Tincture stirred awake with a small whine, her tail tucked instinctively between her legs. She slowly stood up. She walked out into the front room, rubbing her eyes; they felt wet. Had she been crying again? She didn't remember having any bad dreams. She looked at Hazy, who was asleep on the couch, and smiled gently. Perhaps she just needed some fresh air. The unicorn carefully paced to the door, opening it and stepping out, closing it gently behind her. It was a calm night; not quite a full moon, but still bright regardless. A gentle, cold breeze rolled through the field. Tincture laid down on the grass, and took a deep breath of the cool, fresh air.
Tincture's ears twitched as she thought she heard a strange voice.
"Odd hour for a stroll, isn't it?" The voice asked.
Tincture shook her head slightly. "I'm not really strolling, just taking in some fresh air," She reasoned, before pausing and looking around, "Wait a minute…"
"Ah, good. I was worried you were going to ignore the word on the wind like most of these folks do," The voice replied gently, "I'm not here to judge."
Tincture's eyes darted around nervously, "W-who…?" She stammered. Her breathing and heart rate quickened. It reminded her of the way Miasma's voice had crept into her mind to demand things of her.
"Easy, easy. I couldn't hurt you even if I tried. Well, unless you're one of those ponies who sneezes too hard," The voice assured.
"Th-then why are you…" Tincture's eyes became wet with tears, "Wh-why are you in my mind?" She questioned, pinning herself to the ground.
"Woah, woah, okay. Deep breaths. I'm just here to talk. You're not like the other ponies around here," The voice attempted to reason.
Tincture remained pinned to the ground, sniffling softly, "Wh-what are you…?" She stammers, her mind lagging behind the voice's reassurance.
"Listen. I'm the word on the wind. I'm not evil, nor even physical. I'm just a force of nature who gets a little lonely every now and again," The voice states, "I don't know what happened to you, but I promise you that you're not in any danger; or trouble, even."
Tincture took a few moments to calm down, "I'm- I'm sorry. You just remind me of… Someone much less passive," She attempts, looking up a bit.
"Ohhh. I'm sorry. If it makes you feel better, you're not the worst reaction I've ever gotten. One time, I started talking to this drunk mare, and she just started WAILING like a foal," The voice comments, laughing a bit.
Tincture smiled awkwardly, "Heh… I suppose it does make me feel a bit better," She admits, looking to the side, wiping her eyes.
"There we go. That's better, isn't it? Just a nice chat with the wind," The voice says.
Tincture blinked, "The wind?" She asks.
"Yup. The wind. Y'know, the word on the wind; gossip and stuff," The voice explains.
Tincture's head tilted her head, "So you're…" She trailed off, trying to process this.
"A 'force of nature' is the correct term. I travel around, but this valley's my favourite place. It's special, you know," The voice explains.
Tincture pauses for a moment, "How is it special?" She asks hesitantly.
"There's magic in the land, here; well, there's magic everywhere, but there's… More magic here. Weird magic," The voice explains.
Tincture thought for a moment. The ponies here did have slightly different magics than she had studied, so it wasn't the most asinine thought. But, one thought came to her. "Is that why there's no unicorns?" She asks.
"I dunno, maybe. You're the first one who's stuck around for long enough for me to ask. So, why're you here?" The voice asked.
"Well… I have friends here. The only friends I've ever had. They make me feel welcome, so…" She looks down a bit, "I don't want to leave."
"Yeah, I've heard a bit about you guys. Fun bunch, you are. You fell in with a good crowd," The voice reassures.
Tincture smiles a little, "That doesn't begin to describe it," She dismisses, "I've only been here a month, maybe, but they've done so much to make me feel like I belong. A part of me wishes I'd had a little more time to prepare before she found me… Maybe I could've had the right things to say," She expressed.
"She?" The voice asks.
Tincture sighed softly, her smile turning into a frown, "My old teacher… Miasma," She clarifies, "The one you reminded me of at first."
"Ahhh… Miasma, wind, I can see the resemblance. I don't know what she did to you that elicits that kind of reaction, but you're safe out here. This town doesn't get a lot of action," The voice replies.
Tincture sighs softly. "I know… I'm still adjusting to how peaceful everything is," She expresses, standing up, "Do you mind if I take a walk?"
The voice laughs a bit, "So long as you don't leave the valley, I wouldn't even notice you moved," It replied simply.
Tincture would walk through the valley. The cool night was starting to creep into her hooves, but she hardly minded. It was a very relaxing feeling… The unicorn enjoyed cozy warmth as much as the next pony, but something about the cold refreshed and eased her body.
"Y'know… All the other ponies here wind up tapping into the energy around here," The voice says, "I can only imagine you'd be able to."
Tincture blinked, "I mean… Even if I could, what would happen? I'm already more of a conjurer than a spellcaster…" She expresses.
"Fortune favours the bold, my monohorned friend. You just need to find your locus," The voice expresses.
Tincture shivers a little, "I'm, hah… Not exactly bold," She expresses, "But I guess it only makes sense for me to embrace this place if I want to live here," She expresses.
"That's the spirit. Let's find you a nice, comfy spot to sit and focus," The voice encourages.
Tincture would wander for a while, before finding an oxbow in the nearby mountain creek, settling herself not too far from the babbling water. "Alright… This will do," She says gently.
"Great! You just need to focus, I guess. Close your eyes, breathe deeply, and remember: No one's here to judge you. Let your magic run free," The voice said.
Tincture closed her eyes and laid her head on the riverbank. She took a long minute just to think about everything.
She remembered how terrified she was, living under Miasma. She remembered every powerless day, how she longed for agency… And how she did her best to manifest that agency. Her little acts of rebellion: ration potions and an unhealthy obsession with the stimulants her teacher repeatedly denied her. It was all to "toughen Tincture's will", of course. Starvation, fatigue. Had she become tougher because of it? How could she ever compare? Perhaps this was a remnant of Miasma's control; the self-doubt that drove Tincture mad.
Her already shut eyes squeezed tightly, as if she were trying to crush something between her eyelids. Tears did not come forth; this was a calm time. These things hurt to think about, but emotions did not run high as they often had. She felt her front legs twitch. A sudden rush of cold. Her eyes shot open, and she found herself staring at the slightly frothy, frigid water. Where she had once been meters from the bank, now her front hooves were dipped up to the ankle in the cold water.
Tincture pulled back, wiping her front hooves on her mane.
"I just wish… I just wish I could be in that position," She murmurs, "To have a position of influence over someone; to guide them down the right path. To show them how I cherished them," She says, eyes closing again.
"You long to give others the love you were never given," The voice observes, "But then again, you can't teach what you never learned."
Tincture's eyes welled up with tears, "No, no, that's not true," She says, sniffling, "Bottle, Angel, Hazy, the others… Th-they've taught me these things. They've sh-shown me love that-" Her voice caught in her throat, "I've learned more about love in a month than Miasma ever taught me."
"But how can you be sure it's enough? Here you are, sobbing on a riverbank, nearly diving into freezing cold water, instead of sitting at home, snug in your bed, surrounded by friends," The voice reminds.
"I just need space. That's healthy, isn't it?" Tincture asks, whimpering as tears stream from her cheeks.
"Space is healthy. Receding and running away from those who want to help you isn't," The voice states, "You need to talk to somepony. Not just a voice like me. You need a physical someone to open up to; someone who can return your gaze as you bawl your eyes out. Someone who can help you stand on your own four hooves, even if you need some help getting up to that point."
Tincture's eyes shot open, and she gasped for air, "You're-" She choked on her own breath, coughing, nearly dipping her snout in the river, "You're just a voice. How do you know what a full pony like me needs?" She asks, voice a mix of distress, panic, and anger.
"Because I hear things. I listen to others, and I speak when the time is right. I can't control you any more than any other pony in this town can; all I can do is tell you my experiences," The voice explains.
Tincture took a long moment to catch her breath, wiping her eyes, "I just… I want to make somepony's life better. Bottle and Angel and Haze always tell me I do, but they're always so gentle and kind; I need a way to see a-" Her voice caught again, and she coughed more, "I need a quantifiable sign I'm better than her, and all she represented!" She cries.
"Hey. Take a breath. She doesn't define you any more. You do. And right now, you're in this cozy valley, screaming at the wind to make yourself feel better as you try to think of what you might do with all the latent magic that's just out of your reach," The voice says.
Tincture stopped. She gasped for breath, her lungs struggling to fill with air. She felt as if some immense weight had been placed on her back.
Tincture realized what she wanted. As her breath finally came back to her, she closed her eyes.
"I want to be her. I want to see before me, myself. I want to nurture myself. I want to help myself," Tincture began, her horn igniting, shining on the water, "I want to show her, the world, and myself, that I am better than her. That, even with my problems, I could help someone through theirs," Tincture says, her head bowing low. She didn't notice the tip of her nose hitting the water. The cold meant nothing to her; she felt as though she had spoken a chant.
She paused as she heard a voice, "What's wrong?" It asked. This was not the otherworldly voice of the wind. No; this was a younger, shriller voice. Not quite that of a filly; but one younger than Tincture herself.
Tincture looked up, freezing as she saw the pony on the other riverbank.
The pony across from her was a moderately-sized pony; just barely taller than Angel, with a much chubbier build. They were an earth pony, with warm scarlet fur and blonde mane and tail. Their eyes were a soft, amethyst hue, radiating the same warmth as the rest of their body.
"A-ah, nothing…" Tincture stammers gently, "Just thinking aloud about some things."
The red pony nodded, "If you wouldn't mind… Could you help me cross the river?" They asked.
Tincture blinked. What an innocuous question… How long had this pony been waiting to ask it?
Tincture nodded slowly. "If you take a running jump, I will help you over the river," She says gently.
The red pony's ears flattened. "J-jump? But it's so far," They express.
Tincture hesitated. "Just trust me," She said, voice a bit raised.
The red pony shrank away slightly.
Tincture paused. That was a mistake. That was how Miasma would have goaded her into jumping; Tincture was different. She was better.
She sighed gently, "I don't have the strength to float you all the way across," She explains, voice back to its normal, gentle volume, "But, if you jump, I can catch you," She promises.
The red pony looked at her, "You can?" She asked.
Tincture nodded, "Try doing a little hop in place," She encouraged, standing up and giving the other pony a small smile.
The red pony hopped in place. Tincture's horn illuminated, and the red pony squeaked as she was caught in a veil of pink magic, her descent slowed.
"See? I caught you," Tincture says.
The red pony nodded, and backed up a bit, "O-okay… I'll jump," They stammered.
Tincture stood braced. "I will catch you," She promises.
The red pony charged at the river bank, managing to leap at the last second.
Tincture's horn illuminated again, seizing the red pony as she leapt, helping her into the air and across the babbling creek. Her focus was broken, however, as the red pony collided with her, knocking her onto her back. She groaned slightly, but froze as she saw the earth pony on top of her.
"I… I made it!" The earth pony says, looking at Tincture, "Thank you!"
Tincture smiled a little, "I told you I'd catch you," She reminded gently, rubbing the pony's head.
The other pony blinks, "I'm used to having to do things by myself…" They admit, looking away a bit, ears drooping.
Tincture winced slightly. Such a sentiment was almost too familiar. "What are you doing out here all by yourself, anyways?" Tincture asked gently.
"I… Don't remember. I woke up looking at the creek," The other pony expressed, "I saw you, and you felt familiar. As if I already knew you."
Tincture blinked. "Well… Do you have a place to stay?" She asked.
The other pony shook their head.
"Do you have a name?" Tincture asked.
"I… I think so? I used to have one," The other pony says, hoofed touched to their chin, "Murky... My name's Murky."
Tincture blinked, but nodded slowly. Murky had been Miasma's "affectionate" nickname for Tincture. "I… Alright. It's nice to meet you, Murky. I'm Tincture," She says gently.
Murky's eyes lit up, and she immediately leapt from Tincture's front, bowing lowly, "I-I'm sorry, master!" Murky yelped, "I didn't r-recognize you!"
Tincture slowly stood up. "Master?" She asks, blinking, "I'm not a master to anyone…"
Murky shook her head frantically, "No, you are my master! That's why you're so familiar!" The earth pony insists.
Tincture sighs gently, lifting Murky back to a standing position, "I don't know who you are, Murky," She expresses, giving the earth pony the warmest look she could manage, "But, I am not your master. I don't control you, okay?" She stays, trying to be firm but gentle, like how Bottle spoke to her when she was having an "episode".
Murky blinked, "B-but, if you're not master, then… What are you to me?" She asks.
Tincture thought for a long moment. "What's the last thing you remember, before seeing me on the riverbank?" She asked.
"I remember… Being wanted? It was like I was talking to someone. I think it was you," Murky attempts.
Tincture froze. Had she… No. That wasn't possible. Conjuration of dead things was one thing; it was simple. Just the movement of particles; bending, folding, twisting. But to bring another pony to being from magic alone was far beyond her capability. It would've taken the magic of the earth itself to-
Tincture's eyes went wide. "...Wind, are you still there?" She asked.
"Barely… What in the heck did you do?" The voice replied.
Murky seemed confused. "Who's wind?" She asked.
Tincture gently hushed Murky for a moment.
"I think I let my magic 'run free' like you told me to, and now it's run right back to me," Tincture attempted to explain.
"Run right back to you? What, did it sprout four hooves and…?" The voice trailed off, to a long pause, "I'm about to get my gales twisted right back in my mouth, aren't I?"
Tincture blinked, and looked back at Murky. "Creator" sounded too demanding of a title. And "Master" was even worse. As was "Teacher". Tincture gulped slightly.
"I believe the word we're looking for is… Mother," She explains. The word felt alien in her mouth; the vocal representation of a new stimulus she'd never experienced before.
"Mother? Like, you're my mom?" Murky asked.
Tincture could only nod, her mind flooded with a deluge of conflicting thoughts.
"Something like that," Tincture said.
Murky hugged her tightly, "Okay mom!" She says, surprisingly accepting of the title.
"A-ah… Hello, Murky," Tincture stammered gently, rubbing the earth pony's back. Tincture exhaled a bit. This just got a lot harder to explain.
After a few moments of making heads or tails of this in her head, Tincture looked down at Murky, "Well, my… Daughter, I should take you home before the others notice I'm gone," She explains awkwardly, gently helping Murky off of her.
The earth pony nodded, following Tincture as she began to walk.
Murky yawned. "Mmm… I'm tired, mom," She expresses gently, "I feel all weird now…"
Tincture almost laughed. This filly had no idea what "feeling weird" was like, especially with how she was feeling right now. But, she gently smiled at Murky. "Home's not too far, okay?" She says gently, "Can you be strong for me, like when you jumped over the river?" She asked gently.
Murky yawned again, "Okay, mom…" She replied gently.
Tincture noticed Murky's steps get slower and less co-ordinated.
"I'm sorry, mom… I'm really sleepy…" Murky says, lightly tumbling forward onto her belly, curling up in the grass.
Tincture gently plodded over to Murky. "We're almost home," She promises gently.
Murky looked up with tears in her eyes, "I-I can't walk, mom. I'm too tired," She whines.
Tincture practically flinched. There was fear in Murky's eyes. Fear that Tincture recognized from seeing her younger self in the mirror. Tincture gently laid down, "Climb on my back, Murky. I'll carry you home," She orders gently.
Murky hesitantly clambered onto Tincture's back. Tincture pushed herself up, sighing gently. "I'm sorry, Murky. I shouldn'tve pushed you when you were so tired," She expresses gently, continuing her walk.
Murky cuddled up tight to Tincture, "It's okay, mom… You just want me to be strong," She says gently.
Tincture winced. "Be strong" was a term Miasma had used… One that was often either preceded or followed by punishment, or at least overexertion. But perhaps, she could avoid that association with Murky.
"I'm very proud of you," Tincture said gently, looking at the house as it came into view.
Murky didn't reply. She'd already dozed off on Tincture's back, nuzzling into her gently.
Tincture smiled as she heard a soft snore from the filly on her back.
She crept to the front door, opening it carefully. Hazy was still asleep; as was everyone else. For this, Tincture was thankful. She closed the door gently behind her and slunk to her room, careful not to wake anyone; especially Murky.
Tincture looked at her bed and sighed gently. She gently drew back the covers, and magicked Murky from her back onto the bed, pulling the blankets over Murky gently.
Murky whimpered softly, squirming for something to hold onto. Tincture gently nuzzled Murky. "It's okay… You can sleep tight," She promised gently, feeling a warm smile creep across her face.
Murky settled down; she whined a little, but the soft coo into her ear seemed to relax her sleeping mind.
Tincture gently laid herself on the rug on the floor, and lowered her head; she angled herself so she could keep an eye on Murky.
She watched as Murky began to whine and squirm again. Tincture recognized this… Murky was cold.
Tincture didn't have any spare blankets, so she gently climbed up onto the bed, sliding in next to Murky and hugging her gently.
Murky snuggled close to Tincture, who smiled gently.
"I don't know why you occured to me now, little one, but I promise, I will show you a better foalhood than she showed me," She murmurs, holding Murky close. Tincture felt sleep rush to her quickly; an exhaustion beyond just staying up late.