In another life, under different circumstances, Astrid imagined that she would have been borderline thrilled to discover that she had been blessed with supernatural powers. She would have seen it as something to be excited about, to be proud of.
Right now, however, sitting alone and hunched over between a pair of trashcans in a narrow side street, she was unable to see it as anything beneficial. To her, it was just another curse to add to an already lengthy and ever-growing list of reasons to hate the circumstances that had befallen her. To her, it was nothing more than another blow to her morale, broken as that already was, reminding her yet again just how much she had been changed, how much she had lost.
And just how far from home she was.
Her hope seemed to diminish with every passing moment, leaving Astrid with nothing but the desire to be freed from this nightmare. The aspiration of that actually being possible was now barely present, instilling in her the terrifying notion that this was her life now; reduced to nothing more than hiding in fear, scrounging for scraps until she eventually starved to death in the back of some alley, either forgotten or outright ignored by the world she found herself trapped in.
Going home was quickly was quickly devolving from a faint hope into a foolish pipe-dream.
She wrapped her hand around her necklace, looking at it with utter despondence in her eyes.
“Why did you do it?” she asked quietly, expecting no answers. She wanted to say more. She wanted to scream. But all that left her mouth was a mournful keen for what was lost as the very last memory of her father pushed its way to the forefront of her thoughts.
Her mind racing, her thoughts turned to the last time she had seen him. That smile he gave, telling her that everything was going to be alright. That he loved her. How could anyone do this to someone out of love?! The only possible explanation she could come with was that it had something to do with that stranger. That had to be it, there was no other possible alternative. Had he done something to her father, convinced him to get rid of her?
When that thought occurred to her, Astrid froze as she was reminded of something the stranger had said, just before leaving.
Everything that is a distraction must be disposed of. And I do mean everything.
What had he meant by that? And what did it have to do with. . . her. . .
The realization descended upon her like a mountain on her soul. She clutched at her heart, felt as though it were being crushed in a vice grip as she doubled over.
The world around her swayed. She felt sick.
Her hand brushed against her necklace.
Her grief faded, giving way to anger. She ripped the necklace from her throat in a fit of rage before throwing it against the opposite wall of the side street. It clinked against the brick before clattering on the cobblestone pavement. There it sat, glinting in what little light streamed into the side street. She stomped up to it, picked up a loose brick off the ground, and prepared to bring it down on the piece of jewelry, her face contorting into a vengeful snarl at what it represented as hot tears streamed down her cheeks and into her mouth.
She hesitated.
Her arm shook, just one movement away from shattering the necklace into a thousand jagged pieces. She wanted to do it, to crush it into smithereens. All it did was remind her of what her father had done to her.
And yet. . .
She could not do it.
Shaking in a combination of hateful rage, debilitating grief, and mind numbing terror, Astrid threw the brick as hard as she could against the ground, sending bits of it flying as it broke into little crimson chunks. She grasped her hair, felt the pain on her scalp when she pulled.
“Why?!” she cried, not caring if any of those stupid horse things heard. “Why did you do it?! Why did you let this happen?!”
Frantically, Astrid began to think of something, anything that would explain all of this, anything if it meant that her father. . . that he didn’t do this. . . because he was. . .
“No, no that’s not it. That’s not how it is Astrid. You're being stupid, stop thinking about that!” she said out loud, chastising herself for even entertaining the idea of it. And yet, the thought remained, a seed planted in the depths of her mind that gnawed at her incessantly, refusing to leave her mind in peace.
What if?
As of this moment, those two words caused Astrid more pain and heartache than anything else in her life to the point where she could hardly stand anymore as she sat down. What if that was true? What if her father really had done this to her as a way of following the orders of that strange man? If that was indeed the case, how much was she really worth to him? Did he ever love her as he claimed during the final moments she saw him, or was it all some sort of sick lie?
Astrid didn’t know if she could keep living if that were the case.
She had to think of something else, get her mind off such morbid thoughts. Astrid looked up, gazing forlornly at her necklace. She wanted to hate it. She wanted to just leave there on the ground and forget about it, but no matter what, she could not bring herself to do anything more than trudge over to it, whereupon she gingerly picked it up, cradling it in her hands as though it were an injured bird. The little angel gazed back at her, and for a brief moment she imagined it felt the same as she did. Lost and confused.
“I’ll find out,” she said softly to herself, cleaning it off with her thumb before placing it around her neck again. “There has to be more to it than that. He’s not that kind of person.”
As much as she wanted to believe the words coming out of her mouth, uncertainty still lingered in the back of her mind. Additionally, she was not at all certain as to how she even could find out whether her fears were true or not, as that required actually being able to get back home somehow. It was still a pipe dream, but if it was possible for her to tossed into another world, then it was possible to find a way back. At least, that was her reasoning, and it was all she had to keep her going.
At the moment though, she had to begrudgingly to put that goal on the sideline in favor of more immediate priorities, number one among them being finding something to eat. The bits of bread and tomatoes she had been able to scarf down before fleeing had left her severely wanting for more substantial portions, preferably made without straw and daisies. Astrid took a moment to reorient herself. She didn’t quite succeed, but enough to where she could focus on her objective as she set out once more into the streets of the marble city under the cover of the setting sun.
Although extremely hesitant to do so, Astrid returned to the plaza in the hopes that perhaps there was something left for her to scrounge up. Contrasting with the bustling crowd from before, the plaza was now almost completely empty. Nearly all of the stands and carriages had been closed up for the night, with very few being left open for the even fewer ponies still lingering about.
Glancing towards the fountain, Astrid spotted Trixie’s carriage, the stage having been stored away. Even from this distance, Astrid could see a fresh piece of parchment with words written in bold red lettering scrawled across it; a new ticket for the showmare to add to her collection.
Very few ponies were out and about at this time now, denying Astrid the luxury of being able to hide in a crowd, and of the few that still hung around before heading back to their homes, Astrid spotted two ponies in golden armor, one a Pegasus, the other a standard pony, each of them standing near the fountain to keep watch over the area, and she cursed. They could have been there as part of their regular duties, but she had a suspicious hunch that they were there because of her.
They were looking for her, and the thought of what they would do once they found her almost made Astrid decide to just wait until morning.
Her stomach growled, protesting against the idea. She was starving, and she had no way of knowing when she would be able to get another opportunity. She could always go back the way she came, but there was no guarantee she would be able to discover something edible, and she did not fancy dumpster diving as an option in the slightest. Which meant that if she wanted to eat, she had to see if there was a way for her sneak to one of the closed carriages in the hopes that they had something left over for her to scrounge up. As much as Astrid disliked the fact she was reducing herself to rooting through garbage, she rationalized by reminding herself that she had already stolen food. Barring that, there had to at least be leftovers that had been left unfinished, perhaps tossed in a trashcan. At least then it would still be sort of fresh. That wasn’t considered dumpster diving, right?
For argument's sake, Astrid convinced herself it wasn’t.
Which left the question of how she was going to do it without being spotted. Her thoughts flashed back to the incident in the carriage. She could at least try to-
Astrid shook the thought away. As tempting as it seemed to try and replicate the feat. . . in truth she was afraid of it. In addition to the fact that she was not sure what caused her to merge with the shadows like that to begin with, the thought of losing her physical form like that, with no idea how to control it, terrified her beyond words.
Eventually Astrid decided that it was too much of a risk to try and pilfer what she could while those Royal Guard ponies were around. She had to find something else, and she begrudgingly walked back the way she came.
It had been about an hour or so after Astrid had left the plaza behind. Strolling wearily down the sidewalk, completely lost in this maze of building and structures, she seriously began to reconsider going back, if only because she was somewhat familiar with the layout of the area. Here, she had absolutely no bearings, no idea where she currently was. For all she knew she could be on the outskirts, or even at the very center of the city. All the while her stomach continued to churn in grim protest at her plight.
Going back was not an option. She would be found if she went back, she just knew it, and that fear motivated her to continue onward, mindful to stay out of the flickering light of the street lamps. She was not as worried about being spotted out here, she was mostly doing it to avoid hurting her eyes. Even at night, when the sun had long since descending past the horizon and the moon had taken its place, Astrid still found almost every sort of bright light uncomfortable. At least now that it was night, she could finally remove the tarp from over her head. It had long since begun to itch something fierce.
Another hour of amiless wandering passed, the lights in the houses having gone dark as their residents called it in for the night, prompting Astrid to wonder where she was going to lay her head to rest, a distraction that was only slightly less grim than her empty stomach. She supposed she could roll out the tarp into a sort of bed sheet. It would be cold. It was already quite chilly actually; she could practically see her breath in the moonlight. She had to endure it though, even if it meant walking all night.
It was then that she spotted just what she needed. A small little deli set back in a shallow alleyway that, despite its location, stood out quite profusely from its neighbors with its orange walls and floral patterns, vaguely reminding her of some Indian restaurants she had visited in her past life. The most eye-catching part was the elephants’ heads holding a ladle painted above the door. Next to the door was a sign, which she assumed to be the name of the establishment, the words inscrutable to her. Below that was what appeared to be a list of specials. Astrid ran up to the window, peering inside. Curiously, she was able to see perfectly despite it being completely dark inside as she scanned the interior, already wondering what sort of food they might have stored in the kitchen.
Unable to stand the hunger for much longer, Astrid quickly scoured her immediate surroundings for something that she could use to get inside, eventually settling on just picking up a potted plant, hefting it above her head in preparation to send the little ficus flying through the window.
Breathing heavily, both from her exertions as well as anticipation of finally having a decent meal, she readied herself. . .
She stopped.
Her mind settled from its frantic pace, and she dropped the plant, the pot shattering on the cobblestone.
What was she doing? Was she really this desperate that she was willing to break into a restaurant? She may not trust the ponies at all, but when she stopped to think, actually think about it, they were just normal people, at least as normal as Astrid was willing to consider.
And she was about to rob them.
Astrid looked down at her hands. Saw the pointed fingers, saw the glowing marks. Had she really changed so much that her she was willing to commit a crime? When she was little, she had cried for hours because she thought the police were going to put her in jail when she put a doll in the shopping cart without telling her father, and now. . .
She just didn’t know. She didn’t want to do this, but what other choice did she have?
Suddenly feeling more sick than hungry, Astrid turned around to leave.
She froze when she saw the pony that was standing behind her. A unicorn mare with an orangish coat, and a magenta colored puffy mane and tail. She looked at Astrid with wide eyes, clearly not expecting to find an imp before what Astrid assumed was her establishment. A set of keys and a pair of paper bags filled to the brim with groceries floated next her, wrapped in a soft pink glow.
She saw. She had to have seen what Astrid was about to do, and the girl began to back away, fearing punishment. In the back of her mind she reminded herself to avoid making eye contact, as that would only make the situation worse.
“I-I’m sorry. Please don’t hurt me, I-I was just so hungry, I wasn’t thinking right-“
“Oh, you poor thing!” The mare said unexpectedly, halting Astrid before she broke down completely. She bent her head low, her eyes full of concern as she slowly stepped towards Astrid. The whole time Astrid continued to look for a possible means of escape. The location of the restaurant meant that she was effectively cornered, her only exit blocked by the mares’ presence.
The mare halted her advance when Astrid continued to back away, seeing very clearly how terrified the girl was. Setting the groceries down, she knelt down, putting herself at eye level with Astrid as she extended a hoof towards her.
“Please, do not be frightened little one,” she said softly, her voice laced with a thick accent. “I am not going to hurt you.”
Astrid eyed the mare suspiciously, glancing at the hoof. She wanted to distrust this pony, to believe that she only meant to do harm for her attempted robbery of her restaurant. But her eyes. . . they held nothing resembling malice or hate like Astrid expected. In them, all Astrid saw was kindness, a heartfelt empathy and concern for the girl that she did not expect to be shown towards her.
Astrid was not sure how to respond, and her indecision kept her from either fleeing from the mare or approaching her.
The mare retracted her hoof, a look of hurt flashing across her muzzle. The expression stung Astrid as well, and she felt guilty for not accepting her kindness. Changing tactics, the mare then said, “I get the feeling that you are hungry. Is that so?”
Astrid paused, then nodded, still making sure to keep eye contact as minimal as possible. So far, this mare was the only one willing to give Astrid the benefit of the doubt, and while that was perhaps Astrid’s own fault for keeping contact with the ponies to a minimum, she did not want to jeopardize it by letting the mare see her eyes.
“I was just coming back from market, getting some groceries for tomorrow. If you like, I could go and make you a little something. Would you like it if I did that, hm?”
Again, Astrid was stunned by the mares offer, and was unsure if she should accept it. Going against her instincts on the faith that the mare was telling her the truth in that she meant Astrid no harm, she gingerly nodded her head a second time. Smiling warmly, the mare stood back up, dusted herself off and said, “In that case, then just give me a few minutes to fix something up for you.”
Her horn giving off a soft pink glow, Astrid watched curiously as the bags of groceries were once again wrapped in a similar aura, and not for the first time she wondered how the phenomenon functioned as the mare trotted past to the front door of the restaurant. With a turn of the keys, she opened the door and stepped inside as the lights inside came on, casting a warm glow through the windows.
Astrid recognized that she had an opportunity to make her escape. What if the mare was lying to her, only wanting to lure Astrid into a false sense of security before springing some sort of trap on her? She shook off such thoughts, identifying her fear as based on unjustified suspicion. As much as her gut told her to run, Astrid chose to remain, reasoning that if she wanted to survive, or even be able to go home, then she was eventually going to have to rely on outside help anyway.
So, Astrid waited, passing the time by kicking at stray pebbles on the ground and twiddling with her hair. About ten minutes after the mare went inside the restaurant she returned, and Astrid immediately took notice of the steaming porcelain bowl hovering next to her. Moving the bowl closer, the mare began to say, “I hope that this is good enough for you. I didn’t have a lot of-“
She was unable to finish her statement before Astrid rushed over and snatched the bowl out of the air, causing her to yelp in surprise. The spoon that had been so generously provided for her went completely ignored as Astrid slurped up the noodle soup eagerly. It tasted like heaven to her as she was finally able to fill her stomach. Not even bothering to savor the taste, she emptied the bowl within a minute, after which she finally took a breath, wiping her mouth with her forearm.
She paused, noticing the bemused expression the mare was giving her, reciprocating it with a sheepish grin. Clearing her throat, she set the bowl gently on the ground in front of the mare, and dipped her head in thanks.
“Thank you,” she said sincerely. “Really, I appreciate your kindness.” Astrid had not meant to sound so formal, but she felt that the occasion called for it. A look of mild confusion appeared on the mares face for a brief moment, causing Astrid to wonder what the matter was. Was it something she had said?
Whatever the case had been, the expression vanished as quickly as it had appeared, and the mare dipped her head in return, retrieving the bowl from the ground. “You are very welcome, little one.” She glanced behind her at the restaurant, her ears flattening against her skull ever so slightly. “I am glad I was able to help, but I am afraid that is all I can do.” Astrid tilted her head in question, and the mare continued, “I would be happy to offer you a place to stay for the night, but my father. . .” Her face morphed into a slight grimace of disapproval. “He would not allow it.”
Astrid flinched at the word.
“As such, I am afraid that I must bid you farewell, and goodnight.” Dipping her head to Astrid one last time, the mare turned away from Astrid, trotting into the restaurant. The door shut behind her with more force than would be considered necessary, and Astrid ears twitched when he she heard the locks click into place.
She was alone again. As much as she would have liked to request to stay at least for one night, she didn’t want to push her luck either. Considering she was about to break into what must be her home, the mare had been exceedingly generous in not immediately chasing her off or calling the authorities on her like she were a common thief despite catching her in the act.
She was reminded of how cold it was as the warmth of her meal gradually wore off, and she clutched her arms around herself in a vain attempt to stave off the chill. Recognizing there was nothing else for her here, Astrid turned around, and started walking back the way she came.
She absentmindedly contemplated the mares’ actions, wondering why she had taken the time to offer Astrid assistance when it was clear that she had done nothing to earn it, doing the opposite in fact.
“She must not have seen my eyes,” she mumbled sourly. She would have liked to believe otherwise, but the feeling persisted that if the mare had made eye contact for any length of time longer than a few seconds, then she likely would have reacted in the same manner as all the other ponies had. It was a sobering thought, and one that made Astrid consider possibilities on how to remedy this unfortunate truth.
She shivered, felt goosebumps spreading across her obsidian skin. It was an issue to be addressed another time, when she was not in immediate danger of freezing. Why was it so cold in this city anyway, were they somewhere far up North? Did North even exist in a place like this? She supposed marble and plaster might not be the greatest at retaining heat, but surely there was a reason why Astrid felt as though her fingers began to feel numb even when she stuck them in her armpits. Maybe it was getting close to Winter or something. If that was the case, then Astrid was going to be in serious danger if she did not find some way to keep warm throughout the night.
Unsure of what other alternatives she had, Astrid shambled into a long and narrow side-street, seeing a collection of bedsheets and assorted clothes hanging from clotheslines above her head. Even talking horses needed to do their laundry sometimes it seemed. Too focused on keeping warm to worry about the fact that she was going to steal them, Astrid dragged a trashcan over, climbing on top in an effort to reach them.
Her frustration grew when she saw that they were still far outside her grasp. Undeterred, she jumped as high as she could.
Her error was made painfully obvious when she slipped upon landed on the trashcan, falling to the hard ground with a harsh cry of alarm, followed by a pained yelp as she cradled her bruised arm. It was not seriously injured, thank God for that, but it left Astrid struggling to keep her composure as she sat against the cold wall, fighting to keep herself from crying.
With nothing else to do, Astrid laid her head down, using her own mass of hair as a cushion, with nothing but the tarp and her night gown, the only other thing covering her small body, to rely on to shield her from the cold of the night. Just before her eye closed, she noticed the moon overhead, slowly soaring across the dark blue sky.
Her last thought before the paltry comfort of sleep took hold was that she swore it looked like there was a unicorn head on it, gazing down at her from high above.
Sitting alone in her chambers, the only thing that kept Celestia company throughout the remainder of the night was sound of her quill, held aloft in the golden aura of her magic, scratching against parchment as she signed her name along the dotted line, completing one more document out of the dozens of others that laid across her desk, separated into two stacks set apart from each other at opposite ends.
The one on the right were the ones that she had already completed, while the stack on the left were those that the Princess still had yet to look over and decide whether or not they appropriate enough to warrant her signature. To her mild annoyance the latter was presently much larger than the former, indicating that would be spending at least another few hours or so reading through them. Setting the completed document into its proper place, it was soon replaced by yet another to be signed as Celestia skimmed through its contents, keeping a watchful eye out for any key words that would hint at some form of dishonesty.
She never could be too careful, especially when it concerned new regulations proposed by the court, which largely consisted of the nobility. While some were mostly benign, every once in a while Celestia would find something that would make her question the moral integrity of her little ponies.
It seemed that tonight was rather slow however, as she only had to send back a grand total of fourteen documents and proposals, each one laced with subtle, and sometimes not so subtle wordplay that might have slipped past a less experienced mare. Celestia saw through their attempts at subverting the law in favor of padding their coffers. Such papers either wound up in the revision pile off to the side if they were not too heinous in their requests, or straight into the trash bin if they were beyond saving.
A sensation like that of somepony breathing down her neck touched her senses, sending an icy crawl down her back.
Celestia immediately stopped. For the second time in two nights she had felt this strange sensation, this looming feeling that something was not quite right. She stood up, walked away from her desk to look outside from her balcony, attempting to discern what had caused it.
Nothing.
For some odd reason, this did little to dissuade Celestia’s suspicion that there was something happening out there in the night, a presence or force that she was only superficially aware of, unable to see. It frustrated her, and the fur along her spine raised ever so slightly in agitation.
Knowing that stewing over the matter would not help her, Celestia resigned herself to being kept in dark, at least for the time being, as she sat back down at her desk. Just what had caused it, Celestia wondered as her brow furrowed while she dipped her quill in the inkwell to her right, coating the tip in a fresh coat of black ink.
A knock came at her door, interrupting her thoughts on the matter and startling Celestia enough that she accidentally tipped the inkwell over, spilling its contents all over the paper she was reviewing. Groaning in disgust at the mess she had unintentionally made, Celestia picked up the soiled paper, knowing that it was beyond saving. “Enter,” she called as she stood up, feeling her joints pop a little from sitting for so long. There was only so much a plush cushion could do for the hindquarters of a centuries old alicorn after all. At her admission, the doorknob turned and the door pushed open to reveal a middle aged mare wearing a pair of sharp looking glasses. Celestia noticed that her usually immaculate black mane and tail sported a few stray hairs and split ends as the mare trudged in, carrying upon her back two heavy looking paper binders, held together with what seemed an entire cabinets worth of paper clips.
“Raven?” Celestia said in mild surprise, tossing the ruined paper into the trash bin before hurrying over to the mare. “Here, let me help you with that.” Before Raven could say anything in protest, as the Princess knew she would, the binders were enveloped in her magic as they were lifted off of the mares' back. Setting them off to the side, Celestia regarded her assistant with a friendly smile, while Raven only had a look of annoyance to offer back as she glared at the much taller pony.
“I was fine, thank you very much,” Raven muttered crossly. However Celestia paid no mind to the tone that her assistant was taking with her and proceeded to trot over and wrap pull her in for a feathery embrace with an outstretched wing. Raven merely sighed.
“I didn’t know you were back yet,” Celestia said. “I thought you would be would be in Neighpon for at least another week. Did you not enjoy your vacation?”
Pulling herself out of the embrace, Raven straightened herself up a little before she answered. “On the contrary your highness, it was the most fun I've had in years. The Emperor was actually rather pleased with the idea of appointing a new dignitary. But you know, after a while I just couldn't help but miss work.” Glancing at the thick stacks of documents as well as the mess left by the inkwell, Raven remarked, “I see that you have quite a bit on your hooves as well. Are the Bluebloods trying to get you let them have uninhibited access to the treasury? Again?”
“Nothing quite as exciting as that I’m afraid,” Celestia responded. “Just their typical attempts at exploiting loopholes in the law. If you’re wondering about the mess, I just spilled some ink. No need to worry about it though, I’ll just tell Amadeus that it got lost in transit. Heaven knows he’ll have a new one written up before the end of the day,” she said with a roll of her eyes. Raven let out a chuckle at hearing the Princess’ attempt at humor, and already Celestia could feel the stress that had been weighing down on her mind gradually ease away as she added, “I’m glad to have you back Raven.”
“Of course you are,” Raven answered as she turned around, trotting towards the door. “You’d be lost without me if I let you deal with everything by yourself.”
Chuckling at the comment, Celestia sighed as she said, “Well, I suppose that I should let you go. You’ve undoubtedly had a long trip. You should get some rest while you can. You may resume your regular duties tomorrow.” Raven looked like she was about to protest against the advice, but no sooner than had Celestia make her suggestion did she let a tired yawn escape her lips, covering her mouth with a hoof.
“Yeah, I suppose you’re right,” Raven replied as she trotted off, heading towards the door. “Today was market day after all. Got to go and stock up on a few things anyway. Have a good night Princess.” Celestia dipped her head a little in acknowledgement as she watched her assistant go. However just before she left Celestia spoke up.
“Excuse me, Raven?” she said, causing the mare to stop just before she walked around the corner. Celestia considered her next sentence, unsure precisely how to speak what was on her mind. “You. . . you would not happen to know of anything strange going on would you, either in or around the city?”
Raven cocked an eyebrow at Celestia. “What do you mean by strange?” she questioned. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to be a little more specific than that Princess, because there’s a lot of weird stuff that goes on in Canterlot.”
Celestia thought for a moment, suddenly finding it difficult to discuss the matter, but eventually decided to just drop it. Shaking her head, she said, “Never mind. It’s nothing really, just a feeling. I think I must just be overworking myself, that’s all.”
Raven’s eyebrow was still raised as she regarded Celestia with an inquisitive expression, clearly wanting to probe further for a credible answer. She apparently chose not to though as she simply said, “Alright then if you say so Princess. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight Raven,” Celestia responded, bidding her assistant a fond farewell as she left, closing the chamber doors behind her and leaving the Princess by herself once more. Celestia returned to her desk as a sigh escaped her left her lips, and casually cleaned up the blotches of ink with a flick of her magic. Once her workspace was clear, she sat, resuming her usual duties.
It looked as though she would have to pull another all-nighter.
Astrid awoke, her eye slowly cracking open as the general hustle and bustle of the city around her stirred her from her peaceful slumber, thrusting her consciousness into the waking world with all of the gentleness and caring of a train ramming into a brick wall.
She had dreamt again, the visions she bore witness to in her sleep leaving her feeling morose and longing for home. Images of the front door to her house with her father standing just inside lingered in her thoughts as questions she did not have answers to resurfaced.
Unwilling to dwell on them, Astrid opened her mouth to let out a mighty yawn and stretched, feeling strangely constricted in her movements. When she opened her eyes, she deduced that it must have been around dawn or something, as it was still considerably dim with tinges of bright orange occupying her field of view. However, she was rendered mildly befuddled. Didn’t she fall asleep in an alleyway or something? Why was it that she could not really see anything?
As awareness returned to her and the cogs in her brain began to spin, Astrid noticed that her vision was not impaired, merely obstructed by something covering her. A warm blanket shielding her from the outside world, enveloping her tiny frame in a cozy little orange cocoon.
“When did I get a blanket?” she wondered aloud, rubbing her the sand of her eyes.
As soon as the question was asked, her eyes immediately shot open to their fullest extent, noticing with increasing alarm that her “blanket” seemed to strangely be made of strands of bright orange thread.
She jumped up, flailing her arms around wildly, stumbling around and bumping into everything while repeatedly shouting “Get it off!” After a few moments of panic her hair finally reverted back to its original shape and position on her head, leaving Astrid leaning against the wall, breathing heavily. Pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration, Astrid wondered bitterly if there was anything else about her unfamiliar body she should start worrying about. She did not particularly care for glowing in the dark and her hair apparently having a mind of its own.
Calming down a bit, Astrid remembered that it had protected her from the cold while she slept. As much as she wanted to condemn her own body, she had to admit the fact that, on the surface at least, certain aspects of it had been of great benefit to her.
It did not mean she had to like it, Astrid decided, though neither was she going to continue to begrudge it. She might even begin to actually like it, assuming she could control it. Right now, she was none too keen on the idea having what might essentially be an extra limb she had no command over. Reminded of when she had crushed a trashcan as though it were made of tinfoil, Astrid sat down with a length of her hair cradled in her hands. Perhaps, she wondered, if she tried hard enough she could repeat the event.
She first took a few deep breaths, calming herself. “Alright, here goes nothing.”
Concentrating as hard as she could to exclusion of all else, Astrid focused all her attention and willpower on the orange locks. Her brow furrowed when no results were forthcoming, and she growled in exasperation.
Just then a thought occurred to her just as she was about to give up. Perhaps she was doing it all wrong. Beforehand she had been actively trying to command it to do what she desired, giving it a mental order to obey her. Maybe if she instead. . .
Concluding that she didn’t have anything to lose, Astrid tried again. However, instead of trying to get her hair to obey her, she tried to think of it like she would her own arms; mere extensions of herself that did not require conscious input to influence. For minutes she kept at it, to the point where she began to go red in the face from the amount of concentration she was putting into the effort, while also trying keep from putting in as little effort as possible.
Then, ever so slightly, the very tips of her hair curled inward into a little ball.
“Yes!” Astrid shouted, throwing her arms up in triumph. As soon as she did so her grasp on it faded, and the locks reverted back into limp threads. It was not much, and there was very little Astrid imagined she could with it right now, but at that moment she was willing to overlook that in favor of taking any victory she could get, no matter how miniscule.
It was a start, and it was much needed boost in confidence that Astrid found herself in desperate need of as she slumped against the wall. The effort had taken more out of her than she expected, leaving her almost breathless. Regardless, Astrid was happy about it, and she pumped her fist weakly in the air.
“Whoo-hoo,” she muttered, a grin crossing her face.