//------------------------------// // 13~Recompense // Story: The Emperor Preserves // by Centurion Pike-Wall //------------------------------// Anton stood alone by the barn, merely watching the guests of the Apple family. Judging by the tattoos they bore, as well as the few names he could discern from the well of conversations, he assumed that most of them bore some form of relation to the deceased. He supposed it was fair that would be the case, but he had never seen so many related to another family, especially in one place. He munched silently on one of the fritters that had been laid out on the table across the yard. Well, that wasn't accurate, given the plate piled high with at least half a dozen of them. He had eaten some of the ones gifted to him by Applejack and Big Macintosh a few days ago, and been hooked. It was one of the best things he'd tasted, especially since he had enlisted in the Drop Troopers. Still, he ate alone. Most of the guests didn't really seem to notice him, as if he weren't there. Those that did flashed one of two vastly different looks in his direction. One of them silent was gratitude, as if thanking him for his deed in saving Bright Mac and trying to save Buttercup. The other one, while not as common, was a mild fear. Good, he idly thought, taking another bite. They recognize, at least somewhat, that I am their doom. At least, SHOULD be their doom. He winced, subconsciously flicking an ear. They had been kind to him, and even if it was just out of gratitude, it was still kindness. It was far more than he had ever expected from a Xenos; from any enemy of the Emperor. Maybe... maybe they weren't so bad? As soon as the thought came to him, he jerked up straight. To his surprise, the older mare he remembered as Granny Smith was standing in front of him, a look between startled and confused on her face. "Oh, ah'm sorry. Didn't mean ta startle ya." "Uh... No, no. You didn't", Anton said. "I just... came to a realization." "'Bout what?", she asked. Anton stumbled on his words, before saying, "Nothing you need concern yourself with." "Ya sure? Ah wouldn't want ya ta be worried 'bout nothin', considerin'...", she said, pausing and drawing in a deep breath. "Well, considerin' what ya did fer us." "I assure you, it's nothing relevant to you", Anton said. "Well, alright then", she said, before looking at the ground. "Ah just... Well, ah never got the chance ta really thank ya mahself. 'Bout what ya did fer my son and granddaughter. What ya tried to do wit' mah daughter-in-law as well." "T-thank you", Anton said wearily, the recent thought still leaving him unnerved. He noticed her cock her head, probably confused about his tone of voice. "My apologies, it's just... it's been a while since I've had any proper interaction with another h-With another being." "Really?", she asked. "Ya've been one yer own?" "A few months now, yes", Anton said. She asked, "Wah? Don't ya have parents?" Anton sucked in a breath, thinking his words through. She was doubtless simply trying to be polite, but he couldn't really shake the feeling this was some form of interrogation. He supposed that was here he would've normally only been talking with a Xeno, but that was beside the point. "I-I haven't seen my parents in at least a year now. By now, I've accepted I probably never will." "Oh", Granny Smith said. "Ah'm sorry." "It's fine. I've made my peace with it", Anton said. He stood, flicking his head down at the plate of fritters. "Thank you for the food and the hospitality. But, I feel I should be going." "Ya sure", Granny Smith asked. "Day's still young, and you ain't finished with yer fritters yet." Anton nodded. "I am sure. I have... things I need to do." "Alrighty then", Granny said. "Ah hope this ain't the last we'll see 'a ya." Anton didn't say anything. He nodded, stepping around her and the other guests on his way to the path off of the property. He stepped out onto the road, idly adjusting his field cap as he walked ahead. After about five minutes of walking, he looked back and judged that he was far enough away to not attract any major attention from Sweet Apple Acres, if they could see him at all. Then, he broke into a dead sprint, racing back to the forest as fast as his cursed legs could carry him. +++++~+++++ He sat on the banks of the river near his entrenchments, staring at the water. He had removed everything save his trousers, letting the fur on most of his body breathe in the cool air around him. He sighed, looking up from the rushing water and to the item next to him: a long rod of thick stem, covered in chipped-off thorns. He had found it on his way back to the entrenchments, growing near the river. He didn't know what kind of plant it was, but he frankly didn't care. He had cut off the top of the plant and ripped it out of the base, taking it with him back to the river. After a few hours, he had brought it with him back to the river, shaving off the tips of the thorns and soaking it in the river for at least ten minutes, hoping to let any potential poison inside of it leak out. He examined the thick length of the stem, still dripping with water. He turned it over in his aura, examining the blunted tips. He rested it against the rock he was sitting on, before resting it against his back. The hairs on his back stood up from the cold, before he lifted it up. He slammed it down with as much force as he could. He hissed, nearly biting his tongue as the blunted spikes partially tore through the skin. A small amount of thick, hot blood leaked from the wound, coursing in and around the fur. He panted and groaned in pain, but rose it up again and slammed it down. More blood poured out, while he did bite his tongue with this strike. He grabbed a few clumps of grass, stuffing them in his mouth and biting down as hard as he could. He then lifted up the rod, striking his back again. He struck his back with the thorny rod another three times, leaving his back torn and bloody. He tossed the rod next to the rock next to him, before removing his trousers. He slipped into the river, letting the cool water wash over his self-inflicted wounds. Water ran red downriver of him, his wounds screaming due to the cold. After at least thirty minutes, he stepped out of the water, laying on the rock. He panted, his hooves slightly twitching. He stood up, his legs slightly shaking as he grabbed his trousers. He dropped them over his back, picking up the rod as well. He looked over his back, noting the small tears in the flesh. "H-holy pain. Recompense for my sins against you, my Emperor." He stumbled up the hill, taking one more look down at the river, while idly noting the mark on his back: He stumbled into the bunker, pulling a roll of bandages out. He wrapped them around the worst parts of his wounds as tight as he could, tying them off in a knot. He slipped on his jumpsuit, sliding into the hole he had dug out for a bed. He muttered to himself, "N-no more interacting w-with the Xenos. T-they're a disease..." He couldn't say anymore, however, as exhaustion, the cold, and lingering, sore pain lulled him into a deep sleep within minutes.