• Published 22nd Jun 2012
  • 6,820 Views, 341 Comments

Elements of Insanity - Emeral Bookwise



Lunaverse; Twilight plans to prove herself superior to Trixie by forming her own Elements of Harmony

  • ...
16
 341
 6,820

Chapter 2: "Faithful and Strong"

The stallion floated through a dark void. It was vast, cold and empty. He liked the void. There was no screaming here.

Yes, this is where he belonged, beyond the baleful cries of anguish and suffering. Here he could simply let go, abandon himself to oblivion.

Something bright came into existence in the distance like a newborn star. Its glare stirred and roused the stallion.

What?

No!

There wasn't supposed to be anything here; just emptiness, a place where he could suffer for his sins in lonely isolation.

There was also a sound, a voice, calling out to him.

No, no, NO!

Why couldn't the world just go away? He didn't want to be part of it any more. There was too much pain, too much suffering.

He fell. The void possessed no up, no down, and yet he fell. The sudden feeling of vertigo was just as quickly replaced by surge of moisture as he crashed into an unseen ocean.


The stallion coughed up water as the world exploded back into existence around him. His eyes burned from the light and his head felt like it wanted to implode. He pressed his hooves to the side of his aching skull, whether to massage away the pain, or to aid in crushing the offending body part he wasn't quite sure.

Where was he? As he brought a hoof over to shield his still adjusting eyes from the harsh light, he could make out what looked to be the alleyway behind the local tavern. As he smacked his lips he could still taste the lingering remnants of salted ale. No doubt the proprietor had thrown him back here after having passed out.

What he couldn't figure out was why he was soaking wet. His hazy vision couldn't actually make out the sky above, but by the amount of light he could already tell the day was bright and sunny.

"Ah good, you're awake!"

There it was again, that same voice that had disturbed him in the void. He could hear it clearly now, well, as clearly as he could hear anything over the ringing in his ears. He could also see its source, sort of.

A vaguely pony-like shape stood over him, a mare, if his ears could be trusted to judge pitch in his current state. Probably a unicorn too, as she appeared to be levitating what looked like a bucket.

"Go away," he muttered as he clenched his eyes shut in a vain attempt to summon the void. He'd spent nearly every bit he had left to reach oblivion this last time; what was he going to do now?

"Actually, I really need your help."

Help? Ha! That was a laugh.

"Sorry, you got the wrong pony for that, miss…?" his rebuke trailed off into a question as he realized he had no clue who he was talking to. Not that he should really care about such things anymore. All he wanted was to be left alone to wallow in his own misery.

"…" the mare seemed hesitant to reply, but finally, "My name is Twilight Sparkle, and I think we can both be a great help to each other, Sheriff Silverstar."


A light brown head plunged into the water. It was cool and refreshing, better still, it muffled all the noise of the world. It reminded Silverstar of the void. He briefly considered just leaving his head submerged beneath the rippling surface; to put a final end to it all, but at the heart of things he was still the same coward he had always been.

The stallion pulled his head from the trough and took in a mighty gasp of air. He shook the water from his coat and dark brown mane, giving his even darker mustache a twitch to shake loose any last remnants. As his brain returned to a somewhat conscious functionality, he turned to contemplate the mare that had dragged him back to the life he'd been so desperately trying to escape.

She had a fairly average build. Her coat was a shade of lavender and her dark blue mane was neatly trimmed though with a vibrant strip of purple and pink down the middle. He couldn't make out her cutie mark, hidden as it was beneath a light brown burlap cloak. Actually, to call it a cloak was a bit generous, it was more like a hastily cut potato sack that had been tied off with a bit of worn rope. Why she would bother with such a garment in this heat was beyond him, but he wasn't the type to pry, even before he gave up caring about the world.

What fixed his attention the most though was her eyes; a rich purple, and while she clearly tried to present an air of confidence, he could see a deep sadness underneath it all. He wondered briefly what had caused her such pain and what he could do to take it all away. No, that was the old Silverstar, the one that actually gave a damn about other ponies.

Still, she was kind of cute. Maybe it was just the hangover mugging up his vision, but if he were a younger stallion he might— He shook his head and once again tried to remind himself how there was nothing left for him to hope for, least of all some filly who was almost young enough to be his daughter.

He straightened his dust worn blue vest and the red bandana around his neck, before picking up his black stetson and placing it back atop his head. He then turned to face her proper "Alright then, Miss Sparkle. What exactly is it ya' want and what makes ya' think a bloke like me would be any help?"

"Well, Sheriff Silverstar, I—"

"Just Silverstar please," he interrupted, "I ain't a proper sheriff no more, not without a town to be sheriff of."

"Right, that's actually sort of why I'm here. You see—"

"Look, I'm sorry if'n you lost any kinfolk out there. I..." he hesitated, swallowing hard before continuing, "I did my damn best to get everypony I could out safely. I know that must be poor consolation an' I'd rightly understand if'n you felt like taking a buck upside my face. You wouldn't be the first, and you probably won't be the last either."

With that said, he just stood there. He didn't flinch or in any way seem to ready himself for the assault he'd just permitted. He was a bad pony, he deserved to suffer, and this filly deserved to have full at him.

"That's not at all why I'm here. I don't think any of my family have even ever been anywhere near the frontier reaches, most of them live in Latigo after all, and—" this time she shut herself up, all but cramming a hoof into her own mouth, before glancing about nervously as though she'd just said too much.

Silverstar only shrugged. If there was something in the young mare's past she didn't want to talk about, well, he certainly wouldn't pry. He just wished she'd go away and do him the same favor.

"Alright, fine. So if'n you're not here to take your piece o' me, then what possible reason could you have fer comin' here and dredgin' up my past?" His voice began to rise with more irritation than he intended, but he was hardly in much condition to practice proper self-restraint, "You one of them punks that gets off on laughin' on poor washed up gutter trash! Does that make ya' feel like a big shot! Like your own life isn't so miserable!"

The young mare backed up with each exclamation, "I... I..." Silverstar pressed forwards; he hated ponies that got their jollies by kickin' others when they were down. Sure he deserved it, but that was no reason to excuse such behavior. Then he looked into her eyes again. They were darting rapidly from side to side, clearly frightened of what he might do, but there was something more too.

She was starting to cry.

Aw haystacks! he thought. He'd done it again. He'd let his temper take charge, and now he'd made the young lass cry. He felt like even more of a monster than usual, and while he deserved to feel that way, she certainly didn't deserve to suffer for it. He'd have to give himself a few good licks for that little outburst, later though. Right now, he had a mess to clean up.

He reached up a hoof to wipe away the moisture that had been forming at the corners of her eyes, "Hush now there," he soothed. "It'll be alright. Now why don't you just tell this ol' washed up has-been just what it is you need help with. I can't make no promises, but if'n it'll make you feel better, then the least I can do is listen."

She sniffled as she brought her downtrodden gaze up to match his. "I'm in trouble... a lot of trouble, and well... I need a group of five ponies to help me out of it, and... and I was hoping you could be one of them."

He wondered what kind of trouble she was in that she'd need that kind of help with, and why five exactly. He briefly recalled that time so many years ago when he'd been part of a group of seven— No, that was the old Silverstar, an arrogant youth who thought such exploits would be magnificent. It had been a whole other life time ago, a life that belonged to a naive fool that had ignorantly confused a lack of fear for bravery.

Even as he tried banishing those memories, Silverstar found himself wishing he'd had some of those comrades with him more recently. Maybe things wouldn't have turned out so badly if— No, better that he bear the burden of that atrocity alone. Besides, none of that made a lick of difference now.

"Fine, so you need help. Why me?" He tried to be kind, but he saw her flinch at the bite of his words.

"We'll," she started nervously, "I read about how you risked your life and courageously defended that whole town and—"

"T'wern't courage, I was there, ponies were in trouble. I did what I had to do, nothin' more nothin' less."

Now that nervous edge seemed to bleed away as her eyes came alight, "But that's exactly what I need. You stood fast when others fled. You risked life and limb to save as many innocents as you could. You showed that singular most important quality I need from you: Loyalty."

Loyalty, now wasn't that a laugh.

"Little miss, let me tell you somethin' plain an' simple like. T'was just a job. I was there because the Apple Trust hired me to keep the peace, and so that's what I did. I had a contract, an obligation, and I've never been a pony to back out on my word. A promise is a promise, and come noon high sun or windigos' frost I always keep mine."

At what cost though?

The screams of the ponies he failed to save were bad enough. But it was the screams of the other side that truly haunted his soul. They hadn't been villains, only natives trying to reclaim the land they felt stolen from them. That hadn't mattered then though. Silverstar played his part, did what he had to. Now all that was left for him was to carry the pain of that sin till the day the final end that awaited all ponies blessed him with a more permanent void in which to lose himself.

"But you still helped them," she pleaded, "It's what you do. It's your job, it's your name, it's your special talent."

Silverstar looked back at the cutie mark that reflected its owner's name. He'd long since discarded the badge he used to wear on his vest. He'd torn the thing away with such violent fervor that it had left a jagged hole in the garment. He liked that hole; it mirrored the one in his heart.

The badge he wore on his flank though, well, that was another matter. It was the one indelible reminder of the pony he used to be. He'd often thought of taking hot iron to it and burning the offending brand away, but that wouldn't solve the real problem. No, he could live with the visual reminder of his discarded past. The pain it caused him to look upon his own flank really was another torment he deserved.

It was that niggling sensation in the back of his skull that he couldn't endure. That was the part of him he truly sought to drown away in the oblivion of the void. All the terrible crimes he'd committed in the name of justice, he could live with those. The screams were horrible to remember, but it was what he deserved.

What he couldn't tolerate, what he had to be rid of, was that somewhere deep down inside he was still possessed by that same fiery passion to protect other ponies. A passion that still burned every bit as fiercely as the day his destiny had first made itself manifest. Worst of all though, following that call still brought him the purest of joys, a joy he no longer deserved.

"So then, will you help me; will you promise?"

There it was, that niggle that ached to be scratched. Would he help her? Could he really let himself give into that temptation?

Silverstar looked into the mare's pleading eyes, eyes that held his damnation. He'd rather go to the surface of the sun itself and look its blazing queen straight into her empty soulless eyes than fill this pitiable young mare's own with even an ounce more of sorrow and disappointment. Every fiber of his being ached telling —no— demanding of him what action he must take.

And so he made his decision, Luna curse him for a thousand years, but it was the only choice he could make.



Author's Note:

• Proof reading by LDLUYAB and Mally