The Centurion Project

by TheEighthDayofNight


Chapter 5: Introductions

Journal Entry: Day 1345

There is nothing quite like clean clothes. Especially when they don’t have any holes in them (which nowadays, big surprise, everything has holes). Found an abandoned mall the other day, largely picked clean, except there was this closet in the back of the shoes store. Cracked that fucker open and there it was, an apocalypse treasure. Not only was it all in good shape, it was all men’s clothes. No more tearing dresses apart to make patchwork t-shirts for this guy. Set myself up with about a dozen new shirts, some new shoes, pants, the works. Even got this really nice trench coat, it’s gonna be fucking excellent come winter. Torched the rest though. Anyone still out there can eat shit. Hope they freeze.

Elias scanned every inch of the hallway as he walked along, making mental notes of distinguishing markers, trying to find a path that would lead to an exit. After spending several long, painful hours with Doctor Scalpel healing his wounds, Elias was able to walk unaided, though his arm was still in a cast. Because of his incident with the razor, Scalpel told him that he had to pick what was going to take priority for healing. The gaping, painful cut on his hand was chosen, so Elias would have to wait until the following day to be healed fully. Still, he felt physically better than he had in weeks.

Elias flexed his hand, looking briefly at the scars that now marred the lines that crisscrossed it. The wounds looked years old, and they were as rough and calloused as the rest of his hand. It was a miracle, but for the horses, it was nothing special, with Scalpel saying as much. "Elementary level magic," he had called it. Elias clenched his hand and looked up from his new scars. He stared at the back of the pterippus guard he was following, investigating his appearance. He was dressed in gold armor, and wore a short sword on his hip, while a blue-plumed helmet sat atop his head. What surprised Elias, however, was how little the armor actually covered its user. While he could imagine that the ponies would value speed over armor integrity, it didn't explain why they didn’t fashion a mail-based armor that would allow them maneuverability with mild protection for the entire body, rather than heavy plate on just some areas. From what he could see, the shoes the pony wore did nothing to protect its legs, while its underside was completely exposed. Coupled with how open the helm was around the throat, the armor seemed almost ornamental.

Elias was brought out of his inspection by the pterippus stopping in front of a simple wooden door. The pony pulled a set of keys from beneath his armor and unlocked the door.

“Here are your quarters. The bathroom is through that door there,” he said gesturing at the far wall. “Dinner isn’t for a few hours, so you’ll have plenty of time to get comfortable. I’ll be out here if you need anything.”

Elias slowly walked into the room, his eyes searching every inch of it. At the center was a large bed with pristine crimson sheets. Above that, a simple chandelier gave light to the room. The walls were lined with an assortment of dressers and empty bookcases. Elias looked at his feet, only beginning to notice the plush carpet beneath his grimy toes. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been on clean carpet.

“Sir!”

Elias flinched and turned around. The pterippus was standing behind him, a concerned look on his face.

“Are you alright? If the room isn’t to your liking, I’m sure Princess Celestia wouldn’t mind if you wanted a different one.”

Elias blinked, then shook his head, trying to fight away the daze he found himself in.

“It’s fine. It’s just… different.”

The pterippus looked doubtful, but didn’t press the issue.

“If you need anything at all, I will be right outside,” the horse said before slowly closing the door behind him.

Elias stared at the closed door for a moment, then shifted his gaze to the open doorway that the pterippus had gestured to. It had been years since he had used anything with real plumbing. If these ponies were intelligent enough to develop IV’s, they had to have running water.

His desire to shower briefly overwhelmed his natural paranoia, and Elias quickly found himself standing in the white tiled bathroom. Elias stood slack jawed for a moment. It was so clean. The walls shined with artificial whiteness, and Elias could see exactly where he had walked, the black dirt from his feet standing out vibrantly against the tiles. To his left sat a deep tub, the water steaming and decorated with crimson flower petals floating lazily atop the water. He ignored the fragrant tub in favor of the shower to his right. The pair of shining silver shower handles drew him like a siren song.

Elias began to strip off his underwear, only to realize that he was still wearing a cast. While his mind damned the thing from preventing him from tasting heaven, his eyes searched the bathroom for something to cover it with. It took him seconds to find a bag sitting on one of the counters with a small note sitting atop it.

For covering your cast. Simply place your arm inside, then tighten the strings. When you are finished bathing, pull on the strings and it will slide off.

Dr. Scalpel

Elias picked up the bag and inspected it. It was made of simple black cloth, with gold colored string rimming the opening. Elias re-read the note, then gingerly put his arm in the bag. He waited for a moment for some kind of magically induced pain, but the bag remained nothing more than simple cloth, sitting limply on his arm. Elias gave it another once over, then pulled on the strings. Before he could tie them together, the whole bag tightened, wrapping tight around the cast. The strings pulled away from his fingers and formed a small knot as he watched the bag work. It formed an almost perfect outline of his arm, and while it didn't let him have access to his fingers, he had few doubts that it would come off. Elias gave his arm an experimental shake, and when the bag didn’t move, he felt a faint grin spread across his face. He didn't understand it at all, but it was interesting, and incredibly useful, and more importantly, it meant he could bathe.

Elias quickly lost his underwear, walked into the shower, and following the symbols on the handles, he fell into bliss. Scalding hot water fell onto his face, burning away weeks of built up grime. Sweat, dirt, blood; all of it bled away and down the drain. Elias simply stood under the water, letting it blast across his body. The heat relieved months of stress from his battered muscles. It was bliss. After several minutes of pure relaxation, Elias let out a long sigh and got to work.

Taking the bar of soap from its dish, he scrubbed down his body, taking extra time to clean out his arm pits, and under his nails. He ignored the flashes of pain when some of the dirt took hair and dead flesh with it. Elias took his time, he hadn’t bathed properly in at least two months, and the buildup was severe. Places he didn’t think dirt could reach were caked in it, and before long the soap bar was whittled down to nothing. Once he thought himself clean enough, he rinsed off, then turned off the blessed water and stepped out of the shower, taking a towel from a hook on the wall.

After drying himself off thoroughly, Elias pulled the string and the bag slid smoothly off his arm. To his surprise, the cast looked cleaner, and the dirt was gone from beneath his fingernails. He looked inside the bag, but saw nothing out the ordinary, no signs of any of the dirt that should have been on his filthy hand. Shaking his head in mild amazement, Elias set the bag back on the counter and wrapped the towel around his waist. Before he could move toward the doorway, he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror above the sink.

Elias winced as he inspected himself. He was already a skinny guy on a good day, but now he could see each of his ribs distinctly. His dark auburn hair hung almost to his shoulders, with several strands attempting to cover his sunken, bloodshot eyes. Elias briefly stroked the thick stubble on his face. While it wasn’t enough to be considered a beard by any standard, it was still thicker than he had ever had before. He briefly considered looking around for a razor, then shrugged, deciding to let it be. The hair served to fill out his cheeks a bit and make him less emaciated than he was. Besides, it wasn't like the horses would trust him with another razor blade after his incident in the infirmary.

Moving lower, Elias gently touched his newest scar. It was a small scar, only about the size of his pinkie finger, but a deep one, and despite the magic Scalpel had performed, it was still tender. He prodded at the mark with a wince, taking great care not to agitate it, while also checking just how deep the brilliant red scar ran. He mentally prodded himself to stop after a few moments, and he forced his hand to drop to his side. Elias looked back up into his eyes, quickly seeing the same usual simmering anger hiding just below the surface of his blue eyes.

Elias sighed and moved away from the mirror. He didn’t want to go down the path his mind usually followed when he saw his reflection. It would simply destroy the wonderful mood that feeling clean had given him. Instead, he left the bathroom, relishing how much lighter he felt. Everything felt sharper, and even his breathing seemed easier. Instead of a black layer of dirty, his pale skin had made a new appearance, looking almost soft at first glance. Elias imagined that he positively glowed with cleanliness as compared to his un-bathed self, and damn did he feel it. The wonders of a proper shower.

Basking in the sensation, Elias calmly re-examined his surroundings. He blinked in surprise when he noticed his armor sitting on a stand in the corner next to the bed. How had he missed it the first time?

Elias quickly made his way to the armor stand, and found all of his equipment there, including his gladius. He withdrew it from its sheathe and inspected the blade. Someone had tried to clean it, but there were still flecks of blood up and down the blade. The edge was slightly dulled as well, and the blade lacked its normal sheen. Elias slowly re-sheathed the sword and inspected his armor. It too had been cleaned, but the armor needed drastic repairs if he intended to use it again. The plate had several deep holes, while bits of chain mail hang on by single links in some places. Elias lightly touched one such place, wincing as his action caused a small patch of chain mail to finally give up its fight to stay attached. The chain holding it on snapped, and the chain fell to rest at the base of the stand. Elias mentally made a note to locate new tools for armor repair before kicking the patch of chain mail away.

Below the stand sat his ruck, with a clean, mended tunic laying atop it. Elias moved it to the bed before searching through his ruck for a clean pair of underwear. After he found them, he pulled out his spare sandals as well. His original pair was nowhere to be found, and in all likelihood were beyond repair anyway. He had been using them for months, and bleeding all over them did nothing to help their quality.

After dressing, Elias set to work. Using a hand towel and a basin from the bathroom, he scrubbed at his gear, eradicating the dirt and blood that clung to it like glue. He started with his ruck, which was the easiest to clean, then went through each individual piece of armor, some dirtier than others. He made sure to be careful around the damaged portions of his cuirass, but more than a few pieces of chain mail fell free at his soft touch. His gladius he saved for last. The sheathe was never easy to clean, and the blade needed special attention if he wanted to sharpen it properly.

As Elias scrubbed away a particularly stubborn bit of dirt, he paused and stared at the blade in his hands. What was he doing? He had all the tools necessary to escape, to disappear into a forest and never be found, yet here he was worrying about cleanliness. His eyes darted up and around the room, looking for anything that might be affecting his mental state. It was clear that the magic of the ponies had some measure of reality involved, as was evidenced by his freshly healed wounds. It wasn’t a stretch to imagine that magic could be used to make him docile and weak. But then again, why would they do that? From what he had seen, the pony creatures held no true malicious intent. Even though they had pursued him, almost to death, they had still mended his wounds, and then had given him all of his belongings back, including a weapon. It was a level of trust that made Elias both uncomfortable and curious at the same time. That curiosity gnawed at the back of his head, whittling away at his ingrained suspicion.

Elias drew the whetstone from his ruck and began sharpening the blade. He had to find out more. It was all too strange; it flew in the face of the paranoia that had kept him alive for so long. He needed more information before he made any decisions. Being rash would do nothing to help him in the long run. With a mental confirmation on his plan, Elias focused on the maintenance of his gear. A clean knife is a longer life.

Elias ran his rag up and down his gladius, and then gave the blade a few experimental swings. Satisfied, Elias set the blade in its sheathe on the bed and stood up. A knock sounded off from the door just as Elias finished strapping on his sword belt. He sheathed his pristine, sharp blade as it opened, revealing the same pterippus guard from before. The pony smiled.

“You’re certainly looking better. A good bath can fix any issue, am I right?”

The pterippus chuckled for a moment, which then trailed off into nothing when Elias continued to stare at him in silence, his frown prominent on his face. The guard cleared his throat nervously.

“I-if you are ready, the princesses are waiting.”

Elias nodded and began to move toward the door, then paused as his hair fell into his face. That wouldn’t do. Elias turned back to his ruck, digging through it. He had to have spare rope somewhere.

The remainder of the coil sat at the bottom of the ruck, and Elias had to tug to pull it out. He briefly measured out an appropriate length, then with a smooth motion, he drew his dagger and cut the rope in two. Elias pulled back his hair as best as he could with the cast, then tied it into a loose ponytail. A single strand fell into his face, but Elias ignored it, satisfied that he looked presentable enough. If anything, he was just grateful that he was clean for once.

He faced the guard once more, sheathing his dagger behind his back as he did so. The pterippus seemed much more tense now, likely made very aware by his little display that Elias was armed. Elias smiled internally.

'Good,' he thought, 'let them fear. It simply provides me with another tool should I need it.'

Since his tunics lacked pockets, Elias clasped his hands behind his back. The motion felt a bit odd with the cast around his arm, but he made it work, doing his best to ignore the twinges of pain he felt in the limb.

“Ready?” the guard asked.

Elias nodded silently, and the pterippus left the room, with Elias close behind. As they walked, Elias again made mental notes of the layout of the hallways, noting which ones seemed familiar and which ones were foreign. Within thirty steps Elias was out of familiar ground and in uncharted territory, so he began memorizing the way back to his room, from there he was confident he could plot out an escape route.

While doing this, Elias also occasionally watched the pony leading him. Every couple of steps, the pterippus would throw a glance over his shoulder at Elias, and as soon as he noticed that Elias was watching him, his head would snap forward, almost as if he was ashamed of getting caught. Elias thought it odd, but ultimately disregarded the action. If it didn’t factor into his escape plan or into his diplomatic measures, then it didn’t matter.

It didn’t take long for the pair to come upon a tall door, which Elias assumed led to some sort of formal dining area. The pterippus said a few words to the guards, then quickly slipped through the doors, indicating that Elias should wait outside for the moment.

The pair of guards by the door remained silent, their eyes boring into Elias as he leaned against the wall, his thumbs tucked into his sword belt. He was glad for the weight of his weapons. They were a comfort in an increasingly unfamiliar situation. Elias kept his mind off all of the oddities however; panic at the irrational would help no one.

Elias sniffed, and scratched his nose, using the motion to disguise his eyes as he looked at the pair of guards.

One was a pterippus, though the wings seemed different. While Elias couldn’t tell precisely from a distance, they looked almost like the wings of a bat. The other had neither wings, nor a horn. Both were grey in color, and wore blue armor that looked vaguely familiar.

Elias bristled when it clicked. The armor was nearly identical to the armor of the ponies that had ambushed him, and in the end, had also captured him. A thousand thoughts flashed through Elias’ mind, all of them violent. He sighed and rubbed at his eyes, dismissing the thoughts immediately. He needed to suppress that part of himself for now, put all of it as far from his mind as possible. The ponies seemed to forgive and forget quickly, he would have to at least pretend to do the same if he wanted to establish any positive relationships with them.

The guards exchanged a glance as they watched Elias, but they said nothing. Elias took a deep breath and stared at the wall, letting all of his thoughts fade into oblivion as he zoned out, letting his mind grow calm.

Before he could fully relax, the doors opened. The sudden burst of noise caused Elias to flinch, but he was able to keep his hand from grabbing his sword handle. Another pony dressed in blue armor, minus the helmet, stepped out, whispering to the pterippus guard. Then she turned to Elias with a grin.

“If you’re ready, the Princesses are waiting.”

Elias nodded silently and pushed off the wall, following the pony through the doors. On the other side was a small, brightly lit dining hall. A simple round table sat at its center, with a large set of glass doors leading into darkness at the far end. Elias had no doubt that the doors led outside, making them an easy exit. Perfect. At the table sat three familiar ponies, along with one he did not recognize. The foreign purple unicorn watched him intently, a scroll and quill floating next to her head. Elias already didn’t like the pony.

He took the empty seat next to Steel Scalpel, who looked up and smiled as Elias sat down. No doubt the unicorn was there for Elias’ “comfort” since he had been the one to drag him from his night terror. Unfortunately, Elias did note that he felt slightly more relaxed in the presence of the pony. His mind subconsciously identified him as a potential ally. His frown deepened as he tried to raise emotional walls to keep everyone at a distance. It would not help to get attached now.

The guard took the seat to Elias’ immediate left, her eyes glancing to the princesses before settling on Elias. Elias pretended not to notice. He kept his right hand in his lap, leaving his casted hand on the table. Celestia smiled brightly, and Elias couldn’t tell if the expression was genuine or not. Either way, he needed to act appropriately if he wanted this to go well. Nothing was free, especially not medical care. He had no doubt the ponies would have some sort of price for what they had “given” him, and he needed to be careful if he wanted to limit his debt as much as possible.

“You are certainly looking refreshed Elias,” Celestia said. “I take it your room is to your liking?”

Elias nodded slowly.

“It’s certainly… nicer than what I’m used to.”

The act of speaking seemed to drive the purple unicorn wild. Her quill and scroll began moving furiously, writing at breakneck speed as the unicorn spoke, practically shouting at Elias as words poured from her mouth like a flood.

“You said it was nicer than you were used to, meaning you aren’t used to the royal treatment, so you must live somewhere that’s simpler than Canterlot. But you were in the Everfree forest, so maybe you lived in the forest wherever you came from. Where was that by the way? Ooh, and how did you manage dimensional travel? What’s magic like where you’re from? I bet it is a simply fascinating place, do you have family? Friends? What’s the culture like? I bet its-…”

The unicorn silenced immediately when Celestia placed a wing on her back. Elias let out a long breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. A quick glance down saw that his entire body was tensed up, ready to spring into action. His casted arm was braced against the table, ready to flip it as a distraction. His right hand was firmly gripped around the hilt of his gladius, a sliver of steel already out of the sheathe. Elias looked up, quickly noticing that the rest of the table was also tense, ready to answer any moves he made.

Elias took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He let his gladius slip fully back into its sheathe, then relaxed in his seat, placing both of his arms on the table, with his casted arm over his right one. Once he had mentally calmed himself, Elias opened his eyes again and looked up, remaining silent. Celestia nudged the purple unicorn, who smiled sheepishly at him.

“Sorry, I guess I got a bit excited. It’s not every day that you get to meet a new species after all. I’m Twilight,” she said, extending a hoof over the table.

Elias stared at the appendage in hesitation for a second, then reached out with his right hand and shook it firmly.

“Elias,” he replied simply.

After he let go, Twilight seemed to stare at her hoof for a moment. Her nose then quickly became buried in the roll of paper, the feather working furiously. Celestia sighed, but smiled.

“I must apologize for my protégé, she tends to be overenthusiastic in her academic studies.”

Her eyes settled on the muttering purple unicorn.

“Despite her progress in making friends, she can relapse into her old ways of study first, and be personable second.”

Elias shrugged, the motion exposing some tension in his shoulders. He rubbed at it with his fingers as he tried to ease the strain.

“It’s fine. I’m not exactly a personable guy myself,” he said as he worked loose the knot of muscle. Scalpel watched him with a look of fascination.

“Is there something the matter Elias?” he asked, curious.

Elias winced as he pressed harder, trying to force the muscle to loosen.

“Not at all. Just an old injury that flares up occasionally,” he replied.

“How old?” the unicorn asked. He looked like he wanted to rise from his seat, but Elias shot him a look to make him stay in it. That seemed to make Scalpel even more concerned. “Have you had somepony properly look at it? A physical therapist perhaps?”

Elias chuckled and let his hand drop. The tension was still there, and likely would be for some time.

“There aren’t a lot of therapists where I’m from,” he said. “And the injury is maybe four years old. Dislocated my shoulder and had to put it back in myself.”

Elias felt a twinge of pain from the memory.

“It didn’t go well,” he said finally, cutting off any further conversation about it.

Celestia seemed to notice the dramatic shift in tone, so she cleared her throat and smiled as she drew everybody’s eyes to her. Elias rolled his left shoulder one more time, wishing he could clench his casted arm. He would just have to suffer through the pain.

“Let’s put off formal introductions until after we have eaten, shall we?” Celestia said.

Once she received nods in agreement, her horn lit up and the far door opened swiftly, but silently. Elias was glad it was quiet, the sudden motion was more than enough to put him on edge, but if it had slammed open, he might have reacted poorly. Elias chastised himself mentally. He was being far too jumpy.

All thoughts were washed away when the smells hit him. He swallowed roughly as his worn, abused nose took in scents that weren’t horrifying for once. An abundant mixture of different smells seemed to reach out. Some were sweet, similar to the pre-packaged candies he had spent many a day eating as his only meals. Others were more natural, and as the team of service ponies began setting and uncovering dishes, Elias spotted one large pot that looked like it was filled with tomato soup, a childhood favorite of his. Several large baskets of freshly baked bread were set upon the table, as were two large bowls full of greens. Elias eyed these bowls carefully, spotting what he thought was grass amongst the leaves of lettuce. Something to be avoided.

The coup de grâce was when one of the severs gently set a silver covered platter directly in front of Elias, swiftly unveiling a steaming piece of well-done steak. Elias’ eyes widened as he studied it, comparing it to the pictures he had seen on menu’s and in cook books. He had been far too young to have steak when the world ended, so he had never actually eaten any before the cow herds died out. The closest substitute he had ever was the flank of a scrawny deer that had already been half gnawed on. The steak was nearly triple the size of that, and smelled wonderful, the meaty scent completely overwhelming his senses, including his sense of caution and paranoia.

Elias swallowed roughly and looked up, finding everyone looking at him with expectation.

“Is something the matter Elias? Steel Scalpel and I assumed you were a carnivore based on your physical features.”

Elias nodded slowly as his eyes drifted back to the tantalizing piece of meat before him.

“Omnivore actually,” he said absently.

He felt his hand twitch. He could almost imagine how it tasted; how tender it would be. Elias warred with himself for control. One half wanted to take it apart bite by bite, savoring it, learning everything he could about how meat should truly be prepared. The other wanted it eaten, and wanted it eaten two minutes ago.

Elias cleared his throat, and pointed at the steak.

“That’s real?” he asked, well aware of the dangers of fake meats.

Celestia nodded, her face a mix of a cautious happiness. Elias wondered briefly if he should be paying more attention to the white pony, but he couldn't focus. Not with the steak in front of him.

“That it is Elias. We host many foreign dignitaries here that are carnivores. If you would like something else…”

Elias shook his head and reached for the silverware to his right. It was a bit mis-sized, but it would more than suffice for his intentions. He put the fork in his left hand, since he couldn’t well make cutting motions with a casted arm. The knife slid through the steak like it was passing through water, and Elias quickly found a bite sized piece waiting in front of his eyes.

When he bit down, a shudder passed through his body. Had he any less control, Elias was sure that he would have cried. It was the single best thing he had eaten. Not just since the end, but ever. The tenderness, the flavor, the perfection of the temperature, warm enough to be noticeable, but not burning hot, coupled with the perfection of the juice that poured out as he chewed. It wasn’t enough to be overwhelming, but it was in no way dry or tough.

The first genuine smile he had in months touched his face as he sat back in momentary bliss. For a moment he even forgot where he was, then his mind clicked back as he realized that he was being stared at. All of the ponies had a range of amused expressions, with the most severe being from the guard to his left, who was trying to hide a snicker behind a hoof. Elias cleared his throat and sat up.

“T-thank you. It’s very good. Best I’ve had in… awhile.” he said, not willing to meet their eyes as he tried to hide his embarrassment.

“I’m glad,” Celestia said, her tone warm. “I shall make sure to give your compliments to the chef.”

It seemed to be a que, because the ponies all began taking food, stacking it on their plates. As they began to eat, they also began to chat with each other, talking about day to day events that Elias had no interest or context for, so he simply listened, remaining silent as he did his best to eat slowly. The steak was incredibly rich, and if he scarfed it down too quickly, his stomach would rebel. He had no wish to be stuck up all night with meat sweats and stomach pains.

It didn’t take Elias particularly long to become full. While he had managed to polish off the steak, he didn’t even bother trying to take from any of the other dishes. This inaction seemed to draw attention.

“Are you feeling alright Elias?” Celestia asked, cutting through the mild conversations. “I hope that we have not made you ill.

He nodded, content to leave his cast on the table, while his right hand rested on his stomach.

“I’m fine. Just have to be smart. Limit myself.”

Celestia looked to Scalpel, who shrugged while giving a nod of agreement.

“If he’s anything like a pony, he needs to introduce himself to real food slowly.” Scalpel side-eyed Elias. “I got a look at what he had been eating, and it only barely qualifies as edible. Most of it was beginning to rot.”

Elias shrugged.

“I made do,” he replied.

Scalpel scoffed.

“If you hadn’t already begun limiting your intake, I would think you delirious. Describing your condition as starving would be an understatement. With your permission;” he turned to Celestia, “as well as yours Princess, I’d like to run some tests for vitamin deficiencies, as well as run through some questionnaires to determine an appropriate diet." He turned back to Elias. "I am genuinely surprised that you have as much energy as you do, because all physical indicators should put you in a bed with an IV for the next month.”

“I’m fine. If I can walk, I can run. If I can run, I can fight. I don’t need to be any healthier than that,” Elias grunted in response. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw both the guard and Luna nod in agreement.

Scalpel opened his mouth to protest, his irritation visible, but Celestia cut him off with a small shake of her head. She quickly steered the conversation away again.

“So, Elias, I know this all must seem like a substantial change, but I am curious, you have not asked much of us. Do you know anything about Equestria?”

Elias shook his head.

“Nothing besides the name now. As for your… peoples, I only have my knowledge of old Greco-Roman myth, and I am going on the assumption that that information is… inaccurate at best.”

Twilight poked her head out from behind the scroll, and Elias realized she hadn’t stopped writing since they had spoken last. Including while eating.

“Your species has myths about ponies?” she asked through a mouthful of lettuce. “I was under the impression that you came from a different dimension, or at least a different world.”

“As far as I know I am,” Elias replied. “And the myths are just that, myth. They were made by people trying to explain strange events around them, to give meaning to otherwise uninteresting lives. There was no evidence of anything other than standard breeds of horse and pony on earth. Certainly, no unicorns or pterippus’.”

The ponies seemed confused by the Greek word. Twilight began furiously scribbling again, while the guard asked;

“What is a petrippa… pertipp…" She frowned as her tongue tried to figure out the Greek word. Her muzzle curled in disgust when she couldn't figure it out. "The second one that isn’t unicorn.” she spat out finally.

“It’s Greek for winged horse,” Elias recited off, his mind thinking back to the book he had read it in.

He didn’t remember the name, just the cover, which had a hoplite looking out over the sea on it. He had kept that book for three years, had memorized it twice. He lamented he didn’t still have it; having dropped it in one of his “homes” due to its weight. It was a very easy, comforting read, something that had been very stable during some very turbulent days.

“Pegasus was the famous pterippus," he continued, "and there was some contention over which name is correct.”

“Greek?” Twilight asked, not looking up from her notes. “Are you a Greek?”

Elias shook his head.

“No, I just studied the Greeks intimately. They were a mighty society while they lasted. Some credit them with the formation of western civilization, though I am more of the mind that the Romans hold that title.”

Elias wasn't sure if he could believe his eyes fully, but he was fairly sure that Twilight’s hair began popping out at all angles as the intensity of her writing increased.

“Gah! So many cultures, so much information, and we haven’t even started!” she cried out. “Slow down! I can’t keep up!”

Celestia laid a wing over the unicorn.

“Twilight, there will be ample time for cultural study later. I promise that you won’t miss a thing.”

Elias felt his paranoia rush back in, and his body tensed slightly. The way she said it indicated she intended to keep Elias around, maybe against his will. A small part of his mind whispered that he was being insane to shove away creatures that were truly looking after him, but he crushed it. The meal had made him weak; it had gotten him talking. He hadn’t tasted anything amiss with it, but then again, he had never eaten a steak, he didn’t know what to look for. He shifted slightly in his chair, making a mental note to keep a bit quieter and more concise with his answers.

Celestia didn’t seem to notice his shift in posture, and she smiled brightly as Twilight calmed down slightly, going so far as to set the scroll down for the moment, though the quill was still suspended in the air.

“If you do not mind Elias," the white pony said, "I think it would be best if we all introduced ourselves and set about business before we begin comparing tales. I shall begin; I am Celestia of the Sun, Princess of Equestria.”

She nudged Twilight lightly, and the pony grinned sheepishly.

“I’m Twilight Sparkle, personal student to Princess Celestia, and the Element of Magic.”

Elias had no idea what the “Element of Magic” was, but the way she said it indicated that it was of some importance. Perhaps a weapon of some sort? He tucked the thought away as Scalpel went next.

“Doctor Steel Scalpel, Canterlot Castle’s lead surgeon.”

The pony to his left went next.

“Captain Nightshade, leader of the lunar guard.”

“Luna of the Moon, Princess of Equestria.”

As Luna spoke, her eyes seemed to bore into Elias, as if presenting a challenge to match the power of their titles. Elias bit his cheek, a bit of long unused pride rising in his chest.

“My name,” he started slowly, “was Elias William James Bright; Commander of Legio I Americana. Now, it is simply Elias.”

Luna’s stare seemed to intensify.

“Why did you not tell us your full name earlier?” she asked accusingly, “did you not agree to be completely honest with us?”

Elias matched the stare evenly.

“I told the truth; you asked for my name, and I gave what it currently is. If you want me to list the names I’ve been given, I’ll be talking until the sun rises,” he shot back. Luna’s stare quickly became a glare, and her jaw clenched. Before she could say anything, Celestia butted in.

“That won’t be necessary Elias,” she said, trying to keep the conversation calm. She shot a quick glare at her sister that Elias almost missed, before turning back to him with what he surmised was supposed to be a calming smile. It was starting to unnerve him how much the ponies smiled, and he actually preferred the angry glares of Luna. That was more of what he was used to.

“So you are, or at least were in a military?” Celestia asked.

Elias exhaled deeply as he stared at the wall in thought.

“Yes and no,” he responded. “If we are going by the standard definition for a military, then no; my legion was recognized by no nation, mostly because there were no nations left to recognize us.”

He drummed his fingers on the table.

“Technically speaking, we were a high functioning militia force, of which, I was both founder and commander.”

That seemed to raise a few eyebrows.

“You founded an army?” Nightshade asked. “All by yourself? That seems… How did you arm them? How large was it?”

Elias shrugged.

“In desperation, people will follow those who are confident. Most of the time, it leads them to the scum of the world who prey on the weak to look strong. At the time of my legion’s founding, I was better than that. With a few friends at my back, we had a noble goal, take back the wastelands. Arming was simply a matter of scavenging up enough materials and manuals to teach ourselves. While I studied military doctrine and strategy, others worked as blacksmiths, or carpenters. We made do.”

Twilight raised a hoof, her face re-obscured by the scroll as the writing began anew.

“If you don’t mind me asking, how much of your world was this “Wasteland”? Is it like the Badlands just outside of Equestria?”

“I haven’t seen that much of your world to make a complete comparison, but…”

Elias paused, combing through his recent memories of the day he had spent in the woods.

“Here, the sun shines; almost too brightly. The sky is still blue. The trees, the grass it’s all…” He fumbled for the word. “Alive. On Earth, most of the world isn’t like that. There are a few oases that provide food and clean water, but the rest? It’s just gone.”

“Dead,” Elias finished flatly. His eyes became vacant as he stared at the table.

The dining room fell eerily silent. Nobody said anything. Elias took a deep breath, then re-focused back in, drawing his thoughts back from the darker corners of his mind. He looked up to find everyone staring at him once more, a range of emotions evident on their faces; primarily empathetic grief. Twilight broke the silence.

“What happened?” she asked bluntly.

Celestia shot her a rebuking glare.

“Twilight that is hardly appro-.”

Elias raised his hand slightly to stop the admonishment.

“It’s fine. It happened years ago.” He sighed, his eyes staring at the table once more, though now they had an intensity behind them. “These days I don’t even feel a sense of loss. As bad as they were, the wastelands were home for half my life. I was a child when the world died.”

Elias chuckled without humor.

“The sad part is that I cannot honestly remember what it was like to be a kid. It makes me feel old.”

Elias adjusted in his seat, sitting taller so his voice wouldn’t be as growly. As the textbooks said; proper professional orators practice perfect poetic posture precisely. He had only read that line once and somehow it had stuck like a cancer in his head.

“I was thirteen when it happened. I was already… scarred at the time because of an incident that happened the year before, so I almost didn’t notice.”

He chuckled again.

“So wrapped up in myself that I almost slept through the end of the world. It’d be funny if it wasn’t so pointless.”

Elias picked up the unused spoon from his napkin, spinning it between his fingers, admiring the glint as he continued.

“Earth was a planet of eight billion people, a million cultures; both old and new, forgotten and thriving. There were hundreds of countries, most with their own language, whether an original one, or a spin of a common tongue.”

“Eight billion?” Twilight asked in awe. “How did they all get along?”

Elias frowned.

“They didn’t,” he replied. “Never have, and now they never will.”

He looked up from the table and matched Celestia’s eyes, who was listening with rapt attention.

“Something you have to understand about humans is that we are a violent species. It’s how we’ve always been. From the first caveman to figure out fire could be used as something more than a heat source, to the animals that figured out how to create weapons that could snuff out millions in a second. Human ingenuity shined brightest when it came to learning new ways to kill each other. Our best inventions have been born from war. We are flightless, but we found a way to travel hundreds of miles in minutes because we wanted planes that couldn’t be shot down. We saw the stars above our heads and decided we wanted to get closer, so we took a weapon of war and we did it. We went to space, touched our moon.”

Elias smiled wistfully.

“I only wish that I could have been born just a bit earlier. To see such a feat would have been…”

His voice trailed off as he imagined it. A long-suppressed part of his mind rose, but was quickly quelled. Elias set the spoon down gently as he dragged himself back on track.

“Anyway, the most powerful nations, my own included, hoarded weapons that could extinguish life on an untold scale. The idea was that if they had enough, they could deter others from using them.”

Elias scratched his head and smiled.

“And that worked?” Nightshade asked. While she was much better at concealing her curiosity and shock than Twilight or Scalpel, Elias was able to detect more than a little of both in her voice. He chuckled and nodded.

“Surprisingly enough, it did for a while. Until it didn’t.”

All humor vanished from his face.

“Some fat idiot from some dictatorship in the middle of nowhere that nobody thought was a threat decided he didn’t care about the consequences of his actions; so, he pushed a button.”

Elias snapped his fingers.

“And like that thirteen million people were dead. So, the nightmare began.”

Elias sighed, rubbing his thumb on a callus on his middle finger.

“I won’t share the details, suffice to say that all of the worst fears about the weapons came to light within seconds. Nobody would take a step back and pursue a smart solution. It was far too late for that.”

Elias felt his eye twitch as he watched Twilight write. He had kept the detail about nukes deliberately vague, hopefully enough so that nobody would even attempt asking about them. Twilight was writing down everything he was saying, and while he had no doubt that Celestia kept her on a short leash, others who read her notes may not be so restricted. He wouldn’t be responsible for a nuclear holocaust.

Elias looked away from the purple unicorn and back to Celestia.

“It took minutes. The human race went from the mightiest species in the solar system, a species who dreamed about touching the stars, a species who consisted of masters of every art, of every craft; we went from eight billion people to just over five million, scattered across a dying, blasted globe that held less life with each day.”

Elias scratched his scalp again.

“My family and I, we were in the middle of some nowhere forest. We liked how quiet it was, how peaceful. The quiet only made it louder when the ground began to shake, and the sky turned white. The screams were haunting. We were miles outside of the nearest town, yet we still heard the screaming. Then we saw the smoke. Then we smelled it.” He smirked. “I can’t think of one good reason why a thirteen year old kid should know what a dead body smells like, but there it was.”

“The death of a species,” Elias said hollowly. “And I got a front row seat.”

He sighed and looked up again. The table was dead silent. All of the ponies occupying it were completely stunned. For the first time since he had sat down, Twilight’s feather was still, its scratching silent as well. Even Luna’s face, which had borne a gaze of constant suspicion since they had met in the infirmary, was painted with pure shock. Celestia was the first to recover, albeit very slowly. Her eyes locked with his.

“I… don’t know what else to say but to give you my sincerest apologies Elias. For something so horrible to happen, especially when you were still so young… I can’t imagine the pain you must carry."

Elias shrugged and tore his eyes away from her sad gaze.

“I moved past that a long time ago. I’ve learned that you can’t dwell on the past. Otherwise, it haunts you to the point you can’t function. At some point, you simply… stop. Stop thinking about it, stop caring about it. It’s just the way it is.”

“B…. but so many.” Twilight stammered. “How… how do you stop caring?”

Elias shrugged. The motion felt stiff. His body was beginning to tense up. He had no doubt in his mind why.

“You just don’t. You can’t grieve for everyone. It will kill you; I’ve watched people simply die from grief. The only way to keep going, to survive, is to kill first; even if that means killing the part of yourself that cared.”

“It’s cold,” Elias said. “I understand that, but I can honestly tell you that I wouldn’t still be breathing if I didn’t cut away most of my emotional ties. It’s the way it had to be.”

The feather and the paper dropped to the table as Twilight slammed a hoof down.

“You can’t simply cut off your emotions,” she said angrily. “And you shouldn’t either! It’s heartless.”

Elias’ eyes flicked upward, staring at her in barely concealed anger. A familiar fire was building in his gut, and Elias tried to take a deep breath to keep his mind calm. He couldn’t lose control now.

“It isn’t a matter of should or shouldn’t. It is a matter of necessity. I did what I had to. I cut away what I needed to.”

That evidently wasn’t enough for the pony.

“What about your family? Or your friends?” she asked, her voice beginning to rise. “Did you cut them away too? Were they left behind? Or did you never care?”

Elias was on his feet before he even knew he was in motion. He felt his eye twitch as his rage built.

“I buried my family,” Elias snapped back. Twilight flinched visibly, cowering back. Her mouth flapped as she tried to express regret, but it was far too late for that now. “Both of my parents, both sisters. Gone. Dead. When you lose that much, when you have to dig the graves, then come talk to me about what you should and shouldn’t do with your emotions.”

Celestia slowly stood, trying to remain unthreatening as she attempted to calm him.

“Elias, please. I am sure that Twilight did not mean-…”

“No!” Elias shouted, slamming his fist into the table. “I have lost everything! Everyone I have ever known is gone. Dead and buried and I will never get to see them again; only to be accused of not caring enough by someone who could never approach the level of suffering on any given day in an entire lifetime!”

Elias slammed the table again, savoring the pain in his hand. His ears were ringing, like someone held church bells next to his head. His heartbeat led the way in the chorus of ringing, providing the rhythm for the maelstrom consuming his rationality.

“I carry the weight of thousands on my back. Every memory, every person, every grave I have had to fill, it fills every space in my soul. Every thought is twisted by someone I have lost; every action I take I wonder what could have been if I had been strong enough to save them.”

He hit the table for a third time.

“I will not sit here and be accused of not caring when I have not gotten a single peaceful night of sleep in years that isn’t plagued by some memory of someone I cared about screaming as they meet an awful end.”

Elias closed his eyes, his fist resting on the table. He took a shaky breath.

“I will not,” he repeated quietly, his voice at a whisper.

Elias’s voice caught at the back of his throat. A wave of emotions that he had been keeping at bay for months rushed to the front of his mind like a hurricane. His eyes grew wet in a way that they hadn’t in years. His chest shuddered as he struggled to breathe.

“I need air,” he whispered, shaking his head.

Elias took a deep breath and straightened to his full height.

“Do those lead outside?” he asked, pointing to the doors at the far end of the dining room.

“They do,” Nightshade answered dumbly.

Elias nodded.

“If you’ll excuse me.”

Elias quickly moved around the table and strode across the room, opening the doors wide as he stepped into the cool night.