//------------------------------// // Stomach Rot // Story: The Bug in The Cave // by Skijarama //------------------------------// Over the remaining nights of his punishment, Thorax made it a point to travel to the balcony during the night and watch out for the flares of magic in the distance. It was a strange compulsion, one that he couldn’t quite wrap his head around. He didn’t understand why, but for some reason, seeing those bursts of light out there in the distance, barely visible unless you were actively searching for them, gave him some small comfort. Maybe it was because of who he believed was casting the spell. That purple pony he had met in that cave. The fact that she was, as far as he could recall, the only one to treat him with an ounce of kindness — barring his brother, of course — in all his life had really made an impression. He had been expecting her to disappear and vanish after he left her behind, but now that he knew she was still around… It was something of a relief, in an admittedly selfish way. It meant that he wasn’t alone, not really. Somewhere out there was another creature, one that had been nice to him, if a bit skittish, and who was probably feeling just as lost and confused as him. Sadly, all good things must come to an end, as the old saying went. On the final night of his punishment, he had wrapped up his patrol and took his place on the balcony, his eyes probing the horizon where he knew the spell would go off. Any minute now… any minute. But it never came. Thorax strained his eyes and dared to look around, hoping in vain that maybe he was just looking in the wrong spot. No such luck. The sky remained dark. An anxious chittering noise came from the bottom of Thorax’s voice, and he shuffled uneasily on his haunches. “She’s probably fine,” he thought to himself, lifting up one hoof to rub at his shoulder. “She probably went home. She did say she had come here with others, so she must have found them and left…” But somehow, he just knew that wasn’t true. Or at the very least, he dearly feared that it wasn’t. Was she in some kind of trouble? Was she hurt? Did she get lost out there? There were so many possible threats out in the Badlands that could leap on and destroy the unprepared, and that pony had seemed about as unprepared as one could get. Each one he thought of made his heart drop lower and lower in his chitin-clad chest. “I need to go to her,” he finally determined to himself, his wings wavering on his back. The question then became, how would he go about it? He didn’t want to get in trouble again, after all… The following morning, Thorax stepped out of a hole in the wall and into a large chamber tunneled into the shape of a towering cylinder. Hundreds of small caves and rooms were burrowed into the walls at even intervals that served as the bunks for the Hive’s many warriors. A single one could house up to twelve drones at once with room for personal space, and almost twenty if they clustered tightly together. Most of those drones were out of their rooms, now, many of them gathered on the spacious floors below to perform training exercises. Others were performing aerial routines to wake themselves up or improve their agility. The rest had probably received orders and fluttered off to carry them out without question long before Thorax arrived. His eyes swept over the room, hunting for one changeling in particular. Luckily, the unusual colors of his brother stood out like a sore thumb amidst his peers. Pharynx was down at the bottom level, barking out instructions to an assembled team of twelve drones who were all in the process of doing copious amounts of push-ups. Taking a deep breath, Thorax snapped out his wings and descended. He passed by a few other drones on the way, but none of them even gave him the time of day to harass him. A small blessing, albeit a hurtful one. As soon as Thorax’s hooves touched down on the cold stone floor, Pharynx turned to glance at him with a puzzled frown. “Thorax? What are you doing here?” he asked before glaring back at the drones before him. “I’m watching you lot! If I spot any slackers, I’ll crack all of your shells!” As the thoroughly-motivated drones continued their workout, Pharynx gave his undivided attention to his little brother. “You look like garbage,” he noted callously. “I slept like garbage,” Thorax replied quietly, lowering his eyes to look at his brother’s hooves. “And? Are you here to whine that the floor’s too cold or something?” Pharynx asked impatiently. “I’m trying to do my job here, Thorax. So unless this is important, buzz off and leave me be.” Thorax winced under Pharynx’s harsh tone. A moment later, though, he pulled himself together and spoke up. “I… I was wondering if I could…” he tried, but the words caught in his throat. “You’re off punishment now, you know,” Pharynx pointed out, starting to tap his hoof. “So just spit it out! And remember your rank! Address me properly!” Thorax snapped to attention without a moment’s hesitation. “S-sorry, sir! I want to request to go on lone wolf patrols, sir!” he finally explained, his fear of reprimand driving him to blurt the words without even thinking about it. A few of the drones doing push-ups glanced up at him in surprise. Pharynx, as if sensing this, glared back at them. “What did I say about slackers?!” he snapped, his horn sparking to life with green magic. The listening drones were quick to get back to work. Satisfied that they would not be interrupted again, Pharynx returned his attention to Thorax, a puzzled frown on his face. “Lone wolf patrol?” Thorax nodded. “Yes, sir.” “Why?” Thorax hesitated, his eyes lowering again. “...I let you all down with that Tatzelwurm when the rain was coming down,” he began, his ears drooping. “I ran off… Scorpion and Mandible are right. I’m weak, and I’m a coward.” “Which is why this request makes absolutely no sense,” Pharynx pointed out, his brow furrowing. “You do know what you’re signing up for, right?” Thorax met his brother’s eyes, his heart beating just a little faster as he really thought about it. “Y-yes, sir,” he eventually confirmed. “Explain it to me, then. Prove that you understand.” “Lone wolf patrol is when a single drone patrols the wastes around the Hive on their own with the intention of locating intruders and detaining them,” Thorax recited without memory. “They are on their own for the duration of their rounds to minimize visibility. They are the silent eyes of the Hive all over the badlands.” “Correct. It’s a tough job, and it can get exceedingly dangerous,” Pharynx started slowly, taking a few steps closer. He lowered his voice, dropping his professionalism for a moment to let something far gentler seep through. “And you are weak. Incredibly so. You are not strong enough to perform such a task on your own, and given your habit of running away from anything that scares you-” “This will make me stronger,” Thorax argued back, his brow furrowing. “Please, Pharynx. I… I don’t like letting you down like that. I want to pull my own weight and do my part, for your sake, if nothing else, but I can’t do that if you don’t let me improve.” “So run the training exercises,” Pharynx argued back. “Do your rounds, come to practice, train for Hive’s sake. Don’t go running out into the wilds on your own.” “But Pharynx…” Thorax pleaded, lowering his head slightly to make himself look small and pitiful. “You know that the other drones won’t let me.” “They follow my orders,” Pharynx snarled quietly, his eyes darting back to oversee the soldiers around them. “Any hoof they lay on you, I will personally break.” Thorax winced at that unpleasant mental image. This sort of overprotectiveness was nothing new, but it never became any less unsettling. As averse as he was to actual violence, Thorax always found it deeply disquieting when his only brother, his own flesh and blood, threatened to harm others of their own kind on his behalf. As much as he appreciated the protection, the aggression that it came with was less pleasing. “Then what if I go out as a scout instead?” Thorax suggested meekly. “Not to engage or detain enemies, but to spot problems and report them to the drones that can do something?” Pharynx hesitated at that before turning back to his younger brother, one eyebrow quirked. “Think about it,” Thorax went on, trying to build up some confidence. “We already know I’m good at running away, so why don’t we give me a job where running away is useful? If I find a threat, I run right back to the Hive and tell you about it. And all that time on my own should help me learn to pull my own weight.” Pharynx was quiet for several seconds, considering Thorax with a thoughtful frown. He lifted a hoof to stroke at his chin for a few seconds before giving a slow nod. “Alright… okay, fine, I’ll tell you what. I will let you go out on lone wolf scouting runs for the next month. But I expect you to be back on time, and I expect you to be extremely detailed in your reports. And I had best see a pretty massive improvement in your physique and confidence at the end of it. And if I suspect that it’s not a good fit or too much for you to handle, I will cut you off from that job without a second thought. Do I make myself clear, soldier?” Thorax snapped back to attention. “Sir, yes sir!” he confirmed, relief flooding his heart. Pharynx jerked his head up. “Then hop to it. I’m expecting you back when the sun touches the horizon. Any later than that and you’re in trouble.” Thorax nodded his head before turning and flying back up for the wall. As the stone parted before him, he couldn’t help but grin with joy, and he was barely able to contain an overly ecstatic laugh. He had done it! He had his way out! Now he just had to wait for the time to depart, and he could make his way for the pony! “Thank you, brother,” he thought to himself as he disappeared amid the ever-shifting crags of the Hive. Thorax’s patrol began not long after, and he soon found himself soaring through the air over the badlands. He had assumed the shape of a rust-red hawk for this leg of the journey, to not draw any undue attention. If there were any other ponies out here with that purple one, he couldn’t risk drawing their attention to him. Every so often, he swept his eyes across the terrain below him to check for any noteworthy issues he would need to report back. As true as it was that he was exploiting these solo patrols to check on that pony, he had to keep up appearances if he wanted to keep doing this. Nothing caught his attention, though, and soon enough, the cave came into view. Thorax looked down at the slope of sand in front of the entrance, taking note of the several sets of partially-faded hoofprints that came and went. If he had to guess, the oldest set was no more than twenty-four hours old. Thorax folded his fake wings up at his side and aimed himself for the ground in a nosedive. The sands rose to meet him quickly, filling his field of view. At the last second, he snapped out his wings as wide as he could to slow his fall. With a few quick flaps, a small cloud of dust was kicked up around him before his talons touched down lightly on the sand. Thorax took a quick look around to ensure he wasn’t being followed, and then made his way for the cave entrance. He strained his ears as he approached, trying to pick out any discernable noises that might clue him in about what awaited him inside. Several seconds passed before he heard something. A low, queasy groan from a decidedly feminine voice reverberated from around the bend, followed by the shifting of fabric. Thorax frowned and took a step back. That was the pony’s voice, alright. She didn’t sound too good, though, was she sick? Backing out of the cave and putting some distance between it and himself, Thorax allowed himself to revert back to his true form in a swirl of fire. He took a deep breath to steady his quaking nerves, then stepped into the cave again. His hoof scraped against the stone floor the moment he stepped inside, the sound echoing loudly in the quiet cave. Up ahead, he heard the pony inhale sharply before falling completely silent. Thorax paused, listening in. The mare had obviously heard him. “...H-hello?” he called out after a moment, not wanting her to freak out and attack him the way she had the first time they had met. “It’s me, Thorax. Are you still in here?” A shuddering exhale was the response. It sounded like she was relieved to hear the familiar voice, but… there was something else. Something wrong. Growing more concerned by the second, Thorax strode slowly forward into the cave. “Why isn’t she saying anything?” He got his answer when he rounded the corner. His eyes fell on the mare lying down in a cobbled-together bedroll.  Her coat was drenched in a cold sweat that had soaked into her blankets, staining them. She was visibly a few shades paler than Thorax remembered, shaking and shivering uncontrollably. Her eyes were wide and darted around frantically, and the muscles in her jaw worked themselves repeatedly as if she were trying to open her mouth, but couldn’t. Horrified, Thorax stepped closer and lt up his horn to get a better look. “Woah… oh my goodness, are you alright?!” he asked, reaching down with his hoof to feel at her forehead. “She’s burning up,” he realized the second his cold chitin made contact with her blazing flesh. He withdrew with wide eyes, racking his brain for any idea of what was happening. “C-c-c-c…” The mare choked out, trying to form words. She opened her mouth barely even an inch, groaning with strain as her muscles rebelled. “C-c-can’t… t-t-t-talk… s-s-sick.” Bit by bit, she forced herself to form the broken sounds into words that Thorax could understand. “W-w-water… th-th-thir-irsty.” Thorax looked past her, his eyes settling on the pool of water in the back of the cave. All at once, it clicked into place, and his heart dropped into the pits of his stomach. “Oh, no… I think you have stomach rot,” he realized, taking a step back. If the mare could get any paler, she surely did at that moment. The air began to reek of her fear and confusion, while her body locked up. “R-r-rot?” she rasped out. Thorax nodded slowly. “Y-yeah, it’s uh… d-do you have this disease where you’re from?” A shake of the head. “Oh, dear… kay, uh…” Thorax stood awkwardly in place for several seconds, trying to think of what he could do. Stomach Rot was a nasty disease, to put it mildly. He was no expert on its finer points, but he did know the symptoms. Waterborne, Stomach Rot would cause the victim’s body to enter into a state of partial paralysis after it took effect, causing a ridiculously high fever, along with upsetting the bowels. The worst part was the queasiness, where the disease had gotten its name. For victims, it felt as if their entire gut was decomposing at a rapid rate, leading to frequent bouts of vomiting and other, far less pleasant forms of waste disposal. Most alarming of all, however, was the fact that, if it went untreated for too long, Stomach Rot could be fatal. Struggling to keep himself from flying into a panic of his own, Thorax knelt down and stared imploringly into the mare’s eyes. “How long have you been like this?” he asked urgently, leaving no room for debate. The pony blinked, swallowed heavily, and managed a crooked response. “L-last… n-night.” Thorax relaxed, albeit only slightly. She had yet to hit the worst of it. If he moved fast, there was a chance he could help her. “Alright, uh… just stay there, try not to move!” he instructed before turning and flying out of the cave as fast as his buzzing wings could carry him. Fear, confusion, and curiosity. Those were the three emotions that had filled Twilight’s entire being ever since she had started shaking in the back of her cave the previous night. Her strength had left her very rapidly, leaving her in her bed and incapable of getting up to hunt for food or supplies. As the night dragged on, her symptoms had only gotten worse and worse, leaving her incapable of even a moment of sleep. Her muscles had gradually begun to grow stiff inside her body, making it difficult to move or act in any meaningful way, and her stomach had never felt so revolting in all the years she had owned it. In her fever-induced delirium, she had honestly considered buying a replacement when she got back to Ponyville, completely discounting the fact that, typically speaking, ponies didn’t sell stomachs. “I’ll just write a letter to the Princess,” she had thought when she had a brief moment of clarity to remember that detail. “Get her to legalize the sale of stomachs. Just need to talk to Spike. Where is he?” And then she had remembered she was all alone out here. “Crud.” Hours had passed like this; before, finally, the light of the dawn began to seep in through the cave mouth, just out of sight. She had tried to pull herself over there, but her worsening symptoms had made that basically impossible. She was stranded on her bedroll, feeling almost suffocated by her own blankets, frequently devolving into dry heaving fits and feeling incredibly thankful that she had eaten very little over the last few days. She was not in the mood for that sort of mess. It was pretty obvious what had happened. She had gotten too greedy in her consumption of the cave’s water without having any means of cleaning it. No reliable or long-term means, at least. She must have gotten some kind of disease. Dysentery, perhaps, or some far-off cousin to the infamous disease that had ruined the journeys of so many in the past. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of sweat, fever, and unbearable feelings of decay inside her own body, Thorax came. Twilight now watched the changeling flying in and out of her cave, bringing supplies in, exploding in fire to chisel at a block of rock he found somewhere, changing back, and then flying outside again. All the while, he was rambling to himself. Or maybe he was talking to her. It was hard to tell through the sound of her own heart beating wildly in her ears like the drums of war for some ancient, isolated tribe of warriors. That was an interesting mental image. She was going to think about that for a while. She was just getting to the part where she was watching them perform the ritual sacrifice of an already-dead chicken when she felt herself being lifted up off the ground by the head. “Wait, no, put me back! I need to take notes! This is too culturally significant!” All that came out of her lips was a quiet murmur, followed shortly after by the gurgling of her stomach. “Okay, drink this,” Thorax’s voice echoed in her ears as something hard and hot was pressed against her lips. She felt liquid lapping at her mouth, and instinct kicked in. With what little strength she had, she opened her mouth and allowed the fluid to swim down her throat. It was hot, and it burned, and the taste was far from what she would call pleasant, but at this point, she wasn’t going to complain. Thorax pulled it away every few seconds to avoid accidentally drowning her, then brought it back so she could sip some more. With every sip she took, her mind gradually began to clear up, her eyes refocusing on the real world as the delusional fever dream began to subside. She still felt absolutely horrible, but at least now she could see and think with a moderate degree of clarity. And so came the curiosity. “What did he just feed me?” Thorax set aside the bowl made out of chiseled stone that he had held up to her lips, before smiling down at her. “How are you feeling, now?” he asked, his two-toned voice making her ears hurt and her heart sing. Oh, how good it felt to have another creature talking at her again! Groaning, Twilight slowly sat up. She immediately regretted that decision, her hooves clutching themselves to her stomach as she experiences another wave of nausea. She slowly lay back down and glanced sideways at Thorax in confusion. “W-what… I… I f-f-feel a li-little better,” she stumbled over her words, realizing that she was still shivering horribly. Thorax grimaced with sympathy. “Yeah, I bet. You contracted stomach rot. It’s pretty rough… Honestly, you’re lucky I decided to come back and find you. Any longer, and I probably wouldn’t have been able to help.” Twilight swallowed heavily, deeply unsettled by the implication. “R-right… w-well, uh, th-thank y-you,” she stammered, forcing herself to smile. Her eyes then fell on the bowl, and she frowned. “W-where did y-you g-get that?” Thorax looked down at the bowl. “Oh, this? I made it,” he explained, lifting it up and showing it to her. Twilight blinked. “How?” Thorax exploded again, swallowed in a sudden rush of green flames. Twilight shrieked, her eyes screwing shut in anticipation of a wave of scorching heat and charred body parts pummeling her. “I turned into this,” Thorax’s voice spoke, causing Twilight to open up her eyes again. Where once there had been a creature that vaguely resembled an insect-like pony, there was now an enormous woodpecker bird with a particularly rugged beak. It was tall enough that its head would come up to Twilight’s chin, were she standing. The bird then turned and jabbed its beak into the wall of the cave, chipping away a few sizable pieces with ear-splitting cracks. The bird exploded, and when the flames faded, there was Thorax yet again, grinning ear to ear. “Stonedrillers aren’t all that common this far into the badlands, but I’ve run into a few on patrol. I needed some way of making something that could safely hold water, and some of the rocks around the outside are more than perfect for the bill.” Twilight blinked a few times, trying to wrap her head around what she had just witnessed. She lifted a hoof up to the side of her head, frowning. “Uh… Okay, y-you’re throwing a lot at m-me here. And what did you feed me?” Thorax chuckled before lifting up the bowl in his magic. “I used some local mosses and small flowers to make a tea. It won’t cure stomach rot, but it’ll help soothe your symptoms a little, and it should help your body fight back against it.” Twilight shuddered, pulling her blankets closer in a vain attempt to stifle her uncontrollable shivering. “How? I l-looked all over the place, a-and I couldn’t find any p-plants. Just d-dry moss…” “Well, you just need to know where to look,” Thorax replied with a shrug. “We use a lot of the local plant life back in the Hive for medicinal purposes, and all of us who go on patrol are given training in how to find the best herbs for treating illness and injury. That was, ah…” he drifted the bowl over to the pool as he spoke, his expression turning sheepish. “That was probably the only training course I did any good in…” Twilight watched as best as she could as Thorax dipped the bowl into the pool, gathering up a decent amount of water, before bringing it back over to her fireplace. She only now noticed that it was lit, albeit with only a small flame, and more stones had been assembled to create a makeshift stove over the open flame. Thorax set the bowl on top, and the air briefly sizzled as the moisture that had clung to the outside met the freakishly-hot surface of the stove. Twilight swallowed heavily. She had contemplated using the local rocks to try and make something like that, but the drain on her magic had made her extraordinarily hesitant to try it. Besides, she had no idea whether or not these rocks were safe to place near a fire or eat out of, anyway. Poisonous minerals were a very real risk, and she had enough to worry about. And now here came Thorax, doing all of that in as many minutes as she had spent days in this sun-scorched wasteland. Twilight felt almost annoyed. She certainly felt one-upped. But Thorax was a native, and he was helping her, so who was she to complain? The two were silent for a second, with Thorax idly observing the bowl and waiting for the contents within to heat up to a satisfactory point, and Twilight watching him with wrapt attention. It wasn’t like there was much else she could do right now. “Hey, uh,” Thorax suddenly spoke up, making Twilight jump as she came out of her thoughts. She looked to see him staring back at her with confusion. He tilted his head at her, a curious chittering noise coming out of him. “I don’t think I ever caught your name.” Twilight was quiet for a second before putting on a small smile. “I’m T-Twilight Sparkle… thank you for helping me, Thorax.” He smiled. “Nice to meet you, Twilight Sparkle. It’s my pleasure.”