One Way

by jroddie

60: Grave

Chapter 60

There was an enormous flash of white light. I was blind- All I could see was the white. I stumbled, trying to find out what was going on. I could hear screams and shouts, feel warm splashes on my skin. I got a mouthful of something, and it tasted like iron. I tried to spit it out, but it stuck on my tongue. I flailed around, trying to get my sight back and get my bearings. Something hard hit my head, and all of the white turned to black.

I blinked. I had a weird view of the carpet. It was like a wall. It took me a moment to realize that I was lying on it. I lied there on the carpet, thinking for a moment. I pushed myself up to my feet, looking around. Most of the throne room was untouched, but the blood started a few feet away from me. It started out splotchy and random, but then it started to form patterns. Long lines of red striped the carpet, with the occasional shoeprint. My eyes wandered closer to the table, closer to where Othello was when he touched the sword. A stray limb, a decapitated head, a truncated corpse. The bodies piled up eventually into an actual pile, with its peak located where the table was. It stood a little higher than I did. I looked up at the peak with awe. Not because of the insane violence that it took to create it, but because of who was standing up there. Othello stood at the top of the pile, panting and holding an Angelic up in one hand and the sword in the other. The sword. Othello’s sung sword. It shone with blood. Othello himself was thoroughly splattered, with his right hand looking completely painted, tapering off as his arm led to his shoulder. He looked much less pudgy than the Othello that I picked up. His turtleneck was slashed open across the chest, revealing flat abs. I looked up at him silently as he looked up at the Angelic

“Please, We didn’t know! Don’t-” The Angelic pleaded, but Othello swung his sword up and speared the Angelic with it. The sword entered through his stomach and exited through the gap between its collarbone and its neck. I gasped, surprised by the suddenness of the action. One moment, Othello was holding a living Angelic, and the next he was holding a kabob. He released the corpse, letting it slide off of his sword. He jumped lithely from the pile he made. I stumbled, unconsciously trying to get away from him. He landed as quietly as possible on the tips of his toes. I could see three parallel slashes on his chest as he was walking toward me. He waved his free hand over his chest and the gouges slowly turned back into regular skin. I paled. I fell over backwards, landing hard on the carpet. I held up my gun and pointed it at Othello.

“Please, Othello. Don’t come any closer.” I whispered, trying to hold myself together. Othello stopped in his tracks, surprised. He held his free hand up to his chest, holding it there as if to lend credence to the fact that he was real.

“Edwin, it’s me. Othello.” He assured, taking another step closer. I pointed the gun right above Othello’s head and pulled the trigger. There was a slight hum, and then there was a perfectly square hole in the wall behind the throne. Othello turned to look at the damage. He turned back to me, and I turned back to him, swiveling the gun so it was pointing to his head. Othello looked shocked.

“Please.” I whispered. Othello opened his mouth to say something, but only a hideously loud roar came out. I nearly bit my tongue off. The roar shook me down to my bones. I dropped the gun, trying to find the noise. Othello looked up at the ceiling with a snarl. “What was that!?” I shouted. Othello spat on the ground.

“I hate dragons.” He growled. He waved his free hand over the bank of stained glass windows. The priceless art shattered and blew out, leaving the colored glass to tumble down the cliffs. I could see the dragon flapping his wings far, far away. His slender body and limbs slid through the air, with the occasional flap keeping him into the sky. I felt my breath halt in my chest and my blood run cold. I gulped. It was a dragon. An Angelic dragon. I couldn’t even fight one while I was a pony, let alone now. I looked back to Othello. He looked back at me.

“Want to kill it?” He asked, enthusiastic. I blanched.

“I think that I’d rather stay alive.” I said, shocked. He laughed.

“Do you still have that suit?” He asked. I blanked.

“I really don’t want to.” I said breathlessly. Othello shrugged.

“More for me, then.” He said. He suddenly broke into a sprint, racing toward the windows. He bounded lithely through the broken frames. I rushed over to the windows, nearly leaping out the window by myself. My arms had other ideas and kept me from plummeting to my death. I poked my head out of the window and watched Othello turn into a shrinking dot, growing closer and closer to the ground. He suddenly lit up like a christmas light, shooting away from the cliffs and the ground and to the dragon. The dragon was so far away that I couldn’t properly see Othello’s bright light as he met the dragon. I watched in awe until I just couldn’t. I fell back and collapsed on the carpet, letting the realizations just pour in. We were in Equestria. Finally, irrevocably, here. There was no going back. Not now. We were entrenched. I let that soak in for a little bit, hearing echoes of the distant fight. Othello was strong. Really strong. He was fast, he could fly, he could fight. If only I was courteous enough to leave myself a sword. But Othello did. He was all of the things that he was when he was a pony, but with the convenience of hands. It looked like there wasn’t anything that he couldn’t do. I sighed, pushing my hands up to my temples, overwhelmed with inadequacy. I couldn’t fly. I couldn’t even fight without irradiating the entire continent. It felt bad. Really bad. I kicked my feet in frustration. I heard something rustle behind me, and without even missing a beat, I rolled onto my stomach and fired the square gun at the noise. All I could see was an opaque yellow wall with a perfect square punched through the middle. I looked through the square and saw the angry purple eyes framed in a white face. I gulped.

“H-Hello, Princess.” I stuttered out.

Looking back, I never ever ran faster than I did that day.

“GET OUT OF MY PALACE!” She shouted at me, chasing me down the halls. I leapt up into the air to avoid a sizzling magic bolt. When I landed, I immediately ducked to avoid the next magical missile. I sprinted down the halls, trying to run away from the incensed princess and find the Tardis. I tried to reason with her at the same time.

“Look, I’m sorry that I shot at you, but-” I ducked to avoid another energy ball. “I need to fight the Angelics!” I tried to reason. The Princess just shouted in rage.

“You need to get out of my palace!” She screamed. I just tried to run faster. I dodged magical attacks for a few more minutes when the windows ahead of me exploded. I skidded to a halt, knowing that the Princess would most likely kill me. But Othello leaped through the broken windows ahead of me. I tumbled, running past Othello and landing on the glassless patch of carpet. I turned back, trying to see if Celestia was going to kill me. She stopped right in front of Othello, looking even more enraged than before. She looked down at the sword in Othello’s hand and growled.

“How dare you creatures disgrace him like that!” She shouted. Othello put up a hand.

“Tia, I-” He started, but she snorted. Her horn glowed bright yellow for a moment, and Othello rose off of his feet and flew backwards. He landed hard on his back.

“You filth! First you come and disturb my palace, one of you assaults me, and then another one of you steals a priceless magical artifact from my treasury! If you’re lucky, I might not have you two executed!” Celestia shouted. Othello pushed himself up to his feet, brushing some dust off of his mangled sweater.

“It’s the most valuable artifact you have?” He asked, gesturing to the sword. When Celestia didn’t say anything, He simply added, “Humor me.”

“It is.” She said stiffly, not visibly wanting to cooperate. But I could tell that she was slightly interested in where this would go. She had nothing to lose, and it couldn’t hurt to see what would happen. Othello made a show of looking at the sword for a moment.

“It doesn’t seem powerful enough to earn a place in the treasury.” He commented. Celestia laughed sarcastically.

“You’re one to talk. I’ve seen my throne room. It’s turned you a monster” She said, spitting venom on the last word. I saw how much it hurt Othello to hear that from her. It took him a moment to say something.

“But compared to other artifacts, It’s nothing special. Physical and mental power? It’s a trifle compared to some of the things I know you have. But what makes this one special?” He asked. Celestia answered.

“It was given to me.” She said stiffly. Othello nodded.

“By Somepony special. Somepony that meant a lot to you. Somepony red.” He led. Celestia’s mouth dropped open.

“How do you-” She started, but Othello interrupted her.

“He helped you when you needed it the most. He brought your kingdom back from the brink. He loved you dearly. He’s so very sorry that he had to leave.” Othello said. I could see the tears building in the Princess’ eyes.

“How do you know?” She whispered, trying not to cry. Othello held his hands open wide and said,

“Benvenuti nella riva più calda.” He said. Celestia held a hoof up to her mouth, her tears starting to flow freely. Othello smiled, dropping the sword and walking up to her. He hugged her neck tightly and started to sob. “Bella principessa si, è passato troppo tempo.” He said, his voice shaking. Celestia was beyond words. She was just shocked. I felt happy that Othello finally came home. I got up off of the floor. My joints protested from the run, but my fresh heart showed no signs of going out on me. I put my hands in my pockets and walked off into the palace.

I ran into her.

Sometimes people say ‘Oh, we ran into each other the other day.’ and they mean that they met each other on the street, chatted each other up, maybe had some coffee in a cafe down the street.
I collided with her and sent us both sprawling.

“Ow” I grumbled on the floor. Something poked me hard in the eye. I stayed put on the ground for a moment before getting up. I didn’t see who I ran into, but I did quickly. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think anything. I just watched her get up. Her mane was completely different than I remembered it. It was like looking into a brilliant starscape, revealing the entire universe in one swath of mane. She was a deeper shade of blue than I remembered her. She stood taller and straighter than before, looking like she cared much less about everything. Her teal eyes looked at me, inspecting me like I was something that she was performing a biopsy on. She wasn’t even surprised that I wasn’t a pony. This wasn’t the Luna that I remembered. I gulped.

“What are you doing here?” she asked flatly. I tried to say something. Anything. I couldn’t. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. I tried to say something again. It didn’t work. Luna rolled her eyes and started to walk in the direction she was going before managed to I interrupted her.

“Luna.” I said. She stopped, not even looking behind her.

“Yes?” She asked. Her voice wasn’t the soft tone that I remembered. It was stiff, formal. I felt cold.

“It’s me. Edwin.” I said. She didn’t do anything for a moment. But quick as a flash, I was hanging from the ceiling by my feet with a squareness gun in my face. Luna was grinding the gun into my left temple, her face as close to mine as possible.

“How dare you. How dare you. I know what’s happened to Edwin. I buried him. Have you ever buried anyone? Your soul mate? It hurts. It hurts in a way that can never be fixed. I cried so hard for the first few days I just wanted to kill myself so I could meet him again. Whatever jokes you may make, whatever machinations you have, whatever it is that you actually are, don’t bring back Edwin. I’ve tried to keep it down. But if you poke fun at my emotions like that, I will kill you myself. With my hooves.” She said, her words soaked in pain. I felt a wash of empathy for her. I was silent for a while, and she didn’t let me down.

“You buried... him?” I whispered, trying not to refer to myself in the first person. She nodded. “Where?”

It was too extravagant.

The tombstone wasn’t simple. It was one of those two-person stones. It was chiseled white marble, and with gold leaf in the wells of the carved letters.The entire stone was framed with seamless onyx. one side was my name, my cutie mark, and a small passage that I didn’t read. On the other side was Luna’s name. The crescent sapphire on her original grave was embedded in the marble where my cutie mark was on my side of the stone. That’s what really shocked me. She really intended to die someday because of me. That really hit home. The grass in the front of the tombstone was half grass and half tilled earth. I felt a pang, remembering the time that I saw Luna’s grave for the first time.

“Who was here for the funeral?” I asked. Luna didn’t say anything. I looked over my shoulder and saw her galloping towards the nearest door back inside. I could hear her sobs trail away, but I couldn’t go and console her no matter how much I wanted to. She didn’t need me right now.

“She needs you.” I told the grave, grabbing a fistfull of the fresh dirt. I turned up my palm and looked at it. It was deep, dark brown. There was a sunflower seed in the earth I was holding. I looked down at the grave. There were seeds scattered all over the grave. I smiled. In a few months, the entire patch would be covered in flowers. I got up and crumbled the dirt back onto the stone. The body down there felt like a stranger. Could it really be me if I was standing above it, looking at the grave? I know that the body down there was me, at one point. But could it still be me? Could the body that I was in once still belong to me? I heard a faint whisper behind me. I turned over my shoulder to see the Doctor standing next to the Tardis. I smiled.

“No hard feelings, right?” I asked. The Doctor smiled back, shaking his head.

“No. I’ve learned why you did what you did. I would have done the same thing.” He said with a quiet caring that only he could muster.

“Then why did you hand me off to the other you?” I asked innocently.

“To be honest, he wouldn’t leave me alone until I did. I’m quite annoying when I need to be.” He said. I sighed, turning back to the grave.

“Is it still me, down there?” I asked the Doctor.

“If it was still you, we wouldn’t be having this conversation, would we?” He explained deftly. I frowned.

“That’s not what I mean. Can it really be me? Was the body made for me? Was that body down there someone before I died? Did I take this body away from him when he died, like I took Jamal’s?” I asked the Doctor. He frowned. He walked over to my side and sat down next to me.

“Those are heavy questions, Edwin. Heavy questions.” The Doctor said. He was silent for a long time, not saying anything. I looked around at the swaying flowers around the tombstone. I noticed for the first time that we were in a garden. The Doctor cleared his throat. “I know how you feel, Edwin. Sometimes I don’t really know who I am either. But your conundrum is bigger than that. But your question. Whether or not this body was made for you or if you took it. It doesn’t really matter which. Neither one would affect us now. Even if this pony was a person before he died and you took his body, it doesn’t matter. I don’t think that he was, because ponies would have noticed somepony as strong as this one. But even if he was, you shouldn’t worry yourself about it. He would have wanted to live on past his time, trying to save his home from the Angelics.” He said. I relaxed at his words. I felt much more at ease.

“Do you... Do you think that I could have done any better?” I asked, voicing my fears. The Doctor put his hoof on my shoulder.

“You did very well, Edwin. Admirable, that’s the word. You fought for your home. You saved many, many ponies. Nopony could have asked you to do more than you did. It was surprising that you died when you did, but you earned your repose. Most definitely. It’s a shame you don’t get to enjoy it.” He said. I felt somewhat bittersweet.

“You’ve been to the future, right?”

“You know I have.” He said softly, hoof still on my shoulder. I turned away from the grave to him.

“Does it ever turn back to normal?” I asked. His face was extremely pained.

“I wish I could tell you. I really do.” He said. He took his hoof off of my shoulder after a moment and walked back to the Tardis. I could hear his hoofbeats when he got to the paving stones. I heard the creaking and closing of the Tardis door, and I heard the faint noise of the Tardis leaving. I closed my eyes.

“Thank you,” I said to my old body “For the memories.” I looked up into the sky. The sun was setting over the palace walls, leaving an orange flare over the wall. I could feel the hot tears on my face. I was home. I looked down at the tombstone again, reading the inscription on my grave.

I will always love you, Ed. Always.

I stood up, getting off of my knees. I turned back and walked back into the palace, filled with fresh vigor. I was going to remind Luna of what she put on that gravestone.

Comments

[spritefan10]

>Doctor Whooves is one of the main characters
>HiE story (Human in Equestria)

Before reading, I can already tell how he got into Equestria and how he'll escape.
Doctor Whooves HiE cliches are more worse than 'Twilight botches up a spell' HiE cliches.

[bordafan]

1793960

Trust me, this story is very far from being a cliche
And the doctor is not even the central/main character. Yes, he has a big role, but imho he's just an important background/side character.

[ObviousMoose42]

And here I am trying to study for finals, but no, a new update has to come out for one of my favorite fanfics!