The first thing that may happen to somepony when they wake up is to ask themselves one question, “Where am I?” That very same question entered my sore head when my consciousness escaped the darkness. My eyes blinked a few times, the entire scene before me not familiar.
I was on a soft couch surrounded by walls that had a red-rose wallpaper. The light was very dim like a foggy day from overcast. Pictures of a family I knew nothing about clung to the walls. Their smiling faces attempted to bring light of their own but unfortunately failed. My group was in a wide open living room as they sat quietly with one another. Most of the mares were clumped up with each other, while some sat in pairs, and others alone. One couple, a mare and a stallion, whispered quiet words to each other while nuzzling their muzzles. Even in the time of hopelessness, love could still be found.
Blue was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps Groak gave him back to the Storm Creature he belonged to.
Children quietly blew at balls of dust, silently passing the time with a mute activity. Since I was quite the inventor for games, I helped create something that might be allowed for the foals to enjoy. When I did invent the simple game, Groak was impressed and allowed the little ones to have one game of fun, since it didn't create any noise. Their game involved trying to blow their clump of dust into their opponent’s ring while preventing their opponents from scoring by blowing back at their foe’s clump. Rings would be anything from a collection of rocks in a circle, to a circle drawn on the ground.
Ponies I began to recognize started to stare at me as I stirred. Before I could ask any questions, a mare said, “He’s awake, Groak.”
An armchair too small for Groak clung to his body as he stood. All activities stopped as Groak shook the chair off, the furniture falling to the ground with a nasty thump.
Instead of interrupting the foals, the Storm Creature walked around the children. Groak’s tall figure loomed over me, my mind fully awake, but my body was still half-asleep.
“Move over,” he grumbled. One small adjustment of my body reminded me of every injury I had endured. Especially my underside; the rug burn was ripe and red. Still, I quickly scrambled out of Groak’s way. I was not pleased with how he treated me, but I still had to listen to him.
Groak sat down as carefully as he could, but his weight broke something in the couch. He grumbled a little with irritation before looking down at me. I opened my mouth to ask how long I was asleep, but Groak held up his paw and gestured me to come close to him.
I was confused by what the gesture meant. Again, I listened and sat a few inches away from Groak. He leaned his massive mask down at me and whispered, “I told the others another Storm Creature tried to take you away to explain why you were asleep. They don't know about you not listening to me, and me forcing to… you know.”
The more time I spent alone with Groak, the more time I became puzzled with him. When it was him and I, he was cheery and excited with almost anything I suggested. But when the other Storm Creatures were around, he was a brute like the rest of his kind. I couldn't tell which side of him was more real. All I could do was hope his kindness was no lie.
Groak placed his paws behind his head, and he began to boast, “Horseshoe, I am glad to know you are alive and well! I cannot believe you were standing after that thief tried to take you by throwing you down the hall back at the castle!”
Funny how Groak wanted me to lie to make myself look strong and make himself look less of a villain. Playing the liar, I carefully said, “If I can take a hit from you, then… perhaps the other Storm Creatures are… nothing compared to you?” If he was looking for a compliment, I did what I could to deliver.
“I know!” Groak rubbed a big paw on my head, roughing up my mane. “Horseshoe, I have come to realize something that I want everypony here to recognize.” My head dipped. I hated when Groak gloated to the group about me. “You are not only a pony of fantastic creativity, but also initiation and endurance. Nopony had to tell you to step forward and pull the Princess all the way to the castle.” My ears retreated, knowing my heart was what yanked me forward. I did not want to believe that Twilight was captured. And when I saw her in the cage, I- “You can also take a punch. When that little runt, Grubber, that follows Tempest around struck you, not once did you move.”
A smile I thought was lost forever found its way on my face. “He wasn't so tough,” I admitted. “I barely felt it.” Of course, Grubber’s final punch did sting a bit. But if Groak was gloating about me, I chose to join in on some of the fun. The foals were invested in my talk with Groak, their eyes wide with interest.
“How hard did he try to hit you?” a colt asked.
I shrugged, “I don't know. I couldn't tell because I didn't feel it.” The children ate up the lie and looked at each other with amazement. It was funny how the little ones gazed at me with awe; as if I was some hero to them.
Too bad I knew I did not fit their criteria. If I was a hero, Princess Twilight would have been freed by my hooves. My non-existent strength would have bent her cage’s bars like they were hot, flimsy metal. Twilight and I would then fight against the Storm Creatures, defeat Tempest, combat the Storm King, and to end it all, I would sacrifice myself to protect Twilight Sparkle from a fatal blow while she fires the last attack to end it all. And as I died, she would kiss me on the lips before I too grew wings like her.
But my fantasy was nothing more than a fictional tale. A tale only the strongest were worthy of.
The home my group took refuge in was suddenly engulfed in a darkness. Everypony who was close to somepony bunched up even closer to each other. I myself was startled by the change in light. Only Groak made any noticeable movement and got up from the couch. He looked out the window to see what had engulfed the light.
“It’s nighttime,” Groak said.
At once, my heart was lifted high up in my chest. The only pony I knew who rose the moon was… “Princess Luna...” I muttered.
Every ear in the room perked up at my words. A wave of whispers weaved among the ponies. As for myself, I couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed with joy. Princess Twilight had done it! What ever she did, she had actually done it! She saved the other Princesses!
But my joy was evaporated by confusion when the home filled with light again. “Now it’s… daytime,” Groak said. His massive paw scratched his head, perhaps just as confused as I was. Then the darkness returned. Then the light came back. Like a flick of the switch, the light came and went before coming to a complete halt.
When the flickering stopped, there was a little more light than what I had adapted to since my enslavement. Being more curious than the rest of my group, I got up from the couch. Every nerve told me to stay put, but I waded through the aching pain; I was used to it.
Groak looked down at me when I came into his view before looking back at the sky. “What do you think is happening?” he asked me.
“I don’t know,” was all I could say.
As we stood at the window, something even stranger moved down the empty street of Canterlot. A cluster of bodies pulled a massive cake that proved to be higher than any treat I’ve ever seen. Perhaps a Storm Creature requested one to be made fit for their size. A feline on two legs walked at the head of the haulers. When the ponies who pulled the cart came closer, my day became even worse.
Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie, Fluttershy, Rarity, and Applejack all pulled the massive cake with expressions of defeat and misery. I was curious as to who the feline was, but there was no doubt that he was with the Storm King. He walked so proudly with his paper in his paw and... apron on his figure? When I noticed the feline’s apron, something felt off. I would expect somepony like Pinkie Pie to be wearing it. Not to mention, Spike was propped up top, blowing a flame from his mouth like a candle.
Groak grumbled, his head slowly turning as the wagon passed by. “Wait here…” he said. He stomped over to the front door, picking up his spear along the way. “Nopony leaves,” Groak ordered before exiting the house and closing the door. At once, everypony stood up and went to any window that was available to see what was going on outside.
I wanted a better view of the outside world and chose to make for the door. As I waded through the bodies of ponies, a filly stepped in my way and asked, “Where are you going?”
“Going to get a better view,” I said as I walked to the door. The foals noticed what I was doing and followed in my hoofsteps. I cracked the front door just enough for me to see the cake pass by. A small cluster of bodies formed at my legs, the foals climbing over one another to see the outside world. I allowed some more visibility to the little ponies and opened the door a little more. The door hinges squeaked loudly like an alarm to inform everypony what I was up to. But I heard nopony speak up, and I could only guess that everypony was more invested with what was going on outside.
A small body peaked from a street corner and quickly hobbled after the cake. It was Grubber. Instead of getting angry at the sight of the runt, I whispered to the foals, “You see him? That little one?”
“Yeah,” one of them answered.
“He was the one who punched me.”
“The one who hit you, but you didn’t feel it?”
“Yup!”
A foal tapped my leg and said, “What are you waiting for? Go beat him up!”
As much as a good kick to his head might have relieved some frustration, I simply replied, “Let’s just watch him for now.”
And we did. Grubber hopped onto the back of the wagon, struggled a bit as he climbed, and stood proud like he accomplished something great. His arm swiped at the side of the cake.
And he suddenly went stiff. “Gua-!” Before I knew it, he was sucked into the cake.
And then, from within the tall dessert, several bodies burst out of it in a spectacle of frosting and flare. A band of what looked to be griffins on two legs lept into action with swords and hooks, and they began to combat the Storm Creatures. Among the bodies who jumped from the cake was a pegasus with an impressive wingspan. She had to dodge a few spears before landing in front of the wagon. To my great pleasure, the ponies who were pulling the cake were freed from their harnesses, thanks to the tall pegasus.
It was chaos in the street; great, glorious, and cake-stained chaos. I heard cheering erupt from behind and below me as a mix of known and unknown heroes began to fight back against the Storm Creatures. A blur of rainbow dashed here and there, knocking every tall foe it bounced into; the signature flair by Rainbow Dash. One Storm Creature was felled by Pinkie Pie because of… cupcakes. Maybe she made her opponent succumb to a sugar comma? Rarity and the feline made a combined effort to incapacitate a Storm Creature with style. And Applejack simply did what she was known for to any who opposed her: bucking.
As I was filled with hope and joy to see the Storm Creatures fall one by one, I saw Fluttershy skittishly trying to avoid the violence happening around her. I couldn’t hold that against the yellow pegasus. Nopony around Ponyville saw Fluttershy as a mare who looked for trouble. However, despite her attempt to avoid conflict, a Storm Creature stopped her retreat.
She looked up at it with no fear in her eyes, and she began talking to the Storm Creature. Instead of using the massive spear in its paw, the Storm Creature stood tenaciously. I wondered to myself, what Storm Creature would not fight alongside their comrades to fend off the aggressors. It wasn’t a longshot, but I was not sure if it was safe to assume Fluttershy was talking to Groak. Every Storm Creature wore the same uniform and was equipped the same weapons. The only way for me to distinguish one Storm Creature from another was their voice.
Because Fluttershy’s conversation stood out more than the actual fighting, I was fixated on the pony and Storm Creature. Before long, the tall spear the behemoth was holding leaned its weapon against the wall and placed both paws on its mask.
“Look!” a filly from below me cried out, “I think Fluttershy made that big one cry!”
I could not tell if the Storm Creature was truly crying, but that didn’t mean I was not disinterested in Fluttershy’s effect on the dark-blue being. The Storm Creature removed both paws from its face and turned its head toward where I was standing. A large finger pointed straight at me as Fluttershy’s eyes met mine.
“I think… that one is Groak,” the same filly who spoke moments ago said.
There was no doubt about it. The Storm Creature was Groak. I was in shock. Why was he crying? He wasn’t hurt or damaged by anything, so why would Groak be anywhere near sad? I would expect him to be enraged by the intruders. But he refused to fight. All Groak did was sit and cry.
“Fluttershy!” a combination of voices cried out. I looked down the road to see the colorful group of Twilight’s friends gathered with the feline in a group. In a carefree leap, Fluttershy jumped away from Groak, leaving him to cry alone. Groak waved a paw at her before standing up.
The number of unconscious bodies that littered the streets meant nothing to me as Groak walked toward the home that housed his ponies. He left his spear, the object he loves to keep in his sight, on the wall.
As he came forward, Groak reached for his mask and began to remove it. A cold chill ran down my neck, and I wondered both why he was removing his mask, and what was his face was going to look like.
The foals at my legs retreated while I held fast at the door. Just as he was within arm’s reach, I opened the door. “Horseshoe…” Groak said, “...I’m sorry…” And finally, the Storm Creature unveiled his face to me.