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// Self-Doubt 
// Story: Trust Once Lost 
// by Greenhorne 
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My anger didn't feel right. In my old body, when I was angry, I felt powerful. I would have been able to feel the coiled strength of my muscles, and the heady sense of invulnerability that went along with a sudden adrenaline hit. I would have felt like I was holding myself back from doing damage to something. Now it felt like all I was holding back was a temper tantrum.

Weakness and vulnerability were things I'd never been willing to accept in myself, and I'd been fortunate that I'd never had to. Growing up, I was always taller and stronger than average, something I had my dad to thank for, both with his genetics and his efforts to keep me involved in some kind of sport even when I'd have preferred to be reading or playing video games. From age thirteen I chose martial arts.

On the rare occasions I was forced into a fight at school I ended it swiftly and decisively, without injuring anyone. I was miserable at school, and looking back I can admit I was lonely, but I never feared for my physical safety, and that was something I took great comfort in.

This new body was weak. The years of training I had put into training my balance, reflexes and movement counted for nothing. All I had left was my mind, and now my mental toughness had failed me too.

I was weak, lost, and scared but, rather than wish someone was here to comfort me, I was relieved that no-one else was around to see my moment of weakness.

As I lay there on the river bank, watching the sky turn orange, I sighed. My adrenaline had ebbed, my fatigue and the dull ache of my muscles returning.

You're such an idiot, I said in my head. I didn't want to hear my new voice.

I tried to tell myself that I didn't care what anyone else thought of me, but here I was, in a life and death situation, terrified of anyone seeing me look weak. I realised in that moment that, while I didn't care about people underestimating me, the thought of people seeing me when I was actually helpless was terrifying.







I glared at the pile of sticks as if trying to set them alight with sheer force of will. Which given I was a magical unicorn should have been entirely possible. I went cross-eyed looking at my horn, but there wasn't so much as a glow.

I'd done my best without any hands or tools. Under the pile of sticks was a pyramid of small twigs for kindling painstakingly arranged by mouth, and inside that was some dried out moss which I hoped would work as tinder.

I understood the theory of starting a fire by rubbing sticks together, but I'd only ever done it once, almost two decades ago, and at that time I had made a bow drill using my bootlaces.

The concept of a bow drill is pretty straightforward if you've ever seen one; you wrap your string around a stick and then you pull the string side to side to make it rotate rapidly, rubbing the end against a piece of wood until the friction created an ember which you could use to light your tinder.

I didn't have any string, and even if I'd wanted to make some string by braiding together plant fibers, I didn't know how to do that without hands. I also knew you could start a fire by spinning a stick between your palms, though it was much more difficult, especially for a child or someone with small hands.

So I sat in the dark, trying not to shiver while I twirled a stick I had pressed between my two front hooves. A few times I got a good rhythm going for a couple minutes, but inevitably the stick would slip from between my hooves which led to cursing as I frantically tried to get the stick back into position before the tip cooled off too much.

I was so tired. With my old body I knew I could go a night without sleep, and then even most of the next day before I truly crashed. Right now I felt like I'd been up two straight days. I was biting my tongue to try to stay awake, but my mouth still felt a bit numb. I smashed my hoof down on a rock, and it hurt, I couldn't stop the hot tears running down my face, but it didn't reduce my fatigue any.

When my eyes closed for a couple moments, I saw flashes of a dream, people's voices, the sounds of them moving around, and it took a second to reorient myself as I wrestled my consciousness back from the brink. I thought I saw smoke coming from the stick at one point, but it might have been a dream, or my eyes playing tricks in the dark; In any case, it wasn't the ember I needed to light the fire.

I don't know how much of my attempt to start the fire I dreamed, and how much was real, but at some point I fell asleep.





Contrary to the common trope, someone who's severely sleep deprived doesn't fall into a dreamless sleep. Quite the opposite; the more sleep deprived you are, the faster you will progress into REM sleep.

I knew I was dreaming, but I couldn't wake up. Having lucid dreams wasn't uncommon for me, but rarely did I have omnipotence in them. I could change the dream a bit, like making myself invulnerable, or erasing parts of the dream I didn't like, but I couldn't fully choose what I wanted to dream about.

I was dreaming about myself, in my present situation, and I was being attacked by timberwolves. It terrified me.

I knew they couldn't actually harm me in my dream, but at the same moment I was sleeping out in the open, too exhausted to even put up a fight. I'd made a terrible mistake and there was nothing I could do but hope and pray that nothing bad would happen to my body while I was unconscious.

In Equestria, it turned out, the local deities responded to prayers in a much more immediate and unambiguous way than they did back home.

In a flash of magic, a midnight blue alicorn appeared, standing over top of me protectively. Her size was on a scale such that I could have hidden myself behind one of her legs as an anxious foal might behind the foreleg of its mother. The timber wolves froze in place.

"Fear not, my little pony!" she exclaimed, heroically, "I have heard your call. Nothing shall harm you in my domain!"

I knew why she chose this protective posture, yet my human mind immediately jumped to the lewder implication of being underneath her. Blushing, I scrambled out from the compromising position, moving into a bow.

"P-princess Luna! You're, uh." don't say bigger, don't say bigger, don't say bigger, "Taller than I expected."

Smooth.

Luna looked at me with a raised eyebrow.

"Rise, my little pony." She instructed, "You are dreaming. What you see before you cannot harm you."

"I know."

"You know this is a dream?" She questioned, "Then why does it frighten you so? I felt your waves of terror all the way from Canterlot."

"Afraid of these?" I asked, reducing the timberwolves to ash and cinders with a wave of my tiny hoof. "No. I haven't feared my dreams since I was twelve."

Luna gave me an appraising look.

"While I'm here, my body is in danger, in the real world." I explained, "I'm not sure exactly how much danger but, based on how badly I screwed everything else up today, I'll probably die of hypothermia or something."

Luna's serene expression morphed into one of shocked outrage.

"You're out in the cold? Who has done this?" She demanded, "No pony should be forced out into the cold simply for making mistakes!"

This was the critical point, I could either pretend to be a lost pony and be assured of her aid, or I could tell the truth and risk whatever came along with that. She might have thought that I was crazy, or dangerous, or perhaps that it was some kind of joke.

I could tell an easy lie, or I could trust another person. So obviously I chose the lie.

"What?" I exclaimed, "No, nopony did this to me, I'm just lost, and I can't remember how I got here, or much of anything really."

The trick to telling a convincing lie is to believe it while you're saying it.

I was lost, I didn’t know how I got here, and while someone might think I meant no-one had transported me here what I really meant in my head was that it was my own fault for getting myself into the present situation. There was no way for me to know if I was missing any memories, or even if my human memories were real. I didn't really have any doubt, but I could entertain that idea easily enough. After all, there was no evidence they were real, apart from their internal consistency. If someone could change my location and body on a whim, why would it be unbelievable for them to fabricate a lifetime of human memories and inserting them into my pony brain?

I was lying by telling the truth. Just to smooth over any misunderstandings. That wasn't taking advantage of anyone, it was just being pragmatic. I'm not a bad person.

"I know it's asking a lot, but could you send somepony to come save me?" I asked, rubbing the back of my head in embarrassment, "I'm not really as much of a survivalist as I thought I was. I don't have any food, and I couldn't get a fire started."

And I'm so terrified of screwing up and dying that gave myself a full-blown panic attack. I didn't feel comfortable saying that last part out loud; it was bad enough she could sense my fear, I couldn't stand the thought of actually admitting it.

Even now I was trying to convince myself that I didn’t need her help, that when I woke up, I could keep working the problem; just because I’d failed the first day didn’t mean I was helpless now. I could figure out how to start a fire, I could try other foods. I could follow the river to the sea if I had to, and then I’d work my way along the coast.

Luna’s expression changed to one of worry and my hope for the rescue I was pretending not to need was abruptly yanked away.

“I’m afraid my magic won’t be able to find you that precisely,” she explained, “I can feel you are far away, but directions in the dream realm cannot be translated into real coordinates. You truly have no idea of your location?”

“Ah well, it was worth a shot,” I sighed, “thanks for trying anyway.”

“Fear not, young one,” Luna encouraged, “we have the power of crown and country behind us, you shall not be abandoned!”

“No!” I said hurriedly, “You don’t have to do that, I’ll be fine, really! I can find my own way, I don’t want the whole country searching for me like I’m some helpless foal!”

What are you saying, you lunatic?! You’re willing to risk death out in the wilderness just so people won’t be inconvenienced by searching for you?

The rational part of my mind was screaming at me, but my emotional side was much less encouraging.

You’re lying to them, they shouldn’t have to waste their effort on someone who’s just taking advantage of their trust and goodwill.

Luna looked at me sadly.

Idiot! You’re making her feel sorry for you! Now she’s going to worry about your mental wellbeing too and she’s definitely going to start a search. They’re all going to be worried sick trying to find their lost pony and when the truth comes out, they’ll hate you forever!

In a sudden shift in the dreamscape Luna was behind me, a wing wrapped around me protectively.

“Oh little one, I know you're no foal,” She tried to comfort me, “You're a brave little filly, but there is no shame in needing help. Everypony needs help sometimes, even princesses.”

Oh.

I was a child.

That put things a few things in a different context.

I was lost, hungry, scared, and I was a child. Of course she would be so intent on finding me. The pony equivalent of an AMBER alert was probably spreading across all of Equestria by now.

Well now I had to get myself rescued as quickly as possible, to stop ponies from worrying about me, if nothing else. I could still be proactive.

First things first, I allowed Luna to comfort me. She was trying to calm a frightened child so if I wasn't soothed it would only add to her worries.

I relaxed and slowed my breathing, feeling her warmth and her kind intentions as they radiated in the dreamscape. I managed to make myself believe at least for a while that I was actually just a lost filly.

"We know there is something you are not telling us." I felt Luna's voice rumble in her chest which I had pressed to my cheek in her hug. She felt me tense up in an involuntary response I couldn't suppress. "We shall not force thee to share, but heed our words for we know well the folly of hiding our burdens from those who would help us bear them."

She knows.

Dammit, I have to fix this. Okay, she knows I'm lying which means she thinks she knows when I'm lying. Which means whatever I say next she'll think is a lie because she's actively looking for signs I'm lying. So if I say something I want her to think I'm trying to lie about - damn, what does she know?

All right, I'm a lost child she found who is pretending not to remember anything - oh. Damn, that's dark. She thinks I'm a runaway; a potential abuse victim who doesn't trust anyone, doesn't want to talk about their family, doesn't want to make a fuss because they're afraid their abuser will find them again.

Looking at it from her perspective, if I'd been treating a child who raised half the red flags I had displayed in front of Luna I would have already summoned security and be halfway through dialing child services.

I couldn't tell her the truth even if I wanted to now, she just straight up wouldn't believe me. A child who was already lying to her, that she assumed was trying to hide their abuse, coming out with such an outlandish story? Even if I somehow convinced her I was being honest, she would just think I was delusional.

I couldn’t think of anything to say. Any specific denial would be taken as confirmation and I had already ruled out telling the truth. All right fine, dodge the question. It’s not really lying, even if it will give her the wrong impression.

“Princess, I don’t know how long I have here before I wake up,” I explained, channeling fear and urgency into my voice, hoping to give plausible deniability to why I was changing the subject, “I really need some advice on some more immediate problems - can you show me how to light a fire without matches? Or show me what food I can safely eat?”

Luna gave me a steady look. Clearly she knew exactly what I was doing but, after a moment of piercing eye contact, she took pity and decided not to call me out on it.

“Woodcraft is not one of our fields of expertize.” Luna explained, “If you wish we may invite another into this dream that can better assist you.”

I spotted the imprecise language she had used. The implication I was supposed to take was that she was inviting someone to assist me with woodcraft, but the two statements felt deliberately separated. If I was reading between the lines correctly, she wanted to invite some kind of child expert who would be better at talking to a child in my situation. I wasn’t sure, but if I just went along with it, I would find out if Luna was being dishonest. If she thought I was a dumb kid that wouldn’t pick up on that sort of thing, it was to my advantage not to dissuade her of the notion.

“Of course!” I said, focusing on the excitement of finding out whether I was right, rather than the disappointment that I wasn’t going to get what I was asking for, since it lined up with the expected response if I’d been ignorant.

“Excuse us for one moment.” Luna instructed, relieved I had accepted the offer of assistance, which gave more weight to the theory she was manipulating me into accepting help. “We shall return with another who can aid you.”

Luna was gone in a flash, and I was alone in the dreamscape again. One thing was for sure, I wasn’t lying about needing the advice. In practical terms, I’d checked off the first and most important item; I’d managed to get a call for help out and people were searching for me. The second and third items on the list were finding a way to signal my location to my rescuers and surviving until they found me.