feel cool, refreshing water slip down my throat...
Water? I’m not complaining or anything...but water? Are all the barrels here filled with water? Why would somepony store water in a room that looks like a wine cellar?
It doesn’t matter. Actually, this is better than I expected. In hindsigh–heh, so recently and I’m using hindsight– I realize that drinking wine might not have been the best choice. I was willing to take that risk if it meant that I could think more clearly after something cold, but with water, there isn’t any risk. Plus, given my current state of mind, I really don’t need to get drunk.
Unfortunately, it isn’t any substitute for food. But I can ignore hunger; it’s a secondary need to my thirst. I disregard it for now.
I dunk my head into the barrel, gulping down as much as I can. My mind clears as the cold water cuts through the rest of the fog like a hot knife through butter. But with clarity comes more questions.
If this place isn’t a wine cellar, then I couldn’t have been hungover. However, alcohol would have been the best explanation for why I woke up in an unfamiliar setting. Now I have to answer that question as well.
It seems as if my memory can’t answer anything pertaining to last night. It remains fuzzy and unknown, even after the quick bath. An epiphany strikes me: any conclusions I’ve drawn might not be correct; I have to start from scratch if I’m to have any hope of finding out just what happened.
With that thought in mind, I decide to crack open a few more barrels. The second and third contain water again, but the fourth contains a potent moonshine concoction; it doesn’t smell like anything, but the sip I take burns my tongue and tastes of elderberries. I’m dizzy from just imbibing a bit of it.
Well, that might answer one of my questions. This place is a wine cellar; the water is used to dilute the strong wines that are stored here. If this is a wine cellar...this building I’m in is probably Canterlot Castle.
A host of new questions spring up in place of the old. If this is Canterlot Castle, what am I doing here? How did I get into this wine cellar? Does Celestia know I’m here? Does anypony?
But that’s one question down. Maybe I can answer a few more...if I play my cards right. It’s time to get some other opinions on what happened last night.
I have to think this through though. If I surprise the occupants of this place, most likely they’ll clam up and not tell me anything. And if this is Canterlot Castle, chances are they’re going to wonder how in Celestia’s name a unicorn got past all the royal guards.
I need a story to explain how I got here. Or at least an excuse to have come here and gotten past the guards at the front gate. But one thing’s for sure. I have no excuse for languishing in a wine cellar. It’s high time I got the buck out of here.
I reel back through my memories, searching for a modification to my lifelink spell that I haven’t used since foalhood. It was taught to me by my mother, who noticed I was getting bullied and had me learn it for self-defense. As I remember the exact formulation, I smile. It’s always a pleasure to remember something long forgotten. I make the necessary changes.
My body begins to fade from sight. First my hooves disappear. My chest, haunch and withers vanish next. The last thing to go are my eyes.
For sneaking around and evasion, this little gem’s unparalleled. The magic itself is undetectable, since even a spell can’t detect it. The only way that somepony can detect me is if they bump into me, or if they detect that something in the environment is off. It’s not an invisibility spell though; my mother drummed that into my head so many times. It’s a chameleon spell. I can still be spotted if I move too fast. Moving also drains my energy, since the spell has to change to my surroundings. It doesn’t mask sound, erase hoofsteps, or hide shadows.
But I’ve never been caught using this spell, and I certainly don’t intend to get caught using it now. With the changes in place, I climb the stairs carefully—thank Celestia that nopony decided to come down while I was out, that would have been a disaster—and step out into a hallway lined with windows. Celestia’s sun shines through the glass a bit too much for my liking; the shadow I cast will be obvious. But I have no choice.
And why...why does my back still hurt? Stars above, I’m a unicorn! I shouldn’t hurt this badly! There has to be some other reason...I flick back through my lessons on the physiology of ponies, searching for….
Wait. I know about physiology? Back up. I freeze in place, considering the facts that my mind just presented.
I’m a unicorn...with a knowledge of physiology. I’m in Canterlot Castle...presumably, that means I live or work near here...so...that doesn’t make sense. How would I know about Dodge Junction...wait, never mind, that works...hmmm…Oh. That should have been obvious. I wonder why I didn’t pick up on it sooner. No matter. I remember now.
With that little thing out of the way, I notice a room that seems to be open. Even better, I can hear breathing inside it.
Breathing means other ponies. Other ponies mean answers.
And answers are what I crave at the moment. I quickly and meaningfully cross the hall, ignoring the shadows and sounds that my crossing makes. I also ignore the drain on my magic, though I know that I should probably watch how much I use.
I walk into a ballroom that’s been turned into the aftermath of a manticore rampage. Spilled drinks all over the floor. Ponies passed out here and there. Food scattered across the tables. Tipped over chairs and shattered vases.
In other words, a perfect cover story. I relax my camouflage, allowing the modifications I made to my lifelink to dissipate. I think I’m safe here. My stomach complains again, but I ignore the gurgles that it makes.
I walk over to the nearest pony, a mare with a pale aquamarine coat and a (for lack of a better word) minty mane. She’s out like a light, but that doesn’t faze me; I have ways to help those who are disabled. My magic activates again, a gentle green aura descending on the patient.
The poor mare splutters a bit as my spell takes effect, followed by moans; it’s not the most gentle of awakenings, but it does the trick. “Wh-whuh…?”
“Shhhhh…” I coax. “Wake up, wake up…”
I slowly help her up to a sitting position. She opens her eyes and stares at me blankly. “Where...where did you come from?” I have no idea what she sees; does she see a cool and collected stallion? A ruffled mare? An unkempt young colt?
Best to start paying attention to myself. “I was called here around midnight. Something about a wild party and passed out ponies, vomiting, the works.” My voice rolls out gently and quietly, but firmly. It’s clearly a stallion’s voice; somepony who knows what he’s doing and how to do it. I’m a professional.
She perks up. “Oh, you’re a doctor? Were you here last night?”
“Yes. You may call me Bones.” My name leaps to my lips as if it were natural to me, and why wouldn’t it be? Time to take a gamble though; if this works, it’ll serve to ingratiate me into her memories of last night, and possibly get her to open up. “I’m with Canterlot Medical; the receptionist said that there needed to be somepony on site in case the humungous parties ended up with a few wounds. I drew the short straw, so I was stationed here. I have to admit though, I wasn’t the most diligent of ponies; I fell asleep in that corner over there.” I gesture to an arbitrary nook of the room that was empty.
Her brow furrows. “I never heard anything about doctors being stationed at parties.”
Ah. Well, that didn’t turn out as well as I’d expected. Still, could’ve been worse; I could have guessed that this was Manehattan, or that the local hospital was called UCanterlot. “Well...you see, Miss…” I demur, stalling for a bit of time.
“Heartstrings. Lyra Heartstrings.” She seems to be speaking softly, almost as if she didn’t want to disturb the sleeping ponies around her. Hmm...wine...soft speaking...disorientation. My horn lights up again, this time with a more intense green.
“Please stay still, Miss Heartstrings.”
“Wha-what are you doing?” There’s a hint of distrust in her voice. Maybe she noticed that I changed the subject. If so, she’s an astute thinker; if she’s not lucid, that’s even worse, because this spell will clear her mind. And I can’t end it now, so let’s just roll with it.
“I’m using a spell of my own devising.” I couldn’t resist puffing out my chest a little at that statement. “It reduces the effects of hangovers, which is what I think you’re suffering from. Now, hold still please.”
“Urgh. Could you…” Lyra’s eye’s widen slightly as my spell took effect. “Oh. Oh wow.”
“Helpful, I presume?” I meet her eyes, and she actually manages to focus on me.
“Yes, much! Thank you. Um…” She shuffles about uncomfortably. “So, did you see what...what happened last night?”
Excellent. I’ve won her trust with that little miracle of mine. Now the hook. “I didn’t. I was hoping you could tell me, seeing as I was passed out in that little corner for most of the night.”
“Nothing much!” She says it just a bit too quickly. In other words: liar. I couldn’t say that out loud though; that would have been much too blatant.
“Lyra, I’m not a policepony or a Royal Guard. I’m not going to turn you in for something you did. Plus, I actually have a reason behind this. I need to perform triage, and I can’t tell if some of these ponies took a bash to the head that I didn’t see.” It sounds fancy, coming out of my mouth.
That’s one of the downsides of my lifelink spell; it forces a slight disconnect between my actions and thoughts. Sometimes, it feels as if I’m watching another pony that’s not me. It’s so easy to just…put myself on autopilot.
But whatever I said, it must have made sense, because Lyra seems to buy it. “Fine...I believe you. But there really isn’t much to it. I got invited to a party with Bon-Bon, my close friend. We came here. Turns out it was a couple’s party, some sort of ‘New Year’s Resolution’. It was awkward at first. We had matching invitations and everything too; it’s like Celestia meant for this to happen. But then...”
Something about the way she trails off set my imagination aflame. And I now have a sneaking suspicion about just what really happened.
“And everypony had sex, am I right?” I state it bluntly. Best to just get that heavy beast out of the way.
“What?! No! No!” Lyra laughs a tad nervously. “Um...OK, maybe. Not really. Kinda.”
I tip my head to one side. “You’ll have to excuse me if I don’t really follow.”
“So...it was a couple’s party. And some of the couples got a little raunchy.” Lyra blushes as she says it.
“Ah. So, most ponies had sex.”
“Um...I’d call it half and half.”
“And the other half?”
“Some of us slow danced...a few of us made out. The rest of us just...it was a normal party, y’know?” Lyra was avoiding the subject of her and Bon-Bon, but hey, patient confidentiality, right? Whatever that means.
But that’s what happened last night. A really raunchy party. Ooooookay. Now that I’ve got answers, I want desperately to leave. But something...some deeper instinct stops me. Something...something that I had to do?
I grudgingly admit that as a doctor, I should be helping everypony. I decide to get my job over with.
“Miss Heartstrings?” Lyra turns her head toward me. “Are some couples still here?” I tiptoe around the delicate subject, but my meaning is clear.
Lyra’s eyes light up with recognition. “Oh, yes. They should be in the private chambers right off from here.”
“Well then. I’m going to go wake up the lovebirds. I’ll teach you the revival and hangover spells, and you can wake up everyone in here, m’kay?”
Lyra seems quite...enthusiastic about that. “Okay! Let’s go!”
After I teach her the spell—or at least I think I did—I go into the first room. An alabaster unicorn is sleeping soundly with a charcoal earth pony. Both seem happy and content...and it’s like their joy, their bond, it’s... I stand still for a few heartbeats, uncertain as to what this means. And it’s here that I finally make some sense out of this entire scenario.
The back pains. My understanding of physiology. My green magic. It all clicks. And with that all comes my most vital revelation.
I extend my magic once more, going back to a spell that’s even more fundamental to me than my lifelink. I again focus in on my heart, but for entirely different reasons.
Lub-dub. Remember. Lub-dub. Return.
Feed.
As I take in just barely under the noticeable amount, a memory springs back to me…the reason why I did this...
We had managed to create a new safe area, south of Canterlot. But...my survivors were dying. Of hunger. Of fear. Of loss of faith in our way of life.
We were so close to having it all...and all foiled, smashed to pieces. By the one thing we needed most.
We needed love to feed. But it was love that crippled us.
I knew I could rebuild. I knew that I could wait.
But I knew equally well that my family could not. They were helpless, starving. They were loyal to me, and at such a cost. Many wondered whether I led them to a massacre.
I would not let my subjects, my family, die. I would not abandon them. I would serve them as they had served me: faithfully, honorably, and dutifully.
So when rumors of a party held at Canterlot Castle with veritable mountains of love reached my ears, with enough to feed my family for a decade at least...well, how could I say no?
I was a fool. I thought I could soldier on, weather the pain and the hunger just long enough for the payback. I was wrong.
I left Haven a few hours before the party was due to start. I insisted that my family take almost all of what I had; I assured them that I would be fine.
I managed to sneak into the castle. It wasn’t hard. I simply disguised myself as a royal guard off duty, and then bluffed that I was the off shift for one of the guards. Poor stallions were probably dying of boredom and longing for a few drinks, so I gave them a reprieve. Once they came back and found I was still there, it was child’s play to convince them to let me in.
But I couldn’t find the room that housed the ball. I searched ever so long for it...I walked through corridors, up and down stairs, looked into every room...the castle was a maze to me. I never remembered it being so hard to navigate.
When I finally did find what I sought, I was weak from lack of sleep, continuous use of magic, and hunger. I was in no shape to march in and absorb energy; my aura was flickering feebly, and I knew that soon, I would end up consuming myself, the only source of food left for me.
The sweet sounds of love, of joy, the treasure that I had sought....so close, and yet so far away. It was taunting me...I thought I had failed.
Luckily, I had always prepared for eventualities like this; my emergency spells would fill my stomach with a reserve of love sealed deep within me, and pack me off to sleep to regenerate my magic. What I barely realized in time was that when they activated, they would destroy any chance I had of defending myself.
I managed to crawl down into an adjacent storeroom, as black waves lapped against my vision. I couldn’t have cared less where I was; all I knew was that it was quiet, dark, and it was better than the hallway. As soon as I slumped down, sleep overcame me.
So that’s what happened last night, actually. Luckily, the aftermath of this party seems to be...rather prevalent. I can gather all the love I need. My family will feed again. I almost cry from the sheer relief. That I’ve done my duty, done what I needed to.
Well, everything except the loose ends. I cast the spells I need to, and as I leave, I hear a soft groan as the charcoal mare begins to stir.
I quickly slip into a routine: drain, cast, leave. It’s also probably good for my image; Lyra’s still awake in there, and she’s waking up more and more ponies. It’ll make it easier to pass myself off as one of them.
My wings and legs are sore though; I probably won’t be able to gallop or fly for a few days. But that’s no big issue; with this much love, I can teleport and still not be fazed. And as I go through the last of my motions, I see a crowd of ponies beginning to coalesce in the main ballroom. Time to use them to my advantage.
I walk into the crowd, easily switch my voice from the cool professional tones I was just using and call out, “Hey, let’s get the buck outta here!”
Oh, it’s all too easy to take control of the mob. And as they begin to move, looking for the exit, I smile.
Today, we shall feed. Today, we shall recover. Today, we shall be reborn. Today, we shall discover ourselves again.
Today, it’s a new year. And I intend to make the most of it. For I am Queen Chrysalis, and I will succeed against all odds.
Never back down. Never cower in fear. Never give up.