//------------------------------// // Sound of Silence - Simon & Garfunkel // Story: Extremely Loud, Intensely Bright, Drastically Tense, Exceedingly Tight // by h4ns //------------------------------// Chapter 78: Sound of Silence - Simon & Garfunkel Bryce sat hunched over his worktable, a single lit candle his only source of light. Despite the dim light, Bryce could see well enough. Applejack, who looked on from behind the curtain, could not. And the human’s broad shoulders made her view all the worse. What she could make out filled her with dread. In his right hand was a whittling knife; the reflection of the candlelight off the blade and the way Bryce held the tool made her certain of this. Her other hand he held vertically, balanced on his elbow. The light shined off his arm in long, thin threads which ran down to a spot around his upper arm. It took a lot of effort for Applejack to remain silent, but the realization of what she saw made her insides fill with bile. She was no stranger to blood—such things came with being a farm pony. What made her cringe was the thought of somepony willingly carving themselves like Bryce often carved his wooden figures. From her position what else could she believe? Bryce brought the blade back before it disappeared behind his front. In a low voice, he said again, “Just one more cut and you’re done.” His right arm moved towards his left side a few seconds before he stopped. Then with a jerk the knife ran from the top-right of his forearm, then downwards to the left. Bryce dropped the knife and grabbed at the long, deep wound. “Piss, that hurts!” He shouted. Celestia! Applejack cried out inside her mind. As if the human heard this imagined shout he turned to face her direction, his right hand still holding onto the wound. He said nothing, but the look on his face made it clear he was aware someone was there. With a growl, Bryce turned back to his workbench, grabbed the first heavy object he could find and chucked it at the crack in the curtain. If Applejack had not ducked down when she did she risked being struck by this heavy object. But she had, and whatever Bryce had tossed flew over her head and struck the ground behind her. She heard movement from behind the curtain, then froze as the cloth drew back to reveal a set of toes. She followed the flesh attached to the toes skyward until she found a pair of black, bottomless pits looking down at her. Bryce took in quick, shallow breaths. His right hand held his left elbow tight. A trickle of blood ran from his cut, down his fingertips and collected at the ground beneath his feet. He gnashed his teeth before he spoke. "What do you think you're doing here?!" When the apple mare did not respond, he continued. "Did I not tell you to stay out of here?! Did I not explain to you I wished to never, never be disturbed when I was at work?!" Applejack held her place, unable to remember what it meant to walk. "And yet you're still here... Well, what is it you want? An apology? You want me to say I'm sorry for almost hurting your sister and her friend? Well fine, I'm sorry... That's not it? Do you want me to promise to leave them alone from now until the end of time? Fine, I'll keep my distance. You can tell Amethyst I won't give her a reason to drag me to the Guard." Applejack flinched. How's he know about-? "Well, I also know you didn't come out here on your own. If your grandmother hadn't made you come out here you could be inside enjoying a hot cup of apple cider, laughing with your family and 'tryin' ta put this whole ruckus behind ya for the rest of the day'," Bryce stated in a forced Southern drawl. In an instant, Applejack remembered thinking those same words not a full minute before. "Oh, now you remember? Do you also remember your so-called apology? You know, the one you lied about?" "Ah didn't lie, Ah... Ah told ya..." "You told me what your grandmother made you say, and you know it. You didn't mean a word of it. You're only out here because she made you, and if it were up to you I'd be packing up and outta your life for good." Applejack wanted to protest, but the words caught in her throat. She thought it impossible, but Bryce spoke the truth: her apology was a lie. Then another thought entered Bryce's head. Ah need ta get outta here before he does something. From the look in his eyes he's just itchin' to do me in. Bryce stared the apple mare down for a moment, the sting from his self-inflicted wound making itself known. He walked past Applejack and grabbed a roll of paper towels. "If you're that worried why don't you leave?" he questioned under his breath. "Beg pardon?" "If you want to leave then go, you can show yourself out. 'Don't want the big, violent ape ta do ya in'." "What made ya think that?" Applejack asked in genuine confusion. "You just said it yourself." "Ah... Ah didn't say nothing like-" "Like you really need to say it." Bryce said, forcing the mare to silence. By now Applejack could see Bryce's injury. The sight made her woozy, but she swallowed her nausea enough to ask, "Are you alright there?" Bryce returned the question with a spiteful glance. "What, you care now?" The sickness lurched in the pit of the mare's stomach. "If you care so much go and get some bandages. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m bleeding over here," he stated, slinging his arm in her direction for emphasis. A few drops of flew off. Most landed on the ground before Applejack, but a few found their way onto her forelegs. The mare fought to keep herself steady. To see her own blood was bad enough, to see anypony else bleed was worse, but to see Bryce’s blood and have it on her made her fight to keep Thanksgiving lunch down. Bryce fumed on the scene for a moment before he bit his lower lip. “Applejack,” he began, “I…” Before he could finish the apple mare bolted for the door, tripping a few times along the way. She tumbled along, deaf to Bryce’s words. In her frantic attempt to escape, she fell onto an upturned rake—one which Bryce was could not warn her of in time—and impaled the tool into the length of her left foreleg. The immediate torrent of pain was too much for Applejack to take in for the first few seconds. When she could, she could do nothing to contain the screams, screams to anyone sounded to be of bloody murder. Applejack was only able to let out a few cries of pain before Bryce pushed her onto her back, with his left hand on her chest and the other across her mouth. The mare could see his mouth move, but after everything to happen in the last thirty seconds his voice sounded miles away. Thinking the worst, she began to struggle in his grip, to which Bryce put in more effort to hold her down. Then at once Applejack heard the human shout, APPLEJACK, STAY STILL OR I’LL MAKE YOU!!! The sound came not from the human’s mouth but instead from within Applejack’s own mind. A muffled shout came from behind Bryce’s hand. IF YOU DON’T QUIT STRUGGLING YOU’LL-, Bryce began, but was cut off when Applejack sank her teeth into his hand. Applejack made to run once more but the rake still in her leg said otherwise as the metal tines shifted inside her limb. Ignoring the pain from the horse bite, Bryce once again forced her onto her back. APPLEJACK…! Bryce screamed inside her mind. He bit his lip before his thoughts resounded in her mind in a calmer tone, I’m sorry…for this… Then all at once the mare’s struggles ceased. It was true Applejack continued to struggle—in her mind she did, at least—but despite her mind telling her body to move it lay as if nailed to the spot. All except for her eyes, which continued to dart about the barn. If she could, she would ask the human, “What the hay’ve you done ta me?” “Made sure you can’t move.” Bryce answered as he walked over to a pile of his botched projects. He selected a small dowel rod and strode back to the telekinetic-bound mare. As he slid the rod into her mouth, he stated in his own physical voice, “I can’t do anything for the pain. I’m sorry for this, as well.” As Bryce bent down Applejack felt the invisible force which held her body in place release its grip. Before she could move to land a blow to the human she felt a worse pain than before. It came from Bryce, who now tugged at the rake embedded in her leg. Whatever thought she had before vanished as she bit down with all her might on the wooden rod. After a few good tugs, she felt the rake slide out of her flesh, and then Bryce pick himself up off her. Applejack drew in a few deep breaths, her mouth still clinched down on the rod. When she regained herself enough to realize the rake was no longer inside her, she turned her head to look at the damage. In the darkness, she could not see anything. But when Bryce brought over the candle from his workshop she gagged at sight at least a dozen small holes in her leg. And each one drained blood like a sieve. Bryce placed the candle down and shoved her head in the opposite direction. “Don’t look at it!” He cried. What he said next served to make Applejack think the worst she had ever thought of anypony. “I’m sorry to say I’m not finished with you yet.” Before she could let out a ‘no’ in protest Bryce had gone to work on her. From the corner of her eye she saw a warm glow and took it to be from the candle. When the glow drew down to where she saw her own injured foreleg not a minute before the wounds erupted into a new level of pain and anguish. It felt as if the human was pouring hot wax into each wound. As tears ran down her cheeks her teeth bit through the rod to where they almost touched. And then she felt nothing. Not to say she did not feel the dirt against her back or the air feel her lungs or the ache in her teeth, for she could feel these quite well. She did not know when but the burning sensation in her foreleg had gone away. She could feel it still inside her mind, but the physical aspect was like nothing she had ever felt. In fact, she felt better than ever. Applejack opened her eyes to find herself still within the barn. The candle sat in a holder no more than a yard from her. When she looked at her left foreleg it sickened her to see dried blood. What made her pause was how the dozen or so wounds—which had before bled like a sieve—were nowhere to be found. She rubbed the places where she had seen them last but found only her own hide. No scars or blemishes or anything were left to show where the rake had pierced her. Once she overcame the initial shock she decided to take it a step further. Drawing in a breath, then releasing it she pushed herself up with her right foreleg. She took her time until she stood with all four legs planted on the ground. And she had to admit to herself a second time she felt better than ever. She continued to marvel at the relief until she heard a shifting from behind her. She shot her head back to find Bryce, sitting on his haybed. His sat with his back to her as before. For a moment she stood, questioning on what best to do. For the most part he appeared fine, but then she recalled the human’s own wounds. They were by far worse than her own—more so when her wounds did not seem to exist. She moved to walk over to Bryce but stopped. Not long before he looked ready to do her in, but through whatever means he may well have saved her life. She never wanted to come here in the first place, but Granny Smith made her give an apology. And this is where Applejack cringed. Her apology, the one she stated to Bryce but in her heart did not, in the honesty her father had brought her up to believe, mean. And from this one lie, this one lapse into dishonesty she ended up with a rake in her leg. Applejack looked once more at the wound, and then thought of Bryce’s own. She was fine now, but was Bryce the same way? It would be dishonest of her to assume he was, not without seeing with her own eyes first. She took the chance and made her way over to Bryce. If he heard her approach he did nothing to acknowledge her presence. He sat with his feet rested on the ground, and his arms lay crossed across his knees. For a moment Applejack wished she had sense to bring the candle along with her, but in the dim light she was grateful she had not. The bloodstained paper towels wrapped around his left forearm proved he was not well, and she had had enough of the sight of blood for one day. They both sat in silence until Applejack said, “Bryce, Ah’m gonna make sure ya get yourself patched up. Ah promise. You… You just stay here, alright?” Bryce returned a ‘hmm’ in response. “Alright, Ah’m going, so stay put, alright?” She turned to head for the door, making sure to avoid any misplaced farm tools or the like. Back at the farmhouse the grown-ups waited for Applejack’s return. When they heard the creak of the front door they all jumped up to investigate. Each one reeled in terror to find the mare both visibly shaken and covered in dried blood. They each questioned her about her state, and Applejack debated on what to tell them. To answer whether she was hurt was difficult to answer. There were no wounds on her body. Had she apologized was something she did not want to answer. She apologized, but not in honesty. In fact, she delayed her trip back to the farmhouse to try and come up with an explanation. She decided to instead to draw their focus to more pressing matters. “Bryce is hurt.” The comment made them all go silent. “He’s in a bad way. Ah don’t know if he needs to go to the hospital but somepony needs to get’m some bandages.” Nopony wanted to question the how. Narrowing her brow Granny Smith took control of the situation. After setting Bait, along with a first aid kit, to look after Bryce and sent Big Mac and Amethyst upstairs to keep Dinky and Apple Bloom occupied and out of sight. She instructed Applejack to follow her into the bathroom. When the two eldest Apple mares entered the bathroom, Granny Smith turned on her granddaughter. “Alright, Ah want an explanation.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Bryce continued to sit in his current position, not moving until a minute after Applejack’s departure. The darkness around him sank in, overtaking him as the candle burnt itself out. The only light came from the small gaps in the exterior of the barn. Then from the darkness an unseen voice asked, “A telling series of events, is it not?” The sudden intrusion made Bryce tense up. He looked about, unable to make out anything in the vast emptiness. “Who’s there?” “Do not be afraid. I am a friend; someone who has always been with you.” In the confined space of the barn the intruder’s voice seemed to echo off every surface. Because of this it made it hard to pinpoint their exact location. "Well, friend, do you have a name?" Bryce asked. He pressed a fresh paper towel on his forearm as he stood. “I would think it wise if you sat for now,” the voice stated. “Using one’s own aether to heal another can take more out of someone than you think. And the loss of blood makes it all the worse.” As the voice finished Bryce felt his legs wobble under him. “Aether? You mean life force?” “One and the same,” the voice answered, then allowed silence to settle. Bryce wanted to ask more on the topic, but their knowledge of life force was of lesser importance. It nagged on him he knew who it was he spoke with but could not remember from either when or where. It was someone he had not spoken with in a long time, he was sure, but at the same time he knew they talked a few weeks back. For now, Bryce wanted an answer to his previous question. “You never told me your name.” “Yes, and I have told few. I would tell you, but to know my name is to hold a power well outside any one mortal’s control.” The voice fell silent for a spell before adding, “And it is also difficult to pronounce.” Bryce smirked as he settled himself on a support beam. “Well, are there some who call you…Tim?” What sounded to be a chuckle echoed inside the barn. “I am something greater than a mere enchanter, though I have dabbled in the art. But that was when I had the means to do so.” The voice said in a low tone. The voice then spoke up, “In time you will come to know who I am, but for now…’Providence’ will suffice.” Bryce let out a snort. Well, I’ll play along, for now. At least until I find this guy. “Okay, Providence, what do you want?” He asked as he grabbed his shovel. It would help him to navigate around the barn. He intended to find this familiar voice, and from there decide what to do. Based on the situation the shovel could provide an alternative use. “First, to talk. As I said before your actions are quite telling of your nature.” “Yeah, I scare people enough to make them fall on farm tools. The Nightmare Night Nightmare strikes again.” “An unfortunate byname; one which could not be more wrong.” “Well, public opinion tells otherwise.” “It was not five minutes ago Applejack wanted you locked away in a cell,” Providence countered. “Well, what of it?” Bryce stated as he poked around the inside a stall. The source of the unseen voice continued to allude him. By now Bryce covered a quarter of the barn, and the only soft parts he prodded were piles of empty straw. “You say you care for the opinion of other people, but you risk depleting your aether to the point of losing your very soul to save her.” “She was in no real danger.” There was no response for a moment until the voice shot back, “You and I both know that is a lie.” Before Bryce could dismiss Providence, the well-informed voice stated, “The rake Applejack fell on pierced her leg in exactly fourteen places, with more than half along a primary artery. To say one, two, four at the most would have been nothing to raise alarm over. With four at the most the bleeding could have been stemmed enough to bring her to the hospital in time. And for your reference Ponyville Hospital is around two-and-two-fifths miles away. And Big Mac would have needed to do this via pure horsepower, not with the internal-combustion engines of your world.” Bryce stopped when he heard this last part. “How do you know-?” “Do not interrupt,” Providence said in a harsh yet calm tone. “With fourteen the chances plummet. With this amount of hemorrhaging her heart would beat faster to ensure blood reached every part in her body, without much care on how this only hastens her death. If she stayed calm enough she would expire by the time her brother brought her through the hospital door. But as we both know she was afraid for her life. By the halfway mark—even with careful dressing—she would have gone into shock, and soon after expire.” As Bryce lowered his shovel, the voice added one last point. “The Apple family may boast on their skill in running—and compared to others they do indeed outrun many seasoned runners—they would not be fast enough.” Bryce bit his lower lip while he counted the movements of his toes in his usual way. Why do you tell me all this? You think I didn’t know what would happen? He thought to himself. “What does it matter to you if I saved her?” “I believe the better question is why? And I do not mean why does it matter to me, Bryce Smales, but to you?” Do I need a reason? Was his immediate thought. He pondered this as he held himself up with the shovel. By now Bryce had covered every corner of the barn. This Providence—or whoever they were—was everywhere and nowhere all at once. For all Bryce could muster the owner of the voice moved in between sentences, much like a sniper would move after letting off a few rounds. To him the two did not seem too different. But if this were so why could Bryce not hear him. The guy would have to be made of air to pull off such a stunt in confined quarters. Providence may well have been, for their voice came at him from every direction. Bryce walked around until his shovel connected with something hard. He tapped the blade against the object a few times before he bent down and took it up in his hands. As soon as he felt it he knew it to be a piece of wood, and from the noticeable curves and edges it was carved. As Bryce held the carving in his hands, Providence made his continued presence known. “Yes, the second reason I am here.” “What, one of my botched projects? If you want it, you can have it. Nothing but firewood now.” “Yes, many of your latest works have been less than exemplary, but the one you hold in your hands bears a hidden message. One of grave importance.” Bryce turned the wood in his hand, unable to make out any features released from the large block of wood. He was certain he had not carved anything which needed two hands. At least, not since Needlepoint sacked him. “Well, if it is one of mine, as you say, I don’t usually make anything with a hidden meaning. I mean, I make a nightstand to represent, you know, a nightstand,” Bryce stated, the cryptic nature of the voice aggravating him further. “This is not the time for jokes, Bryce. What you have is a warning of things to come. Unless you heed it now the lives of many will be lost.” Bryce could feel the gravity of the words Providence spoke to him, but the events of the day made him less than amicable, and the shortage of his lifeforce made him as ornery as a mother bear during hibernation season. He turned to face the curtain; the thin cloth barrier between his workshop and the outside world. This was the one corner Bryce failed to check, and only because of one reason: he was the only person—be it human, pony or whatever other sentient being resided in this world—allowed inside. A place where everybody knew for certain he was not to be disturbed. And with no other option Bryce was sure he had found his Providence. To Hell with their skulking about. If they had something to say he would say it to his face; no riddles or double meanings. “Why come to me with this?” Bryce did not wait to hear Providence’s reply. Dropping the wood, he took up his shovel. He then thought of the curtain torn from its rungs, and it did. Then he pounced, his thoughts on a giant, invisible wave forcing everything in the space before him onto the far wall. And as he believed it, so it came to be. “Alright, the game’s over!” He shouted to his corner of the barn. “Come out and show yourself!” From behind him a voice stated, “Bryce, I’m behind you.” Bryce turned about and started towards the figure behind him, their silhouette framed by the setting sun. When he reached the figure, he thrust the shovel forward, the blade coming to a stop less than an inch from their neck. “Now I want to know who you are and why the H you’re in here!” “I…” Bryce saw the figure swallow. “I came to bring you some bandages.” “Bandages…? What about the…” And when Bryce recognized the pony before him he began to tremble. It was Bait, who stood in the doorway with a look to match the human’s. “Bait, I…” He lowered the shovel blade to the floor. “This isn’t what it looks like. There was…something…” The fear in the tan colt’s eyes fade as his face pulled back into a smile. “It’s quite all right, Bryce,” he said as he brought forward a first aid kit. “We can discuss this later. As I was told someone is in need of some bandages.” Bryce looked to the kit, then to his left forearm. The sudden jump at the tan colt tore the paper towels away from the wounds. The wounds would have bled from every opening, had Bryce not used a palmful of lifeforce to stem the flow. He continued to bleed in places—at most a tenth of what could have been. Such a small amount of one’s own lifeforce could only be spread so far. “Yeah, I… I guess I do.” He took the first aid kit and made his way to his bed, holding his forearm over his head as he went. Once seated, he wiped some of the blood from the wounds with fresh paper towels. After he opened the red tin case to retrieve the gauze, he looked up to find Bait not a yard away. “Bait, you okay? I don’t want you to faint.” Bait looked at him with the same smile. “Why would I?” He asked, unfazed in the slightest. Bryce unrolled the bandages around his forearm. Once he was halfway, he said, “Thanks for these.” “Think nothing of it. What else are friends for?” Bryce looked the colt over, the smile not once leaving his lips. “Why are you here? Waiting until I’m finished to yell at me, too?” “Why would I do that?” “Well, for making you give away most of your inheritance, for one. You know, the bits you wanted to use to buy the land.” Bait ran a hoof under his chin. “The land…? Oh, you mean the land further up the road? Yes, I suppose you would think that, but I’ve had time to think it over, and I agree.” Bryce hissed as he secured the bandages. “You agree?” Bait nodded. “Yes, one hundred percent.” He scratched the back of his head. “I will admit I was a little upset when you ask me to give away my uncle’s trust.” “More like I bribed you,” Bryce retorted. “A bribe, to the outside eye maybe, but now I can understand your point of view. I may have given away my only chance to make a homestead for myself. But in the end, it goes to a better cause. Besides, it’s not as if anypony would buy that land. I still intend to buy it, just not now.” Bryce wrapped some cloth tape around the gauze, keeping it in place. “Well, you looked angry before.” “Yes, but as I said I’m past it now,” Bait replied with his face still locked in a smile. “I am more concerned with the present. Or to be specific, why did you do this to yourself?” He asked as he lifted the human’s bandaged forearm. Bryce took the limb back. “It’s not what you think. I wasn’t being careful.” “That much is obvious. But I would have stopped after the first cut.” Bryce looked at his forearm. A few indications of blood poked through, but for the most part the bleeding had been stemmed. If he had enough life force the bandages would not have been needed, but as someone had said before he was at his limit. “I don’t know what to say… Is it believable I didn’t know I was doing it?” “How could you not, the wound looks dreadful!” Bait began, but calmed himself enough to say, “But I suppose after what you went through you may have gone numb to just about everything.” “Yeah, maybe…” Then Bryce had a thought. “How is Dinky?” The tan colt’s smile faltered at mention of the purple-grey filly. “Yes, I thought you might ask about her.” He took a breath before he said, “I want you to know Dinky is well. Physically, at least. As for her mental state... It's hard to tell if she's still in awe from the experience, rattled from her lesson in gravity...or upset over Amethyst's behavior.” He waited for Bryce to reply, but the human said nothing. “I don't know if you're listening, but I was able to convince Amethyst—out of respect for your friendship and the holiday—to not involve the Guard. And I wanted you to hear this from me: She will do this, on the condition that you...” Bait paused to swallow. “Amethyst wants you to cease all contact with herself, and with Dinky.” Bryce looked down to the ground. He opened his mouth but shut it. He did not know what to say. Bait sat back on his haunches. “I’m sure this is upsetting, but everypony thought it best if I told you.” Bryce chewed on his lower lip, while his toes wiggles in their usual way. When he calmed himself enough, he said without a sign of emotion, “I think it was for the best, as well. Not that you told me, but if I don’t see them anymore.” Bait was a little taken aback by this statement. “Come now, you surely cannot mean that. I thought you cared for Dinky.” Bryce did not look us as he said, “I do, and if I have to avoid her so she’s safe then I’ll do it.” “You speak as if you’re a danger to her.” “What was it you said, ‘rattled from her lesson in gravity’?” Bryce asked as he glared into the colt’s irritated eyes. “Yes, but if you recall I also said she may be in awe of the experience.” “Or upset because of what happened with her sister, which is because of me.” “You can’t blame yourself for Amethyst. We tried to talk her out of it.” Bryce stared down the colt. “Oh, and what did you say? ‘Flying with neither the aid nor the use of wings’?” Bait paused for a second before he realized what the human meant. “Okay, maybe I didn’t try to stop her, but I meant to. Regardless, Ditzy, Big Mac and Granny Smith tried to coax her out of it, but she would not listen.” “I’ve already said it was my fault, what more do I need to say?” “And I’m telling you it wasn’t.” “Well…I’m tired of this back and forth,” Bryce stated. “I’m going.” “Going? Going where?” “What’s it…?” Bryce needed to right himself. “What’s it to ya?” “You look awful, for one thing.” “Yeah, and you have a horse face.” “A horse face, what kind of…” Bait decided it best to ignore the comment. “You shouldn’t go anywhere. Not in your state.” “Well, try and stop me.” Bryce said as he turned to face the door. He jumped up on his toes to avoid running over Granny Smith, who held a look of bitter concern upon her face. Applejack stood behind her, struggling to hold herself together. As Bryce balanced himself, he asked in a deep tone, “Do you mind?” Applejack returned a visible shutter, but Granny Smith did not flinch. “Ah will, but Ah just wanna make sure of somethin’ first,” the latter mare stated. She made her into the barn, forcing Bryce to make his way back. “Wh- What about?” “Ah just wanna make sure you’re alright.” “Well, I’m fine. My wounds are all patched up,” he declared, showing everypony his bandaged arm. “Ah can see that—Ah ain’t that blind—but that’s not what Ah meant.” By then the mare had backed Bryce to his bed. “Bryce, Ah think you should have a seat.” Bryce narrowed his eyes. “Why?” He did not allow anypony a chance to answer before he said, “I don’t wanna know now. I have somewhere to-“ “Whatever it is, it can wait!” Granny Smith said in a tone which shocked everyone. Without further prompting, Bryce complied with the mare’s request and sat down on his bed. Everyone remained silent until he stated, “Fine, but whatever it is make it fast. I really do have somewhere to be.” “It depends on how willing ya are ta talk.” Granny Smith drew in a breath. “Bryce, what happened?” His eyes turned to Applejack, who stuck close to the open door. “She fell on a rake. I had nothing to do with it, if that’s what you wanted to know,” he almost spat. This comment did not faze the well-aged mare in the slightest. “That was a concern of mine, but AJ’s let you off the hook on that part.” She looked back to the apple mare, who rubbed her right foreleg over her left, as if expecting the wounds to spring up and gush with blood. “No, Ah’m more concerned with you.” “…Why…?” When nopony took the initiative to say anything, Bryce stood up. “Well, if no one’s gonna say anything-“ “You sit right back down, mister!” Granny Smith said in the same commanding tone as before. “It’s not somethin’ anypony wants ta ask, but… Bryce, are you feelin’ alright?” “I would, if someone would let me leave.” “Ah’ll let ya go after Ah make sure ya ain’t gonna…” “I ain’t gonna what?” The well-aged mare decided to go a different direction. “Bryce, how’d you get those cuts?” She asked, pointing to his burned left arm. Bryce hid his forearm behind his back. “By accident.” “You’re doin’ a fine job of hidin’ it, then.” “Well, do you really want to see it?” “Yes, actually.” The answer left Bait and Applejack in shock. “No, I don’t think you-“ Granny Smith ran forward and pulled the human’s arm from behind his back, then ran the bandages up the limb. The suddenness of the mare left Bryce no time to stop her. Applejack willed herself to move forward, afraid for her grandmother’s safety. When she reached his bed, what little bravery she found left her. Cut into the flesh of Bryce’s forearm were at least a dozen gashes, each one at a diagonal. The longest one ran from below his wrist to above his elbow. There were also a few scratches across his palm and fingers, which looked like fresh, thin scars. What made the situation strange was how well the wounds had healed in the time since Applejack had ran for help. Granny Smith wasted no time in saying what the three equines thought, “How could ya not feel any of that?” It was only then Bryce took in the number of self-inflicted wounds for himself. “I… I don’t know…” “Well what was goin’ through yer head when ya done it?” Bryce looked the green apple mare in the eye, then back to the wound. “I wasn’t careful.” “With what?” “I just…wasn’t careful.” He looked to the well-aged mare once more, then to the other two ponies around him. “You think…!? I’m not suicidal! I mean, I know what this looks like, but… It’s not what you think. You can ask her,” he said, pointing at Applejack. Applejack tried to shy away, but all eyes were now on her. “Well, Ah saw, but…” “Go ahead, tell the truth,” Bryce said. “Ah… Ah saw ya,” Applejack confirmed, “but from the way Ah saw…” She began to run a hoof through the dirt and straw. “Well, go on and say the rest. Don’t lie again.” At this Applejack shot the human a glare. She could not hold it, however, and her ears drooped down as her face sunk into a frown. “Ah ain’t,” she said in a meek voice, “Ah saw you in there, at your desk, and you…” She hadn’t the stomach to say the rest. Bryce clamed up after what he heard—what they all heard. Granny Smith laid a hoof on Bryce’s leg, drawing everyone’s attention. “Bryce, whatever plans you have I think it best you postpone’em.” Bryce shook his head. “I can’t. I need to do this today.” “Be that as it may, you ain’t in the right state-“ “For what?! To do a good job of offing myself?!” He shot the three ponies a glare. “I mean, even if I wanted to—and I’m not saying I do—I wouldn’t do this,” he said, sticking out his arm. “I’d do it in a way I couldn’t get out of. And even if I want attention—and right now I wish you’d all leave me the H alone—why would I want this kind?” He crossed his wrists and looked down to his toes, which he wiggled in his own way. “I don’t want pity. I don’t want anyone’s pity.” As the comment sunk in, Granny Smith asked. “Bryce, even if ya didn’t mean to hurt yourself, ya obviously ain’t in the right state of mind to do anything right now.” In a move to see if the human heard her, she asked, “Is there anypony I can get for you?” Bryce shook his head. “There’s no one I wanna see,” he said in a low voice. “Come on. There’s gotta be somepony. What about Apple Bloom? She been askin’ ‘bout ya since lunch.” He was quick to respond, “No way in Hell! I don’t need to scare her any more than she is already.” “Well fine, but what about one of your friends? What about Pinkie Pie, or Rainbow, or Miss Rarity?” “Too annoying. Likes to invade personal space. And Rarity? She’d be worse off than Sprout.” “Well there has to be somepony. It’s not that Ah don’t trust ya, but it wouldn’t be right to leave ya on your own. Ah at least want ta leave you with somepony you’d rather see. There’s gotta be somepony you wanna see.” For a moment Bryce paused. These was somepony Bryce would not mind seeing: Mina, who he could talk with about almost anything. “There is, but I don’t know where she lives. She just always seems to be able to find me.” Bryce shook his head. “But it’s more trouble than it’s worth. Right now, I need to go.” Before the well-aged mare could reply, Bait interjected, “I think there’s somepony you failed to mention, Mrs Smith”. “Did Ah?” “Why, yes.” He looked to Bryce, who did not meet his gaze. “Isn’t there at least one pony who you would want to spend the entire day with? You know, someone who you haven’t seen in a while. Someone who I’m sure is dying to see you.” “I just said I don’t know where she lives.” “Oh, I think you where she lives,” the tan colt said with a knowing grin. “Someone you’re used to helping out on a weekly basis.” For a moment he again thought of Mina, but then considered there was no way the tan colt could know of their weekly meetings. He looked away, more upset than before. “I doubt it,” Bryce mumbled. “But do you?” “Who are you talkin’ about?” Granny Smith inquired. “You know, Bryce’s special someone.” “Oh, you mean-?” “Fluttershy…doesn’t want to see me!” Bryce said, trying to hold back from the shout inside of him. “Oh, come now. You know, she did inquire about you during your—uh hum—hiatus.” “And she hasn’t come around since?” “Well… No, but surely it’s only because she…had other matters to attend to…?” “You don’t believe a word of that, do you?” “I’m sure it’s a contributing factor. She often comes around every Wednesday for the Farmers’ Market, does she not? If she weren’t involved with other matters I’m sure she would have stopped by.” Bryce suck in his lower lip. “She doesn’t want to see me,” he said as if it were a statement of fact. “Ah think this fella makes a good point,” Granny Smith said. “Ah’ve seen the way that mare looks at ya, and Ah see only good intent. If you want one of us can go get her.” Bryce shook his head. “If she wanted to see me she knows where to find me.” “Yes, but she doesn’t know about today. I’m sure if she knew she’d-“ “Fall right over and die!” Bryce said without a hint of sarcasm. “Hey, that’s a little extreme now!” The well-aged mare cried. “That girl’s crazy ‘bout you. Anypony can tell that.” “If she wants to see me she would come to me, but she hasn’t!” Bryce yelled back. “And if I go see her she’d take one look at me and seal herself inside a makeshift panic room, at best. And at the worst…” He said, becoming forlorn. “She could die of fright…of the sight of me.” He looked to the ponies around him. “I can tell you all doubt me,” he said, their faces a clear sign of this statement, but their personal thoughts a better clue. “But…she’s afraid of her own shadow—have you seen that?” He asked the well-aged mare. “I have. When she’s on a bad day she freezes up at the sight of it. And with me… Do any of you expect the Nightmare Night Nightmare to fare any better?” Each pony stared on in silence. Then all at once Applejack said, “Yeah, Ah’ve see her do that, once or twice.” All attention was on her now—including Bryce’s, though he kept his gaze down at her hooves. “That gal gets herself spooked by a lotta stuff. Most of it’s stuff anypony should be cautious around, but a few things…” Applejack mumbled a few of the edgy mare’s fears under her breath. Her own shadow a part of said list, but also flying, haircuts, et cetera. The literal concept of et cetera, as in how she might not know every bit of the et cetera to match the situation. “But one thing Ah do know,” Applejack said after a moment’s thought, “is every time she’s ‘round you she ain’t like herself. And Ah mean she ain’t all finicky over the small stuff. It’s as if she doesn’t notice anything that’s goin’ on when she’s with you.” Bryce sucked in his lower lip and let out a sigh. “Yeah, but that was before. Even if she did feel that way about me before, she’s probably been into town. She’s seen the state it’s in; all the wreckage and the displacement. And she should know who is responsible.” He looked down to Applejack’s hooves. “If it were you would you still see them the same way?” He managed to meet the mare’s gaze, the droop in her ears answering for her. “Do you really want to answer?” Bryce asked “I know your answer, and it’s a ‘no’. You just don’t want to lie.” Applejack would indeed have told him ‘no’, and it would be the truth. But there was more she wanted to say, and she would have, if not for the Bryce’s last comment. Bryce looked to his toes, which sat static to match his mood. He let out a nasal sigh once more, then said, “If you’re finished I would like to leave. Whatever you guys have to say it can wait. I have people who need me.” “You do? Who?” Granny Smith asked. “It’s the family I’ve been teaching to cook. I promised them I’d help with Thanksgiving dinner. And it’s the reason I need to leave now!” He said, his irritation coming to a head. “So, unless any of you want to try and stop me, I’m late!” “Now wait a minute there!” Granny Smith stated, forcing the human to stay his place. “Is that really the reason? And did you really promise?” “Yes, it’s the truth. And…I didn’t promise, but it was implied. I’m teaching three girls: a mother and her kids. Well, it’ll be a wreck without me. Her girls are fine, but their mother…” He thought of a polite way to say it, but nothing came to mind. “That bad…?” The well-aged mare said when Bryce kept silence. “Are you sure they can’t manage on their own?” “If I thought they could last for one meal on their own I’d stay, but I can’t just abandon them, can I?” He looked the mare dead in the eye. “It may just be a dinner, but I’m not going to leave them to fail. Not when they need me the most, and not if I can help it.” Granny Smith narrowed her eyes and looked the human over. She opened her mouth a few times only to slam it shut. When she came to a consensus, she stomped her hoof, causing everyone present to jump. “Fine,” she stated, allowing the word to reverberate for all to hear. “Ah’ll let you off.” She leaned forward and stared the human down. “But don’t think for a minute Ah’m gonna let the state of this place fly,” she said, using a hoof to indicate the mess in the barn. “You can go after you clean this place up. Ya probably don’t wanna go inside, so AJ will bring ya out a washtub and some water to rinse off. And another thing, we all worked hard to make that food,” she said, pointing to the tray of stone cold food at the end of his bed. “You get something in your stomach. After that then you can go, understand!?” Bryce bit his lower lip, worried how much later he would become to fulfill the well-aged mare’s requests. Though angered, he nodded. “Good,” she said as her face pulled back into a cheerful smile. “AJ, there’s a big bucket on the backside of the house. Bait, you come on, so he can have some privacy.” Without waiting for the two young ponies to respond, she hooved her way to the door. When she caught everyone in their same places, she exclaimed, “Well, get a move on!” In a flash Bait ran past the well-aged mare. Before Applejack could join him, Granny Smith said, “AJ, one more thing.” She came in close and spoke in a voice too low for Bryce to hear. When she finished, Applejack’s ears drooped as she returned a nod. Turning on her hooves, Applejack hooved her way back to Bryce, who stared down at his wiggling toes. She opened her mouth to speak, before Bryce cut her short. “I know what you’re gonna say. Just go.” Applejack looked back to Granny, who fixed her granddaughter with a serious face. She turned back to Bryce. “Ah’m sorry…” She said, now sincere and sure about her words. “Not just for earlier, but for…everything…” “You’re fine with me, just go.” “Okay, but Ah wanna say-“ “Tell me later! I’m already late, and whatever it is you will tell me again later. So, save it for then.” It was how Bryce said it as if it were a fact. But she did not doubt here guilt would subside anytime soon. She would apologize to him again, and again, as many times until it satisfied herself, her granny, the human. With a heavy catch in her step, she left, with the well-aged mare sticking to her side. “Ah’m sorry, Granny. Ah swear Ah tried.” “Ah know ya did, but what Ah hope you get from all this is ya need to put some faith in the boy. Ah don’t know what goes on in his head, but Ah can tell there’s no ill will in’m.” By then they made their way behind the farmhouse, and Applejack had the handle of a bucket between her teeth. “If he wanted ta do me in he was more than able ta. But that boy backed off from me. Does that look like the kinda fella who’d put your sister or her friend in harm’s way of purpose?” Applejack did her best to say, “No, Granny.” “Darn tootin’. And here it is now three times he’s saved your sorry, doubtin’ hide.” As Applejack placed the bucket under the water pump, Granny Smith asked, “What do ya have to say for yourself?” “In truth, nothin’ good… Ah’m sorry…” “Well ya should be. Sure, he may have gotten ya inta at least one of them scraps by accident. But if he wasn’t so forgiving he would ignore ya and move on. And today, well, that was all on you, from the way you said it.” “Yeah, Ah did. But if you’d seen what Ah saw…” She shook at the memory, more from the burning sensation which still echoed down her front leg. “Well, Ah’m just glad everything’s alright.” “But is it? Ah mean, is he really okay to go off on his own?” “That depends, did he look honest enough to ya?” Applejack waited until she had the pump going to answer. “He looked genuine, but still, those cuts. And they looked old,” she said, referring to how the human’s wounds no longer bled. “Whatever it is it has ta be the same reason ya ain’t here bleedin’ to death now. Don’t think Ah didn’t notice all the blood on the floor and on the rake. Which reminds me, we need to take care of that later. “Yeah, no doubt on that one,” the orange mare said as she topped off the bucket. “But Granny, it’s not that I don’t trust ya, but should he be left alone? What if he gets into trouble in town?” “If he gave his word then Ah believe he’ll keep it. If he wanted to leave as bad to hurt himself he would have come up with something better than ‘helpin’ make dinner’.” “Ah reckon. But isn’t there at least something we should do?” “Well, now that mention it, there is something we can do.” Granny explained her plan as they made their way back to the barn. When they reached the door, Applejack placed the bucket at the door, with a washing pan to go with it, and made their presence known to Bryce. When she returned to her grandmother, she said, “Ah don’t know, Granny, he might not like it. He might take it the wrong way.” “Maybe he will, but maybe not. Right now, his best interests are the last thing on his mind. We at least need to give’em a chance.” Once everything was in order, and had Granny Smith’s seal of approval, Bryce left for the Nuts’ home. It is an interesting case of how a single event can cling to a person. What one does today can have lasting consequences; when one is found at their worst it is difficult to pack away their foul mood. When one tries to act with good intentions their actions are taken as an abuse of their power. What transpired during Bryce’s entry into Ponyville? Read the next chapter if you would know.