//------------------------------// // 8: Regimen // Story: Lost Gear // by TheFoxern //------------------------------// “I...don't understand,” the Snow Queen said softly. “What do you mean...destroy the Bastille?” “Exactly as it sounds.” He managed to sit up into a correct position, but he still felt weak. “I need some sort of world changing, cataclysmic event. He's always present at those. And it's not like the Bastille is a good thing.” “B-but...how?” She was at a loss for words. “Well, I mean, I already know how it crashed in the first place. I've done a lot of research on it and studied it. I was the reason the managed to build its copy, The False God.” “They...they built a second?” “Well, not for a very long time. Though, I guess I have no idea when this is in correlation to my time so I wouldn't be able to give an accurate approximation.” It felt like his mind had just shifted into maximum gear. “But...how?” she repeated. “Well...I just need to find it, get aboard it, and then crash it. Of course that's just the vague plan, but first step would be to find it...” She stared at him. “But...I don't understand...that would be...impossible.” “Exactly!” He exclaims, standing up, his legs still a bit wobbly. “It's the perfect thing. It's a cataclysmic event of preposterous proportions.” He started to pace back and forth. “I already know how it was destroyed...I just have to figure out how to match the appropriate event and location and the paradox engine should be able to fill all the gaps that I miss. Sure a lot of ponies are going to die, but they're already supposed to die in the event anyways, so who cares? I'll finally be able to go home.” He turned his attention towards her. The smile that had been forming on his face slowly fell back into a neutral expression as he saw the look on her face. Fear. Suddenly he felt very small, to be looked at with such an expression...hurt. “You're going to leave?” she said softly. He took a few steps away from her. There was an urge to run, to hide from her. A need to get away from that gaze. This wasn't what he wanted. He didn't want this. His legs suddenly buckled and he fell to the ground. She didn't move, even when the tears came. He covered his face under his hooves, not wanting to see that expression anymore. “I wanna go home...” he sobbed. “I just wanna go home...I just want that one thing...and if I have to destroy everything to get it...I will.” This was a familiar feeling. Emotionally breaking. There was a moment of silence before he felt her pull him to her, embracing him and holding him tightly to her. “So young...and ready to fight the world...” she said, her voice still soft. “The world started it,” he says, wiping his face and trying to stop the tears. Trying to keep himself together. Several minutes passed as he pressed against her, enjoying the brief time of comfort. Did she remember him in the future? Is that why she wanted so much to do with him? Thoughts such as that crawled inside his skull as they sat in silence. “I wont stop you,” she said softly. “I don't think I could if I tried...” “I'd rather you didn't try,” he said rather flatly. A soft giggle escaped her as she gently stroked his mane. “So much of what you say...I simply don't understand. But it's probably for the better that I don't.” “I don't know if you'll even remember.” He sat up a bit, but she refused to let him go. “How could I not? You are my child...then and now.” He took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment. “I have to go,” he said eventually. If he stayed any longer he wasn't sure if he could actually bring himself to part from her. “I suppose you must...” she said as he grip loosened on him and he managed to slip away. “You're not going to say goodbye to anypony else?” He hesitated. “...No. It's best if I don't.” His legs were starting to feel better. “None of them should know me, anyways.” “Even Poplar?” “Especially Poplar.” He glanced in the direction of the other ponies who were out of sight before turning away. “Especially Poplar,” he repeated. “She might actually try to come with me.” He shook his head. She giggled a bit again. “She probably would. She's probably going to try and chase after you once she's learned that you left.” “Please don't let her.” He stretched his leg a bit, making sure that the leg wasn't having issues. “She's going to hate you for abandoning her.” “Good.” That had apparently caught her off guard. “Good?” she repeated softly. “Yes. Better for her to hate me than follow me off the edge of the map and get hurt.” He took a deep breath, trying to gather the strength to walk away. “Do you think she is not strong enough? You would be surprised-” “You're not going to convince me to take her with me. I know better than anypony how much of a death march I am undertaking is.” He sighed as he finally managed to start walking. “She's been through so much...” “I am not about to put her through more,” he snapped, stopping and doing his best to not glare back at her. “If she comes with me, she's going to become like me. Because that's the only way she's going to survive. The path I walk is my way forward, and is coated with more blood than I want to admit. And all that's ahead is more blood, and pain, and suffering. All just to be with the mare that I love, the one that I adore, and what few friends I have.” “I...just don't want you to be alone.” “I am alone,” he said as he looked back at her. “I am alone because whatever being that rules and controls this world decided to make me his errand bitch and rips from me every tiny ounce of happiness that I get.” “You shouldn't be alone,” she said rather firmly. Firm enough to actually cause Copper to hesitate. “She...shouldn't come with me.” “I'm not letting you go alone.” She sat up a bit straight, putting a hoof to her chest. “What kind of mother would let her child go off to uncertain death all by themself?” He hesitated again. His brain was trying to think of some sort of excuse, something to further dissuade taking Poplar along. “Fine,” he said after thinking it over a moment. “She has one chance, that's my condition. If she argues, or attempts to persuade me to not leave, I'm not taking her with me.” “Good. I shall go and get her.” She stood up and turned around. “You will stay here,” she added, almost glaring at him. He fidgeted a bit. “Uhm...okay.” He felt like a foal sitting and waiting for a punishment for not listening. Perhaps that was a good way to describe the situation? Though he didn't feel like he necessarily did anything wrong... He let out a heavy sigh as he sat down. As the minutes passed he sat there like a good little pony, trying to think through a plan. It was one thing to say that he was going to destroy the Bastille, but it was something else entirely to actually do it. First off, it was an immense structure. There was a reason it was called a floating city. There were hundreds, if not thousands of ponies living on it. Most, if not all, were going to be his enemy. He had to assume that every pony on there was against him in some facet or another, either by choice or some sort of stolkholm syndrome. Earth ponies in particular. They wouldn't want their way of life to come to an end. The ones in charge are always the most against change to the status quo. Yet he would have to uproot it all and literally kill hundreds and throw the world into chaos. And if his memory served him, it didn't fix anything. Nothing would be fixed for so much longer, it would just balance everything out. Thousands of years...maybe tens of thousands. He couldn't even fathom that much time. For a pony who was certain he wouldn't even live to fifty...that amount of time was too much to even thing about. His attention was suddenly drawn to the two ponies approaching him. Poplar looked concerned, but his mother was smiling as if nothing was wrong. “I'm leaving,” he said, which caused Poplar's concerned look turn to one of anger. “I'm going to destroy the Bastille and go home.” He was not about to sugar coat it at all. “Our Lady is fine with me going, but is concerned that I shouldn't go alone, even though that's how it should be.” “I'll go get my things,” Poplar said as she turned away and trotted back the way she came. The Snow Queen laughed. “You see? Even she believes you shouldn't go alone.” “You told her, didn't you?” “Mmm perhaps a bit.” He sighed. “She is fond of you. And I think that you two will take good care of each other.” He stared at her for a few seconds and then shook his head. “She's going to die.” “She is stronger than you think.” “Not enough. She may have been through a lot, but she has no way to-” he stopped as he caught her expression and let out a heavy sigh. “No way to aim it. I swore to Princess Celestia that I would never train someone to be like me, though it may have been made in anger and frustration, you are asking quite a lot of me.” “You are going to be her goal.” “You're sending her to her death. And if she doesn't die, she's going to be like me, and wish she was dead.” There was a brief moment of silence as she looked down at him. “She already wishes for that,” she said softly. “Since the moment her parents did that to her, she has wanted death.” “Betrayal will do that,” he said coldly. She blinked at him a few times, aghast at his lack of sympathy. “Surely you should be more understanding.” “Of what? Her parents shredded her wings. You may think it cold but it has nothing to do with me. She is a good child, bright and easily impressionable. She may have her trauma but she is still innocent.” She was frowning at him, and he was doing his best to not let it get to him. “I would not call a child who was capable of murdering her parents innocent.” He paused. He was about to say 'Good for her' but figured that may leave the wrong impression. “Innocent in comparison.” He sighed. “Well, since you're so intent on sending her with me, her body count is going to raise more than you probably think.” “And you think my hooves are so clean?” She leaned towards him. “There is no pony here who has not spilled blood.” Copper sat unimpressed. “I have murdered so many to save myself and those that they oppress. Dozens, maybe even hundreds of ponies have-” “I literally destroyed an entire dimension a few days ago,” he interrupted, staring at her. “You can keep trying to do some sort of weird horn measuring contest but I can assure you, mother, I have you beat.” There was a few seconds of silence before she laughed, which quite caught Copper off guard. “I can see why I became so fond of you. You just don't back down...do you?” He took a deep breath, calming himself down. “There are only two ponies that I could not go against, and I'm sorry mother but you are not one of them.” “And yet you are letting Poplar go along with you,” she sneered. “That's-” his words faltered, and he eventually simply sighed, looking away from her. “Maybe three...” he muttered. She moved forward and laid her chin onto his head, smiling as she did. “That's right. You should listen to your mother... Now, you make sure to raise her up right, and kill lots of those bastards that think their better than us, alright?” “All right...” Perhaps his mother was always broken, just like him? It took a few minutes before Poplar returned, coming upon the scene of Copper simply enjoying the company of his mother. “Ready.” Copper looked at her around the Snow Queen, looking at the small saddlebag that she had. “All right. Goodbye, mother.” She pulled away and smiled down at him. “Farewell, my child.” She placed a gentle kiss upon his forehead before stepping away. “Be sure to watch out for him,” she said to Poplar as she passed. He watched her go until he couldn't see her anymore amongst the trees. His attention then turned to Poplar. “So, how much did she tell you?” He stood up, turning away from the group and began walking. Poplar was quick to follow. “Not much. She just said that you were leaving, and wanted me to go with you...and a few things I didn't understand...” She paused, “But destroying the Bastille...can it even be done?” “It can, because it has been done.” He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “In for a bit...” he muttered. “I have seen it's wreckage. Traveled it's ruined halls.” “You're gonna have to give me a better explanation than that, cus I don't get what you're saying at all.” “All right. Let's try taking a few steps back and explain it better.” He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. She was about the same height as him. “When you look at me, what do you see?” Her brow furrowed as she looked at him. “A...uhm...young pegasus?” “More specifically?” “A gray-ish blue pegasus foal, light brown mane, a couple years younger than me? With a weird metal leg, and a scar across the muzzle?” She seemed to not understand what he was getting at. “Our Lady said that there was much more to you than you looked, but I don't understand.” “Of course you wouldn't. I wouldn't expect you to. The ability to gauge strength and skill by a stance and look takes years.” He took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. “My name is Copper Feather, though that means nothing in this era, when I am from my name is known fairly well outside of the land that will be Equestria.” He could already see the confusion on his face. “Although I look like a foal, I am actually in my mid-twenties. Though some would say I'm in my thirties, I honestly don't know.” “You've lost me.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “I'm not from here. I'm not from this time.” “Time...so you are...from the future?” “Basically.” She didn't look convinced. “It's how I know so much, such as the reason for the different types of ponies, or how I know our Lady. And how I know how to destroy the Bastille.” There was a moment of pause as the two of them walked. “Are you sure it can be done?” “I have seen what's left of it from when I come from.” I bet the Doctor is good at explaining this to people... “That's all...really hard to believe.” He sighed a bit, looking at the trees around them. “You asked me how you weren't able to push me over. It's about having a strong foundation and a strong stance. But because I have regressed to such a young age I am lacking quite a bit of foundation. I thankfully have something to build on, but if it had been earlier I would have had to start over from scratch. Starting tomorrow I am going to begin my Regimen again.” There was a heavy disdain in his voice. He was not looking forward to subjecting himself to all of that once again. She let the silence go for a bit, soaking in all the information that had just been shoved onto her. “What exactly is your regimen?” “It involves toughening the body, increasing stamina, numbing pain responses and increasing reaction time. It also had a lot of mental exercises but I don't need those, since it's only my physical body has regressed.” “That...sounds pretty rough.” “It is. When I first started, I thought I was going to die.” He looked at her. “And while I don't expect you to do all of it, if you don't keep up, you're going to be left behind.” She stared at him. “Well, as you said earlier, in for a bit?” Copper couldn't help but laugh. “Yes. I swore to never train anypony to be like me, but...well, let's see if it's even possible.” ~ “It's a bit simple overall, but it's not going to be pleasant,” Copper said, standing at the top of a hill. “We walk for one hour, run for an hour, walk for one, run for another, walk for two, run for another hour, then walk for the rest of the day. Any hill you come to, you simply throw yourself down it. Hit any branches you come across with your wings. And we will slowly ramp up how much running we do, and other difficulties as time passes.” “And...how long do we do all that?” Poplar said, already out of breath from climbing up the hill. “A few years. We eat and drink when walking, just any grass or leaves or stream that you can snag on the way. Don't drink from any standing water, no matter how thirsty you are.” “So we just go till we...break?” “Yes. Finally, we alternate days. So we will rest every other day. One day of Regimen, one day of rest.” “And you...did this?” “For five years, yes. The me right now has about...barely a year, I think.” He flexes his wing a bit. “The off days are when I would read and study. But we can skip a lot of that...the vast majority of it will not be useful to you.” “That...I don't know if I can handle all that...” “Oh it gets worse. After a year, we'll start throwing in combat practice. Normally I would be starting that around now...I may have already started it...I'm really not sure exactly to when my body reverted.” “Makes my head hurt...” “You're head isn't going to be the part that hurts. You're going to be battered, bruised, tired and miserable for the next few years.” He straightened up a bit. “And so will I.” “...Why would you put yourself through all that?” He sighed, feeling himself deflate a bit. “Why indeed.” He slowed a bit. “Because I needed to be something impossible for the one I adore.” “The pony you...adored?” She paused. “Our Lady?” He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “No. Although I love our Lady...and I may do what I have done for her, and in a way I suppose I am... No, it is for somepony who truly shines like the sun. I wonder when she will come into existence...” “And is she's the one you're trying to get back to?” “One of them. I...” he stared blankly for a few seconds into the distance before he chuckled, shaking his head. “The pony I love, my...well she is my fiance, I think?” His brow furrowed slightly. “She is going to be very, very upset when I get back...” “...You really don't seem like the type to get married,” Poplar said as she looked at him. He stopped walking, blinking a few times. “That's...very rude,” he said as he looked over at her. She had a bit of a smirk on her face. She giggled. “Not my fault you're so unlikable.” “Wow. So rude,” he said with a bit of a chuckle. “Yet you're so desperate to follow me.” “It is a request from our Lady, of course I have to go.” “Well you're very much going to regret it,” he gestured to the hill with a bit of a smirk on his face. “Let's begin.” “W-wait. We're starting now?” She looked down the hill. It wasn't terribly steep, but it did go for quite a long ways down. “Of course. The sooner we begin, the sooner we finish.” With that, he lept forward, and allowed himself to tumble down the hill. No matter how many times he had done this, he still hated it. ~ Poplar had lost all recognition of time. It was nothing but days of running, tumbling, branches, resting, more running. There was a glaze over her eyes, the kind where nothing matters anymore and one has given up on thinking. Today she had some brain power as her gaze slowly wandered over to Copper, who was sitting a few hooves away, chewing on grass much like she was. But he looked fine? She had so many cuts and bruises from head to hoof, but he just looked a bit dirty, like he had been rolling down hills much like her. Yet he had nowhere near as many scratches as she did. She had expected it to be difficult. Expected it to be brutal. Expected it to be horrible. But it was beyond anything she had expected. They never talked during training days, they couldn't. But even when they had time on their rest days, she was too worn out to talk. Everything hurt. What she could comprehend as the first few months were the worst. And he had told her he was taking it easy on her. How was that even possible? At the moment she was trying to decide if she hated Copper, or her Lady more. At least Copper had warned her how painfully difficult it would be if she went with him. He had tried to dissuade her from going, but she refused to listen. Yet she didn't even have the energy to regret her decision. He did this for five years? Copper looked over at Poplar, who appeared to be attempting to glare at him. He had definitely misjudged how long ago he had started his training. He wasn't even sure if he had started his training at all, but it had served to at least allow Poplar to keep up. Though it also meant that it was going to take longer. To make matters worse, there had been no sign of the Bastille, or any other sign of ponies for that matter. He wondered how far the group of ponies had traveled. “Combat,” he said slowly. He decided that it was about time, as it had been a little over a year now. “What?” Poplar's consciousness returned from whatever far corner it had been hiding itself in. “We're going to start to teach you how to fight.” “Fight...” Apparently it had become difficult for her to form more than one word sentences. “Yes, fight. Tomorrow is a rest day, so we are going to begin tonight.” “Rest.” “No. Get up.” “No.” He sighed softly as he got up, stretching. “If you don't get up, you're going to regret it.” It took her a moment before she managed to get up. She felt so tired and sore. “All right. Now, try and hit me.” She stared blankly at him. “It's fine, you wont be able to hit me, let alone hurt me.” She shifted towards him, raised her hoof, and missed entirely, hitting the ground as she lost her balance. He stared at her. “All right.” He sat back down. Maybe he had been impatient, and was pushing too hard. “Then we will rest.” She made a soft whimpering sound, before taking a bite of some grass she had fallen next to. For Copper, this was hardly anything. Of course he was tired, but he was used to that. He was in pain, but he was used to that. He was hungry, but he was used to that. Poplar was not. His eyes wandered over the scars on her back; that was probably the most painful thing Poplar had ever gone through, but Copper's Regimen was probably close to it. The entire process was meant to be brutal, and simply get worse as time went on. Then there was the fact he hadn't been able to go as rough as he had hoped, because there's no one to heal his body. Several delays had come up as well, once when Poplar had broken a wing hitting a particularly hard branch. Or when she had twisted an ankle. Or when she had hit a rock on her way down a hill that had left a rather nasty cut on her shoulder. Or when she had caught a cold after they had been running through the rain all day. Copper had suffered a few fractures himself, but she had had it rougher as far as the abuse of their bodies. “I wonder if I should feel bad putting a young mare through this,” he mumbled, watching her slowly chew grass. “Though I guess is it even something that any foal should go through? To be honest I never thought about it.” Her eyes stared vaguely in his direction. “I wonder if I had that look, too,” he says, laying down. Her eyes tried to follow him. “A shame that you don't have someone better to look at. It was the Princess who helped drive me forward. Just the sight of her gave me the strength to keep going.” He sighed softly, closing his eyes. “The amount that I kept hidden from her...I wonder how much of it she was truly unaware of?” “Is she beautiful?” “Mmm...incomprehensibly so. Like watching the sunrise...or a sunset...but more.” He took in a slow breath. “Want to see her...” she said softly. “Maybe...” It had been something that had been on his mind. If she actually did his Regimen, he couldn't leave her here. “Don't want to be here...” Her voice wavered. His eyes opened and he watched as she cried. “Everything is so much...better where you're from,” she sobbed softly. He had talked quite a lot with her of his era. It had been his attempt to distract the both of them with stories of things that are better. It was so hard to watch a pony cry. It was always something he struggled with internally, though he never let it show. “All right. I doubt I could leave you here.” He closed his eyes, not wanting to see her cry. Copper waited until he could no longer hear her sobbing before he opened his eyes again, only to find that it appeared that she had fallen asleep. He had only almost fallen asleep himself before he heard her again. “Your mare?” It caught him off guard a bit to hear her referred to as his mare, he had not ever really thought about it in that manner. “She is indescribable.” One of her eyes cracked open to look at him. “You're bad at that.” “I am. Romantic things were not something I ever studied. And she would agree.” He smiled a bit. “But the feeling I get whenever I look at her...I struggle to keep my thoughts straight. I want to do everything I can just to make her happy...I feel desperate for her approval.” “Obsessed,” she says with a bit of a smile. “Oh I am,” he says with a bit of a chuckle. “The things I have done, and what more I am going to do just to get back to her...obsessed doesn't feel like strong enough of a word.”