//------------------------------// // Act III, scene i - Inversion // Story: A World Rent Asunder // by NeverEatTheLemonsAlone //------------------------------// After that, I'm strung out on my back for days, trying to recover. Occasionally, Trixie will come in and try to talk to me, but I'm largely unresponsive, filtering fitfully in and out of consciousness every few minutes. Rainbow might have been there once or twice, but that's a big might, and I have no idea if she really was. I have no idea if she's alive. All I've really been able to gather is that Trixie's astral magic, and her ability to act as a scryer through the stars, saved my life. How, I'm not entirely sure yet, but at least that I know. The room is small, kinda homey, I guess. It's somewhat like a room in an inn; I'm not exposed to the stars, which is definitely a good thing. It's floored with pale wood and paneled in the same, and there's a small gray brick fireplace kept burning in the wall opposite the door. My bed is a small affair, but good enough for me to lie in, and I'm not really trying to stretch out a whole lot right now anyway. The blanket is thick and warm and that's all that particularly matters, since I'm spending all my time under it. A single candle now burns on the nightstand, refreshed every so often by the ever-attentive Trixie, who I assume is staying in a different room at the inn. I hope she has enough to pay for all this; bits aren't particularly easy to come by in large quantities these days. Then again, I'm an enemy of the state in two separate nations. She probably has it a bit easier. Every time I fall asleep, my brain is assailed with more images like the one from Luna's spell: random pieces of events that I've never seen, that don't make sense. Pictures of maybe another place, maybe another time. I don't know; sometimes the lithe figure in the torrent of rainbows reappears, stretching out a paw to me. Sometimes I see fragments of the strange elderly unicorns, writing their equations and codes. Sometimes, a double helix flashes across my field of vision, flickering like some sort of distorted static. When I awake, it's with the tang of iron on the tongue, and I don't know why. I've been continuously trying to use magic a little bit each day, and eventually, I managed to lift a quill without feeling like Pinkie/Mena'd had free reign with my head. And, of course, I immediately decided to overtax myself, and dropped the quill against a wave of nausea and pain about five minutes later. Barely been able to use any magic since. Still, I feel like it was important to use that quill. [1] See, somehow, among all the random thoughts bolting through my head in the deep dark of sleep, one is always the same. A pattern on the canvas of my mind, serving as the...background? I guess? It's kinda hard to speak of things objectively in dreams. So sue me. I can't really describe the nature of how it's there. It just...is, always. I needed to draw it, because I don't know how long these dreams are going to continue, and part of me [2] can't help but feel like the pattern is important. After I woke up, I drew it as fast as I could. I can't say I have the faintest clue what it is. I can't even begin to guess. It looks a bit like a complex spell lattice [3], but there's something...different about it, something nagging at the back of my head and burrowing into my thoughts. I can't place it, but I can tell this isn't just a spell. I've seen and read about a lot of spells, and I've learned a few from lattice. It's fairly old hat for me. That's why I don't think it's a normal spell: I don't see any way to cast it. I understand a little bit of the basic premise behind it; that is, it seems to channel power into something. Relatively straightforward; it's a similar principle to enchantment of objects. Two problems, though: one, there's no way to designate a target. It's left open-ended. That's the kind of mistake you usually see with beginners drawing lattices, but this is a complex enough lattice that there's no way a beginner could have scribed it. That would force all the magic feedback into the caster, since it would have nowhere to go. And that relates to the second problem: the caster would be pretty much vaporized, because the level of power to even begin the activation sequence, let alone finish the channeling...well, to put it simply, it's absurd. As in, me during a magic surge absurd. More, even. Significantly more. Thousands of thaums. Tens of thousands. Enough magic that it would take probably an entire Battalion of battlemages to activate it. Oh, but that's not enough. There's also something just...strange about it. I can't explain it any better than that, and I can't quantify it, which—believe me—frustrates me immensely. I can't pin down exactly what's odd, but something about it is just...so alien. Tartarus, if I even look at the lattice for too long, I start to get a headache again. Something about it is both fundamentally wrong and incredibly right at the same time, and its weirdly contradictory nature is driving me up the wall. I have no idea. I'm getting into stuff that I honestly can't explain, and it's kinda weirding me out. So basically, I felt compelled to draw the pattern from the picture in my brain. And yes, I am fully aware of how Tartarus-damned insane that sounds. Don't remind me. --- [1]: Enough to warrant totally losing your magic, at least for an extended period of time? [2]: No doubt the superstitious, paranoid, stupid part. [3]: For those unaware, a spell lattice is a spell—which, of course, can't be transcribed into common Equuish—written out as a geometric pattern. Ponies developed easier ways to record and transcribe spells for mnemonics and education centuries ago, though; spell lattices are incredibly outmoded and rare now. The fact that something like one is showing up in my dream is somewhat unsettling. --- Days later, and I'm still not even ready to get out of bed. My head still hurts occasionally, and my magic is barely making a resurgence. Despite myself, I'm worried. I know I've done some stupid stuff throughout this...adventure, if you want to call it that, but I've never been without magic for more than a few days at a time; the longest was probably the Canterlot ruins. This is dragging on and on; though I don't have a particularly regular sleep schedule anymore, what with all the passing out at arbitrary times, I can still assume by the amount of food I've consumed I've been in this bed for nearly two weeks, and I still can't even lift my saddlebags from their position by the door. Well, at the very least, the dreams have settled down some. I don't have them every time I sleep now. I mean, I still have them most of the time, but progress is progress. So out of commission, I'm left to introspection: pondering the intricacies of what's going on now, and how badly my brain is messed up. Since the Solar barracks were obliterated, Luna is undoubtedly winning the war on a simply battle-based scale; however, she seemed pretty shaken up, both by Rainbow's glowing beatdown and my seemingly-psychotic episode. At this point, thought, I couldn't care less who wins the war; as far as I know, I lose either way, so what's the point? I'm just going to stay out of it from now on. [1] It's none of my business who gods want to kill. So, that brings to mind an important question that I've wanted to ask Trixie, but haven't been able to because talking is currently pretty difficult: where on Equus I am. I wince at a jolt of pain in my head as I think: some kind of safehouse that Trixie knows about. I rotate my head laconically, looking for the first time at the window set in the wooden wall. It's dark out. Still in the Sovereignty. Passing through the demilitarized zone would be foolish anyway, and Trixie's smart. But that's about all I can tell from the window, and immediately after that, I feel the pulsing ache in my horn that always preempts my drops into unconsciousness. I tense up, telling myself that I can stay awake, and focus on a spot in the blanket covering me. I'm still focusing on that little spot when my eyes slam shut and I fall back, the slew of images already beginning. Six gemstones. Nothing else. An array of six, floating through black nothing. Six-pointed star. Lightning bolt. Butterfly. Balloon. Apple. Diamond-shaped gem. They glimmer with a bizarre not-light, and I suddenly realize each one is inscribed with a piece of the lattice pattern. Then I wake up. I'm surprised; I'm usually out for hours when that happens. It feels like I was only unconscious for a few minutes, though of course I could be mistaken. I frown suddenly. What was it Luna had said when Rainbow tackled her in the Sanctum? That she'd awakened "one of the six?" What six was she talking about? The six gemstones from my dream? It's the only working hypothesis I've got; nothing else I can think of makes any sense. So the question remains: exactly what are the gemstones? I have a few very vague ideas, but nothing solid to go off of. I remember reading in the ruins of Canterlot that a series of powerful artifacts called the Elements were shattered in the final confrontation with the Chaos King. In the visions I had while Luna was putting me to sleep—I know, not a whole lot to go off—I distinctly recall seeing two equine forms with six gemstones orbiting around them as they fired a beam of spectral power at a strange, mismatched figure. So these gems in my mind might be those Elements, whatever they really are. And then again, it circles back to what Luna said in her throne room as Rainbow was beating her up: you awakened one of the Six. One of the Six. One of the Elements? One of the gemstones, which might be entirely separate? Something totally different? I have no idea. [2] It doesn't help that I'm still afflicted with some sort of magical narcolepsy, since I'm passing out basically every other hour. Which, I suppose, is a definite improvement from every few minutes, but I'm not impressed; It's been a while, and I can still only keep my eyes open for an hour? But oh, that isn't the worst part. Not even close. Not by a long shot. I realize this as I take a deep breath and attempt to get up, hoping for a painless recovery. Then my eyes shoot wide, horror filling them as I realize something isn't as it should be. See...I can't feel—or move—my hind legs. Things just got a lot harder. I start hyperventilating as I feel a headache coming on. Something went wrong with my brain—I reacted badly to Luna's tranquilizing magic and had a stroke or something—and now my hind legs are paralyzed. As bad things to happen go, this is right up there with cracking my horn and/or going blind. I try to quickly run through what I know about the equine nervous system, but it's sadly lacking; my education never really covered the finer details of biology beyond how ponies tick, and how to make the ticking stop. Barely enough medical magic to knit together skin or fix a cornea, nothing that I could use to fix something wrong with my brain or spine. I'd need a professional magical doctor to avoid permanent damage to my neural circuit. [3] Actually, now that I think about it, it's entirely possible that Luna's spell that gave me that...attack is the best word, also messed with my circuit. That might be why my magic is out of whack and I can barely lift a quill pen for five minutes. Then a horrible thought occurs to me: circuit injuries can last for months or years, and sometimes they can last a lifetime. I could spend the rest of my life without any magic at all. It's all I can do to not sink into a morass of self-pity right then and there. I can't move. I can't do magic. I can barely stay awake. What good am I to anybody? --- [1]: Pfft. As if. I would never have the patience to be a bystander. [2]: Like I said: not a whole lot to go off of in figuring this particular puzzle out. [3]: As you may have guessed, the neural circuit, or as it's more technically called, the unicorn neuromagical circuit, is intrinsically linked with the brain and nervous system. Any operations performed on either have to be carefully monitored in case they have unforeseen consequences. --- Then, because things weren't feeling abrasive enough to me, Rainbow had to come into the room. Of course. She sees me lying there, staring sightlessly at the ceiling with tears beading around the corners of my eyes, and immediately knows that something's wrong. "Hey, Sparkle! What's going on?" Her voice, while peremptory and gruff, is nonetheless worried; there's a caring tone behind it that shows it. "I can't move my legs," I reply tonelessly, still staring at the tasteful pinewood above me. The fire crackles softly in the ensuing shocked silence. "What...What do you mean, you can't move your legs?" She asks, seeming almost in shock. Despite myself, I let out a flat, mirthless laugh. "Exactly what it sounds like. My hind legs. I can't move them. Can't do any magic either, except in fitful bursts. I am, for all intents and purposes, useless." The word is bitter in my mouth. Rainbow continues talking, but I tune her out, drifting off into a world of thought instead of one where I'm a cripple. Cripple. What an ugly word. That's the last thought through my mind before I pass out again. I have no idea where I am, but it's definitely a cave. I can smell the dank air, and the water droplets make muted plipping sounds as they drop from stalactites far above me into mirror-still pools, disturbing the perfect surface. I walk along unimpeded by my faulty nervous system, not fully in control of my own body, it feels like. My horn is lit up in a bright aura of light, casting away any darkness around me in the giant cave. The air is damp on my fur. Despite the odd surroundings, I am at peace; something feels like it's calming me, soothing my fears away. Everything about this place just feels RIGHT. As I look down, I jolt: my hoofsteps are leaving little pulses of light and shine out wherever I step, and they're all in the shape of that mysterious spell lattice. [1] I can almost feel its presence now; something familiar, yet just out of reach and out of mind. Before me, the cave narrows down to a small passageway, about as tall as three of me. At the end is a bright light shining blue-white, casting a soft glow down the path. My horn winks out; I don't need the light any longer. As I reach the end of the tunnel, the light becomes blinding, and I'm forced to cover my eyes. Staticky images blink before me in a seizure-inducing epileptic slideshow, showing...something else. My life, but not my life. My world, but not my world. A different me, a different place, a different time. I groan, eyes grinding unwillingly open as I wake. That was...strange. Not the fact that I had a weird dream; that's par for the course at this point. But all the others have been fragmented images so torn apart I could barely tell what they were. Not only was this dream incredibly vivid, it was also a single cogent scene, so perfectly done it felt more like a memory than a dream, though I've never seen that cave in my life. Rainbow's gone; she probably left once I fell asleep. I certainly don't blame her. Looking at my unconscious body probably isn't a very interesting activity for anypony. [2] My brow furrows. I swear it feels like I've been there, in that cave. I'm getting the most intense feeling of deja vu, which probably has to do with the fact that I just spent a while looking at my life without it actually being my life. I laconically turn my head to look at the candle. A few hours, maybe, I was out. Weird; it feels like so much less. I try to move my legs again, and shake my head with a sigh of disappointment and resignation as they remain firmly immobile and numb. A hollow feeling is left in my chest as I slough off the cover, taking a long, cold look at my hind legs. How could this happen? --- [1]: It's everywhere. Everywhere. [2]: Heh.