//------------------------------// // Chapter 5: A Feather Request // Story: Millennial Heartstrings // by The Apologetic Pony //------------------------------// Watching, from a rooftop, the blaring ambulance took him away, but my guilt did not go with it. How pathetic of me. The one promise he asked me to keep, I could not. He’d sure of my understanding now, wouldn't he; I was his bane! He, possessing qualities I so admired, betrayed by his silent vigil, in the most brutal of fashions. He, who was convinced the path he took was overseen, despite the overseer's denial, was right. He, prepared to accept the phoenix as a lifelong buddy; was likely to have been abruptly ended by the very same one. Amongst the haze, I hardly noticed, he was just another pony. I was the one passionately warping the heartstrings now, however much I vilified the way it played. My relentless brooding would have left like chips on the roof, if I couldn’t feel the presence of a creeping, hallucinogenic warmth, dripping off the tips, of talons, still. I can feel it now, with unpleasant effort. Apparently they were naive enough so as to be clueless to the reason for the gashes. It would take quite the morbid contraption to have it be self-harm, the kind that is not found in modern Equestria. Newspapers were dominated by the story easily enough; I hypothesised Celestia had somehow been keeping track of me, all this time. She’d be hugely shocked when she connected the dots. I don’t know why I thought this important. Nopony noticed the phoenix, perched on top of Dodge’s new hospital, very much out of place in the otherwise adventurous town. It lacked trees too; I missed them. The days were long and lonely, most half expected to see a body bag, appropriately labelled to exit. No animals to give a passing greeting to, for the most ponies would give cold, humourless stares if I tried. Not least a full month later, was Charlie reluctantly discharged under dubious circumstances, gashes now replaced with white, permanent, prominent, scars bored into his brown sides, while the magnifying glass on his rump remained unblemished. When he did exit, the sunlight had him quickly avert his gaze to the ground, away from me. A filly happened to be bouncing along, before she saw him right after he’d come out. When she did, she let out barely suppressed gasp and ran as fast as her little legs would carry her. It all happened before Charlie even had the chance to call after her. It took few moments later for the ex detective to deduce why she ran, as those eyes were still not fully adjusted to the brightness. And then, he rippled his torso muscles, distorting the marks, pretending he’d be able to shake them off. I couldn’t help but flinch at that. Blood, dripping, again. It was causing a fair amount of discomfort. ‘But not as much as he was in; not as much as I’d given him.’ I told myself, over, and over. In my long life I’d been through worse, thought guilt was apt in murder. I’d seen its exploits many times. But I wouldn’t allow myself to fall as its prey, I needed to do things, first. Remembering: it got more detrimental every time, only with this accursed mind. Tough times; they always were. Snapping myself out of the daymare, I found that he was walking in the direction of a general store, to pick up some much needed supplies before heading back into the wilderness, including a curious blue knapsack. After he’d stocked up, he left the store and began to walk out of town, passing many a curious eye on his way, though none daring to offer any sort of aid to the now unwillingly famous pony. It seemed Dodge wasn’t the kind of town to ask questions: not a bad thing. In the short journey between the town’s carfax and the nearest forest, he kept his head on full swivel, just as an antelope lifts its ears in search of predators. There did not appear to be any dubious characters, but I don’t doubt the sharks could smell the blood; it’d be easy for one to don a suit. I feared I’d bring them with me, as irrational as it was. Like they could peer into my imagination. They didn’t present any danger to me, only to Charlie, and I’d already proven myself to be a danger to him. I took no comfort in that fact, as I shouldn’t have.To my (and his) relief, he got out of the town without futher incident. A considerable way into the forest, he suddenly stopped and yelled ‘I hope you're still with me!’ It wasn’t directed at anypony in particular. Then I realised I wasn’t a pony. Had the fool forgiven me? So I flew onto a branch in front of him, as opposed to just skirting the canopy above him. ‘There you are, been awhile hasn’t it? It’s good to be sober, and even better to see you again.’ He chuckled a bit, as though his time had been otherwise well spent and voluntarily so. Yeah, he’d forgiven me. ‘You been doing alright?’ Fine, just, fine. As real as the blood you remind me of is, you can’t see it. I wonder what you’d do if you could... ‘Do you remember the blood?’ I outstretched my left wing and started to nibble it to indicate my distress, designed to dissuade Charlie from talking any further on the topic. Instead, he made a distinctive quizzical expression, sensing he’d hit a nerve, though, not fully understanding the depth of guilt. ‘You must have seen me scare that filly away...’ His head drooped, now that he'd witnessed the ripples of the drunk night in relative hindsight---courtesy of yours truly. ‘May I have a feather?’ That, was a very odd request. Phoenix's were supposed to be too regal, too bound to their honour to be asked for, anything. Fairly close to offhandedly requesting to be recruited into Celestia’s royal guard I’d think. As far as I knew, they were perceived as legendary objects, a gift from bird to pony, certainly not demanded. And nopony would have any use for one, it was just a pretty red thing, ultimately. I suppose if somepony was interested enough as a scientist (there were none that were so yet, evidently) they might ask for one, but this? Charlie glared determinedly on, waiting for his wish to be granted.