//------------------------------// // A Crafter's Dream Ch. 92: Who he was... // Story: A Crafter's Dream (Discontinued) // by ruthim345 //------------------------------// Now, without further ado, I present, “A Crafter’s Dream” ‘...ugh.’ Dash silently groaned as she slowly came around, only for her head to pound. She grit her teeth as she pressed a hoof to her head and groaned once more. “Ow. Buck headaches” She mumbled irritably. Letting out a silent groan, she managed to sit up. Rubber the side of her head, Dash took a quick look at her surroundings. She was in her living room, sitting on her couch. She blinked, confused. “...did I pass out again?” She muttered as she rubbed her chin, headache momentarily forgotten. “Dash?” Spoke a very familiar voice. The prismatic mare’s eyes shot open and turned towards where the voice had come from. There, much to her surprise, was Steve. The Crafter stood in the doorway to her kitchen, a half-empty bag of assumedly garbage in one hand. The front of his clothes was spattered with drops of water, and his jeans were covered in dirt and stains. “Steve?” Dash spoke, confused. “What are you doing here?” “That’s… a bit of a long story.” The Crafter replied, putting the bag of garbage down as he walked over to her. “How are you feeling?” Suddenly, Dash’s headache reared its ugly head, causing her to groan and press a hoof against her temple. “Ugh… I’ve got a headache the size of Canterlot, but besides that, I feel fine.” “Yeah, I figured.” Steve responded, reaching into his Inventory and withdrawing a sizable, metal bucket. “Here. Drink this.” Brow raised, Dash took the bucket and peered inside to see it was nearly filled to the brim with milk. The pegasus gave Steve a confused look, prompting the Crafter to explain. “Buckets of milk always make me feel better. Figured it would maybe work for you too.” “Steve, eating food makes your body heal wounds that would cripple normal ponies, buck, maybe even the Princesses.” “Granted.” Steve conceded. “Still, what’s the worst that could happen?” Dash, after a moment, shrugged, then gulped down the bucket’s contents. After she was finished, she let out a sigh as she handed the bucket back to Steve, who stored it away in his Inventory. “How do you feel now?” The Crafter inquired. Dash wiped her mouth clean of the white liquid. “I…” She hesitated for a moment when she realized that, much to her shock, the headache she’d been suffering with for the past couple of minutes, had suddenly disappeared altogether. “I feel, better.” She spoke, sounding surprised. “My headache is gone, at least.” “See?” Steve spoke, grinning. “Told ya it would make you feel better.” “Yeah.” Dash replied, still pondering how drinking the milk had made her feel better. After a moment, she shook her head, resolving to ask Twilight about it later. “Thanks.” “No problem.” Steve replied as he turned away, presumably to go back to her kitchen, where he’d come from. ‘Wait, I still don’t know why he’s here in the first place.’ Rainbow realized. “Anyways, while I’m glad for your help, what exactly are you doing here?” The Crafter stopped, let out a small sigh, then turned back around, his brow furrowed slightly. “Dash, what’s the last thing you remember before waking up?” “I… Why?” Dash asked, now more confused and a little worried. “Just, humor me.” Dash, after a moment, put a hoof to her chin in thought. “I, remember waking up this morning.” “Yeah?” “I had breakfast, brushed my teeth, all that jazz. Picked up the mail from my porch. I wanted to go back into town for some things, but, well…” She gestured to her still bandaged wing, to which Steve nodded. “Got it. Continue.” “Well, I passed the time, can’t remember what exactly I did. And then…” She stopped. Memories of what had happened earlier in the day sprung to the forefront of Dash’s mind. She remembered the bitter taste of alcohol in her mouth, the haze that had overtaken her mind, blurring her memories of what happened. She remembered why- Dash shook her head to clear her thoughts. “Sorry, just got lost in thought. To be honest, I don’t remember what happened afterwards. It’s all kinda hazy.” Steve gave a small sigh as he sat down on a nearby couch. “Yeah, I figured. Well, to answer your question, I came here to talk to you after Derpy helped me realize why you were avoiding me.” Dash’s eyes widened. “I… I wasn’t, I mean, I wasn’t trying to, avoid…” She trailed off when she saw the look of disbelief on his face. “Yes you were Dash. I don’t blame you, all things considered, but you were still trying to avoid me.” Dash let her face fall. “You… You’re right. I was trying to avoid you.” She turned her gaze upwards to meet Steve’s again. “But it wasn’t your fault!” She spoke hurriedly. She took a breath, then looked away. “It was mine.” Steve quirked a brow. “What?” Dash let out a sigh. “I…” She stopped. “I keep forgetting who you are.” Steve’s brows furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?” “Steve, I keep forgetting who you are. You’re not some stallion, you’re not even a pony. You’re a guy who’s been through so much. You’ve fought in wars, lost friends and allies. You lost the…” She hesitated, but pushed past the stab of pain in her chest. “Love of your life. And when you came here, you were hurt by many ponies, me included. But despite this, you managed to not only fight every single one of them off, but you managed to make peace and even become friends with ponies like me, Derpy and Dinky.” A small smile appeared on Dash’s face. “You took on Herobrine, a literal god, and managed to beat him. You’re almost the picture perfect definition of a superhero. Strong, tough, forgiving, kind.” She sighed as the smile on her face faded.. “And yet, despite me knowing all of this, when I saw you falling, I just, it’s as if all of that information went right out the window. In that moment, all I thought was about you-” She stopped when Steve put a hand on her shoulder. She looked up to see the Crafter looking at her with an expression of understanding. “I know.” He murmured, just loud enough for her to hear. “And I’m sorry.” ‘He’s… sorry?’ Dash thought. She shook her head. “No, Steve, you shouldn’t be the one to apologize. I-” “You’re wrong.” Steve softly interrupted. “I do have something to apologize for. I shouldn’t have put you through what I did.” He sighed. “I suppose, even after all this time, I don’t remember who I am either.” ‘What?’ Dash thought. “What?” Her voice echoed her thoughts. The Crafter chuckled. “Yeah, I suppose that’s a bit confusing, right?” At her slow nod, he elaborated. “Dash, do you know what I did after, well, after I finally defeated Herobrine? Back in my world?” Dash thought for a moment, then shook her head. “Well, the long and short of it was that even though my race was dead, there were still people for me to help?” “Really? Who?” “My creator, Notch, had first created a race of peaceable, hard-working people, called the Testificates, although everyone just called them Villagers for short. These people would live in villages of varying sizes and any passing Crafter could stop for a night or two, and trade, eat, and rest. Though the trading bit was a little difficult, since Testificates and Crafter’s didn’t speak the same language. Regardless, while my race was gone, their kind was still alive and relatively well. So I spent most of my seven years alone wandering from village to village, fending off pillagers and doing what I could to help the Testificates. I eventually got into a rhythm of sorts, but that’s besides the point. The point is… that in all that time, I stopped caring about myself.” Dash flinched ever-so-slightly in shock. “What? Why?” Steve shrugged. “I suppose it was a combination of feeling lost, my incessant altruism, and the crushing reality of my status as the last of my kind. After a while, my own life just, I don’t know, stopped mattering to me. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t really want to die, but at the same time, I…” Steve thought for a moment. “Well, I guess at the same time I kind of did.” Looking at Dash, the Crafter saw the horrified expression the mare wore. He sighed. “Yeah, yeah, I know, but can ya blame me? After everything that happened, I just wanted the pain to stop. I just wanted- look, my point is I still haven’t entirely worked myself out of the mindset that I don’t have anyone who cares about me, that if I die, then so what? I have friends now. You, Derpy, Dinky, Trench, Celestia. You guys care about me, and the last thing I want is to hurt you guys.” Steve sighed, rubbing the back of his head. “But at the same time, I’d much rather lose my own life than lose one of you guys. If I’m ever in a situation where it’s my life, or one of your guys’, then I would gladly give up my life if it meant just one of you would be okay. Because if I’m being honest, I don’t want to lose another friend. I’d rather die than lose another friend. Mostly because I care about you all. But also because…” Steve hesitated, then looked down. “I’m not sure I could take losing one of you.” Dash stared at the Crafter, who’s gaze was focused entirely on her floor. After a moment, she slowly scooted towards Steve. Then, when she was right beside him, she wrapped her hooves around him. She heard a small, almost inaudible gasp and felt Steve tense slightly as she did so, but eventually, he relaxed and returned the hug. “Thanks.” He whispered after a moment. She smiled. “No problem Steve.” * * * * * They sat like that for a while, arms/hooves wrapped around each other until Steve finally decided that they’d hugged for a rather long time, and he pulled away. “Sorry about that.” He muttered, scooting away. “I usually don’t hug people that long.” “Oh no, it’s fine.” Dash reassured with a chuckle. Steve mentally face-palmed. ‘Of course she’s fine with it, you complete idiot.’ He chided himself. ‘She apparently has a big crush on you. Speaking of which…’ “Hey Dash?” Steve spoke. “Yeah?” The mare responded. “I was just wondering something. Do you, well, remember saying anything to me after I got here, if you remember me coming here at all?” Dash thought for a moment, then shook her head. “No, not really. I can kinda recall you showing up at some point, but it’s mostly just a blur.” She shook her head, then glanced back at Steve. “Why? Did I say something?” “Uh, no, not really. Well, nothing I didn’t already know.” Steve lied. Dash squinted at him in confusion. “What do you mean?” “I-” Steve began, but stopped when Onyx spoke up. ‘Steve, a familiar magic aura has locked onto our position. It is Princess Celestia.’ Steve shot to his feet, surprising Dash. “Steve? What’s-” Before the mare could finish, Steve felt a familiar tugging sensation in his gut. There was a bright flash of light, and when he could see again, Steve knew he was no longer at Dash’s home. He was in a rather simple wooden room, with a large, plain table, at which sat a few chairs. In the room with him was the familiar form of Celestia. The alicorn sat on the side of the table opposite him. The mare was smiling at him, though Steve saw her eyes, narrowed ever-so-slightly, and her fore-hooves, which were crossed on the table, were tensed up. Steve was immediately on guard. Something wasn’t right. “Celestia.” He spoke, cordial. The mare nodded. “Steve. Thank you for joining me.” “Not like I had much of a choice in the matter.” He responded. “Why am I here?” “Ah. Well, you see Steve, the answer to that is rather simple.” Celestia responded, leaning back ever-so-slightly. “I have many questions regarding an event that took place a few months ago. An event involving an unlawful arrest, a couple dozen guards, one strange, bipedal being, and a mare, named Derpy Hooves.” Steve’s eyes widened in recognition. “Oh. That. Well, that’s a bit of a long story, but as I’m sure you know most of it, I’ll skip the unimportant bits. Though, if I may ask, this was months ago. What brought this up now?” “Because I know it was Trench.” ‘...Fuck.’ “I know it was him that did that to Miss Hooves, Steve, but I still don’t know the full picture. Only you do.” The alicorn leaned forward, her head hanging slightly as she let out a tired sigh. For a moment, her facade dropped, and Steve could see that she was tired, and very tense. Her once flawless magical mane was a little droopy, and slightly unkempt. Her wings fluttered slightly every-so-often. Her posture was slack. “While I do not know you as well as I’d like, I can tell you have a strong sense of justice. Of right and wrong. And I know that if you let Trench go unpunished this long, there must be a reason. So please, Steve. Tell me why Trench shouldn’t be imprisoned for his crimes right now.” Steve stared at her for a moment, before letting out a sigh. “....Alright. I suppose, of all people you should know what happened that night. But please, let me get to the end before you ask any questions because you’ll have some. I know you'll have some because I still do myself, if I’m being honest.” “Alright.” Celestia agreed. With a nod of affirmation, Steve took a breath, then began his tale.