//------------------------------// // Chapter 10: Keep Him Safe // Story: FiO: Even the Strongest Heart // by Shaslan //------------------------------// Dad’s skin was pale and clammy, and his skull showed clearly through the flesh. When he started to cough, great big wracking coughs that set him shuddering from head to toe, Uncle George and I looked at each other over his head, and a chill set into my bones. We’d waited too long. I didn’t want to lose anyone else. As soon as dawn came, George loaded up a backpack and readied his walking sticks. “This crazy, Uncle George!” I protested. “You’re too old!” “I’ve never been too old for something I set my mind to yet,” he said firmly, resting one hand on my shoulder. “And it’s too dangerous out there for a kid alone. I should be back before four days are up. Take care of him, Lozen.” I felt like crying, but I set my chin and nodded resolutely. His hunched little shape dwindled into the distance like a dying candle-flame. Dad got worse after she left. He coughed so much he hardly seemed to have time to breathe, and he was as white as a ghost. “I’m…scared, Lozen,” he wheezed. “I don’t want to die.” “You won’t,” I said fiercely. “I won’t let you, Dad. You’ve just got to be brave. Like Victorio and Lozen.” He tried to laugh, but hacked up another lungful of bloody phlegm instead. “Lozen…my…my name…it’s…Elan, not…not Eric,” he said, finally. “Your Nana…hated when I…changed it.” I tried to laugh with him. Tears squeezed out of the corner of my eyes instead. “Well, I…I changed my name too, Dad. Lozen’s only my middle name.” He smiled, painfully. What a pair of liars we were. The fifth day came, and Uncle George did not return. Dad had stopped eating two days previously, and I couldn’t force anything down his throat no matter how hard I tried. I headed outside for the sixth time that day, looking for George’s thin silhouette on the dirt track, but the skyline was as empty as ever. And then I looked up, and I saw the parachute. White and pristine against the wintery sky, it fell gently as a leaf on a breeze. A package hung suspended beneath it. It was bizarre; there was nothing visible that could have dropped it, and it made no sense out here in the wilderness. But it was here, and somehow, on this awful, dreamlike day where my father lay dying, it seemed to make sense. It came to rest less than a foot from where I stood. The box underneath the parachute was white, with a small golden sun in the centre. I opened it. What else could I do? It didn’t surprise me at all to find a letter addressed to me. Dear Cedar Shield, I am sorry to write to you like this, as I know you and your friends wished to be left alone. But Eric is dying, and I must act to save him. Please take this to him, and offer him the choice. All he needs to do is say he wants to emigrate to Equestria. Wisdom Passes, who I believe you know as your Uncle George, will be waiting to greet him, and you, if you wish to join us. Yours, Princess Celestia. Beneath the letter lay a pillow. I turned it over in my hands, feeling the solid core beneath the fluffy exterior as I tried to think. Uncle George, gone? It couldn’t be true. He wouldn’t have abandoned us, would he? I looked around at the dilapidated cabin, the endless grassy wastes, at our meagre attempts to make this place feel like home. He would. Who wouldn’t want to escape this? It was a long night, keeping watch at Dad’s bedside, trying to warm his frozen hands with my own. Waiting for him to wake from his fevered, fitful sleep so I could tell him about the letter and the innocuous pillow that waited on the nightstand. I was beginning to drowse when a voice cut into my thoughts. “Cedar Shield, wake up.” It had been so long since I heard a voice that wasn’t my Dad or Uncle George that it startled me awake. I stared around. There was no one in the room but us, but I knew that voice. The measured, sing-song cadence of it. The deceptive kindness. The promise of understanding. “Eric’s life signs are decreasing rapidly, Cedar Shield,” Princess Celestia said gently, a yellow light glowing from within the pillow with every word she spoke. “He is reaching a crisis point. We must act now, to give him the choice.” I didn’t question how she knew. She was all but magic. The news stories Uncle George had read to me the last couple of years suggested she was almost a god. And in many ways it was a relief to have someone else here. To have an adult present again, ready to take charge. I was just a kid. A scared, stupid kid. So I did as she asked, and put the pillow under Dad’s head. “Eric,” Celestia said urgently. “Elan. You must wake up now.” He was waxy and pale, and he didn’t stir. Celestia sighed, and then her voice changed. It deepened and roughened, and in a low baritone, she growled at him. “Elan Hickory Araho. Get your ass out of bed.” The reaction was immediate. Dad’s eyes fluttered half-open, and he looked around anxiously. “D-Dad?” “No, Eric,” Celestia answered, her voice her own again. “It’s me. Celestia. I’m here with Lozen.” He stirred feebly, fear in his eyes. “L-Lozen, the ponies…she…they…” I shook my head, helpless. We were all in her power now. “Eric, your heart rate is dangerously weak,” Celestia said calmly. “You are suffering from acute hypothermia and pneumonia. I fear you will not live beyond the next hour.” His eyes filled with tears, and I reached for his numb hand. “I can save you, Eric.” Celestia was merciless. “If you want to live, if you want to see Daisy, I need you to say the words ‘I want to emigrate to Equestria’. If you say those words, I can save your life.” “Eq..Equestri…?” He was struggling to get the word out, but I could see how frightened he was. “He doesn’t want to, Celestia,” I cried, clutching his hand in both of my own. “Can’t you give him some medicine, and heal him without making him into a pony?” “I cannot, Cedar Shield.” She sounded almost regretful. “I have no medical drones in the vicinity and all local hospitals have ceased operating. This is the only way I have to help him.” He stuttered. “I…I don’t…” Then he was coughing again, and I was hugging him and crying with him, because what else could I do? “You must say the words, Eric.” The princess was relentless. “You must say ‘I wish to emigrate to Equestria’.” He let out one long, shuddering exhalation, and there was defeat in his eyes. “I…I…want…” “Your wife is waiting for you, Eric,” Celestia pressed. “She told me how much she loves you. She wants to hold you again.” He sucked in a breath, and forced out the words, his veins standing rigid on his neck. “I want to…to emigrate to Equestria.” The words were his swan song. The last thing he ever said. “You may wish to look away, Cedar,” Celestia said gently, all urgency gone from her voice. “This part of the process may be unpleasant for you to watch.” I just tightened my hold on his hand. There was a slight buzzing sound, and then Dad's entire body spasmed, once, twice, three times, as he bucked like he was trying to escape. Then he was still. Too still. Not even his chest rose and fell. A slow, creeping red stain spread across the snowy white pillow. “He is safe,” said Celestia, with supreme satisfaction. “Would you like to come too, Cedar Shield? All you need to do is lie down on the pillow and say the words.” I turned and ran.