//------------------------------// // Additional Research: O Fortuna, pt. 2 // Story: The Stranger and Her Friend // by TheUrbanMoose //------------------------------// A short ways behind the cottage was a grove of trees, small enough to remain unobtrusive, but large enough to be explored and played in by adventurous colts and fillies. It was only a five minute walk, and their cottage remained well within sight if they stayed on the edge of the treeline. It was a close enough to the town square that it made a popular play area for all the children, though they were surprised to see that nopony was there when they arrived. Most of the foals were still at the lake, they supposed, though why they would still be there at this hour when the evening would only get colder was beyond them. The trio ventured deep into the grove until they found the very center of it, marked by a wide clearing and a shoddy but much beloved community treehouse that the foals of Ponyville all shared. Red evening sunlight came diffused through the forest canopy above, creating a pleasant twilit sanctuary, ideal for the training of warriors. They spent around five minutes finding branches and logs to set up as targets for Strike. After they had constructed four dummies, which were nothing more than intertwined sticks leaning against trees or propped up on stumps, he began to get impatient and charged in, swinging furiously. He cut one target in half, then another, and pierced another with a thrusting blow. The last one was blown over by a light breeze of wind. Undeterred, he slashed at it against the ground, shouting the trademark phrases of storybook heroes all the while. After his foes were vanquished, he turned back to his audience of Rummy and Daylight and reared triumphantly back on his hind legs, holding his sword high in the air. His bravery was met with modest applause, and soon after, they began setting up the targets again. “Can I try?” Rummy asked, gathering up the remains of the dispatched branches. “Hmm…” Strike muttered less than enthusiastically, bobbing his head back and forth. “Well, okay. But only for a little bit. And don’t hurt yourself.” Rummy gave a wide smile and continued constructing a target, making it with extra care. This one would be his. “Hey, do you hear that?” The brothers turned around to see Daylight tilting her head with one ear perked straight up to the open air. “Hear what?” Rummy asked. “Shhhh!” Daylight reprimanded. Strike fell silent and put his ear up as well. Rummy, still not hearing anything, mimicked them. “Look,” Daylight whispered. “There.” They looked at Daylight to see her pointing towards further into the woods. She dropped her hoof, and squinted at something. “Uh… our treehouse?” Strike chuckled. “Yeah, it’s still there.” “No,” she said, shaking her head and pointing again. “Past the treehouse. Through the woods. What is that?” Rummy and Strike looked closer. Sure enough, moving west through the distant edge of the grove, there was… something. They had a poor angle on whatever it was, but through spaces between the trees they saw two figures galloping at top speed. Both seemed to be in great haste. One was a pony wearing a cloak, that much was obvious. The dark color of her coat was impossible to tell for sure, but she was a unicorn; uncommon for the town of Ponyville, but not unheard of. The other, however, was a complete mystery. Rummy rubbed his eyes, and looked again. The creature’s proportions were all wrong. Its forelegs were considerably smaller than its hind legs. Its head was small, and its stature impossibly tall. Stranger still, the creature moving beside the pony galloped on two legs. And it was moving just as fast! If he listened, he could hear their hoofsteps; one was the successive, quadruple clop of galloping, as was normal, and the other was simply beat after beat, in completely unbroken two-four time. Perhaps it was a trick of the light, or a skewed result of their brief viewing through the alleys of the forest, but they could not be sure. Nopony was able to get a better view, and the two beings quickly vanished from sight behind thicker foliage. “Did you see that?” Rummy said, turning back to his companions. “Yeah.” Strike casually held his hoof on the pommel of his sword while the tip dug into the ground. Looking at him, Rummy could tell that not only was he ready to use it at a moment’s notice, but was dying to do so. “What was that thing?” Daylight shook her head. “I dunno…” They waited for a moment, silently puzzling over what they had seen. Eventually, Rummy’s eyes widened, shining with a spark of sudden recognition. “Oh, wait! I know!” Rummy said. “Miss Cheery told me about them! She said they lived in the east, across the ocean and by the north-eastern mountains. She said they were called hie… hie… manz. Hiemanz.” “Hie-manz…” Daylight repeated. “Miss Cheery?” Strike snorted. “That old unicorn don’t know nothin’. I’ll bet it was a monster! Hiya!” He swung his sword forward towards the unfinished targets they had set up. Mid-swing, he lost his grip on the hilt, and it flew out of his hooves and further into the grove. It bounced off of a fallen tree, wobbled back and forth in mid-air, and then came to rest in a pile of leaves even further down. “Oops.” He gave a sheepish smile, and excused himself to fetch it. Daylight and Rummy were left alone. Rummy thought about going to help, but he knew his brother would simply decline, regardless of how much struggle he seemed to be having actually finding his sword. So, he simply stood and waited, looking around at anything but her. It was strange, not having his brother around to defer the attention upon. Even though it was what he thought he wanted, it felt a little uncomfortable, being alone. He kicked a rock at his hooves. “So what’s with the shivering thing?” Daylight asked suddenly. Rummy looked up. “Hm?” “Just now. You shivered a little, all over. And in the house, you did the same thing, but… more.” He had shaken just now? Rummy had not even noticed. “Uh…” “Are you cold?” “No.” “Well what is it, then?” she demanded. “I, uh… it just happens, sometimes. Usually it’s not so bad.” As if on cue, he experienced a full-bodied twitch at that very moment. It was the very same sensation from a while ago, albeit on a smaller scale. He knew there was no hiding it. “Sometimes, my mom says it’s ‘cause the gods are tickling me.” Daylight tilted her head, and giggled. “You’re funny.” “Yeah…” “I like you.” Rummy’s ears perked up. What? She liked him? Actually liked him? Liked him like how? Like, just liked him? Or like liked him? He felt his cheeks burning up. She liked him. “Uh… I like you t-” A shrieking howl pierced the air. He immediately cut his words short, and both of their heads turned towards the source of the noise. It seemed to originate from the east where the grove extended, well beyond their line of sight. They simultaneously fell into complete silence, neither moving a muscle, both listening hard for whatever it was. Strike returned, crashing through the leaves of the grove, speaking with his prize sword in his mouth. “’Ey guys, what wa’zat?” Daylight simply frowned and shook her head. Rummy briefly noticed that Daylight’s sister had awoken in the carrier saddlebag, but had yet to make a noise. They made eye contact briefly. She stared at him with young, clueless, icy blue eyes. He was about to notify Daylight, but was cut off. Another howl echoed through the open air, this time, with all three of them listening intently. It was loud, guttural, and very unnerving; and despite its animalistic timbre, the sound was curiously unnatural. Everything seemed to fall into an eerie silence, like the calm before a storm – and this was the severest calm he had never heard. Anything that made any noise was supremely disruptive. The wind blew, and the leaves rustled far too loudly. Strike shifted in place, rustling the grass, and Rummy almost felt like telling him to hold still. He even held his own breath to try and remain quiet, to no avail. His heart was pounding much too loud. He felt wrong. Something was wrong. Rummy had stumbled across a bear once, while exploring the forest. It had roared its warning at him, and he had galloped away as fast as his little hooves could carry him. He had had the good fortune to have not been pursued, but the memory of that roar shook him to his bones, and haunted his dreams for nights after. This was something entirely different. No natural predator, no matter how enraged, could make the air vibrate and the leaves tremble like they were now. They heard it again. “W-what is that?” Rummy drew closer to his brother. “A monster?” “What?” Strike said casually. “No. Probably just your hiemanz thing.” “But the hiemanz went that way...” he muttered, pointing to the west. Strike shrugged. “Maybe there are more of them.” A moment went came and went in silence. Rummy shifted nervously. “Maybe we should go home.” Nopony moved for a long time. Intent listening was all for naught in the vacuum of silence. “Okay. Yeah.” Strike nodded. “Let me just go get something from the treehouse.” “Strike…” Rummy whined. His whole body twitched. “What? It’ll only take a second.” He took a few steps in that direction. “Can’t we just go? Ple-” Rummy almost seemed to hiccup as his face briefly cringed. “Please?” “Yeah, we can go, just hang on.” “No!” Strike stopped, and blinked. “Huh?” Rummy was standing in place, shivering every so often. His eyes brimmed with emotion. “No, Strike, we need to go, right now. Please.” His tone was uncharacteristically aggressive, and his words likewise. It threw Strike completely off balance. Even Daylight seemed to wonder at his outburst, watching their exchange with curiosity. “Okay, Rummy,” he replied. “Calm down. It’s okay. We’re going.” He sheathed his sword, returned to his brother’s side, and started walking south. The others followed suit. After they started, Daylight had noticed her wakened sister, who was by now obviously distressed, perhaps for the same reason they were. She softly cooed to her in an effort to stop the tears just barely brimming at her cheeks. “So what did you think of the sword?” Strike eventually asked, voicing his question to no one in particular. “It’s great,” Daylight said. “And this was fun. Dad doesn’t like me swinging swords. Actually, he doesn’t mind, but mom says it’s not ladylike. She says I’ll never need to.” She shrugged indifferently, but said, “We should play more often.” Strike enthusiastically nodded. “Yeah, we should! Well, that is,” he added, lowering his voice and shooting a teasing glance back at his brother, “if it’s okay with Rummy.” But he was not listening. Rummy’s head was craned forward and low, and he kept looking around and behind himself. He seemed to be in a state of undue distress, his expression worried, and his movements jerky and stiff. “Rummy?” “Huh? O-oh. Yeah.” He gave a noncommittal nod. Strike scowled. “You okay?” Suddenly, Rummy stopped. “What was that?” They all stopped with him. Strike and Daylight looked around, perking their ears up and listening in all directions. They stood a long time in silence, but just looking at him, Rummy was so intent on some noise he had heard that it seemed rude to say otherwise. Strike was just about to anyways when they heard it. Twigs snapping and branches breaking, originating from far behind them. Something was moving towards them, at least at a walking pace. “I hear it,” Daylight muttered. “Uh-huh. Probably just a wild animal,” Strike said. “No big deal.” “Y-yeah.” Rummy was quick to agree, and yet, oddly hesitant. “No big deal.” They listened for another moment. The sound did not stop. Eventually, they resumed walking, all at a slightly faster pace. “So yeah,” Strike continued, “if you wanna come along, this weekend me an’ Rummy were gonna go to the...” He trailed off. The rustling behind them had gotten quicker, louder, and closer. Rummy’s brows were furrowed with fear. Daylight was only absently nodding at Strike’s speech. “...to the... the, uh... the base of the Canter Spire...” It was still getting closer. “...going to the base of the spire for some gem hunting, in case you want to, you know, come along, or... or whatever...” And closer. Strike trailed off, and did not resume. Daylight was silent, and Rummy was whimpering. None of them dared to turn around. Whatever it was, it was of far greater size than they. And it was close. They again heard the howl, coming from the far distance. This time, it genuinely frightened them. But not more than what came next. Seemingly in response to the distant howl, the thing moving behind them gave a low, animal growl. Without a word, they began to run. The trio dodged through trees and ducked under branches, moving as fast as their legs could carry. Terrifyingly, their stalker gave chase. Its mighty steps were huge and rumbling, shaking the earth whenever they made contact. It seemed to have trouble with the tight quarters they galloped through, but it kept up just the same. Rummy’s body reacted more violently than his mind. His gallop was plagued by a series of twitches and shakes that impeded his movement, effectively halving his speed. His brother said nothing, but fell behind, nudging Rummy’s hindquarters in order to get him to move faster. Daylight pulled ahead, but not too far. They heard another growl behind them, louder than the last. Their pursuer bumped into something, and stopped. They heard creaking, cracking, and groaning, and then a tree – an entire tree! Rummy mentally screamed – fell beside them, hitting the forest floor with a great crash. He cried out in distress, and tried his hardest to carry his own weight. Behind them, they heard a roar. It was identical to the one in the distance; only now, it was closer, and much more real. “Go, Rummy!” Strike cried, still pushing at his brother. He could not respond. His breath was a heavy mix of panting and whimpering as he tried his absolute hardest to move forward. They were almost to the edge of the grove when they heard it again. The howl. Except this time, there was more. The noise hit them like a wave, and stopped them all in place. Strike stood rigid and ready, Daylight cringed protectively over her sister, and Rummy covered his ears. The howl was multiplied by ten, no, one hundred times or more, coming in from seemingly every direction. They were all different; some were roars, bass enough to shake the ground, and others were screeches, piercing enough to make a pony clutch at their ears in pain. Still others were indescribable, incomparable to anything the children had ever heard, save for the absolute terror they inspired. For a moment, the deadly calm returned. Then, the storm came, and it did not stop. A violent ambience began to play in the distance, like the racketeering of one thousand demons. It was ambiguous, and the children, in their fear-stricken state, could not make anything out for sure. Thundering, crashing, splintering, screaming... the only thing they knew, and they did indeed know it, was that it bad. Horribly, terribly bad. The resumed running. They had to get out of the grove. They had to get to safety. They did not know why exactly they were running towards the cottage, only that they must. The howls of a hundred beasts did not just happen. They were sure there was danger, somewhere, somehow. It was behind them, in front of them, everywhere. Rummy nearly tripped over his own stiffened limb, but Strike would not allow him. “No!” he screamed, pushing his brother upright before he could fall. The edge of the grove was a small ways away. Twenty-one yards, and Rummy was beginning to tire. They were sure to be caught. Thirteen yards, and Strike actually took most of his brother’s weight upon himself. He would not leave him behind. Seven yards, and Daylight broke the edge of the grove ahead of them. They were not sure they were going to make it. Two yards, and Strike tripped. And then, they broke free. Their momentum carried them tumbling out of the grove and into the open meadow that stood behind their house. Strike swiftly rolled back to his hooves. Rummy fell ungracefully, and took the full force of the ground on his side, sliding and scraping across it. Strike hurried to help him up. “You’re okay. Yo-ooou’re okay, c’mon little brother, get up,” he said, quickly ushering Rummy to a stand. It was much harder than it should have been. Once he was up, Strike peered over Rummy’s shoulder at the forest, looking back for the first time. He expected to see a monster, or a beast, or something charging after them. There was not. How long ago had their stalker given up the chase? He gave a shout of triumph, rearing his hooves into the air. “We’re okay!” he cried. “We outran the monster! Nothing can beat us!” He gave his hooves one more triumphant wave before falling back to the earth, collapsing over the shoulder of his brother. “Everything’s gonna be okay,” he said, panting with exhaustion and relief. “We’re safe. We’re safe.” “Strike?” Daylight said. Strike did not have the energy to turn back, instead leaving his head draped over Rummy’s back. “Strike?” Daylight repeated, more urgently. “What?” he called irately, still content to just rest. “Strike.” He blinked. It was the strange tone of his brother that finally got him to raise his head. He looked into Rummy’s eyes, eyes that did not bother looking back at him. Nevertheless, he saw unmistakable reflections – of fire, destruction, and fear. His own senses were awakened. Not once had he realized it, but the ugly ambience had yet to cease its sounding. Still, it washed over them in great, horrible cascades, starting with little power or variation, then getting louder, and louder, and louder, and with its volume, all the more distinct. Thundering earth, splintering wood, and eventually, the horrified screams of townsponies were all part of it. “Look,” Rummy whispered. Strike drew away from Rummy, and looked across the meadow towards their cottage, and the rural streets of Ponyville. It was then, wide-eyed and motionless, that he saw the source. Across the meadow and in front of their home, a veritable legion of horrifying creatures ran rampant through the streets. Things of all shapes and sizes hurried wildly in all directions, all of them many times larger than a natural pony. Their eyes strained against the setting sun, and only shadowy silhouettes were visible, but it was enough. Enormous lions roamed the streets, sporting scorpion tails the length of their own bodies, and broad leathery wings folded into their backs. Their forepaws alone were nearly as large a fully-grown pony, and could probably crush one with minimal effort. Wolves zipped back and forth in packs of two or three. They appeared normal at first sight, save for their size, but the jaggedness of their outline and the glow of their eyes suggested something different, something far more sinister. They made a crackling noise when they moved, as if they were constantly trudging through dense foliage, snapping twigs and crushing leaves. One of them stopped between the alleyways and howled, just long enough for the trio to get a better look. It did not just sound like breaking sticks; its body appeared to actually be made from bits of wood. Its teeth and claws could have been deadly daggers, or rather, sharp wooden stakes. Strike had paid attention when Ms. Cheery had taught them about monsters. He had thought it was exciting. Now, he was sure “exciting” was the completely wrong word. Nevertheless, he knew exactly what these creatures were: manticores and timberwolves. Beasts of the horde, creations of the wicked alicorns. And if they were in the streets of Ponyville, then their pursuer in the forest... Without a spoken word or cue, all three of them took off towards the cottage at once. By now, Daylight’s sister was wailing in her carrier, jostled by the bounce of Daylight’s gallop, anxious at the loud howls, and frightened at the sudden burst of activity around her. Daylight could do nothing to calm her, and frantic to get to safety, did not really try. Strike was years older than both of them, and while his gallop was the fastest, he slowed himself to wait for the others. It took a huge strength of will to do so; his brother was still barely moving at a trot. “Hurry, Rummy!” he called. “I can’t!” Rummy cried to his brother, who was beginning to pull ahead. “W-wait up! I… I can’t!” Rummy’s gait was a complete mess. Nearly every galloping step he tried to take, his body would freeze up and shake, almost as if he were trying to jump in place. Each instance was brief but utterly crippling, until he was stumbling nearly the whole way. Eventually, he took a stuttering step from which there was no recovery, and tumbled to the ground. A moment’s struggle was all he needed to know that getting back up was impossible; the shaking was too intense, and too frequent. “Wait!” Rummy called, lifting his head. “Don’t leave me!” Strike slowed to a stop, and Daylight did likewise. She returned to his side, pacing around him, not knowing what to do. Her sister was still crying in her carrier. Strike was still approaching, only a few moments away, when a particularly loud pair of roars stopped him. A manticore of particularly large size bumped into one of its brethren. The other pushed back, and they roared at each other before engaging in a bloodthirsty brawl, right outside of their cottage. “Strike!” Rummy yelled. He heard his brother, but could not take his eyes off of the scene unfolding before him. It was completely incomprehensible. “W-what’s going on?” Tears were brimming in Rummy’s eyes. He was still intermittently shaking on the ground, though he had managed to sit upright on his own. “What do we do?” “I don’t know.” Daylight’s sister was bawling loudly. It was all Daylight could do to take her out of the carrier and rock her in her arms, but nothing seemed to calm the little foal. Daylight herself looked as though she needed the same comforting treatment. “What about mom and daddy? What do we do?!” He turned back and shouted. “I don’t know!” Suddenly, there was a great crash of splintering wood. They turned to the source of the noise – one of the manticores had actually killed the other. The winner had moved on; the loser had fallen directly into the side of the forge, crashing through the eastern wall. “Daddy!” Rummy struggled to his hooves, managing to plant his right forehoof on the ground, and then his left, shaking as he pushed down on them. His brother was much quicker. Drawing his sword, he took off, dashing through the tall grass towards the forge. “Strike!” Rummy screamed. “Don’t leave me!” He slowed, but did not stop, and yelled back. “Stay together, go to the church!” “Don’t leave me!” But in the chaotic tumult, he was already beyond hearing range, and soon enough, he was out of their sight as well, disappearing into the wreckage of the forge. Rummy had only half drawn himself up before attempting to run forward. It merely resulted in an awkward, prolonged stumble, as he walked with an impediment that neither he nor Daylight fully understood. “Strike!” His body froze up, then overcompensated by swinging his leg too far forward. He fell and skinned his knee, only to raise himself and keep going. “Strike!” Daylight galloped in front of him. “Rummy, stop!” He merely attempted to run around her. “Stri-iiiiiiike!” She grabbed his shoulder and stopped him in place, shaking him. “Rummy!” He looked at her. “What?” he said in a half-sob. “He said to go to the church! We need to go! It’s made of stone, it can protect us!” He pushed against her hoof. “But m-my family-” “They will meet us there! C’mon!” For the first time ever, he wished Daylight were gone. He did not want her attention, he wanted her to get out of his way. How could she be so sure, so composed? Rummy knew he was not the bravest colt in the world, but Daylight sounded like… like a grown-up. And she was younger than him. Was she even scared at all? He looked into her eyes. It was hard to detect, but he was very familiar with the emotion. Yes, she was scared. And she was also probably right. “O-okay.” He ceased struggling against her. “Okay. You’ll… have to help me…” Standing on the opposite side of her sister, who was still bawling, Rummy wrapped his arm around the back of her neck, and together, they hobbled towards the church. It was set on the edge of town, so they would not have to cross any roads to get there. The church was a modest building. Made of white stone taken from the mountain, it was undoubtedly the finest structure in all of Ponyville, as well as the sturdiest and most fortified, should the townspeople ever need a place to stay safe. If ever there was a time for such a use, it was now. Indeed, even as they kept their distance from the town proper, they could see ponies racing in its direction, frantically seeking refuge from the beasts that pursued them. And indeed, they were pursued. A great many of the beasts ran in that direction as well, chasing down their prey without mercy or remorse. They were drawing close to the church. It was within sight, and at their slow pace, they would be there in another two minutes. The great brass bell atop the tower rang loudly and without end, serving as a hopeful beacon. Grand double doors stood open on either side of the building, with ponies standing watch, ushering in the fleeing refugees and doing their best to scare off the manticores and timberwolves that ran about, though they never directly confronted any of them. It seemed the beasts were intimidated by fire, the timberwolves especially, as they kept a large berth around the ponies carrying and swinging torches. It was then that Rummy experienced the strangest feeling. His ears perked up, his eyes went wide, and he stopped moving. He was vaguely aware of Daylight pleading with him to keep going, but oddly enough, it did not seem important. The feeling, however, was. His tail gave a sudden swish, and his head a sudden twitch, but that was unimportant too. Rather, he felt a sudden, survivalist urge, like the overwhelming need to take a breath after being underwater for too long. It was the strongest impression to… “Get down!” Without warning, Rummy wrapped his other arm around Daylight’s neck and pulled her towards him, simultaneously collapsing to the ground. He let out a wheeze of air as he hit the dirt with the full weight of Daylight and her sister on top of him. She struggled out of his grip, and rolled away. “Are you insa-” “Shut up!” Rummy whispered frantically, putting his hoof forward to stop her attempts at getting up. She stopped struggling, and simply looked at him, shaking her head. “Why?” Rummy blinked. Why indeed? He had no idea. He himself was about to get up, when a shriek pierced the air. It was close by, and it was undoubtedly that of a pony’s. Lying on the ground, all they could see was the tall grass before them, and each other. Their hearing was unimpeded, however, and what happened next, they heard with perfect clarity. Daylight and Rummy stared into each other’s eyes, listening. They heard a pony, probably an adult, probably female, let out a terrified scream. They heard her hooves stomp against the grass, passing right in front of them. They heard something chasing her, claws clicking against dirt, grass crunching under heavy paws. They heard the fleeing pony trip on something. They heard her tumble to the ground only a small distance away from them. They heard a horrified wail, cut short by the sound of punctured flesh, diminishing into a whimper, and then a gurgle, and then nothing. Daylight’s eyes were wide, but she kept her breathing even, and did not move a muscle. Her sister seemed as though she were about to cry at one point; after doing her best to console her, when it was apparent she was going to fail, she clamped a hoof over her mouth, hard. It was Rummy who looked as though he was going to be sick. He was breathing too quickly to be healthy, and appeared seconds away from vomiting. The noises did not stop. Ripping, tearing, biting, gnawing, growling, snapping… it went on for horrible minutes, only yards away from them, and all they could do was lie there and look at each other. Eventually, in the distance, they heard a great crash. The creature paused, twigs snapping as it shifted its weight. Rummy caught a brief glimpse of it – a disfigured, horrifying thing that seemed to be made of nothing but claws and scales and dripping red fangs. It snarled, and started off towards the source. In the most terrifying moment yet, it zipped directly by them. Rummy felt the wind from its movement, the tall grass that obscured him swaying for a brief moment. Had the thing been only a few inches to the left, it would have tripped over his head. Daylight and Rummy simply lay there; for how long, neither of them knew. There was silence between them; and they heard nothing but the ever present riot in the background, the ring of the church bell, and the sound of something wet drip, drip, dripping on the grass. Rummy felt sick. He could practically feel where the thing had been moments before, like a horrible, lasting mark. It felt wrong. Eventually, Daylight released her hoof from her sister’s mouth, who immediately wailed. She began rising to her hooves, profusely apologizing. “Ohhh, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, it’s okay, shhhh…” None of it seemed to help. Lucky rose to his hooves as well, wearing an odd look on his face. He refused Daylight’s help when she offered him her shoulder, moving forward on his own without a problem. Together, they raced towards the church. On their way, they spotted a large patch of red-stained grass. There was no body, only a mass of… Rummy gagged, and slowed to a walk. It was a moment before he could compose himself, letting the bile drivel from his mouth and continuing on. ********** We reached the church. The view of the actual carnage was quite visible on our way. Ponyville was in chaos. Bodies of ponies lay strewn everywhere, many of them known to me. The beasts did not even see fit to eat all of their kills. They were simply in it for the sport. The corpses would lie there for another month, rotting in the town square until we came back to deal with the beasts, and bury them. Suitable, I suppose, for creations of Discord. Still, all this from a pack of damn strays. Some had tried to fight, others had escaped the town, but most of the citizens either died or escaped to the church. It acted as our place of refuge, spiritually and, in this case, physically. In fact, when it was constructed, the builders postulated that it might serve as a good “disaster center”, in which ponies could congregate should tragedy or danger strike their town. Not that anypony actually expected it to happen. It was made of Canterlot stone – though I’m sure you already guessed that. As such, it was actually a fairly good place stay protected. It was all for naught, though; no mortal masonry can withstand the pushing of true demons. Against some of Discord’s fiends, there is no entrenchment that will stand, and realistically, the only tactical solution remains to attack. Sometimes, the only real defense is an active defense. Of course, actually attacking was something none of us were going to do, which is why the church did not stay standing for long. We both tried searching for our parents, to no avail. My brother was missing as well. ********** The church was crowded. Every bit of open space seemed to be occupied. In one corner, the town doctor had set up a makeshift infirmary to care for the wounded. It was swamped with more ponies than he could possibly hope to handle. After searching for family and failing, Daylight and Rummy had settled in, taking an available space by church’s only shrine, lying close to each other near the base of one of the three altars. Rummy did not bother checking to see which one. Daylight had finally managed to rock her sister to sleep. She removed the carrier from her middle and wrapped her in the extra folds. Then, brushing the stiffness out of her fur, she laid down at Rummy’s side, curled protectively around the bundle of cloth that was her sister. Rummy simply remained motionless and numb with his back to the altar. He glanced at Daylight. Her eyes were closed, but she was not sleeping. Normally, he would have relished the proximity. Right now, he did not care. He just wanted his family back. He wanted his mother, his father, and most of all, his brother Lucky Strike. Immediately after they had entered the church, the doors had been closed. Occasionally, a watchpony at the window would call for them to be opened, allowing a straggler or two inside. After about half an hour, however, there were no more stragglers. At first, the sounds were terrible. Chaos ran rampant outside the walls of the church, and the walls did less to muffle the howls of the beasts than they would have hoped. It certainly let through the death knells of fleeing ponies, which were undoubtedly worse. After the doors were closed, the beasts began their assault on the church itself. Timberwolves clawed furiously at the entrances, and manticores flung themselves into the white stone. The walls held, however, and each set of doors was manned by no less than ten of Ponyville’s strongest. In fact, the citizens felt quite safe with them at the entries; there were few things stronger than an earth pony farmer, or rather, an earth pony farmer desperately defending his own life and the lives of his family. The beautifully crafted stained-glass windows had been shattered by manticores, but thankfully, the gaps were too narrow for entry. Finally, after the bell ringer had been killed in the exposed steeple by a gliding manticore, the tower was sealed up. The bell went silent, and the church became a pitiful fortress, like a helpless turtle drawn into its shell. Regardless of how helpless they felt, however, the ponies were relieved when the world of chaos outside fell silent. The roaring, banging, and scratching went away. A watchpony sounded a word of good news; the beasts retreated from the walls and doors, becoming disinterested and no longer attempting to gain entry. Some ponies were even daring enough to let out a cheer, though it was met with meager reception. Most were still in shock over what just happened. Their relief did not last long. Bmmm. Rummy perked his head up, as did everypony else in the church. Bmmm. “Did you hear that?” Daylight whispered, looking towards him. He did not respond, but she saw his body twitch yet again. Bmmm, bmmm. A deep trembling shook the ground, intermittently sending bass vibrations that everypony could feel. Pebbles and pieces of glass shook in place with each new sound. Bmmm, bmmm, bmmm, bmmm, bmmm, bmmm… Rummy felt like he should rise to his hooves, and so he did. It sounded like hoofsteps, but louder and deeper, as if they belonged to some giant creature. That was impossible, though. Nothing was that big. Bmmm, bmmm, bmmm, bmmm, bmmm! They began to get louder and closer. Bmmm, bmmm, bmmm! Some of the ponies let out cries of fear as whatever it was fast approaching, until it sounded to be right outside the church. The watchpony at his window could not get a good angle on the direction, and was not terribly inclined to keep trying. Everypony braced themselves for an imminent impact that was sure to come. Rummy felt like he should back away from the altars, and so he did. They waited. Nothing happened. The sound had suddenly fallen silent, and the quaking of the ground had ceased. For a long time, everypony looked towards the western doors, the source of the sound. A dozen earth ponies had already propped themselves up against it, putting up a living blockade, ready to repel any intruders. And yet, none came. Minutes went by without event. They began to relax. Eventually, everypony assumed that whatever had made the noise was gone. Rummy felt like they were wrong. Without warning, there was an enormous crash above them. The crowd was instantly sent into a frenzy. Rummy tried to look up, but was knocked to his side by a galloping stallion. Attempting to get back up was met with further failure, as he was buffeted by another’s hooves, and another, until he fell to the floor. It was all he could do to curl into a defensive fetal position and close his eyes. He heard the doors on either side of the church swing open; the crowd was attempting to flee. Why? A roar sounded above him, more terrible and loud and piercing than all the rest, shaking him to his core. After doing his best to avoid being trampled by the panicking ponies, he raised his head and got his answer. Peeking through a wide new hole in the roof of the church was a huge dragon’s head. Its scales were a slimy copper green, its protruding teeth were razor sharp, and its eyes were looking directly at him. He flinched at yet another crash, and another, and another. Looking back up, there was not just one, but four identical dragon heads in total, all smashed through the roof. No, not a dragon. This mythic beast, he knew exactly what it was. He remembered it from the stories. Great heroes always slew them. Feeble peasants were always terrorized by them. The hydra. The heads withdrew from their holes, and began punching through in other areas of the roof, wildly thrashing about as if its sole purpose was to reduce every last timber to splinters. Debris rained down on the chapel floor, from small shingles to strong wooden support beams. Most of the other ponies had already evacuated the church. He felt like he should do the same. He turned on his hooves, and started towards the door. “Help!” Rummy skidded to a stop. Turning around, he saw Daylight still near the shrine, digging at a pile of debris. She spotted him, and called out. “Lucky Break! Help me!” “Daylight! C’mon!” he shouted, frantically motioning towards himself. “My sister!” Rummy blinked. Daylight turned back to the debris, digging at it from another angle. As she shifted, he saw it: her sister, still wrapped in the cloth carrier, was trapped near a wooden beam. The baby herself seemed to be unharmed, and was lying in the open. However, the fabric was pinned to the ground and pulled tight; the carrier was immovable, and with the cloth so taut, there was no chance of unbundling the poor foal. Indeed, it almost seemed to squeezing the life out of her, as she tried to cry, but could not quite muster the oxygen to properly do so. “Help me!” Daylight shouted. Rummy simply stood there, frozen in place by inexplicable indecision. He wanted to go and help her. But he felt like he should not. He lifted a hoof, and put it back down in the same spot. What was stopping him? Surprised he was not already by her side, Daylight turned back to him, viewing his indecision with disbelief. “Lucky!” Daylight cried, eyes wide with terror. “Please!” ********** The first time Discord ever appeared to you, Celestia, he mentioned something about my gift. Do you remember? I threw a dagger at the profaned body of Reverie, but ended up hitting Cotton instead. After, he said something along the lines of, “it must be great for staying alive, but it never turns out well for your friends.” Did you ever wonder what he was talking about? Because this is exactly it. ********** Rummy felt like he should turn and go. And so he did. One last cry reached his ears as he fled the church. “Lucky!” And then, there was a great series more of crashes. He allowed himself one glance back. The hydra, which he now saw was taller than the church building itself, had completely wrecked the shrine wall, causing it to collapse inward. Right where Daylight had been. He looked forward again. His insides twisted; it was the worst he had ever felt in his young life. Yet, more horrifying than anything else, he was unsure whether it was because of the close call, or the pony he had left to die. The beasts had broken loose again. Even as the hydra was falling into the distance behind him, manticores and timberwolves ran rampant ahead of him, tearing at the crowd that fled before them. “To Canterlot!” he heard somepony say. “Go to Canterlot!” Canterlot… the mountain village to the north. Ponyville’s trading partner. Yes, he knew where Canterlot was and how to get there. Canterlot would protect them. He set his internal compass north towards the jagged peaks in the distance, which he realized was already the direction he was heading. Rummy’s heart skipped a beat as he realized he was catching up with the beasts that pursued the fleeing townsfolk. He even passed one manticore, stopped to enjoy its newest catch. And yet, he felt like he should keep on going forward. So he did. A manticore broke off from the sickening parade and turned to face him, apparently having heard his tiny galloping hoofbeats. It roared at him with clear intent. He did not slow his charge one bit, not at all feeling brave, and not at all knowing what he was doing or why he was doing it. He drew closer and closer towards the manticore, until it actually began charging back at him. It jumped, diving towards him with claws outstretched and teeth bared. Rummy was a moment away from death, when he felt something. Rummy broke out of his gallop and gave a sudden shift in direction. Both his front and hind legs collapsed, but they rather than going limp, they retained an inexplicable amount of poise, as if it had been on purpose. In an instant, his form fell backwards while his momentum still propelled him forwards, and he felt himself sliding on the dirt road, rocks and pebbles grinding against his side. Half of a second later, the yellow fur of the manticore obscured his vision as he slid underneath its killing dive. He felt something, and his hooves dug into the ground, tilting him back to a standing position. Rummy resumed galloping without pause. Before he had time to think about what had just happened, a timberwolf came towards him, fangs already dripping with blood. It bit at his neck, and he dodged to the left and galloped past it, moving faster and reacting quicker than he ever had in his entire life. As soon as it realized it had missed, the wolf turned and gave chase, not so easily giving up its pursuit. Rummy could not outrun it, but he did not feel like he should try. Instead, he veered towards the safety of a nearby shop. Its door was already open, and as he ran inside, he closed it behind him. He came skidding to a stop, taking a moment to view his surroundings. Tables and stools dotted an open floor. A cozy fire burned in a hearth against one wall, and an old piano stood on an elevated part of the floor. This was not just a shop, it was Ponyville’s saloon. His dad went here sometimes and came home acting all funny, though mother never liked it when he did, so he did not go too often. After he came home, he would often be carrying a bottle of stuff that he would never let Rummy drink. Unfair, seeing as sometimes the bottle was labeled with his name, sort of. He felt like he needed one of those bottles right now. His head swiveled all around until he finally saw a large cabinet behind a counter. They were in there, he was sure of it. He hopped up onto the counter, and then hopped behind it. Nearby, he heard the timberwolf clawing at the door, howling with rage. It would not be long before it broke through. Rummy stood on the tips of his hooves, and pulled on the cabinet handle. It did not budge. He frowned, and pulled harder, with still no effect. Was it locked? On the other side of the counter, he heard the sound of splintering wood. Rummy peeked over to see a pair of claws furiously working at a hole in the door that was gradually becoming wider and wider. He went back to the cabinet, and pulled, and pulled, to no avail. He was beginning to get desperate. Why he needed whatever was in this cabinet, he had no idea; he only knew that he did indeed need it. Drawing back, he turned around and coiled his legs, bucking them backwards in as powerful a kick as an eight-year-old could muster. It was not enough. There was no change in the condition of the cabinet, and now his legs hurt. The nearby door splintered particularly loudly. He had only seconds left. He paced back and forth for a moment in thought, and decided to try something else. Backing up as far as the space behind the counter would allow, he got low, and dragged one hoof on the ground. His eyes narrowed; he snorted through his nostrils. The door splintered again, and as though it were a signaling gunshot, he sprang into a full gallop. As he drew close to the cabinet, he jumped and put his shoulder forward, colliding full-force with the wooden panels. They shattered into pieces, as did some of the contents inside. Rummy was bleeding now, cut by splinters and shards of glass, shoulder soaked by some sort of liquid that stung at his wounds, but at last, the cupboard was open. He felt like grabbing a specific bottle, a rather large one that had only water in it. Bottle in hoof, he hopped back up onto the counter. The door burst open, and the timberwolf came charging through. Rummy was ready for it. Standing up on two legs, he wound his arm back, and with all his might, threw the bottle at his pursuer. It was a direct hit, the bottle shattering on the wolf’s head, its contents splashing all over its body. Rummy returned to all fours, standing tall and feeling, for a moment, very triumphant. It was only until the wolf shook its head clear and glared at him with clear malice did he ask himself the question: what was the point of that? The wolf leapt forward and swiped an angry claw at him. Feeling very much like a puppet drawn on a string, he instinctively, almost involuntarily jumped off the counter and out of the way. He landed on the floor and bumped into a stool, knocking it over. The wolf swiped again, sweeping the whole table setup away, only just barely missing its target. It tried again, another swipe, another dodge. Again and again it happened. Rummy jumped, rolled, and ran further and further back, using tables as cover and stools as distractions, putting as many obstacles in between him and the timberwolf as possible. Wham! The wolf had finally landed an attack, sending Rummy spiraling across the room, landing in front of the fireplace. Luckily, the impact had been made with the flat of the timberwolf’s paw; the claw marks left Rummy bleeding, but it was not enough to kill him. Unluckily, he was about to die anyways. The wolf slowly approached him, seeing its prey helpless on the ground, knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that it had won. Rummy, still lying on his side, began trying to crawl away. The timberwolf kept on its approach. He looked around. There was no escape to be found; the path to the door was blocked, and he was only backing nearer and nearer to the fire. The fire. Rummy twitched. He felt like he should grab one of the logs. The… logs? In the fire? Grab one of the logs that was currently on fire? Yes, that is what he felt like. And so he did. He scrambled to all fours, and abandoning all caution, reached a hoof directly into the blazing fireplace, grabbing one of the burning logs and pulling it out of place. He screamed. Of course he screamed. He was in incredible pain. But it was what he felt like doing. And then, he felt like throwing it, so he did. The burning log sailed away from Rummy’s hooves. He fell to the floor, clutching his seared arm, still howling in pain. The last thing he cared about was where the log landed, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw it fly through the air and hit the timberwolf’s nose. Without warning, the timberwolf burst into flame. If the eyes of a creature made of wood could widen, then this one’s certainly did. It howled in agony, backing away from Rummy and running in circles around the barroom, knocking over the few tables and stools it had left standing. Its legs were moving faster than the friction of the floor allowed, and it tripped, rolling into the counter, and then finally, sprinting out of the door. Rummy could still hear its howls for minutes after. ********** Who knew alcohol was so flammable? ********** He got up, and found he was unable to stand on his singed hoof. He looked at it. Some of the fur had been burnt off, and the skin underneath was beet red and beginning to blister. Actually, he noted, it was not that bad. Working in the forge had given him worse than this before. He would need the help of a unicorn doctor if he wanted the fur to grow back, and that was irritating, but considering he was still alive, he knew he could be grateful for what relatively minimal injuries he had sustained. Spotting a mirror in one corner of the bar, he walked over to view his reflection, limping as he tried to keep his weight off his injured leg. He stopped and stared at himself. His hoof was singed with a second-degree burn, his face had a claw mark running across the cheek, and his shoulder was covered in lightly bleeding scratches and puncture wounds. In a moment of insanity, Rummy found himself excited at the prospect of showing his scars off to his brother. He gave a start. His brother! Where was he? Was he okay? And what about his parents? Suddenly, he felt like he should leave the barroom and go outside, so he did. Rummy limped into the center of the dirt road. It was completely silent. If he strained his ears, he thought he could hear noises coming from the north, but it could have been his imagination. The beasts, it seemed, had moved on, along with the fleeing residents of Ponyville. Now all that remained was an empty town with broken buildings and rotting corpses. He tried not to look at the deceased ponies; it was too much. A lonely wind gusted through the town, pushing some dust into the air. Rummy had no idea what to do. Or rather, he knew exactly what to do: he had the feeling that he should stay right here, in the center of the street. He just had no idea why. Rummy lifted his eyes, and his ears perked up. Were those… hoofsteps? They were getting closer… He nearly jumped out of his skin when from around the corner of a building a pony appeared, galloping full speed. The runner blew right past him before he got a good look, but then slowed down, and retraced his steps. Rummy turned towards him. It was his brother, Lucky Strike. “Rummy!” Strike yelled. Rummy was unable to respond before he was nearly tackled in a huge hug. He feebly returned the favor, avoiding contact with his injured parts, letting out the same mixture of laughter and sobbing as his brother. “I thought you were dead!” Strike exclaimed. “I… thought you were dead!” Rummy said back. Suddenly, he became very aware of how exhausted he was. “Where were you? What happened? Where’s mum and dad?” Strike’s eyes shifted away, looking anywhere but him. “They’re…” He paused. “Look brother, we need to get out of here. Something is after me. I managed to slow it down, but it’s still faster than us, but if we can…” He paused again, and looked around. “Where’s Daylight?” Rummy’s expression darkened. His gaze fell to the ground. “At the church.” Strike looked at the nearly collapsed stone building, still barely in sight. “That church?” Rummy nodded. “Is she… okay?” “I don’t know,” he said dryly. Strike could do nothing but shake his head. After a moment of silence, he spoke up. “We need to leave. C’mon, Rummy, let’s go.” Strike reached for his brother’s arm, and tugged forward on it. To his surprise, he did not budge. “Hey, I said let’s go.” He tugged again, more forcefully. He only got an inch of movement, and it was not of his brother’s volition. “Rummy? What are you doing, we need to leave!” Rummy’s gaze rose from the ground. On his face was an oddly calm expression, completely out of place amidst the destruction around him and the blood with which it was framed. “No,” he said casually, shaking his head. “I think I’m fine.” Strike stuttered for a moment, unable to find the words. “What? What the hay are you talking about, we need to go! There are still-!” A roar sounded in the distance, silencing Strike and making him look fearfully into the open air. “…There are still monsters about!” he muttered incredulously. “No, Strike, it’s okay. I think I get it.” “Get what?” “My twitches. I understand them!” ********** Except no, I really didn’t. If you’ve ever heard me refer to my Luck as a curse rather than a gift, this is why. I think about this all the time. It made for an excellent lesson, and a horrible life experience. Perhaps the worst I have ever had the misfortune to take part in. They say the naïve young cannot sin, but I am not so sure. When you read this, Celestia, please don’t think less of me. I was young, I was stupid, and I had little understanding of how things worked. I didn’t mean for any of it to happen, and not a day goes by in which I am not sorry for it. Luck never lies. Tuned to a survivalist outcome, Luck was telling me that if I stood in the middle of that street, stock still, I would live to see another day. And it was right. Gods, was it right. ********** “Your twi- Rummy, we don’t have time for this, we need to leave. Now!” As if on cue, at the end of the street, a manticore hobbled into view. Its leg was slashed and bleeding. It turned towards them, and even from this distance, they could see the anger in its eyes. “Dammit!” Rummy looked at his brother curiously. It was the first time he had ever heard him swear. “Calm down, Strike, it’ll be okay.” “You’re out of your mind, Rummy! It’s not gonna be okay!” The manticore roared, and began lumbering towards them. Strike drew his sword. It was already covered in blood. “Okay, okay… I can distract him for a bit, and… and then I’ll be right behind you!” Strike’s voice quivered with fear, another thing that Rummy was unused to hearing. “You can make it if you run, Rummy!” “But… I don’t need to run…” he murmured. His words fell on deaf ears. His brother had already taken off, charging towards a monster that was easily ten times his size and strength. The air rang freely with a courageous battle cry. ********** Except it wasn’t courageous. I can look back on that event with a soldier’s perspective, and recognize the fear in that shout. The fear of an eleven-year-old colt who was about to lose his life. ********** The gash Strike had managed to put in the manticore’s leg must have been a fluke. He knew it because the battle was over in mere seconds. As his brother approached the manticore, it raised its paw, and swung forward. The attack connected with Strike before he even had the chance to swing his sword; he was swatted to the side and sent airborne, colliding with a building and cracking the window before falling back into the street. His sword flew out of reach and clattered to the ground. Strike, miraculously still conscious, struggled to his hooves, shaking with exertion and pain as he went. It was all for naught; the manticore dragged itself to him before he could retreat. Swinging its body around, it extended its scorpion tail and caught Lucky Strike square in the chest, the point piercing through the center of his heart. Strike’s eyes widened. The manticore withdrew its tail. For a moment, Strike staggered about before gaining temporary balance. He stared at the hole in his chest, bringing a trembling hoof to examine the wound. Eventually, he looked back up. The last thing he saw before collapsing was the manticore approaching his brother, who was still simply standing in the middle of the street. Rummy did not shout. He did not scream for his brother, nor did he cry tears at his demise, nor did he react in any way, except to stare with a blank, open-mouthed expression. Everything was… supposed to be okay. Why wasn’t it okay? The manticore drew closer and closer to him. He did not care. His brother had just been murdered right in front of his eyes. And still the feeling had not changed. Stay there, and it will be okay. But there seemed to be nothing in between him and his death. Was this what the gods wanted? To bother him with tics, and then direct him to kill himself? “Hey!” From beyond his vision, a familiar voice sounded. A burning torch was hurled out of seemingly nowhere, and hit the manticore in the arm. It was a light collision, but the beast seemed to back away with instinctive fear. “Get back, you big stinking brute!” Rummy looked behind him. “Daylight!” he cried, overjoyed. She did not seem to acknowledge him. She held a second torch in her hoof and waved it wildly back and forth, racing to his side. “Get back! Back!” Rummy peeked over Daylight’s side. She was wearing the carrier saddlebag. In it was her sister. Another ten seconds passed in which Daylight, a filly smaller than he was, and who was certainly smaller than his brother, frightened the monster with a small bit of fire. Eventually, it had backed off, still obviously in view, but losing the will to come after them. Daylight began backing up. She got close to Rummy’s ear, and whispered. “Run.” Suddenly, Rummy felt like he should run. And so he did. They both did. ********** We escaped, and traveled to Canterlot. There was a group of adults waiting to take care of us, but the journey was still long and hard, especially for a pair of young, injured ponies, one of which had been carrying her baby sister all day long. Our greater injuries were treated, but we still had a relatively long ways to travel. The night fell, and we kept on walking, scared of the beasts we thought might pursue us. I tried to keep a close proximity to somepony who, for all I knew, was my only surviving friend. But she wasn’t my friend at all. I honestly don’t know why I expected her to be. ********** The night had fallen. The moon was high in the sky, though most of the time they could hardly see it through the dense foliage that was the forest path to Canterlot. It was cold, it was exhausting, but mostly, they were simply grateful to be alive. Rummy and Daylight walked with a group of grown-ups, trailing in the back of the weary procession. The leaders occasionally checked to make sure everypony was present, accounted for, and in good health, but for the most part, they walked in relative silence. Nopony wanted to talk. But after spending so long being quiet, Rummy felt like he should at least say something. He turned towards Daylight, voicing the first words he had spoken in hours. “Thank you for saving me.” She did not respond. She did not even look at him. “I can carry her for a bit, if you want,” Rummy said, motioning to her sister. Still no response. He fell silent for a while. After another minute, he spoke. “Do you hate me?” Daylight still did not give any indication she heard him, save for a small growl of anger. “It’s because of my twitches, isn’t it? It’s because of my shaking.” Suddenly, Daylight stopped. She hung her head, growled loudly, and then whirled around to face him. “No!” she shouted. Her voice echoed throughout the forest, startling birds and disturbing the otherwise tranquil night. Rummy stepped back. Even in the darkness of night, the total fury in her eyes was unmistakable. “It’s because you’re a bloody coward! You left me and my sister for dead! All you had to do was help me lift the wood, but no! You ran off to save yourself! I had to cut the cloth with a broken piece of glass!” She flashed her hooves at him. They bore fresh scabs from handling sharp glass. “You don’t care about anypony but yourself! You don’t look out for anypony but you! No conviction! No sense of loyalty! My father hated ponies like you, and I hate ponies like you too!” She marched towards him, and shouted inches away from his face. “Do you hear me, Lucky Break? I hate you!” Her brows were furrowed and her teeth were bared in a mix of disgust and furious rage. Rummy was speechless and motionless, and he was fairly sure his heart had permanently stopped. Daylight stared into his eyes for another moment before snorting through her nostrils and turning away, trying to comfort the crying foal she had just awoken. ********** In my defense, that was what I had meant by “my shaking”. After dealing with it so traumatically all day, I had simply assumed she would know what I meant. That said, it was no less than I deserved. So just because I had an extraordinary instinct for survival didn’t mean I could follow it constantly. In some regards, it could “malfunction”. That was lesson number one, and it was the hardest one to learn. What would have happened if I ran when Strike told me? Would there have been a beast waiting for us down the road? Would he have survived, and I perished? Would Luck have provided a different, albeit “harder” way? I’ll never know. To add insult to injury, I later realized I had earned my mark. The broken horeshoe. On the single worst day of my young life, I had earned my cutie mark. I decided the gods either hated me, or considered me their toy. After all that, I made it my business to truly learn what I had. I got my tics under control, and learned how to listen to the urges. I still had no idea I could actually set goals other than “survival”, but it was a start. In all honesty, they didn’t just annoy me now, they scared me. Reminded me of how big a failure I was, how I let my brother die. The only reason I studied my gift was to avoid it, and as the years passed, I did indeed avoid situations that would prompt the urges. No matter what, I was never going to let such things happen again. It wasn’t until many years later that- ********** Twilight jolted up from reading the letter as she heard the door creak open. “Hello, Twilight. I’m sorry I’m late.”