//------------------------------// // Epilogue: Part 1 - Awakening // Story: The Piano Man // by The Sentient Cloud //------------------------------// My eyes feel so heavy, and I feel so sleepy - very sleepy. I feel warm, and pleasant. A little part of me thinks it may be a little too warm, but I’m not really one to get irritated over small things any more. So sleepy. Not tired, but sleepy. The kind of warm, fuzzy sleepy that you wake up with in the morning. The kind that you want to embrace, and sink back into. What was my dream? Normally I can remember it when I’ve just woken up, but right now I can’t. Maybe I didn’t dream at all. That’s nice. Most of my dreams lately have involved fire, my head, and Trixie. ‘Trixie.’ The mare’s name echoes through my hazy mind. Why is that happening? Trixie’s probably going to come in to wake me up soon. Then I’ll have to rub the sleep out my eyes and fix my ‘thin-sleeping-bag-on-the-floor’ head in time for the first show of the day. “No. No you won’t.” ‘Really? Why not? I’ve been performing two shows a day for… a while.’ “You don’t have a show to play today, or ever again. Remember? The Gala?” ‘The Gala….I played… and everypony cheered, like always… and… I… Oh.’ “Twilight, Rarity, and Cadance. They tried to free you. And then Trixie came.” ‘That’s right… she… wait a minute. She stabbed me.’ “She did. And then you used the bar.” ‘I did… and then… Wait, where am I? Why am I talking with myself?’ “You aren’t. You just need to open your eyes.” ‘I’m sorry?’ “Your eyes. Just open them.” ‘My eyes…’ *** Oh god. They really are heavy. I don’t remember my eyelids being made of lead before the Gala. Did someone surgically remove all my skin and replace it with the metal they make dumbbells out of? “Ugh…” I mumble, my eyelids twitching. “Eyes…” “You can open them. It’s easy.” The voice sounds distant, and distorted by a warbling echo. My eyelids are so heavy. They feel a little lighter than before, but it still seems like an impossible task. The voice keeps talking. “Take your time. You’ve been through a lot.” “Ugh… I can feel it…” I mumble. “Trixie…” “We can talk about Trixie when your eyes are open.” The voice is male, calm, measured. It speaks in a warm tone, and does so slowly, taking care to properly enunciate each word clearly. Taking a few seconds to just breathe, I try and focus on what I can feel. I am warm – which is because I’m in a bed. I am sleepy, because I have just woken up. I smell disinfectant, and can hear the steady beeping of a heart monitor – so I’m definitely in a hospital. Well then. It’s good to know that I wasn’t left to die – although I have to wonder how ponies would know how to treat a wound on a human. I need answers. What happened? Was everypony okay? Is Trixie dead? Mumbling half hearted curses, I finally grit my teeth, and slowly force my eyes open. The light in the room is dimmed – something I couldn’t be more grateful for. Even so, the small amount of light burns my eyes, making me wince in pain. Aside from that, I can’t see much. I am indeed in a bed, and there is a computer screen next to me, running on its lowest lighting level, showing my heartbeat. “Good.” The male voice replies. “I’m going to slowly bring up the lighting. Is that okay?” “Uh… Yeah…” I cough slightly. I still feel tired – No. Not tired, but weak. It’s understandable, I suppose. For all intents and purposes, I did get shanked. Ever so slowly, the lighting in the room increases, with the overhead bulb slowly growing from ultra-dim to a more normal level of lighting - still slightly darker than average. I watch wearily as more shapes come into focus - Medical trays, tubes running into my arms, and finally a blue stallion in a lab-coat. I’m not sure what I was hoping for. Doctor Stables? The Doctor? Both are from Ponyville. So instead, I gaze neutrally at this unfamiliar doctor as he slowly walks over to me. “How are you feeling?” “Confused.” I speak quietly. I feel so very weak. It’s tiring just to talk. “Am I… in Canterlot?” “You’re in the Canterlot Private Clinic.” The stallion smiles. “The finest medical institution in Equestria.” I blink twice. This is a nice change of pace. “That’s… wonderful. And who…” I take a weary breath. “…are you?” “I am Doctor Maneworthy.” The colt replies. “Princess Celestia’s private physician.” “Prestigious.” I note. “Good to know… that I’m being taken care of.” “Yes.” The doctor spoke simply, glancing at my chart on the end of the bed. “I’m so very sorry about what happened. I was in the audience for your Gala show. We had no idea.” “From what I hear, nopony did.” I mumble. “But it’s over. How long has it been?” “Four days.” Maneworthy takes a few steps closer to me. “Do you feel well?” “I feel… Very weak…” “That’s to be expected. You lost quite a bit of blood, and it took a little while for us to know where to start. We haven’t dealt with human anatomy before.” “I was afraid of that.” “You’re lucky that magic isn’t anatomy selective. It heals what it can.” I look over at my bedside table, already tired of the banter. There’s a book, just sitting there. Its black cover looks slightly battered, and there’s a card attached. “What’s that?” “Miss Sparkle delivered it yesterday. She’s down the hall if you want to talk to her.” “She’s still in the hospital?” I rub my eyes, reaching out and picking up the book. “What happened?” “Not much, really. She doesn’t exactly need to be here, but she insisted on being close at hand for when you woke up.” “How nice. Most considerate thing anyone’s done for me all month.” I deadpan, placing the book beside me on the bed and picking up the card. “Quite a sense of humour for someone who just woke up.” Maneworthy’s smile hasn’t faltered. “I wasn’t joking.” I reply, feeling slightly satisfied that I’ve finally managed to make him falter in his professional smile. “Can you wait a little while before telling anyone? I could do with... with a moment. Gather my thoughts...” “Of course.” Maneworthy nods, and turns away. “Everything seems fine for now. I’ll come back in ten minutes. That okay?” “Yeah.” I mumble half heartedly, closing my eyes briefly while I wait for the doctor to leave. Once he has, I slowly open the card. I feel so frail, and my trembling hands aren’t helping. The cover of the card has a few wonderfully drawn landscape on it, showing the view of Ponyville from Canterlot. How wonderfully scenic. The inside of the card has a few images of little flower bushes, all of it very nice, while the empty space is filled with a message. I take a quick note of the fact that Twilight was sensitive enough not to add a ‘Dear Piano Man’ to the top. Despite that, the entire message seems rather awkward. ‘Celestia would like me to convey her utmost sympathy for what Trixie has done. If you are reading this, then you have most likely met Doctor Maneworthy – Princess Celestia’s personal physician. The book that this card is attached to is Trixie’s personal journal from the last month. I don’t know if you wish to read it, but I hope you’ll appreciate the option. Please rest up. A room in the Royal Palace is prepared for when you are able to be discharged.’ I give a little sigh as I return the card to the bedside table. Trust Twilight to write a letter that doesn’t convey her personality at all. I look down at the book. Trixie’s journal. A glimpse into her demented mind. An account of all of the horrors she subjected me to. Of course I’m going to read it. The book is ‘cleverly’ disguised, which is to say: It’s some very important journal entries detailing Trixie’s life over the previous month, simply titled as surplus notes. The only reason such a simple trick is clever, is because one would never expect it to be done. It shows an odd level of paranoia by Trixie, apparently concerning the fear that somepony would read her notes and discover the truth about her show. The gesture seems pointless. If one were in the position to read any of her journals, they may very well be in the position to read all of them, which means that they would eventually turn their attention to the one that was marked as surplus. And the writings they would find, would shock and horrify them. With yet another little sigh, I open the book, and begin reading. *** The Journal of the Great and Powerful Trixie - Surplus Notes. DAY ONE: I have completed my preparations. The spell is ready, and I have the cage set up. This can turn out in any number of ways. Humans are such an enigma, and this could go so wrong so easily. Any one of these ancient facts could be wrong. Humans could have their own magical spark. They could be brutal and imbued with super-strength. Of course, I must persevere. I refuse to scrounge in the garbage a single time more. Such an activity is beneath the master race – let alone one with a family like mine. I’m sure my father would be proud of the feat I am about to accomplish. Humans have not been seen in Equestria in over a millennia. Their return would normally be a time of celebration – two races, separated so long ago, rejoined like a pair of lost twins. It’s poetic in it’s beauty. Of course, such an event will not be happening. It is time for the summoning. I will record the events of the day soon. - - - DAY ONE - ENTRY TWO: Dear Celestia! The summoning was a success. Equestria has seen its first human in aeons, and I am the only pony who knows it. The human is everything I hoped for. It seems to fit the facts I based the summoning off almost perfectly. My initial opinion is one of disdain. With no magical spark, Humans are essentially pawns - and with those hands of theirs they would make perfect slaves for us ponies. Unfortunately, doing that would be the end of me. Nopony would ever accept an intelligent being as a slave. Oh yes. The human is completely lucid. He even seems to know a little information about Equestria. That scared me immensely, so I took immediate action and ‘sedated’ the human. Of course, I am unable to afford an actual sedative, so I made do with blunt trauma. I should add that humans are very offensive creatures. I’ve only spoken with this one for a few minutes, and it has already accused me of being a fraud. No fraud could have created the hole between universes that I did, or bodily ripped a life-form from one reality to another. Once this is all over… when I’m rich and I’ve covered my tracks for this deed, I think I will write a paper on the spell I used. I’ve certainly never heard of it being used before. I cannot write more at the moment. The human’s slander has me so angry. Such heinous words from a creature so far beneath me… I can already tell that I will hate this thing. It has no magical spark, still thinks itself on the grounds to address a pony in such offensive ways... it's almost nauseating. But dear sweet Celestia, it will make me rich. - - - DAY ONE – ENTRY THREE: After I managed to calm myself sufficiently, I revived the human, and attempted to explain the situation to him. The fool seemed to have a tough time grasping exactly why he can’t reach out and throttle me, but that needs to be credited to a possible concussion. Once the human was sufficiently lucid, I had it demonstrate the ability I brought it here for. Needless to say, I am impressed. His skill is something the likes of which I have never seen. ~ I have just returned from my wagon. I’m so furious. I cannot find a way to eloquently put my thoughts down now. The human tried to escape – and he nearly succeeded. I managed to catch him, and… I did something regrettable as punishment. There is no way I can properly write this down – and I probably never will. For now, I will suffice with the statement that the human must never escape. If anypony ever learns about this entire thing, or the way I have treated it… I shudder to think of the consequences. I don't understand why being around the human fills me with so much anger. The manner in which it tries to talk to me is indeed unacceptable for one of its stature, but there's something else about it that just seems to instantly anger me. I must find a way to control myself, before I do something that can't be undone. - - - DAY THREE: I need to control my rage around the human. As much as I would love to gore it on the end of my horn, that would be an incredible waste of time in all this preparation, and I refuse to go back to living on the streets. This is my last chance. And as much as I hate to admit it, I don’t think I could bring myself to kill something sentient. As lowly as this human is, it is still ‘intelligent’. Moral reasons aside, I’m sure such an act is also considered murder – pony or not. So in order to make sure I do not do something regrettable, I decided to use a few of my last bits to purchase a herb that I was assured would 'moderate' my mood. It worked well for the first performance – which I must add went perfectly, and earned quite a few bits. I believe that my newfound amiability was extremely confusing for the human. Nevertheless, I am very pleased with the way things are proceeding. The first show was extremely popular. It bodes well for the future. I'm not sure why I'm writing this journal. It's more evidence against me. I will have to burn it in the future... after I've looked back through it when this is over. - - - DAY NINE: The human once again tried to escape today. It used brute force to overpower me before I could use my magic, and then escaped into the city. A foolish ploy. It seemed to forget that I can move at twice the speed it can. I chased the human down before it could find another pony and reveal anything, and knocked it unconscious. I have to say, this herb is working wonderfully. It doesn’t work all the time, but I haven’t beaten the human since its first escape attempt – and I didn’t today, either. Although some of the thoughts I've been having are... concerning. That's something I'll need to watch for. I believe that today has been a good signal that it is time to move on. The wagon is ready, and I was planning to go mobile by the end of next week. I see no repercussions in doing so sooner rather than later. The human still disgusts me, but at least I don’t constantly feel an urge to kill it. - - - DAY NINETEEN: I haven’t written anything in ten days. Things were going so perfectly. I’m rolling in the bits, and the human has been most amiable. I had thought he had given up. What I didn’t know was that it had actually given up. The human tried to hang itself. It nearly succeeded too. If that earth pony hadn’t noticed the sounds coming from my wagon, it would be dead. I don’t know if this is the herb mellowing me, but I have to say that this day hasn’t been all bad. The human tried to hang itself, and yet the day still has an upside. It has to be the herb. Anyway: The purple unicorn that showed me up the last time I was in Ponyville (Identified by the Human as ‘Twilight’) delivered a message from Canterlot. The princesses have heard of our show, and have decided to contract for an actual concert at the Grand Galloping Gala. Said contract is also extremely lucrative. it’s something I've dreamed of since I was a filly – except that I had always hoped it would be me performing. I’m conflicted. The human is clearly… disturbed. As much as I hate the creature, I’m not sure it’s a good idea. What if it has a breakdown on stage? Everypony will find out what I've been doing. If I decide to go ahead, I’ll write another entry after the Gala. No matter what, I think that the "Piano Man" has reached the end of its usability. It seems so ironic that I would save the creature from suicide, and then kill it myself a few days later.’ *** The rest of the pages are blank. I set the book down, and close my eyes, shuddering violently. Trixie was only a few days from killing me. I managed to escape in the small gap between almost succeeding at suicide, and Trixie putting me down. “Fuck.” I pick up the book and toss it onto the bedside table. “Just… Fuck.” There’s no words to describe the plethora of emotions coursing through me. Relief, anger, happiness… There’s so many. I can’t even name them all at the moment. I need to find out if Trixie is alive or dead. *** A knock at the door rouses me from my depressed reverie, and I turn my attention to the source. “Yeah?” My voice comes out pathetically weak, reminding me that I have not come out of my ordeal without some rather heavy physical issues – and I’m sure that I’ll need a lot of therapy. The door opens, revealing Doctor Maneworthy. “Are you feeling up for visitors?” “I wouldn’t say that.” I lift one arm, staring at the tubes leading into it. “But I’ll take some anyway.” The doctor nods, and steps forward, clearing up the doorway. Twilight enters first. There’s a cast on one of her hind legs, and she certainly looks worse for wear, but aside from that, she seems to have come out of the ordeal much better-off than me – then again, she didn’t get stabbed. It’s Applejack next, looking a little sheepish – why, I can’t tell. Then it’s Pinkie. She looks as energetic as ever, but she’s managing to simply jump a little on each step instead of just plain bouncing. Hell, this is a serious meeting. Rarity looks like she was hurt worse than Twilight, with a bandage on her head and a limp to her walk. Unlike Twilight, the rest of her still looks immaculate, of course. Rarity would never let a little thing like being beaten up get in the way of fabulousness. Finally, it’s Fluttershy, who’s so hunched over that I can’t even see her face. I don’t see Rainbow or Cadance. Odd. The five mares fall into a ragged line at the foot of my bed, each one displaying a differing level of unease. I’m not surprised that it’s Twilight who speaks first. “So… how are you feeling?” I give her a pleading look, before speaking in my weak little voice. “Miss Sparkle, please. How do you think I feel?” “I… I don’t know.” Her eyes flop down, obviously confused by my forwardness. “Happy? Sad?” “Exactly.” I gently massage my left temple. “I’m feeling pretty conflicted.” “Oh. Of course.” Twilight’s look of confusion morphs into one of sympathetic understanding. “I’m sorry. I can’t imagine what you’ve gone through.” I look away. “The book paints a vivid enough picture.” Twilight is quiet for a moment, before speaking softly. “It doesn’t say what the regrettable punishment was.” “You’re right. It doesn’t.” My voice comes out strained, and my throat tightens. I almost grasp my scalp again, but manage to stop myself and lower my hand back to the bed. The other mares are still standing there awkwardly. I wonder if they’ll actually say anything. Twilight wisely leaves the subject, instead moving on to talking about the future. “Umm… The princesses are planning to visit, if you’re up for it.” I nod. “And… well, like my card says… There’s a room set up for you in the palace for when you’re released.” “Thanks.” I speak slowly, before looking down. This isn’t how I envisaged meeting the Mane Six. “And… Sorry. I know I’m being difficult.” “Oh it’s fine, dear.” Rarity finally speaks. “After suffering under that monstrous mare, you’ve earned the right to vent some steam.” “There’s a lot to vent.” I sigh. I look at each of the mares in turn. Each one looks extremely concerned – I think. Fluttershy still hasn’t looked at me. God. I’m experiencing the dream of every Brony on earth, and all I can do is wallow in my misery. I suppose now it’s time for the hard question. “What about Trixie? Is she dead?” The lavender unicorn glances at Applejack who pauses, and then nods. Here it comes. I already know what they’re going to say. “Trixie is…” Twilight starts, before faltering. I let out a little groan, before looking the Mare in the eye. “Just say it.” “Trixie’s… being held in custody.” I open my mouth and let out a long, drawn out curse. Fluttershy takes a step back at the sudden expletive, while the other ponies still look sympathetic – except for Pinkie. She’s disappeared. Twilight approaches and puts a hoof on my shoulder. “It’s okay.” I look at her, and then at the other Mares. "God, I wish it was." So I suppose I’m in Equestria now. What does that mean, exactly? Am I stuck here? Can I go home? Most importantly; What happens now? I sigh yet again. I have no idea how many times I’ve done that in the last fifteen minutes. “Well, we have lot to talk about.” I say to Twilight. “A hell of a lot.”